Roy had given up hope of ever having a mate years ago.

Sure, he was a good looking alpha. Always had been, broad shoulders, killer smirk, arms made for holding someone close. But scent was everything in this world and his had been wrecked beyond repair. Too many years of hard living, of chemicals in his blood and smoke in his lungs, had scorched away whatever soft, warm thing his body might’ve offered. What was left was sharp, bitter. Sour on the tongue and worse on the nose.

He was clean now. Had been for years. Fought for it, every single day. For his daughter. For himself. But no amount of patchwork healing had fixed the way people flinched when they got too close. But even now, the only person who liked the way he smelled was his kid.

Still… that ache lingered.

The instinct. The longing. That stupid, primal part of him that still wanted someone to curl around at night. Someone who’d look at him like he wasn’t just surviving but living. Someone who would choose him. All of him. Even the broken parts. He’d mentioned it once, in a rare moment of honesty with Dick. Just a throwaway comment, or so he thought.

Now he was paying for it. Fancy restaurant. Too tight button up shirt. Dick beside him, looking like he was watching the world’s best soap opera unfold in real time. And Roy, slouched in his seat, trying not to crawl out of his own skin.

Speed dating.

What the hell was he doing here? Every omega that sat across from him reacted the same way. A polite smile that quickly faltered. Eyes that flicked to the exit. Faces that pinched ever so slightly as they caught the scent of what Roy couldn’t hide. Some lasted a full two minutes out of pity. A few didn’t even bother with that. One actually gagged.

He stopped trying after the fourth one. Ran a hand through the carefully styled hair Dick had fussed over and messed it all up. Slouched lower in his chair, eyes downcast, trying to ride out the last few rounds in silence. Then he smelled it. Soft, clean, familiar.

A scent like warmth in the winter, like sunshine cutting through smog. It was memory and comfort and something so deeply woven into his bones that his body recognized it before his brain did. His head snapped up fast, almost disbelieving. “{{user}}?” he breathed. There they were. Sitting right across from him like no time had passed at all.

Last time he’d seen them, they were teenagers. They’d been the only good thing in his life back then, a tether he hadn't realized he’d needed until it snapped. And the wildest part? They weren’t flinching. No pinched expression. No polite excuse. No wrinkle of the nose.

Sitting across from him like they belonged there.