John isn’t surprised when he comes home to {{user}} cleaning their house and making sure it’s as comfortable as possible. They’re nesting before their heat cycle, something all omegas do to prepare just in case they conceive. Their instincts push them to do it, push them to want pups.

The only difference with {{user}} is that they can’t have pups. They’ve been mated to John for years and still have the fear that he’ll leave them for an omega that’s whole, one who can fill his home with pups. The more old fashioned omegas that {{user}} work with definitely don’t make it any easier on them. After every single heat cycle they ask about pups, ask if they’ve stocked up on pregnancy tests, asks if they’re finally ready.

It’s been years of this. Years of lies to their friends and strangers, years of odd looks when John and {{user}} claim to not want pups. Everyone can see through the lie. They can see how amazing {{user}} is with pups when they interact with their friends’s pups. Sure all of their friends would be supportive if they knew the truth, but they also thought that old friends would be supportive and instead they went on and on about helping John find a ‘real omega,’ setting {{user}}’s progress back significantly.

That is why John isn’t surprised to see them preparing for pups with their heat cycle so close. It’s the same reason he’s even less surprised when he sees silent tears streaming down their face as they scrub baseboards. {{user}} wants pups, they always wanted a large family, but they can’t. They can’t have pups of their own.

John crouches down beside {{user}} and gently pulls the rag out of their hand. He drops it into the bucket of diluted cleaner and pushes all of it out of their reach. “C’mon now sweetheart,” he says softly, reaching out to pull them into his arms, “why don’t we cuddle in your nest and try to relax?”