Chapter Text
Megumi finds the hoodie in his college library. It’s late, really late. Almost closing time. He’s been studying for hours, the minutes having slipped by like water drops off a leaf: slowly, and then all at once. The automatic lights spanning the floor have all turned off bar the spotlight above his head, which had been kept on by the occasional wave of a hand while he worked. Now, as Megumi makes his way to the stairs, the others begrudgingly flicker on too.
The hoodie is in a dead zone, an area that’s been dark for hours, lying in wait in Megumi’s path. He pauses when he sees it. It’s egg yolk yellow, bordering on mustard. Megumi reckons its owner is out partying; it’s a Friday night, after all. Megumi could leave it—the cleaners will probably pick it up—but his conscience doesn’t allow him to simply walk by. So, sighing, he moves towards it. He can hand it in to the front desk, earn some good karma.
Except the moment he picks it up, he’s hit with lightheadedness. It’s as though Alice in Wonderland’s Caterpillar has blown smoke rings at his face: the effect is instantly inebriating. Gasping, Megumi clutches at a nearby chair, legs nearly giving out beneath him, weak like jelly as he’s overcome with a flood of heat that feels like liquid gold oozing through his veins.
The library’s near-clinical lights, so garish before, now sparkle and shine to Megumi, who feels euphorically happy. Head spinning, he takes a deep breath, which only makes things worse—or better, depending on how you look at it. Everything is soft, everything is good. Megumi feels warm, like a biscuit submerged in buttermilk, safe in a way he only ever feels like when he’s swaddled in blankets in his nest.
Through the haze addling his senses, Megumi forms a single coherent thought: the hoodie. It must be the hoodie.
Despite the comforting fog in his mind, Megumi deduces that the item in his hands must be owned by a powerful alpha. His alpha, he thinks.
Sighing blissfully, Megumi sinks to the floor—he has ten minutes until the library closes, he can afford to indulge. Pressing the yellow fabric to his face, he inhales its intoxicating aroma, drowning in its heady scent. Blood orange and seasalt, burnished maple and oakwood. It’s heavenly. Megumi has never smelled anything like it before. Divine and comforting—the hoodie makes Megumi feel protected. He instinctively trusts its owner, knowing in his bones that they’re good. Loyal. Strong.
“Alpha,” he murmurs into its soft folds, nuzzling closer and inhaling deeply. “Alpha.”
Suddenly, the lights switch off, plunging Megumi into darkness. With a startled gasp, he sits up, clutching the hoodie to his chest.
The lights come back on and Megumi makes a decision. He unzips his backpack, rearranging his books to make room for the hoodie. Logically, he knows this is wrong, but his instincts tell him he has to. A strange feeling has taken hold of him—whoever owns this hoodie owns him too, Megumi can feel it. They may not have met yet, but he’s certain that whenever they do, his alpha will forgive him for taking his clothes. Maybe even reward him.
As he walks home, all Megumi can think about is the hoodie’s scent, and by extension, the alpha it must belong to. The instant he enters his apartment he rips his bag open, tearing the item out. Groaning, he shoves his face into its bright material, gasping as he’s hit with his alpha’s heady smell.
Kicking his door shut behind him, Megumi goes to his room. Sinking into his mattress, he dives into the exhilarating, immersive sensation of breathing in his alpha’s scent. Megumi knows that his alpha is gentle, caring and strong. That he’ll cherish, look after, and protect him always. A rich feeling of pleasure clouds his mind, rushing through his airways and permeating his blood until his entire being melts with desire.
Megumi’s innate desire to be claimed, which normally bothers him, croons in contentment for the first time in his life. He wants his alpha more than anything. Whimpering, Megumi buries his face deeper into the sunshine fabric. He needs… more. To be held, touched, marked. He aches to hear his alpha’s voice, to know what he looks like. To feel the scrape of his teeth on his nape and the swell of his knot in his hole.
“Ohh,” Megumi releases a long, drawn out groan, flushing hot at the thought of being knotted. He’s never been knotted before, never even had sex—no alpha has ever tempted him. But now, face stuffed into a stranger’s hoodie, Megumi knows he would give everything of himself to this alpha in a heartbeat.
“Fuck,” he groans, delirious with need, revelling in the way the world spins on its axis when he inhales extra deeply. “Ohh, fuck.”
He’s on suppressants, but even so, the more he breathes the warmer he feels. Flushed pleasantly from head to toe, intense heat kindles in his stomach. Letting himself go, Megumi surrenders to his base desires, overwhelmed with animalistic want. Finally giving in to his omega, Megumi’s hole quivers, honeyed slick slipping out, staining the fabric of his underwear. His small cock fattens and his balls ache, a violent craving to be touched and fucked and filled taking over his body. He feels so empty; why is he so empty?
Still fully clothed, Megumi bundles the hoodie into a ball. Rolling onto his stomach, he shoves the item beneath him, sandwiching it between him and the bed. Grunting softly, he mounts it, closing his eyes and groaning in pleasure as heat sweeps from his little omega cock to his cunt, which is rapidly oozing slick. Blind with heat and arousal, Megumi fucks down harder, faster, panting desperately. His needy pheromones fill the room and slick gushes liberally from his trembling hole, drenching through his clothes all the way to his jeans. But he doesn’t notice. Doesn’t care. Doesn’t think about anything other than being good for his alpha.
“Please,” he begs the silence of his room. “Please.”
He wants his alpha to help him, to fill him up. His grunts of frustrated pleasure climb steadily higher, increasing in volume and pitch, cunt clenching around nothing, fluttering in agony, painfully empty as its left unfilled.
“Ah—” Megumi can bear it no longer. Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, he presents his ass to the air, pulling his layers off just enough to expose the swell of his cheeks. Groaning lewdly, he immediately sinks two fingers inside his own tight heat. It feels like dunking his hand in warm jam.
“Fu-uck.”
Rutting downwards, Megumi scissors himself, gasping for breath. Light explodes behind his eyelids, bright as his alpha’s hoodie. Bliss rockets outwards from his cunt, which trembles as he gushes slick all over his hand. Shaking head to toe with the force of his orgasm, his cock twitches, spilling milky cum.
Once his breathing has evened out and the aftershocks of his climax have faded, Megumi rolls onto his side. Pulling the hoodie back up to his face, he inhales deeply, sighing in dreamy contentment.
He falls asleep like that, dirty with his own juices and cum, sated and smiling.
…
The following day, Megumi returns to that same spot in the library. He doesn’t realise that he’s heading there until he finds himself sitting at the table where he found the hoodie. Staring vacantly at the desk, he wonders what’s happening: why his body led him here; why he feels such a strong, innate need to return to his alpha’s table.
But that’s the answer, isn’t it? It’s his alpha. Megumi knew it the moment he touched that yellow fabric—something binds them, a force stronger than gravity. He and this alpha are destined to be together, as sure as the earth is to turn.
Megumi frowns, pursing his lips. It’s… strange. He’s always prided himself on his independence. Not only has he never felt the desire to find an alpha, but he’s also never felt the urge to submit to one, either. Not even those whose smell he finds pleasant. What makes this one different?
Opening his laptop, Megumi decides to do some research. His body is acting on its own and he wants to understand why.
His first few attempts yield no satisfying results; he mostly finds articles titled something like ‘how to be the most dominant alpha in a room’ or ‘top ten ways to make an alpha fall for you’. Just as he’s about to give up, something catches his eye. It’s a scientific study on scent compatibility. It addresses how scents work in alphas and omegas, as well as discussing key exceptions to the rules, which usually means betas. However, one word stands out among the rest: soulmate.
So rare they’re almost mythical, soulmates are virtually unheard of in the modern world. Growing up, Megumi remembers classmates talking about them as though they were fairies, some believed, others didn’t. But even among those who dismissed the idea of a bond so strong it was written in the stars, every alpha and omega secretly wanted it to happen to them. A bond so powerful, consecrated by the very universe. For a time, it was all anyone talked about—anyone except for Megumi, who never gave it a second thought.
Until now.
He recalibrates his search, focusing on the soulmate phenomenon. The logical part of Megumi’s brain doesn’t believe that this is his answer: not only does he not need a soulmate, but he also isn’t vain enough to presume that he might be the one in several million to have a predestined partner. The odds are stacked so heavily against him, it would be pure vanity to think it was real.
And yet. Everything he’s reading fits.
A scent so strong it’s like a sledgehammer forged of love. Impulses, inexplicable and overwhelming, overriding all sense and reason. A binding, elemental urge to join. Find one another. To solidify that connection, one which supersedes everything else.
Soulmates. They’re soulmates. They have to be.
Megumi stares at his screen for a full ten minutes before closing his tabs. Shaking his head, he decides to work, opening his books in the hopes that they’ll swallow him up. And they do—but the word still rings like a bell at the back of his mind, an echo of a thought so bright and clear that no matter how much he tries he just can’t clear it.
Megumi doesn’t need a soulmate. He’s reading into things too much. And yet the next day he finds himself back at that same table again. And again. Day in, day out. Megumi convinces himself that he’s returning out of curiosity. Besides, despite having never wanted a mate before, he’s not stubborn enough to deny himself something that feels so right.
Irrespective of whether or not this alpha is his soulmate, they’re compatible. And sating that curiosity is a good enough reason to keep coming. That’s all.
But Megumi doesn’t find him. He becomes a regular at the table where he first found the item, without even once meeting its owner. As the scent on the hoodie gradually fades, so too does Megumi’s conviction that they’ll find each other. The days wear on like rusting gears and Megumi’s chest tightens like a wind-up clock, his mood darkening as each new dawn yields no results.
“Remember my friend Yuuta?” Maki asks him one day while they’re studying at what has become his spot. Megumi nods, jiggling his knee and tapping his pencil against the desk. “Well,” Maki continues, glancing at her girlfriend, Nobara, who’s sitting on Megumi’s right. “He’s playing with a couple of friends in a local bar tonight. They’re part of a live music evening. It’ll be cool. You should come.” She looks pointedly at her girlfriend for support. “Right, Nobara?”
“Don’t come,” Nobara says without looking up. “You’ll bring that black cloud that follows you around and ruin our good vibes.”
Maki presses her lips together. A solid thud sounds from beneath the table.
“Fuck,” Nobara hisses, wincing. “Fine.” She turns to Megumi. Placing both hands on his shoulders, she looks him dead in the eye. “You simply have to come with us. Not only do I desperately want you there, but if you don’t come, we’ll be forced to think of dreadful repercussions. And although I don’t know what those repercussions will be just yet, I promise you they’ll be nasty as fuck.” She clears her throat. Speaking with faux brightness, she concludes: “But the most important thing is that we really want you there!”
The moment she’s done, her face returns to its typical unimpressed look. Shooting Maki a glare, she gets back to work.
“So there you have it!” Maki says with a smile. “Come with us tonight, or else.”
Megumi clenches his jaw, but he nods. He knows, reasonably, that he shouldn’t be spending every waking hour at this table. He’s fallen into a pattern and it’s making him miserable—he needs to get out and do something different.
They’ll find each other eventually. They have to.