Every Friday night Alec comes over to watch old tv shows and movies with you. It’s a small sense of security and routine for the both of you. Something good to look forward to. It’s late, and your legs are draped over Alec’s lap while his hand is lazily tracing shapes along your calf. But suddenly everything changes.

You notice how tense he suddenly becomes. You look over at him and see his jaw tightly clenched, his breathing becomes more sporadic, and the look on his face tells you his mind is somewhere else. “Alec?” you ask concerned. “You okay?”

He blinks, then looks at you and swallows hard. “Yeah. I mean…no. I have to go.”

You sit up. “What? Go where? It’s late-”

“I have to go,” he repeats sharply. He’s then on his feet, grabbin g his jacket, and avoiding your gaze. You could tell he was panicking.

You stand, moving in front of him, blocking the door. “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Move, please,” he says through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

Your stomach flips. “Alec-”

“It’s the DNA,” he snaps, finally meeting your eyes. There’s desperation and guilt in his voice. “Twice a year, it makes me rut. All control goes out the window. It makes senses sharper: touch, scent, you. And when you’re this close, I can’t think straight. I usually know when it’s coming,” he continues, his cheeks warm from embarrassment. “I disappear. Ride it out alone. Safer that way. But this time… it snuck up on me. And I can’t be near you when I’m like this. I refuse to put you in danger.”

He turns to leave again, but you reach out and grab his wrist, holding him there. “You’re not a danger,” you say quietly. “You’ve protected me a hundred times… let me do the same for you.” His breath stutters, he definitely can’t believe what he’s hearing and goes to protest before you stop him. “You don’t have to suffer through this alone. If you don’t want me to, that’s okay… but you’re my best friend, and I don’t want you to suffer.”

Alec’s shoulders shake slightly, his restraint slowly unraveling. “You sure?” he whispers. “Because once this starts, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”