But in the week leading up to Mischka's heat, the Alpha made sure the Omega's well-fed. He went to the store and bought all of his favorite foods, which he offered him throughout the day.

If the Omega noticed this odd behavior, he didn't say anything—but he smiled whenever the Alpha pushed a snack into his hands, claiming that he needed to keep his energy up.

​​

The Alpha also scented the Omega way more than usual because his scent has been developing the sweet notes of pre-heat and it was near-intoxicating.

He even do it in public once, which prompted Mischka to shove him away and yelled dramatically about how there were children around, even though they were sitting in a bar at 10 PM and there were definitely zero children around.

It was Friday night and they were out to celebrate—it was one last hurrah before Mischka got pregnant and won't be able to drink for nine months.

"Two more days, according to my heat-tracking app."

A rush of excitement surged through the Alpha's body. He suddenly felt the desire to protect and provide bubble up within him.

He looked at the mildly impressive spread on their little high top table—he may have gone overboard when ordering food—and scooted the bowl of warm soup toward Mischka.

"Eat."

Mischka snort but obliged, picking up his spoon.

"Such a good Alpha, making sure I am eating well."

He grabbed a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and waved it around near the Alpha's mouth. He took another piece of chicken and popped it into his own mouth.

"Wow, it's so weird to think about how we'll probably have a baby a year from now."

"Yup. I will make sure of it."

It was entirely possible for an Omega to conceive outside of heat, but the chances were much greater during heat.

Then it cut to him at the kitchen table, sitting with his chair pushed away from the table just a bit to provide clearance for his belly. Daime's there too, now, sitting next to Mischka.

Both of them have plates in front of them, but Mischka's portion was definitely much bigger. The Omega whined about how he's full and tired but there's still some food left on his plate, so the black haired Alpha started feeding him.

"Eat, Omega."

The Omega obediently ate every bite Daime gave him, whimpering as he did so. The Alpha woke up very disoriented and very, very horny.

The first thing he noticed was the cloying scent hanging in the air, so saccharine it's almost bitter. He rolled over and saw Mischka, whose face was coated with a thin sheen of sweat.

He was whimpering just like he was in the Alpha's dream.

"Baby, wake up. You are in heat."

The Alpha thought back to the very few heats he spent with Mischka long ago. They were long and laborious affairs—having sex constantly for a few days wasn't as glamorous as it sound.

"One sec."

He hopped out of bed and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, medicine and, of course, some snacks. When he came back the Omega has already changed the arrangement of all the pillows and blankets on their bed.

The Alpha smiled—cute, he's nesting.

"Baby, here you go."

He set the snacks down on the nightstand and idled next to the bed, taking in the sight of the Omega, who's unbelievably pretty even when he was heat sick.

Holding two pills and the glass of water out for the Omega. When he took the pills, he only takes a sip of the water, and before he could set it down, the Alpha insisted that he drank the whole thing.

"But, Alpha. It will make me feel sick."

"Slowly."

He frowned and glanced at Daime, but obeyed. He set the glass down. Before he could say anything else, Mischka all but jumped him, straddling Daime.

He buried his nose into the crook of the Alpha's neck. The moan of pleasure Mischka let out awakens something deep within the Alpha, so he grabbed the Omega's face and pulled him forward so their lips smash together.

Everything went blurry—as it often did during heat sex—once Mischka slipped his tongue into the Alpha's mouth.

He remembered alternating between fucking fast and deep versus gentle and slow. At some point the Alpha's fantasies spilled from his lips, causing him to dirty-talk about how he's going to fuck a baby into the Omega and… some similar stuff.

And then when most of Daime's stamina has depleted, Mischka and his insatiable heat-hunger took over and he fucked Daime instead for a while.

But when Mischka's heat finally broke and he was sleeping a well-deserved sleep, Daime laid in bed staring at the ceiling, already growing excited at the possibility that he might've knocked his husband up.

He closed his eyes and imagined what the nursery will look like.

They've already decided to convert the office-slash-miscellaneous room, and Mischka wanted the walls to be green while the Alpha wanted them pink so the black haired Alpha just pictures two green walls and two pink ones.

And the crib and the rocking chair and the dresser will all be painted white.

Suddenly in his mind's eye he saw the Omega sitting atop the dresser in the nursery, and he was, as usual in the Alpha's fantasies, heavily pregnant.

He looked undone, with his hair all mussed and plump cheeks flushed, wearing just a dress shirt and briefs. And the look on his face makes the Alpha wanted to take care of him; to ravish, and to pamper.

Mischka whined a hazy the Alpha when he pulled away from the kiss, so Daime gently pushed the Omega's thick thighs apart and get on his knees.

He noticed how Mischka canted his hips forward a bit, allowing the Alpha better access to his crotch and getting his belly out of the way.

The black haired Alpha once again strokes his belly, then went down to the obvious bulge in his briefs.

"Alpha~"

Daime blinked a few times.

The expression on Mischka's face was so similar to the one he was wearing in the Alpha's dream from which he just awoke.

His eyes were wide and wanting and his cheeks were still flushed from the exertion of heat, and some sort of calm washes over Daime as he sensed his fantasies and reality blending into one.

"Alpha, I can feel a bun in the oven."