Chapter Text
Once he was outside the building, he took off back toward his apartment. He was pretty well known for running around campus, but this wasn’t a run just for the sake of feeling his lungs burn or the thump of his backpack off his back. This was a desperate need to get behind closed doors somewhere alone. Where he could just try and process, understand, and settle his feelings. Hopefully brush this whole ordeal under the rug.
He made it back to his apartment and locked the door behind him. His small studio was made up of a single somewhat sizable room separated by a thin countertop that made up his corner kitchenette. A boxy bathroom by the door. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his backpack, and beelined toward his bed. He went by the futon, currently propped up in couch mode. He had a narrow bed pushed into the far corner wall, absolutely covered with plushies, blankets, and pillows, and he quickly buried himself in the nest.
That was so stupid!
He accused himself, but the foggy sensation still curled around the edges of his mind. His beast was pitching a fit by now, because all he wanted was to be close to Isagi, and instead of just asking for that, he’d pushed it away.
It was all so new. He felt so happy with their relationship, yet sometimes it was stilted. He wondered if the alpha was happy with him, and all his eccentricity. Of course, that was true. How could he find something like that so appealing, when so many others as he grew into this shape he now took ridiculed him for it? Even further, what right did he have to feel so torn up just because Isagi was spending time tutoring a pretty omega? Even if from beyond the window, he could see that lower was trying to get closer to Isagi.
I want everyone to know he’s taken, and to back off…so why can’t it be that easy?
He pressed his back against the wall in the corner and pulled up his knees.
He’s so easy to talk to…why can’t it be that easy when it comes to this?
A knock on the door.
Bachira didn’t even budge for a moment, because he’d never had company at his apartment before, so he just assumed he was hearing a knock on one of his neighbor's doors. After all, his senses still felt like they were spiking inconsistently. The hot, frustrating coil of emotions had wound itself tighter, and wouldn’t let go no matter how much he tried to breathe through it. So maybe his hearing, which had been tuning in and out of various things, was doing the same to him.
But that wasn’t the case, because the knock repeated, more insistently this time. But Bachira didn’t want to have to put up some facade to try and deal with whoever was at the door, he just curled up tighter.
Knock again.
He flung aside the blanket he’d half dragged over his head and stood up, stalking across to the door, fumbling the lock, and yanking it open a crack.
It was Isagi.
“W-What’re you…?”
Isagi’s gentle smile was like a balm over the burning coil, over his beast still thrashing in his chest.
“You forgot your coat.” He held up the faded black knee-length puffer.
Bachira blinked. He’d been in such a rush to get back and seal himself off from the world for a little while that he hadn’t even noticed the cold. Yet he had run back in nothing but a layered combo, long sleeve underneath a tee shirt.
“Oh…thanks, you didn’t need to play delivery guy.” He finally managed, taking the coat.
Isagi stood outside the door, shifting foot to foot awkwardly. “Yeah, well…I’m surprised you’re here. Didn’t you say you wanted to wander?”
Bachira hadn’t even realized that by opening the door, he’d been caught red-handed. He tried his best to keep everything light. “Eh, once I got outside, I realized I just wasn’t feeling it at all today. Figured I’d go down for an hour or two to give the ol’ imagination machine a reset.” He tapped at his temple and smiled tiredly.
That was fine, right?
He wasn’t tired, in fact, even if he tried to nap, he doubted he’d sleep, but it was a good excuse. Gave a reason for why he’d been behaving a bit strangely today. Just tired, just feeling a little off, everyone had days like that once in a while, even the excitable, endless ball of energy which Bachira Meguru typically inhabited. He hoped that was it, but instead of easily agreeing, or backing off, Isagi shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
Maybe to hide them staring to fidget uncomfortably. His eyes turned off to the side, brilliant blue darting along the doorframe.
“Ok, but…are you really sure you’re ok? You seem…I dunno…”
Bachira cocked his head left, forcing his eyes to open wider.
Isagi finally sighed, then looked back up at Bachira with a resolute expression. “Is it…are you mad at me?”
Everything screeched to a halt, and even without his senses in overdrive, the omega could have told how Isagi’s shoulders seemed to hold more tension than usual. His eyes were somber, his hands were probably clenching in his pockets where he’d hidden them.
Is that what he thought?
Well, that wasn’t good. Bachira certainly wasn’t angry at Isagi over any of this. He was frustrated, yeah, but only with himself. With his own strange reaction over something that should’ve been so innocuous that it wasn’t even worth a second glance.
“No, no, no! Of course, I’m not! What made you think that?”
Isagi shifted his weight again. “You’ve just seemed kinda short with me lately…and you haven’t been coming by my place as much, not unless Chigiri or Kunigami are there as well. Like you don’t want to be alone with me. And today, you bailed during our usual time at the study room…and I mean!”
He suddenly pulled his hands from his pockets and put his palms up disarmingly. “I’m not accusing you or anything! If you haven’t been feeling great lately that’s probably why, and I’m just being stupid and misunderstanding things! Yeah, that’s all! Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything…you get some rest, ok?”
Seemed like he was dismissing himself.
Bachira, meanwhile, was realizing that just as much as he’d been struggling to understand problems that seemed almost intangible, Isagi must’ve been doing the same all week. All on no fault of his own. He must’ve been untangling scenarios and conversations, trying to pin down something that might’ve gained him his omegas ire, trying to figure out what he ought to apologize for.
Because that was the sort of person Isagi was. If Bachira came out and said he was angry about Isagi tutoring a pretty freshman, Isagi would apologize for it. Even though he’d done nothing wrong, he’d be willing to swallow his pride and say he was sorry for something that wasn’t even his fault.
Which wasn’t the point.
Bachira wasn’t angry. He was just frustrated and confused. Thoughts were pin-balling past him way to fast, and he just wanted to settle everything. So even though he felt strange, a crawling sensation that creeped up his spine, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I made you think that.” He grabbed Isagi by the wrist. Tugged.
“You wanna come in?”
Isagi blinked at him owlishly. “Uh. I mean, if you wanna get some rest I totally get it! I’m not offended or anything, really, I…”
“It’s fine, Yoichi. Just come in.”
So Isagi did come in, and Bachira made an awkward gesture across the small space. “Guess you’ve never been over before, huh?”
Which was odd, but then again, perhaps it was like a last bastion?
Bachira was still getting used to the concept of never having to truly be alone again, after all.
“No. It’s cute, you have so many plushies.” Isagi commented, smiling. But it was tense. Bachira didn’t like it. He wanted the breezy, comfy banter they always managed to return. In order to get that, though, first he had to get ride of this foggy sensation inside him. The burning hot coil, his beast pacing and pacing and pacing till he wanted to scream or cry or, or…he wasn’t even sure anymore.
He walked in and dropped back to sit on one side of his futon, still propped up in couch mode, and patted beside him.
Isagi kicked of his shoes and removed his coat, then joined him.
When he sat, he sat further away then he usually would. Careful and considerate to a fault. Bachira felt the coil squeeze, his beast clawing and trying to get up his throat again. Make some sort of sound that would trigger the beast in his alphas chest to take care of him.
Just the thought of it was about as embarrassing as it was deliriously wonderful. Bachira really did wish he’d paid more attention in secondary ed at this point. A few seconds ticked by quietly, agonizingly quiet, and Isagi finally planted his hands on his knees. “Have you got tea or anything? I’ll make it for you, always helps me when I’m not feeling good.”
He made to stand, perhaps just to get some sort of movement, some sort of change in the atmosphere.
The idea of him moving any further away was like a stab wound.
What am I doing?
Bachira considered in that moment. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t the type to wallow, or to hesitate, but this was all so brand new. He already valued this relationship far to much to allow something like his mismanagement of lopsided emotions screw things up. That was why he was trying to paint over the cracks, hoping that if he ignored it long enough, it’d go away. Yet with every passing day, in two weeks time, it’d only gotten worse. Over something so pathetic and small it made him angry.
Perhaps in a moment fitful from lack of clarity, he lost his grip. Even though he dropped his head into his hands, fingers raking into his hair and nails digging in against his scalp, it snuck out. A soft, pitiful little whine.
Immediately Isagi was back down. Having half stood up to go make tea in hopes of lightening the mood. He had an arm around his court-mates shoulders, and his voice seemed deeper when he spoke again.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
This time he said it flatly. Not too firmly, not harsh enough for it to sound like it couldn’t be refused. But all the same, it was a demand, not a question.
Somehow, that made things way easier.
And Bachira felt like all the frustrating, burning hot feelings he’d been having for two weeks now were at last let free.
“I just…when you leave the library there’s that guy with you and…and I don’t care! What do I care!? You’re just tutoring him! But he’s just…he’s so close to you, and the way he smiles at you, and…and I can’t see your face, from the window. And that’s it! I always have to look from outside! From a window, from behind glass! Even when I’m right next to you! I don’t get it! I’m not…I can’t…I’m just being weird again.”
He sputtered weakly.
Isagi took a moment before he answered, probably turning over the gathered information in his head. He was the analytical sort, he always thought things through before speaking.
“You know you’re the only one, right? I’d never…”
Bachira cut him off with another whine, this one high and keening and frustrated as he tossed his head back. “I know that! I know it so well, it didn’t cross my mind even for a second, not seriously! I know it’s only me! For me, it’s only you! So why does seeing you with him, seeing him look at you like that, make me so…so…”
He grappled with it again, he felt hot again. Even with Isagi’s arm around his shoulders, in his own apartment with just the two of them, he felt like he was viewing everything from behind glass. Or through bars. Like he was trying so hard to connect to something with which he was somehow fundamentally incompatible.
To his surprise, though, Isagi breathed a sound that was almost humored. Like a laugh, but it was quiet against Bachira’s ear. Which didn’t make sense, considering the rest of the world had been unbearably loud the past few hours.
“That’s a relief.” Isagi said, and Bachira turned his head enough to see his face. Blue eyes settled, practically oozing with fondness as they matched to Bachira’s.
“Relief?” He repeated back, unconvinced.
“Yeah. You didn’t think anything was going on, right? I’m relieved. I’d feel so terrible if somehow I’d made you think that.” Isagi elaborated.
Bachira shook his head. “No, no, of course I didn’t! That’s why I didn’t wanna bring it up, because it…what else does it sound like? Me being upset over something like this…it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. It’s normal.” Isagi assured.
“Liar.”
“Am not.”
Isagi’s voice still felt deeper, more rumbling. It was soothing, that sound. His scent was headier, comforting and easing, trying to curl around the omega and carefully unwind that tight, burning coil in his chest. Isagi’s other arm came around to pull him closer and hold him tighter.
“…y’know, it makes me happy, in a way. That you feel this way.”
“Huh?” Bachira’s voice was muffled against Isagi’s shoulder, where his head had wound up rather forcefully tucked, not that he was complaining.
“Because I mean that much to you. I’m glad.”
And with that one little statement, Isagi had flipped the entire situation it’s head. Bachira wasn’t being strange and overly possessive. According to Isagi, he was acting perfectly normal. He was frustrated to see someone trying to get closer to his alpha. He was only this close to a fit because he hadn’t expressed it any proper way all this time.
Isagi was happy, because it meant, to Bachira, he was this cherished. Enough so to get this worked up over something so plain.
“…I didn’t think of it like that.” Bachira admitted.
“Yeah, I figured. Don’t worry, it’s fine.”
Bachira picked his head up a bit from Isagi’s shoulder, enough to free his arms from where they’d gotten awkwardly pinned against the alphas chest and wind them around his waist.
Pulling himself closer, he tried to settle his nerves. His senses were coming back down from the spiking highs they were hitting, and Isagi’s scent was so lovely. It was clearing the fog from his brain, and replacing the burning coil and the whining of his pacing beast with a sensation that made him want to purr.
He didn’t quite recognize what he was doing till he’d already begun nuzzling the side of his head against the juncture of Isagi’s neck.
He jolted a bit when he realized, but Isagi’s arms around him stopped him from pulling away.
He rested his chin on the soft material of his shirt. “This is fine?”
Isagi hummed, again it the sound seemed to come from deep in his chest.
“Yeah. It’s perfect.”
It was something to be wondered later, how Isagi sounded almost breathless on that last word. Either way, Bachira didn’t need to be told twice. Perhaps it was normal for courting couples to scent much earlier on in a relationship, but this was the first time they’d ever done it. It felt good, satisfying that frustrated, longing sensation that’d been driving his beast into a frenzy for the past couple weeks. Isagi was all to happy to return the favor.
By the time they’d finished, Bachira had wound up straddling Isagi’s lap. They were about the same height, but he’d curled up to make himself small enough to settle his head against Isagi’s shoulder.
“…sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think I was mad.” He said, a minute or so of comfortable silence after they’d stopped.
Isagi’s arms around him tightened a bit more. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t notice what was going on.”
“It wasn’t your fault, either.”
“It was no ones fault. Besides, it’s fine. Like I said…”
Bachira lifted his head enough to see the alphas face, and he was reminded of the thought he’d had two weeks ago. Except this time he was convinced. That smile that showed the purest sense of wonder and adoration at the fact that they were together really was reserved for him alone.
Isagi spoke through that expression. “…I’m glad.”
Bachira straightened up enough to line their eyes up. “Yeah? Then I’m all good. In fact, I’m just perfect.”
***
Later that week when Bachira looked out the window and saw Isagi parting ways with that omega, it was obvious he was giving a respectful distance. His smile was polite, friendly, and nothing else. Far less bright and intense then before. Well, scent-marking was supposed to let others know to back off, especially for lowers who wanted to show they were serious.
And maybe he smiled a bit to wide when he saw how Isagi, upon turning to walk toward the art building, looked directly at the window Bachira was standing at, shook his head and rolled his eyes. Like it was some sort of inside joke. So perhaps it had been a bit excessive, and maybe he did still feel somewhat pathetic that something like that had caused him so much grief. Considering things, though, who cared? There were always stumbling blocks, and Bachira had come around to realize that he could just as easily attempt to explain things he felt he didn’t grasp. That Isagi would listen. That they could end the day curling up together in his plushy pile, and he could sleep better than he had in weeks. It wasn’t meant to be smooth all the time, even if Bachira tried to take everything in life in such a laid-back manner. He had the right to get frustrated, and confused, and complain sometimes.
And maybe that wasn’t something he should’ve had to suddenly be shaken up to realize?
But he took the stairs down in threes for the first time in two weeks, and met Isagi at the building door.
And there was nothing topping that.