Archive of Our Own

What Rin finds upon returning home is nothing but a distress-filled silence. He’s overwhelmed by the sudden, cloying hit of burnt sugar and heartbreak. It fills his lungs until he’s light-headed.

The longer he stays, the more his instincts start to rebel. His Alpha nature roars, demanding attention. Rin doesn’t deny it either.

He drops his backpack by the door and follows the scent. The closer he gets to the living room, the stronger the scent becomes. The sweetness curdles, turns sour and unpleasant. He feels an almost painful urge to protect.

What he finds is Sae, curled up on the couch. He’s surrounded by blankets, and pillows, and pieces of clothing from all of them: his, Mom’s, Dad’s. Rin is nearly dizzy with the need to comfort.

“What’s wrong?” Rin asks.

Sae’s head snaps up, and he twirls around, startled. He glares, so much like Sae, defiant and proud.

“Nothing,” Sae snaps and scrubs away the dampness beneath his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, footballing?”

“That’s not a word,” Rin says and takes a step closer, “and I asked what’s wrong.”

Sae’s eyes flash, and he curls up tighter.

“Sorry—” Rin inhales sharply. He doesn’t mean for his pheromones to flare up like this. He speaks once he feels calm enough. “Sorry. You’re just… your scent…”

“I’m so sorry my scent is bothering you. I can’t change it,” Sae snaps, as if Rin has just struck a nerve.

This is not at all what Rin meant. He is horrible at this. “You’re nesting. In the middle of our living room.” He looks around. The nest is messy and distressed, hastily thrown together.

A vulnerable expression flickers across Sae’s face. His hands clutch the edge of a blanket, twisting it between his fingers. Not only were nests deeply intimate for omegas, but an alpha’s approval—that their nest felt safe, felt right—mattered, too.

“Yeah, well, where else am I supposed to go?” Sae says.

“You can nest wherever you want,” Rin says. Dad’s better at this, and Mom. Rin doesn’t know how to comfort, how to help. After a pause, he says, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

There is another moment of silence.

“Wanna watch a movie then?”

“…We can.”

Rin nods, moves to take the remote, and… stops.

“Can I…?” Rin says, awkwardly, glancing at the nest.

As much as nests were intimate and sought the approval of an alpha, they were also private and deeply personal. Omega’s safe space. Growing up, Rin had seen it firsthand, watching Sae build little nests, tucking himself into forts made of blankets and pillows.

Sae had nearly clawed Rin’s eyes out when Rin approached and ruined the nest when they were kids. Sae bared his tiny canines at him as his scent flared. Rin hadn’t understood then; he just took a blanket from a pile of blankets and towels. Dad explained then, once they were away from Sae, You never invade an Omega’s nest unless you’re invited, he’d said.

“Can I sit with you?” Rin asks.

Sae looks up at him, for a moment. He scoots over then, barely an inch, pulling one of the blankets aside. “That’s all you’re getting,” Sae mutters. It’s barely enough space for Rin to sit. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t,” Rin says.

Rin shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over a nearby chair, then reaches up to unwind his scarf.

“Give me your scarf,” Sae says.

Rin pauses before he can take it off completely.

“My scarf?”

“Yes,” Sae says. “I want it.”

Sae glances at Rin from the corner of his eye, waiting, uncertain. There’s a soft, vulnerable side to Sae, and Rin doesn’t have it in him to deny him. Without a word, he slips the scarf from around his neck and holds it out.

Sae takes it and proudly lays it over a pillow. He smoothes it down as if it were something precious.

“Thanks,” Sae says.

“You got it,” Rin answers.

Rin settles down beside Sae. The couch is soft, but the layers of fabric piled up around them makes it feel even softer and warmer. It’s strange, Rin thinks, how something as simple as a nest can hold such a sense of safety, of belonging. But then again, it isn’t his first time here.

For someone as cold and aloof as Sae, his demeanour didn’t change much at home—but yes, as he was still reserved and still distant in his own way, he was all mellowed coolness and softened pillows too.

Sae pulls one of the blankets over his lap, and Rin can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. Rin turns on some stupid sitcom on Netflix, something for a background sound, and for a moment, neither of them speaks.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Sae says.

Rin looks at him. “I just came here.”

“Yes, but if it’s too… omega thing, or whatever.”

“Omega? Since when do you think I care about that?” Rin says. “It’s nice here. Cosy.”

Sae’s eyes flicker up in surprise.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Rin leans back into the nest and pulls a pillow into his lap. “You did a good job. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re acting weird,” Rin says and frowns. He puts the back of his hand on Sae’s forehead. “Not feverish.”

Sae swats Rin’s hand away, frowning. “Quit it. I’m fine.”

Rin raises an eyebrow, not convinced. “Fine? You’re all quiet and fidgety, which, definitely, is so ‘fine’ by you.”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Sae huffs.

“Your heat’s not close, is it?”

Sae’s cheeks tinge faintly pink, and he shoots Rin a glare. “No,” he snaps, looking away. “It’s not that.”

“Then what? You’re terrible at hiding it.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Sae snaps.

“Do you even believe yourself?”

Sae twitches, but says nothing. His fingers pick at a loose thread on the blanket. Nobody speaks after that. The noise from the TV fills the silence and gives Sae something to focus on.

At first, Sae just sits there, staring blankly at the screen, not reacting to the show. But the ridiculous plot and over-the-top laugh track seem to win him over. Rin catches the faintest hint of a smile when one of the characters makes an especially bad joke, and it’s enough to ease some of the tension in his own shoulders.

Minutes pass, the show playing on, and Rin gets absorbed in it too, chuckling at the dumb jokes. He thinks he catches Sae smiling at a few of them, too. Rin freezes when Sae’s head settles next to his thigh, hair brushing against his leg as Sae leans into Rin’s side.

Rin slowly lets himself relax, and tentatively brings a hand to Sae’s hair with a gentle, hesitant touch. Omegas crave contact when they’re feeling down.

How rare it is for Sae to seek out comfort like this.

After a long silence, Sae speaks. His scent sours too. “You remember Leo, right?”

Rin raises an eyebrow. “The asshole alpha that you like?”

“Yeah.”

It should have been the first sign that this has something to do with Leo, something serious enough that Sae doesn’t even bother to defend him. He stares down at the blanket, fingers still picking at that loose thread.

Rin’s tone softens. “What happened?”

Before Sae can answer, the front door opens, almost as though on cue, and Sae instinctively straightens up, body tensing as if a switch has been flipped. They both glance toward the entrance.

“Mom and Dad are back,” Sae murmurs.

A moment later, their parents appear in the doorway, the same way Rin had, expressions full of concern. Rin realises Dad must have smelt it too—Sae’s unmistakable scent of distress, something he can’t quite hide, even when he tries.

“What’s going on?” Mom asks, eyes soft with worry.

Instantly, Sae makes space for her on the couch. His scent tightens and sours, but he lets her hug him. Rin quietly stands to give them room. If he isn’t a bit jealous at how easily Sae lets Mom in…

“I’ll make tea,” Rin says.

Dad catches him by the arm, gently asking, because omega’s distress can be overwhelming for a young alpha. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Rin says.  “Sae, you want a cup?”

Sae lifts his head from his mother’s chest, eyes a little red-rimmed, and nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice soft.

“All right.”

Rin turns away and leaves his parents to fuss over Sae. He can hear them talking from the kitchen.

“What happened?” Dad asks as he takes a knee beside the couch.

“He doesn’t like me,” Sae bursts into tears in his Mom’s arms. It wasn’t just that Leo didn’t care; he looked at Sae with outright disgust.

“Oh, love,” Mom says, stroking his hair. 

“I gave my heart freely,” Sae looks at the ground and scrunches up his face.

“My sweet boy,” she says. “He isn’t worth it.”

Sae continuously shakes his head. “I… I lied. I wasn’t with Niwa then. I was with him. I was scared Dad wouldn’t let me leave if I told the truth… because he’s older, so I lied. I’m sorry,” Sae says between gulping sobs.

Mom pulls him close. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I know it hurts now…”

“No, Mom,” Sae stutters, through tears. “I spent my first heat with someone, and it was Leo. And he said I was easy.”

“Oh, pup,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry,” Sae says, with a huge swallow. He can’t look Dad in the eyes. “He said that omegas just… spread their legs easily, and that no alpha would ever see an omega as an equal.”

“I’ll beat him,” Rin says, standing in front of the couch and holding a hot mug of tea in his hands. 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Mom says seriously, “no matter how much he deserves it.”

Mom turns her eyes to Sae. She strokes his hair gently, then his damp cheeks, brushing away tear after tear that falls upon his cheekbones with her palm.

“What he said was cruel, and not true. You gave him your heart, and he discarded it. He isn’t worth your heartbreak,” Mom says. The desperate pain in her chest makes it feel like something’s bruising inside out for the pain of her son.

“I don’t want to be an omega. I want to be like you, or Dad. A beta, or even an alpha. I don’t want to be an omega,” Sae sobs.

Mom’s heart aches. “Oh, my sweet pup,” she murmurs. “There’s nothing wrong with being an omega. Nothing at all.”

Between the silence and Sae’s heart-wrenching sobs, there is nothing else—only his cries and broken, anguished words. It’s Dad who finally speaks up from being silent for so long.

“That man, what he said…” Dad starts. “It says everything about him, and nothing about you. Omegas care. They make people feel safe and loved. They don’t just spread legs for anyone.”

Dad’s voice is gentle. “That’s just as important as anything an alpha does. Or a beta. You’re so much more than… and if he doesn’t see that—if he treated it like it was nothing, that’s his failure, not yours.”

“But I love him,” Sae says. There are tears in his voice.

Dad gently brings a hand to Sae’s head, gently ruffling his hair.

“I know it hurts now, but this pain will pass. One day, you’ll meet someone and forget about him.”

“What if I don’t,” Sae cries.

“You will, my pup, you will.”

Mom shelters his head against her chest and softly shushes him. For a long time Sae weeps, and they let him cry his little heart out. Rin places the mug on the coffee table and sits on the chair.

When the sobs die down, the tea is already cold.

Mom and Dad exchange a glance, with a small crease appearing between Dad’s brows.

“Sae,” Dad starts with some difficulty. Sae lifts his red-rimmed eyes.

“What?”

“Did… did he mark you?”

When Sae shakes his head, it feels as if a stone has rolled off all their hearts. Dad releases a slow, shaky breath, his shoulders finally relaxing. He reaches over, resting a gentle hand on Sae’s knee.

“That’s… that’s good,” Dad murmurs.

Beside him, Mom squeezes Sae’s hand, her thumb tracing circles over his knuckles. No parent wants to see their pup suffer, to see them brokenhearted and questioning their own worth, let alone bear a mark of an abusive partner.

Mom brushes a lock of hair from Sae’s forehead. His hair is lovely, silky. 

“Why don’t we make some fresh tea?” she asks.

“But I just made some,” Rin says, frowning.

“It’s cold,” Mom says. She turns to Sae. “Wanna get up, sweetheart?” she asks softly.

Sae shakes his head. “No.”

“Okay, love.”

Mom breaks away from him. “I will make something to snack on too,” she says. “Rin, pick up your jacket, so it’s not just lying around.”

Rin groans but does it anyway.

By the time Mom’s prepared a few small plates and brought them back, Sae’s mood has lifted a little. He’s even scolding Rin, who’s managed to get crumbs all over his nest.

“Sae,” Dad says.

Sae lifts his head. “Yeah?”

“I’m grounding you.”

Sae blinks, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

“You know exactly why,” Dad says, not unkindly. “Sneaking out to see someone behind our backs, lying about where you were—that’s not okay. I know things went wrong with him. You got hurt. Sae, what if he had marked you?”

Sae looks away, hunching in shame.

“He didn’t, Dad,” Rin cuts in. “It’s not Sae’s fault he trusted a douchebag.”

“I know, Rin. But your brother knew very well we’d never approve. That man is 6 years older than Sae.”

“I’m 18…” Sae says weakly.

“Barely,” Dad responds. “Sae, he’s not just some older guy. He knew exactly what he was doing. It’s our fault for not interfering sooner, but we thought you knew better.”

Sae’s gaze drops. Dad sighs.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel worse, pup,” Dad says, voice softer. “I just want you to think about what could have happened. We want what’s best for you.”

Sae’s face crumples a little, but he nods, still staring at his hands. Rin leans closer and nudges him.

“At least next time you’ll know how to spot a douchebag a mile away.”

A faint, reluctant smile tugs at Sae’s lips.

Little does Sae know, in a few weeks’ time, he’ll cross paths with another douchebag.

- - -

The doorbell jingles, and another customer walks in.

The tiny coffee shop huddles against the capricious spring winds. Cherry blossoms scatter and drift past the windows like pink snow. Sae glances up from behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron, to take the order.

So, the next customer is all lean muscle and quiet confidence. Tattoos snake up his arm, dark ink twisting over bronzed skin and disappearing beneath the edge of a fitted black tank top. Just under the tank’s edge, a delicate flow tattoo traces along his collarbone, barely hidden, daring people to notice.

What Sae focuses on is how the guy isn’t cold to Sae’s own wool sweater. The customer walks up to the counter. A pleasant scent wafts over, subtle but unmistakably alpha. 

Sae slips on his polite customer-service voice and speaks, “Hello. May I have your order?”

The guy stares at Sae with neon pink eyes, obscured by a messy fall of blond hair. He tilts his head with an almost innocent expression.

“Sorry?”

Sae resists the urge to sigh and lets himself repeat himself. “Can I take your order?”

The guy’s mouth curves into a lazy grin, as if he’s just now decided to pay attention. “Latte.”

Sae presses the order on the monitor. “Here or to go?”

He leans his elbows onto the counter, crossing his arms, and the muscles draw Sae’s eye despite himself. His gaze never wavers from Sae’s face.

“Here,” the guy says.

Sae nods, fingers tapping out the order on the screen. “Name for the order?”

The guy holds his gaze, those neon pink eyes bright and unreadable beneath a messy fringe of blonde hair.

“Ryuusei.”

- - -

Another day, the same doorbell jingles and in walks a customer. Sae lifts his eyes and meets neon pink.

“What can I get you?” Sae asks, already bracing himself.

Today, the guy comes with a black leather jacket slung over his shoulders. The jacket hands open just enough to reveal the edge of that same fitted tank top and a pendant that glints silver against his chest.

“Latte,” the guy says.

That pleasant scent hits again, subtle but unmistakable. Sae catches himself inhaling a little too deeply and immediately regrets it. Most alphas let their scent announce them, loud and bold. But this one is holding back, carefully suppressing it.

“Here or to go?” Sae asks, his tone crisp, all business.

“Here.” The guy leans in as he says it, just enough that Sae feels the warmth radiating off him. 

Sae taps in the order, keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the monitor, and wills himself not to react.

“Name?”

“Ryuusei.”

Sae presses the final button and glances up, meeting that unblinking neon gaze head-on. The guy’s mouth curls into that lazy, infuriating smirk, like he’s both impressed and amused by Sae’s restraint.

“See you around,” he says in a low voice.

When he leaves, Sae lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

- - -

The doorbell jingles, and Sae already knows who it is. He just takes a slow breath, and that scent threads its way through the comforting bitterness of coffee and fills the space around him.

Sae glances up.

Today, the guy’s traded his leather jacket for a black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to reveal those familiar tattooed arms. Even mostly obscured, those eyes somehow lock onto Sae’s like magnets.

The guy’s mouth twitches, and the barest hint of a smile plays at the corner.

“What can I get you?” Sae asks.

“Latte,” the guy answers. Sae taps in the order. “Do you like coffee?”

Sae flusters. Today doesn’t go as any other day.

“I work in a coffee shop, what do you think? Here or to go?”

“Here.”

Sae doesn’t bother asking for a name. “Your latte will be ready at the end of the bar,” he says.

The guy chuckles, all soft and warm, and Sae’s heart splutters.

- - -

The amount of money the guy spends on his lattes is maddening.

Sae’s started noticing the pattern: the guy will swagger in, order his latte, linger at the counter just long enough to rattle Sae’s nerves, then leave the cup sitting half-finished on a table by the window.

One day, as he watches the guy stroll out without so much as a backward glance at his drink, Sae mutters to himself under his breath, “You could at least finish it.”

He catches himself, mortified to realise he cares, even a little.

- - -

The doorbell jingles. Sae knows by the way the air shifts and now-familiar scent curls around him. They’ve become as much a part of his routine as the hiss of the espresso machine.

When he finally glances up, there he is—neon pink eyes and a cocky grin, today in a fitted black shirt that’s somehow even more shameless than the tank tops and leather jackets. He’s leaning against the counter as usual.

Sae forces himself to keep his expression neutral. “Hello. May I have your order?” he asks, and presses latte—

“Two lattes.”

Sae blinks, thrown off. Two?

“Two lattes?” Sae repeats and lifts his eyes.

This time, the guy has his hair up in a messy bun, and loose strands dyed pink frame his face in a way that somehow makes him look even more infuriatingly handsome. This close, Sae notices something new—a small silver hoop glints in his ear.

“Yes,” the guy says and smirks when Sae glances up.

Sae’s fingers hover over the register before he taps in the order. “Here?” he asks.

“To go.”

Full of surprises today, Sae thinks and refuses to huff aloud. He types in the order and moves to the espresso machine, steams milk and pulls shots, all along hoping it’ll steady him. But he’s too aware of the guy’s gaze following him.

Sae works harder and less graciously.

When the drinks are ready, Sae brings both cups over to the end of the bar and sets them down. “Two lattes. To go.”

The guy steps up, reaches for the cups, and slides one of them across the counter, stopping it right in front of Sae.

“This one’s for you,” he says.

Sae stares down at the cup, scrambling to process what’s just happened. He wills his face to stay impassive.

“I don’t have time for coffee,” Sae says.

“And I don’t see this place buzzing with clients at the moment,” the guy says and takes his own cup.

Sae narrows his eyes. “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

The guy’s lips split into a smile.

“You made it yourself.”

Sae feels his mouth twitch. “I made it for you,” he says, voice flat. “Not for you to turn around and hand it back to me.”

“Consider it a quality check. Make sure you’re serving your customers the best,” the guy says.

Sae huffs. “I don’t need that to know my coffee’s good.”

“Then drink it,” the guy challenges. “Unless you’re worried it’s not.”

Sae scowls. He glances away toward the counter, where a small line of customers is beginning to form now. “I have to go back to work,” he mutters.

Nonetheless, Sae takes the coffee.

“Douchebag…” Sae whispers when said douchebag leaves, and greets another customer.

- - -

“Today a customer bought me a drink,” Sae tells his family at the dining table.

“Awh, that is sweet, love,” Mom coos.

“The same douchebag,” Sae deadpans, and Rin scoffs.

“All guys seem douchebags to you now,” Rin says.

Sae glares. “I see them a mile away.”

Dad clears his throat. “Do you like him?”

“No,” Sae sputters and stabs another potato. “He’s annoying and weird. What alpha goes around suppressing their pheromones all the time? He thinks he is so cool for it, such a gentleman! Then goes to buy me a coffee. Insufferable.”

Rin snorts. “Or maybe he’s just, you know, trying to be polite.”

Sae rolls his eyes and eats his potatoes. “Please. He’s just trying to stand out.”

Mom’s lips quirk into a slight smile as she exchanges a knowing glance with Dad. “Well,” she says, “it sounds like he’s going out of his way to be considerate. Suppressing pheromones is a nice gesture. Maybe he doesn’t want to make people uncomfortable.”

“Me and Dad always suppress our pheromones,” Rin says casually.

Sae frowns. “You guys are different,” he says. “And it’s not ‘considerate,’ Mom. He’s just… doing it to get some omega to fall at his feet. I’m not an idiot.”

“Not everyone’s out to hurt you, pup,” Dad says.

“Not a pup, Dad. I’m eighteen. Not barely, either.”

“How old is he?” Dad asks.

“How would I know,” Sae says and eats his potatoes.

- - -

The next morning, the doorbell jingles once more. The douchebag and Sae go their usual routine. 

“Latte,” the douchebag orders.

“Here or to go?” Sae asks.

“To go.”

This time, Sae is more irked than ever. Yes, he drank that latte. Yes, it was good. He made it, begrudgingly, but he steamed the milk, he poured the espresso—he crafted that drink. And now here the douchebag is again, ordering the same coffee, like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t wormed his way into Sae’s thoughts without even trying.

Sae works the espresso machine with tight movements, pretending he doesn’t notice the douchebag standing there, looking annoyingly handsome. That fitted t-shirt is a simple choice, but somehow it shows off his lean, toned frame. His hair is loose and golden, soft like wheat. Strands of it are dyed faintly pink. There’s that small silver hoop in his ear, glinting when he tilts his head, catching both the light and Sae’s eye.

And, as always, his scent floods Sae’s senses. Warm, sweet, subtle. He’s holding back, again, suppressing his pheromones, like he’s careful not to overwhelm. But the scent that does radiate from him is… gentle, comforting. 

Sae grabs the marker and scrawls the name in bold letters. Douchebag doesn’t even begin to cover it. Suppressing his pheromones just enough to seem approachable, like he’s some safe, harmless alpha? It’s manipulative, obviously— another way to get an omega to lower their guard. Sae isn’t stupid, he sees douchebags a mile away.

“Here you go,” Sae says stiffly, sliding the cup across the counter without looking at the douchebag. 

The douchebag takes it, and their hands don’t brush because Sae is careful. So, there’s no magical spark either.

“Excuse me,” the douchebag says, his voice laced with something new, something a little too pleased.

“What?” Sae says.

The guy’s holding the cup, tilting it so Sae’s handiwork is perfectly visible. Scrawled across the front, in big, clear letters, is D-BAG.

Sae’s eyes widen. Oh, he’s so losing his job. That’s his writing, obviously, his irritation just ran on autopilot. How was he supposed to know his instincts would take over and betray him like this? A hot, angry flush creeps up his neck, and he opens his mouth to spit an apology, but nothing comes out.

The douchebag’s face breaks into a grin, wide and absolutely delighted. He chuckles. “So that’s how you really feel, huh?”

Sae snaps his mouth shut, mortified. He folds his arms then. “Slip of the hand,” he mutters.

The grin on the guy’s face only widens as he tilts his head. “Oh, I’m sure it was,” he says.

“Believe what you want,” Sae says, unhappily. “But if you take this to my manager, I’ll deny every word.”

“You know,” the douchebag says smoothly, “the client’s always right, no?”

It gets Sae to shut up, and for his mouth to press into a thin line. Despite himself, his scent tightens just enough, a flicker of nerves showing through. He can’t afford to lose this job; it had already taken so much effort to land it in the first place. Who wants to hire an omega with too much attitude, anyway?

Sae glares at the guy coldly. “Should I go get my manager now?” he says.

The douchebag chuckles and shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I wouldn’t put you through trouble.”

“Great,” Sae says, with a glare, though his heart is pounding. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to work.”

The guy’s lips tilt a little, and, with a glint in his eyes, he says. “Good day, then.”

Sae watches, heart still beating in his ears, and the douchebag leaves with his coffee and D-BAG written in bold. Sae mutters under his breath, fumming.

“Good day? Yeah, right.”

- - -

“Be grateful you didn’t lose your job,” Dad says.

“But he’s an asshole! A complete jerk!” Sae fusses over.

“Who saved your job,” Dad says, seriously.

“He only did it to mess with me,” Sae says, unhappily. His dad is supposed to take his side. His side! “He knew he had me cornered. It wasn’t… kindness. And then he says good day, that douchebag!”

“Doesn’t matter what his reason was,” his dad replies. “The fact is, he could’ve cost you your job, but he didn’t. You’d do well to remember that.”

Sae huffs, looking away.

- - -

To track his heat cycles, Sae has a little calendar on his phone.

Heat in 3 days.

Sae scoffs and locks his phone. He swaps his work shifts with Niwa for the upcoming week and takes on the evening’s final hours himself.

The quiet suits him. Outside the windows, the sun dips low, and street lamps flicker to life one after another. The soft golden hue swallows over the empty tables as the customers trickle out.

Today, the douchebag’s still here, his latte finished and the cup empty. He’s on his laptop, sitting by the window. A couple nearby finishes their drinks, packing up quietly. A group of guys laugh by the plates of crumbs left from their éclairs.

Sae moves around the coffee shop, wiping down tables and stacking chairs, his gaze occasionally drifting to the late lingerers. 

His heat is close, and Sae just needs to make it through this last shift. He’s done it before, but that never means he enjoys the feverish flush creeping over his skin or the heightened sensitivity to every scent or sound around him. The group of friends laughing, the couple in love…and then there is him.

The douchebag staring right at him, with a slight crease slowly building between his brows.

Sae pretends not to notice, instead focusing on wiping down the counter. His senses are already overstimulated; every sound amplified, but it’s the scent that cuts through everything else.

It is coming from him—the douchebag by the window. Sae tries not to inhale, but the aroma is persistent. Musk and cedar, maybe, mixed with something clean and cold, like the scent of rain-soaked grass. It shouldn’t have been so compelling, but in his heightened state, it is nearly intoxicating.

Sae risks a glance up, just a flicker of his eyes, and immediately regrets it. A frown sits between his brows as the douchebag stares, his expression unreadable but intense.

A burst of laughter erupts from the group of friends, and Sae flinches, quickly looking away from the guy. The girl from the couple gives him a curious stare as they pass by on their way out.

The doorbell jingles.

“Are you out of your mind?” the douchebag suddenly demands and grabs Sae by the arm, pulling him a few steps away, just out of earshot from the others.

Sae’s heart kicks up, and he jerks his arm free. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hisses.

The touch had sent a jolt through him—his skin more sensitive than ever, every nerve ending on high alert. No way is Sae going to let himself be yanked around. He glares at him.

The guy’s eyes flash. “You’re broadcasting your scent all over the place,” he says quietly, through teeth. “Do you have any idea?”

Sae bristles. “My scent is none of your business,” he snaps, taking a deliberate step back. The café suddenly feels too warm, the air thick. He could still catch that hint of musk and cedar from the alpha.

“You’re in heat,” the douchebag hisses.

A flush creeps up Sae’s neck, not from embarrassment, but from anger. “I shouldn’t be yet,” he retorts sharply.

The douchebag narrows his eyes. He watches as the last customers file out of the café, then turns his attention back to Sae.

“We’re closed,” Sae says coldly. “You should leave.”

The douchebag doesn’t move. “You’re reckless,” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If you were mine…”

Sae’s eyes narrow, heat flaring beneath his skin. “Good thing I’m not,” he snaps. “Now get out.”

This is exactly what he’d come to expect. All alphas are the same—possessive, assuming, convinced that omegas would simply yield to their whims. They thought a few pointed words or domineering glance would make anyone fall in line.

Mom and Dad were wrong; he’s no different.

“Do you always work this late?” the alpha asks.

“What’s it to you?” Sae frowns.

He says, as if Sae hadn’t spoken, “Do you walk?”

“Of course I walk.” Sae crosses his arms defensively. He doesn’t live far enough away to need a car or train. Another wave of heat rises through his skin.

A muscle ticks in the alpha’s jaw. “I’ll drive you home,” he says.

Sae’s eyes widen, heart beating faster. “Like hell you will.”

“Finish up, and I’ll take you home.”

“Did you not hear me? I said no,” Sae says.

“I heard you,” the alpha says calmly.

Anxiety wells up in Sae. He doesn’t intend for his scent to react, but it does—it sharpens with distress, and he takes a step back.

The alpha’s expression softens.

“I’m not trying to upset you,” he says, almost gently. “I told you, I wouldn’t put you through trouble.”

The café feels sweltering. Sae’s hands are starting to shake. He’s an omega, he knows what his body wants right now because the heat doesn’t let up. All his senses are as though tuned to the presence of this particular alpha.

“…I’d appreciate it if you’d go,” Sae says.

The alpha sighs. “Do you have somebody to call, then?”

“I’m not calling anyone,” Sae bristles.

“All right,” the alpha says, clearly thinking how stubborn the omega is. “Then take a taxi.”

“The only thing I’m calling is the police if you don’t back off,” Sae bites out, putting as much venom as he can manage into his words.

Sae’s cheeks are flushed, partly from the heat simmering under his skin, but mostly from humiliation of being in this position—shaky, unsteady, and forced to deal with this infuriating alpha who doesn’t seem to understand boundaries. Who does he think he is?!

The alpha has the audacity to smirk. To smirk!

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rin says, and the narrator stops. “You threatened to call the police on a yakuza member? Yakuza?”

A spark of annoyance flickers in Sae’s eyes.

“I didn’t know he was a yakuza back then! And we don’t know that he is—!”

“He’s tattooed,” Rin says.

“So is Dad, and you don’t see him shooting people.”

 “How much stupid can you get?” Rin says.

“I might be,” Dad says at the same time.

“If Sae’s dating yakuza, I think it’s sweet,” Mom says. “At least he’s meeting people,” 

Sae’s face turns redder and redder.

“I’m not dating him!”

“Aw, honey, no need to be embarrassed,” she says.

“Dad, you must not pay the ransom when Sae inevitably goes missing,” Rin says.

“Why is nobody concerned?” cries Sae.

“C’mon, c’mon, on with your story,” Mom says, waving a hand impatiently.

Sae sighs.

So, the alpha appears smug. Sae grinds his teeth.

“The police,” the alpha asshole echoes, like the idea actually amuses him. He crosses his arms, and the edge of a tattoo peeks out from beneath his sleeve.

Sae glares harder.

“Unlike you,” Sae says, proudly, “I’m not opposed to getting you in trouble.”

The alpha watches him and then laughs. He shakes his head. “By all means.”

Sae’s eye twitches.

“I’m just gonna ignore you,” he says, exasperated. He is done wasting his time.

Sae stacks chairs, wipes down tables. He finishes closing up, and his legs only buckle a little.

“You know, this place has a nice vibe,” the asshole says, conversationally, like they’re old friends. “Cosy, good lighting. Good coffee.”

Sae’s grip tightens on the rag, but he keeps wiping, jaw clenched. Ignore him.

“Oh, and the music,” the asshole continues, glancing up at the speakers. “Could be better. A little more jazz, maybe. Something with soul, you know?”

Sae scrubs harder at an already clean table, his eye twitching.

“But hey, point for the atmosphere. Smells hood in here, too,” he says, then smirks. “Though I’m guessing that’s mostly you.” 

Sae’s cheeks go red. Head down, he moves to the next table. Just ignore him. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. 

“You’re feisty, for an omega. And pretty good at pretending you don’t need help. But you missed a spot on that last table.”

Sae stops dead in his tracks. 

“Will you just shut up?!”

The guy raises his eyebrows. “Touchy, touchy,” he says. “But seriously, you left a spot.”

Patience snaps. Ta-da. Sae slams the rag at the asshole.

“Work hours are over, client.” Sae glares. “If you see a spot, clean up after yourself next time.”

And Sae doesn’t see where he is going. He is too busy glaring to look at what’s in front of him. He completely misses the chair he left out while cleaning and trips over one of its legs with a yelp. Damn it.

It’s not because of his heat—absolutely not—it’s just that he’s clumsy and his head is a little light from the long shift and maybe, just maybe, a bit of exhaustion. An arm wraps around his waist and steadies him.

“Cliché.”

“Shut up, Rin.”

Sae’s heart skips a beat.

“Easy,” the asshole alpha murmurs, voice low and right above him. 

Sae looks up, eyes widening. They’re so close. Mouths inches away! His hand is very warm on Sae’s belly, eyes softened and gazing intently into Sae’s… Sae shivers, the heat under his skin flares.

He wants more…

“So,” the asshole alpha number one in the world murmurs quietly, “still ignoring me?”

Sae shoves him away.

“All of you are the same!” Sae snaps.

He glares at him. His cheeks are flushed with heat, his breath heavy and shallow, scent flaring hot and bitter around them. The alpha stumbles back a step, more out of surprise than anything else, but he doesn’t retaliate.

“Yeah?” the alpha says quietly, still infuriatingly calm. “And what exactly am I the same as?”

Sae scoffs, looking away. Leo used him, left him after spouting hurtful words, naked in bed, when Sae felt soft and in love.

“I’ll call Dad,” Sae says in the end, worn down and glaring. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Will this make you leave me alone?”

“And this is how I ended up calling Dad in the late evening, and he left only after Dad showed up,” Sae says.

“Oh, Sae…” Mom says. “Not everyone’s out here to hurt you, my sweet.”

“Romance… ew,” Rin says.

“And, and you know Dad’s first words when I get into the car?” Sae asks, in disbelief. “He looks me dead in the eye and asks since when I am making friends with the yakuza. How?”

“Oh, come on, he’s probably not yakuza,” Mom says.

“He has tattoos, and tattoos in Japan means yakuza,” Dad says.

Rin snorts. “By that logic, you’re a gang member too.”

Dad looks at him. “I might be.”

Sae groans and slumps back in his chair. “This is ridiculous. It’s a fashion state. End of story.”

“Definitely no red flags there,” Rin says.

“It was condescending.”

“Right.”

Sae glares as if his willpower alone might sink Rin like a stone.

“You should buy him a coffee,” Mom says.

Sae nearly chokes, spluttering, “What?!”

Mom shrugs. “Well, he went to all that trouble to make sure you were safe, didn’t he? Seems like the polite thing to do.”

“He practically stalked me,” Sae says, his cheeks going red. “I’m not buying him anything. He’s an arrogant, tattooed jerk who thinks he’s got me all figured out.”

Mom raises an eyebrow, giving him a sly smile. “So he doesn’t have you all figured out?”

Sae’s face flushes deeper, and he crosses his arms defensively. “No! He’s—ugh, he’s impossible.”

“Sounds like you’re both impossible. Match made in heaven, if you ask me,” Rin says.

“Nobody asked you.” Sae glares at Rin as if he glare alone could set him on fire. Sunk, set on fire, anything. 

Sae refuses to look at any of them. He slumps in his chair.

“You’re all impossible,” he mutters.

- - -

In a week’s time, the doorbell jingles again.

Sae barely glances up from behind the counter, going through the motions of making coffee for the last customer. 

It’s him. 

The douchebag slash asshole slash jerk slash impossible. 

His eyes—sharp, and bright, and framed by thick blond lashes—land on Sae almost immediately. Sae inwardly groans, and horrified, thinks. He looks hot. The tattoos on his forearms are hot. Those rolled-up sleeves of his shirt are hot.

Tattoos that scream bad idea but look so damn good on him. He wears tattoos like he wears that smirk—carelessly, insolently, infuriatingly. The fabric stretches over his broad shoulders, tapers down a toned frame that’s all sinewy muscle and watery mouth because Sae is suddenly, inexplicably thirsty.

Sae’s cheeks heat up, and he tears his eyes away. The douchebag heads straight to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Sae asks, refusing to look up.

“Latte,” the douchebag says.

“Here or to go?”

“To go.”

The douchebag reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet with an amused little smile. Sae feels his irritation bubble up all over again.

When the douchebag moves to hand over the cash, Sae finds himself blurting out.

“It’s on the house.”

The douchebag pauses, hand hovering in mid-air. For a split second, he looks surprised, but then that smirk of his return and he grins.

“Go on a date with me,” he says.

Sae’s brain stutters to a halt. He blinks, staring at the douchebag, Ryuusei (?), certain he must have misheard. “What?”

“Go to dinner with me.” Ryuusei tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “You buy me coffee, I buy you dinner. Seems fair, don’t you think?”

Sae’s cheeks heat up.

“That’s not… I didn’t… I was just trying to get rid of you faster.”

Ryuusei chuckles. “I will be gone in a blink of an eye if you say yes.”

“I don’t date cocky alphas who can’t take a hint,” Sae says.

“Well, that’s a shame, because this cocky alpha is asking you anyway.” Ryuusei leans in just a fraction, his gaze warm and unrelenting, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Come on. One dinner. You can keep pretending you hate me the whole time, if it helps.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just… annoying.” And hot. Sae mentally beats himself. He says, in the end. “Fine. One dinner. Just to get you to leave me alone.”

Ryuusei’s eyes light up, his grin widening into a full-blown smile.

“That’s all I need. One chance.”

“Ha! Pay up, Dad.”

“You bet on me?!”