Work Text:
It hits him like a tidal wave.
Wild, relentless, all-encompassing, leaving no room to breathe.
The consistent rhythm of Ojiro’s firm gait quiets down. He stopped. Something blinds Kazuki, blurring Ojiro’s face.
“Kazu—” Ojiro pauses. He frowns, Kazuki thinks. “—ki…?”
He knows. Ojiro’s asking about his well-being. Concerned for his well-being. Hands pat down his tattered cloak, uncertain of what to do with them.
Kazuki smiles. He reaches for Ojiro’s wrist.
“Your scent,” he whispers. A sharp inhale follows. His voice threatens to betray him. He doesn’t even notice the tremor wracking his hand, but Ojiro does. A larger hand encompasses his. Warm, comforting. He waits for Kazuki to continue.
Kazuki tries to gather his thoughts.
Lips part. Another inhale. Bergamot mixed with lemon, ozone, middle tones of sandalwood, geranium, and white musk mixed with just the faintest whiffs of musk, amber, and snowdrop wrap around him like a comforting blanket of familiarity.
Familiarity that he’d lost for years.
Somewhere along the way, Ojiro’s scent had turned oppressive. Suffocating. Kazuki remembers well how he lay there, defeated, bones in his arm crushed under Ojiro’s foot, that once-comforting smell of the Alpha had turned on its heel and punched Kazuki in the gut, screaming at him to get out.
A strangled sob catches in Kazuki’s throat. His grasp on Ojiro’s wrist tightens. Ojiro takes a step closer. There’s hardly any distance between them left.
He cranes his neck.
Kazuki’s breath stalls.
An invitation.
“Ojiro…”
“…Yours, too,” Ojiro says, catching Kazuki entirely off-guard. His laugh comes out with a strange hiccup.
“Mine? The moment we got there, they suppressed me. You can’t honestly expect me to believe you remember it?” A plea. He wants an affirmative.
But there, they wouldn’t be weighed down by an Omega. An Omega would not make a good fit for a king. Thusly, given his chances at success, Kazuki’s nature had to be pushed down. Forced away under a dizzying amount of suppressants.
Not that they needed it in the end.
Ojiro inhales through his nose, out through his mouth. Tight lips twitch up in the approximation of a smile. “Overwhelming tobacco plants.” Another inhale. “But there’s something floral. Jasmine.”
“Unappealing,” Kazuki sighs.
Ojiro shakes his head. “No. Comforting. Uniquely you, Kazuki. I…” A long pause. “I wanted to smell it again.”
Kazuki’s breath hitches. He closes the distance between them, burying his face in the crook of Ojiro’s neck.
It hits him.
No, it would be more accurate to say it punches him in the gut, tearing through the walls he’s built up over the years to convince himself that as long as he’s free, he’d be fine.
It starts quietly. A tremble of the shoulders. A noise that’s hardly audible, but unmistakably a sob.
“Kazuki…” Ojiro struggles to continue. Kazuki imagines him to be going through something similar. His entire worldview, toppled once before, and again, now, bringing them back together.
To show emotion is to be weak, and Ojiro Otori believed in the right of the strong.
…But now, he isn’t an Otori anymore.
He’s just Ojiro.
His Ojiro. His childhood friend, his partner, his purpose.
Kazuki wraps his arms around Ojiro. Slowly, Ojiro’s envelop him in turn.
Warm. He’s so warm. The block of ice built around Kazuki’s heart melts at the mix of touch and smell, and he barely even registers that he’s crying, tears staining Ojiro’s clothes, soaking through, but all Ojiro does is hold him closer, and for what he realizes is the first time in his life—
—Kazuki feels safe.
“I missed you,” he sobs, yet manages even sentences, even as he presses himself closer, as though Ojiro would vanish all over again if he let go.
He doesn’t see the sorrow on Ojiro’s face. “…There isn’t anything left of the person you miss,” he says, morose, but Kazuki doesn’t let him wallow in his guilt, his grief.
He forces himself away from Ojiro’s neck, laughing softly. “Haha. I must look a mess, don’t I?” He slides his hand up, cupping Ojiro’s cheek. He shakes his head. “There is,” he assures him, “And if you can’t find him… we’ll look for him, together.”
Ojiro furiously blinks away tears welling up in his eyes. Kazuki chuckles. “Hey, none of that. Look, mine are all over my face! Are you going to let me embarrass myself all on my own?”
Ojiro huffs. Soft, yet amused. “You really haven’t changed. Kazuki."
Kazuki tenderly rubs his thumb under one of Ojiro's eyes. "Of course I haven't. Who else would come to save you?"
Ojiro smiles. Kazuki's heart skips a beat. The dullness of those eyes fades a little with that tiny spark of happiness; a spark they'll cultivate together.
Moving one hand from Kazuki's back to his face, Ojiro mimics his movement, wiping away the remnants of Kazuki's tears. "Okay," he whispers. "Then... if you'll be by my side... we'll find him. Together."
Kazuki presses their foreheads together. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises, "Even if they try to separate us. I'll always come back for you, Ojiro."
A strange noise leaves Ojiro's quivering lips. Kazuki pulls him in for another hug, staring up at the clear skies as he lets the man in his arms cry, face now nestled in Kazuki's neck, sharply inhaling his scent.
Kazuki smiles.
Yes. They'll find him. They'll find Ojiro. Together. No matter how long it takes.
"We'll find out who you want to be," he says, "Together."
Ojiro just nods, clearly not trusting his voice.
Kazuki laughs softly.
"You always were the crybaby out of the two of us..."
Even if the city around them is falling apart, some things never change.
And one constant, Kazuki is certain, is that his feelings towards Ojiro only continue to evolve and grow, never to wither away.
"...We'll be on the same tribe, this time."
Ojiro gives pause. He doesn't lift his head but Kazuki waits for him to speak. "Even I'm just your sub... that's fine by me."