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You grew up friends with Noctis. Not really sure why - you excelled at academics, maybe, you were supposed to tutor him. Neither of you really remember the earliest times in your friendship. The memories get vivid when you finally present. Everyone knew Noct was going to be an alpha, so that wasn't a surprise. But when one of his closest friends presented as an omega with the most potent scent around, it drew attention. You were on suppressants as soon as your body could safely take it not for the heats, but to try to dampen your smell. From puberty, you started getting drowned in alpha attention, not much of it pleasant. So early on, with consent from both of you, Noct started to scent you. Not a claim, of course, merely nuzzling against your neck (sometimes sucking gently on your gland, although this was generally reserved for times when your scent was out of control). It's become one of the staples in your relationship. Every time you see each other, every hug in greeting is always so he can keep you safe. Over the years, his scent has become your comfort, something that can always calm you down. Even now, having him suckling on your gland is the only thing that can really help you recover from your anxiety attacks.

You suppose that's the main reason he let you accompany him on this trip. He felt like you were far too vulnerable without him to protect you. You denied that passionately, of course, but he insisted. Although camping isn't your cup of tea, you do have to admit that your quick reflexes and keen senses have saved the group from quite a few ambushes. Also, you weren't much of a fighter, but you were the best caretaker around. Sometimes you wondered if the boys let themselves get a little injured just so you'd baby them.

Either way, most of the time you spend in the Regalia involves you sandwiched between the alphas in the back, mostly laying on Noct. You’re asleep most of the time, their strong presence allowing you to rest easily. But sometimes you wake up to Noct's lips on your neck and Gladio rubbing your arm soothingly, both of them purring in their instinctive “calm the omega” gesture. There were perks to still being omega-passing on hormones, you suppose. Prompto passes for a beta while he's on his suppressants, which is probably better for his pride, but you can't really imagine how it feels to not depend on alphas.

Maybe depend isn't the right word - you can take care of yourself just fine, especially since you've never had a heat. But there isn't once in your life that you've needed something that an alpha wasn't immediately trying to get for you, and comfort behaviours are always welcome. The increasing rarity of omegas in the kingdom means that you could generally cause a scene if you wanted to, oftentimes finding yourself pampered by complete strangers responding to your tears. You find the protective flare in their scents to be reassuring in a bizarre way. You're rather traditional omega in that way - the confidence of an alpha is soothing to you. The best way to get your attention when you're emotional is to use their alpha-voice, even though there have been debates for years over the morality of ordering omegas around that way. The resignation of control is something that inexplicably calms you, and Noct knows this well.

So you're not all that surprised when he wakes you by growling a command into your ear with a primal strength. “Get up,” he says, and you immediately find yourself scrambling to comply.

“Imperials found us,” he explains while helping you right yourself. “Gladio is relocating the car. We'll come back for it later. Right now we have to pack up as fast as possible.” His voice retains some of the dark timbre so you don't protest. You look over to see Ignis giving Prom the same talk, obviously the beta’s job so the younger omega isn't scared.

It doesn't take the four of you long to break camp, acting with a hushed ease that comes from weeks of practice. Iggy leads the way, and you shoulder your portion of the camping materials, balancing your bag of medical supplies in your arms. It might only be an hour til dawn, so you're all reasonably rested. And you were well on your way to the next town. Overall your situation isn't too bad.

Eventually you meet Gladio on your hike through the forest, and he wordlessly reaches to take the pack off your back. You try to protest by squirming away from him. He levels a serious glare at you, and enough irritation filters into his scent that you relent. You pout at how pleased he seems as he swings it over one broad shoulder, ruffling your hair before moving to take something from Prompto too. The trek is rather pleasant after that, the feeling of danger eventually fading as the sun begins to rise. Ignis announces that you're not more than a few hours from town, and you readjust your hold on the bag. The silence gives you time to sift through everyone’s individual scents. You’re trying to detect any fear they might be hiding from you, or any hints of pain from old injuries. Luckily the worst you smell is the dull musk of exhaustion; a feeling that weighs heavy but not negative on your group. Prompto is still uneasy but, you suppose, you smell that way too. Maybe it’s an omega trait to be wary of everything. Or maybe it’s learned from fighting with your reckless companions for so long.

You reach civilization again in late morning, and Ignis immediately goes to rent a caravan. He and Prompto go out to fetch lunch, leaving you and the alphas to get settled. When you enter your temporary shelter, Noctis is quick to shed his jacket. He pulls you close and scents you gently, licking once over your gland before laying down on the bed and dropping off to sleep. “Awful lazy for a prince,” you say fondly, your voice at an odd pitch from disuse.

Gladio grunts in agreement, dropping the rest of the group’s belongings on the floor. It’s warm in the narrow caravan, and you sit to struggle out of your boots. He clears his throat and drops his jacket on the floor too, announcing that he’s going to secure the perimeter. You’re a little uncomfortable, in a restless sort of way, but the heat isn’t helping either. You search through your relatively sparse pack for your lighter tank top, changing into it leisurely. The stagnant air feels almost cool against your now bare arms. Maybe you can talk the boys into buying a fan.

The sight of the three articles of clothing on the floor - your shirt and the alphas’ jackets - cause the restlessness to flare up again. Without really knowing what you’re doing, you move into the back room and gather extra blankets, careful not to disturb Noct. You drop them right where the curtain falls to separate the bedroom from the main part of the caravan, then move back towards the bags. If you were thinking properly, or at all, really, you would be ashamed of yourself. But your skin is tingling and you feel a little short of breath and you pull the softest clothes you can find out of the bags, going through them one at a time. You toss every suitable item back to the blankets without looking. It takes a while, because your knees are weak by the time you walk over to the pile and sit yourself in the middle of it. By an embarrassing dance of squirming and pulling blankets into place, accompanied by frustrated whimpers, you manage to create a nest around yourself, finally laying down comfortably on the hard floor. You finish it off by pulling Gladiolus’ leather jacket on top. It’s cool, and smooth, and smells strongly of him.

You press your face to it and drift off to the sound of Noctis’ quiet snoring.