Gojo-sensei was an alpha, in all aspects, he was undeniably all alpha. Physically, he was tall and large. Broad shoulders and long legs corded with thick muscles born from both genetics and of practice. He carries himself loosely and easily, imposing and confident, assured in everything he does. Backed up with the knowledge that anything he works on would, and will always come up more or less perfect. He was a man that tasted nothing but the sweetness of success his whole life.
Gojo Satoru wields cursed energy like the gods planned his birth solely for him to live and breathe cursed energy. Like the universe itself decided to bless this man with effortless affinity towards the single unit of supernatural power in their world. He uses it, draws on it like breathing in air, and he learned cursed techniques just as easily. Mastering, developing, then improving his technique with a thirst of a man that detested the bitter taste of normalcy.
That was the thought that had lingered the longest in Megumi’s mind, and it still does. Gojo Satoru was blessed by both the heavens and the earth, but he was still human. Like an amnesiac god forced into a body of a mere mortal.
His teacher was childish, loud and annoying. He was arrogant, disrespectful and ill-mannered, and Megumi knew Gojo was aware of all this. The alpha just couldn’t care less about such boring things like tact and discipline. He was a petty and brash adult, he took what he wanted regardless if people are willing to give into his wishes. And for the longest time Megumi resented him for it.
He was still a pup when he met the man with odd eyes. When he first saw him, he could have sworn the alpha’s eyes were merely mirrors that carry the reflection of the sky. Then the man looked down, fine features twisting into a scowl, and he thought he must be an omega. His old teachers taught him that omegan eyes flash bright blue when they feel strong emotions. He was taught that omegas were born beautiful, that any dynamics had the capacity to be beautiful but omegas had the assurance of being ethereal.
This man with thick snowy lashes, finely sculptured feautures, was too beautiful to be anything but omegan. At first glance he thought it was true. The man proves him wrong the moment he squatted down and threw him a fangy grin. Too carefree, he thought.
Megumi watches television, he was very much aware of how secondary gender affects how people carry themselves. The man’s grin holds none of tribulations nor the hardships of the lesser sex.
When the man spoke, he knew then for certain he wasn’t an omega. He was rude and overbearing, an alpha was Megumi’s guess. The older boys in his school act the same.
“Megumi, you’re not listening!” The annoyingly playful voice cuts through his idle reminiscing.
He sees and feels his concentration breaking, wisps of his cursed energy fluctuating for a few seconds before he took control once more.
The alpha whined loud with his leg folded on top of another, on the floor across Megumi, swinging back and forth on top of his cushion. He felt his left eye twitch in irritation, his guess as a pup was right, no other dynamics were as annoying as alphas. No other human was as annoying as Gojou Satoru, period.
Gojou-sensei was supposed to be mentoring him. He had been training to keep his cursed energy steady, while keeping his large snake shikigami corporeal — the shikigami that currently drains him the most due to its sheer size. The whole reason for the training was to see how long he could keep his shikigamis present while inactive, then later they would try it while he was sparring with the upperclassmen. And the whole reason of Gojou watching over him was to notify him if he was losing concetration or wasting cursed energy, because no one could see cursed energy quite as vividly as the man with the Six Eyes.
“I thought the purpose of this exercise was to not listen and focus?” He hissed at his mentor, one hand unconsciously tapping impatiently at the large snake head resting on his thigh.
“Uh-huh and you failed!” Not for the first time, Megumi had the urge to punch that stupid grin out of his mentor’s stupidly symmetrical face. The bastard looked so smug and satisfied with himself for being such an ass to a student. It made him wonder why the hell the man even bothered handling first year students and not the third and fourth years that could easily do with very little mentoring.
His disdain must have shown in his face because Gojou-sensei threw his head back and laughed.
Orochi, reacting based on its master’s irritation, swiped a mighty tail to hit the alpha with. The tail, thicker than Megumi’s whole torso, remained suspended on air, inches away from Gojou’s white head before landing on the wooden floor with a dull thud.
Gojou peers at him over the rim of his dark glasses, expression suddenly pensive. Megumi got the feeling that his mentor was using his Six Eyes to observe him, and for some reason that didn’t sit well with him. It always felt invasive, Gojou-sensei could already read him like an open book. With him using his inherent ability, Megumi might as well confess every emotion, opinion and thought.
“You’re not going to try harder, Megumi?” Megumi blinked at him, processing his words. It wasn’t his mocking tone that ticked Megumi off, but rather the implication of his words.
Megumi narrowed his eyes, Orochi rousing from its rest, shifting his long body around the younger.
“I am doing my best,” Orochi coils itself protectively around him, large white scales rubbing againt the sleeve of his tracksuit. Its giant head looms over Megumi’s body, tall and menacing.
“You’re doing what you percieve as best,” the man says simply.
You’re full of shit, Megumi thought. Is the man going philosophical on him? Of course he was doing what he thought was best, that was the only ‘best’ he knew of. He wasn’t a genius.
The arrogant man rests his chin on his palm, his elbow resting on his thigh. Unbothered by his student’s irritation nor his gigantic shikigami poised and ready to attack.
“Secondary genders are not supposed to be supressed you know.” Gojou explains, seeming to be in a teaching mood now. “Your dynamics is inherently a part of your whole, surpressing your instincts mean that you are essentially supressing half of your possible output. Your Orochi could have stayed for a whole day, if you weren’t so keen on beating your instincts down.”
That was because Gojou-sensei was an alpha. It was easy for him to say. He had the excess aggression to convert into cursed energy, Megumi was not the same. His baser instincts were to care, nurture and comfort. It was harder for him to use those emotions for cursed technique, after all cursed energy are extracted from negative emotions not the positive kind.
The alpha stops mid-lecture, and regarded him with a thoughtful look. As thoughtful as it can get with his eyes covered with bandages.
“I keep forgetting you’re much younger than you seem.” He murmurs to himself.
“Try to connect with your omega more, if you don’t indulge in your instincts once in a while you’re gonna have a harder time. Heats, for one, at least from what I heard-“
Megumi flushed at his words, embarrassment and mortification slapping him straight in the face. His mind cut off Gojou’s words the moment the alpha uttered the word ‘heat’.
Megumi has an imaginary filing cabinet full of topics he would rather not talk about with another person, and his stupid teacher just had to pick the topic he dreaded the most.
Heats for omegas were a sore spot, a very sensitive and private topic. It brings more complicated pheromones before, during and after plus more physical and mental complications. Especially for male omegas, everyone knew that. But this man brings it up like he’s out shopping for new socks.
He brings both his knees up his chest, curling in on himself and stares resolutely at the wooden floor panels, unable to look at the damned alpha anymore. He still can’t think of his heats without getting flustered and embarrassed and this, this stupid alpha—
Gods, this cannot be happening.
“Eh? Megumi,” the alpha drawls out his name like taffy, sweet and sticky. “Are you blushing?” He hates him so much, they both know that he was, the man just loved being an ass. He did not have to see his mentor to know that the man is sporting a shitty smirk.
And gods he hears his rustling of clothes and the crinkle of plastic, no doubt from various sweets stuffed in the alpha’s pockets.
The older man was moving, he realizes with horror.
He feels his hold on Orochi loosening, the shikigami slowly dissolving down into his shadow as his careful leash on his cursed technique wavers in the face of Gojou Satoru. His concentration quickly shuting down after a few tactless words from his mentor’s mouth.
For an absurd second he wishes that he too can slink into the shadows and escape this conversation.
Panic rushes to him in realization that with Orochi gone, nothing is standing between him and the insufferable man now.
Embarrassment claws and fights its way to the tops of his cheeks, burning hotter because he can feel the heat emanating from the alpha as he gets closer. Probably to peer and prod at his face and tease him to his deathbed.
He wants to run or hide, anything to get away from the man’s all-seeing gaze. Yet his limbs refused to move. He would have admired his mentor’s overwhelming presence, if he wasn’t the one being subjected to it.
He stubbornly keeps his gaze on his own socked feet, keeping his face as neutral as he can while ignoring Gojou’s looming presence in front of him.
His scent wafts around Megumi like a cooling blanket. He smelled of frozen blueberries, sweet and tart, and some spice that smelled earthy and smoky. The metaphorical fog threatens to douse at his sanity, he blinks the fog away.
He realized with disbelief that the bastard alpha peeled of his own scent blockers, and was now deliberately pouring out his pheromones.
He slaps a hand to his nose, glaring heatedly at the man crouched in front of him.
“Bastard you-“ he chokes on the air, the scent so thick, he can taste it. Like he crushed a handful of berries, and slathered it on his tongue.
“Next lesson for the day! Sorcerers do not only deal with curses but curse users as well. Who, by the way, will use their dynamics to their advantage and they will not hesitate to force their pheromones on a pretty omega.”
His nose tingled from the onslaught of strong pheromones, unaware of himself tilting his neck to the side, baring his neck for the alpha.
His scent glands felt swollen and itchy, his skin felt tight and so wrong. He wanted to let out his scent too, have their scents blend and mix to create a scent that was uniquely their own.
He brings a hand up to scratch the uncomfortable scent blockers off.
“Don’t take them off.” he ordered with a snap in his voice that had the omega flinching, his arms falling limp at his sides. The omega makes a confused sound in response to the order, but otherwise remained still.
“Hmm, alright,” The alpha hums, staring down at Megumi with covered eyes. “You won’t be able to remember this if I get too crazy. That should be enough.”
All at once, the thick scent dissolves into nothing, and the omega was once again pushed at the very recess of Megumi. He blinks away the last vestiges of his baser instincts, increasingly fuming in disbelief and anger. He pushed down the defensive embarrassment, in order to bare his smaller fangs at the alpha.
“Whoa, there! This is just-“
Faster than he thought he could, he draws up his cursed energy and folds his fingers to the shape of his shikigami.
“Demon Dogs!” The large dogs bound over to push on the alpha’s chest, toppling him over to land on his ass. Megumi rejoiced minutely at the sight, before running for his escape. He is fully aware that running away was too childish, but the mortification he’s been trying to beat down, was now coming back in waves.
He can already feel the increasing heat at the top of his cheeks.
“Megumi, we’re not done yet! You need to build up immunity to-“ Gojou starts to call out after him, he doesn’t stop running as fast as he can because he knows the snowy-haired alpha could catch up to him in less than a second.
The answering laughter was expected but that didn’t mean that Megumi was irritated less.
He refused to acknowledge the frantic beating in his ribcage as anything but a sign of his depleting stamina.