Chapter Text
"What the fuck?"
.
.
.
(Understatement of the century, really).
When he'd gotten up that morning, never in a million years would Draken have anticipated the day taking such a turn. Why would he? It was a perfectly inconspicuous day. Now however, Draken could only stare.
And stare.
And stare a little more for good measure, incapable of dragging his eyes away from the sight before him–like someone had handed him a slab of ancient hieroglyphics and told him to cite them backwards, forwards, and upside down.
The alleyway was dark and grungy, passage so narrow that the rusted dumpster nearly hugged the opposing wall. Just another one of those urban shitholes that they passed by everyday, without a second thought. It wouldn't have been any different today, if it weren't for Mikey.
They'd been heading to their favorite local café for a quick bite to eat, intent on filling their bellies before making their way to the pre-planned Toman hangout, generously hosted at one of Pah-chin’s family properties (without his parent’s knowledge, certainly, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them).
But then the smaller blonde had all but frozen. With a quick intake of breath, Mikey's dark pupils had pinpricked, and suddenly he was bounding down the sidewalk and turning abruptly into the enclave. As Draken muscled down his confusion, taking long strides to keep up with the other teen, he'd heard it . Muffled mewling, high and hoarse.
He'd rounded the corner just in time to see Mikey swinging open the lid of a large garbage receptacle like it was featherweight, an intensity in his movements that Draken had only ever seen in battle.
And then there it was.
In the midst of all the filth, swaddled in a shabby old blanket swatched top-to-bottom in yellow ducks: a pup. A pretty young one too, by the looks of it. Draken stared in disbelief, as Mikey unceremoniously hoisted it out of the bin, squalling and squirming all the while. As the Toman leader held the baby closer to his body, low rumbles emanating from his chest, Draken blearily recalled that his friend was an omega.
It was easy to forget sometimes.
In fact, it was a truth hardly acknowledged in their circles, excluding the gang leader’s mysterious week-long absences three times a year since he was twelve. Outside of Toman, it was considered all but sacrilege to suggest: just a rumor spread among lowlifes looking to get their teeth kicked in. After all, why would one of the strongest biker gangs in Shibuya have an omega as its top commander?
Draken observed silently, as Mikey cradled the pup one-armed and used the other to remove his uniform jacket, wrapping it up with an uncharacteristic tenderness. It was a rather chilly morning. Surely something in this picture had to follow basic logic.
“Mikey… you alright?” He took a tentative step closer, yet his words seemed to be the necessary trigger to break the disquieting atmosphere settling over them. At his name, Mikey whirled around, eyes fixed and keen and a snarl on his lips. Draken only raised his hands placatingly.
“Hey, cool it man, it’s just me.” Though his hackles seemed to lower, Mikey remained abnormally guarded, subconsciously shifting the pup nearer, halfway hidden and dangerously close to a sweaty teenage armpit.
‘Huh. Would y’look at that.’ Draken mused half-heartedly. ‘Guess he really is an omega. Deep down.’ His friend had never been one to act on stereotypes, so this –- getting defensive over an unrelated alpha in the presence of a pup– felt like truly a once in a lifetime occasion. Absolutely bizarre. Like traipsing through the Twilight Zone. Unfortunately, Draken’s confliction over the situation shattered into startling clarity, when Mikey finally spoke.
“Mine.”
“H-hah?! Mikey, you can’t just–-” Too late. The shorter teen turned on his heel and began marching back the way they came, cooing (honest to God cooing !) and rubbing his scent against the baby’s soft, wrinkled face. Draken could only sigh in exasperation, as he quickly moved to follow.
The day that Mikey burst (2 hours late) into a Toman hideout with one-track determination, damp and dirty little bundle in tow, was a day the pack would never forget. Their leader didn’t say a word. Didn't stop to speak with anyone, and actively growled at anyone who got in his way, as he made a beeline toward the staircase leading to the upper floor. Asking Draken what the hell was going on proved to be less than helpful as well. All that he could provide was that Mikey had found a very young pup in a dumpster and immediately gone on the defensive with it.
‘It’s probably best to wait until he calms down a bit. Think the guy’s gone feral, to be honest. Omegas in feral states are known for uncanny strength and aggression…’ This was the first time that many of them also remembered: 'ah, right... the boss is an omega...'
Mikey reached the guest room, entering and kicking the door shut with unnecessary ferocity, as he set the pup down on the top comforter with trance-like attentiveness. It was a nice room. Much nicer than that smelly old dumpster. He hoped his pup liked it. If not, he’d just have to move safehouses to another one of the Hayashida properties. Surely Pah-chin wouldn’t mind.
At that moment, the pup kicked one of its chubby legs, wriggling partway out of the jacket he’d secured it with. He immediately reached out to rest his palm atop its head, cupping and stroking the downy hairs in quiet focus. An instinctive purr built in his throat, and after a few moments, the pup appeared to respond, nuzzling its face against the gentle hand. Something clicked into place, and Mikey’s chest felt full with an emotion he was of no mind to identify. The pup whimpered again, and suddenly the omega was on his feet.
Fussing about the room in a half-frenzied state, he gathered spare sheets and blankets–- pillows and clothing–- anything soft, really–- arranging them into a makeshift nest (in truth, built more like a defense fort). The pup's cries crescendoed, causing Mikey's inner omega to whine out in discontentment. The little thing was probably frightened by all the new and unfamiliar scents. Everyone knew how important it was for pups to have the stability of a dam's scent to hold onto. Otherwise they could quite easily become overwhelmed. But this poor pup had been all alone for who knew how long. Mikey felt his face twist into a snarl, as he was reminded of the conditions in which he’d found the pup. Who would dare leave it in such a cruel way?
Unfortunately, Mikey had only little time to stew, as his subconsciously angered scent only served to further aggravate the babe. The omega quickly tried to reign it in, attention again focusing completely on the helpless little creature before him. Pulling his dirty Toman jacket off the child, tossing it to the side and quickly kicking off his boots, Mikey settled down within the nest. He lifted the pup with abnormal consideration, and began to groom it–- a ‘him,’ as it turned out–- graceless, yet earnest.
Later that evening, Draken volunteered to go and check on Mikey and his... new charge... seeing as the omega hadn't come down for a group meal at any point (which was, perhaps, even more uncharacteristic than the whole mama-bear-act, if he was being honest). He found the blonde nesting, curled protectively around the mystery pup, who was, remarkably, cleaned and bundled in a spare throw blanket. He really hoped Mikey had found something to use as a makeshift diaper.
At the intrusion of a new scent, the baby stirred and began to fuss, immediately shaking Mikey from his slumber, as he turned alert obsidian eyes on his closest friend and vice-commander.
Draken wasn’t an easily frightened person, but even he couldn’t help the unease that washed over him then. A feral omega protecting its young was nothing to scoff at on the best of days, yet Mikey was the unknown in this situation. A wildcard whose possessive proclivities could give even rutting alphas a run for their money. He decided it was best to err on the side of caution, and shut the door slowly, careful to keep his hands in Mikey’s line of sight through the entire process.
“Easy there, Mikey.” The alpha started, actively keeping his voice calm and level. “It’s just me.”
Mikey grunted. Though his body language had somewhat softened, it was still tenser than Draken would like it to be.
“Just checking up on you and the pup.” He gestured to the baby, clasped protectively in Mikey’s arms. “How y’doin’?”
Mikey’s eyes flickered back and forth between the nameless pup and Draken’s face a few times, yet he remained silent. Draken sighed again. He’d been doing that a lot lately. The alpha rubbed the back of his head in contemplation.
“Look, Mikey. I know you wanna take care of it.” He needed to tread lightly here. “ But honestly, we’ve gotta figure out a game plan. What are we gonna do with a pup, huh?” Mikey growled, and Draken continued speaking over the growing tension in the room.
“He needs proper care. From people who know what they’re doing. None of us can give him that.” It was the truth. No amount of will could change the fact that Mikey had never nurtured anything in his life. The omega was running on nothing but clumsy instincts, and it would only get him so far. It was best to nip things in the bud before someone-– the pup, Mikey, or worst-case-scenario, both–- wound up paying for it.
Unfortunately, reason and instinct were notorious adversaries.
Mikey’s dark eyes narrowed, and Draken knew immediately that the boy was not pleased with what he was hearing. After a tense moment of worry that his friend had taken his words as a slight against his capabilities as a caretaker (which… they kind of were, but that was neither here nor there), Mikey, at last, lowered his head. Deciding to be optimistic, Draken chose to interpret this as a sign of understanding.
“Hey.” He risked a step forward, and hovered his hand just above Mikey’s shoulder, before thinking better of it. “We’ll figure all this out together, alright? For now, just… jeez, I dunno, get some more sleep. You look exhausted, man.”
The smaller blonde let out a huff of air in response, posture relaxing again, as his vice commander made his way back to the doorway, shutting it softly behind him. Things were far from over, of course, but Draken would do his best going forward to support that pup’s best interests. He knew better than most what it was like to be abandoned.