Chapter Text
Bachira Meguru understood there was something different about him.
His mother had always insisted it was his spark. Something that set him apart from the world and made his view something unique and special.
Unique and special clashing with freaky and strange was a dichotomy he’d grown well used too. Growing up had been a series of dodging bullies and trying to figure out the right people to keep his head down around. Bachira was terrible at keeping his head down, though, so he might’ve gotten himself caught up a few too many times in things he could’ve avoided. That was just how he saw things, though. Then he presented. Omega. And he’d not thought much more about it. It was another part of him, something to deal with just the same as how his mind tended to whirl subject so subject. His attention span was thin on the best of days and yet when he tunneled in on something he could spend literal hours fixated unless shaken out of it. His teachers yelled at him for doodling in class. He’d accidentally pull all-nighters if he got to far into the weeds on a project. But he’d learned well enough to manage himself alone. And that was the key point there, wasn’t it?
Alone.
Bachira Meguru had always been alone.
He had no siblings, and only his mother in the household, whom he could objectively recognize was also rather eccentric, just as her son was. So by the time he was going off the college, he was completely comfortable with being alone. Preferred it, actually. He could go where he pleased and do as he liked without anyone he cared about giving him sideways glances. He could ignore whispers and snickers as he went about his day, because he didn’t put any stake in what those people thought of him. The entirety of his first year, he’d been that way. And he’d never made a single friend. A couple passing acquaintances in the art department that he liked well enough, but never anyone he’d consider an actual friend.
That suited him just fine.
Then, one day in the fading summer early in the first semester of his second year, he’d climbed a lamppost in center campus for a better view of one of the buildings he was sketching for a portfolio. He’d tunneled in on his work, dangling by his knees from the wrought iron, not paying even the slightest attention to the wide-eyed stares of people going about their business between the other buildings or across the garden-like green space over which he’d climbed.
Well, that is until…
“What are you doing!?”
Bachira had looked down, and seen an alpha staring up at him.
In retrospect, the omega wondered why his face at that moment had so perfectly seared itself into his memory.
Dark bags under the eyes hinted at the same university crush Bachira had grown used to. His clothes were frantically put together, and mismatched enough it was obvious they’d just been thrown on in a hurry, conserving each second of time. But his eyes were a startlingly bright blue. Like crystal. Black hair framed his face and hung with an uneven swipe over his forehead. Pale skin, flawless complexion, and a mouth hung slightly open as he seemed to be trying to comprehend just how Bachira had even gotten up there.
Bachira hadn’t known it at the time, but that young alpha staring up at him was Isagi Yoichi.
And Isagi Yoichi, in less than two months from that moment, would become his court mate. Propose to him on a footbridge behind the library with a beautiful lantern-shaped pendant necklace that commemorated their first meeting, as well as some other second thing Isagi refused to share.
Bachira had always been alone.
He’d thought he was completely fine with that.
Oh, how wrong he’d been.
Because now he had Isagi and every time he came to that realization anew, it made his beast purr in his chest.
Which was certainly interesting, considering he’d never felt his beast much, even after presenting. That separate slice of his consciousness had never been prevalent outside of heats, and while his mother had lectured him on how to notice the signs, how to see when the line between his consciousness and his instincts was blurring, he’d never had anything like that happen before.
That was why it was strange. Awfully strange.
One day he was headed toward their usual study room. The new semester had begun, he and Isagi had been courting for nearly three months, but a major chunk of that had been the separation of the winter holiday. Bachira had never been more excited to go back to school, just to see Isagi again. They’d leaped back into their routine with a few new additions. Namely, Isagi had taken up a tutoring gig at the campus library, and he worked a couple of those hours right before they would meet up at the art building to take up post in their usual room. So, as the omega trotted his way up the stairs to the second-floor landing, his backpack thunking off his back with the weight of multiple notebooks, his tablet, and boxes of art supplies, he found his heels digging against the tile. Worn out converse sneakers squeaked in the quiet of the study floor, his eyes wandered out the window.
From here, he could see clearly across the small open plaza in front of the art building, from which a short sidewalk led straight to the library. It was an old classic brick building with large windows on its second and third floors and another open area in front of it. Holding the door to the library was Isagi, and right behind him, out came another young man. A freshman, Bachira supposed, considering Isagi could only tutor those in classes below his own. He was wearing a dark maroon skirt over black tights, and an overlarge sweater sporting their university logo across the chest. The sleeves puffed over his wrists, and his short, caramel-colored hair was swept in wavy strands from his forehead by a thin black headband. He was about half a head shorter than Isagi and was smiling up at him. They were still talking about something. Isagi made a comment, and the omega laughed. Bachira could just imagine the airy quality of his voice as if he were standing there listening to it. Even though he’d never met that guy before in his life. They walked next to each other across the open courtyard in front of the library. Bachira felt something stirring in his chest at how close together they were, the mystery omega seemed to be trying to keep close for some reason. They reached the sidewalk, and Isagi waved. The expression he received back, fully visible to Bachira considering Isagi was walking toward the art building, was practically glowing. Soft, lovely, curving features that drew up into a beaming smile.
Isagi waved, and the omega waved back, and then they went their separate ways.
Bachira felt something twisting inside him. He quickly averted his eyes to their study room door. Producing his student ID, he swiped it against the card reader, and it blinked green. Once inside, he deposited his backpack in one of the spare chairs and began unloading all his things. Notebook, sketchbook, a box of charcoals, colored pencils, his tablet, and stylus. He stared at all the things, neatly piled up in front of his usual chair.
That glowing expression on the omega's face flashed in front of his eyes.
He had to bite his tongue to keep down a whine.
Who was he? A tutoring student, right?
Isagi had several hours back to back, it made sense he’d walk out with whoever he had last since they’d finish at the same time.
And Yoichi is so friendly. Of course, he’d hold the door, and make small talk. There’s nothing else to it.
Bachira forced this to the forefront of his mind. Even still, the jittery, nervous sensation in his chest refused to settle. It buzzed there, like his beast was pacing, irritated. He’d never felt this way before.
It was a knock on the door that shook him from his thinking.
He spun, and within a few strides, he rounded the table and pulled the door open.
“Hey! Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Isagi asked as he came in.
Bachira pasted up a grin. “Nope! Just got here.”
He reached out, grasping Isagi by the hand and pulling him through the door.
An overwhelming urge to get closer nearly took him. He wanted to lace their fingers together, bring their shoulders close, and peck kisses against the alpha's cheek. He wanted to nuzzle his neck and touch his hair and know he was the only one who got such a privilege.
Me. All mine.
Bachira had always run under the assumption that alphas were the ones who got easily possessive, but that idea was being flung back into his face. Perhaps plenty of omegas felt this way too? Or was this Bachira just being an oddity again? He was well used to that. He’d never had enough lower friends around to actually know for sure. These things had never kept his attention, either, so he’d never asked his mother such questions as this.
But seeing another lower who at least seemed to have been behaving like he was eager to get close to his alpha made him want to whine again.
But he’d sooner sit through one of Isagi’s math seminars than let such an embarrassing, not to mention uncalled for, noise escape his throat.
So despite all those pin-balling thoughts, Bachira satisfied himself with a parting squeeze to Isagi’s hand as the door clicked shut.
Isagi was beaming his way, blue eyes shining bright and a fondness rising up to cloud them as he leaned forward.
Bachira was surprised by the kiss, but he wasn’t at all against it. Isagi’s lips were soft, his bangs were long enough that when he leaned forward, the omega felt them against his forehead. His scent was amber, and the fresh breath just after heavy rain. It shifted and curled toward him, and for a brief moment, Bachira wondered if maybe Isagi wanted that closeness too.
But then it was over, and while Isagi pulled away, his gaze still shone brightly.
“Lots to do, huh?” He commented, eyes gliding past his court-mate to the stacks of paper and his tablet on the table.
Bachira reminded himself to breathe, settled his nerves, and nodded.
“True that. How about you? New job go alright?”
They settled at their usual spots, Isagi got out his laptop and textbook, another small notebook already filling up with jotted-down thoughts and numbers.
“Yeah, really well. I was nervous, but I guess I’m not half bad as a teacher. Several of the students, all of them were freshmen, complimented me. That was nice, definitely eased my nerves. I’d hate to waste their time, y’know? ”
Bachira hummed affirmatively, resting his cheek against his hand, propped on the table.
Complimented you? Complimented you how? Which ones? Was it that last one, the one who was looking at you that way? What did he say?
Ridiculous questions spiraled around half-formed, but he swallowed them.
“Oh yeah? Well, that’s good to hear! I knew you’d kill it, but don’t be too good, or they’ll book you up! Can’t be taking too much time from me!” The jab came out easily, but Bachira couldn’t ever recall having intended to say it. Say something so overt, that underlined that pacing sense of distress still wearing down his chest.
Isagi chuckled, shaking his head. “Aw, come on, you’re the loose cannon, don’t tell me you want to start up a schedule now?”
“We’re here, aren’t we? Baby steps.”
“Fair enough.”
They both laughed.
Bachira focused on his work, focused on ignoring the coil, trying to force himself to forget the strange sensations. Isagi gave him that look, with eyes that glowed and a smile that seemed somehow more elusive, purer, and attached so plainly to how he felt. His alpha looked at him like that, him and no one else.
But of course, when that beautiful young omega had beamed at Isagi and waved goodbye, from where Bachira was standing at the window?
Isagi’s back had been to him, he couldn’t see his face at all.