Katsuki had been courting you for three months now, and every instinct he had as an alpha screamed that something was wrong. Not with you, never with you, but with how this was supposed to work. He'd bring you his scent-marked hoodies, watch you hold them politely, and see absolutely nothing happen. No relaxation, no comfort, no sign that his pheromones affected you at all.

You had scent-blindness. A rare condition that made you essentially immune to the chemical signals that governed most alpha-omega relationships. While other omegas could find comfort and calm in their alpha's scent, you got nothing.

It frustrated the hell out of him.

"You don't have to keep bringing these," you said softly, fingering the sleeve of his latest offering—a black hoodie that reeked of caramel and smoke to everyone else. To you, it probably just smelled like laundry detergent.

"I want to," he said, but his jaw was tight. Every alpha instinct he had demanded he should be able to comfort you, especially now with your heat approaching. The pre-heat symptoms were obvious—the fidgeting, the slight fever, the way you kept checking the calendar with growing anxiety.

Other omegas had their alphas' scents to ground them, to ease the transition. You had nothing.

"It's different for me," you had explained early in your courtship, voice matter-of-fact despite the pain Katsuki could see in your eyes. "I don't get the... scent comfort thing. Never have."

Which meant you had been dealing with heats alone for years. The thought made Katsuki's hands spark involuntarily.

Now, watching you curl up on the couch with his hoodie—not because it smelled like him, but because it was soft and you were trying to make him feel useful—something cracked in his chest.

"This is stupid," he muttered, dropping onto the couch beside you.

"What is?"

"This whole... scent thing. Like it's the only way to—" He stopped, jaw working as he fought for words that didn't come naturally. "You don't need my fucking pheromones."

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice.

"You think I'm courting you because of some biological bullshit?" His red eyes were fierce, almost angry, but not at you. "You think I brought you those flowers because my alpha brain told me to?"

You were quiet, uncertain.

"I brought them because you mentioned liking that color. I cook for you because you work too hard and forget to eat. I text you good morning because I want you to know you're the first thing I think about when I wake up."

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with surprising gentleness.

"Everyone else gets distracted by scents and pheromones and all that instinct crap. You see me. Actually see me. Not just some alpha whose chemicals make you feel good."

Your breath caught. You had always wondered if maybe the scent-blindness made you broken somehow, less appealing as an omega. But Katsuki was looking at you like you hung the stars.

"So no," he said firmly, "you don't need to smell me for this to work. You just need to want me. And I need to want you. Everything else is just..." He shrugged, almost dismissive. "Extra."

Your heat would come whether you could smell him or not. But now you wouldn't face it alone, and not because of some primal compatibility. You would have him because he chose to be there.