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Lamine Yamal stared at his closet with a mix of confusion and frustration. While the pants section was overflowing, there were only five sweatshirts left. Five? Just five sweatshirts! When did he go from having fifteen to barely any? Something was definitely going on, but he still couldn’t figure out what.
He sighed in resignation, briefly closing his eyes as he tried to think of possible explanations. "Maybe I should hide them, put a security camera in my house, or even... take my friends' keys away," he thought to himself, but quickly realized how ridiculous it sounded. Who would steal sweatshirts? Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something strange was happening.
In the end, he grabbed one of the remaining sweatshirts, which, by the way, were the ones he liked the least. "Great, not only are they stealing my clothes, but they leave me the worst ones," he muttered, glancing inside the closet as if something might change. As if more sweatshirts would magically appear. But no, it was still just as empty. He made a mental note to head to the mall for some new ones—he couldn’t stand wearing these any longer. No way.
He put on the sweatshirt almost automatically, hoping it at least fit well. He looked at himself in the mirror on the closet door, checking every detail of his reflection. The sweatshirt wasn’t anything special; it was a plain black one, with no designs or anything. But the real problem was the neck, which had a weird shape, and the fabric, which started to itch as soon as he put it on.
"Thank God I’m so good-looking", he thought while adjusting his hair a little. In the end, he could make even the most boring clothes look good.
“Maybe I should just give up,” he muttered to himself with irony, taking one last look at the closet. “The worst part is I don’t even know if someone’s doing this on purpose, or if I’m just being paranoid.”
But he quickly dismissed the second option. There was no way he was the one doing this. He wasn’t that out of his mind to steal his own sweatshirts and forget about it.
His phone buzzed on the table, interrupting his thoughts. It was a message from Gavi, one of his best friends. He grabbed his phone to read it and laughed quietly when he saw it.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll never pick you up again, got it?”
With a resigned sigh, feeling the annoying itch of the fabric, he grabbed his keys and shoved them in his pocket. He stopped for a moment, taking one last look at his closet.
“Whoever you are, I’m going to find you, and you’re going to pay for this, sweatshirt thief,” he muttered under his breath, as if someone could hear him.
And with those words hanging in the air, he closed the door to his room.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
—So... you're telling me you've been opening your closet for days, and every time you find fewer sweatshirts? —Gavi repeated, trying to process what Lamine had just said.
—Yeah, exactly! And I’m seriously freaking out because I have no idea who's taking them! —Lamine exclaimed, running his hands over his face in frustration.
Gavi looked at him for a moment, his face a mix of sympathy and amusement. Finally, he placed a hand on Lamine’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.
—Lamine... have you thought about...? —he started seriously. Lamine quickly looked up, hoping for a solution—. Maybe seeing a shrink or something?
And in that instant, Gavi burst out laughing.
Lamine stared at him in disbelief.
—You don’t believe me?! —he yelled, offended. His voice was so loud that Gavi, still laughing, had to gesture for him to lower it.
—How am I supposed to believe you, huh? —he managed to say through his laughter, his face turning red from lack of air—. Come on, Lamine, stop messing with me. Who would break into your house just to steal sweatshirts? Are you hearing yourself?
Lamine crossed his arms, glaring at him while Gavi kept laughing without mercy.
They kept walking through the locker room, with Gavi teasing him whenever he could and Lamine complaining, annoyed that his friend wasn’t taking him seriously.
But Gavi’s reaction made Lamine question his entire theory.
Maybe he was losing his mind.
Or maybe... someone really was stealing his sweatshirts, and he just hadn’t figured out who yet.
—Anyway, Lamine, don’t stress it. We can go buy new sweatshirts later if you want —Gavi said, his voice softer.
Lamine, looking like a lost puppy, nodded with a sigh and walked over to his locker to drop off his bag. He opened it, groaning, and pulled out the Barça training shirt. He quickly took off the black sweatshirt and tossed it aside, wrinkling it carelessly.
He looked at his reflection in the small mirror on the inside of his locker and ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. He really needed a haircut.
He grabbed his uniform and put it on quickly, changing the shirt and putting on his socks before unlacing his sneakers to replace them with his training boots. As he tightened the laces, he felt a slight irritation on his neck. Frowning, he realized the scent patch was losing its effect.
He stood up and pulled a small box from the locker, taking out a fresh scent patch. He peeled off the old one with a grimace — it was sticky and barely smelled anymore — and tossed it into the trash. Then, he carefully applied the new one in the same spot.
The fresh, woody scent filled the air, and he closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the calming effect it had on him.
—You gonna keep sniffing yourself or are we heading out? —Gavi joked from his locker.
Lamine shot him a look before slamming his locker shut.
—Leave me alone —he muttered, not really mad.
Gavi let out a chuckle and patted him on the back as they both headed to the field.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
They started with the usual warm-up exercises to loosen up their muscles, following the physical trainer’s instructions. Lamine rolled his shoulders back, feeling his muscles wake up with each stretch.
The field was full of laughter and casual conversations. Some players joked around while doing joint mobility exercises, and others competed to see who could jump the most without losing balance.
—Lamine, stop slacking off and stretch properly, or you’ll be complaining about sore muscles later —Gavi said, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.
—You worry about yourself, mate —Lamine replied with a half-smile, but then bent down to touch his toes with more focus.
After the dynamic stretches, they moved on to lateral movements and short sprints. Slowly, the intensity increased. Lamine could feel the blood pumping through his legs, getting him ready for the session ahead.
When they finally sat down on the grass to drink water, Lamine tilted his head back, enjoying the fresh air. That’s when he caught a conversation between Fermín and Balde that made him sit up straight.
—Hey, hey Fermín.
—What’s up? —Fermín, who had been lying on the grass, sat up and leaned in to hear what Balde was about to say.
—Do you know the real reason Cubarsí’s been missing training? —Balde whispered, trying to keep it quiet. But Lamine had great hearing and couldn’t help but listen in.
—Yeah, right? He’s sick or something —Fermín replied, sounding indifferent.
Balde shook his head.
—No way —he muttered. Lamine couldn’t see their faces from where he was, but he could easily picture Fermín’s expression, curious and tense. —He’s presented himself.
Lamine felt a chill run down his spine.
—What? Did you just say what I think you said? —Fermín sounded as shocked as Lamine felt.
—Yeah, yeah, I’m not sure it’s 100% true, but... I overheard the coaching staff talking on the way to the locker room.
Lamine froze, the water bottle still halfway to his mouth. His mind raced with questions. And his heart... It was beating fast.
—He’s presented himself? Where? How? Why hasn’t anyone told us?
For the first time that morning, the sweatshirt mystery completely left his mind.
—I don’t know, I just found out —Balde muttered, lying back down on the grass with his arms behind his head. Fermín, however, was still stunned, frowning and clenching his jaw.
—But... isn’t it really rare for someone to present themselves at this age? —Lamine said, more to himself than to them. The uncertainty gnawed at him.
Balde and Fermín turned to look at him at the same time.
—Did you hear everything? —Balde asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lamine didn’t even look at him. He just stared at the sky, his mind stuck on Cubarsí.
—Yeah, it’s pretty rare for someone over seventeen to present themselves. We all thought Cubarsí was a beta —Fermín added thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
—Are you sure you heard right, Balde? —Lamine frowned.
Fermín nodded, agreeing.
—I heard it loud and clear, but I didn’t say anything for sure, so it might not be true —Balde defended himself, raising his hands in innocence.
Before they could continue, the loud voice of Hansi Flick called them back to the training.
Lamine sighed and reluctantly got up, his mind still spinning.
The rest of the training went by without much thought. Not because he was coming up with a plan to catch the sweatshirt thief—though that was still an open case—but because his mind wouldn’t stop drifting to Pau Cubarsí.
What if he really had presented himself? What if he was an alpha?
Lamine knew what an alpha’s first heat was like. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, but not intense enough to make him overly worried. Still, the idea of Cubarsí being an alpha didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t sure why.
Or maybe he was, but just didn’t want to admit it.
On the other hand, if Cubarsí was omega...
Lamine’s stomach twisted at the thought. Not out of disgust, but... out of compassion.
Omega's heat was much more painful than alpha's heat, and if it was the first... he must be suffering. Especially if he didn’t have an alpha by his side.
Lamine grimaced at the image of Pau writhing alone in his bed, feverish, his body trembling with need, and no one there to help him.
"Maybe we could help him," his alpha’s voice said, leaving Lamine confused, almost tripping over his own feet.
A whistle snapped him out of his thoughts.
—Are you in the clouds or what?! —Raphinha yelled.
Lamine blinked just in time to see the ball fly past him.
Damn.
For now, he had to focus on training. Later, he’d worry about Cubarsí.
But one thing was clear: he was going to find out the truth.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
—Man, you totally spaced out during training. You should’ve seen Hansi’s face, he looked like he was about to blow up. His face was as red as a tomato, I honestly thought he was going to start cursing you out in every German insult he knows —Gavi said, walking beside him with a teasing grin—. I would’ve loved to see that, to be honest.
Lamine didn’t react right away. His steps were steady, his eyes focused ahead, as though he wasn’t even listening.
—Gavi —he suddenly muttered, without turning.
Gavi raised an eyebrow, confused.
—What?
—Shut up.
Gavi froze, shocked. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his face twisting into an exaggerated scowl, like he was about to throw a tantrum.
—Excuse me? —he said, hand over his chest, pretending to be offended—. If you tell me to shut up again, I won’t take you to the mall, Lamine Yamal Nasraoui Ebana.
Lamine didn’t even look at him.
—Forget it, I’ve got more important things to do —he said distractedly, already starting to run off without offering any explanation.
—Hey, Lamine, come back, it was a joke!
But Lamine didn’t slow down. He didn’t even hesitate.
His legs were moving with a sense of urgency that he didn’t fully understand. His mind was consumed with a single image: Pau Cubarsí, face buried in his blankets, shivering from fever, lips slightly parted, his brow furrowed in pain.
The thought made his heart race.
It didn’t matter whether what Balde had heard was true or not. It didn’t matter if Cubarsí had really presented himself, or if it was all a misunderstanding.
If there was even the slightest chance that Pau was suffering, Lamine wasn’t going to just stand by and do nothing.
"Pau Cubarsí Paredes, your alpha is on his way."
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Lamine had always been impulsive. Thinking before acting just wasn’t in his nature. If he had an idea, he went for it without a second thought, no matter how crazy or risky it was.
“Live life to the fullest,” he’d said once when he was ten, sitting on a hospital bed with a cast on his arm and a busted lip, defending his brilliant idea of jumping off a moving swing.
Who else but him would come up with such a dumb idea?
After a tough training session, with his legs still shaking from the effort, he decided to run like a maniac to his friend's house, as if the long walk wasn’t enough to make him rethink it halfway. Now, with his lungs burning and his body screaming in protest, he wanted to travel back in time and slap himself for turning down Gavi’s offer to drive him.
But, well, that wasn’t the point.
When he finally reached the house, Lamine pulled out the key Pau had given him months ago. He held it in his hand, feeling a weird sense of pride. He was the only one with direct access to Cubarsí’s place.
The others had to dig around for the spare key under the flowerpot by the door.
But he? He had the VIP pass.
A small smile played on his lips as he remembered that little detail. Without wasting any time, he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open...
And then he felt it.
A rich scent hit him, making him stop in his tracks.
Caramelized strawberry.
Sweet, but not overwhelming. Warm, inviting, almost comforting. Something inside him stirred. His wolf was alert.
And then it clicked.
Sweet scent. Omega. Pau.
Before he could process it, he was already racing up the stairs, his heart pounding. He reached Pau’s room in no time, and without hesitation, he threw the door open.
And nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
His mouth parted, and his eyes grew wide, almost as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.
Cubarsí was lying on the bed, face down, tangled in a mess of blankets and cushions. His body sank into the mattress, breathing heavy, his skin glistening with sweat.
But that wasn’t what made Lamine's world tilt.
No.
What left him breathless was what surrounded him.
A nest. But not just any nest.
A nest made out of all his missing sweatshirts.
And suddenly, everything started to make sense.
The missing sweatshirts.
The clues he hadn’t seen.
Of course.
Because no one in their right mind would steal someone else’s sweatshirts unless... unless an omega in heat needed their alpha's scent.
Lamine swallowed hard.
His wolf let out a low, satisfied growl in the back of his mind.
Cubarsí had made his nest with his scent.
“Cucu?” Lamine whispered, stunned.
From the bed, the omega stirred slightly, turning slowly. His gaze, still blurry from exhaustion and the feverish heat, met Lamine’s.
“Lamine?” His voice came out as a tremor, rough from the effort, but still sweet, like honey in Lamine’s ears.
The alpha’s chest tightened. There was something about Pau’s vulnerability that made him shiver. Without hesitation, he moved closer and sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes roaming Pau's flushed face, tears and sweat mixing on his forehead.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice came out softer than he expected. “Why didn’t you tell me you presented?”
Pau lowered his gaze and bit his bottom lip, his fingers nervously playing with the sheets.
“I was scared, alpha...” he whispered, holding back a sob, and Lamine’s brain short-circuited at the word.
A shiver ran down his spine. Hearing Pau call him that, in such a broken voice, with that sweet scent wrapping around him, stirred something primal inside.
“I just started feeling so hot... so... aroused...” Pau continued, his eyes shining with insecurity. “I didn’t know how to handle it. It was a shock for me... And I was afraid you’d reject me for being an omega.”
Lamine blinked, taken aback.
Reject him?
His wolf let out a low, distressed growl. Seeing Pau so sad broke his heart.
Without thinking, he leaned in and began placing soft kisses all over Pau's face. On his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose—gentle, as if the intensity of his heartbeat were a stark contrast to his touch.
Pau stayed still at first, but slowly, his body relaxed under Lamine’s touch.
“Alpha...?” Pau whispered, hiccupping, his eyes still full of tears. “Are you mad at me for hiding my presentation?”
Lamine chuckled softly and pulled him into his chest, wrapping his arms around him.
“No, baby,” he whispered gently, running his fingers through Pau’s hair. “I would never be mad at you.”
Pau trembled in his embrace, his little face nestled against Lamine’s neck.
When Lamine pulled back slightly to see him better, he lost his breath.
Pau’s cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted and wet, and his eyes—green and shimmering with a mix of innocence and desire—were the most beautiful thing Lamine had ever seen.
He had to look away quickly, before he lost all control.
Suddenly, he stood up, intending to head to the kitchen.
But as he took a step, he felt a tug on his sweatshirt sleeve.
“Alpha?” Pau’s voice was pleading.
Lamine turned around and gave him a reassuring smile.
“I’m just going to get some water, okay? You must be dehydrated.”
But then the omega screamed.
“No!”
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His hands shook as they gripped Lamine’s sweatshirt tighter. His eyes filled with tears again, no...
“Alpha... don’t you want me?”
Lamine went pale.
Panic hit him like a punch to the gut.
“No!” He denied quickly, desperate. “Alpha loves you, don’t cry!”
Pau sobbed and buried his face into Lamine’s neck.
“Then... if alpha loves omega... he would sleep with him in his nest...” Pau murmured with a pout, his voice trembling.
God.
How could he say no when Pau looked at him like that?
With no other choice, Lamine climbed into the nest.
It was too small for two guys both over six feet tall, but that didn’t seem to matter to Pau, who immediately curled up against him, pressing his hot body to his own and resting his head on his chest.
Lamine kept his hands at his sides, controlling his breathing.
He had to respect him.
He had to stay calm.
But it was hard.
Because his wolf was growling inside him, claiming his omega.
Because Pau’s scent was wrapping around him like a drug.
Because his fingers were trembling, aching to run through his hair and kiss him until they were both breathless.
“Alpha...” Pau whispered.
Lamine swallowed hard.
“Yes?”
“Look at me.”
He closed his eyes, praying for patience. He knew if he looked at Pau, he’d lose all control.
But he couldn’t deny Pau anything.
So he obeyed.
And it was his downfall.
Pau’s eyes stared up at him, wide, green, innocent, and shining. Trusting. Tender. A little sleepy, but so damn beautiful that Lamine felt like his heart was going to explode.
He wanted to kiss him.
He wanted to make him his.
But he didn’t.
Because he wasn’t selfish enough to put his own desires above Pau’s.
And if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he wouldn’t do anything until his omega was fully aware and ready.
So, ignoring the protests of his wolf, he closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.
And that’s how they spent the day and night. Curled up in the little nest.
The alpha holding back his desire, praying he wouldn’t mess things up.
And the omega feeling safe and loved in his arms.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Cubarsí woke up to the sunlight streaming through the curtains. With a sleepy groan, he reached out for his phone on the nightstand to check the time, only to feel an uneven breath close to his ear.
Wait... this wasn’t his pillow.
He quickly opened his eyes, shaking off the last bit of drowsiness. He tried to sit up, but before he could, strong hands wrapped around his waist, pushing him back down.
“Stay still, we don’t have to go to training today,” murmured a deep, groggy voice, pressing him even closer to a chest.
“Lamine?” Pau asked, his voice still dazed, though he already knew the answer.
“Lamine? I’m not your ‘alpha’ anymore, huh?” Lamine replied teasingly, sliding his hands slowly down Pau’s waist, giving his butt a playful squeeze. Pau swatted him on the arm.
Suddenly, all the memories from the day before hit Pau like a tidal wave.
His face turned bright red.
“Oh, God!” he yelped, starting to squirm.
“What’s wrong now, omega? You’re that embarrassed to call me your alpha?” Lamine grinned, enjoying teasing Pau and watching his obvious embarrassment.
“Shut up, Lamine!” Pau shouted, covering his ears with his hands. “Don’t push it, or I’m really gonna get mad.”
Lamine chuckled lowly and pulled him in even tighter.
“Shouldn’t I be the one mad? You stole all my sweatshirts and made me think I was losing my mind,” he said with mock outrage.
Pau raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look.
“That wasn’t my idea, and I didn’t go to your place to steal your sweatshirts.”
“Oh, really? Then how do you explain this?” Lamine pointed to the sweatshirts scattered all around the nest where Pau was tangled up.
Pau fell silent for a moment, frowning as he tried to piece together what had happened during his recent heat. After a few seconds, he reached for his phone, but Lamine tightened his hold around his waist to make sure he didn’t fall.
Pau unlocked his phone and began scrolling through his messages, frowning. Lamine, curious, leaned over his shoulder to peek at the screen.
And that’s when he saw it.
The culprit.
The damn guy who’d been lurking around his house, stealing his sweatshirts and stocking Pau’s nest.
“Give me your phone, baby,” Lamine said, a grin spreading across his face that promised trouble.
Before Pau could protest, Lamine snatched the phone from his hands and pressed play on the voice note in the traitor's chat.
“Pablo Páez Gavira, you’re a dead man.”