Archive of Our Own ^beta

If there’s one thing that Daichi’s learned since his secondary gender was revealed, it’s that alpha pheromones smell worse than a tub of natto left out to bake in the sun for nine hours in the middle of July. As faint as they may be to him, even the slightest whiff makes him want to gag; he doesn’t know how dominant omegas can stand it. He says as much to Kenma during their weekly cafe lunch break meet-up, and receives a blank stare in return.

“...it depends on the type of pheromone,” Kenma remarks, straw held between his teeth. Both of his hands grip his drink like he’s afraid someone might snatch it away, shoulders hunched up to his ears as usual. “Positive emotions result in nicer pheromones. Those ones I can handle, though if the alpha is too intense emotionally it can be nauseating, too.”

“So alpha pheromones can smell nice,” Daichi muses, his own iced coffee sweating onto the cafe napkin, forgotten. He shifts in his armchair, crossing his legs. “I wonder why they always smell terrible to me.”

Kenma’s eyes shift from his coffee to Daichi, then back. He looks extra small in the cafe’s armchair, tucked into it like that in his oversized sweatshirt; he reminds Daichi of a neighborhood cat he used to feed as a kid: skittish, but affectionate after warming up to him. “It might be the recessive traits affecting your scent receptors. Something in your genetic makeup that triggers a different chemical reaction when you come into contact with alpha pheromones.”

Daichi lets out an amused laugh. “Looks like even my DNA seems to think my gender is wrong for me,” he chuckles.

“Sorry,” Kenma mutters, sounding contrite. “I didn’t mean it like-”

“Hey,” Daichi waves him off with a smile. “You know me. I’m not offended. If anything, it's funny.”

Besides, Daichi knows Kenma is the last person who’d ever say anything about his secondary gender. Though the younger omega may come off cold or apathetic at times, there have been many more times that he’s been sincere and considerate of Daichi, causing the two of them to strike up (what some might call) an unlikely friendship since meeting in university. If Daichi thinks about it, even their first meeting was unusual - nobody would consider almost getting assaulted by an alpha a situation where one would make a friend, but that’s exactly how they instinctively knew they could trust each other.

“You’re not missing out on much,” Kenma remarks after a beat, tapping his fingers on his cup to an unknown tune. “I’d rather that pheromones smell faint and terrible than like an overdose of perfume. Like I said, even nice ones can be overwhelming.”

Daichi hums, resting his cheek against his fist, elbow on the armrest. “They say the grass is always greener on the other side,” he murmurs, more to himself than anything else.

Kenma opens his mouth to reply when a faint, familiar, sour smell fills the air. Daichi stiffens, recognizing it immediately, and looks around the cafe. He finds the source of the smell near the register, where two men are caught up in an argument, one twisting the shirt of the other in his fist. Daichi frowns, pressing a hand over his mouth and nose. Speak of the devil and he will appear, huh?

“Kenma, let’s-” He turns back and stops mid-sentence. If there’s one thing about his secondary gender that Daichi’s grateful for, it’s the fact that alpha pheromones (despite smelling like a dumpster he’d rather stay twenty feet away from) don’t affect him as poorly as they do dominant omegas. It means that he can avoid unwelcome situations with aggressive alphas - but more importantly, it means he can help other omegas who aren’t as resistant.

A faint smell of sharp fear pricks Daichi’s nose when he helps Kenma up from the armchair, throwing their cups away by the door. He all but carries Kenma out of the cafe, chest tightening at how much his friend is shaking, and seats him on a bench in front of a stationery store, far enough that the smell has hopefully faded away for him. “Kenma, you okay?” Daichi kneels in front of him, grabbing some scent blockers from his pocket. He sticks them on Kenma gently and they take effect immediately, masking the smell of fear with a calm, herbal scent. It takes a second, but Kenma breathes in once, twice, then nods.

“...even your blockers are like an old man’s,” he mumbles, and Daichi laughs.

“Okay, you’re fine,” he says, amused. “And hey, the herbal stuff is good for you.”

Kenma tilts his head up, squinting at him. His voice is somewhat energetic despite the exhaustion lining his face. “Says who?”

Chuckling again, Daichi sits beside him and ruffles his friend’s hair. “Says me. Want me to walk you back to your office?”

Hesitating for a moment, Kenma shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I was supposed to meet someone after this anyway, so it’ll be fine.”

“You’re meeting someone?” Daichi raises his eyebrows in surprise. “No way. In broad daylight? Out in public? Is it a date?”

“We’re meeting out in public, in broad daylight. Are we on a date? He’s just a childhood friend.”

“Oh, the alpha one?” Daichi has heard of this childhood friend multiple times during his friendship with Kenma, but either due to sheer coincidence or some will of the universe, never met him. Though Kenma’s assured him multiple times that his childhood friend is someone he trusts with his life, Daichi can’t suppress his big brother instinct to ask a billion questions. Who is he? What does he do? Is he really a good guy? Are you sure you’re not being tricked?

“Mhm. So quit worrying, I can practically smell your concern from here.”

“If you could actually smell it, then you’d know how worried I am,” Daichi mutters, but there’s no bite to it. Shaking his head, he nudges Kenma with his shoulder. “Just- watch out for yourself, alright? I know you’re pretty alert already, but still. We both know pheromones are no joke.”

“Yes dad,” Kenma replies petulantly, earning himself a flick on the forehead. “Ow.”

“I gotta head back to work, otherwise I’d wait with you.” Daichi rises, then pauses to fix Kenma with a critical eye. “Should I wait with you?”

“No,” Kenma deadpans, waving Daichi away with a listless hand. “Go. I think I’d die of stress watching you two meet. Just go, he’s already on his way.”

After making Kenma swear three times to text him when he returns to his office, Daichi reluctantly starts walking back to his own office building. It’s only when he’s a ways away from Kenma that he lets out a long exhale, the taut, hard tension that he’d kept up from the moment the alpha pheromones exploded in the cafe releasing from his shoulders. Raising a hand, he stares at it rather reproachfully. “Why couldn’t I have manifested an omega trait that’s actually helpful?” he mutters lowly, watching the way his fingers tremble.

Daichi’s long accepted the reality of his secondary gender. There are some good things: his heats are barely a day long, and he doesn’t give off a scent. That, coupled with his large physique and strong looks, causes everybody he meets to assume that he’s a beta or, on occasion, even an alpha. He supposes having some resistance to alpha pheromones is also a plus, though he wishes it would smell a bit better.

But despite that, he’s still affected to some extent. It’s not debilitating, but it’s enough to remind him that even with everything else pointing him to be otherwise, he’s still an omega. That even if alphas won’t see him as one, he’s an omega.

Should I be grateful for that? he muses, raising an eyebrow. If I’m going to be recessive, at least I should be recessive to the very end-

“Whoa!” Daichi stops short as a pair of shiny dress shoes enters his field of vision, and his head snaps up. He’d been so preoccupied that he’d almost walked right into someone. “I’m sorry, I-” He cuts off with a frown. “Kuroo?”

A sly smirk tugging on his lips, Kuroo Tetsurou isn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes - to Daichi, anyway. To everyone else, he’s a stark, impressive figure even just standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, hands tucked into his pants pockets and suit jacket perfectly pressed. From the corner of his eye, Daichi counts no less than six passersby turning to look at him within the last five seconds. Wow, the power of a dominant alpha.

“What were you thinking so hard about, Sa’amura-san? You didn’t even notice me when I called out to you.” Kuroo tilts his head, gold eyes fixed on Daichi in a way that causes all that tension from earlier to come rushing back.

“Uh, nothing important,” Daichi replies a bit stiffly. Kuroo has always made Daichi just the slightest bit uncomfortable, even though he knows that he should feel the exact opposite. Maybe it’s the fact that they live in opposite worlds: while Daichi is the most recessive of omegas, Kuroo is the most dominant of alphas - smart, talented, good-looking, sociable. He’s confident but just humble enough that it doesn’t tip into arrogance, and despite having the option to just cruise through life without putting a single drop of effort due to his alpha status, actually works hard at his job. Everybody at their office likes Kuroo, but to Daichi, he’s just another reminder of what Daichi isn’t.

But it’s not Kuroo’s fault that Daichi is what he is, and it’s not something that Daichi would ever use as a reason to openly snub someone either; they’ve worked together on a few projects in the past, and they’ve gotten along well enough. He isn’t sure what Kuroo would define them as, but Daichi, at the very least, would consider them to be friendly coworkers: someone he’ll chat with a bit in the break room if they run into each other there, but would never invite out for a drink out of his own will.

Kuroo hums, clearly skeptical, but doesn’t press further. Instead his eyes drop to Daichi’s hand, still held up in front of him. “Something wrong? You’re shaking.”

Daichi belatedly, hurriedly, tucks his hand behind his back. The tremors from the alpha pheromones in the cafe haven’t completely dissipated and the last thing he wants is for Kuroo, of all people, to find out his secondary gender. “Ah, just- skipped lunch, so I guess I’m low on blood sugar. Happens sometimes.”

“That’s not good,” Kuroo frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I thought you came out for lunch?”

“No, I was meeting a friend for coffee. Didn’t have time to get food during.” Not wanting to explain further, Daichi quickly changes the subject. “What about you? Are you taking your lunch now?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting someone as well,” Kuroo checks his watch. “Though coffee does sound…tempting. You said you were meeting a friend? From work?”

Daichi’s bemused at the unexpected question, because he’s never considered them close enough to pry into each other’s personal affairs. He answers slowly, “No, from college. He works around here, so we meet up pretty often.”

“I see,” Kuroo says, a strange, unreadable look on his face.

I don’t! Daichi thinks, trying to wipe the bewilderment off his own face.

“Just wondered if he was someone I knew too,” Kuroo continues. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you meet someone outside of the office, Sa’amura. During work hours, anyway.”

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” Daichi jokes with a laugh. “It’s not like my only friends are our coworkers, y’know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kuroo mumbles under his breath, so quiet Daichi thinks he might’ve imagined it.

“What?”

“What?”

They stare at each other for a beat, a strange, startled tension in the air. Daichi bites back a sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. He’s already been through enough with the alpha pheromones from earlier to play along with Kuroo’s bizarre mind games. “Alright, I won’t keep you,” he smiles weakly, already moving past Kuroo. “I gotta get back anyway. Have a good lunch.”

“Sa’amura, wait-” Kuroo stops him, grabbing Daichi by the arm; the unexpected touch sends a jolt down Daichi’s back. The smell of cinnamon fills his nose, warm and spiced like cider.

“Wh-what is it-” Heart pounding, Daichi cuts off when Kuroo takes his hand, dropping something onto his palm. It crinkles as he looks down to see two pieces of light pink, translucent lozenges in clear plastic wrappers. “Candy?”

“To help your blood sugar. Can’t have you fainting on your way back to the office.”

“It’s not that bad,” Daichi replies in amusement. Touched by the unexpected gesture, he looks up at Kuroo with a warm smile. “But…thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Kuroo murmurs, gazing down at him. He hesitates, lips parting as if he has something else to say, but ends up pressing them shut. “I’ll see you back at the office. Get back safe.”

“You too,” Daichi replies slowly. Bemused, he watches Kuroo head off with a wave, thrown off by the whole encounter. “‘Get back safe’? It’s not like I’m walking home in the dark,” he mutters to himself, looking back down at the candy. “What a weird guy.” But he pockets the candy, a strange warmth blooming in his chest. Daichi would never let himself be swayed by an alpha’s charm when he knows that these kinds of gestures mean nothing to them - but it’s still nice, once in a while, to feel cared for.

---

The first time Daichi realized that there was something wrong with him, he was eavesdropping. Honestly, he thinks that his biggest takeaway from that time was that eavesdropping is wrong - bad things beget bad results or something like that - but the other takeaway was that omegas should be cute and make others want to protect them, and anything other than that was ‘gross’ and shouldn’t even be considered an omega.

“Sawamura? An omega? Gross, dude. I don’t even want to think about that.”

‘Gross’ my ass, Daichi thinks rather grumpily, arms crossed in front of his chest. Coming from a high school boy who wiped his nose with his hand? He’s not exactly one to talk. He glares at the copier like it’d personally done him wrong (not this time, but it has botched a few of his copy jobs before), then sighs. He’d just finished a project that required a week’s worth of staying at the office past midnight, and the combination of stress, lack of sleep, and irresponsible coworkers is making him more irritable than his younger siblings during puberty. He knows he shouldn’t be fixated on a random comment made by someone he barely knew all the way back in high school. It makes him feel pathetic every time he thinks about it, especially since that person probably doesn’t even remember the conversation, and yet- and yet-

The copier’s whirring dies down as it spits out the last page. Grabbing the warm stack of papers and the original sheet, Daichi’s about to leave when he hesitates, glancing at the machine; he feels a bit guilty for glaring at it when it didn’t even do anything wrong this time, and so he reaches out to give it a quick pat. “Thank you for your work, copier-san,” he says softly, then adds even quieter: “Don’t worry, I wasn’t mad at you.”

Chuckling at his own silly behavior, he turns around and nearly has a heart attack.

“Holy- how long have you been standing there?” Daichi clutches his chest, heart racing like he just ran a marathon.

Kuroo leers at him from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, holding a paper to-go cup in one hand. “For a while now.”

Huffing, Daichi rubs his forehead wearily. “Normally, people would make some kind of noise to let others know they’re there.”

“I did make a noise,” Kuroo replies innocently. He pushes off the doorframe, sauntering over. The way he slips his other hand in his pocket, black suit draped neatly on his tall frame, makes Daichi think of a panther stalking his prey in the jungle - then he cringes immediately at the thought. Ugh, then what does that make me? The prey?

Kuroo comes to a stop in front of him, cocking his head to the side with a quirk of his lips. “I think you were just a little…preoccupied to hear me, Sa’amura-san.” His eyes flick to the copy machine, then back to Daichi. “It’s cute that you even thank the copier for its efforts. Though I suppose that’s why you’re such a good team leader.”

Heat rushes up the back of Daichi’s neck to his ears, mortified that someone had seen him talking to the copier - even worse, that someone was Kuroo, who has a knack for teasing Daichi like it’s his birthright. Biting his lower lip, he forces himself not to get flustered. “Well, machines also work hard,” he replies, trying to stay nonchalant instead of running to dig a hole in the nearest construction lot and bury himself in it. “We should appreciate them as much as we do people.”

The regret hits the moment the words leave his mouth. Oh god. Even I know how embarrassing that sounded.

Unexpectedly, Kuroo lets out a short laugh. Despite having heard it multiple times in the past, Kuroo’s laugh always surprises Daichi a little bit - perhaps because it seems to be the only thing about Kuroo that isn’t perfect, a sharp, nasally sound akin to a hyena’s. “Yeah, that’s a very you thing to say,” Kuroo grins.

Daichi stares at him in bewilderment. I don’t think we’re close enough for you to know what would be a ‘me’ thing to say though? “Uh,” he says, entirely at a loss of how to respond to that (which seems to be the case whenever he talks to Kuroo). Deciding to just ignore it, he points at the copier. “If you need to use it, I’m done.”

“Clearly,” Kuroo snickers.

“Very funny,” Daichi mutters, moving past him. To his surprise, Kuroo follows him out of the copy room; he looks back at him, bemused. “Why are you- didn’t you need to copy something?”

“No?” Kuroo glances down at him, an amused smirk curving his lips. “I never said I did.”

Then why did you go in?? But then again, he was only holding a cup when he scared the shit out of Daichi, and he never did say anything about using the copier. But this also isn’t the way back to his desk, and if Daichi’s being honest, having unnecessary prolonged contact with the alpha is the last thing he wants today. To his relief, he notices that they’re nearing the break room and looks back at Kuroo again. “I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he starts, hoping that the other man will get the hint and leave him alone. “So I’ll see-”

“Perfect,” Kuroo interrupts him brusquely. “I’m also getting thirsty, so we can go together.”

Daichi pointedly looks at the cup in his hand and Kuroo follows his gaze.

“It’s empty.”

“Is it?” Daichi mutters. He has no idea what Kuroo’s deal is, but in face of the alpha’s clear unwillingness to leave him alone, Daichi can only wonder which is going to burn a hole in his stomach first: excessive coffee intake or Kuroo Tetsurou.

The door to the break room is open, which isn’t unusual, but as they get closer, a voice drifts out.

“...rather pick Sawamura-san.”

Another voice adds, “Oh, definitely. He never talks about it, but Sawamura-san is such alpha material.”

Feeling the worst case of deja vu, Daichi stops short. He feels Kuroo bump into his shoulder lightly, but stops him from entering.

“But if he were an alpha, wouldn’t he just let everyone know? Alphas are all like that, they want the world to know that they’re an alpha.”

“Is that speaking from experience?”

Some giggles and snickers. “So what if it is? All I’m saying is, if Sawamura-san were an alpha I’m sure we’d all know. I’m betting that he’s a beta.”

“Mmm, I can see that. Some betas are pretty alpha-like, after all.”

“Yeah, Sawamura-san is handsome, but I don’t get ‘alpha handsome’ vibes from him, y’know? Like, alphas just have this look.”

“Yeah, like Kuroo-san.” More giggles.

“Ooh yeah. Even if I didn’t know him, I’d recognize Kuroo-san as an alpha from a kilometer away.”

“That man is the definition of alpha.”

“If you opened the dictionary and looked up the word alpha, it’d just be his picture there.”

Thoroughly amused, Daichi has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent from laughing. He peeks over at Kuroo, curious to see if he’s preening from the attention - but to his surprise, Kuroo looks embarrassed, a bit of pink tinting his cheeks. It’s such an unexpected reaction that Daich’s efforts to stay silent are nearly for naught; he has to press a hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

Noticing his gaze, Kuroo frowns down at him. “Stop laughing,” he hisses quietly, making Daichi’s shoulders shake harder.

“I know we’re saying Sawamura-san could be a beta or alpha, but what if he ends up being an omega?”

The room goes quiet. Daichi, laughter instantly dying away, does the same.

“No way,” comes the first reply, just as Daichi expects.

“If Sawamura-san’s an omega, then I’m an alpha.”

“He doesn’t seem like it at all.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, it’d be wild if that were true.”

“Wild? More like impossible. I’d eat my socks if that were true.”

A smile flickers across Daichi’s face at that statement, though smiling is the last thing on his mind. Sighing quietly, he enters the break room, making sure to make some noise to alert whoever’s inside of his presence.

“Oh! S-Sawamura-san!”

The three employees - two women from his team, one man he recognizes from Iwaizumi’s team - jump up from their seats. Daichi knows that they’re probably worried if he overheard, and simply smiles at them warmly. “Don’t get up, I’m just grabbing some coffee.”

“N-no, we’re just about to get back to work,” one of the women says quickly. “Please take your time!”

The trio quickly gather their cups and papers, pushing their chairs in before hurrying out of the room. Daichi smiles to himself, amused by how flustered they are. He sets his papers on the table, moving to the counter to make his coffee. He senses Kuroo come up beside him and sets out a paper cup for him, too.

Daichi has always liked making instant coffee. Even though it’s such a simple process, it always seems to calm him down. As a kid, he would watch the way his parents prepared the thin stick packets with curious eyes - there was just something about the hiss of powder slipping from the packet, the bubble of hot water hitting the cup. The clink of a metal spoon as the powder is stirred into a cup of something sweet and just a touch bitter. They would always drop a single ice cube into Daichi’s cup so he wouldn’t burn his tongue.

As his hands go through the practiced motions, he feels Kuroo’s eyes on him. “I’m glad to know you have at least one flaw,” Kuroo remarks, which is most definitely not what Daichi thought he was going to say.

“What?” Daichi raises an eyebrow at him.

The corner of Kuroo’s lips lift just slightly, the same side eye crinkling a bit at the corner. “I never took you to be an eavesdropper,” he teases.

Scoffing, Daichi turns back to the coffee, stirring one with a wooden stirrer. Lightly tapping the stirrer on the rim, he places the cup in front of Kuroo and says, in the most dull tone he can muster, “Oh no, you got me, Kuroo-san. You found out my secret. Whatever shall I do?”

Snickering, Kuroo takes a sip of his coffee. There’s a brief pause, but Daichi can tell he has more to say. “...You didn’t feel bothered by what they said?”

“Why would I?” Daichi throws the stirrer away in the bin at the end of the counter. “It’s just harmless gossip.”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo murmurs. His eyes flick from his coffee to Daichi, and the way they fix on him makes a shiver involuntarily run down his back. “Didn’t seem all that harmless to me.”

Daichi’s breath catches. For a split second, he wonders if Kuroo somehow knows about his secondary gender - just the way he’s looking at him, the meaningful tone in which he’d said that, as if he somehow knows what happened in the past…but then he dismisses the thought immediately. Daichi’s been so careful to hide it all this time, and it’s not like he can give off a scent that marks him as an omega. Kuroo’s probably referring to being called a beta, as if the worst thing an alpha can think of is being considered average. Actually, maybe that is Kuroo’s worst nightmare, Daichi internally snorts.

“Well, someone did seem a bit embarrassed when they were talking about alphas,” he teases with a grin.

“I-” Just like earlier, Kuroo seems to grow unexpectedly self-conscious, the faintest hint of pink tinting his cheeks. He sets his cup down quickly. “I didn’t expect my name to come up.”

“I’m surprised. I would’ve thought you’d like to be talked about like that.”

Kuroo scratches his cheek with a finger, lips pursed. “I dislike unsolicited attention as much as anyone else. Though- it’s nice from certain people.” He glances at Daichi.

“I suppose,” Daichi replies, though he’s never felt that way. He’d rather be one of many in the crowd than stand out.

Oddly, Kuroo huffs a sigh that sounds rather disappointed. They sip their coffee in silence for a few beats before he says, “But anyway, don’t pay them any mind. People always like to pry into other people’s business, especially when their own lives are lacking anything of interest.” Setting his cup down again with a quiet tap, he turns to Daichi, who, upon meeting his gaze, feels something strange overcome him. The gold-like amber of Kuroo’s eyes seems to trap him in place, an unknown pressure that presses in on him from all sides and refuses to let him go. A brief silence passes between them, during which Kuroo, for some odd reason, reaches up and brushes the high of Daichi’s cheek with his thumb. It’s a light, barely-there touch, carrying with it a waft of sweet, spicy cinnamon. It’s as tickling as it is soft, but it’s enough to send tingles through Daichi’s skin. His face grows warm.

“Anyone who would judge you for their own amusement doesn’t deserve to know you,” Kuroo murmurs. He says it so quietly that Daichi wonders if he’d meant to say it at all.

His lips part, mind working for a response, but it’s as if all of his thoughts disappeared the moment Kuroo touched his face. Everything around them seems to fall away, and for a brief, yet prolonged moment, they seem to exist inside a bubble that no one else can disturb.

Then Kuroo pulls his hand back and the bubble pops, the moment gone. “You had an eyelash there,” he says, voice normal again. Daichi blinks several times, feeling as if he’d just roused from a daze.

“Oh,” he says a bit dumbly, unsure of what just happened. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Kuroo gazes down at him for a moment longer as if he has something further to say - then he smiles. It’s his crooked one, where one side is pulled a little higher than the other and he seems to be saying, I-know-something-you-don’t. On any other day, Daichi would be rolling his eyes at that smile - but today, it makes him feel a bit funny inside. “I better get back to work. Got a little distracted on my way back from my meeting.” And here Kuroo winks at him, a quick flutter of his eyelashes, as if Daichi was the one who distracted him and not the other way around. “I’ll see you around, Sa’amura. Thanks for the coffee.”

Before Daichi can so much as say goodbye, Kuroo disappears with a wave of his hand, leaving a wisp of cinnamon and a tangle of confusion in his wake. Daichi stares after him, coffee near-forgotten; the heat in his face fades away like the feeling of Kuroo’s finger on his skin - dissolving into a mere memory, but vivid enough that he can still feel it if he concentrates enough. An unexplainable, fleeting touch.

But even more unexplainable than that was the expression on Kuroo’s face - a soft, tender look in his eyes that had caught Daichi off-guard. He doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like that before, much less an alpha - and much less someone like Kuroo. Inexplicably, his heart seems to beat a little faster in his chest, like a hummingbird coming to life. He wonders what that look, those actions, meant. They were so unfamiliar to him that it’s difficult to even identify what they were, and that itself reminds him that no, it’s not what he might think it is.

Yes, don’t be fooled, he reminds himself, looking down at his coffee. This means nothing to him. It means nothing to you, too. And it’s nothing you would want, whatever it may be.

Tilting his head back, Daichi drains the rest of his coffee in one go and, gathering his papers, throws the cup away on his way out. Walking back to his desk, he thinks that the coffee, normally so sweet, tastes particularly bitter that day.

---

Every few months, Daichi asks for two days of leave. His heat only comes every six months, but in an effort to make his absence as inconspicuous as possible, he meticulously plans and takes his requested days off more often, as if he just really likes using his vacation days throughout the year instead of saving them up like most of his colleagues. Once, his desk neighbor had asked what he does during his requested days off, and Daichi had been hard-pressed to answer anything other than ‘stay at home for twenty-four hours while I fight off my natural instincts to be railed into next week.’ He’d ended up saying that he goes and sees his family.

This time around, his heat lands right on the weekend, so Daichi originally doesn’t ask for leave - but to his dismay, it ends up lasting longer than the usual one day, and he has to request an extra day off anyway. The worst passes over the weekend, where his head feels like he’s swimming in a thick, humid haze and a terrible, itching ache passes through his limbs that can’t be relieved no matter how much he tries. It’s the most severe his heat has ever been, and Daichi wonders, lying in a tangle of blankets and sweat-soaked clothes during his few moments of clarity, if he’s going to die right then and there.

By the time Monday rolls around, the heat in his body has dissipated, only leaving behind a faint, lingering warmth. The itch has subsided as well, though he now feels rather exhausted from being unable to relieve it. Though Daichi’s heats are usually short and tame compared to other omegas, it’s still a pain to suffer through the waves of heat and cravings for another’s touch. It doesn’t help that he can’t really touch himself all that much during his heats, as he’s found that it makes him even more sensitive, nor is he able to borrow any clothing from any alphas for his nest either, due to the fact that the pheromones make him feel ill rather than help soothe.

But come to think of it, Kuroo’s never smelled like other alphas, Daichi contemplates, stretched out on his sofa. It’s already mid-afternoon when he finally feels well and normal enough to get out of bed. He spent some time changing his sheets and clothes and airing his apartment out, but the effort sapped whatever energy he had left in him and now he’s resigned himself to being immobile for the rest of the day. He folds his hands on top of his stomach and stares up at the ceiling, where a shaft of spring sunlight cuts across the gray afternoon shade in a neat slant.

I’ve only ever smelled his scent, too, not his pheromones. Does he wear scent blockers? I haven’t noticed if he does or not, but it wouldn’t make sense for his pheromones to not come out if he doesn’t. But still, his scent smells the nicest out of all the alphas I’ve met. Is that also the power of a top dominant alpha?

Unbidden, Daichi thinks to himself that whichever omega ends up with Kuroo would be very lucky to get to have that warm, comforting scent to themselves everyday. Then he wonders why he’s even thinking about such a thing in the first place. Probably because his last few interactions with Kuroo have been so strange and unexpected, in many ways, that he can’t help but think of him without meaning to. Like when a stranger goes out of their way to be kind to you, and you recall it from time to time to cheer yourself up.

Daichi snorts inwardly. If he has time to think about Kuroo, then he should spend that time to figure out why his heat was so terrible this time around. Is it age? Is my body changing? Daichi hopes not - his mild heats are one of the only good things going for him as an omega. A yawn pulls his jaw open, and he blinks slowly, eyelids and limbs feeling heavy from expending his little remaining energy earlier. Maybe if the next one is just as bad, I’ll go see the doctor…

---

The next time Daichi opens his eyes, he’s confused. It takes him a good three seconds to realize that one, it was a persistent ringing that had so rudely jerked him back to consciousness, and two, that he must’ve fallen asleep - for a good couple hours too, because the slant of sunlight on his ceiling has slid down to the wall, flowing onto the back of the couch below, and the color of his living room has gone from light gray to a deep gold as the day creeps into dusk. The doorbell rings again, insistent, and he hurriedly rolls off the couch to go answer it. He’s still in a half-daze from sleep, rubbing one bleary eye, which is likely why he answers the door without a second thought - and why instead of shutting it in Kuroo’s face, he just stands there and stares at him blankly.

“Sa’amura?” Kuroo asks, sounding somewhat choked.

“Uhh,” Daichi says, very eloquently.

Belatedly, his mind kicks into gear and he promptly swings the door shut. Kuroo, clearly much more alert than him, immediately shoves his shoulder and foot into the gap to stop him. “Nonono, wait, Sa’amura?!” he exclaims, sounding quite alarmed to Daichi’s chagrin.

Why is he so freaked out? I’m the one suddenly wearing old sweats in front of my work colleague! We haven’t even seen each other in casual clothes before!

“Sa’amura, hold on-”

“Why are you here??”

“I just- wait, can you open-”

“How did you get my address?!”

“I asked Sugawara- can you just open it a bit- ow-”

In the midst of his internal panic, Daichi finally manages to notice that Kuroo’s foot is being crushed very uncomfortably and quickly opens the door. “Sorry.”

“S’alright,” Kuroo winces and shakes his foot, clearly not alright, but flashes him a weak (but still annoyingly confident) grin. “Didn’t hurt as bad as when you stepped on my foot during the Seijoh presentation last year.”

Daichi has to refrain from saying something like, Yeah, well, I wasn’t coming off of three days of hell back then and had way more strength.

Clearing his throat, he repeats, much more calmly this time, “Why are you here, Kuroo?”

“Oh. I came to give you some materials to look over before tomorrow’s meeting with Ukai-san.” Kuroo pauses and gives him a critical look. “Are you feeling better? Do you need another day off?”

“No, no, I’m all better,” Daichi quickly shakes his head. Though he’s still tired, the heat has all but faded after his nap, and his head is the clearest it’s been all weekend. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Thanks for bringing those, and sorry you had to come all this way.”

Kuroo looks him up and down in a way that makes Daichi want to squirm, amber gaze sharp like he can see right into Daichi’s soul. “Not at all. I was a bit worried to hear you took a sick day,” he remarks, shifting his backpack to the front to dig through it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you unwell before.”

He was worried? “What am I, Superman?” Daichi snorts, taking the offered folder.

“Close enough,” Kuroo grins. He swings his backpack back onto his shoulders and hesitates. Then without any preamble, holds up a plastic bag that Daichi hadn’t noticed until now. “Here. I got you some cold medicine and other things that might help you feel better, but…since you said you’re okay, just keep it for next time. Though,” he adds teasingly, “I doubt you’ll need it again, Superman.”

Speechless, Daichi slowly takes the bag, opening it to find a box of cold medicine, a bottle of Pocari Sweat, tissues, and… “Is that pudding?” he asks, glancing up at Kuroo.

“It’s nice if you have a sore throat.”

“I don’t and I didn’t.”

“Then consider it as an emotional remedy.”

For what, all the stress and confusion you’ve caused me lately? Still, a pleased feeling spreads through his chest, tingly and warm like standing in a pool of soft sunlight. He smiles softly to himself, then up at Kuroo. “Thanks for bringing me this. I really appreciate it.”

For a split second, Kuroo looks stunned, as if he hadn’t expected Daichi to thank him at all. Well, I did try to shut the door on his foot just now. Then he clears his throat, looking unusually awkward. “No problem. I’m just glad you’re doing better.”

He lifts a hand, letting it hover between them for a second, before running it through his hair. A hint of frustration flashes over his face. “I- I’ll let you rest now. See you tomorrow, Sa’amura.”

Daichi hesitates, glancing between him and the plastic bag. “Wait, Kuroo.”

The alpha stops midstep, looking back questioningly.

“Do you…wanna come in? For tea. As thanks.” The bag rustles as Daichi holds it up.

For some inexplicable reason, Kuroo’s cheeks seem to turn pink. “Are you sure? If you’re still-”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Daichi laughs. “Even if I wasn't, I can at least serve you tea for coming all this way. Come on.”

Despite saying that, he’s a bit apprehensive about his impulsive decision. Setting out a pair of slippers, he feels hyper aware of Kuroo removing his shoes behind him, of the door closing shut, of the fact that it’s just the two of them in his small, one bedroom apartment.

Calm down, Daichi. He’s not going to notice anything. The apartment’s already been cleaned. You don’t even have a scent. Just be chill.

“Excuse my intrusion,” Kuroo says, following him into the living room. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders, he looks around curiously. Daichi, who tends to keep his work and private life very separate, suddenly feels a bit shy to have someone other than a close friend or family member here.

“You can leave your bag anywhere,” he informs him, before moving to his room. “I’ll be right back.”

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Daichi exhales a long sigh, feeling all sorts of tension. It’s strange - his apartment is modest, just whatever he can afford on his average office worker’s salary. It’s not particularly luxurious or big, but Daichi has never felt like it was lacking in any way. And yet today, upon seeing Kuroo simply standing in the living room, his nice, cozy apartment suddenly seemed small and crowded. Is that also because he’s a dominant alpha? Is it his presence? Or is it because he’s unnecessarily tall?

Frowning, Daichi quickly changes into something more presentable. Looking at his former outfit, a faded t-shirt with a stretched out collar and sleep shorts, a wave of embarrassment washes over him at the fact that his colleague (who always looks incredibly put together) had seen him in such a state.

Emerging from the bedroom, he makes a beeline for the kitchen, now determined to serve Kuroo some tea and get him out as quickly as possible. He starts getting out the teapot, expecting Kuroo to be on the sofa to wait - which is why he’s startled to find him standing in the kitchen behind him when he turns around.

“Watch it-!” Kuroo catches him right before Daichi tips back in surprise. Daichi freezes, every muscle in his body tensing. He suddenly feels extremely sensitive to Kuroo’s presence: his large hands warm on Daichi’s waist through his thin t-shirt; his sweet, slightly spicy cinnamon scent, the strongest Daichi’s ever smelled it with how close they’re standing. Even his eyes, amber like caramel with flecks of gold, as they gaze back at him in wonder.

“You okay?” Kuroo asks, his voice no more than a hush.

Voice trapped in his throat, Daichi can only nod once, his heart pounding in his chest. He feels confused and dizzy, because this isn’t someone whom he feels any sort of emotion towards. Who he shouldn’t feel any emotion towards. So why is his heart beating so fast, so loud he can hear it in his ears? Why does he feel like his heat, which had finally dissipated, is rising back up in his body again?

Clearing his throat (and also his mind), Daichi shifts, putting an arm against Kuroo’s chest in an effort to get him to move. “Th-thanks. Sorry, you just scared me.”

Thankfully, Kuroo goes easily when he pushes; his hands slip off Daichi’s waist like water, lingering just the slightest by his fingertips before dropping them. Daichi has to suppress the shiver that rises up from the sensation.

Kuroo follows when he goes to prepare the tea, leaning his hip against the counter. For a few seconds, he merely watches Daichi work, and Daichi gets a strange sense of deja vu of their time in the office break room.

Kuroo must think the same, because he remarks, “Somehow you always seem to be making me something to drink.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Daichi replies dryly. He washes the tea leaves in hot water, strains it out, then pours water over the leaves again to steep.

“Why not? I quite enjoyed your coffee last time, you know.”

Daichi snorts skeptically. “It was the same instant coffee that’s always been in the break room. You’ve probably had it countless times.”

“And yet it tasted more delicious than when I’ve had it in the past.”

At that, Daichi shoots him a sharp look. Lips pulled in a smirk, Kuroo tilts his head, gaze flicking from the tea to Daichi’s eyes; as usual, the way he looks at Daichi makes him feel more exposed than he’d like. It leaves him breathless, and he quickly turns back to the tea without giving a response.

“You said you had a cold?”

“...sort of. It was more of a fever.”

“Did you have anyone to take care of you?”

Daichi glances at him in surprise. “No, I- it wasn’t that bad. And my family doesn’t live nearby.” Not that they could’ve helped, anyway.

“Not even your friends came? Or a partner?”

Bewildered by the pressing questions, Daichi shakes his head. He notes that the tea is ready and begins to pour it into two cups. “I don’t have a partner, and I don’t like to bother others, either.”

“...Is that why you didn’t have an alpha help you with your heat?”

Daichi stops dead.

A dreadful, freezing cold trickles through his limbs. His breathing grows short, stuttering in his throat. He isn’t sure if he’d heard correctly, but he can’t bring himself to move, to open his mouth and ask Kuroo, what did you just say?

Gently, a hand lays over his, guiding him to set the teapot down. Without his noticing, the tea had overflowed from one of the cups. Daichi stares at the tea pooling on the counter, stares as Kuroo wipes it up with a nearby rag.

“Sawamura.”

Daichi doesn’t know what to do.

“Sawamura.”

Kuroo- knows? How? Since when? The whole time? Why didn’t he say anything?

“Daichi.”

Daichi looks up. He isn’t sure what sort of expression he’s making, but Kuroo gazes back at him, amber eyes worried.

Why is he worried? I just found out he knew my gender this whole time. Forget worry, I want to cry.

“Daichi, I-” Kuroo hesitates.

“How long?”

“Hm?”

Daichi’s throat feels dry. He wishes he could drink something, but the tea is still near-boiling hot and he’s already going through enough. “How long have you known? That I’m-”

“An omega?”

Daichi has to prevent himself from flinching.

A slight curve slips over Kuroo’s lips, different from his usual lopsided smirk. This is more soft, an actual, careful smile. “I knew the moment I met you.”

What? “How?” Daichi furrows his brow, dumbfounded.

“I mean…you have an omega’s scent and pheromones. Why wouldn’t I?” Kuroo says this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Daichi stares at him like he’s seeing an alien.

I don’t even know where to start processing this. Daichi presses a hand against his forehead. He feels an all-too familiar headache coming on. “You- I- I have a scent?”

“Yes?” This time it’s Kuroo who’s looking at him strangely. “What do you mean? Of course you do.”

Nonplussed, Daichi can only think of one thing. “...what does it smell like?”

“What?”

“My scent.” He looks at Kuroo, apprehensive. “What does it smell like?”

Clearly confused, Kuroo answers, “Like…coffee. You smell like-” To Daichi’s confusion, he seems to grow a bit pink. “Like the most delicious cup of coffee in the world.”

Coffee. Daichi isn’t sure how to react. He looks down at the teapot, stunned. So I smell like coffee. How…nice. That’s nice.

“Daichi, you- didn’t know that?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Daichi shakes his head. He looks up at Kuroo. “No, I didn’t.” He hesitates, wondering if it’s okay to tell the alpha about this - but he figures there’s no point in hiding it any longer, seeing as he already knows about his secondary gender. Besides, if he gets repulsed by the fact that I’m recessive, then that’s that. We’ll just go our separate ways, like before.

But despite thinking this, his heart seems to squeeze uncomfortably at the thought of losing Kuroo’s friendship.

“For the longest time, I thought I had no scent. I was diagnosed as a recessive omega in high school, and the doctor said my omega traits were so minute that I might as well not be one. So no, I- I didn’t know what my scent smells like.”

Kuroo looks, understandably, puzzled. While recessive omegas aren’t rare, Daichi’s sure there aren’t many who are recessive to the point that they could pass for a beta. “You’re recessive? But…” He trails off, looking deep in thought.

“I know it sounds strange, but it’s true. If the doctor hadn’t told me the results, I would’ve thought I was a beta.” Daichi smiles, though there’s no humor in it. “You heard them talking in the breakroom. I don’t seem like an omega at all. I don’t give off a scent or pheromones - or at least, I didn’t - and I’m not really affected by alpha pheromones either. Plus, I don’t exactly look like a typical omega,” he adds with a short laugh.

“Does that matter?” Kuroo asks quietly. “You- you’re…”

“I’m still an omega despite all of that, I know. Believe me, I know.”

“No.” Kuroo shakes his head. “You’re you.”

It’s not like Daichi hasn’t ever thought that. He knows that being an omega doesn’t define him as a person, that his secondary gender has no impact on his own self-worth. He has his own pride and confidence in himself that has nothing to do with his gender, because at the end of the day, he’s still Sawamura Daichi, whether omega or beta or whatever. He knows that.

And yet- hearing Kuroo say it gives him a strange sense of comfort, all the same.

Unable to come up with a proper response, Daichi looks away, his heart beating that quick, one-two rhythm again. His face feels warm, as it seems to be whenever he’s around Kuroo these days.

“Besides,” Kuroo says, so casually that Daichi nearly misses his next words. “I still like you whether you’re a beta or omega. Hell, I’d still like you even if you were an alpha.”

What? Daichi blinks, unsure if he’d heard correctly. He must’ve meant that as- a friend, right? Or a person. Not romantically, but just a general sense of liking someone. Platonically. Right?? But when he looks up at Kuroo, the alpha looks uncharacteristically embarrassed, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Uh,” Daichi says, at a loss. “Ku-”

“Wait, wait, I-” Kuroo holds out his other hand. He looks pained, groaning, “Damn, this isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

Daichi is sure he isn’t imagining the red coloring Kuroo’s cheeks and ears now. His friends may call him oblivious, but Daichi can at least see the signs when they’re right in front of him - and the thought that this man - the most popular, most eligible man in their company - is confessing to him tilts the floor up and out from under his feet.

“Kuroo, do you- are you-” Daichi cuts off, unable to bring himself to say it.

Kuroo furrows his brow, mussing his hair so that it’s even messier than it usually is. The blush on his skin hasn’t gone away, rose red stark on his pale skin, and as Daichi looks at him, so unusually flustered, he can’t help but feel like he looks rather nice like this.

“I-” Kuroo lets out a short sigh. He covers his face with both hands and stays quiet for several long beats. Then, muffled, he says, “Yes, Daichi. I like you.” And then he lowers his hands, a strange, petulant expression on his absurdly red face. “And because I know your personality, I mean that romantically. I like you, as in I want to date you.”

Mouth open, Daichi stares at him for the longest time. Unable to comprehend the situation, he can only think, over and over: Kuroo likes me? Kuroo Tetsurou? The most dominant of dominant alphas out there? He likes…me?

“How many times are you going to give me a heart attack on the same day?” he asks without thinking. Kuroo laughs softly and takes Daichi’s hand, holding it gently like it’s something precious. Looking at their joined hands, Daichi wonders, thoughtlessly, if Kuroo can feel the way his heart is pounding like thunder in his chest, reverberating through his entire body.

“I don’t want you to have a heart attack,” Kuroo murmurs, thumb stroking the back of Daichi’s hand lightly. The way he looks at Daichi, alluring under his eyelashes, makes Daichi’s heart beat even faster. “But I’m glad that my words can affect you, even a little. That means you’re at least thinking about me.”

Daichi’s mouth feels dry. He thinks it’s unfair for someone to look so handsome even while his face is as red as a cherry. “Honestly, you’re kind of hard to ignore even when you’re not around.”

He thinks he might die of embarrassment when Kuroo presses his lips to the back of his hand. “So you think of me even when you’re alone?”

Realizing his mistake, Daichi tries to backtrack. “N-no, I- that’s not-”

Kuroo chuckles, his breath puffing over Daichi’s skin; Daichi, to his dismay, can feel the way his mouth curves into a smile against his hand. “I’m flattered, Sa’amura.”

“Don’t be. Seriously, I don’t think about you.”

“Ouch. That hurts, especially since I just poured my heart out to you.”

“I-” Daichi bites back any response he might’ve had. There’s nothing he can say to that.

Kuroo laughs softly again, lowering their hands. “Daichi, it’s okay. I told you how I felt, but-” He hesitates. “You don’t need to answer me. I don’t want you to feel pressured about it. It kind of came out in the moment, that’s all. Otherwise I wouldn’t have said anything at all.”

Daichi looks down at their hands, a shadow passing over his face. “I just…think you shouldn’t like me,” he remarks quietly. He feels a strange, terrible sense of guilt - or perhaps it’s the difficulty of having to admit one of his deepest insecurities to another person. “You should be with someone who- who is-” He cuts off, throat growing tight.

Why is it so hard? Despite having thought this many times to himself, despite having accepted his own reality a long time ago, why is it so difficult to say this now?

“Daichi.” Kuroo’s voice is as gentle as his touch when he says his name. It’s so sweet that Daichi wishes he wouldn’t say it at all. “Look at me.”

Feeling horribly immature, Daichi shakes his head. He flinches when he feels Kuroo’s hand brush his skin. The alpha cups Daichi’s cheek, gentle like he had been that day in the office break room; yet here, his touch feels even more intentional. As he guides Daichi to meet his gaze, Daichi wonders if he’s imagining the soft, longing look in Kuroo’s eyes, or if it’s simply a mirror of his own desires, a projection of his own feelings.

A quick smile flits over Kuroo’s lips, the corner of his eye crinkling. “You know,” he murmurs. “I changed my mind. I don’t think I can leave without hearing how you feel about me. How am I supposed to leave you alone if you look at me like that?”

Daichi isn’t sure what Kuroo’s talking about; he’s not sure what expression he has on at all. All he can think about is the warmth of Kuroo’s palm on his cheek, his wonderful cinnamon scent curling around them like comfort personified, and how he wants to bury his face in Kuroo’s hand and stay there forever.

“Daichi,” Kuroo continues, voice low and sweet like honey, dripping into Daichi’s ears. “Do you like me?”

Yes. Daichi swallows his response, tries to look away. But Kuroo holds him fast with both hands now, keeping their eyes locked.

“Tell me, who else am I supposed to like? Who else can make me feel this way?”

An omega who isn’t strange like me. But somehow, Daichi can’t bring himself to say this. Despite knowing it’s for the best, he can’t bring himself to tell Kuroo to like someone who is everything that Daichi isn’t.

“I like you,” Kuroo says boldly. “I like you, Daichi. I like your laugh, your smile. I like the way you’re strong and disciplined in every aspect of your life, but kind and forgiving to other people. I like how you take care of those around you, how you’re empathetic but also firm. I like how you look at me, all exasperated, but still tolerate everything I say. I like that you give people your full attention, because it makes them feel noticed. I like it when you pay me attention, because it feels like I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”

Gaping, Daichi tries to retreat from Kuroo’s grasp. “Please,” he begs, face and neck hot from embarrassment. “Stop talking.”

But true to form, Kuroo doesn’t listen. “I like you in so many ways that have nothing to do with you being an omega. Didn’t I say it? I’d like you even if you were an alpha. I don’t want to like anyone else. I like you, Sawamura Daichi. Just you, as yourself.”

Speechless, Daichi doesn’t know how to respond. He wants to give into Kuroo’s words so badly, to just let himself like this person who is confessing his feelings for him so sincerely. But the thought that there might be an omega out there who suits Kuroo, who would make the perfect couple with him, stops him all the same.

As if knowing what he’s thinking, Kuroo says fiercely, “Don’t think about our genders. Just think about your own feelings. Whether you like me or not, that’s all that matters. Just think about us. Only us.”

My own feelings? Us?

Slowly, Daichi takes Kuroo’s hands, sliding them down to his neck, and looks down.

“I…I don’t know. You might find someone else you like more.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“People will talk if they find out about us. About me.”

“About what? There’s nothing wrong with you whatsoever.”

“...I’ll doubt you. I’ll end up having these thoughts again.”

“Then I’ll comfort and reassure you every time.”

Daichi laughs in spite of himself. They’re such idealistic answers, especially at their age when they know that reality isn't so nice. And yet he feels his resolve waver with every word from Kuroo’s mouth. Is he allowed to like him? Will it truly be okay?

A voice in his mind whispers, Really, what’s stopping you? Something said by a careless high school boy all those years ago? A boy who couldn’t even say those words to your face? Does that matter when this person, this wonderful person, is here now, trying his best to convey his feelings for you?

“Kuroo,” he murmurs, feeling the shell around his heart, the one he’d built up so carefully over the years, reinforcing and patching, gradually beginning to crumble. “I’m sorry. I feel like- like I’m always going to give you a hard time. I wish I didn’t let this affect me so much, even more because I know it’s hurting you too. But I’m also sorry because-” Here, he looks back up, a hapless smile spreading across his face. “I don’t think I can give you to anyone else, either. I like you too, Kuroo. I think I have for a long time.”

Contrary to what he expects, Kuroo lets out a long sigh, sagging against him. He bends to press his forehead to Daichi’s shoulder, murmuring, “Man, you sure know how to scare a guy. I thought I was definitely getting rejected when you said ‘I’m sorry’.”

“Sorry,” Daichi laughs, reaching up to pat his head gingerly. Kuroo’s hair is soft under his fingers, softer than he’d expected. “I just wanted to apologize first. I might make things hard for you when we’re together-”

Kuroo straightens up, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize. Nothing could be hard when it comes to you…except, you know.” He smirks and glances down.

Daichi follows his gaze and, realizing what he’s looking at, pinks. “Really? I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”

“So am I.” Kuroo grins, slipping his arms around Daichi’s waist. Without warning, he pulls Daichi close, until they’re chest to chest, bodies pressed together. His eyes go soft, gazing down at Daichi through his eyelashes in a way that makes his stomach twist into knots. Is this warmth I’m feeling where we touch, Daichi wonders, clutching at Kuroo’s dress shirt, mine or yours? Is this heartbeat I’m feeling down to my fingertips, mine….or yours?

“Can I kiss you?” Kuroo murmurs, voice dropping low. His breath brushes Daichi’s lips like a kiss itself.

It feels as if this is the last moment Daichi has to take it all back. To tell Kuroo that they shouldn’t date after all; to go back to his safe, isolated world where he was pretending to not be an omega and Kuroo was his alpha coworker who annoyed him sometimes, confused him other times, and he never knew about Kuroo’s feelings - his own feelings. Is that what he wants?

“Yes,” Daichi whispers. “You ca-”

Kuroo’s lips are on his before he even finishes speaking.

It may be important to say that while Daichi had his reservations about his secondary gender, he has had relationships in the past. Of course, they never went anywhere, as he broke things off before anything could really happen, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t kissed anyone before.

But this - this feels entirely different from any kiss he’s ever had.

The first one is simple, chaste, just a press of soft lips. But the next one, after Kuroo pulls back just the slightest, is devouring. Kuroo kisses him like a man starved for days, pressing in until Daichi feels near overwhelmed. He parts Daichi’s lips, tongue slipping into his mouth, rolling over Daichi’s own sweetly. Daichi feels Kuroo’s hand slip up to the back of his head, holding him in place as he mouths at Daichi’s lips almost desperately. His scent, usually so warm and round, grows sharp, pricking Daichi’s senses in waves of spice. They part, come together, part, and come together again, breaths mingling in the miniscule gap between their lips.

Daichi’s heart pounds like a drum in his chest, thrumming through his entire body. He feels like he’s in the throes of his heat again, that all-too familiar want rising up from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. Barely holding on to clarity, he grasps at Kuroo’s shirt, dimly thinking that he must be wrinkling it horribly. “Wa- wai- Kuro-” He gasps, pressing against Kuroo’s chest in an attempt to get him to let up.

It seems to work as Kuroo pulls back just an inch - but then he dives right back in, this time (to Daichi’s horror) breathing sweet words in between soft, short kisses that make Daichi feel hot and flushed with embarrassment.

“Daichi-”

“I like you-”

“I’ll show-”

“You-”

“How much-”

“I like you-”

“Okay-?”

When Kuroo pulls back for a longer moment, Daichi gasps for breath, opening his eyes. His face must be an awful shade of red, based on how hot it feels, and his lips feel sore and swollen. Kuroo’s no better, though he has his usual smug expression that makes Daichi want to smack him. His lips (which Daichi can’t help but glance at) tug into a smirk, curving sharp before he leans in to press it to Daichi’s cheek.

“Let me show you,” he whispers, leaning to kiss Daichi’s other cheek now. “Hm? Will you let me?” His nose. “Daichi? Please?” His forehead.

He pulls back, the smirk settled into a softer, sweeter smile now. As Daichi stares at him, all rosy-cheeked and hair messy, looking awfully pleased with himself, he can’t help but marvel at the fact that this person, whom Daichi had always thought was out of his reach, whom Daichi never even considered because he never thought Kuroo would look his way, is actually asking him for permission to show him the extent of his feelings.

Even a day ago, I never would’ve thought this was possible.

And will he allow it?

Daichi thinks of all the doubts and insecurities he still has. He thinks of his younger self, standing outside that classroom door, listening to someone disparage his secondary gender, letting the belief that no one would want him sink into his person. He thinks of how that young boy never received the reassurance he needed at the time; how he still might come out from time to time, despite Daichi’s own efforts.

Then he looks at Kuroo, at his shining amber-gold eyes, at the clear desire on his face. He lays his hand flat over Kuroo’s chest and feels his heart, thumping as rapidly as Daichi’s under his fingers.

It’s not as if all his worries have suddenly, magically disappeared. It might take a long, long time before his heart heals from those scars - it might never heal completely, either. But nothing will ever happen if he doesn’t allow it. And being in Kuroo’s arms, Daichi feels as if he’s seeing a glimpse of what being healed might be like. He thinks that he’d like to chase that feeling, no matter how hard it may be.

“Okay,” he chuckles. A warm, beautiful emotion bubbles up within him. It feels like gentle sunlight; like the laugh of someone truly carefree; like the smell of sweet cinnamon coffee in the air. “Show me.”