Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The university gym was alive with motion - weights clanking, sneakers squeaking against the floor, the rhythmic thud of feet hitting the treadmills. It was a typical Thursday afternoon, and the gym was busy - students pushing their limits, grinding away at their goals. The smell of sweat and rubber filled the air, a scent Fuma had long grown used to. He had always liked the gym. It was predictable and structured. A place where he could focus on nothing but his own strength and endurance, pushing his limits rep by rep. His world condensed into the controlled rhythm of his breathing and the strain of his muscles under weight.

Fuma gritted his teeth as he pushed through another set of bench presses, the loaded bar heavy in his hands, but manageable. His muscles burned with the effort, sweat drenching his skin, and the rhythmic thump of other people dropping their weights on the padded ground echoed in his ears. He could feel the tension in his chest, the strain in his arms, but it was the kind of strain he welcomed. The kind that meant progress, growth.

Across from him, Hyunjae was mid-bench press, his expression scrunched in exaggerated focus while Kevin stood beside him, counting loudly with absolutely no rhythm.

"Seven... eleven... sixteen…"

"Kev, what the hell," Hyunjae grunted as he pushed the weight up and locked it into place. He sat up, glaring at Kevin, who just grinned.

Fuma's own spotter, Chan, also wasn’t focused. He was leaning against the bar rack, his eyes trained on the suspended track that circled the indoor gym like a second-floor halo.

“What the hell are you guys even looking at?” Hyunjae asked, following Chan’s gaze where he was watching the varsity soccer team jog their umpteenth lap. “Oh.”

Most days the soccer team practiced outside, where large garage-style doors in the gym were usually open and leading to the field, but it was raining outside today, so therefore the team was on the indoor track. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary to see them around - the team trained at this time every week. Fuma could hear their steady footsteps, the sound a dull hum mixed with the occasional voice shouting out instructions. But more than the sound, Fuma could feel the distraction of it all. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the burn in his arms, but his attempts weren’t so successful.

"Look at Minho go. Damn, his thighs look great in those shorts." Chan sighed wistfully, watching his mate run. 

“Speaking of shorts, I think Juyeon is wearing mine” Kevin squinted his eyes like it would help him better identify the black material his packmate was wearing.

Fuma sighed as re-racked the bar, rolling his shoulders as he sat up to grab his water bottle. He’s given up on the bench presses, not wanting to accidentally get trapped under the heavy weight while his friends were too busy drooling over the exposed thighs of the runners above them. He didn’t have a mate like Chan or a packmate like Hyunjae and Kevin to get excited about, so their enthusiasm was lost on him. He just wanted to finish his reps in peace.

Then Hyunjae, who usually didn’t get distracted easily, nodded toward the runners and said, "Kei’s making them all look like amateurs."

That got Fuma’s attention. He took a sip from his water bottle, his eyes flicking to the track above the weight area. Most of the soccer team looked exhausted - sweat-drenched, red-faced, and struggling to keep up - but one runner stood out.

At the front of the pack, leading with ease, was Kei. Fuma watched, his eyes lingering on the back of Kei’s broad shoulders as he ran, his form effortlessly graceful despite the hard pace.

Kei. Captain of the soccer team. Third-year alpha. And effortlessly the coolest guy on campus. Even after running god-knows-how-many laps, Kei wasn’t even winded. His breathing was steady, his form strong. His black athletic tank stuck to his skin, highlighting his lean, toned frame as he ran ahead of the pack. He was focused, completely in the zone, like pushing his body to the limit didn’t even faze him.

"Man, if I had his build," Kevin sighed dreamily, flexing his own arms in exaggerated admiration. "I’d have every omega in this gym eating out of my hand."

Hyunjae chuckled, not taking his eyes off the alpha in question. "You’re too short, Kev. They wouldn’t even look twice."

The beta shot him a glare, but Hyunjae didn’t care. Kei, as usual, commanded the attention of everyone in the room. His presence was magnetic, like an untouchable force that seemed to pull everyone toward him without effort. Fuma had noticed him before, it was impossible not to. He wasn’t into weird idolization or anything, but… still. He’d always noticed Kei.

Everyone in school knew him. Alphas wanted to be him, betas wanted to impress him, and every omega within a ten-mile radius wanted his attention. He wasn’t just the captain of the soccer team - he was the alpha on campus. Charismatic, athletic, and frustratingly attractive, Kei carried himself with the kind of easy confidence that made him stand out among other alphas. Whether in class or passing by on campus, Kei had a presence that was hard to ignore. Even now, he ran with smooth, even strides, pushing forward like there was nowhere else he belonged more than in motion.

Fuma had never spoken to him. They were in the same program, sure, but he had never once worked up the courage to approach him. Kei was one of those people who felt untouchable, like a figure of legend rather than a real person, and Fuma never thought of himself as being cool enough for Kei to notice him.

"Can you believe he’s top of the program?" Chan mused, lowering his voice as though it were a secret. "I don’t even know how he does it all. Soccer on top of Kinesiology and still makes it look easy. If it weren’t for Minho dragging my ass out of bed every day, I would’ve dropped out a long time ago.”

“Man, Kei’s got them running like they’re training for the Olympics,” Hyunjae laughed.

“More like boot camp,” Kevin snorted. “Juyeon looks like he’s about to collapse.”

“Yeah, well, Kei’s a beast. The guy makes everything look easy.” Chan added, his voice almost in awe. 

Fuma could feel his jaw clenching tighter, but he refused to let the frustration show. Of course, Kei made it look easy. He always did. He had everything - strength, skill, good looks, brains. Everything. Fuma admired him for that, didn’t he? He’d been the first to acknowledge Kei’s talent when they’d crossed paths during orientation, when he’d seen him stride into the classroom with the same effortless confidence he showed in the field. He’d made a mental note then: ultimate alpha. Someone to admire from afar, someone to look up to.

The younger alpha kept his head down, adjusting the plates on his barbell. He wasn’t sure why he felt on edge. Maybe because Kei wasn’t just some alpha - he was the kind of alpha that people naturally gravitated toward. The kind that stood at the top of the social hierarchy without even trying, and made Fuma feel like he couldn’t measure up, no matter how hard he trained.

“We should get drinks with them this weekend. Chan, can you talk to Minho about arranging something?” Hyunjae asked and Chan nodded. 

“I can just ask him now,” Chan told him and Fuma stiffened as Chan moved closer to under the track where the runners were about to pass by. 

"Minho!"

Chan’s voice cut through the steady hum of the gym, loud enough that Fuma winced. He glanced toward the track just in time to see Minho, mid-stride, looking over at them. The soccer team was still running, but that didn’t seem to matter to Chan, who was waving like a crazy person.

Fuma had known Minho for a while - he was a friendly, easy-going guy, always there for a laugh or a tough challenge on the field. Chan and Minho have been mated for a while now, and they were also the first alpha/alpha relationship Fuma had come across in real life.

Minho slowed slightly, and though he looked a little exasperated, he still shot his mate a small smirk before jerking his chin in acknowledgment.

"He’s gonna get in trouble," Fuma muttered.

"Please," Hyunjae scoffed, leaning against the squat rack. "Minho gets away with everything."

The other alpha stopped running, leaning over the railing to look down at his mate. Chan waved him down and Minho nodded, holding up a finger before Minho veered slightly toward the middle of the track - where Kei was keeping pace ahead of the others. Fuma watched as Minho said something low to his captain. Kei didn’t even slow down, but his head tilted slightly, listening. Juyeon had also slowed his pace, jogging up beside Minho as if sensing an opportunity to escape the brutal training.

Fuma shifted uncomfortably. There was no way Kei was going to let them off early. He was strict but fair, and if Fuma had learned anything about him over the past three years, it was that Kei never slacked off during training. And yet, to his shock, Kei barely hesitated before giving Minho a small nod.

The sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs leading down from the track a few moments later, made them all glance up. Down walked the soccer team, breathing heavily but laughing amongst themselves as sweat made their shirts cling to their bodies. Minho led the way, his strong legs carrying him with ease, his body still taut from the laps he had just completed. Juyeon and Jiwoong were trailing behind him, their faces flushed from the workout, but their smiles wide as they joked with one another. 

Fuma’s eyes automatically flickered to Kei, who was behind the three others, his tall figure obvious to spot, even in a crowd. Chan was already grinning, practically bouncing on his heels when Minho walked up and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Missed me?" Minho teased, pulling Chan in for a quick kiss that had Hyunjae groaning in mock disgust.

"Gross," Hyunjae muttered, nudging Juyeon, who had just reached them. "Can you guys not?"

"You’re just mad because you’re sad and alone," Minho shot back, making the older alpha pout and mutter something about ‘hitting him where it hurts’. 

“Yo! How was the run?” Kevin greeted the others. 

Juyeon groaned as he wiped his face with a towel. “Hell. Next time, I’m setting the pace”

“Yeah, I went to university to avoid going to boot camp” Jiwoong panted from beside him, glaring at their captain. 

Kei, slightly breathless but grinning, swiped a hand through his damp hair and looked over at the group, his eyes meeting Fuma’s. A slow, easy smile curved his lips.

“Hey” Kei greeted him, his voice a little breathless from the run but still controlled.

Oh, God. He was talking to him.

Hyunjae, ever the social one, grinned and clapped a hand on Fuma’s shoulder. "About time you two met. This is Fuma, gym rat extraordinaire. And Fuma, this is Kei, the guy who’s been running laps around everyone else since the day he was born."

“We have classes together.” Kei answered, his gaze never wavering. Fuma’s stomach twisted. He knew that, of course. He’d spent two whole years seeing Kei - seeing him in class, across campus, in passing conversations with mutual friends. But, he hadn’t thought Kei had noticed him back. “Plus, I’ve heard about you”

Fuma blinked, his entire brain short-circuiting. "You… have?"

Kei nodded, crossing his arms. "You’re the alpha who benches more than half our team combined, right?"

"More like the entire team combined." Hyunjae snorted. 

Fuma felt his ears heat up, but he managed a casual shrug. "I just train a lot."

Kei’s gaze flickered over him, taking in the details - his broad shoulders, strong arms, and the controlled strength in his stance. Fuma wasn’t small by any means, but standing in front of the older alpha made him feel different, lesser almost. 

“Do you play any sports?”

“Not really. I used to fight though. Just some martial arts training” Fuma shook his head. 

"Huh… well, it’s nice to finally talk to you," Kei said, tone casual but his gaze lingering just a little too long. Fuma had no idea what to say so he just nodded back in response, trying to focus back on what his friends were saying but his mind was elsewhere. 

He still wasn’t sure how to process the fact that Kei had actually spoken to him. That the campus legend himself had not only acknowledged his existence but had also seemed genuinely interested in him. “You’re the alpha who benches more than half our team combined, right?” It had just been a casual comment. Small talk, really. But it meant Kei knew him. And not just in passing - he’d actually heard about him.

Fuma had never thought of himself as particularly well-known. Sure, he trained hard, and yeah, some people in the kinesiology program knew about him, but he wasn’t on the soccer team, and he wasn’t some social butterfly. He had his friends, his routine, his focus. He didn’t expect people like Kei to notice him. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. 

The next day, Fuma was back in the gym but alone this time. It was “too early” according to his friends, but Fuma liked the quieter atmosphere of coming before classes started. He preferred it this way sometimes - no distractions, just the raw focus of lifting. The sound of clinking weights, the occasional grunt of exertion from other gym-goers, and the deep bass of whatever playlist was echoing through the speakers overhead. His muscles burned as he pushed through another set, thighs trembling slightly as he locked the bar on the squat rack. He exhaled, shaking out his legs before reaching for his water bottle.

Fuma never saw anyone he knew at the gym this early, which is probably why he was so caught off guard when, as he switched to the leg press machine, a familiar presence entered the gym.

No way. What was Kei doing here?

Fuma almost did a double take when he saw the older alpha walking toward the treadmills, dressed in a black compression shirt and running shorts. He forced himself to focus, adjusting the weights on the machine. He definitely wasn’t going to let himself get caught staring again. Kei was just here to train, like anyone else. But then the smell of amber and cedarwood filled his senses and where the hell was that coming from? Fuma looked up and jumped a bit in surprise. 

“Yo.” Kei was standing right in front of him. 

Fuma blinked, composing himself as he looked up at the taller alpha. "Hey."

Kei tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging into something between a smirk and a casual smile. "You always train early?"

Fuma wiped his palms on his shorts, trying to play it cool as he shrugged. "Sometimes. I like to get it out of the way before classes start."

Kei hummed, nodding in approval. "Smart. I usually run later in the day, but I had some free time." He gestured toward the treadmill area. "Figured I’d get some cardio in."

Fuma raised a brow. "You don’t get enough of that from practice?"

Kei let out a short laugh, crossing his arms. "You’d think, huh? But soccer endurance is different from just straight-up stamina training." He glanced at the weights around Fuma before nodding toward them. "What are you working on today?"

Fuma hesitated for a second before answering. "Leg day."

Kei whistled lowly. "Brave."

"What, you don’t do leg day?" Fuma snorted. 

"I do. But I hate it. Who actually likes suffering?" Kei laughed. 

"You get used to it." Fuma shrugged. He knew a lot of guys avoided leg day, but he kinda liked it. 

The older alpha looked him over, clearly taking in his form and the set-up of his workout. Fuma should have been used to being observed at the gym - people always watched the stronger lifters, whether for admiration or intimidation - but this was different. This was Kei. And Kei wasn't just glancing, he was assessing.

Finally, after a long pause, he nodded. "You got good form."

Fuma blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… thanks?"

Kei’s smirk widened slightly. "No wonder people talk about you."

There it was again. Fuma leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees.

"What exactly are people saying about me?"

"That you’re strong. Consistent. One of the best lifters in the program."

"That’s just because I don’t slack off."

"Exactly." Kei looked at him, something almost amused in his expression. "Not every alpha can back up their reputation with actual hard work."

Fuma exhaled through his nose. That was fair. He had seen plenty of guys who thought they were hot shit just because they were alphas - guys who relied on genetics and not actual effort. Kei, however, wasn’t one of them. And Fuma could tell that Kei didn’t say things lightly. If he was giving a compliment, he meant it. Fuma didn’t know what to do with that information.

"You ever think about training athletes?" Kei asked suddenly.

Fuma blinked. "What?"

"You’re studying kinesiology, right? Ever think about working with teams?"

Fuma hesitated. He had considered it before - he liked watching sports, and he really liked training - but he’d never made a solid decision about his future yet.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "I like training, but I don’t know if I want to work with a specific team or do something else with it."

Kei hummed, thoughtful. "You’d be good at it."

Fuma raised a brow. "You don’t even know me."

Kei just smirked. "I know enough."

Fuma opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Kei clapped a hand on his shoulder - firm and solid. 

"Finish your workout. I’ll see you around, Fuma."

And just like that, he was gone. Fuma stared after him, his shoulder tingling where Kei’s hand had been.

What the hell just happened?

Fuma wasn’t the type to overthink things. He preferred to focus on what was in front of him - his workouts, his studies, his friends. He didn’t care much for university drama, social climbing, or trying to impress people. That wasn’t why he worked out, and it wasn’t why he trained. So, when Kei showed up at the gym again, Fuma tried not to read into it. But it kept happening.

At first, he figured it was a coincidence. Most alphas liked working out, and the university gym was one of the best ones in town. It made sense that Kei would be here - after all, he was an athlete, and cardio wasn’t the only thing a soccer captain needed. But then Kei started showing up more. And it wasn’t like the other alpha was just existing in the background, either - he always made it a point to talk to him.

The gym was packed today. Fuma had expected it - late afternoon was always the busiest time, when students who had been cooped up in lectures all day flooded in to blow off steam. The weight section was crowded, the treadmills were full, and the air smelled of sweat, ambition, and pre-workout drinks.

"Leg day again?"

Fuma turned at the familiar voice, already unsurprised. He was getting ready for his first workout, adjusting the plates on his barbell before glancing at Kei, who stood a few feet away, looking like he had just got here. He was dressed in a loose t-shirt and shorts. His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead, and his scent - amber and cedarwood - was stronger today, probably from the heat of the gym.

"You don’t do leg day, so I gotta do it for both of us," Fuma deadpanned.

Kei huffed a quiet laugh, crossing his arms. "I do it. I just don’t enjoy it."

"Sure you do." Fuma smirked, settling back into his workout. But Kei didn’t leave

That was another thing Fuma noticed - whenever Kei came to the gym and didn’t immediately head for the treadmill or the stair machine, he always trained near the younger alpha. Like he was orbiting close enough to be present, but not so close that it was overbearing. Fuma didn’t completely hate it. Which was weird, because he usually hated when random people hovered around him during workouts. He wasn’t a personal trainer (yet), and he wasn’t interested in being one of those gym alphas who compared stats with everyone, or just constantly flexed in front of the mirror.

But Kei was different. He wasn’t interrupting Fuma’s workout to constantly chat with him, and their workouts were still separate… just close together. 

“Are you sure you’ve never thought about coaching?” Kei asked.

"Why? Offering me a job?"

"I’m just saying. A lot of alphas our age are cocky as hell about their strength. But you? You don’t need to prove it. And that’s rare."

"I don’t see the point in showing off. I know I’m strong. That’s enough." Fuma shrugged. 

"Yeah. That’s why people talk about you."

"You keep saying that. I didn’t realize I had a fan club."

"You don’t. But people notice when an alpha isn’t trying to prove himself every five seconds." Kei laughed as he picked up his water bottle, twisting the cap off. "That’s why I respect you."

Fuma had been about to take a sip of his own drink but paused at that. He gave the alpha a curious look. "You respect me?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?"

Fuma didn’t have an answer for that. Because honestly, he wasn’t used to being respected by people like Kei. Not that he had a reputation for being weak or anything - far from it, obviously - but because he didn’t play into the same competitive, dominance-driven mindset that most alphas did. He wasn’t interested in being the strongest guy in the room just for the sake of it.

"You say that now but wait until I start beating you at your own PB's."

Kei barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Listen, I wanna train with you”

“Train with me?” Fuma tilted his head. 

"I’ve been thinking about it. Strength training. Increasing my physical power for soccer. I already have endurance, but if I can build more muscle in the right areas, I can play even stronger." Kei explained.

Fuma wiped the sweat from his brow, eyeing him carefully. "You already train a lot, though."

"Yeah," Kei admitted. "But I don’t train like you do."

There it was again - that weight behind his words, that respect in his tone.

Fuma frowned slightly, crossing his arms. "You could train with your own team."

"I could, but they’re not you. I don’t wanna train with just anyone," Kei continued. "If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right. And you’re the best guy I know for this."

Fuma exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You sure about that?"

"You saying you’re not good enough?"

Fuma scoffed. "No. I’m saying you don’t really seem like you need help."

Kei tilted his head, his smirk widening slightly. "And yet, I’m asking for it."

Fuma paused. Truthfully, he had been considering getting a personal training certification - something he could do part-time while finishing his degree. He loved fitness, and if he could make money doing it, why not? Kei would be a tough first client, but the offer was still tempting. Plus, they were both in Kinesiology. They trained the same way. They pushed each other, even if Kei was unbearably smug about it, and Fuma had to admit - he did work harder with Kei around. And there was something about Kei’s trust in him that made it hard to refuse.

Fuma sighed. "Alright. When do we start?"

Kei’s grin widened. "Now."

Fuma exhaled through his nose, amused. "Didn’t even give me time to prepare."

"You don’t need preparation."

Fuma shook his head but motioned toward the open, warm up area. He'll need to see where Kei was at - not just in terms of raw strength, but flexibility, endurance, and form. No point in building a workout plan if the older alpha already had his foundations locked in. So they started simple.

"Alright," Fuma said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Before we jump into weights, we’re gonna warm up properly."

Kei gave him a look. "You think I don’t warm up?"

"You probably don’t warm up enough," Fuma countered. "Just humor me."

"Alright, coach. What’s first?"

Fuma guided him through a series of dynamic stretches, focusing on mobility and range of motion. It was basic stuff - arm swings, torso rotations, leg raises - but important. Fuma knew plenty of guys who skipped this part and paid for it later with injuries. Kei, to his credit, followed every instruction with minimal complaints. In fact, he executed every movement with the kind of precision that made Fuma nod in approval.

After, he had Kei start with basic compound lifts - deadlifts, squats, bench press. He already knew Kei could handle heavy loads, but he wanted to see the finer details - how his form held up under stress, where his weaknesses might be. He had expected Kei to be good. But damn.

The guy was obviously an athlete - his endurance was unmatched, his form was perfect, and his natural strength was already impressive. He moved like someone who knew his body, like someone who had been training at a high level for years.

Fuma leaned against the squat rack, watching as Kei powered through his reps with ease. The older alpha had taken every instruction seriously, executing each movement with precision. There was no struggling, no hesitation - just controlled strength.

This guy doesn’t need a trainer, Fuma thought, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Kei set the barbell back onto the rack, rolling out his shoulders as he turned to Fuma. "How’s that?"

"Flawless," Fuma admitted. "You sure you need my help?"

Kei smirked, grabbing his water bottle. "You tell me."

"You know, if you wanted a lifting buddy, you could’ve just asked."

"Maybe. But I meant what I said - I want to train with the best."

Fuma scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re full of shit."

"Maybe. But I’m still here, aren’t I?" Kei laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

That was true. For all the mystery behind Kei’s reasoning, he was taking this seriously. And, if Fuma was being honest, it was nice having a training partner who could actually keep up with him. His own friends either didn’t want to workout for nearly as long as him or tried to turn everything into a competition. Kei just worked. Fuma respected that. 

"Alright," he said, rolling out his shoulders. "If you’re serious, we’ll train together. But I’m not gonna go easy on you."

Kei’s eyes gleamed with something almost challenging. "Good."

“Then let’s get started” Fuma racked up the bar for bench press first and watched as Kei lay down on the bench, getting ready to lift. Fuma stood right behind where Kei’s head was laying, hands hovering nearby in case the older alpha needed help.

“Wait, your grip is off” Fuma reached forward after the older did a few presses, his fingers brushing against Kei’s hands as he adjusted his positioning on the barbell. "Wider grip. Helps with balance and force distribution."

Kei let him adjust it, watching carefully. "Like this?"

Fuma nodded. "Yeah. Try again."

Kei lifted, and this time, it was even smoother.

Fuma crossed his arms, satisfied. "Better. Less strain on your wrists, more power through your chest and shoulders."

"You’re good at this."

Fuma smirked. "I told you I wasn’t gonna go easy on you."

"Good," Kei said. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."

By the end of their workout, and before they had to go home, Kei stopped Fuma with one hand on his shoulder, the other pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“Hey, give me your number so we can meet up again soon”

"Yeah, alright." Fuma cleared his throat as he nearly fumbled Kei’s phone as he took it to put his number in. When he handed it back, his fingers brushed against the older alphas for a second. 

“Perfect,” Kei said, typing something out and a second later, Fuma’s phone buzzed with a notification from an unknown number. “There, text me your schedule later? I’ll do the same so we can see when things align”

“Yeah, sure” Kei squeezed Fuma’s shoulder before walking off, his hands in his pockets. 

Fuma watched him go before looking down at his phone and saving the new number to his phone. 

It took a few days of texting and comparing schedules for Fuma and Kei to finally agree on a Tuesday evening to workout together. They had arranged it for after their classes had finished - Fuma had a late lecture, and Kei had practice, so by the time they both made their way to the gym, it was already past supper.

The building was quieter than usual, a few dedicated students scattered around using the facilities. The hum of weights clanging and the sound of running on treadmills blended into the steady thrum of rap music that blasted from the speakers overhead, filling the gym with a raw, energetic vibe.

Fuma walked into the gym, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that always came with the space, and spotted Kei already by the cardio area, looking at ease among the treadmills and ellipticals as he scrolled through his phone. His tall frame was a striking presence, even in the dim light of the evening gym. The older alpha wore a sleeveless grey shirt that showed off his toned, muscular arms and black track pants while Fuma chose a grey hoodie over a white t-shirt and dark blue shorts. 

“Yo,” Fuma called, waving as he approached. Kei looked up, his eyes lighting up when he saw Fuma, a small grin forming as he waved back, pocketing his phone.

“Hey, you made it,” Kei said, his voice warm and relaxed, like they had been doing this for ages. “Ready to get started?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Fuma answered, feeling a small thrill at the idea of working out with Kei. There was something about the older alpha's easy confidence that made him feel more at home in the gym.

Fuma glanced around, noting the handful of students scattered around. Some were on the treadmills, while others were stretching or lifting weights. It wasn’t crowded, which was ideal - just enough people to make it feel like a gym but not too many to feel overwhelmed.

Kei chuckled, clearly picking up on Fuma’s assessment. “It’s quieter this time of night. Good for when you actually want to focus.”

“Yeah, not like those busy afternoons when everyone’s here,” Fuma said, laughing. “I think I actually prefer it this way.”

Kei nodded, his grin widening. “Same. More space to actually do the work, you know?”

As they stood in the gym, Fuma couldn't help but feel the energy of the music, which had taken a heavier turn, booming through the speakers and adding to the charged atmosphere. The beat was infectious, pumping them both up. The music made Fuma feel more in the moment, like the world outside the gym didn’t exist. It was just him and Kei, a quiet focus between them, with the occasional nod or smile exchanged.

“So, what do you wanna start with?” Fuma asked.

“Should you have already decided that as my trainer?” Kei teased and the younger alpha rolled his eyes. 

“I thought we agreed on being workout buddies with some solicited comments allowed from me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just like calling you my personal trainer” Kei teased, motioning for the younger alpha to follow him.

Fuma didn’t hate cardio. Really, he didn’t. He just… didn’t love it. Stretching? That was how he liked to start his workouts - gradual, controlled, calculated. Easing his body into movement before loading it with weight. But Kei had a different idea.

After Fuma asked what they were gonna start with, Kei flashed him a grin - one Fuma quickly learned meant trouble.

“Running.”

"A run?" Fuma frowned. 

Kei smirked. "What, you scared?"

"No. I just don’t waste my time with stuff that’s not efficient." Fuma rolled his eyes. “You know, most people start with stretching.

Kei waved a hand, already leading the way toward the treadmills. “Yeah, yeah, stretching’s good - after cardio.”

Fuma muttered something under his breath but followed anyway.

The second they stepped onto the treadmills, Kei cranked his up without hesitation, settling into a smooth, easy pace. Kei ran like he was built for it. His posture was perfect, his breathing steady, his pace controlled. It was the kind of natural athleticism that Fuma had seen before, the type that made it look too easy. Fuma eyed him from the side, already mildly irritated by how effortlessly the older alpha moved. He kept own speed a bit slower, just to keep things steady before trying to increase his pace later. 

The first few minutes were fine. They ran in silence, the only sound between them the steady pounding of their feet against the machines and the hum of the gym equipment around them. Kei, of course, noticed Fuma jogging a bit behind. Fuma caught the glance from the corner of his eye, the slight lift of an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, not looking over.

Kei’s smirk was almost lazy. “Didn’t take you for the slow and steady type.”

Fuma huffed. “I pace myself.”

Kei chuckled. “Yeah? Let’s see if you can keep up.” And then he increased his speed.

Fuma clenched his jaw. Oh. So it was like that? Fine. He pressed the button on his own machine, bumping up the pace, matching Kei’s stride for stride. Kei grinned. And then he sped up again, making Fuma swear under his breath.

The next few minutes turned into an unspoken challenge, both of them steadily increasing speed, neither willing to be the first to back down.

Fuma liked to think of himself as strong. Disciplined. Focused. Built for endurance. But right now? Right now, he wanted to die. His legs felt like lead, and sweat dripped down his temple as he stumbled off the treadmill just before the 10 minute mark, barely managing to catch himself before collapsing onto the floor. He bent over, hands braced on his knees, gasping for breath like he’d just sprinted through hell.

His lungs ached, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven movements as he tried - and failed -to catch his breath. Each inhale burned, a sharp reminder of how stupid it was to get into a silent pissing match with Kei over a warm-up.

'A warm-up', my ass. This was supposed to be the easy part.

Ten straight minutes of running way faster than he should have gone all because Kei pushed him into it. Stupid pride. Stupid alpha competitiveness. Stupid Kei.

A warm hand landed on his back, sliding over the fabric of his sweat-drenched shirt. And then, laughter. Low, amused, infuriatingly smug laughter.

“Damn,” Kei mused, sounding entirely too relaxed for someone who had just run the same amount. “You okay, tough guy?”

Fuma squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on catching his breath. Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Kei’s hand stayed, pressing just slightly against his back - broad and warm and too damn casual.

“Want me to get you a wheelchair?” Kei teased. “Or maybe a medic?”

Fuma groaned. “Shut up.”

Kei just laughed harder. “Hey, no shame in tapping out. Cardio’s not for everyone.”

Fuma forced himself to stand up, gritting his teeth as he straightened, pushing Kei’s hand off his back in the process. His body felt too hot.

“Look at you,” Kei said, squeezing Fuma’s arm. “All that muscle, but no stamina.”

Fuma bristled. “I have stamina.”

Kei’s grin widened like he was waiting for that. “Uh-huh.”

“I do.”

“Sure.”

Fuma exhaled sharply, glancing anywhere but at Kei, who was still too close, still too smug, still smelling like amber and cedarwood, warm and clean even after running a mini marathon. Kei stretched his arms over his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The damn alpha was barely even sweating.

“Alright,” Kei said, voice still laced with amusement. “Let’s go stretch before you collapse.”

Fuma clenched his jaw. “I wasn’t going to collapse.”

Kei patted his back again. “Sure, tough guy.”

Fuma muttered under his breath, ripping his towel off his shoulder and throwing it at him. Kei laughed, easily dodging the cloth, and Fuma forced himself to walk toward the mats without looking back.

The younger alpha sat down on a yoga mat with a sigh, shaking out his shoulders. Stretching was good. Necessary, even. It was a part of the workout Fuma actually liked, so he did it often - before and after workouts, keeping his muscles loose and preventing injuries. But of course, Kei was even annoyingly good at that.

Fuma had expected Kei to be all about strength and endurance - cardio, conditioning, sports training, the usual alpha stuff. He hadn’t thought he’d be the type to care about flexibility. And yet, here he was, sitting on the mat, casually bending himself in ways that made Fuma’s muscles ache just looking at him - hands flat on the floor, forehead practically resting against his shins. Fuma, in contrast, could barely reach past his knees. It wasn’t that he was inflexible - he had decent mobility - but next to Kei, he felt like a stiff block of muscle. He scowled, tugging at his hamstrings as he attempted to go lower, but his muscles protested immediately.

Kei, noticing his struggle, chuckled under his breath. "You’re kinda stiff, huh?" he mused, still easily holding his stretch.

Fuma exhaled through his nose. "I lift. Of course, I’m stiff."

Kei straightened slightly, rolling his shoulders. "Lifting and mobility aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. You gotta stay flexible."

Fuma scoffed, trying to stretch a little further just to prove a point. "I stretch all the time."

Kei raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Doesn’t look like it."

Fuma shot him a glare, his muscles burning as he forced himself lower.

“Need help?” Kei asked, voice way too innocent.

Fuma scowled, shifting slightly as he forced himself deeper into the stretch. “I’m fine.”

Kei hummed, watching him with that same amused glint in his eyes. Then, without warning, he shifted, swinging his leg over until he was sitting right behind Fuma. He's never been this close to another alpha before - not with one sitting behind him, pressed so casually into his space, their presence settling into his skin like it belonged there. 

Fuma wasn’t really sure why he froze. It was just stretching. It wasn’t anything. Kei wasn’t doing anything. But no one had ever touched him like this before. Not another alpha. Not someone just as strong as him, just as built, just as dominant in presence. And certainly not someone who smelled as good as Kei did.

He inhaled sharply as Kei’s hands landed on his back. Large, firm, and very warm hands. But it wasn’t just a touch - it was a press. Kei’s hands weren’t light or fleeting; they were anchoring. Grounding. Fingers spreading slightly, palms settling against the solid plane of his back like they belonged there. And then pressure. A slow, deliberate push against his lower back, guiding him into the stretch, forcing his body to loosen up, to sink deeper.

“Lean forward” Kei said, voice low and too close. 

“What are you -”

“Relax,” Kei chuckled, pressing down slightly, guiding him forward. “You’re way too tense.”

Fuma clenched his jaw, his muscles screaming in protest, but goddamn it, he wasn’t going to look weak. So, he exhaled, letting Kei guide him deeper into the stretch. The second the older alpha applied more pressure, pushing him down just a little further, the strain on his muscles became too much - a sharp pull, right at the edge of his limit.

Before he could stop himself, a small moan slipped from his throat. The alpha behind him froze, hands stilling, and for a second, neither of them moved. Mortified, Fuma reacted instinctively. He snapped up immediately, pulling himself away, and broke the contact.

"Alright! That’s enough stretching!" he blurted, desperately trying to erase the last ten seconds from existence.

Kei thankfully didn’t say anything, just watched as Fuma made his way over to the free weights section, rolling his shoulders as he went - trying to will away the tension still clinging to his muscles.

It was nothing. Just a stretch, just a normal part of working out. Kei was just helping. There was no reason for his heart to still be beating like this.

“Squats first?” Kei asked, already heading towards an open rack. 

Fuma forced a slow exhale and grabbed some plates, falling back into a routine, into something familiar - something that didn’t involve another alpha’s hands on his back, pressing into his skin like they belonged there.

“Yeah,” Fuma said, voice steady, normal. Like nothing had happened. Cause nothing did happen.

Kei nodded, taking the weights from Fuma and loaded them onto the barbell. He wasn’t looking at the younger alpha too much, not saying anything teasing or smug. Fuma should have felt relieved. Except, Kei acting normal now was almost worse. Because it meant Fuma had to deal with himself.

There was nothing to react to, nothing to push back against, no teasing or smug grins for him to scowl at - just Kei, working out like everything was fine. Like Fuma hadn’t stiffened under his hands, like his scent hadn’t wavered, like that brief moment of pressure and warmth hadn’t done something to him.

Fuma scowled at himself. Get it together.

Kei stepped under the bar so it was just touching the tops of his shoulders, his hands coming up to grip the bar in proper position. “Spot me?”

“Yeah.”

Fuma stepped behind him, hands ready to help as Kei lifted the bar off the rack and took a few steps forward. 

Normal. This was normal. Just two dudes, two alphas spotting each other for a workout. 

Kei’s arms flexed under the weight, his muscles shifting fluidly, controlled, his body moving with ridiculous ease. His breathing was steady, his form solid - of course he was good at this, too. Fuma focused on counting reps, not on how Kei’s shorts stretched against his legs when he lowered the bar, not on not hearing the slightly ragged rhythm of his breath, not on not inhaling his scent as it became mixed with the salty musk of sweat.

“Your turn,” Kei said after re-racking the bar, so Fuma could switched places with him.

Fuma got into position, gripping the bar. Kei’s hands settled just under it, close but not touching, ready to spot him. This was just another workout. Just another training session.

They quickly got into a rhythm, moving from one set to the next with ease. Fuma was focused on keeping up with Kei, matching his pace but also trying to keep his attention from straying too much. The closeness of the workout, the shared effort, felt good - felt natural, even. And with every movement, every pass of the weights, he could feel the growing connection between them, the way they communicated without words, pushing each other to go just a little further.

The night went on, the gym remaining relatively quiet, the only sounds the thudding of weights being placed back and the occasional burst of laughter from the few students around. Fuma couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease during a workout, and it had nothing to do with the physical exhaustion that was slowly building up in his muscles - it was the companionship, the ease between him and Kei. It was... different.

They were finally winding down, a good hour later, when Kei glanced over at Fuma, his smile quieter but no less genuine.

“Not bad for your first, official workout with me,” Kei said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “You kept up better than I expected.”

Fuma wiped his own brow, letting out a breath. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.” He couldn’t help but laugh a little, feeling a rush of satisfaction. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game next time.”

Kei chuckled, stretching his arms over his head. “Don’t worry. We’ll see who’s really better by the end of the semester.”

Fuma grinned, his heart still racing from the workout and his muscles aching in the best way - the soreness already setting in.  They grabbed their bags from the locker room, the air between them settling into something easier, less competitive.

Chapter Text

Fuma hadn’t expected Kei to become a regular presence in his life. At first, it was just the workouts - three days a week, early mornings or late afternoons, depending on their schedules. Kei would text him with something simple:

Kei:

gym tomorrow?

leg day. no excuses.

hope your arms aren’t still dead from last time.

And without fail, Fuma always showed up. Because working out with Kei was good for him. The other alpha pushed him, challenged him, and kept things interesting. There was no sugarcoating, no easy way out. They both knew how to push limits, and neither of them backed down.

But somewhere along the way, it stopped being just about the gym. Kei would stroll into class, and Fuma would already be in his seat, glancing up just as Kei smiled and dropped into the seat beside him. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t even intentional. It was just happening. And at some point, Fuma realized he had stopped thinking of Kei as just another alpha he worked out with. Now, Kei was a friend. 

Which was something Fuma had kinda been looking forward to. Before, he always thought of Kei as someone distant, someone he saw around campus, a face in a crowded lecture hall, popular in a way that made him seem unreachable. 

The day after their first workout together, Fuma had barely walked into the lecture hall when he heard a familiar voice greet him.

“Morning.” Kei nodded his head at him as Fuma walked up the lecture hall stairs. Caught off guard, he had only managed a stiff nod before taking his seat. 

Then it happened again. And again. And again. Kei would greet him every time they were in the same place - whether it was class, the hallways, the cafeteria, or even just passing each other outside the building.

Sometimes it was casual. A simple “Hey, Fuma.” Other times it was teasing. A grin and a ‘still sore from last time?’ as they crossed paths. It didn’t matter if they were surrounded by a group of people or if it was just the two of them killing time after class. Kei would always turn to Fuma, start a conversation, and include him.

Once, Kei had bumped his shoulder against Fuma’s on the way to their seats, flashing him a smirk like they were old friends. Another day, Fuma walked into their Biomechanics and Movement Science class and found Kei already sitting at their usual row toward the back. Except this time, instead of spreading his things out or keeping his space open, Kei had placed his bag in the seat next to him. When the older alpha had noticed him approaching, he moved his bag off the seat for Fuma to slide into it. The younger settled in like it had been his seat all semester, flipping open his own notes just as the professor began the lecture.

From that point on, it became a habit that the two would sit beside each other. It was unspoken that whoever got there first, would save a seat for the other alpha. At first, they didn’t talk much during class, just the occasional murmur or comment when the professor said something particularly ridiculous. But then came the note-sharing.

It started when Fuma forgot to write down a key formula during a particularly dense lecture on muscle mechanics. He was flipping through his notebook, frowning, when Kei casually slid his own notes toward him.

"Here," Kei muttered under his breath.

Fuma glanced at him, surprised. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Just give it back before I need it."

Fuma took the notes, scanning them quickly. He had expected Kei’s handwriting to be a mess, but it was surprisingly neat - sharp, efficient, like the way he carried himself. After that, if one of them missed something, the other filled in the blanks. If they had a question, they whispered it between them.

Even their friend groups started hanging out more. It made sense - they overlapped a lot already. Juyeon, Hyunjae and Kevin were in the same pack and Chan and Minho were mates, and once Kei and Fuma started working out together, it felt natural for their groups to just… merge. So now, they saw each other everywhere. At the gym. On campus. At bars, at cafés, at house parties, at random hangouts that weren’t even planned. Fuma would walk into a room, and - of course Kei was there.

Like when Juyeon got an 86% on his Human Nutrition and Metabolism essay, a never seen before grade, so they took him out to lunch to some cafe Kevin had seen on Instagram and suggested they go check out. It was one of those new, trendy cafes that popped up on campus a few weeks ago. The windows let in tons of natural light, illuminating the brick walls. There’s a mix of reclaimed wooden tables paired with metal chairs, and clusters of plush, mismatched armchairs and velvet-upholstered sofas. Overhead, string lights hang from the raw, corrugated metal ceiling, their warm, golden glow softening the otherwise industrial space.

On one side of the cafe, a carefully curated bookshelf spans an entire wall, its eclectic collection of novels, art books, and vintage magazines interspersed with small potted succulents and trailing ivy, adding a touch of bohemian charm. Nearby, an open-concept barista station has gleaming state-of-the-art espresso machines, polished copper accents, and artisanal jars filled with locally roasted coffee beans and exotic spices display a dedication to quality and craftsmanship.

Fuma and his friends were sitting on two sofas, when Kei walked in. He was used to the older alphas in compression shirts and shorts or sweatpants and hoodies, so it was different to see him in a loose-fitting sweater and jeans, hair left down instead of pushed back with a headband or hat like it usually was. 

"Yo, over here!" Hyunjae called, waving him over from where they sat near the window. Kevin was already there, sipping on a sugary iced coffee that had more whipped cream than caffeine. Chan and Minho sat across from him, their conversation already animated, while Jiwoong and Juyeon were leaning back in their chairs, looking half-asleep from staying up late last night to finish their essays. Fuma had gotten just a plain, black coffee - nothing special. 

Kei dropped into the seat beside Minho, stretching out his legs before glancing at Fuma and his plain ceramic mug full of hot coffee. “No special drink?”

Kevin laughed, sipping his own drink. "Fuma doesn’t consume sugar. He eats like a caveman. All protein, no fun.”

"That is not true," Fuma glared at the beta.

“Dude, you literally denied the free cookie they were handing out. The barista definitely thinks you’re a weirdo”

“I don’t like jam-filled cookies” Fuma frowned. 

“That’s not the point! Plus, you should’ve taken it anyways. I could’ve eaten it” Kevin rolled his eyes pouting. 

“What kind of cookies do you like then?” Kei asked him. 

“... the normal kind?” Fuma finally answered after thinking about it. 

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. "That’s such a boring answer, dude. Like, what’s your guilty pleasure food?"

Fuma frowned. "I don’t know. I don’t really break my diet much”

Kevin gasped dramatically. "Are you telling me you’ve never had a single moment of weakness? No late-night fast food? No eating an entire bag of chips just because you can?"

Fuma shrugged. "Not really."

"That’s so sad," Juyeon muttered, shaking his head.

Minho smirked, nudging Kei. "What about you, captain? You’ve gotta have one."

Kei thought for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. "Spicy ramen."

Chan snorted. "That’s it?"

"No, but that’s my go-to." Kei grinned, drumming his fingers on the table. "If I’m gonna cheat, I’m gonna suffer through it."

“Fuma, we’re peer pressuring you to break your diet. I’ll go get you something, my treat” Kevin shook his head like he was still personally offended by Fuma not having a sweet tooth. 

Fuma opened his mouth to argue, but Hyunjae was already shoving him back into his seat.

"Let it happen," Hyunjae said, smirking. "You deserve a little corruption."

Fuma sighed, knowing he’d already lost as Kevin marched off toward the counter, loudly debating which dessert would be the best “for a musclehead who’s never had fun” Fuma caught the way Kei was still looking at him, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The beta eventually returns with a vanilla and cherry cookie, still slightly warm. The entire group watches, leaning as Fuma takes it with a sigh. It does smell yummy, familiar almost - the mix of the two flavours something he’s encountered before. 

The first bite of the cookie is tart and sweet, reminiscent of freshly picked fruit on a warm summer day but then the flavour transforms into a velvety layer of vanilla - rich and warm. Fuma admits out loud that it is pretty good. His friends lean back with exaggerated sighs glad he was somewhat impressed with the sugary treat, encouraging him to try sweet treats more often and Fuma can't help but agree with them. Maybe he’ll go out of his comfort zone more often - who knows what else he’s been missing out on?

The next day, Fuma was walking across campus, backpack slung over one shoulder, trying to mentally prepare for his next class, when he felt a familiar presence. 

“Yo, Fuma.”

Fuma barely had time to react before Kei was already beside him, walking at a relaxed pace.

“Where you headed?” Kei asked, glancing over with that same damn grin.

Fuma adjusted his grip on his bag strap. “Class.”

Kei snorted. “Yeah, no shit. Which one?”

“Musculoskeletal Injuries in Sport and Activity”

“Oof,” Kei winced. “Tough one. You good at anatomy?”

“I’m alright,” Fuma said, glancing at him. “You?”

Kei laughed. “Hell no. I get by with flirting my way into study groups.”

Fuma snorted. “That seems irresponsible.”

Kei shrugged, completely unbothered. “Maybe. But it works.”

They reached the building’s entrance, and Kei stepped aside to let Fuma go in first. Fuma hesitated, glancing at him.

“Aren’t you going in?”

“Nah, my class is the next building over.”

Fuma frowned. “Then why -”

Kei just winked. “Felt like walking with you.”

And with that, he turned, casually heading back the way he came, leaving Fuma standing there, slightly flustered and a little bit annoyed.

Fuma wasn’t used to alphas like Kei. 

Kei was loud, carefree, unpredictable. He laughed with his whole body, spoke without hesitation, and never seemed to take things too seriously. He flirted with anyone and everyone, wasn’t afraid to tease people or throw an arm around them, regardless of what their subgender was. He didn’t demand respect - he just had it. Not because of status or dominance, but because people were drawn to him. It was clear his parents loved enough to let him choose himself which hobbies made him happy. 

While on the other hand, Fuma had been born into a strict, but loving traditional household, one that had firm beliefs about what an alpha should be. He had been told that an alpha should be strong, and responsible. That alphas should be disciplined, a leader and someone others could rely on.

Fuma’s father had been that way. His grandfather had been that way. Even the alphas in their family’s social circle all followed the same mold. His father was a respected alpha, the kind of man who believed in structure, discipline, and strength. He was a provider and leader to the family. He carried himself with authority, not afraid to raise his voice to command respect, and he expected his son to be the same. His mate, Fuma’s mother, was an omega, gentle and soft-spoken, always putting family first. She never questioned the roles set before them - alphas lead, omegas follow. She knew that was just the way the world worked.

Fuma also had an older sister, an omega, who had been raised with the same understanding that one day she would find a strong alpha to take care of her. And she did. She luckily fell in love with an alpha who treats her well, got engaged, and their parents were overjoyed. But then there was Fuma.

As the family’s only alpha son, expectations weighed heavily on his shoulders. From a young age, he was taught that alphas must be strong, capable, and reliable. His father made sure he learned the values of discipline - hard work, control, and tradition. He was enrolled in sports early, pushed to excel in physical activities because a strong body made a strong alpha. He was taught to protect, not to show weakness. His father drilled into him that an alpha’s emotions had to be controlled - no room for doubt, no room for hesitation. He was told that omegas were delicate and needed an alpha’s guidance. That beta relationships were fine but temporary. That same gender relationships weren’t natural, and would never work out because in the end, you would always need to fulfill your natural urges.

It wasn’t that Fuma was unhappy - he loved his family. He respected them. But as he grew older, he started to see the cracks in their worldview. University was different from the hometown he grew up in. It was bigger, freer, and full of people who didn’t follow the rules he grew up with. For the first time in his life, he became close to people who lived outside of his family’s expectations.

Like Chan, one of his closest friends, was an alpha dating another alpha. Not secretly, not shamefully, just... openly. Their love was easy, natural, and nothing like the struggle his parents always made it seem like it would be. Fuma couldn't imagine the two of them with literally anyone else. When Chan first introduced Fuma to Minho, his alpha mate, he didn’t know how to feel at first. Fuma had been raised believing these relationships weren’t real, that they would eventually fall apart, that they wouldn’t work in the long run. But watching them - seeing the way Chan and Minho fit together so naturally - made him start to wonder.

Was love really that easy? Could it really be that simple? Or had he spent his whole life believing in rules that didn’t actually matter?

It was the beginning of October, the air still clinging to the last hints of late summer warmth, though the crispness of fall was beginning to creep in. The leaves had just started to turn, small patches of reds and golds appearing in the trees lining the soccer field. Kei had invited Fuma to one of his soccer practices for the first time. The older alpha had suggested it when they tried planning dinner together, but Kei’s practice games kept getting in the way. 

"Come watch for a bit. We’re getting dinner after anyway, so just chill on the bleachers and I’ll be done in an hour by the time you’re done with classes anyways." He had said, so Fuma agreed. 

The soccer field was livelier than Fuma had expected. Even though it was just a practice, the team moved with sharp focus, running drills with impressive speed and coordination. The rhythmic sound of cleats hitting the grass, the sharp calls from teammates, the occasional laughter mixed with the crisp evening air. There were only a few people scattered around the bleachers, so Fuma sat near the middle, a little slouched, one leg propped up on the bench in front of him and a textbook from one of his classes open on his lap. But his eyes were everywhere except the pages. 

He hadn’t really seen Kei play soccer before, at least not in real life. He had seen him pass a ball back and forth with Juyeon during lunch, or in highlight clips on his Instagram but never in person. Even in a practice setting, the alpha commanded the field effortlessly. His voice rang out clear, directing plays, calling out instructions. His movements were sharp, precise, body fully in control as he sprinted, dodged, and passed. The muscles in his legs flexed as he kicked the ball, his form ridiculously clean for someone moving that fast. 

Fuma was so zoned in on watching the team practice that he didn’t notice when the older alpha finally took a break, jogging toward the sidelines to grab a bottle of water. Didn’t notice until Kei turned, bottle halfway up to his lips, and caught sight of him sitting alone on the bleachers.

Kei lifted a hand in a lazy wave, calling out, "You good up there?"

Fuma, who definitely had not just spent the last thirty minutes watching Kei’s every move, rolled his eyes.

"Hurry up, I’m starving!” he shot back.

"I’ll be done soon, I promise" Kei laughed before taking another swig of water and jogging back onto the field.

Practice eventually wrapped up just as the sun dipped lower, casting long golden streaks across the soccer field. Kei barely had time to wipe the sweat from his forehead before he was grabbing his bag and heading straight toward the bleachers where Fuma was waiting.

"You look like you got your ass kicked," Fuma remarked as Kei approached, shouldering his duffle.

Kei scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Please, I do the ass-kicking."

Fuma smirked. "Sure, Captain."

Kei didn’t bother with a comeback, just bumped their shoulders together as they started walking.

Their destination was automatic. A small Chinese restaurant they had discovered only two weeks ago and haven’t been able to stop going to it since. It was tucked into a quiet street corner just a few blocks from Kei’s apartment, the type of place you wouldn’t even notice unless you were looking for it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm and served some of the best food they’d ever had.

By the time they reached the restaurant, the streets were lit by streetlamps, the neon glow from small shops reflecting off the sidewalk. The scent of fried rice, sizzling garlic, and freshly steamed dumplings greeted them before they even stepped inside.

The owners already knew them, and the moment they entered, a familiar voice called out. "Ah, the usual table?"

Kei lifted a hand in greeting to the older man, grinning. "You already know."

Fuma just shook his head as they slid into their preferred booth, tucked against the window, a perfect spot to watch the world pass outside.

The interior was a mix of traditional and modern touches - warm, golden lighting glowed from hanging lights, casting soft shadows against the red and black lacquered walls. The floors were polished dark wood, worn slightly in places where customers had walked the most, proof of its years of service. Against one side, a long glass counter displayed fresh ingredients, dumplings being folded by hand, the clatter of a wok filling the air as a chef tossed noodles high over an open flame.

Booths lined the walls, each separated by low wooden dividers intricately carved with floral patterns, giving a slight sense of privacy without fully closing off the space. The seats were cushioned, the fabric a deep red and on the far wall, a large mural of a Chinese mountain range had been hand painted. A small aquarium sat near the front, filled with lazy goldfish that swam in slow, looping circles, their tails drifting like silk through the water. The sound of soft instrumental guzheng music played in the background, mingling with the quiet chatter of diners and the rhythmic clang of pots and pans from the kitchen.

At their usual booth by the window, condensation lightly fogged the glass, framing the neon lights of the street outside in a hazy glow. The table itself was set with ceramic teacups, a sleek wooden chopstick holder, and a small, handwritten menu tucked between the soy sauce bottles. It was comfortable here. The kind of place where you could lean back, stretch your legs under the table, and forget about everything else for a while.

Kei barely even glanced at the menu before tossing it aside. "I’m starving."

Fuma arched a brow. "When are you not?"

Kei pointed his chopsticks at him. "That’s not the point."

Their usual order was muscle-memory at this point - spicy beef noodle soup, xiaolongbao, and garlic stir-fried green beans for Kei, and mapo tofu, crispy salt & pepper tofu, and beef chow fun for Fuma, plus an extra plate of crispy pork and dumplings because they always said they’d try something new and never did. As they waited for the food, Kei leaned back in his seat, smirking.

"So," he started. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Fuma frowned. "Huh?"

Kei grinned, resting his chin on his palm. "Practice. You were watching pretty hard."

"I was just passing time."

"Uh-huh." Kei tapped his fingers against the table. "If you were any more focused, I would’ve thought you were analyzing my footwork for a research paper."

Fuma scowled, picking up his chopsticks and pointing them at Kei threateningly. "If I stab you right now, will they ban me from here?"

Kei just laughed, stealing a bite of Fuma’s food the moment their dishes arrived.

Mid-October hit like a freight train, bringing with it midterms, endless assignments, and a sudden pause on their usual gym sessions. For Fuma, the shift felt brutal. His body was used to the rhythm of lifting weights, sweating through reps, feeling the burn of a good workout - but now? Now, he was trapped sitting in the library, staring at notes that blurred together, mind running on too little sleep and too much caffeine.

Meanwhile, Kei somehow managed to balance it all. Soccer practice, gym, classes, assignments, midterms - Fuma didn’t know how the hell he did it.

"How do you have time for everything?" Fuma asked one afternoon, slumped over the desk in class, head resting on his folded arms. His textbook lay open in front of him, completely ignored.

Kei, sitting right beside him, didn’t even look up from his laptop.

"I don’t," he admitted, typing something rapidly. "I just pretend I do."

Fuma groaned. "I think I’m dying."

Kei finally glanced over, smirking. "Something tells me you say that every semester."

"Yeah, but this time I mean it."

"Right." Kei spun in his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him. "We should just study together. We have most of the same classes anyway."

Fuma lifted his head slightly, frowning. "You actually want to study? With me?"

Kei snorted. "It’ll probably stop you from complaining so much."

Fuma rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny that it made sense.

They decided to meet at the library the next evening, settling into a booth in the quiet study section, books and laptops spread out in a chaotic mess between them. For the first twenty minutes, they actually focused. Kei was typing notes, and Fuma was reviewing his lecture slides, determined to at least pretend he understood biomechanics, tapping his pen against his notebook.

"Flexion and extension movements occur in the sagittal plane…"

Across from him, Kei let out a sigh, tilting his chair back slightly. "Alright, I'm over this"

Fuma glanced up. "We’ve barely started."

"Exactly," Kei muttered, rubbing his temple. "I hate memorizing definitions. I’d rather just do the movements."

Fuma huffed a quiet laugh. "Not everything can be learned in a gym, Captain."

Kei smirked, leaning forward again. "You're saying that like you don’t think the same way."

Fuma shrugged. "Fair."

They lapsed into silence again, both trying to return to their notes. The library was quiet, but not silent with the occasional rustle of pages turning, the muted hum of students whispering nearby, the distant sound of someone typing.

After an hour, studying was starting to drag. Even with Kei’s occasional sarcastic remarks and Fuma’s dry humor, the energy was dying. Fuma could see it in the way the older alpha’s eyes started to drift toward the window, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table. He wasn’t the type to sit still for long - his body thrived on movement, on action. So, he decided they should switch things up.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Let’s try something different."

Kei raised a brow. "Different how?"

"You learn by doing, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then let’s do something."

Kei leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "What, like act out the flashcards? You want me to be a muscle fiber?"

Fuma rolled his eyes. "No, idiot. I mean, use me as a model."

Kei blinked. "You?"

Fuma shrugged, setting his notebook aside. "You need to memorize muscles, joints, movement patterns. Might as well learn with a real example."

The older alpha tilted his head, then smirked. "So, you’re offering up your body for science?"

"If you say it like that, I’m gonna change my mind."

"Alright, alright. So how does this work?"

“Name the three types of muscle contractions." Fuma rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Kei’s eyes flickered to his bicep before he leaned back, arms crossed. "Concentric, eccentric, isometric."

Fuma picked up one of his heftier textbooks, letting the muscles in his forearm flex. “And what’s the main difference between eccentric and concentric?"

"Eccentric lengthens the muscle under tension. Concentric shortens it."

“Exactly, so when I lift up my textbook, you can see where the muscle shortens to generate force, and when I put the textbook back down, the muscle lengths while still applying force” Fuma dropped the textbook. “Next, I’ll do a movement, and you tell me which muscles are engaged”

Kei nodded, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. “Let’s go”

Fuma curled his arm, making a slow, deliberate movement.

"Biceps brachii, brachialis, brachioradialis," Kei recited easily.

“And this?” Fuma slowly lifted his arm out to the side. 

“Deltoid - specifically the middle fibers. Supraspinatus starts the movement” Kei pretended to yawn. 

Fuma got up out of his seat and adjusted his stance before slowly lowering himself into a squat.

“Quadriceps - rectus femoris, vastus medialis, lateralis, and intermedius. Gluteus maximus. Hamstrings assist during the upward phase." Kei huffed out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, arms folding across his chest. "Fuma, these are too easy."

Fuma frowned. "What do you mean, ‘too easy’?"

“Do like, a handstand, or something”

“I’m not doing a handstand in the library”

“You’re no fun” Kei scoffed, getting up from his chair and coming closer anyways. 

Fuma did a push-up next, palms planted firmly on the carpet, core tight and arms bending as he lowered himself into the perfect form. Kei was kneeling beside him, watching way too closely as Fuma pushed himself back up, then lowered and repeated. 

One.

Two.

Three.

The motion was automatic, his muscles engaging the way they always did. But he nearly lost count when he felt slightly cold fingers trail lightly over his biceps. 

"What are you doing?" he gritted out, not looking up.

"Studying," Kei said innocently, his fingertips pressing lightly against Fuma’s forearm as he moved. "Trying to see which muscles are working."

Fuma gritted his teeth, pushing up again. It’s for science. It’s for science. It’s for science.

Four.

Kei’s touch shifted, sliding along his triceps. "Hmm. Seems like your triceps are really engaged."

Fuma swallowed, refusing to react. Kei was messing with him. He had to be.

Five.

Then, Kei’s fingers ghosted over his shoulders.

"Delts are looking good too," He mused, tapping lightly over the muscle, voice deceptively casual.

Six.

Kei shifted again, brushing along his back now, fingers pressing gently into his shoulder blades. "Back’s working hard too," 

Fuma clenched his jaw, pushing up one last time before sitting back on his knees, exhaling sharply.

"Okay," he muttered, too fast, too rough. "That’s enough."

Kei tilted his head, amused. "Why? It was working, wasn’t it?"

Fuma shot him a glare, wiping his hands on his thighs. "I hate you."

Kei grinned. "You shouldn’t lie to yourself like that."

“Go sit down.”

Kei let out a low chuckle, the sound too pleased. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say, Coach."

The older alpha stood, dusting off his sweats before lazily strolling back to his chair, dropping into it with an obnoxiously relaxed posture. Fuma took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his heart rate before he sat down too. He grabbed his pen, flipped open his notes, and forced his eyes onto the page. “Explain the force-velocity relationship in skeletal muscle contraction."

Kei sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Higher velocity contractions have less force because the muscle fibers don’t have enough time to generate tension. Slower contractions allow for more force because the muscle has more time to engage."

The two of them continued to study together, meeting up at different places around campus - sometimes in the library, other times in a quiet coffee shop, and occasionally in one of their apartments when they were too lazy to go out anywhere. Fuma preferred his place, mostly because Kei’s apartment was in the same building as a bunch of his teammates, which meant constant distractions from people always knocking on the door seeing if Kei wanted to hang out. Kei, of course, had zero objections to making himself at home in Fuma’s space.

The younger alpha’s apartment was nothing special. It was small, tucked away on a quieter street of the city but still close enough to campus for convenience. The living room was the first room you walked into with a worn but comfortable couch that had clearly seen its fair share of lazy evenings. It was nestled against one wall, facing the TV, where Fuma often spent his downtime. A large gaming console sat underneath the TV, surrounded by various games stacked haphazardly on a shelf, some of them neatly organized, others in a more chaotic arrangement with a few controllers laying scattered in front of the shelf. The TV itself was a decent size, not too big but clearly one of the more expensive purchases the alpha made decorating. There were even a few pieces of sports equipment - dumbbells and a jump rope - tucked in the corner.

The floor was covered with a plush rug that had been a gift from his mother, but the real charm of the room came from the bookshelf. It was crammed full of textbooks on kinesiology, fitness magazines, and countless mangas. 

The kitchen was small and open; a few containers of protein powder were pushed to the back of the counter along with a handful of different vitamin bottles. A small dining table, also used for random assignments or school notes, was positioned next to the window, where Fuma sometimes enjoyed a meal while watching the world go by.

One evening, after a long day of classes, they were both sprawled out on the floor of Fuma’s living room, books and notes scattered around them. Fuma was lying on his stomach, scribbling answers into his notebook, while Kei sat cross-legged beside him, flipping through a textbook. It was well past midnight, and their study session had already dragged on longer than expected but their first mid-term was tomorrow, and they wanted to make sure they had as much as possible memorized. 

"Alright," Kei said, tapping his pen against his knee. "Time for one last quiz and we’ll stop."

Fuma groaned, rolling over to his back, resting his hands under his head as he looked up at the older alpha. “Fine.”

Kei immediately flipped to a random page in his notebook. "First question, what’s the primary role of carbohydrates in athletic performance?"

"Energy source. Glycogen storage for endurance. Next." Fuma yawned, 

"Not bad. Now, what’s the difference between complete and incomplete proteins?"

"Complete proteins have all nine essential amino acids. Incomplete ones are missing at least one." Fuma resisted another yawn, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. 

"Alright, last one before you fall asleep on me. What’s the best pre-workout meal for sustained energy?"

Fuma exhaled slowly, thinking. "Something with complex carbs and protein… oatmeal with protein powder and peanut butter?"

Kei let out a long sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. "Alright, I’m done. If I read one more thing about macronutrient absorption, I’m gonna pass out right here."

Fuma, equally dead inside, groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I don’t think my brain can handle any more."

Kei stretched, his muscles shifting under his hoodie, letting out a small grunt as he reached for his phone. "Guess I should head back then."

Fuma barely lifted his head from where it was resting against the couch cushion. "Just sleep over."

"What?"

Fuma yawned, waving a lazy hand. "We have the same midterm tomorrow, might as well just head there together in the morning."

Kei considered for a second before shrugging. "Alright. I’ll take the couch."

Fuma immediately shook his head. "You’re way too tall for that thing. You’d wake up with a broken back."

Kei smirked, too tired to be obnoxious about it but still naturally irritating. "You offering me your bed, Fuma?"

Fuma rolled his eyes. "The bed’s big enough for two. We’ll just share. It’s not a big deal." 

His bed was more than big enough for their two large bodies to fit on together. Fuma hasn’t had a sleepover with a friend since high school but there was nothing wrong with two bros sharing a bed - that’s just something friends do. 

Fuma pulled off his hoodie, barely tossing it onto the chair in the corner, then flopped down onto the bed with a heavy sigh. Kei followed right after, falling into the mattress like a dead weight, arms spread out as he exhaled. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their deep, exhausted breathing, the faint hum of the heater filling the silence. Fuma cracked one eye open, turning his head slightly toward Kei, who was lying flat on his back, eyes closed, arms resting lazily by his sides.

"You alive?" Fuma muttered.

Kei groaned. "Barely."

Fuma snorted, shifting just enough to stretch his legs out under the blanket. "Should we at least brush our teeth or something?"

Kei let out a slow, tired sigh. "No."

"Yeah, okay." Fuma shut his eyes again.

Neither of them moved for a solid minute. Then Kei mumbled, "Lights?"

Fuma forced himself to lift an arm, blindly reaching for the bedside lamp. After three failed attempts, he managed to flick it off.

The shrill beep-beep-beep of an alarm shattered the quiet stillness of the room. Fuma groaned, barely conscious, and reached out blindly, smacking at whatever was within arm’s reach to shut it off. Unfortunately, his hand hit something solid and warm.

There was a muffled grunt, followed by a low, groggy voice. "Ow, what the fuck?"

Fuma blinked his eyes open just enough to register the situation. Oh right, Kei was still next to him. And not only that, but their legs were tangled together. One of his thighs was slotted between Kei’s, and Kei’s long legs had somehow wrapped themselves around his during the night. Their bodies were too close; the blankets twisted around them like they had been fighting for space in their sleep and somehow lost.

"Turn off your fucking alarm," Kei grumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

Fuma frantically reached for his phone, swiping at the screen until the blaring noise cut off, leaving them in silence again. Kei was still half-asleep, face buried slightly in the pillow, hair a mess of dark strands against the sheets. His breathing was deep, slow, completely unbothered by the fact that they were tangled up together like this.

The younger alpha carefully - very carefully - started untangling himself, trying not to disturb Kei. But the moment he shifted, Kei let out a sleepy grunt and his sleep-heavy eyes blinked open.

"Morning, sleep well?" he said, his voice low, rough from sleep, way too relaxed for a guy who had just woken up wrapped around another alpha. 

Fuma grabbed his pillow and threw it directly at the other’s face. Kei just caught it mid-air, grinning.

"Shut up," Fuma muttered, dragging himself out of bed. 

And now, the two of them were going about their morning together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Fuma was in the bathroom first, splashing cold water onto his face to fully wake up. His reflection stared back at him, a little groggy. Despite only getting a couple hours of sleep, he couldn't deny that he did feel well rested, actually, it was one of the better sleeps he had in a while.  Before he could dwell on it too long, the door swung open. Kei strolled in, yawning, already pulling off his shirt as he grabbed a towel. Fuma nearly choked on air.

"The fuck?"

Kei blinked at him through half-lidded, sleep-heavy eyes. "What?"

Fuma gestured vaguely at him, annoyed for reasons he didn’t want to analyze. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Kei shrugged, completely unbothered. "Dude, we literally see each other half naked in the locker room all the time, but now you’re shy?"

Fuma scowled. "That is not the same thing."

Kei smirked. "If you say so."

Fuma grabbed his toothbrush aggressively and focused very hard on brushing his teeth instead of looking at Kei, who was now taking off his pants. The older alpha just laughed before stepping into the shower, leaving Fuma standing there, foaming at the mouth - literally and figuratively.

Fuma was already making coffee when Kei walked into the kitchen, damp hair falling over his forehead, fresh clothes lazily thrown on. The younger alpha had lent him some of his own, so Kei didn't have to write his exam in yesterday's clothes. They weren't exactly the same size, but the older alpha was making it work. The shirt was loose, not by much, but just enough that it draped differently over Kei’s lean frame, the fabric exposing some of his collarbone. The sweatpants were less successful. Since the older alpha was taller, the waistband fit fine but the pant legs were too short, leaving his ankles exposed - like he had just hit a growth spurt overnight. 

Kei smirked at him, tugging at the hem of the shirt. "You checking me out, fanboy?"

Fuma immediately scowled. "You look stupid."

Kei just chuckled, lifting the hem of his shirt up so he could pull his sweatpants down so they rested lower on his hips. Fuma caught a glimpse of tanned skin and the waistband of underwear before he quickly looked away. 

“My ankles are covered now. Better?” Kei smirked, dropping into a chair at the dining table.

"Yeah, sure," Fuma muttered, pouring some coffee.

"Aww, don’t be jealous just because I look better in your clothes than you do." Kei teased as Fuma put a cup down in front of him. "Wow, thanks. Didn’t even have to ask."

The younger alpha realized too late that he had instinctively made Kei’s coffee exactly how he liked it - cream, no sugar. He brushed it off.

"I just didn’t want you whining about not getting your caffeine."

Kei smirked but didn’t argue. They sat there for a while, coffee in hand, half-awake but comfortable, their morning routine falling into an easy rhythm.

Fuma took a bite of his bagel, flipping through his notes with one hand. "Alright, last pop quiz. What’s the primary role of electrolytes in muscle contraction?"

Kei took a slow sip of coffee before answering, too effortlessly. "Regulate nerve signaling and prevent cramping."

"Correct," Fuma muttered, chewing his food. "Alright, what vitamin helps with calcium absorption?"

Kei grabbed a piece of Fuma’s bagel and ate it without shame. "Vitamin D."

Fuma just glared at him. It felt nice sitting here with Kei. But it also felt too easy - domestic, almost. The two of them were brushing their teeth side by side, drinking coffee at the table, quizzing each other on sports nutrition while casually stealing each other’s food. It felt like a habit. Like something they’d been doing for years. It was strange. This warm, content, easy feeling that sat deep in his chest, wrapping around his ribs in a way he wasn’t used to.

Fuma had never been the type to have a best friend. Sure, he had friends - Kevin, Hyunjae, and Chan - they were all good guys. They got along, they worked out together, they went drinking, they had each other’s backs. He never had this before - never had a friend of Kei before. Not since elementary school, when friendships were easy and didn’t require effort. Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly close to someone.

But now, sitting here, watching Kei lean back in his chair, coffee in one hand, tossing out quiz questions like they weren’t about to take a test that could destroy them - Fuma thought, this must be what it’s like to have a best friend. Something warm spread through his chest, something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Maybe it was just the caffeine, or the relief of almost being done with midterms, but for once, he didn’t question it. Instead, he smirked over the rim of his mug and said, "Alright, one more question before we leave. What’s the primary function of BCAAs in muscle recovery?"

Kei finished off the rest of his coffee, looking more awake now.  "Branched-chain amino acids? Reduce muscle breakdown, promote protein synthesis."

Fuma hummed, nodding. "Alright, fine. You’re ready."

Kei grinned, nudging Fuma’s leg under the counter. "We both are."

Chapter Text

Two weeks later, midterms were finally over. The stress, the late-night study sessions, the hours spent staring at textbooks and arguing over nutrition facts - it was all done. And now it was time to celebrate.

A party had been planned the moment the exams ended - Minho’s idea, obviously. No one was surprised when he announced that they were all expected to show up, drink, and forget about the suffering they’d just endured. And Fuma, freshly relieved of academic responsibility, was actually looking forward to it.

It wasn’t the first party he’s been to with his newly integrated friend group. Once their friend groups started hanging out more, next came the constant invitations because the soccer team were always at parties. Whether it was a team celebration, a random house party, or a night out at the bars, they always had something going on. At first, Fuma wasn’t sure about it. He had never been the ‘party every weekend’ type. But then he went to one, and he actually had a lot of fun.

The first time Fuma showed up, the party had been at Juyeon’s pack apartment, where half the team and a good chunk of the kinesiology department had already gathered. The music was loud, the air thick with a mix of sweat, alcohol, and too many different scents blending together. There were alphas, betas, omegas - all packed into the space, talking, drinking, dancing. It was chaotic, but fun.

Fuma found himself enjoying it more than he expected - laughing with his friends, playing drinking games, letting the buzz of alcohol settle in his veins. Kei, of course, was in his element. The older alpha had a drink in one hand, his other slung around someone's shoulder as he moved from conversation to conversation, effortlessly fitting in wherever he went. But every time Fuma saw him, Kei always made a point to check in.

"You good?" he’d ask, nudging Fuma’s shoulder.

Fuma would nod, smirking. "You’re worse than Chan with all this mother-henning."

Kei would just grin, stealing the drink out of Fuma’s hand before taking a sip for himself.

It became routine after that. Every weekend, there was a party. Every party, Kei made sure Fuma came. And every time, he let himself enjoy it a little more.

The best nights were the ones that just happened. Like the time Minho got way too drunk, and they had to take turns dragging him home while he kept trying to freestyle rap. Fuma still had video evidence of that one. But there were other nights too, quieter ones where Fuma and Kei would just sit on a balcony after a party, the air cool against their skin, the distant hum of voices still drifting from inside. Nights where they’d talk about nothing - about training, about class, about whatever dumb thing Hyunjae did that week. Where Fuma would lean back, tipsy and warm, and realize he liked this. He liked the drinks, the parties, the way their friend groups just fit together, and he liked Kei’s company too.

He enjoyed getting to know the older alpha outside of class because he quickly found out Kei wasn’t just confident - he was loud. He laughed with his entire body, throwing his head back, shoulders shaking. His voice carried over the music, rich and deep, unrestrained. There was no careful poise, no sense of control like he had when he was leading his team or answering questions in class.

Even his teasing comments to the group felt familiar, the kind of jokes that came from a place of real affection. Even as he mocked them, it was clear he was doing it out of love, out of years of camaraderie. Fuma could hear the easy way he ribbed Minho about his competitive streak or how he made fun of Jiwoong’s over-the-top storytelling, but all of it was paired with that quiet care - the way Kei looked out for the people around him. The teasing wasn’t harsh or dismissive. It was a sign of closeness, a kind of affection that Fuma hadn’t been fully aware of until now.

Fuma would watch as Kei leaned towards Jiwoong, smirking. “You’re kinda improving. You almost looked like you were keeping up today in practice.”

Jiwoong scoffed. “Almost? I beat Juyeon in sprints.”

Juyeon rolled his eyes. “By like half a step.”

“I still beat you,” Jiwoong grinned.

Kei only chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. His amber and cedar scent curled in the air around them, steady, rich. It had a warmth to it that made Fuma’s chest feel tight. He realized he was starting to understand Kei better - not just the campus legend or the untouchable alpha everyone admired, but the guy who could laugh like that, loud and unapologetic, while still being someone you could rely on.

They all met at Jiwoong’s place first, the usual spot to pre-drink before heading out to bigger parties. The apartment was already buzzing with energy, music playing from the speakers, a few drinks passed around before they even left.

Kevin, lounging against the kitchen counter, grinned as Fuma and Kei arrived. "Look who finally decided to show up."

"Don’t start," Fuma groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "I just took an exam that nearly killed me."

"You survived," Hyunjae said, tossing him a beer. "That’s what matters."

By the time they actually made it to the Chan and Minho’s pack house, the place was already packed. The air was thick with music, laughter, the scent of alcohol and something vaguely sweet, and the crowd was a mix of students from all over campus - some athletes, some from their kinesiology program, and a whole lot of people who had no idea what they were celebrating but were here for the drinks. Tonight, with the weight of midterms off his shoulders, Fuma let himself relax. He had a drink in one hand, was laughing at one of Juyeon’s ridiculous stories, and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t thinking about school. Eventually him and Kei ended up at the beer pong table together when they heard Minho and one of his packmates, Changbin, talking way too much trash about how they were undefeated. 

Kei had grinned, looked at Fuma, and said, "Wanna shut them up?"

The first game started with Minho and Changbin full of confidence, talking shit, swearing they were untouchable. That lasted about two rounds. Kei sank the first shot effortlessly, barely even aiming, just smirking as the ball hit the cup that was dead center. Fuma followed immediately after, sinking his shot into the cup beside it like it was second nature. They moved in sync, bouncing off each other’s energy, their rhythm too smooth for two guys who had never played together before.

"Alright, alright," Minho grumbled, narrowing his eyes as he took his turn. "Lucky start."

"Lucky?" Kei said, grinning. "I don’t do lucky."

Minho’s shot bounced off the rim. Changbin followed - and missed completely. Kei and Fuma exchanged a quick glance, both fighting back a smirk. This was too easy.

By the time the last shot landed, sealing their first win, Minho threw up his hands. "Bullshit. Rematch."

Fuma smirked, grabbing his drink. "We’ll try not to embarrass you too much this time."

Minho just scowled as he rearranged the red plastic cups. 

The second game? It was almost unfair. Kei and Fuma barely even needed to communicate - they just knew what the other was going to do. Kei took a shot - made it. Fuma adjusted his stance - swished another cup.

Every time Kei lined up his aim, Fuma watched - not because he needed to, but because it was so damn natural to focus on him. The way the older alpha’s fingers held the ball, the slight shift in his wrist before he flicked it forward, the way he stepped back like he already knew he was going to make the shot. Cup after cup, Fuma and Kei stayed ahead, too coordinated for anyone to keep up with. By the time they won their second game in a row, people had started gathering to watch.

"Are they actually good?" someone muttered from the side.

"Didn’t know Fuma played," another voice chimed in.

"I don’t," Fuma said, grinning as he leaned against the table. "I just don’t lose."

Kei laughed, bumping shoulders with him. "It’s ‘cause he’s playing with me."

“Mercy, please” Changbin laughed, dragging away a protesting Minho who was still trying to demand another round. 

“Any takers?” Kei looked around the crowd, wrapping an arm around Fuma’s shoulders. “Who wants to take on 'The King'?”

“Does that make Fuma your Queen?” Jiwoong snorted and Kei shook his head. 

“Nah, he’s my loyal knight” he winked at the younger alpha. 

By the time they reached their final game of the night, the beer pong table was surrounded. Word had spread that the two alphas were undefeated, and people had gathered to watch, drinks in hand, betting shots on whether someone would finally take them down. Eventually Juyeon convinced another member of his pack, Sangyeon, to play with him. 

"You two ready to finally lose?" Juyeon smirked.

Kei just grinned, spinning a ping pong ball between his fingers. "Funny. That’s what the last three teams said."

Fuma sighed dramatically, stretching his arms over his head. "We should probably let them win, right?"

"Nah. Let’s finish this properly."

"Retire as champions?"

Kei clinked his beer against Fuma’s. "Retire as champions."

The game started tight, the two other alphas holding their own better than most teams they’d faced. They had good aim, long arms giving them an advantage over the table. For the first time, Kei and Fuma weren’t immediately ahead. But that just made it more fun. Fuma made the first clutch shot, sinking the ball effortlessly into the far-right cup. Kei followed immediately after, hitting the cup dead center.

By the time the game reached the final cup, the tension was palpable. Each team had one final cup left on the table and they both had to make it or else the other team would get redemption and keep the game in play.  The room was buzzing with anticipation.

Fuma held the last ball, rolling it between his fingers. "You wanna take the winning shot?"

"We should both take it."

"At the same time?"

Kei grinned. "At the same time."

They locked eyes and counted silently in their heads. Then, they threw. The two balls soared through the air, perfectly in sync, spinning toward the last cup and both landed at the exact same time.

Cheers, groans, shouts of disbelief filled the air. Someone slammed their drink on the table. Kevin was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Minho just looked annoyed as hell.

Juyeon threw up his hands. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

Minho shouted from the sidelines, "THEY’RE ACTUALLY CHEATING, I SWEAR."

Fuma and Kei turned to each other at the same time, adrenaline buzzing, grins wide, eyes bright with victory. The younger alpha lifted a hand, and Kei immediately slapped his palm against it - a sharp, satisfying high-five, the kind that left a slight sting in their hands and then Kei laughed, stepping in and grabbing Fuma by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight, solid hug. His arms came up automatically, wrapping around Kei’s back, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest against his own, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric of the other alpha’s shirt. And then, just as quickly as it started, they pulled apart. Kei’s grin was still wide, his energy still buzzing. He clapped Fuma on the back, his eyes shining with something unreadable.

"That’s it," Fuma declared, shaking his head. "We’re done."

Kei nodded, grabbing his drink from the table. "Retiring at the top."

"Unbeaten," Fuma added.

"Legendary."

Juyeon scowled. "You guys are never playing again"

 "No need. We already proved we’re the best." Kei smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink.

"Yeah. Let someone else have a chance." Fuma chuckled, stepping back from the table. 

Minho grumbled under his breath, but the rest of the group clapped them on the back, laughing, still hyped up from the match. And as they moved away from the table, drinks in hand, the victory was still buzzing in their veins.

The rest of the night passed in a drunken blur - more victory shots of whatever liquor they could find, laughter, the warmth of bodies pressed together in celebration. The party spilled into the early hours of the morning, the music thrumming low in the background as people slowly started disappearing into rideshares or crashing wherever they could find space. By the time Fuma and Kei realized they weren’t in any condition to make it back home, Chan was already one step ahead of them.

"Just stay here," he said, handing them both bottles of water. "Spare room’s open, but you’ll have to share a bed. It might be a bit small for the two of you"

Fuma, too drunk to care, took a long sip of water. "It’s fine, we’ll make it work."

After they stumbled upstairs to the bedroom, they found out Chan hadn’t been lying - the bed was small. Twin-sized. A pathetic excuse for a sleeping arrangement especially for two giant sized alphas, but Fuma and Kei were too far gone to care.

They shoved in beside each other, shoulders pressing together as they tried to get comfortable, limbs awkwardly tangled as they attempted to fit into the too-small space.

"Move over," Fuma grumbled.

Kei snorted. "Where?"

Fuma tried to shift, but there was literally no room. Kei was already half against the wall, and Fuma was dangerously close to falling off the edge. He sighed heavily, resigning himself to the reality that they were just going to be stuck like this. Kei, meanwhile, didn’t seem to mind at all.

"See?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and alcohol. "Not so bad."

"Just go to sleep," The younger alpha muttered, shutting his eyes. Kei hummed in response, already half-drifting.

The end of October meant the soccer team was approaching their final stretch to win as many games as possible so they could qualify for the quarterfinals. 

“Have you ever been to a soccer game?” Kei had asked one day after finishing their upper body workout together. 

“I’ve been to a few of your practices,” Fuma commented, wiping the sweat off his face with a towel. 

“I meant an actual varsity game, smartass” 

“Nope. I’ve never been to any official university sporting event”

“Why kind of kinesiology student doesn’t watch sports?”

"I watch fights," Fuma corrected. "MMA, boxing, some wrestling. But I never really got into soccer."

“Well, do you wanna?”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why would I wanna watch?” Fuma couldn’t help but giggle at the unimpressed look on Kei’s face. 

“Because I’m asking you too” Kei knocked his shoulder against the shorter boys. 

Fuma exhaled, thinking. There was no reason for him to say no. And if he was being honest, he was kind of curious to see Kei play. Watching him run around during practice was one thing, but seeing him in his actual element, the place where he’d built his reputation? That was different.

"Yeah," Fuma finally said. "Of course I’ll come."

Kei’s grin widened. "Good. Game’s this Saturday. You can sit with Chan, he always complains no one wants to watch with him."

Fuma didn’t expect the crowd to be this big. When he and Chan arrived at the field, the stands were already filling up with students, the energy buzzing even before the game had started. The sun just started to set, turning the sky a mix of pink and orange, so they both wore sweaters to keep them warm from the slight evening breeze.

"I knew you’d come through!" Chan said, grinning as they made their way to the bleachers.

Fuma shrugged, adjusting his hoodie. "Kei invited me."

Chan let out a relieved sigh. "Finally. I’ve been begging our friends to come to a game for ages. Kevin doesn’t care, and Hyunjae thinks watching soccer is a waste of time unless he’s playing in it."

They climbed the stands and found seats near the front, close enough to see the field clearly but not so close that they’d be in the middle of the louder student section. The team was already on the field warming up, running through passing drills and shooting on goal. Fuma spotted Kei instantly, not just because he was taller than most of his teammates, but because he carried himself differently. He wasn’t just on the field - he owned it. The alpha was dressed in the team’s dark blue varsity uniform, his number '9' printed across the back.

"He’s the best player on the team, right?" Fuma asked, watching as Kei effortlessly weaved through a passing drill.

Chan nodded. "Without a doubt. He’s smart, he’s strong, and he’s faster than anyone else on the field. That’s why he’s the captain."

Fuma hummed in approval, watching as Kei took a shot at goal - and nailed it.

"Yeah, I can see that."

As soon as the whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, the energy on the field shifted. The other team was strong - Fuma could tell that much from the way they controlled the ball, the way they moved together in tight formations - but Kei’s team had something they didn’t. They had him. Fuma watched, fascinated, as the alpha commanded the field. He wasn’t just a good player - he was a leader. Every pass, every sprint, every play, he was everywhere. Directing his teammates, making split-second decisions, moving like he already knew what was going to happen before it did. It was no wonder that everyone in school always called him 'The King'.

"See?" Chan said, nudging Fuma. "I told you he was good."

Fuma didn’t respond, too focused on the game.

Twenty minutes in, the opposing team managed to break through the defense, one of their strikers making a beeline for the goal. For a moment, Fuma thought they had a clear shot. But Kei was already moving. He sprinted across the field - faster than anyone else - and reached the striker just in time to block the shot. His foot met the ball first, cutting off the angle, sending it ricocheting out of bounds. The crowd erupted in cheers and Fuma exhaled, feeling a surprising rush of adrenaline. Damn .

"How the hell is he that fast?" Fuma muttered, watching as Kei jogged back into position, his chest rising and falling steadily. 

By halftime, the score was still 0-0. Both teams were holding strong, but Fuma could tell Kei was frustrated. When the team gathered together at the bench to listen to their coach, the older alpha had that sharp look in his eyes, the one he always got when he needed to push himself further. Fuma had seen it countless times when they were in the gym together.  And when the second half started, that’s exactly what he did. The moment their team gained possession, Kei went on the attack. He dribbled past two defenders with ridiculous ease, his footwork fast and controlled. His teammates followed his lead, opening up space as he cut through the field. Then, a perfect cross, which Jiwoong met with a header, sending the black and white ball flying into the net. 

Chan jumped to his feet, cheering. "Finally!"

Fuma found himself clapping, impressed. Kei was the first one to reach Jiwoong, grabbing him by the shoulders with a grin before the rest of the team swarmed in, celebrating.

The game ended with a 1-0 victory, and the energy in the stadium was electric. Students cheered as the team did their customary victory lap, clapping and waving to the crowd before shaking hands with the opposite team and heading off the field toward the locker rooms.

"See?" Chan grinned, nudging Fuma as they made their way toward the team entrance. "Told you he was insane."

Fuma huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah. You weren’t exaggerating."

Chan looked smug. "So? Did we just convert you into a soccer fan?"

Fuma playfully rolled his eyes. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

Chan laughed, leading the way toward the side of the stadium where the team’s locker room was. Most of the crowd had already started filtering out, but a handful of students lingered, waiting to congratulate their friends or flirt with the players as they came out.

Fuma wasn’t sure why he was waiting. Kei had invited him, yeah, but now that the game was over, maybe that was it? Maybe the other alpha would just go off to celebrate with his team, and Fuma would go back to his usual routine.

"Minho should be out soon," Chan said, checking his phone. "Kei too."

As if on cue, the locker room door swung open, and a few of the players stepped out. Jiwoong was first, still slightly damp from his post-game shower, his hair pushed back as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Juyeon followed close behind, stretching out his arms as he joked with another teammate, and then came Kei. The alpha was out of his uniform and back into jeans, t-shirt and a stylish jacket on top - officially transformed from superstar, Captain Kei and back to Fuma’s best friend Kei. 

Kei scanned the small crowd waiting outside, his sharp gaze landing on Fuma almost instantly, smiling at the sight of the younger alpha. 

"Yo," The captain called, walking over.

Fuma exhaled. "That was fast."

Kei huffed a quiet laugh. "You didn’t see me in the showers. Got in and out in record time, never touched myself faster."

Chan made a face. "Please never say that sentence again."

“I just meant washing myself, perv. What were you thinking of?”

Just then, the door swung open again, and Minho finally emerged, hair still damp as he tugged his hoodie over his head. He spotted Chan immediately, his face softening slightly as he walked over.

"Took you long enough," Chan muttered, leaning into Minho’s side without hesitation.

Minho smirked. "You missed me?"

Chan scoffed but didn’t move away. "Maybe"

And then, suddenly, Kei was looking back at Fuma.

"So," he said, arms crossed. "What’d you think?"

"Of what?"

"The game. You did watch, right?"

"Obviously."

"And?"

Fuma hesitated for a second, then shrugged. "It was good."

"Just good?" Kei teased.

Fuma huffed a laugh. "Alright, fine. You were impressive."

"Damn right I was." Kei grinned.

"Great, now his ego’s gonna be even worse from all these compliments." Juyeon groaned.

Kei smirked but didn’t look away from Fuma. "Seriously, though. Glad you came."

Fuma nodded, feeling oddly warm at that. "Yeah. Me too."

After the game, the group made their way to ‘The Pit Stop’, a small diner on campus that was always packed after varsity matches. It was one of those places that never closed, serving everything from burgers and fries to pancakes and milkshakes at all hours of the night. Fuma had never been here before but when Kei asked him to tag along, how could he refuse?

The inside of the diner was already full of students - some from the crowd and most of the team, everyone in a mix of jerseys, sweatshirts, and casual clothes. The scent of fried food and coffee lingered in the air, blending with the overlapping voices and occasional bursts of laughter. Minho led the way, and Chan was right behind him, guiding the group toward a large booth near the back. Jiwoong and Juyeon slid in next, already arguing over what to order, which left Kei to slide into the other side, pressing himself against the wall. There was barely any space. Their shoulders immediately knocked together once Fuma sat, both of them too broad, too solid to be crammed into a small diner booth. Fuma shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, but Kei was already leaning forward, grabbing a menu.

The conversation at the table was already chaotic - Juyeon was loudly debating with Jiwoong over the best type of fries, and Minho was trying (and succeeding) to convince Chan to order for him.

“Oh god, who invited you?” Juyeon suddenly groaned as Kevin appeared at the booth, shoving his way into the booth beside his packmate. 

“I heard Chan was paying and came right away” The beta stated, grabbing a menu. 

“That offer is only for people who came to watch the game” Chan glared at his friend. 

“I was there, in the back. You just didn’t see me” Kevin sniffed, and Chan rolled his eyes with a ‘yeah, right’.

"Alright, bets," Kei announced suddenly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "Who thinks Jiwoong’s gonna eat the most tonight?"

"Hey," Jiwoong protested. "Why me?"

Kei smirked. "Because I know you, man. You burn through food like it’s air, especially after a game."

Minho nodded in agreement. "He’s got a point."

Juyeon grinned. "I dunno, I think Kevin might beat him this time."

Kevin gasped dramatically. "Are you challenging me?"

Kei leaned toward Fuma slightly, voice low. "Watch this."

Fuma barely had time to react before Kei spoke again - loudly. "Kevin, I bet you can’t finish two milkshakes and a full order of pancakes."

The beta's eyes widened. "Is that a challenge?"

"Unless you’re scared."

Kevin slammed his hand on the table. "I accept!"

Fuma shook his head at the older alpha. "You’re an instigator."

"I like seeing people suffer for my entertainment."

Juyeon groaned, side-eyeing the beta. "Kev, milkshakes? You're lactose intolerant. You're going to shit your pants"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take"

"I live with this man." Juyeon just sighed in defeat, shaking his head.

"We don’t want to hear your bitching, you chose to be in a pack with him" Minho snorted. 

Fuma just sat back, watching as the conversation continued, watching as Kei laughed too loudly at Kevin's dramatics, nudging Fuma when Juyeon made a particularly bad joke, and threw fries at Jiwoong when he tried to steal some of his drink.

“Oh shit, Kei, I totally forgot to tell you. Guess who I ran into at that health and nutrition store on Main?” Jiwoong asked between bites of his burger. 

“Who?” Kei asked, stealing an onion ring off Fuma’s plate.

“Remember that hot senior from our freshman year?”

“No way,” Kei suddenly gasped, perking up. 

“Wait, is this the guy the two of you nearly fought over?” Minho snorted. 

Fuma blinked. "Huh?" 

Kei and Jiwoong nearly fought over someone?

Jiwoong leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “It was a few years ago, back when Kei and I were freshman and still figuring out how to be smooth, which, in case you’re wondering, neither of us were.”

“I was smooth,” Kei cut in, raising an eyebrow.

Jiwoong rolled his eyes. “Sure, buddy.”

The rest of the group chuckled as Jiwoong pressed on. 

“So, we both met this alpha at separate times because he was on the varsity team while we had just made JV. I met him first, obviously, and we’d been flirting for a few weeks. Nothing serious, but there was a vibe, y’know?”

Chan hummed. “A ‘vibe’?”

“A ‘vibe,’” Jiwoong confirmed. “Then, out of nowhere, I found out Kei had also been talking to him.”

Fuma blinked again. "Kei?"

“The best part?” Jiwoong continued, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Neither of us knew about the other until we were both at the same party, trying to talk to this guy at the same time.”

“Oh my god,” Juyeon snorted.

“Oh, it gets worse,” Jiwoong assured him. “Because we were both so convinced that we had a shot - so convinced that we were the one this guy was interested in.”

Hyunjae burst out laughing. "Please tell me you two didn’t actually fight over him."

“It was close, but then we found out the guy had a girlfriend. Some omega from the dance team - man, our gaydar was so bad back then” Jiwoong snorted, causing the rest of the group to laugh. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Chan wheezed, “so you two were out there competing and this guy wasn't even single?”

“Oh, it was humiliating,” Jiwoong admitted, shaking his head. “Here we were, two young alphas thinking we were the hottest shit, and meanwhile, this guy was probably laughing at us the whole time. Probably thought we were just cute little freshman”

Hyunjae shook his head, clearly delighted by the story. “That’s rough, buddy.”

“I know, but listen - the point of this story was that I ran into him, and he remembered me”

“No way! Is he still hot?” Kei asked, jaw slightly open. 

“Does he still remember you as a lovesick puppy?” Chan teased and Jiwoong shook his head. 

“He is still hot,” the other alpha confirmed. “And he tried giving me his number but I’m a mated man now and honestly, it was kind of satisfying to be the one to reject himself this time around.”

The entire table erupted into laughter, except for Fuma. 

Nobody else seemed surprised at the fact that Kei had been interested in another alpha. Not Minho, who just shook his head like it was common knowledge. Not Chan, who just kept eating his food like the story was nothing new. Not Kevin, not Juyeon, not anyone. Because they must’ve already known. Fuma inhaled sharply, the realization hitting him. Kei liked alphas. 

He had never even considered it before. Not because he thought Kei would be the type to brag about his conquests, but because - well, because he had just assumed. Assumed Kei was like most alphas, assumed that omegas were his default preference, assumed that his selective disinterest was just because he was picky, not because he wasn’t looking at omegas at all.

How hadn’t I realized this before? His stomach twisted.

Kei was attractive. Tall, strong, confident. He was the kind of alpha that drew people in without even trying - so it only made sense that omegas were all over him. And why wouldn’t they be? Kei was a starter on the varsity soccer team, well-known on campus, effortlessly charming when he wanted to be. Of course, he was bringing omegas home every weekend. That’s what Fuma assumed, anyway.

It wasn’t like Kei ever said his sexuality outright, but he’d disappear sometimes at parties. Fuma would spot him chatting with someone - someone who fit the stereotypical looks of an alpha, but Fuma never thought much of it. Just some teammate, maybe a mutual friend. And then Kei would be gone.

The first few times, Fuma barely noticed. He wasn’t the type to track his friends' movements - what Kei did in his own time was his business. So, he never asked. He wasn’t the hookup type himself, but he wasn’t judging.

The younger alpha sat there in his seat, drink in hand, staring at the table as the conversations around him in the diner blurred into background noise. Because now that he was really thinking about it… had he ever seen Kei leave with an omega? No. Again, he had always just assumed.  And suddenly - so many little things made sense. Like when Kei had looked at him strangely when Fuma had made a joke about how omegas must throw themselves at him, or Minho’s teasing about Kei only noticing the physiques of other alphas at the gym, and how Kei always turned down interested omegas after soccer games, never once entertaining their advances. 

It shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t matter. Fuma had never been the type to judge. Some of his best friends were in same-subgender relationships - Chan and Minho were literally sitting beside him, curled up against each other like it was second nature. He had never thought twice about it before, never felt weird about it. For himself, however? That was different. That type of relationship wasn't for him. 

Fuma had always just known that one day, he would find a nice omega, settle down, and start a family - just like his parents wanted. It was what was expected. What was 'normal'. What every conversation at home had been about. "One day, you’ll find a sweet omega, and you’ll take care of them, just like we raised you to." "An alpha needs an omega, Fuma. That’s how it’s always been." His parents would always tell him. 

Fuma sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. How oblivious could he be?

It wasn’t even about the fact that Kei was into alphas. It was about the fact that Fuma had been so unaware, so out of the loop that he had needed Jiwoong’s old party story to finally get it. Kei wasn’t the type to brag about his sexuality, sure. But the two of them were close. Fuma had considered them friends, had spent so much time with him, had trained together, studied together, talked about so many things. And yet he had never put the pieces together.

What kind of friend was he?

After they had finished their food and the energy of the evening faded into a tired lull, Kei and Fuma walked home together. 

"You seemed surprised."

Fuma stiffened slightly. "What?"

Kei tilted his head, not looking at him directly. "Earlier. When Jiwoong told that story."

Fuma swallowed, trying to keep his voice casual. "I just - I didn’t know."

"Didn’t know what?"

Fuma shifted uncomfortably. "That you -" He stopped, trying to find the right words. "That you were into alphas."

Kei was quiet for a second. Then he let out a small chuckle. "Huh."

Fuma frowned. "What?"

Kei smirked, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just thought it was kinda obvious."

That made Fuma feel worse. It should have been obvious. And somehow, he had been the only one who hadn’t noticed.

Kei must have picked up on something in his expression because his smirk softened slightly. "You’re acting like you just found out something life changing."

Fuma sighed, gripping the railing a little tighter. "I just - I don’t know. I feel like a bad friend."

"What? Why?"

"Because I didn’t know," Fuma admitted. "I thought we were close, and I just never picked up on it. Not until tonight."

Kei studied him for a long moment, then exhaled. "Fuma."

The younger alpha didn’t look at him.

"It’s not like I made a huge deal about it," Kei said, voice even. "It’s not something I talk about all the time. You didn’t miss anything, alright?"

"Didn’t I?" Fuma felt like his thoughts were spilling out before he could catch them. "I mean, Minho knew. Jiwoong knew. Hell, even Juyeon probably knew. And I - " He let out a frustrated breath. "I didn’t."

Kei watched him for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet laugh. "You’re really stuck on this, huh?"

Fuma clenched his jaw. "It’s not like I - " He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know. I just feel stupid."

Kei’s expression softened just slightly. "You’re not stupid, Fuma."

Fuma exhaled, staring at the streetlights below. "I just… I never thought about it before. You dating another alpha, I mean."

"Why not?"

Fuma hesitated. Because it had never crossed his mind. Because he had always just assumed things went a certain way - alphas with omegas, betas somewhere in between. It was what he had been taught growing up, what his parents had always reinforced.

"I guess… I just always thought about things a certain way."

Kei nodded slightly, like he understood. "I get it."

Fuma glanced at him. "Do you?"

"Yeah. I do."

They continued to walk in silence for a moment, the sounds of the city humming below them.

“You’re not a bad friend, Fuma. I promise. I don’t think it’s in your nature” Kei leaned into his friend and Fuma snorted, nodding his head. He wasn’t sure what was sitting in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a weight - but he knew it wouldn’t go away just because he ignored it. Still, he forced himself to nod.

“Okay, if you say so”

Fuma was determined. If Kei didn’t care that Fuma had been completely oblivious to his preferences, then fine - but that didn’t mean Fuma couldn’t make up for it in his own way. And if Kei was into alphas? Then Fuma was going to be the best damn wingman this university has ever seen.

It started the next time their friend group went out - just drinks at a bar near campus, nothing wild. The place was packed with students, music thrumming low in the background, a mixture of different scents blending in the air, everyone packed together in the dimly lit space. Fuma sat beside Kei at their usual table, eyes scanning the room. And then - target acquired. He nudged Kei’s arm.

"What about that one?"

Kei raised a brow, following his gaze. Across the room, a broad-shouldered alpha was standing near the bar, laughing with his friends, his fitted shirt stretched perfectly across his chest.

Kei snorted. "Too tall."

Fuma frowned. "He’s too tall?"

Kei just shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. Fuma huffed but let it go, until a few minutes later, when he tried again. "Okay, what about that one?"

This time, he motioned toward an alpha leaning against the wall near the dance floor. He was tall - but not too tall, muscular, with sharp features and an air of confidence.

Kei barely glanced at him before shaking his head. "Too cocky."

Fuma squinted. "You got all that from one look?"

Kei smirked. "Call it instinct."

Fuma rolled his eyes but didn’t give up. He kept pointing out alphas all night.

A rugged-looking guy near the pool table? "I’m not into bad boys.” An artsy looking one who had just come off the dance floor? "Doesn’t seem my style.” A quiet, serious one at the bar sipping his drink? "Too broody. " Fuma was losing his mind.

He turned to Kei, exasperated. "Okay, what the hell is your type then?"

Kei considered for a moment, his expression shifting from teasing to something almost thoughtful. Then he just shrugged. "Someone strong. Someone who doesn’t act like they’re better than everyone else just because they’re an alpha."

Fuma’s expression went serious as he listened, nodding. "Okay, that makes sense."

Kei took another sip of his drink before adding, "Someone tall, but not taller than me. Built, maybe even bulky. And he’s gotta be friendly, someone who can laugh at all my jokes"

"That’s… really specific." Fuma frowned but started making a mental note to start keeping an eye out for alphas that fit that description.

The older alpha exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. Fuma had no idea what was so funny. Kei deserved someone who fit his type perfectly. If that’s what Kei wanted, then Fuma would find him the perfect match. 

The younger alpha had been three drinks in, sitting at one of their usual spots, when he noticed it again. Kei was standing near the bathrooms, talking to some guy. Tall. Muscular. Definitely an alpha.

Fuma watched, not really thinking anything of it, barely even processing what he was looking at. Just another night. Just another Kei disappears and does whatever Kei does. So, when the older alpha caught his eye from across the room, Fuma wasn’t expecting it. Kei tilted his head slightly, like he was considering something. And then, instead of walking off with the guy like Fuma expected – Kei walked towards him instead.

Fuma frowned. "You done already?"

Kei smirked, leaning against the table. "What, were you waiting for me?"

Fuma scoffed, taking another sip of his drink. "No, but I figured you'd be off somewhere by now."

Kei raised a brow. "Somewhere?"

Fuma waved a hand lazily. "You know. Gone. Hooking up with some alpha or whatever."

Fuma didn’t notice the way the older alpha's expression shifted - just barely, just for a second before he burst out laughing. 

Fuma frowned, confused. "What?"

Kei smirked, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just... Is that what you think I do?"

Fuma rolled his eyes. "It’s what you do."

Kei hummed, still smirking, but he didn’t deny it.

Eventually the rest of their friends came back to the table, fresh drinks in their hands. 

At one point, Kevin slung an arm around Kei’s shoulders, pulling him in. “Alright, we need to talk about something serious.”

Kei raised a brow. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Fuma.”

Fuma blinked, suddenly the center of attention. “...What?”

“You work out with Kei now,” Kevin said, nodding toward him. “You have to tell us - is he actually as strong as he acts? Or is it all aesthetics”

How was he supposed to sum up what working out with Kei was like? It was intense, competitive, constantly bordering on too much. Fuma hesitated, caught between the truth and the smirk slowly forming on Kei’s face.

"Uh… he’s got really good stamina."

The entire table exploded into laughter. Juyeon choked on his drink, Hyunjae laughed so hard he nearly tipped over, and Jiwoong just covered his mouth, eyes wide with glee.

“Oh my god,” Kevin wheezed. “You can’t just say that, man.”

Fuma felt his ears burn as realization hit him. Shit. That sounded bad.

"Wow," Hyunjae gasped between laughs. "Good to know, Fuma."

"You guys must be really working hard in the gym," Minho choked out.

Kei leaned in, eyes glinting dangerously. “Stamina, huh? I like that answer.”

Fuma wanted to die.

“No -” He shook his head quickly, face burning. “That’s not what I -”

“Don’t backtrack now,” Jiwoong teased, clinking his cup against Kei’s. “We all heard it.”

Kei shot Fuma a slow, knowing grin before settling back into his seat, satisfied. Like he’d just won something.

Thankfully, the teasing didn’t last long. After a few more snickers and side glances, the conversation naturally drifted away, this time to Hyunjae loudly complaining about one of his professors.

“So, tell me why my professor suddenly decided to add an extra assignment right before midterms,” Hyunjae groaned, leaning back in his seat. “Like, hello? Some of us actually have lives.”

“No, you don’t.” Juyeon snorted, stealing a fry from Kevin’s plate.

“I could. You don’t know that.” Hyunjae scowled.

“We live together, I definitely know that”

The table laughed, and Fuma did too - or at least, he tried to. He nodded along, muttered something about professors being the worst, took a sip of his drink to make it look like he was totally engaged in the conversation. 

“…and then Minho tried to fake a stomachache to get out of the last five minutes of the run,” Jiwoong was saying, chuckling as he nudged the alpha, who groaned dramatically.

“It was survival,” Minho shot back. “Kei doesn’t let us breathe during conditioning. I swear he’d make us run during a hurricane if he could.”

Kei grinned. “Gotta build that stamina.”

“Yeah, Fuma knows all about that,” Kevin said, smirking.

Fuma blinked, heart lurching. “What?”

“Oh, you know,” Kevin drawled, waving a lazy hand. “Since you and Kei are workout buddies now.”

Fuma clenched his jaw, already regretting the way this was going but Kei propped an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he grinned at Fuma. Like he was amused by Fuma’s flustered appearance. 

Fuma exhaled, refusing to react further and turned back to the conversation, nodding along as Jiwoong started complaining about the team’s coaching schedules, making sure to look anywhere but the alpha beside him. He didn’t even dare look at Kei because he knew, he just knew, that the older alpha was still smirking.

Chapter Text

Exams before winter break came and went in a blur of caffeine overdoses, sleepless nights, and existential crises. The library became their second home, coffee their lifeline, and studying felt like a never-ending battle between survival and insanity. Kei and Fuma practically lived in the library, showing up at all hours, fueled by energy drinks and desperation.

"How many hours have we been here?" Fuma asked, staring at his notes like they were written in an ancient, unreadable language.

Kei, slumped over his laptop, barely glanced up. "I don’t know. Time isn’t real anymore."

Fuma groaned, rubbing his eyes. "We’re gonna die here."

"At least we’ll die ripped," Kei muttered, before taking a long sip of his fifth coffee of the day.

They quizzed each other in rapid-fire rounds, wrote out practice answers until their hands cramped, and at some point, Fuma started dreaming in biomechanics equations. At one point, around 2 AM on their third consecutive night of no sleep, Fuma hit a wall. Literally. He leaned forward too hard, slammed his head onto the desk, and just groaned into the surface.

Kei didn’t even blink. "That bad, huh?"

"I think I just absorbed knowledge through osmosis," Fuma muttered, face still pressed to the table.

"That’s not how osmosis works."

Fuma just flipped him off weakly.

When exam day finally arrived, it was pure survival mode. The entire campus was tense, students dragging themselves to class like soldiers heading to war. Kei and Fuma walked to their exam together, both looking like sleep-deprived zombies in the same sweatpants and hoodies that they had been wearing for three days straight.

"Final bets," Kei muttered, hands stuffed into his pockets. "How many brain cells do we have left combined?"

"Three," Fuma said without hesitation.

"Sounds about right."

They sat down, the exam started, and the next two hours were a fever dream of muscle function questions and forced memory recall. By the time it was over, Fuma just stared at his paper, mentally fried.

Kei stretched his arms, groaning. "I think I blacked out halfway through that."

"Same," Fuma muttered. "I could’ve written my grocery list instead of an answer and wouldn’t have noticed."

Kei chuckled, clapping a hand on his back. "Well, either way, we’re free."

Freedom came in the form of winter break. Winter break meant heading home - back to his parents’ house for the holidays, just like everyone else in their friend group and 95% of everyone else on campus. Final exams were over, the last of their assignments were submitted, and for the first time in months, Fuma felt like he could breathe again.

Their whole friend group had decided to spend one last night together before heading off in different directions for the holidays. They met up at Hyunjae, Juyeon and Kevin’s place, a mix of pizza boxes, half-packed suitcases, and a movie playing in the background that no one was actually watching. But at some point, Fuma found himself watching Kei more than usual. Kei, who was laughing too loud at Minho’s dumb jokes and was already making plans for when they’d all be back on campus. Kei, who - for the first time in months - wouldn’t be in Fuma’s space every day. The thought sat heavy in the younger alpha’s chest.

The next morning, everyone was heading out, duffel bags and suitcases in tow, hugging and fist-bumping their goodbyes.

"Don’t get too soft over break," Minho teased, clapping a hand on Fuma’s shoulder.

Fuma scoffed. "You either."

Hyunjae smirked. "Yeah, yeah, we’ll all pretend we’re not going to completely ignore the gym for two weeks."

Laughter rippled through the group, but as Fuma turned toward Kei, his stomach twisted weirdly.

Kei smirked, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. "Try not to miss me too much."

Fuma rolled his eyes. "In your dreams."

But Kei just grinned, and for some reason, that made it worse. They didn’t do the dramatic goodbye thing, didn’t say anything else, just a fist bump, a smirk, and then Fuma walked away.

Winter break has always been a time to recharge. To step away from campus life, reconnect with family, and enjoy the quiet familiarity of home. His parents were still happy to have him home - but there was something about the solitude of being back in his childhood room that left him feeling oddly empty. And for the most part, Fuma was glad to be back, but this year felt different. 

It wasn’t that he hated being with his parents - it was more about the space between them that had widened ever since he moved out. He didn’t mind their company in small doses, but the familiar tension of old conversations quickly resurfaced. They were pleasant enough, but the way they spoke made him feel like he was being pulled back into a life he was trying to distance himself from.

It started with their usual talk about him needing to be the "stronger, more dominant alpha" of his friend group - whatever the hell that meant. They couldn’t seem to understand that he didn’t need to assert himself in the same way they had once done. The world had shifted in his eyes - being dominant wasn’t the goal; balance, understanding, and partnership were more important. But no matter how many times he tried to explain, their words always circled back to the same tired, old beliefs. Then there was the surprise over Fuma's classes. 

“Omegas?” his mother had asked incredulously, shaking her head. “In your personal training class?” It was as if the very idea of omegas in physically intense environments didn’t sit well with her. Fuma had tried to explain that anyone, regardless of subgender, could excel in whatever they chose to pursue, but it was clear they couldn’t wrap their heads around it. 

They still saw omegas as delicate, as if they should be kept away from anything that might "strain" them, like running a few miles or lifting weights. Fuma wanted to tell them about Matthew, one of Jiwoong’s mates, who was an omega but could easily kick the ass of any alpha on campus but didn’t bother - they’d wouldn’t care. 

But perhaps the most exhausting part of his time at home was the constant barrage of questions about his love life. His parents had never let go of his past relationship, even though it had ended more than a year ago. They still mourned the breakup, as if it were a tragic event, and they would sigh deeply whenever the subject was brought up, as if they had lost a daughter, too. It irritated Fuma, but it also saddened him - his parents couldn’t seem to understand that he had moved on, and it was almost as if they still expected him to be heartbroken over his ex.

And of course, there were the constant attempts to set him up with the omega daughters of their friends. His mother would mention this one or that one, always in a hopeful tone, as though Fuma hadn’t noticed the subtle matchmaking attempts. He couldn’t blame them for trying, but it made him feel trapped, as though his life wasn’t his own to navigate.

“You know, son,” his father would begin, “back in our day, we mated young. Had kids right away. It’s natural. Don’t wait too long.” The familiar lecture always followed, and every year, it felt more suffocating. The pressure to settle down, to start a family, was always there - an expectation Fuma couldn’t live up to, nor did he feel the need to. But his parents didn’t seem to understand. They were still clinging to their idea of what Fuma’s life should look like, regardless of what he actually wanted.

By the end of the visit, Fuma found himself retreating more often into his room, spending time playing games or scrolling through his phone to distract himself from the incessant reminders of what his parents thought was best. It was clear that they loved him, but there were too many things unsaid, too many old expectations hanging in the air between them. Fuma couldn’t help but feel a little disconnected - like the space between them had grown too wide to bridge.

It was especially hard now that his sister is now living on her own. Every so often, he would hear his parents moving around downstairs, but it wasn’t the same. The house felt different without his sister’s voice echoing through the halls, her footsteps on the stairs, or the laughter that had once filled their home. He at least got to see her for Christmas when she came over in the morning with her mate and their daughter. His niece had his sister’s eyes and chubby little hands that immediately latched onto his finger when he held her.

“Here, this is for her” Fuma handed a small bag with cartoon reindeers on it to his brother-in-law and watched as they opened the bag. His sister pulled out a small white onesie with black lettering on the front that said ‘Future Gym Buddy’ on the front.

His sister let out a sharp laugh, draping the onesie over her daughter's pyjamas so it looked like she was wearing Fuma’s gift. “Okay, that’s actually really cute”

“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome” He grinned. 

But even with his sister visiting, it wasn’t like when he had his friends over - how their loud voices take up the small spaces, the countless crumbs left behind from all the snacks they’d eat and definitely no one else in his house would play his games with him. 

It wasn’t long before Fuma realized he was reaching for his phone, checking messages for no particular reason, wishing for a distraction. It was strange not seeing his friends every day, not having their usual routines. No spontaneous diner meet-ups, no late-night study sessions, no random group hangouts that weren’t planned but always happened anyway. But more than anything, Fuma missed Kei.  It had hit him on a Tuesday night. Usually, around this time, he’d be meeting Kei at the gym, going through their usual upper body routine, pushing each other harder with every rep.

The older alpha had become a steady presence in his life, and Fuma hadn’t realized just how much he'd come to rely on their time together until it was gone. It wasn’t just about the gym anymore. It was about the feeling of companionship, of being understood without needing to explain himself.

On New Years Eve, the group that had all his friends in it, was blowing up. Everybody was talking about all the fun things they were doing with their families or hometown friends. Fuma didn’t bother answering. He was stuck at a boring-ass party, wearing a stiff suit that felt like it was gonna rip the moment he reached for something, drinking shitty champagne, and pretending to care about meaningless small talk with his parents’ friends.

The party was held at some overly expensive banquet hall, all polished floors and chandeliers, filled with middle-aged couples in cocktail dresses and tuxedos. Fuma stood near the bar, nursing a drink he didn’t even want, listening to his dad’s old business friend drone on about golf or real estate or something equally boring. He wasn’t even sure. He had stopped listening ten minutes ago.

"Fuma, you’re in university now, right?" some distant family friend asked, giving him that ‘I remember when you were this tall!’ smile.

Fuma forced a polite nod. "Yeah. Kinesiology."

"Oh, that’s wonderful! What do you plan to do with that?"

Fuma took a long, painful sip of champagne. This was only the 23rd time he’s had this conversation tonight. 

"…Still figuring it out." Kill me now. 

By the time the clock hit 11:30, Fuma had run out of patience. The ballroom was buzzing with chatter and forced laughter, and around him, couples were already preparing for the midnight kiss. He was hiding away in the bathroom, finally getting a break from a conversation about stock portfolios. There was a message from Kei waiting for him - well actually, it was a photo.

Kei had sent a selfie, grinning as he leaned into a group of friends from his hometown. The setting looked casual - somebody’s living room, colorful lighting, drinks in hand, everyone laughing.

Kei: 

told u our night is better
look at this elite squad

Fuma turned toward the mirror and snapped a photo of himself. The bathroom lighting was bright, the mirror spotless, his black suit and tie sharp against his frame. His hair was styled from earlier, his face calm, unreadable - like he had walked out of a corporate takeover instead of a New Year’s Eve party. He sent it without thinking.

Fuma: 

yeah well i bet none of u look this good

Fuma barely had time to regret his decision before his phone vibrated again.

Kei: 

oh???
u really sending me thirst traps on new years eve???

Fuma froze.

What.

WHAT.

His brain short-circuited as he stared at the screen, trying to process what the hell Kei had just said. Before he could even think of a response, another message popped up.

Kei: 

damn, suit looks good on u tho
i mean it

u clean up nice, fanboy

Fuma’s soul left his body. This was fine. Everything was fine. Except for the fact that he was suddenly very aware of himself in this suit, standing alone in a bathroom, staring at his phone like a fucking idiot while Kei was off having fun, completely unbothered by the chaos he had just caused. Fuma took a deep breath, locked his phone, and walked out of the bathroom. He needed another drink.

Kei: 

u still alive or did the old people party kill u already?

Fuma took a seat at one of the tables in the corner of the room as he typed back, fresh glass of champagne in hand.

Fuma: 

barely holding on

Kei: 

i knew it

how bad is it

Fuma: 

suit and tie, shitty champagne, boring conversations

0/10 experience

Kei: 

damn u should be here

way better drinks, way better company

Fuma let his head fall back against the wall. Yeah. That was exactly where he wanted to be. With friends, with Kei - not here, in a room full of strangers he didn’t care about, just waiting for midnight to hit so he could finally go home.

Fuma: 

take a shot for me

Kei: 

i’ll take two

happy new year, fanboy

Fuma: 

happy new year

When Fuma finally saw Kei again after the holidays, it felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. The two weeks apart had felt long, and he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed him until that very moment, until Kei was right there in front of him. The alpha arrived at Fuma’s apartment bundled up in a thick jacket, the cold winter air clearly having taken its toll - his nose was a bright pink from the chill, and there was an extra layer of warmth in his eyes when he greeted Fuma at the door.

“Hey, it’s good to see you again,” Kei said with a grin, his voice muffled slightly by the scarf he had wrapped around his neck.

Fuma smiled back, but something inside him stirred, the weight of the holiday separation still lingering. Without thinking, he stepped forward, his arms instinctively wrapping around Kei, pulling him into a hug. The other alpha was caught off guard at first, but after a moment, he chuckled softly, his arms coming around Fuma’s back in return. 

"Well, this is a nice greeting," Kei giggled. There was a comfort in his touch, the simple way they settled into each other’s arms, and for Fuma, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Even the familiar amber and cedarwood smell helped get rid of the tension lingering in the younger alpha's shoulders. 

Fuma felt a rush of relief, realizing that the hug - something so simple - had been exactly what he needed. The absence of Kei had felt strange, but now that they were together again, everything seemed to fall into place. For that brief moment, Fuma didn’t feel the need to analyze his feelings or push them away. He was just happy to have Kei back in his space.

Kei pulled back slightly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “You missed me that much, huh?”

Fuma laughed, stepping back to let Kei inside. “Yeah, I guess I did,” he admitted, feeling lighter than he had in days.

The younger alpha had spent the last few hours tidying up, making sure it looked presentable, though he knew it was always a bit of a mess, but Kei never seemed to mind. The older alpha removed his coat and scarf, tossing them casually over a chair by the door. He didn’t hesitate, immediately making himself comfortable, walking into the living room like it was his second home, his scent easily blending into Fuma’s. 

“So,” Kei started, sitting down on the couch and stretching out a little, making himself at home. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

Fuma ran a hand through his hair, a bit unsure, but the warmth from Kei’s scent and presence helped him relax.

“I was thinking we could order something for dinner. I’ve got a few options in mind.” Fuma paused, glancing over at Kei, his thoughts on what they both might enjoy. "What are you in the mood for?"

Kei raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned back, making himself even more comfortable.

“I’m easy,” he said, smiling that trademark grin of his. “But I could go for some Chinese, or maybe sushi... Or pizza. You know, the classics.”

As Fuma browsed through the delivery apps, Kei settled back into the couch, taking a deep breath, as if he’d just stepped into his own home. He always had a way of making a space feel like his own, with that natural ease he carried around. Kei had that effect on people, an undeniable presence that filled any room he was in.

“So, how was visiting home?” Kei asked casually, but Fuma could hear the genuine curiosity there.

Fuma shrugged, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “It was alright. There wasn’t much to do. I only saw my sister on Christmas when she and her mate brought the baby when they came to visit and exchange gifts. How about you?”

“I spent a lot of time with my family. We visited our relatives nearby and even went snowboarding together. There was even this pretty cool ice sculpture competition my brother and I went to. But honestly, it’s nice to be back again. I missed everyone here.” He gave Fuma a sideways glance, his eyes glinting. “Especially with you.”

Fuma felt his heart skip at the alpha's words. A part of him felt relieved that the feeling of longing was mutual, the other part was embarrassed that another alpha was looking at him with that emotion in his eyes. 

"Alright, I think Chinese is the winner," Fuma cleared his throat, reaching for his phone again, trying to get back to a more comfortable rhythm and pretending like he didn’t constantly miss the older alpha too. "Let’s go with that.”

Kei nodded in agreement. “Good choice,” he said, leaning back again as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

Once dinner was ordered, they shifted to the next step of the night: picking a movie. The living room filled with the hum of the television as Fuma flicked through streaming options. He glanced over at Kei, who was still lounging on the couch, looking like he belonged there.

“You know what you want to watch?” Fuma asked, scrolling through the list of movies.

Kei shrugged, his posture lazy as he glanced over at the screen. “I’m down for anything,” he said, his voice soft and relaxed. “Something action filled. I always get too comfy when I come over and I don’t want to fall asleep before the food gets here”

Fuma laughed. “Okay. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

They spent a few minutes scrolling through options, debating between comedies and action films, before finally deciding on something neither of them had seen before. The movie was about an elite crew from the LA County Sheriff’s Department clash with a bank robbery crew as the outlaws plan a heist on the Federal Bank Reserve. 

Once the movie started, they both settled into the couch, Fuma sitting next to Kei. The space between them felt natural, but Fuma couldn’t ignore the slight buzz in his chest whenever Kei’s shoulder brushed against his. As the movie played, they watched and discussed each scene together, slipping into that comfortable routine they’d developed over the past months. Fuma found himself smiling more than usual, the laughter coming easier than it had in a while. He didn’t know why but tonight felt different in a way he couldn’t place. Maybe it was the familiarity of the evening, the simple enjoyment of being with Kei. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way Kei’s scent lingered in the air around them, mixing with his own spiced vanilla and leather, making everything feel warm and right. Whatever it was, Fuma couldn’t deny that being with Kei tonight felt like the best part of his week.

The doorbell eventually rang, pulling Fuma out of his comfortable spot on the couch. He sighed, reluctantly getting up to grab the Chinese food. Kei was still sprawled out on the couch, clearly content to wait for the food while the action movie blared on in the background, Fuma wasn’t in a rush to leave the cozy atmosphere either. 

He finally returned with the takeout, balancing the bags of food as he stepped back into the living room. Kei sat up a little, finally looking away from the screen to smile at him. They both dug in, the warm, greasy food a perfect complement to the casual atmosphere. The room felt cozy, and despite the movie playing loudly, the peace between them was unspoken. They didn’t need to talk; just sharing the meal and being in each other’s presence was enough.

After they ate, the movie continued on, loud action scenes flashing across the screen. But despite the chaos on-screen, Fuma found himself growing increasingly tired, his eyelids heavy. He tried to stay awake, but the combination of the food, the comfortable couch, and the soothing presence of his friend beside him was too much to fight.

It was odd, but every time he and Kei got together to watch a movie, they almost always ended up falling asleep. It wasn’t as if they planned it, but it seemed that their scents - Kei's warm amber and cedarwood and Fuma’s own spiced vanilla and leather - would just soothe them into a peaceful drowsiness. Maybe it was the familiarity, or maybe Fuma’s couch was just incredibly comfortable, but whatever the reason, he found himself settling into a relaxed, almost sleepy state as the movie played on.

Kei, too, seemed to be giving in. Fuma felt the older alpha’s weight shift beside him, and before he knew it, Kei’s head had gently settled on his shoulder - and Fuma didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself drift, his own head slowly nodding forward as the warmth of Kei's presence lulled him further into a peaceful daze. He let the sounds of the movie fade into the background as he fell asleep, the quiet rise and fall of Kei's breathing keeping him grounded, his head resting against Kei's as they both succumbed to the soft, sleepy lull that always seemed to follow their time together. The world around them faded, and for a moment, everything felt just right.

Fuma blinked as he slowly woke up, feeling the familiar weight of his head against the couch. The movie had long since ended, the TV now showing only the main screen in a quiet, forgotten loop. He glanced down at his phone, groaning softly when he saw the time. It had gotten late, and he hadn’t even realized he’d drifted off again. Looking beside him, Fuma saw that Kei was still sound asleep, his head resting against Fuma’s shoulder, his face barely inches from his own. The older alpha was curled up, his breathing slow and steady, looking so peaceful that Fuma didn’t have the heart to disturb him. But the position wasn’t exactly comfortable. He gently nudged Kei’s shoulder, shaking him lightly.

"Come on," Fuma muttered, "We’re gonna get sore necks if we stay like this. Do you want me to call you a cab?"

Kei groaned, his face scrunching up in a sleepy pout. "No," he muttered, voice thick with drowsiness.

Fuma couldn’t help but chuckle, but he was determined to get them moving. "Then come on," he said, trying to be gentle but firm as he nudged Kei again.

Kei sighed, rolling his eyes but still unwilling to get up. Finally, with a groan, he allowed Fuma to help him to his feet. Fuma wasn’t about to leave him there, though. He gently dragged Kei toward his bedroom, both of them still too sleepy to care much about what they were doing.

Once they were in Fuma's room, they both barely managed to make it under the covers before the exhaustion took over again. Neither of them bothered to make a proper bed on the floor; the night was already too far gone. The mattress was large enough to fit them both, and they immediately settled into its comfort, too tired to argue or even care.

Within moments, both of them were fast asleep again, the warmth of the bed and the proximity to each other making it impossible to stay awake. They drifted off in a peaceful silence, comfortable in each other's presence, barely aware of the world around them.

The next morning, Fuma woke up slowly, his eyes fluttering open as the soft light of the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. He was still curled up under the blankets, but something felt different. For a moment, he was disoriented, unsure of where he was, until his gaze shifted to the side. Kei was still asleep next to him, curled up on side, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber. His breathing was steady and calm, and he looked completely at ease. Fuma couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, his heart giving a small, inexplicable flutter. The way the older alpha looked so calm and unguarded, it made Fuma’s chest warm.

Fuma tried to shake the feeling off, telling himself it wasn’t serious. He’s never had a best friend like this before - someone he could be so comfortable with, someone who just understood. They’d spent so much time together over the past months, and it felt easy, like everything just fell into place naturally. It wasn’t like he’d had a best friend like Kei growing up. Fuma had a bunch of friends, but he’d never quite had that one person who stood by him through everything. Kei was different.

Fuma smiled softly to himself as he looked at Kei. What he felt for the older alpha had to be exactly what best friends felt for each other, right? That was the logical explanation. After all, they got along so well, they made each other laugh, and they supported each other. It was just a friendship, a deep one - nothing more, nothing less. And Fuma was perfectly content with that.

It was quite literally the same day when Kei had called Fuma - barely half an hour after he had left the younger alpha’s apartment - and said they should go to the gym again, saying something about getting rid of any extra weight they gained over the holidays. Fuma had nothing else better to do, so of course he said yes. 

Fuma exhaled slowly, adjusting his stance under the squat bar. The weight rested heavy on his shoulders, grounding him. Focus. This was his rhythm, his comfort zone - just him, his muscles burning with exertion, his breath controlled, his heartbeat steady. Kei stood beside him, arms crossed, watching with a tilt of his head.

“Not bad,” Kei said as Fuma straightened, re-racking the barbell with a controlled exhale. “You went heavier than I expected.”

Fuma grabbed his towel, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “You expected me to be weak after two weeks away?”

Kei’s grin widened, a slow, easy thing that sent something twisting in Fuma’s stomach. “Nah, not all,” he said, his eyes slowly scanning over the others body - the muscles in his arms that were swollen from use. The younger alpha’s eyes narrowed at the blatant checking out.  Before he could come up with a response, Kei stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“If you’re open to some advice. You don’t brace enough,” Kei said, fingers moving to press lightly against his upper back. “Your core’s strong, but you rely too much on your legs.” 

The older alpha’s hand was warm through the fabric of his shirt, fingers spreading lightly over the muscle, guiding without hesitation. He could feel the heat of Kei’s skin, the solid weight of his palm. He turned his head slightly, aannnddd mistake. Kei was smirking at him, eyes sharp with amusement, his face way too close.

“Problem?” Kei asked, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Fuma forced himself to exhale through his nose. “No.”

Kei stepped back, his teasing smirk still in place as he nodded toward the weights. “Then let’s go up ten pounds.”

Fuma scowled, but Kei was already adding more weight onto the bar, like he had zero doubt that Fuma could handle it.

“Unless,” Kei mused, tossing him a look over his shoulder, “it’s too much for you?”

Fuma bristled immediately. Oh, it was like that, huh?

“Load it up,” he said, rolling his shoulders back.

Kei chuckled. “That’s more like it.”

As Fuma stepped under the bar again, he could still feel the ghost of Kei’s touch against his skin, still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. And somehow, that felt heavier than the weights on his shoulders.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one giving you advice” The younger alpha sighed, unracking the bar. “Not the other way around”

Fuma dropped onto the nearest bench, his muscles burning, lungs heaving as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. His body was spent, his limbs aching from the brutal workout.  Okay, maybe he had been slacking on his workouts while he was at home but it’s not his parents didn’t have any at-home workout equipment and body-weight workouts just didn’t cut it for the younger alpha.  And yet, Kei stood in front of him, barely winded. Fuma stared, irritated but also... a little impressed.

Kei exhaled, stretching his arms above his head, his shirt riding up slightly to expose a sliver of toned abs. Not a drop of exhaustion in sight.  His lean body was built for endurance, not as bulky as Fuma’s, but undeniably strong. Fuma had trained hard for years, priding himself on his strength, his sheer ability to outlast and overpower others in the gym. But Kei? Kei moved like he wasn’t even trying.

Fuma let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “How... the hell... are you still standing?”

Kei smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Stamina.” He shot Fuma a look, all teasing confidence. “You should try working on yours.”

Fuma scoffed, taking a gulp from his water bottle before glaring at the older alpha. “My stamina’s fine.”

Kei chuckled, stepping closer until he was towering over Fuma, too close again, like always. He leaned down slightly, resting his hands on his knees, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Mm,” Kei hummed, lips curling at the edges. “I dunno, Fuma. You were panting pretty hard back there.”

Fuma glared at him. 

“I’m just saying,” Kei continued smoothly, voice dripping with amusement, “if you ever wanna build up your stamina, I can help. You know - more training sessions.”

Fuma almost choked on his water. His face heated as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Kei had to know what he was implying. There was no way that was an accident.

“I -” Fuma started, but Kei just laughed, straightening up and stretching his legs out. 

Fuma groaned, slumping back against the bench, trying to ignore the way Kei’s words made his stomach tighten.

“Pass,” he muttered.

Kei only grinned wider, tapping Fuma’s shoulder with the tip of his shoe. “You sure? I think you could handle it.”

Fuma exhaled through his nose, refusing to take the bait. Kei had been teasing him since the start of their workout, and he was so damn good at it.

Kei gave him one last smirk before tossing his towel over his shoulder. “Same time next week?”

Fuma sighed, but his lips twitched slightly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Kei winked before turning toward the locker rooms, walking away like he hadn’t just spent the last hour driving Fuma insane. And Fuma just sat there, watching him go, feeling like he’d just lost a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting.

A week later, Fuma, Kei, Juyeon, Kevin and Hyunjae made their way to their first party of the new year. It was hosted by one of the guys on Kei’s soccer team, who had a house just off-campus, and Fuma could already feel the excitement building as they walked in the chilly evening air. The cold nipped at their cheeks as they made the trek, bundled up in jackets and scarves, their breath visible in the frosty air. It wasn’t a long walk, but the contrast between the cold outside and the heat radiating from the house made it feel like they had stepped into another world when they entered.

As they pushed open the door, the warmth instantly wrapped around them. The sounds of laughter, music, and clinking glasses met their ears, and Fuma couldn’t help but smile at the sheer energy of the place. The house was already packed with people, the rooms spilling over with bodies, their movements lit by flashing party lights. The living room was full of chatter, while the kitchen had a line for the punch and snacks that had been set up. The whole house had that chaotic, electrifying atmosphere of a party in full swing.

Fuma was already feeling the buzz of the party’s energy, but he couldn’t help but notice how easily Kei blended into the crowd. He moved through the party like he belonged, always smiling, always engaging, while Fuma hung back a little, adjusting to the unfamiliar energy. He glanced around, spotting the rest of their friends in a corner, already involved in a round of beer pong. He felt a wave of excitement rush over him - this was exactly what he needed. After spending the holidays apart, reconnecting with his friends and Kei felt like the perfect way to start the new year.

Kei, ever the social one, slapped Fuma on the back with a grin. "Let’s go," he said.

They joined the group, quickly getting a round of beers in hand. The vibe was easy, everyone was already buzzed from a few drinks, and the game of beer pong was just the perfect way to kick off the night. Fuma joined in the next round, laughing with Kei and the others as they took their turns throwing ping pong balls into cups of beer. The game was chaotic, everyone talking over each other, but it was fun - uncomplicated.

As Fuma downed another beer, feeling the light buzz spreading through his system, he realized just how good he felt. It had been a while since he'd let himself relax like this, too busy with winter exams the past few weeks. The noise, the laughter, the camaraderie - it was all so familiar, yet so comforting. He glanced over at Kei, who was mid-laugh as he high-fived Minho after sinking a shot, and couldn't help but smile. It was moments like this that made everything feel right.

Tonight felt special, like the start of something new. Fuma was surrounded by friends, feeling the weight of the year lift off his shoulders. And for the first time in a while, he felt content, letting the excitement and energy of the night carry him through, without overthinking anything. The simple joy of being in the moment, of being with Kei and his friends, was exactly what he needed.

By the time Fuma made his way back from his trip to the bathroom, the alcohol was starting to hit him harder than he had realized. The warmth in his chest was spreading, his steps a little unsteady as he navigated the crowded hallway of the house. He was feeling loose, relaxed, and not quite as guarded as he usually was, his mind buzzing in a way that made him more open to everything around him. As he turned the corner, he bumped into someone - a familiar face in the sea of people. It was Chanhee, looking as pretty as ever, his eyes lighting up when he saw Fuma.

Chanhee was a omega who had pale skin, delicate features and piercing eyes. He was apart of Hyunjae, Kevin and Juyeon's pack, so Fuma had met him a bunch of times before this. 

“Fuma!” Chanhee smiled, his usual charisma filling the space between them. “How were your holidays?”

The alpha, still buzzing from the beers, smiled at the familiar omega. He was feeling friendly, caught up in the party, and wasn’t quite aware of how much his friendliness might be influenced by the alcohol in his system.

"Hey, Chanhee! It’s good to see you!" Fuma greeted, grinning widely as he accepted the omega’s hug. “My holidays were good but I'm glad to be back”

The two of them fell into an easy conversation, with Chanhee talking about some of his recent adventures and Fuma chiming in with his own stories. The laughter between them was natural, and Fuma found himself leaning more into the conversation than he had originally intended. Chanhee’s body language had become more playful, more flirtatious - his movements a little closer, his hand brushing against Fuma’s as they spoke.

Fuma didn’t notice how much closer Chanhee had gotten until the omega was practically pressed against him. The older alpha felt the wall at his back, and with nowhere to go, he couldn’t help but notice the heat rising between them. His breath hitched in his chest as Chanhee leaned in, his eyes locking with Fuma’s for just a moment - a look that seemed to convey more than words could say. Before Fuma could react, Chanhee’s lips were on his, warm and soft, and the initial surprise didn’t last long. His mind was still fuzzy, the alcohol clouding his thoughts, but the pull toward the omega felt undeniable. Without even thinking, his hands moved instinctively to Chanhee’s waist, pulling him closer. Their kiss deepened, the soft pressure of their mouths meeting sending a jolt of warmth through Fuma’s chest.

His heart was racing, but for a reason he couldn’t explain, it didn’t feel wrong. Chanhee’s floral and vanilla scent surrounded him, making his senses swirl. It was as if everything else - his lingering thoughts about Kei, the nagging thoughts in his mind - slipped away, leaving only the feeling of Chanhee’s lips and the warmth of his body against his own. 

They kissed like that for a while, the energy between them growing more heated as Chanhee’s hands moved to Fuma’s hair, tugging him closer. Fuma’s mind raced even as he let himself be swept up in the moment, his heart still pounding, but now for an entirely different reason. But a part of Fuma’s mind was still hazy, trying to piece together what was happening. It wasn’t until the kiss broke, and they both pulled away breathlessly, that Fuma’s mind started to catch up with what he’d just done. The soft thud of his heart in his chest felt loud in the sudden silence between them. He blinked, still trying to process the rapid pace of his emotions.

Chanhee looked at him with an almost smug smile, clearly satisfied by the kiss but still awaiting some reaction. Fuma, his chest tightening with a mix of excitement and confusion, didn’t know how to respond. But then, as he stood there, still feeling Chanhee’s warmth against him, Fuma’s first thought wasn’t about how good it felt to kiss the omega - it was whether Kei had noticed. Fuma nearly groaned in frustration. 

How is it that I’ve got a super hot omega, literally in my hands, and I’m still thinking about that damn alpha?

It was insane. Why was Kei still lingering in his mind, even now, when Fuma had just shared something as intimate as a kiss with someone else? Maybe it was because Kei and he had been spending so much time together lately. Maybe they were hanging out too much, and that was why Fuma couldn’t stop thinking about him. Before he could slip further into his internal panic, he felt a sudden shove from beside him, knocking Chanhee away from him. The abruptness of the interruption made him sigh, annoyed for a moment. He turned his head, expecting to see someone apologizing or perhaps ready to fight for being in the way, but instead, he was instantly wrapped in a tight hug.

“Fuma!” Jiwoong’s slurred voice called out, almost too loud in his ear, as the wasted alpha pulled him into his arms. Fuma barely had time to react before Jiwoong’s weight and enthusiasm made it impossible to escape.

“There you are! I got lost and was scared! But I have you here now so everything’s okay... ” Jiwoong continued, not noticing Fuma’s discomfort as he clung to him, all energy and no sense of personal space.

Fuma, still reeling from the kiss and the confusion in his chest, gave a short, awkward laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, Jiwoong,” he muttered, trying to peel himself away. He glanced back at Chanhee, who was now standing there, looking a bit confused by the sudden interruption.

“Hey, can you, uh... let go?” Fuma finally managed to get out, trying to balance between gently pushing Jiwoong away and not completely making a scene. But the other alpha wasn’t listening, too lost in his drunken joy to notice how Fuma was pulling away.

“Come on! Let’s get some drinks!” Jiwoong exclaimed, dragging Fuma along with him, much to the confusion of the others around them. Fuma tried to glance back at Chanhee, but his view was blocked by the crowd. Fuma sighed, his mood shifting as he was swept away from the omega. 

Fuma stayed with Jiwoong, the two of them sitting at the table in the kitchen. The alcohol had clearly gotten to the other alpha, and Fuma was concerned, trying his best to convince Jiwoong to drink some water and sober up. He didn’t want Hyunjae to get too out of control, but Jiwoong, as usual, was more interested in having fun than listening. Fuma was just about to ask Jiwoong if he needed anything when Kei appeared in the crowd, pushing his way through with that familiar easy swagger. He spotted Fuma and grinned, his eyes lighting up as he approached.

“There you are!” Kei said, putting his hands on Fuma's shoulders, giving him a playful squeeze. “I was looking for you.”

Before Fuma could respond, Jiwoong let out a loud, boisterous laugh, slurring his words. “He was too busy making out with that omega from Juyeon’s pack!” he cackled, clearly far too amused by the situation.

Fuma’s face immediately flushed, and he narrowed his eyes at Jiwoong. “Shut up,” he muttered, but Jiwoong only laughed harder, causing Fuma’s discomfort to spike.

Kei, who had been smiling in his usual relaxed manner, froze for just a moment at Hyunjae’s words. The slight pause was enough for Fuma to feel a strange twist of guilt knot in his stomach. It wasn’t like he owed Kei an explanation. After all, he was single - he could do whatever he wanted. So why did it feel like he was doing something wrong?

Kei finally gave a short laugh, clearly brushing off the comment. But Fuma noticed the flicker of something behind his eyes, an unreadable expression that made him feel nervous. He shifted uneasily, clearing his throat as he tried to change the topic.

“So, uh, what’s going on? Win anymore beer pong games?” Fuma asked, hoping to move past the awkward moment.

Kei gave him a slight, amused grin. “A few but I noticed you were taking a while so I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” He didn’t press the issue, and Fuma was grateful, though the guilt in his chest didn’t quite fade.

“Well, I’m stuck on babysitting duty now,” Fuma shrugged, trying to make light of the situation as he glanced at Jiwoong, who was still swaying slightly in his seat. 

Kei shook his head with a knowing grin. “That’s what his pack is for,” he replied, his voice laced with amusement. “I just saw one of them a moment ago...” The alpha trailed off as he scanned the room, his eyes quickly searching the crowd before he slipped away, disappearing into the mass of partygoers. When Kei returned, he was accompanied by an omega with a relaxed demeanor and an easy smile.

“Hao!” Jiwoong gasped when he saw the familiar boy, his face lighting up with recognition. Without hesitation, he threw himself into Hao’s arms, an exaggerated move that made them all laugh. 

“Thanks again, Kei,” Hao said with a grateful smile, giving the taller alpha a nod. “He escaped from Hanbin’s supervision a while ago.”

Kei snorted at that, his grin widening. “No problem.” He gave a light chuckle, clearly enjoying the situation. Then, without missing a beat, he slid his arm back around Fuma’s shoulders, pulling him just a bit closer in that casual way of his, the inside of his wrist lightly rubbing over the back of the shorter alpha’s neck. 

Fuma didn’t notice the nonchalant scenting, amber overtaking flowers, too distracted by a small flutter in his chest at the familiar gesture. Despite everything that had happened earlier and his internal turmoil, he was starting to relax at being at Kei’s side again. They watched as Hao and Jiwoong left, the alpha leaning heavily on his packmate. Fuma could help but snort in amusement at the scene. 

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let’s ditch this party. Chinese sound good?" Kei offered with a grin, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of food after all the excitement of the party.

Fuma, his stomach growling at the thought of something warm and satisfying, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, sounds perfect."

They left the party together, slipping out of the crowded house and onto the cold street. The night air was sharp, but the thought of hot, greasy Chinese takeout kept them both moving with purpose. The small corner restaurant was just a short walk away, and they picked up their order to-go, the smell of soy sauce and fried rice wafting through the bag as they made their way to Kei’s apartment. It was closer than Fuma’s place, and after a night of drinking and chaos, it felt like the better option.

Once inside Kei’s apartment, they dumped the takeout on the kitchen counter, the scent of the food filling the room. Fuma let out a contented sigh as he set himself up on the couch, already unwrapping the spring rolls and grabbing his chopsticks. Kei joined him, the two of them easily slipping into their usual routine of hanging out and enjoying the food together. The greasy food tasted even better than he expected, and Fuma found himself offering Kei his extra spring roll without thinking.

“Here,” he said, handing it over with a grin. “You can have it.”

Kei raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Are you sure? I’m not gonna turn it down.” He took the spring roll and took a bite, leaning back on the couch with a satisfied hum. “Thanks. You always know how to treat me right.”

Fuma laughed, brushing it off. “It’s just a spring roll.”

After they finished the meal, Fuma and Kei sat back with their fortune cookies, cracking them open with the same casual ease they always had. 

Fuma pulled out his fortune, reading it aloud with a teasing tone. “'A surprise is coming your way soon.' Huh. I’m excited. What about yours?”

Kei read his aloud as well, his grin widening as he spoke. “‘Your heart will be lighter tomorrow.’ Well, that sounds promising.”

The two of them exchanged amused looks, both finding the little fortunes laughable but somehow fitting after the night they’d had. They shared a quiet laugh, the warmth of the food and the ease between them making everything feel simple and right. 

Tonight, they had planned on Fuma using the air mattress, but after blowing it up, they discovered a hole in it. The realization came with a groan of frustration as they both tried to patch it up, but it was no use. And, of course, Kei hadn’t done laundry yet, so there were no spare blankets available.

“Well, this is a disaster,” Fuma said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the deflated air mattress. It seemed like the universe was against them getting a decent night’s sleep.

Kei sighed, his eyes glancing at the lone bed in the corner of the room. “I guess there’s only one option,” he said, shrugging. “We share the bed.”

Fuma had slept over at Kei’s apartment a few times before. The floor mattress was fine, but it wasn’t the same as being in a real bed. Kei only had one bed, and the couch was too short for either of them to sleep on comfortably, especially since they were both tall and built. However, it wouldn't be the first time they had shared a bed and Kei’s mattress was queen-sized.

“You sure?” Fuma asked, double checking it was okay. "I don’t want to take up too much space.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. There's plenty of room”

Fuma hesitated for a moment longer, but then he looked at Kei - at the way he was already climbing into the bed with a casual grin - and realized there wasn’t really any other choice.

“Well, if you insist,” Fuma said with a sigh, climbing into the bed next to Kei. The bed creaked under their combined weight, and for a moment, both of them just laid there, adjusting and trying to make space.

Kei, with that same laid-back attitude he always had, shrugged. “See? Not so bad, right?”

Fuma chuckled, though the feeling of Kei so close made his heart beat a little faster than usual. It was weird, but also kind of comforting, being so close to him like this. They both were on their backs, trying to get comfortable, the silence between them thick but not uncomfortable.

“Yeah, not so bad,” Fuma agreed, though there was a nervous edge to his voice that he quickly masked with a quiet laugh. “Just... don’t hog the blankets.”

Kei’s laugh was soft, and he scooted a little closer, his arm casually brushing against Fuma’s. “You’re the one who’s going to end up with your feet sticking out, not me.”

And just like that, the tension eased. They both settled in, quietly adjusting to the awkward closeness. The bed felt a little less cramped with each passing minute.

The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the heater in the background. Kei had rolled over, settling into his side of the bed, and Fuma did the same. They were close enough that their shoulders lightly pressed together, but the warmth from Kei’s body and the weight of the blankets made Fuma feel surprisingly secure. As the minutes passed, Fuma could feel the tension in his muscles start to fade. Despite the slight awkwardness that always came with sharing the bed with someone, the simple act of being so close to Kei felt oddly comforting. He had always liked Kei’s scent - amber and cedarwood, warm and earthy, and now, wrapped in the cocoon of it, Fuma could feel himself drifting off more easily.

His thoughts slowed, and the sound of Kei’s steady breathing became a lullaby of sorts, each exhale and inhale a soothing rhythm that pulled Fuma deeper into relaxation. The scent, the warmth of Kei’s body, the peaceful atmosphere - it was like nothing else mattered in that moment. It was easy to fall asleep like this, so simple, so safe.

As the hours slipped by, Fuma didn’t even realize when he finally succumbed to the weight of sleep, his body relaxed and at peace. The closeness, the quiet, and Kei’s scent all wrapped together, lulling him into a deep, comfortable sleep, unlike any he’d had in a while.

Chapter Text

The rest of Fuma’s third year had flown by in a blur of working-out, parties, and late-night study sessions. Between beating personal bests and squeezing in study breaks, it felt like time had slipped through his fingers without him even realizing it. The pressure of keeping up with everything had been overwhelming, but when it was finally over, Fuma found himself standing in the quiet of his now-empty apartment, packing up his things to return home for the summer.

His lease was up at the end of the summer, so he wasn’t in a rush to pack everything up. He’d take the essentials home with him - clothes and some personal items - and leave the rest for when he came back in the fall. There was no reason to worry about the rest of it now. His parents had already called him a few times, eager to have him home again, and Fuma couldn’t deny that he was ready for a break, even if it wasn’t the type of break he had hoped for.

Once he was back in his hometown, Fuma spent most of the summer helping his dad out around the house. They had a few projects lined up - fixing leaks, tending to the yard, cleaning the garage - small things that added up to an endless cycle of tasks. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but it kept him busy, and he didn’t mind it too much. The work was familiar, the routine easy to fall into. 

When he wasn’t fixing things around the house, he was working at the local community center, helping some of the locals with personal training sessions. It was work that kept him active, but it didn’t give him much time for himself. The days blurred together, and before he knew it, the summer was slipping by. He even barely had time to hang out with his high school friends, seeing them only a handful of times throughout the summer. They were all busy with their own lives, and it was hard to coordinate schedules, especially with Fuma’s workload. The few times they did meet up felt fleeting, like the days of their shared high school memories were becoming more distant with each passing year.

There were moments when Fuma caught himself wondering about the people he hadn’t seen much of - especially Kei. He hadn’t had a chance to spend any time with him over the summer, and he found himself missing their casual hangouts, and easy conversations. But Fuma pushed those thoughts aside, telling himself that he was just busy, that it was nothing to worry about. He had other things to focus on - like the steady rhythm of work and helping out at home.

Throughout the summer, the two alphas did stay in touch, though their conversations had changed in rhythm. Instead of the long, meaningful discussions they might have shared during late nights hanging out, most of their texting was focused mostly on gym talk, as they both continued their workouts despite the lull of summer. Fuma would message, asking if Kei had been keeping up with his routine, and more often than not, Kei would respond with something casual, admitting with a laugh that he’d been slacking off a little, but he was doing plenty of cardio thanks to all the running around he did was he was coaching kids’ soccer. 

Fuma, in turn, confessed his own shortcomings in the fitness department, but he often added a self-deprecating joke about how he’d been eating a bit too much of his mom’s homemade meals. He was constantly telling himself he'd get back on track, but the hearty comfort food was just too tempting. "Diet be damned," he'd joke, knowing full well that it would probably take more than a few weeks of balanced meals to undo the months of indulging in family recipes.

There were also the occasional random memes thrown into their messages - silly, light-hearted things that made them laugh even though they were miles apart. Fuma would sometimes catch himself grinning at his phone as Kei sent over a ridiculous meme, and he’d return the favor with one of his own. Though it was a bit of a struggle to maintain their usual rhythm with the busy lives they were living, there was still that underlying connection, even through the small, mundane texts. Every now and then, Fuma found himself looking forward to the notification from Kei, even if it was just a workout check-in or a funny picture. It was the little things, the easygoing conversations that made Fuma feel closer to him, even from afar.

Kei especially loved to send him reels on Instagram like a video of someone failing a bench press dramatically, getting stuck under the overloaded bar.

Kei:

saw this & thought of u

Fuma:

i wouldn’t let u die under a barbell

Kei:

that’s what i like to hear

i knew u were a good workout partner

Suddenly, one day, it became impossible to ignore the longing he felt for the chaos of his friend group. It was the type of missing that crept up on him, subtle at first, then growing over time. He even thought about Kei - their easy laughter, the shared workouts, and the way Kei always seemed to know how to make him feel better.

Just as he thought about how nice it would be to reconnect, Fuma’s phone buzzed as he was laying down in bed one night, scrolling through his social media. 

Kei:

hey

u awake?

Fuma:

ya 

Kei:

what r u doing next week?

Fuma, already half-asleep, frowned at his phone before responding.

Fuma: 

working, like always

why?

Kei:

come visit me

Fuma:

that’s not how jobs work

i need to book time off first

Kei:

ok

then book time off

and come stay with me for a few days

Fuma sat up a little straighter, feeling more awake now.

Fuma:

seriously?

Kei:

seriously 

you haven’t been over before

& i haven't seen you all summer 🙁

come hang out before school starts again

pls

Kei was back at his parents' house for the summer since his lease had ended near the beginning of the summer. He had said he didn’t want to pay rent when he planned on coming back to his hometown anyways, so it was just easier this way. But now Kei was inviting him to stay with him at his parents’ house. 

Fuma doesn’t think he’s had a sleepover at a friend's house since he was a kid. So, he wasn’t sure how to reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. It was just… unexpected.

Fuma: 

idk…

r ur parents ok with me staying over?

Kei:

ofc they are

they know all about u

just come

Fuma: 

...you sure?

Kei:

yes

Fuma:

fine

Kei:

good 😊 

see you soon

He hadn’t expected Kei to reach out with an offer like that, but it felt like just what he needed. Fuma set his phone down, the thought of seeing Kei again, in person, felt like a breath of fresh air. It wasn’t like he had anything major planned for the rest of the summer, and spending time with Kei, away from the routine of his family and his hometown, felt like the perfect escape.

The next evening, Fuma sat down at the dinner table with his parents, the usual hum of conversation filling the air. His mom was already bustling about, serving up food, and his dad sat at the head of the table, as always, looking over the day’s news. It was a comfortable, predictable setting - the same way all of their family meals went. Which made it easier for Fuma to casually slip in his news.

“I’m staying over at a friend’s place for a few days next week.” Fuma said casually, trying to keep his tone neutral as he picked at his plate. He could already feel his parents’ attention snap to him.

“Who is it?” His mother’s voice was quick, almost too quick, and Fuma could hear the hopeful edge in it. “Is it... one of your friends from university? An omega, perhaps?”

“No, Mom, it’s not an omega,” he said, not bothering to hide the small laugh in his voice.

His father barely looked up from his paper. “Which friend?”

“Kei,” Fuma said, keeping his voice even. “My friend from university? The one I always talk about.”

His mom paused for a moment, processing the name, before she nodded, remembering. “Ah, yes. He’s the alpha who is the captain of the soccer team?”

Fuma nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good,” his father said, finally acknowledging him. “It’ll do you good to hang out with a strong, dominant alpha like him. Build your network early.” He gave Fuma a firm nod, as if to say that this was exactly the kind of friendship Fuma needed.

Fuma resisted the urge to sigh. Of course that was what his father focused on. Not that he expected anything else. His father had always valued connections, especially among alphas - strong friendships, powerful allies, future business partners, blah, blah, blah. He didn’t see friendships as just friendships; they were investments. And if there was no benefit in a friendship, he would always tell Fuma not to waste his time.  His mother, meanwhile, was still smiling to herself, like she was pleased that Fuma was socializing with the right people.

“Well, make sure you don’t impose,” she said. “And be polite while you’re there.”

“I will,” Fuma muttered.

His father nodded in approval before turning back to his meal, the conversation already shifting away from him. And that was that. No further questions. No concerns. No hesitation. Because to them, this was just one alpha spending time with another. Nothing more.

“Oh! I almost forgot to ask, how was your date with Mrs. Sato’s daughter?” His mother gasped, her tone eager as if she expected a glowing report.

There’s no way she hasn’t already heard all the details from Mrs. Sato herself since the two of them were the masterminds behind the blind date in the first place, but Fuma decided to indulge his mother, setting down his chopsticks so he could talk to her properly. 

“It was fine, we went to that restaurant you had recommended. The food was good”

“Just fine? Was she a nice girl? Tell me about her,” she pressed, clearly not satisfied with his vague response.

Fuma thought about it for a moment, remembering the date. Mrs. Sato’s daughter was a kind omega, a sweet person who was studying at a nearby school. They had spent the evening talking over dinner, laughing at a few jokes, and exchanging pleasantries. She was nice enough, and there was nothing wrong with her at all, but there was no attraction. No spark. Nothing that made Fuma feel anything beyond polite interest.

“She’s a nice omega,” Fuma replied, his voice even. “She’s studying nearby, taking classes at the school, but…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “But there wasn’t really a connection. No chemistry, you know?”

His mother’s expression faltered for a moment, her hopes deflating slightly. She gave a soft sigh, trying to mask her disappointment, but she couldn’t hide the slight wrinkle of concern between her brows.

“I see,” she said, her voice a little softer now. “Well, sometimes these things take time.”

Fuma smiled gently at her, not wanting to upset her. “Yeah, maybe,” he said, but he knew in his heart that it just wasn’t the right fit. He wasn’t going to force something that wasn’t there.

His mother nodded, taking a sip of her wine, but Fuma could tell she was still processing what he had said. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his mother’s concern; it was just that sometimes it felt like she couldn’t let go of the idea of him finding the “perfect” omega. She meant well, but sometimes it felt suffocating, like the pressure of finding a mate would likely never go away. It almost felt like they were disappointed in their son’s inability to find a mate, like he was some loser alpha. 

The next week, after a few quiet days spent in his routine at home, Fuma packed a bag and prepared for his trip to Kei’s hometown. One of his parents’ cars was left parked in the driveway, a sedan they allowed him to take on his trip and Fuma found himself loading up his things with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. It was funny how something as simple as a few days away could bring such a rush of emotions, but he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to spending some time with Kei again.

He grabbed his phone, plugged in the address Kei sent him, and set his GPS to guide him through the journey. The drive wasn’t terribly long, but it gave Fuma time to think. The thought of reconnecting in that way made Fuma’s heart race a little, though he quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Fuma had never been to Kei’s hometown before. He’d heard about it, of course - stories from their late-night conversations, passing mentions of childhood memories, and photo’s Kei’s mom would send when the alpha was just a baby. 

The other alpha’s family home was traditional yet modern and sat on a quiet residential street. The soft hum of cicadas filled the air which was thick with the lingering heat of summer. The house itself was a two-story structure, a mix of wood and concrete, and dark tiled roofing contrasting against the light-coloured exterior walls. A small stone path led up to the entrance, flanked by carefully arranged potted plants and a few garden ornaments. The genkan was slightly elevated, a wooden overhang providing shelter above the front door. 

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he could already see Kei standing outside, casually dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, waiting for him. The sight of the other alpha, relaxed and smiling as he waited, made Fuma’s heart skip a beat. Kei’s presence was just as magnetic as ever - he looked comfortable, confident, and completely at ease.

Fuma parked the car and stepped out, stretching his legs after the drive. Kei’s smile widened when he saw him, his eyes lighting up. He barely had time to shut the door behind him before Kei was already there, crossing the yard with long legs and enveloping him in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around Fuma with warmth and ease. The hug felt like a release - like finally being able to breathe after holding his breath for too long. Kei’s arms around him felt reassuring, and Fuma could feel his body relax into the embrace.

Kei was a few inches taller than Fuma, so as they pulled into the hug, Fuma’s face pressed right into Kei’s neck. For a brief moment, everything else faded, and Fuma was acutely aware of Kei’s scent - strong and comforting. It was soothing, like a reminder of something Fuma had grown used to without even realizing it. Fuma felt it more than he smelled it, a rush of excitement against his own skin as if Kei’s emotions were as palpable as the hug itself. The older alpha just held him there for a moment longer, as if savoring the closeness himself.

“Glad you’re here, Fuma,” Kei said, his voice deep and full of genuine happiness, his grip on Fuma’s shoulders tightening before he pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. The smile on Kei’s face was genuine, his eyes soft with warmth, but there was something else there, too - a sense of relief or contentment, maybe.

“Yeah,” Fuma said, trying to keep his voice steady. His breath still a little uneven from the unexpected intimacy of the hug, but he quickly straightened himself out. “Me too.”

Kei led the way into the house, and Fuma followed, taking in the surroundings of the place that was now more familiar than he had ever expected. This was the first time he had visited Kei’s hometown, and there was something grounding about being here, with everything feeling so real. The house felt warm, lived-in, a stark contrast to the quiet of Fuma’s own home, and it felt good to be in a space where Kei had grown up, to see a part of his life outside of the university.

The moment Fuma stepped into the genkan, the cool air from inside washed over him, a sharp contrast to the lingering summer heat outside. He kicked off his shoes, automatically reaching for the neatly arranged guest slippers placed beside the entryway. The faint scent of wood, fabric softener, and something subtly homey floated through the air, settling in his chest.

The hallway opened up into the main living space, which was a blend of traditional and modern elements. A low wooden table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by neatly placed floor cushions. The tatami mats beneath them gave the space a soft, natural feel, while the walls were lined with bookshelves, framed photos, and decorative ceramics. A flat-screen TV was nestled in the corner, but it didn’t dominate the room. Instead, the space felt like it was meant for conversation, relaxation - a place where people naturally gathered. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, and Fuma noticed an oscillating floor fan placed strategically near the seating area, blowing a gentle breeze through the room.

It wasn’t overly modern or extravagant- it was lived in, warm, exactly what Fuma had imagined when he thought about a proper family home. And at the center of it all was Kei’s parents

“Fuma, dear, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you!” Kei’s mother was a tall and slim beta who stood up when she saw the two young alphas enter the room, a beaming smile on her face. She smelled like freshly baked bread, giving Fuma a sense of warmth that instantly put him at ease. 

“Yudai hasn’t been able to stop talking about you”

Fuma blinked, turning his head to look at his friend. Yudai? Kei almost looked slightly embarrassed, as a faint flush came over his cheeks. 

Fuma turned back to Mrs. Koga, smiling back at her. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he replied, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen as she gave him a warm hug, much like how Kei had greeted him.

Kei’s father, an imposing yet friendly alpha, stood up as well, his scent a rich mix of cedarwood and pine. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Fuma,” he said, his deep voice calm and welcoming. “Yudai’s told us a lot about you. Glad you could join us.”

Fuma bowed towards him, reassured by the couple’s genuine hospitality. It was clear already that Kei had grown up in an environment that nurtured his outgoing nature, surrounded by love and support from both of his parents.

“Come, have a seat,” Kei’s mother said, gesturing to the cushions where they could all sit and chat. Kei grabbed his bag from off his shoulder and said he’d bring it to his room and be right back. So, Fuma took a seat, listening to Mrs. Koga fuss over him.

“How was your drive? Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?”

“I’d love something to drink, thank you”

Just then, an alpha, who Fuma assumed was Kei’s older brother, walked into the room. He was tall, a little broader in the shoulders, his hair slightly longer and messier than his younger brother’s.

“Oh, perfect timing. Yuuji, be a dear and get Fuma some of the iced tea I just made? It’s on the counter”

Yuuji groaned dramatically, his body slouching. “I just got here!”

“Thanks dear,” Kei’s mother turned back to Fuma. “So, how’s your summer been so far?”

Yuuji returned shortly after, setting a tall glass down in front of Fuma just as Kei walked back into the room as well. 

Fuma was glad he accepted Kei’s invitation to visit. It was interesting to see his friend in a different way - not the loud confidence he had at school, not at the gym or anywhere else. Instead, it was like he thrived in being the baby of the family. Here, he was no longer one of the oldest and could relax a bit more. It was obvious in the way Kei’s mother fussed over him, barely letting him sit down before she was already setting a plate of snacks in front of him, ruffling his hair even though he was clearly too old for it. It was in the way Kei’s brother pulled him into a headlock the second he saw him, laughing as he tried to mess up Kei’s hair even more, despite their mother scolding them to be gentle. Fuma wasn’t used to it.

Even once dinner was served, it was like Mrs. Koga was on a mission to get to know Fuma as much as possible. She rested her chin in her hand, eyes warm with interest. 

“So, Fuma, tell us about yourself.”

Fuma blinked. “Uh…”

Kei, sitting beside him, nudged his knee under the table. “They mean outside of school.”

His father nodded, reaching for his drink. “Yudai says you work out together a lot.”

Fuma cleared his throat. “Yeah. We do.”

Yuuji smirked. “You keep up with him?”

Fuma frowned. “Of course I do.”

Kei snorted. “Barely.”

Fuma shot him a look, but before he could snap back, Kei’s mother laughed softly.

“You must be strong, then,” she said, nodding in approval. “I know Yudai has always been competitive with sports. It’s good he has someone to push him.”

Fuma wasn’t sure why, but… her words felt nice. Like it actually meant something that he and Kei worked out together.

“What else?” Kei’s father chimed in. “You must have other things you enjoy, right?”

The question caught him off guard because no one had ever really asked him that before. 

His parents weren’t bad people. They provided for him, made sure he was on the right track, doing what was expected, following the path laid out for him. But small things like asking about his interests, about what he liked rather than what he was supposed to be doing… that had never really been a thing in his own house. He didn’t even think they would have cared if he did tell them. Here, Kei’s parents were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer like they actually cared.

"I like to cook," he admitted, shifting slightly on his chair. "Nothing too fancy, just basic meals, but… I enjoy it."

Kei turned his head toward him, surprised. “Wait, seriously?”

Fuma gave him a look. “What, you thought I just ate protein bars all day?”

“I mean… kind of.” Kei laughed.

Kei’s mother’s eyes lit up instantly. "Oh! That’s wonderful, Fuma! What do you like to make?"

"Uh… mostly simple stuff. I like experimenting sometimes, but it’s usually things like stir-fries, rice dishes, soups."

“Oh, that’s lovely! Yudai never cooks when he comes home - he just eats whatever I make.”

“Excuse me, I cook sometimes!” Kei gasped, dramatically offended. 

“Kei, you lived off of eggs and rice for an entire semester.” Yuuji snorted. 

“I like the simple life.” Kei sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

Kei’s mother turned back to him. “So, what else?”

Fuma blinked. What else?

“What else do you like?” she asked, still so genuinely interested, like she actually wanted to know - not because it was important, not because it would prove something, but just because… she cared.

Fuma hesitated. What else did he like?

"I play games," he admitted after a second. "Mostly stuff like Pokémon, RPGs… things I can play to relax."

“You should see the stash of games he has at his apartment,” Kei added, winking at his friend.

Yuuji perked up immediately. “What’s your team?”

Fuma turned to him. "In my last run? Charizard, Garchomp, Aegislash, Jolteon, Greninja, and Umbreon."

Yuuji let out a low whistle, nodding approvingly. "Solid team.”

Kei’s mother just smiled, amused. “That’s a nice hobby. Did you grow up playing it?”

Fuma nodded, relaxing slightly. “Yeah. I had a GameBoy when I was a kid, and I got hooked. I still play sometimes when I have free time.”

Kei leaned forward. “Favorite Pokémon?”

Fuma didn’t even have to think. “Eevee.” 

“Solid choice.”

“Yours?”

Kei crossed his arms, looking way too pleased with himself. “I’ve always been a bit of a Snorlax guy myself.”

Fuma rolled his eyes. “Figures.”

Mrs. Koga chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you two have something else in common.”

For the first time in a while, he was just talking. Not about school, not about responsibilities - just about something he liked.

"Anyway," Kei said, waving a dismissive hand at Yuuji’s latest attempt at proving he was the better player, "if we’re talking about actual skill, Fuma’s the one who’s cracked at Pokémon Go."

Fuma blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Kei grinned, turning to his parents. "No joke. This guy’s like top-tier. Every time we’re walking somewhere, he’s out here taking over gyms like it’s his job."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow. "You still play that?"

Kei scoffed. "Fuma plays it religiously."

Fuma huffed, rolling his eyes. "I do not play it religiously."

Kei ignored him completely. "Dude’s got, like, maxed-out legendaries. I swear, every time I check his screen, he’s raiding some gym or hatching eggs like his life depends on it."

Mr. Koga chuckled. "Oh? Is that true, Fuma?"

Fuma rubbed the back of his neck, feeling weirdly embarrassed under his gaze. "I just play when I have time."

"Uh-huh," Kei drawled, clearly unconvinced.

Yuuji, leaning back against the wall, smirked slightly. "So, what you’re saying is… he’s better than you?"

Kei scoffed. "I never said that."

"But it’s true." Fuma laughed.

As the conversation settled, Kei straightened up, nudging Fuma with his foot under the table.

"Actually, that reminds me," the older alpha said, leaning in closer to his friend. "I gotta show you some of the good gyms around town later."

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "Gyms? You want to work out while I’m here?"

"No, you dumbass. Pokémon Go gyms. There’s a few high-level spots where people camp out for raids - thought you’d wanna check them out while you’re here."

Fuma paused. Did Kei actually think about this? Like, remembered something as stupidly niche as Fuma liking Pokémon Go and planned around it?

The younger alpha felt something warm settle in his chest but instead of acknowledging it, he just nodded, keeping his voice casual.

"Yeah, sounds fun."

Kei grinned, knocking his knee against Fuma’s. "Cool. I’ll take you later after dinner."

Once they finished eating, the air was cooler now. The lingering heat of the day finally gave way to the gentle warmth of a summer night. It was a beautiful evening, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon and painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange as Fuma and Kei walked side-by-side. The small streets near Kei’s house were quiet, the soft hum of cicadas buzzing in the background as streetlights flickered to life. 

"Alright," Kei said, pulling out his phone. "I’m telling you now, this gym is a problem."

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "How bad could it be?"

Kei shot him a deadpan look. "I’ve been trying to hold it for a week, and these people keep taking it back like ten minutes later."

Fuma pulled his phone out, opening the Pokémon Go app. “I’m glad you still play. It seems like no one is interested anymore”

“You never outgrow Pokémon.” Kei shot him a playful grin. “When it first came out, I’d spend time taking the long way home from places, even the bar, just so I get more steps in and hatch eggs quicker”

Fuma couldn’t help but laugh because he used to do the exact same thing. As they walked, the younger alpha pulled out his phone, checking his egg incubators.

"How many do you have going?" Kei asked.

"All of them."

Kei scoffed. "Of course."

They fell into a comfortable silence, occasionally checking their screens as they passed small, dimly lit storefronts and quiet residential houses. Fuma watched as his incubator count ticked lower, the familiar rush of excitement creeping in as the first egg hatched. Fuma paused, eyes flicking to the screen as the familiar white glow filled it and then, a small Charmander appeared.

Kei leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. "Not bad."

Fuma smirked. "Better than your pulls."

Kei scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"Didn’t you get, like, three Bidoofs in a row last time?"

Kei groaned loudly, dragging a hand over his face. "Don’t remind me."

The gym was near the entrance of the park, a small stone monument that had been converted into an in-game battleground. Kei gestured toward it like he was introducing Fuma to his mortal enemy.

"There it is," he muttered darkly. "The bane of my existence."

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

"That bad," Kei confirmed, already tapping into the battle screen. "I swear, some guy named ‘ThePokeMaster69’ has it rigged or something."

Fuma opened his phone, joining the fight. To his surprise, the defending Pokémon were tough - fully maxed-out Blisseys and Metagrosses, stacked with berries. It was actually… kind of impressive. But nothing he and Kei couldn’t handle.

"Alright," Fuma muttered, adjusting his grip on his phone. "Let’s take this guy down."

Kei grinned. "That’s the spirit."

Fuma had to admit, this gym battle was harder than expected. Whoever ThePokeMaster69 was, they were dedicated, stacking the gym with maxed-out tanks, feeding berries like a madman, and making them work for every single knockout. But he and Kei weren’t going down easy. Fuma tapped furiously at his screen, watching as his Garchomp landed the final hit on a Blissey that had refused to die. Then, finally , the gym turned neutral, waiting for them to claim it.

Kei, who had been ridiculously focused, let out a loud, overdramatic cheer, throwing his arms up in victory. "YES! FINALLY!"

Fuma snorted, watching as Kei immediately dropped a Pokémon into the now-empty gym, claiming it for himself. "That was way too much work."

"There," Kei said smugly, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "Justice is served."

Fuma shook his head, following suit by adding his own Pokémon next to the older alphas. "And now we wait for it to get taken back in ten minutes," he muttered.

Kei elbowed him. "Let me have this, man."

Fuma chuckled, sliding his phone away. "Fine. What now?"

Kei grinned, stepping backward toward the sidewalk. "Now we celebrate."

"With what?"

"The best ice cream in town, obviously."

The walk wasn’t long, just a few blocks from the park, down a quiet side street lined with small mom-and-pop stores, warm lights glowing softly from their signs. Fuma was still riding high from the thrill of their Pokémon Go victories, laughing at the friendly competition they'd shared. Kei seemed to be in his element, showing Fuma the town's hidden spots and sharing his local knowledge like a true guide.

They turned a corner, and there it was. It was a small, cozy storefront, nestled between a quiet bookstore and a convenience store, the kind of place that blended seamlessly into the neighborhood but still had its own charm. A fabric noren curtain with a simple hand-painted ice cream logo hung just above the entrance, fluttering slightly in the evening breeze. A small chalkboard sign stood outside the door, handwritten in neat but slightly smudged characters: Today’s Specials: Matcha & Black Sesame! The glass display case in the front window showcased rows of neatly stacked cones, colorful sprinkles, and fresh waffle bowls, the scent of toasted sugar wafting into the night air.

Kei pushed open the door, holding it for Fuma as they entered. Inside, the walls were decorated with soft pastel colors, and a small wooden menu board hung behind the counter, listing flavors in carefully handwritten calligraphy. Traditional and modern flavors sat side by side in the freezer case - hojicha, kinako, yuzu, and azuki bean right next to classic vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate. A few wooden stools lined the counter, perfect for customers who wanted to sit and chat while enjoying their dessert, but most people simply took their ice cream to go, enjoying it as they walked through the quiet streets. The omega behind the counter - probably a local college student working part-time - greeted them with a polite, slightly tired smile.

“Welcome!” She greeted them with a slight bow of her head. 

"Alright," Fuma muttered, rubbing his chin as he turned towards his older friend. "What’s your recommendation?"

Kei grinned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Can’t help you there," he said. "I’m on a mission."

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "A mission?"

"To try every flavor they have here."

"Every flavor?"

"Every. Single. One."

Fuma turned back to the display case, glancing at all the options. "How many have you tried so far?"

Kei hummed, tilting his head. "Let’s see… last time I had yuzu and kinako. Before that was sakura and azuki. Before that, I did hojicha and matcha."

"So you’ve been here, what? Three times?"

"Four. One time I doubled up."

Fuma shook his head, half amused, half impressed. "How many are left?"

Kei squinted at the board, counting under his breath. "Mmm… maybe five or six? I’m making good progress."

"That’s ridiculous."

"You only live once."

Fuma rolled his eyes. "Alright, what’s the next one on your list?"

Kei turned to the part-time worker behind the counter, who had been patiently waiting for them to make a decision.

"I’ll take black sesame," Kei said, then nudged Fuma with his elbow. "And you?"

Fuma glanced at the flavors again before sighing. "I guess I’ll try kinako."

Kei grinned. "Good choice. It tastes kinda like peanut butter, but better."

The worker scooped the ice cream into two generous cones, and the two alphas left with their orders in hand, stepping outside onto the quiet street. The glow of the ice cream shop’s hanging lanterns casting a soft light on the pavement. The warm night air mingled with the cool sweetness of the ice-cream, and Fuma took a deep breath, savoring the moment. It wasn’t just the ice cream - it was the easy feeling between him and Kei, the simplicity of being in a place that felt familiar and new at the same time.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying their ice cream. Fuma couldn’t help but laugh softly as he took a bite. The kinako was exactly as Kei had promised - just like peanut butter, but better. 

"This... this is amazing," Fuma admitted, his eyes widening in appreciation. "Okay, you were right."

Kei, looking pleased with himself, taking another lick of his own cone "I told you. Best ice cream in town. I come here whenever I need to unwind, or if I just want something to look forward to after a long day.”

Fuma nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. It was a small, perfect moment - just the two of them, hanging out in a town that felt just a little more like home now that he was here with Kei.

"Thanks for showing me this," Fuma said, his voice soft but sincere. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Kei’s smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing edge was gone from his expression. “Anytime, Fuma. Anytime.”

“How’s yours?” Fuma asked.

“It’s not bad,” Kei shrugs before glancing up at the other alpha with a mischievous grin. Without missing a beat, he held out his black sesame cone towards Fuma, offering him a bite.

Fuma felt a flush rise to his cheeks, but, to his own surprise, he leaned forward without hesitation, accepting Kei’s spoonful.

"Thanks," Fuma muttered, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest as he took the bite. The taste of black sesame - nutty, slightly earthy - coated his tongue, mixing strangely with the lingering sweetness of his own kinako ice cream.

Kei watched him closely, his eyes softening, but Fuma couldn’t quite place the look. It was a simple exchange, a bite of ice cream, but something about the moment lingered, making Fuma feel acutely aware of the closeness between them.

"Good, huh?" Kei asked, his voice low, though his teasing grin was still there.

Fuma nodded quickly, swallowing the bite. "Yeah, it’s great," he replied, though his mind felt a little foggy. 

After finishing their ice cream and chatting for a little while longer, Fuma and Kei walked back to Kei's house. The evening had been laid-back, and Fuma was starting to feel more relaxed than he had all summer. The small town, the easy banter with Kei, and the quiet of the night made it feel like the perfect getaway from his usual routine.

Once inside, Kei led the way to his childhood bedroom. The room was modest in size but not cramped - a traditional tatami-matted space with a low bed pushed up against the corner, covered in an old but well-worn navy-blue futon. The shoji paper window panels filtered in the warm glow of the streetlights outside, casting soft, familiar shadows over the walls. Kei’s bed, though clearly loved, was a twin-sized mattress that wouldn’t comfortably fit both of them. Fuma stared at the too-small bed and then at the older alpha , who stood beside it, arms crossed, looking way too smug.

“Yeah, no way we’re both fitting on that,” Fuma muttered.

Kei grinned. “What, you don’t wanna cuddle?”

Fuma shot him an unimpressed look. “I’ll take the floor.”

Kei just laughed, grabbing some extra blankets from his closet and tossing it onto the floor beside the bed. “Fine, fine. Be boring.”

After finishing setting up a few pillows and sheets, the older alpha grabbed some clothes out of his closet. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna take a quick shower before bed.”

Fuma watched as Kei walked out of the room, and for a moment, he was left alone in the quiet of the space. There was something oddly peaceful about being here, surrounded by the remnants of Kei’s childhood. Fuma could almost picture the other alpha as a younger version of himself, growing up in this room, dreaming of everything that had led him here. 

So, he took a moment to look around his friend's room. A simple wooden bookshelf stood beside the bed, still filled with textbooks, old manga volumes, and sports magazines, their spines slightly yellowed with age. A few well-loved soccer balls sat stacked in the corner, their surfaces scuffed and faded, proof of how much use they’d gotten over the years.

Near the window, a small wooden desk was pushed against the wall, and a collection of marathon medals were draped over the back of the chair. There was even a poster of the Japan National Soccer Team from a few years ago, slightly curled at the edges, still taped to the wall above the desk. The room still smelled like Kei, a mixture of his natural scent and the faint traces of cologne. It was a calming, homey feeling - something that made Fuma feel more relaxed. There were small, familiar touches throughout the room - old childhood photos on the nightstand, a few action figures tucked away on the shelf, and a stuffed bear in the corner that Fuma couldn’t help but smile at. He felt a sense of closeness to Kei, and as he changed into pyjamas, he realized how much he was beginning to appreciate the other alpha in ways he hadn’t fully understood before.

Before he got into makeshift bed, his eyes landed on a framed photo on the shelf, its edges slightly curled with age. He leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. In the photo, a younger Kei stood with his arms wrapped around another boy, their smiles wide and genuine. The boy in the photo was roughly the same age as Kei, with a similar light in his eyes. Fuma took in the sight, his heart skipping for a moment as he noticed there were several other photos scattered around the room of the two of them together, posing at different places and times. Fuma’s mind raced, wondering about the connection between the two.

Just then, Kei returned from the shower, fresh from his shower with his hair damp and wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts. He caught sight of Fuma looking at the photos, and his smile faltered for just a second, but only for a moment.

“That was my best friend,” Kei said, his voice softer than usual as he approached Fuma and noticed the photo in his hand.

Fuma’s eyes widened slightly, realizing he’d been caught. He quickly placed the photo back down on the shelf and sat up, feeling embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” he said quickly, his cheeks flushing a little from the guilt.

Kei chuckled, a soft, easy laugh. “It’s okay, Fuma,” he said as he moved to the bed, flopping down onto the mattress with a casual ease that was so typical of him. “I don’t mind.”

Fuma sat his own blankets on the floor, a slight awkwardness hanging in the air between them. “Are you two not close anymore?” he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. “Your best friend... did you lose touch or something?”

For a moment, there was silence, the soft sounds of the house settling around them. Kei didn’t immediately answer, his gaze drifting off to the side. Fuma waited patiently, unsure of whether he had crossed a boundary or not.

Kei exhaled slowly, his voice quieter when he finally spoke. “Actually, the other boy in the photos... he was my first boyfriend.” Kei’s words hung in the air, and Fuma felt the weight of them more than he expected. “We were really close back then, but... things didn’t work out between us for long.”

Fuma sat there, stunned for a moment. Boyfriend. Kei’s first boyfriend.

The word sat heavy in Fuma’s mind, unfamiliar in a way that made something deep in his chest feel off-balance. Not because he was shocked - he had already known about Kei's sexuality. But hearing it so casually, spoken like it was just another part of his past made Fuma’s fingers twitched slightly where they rested against his stomach.

Kei glanced down at him from the bed, smirking slightly. “Surprised?”

“No.” Yes. “Just didn’t expect it.”

Kei just rolled over onto his back, gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “It wasn’t that serious. We were kids, so it was mostly just holding hands and sneaking kisses after practice. But back then, I thought he was the best thing in the world.”

Fuma didn’t know why that did something to him. Maybe it was the casual way Kei said it, like it was just another story. Maybe it was the fact that Kei had loved before - had looked at someone and thought they were the best thing in the world. Maybe it was just the fact that Fuma didn’t know this about him until now.

“…So what happened?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.

Kei sighed, shifting onto his side, propping his head up on his arm. “Life, I guess. He started dating someone else. An omega, actually. I didn’t care - he was happy. We were young.”

Fuma nodded slowly, but something about it didn’t sit right with him. Not that Kei had moved on, not that it had been a fleeting first love, but just… the fact that he had one at all. Fuma had never had that. Not even close. And for some stupid, unexplainable reason, that realization left a strange, unfamiliar feeling twisting in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it meant. But as Kei yawned, stretching one more time before flopping onto his stomach, Fuma stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling like something had changed -  a new sense of closeness between them. 

“So, Yudai?” The younger alpha can’t help but ask. 

“Yudai is my actual name. Kei was just a nickname I got in high school, but it stuck, so that's just what everyone calls me. Only my parents call me Yudai” 

“Yudai ,” Fuma repeated. “I like it”

Kei was glad the lights were out so Fuma couldn't see the blush that crawled across his cheeks.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the weather was perfect. Bright blue skies, the warmth of the sun gentle instead of suffocating, and a crisp, cool breeze that carried the scent of earth and greenery. The best kind of day to go on a hike. Kei had mentioned it over breakfast, casually tossing out the idea like it was just another thing to do while Fuma was staying over. 

"Weathers supposed to be nice," He had said, stealing a piece of grilled fish from Fuma’s plate before the younger could swat his hand away. "Figured we could go on a hike."

Mrs. Koga helped them pack a lunch, tossing bento boxes, fruit, and a couple of bottles of water into a small cooler. The alphas grabbed their bags and headed to the car, driving to a nearby trail that Kei swore was the perfect spot to get some fresh air and stretch their legs.

As they pulled up to the trailhead, Fuma took a deep breath, appreciating the natural surroundings. The path was well-trodden, a mix of stone steps and packed dirt, weaving through tall cedar trees. Birds chirped lazily in the distance, and every now and then, a soft breeze rustled through the leaves, sending patches of sunlight flickering across the ground. They grabbed their bags, slinging them over their shoulders and set off. They hiked in silence for a while, their footsteps the only sound against the packed dirt and stone steps.

Kei glanced over at Fuma, his playful side coming to the surface. “Hey, you’re slowing down, Fuma. Need me to carry your bag for you?” he teased, his voice light and carefree.

“I’m not struggling.”

“Right.” Kei shot him a knowing look, eyes flickering down to Fuma’s shirt, where sweat was beginning to dampen the fabric near his collar.

Fuma glared. “Shut up.”

Kei just laughed, looking way too satisfied with himself. “Don’t worry Fanboy, I told you I’d help with your stamina”

By the time they reached the summit, Fuma’s shirt was sticking to his back, and his legs were starting to ache in that good, post-workout kind of way. The climb had been steep, sure, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. The burn in his legs was familiar, welcome, and the crisp mountain air had made it easier to keep a steady rhythm the entire way up.

The trail opened up into a clearing, revealing a small, rocky ledge that overlooked the valley below. From this height, the town looked small, its winding streets and scattered rooftops nestled between rolling green hills and sprawling fields. The mountains lined the horizon, their peaks fading into a hazy blue, and the air smelled like earth, pine, and the faintest hint of summer. The sky was wide and open, and for a second, there was nothing but the sound of the wind moving through the trees. A simple weathered wooden bench sat nearby, carved with faint names and initials left behind by hikers who had come before them.

Kei exhaled, rolling his shoulders back after dropping his backpack to the ground. “This was always my favorite trail growing up.”

Fuma glanced at him. “You used to come here a lot?”

“Yeah. My dad used to take me when I was younger. He always said hiking is the best way to enjoy nature and clear your mind at the same time.”

Fuma hummed, looking back out at the view. Maybe Kei’s dad was right.

After they both sat and admired the view for a few moments longer, Kei pulled out the neatly packed lunch his mother had prepared for them. Neither of them was surprised that she had gone all out. The second Kei opened the bag, the scent of freshly made rice, grilled fish, tamagoyaki, and vegetables filled the air. It was a full meal, not just some simple packed snacks.

Fuma huffed a laugh. “Your mom really spoils you, huh?”

Kei grinned. “Obviously. I’m the favorite.”

Fuma grabbed one of the neatly wrapped onigiri, biting into it before he could roll his eyes again. The taste was fresh, perfectly seasoned - like something made with care. He chewed slowly, glancing at Kei, who was already halfway through his first rice ball, looking completely at ease.

Kei caught him staring. “What?”

Fuma shook his head, looking back at his food. “Nothing.”

Kei smirked but didn’t press. Instead, he grabbed a piece of tamagoyaki and held it out toward Fuma.

“Try this. It’s the best part.”

Fuma hesitated for half a second before taking it straight from Kei’s chopsticks, chewing as Kei watched him expectantly.

“…Yeah,” Fuma admitted after swallowing. “It’s good.”

Kei grinned. “Told you.”

The breeze shifted around them, rustling the leaves in the trees, the warmth of the afternoon settling in as they ate without rushing, without conversation, without anything but the quiet understanding that this moment was simple and good. And Fuma was starting to realize how much he liked being here. With Kei. And everything that came with him.

Over the next few days, Fuma found himself growing increasingly fond of the time spent with Kei and his family. Somehow, Kei’s home had wrapped around him, pulling him into its warmth like he had always belonged there. Every moment felt easy, like something that had been a long time coming, even though it was only just the beginning. There was something incredibly comforting about the way Kei’s family treated him - not with formality or politeness, but with warmth and care. It felt like he was part of something genuine, something real.

It wasn’t just the way Kei’s parents had greeted him with open arms - it was how they spent their time together, like they truly wanted to be around him, not out of obligation. One afternoon, Kei’s parents took the two of them to the beach, where they spent hours walking along the shore, talking about everything and nothing at all. Fuma hadn’t expected to feel so relaxed with them, but the sun, the sound of the waves, and the simple joy of spending time together made everything feel lighter.

Kei’s mother, always observant, took them shopping another day. As they browsed through racks of clothes, she picked out a shirt she thought would look good on Fuma, pressing it into his hands with a warm smile. “This color will bring out the best in you,” she said, her tone kind but matter-of-fact, like she had known him for years instead of days. Fuma had hesitated at first, but Kei’s mom insisted, and Fuma couldn’t help but feel grateful for her thoughtfulness. She would even fuss over him like he was one of her own, always making sure he ate enough, asking about his childhood and teasing Kei about how he should be more responsible now that Fuma was around. Even Mr. Koga would make time to talk to Fuma about workouts, soccer, or random stories about Kei as a kid.

Even Yuuji had made time for them, sitting down one night to play video games with Fuma and Kei. The three of them had stayed up until the early hours, laughing and teasing each other as they competed. Fuma felt a strange sense of belonging in that moment - like he wasn’t just a guest in Kei’s life, but a part of it.

The warmth of Kei’s family was something Fuma hadn’t realized he needed. It was different from his own family, where there were always expectations - unspoken rules about what was right or expected. With Kei’s family, it was all about the present, the little moments shared without thinking too much about the future. 

It was nice, so nice that Fuma almost didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his own family, back to the weight of their expectations.  The thought of leaving the warmth of Kei’s family, the easy rhythm of their days together, made him hesitate. Part of him wanted to stay - wanted to keep the feeling of being cared for, of being part of something that felt so natural and good. But he knew he couldn’t stay forever. He would have to return to his own life, his own family, and face whatever expectations they had for him. For now, though, he tried to push those thoughts aside, choosing to savor the time he had left with Kei and his family, knowing that it was a special gift he might not get again anytime soon.

The evening of Fuma’s last night at Kei's house arrived much sooner than either of them had anticipated. A local summer matsuri was being thrown in the middle of town, so the entire family went. 

The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the rooftops as the warm evening air settled over the town as Fuma adjusted the sleeves of his yukata, feeling a little out of place in the traditional festival attire.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, glancing at Kei beside him.

Kei looked completely at ease, his dark blue yukata loosely tied, sleeves pushed up slightly, his hair a little messier than usual.

"Stop fidgeting. You look good."

Fuma rolled his eyes, ignoring the strange warmth in his chest.

Mrs. Koga clapped her hands together, beaming. "You both look so handsome! I should take a picture!"

Kei groaned. "Mom."

Yuuji, standing beside them, snickered. "Nah, let her. She needs new material for the family album."

Fuma tried not to laugh, but when Kei sent him a glare, he lost the battle, shaking his head.

"Fine," Kei sighed. "One picture. Then we’re going."

His mother grinned, quickly pulling out her phone while Kei stood beside Fuma. Yuuji leaned into the frame at the last second, making a ridiculous face just as the camera clicked.

"Perfect," their mom said happily, ignoring Kei’s frustrated groan.

"Alright," Yuuji said, slapping a hand on Fuma’s shoulder. "Let’s hit the festival before Yudai dies of embarrassment."

The streets were lively, filled with people in brightly colored yukatas, groups of friends, and families laughing together. The festival grounds were bathed in color, illuminated by the warm glow of hanging lanterns strung between wooden poles, their soft reds, oranges, and yellows flickering against the night sky. Paper streamers in bright blues and greens fluttered overhead, caught in the occasional warm breeze that carried the scent of sizzling food and sweet syrup through the air.

Lining the streets, rows of colorful banners marked each stall, their bold calligraphy announcing what was being sold - goldfish scooping, cotton candy, takoyaki, shaved ice - the words painted in thick, playful strokes on fabric that waved slightly with every passing movement. The festival-goers were just as lively, dressed in yukatas of all shades - deep indigo, soft lavender, fiery crimson - patterns of delicate cherry blossoms, swirling waves, or simple geometric designs decorating the fabric. Children weaved between the crowds, their excited giggles ringing out as they clutched prizes from game stalls, their tiny hands wrapped around plastic bags filled with water and darting goldfish.

"Man, I forgot how much fun these are." Kei grinned, watching the pups run by.

"Right?" Yuuji said, smirking. "Not too late to admit you missed home"

Kei scoffed. "I missed the food."

Fuma hummed. "Same."

Kei’s mom shook her head fondly. "You boys and your stomachs. Alright, let’s get something to eat first."

The first stall they stopped at was a yakitori stand, the sharp scent of soy sauce caramelizing over yakitori skewers mingled with the deep, greasy richness of karaage calling to them. 

Fuma took a bite, the flavor rich and perfectly charred, and let out a satisfied sigh. "Okay, yeah. This was a good idea."

Kei smirked. "Told you."

Next was taiyaki, the fish-shaped pastries filled with sweet red bean or custard. Kei handed Fuma one, his grin way too smug.

"You have to eat it from the tail first," he said.

Fuma raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It’s just the right way to eat it." Kei shrugged.

"That’s literally just a myth." Yuuji scoffed. 

"Shut up, Yuuji," Kei muttered, still watching Fuma expectantly.

Fuma, amused, bit into the tail first, chewing thoughtfully.

Kei grinned. "See? Tastes better, right?"

"Mhm, yeah totally"

The festival had a rhythm to it - an unspoken beat that pulsed through the air. The steady clack of sandals against stone pathways, the sizzle and pop of oil frying in deep metal pans, and the chatter of families and friends, punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Somewhere near the center of the festival, a taiko drum performance had begun, its deep, resonating beats thrumming through the ground, vibrating in Fuma’s chest with each rhythmic strike. And as they passed a small shrine booth, an elderly man chanted softly as he waved a bundle of fortune slips, handing them out to those eager to test their luck for the coming year. The festival stalls stretched endlessly, a mix of game booths, souvenir vendors, and more food stands than Fuma could count. When they reached the goldfish scooping stall, Kei immediately perked up.

"Alright, who’s betting on me catching the most?" Kei challenged, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for a match.

 "You suck at this, don’t you?" Fuma raised an eyebrow.

Kei placed a hand over his heart. "How dare you!"

"He does suck at this," Yuuji confirmed.

Kei huffed. "I’ll prove you both wrong."

Five minutes later, Fuma stood watching Kei fail miserably, the paper scoop collapsing instantly every time he tried to catch a fish.

"I hate this game," The older alpha muttered, glaring at the water.

Fuma, holding three goldfish in his own bag, smirked. "What was that? Proving us wrong?"

Kei grumbled. "Shut up."

Mr. Koga just laughed. "Yudai has never been patient enough for this game."

Yuuji patted his younger brother’s back. "Some things never change."

Kei and Fuma had broken off from the older alpha’s family, drifting towards some of the less popular stalls. It wasn’t intentional - they had just naturally fallen into step together, letting the night guide them through the narrow paths between booths and game stalls, the sounds of festival drums fading into the background. Then, just as they turned a corner, they passed a small, wooden shrine booth. The soft flicker of candlelight illuminated the faded red banners hanging on either side, painted with delicate kanji strokes: 運試し – Test Your Luck.

Behind the low counter, an elderly man sat quietly, hands resting on the smooth wood, his gaze calm as he watched the few festival-goers stop by. A small brass bell chimed softly as someone shook the box of fortune slips, waiting for their fate to be drawn. Kei paused mid-step, then turned to his friend.

"Wanna test our luck?"

Fuma glanced at the booth, then back at Kei. "You really believe in that stuff?"

Kei shrugged. "You never know"

Fuma sighed, but he stepped forward anyway. "Sure, let’s do it."

The elderly man behind the booth gave them a kind smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he gestured toward a small wooden box.

"Shake it well," the old man instructed, his voice low and steady. "And let the spirits decide your luck."

Kei grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, let’s see if I’m blessed or cursed."

He picked up the wooden cylinder, giving it a few strong shakes before tilting it downward. A small wooden stick slid out from a narrow opening, the end marked with a black number. The old man took the stick, scanning it briefly before pulling out a fortune slip from a corresponding drawer.

He handed it to Kei, bowing slightly. "Here is your fortune."

Fuma crossed his arms. "Well?"

Kei unfolded the slip, his smirk faltering slightly as he read it.

"Shoukyou," Kei muttered. "A small bad luck fortune."

Fuma grinned. "So, you’re cursed."

Kei scoffed, flipping the paper over like that would somehow change the result. "It’s just a little bad luck. Could be worse."

The old man chuckled, his gaze drifting to Fuma. "Would you like to test your fate as well, young man?"

Fuma hesitated, then reached for the wooden box. He shook it, listening to the soft rattle before tipping it forward, watching as a small stick slid out. The elderly man examined the number before carefully pulling out another fortune slip.

He handed it to Fuma, his expression unreadable. "Here is your fate."

Fuma unfolded it slowly.

Kei leaned in. "Well?"

"Daikichi."

Kei stared. "Great luck?"

Fuma nodded and Kei groaned, running a hand down his face. "Oh, come on."

The old man smiled knowingly. "Fortunes balance each other out. One must have bad luck so another may receive good."

Kei exhaled loudly, waving his slip in frustration. "I demand a redo."

The old man chuckled. "I’m afraid fate does not work that way."

Fuma, smirking, patted Kei’s shoulder. "Guess I’m carrying all the luck tonight."

Kei scowled. "If I trip on the way home, I’m blaming you."

Fuma just shrugged, folding his great luck fortune neatly before slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll just carry you around”

As the night continued on, the festival slowly wound down, the final event approaching - fireworks over the fields. The sky had turned a deep, endless shade of midnight blue, the moon hanging above them in a soft glow. They found a good spot near the edge of the festival grounds, where they could see the clear night sky reflected in the lake’s calm surface.

The lake stretched wide before them, its surface smooth and glass-like, perfectly mirroring the night sky above. Small lanterns floated along the water, their soft golden light flickering in delicate ripples. Fuma stood beside Kei, his goldfish bag dangling from his fingers, the hum of the festival still lingering in the background. A loud boom echoed through the air and the first firework shot up, a single streak of gold slicing through the darkness - before it exploded, a brilliant burst of crimson and silver, illuminating the sky for a breathtaking moment before fading into drifting embers.

Then another.

And another.

The crowd gasped and murmured in awe, voices blending into the steady rhythm of explosions, each one more stunning than the last. Fuma stood still, watching as the colors bled into each other, the sky constantly shifting, constantly changing as he heard Kei exhale quietly.

"It’s been a while since I’ve watched fireworks like this," Kei muttered.

Fuma turned his head slightly. "Yeah?"

Kei nodded, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "Last time was probably… high school? Maybe before that."

The firelight flickered against his face, casting warm highlights along his jawline, his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. His eyes - deep brown but reflecting every color of the fireworks above them - were fixed on the sky, his usual teasing expression replaced by something calm, almost thoughtful. Fuma swallowed, suddenly too aware of how close they were standing, their shoulders fully pressed together. He turned back toward the sky, trying to focus on the colors instead of the warmth at his side.

A rapid series of white streaks shot upward, not one, not two, but dozens, soaring high into the night like shooting stars racing toward the heavens before all exploding at once. The sky became a riot of gold, red, blue, and silver, overlapping in stunning patterns, the explosions nearly deafening, the world bathed in blinding color.

The lake, caught in the madness, reflected the entire display like a mirror, making it feel like they were standing between two universes - one above, one below. Fuma barely heard the cheers of the crowd over the pounding in his ears. He just stared, letting the sparkling lights consume him.

Then, one last firework. A single, massive golden burst, its sparks spilling downward like a weeping willow, flickering slowly, softly until finally, everything faded. The sky, once more, empty.

The festival had ended, but the night still clung to them, warm and lingering, as Kei and Fuma made their way back toward the house. The streets were quieter now, only a few groups of festival-goers still walking home, their voices hushed, their laughter softer. The scent of grilled food and summer air still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of gunpowder from the fireworks.

In Fuma’s hand, the plastic bag containing the goldfish he had won swayed slightly, the little orange shapes darting around in the water with every step he took. Kei walked beside him, yukata sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his own goldfish nowhere to be seen since he had failed miserably at catching even one.

"You really had to flex on me like that, huh?" Kei muttered, glancing down at Fuma’s bag.

Fuma smirked. "It’s not my fault you suck at goldfish scooping."

Kei scoffed. "I refuse to acknowledge this as a real skill."

"Sounds like something a loser would say." The younger alpha laughed, shaking his head as they finally reached the front steps of Kei’s family home.

The house was quiet, the soft glow from the porch lights the only thing illuminating the entrance. Kei slid the wooden door open carefully, stepping inside first, and Fuma followed, slipping off his shoes in the genkan.

"Alright," Kei sighed, stretching his arms overhead. "Guess we gotta find a place for those guys."

"I was just gonna leave them in the bag."

Kei looked at him like he had committed a crime. "Excuse me? You win something, you take care of it."

Fuma sighed. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

Kei hummed, thinking for a second before snapping his fingers. “I think there’s an old tank somewhere in the basement from when Yuuji and I had fish when we were kids. I’ll be right back”

The other alpha returned a few moments later, a 10L tank in hand. “It’s a bit small, and dusty. But it will do for now”

Back in Kei’s room, they set the tank on his desk, filling it with clean water from the bathroom sink. The goldfish - three small, bright orange shapes darting nervously in their plastic bag - seemed completely unaware that their fate had now been tied to two alphas who had barely thought about what to do with them an hour ago.

"Alright, moment of truth," Kei said, carefully placing the bag in the tank to let the water adjust to the temperature.

Fuma sat on the edge of Kei’s futon, arms crossed. "Think they’ll live?"

Kei shot him a look. "Don’t say it like they’re doomed."

Fuma shrugged. "Festival fish don’t exactly have a long lifespan."

Kei huffed, resting his chin on his palm as they watched the goldfish float inside the bag. "Nah. These guys? They’re survivors."

Fuma chuckled, but his gaze stayed on the tank. For some reason, watching the little fish swim in lazy circles was oddly calming. Kei must have thought the same, because after a few minutes, he leaned back on his hands, exhaling slowly.

"Tonight was nice," he muttered, voice quieter than usual.

Fuma glanced at him, then back at the tank.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It was."

After their long day, when the world around them had finally settled and everything felt still, the two alphas lay in their respective beds, both very much still awake. Kei had been unusually quiet, and Fuma, unable to ignore the subtle shift in the air, turned onto his side to glance at Kei, who was staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey, Fuma,” Kei’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. 

Fuma hummed. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

Kei paused, taking a breath before he turned his head to face Fuma. “Well, you know I already have my new place, right? It’s got two bedrooms,” he started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more serious behind it. “I was thinking... maybe you could move in with me.”

Fuma’s heart skipped a beat. Something about that made Fuma’s stomach feel weirdly tight, not in a bad way, just in a way he didn’t have words for.

Kei, noticing Fuma’s hesitation, quickly added, “It’d save you the hassle of finding some random roommate. We get along well, right? And honestly, it’d be nice to have someone around I actually enjoy spending time with.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. It made sense. It was logical and practical. But at the same time, maybe he should say no, it’s too much, too soon, that they’ve only been friends for a year, that living together could be different. And Fuma wasn’t sure if it was the summer air, the lingering festival magic, or just the way Kei had said it like it had been on his mind for a while but he found himself exhaling through his nose. 

“Okay,”

Kei grinned. “Yeah?”

Fuma exhaled, rolling onto his side to face the wall. “Yeah.”

Kei let out a breath, sounding too pleased with himself. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

Fuma closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his heart was still beating too fast.

The weight of the moment settled between them - something that felt like the beginning of a new chapter, a step toward something they both seemed to want without even realizing it. Fuma didn’t know where things would go, but he knew one thing for sure: this was the right decision, and it felt right in his gut.

Their new apartment wasn’t anything fancy, but it was the kind of place that felt fresh, new, and just big enough for two. It was a two-bedroom near campus that had been built in the past few years, so it looked modern compared to most apartments around the school. Fuma stood in the middle of the empty living room, hands on his hips, taking it all in.

It had clean white walls, dark wooden flooring, and big windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting long, golden streaks across the floor as the afternoon sun filtered through. A sliding glass door led out onto a small balcony, overlooking the quiet streets below, where the tops of nearby buildings and distant trees swayed lightly in the breeze.

Behind him, Kei dropped a heavy box onto the floor with a satisfied sigh, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad, huh?"

Fuma glanced at him, then back at the apartment. "Better than I expected."

Kei smirked. "What, did you think I was gonna make us live in a shoebox?"

Fuma shrugged. "Wouldn’t have put it past you."

The two bedrooms were slightly different in size, one of either side of the hallway to give them both a sense of privacy.  Kei had claimed the bigger bedroom. ‘I’m taller, I need the space,’ he argued, while Fuma had ended up with the one closer to the kitchen. Which, in hindsight, was probably a bad idea, because it meant he was always the one who had to deal with Kei raiding the fridge in the middle of the night. The kitchen was an open-concept space where the small kitchen blended into the living area, separated only by a countertop island. The kitchen had dark cabinets, a gas stove, and just enough counter space for cooking - though Fuma already suspected that he’d be using it more than Kei would. 

Boxes were everywhere. Half-unpacked, half-forgotten. Fuma had just finished setting up the goldfish’s new tank, watching the orange fish swimming around their new digs, checking it out. The new tank was twice the size of the one from Kei's basement, and he had decorated it with dark rocks, fake plants and small AT-AT for the fish to swim around. Satisfied the fish were happy, Fuma stood up to look at his new roommate. 

"We should probably unpack."

Kei flopped onto the floor, stretching out. "Or, hear me out - we order food first."

Fuma gave him a deadpan look. "You’re literally lying on an empty floor."

Kei patted the hardwood. "It's a good floor."

Fuma sighed, nudging a box toward him with his foot. "At least set up your bed first."

Kei groaned but sat up, muttering under his breath as he started dragging his mattress to his new room. They spent the next hour sorting through boxes, shuffling furniture, and figuring out where things should go. At some point, Kei found a box labeled "Fuma’s Kitchen Stuff" and immediately started snooping.

Fuma glanced up, narrowing his eyes. "What are you doing?"

Kei held up a fancy knife set, looking suspiciously impressed. "You weren’t kidding about liking to cook."

Fuma rolled his eyes. "Put that down before you hurt yourself."

Kei smirked. "I feel like I just learned a deep secret about you."

By the time the sun had fully set, the apartment still looked half-unpacked, but at least their beds were set up and they had enough space to sit in the living room and eat. Kei stretched his legs out, leaning back against one of his unpacked boxes, chopsticks in hand as he worked through a takeout bento. Fuma, seated across from him, was flipping through his phone when Kei suddenly spoke.

"This is gonna be fun, huh?"

Fuma glanced up. "Living together?"

Kei nodded, mouth full. "Yeah. I mean, unless you secretly hate me and you’re plotting your escape already."

Fuma smirked, setting his phone down. "Give it a month. If you suck at chores, I might run."

Kei scoffed. "You’re just jealous of my superior life skills."

"You tried to use the washing machine as a storage shelf when we got here."

Kei pointed at him with his chopsticks. "Doesn’t mean I won’t use it."

Fuma chuckled, shaking his head. 

For the most part, Kei was a good roommate. Fuma had no complaints. He had been a little worried at first - Kei was loud, a little too confident, and never seemed to sit still for long. But surprisingly, he wasn’t a disaster to live with. He wasn’t messy, was good with taking his laundry out of the dryer when it was done, and he didn’t blast music at ungodly hours like some of his previous roommates did. Sure, he could be a little loud sometimes, especially when he was gaming or talking on the phone, but overall, it was fine.

At least, most of the time. The only real issue was the dishes, and more specifically - Kei’s refusal to put them away himself. Which, as Fuma quickly learned, happened just enough to be annoying. It was an isolated incident at first. 

"Hey, can you put that bowl away for me?" Kei had asked one evening, motioning lazily toward the drying rack.

Fuma had raised a brow. "You’re standing right there."

"Yeah, but now I just sat down," Kei said, moving towards the couch and stretching out on it like he had been there the entire time. 

Fuma had sighed, but he did it anyway. Which was his mistake because that should have been the end of it, but then it kept happening.

"Fuma, grab me a plate from the pantry?" "Fuma, just put that away for me, please?" "Fuma, be useful and hand me a cup."

And more often than not, Fuma would respond with a "Do it yourself." Which led to Kei trying out a different tactic, a deeply irritating tactic - one that made something uncomfortable twist inside Fuma every time.

The younger alpha had been sitting at the counter, scrolling on his phone while waiting for his food to finish heating up in the microwave. Kei was by the sink, arms braced on the counter, staring down at the clean dishes in the drying rack like they personally offended him. Then, with the most exaggerated sigh imaginable, he turned toward Fuma.

“…Fuma.”

Fuma didn’t look up. “No.”

“Huh?”

“Whatever you’re about to ask. No.”

Kei whined. 

“Come on,” he said, dragging his feet over to Fuma’s side. “Can you put the dishes away?”

Fuma finally looked up, giving him a flat stare. “You were literally just standing there.”

Kei pouted. Actually. Pouted. His eyes slightly narrowed, mouth just barely turned down, looking way too much like a spoiled brat who wasn’t getting his way. Fuma’s eye twitched.

The older alpha leaned against the counter beside him, suddenly softening his voice, tilting his head in that way that made Fuma’s stomach do something unpleasant.

“But, Fuma,” Kei cooed, dragging out his name. “I just worked out. My arms are sore. What if I drop the plates?”

Fuma inhaled sharply through his nose. No. He wasn’t falling for this.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Kei nudged him. “Come oooon.”

Fuma gritted his teeth. Why was this so much worse than just arguing? It was infuriating. Not because Kei was being difficult - no, that Fuma could handle. It was because Kei was doing it on purpose. Because somehow, Kei had figured out that this stupid, cutesy act made Fuma react in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

It made something in his stomach tighten, made his skin prickle in a way that had nothing to do with second-hand embarrassment. And Fuma told himself over and over that this was just a cringe reaction. He had plenty of reasons to feel that way. Kei was an older alpha - he had no business acting cute like this. It was unnatural. It was unnecessary. It was wrong. Fuma wasn’t reacting to Kei himself. He was reacting to the cringe.

“You’re so annoying,” he muttered, standing up and grabbing the dishes aggressively.

Kei immediately beamed. “Thanks, Fuma~”

The younger alpha ignored him. Ignored the twisting feeling in his stomach. Ignored the way Kei’s voice lingered in his head longer than it should have. It was fine. Fuma was fine. Completely fine. He could deal with it, he could deal with Kei. Sure, his stomach twisted uncomfortably every time Kei pulled that stupid act, and sure, it lingered in his mind longer than it should, but that didn’t mean anything. It was just second-hand embarrassment. That was it. Nothing else.

Unfortunately, Kei had found out pretty quickly that it was the best way to get Fuma to do things for him, so naturally, he did it more. 

“Fuma,” Kei would sigh dramatically from the couch, legs stretched out lazily. “Can you grab me a drink?”

“No.”

“Please?” Kei would tilt his head, voice going just slightly too soft.

Fuma’s jaw would tighten. “You have legs.”

“But my legs are so tired, you pushed me too hard at the gym yesterday” Kei would whine. “Come on, Fuma. Be a good roommate.”

Fuma would toss a pillow at his head. But then - he’d still grab the drink anyway. And Kei would smile like he had won a prize at a carnival. Another habit was that Kei loved to walk around the house half-naked. After workouts, after showers, after waking up in the morning - it didn’t matter. Kei had no shame, no hesitation. He’d just toss a towel around his neck, run a hand through his damp hair, and walk around like his abs weren’t right there, out in the open.

It wasn’t weird. They were both alphas. They were both fit. They both worked out constantly, so it only made sense that Fuma would notice Kei’s progress. So what if his eyes lingered sometimes? That was just him making sure Kei wasn’t slacking in their workouts. It had nothing to do with the way Kei’s muscles flexed when he stretched, or how his abs looked ridiculously defined under the soft glow of their kitchen light.

It only became an issue when Kei finally noticed Fuma’s lingering stares. 

Fuma pushed open the door to the apartment, his body exhausted from the day’s lectures, assignments, and stress. All he wanted was to shower and crash into bed, to forget about the world outside for a few hours. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge, and for a moment, Fuma thought he’d get the solitude he craved. But then he froze.

There, in the kitchen, was Kei. The older alpha was leaning casually against the counter, completely shirtless and wearing nothing but gym shorts. His long, toned legs were on full display, the muscles of his calves and thighs sculpted beneath the fabric. Kei's skin was still slightly flushed, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead as though he had just stepped out of the shower. The kitchen light above him bathed his body in a soft glow, casting shadows that accentuated the long, lean muscles in his back and shoulders.

Fuma’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes automatically fell to Kei’s body. His mouth went dry as he stared, unable to look away. Kei’s physique was just... unreal. The way his muscles moved under his skin, the way his body was naturally put together - it was hard to look at anything else.

Kei, finally realizing Fuma was home, looked up and smiled at him. “Hey,” and when Fuma didn’t answer - still staring - the smile turned into a smirk. “See something you like?”

Fuma jumped, and panic surged through him. He felt his cheeks heat up, his body instantly tense. “N-no!” Fuma stammered, his eyes darting to the floor before he quickly turned toward his room. “I - uh, I’m just... gonna shower! Yeah!”

Fuma’s heart raced as he dashed down the hallway, practically running to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him, his pulse pounding in his ears. He stood there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. What the hell was that? He couldn’t believe it. He had just been caught - caught staring at Kei like some kind of pervert - and now he was scrambling to cover it up by rushing into the bathroom.

He turned on the shower, but the warm water cascading over him didn’t help at all. His mind kept flashing back to the way Kei’s body had looked, the way Fuma had been caught in that moment. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but now it was like the memory of Kei’s bare skin was seared into his brain. Fuma turned the water to cold before closing his eyes, trying to push the image away, but it lingered, making it hard to focus on anything else.

It’s not that I want to be with him, Fuma reasoned, his thoughts skittering away from the uncomfortable part. I just want to be like him.

Kei was everything Fuma wanted to be: confident, charming, smart, and undeniably attractive. He was the kind of alpha everyone respected, the kind of person who could walk into a room and instantly become the center of attention. Fuma could never pull that off, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t outgoing like Kei, didn’t have that effortless energy that made people want to be around him. It wasn’t just that he admired it - he wanted it. He wanted to be that confident, to be the one who didn’t second-guess every word and action.

Fuma convinced himself that the feelings he had for Kei were purely a form of admiration. There was no romantic longing, no desire beyond what Kei represented. He wanted to be Kei, to exude that effortless charisma, to command a room with a single glance. That was it, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly want anything more, could he?

Fuma didn’t have the answers, didn’t know what to do with this strange feeling. But after he got out of the shower and eventually ran into Kei who was sitting on the couch, watching his favourite team on the TV, Fuma couldn’t help but wonder if he was just lying to himself.

Chapter Text

The start of their senior year had been a whirlwind - classes, training, work, and, for Fuma, adjusting to living with Kei full-time. But now, for the first time since the semester had started, they were finally meeting up with their friends again.

The dive bar on campus was a hidden gem, tucked away in a corner of the student district, its unassuming entrance framed by worn neon lights that flickered with a tired hum. It wasn’t the kind of place freshmen flocked to, with their eagerness to show off their new fake IDs and order overpriced cocktails. Instead, ‘The Den’ was a sanctuary for the older students - those who had spent enough time on campus to get the lay of the land, who didn’t want to be packed into a sweaty crowd of first years who hadn’t learned the art of spacing out, of respecting personal space while still having a good time. Here, people could unwind, enjoy their drinks without the pressure of a crowded dance floor or the frantic buzz of unfamiliar faces.

The interior was dim, the low lighting casting long shadows across mismatched tables and chairs. A faded jukebox in the corner played hits ranging over a few decades, the steady rhythm of guitars and drums adding a nostalgic ambiance to the space. The walls were cluttered with posters of past campus events, old band flyers, and chalkboard signs advertising nightly specials - cheap beer, stronger liquor, and sometimes a questionable "mystery shot" for those daring enough.

A long, polished wood bar stretched across the back, a few stools scattered in front of it, but the real charm of the place was the booths. Large, plush seats lined the walls, the dark leather cracked with age but still holding a sense of comfort, as if the bar itself had been built to welcome you in and never rush you out. It had the kind of atmosphere that made you feel like you belonged, even if you didn’t quite know what to expect from the night ahead.

Fuma and Kei stepped into the dimly lit bar, immediately greeted by the low hum of conversation, and the mix of alcohol, sweat and countless different personal scents. The thick scent of too many people in one space was overwhelming for some, but Fuma had always been good at filtering out the background noise. 

The place was packed, but they had no trouble finding his friends. They were easy to spot, the group of them - their loud personalities practically advertising their presence. Their laughter and teasing voices cut through the ambient noise, impossible to miss. The alphas followed the sound, weaving through clusters of people, and spotted them in one of the bigger booths by the back wall. Chan’s voice rang out above the rest, booming with enthusiasm as he argued about something trivial with Hyunjae. Kevin was laughing, his head tilted back in that carefree way he had, while Juyeon and Jiwoong looked more subdued but still animated, grinning at whatever joke had just been made. It had been a while since they’d all been together, but the second Kei led the way over, it was like nothing had changed.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Chan called, grinning as they approached.

Kei grinned back, sliding into the booth beside Juyeon. “We’ve been busy, man.”

"Yeah, you know how it is," Fuma joked. "Traffic."

He slid a little further into the seat to give himself more space, but the booth was tight, and it forced him to press right up against Kei. The heat from Kei’s body seemed to radiate against him, and Fuma felt his heartbeat accelerate. He couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of the proximity, the way his shoulder brushed against Kei’s. He could feel the warmth of Kei’s presence, solid and grounded beside him, and it made his skin tingle with a mixture of nerves and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“Dude, what traffic? You like, live right around the corner from here” Kevin snorted and Fuma narrowed his eyes at him. 

“Foot traffic” 

Kevin just rolled his eyes at the alpha’s answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, anyways, what's everyone's poison?” Juyeon asked, waving a menu.

“Whiskey, obviously,” Hyunjae said, grinning.

Minho scoffed. “Of course you’d say that.”

“Alright,” Chan clapped his hands together. “First round is on me. Who wants a shot?”

A round of agreement circled the table, and before Fuma could think too hard, a tray of tequila shots appeared.

“I wanted whiskey,” Hyunjae pouted. 

“I don’t care,” Minho responded, handing out a shot to everyone. 

Jiwoong grinned. “Hope you all can keep up.”

The shots went down smooth - burning warm in his throat, settling deep in his stomach. The pints of beer afterward only loosened the edge, making the air feel warmer, the conversations louder. Fuma wasn’t drunk - not even close. He had a high tolerance, always did, but he could feel the pleasant buzz creeping in. He was happy that he was here, with his friends, and with Kei.

The waitress dropped off another round of light-coloured beers, the pitchers clinking as she set them down, and Fuma, found himself pouring two glasses full. It wasn’t much, just a simple gesture. Something ingrained in him from a young age. When interacting with an older alpha, a more important alpha, you pour for them first. It was just a sign of respect. A reflex, something that had been drilled into him without much thought. And then, without even looking, he offered the second one to Kei.

It wasn’t until he felt Kei’s eyes on him that he realized - Oh. Maybe this wasn’t normal. Fuma stiffened slightly, but he didn’t take the glass back. He had already done it, already offered it, so he kept his expression neutral, his hand steady as he held it out.

“Here, this is for you,” Fuma said, his voice steady despite the slight nervous flutter that still hadn’t quite dissipated, but Kei didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, he looked at Fuma, not just at the glass, but at him. Something flickered behind those sharp eyes - a quiet amusement, a glint of curiosity.

“Oh? You really don’t have to, Fuma,” Kei eventually teased, but there was warmth behind his words. “But thank you. You’re so thoughtful” 

When Fuma handed the glass to Kei, his fingers brushed lightly against the older alphas for half a second - just a touch, barely anything, and yet the briefest touch still sent a ripple of warmth up his arm. Fuma swallowed, his throat a little dry, but he returned a small smile, trying not to let his nerves show.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, settling back into his seat, his heart still racing from the simple touch.

“So,” Jiwoong said, taking a sip of his beer. “The real question is - how’s the roommate situation going?”

“Oh, it’s been great,” Kei said smoothly, tossing an arm over the back of his new roommate's shoulders, casual as ever. “Fuma does all the chores. Cooks for me, too.”

Fuma shot him a look. “I do not.”

Kei turned to him, grinning. “You’re telling me you don’t make extra portions when you cook?”

“That’s just -” Fuma scowled. “That’s just being practical.”

The table erupted in laughter.

“Damn,” Kevin said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a housewife, Fuma.”

Fuma pointed his beer at him. “Say that again, and I’m throwing this at you.”

Kei laughed, clearly enjoying himself too much. “Relax, Fuma. You’re doing great.”

Fuma just sighed. This was exactly the problem with living with Kei - he knew exactly how to push his buttons now. But before Fuma could come up with a comeback, Jiwoong leaned in, changing the subject.

“Alright, but seriously - how’s senior year treating you guys so far?”

Kei shrugged, sipping his drink. “Not bad. Just making it through.”

Fuma nodded in agreement. “Same. It’s not hitting too hard yet.”

Minho smirked. “That’s ‘cause the real suffering hasn’t started yet.”

Hyunjae groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

The conversation shifted after that, moving from classes to professors to who had already been skipping lectures this early in the semester. (“I haven’t missed a single class,” Kevin announced proudly. “That’s because you’re a nerd,” Chan said.)

It wasn’t long before the night was in full swing. Laughter, clinking glasses, music thrumming through the bar - it was exactly the kind of night they all needed. The first few weeks of senior year had been hectic, but tonight? Tonight was just about friends, drinks, and pretending like assignments didn’t exist. Fuma leaned back in his seat, half-listening as Juyeon and Hyunjae argued over something ridiculous. Then, Kei nudged his arm.

“You getting the next round?”

Fuma sighed dramatically but stood up anyway. “Yeah, yeah.”

Kei grinned, clearly pleased. “Good alpha.”

Fuma swatted at him, ignoring the way that stupid comment made his chest feel weird, before making his way to the bar.

The line at the bar was crowded, as usual. Fuma waited, checking his phone absentmindedly, when he felt someone step closer beside him.

“Hey,” a voice said, smooth and easy.

Fuma glanced over. A very pretty omega with long black hair and wide brown eyes stood beside him.

She smiled, tilting her head slightly. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

Fuma blinked. “Uh. I come sometimes.”

She hummed, eyes skimming over him. “You’re an alpha, right?”

Fuma stiffened slightly, almost frowning. He was almost offended at the thought that he might be mistaken for another subgender. In his eyes, he looked 100% alpha. Was there something she was seeing that he wasn’t? Still, he nodded.

“Yeah.”

Her smile widened. “Thought so”

Fuma had no idea what to say to that. He wasn’t bad at talking to omegas - he just… didn’t do it often. She leaned in slightly, just enough for him to catch the faintest trace of her scent - something floral, something sweet.

“You here with anyone?” she asked.

Fuma paused, and then, before he could even think about his answer, someone stepped up beside him. 

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” a familiar voice cut in smoothly.

Fuma barely had time to turn before Kei was suddenly right there, standing beside him, arm places over Fuma’s shoulders. His scent - that familiar amber and cedarwood - flooded the space instantly, completely overtaking the omega’s soft floral scent.

Kei smiled at her, polite but not friendly. The omega blinked, gaze flickering between them. Something in her expression shifted - not annoyed, not exactly backing off, but different. Fuma felt it too. Kei barely was touching him, wasn’t even doing anything obvious, but his presence was… solid. The kind that said this conversation was over. The omega took the hint.

She gave a small, knowing smile before stepping back. “Got it. Maybe next time.”

And just like that, she was gone. Leaving Fuma standing there, still processing what the hell just happened.

Fuma turned to Kei, brows furrowed. “What was that?”

Kei tilted his head. “What?”

“That.” Fuma gestured vaguely at where the omega had just been standing. “You just -” He exhaled sharply. “She was just talking to me.”

Kei smirked. “She was flirting with you.”

Fuma scowled. “So?”

“So? I want my beer” Kei raised an eyebrow. “Did you want to talk to her?”

Fuma opened his mouth - paused. Kei watched him, something unreadable flickering behind his usual amusement.

Fuma’s jaw tensed. He didn’t know. It should have been an easy question. But the truth was - he hadn’t cared. Not when she leaned in, not when she smiled, not when she practically invited him to be interested. Kei’s gaze flickered, just for a second, before he reached past him.

“Anyway,” he said, grabbing two of the drinks from the counter as the bartender set them down. “Come on, wifey. The others are waiting.”

Fuma huffed, pushing down whatever weird feeling was settling in his chest as he followed Kei back to the booth.

“I wouldn’t be the wife, you would!”

Fuma woke up the next morning, slightly hungover and tired. He glanced at his phone and saw it was 12:37pm. He hadn’t gotten completely wrecked last night, but he’d had just enough alcohol that when he woke up to a bright-ass sun and a group chat full of texts demanding he get out of bed, he immediately regretted his life choices.

Sometime the night before, Juyeon had convinced everyone to get together today for a game of pick-up basketball. The weather had been perfect lately - warm with a slight breeze that made you want to be outside. It had seemed great at the time, but now Fuma wants nothing more than to stay in bed. His head wasn’t pounding, but there was a dull ache at the back of his skull, a reminder that he should’ve stopped drinking two rounds earlier.

Nevertheless, he rolled out of bed, chugged a bottle of water, grabbed some painkillers and forced himself to go take a shower. He passed by Kei on the way who seemed just as worse for wear. The older alpha was sipping coffee and nibbling on a protein bar, not having the stomach to eat anything heavier. 

The basketball courts were busy by the two of them arrived, but their friends were already there, gathered at some benches by one of the courts Hyunjae was stretching, Jiwoong and Kevin were talking near the hoop, and Chan was attempting to spin a ball on his finger while Minho watched with amusement.

"Hey, look who finally made it," Hyunjae called, grinning.

Fuma scoffed, tossing his bag down near the bench. "We’re not even late. You said 3pm and it’s 2:52"

"Yeah, yeah." Chan finally gave up on spinning the ball and passed it to Fuma. "Let’s see how fine you are, take the first shot."

Fuma caught the ball without hesitation, lined up his aim, and took a smooth three-pointer.

Swish.

Juyeon raised his eyebrows. "Okay, not bad."

"Not bad?" Fuma smirked. "Try perfect."

"Alright, alright, let’s not inflate your ego too much," Kevin said. “Kei, what about you?”

Fuma turned to look at his roommate as the older alpha grabbed the ball from his hands.

"You make one shot and think you’re hot shit?" Kei teased the younger boy.

Fuma rolled his eyes. "Please. I make every shot."

"That so?" Kei spun the ball in his hands, then smoothly took a shot of his own.

Swish.

Hyunjae let out a low whistle. "Alright, we got some competition today."

Fuma just huffed, crossing his arms. "Lucky shot."

“Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Kei grinned. 

The sun was relentless, beating down on the basketball court as Fuma wiped the sweat from his forehead, his t-shirt already clinging to his back from the heat as they took turns shooting into the basket to warm up. The slightly chilled autumn breeze wasn't doing much to cook them down, the occasional bounce of a basketball echoing against the pavement as the group warmed up for their pick-up game. Fuma’s muscles were already starting to feel the burn, but he didn’t mind - the heat was part of the challenge, part of the fun.

Kevin was already animated, bouncing around on the court, cracking jokes and hyping up the others, his energy contagious. Hyunjae was stretching nearby, cracking his neck with a casual glance toward Fuma. 

“You ready to be the first one to lose?” The other alpha teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Just wait,” Fuma replied to Hyunjae, his voice steady despite the sweat gathering at his brow. “I’m going to make you regret that.”

Jiwoong stretched, glancing at everyone. "Alright, shirts vs. skins?"

There was a round of agreement, and without hesitation, Minho started assigning teams.

"Shirts: Me, Hyunjae, Kevin, and Kei."

Fuma barely had time to process that before Minho continued.

"Skins: Fuma, Chan, Jiwoong, and Juyeon."

"Why do I feel like you did this just to see me with my shirt off" Chan gave Minho a pointed looked, already peeling his shirt off as his mate just smirked at him. 

"Hey, if you’ve got a problem with it, you can take it up with me later tonight" He teased. Hyunjae gagged loudly from beside the other alpha. 

Fuma glanced around as the others looked at each other, a mix of nods and playful groans. His team was going to be skins, and he couldn’t deny that the thought of shedding his sweaty shirt felt oddly freeing. With a quick motion, he peeled it off, revealing his buff, built upper body to the rest of the group. The cool air immediately hit his skin, the sweat that had been building up evaporating slightly now that his shirt was gone.

He tossed his shirt onto the bench and rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms overhead. Being on the skins team wasn’t a big deal. He’d played plenty of pickup games like this before, and he wasn’t self-conscious about his body. The alpha knew he had a nice body. It wasn’t arrogance - it was just a fact. A result of all the time he put into training, lifting, running, and making sure he didn’t eat too much junk. 

The heat of the sun only seemed to increase the tension between the teams. With the game now set as a 4-on-4, Fuma felt the familiar competitive spark flare up. His muscles were already itching for the adrenaline rush, and the presence of Kei on the opposing team added an extra layer of intensity to the game.

As everyone got in position on the court, Fuma’s eyes caught the older alphas. His gaze was subtly lingering on Fuma, just for a moment, but it was obvious his eyes were tracing over the younger alpha’s chest and arms. Fuma felt his face burn as he quickly looked away, trying to focus back on the game. 

It’s just the heat, Fuma reasoned internally, trying to brush it off. Kei’s probably just checking out my gains, that’s all. He had put in a lot of effort to get stronger, and maybe it was natural for someone to notice.

“Juyeon, you dumbass! Forget something?” A voice called out just as they were about to tip off the ball. 

A small object flew through the air, landing squarely against Juyeon’s chest. The alpha barely caught it in time, blinking down at the wallet in his hands. Then he groaned.

“Shit, I knew I was missing something.”

Fuma glanced toward the source of the voice, immediately understanding why it sounded so familiar. It was Chanhee, the omega from Juyeon’s pack, and the same omega Fuma made out with a couple months ago.  The omega was looking directly at Juyeon, clearly unimpressed.

“How did you forget your wallet? You literally drove here!”

Juyeon scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "You’re a lifesaver, man."

"Yeah, yeah, Jacob made me come here and drop it off," Chanhee muttered. Then his gaze flicked over the rest of them, taking in the sweaty alphas and betas - half of them shirtless. "But maybe I’ll stay and watch you all play," he mused, pushing his sunglasses up his nose like he hadn’t just been blatantly checking Fuma out.

Kevin smirked, tossing a water bottle at him. "Wanna play?"

Chanhee caught it effortlessly, giving Kevin a look. "Do I look like I play basketball?"

"You look like you like to make fun of people who do," The beta muttered.

Chanhee shrugged. "You’re not wrong."

“Well, you’re just in time to watch us kick some ass.” 

“Perfect,” The omega turned back to Fuma. “Hi, Fuma”

Fuma could feel the heat creeping up his neck again, though this time it wasn’t from the sun - it was the way Chanhee was looking at him, and it made Fuma a little self-conscious.

“Hey, how are you?” The alpha greeted back. 

“Oh, I’m much better now” Fuma nodded, trying not to overthink the interaction, but Chanhee’s smile stayed on his lips, a playful glint in his eyes that didn’t seem to go away. He could smell the omega’s roses scent lingering even when he backed away to go back to his spot on the court.

“Alright, first to fifteen,” Minho called. “No crying when you lose.”

“Yeah, you might wanna keep that advice for yourself,” Jiwoong shot back.

Kei smirked, bouncing the ball once, spinning it in his hands and then, without warning, he tossed it at Fuma. The younger alpha barely caught it in time, the impact stinging his palms.

“Hope you’re warmed up,” Kei said easily, that teasing edge in his voice.

Fuma snorted, shaking his head as he dribbled the ball. “I could be asleep and still beat you.”

Kei’s grin widened. “Bold.”

Hyunjae clapped his hands. “Alright, save the flirting for later, let’s get started.”

Fuma rolled his eyes, getting ready to start. 

It was obvious that Kei was the competitive type.  It didn’t matter what he was doing - whether it was soccer, studying, or something as simple as who could drink more without tapping out. If there was a challenge, a way to win, a chance to prove himself - he was taking it. Basketball was no different. The second the game started, Kei was on Fuma’s ass. 

"I call Fuma!" Kei called out with a grin, his voice casual but carrying a playful edge.

The younger alpha pivoted on his foot, preparing to make a move when suddenly, Kei was right there - hovering close, blocking his every attempt. The other alpha was close enough that Fuma could feel the heat of his body, the brush of their shoulders whenever Fuma tried to break away.

Fuma tried to maneuver around him, but Kei wasn’t letting up. Every time Fuma made a move, Kei was right there, bumping into him just enough to throw off his balance. It was intentional, Fuma realized. Kei was fully aware of what he was doing, using his body to stay in Fuma’s way, not afraid to get close and use every inch of the space between them to keep him from getting the ball.

Fuma could feel his heart beating faster, the heat of the game amplified by the proximity of Kei’s presence. The closer they got, the harder it became to focus - Kei was relentless, his body pressing just a little too close, and Fuma couldn’t help but be aware of every movement. Every step felt like it mattered more than it should, like there was something unspoken in the way Kei moved with him. It was frustrating as hell, but Kei was clearly enjoying himself. 

“Not getting past me that easily,” Kei teased, his voice light but taunting as he brushed against Fuma again, blocking his path.

Fuma gritted his teeth, pushing past the uncomfortable warmth and trying to regain control. Focus, he told himself. This is just a game. But with Kei so close, bumping into him on purpose, it was hard to keep his mind from wandering. He could smell the faint trace of amber and cedarwood, the scent swirling around them, making everything feel even more intense.

“Move, Kei,” Fuma snapped, trying to sidestep him. But the alpha was there again, in his space, forcing him to change direction.

“You’re gonna have to work for it,” Kei laughed, his voice low and almost teasing. “I’m not just going to let you have it that easily.”

Fuma gritted his teeth again, his body pushing forward despite the tension. He wasn’t going to back down - not now, not with Kei so close.

"Not bad," Kei said casually, after stopping Fuma’s drive to the basket.

Fuma huffed, stepping back to reset. "I’m not even trying yet."

Kei’s smirk widened. "Good. I’d hate for you to make this easy."

Fuma exhaled sharply. This guy. Why did he always have to talk like that? Like he knew exactly how to get under Fuma’s skin?

"Quit flirting and play!" Hyunjae called from the other side of the court.

Kei just chuckled, chest bumping against Fuma’s shoulder. "Better focus," he murmured.

Fuma’s heart pounded in his chest as he dribbled the ball, eyes flicking from one player to the next, searching for any gap in the defense. He could feel his frustration building - he needed to make a move, to get past Kei, but the older alpha was like a wall, staying just close enough to keep Fuma from breaking free. His teammates were no help, all of them blocked by the opposing team, leaving Fuma with no clear way forward. He needed space - just a few inches - and he knew what he had to do. He had to push back. Literally. Without thinking, he shoved his weight backward, his broad shoulders pressing hard into Kei’s chest.

Fuma’s back pressed into Kei’s front, the contact immediate, electric, and undeniable. A burst of heat shot through him, and for just a split second, Fuma’s focus wavered. But he pushed the feeling aside, using the brief contact to his advantage. For a moment, Fuma was sure Kei would stumble or lose his balance, but the alpha barely faltered. He took a step back, giving Fuma the few inches of space he needed to take off. He twisted his body out of Kei’s range and broke free, his legs pumping as he darted toward the net at the other end of the court before the older alpha could close the gap again. 

He could feel the eyes of his teammates and opponents alike, could feel Kei chasing after him but he didn’t care. He was close, just a few feet away from making the shot. With a quick, practiced move, Fuma leaped, sending the ball flying toward the basket with perfect precision. One clean layup. The ball sailed through the air, heading straight for the hoop. And then, the satisfying swish of it going through the net.

"Finally!" Chan called. "I thought you were gonna let Kei lock you down the whole game!"

“Nice shot!” Kevin cheered, jogging by to high-five his teammate. The rest of his team came by to congratulate him too, slapping his back. 

“Good one man” Juyeon nodded in approval.

Fuma exhaled hard, hands on his hips, grinning as he glanced over his shoulder to where Kei was still back where Fuma had left him, standing near the three-point line, his hands on his hips, his head tilted slightly.

"Not bad," Kei said, as they passed by each other to get back into position. "Smart move."

Fuma scoffed, still catching his breath. "Had to do something to get you off me."

Kei chuckled, stepping past Fuma as the game reset.

The game had been going hard for nearly half an hour, sweat dripping, breaths coming heavier. The score was tight, neither team willing to let up, but when Juyeon called for a water break, no one complained. Fuma dropped onto the bench, running a hand through his damp hair, his body still buzzing from the game.  His body was warm, but he felt good.

His last shot had been clean - smooth footwork, a perfect drive, and a shot that had landed effortlessly, and when the ball had sunk through the hoop, a deep satisfaction had settled in his chest. As he reached for his water bottle, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Chanhee had left his shaded spot under the tree and was walking toward him, his expression unreadable behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Fuma barely had time to process it before Chanhee stopped beside him.

"Hey, that last shot was impressive," Chanhee said as he reached out and let his fingers brush lightly against Fuma’s arm. It wasn’t a heavy touch, just barely there, the soft drag of his fingertips over Fuma’s sun-warmed skin.

“Oh, thanks. I got lucky, I guess” Fuma huffed a laugh. 

“No way it’s just luck. Have you played lots before?”

Fuma was about to answer when Kei strolled over and sat down next to him, casually draping an arm around Fuma’s sweaty shoulders. His touch was confident, almost possessive, as he pulled Fuma a little closer. The younger alpha froze for a moment, feeling the weight of Kei’s presence, his scent overpowering everything else, including the faint trace of Chanhee’s vanilla and roses that still lingered on Fuma’s skin. 

“Come on, break’s over” The older alpha told him, pulling him back to the court. 

The more the game went on, the more Fuma began to notice Kei’s actions. It was subtle at first, just the occasional look that seemed to linger a little too long when Chanhee tried to engage with Fuma. But as the game heated up, Kei started to make his presence felt in a way that left Fuma with a strange, nervous flutter in his chest.

Whenever Chanhee got close, whether to chat, Kei would call Fuma over with a casual command, as if to draw him away from the omega. “Hey, Fuma, over here,” Kei would say, his voice easy and commanding, always placing himself between Fuma and the omega without hesitation. And then there were the moments when someone else tried to block Fuma, like when Kevin’s playful energy was clear as he moved to get in Fuma’s way. But Kei wasn’t having any of it. He’d step in, positioning himself between them, his body solid and unyielding.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Kei would say, his voice laced with that playful yet possessive edge. He would stand close behind Fuma, making sure there was no room for Kevin to interfere. His scent wrapped around Fuma like a protective shield, making everything feel suddenly more intense.

Fuma’s heart skipped a beat, a mixture of confusion and something else blooming in his chest. Kei was always the easygoing, confident alpha, but now Fuma couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it - something unspoken. He tried to ignore the rush of feelings that came with it, but it was hard when Kei’s presence felt so... deliberate.

The game eventually ended, and the court was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as the players tried to catch their breath. The teams were a blur of sweaty bodies, and flushed faces from the intense competition.

Fuma bent forward, placing his hands on his knees as he panted for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His entire body was coated in sweat, the sun relentless even as the afternoon started to stretch into evening. He could feel his heart racing in the aftermath of the game - the muscles in his lungs screaming from the exertion, but it felt good. 

The asphalt was littered with players sprawled out on their backs, stretching their limbs or just trying to catch their breath. The air around them felt thick with exhaustion, but there was an undeniable sense of camaraderie that made the tiredness more bearable.

"That - " Hyunjae wheezed, "- was way too serious for a pickup game."

"Speak for yourself," Juyeon muttered, flopping down beside him. "I feel like I just ran a damn marathon."

Minho, wiping sweat from his forehead, grinned smugly. "Well, some of us actually kept up."

"Shut up," Kevin groaned, leaning back on his arms. "I don’t even care who won. I just care about getting something cold to drink."

Fuma wiped his brow and tugged his shirt back over his head. The sun had been relentless during the game, and he wasn’t eager to get a sunburn on top of the workout. He grimaced as he pulled the damp fabric over his skin, the coolness of the shirt hitting his damp skin. It was refreshing but also made him more aware of the heat he had just worked through.

Kei was standing beside him, his own chest still rising and falling from exertion. His usual composed exterior was slightly unraveled, his hair damp with sweat, his skin flushed from the heat as he nudged the younger alpha with his elbow.

"You did good out there," Kei mused, amusement laced in his voice. "Barely. When you were actually able to break free from my blocking"

Fuma scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please. I had you tripping all game."

Kei smirked, his gaze flickering over Fuma like he was measuring something. Then, before Fuma could say anything else, Kei reached out and grabbed the front of Fuma’s shirt, tugging it up just slightly.

"You're a mess," Kei remarked, letting go just as quickly as he had grabbed it. "Better clean up before we head out."

Fuma blinked, his body suddenly hyper-aware of the way Kei’s fingers had briefly brushed against his stomach. But before he could react - before he could process what the hell that was - Kei was already turning away like nothing had happened. Fuma exhaled slowly, trying to shake the weird feeling creeping up his spine.

“Alright, alright, let’s figure out who’s going to do the drinks,” Hyunjae called out, breaking the silence. The group slowly began to get up to gather around.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Jiwoong suggested with a grin, clapping his hands together. “Winner gets to sit here and relax. Two losers go get drinks for everyone.”

Fuma wasn’t thrilled at the idea, but he knew it was coming. The group had been doing it for years - whoever lost in rock, paper, scissors ended up doing the errand run.

"Please don’t make me move," Kevin groaned, still slumped against the ground like he had already melted into it.

"You better win, then," Hyunjae smirked.

"Best out of three," Juyeon called, lifting his fist.

Minho started the first round, his eyes locked on Fuma and Kei, as if he already knew what was about to happen.  Fuma exhaled, shaking his head. He wasn’t worried. Rock, paper, scissors wasn’t about luck - it was about reading your opponent. He had this. Or at least, he thought he did.

Until he lost.

Every. Single. Round.

When the final match was over, Fuma stared down at his traitorous hand, fingers still clenched in a fist. Across from him, Kei - who had also somehow lost every single round - exhaled sharply through his nose. Fuma had hoped for a different outcome, but fate had decided. He shot Kei a look that was half-resigned, half-amused.  It seemed that fate enjoyed pairing them together as of late.

Kei, ever so casual, raised an eyebrow. “Looks like it’s just you and me, huh?”

Juyeon grinned, slapping a hand on Fuma’s shoulder. "Better luck next time, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah," Fuma muttered, rubbing his face.

Minho leaned back, smug. "Don’t forget, we all want something ice cold. I swear to God, if you bring back warm sodas -"

"Do we look like idiots?" Kei cut in, already walking toward the street. Fuma sighed, running a hand through his damp hair before following him. As the rest of the group called out their drink orders, the two of them finally broke away from the court, heading down the street toward the nearest convenience store.

The sun was starting to dip lower, casting a golden glow over the pavement as the two of them walked side by side, the air between them comfortable and familiar. 

As soon as the sliding doors of the convenience store whooshed open, a rush of cool, crisp air enveloped Fuma and Kei, instantly washing over their overheated bodies. The sudden drop in temperature was heavenly. It was like stepping into another world after spending the last couple of hours in the heat of the sun. The air conditioning felt like a tangible relief, a soothing contrast to the lingering sweat on their skin. Fuma let out a soft sigh, his body already beginning to relax in the cool embrace of the store.

"God, that feels good," he muttered under his breath. Beside him, Kei let out a low chuckle.

"Almost makes losing worth it," the older alpha mused, stretching his arms overhead. His shirt, damp with sweat, lifted just slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin before falling back into place.

Fuma cleared his throat, nodding in agreement as he looked back at Kei’s face. “Let’s just grab the drinks before Minho starts complaining.”

Kei hummed, obviously amused but didn’t push it. "Yeah, yeah. Ice-cold, or we’ll never hear the end of it."

They wandered deeper into the store where the fridge section awaited them, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. The shelves were neatly stocked, and the scent of chilled air mixed with plastic-wrapped snacks filling the space. The refrigerated aisles stretched in front of them like a row of cool, brightly lit glass doors, each one packed with a variety of drinks. The sight of chilled bottles, cans of iced tea, sports drinks, and cold sodas promised nothing but comfort. Fuma’s eyes quickly scanned the options, still feeling the heat radiating from his body, even though the A/C was working its magic. Kei didn’t hesitate, stepping right up to one of the doors and sticking his head inside.

Fuma frowned, watching as Kei practically pressed his face against the shelves. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kei, still half inside the fridge, let out a content sigh. "Cooling off."

Fuma stared. "Are you serious?"

"Try it. Feels amazing."

"I’m not sticking my head in a fridge."

Kei shrugged, unbothered. "Your loss."

Shaking his head, Fuma ignored him and opened another fridge door, grabbing a few sports drinks and bottles of water.

"Alright," he muttered, shoving the bottles into his arms. "What else do we need?"

Kei finally pulled back from his personal cooling session, his hair slightly damp from sweat but looking far too pleased with himself. “Ready to head back?”

“Yeah, let’s get back to the others before they start complaining about how slow we are.”

With their drinks in hand, they made their way to the counter until a flash of colour caught Fuma’s eye. The bright blue sign above it read ‘Frozen Treats’, and inside, an array of popsicles and ice creams were nestled in a layer of frost. He stopped to slide open the top of the ice box, digging around inside. Kei curiously glanced over his shoulder to see what he was doing. 

Fuma grabbed two different flavours, holding them up for Kei to see. “Want a popsicle?”

“Hell yeah I do”

They ended up picking a pair of fruity popsicles - one mango, the other strawberry - and tossed them into the basket with the drinks. Kei insisted on paying and Fuma just shrugged, stepping aside to let the older tap his card against the machine. 

The air outside was just starting to cool as the sun continued its journey down to the horizon as Fuma and Kei walked back to their friends. In one of Fuma’s hands, the bag of drinks rustled lightly while in his other hand, the vibrant mango popsicle dripped onto his skin. A comfortable silence filled with the occasional sounds of the city around them. - the rush of passing cars, the chatter of people on the sidewalks, the rhythmic thud of their sneakers against the pavement.

“How is it?” Kei asked, taking a lick of his own. 

“It’s really good,” Fuma hummed. 

“I don’t think I’ve had that flavour before,” Kei told him and without thinking, Fuma held his popsicle out toward Kei, offering some of it to him. It was only fair after the other alpha had offered him some of his own ice cream a couple of weeks ago. Kei’s eyes flickered to the popsicle, amusement sparking in his gaze.

Fuma expected Kei to take the treat from his hand, the usual simple gesture of sharing a snack. But instead, the older alpha leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Fuma’s as his lips parted just enough for his tongue to stick out and take a slow lick of the popsicle. Fuma froze, watching, transfixed, as Kei’s mouth wrapped around the cool treat, savoring the flavor with a deep hum of approval.

The sensation of Kei’s mouth so close to his own hand sent an unexpected shiver through him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The way Kei’s lips parted slightly, the slow, teasing motion of him tasting the popsicle - it felt strangely erotic. Kei looked up at him through his lashes as he hummed softly in approval, the sound vibrating in the air between them, deep and satisfying.

“Delicious,” he said, his voice hushed, almost like a private whisper just for Fuma.

Then, feigning obliviousness, the older alpha pulled back, casually licking his lips as if nothing had happened. “Thanks for letting me taste it.” 

Fuma blinked, his mind still trying to process the moment. He hadn’t expected anything like that.

“Yeah, sure, it’s no problem” He cleared his throat, his focus going back onto the popsicle that was starting to drip onto his hand again. He quickly licked the melting juice off his hand, forcing himself to just eat the damn thing like normal, trying not to think about Kei’s tongue being on the same spot just moments before.  

When Fuma and Kei finally returned to their group, the scene was full of relieved sighs and grateful smiles. Their friends were sprawled out on the grass under the shade of a nearby tree. The drinks the two alphas had picked up were quickly passed around, and before long, everyone was chugging down the cold, refreshing liquids with gusto. 

“Ugh, thank you!” Kevin groaned in approval. 

“This was lifesaving, just what I needed.” Chan held his own can up in thanks and Jiwoong beside him nodded in agreement, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah, thanks guys”

As they drank, the entire group sprawled out under the tree, sharing stories, teasing each other, and enjoying the post-game chill. But then Minho grinned, glancing at Fuma with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You know, I’m surprised you played as well as you did”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fuma glared at the other alpha. 

“With how big you are, I just expected you to get winded faster, that’s all” Minho shrugged like he wasn’t personally insulting Fuma’s athletic abilities. 

“Kei must’ve finally built up his stamina.” Hyunjae snorted, elbowing Jiwoong. 

Fuma could literally hear the wires in his brain sparking as it short-circuited. “Huh?”

Juyeon perked up immediately. "Oh, that’s true. You guys were all over each other today."

"Yeah, Kei was basically glued to Fuma the entire game." Hyunjae snickered.

“Fuma must’ve been one hell of a workout for Kei to be running around after him like that”

“What! You guys are the worst” Fuma snapped, voice half an octave higher than usual. 

Juyeon slung an arm over his shoulder. "Aw, don’t be shy. You two looked great together. It was like watching two birds perform a mating ritual”

Fuma violently shrugged him off. "We were just playing basketball, you ass."

Kevin smirked. "Like, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Kei was trying to impress you or something."

Jiwoong grinned. "Oh, he totally was."

Fuma was just about to commit murder when Kei, who had been lazily sipping his drink, laughed. 

"Can you blame me?" Kei said, sounding far too entertained. "Fuma’s fun to push around."

Fuma snapped his head toward him. "I wasn’t getting pushed around."

"You sure about that?" Kei raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Plus, if I was trying to impress him, I wouldn’t have let him win."

"You didn’t let me win; I beat your ass fair and square." The younger alpha seethed.

"If that helps you sleep at night."

The group laughed, and Fuma scowled, resisting the urge to throw his drink at his roommate's head.

“I hate all of you”

Chapter Text

“Dude, no”

“Dude, yes”

Fuma should have known better when Kei had suggested the two of them have matching costumes for the ‘Halloween Bar Crawl’ the school’s student committee was hosting. 

When Kei had first told him about how they should wear matching SWAT costumes, Fuma had assumed it would be something simple, long-sleeved shirts or jackets under tactical vests, some fake gear, nothing too dramatic. Then he actually saw the outfit and realized of course Kei had made it as revealing as possible.

The "costume" consisted of a just black tactical vest for a top, black cargo pants that showed off his ass just a bit too well, combat boots, and a few plastic accessories that were supposed to make them look like an actual SWAT team, like handcuffs and a fake gun. However, the “vest” was more like a glorified tank top with extra straps and a few fake pouches. Fuma stared at it in silence, holding it up like it had personally offended him. Kei, meanwhile, was already pulling his on, adjusting the straps, rolling his shoulders to test the fit. The vest looked sculpted to his torso, the black material cinched over the older alpha’s waist and his toned arms were fully on display. 

"Yep," Kei said, admiring himself in the mirror. "We look sick."

"I didn’t realize guys Halloween costumes could be slutty too"

"And?"

Fuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kei."

Kei turned to him, hands on his hips, smug as ever. "C’mon, Fuma. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now."

"This is stupid."

"It’s Halloween," Kei countered. "It’s supposed to be stupid."

Fuma was still hesitating, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don’t know, man."

"Fuma. Listen to me." Kei stepped closer, clapping a hand on his shoulder, eyes glinting with amusement. "You look hot in it."

Fuma nearly choked but Kei kept going, completely unbothered. "You’re jacked. You work out, and this? This shows it off. Your shoulders and arms look unreal" He gestured vaguely at the vest. "You put this on, and every omega at that party is gonna be looking at you."

Fuma groaned. "That’s not helping."

"What, don’t like the attention?" Kei smirked. “Plus, this is the only vest I could find that didn’t chafe my nipples”

When Fuma finally put it on, adjusting the straps, Kei stepped back and grinned.

"Knew it," he said, smug as hell. "You look like you walked off a damn action movie set."

Fuma rolled his eyes, but his ears felt a little warm. He grabbed his fake plastic radio, shoving it into one of the vest’s compartments. "Let’s just go before I change my mind."

Kei laughed, grabbing his toy gun holster. "Hell yeah. Let’s go save some civilians."

The moment they stepped into the first bar, heads turned. It wasn’t just the fact that they had matching outfits- though that definitely got people talking. It was the fact that, somehow, they looked the part. The black cargo pants, the snug tactical vests, the combat boots - it all fit them too well. Especially Kei. The straps sat snug against his broad shoulders, his toned arms on full display, the black cargo pants fitting too well around his waist. The whole look was too sharp, too commanding, and Fuma absolutely did not need to be noticing that. But he was, and so was everyone else. And Kei was eating it up. The moment they walked in, someone whistled.

"Damn, you can arrest me anytime”

Kei just smirked, tipping his fake radio up to his lips like he was actually responding to a mission. "All clear, over."

"Okay, wait, why do you guys actually look hot in this?" Kevin said, eyeing them up and down.

Kei just laughed, slinging an arm over Fuma’s shoulder. "Told you, man. You work out, you gotta show it off sometimes."

Their friends were dressed up as well. Minho had sprayed his hair orange and dressed like ‘Chucky’ while Chan showed off his recently dyed blonde hair and black leather jacket as his bride. Kevin was in full green makeup as ‘The Mask’ and Juyeon was dressed in robes as a Jedi and kept trying to use the force to get the waitress to bring a drink over. Hyunjae was a werewolf, apparently, in ripped flannel, jeans and messy hair - a bit lazy in Fuma’s opinion, and Jiwoong looked exactly like a Greek God in his short toga and laurel wreath in his hair. 

The group only managed to hop to three different bars before giving up - slightly too drunk and on the verge of getting annoyed with the crowds and all the walking around. They ended up at another pub, one that wasn’t on the ‘Bar Crawl’ list which meant there wasn’t a very big crowd, just a few students dressed normally and some other locals. 

“Alright, I need a victim to destroy at pool” Minho’s voice cut through the noise, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the table as he scanned the group, his gaze eventually landing on Fuma.

“You. Be my sacrifice.” Minho raised a finger to point at Fuma like he was some roman emperor deciding who would fight in the colosseum next. 

Fuma let out a short laugh, already knowing how this was going to go. Minho was relentless when it came to a challenge, and he had a way of convincing people to play, even if they didn’t want to. But he stood up anyways, grabbing his drink, then giving a slight shrug. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll be your victim,” he said with a grin, trying to sound casual, though a part of him wondered if he was just setting himself up for defeat.

Minho smirked, clearly pleased with Fuma’s response, and they both walked over to one of the tables at the far end of the bar. The green felt covered the surface like a well-worn battlefield, the edges frayed from countless games. Fuma reached for two cues from the rack by the side of the table, handing one to Minho and adjusting the grip of his own. Minho, with his usual confidence, was already racking the balls, his hands moving quickly as he set them up.

“I hope you’re ready to lose,” Minho said, his voice light but carrying a hint of playful challenge. He glanced over his shoulder at Fuma, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But don’t worry, I won’t be too hard on you.”

Fuma snorted. “I’m sure you won’t,” he replied, giving his cue a few practice swings. 

He positioned himself at one end of the table, the cue ball gleaming under the soft lighting of the bar. He focused for a moment, steadying his hands as he lined up his shot. The tension in his shoulders loosened as he concentrated, the soft click of the cue ball sending a small jolt of satisfaction through him as he made the break. The balls scattered across the table, clacking against each other with a sharp, satisfying noise. One of the solid, blue balls went into the far right corner pocket. 

Minho grinned. “Nice shot. But it’s my turn now.”

As the game continued, Fuma found himself growing more and more focused on his shots, his grip on the cue stick steady as he lined up another one. But just as he was about to take the shot, he felt a shift in the energy around him. Chan and Jiwoong had wandered over to watch, their voices already loud with playful banter about the game. Fuma glanced up, intending to exchange a comment with them, but his eyes immediately locked onto the dance floor instead.

Kevin was there, as expected, swaying to the beat of the song that had just started to play over the speakers. The beta had always loved dancing, his carefree movements infectious as he lost himself in the rhythm. But it wasn’t Kevin who made Fuma freeze for a moment. It was Kei. The older alpha with the beta.

Fuma blinked, momentarily losing track of everything around him. He had never seen Kei on the dance floor - at least not like this. The bass-heavy music pulsed through the crowded bar, low and intoxicating, the kind of beat that crawled under your skin and demanded movement. The SWAT vest clung to Kei’s torso, straps snug around his broad shoulders, the black fabric of his cargo pants sitting perfectly on his thighs as his body moved without effort, hips rolling subtly, head tilting back slightly as he lost himself to the rhythm. The bar’s lights flashed over his skin, catching the light sheen of sweat at his collarbone, illuminating the curve of his neck as he swayed.

It seemed like he was born to dance, with how natural it looked for Kei to be out there. The older alpha’s shoulders shifted, toned arms flexing when he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face before he dropped his hands back to his sides. His body still moving in sync with the music as Kei smirked slightly, eyes half-lidded, completely relaxed and totally in his element. Fuma’s grip on his cue stick tightened.

He had no idea how long he’d been staring until Minho loudly cleared his throat, breaking through the haze of Fuma’s thoughts and snapping him back to reality. Fuma’s entire body jerked in surprise as he glanced at Minho, only to find the other alpha smirking at him, a knowing glint in his eyes. And it wasn’t just a normal smirk. It was a full-on, shit-eating, I-just-caught-you-red-handed kind of smirk.

Fuma felt a flush creep up his neck, and he quickly looked away, trying to mask the sudden embarrassment. Minho didn’t have to say anything - his expression said it all. He knew exactly what, or rather who, had Fuma’s attention.

Ignoring the teasing smirk on his friend’s face, Fuma focused back on the pool table, determined not to let his mind wander again. He took a deep breath, steadying his hands, and lined up the shot with deliberate care. The sound of the cue ball striking was sharp, and he watched as it rolled across the green felt, sinking into the pocket with satisfying precision. For a moment, Fuma didn’t even hear his friends’ comments or the laughter that followed. He had blocked them all out, the only thing in his focus now the game in front of him. He refused to let Kei’s unexpected presence on the dance floor derail him again.

As the cue ball settled, Fuma took a breath and let the tension ease from his shoulders, though his heart still beat a little faster than usual. He couldn’t help but wonder if his friends would keep teasing him about it later, but for now, he pushed everything else out of his mind. There was still a game to finish.

He didn’t notice Kevin and Kei stumbling back over until they were almost on top of him. They had clearly been dancing for a while, and before Fuma could react, Kei threw an arm around his shoulder with a sudden ease, pulling him a little closer. Fuma froze, his heart thudding unexpectedly in his chest as the warmth of the older alpha’s bare arm settled against Fuma’s shoulders like a brand. The alpha was still slightly breathless from dancing, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. His skin glowed from exertion, a thin sheen of sweat along his neck catching the bar’s dim lighting.

“That was so much fun,” Kei said, his voice light and filled with laughter as he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against Fuma’s ear. “You should’ve come out there with us. It was a blast.”

Fuma felt his pulse race, trying to stay composed as Kei’s scent drifted around him. Warm. Rich. Thick in the air after the heat of dancing, stronger than it had ever been before. For a second, he was aware of nothing but the heat of Kei’s arm against him and the unexpected closeness that made his stomach flutter uncomfortably. He struggled to regain his bearings, to keep his focus on anything other than the fact that Kei’s body was pressed up against his.

“Yeah, maybe next time,” Fuma muttered, his voice sounding quieter than usual. He could feel the weight of the other alpha’s presence, the steady warmth of his body still so close to his own. Fuma shifted slightly, trying to hide the way his nerves were making him react.

Half the group went to go get more drinks as Fuma waited his turn, pool cue resting casually against his shoulder, when he felt a presence loom next to him.

"Here," Kei said, holding out a shot glass, the amber liquid shimmering under the dim bar lights. 

Fuma barely glanced at him, just giving a slight shake of his head. "I’m good."

Kei rolled his eyes. "Don’t be lame."

"I’m playing."

"Excuses."

Fuma sighed, stubbornly refusing to look at him. "I said I’m good, Kei."

But Kei just stepped closer, and strong fingers curled under Fuma’s jaw, tilting his face upward. The older alpha’s grip was firm but lazily confident in a way that shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did as he popped Fuma’s jaw open. 

Fuma’s breath hitched, heart stuttering, mind scrambling to process what the fuck was happening because Kei was still looking at him, with full, unbroken eye contact as he poured the shot straight into the younger alpha’s mouth. Fuma had no choice but to swallow, the burn of alcohol sliding down his throat.

The smirk on Kei’s lips was satisfied, sharp, and amused. "See? Not so hard."

"You’re an ass," Fuma muttered, voice rougher than he intended as his pulse pounded in his ears. 

Kei only chuckled, patting his cheek once before stepping away. "Only for you, fanboy."

Fuma gripped his cue stick tighter. He was so fucked.

Minho, unsurprisingly, kicked Fuma’s ass at pool. It wasn’t even close - a complete massacre. Fuma had spent the second half of the game losing ball after ball, missing shots he never would’ve missed sober, and yet - no one believed him when he blamed it on the booze.

"Yeah, right," Juyeon snorted, crossing his arms. " Sure, it was the alcohol."

"It’s true," Fuma argued, leaning against his cue stick. "The room is spinning a little, man."

Kevin laughed. "The only thing spinning is your excuse."

Fuma was leaning against a bar stool, his arms crossed loosely as he watched Chan and Jiwoong start their own game of pool. The sound of clinking balls and playful banter filled the air, and Fuma laughed as Chan somehow managed to jump his ball over the one he was trying to hit, sending it flying towards the wrong end of the table. 

It happened fast. One second, Minho was laughing at something stupid Chan said, his drink halfway to his mouth. The next, some drunken idiot stumbled through the crowd, crashing straight into Minho from behind and made him spill his beer all over himself. Beer splashed down Minho’s front, soaking into his shirt, trickling cold against his skin

“Shit,” Minho hissed, pulling his damp shirt away from his skin.

The guy - some random alpha, reeking of booze and bad decisions - barely even looked at Minho, didn’t acknowledge the mess he’d made before turning back toward his own friends like it was nothing. And that was a problem because Minho didn’t let shit like that slide. 

“Hey,” Minho called, stepping forward. His scent - figs and white wood - sharpened. “You’re not even gonna apologize?”

The random alpha turned back, brows raising. “For what?”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “For knocking into me, dumbass.”

Chan, always the voice of reason, was already stepping in, placing a hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Babe, let’s just -” But Minho shrugged him off.

“I’m serious,” Minho continued, arms crossed. “You gonna say something, or do I need to make you?”

The drunk alpha just scoffed, dismissing him. "Relax, man. It’s just a drink."

Fuma sighed. He knew exactly where this was going.

The other alpha’s scent spiked, his posture shifting. He was drunk, cocky, and clearly not the type to back down. The tension snapped the second Minho lunged. His fist connected with the drunk alpha’s jaw, sending the guy stumbling back, shock flashing across his face before his instincts kicked in. And just like that, chaos erupted.

The guy’s friends jumped in without hesitation, and Minho was ready. The bar was suddenly a mess of bodies moving fast, tables scraping against the floor as people scrambled to either join or get the hell out of the way. And then, like an idiot, one of the guy’s friends decided to step in. With a shove. Right into Kei.

The movement was so fast - one second Kei was standing there beside Fuma, completely relaxed, and the next, his body stumbled slightly with the impact. And, well, Fuma wasn’t gonna let some drunk idiot shove his best friend and walk away. His body moved before his brain did. His fist connected before he even thought about it. A deep oomph left the guy’s mouth as he doubled over, but Fuma wasn’t done. His knuckles cracked against the guy’s ribs next, a sharp, solid impact that sent him crashing into the nearest table.

A familiar rush filled Fuma’s body. His blood pounded in his veins, his limbs felt light, fast, alive. It had been a while since he’d been in a real fight, but it was just like riding a bike.

Fuma ducked as one of the guys swung at him, easily stepping out of the way before shoving forward, sending the guy stumbling. Jiwoong was already throwing a punch at another one, Juyeon was laughing as he dodged a wild swing, and Minho…  Minho looked like he was having the time of his life. Chan, meanwhile, was not.

“Minho, you asshole!” Chan yelled, dodging around bodies, trying to grab his mate. “This is exactly why we got banned from the other bar!”

Minho just grinned, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “Not my fault, babe.”

Fuma snorted before turning his attention back to Kei. The older alpha didn’t throw the first punch, but when the next guy came swinging, sloppy and slow, he dodged effortlessly as he countered, landing a solid hit to the guy’s jaw. Then, someone grabbed him from behind, so he twisted, grabbing the guy’s wrist and using his own weight against him before flipping him onto the table. The impact sent bottles clattering, glass shattering onto the floor.

Minho let out a whoop. “That’s my boy!”

The moment Fuma slammed the guy to the ground, Kei saw everything in slow motion. Something sharp, something strange, something curling low in his stomach that had nothing to do with adrenaline and everything to do with Fuma.

The way Fuma’s body moved without hesitation, how fast he reacted, the controlled power in his grip, the sheer force of his presence… damn, it was hot.  Kei had been in plenty of fights before. He knew how to handle himself, and had thrown his fair share of punches, but watching the younger alpha move like that, like nothing could touch him, it made his heart skip a beat. Because this was Fuma . Quiet, solid, unshakable Fuma. The same Fuma who let his presence speak louder than his words, the one who never felt the need to prove himself. And now, Fuma had just taken a guy down for him without hesitating. Bouncers shouting made reality snap back into place, but Kei’s heart was still pounding. 

Hands grabbed at Fuma’s arms, dragging him back. More security shoved their way through the fight, breaking up the remaining scuffles, barking at people to get out. And that’s when Fuma heard the sharp, unmistakable sound of police sirens wailing outside.

Shit. His head snapped up, searching for his friends.

Minho and Chan were already backing toward the exit, Kevin and Hyunjae pulling Juyeon and Jiwoong along. Fuma barely had time to think before a hand grabbed his wrist.

"Run." Kei yanked him forward, and Fuma followed without question, feet pounding against the floor as they tore through the crowd. Bodies shoved against them, people scrambling for the exits, voices blurring together in a mess of panic and adrenaline.

Laughter mixed with panting breaths as the group sprinted down the streets, their shoes hitting the pavement hard. The rush of the fight, the alcohol in their blood, the thrill of getting away - it all blurred together into something wild, something reckless. Fuma’s lungs burned, legs aching, heart hammering in his chest but Kei never let his hand go. Even as they cut through the alleyway beside the bar, even as they dodged past a row of parked bikes, even as they finally skidded to a stop three blocks down.

Once they stopped, Fuma let himself finally breathe. His skin was buzzing, his muscles still thrumming with energy. It must be an ancient alpha instinct that still lingered because fighting always did that to him - it was messy, exhilarating, something raw and instinctual that made him feel sharp and present.

“Thanks for having my back,” Kei winked, his shoulder nudging Fuma’s. 

“That’s what any friend would do,” he said simply.

The group chat was a mess. Fuma’s phone vibrated non-stop in his pocket as he and Kei stumbled through the quiet streets, on-route to their apartment, their arms slung lazily around each other’s shoulders.

Minho:

that was fucking INSANE

did u guys see fuma flip that douche onto the table??

Juyeon:

didn’t realize i was friends with fucking bruce lee

Kevin:

i can’t believe we actually had to run from the cops

Hyunjae:

you mean YOU had to run

i walked out like a normal person

Juyeon:

bro we were throwing punches

there was nothing normal about it

Chan:

please tell me everyone got out safely??

Jiwoong:

no i got arrested, this is my one call

Chan:

i stg…

Kei snorted, reading over Fuma’s shoulder. "Jiwoong’s an idiot."

"Yeah," Fuma chuckled, typing out a quick reply.

Fuma:

we’re good. heading home now

Kevin:

oooh together? 👀

Fuma:

we do live together u dumbass

Hyunjae:

kei dragging his knight in shining armour home

how romantic 💕

Fuma just rolled his eyes, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

The city was quiet this late at night, a stark contrast to the bar’s chaos just minutes ago. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic, the occasional laughter of students still lingering outside, and the soft crunch of their footsteps on the pavement.  The adrenaline was finally wearing off, replaced with the comfortable buzz of alcohol and exhaustion. Kei and Fuma leaned into each other as they walked, neither bothering to let go.

"Can’t believe you took that guy down like that," Kei mused after a moment, his voice low, amused.

Fuma shrugged, his cheek almost brushing against Kei’s shoulder. "He was coming for you."

Kei hummed. "Still. You moved fast."

"Yeah, well." Fuma let out a slow breath, his body finally relaxing after all the madness. "Guess I wasn’t gonna let you get hit."

Fuma could feel the other alpha’s gaze lingering, something too unreadable in the way he was looking at him. Then Kei chuckled, bumping their heads together lightly.

"Good to know my knight in shining armor is also a menace in a bar fight."

Fuma huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Shut up."

Kei just laughed harder, the younger alpha joining in.

By the time they reached their apartment building, their steps were sluggish, their bodies too relaxed, still lingering in that space between buzzed and exhausted. Kei fumbled with his keys, missing the lock twice before Fuma finally snatched them from him.

"Jesus," Fuma muttered, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "You’re useless."

Kei just grinned, brushing past him into the apartment, letting Fuma kick the door shut behind him. Their apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the a/c unit. 

Fuma had barely walked into the kitchen to get himself some water when Kei’s fingers brushed his jaw, thumb grazing over a spot near his cheekbone.

"Got hit here," Kei murmured, his eyes unusually dark. "Does it hurt?"

Fuma swallowed. "Not really."

Kei let his fingers linger for a second before finally stepping back. “Why don’t I believe you?”

The younger alpha’s knuckles were apparently bleeding slightly too because the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the kitchen counter, his hands resting on his thighs as he watched Kei rummage through one of the drawers, pulling out their small first aid kit.

"You don’t have to do this," Fuma muttered, flexing his fingers. His knuckles ached, skin raw from hitting too many things too hard.

Kei barely glanced at him. "Shut up and let me be a good roommate for once."

Fuma huffed a laugh but didn’t argue.  Kei returned to him, the small box of medical supplies dropping onto the counter with a soft thud. His movements were unusually gentle, careful in a way that felt almost unnatural coming from him, as he unzipped the kit, pulling out antiseptic wipes and bandages. He grabbed Fuma’s wrist before the younger could react, turning his hand over to inspect the damage.

Kei wasn’t always a gentle person - not when he trained, and definitely not when he was playing soccer. But he was gentle when he tore open a wipe packet and wiped the damp cloth against Fuma’s hand. The sting was immediate, the antiseptic burning against his raw knuckles. Fuma sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kei murmured, not looking up. "It sucks."

The alpha’s grip was firm but not forceful, his fingers curled just enough around Fuma’s wrist to keep him still. He dabbed at the broken skin with a frustrating amount of patience, wiping away dried blood, smoothing over each bruise with quiet concentration. But the younger alpha’s gaze wasn’t on his own hand, it was on his roommate. The way his brows furrowed slightly. The way his lips parted just a little as he focused. The way his eyes flicked back and forth, scanning for more damage.

Once Kei was done cleaning, he reached for the bandages. His touch lingered longer than necessary, fingertips brushing over Fuma’s palm before wrapping the thin strip of gauze around his skin. 

Fuma exhaled through his nose. "I’m not dying, you know."

Kei smirked, securing the bandage with a small clip. "Yeah, well. Can’t have my number one fan all bruised up."

The dark look was out of his eyes, replaced with something lighter, something softer that made Fuma feel way too warm for someone who had just gotten into a bar fight.

A few days after the bar brawl, the group decided to meet up for something a little less violent - a friendly game of soccer. Nothing serious, just for them to have fun before the team’s final qualifying game on Saturday. The sky was a crisp, endless blue, the kind of clear autumn afternoon that felt unusual for early November. The air still held a slight chill, but the sun was warm, stretching golden light across the field as Fuma and the rest of the group made their way onto the turf.

"This weather's weird," Kevin said, stretching his arms over his head. "Feels like it should be way colder by now."

"Global warming," Minho muttered, rolling a soccer ball beneath his foot. "Let’s enjoy it while we can."

Fuma breathed in deeply, taking in the mix of fresh air and the faint scent of grass warmed by the sun. It was rare to get a day like this in November, and they weren’t about to waste it. 

“Hey Rocky, how’s your hand?” Hyunjae asked, pretending to throw a few jabs at Fuma.

The younger alpha glanced down at the knuckles on his right hand. The bandage Kei had put on came off yesterday, leaving just a slight ache and already healing skin. 

“Scabby.” He showed his friend his hand, flexing his fingers to prove their health. 

“I was thinking, we should start a school fight club. What do you think? You’ll be the main fighter, and I’ll collect the admissions fee of course, and we could even - hey!” Hyunjae yelped as Fuma’s hands shot out, grabbing the back of his sweater and dragging it over the other alpha’s head, rendering him blind. 

“No spilling blood on my field please,” Kei sighed as he walked by, holding a soccer ball under one arm and two colours of pinnies. “Everyone gather up so we can split the teams”

Fuma let go of Hyunjae, the older boy pulling his sweater back over his head with a pout. Fuma just laughed, clapping him on the back and dragging him over to where everyone was gathering.

Kei and Minho had immediately declared themselves team captains, deciding their choosing order by playing a single round of rock, paper, scissors, which Kei won.  He kept the red pinnies while throwing the pile of dark blue mesh at Minho. Before anyone could even suggest anything, Kei turned to Fuma and threw the red pinnie at him.

"You’re with me."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Oh? That fast?"

Kei just smirked, rolling his shoulders. "What? I know talent when I see it."

Fuma huffed a quiet laugh, pulling the mesh sports vest over his top. "You just don’t want me beating you."

Kei tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Exactly."

Fuma snorted but didn’t argue. Because honestly? He absolutely wasn’t going to complain about being on Kei’s team instead of playing against him.

"You two are so predictable." Minho rolled his eyes, spinning the ball between his hands. “I guess that means I should pick Chan first then. Chan, get your ass over here”

“Jeez, thanks babe. I can really hear the excitement in your voice” Chan sighed, going to his mate’s side who slapped his butt in greeting.

They went back and forth, calling out names, stacking their teams with whoever they thought could help them win.

“Jiwoong,” Kei nodded his head at the other player. 

“Juyeon,” Minho waved the alpha over. 

“Who should we pick next?” Kei leaned down to whisper in Fuma’s ear. 

“Hyunjae,” The younger alpha answered, and Kei nodded, repeating the choice out loud. 

“Wow, last choice. Thanks guys” Kevin pouted, going to Minho’s team and standing beside Juyeon who patted him reassuringly. 

"Alright," Minho said, rubbing his hands together as he eyed the remaining players. The rest were much more level in skill because they were actually on the team. "Time to even things out."

He turned to Seonghwa, one of the only omegas on the varsity team. "You’re with me. You can be in net ‘cause I know your knee is still fucked"

Minho immediately grabbed San. "Fine, I’m taking this menace then."

San just grinned, clearly thrilled to be dragged into the rivalry.

Fuma stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching as they went back and forth, strategically choosing teammates like this was a professional draft. It was getting ridiculous.

"You guys know this is just a pick-up game, right?" Mark asked, amused but also slightly unimpressed. He just wanted to get the game started. 

Kei shot him a smug grin. "Yeah. But it’s also about pride."

Minho pointed aggressively. "Exactly."

Winwin sighed. "You two need therapy."

"No, we need to win," Kei corrected, shooting the beta a lazy grin. "Which is why you’re on my team."

By the time teams were fully formed, it was half-friend group, half-random people from the soccer team who had joined in for fun. Kei stood at the front of their lineup, hands on his hips, looking annoyingly confident.

"Alright, let’s make this quick," he said. "I wanna crush Minho’s team before the sun goes down."

Minho flipped him off, the game finally ready to start. 

As soon as the ball hit the ground, the group was in the zone. The game was meant to be casual, but between Kei’s natural competitive streak and Minho’s refusal to lose, it didn’t take long before things turned intense.

It was clear the rest of the team was feeding off the team captain’s competitive vibes because it wasn’t long before Jiwoong sent a perfect pass up the field, Winwin stole it cleanly from under Minho, dodging past San with annoying ease. Even Yunho wasn’t holding back at all, sprinting down the field like he was playing in an actual tournament with Changmin chasing after him. 

"Why is he so fast?" Fuma muttered as Changmin dodged through two defenders like it was nothing.

"Changmin doesn’t get tired," Jiwoong said, completely deadpan.

“He’s like if you let a squirrel consume a bag of cocaine.” Hyunjae groaned, already breathing heavily.

Fuma was surprisingly keeping up, at least for someone who’s never played a day of school-organized sports a day in his life. Their team was working well together. Their plays felt effortless, quick passes, clean footwork, and unspoken coordination that had the other team grumbling under their breath.

At one point, Kevin tried to intercept a pass, but Kei flicked it behind him at the last second - a perfect pass right to Fuma’s feet. He took the ball, saw an opening and dodged Minho, before sending the ball straight into the net. The moment it hit, Kei whooped loudly, jogging up to Fuma and clapping a hand on his back.

"Knew you had it in you."

Fuma exhaled, shaking his head. "You say that like it wasn’t an easy shot."

Kei chuckled, eyes flickering over him with something warm, unreadable. "Nah. I just trust you."

Before he could respond, Minho’s loud voice broke through the moment.

"STOP BEING DISGUSTINGLY IN SYNC," he yelled from across the field. "SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO PLAY AN ACTUAL GAME."

Fuma turned to glare at him, but Kei just laughed, slinging an arm over the younger alpha’s shoulder as they walked back toward the center of the field.

The game was going well. Fuma was in the zone, feeling comfortable, steady, working alongside Kei and the rest of his team like they’d been playing together for years. It was a fast-paced play, the kind where everything happened in a blur of movement, footwork, and instinct. Changmin had the ball, cutting through their defense, sharp and controlled. Fuma stepped up to challenge him, ready to intercept, already predicting the next move. The beta made one tiny, quick fake to the left, and Fuma - completely convinced - bit on it hard.

Which would’ve been fine. Except Changmin wasn’t actually going left. He went right.

Fuma’s entire balance betrayed him. His foot caught the ground wrong, his center of gravity tilted at the worst possible angle, and before he could even think about recovering, he was falling.  A full, slow-motion, dramatic wipeout onto the turf.

"OH MY GOD."

Fuma heard the laughter before he even hit the ground fully. He laid flat on his back, staring up at the blindingly blue November sky, as he took a deep breath, processing what just happened. A shadow loomed over him, and there was Kei, hands on his hips, grinning down at him.

"Well," Kei said, smug as hell, "that was embarrassing."

Fuma shut his eyes. "Don’t talk to me."

From the sidelines, Minho was wheezing. Kevin looked like he was about to fall over laughing, and even Juyeon had his hands on his knees, catching his breath from how hard he was laughing at Fuma’s suffering.

"You good, bro?" Yunho called out, half concerned, half entertained.

"I’m fine," Fuma muttered, still flat on his back.

Kei grinned, crouching down beside him, arms resting on his knees. "You sure? Looked like you died for a second there."

Fuma exhaled, dragging a hand over his face. "I hate this game."

Kei laughed, then reached out a hand. "C’mon, get up. You’re ruining our intimidation factor."

Fuma reluctantly took it, letting Kei pull him up, too aware of how easily Kei handled his weight, the way his grip lingered for a half-second longer than necessary.

“You sure you’re okay?” Kei’s voice was low in his ear, his hand brushing against Fuma’s side that had taken the brunt of the fall. 

“Yeah, only my pride is hurt,” Fuma sighed. 

By the time he was standing again, he could still hear Minho muttering to himself through laughter. "Man, I wish I got that on video."

Fuma turned to glare. "Shut up, Minho."

Kei clapped him on the back, still grinning. "Don’t worry, fanboy. You’ll recover."

Near the end of the game, the score was tight. Fuma could feel the adrenaline settling in his bones, the soreness creeping into his legs, but he wasn’t tired yet. Not when the game was still tied.

"Alright," Juyeon called, wiping sweat off his forehead, "next goal wins."

Minho scoffed. "You just want an excuse to stop running."

"Yeah, and?"

Kei smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Fine by me. Let’s finish this."

Fuma exhaled sharply, shaking out his arms, focusing on the ball as Seonghwa lined up for the restart.

The moment the game resumed, it was fast. A blur of movement and instinct, players dodging past each other, the ball moving quickly between feet. Fuma stayed in sync with Kei, matching his pace without thinking, their teamwork sharp and almost automatic.

At one point, Juyeon nearly broke through their defense, but Fuma sprinted back just in time, stealing the ball cleanly before spinning and immediately passing it off to Kei. Kei barely looked before kicking it forward, sending it straight toward Changmin, who took off down the field. The entire game shifted into a breakaway.

Everyone was moving fast, scrambling for control, but the moment Changmin passed it back toward Kei, Fuma already knew. This was it. Kei caught the ball cleanly, took two quick steps, and then the ball soared, cutting through the air in a perfect arc, curving just out of reach of Mark’s hands. 

The ball hit the back of the net, and for a brief moment, the entire field erupted into chaos - a mix of groans, cheers, and dramatic reactions.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Minho threw his hands up.

Kevin collapsed onto the grass, groaning. "I’m never running that much again."

Kei let out a loud, victorious yell, throwing his arms up as he took off running. "LET'S GO!"

Fuma could only laugh as Kei ripped his jersey up over his head, running across the field like a professional athlete who had just scored a championship goal. Sweat glistened on the alpha’s skin, his abs flexing under the sun as he ran. 

The younger alpha knew he was in trouble when Kei turned back towards him, running straight at him. Fuma barely had time to curse or react before he was knocked on his back, grass beneath him, Kei’s weight pressing down against him.

"MVP! MVP! MVP!" Hyunjae cheered, piling onto them.

"DOGPILE!" Jiwoong yelled, and moments later the rest of the team was crashing into them too.

Fuma let out a pained groan as Winwin, Seonghwa, and Changmin also collapsed on top of them, voices overlapping in cheers and laughter. Even Minho threw himself down on top, but most likely just to make Fuma suffer further. 

"Get off me, you assholes!" Fuma grunted, trying to push Changmin’s bony-ass elbow out of his ribs.

Kei was still half-straddling him, laughing into the crook of his arm, his entire body vibrating with victory energy.

"If I suffocate under here, I’m haunting all of you," Fuma muttered, still pinned beneath multiple layers of sweaty teammates.

Minho snorted. "You’d die happy."

Fuma attempted to kick his shin but accidentally hit Hyunjae instead. 

“OW! Hey, I’m on your team!”

The dogpile chaos slowly unraveled, teammates rolling off one by one, voices still buzzing with excitement, laughter echoing across the field. Eventually, the weight pressing down on Fuma disappeared, the others stumbling to their feet, still catching their breath. Fuma didn’t move, trying to catch his breath still, and neither did Kei.

For a moment, they just lay there, sprawled out on the grass, side by side, panting and laughing, staring up at the bright blue November sky. The sky stretched endlessly above them, bright blue, not a cloud in sight. The warmth of the sun seeped into Fuma’s skin, the cool grass grounding him after the chaos of the game. His chest rose and fell, his heartbeat still racing from the adrenaline of the game, from the thrill of winning, from everything.

Beside him, Kei let out a slow, content sigh, turning his head slightly toward him. "That was fun."

Kei’s messy, sweat-damp hair stuck to his forehead, the edges curling slightly from the moisture. The November sun cast a golden glow over his skin, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his throat, the way his lips parted just slightly as he exhaled and turning the strands of his hair a soft shade of light brown. His compression shirt clung to his torso, still damp from the game, black fabric stretched over his chest, outlining the muscles beneath. The sleeves were pushed up, revealing his forearms, the veins along his wrists faintly visible.

Kei looked completely at peace, stretched out in the grass like he belonged to the sun itself. And in that exact moment, Fuma felt a small part of him cracking open further, a seed planted in the depths of chest, barely noticed and already growing. 

The younger alpha exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, it was" he admitted, voice breathless. "I’m just waiting for you to admit that I carried"

Kei laughed, the sound rich and soaked in sunlight. "You wish."

They stayed there a little longer than necessary, the sun warm against their skin, the cool grass beneath them grounding them after the high of the game. The sounds of their teammates moving around the field, joking and chatting, felt distant - background noise to the strange, quiet moment just between them.

Kei shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing against Fuma’s. The younger alpha didn’t pull away from the heat of the other’s arm, instead, he just stared up at the sky, trying to ignore the way his chest felt too full, too warm, too… something.

Chapter Text

Being in the same program meant that Kei and Fuma inevitably shared a few classes together. That also meant they would try and pair up to work together as often as possible - it was easy to work together when you lived together. The professor would announce a partnered assignment, and before anyone else even had a chance to look their way - Kei and Fuma had already made eye contact, barely a second passing before one of them gave a small nod. Done deal.

One of their classes this semester was a clinical physical therapy course. Which meant they had to learn how to assess a client, diagnose movement issues, and apply corrective techniques. Because this class was so hands-on, that meant a lot of partner work. 

Their classroom was in the sports rehabilitation section of the University's large gym building. It was a open, spacious room with a handful of padded treatment tables with wooden frames spaced out around the room. Their professor, Dr. Kaylin, stood at the front of the class, arms crossed as she scanned the room.

"Since this is a hands-on assessment class, you’ll be pairing up and taking turns acting as the Physical Therapist and the client. Your goal? Figure out what’s causing your partner’s ‘ailment’ and come up with a corrective plan."

The professed hadn't even finished speaking before Kei, standing next to him, nudged him with his elbow and smirked.

Once Dr. Kaylin was done explaining what they should be writing down for notes during their assessments, she let the class move towards where several tables were set up around the large room. 

Kei flopped down onto the therapy table near one of the corners of the room, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Alright, doc," he teased, smirking up at Fuma. "What’s wrong with me?"

Fuma grabbed his clipboard, ignoring the completely unnecessary way Kei was lounging like this was a damn vacation.

"You tell me," Fuma said, tapping his pen against the clipboard. "Any pain? Tightness? Limited mobility?"

Kei snickered. "Emotionally or physically?"

Fuma resisted the urge to smack him with the clipboard. "Physically."

Kei hummed, pretending to think. "Let’s say… lower back stiffness. Probably from all those game-winning goals."

Fuma exhaled slowly. "You’re insufferable."

"Still waiting for my diagnosis, doc."

Fuma sighed and got to work.

"Alright, sit up," Fuma instructed, and Kei obliged, swinging his legs over the side of the table, facing away from the younger alpha.

Fuma placed his hands at Kei’s lower back, pressing lightly along the quadratus lumborum - the deep muscle on both sides of the lower spine that connected the pelvis to the lower ribs, checking for any sensitivity, or muscle that feels rigid to touch. 

"Anything feel off?" he asked, trying to keep this as professional as possible.

Kei hummed, glancing over his shoulder. "Nah, but your hands are kinda rough. You should moisturize more"

Fuma’s hands paused for half a second. Then, without responding, he pressed a little harder than necessary.

"Ow," Kei snorted. "Violence won’t fix me, fanboy."

Fuma ignored him, continuing his feeling of Kei’s tense muscles. His fingers ran vertically along both sides of the alpha’s upper to lower back, feeling the spinal extensors. He moved his fingers in circles, trying to push out the slight knot he felt. 

"Enjoying yourself back there?" The older alpha teased, shooting him a lazy smirk over his shoulder.

Fuma pulled back with a sigh. "Kei, shut up. I’m trying to focus"

Kei just laughed, swinging his legs again. "You’re blushing."

"I’m not."

"You totally are."

Fuma clenched his jaw, grabbing his pen. "Go back to laying down on your back please."

Kei wiggled his brows. "So you can touch me some more? Without even taking me to dinner first?"

The noise of Fuma smacking Kei with the clipboard echoed in the room, making their professor look towards him suspiciously. The younger alpha quickly pretended to be writing something down, ignoring Kei’s giggles. 

After another 10 minutes, Fuma came up with some bullshit diagnosis that Kei pulled his back playing soccer and demanded that they switch roles. 

"Alright," Kei said, grinning way too much as he plucked the clipboard from Fuma’s hands. "Lie down."

Fuma hesitated because suddenly, the realization hit him - Kei was about to touch him. He was already way too aware of Kei as it was, and now he had to let the other alpha’s hands be on him? Yeah. Bad idea. But at this point, there was no backing out, so Fuma exhaled sharply, clenching his jaw, and lowered himself onto the table.

Kei stood over him, stretching his hands like he was about to perform life-saving surgery.

"Alright," The older alpha murmured, eyes scanning over Fuma way too critically. "Where’s the problem?"

"You."

“Your legs are sore, you said?” Kei nodded, writing something down on the clipboard before tossing it to the bottom of the table. “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with," Kei murmured, his hands hovering over Fuma’s legs.

The alpha pressed his thumbs into Fuma’s thigh muscles, right along the quadriceps, applying just the right amount of pressure before kneading his thumbs deeper, following the defined muscle lines, working out whatever tension Fuma had. His hands moved lower, pressing along the line of the inner portion of Fuma’s quad near his knee.

"Woah, you’re really tight," Kei mused, pressing deeper into the muscle. 

Fuma’s entire brain shut down. 

"Can you, like, not say it like that" Fuma muttered, staring at the ceiling, trying to pretend this was just a normal, professional session and not a complete and utter disaster.

Kei just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "What? Just making a professional observation."

The older alpha shifted his grip, sliding one hand to Fuma’s knee, the other pressing into his inner thigh, adjusting the position so he could stretch it properly. Long, slightly rough fingers slide over the curve of Fuma’s hamstrings, pressing into the back of his thighs.

Fuma sucked in a breath, suddenly too aware of everything - the warmth of the other alpha’s hands, the slow, deliberate way his fingers lingered, pressing into Fuma’s thigh like he was memorizing the shape of the muscle.

"Relax, fanboy," Kei said, still working out the tension like he wasn’t saying things that were ruining Fuma’s life. "You’re acting like this is your first time getting stretched out."

Fuma clenched his fists. "Would you shut the fuck up"

Kei just ignored him, adjusting the other’s leg and shifting his grip to slip under the hem of Fuma's shorts, press his thumb deeper into the adductors, the tight inner muscles of Fuma’s thighs.

A sharp exhale - just barely edged with sound, something caught between a sigh and a groan - escaped Fuma’s mouth. It wasn’t loud, not obvious, but enough for Kei to hear it. For half a second, the older alpha’s hands stilled, his grip tightening slightly, his gaze flickering up toward Fuma’s face. Fuma’s entire body went rigid. He immediately cleared his throat, trying to cover it up, but it was too late, Kei was already smirking.

Instead of pulling away, Kei’s hands shifted slightly, gripping his thigh more firmly, thumb digging in just right, right over the muscle, right where it was sensitive. Fuma bit the inside of his cheek so hard it nearly hurt. His breath hitched, his body tensing involuntarily under Kei’s hands, the stretch sending a sharp pull of relief through his leg.

"Relax Fuma," Kei murmured, voice low, teasing. 

Fuma gritted his teeth, refusing to make a sound. Kei’s fingers rolled slow, careful circles into his thigh, his other hand keeping the stretch steady, deep, pushing right into that threshold between pain and pleasure.

"Kei." It was meant to be a warning, but it came out too breathy, too much like a plea. All he could think was ‘thank god i’m not an omega’.

The older alpha hummed in response, shifting slightly, eyes sharp and focused like he wanted to do something else before realizing they were still in class, surrounded by other students. He finished the stretch before patting Fuma’s leg like this was all completely normal.

"See? All better," Kei smiled. "And I didn’t even have to buy you dinner first."

By the time lunch rolled around, Fuma had almost convinced himself that Kei was going to bring up what happened in their clinical class. Kei wasn’t the type to let things go, especially things that he could tease Fuma about for weeks. And yet when they met up for their usual afternoon workout, Kei said nothing. Not a single word about the stretch, the moan, or the way Fuma had basically fled the classroom like his life depended on it once the professor dismissed them.

The older alpha just showed up at the gym like normal, dressed in a loose tank top and athletic shorts, giving Fuma a casual nod as he dropped his gym bag onto the floor.

"Chest day?" Kei asked, stretching his arms overhead.

That was it? Just moving on like nothing happened? Fuma swallowed, exhaling sharply as he forced himself to nod.

"Yeah," he muttered, grabbing a towel and slinging it over his shoulder. "Let’s do it."

Everything felt almost too normal. They warmed up, stretched, spotted each other on the bench press - it was all routine, all exactly the same as any other day. But Fuma was still hyper-aware. Not just of Kei, but of himself. Of the way his body tensed every time Kei got too close, of the way his mind kept flashing back to earlier that afternoon, of the way his ears kept waiting for the teasing remark that never came. It made him feel… nervous.

The post-workout cooldown consisted of what it always did - a quick stretch, a shower, then on with their day. Except, of course things couldn’t be that simple. Because when Fuma and Kei made their way to the locker room showers, they immediately saw the problem. Half of the showers were either taken, and the other half had signs on them saying they were closed for repairs.

Fuma ran a hand through his sweaty hair, exhaling through his nose. "Great."

Kei hummed, scanning the situation. "Looks like we’ve got two options."

Fuma glanced at him. "And those are?"

"One of us showers first, the other waits."

"And the second?"

Kei unzipped his gym bag, smirking. "We just share."

Fuma blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"Excuse me? " Fuma muttered, hoping he’d heard wrong.

Kei shrugged, completely unbothered. "What? We’ve showered together before."

Fuma narrowed his eyes. "In the stadium communal showers. Where there was 2 feet of space between us."

Kei waved him off. "Same concept."

"Absolutely not."

Kei tilted his head, smirking. "Why? Afraid?"

Fuma scowled. "I just have standards."

Kei laughed, crossing his arms. "Look, you’ve got class after this. I don’t. If we take turns, I’ll fight you to go first and then you’re gonna be late."

Fuma clenched his jaw because sure, Kei was right, but also, was he actually serious right now?

"You really don’t care?"

"Nah. I’ve got nothing to hide. You?"

Fuma did, in fact, have something to hide. That something being the fact that he was already too hyper aware of Kei all the time now, and the idea of being naked in the same shower with him was making his brain fry.

Kei was watching him expectantly, waiting for his answer, as Fuma weighed his two choices:

1️. Stand here arguing like an idiot until he ran out of time and missed class.

2️. Just do it.

…Shit.

Fuma groaned, rubbing his temples. "Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with."

As Kei began to peel off his sweat-soaked clothes, Fuma tried his best not to stare too openly. He couldn't help but admire the way Kei's musculature rippled beneath his skin as he moved, each movement highlighting the definition and power coiled within the older alpha's frame.

Fuma swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. He quickly averted his gaze as Kei's lower half came into view, his eyes catching on the waistband of Kei's underwear. Fuma caught a glimpse of the prominent bulge straining against the fabric, and he felt an unfamiliar heat start to pool low in his belly.

It’s fine. It’s just a shower. It’s not a big deal. Fuma repeated to himself as he stripped down, throwing his towel over the metal hook before stepping in the stall. 

The hot spray of water had a low groan escaping his lips as the heat penetrated his sore, overworked muscles. He tilted his head back, allowing the water to run over his face and through his hair as his eyes fluttered shut. The warmth was relaxing, soothing the aches and pains accumulated over their vigorous workout. The shower curtain rustled from behind him, and he moved aside to make room for Kei, his heart pounding as the taller alpha brushed past him.

Kei’s tall, lean frame towered over Fuma, broad shoulders and muscular back glistening with rivulets of water. Fuma's gaze flicked over Kei's back, the way the water coursed through the valleys and peaks of his defined muscles. Fuma snapped his eyes upward, determined to maintain some semblance of propriety. 

The air thick and humid around them and Fuma could feel the heat radiating off Kei's body, the warmth of the spray mingling with the warm scent emanating from the older alpha. The shower stall was small, not so small that they were completely pressed against each other but close enough that every time they moved, every time one of them reached for the soap, every time they switched places under the water - they brushed against each other. Fuma hoped desperately that the steam and spray of the shower will hide the blush he feels creeping across his cheeks. For a few seconds, it was silent, just the sound of water hitting tile, steam curling around them.

“See, this isn’t so bad, huh?” Kei asked, his voice close from over Fuma’s shoulder. 

Fuma gritted his teeth, rubbing shampoo through his hair. “Yeah, sure”

In reality, Fuma was terrified to turn around because the moment he did, he knew he’d have to see Kei, standing there, wet, and muscles flexing under the water looking like he came straight from a goddamn porno.

Kei reached for the bottle of conditioner sitting on the ledge, and in doing so, he brushed against Fuma’s back - a slow, unintentional slide of damp skin against skin, Kei’s forearm skimming the curve of Fuma’s waist.

Fuma tried his hardest to maintain control over his scent, not wanting Kei to detect even a hint of his growing interest. He focused intently on lathering up his body with soap, breathing through his mouth to avoid inhaling Kei's intoxicating, musky aroma but quickly found himself struggling to reach the middle of his back. His muscular arms could only reach so far, and the more he tried, the more he felt his muscles start to cramp. 

Through his peripheral vision, Fuma saw Kei dispense a generous amount of his own soap onto his large, calloused hands. Before Fuma could utter a word of protest, he felt those hands, slick with suds, come to rest on his own shoulders. The shorter alpha tensed slightly as he felt Kei's soapy hands make contact with his back, the older alpha's touch sending an unexpected shiver down his spine. Kei's strong hands began to massage and cleanse Fuma's broad shoulders and muscular back, his thumbs working into the tight knots accumulated from their intense training session.

Fuma had to bite back a moan as Kei's strong fingers kneaded and massaged, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the raw power coiled within those hands. He could feel the heat of Kei's hands, and it made his head spin with a dizzying rush of desire and his stomach flip. 

He startled, jumping slightly like he was electrocuted, when he felt Kei's fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above his tailbone. The sudden, intimate touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core, and he found himself stumbling forward, desperate to put some distance between them. Kei watched with a hint of amusement and satisfaction as Fuma quickly rinsed the suds from his body, a deep blush coloring his pale skin.

"I... I have to go," Fuma muttered, unable to meet Kei's eyes as he brushed past him and stepped out of the shower. "The shower is all yours." With that, Fuma grabbed a towel and fled, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"See you at home," Kei called out, a playful lilt to his voice.

Fuma barely made it out of the shower alive. Physically? He was fine. Mentally? A complete fucking mess. He quickly dried off and dressed in record time, needing to put as much clothing and distance between himself and Kei as possible. 

He had to get a grip, had to figure out a way to control these feelings that threatened to consume him. But even as he fled the locker room, Fuma could feel the ghost of Kei's touch lingering on his skin. The mere thought made his heart race, and his palms sweat, and Fuma knew with a sense of dread that he was in deep, deep trouble.

He had never reacted this way to another alpha before, and he certainly never expected it to happen with his best friend, of all people. Kei was different, and the knowledge terrified and thrilled Fuma in equal measure. He didn't know why Kei affected him so profoundly, but he knew he couldn't let it happen again. 

And the worst part? Kei wasn’t even doing anything on purpose. He was just existing. And somehow, that was enough to completely mess with Fuma’s head.

Fuma barely made it through the rest of his evening. He went to class. He showered again (alone). He ate. He studied. And then he went to bed. All of which he did without running into Kei - something only possible with a lot of effort.

The night was quiet. The faint glow of the streetlights outside filtered through the blinds, casting soft, slanted shadows across Fuma’s bedroom. The hum of the city, distant but steady, settled into the background - white noise against the slow, even rhythm of his breathing. And still, his mind wouldn’t shut up. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, push it away, force himself to think about literally anything else, it kept coming back. Warm palms pressing into his thighs, fingertips dragging slow and deliberate over muscle, tracing over every inch like he was mapping him out, learning every detail. Kei’s hands were gliding higher, his grip tightening just enough to make Fuma’s pulse stutter - just enough to make his whole body respond.

Even after Fuma finally fell asleep that night, the moment followed him. He tossed and turned in his bed, his sheets tangled around his sweat-dampened body as he dreamed. 

In his slumbering mind, he found himself transported back to the steamy bathroom, the hot water cascading over his skin once more. Fuma stood beneath the spray, his back turned to Kei as before, but this time, he didn't flinch or recoil when the older alpha's hands came to rest on his hips. Fuma felt a calmness wash over him, a sense of rightness that he hadn't experienced when awake.

Here, in this safe, imaginary realm, he could allow himself to feel the things he had been denying himself in reality. There was no embarrassment or shame as Kei's hands began to sensually wash the skin of his hips and lower back, as Fuma let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into the touch.

His heart raced as Kei's hands slid lower, massaging the globes of his ass with a confidence and familiarity that made Fuma's breath catch in his throat. He could feel the alpha's breath on the back of his neck, hot and humid in the steam of the shower. Fuma's body shuddered as Kei's fingers dipped teasingly into the cleft of his ass, his touch maddeningly sensual and full of unspoken promise.

Fuma gasped and arched into the touch, his hips instinctively pressing back against Kei's palms. Kei's fingers kneaded and squeezed the taut flesh, his touch possessive and filled with desire. Breathless moans spilled from Fuma's lips as he felt Kei's grip tighten, pulling his ass cheeks apart slightly. Fuma's cock throbbed and jerked against his stomach, aching for the same attention from Kei's skilled hands.

As if he could read the younger alpha’s mind, Kei's fingers left his ass, brushing teasingly against the sensitive skin of Fuma's thighs. He whimpered and spread his legs wider, desperate for more of Kei's touch. And then, finally, Kei's fingertips grazed the throbbing, rigid length of Fuma's erection, the younger cried out in ecstasy, his hips bucking forward into the touch, begging for more.

With a growl of pure, unbridled lust, Kei wrapped his hand around Fuma's hard, leaking cock. Fuma saw stars, his vision blurring from the overwhelming pleasure radiating from his most intimate place. The older alpha’s fingers tightened, stroking and squeezing his thick length with a confidence and hunger that Fuma had never experienced before. He felt the coil within him tightening, his release fast approaching as Kei confidently worked his throbbing erection.

The sensations were overwhelming, pushing Fuma closer to the edge of pure, mind-numbing ecstasy and he ached to feel Kei's lips on his, to taste the alpha's tongue as it dominated his mouth in a passionate, claiming kiss.

Just as he was about to crest that peak, Fuma jolted awake with a gasp, his body shaking and sweat-soaked as the dream shattered around him. The lingering images of his vivid dream still danced before his eyes - Kei's toned, glistening body, his strong hands eagerly exploring every inch of Fuma's own muscular frame.

As the last tendrils of the vivid dream faded, he became acutely aware of the persistent throbbing ache between his legs. Glancing down, Fuma groaned softly at the sight of the obvious tent in his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric and leaking a damp spot on the material. 

Fuck.

His breath came out shaky, and for a second, he lay there - staring at the ceiling, trying to will it away, trying to push the lingering weight of the dream out of his mind. But he couldn't. 

The feeling of his own hard, leaking cock was maddening, and Fuma found he could no longer ignore the desperate ache for release. With a low, shuddering sigh, he reluctantly slid a hand down into his boxers, his fingers brushing against the leaking tip of his erection.

This was stupid. So, so fucking stupid.

His fingers curled around himself, and the second he gave an experimental stroke, a low groan ripped from his throat. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Obviously. But it was the first time it was because of someone he actually knew - someone who was probably asleep just across the hall. 

The sensation was a poor imitation of the sparks he had felt in his dream when Kei had touched him but continued to stroke himself slowly at first.

As his stroking grew faster and more urgent, Fuma couldn't hold back the low, guttural groans of pleasure that spilled from his lips. The image of Kei's fingers around his length, squeezing and stroking with desperate hunger, played over and over in his mind. Fuma felt his release swiftly approaching, his abdomen clenching and toes curling as the pleasure mounted to an unbearable peak.

Finally, after only a handful of strokes, Fuma came undone, cum erupting from the tip of his dick as he rode out his climax. A strangled moan of his roommates name left his lips at the intensity of it, his body trembling from the force of his orgasm. His cock jerked and pulsed in his grip as thick ropes of hot cum erupted from the tip, coating his fingers and dripping down onto his stomach and chest.

Fuck.

As the waves of pleasure slowly receded, Fuma lay panting, his mind struggling to process the raw, carnal intensity of his first sexual experience with another alpha.  

What the fuck had he just done? His best friend. His fucking best friend.

He had just touched himself to the thought of Kei - to the feeling of his hands, the way his voice sounded, the way his grip had felt too good, too strong, too much.

Fuma squeezed his eyes shut. He knew, with a sinking feeling, that he could never look at Kei the same way again.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

The week leading up to the quarterfinals game was chaotic. Everywhere on campus, students were talking about it - even people who didn’t normally care about soccer were suddenly invested. Maybe it was the fact that this was the last year for most of the varsity team, and if Kei’s team won, they’d be one step closer to taking the championship.

It had only been a few days since Fuma had jerked off to the thought of his best friend, and ever since then, he’s been fighting for his damn life to act normal. He felt slightly off-balance, like his brain was constantly glitching, and cataloging every little thing Kei did in ways that were not necessary. So, it didn’t help that Kei’s name and face were all over campus. He was the team’s star player and the school’s golden boy, so naturally his face was on posters, people’s social media stories, his jersey number was printed on banners and there was an endless amount of people who were talking about him. 

Fuma never considered himself the type to get swept up in school spirit, but when Kei double-checked he was coming, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in his answer.

"You’re coming to my game, right?" Kei had asked one night while they were lounging in their apartment, watching something mindless on TV.

Fuma scoffed. "Obviously."

"Good. Need my #1 supporter in the stands." Kei grinned, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “You better be loud. I wanna hear you from the field.

Fuma rolled his eyes with a snort. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure to scream your name extra loud."

Kei winked. "See, now you’re getting it."

Fuma just shook his head, but - yeah. Of course, he was going. He wouldn’t miss it for anything.

By the time game day rolled around, Fuma realized he had a small problem. He had nothing to wear. It wasn’t like he had any school merch lying around - he wasn’t one of those people who wore team colors every chance they got. And now that he actually thought about it, he felt a little stupid showing up without something to rep the team.

He brought it up while Kei was putting his sports bag together, the older alpha making sure he had everything he needed for today’s game. 

"Hey," Fuma said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I don’t have anything to wear."

Kei looked up, brow raised. "What do you mean?"

"I don’t have any school merch," Fuma admitted. "No jerseys, no team hoodies, nothing."

Kei paused mid-putting his water bottle into his bag, looking at him like he had just announced he had never eaten rice before.

"Are you serious?"

Fuma shrugged and Kei looked offended on behalf of the entire university.

"You have nothing?"

"Nothing."

Kei just sighed.  "Alright, fine. Just wear my alternative team shirt."

Fuma blinked. "What?"

"My extra jersey," Kei clarified, standing up and zipping his bag closed. "The black one. I’ve got a spare in my closet."

Fuma knew the one. It was white with black, their away-team colours, and had ‘KOGA’ printed across the back in bold lettering. 

Fuma hesitated. "You sure?"

Kei gave him a look. "You’re acting like I wouldn’t love seeing you wearing my name."

Fuma scoffed, trying to ignore the way his stomach did something weird. "Dramatic much?"

"Just take it. It’ll look good on you." Kei smirked, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at the game”

"Yeah,” Fuma nodded at his roommate. "Don’t embarrass yourself out there."

Kei laughed, walking away towards the door, the front door closing behind him. 

The younger alpha let out a slow breath, shaking his head before making his way toward Kei’s room. He pushed open the door, stepping into the slightly messy room. The bed was half-made, blankets still slightly rumpled from when Kei had shoved them aside this morning. His desk had a few stray papers, notes scribbled in his handwriting, and an empty protein shake bottle shoved to the side. A pair of cleats sat by the door, lined up neatly next to his school bag, and against the far wall - Kei’s closet.

Fuma moved toward it, pulling the door open. Amber and cedarwood hit him full force when the door opened, the older’s alphas scent soaked into his wardrobe. His closet was unsurprisingly simple, majority of his clothes being hoodies, t-shirts, a few nicer button-ups shoved towards the back and right beside Kei’s favourite sweater, was the black jersey. 

Fuma reached for it, fingers brushing against the smooth fabric as he debated taking it off the hanger. It’s not like he didn’t want to wear it, but all he could think about was what it meant to wear someone else’s name. To let Kei’s name sit on his back, in full view of everyone - to be marked by it. 

The younger alpha sighed, yanking the material off the hanger. It was just a jersey. Kei had offered it to him without even thinking twice, so why was he thinking about it so much?

He pulled it over his head, adjusting the collar, feeling the weight of it settle over his shoulders. Fuma had expected the shirt to be a little loose, a little oversized. Kei was taller than him, so it should’ve been big, but after looking at his reflection in the mirror - it fit perfectly. Not too tight, but just right. The sleeves hugged his arms just enough to make it look good, and the material was soft, worn from too many washes. And right there, on the back...

KOGA

#9

Fuma stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, something unreadable settling in his chest. Wearing a player’s jersey was something omegas did so others knew who on the team they were either courting, or dating. He looked like he was Kei’s with the captain’s jersey on. 

Before he could even think about it, before he could stop himself, Fuma’s fingers curled around the collar, tugging it slightly toward his face. The older alpha’s scent wrapped around him, pressed against his skin, filling every breath like something unavoidable. And for a second - just a second - Fuma let himself sink into it.  He let himself close his eyes, let the warmth of the scent settle in his lungs, let himself think - No. No, no, no.

His eyes snapped open, his fingers dropping from the fabric as if it had burned him, his heart beating too fast.  What the hell was that? Why did he do that? He shook the thought from his head, quickly leaving Kei’s room and grabbing his phone to text the group chat. 

The streets were already buzzing with energy, students making their way toward campus, decked out in school colors, jerseys, and face paint. Fuma adjusted the collar of his jersey, trying not to think too hard about the name printed across his back.

His friends were waiting for him outside the stadium and he had barely made it a few steps toward where his friends were waiting before Hyunjae immediately zeroed in on him.

"Ohhhh, what’s this?"

Fuma sighed, already regretting his life choices. "Don’t start."

Kevin pointed straight at his chest. "What are you wearing?"

"It’s Kei’s. He had an extra." Fuma rolled his eyes, adjusting the hem of the jersey.

“Normal people just wear school merch, you know”

“I didn’t have any so Kei gave this to me so I wouldn’t look like an idiot in the stands. That’s it."

Chan hummed thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Uh-huh, sure”

The moment Fuma and his friends stepped into the stadium, the atmosphere hit him all at once. The air was thick with energy, buzzing with excitement from the students filling the stands. The scent of fresh grass and churned-up dirt from the field mixed with the salty tang of popcorn and fried food from the nearby concession stands. Everywhere he looked, people were decked out in school colors - faces painted, banners waving, jerseys worn with pride. The roar of the crowd wasn’t deafening yet, but there was a constant hum of noise, voices overlapping as fans chatted, laughed, and called out greetings to each other.

The stadium lights were already on, casting bright white beams over the field, making the grass seem even greener under the glow. The players were out there now, jogging across the turf, stretching, passing the ball between them in quick, controlled movements. And then his eyes landed on Kei.

Fuma barely noticed the smell of sweat and adrenaline in the air anymore, and didn't pay attention to the vendors shouting about hotdogs and cold drinks. Because Kei was on the field now, warming up with the team. Even from a distance, Fuma could see the sharp focus in his posture - the way he moved effortlessly through each drill, the way his teammates naturally gravitated toward him. 

Chan bumped his arm, waving him over to where a small booth had been set up where spectators could get some face paint, flags or banners before heading to their seats. Fuma immediately recognized Jacob, one of Hyunjae, Juyeon and Kevin’s packmates. The omega was standing with a brush in hand as he carefully painted the cheek of a passing student. Next to him was Seonghwa - an omega Fuma had met before during their group soccer game. He was refined and elegant in the way he carried himself, his sharp features making him almost intimidating.

Kevin grinned. "Hey, look who it is."

Jacob looked up and brightened immediately at the sight of them. "About time you guys showed up."

Chan smirked. "We had to drag Hyunjae here."

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. "Not true."

Seonghwa raised a brow. "Then why do you look like you were forced?"

"I don’t!"

Jacob hummed in amusement, then gestured to the paints. "Well, since you’re here, let’s get some color on you. School pride and all that."

Fuma wasn’t going to argue. He had already put on Kei’s jersey, so he might as well go all in. Hyunjae and Kevin went first, letting Jacob give them bold streaks of paint across their cheekbones, their packmate working quickly with smooth, practiced strokes. Then it was Fuma’s turn. He expected Jacob to do it, but instead, Seonghwa stepped forward, paintbrush in hand.

“Nice jersey” Seonghwa looked like he was holding back a laugh, his eyes scanning the jersey that clearly didn’t belong to the alpha in front of him. 

“Thanks,” The alpha sighed. He’s given up trying to defend himself. “How’s your knee?”

“Still busted enough that they wouldn’t let me play today but I'm hoping that if the team makes it to the championship, I can play then.” Seonghwa grabbed Fuma’s chin softly, tilting his face to the side. “Now, hold still”

The paintbrush was cool as it touched his skin, dragging soft lines along his cheek. Fuma held still, letting Seonghwa work. After a few moments, the omega leaned back, tilting his head slightly as he examined his work. Then he nodded in approval. "Done."

"Thanks," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Seonghwa smirked. "Of course."

Jacob looked at the alpha, eyes glinting with amusement. "You look good, Fuma. Very… spirited."

Kevin snickered, elbowing Fuma. "Kei’s gonna love this."

Fuma ignored them. Mostly because he wasn’t sure why his face felt warm.

“Hey, we should get a group picture” Chan suggested and Jacob held his hand out for the alpha to place his phone in. 

Fuma, Hyunjae, Kevin and Chan stood beside each other, arms around each other’s shoulders as they posed for Jacob, letting the omega take a few photos of them. They gathered around Chan’s phone afterwards to make sure they all had their eyes open in at least one of them, when Fuma suddenly yanked the phone from the other’s alpha’s hand to zoom in on his own face. His friends had gotten black and white stripes painted on their cheeks, while Fuma had a big #9 on his. 

“Seriously, Seonghwa?” He sighed, glaring at the omega who just laughed at him. 

“Sorry, Fuma. I couldn’t resist.”

"Man, the stadium is packed today," Hyunjae said as they found their seats, scanning the stands.

"Well, yeah. It’s the quarterfinals, of course it’s gonna be busy” Kevin snorted. 

“Smartass” Hyunjae stuck his tongue out at his packmate as they sat down. The two packmates continued to bicker about who was the bigger smartass when Chan leaned in towards Fuma. 

"You know," Chan mused, "Kei’s never given his jersey to anyone before."

Fuma froze.

"Minho gives me his every game. Even Juyeon’s had people wear his. But Kei? No one." He turned to Fuma, smirking slightly. "Guess you’re special."

Fuma’s heart slammed against his ribs. He had spent all morning trying not to overthink this. It was just a jersey. Just a way for him to blend in with the school crowd. Now, it felt like everyone was staring. Now, it felt like Kei had done something that meant more than Fuma had realized. Now, it felt like… Shit. What if Kei had meant something by it?

What if he had just walked in here, proudly wearing Kei’s name, without realizing what he was actually saying? Fuma gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists on his lap.

"If you don’t shut up, I’m leaving."

Chan snickered. "Aw, come on, Fuma. It’s cute."

Fuma turned, scowling. "It’s not -"

He was cut off by the crowd screaming as the players jogged onto the field, getting into their positions to start the game. A wave of cheers, chants, and claps rolled through the stands as the team jogged onto the pitch, their cleats pressing into the turf with practiced confidence. They were dressed in black and white, the school’s colors, the jerseys sharp against the bright green of the field. Kei was at the front, leading the pack - head held high, shoulders loose, moving with the kind of effortless ease that only came from years of knowing he belonged here.

Everyone in the stands jumped to their feet as the referee’s whistle blew. From the very first play, the pace was relentless. The players moved like a machine, passing the ball back and forth in perfect rhythm, dodging defenders, keeping tight formation as they advanced down the field. And right in the center of it all, was Kei. Fuma’s eyes followed him automatically. Every movement, every step. His eyes couldn’t stop tracking the way Kei ran his hands through his hair, pushing damp strands back from his forehead as he ran, or how his shorts hugged his thighs, and how his thigh tensed when he swung his leg back for a kick.

Kei was everywhere - sprinting, cutting through defenders, controlling the ball with a precision that looked effortless. He never seemed to slow down, even when others hesitated, even when the opposing team tried to close in on him.

"GO, KEI!!" Kevin yelled, waving his arms wildly as Kei intercepted a pass, swiftly maneuvering the ball forward.

The crowd erupted, and without thinking, Fuma found himself standing up too, fists clenched as Kei sprinted down the field. The other team’s defenders were on him immediately, two players closing in - but Kei didn’t falter. He cut left, then right, dodging smoothly, body moving like water, barely losing speed.

Hyunjae let out a sharp whistle. "Damn, look at him go!"

"Come on," Fuma muttered under his breath, eyes locked onto Kei as he closed in on the goal. The forward was in position - Kei could pass - but instead, he kept pushing forward.

"Take the shot, take the shot!" Chan yelled.

Kei’s leg swung back, and Fuma could hear the moment his cleat connected with the ball - a sharp, powerful kick - straight into the back of the net. The stadium erupted. Fuma found himself grinning, adrenaline spiking as Kevin shook him by the shoulders.

"THAT’S YOUR BOY!!" Kevin screamed.

From across the field, Kei glanced toward the stands, his gaze searching. And then, just for a moment, his eyes met Fuma’s. Kei’s steps stuttered for just a second. His expression shifted - just the slightest hesitation, something unreadable flashing through his eyes. Fuma didn’t even have time to process it before Kei grinned at him, flashing that cocky, breathless, sweat-damp smirk he always wore when he knew he had done something great. And then - he winked. Fuma sat down so fast his head spun.

Kevin snorted beside him. "Woah. You good?"

Fuma ignored him, focusing very hard on the field. The game had barely begun, but if he kept thinking about Kei’s stupid, knowing grin, he was going to lose his mind.

The rest of the game was a blur. It continued at a relentless pace, both teams pushing hard, but their school’s team had momentum on their side. They played fast, aggressive, and sharp, their passes crisp, and their shots were deadly accurate. Kei was at the center of it all, leading plays, calling out commands, running nonstop.

Fuma had never appreciated just how much work soccer players put in until now. No wonder Kei had such insane stamina. The guy never seemed to stop moving, weaving through defenders, covering ground like it was nothing. Then, the final whistle blew through the air, sharp and piercing - and just like that, the team had won.

The stadium erupted, students jumping out of their seats, screaming, chanting, hugging each other in excitement. Flags waved in the air, confetti cannons blasted from the student section, and the announcer’s voice rang through the speakers, confirming their school’s victory as the scoreboard flashed the final score. Fuma barely had time to process it before Kevin and Chan grabbed him, yelling in his ear.

"HELL YEAH!" Chan shouted, shaking Fuma’s shoulders.

"OUR TEAM'S UNSTOPPABLE," Kevin hollered. "KEI WAS INSANE TONIGHT!"

Fuma couldn’t argue with that.

His eyes instinctively found the field, where the team was celebrating like maniacs. Players tackled each other, arms thrown around shoulders, a mix of laughter and pure adrenaline-fueled excitement filling the air. Fuma watched as Kei was immediately swarmed by his teammates, his grin wide, breathless, his hands gripping the nearest jersey as they all piled onto him. Minho ruffled his hair, Juyeon grabbed him in a half-headlock, and Jiwoong shoved him toward the others before wrapping an arm around his waist. Kei was still breathless, still grinning like he owned the world. The stadium lights caught on the sweat on his skin, highlighting the sharp curve of his jaw, the damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead.

The energy from the game didn’t fade - it only intensified as Fuma, Kevin, Hyunjae, and Chan made their way toward the locker rooms, where students were already gathering to celebrate with the team. People were buzzing with excitement, voices overlapping, chants still breaking out at random. The school had won, and the campus was alive with victory. And sure enough, as soon as the players started to step out of the locker room, it was chaos. Kei, who was at the front of the team, was immediately swarmed by students, cheering and congratulating him, holding up their phones for selfies like he was some celebrity athlete.

The alpha took it all in stride, grinning like he had expected this. He was changed into other clothes, his hair damp from a post-game rinse, but the way he carried himself made it look like he belonged on a magazine cover. Fuma and the others hung back, standing off to the side, watching as people crowded the team.

Kevin glanced around and snorted. "Damn, they’re acting like he’s a celebrity."

Hyunjae smirked. "He kinda is."

Chan nodded, crossing his arms. "Kei’s been carrying the team for three years. Everyone wants a piece of him after a win like that."

Fuma huffed a quiet laugh, shifting his weight slightly. "Yeah, well. He better not let it go to his head."

Kevin grinned, elbowing him. "A little late for that, don’t you think?"

Fuma rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny it. Kei had always had a presence. Even before he was team captain, people had naturally been drawn to him. He had that effortless charm, the kind of confidence that made people want to follow him. Especially after leading the team to victory tonight, no shit everyone wanted a moment of his time. And for some reason, that bothered Fuma more than he cared to admit.

Some random student patted the star players on the shoulder, laughing. "You were insane out there, bro!"

"You better get scouted after this, holy shit!"

“Can I get a quote for the school paper?”

“Kei, can I get a selfie?”

Fuma watched, hands in his pockets, as Kei posed effortlessly with anyone who asked. He wasn’t jealous. That would be stupid. Kei was popular. That was nothing new. But for some reason, hearing people talk about him like that - like they were all competing for a second of his attention - It made something in Fuma’s chest feel weirdly tight. It wasn’t just that Kei was getting attention - it was the way he handled it. The way he laughed easily, the way he looked like he belonged in the center of it all.

And yet, even through all the noise, even with people calling his name and cameras flashing - Kei’s eyes still found him.

Kei was used to attention, the crowd outside the locker room was nothing new. People wanted a piece of him - a handshake, a smile, a quick selfie to post online. So, he gave them what they wanted. He flashed a grin, took a couple of pictures, and answered a question or two. But the whole time, his focus wasn’t really there because he was still searching for one familiar face in particular. And then he finally found him sanding just a little off to the side, arms crossed, watching.

Fuma. Wearing his jersey. With a bold, black #9 painted on his face.

Kei’s breath hitched. He knew Fuma had been wearing the jersey - he had given it to him, but seeing it in the middle of the crowd, with his name stretched across Fuma’s back?  It did something to him. And that #9? The number Kei had worn since his first year, the number plastered across every banner, every scoreboard, every damn article about the team - It was on Fuma’s face. Painted there. Visible for everyone to see. Something warm and dangerous curled in Kei’s chest.

The crowd around Kei slowly started to thin, people satisfied with their photos and congratulations, letting the team finally breathe. Fuma barely had time to react before Kei strode forward and slung an arm around his shoulders.

"There’s my number one fan," Kei said smoothly, voice dripping with pure amusement.

Beside them, Kevin snorted, Hyunjae outright cackled, and Chan looked far too entertained.

"Shut up," Fuma muttered, resisting the urge to shrug Kei off. "You just won, act like a normal person."

Kei ignored him entirely. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, his body still radiating post-game heat, voice dropping into something too smug for Fuma’s comfort.

“You look really good in my jersey”

Fuma hated the way his stomach twisted at that. Before he could come up with a comeback, Juyeon, Minho, and Jiwoong finally caught up, all of them still buzzing with energy from the win.

"That was sick," Minho grinned, clapping Kei on the back. "We actually pulled it off."

Juyeon was still breathless, shaking his head with a laugh. "I can’t believe you pulled off that assist, man. That was unreal."

After the game, after the celebrations, the teasing, the electric energy still buzzing in their veins, the group did what they always did after a big win - they partied. They went to Winwin’s frat house, Fuma recognized it as the place the team usually partied at - Nu Chi Tau.

It wasn’t long before the house was packed - people spilling out from every room, music loud enough that he could feel the bass vibrating in his chest. It was filled with students still high off their school’s victory, voices overlapping in excited conversations, laughter echoing from all corners. Music pulsed through the speakers, loud enough to make the floors vibrate slightly, but not enough to drown out the sound of drinks clinking and friends cheering. Fuma, still wearing Kei’s jersey, followed the group inside, the warmth of the crowded house enveloping him immediately.

"Alright, I’ll get the first round," Juyeon announced, clapping his hands together. A collective cheer went up from the group, and before Fuma could blink, shots and beers were being passed around, hands reaching, glasses lifting.

"To the win!" Minho declared, raising his drink.

"To Kei being insufferable for the next week!" Jiwoong teased.

"To Fuma finally embracing his inner fanboy!" Chan grinned, winking at the other alpha.

Fuma scowled, but before he could say anything, Kei leaned in, his breath warm against Fuma’s ear.

"You heard them," Kei’s voice was low, smug. "Better drink to that, fanboy."

Fuma immediately took his shot just to shut him up.

It wasn’t long before he felt that familiar full-body buzz and the fog in his mind from consuming probably one too many shots. The alcohol is warm in his veins, spreading through his chest, making his thoughts blur at the edges. He feels good, uncaring that Kei had been dragged away by half the team not long ago, and now he was on his own. The alpha just retreated to the side of the main room, swaying slightly as he scanned for at least one familiar face. Luckily, he didn’t have to search long. Near the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, was Hyunjae.

Fuma made his way over immediately. “Thank god.”

“What, did you lose Kei already?” Hyunjae glanced up from his phone, amused. 

“I didn’t lose him. He got kidnapped.” Fuma scowled. 

“Yeah, that sounds right.” Hyunjae huffed a laugh, taking a sip of his drink. 

Fuma leaned against the counter beside him, grabbing a random beer from the cooler so they could clink bottles, before settling into easy conversation. The party only got wilder as the night went on. Somebody had dragged a couch into the backyard. Someone else was trying to climb onto the roof. Beer pong games were getting aggressive. Fuma and Hyunjae, however, were perfectly content to hang off to the side, making commentary about everything happening around them. They had moved back to the living room, onto one of the couches where it was easier to people watch. 

“Okay, that guy’s definitely going to fall.” Fuma nodded toward an obviously drunk group of players from the Junior Varsity team trying to stack themselves into a human pyramid.

Hyunjae squinted. “Yeah, that’s a bad idea.”

Right on cue, the entire thing collapsed, everyone landing on top of each other with a groan. 

Fuma took a sip of his beer. “Called it.”

“You should start charging for your predictions.” Hyunjae chuckled. 

They stayed like that - observing, laughing, making occasional comments - while the rest of the party continued in absolute chaos. It wasn’t the worst way to spend the night. Then, suddenly, a presence interrupted their little corner of the couch. Fuma looked up to see Chanhee, the pretty omega with faded, light pink hair, with an air of confidence that was unmistakable. Chanhee’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he approached them, a flirtatious grin already spreading across his face.

“Hey -” Hyunjae greeted him with a casual wave, but Chanhee’s attention was already completely focused on Fuma.

“Hey, Fuma,” Chanhee said, his voice light, almost teasing. He eyed the space on the couch with a playful glance. “Can I sit with you guys? Oh, wait, there’s no space? What a shame.”

Before Fuma could even suggest that Hyunjae move down a bit to make room, Chanhee was already sliding onto the couch, settling right down on Fuma’s lap without hesitation. The alpha froze for a moment, his heart racing as the unexpected shift made the air between them feel charged. His body stiffened slightly under the weight of Chanhee’s presence, but the omega made himself comfortable, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

He hesitated for a moment, but when Chanhee made no move to get up, Fuma decided to just roll with it, though he couldn't help the slight flush creeping up his neck. He tried to adjust himself to sit more comfortably, but the sudden closeness left him feeling aware of every little movement.

Chanhee looked up at Fuma with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect his sudden closeness had on him. “Well, now we’ve made room,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement.

Fuma swallowed, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, hey, Chanhee...” He tried to smile, though the sudden situation left him a bit flustered. 

Hyunjae, used to the omegas brazen attitude, chuckled from beside them. His grin only widened when Fuma shot him a look that was equal parts confused and helpless.

The alpha could only laugh nervously, unsure of how to navigate the sudden intimacy. Chanhee was close and Fuma felt the heat rising to his face. He didn’t know what it was about the omega's boldness that made him feel so awkward, but he couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the pressure of Chanhee’s body against him.

Fuma tried to keep his focus on the conversation with Hyunjae and Chanhee, though his thoughts kept drifting. Chanhee, with his soft smile and warm scent, was pleasant to talk to. His easy-going nature made it comfortable, and Fuma appreciated the distraction. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept wandering across the crowded room, searching. It wasn’t long before they found what they were looking for. And what he was looking for, wasn’t alone. Kei’s broad frame was easy to spot in the crowd, his usual charisma drawing people in. But what stopped Fuma’s heart for a moment was the sight of Kei standing much too close to someone else. 

Another alpha. 

The guy was built like an athlete - tall, with a strong build that matched Kei’s - and he was leaning in slightly as he spoke to Kei. And Kei… Kei was smiling, tilting his head just enough to seem interested, stepping in a little closer instead of backing away. He was pressing himself closer into the stranger’s side, his hand brushing against the other alpha’s arm as they laughed together. 

Fuma’s grip tightened around his drink. He couldn’t look away. His eyes stayed fixed on Kei, his heart pounding. He hadn’t even noticed how tense his own body had become, something possessive curling tight in his chest, waiting for Kei to laugh and brush the guy off like he usually did with people who got too close. Oh. Right. Kei wasn’t going to push him away. Because Kei liked alphas. This wasn’t just Kei going along with some omega’s flirting. This wasn’t Kei politely entertaining attention he didn’t want. This was Kei actually interested. 

Fuma felt like someone had pulled the ground out from under him. Why was this bothering him so much? Why did it hurt to see Kei so comfortable with someone else? The younger alpha tried to shake the feeling off, but it lingered, gnawing at the back of his mind as he forced his attention back to Hyunjae and Chanhee. They were still chatting, oblivious to Fuma’s inner turmoil, but he couldn’t help but glance back at Kei once more. And oh. Kei wasn’t just talking to the alpha anymore. They were kissing.

Fuma’s stomach dropped as a slow, unknown feeling curled hot and ugly in his chest. It wasn’t shock. It wasn’t disgust. It wasn’t even the alcohol settling in. It was something worse. Something that made his fingers tighten around his can, something that made his throat feel dry, something that made it suddenly very, very hard to sit there and do nothing. He drained the rest of his drink, letting the burn of alcohol distract him.

“You okay? Or just not much of a talker?” Chanhee laughed, Fuma’s attention going back to the omega. Hyunjae had left, mentioning grabbing more drinks so just the two of them sat together. 

Fuma opened his mouth - was about to brush him off, to mutter some excuse, to shake his head and move on but he just exhaled instead. He wasn’t the hookup type. Not really. He had never cared much about casual flings or drunken mistakes. But this was university. People did it all the time. So why not just - try? Instead of brushing Chanhee off, Fuma straightened his shoulders, forced a smirk, and pulled the omega closer on his lap.

“Nah,” he said, voice smooth, even. “I talk.”

The omega’s eyes sparkled. “That so?”

Fuma nodded, leaning in slightly, pushing down the feeling clawing at his chest.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. One second, he was talking to Chanhee - half-listening, half-distracted, nodding at the right times, keeping his smirk in place. The next, the omega was leaning in closer, fingertips grazing the alpha’s arm, voice dipping softer, warmer. Then the omega’s lips were on his. Chanhee’s hands slipped up Fuma’s chest, pressing against him, molding against him. He could taste the faintest hint of alcohol on Chanhee’s lips, something sweet - cocktail syrup, maybe. Fuma was fine. He was having fun. This didn’t mean anything. And if Kei could kiss someone like it was nothing - then so could he.

His hands found the omega’s waist, pulling him closer like if he drowned in this, he wouldn’t have to think. Wouldn’t have to think about Kei. Wouldn’t have to think about how his stomach had dropped the second he saw his best friend wrapped around someone else. Wouldn’t have to think about what it meant, why it mattered, why it burned.

Chanhee giggled against his lips. “You wanna get out of here?”

Fuma barely processed the words, his head foggy, the world around him slipping in and out of focus. His eyes flickered around the room. Kei and that other alpha was long gone and Fuma’s stomach twisted again and for a second he was worried all the booze he consumed was going to make a sudden, untimely re-entrance. But he swallowed, let the words leave his mouth before he could stop them.

“Yeah.”

The omega’s smile widened.

“Cool,” Chanhee said, grabbing his hand, lacing his fingers through the alpha’s. “My apartment’s close.”

Fuma let himself be pulled toward the exit, out into the night, away from the party, away from the heat in his chest that wouldn’t leave him alone. Because if Kei could do it, then so could he. And maybe - just maybe - that this would make his feelings about his best friend go away.

Fuma barely registered the walk. Barely heard Chanhee’s voice as he talked about how much fun the party had been, how he was glad he stayed late, how he liked alphas like Fuma.

‘Alphas like him’. That phrase twisted in his chest, curling into something uncomfortable. But he didn’t stop walking. This was normal. This was what alphas were supposed to do. Wasn’t it?

Chanhee’s apartment was small but neat and smelled of roses. Obviously, he lived alone and not in the pigsty that was Hyunjae, Kevin and Juyeon’s palace. It was probably for the best that way. 

The omega turned back to him after shutting the front door, stepping closer, and tracing his fingers up the alpha’s arm. “You good?”

Fuma forced a smirk. “Yeah.” Lie.

Chanhee smiled, pressing his hands against Fuma’s chest, tilting his head up, eyes soft with expectation as he kissed him again. Fuma let it happen. Let dainty hands slip over his shoulders, down his arms, pressing into his muscles. But it wasn’t right.

He’d kissed omegas before. He’d always liked them. He had spent so much of his life convinced that he was destined to mate with one - someone gentle, someone soft, someone who fit the mold of what he had always believed he wanted. But as Chanhee’s lips pressed against his, Fuma’s thoughts scattered. He had expected to feel a spark, a pull, something to remind him of all the times he’d thought about the future. But there was none of that. Instead, a dreadful sinking feeling spread through him, like something inside him was finally coming undone.

Fuma’s mind wasn’t on the kiss, nor on Chanhee’s soft, delicate touch. It was on something else entirely. He found himself thinking about someone taller, someone stronger. He wanted bigger hands - hands that could hold him in ways that felt protective, assertive - caressing his body. And for the first time, he realized, none of that was in front of him.

Fuma’s breath hitched and suddenly, his stomach turned, nausea curling at the edges of his thoughts. He wasn’t looking for softness, he wasn’t looking for gentleness - he was looking for something else entirely.

Someone who wasn’t an omega.

He couldn’t do this. He pulled away abruptly, his heart racing, his thoughts chaotic. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, an overwhelming nausea creeping up as the world seemed to shift underneath him. He didn’t know what to make of it, or how to process it. Everything he had thought he knew about himself - about what he wanted - was suddenly in question.

The omega blinked, startled. “Fuma?”

“I - I need to go,” Fuma muttered, his voice thick with confusion. He stumbled to the door, his movements jerky, too quick, too desperate.

“What’s wrong?” Chanhee called after him, his tone soft, confused by the abruptness of Fuma’s retreat. But Fuma didn’t stop to explain. He couldn’t.

He rushed out of the apartment, his chest tight, his breath shallow. He could feel his thoughts spiraling, crashing into one another. Everything felt wrong - like he had been living a lie, like he had missed something essential about himself that he hadn’t even realized until now.

When the alpha finally got home, the weight of everything hit him and he struggled to unlock the front door with how much his hands were shaking. Inside the apartment, most of the lights were off except for a singular lamp in the living room. That meant Kei wasn’t home.

Fuma barely made it to the toilet before he was retching, throwing up all the booze he had drowned himself in that night. His stomach twisted again, his entire body shaking, his hands gripping the toilet rim too tight as he coughed up every last drop. Tears burned in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was from vomiting or something else entirely.

Once Fuma could finally breathe again and there was nothing left in his stomach, he stood up on shaky legs and stumbled over to the sink.  His whole body felt wrong - heavy and light all at once, like he was floating but also weighed down by something unbearable. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white as he tried to focus, ground himself, remind himself that he was still here. That this was his apartment. That he was alone. That whatever had just happened at the party was over. And yet, it wasn’t. Because it was still burning in his chest, twisting in his gut, refusing to leave him the hell alone.

The minty sharpness of toothpaste did little to drown out the acidic burn of his throat. His mouth tasted like regret and realization, like something irreversible, like something he hadn’t been ready to admit.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to see himself. But the person looking back didn’t feel like him anymore. His hair was a mess, his eyes were too red, too glassy, and there was something fractured in his expression. Like he had just watched everything he thought he knew about himself fall apart.

The second his head hit the pillow, his body gave up. He didn’t even bother taking off his clothes, the fabric of his jeans twisting uncomfortably against his skin, the sleeves of his shirt too warm, too stifling but he didn’t have the energy to care. He didn’t even have the energy to move, let alone think anymore. 

His entire life, he had been sure that omegas were what he wanted, what he needed. He had convinced himself that the softness, the warmth of an omega was what would complete him. But now, all of a sudden, it felt like everything had shattered.

He didn’t understand. He had never questioned it before. He had always been sure that he was meant for an omega, but now, as he lay there on his bed, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion. It was almost as if his thoughts had a mind of their own, drawing him toward the image of someone else, but it wasn’t just any random person his mind kept pulling him to - it was Kei. His roommate, his best friend Kei. 

Fuma felt a pang deep in his chest. Of course. Kei, who had always been the embodiment of everything Fuma had admired. Taller, stronger, more confident. Every moment they spent together made Fuma feel both inspired and helplessly small, but in a way that made him want to be better, want to feel more.

The realization came crashing down on him like a wave. How could he have missed this? How had he convinced himself that he just wanted to be like Kei, when deep down, there had always been more to it? There was no way he could ignore it now.

The ache in his chest grew, and he lay on his bed, his thoughts tangled. It wasn’t just a simple admiration anymore. It was something more complicated, more consuming. He couldn’t even kiss someone else without his mind drifting back to Kei. Fuma had been lying to himself, trying to rationalize his feelings when he knew all along who he really wanted - who he had wanted, whether he had recognized it or not.

Fuma squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t help. It didn’t stop the way his stomach still twisted, like he had lost something before he even had the chance to hold it in the first place - didn’t stop the fact that he had finally realized the truth, and now there was no running from it.

Chapter Text

Fuma barely slept. His entire body felt restless, like there was an unscratchable itch crawling under his skin, and his mind wouldn’t shut off. He tossed, turned. Flipped his pillow to the cold side, buried his face in his arms, counted backwards from 500 and even tried to imagine little cartoon sheep jumping over a wooden fence - tried to focus on literally anything else. But every time he closed his eyes, every time he let his thoughts wander for even a second, all he could see was Kei kissing that other fucking alpha. 

Eventually he just gave up and now he was sitting on the couch, bleary-eyed, watching an anime with the volume a little too loud just to keep his thoughts quiet. His half-finished coffee sat on the table, long since gone cold. That was how Kei found him early the next morning when he finally came home.

The front lock clicked and the door was pushed open, but Fuma didn’t turn his head, he didn’t have to. He knew who it was by scent alone, but this time, that once-familiar, comforting smell Fuma had come to enjoy so much, was laced with something else. Fuma’s fingers tightened on the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. 

Kei reeked of another alpha. The unmistakable, musky scent of another male alpha. The bitter herb smell mixed horribly with Kei’s heady scent. It hit Fuma like a punch to the gut, his heart racing even before he felt Kei look over at him. 

Fuma kept his eyes glued to the screen.  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that Kei’s shirt was different from the one he wore to the party last night, and he didn’t acknowledge that he smelled like another alpha. He also definitely didn’t mention how much Fuma wanted to scrub that scent off him, lick it, scratch it away - anything to be able to get just Kei’s usual scent back.

Kei yawned as he kicked off his shoes, and threw his keys onto the front hall table as he stretched lazily. “Morning.”

Fuma grunted in response, keeping his gaze on the TV even when his room eventually walked into the living room, a glass of water in hand, and casually sat next to the younger alpha on the couch. His eyes flickered to the TV, but his voice cut through the silence. “So, did you have fun last night?”

Fuma gave a noncommittal shrug, trying to keep his voice steady, but the words felt heavy on his tongue. “It was fine.”

Kei clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Oh? I saw one of Hyunjae’s packmates looking pretty comfy on your lap last night,” he laughed, but it wasn’t his usual cocky, effortless laughs, it felt more forced. Something about it was too tight, too off, too strained like he was trying a little too hard to seem unbothered.

Fuma froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the color draining from his face. Kei saw that? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but panic bloomed in his stomach. His mind immediately jumped back to the kiss with Chanhee - the unexpected kiss, the one that had confused and unsettled him. Did Kei see that too? Did he know? Fuma’s mouth went dry, his body tense as the horror of it settled in.

Fuma cleared his throat, trying to push the tightness in his chest aside. He wanted Kei to know the truth, despite what the other might have seen last night - what he might’ve assumed.

“I actually went home early last night,” Fuma said, his voice quieter than usual. “Alone.”

Kei’s expression dropped for just a moment, his fingers twitched, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Something in his posture shifted - just barely, like he had been expecting a different answer. 

“Really?” Kei’s voice was low, but there was an edge of surprise in it. “I thought you were having a good time. What happened?”

Fuma shifted uncomfortably on the couch, avoiding Kei’s gaze. The way Kei was looking at him now made Fuma feel exposed, as if the older alpha could see right through him. Fuma wasn’t sure what Kei was expecting, what he thought of him now, but it made him feel more tangled inside than he had earlier.

“I just... wasn’t in the mood to stay,” Fuma said, trying to sound casual, though his stomach churned with something he couldn’t explain. “I kinda just wanted to be alone”

Kei didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at Fuma with an unreadable expression. His eyes softened slightly, but there was still a hint of something in them - something that felt too sharp, too real. Fuma felt his chest tighten. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Kei’s gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, and for the first time, Fuma wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Alright,” Kei said finally, his tone steady but something flickering behind his words. “If you say so.”

Fuma nodded quickly, feeling his face heat up despite himself. It wasn’t that he was ashamed - he wasn’t - but something about Kei’s response made it feel like maybe Fuma was being a little too obvious, a little too open about his own discomfort.

Kei stood up then, stretching his arms over his head. "Anyway, I’m gonna shower now. I’m sure I stink”

As the older alpha headed towards the bathroom, Fuma felt his jaw clench so hard his teeth ached. He tried to steady his breath, trying to push away the strange, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him. He didn’t like that it bothered him so much. Kei was free to do whatever he wanted, and Fuma had no claim over him, but the thought of the older alpha’s body pressed against someone else’s, of their shared closeness, made a pit open up inside him, deep and hollow, swallowing every bit of comfort he once had.

The decision came easily. Because what else was he supposed to do? Admit it? Accept it? Face it head-on like some reckless idiot? Hell no. Fuma wasn’t about to ruin his entire friendship over some messy, confusing, unasked-for feelings he didn’t even know how to deal with. So instead, he made a choice.

The best way to get rid of his feelings for Kei was to ignore them, to ignore him. 

It wasn’t hard, he had plenty of excuses. Kei was busy with soccer and Fuma was busy with school. Classes were picking up, assignments stacking up faster than he liked. His part-time job at the gym had him coming home late, leaving early, too tired to talk most nights. Plus, they didn’t have to spend every waking second together. Fuma and Kei already lived together, they didn’t need to eat lunch at the same table, or sit next to each other in class.

It wasn’t like Fuma hated Kei - far from it. Kei was his roommate, his best friend. They shared everything, laughed together, and spent hours just enjoying each other’s company. 

Maybe, on some level, Fuma thought that if he kept his distance, his feelings for Kei wouldn’t develop any further. If he didn’t allow himself to be around Kei too much, if he didn’t engage in the little moments they shared, maybe he could stop whatever it was that was growing inside him. All this would make the feelings go away. It had to. 

So, when Kei walked into the apartment at night, talking about his day, expecting Fuma to respond like usual, the younger alpha would just hum in response, not looking up from his laptop. If Kei asked if he wanted to go out to eat after class, Fuma would shake his head, saying he had a shift to cover. And when Kei threw a lazy arm around his shoulders one afternoon at home, joking about something, Fuma would just step away, mumble something about an assignment, and disappear into his room.

It didn't long at all before Kei realized Fuma was acting weird. The younger alpha had just finished a shift at the gym, shoulders aching and mind clouded with exhaustion when his phone buzzed. 

Kei:

you coming home for dinner?

Fuma stared at the message. Then, slowly, his fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Fuma:

nah. still at work.

Kei:

you’ve been at work a lot

Fuma’s jaw tightened, before locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He didn’t owe Kei an explanation. He was just busy.

Avoiding Kei should have made things easier. It should have given Fuma the space he needed to clear his head, to push down all the things he didn’t want to feel. But instead, it just felt wrong. Because every time he walked past their usual table in the library, it felt too empty, or he sat alone at the gym, it felt too quiet.

The problem wasn’t just being near Kei; the problem was that he missed him. Fuma missed the way Kei nudged him when he was being grumpy, or how Kei laughed at his dumb jokes, or when Kei made everything feel a little lighter, a little easier, a little safer. And now Fuma wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that he had feelings for Kei or the fact that staying away from him hurt even more.

This entire situation just confused the hell out of Fuma.  Because Kei was just another alpha. Just another confident, charming, too-social-for-his-own-good alpha who thrived on attention and had an ego too big for his own good. Right?... Right. 

Fuma groaned, running a hand down his face as he sat in the campus cafeteria, a textbook open in front of him but completely unread. He had come here after one of his classes to procrastinate going back to the apartment and figured he could at least get some studying done while he was here, but he was pretty sure he had re-read the same page 20 times at this point.  

He didn’t even like alphas! He wasn’t interested in them. He had never been, still isn't to be completely honest. He had spent his entire life hearing how alphas and omegas belonged together, and if anything, it had pushed him away from the idea altogether. He had never even considered being with an alpha before. Fuma had always been attracted to omegas. His past relationships, his preferences - they all pointed to omegas.

So why the hell was Kei different? The older boy didn’t even look like an omega. He was tall, strong and exuded that unmistakable alpha confidence that Fuma had always admired. The idea of being attracted to Kei, a fellow alpha, was just... wrong. It didn’t fit the picture Fuma had in his mind about what a relationship should be. He couldn’t be having a crush on Kei - there was no way. And yet, here he was, obsessing over him, replaying their workouts in his mind, wondering why Kei’s voice, his smile, his eyes, were so captivating. It didn’t make sense.

“Dude, you good?”

Fuma blinked up, startled out of his thoughts as Kevin slid into the seat across from him, a burger in one hand and his laptop in the other. 

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at that page for, like, fifteen minutes,” Kevin pointed out, tilting his head. “You okay?”

“I -” Fuma hesitated, unsure how to say ‘i have a crush on my best friend and it’s ruining my life’, so instead he just cleared his throat. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Kevin didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged, stealing one of Fuma’s fries from his tray. “Alright, if you say so.”

Fuma nodded, forcing himself to focus on his book, on his food, on anything that wasn’t the reason his thoughts kept running in circles. Because this was just a phase. It had to be.

A week later, the semi-final game was approaching, and the entire campus was alive with anticipation. Conversations about the game filled every hallway, every common space, every corner of Fuma’s world. Posters with the team’s faces - Kei’s face - were plastered across bulletin boards, pinned to café windows, shared endlessly on social media. Everywhere he turned, he was met with the same buzz of excitement, the same weight of expectation. The school hadn’t had a shot at the finals in years, and now, with Kei leading the team, it finally seemed possible.

It should have been thrilling. It should have been something Fuma wanted to be a part of, but instead, it felt like a slow, suffocating reminder that everything between them was wrong. He and Kei still weren’t talking.

It had been days since they last had a real conversation, since Fuma had deliberately chosen distance over the risk of confronting whatever was growing between them. At first, Kei had tried. He had sent messages - casual, effortless things, like he was still trying to pretend everything was normal. But after enough ignored texts, after enough moments where Fuma had turned away or left a room too soon, Kei had stopped. He didn’t push. He didn’t demand answers. He just… let it happen. And for some reason, that was worse.

It wasn’t like Kei was angry. He didn’t glare at him across the classroom. He didn’t call him out or ask what the hell was going on. But that was what made it unbearable. Kei had simply adjusted to the absence, stopping asking Fuma if everything was okay when the younger no longer had an answer for him, letting Fuma slip away as if he had accepted that this was just how things were now. He still showed up to class. He still trained. He still smiled and laughed with their friends like nothing was wrong. But Fuma could tell.

He could see the difference in the way Kei carried himself, the way his jokes weren’t quite as sharp, the way his energy felt just slightly off. It wasn’t obvious to most people, but Fuma had known Kei for long enough now. He knew the way his body naturally moved when he was excited, when he was truly present. 

Fuma had convinced himself that this was the only way to fix things. That if he ignored his feelings, they would eventually disappear, like an injury that just needed time to heal. But as he walked through campus, overhearing passing conversations, his resolve wavered.

"Kei hasn’t seemed as sharp lately, has he?"

"Yeah, maybe it’s just nerves. He’s never played a semi-final game before."

Fuma nearly stopped mid-step. Kei? Nervous? That didn’t make sense. Kei thrived under pressure. He lived for the competition, for the adrenaline of the game, for the weight of expectation. It was what made him the player he was. He was the kind of person who pushed harder when things got tough, who never hesitated when the stakes were high.

Lunch with Chan and Minho was supposed to be a break. A chance for Fuma to clear his head, to push aside the mess in his chest and pretend, just for a little while, that things were normal. And at first, it was. They ordered food, cracked a few jokes, talked about anything except soccer. But then Minho stabbed at his food, chewing aggressively before letting out an irritated sigh.

"Practice has been hell lately," he muttered.

Chan raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

Minho scoffed. "Worse. Kei’s been a fucking nightmare."

Fuma’s stomach tightened. He kept his gaze down, pretending to focus on his food, but he could feel Minho’s eyes flick toward him.

"He’s always intense," Chan said, sipping his drink. "But this is different?"

Minho huffed a humorless laugh. "He’s turned into some psychopathic drill sergeant. Won’t let anyone take breaks, won’t stop yelling until the plays are perfect, pushing everyone way too hard. He says it’s just the pressure of the championship game coming up, but…" He trailed off, and Fuma knew what was coming next. "But I know better." 

Fuma swallowed, still refusing to look up, even as Minho addressed him next. 

"You two are off. You look like shit, Kei looks worse." Minho leaned forward, voice low, sharp and as blunt as ever. "Whatever the hell is going on between you two, whatever happened - fix it."

Fuma froze. Chan stayed quiet, watching with careful curiosity, like he had been noticing it too but hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Fuma wanted to deny it, wanted to say it wasn’t his problem, and that Kei’s bad mood, his short temper, his exhaustion wasn’t connected to him. But it was, of course it was. And Minho knew it. Because ignoring Kei wasn’t just hurting him anymore. It was hurting the team; it was hurting everything. Fuma stared at his plate, the weight of Minho’s words pressing down on him like a stone in his chest.

"You two are stronger than this," Minho said, voice firm, steady, like he was stating something undeniable. "I don’t know what the hell happened, but whatever it is - it’s not worth losing what you have."

Minho let out a slow breath, going back to pushing his food around with his fork. "You know how rare it is? That kind of friendship? That kind of connection?" he muttered. "I’ve played soccer for years. I’ve met a lot of people, been around a lot of teams, had a lot of friendships come and go. And I’m telling you, what you and Kei have?"

Minho shook his head, like he was searching for the right words. "It’s not normal, Fuma. People don’t just click like that."

Fuma swallowed hard. He knew Minho’s words were true.  He and Kei had always been like this - gravitating toward each other, picking each other first, understanding things without needing to say them out loud. They had built something that was solid, unshakable. Or at least, it had been because now, Fuma had thrown all of that into jeopardy. And for what? For feelings he was too much of a coward to face? For the fear that if he admitted the truth, everything between them would fall apart?

Minho exhaled sharply, watching him. "Nothing should be worth fucking that up." 

Fuma ended up not going to the game.

Despite what Minho had said, despite knowing that he was making things worse, despite the guilt twisting like a knife in his gut, he couldn’t bring himself to go. Because at the end of the day, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, no matter how much he wanted to fix things… He was a coward. He told himself it was better this way. That Kei didn’t need him there. That the team would be fine without him in the stands, that Kei would play just as well, just as sharp, just as strong and he wouldn’t even notice if Fuma wasn’t there in the hundreds of other fans calling his name. 

Fuma tried convincing himself it wasn’t a big deal that he didn’t go. His coworker had really wanted to attend, and when they asked him to cover their shift at the gym, he had said yes without hesitation. It was an easy excuse. But as he stood behind the front desk, checking people in and wiping down equipment, he could still hear it. The semi-final game was everywhere. The university had made it to the final four teams, and this was the biggest match they had played in years. It was live-streamed on every sports channel, playing on the gym’s overhead TVs, flashing across screens in the weight room, on the treadmills, above the reception area.

The camera panned over the crowded stadium, the student section roaring with energy, banners waving, faces painted in black and white. His friends had sent him pictures - packed stands, the school’s colors everywhere, people on their feet screaming for the team. And then, the lineup was announced. Fuma’s grip on the towel in his hands tightened when Kei’s name was called.

The camera zoomed in as the alpha jogged onto the field, expression unreadable, jaw tight, shoulders rolling back as he got into position. The usual spark in his eyes - that confidence, that effortless energy that made him a player people admired - it wasn’t there.

Fuma had watched Kei play a dozen times before. He knew what he was supposed to look like on the field - fast, sharp, precise. He was the kind of player who made things happen, who set the pace of the game, who controlled the energy of his team without even trying. But tonight, he was off. His passes weren’t as clean, his reactions were a little too slow, and he hesitated where he normally wouldn’t. Fuma could see it even through the screen. And from the way the commentators were talking - they could see it too.

"Kei’s not looking as aggressive as usual tonight."

"The team seems to be playing well overall, but you have to wonder if their captain is feeling the pressure."

"Something’s not clicking for him tonight."

Fuma exhaled through his nose, staring at the screen like he could somehow will Kei to play better.

The first half of the game ended with the team behind. 1-0.

The second half started with tension thick enough to cut through. The team was still trailing behind, and it was obvious they were struggling. The other team took advantage of it, pushing harder, pressing the midfield, keeping control of the ball. And with every minute that passed, the pressure mounted, and the team’s chance of making the finals was slipping away. 

At the gym, Fuma had stopped pretending he wasn’t watching. He wasn’t even bothering with work anymore. The gym wasn’t busy, and no one was paying attention to whether or not he was cleaning machines, so he stood at the front desk, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring at the screens above him. Watching Kei struggle, watching the team fight and falter, watching the minutes tick down on the clock made his stomach twist. They were so close. And yet, they couldn’t break through.

By the 75th minute, the game was still 1-0. Fuma’s fingers dug into his palm. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were better than this, Kei was better than this. And as the 80th minute passed, when the game slowed and everybody's bodies started to get heavy with exhaustion, Fuma started to accept that maybe they weren’t going to win and it was all going to be his fault.

But then, Kei moved. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a single sharp turn, a sudden burst of speed, a pass that cut through two defenders. But it was like something inside him had finally snapped into place, like he had remembered who the hell he was.

The last two minutes of stoppage time felt like they stretched for hours. The scoreboard still read 1-0, and the other team was desperately holding their lead. But Kei was fighting. He wasn’t hesitating anymore. And then finally, an opening. The ball came flying down the right wing, just past the penalty area.

Minho and Jiwoong were too covered, but Kei was there, charging forward, timing perfect. The ball bounced once, a half-second window, and an impossible angle, but Kei took the shot anyway. Fuma’s breath caught as the ball soared past the keeper, smashing into the back of the net.

1-1.

They finally tied it up, but the clock was still running and the other team was desperate to hold out. There was less than a minute left, and the other team started to stall, wasting time, and pushing the ball back. But Kei wasn’t letting them breathe. He was on them instantly, pressing, forcing mistakes, refusing to let the game go to extra time. And then, they slipped - a turnover - and suddenly Kei’s team had the ball, sprinting down the field and just before the final whistle, a last second cross into the box. And this time, Minho was ready with a picture-perfect header.

2-1. Game over.

They had won, which meant for the first time in years, the team was going to the finals. The team collapsed into each other, screams of victory echoing through the stadium. Kei was at the center of it all, teammates grabbing him, shaking him, screaming in his ear. Fuma could see the relief in the way Kei tilted his head back, laughing and smiling, and it warmed something in the younger alpha.

Fuma’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration cutting through the dull hum of the gym as he clocked out for the night.

Chan :

our boys won

you should’ve been here

The younger alpha exhaled slowly, staring at the message for a long moment before stuffing his phone back into his pocket with slightly shaky hands.

By the time he got back to the apartment, it was late. The air was still, the space too quiet, a sharp contrast to the energy that was probably still raging across campus as the team celebrated their victory. Kei wasn’t home. Of course, he wasn’t. He was probably out with Minho and the others, getting drinks, soaking up the moment, being surrounded by people who actually showed up for him. That smelly alpha was probably one of them. 

Fuma sighed, toeing off his shoes, already thinking about heading straight to his room, maybe sleeping off the mess of emotions tangled in his chest. But then something caught his eye. Right in the middle of the living room, laid out on the couch like it had been placed there on purpose, was Kei’s alternate jersey.

Fuma stopped in his tracks. And for a long moment, he just stared at it. The fabric was smooth, untouched, crisp white and black under the dim glow of the living room lamp. Like Kei had put it there deliberately, just in case Fuma had changed his mind, like Kei had wanted Fuma to be there, no matter how much he pretended it didn’t matter.

Fuma’s throat felt tight. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Because he had done this, he had convinced himself it was the right thing to do.

This distance between them - it wasn’t just affecting Fuma. It was affecting Kei, too. And suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he was protecting their friendship anymore. Or if he was the one destroying it.

Chapter Text

Fuma sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the jersey Kei had left out for him. The same white and black alternate jersey, crisp and clean, untouched. He felt like a fucking idiot. Like a coward. Like a shitty excuse for a friend.

Kei had done nothing wrong. Nothing. Not once had he hurt Fuma, or asked for this distance, nor gave Fuma a reason to pull away and yet, Fuma had still ignored him. Kei could fuck whoever he wanted, kiss whoever he wanted, walk around smelling like another alpha all damn day - and none of it would ever be Fuma's business.

Kei had noticed Fuma's shitty behaviour, had been affected by said shitty behaviour, and yet he had still left out the jersey. Like he had hoped, even at the very last second, that Fuma would change his mind, even after everything. And Fuma had let him down.

Fuma exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands over his face, but the weight in his chest didn’t budge. This wasn’t fixable with a simple apology. This wasn’t something he could laugh off, shove under the rug, pretend hadn’t happened. He had hurt Kei. Something inside him finally cracked at the realization. No more. He was done running.

Fuma was determined. He was gonna sit on the couch, wait for Kei to get home and then throw himself at his friends feet and beg for forgiveness. But when Fuma woke up hours later, the apartment was silent. 

Morning light spilled through the living room curtains, soft and golden, stretching across the wooden floors of the apartment. His head felt heavy, his limbs stiff from sleeping on the couch, and for a moment, his brain was too groggy to process anything. He even had the jersey tucked under his head, using it as a pillow. 

He looked around and saw Kei’s shoes by the door, his keys on the front hall table, and a blanket, soft and familiar, had been draped over Fuma’s body. Shit. Fuma didn't mean to fall asleep, but Kei must’ve come home pretty late. Kei never came home quietly and yet he had managed to tiptoe enough to not only make sure he didn’t wake the young alpha up, but also to make sure Fuma stayed comfortable in his sleep.  

Fuma ran a hand down his face as he sat up, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. He got to his feet, walked to the window, and pushed the curtains wide open. And as he stood there, breathing it in, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet, feeling the weight of his decision settle into his chest, Fuma decided. He would do anything to make Kei forgive him. And to start, he was gonna make breakfast. The perfect way to get an alpha’s forgiveness was through his stomach. Plus, he already knew exactly what to make.

Fuma had watched Mrs. Koga make it enough times during his trip to Kei’s hometown to know it was the older alpha's favourite.  He started with the tamagoyaki, a slightly sweet, layered omelet before grilling some salmon until it was carefully seared, the skin crisped just right. Fuma also put together a bowl of pickled vegetables because he had eaten with Kei enough times to know that he always needed something crunchy to balance out his meals. 

The alpha worked methodically, letting the motions settle him, letting the scent of the food fill the apartment. By the time the food was ready, the apartment smelled delicious. Fuma set the plates neatly on the table, grabbed two sets of chopsticks, and just waited.

Kei woke up slowly. His body felt heavy, the lingering weight of exhaustion pressing into his muscles, the remnants of too little sleep, too much booze, and too much running around during yesterday’s game making him sluggish. But then his nose caught a whiff of something cooking as it drifted through the apartment, the smell wrapping around him like a memory, like home, like something he hadn’t realized he had been missing.

His stomach grumbled loudly and he was stumbling out of bed and down the hallway before he realized. Kei rubbed at his eyes, blinking blearily as he stepped into the kitchen before stopping.  Because sitting at the table, surrounded by plates of food, chopsticks in hand, shoulders tense, was Fuma. For a moment, he thought he might still be dreaming. Because this didn’t make sense.

For days Fuma had been avoiding him, pushing him away, refusing to meet him halfway. And yet here he was, clearly waiting for him, with the older alpha’s favourite meal spread out on the table. Kei stared, and Fuma stared back, neither of them speaking. 

The older alpha wanted to believe that Fuma was back to normal, but after days of being ignored, after all the times he had waited, and waited, and waited, only for Fuma to keep pulling away… Kei wasn’t sure if he had it in him to hope again. So, he said the only thing his half-asleep, half-starving brain could come up with.

"You cooked?"

Fuma exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was bracing himself before nodding.

"Yeah. I made it for you," he said, voice quieter than usual. "To say congratulations for winning the semi-finals last night"

Kei’s stomach clenched, not from hunger, but from something else entirely. And suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat first or demand answers. He was still standing halfway into the kitchen, sleep-mussed hair sticking up at odd angles, his loose T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, when his stomach growled loudly again. And before he could stop himself, before he could let Fuma start whatever rehearsed apology he had prepared, Kei cut in.

"You watched it?"

"Yeah," Fuma admitted with almost a shy look on his face. "I had to work, but I still saw it on the TVs in the gym."

Kei exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. He wasn’t angry. Not like he thought he would be. After everything - after days of silence, after Fuma disappearing, after playing his heart out in the semi-finals only to look up and not see him there - Kei thought he would want answers. Thought he would want to demand why. But now, standing in their kitchen, watching Fuma look at him with those big, expectant eyes, waiting, hoping… Kei just felt tired. So instead of pressing further, instead of ruining whatever this moment was supposed to be, Kei just sighed softly and pulled out a chair before slowly sitting down. 

Fuma’s shoulders relaxed visibly, like he had been waiting for some kind of rejection, for Kei to turn away, for him to say this wasn’t enough. But it was. For now, at least.

Kei picked up his chopsticks, filling his plate with food and Fuma quickly followed, as if afraid the other alpha would suddenly change his mind and get up and leave. For the first time in what felt like too long, they sat at the table together. Like they always used to.

Kei took a bite of the grilled salmon, chewing slowly, letting the taste settle. It was good. More than good, actually. The fish was perfectly grilled, the vegetables were perfectly seasoned, and the tamagoyaki was just the way he liked it - slightly sweet, warm, soft. It was his favorite meal. Made just for him.

Kei paused eating, his gaze flickering up to Fuma, who was already watching him a little too closely, waiting for some kind of reaction. Fuma had barely touched his own food yet. He was nervous.

Kei exhaled quietly, picking up his tea and taking a slow sip.

"It’s good," he said, voice soft but steady.

Fuma blinked. Then, as if the tension finally snapped, he picked up his own chopsticks and dug in, like that was all he needed to hear. Kei watched him for a second longer before finally allowing himself to relax. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t the heavy, suffocating silence they had been living in. It was just… quiet. The clink of chopsticks against ceramic, the distant hum of morning traffic outside, the steam rising from their bowls.

When the meal was almost done, their plates nearly empty, and the silence between them less tense than it had been in weeks, Fuma swallowed hard and cleared his throat. Before he could talk himself out of it, he spoke.

"I’m sorry."

Kei froze, chopsticks hovering just above his plate, so Fuma pressed on. He took another breath, feeling the words start to tumble out before he lost his nerve.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me," he rushed out, his voice slightly uneven, fingers clenching on his thighs. "Not anytime soon. Or maybe even at all. And I get that. I do."

Kei set his drink back down, looking at the younger alpha who was glaring at the table. 

"I was a horrible friend. I ignored you, I hurt you, and I - I knew I was doing it. I knew, and I still did it anyway, and that makes me an even worse person." Fuma exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. 

"I’ve been going through a lot," he admitted, voice lower now, almost like it hurt to say it out loud. “Mentally. Emotionally. It’s been messing with me in ways I didn’t know how to handle. And I thought if I just took a step back, if I ignored it, if I ignored you, it would go away.” His throat tightened, and for a second, he had to stop, had to steady himself before he could continue. “But it didn’t. And instead of dealing with it, instead of talking to you, instead of just being honest - I shut you out.”

Kei’s jaw tensed slightly as Fuma let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

"And you didn’t deserve that. You’ve always been there for me, Kei. Always. Even when you had a million other things going on, even when I didn’t deserve it - you still showed up" Fuma looked down at his hands as a lump rose in his throat, but he forced it down. "But when you needed me, I didn’t show up for you. Not when it mattered. I should’ve been at your game. I should’ve been there for you." His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through. "And I hate that I wasn’t."

He finally looked up, meeting Kei’s gaze head-on. His eyes were glassy, tears threatening to fall. "I don’t want to be that kind of friend. I don’t want to be the person who lets you down."

The room was too quiet now, too full of everything unsaid. Kei hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked away, but Fuma couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was this too little, too late? Had he already ruined it beyond repair? Fuma straightened his shoulders, determined to finish what he had started. He sniffed, wiping away some of the tears that began to fall.

“I know words aren’t enough. I know I can’t just say ‘sorry’ and expect things to go back to normal overnight.” He saw the way Kei’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but Fuma wasn’t done.

“That’s why I’m not asking you to forgive me.” His voice steadied, more certain now. “I’m going to prove it. That I mean it. That I want to fix this. That I want…” He hesitated for just a second before pushing forward. “I want my best friend back.”

The words settled between them, raw and unpolished. Fuma let them sit there, let Kei hear them for what they were - an admission, a promise, a vow that he wasn’t going to keep running.

Kei hadn’t said a word yet, hadn’t given him any indication of how he was feeling. But for the first time, Fuma wasn’t afraid of the silence, because he had finally stopped lying to himself. And now, all that was left was waiting to see if Kei was still willing to meet him halfway.

The older alpha exhaled, setting his chopsticks down with a quiet clink against the table. He didn’t look angry, but didn’t look relieved either - just tired.

“Why didn’t you just come talk to me?” he asked, voice softer than Fuma expected. “If you were going through something, why didn’t you tell me?”

The question was simple, so the answer should have been even simpler. Because Kei had always been there. Always ready to listen, always willing to be whatever Fuma needed him to be. There had never been any reason to doubt that. But Fuma didn’t know what to say. Because the truth - the real, painful, gut-wrenching truth - was that Kei had been the problem. And how the hell was he supposed to say that? Fuma swallowed, throat tight, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his fingertips. 

This was his chance. He could just say it - say that ignoring Kei hadn’t been about Kei at all. That it had been about the way Fuma’s feelings had grown into something dangerous, something terrifying, something he hadn’t been ready to admit to himself. That it had been about the way his chest felt too tight whenever Kei looked at him, about the way his thoughts got tangled whenever Kei smiled, about the way being near him felt like standing at the edge of something he wasn’t sure he could survive. But the words wouldn’t come. They sat there, heavy in his throat, burning like something sharp and impossible to swallow. If he forced them out, he thought he might choke on them.

So, he didn’t. Instead, he shook his head.

"It was just… something I thought I could figure out myself," he muttered, voice lower now, almost like he wanted to take up less space. "I didn’t want to bother you with it."

Kei exhaled, a little heavier this time, leaning back in his chair. He studied Fuma for a long moment, like he was trying to find the cracks, trying to decide if he was going to push for more. But in the end, he didn’t. Instead, he just shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line.

"You’re a stubborn alpha" he muttered, but there was no real heat in the words.

Fuma huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah. I know."

Kei sighed again, long and slow, before reaching for his chopsticks and taking another bite of food. "I’ll only forgive you if you actually talk to me. No more excuses, no more shutting me out. Just tell me the truth."

Fuma inhaled slowly, steadying himself before exhaling again. His lungs felt tight. Like he was about to say something that couldn’t be unsaid. He didn’t know where to start. He rubbed his palms against his pants, gathering his thoughts, before finally forcing himself to speak.

“I think… I might be into alphas.” He didn’t look at Kei as he said it. He focused on the table, on the faint scratches in the wood, on the way his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. For a long moment, Kei didn’t say anything.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I don’t know. Kind of. I mean…” Fuma paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve always liked omegas. My whole life. I thought that was just - who I was. What I wanted. And then suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.”

His throat felt dry. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep going.

“I went home with Chanhee after the quarterfinals party - well I tried to. But it just felt… wrong. 

Kei’s brows furrowed slightly. “Wrong how?”

Fuma shifted in his seat. “I mean, I like him. He’s a good guy. We’ve kissed before, and it was fine. But that night, it was just -” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know, it was like my body wasn’t reacting the way it was supposed to. Like something in my head was telling me that this wasn’t what I actually wanted.”

He flexed his fingers, staring at his hands. “It threw me off. I started thinking about everything - about how maybe I’d been forcing myself to like omegas because that’s what I thought was normal. What I thought was expected. And when I realized I wasn’t as into it as I should’ve been, it just… messed me up.”

Kei was still silent and Fuma let out a dry laugh.

“I guess I spiraled. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, so I just… shut down. I thought maybe I just needed space to figure it out on my own, but that didn’t work either. And then before I knew it, I’d been avoiding you for days. I’m sorry”

The words hung between them and Fuma braced himself for Kei to be annoyed, or disappointed, or to tell him that he was being stupid, that it wasn’t that big of a deal. But instead, Kei tilted his head slightly, eyes soft.

“Oh Fuma,” he sighed.

Fuma blinked. “What?”

Before he could process what was happening, Kei reached across the small table and grabbed his hands. His fingers were warm, firm, grounding.

“Thank you,” Kei said, his voice steady but gentle. “For finally telling me the truth.”

Fuma swallowed hard. “Even if…”

“Even if what?” Kei interrupted, brow arching. “Even if you like alphas? You think that matters to me?”

Fuma exhaled, shaking his head. He knows Kei would be the last person on the planet to judge him for something. “I don’t know. I just - it’s a lot.”

“I know.” Kei nodded, his expression softening. “I went through this too, you know.”

“Really?”

Some part of Fuma always figured Kei had always known, had always accepted it and just knew that this was who he was supposed to be. He knew that Kei’s parents had raised him with zero expectations on what relationships should be like, except that they should be filled with nothing but love and understanding. 

Kei leaned back slightly, but he didn’t let go of Fuma’s hands. “I was a lot younger when I realized I liked alphas. I didn’t have a name for it at first, didn’t understand what it meant. But I had that same moment of panic.” His lips twitched, something like amusement in his expression. “Maybe not as dramatic as yours, but still.”

Fuma let out a breathy laugh. “Screw you.”

Kei grinned but didn’t let up. “But, at first, I thought there was something wrong with me for not being attracted to omegas like every other boy my age was.”

His fingers tightened around Fuma’s, just for a second.

“And you know what? It turned out fine.” Kei’s voice was quieter now, more serious. “I figured it out. I stopped fighting it. And I had people, my friends and family, who supported me through it.”

Fuma stared at him, throat tight.

Kei exhaled, shaking his head. “So, trust me when I say - it’s okay that you like alphas, Fuma.” His voice was unwavering, filled with certainty. “There’s nothing wrong with you. And no matter what happens, I’ll be here.”

Fuma froze, staring at their hands, at the way Kei’s thumbs brushed over his knuckles. He had been bracing himself for teasing, for some kind of sharp remark, but this felt different.

“You’re still my best friend, Fuma. That’s not going to change.” Kei squeezed his hands lightly. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Do you still feel wrong about it?”

“I don’t know,” The younger alpha admitted. “Not as much, maybe.”

Kei nodded once, as if accepting that answer. Then, after a pause, he said, “You’re not broken, Fuma.”

The younger alpha nearly flinched. “I didn’t say I was.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Fuma swallowed hard. He hated how Kei could read him so easily. But he hadn’t realized how tense he was until he felt himself relax, the weight in his chest easing just a little. Like for the first time in a week, Fuma felt like he could finally breathe again. 

For days, the thought of liking alphas had clung to him like a shadow, something uncertain and heavy, something that made his chest feel tight whenever he let himself think too hard about it. It had felt like a dirty secret - like something he had to shove into the deepest part of himself until he could figure out what the hell it even meant. But saying it out loud, admitting it to Kei, made it seem so much less scary.

Fuma shook his head, his lips pressing into something caught between a smirk and a sigh. “You’re too good to me.”

Kei just looked at him, eyes warm with something that made Fuma’s chest ache. “My best friend is going through a sexuality crisis,” The older alpha huffed, tilting his head slightly. “I’d be a dick if I didn’t help him.”

Fuma laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of patience, this unwavering loyalty. Kei wasn’t the type to throw around soft words for no reason.

Kei smiled, leaning his chin into his hand. “Besides, you did say you’d do anything to make it up to me.”

Fuma narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “...Yeah?”

Kei’s smile widened. “Like… even the dishes?”

Fuma groaned immediately, throwing his head back. “Oh my god.”

Kei didn’t even have to pout. He just kept looking at Fuma expectantly, one brow arched in amusement, like he already knew what Fuma’s answer would be. And, of course, he was right.

Fuma sighed dramatically but still stood, already collecting their dishes without another word.

Kei leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “Wow, no complaints? I should hold grudges against you way more often.”

Fuma shot him a glare over his shoulder but didn’t argue. Instead, he stacked the bowls together, carrying them to the sink before calling over his shoulder, “I said I’d do whatever for you, didn’t I?”

Kei didn’t reply right away. He just sat there, and hummed once with his cheek resting in his palm as he watched Fuma scrub their plates, his gaze soft. Maybe Fuma thought he had something to make up for, that he still felt guilty for shutting Kei out. But Kei had already forgiven him. And even if Fuma hadn’t realized it yet… Kei would do whatever for him too.

For the next few days, Fuma didn’t hesitate anymore. If Kei wanted him to do something - he did it. 

If Kei wanted a coffee, Fuma was already at the café, triple-checking the order to make sure it was exactly how he liked it. If Kei wanted company on a late-night walk, Fuma was at his side, his hands tucked into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out. If Kei wanted silence, Fuma swallowed every word threatening to spill from his mouth and just waited.

It was exhausting. Not because he didn’t want to do these things - he did. But because he wasn’t sure if Kei was actually softening toward him, or if he was just enjoying watching Fuma squirm. Kei has always been difficult to read. He was patient in a way that made Fuma nervous, always thinking ten steps ahead. He never rushed things. Never gave anything away for free.

The older alpha was leaning against the counter of their shared apartment, watching as Fuma wiped down the table with slow, careful movements. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, the veins in his forearms visible as he worked.

"You're being so obedient," Kei mused, voice smooth as he sipped at the coffee Fuma had gotten him just minutes before. "I should ignore you more often."

Fuma clenched his jaw. He knew Kei was only teasing, but the words still stung. Kei must’ve noticed the slight bitterness seeping into the younger alpha’s scent, because his expression turned sympathetic as he stepped forward, brushing his wrist against Fuma’s neck in a light scenting. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I deserve it” Fuma shook his head. It was frustrating how easily the older alpha could disarm him. How a single brush of his fingers could turn Fuma’s resolve into something soft, pliant.

Kei took another slow sip of his coffee, his dark eyes watching Fuma over the rim of his cup. He didn’t have to say anything - his silence was enough to make Fuma’s skin prickle with anticipation.

The apartment felt too quiet. The only sounds were the occasional clink of ceramic against the counter and the distant hum of the city outside their window. It made Fuma hyperaware of everything - the way Kei’s lips parted slightly before taking another sip, the way the loose collar of his sweater revealed just a hint of his collarbone, the way his fingers drummed against the side of his mug, waiting.

Fuma swallowed, shifting his weight between his feet. Kei had always had this effect on him, drawing him in like gravity, making him second-guess himself even when he thought he had things figured out. It was infuriating.

“So, how long are you going to make me do this?” Fuma finally asked, his voice lower than he intended.

Kei set his coffee down with deliberate care, tilting his head slightly as if considering the question. “That depends,” he said. “Are you tired of it already?”

Fuma gripped the rag tighter. No. That was the problem. If Kei asked him to keep proving himself, he would. If Kei dragged this out for days, weeks, Fuma would still be here, waiting, watching for any sign of forgiveness - of warmth - underneath Kei’s teasing exterior. He had it way too bad for the older alpha.

In a way, it became easier to ignore his feelings. Despite the confusing swirl of feelings Fuma couldn't quite shake, he continued being friends with Kei. Every time he saw the older alpha, it was easy to push those thoughts of attraction away. Having Kei back at his side in class, at the gym, at home - it was worth way more than whatever inner turmoil he was dealing with. He didn’t want to risk ruining what they had, and certainly not over something he didn’t understand himself.

Their friends noticed the shift between them. No one said anything outright, but Fuma caught the small glances exchanged between them. The way Juyeon smirked knowingly whenever Fuma and Kei sat too close. The way Minho rolled his eyes every time Fuma followed Kei without hesitation. The way Kevin and Hyunjae whispered to each other whenever Fuma let Kei steal food off his plate like it was nothing. He ignored it all.

‘This is how things are supposed to be’ he told himself when Kei bumped his shoulder in the change room, laughing at something stupid Fuma had said. Or when Kei would grumble at him, shoving Fuma’s shoulder lightly as he told the younger alpha to move. 

“You take up too much space.”

Fuma, already half-asleep on the couch, cracked one eye open to glare at him. “You have an entire apartment. Sit somewhere else.”

Kei didn’t answer. He just sighed dramatically before slumping down beside Fuma, pushing him until he made enough room. Fuma didn’t complain. He never did. Because the moment Kei was settled, head tilted back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut, Fuma let himself look. Just for a second. The sharp angle of Kei’s jaw. The way his lashes cast shadows against his cheekbones. The way his sweater slipped off one shoulder, revealing just a hint of collarbone. Fuma swallowed.

‘This is fine,’ he told himself.

Even when Kei turned his head slightly, peeking at Fuma through half-lidded eyes, the corner of his lips quirking up and the younger alpha would feel something twist in his chest. 

‘This is enough’ 

He had his best friend back. That was all that mattered.

Fuma was in the middle of catching up on one of his anime’s when his phone buzzed beside him. He glanced at the screen, expecting another group chat notification or a reminder for class, but instead, he saw his sister’s name.

Yui: Hey! Are you free for lunch today?

It had been a while since he’d seen her. Yui and her mate lived close, but with work, classes, and everything else, Fuma hadn’t had much time to visit.

Fuma: Yeah, where do you want to meet?

Yui: That quiet café near the park? I’ll bring Hina with me!

Fuma smiled at the mention of his niece. Hina was just a toddler - small, chubby-cheeked, and way too cute for her own good. He didn’t get to see her as often as he wanted, but every time he did, she seemed to grow bigger.

Kei walked out of his room, towel-drying his hair. “You’re smiling at your phone,” he said, raising a brow. “Who is it?”

“Yui,” Fuma said, already getting up to grab his jacket. “I’m meeting her for lunch. Want to come?”

Kei shook his head, a smile on his face. “I’ll pass. Enjoy family time.”

Fuma arrived at the quiet café just a little past noon, stepping inside to the familiar warmth of wood tones, soft lighting, and the quiet hum of conversation. The place hadn’t changed since he’d last been here, and neither had the feeling of comfort that settled over him the moment he spotted his sister sitting by the window. Yui had her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, dressed casually but effortlessly put together, as always. Her mate wasn’t here - probably working - but their daughter, Hina, was bouncing excitedly in her high chair, gripping a small stuffed bear in her chubby hands. The moment Hina saw him, her wide, round eyes lit up.

“Fufu!” she squealed, reaching her tiny arms toward him. Fuma’s heart melted on the spot.

“Fuma!” Yui grinned as she stood up to hug him. 

“You taught her to call me that?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from Yui while reaching out to ruffle Hina’s hair.

Yui smirked. “She came up with it herself.”

Hina babbled something unintelligible, then thrust her bear toward Fuma like an offering.

“For me?” he asked, pretending to be shocked and Hina nodded, very serious.

Fuma took the light brown bear, squeezing it between his fingers. “Wow, so soft.” He handed it back with a solemn nod. “You’ve got good taste, kid.”

Hina giggled, clapping her hands together. “Fufu!” she called again, reaching up to try and pat his cheeks with her tiny hands. “Soft!”

Fuma groaned, but he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. “Great. Even a toddler thinks I’m soft.”

“Well, you are soft. Just not with everyone.” Yui grinned. “She’s been obsessed with you lately. We showed her some old pictures of you, and now every time she sees someone tall, she points and goes ‘Fufu!’”

Fuma laughed, but something warm and tight settled in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this - missed them.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, glancing at Yui.

She blinked, surprised for only a second before her expression softened. “Yeah, I’ve missed you too.”

They hadn’t meant to drift apart. Life had just gotten busy with his university schedule, her new life as a mother, their separate responsibilities. But sitting here, across from her again, it hit Fuma just how much time had passed.

“You look tired.” Yui leaned forward to look at him better. 

Fuma scoffed, but let her pat his cheek affectionately before pulling away. “That’s just my face.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it. It’s been too long.”

They both fell into easy conversation after that - talking about Hina’s newest antics, about Yui’s mate and how work had been keeping them busy, about Fuma’s classes and his friends. Yui stirred her tea slowly, watching Fuma over the rim of her cup. Her gaze wasn’t sharp, but it was perceptive in a way that made him shift slightly in his seat.

“So,” she said, tone casual, “how’s Kei?”

Fuma hesitated. It wasn’t even a long pause, just a flicker of uncertainty - barely a second - but Yui caught it immediately.

Her lips curled, amused. “That bad?”

Fuma sighed, shaking his head. “No, not bad. We just… had a bit of a bump in our relationship.”

Yui arched a brow. “But you fixed it?”

“For the better,” he confirmed.

That answer seemed to satisfy her, but only for a moment. She set her cup down, folding her hands together, eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him.

“What happened?” she asked.

Fuma opened his mouth, then closed it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her. It was just that Yui had always been a little too wise - maybe it was an older sister thing, or maybe she just knew him too well - but it was like she could always read his mind. Even when he didn’t want her to. She tilted her head, waiting as Fuma exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

“I -” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I was dealing with some stuff. Personal stuff. And instead of talking about it, I kinda… shut down for a bit.”

“Personal, huh?” Yui hummed, tapping her nails against the rim of his cup. “Was it about your crush on Kei?”

Fuma choked. He coughed violently, grabbing his napkin as he tried to get air back into his lungs. Across the table, Yui simply raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with his dramatics.

“Excuse me?!” Fuma croaked, eyes wide.

Yui shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’m just saying.”

“You -” Fuma stared at her like she had just grown another head. “You cannot just say shit like that out of nowhere!”

Yui smirked. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”

Fuma groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Oh my god.”

Yui laughed, nudging his arm. “Relax. I’m not saying you need to marry him tomorrow.”

The alpha just groaned louder.

“But,” she continued, “you and Kei have always been close. Too close. And if I’m being honest?” She tapped her nails against the table. “I always wondered if it was more than just friendship for you.”

“It’s not like that,” he muttered, though it sounded weak even to his own ears. Fuma sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand as he watched Hina munch happily on a piece of fruit.

Yui was still looking at him. Not pushing, not demanding. just waiting. And, like always, she didn’t have to say a word for Fuma to break.

“…Maybe,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Yui tilted her head. “Maybe?”

Fuma exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I have a small crush on Kei.”

Yui didn’t react right away, just blinking at him with unreadable eyes. Then she smirked. “You don’t say.”

He liked spending time with Kei. He liked how easy it felt when they were together, how the older alpha could read him without him having to say anything. He liked the way Kei grabbed his wrist when he was walking too fast, or how he nudged his shoulder whenever he was being stubborn, or how his stupidly sharp eyes always softened when they were just sitting together in silence. But the confusing part was he gay just for Kei? Because sure, some of his friends were alphas, but he’d never thought about them like that.

Fuma had never once looked at Minho or Jiwoong and thought about how broad their shoulders were or how strong their hands looked, or never caught himself watching them too closely, remembering how they smelled, feeling too aware of the space between them. His stomach turned at the thought of them dating someone else. He just sighed, picking at the edge of his napkin, eyes unfocused.

“I don’t… like alphas,” he muttered.

Yui raised a brow, unimpressed. “You literally just said you had a crush on Kei.”

“I mean - I never have. Not like that. I don’t - I’ve never been attracted to one before.” He frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “But Kei is… different”

That made Yui pause. She set her cup down, tilting her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

Fuma exhaled, staring down at his drink like it held all the answers. “I mean… when I look at other alphas, I don’t really notice them. Not like I do with him.”

Yui stayed quiet, letting him talk.

“There are plenty of good-looking alphas, right?” he continued, voice low. “I see that. But it’s just… whatever. It doesn’t do anything for me.” He shook his head. “But with Kei…”

Because how was he supposed to explain it? That every time Kei was near, his pulse jumped? That every time Kei laughed, it felt like a punch to the chest? That every time Kei looked at him a second too long, Fuma felt like he was drowning?

He swallowed, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. “It’s always been different.”

Yui hummed, leaning forward slightly. “So, what you’re saying is… you’re not into alphas.”

“No.”

“You’re just into Kei.” Yui laughed, nudging his foot under the table. “That’s not as complicated as you’re making it sound, you know.”

“It feels complicated.”

“Only because you’re making it that way.”

Fuma looked up at her, exasperated. “How are you so calm about this?”

Yui smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “Because I know you. And I’ve known this for way longer than you have.”

The alpha blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Oh, come on.” Yui rolled her eyes. “You follow Kei around like a lost puppy, let him get away with everything, and drop everything the second he so much as looks like he needs something.” She arched a brow. “You didn’t think that was a little suspicious?”

Fuma opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, realizing he had absolutely nothing to say. Because she wasn’t wrong.

She smirked at his silence. “See? You’re so obvious it hurts.”

Fuma groaned, dropping his forehead against the table causing all the dishware to rattle.

Yui chuckled. “Relax. It’s not a bad thing.”

“It feels like a bad thing.”

“No, Fuma. Liking someone isn’t bad. Confusing? Maybe. Terrifying? Probably. But bad? Never.” Yui shook her head. “You know, liking someone isn’t about their sub-gender, right?”

Fuma exhaled, rubbing his temple. “That doesn’t help.”

“Think about it,” she said. “If Kei were an omega, would that change how you feel?”

Fuma’s chest tightened because he already knew the answer. And that was the problem. It wouldn’t change, it wouldn’t matter. Kei was still Kei. And Fuma…Fuma still felt the same.

His sister must have seen something in his face because she smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Fuma swallowed, gripping the napkin in his hands. “I just don’t like how it feels like everything’s changing?”

“It’s okay if it is.” She reached out, ruffling his hair like he was still the younger brother who used to trail after her as a kid. “You’ll figure it out. And when you do, it’s going to make a lot more sense than it does right now.”

Fuma sighed, leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not.

“What if Mom and Dad find out?” he asked, voice quieter now.

Yui’s smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer. She didn’t ask him to elaborate because she didn’t have to.

Their family had never outright said anything negative about same-subgender relationships, but there were always implications. The way their father always spoke about strong alpha-omega pairings. The way their mother dreamed of Fuma settling down with a perfect little omega to carry on the family line. She reached across the table, resting a hand over Fuma’s.

“Then they find out,” she said simply.

Fuma swallowed. “Yui -”

“Fuma,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Who you do or don’t like? It’s none of their business.”

Fuma exhaled slowly.

“It’s okay to like the same sub-gender,” Yui continued. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t owe them an explanation. And you definitely don’t need their permission to be yourself.”

Fuma bit the inside of his cheek, nodding, even if some part of him still struggled to fully believe it.

“You know, I was so close to having an arranged marriage?” Yui eventually admits and Fuma glances up at her, surprised.

“Seriously?”

“I had just barely started university, and mom was freaking out that I was wasting my ‘most fertile years’, so she said that the only way she’d let me continue going to school was if I got married. She had a list of alphas ready and everything and it was literally on the day I was supposed to choose my future husband, that I actually met my future husband. We ran into each other in the quad and I may have lied to mom and dad, and told them I was already courting an alpha”

“I had no idea” Fuma shook his head. He always thought Yui and her mate’s courting was a bit faster than most, but who was he to judge? Now, it all made sense. He had saved her from a loveless marriage. 

“In their minds, they just want the best for us,” Yui sighed. “But if there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s this: You don’t live your life for them, Fuma. You live it for you.”

Fuma exhaled, shoulders sagging slightly. It was easier said than done. But maybe… maybe she was right.

Yui smirked, giving his hand one last squeeze before pulling back. “And, you know. If Kei does turn out to be your one true love, at least he’s hot.”

“Oh my god, shut up” he groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

“What? I’m just saying.”Yui laughed, sipping her tea like she hadn’t just destroyed him. Even Hina, completely oblivious to the entire conversation, banged her spoon against the table, laughing along like she somehow understood the joke.

Maybe things would make sense eventually. But for now, he just had to take it one step at a time.

Chapter Text

Fuma had spent too much time worrying about how people saw him and Kei, about how people would react if they knew, what his parents would think, what his friends would assume, what it meant to be an alpha attracted to another alpha.

The fear of it had ruled him for weeks, twisting inside his chest, making him second-guess himself over and over again. But what if - for once - he didn’t care? What if he stopped worrying about what it meant and just focused on how he felt? Because when he let go of all the noise - when he stopped thinking about the expectations, the labels, the what-ifs - Kei was still his best friend.

He was still the same person who had been by his side since the moment he met him. The same person who made him laugh when he was having a bad day, who always knew what to say even when Fuma didn’t. Kei was the person he trusted more than anyone. The person he always wanted to be around, even when they weren’t doing anything at all. And if that meant something more than friendship, if that meant his feelings weren’t just platonic, then maybe that wasn’t something to be afraid of. Maybe that was something worth leaning into.

It started small. Fuma let Kei flirt with him like he always did. Let him touch him, tease him, get in his space. But this time, he didn’t pull away, or roll his eyes, and he didn’t shove Kei off like usual. It wasn’t even a conscious decision at first, it was just little things. Like letting Kei sling an arm over his shoulder without shaking him off, letting him press closer when they sat side by side on the couch, their knees knocking together, and letting him lean in when he whispered something teasing, his breath warm against Fuma’s ear.

Then came the gym. It was part of their usual routine. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. They went at the same time every day, pushing each other, competing, challenging themselves.

Kei was lying back on the bench, hands wrapped around the bar, his arms flexing as he pushed the weight up and lowered it again. His breath was steady but heavy, his face damp with sweat, his brows furrowed in concentration. Fuma had spotted him like this a hundred times before. He had stood right where he was now, looking down at him, making sure Kei didn’t drop the weight, and didn't push too hard.

But today his focus slipped. Because suddenly, now all he could notice was Kei beneath him, with sweat clinging to his skin, with his shirt slightly damp against his chest, and how the sharp lines of his jaw got more defined as he gritted his teeth and exhaled through the effort. It was the way Kei’s grunts echoing through Fuma’s ears, the controlled rhythm of his breath, the tension in his arms and shoulders, the sheer strength in every movement. The younger alpha’s throat felt dry.

“Five more,” he forced out, keeping his voice even.

Kei grunted in response, adjusting his grip before pushing through another rep. Fuma’s fingers hovered just beneath the bar, like always, ready to help if needed. But his attention was nowhere near where it was supposed to be.

The older alpha’s muscles tensed, his veins protruding slightly with the effort, his entire body moving with a precise, controlled power. And then he exhaled sharply, voice rough as he pushed through his last rep, arms trembling just slightly before he racked the bar back up.

The older alpha let his head fall back against the bench, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before opening again, locking onto Fuma’s. Kei’s lips curled, just slightly, just enough but before he could say anything, Fuma jerked his head towards the squat racks. 

“Let’s go. Next workout”

Kei positioned himself under the metal bar at the squat rack, gripping it firmly before straightening, the weight settling across his back. Fuma stepped closer, hands hovering just beside Kei’s waist as the older alpha dropped into his first squat. Fuma could feel the heat radiating off Kei’s body, see the way his shirt stretched taut over his back, clinging to him, damp with sweat, and could hear the controlled breath Kei let out as he pushed up from the squat, muscles flexing under the weight. And maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was something else entirely, but without thinking, Fuma’s hands lingered.

The younger alpha could feel the tension of muscles beneath his palms, the warmth of Kei’s skin even through his shirt. He could feel the way Kei’s waist tapered in slightly before flaring out into strong hips, the way his body moved under his hands as he lowered into another squat. Sweat dripped down the back of Kei’s neck, trailing slowly between his shoulder blades before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt and suddenly Fuma was overwhelmed with the urge to lean in and drag his tongue against the damp skin. He wanted to taste the salt on Kei’s body, to press his mouth against the sweat-slicked curve of his throat and - Fuck.

Fuma ripped his gaze away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. He fought hard to control his scent but it wasn’t easy - his body was betraying him, instincts clawing at his resolve, urging him to give in. But he refused. Kei couldn’t know what was starting to build in the younger alpha’s scent - the subtle shift in his usual spiced vanilla and leather, the slow, creeping warmth of something more potent, more dangerous, more wanting. Fuma locked his muscles, forced his body to stay still, forced his breathing to remain steady even as his hands continued to at Kei’s waist.

He did want to tell him. He wanted to finally admit it, to just say it and get it off his chest. But the timing never felt right. Midterms were creeping up on them, stress already settling in like a storm cloud over campus. Between late-night study sessions and exhaustion-fueled library runs, Fuma barely had time to breathe, let alone figure out how to confess to Kei.

And then there was the championship game. Kei’s final championship game. The one he’d been working toward for years. The one that scouts were attending, that could make or break his future in the sport. Fuma wasn’t going to risk ruining that. So, he waited, even as the weight of it sat heavy in his chest, even as his feelings pressed up against the edges of his ribs, clawing at him from the inside, begging to be let out - he waited.

He swallowed it down every time Kei smiled at him, every time he caught himself staring too long, every time Kei got too close and made Fuma’s pulse trip over itself. He told himself he’d wait until after the game. That he’d tell Kei when it was over, when there was nothing left looming over them, no excuses left to hide behind. Plus, Fuma could see the stress of everything finally taking a toll on Kei. He could see the way the other alpha’s shoulders were wound too tight. The way his usual sharp confidence was dulled, his movements just a little less fluid, his jaw locked in quiet tension.

Kei wasn’t the type to let nerves show, but Fuma knew him better than anyone. And Kei right now, was stressed.

The championship game was only a few days away, and between practices, meetings with his coach, and the pressure of ‘this is my last shot’, it was all starting to wear on him.

Fuma didn’t say anything about it at first. He just watched, waited, until the signs became impossible to ignore. Kei wasn’t sleeping well. He barely touched his food at lunch. Even in the gym, he was overworking himself, pushing too hard, too fast, like he was trying to force himself into peak condition before game day. So Fuma decided to step in, helping out where Kei couldn’t provide for himself. Like a protein shake left on Kei’s desk before practice, or his favorite energy bars slipped into his gym bag. Even a casual “Don’t push too hard today” whenever they trained together, which Kei usually brushed off with a smirk but didn’t argue. And when Kei came back to their apartment one night, exhausted and silent, Fuma shoved a hot meal in front of him without a word.

Kei blinked, looking down at the bowl of rice and miso soup, then up at Fuma.

“You cooked?”

Fuma nodded, sitting across from him. “You need the energy for your game tomorrow.”

Kei huffed out a quiet laugh, but there was something softer in his expression as he picked up his chopsticks. “Thanks, Fuma”

They ate in comfortable silence, Fuma keeping a close eye on him. Kei looked so tired, dark circles faint under his eyes, but as he ate, some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders.

Game day had finally arrived. And Kei was losing his mind.

Fuma stood calmly in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, watching as the older alpha tore through their apartment like a man possessed.

"Where the hell is my other cleat?" Kei snapped, digging through the pile of shoes by the door before rushing into his room and throwing open his closet.

Fuma took another slow sip. "Under the couch."

Kei froze mid-step, turned, then immediately dropped to the floor, reaching under the couch. A moment later, he yanked out the missing cleat, staring at it like it had personally betrayed him.

Fuma snorted. "You're welcome."

Kei didn’t even have time to roll his eyes before he was moving again, scrambling around the apartment like a headless chicken.

"Jersey - where’s my jersey?"

"Folded on your bed," Fuma said, already moving toward Kei’s gym bag to make sure it was properly packed.

"Did I eat? I didn’t eat…"

"You ate," Fuma interrupted. "And if you freak out any more, I’m shoving another protein bar down your throat."

Kei grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue. He darted back into his room, coming back seconds later in his full kit, cleats in hand, hair still slightly damp from his shower.

Fuma zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before handing Kei a water bottle. “Drink this before we leave.”

The older alpha took it without thinking, chugging half before finally stopping long enough to let out a long breath. His hands were still jittery, bouncing against his thighs. Fuma watched him for a second before stepping forward, reaching out, and squeezing Kei’s shoulder. Kei blinked, looking up at him.

“You got this,” Fuma said, voice steady. “It’s just another game.”

Kei exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

Fuma squeezed again. “And if you suck, I’ll still buy you dinner after.”

Kei finally let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. “Gee, thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Kei rolled his shoulders, shaking out his nerves. Then, finally he seemed to settle.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his things.

Fuma nodded, following him out the door. And as they walked toward the stadium, Kei’s steps a little steadier because he knew, no matter how this game went, Fuma would be right there at his side.

The drive to the stadium was loud. Kei had his music blasting, bass shaking the car as he drummed his fingers anxiously against his thigh. He wasn’t singing along like he usually did - just staring out the window, buzzing with nerves, his knee bouncing restlessly. Fuma didn’t say anything about it. He just focused on the road, letting Kei burn off his energy however he needed to. 

Every once in a while, when the car stopped at a red light, Kei would glance over - just for a second - and Fuma knew what he was looking at. The jersey. Kei’s jersey. Fuma had thrown it on without thinking this morning, pairing it with a sports jacket because of the late-November chill. But when Kei had seen him wearing it before they left, he’d just given a small nod of approval, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Something warm curled in Fuma’s chest at the memory.

They pulled up to the stadium, and as expected, the place was packed. Fans, students, alumni - everyone had turned out for Kei’s final game. Fuma drove past the main entrance, weaving through the parking lot with a scowl. Completely full. Kei didn’t even seem to notice. He was already shifting in his seat, gathering his things, cracking his knuckles. Fuma rolled up to the back entrance, where the opposing team’s bus had already unloaded.

Kei exhaled sharply. “Alright.”

Fuma shifted into park, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “You good?”

Kei turned to look at him, exhaling through his nose. “Yeah. Just… ready to get this over with.”

“Try to have fun while you’re at it.”

Kei snorted but didn’t argue. He grabbed his bag, adjusting the strap over his shoulder, then reached for the door handle, but then he paused, and before Fuma could ask why - Kei reached out, fingers hooking into the collar of his jersey, tugging lightly.

“I really like how this looks on you,” Kei murmured.

And then, just like that, he was gone, slipping out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Fuma sat there for a full three seconds, gripping the wheel way too tight, his ears burning, his heart hammering so hard it hurt.

Then he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fucking hell.”

He took a deep breath, shoved Kei’s words deep, deep down, and drove off to find parking. Which, of course, was nowhere. After circling the lot twice, he finally gave up and pulled into a staff-only spot near the back. He stared at the very obvious sign warning against unauthorized vehicles, sighed, and turned off the engine anyway. They’ll live. Tugging his jacket tighter against the cold, Fuma grabbed his phone and started toward the stadium.

The energy inside was electric - students, alumni, and fans from both teams were all buzzing with excitement, the murmur of voices blending with the occasional chant or cheer as people waited for the teams to take the field. The stands were already overflowing, but Fuma wasn’t worried. Kevin, Chan, and Hyunjae had promised to save him a seat. He pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text.

Fuma:

where are you guys?

Kevin:

section B, halfway up.

we can see the whole field from here.

Fuma nodded to himself, weaving through the crowd. He passed groups of students wrapped in team scarves, concession stands handing out hot chocolate, and there was even a few overly excited superfans who had painted their chests in school colors despite the freezing weather.

By the time he finally reached Section B, he spotted them immediately. Chan, ever the responsible one, was sitting calmly in his seat, sipping from a thermos like he wasn’t surrounded by absolute chaos. Hyunjae was standing on his seat, waving his arms wildly, clearly trying to get Fuma’s attention. Kevin, sitting beside him, looked deeply embarrassed but wasn’t doing anything to stop him.

Fuma sighed and climbed the steps toward them. The second Hyunjae spotted him, he grinned, pointing dramatically. “There he is!”

Fuma shoved his hands into his pockets, pretending like he didn’t hear him.

Chan, looking up from his thermos, smirked. “Nice jersey.”

Fuma rolled his eyes but didn’t deny anything. Instead, he slid into the seat that had been left open between Kevin and Chan, exhaling as he finally settled in.

“This place is insane,” Fuma muttered, glancing around at the sea of fans filling the stands.

Chan nodded, looking around the full stadium. “Yeah, you’d think this was a pro game with how packed it is.”

Hyunjae dropped into his seat, still grinning. “Of course it’s packed! It’s Kei’s last game - and the championship. People will be talking about this for years.”

Kevin stole a sip of whatever Chan was drinking. “And Fuma’s clearly part of the fan club.”

Fuma shot him a look. “You’re literally wearing a school scarf right now.”

Kevin shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m not out here wearing his name on my back.”

Fuma scowled. “I should be allowed to wear team merch because I’ve been to more games than you.  You and Hyunjae only started showing up when you realized the team was actually good.”

“Uh, yeah,” Hyunjae said. “That’s how sports work.”

Before Fuma could argue back, the stadium lights dimmed, and the sound of the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. The place erupted as the players ran onto the field. Music blasted through the speakers, but it was barely audible over the roaring cheers from their school section. The entire student body seemed to be on their feet, screaming, clapping, waving banners and flags as their team took their positions on the field. Fuma stood too, caught up in the sheer energy of it all.

It was deafening - the kind of noise that sent a thrill through the air, made the stadium vibrate with raw excitement. And then Kei ran out. The second his cleats hit the grass, the cheers somehow grew even louder. Fuma’s breath hitched.

Kei looked every bit the star player - jersey stretched across his broad shoulders, hair damp from warm-ups, jaw locked in sharp focus. His entire presence commanded attention, exuding the kind of confidence that could only come from years of being the best.

He scanned the crowd, sharp eyes flicking over the stands, taking in the sea of students screaming his name. Fuma knew there was no way Kei would be able to see him with all these people wearing the same colours but then it did seem like the other alpha’s gaze landed right on the section he was in. 

Fuma’s fingers curled instinctively around the fabric of Kei’s jersey, tugging at it slightly as the captain grinned, before his focus snapped back to the field.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjae yelled over the noise, grabbing Fuma’s arm and shaking him violently. “HE TOTALLY LOOKED AT YOU.”

Fuma shoved him off. “Shut up.”

Chan, smirking into his thermos, hummed. “Kinda looked like a ‘that’s mine’ stare.”

Fuma clenched his jaw, choosing to ignore them as the team took their positions.

The whistle eventually blew. And just like that, the championship game was underway. The opening kick sent the ball soaring across the field, and immediately, both teams sprung into action. The energy was electric, players moving in a blur of quick passes and aggressive challenges, the sound of cleats digging into the grass barely audible beneath the roaring crowd. Fuma’s heart pounded.

Kei was already in motion, weaving through the midfield with effortless precision, his movements sharp, controlled. He wasn’t just playing - he was commanding the field, dictating the pace, calling for passes, slipping through defenders like they weren’t even there. The opposing team knew exactly who he was - the star player, the one they had to shut down if they wanted to win. Two defenders immediately closed in on him the second he got the ball. But Kei was used to this. Instead of panicking, he shifted his weight, feinting to the right before cutting left at the last second, leaving both defenders stumbling. The crowd exploded, a collective roar of approval as Kei sprinted forward, launching a pass across the field to his teammate in perfect rhythm.

“Holy shit, he’s on fire,” Chan breathed beside Fuma, eyes wide.

Fuma didn’t answer. He was too busy watching Kei move. Every game, Kei played like he had something to prove. But tonight, he played like he had everything to lose. Fuma could see it in the way he threw himself into every tackle, the way he pushed his body just a little harder than necessary, the way he refused to let anyone outrun him. This wasn’t just a game. This was his last game. And Kei was making damn sure no one would forget it.

The first fifteen minutes passed in a blur - intense back-and-forth plays, close calls, near misses. Their team controlled possession, pressing hard against the defense, but the opposing goalie was a brick wall, blocking every shot thrown his way. Tension thickened in the air. The crowd felt it. The players definitely felt it. And then, a breakthrough.

Kei intercepted a pass at midfield, stealing the ball cleanly before surging forward. He picked up speed, dodging one, two, three defenders before charging straight into the penalty area. He had one shot.

The goalie lunged forward, arms spread wide but Kei didn’t hesitate, a strong kick sent the ball flying. And in one perfect second, it soared past the keeper, into the back of the net. The stadium erupted and Fuma barely registered Chan and Hyunjae screaming, barely noticed Kevin shaking his shoulders. The jumbotron showed Kei, his chest heaving, face flushed, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips, like he knew exactly who he had just scored for.

Fuma’s grip tightened on his jersey. Kei’s goal had ignited the stadium, but the game was far from over. The opposing team didn’t back down, responding with an intensity that sent adrenaline surging through every player on the field. Their offense pressed harder, their midfielders tightened their formation, their defenders stopped giving Kei an inch of space. And they managed to slip through, and get a score of their own. Kei was already marching the ball back to midfield for the restart, his shoulders tense, his focus razor-sharp.

The game restarted, and immediately, Kei’s team pushed forward again. The captain was everywhere, a blur of motion as he directed plays, cutting through defenders, passing with precision. But the other team knew he was the danger - they had him double-marked, shadowing his every move. Fuma could see it, they wanted to shut him down, but Kei wasn’t the only weapon on the field.

As soon as the defense collapsed onto him, Kei did the unexpected - instead of forcing a shot, he sent a clean pass through the gap, straight to Seonghwa who passed it behind him to Minho.

One touch. One strike. Goal.

The stadium exploded again, their school section losing their minds.

“THEY’RE ON FIRE!” Kevin cheered, nearly spilling his overpriced beer. 

“You watching your boyfriend work his magic?!” Hyunjae yelled as he shook Chan violently, the other alpha just laughing. 

But just when it seemed like the momentum was finally in their favor, the opposing team struck back. They attacked relentlessly, pushing harder, faster. Their number 10 - the other school’s captain, their star - weaved through defenders, mirroring Kei’s movements, matching his energy.

A dangerous free kick from just outside the box, their midfielder curling the ball just over the wall, just past Mark’s fingertips. 2-2.

The stadium was frenzied now - screams, chants, tension so thick it was suffocating. Every person in the stands was on their feet, watching the final minutes tick down. 

“This is insane,” Chan muttered, gripping his thermos like his life depended on it.

Fuma’s heart was in his throat. This was it. The last chance to break the tie.

Kei was gasping for air, sweat dripping down his temple, his movements still sharp but visibly exhausted. He had been pushing nonstop all game, covering every inch of the field, running harder than anyone else. And yet, he wasn’t slowing down. 

Kei, his Kei, looked like a man possessed. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

A perfectly timed steal from the midfield sent the ball flying toward the wing, where Juyeon sprinted down the side, defenders closing in fast.

“GO, YUDAI!” Fuma heard himself yell, barely recognizing his own voice.

The older alpha broke through the midfield, sprinting down the wing, outrunning his marker like it was nothing. A defender lunged, trying to take him down, but Kei jumped over the tackle, barely losing momentum. It was a split-second decision. Juyeon kicked the ball - a high cross curled toward the box - too high for a regular shot. Fuma held his breath as Kei jumped, body twisting mid-air, his right foot connecting perfectly with the ball in a thunderous volley. It shot toward the goal like a bullet, the goalie dived, but it was too late. The net rippled with impact. The cheers that followed were deafened, the stomps shaking the structure of the stadium. 

They had done it. 3-2. 

The team piled onto Kei, the alpha’s body disappearing underneath a pile of black and white. 

Fuma couldn’t think. He barely registered Kevin shaking him, barely processed Chan losing his damn mind, barely noticed Hyunjae screaming Kei’s name with the rest of the school section. Students screamed, the school section roared, and then the floodgates opened. The crowd rushed the field, surging down the stands in a wave of bodies, pushing past security, spilling onto the grass in a blur of school colors and wild celebration. Fuma barely had time to react before Chan grabbed him by the wrist.

“Come on!” His friend shouted, dragging him down the bleachers, shoving past people as they joined the rush onto the field.

Fuma let himself be pulled forward, heart still hammering, still caught in the high of the win, but his eyes never left Kei. Not once. Even with the crowd swarming around him, even with people cheering and shouting, even with teammates and fans collapsing into each other, hugging, jumping, crying, Fuma’s focus was only on one person.

His best friend was still on the field, breathless, sweat-drenched, grinning so wide Fuma could feel it in his bones. His teammates were grabbing him, shaking his shoulders, pulling him into a pile of bodies and celebration, but even in the chaos, Kei’s eyes were searching.

Fuma exhaled sharply, something tight in his chest finally breaking loose. So, he shoved forward, breaking from Chan’s grip, pushing past celebrating students and screaming fans, moving toward Kei like a gravitational pull he couldn’t resist. And Kei was already moving toward him too.

The second they reached each other, their bodies collided, crashing together in a tight, unbreakable hug. Fuma’s arms wrapped around Kei’s neck, gripping him tightly, feeling the rapid rise and fall of the older alpha’s chest, the warmth of his skin even through the dampness of sweat. Kei’s arms locked around his waist, his hold just as firm, just as desperate - like he needed Fuma to ground him in this moment, to anchor him to reality.

Neither of them spoke at first. They just stood there, holding on, ignoring the crowd, the chaos, the screaming students around them.  It was their moment. Kei was breathing hard, still catching his breath from the game, but he refused to let go. His forehead pressed into Fuma’s shoulder for a second, his fingers curled into the back of his jacket. Fuma swallowed past the tightness in his throat before finally pulling back just enough to meet Kei’s gaze.

“You did it,” Fuma murmured, voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Kei let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I could’ve never done it without you.”

Fuma’s stomach flipped, heart hammering wildly. “Kei…”

Kei’s hands were still on him, still holding tight, his thumb absently brushing over the fabric of Fuma’s jacket. His breathing was still uneven, his pupils blown wide, his gaze locked on Fuma’s mouth for half a second too long. And then, Kei started leaning in.

Fuma didn’t even have time to close his eyes before a wave of ice-cold liquid poured over them, soaking them both in bright orange sports drink. They both froze, completely stunned as the sticky liquid dripped down their faces, their jerseys, their entire bodies.

Fuma blinked. Kei blinked back. And then loud, obnoxious laughter from off to the side.

Kei turned, already knowing who it was before he even saw them. San and Yunho stood there, grinning ear to ear, one of them still holding the empty drink cooler, looking far too pleased with themselves.

“Seriously?” Kei groaned, dragging a hand down his face, flicking droplets of orange liquid off his fingers.

San shrugged. “Tradition.”

Yunho beamed, arms crossed. “We had to celebrate our win by thanking our captain, properly”

Kei shot them a flat glare, but it was ruined by the way his hair was now plastered to his forehead, sticky with the liquid. Fuma just stood there, dripping, heart still racing for an entirely different reason than before.

Kei exhaled, tilting his head toward Fuma. “You okay?”

Fuma let out a laugh - genuine, breathless, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah. Just… soaked.”

Kei grinned. “Me too.”

They stared at each other for a second longer. And even though the moment had been completely ruined, the look in Kei’s eyes told Fuma that this wasn’t over. Not even close.

The ride to Nu Chi Tau was chaos.

Fuma’s crossover SUV was jam-packed, every seat filled with celebrating players and friends, bodies pressed together, the sheer energy of victory radiating off of them. Music blasted through the speakers, loud enough to shake the windows, but no one seemed to care. Juyeon and Hyunjae had their heads sticking out the windows, howling like wild animals, arms flailing as they shouted nonsense into the cold November air.

“Get back inside!” Kei scolded from the passenger seat, but he was laughing too hard to be taken seriously.

“LET US BE FREE!” Juyeon yelled back, hair whipping around as he flung his arms open dramatically.

“IT’S A NIGHT FOR THE HISTORY BOOKS!” Hyunjae screeched, one hand still gripping the roof of the car.

Kevin, crammed into the backseat with Chan, Minho, and Jiwoong, shook his head with a smirk. “They’re gonna get decapitated. I’m getting ‘Hereditary’ flashbacks”

Fuma just rolled his eyes, gripping the wheel tighter. “If campus police pulls me over, I’m throwing you all out and driving away.”

That only made Hyunjae laugh harder.

The SUV zoomed through campus, the streets alive with celebration. Students were running around, waving banners, honking car horns, chanting Kei’s name like he was some kind of legendary warrior returning from battle. It was insane but Kei deserved every bit of it.

Fuma snuck a glance at him at a red light.  Even now, after everything, after winning the championship, after being drenched in sports drink, after being surrounded by chaos and screaming friends, Kei was still looking at him. Like Fuma was the only thing he saw. Fuma’s stomach flipped, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as he looked away.

The music blasted louder, the voices in the car soared, and finally, they pulled up in front of Nu Chi Tau. The second Fuma threw the car into park, the doors flew open, and the chaos spilled out onto the front lawn of the frat house.

The place was already packed, people flooding inside and out, music thumping so hard Fuma could feel it vibrating through his chest the moment he stepped out of the car. Excited voices blended into one, shouts of celebration echoing through the night air as players and friends piled toward the house, everyone riding the high of victory.

Fuma was the last to step out, a little slower, still soaking in the moment. But then fingers brushed across the back of his hand, and then suddenly Kei was interlocking his fingers with his. The younger alpha's breath hitched, fingers automatically tightening around Kei’s in response. Kei didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge it, just held on, pulling him toward the house like he had no plans of letting go. But the moment they stepped inside, it was over.

A roar of "KEI! KEI! KEI!" erupted from the main room, and in seconds, Kei was ripped away from him.

"STAR PLAYER SHOTS RIGHT NOW!" someone yelled, and suddenly, Kei was swarmed by the team, hands grabbing at him, dragging him toward the kitchen where bottles of cheap liquor were already being poured.

Fuma barely had a chance to react before Chan clapped a strong hand onto his shoulder, grinning like a madman.

"They’re gone, dude," Chan laughed, watching as Kei and Minho disappeared into the wave of teammates and cheering fans. "Might as well get a drink while we wait."

Fuma exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He could still feel the ghost of Kei’s touch lingering in his palm, the warmth of his grip, the silent weight of it. And now he was standing here, watching Kei get passed shot after shot, laughing as his team hyped him up like he was a god.

Fuma shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Might need a whole bottle at this rate."

Chan just grinned, slapping his back again. "Atta boy."

After the third shot, Fuma stopped thinking. Jiwoong had shoved a shot into his hand and yelled “To the champions!” - even though Fuma hadn’t played a single minute - he figured, screw it. And threw the burning liquid back. 

Minho had him in the middle of the living room, screaming the lyrics to some old rock song at the top of their lungs. Kevin and Hyunjae were dancing on top of the couch, spilling their drinks but laughing too hard to care. Chan, always the responsible one, had claimed a chair in the corner and was watching the disaster unfold with a knowing smirk, sipping on what was definitely not just soda. And Fuma? Fuma was drunk. Like, laughing too loud, swaying when he stood, grinning at everyone drunk.

At one point, San swung an arm around his shoulders, voice already slurring. “Bro, you never party like this.”

Fuma snorted, tipping his head back to chug whatever was in his red cup. “Maybe you guys are a bad influence.”

San grinned. “Or maybe you’re finally embracing life!”

Yunho, equally wasted, clinked his drink against Fuma’s. “To Fuma letting loose!”

A cheer erupted from their little circle, and Fuma just laughed, soaking it all in. This was nice. This was good. For the first time in weeks, his mind wasn’t running a million miles per hour, wasn’t fixating on Kei, wasn’t drowning in confusion or what-ifs. He was just here - drunk, surrounded by his idiot friends, swaying to the beat of the music, having fun. He was chatting with his friends when his eyes naturally looked around for Kei. The last time he saw his roommate, he was taking photos with some of his teammates with their championship trophy. 

Now, he saw Kei again, but he was talking to an alpha. That same fucking smelly alpha that Fuma had saw him kiss the night of the quarterfinals. The one Fuma had tried so hard to pretend didn’t exist. But now that same asshole was standing way too close to Kei, chatting him up like they had unfinished business.

Fuma’s good mood crashed in an instant. He tried so hard not to freak the fuck out. But when the red solo cup he was holding, crushing under his grip, Juyeon looked towards what he was staring at. And because Juyeon couldn’t take a hint even if it walked up and slapped him across the face, he followed Fuma’s line of sight, snorted, and said, far too loudly.

“Oh yeah, I heard that guy’s trying to court Kei.”

Fuma froze, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached. “Huh?”

Juyeon, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside Fuma, took another sip of his drink. “Yeah, apparently he’s been talking about it for a while. Guess he thinks he’s got a shot or something.”

Fuma’s blood boiled. A shot? With Kei? The fuck he does.

Fuma’s heart slammed against his ribs, and suddenly, the alcohol felt like fire in his veins, like it was fueling something dangerous, something reckless. He looked at Kei again. The other alpha was smiling at something that guy just said - not his usual smile, but polite enough to make Fuma’s stomach turn. His own alpha was furious.  How dare someone talk to Kei - his Kei - like that?

A slight part of him knew it wasn’t even logical. Kei wasn’t his, not officially - not yet. But his instincts didn’t give a damn about that. And right now, watching that smug excuse of an alpha stand too close, watching Kei tilt his head, smile just slightly, watching that asshole reach out like he had any damn right to touch Kei at all… Something inside Fuma snapped.

Fuma felt a surge of possessiveness and jealousy unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His scent flared, so strong and laced with a warning that had other alphas nearby shifting uncomfortably, even if they weren’t sure who it was directed at.

Juyeon, finally noticing the shift in the air, took one look at Fuma’s darkened expression and blinked.

“Uh - ” he started, but Fuma was already moving. He threw his cracked cup to the ground and stalked across the party. His steps steady but deadly, the crowd parting for him instinctively as if sensing the tension rolling off of him in waves.

Kei must have felt something, because his body tensed, his sharp eyes flickering up just in time to see Fuma approaching. And for one second - one fleeting second - Kei’s lips parted, a flicker of something like relief crossing his face. Like he had been waiting for Fuma.

As he drew closer, Fuma could see the smirk on the other alpha's face, and could see the way he reached out to touch Kei's arm. He stepped between them, deliberately, boldly, cutting the other alpha off as if he wasn’t even worth acknowledging. His shoulder bumped against Kei’s, steadying him, grounding him, before he turned his glare on the smelly excuse of a man standing before him.

Fuma reached out and grabbed the stranger's wrist in a grip that was far tighter than was strictly polite. He wasn’t taller than the stinky alpha, but he was broader and fueled with a type of rage that should’ve had anyone second-guessing crossing him right now.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice came out low and dangerous, in a way that made the stranger’s eyes widen in surprise. 

He stuttered, blinking between Fuma and Kei, his scent wavering with hesitation. “I - I was just talking to Kei -”

Fuma growled, his alpha instincts fully taking over, eyes dark, dangerous. “Kei is mine.”

The words left no room for argument. The party around them blurred, but Fuma’s focus remained sharp, locked entirely on the intruder who dared to think he had a chance.

“Back. The Fuck. Up.” His voice came out low, lethal, every syllable dripping with possessiveness, his scent spiking with an unmistakable warning.

The other alpha’s eyes widened, his body instinctively caving to the unshakable dominance radiating off Fuma. He nodded quickly, hands raised in surrender, before disappearing into the crowd without another word. Fuma barely watched him go. Because the second he was gone, Kei was looking at him. And fuck, Fuma never wanted to see another look on Kei’s face. Dark eyes. Slightly parted lips. Something burning behind them, something that Kei had been holding back just as much as he had. But before Kei could say a single word, Fuma grabbed him by the front of his jersey and kissed him.

Fuma's kiss was hungry, almost desperate in its intensity. His tongue demanded entrance, delving past those smirking lips to taste the alpha who had consumed his every waking thought. He poured every ounce of his newly realized feelings into that kiss, expressing without words the depth of his desire and the swell of possessiveness that coursed through him. Kei didn’t just take it, he responded back enthusiastically. He surged forward, gripping Fuma’s waist, pulling him even closer as he kissed him back just as hard, his own tongue dancing and twining with Fuma's in a dance of dominance and submission that left them both breathless.

Kei's amber and cedarwood taste exploded across Fuma's senses, intoxicating and addictive in a way he had never experienced before. It was a flavor he knew he would crave for the rest of his life.

Fuma, driven by a primal instinct he could no longer ignore, walked Kei backwards until the taller alpha's shoulders hit the wall. The rest of the party faded away, the pounding music and chatter dimming to an indistinct murmur as Fuma focused solely on the man in his arms. Nothing else mattered, not the gyrating bodies on the dance floor or the clinking of glasses and bottles. At that moment, Kei became Fuma's entire world.

Fuma's hands roamed feverishly over Kei's back and sides, mapping out every muscle, every contour he had admired from afar for so long. His fingers splayed across Kei's shoulder blades as he deepened the kiss even further, pouring every ounce of his pent-up desire into the sensual war his tongue waged against Kei's own. 

Kei's hands gripped Fuma's hips, strong fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pulled Fuma even closer, eliminating any remaining distance between them. Fuma could feel the hard length of Kei's arousal pressing against him, and it only fueled his own desperate need. He ground his hips forward, relishing the friction of their clothed erections rubbing against each other as they rutted instinctively, chasing a pleasure they both so obviously needed.

Fuma's breathing grew ragged as he tore his mouth from Kei's, unable to resist as he licked a hot, open-mouthed trail up the column of Kei's throat, his tongue dragging over the alpha's racing pulse. His lips trailing fiery kisses along the older alpha's jaw and the column of his throat. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, marking Kei as his own, staking his claim for all to see. The thought of any other alpha seeing his marks on Kei's skin sent a fresh surge of possessiveness through him, spurring him to leave more and darker hickies in his wake.

"Mine," Fuma growled against Kei's neck, his voice a low, feral rumble that spoke to the primal beast within him. "You're mine, Kei. I won't let anyone else touch you like this, ever again."

His fingers tangled in Kei's brown locks, gripping the silky strands almost painfully as he wrenched his head to the side to expose more of the creamy skin he longed to taste and mark as his own. Kei let out a low, shuddering moan at the feeling of Fuma's mouth on his throat, the sound sending bolts of electricity straight to Fuma's aching cock. His hands came up to grip Fuma's shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he arched into the touch, offering more of himself to Fuma's hungry mouth.

Fuma could feel the evidence of Kei's arousal pressing insistently against his thigh, the hard length of the alpha's cock tenting the front of his jeans. The knowledge that he had reduced Kei to such a state only spurred on Fuma's desire, and he nipped at the alpha's throat, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh just hard enough to leave a mark.

Kei's eyes flashed with a hunger Fuma had never seen before as the older alpha grabbed Fuma's face in both hands, his calloused fingers sinking into the soft skin of Fuma's cheeks. In one swift, decisive motion, Kei crushed their lips back together. As they kissed, Fuma's hands slid down to grip Kei's biceps, marveling at the hard, sculpted muscle that twitched beneath his fingers. He could feel the power coiled in Kei's body, the raw, masculine strength that both thrilled and terrified him.

Kei's hands slid down to grip Fuma's hips, pulling the smaller alpha's body flush against his own as he ground his clothed erection against Fuma's in a slow, sensual roll. The layers of denim separating them did little to dull the intense pleasure that speared through Fuma at the contact, and he couldn't help but gasp into Kei's mouth, his fingers clenching in the fabric of the alpha's shirt.

After long, agonizing moments, Kei finally tore his mouth away from Fuma's, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he fought for control. He stared down at Fuma, his eyes dark and wild with lust, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"Let's go back to the apartment," Kei growled, his voice a low, husky rumble that made Fuma's cock twitch in his jeans. "Now."

Fuma jerkily nodded, pulling Kei away from the wall, before pushing their way through the crowd of bodies. Fuma's only thought was to get Kei somewhere private, somewhere he could have him all to himself.

Chapter Text

Without a word of goodbye to their teammates or the other partygoers, Kei and Fuma practically fled the frat house, their hands clasped tightly together as they hurried down the darkened street towards their shared apartment. Kei set a breakneck pace, and Fuma had to jog to keep up with the alpha's longer strides, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered what the night might bring.

As they reached the door to their apartment, Fuma fumbled with the key, his shaking hands making the simple task far more difficult than it should have been. The moment the lock clicked open, Kei wrenched the door open and pulled Fuma inside, slamming it shut behind them. The room was dark, the only light spilling in from the hallway and the glow of the city lights outside their window.

Kei shoved Fuma up against the wall with a thud, pinning the younger alpha with his taller frame. Fuma felt a surge of euphoria and liberation unlike anything he had ever experienced before. The thrill of having a partner who was just as strong, just as dominant, just as powerful as he was, sent a rush of adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins. With omegas, Fuma had always felt the need to hold back, to be gentle, to be the protector and defender. But with Kei, Fuma could let go of all those inhibitions, could give free rein to the untamed beast that had been building inside him for weeks.

Kei's mouth crashed against Fuma's in a bruising, dominating kiss, their tongues battling for dominance as they explored and tasted each other with a desperate, hungry fervor. He could feel the thick, hard ridge of Fuma's cock pressing against his own through the rough denim of their jeans, and the sensation sent sparks of electric pleasure shooting up his spine. His hips rolled forward, grinding his aching erection against the younger alphas in a desperate search for friction, for some relief from the burning need that consumed him.

Kei groaned into Fuma's mouth, his hands sliding down to grip the alpha's hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Fuma's hands slid up under the hem of Kei's shirt, nails raking over the hot, smooth skin of the alpha's back as he explored and mapped the hard planes and ridges of muscle. He could feel the way Kei shuddered beneath his touch, could hear the low, approving growls that rumbled up from the alpha's chest.

Fuma's breath caught in his throat as Kei dragged him towards the bedroom, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He stumbled slightly as the alpha pushed him down onto the mattress, the soft give of the bedding a stark contrast to the hard, unyielding weight of Kei's body as he climbed atop Fuma.

Fuma's mind raced as he stared up at Kei, his eyes wide and uncertain in the dim light of the bedroom. He had fantasized about this moment for weeks, had dreamed of feeling Kei's hands and mouth on his body, but now that it was actually happening, a sudden surge of nerves and doubt gripped him.

As Kei's lips and teeth attacked his neck, Fuma shuddered and gasped, his fingers twisting in the sheets beneath him. It was an incredible feeling, being overwhelmed by the alpha's strength and intensity, but it was also terrifying. Fuma had never been with another man before, had no idea what to expect or how to please Kei the way the alpha deserved.

The thought of being the one to be taken, to be on the receiving end of Kei's dominant passion, made Fuma's stomach twist with a sudden surge of anxiety. He had never been topped before, had never even considered the possibility of taking something up his ass, and the idea filled him with a strange mix of fear and anticipation.

As if sensing Fuma's internal turmoil, Kei pulled back, his dark eyes searching Fuma's face with a look of curiosity and concern. His lips were slick and wet from the alpha's saliva, and his chest heaved with each ragged breath, but there was a softness in his gaze that made Fuma feel a little less terrified.

"Kei, wait," Fuma gasped out, placing a trembling hand on the alpha's chest. "I... I've never done this before. With a guy, I mean." He swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the quiet of the bedroom. "I don't want to disappoint you or mess this up. I just... I want to make sure I do this right."

Kei smiled softly at Fuma's confession, his heart swelling with a mix of tenderness and desire. He could see the uncertainty and nerves written all over the younger alpha's face, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe Fuma's fears and show him the pleasure that awaited them.

"Shh, it's okay," Kei murmured, pressing a softer, more reassuring kiss to Fuma's lips. "We don't have to do anything else tonight if you're not ready. I don't want to pressure you into something that scares you."

But Fuma was already shaking his head, his brown eyes blazing up at Kei with a desperate, hungry look. "No, I want this. I want you," he insisted. "I've just never... I mean, I want to make you feel good, but I'm not sure how to... "

"How about you fuck me instead?" Kei suggested, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "I'd love to feel your cock inside me, filling me up." He rolled his hips deliberately against Fuma's, letting the alpha feel the hard, insistent press of his own erection. "Think of it as practice. You can explore and learn what feels good without the pressure of being the one to take the lead. What do you say?"

At Kei's filthy words, Fuma let out a harsh, needy groan, his fingers clutching at the alpha's shoulders and his eyes fluttering shut. The thought of being inside Kei, of feeling the alpha's tight heat surrounding him, made Fuma throb and leak in his jeans, his cock jumping eagerly at the idea. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Fuma yanked Kei's head back down, crashing their mouths together in a desperate, hungry kiss. He poured all of his desire and need into the embrace, his tongue plundering Kei's mouth with a newfound sense of urgency.

Kei practically ripped his shirt off over his head, eager to feel Fuma's skin against his own. He then grabbed the hem of Fuma's shirt, his fingers brushing against the alpha's stomach as he tugged it up and off, baring Fuma's chest to his hungry gaze.

The older alpha's breath caught in his throat as Fuma flipped their position so the younger was now the one on top. Fuma drank in the breathtaking sight of Kei splayed out beneath him, his heart pounding at the sheer beauty and perfection of the alpha's body. He ran his hands possessively over the smooth expanse of Kei's chest, marveling at the way the hard planes and ridges of muscle rippled under his touch. Fuma had always been drawn to strength and power, and Kei embodied that so perfectly.

Unable to resist, Fuma leaned down and dragged his tongue over one of Kei's nipples, feeling it pebble and tighten at the contact. He laved attention on the sensitive nub with lips and teeth and tongue, drawing a low moan from Kei's throat. Emboldened, Fuma lavished the same treatment on its twin, his hands sliding down the sculpted lines of Kei's abdomen as he worked. Fuma's confidence grew with each breathy gasp and shuddering groan he elicited from Kei. He may have been new to intimate encounters with alphas, but he knew his own body, knew what made himself feel good. And he was determined to make Kei feel even better.

The younger alpha could feel the thick, hard ridge of Kei's cock pressing insistently against his own through the rough denim of their jeans, the alpha's arousal evident in the way he rutted and ground against Fuma. It made Fuma's own cock throb in response, leaking and twitching at the thought of being buried deep inside Kei's tight, welcoming heat.

Fuma's fingers made quick work of the fastenings of Kei's jeans, popping them open and shoving the denim down his long legs, taking his underwear down with him. Kei's cock sprang free, long, hard, and flushed a deep, angry red with the tip already glistening with need. 

"Woah, you're huge," Fuma breathed, awe and admiration coloring his tone. He wasn't small in any means himself, but he had only seen his own dick in real life, so it was interesting to see another one so close.

His hands drifted lower, skimming over the sharp lines of Kei's hipbones, before wrapping around the thick, heavy length of his cock. Fuma couldn't help but marvel at the feel of it, hot and hard and throbbing against his palm. He stroked Kei slowly, teasingly, reveling in the way the alpha bucked beneath him.

Fuma barely remembered to kick off his own jeans, throwing them carelessly away until he was just as bare as the alpha before him. His own cock bobbed against his stomach, not as long as Kei's but thick and girthy, with a neatly trimmed patch of light hair at the base.

Once settled between Kei's muscular thighs, Fuma leaned in close, his heart pounding as he took in the sight of the alpha's length. It was the first cock he'd ever had the chance to truly examine up close, the first he'd be tasting. Fuma was determined to make a good impression, to show Kei that he had the potential to be skilled at pleasuring him with his mouth.

"Just take it slow. You've got this." Kei murmured, reaching down to stroke Fuma's hair reassuringly.

Fuma started by extending his tongue and gave the swollen tip of Kei's cock a tentative lick, tasting the bead of precum that had already gathered at the slit. Emboldened by the older alpha shivering at the contact, Fuma licked again this time, dragging his tongue along the sensitive underside of Kei's shaft.

Encouraged by the guttural moan this elicited from Kei, Fuma opened his mouth and took the broad head past his lips, his tongue swirling around it as he suckled gently. He could only fit the tip and a couple of inches into his mouth at first, but he worked his tongue diligently, lapping and suckling at the thick flesh.

Fuma's hand came up to wrap around the base of Kei's cock, pumping what he couldn't fit into his mouth. He bobbed his head slowly, taking a little more of Kei's length with each downward motion of his head. He had to concentrate on breathing through his nose and relaxing his throat to accommodate the thick intrusion, but he was determined to take more of Kei into his eager mouth.

He could feel it throbbing against his tongue, the thick vein pulsing with each beat of Kei's heart. The musky scent of Kei's arousal filled Fuma's nostrils, the heady fragrance making him dizzy with desire. Kei groaned and swore above him, his grip on Fuma's hair tightening at the feeling of the younger alpha's hot mouth wrapped around him. 

Fuma swallowed around the thick length filling his throat, massaging it with the tight clench of his muscles. He held himself there, his lungs burning, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he fought against his gag reflex. But he was determined to take all of Kei, to feel the alpha's heavy cock pulsing at the back of his throat.

"You're doing so good, baby" Kei affectionately stroked Fuma's cheek with his thumb when the younger alpha finally pulled off to catch his breath. "You made me feel so good"

Kei started to for the bedside drawer where he kept his stash of lube. But Fuma wasn't listening, too far gone in his lust and desperation. Instead, he grabbed Kei's legs and pushed them back, bending the alpha's knees up against his chest until Kei was nearly folded in half, exposing his perfect ass to Fuma's hungry eyes. 

"Fuma, wait - "

The younger alpha dove forward, burying his face between Kei's spread thighs, and dragged his tongue over the alpha's tight, furled entrance. Kei gasped, his back arching off the bed at the sudden, intense sensation, his hands flying back down to grip Fuma's hair.

The alpha's skin was hotter here, softer and more delicate than any other part of him, and Fuma could feel it twitch and clench beneath his explorations.

Fuma couldn't hold back the moan as he savored the taste of Kei's most intimate area. It was probably kinda obvious that Fuma wasn't really sure what he was doing, but his enthusiasm and desire made up for it. He swore he could taste the faint, lingering traces of Kei's natural alpha musk, the amber and cedarwood notes that clung to the alpha's skin. It made Fuma's head spin and his cock throb, his own scent growing headier and more potent as his arousal mounted.

As Fuma lost himself in his desperate feast, his tongue swirled and probed, teasing and loosening the resistant ring of muscle. Kei gasped and shuddered beneath him, his fingers tightening almost painfully in Fuma's hair as he arched his back off the bed, pressing himself more fully against the younger alpha's questing mouth.

"Fuck, Fuma..." Kei groaned, his voice a low, guttural rasp that sent shivers down Fuma's spine and straight to his aching cock. "Your tongue feels so fucking good."

With a low, hungry growl, Fuma finally pushed forward, his tongue slipping past the tight ring of muscle to spear into the hot clutch of Kei's ass. He could feel his own erection throbbing and leaking against his stomach, the thick length pulsing with a desperate, aching need to be sheathed inside the alpha.

Kei's powerful thighs clenching around Fuma's head, the alpha's muscles flexing and trembling as he lost himself in the pleasure of the other's ministrations. Fuma didn't mind in the slightest, relishing the way Kei kept him locked in place, trapped between those strong, toned legs as he worked the alpha over with his tongue. He could feel Kei's heart pounding, could hear the alpha's ragged breaths and desperate moans filling the room around him, spurring him on to greater heights of enthusiasm.

Glancing up, Fuma was rewarded with the sight of Kei's blissed out expression, the alpha's handsome face flushed and handsome, his dark eyes glazed with lust. The sight made Fuma's own cock throb and jerk against his stomach, a fresh surge of arousal crashing through him at the knowledge that he was the one bringing Kei such pleasure.

As Kei warned him that he was close, Fuma let go of one of the alpha's thighs, his hand drifting up to wrap around the thick, pulsing length of Kei's cock. He could feel it jerking and twitching in his grip, the swollen head already slick with the alpha's pre-cum.

Fuma started to stroke Kei in time with the thrusts of his tongue, his hand pumping the alpha's thick shaft as he fucked him open with his mouth. He could feel Kei's cock throbbing and pulsing in his grip, the hot, hard flesh like velvet over steel. The alpha was leaking so much, his arousal coating Fuma's fingers and dripping down onto the sheets beneath them.

"F-Fuck, Fuma!" Kei gasped out, his voice breaking on a desperate, high-pitched keen. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

The alpha's cock jerked and swelled in Fuma's hand, the tip flaring wide as a fresh surge of pre-cum oozed from the slit. Fuma could feel Kei's thighs trembling around his head, could hear the desperate, needy whimpers and moans spilling from the alpha's lips.

At the last possible second, he switched positions, swallowing Kei's pulsing cock back down his throat as he plunged two fingers deep into the alpha's tight, fluttering hole, curling and scissoring them.

"FUCK!" Kei yelled, his back arching off the bed as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerked and twitched against Fuma's tongue, painting the back of the alpha's throat with thick ropes of his cum.

As Kei shuddered and bucked beneath him, Fuma continued to work the alpha through his climax, his fingers pumping and twisting within the tight clutch of his ass. He wanted to wring every last drop of pleasure from Kei's body, wanted the alpha to be completely spent and satisfied. 

When the alpha finally released his grip on Fuma's hair, pushing his head away with a low, breathless groan, Fuma pulled his well-used mouth off with a lewd, wet pop. He sat back on his heels, panting softly as he licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of Kei's release on his tongue.

"Holy shit," Kei pants, looking at the younger alpha in almost bewilderment. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard, or fast, from getting eaten out like that."

Fuma's alpha feels insanely proud at the others confession, taking in the alpha's blissed out expression and the sheen of sweat that coated his skin. He did that. Fuma leaned forward, capturing Kei's lips in a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into the alpha's mouth to let him taste the lingering essence of his own release.

"Okay, I need you to fuck me before I go insane. The lube is in the top drawer. I'm not an omega and spit is gonna dry quicker than you think. More is better" Kei tells him and Fuma nods like the good, obedient alpha he is, grabbing the lube from the beside table. He paused for a moment, his brows furrowing as he considered Kei's words, realizing that condoms were not mentioned.

"Kei, wait," Fuma said, his voice low and hesitant. "We should probably talk about condoms first. I know we're both alphas, but I want to make sure we're on the same page."

He looked up at Kei, his brown eyes earnest and slightly uncertain. "Do you want me to wear one, or would you prefer... I mean, if it's okay with you, I'd like to feel all of you, skin to skin. But I don't want to assume anything, so please tell me what you'd prefer."

Fuma knew that he would follow Kei's lead, no matter what the alpha decided. He respected the male too much to make assumptions about his preferences or boundaries. But he also couldn't deny the deep, primal desire he felt at the thought of claiming Kei completely, of marking the alpha as his own in the most intimate way possible.

Kei groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as he stared up at the younger alpha with lust-darkened eyes. Fuma's consideration for his partner's comfort and consent only served to heighten the alpha's desire, a fierce surge of arousal crashing through him at the thoughtful gesture.

"And you ask for my consent? Fuma, you are literally the sexiest alpha I have ever met," Kei panted out, his voice rough with need and want. "I haven’t had sex since the team helped run that STD testing event with the health department last month. I haven’t had sex with anyone since we moved in together”

“Me too” Fuma nods.  Well, too be truthful, he hasn’t had sex since he broke up with his girlfriend two years ago. He only did the test because all of his friends were, and it never hurts to check anyways just in case and wait... "Hold on, the test was weeks ago.”

“Yeah?” Kei, tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. Fuma just stares at him for a moment, his own confusion obvious in his expression. 

“But the night of the quarterfinals, at the party, I saw you kissing that same alpha from earlier tonight. Didn’t you go home with him?” Fuma frowned.

How could he have forgotten the moment that almost ruined their friendship?

A look of realization comes over Kei’s face as he pieces together what Fuma is trying to say. He snorts, affectionately, refusing to let Fuma pull away.

“Oh Fuma,” Kei cooed. “That alpha is someone who graduated last year. He did kiss me, yeah, but only because he was super drunk. I didn’t kiss him back. He ended up puking on me, so I had to change my shirt and his pack wasn’t in town so I brought him back to his own apartment and just stayed to make sure he didn’t puke in his sleep and choke on it and die, or anything”

Fuma just stares at Kei, mouth hanging out slightly. He feels stupid, to start, but also incredibly relieved. 

“Oh," was all he could say.

“Glad we got that all figured out, now please fuck me raw before I go insane”

Fuma couldn't help but blush at Kei's words. He nodded, his hand shaking slightly as he popped open the cap of the lube bottle, pouring a generous amount of the slick substance over his throbbing, aching cock.

Fuma shuddered, his teeth gritting together at the cool sensation against his overheated flesh, the sudden contrast making him hiss out a sharp breath. He stroked himself slowly, his hand gliding over his thick, pulsing length, smearing the lube from base to tip until he could no longer feel the chill.

His other hand slid down to grip Kei's hip, his fingers sinking into the firm, muscular flesh as he lined himself up with the alpha's entrance. The head of his cock caught on that tight, puckered hole, and Fuma had to grit his teeth at the sensation, fighting the urge to just surge forward and bury himself balls-deep in one hard thrust. He wanted to savor this moment, to make it last, to burn the feel of Kei's ass surrounding him into his memory for all eternity. But he also wanted to make this good for Kei, wanted to give the alpha a fucking he would never forget. So Fuma took a deep breath and pushed forward slowly, feeling Kei's tight ring of muscle stretch and yield to the insistent pressure of his cock.

"Tell me if it's too much, okay?" Fuma murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. "I don't want to hurt you."

With that, he began to push forward, his hips rocking steadily as he slowly, inexorably, sank himself into the tight, clutching heat of Kei's body. He could feel the alpha's walls stretching around him, the muscle yielding and parting to allow him entrance. 

"Fuuuuck," Fuma groaned as the broad head of his dick popped past that initial resistance, slipping into the hot, silky clutch of Kei's ass. The sensation was different, tighter and more resistant than the heat of every omega he's slept with, but Fuma found himself preferring this. 

The way Kei's body gripped and squeezed around him, the molten heat and the velvet softness, the almost overwhelming tightness and the way it seemed to suck him back in each time he tried to withdraw... it was addicting, and Fuma found himself quickly losing himself to it.

"Ohhh fuck, Fuma," Kei let out a low, drawn-out moan as he felt Fuma's thick cock spreading him open, stretching him wider than he had ever been stretched before. The sensation of being so perfectly, utterly filled was indescribable - a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort that set every nerve ending in his body alight with sensation.

Fuma shuddered, his arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up and back, hovering over Kei's prone form. The alpha felt incredible wrapped around his aching, throbbing cock, the tight heat, rippling pressure threatening to push Fuma over the edge embarrassingly quickly. He had to grit his teeth, to focus on taking deep, steadying breaths as he fought to maintain his control, not wanting to embarrass himself by coming undone before he had even begun to move.

He leaned down to capture the alpha's lips in a brutal, dominating kiss, his tongue exploring Kei's mouth as he started to move. He pulled back slowly until just the tip of his cock remained nestled inside Kei's entrance, and then he surged forward again, burying himself to the hilt in one hard, deep thrust.

"Fuck, Kei," Fuma grunted, his hips rocking forward as he began to thrust into the alpha's welcoming heat. "You feel incredible, so fucking tight and hot around my cock."

He started slowly, his strokes deep and measured as he allowed Kei's body to adjust to the thick intrusion stretching him open. With each push forward, Fuma could feel the alpha's walls fluttering and clenching around him, the silken muscle gripping his shaft like a velvet vise. It was a heady, intoxicating sensation, one that made it difficult for Fuma to think of anything beyond the feel of Kei's body enveloping him so completely. Kei could only moan in response, his head falling back against the pillow as he concentrated on relaxing his muscles, on letting Fuma sink even deeper into his pliant flesh. He had never felt so utterly claimed, so completely owned by another person. 

As he picked up the pace of his thrusts, Fuma could feel Kei's cock throbbing and pulsing against his stomach, could hear Kei's ragged, desperate moans and cries filling the air around them.  Fuma groaned deeply as he thrust into Kei with increasing fervor, his hips slapping against the alpha's as he drove himself harder and deeper into the welcoming heat of the male's body.

He couldn't believe that he had waited so long to have this, to claim the alpha in the most intimate way possible. Fuma was already ruined for all others, addicted to the way Kei's powerful body surrendered to his lustful attentions, the way the alpha's muscles rippled and clenched around him as if trying to pull him even deeper.

Kei cried out, his voice muffled by Fuma's lips and tongue, as pleasure exploded through his body like a supernova. The feeling of Fuma's cock dragging along his sensitive walls, hitting that special bundle of nerves deep inside him... it was too much, too intense. Kei could only cling to Fuma and take it, could only surrender himself completely to the younger alpha's dominant fucking.

"Fuck, Kei," Fuma gasped out, his voice rough and ragged with desire. "You feel so damn good, like you were made for my cock. I should've claimed you the moment I first saw you, should've shown everyone that you belonged to me."

Kei giggled, a breathless, high-pitched sound of amusement that made Fuma's cock throb and jerk inside him. The alpha wrapped his legs around Fuma's waist, using the leverage to pull him in even deeper, to grind his hips against Fuma's with each powerful thrust.

"Yeah? And risk giving the whole soccer team a free show?" Kei teased, his eyes sparkling with mirth even as they darkened with lust. "I can just picture it now. You bending me over and -”

Fuma leaned down, capturing Kei's lips in a searing, passionate kiss as he continued to pound into the alpha with increasing force. He could feel Kei's laughter turning into a low, drawn-out moan against his mouth, the sound vibrating through the alpha's chest and making Fuma's own desire surge even higher.

The younger alpha pulled out of Kei's hot, clasping heat with a low groan, ignoring the needy whimpers and protests spilling from the alpha's kiss-swollen lips. With a surge of strength and a sudden burst of movement, he flipped Kei onto his hands and knees, leaving his ass high and exposed and vulnerable to Fuma's hungry gaze. Kei gasped and steadied himself, his palms flattening against the sheets as he arched his back, presenting himself like a bitch in heat.

Fuma leaned forward, gripping Kei's ass roughly, his fingers sinking into the pliant, yet firm flesh as he spread them apart. Kei's hole glistened at him, slick with the lube and pre-cum. Fuma leaned down and dragged the swollen head of his cock over the furled, grasping opening, feeling it catch and drag and tease along Kei's rim. He rubbed himself over it slowly, torturously, reveling in the way Kei shuddered and whimpered beneath him, the desperate, keening sounds spurring on Fuma's lust and hunger.

"Fuma, please, " Kei begged before crying out, his back arching sharply as Fuma shoved himself back inside. The younger alpha's thick cock kissed his prostate in a way that had stars exploding behind his tightly clenched eyelids. He could feel every ridge and vein and throbbing inch of Fuma's shaft as it dragged along his sensitive walls, setting his nerves alight with pleasure and stoking the flames of his desire ever higher.

"Ohhh fuck, Fuma!" Kei groaned, fisting the sheets for all he was worth as he pushed his hips back to meet Fuma's deep, powerful thrusts. 

Kei could only moan and babble incoherently in response, lost to the brutal pace of Fuma's thrusts as the alpha set about claiming him, fucking him into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes of his hips. Each surge forward buried Fuma deeper into Kei's willing body, each pull back left him feeling empty and aching for the younger alpha's return. His cock bobbed and jerked against his belly, drooling precum with each jarring impact of Fuma's hips against his ass, the pearly essence smearing across his stomach. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming and Kei knew he wouldn't last long at this rate.

Fuma slipped a hand around to grip Kei's chin firmly, tilting the older alpha's head to the side to expose the column of his throat. At the same time, he wrapped an arm around the alpha's chest, pulling Kei's back flush against Fuma's chest as he continued his relentless assault on Kei's ass. The new angle allowed Fuma to drive his thick cock even deeper into Kei's tight heat.

"Fuck, Kei. You taste so fucking good" To emphasize his point, Fuma thrust his tongue back past Kei's lips, invading the warm, wet cavern and claiming it as ruthlessly as he was claiming the rest of the alpha's body.

Kei moaned into the messy kiss, his own tongue tangling sloppily with Fuma's as the younger alpha fucked into him with deep, powerful strokes. He could still taste himself on Fuma's tongue, the salty-sweet essence of his own arousal mingling with the headier, more primal flavor that was all Fuma. It was intoxicating, and Kei found himself growing drunk on the taste, on the feeling of being so utterly possessed and consumed by the dominant alpha behind him.

"Mmmph... Fuma..." Kei panted into the kiss, his fingers coming up to grip the alpha's hair, tugging on it sharply as he rolled his hips back to meet each driving thrust. The sensation of Fuma's cock dragging along his sensitive walls, the feeling of the alpha's strong arms wrapped around him, holding him so tightly... it was too much for Kei to bear. He could feel his orgasm building at the base of his spine, the telltale tingle of impending release starting to spread through his nerves and muscles.

Breaking the kiss with a wet, obscene sound, Fuma nipped and licked his way along the line of Kei's jaw, his sharp teeth grazing the alpha's earlobe before he tugged on it firmly.

"Gonna come, baby?" Fuma breathed against the delicate skin, his voice a sinful purr that made Kei shiver and clench down around the thick cock spearing him open.

Kei could only whimper and nod, his head falling back against Fuma's shoulder as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure crashing through him like a tidal wave. "Yes, Fuma! Fuck yes, I'm gonna come!"

"Go ahead, baby," he encouraged, his voice a low, rough rasp heavy with lust and dark promise. "Come for me just like this."

With a hoarse cry of Fuma's name, Kei did just that, his body convulsing and shuddering as his climax ripped through him. His cock jerked and pulsed, pearly ropes of essence splattering across the sheets as Kei's orgasm crashed over him, leaving him gasping and shaking in the circle of Fuma's strong arms. He could feel Fuma's cock throbbing and pulsing, stretching him even wider as the alpha fucked into him through the aftershocks of his climax. 

Fuma just watched in awe and wanton admiration, feeling Kei's ass clench and ripple around his cock like a velvet vice as the alpha came undone.

"God, look at you," Fuma breathed, his eyes burning with desire and dark satisfaction. "Fucking gorgeous... coming apart on my dick like that"

The feeling of Kei's walls clamping down around him like a vise, rippling and squeezing his throbbing cock as the older alpha rode out the intense waves of his climax, was exquisite torment to Fuma. The erotic sight of Kei coming undone beneath him, the alpha's muscular body arched in ecstasy and glazed with a sheen of sweat, his gorgeous cock spurting pearlescent ropes of come across the bed sheets... it was all too much for the young alpha to resist.

Fuma's fingers dug into the older alpha's back hard enough to leave bruises and his hips slamming forward one, two, three more times before he buried himself to the hilt in the grip of Kei's ass, his swollen cock pulsing and jerking as hot, thick ropes of his cum gushed out.

Fuma swore he blacked out for a moment, white hot pleasure short-circuiting his brain and leaving him seeing stars as he pumped Kei full of his release. It felt like the alpha's ass was milking him, greedy and hungry for every last drop as it clenched and massaged his spurting cock. He could feel his own come, hot and thick, flooding Kei's channel and quickly exceeding the alpha's body's capacity to hold it all. Pearly rivulets of it began to seep out around his shaft, leaking out to pool on the sheets beneath them.

"Oh fuck... oh goddamn, Kei..." Fuma gasped as he slowly drifted back down from the highest high he had ever experienced. "That was... fuck, that was incredible."

He collapsed forward, blanketing Kei's sweat-slicked back with his own, his hair damp and curling at his temples as he tried to catch his breath. Underneath him, Kei could only moan and shudder as he felt Fuma's come, hot and thick as molten lava, painting his insides. The sensation of being so utterly filled, claimed and marked by the younger alpha's release was indescribable.

Fuma took a shuddering breath, his hands moving to wipe the sticky remnants of their coupling from his fingers on the sheets beneath them. Then, with a gentleness that was at odds with the wild, primal passion of moments before, he wrapped his arms around Kei's waist and rolled them both onto their sides, so they were facing each other.

He cupped Kei's face tenderly, his thumbs brushing over the alpha's cheeks as he gazed deeply into those beautiful blue eyes. In that moment, as their lips moved together in a passionate, nearly desperate dance, Fuma poured all of his gratitude, all of his newfound affection and caregiving instincts into the kiss. He wanted Kei to feel the depth of his emotions, to understand just how much this intimate encounter had meant to him.

"Fuck, Kei, that was... you were... incredible," Fuma panted out between open-mouthed kisses and licks.

He could feel Kei trembling in his arms, the alpha's muscles going soft and pliant as the last shudders of his release worked their way through his system. Fuma knew that he had reduced the male to a boneless, satisfied puddle, and he felt a deep sense of pride at being the cause of such profound pleasure.

As their mouths separated, Fuma took a shaky breath, his heart swelling with a warm, fuzzy feeling he had never experienced before. He had always been a lover of the physical act of sex, but this? The tenderness, the connection, the sheer vulnerability of sharing himself so completely with another alpha? It was a whole new realm of intimacy for Fuma.

With a soft, almost regretful sigh, Fuma reluctantly pulled back, feeling his spent cock slipping from the welcoming heat of Kei's ass. As he withdrew, a rush of their combined releases gushed out, dripping down the alpha's thighs and pooling on the bed. The sight made Fuma's heart clench with a possessive pride - he had marked the alpha, claimed him, filled him up until he was leaking with it. 

Before Kei could even register the sensation, he found himself swept up into Fuma's strong, muscular arms, the alpha cradling him close to his chest as he carried him with care through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Kei made a small, sleepy sound of protest, his arms coming up to loop around Fuma's neck as he nuzzled into the crook of the other male's shoulder

Once in the bathroom, Fuma was gentle as he helped Kei to his feet, one hand supporting the alpha's back while the other guided him to stand upright beneath the warm spray of the shower. The heat of the water was soothing and relaxing, the warmth seeping into Kei's bones and helping to ease the lingering aches and pains of their intense coupling.

The younger alpha reached for a washcloth, and soaped it up before facing Kei, his expression soft and almost reverent as he began to gently wash Kei's body. His touch was tender and almost worshipful as he trailed the damp cloth over the planes and angles of the older alpha's muscles, wiping away the evidence of their passionate coupling from his thighs. As he worked, Fuma leaned in, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to the alpha's shoulder. 

"Thank you," he murmured against the warm, damp skin. "For everything. For letting me be with you like this." He pulling back to meet Kei's gaze, his eyes dark and vulnerable.

Kei leaned down to press his lips against Fuma's, sighing happily as their wet, warm body pressed up against each other. 

Once satisfied that not a single speck of dirt or essence remained on the alpha's skin, Fuma turned off the water and reached for a plush towel. He began to dry Kei off gently, his strong hands rubbing the soft material over the alpha's skin in slow circles. Fuma's hands continued their journey upward, gliding over Kei's chest and shoulders, until he stood before the alpha, towel-drying his hair with tender care. The intimate act stirred something deep in Kei's chest - a warmth, a contentment, a sense of being cherished and cared for in a way he had never experienced before. It was a new feeling for an alpha like Kei, and it left him feeling almost vulnerable in the best way possible.

Once they were both dry, Fuma swept Kei up into his arms once more, cradling him against his chest as he carried him out of the bathroom and into his own bedroom. The cool air of the bedroom was a refreshing contrast to the steamy heat of the bathroom, and Kei could feel goosebumps prickling on his skin.

Fuma's bed was neatly made, the sheets and comforter crisp and pristine - a testament to the young alpha's meticulous nature. As they climbed into bed together, Fuma made sure to pull Kei close, spoiling the older alpha with the warmth of his strong body. He draped one muscular thigh over Kei's legs, pinning the alpha underneath him in a way that felt more protective than restrictive.

As they lay there, intertwined, Fuma knew that he needed to thank Kei, needed to express his gratitude for the alpha's patience. He turned to face the other male, his hand coming up to cup Kei's cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the alpha's lips as he looked deep into his eyes.

"Kei, I... fuck, I don't even know where to begin," Fuma murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I know I haven't always been the most open about my feelings. I was scared, to be honest. Scared of what it would mean, of what it would change."

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on Kei's face slightly as he fought to find the right words to express himself. "But you... you never pushed me, never forced me to acknowledge what I felt. Even when I was struggling to understand it myself, you were patient and understanding, always kind and caring."

Fuma leaned in closer, his forehead touching against Kei's as he let out a shuddering breath. "You helped me figure out that what I'm feeling for you... it's not just a passing thing, or a fleeting infatuation. It's real, and it's deep, and it's something I know I never want to let go of."

He brushed his lips against Kei's in a soft, tender kiss, pouring all of his feeling and emotion into that simple gesture. "Thank you, Kei," Fuma whispered against the alpha's mouth. "Thank you for being so understanding, so patient and supportive."

The older alpha reached up and stroked Fuma's hair, his fingers combing through the damp, curling strands and tugging lightly at his scalp. It was a gesture of affection, a silent reassurance that he wanted to be right here, in Fuma's space, in Fuma's bed.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," Kei said truthfully, meaning every word. "I'd wait forever for you"

Chapter Text

Fuma woke up warm. Not just from the lingering heat of the heavy blankets draped over him, but something deeper, something all-encompassing. It seeped into his skin, into his bones, curling around his heart like a steady, unwavering presence. It was the kind of warmth that came from being held, from the quiet security of waking up next to someone you don’t want to let go of.

For a moment, he just lay there, eyes still half-lidded, his mind floating somewhere between dreams and reality. He felt weightless, his body loose and relaxed, free from the tension he hadn’t even realized he had been carrying for so long. His breathing was slow, deep, perfectly in sync with the steady rise and fall of Kei’s chest against his back. The older alpha was still wrapped around him, completely entwined, their limbs tangled beneath the sheets. One of his arms was slung over Fuma’s waist, palm resting firmly against his stomach, holding him close even in sleep. His body was pressed flush against the younger alpha's back, his legs tangled effortlessly with his own, as if neither of them had any plans of moving anytime soon.

Fuma’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile. This was nice - more than nice, actually, it was perfect. For once, there was no uncertainty, no hesitation, no fear. Just this moment, just Kei. He shifted slightly, nestling deeper into the embrace, letting himself fully relax against the warmth behind him. Kei stirred in response, his grip instinctively tightening, pulling Fuma in closer. His breath was soft, warm against Fuma’s shoulder, a quiet sigh escaping him as he settled again. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested against Fuma’s stomach, his body shifting just enough for his nose to brush against the back of Fuma’s neck.

Fuma exhaled slowly, feeling a gentle shiver roll through him at the delicate contact. He tilted his head just enough to steal a glimpse of Kei’s sleeping face, his eyes still closed, his lashes casting faint shadows against his cheekbones. His lips were parted slightly, his expression completely unguarded, bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains.

Kei had always been beautiful, Fuma had known that for a long time, but this was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just Kei’s looks that made Fuma’s chest feel tight with something he couldn’t quite name. It was the way he held onto him, even in sleep, as if he belonged there, as if letting go wasn’t an option. And Fuma liked that a lot. So much so that, for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to question it, doubt it, or feel scared of what it meant. Because whatever this was, whatever happened next - Kei was here. And for now, that was all that mattered.

He wanted to stay tangled up exactly like this, skin warm beneath the blankets, Kei’s steady breath against his shoulder, his strong arms locked around Fuma’s waist like he had no intention of letting go. He wanted to soak in the way Kei’s fingers traced mindless patterns against his hip, the way his entire body felt molded against his, as if they had been meant to fit together like this all along. He wanted to pretend they had nowhere to be, that the world outside this room didn’t exist, that they could just stay here forever in the soft, hazy glow of morning light spilling through the curtains.

Fuma let out a quiet breath, closing his eyes again, letting himself sink deeper into the warmth of it all. He wanted to stay in bed. He really, really did. But then he figured they should get up. Maybe they should talk… but before he could do anything about it, a loud, very undignified growl cut through the silence, ruining the peaceful, intimate moment and making Fuma immediately tense in mortification.

Kei proved he was awake by snorting, his breath warm and amused against Fuma’s neck, and his shoulders shaking. There was a unmistakable curve of a smirk against his bare skin as Fuma groaned, burying his face into the pillow, heat prickling up his neck as he tried to ignore the way Kei’s body shook slightly with quiet laughter behind him.

“It’s not my fault,” Fuma frowned, rolling over to glare at him. “I didn’t eat during the soccer game yesterday, okay? Hotdogs were like $12”

Kei lifted his head slightly, amusement still dancing in his dark eyes, before leaning in and kissing the pout off the younger alpha’s face.

“…That doesn’t change the fact that I’m hungry,” Fuma muttered, voice lower than before.

Kei’s lips twitched. “Then let’s feed you before you get grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Fuma mumbled, but Kei was already pulling away, stretching his arms above his head, completely unbothered, as if last night hadn’t just changed everything between them.

Fuma sat up slowly, reluctantly letting the sheets slide off his body, still feeling the ghost of Kei’s kiss on his lips. The older alpha yawned, running a hand through his messy hair, before sliding out of bed, bare and glorious, as he strolled toward the dresser. Fuma didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t looking.

The morning light cast golden highlights over Kei’s bare chest, illuminating the sharp lines of his collarbones, the toned definition of his stomach, the dips and curves of his muscles, the slight taper of his waist, the long lines of his legs… and there were the marks. 

Fuma’s throat went dry as his eyes traced the faint red bruises dusting Kei’s hips, the deeper ones along his collarbone, the unmistakable bite on the side of his neck where Fuma had lost control completely. He remembered making them, and how Kei had gasped, how he had arched into him, how his fingers had clawed at Fuma’s back, leaving his own marks in return.

A sudden, fierce urge surged through Fuma to drag Kei back into bed. To pin him down, to press their bodies together again, to remind Kei exactly who he belonged to. He ripped his gaze away before his brain could spiral too much, his scent already spiking with arousal.

Without even looking, without even turning around, Kei reached back and tossed a pair of pants directly at Fuma’s face. The other alpha barely reacted in time, snatching them out of the air before they could smack him.

Kei shot him a look over his shoulder, smirking. “Control your scent. You need food before round two.”

When Kei finally stepped out of the bedroom, Fuma followed. H e noticed a slight limp in the older alpha’s walk, like he was too sore to move properly. 

“You okay?” Fuma asked with a slight frown on his face.  Kei just glared at him over his shoulder as he headed towards the kitchen.

“I ran around for almost 90 minutes straight yesterday and then I nearly got my ass torn in two a few hours later. What do you think?”

“Oh, sorry” Right, duh. But a possessive thrill shot down Fuma’s spine, the realization sending something dangerous and smug curling in Fuma’s chest. But instead of letting Kei step into the kitchen, Fuma stepped in front of his roommate, placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed him down onto the couch. 

“I’ll make breakfast. You sit here and rest”

“I’m not gonna argue with that” Kei sighed happily, shifting down further into the couch cushions as he clicked on the tv. 

With Kei finally settled on the couch, Fuma turned toward the kitchen, rolling his shoulders before stepping up to the stove. Kei needed food. His alpha needed food. Fuma didn’t even question the thought anymore. It felt natural, as if his body had already accepted the shift between them, as if something deep in his instincts had finally settled after last night.

He glanced over his shoulder. Kei was sprawled on the couch, head tilted back, his body still relaxed and lazy from sleep. But instead of watching whatever show he had on, he was looking at Fuma with half-lidded eyes. The marks younger had left on him were still visible in the morning light - dark bruises on his neck, faint scratches on his chest where Fuma had gripped too tightly. Fuma turned back around quickly, jaw tightening, ears burning. Focus.

Grabbing eggs from the fridge, he cracked them into a pan, letting the soft sizzle fill the quiet of the apartment. A pot of water was already heating on the stove for rice, and he had a few pieces of leftover grilled chicken from yesterday to reheat on the side. Simple, easy, but good.

“You’re making a full meal at this hour?” Kei’s voice was low, teasing behind him.

“It’s literally past noon,” Fuma huffed. 

Kei chuckled, shifting slightly, still watching him. “It’s still impressive. I just should just mate you now so no one else can steal you away from me”

Fuma’s grip tightened on the spatula. “Shut up,” he muttered, stirring the eggs with a little too much force.

The rice finished cooking, the eggs were done, and the chicken was warmed through. Fuma plated everything, grabbing two bowls and balancing them in one arm as he turned back toward Kei.

“Eat,” he said simply, walking over to the couch.

Kei tilted his head, his smirk still in place. “You’re bringing it to me? So spoiled.”

Fuma sighed but sat down next to him, setting both bowls on the coffee table. “You can barely walk, I figured I’d be nice.”

Kei snorted. “You say that like it’s not your fault.”

Fuma ignored him, handing over chopsticks before digging into his own food. Kei finally took a bite, humming in approval.

Taking care of Kei like this… felt right. It felt more natural than anything he’s experienced before, a calling that seemed to flow from the very depths of his being. And as he looked to the side at the alpha he adored, watching him relax under his care, Fuma knew that he would gladly spend the rest of his days taking care of Kei.

After breakfast, neither of them had the energy or desire to go anywhere. The championship game, the afterparty, and - well, last night - had taken its toll on their bodies. So instead of going out, they ended up exactly where Fuma wanted to be. Back in bed. 

They had both settled under the blankets, a mindless movie playing in the background. Fuma wasn’t even paying attention. Kei was propped up against the headboard, one arm stretched out along the pillow, his fingers idly stroking through Fuma’s hair as the younger alpha rested against his chest.

Fuma had never been overly affectionate, never felt the need to be close to someone like this before. But right now, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Kei’s scent was calming, his body warm, his touch gentle. But the thought that kinda did all this backwards - slept together first, talked about it never - crept up on him slowly, worming its way into his brain, making his stomach tighten slightly with nerves. And now they were cuddling in bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. So, what did it mean? Fuma hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against Kei’s stomach.

“Are we, like… dating now?” The words were out before he could stop them.

The hand in his hair stilled and Fuma immediately regretted everything. Kei shifted slightly, his fingers pausing against Fuma’s scalp, and the silence that followed made Fuma’s stomach drop.

“Forget I said that,” Fuma blurted, pulling away instinctively, suddenly feeling too exposed, but Kei’s arms tightened around him, keeping him in place as the older alpha laughed. A quiet, genuine chuckle, his chest vibrating with amusement.

Fuma scowled. “What the fuck is so funny?”

Kei grinned, looking down at him, eyes warm, teasing, but something else too. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

Fuma’s face heated immediately. “Shut up.”

Kei just smirked, fingers brushing through his hair again, calmer now, like he had been expecting the question.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“What?”

“We’re dating.”

“That’s it?”

“You want me to make a big speech or something?” Kei arched a brow.

“I don’t - I just thought -” Fuma sputtered.

Kei smirked, cutting him off with a slow, lingering kiss, pressing him back into the pillows, lips moving soft, deliberate against his. By the time he pulled away, Fuma’s brain had melted completely.

The older alpha grinned. “You think too much.”

Fuma scowled, but his heart was racing. “So, it’s really that simple?” he muttered, voice quieter now.

Kei held his gaze, steady, sure. “It’s always been this simple.”

Fuma let out a slow breath, feeling the last bit of tension finally slip away as he settled back against Kei’s chest again, letting himself relax completely.

“…Okay,” he murmured.

Kei chuckled, pressing another lazy kiss to his temple.

“Okay.”

The next few days were spent at home, school and soccer in the back of their minds as Fuma and Kei got to know each other in new ways. 

Fuma felt like a puppy with how his need to be close to the older alpha reaching a new height. He followed Kei around the apartment like a shadow, never wanting to be more than an arm's length away from his boyfriend. Thankfully, Kei didn't mind in the least, in fact, he found Fuma's constant presence and attention utterly adorable. The younger alpha's need to be near him, to scent him, to touch him at every opportunity, only served to reinforce their new relationship.

Fuma would often pause in whatever task he was doing to bury his nose against the column of Kei's neck, inhaling deeply as he filled his lungs with the alpha's amber and cedarwood scent. His boyfriend would just chuckle softly, one hand coming up to stroke Fuma's hair soothingly as he tilted his head to the side, baring more of his neck for the younger male's eager mouth.

"You're being very cute, you know that?" Kei murmured, his voice a low, approving rumble that seemed to vibrate through Fuma's very bones. "I've never had anyone be quite so... enthusiastic about being near me."

Fuma just hummed, nuzzling into the warmth of Kei's neck as he pressed a line of soft, open-mouthed kisses to the alpha's skin. "Can't help it," he mumbled against the strong column of Kei's throat. "I just... I need to be close to you. Need to smell you, touch you, always. Need to know you're here with me."

Kei's heart clenched at the raw honesty and vulnerability in Fuma's voice. With what sounded almost like a purr, he wrapped his arms around Fuma and pulled him flush against his chest, holding him tightly as he peppered the top of his head with tender kisses.

"I know, baby," Kei soothed, rubbing his hands up and down Fuma's back in a slow, steady rhythm. "And I love having you close to me. I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, with you, always."

Fuma let out a shuddering sigh, melting bonelessly against Kei as he felt the alpha's strong arms enfold him. He knew that he was lucky to have found someone so understanding, and so patient - someone who had seemed to know what he needed weeks even before he did. 

Another thing that developed within Fuma, was his insatiable hunger for Kei. He had gotten a taste of the older alpha, and now he knew that he would never be satisfied with anything less. Fuma had never considered himself the insatiable type. But then again, he had never had Kei before. He couldn’t get enough of touching him, couldn’t get enough of hearing him, couldn’t get enough of being inside him - feeling Kei clench around him, feeling his nails dig into Fuma’s back, feeling the way he shuddered and melted every single time Fuma took him apart.

Even in the shower, Fuma was inseparable from Kei, his hands roaming over the alpha's wet, slick skin as he explored every inch of his boyfriend’s body. He would press himself against Kei's back, his chest heaving with desire as he nuzzled into the alpha's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way Kei's muscles flexed and twitched beneath his touch. The older alpha would brace himself against the shower tiles, biting his lip, trying to keep quiet while Fuma devoured him from behind, hands gripping too tightly, too desperately, unable to stop himself from pulling Kei apart all over again.

And as for their living space, Fuma had made certain to christen every surface, to claim every inch of their apartment. They had fucked on every piece of furniture, on every counter and table, their desire for each other proving to be insatiable. Fuma would bend Kei over the kitchen counter, the older alpha’s hands gripping the top of the granite as Fuma thrust into his tight, waiting heat, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm as old as time itself. The younger would press Kei up against the wall in the hallway, his back pinned to the cool surface as Fuma rutted into him, his hips moving with a force and intensity that left them both breathless.

After that, it almost became like a mission. The sofa. The desk in Kei’s room. The wall by the front door. The fucking balcony. There was no part of their apartment left untouched. No surface that Fuma hadn’t pushed Kei against, bent him over, pinned him to.

Kei has always been beautiful. Fuma had known that since the moment he saw him across the room during their freshman orientation class - the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his eyes glowed in low light, the easy, confident smirk that never quite left his lips. Kei was effortlessly stunning, the kind of alpha who commanded attention without even trying. Fuma knew that he would never tire of watching the beautiful ways in which Kei lost himself in the depths of pleasure that only he could evoke.

When Fuma wrapped his lips around Kei's length, taking him deep into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth, he would gaze up at the alpha with hooded eyes, his cheeks hollowing as he suckled and licked at the thick, pulsing shaft. The sight of Kei's face, his eyes fluttering shut, his brow furrowed in concentration and focus as he fought to maintain control, was one of the most erotic things Fuma had ever witnessed. The way Kei's mouth would fall open, a soft, breathless moan escaping those perfect lips, was enough to send new waves of lust crashing through Fuma's body each and every time. But it was when Fuma was buried to the hilt inside the tight, pulsing heat of Kei's ass that the alpha's expressions of pleasure reached a new level of breathtaking. 

As Fuma drove his hips forward, his thick length sinking deep into Kei's welcoming body, he would watch in wonder as the older alpha's face contorted with raw, unfiltered bliss. The way Kei's eyes would squeeze shut, his brows pulled down, and how his mouth fell open in a long, drawn-out moan, his tongue lolling out slightly as he gasped and panted for air, his body shaking with the force of the pleasure that crashed over him in unrelenting waves, was a sight that never failed to make Fuma's heart race and his own arousal surge.

Fuma absolutely swore he would never see a more beautiful sight until it was the evening before they had to go back to classes and the two of them were on the couch watching a movie. Fuma was sitting up while Kei was laying down with his head on his lap. 

“This movie okay?” Kei asked, turning his head to look up at the younger alpha. 

Fuma glanced down at Kei, his eyes meeting the older alpha's. The sight of Kei's face tilted up towards him, those full lips curved into a questioning smile, made Fuma's breath catch in his throat. He just nodded, unable to look away from Kei's face - those high cheekbones, the strong jawline, the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he smiled.

Even after their movie started, Fuma wasn’t really watching it. Not when Kei was lying right there next to him, looking way too comfortable, in a shirt he stole from the younger alpha, the glow from the screen casting soft shadows along his sharp jawline. His lashes flickered as he blinked lazily at the screen, lips parted slightly, his fingers idly tracing circles against Fuma’s forearm where they were tangled together under the blankets.

"You’re so pretty," Fuma heard himself murmur, the words slipping out before he could stop them. 

Kei just giggled, nuzzling his head into Fuma's lap. "You're more pretty.”

Fuma felt his blush deepen at Kei's words, spreading like wildfire across his skin. He couldn't believe an alpha like Kei thought he was pretty. Next to Kei's ethereal looks, Fuma always felt a bit plain.

"Impossible" Fuma whispered, his fingers still resting against Kei's jaw. He found himself tracing the line of it, as Kei nuzzled further into his lap after pressing play for the movie. 

“Agree to disagree, now come lay down with me” Kei sat up and shifted so Fuma could slide down behind him. Kei's muscular back nestled perfectly against Fuma's broad chest and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He automatically draped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist, holding him close.

As the movie played on, Fuma found himself getting lost in the scent and feel of Kei. He could hear the steady rhythm of Kei's heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. Fuma tried to focus on the movie, he really did, but his mind kept drifting back to the solid weight of Kei's body against his own.

Fuma let his hand drift down to Kei's stomach, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to touch the hard, sculpted muscle there so that the heat of Kei's skin could seep into Fuma's palm.  As he did, Fuma leaned in closer, breathing in deep inhales of Kei's intoxicating scent. The heady mix of amber and cedarwood filled his nostrils and made his head spin with desire. Fuma pressed his nose against the side of Kei's neck, right over his scent gland. He dragged it slowly across the skin there, relishing the feel of it, the taste of it against his lips.

He couldn’t stop himself from licking up the expanse of Kei’s neck, finally getting a taste of his addictive scent. As he licked and nuzzled at the older alpha's neck, Fuma felt Kei press his ass back against the growing bulge in his pants. The contact made Fuma groan low in his throat, his hips rocking forward instinctively to grind against that perfect, muscular ass. He could feel himself getting harder and bigger by the second, his cock throbbing almost painfully with the need for friction and release. But he didn't want to stop his exploration of Kei's body, didn't want to give up a single inch of this delicious skin.

Fuma moved his mouth up to Kei's ear, hovering just over it as he nipped lightly at the lobe. He loved the way Kei was responding to his touch, the way he arched into him and pressed closer, craving more. Fuma continued to rub his cock against the cleft of Kei's ass through their clothes before sliding his hand further down Kei's stomach, his fingers dipping teasingly into his waistband, just brushing past where he knew the older alpha was hard too. 

Strong hands suddenly gripped his face, making him gasp before Kei captured his lips in a searing kiss. The older alpha’s tongue delved past Fuma’s parted lips to stroke against his, and the younger found himself moaning into the kiss, his own tongue tangling urgently with the alpha's. The kiss was electric, sending sparks of pleasure zinging through every nerve ending in Fuma's body. It ignited a fire deep in his belly, a hunger that could only be sated by more of Kei's touch, more of his skin, more of him.

Fuma's hands came up to grip Kei's biceps, feeling the strong, coiled muscle there flex beneath his fingers as the older alpha held him close. He could feel the heat of Kei's body enveloping him, could feel the way his heart raced in time with his own. 

Fuma felt like he was drowning in sensation as he and Kei ground their clothed erections together, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating out from his core. Fuma's hips rocked up to meet Kei's, his cock throbbing almost painfully as it strained against the confines of his pants. He moaned wantonly into the alpha's mouth, their kisses turning sloppy and desperate as their hips moved in tandem. The taste of Kei was intoxicating, the way his tongue dominated Fuma's mouth, claiming him, consuming him. Fuma could feel himself getting lost in the heat and the hunger of it, in the raw, primal need that pulsed between them.

Kei's hands slid down from Fuma's face to his shoulders, his back, his ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh there as he pulled the younger alpha impossibly closer. Fuma could feel the strength in those hands, the power in that lean, muscular body as Kei pinned him to the couch beneath him.

Kei managed to pull himself away, looking down at the younger alpha with dark eyes that were filled with desire. “Can I suck you off?” 

"Y-yeah, fuck, please -" Fuma gasped out between desperate kisses, his voice ragged with need.  He couldn't even finish his plea before Kei was kissing him again, harder, deeper, his lips and teeth and tongue laying siege to Fuma's mouth. At the same time, deft fingers made quick work of the button on Fuma's pants, popping it open and tugging down the zipper in one swift motion.

Fuma lifted his hips eagerly, helping Kei to yank his pants and underwear down to his thighs. The cooler air of the room kissed his overheated skin for the briefest of moments before the scorching heat of Kei's body enveloped him once more, and then Fuma could feel the alpha's breath huffing over the aching length of his cock.

He was already leaking, the swollen head flushed and dripping with need. The sight of it made Kei groan, and then Fuma was crying out in pleasure as he felt the slick, wet heat of the alpha's mouth engulfs his aching length in one smooth glide.

"Oh fuck, Kei!" Fuma groaned, his back arching off the couch as he fisted a hand in the alpha's hair. He couldn't believe an alpha was sucking him off - let alone that it was Kei, his best friend, his boyfriend, who was reducing him to a shaking, desperate mess with just his talented mouth and tongue.

Immediately, the pleasure was almost too intense to bear. Kei's tongue swirled around the sensitive head of his cock, lapping up the bead of precum that leaked from the tip. He could feel the alpha's lips stretch around his girth, could feel the drag of his throat as Kei took him deep.

Fuma stared down at Kei with lust-darkened eyes, watching in awe and disbelief as the alpha's lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing length. He had never seen anything so erotic, so breathtakingly beautiful in his life. The sight of Kei's jaw working as he sucked Fuma off, the way his throat constricted around the sensitive flesh, it was almost too much for the younger alpha to take. If this was the last thing he saw before he died, then he would happily go knowing he’s seen all the beauty in the world right there in front of him. 

Fuma's hips jerked, fucking up into the welcoming heat of Kei's mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of the alpha sucking him off filled the room, spurring on Fuma's increasingly desperate thrusts. He could feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his gut, could feel his balls drawing up close to his body as his climax approached with breakneck speed.

"Fuck, your mouth... feels so good," Fuma gasped out, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. "Don't stop, please don't stop..."

He tangled his fingers tighter in Kei's hair, holding him in place as he rutted into the wet heat of his mouth. The alpha took him all the way down his throat, and Fuma could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with every passing second.

"Gonna cum," he warned desperately, his voice strangled and urgent. "Kei, fuck... I'm gonna cum!"

Kei just hummed around his length, the vibration sending shockwaves shooting up Fuma's spine. The alpha's hands gripped Fuma's hips bruisingly tight as he pulled him in deeper, taking him to the hilt.

With a loud groan, Fuma came undone, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he spilled himself down Kei's eager throat. The alpha swallowed it all, not spilling a single drop as Fuma shuddered and jerked through the aftershocks of his intense climax.

Finally, as Fuma collapsed back against the couch, spent and panting, Kei released him with a lewd pop. He licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of Fuma's release, and grinned up at him with a look of deep satisfaction.

Fuma couldn’t even be embarrassed that he came so quickly, pulling Kei back upwards so he could crash his lips against Kei's in a desperate, hungry kiss, moaning into the alpha's mouth as he tasted himself on his tongue. The flavor of their mixed essences was intoxicating, sending Fuma's head spinning with lust and desire. At the same time, he slid his hand down the waistband of Kei's sweats, his fingers wrapping around the thick, pulsing length of the alpha's cock. He could feel it throbbing against his palm, could feel the way Kei leaked and dripped with his own arousal.

Fuma stroked him slowly, savoring the feel of all that hot, hard flesh in his grip. He could feel every ridge and vein, could marvel at the way Kei twitched and jerked at his touch. The alpha was so big, it made him feel incredibly turned on. His other hand slid up Kei's chest, his nails raking lightly down the alpha's skin. He could feel the way Kei's muscles flexed and jumped at his touch, the older alpha's moaning as the younger's fingers teased his nipples. 

He pumped Kei harder, faster, squeezing and stroking, working the alpha towards his own desperate release. Fuma felt the alpha's cock pulse and throb in his grip as Kei's orgasm overtook him. The hot, sticky essence of the alpha's release coated Fuma's fingers, dripping down onto his wrist as Kei shuddered and groaned above him.

"Fuck, Fuma!" Kei gasped out between clenched teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself onto the younger alpha’s waiting hand. 

The sight of the powerful alpha losing control, the feel of his hot cum painting Fuma's skin, it was hot as fuck. Still stroking Kei through the aftershocks, Fuma brought his other hand up to grab the alpha's face, capturing Kei's lips in a searing kiss, tasting the alpha's pleasure, swallowing down his moans.

When they finally broke apart, Fuma brought his dripping hand up to his mouth. He licked his fingers clean, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste of Kei's release. Then he leaned in to capture the alpha's lips once more, letting Kei taste himself on his tongue.

“Bedroom?” Kei panted against his mouth and Fuma barely had time to nod before Kei was up and off the couch, dragging him to his room. 

Dating another alpha was easier than expected. Dating Kei was an adjustment. People tended to stare and Fuma wasn’t sure if it was because two alphas were together - because that wasn’t exactly common - or if it was because people were jealous that he had manage to bag the hottest alpha on campus.

Kei was the alpha everyone wished they could be with. He was the star athlete, and the golden boy with the kind of face poets could only dream of writing about. Kei had always drawn attention - always had people watching him, whispering about him, wanting him. But now the hottest alpha on campus was all over another alpha, walking through campus hand-in-hand, pulling him in for casual kisses, throwing an arm over his shoulder like he belonged there - like everyone should know who he belonged to. Fuma felt the gazes lingering, the whispers as they passed, the occasional wide-eyed double take when Kei leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, completely unbothered.

At first, it made his skin itch. Made his inner alpha bristle, defensive, ready to snap at anyone who looked at them too long. Fuma had never been big on public displays of affection. Hand-holding? Not really his thing. Kissing in front of other people? Hell no. He’d always been someone who kept things private, who didn’t feel the need to broadcast his relationships for everyone to see. But Kei was different, he liked to touch. He liked to drape himself over Fuma’s shoulders, to grab his hand absentmindedly, to bump their knees under tables, to kiss him without warning, without caring if people were watching.

So, Fuma tried because every time he saw the pleased look in Kei’s eyes when he let their fingers stay intertwined a little longer, or when his lips curled into a soft smirk when Fuma didn’t pull away from a casual kiss, Fuma realized something important. Kei liked to be loved out loud. So Fuma was learning how to do just that. 

It started when they were walking to class together. Fuma had his hands stuffed in his pockets, and Kei walked beside him, sighing dramatically, and bumping their shoulders together, muttering "Wow, I guess my boyfriend just hates me," Fuma rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand without a word. The other alpha had immediately brightened, squeezing Fuma’s fingers in his own, swinging their hands slightly as they walked. Fuma kept his gaze forward, ears burning, but when he felt Kei’s thumb brush over his knuckles, he didn’t hate it like he thought he would. 

The first time Kei kissed him in front of their friends, it happened so naturally, so effortlessly, that neither of them even realized it. They had been lounging at Chan and Minho’s place, and the group gathered around just for a night of hanging out and playing cards.

Fuma wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation at large, too distracted by the soft skin under his fingers as he felt Kei’s thighs between the rips in his jeans. But then he realized everyone was staring at him, like they were waiting him to answer something. 

“Huh?” He blinked and everyone erupted into laughter. 

“You’re so cute” Kei cooed, leaning in to kiss him. 

Fuma responded immediately, pressing closer as his hand squeezed Kei’s thigh tighter, and deepening the kiss like they were alone in their apartment and not in the middle of a room full of their friends. It was natural, instinctive, the way Fuma tilted his head, and the way Kei’s fingers curled into his hoodie.

“OH MY GOD, THEY’RE MAKING OUT”

“MY POOR VIRGIN EYES”

“KEVIN, WHERE’S MY MONEY?”

Fuma and Kei slowly pulled away, turning to look at their friends, who were all staring at them. Somehow, everyone had gone quiet, except for Hyunjae, who was pointing at them in pure shock. 

“It’s about damn time!” Chan shouted, throwing his hands in the air like he had been personally waiting for this announcement for years. His words broke the silence, the room erupting with excitement, their friends talking all over each other, and processing the fact that Kei and Fuma had just kissed in front of them.

“Wait, you guys weren’t already dating?” Jiwoong looked between the two of them, slightly confused at what everyone was freaking out about. 

Fuma scowled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Minho drawled, leaning back against the couch, “that you two have been acting like a couple for so long that it’s honestly a little embarrassing it took this long to make it official.”

Kei, sitting beside Fuma, grinned smugly, his arm casually draped over Fuma’s shoulders, as if this was all going exactly how he had expected.

“So you all knew?” Kei asked, amused.

“Knew?” Kevin snorted. “Dude, we’ve been waiting.”

Hyunjae nodded. “Yeah, you guys have been all over each other for months. It was only a matter of time before Fuma finally snapped and did something about it.”

“And you bet on us?” Fuma asked, brows furrowed as he watched Kevin reach into his wallet with a very heavy sigh and pull out 20 dollars before passing it over to Minho, who accepted the cash with a large, shit-eating grin. A few others also groaned, forking out their own amounts of cash to others in the group. 

“Well duh, I just thought it was gonna be at graduation. You know, in some grand, dramatic, public confession” Kevin told them with a shrug. 

“I guessed over Christmas” Chan shook his head. 

“I’m the only one who guessed correctly. After the soccer game, right?” Minho asked, not even looking up the pile of cash he was currently counting. 

“Yeah” Fuma narrowed his eyes at his friend. 

“I knew it. I saw you guys humping each other in the corner of the party and then a moment later you were both running out of here like your pants were on fire” Minho finally looked up at them, a downright mischievous look on his face. 

Fuma felt embarrassed at the memory, that he and Kei did get a little hot and heavy at the party. Kei just laughed, cuddling into his boyfriend’s side as they listened to their friends all share when they thought the two of them would make it official. 

The two of them walked home after saying goodbye to all their friends. The night air was crisp and cold, the kind of December chill that nipped at their noses and made every breath come out in soft puffs of white. It had just started snowing, tiny flakes drifting lazily through the air, landing on Fuma’s hoodie and the messy strands of Kei’s hair. They walked side by side, hands fitted together like second nature, the city lights soft and distant, their apartment just a few blocks ahead.

“Are you going home for winter break?” Kei asked, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between the two of them. 

Fuma shrugged, eyes still fixed on the ground ahead of them. “Dunno, haven’t really thought about it.” he admitted.

Which was true. He hadn’t checked the train schedule, or even called his parents to talk about it. Because for the past few weeks, all he had thought about was Kei, and the way he made him feel more at home than home ever had. Fuma’s grip tightened slightly around Kei’s fingers, grounding himself.

“How about you?” Fuma asked after a beat. 

“Nah,” he said. “My parents are flying to Singapore for the new year. There’s some sort of giant party in Marina Bay that my mom has been dying to check out”

“And you’re not going with them?”

“And be the third wheel to my parents? Ugh, no” Kei shivered at even just the thought. “Even my brother is going on a trip with friends so there’s no point in heading back”

Fuma just nodded, the two of them falling into silence again but Kei seemed to be thinking about something, his hand fiddling with Fuma’s finger. He kept his eyes forward, lips parted slightly like he was trying to find the right words.

“Actually, I was thinking…” Kei cleared his throat, gripping Fuma’s hand a little tighter, but still not looking at him. “Maybe,” he said, a little too quickly, “we should rent a cottage or something. Just us. Get out of the city for a bit.”

Fuma stared at his boyfriend, who had a faint pink blush across his cheeks - that definitely wasn’t from the cold. 

“You want to rent a cottage? With me?” Fuma asked. 

“Is that weird of a suggestion?” Kei voice was mumbled by how he hid the lower half of his face beneath his scarf. 

“It’s not weird, it’s cute.” Fuma quickly explained, tugging Kei closer so he could look into Kei’s eyes. “You really want to go on a romantic getaway with me?” 

Kei rolled his eyes at Fuma’s lightly teasing tone, shoving his boyfriend lightly before turning away - but he didn’t let go of his hand.

“I just figured it’d be nice,” The older alpha muttered. “No school, no noise, no one else around. Just us.”

Fuma’s smile softened. It sounded perfect. He squeezed Kei’s fingers, pulling him back slightly.

“Okay.”

 “Yeah?”

Fuma nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Kei stared at him for a second, like he was trying to make sure Fuma was serious, before a slow, satisfied smile curled on his lips.

“Good,” he said, tugging him forward again. “Then let’s book it when we get home.”

Fuma let himself be pulled along, heart thrumming in his chest, warmth blooming in his ribs.

Chapter Text

The moment they got home, Kei and Fuma collapsed onto the couch, legs tangled, the soft glow of their laptop screens illuminating their faces as they scrolled through cottage listings online. It was late, the apartment was quiet, and outside, the snow was falling heavier now, coating the city in a fresh blanket of white. Fuma leaned into Kei’s side, their fingers still loosely twined together from the walk home. They weren’t being picky, not really.

“Something far enough away that we don’t have to deal with people, but not so far that we’re wasting half the day just driving there,” Fuma mused, scrolling through the listings with one hand, the other absently tracing circles against Kei’s thigh.

“Electricity and Wi-Fi,” Kei added.

“Obviously.”

“Indoor plumbing.”

Fuma snorted, shooting Kei a look. “You don’t want to freeze your ass off walking outside to take a piss?”

Kei grinned, leaning in closer to his boyfriend's side. “Nah, we both like my ass warm.”

Fuma rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked up into a smile anyways.

Most of the listings they scrolled through were either too expensive, too fancy, or too isolated - not that either of them had a problem with being alone, but the idea of getting snowed in for a week with no way out wasn’t exactly ideal. After nearly thirty minutes of half-hearted browsing, Kei suddenly sat up.

“Wait,” he exclaimed.

Fuma glanced at him. “What?”

Kei leaned forward, grabbing his phone, tapping through his contacts until he pulled up a number. “I think I know a place. A family friend has a cottage. I used to go there with my family when I was younger - nothing fancy, but it’s got everything we need.”

Fuma raised a brow. “And you just remembered this now?”

Kei shot him a look, but he was already typing out a message. “Shut up. Let me ask if it’s available.”

Fuma huffed out a laugh, watching as Kei fired off a text, his fingers moving fast.

“Are they even gonna say yes?” Fuma asked, skeptical.

Kei shrugged, leaning back. “They love me. I’m adorable.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Kei just grinned, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“Give it a chance,” he said, stretching out his legs, draping an arm over Fuma’s shoulders, pulling him in like this was just another ordinary night.

It was sometime the next morning during breakfast when Kei’s phone finally buzzed. Fuma’s head snapped toward it as Kei picked it up, read the message, and then he smirked.

“We got it.” Kei turned to him, grinning. “Get ready, babe. We’re going on a trip.”

Finals week had been hell, as expected. Fuma and Kei had barely seen each other outside of sleeping in the same bed at night, both of them too busy drowning in their own classes, their schedules off-sync for the first time in months. But even then, they always tried to find time. A quick kiss in between study sessions, calling each other as they walked to their next class, Kei showing up at the library to drag Fuma out when he was studying too much, and Fuma forcing Kei to eat when he got too caught up in his own work.

But now, it was finally over, the semester was done. Final exams were submitted, projects turned in, stress levels finally beginning to fade. And with it came the cold bite of December, the campus now quieter, students already heading home for break, dorms slowly emptying out. Fuma let out a long exhale, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked across campus, his breath coming out in soft, white puffs in the cold air. He was on his way to meet Kei, who had just finished his last exam. 

The second he spotted Kei outside the main building, bundled in his usual hoodie and jacket, he barely had time to react before Kei threw himself into his arms. It wasn’t a dramatic, over-the-top kind of thing - just a heavy sigh, a full-body collapse into Fuma’s chest, like he had been waiting for this moment all week. Fuma held him up effortlessly, arms wrapping around Kei’s waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His boyfriend’s face pressed into his neck, his warm breath exhaling against his skin, and Fuma could practically feel the tension melting off of him.

“Exams are over,” Kei muttered against his hoodie, his voice muffled but relieved.

Fuma smirked, pressing his chin lightly against the top of Kei’s head. “Didn’t think you’d survive?”

Kei let out a tired laugh, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, eyes bright with exhaustion and excitement, his fingers fisting into the fabric of Fuma’s jacket like he was ready to go right this second.

Fuma huffed a laugh, but his heart twisted a little at how much Kei had clearly been looking forward to this.

“Yeah,” He murmured, his grip tightening slightly around Kei’s waist. “Let’s go.”

Kei grinned, stealing a quick kiss before stepping back. Their apartment wasn’t far, just a short walk away, and Kei’s fingers slipped into his again, holding onto him as they made their way home, ready to pack up and get out of here.

Packing was going smoothly. If they were staying for a week, then Fuma would need a new shirt for every day, and then plus some extra shirts to sleep in, and he would need the double amount of socks just in case… or should it be the double amount of underwear? Fuma barely glanced up from where he was shoving extra underwear into his duffel bag when Kei’s phone started to ring on the nightstand.

“Hey, Mom,” Kei said, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he continued folding a pair of pants. Fuma looked up, curious now, watching as Kei nodded along to whatever his mom was saying, his movements slowing just a bit. 

“Yeah, exams are over,” Kei said, grabbing a sweater next and carefully folding it - which was a sign that he was definitely concentrating on something else.

“Oh, um - yeah, Fuma and I are going away for the break,” Kei added, his voice casual. “We’re renting Mr. Tanaka’s cabin for the week.”

Mrs. Koga must've replied and whatever she said had Kei’s hands pausing mid-fold, the tips of his ears starting to turn pink. 

“Uh, no,” Kei muttered, clearing his throat. “It’s… it’s just the two of us.”

Fuma watched as Kei’s blush deepened, creeping up his neck, his fingers fidgeting slightly with the fabric in his hands. Fuma grinned, he didn’t need to be on the call to know exactly how his mom had responded.

“She’s teasing you, isn’t she?” Fuma muttered, highly amused as he moved closer, casually grabbing a hoodie from the bed as an excuse to be within earshot. His boyfriend just glared at him, mouthing a silent shut up before turning back to his phone.

“So, are you two finally dating now?”  

“Mom,” he groaned, already exasperated. “I mean, yes, we are, but why would you -”

“I knew something was going on,” she continued, her tone way too pleased with herself. “You’ve been talking about him so much lately -”

“You’re making it worse by blushing,” Fuma pointed out and his boyfriend shot him a look of pure betrayal, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Oh, is Fuma there with you right now?” his mom asked, too casually.

Kei’s eyes widened slightly and before he could answer, Fuma leaned in toward the phone speaker.

“Hello, mother-in-law” he said smoothly, causing Mrs. Koga to gasp. 

“Oh my god, Fuma! You should’ve told me you were listening!”

Fuma smirked, thoroughly enjoying this. “You were saying something about how Kei talks about me all the time?”

“Oh, sweetheart, constantly!” she gushed. “He’s always mentioning you, always saying how you’re always spoiling him by cooking him food, and how you -”

“Mom,” Kei interrupted, still visibly flustered and moving away so Fuma couldn’t hear their conversation anymore. “I’m hanging up now.” Then, a pause. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send pictures. No, not those kinds of pictures - Mom! Bye.” And with that, he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the bed and burying his face into Fuma’s shoulder with a loud groan.

“I hate you,” Kei muttered, voice muffled against Fuma’s hoodie.

Fuma chuckled, slipping an arm around Kei’s waist. “She was teasing the hell out of you, wasn’t she?”

Kei lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “She asked if we were going to be busy all week,”

Fuma burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, gripping Kei’s hips. “She totally thinks we’re gonna be fucking nonstop.”

Kei shoved him away. “Don’t say it out loud!”

Fuma, still grinning, just pulled Kei back in, pressing a quick, amused kiss to the blush still lingering on his cheek. The older alpha grumbled something under his breath, but didn’t resist.

Fuma smirked. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Kei rolled his eyes, shoving his sweater into his bag a little too aggressively. “Just hurry up and finish packing, dumbass.”

It was no surprise that Kei’s parents had taken the news of them dating well. They had never once discouraged their son’s interests, never made him feel like he had to hide anything, never given him a reason to doubt their support. They were the kind of parents who cheered him on at every game, who called to check in regularly, who had been teasing him about Fuma long before he even realized his own feelings. They had no questions, no hesitation. Just acceptance. It made him wonder if his would his own parents be the same. He hadn’t thought about it much before, hadn’t really considered telling them yet. But now that he had seen Kei’s family react so casually, so warmly - so easily.

Fuma's parents always been very open about their traditionalist beliefs - only reminding Fuma that they were waiting for him to mate an omega every chance they got, but he wanted to believe that they would at least listen, that they would understand. Maybe they would see Fuma, see how much Kei meant to him, and maybe - just maybe - they would change their minds, because he was their son. And wasn’t that supposed to mean something? Didn’t that count for more than their beliefs, more than their expectations, more than some outdated, traditionalist view of what relationships should look like? This wasn’t just about him defying them for the sake of it. This was about Kei.

If he told them how much Kei made him laugh, how Kei knew him better than anyone, how Kei didn’t push, didn’t expect, and just let Fuma be exactly who he was, or maybe if he told them how Kei made Fuma feel safe, wanted, and loved…that it could be enough to change their minds. Wouldn’t they want him to be happy?

They probably still wouldn’t care. Fuma’s chest ached at the realization but deep down, in the darkest part of himself, he already knew the truth.

The thought sat heavy in his chest, an unspoken weight pressing against his ribs as he sat in the passenger seat of Kei’s car as they drove, leaving the city and heading north towards the cottage. Fuma reached out, grabbing Kei’s hand off his thigh so they could intertwine their fingers together. His boyfriend gave him a quick glance, smiling fondly as he squeezed their hands together. 

His parents would never approve of this. They would never accept that Fuma had fallen for an alpha, that he had chosen someone based on love rather than biology, that he had thrown away their expectations for something they would never understand. No matter how much he wanted to believe in them, he knew, in the end, they would never believe in him.

The drive had been long but peaceful, the roads winding through stretches of snow-covered countryside, the world around them slowly fading into silence the farther they got from the city. The cottage stood tucked deep in the forest, surrounded by towering snow-dusted trees, the entire world around them looking like something straight out of a winter postcard. It was two stories tall, built entirely of wood, with a charming wraparound porch that overlooked the sloping hill behind it. A few large windows faced the trees, their frames frosted from the cold, and a thin layer of fresh snow blanketed the roof and railings.

Fuma stepped out of the car, breath billowing in the air, his boots crunching softly against the untouched snow as he took it all in.

“Damn,” he muttered, turning toward Kei. “This is nicer than I expected.”

Kei smirked, slamming the car door shut behind him. “Told you I had good connections.”

Fuma rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched upward as he tilted his head back, letting the cold, crisp air settle in his lungs. It was quiet here - the kind of quiet he wasn’t used to, the kind that made everything feel still, peaceful, weightless. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the faint chirp of distant birds broke the silence, and for the first time in a while, Fuma felt his body relax completely.

“Come on,” Kei said, stepping past him, keys in hand. “Let’s get inside before we freeze.”

Fuma followed, stomping the snow from his boots on the porch as Kei unlocked the door and pushed it open. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside with all wood-paneled walls and had a warm, rustic charm, with an open living area that had a large stone fireplace sitting against the far wall. A cozy-looking couch faced it, a soft throw blanket already draped over the armrest, and a small kitchen sat just off to the side, its countertops and cabinets all dark wood and smooth finishes. A wooden staircase led to the second floor, where the bedrooms were, and Fuma caught a glimpse of high, vaulted ceilings and another large window that overlooked the trees. It was perfect. And for the next week, it was theirs. 

“This is gonna be good,” Kei murmured, looking around, clearly pleased with the place as he set his bag down by the front door. 

Fuma smirked, dropping his own bag beside Kei’s. “Hope you like being snowed in with me.”

Kei turned, grinning. “That was kind of the whole point.”

Fuma’s stomach flipped slightly at the look Kei gave him, his eyes dark with something fond, teasing, knowing. The older alpha leaned in, pressing their lips together in a slow, lazy kiss, one that tasted like contentment, like relief, like we’re finally here. Fuma sighed into it, hands finding Kei’s waist, pulling him closer, breathing in his familiar scent, the warmth of him so much better than the would-be heat from the fireplace.

Kei’s hands slid beneath Fuma’s jacket, fingers pressing into his sides, tugging him forward until there was nothing between them. Fuma groaned against his mouth, feeling the pull, the need, the instinct to claim, to take, to have. And his boyfriend was already melting into it, sighing softly, pressing himself closer, his entire body saying yes, yes, yes.

Fuma wasn’t even thinking anymore when his hands found Kei’s thighs, lifting him effortlessly, letting Kei wrap his legs around his waist as Fuma walked them blindly toward the closest surface that would hold them. A table. The kitchen counter. The back of the couch, it didn’t matter. Because before they even unpacked, before they even settled in, before they even did anything at all, they christened this place, too. Because of course they did. Fuma had spent the last few weeks starving for Kei, thinking about this moment, about having him all to himself with no limits, no interruptions. And Kei - his perfect, frustratingly beautiful Kei - had been waiting too.

Fuma could fall asleep like this. Right here, exactly where he was, with the front of his bare body pressed flush against Kei’s, their warm, sweaty skin still cooling from the mess they had just made of each other.

The air inside the cottage was chilly, but he didn’t feel it. Not with Kei beneath him. Not with his amber and cedarwood scent all over Fuma’s skin - covering his own spiced vanilla and leather, with Kei’s steady heartbeat thrumming softly in his ear, with gentle fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, lazy strokes. Fuma let out a quiet exhale, his eyelids fluttering, his body sinking deeper into the warmth of his boyfriend, of their bed, of everything Kei was.

This was peace. Kei was his peace.

“Babe,” Kei murmured, voice soft but teasing, the vibrations rumbling through his chest.

Fuma grunted, nuzzling deeper into his boyfriend’s neck, fully intent on ignoring whatever Kei was about to ask of him. The older alpha huffed out a laugh, fingers still stroking through his hair.

“Fuma.”

“Mmm.”

“We need firewood.”

Fuma groaned, burying his face deeper into Kei’s skin. “I’m warm enough.”

Kei chuckled, his free hand trailing down Fuma’s back, settling at his waist.

“You say that now,” he mused, smirking. “But once the temperature drops, you’re gonna start whining, and I’m not getting out of bed when that happens.”

Fuma huffed, lips brushing against Kei’s collarbone. “Then let’s just stay like this.”

Kei made a thoughtful sound, his fingers tracing light circles into Fuma’s side. “That’s tempting,” he admitted. “But I wanna take a shower.”

Fuma snorted, cracking an eye open. “You’re telling me I should get up and do actual work in the freezing cold, but you get to take a nice, hot shower?”

Kei’s smirk deepened. “Exactly.”

Fuma groaned louder, but Kei just laughed, finally untangling himself from their embrace as he sat up.

“Come on,” Kei urged, stretching his arms over his head, the soft glow of the lamps casting shadows over his bare chest, his toned arms, and the red marks Fuma had left behind.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll get the damn firewood.”

Kei grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the back of his neck before standing up. “Good boy.”

The younger alpha threw a pillow at him, causing Kei to just laugh at him as he disappeared upstairs into the bathroom.

Fuma sighed, rubbing his arms as he stepped out into the cold night air. The temperature had dropped even lower, the crisp bite of December sharp against his skin, making him wish he had stayed in bed tangled up with Kei instead of venturing out here for firewood.

Still, he had promised, and he wasn’t about to let them freeze just because he was too lazy to grab a few logs. The cottage had a small woodpile stacked against the side, already covered in a thin layer of snow, but as Fuma picked up one of the logs, he immediately realized they were too big. The fireplace inside was decent, but these logs were way too thick to burn properly.

He grabbed the axe that was leaning against a nearby wooden stump with a sigh. Well, might as well get a workout in. Rolling up his sleeves, Fuma grabbed a log and set it firmly onto the stump before taking a steady breath. Then, with one smooth motion, he raised the axe and brought it down hard. The log split cleanly, the two halves tumbling onto the snow-covered ground.

He grabbed another log, he repeated the motion, swinging with precision, splitting each one into smaller, manageable pieces. The rhythmic thud of the axe, the crisp snap of the wood breaking, the quiet hush of the forest around him was calming, in a way. Fuma had just lifted the axe again, preparing to split another log, when he heard the cabin door creak open behind him.

“Well, damn.” Kei’s voice was low, amused, and undeniably appreciative.

Fuma paused, lowering the axe slightly before glancing over his shoulder. Kei was standing just outside the cabin, bundled in a thick sweater and pyjama pants, his hair still damp from the shower, strands sticking to his forehead in a way that made him look softer, younger, and more relaxed. But it was the way he was looking at Fuma that made Fuma’s pulse spike. That sharp, half-lidded gaze, a lazy smirk, like he had just caught Fuma doing something deliciously entertaining.

Fuma raised a brow, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. “What?”

Kei leaned against the porch railing, eyes dragging over Fuma’s stance. “You look hot. It’s kinda turning me on.”

For a full two seconds, the younger alpha just stood there, processing the words, the heat coiling low in his stomach, the way his boyfriend's scent had shifted into something heavier, and just slightly teasing.

“Be quiet,” Fuma muttered, turning around and repositioning his hands on the axe again. 

“What?” Kei laughed. “Am I wrong? You swinging an axe like that? All strong and sweaty? It’s hot, you’re like, peak alpha right now”

Fuma exhaled sharply, dropping the axe onto the stump with a soft thud before turning to face his boyfriend again. 

“Whatever you’re trying to do, isn’t gonna work. It’s snowing outside, Kei. I’m not fucking you out here” Fuma told him and Kei just gasped dramatically, hand on his chest like he’s been falsely accused of something. 

“What! I would never suggest something like that” Kei sniffed, before shrugging. “But you know, that wood pile would be the perfect height for me to bend over and -”

“Kei, go back inside before you catch a cold,” Fuma said, his tone serious. His boyfriend just giggled, pushing himself off the railing. 

“Fine, you’re no fun” Kei turned and headed back to the front door. “I’ll get started on dinner”

A few days passed, and it was great, just him and Kei, away from everything, spending their days wrapped up in each other, doing whatever they wanted, however they wanted. Mornings were slow and warm, waking up tangled together, their bodies still heavy with sleep, their limbs twisted in the sheets. Kei liked to bury his face in Fuma’s chest, muttering something about “five more minutes” while Fuma ran lazy fingers through his hair, watching the light spill through the window.

When they finally did get up, Kei would make coffee, Fuma would cook something simple, and they’d eat together, sitting close at the kitchen table, Kei stealing bites from Fuma’s plate like it was his right. And then for the rest of the day, they’d do whatever they wanted. They had played almost every board game in the cabin, from card games, board games, to ridiculously intense rounds of chess, but it always ended the same way - Fuma winning more than he lost, and Kei pretending he didn’t care (he did and would pout about it for hours afterwards).

At night, they curled up in front of the fireplace, watching whatever old movies were stocked in the cabin. Kei would throw his legs over Fuma’s lap, resting his head against his shoulder, making little snarky comments about the characters while Fuma just held him, completely content.

When they weren’t holed up inside, they wandered through the nearby town, visiting little shops and cafés, walking through snow-covered streets like they were the only two people in the world. Fuma wasn’t much of a small-town guy, but something about being here with Kei made it feel better. They grabbed hot chocolate from a café, Kei insisting on stealing sips from Fuma’s cup.

“You have your own” Fuma protested, watching as Kei took another sip.

Kei licked his lips, grinning. “Yours tastes better.”

When they weren’t in town, they explored the woods behind the cabin, walking through the snow-covered trees, their boots crunching against the frozen ground. Once they had reached an outlook, Fuma took the view in before turning to his boyfriend. 

“Last one back to the cottage makes dinner?” He offered, and before Kei could answer, the younger alpha took off running. 

Kei was fast. He was the fastest alpha on campus, if not the entire city. So, there was absolutely no reason for Fuma to be winning this footrace, right now.  The younger alpha was running as fast as he could, legs pushing and arms pumping, and Kei was only a few steps behind him, but he never overtook him. It was obvious he was letting Fuma win. But where was the fun in that?

So, Fuma slid to a stop and turned, catching Kei’s body as it crashed into his. The two of them tumbled to the ground, laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. Kei landed on top of him, pinning him down, breathless and smiling so wide Fuma thought his heart might just burst out of his chest. He grabbed Kei's face and brought it down towards his so he could press their cold lips together.

It was also impossible not to touch each other. Not when they were alone, with no rules, no limits, no interruptions. They had left countless bruises on each other’s skin, had spent entire nights wrapped up in the sheets, only stopping when they were too tired to keep going. Kei had teased him about it one night, sprawled out on the couch, still glowing from earlier.

“You’ve got an obsession,” he mused, smirking.

Fuma, half-asleep, rolled his eyes. “Not my fault you’re irresistible.”

Kei’s grin widened, his fingers trailing down Fuma’s stomach, lower, teasing. “Good thing we have all week, then.”

Even with the sex, the laughter, the games, the movies, the exploring, - there was one thing Fuma realized above all else. He never wanted to leave. Never wanted to go back to school, to stress, to expectations, to anything that wasn’t just them together like this. This week has been perfect. There were absolutely no disturbances, or at least there wasn’t until the 3rd night when Fuma was laying in bed, scrolling through his phone and waiting for Kei to get out of the shower. His phone buzzed, his screen lighting up with a name he wasn’t really in the mood to see. 

Mom.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He didn’t want to answer, and deal with whatever guilt-trip, expectation-loaded conversation was waiting for him on the other side. Because he already knew what this was about. He had told her weeks ago that he wasn’t coming home for the holidays, that he had plans. And yet, she was calling once more. For a brief second, Fuma considered ignoring it. Just letting it ring, tossing the phone aside, pretending he never saw it. But knowing she wouldn’t stop until he answered, he exhaled loudly, and he accepted the call. 

“Hello?”

“Why aren’t you coming home for the holidays?” His mother’s voice came sharp, and expectant.

Fuma immediately clenched his jaw. Right to the point.

“I already told you, Mom,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I have plans.”

“With what?” she pressed. “Friends?”

Fuma hesitated just long enough to give her an opening.

“You should be home with your family,” she continued, her tone firm, unyielding. “At least for one dinner.”

Fuma’s fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants, tension creeping into his shoulders. Even though he had already made plans, he had already chosen to spend this time with Kei, he could feel her expectations tightening around him like a rope. Like they always did.

“I -” He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. “I told you I was doing something else.”

“With who?”

Fuma’s throat felt tight. He glanced toward the bathroom door, where the sound of running water still filled the cabin. Kei was in the shower, probably humming some song under his breath, completely unaware that Fuma’s mood had just soured.

With who? With the person I care about more than anything.

“Friends” He sighed. 

Her sigh was long and disapproving. “You can’t come home for even one dinner?”

Fuma rubbed his temple, frustration building. “Mom -”

“You’re our only son, Fuma,” she said, guilt laced in every word. “Don’t you think it’s a little selfish to not come home?”

“Fine,” he muttered, grip tightened on the phone. “I’ll come for dinner.”

“Good.” Her tone immediately softened, like she had already won. “We’ll see you then.”

The call ended before he could say anything else. Fuma pulled the phone from his ear, staring at the screen for a second, his jaw tense, his stomach a mess of frustration and something heavier. Something that felt a lot like disappointment. Because deep down, he had already known. They would never bend for him. It was always him who had to bend for them.

Kei stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling out behind him, a towel slung loosely around his neck as he rubbed at his damp hair. The second he glanced over at Fuma, he knew something was wrong. Fuma was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone, shoulders tense, expression unreadable. Kei had spent enough time with him now to recognize when something was eating at him, so he walked over, and crouched down in front of Fuma, resting his arms on his boyfriend's knees as he tilted his head, watching him closely.

"What happened?"

Fuma exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing down at Kei. “My mom called.”

Kei’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah?”

“She asked why I wasn’t coming home for the holidays,” Fuma muttered, his tone flat, like he was already tired of the conversation. “Even though I already told her I had plans.”

Kei watched him, waiting as Fuma sighed, his fingers tapping absently against his knee.

“She said I should at least come for dinner,” he continued. “And it’s not really a request.”

Kei nodded slowly, taking it in. He could already see it, the familiar strain of obligation on Fuma’s face, the way he was bracing himself, the way his body language was tight, conflicted.

“I don’t mind if you go,” Kei said, softer now. “It’s just for a couple of hours, right?”

Fuma hesitated.

“Hell, I’ll come with you if that makes things easier.” Kei added. 

Fuma’s head snapped up, eyes widening slightly but Kei meant it. If Fuma wanted him there, if it would make this weight on his shoulders feel lighter, Kei would do it. He would sit through a dinner full of awkward silences and expectations, would take whatever passive-aggressive bullshit they threw at him just to make sure Fuma wasn’t alone in this. But Fuma shook his head.

“No.”

Kei frowned, his lips parting slightly, but Fuma was already looking away.

“I don’t want you there if I tell them,” Fuma muttered.

Kei’s chest tightened. He knew exactly what that meant. Fuma wasn’t just worried about awkwardness or tension, he was worried about them not accepting it. And Kei could handle a lot of things. But watching someone he cared about get torn down - watching someone he loved get dismissed like they didn’t matter - that wasn’t something Kei could stay quiet for. Fuma knew that.

Kei exhaled, sitting up slightly, pressing a warm hand to the back of Fuma’s neck, and letting his scent seep out, grounding the younger alpha.

“Okay,” he said simply. “Then I won’t come.”

Fuma’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Kei rubbed gentle circles at the base of his skull, letting the silence settle between them, letting Fuma process everything at his own pace.

“You sure you wanna tell them?” Kei asked, after a few moments of silence. 

Fuma let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted.

Kei’s lips twitched. “Then don’t.”

Fuma huffed, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know if I can keep it from them, either.”

Kei nodded, understanding. Because that was the hard part, wasn’t it? Hiding something that was this important. Pretending like he didn’t care for Kei when he did. His boyfriend didn’t press further. He just squeezed the back of his neck once before dropping his hand, standing up and grabbing a hoodie off the chair.

“Come on,” Kei murmured.

Fuma glanced up at him. “What?”

“Let’s go downstairs,” Kei said, tugging the hoodie on. “We still have leftover hot chocolate, right?”

Fuma stared at him and Kei shrugged, heading for the door.

“We’re not solving anything tonight,” he added. “So, we might as well drink something warm and forget about it for a while.”

Fuma hesitated for a second longer. But then, he stood up and followed Kei downstairs. Right now, he just wanted to be with his boyfriend. He could deal with everything else later.

The next night, Fuma stood by the door, jacket half-zipped, keys in hand, mentally preparing himself for what was waiting for him at dinner. Kei stood in front of him, his expression unreadable, but his scent was thick and warm, curling around Fuma like a quiet promise. Neither of them had said much as Fuma got ready to leave, but the air in the cabin was heavy, filled with unspoken words, unspoken worries.

Suddenly, Fuma was pressed back against the wall, trapped between Kei’s body and the door, a firm grip on his waist keeping him in place. The older alpha dragged his nose against Fuma’s jaw, down to his throat, pressing just firm enough for Fuma to feel his breath against his skin. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and Fuma’s head tipped back instinctively, giving Kei more access, more space, more of himself. Kei’s lips brushed over his pulse point, leaving behind gentle kisses, tiny bites, marks that wouldn’t fade for hours.

Fuma’s body physically relaxed once Kei kissed him. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic - just steady, thorough, a silent reassurance, a reminder of what was waiting for him back here. By the time Kei pulled away, Fuma was breathless. His lips were swollen, his scent was completely covered, and his body felt like it didn’t want to leave. Kei cupped his face, running a thumb slowly over his cheekbone, grounding him.

Then, in a voice so soft it almost broke Fuma right there, he murmured. “No matter what happens with your parents, I’ll be right here waiting for you, okay?”

Fuma swallowed, nodding once and Kei smiled, leaning in for one last kiss, short and sweet, before pulling back, tucking a strand of hair behind Fuma’s ear.

“Go,” Kei whispered. “Before I make you stay.”

Fuma let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to step away, forcing himself to walk out the door, even though every part of him wanted to stay. He got into the car, and started driving, heading toward whatever was waiting for him at dinner. 

His hands shook as he parked the car in his parents’ driveway. It hadn’t been that long since he was last here - just a few months, really - but it felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime before Kei.

The house stood exactly the same as he remembered - tall and proper, every light on, his mother’s car parked neatly beside his father’s. Fuma swallowed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he forced himself to take a deep breath. Kei’s scent was still on his skin, lingering in the fabric of his clothes, in the heat of his breath, wrapped around him like a protective shield. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, letting it anchor him, letting it remind him he wasn’t alone. Fuma could do this. One more breath, one more second. And then, he opened the car door.

His boots crunched against the pavement as he stepped out, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his heart pounding as he made his way toward the front door. The lights from inside spilled through the windows, illuminating the front steps, casting long shadows across the yard. It felt too bright, too open, too much like he was walking into something he couldn’t back out of. But he had already come this far.

He reached the front door, his fingers hesitating over the handle. For a brief moment, he thought about turning around. Thought about getting back in his car, driving back to Kei, falling into his arms, pretending this conversation didn’t have to happen. But he couldn’t. Because this was his family. And no matter how much he wished they would accept him, he knew deep down - this wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary.

The moment he stepped inside, his mother pulled him into a brief hug, telling him it had been too long since he last visited. His father gave him a firm clap on the back, nodding in approval as he ushered him inside. And for a moment, Fuma almost believed that this dinner would be normal. That nothing has changed, and he was still just their only son, home for the holidays, sitting at their familiar dining table, having the same conversations as always.

“How’s school?” his mother asked, her voice light as she passed him a plate.

“Good,” Fuma replied automatically, grabbing the serving spoon, going through the motions. “Exams were rough, but I made it through.”

His father hummed, nodding approvingly. “And your grades?”

Fuma fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“They’re fine,” he answered instead, taking a bite of his food. “Not failing.”

His mother clicked her tongue. “Not failing isn’t the same as doing well, Fuma.”

Fuma bit back a sigh, swallowing his food. “I’m doing fine,” he repeated. “Good enough.”

His father took a sip of his drink, watching him. “Good enough for what?”

“Good enough for me.”

There was a brief, tense silence that lingered just a second too long. But then his mother smiled again, brushing past it.

“Well, as long as you’re keeping up.”

Fuma nodded, keeping his shoulders loose, keeping his face neutral, keeping himself calm.

He should’ve seen the next topic coming, because no matter how much they talked about school, grades, responsibilities - it always circled back to the one thing they truly cared about. Omegas. And tonight was no different. His mother smiled at him, her tone light, casual, but Fuma could hear the underlying purpose in her words.

“Fuma, I was hoping you’d be here a little longer,” she started, passing him another serving of food. “I’ve got a few omegas lined up for you. Good choices. You should meet them.”

“Mom,” he sighed. “I told you before, I’m not interested.”

His mother’s expression didn’t falter. She smiled like it was nothing, like he had just said something silly, irrelevant, easily dismissed.

“Oh, Fuma,” she said, waving a hand, “you don’t even have to decide now. Just meet them, see if you like any of them. There are a few from very respectable families -”

“I said I’m not interested.” This time, Fuma’s tone was sharper, his jaw tightening as he pushed his plate slightly away.

His mother paused, blinking at him in surprise until his father finally spoke up. His voice was low, firm, cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere like a knife.

“You need to start taking this seriously, Fuma.”

“I am taking things seriously,”

His father took a slow sip of his drink, setting the glass down carefully before meeting Fuma’s gaze.

“You don’t have much time left,” he said simply. “You’re in your last semester of university. You should have started courting an omega years ago.”

Fuma stared at him, the pit in his stomach growing heavier. “I don’t want an omega,” he said, his voice quieter now.

His father’s gaze hardened as he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands neatly on the table, his voice calm, unwavering.

“If you don’t start courting an omega by the end of winter break,” he said, “we’re not paying for your last semester.”

The words hit Fuma like a brick to the chest. For a moment, he thought he had misheard. That there was no way they would actually… But then he saw the expression on his father’s face. Fuma’s pulse pounded in his ears, the weight of it crushing him, pressing against his ribs, making it harder to breathe. And it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. His mother, sensing the tension, tried to soften the blow.

“Fuma, sweetheart,” she said, gentler now, like he was being unreasonable for reacting this way. “We’re only doing what’s best for you.”

Fuma laughed. A short, bitter, broken sound. He could barely hear himself think over the roaring in his head, over the feeling of his entire life being pulled out from under him. Best for him? Or best for them? It reminded him of how his sister had told him they had propositioned - threatened - her with the same thing. 

“We just want what’s best for you, Fuma,” His mother said, gently, as if she hadn’t just threatened to pull him out of school. “We’ve given you everything. A home, an education, security. We want to see you settled with a proper mate - someone who can give you a strong future.”

The words came out before he could stop them.

“I don’t like omegas.”

A deep, heavy, crushing silence that settled over the table like a thick layer of ice. Fuma’s mother froze, her hand still resting delicately on the table, her soft smile gone in an instant. His father’s expression didn’t change - not at first. He just stared, his gaze sharp, calculating, like he was waiting for Fuma to realize what he just said and take it back. But Fuma didn’t take it back. He sat there, fists clenched under the table, his heart slamming against his ribs, but his voice remained steady.

“I don’t want to mate with an omega,” he said again, clearer this time. “And I never will.”

His mother’s lips parted slightly, as if she was about to speak but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she exhaled, placing a hand over her chest, shaking her head like she was trying to process it.

“Oh, Fuma,” she murmured, her tone softer now, almost pitying. “You’re just confused. It’s a phase. I knew you shouldn't have gone to school so far away”

He clenched his jaw. “It’s not a phase.”

She let out a breathy laugh, the kind that wasn’t really a laugh at all - just a nervous, forced gesture to smooth things over. “Sweetheart, you just don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Missing what? Do you really think I never slept with any of my previous girlfriends? I know what being with an omega is like”

“Enough.” The single word cut through the room, firm, cold, a sharp contrast to his mother’s gentle dismissal. His father was done listening.

Fuma slowly turned his gaze toward him. His father was watching him, expression hard, unyielding, his shoulders squared, his hands folded neatly over the table like a man delivering a final verdict.

“You need to grow up, Fuma,” he said, voice unforgiving.

Fuma felt his pulse pound against his skull as his father exhaled, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve had too much freedom,” he continued, as if Fuma’s entire identity was just some careless indulgence. “We let you make too many of your own decisions. Let you live how you wanted, let you waste your time with things that didn’t matter. But now it’s time to be a man.”

Fuma’s fingers curled into fists beneath the table.

“And what does being a man mean?” he asked, his voice sharp as his father gave him a pointed look.

“It means doing your duty,” he said simply. “It means putting your family first. It means mating with an omega and starting a household like an alpha should.”

Fuma let out a short, harsh laugh.

“So, that’s it, huh?” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m not an alpha unless I do what you want.”

Fuma was already holding back his anger, his frustration, his exhaustion - but when his father spoke next, it took everything in him not to burst out laughing.

“You should be more like your alpha friends,” his father said, his voice still stern, unyielding. “Like Kei.”

Fuma couldn't believe what he just heard. Like Kei?

Kei, the same alpha who he's been balls deep inside more times than he could count? Kei, who had literally woken him up with a blowjob this morning, sucking him off slow and lazy beneath the blankets while Fuma was still half-asleep, groggy and pliant, moaning into the pillows? Like that Kei?

Fuma bit the inside of his cheek so hard it nearly drew blood. It was hilarious, really. The way his father spoke of Kei like he was some shining example of what an alpha should be, the way he thought Kei was the perfect role model for him to follow, like the older alpha wasn’t the exact reason he would never fit into this world they wanted for him, like he wasn’t the very thing they were trying to erase from his life.

If only they knew.

If only they realized how many times he's had Kei on his knees, on his back, bent over the kitchen counter, or if they could see the marks Kei had left all over his skin, the way his scent was still woven into every part of him, wrapping around him like a silent promise. If they only knew that Kei was the one who had taught him how to love, how to be loved and how to be himself without shame. 

Fuma let out a slow breath, forcing his expression to remain neutral. But man, it was hard not to laugh. Instead, he just leaned back in his chair, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Like Kei,” he echoed, voice flat, amused despite himself.

His father nodded, oblivious. “He’s a responsible alpha. He knows his place, his duty. He’s someone you should be looking up to.”

Fuma’s lips twitched. Yeah. He looked up to Kei all the time. Usually from between his fucking thighs.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t sit here, couldn’t pretend, couldn’t force himself to be someone he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not when Kei was waiting for him somewhere far away from this bullshit. Fuma had been holding back for as long as he could, but this was too much. He let out a sharp breath, jaw clenching so tightly it ached. No more secrets. No more pretending. No more waiting for the right time.

“Actually,” he said, his voice too calm, too controlled, “I am being like Kei.”

His father frowned slightly, not yet understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m dating someone,” Fuma’s lips curled, tilting his head slightly.

His mother’s face lit up immediately, her lips curling into a small pleased smile - but it barely lasted a second before Fuma continued.

“An alpha.”

His mother choked on the sip of wine she had just taken. She sputtered and gagged, her face turning a deep shade of red as she struggled to catch her breath, and his father went completely still, eyes dark and unreadable, a thick silence stretching between them like a blade. 

“And not just any alpha,” he added, his voice flat, firm, unshaken. “I’m dating Kei.”

Fuma let it settle for a moment, let them absorb it, let them feel what he was saying.

“I’ve never been happier,” Fuma said, his heart pounding, but his voice was steadier than he expected. “And if being happy means you take away my tuition money, then go right ahead.”

His mother inhaled sharply, shaking her head, her face twisted in something between disbelief and horror. “Fuma. Think about it. You'll never be able to have a proper family, to have children and carry on the family line."

“I don't care," Fuma cut her off immediately, his patience gone.

“You were never going to accept this,” he muttered. “I knew that. I knew what you’d say, I knew how you’d react, I knew you’d look at me like I’m fucking broken just because I don’t want an omega -”

“Because it is broken.” His father’s voice boomed in the dining room.

“It’s disgusting,” he said, his voice cold, detached, like he was talking about a stranger, not his own son. “Two alphas together. There’s nothing natural about that. It’s a joke. A phase. And I won’t stand here and let you throw away your future just because you’re confused -”

“I’m not fucking confused.” Fuma’s voice snapped through the air, sharp, angry, vibrating with something deep and dangerous and exhausted.

“I love him,” he said, louder now, harsher, shoving back his chair as he stood up, his chest heaving. “And the only thing disgusting here is the fact that my own parents think they have the right to decide who I should be with.”

His mother stood too, her eyes wide, pleading, her voice shaking as she reached for his arm. “Fuma, please, just listen to us -”

But Fuma stepped back. Whatever small hope he had been holding onto, whatever tiny part of him that thought maybe they would change, that maybe they would love him more than they loved their traditions - it was gone. They were never going to accept him. Never going to see him for who he was.

“I don't care what you think, or what society says. I know what I feel, and I know that I love Kei. And if this relationship is destined to fail... then so be it. At least I'll have had the chance to experience it, to know that kind of love and happiness, even for a short time." Fuma exhaled sharply, shaking his head, teeth clenched. “You know what? Keep your fucking money. I will not let you make me ashamed of the man I love”

"If you walk out that door, don't think for a second you'll ever be allowed back in!" His father's voice shouted out after him as Fuma turned on his heel and strode out of the dining room. He grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to put it on as he shoved his feet into boots and stormed out the front door.

He left his parents’ house and didn’t look back - didn’t glance over his shoulder, didn’t pause at the end of the driveway, didn’t let himself hesitate. Because there was nothing left to look back for. His hands trembled as he pulled open the car door, the cold air biting at his skin, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the winter chill, or from everything he had just left behind.

His heart ached, of course. He had spent his whole life trying to be the son they wanted, trying to be enough for them, trying to make them proud even when he didn’t quite fit the mold they had built for him. They had made their choice. And so had he. But the thing was, it had never been a choice to begin with. Because despite the sorrow curling in his chest, despite the sting of their words still fresh in his mind, despite the small, fractured part of him that wished they could have been different - choosing Kei had been the easiest thing in the world.

Fuma let out a slow, shaky breath, forcing himself to start the car, the rumble of the engine breaking through the suffocating silence as he pulled out of the driveway.  Because his future wasn’t in that house. It was waiting for him somewhere far away, in a cabin in the middle of the woods, wrapped up in the arms of the only person who had ever truly seen him.

Chapter Text

Fuma barely remembered the drive back to the cabin. He couldn’t recall the turns, the empty roads, the snow-covered trees whipping past the windows. His heart was pounding, his breath was uneven, and his fingers were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

The moment he pulled up to the cabin, he barely put the car in park before shoving the door open, stepping out into the frigid night air, barely feeling the cold. He ran to the front door, his boots crunching against the snow, his entire body thrumming with a need so raw and aching it scared him. He threw the door open, startling Kei was in the kitchen and leaning against the counter, watching as an old cartoon movie was playing on the tiny television in the corner. Its soft, nostalgic music filled the space, mixing with the sound of the microwave humming as a bag of popcorn expanded inside.

When Kei turned, his brows were furrowed slightly, his lips parting in confusion. “Fuma?”

The younger alpha didn’t say anything as he crossed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing Kei by the hoodie, and kissed him, hard and desperate. Like his entire world had just collapsed in on itself, and Kei was the only thing keeping him standing. The older alpha stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but his hands immediately came up, gripping Fuma’s waist, steadying him.

The microwave beeped, and the movie kept playing, but all Fuma could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing, and the way Kei exhaled softly against his lips. Fuma could feel the heat of his hands, grounding him, could feel Kei’s breath against his skin, like a silent promise: I’ve got you. I’m here. The younger alpha shuddered, his body finally sagging, finally releasing all the tension he had been holding since he stepped foot into his parents’ house.

Kei pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against Fuma’s, his hands still on his waist, holding him like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

“What happened?” he murmured, his thumbs brushing gently along Fuma’s hips.

“They told me I was disgusting,” Fuma muttered, his voice rough, his forehead still resting against Kei’s. “For being with you.”

Kei went still, his grip on Fuma’s waist tightening just slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. Fuma swallowed hard, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, but he kept going.

“They said two alphas shouldn’t be together,” he continued, his breath shaky. “That I needed to grow up. That I was confused. That I was throwing my life away.”

Kei exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into the fabric of Fuma’s jacket.

“Fuck them,” He swore, making Fuma let out a sharp breath, something between a laugh and a sob.

“They told me to be more like you,” Fuma scoffed, laughing dryly, shaking his head. “Like they have any fucking clue who you actually are to me.”

Kei pulled back slightly, his hands coming up to cup both sides of Fuma’s face, forcing him to look at him.

“And then they gave me an ultimatum,” Fuma said, finally pulling back enough to meet Kei’s gaze. “Either I start courting an omega by the end of winter break, or they stop paying for my last semester.”

Kei’s jaw clenched. His scent soured and his eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface - like he was already planning what to do. But before he could speak, Fuma shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured.

Kei blinked, his brows furrowing. “Fuma -”

“It doesn’t matter,” Fuma repeated, his hands moving to grab Kei’s wrists, the older’s hands still on his face. “Because I don’t care.”

Kei stared at him, eyes searching, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him yet. Like he was afraid Fuma was saying it just to be strong, just to pretend he was okay. But Fuma wasn’t pretending. Because as painful as it was, as much as it hurt to be cast aside, as much as it ached to realize he would never be the son his parents wanted, he didn’t regret a single thing. He didn’t regret choosing Kei.

“I don’t care,” Fuma said, softer now. “I have you, so I have everything I need.”

Kei’s lips parted slightly, his fingers digging into Fuma’s waist, his expression shifting into something Fuma had never seen before.

“I love you,” Fuma murmured those three special words for the first time. “They don’t get to take that from us.”

Kei’s chest cracked open, the words hitting him so deep, so full, so certain that he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or fall apart completely.

“I love you too.”

“I love you, Kei. I know our relationship is still new,” Fuma said again, stroking his fingers through Kei’s hair, grounding him, grounding himself. “I know we’re still figuring things out. But I'm a firm believer of when you know, you know”

Kei’s lips parted, his pupils blown, his body trembling slightly as Fuma took a deep breath. 

“And I know that I want to be with you forever.” Fuma swallowed again, his thumb brushing over Kei’s cheekbone, voice dropping into something barely above a whisper. “One day, I want to mate you”

“You mean it?” Kei’s voice was shaking slightly.

Fuma nodded. “I do”

And then Kei kissed him like he needed to memorize the words on Fuma’s lips, like he needed to feel them sink into his bones. He wanted to erase every horrible word Fuma’s parents had said with the press of his lips. The younger alpha kissed him back just as hard, hands tangling into Kei’s hair, bodies pressing together, the air thick, and full of something so much bigger than them both.

They stumbled back against the kitchen counter, knocking into it with a dull thud, but neither of them cared. Kei’s hands were everywhere, sliding up Fuma’s back, gripping at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor. The younger alpha groaned against his mouth, his fingers fisting into Kei’s hoodie, yanking him closer.

The older alpha lips moved down, trailing along his boyfriend’s jaw, biting at his throat, his breath heavy, wrecking him completely. Fuma’s pulse pounded, and his body burned hotter than the fire in the next room, his hands sliding under Kei’s hoodie, gripping at his bare waist, dragging him closer. Kei’s hips rolled against his, his fingers curling into the hem of Fuma’s shirt, slipping under it, dragging against heated skin.

“Kei -” Fuma barely choked out his name before the older boy swallowed the sound with another kiss. Like he needed to remind Fuma, over and over - You’re mine. You’re safe. You’re here. You’re loved.

Kei pulled away just enough to rest their foreheads together, his breath ragged, shaking slightly as if he was trying to hold himself together.

“You wanna take this to the bedroom?” he murmured, his voice low. Fuma nodded, his breath uneven, and his body already burning with need.

Kei’s grin widened, his eyes dark and full of heat, but he didn’t hesitate, just grabbed Fuma’s hand, and pulled him toward the stairs, their fingers tangled together, their hearts pounding in sync. They barely made it up the first few steps before Kei turned, pressing Fuma against the wall, kissing him hard, hands already sliding under his shirt and pushing it up.

Fuma groaned into his mouth, his fingers fumbling with Kei’s hoodie, yanking it over his head, tossing it onto the floor as they stumbled forward again, lips never parting for too long. Every step was clumsy, desperate, the rush of needing each other too much to care about where their clothes ended up. Fuma’s shirt hit the stairs next. Kei’s sweatpants were kicked off halfway up. Fuma’s pants joined the pile, followed by more kisses, more touches, more everything.

By the time they reached the bedroom, they were barely dressed, their bodies flushed, aching, and wrecked with want. Kei pushed Fuma back onto the bed, crawling over him, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest. The younger alpha shivered, his hands grabbing at his boyfriend’s arms, dragging him back up, capturing his lips in another kiss, deep and hungry and full of love.

Fuma’s breath was ragged, his body burning, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. Kei was still hovering over him, pinning him down, his hands firm on Fuma’s wrists, his scent thick with something deep and possessive, but loving.

“I want you to make love to me.”

Kei’s grip tightened at Fuma’s words. The younger alpha’s pupils were blown wide, his breath shaky, as he pulled away to look at the alpha above him.

“You sure?” Kei asked and Fuma nodded, the look in his eyes giving the older alpha all the confirmation he needed. Kei let out a low, shuddering breath, his fingers trembling slightly, and his scent spiking with something deep and overwhelming.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He drank in the sight of his lover laid out beneath him like a feast for the taking, the younger’s body already trembling with anticipation.

Kei took his time, his touch achingly gentle as he explored every inch of Fuma's exposed skin. He trailed reverent kisses along the column of the younger alpha's throat, down the center of his chest, pausing to lave attention on each nipple until they pebbled under his tongue. He could hear the needy little moans and whimpers that spilled from Fuma’s lips with each press of his mouth against sensitive flesh.

"Shh, just relax," Kei murmured, his voice a soothing balm to Fuma's nervousness. "I'll make this so good for you, baby." His large hands skimmed over the curves of Fuma's waist and hips. He reveled in the feel of Fuma's muscles flexing beneath his fingertips, in the way the younger male arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

As Kei's lips reached back up to the juncture of Fuma's neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing lightly over the tender skin before he bit down, marking the alpha as his own. Fuma cried out, his fingers digging into the firm muscles of Kei's biceps as he bucked his hips up, seeking desperately for some friction, some relief from the aching hardness.

Kei could feel the alpha's arousal pressing urgently against his thigh, and with a low, approving growl, he slipped a hand between their bodies, grasping the thick, hard length of Fuma's cock, the swollen head already glistening with precum. Fuma let out a choked moan, his head falling back against the pillows as he arched into Kei's touch, his hips rocking desperately against the alpha's hand.

"Please, Kei," he begged, his voice high and thready with need. "I need... I need you so fucking bad”

“I gotta prep you first, okay?” Kei explained as he reached for the nearly empty bottle of lube that sat out on the bedside table. It was good idea in hindsight that they decided on bringing more than just one bottle. 

The older alpha rubbed the cool gel between his fingers, trying to warm it up slightly before trailing them teasingly along the cleft of Fuma's ass. Fuma's body shuddered and clenched, his muscles tightening instinctively as he felt the cool, slippery slide of the lubricant against his skin.

"Relax, baby," Kei murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the alpha's face as he circled the tight ring of muscle. "Breathe for me. Let me in, let me love you."

Fuma took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing his body to relax and his muscles to unclench. As he did, he felt the gentle pressure of Kei's finger pressing inside him, breaching him slowly and carefully, inch by excruciating inch.

"Ohhh, fuck," Fuma gasped, his head falling back against the pillows as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of something - someone - inside him for the first time. It was strange, and a little uncomfortable at first, but as Kei's finger began to move, he slowly got used to the sensation.

Kei wiggled the single digit, curling it slowly, searching for that spot that would make Fuma see stars. And when he found it, Fuma let out a choked moan, his spine arching off the bed as pleasure exploded through him.

"There you are," Kei purred, his voice a low, dark rumble that Fuma felt in his very bones. "My perfect little alpha"

He worked a second finger in alongside the first, then a third, stretching Fuma slowly, carefully, until he could take them easily. All the while, he rained soft kisses on the younger male's skin, murmuring sweet words of praise and adoration, until Fuma was drowning in sensation and emotion, his body writhing and bucking against the alpha's hand as he chased the pleasure that his fingers promised him.

"God, you're stunning," Kei murmured, fingers tracing the defined lines of Fuma's pecs, the firm swell of muscle filling Kei's large palm perfectly. "All this strength, this power... you're the sexiest alpha I've ever seen, baby."

His thumb circled and flicked over one of Fuma's nipples, the sensitive bud tightening into a stiff peak under Kei's touch. All the while, his other hand never ceased its steady rhythm, three fingers curled and scissored, rubbing deliberately over Fuma's prostate and wringing a strangled cry of ecstasy from the younger alpha's throat, mixing with the obscene sound of slick fingers plunging into a willing hole. He eventually withdrew his fingers slowly, leaving Fuma's ass empty and aching. The younger male whimpered at the loss, his hips canting up in a silent plea.

"Please, Kei," he begged, his voice ragged and raw with need. "I can't... I need... I need you inside me. I need to feel you"

Kei groaned low in his throat at his future mate’s words. "As you wish, baby," he murmured, grabbing the lube and slicking up his hard cock with quick, efficient motions.

Fuma watched, mesmerized and aroused beyond belief, as Kei positioned himself between his spread thighs, the swollen head of the older alpha’s cock nudging against the tight, slick entrance to his ass. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come, and then let it out slowly as he felt Kei begin to push forward, his thick length stretching him open and sinking slowly, steadily inside him.

"Fuck!" Fuma cried out, his back arching off the bed as he felt the burn and stretch of his virgin hole being penetrated for the first time. It hurt, but it was a good hurt - a sharp ache that only seemed to heighten the pleasure that was already coursing through his veins.

Kei paused, letting Fuma adjust to the feel of his thick cock splitting him open, his hands coming up to stroke and caress the alpha's chest and abs, soothing him with gentle touches and tender kisses pressed to his skin.

"I've got you, baby," Kei murmured, his voice low and soothing as he gazed down at Fuma with a look of pure, aching love. "I'm going to make this so good for you, I promise. Just relax and let me love you”

Fuma could only nod, his throat too tight to form words. He could feel Kei's cock throbbing inside him, pulsing and twitching, and he knew that he was already addicted to the feel of it and how it stretched and filled him so completely. Slowly, carefully, Kei began to move, his hips rocking forward in a steady, sensual rhythm that had Fuma seeing stars within minutes. He set a pace that was almost too slow to be called fucking, but that had Fuma writhing beneath him, desperate for more, always craving more.

Fuma tilted his head back to capture Kei's lips, pouring all of his need, and hunger into the heated press of their mouths. Kei returned the kiss with equal fervor, his large hands gripping Fuma's hips tightly as he rolled his own against the younger male, grinding his pelvis.

“Fuck, you feel incredible," Kei groaned against Fuma's lips. He punctuated his words with a slow, deliberate thrust of his hips, pushing his thick length even deeper into Fuma's ass. The younger male let out a choked moan, his back arching off the bed as the new angle allowed Kei to hit his prostate dead-on. Sparks of electric pleasure shot through him, making his toes curl and his fingers scrabble for purchase on the sweat-dampened sheets.

"Kei!" Fuma gasped, his hips canting up to meet the next thrust, chasing that devastating sensation. His nails dug into Kei's shoulders, leaving thin red lines on his pale skin. “Oh god, yes, right there! Don't stop, please don't stop..."

Kei obliged, setting up a slow, deep rhythm that had him pulling out until just the tip of his cock remained nestled inside Fuma, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt in the welcoming heat of his lover's ass. He could feel Fuma's body yielding to the relentless thrusts, his walls fluttering and clenching around his length as if trying to draw him in even deeper, to keep him sheathed in that perfect embrace forever.

Suddenly overcome by the need to dominate, to lay claim to the incredible alpha beneath him, Kei hooked his elbows under Fuma's knees, pushing the younger alpha's legs up and back toward his chest in a lewd, exposing sprawl. And with this new angle, he began to truly fuck into Fuma, his hips slapping against the sweat-slicked flesh of his boyfriend's ass with obscene wet smacks that filled the room.

Fuma's fingers dug deeper into Kei's shoulders, his blunt nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the firm muscle as the older alpha powered into him with increasing fervor. Each driving thrust punched the air from Fuma's lungs, only for him to drag in a shuddering gasp when Kei pulled back, setting up a brutal, punishing rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall and the mattress creaking in protest. Tears of overwhelming ecstasy pricked at the corners of Fuma's eyes, streaking his flushed cheeks as he clung to Kei with desperate, almost painful intensity.

"I love you," Fuma gasped out, the words torn from his throat on a choked moan as Kei's cock kept nailing his prostate dead-on. "Fuck, I love you so much, Kei! I can't... can't imagine ever wanting anyone else"

Kei groaned, a low, rough sound that spoke to the overwhelming surge of emotion swelling inside him at Fuma's impassioned confession. He captured the younger male's lips in a searing kiss, swallowing down every desperate, raptured moan and whimper as he continued his relentless assault on Fuma's ass, his hips pumping at a furious pace now.

"Mine," Kei growled against Fuma's lips, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through the alpha's chest and settled deep in Fuma's core. "Your ass is mine, your sexy body is mine, your beautiful heart is mine..."

As they moved together, their hips rocking in perfect sync, Fuma could feel the pleasure building inside him, could sense the way his climax was fast approaching. He felt the telltale tightening in his balls, the way his cock jerked and throbbed against his stomach. Each driving thrust sent bolts of electric pleasure zinging up Fuma's spine, making his toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head as the sensation became too intense to endure.

It was all too much, the feeling of being so perfectly, so utterly filled, stuffed to the brim and then some with an alpha’s cock. Fuma had never experienced anything like it before, never dreamed that he could find such pleasure in allowing another alpha to take control, and dominate him so thoroughly.

Writhing and mewling beneath Kei's powerful body, impaled and claimed and used in a way he'd never experienced before, Fuma could only sob in shuddering, desperate gasps as he teetered on the razor's edge of climax, his untouched cock jerking and twitching against his belly, leaving smears of pre-cum on his skin.

"Kei," he gasped, staring up at the older alpha with wide, desperate eyes. "I'm... I'm going to... fuck, I'm so close!"

Kei just grinned down at him, his eyes glinting with a triumphant look. "That's it, baby," he purred, his voice low and seductive as he increased the force and speed of his thrusts. "Come for me"

Fuma couldn't hold back any longer, and with a hoarse, broken cry of Kei's name, he came undone, his untouched cock pulsing and jerking as it spurted thick ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest. His ass clenched and fluttered around Kei's cock, the tight heat threatening to send the alpha over the edge with him.

Kei followed a moment later, with a guttural growl that seemed to shake the very walls of the room. He drove forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside Fuma's spasming ass, and then he was coming, his thick, hot seed flooding Fuma and painting his inner walls white.

They collapsed together, chests heaving and sweat-slicked skin sliding deliciously against each other as they struggled to catch their breath. Kei gathered Fuma into his arms, holding him close as he pressed tender kisses to the alpha's face and neck, murmuring words of love and adoration as he stroked his hair and back.

Fuma just clung to his boyfriend, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm, his mind blissfully blank as he drifted in the haze of post-coital bliss. The younger alpha let out a soft, dreamy sigh, his body feeling deliciously heavy and sated. The thought of finally being filled with his alpha's cum sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“You did so good, baby. You took my cock so well. I love you so much” Kei brushed damp strands of hair off Fuma's forehead, his calloused fingers lightly skimming over the younger male's flushed, tingling skin.