Chapter Text
Jannik has no idea why they set up this program.
Well, that’s not entirely true. he knows. In fine, print there’s the reasoning, with all of it’s human relations approved language:
-
Reduce amount of time Omegas spend away from tournament schedules to minimize biological disruption (get rid of biological advantage, Jannik summarizes)
-
Improve positive relationships between separate secondary gender players
-
Reduce the possibility of sudden heats/ruts in the middle of tournaments
It’s logic, fairly sound in its reasoning. It’s not as if Omegas had never been allowed to play. It’s tennis - a sport for all ages and genders. However, in a professional setting, there seems to be an issue with omegas being treated equally.
Accommodations aren’t provided to omegas who have heats. They have rules for when stress or sudden heats occur, which is to get everyone out of the court as quickly as possible and send them to an emergency facility. But beyond that, Jannik doesn’t know very much.
Mind you, he never had much of a reason to know everything. He’s not an omega, nor is he really close to any omegas on tour. Most of his friends ended up being betas or alphas, but that’s not by choice. He didn’t single anyone out.
It just happened.
He is cordial and friendly regardless.
None of that really matters, not at the moment.
What matters is the confirmation box waiting for his click. He read the lines above, the big bold text of the objectives and encouragement to take part.
He doesn’t really have to - no one forced him to check yes - but he knows the difference between when they’re asking for volunteers versus when they’re practically saying “join.”
For all he knew, he was doing what he intended to do all along: schedule his ruts out along his breaks. Jannik had no issue with talking to omegas or betas. Scents are different, yeah, but that’s everyone.
The only scents that ever fully catalog for Jannik are those of his team, the ones he has to see every single day he’s on court. Everyone else is temporary, only lingering for as long as they are in the space.
That’s the fun of blockers. The scent is there, but so muted that most people don’t react to it, regardless of designation. A majority of tournament workers are betas who are trained to handle most situations.
For Jannik, saying yes was simple.
Easy. Here and done.
It took seconds to submit it laid up in his bed. He expects most players to have already agreed to this - if ATP sent this out, then most will comply.
He’s also heard some chatter in the locker room, but none that he focused on. Jannik’s never been the biggest fan of holding conversations in the locker room.
There’s some passing comments, some jokes that resulted in snickers and laughs. Jack had asked him if he agreed to do it or not, and Jannik responded with a shrug and a “Not yet.”
He forgets about it for the most part. There’s a blur of tournaments and matches. Train, play, recover, loosely in that order. Of course, there’s other things in between with the meals and down time.
The point is Jannik let the whole thing go. Nothing had changed for him.
Jannik didn’t read the fine print as well as he thought he did, nor did he listen well enough to the discussions from other player. The ones that would’ve left him questioning what he had gotten himself into or why it creates such a buzz still.
It came at a pleasant surprise when he received an email after Doha.
Subject: ATP Initiative Program
Jannik Sinner,
Congratulations! You have been paired with Carlos Alcaraz Garfia for the term of his upcoming heat.
Scheduled: 4/1-4/7
Please see the attached file below. If there are any questions or concerns, please contact us at ****************@*******.com
Jannik blinks thrice before he calls Simone.
It sticks with him during his break. Two weeks to think about what he has done or what he is going to do eventually. No matches, nothing immediately pressing for his time. Or, he’s given a lot of space to attempt to wrap his head around it.
Carlos? The same one who he tends to see on the other side of the court? Probably one of the most dominant omegas this sport has ever faced, if not the dominant? The very one who is rumored to have a sticky honey smell to him that his friends have complained about - in a good way, at least, for he simply smells too good. (Jannik wouldn’t know. He doesn’t stick around long enough to get a good track of his smell.)
Had he known that he would be assigned as some sort of designated alpha to someone’s heat, Jannik wouldn’t have signed the thing. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.
But he’s not freaking out - yet, he supposed. The concept of it is strange, and now their objectives make a lot more sense.
He messaged Jack about it after the third day, needing to talk to someone other than his team who practically told him there’s nothing they can do.
Jannik: Did you know you get assigned to help an omega through their heat?
Jack: 🤣🤣 You didn’t?
Jannik: I just signed it
Jack: You get your omega yet?
Jannik didn’t quite like that wording. Sounds off-putting. He wouldn’t say, in any sense, that he “has” Carlos. At worst, he’s trying to help a colleague out for a week.
Jannik: No.
Jannik decided to keep it to himself.
Jack: Maybe no one wanted to be paired with you
Jannik: 🖕🏼
Jannik: Who did you get?
Jack: I’ll share if you share
Jannik: I have nothing to share
Jack: Then neither do I
Jack: Anyone you prefer?
He thinks about it for a moment. Is there someone who he would’ve picked, if he had that choice? Not like he’s thought of anyone on tour like that, not since he went out with a beta in the WTA.
The more he thinks about it, the more confused he gets. Jannik puts it to a stop.
Jannik: Not really
Jack: Not even Carlos?
Jannik feels his heart jump in his chest. Does he already know? Are the pairings public information?
Jannik: What about him?
Jack: It’s Carlos, man.
Jack: He’s attractive
Jack: Have you smelled him?
Jannik: Not really. Maybe once or twice
Jack: Last time we played and we hugged at the net, I almost didn’t let him go.
Jack: Wish I got him
He can’t help the small sense of satisfaction he got from reading that. There’s this wicked thing of I know something you don’t that he can’t fully suppress.
Jannik throws that down for logic and the awkwardness of talking about another player like this.
Jannik: Kind of weird to talk about Carlos like this
Jack: Oh I told him
Jack: I tried to ask him out and he said no
Jack: Went out with Flavio instead 😕
This is exactly why Jannik doesn’t participate in locker room gossip. He doesn’t need to know this stuff. Who goes out with who or who is hooking up on tour isn’t a concern of his.
Jack: Maybe he likes omegas
Jannik: Maybe you care too much
Jack: I did try to ask him out
Jack: I’m not the only one
Again, too much information.
Jannik: Sucks for them
Jannik: Maybe he wants to win more than he wants a mate
Jack: Don’t we all?
“So Carlos, huh?” Leave it to Darren to be direct and teasing at the same time. Jannik glances over to his coach, another ping of worry filling him before he eases it.
It’s just Darren. He can know. Worse than that, Darren is the one who had to explain what he got himself into in the first place.
Heats and ruts are scheduled as usual, but now players can choose to spend heats and ruts with each other. Officially sanctioned. It was phrased in such neutral language that is masked - minimize the amount of time players are away from the tournament due to "biological illness."
It's about maintaining high conditions of the players throughout the tournament calendar. About saving face from the various times tournaments were put on pause for biological reasons.
Such shit.
"Yes, Carlos."
"Could be worse, right?"
That's true.
“We are close, but not like.. that.” Jannik trails off, trying to find the words for it.
He’s not sure there is a definitive word for it, either. No good way to say it.
We haven’t fucked doesn’t seem fully appropriate for what Jannik is trying to imply. Yes, sex is included, but it’s more than that. It cannot be reduced to the transaction of sex, is what he is saying.
They’re not the best of friends. Jannik doesn’t know Carlos that intimately, and to one day do something as spend a heat feels out of order. Not wrong, but it can be done better.
“Maybe we should set up a practice,” Darren suggests, like the good coach he is. He’s good at finding solutions. “It would be good for a lot of reasons.”
Jannik feels his shoulders sinking. Dread isn’t a good word for it. If anything, he is happy is Carlos of all people. He would be beside himself if he got someone like Tien or Diallo. It just wouldn’t vibe at all, he thinks.
With Carlos.. it can be easy. He smells good. He reacts well enough to Carlos. These are things Jannik already knows because he has been around the man enough times.
It is probably a good thing he is as concerned about this as he is.
“Yeah.”
There’s no reason to say no. It is good for a lot of reasons. Tennis fans would eat it up - he can almost imagine the way his profile would blow up after.
It’s also good for practice. Carlos is a dominant player on court, regardless of secondary gender. Jannik has been trying to find some way to dominate the omega’s game. He’s still searching. It’s like when he finds an answer for one thing, Carlos throws something else at him.
So unpredictable, in the best way.
And there’s the other thing: give Jannik time to get used to being in such proximity to Carlos’ scent, or Carlos in general.
Given he’s done it multiple times before. Every time they’ve practiced in the past or greeted each other, but that’s normal stuff.
Neutral things.
Things he can and has practically brushed off.
But this wouldn’t be something he wipes off his shoulder. He has to let it stick. He needs to pay attention.
Jannik will have to focus on both tennis and cataloguing Carlos’ scent for his alpha to recognize and latch on to.
Temporary attachment.
For as long as the heat remains, Jannik is agreeing to be his alpha, his mate, for a week. God, Miami will be finishing up and Carlos will be in pre-heat. There’s no down time. No vacation.
“And maybe you two can set some boundaries.” Darren looks at him in a way that speaks volumes higher than his voice does.
“We have a contract,” Jannik speaks, oddly feeling defensive. His face is beginning to heat up. He feels it first in his ears before it reaches the center of his cheeks.
“Yes. I read it. But…” His coach pauses, trying to find the words. “Have you ever spent a heat with someone, Jannik?”
“No?”
Darren sighs, like he knew that answer was coming, but has to explain what he means anyway. “Everyone is different. They want different things.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you, boy?” Darren huffs. “You have to learn how to be a good alpha for him. What does he need from you? You don’t just put it in and hope for the best.”
“I know that,” Jannik snaps, his pride attacked. The alpha in him already argues that he can take care of Carlos. “I’m not incapable.”
There’s a pause from both of them. Jannik considers apologizing for the outburst. Darren beats him to it.
“I know you’re not. I know you and Carlos aren’t the greatest of friends, but I know you care. I know you’d want to do it right. So ask him what he wants.”
Jannik nods slowly, but the movement feels heavy. The mere thought of sitting next to him, water bottles in their hands, asking what he wants out of a partner seems.. a lot.
Ask him what he wants
Jannik tried to find some order it in to make the idea manageable. Strategize his approach, think of some possible plays to adapt to. Think of it like it is tennis.
But maybe that’s not the best thing. This isn’t a match and Carlos won’t be his opponent.
He’ll be something else entirely.
Finally, Jannik agrees. “I’ll talk to him.” His voice sounds far away.
His coach studies him for a moment, and Jannik wonders if he is going to push this any further. To his relief, Darren only nods. “Good. It might be easier to do it when practice is over, maybe in the locker room if you want privacy. Or you could, you know, text him with the number you got from him years ago.”
“How do you even know about that?” Jannik asks, indiginified.
“I know everything. Message him first, then have the talk in person.”
“Okay,” Jannik mutters, sounding more like a child who has to pick up their toys rather than a grown adult.
Darren huffs, amusement written all over him, before they move on.
Jannik: Hi, it’s Jannik. My team thought it would be good if we set up a practice time before Indian Wells starts
Jannik: If you don’t already have a partner
Carlos: I don’t have a partner yet!
Carlos: Hi Jannik 😆👋
Carlos: I can ask my team. I think they have Darren’s number to reach out
Jannik: Okay
Jannik: Thanks
Carlos: No thank you! 😆
It gets set up the day after next.
Jannik doesn’t have to ask for an update. Darren tells him over breakfast and all Jannik knows to do is nod, accepting what is going to happen.
"1 p.m. Court one.”
The reality of it is still jarring.
He’s going to see Carlos. He’s going to practice with him. He’s going to talk about the heat, or acknowledge at the least. He’s going to, in less than a month, be in the same room as Carlos in heat.
It distracts him much more than he’d dare to admit. It’s professional. Jannik isn’t taking Carlos on a date, trying to woo the man. They’re not head over heels in love with each other and finally taking someone’s virginity.
It’s a planned heat.
And yet it holds more weight than Jannik is willing to admit out loud.
The rest of the team goes downstairs, but Jannik almost forgets his pass to get into the venue, so he has to go back upstairs to get it. Simone says nothing about it, but his sideways glance is clearly wondering if he is coming down with something.
Jannik spends those three minutes trying to get himself together. Upstairs, grab, downstairs. Done.
Except, when he’s stepping off of the elevator when he spots Carlos.
And before he can play it off, finding a way around, Carlos spots him too.
Jannik accepts his fate once more, taking steps towards the omega. He does stop a certain distance, not wanting to chance if Carlos doesn’t want to talk to him.
This is the first time they are seeing each other since it was announced that they will be spending Carlos’ heat together. Maybe Carlos doesn’t actually want a partner.
Jannik is in his head too much.
“Hey,” Jannik lifts his hand in a lazy wave, then lowers it when he realizes he might look stupid. But Carlos is waving back with more energy than he had, face lifting into a smile.
Even before he closes in on Carlos, he can smell his cheery scent. If he didn’t know better, he would think the man is happy to see him.
“Jannik!”
“Hi Carlos.”
You already said hello.
Jannik is fucking this up already.
Jannik pinches his lips together, quelling the irritation he has at himself. He knows how to talk to people with normal everyday interactions, but this is already going downhill after a mere greeting.
Carlos hugs him like normal players would. One arm is busy holding something where the other merely grazes the back. Their bodies brush and Jannik holds his breath by instinct.
It’s to not breathe Carlos in, to not take advantage of the proximity they have. He doesn’t do more than he normally would with his reciprocation. A loose, short greeting.
“How are you?” Carlos asks they separate.
“Good, good,” Jannik rushes to get out, feeling his face heat up for no reason. This is normal conversation, yet he is the one scrambling to find the words to say. “We have a practice tomorrow.”
“We do,” Carlos says, smile never dimming. “It’s been a while since we had a practice.”
Over a year, if Jannik remembers correctly. He’s nodding without thinking about it. Carlos enjoys practicing with different people, keeping players on rotation. Never fully has favorites in terms of repeat performances.
Maybe Flavio; he did get to go to Carlos’ academy for a week this year.
But for the most part, Carlos explores new people, training different things. It’s tactical and nice at the same time.
“Yes,” he agrees, feeling lame. "Thought it would be a good idea.” Jannik doesn’t continue with the rest of the sentence - given the circumstances - not sure what their line of secrecy is. Preferably, Jannik doesn’t want everyone to know that they were paired together for Carlos’ heat. It’s unnecessary for people to know that.
And the reactions would be-
“We thought it would be good, too,” Carlos responds, not sounding off. it sounds so genuine. “My team thinks I don’t know you well enough, but I think I know you pretty well.”
Jannik releases a nervous laugh, feeling the beginning of sweat forming along his epidermis. He rubs at the back of his neck out of habit before tucking a curl behind his ear.
“We play enough, yeah.”
“Exactly,” Carlos smiles. “And I watch your matches and interviews. I think I know you pretty good.”
Oh.
“Me too.” He’s going to hate himself for this later.
“You do?” Carlos seems surprised by this, eyebrows raising in sudden interest. “Which ones?” He rushes to get out, like he caught onto something juicy.
Jannik fails to catch himself and save his slip-up. “I mean, if it’s on or when I have time - I -” Jannik sighs. “Everyone watches you.” The safest truth and lie wrapped into one.
That’s not wrong. Carlos brings in viewers. He brings in everyone, really.
It’s obvious he is very attractive by appearance alone. Then, other things get factored in. He’s really good at tennis and very passionate about it. Carlos has this way of keeping you engaged into every point, feeling the loss or win so intimately that you could be a member or his team. Then, when he wins a match, he’s stripping off his shirt. It’s not for the crowd, but you can still catch him smiling when the crowd screams for him once his chest is bared.
Something shifts, just slightly.
“I guess,” Carlos shrugs, not as enthusiastic as before.
This a good time to leave.
“I need to find my team,” says Jannik, ushering down the hall where they’re waiting. It’s not a lie at all, but it still feels like one. No, an excuse.
It’s an excuse.
Carlos doesn’t blink at it.
“See you tomorrow, Jannik.”
Feels like a promise Jannik isn’t ready for yet. Nonetheless, he nods and lifts one heavy leg after another before he finds his team.
He knows if he turned around, he’d be tempted to screw this up more by trying to spark more conversation somehow.
Or maybe he’d just study Carlos, trying to figure the omega out before he has to ask.
Both options are pretty bad.
Jannik can breathe by the time he reaches his team, but his exhale isn’t done with relief. It’s anticipation for what is to come, though he has no idea what.
He’s never had to encounter someone as unpredictable as Carlos.
Especially off-court.
Jannik deserves an award for how normal is being right now.
He walks onto court, greets Carlos and the team as he would another other practice partner. He said quick and polite greetings that didn’t linger for too long.
After, he sets his bag down, fixed his racket tape a bit, and got to work.
For the first half of practice, Jannik was completely fine. Not once did he think about the heat or part of the reason he is at this practice with Carlos.
Head completely clear.
He didn’t even hold his breath when Carlos got too close so he didn’t chance an involuntary reaction to him. He didn’t respond in any way.
Completely under control.
Until they reached a water break.
Carlos’ bag was originally in between them like a barrier, but Carlos moved it over as if it were nothing, sitting down right next to him.
Just like that, all of their distance is eliminated. They’re sharing body heat at this point.
Jannik already has his arm resting behind the bench, so now it looks like he is wrapping around Carlos -
That’s about all it took for Jannik to start short circuiting.
Still, he doesn’t move his hand. Moving it would make it obvious and that is the last thing he wants to be. It’s an intentional effort to make this look normal while he ignores the crowd of fans yelling at this very interaction.
“This okay?” Carlos asks, eyes flickering to the people screaming for them.
“Fine,” Jannik gets out. Really he should be asking Carlos that, but the man is the initiator, so it’s fine.
Jannik takes a long sip of water, using it as a worthy distraction. He pretends not to see Carlos do the same.
“Sorry to take you away from your break in April,” Carlos says casually.
Jannik leans forward to not spill the water that spills over.
“No,” he says, more rougher than he wanted it to be. “No it’s okay. Not taking me away from anything. I said I was available.”
Without thinking about it, he puts his arm right back where it was behind the bench.
Someone screams something.
“Okay.” Carlos seems happy with that answer. He leans back in the seat, and Jannik ignores the way their bodies now touch. This is going to look very wrong to a lot of people.
He looks nervously to their teams, then to the crowd, mustering the courage.
“Think that is why they paired us?”
There’s a couple of blinks from Carlos, his head turned to Jannik, clearly giving his full attention.
“I actually, uh,” Carlos laughs nervously, and Jannik can see the pink flush forming on his cheeks as well. He moves to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck, and that forces them to touch more.
Jannik is going to have to wash these clothes immediately because they will smell like Carlos if they keep this up.
Carlos sets his hand down and admits, “You were my preference.”
Jannik feels is mouth go dry, and he swears the the sound of a record scratch somewhere because -
“What?”
Carlos looks away, quickly looking back, like he has to force himself to keep going, too. “Yeah, I had to pick three people who I would prefer.”
Who else?”
The thought sits nasty for him, and Jannik scolds himself for it. It doesn’t matter who else was on his list. The outcome is that he has chosen for Carlos’ heat, and that is what he should get out of this.
Jannik nods slowly, processing the words and tossing away everything else in his mind.
“Ah.”
What a response.
At that, Carlos gives him a small grin then drinks more water.
Jannik only now notices that their teams didn’t surround them like they usually do. They’re off to the side talking amongst themselves.
This had to be done on purpose.
Nothing to do but drink more water.
“Did you get to pick?” Carlos doesn’t look at him now, looking out to the distance, but Jannik can still feel the sideways glance.
“No,” Jannik answers, trying to remember. His face scrunches as he recalls what he put in for months ago. “I put in my breaks and that’s it. They didn’t ask if I wanted someone in particular.”
“Oh. That’s weird.”
“It is.”
He never thought of it before but it is weird.
For a program sanctioned by the ATP, one would expect some more structure and intentionality. They could ask if Jannik prefers omegas or betas (or even alphas) and vice versa. There could be a compatibility test - would’ve helped Jannik bridge this nervous thing he’s got going on - but no.
All they asked for was Jannik’s time off.
It seems as though Carlos’ paperwork was more extensive than that.
“So you didn’t get a choice?” Carlos’ voice changes. It’s not light anymore. Just different.
The wind blows. Their scents carry in the wind rather than stick to each other.
“I chose to be a part of the program?”
Sounds like the best way he can answer. He doesn’t say he had no idea what he was getting into. It seems like the worst time to say that, and for someone who barely had to do anything, it seems very insensitive.
So he sticks with that. It’s the truth.
When Jannik looks at Carlos, he doesn’t look like his normal self anymore. He is quite unreadable now. Before Jannik can form a thought or question around it, their teams are calling them to get back to practice.
Did I -
Carlos rises from the chair immediately, picking up his racket and moving to the other side of the net without a single word.
The rest of practice feels too professional, even for Jannik’s standards. Jannik cannot help but think he said something wrong - the very thing he wanted to avoid.
Something shifts again. By the time they enter the locker room together, Carlos’ smile has faded completely. His shoulders are pulled tight and the pep in his step is nonexistent.
Jannik doesn’t press him on it, not entirely should if it is his place to ask the question.
They ride out a couple of minutes in silence. This doesn’t seem like a good time to bring up the heat.
Hey I know you look upset but what do you want out of your heat?
So Jannik keeps his lips shut. Maybe he’ll find another time to ask.
Carlos huffs from behind him, closing the locker behind him.
“Jannik.” His name is said short, almost irritated.
Jannik turns around to face Carlos, expecting to find the expression matching the tone.
It’s not.
Carlos looks nervous. He’s gnawing on his bottom lip, and he smells dulled.
“Yeah?” Jannik says, trying to show he is listening with both his words and action.
It might be the right thing because Carlos’ shoulders
“I think you should know that I have more than two heats a year.”
Jannik doesn’t react immediately. Partially, he wonders if he needs to know that kind of information. As far as he knows, and according to Darren, he is only assigned to one heat. They’re supposed to trade off, unless they both agree to share the next one.
That’s an issue for later, though. Jannik isn’t fully sure he is going to make it through this one, at this rate.
“Okay.”
It’s an automatic response, like what he gives during press conferences when he is told too much. He doesn’t have a follow-up at this time. Jannik does put the fact away to remember later, just in case, but he’s not sure if he will need it.
Carlos shakes his head, as if dismissing his dismissal. Jannik wonders if he is missing a piece of information somehow.“I am talking at least six.”
Six is certainly not normal. Max, for the regular omega, is four. So for Carlos to clock at least six a year is concerning in a way that makes Jannik have a response more than okay.
“Because of the stress?” Jannik asks, grimacing when it sounds like he reducing him to biology 101. It sounds clinical, but intrigued. Carlos might not have wanted his interest, but something else. Sympathy, maybe?
Fuck, he still doesn’t know what Carlos wants.
Nonetheless, the omega nods. “Physical and emotional stress, yes.”
It’s not said with any abrasiveness or defensiveness, like Jannik had done something wrong. Carlos is answering the question straightforward, like one would if they are explaining a condition they have to another person.
Jannik isn’t quite sure what to think of that.
Truthfully, Jannik doesn’t think this is any of his business. He’s only assigned to one heat. Someone else might be getting an email right now about the next one.
Still, Carlos spills, “If I have one every other month, it keeps the levels down.”
Jannik nods, tracking what he is saying but unsure of how to respond. Sounds like Carlos is being practical about it. It seems to be managed, since Carlos doesn’t sound stressed out about it. He seems quite indifferent, really, like it were another practice and not a week where he cannot have full control of himself.
Still, it is odd to hear this about Carlos. He wonders if anyone else knows this or will it be reduced to his heat partners. It feels like being let in on a secret.
“Guess it pays off,” Jannik says finally.
And Carlos’ brightens. His face seems to light up at the poor attempt of a joke.
“Yeah?”
His smile is so wide, unguarded in a way that Jannik isn’t. Jannik is trying his best not to fuck this up somehow and Carlos is beaming at him.
“Like -” Jannik gestures around him, like that would explain things. Carlos seems to eagerly await his response, and Jannik sighs, exasperated with himself. “You’re a very good player. It works, whatever you do.”
There’s a scent patch on both of them. It’s standard issue to put on, neutralizing most of everyone’s smells - omegas, betas, and alphas - but Jannik can still detect the reach of Carlos’ scent. It’s like Carlos is trying to reach out to him, to lure him in.
It’s sweet. It is honey. Not the kind that that you can put on top of your dish. It’s more like the sap, the one that once you touch, you’re never letting go.
Now he gets it: what everyone has been saying. Carlos might be a walking, playing honey trap.
Jannik cuts his deep breath short, not trying to intake more than he should. That’s control. That’s treating Carlos more than a designation. His colleague deserves more than to be reduced to a scent.
Carlos clearly isn’t trying to do it on purpose. He’s happy, Jannik can tell that. Happy smells like every sweet and nice, and mouthwatering to any person who is within the vicinity.
That’s not his fault, and while Jannik now gets the locker room discussions of the Carlos, it makes him more sad for those people who could not treat Carlos as something more than a smell.
If Carlos notices the change of Jannik’s posture, the tensing of his shoulders, he doesn’t acknowledge it. He’s still radiating from what Jannik said.
“Thank you, Jannik.” His voice is low, cheeks tinged with color. “I think everyone has their own things, right. Tennis and the diets and the practices, they all mess up something, right?”
“Yeah.” The answer comes out easy, though his mind drifts.
Jannik thinks about himself. He can’t imagine if he had gone into rut mid-tournament. He almost did. He had to drop in round three with “illness.”
Then he remembers the time the drugs he took weren’t compatible with his hormones at the time, and he nearly lashed out at an umpire.
Sports are both control and a show of their raw physicality simultaneously, and the line keeps shifting. The balance of instinct and mastery keeps swaying, and it’s their job to keep upright.
Carlos is still smiling when Jannik stops thinking about his own mini mess-ups, still smelling so sweetly. If that is him with the scent-patch, he cannot imagine the totality of scent without it.
“I think you’re one of the only one who doesn’t smell like sex,” Carlos says like it was nothing.
If Jannik were drinking his water, he’d be choking on it. He blinks once.
“Thank you?”
“Not like that. I mean-” Carlos flails his hands a little bit, trying to explain further. “I know people think I smell good, but you’re not reacting strongly to it.”
“Do you want me to tell you that you smell good?” Jannik furrows his eyebrows, and Carlos begins to laugh. At him? With him?
“If you want,” he says, “But you don’t smell like you want to pin me down and have your way.”
Don’t give him the image.
“I am going to hope that is a good thing,” Jannik says cautiously.
Carlos stands and walks over to Jannik. His hand raises and pats over Jannik’s chest twice before it lingers. He begins to walk away, stepping past him, hand sliding over his skin.
“It’s both,” Carlos admits in passing. “I don’t want to be some submissive omega, but I wonder if I do anything for you.” The omega takes two steps past, reaching for his bag.
Jannik watches the curve of the top of his back when he leans down, the muscle tensing under the sweaty shirt. It’s unconscious, and he’s happy that’s the lowest his eyes move.
You do.
Nonetheless, Jannik offers, “You could find someone else.” The words taste wrong, but he keeps going while Carlos slips his hands through the arm holes. “If you want someone who smells like sex.”
What he really means is someone who will smell like they want you
Carlos makes a face he can’t quite decode to one singular expression. His features shift, though, and Carlos steps forward again.
He makes an intentional show of inhaling. Jannik goes still, though he was already rooted in place.
“You don’t smell like sex,” Carlos says again, “You smell better.”
What?
With that, Carlos offers one final smile before he turns. His right arm raises in a dismissive wave. “Bye Jannik. Good luck with the tournament.”
It takes a while for Jannik’s brain to catch up to say, “You too!”
Carlos’ scent brushes over and past him like the feeling of a flag would. It remains in the air for longer than it should.
Still calling.
Jannik won’t answer.
Not yet, he supposes.
Fuck, he forgot to ask about what Carlos wants.