ushijima considers this. she had asked him because she wanted his opinion, so he would give her his honest one. “lay down,” he urges her. he does not command. he keeps the alpha tone out of his voice as he watches her perch on the edge of her bed. “i’ll do the work.” a little thrill of excitement goes through him at the words. he wants to do all the hard work for her, to take care of her, to watch her come undone under him.
he takes a step forward and his knees hit the edge of her bed, before he calmly pulls himself atop the bed and sits on his knees atop it. he waits for her to get comfortable. he has an inkling of what he wants to do to her. he does not ask her if she wants to remove anything else from her body. he is sure she is nervous enough just having her shirt and bra off. they are here for her breasts. even if he wants to see more of her, to go further, he will not push her.
he will not trick himself into thinking this is any deeper than it is.
he smiles a little. “may i touch you now?” he asks her. he is sure that with anyone else, they might huff and be annoyed at him, but kuma is so patient with him. even when ushijima is at a loss for what to do in such an interaction, he knows she will never become angry with him for asking questions. he reaches out and touches her shoulder first, trailing his calloused palms over her soft skin. “i would like to... use my mouth, if you are amenable?” the image of suckling at her chest fills his head and he barely manages to suppress a shudder.
“needy, needy,” michi coos, but her voice is sticky sweet and her eyes glimmer with fondness. “yes, alpha,” she tells oikawa, just so she can see him shudder at the words. he has such easy buttons to press. she smiles as she leans forward and her fingers trace gently over iwaizumi’s abdomen, catching the edge of his shirt and tugging. “let’s get this off, huh?” she asks him and starts to pull it up, slowly, careful so that the fabric drags against his skin just enough to be this side of deliciously agonizing.
once she gets it off, she tosses it over her shoulder so it can land somewhere else in the room. michi wastes no time in leaning forward and pressing her lips, cold compared to the heat of iwaizumi’s skin, to his neck. she draws them carefully down his collarbone, and lets her tongue peek out, dragging against his tan skin to hit all the best sensations.
this all makes her wonder how her heat will be, once she gets it, now that she has oikawa and iwaizumi in her life. “are you okay, hajime?” she murmurs as she leans back and peppers kisses to his cheek, her lips still tilted into a smile. she makes sure she smells non threatening with omega pheromones, because she knows iwaizumi likes that, likes to remember she’s like him, gentle and not as in your face as oikawa.
“tooru is going to take care of you now,” she tells him and one hand comes up to cup his face, stroke fingers against his strong jaw, “but i’m here too, so let me do it with him, okay? if you fight it, it only makes it that much worse for everyone, yourself the most!” she bops him on the nose and giggles. “you always do like to make it rough, huh?” she flashes him a cheeky smile and then leans down to press chaste, sweet kisses to his mouth.
“what next, alpha?” she directs at tooru as she glances his way, her eyes studying his face. flushed, a little on the edge of control, so a typical alpha when his omega goes into heat. she’s impressed by his control, to be honest, because most would have melted and given into their more baser instincts by now. hajime’s heat has saturated the room at this point and there’s no ignoring it anymore. he’s deep into it now.
“I thought you were on suppressants?” (A/B/O starters; perfect one for Kuma~ let's say... noya and kuma? or you can do all 3, WHATEVER FLOATS YOUR BOAT!)
noya can’t help himself: he laughs without restraint at her words. “enough to let me do that, huh?” he asks and his smile is huge, splitting his face as he nuzzles against the top of her head. she’s still tucked against him and it’s cute, she’s so cute, it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst into a million tiny pieces. why is everything she does so endearing?
the humor of the situation gets zapped a little when he feels her hand curl around him. he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and his hips hitch forward in the tiniest motion toward her grip. “kuma,” he murmurs and his voice has dropped an octave, at least, and resumed its more gravelly nature from before. “god, i can’t think when you touch me like that.”
he pulls back and tries to look at her face, but she’s ducked away and he decides to respect the little bit of distance she wants right now. maybe it’s overwhelming for her. kuma seems to have to take things one step at a time, and noya is fine with that. he’s fine with anything to do with kuma. he’d get down on his hands and knees and crawl for her if she so asked. “please,” he begs, because he wonders if those pretty words will get her to pick up the pace, or maybe even grip him just a tad bit harder, stroke him to see his reactions. he’s sure his pupils are blown wide and he pants, his whole body heating up to degrees he only manages to get on his own.
“They’re... swollen,” she had said, and he could not help but to look down at them as she spoke the words. They looked uncomfortable, angrily red and puffy. Ushijima wondered how he would soothe them. He had many thoughts about what he would like to do to them, but would those things make it easier for Kuma to bear? There is much he needs to consider here before he acts. He does not want to be rash. Not with Kuma. Not ever with Kuma.
When she places one of his large hands onto her aching breasts, a little shock of sensation thrums through him. He feels as if he has been set alight from the inside, a bolt of lightening brought down onto the earth and been made into a man. He rubs a finger softly over her nipple and slides his finger all the way around it, tracing its areola. He can already see that the sensation quite possibly is making her shake more than she was already.
“Perhaps,” he began slowly. His voice is only the slightest bit unsteady. Does she hear it? He did not think, going into this, that it would effect him quite to the degree that it has. “Perhaps we should go to your bedroom and get you comfortable.” He wants to lay her down and ease his mouth over her chest, lick and suck every discomfort from her body until she quakes with the release of tension.
He licks his lips and steadies himself. This is not like him. He has never felt like this before, so vastly undone just from the sight of her topless and begging him for relief. He steels himself. He is here only for her comfort, not for his own. It is not a bad thing if he finds pleasure in this-- he is sure she would not fault him-- but he doesn’t want to take advantage of her. He will do only as she wishes and nothing more. “I want you to be comfortable first and foremost. I know--” He pauses. “I know you are not right now because of your predicament, but if you can relax while I help...?”
Ushijima has started to notice different things about Kuma.
It’s like each day is a new surprise waiting to be revealed, a new layer of Kuma that unfolds before his very eyes. Sometimes, when they are together at his flat, and he is supposed to be studying, instead his focus and attention will be completely on her. She does this thing with her tongue where it pokes out, just a little, when she’s working hard on the next scene of her manga. He likes to watch her brows furrow and her eyes grow determined as her hands draw each scene with such careful intensity.
There’s also whenever he watches her play with her cat. Pochi, she had told him the first day he had been invited over to spend time together. She had hefted up the cat in her arms and made him peer at him with a serious look on his face as he nodded along to her words. Pochi is her son, she said. Pochi likes to wear sweaters and go for walks. Kuma loves Pochi very much. She hoped that Ushijima would come to care for Pochi as well. She would like it if they are friends.
Ushijima took that very seriously. He was careful around the cat. He had never had a pet before. His mother’s family were very strict and refused to even consider getting him one. There were fishes in the ponds of the garden, but they were not for companionship. They were to enjoy the aesthetic of while taking a leisurely stroll on a calm spring day. They were no closer to Ushijima than his own mother was. It was a carefully constructed mask for the outside world.
Pochi was much different. He really is a very sweet cat. He would roll over for Ushijima scratches on his belly, and meow loudly if he felt as if Ushijima had slacked in some way over not giving enough pats. Ushijima liked Pochi. Ushijima liked Kuma even more, but Pochi was high on his list as well.
Kuma enjoyed cooking. Ushijima had tried several different recipes so far since they had started spending more time together. He had never tried a lot of the things she whipped up, because his family over ever prepared stuffy six course meals. The university had adequate food, but nothing as nice as the things Kuma put together in her kitchen. She hummed while she cooked. Ushijima enjoyed listening to her as she sang entire songs under her breath as she worked.
Ushijima wondered if there would always be something new, something endearing to uncover about Kuma. He hoped so. He wanted to get to know her and spend more time with her, as much time as she would allow, as long as he was able.
He could see her from the front of the store, where she was tucked in the back looking at the sexual health items. He had seen her before, but had never really noticed her. He tended to ignore anyone who did not ask him for help directly. He had too many things to do and not enough time in his shifts to do them all. That meant that mostly customers were left to their own devices unless they sought him out.
He went back to stocking the shelves further down the aisle and tried not to be too nosy. It was her own business what she was doing over there. He did not want to seem judging about what she may or may not buy from that section. Ushijima was not one of the people who thought narrowly about sexual freedom.
“Excuse me?” said a voice from his left. He turned to find the girl he had been thinking about looking at him nervously.
“Yes?” he asked. She wrung her hands together and her eyes darted away, before going back to him. Her hair was pulled back away from her face, which left Ushijima with a clear view of her pale face and lilac eyes. She had very pretty eyes, he thought. “May I help you with something today?”
She bit her lower lip and worried it between her teeth. “The medicine to induce heats,” she said finally after she seemed to agonize over her own words for several more moments. “I couldn’t find it where I thought it would be? By the condoms. Do you know where it is? Oh, well, of course you would know, but… do you know if it’s in stock, or if it’s somewhere else?”
“It’s behind the counter,” he told her. “A lot of people try to steal it, so it’s locked up.” Her purple eyes met his for a moment before she looked away again. “Do you need a box of it? I can get one for you and ring you up.”
“Yes, please,” she whispered quietly.
“This way,” he said and turned to walk toward the front of the store. He didn’t look around to see if she followed, but he could hear the whisper of her clothes as she trailed along behind him. He kept his face impassive, because he really didn’t care either way if she needed the medicine. He wondered if she came during the evening shift because of convenience or because she had tried during morning shift. The morning shift clerk was a judgmental old croon, and Ushijima did not find it pleasant to have to speak to her even on a good day. He would not blame her if she came back later in hopes that she would get less scorn.
He reached under the counter and unlocked the drawer where the excellerants were kept. “One box is fifty dollars, and with tax that will be fifty-four dollars and twenty five cents.” He rung up the box and bagged it efficiently, before he looked at the girl again and waited patiently for her response.
“Fifty…?”
“Yes,” he replied.
The girl shuffled about her purse a little and sighed heavily. He understood. Anything pertaining to ruts or heats were overly expensive in the market. There was no avoiding them unless you had them medically ended, and that was an extremely expensive and invasive operation. Therefore, everyone had to have heats and ruts, and the medical market could make a lot of money with these sorts of things. “Okay,” she said after she pulled out her wallet. He watched as she counted each dollar and the change before she handed it over. He was pleased she did not set it on the counter. He hated customers who did that. Instead, she calmly handed it to him and smiled afterward. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he told her as he rung it up and put the receipt in her bag. “I hope to see you again. Have a nice day.”
She opened her mouth for a moment and looked as if she might say something more, but instead she shook her head a little and waved. “You too,” and then she was out the door before Ushijima could think to say anything more. He stared after her for another few moments, his thoughts far away, before he snapped back to himself. Stocking would not complete itself, he thought, and that was that.
Ushijima did not see her again for two weeks.
He was unsure if that was because of scheduling or because she did not swing by the drug store. He was not in the habit to watch each customer as they came in, or to keep track of when and how often they chose to stop by. The only customer he ever took notice of was Oikawa, and that was only because they had a history with each other from high school.
So he did not see the girl again for two weeks, and that was fine. She had interested him if only because for some odd reason her interaction with him had been memorable. He went about his life as he always did: school, work, and volleyball. For the most part, it was all very uneventful. Ushijima had teammates, classmates and coworkers, though he supposed he did not have any friends. He did not feel their loss too keenly, however, mostly because he had no time to think about it.
She came in again one weekend night, and she looked frazzled. Ushijima was behind the counter this time. No stocking needed to be done, because the old woman on day shift had actually done her job. That in itself was surprising, because very often she did nothing at all as far as Ushijima could determine. He was not sure how she continued to be employed.
“Good evening,” Ushijima greeted as he looked up, and there she was, black hair left loose around her face this time and purple eyes a little too bright. “Welcome to Rite Aid. Please let me know if I can be of assistance.”
“T-thank you,” she said and then she disappeared deeper into the store. Ushijima watched her, before he shrugged it off. She seemed just a little in a hurry. He could not blame her. It was a Saturday night, and he did not wish to be here either. He needed the pay, however, so here he shall remain. He was almost out of food, and his payday was fast approaching. Saturday nights were boring regardless. He did not have practices on Saturdays, in some misguided attempt to let the volleyball players have a social life. As if that was something they needed, Ushijima scoffed. They should not be on the team if they were not serious about their sport’s career.
Ushijima returned to his magazine. The newest issue of Men’s Volleyball had been released and he was eager to see what articles had been included this time. Several minutes passed like this. No one wanted to be at a Rite Aid on a Saturday night. The only customer in the store had been the girl, and that had been the case for hours now. He only had two more hours left and then he could close up, and go home himself.
“Excuse me?” came a timid voice. Ushijima looked up to find the girl in front of his register. She was wringing her hands again. He wondered if that was what she did when she was nervous to possibly inconvenience someone. “You’re… the condoms. You’re out of them?”
“Are we?” Ushijima asked. That’s a shock. Ushijima had stocked them last night. He had made sure that there was nothing in that section empty. Had they really run out of so many in twenty-four hours? He got to his feet and tucked his magazine under the counter. “I can check the back for you.”
“Thank you!” She bowed a little as he stepped out from around the register. He waved her off.
“No problem,” he told her as he walked toward the back. He made a detour by the condoms and found that they really were all out. Every single brand had been wiped from the shelves. Ushijima paused and scowled. That hag on day shift must have gone on a crusade again and attempted to cleverly hide them in the backroom. Ushijima heaved the world’s weariest sigh before he went on the hunt to find them again.
Five minutes later, and he had an armful of them. “I’m unsure what brand you wanted,” he told her. She had gravitated back to the condom display in the back to wait for him. “I brought you one of each, that way you could choose.” He set them out on the displays and stepped back so she could browse. He would get the rest of them after he rung her up. There really was no customer traffic, so he would have plenty of time to drag out all the condoms and put them back in their right order.
“Sorry for the bother, Ushijima,” she said. Ah, she had looked at his nametag. Should such a gesture warm him? He felt rather foolish. Perhaps it was because he did not interact with very many people, and even less were the number who were polite or friendly toward him. It must mean that any gesture of goodwill was strengthened tenfold.
He waved it off again. Both were too polite, he supposed. They seemed to get into this cycle easily. “It’s my job,” he told her. She picked up a box and read the back of it. He wondered if she was looking for something in particular. It would perhaps be too invasive to ask her or try to give her advice. He would not be able to guide her on good condom choice regardless. He had no experience with the things outside of health class in high school. “How is your Saturday night?” That was a polite thing to ask, was it not? He heard countless people ask about weekends frequently.
“Hm?” Her eyes roved over the back of another box of condoms. “Oh!” She turned and smiled at him. It reached her eyes, and this time she looked very pretty without the worry and nerves there. “It’s going very well now that I have another errand to check off my list. How is your Saturday going?” She looked around the store. “It seems rather slow.”
“It’s always like this on weekend nights,” he told her. “Everyone has other things to do. The most we get are college kids coming in on Friday nights to buy booze.” They were near the campus and his coworkers were not always the most stringent on checking IDs. Ushijima had changed that quickly when he had been hired. He got many nasty words over it as well. Most of it had died down by now, since he had been employed here for two months now. “I believe you are my first customer for the past four hours.”
“That slow?” she asked. She did not set the box of condoms back down she had read, but instead turned to face him. She must have chosen. “I’m sorry. Slow is probably better than bad?”
“True,” he agreed. “If you’re ready, I can ring you up?”
“Yes, please,” she said. They walked toward the front together in easy silence. It did not feel awkward or heavy, which was nice. Ushijima held out his hand to take the condoms and scanned them, before he set them inside a plastic bag. “Oh, I don’t need one,” she said. “I have a purse I can put them into. Thank you though!”
He nodded and retrieved the condoms. He pushed through the transaction and told her the total, then took the debit card she handed over to pay. “Thank you, Miss Kikuchi,” Ushijima said after a quick glance at her card. He placed it back in her hand once he had finished running it, and the condoms were given to her next along with the receipt. “Please have a wonderful night. I hope to see you again soon. May your Saturday night continue to go well.”
Kikuchi beamed. “Thank you!” she said. “Hopefully your night continues to go well, even if it’s a bit slow. See you next time!”
Ushijima watched her walk out of the store before he pulled his stool back up and seated himself. He thought for a few moments after she was gone, back over the encounter, and when he pulled himself out of his head he had a little smile on his lips. She was a very pleasant person. He had enjoyed their conversation. “Ah,” he said to himself and grabbed his magazine again. There had been an article he wanted to save for later to show Oikawa next time he swung into the store. He would have to do that now before he forgot about it.
Kikuchi was lost from his thoughts once more.
Yuta has not clocked out yet. Ushijima has had to listen to her rant about today’s youth for the last hour. He feels as if he is almost to end of his patience, which is surely saying something, because Wakatoshi had always believed he was a very calm person. He did not lose his temper easily. He could not look through his magazines while she was here, because she would throw a fit to management if he did. His bosses did not care as long as his work got done, but Yuta did not share those sort of views.
She made a disgusted noise as the front doors opened. He did not look up. A young person must have entered that she did not appreciate. “Here’s one such example,” she told Ushijima in a loud stage whisper. “She comes in all the time and buys sexual products. She’s not even married, you know. It’s immoral.”
Ushijima finally looked up at this and saw Kikuchi headed toward the back of the store. His brows furrowed. “She has always been polite and kind to me whenever we have spoken,” he told Yuta firmly.
Yuta did not seem pleased with this response. “Does she have you under her sway?” she asked with an angry look on her face. Ushijima stared back at her steadily. “You’re not thinking with your head! You’re thinking with something far more sinful. You should think before you enter into a tempting relationship of the flesh. That is best left for behind closed doors once you are married before the eyes of God.”
“That is your opinion,” Ushijima told her. “I do not think it fair to hold your standards to someone else’s life. It is their choice how they wish to go about their choices.” Ushijima sighed heavily. “Yuta, I believe it’s time for you to clock out. Don’t you need to get home to your husband?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know I’m divorced,” she snapped.
“My mistake,” he replied. His eyes were already away from her however. He’d lost interest in the conversation. She was a heavily judgmental person and it exhausted Ushijima whenever he had to listen to her prattle. “Have a nice night.”
“Did you even listen to a word I said?” she said as she gathered her things angrily into her arms.
“You did not say anything worth listening to,” Ushijima replied tersely. He had finally reached the end of his patience. “Good evening,” he told her as she stormed away. He watched her leave and blinked very slowly to clear his mind of that unpleasant encounter.
“She didn’t clear out all the condoms this time,” Kikuchi said as she set her purchases down before him. Her smile was less nervous this time and more warm, and it reached her eyes. It made them light up in a very fetching way. Ushijima took a moment to appreciate the aesthetic beauty before he smiled back at her. “Though I’m not here for that this time. It’s too bad she’s not still here so she can shove it with all that repressed sex garbage.”
Ushijima snorted as he scanned her items. She had picked up shampoo, conditioner and other household necessities. “She’s stuck in a warped version of reality where her will should be the only one done,” he said. “I’m glad she and I aren’t on the same shift, though I hate to speak ill of a coworker. Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of them I would want to spend time with outside of work.”
Kikuchi nodded knowingly. “The store has a high turnover too, doesn’t it? You’re still rather new here.”
“I’ve worked here only a month or so now,” he agreed. “I believe Yuta has been here the longest at a year and a half. Management sticks around longer, but they shuffle between stores and transfer a lot.” He pressed a few buttons on the register to bring up her total. “Seventeen dollars and nine cents, please.”
Kikuchi counted out her change efficiently before handing it over to him. “Well, at least you’ll be left to your own tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said as he punched in the correct amount of money for the register to take. “I prefer it that way.”
“Thank you, Ushijima,” Kikuchi said and she smiled again, this one even brighter, just for him. Ushijima blinked for a moment and felt a little stunned, before shook it off and bowed a little to her in response.
“It was my pleasure,” he told her. “I hope to see you again. Please, have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
She waved as she left the store. He watched her go and smiled a little, before he reached under his register. He had some homework that needed to be done, and now that Yuta was gone, he could finally get started on it.
Kikuchi came back into the store to a much more welcoming atmosphere.
It had been several days after Yuta had been so rude in regards to her. He hoped intensely that Kikuchi had not overheard the words she had said. Yuta had made a few snide remarks occasionally, but otherwise seemed to let the topic alone. She did not view Kikuchi in a favorable light. Ushijima was not sure how that was any of her business, whether or not he liked Kikuchi’s company.
The next time Kikuchi wandered into Rite Aid, it was to the sight of Oikawa passionately debating whether Kageyama Tobio deserved the full ride scholarship he had gotten to Keio. Oikawa was of the opinion that Kageyama was a know-it-all asshole who did not deserve all the nice things that happened to him. “He only got in because he’s a natural born genius,” he muttered darkly to himself as he set his purchases on the counter. Ushijima took them without a word and rung them up. “Not everyone gets to be so lucky. Not everyone gets to get a full ride scholarship somewhere and follow something as stupid as dreams.”
Ushijima knew that Oikawa was only so bitter because of his own missed chance to go to Keio. It must sting all the more because Kageyama got to go, while Oikawa toiled away at menial jobs and hissed whenever he moved his knee a little too suddenly. He probably thought no one noticed how stiffly he held himself, or how he shifted his weight to favor his one good knee. Ushijima only realized because he had known him through all of middle and high school, and knew the tells. “That is true,” he said, because Oikawa would expect some sort of answer.
His amber eyes came up to glare at Ushijima. “You don’t really believe what I’m saying, do you?”
“I accepted a full ride scholarship,” he pointed out. Ushijima ignored the look that quickly fluttered across Oikawa’s face at the words. They had only recently decided to ignore a lot of the painful things they had said between each other. Ushijima had started to realize that he was blunt to the point of rudeness, sometimes, and that it would be better if he occasionally held his tongue. He had started to try. He did not want to fight with Oikawa, and he found him enjoyable when he was not being cruel or too sharp with his words and actions.
“But your university is…” Oikawa trailed off and wrinkled his nose. Ushijima was under no delusions. His university was not prestigious or the most sought after. He had been offered many scholarships, but not enough were full rides. Even Keio had not offered him a full ride at the time, and he was sure it was because he had lost his last tournament to Karasuno.
“It was the only full ride offered,” Ushijima said. There was no shame there. It had been his best choice out of all the ones that had been offered to him. “With my situation, it was the only one I could accept.” He would not have been able to remain firm with his family and his own beliefs, and afford college if he had not accepted a full ride. Otherwise he would have been forced to either bend to his family’s will, or to strike out completely on his own and hope for the best. “It was the only option at all.”
The bell rang as the doors slid open. Ushijima looked up from the things Oikawa had set down on the counter-- it was not a pain medicine run today, but an actual stop for household goods-- to find Kikuchi had entered the store. “Good evening, Kikuchi,” Ushijima greeted.
Oikawa looked around at the name. “Kuma!” he said and smiled sweetly. It was not a fake smile, but it wasn’t completely honest either. Ushijima watched him wave her over. “Funny running into you here! I haven’t seen you since last weekend when I came over to see Michi!”
“Hello, Oikawa,” Kikuchi said. Kuma, Oikawa had called her. It must be her first name. “Ushijima,” she said with a shy smile. “It’s nice to see you.” She looked between them. “You both know each other?”
“From middle and high school,” Oikawa told her. “We both played volleyball on opposing teams.”
“We were bitter rivals,” Ushijima told her. Oikawa flashed him a sharp look, but Ushijima did not acknowledge it.
“Ushijima beat us every time we went up against his school, and was finally bested by some no name, washed up one in the last tournament of his high school career!” Oikawa laughed, but it was not cruel this time. It was a little bittersweet and wistful. Ushijima supposed he would sound the same if he had not been able to continue playing volleyball. It must be a tough topic for Oikawa to dwell upon, especially now that his knee was deteriorating. “Yet here we are, friends despite it all.”
Ushijima’s surprise must show on his face, but neither companion comments on it. He looked at Oikawa with a slightly startled expression. Friends. He had not known that that was what Oikawa thought of them. He wondered if perhaps he only qualified because most of Oikawa’s previous friends had abandoned he and Iwaizumi when their luck had shifted. As far as Ushijima could work out, no one had kept in contact with either of them past occasional messages asking their health.
“It must be nice,” Kikuchi said. Her smile had not fallen from her face. “To know one another after so long. It establishes a nice back and forth between you both!”
“How do you know one another?” Ushijima asked. He was curious. It was an odd sensation. He had never been overly interested in another person before outside of volleyball games.
“Iwaizumi and I are… seeing Kuma’s roommate,” Oikawa said. There had been a slight hesitation. Ushijima wondered what it was about, but did not feel the need to delve too deeply into it. It was none of his business. “So I know Kuma quite well at this point! I would say we’re friends, wouldn’t you, Kuma?”
Kuma nodded. “Yes!” she agreed. “Definitely friends. You’re very nice when you want to be, Oikawa.”
Oikawa placed a hand to his chest. “You wound me,” he said. He turned back to Ushijima and handed over his debit card. “Well, I better wrap this up. Speaking of Michi, she’s supposed to come over for dinner with Iwaizumi and I, so I have to head back. Thank you, Ushiwaka, and have a horrible night!” He took his card back, plucked up his bags, and dramatically left the store.
Kuma laughed. “He’s like that a lot, isn’t he?” she asked.
Ushijima sighed. “Yes,” he said. “He has not improved with age.”
“I just need the heat accelerants,” Kuma told him. Her eyes darted away from his, but he wished there was a non-awkward way to tell her he did not judge her. Whatever she used these so often for, it was not something Ushijima felt the need to be critical about. It was her body. As long as she was going about it in safe ways, who was Ushijima to judge?
“Fifty four dollars and twenty five cents,” Ushijima told her. He knew it by heart now. She got these quite a few times now. She counted out money instead of using her debit card, and handed over the exact change. “Thank you,” he said as he punched it in.
“Do you still play volleyball?” she asked after he handed her the bag. She dawdled. Ushijima felt a little thrill of excitement. Usually she left as soon as they were done and Ushijima was left to his own devices. This was new. A conversation and some questions to show curiosity. He tried to ignore the flicker of excitement in his gut over the prospect.
“Yes,” he told her. “I was accepted to the local university here on a full ride scholarship because of volleyball. I mostly play it, go to classes, and work here because they had not thought to offer food in the terms of my scholarship.” He shrugged. “I needed to make money somewhere, or else I would probably live off of cup of ramen for the next few years. That’s not the diet an athlete should have, I think.”
“No,” Kuma said with a laugh, “I suppose not. Do you like volleyball? Oh, that’s a dumb question, isn’t it? Sorry.”
“Not at all,” Ushijima said. “There are plenty who only play volleyball because they are good at it, it is expected of them, or both. Some play for the pleasure of it though, or because of a combination of all three. I am a mixture of all three, myself.”
“I see,” Kuma said. “Oh! You can call me Kuma, by the way. I realize that I never introduced myself. Kikuchi Kuma. Pleasure to formally meet you.”
“Ushijima Wakatoshi,” Ushijima told her. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I enjoy when you come into the store. I enjoy the conversation.” Ushijima felt his face heat just a little. Should he have not said that? He was unsure. He was not alone in this boat. Kuma’s own face turned a little pink.
“I’m glad,” she said with a smile toward the ground, shy. There was a loud trilling and she jumped. “Oh, I have to go, I forgot. Sorry, Ushijima! I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yes,” Ushijima told her with a small bow. “I look forward to it.”
She hesitated and continued to smile at him, her eyes a little soft and distant. “Yes,” she told him after a moment, sounding a tad bit surprised. “I look forward to it too.” Then she turned on her heel and rushed from the store. Ushijima was left to stare after her and wonder what this funny feeling in the pit of his stomach meant.
He had a sneaking suspicion he had begun to figure it out, too.
There was something to be said for Yuta: she was upfront with her hostility, and did not mask it as something else. When she did not like someone-- and this happened often, Ushijima had realized-- she was vocal about every single reason that person was immoral. There were others who worked at Rite Aid who were not as clear with their motives or darker sides.
Ushijima found this out about Suzuki one night when Kuma came in, and he had an instant unsavory reaction toward her.
Wakatoshi had seen Kikuchi several times over the last few weeks. They had begun to speak more ever since they had realized they had an acquaintance in common. It seemed to loosen their tongues and make them a little more relaxed when around one another. Ushijima enjoyed the discussions they had while he checked her out and she chattered about this or that. He was fascinated with the moods or expressions that would shift across her face or bright and darken her eyes in turn. They truly were a fetching shade of lilac.
Tonight, Ushijima had been joined by Suzuki as his fellow evening worker. Suzuki had been there a few weeks more than Ushijima had, and liked to lord that over anyone’s head he could. He was a smug, stuck up sort of man. He only worked here because his parents thought it would be good experience. Otherwise, his monetary situation was secure and well off. He looked down on every customer that came through their doors, because their store was located in a seedier part of town.
“This was the only location that had a job open,” Suzuki had lamented one night. “Pity. Everyone who lives in this part of town is fucking trash.” Ushijima had known from that point forward this was not going to be a satisfactory acquaintance.
Kuma waved as she entered and Ushijima raised his own hand to respond. She headed off to gather her future purchases. Ushijima watched her with a fond smile curled at the corner of his lips. His heart was thrumming with happiness at seeing her and knowing she was safe yet another day. It settled something in him whenever he could see her and realize she was at least still surviving whatever life threw her way. Tonight, however, she does not attempt to approach and ask how he was doing. Typically, she would come over and greet him at least instead of just a wave. He furrowed his brows, but did not question it further. Perhaps she was busy.
Suzuki made a noise of disgusted interest. There was a sudden influx of alpha hormones, and Ushijima wrinkled his nose in distaste. “It’s that slut,” Suzuki grunted. Ushijima felt his spine go ramrod straight. His movements stiffened and his face froze. He did not know if the expression he currently had was giving anything away. He hoped not. He did not want to start a fight if he could avoid it, but if he had to… “You know anything about her, Ushijima?”
“I’ve spoken with her,” he said tersely. “She is very kind and polite. I enjoy her conversation.”
“Her conversation, huh?” Suzuki laughed and it was a skeevy sound. Ushijima felt an uncomfortable sensation crawl up his spine at the noise. “Just that, eh?” He nudged Ushijima and did not seem to notice when the younger man attempted to move out of his range. Suzuki made a crude motion over the front of his chest. “Yeah, I enjoy her conversation too, alright. Very nice conversation. Really draws the eye.”
Ushijima did not move to respond or even make a noise to encourage this. He felt something bubble in his chest that he was not yet accustomed to. He had only felt it the one time it had overflowed, and that was the instance that caused the rift between himself and his family. He hoped he would not cause a scene here at work. He did not want to embarrass Kuma. She seemed to get enough disgusting words aimed at her. If he could protect her from at least this much, he would be happy.
“You know what she does for work?” Suzuki sneered.
“I do not think it is any of our business,” Ushijima said.
“It’s public, dude,” Suzuki said. “It’s everyone’s business.” He paused and shot a look at Ushijima. “She does porn.” He watched Ushijima for his reaction. None was forthcoming. Ushijima had not known that, but he was not disgusted. If that was what Suzuki had hoped to evoke, he would be sorely disappointed. “Like, I’ve watched some of it. Really good stuff. Omega revenge shit and humiliation.” Suzuki whistled under his breath. “Wish she’d let me do it to her. I’d show her where her place is.”
“This is inappropriate,” Ushijima said. His voice was harsher this time. He felt that unfamiliar anger spike in his gut. He clenched his hands in his lap and kept his gaze level and away from Suzuki. Do not look at this asshole’s face, or he might be tempted to punch it. “Please cease discussing it. This is not something we should talk about pertaining to a customer at our place of employment.”
“It’s not inappropriate,” Suzuki said. “If she didn’t want that kind of shit being said about her, maybe she shouldn’t have become a pornstar, dude. She willingly signed up for this shit. That’s on her. She should welcome this kind of interest. It’s better for her business or what the fuck ever.”
“Regardless of what she does for a living,” Ushijima replied, “it’s still inappropriate. Every person deserves respect. Her employment is not relevant to this discussion. Please drop the subject.”
Suzuki made an angrier noise this time. Ushijima still did not look around at him. He knew for certain now if he did he would throw the first punch. The sort of things he spewed out of his mouth were disgusting. Ushijima had never felt an immediate and visceral reaction to words before, but there was always a first time for everything. It was at this point that Ushijima began to wonder why Rite Aid employed mostly assholes. First there was Yuta on dayshift, who insisted on hiding the condoms and making it increasingly difficult for the public to be safe in their sexual lives. Ushijima did not think he could deal with this sort of bullshit.
“You’re such a fucking coward,” Suzuki said. “I’m saying what we’re both thinking, and you’re acting like you’re so much better than me.” Ushijima narrowed his eyes, but did not respond. “Fuck you. Whatever. I don’t have to listen to this shit. I’ll go sort things in the back. Let you play white knight to some diseased sex worker.”
Ushijima rose to his feet so suddenly that it startled Suzuki into silence. He very quietly and seriously spoke the next few words with intention, “The next words you speak will be your last as a Rite Aid employee. I will speak to the manager in the morning about your behavior, because surely it is not something corporate will smile upon.”
Suzuki glared at him. “Fuck you,” he said.
“You have already stated that,” Ushijima said. “Find a new comeback. Have a nice evening.” Suzuki made a noise of anger, but dropped the subject and stormed out from behind the counter. He disappeared into the back of the store. Ushijima watched him like a hawk to make sure he did not to attempt to seek out Kuma, but it seemed Suzuki had chosen to leave her alone. That was good. Ushijima had never punched a man before, but he felt like he might have beginner’s luck and break Suzuki’s nose.
It was several minutes later when Kuma approached the register. Her face was a little more tense than normal, but otherwise she did not comment on Suzuki or if she had heard their conversation. “How have you been?” Ushijima asked. He managed a smile that he actually felt as he looked at her. She glanced up at him and smiled back, a little on the small side but sweet nonetheless.
“I’ve been well,” she said. “My roommate has been a little under the weather, so I’m grabbing her medicine.” She waved toward the Dayquil and Nyquil combo pack she’d chosen. Off brand, of course. This was not the rich side of town where one could afford “designer” medicine.
“I’m sorry she is not feeling well,” Ushijima told Kuma. “You are fine?”
“Yes,” Kuma chirped. “I’m being careful so I don’t catch it too. We can’t both afford to be out of commission for the next few days!”
“Good,” Ushijima said. “I would be sad if you did not feel your best.” Ushijima wondered if he imagined the soft flush that came to Kikuchi’s cheeks. He wrote it off. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him this evening.
“How has university been?” Kuma asked when Ushijima was pressing the buttons to ring up her total. “You had a test two days ago, didn’t you? You said you were a little worried about it.”
“I passed,” he told her. He sighed a little. “I feel as if my grade was a little rough, but it was acceptable. I will have to try harder next time.”
“I believe in you,” Kuma told him warmly. Ushijima paused and then his chest constricted oddly. Or perhaps not to strangely, because he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it meant. He read out the total for the purchase and she handed over her debit card. There was silence for a few seconds as he finished the transaction and placed her receipt in her bag. When he handed it over, though, she gripped his hands and looked him dead in the eye. “Thank you,” she whispered. Ushijima had a moment of startled blankness as she turned and left the store, his eyes following her silently.
He realized a few moments after her departure that she must have heard Suzuki. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, ignored the shaking of his hands. It upset him that she had to put up with things like that on a daily basis. It upset him that there was nothing he could do to actively discourage it, besides try to cut it off at the pass, but…
His eyes opened slowly and he stared at the doors where she had left. He could not fix the world, or even every problem in her life, but he could stand behind her and support her. Yes, he decided. He could do that. He felt something solidify in his chest and he breathed in deep as it resolved itself into steady determination.
He knew what he had to do next time he saw Kuma.
Kuma was the one who surprised him next they met.
He had been in the back stocking toothpaste when he had heard the bell above the door ring. That alone did not startle him. People came in whenever he was around the store facing products or replenishing supplies. It was Kuma seeking him out that made him jump a little, because he had not expected it. Typically he was the one who first greeted her. It was his job, first, and then it became a pleasure to speak with her and he was always eager to begin a conversation.
“Hello, Ushijima,” Kikuchi greeted. He could already hear the smile in her voice before he even turned his head to look toward her. She bowed a little, and the grin on her lips lit up her entire face. Her eyes glowed merrily at him. Today must have been a good day for her. He was glad. He enjoyed watching her happiness the most, and it was always a treat to see her pleased.
“Good evening, Kikuchi,” he replied. “You may call me Wakatoshi if you would like.” He said it before he could think over the words. They actually made a flush come to his face. He had never been so forward before. He had never wanted someone to call him Wakatoshi before. Tendou had always done it without being asked, as his self appointed best friend, and no one else had ever dared. Even his family said it with an air of formality and aloofness that almost detached it from him on a personal level.
Kuma blinked owlishly at him, and then her face bloomed into an array of different shades of red. It was very endearing on her. Ushijima’s own face began to heat up. “O-Oh, Ushijima, I couldn’t--”
“Only if you feel comfortable doing so,” he assured her. “I would not want to-- if it makes you feel weird to do so, then by all means, do not feel pressured.”
Kuma glanced furtively about and then bit her lower lip, rolled it between her teeth a little before a shy smile started to spread on her lips. “Wakatoshi,” she breathed. Ushijima’s heart gave a feeble flutter in his chest. He did not think it possible to like her more than he did at this moment. He was sure he would be proven wrong as their knowledge of each other expanded, but currently… currently, he liked her so very much.
He nodded. “I would like that,” he told her. Best to be honest, he figured.
“You can…” Again, she glanced around as if to make sure no one would overhear. “You may call me Kuma if you would also like. I would enjoy it.” The color on her face deepened, but her eyes met his and they were steady.
“There is something else I would also like,” Ushijima told her. He felt bold. He felt like he could conquer the world so long as she continued to smile at him like that. “If you are amenable.”
“You have to tell me what it is to find that out,” she teased. The glint in her eyes was fond. It made Ushijima feel weak at the knees a little. This entire situation was so far out of his depth, but most shocking of all, he was not scared at all. He trusted Kuma to be kind to him even if the feelings were not mutual.
“Would you exchange phone numbers with me?” he asked. His voice was calm as he watched for her reaction. “I would-- nothing would please me more than to be able to take you out for coffee sometime. Or tea, if you should prefer that more.”
“Oh,” Kuma said. She blinked slowly a few times as she let these words sink in. It seemed to dawn on her all at once, and the blush was back full force. “Oh! You’re asking-- yes!” She said the last word in a rush, as if he might rescind his invitation or change his mind. “Yes! Ushijima-- Waka--” She looked around again. Perhaps she only wanted to use his first name in private? Something about that sent a shiver down his spine, but he ignored it for now. “Yes, I would love that. Very much. Yes.”
Ushijima’s stomach had butterflies in it. He had always scoffed at anyone who used that turn of phrase, but now he understood it all the more. “My phone is at the register,” he told her. “How about you gather what you need, and I meet you up there?”
“Yes!” she said. She beamed at him and nodded quickly. “Yes, I’ll-- I’ll do that. Be there soon.”
They parted ways and Ushijima put up the last of the toothpaste. He took a few steady, calming breaths before he headed to the front. Everything so far had gone better than he had dared to hope. His palms felt a bit sweaty, which had never happened before, but he supposed that was nerves. He had never truly been nervous about something before. He had never placed much thought to doubts or possible negative outcomes, and this was the first time he had not known how things would turn out. It was delightful to know everything had clicked together as easily as it had. His feelings, so far as he could tell, were not as one sided as he had worried.
Kuma approached the register only a few minutes later. “My number,” she said as she fumbled her phone out of her purse. “Let’s exchange it! So we don’t forget.” She laughed a little nervously, and her eyes darted up to meet his before they glanced away.
“That is a good idea,” he assured her. He handed his phone over so she could type her contact information in, and did the same in her phone. “There,” he said once her phone was back in her hands. “I’ll text you after shift? If you are still awake.”
“I will be,” she told him. “I stay up late.”
“Then I will text you after I get off work,” he told her. He rang up her items and kept sneaking glances at her. He felt as if he could not help himself. It was a foreign, but not unwelcome feeling. “I hope to see you again soon,” he told her after he handed her change and the bag to her.
She looked at him as her fingers brushed his own when she took her purchases. “I look forward to it,” she whispered. Her eyes were wide in her face, and her mouth was a little open, and then she seemed to snap herself back to her thoughts. “Talk to you soon.” She turned and left before he could say more.
He watched her go, and spent several moments caught up in his own thoughts. There was a warm, glowy sensation that suffused him and he caught himself smiling when he snapped back to reality. He picked his phone back up and opened up a new text message, “What day works best for you? I have all of Sundays off besides an evening shift. I look forward to taking you out somewhere nice soon.”
He had a very, very good feeling about this. He looked forward to seeing how it would go.
“Kenma,” Kuroo said as he lounged on the couch. His best friend was seated beside him and had allowed Kuroo to rest his head in his lap. Kenma hummed, but did not look up from his PSP. “Am I seeing things, or is Michi wearing one of my old Nekoma sweaters?”
Kenma glanced up at this and toward the kitchen, where their girlfriend was presently attempting to make brownies. He made a small noise of acknowledgement before he went back to his game. “She is,” he said.
Kuroo paused. “Why is she wearing my sweater?” Kuroo asked. “Doesn’t she normally wear… one of yours?” Kenma and Michi had been dating a lot longer. Kuroo had never seen her want to wear one of his shirts before. It was… endearing. Kuroo felt like he might melt any moment now.
“She wanted something larger,” Kenma mumbled, “and she said she wanted to smell like you.”
“Oh no,” Kuroo said quietly under his breath. “That’s cute.”
He definitely felt like he might die now. The things his heart was doing in his chest could not be healthy. It was all aflutter and he felt too light, his fingertips a little tingly. He needed to touch her. He managed to shuffle awkwardly out from under Kenma without too much jostling of his game. “Be right back,” he said as he got to his feet.
“Liar,” Kenma said, but it sounded fond. Kuroo ignored it. Kenma understood. He was constantly being cuddly and sweet with Michi. This time, this time it was Kuroo’s turn to be an unapologetic sap.
“Michi,” Kuroo whined as he entered the kitchen. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her back against his chest, nuzzling behind her ear and inhaling her sea-salt vanilla scent. “Are you trying to give me heart failure? You’re wearing my shirt and it’s so cute on you.”
Michi laughed and glanced over her shoulder. Kuroo fondly burrowed his nose more firmly into her red hair. “Do you want me to take it off?” she asked. Her voice sounded amused. Kuroo pulled back so he could look at her face. Yes, she was definitely humored by his reaction. “I like the way you smell,” she said. “It felt like a Kuroo day.”
“A Kuroo day,” he said, helpless for the wave of affection that welled up within him. “Can I kiss you? Stop making brownies for two seconds. If I don’t kiss you, that’s how I’m truly going to die.” He pulled her around so he could firmly press his lips to hers. “I need more,” he mumbled against them as she tried to pull back and laugh. “Michi, don’t be stingy. One more, one more--”
“It’s never just one more with you,” she told him sweetly, but she complied nonetheless.
“Keep the sweater,” Kuroo told her after a minute or two of short, happy kisses. “I think it looks better on you.”
Michi hummed. “I think you’re biased in that opinion.”
“Maybe,” Kuroo said. She tried to pull away to return to the brownies and Kuroo whined. “Not yet! My affection meter is only halfway filled, you know, don’t be so heartless.”
Michi playfully shoved him away. “If you don’t go, I won’t be able to finish these! Kenma wanted brownies! You can be the one to feel his wrath if they don’t get finished.”
Oikawa’s arrival is enough to jolt Michi out of the daze she herself has fallen in from making out with Iwaizumi. It also spears through Iwaizumi’s thick scents, because the arrival of Oikawa means that his alpha scents are striking in comparison. Sunflower and aloe blend in with Michi’s own vanilla, and Iwaizumi’s intoxicating peach and black currant, with undertones of lilac. Michi feels a little heady as she breathes it in deeply.
Tooru grips her neck even as he scents Iwaizumi, and she makes a low noise of arousal as he does so. Her pulse is beating hummingbird fast as she breathes deeply through her nose. She pants into Iwaizumi’s mouth as they kiss, and Iwaizumi’s whine vibrates against both of their lips. It’s now warm enough with all three of their bodies in bed, and Michi does not even notice that Iwaizumi’s apartment is a bit chilly. It is just the right temperature with all of them cozy in this bed.
Michiko is about to reply to Oikawa’s question-- he has just the hint of an alpha tone in his voice, and it makes something in her melt, want to please him-- when he leans forward and kisses her. She whimpers and sags against him, gives herself over to the kiss. There is a flutter of arousal when Iwaizumi groans next to them.
“He was so good,” Michi pants as they take turns kissing each other. “The perfect omega.” Because she knows, knows, how much those words do things to Iwaizumi. He moans helplessly as they leave her lips. “He does just what you ask him with only a little complaining.”
“Shuddup,” Iwaizumi grumbles. Michi laughs, light and breathy. She leans forward so she can nose at the hinge of his jaw while Tooru kisses him. His scent is even stronger here and she opens her mouth, darts out her tongue to lap at his skin. The reaction is instantaneous as Iwaizumi arches a little and whimpers.
“He only argued a little that his heat wasn’t really starting,” she tells Oikawa, like Iwaizumi isn’t melting in front of their eyes. He’s almost to the point where he will start begging soon. She knows that is what this is leading up to. Iwaizumi is a proud person, and it takes a bit before he’ll work himself into enough of a frenzy to ask for what he wants. Otherwise he will put it off and put it off, act like he does not need it even as his body cries out and begs.
“We could have waited longer,” Iwaizumi grumbles.
“You’ve been in preheat since I got here three hours ago,” she says and you can hear the eyeroll in her voice even without glancing at her face. “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. Preheat is the worst. You shouldn’t deny yourself, Hajime. It only makes things worse before you get relief, you know.”
Iwaizumi pulls back and glares at her, eyes a little hazy. “You’re one to talk,” he replies.
Michi laughs. “You haven’t even seen me in heat yet!” But he was right. They had spoke about it before. Michi is just as bad about denying her own heats. She has better things to be doing! “Anyway,” she slyly says and flashes a slanted look at Oikawa. “He’s giving in real fast, Tooru. I think we can allow him to get undressed, don’t you?”
Iwaizumi groans. “I can do it if I want to,” he says but makes no move to disrobe. They both look at Tooru. It’s his game now. He’s the alpha, and they’re the omegas who will listen to him. One of the few times Hajime will actually let Oikawa take the lead and trust him completely to know what to do.
The ride on the metro is uneventful for the most part. Ushijima keeps himself at an angle so that Kuma does not have to worry about anyone approaching them. His face is neutral, but he knows that his resting expression is typically more of a bitch face as Oikawa has so gleefully put it whenever possible. It means that there is even less of a chance that someone will try to speak to them. He keeps one arm around her shoulders, while the other rests easily on her hip, casually possessive. To any onlookers, it would appear they are a couple who is comfortable being so close to each other.
Ushijima’s heart is beating more rapidly than it typically does. His palms are just a tad sweaty. He feels as if he is about to play his first ever volleyball match, how he had felt all those years ago. He is nervous, he realizes. Something about this situation has set off his anxiety. He has not felt like this in so long. It’s odd to consider. Kuma is sweet and gentle. He has never been unsure around her. Something about their current predicament has made him feel as if their footing has been shifted, as if they are on a new playing field. Something is changing.
He hopes and prays that it will be for the better.
He follows her out of the train and the rest of the way to her flat after they disembark. Again, no one says anything to them or calls their names. They are left to their own devices. Ushijima is glad they are still small league in their volleyball. National teams have started to vye for his attention, but so far he is not ready to accept. He has to finish his graduate degree first. He is sure if he was better known they might have had people approach them. Small mercies, he supposes.
Kuma sounds upset as she disrobes. She is turned away from him, so Ushijima cannot get a clear view of what is going on. “Kuma?” Ushijima says. She sounds upset. He reaches out, but then has his hands fall away. He is unsure if he should touch her yet. She sounds unhappy. He does not know if his gesture would be accepted right now. “What’s the matter?”
There is a smell in the air that is tart and unknown. He has never smelled it before, he believes, but it is… or perhaps he has, but never up close. Kuma’s own scent is heavy now that they are back in her domain, and not out in the open. Honey and lemon, which has always had a comforting, intoxicating effect on Ushijima, and another scent that he cannot quite identify. He knows it is floral, and it is incredibly pleasing to the nose, but not the exact word for it. “Whatever it is,” he tells her in a soft, soothing voice, “there’s no need to be ashamed. Your body is doing things that you are not agreeable with, but that does not make it unnatural or disgusting. Whatever it is, why do we not see what can be done to alleviate some of your symptoms?”
She motions towards her chest and Ushijima can’t help that his eyes trail after the movement. He releases her only for a moment to shuffle out of his volleyball jacket and drape it over her, so that she can grip it and cover herself a little more securely. He is sure that it takes a lot out of her to think that someone else might see her this way. He does not want her to have to go through that if she does not have to. His hands go back to her, one wrapping around her shoulders and the other touching her hand gently as he takes the transit pass from her.
He ruminates on her words for a moment as they walk quickly to where they need to go. She needs to get it out, he reminds himself. Her words slowly circle around inside of his mind as they quietly keep pace together to their end destination. It takes perhaps a bit longer than it should for him to realize what this means.
He has to… help her relieve the pressure of the lactation.
Should he be ashamed that it sends heat swirling low in his gut at the very thought? He has never thought that he would be into something like this, but then again he has never pondered sexual urges too deeply to begin with. He finds them irksome unless he is close with the person, and therefore he does not have to deal with them very often. He would do anything for Kuma, he reasons, but this is still something that he-- he likes the idea of.
“I-- yes,” he tells her quietly. His voice drops several octaves and murmurs so that only she will hear him speaking. “Yes, Kikuchi, I can-- yes, I can help you get it out.” He swallows, hard. His mouth is suddenly as dry as a desert and his nerves are shuddering inside of him, pulled tight and trembling. He feels as if it is now hard to focus for the first time. Usually his attention is a ramrod, iron willed thing, but now he-- he feels as if he is being pulled in several different directions, each one better than the last.
“Once we get to your flat, we can figure out the best way to… to do things,” he says to her. “For now, I suppose we should tackle public transit and make sure you are well taken care of so that others will not think to pester you.” His jacket around her and his arm neatly curled over her shoulders should help with that. To anyone watching from the outside, his casual possessive gestures enough to stave off any unwanted advances.
Iwaizumi’s heats are a whole different beast from her own. While Michiko gets affectionate and clingy, Iwaizumi gets cranky and standoffish. She knows well enough about the cycle to not take offense whenever he snaps or gets huffy, his eyes a little narrow and his lips drawn into a fierce scowl. She understands that it’s the heat hormones going haywire and making him quickly cycle between emotions faster than he can keep up with, let alone anyone else around him.
Oikawa is protective and always ready to do whatever needs to be done-- for both of them, she notes, because of course she’s included as well. Iwaizumi holds her hand and stands closer to her, allows Oikawa to place his hands on his lower back (but nothing more, or else he’ll snap angrily over it).
It’s odd, to be so close to another omega about to go into heat. She’s dating them both, and now she’s allowed to be in the fold, to watch as it slowly escalates. She has yet to spend her own heat with either of them, but that was mostly because of timing and her last heat being skipped-- suppressants to make sure she didn’t miss out on a tap competition. She’s flattered and so happy that she can be with Iwaizumi for his own, at hand in case he should need her, in case either of them should have a want for her.
It’s very clear they have a want for her.
It still makes her all aflutter whenever she turns and catches one of them watching her without Michi having realizing it. Her heart clenches a little and she has to take a moment to blink away emotions she has no time for presently. Currently, Iwaizumi is curled around her in his bed, having texted her earlier demanding she come over if she has nothing else to do. She had brought over some homework and settled into his bed, bundled within blankets that smell like Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and a sweater of hers that she had just started to wonder where it had gone.
“It’s too hot,” Iwaizumi complains. He does not do it loudly, but instead mumbles it under his breath. Michi sticks her hand out from the blankets and tests the air. It’s definitely not hot, not even underneath the blankets. It’s winter right now, and Iwaizumi had not turned on the heater. He sighs and tosses about a little, his hands clutching her to his chest. “Michiko,” he whines.
Ah. The whining is what tips her off. “Hajime?” She leans over and he makes a disgruntled noise as she nearly pulls out of his arms. “Hold on, let me--” and she tosses her books to the floor, reaches further for the bedside table to grab Iwaizumi’s phone. Her own is in her jacket pocket over near his desk, and she does not think he’ll relinquish her long enough to retrieve it. “We need to text Tooru.”
“Why?” Hajime mumbles against her neck. She hadn’t even noticed he’d scooted forward and buried his face there, nosing up to behind her ear and scenting her. She’s not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it. He doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s about to go into heat either. It’s probably because his body is ramping up and he’s too overheated to pay attention just yet.
“Your heat,” Michi tells him lightly as she taps in his code for him. “Here. Text our silly alpha. He needs to get over here.”
“It’s not starting,” Iwaizumi states firmly. Michi squirms until she can twist around and grip his face between her hands, so their eyes can meet and she can stare firmly back at him. “It’s… not…” His eyes go a little distant as he seems to take stock of himself. She can feel his legs against her own as he rubs them a little and his breath hitches. “Oh,” he says.
“Yes,” she states. “Oh. Text Tooru or else I’m going to tell him you’re whining for him already! You know he’ll eat that up.”
Iwaizumi glares at her. He even looks a little disgruntled at the prospect. Ah, she should try to remember he does not respond to jokes as well as normal when he’s like this. She smiles and leans forward, rubs her nose against his. “This is my second time with you, Hajime,” she tells him, “and we both know you want him here as fiercely as you want me. So text him, or I will if you’d like.”
He looks down at his phone with a put upon scowl and his fingers tap over the screen as he sends a quick text to their group chat. She can tell, because she hears her phone ding from across the room. “There,” he tells her and lets the phone fall between them onto the bed. “Happy now?”
She smiles sweely and leans forward, nuzzles her nose against his jaw and hums. “Yes,” she tells him. “I’m so proud of you, Hajime, what a good omega you are.”
He groans helplessly and his hands fly to her hips. “Fuck you,” he gasps, because he knows she realizes what those words are doing to him.
“I rather think you’d like to wait for Tooru for that, hm?” Michi laughs at the glare he shoots her way at the words. “Don’t worry! Knowing him, he’s already running out of his apartment and will be here soon. Come here, come here, squeeze on up to me. We can kiss a little to distract you. You’re probably starting to feel achy, right? Hajime, come kiss me, please, you’re so good at it.”
Hajime did as he was told with only minimal grumbling.
“I thought you were on suppressants?” (A/B/O starters; perfect one for Kuma~ let's say... noya and kuma? or you can do all 3, WHATEVER FLOATS YOUR BOAT!)
He’s blown away by how she lets herself go. Her hips rock against his face as she cums and he can feel the muscles inside of her contracting and spasming, taste it as slick slides into his mouth freely and he groans himself with the pleasure of being the one who did that to her. After she stops shaking and removes herself from his face, he pants into the now open air and groans. “God,” he rasps. “You taste so good, Kuma.” The admission is blunt and honest. Of course he would not dance around this. It’s what he thinks, and he wants her to know it.
Noya laughs. “You think so?” he asks her. His grin is bright and cheerful as he turns so he can face her. Their heads are close, but not quite sharing the same pillow. His hands reach out and he traces gently against her arm, smoothing over the skin there and drawing patterns. “That was my first time doing it,” he admits. He’s thought about it a lot, and he’s seen porn. He figured as long as he went about it with the normal amount of energy he’d do alright. It feels good to know he was right!
“I really wanna do it again sometime,” he admits and his eyes meet hers with only a little shyness. “If you want. When you’re not in heat. I’d like to do this again.” He shrugs a little, but the movement is a bit awkward since he’s laying on his side. “Since I like you and all.” He can feel the flush in his cheeks, but he grins through his embarrassment. It’s the truth so he needs her to know! “Also, I feel like I could go down on you for hours, Kuma, if you let me.” He laughs and squirms a little, ignores the throbbing in his groin at the idea of taking her apart again and again, for hours at a time. They have plenty of time for that another night if Kuma ever feels up to it. He knows not everyone can go so many times in a short span of time.
Noya’s breath hitches as she touches him. He groans before he can bite down on it, and then his teeth do sink into his lower lip to the point of pain. God, her fingers around him feel so heavenly. He wants to float away to the feeling of her stroking him and curiously learning everything he likes. “Take as much time as you need,” he pants as she strokes him. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither is… ahhh, neither is my dick, I promise.” He flashes her a teasing smile as he mumbles the last words, and then groans again at the friction she’s providing with her hand.
My muse is touch starved, send one for your muse to-
❤️ - Hug my muse from behind
👏 - Ruffle my muse’s hair
✋️ - Hold my muse’s hand
💪 - Pick my muse up
👆- playfully poke my muse
✍️ - Write something on my muse
💋 - Kiss my muse on the cheek
😏 - Playfully headbutt my muse
😝 - Lick my muse
😙 - Cover my muse in multiple kisses
🖐 - Give my muse a backrub
💤 - Cuddle up to my muse
😶 - Quietly lean against my muse
👃- Boop my muse on the nose
✊️- Playfully punch my muse
🙌 - Playfully shove my muse
😖 - Bury their face in my muse’s chest
I’ve made this mess, so I can clean it up myself, she had said and Ushijima furrows his brows a little. Something in that sentiment rings harshly within him and he feels his heart tug toward the omega next to him. His hand is still softly on her lower back to guide her as they walk across campus, and he chances a quick look at her face to gauge her emotions. He is not the best at reading people. He has been told many times this particular skill requires work and honing, but. There is something there, maybe in the edges of her eyes, that makes him want to help her even more. She does not have to do this alone. How does he let her know that he wants to help her, and it is not a burden on him to do so?
“It is no problem,” he assures her when she thanks him. He has to find a way to fumble through this sentiment. He is so bad with words. Mostly he makes people uncomfortable or he says something he does not realize is antagonistic. That has never happened with Kuma however, he reasons. She has always had the ability to decipher the meaning behind his words, even when they are a bit blunt and borderline rude. “Kikuchi,” he says as they leave campus. He has let the silence stretch between them until it is taut and quivering, something that he snaps because he knows he needs to say something and is still not sure how to word it.
He stops again and weighs his words. “I feel like I should make you aware that, whatever you require of me to help you, it would not...” He hums to himself as he thinks about the next word. “It would not be irksome. To be quite honest, I would be amenable to helping you in whatever way you require.”
“Is your flat far from campus?” he asks her after he has made up his mind. If she truly does not want him to help, he will leave her, but he cannot let her labor under the assumption that she would be an annoyance or a burden. It is imperative to him that she knows how much he does care for her and would welcome any way of being there for her. It would not be a chore. If anything, Ushijima would welcome it as an honor of her trust and warm regards for him. Perhaps she feels similarly to how he does for her? It is just something he has been starting to let trickle into his daily life, but he is fine with pursuing something more if she is. “We can take the train, a cab, or walk, whichever would be easiest. I do not mind. I have enough money on myself today that we may take a cab if that would be the most comfortable option for you.”
oikawa comes home to a pleasant surprise after a long, hard day at two of his three part time jobs...
Oikawa has wanted to go home since he first walked into his morning shift at the cafe today. Of course, his life is no longer easy and idyllic, like it had been in his school days, so he grit his teeth and forced his way through it. He did the same at his second shift at the sporting goods store: smiled at each customer and made pleasant, idle conversation as they pondered their choices of athletic shoes. The whole time, however, in the back of his head, he chanted over how he wanted to go home. He did not want to be here.
His knee ached fiercely. He had a creeping suspicion that his painkillers might be getting less effective, probably because he took too many of them every single day. He was growing a tolerance for them. He feared the day that they no longer worked how they needed to, because that meant he had to try and find another solution, another alternative that wouldn’t eat away at what little wiggle room in their budget they had.
Was he ever like the spoiled rich kids that wandered into the store, the ones who sneered at his suggestions for sports clothes or shoes? Was he like the mothers who trailed along behind them and raised doubtful brows at whatever Oikawa had to say? It was lucky he still had his looks, or else he was sure there would be more outright rude customers. He still had his charm and his warm smile, the way his eyes crinkled whenever he sweetly answered their questions. He still had something to help him through each shift. It was what made him extra tips at the cafe.
When he gets home, he just wants to lay down on the couch and melodramatically whine to Iwaizumi about his day. Iwaizumi, being Iwaizumi, would probably knock him against the head and grumble about how dumb Oikawa was, but it was always said with an air of warmth underneath it. The fondness of his omega always made his heart flutter, no matter how many days passed that reminded him they were together and at least they had each other. It was even nicer whenever he came home to Michi being there as well.
Today was one of those days. As soon as he opened the door and took off his coat, he noticed that she had already hung her own up and her shoes were neatly placed next to Iwaizumi’s. Oikawa beamed. He might be tired and felt scraped empty, but he always had more to give when it came to his omegas. “I’m home,” he called in a tired, yet happy voice. He was about to see his two most favorite people, so of course he was feeling a little better at the prospect. He toed off his own shoes and took a little too long nudging them next to Michi’s, admiring the way it looked to see all three of their belongings in a neat, even row.
He locked the door and stepped further into the apartment, and then he… froze. There was a cloying scent in the air, of arousal and desire, and it tickled at Oikawa’s nose. He tilted his face up and sniffed a little, let the smell linger in his senses as warmth pooled low in his stomach. He could identify who’s it was, too, because it was sweeter than Iwa’s was, a cloying, vanilla smell that airly breezed about the apartment. Iwaizumi’s was always deeper, muskier.
Oikawa’s feet took him down the hallway. He ignored his knee as it screamed at him. He had better things to be thinking about anyway. He stopped in the doorway of his bedroom with Iwaizumi and was frozen in place, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. His lips tilted downward in a pout without much thought. “You started without me?” he asked and his tongue poked out, dragged over his suddenly chapped lips.
Iwaizumi looked over toward the door and smirked, eyes dark and deep. “I told her she couldn’t cum until you got home and knotted her,” he rasped. Michi made a little choking sob at the words and Oikawa could see she was trying to roll into the thrusts Iwaizumi was giving her, but Hajime had his hands clasping her hips, pinning her effectively to the bed and refusing to let her seek pleasure without his permission. Oikawa’s throat was too dry to speak. He swallowed several times, but the problem did not alleviate. “I might have promised that she could sit on her alpha’s knot once he got home.”
“I… I see,” Oikawa mumbled. It was the only thing he could see. He was a little dizzy. Arousal had flooded him so quickly it was like a sudden contact high. Michi’s scent was so addictive. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, allowed the smell to stay in his lungs a beat too long as if he could pick apart each element of it and cherish it deeper. Oikawa opened his eyes slowly and his smile sliced across his face, filthy and just a little cruel. If Michi thought he was going to go easy on her, she had another thing coming. He felt like drawing it out too. “I wouldn’t want to make you a liar, Iwa.”
Iwaizumi coughed out a laugh. His eyes danced with private glee. He sharply snapped his hips forward and slammed himself in Michi’s body, and they both took a moment to enjoy the noise of desperation she made at the contact. “Please,” she begged. Oikawa watched as her fingers scrabbled across the sheets, as she tried to move but was held down. She moved her face restlessly and turned, so that her eyes could meet Oikawa’s for the first time. They were blown apart, wide and turned on, as they met. Oikawa licked his lips again. He felt like he might come apart at the seams any moment now, and he hadn’t even taken off his clothes, he hadn’t even touched either of them yet. “Tooru,” she pleaded, “please, please, I want to cum--”
Iwaizumi cut her off with another thrust, this one slow but deep, hard. It made a noise burble out of her that was raw and desperate. Her fingers clenched in the sheets again, and if they weren’t careful she was going to tear it. Oikawa kind of wanted her to rip them apart. He wanted to watch her fly over the edge and be helpless against the pleasure. More than that, he wanted to be the one to push her to that point.
Oikawa reached up and started to unbutton his stuffy, uncomfortable shirt. He didn’t take his eyes off either of his omegas. Iwaizumi dragged his eyes back over to the door and smirked as he watched Oikawa undress. “Better hurry up,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m going to cum,” and his voice was strained, almost to the breaking point. How had Oikawa not noticed the way his lashes fluttered prettily over his eyes? How his throat bobbed with each desperate gasp for breath? He knew those tells. He knew Iwaizumi better than his own body, most days. Iwaizumi’s body never betrayed him, after all.
The taller man scrabbled at his pants and chucked them and his underwear off in one go. His socks were next. He violently tossed everything aside and kicked it too, for good measure, before he rushed to clamber onto the bed. His hands reached for Iwaizumi first. “You’re so good,” he cooed into his ear, proud and pleased all at once. “You held her on the edge for so long, you kept yourself from cumming until your alpha got home,” and Iwaizumi was the one, this time, to make a tiny, choked off noise of desperation. He was so close. Now that Oikawa was right up against him, folding his arms around behind him and pulling him back against his chest, but still letting him plow into Michi, Oikawa could feel the way he trembled. “What a good omega. You’re both so perfect for me. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
His knee throbbed again to remind him he couldn’t stay like this, on his knees behind his lovers, and that he needed to lay down, but again he ignored it. He wanted this, with a need that almost bordered on frantic. “Tooru,” Michi cooed. He looked over Iwaizumi’s shoulder to see her glancing behind her, as Iwaizumi took her from behind, and their eyes met. “Tooru, Tooru,” and she was just chanting his name now, her voice cracking with each harsh thrust Iwaizumi pushed into her body. She shuddered and Iwaizumi mimicked the motion. The dark haired male growled and slammed in, one last time, before he came. He trembled in Oikawa’s hold and his skin was on fire, so hot Oikawa was worried Iwaizumi might burn up before the aftershocks had even begun.
Iwaizumi slumped a little in Oikawa’s hold. Oikawa praised him softly in his ear, helped to ease him over to Michi’s other side. Iwaizumi gasped and quacked, his body wracked with pleasure still. Michi made a noise of surprise as Oikawa reached down and grasped her, flipped her over so she was on her back now and staring up at him. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to watch as he took her apart. They should probably swap positions and he should let her ride him, but then she would be calling more of the shots. He wanted to be the one to do this. He wanted to be the one who told her just how she was allowed to come apart.
He doesn’t even have to prepare her. She’s slick with Iwaizumi’s cum and her own slick. He sinks into her with no resistance, and he moans gutturally as he bottoms out. She’s so wet. Oikawa shudders as he thinks about what she’ll be like after, once he’s cum in her too. He thinks about how his orgasm and Iwaizumi’s will mix inside of her and drip out, slowly, from between her legs. Wonders if he can convince Iwaizumi to go down on her after, like he likes to do after Oikawa’s shot off and Iwaizumi says he wants to clean Michi up. God, it’s the hottest thing Oikawa has ever seen.
He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve them, but he’ll do whatever he can to keep them. He’ll do anything.
He starts moving right away. He’s only just shown up, and he already feels like he’s on a thin line between cumming too soon and not soon enough. His entire body shakes with each thrust he slams into her. Michi reaches up and her eyes are half lidded, hazy. She sinks her fingers into his hair and hangs on, her mouth open so that each shuddery sigh spills from her without interference. He stares down at her as he fucks her, as he takes what he wants and gives her something in return. She arches up into him and her breasts are red and sore, nipples peaked. Iwaizumi must have sucked on them for ages before he finally fucked her. Oikawa wishes he had been here to watch. He loves to watch them. Iwaizumi is a mean bastard when he wants to tease you. He can go for hours without shooting off until he wants to, he knows just how to toy with you to make sure you can’t cum until he tells you that you’re allowed.
His knot is growing. He can feel it each time he thrusts back into Michiko. It’s starting to swell and catch at her cunt each time he sinks back into her. She’s sobbing and pleading again, eyes dazed and frenzied. He wants to give it to her. “I want it,” she tells him, hiccuping and clenching her fingers tight in his hair. “Give it to me, please, please, alpha, I want it, knot me, knot me,” and she’s so beautiful, spread out like this for him and Iwaizumi, begging for their permission to cum, for Oikawa to shove his knot as far into her as it will go and tie them together.
“Not yet,” he gasps. His knee is pure agony, but he ignores it, digs both of them into the sheets and fucks her harder. He rolls his hips with a force that shoves Michi up the bed a little more each time, makes her take it and like it. Her legs wrap around his waist and one hand drops to his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin to tether them more firmly together. “Not yet, not until--” He looks to the side and finds Iwaizumi watching them, his eyes darting back and forth between Oikawa’s face and then Michi’s. “Iwa,” he pleads. Iwaizumi slithers closer across the sheets, reaches a hand down and flicks against Michi’s clit.
Michi’s walls spasm around Oikawa’s cock. He makes a noise as if he’s dying. He might be. He could be dying right now, or already dead and in heaven. This would be his afterlife. An existence where all he has and all he thinks about is fucking his omegas until none of them can think because they are just a bundle of nerves and pleasure. If it was truly heaven, though, he knows Michi would have Kenma here too, and since he’s not, that means--
“Knot her,” Iwaizumi commands. His voice is firm and his eyes are fever bright as they stare into Oikawa’s. Oikawa whines. His knot throbs with each beat of his heart and thrust into Michi’s welcoming warmth. “Did you hear me, Tooru?” God, why does he only call him that when Oikawa is crying or in the middle of sex? He knows it does things to him. He knows Oikawa is weak to it. “I told you to knot her,” and so Oikawa does, with a desperate keening noise as he cums.
Michi’s nails are on his back now and tearing long, red lines downward. She arches against him and the sweat against her skin helps them to slide against each other. She’s practically screaming as his knot swelled within her. She wants to cum so bad, her eyes are filled with desperate tears and her face is screwed up with effort. Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi quickly rubbing at her clit. “You next,” Iwaizumi tells her, and that’s it. That’s all it takes. Michi arches one last time and cums, spasming around Oikawa and his cock, his knot, and milking him. He can feel his dick pulsing deep in her, and he moans feebly as he collapses atop her.
They stay like that for a long time. Oikawa pants and whimpers, his body quacking with aftershocks. His brain has melted out of his ears. He’s no longer a person, but just a bag of emotions and nerves. He does not think he will ever be able to scrape himself back together again. He’ll have to quit all of his jobs and just stay here, in the warm tangle of Michi and Iwaizumi’s arms.
Iwaizumi scoots closer, wraps his arms around both of them and pulls them against him. Oikawa thrusts a little, because Michi is still clenching around his cock, but softer and slower. It drags more sensation out of him that almost borders on pain. “God,” Oikawa rasps. He feels as if he might really die and find out what his version of heaven is afterall. “God,” he repeats with more feeling this time. “I’m going to die.”
“Good way to go,” Michi says, the first coherent thing she has uttered since Oikawa stumbled upon them. It’ll be at least another ten minutes before his knot starts to go down and they can detach. Oikawa sighs against her neck and nuzzles it, settles in for the long haul. He stubbornly ignores the way his knee is screaming at him. It’s going to be even angrier than usual once he’s able to roll off Michi, and stare up at the ceiling. He’s going to have to take more painkillers, when normally a hot and cold press and rest makes it settle down a little at night.
It was worth it, he thinks idly.
“I just have to reheat dinner,” Iwaizumi murmurs against Oikawa’s shoulder. He has tucked his head down against his sweat slicked skin and his lips touch Tooru each time he utters a word. “Should I go start that?”
“No,” Oikawa says, a little too quick. His day only just started to look a little brighter. He doesn’t want to let this go yet. “Stay for a little longer. At least until my knot goes down?”
“Mmm,” Iwaizumi hums. He stays. Oikawa smiles and turns his head, nuzzles against the side of Iwaizumi’s face.
“So good,” Oikawa tells him warmly. “My Iwa.” Oikawa turns and presses a smacking kiss to Michi’s mouth. He loves them. He loves them so much.
