Chapter Text
"Hinata, I'm begging you," Kiyoomi pleaded, doing his best impression of someone asking a coworker for a favor, even trying at some puppy dog eyes. Judging from the way Hinata jumped at the sight, his attempt at looking pathetic and endearing was failing.
"Volts, you’re scary," Hinata said. "Look, I'd love to help you out. Well, love is a strong word. Because you know who I love, since I'm—"
"Newly mated," Kiyoomi finished with a grumble, trying to cut Hinata off before he had a chance to unzip his jumpsuit and display the tiny marks his Omega had given him. He was too late. Hinata had already brandished them, a proud parent showing off their ragged tooth-mark baby. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. At least Hinata was an Alpha. If he’d been an Omega, the sight of the claiming mark would have sucked him down into a whirlpool of disgust.
"You know Tobio is possessive on a good day," Hinata sighed wistfully, running his thumb along the almost-healed scars. "And if I came home smelling like another Omega, he'd tear my throat out. Actually, yours," he amended, furrowing his brow. "Yeah, most definitely yours."
Kiyoomi put his forearms on the lunch table. He dropped his forehead with a thud, making a broken sound that was something between a growl of frustration and a choked sob. Hinata hadn't been his first choice. Or his fifth. He'd even called up some of his friends from high school. He’d struck out. None of the Alphas he knew were available or unmated. He needed an Alpha for his date to be convincing, so he could fool his parents. They’d see right through a casual acquaintance, or a Beta covered in Alphan pheromones he’d bought at the local heat supply shop.
It was his own fault, for being thirty years old and thinking it was acceptable to be unmated. He had never been interested in any of it, interested in debasing himself by chasing after someone. He was especially not interested in knot-headed Alphas. All any of them wanted was for Kiyoomi to live up to the Sakusas’ high-class reputation, and be a perfect little purebred Omega, submissive and subservient.
Kiyoomi wasn’t either of those things. Instead, he was the head of hydroelectric power at Musubi Public Works, and an incredibly talented water-weaver. Kiyoomi's water collection and deployment capabilities guaranteed an endless supply of raw materials for their systems. Hinata’s flawless flame-throwing made him a perfect partner, and their precise teamwork ensured their department was always in the top two when it came to production numbers.
He'd like to be number one always, but he had a fierce rival in the raw electricity department, which was headed by the most annoying person Kiyoomi had ever had the displeasure to meet.
Amp it all, here he was now, sauntering in like he owned the place, his work partner in tow.
Atsumu Miya, lightning arcer and genuine pain in the ass. Not because he was shocking. No, because he was full of himself.
Kiyoomi ignored the small voice that piped up in his brain, which informed him that Miya had every right to be proud of his record, considering the two departments were leapfrogging each other for first place on a weekly, sometimes daily basis.
"Omi!" Miya called from the other side of the room, even as Ojiro greeted them with a more polite, "Sakusa, Hinata."
Kiyoomi watched in horror as Miya took a seat at his table, directly across from him.
"That's not my name, Miya," he sputtered, already thrown off balance by the greeting and the intrusion of his personal space.
"I'll call you your name once you call me mine," Miya singsonged, the line worn out with repetition. He'd asked Kiyoomi to call him Atsumu the day they'd met, three years ago. Kiyoomi had refused. In retaliation, Atsumu had dubbed him "Omi."
"No," Kiyoomi snarled. Miya smiled, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
"Got any plans for the holidays?" Hinata chirped, cheerfully oblivious in the face of Kiyoomi’s annoyance. Or maybe he didn't care. He and Miya and Ojiro were friends, after all, heading out for a drink together after work sometimes.
"Gonna go with Shin back to his parents', and, oh, I don't know," Ojiro said, strangely quiet. And even more strangely, blushing.
"Spill it!" Hinata yelled, his eyes shiny with excitement.
"I'm gonna propose!" Ojiro declared, and the other two Alphas at the table cheered and started slapping him on the back in excitement. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. What was there to celebrate? He didn’t want to hear about an Alpha claiming their Omega with a ring, whether it was made of precious metals or left behind by sharp teeth.
He frowned as he reached for his thermos. He unscrewed the cap and held his hand over the opening. Taking in a deep breath, he drew the moisture out of the stuffy break room, making sure to only extract the water, ensuring its purity as he plucked it out of the atmosphere, molecule by molecule. He handed the now-full canister to Hinata, who didn't even break his stream of excited conversation as he took it from him and held it between his palms. By the time Kiyoomi had retrieved teabag from a compartment on the side of his lunch satchel, Hinata was sliding the container back over to him. Kiyoomi wordlessly dropped the bag into the hot water and looked up.
Miya was staring at him, his bright golden eyes sparking with mischief and... something else, something not as easy to recognize.
"Cute trick," he drawled, low enough that Kiyoomi could barely hear him over Ojiro explaining to Hinata how he'd picked out the perfect ring, set with Kita's favorite stones, which was impressive, considering Kita’s expertise in every mineral, as both an earth mover and a geological surveyor.
"It's not a trick," Kiyoomi hissed. "It's the same technique we use every day to out-watt your department."
Miya was unfazed. He leaned back from the table with a smug grin. "I guess y'didnt getta chance t'see yesterday's numbers?"
Black it out to hell, Kiyoomi hadn't. He scowled.
"Take that as a no," Miya said, an insufferable smirk on his insufferable face. Kiyoomi wanted to drown him. He could do it. He could use the water in Miya's own blood against him, hold it back so it couldn’t pump through his heart. Or maybe he'd suffocate him from the inside, draw all the moisture right out of his internal organs.
"Thinkin' a ways t'kill me again?" Miya asked. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and reached for his metal thermos.
It shocked him in an arc of static electricity so strong he dropped the entire thing. Miya began laughing like a hyena.
Kiyoomi gathered up the tea that had spilled all over the table with a twist of his wrist. The sizeable sphere hovered over his palm.
He threw it into Miya’s face.
The tea was warm, not hot enough to scald, but that wasn't obvious, from the screaming and caterwauling that the blonde menace let loose. The entire room stared at their table as Miya brayed like a dying cow. This was not behavior becoming of a department head, never mind two of them.
Kiyoomi grabbed Miya by the collar. "I'm gonna clean him up," he offered by way of explanation, in response to the shocked look on Ojiro and Hinata's faces. He was thankful patches were a workplace requirement, because he could feel his face heating up, and knew his embarrassment was written all over his scent.
He manhandled Miya into the restroom right next to the break area.
"Wow, y're strong," Miya said, still blinking tea from out of his eyes. Kiyoomi waited for the second half of the sentence. When Miya didn’t say it, Kiyoomi finished it for him.
"For an Omega, you mean," Kiyoomi spat, pushing Miya into a chair. The restroom had a lounge area with a couch, a room before the actual toilets with cubicles for nursing dams to pump milk.
"Y're an Omega?" Miya asked in disbelief. As Kiyoomi started to gather the tea from his face and hair, the annoying Alpha seemed to realize where he’d been dragged. He looked around with an expression on his face that made him look like even more of an idiot. "Guess y'are, if y're bringin' me inta a nice Omega bathroom. Ain't been in one ‘a these since I was a pup."
Kiyoomi concentrated on making the bubble of collected tea as big as possible, so he could maneuver it over to the sink and this whole episode could be behind them.
"Don't play stupider," Kiyoomi mumbled. "It's not a good look."
"Isn't the expression 'don't play stupid?'"
"Unfortunately, that isn't an option for you," Kiyoomi said, gathering the last drops of tea and moving them over to the sink.
"Mean."
"I'm not the one using my powers to attack people."
Miya made an affronted noise and motioned over at the bubble of tea that Kiyoomi had retrieved from his hair and clothes.
"That was a reflex," Kiyoomi hissed. "You're the grid-fucker who started it." He dumped the liquid into the sink and washed his hands. He walked past Miya to leave.
The Alpha reached out, grabbing him by the wrist. Kiyoomi looked down at the unwanted contact as he might look upon a cockroach. He ripped his hand away. "Do not touch me," he growled. He could feel the heat rising in his face again, his cheeks flushing with anger instead of embarrassment.
"M'sorry!" Miya said, raising his hands in surrender. "I just wanted t'say m'sorry."
Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes. In the three years he'd known Miya, the low-flow had never apologized. He'd laughed at Kiyoomi’s pain and suffering and invited retaliation. What was different now, all of a sudden?
"It's because I'm an Omega, isn't it?" he asked, his mouth twisting in an ugly snarl. "That's why you're sorry."
"The fuck?" Miya asked, looking dumber than usual. "What does that have anythin' t'do with anythin'?"
"You think I'm some precious Omega, that you've offended my delicate sensibilities," Kiyoomi argued, saying the last word with disdain. "And now you're apologizing."
"Alright, well, fuck you, y'short cirk," Miya shrugged. "Don’t even give a watt about y'r secondary gender. Y're the best competition I ever had, that's what's important, not whatcha do in bed. I was apologizin' 'cause y'took me in here and tried t'clean me up, so y'obviously feel bad, and I never wanna make ya do somethin' y’feel bad for."
"My actions are my own, Miya. You don't make me do anything."
Miya sighed, rubbing his hand over his face as if he were weary for some reason.
"Just wanna say I'm sorry, and I wanna make it up t'ya, okay, Omi?"
"Not my name, Miya."
"Not my name, Omi."
A week had passed since the Tea Incident, which meant Kiyoomi was one week closer to the winter holidays, and his family's annual Christmas party.
Hinata had been his last option. Kiyoomi knew asking a newly mated Alpha was scraping the bottom of the reservoir.
It didn’t help that his cousin had started sending him daily text messages, under the guise of counting down how many days they had left before they could “hang out.” Kiyoomi knew the real reason. He was the kind of vapo who got off on other people’s misfortune. Well, maybe not anyone’s. Just Kiyoomi’s.
Motoya was enjoying the anticipation of it all, relishing the fact that if Kiyoomi showed up alone, his mom and aunt and Grandmother Aiko had a roster of Alphas all lined up for courting. Pedigreed Alphas, from good, wealthy families. Families like the Komoris and the Sakusas.
The Sakusas had been rich for hundreds of years. They'd claimed desert land titles in the early days of Westward Expansion, then used their water manipulation powers to turn their holdings into oases for thirsty homesteaders and gold rushers. Kiyoomi had been expected to take his rightful place in his family’s empire. He didn’t. He was more interested in what he could give to the world, rather than what he could take. His parents had been truly offended when he'd gone into public service.
Their offense was compounded by the fact that their Omegan son’s neck remained unmarked, even as their other children were found suitable matches. The pressure was building, all the gauges in the red, and Kiyoomi knew the whole system was going to blow at the annual holiday get-together. His parents had been adamant. Bring home an Alpha or we'll bring one home for you.
"I'm in favor of the Ushijima heir," Motoya was saying on the video call, as he painted his nails. He was such a prissy Omega, all frills and soft edges. Everything Kiyoomi wasn't. At least Motoya’s Alpha seemed to like it. Kiyoomi tried to remember her name.
"Why don't you date him, then," Kiyoomi grumbled, as he looked through his closet and tried to think about packing. He pulled a sweater from a hanger and tossed it in the direction of his suitcase.
"You know Makoto wouldn't like that," Motoya giggled. Makoto. Her name is Makoto. Kiyoomi shuddered as he remembered the bone-crushing hug he'd endured the last time they'd had brunch together. She was terrifying, and Motoya loved her for it.
"Cuz, you got two days left," Motoya reminded him, flashing a blinding smile in the face of Kiyoomi’s growl of frustration.
Kiyoomi thumbed through the files his mom had mailed to him, innocuously arranged in a cardboard box, like their contents weren’t capable of upending his life. Every single person in the folders had something in common. They were all big, strong Alphas. Alphas that would put him in his place. Or at least the place they thought he belonged. He imagined himself barefoot and pregnant and felt a bit like crying.
"Hey, hey, Kiyo," Motoya said, and Kiyoomi snapped his face back into a neutral expression. "It's gonna be okay."
"Easy for you to say," Kiyoomi grumbled.
"Look," Motoya said. "You want me to ask Koko if she knows anyone? Maybe someone who will make Ma and Auntie lose their mind? Someone wild. She has one friend, Saeko? She drinks everyone under the table at every party. I guarantee you show up with her, everyone leaves you alone."
Kiyoomi didn’t want that. A bad Alpha would just send his parents running in Ushijima’s direction in a heartbeat. And a Beta or another Omega wouldn’t do. He needed an Alpha’s Alpha, someone aggressive and annoying and—
A flash of inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt.
Someone his parents would see as a real Alpha.
Someone he could barely stand himself.
Someone who owed him a favor.