Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eight months in, and Shouyou knows his friends are getting tired of his moping around. Shaking the overbearing sense of despondency has been tough fresh out of a long-term relationship, or at least it still feels fresh to him. Grieving the relationship, that's what his friends called it in the beginning. 

Now, though, now they’re starting to get impatient with him. They want the old Shouyou back. Happy and care-free, the type of person who’d sooner talk to a wall just to have sounds tripping over his tongue rather than lulling silence. These days he’s more introspective, and certainly more reclusive. And don’t get him wrong, he’s tired of feeling like this too. Still, plucking up the courage to get out and give life another try has been an elusive thing.

It's not like his last relationship was even earth shattering or anything, but it had its good moments and, probably most importantly, was lengthy. Time and effort went into that relationship, and all Shouyou had to show for it was nearly two years of mostly arguments and personality clashes. 

Shouyou rationalizes that's probably why he's taken so long to move on. 

Attached more to the idea of love, the prospects of it and all the wasted hopes that were poured into a dead-end. Fearful of extending that kind of hand again only for his wrist to be smarted away again for the effort. Afterall, two years is not an insignificant amount of time to invest into a relationship only for it to fail. 

Longer relationships have certainly crumbled amongst others, but something about a relationship failing he had been so optimistic about in the beginning has left a lingering sting. Mostly he's disappointed in himself, in the lost opportunity of what could have been a lifelong partnership if they could have worked out. 

The potential was there, but the impetus from both parties was lacking, and that’s what really, truly, feels like a gut-punch. 

Because the good moments were so good. Addicting, even. Kept him wanting that feeling back through all the yelling matches and disagreements. Made him think the most recent round of makeup sex would actually do the trick and they'd finally get their shit together long enough to not fight for a week. 

Trying so hard only for things to spiral out of control has made him wary of trying again with someone new. He and his ex had worked so well platonically, but romantically turned into an absolute shitshow. Starting over is frightening enough, but if things could fall apart so fantastically between somebody he’d been close friends with at one point, what hope could there possibly be for any other soul out there? It sucks, because everybody told him that being friends beforehand was an advantage, but after such a negative experience Shouyou is remiss to ever risk failure again. 

Limiting his dating pool is fantastically stupid according to his friends, but Shouyou won't budge on his self-imposed rules. Potentially ruining another friendship is out of the question. Friend groups like his tend to circle around each other, and making things tense or awkward for a second time doesn't sound very appealing if and when things don't work out. 

Dealing with his ex in close proximity during social outings is more than enough. A burden really, having to share space and air and friends with him, and sometimes even see him with other people. Fortunately, for his sake and their team, being around the alpha at games has been no problem. Focusing all his misery and frustration into winning is cathartic, all that channeled energy serving to elevate their plays to new heights and rake in validating victories. 

It really is too bad that sort of effort never quite translated into their personal lives. 

So much lost potential, and it pisses him off so bad that the same caliber of commitment was never reciprocated to get that result. 

Ruminating on it just makes him feel less than, like something is wrong with him. He knows he's good enough, but acknowledging that he wasn't, at least to his ex, really challenges his own perceptions of himself. Voicing that to his friends only results in him being yelled at in a different frequency— good naturedly, of course, but still Shouyou will just be keeping those thoughts to himself from now on. 

Part of coming to grips with what’s happened includes coming to accept his own insecurities as a consequence of his failed relationship. It’s a little thing called growth , and if he has to do it in the confines of his own head he will. 

He knows he wants to be loved. Knows he especially wants to give love in return in equal measure. And maybe that’s the problem. He’s such a loving person that often the extent he’ll go for others comes at the expense of himself. Learning to understand boundaries and expectations seems insurmountable outside of knowing he desperately needs to avoid a repeated train wreck of toxic codependency, though. 

Shouyou is confident he'll get there. Eventually. On his own time. Timelines shouldn’t exist for these types of life events. Rushing the process will only set him up for repeated failures, and this most recent trainwreck is enough experience for him for a lifetime. 

Eight months has been long enough to want to start venturing out again, so it’s not like he hasn’t had any progress. Nothing serious, of course. Just to ease back into things, have a little fun. Get his friends off his back. Attached strings aren’t something he’s really interested in again yet. If he tethers himself as tightly as he did to his ex the string might snap again, and Shouyou doesn’t want to subject himself to another freefall. 

Trying his luck with strangers doesn't sound appealing at all, though. Which puts him in quite a dilemma with his staunch rejection of considering anybody he’s even remotely on friendly terms with.  

Shouyou doesn’t bar crawl or club all that much, and trying to set up an online dating profile simply made him feel ridiculous. Trying to summarize his personality and interests into a few sentences seemed incredibly vain, and he could only ever end up with something that read more like a want-ad of a traditional newspaper instead of something substantial enough to entice an alpha to reach out to him. 

Starting out feeling like a complete idiot before he even hit ‘ submit’ didn’t exactly instill confidence. And anyway, assuming he had gone through with that and managed to attract a likable alpha, he would still eventually have to meet up with a total stranger at some point, and just, ugh, no. No thank you. 

Classes aren't much better. 

Everyone is fairly studious and non-talkative, and the ones who aren’t are mostly other athletes toeing the line of academic probation. Starting a relationship with somebody willing to jeopardize their education screams reckless to him, and Shouyou would really like to avoid recklessness from here on out if at all possible. Trying to talk to his more bookish classmates afterward has also never panned out. All attempts have either been incredibly awkward for lack of shared interests or completely missing an opportunity altogether. 

Shouyou actually does wish he could catch that one alpha in class, though. He really wants to tell him that he should definitely go to open try-outs for track later in the spring. That guy sure can move fast when he wants too and would be an asset for various sprint distances. 

Speaking of, Shouyou is just about ready to head out for his morning jog. 

Saturday morning jogs became a habit in the last year, the main difference being that he runs solo now instead of with a partner. Annoyingly, he had to figure out a completely different route so he could avoid his ex. Routines are a routine for a reason, and apparently he was keeping the same schedule and route regardless, but Shouyou can’t stand running beside him anymore. 

All it does is make him want to chat and babble like he used to. Words that will surely fall on deaf ears, and, at worse, be on the receiving end of a snappy comment or instruction to be quiet altogether. 

A quick text is sent to his friends. Another rejection for going out tonight. Before a litany of badgering replies can come flooding in, Shouyou switches the device to silent. 

Stepping into the morning air is refreshing, a stark contrast to the cozy interior of his dorm building. The morning air is crisp and a little chilly. Taking a page out of Bokuto’s fashion book helps some. Long leggings underneath his running shorts aid in staving off the worst of the chill while he runs, as does a matching compression undershirt. After a few stretches, Shouyou checks to make sure his phone is properly secured in a zippered pocket and that his laces are double-tied, and then he’s off. 

His new route is actually kind of nice. 

After circling the main quad and weaving through several academic halls, the pathway breaks away to connect to the on-campus lake. Geese and ducks are fighting near the water's edge on the opposite side, presumably over the seeds a few underclassmen keep tossing their way. Shouyou has little sympathy when the students go scrambling away not a few seconds later. The campus geese are notorious for being demonic on a good day, and it seems the birds have lost their patience with such meager offerings. 

Branching off from the lake leads him towards where a majority of the school’s sports facilities are housed. He loops by the building where the pools are, and through a foggy window can see water splashing where several members are working in individual lanes. Down from there are multiple practice fields for varying sports. 

Nothing too fancy, just something to keep the main stadiums from being torn up constantly from all the teams needing to hone skills and strategies. It’s his least favorite leg of the route; even the sidelines are lumpy and uneven. Chunks of grass and dirt are missing from all the rough use, and it’s honestly a miracle Shouyou hasn’t twisted an ankle running the length of the fields yet. 

Lastly he comes to his favorite section: the complex housing the main gym stadium.

An indoor-running track is incorporated around the perimeter of the complex, and ducking into the building is always a nice reprieve no matter the weather. Comfortably warm in the spring and fall months, and blessedly cool in the hotter ones. It’s the perfect spot to utilize as a looping point until making the return trek back to his dorm. 

After several laps around the complex, he enters into the inner housing of the stadium through one of several entrance doorways. Three times a week he incorporates stair runs for his jogs just to torture himself a little, and this week is stair day. 

Forcing himself to take the stairs has done wonders for his already impressive jump height. The team re-measured last week and he was able to crest an additional two centimeters from his last record. Each stair run he does has gotten better, too— he doesn’t look totally dead after a dozen trips up and down the spectator stairs anymore, at least, so to him that's plenty of progress. 

Surprisingly, there’s several people already inside the gym. A full net is set up at center floor, with various play formations and drills being practiced all at once. Chaos to a general onlooker, but even a brief glance tells Shouyou there’s structure to all the flying volleyballs and moving bodies down there. 

He doesn’t recognize whoever they are, but as long as team practices aren’t already scheduled then the gym is free-use to students who want to book the space. Recreational teams among the dormitories aren’t uncommon, and Shouyou is pretty sure he’s seen flyers for volleyball at some point in his dorm’s common area. Maybe that’s who they are?

No, surely not. 

They’re insanely good for somebody not to be on a collegiate team. Especially at this university, where athletic scholarships are well-known to be lucrative and all-encompassing for tuition, supplies, room, and board. 

Shouyou is proud of himself for barely hesitating in his pace to gawk at the center floor, instead heading directly to one of the centermost aisles to begin his first trip up the stairs. People have told him he's far too nosey for his own good, and this situation is certainly no different. He has to focus really hard on his ascents and descents, otherwise he’ll trip and fall from being distracted. Which he really doesn’t want to do. This stadium can hold thousands of people, and as such the aisles stretch skyward to pack in the spectators. 

Judging by body language, a few members look tired and irritable this early in the morning. As if they've been dragged from their beds and want to return as quickly as possible. Maybe they have, for all Shouyou knows. The look isn't totally unfamiliar to Shouyou. Quite a few of his own teammates aren't morning people, and it takes them a little bit to warm up and be fully engaged. 

Regardless, the sets being provided are amazing from what Shouyou can see. 

They’ve since moved on from general chaos and are working on running plays. The setter at the center of it all is sublime even from Shouyou’s current vantage point high up in the stadium.

Tiredness or no, that should have anyone energized no matter how early it is. It's early in the morning, sure, but the sets being lopped into the air are all nearly perfect. Those sort of setups are exciting, and Shouyou can't possibly imagine how anyone could look exasperated if those are the caliber of tosses being set. 

Then again, maybe the setter is like him . Maybe that particular setter dictates a grueling pace or has unreasonable expectations. Granted, Shouyou has been present for all of thirty seconds, but the blond setter doesn't seem to be the type to throw temper tantrums when plays don't go his way like a certain somebody Shouyou knows.

There haven't been any rough calls or comments from what he could hear when he was near the floor, and aside from a few sleepy looking players the whole team doesn't look worse for wear. Not a self-appointed king, then. Good for them. A return trip down the stairs will let him assess in more detail, maybe even give into temptation to jump the elevated railing at the bottom and go be as nosey as he wants to be. 

With that in mind, Shouyou breaks into a sprint up the long aisle of stairs. At the top he immediately turns to do a return descent. Pacing himself will allow him to catch his breath on the downward trek and keep an eye on the events below. 

He feels kind of dumb trailing his hand on the middle railing, but as often as he keeps glancing at the center floor, he sort of needs the reassurance for balance. Tripping and taking a tumble all the way down would be mortifying. Forget trying to figure out his love life. Shouyou would prefer to simply just pass away if that were to happen. 

Catching a glimpse of yet another perfect toss makes his palms itch. Whoever the blond setter is really had to reach for that one, but still managed to send it backwards and parallel to the net. A spiker was directly in its path, and a beautiful cross shot was the result. Smacking one of those serves would be so much fun! 

Shouyou has been so distracted that he's not really sure what loop he's on for the stairs anymore. Whatever circuit he's on will be his last. He's starting to feel a slight burning in his thighs, so he's probably already done more than enough circuits for today. Shouyou has an ungodly amount of stamina, but having some time to rest before his own team gathers later in the afternoon would probably be best. 

Using the end of the bottom stair rail as leverage, Shouyou decides that cheating the last few steps won't matter all that much. He lands on his feet and keeps moving, threading along the court's spectator edge while still occasionally glancing at all the movement going on at the net. The stadium seating ends with a small step-down, right at the entrance of the gymnasium at floor level. He jumps those steps as well, slowing the pace he's set as he approaches the row of doors that will lead him out into the hallway and lobby areas. 

The university he attends is beautiful and generally well kept, but Shouyou swears all of the budget goes into landscaping and other investments. The first time he tried bursting through one of the doors with momentum all he got was a bruised shoulder to show for it. No amount of door grease seems to get the release mechanism to give with no less than a firm, steady push of the bar. 

A loud bang just centimeters from his head makes him startle. Instinctively he jerks away from the sound, a hand reflexively darting up to his chest and shoulders up to his ears as he spins to locate the source. 

"Sorry!" Someone calls. 

"Loose ball! My bad!" Another chimes in. 

Said ball has spun out not far away, the torque of the revolutions slowly easing off to a standstill. Shouyou walks towards it to pick it up with a huff. Flashbacks of vicious rogue serves connecting with his skill cloud his memory. 

When he first took up the sport, his game sense and awareness was so dismal that Shouyou is honestly surprised he escaped the learning curve without a concussion or two. He's sort of mad he didn't pick up on the distinct whizzing sound of a ball with that much torque on it. Refined reflexes would have allowed him to dodge for a wide berth if he had picked up on the sound. 

When he looks back all eyes are on him. 

A few players are waving to throw it back and others vocalize the same instructions. A scrimmage match has formed now, the chaotic situation play and spiking drills all packed away. The ball in his hands is the current game ball, all the others piled into a rolling bin at the opposite end of the court.

Huh, he must have really zoned out on his last stair run. That or this group is insanely quick at picking up stray equipment as they progress through their practice routine. Maybe both, who knows. 

Shouyou glances at the ball in his palms. The brand is the same as the ones that his university uses, but the coloring is different. A visiting team makes much more sense with the skill level he's been able to observe so far, however minimally. 

Team practice isn't for a few more hours, but Shouyou is willing to bet their coach was planning on surprising them later. Coach likes to do that sort of thing, spring surprises to see how effectively they can react to unpredictability. Says it builds character, but Shouyou thinks he just likes to inject a little mayhem every now and then for his own entertainment. 

A player with sandy colored hair has started to make his way across the gym, but Shouyou smiles and waves him off. He'll give it back, but he'd like to do so properly. A quick tally of the side closest to him shows they're short a player anyway, so if all goes well they can just pick up their game once he puts the ball in play. 

Shouyou dribbles the ball aggressively, quickly gauging the bounce. He ends with one open palm smack to assess the return, and smacks it a little harder when the ball doesn't rise as high as he'd like. He doesn't bother calling to make sure if the opposing side is ready or not; if they're half as good as Shouyou thinks they are then they'll have recognized what he plans to do and act accordingly. 

Tossed high in the air, Shouyou locks eyes on the ball and takes a running start into a jump serve. The impact lights up the surface of his palm in a delightful sting, sending the ball flying. There's more than enough momentum to clear the net as it skims the boundary line of the court. A small scuffle ensues to dig it for a fair play, because even though it's narrow, they can all see the ball would be considered in bounds should it be allowed to fall. 

Falling into the court's rhythm is natural. One friendly smile and yell of affirmation to join in is all it takes to have his legs moving into action. These players aren't familiar with him, so Shouyou didn't expect to be set up for a spike or anything, but it doesn't matter anyway. He can immediately tell that the guy currently designated as a liberio isn't in his primary position. 

The point ends up going to the opposing side, and before Shouyou can stop himself he's blurting out an offer as the other side prepares to restart the set. 

"You want me to take lib?"

"Oh gods, yes , thanks!" 

Shouyou chuckles at that, and outright laughs when the person he assumes is the team's captain chides the player he exchanges spots with. Quickly he fishes his keys and phone from his pocket, running to perch them on the spectator ledge before the opposing side begins the next play. 

Sliding into the libero role is fairly easy. Although it's not his usual position, it's one he's familiar with. Enough to be able to competently hold his own when needed. 

Designated time is worked into the practice schedule to keep him abreast on managing the position for in-game scenarios. His team's designated player is an omega just like himself, and fortunately enough their heat cycles have managed to be opposite of each other. Filling Noya's spot is a tough role to do, but with his similar height and speed Shouyou is the most suitable for it. 

Willingly stepping into a huge learning curve is a challenge with a new, unfamiliar group of people, but Shouyou takes it in stride. For the most part he works well with the others, is able to field several receives to keep the ball alive in his side's favor. Match point is quickly reached, and they dance back and forth on who the winner will actually be. 

Frustratingly, his side takes the loss. 

The deciding factor involved him lunging for a save, and while the others kept the ball alive and over, the ball ultimately hit out of bounds. The outcome was hot on the heels of a rally between both sides, and once Shouyou sees the outcome he goes boneless. 

Sprawled out and breathing heavily, Shouyou feels what he describes as 'good tired.' His cheeks hurt, and if he had to guess it's probably from grinning for a majority of the time that he was in play by the way his face aches. Shouyou blinks at the hand suddenly in his face, but the person attached to it is also smiling. He reaches out, and suddenly gravity is shifting as the other pulls him into a sitting position. 

"—awesome, man! What's your name?" 

"Oh, uh, Hinata," He replies, "Hinata Shoyaaaagh!" 

Gravity upending to help to sit up was gentle compared to being roughly hauled to his feet. He staggers backwards a few steps as his feet chase after balance from the abruptness of being vertical again. 

" Shouyou! " 

Ah, it's Tobio, because of course it is. Deep and rich and irritated, his voice is a dead giveaway before Shouyou’s eyes can lock onto the source. 

Bitter ash billows off him in waves, and if Shouyou weren't already accustomed to the scent he'd probably choke on it. Even when they were together the scent never cowed him during their spats. On an instinctual level maybe that was a contributing factor to their relationship being undermined. Instincts don't really give a shit about civility and gender equality. Primal needs are only concerned with dominance and submission— and Shouyou has never done submission very well. 

Not after aspiring to be like his former alpha, at least. 

Confident, assertive, strong, self-assured. Those were qualities Shouyou admired in Tobio. Emulating those traits morphed into embodying them, and it felt so right to finally feel secure in own merits, his own strengths, rather than being dependent on external forces. At the time Shouyou felt wonderful about the changes he could feel taking root. Giddy at the prospect of being equals to an alpha like Tobio, and at first he believed the alpha would take pride in him. 

In the beginning, before he found his confidence as an athlete and as an omega, he would simper and cower behind others. Primarily familiar alphas, as his instincts dictated. Tobio seemed to be the one he gravitated towards most frequently when frightened or startled and— and maybe that's the crux of it all isn't it? 

Growing as a person made him outgrow any potential relationship with the fuming alpha before him. Shouyou is not submissive like he used to be. He's loud and brash and opinionated— all the traits traditional omegas should not exhibit, especially where private matters concerned. Public, private, none of that mattered to Shouyou after he came into himself. Opinions were voiced, preferences made known, emotions, positive and negative, expressed. Walling himself back into a traditional shell just felt wrong, and he would never go back to that. 

Shouyou doesn't know if he should laugh or cry or both— gods , what awful timing! 

This sort of clarity is what he so desperately needed all these interval months since they broke up, but right now, at this moment, he doesn't want it. Mental breakthroughs are meant to be private affairs so that people can react as freely as they need to process new revelations and insights. 

And, oh , does being deprived of that make him angry. 

Somehow, some way, the alpha gripping at the nape of his shirt— rude , by the way…somehow Tobio has managed to exert some sort of influence on Shouyou’s own mental clarity. It's so infuriating that Shouyou feels beside himself. Emotions swirl chaotically, frantically. His scent is probably like charged lightning, maybe pungently bitter and tart to go along with the unapologetic anger roiling in his blood. 

In the back of his mind Shouyou knows his pheromones are being less than helpful in the presence of an agitated alpha, of many other alphas as well. But at the same time Shouyou also fails to see how that's his damn problem, because it's not. Everything was just fine before Tobio started in with this posturing bullshit! 

Shouyou tries to turn around, but the alpha does it for him. Spins him about face so quickly his eyes go cross for a second. When his vision catches up, they're nearly touching foreheads with how close Tobio has invaded his space. 

"Shouyou you dumbass! What d'you think you're doing ?" 

"What does it look like I'm doing? I was playing lib!" 

At least when he tries to pull back, Tobio releases him. Immediately it's clear the reason for the instant release is so that the alpha can stretch to his full height. Perpetually stuck at his high school stature, Tobio essentially towers over him. Shouyou swears Tobio has gone through three different growth spurts, so he’ll add that to his list of things that aggravate him about the alpha.

Shouyou isn't scared, however, not in the slightest. Staring down the looming figure was never an issue before and it hasn't suddenly become a problem today either.

"You're so dumb, gods ! All speed, no breaks," Tobio bellows, "You're gonna be useless against them for joint practice after going that hard already!" 

Something about the condescending tone really strikes a cord. One that vibrates and grows to an intensity that has his temper boiling right over into the words sitting at the edge of his tongue.

This . This sort of crap is exactly why they will never work longer than a few days in peace. 

Jealous, controlling, egotistical jerk never could stand to be left out of something Shouyou was involved in. Alpha certainly could never handle being bested by him, gods forbid. But geeze , it's not Shouyou’s fault that Tobio has the personality of a damn cactus and the emotional maturity of an irate toddler. 

Tobio and his social issues aren't his damn problem anymore. Those are personal problems the alpha should address on his own time, not drag Shouyou into the middle of and expect him to acquiesce to just to preserve the peace. 

Shock was everyone's reaction when they officially split, but their public spats were just that, public. Those disagreements were tame . Playful by their standards behind closed doors. Chaining those secrets is something he’s tired of playing warden for— he doesn’t owe Tobio anything, and maybe putting his crap behavior on display will get through that stupidly thick skull of his. 

Time to showcase what private disagreements between them really looked like.

A deep inhale releases his fury, right in front of the gods and everybody, and yeah, out of his periphery he can see his own teammates observing from the entrance doors. Whatever, he doesn't care who hears. 

"Woah, woah, woah," Shouyou cuts in, "I don't know who you're talking to like that but it sure isn't me !" 

"I knew something was wrong when you were taking so long. Morning jogs don't take two hours, dipshit, and I know you hate lifting weights." 

"You– you've been watching me?" Shouyou screeches, incensed, "You're not my keeper, what is wrong wi—" 

"Just c'mon, th'team's waiting and—" 

"Don't you fucking touch me you knothead!" 

To his credit, Tobio does falter a bit at the abrupt outburst. As if burned, the hand that had been reaching for his upper arm snaps back. Good , he thinks. If he could breathe fire right now he would be. 

Foul language rarely comes from Shouyou. The only time an explicative might be heard from him is when severe pain is involved. They've known each other long enough that Shouyou knows that Tobio knows he's mad right now. That doesn't mean an alpha like Kageyama Tobio will back down, though. 

Respect would be needed for that. Shouyou's beginning to wonder if a sliver of that little seven-letter noun ever existed in Tobio's head when it came to him.  

"What did you call me?" 

"You heard me! Or are you deaf too?" 

"Didn't hear you complaining about taking my knot, you little cockslut!" 

Nope, probably not. 

Other voices have joined the fray. It's a shock to his eardrums, but nothing compared to the electric zap of the insult. Arguments that escalated like this privately usually ended with them lunging at each other, frustration and anger bleeding into a tumble for dominance. 

Not of fists, though, but in bites and sex and a blessed smoothing of wildly fluctuating pheromones and inflamed instincts. 

Unlike before, Shouyou isn't interested in resolving their issues that way. He has just enough time to see those pretty cobalt eyes widen in response to his bared teeth and pulse of enraged pheromones. Shouyou is ready to fight, really fight, with the goal of placing a black eye on the alpha's stupidly handsome face instead of constellations along his neck. 

A big body blocks him from making good on that urge, and another thick pair of arms pulling him away sees him kicking and screaming as he's picked up and hauled back. Several of his own teammates have stepped in front of Tobio as well, it seems. Yelling and shouting can be heard as they shove the alpha away from where the visiting team is guiding himself to sit on one of the bottommost stadium seats. 

"Holy shit—" 

"What a prick—"

"Feisty little thing ain't he?" 

"Not helpful right n—" 

"What the actual fuck just—" 

There's several lines of commentary surrounding him, but Shouyou doesn't pay much attention. 

A balled fist slams down onto the seat next to him with enough force to rattle the plastic backing. The noise is too much, and petulantly he elbows the rattling into submission before hiding his face away. Face buried in his palms, he releases an extended muffled scream until his lungs are burning in their emptiness. He holds onto that feeling for a second, focusing on the bodily pain to distract him from the adrenaline rush before finally taking in a ragged breath.

Deep, rhythmic breaths afterward work to calm his racing heart. If he doesn't keep himself centered he knows he'll slip back into the urge to choose fight over flight. 

A large palm at his hunched back makes him flinch, and the bearer of it hesitates. Great, this is an absolute mess. 

"Are you, did your alpha—" 

" Not my alpha," Shouyou snaps, "Won't make that mistake again."

Shouyou is absolutely mortified that his palms come away moist. He's not outright crying, but a few traitorous drops have managed to well up as he begins to calm down. Adrenaline crashes are awful, because of all the people worthy of his tears, Kageyama Tobio is not one of them. He swipes at his eyes harshly with a balled fist, resisting the urge to sniffle at the cotton-like sensation tingling in his nose.

A pair of large shoes edge into the spaces he can see between his fingers. The person they belong to squats, and one of those feet jut out to keep an obviously big frame balanced as they do so. From the proximity Shouyou can guess that the, yes, alpha, definitely an alpha, is trying to assess what's going on, to get a gauge on an upset omega’s expression. 

"Okay," The person pauses, "But are ya a'ight , though?" 

"He never laid hands on me if that's what you're getting at."

The hesitation leaves the hand still hovering over his back at the admission. Searing heat in the shape of a large palm settles at his spine. Tension practically bleeds out of his tense muscles, and it's his elbows digging into his knees that keeps his sagging head upright. 

"Ever?" 

"Yeah." 

Silence settles in after that. He can see additional shoes shuffling around out of his periphery, but he stubbornly refuses to look up from the shiny wooden floor. Presumably some are meandering off to give him space, which he's grateful for, or perhaps over to wherever his team has Tobio sequestered at. Those black shoes don't move though, nor does the hand at his back. After a reassuring nudge, he finally speaks. 

"I'm fine, really. Tob– Kageyama's just a jerk." 

When he finally looks up to see who his company is, Shouyou blinks at the double image. During the scrimmage, seeing twins didn't phase him all that much. All he was really focused on was game play and trying to catch on to his team's playstyle as quickly as he could. The opposing side was mostly a blur of shapes, a splash of color, a specific body shape. Now that he isn't moving at breakneck speeds, he can see them for who they are. 

One with blonde, one with a silvery grey, each with the same concerned look on their identical faces. 

Securing his attention seems to allay them a bit. One, two, three paces are suddenly between him and the blonde alpha, and the hand at his back from the silvery one retreats just as quickly. He sort of wants the proximity back, the touch. As he's said, he's fine , but there's something calming about the twins. 

Hardly a handful of sentences have been exchanged between them, but their whole demeanor is pleasant, likable. Balanced, and boy could Shouyou use a little mental counterweight to keep himself from tumbling off a cliff. 

Kindness is something Shouyou is known for, but being on the receiving end of it is sort of new for him. Probably because he was wrapped up in a selfish alpha's pretense for so long. Small gestures like proximity and grounding touch became abnormal in a world where he should have been entitled to such actions. 

"You, uh, feelin' any better?" 

Shouyou breathes out an affirmative, plopping back into his seat fully just as the blonde alpha does the same next to him. 

Seated between the two makes him feel like he’s being squished between two pillars. Not only are these alphas tall, they’re also stocky and radiating heat from such big builds. Biology really isn’t fair sometimes. With his current jump height, Shouyou could probably catapult himself into the stratosphere if he were as tall as they were. 

One of them snorts, the other outright cackles. Shouyou realizes he’s said the last part aloud. Habits are hard to break, especially ones that like to materialize around people he’s comfortable around. Dumber things have been said in the past, and knowing he can make them laugh, even unwittingly, feels his chest with warmth. 

It is nice though, the warmth. The kind in his chest and the kind radiating from the big alphas bracketing him. Contentedness like this is a nice change of pace, if a little unexpected in the company of strangers. Whether intentional or not, their scents are soothing as well. Similar, as expected of twins, but each with a unique inflections of certain aspects underlying the base profile. Scenting at what are essentially strangers is terribly rude though, so Shouyou resists the urge to try and identify what the subtextual pheromones most closely resemble. 

A passing thought of gratitude for sports grade body wash filters through his mind. These two alpha needing to break up a literal fight between himself and his ex is embarrassing enough, nevermind subjecting them to a horrible first impression of his own scent. Shouyou knows he leans naturally sweeter on the scale because of his biology, but exertion and sweat can sometimes twist the naturally pleasant smell into something too tart. 

"I'm, uh, sorry about all this," Shouyou begins, "If I hadn't crashed your practice none of this woulda happened, probably." 

"Don't be, it's that asshole's fault for ruinin' everythin' not yours." 

"Kinda wanted to see if you'd of been up for rotatatin' sides before he came in. Was gettin' jealous of the first years gettin' all those good plays." 

That catches Shouyou’s attention. Not the proposition to rotate sides, but the implication that the two are upperclassmen. Having multiple jerseys blocking his vision earlier sort of forced him to actually read the lettering, and if he hadn't been so besotted with the idea of mauling his ex at the time, he might have been sheepish for not recognizing who this team is far earlier. Which begs the question of who these two alphas are. Shouyou isn’t the best with names, but he recognizes faces, and twins in the college volleyball circuit aren’t exactly in an abundant supply. 

He says as much, which earns him a chuckle from one and a casual shrug of the shoulders from the other. 

“Transferred in.” 

“Was in America for our first two years.” 

Shouyou blinks at the nonchalant replies. Their language proficiency and distinct dialect is a giveaway as to their nationality, and the blase attitude to their globetrotting is difficult for him to grasp.He struggled with the decision to come all the way to this university as it was, nevermind an entire ocean and continent away from his mother. 

“Aww, you’re a momma’s boy?” 

Shouyou forcefully returns the knee knock that accompanied that statement, which only makes the blonde burst out laughing again. 

“Shut up! I am not!”

Now the twin opposite of him has joined in the ribbing, teasing him over his flushed face. There’s no malice in the jabs, though. It’s all good-natured, the type of picking done merely to get a rise out of somebody but not really meant as an attack on their character. Shouyou is more confident in his assessment of the two. Good and kind, but able to poke fun in a way that isn’t hurtful or insensitive. And after a few moments Shouyou can’t help but feed into the banter.  

“Maybe I am, I guess,” He admits, “Just a little bit, though.” 

“Never said nothin’ was wrong with it.” 

“Yeah, we get on each other's nerves, but family’s important.”

Shouyou hums, thoughtful. The reassurances were uttered softly, done in a way to peel out of the taunting gently. Reclining back with his arms crossed, Shouyou smiles. This is nice, they’re nice. He wishes he knew their names. 

“Miya.” “Miya.” 

Shouyou blinks, unsure of which twin to look at first. That was probably the most non-answer he’s ever received to any question he’s asked in his life. Now that he thinks about it, how in the world do people go about addressing the twins on their team? Are they all on a given name basis? Do the twins just puzzle out who might be talking to them based on context? 

“Uh…” 

“Osumu.” “Atsumu.” 

The glaring between the two is hysterical, and a repeated attempt to give their names only results in them speaking at the same time again as before. Shouyou is able to parse out which name belongs to who, though, and after allowing them to bicker for a few moments he interjects. 

“Twin sync, I’m kinda jealous.” 

If there had been time, Shouyou is confident a round of objections would have been their response. Across the court he can see a member of his team waving to get his attention. Coach has walked in, and they’re needing him to join up with them. Tobio is glaring a hole into the floor, but otherwise there doesn’t seem to be any indication that their coach has caught wind of their incident. The relief is nearly palpable— being reprimanded for something Tobio instigated would have been beyond irritating. 

When he stands, so do the twins. They make their way across the court in unison, and Shouyou can’t shake the idea of it feeling like he has two bodyguards flanking him. 

“Don’t think ya need us to take up for you all that much.” Osumu quips. 

“Next time we’re just gonna let you kick that guy’s ass.” Atsumu supplies. 

Shouyou laughs, full and loud. Next time sounds amazing, because it means he’ll get to be around the two again. An offer to treat them afterward to the campus food court— known for its legendary variety of offerings, is immediately accepted. The twins offer up their own offer and promise to exchange contacts so they can all keep in touch after going their separate ways. 

Pointedly ignoring the oppressive energy coming off of Tobio as he moves into the front line alongside him, Shouyou delights in the sight of the entire opposing team pausing to look at him. Confusion marres the twin’s and the rest of their team’s faces. He jumps in place a few times, twists his upper body to stretch out the muscles that have gotten cold since scrimmaging as a substitute libero for the visiting team. 

If they thought he was good in that role, he can’t wait to see what they think of him while he’s in his element. 

Shouyou is sure his friends will be thrilled to know that he’s going out tonight after all, just not with them. Under this context though, he doesn't think they’ll really mind being blown off one more time. 

Chapter Text

When Shouyou finally arrives back at his dormitory, it's almost half past eleven. A conservative time for a weekend night, especially a Saturday, but exceedingly late by Shouyou’s more recent standards. Freshman year rarely saw him home on Saturday nights. Time back then was better spent in the company of his friends before falling into Tobio's bed afterwards. 

Avoiding parties, sleepovers, and overnight trips has become his new norm. Weekends have since become characterized by quiet evenings only disrupted by the turning of textbook pages or soft music, and typically an early bedtime to accommodate his equally early morning runs. It's done wonders for his studies, taking him from average to great, but at the expense of abject loneliness and isolation. 

It's sort of mind boggling to think that all the good habits he's formed. Habits formed from poor coping mechanisms, but whatever. Slowly working through all his issues is a huge understatement, but at the very least his self-imposed isolation has, at last, begun to bear fruits for all of its labors. 

Curiosity of potentially coming out of his shell has been nagging at him for a while, but so many bottled up fears and worries have kept the burgeoning feeling contained up until now. A chance run-in with a certain set of twins has accelerated the progress he's been dabbling in, created a chink in the chain binding all those worries to his resolve to make good on his desire to explore other people in a romantic sense. 

All he could do the entire walk home from the train station was smile like an idiot. He'd received several texts from the twins as he went, and nearly collided with a pole and a tree from being so absorbed in the back and forth exchanges. At some point they merged into a combined chat, and the chaos only escalated from there. 

One disastrous incident aside, today has been one of the best in recent memory. His chest hurts from laughing so much and his cheeks ache from the force of contorting into a smile for most of the day. The two are effortlessly funny, each in their own way, and being subjected to dual sources of humor kept him breathless nearly the entire time. 

Quieter moments were pleasant, too. Discussing the subject of what happened in the gym was unavoidable, especially when the star alpha breezed through to collect his own meal. The subject was handled tactfully and respectfully, which is more than Shouyou could have hoped for. He was no pressure to answer, and that was made completely clear. The initial question was a slip of the tongue, and the openly panicked look on Atsumu's face and exasperated one being leveled at him by his brother only confirmed that. 

When he did begin to speak, it was soft and unsure, but within a few minutes his voice grew steadier. Raptly attentive, Shouyou felt heard. More than merely listening and reacting, the twins were sympathetic in a way that didn't feel condescending or patronizing. Colorful commentary was kept to a minimum, though a few appropriately placed insults towards Tobio were uttered, and the way those words were said always made him snort and eventually derailed the heavy conversation altogether. 

Replaying the afternoon and evening in his mind only adds to the slight ache in his cheeks, because any thought pulls a grin right back into his jaw. When he looks in the mirror he sees a healthy dusting of red across the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears stained pink. The warmth of the color is searing beneath his fingertips when he dares to touch the skin.  

It all feels a bit juvenile. Rather than the young adult that he is, he feels like he did at the first turn of adolescence— all quick to be smitten by a handsome face and pleasant scents. A level of maturity to  combat the shallowness that supersedes those feelings is present now, at least. Even he can tell his assessment of the twins is more than skin deep, that intrinsically he's been searching for qualities that will endear him to them long after the beauty and energy of youth fades away with the passage of time. 

The ache in his chest flares over the realization that each box he'd hope to find in a partner was sequentially ticked the longer the day went on. Perfection seems awfully close to idealism, and Shouyou has already been a victim of that thanks to his past naivety. Falling prey to that again is something he wants to avoid, but, he supposes, the only way to discover imperfections is to risk the exploration process. 

Based on how the twins conducted themselves, however, it would probably be safe to assume spending more time with them with that intention in mind would be safe to do. More than that, he's a little older now. Wisdom usually comes with age, and even if it didn’t, Shouyou sure has paid a hefty toll from all his stumbling blocks, so there’s at least experience in his favor now. Uncovering idiosyncrasies of the twins sounds like a risk he's willing to take. 

Hopefully the twins make good on keeping in touch as they promised. 

He looks away from his reflection, a mixture of embarrassment and pure giddiness rolled into one. The longer he gazed at himself, the longer he allowed himself to think, the redder he became. Shouyou shrugs to himself, willing those thoughts onto a mental bookshelf for later consideration.

He's only just met them. He needs to get it together. 

The coloring has abated by the time he finishes with his nightly shower, and completely gone as he moves through his skin care routine. There's still a feeling of deep seated contentment humming in his bones, though, and recognition of how peaceful he feels after so long keeps a small upturn of his mouth permanently in place. 

Settling into his nest, he takes his phone with him. 

Dorming on campus restricts him from having a nest quite as large as he'd like, but overall he can't complain too much. The omega dorms were clearly designed by either omega, or at least an alpha with significant omegan influence on the design. It's still spacious enough to allow him to sprawl out and pack a ton of soft blankets and pillows onto the designated platform. Shouyou opted to make use of the hooks integrated into the ceiling, utilizing them to suspend a mixture of sheer and denser fabrics into a makeshift canopy. 

He likes feeling enclosed and enjoys the insulating effect a canopy creates. Especially during the fall and winter months when the morning air is always chilled. There hasn't exactly been a warm body to assist in providing a sense of security or to snuggle with, but he's managed to create those things on his own. Dim fairy lights have been woven through the shearer fabrics, and he is prepared to argue until he's blue in the face that they aren't a fire hazard since the manufacturer developed the lights specifically for the purpose he's using them for. Thankfully he's always managed to hear word of a pending RA sweeps, because last year his beloved lights were a sore point of contention 

And he's had more than enough contention to tide him over for a while. 

A majority of time has been spent here wallowing in negativity, but he's eager to finally be easing into the space happy with the promise of a good night's rest. When he starts to place his phone to charge is when he notices unread messages waiting for him. 

O: Had a lot of fun with you today. 

A: What're you doing next weekend? 

O: You should come here. 

O: Jackass won't be around to fuck things up. 

A: There’s a ton of stuff we can show you. 

Relaxation snaps from his limbs with a shot, the recoil of his sending him flopping face down into the deepest recesses of his nest. Warmth bursts into his skin all over again, and his ears feel like they're on fire. Attempts to smother himself in some of the denser pillows fail, because every few seconds he pops up to look at the screen only to repeat the cycle again. After several minutes, he's finally able to look at the words burning into his eyes with some degree of calm. 

For all he knows, the text glowing up at him could be innocuous, but, oh but . He can't help but latch onto the possibility of the words having an underlying context. Judging by the fluttering in his stomach, Shouyou instantly knows which of those options he'd prefer. 

He scoffs, turning onto his back while trying to figure out what to reply with. 

A crush. He has a crush. A bona-fide crush. After just meeting someone— two someones.

He's probably getting ahead of himself! Neither of them could be interested in him the way he hopes they might be. As far as he can tell, they very well could just be friendly. Common interests and amenable personalities would make for a great friendship, but there's something that's telling him being more than friends would be fantastic. Not even attempting to explore whether one of them might be interested seems like a huge missed opportunity— the only regret Shouyou can potentially imagine right now would be having to choose between the two. 

After all, there's so much to appreciate about both of them, and he's only known them for a singular day. 

Handsome, kind, funny, considerate…not completely repulsed by the drama that literally unfolded between an ex right in front of them— what more could somebody even ask for in an initial introduction? He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't insanely intrigued about them with those qualities already at the forefront. They're so far ahead of the curve in terms of attractiveness, that all Shouyou can imagine is better things to learn of. 

S: I'm free actually! 

S: Why?? 

Shouyou bites his lip, anxiety spiking when two bouncing ellipses pop up near instantly. His fingers are flying across the screen to send another message before he can filter out the impulse. 

S: Oh! 

S: And Friday after my early class too! 

S: If that works better? 

As soon as he sends the additional replies he wants to smack himself. So many messages in a row, really? And so many exclamation marks? Oh, gods, he probably sounds desperate. Hopefully they don't interpret eagerness with desperation. The ellipses are still bouncing away, though. That's a good sign, right? Oh gods what if they're trying to figure out a nice way to tell him to nevermind? 

A: Pre-season starts for us that day! 

O: You should come watch us. 

A: Game's at 3, but we can watch the women's division before. 

A: I think you'd like watching them

O: We'll get you a ticket if you want? 

O: Ticket's good all day if you're not interested in the women's game. 

A: Up to you. 

O: We watch occasionally but our own practice keeps us busy. 

A: They're competitive though. Have pulled titles every year for the past five years. 

A: Can figure out Saturday then too.

O: Saturday’s still good regardless right? 

Shouyou had shot up into a sitting position after the first two messages popped into view. As more rapidly filtered in he froze in place, waiting on bated breath until the ellipses appeared to have ceased bouncing entirely. A strangled sort of whine worms its way out of his throat as he falls onto his side, still staring at the now still screen. 

Instead of replying, he pulls up his contact list. After a few rings the video call goes through and his friend's surprised face lights up the screen. 

"Shouyou! I'm so glad you— oh, what's wrong?" 

"Can I die from anxiety?" 

"What?" 

Suga's low laugh is comforting. No, just seeing the other omega's calm expression is comforting. Calling this specific omega was a great idea, the best, because Suga is a pillar of reason and good advice. Outside of the influence of his own best friend, at least. Things can get a little dicey when those two are feeding into each other. 

Shouyou knows he's being ridiculous, but he needs somebody to talk him down so can work through the absolute mess his mind is in right now. 

Inhaling deeply, the resulting exhale brings a torrent of words flooding out along with it. Only a few seconds are needed until Suga's eyes start to widen, and if Shouyou wasn't rambling so badly he may have caught the excited tick of his friend's shoulders. A deceptively neutral face distracts him from that, because he's locked onto his friend's calm demeanor. It's the reason he called Suga in the first place, after all. 

Finally he stops talking, more out of a need to breathe than lack of things to say, but the omega peering back at him causes him to pause. Suga is blank-faced and eerily still, far more so than what Shouyou would expect from his friend. For a second Shouyou thinks the call may have frozen, but the connection seems stable. 

"Suga?" 

Oh. Oh no, he's smiling. 

Suga usually turns into a menace right after sporting an expression like that, and oh gosh. If he squints really hard he can sort of tell that his friend might possibly be vibrating in his seat. 

"Shouyou met someone! " 

Somewhere in the background Shouyou can hear a loud crash, followed by loud stomps and an even louder voice. A bead of sweat trails down his temple when he hears the door to Suga's room be forcefully slammed open. Like a train wreck, Shouyou watches, unblinking, as a wild-looking Tooru physically shoves Suga out of the way. For a moment the screen turns into a chaotic blur of movement and sound. The phone on the other end of the mayhem has been flung out of the first omega's hands, and after clunking to the floor there’s a resulting scramble to reclaim the device. 

Tooru's manic looking face is apparently the victor of the scuffle. 

"What? " 

"I'm hanging up," Shouyou says blandly, "I'm hanging up and calling Kenma instead."

Kenma is always awake, but on a Saturday night it will probably take several tries to pry the omega away from his computer screens. That's a risk he's willing to take. He loves Tooru, truly, but his friend is more a hype-man or a tease, depending on his mood. Shouyou would typically gravitate towards that sort of havoc, but right now what he needs is inner peace. 

"You will not. I will drive to your school and break into your window, Shouyou, I swear to—" 

Shouyou has approximately ten seconds of silence to contemplate his existence before his phone is buzzing with an incoming video call. Rejecting the call only results in another one almost as quickly as he can cancel out the first one. Quickly counting to five, he resigns himself to his fate. He really wouldn't put it past Tooru to attempt breaking and entering with how eccentric the man can be at times. 

"You did not just do that." 

"I'm sorry!" Shouyou whines, "I'm about to explode and panicked!" 

To his credit and to Shouyou’s pleasant surprise, Tooru does deflate a little at the admission. He's looking at him now, really looking, and the excited expression morphs into something softer the longer his gaze lingers. Then, in probably the gentlest tone Shouyou has ever heard out of Tooru's mouth: 

"Okay, I'll forgive you, but only on the condition that you start talking." 

"Yeah, we've been worried about you." Suga says, pushing himself back into frame, "Hardly anybody could get you to go anywhere besides class and practice and now…well, we're just excited, is all." 

Shouyou wonders where to even start. Everything he needs to cover has occurred in the span of a day, but the eight month period of seclusion plays heavily into his emotional state, too, and— 

"Starting at the beginning usually helps." 

Shouyou squints at what looks suspiciously like a mimosa in Tooru's hand, but instead of questioning it he actually does as he's told. Speeding through the highlights of his epiphanies on his former relationship and what he knows he wants out of a future one goes by quickly. They don't need to know every detail of that process, but he does go over  the day's events more thoroughly. 

Blessedly, they stay mostly quiet. A few stray questions come his way, and even more non-committal observations, but for the most part the conversation doesn't get derailed too badly. Parsing through all the details with a third party is helpful, and having vocal support of his feelings is appreciated. Makes him feel less ridiculous, less like he’s going to make a complete fool of himself from jumping to conclusions and overthinking. 

He only wishes he would have gotten out of his head sooner and reached out to somebody a long time ago. 

"Horse, water, drink," Suga placates, "We were getting concerned, but we were sure you'd come back eventually." 

"Speak for yourself, I was about a week out from actually kidnapping him." 

Shouyou laughs, "You would." 

"Of course," Good gods , when did Tooru get another glass? "Don't worry about me, what about you? You're going on Friday, right?" 

"And Saturday!" Suga chimes in. 

After a bit more back and forth, they are all in agreement that the twins sound wonderful, and that Shouyou should definitely accept the offer to go see them. On both days. And that no, he doesn't sound desperate. Maybe a little eager, but yes, alphas like that sort of thing. Tobio was just odd, stop comparing. Seriously, stop comparing. Oh, and for the love of the gods, yes, more than likely the twins are both interested in him. 

"How can you even tell?" 

"Are you really questioning my credentials right now?" 

Shouyou stops himself from answering that, and Suga looks so incredibly smug when his jaw snaps shut with an audible click. Tobio may have called him a nasty slur, but if anyone ever embodied the spirit of that term then it would have been Suga several years back. Properly engaged, the omega has settled down plenty, but before Daichi, well, wow. Put simply, if Suga is certain concerning matters like this, then it is probably true. 

"Wouldn’t it be awkward courting one over the other, though?" 

"Babe, who said anything about limiting yourself to just one?" 

"Suga." Shouyou squawks, scandalized. 

"No, no, hear him out. He has a point." 

Speechless. Shouyou is utterly speechless. At some point Suga procured himself a wine glass. Surely this is the ranting of two drunk people. It can't be anything else. 

"I believe the term you're looking for is buzzed ," Quips Tooru, "And we're completely serious right now. Stop having a stroke for two minutes and just think of the possibilities." 

Shouyou is certainly not virginal, but the handful of partners in his past have all been restricted to one at a time. Whether it be courting or purely physically, he's never had any crosshairs to contend with. The idea of two partners, brothers no less— maybe even having both at the same time is…well, it's not a bad idea, that's for sure. 

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Tooru goads. 

"Remind me again of how hot they are?" Suga prompts. 

"Very," Shouyou groans, "Like, it’s stupid how gorgeous they are." 

Shouyou sinks into the plush blanket he has pulled around his shoulders, completely drowning out the other two omega's cackling. 

His mind is sinking right along with his body, and he really doesn't feel like stopping the specific line of thought he's been thrown into. Indulgence in these types of thoughts are long overdue, and now that he's finally come up for air his mind and body is clutching onto what it's been deprived of. 

Shouyo has always tended to gravitate towards pretty boys. Tall pretty boys that coincidentally have all ran lean in their physique. A bit gangly, too, if he’s being honest. Tobio was the most recent pretty boy turned beau, and probably the largest of all his past partners. Still, even during their more charged moments, there was always a lingering sense of incompleteness afterward no matter how many orgasms were ripped from his body. Tobio could easily stretch the length of him and then some, but the alpha lacked the weight to really push and keep him down for very long.

The twins radiate pure masculinity from head to toe, and the contrast between old and new is invigorating to that needy part of himself. The part that longs to be pinned in place and desperate to feel like he’s being crushed beneath an unshakable weight while crying about how much he loves it. 

Height certainly isn’t an issue for them, but they’re also deliciously stocky — powerhouses of raw strength and corded muscle. Sharp jawlines frame out ruggedly handsome faces to complete the look, with eyes that can flip from genteel to fierce in a carefully controlled heartbeat. To be under either of those gazes, at the mercy of their will and arousal sounds divine. Because unlike a certain somebody, the twins don’t seem the type to feel entitled to that sort of leniency simply by nature of their dynamics.  

Either of them could dominate him fully and completely, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it unless he was permitted to. The threat of surrendering control should sound dangerous, but instead all it does is make him shift uncomfortably from the scalding heat slowly seeping between his clenched thighs. 

Shit, he really is tiny compared to them, and acknowledging that fact in a sexual context stirs something hidden deep within the recesses of his hindbrain.

All of his previous partners have been a snug fit, but nothing too egregious. Alphas as big as the twins will surely make his hips creak from trying to squeeze such big bodies between his thighs. Between the two of them he'd beg to be pulled apart from the inside out, to be stretched to his limit with a belly so full of come that it oozes around the knot trying to seal it all away. He'd surely ache for days because of it, his tight little body left gaping in the shape of them to return to and ruined for anybody else. 

He's never really experienced that caliber of debauchery, but a part of him desperately craves it. Needs it. 

Giggling snaps his mind back to present, mortification overtaking him at the way he's being gawked at. He's not ashamed, but they knew what they were doing and are completely unapologetic about it. 

"Ugh, I hate you both so much right now." 

Looks of indignation on his friend’s faces make him want to laugh. Maybe he would. If he could keep his mind out of the gutter for longer than five seconds. Thanks to them, all he can focus on is washboard abdominals and what those thick thighs might look like thrusting— gahhh! 

How is he even supposed to ever look them in the eyes after this? 

"Maybe they'll let you look at something else instead!~" 

Suga apparently considers the statement one of the funniest things he's ever heard out of Tooru in his life, and on that note Shouyou declares that he's going to sleep. A few additional screeches reminding him to actually text the twins back manage to get out of the speaker before Shouyou swipes to end the call. His phone remains silent, the two menaces apparently satisfied with how their chat ended. 

Flustered, Shouyou stares up at his canopy for a moment, questioning his choice of friends. Teasing might as well be a love language to them, and he has missed them and their antics terribly. They really are good at heart, he thinks. After so long away here they were carrying on as if he’s never fallen off the face of the earth to begin with. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t irritated over the slick smeared between his thighs, though.

Embarrassment has decidedly cooled his arousal, leaving him sticky and gross with nothing to show for it other than crankiness. Being forced out his warm nest to take another shower is inconvenient too, and only stretches the night out further. Checking the time after cleaning himself up causes him to startle. Scrambling, he taps rapidly at the screen to return to his messages. What he sees pushes the sleep encroaching into his vision away to full alertness. 

A: Aww, don't leave us on read.  

A: Were we too much? 

O: He's probably asleep. 

O: You're asleep, right? 

A: How's he supposed to answer if he's asleep, stupid? 

O: Oh. 

A: But yeah, he probably is tired. 

A: Did you see how hard he was still going all through practice? Even after filling in for the freshmen? 

O: I was there and I have eyes, so yes

Shouyou couldn't stop the burst of laughter even if he tried. Maybe there is some merit to Suga's assessment. They seem eager, and now that he thinks about it, their scents were increasingly pleasant throughout the day. Enticing almost, but not overbearing or forceful. Enough to catch somebody's attention, but also easily ignored if needed. That sort of pheromone change is intentional, because there's a whole different nuance to it than those that result from an instinctual reaction. 

He smiles, wistful all over again. 

S: Hey I'm so sorry I disappeared!  

S: Friday sounds great! 

S: Saturday too! (: 

The response is near instant, and if Shouyou didn't have high blood pressure before he's sure the twins are going to make him develop the condition. They are excited, maybe even more than him judging by how quickly they rush to cement plans for Friday and figure out time schedules for the train he’ll be arriving on. After that it’s as if they never left campus with how fast the exchanges become, and soon his mouth aches anew from the unrelentingly wide grin it's been carved into.

Time slips away again, and before he knows it the clock reads well past three. 

For the first time in months, he falls into a deep, peaceful sleep. Cuddled up in a cocoon of blankets, Shouyou wakes the following morning far later than usual. The pinging of his phone has woken him, and groggily he looks at the screen after multiple attempts to unlock his screen. 

Two equally sweet missed messages bidding him goodnight are waiting for him, and the new ones that have just been received are to tell him to have a great day.

Chapter Text

Shouyou stares at the clock from his perch high in the lecture auditorium, willing the minute hand to move just a bit faster. He's glad the person who usually sits beside him is absent today. Incessantly bouncing his foot against the floor isn't doing much to contain the thrum of anticipation that the end of this class will bring. As the minute-hand trudges towards the top of the hour, his leg has slowly increased in intensity enough to rattle his desk a little bit.

His phone is burning a hole in his pocket from all of the vibrations being sent directly into his thigh. Various notifications popping in isn’t unusual, but after only a day Shouyou had set a specific type of vibration pattern for incoming texts from either of the twins. All of the incoming messages are from them, and knowing there are unread texts waiting for him is about to drive him nuts. 

The week has passed by relatively quickly and this class is the last thing standing between him and boarding the train to go visit the twins. 

Throughout the week, communication between them has grown more and more frequent. What began as a few scattered messages that first day has steadily increased to near constant contact. Anything from texts, calls, photos, memes. Whatever works best at any given time, at least one of them is interacting with him every few hours. Late nights are usually when discussions are more focused and serious, and during the day is a more chaotic showcasing of their daily lives. 

After a bit of prodding, Shouyou also began sending them pictures of interesting things or random glimpses into what he might be doing at the moment. He’d been hesitant at first, shyly admitting his life was pretty boring, but the encouragement he’d gotten to let them decide if that was true or not finally got him to cooperate. After that, random image swaps soon became just as frequent as regular texts. Like a personal social feed, Shouyou now receives multiple snaps during the day. Anything, really, from their day-to-day to whatever that they felt like sharing. 

Seeing how they saw the world is endearing, because it allows him to parse out more of their differences and preferences— to know them as individuals rather than as a set. 

Shouyou has a younger sibling, and while his relationship with Natsu is leagues different from having a literal doppelganger walking around, he can imagine that being treated as a package deal has probably been hard on them in the past. It's sort of inevitable with siblings, but more so with twins. From what he's gathered, it's always been Atsumu and Osumu, rarely just Osumu or just Atsumu. People tend to automatically group them together, expecting the other sibling to be at arm's length by nature of their siblinghood. 

But they're people, like anybody else. 

Individuals with their own preferences and personalities, skill sets, and weaknesses. Everyone wants to be recognized for their own merits, to be treated as a person rather than grouped together constantly. Being treated otherwise simply because a biological anomaly happened at conception isn't fair to either of them— they are amazing and wonderful as a pair, but just as so as individuals. 

Neither have stated it outright, but Shouyou has inferred that they appreciate being seen for who each of them is rather than some sort of combined consciousness. They may be twins and share certain similarities, but the more Shouyou gets to know them, the more differences he can spot. Discovering just how different they really are has been exceedingly fun the past few days, and he can't wait to be able to keep learning in person rather than through his phone. 

Shouyou wants to believe they're just as eager and curious about him. Alphas aren't usually so chatty without a reason, and even the most mundane of things Shouyou might say invokes a response. Attentiveness is a good sign, he supposes. As is their apparent eagerness— but Shouyou is beyond out of practice, and so much can be misinterpreted when not interacting directly. Body language and interpreting scent fluctuations goes a long way, and without those crutches Shouyou can't help but be a little wary of getting his hopes up. 

These two alphas are so sweet and kind to him, and most times he doesn’t really know how to unpack that sort of behavior. 

Experience isn't exactly doing him any favors in reading this situation. Comparing people isn't something he should be doing, but even a brief comparison makes it blatantly obvious how different the twins are towards him than past romantic interests. Shouyou wasn't even aware he had a type until he stopped to take inventory of the alphas he's been with before— and now that he's thought about it, his taste in men has been sort of messed up.  

Maybe Osumu and Atsumu are less unusual in their behavior and actually more normal. It's Shouyou’s expectations that are skewed, not the other way around. 

It's his own fault, a natural consequence of his best personal quality melding with probably his worst. Stubbornness allowed for his love of people to be taken advantage of willingly by romantic partners. No amount of well-meaning observations by his friends could make him see reason at the time, because Shouyou has always been too caught up in the person he knew the alpha had the potential to be. Too busy chasing after that version only he could see.  

Shouyou likes to find the good in others— even if it takes a flashlight and a magnifying glass to find any sort of redeeming qualities. For relationships, however, he's starting to reconsider that aspect of himself. Evaluating what sort of expectations he should have is long overdue, because obviously those standards never really existed in the first place. 

Slowly coming to grips with his own ignorance would have been preferable to the whiplash of figuring it out over the course of a week, but Shouyou guesses he can’t really control the circumstances. Part of him is just thankful it’s happened at all, and the other is very pleased that two incredibly attractive alphas are the inspiration for his personal paradigm shift. 

So far he’s come to the conclusion that it's okay for a partner to not be perfect, because nobody is. A partner acknowledging their faults and actively trying to work on being better would also be commendable, respectable. But, and a major but in all of this, it shouldn't be Shouyou’s responsibility to compensate for bad traits or constantly make excuses for problematic behaviors. He certainly shouldn't have to convince himself that just dealing with his needs not being met or even acknowledged is healthy or normal. 

Because it's not, and he deserves so much better. 

Realizing how complacent he's been is frustrating, because gods. Wasting so much of his time on alphas who couldn't be bothered to even half-ass a little bit of time for his sake— ugh! Stupid, so stupid . It's honestly kind of sad that, in just under a week, the twins have given more of themselves than any committed partner ever has over an extended period of time.

Shouyou isn't really sure if that makes him the pathetic one or the alphas that he's courted. Maybe both. The only difference is that he's promised himself he won't settle any longer. It's not fair to him when he wants to give so much of himself, but not receive remotely the same degree of effort in return.

And, yeah, it’s been a week, and he has to keep reminding himself of that…but the twins have certainly been giving a ton of effort. 

They’re funny and kind and chaotic in the best sort of ways, and Shouyou can literally feel his old self coming back to life the more he gets to know them. It’s silly and way, way, way too early to be making the sorts of assumptions that he is, but Shouyou feels like they bring out the best in him. His own achilles heel has been turned against him, and finally being able to experience effort being poured into him is just… gahh , he can’t even put it into words other than it makes his chest ache and his mind short circuit. 

For whatever reason, they seem to favor his boisterous nature and enjoy bringing his affinity towards being free-spirited out as much as possible. For the longest time, only that aspect of himself emerged during team practices. Pushing thoughts of alphas and simply cooperating with Tobio was easiest during game play, carving a path for his suppressed personality to come bustling to the forefront to blow off some much needed steam. 

Volleyball is something he's always been passionate about, and interpersonal problems won't stop him from the utter joy and elation that participating in his favorite sport provides— even the frustration and pain, less savory aspects of falling short of glory, are precious to him. He’s always felt the most alive while on the court, and during all those months of struggle, those times were the only time he was able to be himself. 

Osumu and Atsumu saw a glimpse of his true nature after he joined as a substitute libero, then witnessed it in spades during the joint practice between their respective teams. Over the span of a week, the two have proven to be completely unbothered by an omega like himself. One that’s loudmouthed, boisterous, and opinionated— all things an omega traditionally is not, but traits they seem to enjoy provoking out of him just to see more of. 

Playfully, of course. Any sort of provocation has been mischievous, at best. Negative intent has never underlaid any of their attempts to rile him, only genuine delight in seeing his face light up in response to teasing or emboldened contributions to defending stances in silly debates. 

Shouyou is so happy to have met these alphas. They’re each a breath of fresh air, one he didn't know he was suffocating for in the first place until he broke out of his own head and bad habits. 

Another buzz rattles against his leg, sending his heart fluttering right along with it. 

A strangled sort of sound worms its way up his throat, and to stifle the sound he leans forward to press his face into his crossed arms. He stays like that for a moment, staring at his horrible penmanship and trying to decipher what the weird loops he's scratched onto the paper could possibly mean. Whatever he’s written contains both dots and crosses, completely illegible and complete with a squiggled ending. 

Shouyou should be fine. Most of the content being covered today is a review for him since he read ahead of the syllabus earlier in the week. Visiting the twins will forfeit the time he would have spent reading for this class, so he wanted to be prepared. Still, if he had thought to scribble something down it was probably important, or at least a piece of information that he hadn't picked up on while studying. Oh well. 

In the background the professor drones on, either not caring that a student is possibly taking a nap during lecture or simply not noticing amongst the sea of faces crowded into the lecture hall. Even above the din of the professor's monotone voice, the slow clunking of the clock sounds like a mallet striking against some dull surface. Time is moving slower than it should be, it has to be true. It feels like he should have been on the train hours ago, but instead there’s at least a half-hour remaining until this session is dismissed. 

Bored, he's so bored . He was ready to go as soon as his butt hit the seat at the start of class. Continuing to remain in place is torture. 

Unable to resist any longer, he snakes one arm into his pocket to grasp at the phone stowed away there. Opening the lock screen to scroll through all the messages left for him makes him smile. 

O: It's almost time for you to leave right? 

A: Have you gotten on the train yet?

A: We're gonna meet you there. 

O: Which train are you taking again? 

O: The schedule isn’t adding up.

A: Are you hungry?

A: When you get here we can get food on the way back to campus if you want? 

O: There's a few shops that sell nikuman that you’ve said you like.  

Shouyou tilts his head up, peaking over the arm that’s been sheltering his face. The professor is still going strong at the podium, too preoccupied with pointing at the screen projection and adding anecdotes to the subject matter. Despite that, Shouyou has absolutely no idea where they are as far as the presentation goes, but whatever. The information on the wall is all comfortably familiar, even if the order used to present the content makes no sense to him. One little mysterious scribble still taunting him won't make or break his grade, and fortunately he has a big enough buffer in case whatever he deemed important enough to write down comes up later on examination. 

S: Food sounds good! I didn’t eat much for breakfast.

O: Is that code for nothing at all? 

S: Yes  

A: !!!

A: It’ll be time for lunch by the time you get here!

Skipping breakfast isn't something he wanted to do, honestly. His protesting stomach can confirm that. Lines at the food court had been too long, and he didn’t want to be caught entering this lecture hall late. 

The professor for this class has been known to single people out on entry and continue to call on them frequently as retribution for daring to be tardy. Shouyou is confident about the material, but quiet examinations and verbally answering in front of a packed hall are two vastly different experiences— it makes his tongue feel like jelly just thinking about it. He can play in front of a packed stadium just fine, but on the spot public speaking? Yeah, no thanks. 

Before he can begin to defend himself, messages begin flooding in reminding him he needs to eat properly. It makes him flush a little, because this type of concern, outside of his friends, is so different from what he's accustomed to. Tobio would get mad if he skipped meals, sure, but usually there was some sort of derisive comment about his intelligence tagged on to the alpha's tirade. 

S: I'll get a snack on the train! Promise!

S: After the lecture is over!  

A: Oh crap, sorry! 

O: We thought your classes were over already, didn't mean to distract you. 

A: Let us know when you’re on your way

S: I will!

S: But the Crypt Keeper is still going strong 

S: [img.png] 

Shouyou flips his phone to silent after that. Face up, he can see the screen repeatedly light up with the brother's incoming reactions. The professor down below has probably been an academic longer than Shouyou has been alive with no plans of retirement any time soon. Unfortunately, instead of growing kind and sweet with old age, the old alpha is the complete opposite. 

"You're pretty popular today." 

The girl one row down glances at him from over her shoulder. A fellow omega, she has a gentle scent and demeanor, and all of their limited interactions have been polite. Shouyou has spoken to her a handful of times, usually to help with filling in a missed statement for her notes and vice versa. It’s not a whole lot to go on, but for what it’s worth, she seems fairly nice. 

"Alphas," He says, shrugging, "Sorry, I put them on silent " 

"Oh, don't worry" She says, waving, "I tuned out ages ago, just waiting to leave at this point." 

Shouyou snorts and she giggles. The professor abruptly snaps at both of them, inquiring if they find the subject matter amusing. Dead silent, Shouyou can feel a cold sweat break out on his nape. So many eyes are on him. Resting peacefully this week has been nice, but he'll probably have a nightmare about this tonight. 

"No, no sir." He calls sharply.  

"If you two cannot be respectful of your peers and sit quietly, then you may leave." 

Shouyou blinks. The blond girl is ash-white and frozen in her seat, stuttering an apology as the professor looks on. He sort of feels bad for what he’s about to do. Leaning forward, he uses one palm against the side of his mouth to help carry his voice.  

"Have a good weekend!" He whisper-yells to her. 

Those brown eyes turn into saucers, then he flees. Being near the top row has its advantages, enabling him to make a quick getaway after slinging his bag over his shoulder and booking it out of the row. He can hear the professor screeching for order as the room erupts in laughter being sealed away by the door shutting behind him. 

Free at last, Shouyou puts his legs to good use by blazing a trail down several flights of stairs to the main entrance of the building. Laughter bubbling from his mouth makes him feel lighter than air, and the blast of cool fall air as he breaches main doors is exhilarating. He knows he's not being pursued, but the adrenaline rush pushes him to sprint away as fast as he can. 

As he slows to a walk, Shouyou unlocks his screen. He taps the name who responded most recently, and almost immediately his call is accepted. A crown of blond fills the screen before Atsumu's face comes into focus. Shouyou smiles, Atsumu smiles, Osumu's hand connects with his brother's skull to crowd into the frame. The former has a half-eaten onigiri in one hand, his cheeks puffed out and clearly full. 

He laughs again, body still thrumming and heart fluttering. Atsumu's deep voice floods into his ear from the bud wedged into place, the tenor of it sending pleasant vibrations down his spine. 

"Are you on your way?”

"Ah, no," He says, "I'm on my way back to drop off my stuff first, but you’ll never believe what just happened…”

Once the barrier to moving past simple texting to pictures was crossed, transitioning to video calls happened surprisingly fast afterward. He almost had a heart attack the first time one of the brothers tried calling him and then a stroke when a video call came in later the same day, but now he's comfortable talking with them this way. Prefers it, really. 

Not having scent available to gauge how the brother’s react is awful, but a direct visual feed bridges some of the lost body language that basic phone calls miss out on. Plus, there’s the added bonus of the two being nice to look at in general. 

He keeps the call active as he shuffles up the stairs to his dorm building. Distantly, he notes that whenever he takes calls in or around his dorm the two seem to perk up a little more. It’s only natural, Shouyou supposes. 

Omega-only dorms are regulated by the government to meet safety standards. Every school is a little different on their protocols, but for the most part most guidelines are pretty similar across university campuses. Alphas are generally allowed in these spaces due to dynamic equality laws, but the alpha cannot be left unattended and be with an omega friend or courtmate at all times. Common areas are more preferable to actual living spaces, as most omegas tend to be jittery with alphas loitering around private spaces where their nests are housed. 

Curiosity on any alpha's part is to be expected, but the way attention sharpens and faces smoosh closer into the screen, as if it will give a clearer view, trips some sort of deeply ingrained instinct to life. They've had late-night video calls before but he's always had a background filter on to conceal his nest-space or occasionally in one of the common areas of the dorm. 

Shouyou is a fairly open person, but maintaining a bit of privacy as far as his nest is concerned is one instinctual imperative he rarely fights. An explanation of that was readily accepted when one of them asked, and the respect that acceptance carried only endeared Shouyou to the brother's more. Every other alpha, Tobio in particular, continued to pester him about it periodically until he was finally comfortable letting them have access to it, but the twins have yet to bring it up again.

They've been nothing but considerate, so he thinks that they've earned a glimpse of his nest. Showing off the place he feels safest, most at ease, to two attractive alphas makes his chest ache from how wildly his heart thunders beneath his ribs. Rapt alpha attention concerning nests is good, hints that an omega is desirable in a manner more than just a friend or acquaintance. 

He deposits the phone on his desk, popping the kickstand from the backing so they aren't left staring at his ceiling. The angle provides a view to the majority of his room, and quickly he moves away. With any luck the mic will not have picked up on the trill trying to start in his chest once he realizes the sort of reaction he was hoping for is the one he's received. 

His nest is more off to the side, but as soon as the phone is stable that's where their attention is immediately directed. It's as if their gazes are magnetized to that spot, and in addition to battling the vibrations in his chest he's now at the mercy of his heated skin— flushed, instinctually pleased and personally a little giddy. After a second, Shouyou speaks, and the way attention wavers between his nest and himself makes his face flush hotter. 

"I, um, I can let you go if you need me to," He says, "I'll be on my way in a minute—" 

Protests are instant, as he suspected they would be, assuring him that staying on the call until he reaches the station is no problem. Shouyou turns so that the goofy smile splitting his face can't be seen. He busies himself with putting away his things, emptying his bag of books and binders. 

"Are those lights?" Osumu asks, curious. 

"Yeah, aren't they pretty?" 

"You afraid of the dark or something?" 

Judging by the sharp sound and low grumbles that follow, Shouyou is fairly sure Osumu has smacked his brother for the comment. Looking over his shoulder confirms his assumption, the blond alpha in question rubbing at his shoulder with a petulant expression on his face. Shouyou snorts, turning back to his closet to continue plucking the outfit he wants to wear from various hangers. A thought crosses his mind, intrusive and swift, and true to his own impulsivity, the words come spilling out. 

"I dunno, maybe," He says, stooping to collect a pair of shoes, "Why? Wanna keep all the monsters away for me?" 

Turning to glance at his phone is a sight, but he doesn’t give himself the time to study the flustered expressions that his statement has caused. If he does he'll probably only end up ending the call in a panic, and he doesn't want to have to do that just yet. Smiling sweetly— as if he hasn’t just said what he has, he turns the phone away from himself. 

Inside he's screaming, and hidden away from view he can really lean into the rush. Slack jawed expressions are committed to memory, as are the sputtering attempts to spit out an appropriate reply after he spins out of view. Questions as to his whereabouts come out much more distinctly, causing him to bite at his lower lip to try and contain the grin overtaking his face— how can two alphas be so hot and so cute at the same time? 

"I'm changing." Shouyou explains, voice level. 

"Oh." 

He's not really sure where his boldness is coming from all of a sudden, but his next statement slips free of his lips before his mind can try to filter the statement out.

"Oh? You want to help me with that too?" 

One of them is choking, their windpipe gurgling around water or spit, maybe even both. The loud pop of a hand against a heaving back followed by a coughing gasp is reassuring. Fairly confident he hasn’t heard one of the alphas asphyxiate to death, he carries on with dressing. Red in the face, he’s shocked at himself now that the moment has passed. Still, the need to prevent awkwardness from setting in overrides his desire to clam up in favor of speaking once more.

"Everything alright over there?" 

"Peachy!" "No.” "Shut up!" 

For what it's worth, Atsumu doesn't sound very peachy at all with the way he keeps roughly clearing his throat. Shouyou says as much as he turns the phone back around to peer down at the screen. Both alpha's have a dusting of pink across the bridge of their noses, Atsumu a little more so. His dark tee is noticeably wet with whatever the alpha had been trying to drink previously.  

"Alright, if you say so," He says, "Well, I think I'm about ready. You're sure you don't mind staying on the phone while I go to the station?" 

"Positive." "Nope!" 

Shouyou smiles, fingers working up the buttons of his overcoat, "Okay." 

What he's selected is simple, comfortable but not so casual that it appears no effort went into coordinating his clothing. Because he did, via a panicked text to Tooru after saying goodnight to the twins last night and seeing the abysmal options remaining of his clean laundry. Dressed down with a pair of white chucks, dark fitted jeans and gray sweater contrast with his cream colored overcoat. Simple, easy, totally doesn't look like he's been shirking laundry duty— 

After a brief scan around his room, he makes a point to slip on a pair of leather gloves before collecting his keys and train card. Then he leaves, waving to a few of his neighbors that have opted to keep their doors open as he passes through the hall. 

Autumn is in full swing, a blast of cold air swoops in to greet him as he steps outside. He pulls the collar of his coat a little tighter with his free hand, laughing as the twins tease him— something about being careful of strong gusts because he might get whisked away with how small he is. 

"Guess I should've grabbed my scarf…oh it's not that bad!" He says when they fuss, "The station isn't far and—" 

Shouyou slows, head whipping around. 

He's heard his name called, and explains as much when questioned about what he's looking for. The pathway he's on doesn't have any foot traffic besides himself and the person he now sees several paces away. 

Eyes narrowing, a deep frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. He was having such a good day, too, geeze. Head down, Shouyou resumes walking at a much brisker pace. The sudden change doesn’t go unnoticed, and quickly questions fill his ear as his pace quickens slightly. 

"Ahh, yeah," He replies, “Yeah, I’m fine! No, really I’m—”

Another call of his name reaches him, and the voice his namesake is carried upon pulls a shrill whine from his throat. The volume of his name is louder this time, closer , and his pulse kickstarts with the knowledge that he's being pursued. He's not afraid of Tobio, but instincts roar to life under the reality that an alpha is purposefully following him that he has no interest in. 

Gosh, he doesn't have time for this— and even if he did, dealing with his ex isn't something he really wants to do at all. 

"Shouyou?"  

He wants to scream, because this is the first time either of the twins have dared to call him by his given name. Usually people need to ask to be on a first-name basis, but the impropriety doesn't bother him at all. A weird sort of pain twists at his chest, heart trying to squeeze up happily while simultaneously trying to keep a fresh supply of adrenaline thrumming through his blood. Both alphas are calling to him now, and all it does is pull another shrill sound between his teeth.  

"Are you alright?" 

"Shouyou talk to us." 

A shriek overwhelms the words on the tip of his tongue, purely reactionary to the pressure at his elbow. Light pressure at the joint causes him to jerk away, the touch sending unpleasant sparks up his arm from the unwanted contact. He thinks he may have heard a few growls spill through the singular earbud he has in, but he doesn't have time to figure out if it was the twins or even himself making the sound. 

"Sho, just— oi , Shouyou will you slow down for a second?"

Hearing Tobio say his name again makes his stomach churn. The gruff tone wrapped around the syllables of his name don't sound nearly as nice as it does in either of the twins' voices. Unlike the warm, honeyed tenor of the twins, his namesake feels like sandpaper against his eardrums when spoken in Tobio’s intonation. 

Feet dragging to a stop, he tries to mentally brace himself for whatever Tobio is going to say. His name is said once again, and reflexively his shoulders bunch up to try and block some of the sound. Fingers grazing at his shoulder are shrugged off, and thankfully Tobio has enough social graces to back off from the rebuff. 

Shouyou has been avoiding any type of unnecessary interaction for months, constantly side-stepping the alpha and making accommodations when he really shouldn’t have to. Anything to avoid having to speak casually to the alpha, to avoid having to look him in the face and not spiral into those stupidly blue eyes. Because he’s done it before, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to do it again.

Inconvenience and seclusion aside, the tactic has worked. 

Other than team practices, he and Tobio simply do not talk to one another. Even during practices, communication is limited to shouts for plays or as part of mixed commentary with the team. Quick getaways after practice have always prevented any additional interaction, and he prefers to keep it that way. On campus, aside from occasional run-ins, Shouyou has managed to avoid crossing paths with the alpha as well— which is perfectly fine considering his last major incident with Tobio and how that whole thing panned out. 

The most Shouyou has said to Tobio over the last several months was when they happened to cross paths at the library. Only a few weeks after calling it quits, isolation had already been increasing as a coping mechanism. That day, however, Shouyou had been forced to seek out a hard copy of a reference text he needed for an assignment. The particular volume he needed wasn’t available in digital format, so venturing out of his nestspace was a necessity.

Packed as the library is, big alphas like Tobio only make the narrow aisles all the more smaller and harder to navigate. The textbook he happened to need was at the end of the row with no other way to reach it. He's still kind of mad he needed assistance to reach the damn thing. Tobio was the person who helped him, and he wasn’t strong willed enough back then not to succumb to the alpha’s charms.  

A one-night stand with his ex is something he never had on his ‘dumb life milestones’ bingo card, but at the time the breakup was so fresh that Shouyou was still delusional enough to believe that maybe reconciliation was possible. 

It wasn’t. 

A hastily scribbled note on his desk made that perfectly clear.

Tobio is the reason he burned every last blanket and pillow of his old nest. Was the reason why he drenched the room in caustic neutralizing chemicals after the fact.  It didn’t matter that the room would eventually air out after a few days— he needed every trace of it gone. At that point, ridding his space of the pheromonal evidence of his mistake needed to happen as quickly as possible. 

Everything needed to go, in fact.

Scent, photos, left-behind items, old courting gifts. He trashed it all in a fit, angry and bereft all at the same time— he had been used , and he swore he’d never let it happen again. 

Charged ozone and tension felt branded into his nose, the telling signs of an impending rut. 

Abject horror set in after that, because their cycles had been synched for so long. Alphan rejection of an omega on the eve of their rut is not insignificant, so all Shouyou could do was ride out the rest of the day and cry when he felt pre-heat seeping into his bones. Shouyou subsequently spent his first unaccompanied heat in ages in a threadbare nest and room that felt like the walls were closing in. Devoid of scent and materials, his space was practically sterile— and not since his presentation heat had a cycle ever felt so cold and frightening.

The memory sits bitter in his mouth, because he vividly remembers repeatedly crying out for an alpha that wasn't there and wouldn't be answering to his calls. 

His heart is hammering in its cage, trying to claw its way up his throat— he hates this. The library was a coincidence and their tryst a gross misjudgment. But this…this is a purposeful interaction. One that Tobio has initiated, and that only triggers white hot indignation. 

"What do you want?" He snaps, words curt in his mouth as he whirls about-face. 

"Sho, I— can, uh, can we talk?"

"No, I'd rather not." 

The response is immediate and sharp, and Shouyou takes satisfaction in the way Tobio looks at him hesitantly. Confusion softens the alpha's natural tendency to scowl, those blue eyes of his seemingly assessing the best way to continue interacting with an agitated omega. 

Silence stretches between them, both at an impasse as they stare at each other. 

Shouyou doesn't own a wrist watch, but he can practically hear the rhythmic ticking of one inside of his head. Time is slipping away, slowly but surely, and every second wasted standing here jeopardizes the chances of arriving at the station before the train leaves the platform. His hand grips around his phone, a tangible reminder of the schedule he needs to hit to make the line changeovers. 

"I gotta go." 

Walking away feels liberating, because Shouyou just isn’t the type of person to walk away from others. Giving up on people just isn’t his thing, but Shouyou’s beginning to think he has been a fool the entire time with that sort of mindset. 

"Look I— I'm sorry, alright?" 

That has his feet cementing themselves to the ground. All he can do is gawk at the alpha, momentarily stunned. 

Sorry for what Shouyou doesn't exactly know. A part of him doesn't even want to know. 

"Thanks, I guess."  

There's a whole lot Tobio should be sorry for, and a two second, half-assed apology doesn't even begin to encompass all the things Tobio should be making amends for. In fact, scrambling like this is pretty on brand for the alpha. 

Shouyou has lived this pattern far too many times— fighting always led to some sort of half-assed apology, which turned into a sex as the main patchwork to whatever issue was plaguing their relationship in any given week. The truly frightening part is that if he hadn't met the twins the way that he did, he very well may have fallen for this again. Ended up right back in Tobio's bed with his legs spread and heart open— knowing, intuitively, that it would be crushed all over again but pretending that wouldn't happen with just one more chance. 

Constantly spinning wheels on misguided hopes and empty promises sounds exhausting in retrospect, and Shouyou really can't fathom how he managed to keep his head stuck in the sand for so long before. 

"I'm serious, Sho," Tobio tries again, "C'mon, you know I'm bad at this kind of thing." 

Shouyou scoffs, unimpressed. Verbalizing the obvious isn't doing Tobio any favors. Shouyou is very aware of the emotional constipation Tobio suffers from. Too aware, really.  

"I was a dick, okay? I shouldn't have said what I said." 

Ah, so this is about last week then. 

"No, you shouldn't have," Shouyou agrees, "Is that all? I have somewhere I need to be." 

He glances at his phone to check the time, then at the two alphas who have remained practically glued to the screen. Shouyou sighs, crossing his eyes with a small tilt of his head to visually display how annoyed he currently is. It seems to alleviate them a bit. Tense expressions meld into something a little less so, shoulders slump slightly. 

"Really, Sho? That's all you're gonna say?" 

"And what am I supposed to say?" 

"I dunno, I just thought…I miss you. Us. You do too, right?" 

He shrugs a bit, gaze unwavering from Tobio's own deep blue. Truthfully, his heart is stinging a bit, like a fishing hook has caught in it and is trying to reel him in. Old habits die hard, and the pattern he and Tobio fell into definitely became a habitual response rather than a heartfelt reconciliation. Tobio never grew from the forgiveness granted to him, only came to expect it. 

Shouyou isn't any better— wasn't. Willful ignorance is gone now, because he's so tired of hurting. It hurt then and it still hurts now, but Shouyou knows he'll only be signing himself up for more pain if he keeps going back to Tobio. He deserves better, and Tobio doesn't deserve the tears that Shouyou knows will come after they inevitably fall apart again. 

Loneliness was something Shouyou never thought someone like himself would ever tangle with, but for nearly a year that’s what he’d been dealing with. Eight months was the official count for how long he and Tobio have been split, but that relationship started deteriorating long before they finally called it quits. It would have been funny if it weren’t so sad, because who would have thought he could feel alone when someone with a presence like Tobio was snoring right beside him. 

Warmth and affection dried up faster than a desert after a thunderstorm, and boy was there plenty of lightning shared between them. It just took way too long for a bolt to finally strike so everything could come crashing down. Clear skies always come after a bad storm though, and Shouyou can’t help but smile a little at the notion that he may have finally found some sunshine again. 

"Geeze, what a tool." 

"He doesn't do this shit regularly, right?" 

"Oh, ahh, no— seriously, no, he doesn't usually bother me like this…I dunno know what his problem is, honestly." 

"I— are you on the phone right now, Shouyou?" Tobio has the gall to look upset, as if he’s owed Shouyou’s undivided attention, as if Shouyou wants to give that to him, “With who?” 

"Hinata," Shouyou corrects, "And that's really none of your business." 

“Hin— what ?” 

Again with the disbelieving expression, the audacity to appear hurt. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, I’m not anything to you anymore,” Shouyou says, "Look, I appreciate the apology but I don't need it, I—" 

Tobio moves to step closer, and Shouyou matches the pace by moving backwards at the same time. A request to not be touched comes out a little less firm than he wanted, but it does halt the outstretched arms trying to grab onto him. Tobio makes several declarations of remorse and love, but the words go unheeded.

“No. You don’t get to do this, Kageyama,” He says, “Try to walk back into someone’s life like nothing happened, like I didn’t spend the last eight months crying over you? As if you didn’t seriously fuck me up in the head over the shit you pulled?”

“We can talk about this, tell me what I need to do, Sho.”  

Growling is thundering into his ear. Although he can hear the angry noise just fine through his ear bud, visual confirmation is unavoidable. The needy part of himself wants to see if for himself, see if actions are matching the colorful commentary flooding into his ear. He can feel heat dusting across his face when he brings his screen back to eye level. Each of them looks livid, and part of Shouyou is dying to find out what they smell like in their anger. 

He coos at them, enthralled by the way a few distinctly omegan sounds can bleed the tension from those broad shoulders and loosen stiff expressions into something more relaxed. 

Movement reminds him that Tobio is still standing there. Cutting a glance over the edge of his phone, he addresses the alpha one last time. 

“It’s too late for that. Just— I gotta go, okay?”

As he turns on his heel to leave, Tobio doesn’t call after him or pursue him. Glancing over his shoulder before he descends a short length of steps confirms that the alpha remains standing where he was left. Shouyou wants to feel bad, but he has brighter days to look forward to. Remaining under a thundercloud will only bring rain, and Shouyou is so tired of gloomy days without sunshine on the horizon. 

He just barely makes the train time he initially planned on. 

Skidding into the car as the doors are shutting draws several disapproving looks, but he ignores them. Two alphas are celebrating how fast someone so short was able to sprint. As he ends the call, Shouyou can’t help but compare the two faces beaming back at him to the bright sunshine beginning to peek through overcast clouds.

Chapter Text

Shouyou slouches a bit in his seat to make himself more comfortable. Tucked away in one of the higher rows, he has an elevated vantage point of the court. Down below the game is progressing nicely, steadily. 

Sharp, short whistles from the overseeing referees come at regular and predictable intervals. The scorecount rises in tandem without much fluctuation or breakout points. Neither side seems overly taxed at the moment, every player keeping pace, unhurried. Spectators look on leisurely, mostly chatting amongst themselves or loitering about the facility until a turning point might be reached so as to capture their undivided attention. 

It’s a shame, really, because there’s a whole lot to observe if somebody knows what to look for. 

Particularly, two alpha twins who are most definitely expending way more energy than is necessary at this point in the set order. Not even two games in, and already there have been several flamboyant plays orchestrated by the pair. 

If not for the lack of boisterous reaction that typically follows grand athletic feats, those occasional displays might even be classified as a spectacle. 

Those instances drew attention from spectators, certainly, but reactions were mostly bewilderment. 

For a team renowned for their discipline and strategy, the abrupt and seemingly impulsive displays are completely at odds with what sort of performance enthusiasts would expect. There's a murmuring swell in the stands, attention diverted from casual conversation to the rapid movement starting up below. 

Another grandiose set of actions is in motion, and happily, the chaotic maneuvering results in a kill for the twin's team. The opposing team appears just as bewildered as the delayed and scattered clapping in the grandstands. Shouyou chuckles, smiling and flashing a thumbs up when attention in the form of grey and brown irises is directed his way from below. 

Others may be confused, but Shouyou isn’t. 

Wistful, Shouyou hides the upturned corners of his mouth behind the thick scarf Atsumu had gifted to him earlier. Heat is dusting at the apples of his cheeks, but Shouyou is remiss to remove the dense fabric from about his neck, and, subsequently, away from his nose. A mixture of pheromones are able to surround him this way, because both of the twins have scented the gift— and if Shouyou thought the twins smelt pleasant before, the deliberate nature of a scented gift is incomparable. 

The scents deeply embedded into the fabric are distinctive, but not overwhelming. Shouyou isn't a scent connoisseur or anything, but even he can tell that deliberate control was involved in scentmarking the scarf. Scented items are a hallmark courting gift, carrying ingrained connotations that can't possibly be mistaken for anything else. 

Snuffing out compatibility is one aspect, but also the underlying knowledge that accepted gifts will typically be incorporated into a nestspace. It's a point of pride for alphas to take stock of how many scented gifts have been stockpiled into a nest after gaining access. Eagerness can be a double-edged sword at times— it tends to push alphas into being overzealous, especially when initially scenting items to gift.

Heaven knows Shouyou has sidelined so many first, second, and fifth gifts in his past because of how potent the items were. 

Not this gift, though. 

No, his scarf is perfectly balanced— steadfast and strong, but not overbearing. There's no cutting edge, either. No indication of a competition or scuffle in how the individual oils have been allocated into the surface area, only a deliberately coordinated distribution of a heady, attractive musk that has him pulling the fabric repeatedly back to his face. Rich and soothing and controlled, it’s the sort of thing he'd like to fall asleep with clutched to his chest, his nose. 

First-gift acceptance is inconsistent among omegas, and typically leans towards symbolic reception. It's not unusual to find initial courting gifts displayed somewhere far away from a nest, or in storage entirely, from just how forward some alphas can be with their intent. 

Knowing the twins took all that into consideration, made an effort from the start, it— it causes a warm warble to threaten to strike up in his throat.  

It almost feels surreal. 

Shouyou blinks back to the present, eyes a little hazy from the bright light suddenly invading his vision again. 

Another whistle cracks through the air, reverberating harshly in the hollow gymnasium. 

It's a different sort of sound, one punctuated by a specific arm motion by the presiding referee and grumbling shouts of the twin's head coach. 

Although he's far too distant to make sense of the rapidly delivered words, Shouyou has some guesses as to what the portly alpha is so ruffled about.

Players going against the team's training is a perplexing problem for a coach, and clearly the man is attempting to course-correct before the two men have a chance to burn themselves out before the third set. 

Shouyou snorts, watching as the twins trudge over and feign interest. 

A person can yell until they're blue in the face, but no amount of words or reasoning will stop an alpha from posturing after the decision has been made to do so. Clearly, posturing is exactly what Atsumu and Osumu are doing. 

Non-aggressive posturing, but posturing nonetheless. 

It can't be anything else, and the more Shouyou observes and considers, the more enthralling a prospect it all becomes. They've been working so hard, and the contrast between them and their fellow teammates is striking. Covered in sweat, those black jerseys cling to those broad shoulders to showcase strong cuts of muscle beneath. A glimpse of equally cut abdominals can be seen when hemlines are used to dab at their jawlines as they saunter back into position. 

Purposeful, all of it. 

The smug little grin Atsumu throws over one shoulder in his direction practically screams his suspicions as truth. As is the way Osumu wrangles him back to focus, back to the shared goal of flaunting talent and strength, to monopolize one singular person's attention out of a packed crowd. 

Giddiness bubbles more intensely with each passing moment, each display and culmination of the day's events. He'd probably be vibrating right out of his seat if not for the overriding omegan desire to sit still and pretty for a pair of posturing alphas wasn't so great. 

Shouyou never thought he'd see a day where he wanted a volleyball game to reach its conclusion early, but after a day spent in the twins' company it's all he can think about. There should be enough time afterwards for a proper meal, for precious time to be spent in their direct company rather than the ridiculous amount of space between them now. He's sort of dreading walking back to the station, because that means it will be the end of the day. 

Two round trips in one day sounds a bit excessive on paper, but truly Shouyou doesn't mind. A long train ride will give him the time needed to process everything, mull it over and build anticipation for tomorrow. So much has happened already, and the prospect of piecing together little details that he's surely missed is thrilling. He might not even sleep tonight from how enamored he is, how smitten. 

Another shrill whistle sounds, followed by a whoop he recognizes in a specific tenor. He smiles, chest near to bursting when, yet again, there's a glance thrown his way. Short-lived, as the portly coach fusses and screams despite the point that has edged their team in the lead once more. 

Attention diverted for now, Shouyou thumbs at the small box in his hands, skims his fingertips over the wooden lacquer secured with a plain, stretchy band. The contents inside, delicious as they are, have only been partially consumed. There had been a bit too much stuffed into the bento, but Shouyou couldn't convince either of the alphas to share. The two were adamant that he was the one who needed to eat and not themselves, seeing as he skipped breakfast. 

The scarf draped about his neck wasn't the only gift he'd received today, and the two items he's been given are directly tied to courtship behavior. Cold weather and forgetting his own, a gift had been provided to assure his warmth and comfort. Breakfast skipped and hungry, food had been procured at an alpha's expense. Not just any food either, for Osumu had taken it upon himself to prepare something personally. 

Shouyou giggles, fondly remembering Atsumu's insistence that he helped and Osumu's pointed objection that sneaking samples is not helping. 

He's not really supposed to, but he sneaks a piece of rolled egg from the top layer, careful not to spill any of the remaining rice before securing the lid back in place. It's good, great even. On par with his mother's cooking, only seasoned a little more for extra flavor. He hums, happy and content and completely ignoring a person several seats down giving him a disapproving glance for eating while in the gymnasium. 

It's not unheard of for an alpha to cook for their omega, but also not overly common. Modernity has given way to far more convenient options, so Osumu taking the time to personally prepare a small meal just for him spoke volumes. Especially considering several of his favorites are among the offerings— proof enough that all those little throw-away comments during the week were heard and remembered.  

When he deigns to look up, his breath hitches slightly. 

A pair of slate blue eyes are practically boring a hole into his skull, rapt and focused and pulling more heat into the edges of his ears, the bridge of his nose. He's been caught red-handed in his inattentiveness, and if he were within earshot a plaintive whine would have been his way of apologizing. Purposefully ignoring a posturing display was not his intention, so he tries another method to convey that. 

Heart pounding, Shouyou quickly frees the band securing the box closed, and, after a split moment offers up a slight tilt of the contents in the alpha's direction. Even from far away, Osumu likely will be able to infer that the inner hull is empty or close to it. Preoccupation with a previous gift is a good sort of distraction to posturing alphas, and Shouyou is banking on Osumu's talent for astuteness in making that conclusion. 

A rush of relief sails from his lungs when the action seems to pacify. Tension eases from those drawn back shoulders and eye contact breaks away. The former can probably be attributed to Atsumu roughly slinging an arm over Osumu's nape and yanking the other closer, but who is Shouyou to judge from this distance. Words are briefly exchanged and then Atsumu’s gaze is pointed skyward, a handsome sort of grin, sly and ruggish, stretched between his teeth. 

Forget fluttering, his chest feels as though a hand had woven beneath his sternum and twisting at his poor heart. Blessedly, the moment doesn't last for long— the referee is signaling that it's time to resume play, and with that Shouyou is allowed to breathe again. 

Just prior to resuming the set, it's become obvious that Atsumu has taken to pestering his brother while he has a chance. Another arm grab, probably rougher than necessary, frames his shaking shoulders indicative of some great laugh. Osumu pushes him off not a second later, unwilling to tolerate whatever his brother is bothering him with, which only draws more laughter from the other.  

Shouyou crosses his arms, wishing he could be closer to the court so he could catch the sound he's come to enjoy so much over the span of a mere week. Both alphas have nice laughs, all deep and husky and able to send shivers rattling down his spine. The tiny speaker of his phone is incomparable to taking in the sound in person, and earlier in the day he was beside himself from being awash to so much attention. 

If he were closer he could maybe even make sense of the words being exchanged between the two. Shouyou doesn’t think they’re truly arguing, and seeing them interact like this in person is just as much of a treat as their humor and good company compared to seeing them through a phone screen. The spats he's been privy to have never carried any heat in their words or actions, and if the way they're acting right now is of any indication, this instance is no different. 

That makes him very happy. 

Cooperating alphas are so much easier to court than squabbling ones. Seeing them like this, under these circumstances, is probably the best outcome he could have hoped for.

They may be twins, but their temperaments couldn’t be further apart. 

In a good way, of course. 

Counterbalance is beneficially symbiotic. A way of keeping their dynamic from being too volatile. An ability to work in tandem while remaining unapologetically themselves is a relief to any misgivings he might have had. A solo courtship would have had him anxious enough, nevermind a double. Speaking to them frequently over the phone is one thing, but direct visual confirmation of their ability to cooperate has been a huge reassurance to any internalized worries. 

Dual alpha pursuals are so often tense affairs steeped in competition, with most crumbling quickly because of that. An instinctual, underlying urgency to secure a sole partnership frequently outstrips any sort of chance for a successful triad. It all boils down to the primality of it all, the natural order of things. Modernity has blurred the lines of nature’s priorities, but instinct isn’t as keen to relinquish all those ancient value systems that assured continuing lineages for millions of years.

An extra alpha in the mix is one less chance of being successful in that endeavor, afterall.  

Flourishing in a dual courtship is often difficult because of those instinctive tendencies. Rarely are alphas able to manage conflicting instincts and higher intellect— and those without the instinctual pull to compete for sole mateship are even more scarce. Shouyou wants to hope he’s managed to strike gold twice. Even if finding two perfectly suitable alphas seems like an impossible needle to find in a world of haystacks. 

A week of near-constant contact has made him cautiously optimistic, and today has turned that burgeoning hope into something a little more tangible. The idea of being caught between them is distressing, because each day has only proven how good each of them is in their own unique ways. Every spat that turns out to simply be brotherly in nature rather than courtship-centered is one step closer to alleviating his anxiety in the matter for good.

Shouyou knows he'd be distraught trying to puzzle that out. Selecting one over the other would be an agonizing thing. Awkward, too, assuming a relationship with whomever he chose worked out— which realistically it probably wouldn't because of lingering animosity over losing to a competitor. 

Fortunately, it doesn't seem like he'll need to suffer through stilted greetings or heavy silences around either of them. Things have bridged nicely, and if the game will ever end maybe they can get back to exploring the intricacies of shared attention among two alphas. 

Heaven knows Shouyou has already developed a taste for it in less than a week, with today only heightening the favorability of it.  

It's…strangely nice being at the center of this kind of attention. Unfamiliar and new, but wholly enjoyable. Friends and family aside, Shouyou has felt like an afterthought at worst and a convenience at best. Like some invisible divide that he never could quite breach, there was always several degrees of separation between himself and his former partners— and especially the most recent. 

At first Shouyou brushed it off as merely a transition period, an awkward phase of evolving from friendship to romantic involvement. Shouyou didn't exactly have a wide breadth of experience to draw on, and therein lay the problem: lack of contextual framing and simple naivety. Coupled together, Shouyou can finally understand why he tried to make it work for so long. 

But now he has a proper frame of reference. 

Comparing people isn't always the best thing to do, but this is certainly an exception. Perspective is such an amazing thing, proof that the sayings about hindsight being crystal are accurate in his case.

A swell of noise from the crowd pulls Shouyou to awareness, and wide-eyed he scrambles to piece together what he may have missed. Nothing had been too competitive as he zoned out again. The game was proceeding at a regular pace and…no. 

No, there's a flurry of movement occurring now. 

The scoreboard declares the game to be at match point in favor of the home team. In a series of rapid footwork and strategy, the opposing team snatches the narrow lead back to even not a minute later. There's a collective heave from the stadium, a flux of agitated energy rippling through onlookers. People are invested, eager for a conclusion after a win has narrowly been denied. 

The players seem more on edge as a result, too. Tense but focused, ready to chase down an endpoint. Down below the twins are pacing, framing the mounting rebuttal of the team in jerky, stalking movements. Suggestive of irritation, if not a simmering rage. 

Yet another match-point robbed confirms it, and oh, the look on Atsumu's face is fierce. Osamu is no better, only his anger is reflected in the clenching of his fists and jaw rather than a wrathful contorting of his facial features. 

It happens in a flash, but both men glance his way before returning to glaring across the net. 

Shouyou chuckles, fingers curling over the edges of the scarf to scrunch it up to his nose. He wonders what they smell like irritated, riled. Not in an angry sort of way, but the kind borne out of overcoming difficult challenges. As kind as they've been, he's coming up blank on how the steady, soothing pheromones scented into the fabric could possibly morph into something sharper, something dangerous. 

Instincts insist that good alphas like the twins would never subject him to those particular pheromones or energy, but a small part of himself sort of wants to be. A little danger, a little thrill never hurt anybody— and if Osamu and Atsumu are as trustworthy as he believes they are, a bit of experimenting might be fun to dabble in.

Time will tell. 

Time that's being utilized elsewhere instead of cultivating a new courtship. 

Speaking of, it seems the two have come to the same conclusion as he has previously. The sooner this set ends in a victory, the sooner the three of them can return to spending time with one another. 

There won’t be an abundance of it before he needs to head back to the station, but time is time, and right now Shouyou can practically hear the ticking of a clock in his head. It's maddening, really. Like a corporeal whittling away of minutes lost.

A fresh courtship is a delicate thing, afterall, and Shouyou has two on his hands. 

His courtship may be a dual arrangement, but it's not like Atsumu and Osumu are fused together. Individual attention and bonding needs to occur for this to work. Fine details, subtleties in what will comprise their triad dynamic will come with time, but his gut instinct is telling him this is a good match. It's a feeling that mostly eluded him in the past, a feeling he had to convince himself of…but with the twins there hasn't been any hesitancy, only eagerness and urgency to secure a reality not yet set in stone. 

It's a shared sentiment, all things considered.

Mere hours into its infancy, the twins have put a ton of effort into bolstering their fledgling courtship. 

Two thoughtful gifts to commemorate the occasion would have been enough, but now they're posturing.

As if they need to ensure Shouyou stays interested. As if they haven't had a delightful monopoly on his attention for a full week already, have him pulled in deep and ready to sink further if presented the opportunity. It’s reckless, given his history, but exciting and thrilling and, and— something in his gut is screaming that he can trust his alphas to not hurt him. 

By now he's been endeared enough to them that such primal displays aren't really warranted. Effort like this is foreign to him, but he likes it, because he's been made to feel like he deserves the sort of care and thoughtfulness they've already extended. 

Surely they understand his interest. He neglected to wear patches today, so there's no mistaking how shocked, but elated, he was when they first proposed courtship earlier in the day. 

Right off the train, at that. 

They'd been planning on it apparently, only they'd anticipated asking in a few more weeks and not quite so soon. But they're attentive and unwilling to pass up a good opportunity. 

An alpha's need to provide and protect are among the strongest impulses, and apparently neglecting additional layers to keep himself warm was enough to trigger a reaction. Neglecting to eat a proper breakfast only bolstered their decision to ask for a courtship. 

The colorful scarf draped around his shoulders clashes with his outfit, but he won't fault the two on fashion critique. According to Atsumu, he thought Shouyou would love how colorful it was, and he was correct. Osumu was more eloquent in his reasoning, turning Shouyou bright red as soon as the words beautiful omegas need beautiful things left the alpha's mouth. 

He's been in the clouds ever since, mind all floaty and happier than he's been in literally months. Coming down doesn't seem like an option, because the twins have been relentless in keeping his mood in the stratosphere all day. Like it's some sort of challenge to make his face and voice ache from smiling and laughing so much. 

Part of it is driven by instinct, Shouyou knows. But inwardly he's starting to believe they're just like this. Over the week their demeanor has been consistent, similar to today if not a little more intense in person. It's good though, even if he sometimes feels like his innards are melting when something particularly sweet is said or done. 

Shouyou has never been the type to ask for a whole lot, but they've been showering him in excess right from the start— and that feels so good. Encouragement to be greedy for joy for his own sake is novel, even more so is that others don't consider it a burden to provide those minor things for him. He feels a little spoiled already with how attentive they've been, how sweet and kind and genuinely good. 

Everything in him is itching to return the favor, to reinforce just how happy he is. 

Posturing behavior usually results in a natural exercise of give and take, an organic feedback loop of approval or disinterest on an omegas part. Shouyou has only been able to indicate his attentiveness in the form of faraway smiles and little waves whenever they check to make sure he’s been watching. Hardly the type of positive reinforcement a courting alpha would prefer, but it's the best he can do at the moment. 

Likely the two are becoming just as restless as he is. All the effort being exerted has had very little return and minimal feedback to communicate how pleased he is. Identifying the obstacle standing in the way of direct praise has obviously triggered the progressively erratic behavior happening down below. Plays have transformed from simply flamboyant to disruptively chaotic, and are only escalating by the minute. 

He can't hear with being so far up in the stands, but he sure can see what is undoubtedly a snarl in response to a failed point. A point that would have taken the set. 

A cool shiver worms its way down his spine, and he clutches the scarf with a long inhale. Although the scents have started to mix, Shouyou can still tell aspects from each separate individual. 

Osumu's is calm and grounding, a perfect reflection of the alpha. It's impossible to imagine such steady pheromones as angry, but a showcasing of teeth and tensed teammates indicates the pheromones are probably potent. 

Clearly they aren't accustomed to Osumu losing his cool, and Shouyou imagines it's probably terrifying when such a collected person starts to crack. Likewise, Atsumu has become less energetic. He's focused in a way that's too rigid, and the calm furry he exudes suggests he might snap at the slightest provocation. 

Shouyou sort of wants both of them to snap. 

That'd be disastrous, but his inner instincts want to see just how feral these two can become. He also sort of wants to be on the other end of it. Preferably under, after being properly pursued and pinned.

Bending to ancient prey drives used to be something he scoffed at, but now he's starting to wonder if his resistance has been due to mismatched intentions and context. 

Aggression in that regard sounds thrilling, pleasurable. Shouyou has certainly experienced it before, but never with a sense of eager anticipation. Instinct is insistent that his trust won't be misplaced this time, that any aggression extended to him will be wielded with precision and purpose. There won't be any malice or power struggle, just a blending of instinct, a balanced give-and-take like nature has always intended.

Everything they've done has had a purpose. Any underlying alphan needs have been trumped by his own comfort, which in itself is still a very alpha urge to satisfy. Controlled bravado is shockingly attractive, but maybe that's because he's always clamored to alphas with unchecked pride and selfishness.

Not intentionally. 

Things just always panned out that way. Mostly shallow reasons, if he's being honest. Physical appearance and attitude, always the attitude— confidence, at the core. Something he lacked back then and desperately sought out in an alpha rather than for himself. 

Only those confident alphas always seemed to be packaged with masculinity that veered into toxic oppression. Dominance for the sake of control rather than balancing instinct and desire. It was one unhealthy relationship after another, a stream of unsatisfying dates and one spectacularly failed courtship. 

Somewhere along the way Shouyou just accepted it, settled. 

Until now. 

Shouyou is done settling after being shown how real men, real alphas, can and should behave. Accepting less than that was a personal shortcoming, and he'll be damned if he allows himself to repeat his past mistakes. 

Learning to process how wonderful the twins are means rewiring all his biases. Biases that good alphas would have never established in his mind to begin with. But it's okay, because his alphas are kind and patient. Secure enough in their dynamic to understand that hesitancy on an omega's part does not mean disrespect or rejection. Realizing that is nearly as liberating as finding a foothold in his own independence was. 

He shifts in his seat as Atsumu starts stalking toward the end court for his turn to serve. His form is beautiful, and the power behind the impact violently ricochets in the hollowness of the gymnasium. Another brief glance follows, fierce and sharp, barely a second, just to make sure his attention is still rapt. Air goes stagnant in his chest— oh he could definitely get used to that look. 

Passion is such a departure from outright aggression, and having it directed at himself is thrilling. And whenever they look up, which is frequently at this point, that's all he sees. Passion and strength, the type meant to impress rather than intimidate into submission. That's the kind of behavior that makes him want to yield— not out of obligation, but desire. 

Gosh, he wishes this game would end already. 

A victory is on the horizon, just out of reach

The poor head coach is probably losing his mind, but Shouyou can't find it within himself to have any sympathy. Not when his alphas have driven the trajectory of this game— presumably with himself as the catalyst. It's the most flattering thing anyone has ever done for him, and he's completely enamored at this point.  

As the crowd leans into the energy, so does he. 

Yelling and on his feet during breakout opportunities, groaning and grunting his exasperation when a chance play falls apart. For the next several minutes, he’s sublimely breathless, so alive in the moment with second-hand adrenaline. 

The sensation is the sort of feeling he's only experienced while actively playing himself— but at the same time it all feels wholly different and new and wonderful. There’s a deeper shared meaning underpinning his racing heart rather than merely gunning for a victory, and he never wants to let the feeling go.  

When the deciding play finally smacks down, Shouyou has long since gathered up his bag and coat to weave his way out of the spectator row.

A keen eye and experience foretold several minutes prior that the play would be fair. So confident in his prediction, Shouyou is already halfway down the stairs with how rapidly he's descending. A shrill call of a whistle confirms the win, and a loud laugh bubbles from his chest in response.

Several seconds ahead of the curve, Shouyou's sudden departure from his seat drew curious looks, but he couldn't remain stationary in his seat any longer. Honestly, how could anyone remain static when the thrum of impending victory was so evident? The crowd probably assumed the play could be dead in the water and the set would go on, but Shouyou knew better. 

The final setup and execution of the play had been beautifully done, a centerpiece amidst a wildly chaotic offensive start and clambering bodies on both sides. 

Leading up to the toss he'd been a wreck, jittery with his hands tangled in his hair and stomach in his throat from all the near misses. But then he'd seen it, the toss coming out of the fray that would spell the offensive team's downfall. Rapidly predicting the game flow that would naturally follow that gorgeous setup spelled the outcome well before the ball fell fair.

Suddenly he’s very thankful for all those stair climbs he tortures himself with every week. Muscle memory has kicked in, preventing him from stumbling the rest of the way down and enabling him to keep his sights set on the two alphas being swamped by their teammates. He screams, joyful and elated as the crowd finally catches on. 

Momentum causes him to roughly collide to a stop at the spectator barrier, morphing his laughter and screams into a honking wheeze as inertia compresses all the air from his chest. It doesn't dampen the adrenaline coursing in his veins though, because one heaving inhale later his continued elation dissolves right into the din of the now celebrating crowd high above. It's surreal, everything in slow motion and warp speed, the purest expression of communal joy. 

The game wasn’t even a regulation game, only a pre-season match against a rival school. No rankings or placements were dependent on this win, but here everyone is freaking out like it had been a championship final. None of that matters though, not after a struggle being driven by a stubborn desire to win. 

For him. Alphas did this for him. 

He’s happy for his alphas, proud of them. Being at the bottom of a pile and the center of the energy is an amazing feeling, and they certainly deserve all the commotion being rained down on them. Chaotic methods aside, the two have fed into the determination to eke out a win against an opponent. So many instances have seen them taking charge of lows, spurring teammates to be unsatisfied with anything but an early shutout. 

He's tempted to launch himself over the railing and go join the pile, but refrains. Barely. He can see them struggling to work their way out, and that pacifies him enough to remain in place. 

Atsumu is the first to break free of the pile, stumbling to his feet with a wide grin and dodging other teammates still in the throes of their adrenaline rush. Quickly he’s looking up into the stands, but he won't find Shouyou there no matter how hurriedly he sweeps the upper rows in search of him. After a few seconds, Shouyou is able to drag the alpha’s gaze back down with several jumps and wild flaps of his arms. 

Atsumu's wide grin becomes impossibly wider as he jogs over, and under the brightness of it Shouyou can feel his face flush. 

“Ahhh! That was amazing!” He exclaims. 

“Did you see—!” 

Anyone remotely trying to follow their conversation was probably lost the second it started. A mixture of gibberish, shouting, hand motions, and half-formed sentences comprises the excited retelling of the game just lived. 

It's no secret that Shouyou becomes a jumbled, hyperactive mess when excited. Finding someone who completely understands (and participates in) his enthusiasm is a real treat.

Fondness swells in his chest the longer they continue crowing at one another. It's such a simple thing having his energy matched— encouraged, rather than being chastised for it.

Even Osamu, quiet and reserved as he is, seems to enjoy his tendency to ramble and become jittery over small things. An absence of participation is no bother, because active listening and occasional prompting for more opinions is just as refreshing as bouncing energy off of Atsumu. 

For the life of him Shouyou can't understand how such a congenial alphas hadn't been snapped up before he came kicking and screaming into the picture. 

In between his delightfully chaotic conversation with Atsumu, he had been casting glances in search of Osamu. By the time Osamu is able to break free from being violently shaken by his teammates to join them, Shouyou can barely breathe from the wheezing laughter rattling his ribs.  

The exasperation coloring that usually poised face only made him laugh harder, especially when his brother took first notice— and promptly waved off coming to his twin's aid. He preferred to join in cajoling at the other alpha's expense alongside Shouyou. Stray comments, likening the struggling alpha to random references, has his ribs aching from all his heaving laughter. 

Osamu finally stumbles over after several palm-to-face shoves to fend off teammates attempting to drag him back under. Shouyou manages to wheeze out a greeting when the alpha is within hearing distance. 

Catching his breath is futile, because a snorting sort of laugh overtakes him at the perturbed expression scrunching up the alpha’s face as Atsumu ropes him into a neck-jarring grab. He wipes at the corners of his eyes with a heaving sigh, little rattles overtaking him as he forces himself to calm down and refill his lungs with desperately needed air. Complaints of whiplash and abuse cause Atsumu to cling on tighter, and Shouyou watches fondly as a squabble ensues.  

Their bickering is short-lived. A booming voice bellowing their surname has the two freezing up, eyes wide and jaws stiff. Suddenly entangled grapples seem more supportive than playful, neither making a move to separate just yet. 

Ah, seems there will be hell to pay for today’s antics afterall. 

Despite a victory, the head coach definitely hasn't forgotten the unorthodox playstyle adopted from the onset of the first set. Nor has the portly man forgotten that not only had the irregularity persevered, it continued to evolve into a spectacle more outlandish and unpredictable by the minute. 

A stern discussion is clearly in the works.

Maybe even punishment drills. Shouyou winces, sympathy aches springing up in his limbs and chest at the thought of it. Shouyou is light on his feet, springy. But Atsumu and Osamu are all height and corded muscle— ooh, repeated diving drills will hurt something awful, he's sure of it. 

Technically, Shouyou is to blame for this predicament. Instincts are the real culprit, but an omega ultimately serves as the catalyst for triggering the urge to flaunt strength and ability. He knows he shouldn't, but he still feels guilty that the two will be on the receiving end of a scathing tirade for their behavior. 

Shouyou looks between them, offering the most sympathetic condolences that he can.

Apologies fall on deaf ears. 

He stares at them, dumbfounded. 

Shifting blame is something alphas are notorious for struggling with. Pride and ego tend to get in the way, but Osumu and Atsumu are handling themselves beautifully in the aftermath of indulging their instincts. An absence of the natural urge to preserve a certain image is impressive, especially while under the influence of over an hour's worth of adrenaline-fueled instinctual posturing. 

Accountability and humility are such difficult attributes to display without it coming across as forced or staged, but they've been so consistent every step of the way. 

Warmth bubbles in his chest, making him smile all goofy and soft. Shouyou doesn't remember the last time he's been like this, all light and giggly, but it's hard not to be around Osumu and Atsumu. 

Plus, they look just so pleased with themselves— his reaction is exactly what they've been after, Shouyou realizes. Omegan contentment in the form of jubilous praise and compliments, excited affirmations of acceptance of a posturing display.  

It's such a pure desired response, a huge departure from what so many others would be seeking out of a courtship display. The realization makes more of his chest turn to goo from how cute, how utterly sweet and charming they are in the way they've been courting him. Today is officially the first day, but Shouyou is beginning to suspect interest truly began that night they first met. 

It had to in order to reach this point. 

Imagining them as anything but genuine in their intentions is impossible with how consistent they've been. How respectful and kind and funny and— it's a lot to understand all at once. Makes it a little hard to breathe, because wow.   

Being pursued properly, desirable but not being objectified in the process, that's— that's exactly what he's been needing but didn't realize was missing. 

Shouyou honestly can't pinpoint the last time he felt the little rush of excitement those aspects of a relationship should bring, but from the outset that's all he's felt around the twins. 

His past was always fighting interspersed with periods of weird static limbo. Day by day, he never really knew where he or his partner stood until the day turned out to be good or bad. That spark, the excitement of feeling like his insides may have melted was only microdosed in the immediate aftermath of a falling out and— and it shouldn't be like that.

He understands that now, thanks in part to the two gorgeous men looking up at him. 

Before he can think about it too much, Shouyou folds over the barrier to extend his wrists forward. 

Allowing the small glands of his wrists to be scented is the best he can offer at the moment. Approving reciprocation of their display is needed, overdue for over an hour. Separation during a posturing display will only exacerbate behaviors, and they've more than earned more than brief waves and acknowledging smiles from a distance.  

He’s more than satisfied with their efforts, and his own instincts are screaming at him to make sure his alphas know that they've done a good job of impressing him. Scenting is a quick and efficient way of relaying that, and much easier than tripping over his own teeth trying to babble out an hour's worth of praises and adoration. 

Hands so much larger than his own wrap around each of his wrists. Soft touches, gentle and careful, sweep over his skin. Light pressure against the tiny glands sends pleasurable jolts zinging up his arms. He can practically feel the weight of their stares on him, warm and intense and all consuming. 

It's a struggle to swallow down the coo in his throat, made all the more challenging as pressure bleeds into little swirls and soft glides to properly stimulate the gland. Tacky, sweet oils bead up near instantly to match the molten heat being smeared across his skin, and thankfully the strangled sound that slips through his teeth is lost to the noise still filling the gym. 

Wrist glands usually aren't the most sensitive of glands, but the nature of their sport tends to keep the tiny swells irritated among omegas. Sensitivity is a given for him with how much and how intensely he trains. Over the years Shouyou has taken to using a stiff protective sports tape to try and mitigate some of the impact, to lessen how tender the small area becomes at times. Dull aches aren't completely eliminated, but it keeps him from yelping from every received serve or everyday clumsiness.  

He half expected his forearms to be gripped tightly, harshly. For the small glands to be bullied into producing the scented oils now leisurely beading at the surface. It's a reasonable expectation, because other omegas usually aren't involved in activities that might irritate those glands— but here are two alphas with the presence of mind to anticipate a need and accommodate without prompting. 

Another pass against much thicker forearms causes gooseflesh in its wake. Firm, but not forceful, just enough to really mix oils and the pheromones laden within. He's torn between yanking a hand free so he can sniff at the combination or continuing soaking up the pleasant sensation of heat and touch, the zing that continued contact pulls through his body. 

Then there's a nose dragging beneath his palm, a rumbling against his flesh and rattling him right down to the bone. The space between his ribs suddenly closes in, tight and constricting but oh so amazing. A forceful exhale follows, dragging a coo up from his lungs along with it— happy, content, more. Please. 

Two sets of lidded eyes fixate onto him, and suddenly his low cooing kickstarts into a trilling purr. Loud enough to cut through the background noise and forceful enough for residual vibrations to shake down his limbs. His nose and ears are on fire, and he can practically feel more blood creeping onto the bridge of nose when the sound intensifies under the wide-eyed wonder that is the alphas peering up at him. 

Embarrassed, he tries to pull away. 

The grip around his wrists tightens, just slightly. If he wanted he could still pull free, but there's enough of a hold to slow him down. Give him a chance to reconsider. 

Which he does, and if he didn't have a stupid grin before he sure does now. 

In general, alphas just don't look soft. Gentleness, vulnerability— a thousand years ago, those sorts of things would have gotten entire packs killed or worse.

Modernity hasn't completely removed the instinct to embody the exact opposite of those traits, and even Shouyou isn't beyond admitting that rugged, steeled strength is alluring. An ability to embrace a sense of duality of self, however, balance, well, that's ten times as attractive as brute strength and bullheadedness could ever be. 

It's crazy to think that he's found not one, but two alphas who can and do emulate a mix of kind vulnerability alongside traditionally favored traits. 

Atsumu has a smile to rival his own, bright and blinding and so open that it pinches at something deep inside his heart, while Osumu is looking up at him slack jawed, stunned? As if the alpha doesn't believe he's earned the affection that an omega's purring indicates. 

He does, of course. 

They both do. 

He desperately wants to give them that, because there's the promise that vulnerability will be returned, reciprocated. 

"Sometime this year, boys!" 

Awareness slams home like a tidal wave. A sense of wariness washes over him, cold and unforgiving and dousing the balmly warmth that's seeped into his soul. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Shouyou breaks eye contact first— gaze flicking up to centercourt and quickly back down again.

Scenting in public is generally considered an inappropriate thing to do, and they’re smack dab in the middle of a crowded gymnasium. The exchange before was brief enough to not turn too many eyes, but Shouyou is itching to reach out for a more extended, thorough contact. Brevity brought electricity, and Shouyou shutters to think of the thunder a more private setting might encourage. 

Thankfully Shouyou still has the presence of mind to not create another spectacle for people to gawk at. 

Wriggling his hands free happens with little resistance. There's a shared understanding that their little self-contained bubble has burst. 

Atsumu and Osumu look like they’re about to walk to their execution, and the pitiful droop to those plump mouths is a bit too much for him to process. As is the way his hovering, outstretched hands are met midway, the way there’s too much pressure in his palms to be anything but a deliberate leaning into his touch. 

Soft, vulnerable— sensory and comfort seeking, and Shouyou can just barely contain the keg that is his heart from trying to explode. He's so lucky, he really truly is. 

Blonde and gray locks are matted with sweat, and quickly he pushes errant strands into something more acceptable. He bites at his lower lip to hush any sounds that want to come up and over, because gosh are they a sight with lidded eyes and parted mouths while he pets at the damp strands. 

“Might as well look presentable while you’re being yelled at,” He comments, deflective and sincerely hoping the waver in his voice wasn’t noticeable. 

“Shouldn’t take too long.” Osamu assures. 

“Hopefully.” Atsumu mutters ruefully, expression gaunt.

Shouyou laughs, startled, at the pained noise that erupts from Osumu abruptly thwacking the blonde on the shoulder.  

Before either can retort there’s yet another loud bellowing of their surname. 

Shouyou belatedly hopes he isn’t waiting for too long. The coach seems properly irate from this distance, so who knows how long the lecture will last. From what he's gathered, the twins are an instrumental component of the roster this year. It's unlikely a first time offense will result in benching either of them, but the coach is impressively twitchy. 

"Hey, don't worry, everything'll be fine." 

"We'll come find you after, okay?" 

Plans on a general meeting point are quickly confirmed, then the twins turn to accept their fate. When they pull away his palms feel cold, empty at the sudden departure of weight against them. Sweat and all, the connection felt nice. Probably would feel even nicer washed and dry, all soft and silky. Maybe a few croons to vibrate into his fingers to match the coos and whines that will surely sound out of his chest.  

Exiting the stadium with the flow of the crowd leads him to the main lobby. It’s more of an atrium, really. Fancy with its high vaulted glass ceiling and grand with how expansive the entire enclosure is. Shouyou's university isn't lowly ranked by any means, but the opulence that has been poured into this campus sure makes a specific statement. 

There’s several benches a ways down from the general entry doors. 

Plopping down on an open one allows him to escape the outward flow of fellow spectators. He catches a few comments about certain plays and smiles. Pride is a pleasant emotion, foreign but not unwelcome— he hopes it becomes commonplace, because so far he can't really find much to not be proud of concerning his alphas.

Soon enough the lobby is left fairly empty with only a few stragglers hanging around. More than likely they're loitering for similar reasons as himself. Waiting to meetup with athlete friends or student staff for the team or complex. 

He huffs, resigned to waiting with his eyes downcast to where his hands are twiddling in his lap. The surface of his palms are still tingling, the spaces between his fingers alight with the phantom sensation of grey and blonde woven between them. With any luck, maybe he'll be allowed to play with their hair outside of this very specific set of circumstances. It's such a tactile thing, something he can imagine doing in more quiet moments. 

Alphas before, especially Tobio, never really appreciated that kind of treatment. At best it always came across as coddling, and at worst threatened their sense of masculinity. Doting attention just wasn't something those men could accept— or even give, now that he really thinks about it. 

Not that Shouyou wants to be catered to or doted on all the time, but a bit of affection every now and then wouldn't hurt. He's caught a glimpse of how well the twins might accept his affection, and the hope in his chest is burning in its intensity. A whine is right on the precipice for how eager he is to return to that all-too-short moment. 

His wrists ache, but not from the repetitive abuse that his arms whether from volleyball strikes or athletic drills. It's a good type of ache, strange and unfamiliar, but pleasant in a wistful kind of way. Contact earlier hadn't lasted nearly as long as he would have liked. The intermingled pheromones are barely clinging to his skin from how rushed the scenting was, but what remains is divine. 

He wants more. Wants to wallow in how perfectly compatible each of them scents with his own pheromones. Cross mixtures even smell good, addicting and beguiling and maddening from how little is available to breathe in. 

He has to consciously remind himself that huffing at his wrists in public is a great way to make himself look like a scent-deprived weirdo— which, okay, he is, but strangers don’t need to know that. Still, Atsumu and Osumu have no business smelling this good, like sin and honey and a siren's song to every depraved scenario his equally deprived instincts, mind, and body can conjure up. Which is a lot; months of sequestered isolation will do that to a person. 

Head knocked back against the wall, Shouyou closes his eyes. 

He's in deep— gods, is he in deep. Totally out of his breadth with all his baggage weighing him down, too. Even if he was a step up from garbage at swimming, all his past experiences might as well be a ten-ton anchor. Trying to tread water seems like an overwhelming prospect. 

He likes the twins, no question, but that's what makes this so difficult. 

If this were a casual thing like his friends initially suggested it wouldn't be nearly as bad. But his two alphas are serious. Courtship serious and motivated right out of the gate about it. And now he's in a dual courtship with two of the kindest, sweetest, hottest alphas he's ever met in his life. 

Lucky and cursed at the same time, a first-world problem is there ever was one. 

Terribly in need of a distraction, he does the first thing that comes to mind. Fiddling with his phone and scrolling social media is a habit picked up from one of his close friends. Hands aren't left idle but at the same time he can blissfully slip into a sort of mental numbness of the latest gossip and drama that only a college campus community can produce. 

Reality television pales in comparison, and after so many months wallowing in his emotions he has a plethora of seasons to catch up on. 

Because wow, he never would have guessed the lanky bookworm in one of his lectures was such a fuckboy. Two pregnancy scares in three months while being involved with three omegas is wild. A fight is actually ongoing over on Twitter right now, two of the affected omegas going after the third party. Ooh, the third one is actually courting the guy, what a mess…well, probably not for long seeing as he keeps tagging a fourth omega in unrelated posts, wow. 

He blinks, a little dazed when his phone starts buzzing. He shakes his head, a poor attempt at scrambling all the brain cells that have surely perished while piecing together a real-life soap opera. Before the last ring flips the call to missed, he swipes the green circle to accept the call. 

"Hi, Kenma!" He says, adjusting one of his earbuds for a better fit, "Everything alright?" 

He and Kenma have been friends for several years. Total opposites in terms of personalities, but somehow that dynamic works wonderfully for them. Hyper and social enough for two people, Kenma's more reserved, introverted nature helps balance any chaos Shouyou might cause otherwise. Likewise, there have been small victories in pulling his friend out of his shell. 

Kenma is most definitely still a texter. Calling is far too much on the blonde's social battery even for a best friend.  

"No," Kenma replies, "Where are you?" 

"Uh, with the twins? Well, waiting on them, the game just ended not long ago." 

There's a clicking noise in his ear. Shouyou is also fairly sure he's heard a mumbled death threat. Which is concerning. Shouyou was privy to Kenma's deep dive into true crime a few summers ago. If anyone would know how to cleanly dispose of a body, he would bank on his best friend to be the person who could. 

"Kenma?" 

"Kenma! Get out here! You can't just hide all night!" 

Shouyou's eyes go wide, understanding dawning when Tooru's voice filters into the call. 

"You've been tricked." 

"I've been tricked." Kenma confirms, solemn and grim. 

Considerable effort is needed not to laugh at his friend's put out expression, but Kenma is surprisingly astute at social cues, "Don't laugh at me, this isn't funny, Sho!" 

"What did they even say for you to agree anyway?" 

Ever the busybody, Tooru interjects into the call. There's a struggle, Kenma clearly fighting for his life to keep his newly upgraded phone in his own hands. The blonde looks so done with his face squished tightly against Tooru's as a compromise. 

“Ohh, look who finally decided to call!” Tooru chides. 

“I was busy!" He looks to Kenma, "Tooru said I'd be there didn't he?" 

“Busy, you say?” Tooru is insufferable, palm smacked right over Kenma's mouth. Shouyou loves him, “Well, start yapping, I’m all ears.” 

“Not like that, you pervert.” 

Tooru pouts, “Did things go badly?"  

“Ah, about that,” He says, “I’m still here, actually.” 

“What!” 

Poor Kenma is now sandwiched between Koushi and Tooru. He looks properly miserable, but there's little Shouyou can do to help. He probably could if it were just one of the two, but paired together all anybody can do is just…bend to Koushi and Tooru's collective whims. 

Tonight those whims are focused on how his day went with the twins. 

Once he has them all caught up, Koushi and Tooru look like a pair of puffed up tomatoes ready to combust. It's good though. News of courtships are traditionally an exciting life event, but given his unique circumstances he wasn't really sure what sort of reception the announcement would garner. 

“That is so stinking cute,” Koushi says finally, “I'd have been happy if you just got laid, but this is better. Now you'll have dick on tap—"

"Stooop!" He and Kenma yell at the same time, to which Koushi promptly promises to not do. 

“Oi!” Tooru suddenly turns, “Why weren’t you cute and sweet when you asked me to court you?” 

“Fuck off,” A voice snaps, “You demanded I court you, I didn’t have a choice.” 

Shouyou laughs, the sound reverberating off the high walls. He laughs harder when Tooru yells at him that it's not funny and to stop encouraging his alpha to believe otherwise. It is though, because the way Tooru and Hajime balance each other out is so amusing to watch. 

Hajime appears in the background briefly, several drinks laden in his arms. Kenma wrinkles his nose at the bottles and glasses, but assists in helping the alpha not make a mess to take Koushi and Tooru's preferred drinks off of him. After that the alpha makes a hasty retreat. The muted sounds of heavy bass can be heard as the man slips out of the door before being sealed again. 

Oh, poor Kenma. 

Friday night parties are always wild with Koushi and Tooru at the helm. Kenma has been doing a lot better recently, more out of necessity than desire. Before isolating himself, Shouyou was always the blond's social buffer at gatherings. 

He winces, remembering vague statements of maybe dropping by after coming back home and depending on if he felt up to it or not. Vague statements can be dangerous from how many different ways they can be interpreted, and no doubt those empty promises made it to his friends ear.

Without Shouyou, Kenma was sort of forced to adapt. Making an appearance tonight was probably done in hopes that Shouyou would be there. He and Kenma really are overdue for a night out, though maybe a little more subdued than what Koushi and Tooru have to offer.

"We were hoping you'd drop by tonight," Koushi prods, "Your boys put you in a good mood, yeah?" 

Shouyou stammers over his answer, flustered. He's in high spirits, sure, but that doesn't equate to partying over it. Partying in general would be sort of weird being in a new courtship, too, and— 

Two bodies slamming down on either side of him have him yelping, heart in his throat and phone fumbling in his grip. He quickly pulls his earbuds free to silence his screeching friends as recognition settles in. 

"You scared me!" He complains, "Holy crap!" 

"Thought you like surprises?" Atsumu quips, looking completely unapologetic. 

"Not like that, jeeze," He says, pouting, "So, uh, I guess you both survived?" 

"Barely," Osamu supplies, "Atsumu kept antagonizing our coach—" 

"I was not!" 

Shouyou ducks forward, dodging the arm weaving behind his head to swat at the other. Gosh, they're so ridiculous. It's then that he notices that the call is still active, momentarily forgotten in the absence of his friends' continued attempts to rope him back in. He makes a face, taunting them for how silly they look crammed in close to the screen as though that will help. 

Sighing, Shouyou sits upright. 

The squabbling stops, and yeah, he's super pleased about that. Continued efforts to strangle each other might catch him in the crosshairs, so obviously the correct thing to do is cease their attempts at casual murder. Their concern for his health is touching, really. 

Deactivating the Bluetooth connection has a litany of sounds spilling into the space. Like nails on a chalkboard from how riled up Tooru and Koushi have become. Kenma is simply being tossed between them, probably dissociated by now to cope with such high energy those two put off constantly. 

Shouyou casts a glance to either side with a soft chuckle, "So, uh," He tries, "These are a few of my friends." 

"Oh my god," Tooru exclaims, "You weren't lying, Sho." 

"I will mute you." He threatens, thumb hovering over the button. 

Atsumu, the traitor, goads them on, "And what sorts of things does Shouyou say about us?"

Shouyou flushes. He's said a lot about the twins. All favorable, but also equally embarrassing. Some words are better left unsaid, but propriety is a concept Koushi and Tooru take as a suggestion rather than guidelines. 

"You said they were hot, but not that hot," Koushi adds, completely unhelpful, "Hey, do you two have any other siblings?" 

"Suga!" 

"Not for me," Koushi says, flippant, "I have a couple of friends in mind though."

"Alright, alright," Kenma pipes in, forever a voice of reason. Or maybe out of a desire to reign in the chaos for his own sanity, "Let's start with names first like normal people." 

With the call finally ended, all the wind suddenly knocks from his sails. Shouyou loves his friends, but sometimes they can be a bit much. Today has been a whirlwind, and fielding two of his more aggressively supportive friends' curiosity was more stressful than he thought it would be. They mean well, of course, but trying to corral those two really takes its toll. 

The aftermath isn't as bad or awkward as it probably should be, though. More proof for just how accommodating Osumu and Atsumu are for him. As it is, all three of them have settled into a comfortable silence. 

Silence is nice, silence is good. 

Before the game he talked up a storm, so to have a moment to just be in their presence, unhurried with no pressure, is enjoyable. Words aren't needed to set any sort of tone, or fill any sort of gaps. Usually Shouyou hates silence, because quiet moments used to punctuate his own yawning loneliness, accentuating his tendency to spiral into self-deprecating thoughts. 

That impetus isn't here right now, that hated constant blessedly at bay behind two patient alphas just as content to spend time with him at rest or adventuring. No expectations never felt so right, and happily he sinks into the feeling. 

The atrium is essentially empty, the night sky clear and dotted with stars overhead. 

Most of the facility has since been cleared out, the building only open because crazy athletes tend to take advantage of sparsely populated gym space at the most absurd hours of the night. Shouyou knows from experience, more than once pounding pavement on a treadmill in the dead of night to try and outrun his own racing mind. 

For once those thoughts are silent, as calm and peaceful as the empty lobby they're sitting is. It's so nice not having to run anymore. 

He slumps, relaxing under the easy, quiet atmosphere and company of his alphas. The shoulder he lands on doesn't stiffen up or pull away, only angles slightly so that he can be more comfortable. He takes advantage of an open palm, buries his face shyly against the alpha's deltoid when broad fingers immediately curl around his hand entirely. 

One imploring look cast to his left and Osamu shuffles closer, side to side and squishing him delightfully between them both. Extending his free hand isn't left free for long. Rough palms skimming the length of his inner arm leaves gooseflesh in its wake, but fortunately nothing is said in favor of Osamu busying himself with stroking at the narrowest dips of his wrists.

"Your friends seem..." Osamu tries, words falling short. 

Shouyou snorts, "Crazy, deranged, unhinged?" 

"Your words, not mine," Osumu defends softly, fondly, "They care about you."

"Yeah, they mean well," Shouyou agrees, then, "I swear they're not all insane." 

A deep, waving chuckle tickles at his ears from how close he is, the sound drags a tingle down his spine, molten and hot and heavy. The thumb dragging over his knuckles is soothing, giving him something to ground himself with. When he twists his palm up, Atsumu is quick to splay his palm flat against his own. It's sweet and soft with a hint of playfulness blended in, because occasionally fingertips skim just lightly enough to pull shudders from his oversensitive skin. 

It's overwhelming in the best way. Today offered a glimpse of more traditional alpha traits— that of aggression, strength, power. Brute force could come so easily to them if they felt so inclined, but there's never been a reason to suspect that either would abuse their innate ability to overpower or dominate. 

They aren't the type of alphas who play into those roles, those stereotypes. 

Shouyou isn't stupid, he understands how fundamentally different he will always be. As wily as he is, ultimately he'll never be able to stand against the full power of an alpha— no amount of time or training could ever pack on enough muscle to remotely come close. 

The difference is trusting that he won't have to ever worry about an abuse of power. 

Hands that he watched deal deafening cracks against a battered ball are being so gentle with him now. Scents that surly were biting and acrid in their frustrations are balmy and comforting now, and mix so prettily with his own naturally sweeter scent. There's a simple sort of satisfaction to just linger in the moment, unrushed and unhurried with no underlying subtext that an ulterior goal should be rewarded by the end of the night. 

Occasionally the silence is broken by stray comments or brief anecdotes from the day, and each time the richness of their voices makes it hard to concentrate on what's being said. Shouyou tries his best to pay attention, but his mind feels a bit hazy being so close to the source of the scents he's come to adore, the lulling quality of their tenor and cadence. He says as much when questioned if he's getting tired or not, tongue loose in his mouth from how relaxed he's become, and the resounding rumbles his answer earns rattles his heart a bit. 

At some point he switches from one shoulder to the other, preening at how easily the exchange goes. No fuss, no spike in scents or harsh words between the brothers, only silent shuffling to accommodate sharing who bears the small weight against them.

They're just so warm and comfortable, he sort of feels like he's floating. Fingers creep along a forearm, another weaves behind his lower back to curl around his waist. 

Gingerly and hesitantly all the while. He knows, intuitively, that the two are trying to take what they want but also providing enough space and time to be turned away. Shouyou is confident they wouldn't even be mad if denied, and gosh that does something to his poor heart. 

It's so cute, so endearing. 

He's felt small before, but not like this. This is good. Safe and wonderful and addicting. 

Without blocking patches, his scent has since bloomed to invade the immediate space around them. Summer and citrus, bright and cheerful— when was the last time he felt this happy, this utterly content? 

Shouyou feels like he might boil over from the wild thrumming in his veins. He wonders if he opens his mouth if butterflies might overflow from how many are churning in his belly right now. 

A coo, soft and airy, bubbles up. The twins smell just as content, and the low rumbles rattling into him from how tightly they're squeezed together only cements that fact. He latches onto the sound, the sensation, tries to commit it to memory— he doesn't really have any memories to even begin crafting this sort of scenario.

Not good memories, anyway. 

He hates that the day is ending, because if this brief little ripple in time has shown him anything it's that so many more pleasant memories will be on the horizon for him. And, he thinks, he's ready to be greedy, to ask for more and not feel less than for wanting what he wants. 

Oh, shoot— "What time is it anyway?" 

Atsumu fishes his phone from where it's become wedged between them, discarded and forgotten until now. Angling the phone causes the screen to illuminate. Shouyou squints at how bright it is, and when his sight adjusts he finally takes in how dark the sky has become. 

The answer that follows a beat later causes an actual curse to roll off his tongue. 

"What? What's wrong?" 

The last outbound train, the one he should be on right now, left the station roughly a half hour ago.

Chapter Text

It’s not like Shouyou has never been to an alpha dorm before, so craning his neck to peer up at the large brick building shouldn’t seem so ominous. Looming, the large brick building stands tall and imposing. Scattered pockets of light break up the otherwise dark facade and cast shadows in varying intensities down to where he stands. 

Dark clouds circled overhead in angry, fluffy plumes certainly add to the ambience, making the heavy apprehension in his chest all the more tangible. Less spectral, more corporeal— and a whole lot of something that can't be dismissed as giddiness turned suddenly to bashfulness. 

No, this is much deeper. 

He rocks on his heels, tearing his eyes away from the main doors with a heavy breath. 

That irritated huff is thankfully misinterpreted, for the alpha waiting beside him shifts on his feet as well before uttering a deprecating joke to make light of the situation. Truly, Atsumu's quip is funny— something or another about sharing a brain cell but the wrong brother entrusted with their keycard not in custody of said brain cell for the day. The laugh that trills between his lips in response sounds hollow to his ears, forced, and that only niggles at him more.

Waiting for Osamu to backtrack to the gymnasium for their keycard isn't the problem. Rather, the whole concept of entering the building at all is what’s tripping him up and… it shouldn't. Of all the problems he’s faced in his life, contending with the prospect of an overnight stay with his two alphas should not be one.

Hesitancy over something so normal shouldn't be an issue right now, but here he is— anxious for reasons so far removed from typical new relationship eagerness.  

Arms folded across his chest, the edges of his mouth twitch. A deep downturn creases into his skin, and after a moment he steels himself for the effort that will be needed to fully conceal just how vexed he is right now. Not with either of the twins, of course, but at the ghost of his past that refuses to give up its haunt so many months after the fact.  

Other than his stint with Tobio, visits to dedicated alpha spaces have always been brief, and always with others in tow should he linger longer than the span of a conversation. Overnight stays only ever happened with Tobio, and those nights became fairly scarce after Shouyou allowed the alpha into his nest for the first time. Which didn't take long, seeing as Tobio was awfully pushy about it. 

Stupid, so stupid. 

Yet another pesky learned association he has to unpack— gods , he's so tired of dealing with baggage. A ‘return to sender ’ option would be nice, but that's wishful thinking.

Facing more issues developed in the wake of a bad relationship really isn't a surprise at this point. He basically has a whole collection from the fallout their split caused, and for the most fleeting of moments he had hoped the worst of it had been sifted. Getting his head completely screwed on straight again will take time. He knew that right from the beginning, still knows that— but it's exhausting living in his overcrowded thoughts. There's so many that lately it's started to feel like a hoarder's den up in his skull, chock full of hangups with only a small closet cleared out as a concession. 

If only sorting through it all was as easy as purging the material remnants a certain ghost left littered in his personal space. Months ago he'd ripped and burned and destroyed every last physical token that spectre bestowed to him, but the resulting isolation in the vein of self-healing only provided safe harbor for dysfunctional beliefs to take root. Now all those buried issues, the more subtle ones easily concealed under the heap of the more glaring ones, are coming to light. 

It's sort of funny, actually. 

In a comedic tragedy sort of way, not a lungs on fire and knee slap kind of way. 

Briefly he had thought he'd been doing better, but stepping outside of his bubble has popped the false security that months of sequestering provided. Being free of that buffer has left him floundering and struggling to tread water when new waves sneak up on him. 

Like now. 

Being in the private company of his courtmates certainly should not make him hesitate. It's normal and fine and socially acceptable— but the fluttering in his chest says otherwise. A nauseating mixture of unsettling apprehension, the sensation is overwhelmingly heady in the worst possible way. It should be fluttering eagerness, anticipation…not, not this. 

The dread of expectation is suffocating. 

Smothering, in a symbolic sense, despite the physical absence of the alpha that conditioned these dysfunctional thought processes into him. 

Stupid. It's all so stupid. 

Shouyou rubs at his nose, subtly covering the sniffle he’s compelled to heave inward. The outward release is a shaky, white haze, and instinctually his hands brace at his upper arms in rapid passes of his palms. He’s not sure if he’s cold or self-soothing— maybe a little of both, given the circumstances. 

Somewhere along the line Shouyou has come to associate alpha denspaces with assumptions of physicality, and while he wants that— like really does, because they're gorgeous…he doesn't want just that. He especially doesn’t want to be wanted for just that, either. Staking the foundation of a relationship only on physical compatibility simply isn’t sustainable. It’s a lesson he’s painfully aware of from hard-won experience, and one he wants to avoid repeating at all costs. 

Forgetting his train time was a careless mistake.

He’s embarrassed, but more than that is the anxiety stemming from the only viable solution to this predicament. 

As a student, Shouyou isn’t exactly swimming in finances. Fare for private transport is out of the question. Impractical, too, seeing as a trip by bus or car would have him home shortly before daybreak— and what good are the twins offering to travel to see him instead the next day if he’s too tired to really enjoy their company? Overnight accommodations are equally expensive and not an option either. 

He had swallowed his pride by considering a more economic option, but the twins shot that down quickly with valid concerns. A mixed dynamic facility without a specified omega-only floor wasn’t something he or they were very comfortable with, and that type of lodging would be the only type he could reasonably afford even with the twins offering to assist with the cost. 

An overnight stay with his alphas had been the decided plan.

At first the prospect made his heart flutter and his cheeks dust pink. Restrained scentings managed throughout the day would be incomparable to stepping into their den. Those small exchanges have only made him crave more, and Shouyou has no doubts that their living space will be saturated in their scents. 

In his eagerness, it hadn’t taken much discussion for him to agree to the idea— but each step towards fulfilling that plan afterward felt heavier with each stride. 

Cool dread seeped in slowly, and steadily dragged lively conversation into something progressively quieter. Dwindling responses were passed off as tiredness easily enough when his mounting reticence was noticed. Sallow-faced and sluggish, Shouyou apparently looked the part enough to be convincing with only a few words to cement the excuse as fact. 

Leaning into the bitterness that threatened to well up had been terribly tempting, but Shouyou managed. Fully giving into that frame of mind would only distract him more, and the last thing Shouyou needs are negative distractions. Because the twins, physically exhausted as they are, have been so good to him. Spiraling into bitterness over issues rooted in the past will only diminish those efforts. 

Every little word or touch or glance has seemed purposeful, meaningful. Conspicuously grand gestures are nice and have their place…but subtly . 

Subtly takes effort, real effort, and that speaks so much louder than words or material gifts ever could. Unaccustomed as he is to such treatment, experiencing it in droves is a little overwhelming. As if he can’t quite believe those actions to be genuine— even though the twins have only ever been just that. 

For so long there was always some ulterior motive with a partner, something owed in exchange for affection or attention. Two alphas are accommodating those needs freely— eagerly , even. The concept is so foreign, and although he's thrilled and pleased, he also doesn’t know how to deal with worrying that it all might come crashing down. 

Shouyou wonders if that makes him desperate, the way he clings to every minor action or spoken word, hoping and praying to every deity he can think of that his heart won’t be broken again by opening it up again. Behavior like that sounds awfully desperate. Crosses the fine line that lies between reasonable safeguarding and paranoid hypervigilance. 

The worst part is he was never like this before. He knows what it's like to not be like this, and nothing has ever been so disorienting than trying to stumble his way out of the mental fog he's been lost in for so long. It’s yet another invisible tether to his past, keeping him docked to a port that should have been pushed off ages ago. 

If only it were as easy as buying a pair of scissors and cutting anxieties loose for good. Because that's what the twins are, good. Good and sweet and kind, exactly the type of alphas he needs in his life. The sheer contrast between them and relationships past is so striking, and Shouyou just feels like a proper moron for not seeing through his own idiocy sooner. 

Lumping them in with horrid alphas seems an equally horrid thing for him to do, but history often repeats itself, and the idea of reliving his past would be a nightmare made reality. Shouyou’s only consolation is that, no matter how unnerving that idea is…he just can’t picture the twins being that way.  

They’ve only shown him kindness and patience, a plethora of it, really— and Shouyou isn’t exactly sure what that says about the state of previous courtships. Bare minimum shouldn’t be the standard, yet that had evidently been the bar for him. But the twins have overwhelmed what he's come to hope for from a partner, and their relationship has literally only just begun. 

Shouyou is remiss to let any of those intentions go unnoticed.

Because in such a terribly short period of time, the connections forged have all become so incomprehensibly precious. 

Terrifying, but precious. 

And maybe, just maybe— 

Maybe his alphas are the final piece to chasing his spectral ghosts away for good. 

Relying on an alpha, or anyone for that matter, doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Valuing his independence shouldn’t have the heavy price of loneliness. Leaning into another's strength doesn't make a person weak, rather it's a strength in itself. 

Being with Atsumu and Osamu has made him start to believe that once-empty sentiment. 

Reaching out after being let down so many times is awfully frightening, however. As is having everything he's ever wanted within his grasp after being denied for so long. 

Storybooks like to regale bravery as saviors and mighty steeds, equate it with fantastic feats or magic. Real life is a foil to fiction, so much more subdued than fantasy. In reality, sometimes true bravery is merely gathering enough courage to take the first step forward. 

So he will.

He…sort of has to. 

Standing quietly as they are, it's obvious that all his worries have nowhere left to hide. 

Atsumu is casting glances at him with increasing frequency, and under such a sharp gaze he might as well be laid bare for how transparent the attention makes him feel. Like an open book, pages ready to spill all his secrets with nary a single word uttered between them. 

Tugging at the edges of his overcoat, he pulls the thick wool a bit tighter. It's a poor attempt at confining the scent that will reveal his anxiety should Atsumu catch wind of it. Done in the feeble hope of wrangling his emotions under control before the sharp, bitter edge to his scent can be noticed.  

Distantly Shouyou wonders if the shivering in his shoulders will stop if he can constrict himself tightly enough. It doesn’t. Not with how acutely Atsumu is watching every little movement, each minute twitch of his fingers furling and releasing around the lapels of his overcoat. 

Electricity zings along his spine, leaving small earthquakes in the path carved upwards and out to his trembling fingers. He's as good as prey like this, because once an alpha's attention is locked it's nigh impossible to dissuade the curiosity. If he can't get himself together quickly then Atsumu will know and— and— 

And Shouyou can't really imagine the blond being angry over it. Disappointment, maybe. Unraveling by disenchantment, a natural consequence to his internalized emotional deflection. Somehow that seems worse than a courtship going down in a heated blaze of chaos and anger. 

Pain stings beneath his ribs with how wildly his heart slams against its cage. The rattling in his limbs only grows stronger by the second. His fingers instinctually abandon the rumpled edges of his coat in favor of twirling into the soft folds of his scarf, adjusting it a bit higher across his lips and underneath his nose.

A subtle inhale causes him to pause, fingers twitching as disappointment settles in heavy and uncomfortable. 

Fabrics don’t hold onto scentings nearly as well as skin, and after a whole day of wear only residual hints of pheromones still cling to the fibers. He exhales slowly, purposefully controlled in measured seconds until his lungs burn with the exertion of it. Otherwise he’ll be tempted by the urge to drag in rapid, shallow breaths in search of the faded scents to soothe his apprehension. 

Atsumu glances at him again, and Shouyou just barely hangs onto the whine still relentlessly simmering in his throat. The alpha hasn’t even said anything, but Shouyou is struck with the impulse to begin babbling away, an inherent need to appease an alpha that isn’t even angry. 

The really messed up thing is how confusing that is for him. Expecting frustration or irritation shouldn't be normal, but his laundry list of conditioned expectations clearly dictates that it is for him. Any deviation only has him at a loss for what to do , how to handle an issue like a normal omega would. 

Because Shouyou can handle anger like a pro.

Anger is familiar. Primal and fast and mean, anger is passion backlit by adrenaline to sustain him through a crisis…but concern? Concern is soft and careful, patient. A wholly different sort of passion that Shouyou is so pitifully out of practice with, so unprepared to deal with while stressed. 

Avoidance is the only way he knows how to approach this. Otherwise he risks easing into old habits of defensiveness and barbed statements instead. Vulnerability only ever got him hurt in the past, and while he suspects that won't happen with either of the twins, letting go of ingrained fears isn't exactly something a person can just drop at a moment's notice. 

Smothering the whine down with a harsh gulp squashes the noise before words can bubble up on the backend. Silencing his voice is one thing, but a traitorous little whimper does worm free between his teeth. It's the sort of sound that acts like a magnet for alphas, much less ones courting the omega the sound came from— and, ah, crud. 

Forget occasional glances. Undivided attention is his reward for that slip-up. A multitude of thoughts flitter through his mind over it, a confusing mixture of pleased, omegan instinct and more, unhelpful anxiety. Atsumu's mouth is moving, but no words reach his ears over the static in his head. 

So many things could happen tonight. So many things could not. Two drastically different possibilities, with neither of them a clear winner. It's so weird to want something but be frightened by it at the same time. 

He misses his old self— the one ghost he wishes never left to be six feet under alongside his dead relationship. 

For the longest time reminiscing over happier days felt like traipsing through someone else’s memories, like some sort of weird outer body experience. A picture show prepared in memorandum of a full life lived but reflected upon for nostalgia’s sake. Resurrection hasn't been quick or pretty, no sudden burst back to normal or glittering enchantments like in storybooks. 

No, everything is gritty graveyard soil and torn fingernails from scratching at his coffin to escape. Rickety and slow, almost painful and sure as hell unstable as he relearns what it means to be human again. 

Impulsivity has been stifled for so long that it's hard to remember what it means to embody that quality. A deep part of himself is yearning to be spontaneous again, happy— free . Living in the moment was never something to be wary of before, because the only thing frightening about spontaneity was underutilizing it.

The twins bring that spark back in him, though. Kindle it so effortlessly. All he needs to do is let go , strike the match and watch the kindling catch into brilliant flames. Hope of basking in those long lost embers might very well be a fool’s errand, though. Shouyou's come to learn that hope is just a gamble disguised as something more palatable for those who are adverse to risk, and over the years, Shouyou became that type of person without truly realizing it. 

Anxiety over something so natural, something that used to come to him so easily is just…it's abnormal and pitiful. Which makes him abnormal and pitiful, too, doesn’t it? Causation doesn’t always mean correlation, but maybe in his case it does. Maybe he was right? 

Maybe— 

Warmth seeps into him. 

Concentrated at his back and threading along his flanks, it’s the type of warmth that initially clashes up against an opposing temperature. He shivers again at the juxtaposition, but thick forearms hold down the worst of the shudders, and yeah—there it is, the cozy balminess that eventually overtakes the surrounding chill. 

Shouyou swears he can hear his own heart beating in continued silence, and the only thing keeping the poor organ from rocketing off is an influx of Atsumu's scent. Juniper and bergamot are so much more intense right from the source, calming and steady— easily luring him out of his frantic headspace and into one more level. It's like all the static in his head abruptly ceases, as if the alpha found the remote to flip his mind to a different, functional channel. 

The squeezing pressure in his chest eases so rapidly that he sways a bit. Weightlessness is a strange sensation, makes him feel noodle-armed and ready to run a marathon all in one go. It's good though, in that tingly euphoric kind of way that only a good endorphin rush can provide. 

And that's exactly what this is. 

Pure, unadulterated endorphins surging into his system to prop up that floaty feeling anew. A good way to become touch starved is through isolation, and Shouyou isn’t dumb enough to believe that some degree of the condition has been avoided entirely. The severity, however, has been greatly underestimated. 

Even through the layers of his clothing, every inch that his body that has contact is alight with electricity. Heat is being pressed into him, and inside it’s as if all the tightly coiled tension of the day has combusted. A pitched, manically garbled laugh worms free, but Shouyou is too far gone to attempt excusing it as anything other than the emotional implosion that it is. 

And Atsumu, bless him, doesn’t even comment on it. Lack of commentary is a refreshing thing, because his whole life everyone has always had an opinion regarding himself—and, and to be afforded the chance to be the sole proprietor of his thoughts and choices, well, that only makes the alpha behind him all the more attractive as a person. 

It’s natural, Shouyou supposes, for others to be uncomfortable in the presence of internal strife on the display. In a way, the incessant chatter that tends to follow is just as much a defense mechanism for the observer as is the comforting intentions for the affected party. Sometimes, though, sometimes silence is all that’s really needed. A steady presence, companionship without influence. 

Pressure at the crown of his head signals that Atsumu has perched his chin there. Patient, even if patience is moreso associated with his brother rather than himself— which means Atsumu is putting effort into being the silent support that Shouyou needs right now. Serving as a pillar to hold him upright— in so many ways than just physically, opposed to other actions. 

Stepping back, affording grace, just simply isn’t in an alpha’s nature. Shouyou would never ask an alpha to completely reject that part of themselves, but knowing his alphas are willing to set aside inherent protective drives for his own benefit makes a good sort of pain weave into his ribs. 

Shouyou leans into him, cooing at the way those sturdy arms adjust to maintain their shared balance. He rests his palms along the exposed skin of Atsumu’s forearms, marveling at the warmth radiating off of the man, at the way he’s allowed to do as pleases without protest or commentary. 

Glancing down reveals tightly curled fists angled away from his body, perched in a respectful position. Not too high, not too low, intentions clearly meant to be purposeful rather than self-serving. That scent too, rich and woodsy, remains steadfast. Unwavering in the backdrop of assurance, in the man’s own confidence in his actions. 

Skimming his fingertips along the exposed skin causes the muscles beneath to flex, but Atsumu holds true, unwilling to make assumptions in favor of direct assent.

The corners of Shouyou’s mouth crease, really crease. For months Shouyou wondered if he was even capable of it anymore, yet happiness for the past week, quiet and loud and all the ways in between, has never lagged far behind when it comes to the twins. They have a way of drawing it out, keen on keeping his scent sweet and smile all the more so. 

It’s reassuring to know the ability can’t be hindered like this. If anything, being able to pull him above water so easily is more impressive than only being able to do so under normal circumstances. 

Alphas aren’t exactly renowned for patience or acquiescence. Especially when it comes to an omega, much less while courting and when instincts are further heightened. Pride and ego tend to get in the way, the innate impetus to showcase strength or dominance manifesting in a number of ways. Chiefly distraction, because dwelling in dark depths alongside a partner is so much more difficult than the alternative. It’s not as flashy or eye-catching, something courting alphas absolutely should be, but right now, at this moment, Atsumu is as good as a beacon. 

Prodding at a furled fist causes it to open, palm up and fingers splayed. 

Atsumu has such large hands, and aligning the alpha’s with his own only highlights the difference. Intertwining their fingers cements that fact, because his hand is nearly engulfed by the resulting overlap. Atsumu angling his thumb to swipe gently across the scent gland of his wrist is the most forward thing the alpha has done, but at the same time the action comes across as more caring than it does any other way. 

Unlike earlier, the stimulation to the gland is less charged. Slower, more paced opposed to the frantic exchange at the gymnasium following their win.

The bounding of his heart finally evens out under the attention. A slow, measured unwinding that’s as pleasant as it is relieving. Rhythmic passes of pressure against his wrist have his eyelids turning heavy, the overabundance of bergamot and juniper pull taut muscles loose and relaxed.  

“—ay?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Are you alright?" Atsumu repeats.

Honey is in his ears, warm and syrupy, and Shouyou feels like he might melt. Level and patient and far too soothing than the alpha has any right to be, Atsumu’s voice is bewitching. It can’t be anything else with how quickly a stammered reply rolls out of his mouth in answer. 

"I'm— I'm fine." 

The waver in his voice betrays the statement, his uncertainty. 

Well, he's beginning to feel fine. Leagues better than before. Thanks to the mountain of a man hunched over him— aware of him, perceptive and concerned. Subtle inflections in the alpha’s scent are telling, speak of a hypervigilance that’s born of instinct and maintained by free will. 

Draped over and around, the position can't be comfortable. Not with the severity of their height difference, but any small movement is matched by Atsumu. It kind of feels like a silly game children might play, copying and matching until someone trips up to win the game. 

A third attempt at shuffling his feet does spur Atsumu into action, making it Shouyou’s turn to play mime as his own feet automatically follow. 

The ledge of the steps feels like ice against his thighs, but the inferno against his spine and along his sides makes the bitter chill of the concrete inconsequential. There's so much warmth surrounding him that a sense of invincibility comes with it. Nothing else really matters. Not when he's tucked up close to his alpha like this, able to breathe in his scent and flanked on either side by thick arms and a splay of enviously lanky legs. 

Internalized issues aside, this— this is the safest he's felt in a long time. His heart aches something wonderful, heavy and full. 

He sighs, content. 

"Really?" 

Shouyou simply nods, far more interested in weaving their fingers together again than talking.

Reciprocation sends a thrill through him, the budding breathlessness in his chest only tempered by the subtle energy shift. Instead of the quiet stillness of before, the intertwining fingers and scent exchange is a more active affair. It's the only thing that hints at Atsumu's restlessness. 

Not the type of restlessness that indicates stress or irritation, but simply thinking. 

One thing Shouyou has noticed is that the blond typically doesn't remain motionless when mulling over a thought. They're alike in that respect— it's weird, but Shouyou swears that movement helps process more intricate details. Helps keep him focused from any number of distractions, big or small and anywhere in between. At the very least it explains how efficiently he's able to keep up such a brutal pace during a game and keep his wits about him. 

And that's exactly what the shift in how Atsumu is scenting him is. Gentle, rolling movements interspersed between firmer squeezes before the cycle repeats. Less languid, less slow. Shouyou can pinpoint right when Atsumu is about to speak, because it's like a timer going off— stillness snaps back into place. 

Hearing the alpha take in a breath in preparation to speak heralds in the announcement that his time has run out. Because his alphas are smart, observant and above all else kind. Not noticing how off he's been would lump them in with more inadequate alphas, and the thought of associating either of them with that stock is terribly unsettling. 

"Awfully thick coat on for you to have been shaking so bad." 

The slight twitch of his fingers against Atsumu's palm is all the confirmation needed. Weight plops back atop his scalp, Atsumu resigned to perch there as he waits. 

Patient. Calm .

It’s…strange, really. Confrontation has never gone as gently as this. Atsumu has noticed how odd he’s been acting, of course he has— hoping the man would be oblivious was foolish, in hindsight. Other alphas might be obtuse to things like this, preoccupied with other thoughts, but the twins aren’t like that. Constantly having to be reminded of their integrity because of his own preconceptions should be offensive, but again Atsumu shows him mercy he’s not accustomed to.

Rather than being affronted the blonde has merely pointed out the observation. Out in the open, but also open-ended, it's— it’s more than Shouyou has ever been given before. Statements, plain and acknowledging, over accusatory conflict shouldn’t be revolutionary, but here he stands in awe of just how shortsighted he’s been with his choice of past partners. 

Holding someone accountable translates so differently in the language of respect. Shouyou isn’t quite fluent in that language yet, but he can’t wait to learn. Discarding his mother tongue, one that’s only known belittlement and criticism, won’t be any trouble at all, he thinks. 

Tranquility from a companion is a delightfully contagious thing, and Shouyou is absolutely basking in the novelty. Shouyou honestly can’t remember the last time he wasn’t pressured to explain himself. 

If Shouyou wanted, he could deflect and Atsumu would very likely move on from the matter. 

But Shouyou doesn't want to stay quiet. There’s no impetus to, no reason to be on guard or defensive. Word choice doesn't need to be a calculated endeavor any longer, because maintaining any sort of ground isn't something he needs to concern himself with. Trusting another person not to instantly find fault or assign judgment is a staggering revelation, yet another to add to his growing collection. 

"Yeah, I—" He tries, "Just— just nervous, I guess." 

"Nervous?" 

"I mean, it's not you ," Shouyou rushes to clarify, "Or—or Osamu, either! Today was— it just. It was a lot…all at once, and now— now this . I’m— I’m fine, just, I dunno…nervous?"

After a few agonizing seconds, a heavy, relieved exhale sounds above him. There’s enough force to ruffle his hair, but at least the hands tangled with his own have settled back into place. During that impasse, while he stumbled over his words, Shouyou’s knuckles had gone white at the feeling of Atsumu trying to pull away.

Guilt stings in his gut, nauseatingly familiar and roiling. Not even a day and he's proven to be an inconvenience. It has to be some sort of record, and the notion that he’s upset one of his alphas already gnaws at him relentlessly. 

Maybe he should have just stayed quiet. Kept from being bothersome for as long as he could— 

“Yeah, we did spring courtship on you, didn’t we?” Atsumu says, chin back to using Shouyou as a personal prop, “You’re still good with it, right? If you said yes because you felt like you had to—” 

“ No !” Shouyou yelps, “No, of course not. I’m happy, really happy, just…” 

“Nervous?” 

“Nervous.” 

Whatever tension there was before dissipates quickly after that. Hardly any details as to why , specifically, Shouyou is so nervous have been disclosed, but he suspects that Atsumu has a general idea. The positioning of their bodies and the placement of their hands is a testament to that. Any other alpha would probably be taking liberties right now. 

Cuddling close on a chilly night is the perfect excuse for wandering fingers and bolder scenting, yet Atsumu remains content in how they are— simply waiting, using Shouyou as a personal chin prop while allowing Shouyou to twist their fingers together at will. 

Before he realizes, soft vibrations have started in his chest. The scent coming from his wrists has morphed into an even softer version of his base citrus and summer— sugary, like honied toffee, mildly sweet in an intriguing sort of way. If Atsumu wasn’t certain of his proclaimed happiness before, then there’s no doubting it now.  

Neither of the brothers have given any indication of assuming entitlement to his affection and certainly not to his body. In everything they’ve said and done, Shouyou has repeatedly been left with the impression that both alphas view any liberties as a privilege. Like they’re just happy to be there, not expectant— his chest is going to be sore later, he’s sure of it, but right now Shouyou feels like the luckiest omega on earth right now. 

“—ou?”

Shouyou blinks, the last few syllables of his name catching his attention. Craning his head slightly is enough indication for Atsumu to continue. 

"Me and 'Samu will stay downstairs, y'can take the room." 

"Oh, no, you—you don't have to do that, I—"

"Wouldn't be the first time we passed out downstairs." 

A husky chuckle on the end of that statement causes Shouyou to startle. When did Osamu arrive back? How long has the alpha been standing there? How much has he heard? Seen ? 

Heat prickles at his ears and nasal bridge as he wonders. It's not like it wouldn't have happened at some point, witnessing affection between them all, but everything is still so new.. . 

"Wh—" 

"Got a little carried away at the bar downtown," Atsumu laughs, mistaking his confusion for want of explanation, "Hammered straight off our asses first week back in the country." 

Shouyou pauses, wondering what kind of trouble two drunken Miyas could possibly subject the public to. Morbid curiosity wants to know how exaggerated their squabbles might become while inebriated, but— ah, focus . Another day, another conversation. 

Because couches? 

The offer is well meaning and appreciated, he can't— won't go along with that plan. He's not kicking the two out of their dorm just because he's an idiot who lost track of time. Just because he has issues he needs to work through; and with them, he knows he's safe enough to wade through the mess that's the ball of nervous anxiety mixed with happy eagerness. 

It'll be fine— he'll be fine. 

"Are you sure?" Atsumu tries again, "We don't mind, honestly." 

"The couches ain't that bad, actually," Osamu insists, "And you're not stupid." 

For the first time that day, Shouyou averts his gaze. Equal parts bashful and embarrassed, he's unable to maintain eye contact. Part or maybe even all of his thoughts have slipped free of his tongue, how mortifying. Osamu and Atsumu look so genuine that it's overwhelming. 

"Neither of you are sleeping on couches." He finally grinds out. 

A beat of silence punctuates his statement. Shouyou isn't the betting type, but if he was then he'd wager the shared eye contact occurring over the top of his head is some sort of twin telepathy. The two seem to do that a lot, able to communicate nonverbally and work around each other just as seamlessly as they can break into squabbling banter. 

It's cute when those conversations aren't involving himself, at least under this context. Maybe one day he can learn that silent language of theirs, integrate himself into the lexicon that he has no clue about currently, but for now he's left waiting for whatever conclusion the two will arrive at for his decision. 

"Alright," Atsumu begins softly, "But if you change your mind, say something, okay?" 

That low, even tenor warbles warm and rich in his ears, sending lava, molten and destructive, right down to his core. Atsumu has a nice voice— they both do, really. Soothing and devastating all at once, leaving him contentedly stranded in the crosshairs of it. Outwardly he bristles, hyper aware of the gooseflesh speckled along his limbs from the aftershock— and bless him, Atsumu mistakes the reaction for discomfort from the cold. 

Brisk friction against his upper arms precedes a series of brief pats, and then they're moving. Momentum floats him to his feet, Atsumu bracing at his upper arms to drag him upwards. Abrupt separation from the alpha's glorious warmth and scent has left him slightly dazed, but Osamu is quick to stand beside him. 

Tentative pressure at one shoulder morphs into a curling of fingers when he immediately sinks into the touch. Cedar and lavender are grounding. Similar but wholly dissimilar, the brothers' scents compliment each other out so well. 

He watches as Atsumu quickly gathers their belongings, two duffles and Shouyou's own messenger bag, before turning to trudge up the remaining steps. Asking for his bag only earns a refusal, flippant and lighthearted— teasing . As if wounded that Shouyou believes him incapable of carrying such a light satchel. 

It's sweet, toothrottingly so. The corners of his mouth uptick, enamored. Little gestures add up, and the twins seemingly seek out ways to prove how thoughtful and considerate they are towards him. 

Like how there’s a palm hovering near the center of his back, ready to steady him should he stumble on his ascent. The stairs aren’t egregiously steep or numerous, but there’s enough to be concerning when a slightly over-scented omega is trying to traverse them safely. Osamu stays close to him even as they approach the landing, reaching around him to take over holding the door from where Atsumu previously had it propped open with his foot. 

Once inside Shouyou drifts closer as they amble down the main corridor. A fleeting glance pulls that large hand to make contact. A brush of knuckles gives way to his hand being enveloped by Osamu’s larger one, and instantly Shouyou can feel his heart creak from the heavy lurch of it rocketing off again. 

“So this is the main floor. There’s a subfloor and a basement below that with a huge rec room, and down there is—” 

Oh, right. 

The twins are good hosts, and like good hosts a brief orientation to the building is being provided. 

Shouyou only feels marginally guilty that he is not even half-processing what’s being said. In the event of a natural disaster he’ll just have to follow their lead, because right now knowing a general layout of the place is the last thing on his list of priorities. 

Because much like his brother, Osamu radiates heat, and like a moth to flame he instinctually seeks out more of it. An encouraging squeeze to his hand is a rush, has him feeling lighter than air with a sweet smile stretched from ear to ear when Osamu playfully swings their conjoined hands back and forth in exaggerated movements. 

They bump against one another several times, each occurrence more impactful than the last, until a poorly contained giggle finally slips out. 

The sound causes Atsumu to pause and look back, and suddenly the pleasant buzzing in his chest stutters to a stop. 

Atsumu’s gaze flickers down to their intertwined hands then back up, wavering between Shouyou and Osamu. Shouyou thinks his heart might have dropped into his belly. 

Boundaries and expectations haven’t been discussed in detail yet— important things, like how more sensitive interactions amongst themselves should be handled. A single tandem scenting isn’t exactly enough to set the tone for an entire courtship, to understand each alpha's tolerance for divided time. Forming assumptions on one instance would be awfully presumptuous, not to mention totally unfair to them on an instinctual level. 

All alphas tend to be possessive to some degree. It's just in their nature, that impulsive need to monopolize resources to ensure survival. And on a purely biological level, that's what an omega is as far as nature is concerned. Mate sharing just doesn’t pair well with that instinctive tendency. It's exactly why dual courtships with multiple omegas are generally more successful than ones without.

Omegas are the ones with a natural affinity for collaboration and peacekeeping, not the other way around. Successful triads are possible, obviously, but every arrangement is different. 

Shouyou shouldn't have to remind himself of such basic things. Losing all sense of propriety when in their company is just so easy. Placing people on pedestals is dangerous business— because every person has their limits, and that's okay. 

Jumping ahead of himself isn't, though. 

Displays of affection might be able to be given freely and openly one day. After the courtship is well established. When the threat of one alpha potentially becoming competitive for sole access to the omega has lessened. 

But now ?  

No, not now. 

It's inappropriate and unbecoming as the courtship center. Not to mention he's already gotten carried away twice in—what? Not even half an hour? He's a complete disaster over these alphas. Good gods, who ever heard of wrecking a relationship because someone was too attracted to their partners? 

“Anyway," Atsumu smiles , "The roof's almost done being reno’d. Whole dorm’s itching to have a party up there once it’s finally done." 

Stunned, the apology simmering on his tongue fizzles out. 

Of the many reactions he could have imagined, complete disregard was not on his list of potentials. Shouyou rubs at his temples with his free hand, attempting to ease the tension that’s been plaguing him the past hour or so. 

If there was a way to just turn off his overreactive thoughts that would be awesome. Racing thoughts and unfounded anxiety is the common thread to all of his discomfort tonight. 

A reassuring squeeze of his hand causes him to smile, and when he glances up he finds Osamu looking right back. 

"Are you alright?" 

He quickly turns away, afraid he might stumble over his own feet under such imploring grey. 

“Ah, yeah,” He replies, eyes forward, “Just tired.” 

Which isn’t a lie. After a day like today, anyone would be. Don’t get him wrong, today was good— wonderful , even, just— 

“Today was a lot on you, huh?” Osamu ponders. 

Inwardly, Shouyou withers a little bit. The phrasing is a little too on the mark from earlier. Osamu isn't the type of man to mince words, so the statement all but confirms his earlier suspicions. Heat prickles into place along the nape of his neck, chagrined over being correct in something he'd hoped not to be. 

One temple pulses, stressed. Decoding Osamu’s statement has answered one question but presented several more. Namely how nonplussed the two seem over it. They're extraordinarily patient alphas, but for all the dynamics studies courses he's taken, the amount they've put forth borders a little on abnormal. 

He's not complaining , really he's not. 

Just confused and in a terrible habit of overthinking. 

Shouyou sighs softly, nodding as he drifts into the warmth flanking him. 

It was a lot. Still is, but the good far outweighs any nervousness or anxiety that might try to tip the balance. He can see that more clearly now, especially with how beautifully the two have handled what could have been several very awkward moments for all three of them. 

Trust is a scary thing to give to another person, because trust is fragile and delicate. Easy to break, difficult to mend. Gifting such a precious thing and seeing it broken so many times is anguishing, but taking that chance again with the twins is one he’s willing to take. 

Wriggling his hand free, Shouyou closes the last gap of space. Osamu, ever perspective, tucks him in close. Fresh cedar fills his lungs, bellies him with a sense of contentment. Maybe even a touch of freedom, because it sure feels like a heavy chain has been unshackled. 

A few steps ahead Atsumu has already approached the elevator doors— which, wow, fancy. The dorm he calls home is much older and lacks such luxury. 

"What? How d'you get all your stuff to the upper floors? You're a few flights up, right?" 

"Stubbornness," Shouyou replies, "There's always alpha student volunteers on move-in day, but…" He pauses, nose scrunching, "I swear the stinkiest alphas sign up to help every year. It's like a game for them to touch everything , I swear."   

The rest goes unsaid. Shouyou trusts the two to fill in the blanks of his statement. Omegas can be terribly picky about their nests, and Shouyou happens to be one of them. Strange alphas pawing at his things and stinking up his supplies just isn't something he has the patience to deal with. Committing to the task of hauling his belongings by himself is enough to establish how particular he is. 

Atsumu peers over his shoulder as the double doors ding open, "You'll be alright overnight with us, right?"

"Well, yeah," He says, "You're not strangers to me, and you— you both smell really good, so." 

Evidently the statement is more than enough to mollify judging by the bright grin aimed in his direction, by the contemplative hum of acknowledgement beside him. The hand at the small of his back feels giant as he’s guided inside, grounding in the wake of Osamu’s deep tenor as the alpha speaks.

“You hear that, ‘Sumu? No dragging your feet on our move-out day, we’ll be on pack mule duty afterward.”

Shouyou laughs, a mixture of startled amusement, “You don’t have t—” 

“Why wouldn’t we?” 

“Um—”

“Yeah, what do I gotta do to earn pack mule privileges?” Atsumu says dramatically, heaving the collective weight of all the bags he’s carrying, “I’m a walking resume right now.” 

“ Stop. ” Shouyou laughs, all teeth and squinted eyes. 

When he opens them, two sets of eyes are on him. Rugged features have pulled into something more boyish, now physically matching the charm that's enamored Shouyou for the past week. Not for the first time does Shouyou marvel at the duality both alphas are able to pull off— hard and cut one moment, the epitome of their alphan dynamic, and now this. Easy and gentle, soft . 

The lift chimes, shrill and mood killing as the double doors open up to a crisp hallway with evenly spaced doorways on each wall. 

They come to a halt midway down the long corridor. 

A gold name plate is inscribed with a common surname, and just below that a title to accompany the name. Decades ago it would have been an adult, like a dorm mother or custodian. Nowadays upperclassman take the rank, more often graduate students in exchange for free housing and an attractive tuition discount. 

With the way Atsumu is casually throwing out insults to the person beyond, Shouyou is certain the dorm lead will be a fellow student. 

A few minutes and a handful of loud bangs are needed to rouse the person inside. The ruckus causes several neighboring doors to creak open before the one Atsumu is assaulting does. After a few cursory glances those doors close back up again, but Shouyou still shuffles on his feet awkwardly. 

Somehow he's even managed to cause problems for alphas who aren't even his. 

A voice, gravelly and rough, filters out from within the darkness when the door finally begins to open. Disheveled and sleep-mussed, the guy blearily listens as Atsumu explains the circumstances for their late night visit. At the end, Atsumu requests a certain set of forms, and it’s this request that kickstarts the bleary alpha into speaking. 

"Really, dude? You couldn't, I dunno, took him to a hotel or something?" 

"Why? You offering to pay for it?" 

Tired eyes lock onto Shouyou with a squint. 

Unlike with the twins, he can hold eye contact without wavering with this alpha. Confrontation is so much easier to navigate than the squirmy, floaty feelings that meeting his alpha's eyes causes, and that damaged part of himself relishes in the familiarity snark has given him towards this stranger.

Yellow irises go impossibly narrower, irritation rife both in body language and the bitter pheromones leaking into the air. More snark brews in his mouth, and Shouyou needs to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking if the alpha needs to fetch his glasses. 

Undeterred, Shouyou repeats Atsumu's request for the required forms. 

The alpha stands there a few more seconds, arms crossed and face terse as he studies Shouyou. He can't quite place it, but the alpha does look vaguely familiar. Being in sports has that effect, though. Home or away, Shouyou meets and sees a ton of people just by simply being an athlete. 

"C'mon, man," Osamu tries, "We're all tired, it's been a long day." 

At that the alpha redirects his attention to the twins, taking in their appearance. They're still dressed in their uniforms, although sneakers have been replaced with more comfortable slide-on shoes and baggy sweatshirts hastily thrown on atop their jerseys. Even if this guy didn't attend the game, he can probably put together context. 

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." 

Shuffling and rough bumps can be heard from inside the room. Nosey, Shouyou peers around the doorframe. Inside is a veritable mess, as if a tornado has ripped clean through. Clothing is strewn everywhere along with books and papers and all manner of personal belongings. Borderline lewd posters are plastered along the walls. His nose wrinkles in distaste, because the smell isn't very favorable either. 

Soon enough the alpha is back, clipboard in hand with the appropriate sheet affixed to it. Shouyou politely declines the proffered pen. He doesn't particularly want to touch anything that this alpha has after seeing the man’s living conditions. An amused scoff poorly disguised as a cough rings in his ears as Atsumu holds his messenger bag open while he retrieves his own pen instead. 

Idle chit chat starts up between the alphas as he begins writing, topics completely off-base to the matter at hand. 

Standard questions comprise the form, as expected. Most are easy enough— his name, dynamic, school, emergency contact information. The one question he stumbles over is his personal affiliation to the twins. 

Affiliation doesn't matter as much as it did a decade or so ago. Back then overnights were essentially treated as conjugal visits and approval contingent on proof of bondship. Groundwork for more progressive policies have rendered that particular question nearly irrelevant. The question is now nothing more than a standardized question for record keeping, but it still feels a little invasive. 

As is the requirement of verbally confirming his responses. Regulatory bodies claim it’s a safeguard to prevent sexual coercion toward omegas, but Shouyou considers it a waste of everyone’s time. Presuming the man before him is literate, having to repeat his answers in verbal form is peak redundancy. 

"Yes," He sighs, "We're courting." 

Confused, the alpha clarifies, "Okay…but both?" 

Confirmation earns him a critical expression. 

Generalizations notwithstanding, Shouyou hasn't given too much thought on how this courtship might be perceived. Courtships involving multiple people aren't super common, but triads aren’t unheard of. Every instance that Shouyou has ever heard of has involved unrelated alphas, however, now that he thinks about it. Courting two alphas of the same family, siblings no less, is unusual, all things considered. The tense little standoff happening right now is proof enough for how others might react upon realization of that fact. 

Silence yawns between them, awkward and frozen. 

He shifts on his heels, stubbornly withholding additional details or context unless directly prompted to do so. Continuing to subject himself to this stranger’s judgment is unpleasant, but he’s certainly not going to defend or justify his choices to the guy either. Personal business is just that, and the only opinions that matter are his own and the twins. 

"Really?"

“That a problem?” Atsumu utters, jawline taut and shoulders puffed up to make him appear all the more imposing. 

Behind him, Osumu’s hand is curling into the fabric of his overcoat. He frowns at that, already dreading the wrinkles that are undoubtedly being twisted into the fine fibers. 

Shouyou only feels marginally bad imagining how unfair of a fight between either of the twins and this twig of an alpha would be. Tumbling over unwanted opinions would be a silly thing to fight over, but that primal part of his mind is itching for just that. There’s absolutely no threat to himself or to their courtship, but a display of strength to beat a bad review out of someone sounds super appealing nonetheless.  

"No, no, not at all." The guy pacifies, palms up. 

Shouyou isn’t convinced of that, not in the slightest. A cutting bitterness has bled into the air, his alphas apparently just as annoyed as he is with this whole discussion. The acrid pheromones are probably what have the other alpha backtracking, not genuine apology for offending them. 

“Great.” 

“Can I just sign now?” Shouyou states blandly, ready to be done with this already. 

Other than the scratching of pen against paper, the flourishing of his name and initials in the required spaces is punctuated by more silence. Afterward, Atsumu and Osumu take turns squeezing their own notations into the remaining sections. It’s a little amusing seeing how overcrowded those areas are— the empty spaces aren’t really designed to hold multiple signatures. 

The clipboard is shoved into the waiting alphas hands afterward without preamble. A hand at his lower back encourages his feet to begin moving blessedly away from the soured scent of old sweat and dirty socks. 

“Miyas,” The alpha calls, “Listen, next time Red here ‘ misses the train’ just, I dunno, slide a note under my door or something. Too damn late for this shit.”

Shouyou abruptly stops, forcing Osamu to stumble and sidestep to keep from bowling him over. Cheeks puffed up and hands on his hips, Shouyou probably makes a comical sight. 

"Oh, I’m sorry, it must be so hard doing your job." 

" Wow ." The alpha says, "Good luck with that Miyas." 

The door abruptly slams shut, any further commentary effectively cut off.  Gentle pressure at his elbow guides him away and back the way they came. 

"Don't worry about him," Osumu says, "He was being a jerk." 

"Guy sits around mad 'cause he can't get an omega and wonders why." Atsumu quips. 

The elevator doors open near instantly after the button is pressed, lift at the ready from its last use. Metal doors cut off the lingering foul scent trailing behind them. He rests his cheek against a sturdy bicep, cooing at how easily the man adjusts and accommodates the scent-seeking.

Commentary on others isn't really something his mother raised him to do, but the words tumbling out of his mouth can't possibly be stopped. He has excellent credentials for his assessment, afterall. That brief moment told him all he needed to know.

“But how can anyone resist that sparkling personality or pigsty chic?” 

Snickering helps simmer the irritation brewing under his skin, anger deflating right out of him as he joins in the shared mirth. The sound of their laughter makes his heart race, and in a fit of bashfulness he hides his face by studying his shoes as they wind down the long corridor.

The twin's room is roughly at the halfway point of the hall, and as they come to a stop all remnants of his prior agitation has dissipated entirely. Anxiety, likewise, has given way to ruckus laughter. Polite chuckles couldn’t stay subdued for long, quickly evolving into something deeper, more gleeful. Right from the center of his chest and overflowing at the corners of his eyes from how breathless the two keep him. 

It feels good, reminiscent of the carefree days he once believed to be lost forever. Things are just easy with them like that, and knowing the burden can be shared evenly has him feeling weightless. 

A brief moment to insert the key he’s being ushered into the open room. 

Soft shadows are cast along the walls from a table lamp that’s been left on. Once his eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, the first thought that comes to mind is cozy . Tidy, too, with the exception of slightly mussed bedsheets and a shirt draped across the back of one desk chair. But that’s fine— because the space is clean, and smells even better. 

Unsure of exactly where he should stand, he wanders off to the side a bit to allow them the space to settle in. 

Atsumu roughly tosses the duffle bags to their respective lofts before ducking beneath one to settle Shouyou’s messenger bag on— oh, there’s an entire couch nestled beneath one of the lofted beds. 

For such a comparatively small dormitory, the way they’ve arranged the room is clever. Lofting their beds has opened up enough floor space for a full couch. Across from that is an impressively sized entertainment setup with a small fridge squeezed in as well. As tall as they are, there’s really no need for a ladder to hoist themselves into bed, so instead they’ve pushed a desk to each end. 

“This is nice.” He says, fully appreciative of the distinct absence of half-naked bodies adorning the walls. 

A few photos are spread across their desks, and a mixture of frames— actual, real frames, are hung around the walls.

“Tsumu watches a lot of home decorating shows.”

Abruptly a book goes flying from out of nowhere, a heavy thump sounding against the wall just behind Osamu’s head. Dodging is an acquired skill, Shouyou assumes, because Osamu’s movement to avoid a direct hit was far too smooth to be anything else. An argument springs up immediately in the aftermath, defensive statements against offensive ones, each brother attempting to secure their words as truth— “Don’t believe him, he lies, Shouyou.” 

“I took your stupid pudding once ! We were like seven!” 

“See?” Osamu deadpans, “ Last week , Sho. Last week.”

“What the— I asked! I always ask now.” 

“Yeah, when you get caught!”   

Atsumu groans, exacerbated and hands in the air, apparently ready to continue defending his honor when his mouth snaps shut. Rapid bangs against either side of the room effectively plunges all three of them into silence— which lasts all of two seconds before Shouyou has to forcefully stifle the chorus of giggles wanting to erupt from his throat. The whole situation is utterly ridiculous, utterly perfect. 

Heat dusts across the bridge of his nose, a mixture of laughing so hard and being encased in such thick outerwear. Once unbuttoned the heavy garment is lifted up and away for him. Osamu directs him to the couch as Atsumu threads his coat onto a clothes hanger for safekeeping. To anyone else these would be such simple gestures, but they make him feel noticed. Cared for in a way that isn’t patronizing. 

The two excuse themselves after gathering up a change of clothes and toiletries. 

Quick rinses post-game or practice will get a person clean, but there’s nothing quite like a hot shower before turning in for the night. There’s something to be said for crawling into bed squeaky clean. Shouyou swears a bed feels just that little bit more comfortable. 

Before stepping out, the offer to loan him a towel and spare toiletries had been made but he quietly turned the offer down. Shouyou is definitely the type of person who prefers a shower before bed, but his skin is far too sensitive to be borrowing alpha-geared products. Fortunately today hasn't been physically taxing, so a deviation in his routine won't be too awful. 

“I’ll be fine," He had said, "I can get some travel sized bottles in the morning.” 

His stomach swoops. Excited nervousness is in full swing again, only this time without the debilitating anxiety of earlier. He's thankful for that, thankful for the alphas who have given him ample reason to trust them implicitly. 

Morning . Morning means that he’ll be here until daybreak. If there’ll even be one— the weather report is beyond bleak. What should have been a pleasant weekend is now forecast by heavy downpours and dreary skies…which, maybe— maybe that’s not such a bad thing. 

Staying confined to his alpha’s denspace is not something he’ll be caught complaining about. The space is saturated in their combined scents, and what little residual pheromones have mixed in with. 

His skin has been tingling ever since removing his coat and scarf, glands at his wrists and neck and other places eager to be swiped over all manner of surfaces and skin alike. Those tragically brief exchanges at the gymnasium were nice, but paltry when privacy and the expanse of an entire night can offer. 

Wallowing in cedar and bergamot for hours on end sounds like a dream. As is eventually returning to his own campus, thoroughly scented and parading around the lovely mixture of all their combined scents. People might react unfavorably as the alpha earlier did, but Shouyou doesn’t care, not when his head and chest are buzzing so pleasantly like this, not after experiencing happiness after a seemingly never ending drought. 

It really is a shame that there's no decorative pillow to scream into right now. Atsumu must have missed the lesson on the importance of such things and the benefits they bring outside of design value. Benefits such as an ability to yell into the void from sheer giddiness and not give neighbors the impression that the screaming is from distress or injury. 

The neatly folded shirt to his left serves as a substitute to muffle the strangled noises pouring out of him instead. 

A reminder, too, of the totally new predicament this abrupt sleepover has presented him with.

Shouyou may have dressed nicely for his outing today, but the thing about nice clothes is they often make poor loungewear. After such a long day in fitted clothing, his skin is itching to be dressed in something softer. He’s done nowhere near the level of physical exertion as the twins, but his body aches to melt into a comfortable surface and just relax— really relax, now that his mind has calmed. 

Crossing the room, he uses the closet door as a makeshift partition. 

Spacing out, getting inside his head and thoughts, has truly been a double-edged sword today. Sorting through his issues is good, in the grand scheme of things, but it also comes at the price of time. Seconds or minutes, blocks of it, time likes to slip away quickly no matter the increment, and right now is no different. 

There’s no telling when they might return, so placing a solid barrier between himself is the only thing he can do. The last thing he needs is to be startled while in a state of undress. 

First is his shirt. He folds it neatly and drops it to the surface of the desk, then moves on to his belt.

A series of rapid knocks rap at the door when he’s halfway done peeling his jeans from his legs. His heart flutters, appreciative and full. Consideration seems to be ingrained in those two—

“—decent?” 

“Ah—” He calls, hopping on one foot, “I’m good!” 

He nearly falls, stumbling around when his foot refuses to come loose from the tapered end of one pant leg. 

“Really? Y’sound like a bull in a china shop in here.” 

Shouyou steadies himself with one hand gripped tightly onto the closet door and body flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t break anything,” He defends, “You try taking jeans off like this while standing up and tell me how easy it is.” 

“Hmm, nah,” Atsumu says. He can hear both twins rummaging about, loud clunks and a concerningly loud shriek piercing the air, “Ain’t got enough ass for jeans like that like you do.” 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“No really, what did you say?”  

“Nothing,” Snorting, Atsumu sounds completely unconvincing, “You’re losing it, crazy people hear voices, you know that, right?” 

There it is again, a deep laugh right from the center of his chest. Breathlessness stings so good, heat burns like a balm in his face. Atsumu’s brand of humor has been one he’s acclimated to easily. Teasing and playful amidst flirtatious statements is just the right balance to keep him on his toes, but not left feeling awkward either. The competitive part of himself really wants to snap back, engage the alpha into a cycle of banter. 

“Pretty sure my thighs are the problem, but okay.” 

“Wouldn’t exactly call that a problem.” Shouyou swears he hears Osamu murmur that, which only makes him laugh again. 

“Oh really?” 

“Definitely not.” 

Shouyou chuckles as he pulls the borrowed shirt over his head. Overlarge, the neckline sits at an angle across his collarbones. He plays at the hemline, the edge skirting around midthigh, considering. He could request a pair of drawstring shorts or something, but the length is acceptable enough. 

A painful sounding crack precedes a string of curses, followed by a snickering laugh.

He peeks around the door, “What are you two even doing —!” 

Atsumu braces the top of his skull, having thwacked it against the underside of the lofted bed frame. He’s kneeled on the edge of the now extended couch, fingers threaded through dampened blond hair to brace at his scalp. Suddenly the firmness of the couch makes a lot more sense— a hideabed is being set up for him, nearly done save for one undressed corner of the mattress and one alpha nursing what will probably be a solid lump in a few hours. 

“Are you—” 

“ Fine ,” Atsumu hisses, “Mildly concussed, but fine.” 

Automatically he begins to step forward, but is cut off as Osamu interjects, unable to resist ribbing at his brother’s misfortune. Considerable effort is needed to keep himself from laughing at Osamu’s taunts, because the other’s claims of Atsumu and his dramatic tendencies leads to yet another squabble. 

It’s the most productively chaotic incident Shouyou has ever witnessed. Efforts to one-up eachother’s statements doesn’t hinder their progress at all, the merely two continuing on while heckling simultaneously. 

He sidesteps a bit to stay out of the way and waits out the conclusion. A litany of blankets and extra pillows are being pulled from the closet to be piled onto the mattress. Realistically Shouyou knows this stash of items are intended for any guests, but the fact that they're prepared at all has warmth bubbling in his chest. 

The most he'd expected for such an abrupt pivot in his overnight plans had been a spare throw and balled up sweatshirt for a substitute pillow. Yet here he his, hip leaned against a desk as he watches two alphas flitting around to set him up an entire bed, clean sheets and all. Reliable, respectful, patient, protective— Shouyou has really hit the jackpot hasn't he? 

Arms crossed, he smiles for probably the hundredth time that day.

"Hey, Shouyou?" 

Anxiety is such a weird thing, because now— now he doesn’t even understand why he was ever worried in the first place. 

"Hmm?" 

"This'll be enough blankets right? Pillows?" 

Ah, he forgot to add considerate to his list just now. It's cute, really. Alphas can be off the mark a bit when it comes to estimating how much or little an omega might need to feel comfortable while sleeping. The veritable mountain piled high for inspection is more suitable for a lean nest rather than a place to rest his head for the night, but the idea of nesting literally in the middle of their denspace isn't a terrible idea. 

Especially because that's not their intention, not in a traditional sense anyway. 

He can tell in their body language, their scents. No ulterior motives are in play, just an eagerness to provide in whatever capacity Shouyou wants to accept. He's heavily leaning towards nesting outright, even though it's been ages since he's had an audience for that. Heat pulls into his cheeks, bashfully happy, because he really likes the sound of that. 

"Yeah, that's— that's plenty to work with." 

Pride is a good look on them. All bright eyes and easy grins, they look just about as content as he feels, and certainly smell pleased with themselves. The room is starting to be reminiscent of  sweetened bonfires at this point, a perfect mixture of all three of them. Like the perfect summer he's never really had, but quite possibly might get to live out in every season. 

Shouyou has always been a fast nester. Mapping out how and where fabrics or pillows should be placed is something that he does efficiently. Tonight would be no different, only he purposefully takes his time. Movements are drawn out, slow and exaggerated. It’s thrilling, being at the center of attention like this. He can practically feel two sets of eyes boring into him, rapt and now silent, those petty arguments long since abandoned in favor of something far more appealing. 

Circumstance may have been the catalyst to get him here, but ultimately he’s here of his own free will— and he trusts them not to pressure him into anything he doesn’t want to do. 

Control is a gift, one that he’s always only ever had the illusion of once the gritty details of past courtships have been laid bare for what they were. And now that control is in the palm of his hands to wield however he wants, he— he sort of wants to slap a return to sender label on it. To fully embody the wilder side of himself that’s been dead and buried for far longer than the period of time he’s been single.

But he’s not single anymore, not by a long shot. 

Two alphas have taken an interest in him— two amazing alphas that have been patiently earning his trust in both words and actions. 

Tempting alphas can be such a dangerous game. Alphas are alphas, afterall, and part of the reason for all those forms is to ascertain that an omega understands the risk of entering a building chock full of them. Society has come a long way, but instincts are ancient imperatives and suppressants aren’t infallible. Pressing one’s luck will always be a gamble, no many how safeguards are in place— that’s where due diligence enters, where a certain level of accountability is needed to know when limits lie unless lines are ready to be crossed 

Shouyou isn’t entirely sure how many lines he wants to cross just yet, or how quickly, but he trusts the two not to break into a sprint right at the starting line. Breathing room is such a nice luxury, and he’s beginning to wonder how he ever tolerated a lack of it before. He doesn’t suffer crowding or intimidation in any other aspect of his life, but somehow the exception weasled into his personal life— his alphas have taught him to not accept less than that by virtue of their own behavior. 

It’s beautiful, they’re beautiful— they smell even better, and his nest is done. 

Seated in the upper center, he looks at them. He wonders if they’re even blinked this entire time with how closely they’ve been watching. Having those eyes snap to his own causes butterflies to thrash violently in his belly, eagerness made tangible, until the pressure needs to escape in the form of a softly uttered request— “Can we scent? I’d like that.”