Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Oikawa flopped against his couch, ignoring the fact that all of the omega etiquette books insisted that flopping was unrefined and would lead to bad posture, which according to the book he was currently being forced to read, would decrease his likelihood of finding a good mate. Granted, that was the book’s conclusion to everything it deemed improper. If you do x, then y will happen and you’ll never find a good mate. If this is the case, he thought, then I bet there isn’t a single omega who’s found a good mate. Maybe that explained why his parents, two alpha powerhouses, had married each other instead of finding omegas. All omegas were probably a disappointment to them—their son especially.

While Oikawa hadn’t presented as an omega yet, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he would. He was small for his age, his petite frame and features better suited to a girl than a boy. His face was soft, pale, and still showed traces of baby fat that he had never managed to shed. And if his appearance wasn’t enough of an indicator, his personality was the last nail in the proverbial coffin. He was shy, stuttering whenever he spoke, bad at sports, had almost no self-esteem, and was practically incapable of doing anything that hadn’t been set before him. He lacked initiative, according to his mother, a central feature of an alpha’s personality. Everything about him screamed omega.

If his parents had been capable of expressing any sort of emotion, he was sure that they would be devastated that their only son wasn’t an alpha, or at very least a beta. Instead, Mr. and Mrs. Oikawa were just extremely irritated and inconvenienced that Oikawa had turned out to be an omega. He knew that they had hinged on him being an alpha, and he had a feeling that having one child had been enough of an inconvenience and had required that they spend far too much time around each other, which was probably why they had never bothered to have a second one. Instead they had resigned themselves to the fact that they would have to marry him off to an equally rich and successful family. He was a small asset in the grand scheme of things, but an asset nonetheless, and they were going to capitalize on that.

This was exactly why Oikawa was surrounded by nearly ten books, all of which outlined exactly what he had to do to be a good omega, though he frequently felt as though their sole purpose was to tell him just how terrible he was at being an omega. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had been put on a strict diet, which meant no sweets, had been made to wear braces and contacts (though he wore the contacts as infrequently as possible since they hurt his eyes), and had been given a beauty regimen that he had to follow twice a day. On top of all of this, he was learning to play the piano, serve tea, and make polite small talk. He was bad at all of it and his life was a living hell because of it.

Sliding off the couch and onto the floor, Oikawa considered calling a maid and asking her to bring him a snack. He racked his brain, trying to remember name of the latest maid. There had been so many that they had all started to blur together. They rarely stayed long, most of them unwilling or unable to meet Mrs. Oikawa’s high expectations.

He gave up after running through a few names. The snack wouldn’t be worth the effort, anyway. It would probably be something leafy, green, and gross. He had almost reached a point that he would rather starve than eat that.

Yawning, he tried to think of what he should do next. Reading was out of the question, since he wasn’t sure that his brain could handle seeing another list of things that he was doing wrong. Plus his eyes hurt and, in spite of having glasses, he was having trouble seeing the words. He went through the rest of his options, not considering what he wanted to do, but considering which option wasn’t as bad as all the others.

Before he could decide on one of the two options that he’d narrowed it down to, he heard a faint rustling outside of the window and noticed a few bushes shaking. Happy for an excuse to procrastinate, Oikawa tip toed over the window and peered outside.

At first he didn’t see anything, making him wonder if it had just been the wind. However, just before he was about to walk away, a large shadow scurried through the bushes, darting past Oikawa before he could even register what it was. He pressed his face against the glass, focusing his eyes until he finally saw the dark form laying flat against the dirt under the bushes. Eyes wide, Oikawa stared at the thing. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought that a spiky black plant had come to life and was just lying in wait to do god knows what.

Actually, he really didn’t know better, which was why he let out an unholy shriek as the thing moved, dragging its body across the ground like an overgrown inchworm.

The thing jumped up as soon as it heard Oikawa, crashing into the bushes and quickly becoming one with the tangled mass of leaves and twigs. Oikawa, though wanting to run, found himself frozen with fear and incapable of moving away from the window as he observed the scene below. Even with the glass barrier between them, Oikawa could hear muffled angry noises coming from the other side. Less than a split second later, a head popped up, and Oikawa found himself looking at the furious, mud-streaked face of a dark-haired boy.

If Oikawa was being honest with himself—and he was, of course, always honest with himself—he’d say that the boy was at least twice as scary as the monster that he had imagined. The boy’s tanned skin was tinted a red that Oikawa was sure wasn’t a sunburn, and he was yelling something that Oikawa couldn’t quite understand. Eyes round with fear, he stared back at the boy, unsure if passing out would be a prudent response to the situation. According to his books, it probably would be.

The boy suddenly stopped yelling, seeming to realize that Oikawa couldn’t hear a word that he was saying. He started pointing at the window, gesturing that Oikawa should open it up. A streak of panic rushed through his body as he considered, not what would happen if he did open the window, but what the boy would do if he didn’t open the window. His expression was the stuff of nightmares, and even though Oikawa was absolutely terrified, he forced himself to obey, slowly unlatching the window and pushing it open. A rush of hot air hit his face at the same time that the dark-haired boy started yelling.

“You made me lose it!” the boy growled, and Oikawa took a quick step back. “I’ve been hunting it for at least an hour, and you made me lose it.” Oikawa swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know what the boy had been hunting, but a flurry of images rushed through his head, people being the most prominent.

It wasn’t until the boy placed his muddy hands on the windowsill that Oikawa realized what a truly horrible mistake he had made. There was no screen on the window, and before Oikawa could even consider closing the window, the boy had vaulted himself into the room, leaving streaks of mud on what had formerly been pristine white paint. He tucked his body into an ungraceful roll and skidded across the carpet. Oikawa winced slightly as he imagined the rug burns he must have given himself. But the boy seemed unfazed, jumping to his feet and brushing his skin off, almost as though he were trying to wipe the clean of the carpet off of his skin.

“Who’re you?” the boy demanded, crossing his arms across his chest as he gave Oikawa a hard look.

Oikawa’s hysteria finally got the best of him. “You’re in my house,” he shrieked. “Why are you in my house?” He made a move to run, but the boy was quicker. He pulled Oikawa into a headlock and clapped a grubby hand over Oikawa’s mouth.

“Be quiet,” he hissed, tightening his grip as Oikawa started to squirm, just as eager to get away from the dirt as he was the strange child. Desperation washing over him, he closed his eyes and forced himself to bite the hand covering his mouth. The boy let out a yell, shoving Oikawa to the ground. Free at last, Oikawa started to scream for help.

Before the boy could make a grab at Oikawa, footsteps thudded through the hallway and the door was flung open. A stout woman stood in the doorway, gasping for breath as she looked at the scene with panicked eyes. When her eyes landed on the boy, her expression quickly morphed from fear into anger.

“Hajime,” she barked. “What on earth are you doing in here?”

The boy, who was apparently called Hajime, looked at her with wide eyes before he mumbled an excuse and scowled at the floor. The woman started to march towards Hajime, but then paused, her eyes landing on Oikawa, who, overwhelmed by the situation, was ready to burst into tears. She knelt down next to him and pulled him into a hug.

“You poor child. Did he hurt you?”

Oikawa sniffled as he looked down at the small scrapes on his hands and elbows. As soon as he did, he also noticed the muddy handprints that were stamped all over his arms. That sent him over the edge, and he let out a wail.

“He got dirt on me,” Oikawa cried. “He got dirt all over me, and my clothes, and my hair, and—” It was about that time that he remembered the dirty hand that had been held against his mouth—the one that he had bitten down on. He frantically clawed at his mouth, trying to scrub away the dirt that he was sure coated his lips and tongue, not realizing that he had dirt all over his hands, as well.

At a loss as to what he should do, Oikawa froze in place, shaking slightly and letting out small whimpering noises as he tried to process what had just happened. Strong arms lifted him up as the woman cradled him against her chest. He inhaled the clean, comforting scent of her clothes, which lacked the musk of an alpha or omega. A beta, he thought to himself. He liked betas.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, dear,” she said, standing slowly as Oikawa nestled against her body. She took two steps before stopping abruptly, her head snapping towards the door. Oikawa peered out of her arms just in time to see Hajime starting to slink out of the room.

“Hajime, if you take one more step out of this room, I’ll take away your net and you’ll spend the rest of the summer scrubbing floors and cleaning toilet bowls,” she said, her voice threatening and not unlike the tone that Hajime had directed towards Oikawa only a few moments earlier. The boy didn’t answer, but he also didn’t move another inch. The woman, satisfied that she had sufficiently cowed Hajime, marched out of the room, carrying Oikawa into the nearest bathroom.

She gently placed Oikawa on the floor before immediately starting a bath. Unsure as to what he should do, Oikawa picked at the silky threads of the bathmat, trying hard not to think about all he germs that now coated his skin. He glanced down at his shirt, which was practically painted in mud, and started to let out choked sobs. 

The woman turned toward him and gently placed a hand against his cheek. “We’ll get you cleaned up. And I’ll make sure your clothes are good as new, OK?” He nodded mutely. 

As she placed him in the warm water and started to rub the mud off of his skin, he stared at her features, realizing just how much she looked like Hajime. Her hair, though not as spiky, was short and an inky black, contrasting sharply with her brown skin. There was a small, most likely permanent, furrow between her eyes, but her eyes were soft and she smiled slightly as she worked.

“Who are you?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

“I’m Reiko Iwaizumi,” she said. “I’m your new housekeeper.” Oh, he thought. That explained why he didn’t recognize her. Hired hands came in and left the Oikawa house on a regular basis. Some were fired, but most couldn’t handle Oikawa’s mother’s high demands and meticulous attention to details. On more than a few occasions, Oikawa had envied their ability to leave. He wished he could go with them.

“I’m sorry about Hajime,” she continued. “Once he sets his sights on something, whether it’s a beetle, or a spider, or some other bug, he goes after it until he catches it.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m not looking forward to the day he presents as an alpha. He’s aggressive enough as it is.”

Oikawa frowned. “He was hunting for bugs?” he said loudly. “That’s gross!”

“It is not!” a voice yelled back, and Mrs. Iwaizumi pursed her lips.

“Hajime,” she called back, “mind your manners.” There was no response, and she nodded her head. Oikawa let out a small breath. The boy, who he guessed was Mrs. Iwaizumi’s son, seemed to have two settings: angry and stoic. He remembered the dark glare the other boy had given him. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with either.

Finally satisfied that she had scrubbed all the dirt off, Mrs. Iwaizumi lifted Oikawa out of the bath, wrapping him in a fluffy towel.

“I’m going to get you some clean clothes, alright?” Oikawa nodded, inspecting his pale skin for any traces of mud. A few moments later, Hajime’s mother brought him a new set of clothes, gathering the dirty shirt and pants in her arms as Oikawa got dressed.

“Is there anything else that I can get you?” she asked kindly, and Oikawa shook his head. She gave him a once over before nodding her head, satisfied with what she saw. He followed close behind as she walked out of the room, doing his best to hide behind her as she walked into the room where Hajime was waiting.

He was standing in the same place that she had left him, arms crossed and jaw jutted out as he glowered at the wall. His mother stared at him before letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to have to hose you off again.”

That quickly caught Hajime’s attention, and he jerked his head toward her. “Can’t I just keep playing,” he groaned. “I’m gonna get dirty again anyways.”

“Absolutely not. I am going to hose you off, and then you are going to sit outside and think about what you’ve done.” She picked him up and carried him toward the kitchen, grumbling about the mess he had made. Oikawa followed, his eyes trained on Hajime’s stiff form, reminded of a YouTube video he’d seen of a cat trying to avoid getting a bath. He smiled slightly at the resemblance.

He stared out the screened kitchen door as Mrs. Iwaizumi set her son in the grass before hunting down the garden hose. Hajime flopped on the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, seeming to have accepted his fate and given up on life altogether. He hung his head as his mother dragged him up and began to hose the mud off of him. When she finished, she gestured at a small stone bench a few meters away. Hajime, clothes dripping and hair slightly less spiky than before, slouched towards it and then curled up on the cool stone.

Mrs. Iwaizumi gave him a bright smile as she walked back into the house. “If there’s anything I can do for you, Tooru, please let me know. I’m going to tidy up a few things, but all you have to do is call for me, and I’ll be right there.” Oikawa returned her smile with a small smile of his own.

“OK.”

Oikawa waited for a few moments until he could no longer hear her footsteps, then crept towards, staring at Hajime, who looked like a drowned rat and seemed significantly less scary because of it. He eased the door open, flinching as it creaked in protest. Hajime looked up, then quickly glared as Oikawa slowly approached him.

“Go away,” he said gruffly, refusing to look at Oikawa. He jaw clenched as a small sniffle escaped him. Upon closer inspection, Oikawa realized that the boy’s eyes were rimmed with red and puffy with unshed tears. He started to feel a little ashamed for enjoying Hajime’s impromptu bath.

“I’m sorry you had to get hosed,” he said, in an attempt to make peace with the other boy.

“You should be,” Hajime said thickly. “This is all your fault.”

“Is not! You jumped through my window and got me all dirty.”

“Yeah, but you made me lose my beetle,” Hajime accused. “And you started squealing. My mom wouldn’t’ve come if you hadn’t made so much noise.”

Oikawa let out an offended noise. “I didn’t squeal he said.” And then, with an afterthought, said, “And I’m not the one who’s crying right now.”

“’m not crying,” Hajime said through gritted teeth. “Alphas don’t cry.”

“You’re not an alpha. Your mom says that you haven’t presented yet,” Oikawa huffed, displeased by the other boy’s bravado.

“Well I’m not gonna be a stupid omega, at least.” Hajime inclined his chin, daring Oikawa to challenge him. Oikawa tried to hold his gaze, but averted his eyes after a few seconds.

“Omegas aren’t stupid,” he said softly. No matter how many times people talked badly about omegas, it still hurt like a fresh wound. He wondered if he would ever stop caring. “My mom says I’m going to be an omega,” he added, so quietly that he was sure Hajime wouldn’t be able to hear him. He could feel the other boys gaze on him, and he hugged himself, as if he could protect himself against Hajime’s stare.

He started to back away when Hajime said, “No, you’re right. There’s nothin’ wrong with omegas.” He paused. “I still don’t like you, though,” he said with conviction 

Oikawa looked up at him again, surprised by Hajime’s and unsure if he should be thrilled that Hajime didn’t seem to look down on omegas or offended by his bluntness. “Why not? I didn’t mean to make you lose your beetle. I didn’t even know you were in my bushes.”

He shook his head. “Because you’re a sissy.”

“Am not!” Oikawa gasped, any spark of hope that he’d felt extinguished.

“Are too!” Hajime snapped back. “You cried when you got dirt on you.”

“Well dirt is gross,” he said, for lack of a better argument. “And just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m a sissy.”

Oikawa stared defiantly at the ground, wishing that he had never gone anywhere near Hajime. It was bad enough that his mother said terrible things about omegas, that his father gave him disappointing looks when he bothered to come home, and that the other children at school made fun of him for being so small and weak. It wasn’t his fault that he was born this way. He didn’t ask to be this way at all. And he certainly didn’t want to be like this.

As he started to turn away, a slippery hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. Surprised, Oikawa stared at Hajime with wide eyes. He tried to shrink away, the tight grip reminding him of the bullies at school who teased him about his glasses and braces, and hit him in places nobody could see. But instead of hitting him, the dark-haired boy gently pulled him closer.

“Omegas aren’t sissies, but you are.” He folded his arms, eyes thoughtful. “I can teach you how to be a strong omega,” he said, slowly and uncertainly, as though he were questioning his words as he said them. He cocked his head to the side. “And I’ll even be your friend if you tell my mom you want to catch bugs with me today.”

A … friend? Oikawa thought. He’d never had any friends, and while he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to be friends with someone as brutish as Hajime, he desperately wanted some sort of companionship. And if Hajime could teach him how to be strong, then maybe life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

He nodded resolutely. “Deal.”

Satisfied, Hajime spat into his own hand before offering it to Oikawa. Oikawa stared at it with some trepidation and a lot of disgust. “You gotta shake or it isn’t a deal,” Hajime asserted.

“Can’t we pinky promise instead.” Hajime’s eyes widened as though he’d never even heard of the idea before.

“Real men don’t pinky promise,” he bellowed. “Now shake.”

Swallowing hard and squinting his eyes shut, Oikawa grasped the Hajime’s calloused hand, hoping that his own hand wouldn’t be crushed in Hajime’s hand as he shook hard. When he let go, Oikawa opened his eyes.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?” he asked hopefully. Hajime nodded.

“It means we’re friends.”

“Thank you, Hajime,” Oikawa said excitedly. “I promise you won’t regret it.” Hajime rolled his eyes in response.

“Oi, don’t call me that. I’m regretting it already.”

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” Oikawa asked, confused.

“Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa tested it slowly, tripping over the name as he tried in vain to pronounce it.

“Iwaizumi.” Hajime enunciated, placing an emphasis on each syllable. “You’re saying it all wrong.”

Oikawa mouthed it to himself a few times, before pausing a moment. His face lit up, and Iwaizumi stared at him suspiciously. “Iwa-chan,” he said brightly.

“What,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, his voice flat.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa repeated. “That’s what I’m going to call you now.”

“I heard you the first time,” Iwaizumi said. “And that’s even worse. You can’t call me that.”

“But I can’t pronounce your name,” Oikawa wailed loudly. “How can we be friends if I can’t pronounce your name?” Iwaizumi glanced at the kitchen door, as though he expected his mother to burst out at any moment and attack him with the hose again.

“Alright, alright,” he said quickly. “Sheesh, you’re too loud. Be quiet already. You can call me that until you learn to actually say my name, OK? But after that, no more nicknames. Got it?”

“OK Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sang. Iwaizumi rubbed his hand across his face and sighed wearily, his practically non-existent patience already pushed well beyond its limit. He should’ve stayed home today. It was too late for that, though, so Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa towards the door. He might as well get something in return for his suffering.

“Now you’ve gotta tell my mom that you wanna hunt bugs.”

“Do we actually have to hunt bugs?” Oikawa asked nervously. “Can’t we do something else? 

“Nuh-uh,” Iwaizumi replied. A deal’s a deal. He cocked an eyebrow. “You aren’t gonna go back on a deal, are you?”

“Of course not.” Oikawa met his gaze and nodded firmly, mimicking the nod Mrs. Iwaizumi had sent his way earlier. “A deal is a deal.”

“Good. Now get going.”

Iwaizumi sank back against the bench as he watched Oikawa skip towards the house. This was going to be a very, very long summer.

It was the best summer of Oikawa’s life. After being forced to catch bugs and play in the mud nearly every day of the week, he developed a healthy tolerance for dirt, though he was sure he would never be fond of it and he always immediately took a bath as soon as he got back to the house.

Iwaizumi taught him everything he knew, from climbing trees, to catching crayfish, to hunting for beetles, Oikawa tried it all. And although Oikawa was far from being a morning person, he was up bright and early every day, waiting for Iwaizumi to arrive so that they immediately head out to the small forest behind Oikawa’s house. Even though Iwaizumi pretended otherwise, he knew the other boy was just as eager. On the few mornings that Oikawa had managed to sleep through his alarm, Iwaizumi had been in his room, dragging the brunet out of bed before he could register what was happening. 

Mrs. Iwaizumi, though initially a little worried about her violent son’s sudden interest in her employer’s child, quickly accepted their friendship, slathering Oikawa with layers of sunscreen before the boys went out and making them bagged lunches and sweets that the two would take with them on their adventures. She smiled at the way that Oikawa had begun to open up, smiling and laughing in a way that he had never done before. She was just as pleased that Iwaizumi, though still violent and prone to outbursts, had developed an obvious soft spot for his friend, his playful punches contrasting strongly with the fights that he had gotten into with the boys at his school. They were good for each other, and she hoped that the changes would be permanent, even if their friendship wasn’t.

“Iwa-chan,”Oikawa chirped as the two sat with their feet in the creek on a particularly hot day.

“What?” Iwaizumi sighed, exasperated. He’d been enjoying the way that the small minnows had been nipping at his feet, but Oikawa’s voice, loud as ever, had quickly scared them away.

“When I present as an omega, will you be my alpha?”

Iwaizumi’s face turned bright red. “Don’t say stuff like that, stupid,” he muttered, shoving Oikawa hard enough that he would get his point across, but lightly enough that Oikawa wouldn’t fall into the shallow water. He’d already had to pull a crying Oikawa out of the creek more than a few times and, while it had been funny the first time, it had gotten old fast. 

The brunet’s face fell at the other boy’s dismissal. “You wouldn’t want me as an omega?” he said sadly. Then he stuck his chin out. “Good, because I wouldn’t want a brute like you as my alpha. I’m going to marry someone rich and handsome, and Iwa-chan is going to be stuck all alone, because all of the omegas are going to be scared of him and he won’t have any friends and he’s going be ugly forever and—” Oikawa babbled until Iwaizumi put a hand over his mouth, forcing him to be quiet.

“Cut it out, Idiotkawa,” he said, using one of the nicknames he’d created in retaliation to Oikawa’s ‘Iwa-chan.’ “You know I’d…” he faltered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “You’re my best friend. You know I’d want you as an omega,” he finally finished, muttering the last part to himself.

Oikawa let out a haughty sniff and turned his head away. “What makes you think that I’d let you be my alpha?” he asked. He jumped when Iwaizumi let out a bark of laughter.

“’cause no one else would be stupid enough to be stuck with you,” Iwaizumi chuckled, and Oikawa stuck out his tongue.

“You’re still here, though. Doesn’t that make you stupid, then?”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it does. But you wouldn’t let me leave even if I tried,” he said, shooting Oikawa a wry grin.

Oikawa let out a “Hmph” and turned away, crossing his arms and turning his nose up dramatically. Iwaizumi poked at him until he finally started laughing, squirming in an attempt to get away while still trying to maintain his balance. Once Iwaizumi was certain that his friend was paying attention, he grabbed Oikawa’s hand and looked him in the eye.

“But I wouldn’t leave you,” he said seriously. “We’ll always be together. And we’ll catch bugs, climb trees, splash in the creek, and have all sorts of adventures together. 

“I don’t think we can do that forever, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased, though there was a wistfulness in his voice.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi challenged. “Who says?” There was a stubborn, determined glint in his eyes.

“Well, there’s my parents….” Oikawa trailed off, reality setting in again. His parents had only been home once or twice over the past couple of months and had no idea that he was stomping around the forest with Iwaizumi instead of reading his books on omega etiquette and practicing piano like he was supposed to. As much as he wanted it to, this wouldn’t—couldn’t—last forever.

A sharp pain in his arm snapped Oikawa out of his reverie. “Iwa-chaaaaaaan,” he whined, “hitting hurts.”

“Stop worrying about your parents, dumbass. They don’t get to decide what you do with your life,” he said, ignoring Oikawa’s scandalized gasp at his language.

“But Iwa-chan—”

“No buts,” Iwaizumi interrupted. “We’re gonna be together forever.” There was a fierce look on his face that reminded Oikawa of the first time he’d met Iwaizumi—when he’d ruined his beetle hunt— and suddenly he remembered what Mrs. Iwaizumi had said about her son. “Once he sets his sights on something, he goes after it until he catches it.”

At that moment Oikawa decided that no matter what, Iwaizumi was going to be his alpha and he was going to be Iwaizumi’s omega. He grinned happily. “Do we have a deal, then?”

The corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth lifted into a smile, and he raised his hand towards his mouth to spit in it. But instead of spitting, he stared at his hand for a moment, then shook his head and held out a pinky. Surprised, Oikawa stared curiously at his friend’s face before locking his pinky with Iwaizumi’s.”

“It’s a deal,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa paced impatiently as he waited for Iwaizumi. He had seen Mrs. Iwaizumi’s car pull into the side entrance of the Oikawa’s estate over 15 minutes ago, but Iwaizumi still hadn’t shown up. Sure, it wasn’t the first time Iwaizumi had been late. Mrs Iwaizumi frequently forced her son to help with small chores before he was released to play with Oikawa. Character building, she had called it. Whenever she gave her speech about taking on responsibilities, Iwaizumi would roll his eyes at Oikawa and mouth “annoying” when he thought his mother wasn’t looking. He was almost always given extra chores whenever he did. Oikawa had quickly realized that nothing got past Iwaizumi’s mother.

This time was different, though. Iwaizumi had always waved exasperatedly from the house, yelling for Oikawa to come help him so that they could go exploring sooner. Oikawa had strained his eyes, looking for Iwaizumi’s face in a window or behind the kitchen door, but never saw a trace of his friend.

Oikawa felt a chill run through his body as a slight breeze broke through the still air. He hugged his light jacket closer to his body, trying to ignore the weather and everything it symbolized. Fall was coming, which meant that the summer was coming to an end. Soon both Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be going back to school.

He had begged his mother to let him go to a public school, saying that he would learn just as much there as he would at his expensive private school, but she had just stared at him blankly before giving him a firm no. Why would he want to go to one of those schools? she had asked. Did he really want to spend his time around poor kids who wore hand-me-down clothes and would probably drop out before they made it through high school? Oikawa had just shrugged, not wanting to tell her about Iwaizumi. He didn’t want her to take Iwaizumi away from him. She would ruin their friendship, just like she ruined everything else.

At one point, in a moment of desperation, Oikawa had asked Mrs. Iwaizumi if she would let Iwaizumi go to his school. When she had softly said that they couldn’t afford it, he had puffed out his chest and said that he would pay for it. He got an allowance, and, like a good omega, he was supposed to take care of his alpha. Mrs. Iwaizumi had given him a sad smile.

“I’m not sure that your parents would let Hajime be your alpha,” she had said slowly, as though she was trying to break some sort of terrible news to him. But he had just shaken his head.

“Iwa-chan and I are going to be together forever,” he insisted, refusing to accept her statement as even a possibility. “So can he go to my school?”

The answer had been no, of course, and Oikawa had tried to hide his disappointment. He was supposed to stay with his alpha. What kind of omega was he if he couldn’t even manage that?

Iwaizumi’s mother, almost as good at sensing Oikawa’s moods as her son was, had patted him on the cheek and promised to bring Iwaizumi with her every weekend.

“Does this mean our deal is broken?” he’d asked, sobbing as he’d told Iwaizumi that they wouldn’t be going to the same school.

“’course not,” Iwaizumi had said. “We don’t have to be right next to each other to be together. I go home every day, don’t I? Oikawa had nodded. Do you think we’re not together when I leave for the night? 

Oikawa’s mood had improved slightly after that, though Iwaizumi punched him on a regular basis for “sulking around an idiot.”

 “Sheesh, you act like I’ve died or something. Cut it out,” he’d said. “’sides, you’re an ugly crier.” Oikawa had tried to put his sadness behind him. While it wasn’t the same as seeing him every day, Oikawa had clung to the fact that they wouldn’t be completely separated.

 As he waited for Iwaizumi, though, Oikawa couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the year was going to feel like this. He felt empty, sitting outside alone without Iwaizumi to hit him, insult him, and pick at him until Oikawa finally cracked a smile. His old worries started to come back as he wondered if Iwaizumi would find a pretty omega at his public school. Maybe he would want someone who he’d get to see every day. What if he found someone who wasn’t annoying like Oikawa? Someone who didn’t whine and complain, and cry. He hugged himself tighter, forgetting the cold and instead trying to hold himself together. He was nothing without his alpha.

 “Oi, Crappykawa! I can practically hear your brain trying to work. Stop thinking so much,” Iwaizumi rasped, as he moved slowly across the yard.

 Oikawa nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been so absorbed by his own self pity that he hadn’t even heard Iwaizumi sneaking up on him.

 "Rude Iwa-chan,” Oikawa huffed, addressing both Iwaizumi’s growing list of insulting nicknames and the fact that he had snuck up on Oikawa.

 When Iwaizumi didn’t reply, he took a closer look at his friend, scrunching his face up as he examined Iwaizumi. “My, Iwa-chan. You look terrible. Even worse than usual, that is,” he said loftily. “We both know that you’ll never be beautiful, but that doesn’t mean that you should let yourself go completely.”

 Iwaizumi, who had finally made it to Oikawa, punched his friend halfheartedly. “Shut up,” he groaned. “I think I’m getting sick.” Oikawa scrunched up his nose.

 “So you decided to come here and get me sick, too? How inconsiderate of you,” he sniffed, waiting for Iwaizumi to smack him or tell him that his bad personality was getting worse. Instead, Iwaizumi flopped down next to his feet.

“You want me to go home?” he asked. “’cause I’d be more than happy to sleep instead of seeing your ugly face.” He closed his eyes and leaned against Oikawa’s legs. “’sides, I bet spending too much time around you is what got me sick.”

“Please don’t go,” Oikawa said quickly. He didn’t have a lot of time left to spend with Iwaizumi. The last things he wanted his friend to do was leave. ”I promise I’ll be nice. I’ll even pretend that you don’t look like a dead fish right now.”

Iwaizumi snorted at that. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I knew you’d have a panic attack if I didn’t show up, otherwise I would’ve stayed home,” he slurred, giving Oikawa a loopy smile that might have worried him if he hadn’t been so relieved to see his friend. He slowly placed his hand on Iwaizumi’s head, carding through the dark, spiky hair. Iwaizumi let out a small noise and leaned into Oikawa’s touch. Oikawa couldn’t help but smile at this. He bit back a snarky comment in favor of enjoying a rare moment. It wasn’t very often that his friend shed his tough exterior and displayed his more vulnerable side. As much as he loved going on adventures with Iwaizumi, it was moments like this that he loved most. He could happily do this every day.

Eventually Iwaizumi broke out of his trance, shaking his head in an effort to wake himself up. He stared at Oikawa blearily for a moment before holding out his hand.

 “Help me up.” Oikawa pulled him, struggling a bit since Iwaizumi was practically a dead weight.

 “You’re getting so heavy,” he complained.

 “You’ve just got noodle arms,” Iwaizumi replied, and Oikawa grinned, happy that his friend was still acting somewhat normally. He waited as the dark-haired boy struggled to maintain his balance, swaying slightly as he glanced around with a confused look on his face.

“Head rush?” Oikawa guessed, hoping that it wasn’t anything more serious than that.

“Somethin’ like that,” Iwaizumi muttered, finally just leaning against Oikawa’s shoulder, giving him the chance to look more closely at Iwaizumi. His usually tanned skin was closer to a dusky red, and a sheen of sweat coated his face, slowly seeping into Oikawa’s jacket. “Why is it so damn hot out here?” he asked, wiping his face on the back of his hand.

Oikawa frowned. “Iwa-chan, I don’t think that was what your teachers meant when they said you should learn more words,” he said in response to Iwaizumi’s cursing. He shook his head. “And it’s freezing out here. I’m wearing a jacket and I’m still cold.”

“It’s ‘cause you don’t eat enough. You’re too skinny.” He rested most of his weight on Oikawa’s shoulder, causing his friend to stumble a little. Oikawa wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s body, pulling him close in an effort to keep him from falling over.

“It’s OK, Iwa-chan. Cave men like you survived much worse weather.” He brightened, remembering an old science lesson. “Who knows, maybe you’ll evolve!”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, and Oikawa began to feel heat seeping through his layers of clothing. “You’re burning up, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, a little worried at this point. Iwaizumi muttered something indiscernible as he buried his face in Oikawa’s jacket, inhaling deeply.

Somewhere in the back of Oikawa’s mind a red flag went up, telling him that something was very, very wrong, and that he needed to get help. At the same time, though, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Iwaizumi. This was his friend—his best friend—and his alpha. He was supposed to take care of his alpha. That was what omegas were supposed to do, he rationalized, willing to accept any excuse to keep Iwaizumi next to him. He pulled his friend even closer and held on to him tightly as a chant of minemineminemine went through his head. 

Iwaizumi’s skin was practically scorching Oikawa, and suddenly his jacket felt a little too warm. Maybe Iwaizumi was right. It was hot today. He felt the sweat starting to trickle down his face and neck as he struggled to hold Iwaizumi up. His arms were shaking and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to do this much longer.

“C’mon,” he murmured, “let’s get you inside. You need to lay down.”

I think I should go home,” Iwaizumi said slowly, as though he were having trouble stringing words together. Oikawa felt a spike of panic shoot through his body at the idea, his senses screaming at him to keep Iwaizumi close. And in spite of what Iwaizumi had said, he clung to Oikawa, refusing to budge even when Oikawa tried to readjust his own grip. Finally he gave up and settled on dragging his friend towards the house.

“Do you want me to get your mom,” he grunted, ignoring all the voices that were telling him not to.

“’s’okay,” he said. “Just promise you’ll stay with me?”

“Always.”

Oikawa was sweating hard by the time they got back. Regardless of whether it was hot outside, it was impossible to ignore how much of the heat was radiating off of Iwaizumi. It was suffocating. In spite of that, he couldn’t get himself to let go of his best friend, and had prayed hard that Mrs. Iwaizumi wouldn’t hear them as they struggled through the house. He pressed his face against Iwaizumi’s neck as they struggled up the stairs, inhaling deeply. He smelled wonderful, though Oikawa had trouble identifying the exact scent. He sniffed a few more times before deciding that it was a mix of pine and the sweet musk that came before a heavy rain. He absently wondered if all the time that Iwaizumi had spent in the woods had caused his skin to become permanently infused with the scent of forest.

They both nearly tripped over the final step as Oikawa hesitantly ran his tongue along the juncture between Iwaizumi’s neck and shoulder, trying to get a taste of the heavenly scent wafting off of his friend. Iwaizumi let out a strangled noise, but leaned into the touch, baring his neck to Oikawa.

Oikawa nuzzled his face against the other boy’s scent glands, trying to mix his own scent with Iwaizumi’s. “Why do you smell so good?” he asked, and Iwaizumi let out a soft moan in response. That was enough to give Oikawa the strength to pull Iwaizumi into his room and set him down on the floor. Before he could stand up straight, though, Iwaizumi was pulling him down on top of him.

They barely registered what happened next, hands fumbling against each other’s clothes as they desperately tried to strip each other down. Oikawa couldn’t get close enough to him, pressing his entire body against Iwaizumi’s and pinning him to the ground as he ran his hands over Iwaizumi’s smooth skin. He hardly registered the heat of Iwaizumi’s body, his own skin burning with the same intensity. Hands still exploring every inch of Iwaizumi, he started to nip against his friend’s neck, occasionally swirling his tongue over the scent glands.

Iwaizumi groaned in response and raked his blunt nails down Oikawa’s back while biting a kissing the closest available parts of his friend’s body. Neck, chin, shoulders, chest—Iwaizumi marked as much of Oikawa as he was able. The brunet felt a shiver of pleasure coarse through his body at Iwaizumi’s enthusiastic response.

He quickly hit a point where touching wasn’t enough. His hands wandered down to Iwaizumi’s hips, which he firmly held in place as he rutted against the dark-haired boy’s body. Iwaizumi inhaled sharply as he attempted to buck his hips up. For the first time ever, Oikawa’s own strength outmatched his friend’s.

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan,” he gasped, a guttural sound reverberating through his body as his words quickly dissolved into grunts and moans. He could hear Iwaizumi’s own voice mumbling something against his own ear, but was too far gone to even guess, much less understand, what he was saying.

Instinct taking over completely, he spread Iwaizumi’s legs before snapping his hips forward. A rush of pleasure shot through his body as a cry was ripped from his throat. Iwaizumi writhed below him, just as far gone.

It only lasted a few moments, and as Oikawa hit his climax, his teeth closed down on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, teeth ripping through skin and muscle with a ferocity that he’d never before possessed. He didn’t even hear Iwaizumi’s yell as his vision went white and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth. Unable to hold himself up any longer, his body collapsed against the other boy’s, which was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Somewhere in the distance Oikawa heard a woman’s shriek before his world went completely black.

Oikawa shut his eyes as quickly as he opened them, partially blinded by the light streaming through his bedroom window. He groggily rubbed a hand against his eyes before letting his arm fall limply against his forehead, too tired to complete the motion. Blinking slowly, he turned his head towards the clock on his nightstand, vaguely wondering if he’d slept through his alarm again. 4 o’clock. He still had a few more hours. He eyes drifted shut again as his brain tried to process the strange idea that it was broad daylight at 4 in the morning.

He shot up, his muscles screaming as he looked at the clock again. 4 PM, not AM. He’d slept through the entire day and Iwa-chan hadn’t woken him up. Heart racing, he flopped against his pillow again, too sore to get up. He must have gotten sick. It was the only reason that would explain why Iwaizumi wasn’t with him, in spite of the fact that they only had a few more days together before they went back to school.

“Iwa-chaaaaan!” he half yelled half croaked, panic starting to set in as he wondered if Iwaizumi had left without telling him goodbye. What if he wasn’t allowed to come back until he was better? Since they had first met, he hadn’t gone longer than a day without seeing his friend. The thought that he might not be able to see Iwaizumi for another week or two terrified him. He needed his Iwa-chan. He was supposed to be here. Why wasn’t he here?

Ignoring his aching muscles, he slid out of bed, then stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch his breath, which was coming out in pants as panic and fear squeezed around his heart. He hugged his arms around himself. This feeling … it was worse than the feeling he’d gotten when the bullies had picked on him, or when his parents had told him how ashamed they were of him, or when he’d felt the disappointed and derisive stares of his teachers and parents’ friends. 

This was different. Iwaizumi was his world, and he felt like that world was crumbling around him. A part of him, the more logical side, knew that he shouldn’t feel this way—that Iwaizumi had just gone home for the day and would be back soon. But somehow it seemed like so much more than that. Iwaizumi was supposed to be here, or he was supposed to be with Iwaizumi. It was impossible to pinpoint, but something just felt wrong. He felt like he’d lost a piece of himself, one that he couldn’t survive without.

“Iwa-chan!” he yelled again, his voice breaking mid syllable. He was about to yell again, but stopped when he heard footsteps and angry voices echoing through the hallway. He sniffed the air, disappointment clouding his mind. It smelled all wrong, not at all like Iwaizumi. Before he had a chance to even consider who else it might be, his mother flung the door open, her eyes blazing with anger. In spite of his panic, Oikawa took a step back. He’d seen her angry before, but never like this. 

“Tooru, dear,” she gritted out. “What are you doing out of bed?” She smoothed her face into what she probably thought was a soft look, though it really was just a slightly-less-angry glare. To his mother, Oikawa thought, they were probably one and the same.

 When he didn’t respond, she pursed her lips. “Get back in bed, Tooru,” she said firmly. “You’re sick. You’ve been sick and hallucinating all morning.” She eyed the man next to her, who, as if on cue, nodded.

 The man held out his hand. “I’m Dr.—” he started to say, before Oikawa’s mother cut him off.

 “I have several phone calls to make. I trust you can take care of things,” she said, arching a brow.

 The doctor smiled thinly. “Of course. I’ll make sure that everything is OK.”

“Good. Get back in bed, Tooru,” she snapped, before turning on heel and walking out of the room. Oikawa, against his will but in line with his better judgment, slunk back into bed.

 The doctor knelt next to him, silent as he pulled out his stethoscope, as well as several other tools that Tooru didn’t recognize.

 “Congratulations, son,” he said as he checked Oikawa’s vitals. Oikawa cocked his head to the side, more than a little perplexed. The doctor seemed to notice his confusion, and elaborated. “You presented as an alpha today. Your parents are so proud.”

 “An alpha?” Oikawa said, not sure if he was hearing the man correctly. “But I’m an omega. I can’t be an alpha.” The man winked at him.

 “That’s not what your body is saying. You’re 100% full-blooded alpha.”

 Oikawa was silent for a few moments as it sank in. That at least explained why his mother was home. He knew he ought to be happy. His parents might actually be proud of him for once, rather than finding excuses not to see or talk to their omega son. But somehow that didn’t matter to him. Not anymore, at least.

 “I can’t be an alpha,” he said, hysteria starting to set in. “I’m supposed to be an omega. I have to be an omega. I can’t—” he let out a small sob. “I can’t be with Iwa-chan if I’m not an omega.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he hung his head, hot tears splashing against his pants. The doctor patted his back comfortingly as Oikawa cried.

 “I think,” he said, “that you are the first person I have ever met who has been upset about being an alpha. You’re a special kid, and I’m sure your Iwa-chan would want to be with you regardless of what you presented as.” He gave Oikawa a smile, which Oikawa returned with a small smile of his own.

 “Do you really think so? Do you think that he wouldn’t care?” Oikawa asked hopefully.

“I don’t see why not. Both of your parents are alphas, are they not?” Oikawa wrinkled his nose slightly at that, but nodded. “Then there you have it,” the doctor exclaimed, shooting Oikawa a conspiratorial grin. “There’s no reason why you and your Iwa-chan can’t be together.”

“And who exactly is this ‘Iwa-chan’?” a cold voice clipped. Both Oikawa and the doctor flinched as they turned their heads towards the door, where Mrs. Oikawa was standing. The doctor stood quickly, bowing slightly to Oikawa’s mother.

“He seems to be in excellent condition, madam,” the doctor began, but she held her hand up and walked past him, kneeling slightly so that she was on eye level with her son. Oikawa swallowed hard, his mother’s face so close that he wasn’t able to look anywhere else.

“He’s my friend,” he mumbled, a spike of affection shooting through him in spite of the situation. Mrs. Oikawa frowned.

“This ‘friend’ wouldn’t happen to be the son of our former housekeeper, would he?” Oikawa’s eyes went wide, his panic at having his secret discovered preventing him from registering exactly what his mother had said. The woman took that as a yes, her lips pressing into a hard line as a spark of fury ignited behind her eyes.

“Is he here?” Oikawa asked, his desire to see his friend outweighing his fear of his mother. “Did he come over at all today?” His eyes slid to the side. “I need to tell him that I’m an alpha.”

Confusion flashed across Mrs. Oikawa’s face for a split second. “Tooru,” she said slowly, “when was the last time that you saw your,” she paused, “friend.” She spat the last word out as though she found it personally offensive.

“Yesterday,” he said hesitantly, worried that he was going to get in trouble because of it. But his mother’s face broke into an elated smile, which had Oikawa recoiling, because anything that made his mother genuinely happy couldn’t be a good thing.

She turned to the doctor. “Well?”

The doctor looked between the two of them. “It isn’t entirely uncommon,” he started.

“Good,” she said. “Now if you don’t mind, please wait outside while I speak with my son.” Her tone gave the impression that she didn’t really care one way or the other what the doctor thought. She waited as the man slipped through the door, closing it gently behind him, before she turned back to her son.

She cupped her hand against Oikawa’s cheek, her hands, though softer than those of Iwaizumi’s mother’s, felt threatening as she pressed her long nails against his jaw. As hard as he tried to resist it, Oikawa couldn’t help but bare his neck to her in submission, an action that left her looking both pleased and disgusted at the same time. 

“Tooru, dear,” she began, “presenting as an alpha is both mentally and physically taxing. The doctor says that it’s not uncommon to hallucinate when it happens, as your body is going through a lot of changes that your mind might have some difficulty processing.” She caressed her hand against his cheek, her nails lightly scraping against his fair skin. She lifted his chin up, forcing him to look into her eyes. “It’s very important that you realize that none of these hallucinations are real. They’re just dreams, do you understand?”

Oikawa tried to nod, but his mother’s iron grip held him in place. “I understand,” he said in a small voice. When she let go, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He stared after his mother, who had already started to walk away, her gaze fixed on her phone as she tapped the screen a few times before holding the device against her ear.

“Your father will be here tomorrow morning to talk with you about this,” she said in a distracted voice. “Try not to cause too much trouble until them.”

“Wait, Mother.” Oikawa racked his brain for something to say. More than anything he wanted to see his friend, but he also knew that was the last thing his mother would give him were he to ask. “Can Mrs. Iwaizumi make me food while I’m sick?” he asked quickly, knowing that anything she made would be delivered by Iwaizumi.

Oikawa’s mother paused at the door. “Mrs. Iwaizumi stopped by the house today to drop off her letter of resignation,” she said tersely. “She and her family had to move away. It was a family emergency, I believe. She didn’t leave a forwarding address.” And with that, she shut the door, leaving Oikawa in a state of shock. He listened numbly as her heels echoed through the hallway, trying desperately to process what she had said as the words ‘resignation’ and ‘moved away’ floated through his mind like foreign and abstract ideas.

“Iwa-chan,” he whispered, barely registering the tears as they spilled down his face. His friend had left without even saying goodbye. Even if it had been an emergency, he knew Iwaizumi would have fought tooth and nail to at least say goodbye to Oikawa. He swallowed hard. Maybe this was his fault. He’d broken his end of the deal by presenting as an alpha. Maybe Iwaizumi didn’t want to be with another alpha, and had decided that leaving his friend would be better than being friends with a promise breaker.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to.” He clutched at his sheets, wishing desperately that he could go back and find a way to change it all. Before he had met Iwaizumi, he had wished almost every day that he could be an alpha, or even a beta. Anything but an omega. But ever since he had met Iwaizumi, no one else had mattered. He’d be happy being an omega as long as they were together.

Burying his face in his pillow, he tried hard to ignore the gaping hole in his chest as he sobbed and grieved for everything he’d lost.