Chapter Text
Prem doesn’t know what happened.
First, Ten had acted like this knight in shining armor: there when Prem needed him the most, touchy when Prem needed him to be touchy. Then, when the threat disappeared, Ten became shy and closed off, meek and uncomfortable with Prem being so close.
Maybe dreams do give people a shot of confidence. They get to act like they’ve never acted in real life, because it’s not reality.
Ten in their dreams is touchy and talkative and oh-so-sweet— The reality…
“It’s fine,” Prem stresses to both Dynamite and Samsi, who have hounded him with questions and unwavering sympathy. “I’m not broken up about this.”
Dynamite side eyes Samsi. “Your alpha basically shut you out, Prem.”
“We just met,” Prem snaps, picking up his knife from the counter and beginning to cut through their washed vegetables. “I’m not expecting Ten to act all sweet towards me immediately. He’s shy.”
“He’s an alpha,” Dynamite comments.
“And that’s a microaggression.” Prem shakes his head. “It’s like saying all omegas are motherly. Or all betas should date betas. Alphas can be shy, and lack confidence.” Monologuing to himself, Prem continues to cut on, sliding the finished veggies into the big salad bowl. “You get it? I mean, Dynamite is an alpha and he doesn’t act like…” Just as Prem turns around, he sees that both Samsi and Dynamite are glaring daggers at Boon and his friend duo. In that moment, Dynamite really does look like an alpha, his teeth bared and fingers, nearly white, digging into the counter.
“We saw what you did to our friend,” Dynamite growls when they pass. “You’re lucky his alpha was lenient, I would have ripped you to shreds for picking on Prem.”
Boon scoffs and shifts to stand on his other foot. “I was just coming to ask you three if you were joining the Master Chef Challenge.”
“What?” they all say in unison, Prem scrambling to listen closer.
“Monster Chef Challenge?” he asks, voice high in skepticism.
“It’s for a new trio,” Boon says, too saccharine, obviously wanting to tell them about the competition for the sake of beating them. “Only one trio can get through, and it’s not like yours will win. Haven’t you heard, an omega has never won before, so it’s not like you can win anyway.”
“Hey!” Dynamite snaps.
“It’s fine.” Prem puts out his hand, stopping Dynamite from going farther. “He’ll have to eat those words when we crush them in the competition.” Flicking up his eyebrow, Prem puts on a farce of confidence, but his inner omega wobbles at how high the expectations are for him.
At least his friends are there to crow back at the 3B, stalking around like the mightiest animals of the jungle. Prem swallows hard when he makes eye contact with Boon, perhaps there's something to that old stereotype of omegas instinctively fearing alphas.
—
Prem goes into the changing room, his heart beating a thousand miles per hour. He changes out of his uniform, wanting to run down to his bike and zoom his way home, yet just as he gets out the doors, a certain alpha stands up, face open and vulnerable.
“Prem,” Ten says quietly, walking forward and peering down at his face. “You look pale and your scent is very nervous…are you alright?” Prem goes to nod but ultimately he shakes his head and dives right into Ten’s arms.
The alpha stiffens right up, turning into a statue. Prem doesn’t care, he knows his alpha doesn’t like touch, but he really needs this right now. Rubbing his cheeks against the front of Ten’s shirt, Prem ingrains his scent and makes sure it stays with a few extra rubs for the sake of his own jealousy.
“Prem,” Ten says again, placing his hand on the crown of Prem’s head. Though that hardly registers compared to the way his alpha’s voice rumbles right through his bones. It’s so soothing, all Prem’s worries kind of float away and he’s in a state of pure bliss; he can’t say how long he stays like this. At some point, his limbs go numb, and Prem needs to step away before his knees collapse under him.
“I’m sorry,” Prem whispers, eyes falling down to his hands. “I just—”
He stutters over his words until Ten says, “Class hard?” Sounding genuinely understanding.
“More like the people,” Prem mumbles, setting his backpack down on the bench and riffling through it until he finds the perfectly folded handkerchief in the zip lock baggie which he had placed in one of the special side pockets. “This…um, this is yours?” He presents it awkwardly, nearly falling over his feet when Ten snatches it out of his hand and yanks it out of the bag.
“Thank you so much!” Ten smiles, his eyes turning into nonexistent crescents with how chubby his cheeks are. Prem wants to grab the alpha’s face and squish the soft flesh. Yet, before he can do anything, much less answer with a ‘you’re welcome,’ Ten brings the handkerchief to his nose and gives it a sniff. “It also smells like you. Even better.”
Prem blushes, scratching his neck awkwardly. “I kinda slept with it.”
“That’s okay.” Ten beams, tucking the handkerchief into his pocket. “I’m too shy to ask you for an item with your scent, so this will do for now.”
“You like me?” Prem says stupidly.
Ten nods his head, pushing his glasses up when they get jostled. “You are my omega…the prettiest in all of the culinary faculty.”
Prem can’t say anything back, all of it dies on his tongue as he fights the urge to bury his face in his alpha’s chest once more. His ears must be cherry red as he says under his breath, “Don’t hang around any other omegas, alright. You’ll send the wrong message.”
“I don’t even know any omegas that personally, nor do I want to meet another,” Ten soothes, or at least his reply is enough to soothe the prowling omega in Prem that wants the bite of alpha on his neck, now. “Oh, can I give you my number, so we can go out to eat, maybe? Just tomorrow, in the medical faculty’s cafeteria.”
“Sounds good to me, I’ll make you something.” Prem grins, digging into his pocket to present Ten his phone.
His alpha may be shy, but at least he can find enough confidence to move their relationship forward.
—
“Okay, put a pause on the beer, they are playing nice,” Dynamite instructs, sending Samsi a thumbs up. They’ve been hiding in their corner, spying on Prem and his alpha, who to their knowledge had only been one of many students named Tossatis in the medical faculty. “Operation Find-Prem’s-Alpha has been solved.”
“They must have planned to meet up in their dreams,” Samsi adds, stroking his chin. “They are kind of picture perfect. Tiny omega, tall alpha…”
“But everyone knows Prem wears the pants in the relationship.” Dynamite laughs, yet the humor doesn’t last. Around the corner, he sees the flash of a white smock, and short black hair. He’s seen that before, but only his dreams.
Racing forward, leaving Samsi to shout his name, Dynamite slides around the corner and the boy in the white smock is suddenly much closer than he should be.
The tumble down onto the floor, the look of outrage so familiar that Dynamite swoons. “Looks like you fell for me~” he sings.
“Get off of me!” Fire shouts, pushing Dynamite face down on the floor. It hurts for a second, but Dynamite is too busy seeing hearts through his rose-colored glasses. “Who are you?!”
“Your soulmate!” Dynamite chimes.
“You are an alpha!” Fire points out.
“A good-looking alpha.” Dynamite smirks, rolling over and getting in that ‘draw me like one of your French omegas’ pose. “We’ll be the best-looking alpha couple.”
“Look, dude,” Fire says in a calm voice, although it edges toward insanity. “I am not into alphas, I only like omegas. See, I was just with my friend who came to see his omega—”
“Prem?” Dynamite finishes with an evil grin. “He’s a pretty omega, but I’m sure I am more dashing.”
“This isn’t about looks!” Fire screams, bringing his hands up to his head and grabbing his hair. “I’m not your alpha!”
“But I saw you in our shared dreams~” Dynamite blinks big, sad eyes, and Fire looks momentarily shocked before he gets his bearings back.
“We don’t share dreams,” Fire says with finality.
Dynamite snorts. “Wait till tonight, you’ll be dreaming of my beautiful face.”
And Fire does in fact see Dynamite in his dreams. His scream is loud enough to shake his house, and warrant a lecture from his mom about having quieter nightmares…