Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“allllright, Mei-chan…” Bachira drawls as he smoothens his son’s wavy hair, gathering him into his arms and smiling brightly to his face. “are you ready to see daddy?”

Koumei chirps with that adorable baby voice of his, clapping his small hands with that genetic excitement he’s inherited from Bachira.

“Daddy!!” He repeats, and his happiness about seeing Isagi almost makes Bachira forget about his own annoyance with the alpha. He remembers just in time to school his face back to neutral before opening the door, said alpha standing tall behind it.

He lights up just in time with Koumei, two (practically identical) pair of blue eyes widening in joy at the sight of each other. A wide smile plasters all over Isagi’s face just as his son launches forward in Bachira’s hold, impatient to jump in his dad’s arms.

“Woah… Kou-kun!” he’s quick to take the toddler from Bachira, laughing charmingly at his boy’s jumpy movements—clinging to Isagi and biting his face and kicking his little legs, like he just can’t help but pour out all his emotions in loud and bright waves like the little sun that he is. They won’t fit in that small body of his, after all. He inherited that too from Bachira.

Bachira barely holds back the fond smile and soft look that’s seeping onto his face at Koumei’s repeated chants of “Daddy! Daddy!” and Isagi’s affectionate caresses as he immediately starts scenting his little pup. He leans on the door frame, waiting until the father and son’s reunion is over. As pissed as he is with Isagi, the alpha still deserves this after weeks of not seeing their child. Plus, Koumei also misses him more these days. He’s at that age, Bachira assumes, when he’s starting to understand feelings like attachment and missing.

Isagi finally acknowledges his presence after Koumei settles down on his shoulders, having climbed up the alpha’s masculine body like a tree, scoffing to clear out his throat before saying hi.

“You’re late…” Bachira groans, not even answering Isagi’s greeting.

“yeah, sorry… lost track of—” he excuses while scratching his chin awkwardly, and he looks ridiculous with Koumei swinging his legs on his chest and pulling harshly on his hair.

Bachira waves him off, stepping out of the house and making way for Isagi to enter. Really, Isagi is so lucky Koumei is melting Bachira’s heart enough for him to let his father slide off the hook so easily!

“Rucchi is asleep now, but don’t forget to take her on her afternoon walk.” He instructs while tying up the laces of his sneakers, Isagi’s scent filling up his nostrils after the single step he took forward. This will definitely last... “I already put Mei-chan in his outdoor clothes, so be careful not to dirty them until you go out. make sure he pees before you go. and…”

He gets up suddenly, searching Isagi (who flinches in surprise) and Koumei’s face before humming. “that’s it, I guess. You know the rest better.”

“uhh- yeah. Thanks…” Isagi mumbles awkwardly, eyes simmering between Bachira’s.

“well then…” the omega exclaims after a few long seconds, reaching up on his tip-toes to kiss his son and instinctively rubbing his wrists against the toddler’s. “I’m off… be a good boy, Mei-chan, okay?”

“Good boy! aboooff-” Koumei mocks, laughing at his own sound as his spit splatters everywhere. Bachira shakes his head adoringly before hitting the elevator button.

A rough hand wraps around his wrist before he can get in.

He blinks confusedly, turning back to Isagi with question in his eyes. Isagi scoffs again, subtly pulling the omega closer and tightening his grip around the delicate wrist.

“where are you—” he starts, eating up the rest of his sentence at Bachira’s raised eyebrows. They don’t ask each other questions. At least, not ones unrelated to Koumei.

(And they don’t scent each other, but Isagi’s thick scent is wrapping tightly around Bachira’s senses, clinging to his wrist and making his head go dizzy…)

“—um, I mean when will you be back?”

“Same time as usual.” Bachira answers flatly, but his own warm scent is rising from under the alpha’s touch, marking him in his own furtive way.

“oh. Okay.” He lets go slowly, almost reluctantly, and Bachira steps into the elevator in the same manner.

Isagi and Koumei’s big almond eyes remain on him until the elevator door closes, the smaller waving at him with a smiley face (one that looks ridiculously boyish and charming like his father’s) that Bachira mirrors, and it’s only when those deep blues are finally out of his sight that Bachira let go of the breath he was holding.

……

Summer is Bachira’s favorite season. Has been, for as long as he remembers. It’s pleasantly hot and sunny, and it’s the season of games and fireworks and holidays. Just the sound of summer calls for fun. It rings like kids’ laughter, tastes like melted ice cream and smells like the beach. Plus, it’s the season Bachira was born in. Now, Koumei too.

Bachira finds that he’s been looking forward to his son’s birthday more than his own lately, and he likes summer’s hotness because it doesn’t get Koumei sick, and not because it lets him wear shorter shorts and hit the pool at a heart’s whim. Bachira thinks about it as he kicks the ball on his toes, trapping it with his chest and then hitting it up again with his knee.

It’s been so long since he’s gotten to dribble his way around the neighborhood streets this freely. So long since he took his time, leisurely drinking with his friends without worrying about rushing home to his waiting kid. So long since he had any time to ponder on things in that silly, nonsensical way of his that’s both deep and ridiculous, that runs on the engine of feelings but works as a solid problem-solving mechanism for him anyway.

He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with summer, and smiling stupidly to himself as he savors the moment, like he used to do, when he was younger.

Which isn’t that long ago.

It actually isn’t any time ago. Bachira is still young. Only turned 27 last month. But it feels like he’s been rushed through a few years of his life, (three, to be exact) suddenly loaded with responsibilities and hardships of managing a life for not one but two people, while maintaining a professional alpha-dominated carrier, and working through whatever strange aversion of a relationship he has with Isagi. Feels like he’s been tossed around by life, full force, until he loses himself. but oh.

Here is Bachira, strange and wild and unhinged, dancing with his monster while dribbling past wide-eyed strangers, not even wiping his tears as he laughs through his cries.

It fills him with as much happiness as it does with melancholy. He loves Koumei beyond any words can describe, and he’s long forgotten about the time he wished this never happened to him. If he could go back in time and make a conscious decision of having him this time, he’d do it all over again. but he’s also usually hit by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia whenever he gets to be free like this, letting tears run down his cheeks because as blessed as he is, he has lost many things on the way.

He wonders if he’s fallen behind others, or ahead of himself.

Who knows how long he’d have stayed the childish, carefree and sloppy boy that he was if it wasn’t for Koumei and everything that came with him? Sometimes he looks at his past self’s fantasies and wonders if he’d aged too fast. but then he looks around himself and see everyone figuring their lives out—slowing down on climbing the ladder of whatever profession they’re pursuing, finding love, starting a family and settling down, seeking satisfaction—without swirling back on all the things they fucked up, or paths they went wrong, and wonders if he’s all but a fake façade; successful and mated and blessed with a healthy kid, but still wanting more. still greedy. still honing his ego, wanting to fight, and push and Run, like he hasn’t grown at all since that first day he stepped onto Blue Lock, or maybe even before that, when he first touched a soccer ball.

He’s beyond sweaty once he reaches home, looking at his messy figure in the elevator mirror and chuckling. He looks worse than when he wrestles with Koumei for hours. Something warms up his entire chest at the thought of his son; his beautiful smile and his tiny hands that will surely reach for Bachira upon his entrance, holding onto his neck and pressing as tightly as he can…

He already can’t wait to get home.

“MOMYY!” comes Koumei’s excited cheer, the little boy running sloppily towards him the moment Bachira opens the door. Thanks to his sharp ears, he usually notices Bachira’s presence as soon as he takes out his keys, already starting for the door before Bachira even enters.

“MEI-CHAN!!” he answers back with as much energy, spinning him in the air, smiling brightly from ear to ear at his son’s laughter.

Right after him comes Mamoru, running around Bachira with her tail wagging and her tongue out. Bachira pats her head before instinctively sniffing the air, his mouth watering at the smell of something delicious and warm.

“hey.” Isagi greets softly, standing by the kitchen counter with an apron on. “welcome back.”

Bachira turns to him after squeezing the life out of his baby, kissing his cheeks and nuzzling his hair and scenting his neck, feeling kind of domestic about the sight in front of him.

Isagi’s wearing a half-smile, like he’s not sure how familiar he can act with Bachira, spatula still in hand, the yellow light of kitchen mellowing out his sharp alpha features and reducing him to a loving household husband. (and the pink apron doesn’t help either.)

“hey.” Bachira finds himself answering, just as softly, the content expression Koumei brought upon his face remaining even as he walks towards Isagi.

“Daddy made Humbergs!” the little alpha exclaims excitedly, still getting carried in Bachira’s arms.

“ah- sorry, didn’t mean to use your kitchen without permission, Kou said he was hungry and I—” Isagi rushes to explain, like he hasn’t cooked in Bachira’s house before.

(well, he might have. when it was just the two of them, only never for Koumei.)

“oh! So your favorite!” Bachira chirps to Koumei, ending Isagi’s stuttering with an easy smile. “did you say thank you?”

“Thank youuuuuu!!” the kid drawls while bending back in Bachira’s arms, treating his parents as playing tools like usual. Isagi catches him with a smile before he falls, kissing his forehead before muttering a ‘you’re welcome’.

His eyes then find Bachira’s, their scent mingling with how close they’re standing to each other. Almost touching, if not for Koumei in between.

A pause, deliberate and cautious. “I’ve made enough for all of us. Go change, I’ll set the table.”

Huh.

So he invited himself over for the night.

Well, not that Bachira minds it enough to confront him about it. doesn’t have the energy anyway, and he’s a bit thankful for the warm meal after such a long day to kick Isagi out without letting him get a taste himself. it wouldn’t look good in Koumei’s eyes either. he’s starting to pay more attention to his surroundings—and to Bachira and Isagi’s relationship especially. (he even asked the other day why they weren’t all living together for the first time. Not that Bachira wasn’t ready for him to ask the inevitable one day, but he was still caught off when it happened so soon, feeling awful for lying to those innocently curious eyes.)

The dinner goes by as uneventfully as one expects, Isagi taking upon the duty of feeding Koumei (who’s the only reason this entire setting isn’t as awkward as it should be) and then brushing his teeth for him.  The pup gets sleepy after eating almost immediately, a habit he had since he was younger, so Bachira safely tucks him in, kissing his head once he dozes off in the middle of listening to his bed-time story.

They almost look like a normal family. And a healthy, loving one at that.

But Bachira knows better.

A heavy silence falls between them the moment Koumei is out, both of them standing still in the living room with nothing to talk about.

“…do you need me to call you a cab?” He asks, not unkindly, but certainly not looking anywhere near the direction of the alpha either.

“ah- no. my hotel is within walking distance.”

“hm. Okay.”

“hey, Meg—” Isagi reaches out before Bachira can walk away to busy himself with cleaning, the omega stopping with a surprised jolt.

This is the second time! Bachira could swear Isagi deliberately chose to hold his wrist when there was a whole ass limb for him to grab onto!

(Wrist; where it’s the easiest to scent someone or be scented by them…)

“Yoichi?”

“Yeah,…” he breathes, softly, pulling Bachira closer until they’re standing face to face. “I– I’m sorry if I’m prying too much but… your eyes… I noticed they were red when you came back. did you– cry?”

Something wells up inside Bachira. a balloon, maybe, swelling with an unwanted amount of emotions that threaten to suffocate him, so warm and twirling and blue. Deep blue, like the night, quiet and never-ending, staring down at him with small tweaking stars somewhere far within it, genuine in all its confidentiality and safe in it’s dark and veiling heart.

He feels his eyes tinge with more tears, even though he was sure he dried up his tear sacks with how much he bawled earlier.

Isagi’s brows furrow immediately, the worry in his eyes blowing more air into the balloon that’s already on the verge of bursting. He touches Bachira’s cheek with his free hand, unbearably tender and cautious, like he’d hurt Bachira if he so much as brushed his skin with the tip of his nail.

“oh no, sorry-! I’m so sorry! please don’t cry? We can talk about it if you want—?”

Bachira sniffs, chest tight and lips quivering from the effort to not fall apart.  He shakes his head, holding onto the palm against his cheek with both hands and burying his face into it as tears start quietly running down his face. he wants Isagi close, but this is probably as close as they’ll get nowadays. It makes him tear up even more, clinging to the alpha’s hand tightly.

This is brutal. Isagi standing here, right in front of him, sweet and oblivious and a bit panicking, not knowing what to do with the mess that’s Bachira Meguru, when he used to— was supposed to know him the best. As Bachira’s mate. Bachira’s alpha. Bachira’s Partner. Bachira’s Best friend.

As the man that Bachira carried his baby for.

But he doesn’t, shivering alongside Bachira like this is all too much for him as well, holding back from even breathing in fear of doing something wrong when everything he did used to be right, back when he wasn’t the main reason Bachira cried himself to sleep every night. Somehow, that breaks Bachira’s heart worse than the actual reason he cried today.

“hey, hey— Meg?” Isagi coaxes, so genuinely worried it hurts. His scent is as soothing as ever, vanilla clinging onto Bachira’s senses like a soft blanket, coffee spreading around them in anxiety but also protectiveness. It makes him sob. Isagi has always been good at this; keeping his own negative feelings at bay, controlling his scent in a way that’s most comforting for Bachira.

This is so fucking brutal!!

“it’s—” he starts, breaths coming shallow as he unconsciously sticks his nose to the alpha’s wrist, craving more of his grounding pheromones. “it’s nothing. I’m just a little tired…”

Isagi frowns. Harder. “it’s not nothing. You’re crying, Meguru. That’s not nothing!”

Oh sweet, sweet boy... it draws out a low chuckle out of Bachira.

“it really is, Yoichi. You’ve probably forgotten, but I cry all the time. With or without reason.”

Isagi’s face twist in guilt, eyes softening with sadness. They don’t need a reminder of what they used to be, three years ago, with no soccer and publicity and a kid coming in between them—all the things that should’ve made their lives sweeter. the cuts are still fresh, bleeding even. at least for Bachira. No need to twist the knife any deeper.

Isagi moves his hand and Bachira jostles thinking he’s trying to pull away. He doesn’t though, only caressing the wet skin until his thumb finds magnetic yellow eyes, big and round and bright even while raining. His face has naturally gravitated closer too, his breaths giving the omega goosebumps as they directly blow air against his lips.

“that’s—” Isagi starts, stuttering through his words as he searches Bachira’s face helplessly. “…–I’m so sorry. I still don’t know what to do when you do that,” then softer, almost to himself. “I could never get used to you crying…”

Bachira stares into his eyes, and he must look pathetic, desperate, because Isagi almost kisses him. like Bachira would die if he doesn’t.

Their noses bump gently, but they leave it at that. Isagi is not the one crying his eyes out because he suddenly got hit by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, and Bachira is not the one that would initiate these sort of things. so that’s that.

“you don’t need to apologize…” Bachira’s voice quivers, and he shakes his head like that would help clear out the fog in his mind. It’s not Isagi’s duty to comfort him. It’s Not...

…and yet he asks. (because he's always been a helpless fool. always hoping, hoping, hoping...) “are you—are you worried about me?”

He breaks a little on the breath he lets out, and with it cut the tension laying so raw and heavy between them. (They’re only inches apart, needing so little as a tilt of a head and an extending neck, smelling like a mix of honey and vanilla…)

Oh what an awful question to ask someone you’re walking a very, very thin line with, and on the verge of a cliff, at that. Bachira is a fool, letting a few soft whispers and sweet looks get to his head, getting his hopes up when he knows he’s only going to be let down later. but in his defense, Isagi is playing his part better than ever.

Because he shuts his eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath as if inhaling Bachira’s wavering scent, and then looking almost dizzy when he opens his eyes on the exhale, drowning Bachira in that deep deep blue that’s clear of any ill-intention. He grabs Bachira’s head with both hands, like it’s the dearest thing he’s ever hold, and God he sounds so damn soft it almost works as a sedative, or a lullaby.

“of course I am.” His scent grows thicker, and he firmly holds Bachira’s weight when his knees give in, falling on the alpha. “if there’s anything I can help you with, please say it right away, Meguru. please.”

“why?” he murmurs, almost drunkenly, but he shouldn’t. he really shouldn’t.

The alpha frowns, not unkindly, but as a clear sign of assertiveness.

“because– I care about you!” He lets go of Bachira’s face to swing his hands in the air, a little exasperated. “and you’re my mate! Why do I got to need a reason? I want to do things for you.”

Oh. That hit a spot. And a soft one, at that.

Fuck.

He should’ve known better. He gets affected too easily when it comes to Isagi. One more line like that and Bachira might just fall to his knees, kissing the ground under the alpha’s feet.

He detangles himself, barely keeping his balance but still refusing Isagi’s assist, putting as much space between their bodies as his broken will allows. (a single step.)

“thanks.” He sniffs, wiping one last tear rolling down his cheek. “But it’s really nothing… I’m mostly surprised you noticed. you’re still as observant as ever, Yoichi.”

He avoids Isagi’s gaze, has to, his quiet chuckles sounding fake even to his own ear. The boy has melted more than enough of his brain (and heart) for him to risk anything anymore. Isagi could’ve pinned him down and bit him –like that first time he did during his heat to own him– right this instant, and Bachira would’ve said thank you.

“for you, always.” The alpha whispers, and shit, Bachira needs him out of his house before anything stupid happens between them.

He lets the silence linger for a long second, feeling overwhelmed under that protective and caring gaze. Isagi is not a patient guy, but he’s waiting for Bachira to say something so earnestly now that it feels almost cruel to end the moment.

But Bachira might just be able to live with it if he knows it’s just as cruel to himself.

They’ve been clear about their relationship ever since departing in Tokyo—there’s nothing to misunderstand, much less hope for. Bachira was the one who asked for them to mate for safety and convenience, and Isagi only agreed as a form of accepting responsibility (and a bit of pettiness, Bachira isn’t stupid).

Except, it’s never quite felt like that.

Not back when Isagi marked him and let Bachira mark him in return, nor when he traveled countries–continents, to soothe his omega in heat, in rain or snow or boiling temperatures every time without fail. (all those angry, repressed emotions between them be damned.)

Bachira’s not oblivious. He sees Isagi’s lustful looks and possessive hands. He revels in them. feels delighted to the bone whenever he dials the alpha’s number on the 5th of every month, burning from the inside out and panting needily, getting wetter at the thought of hearing Isagi’s voice—coming through the phone breathless and raspy at the edges because he’s always in a hurry to meet Bachira at times like these, but soft and caring at the very core like the sweet boy that he is, and confident and grounding like the alpha that’s inside.

Bachira knows something is there, building slowly (back) up in the way they clash onto each other under the pretense of being sex-drunk, driven by pheromones and not a decade’s worth of feelings—anger and jealousy and loneliness and yearning…

And it’s so cruel to Bachira’s heart that it’s all going to break down again by the smallest of winds. It’s inevitable. To begin with, they’d started building this on a shaky ground, and there was never really a heart-felt commitment. Desire and passion aren’t enough; they’ll add up to the height, but not to the strength. the more they keep at this, the further they’ll fall.

“um, Yoichi, I’m sorry but it’s really late, and we have a match tomorrow…” he bites the corner of his mouth, still avoiding the other’s gaze as he forces the words out.

Isagi jolts back like he was shot, wide eyes blinking rapidly at a guilty-looking Bachira.

“O-Oh right… yeah, sorry. Yeah I’ll–… I’ll get going now...” he stutters while stepping back, rubbing his hands at his side and embarrassedly looking around as if wanting to disappear into thin air. Bachira’s defense breaks a little at the sight.

“sorry. Take care.” Bachira mumbles apologetically after he walks him to the door, still avoiding looking into those oceanic eyes. Isagi pauses at his door for a few seconds again, seeming like he wants to say something.

Bachira hopes he wouldn’t, already barely holding back his body from latching onto Isagi’s and consuming more of his scent. He feels his whole body relax when the alpha complies, like he can read Bachira’s mind, and leaves after mumbling a quiet goodbye.

If Bachira collapses behind the door right after his mate walks out and inhales the lingering scent of him on his shirt with unmatched hunger, then that’s only between him and his breaking heart.

Chapter Text

The stadium smells like grass and freshness, the air buzzed with excitement for the upcoming game. Bachira takes a deep breath, loving this pre-match clarity when overbearing pheromones aren’t mingling around yet—every person’s alpha or omega laying low but honing their fangs and claws, impatient to hunt. The calm before the storm. 

Bachira stands at the center, watching as the other team’s members take their places. He tries to view everyone as mere players, opponents to crush, but his eyes linger on number 11 written boldly on the back of the main striker of Lockers, and then —when he turns around after throwing some commands at his team— on intense, murderous eyes. Bachira’s exhale comes out a little shaky.

He’s cracking his fingers out of habit when his own team’s other striker calls out his name, a Cheshire cat’s smirk on his lips.

“now now~ gonna beat daddy’s ass in front of his son, Meg? Ain’t that bad for kiddo’s education?”

“hmm, maybe I should leave that part to you then, Ryu.” He counters with a matching smirk, crossing his arms as he turns to Shidou.

“hahaha I’d be honored.” the blonde taunts, directing that cocky look to Isagi next. “–but as badly as I love to wipe the floor with the face of that sorry excuse of an ex you have,” he turns to Meguru again. “you and I both know he’ll be coming for you.”

Bachira takes another deep breath, concentration reaching its peak as the referee brings up his whistle. Isagi is standing exactly across from him, his predatory eyes honed on Bachira.

“we’ve got this, Meg,” Otoya calls, his presence a reassuring anchor behind Bachira.

Its’ alright. This is all planned. Lockers aren’t the only ones capable of strategizing and showcasing complicated tactics. They have their counter strategy.

Normally, Otoya plays as the right wing, closer to Shidou, but for this game specifically they’ve switched his position to be closer to Bachira, already aware of the Lockers plan to man mark the dribbler so that he’d have the least contact with the ball. Otoya being close will help increase Bachira’s chances of getting past the defenders.

Blue Lock—later on altered to a newly established club once its members entered their 20ths and shook the adult league by storm, playing on par with the best leagues in the world right from the start of the club’s business—is still a team of stars, even after Bachira and many others like him left it. Still, hardly any of the members can stop Bachira in a one on one (or even two on one, or maybe even three) if he’d get his foot on the ball.

Unpredictable playstyle—open to passing but hungry for goals just as much, unmatched dribbling techniques, world-level accuracy in passing and crossing (on par with the best midfielders in the league like Sae and Charles), all in addition to his intuition and instinctual playmaking that can destroy any team’s defense when paired with Shidou’s explosive playstyle. It’s not that big of a surprise the Lockers would focus on him, and no less with their best player, the Isagi Yoichi himself.

The whistle blows and Shidou passes to him, the two of them launching the game with confidence. As excepted, Isagi is quick to get in his way, standing a whole step further from him to minimize any chances of getting dribbled past. Bachira looks around himself. Nobody’s actually boxing him, but everyone is standing in meticulously calculated positions that block all the routes he has for passing, especially to Shidou—who has Sae as his own personal man-marker. Even Otoya who was supposed to be a back-up plan is completely blocked, leaving Bachira with no choice but to risk an impossible pass to Shidou (which will most likely get cleared out by Sae—he has Shidou memorized) or send a defeated one to the back.

He tries closing the gap between him and Isagi, but the other is consistent with his movements, the rest of the team running to fill the gaps according to his play. After a few back and forths, Bachira is 100 percent sure that Isagi plans on stalling him like this until he gets bored and inevitably makes a pass. He probably thinks this will be the last Bachira will get the ball, with a dozen detailed scenarios in his head on how to keep the omega in an invisible cage. Thanks to Barcha’s captain winning the coin toss, these first minutes of the game are the hardest part of Isagi’s plan since Bachira’s gotten to have the ball on default. If he backtracks here, he’s lost a great chance.

So he does the exact opposite.

None of his teammates can see the invisible traps Isagi so masterfully has laid for them, so they’re not moving to stand in any right position to help Bachira even the slightest. They’re yelling for him to pass, but Bachira’s too used to ignoring those sounds to get affected at this rate. He won’t pass. Not to people who won’t rise up to his monster’s standards.

He runs head first into Isagi’s stomach instead.

The striker falters for no more than a second, beckoning over the nearest teammate so they can pinch in Bachira together. Someone shouts at Bachira to stop, and very rightfully so. This is the worst decision he probably could’ve made, so much that even Isagi hadn’t considered the possibility of it.

And that’s exactly why it’s the right choice.

So what if an entire team is standing in front of him, and he almost needs a miracle to get past Isagi and Kunigami pinching him at the same time? His eyes are only locked on the goal.

His body moves on pure instinct, following the visions occurring to him. He dodges Isagi before jumping over Kunigami’s tack, spinning in the air as he lands to keep possession of the ball and immediately dribbles past a third player.

He can hear Isagi’s shouts clearly as he makes his way to the goal, his bold attempts catching everyone so off-guard they barely react to him in time. Their formation breaks for a moment, enough for Shidou to find a leeway, allowing him to do a one-two with Bachira until they’re within shooting distance with no one but Sae and the goalie in front of them.

“Back, back… Shidou is open!” someone shouts.

“NO! Sae, stay on Meguru!” Isagi orders, and he sounds so close that Bachira’s sure he’ll catch up if he wastes a single second.

Shidou runs free to Bachira’s right, no defenders on him. If Bachira passes, he’ll score for certain.

But Bachira was a Blue Locker once, is an egoist still. There’s a high chance he’ll make the shoot himself, and Sae knows that. He grits his teeth, hesitating for a moment to decide who he should mark.

But hesitation is lethal at the level that they’re playing soccer.

Bachira takes the chance for what it is and spins around the midfielder, hitting the ball with his heel and sending it flying into the goal—scoring the first point for Barcha with a beautiful rabona.

There was never a high chance. Actually, there was never a chance at all. It’s always an absolute; Bachira will shoot himself. That’s why he’s called a striker.

The sound of cheers erupt around him, and Bachira goes tumbling down as the weight of Shidou crashes against him.

The entire Bluelock team gawks at him with disbelief, and Sae is so angry he’s turned the same shade of red as his hair. He starts cussing out something under his breath as he marches back to the middle, impatient to kick off again. Isagi tells him something Bachira can’t hear, but there’s determination sparking in his blue eyes. Like he’s already had another plan for when the first one fell apart.

……

Isagi runs to him the moment the match ends, worry replacing the intensity in his eyes. Bachira’s holding onto his shin, stretching his leg up as his physician instructs him to, trying to keep his breaths deep and even through the pain.

“Meguru!” he quickly kneels beside him, holding onto his hand and searching the vice-coach and physicians faces with worry. “is he alright? Is there a crack?”

“sir- please, you need to leave—” some girl orders breathlessly, having ran after Isagi all across the field to stop him, but Bachira’s vice-coach dismisses her.

“it’s alright, he’s our member’s mate. He can stay.”

“—no damage to the muscles, and I don’t think there’s a sprain or dislocation, but we have to take a scan just to be sure.” the physician explains to Isagi, dropping Bachira’s leg and taking out some pain-killers to give him. “it’s probably nothing serious. Might hurt for a while to walk on, but rest it a few days and you’ll be back in shape in no time.”

Bachira lets out a broken sigh, still in too much pain to feel relieved at the confirmation. Isagi visibly relaxes next to him, unconsciously bringing up his mate’s hand to his lips, almost kissing.

“thank God-…”

“Y- Yoichi…” Bachira squeezes the alpha’s hand to get his attention, his voice barely coming out. “Mei-chan… h- he saw me tripping… he must be scared. Go… hng, go get him.”

Isagi’s eyebrows rise in recognition, squeezing Bachira’s hand back and nodding. “okay… okay, I’ll be back in a minute. You’ll be alright, Meguru, Okay? You’ll be alright…”

He repeats like a robot, trying to convince himself more than Bachira. He frowns sourly the moment he lets go of Bachira, his alpha growling at him to stay by his mate’s side and comfort him. Bachira can almost hear it in his own head. The pain gets worse when he leaves, taking his heady scent -that Bachira hadn’t even noticed was spreading around him over his own anxious one- with him.

His tears, having stinged his eyes for a long while now, finally find their ways out as it all gets too much for Bachira. He tries to soothe his hurt omega by thinking of his pup; probably panicked and crying and all alone with his caretaker in the VIP section after seeing his mother falling and moaning and getting carried out of the field on some strangers’ hands… and convinces himself that Isagi should attend to their child first. Bachira will be fine. The doctor himself said so, right? He will be alright…

While Koumei has come to a few of Bachira’s matches before, he still doesn’t understand the concept of it all being a game very well. To him, it might as well appear like Bachira was attacked and injured in a war. Bachira just hopes that this wouldn’t make a big impact on the kid. He doesn’t want the little alpha to hate soccer—the sport Bachira has poured all his life into.

Gonzales, their coach, pats him on the back before helping him get up, a few of their managers holding him up by the pit of his arms to get him out of the field. The rest of the team are still grabbing their stuff, some of them even lying with their heads in their hands on the grass. Bachira glances at the score board, 1 - 4 for Bluelock. It was a disappointing loss, especially for Bachira, who couldn’t even play until the end.

It wasn’t exactly a foul that took him out, but definitely something close to it. Isagi had increased his press on Bachira, pushing him into a corner by practically sticking to him all the time. It was more frustrating than anything. Except that first goal, Bachira was stuck running around doing nothing, and while this plan rendered Isagi useless as well, they still had Barou on their team to score super goals, while Shidou on the other hand had gotten a red card and was fighting with the referees and the staff out of the field somewhere in the back. There was only fifteen minutes left in the second half, and with the score being 2-1 in Bluelock’s favor, Bachira had to break through with force to change the result.

He remembers Isagi’s powerful scent filling up his lungs with every breath, steel underneath bitter coffee, sharp and cold and lethal. His Omega was screaming at him to run, and as much as Bachira would have liked to comply it, his opponent was just too tough.

And too engrossed in soccer to go easy on his own mate. Not that Bachira ever expected him to.

Isagi was already running past him the moment he fell, not even hearing Bachira’s pained groans as his focus was solely on using this chance to from a counter attack. Bachira ended up rolling on the ground, having stumbled over the ball the moment Isagi stole it from under his feet, and landing badly on one leg. He cried, holding onto his foot but the game kept on going, with Isagi and Kurona scoring a third goal using the momentum. Barcha’s medical team rushed to the field as soon as the whistle was blown, but the opposite team was too busy celebrating to even notice. By the time Isagi realized what had happened, Bachira was already subbed out, and the game was resuming. The result was already set; with no Bachira and only 10 players in after Shidou’s ejection, it was actually a pretty impressive defense on Barcha’s side the opponent only scored one more goal.

Bachira lies still on the medical room’s bed, waiting for the pain-killers to kick in. just as he thinks he’s going to fall asleep with tears drying on his cheeks, the sound of footsteps and loud bawling shakes him alert. He jumps in his seat, wincing at the pain, but soon schooling his face to something more neutral as he turns to the door with worried eyes. That was the sound of Koumei, he will recognize those cries anywhere.

The door opens and sure enough, Isagi enters with Koumei in his arms, floundering stubbornly and screaming out for Bachira. He settles for a second once he senses the familiar scent of his mom, turning to him with glassy eyes and trembling lips, before bawling again. The omega almost bursts into tears at the sight of his little pup’s stressed form, instinctively moving to attend to him without any regard for his leg.

Isagi crosses the space between them immediately, safely placing their kid in Bachira’s arms before he can get up, pushing him gently down to lie back on the bed again.

Koumei sticks to Bachira with all his might, his repeated “momy, momy”s breaking the omega’s heart. He hugs the pup just as tightly, slowly humming calming words into his ear and emitting his sweetest pheromones to reassure him even though he’s so overwhelmed himself he could cry just as much.

His own pain and stress just seem to vanish at the sight of his child’s anguish, and Bachira continues soothing his toddler patiently until his cries come to a stop. Koumei refuses to detach from his mom, not even looking at Isagi no matter how hard he tries to coax him to let go—so they’re forced to take him with them when they go to the hospital to get a photo of Bachira’s leg. He cries again upon their entrance to the sterile-smelling rooms, hating the hospital just as much as any other kid, but still clinging to Bachira and refusing to wait outside for even a second.

It’s one hell of a ride until they finally get home.

Isagi is using Bachira’s bathroom after the omega did since none of them got to shower after the game. Koumei fell asleep somewhere along the way, which is a relief since he was being really disagreeable. Bachira lies by his side, letting his warm scent wrap around them and watching his baby relax in response.

“the photos confirmed it was nothing serious,” Isagi speaks, entering Koumei’s room with said photos in hands. “doctor said you’ll be good to practice after three days.”

“make that two. They always exaggerate about these things.” Bachira answers before turning around, now facing the alpha sitting on the bedside chair. “but still, I don’t think they’ll let me play our next practice match. It’s the day after tomorrow, right?”

Isagi visibly deflates. “it’s a shame. It’s not the same without you.”

Bachira smiles, a little smug, knowing Isagi is genuine in all his rivalry. “you sure? Our second combo is just as good as me and Ryu-chan, you know?”

The other raises an eyebrow. “oh? So they won’t be playing Shidou either?”

“don’t act surprised.” Bachira rolls his eyes. “you know there are few people that can play at his level. He can’t form a chemical reaction with normal guys. They’ll get devoured by his ego.”

A smile tugs at Isagi’s mouth, curling up only the corner as he fights it off to call out Bachira on his unintended preening. “right. Only monster boys like you can keep up with demons like him.” He clicks his tongue, faking jealousy as he goes on. “tch… he’s gotten so damn lucky to have you on the same team. He’d have been a bench-warmer forever after Lavinho retired if Barcha didn’t recruit you.”

Bachira feels his face heat up, Isagi’s praise sending fireworks exploding inside. His whole body is sore, aching from the injury, and exhausted from an intense match and then the endless trip to the hospital with a crying pup in his arms. He feels even worse in terms of mentality. but all of that fades as he sinks into this silly banter with Isagi, the two of them still playful and full of adoration for each other (at least, in terms of soccer), like they’re not 26 and literally rivals and definitely not together.

It doesn’t make sense for them to be flirting like this, but Bachira can’t help it. it just feels so good to be praised by Isagi Yoichi.

“take Barcha that lightly and you’ll be crushed, crying all the way back to Tokyo from humiliation,” Bachira’s own lips quirk up, acting modest as his own way of teasing the striker. “Felix and Juan were the golden duo of Spain until last month, you know?”

“Wow! look who’s defending their teammates. I could swear Bachira Meguru didn’t give a shit about his team as long as he could score goals himself!” Isagi mocks, the two of them snickering lowly to not wake their child.

“…will you come to watch the game?” Isagi asks after a small pause, almond eyes expecting and creasing from the lingering smile.

Bachira considers him, out of pity for the boy’s hopefulness, even though his answer is already decided.

“I don’t think so. I’m usually not home, so I want to spend some time with Mei-chan now that I have the chance to. I don’t think he’d like to come to a game any time soon, so I can’t bring him either.”

The mention of their kid casts a gloom on Isagi’s face, looking at the boy’s peaceful features in his sleep, blue bangs splayed out and messy and one thumb in his mouth.

“…I didn’t want the first match he sees of us to turn like this. he was really scared.”

“well, only if a certain someone hadn’t jostled his mom…” Bachira teases again, trying to lighten the mood. Only it seems to have the opposite effect.

“Meguru, I’m sorry, I…”

“don’t apologize!” Bachira quickly cuts in, Isagi’s depressed face drawing words out of his mouth before he knows it. “Mei-chan might still have trouble understanding it, but we know that’s just how soccer is. If I had to apologize for every time I tackled you I’d have to go on forever!”

“no, that’s not it…” he forces his guilty eyes up, his expression shrinking even further like looking at Bachira’s face just make it that much harder to speak. “…accidents happen, I know. That’s—not what I’m apologizing for, though I am upset you hurt your leg, but…”

He huffs, running a hand through his hair. His eyes keep on straying away, but he really seems to want for Bachira to believe him, because he wills his gaze back on him before confessing earnestly. “…afterwards, I should’ve noticed. You were in pain, but I was running ahead, scoring a goal. It was unfair, even if it was someone else.”

Bachira stays still. It seems to add to Isagi’s nervousness. He lets out a deep exhale, like he’s been holding it in for too long, searching Bachira’s unchanging face. “though honestly, I wouldn’t have expected myself to care if it was someone else. But it wasn’t, and I knew I was defending my mate—God, your scent was making my head go dizzy the whole time…—I knew. I should’ve looked back.” he whispers, voice slowly fading. “I should’ve been the first one to run to your side when you cried… I’m sorry.”

Bachira doesn’t know what to say. His mind has gone blank, and he can’t decide on how to feel. so he just says the first thing that comes to his mind, still expressionless. “it’s really not your fault. You were concentrating. You just simply didn’t notice.”

Isagi doesn’t answer, but his upset state remains the same. Bachira runs his eyes over his face, wondering what does all of this even mean. Is it Isagi just being his responsible, caring self like usual? Or is there something more? in the gentle looks, loaded jokes, sweet whispers. Does he even know what he’s doing? Making Bachira’s heart skip 8 beats at once? If so, then he’s a great actor, because none of this looks fake or planned out. Which is awful, if Bachira’s being honest. Anything that brings up Bachira’s hopes is awful.

“ngh… momy?” Koumei’s voice rises, hoarse from hours of crying and sleep, reaching for Bachira immediately. Bachira sits up on the bed, gathering the toddler into his lap.

“mornin’ Mei-chan. though it’s actually night, Nyahah~”

Koumei blinks tiredly, barely even listening. He lays his head on Bachira’s chest, nuzzling against him as he sniffs his scent unconsciously. he’s almost falling back asleep with his mother stroking his hair, when Isagi’s gentle caress on his cheek jostles him awake.

“he seems better…” Isagi whispers, a small smile on his face.

The pup’s eyes fly open, his small fingers clawing tightly at Bachira’s shirt at the sight of the alpha. His parents watch his reaction with confusion, the little alpha’s sleepy eyes going from scared to angry, glaring at Isagi. if he could hiss, or show off his fangs, he probably would’ve.

“No! Daddy go away! Don’t come here!” he yells, hitting the air with one hand, undecided between clinging to Bachira or attacking his father.

“wha-…”

“Mei-chan? are you okay?”

The two blink worriedly, caught off by this sudden outburst. Koumei doesn’t relent.

“No, NO! Daddy Out! Daddy Bad!” his small fists start hitting Bachira, his voice growing louder and louder. “Go Away! Don’t come to our house! Daddy Bad!!”

Isagi pulls back with disbelief coloring him pale, tongue-tied. Bachira tries to hold back his kid.

“calm do- hey, hey… it’s alright, Mei-chan! look here… will you talk to mommy?” he slowly calms the raging toddler, caressing his back and rubbing his wrists against his neck—gestures that have proven to soothe the little alpha countless times. “did daddy do something?”

The pup pouts, lower lip quivering as he holds back the lump in his throat. He holds Bachira’s face between his small palms, eyes shining with tears. “Daddy Bad! Daddy hurt Mommy! I Hate Daddy!”

Bachira’s eyes widen, and Isagi somehow manages to go even paler. They look at each other, both shell-shocked, the toddler still screaming angrily between them.

“I HATE DADDY!!”

Chapter Text

“Helloooo? Kou-kun? I bought you your favorite chocolates! Can I come in?” Isagi coaxes, peeking through the little alpha’s open door to where he’s playing with his toys, completely ignoring his dad.

Isagi tries again. “Kouuuu-kun?? Ru-chan’s going to eat all of it if you don’t get it now!”

The pup frowns. “Rucchi can’t eat choco! She a Dog!”

Isagi pouts, “then I’ll eat it myself.”

Koumei gets up, stomping towards Isagi with a huff. He pushes at the alpha’s leg, trying to shove him out. “I don’t want daddy choco! Go away!”

Isagi’s face fall, suddenly so dejected Bachira wonders if he’s going to cry. He drags his legs until Koumei is satisfied with the distance and goes back into his room, and upon closer look, yeah, there do seem to be tears shining in his eyes. He’s staring into the void with this incredulous look in his eyes, and he looks so miserable that Bachira genuinely feels bad for him.

Isagi has been practically crashing in their house the last three days that his team was staying in town for practice matches, trying to gain back the little alpha’s affection on top of helping Bachira with his daily activities now that he couldn’t walk freely. He only went back to his hotel for sleep, every night more depressed than the last. He wouldn’t give up though, showing up again the next day with a new gift or snack or idea to make Koumei happy.

Contrary to the popular belief that kids forget quickly, none of that made Koumei take pity on his poor dad. If it wasn’t for Bachira’s constant assuring and explanation that Isagi never meant to hurt him, he’d still start screaming every time he saw the alpha, wanting him out of the house. It sometimes scares Bachira how fast kids grow, and how well Koumei seems to understand and feel everything that happens around him now.

“I’ll… I’ll just put this here,” Isagi mumbles, his voice so quiet Bachira barely hears him. He leaves the expensive chocolate he bought by Koumei’s door, dragging his feet to the kitchen with his head hung low.

Bachira glances at him. “he won’t take it, not sure who’s stubbornness he inherited, both of us, probably, but he’s really put his foot down.” he sighs, pointing towards the pile of presents Isagi has gotten. “He didn’t touch any of the other things you bought him either, they’re all there.”

There’s long while of silence; Bachira pours them both a cup of coffee, gathering the remaining of Koumei’s breakfast left on the table. He sees Isagi’s fist clenching and unclenching hardly on the counter, the alpha’s eyes staring down, hidden by dark midnight hair falling over them. Bachira tries to put himself in his place, wondering how depressing it can be to hear Koumei tell him he hates him. His heart squeezes so hard it almost bursts with sorrow.

It’s really not Bachira’s problem. he’s already done whatever he could to make the kid comprehend the incident. Him and Isagi are only co-parenting. They’re not a couple. They don’t share their problems. Fuck it, they’re not even friends anymore.

And still Bachira can’t help but want to soothe the alpha, even if it’s just a little.

“…don’t worry about it too much. He’ll forget by the next time you visit. I’ll take him to more matches so he’ll get used to–"

“I’m not leaving,” Isagi blurts out, finally looking up at Bachira. The omega turns to him with wide eyes.

“huh? Isn’t this the last day of your stay? Did Bluelock change–”

“no, the team is leaving. Actually, they must be on their way already. I told them I’ll stay for a few more days.”

Bachira stops his cleaning. “Eh? but–… you have practice matches with Re-Al and PxG in Madrid. aren’t you—”

“I’ll make it to the second matches, plus Ego wanted to try a new combination with Barou at the center anyway…” he brushes it off like it’s barely important at all. That Isagi. The so-called best striker of the world, who plays and lives and breathes soccer, like this world is worth nothing if he doesn’t get to score goals. “I couldn’t possibly depart with Kou like this…” he bites his thumb, his eyes regaining their light as they sharpen with concentration. “I’ve got to change my approach. What could possibly make him—…”

He trails off, probably digging deep into the philosophy of the whole world’s creation so he can come up with a certain formula to make up with Koumei again. Bachira just stares at him dumbfounded, unnamed emotions swirling inside him. lately, this has been happening a lot whenever Isagi is around.

He looks away slowly, picking up his work while trying to process his feelings. this is really strange. Feeling is the one thing that Bachira has always been really good at. If he really digs into it, he’ll probably figure it’s because when it comes to Isagi, there is always a sense of insecurity and fear underneath, so he runs from all of his emotions for the alpha so he wouldn’t have to face those.

It takes him a bit to organize his thoughts, but then just as the blank emotions start to gain back their colors –happiness; because Isagi loving Koumei and dotting on him makes Bachira want to adore him in return, and safety; knowing Isagi is capable of prioritizing them over soccer– the alpha’s voice rises again, gasping in excitement like he finally found the answer.

“Let me kiss you, Meguru!”

Bachira drops the bottle of milk he was putting in the fridge, cursing under his breath before turning to Isagi with knit eyebrows.

“Excuse Me?”

“Oh- no, not like that! I mean, let me kiss you in front of Kou!” he gets up from his seat, picking up the bottle for him and explaining with such bright, confident eyes that Bachira is rendered speechless. “see, he’s angry at me for hurting you, so if he sees that I actually care about you, he’ll learn to trust me again!”

Huh.

So that was it.

Bachira frowns, wanting to take a step back but only hitting the cabinet when he tries.

“I don’t think he’d realize that. You’ve been helping me out a lot these days…”

Isagi shakes his head, grabbing onto the omega’s shoulders and speaking in his face. “that’s right. he doesn’t understand if I wash the dishes, or do your laundry. His cute baby mind doesn’t even think about stuff like that, but this…” he blinks rapidly, pointing at nothing as he searches for words in his head. “—showing direct affection, he’ll understand!”

Bachira keeps on staring at him, a little annoyed, a little bewildered. The audacity!

Isagi seems to realize he overstepped at the reaction, immediately letting go of him and stepping back with both hands raised in surrender.

“oh… ah, I mean, of course, if you want to… I’m just… will you– I mean, can I please—…”

“fine.” Bachira ends the poor boy’s stuttering with a helpless sigh, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. Isagi looks at him like he just hung the moon and stars.

“r- really!?”

“you’re the one who asked! What are you getting surprised for??”

“haha… you’re right. I just didn’t expect ah–… um. Thank you.” He finally settles on, wearing a coy smile while rubbing the back of his neck, and Bachira wants to kiss him right now.

“MOMYYYY!!!” Koumei calls from the other room, and with one last glance to Isagi, Bachira goes to attend to him.

……

In the afternoon, with all three of them gathered in the living room to watch a cartoon, is when Isagi plays out his plan. He comes in with a bowl of fruit in hand, and as he bends to place it in front of Bachira, he plants a short peck on his cheek. He makes sure that Koumei is looking, the little alpha sitting on another sofa to be closer to the TV, as he takes the seat next to Bachira, but the reaction he gets out of Bachira is probably more than the kid. Especially when wraps a hand around him as well. Really, this wasn’t in the deal!!

Bachira almost flinches at the touch, face heating up and heartrate picking up a crazy pace. It’s ridiculous. Their kisses are a hundred times more heated every time they meet for Bachira’s heat, but somehow this small, pathetic, barely-a-kiss thing is embarrassing Bachira so much. he tries to calm himself by glancing at Koumei. The pup is staring at them with a troubled expression, before looking away slowly in favor of watching his cartoon. Bachira lets out a relieved sigh—only now realizing he was nervous about his son’s reaction. Him and Isagi never do couply stuff in front of Koumei, so he didn’t know how this might come across.

Well, not as bad as he imagined, apparently. The kid looked surprised, but not bothered, even though he was still angry at Isagi. This might actually work…

“mhm-!” he blinks stupidly at the slice of apple held out in front of him, turning to Isagi with question in his eyes.

The other smiles, pressing the fruit against his lips. “say ‘ahhh’ ”

His eyes stray to Koumei for only a second, and as ridiculous as Bachira finds this, he still opens up, accepting the piece. Then, before he has even swallowed the first one, another slice is held in front of him.

“these are really good,” the alpha cheers, turning to Koumei next. “do want some too, Kou-kun?”

Bachira turns to also look at the child. He’s looking between them with curious eyes and pressed lips, his previous petulance more or less gone.

He gets up, slowly walking towards them. he grabs the apple from Isagi’s hand without a word, then climbs the sofa they’re sitting on to recline on Bachira’s other side.

“is it delicious?” Isagi asks, so joyful he sounds like he could cry. This is the first Koumei has taken anything from him since the incident after all.

Koumei doesn’t answer, but that doesn’t dishearten Isagi. He peels another apple, holding the first piece to Bachira’s mouth again. the omega looks into his clear eyes with awe, before wrapping his lips around the offering. Isagi’s smile widens, as beautiful and charming as ever, and he continues peeling fruits and feeding them to his mate. Every now and then, when he finds Koumei is looking, he offers one to him as well, which the pup accepts quietly after a small glance at his mom.

This really did work better than Bachira expected.

……

By the night, Koumei isn’t actively avoiding Isagi anymore. he’s a little quieter than usual, but Bachira finds that’s only because he’s closely watching their interactions. Actually, observing might be a better word. Wearing the same thoughtful expression Bachira’s seen on Isagi a hundred times, his eyes sharp and calculating like him too.

“Meguru?” Isagi calls as he sees Bachira trying to climb a cabinet, quickly getting up to stop him. “wait wait- your leg– Careful! what do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

Bachira sighs, letting Isagi pull him down before the cabinet breaks under his weight. This is the flat Barcha has provided him after he signed their contract, so despite it being in a good neighborhood and close to the club, it doesn’t have the best furniture, and Bachira is still in too much debt to afford anything better. He points to the highest cabinet once he’s down, huffing in frustration.

“I wanted to make Mei-chan banana milk, but the mixer is on the highest shelf,” he complains, barely considering Isagi of any help as he scans him up and down. they’re both about the same height after all. “we have a stool in the bathroom. I’ll go ge–Woah!!”

“no need.” Isagi says as he lifts him up, wrapping his hands around Bachira’s knees and placing him on one shoulder. “can you reach it now?”

Bachira is a little light-headed, not because of the height, which is enough of a surprise to make anyone scream, but more at the casual display of strength. The easy lift, the broad shoulder he’s sitting on, the thick bicep wrapped around his legs… he wonders for a second if he’s weightless. Fuck. Isagi is doing very, very dangerous things to his heart.

“y—yeah, thanks…” he grabs the mixer with shaking hands, and pretends his heart isn’t jumping out of his chest when Isagi’s arms slowly travel up his body, strongly wrapping around his waist before safely placing him down.

“Hahahaha! Mommy flying!” Koumei’s delighted laughter echoes in the kitchen, the little pup clapping his hands while jumping restlessly in his place. “Mommy up! Hahaha! Daddy strong!”

His playfulness makes Bachira smile too, exchanging a look with Isagi.

“Yeah? Did you see that? Mommy was flying!” Isagi crouches so he’s on eye-level with the pup, also wearing a stupidly big smile. Koumei seems to forget his anger with him for now, because he matches his father’s energy easily.

“Again. AGAIN!” He chirps while bringing both of his hands up. “Mommy Up!”

Bachira raises his eyebrows, but he already knows he won’t get a say as Isagi turns to him with that cocky smile.

This time when Isagi lifts him, he holds onto his head, giggling instead of gasping in surprise. Koumei laughs amusedly, and Isagi does a spin for show.

“C’mon, Mei-chan! don’t you want to fly too?” Bachira asks mischievously, placing a palm on Isagi’s chest as the alpha takes him off of his shoulder, but still keeps him up in the air with one hand under his thighs. “Daddy is strong, he can hold us up both. Right, Daddy~?”

He draws a line on Isagi’s shirt, right above his collarbone, fighting back an evil laugh at the flush that paints the alpha’s face scarlet.

Koumei couldn’t be more excited, clawing at Isagi’s pants to be picked up.

Well now, take that, tough guy! No matter how strong Isagi is, holding up both Bachira and Koumei is bound to take a toll on him. right?

…right.

Isagi lifts Koumei up with one hand, holding him at his side like a sack of rice, before walking—more like running out of the kitchen. Bachira and Koumei scream at the same time, a surprised, happy little sound, accompanied by the little pup and Isagi’s laughter.

“Daddy! Faster! Faster!”

“Wha- Yoichi! Oh my god… nayahaha! Careful with the—” his warning comes a little late as Isagi’s foot hit a table, the alpha bending in on himself from the pain. Their flat is a bit too small for games like this, Bachira should’ve known better.

Not like he would’ve stopped Isagi either way. Actually, watching his face twist in pain is kind of funny. Koumei probably shares the same thought, because once he turns to look up at his father, he bursts into laughter, triggering Bachira’s laughter as well. Isagi groans at them, still safely holding them up.

“Ugh—that really hurt you know!”

“haha~ let me down,” Bachira speaks through his giggles, unconsciously brushing back Isagi’s hair to see his face better, holding his cheek with the other hand. Isagi looks up at him with those big oceanic eyes, suddenly so close that Bachira almost drowns in them. he practically sees his own breath fanning against dark-blue lashes, and heat quietly creeps up his neck. “I- I’ll… check if anything—” He trails off, Isagi’s intent gaze taking his breath away.

Koumei’s struggling brings them back to themselves.

Isagi places Bachira down, holding Koumei with both hands instead and throwing him up in the air. the little alpha laughs excitedly, yelling ‘again’ and ‘higher’ as Isagi continues to act as his personal trampoline. Bachira’s heart is still drumming against his chest when the alpha walks out of his view, the tips of his fingers aching and his palms sweating. He takes a deep breath, clutching his shirt as he goes to make them banana milk.

……

There’s really no reason for Isagi to do it again, what with Koumei clinging to him all-night and even accepting his presents. But he still kisses Bachira at the dinner table, then in the middle of a game they play with Koumei, then again at the door before he leaves. Bachira flushes the same amount almost every time, never ready enough to react in any way.

When Isagi pulls him close at the door, one arm boldly snaking around his waist, Koumei is clinging to Bachira’s leg, watching them from behind the omega. The kiss lingers a little longer this time –not that Bachira’s counting the seconds, haha, who would do that?– and Isagi smiles sweetly to him before pulling away. Bachira almost chokes from how long that makes him hold his breath.

The alpha turns to Koumei next, bending and asking the kid with that hopefulness in his eyes. “Kou-kun? will you give daddy a goodbye kiss?”

Bachira turns to his son, who looks back at him, kind of hesitant—like he only just remembered that he was angry at his father. He gives in at the sight of the omega’s approving nod and steps forward. Isagi softly takes him into his arms, rubbing his wrists on his neck and letting out a deep, relieved sigh. His smile widens when Koumei kisses his cheek, then clings to him with those small arms, instinctively sniffing his neck, the dark scent giving him comfort.

Something warm wells up inside Bachira’s chest, eyes softening with all the love and adoration he has for both of the alphas. As awkward and broken as his relationship with Isagi is, he can’t say he is not a great father. Just the picture of him like this, holding their kid in his arms tenderly and kissing his head, is so perfect and beautiful that it makes Bachira’s heart ache from how he’s separating this dad and son. Not that there was any other way for them… not that he did this on purpose…

The little pup returns to his embrace once he’s done saying his goodbye to Isagi, asking to be picked up. Bachira makes a ‘you’re getting too heavy to keep on asking this!’ face but complies anyway. Not that Koumei’s weight would be an issue any time soon. he could probably turn fifteen and Bachira would still be able to hold him up easily. He just wants for the pup to not get too used to getting picked up; little steps on his journey of growing up.

Once up, Koumei looks at his face with an unreadable expression, before smooching his cheek.

“oh my~ thank you!” Bachira chuckles, squeezing his kid with delight. “what was that for?”

“Daddy kiss Mommy! Mommy happy!” he answers before kissing him again.

Bachira fears his eyes will gauge out with how wide he’s opening them. he got happy at Isagi kissing him? No way! He blushes, turning away from the two pair of blue-eyes now trained on him.

“Mommy happy?” Koumei asks while trying to see his face, a bright smile on his face.

Bachira turns to him, melting at the sight of those cute dimples his boy has—the ones that match Bachira’s own. A smile blooms on his face, if only to show off the original ones.

“yes, honey. Kisses are lovely. I’m happy!”

“hehe, Mommy love kisses. chuuu~” he pouts his lips, swaying in Bachira’s arms as his eyelids fall heavy with sleep.

Bachira turns to Isagi then, still standing by the door, and almost blushes again at the love-struck face he’s making at them. there’s a happy flush on the high of his cheeks, ocean eyes waving calm and soft, lips curving up in the sweetest smile ever. If Bachira didn’t know better, he’d think Isagi was admiring him and Koumei. That he loved them. both of them, Bachira included.

But that’s not it. Bachira’s been there too. he probably was making a similar face at Isagi hugging Koumei. It’s not them. it’s the alpha and omega inside, preening at the sight of their mate protecting their pup. Not love, no. just instinct.

(please, I beg of you. Let this be just instinct…)

“Daddy come tomorrow?”

“oh… yeah. I will.” Koumei’s question finally drags Isagi out of his daze, the alpha taking a clumsy step back, clicking the elevator button even though the door is already open. “I better get going now… what time will you leave, Meugru?”

“hm… practice starts at 8. If you’ll come I better text Mine-chan to take tomorrow off.”

“right, the caretaker… I’ll be here tomorrow at 7. And the day after. She can get a good rest.”

“she’s actually been on rest this whole time you’ve visited. I think she would like to come back eventually...” Bachira teases.

“haha, maybe I should just stay and steal her job.” Isagi teases right back, obviously reluctant to leave. “I bet I’ll be so much better than her~ right, Kou?”

“mhm-…” Koumei mumbles sleepily, dozing off on Bachira’s shoulder. Isagi caresses his cheek one last time before getting into the elevator.

“then, I’ll see you tomorrow…”

“yeah…” Bachira waves before he knows it, sending Isagi off with a smile. “goodnight.”

……

“nee, Mommy…” A small voice rises through the dark, Koumei creeping into Bachira’s arms once he gets in the bed and pulls his sweet-smelling blanket over them both. “you like daddy?”

Bachira freezes. He listens for the pup’s breathing, slow and quiet, wondering if he imagined what he just heard. Koumei moves half-consciously, nuzzling his chest and mumbling something under his breath. Is he sleep-talking?

“ng-… Mommy?” he asks again, sending Bachira spiraling down a thousand thoughts.

Where did that come from? What does it even mean…? is it a ‘Mommy do you like chocolate-mint ice cream?’ type of question or is it a ‘Mommy why aren’t we all living together?’ kind?

And either way, what is Bachira supposed to tell him?

Certainly not ‘I don’t like him’ or ‘I’m actually in love with your daddy (have been, for as long as I remember) but I’m keeping that a secret because I’m supposed to have moved on after such a long time, but also, I’m sleeping with him on my heats and sometimes, he fucks me like he loves me too—which is irrelevant, because in reality we’re barely talking, only holding back from screaming out our regrets and tearing up old wounds because we don’t want you to notice any of this.’

Even without all the issues of the past between Bachira and Isagi as a couple, they still wouldn’t have been a normal family with soccer and their egos getting in the way of their parenthood. They might make it look fine, patching up the broken pieces for now until time would fix everything, but in truth, they’re falling apart. It gets increasingly harder to deceive a kid as they grow up, and Bachira is always afraid of that moment Koumei would find out everything was pretend.

His scent has gone sour, and his heart rate has picked up. Koumei frowns, grip tightening on Bachira’s sleepwear as he hardly opens one eye. His voice almost jostles Bachira out of his skin.

“Mommy…?”

“OH-… ah, why are you asking that, honey?”

Koumei frowns harder. “Daddy bad? Mei-chan don’t like daddy?”

Oh.

Something falls in the pit of Bachira’s stomach.

So that’s what this is about. He’s asking for Bachira’s permission to forgive Isagi. He still hasn’t forgotten… Bachira feels overwhelmed and happy at the same time. And you’d think it’s only the parents that worry about their kids…

He squeezes the pup in his arms, letting out a relieved sigh as he restarts scenting their room. “oh no, Mei-chan! Daddy is good! Really good! He plays with you tons, right?”

“mhm-… Daddy good to Mei.” his voice grows smaller, sleep washing all of his features as his little body relaxes in response to Bachira’s pheromones going back to normal. “Daddy good to mommy too?”

Something bursts inside Bachira. “yes, honey. Yes. He’s good to me too.”

“mhm Mei… ng… love daddy…”

Bachira kisses the little alpha’s head, stroking his hair until his quiet snoring rises.

“sorry for making you worry, Mei-chan.” he whispers through the lump in his throat, hugging his pup harder. “…I love your daddy too.”