"That's my favorite shirt, though," Jason protested, crossing his arms and huffing.

Look, he understood nesting was a thing, and he understood that familiar smells were important, blah blah. He wasn't an idiot. And he knew that sometimes, even with blockers and suppressants, some omegas still went into mild heats and wanted to nest. He wasn't one of those people who hated them or anything.

But this was his favorite shirt. His! Shirt! It was bad enough that his friend kept stealing his spare blankets "only for a few days" and not returning them ever, but taking his favorite shirt crossed a line. He wasn't Nests-R-Us, and besides, he didn't want to deal with the post-nesting-phase scent on his shirt. Yes, he took suppressants. That didn't mean he was immune to certain things, damn it.

"Give it back," he demanded, reaching for the shirt and failing to grab it. "Come on!"

Some part of him wanted to do the alpha thing and be commanding and make it an order, but the bigger, better part of him knew that would destroy the trust they'd built between them. He could be an alpha and a (mostly) decent human being at the same time, thanks.

"Take some other shirt," he offered, growing desperate. His friend merely clutched the shirt closer, and burrowed deeper into the nest.

Jason let out a groan, running his hand down his face. He really should've just taken his things to the laundry when his friend had gone off to the heat room. But nooo, he'd been an idiot and expected that his things wouldn't simply be taken without his permission, and now he was favorite-shirt-less.

"This is why I don't hang around you during your heat," he said, flopping backwards on the floor. "Because this always happens. You steal my stuff, and leave your scent all over it, and then I have to take suppressants for weeks until the smell's gone, and then my doctor looks at me funny."

His friend's head poked out, and the staring contest began. It lasted a good minute before Jason threw up his hands. "Fine! Keep the damn shirt! But you owe me!"