Chapter Text
Keiji glanced over at the living room for the third time that morning while he prepared some tea for himself and his unexpected guest.
He didn’t mind Atsumu. He would even say that they had become somewhat friends over the years. He’d played against Inarizaki on many occasions in high school. Koutarou and Atsumu had played together on MSBY for many years, the alpha even asking him for advice on what to do if his husband ever shut down and went into one of his “moods” during a game. Atsumu had also been around to visit his mate a lot since he had moved to Tokyo that year, and even babysat for them on rare occasions.
But Keiji had never really hung out with Atsumu one-on-one.
If it hadn’t been terribly rude to do so, Keiji probably would have shut the door in Atsumu’s face when the other man showed up at his apartment that morning. Koutarou was off at work, their older two children were at school, and Keiji had plans to get some editing done while the baby napped later that morning.
But a nap seemed less and less likely, as Atsumu was currently playing peekaboo with her and riling her up in the living room, her giggles and happy shrieks ear-piercing, as Keiji waited for the kettle to come to a boil.
Keiji wasn’t sure why the alpha had shown up unannounced, had politely tried to sidestep and told him Koutarou wasn’t home, maybe he could come back later, but Atsumu had just shrugged and grinned and said, “Nah, I’m actually here to talk to you.”
Keiji dreaded to find out about what. Keiji didn’t miss the way Atsumu used to shamelessly check him when he thought Koutarou wasn’t looking. Didn’t miss the oddly flirtatious remarks the alpha would make when Koutarou was out of earshot. Keiji never said anything to his husband, figuring it wasn’t worth it to mess up their team dynamics, and Atsumu was harmless enough. (Not that it made a difference anyway– Keiji never looked twice at alphas who weren’t his mate.) But he didn’t appreciate the leering either. And though Atsumu’s wild side had calmed over the years, and he eventually only looked at Keiji with respect, and as a friend, he was still a bit of an enigma to the omega.
“Atsumu-san,” Keiji said, placing the tray with the kettle and cups down on the coffee table, as he sat in the chair next to the couch.
“Thanks,” Atsumu said, picking up his cup as he finally turned his attention off Keiji’s daughter as she crawled away to play with some blocks.
Keiji picked up his mug and waited for Atsumu to finally tell him why he was there. Atsumu had been acting strange since he stepped foot inside. The tension and awkwardness were palatable, but Keiji refused to fold first. He was content to sit in silence and stare the alpha down from across the living room until he spoke.
“Um…” Atsumu started, clearing his throat.
Keiji just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Can I ask ya something?” Atsumu said, hands fidgeting, a drip of tea spilling from the edge of his cup.
Keiji simply nodded while he prayed that the next words to come out of the alpha's mouth weren’t something uncouth. Maybe Atsumu hadn’t matured as much as he thought.
Keiji got to work preparing his rejection speech in his head.
He would have to tell his husband about this, and the previous incidents as well. It would ruin the friendship between the two alphas, not to mention make going to Onigiri Miya very awkward. The Tokyo branch had just opened too, which really was a shame. Plus Atsumu was like an uncle to their children, it would break Keiji’s heart to explain to them that they couldn’t see him anymore. It was one thing for Atsumu to make a pass at him when they were both still in their 20s, before he and Koutarou were mated and married, before they had three children together. But it was entirely something else for Atsumu to do now, while his alpha wasn’t home, and in front of their daughter.
Atsumu was shameless.
Keiji was so busy spiraling that he missed Atsumu’s next words, which sounded less like a sexual proposition and more like incessant ramblings about true mates and omegas.
“Excuse me?” Keiji blurted out.
“So, could ya tell me what it felt like?” Atsumu asked.
“What…what felt like?”
“Ya know…” Atsumu continued, eyes staring down into the mug in his hands like the hot liquid would give him the answers he was searching for., “That moment when ya realized Bo was yer fated mate?”
Oh.
Maybe Atsumu wasn’t a good-for-nothing, knot-headed alpha after all. Keiji needed to work on not getting ahead of himself.
Keiji set his tea down on the table and cleared his throat.
Kiyoomi woke up in a cold sweat.
It had been a while since he had dreamed about Yukio’s father. He rarely thought of the alpha these days, but that didn’t stop his brain from conjuring up nightmares about him. Thoughts of the alpha coming to take Yukio away, and Kiyoomi being powerless to stop him. Thoughts of the alpha biting down on his neck, marking him and ruining him, claiming someone that didn’t belong to him, someone that was never even his, to begin with.
Kiyoomi quietly rolled out of bed, thankful that he had woken up before his alarm. Not that he had overslept again since the last time. Kiyoomi had double-checked his alarm nightly to ensure he didn’t repeat that mistake.
Yukio had snuck into his bed at some point during the night, even though Kiyoomi wanted to stay there and pull his pup in tight and never let him go, afraid that his nightmares would manifest into reality in the waking hours, another long and tiresome day of work and school awaited him.
So the omega did what he always did–shoved the exhaustion away and got up to start his morning routine. Kiyoomi was careful not to wake his son as he gently closed the door behind
him and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the two of them.
Kiyoomi hadn’t been able to eat eggs since the incident last week. He had spent what felt like hours cleaning the kitchen after he had put Yukio to bed that evening– scrubbing the sticky yellow yolk off the floor, washing all dishes, even the clean ones from the cabinets, bleaching the counters and floor, his cheeks burning with shame while he had done so. Everything felt dirty and wrong, his usually quiet omega was feeling unsettled and grumbling at him, words that Kiyoomi couldn’t comprehend through the fuzzy disconnect.
Yukio had asked no less than three times when they could go back to Onigiri Miya again.
“The food was so yummy, Daddy. And Miya-san was so nice! Please, Daddy, please?
Kiyoomi was running out of excuses and reasons to tell his son no.
He still felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out again when he thought about that night.
When he thought about Miya.
Kiyoomi thought his preheat was approaching, despite the industrial strength suppressants he was taking to prevent such a thing.
The last alpha who had consumed his thoughts this much had been Yukio’s father, and even those thoughts paled in comparison to the ones he had been having about Miya.
Miya was a stranger. Kiyoomi wanted to know everything about him.
He was forward and assuming. He was so sweet to Yukio.
He was immature. He was playful.
He was old. His biceps looked so strong.
Kiyoomi shook himself from his daze while he opened the freezer, sticking his head inside to cool down his burning cheeks.
The dream he had had two nights ago about Miya was the worst one of all– even worse than the nightmares about Yukio’s father.
Kiyoomi had woken up with a gasp in the middle of the night, his underwear uncomfortably wet, a throbbing in his core that he usually only felt in the throes of his heat.
He’d cranked the shower to cold, teeth chattering as he scrubbed his body clean, refusing to touch himself and give in to the deranged fantasy from his dreams.
Miya didn’t see him like that. Probably had just taken pity on the poor single omega and his pup, and wanted to look like the alpha hero in front of his son. Onigiri Miya served hundreds of customers every week, and Miya had probably long forgotten about Kiyoomi and Yukio by now.
Kiyoomi was just embarrassing himself by letting the alpha take up so much space in his mind.
Not that it mattered anyway–Kiyoomi wasn’t interested in alphas or dating. He was sure with some time and space, thoughts of Miya would fade to the background, even if his omega seemed hellbent on not letting Kiyoomi forget about him.
Atsumu’s head was spinning as he left Keiji and Bo’s apartment after their talk, the omega offering him a sly smile and a “Good luck with your omega, Miya-san.” as his parting words.
Atsumu had been what Osamu had so quaintly dubbed, “a fucking lunatic”, ever since he met Sakusa Kiyoomi the week prior.
He’d purchased at least ten jasmine-scented candles, though his alpha grumbled at each of them, none of them smelling quite as sweet as Kiyoomi had. He’d dropped a full tray of onigiri when a man with black curly hair (a man who was decidedly not Kiyoomi, Atsumu had realized upon second glance) had walked into the restaurant, his brother asking him what the hell was wrong with him as Atsumu just apologized and began to pick the rice grains from the floor. His alpha was constantly on high alert, inspecting every passing stranger on the street, searching for one omega in particular.
Osamu hadn’t been wrong, Atsumu felt as though he had well and truly gone crazy.
After Onigiri Miya had closed that night, he’d forgone making soup and picking up medicine for his poor sick brother and family (it was supposed to be a surprise anyway–so he’d technically broken no promises since Osamu knew nothing of his original plans in the first place.) He’d instead opted to have it delivered from elsewhere, his brother would still thank him for the gesture.
Sakusa Kiyoomi garnered no hits online– on social media or search engines.
But pages and pages of information about true mates popped up.
Atsumu had been so consumed in his reading that he had hardly noticed as the moon left the sky and the sun began to rise.
Some people's accounts were filled with love, with happiness, with hope. Mushy gushy sugary sweet shit that Atsumu would have gagged and rolled his eyes at even a day earlier, but now made his heart thump in his chest and his alpha complain instead.
Other stories were more tragic though. People being rejected by their fated mates. People who were already mated to someone else. People who had tried to be with their supposed perfect partners, but it not working out in the end for one reason or another, and only heartbreak ensuing as a result.
It seemed even the universe made mistakes at times.
Atsumu shuddered at the thought.
But in all his searching, he couldn’t find a single story about one side of the fated pair having a stronger reaction to their mate than the other.
Kiyoomi had looked at him like he was unhinged and weird, and that’s when Atsumu knew he had to talk to Keiji.
Keiji has always been a straight-faced, no-nonsense individual–which is why Atsumu had almost dropped his cup of tea straight onto the carpet and fallen off the couch in shock when the omega began answering his question.
“Well,” Keiji had said, a dreamy look on his face as he went on and on, “It’s hard to describe. My omega just knew, of course. Coach Yamiji and the other alphas on the team had to hold Kotarou back from claiming me then and there. Yukie-san and the other omegas helped me to the nurse’s office, and she called my parents to come pick me up. It kick-started my first heat, and I would have let Kotarou mate me on the dirty gym floor if they hadn’t made me go home.”
The version of events Bo had told him before had certainly been more PG.
“Yeah, but…” Atsumu cut Keiji’s story off before he could give any more details, deciding he did not want to hear about his friend’s knot, especially while his daughter was in the room.
“Do ya think an alpha can know they’ve met their fated mate, but not the omega?”
Keiji seemed to ponder that for a moment, before slowly responding.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just…curious.”
Atsumu hated that about Keiji. His gaze was absolutely unnerving. He didn’t know how Bo dealt with it on a daily basis. One stern look from the omega and Atsumu wanted to vomit up every lie he had ever told and every secret he had ever kept.
Keiji looked amused and obviously didn’t believe sheer curiosity was the only reason Atsumu was asking. But he told Atsumu his theory anyway.
(“You really should have paid more attention in health class, Miya-san.”)
Keiji had told him it was rare, but not unheard of, for people to sever the connection between themselves and their dynamic. Of course, it wasn’t possible to cut off that bond completely, as dynamics were a part of us, just as our flesh and blood were. Some people could quiet the connection, quiet that inner voice, dampen their scent and their instincts, and put up an imaginary wall between themselves and their omega or alpha.
It usually only happened after something traumatic. Something so devastating that it was easier to walk around the world in a daze than to face the truth and carry around pain instead.
Atsumu’s stomach dropped at the thought.
But Keiji had told him that restoring that connection was possible as well. But that meant facing your problems head-on, slogging through the pain and hurt, and crawling your way to the light on the other side.
“I am just speculating here,” Keiji said, setting his now empty glass down on the table. “But I imagine if someone has cut themselves off from their omega, it would dampen the reaction if they were to meet their match. But you cannot outrun the inevitable, and I’m sure their omega would try and fight back against it. It’s likely a matter of time until those feelings bubble to the surface, and they have no choice but to face them.”
Atsumu pondered Keiji’s thoughts as he walked aimlessly down the street. He didn’t have any plans for the day, and his alpha felt too on edge and distracted to work on the article he had been planning to write when he got home. Atsumu felt partially reassured by his friend’s words, but worried as well. It wasn’t his place to comfort Kiyoomi and swoop in and solve all the omega's problems, even if his alpha seemed to think it was. Atsumu knew better than that.
Despite the pull Atsumu felt towards the other man, Kiyoomi obviously didn’t feel the same way.
Yet.
But Atsumu was hopeful that with time, Kiyoomi would.
Atsumu came to a full stop in the middle of the sidewalk, an omega mother behind him tutting at him as her stroller bashed into his ankle.
Atsumu ignored the dull, throbbing pain and mumbled a hurried “Sorry ma’am.” as she scooted past him. He was too busy looking through the glass of the cafe window to care about blocking the sidewalk.
Atsumu had no way of tracking down Kiyoomi and had been desperately hoping that he would come back to Onigiri Miya again so that Atsumu could get his number, had even notified Osamu to inform him if the omega came back when he wasn’t around the restaurant.
(“How the hell am I supposed to know what this omega looks like? Do ya know how many people come in every day?”
“Call it twin instincts. You’ll know Samu, just trust me.”
Osamu had barely concealed an eye roll, but he promised Atsumu he could be on the lookout.
It had only been a week, and Atsumu knew he was being impatient, but every passing day that went by without news about Kiyoomi set his alpha on edge even more.)
Which was why Atsumu was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, like a complete fool.
Atsumu thought maybe he had misremembered how beautiful Kiyoomi was, but he hadn’t.
His hair was tied back with a headband today, a few stray curls falling onto his forehead, and a face mask covering the bottom half of his face. Even with the mask on, Atsumu could imagine the omega's face was downturned into a frown if the crinkle in his brow was any indication of his annoyance as he took someone’s order at the register inside the cafe.
Atsumu ignored the judgmental stare from a passing couple as he chuckled and smiled to himself and pushed open the door to the cafe, the bell jingling overhead as he did.
The universe was on his side today.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Kiyoomi said when he heard the door open, his back turned as he prepared a large black coffee for the previous customer. He had brewed a fresh pot only ten minutes ago, but that asshole alpha insisted he wanted a fresh batch and wouldn’t take no for an offer.
Kiyoomi sure hoped the alpha enjoyed his decaf though. It was a small and petty gesture but lightened the omega's mood slightly.
The only good thing about this day was the fact that his boss wasn’t in, and he didn’t have to wear his usual scent patches to hide from his lecherous looks. Kiyoomi’s scent glands had been irritated all week, rubbed raw and red when he’d peeled off the patches after a long day of work or class. He had worn the same brand for many years and was worried he had maybe developed an allergy to them.
He would have to ask his cousin what brand he used when Motoya came over later that evening. Yukio had been bouncing off the walls in excitement that his Uncle Toya was coming to visit. Kiyoomi didn’t bother correcting the pup, even if he was technically his first cousin. Motoya was more of an uncle to Yukio than his siblings were. They were so much older and lived so far away, they only saw his son at the rare and awkward Christmas celebration with his parents. His siblings never said anything or treated Yukio with disdain, but Kiyoomi could still tell they silently judged him for his choices. Motoya was the only family member who embraced and loved Yukio with no strings attached.
Kiyoomi was exhausted and looking forward to spending time with his cousin as well, even if he would rather die than admit that aloud. Recently, he had only seen Motoya in passing while dropping Yukio off or picking him up after his cousin babysat for him, and it had admittedly been a while since the two of them were able to just sit and talk and enjoy each other's company.
Maybe Kiyoomi’s omega would feel more settled afterward.
“What’s yer favorite drink on the menu?”
Kiyoomi’s neck prickled. He knew that voice.
“I don’t care for coffee,” Kiyoomi replied, voice sounding more steady than he felt.
Kiyoomi took his time pouring the freshly brewed coffee for the other alpha and setting it down on the bar, slowly turning to face Miya, hoping his cheeks weren’t as visibly flushed as they felt.
“Hmm.” Miya smiled, glancing up at the menu board. “I’ll take a caramel latte then. Extra caramel, and add whipped cream to that too.”
He was more dressed up today than he had been at Onigiri Miya, with slacks and a button down on, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Kiyoomi tried to not linger on his exposed forearms and instead looked up to meet Miya’s gaze.
That had been a mistake. Miya’s blond hair was swept to the side today, his honey-brown eyes as warm as Kiyoomi had remembered. He really was a handsome alpha.
“Are you a child?” Kiyoomi asked as he began punching the order in on the register.
Kiyoomi winced at the remark. Despite his hatred of his job, he usually did a better job of being polite to the customers. But of course, Miya just laughed.
“Yer never too old to enjoy something sweet.”
Kiyoomi didn’t like how Miya’s comment implied he was speaking about more than just coffee.
“How is Yukio’s hand doing?” Miya continued, sounding more serious this time.
Kiyoomi paused, his finger hovering over the total button. He had convinced himself that Miya had long forgotten about him, but the alpha obviously recognized him as well.
Kiyoomi’s scent glands itched, and the omega suddenly wished he had worn patches today despite the irritation.
“He’s doing much better,” Kiyoomi said as Miya swiped his credit card to pay. “Thank you again, Miya-san.”
“There's no need to be so formal. Ya can just call me Atsumu, ya know.” The alpha said, “We’re friends now, right, Omi-kun?”
Kiyoomi prickled again. He’d foolishly almost forgotten how forthcoming the alpha was.
“I don’t know if I would go that far.”
It seemed Kiyoomi could be as rude to the alpha as he wanted and Miya only let it roll off his back.
He really was quite peculiar.
Kiyoomi was grateful to turn his back on the alpha as he busied himself preparing his disgusting latte, his brain suddenly reminding him of the dream about Miya from earlier that week.
Those big hands running over his body and wrapping themselves around his waist. Those strong arms easily tossing him around. Those sharp alpha teeth biting down on his neck.
Kiyoomi slapped his hand against his neck, feeling his scent involuntary leak out, releasing his pheromones like a horny teenager. That hadn’t happened in years outside of his heat.
The effect Miya had on him scared him, and he rushed through finishing the drink, hoping the alpha would take the hint and leave the cafe before he embarrassed himself further.
“Everything okay, Omi-kun?”
Of course, Miya missed nothing, a sly grin on his face as Kiyoomi turned to hand the alpha his drink.
“I’m fine,” Kiyoomi grumbled.
Miya didn’t look like he believed him, but he made no further comment, opting to take a sip of his drink instead.
“Delicious, thank you,” Miya said, face wincing. The drink was piping hot, and there was no way that stupid alpha hadn’t just burned the shit out of his tongue.
Kiyoomi couldn’t help but snort.
“I’ll see ya around, Omi-kun.” Miya said as he walked towards the door, “I’m working this weekend, ya and Yukio should come by for dinner!”
Kiyoomi gave a noncommittal answer as he watched the alpha go as more customers filtered in, giving him no time to process what had just happened.
But onigiri for dinner soon did sound good, and Yukio would certainly be happy about it. Maybe he would stop by.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later, after the rush of customers, that Kiyoomi noticed the 4000 yen shoved in the tip jar. The omega caught himself smiling, despite his annoyance. He knew exactly who put it there.
That asshole.
Motoya sighed as he collapsed on the couch next to Kiyoomi.
“Yukio’s finally asleep.” The omega said, chuckling, “I don’t know how you do it, Kiyo. He seems to have endless energy. I thought my back would break if I had to give him one more horsey ride.”
Kiyoomi just hummed, too tired to explain to his cousin what he already knew–Kiyoomi did what he needed to do, not because it was easy or always fun, but because he had no other choice. Motoya hadn’t meant anything bad by the comment, and it would do nothing to snap at his cousin. He was just irritated at the world this week, and that wasn’t Motoya’s fault.
“Thanks, Toya.” Kiyoomi said instead, “He’s been looking forward to your visit all week.”
Motoya just smiled as he reached for the remote, turning on the tv and casually browsing the channels. Kiyoomi didn’t like the devious look on his cousin’s face as he settled on some cooking show, turning down the volume before turning his attention back to Kiyoomi.
“So. Who is Miya-san?” Motoya grinned, his eyebrows wiggling. “Yukio went on and on about him tonight, and he sounds like an alpha, from the description.
Motoya was a fucking menace and a gremlin, and Kiyoomi regretted ever inviting him over this evening. Kiyoomi had no intention of mentioning the alpha to anyone, ever. But of course, Yukio had blabbed about him at the first opportunity. Even his pup had no loyalty, it seemed.
“No one,” Kiyoomi grumbled as he sank into the couch, unable to stop his cheeks from lighting up at just a mention of the alpha’s name.
But it was pointless to try and brush his cousin off. The omega could always see right through him and would continue to pester Kiyoomi until he told him everything.
Kiyoomi sighed as Motoya looked at him expectantly, his grin only widening on his face.
“Just some stupid alpha. It doesn’t matter. He works at a restaurant I took Yukio to last week, and you know how Yukio gets around older alphas. They can just breathe and exist and Yukio is impressed. But Miya is shameless and annoying. And you know, he came into the cafe today? If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was stalking me. I barely know him and I already can’t stand him.”
Motoya was silent for a moment, and Kiyoomi looked over, surprised to find his cousin’s mouth open in shock.
“Wow. Really sounds like you hate him.” Motoya giggled.
Kiyoomi wasn’t above chucking a couch pillow at Motoya’s face.
“Can we talk about something else?” Kiyoomi begged. “It’s been a long week.”
Motoya must have been in a forgiving mood, because he just snuggled in and faintly scented Kiyoomi, his familiar teak scent calming, as he mumbled a “Sure, Kiyo.”
Kiyoomi was sure his cousin would pester him for more details later, but for now, the two omegas just relaxed, the quiet cooking show playing in the background, as they chatted about other things. Stories about customers at Kiyoomi’s work, some cute artwork Yukio had brought him from daycare that week, the hot alpha boss at Motoya’s office (“I have a boyfriend, but I’m not dead, Kiyo. I can appreciate a fine alpha from afar.”)
It felt good to hang out with his cousin and just catch up. It felt like it had been so long since Kiyoomi had just taken a break and lazed around doing nothing.
Kiyoomi needed this.
After a few hours had passed, Kiyoomi felt his eyes beginning to droop, the exhaustion of the week finally getting to him. Motoya shut off the TV, shifting off the couch. He insisted Kiyoomi stay there, and that he could see himself out and lock up behind him. But Kiyoomi still needed to clean the kitchen and set his alarm for tomorrow–he was working a double shift, and sleeping on the couch would do him no good.
Motoya was quiet as he said his goodbyes in the genkan. It was late, and the lights were all dimmed throughout the apartment.
“You know Kiyo, you kind of smell.”
Kiyoomi prickled, “Excuse you?”
Motoya laughed, only quieting down at a hard glare from Kiyoomi. The last thing he needed was Yukio waking up because his cousin couldn’t control himself.
“I mean your scent. It’s stronger than usual. I haven’t smelled it since…you know…” Motoya trailed off, not wanting to mention Yukio’s father. It was a sore subject, one of the few that was fully off-limits, even after all these years.
“It’s nice. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.”
Motoya’s comment swirled in his mind even after his cousin left and as Kiyoomi got ready for bed, plugging his phone in and shutting off the lamp on his bedside table.
Kiyoomi hadn’t realized it either, but now that his cousin had mentioned it, the usually subtle notes of jasmine filling the air were stronger than they had been in a long time.
Kiyoomi was conscious of what he had done all a few years ago when he’d heard the news about Yukio’s father and how he had mated someone else. He knew shutting down his connection to his omega was unwise, unnatural. But that was the only way he had been able to not let his grief destroy him. He’d done it for Yukio’s sake, and he didn’t regret his decision.
But his omega had been feeling so off-kilter lately. The usually subdued omega part of his brain had been pounding against the glass walls he had put up. That plus his stronger-than-usual scent, his irritated scent glands, and his dreams about Miya and Yukio’s father must just mean Kiyoomi was long overdue for his heat cycle.
It had admittedly been a while since he had one, taking his suppressants against his doctor’s orders.
He would try and go off his medications to have one for December. It was still two months away, and it would be hard to endure for that long, but Kiyoomi had been through worse before. That time would be easiest, as he would be on break from school then, and he would just pick up some extra shifts at the cafe in the meantime to pay for the gap in his schedule when his heat did come.
A heat would fix his problems, Kiyoomi told himself in the darkness of his bedroom.
His omega would settle and quiet down again, he could forget all about Miya, and Kiyoomi could go back to how things were.
Kiyoomi repeated the lie to himself again and again in his head, as he finally succumbed to sleep, praying that night would be peaceful and dreamless.