Omega Jean spent so much time on suppressants that once he comes off of them, his scent is terrible. It's sour and rotten and burnt, like berries left too long in the sun. He has to resort to deodorant & perfume.
His doctor assures him it is temporary. His hormones have to adjust and find balance. Not only is he no longer taking suppressants, but he's been living under so much stress and trauma, it's not strange that his subconscious wants to keep people away instead of attracting them.
It is ironic how much Jean cares about this. Him, who cursed his Omega from the moment it was clear he had one. Him, who would've done anything to be left alone back when he didn't have the choice to be. He wonders if the smell is a reflection of his blasted existence.
Rotten because he is rotten. Sour because there is nothing left in him that isn't. He wonders if now that's he's finally embracing his nature, if he will be denied the comforts it naturally provides and he will have to endure the rest.
He wonders, but he can't wonder for long, because people are getting close to him regardless. The Trojans come and laugh and touch him and scent him and never show their discomfort with more than furtive nose scrunches. Cat and Laila don't deny him any affection.
And Jeremy... Jeremy and his delicious crisp scent of citrus and sea salt that follows him around, always as close as Jean lets him, joking about how it's not that bad without even the slightest of flinches. Jeremy, who is the first to notice when Jean's scent starts to change.
Not because he's an alpha.
Because he's always paying attention to Jean.
"You're changing," he says one day, sounding almost awed.
Then Jean notices too. a hint of something sweeter beneath all that bitter: fresh blackberries, warm spices were there was burnt.
Then everyone else can smell it to, but to Jean's shock they don't treat him any differently.
His scent continues changing, growing sweeter with every passing month, and Jean doesn't know what to do with the relief that blooms in his chest that the Doctor was right. The relief every time someone notices.
Jeremy, who presses his nose against Jean's neck and breathes in.
Jeremy, who has loved every version of his scent.
And now the blackberry and vanilla, too.
As though none of them were mistakes.
As though they were all just Jean.
Every time Jeremy notices.
And now, he lets himself enjoy it. Lets himself enjoy being wanted. Being scented. Being an omega.
And for the first time, the thought doesn't feel like a punishment. It feels like finally he's free.