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The first day.
Two young Omega arrived at the office that day.
One, kicking and screaming, dragged by police. Flushed with heat, and with shredded clothes hanging off their body.
„We found them like this,“ an officer says. „We can’t find their home.“
They have no ID, give no name, and refuse any questions from staff or police. Brought inside, they shove away an offered blanket.
The other one arrives shortly after. The doorbell rings, and the door opens to a kindly smiling face, stood straight with his hands folded.
„I heard you help Omega in need,“ he says. „I need a discreet place to stay.“
A gushing wound gapes from his neck to his shoulder, soaking a silk shirt, and they usher him inside quickly. He is Atem Sennen, they recognize him easily from newspapers and television.
„Come, come!“ Staff urge him to a visitor’s chair in front of a work desk. „What happened to you?“
Another Omega sits hunched at a second desk, growling and swiping at helping hands. Their sweet leather scent fills the room.
Atem sits, hands laced in his lap. „I just need help please.“
„You need the hospital.“
Staff brings a first aid kit, while another pleads the other Omega: „Won’t you let yourself be checked at the hospital?“
„Fuck no!“ The other screams.
„No,“ Atem says simultaneously.
They flinch up, hazy eyes glaring from Atem’s eyes down his shoulder. Their yellow and red spiked hair is clotted in dirt. Sweat pearls on their face. Bruised shoulders to breasts and hips are tinted bright pink. Heat.
Atem inclines his head in greeting but they jerk away, fleeing from approaching staff. „We’re only trying to help you!“
„I don’t fucking need help. I’ll fuck them up,“ they cry into scraped knees, nails digging into their sides.
„Alright, I understand. You don’t have to go,“ Atem is told. He is asked to remove his shirt and bra, and he does, peeling the strap from his wound.
He is cleaned and treated. He intertwines trembling hands in his lap. He hurts.
„FUCK!“ Their guttural scream has Atem look. Crumbled to their knees, they rip the cloth off their chest. „Nothing happened!“
Staff is trying to calm them but they’re panting. „Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Their scent is going haywire. Their body shines with sweat.
They freeze when the blanket is laid around their shoulders, and clamp around it when staff steps back. „We have suppre—“
„I don’t need your shitty suppressants!“
Atem winces when his bandage is wrapped too tight but waves off an apology. He hopes his smile distracts from his shaking hand before he can tie it with his other again.
He feels the other’s watchful gaze and returns it, but they don’t hold him. Staff tries to pacify them, offers help again. Their scent lessens and alongside, they relax.
„Alright, all done.“ A gentle hand places itself on Atem’s newly wrapped shoulder, and he tries looking up as he thanks staff. Pain digs into his nape and he lowers his head again, pulling a browning bra strap back.
He crosses his arms. The other has gone quiet. „Do you have a place to stay?“ they’re asked but don’t answer.
„The refuge currently only has one room available,“ Atem is told. „Though it has two beds, you won’t be made to share. We’ll find a safe living space for both of you.“
„For free?“ the other asks without looking up.
„Of course! You don’t have to worry about money, food, or Alpha and Beta.“
Their hands tighten around the blanket. They glare at Atem with territorial threat but he merely smiles. „I don’t mind sharing. If you don’t mind then neither will I.“ They turn to the floor.
Staff looks confused. „We promise that’s not necess—“
„I can share.“ The other’s scent permeates the air once more. They flush.
„Then I believe that’s settled?“ Atem addresses staff, and after a few exchanged looks they relent and confirm. The other’s stare bears into him. He doesn’t bother acknowledging it.
They are taken to the refuge in secrecy and without much talk. While the other keeps flicked about, haunted and unbelieving, Atem keeps to himself. They arrive quietly, and are guided inside without meeting anyone else. Shown kitchen, bathroom, and their new room.
The room is tiny, barely enough for two beds and between them a nightstand with a clock. A thin closet, a small desk and chair.
They are given new clothes, explained about the schedule and invited to introduce themselves the next morning. They both decline, Atem less harshly than the other. They are left alone, and Atem changes into the given t-shirt and shorts with childish prints. It was the only the refuge could offer in their size.
The other sits on the floor against the nightstand. Atem fits the sheets on his bed. They dropped their clothes by their bedside and still hug the blanket close. Occasionally, they pant and squirm and their scent pours out, but most the time, they just glare at the floor.
They exchange no words and Atem doesn’t mind. He sits on his bed in the far corner facing the door and hugs pillow and knees to his chest.
Dinner is the only reason Atem leaves his newly acquired spot. Or for the other to stir at all. Atem receives two plates at the door, and after staff leaves, divides them between them. He sits back in his corner while the other wolfs down their portion. He only takes a few bites before he can’t stomach more.
Eventually, their plates are collected, and they return to silence.
He hurts.
The room is dark. The brick wall out the window has turned black. The house is quiet. The clock’s display shines an eerie red light over two untouched water bottles beside it.
Lights out has passed. The house is asleep.
Atem isn’t and neither is the other. He is sure even when they sit completely still.
He stares at the wall. There are other Omega here. He hugs his pillow tighter. He needs to go to the bathroom.
He lays his head on his knees.
The other tosses their blanket, and Atem flinches. They stand bare breasted, and only acknowledge Atem’s silent question in passing as they pick up their clothes and make for the door.
„Are you going to the bathroom?“
They stop with a hand on the handle. „Yeah.“
Atem jerks straight and abandons his pillow. „Do you mind if I come along?“
They watch him shove to the bedside.
„I need to go too.“
They shrug and open the door. Atem takes it as a yes and follows, hurrying to walk closely behind their back. The hallway is illuminated by a small bunny shaped nightlight casting fuzzy shadows as they pass.
Atem tracks multiple other doors lining the way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He stalls but the other doesn’t slow, and he leaps, sticking to their back once more. They look at him.
At the door, they turn away. They enter, and so does Atem, closing and locking the door.
The bathroom contains an open shower and curtain, a barred window under the ceiling, toilet, and two sinks and mirrors. One child, the other adult sized, decorated with rainbow cups and toothbrushes.
The other beelines for the shelves, picking up body wash. They throw their new clothes over a rack and step into the shower, ripping the curtain closed.
„Do you mind if I use the toilet?“ Atem asks while they throw their rags over the curtain.
„Whatever,“ they say, and the shower flicks on.
Atem listens to the water prattling until it changes like the other has stepped under. He hears scratching. A capped hiss. Scrubbing.
He uses the toilet. Washes and sits on the closed toilet lid. Water torrents splatter curtain and tiles. He should go back. He hugs his legs.
More scrubbing.
„Fuck, fuck, fuck—“
Atem stares at the wavering curtain. Lets his eyes trail stacked shelves. Towels, toiletries, medicine, and menstrual products.
A hitched breath. Scratching. A quiet sob.
Atem lowers his eyes to the tiles. He hurts.
Scrubbing. A wet thud on the wall.
„Fuck.“
The hallway is quiet. The house is too. So is the outside. The shower turns off and the bathroom turns quiet too.
The curtain is ripped open.
Atem flinches painfully, straight toward the dripping curves of the other. Dark spots of bruises and bites mar white skin hugged in even darker shadows. Wet hair clings to their neck. The metallic scent of fresh blood mixes with that of lemon soap.
„Why are you still here?“
Atem meets their eyes. At least he thinks he does, he can’t quite tell in the dark. „I thought it would be unfair to leave.“
They stare back. Atem holds them to it.
„Okay, I hate that but whatever.“
They strut past, water squelching under bare feet, and grab a dark towel from the shelves. They pat themselves dry with their back to Atem, and he returns his attention to the now wet tiles.
They don’t say anything else or throw him out.
Dry and dressed in their new clothes, similarly childish as Atem’s, they throw their old clothes into the trash and wash their hands with soap. Scrub them with a brush. Dry them with the rough towel.
Walk to the door. „You coming?“ they ask, and Atem sits straight. He confirms and hurries after.
They return to their room without another word. They don’t exchange any when Atem returns to his corner and pulls the blanket to his neck. None when the other fits their sheets and climbs in too. None when they cross their arms under their head, and none when Atem stares holes into the wall. None when their scent pours again and they curl up panting. None when Atem hugs his knees to his chest.
Atem is sure, neither of them sleep that night.
The second day.
Running could be heard from the hall. Children laugh and scream. Parents call after them. Their alarm blares well later.
There are many other Omega here.
Atem clicks the alarm off and turns back to staring at the wall. His head is heavy on his neck. He feels a headache coming on. Wants to close his eyes. He doesn’t.
The other groans. They turn onto their back and stare at the ceiling.
It’s time for breakfast, they’ve been told as much.
He hurts.
The other pries out of the sheets, swings out of bed, and their feet thud on the floor. They sit, head hung and hands folded over their nape. Their fingers tighten, claw into skin, and they let go.
Meet Atem’s eyes. Sink down his body. Flick back up.
„Good morning,“ he says.
They roll their eyes and stand. They will probably get breakfast. Atem should too. He turns back to the wall.
They stop at the foot of the bed. Atem looks at them.
They tap two fingers against the side of their neck, and motion a thumbs up. „Pretty sick by the way.“
Atem’s eyes widen just a minuscule but he soon avoids them back to the wall, a small smile pulling on his lips.
The other leaves and closes the door. Atem’s smile falls. They don’t come back.
Cars honking outside. Stale air inside.
Atem knows he should go out. His stomach growls. He keeps his eyes on the door.
The room turns from sparsely lit to bright. Children giggle and babble in the hallway. Nobody comes in.
Atem hugs his legs. He can’t breathe. His head hurts. His eyes fall on the window. The brick wall outside. The shade has wandered to darken it into a deep rusty color.
He flicks to the door. Still, nobody comes in.
He scoots toward the side of the bed. His heart beats so loudly in his chest. In his throat. His ears. He can feel it. He can’t hear anything anymore.
He reaches for the window. His arm shakes and his shoulder aches. He yanks back, burrowing his face in his knees. He can’t do it. He can’t. He’s out there.
Atem rushes back to his corner, dragging the blanket over himself. He wants to hide. He feels faint. He can’t think. He stares at the door, and yet still, nobody comes in.
The water stands abandoned even when his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. He’s parched and the bottle is too far away. He can’t go out. He hears them, there’s other Omega here. And they would know. Just like staff knew.
He’d be found.
There’s a knock on the door and Atem flinches up. He swallows and steels his nerves. Stands and opens the door with a kind smile. There’s not a single mark in his perfect mask when staff asks him if he ate that day.
„Yes,“ he says. „Thank you again for letting me stay here.“
They return his soft grin, and leave. Atem closes the door and returns to his corner.
The shade grows heavier over the walls. White paint becomes grey, and he hears the children again. They must be turning in. There’s a knock on the door and Atem freezes. The door handle moves and his blood pressure spikes.
The other Omega squeezes through the door and hastily closes it. Atem slumps into the wall. They returned.
They look at him from the door but he has no energy to meet them.
„I saw you,“ they say, and Atem gathers his strength yet. „On the news.“
Cold sweat sits in his neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face. Sits a little straighter.
„They don’t know where you are. They’re looking but they have no leads,“ the other tells him, eyes wandering to the untouched bottles atop their nightstand.
„Thank you,“ Atem says, gaze sinking to the floor.
„You can call me Yami.“
Atem jerks up. He hurts. „Yami? Like darkness in Japanese?“ He huffs a laugh and ‚Yami‘ shrugs.
„Then your pronouns?“ Atem’s stomach growls.
„Did you eat?“ Yami asks instead, and Atem shakes his head. „Did you go out at all?“ Again, Atem shakes his head, and Yami hums.
„He, him,“ he says, laying his hand on the door handle. He pauses. „’m going to shower.“
Atem’s eyes only widen for a second before he shoves off the bed and follows Yami closely.
The third day.
The alarm rings earlier that day, and Yami rushes out before Atem even hears the children. It’s only 10 minutes later when the door rattles and Yami sneaks back in. He brings food.
He hands Atem a sandwich and some fruit, and is out the door again before Atem finds his voice to thank him. Atem tries staring at the door dumbfounded but his raging headache and screaming stomach win.
He eats. Feels a little better after and vows to thank Yami properly once he returns. If he returns.
There’s another knock on the door.
The door handle doesn’t move, it’s not Yami. Atem hates it.
He stands and opens the door. He smiles. He hurts.
There’s a new Omega.
„How can I help you?“
They introduce themselves as a counselor. „I have a few questions regarding your coming here. We also managed to collect some more clothing for you two.“ They raise a paper bag, and Atem sees more mature colors inside than the pink they’ve been given.
„That’s very kind of you.“
„May I come in?“
Atem looks them in the eyes and compliantly steps back. They cross the room, setting the bag down on the nightstand.
„Puh, it’s warm in here. Let me open the window real quick.“
Atem closes the door. He wishes they didn’t. „Sure, that would be nice.“
They sit on the chair by the desk and Atem on the bed. The cool breeze from outside is freezing on his cracking skin.
„So, your name is Atem Sennen, is that correct?“ they ask, leaning back. Atem confirms. „What happened to you?“
„With all due respect, that is a private matter.“ Atem smiles, meeting their eyes and they soften.
„You can trust us. We only want to help you. But to do so, we need to know how we can.“
„Just letting me stay here will be enough.“
They hum in understanding.
„What about the other Omega? We’ve not been able to see or talk to them yet.“
Atem crosses his legs and arms. „I don’t know. They didn’t talk to me.“
„Shame. Not even a name? Pronouns? Anything at all?“
Atem shakes his head. „Nothing at all.“
They regard him with a long and lasting look but Atem simply smiles. He’s been smiling all his life. He sits and looks pretty.
They lose his eyes with a sigh. „And you don’t want to share anything with me either?“
„It’s not that I don’t want to, there’s simply nothing to tell. You already know who I am: Atem Sennen, 19 years old, son to Sennen Corporations.“ He swallows. „Happily bonded and married.“ Reassures his smile. His ringless fingers hide under his arms.
The cars are so loud. A screech and sirens. The air crackles on his skin.
„Hm,“ they nod thoughtfully. „You’re quite the celebrity.“
Atem laughs softly. His neck is ripping apart.
They slap their knees and stand. „Well, that’s enough for now then. Please, once you settled in some more, do consider if there is anything else you can tell me. And also.“ Their eyes sink down the bandage over Atem’s neck and shoulder. „If you’d like to see a doctor, we have discreet contacts. I reckon that might scar pretty badly if you don’t.“
Atem grins, his teeth showing. „I’ll think about it. Thank you so much.“ He stands as well, following them to the door. „I’ll be sure to talk to you once I can.“
They smile so gently at that and Atem bids them farewell in equal manner. He closes the door after them, and the moment it clicks, he scrambles for the window. He slams it shut, panting and shaking.
He can’t hear the cars as loudly anymore.
He returns to his corner.
„Would you…“
Yami turns to Atem’s quiet question, mid taking his shirt off.
„Mind waiting so I can take a shower too?“
Yami lowers his shirt over breasts and stomach again. He meets Atem’s eyes, they hold onto each other for a quiet eternity. He closes the toilet lid and sits on it. „Go ahead.“
Atem smiles and thanks him as he enters the room. The shower curtain hangs open and he steps inside. He can see the door. He grabs the curtain, tugs on it. The door disappears and Atem opens the curtain again.
Yami is watching him.
Atem’s hand tightens around the curtain.
Yami looks at the door. Back to the curtain. „We can shower together.“
Relief seeps into Atem’s shoulders. „Please.“
They undress together and throw their clothing in the washing machine before entering the shower and turning the water on.
The water prattles innocently. The washing machine rattles. The drain gurgles.
Atem is brushing his wet hair back when Yami’s leather scent catches his attention. He hasn’t smelt it before.
But now he does.
Atem seeks Yami out. He has stopped moving. Is staring at his feet turned inwards. His chest is rising and falling more deliberately than before. He clutches his thighs.
His heat.
Yami’s breathing quickens, a warm gleam settling on his cheeks. Atem reaches out without thinking.
His finger tip hooks under Yami’s digging nails and Yami flinches up. Even in the faint light and between running water, Atem can see the slick drip between his legs.
He meets his eyes. Yami flicks between his hand and face. And Atem discovers a new emotion in him.
Yami’s skin is flushed. His breathing flat. His scent overwhelming. His nails dig deeper. Skin pricks and blood gathers.
Fear.
Atem holds onto Yami’s eyes as he traces his hand further into Yami’s. Takes his other too. Yami falls to his knees and Atem sinks with him.
Yami hunches over. Atem holds his hands.
Yami pants. Presses his legs together. Whimpers. Atem holds his hands.
The water thunders. The washing machine clanks. Slick drips onto the tiles.
Yami’s hands burn. His body radiates heat. Sweat pearls on his back quicker than it can rinse. He squirms. Rubs his thighs together. Breaths a moan.
Tenses.
Atem holds his hands.
Yami hiccups.
The shower rains endlessly on Atem’s back, streams down his sides and melts into the tiles.
The microwave whirs quietly. The night is silent.
Atem’s eyes are closed. He has his arms crossed as he leans on the kitchen counter. He can feel Yami stand in his side. Smells the scent of freshly washed clothes over leather.
„Hey Atem.“ Atem opens his eyes. Yami is staring into the pitch black living room ahead. „Do you like books?“
„I do enjoy reading.“
The microwave only beeps once before Yami clicks it open.
„Why?“
Yami takes out a steaming plate. „They have a bookshelf here. I saw it before.“
Atem accepts the plate with quiet thanks and takes a fork from the counter.
„I can take you there.“
The forth day.
When Yami returns after nightfall, it is with a bulky plastic bag in hand. Atem lowers his book into his lap, watching how Yami sets it down on the bed.
Yami pulls out a big pink stuffed bunny and holds it out to him.
Atem stares at it. Stares up at Yami.
„For you,“ Yami says.
Atem eyes the bunny again. „Where did you get it?“
Yami shrugs. „Does it matter?“
Atem reaches out. Runs his hand over the bunny’s soft cheeks. Its ears flop. Atem looks up again. „Did anyone suffer for this?“
Yami shakes his head.
„Then I guess it doesn’t.“ Atem takes the bunny into both hands, staring at its black button eyes and nose. He hugs it and smiles at Yami. „Thank you.“
Yami turns away. „It’s nothing.“
He hides the bag and they head to the bathroom. Yami’s heat doesn’t return. It must be over.
The fifth day.
Yami knows something is up when he knocks but hears no shuffling inside. Atem should be in their room, where else could he be? He hasn’t left it without him.
Yami opens the door and finds the beds empty. And the desk empty. The room is empty. Atem is gone.
Yami closes the door and takes slow strides inside. He kicks his new shoes off. The bunny is gone too.
Goosebumps grow in Yami’s neck. He sniffs the air for Atem’s rose scent. It lingers in the air, mixed with his own as it should be but… Yami breathes in again. It’s heavier.
Yami looks over the bed again. Something’s off. He yanks the blanket back.
The sheets are gone.
Yami’s nails dig into his palm. Then he hears it. It’s barely a sound at all. But he hears it. A gasp. He turns on his heel and rips open the closet.
There he is.
Atem looks up bubbly tears at him, sat wrapped in bloody sheets and shaking like crazy. He doesn’t fit into the closet, nobody should, but he makes it work, squeezed in with his bunny against his chest.
His bandages hang ripped off his shoulder, fresh blood gushing from his wound. A heady scent of roses mixes with metal and Yami’s heart cracks.
Atem hiccups. Draws his knees somehow closer still and curls into an even smaller ball. One hand covers his mouth and the other digs into pink fur.
„No—“ He hides dark cheeks in his bunny. „Please…“
Yami falls to his knees. „Hey, it’s okay. What’s up, what happened?“ He reaches out a hand but Atem flees further into the closet.
„No! Don’t touch me!“
Yami’s hand falls.
„I don’t want to. Please—“
„Hey,“ Yami whispers, moving back and closing the door to a crack. „It’s just me. Yami. I won’t touch you, I promise.“
Sobbing. Yami’s heart breaks.
„Atem, it’s just me. Just me. You’re save, there’s nobody else here. Just me. Yami.“
Atem whimpers. His scent is heavy with heat and laced with fear. It crawls under Yami’s skin and his hand clamps around the door. „You know me! Come on, Atem, please. It’s Yami. Your roommate.“
He hears shuffling in the dark. More sputtering hiccups.
„You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not them. I’m Yami. They’re not here, Atem. It’s just you and me. Nobody else.“
Atem’s voice cracks and Yami’s does too.
„I got you that bunny, remember?“
A gasp. A choked cry for his name.
„Yeah, that’s right, that’s me,“ Yami babbles. He can’t let the door go. „Come back to me. You’re safe with me.“
The door is nudged, and Yami opens it to Atem crying fat tears at him.
„Yami, I’m afraid,“ Atem sobs. „He’ll smell and he’ll find me. He will!“
„No,“ Yami shakes his head, leans closer. Atem jerks away, and Yami freezes before he sits back. „Nobody will find you. You’re safe here. Here with me. He can’t find you here.“
The biting scent of blood almost overpowers the rose in the air. Atem chokes on tears. Coughs. Pulls his bunny closer.
Yami sits with him, reassuring him until his tears stop.
Yami picks up a soft wash cloth and bandages from the shelf. He feels Atem’s eyes on him, smells him, hears him sip on his water. A wrapper of heat suppressants lays empty beside the crane. He wets the cloth and returns to Atem’s side, sat on the closed toilet lid.
„Grit your teeth for me, this’ll hurt,“ Yami says and Atem nods. Yami can see the tension in his jaw and it almost breaks the fresh crust on his wound.
Yami brings the cloth to Atem’s bare shoulder. „I’ll make it quick.“
Atem hisses and coughs. Grips his plastic cup tight. Nails dirty with dried blood.
Yami cleans his wound, shoulder and chest. Atem’s body is steaming, hot to the touch. It burns Yami’s fingers even through the cloth but it doesn’t deter him.
Atem was kind to him during his heat, he can do the same.
The cloth soaks in brown blood and slowly, the ugly gash and its scratched edges appear underneath. Yami throws the wash cloth into the hamper.
Atem breathes relief.
„I’ll put the bandage on now,“ Yami says, picking it up again. „But fair warning, I don’t know how to do this at all.“
Atem looks up at him with a pained wince. Yami bows down and meets Atem at eye level. Atem stares at him for a moment before he laughs softly.
„That’s alright. It doesn’t need to be perfect,“ he says, sweet joy in his words and Yami much prefers it over his tears.
He avoids his eyes. „It’ll scar.“
Atem’s sink to the tiles. „That would be nice.“
Yami stares at him. Searches the end of the roll and sets it down against Atem’s soft breast.
„Hold.“ Atem does, smiles. He’s calm now, despite his heat.
Yami wraps his shoulder sloppily. He doesn’t know how to do it better but he tries at least. He’s only ever seen this in movies. He never had fancy bandages to wrap himself in.
He finishes up and tapes the bandage down. „There.“
Atem looks at his shoulder. There’s not as much pain in his face. His rose scent is heavy. His eye lids are too.
„It’s perfect,“ he mumbles, and Yami can’t help his blush.
He nods quietly and returns everything to where he found it. When he’s done, Atem is leaning back against the toilet with his eyes closed. Yami takes him back to their room and Atem quickly feels asleep. It’s what the suppressants do.
Yami doesn’t have the heart to leave Atem’s side, and so he sits by his bedside and stares at the wall. He can’t sleep but Atem’s quiet breaths are comforting all the same.
He’s glad Atem finally sleeps.
Atem’s heat lasts and Yami stays by his side.
Whoever Atem fears, Yami assures him, he can’t get to him. Even if it means that the only time Yami sees the sun is when it pokes at the brick wall outside.
At night, they head out for food, more suppressants, and bathroom runs, but the day, they simply spend in quiet.
Atem pants and whines. He’s cramping, sweaty and unbelievably hot. Yami hardly remembers what anything but rose smells like.
He grabs the blanket from his bed and wraps it around his shoulder as he sits against Atem’s headrest. Atem nuzzles into his hip and though it’s strange, Yami doesn’t mind.
He never had someone to share a nest with. He hasn’t ever had a nest. He wants Atem to have one.
Atem can’t quite believe hazy eyes when they fall on Yami sat in his bed. They trail upward, and Yami notices. Looks down at him, and Atem smiles.
He’s hot, he feels horrible. His body aches, and his insides flame. He hurts.
But smiling at Yami comes easy.
He’s never felt this safe during his heat. It’s easy to drift back to sleep.
Atem doesn’t remember a time when his heat ever felt so comfortable. Sharing a nest with another Omega… He envies those that have pack and family to rely on. For him, it’s a first.
All he knows is fear and distress. The expectation to perform despite craving death. The hush hush he had to hide his wish to take suppressants behind. The loneliness of a locked room.
The knowledge that one day he would be claimed. The terror when he was. Then, the fear of his Alpha.
But now, Yami.
Atem is delirious when he wakes. He can’t think. He’s burning and mushy.
He reaches out a hand toward Yami’s arm by his side and at first touch, Yami jumps. Atem holds onto him, gazing misty eyes at a double face, and he senses Yami relax. He hugs Yami’s arm to his chest where he holds his bunny too, and Yami sinks over him.
Between a foggy mind and tired body, it’s kind.
The eight day.
Atem asks for a shower, Yami gladly accepts and they shove dirty clothes, sheets and bunny into the washing machine before they duck under the water.
Atem’s heat should be over. It’s the third night, it should be the last.
He’s calm as the water cascades down his skin. Yami is beside him, scrubbing at already red arms. As they shift and wash, their bodies connect in faint touches. Atem finds, he doesn’t mind.
He’s never been this close to another person before without minding. Without fear.
His skin pricks and Atem’s hands slow over his breasts. His body heats rapidly. The suppressants. They must be wearing off. He didn’t take more because he thought his heat would be over.
Atem’s heart races.
Yami steps in front of him.
Atem grabs his hand.
Yami meets his eyes, quiet, guarded. Atem hugs Yami’s hand to his stomach. Yami splays his fingers and Atem gasps.
He follows Yami’s eyes sinking to his fingers. He’s so hot.
Atem turns his hand upside down on Yami’s, index and middle finger spreading around a thin wrist. Gently, he hugs soft skin and traces Yami down his stomach.
His abdomen. Into prickly just regrowing pubic hair.
His chest heaves. His breath is hot and dry.
He meets Yami’s eyes searching for his. „Please.“ Barely a noise above splattering water.
Atem’s legs are weak, his thighs slip against each other.
Yami’s hand twists at the wrist and he dives into Atem’s folds.
Atem gasps, and he slaps his hands over his mouth. He loses his balance, falls back. Yami turns him into the wall.
Tiles scrub his back, his neck, pain and heat. Pleasure?
Yami rubs him with two fingers, and Atem’s knees turn into each other. He quivers, trembles. He feels so good.
He’s never felt so good.
Tears gather in Atem’s eyes and he cries senseless moans into his palms. He weighs on shoulders rubbing at the tiles.
Yami’s hand trapped between his thighs. Hot breath.
„Yami—“
Water thrumming on curling feet.
„—mi!“
Voice caught in his throat.
„Ya— Ahh!“
Atem’s hips buck. His thighs tense and his hands fist his lips. Heat pours out of him, washes away with the slick dripping down his legs and splotching onto the tiles.
Yami’s fingers still against the twists of his hips. Then they turn gentle circles, taking Atem back in sweet shivers. Atem breathes heavy, hands falling out of his mouth and sinking to his collar as Yami’s fingers slide over prickly hair and rub off on it.
He feels nails and knuckles, finger pads, and each digit on its own.
Yami exhales softly. Looks up at him. Atem meets him there.
Smiles. And Yami’s eyes seem to smile too, even when his lips never do.
Atem eases back against the tiles, knees still weak, and grasps Yami’s hand with one. Intertwines their fingers.
„Feel better?“ Yami asks and Atem nods.
„Better than I ever have.“
Yami’s lashes lower as he looks down Atem’s neck, his breasts, his waist to their joined hands. His grip tightens.
He tugs on Atem’s hand. Atem lets himself be taken up, standing on wobbly legs. They sink back into the shower. Water prattles on his skin, and Yami’s hand is so gentle in his.
They finish their shower slowly, and Atem feels refreshed. He doesn’t feel the effects of his heat anymore. He’s warm, fuzzy, relieved. Tired.
As they towel themselves, the washing machine stops its cluttering and they gather everything into the dryer. They sit beside it, on towels with their hands held and quietly wait for it to finish before they return to their room and make the bed.
Yami places Atem’s bunny on the pillow and holds out a hand to help Atem climb in. Atem’s heart flutters and he returns to his corner.
„Will you,“ he starts but Yami is already following. Atem’s words turn to quiet laugh.
Yami meets his eyes. Then lays on his back, crossing his arms under his head. Atem cuddles into him, the bunny between them. Yami closes his eyes, and so does Atem, and for once, they both sleep the night.
The ninth day.
A hand on his stomach, Atem groans softly. The painkillers aren’t working yet. He takes a fresh pad from the shelf and opens the pack. Yami is watching him from the opposite wall, wet hair dripping into a towel around his neck.
He hands Atem his clothes. Stares at the pad in his hand. Atem takes the clothes with thanks. He sits down to fix them.
Yami keeps staring.
The pad sounds deafening in the quiet bathroom.
„Hey, Atem,“ Yami whispers and yet his voice is somehow much louder.
Atem hums question.
„My period hasn’t come yet.“
Atem freezes. He looks up. There it is again.
Yami clutches his towel. His knuckles turn white in the dark.
Fear.
„It should be here.“ Yami’s eyes fall to the floor. „My heat is over.“
Atem quickly fixes himself.
„What if—“ Yami’s voice cracks.
Atem takes his hands. „Maybe it’s just late. It doesn’t have to mean anything.“
Yami meets his eyes. Looks between them and their joint hands. He’s shaking.
„You could take a test?“ Atem searches the shelves. He finds a pregnancy test and holds it out to Yami.
Yami grabs it in both hands. His entire posture is tense. Atem rubs his arm. Yami’s brows are curled up.
Fear.
„I’ve never used one before.“
„Never?“
Yami shakes his head and unwraps the box, and takes out the test. Turns it left and right in his hand.
„Have you?“
He stares into Atem’s soul. Atem lowers his eyes. No point in lying. „I… have used different ones before.“
It would come back negative. He’d be relieved. His Alpha wasn’t. He’d force another heat, rinse and repeat.
He feels Yami’s eyes on him. Then they disappear. „What do I need to do?“
Atem explains and Yami follows instructions. They wait for the strips to appear and show them the result. Atem sits by Yami’s side, rubbing his bare thigh.
A small cross appears on the display and Atem sucks in a harsh breath. Yami jerks to him. „What?“
„No, nothing! Uh, the box, box—“ Atem scrambles for the packaging and digs out the instructions.
„What does it mean?“ Yami’s voice pitches high. Atem’s heart rate spikes.
Both their hands are trembling.
Atem stares at the small print explaining cross and line. He grips the paper tighter. Reads it again.
„What? What is it?“ Yami rips the paper out of his hand. „No—“ Paper and test fall from Yami’s hands. Atem drags him into a hug.
„It’s okay. It is. Maybe it’s a false positive. We can try another one.“ Any excuse is a good one.
Yami shakes him off. He’s laughing maniacally. „Yeah! Yes, right! That has to be it!“
Horror.
Atem watches Yami grab another test. And another. And another. And another. Then, he stops him.
„I’m so sorry,“ he says, and the tears fall from Yami’s eyes.
Atem holds him. For an eternity, he simply listens to Yami’s sobs and holds him. Surrounded by crosses, they kneel on the wet tiles. The night is quiet. Yami’s cries are not.
The tenth day.
The morning, Yami leaves again. Atem wonders if he will return and it pains him that he might not. He hugs his bunny. It smells like leather.
Yami comes back after lights out. He pulls the plastic bag out from under his bed.
„I’m leaving.“
Atem chokes up.
„I’ll take the next train. Tomorrow I’m gone.“ Yami shakes the bag out and reaches into his pants. He takes out a bundle of cash, turning to Atem. „I have enough. For both of us.“
Atem stares at him wide eyed. His mouth is dry. He hugs his bunny tighter.
„Will you come with me?“ Yami asks, and Atem can only nod.
That night is the last that the refuge ever hears of these two young Omega.
They fill Yami’s bag with supplies: some food, medicine and menstrual products. The clothes they’ve been given. Atem finds a mask between all the mess and covers his face.
It’s well into the first hours of the day when they leave without a note or word. Yami knows the way and they run through freezing black streets to the train station. When they reach the imposing halls, Yami beelines for a ticket booth and buys two for the next intercity.
It doesn’t matter where it goes.
They have to rush to catch it, the announcement of it arriving hot on their heels. But they make it. They jump into the door at the same time that the horn blares and it closes behind them. They find an empty seat and Yami falls into it.
Atem sits beside him on the window side.
The city slowly turns to shadowy trees and wafting fields of reeds. The news cycle is playing silently on a screen a few rows ahead.
‚His mate and husband addressed a heartfelt appeal toward any possible sightings but so far the police reports no further leads about Atem Sennen’s devastating disappearance. The world remains in shock.
‚Ten days ago, a maid to the Sennen family found what can only be described as the scene of a horror movie: a knife swimming in a sea of blood with no trace of the young Omega. They called police, and after a thorough investigation, forensics confirmed the blood as indeed belonging to the Sennen son.
‚A police statement suggests a suicide attempt as no other DNA has been found on the weapon. The young Omega might’ve fled the scene to spare his mate and family the sight, they say, though wish to remind us that no body has been found yet.
‚Omega activists call for an investigation into Atem Sennen’s mate and husband, pointing to statistics detailing a worrying trend of marital abuse within Alpha Omega—‘
Atem averts his eyes. He leans on Yami’s shoulder, hugging his plushy close. Yami turns to him, and for the first time, Atem sees him smile. It’s a faint quirk of his lip but it’s clear in his eyes, and Atem soaks in it.
He grins back, a gentle comfort in his heart.
Yami lays his head on his, and Atem closes his eyes.
For once, he doesn’t hurt.