Truebonds (Larry Stylinson)

S28A

Louis watches from the porch as the FedEx truck drives away. A cloud of dust billows up in its wake as it bumps down the long drive and over the cattle grate before turning onto the main road and disappearing out of sight. The late afternoon sun is trying its best to push through the cloud cover and brighten his day, but it's fighting a losing battle. Nothing is going to lift his mood.

He's been dreading this day for months, or years probably, seven to be exact; a countdown to a fixed date his biology won't let him ignore, no matter how much he'd like to.

The nondescript package covered in brown paper weighs heavily in his hands, belying its actual lack of heft. He knows what's inside—he'd requested it after all—but that doesn't make the enormity of what it will reveal any easier to accept.

He shouldn't complain, not really, being an omega in modern times isn't anywhere near as traumatic as it used to be. Medical advancements, and his monthly injections, means that his body isn't controlled by quarterly heats which also avoids the risk of pregnancy from a rogue alpha in their rut who isn't on medication to stop them. This bit still sucks though, and is definitely peak-level annoyance. It's been seven years since he's had to do this, seven years since he was forced to feed the monster within and placate his biology, seven years since his last scenting cycle.

Of course, he's grateful that he doesn't need to independently seek out a scenter and instead can simply avail himself of the required services through an agency that provides highly qualified professionals. Inviting a veritable stranger into his home, an alpha no less, to nest with him and scent him for five days is an intrusion he could do without though, but the alternative is far too risky for him to contemplate. He knows the health complications that can arise if he doesn't do this properly, so he's just going to view it as a 'treatment', get it over with, and go back to his life until the next seven year cycle rolls around.

While the whole process doesn't require anything sexual—thank fuck—it is still incredibly intimate and it makes his stomach lurch any time he allows himself to think about it too much. Being cooped-up with someone for days, cut off from the rest of the world and having them witness him at his most vulnerable, watching his every move and reading his body language, gets under Louis' skin in a way that makes him uncomfortable. It takes him weeks to get over it and return to some semblance of normal.

After his first cycle, he hadn't been able to get comfortable in his apartment again and finally had to move out, but with his second cycle things improved, and he's confident that they will be even better this time. He wants to spend his cycle comfortably in his own bedroom, but also doesn't want the scenter to be poking about in his things. His solution has been to set-up his own bedroom as the scenting room, but remove all traces of anything that could personalize it, shifting them down the hall to a spare room. It's a weird line that he's drawn, but it's what felt right.

He sits down on the top step and tries to settle his nervous stomach, knowing that his scenter is going to be one of the five candidates inside the package. He'd picked them out from the agency's website, pouring over the long list of bios for days before finally selecting five that he felt were suitable. Now he just has to choose one based on the more detailed bios contained within and, of course, the samples of their scent.

It's a bit gross and a tad mortifying, but it's an inescapable necessity and is definitely preferable to meeting them all in person as he'd had to do the first time around. He'd presented when he was thirteen, so his first scenting cycle had been at twenty while he was still a poor college student. His family couldn't afford this level of service through an agency back then, but thankfully those days have long-since been banished. His successful career ensures that he can utilize a more exclusive, and therefore way more fucking expensive, scenting service.