Chapter Text
Everyone knows that alphas and omegas couldn’t be friends.
One was bound to fall for the other, resulting in either a broken friendship or a blooming romance. This was a fact of life, an undeniable truth with so few exceptions that they weren’t worth noting. When Tsuge and Adachi became friends in college, everybody assumed their “platonic” relationship would evolve into something more. After all, what kind of omega hangs around an alpha that much without the intent to mate him? Everyone thought the pretense was ridiculous, but their classmates and families decided to wait politely while the two got their act together.
It was somewhat of a surprise, then, when Tsuge and Adachi had yet to mate after over a decade of friendship. Adachi was both proud to prove such an outdated idea wrong and annoyed because people kept bringing it up. That is, if they didn’t automatically assume he and Tsuge were dating, a common occurrence that horrified the both of them.
Currently, the two friends were at their usual restaurant, eating while catching up on each other’s lives. They only met two or three times a month, since Tsuge tended to get tunnel vision whenever he started to write a new novel. They’d gone out that night in celebration of his finishing his latest, Eternal Spring, which detailed the story of an alpha secretly pining for his omega coworker for years before a series of unlikely events pushed them into each other’s arms. It had a happy ending, of course. The alpha confesses his feelings, the omega returns them, and they have fiery, explicit sex. Adachi always found that part difficult to read about. Whether this was because he was a virgin (not that he’d ever admit this embarrassing fact out loud) and the idea of sex was too foreign for him to really get into, or because it was his best friend writing this intense smut, Adachi wasn’t sure.
The evening had been going well until the check came. Adachi didn’t recognize their waitress and surmised that she was new, which would explain her blunder– she’d given them one check instead of two and set it in front of Tsuge. It was an honest mistake, an innocent assumption that the alpha would get the check on what seemed like a date night between a mated couple. Adachi knew he’d guessed her thought process correctly when she’d told them they were a cute couple and to enjoy the rest of their night. Neither bothered to clear up the misunderstanding; after so many years of similar presumptions it felt like a wasted effort.
“Kiyoshi,” Tsuge said very seriously as they walked up to the cashier’s counter to pay. Adachi made a hum of acknowledgement. “How do I express interest in an omega without making them hate me?”
All Adachi could do for a moment was gape. “Eh?” He eventually choked out, surprised at his friend's sudden change in topic. Just a moment before, he’d been listening to the man complain about his editor trying to get him to make a public appearance at a book signing. Tsuge had rarely expressed interest in romance before (ironic, considering his occupation) so the reference to an omega he liked was shocking.
“There’s this omega. He’s…cute. Too cute. I don’t know how he feels about me because he’s difficult to figure out,” Tsuge continued, a tortured look on his face. “I don’t want to mess up what we have, but I don’t think I can pretend that I feel just friendship anymore.”
“Wow…you…” Adachi was at a loss for words. Briefly, he wondered if Tsuge was talking about him, if the moment everyone had told him would eventually come was really happening– one of them would catch feelings, and the close friendship they’ve shared would collapse. He contemplated this for all of a second before throwing the notion out. It was too silly to believe– because, well, it was Tsuge– and Adachi knew the only reason he’d entertained it even for a moment was because that’s what people had told him to expect ever since he met Tsuge. He shook his head minutely as if to rid himself of people’s expectations.
Adachi took a moment to mull over the question.
“It depends, I guess. What’s this omega like?”
“He’s…energetic. A dancer, actually.” For some strange reason, Tsuge looked embarrassed and wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Energetic? How old is this guy?” Adachi asked.
“...twenty-three.”
A pause settled over them briefly as Tsuge suddenly met his eyes, shame-faced.
Adachi snickered.
“It is not funny, Kiyoshi. I’m serious.”
“It’s kind of funny. Twenty-three?”
“It’s not like that!”
“Okay, okay, I believe you. What’s his name, by the way?”
Another awkward silence.
“Masato. What’s his name?”
“I…don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“What happened to not judging me?!”
“I said I believed you, not that I wasn’t judging– how do you know his age but not his name? That’s ridiculous!” Adachi laughed. His friend huffed a little, walking faster as they left the restaurant in an effort to get away.
“Masato, wait, wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Adachi called after him, still laughing.
No matter what people might assume, Tsuge would always be his best friend.
…
Kurosawa felt like he was going insane.
For seven straight years, he’d admired Adachi from afar, memorizing the lips he would never get to kiss and those beautiful doe eyes that he’d dedicated several poems to alone. The pretty omega remained oblivious to his staring, somehow.
It was difficult, sometimes, to hold himself back. He knew it would be foolish to act on his feelings since Adachi clearly had no interest in him whatsoever, but whenever the omega got too close– like he was right now– Kurosawa found it an exercise in restraint to stop himself from leaning down and burying his face in the man’s neck. God, he smells so good, the alpha thought with a sigh as Adachi’s elbow brushed his, a fleeting moment of contact that set his nerves alight. They were in a meeting about something-or-other (Kurosawa knew it was about something important, but it was impossible to focus or care with his angel so close) and they’d somehow ended up sitting right next to each other, chairs pushed so close that their arms and legs occasionally touched.
He couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell.
Every time Adachi shifted in his seat, a fresh wave of his scent hit Kurosawa like an anvil to the face. He tried to inhale it as subtly and non-creepily as possible while also withstanding the urge to sweep the man up into his arms and kiss him silly. Adachi was making it difficult, with the adorable furrow between his brows and the way he drew his bottom lip between his teeth…stop, stop, you’re at work, Yuichi, be respectful. Kurosawa made an attempt to focus on the meeting. Ah, I can’t, he’s too cute! And, really, how had no one snatched the omega up yet? Not that he wasn’t grateful– seeing his angel with another alpha (or omega, he shouldn’t presume) would be too painful to bear.
Adachi stretched a little, knocking his elbow into Kurosawa’s again.
“Ah, sorry, Kurosawa-san,” he whispered with wide, apologetic eyes. Too cute, too cute, stop it or my heart will explode. He prepared to say something placating but charming, so Adachi would know not to feel bad about it because he really, really didn’t mind– when he caught another scent, below his angels.
It was the scent of another alpha.
…
Fujisaki was tired of watching those two idiots dance around each other. If they didn’t mate soon, she planned to lock them in a closet together (or maybe she could find a way to shut the elevator off with them inside. She’d seen that in a BL, once). Kurosawa-san and Adachi-san would be such a good couple, she thought as she observed the former staring at the latter for what would be the fifth time that day. But I swear, if I have to see that love-sick puppy look on Kurosawa-san’s face one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out.