Shiro felt unclean. He had never had to describe heat to anyone before, for everyone he knew had learned it in health just like he did. He scrubbed hard at his body, tears suddenly filling his eyes. He grew fearful for Pidge, ashamed that he had lied to him; the testosterone pills wouldn't have stopped his heat, but he was telling the truth when he said not to take them together. The chemicals inside would react badly, causing massive damage, and in one Omega's case, even death. He had to find some way to help Pidge if he went into heat, for he could never live with himself if something happened while he was under his care.
Toweling his hair dry, he sat shirtless in his reclining chair, eyes closed. His ears caught the faint knock, and he rumbled a low invitation of entrance. He opened an eye to see Pidge, clad in feet pyjamas covered in green lions, something he had picked out at the store. Shiro couldn't help the way his heart squeezed, and he felt the sudden urge to protect the young Omega. "What can I do for you, Pidge?" He asked, draping the towel around his shoulders. "I'm looking for a book," came the vague reply. Clearly, Pidge was distracted, but he was relieved to note he wasn't the cause. No, Pidge's eyes were glued to the vast shelves, filled to bursting with novels, tomes, scrolls and even ancient notebooks, all filled with fascinating tales, or facts, or even simple pictures that danced across the pages and seemed to leap from the seams.
Shiro rose to his feet, smiling as he walked to Pidge's side. "Read anything you like, except for the ones behind my desk. Those are very old, and they're falling apart," he explained softly, glad when the Omega didn't argue. He watched Pidge pick through book after book, before gently extracting an old tome about Omega anatomy. Shiro grew pale, almost ashamed to have that on his shelves, but instead of questioning him, Pidge curled up on the nearby couch and promptly began to read, the very tip of his tongue between his teeth, eyes scanning every last sentence on every page.
It was dawn by the time he was roused. He had fallen asleep in his chair watching Pidge read, and he shifted, groaning, the blanket over him falling to the floor. He blinked his eyes briefly, then looked at Pidge, who had a tray in his arms, eyes bright. "Good morning, Shiro!" He chirped, placing the tray on the desk, looking better than yesterday. It seemed he had showered in the night and changed his own bandages. Shiro yawned, briefly closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Pidge was curled up with another book, munching on a piece of toast. He didn't seem to notice that he was reading a book for a young child, the illustrations bright and cheerful. Shiro suddenly realized with a jolt just how young Pidge really was. The boy was but a child himself, but he was happily taking testosterone and accepting everything that life had thrown at him. He was wiser than the oldest Alpha it seemed...
Dusk found Shiro sprawled on his bed, snoring away. Pidge was quietly painting his nails a bright, pretty pink, having gotten a sudden mean streak. When he shifted, Pidge bit his lip to muffle his squeak, but when Shiro's eyes began to open, he darted away, unable to keep from howling with laughter. Shiro blinked, looking at his nails. He looked after Pidge, calling out, "Aren't you gonna finish them?"