The scent assaulted him the moment he stepped in. His nostrils remained unused to being able to sense pheromones. He had ripped his own glands out and lived the remaining years in the apocalypse like a beta.
Damian paused by the entrance, his fingers tightening around the edge of the door. The air inside the tutoring center was warm, and he stood there for a few seconds more, trying to control what his body was feeling. The instinct was loud, pounding in his ears like a heartbeat. Calm down. He can't let himself get out of control, things can't go wrong. He pinched his wrist, nails digging into his skin until it turned a swollen, fierce red.
His feet moved before his mind could catch up. Down the narrow hallway, past the darkened classrooms, until he reached the last room at the end, the only one still lit. The light inside was dim, a single desk lamp casting a pool of gold across scattered worksheets and empty tea cups. It looked almost peaceful, like time had stopped.
But Damian's eyes found him instantly.
Theodore was seated, barely upright. His shirt clung to him, soaked at the back. His breath came in short, shallow bursts. One trembling hand gripped the desk while the other covered his mouth. The room was too quiet. So quiet Damian could hear the wetness in Theodore's breath, the tremble in his bones.
Damian swallowed. His voice came out low, almost unsure.
"…Theo."
Theodore's shoulders jerked. Slowly , he turned. Their eyes met. It was a terrible thing—seeing someone you loved like that. Glazed over, lips bitten raw, skin flushed from fever and something far more humiliating. Damian's chest tightened.
"…Damian?" Theodore blinked, confusion swimming behind the sweat on his lashes. Damian stepped closer. "I happened to pass by."
Theodore let out a low chuckle. "Happened to pass by? Bullshit." He knew that would be impossible, Damian didn't care enough, he would always stay cooped up in his office, and he happened to 'pass by' while he was in his heat?
"You.." A laugh escaped Theodore. "..shameless.."
Damian felt confused. He didn't know why he laughed. But there was a more important matter at hand. "Are you okay? Have you taken suppressants?" He said, walking towards his desk. He knew Theodore's drawers had pills in them. He intended to check if he took suppressants and if not, would help him take the pill.
Supressants? What's he playing at here? Theodore grit his teeth, trembling, he looked up at Damian with resentment. "Isn't it better to take me home and f*ck me already?" He said bitterly and sarcastically.
Damian's jaw fell open, stunned. Then realization hit him all at once. Of course—that's what it looked like. Appearing out of nowhere while Theodore was in heat… anyone would think his intentions were filthy. But that wasn't why he came.
It was true—he had been a bastard once. Cold, distant, proud to a fault. But the apocalypse had stripped him bare, forced him to confront what he'd been. It had broken him down and, in its own twisted way, rebuilt him.
He wasn't the same man anymore.
He had torn out his own glands during the apocalypse to quiet his instincts. He couldn't afford rutting in a zombie infested world, and he had long since left behind the desire for anything physical. Celibacy had become second nature. He didn't crave anymore.
So now, standing here, accused of something vile—he almost laughed from the injustice of it. But more than that, he felt… wounded. Not by Theodore's words—but by how easily they made sense, after all he'd done in the past.
When Damian neither moved nor spoke, simply stood there frozen, Theodore's heart lurched. Had he gone too far? The words he'd thrown out just moments ago echoed back at him, bitter and sharp.
He hadn't truly meant them. But now, Damian was quiet. Too quiet. A horrible thought flickered through Theodore's fogged mind: What if I pushed him over the edge? What if he really does it—right here, in the tutoring center? The pheromones in the air were thick, tangled between desire and fear. His body trembled, not just from heat but from regret. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could take the words back.
He glanced at the door, if he could just muster a few steps—But before the thought could solidify, a fresh wave of heat crashed over him, violent and unrelenting. He folded into himself, trembling, powerless against his own body. His fingers dug into his thighs as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, trying to endure. A soft, broken sound escaped him as he bit down on his lip.
Damian was still lost in his thoughts—how he'd changed, how he'd been misunderstood—until a soft sound snapped him back. He looked up, and without a second thought, rushed toward Theodore.
His hand found Theodore's wrist, warm and trembling. He leaned in, intending to lift him, to carry him out of this place.
But Theodore jerked away, both hands clinging tightly to the edge of the desk.
"Don't do this here!" he gasped, voice cracked with panic.
"I'm not doing anything," Damian said quickly. "I'm taking you home."
But the words had no weight. Theodore's grip only tightened, knuckles white against the wood.
Damian let out a low breath, frustration and guilt tangled in his throat. "I mean it. We're just going home."
He could easily pry Theodore away if he wanted to—he was stronger, and Theodore was barely holding himself upright. But he didn't want to use force. Didn't want to become the kind of alpha Theodore feared.
Still, he had to do something. And carefully, almost hesitantly, he reached for Theodore's waist. The moment his hands brushed his hips, Theodore tensed like a pulled bowstring. "Don't… please," he whispered, voice trembling.
"I'm not going to do what you think," Damian murmured, steadying him with a firm but respectful hold. "You're burning up. That's all I'm worried about."
Seeing that he really didn't do anything, he felt relieved. He didn't completely trust Damian and knew he could go back on his word, but by that time, they'd be out of his classroom and out of the tutoring center. As long as it's not in the tutoring center..
"I'm fine," he whispered. "I took suppressants. I'll be okay." Damian tucked a stray hair from Theodore's auburn strands. "Good. I'm taking you home." He said, scooping Theodore up by the waist. Theodore slumped forward slightly, forehead brushing Damian's collarbone.
The scent of Theodore's heat still clung stubbornly to the air, but Damian didn't flinch. He didn't let instinct drive him, he sighed, relieved that Theodore didn't make a fuss in his arms, and turned around, heading out of the tutoring center. Without a word, he carried Theodore down the hall and out into the night.
At the car, Damian opened the passenger door with one hand and eased him into the seat with the other, adjusting the seatbelt gently across his chest. Theodore didn't resist. His eyes fluttered closed, breath slow and uneven.
Once Damian was sure he was secure, he shut the door with a soft click. Inside, Theodore exhaled deeply. The tension in his limbs melted little by little, like a wire pulled too tight finally slackening. Damian walked around, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The low rumble stirred the quiet air.