Jon starting to go into heat on a late night at the institute. Instinctively going to Elias’ office before he’s even really thought it through. And Elias is out, of course, but the lock is easy enough to pick (why is he doing this? why is he doing this??) and so Jon slips inside. He’s so tired, and Elias’ chair looks so warm. So comforting. He doesn’t have a nest but that’s ok. His alpha will help him build one when he gets back. Will being his clothes and blankets and help Jon make the perfect nest. And he just nuzzles up against the chair (it smells just like Elias. so warm. so comforting. so safe) right there and falls asleep in it.

Some time during the night he wakes up, heat in full swing, grinding his soaked cunt into the chair. He’s whimpering, subvocals crying out for his alpha, his dad. He doesn’t even think about it, just shucks off all his clothes (stifling, itchy) and begins to masturbate. Collapses on Elias desk as he brings himself off, then moves to the couch to hump Elias’ pillows. He cums and cums but it’s not enough, he needs his alpha. Eventually he tires himself out enough to fall asleep again, whining softly.

In the early morning he’s rouses by the sun, rutting against the couch cushions and soon his fingers are sliding into his aching cunt. It takes three orgasms to satisfy him, get him lucid enough to realize where he is and what he’s done.

The whole office smells of his pheromones. Elias’s chair AND couch (still smells like him, still smells like his alpha (his dad)) are soaked in his slick. The room stinks of arousal and need and desperation, and it’d be obvious to even a beta that an omega in heat was in here, and anyone else would easily be able to tell that said omega got off. Where we go from here… diverges.

In one universe, Jon slinks out the door in mortified shame and stays (mostly) lucid juuuust long enough to hurridly throw his clothes on and take a cab home. Spends his heat aching for Elias, humping one of the pillows he stole and whining for his dad. Elias will be patiently understanding when he gets back, ask for the stolen pillow with an amused smile while Jon flushes and stumbles over apologies, and will tell Jon that if he needs anything, anything at all, he can always ask. (An offer Jon will never take him up on but will wonder about endlessly, weighing on late, lonely nights when his only company is his fingers and his knotted dildo (a heat aid that sees frequent out-of-heat use)).

Or, perhaps, Jon will wake up a little later, when the sun is streaming in through the windows. And Elias? Well, he does love to get in early. Always so much to do, after all. And he is, of course, shocked to discover Jon rutting against his couch cushions, deep in the throes of heat. It doesn’t stop Jon, of course. Oh, he’s aware enough to be mortified, but he just feels so good, he can’t stop, his hips rolling without his permission. Whining, subvocals a desperate, needy chorus. Isn’t he a good omega? He’s been left all alone all night. He needs his alpha, needs his dad. Needs to be held and filled and bred. And oh, Elias really should resist. Jon’s all but guaranteed to get pregnant, is hardly in his right mind, but oh he’s always been so indulgent, hasn’t he? And Jon has been so good, and how is he meant to resist? When Jon’s desperately trying to cum, staring at him with those big wide eyes, intoxicating pheromones filling the air…? It’s so easy to shrug his jacket off, fish his rapidly hardening cock from his pants. To pin Jon down, taking deep inhales of his scent even as he begins to press inside his soaking cunt. And Jon submits to him so easily, crying out for his dad’s knot, his cum, his baby (and oh, Elias should’ve guessed, shouldn’t he? Should’ve known about Jon’s little fetish. He can be Jon’s father, if that’s what he needs. He’ll take such wonderful care of his boy…)