Chapter Text
“That’s Lyra,” Megumi says as he points up at the sky. “It’s supposed to look like a harp, or a lyre. It has the Vega star. Right there—“ He moves his hand to the right. “See it? It’s the fifth brightest star in the night sky.”
When Yuuji doesn’t respond after a substantial amount of time, Megumi tilts his head up, his cheek smooshed against the alpha’s bare chest, the hair tickling his skin.
He finds Yuuji already staring down at him with such a soft, tender smile.
“Yeah, I see it,” Yuuji replies, his smile growing.
Megumi shoves at him, laughing despite his valiant attempts to suppress his amusement. The alpha asked him to give a lecture on the stars, so that’s what Megumi is going to do.
“You aren't paying attention.”
“I am, I am,” Yuuji says, and grabs Megumi’s hand. Holds it close to his heart. “Show me another one. Please?”
“Fine.” Megumi scans the constellations, rifling back through his memories. “That one, over there. Cygnus.”
“Where?” Yuuji asks, squinting.
Taking hold of Yuuji’s hand, he guides it, then uses the alpha’s outstretched index finger to trace the pattern.
“There. The swan. Or, a flying bird. Do you see the outstretched wings?”
Rather than respond, Yuuji reclaims use of his hand and cups Megumi’s jaw. Dipping his own head lower, he slots their lips together—drawing Megumi ever closer with the arm he has wrapped around the omega’s shoulders. Megumi swears he would never grow weary of this. The taste of this alpha, the shape of him. Megumi would give up his entire life and choose this again and again. And if he could only experience this in his wildest dreams—then put him into a coma, let him sleep and sleep and sleep.
“I do,” Yuuji replies once they break apart. Pressing his lips onto Megumi’s forehead and then his nose. “Speaking of, you’re pretty skilled with those falcons, too, aren’t ya?”
Color rises to his cheeks. Compliments are not freely given in the Kamo household, and Megumi can’t remember the last time he received one from someone he truly cared about.
“How’d you know that?”
A shrug. A smile.
“I’ve watched you once or twice. From far away, but I could tell. I also visit Maki sometimes. Bring a bottle of whiskey. Shoot the shit.”
That information will be stored away for safekeeping. And when Megumi says safekeeping, he really means ultra-not-safekeeping. He’s snuck out twice successfully; he should be able to execute another perfect getaway. A year ago, he actually did visit Nue once or twice in the dead of night, but got spooked after almost getting caught.
“Shoot the shit, huh?”
“Mhm,” Yuuji hums, lying back down. Absentmindedly, he scratches at Megumi’s back, the deep vibration in the alpha’s chest a great lull. “You should be there next time. Properly introduce me to Nue.”
Yuuji’s scent shifts into something more soothing—wrapping around Megumi’s very soul like a hug. Alpha pheromones seemingly provide a false sense of security during a time in which when Megumi should be anxious as hell. Sneaking out…being unfaithful to his rich and powerful husband…running the risk of pissing off the biggest cunt in the entire world…
None of that matters. Not with Yuuji beside him.
A purr starts and then amplifies in Megumi. For once, he lets it. Coiling himself tighter around Yuuji, he realizes that for the first time in his existence, he isn’t ashamed to be an omega.
“Being around you makes it easier to exist,” Megumi says, as if that isn’t a crazy statement to tell someone whom you have virtually just met. “I—thank you. For that. For everything. For showing me what it’s like out there.”
In response, a deep rumbling. The purr matches Megumi’s, just louder—more domineering.
“You’re so brave—“
Megumi scoffs, shutting that shit down immediately. That’s too much. Way, way too much. Except, the alpha doesn’t end his spiel there—
“No, listen,” Yuuji continues and flashes Megumi the cutest, littlest frown. “You’re brave, Megumi. You’re capable of so much more than you think you are.”
Words are lost on Megumi while that sinks in.
Capable?
Yuuji being the messenger makes it a bit more palatable. Not enough to believe him, but still an impressive feat nonetheless, to even drive Megumi to consider the possibility.
Megumi has never been an individual who cares about the rat race—content to exist in his own personal bubble where he’s most familiar. But then Yuuji says something inspiring like that, and Megumi feels on top of the world. Like he can accomplish anything.
“I will have to take your word for it,” Megumi says, tracing lines over Yuuji’s muscles—around the shadows that form under the moon’s light.
Accepting a compliment isn’t Megumi’s forte. Obviously.
“One day you’ll see it.”
It’s said with a finality, and Megumi isn’t in the mood to argue the point anymore. Fine. Over time, if they’re even blessed with any additional seconds of that, Yuuji will realize how wrong he is. Megumi is a lot of things, and ‘brave’ isn’t one of them.
“You’ll see,” Yuuji repeats, firmer.
Drop it already.
Enough.
“Show me more constellations, ‘lil flower,” Yuuji says moments later. So, he is able to read the room. “Dawn’ll be here much too soon.”
They both know what that means.
Devastating reality crashes in, and it flatlines Megumi’s mood. When will they see each other again?
Will they ever see each other again?
In no time, however, Yuuji revives it. A special talent of his.
“C’mon, two more—just two more constellations and I’ll pop a second knot in you.”
Megumi hums, pretending to consider the proposition.
Dealdealdealdealdealdealdealdealdeal.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
He starts scouring the sky, skipping over the more boring stars in favor of the grander ones. The specks of light that’re so faraway, yet so awe-inspiring. The two of them may be nothing more than two inconsequential souls floating on a rock in the ever-expanding universe, but Yuuji deserves nothing less than the best and the brightest.
And, it lengthens their short time together.
A win-win.
So, Megumi launches into another spiel, secretly and not so secretly, thrilled about the whole thing.
“Fine. Up there, that huge star, above Cygnus…yes, yes that one. Well, that’s called Cepheus, who was the father of Andromeda, and he was…”
xxx
Waking up alone after the events of last night is…
Heartbreaking? Terrible? Tragic? All of the above?
And then he has his heat to contend with.
Some waves of his heat are more agonizing than others. They last approximately thirteen to fifteen minutes and then settle down to an uncomfortable hum for about twenty-nine minutes, give or take, before cycling through the same pattern again and again and again.
The highs last this long due to his age. Younger omegas get hit the worst and have lower intervals between spikes. Experiencing this again is horrific, and reminds Megumi why he was okay—excited, even—to take the heat suppressant to begin with.
In Megumi’s more lucid moments, he sits at his usual spot in his room, engaging in his usual activity—staring at the alpha outside as he works. This time, however, Yuuji looks up. Acknowledges him. The alpha takes his hat off and gives Megumi the subtlest of nods. He must know that Megumi is watching.
Has he always known?
The sun catches the sweat on the alpha’s skin—gleaming. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Megumi squeezes his eyes shut. He knows how that tastes now. How it feels against his own skin. This heat will kill him, and it won’t be due to the fact that it’s a dangerous biological process, but because the one person he wants, more than anything, to make it better, stands thirty feet away and is unattainable.
There’s a pang deep within his belly, and he’s become so acquainted with it that he rushes to his bed lest he wants to curl up on the floor. It’s just…too warm. The blankets are too warm. The sheets are too warm. His sweat and slick have undoubtedly soaked straight down into the mattress.
He can’t even build a proper nest beyond the extra flimsy blankets that were given to him this morning. What he really needs is his alpha’s scent. Preferably one or two or three of those shirts he works in. Anything that he can dive his nose into that’ll provide a modicum of gratification for his basal instincts.
God, it’s humiliating. Moreso when he grabs the toy that Nobara acquired for him (secretly, because the Kamos don’t believe in such things as fucking sex toys), and without any preamble, thrusts it inside. Despite the size, it’s a perfect fit, given his body’s fundamental readiness for the real thing. The toy has a fake knot and everything. All the bells and whistles.
Yet inferior compared to Yuuji’s cock. His knot.
Drool flows out of his mouth, jaw slack, as he reaches behind himself to pump the toy in and out, in and out, imagining, or trying to imagine, that it’s Yuuji back there.
But he either has a mediocre imagination, or it’s just not a practical fantasy because there’s no way in hell that this’ll work. Yuuji was a powerhouse—is a powerhouse—and he’s right out there, so close, and Megumi can’t be with him, and—
He lets out the most pathetic whine and gives up on his quest for relief. The best he can accomplish is rolling around on his bed, self-swaddled in a thin top sheet until this heat passes.
And just when Megumi thinks his day cannot get any worse, Nobara slips inside his room with her copy of the key, and, covering her eyes, says, “Noritoshi is back. Should I inform him to come up now or later?”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Megumi sits up, clutching a pillow to his chest. It’s covered in bite marks and saliva. Embarrassing…
Stupid, little omega who doesn’t even have a mate that he can properly sink his teeth into.
“I’m decent-ish,” Megumi continues, his shoulders hunched. Taking his word for it, Nobara drops her hand and scans both him and the general disarray of the room. Down feathers are floating everywhere, and he pulls four of them out of his unruly hair. “Do I look like I’m in the best state to see Noritoshi?”
“He said he wants to breed you,” she replies, her lips pursing.
Nobara doesn’t need to say any more.
Besides, there’s a zero percent chance that Noritoshi came to that decision himself. His mother must already be pulling the strings—manipulating her own son like he’s a puppet. It’s only a matter of time before she’s a ventriloquist, too. His husband only owns about thirty percent of his own brain, and the number dwindles daily.
“Would he be amenable to seeing me later tonight?”
Nobara’s face twists up.
“Would he be amenable? Speak like a human and not a jackass, and maybe.”
Damn, what set her off this morning?
She deflates once she notices the alarm on Megumi’s face, and even curls up in his bed with him, grimacing at the soppy fluids she’s exposing herself to.
“Everyone’s insufferable. You know how Kurai gets when her son is home. She’s a micromanaging cunt. I think—“ She strokes his hair and scratches at his nape. Megumi closes his eyes, purring. “—we should run away. And—“
She abruptly stops, her breath catching in her throat.
“Megumi…”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you smell different? I didn’t notice before, being so far away, but now that I’m this close…”
For a moment, panic embeds itself into his chest—the tightening, the squeezing—his muscles screaming. But then he remembers that Nobara literally encouraged this. Advocated for him to manipulate the gardener into impregnating him. Therefore, she can’t be angry with him.
“Yuuji gave me his knot last night.”
He whispers it, just in case a Kamo servant is eavesdropping. It’s happened before. These assholes can’t mind their own business.
“Okaaaaaay, good, but…perhaps that shouldn’t happen again,” she murmurs, her nose wandering down the curve of his neck. “If I’m noticing your scent change, then the Kamos might. I know that when an alpha and an omega are mated, their scents intermingle. But this is strange. It smells like the beginning of that. He didn’t—“
“He’d never,” Megumi says, interrupting her with a swift shake of his head. “He’d never bite me without my permission. I actually, uh…” His voice drops even lower. “…noticed a scent change after the first time we met, too.”
She whacks him on the shoulder.
“And you didn’t tell me? Your trusty handmaiden? Your right hand woman? Megumi, that’s weird.” Then, she giggles, erupting into a fit of them. When she finally catches her breath, she says, “Awww, it’s like you guys are fated to be together. True mates. The romance of it. Like a fairytale out of a children’s book.”
Heat spreads up Megumi’s neck, and it isn’t because of his cycle. This is so embarrassing. Nobara is never going to let him live this down. In fact, Nobara will most likely harass him about this every day for the rest of his sad life.
“I would hope they wouldn’t put our story in a children’s book,” Megumi mumbles, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. “That’d be inappropriate.”
Nobara’s eyes widen, practically popping out of her skull, and she peers down at his belly, an obvious question ping-ponging around her skull.
“Do you think it worked? Do you think you’re, y’know, with child?”
He scoffs.
“Nobara, please.”
“Doesn’t it work that way? Isn’t it a sure-fire thing if an alpha knots an omega in heat?” Before he can protest, she begins to rub her palm along his abdomen—frenzied. “I mean, that must be how it works. Right?”
“I don’t know,” Megumi responds, shrugging. “Genuinely. I wouldn’t know.”
It’s not like he was taught that much about his own reproductive system beyond the basics. Megumi could give a lecture on the reproductive system of a beta, and possibly an alpha, but it’s considered too vulgar to speak explicitly about the omega. How a scientific lecture on the omega reproductive system could be viewed as crude is beyond him.
“I won’t have confirmation for a while,” Megumi continues, because offering some information is better than offering no information when it comes to quelling Nobara’s burning and nosy desire for an answer. “Could take a month or two for any noticeable changes. And it’s not guaranteed that it stuck in the first place.”
“I’d stake money on it,” Nobara says, and slides off the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “So, back to my original question. Do you want to see your husband now or later?”
The escalating fever and cramping point to another spike soon, and he’d rather not greet Noritoshi in the middle of one of those. Or when he’s inevitably going to be out of his mind with needneedneed for a knot that his husband can’t give him.
So…
“Later. Preferably, much later.”
Megumi folds in on himself tighter, gritting his teeth.
“I’d also leave, unless you’re itching for a show,” he tells her, beyond the point of shame. “I’m fine for the time being. I promise.”
“Ugh, alright.”
Except she lingers, checking and rechecking that he has cool water available and a plethora of snacks in the nightstand, should he get hungry. Normally, it’d melt Megumi’s ice-cold heart, but given the state of mind he’s in, he has to repress the urge to bite her head off.
“I’ll get outta your hair,” she chirps, her hand on the door. “Poke your head out and holler if ya need me.”
Megumi can only manage a nod, and he isn’t even certain that she could’ve noticed it before slipping out. Still, he breathes a sigh of relief when the door clicks shut.
Not that he’ll be getting adequate rest with her gone. But he won’t have to hold back his moans and groans as a wave of cramping rolls through him, unwavering in its quest to coerce him into seeking a knot. Stupid, stupid body.
“Fuck,” he grumbles out loud, patting around the bed for the toy he hastily stashed under a pile of blankets.
Back to work, not satisfying himself, and not making himself come. If only Yuuji were…
No.
Bad thought. Bad, bad, bad thought.
Yuuji fulfilled his purpose, and there’s no use wishing for him beyond that. It’s a one-way ticket to disappointment. Hellish in what emotions it’ll stir up. Ones like desire. And obsession. And maybe, maybe, love.
If Megumi were a better omega, he’d be able to admit the truth to himself at least, but he’s a coward through and through. At the end of the day, he isn’t afforded the opportunity to lead a life that aligns with who he is. Rather, he lives life in accordance with what the Kamos want, with what the Zenins want.
“Aha!” Megumi breathes upon grabbing hold of the fake knot.
God, even owning this dildo is an act of rebellion. Heaven forbid Megumi is satisfied ever.
No use ruminating on clan politics and societal expectations now, he’s got an orgasm to never reach and the rest of the afternoon ahead of him to do it.
xxx
Later, there’s a weak knock on the door, and Megumi doesn’t need to ask who it is. It’s obvious.
“Megumi?”
His husband opens the door.
“You look well,” Megumi says, taking note of Noritoshi’s appearance. He’s still in his business attire. Has he seriously not had time to change into something more comfortable? “Has Mrs. Kamo been on your ass since you got home?”
Noritoshi nods—once, sharp.
“You know how it is,” his husband replies and joins him on the freshly cleaned bed, closing the sizable distance between them. “Lots to do.”
Megumi still hasn’t the faintest idea what his husband does for work, and at this point, it’s too late to ask. It’s not like he cares, either. Besides, he’d rather get back to his solitude as soon as possible, and asking questions increases the amount of time it’s disturbed.
So, speeding this process along, he scoots closer to Noritoshi, as obvious an invitation as he can make it.
They know this dance.
The air stills—time suspending—until Noritoshi presses his lips against Megumi’s for about three seconds before he jolts back, his eyes fixed on his lap, where his hands remain clenched and folded.
“Sorry,” Noritoshi murmurs, a blush on his cheeks. “Mom said—“ He takes a deep breath and then straightens up, a little less pathetic than before. “We have to have sex tonight.”
Megumi places his hand atop Noritoshi’s.
“Yeah,” he replies, nodding. “I figured that was the case. It’s okay.”
Well, not really. But it’s a necessary evil for the both of them.
Noritoshi doesn’t want to fuck a baby into Megumi as much as Megumi doesn’t want him to try.
The events that follow are awkward at best, and boring at worst. Except Megumi is mostly accustomed to having sex with his husband. Namely, dissociating during the entire ordeal until Noritoshi eventually comes.
Tonight is no different, even with his heat.
He doubts that his husband has the better end of the deal, given how long it takes him to finish. They’re just two individuals getting fucked by the same shitty people. The difference being, one of them has it slightly better.
“Sorry again,” Noritoshi says as he’s buttoning up his shirt, the deed done.
Megumi is sitting with his legs folded in, chin resting on his knee, his husband’s come dripping out of him and onto the sheets.
“This is what married people do,” Megumi says in a poor attempt to comfort him.
When Noritoshi stands and begins to head for the door, Megumi’s mouth opens before his brain can process it.
“Noritoshi?”
His husband turns around, a furrow to his brow.
“Can you…” Megumi pauses. Gnaws on his bottom lip. “Stay here? Tonight?”
Honestly, even though neither of them is remotely interested in each other, it would be nice to have a warm body next to him. Skin-to-skin contact while he suffers through the upcoming night. Sure, he might not be in love with his husband, but he can appreciate him in certain respects.
He likes to believe that Noritoshi feels similar.
For a moment, Megumi is convinced Noritoshi is going to reject the offer. His husband stands there, blank—stiff as a board.
Finally—
“…Okay,” Noritoshi responds, and doesn’t even bother taking his clothes back off before he slides into the other half of the bed.
“Did you have a nice trip?” Megumi asks, clenching his teeth against the next wave that he knows will arrive before he can fall asleep.
“Not really.” Noritoshi shifts until he’s facing Megumi, and adjusts the pillow until he finds a comfortable enough spot. “I don’t like binge drinking and I don’t often like the Kamo business. And those are the two main activities of every trip. What about you? How have these last few weeks been?”
Megumi sighs.
“Much of the same. There’s a chance we are living more parallel lives than we might’ve thought.”
“I’m—“
“Enough with the sorry’s, Noritoshi.” Megumi slides his hand out from underneath the pillow and flicks Noritoshi on the nose. “It’s not like you enjoy this any more than me.”
Noritoshi’s lips press together into a grim line.
Hopelessness wedges itself in Megumi’s chest, in the cartilage of his sternum. And it isn’t only for himself, but for his husband, too. And for Yuuji. And for Nobara. And for the potential pup in his womb.
“Yeah…”
Outside, the buzz of cicadas provides a serene backdrop, and Megumi wishes he could return to that meadow. With the wildflowers and the moon and the stars and most crucially, his alpha.
“Thanks for staying,” he whispers once Noritoshi’s breathing evens out.
They don’t touch throughout the night, save for Megumi’s hand occasionally brushing his.
xxx
“This isn’t normal,” Megumi reiterates to Nobara, who’s currently stripping his bed with a pair of gloves on. “I have to be pregnant. Heats aren’t supposed to be this—this—“
“Easy?” she finishes for him, her brow raised while she bundles the sheets up into a tight ball. “Yeah, I was thinking the same. You were so…aware. I was expecting to be forced to corral you because you tried jumping out of the window or something. I even told Yuuji to go work somewhere else for the rest of the day—“
Megumi gasps.
“My favorite show, Nobara?”
“Well, excuse me for not foreseeing how you were gonna react to him laying out rocks all afternoon. You haven’t quite been your most logical self recently, Megs. I should’ve consulted my fucking crystal ball.”
“Will he be back today or tomorrow?” Megumi murmurs, already gravitating towards the window to check, pressing his face into the glass, smudging it. “Did he ask about me?”
There’s no way in hell that Yuuji didn’t ask about him. Hopefully. If anything, he should’ve been seeking out information about Megumi, as eager to reunite with him.
Unless, of course, it was a ruse. Chase and catch the highborn—knot the naive omega who lives in the big fancy manor with its big fancy gardens.
Shit.
Tears prick the corner of his eyes. He’s so stupid. Gullible enough to believe that what they shared was authentic, when in all honesty, Megumi is an easy target to exploit. Will spread his legs for the first person who’s shown him true kindness in years. Will sit here and decipher details he can’t possibly confirm—like how Yuuji feels or what Yuuji thinks or why Yuuji did what he did.
He glances in the direction of the door—mainly at the heavy-duty lock the Kamos put in place since Megumi started his heat. Perhaps he shouldn’t judge Yuuji so harshly. After all, there’s a part of him that wishes the alpha would save him. Whisk him away in the dead of night. Keep him for himself.
“He did ask about you,” Nobara replies. She approaches him with her arms outstretched, inching forward until his head is resting against her chest.
Her nails begin carding through his hair—once again scratching at his nape.
“He wanted me to give you something—two somethings, actually.”
Digging inside one of her many apron pockets, she procures the items and presents them to Megumi.
A flower and a handkerchief.
More specifically, a pressed daisy—with the classic white petals and the yellow middle. The handkerchief is small, with a floral pattern and an embroidered ‘Y’ on it. Megumi doesn’t wait another second before he snatches them out of Nobara’s hands.
With no decorum, he shoves his nose into the handkerchief. It’s clean, save for Yuuji’s scent. Extra strong, as if Yuuji wore it close to his skin for hours, with the goal of it soaking up as much of the alpha as possible.
Voice small, Megumi asks, “So, he cares about me?”
“He said he wanted to give you something larger, but he didn’t want to risk you getting caught with it,” she says as a way of answering. “He’s so sweet on you already. It’s sickening.”
Megumi smiles—his cheeks hurting from the force of it. Thank god Nobara can’t witness it from her vantage point.
He hugs the handkerchief to his chest and nods.
“Oookay,” he says, giddy. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”
It’s more than cool, but Megumi’s going to keep it simple and not give himself too much false hope. He has to remember that they can’t be together, no matter how much he—or they—may yearn for it.
He crams the handkerchief into his face again—the instant calm that follows comparable to a drug.
“Am I locked in here until my heat officially ends?”
Nobara’s fingers stop moving, and the oxygen stutters in her chest.
“And for a couple of days afterwards, just to be safe,” she says.
Megumi doesn’t need to see it—the frown is evident in her tone.
“I want to take Nue out once it’s over.”
Yeah, getting to fly Nue would make him feel better. It wouldn’t fix a thing, but the fresh air would do him good, especially since he’s barred from opening the window until the Kamos are certain that no one would smell him and his dirty, disgusting heat cycle.
Nobara steps back, a tiny uptick to the corner of her mouth.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Not a promise, but not a refusal. Megumi’ll take it.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asks, and grabs the abandoned sheets off the floor. “These gotta get washed. I’ll bring up a clean set within the hour.”
“Mm,” he answers and curls his legs tighter into his body. “That’s fine. Thank you, by the way. For—” He holds up the handkerchief and waves it like a flag. “—doing this for me.”
“I wish I could do more,” is her reply as she opens the bedroom door.
Once she’s out of the room, he can buckle down and devote himself to project Make Megumi Come 2.0. This time, with the help of Yuuji’s scent. The prospect of miserably failing again fills him with no small amount of dread, yet he persists.
Megumi the Tenacious, remember?
Fuck the toy, too. He’s doing this the old-fashioned way. The way that omegas did it back in the day.
Securing the handkerchief in front of his nose, he pulls aside his robe, pussy already so, so, so slick from the alpha’s residual scent.
Okay, he can do it.
He doesn’t bother teasing himself—just slides right home, two fingers easy-peasy.
Except it’s not his hand, it’s Yuuji’s. Significantly tinier, which does mess with the fantasy, but he shoves that aside in favor of envisioning the alpha in front of him, hips between Megumi’s spread legs as he works him open—so, you can take my knot, like a good little puppy.
He pumps his fingers in and out—spreads his legs wider—the back of his head hitting the wall with a loud thump.
I’ll ruin you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Please do it. Wreck him like he matters.
Another inhale of air—of the alpha—and Megumi’s already so much closer than he’s been this entire day.
With the heel of his palm flat against his clit, he bucks into his own hand, panting. A scorching fire engulfing him, his heartbeat thudding in his ear as he continues to plunge his fingers inside—the aroma of his alpha all-encompassing—twitching and whimpering. Approaching the edge of that peak, the world goes fuzzy, the edge of his vision whiting out right before he tumbles over the edge, both his pussy and his body spasming in an amplified bliss.
Finally. It’s like a fucking victory.
It only eliminates about a tenth of the overall tension in his body, but beggars can’t be choosers.
He listens to the wind blowing outside as he regulates, his walls still fluttering as he pulls his fingers out. His entire hand is soaked, but all the towels disappeared with Nobara, so he reluctantly wipes it on his robe.
Everything will need to be washed, and briefly, there’s guilt because Nobara will have additional slick-covered fabric she’ll have to deal with. He’d assist her if it were allowed. But leaving this room for the next week is out of the question, thanks to the Kamos.
Why does being an omega have to involve so much moisture?
When he stands, the robe falls to the floor, and he throws himself on the bare mattress, groaning.
Will Noritoshi come again tonight? Literally and figuratively.
Or was his evil mother-in-law content with one attempt?
No way.
Kurai will want at least a few more. Her own personal heir machines. As for why she’d want grandpups that are genetically half of someone she despises is beyond Megumi’s comprehension.
It’s better if they have sex a couple more times, Megumi decides. Helps eliminate any potential suspicion that might form.
Besides, Megumi’s situation could be worse. He’s heard vaguely of betas who horrendously mistreat their omega brides. Lock them in their basements. Feed them as minimally as possible—just enough for them to survive.
Beat them. Rape them. Murder them.
Given the grandeur of his room, and the three square meals a day, and the meek husband who doesn’t seek pleasure by hurting him, Megumi should be grateful.
…but he’s not.
Surely that makes him an ungrateful brat.
It’s what his father would say to him, at least, while his mother nodded along, only apologizing to him afterwards, in private.
That’s what wives do for their husbands—pretend.
And Megumi may not be talented at much, but he’s had ample practice at that.