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Yamada Ryosuke & Chinen Yuri

Relationship

Yamada x Chinen

Ship Name

Yamachii
Yamachine

Type

Chaptered Story

Genre

Angst, Fluffy, AU, AOB, Alpha/Omega

Rating

R (Non-explicit) at the start, but the Epilogue will likely be NC-17

Warnings

MxM Relationship, Alpha/Omega Traits, AU

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Synopsis

His head jerked to look down when Yuri twisted his fingers into the edge of his shirt, tugging softly on it, allowing himself to be moved those few inches closer to him, looking up to discover Yuri smiling, his head tilting as he seemed to radiate approval.

“That…whole weird display of…what…testosterone?” Daiki studied Ryosuke, sitting down in the chair behind the stylist station, “...or do you like have some other kind of freaky hormones that make you all...wait—wait!! Is it your Alpha trait that made you all bad ass like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryosuke stated, but he couldn’t hide the smile that was trying to show itself, his body loose and his tone back to conversational, shrugging, “There was no display.”

“Well, I mean the hell? Yes, there was!” Daiki sat forward, ready to challenge Ryosuke, but paused when his eyes narrowed, his head turning slowly to stare at Daiki.

“No…” Ryosuke tilted his head, it was minute, a small movement really, but somehow it held a veiled threat, “There wasn’t.”

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What we know so far: (refer to this section at the start of each chapter for recaps of the chapter before)

Our Members–

Ryosuke:
-is no longer sure if his Granny has passed away as he assumed
-will literally fight anyone who mistreats Yuri

Yuri:
-wore Ryosuke’s pants to work
-escalated to wearing ALL of Ryosuke’s clothing

Kei:
-Can smell Daiki’s scent, indicating he is a hybrid
-is an Alpha

Hikaru:
-is Kei’s Omega

Jump:
-received a letter from Granny Yamada explaining about Ryosuke and Yuri and revealing
-there were going to be two additional Alphas and matching Omegas whose traits would activate once they were exposed to Ryosuke’s activated trait
-these may or may not activate and show themselves in the same way as the original ‘parent’ Alpha (Ryosuke)

ABO–

Alphas:
-can smell subtle (or not so subtle) changes in other’s scents

Omegas:
-can smell other’s scents just not to the level of an Alpha

Ryosuke froze when he walked into the dressing room, one of the older boys from a different group standing at the styling counter, arms crossed as he leaned against the edge of the surface, his eyes fixated on Yuri who was sitting in the chair waiting for his stylist to arrive, slowly spinning the seat back and forth as he listened to the other guy tell a story.

Ryosuke couldn’t help it, he felt a spike of possessiveness flare up, jealousy running across all the nerves in his body and all he wanted to do is to grab Yuri and run him out of the room…not let anyone see him, touch him, be near him…which was…utterly insane.

Seriously, you can’t own another person…you can’t pack him away in fluffy cotton and keep him for yourself.

His eyes shifted to look at Yuri who was still spinning the seat and his face was so pure, so full of light and happiness that Ryosuke wanted to just fall to the ground in front of him and ask him to just shine for him alone.

There is something wrong with me.

I think I need therapy.

You’re an Alpha, this is probably just another part of it, seriously you need to stop trying to stifle these things, just let them ride and take care of him.

Why am I talking to myself like this?

God, I really do need therapy.

I can’t keep people from wanting to be close to Yuri.

I can’t do that…

He knew this, he recognized it, fully understood that it was irrational and impossible and stupid and a million other ‘un’ and ‘ir’ words, but he couldn’t help it. It just was what it was, and it was on top of him without a single thought, every single cell of his body honed in and attuned to the boy across the room who was spinning in the chair, and maybe even more so, at least in this moment, the guy who was looking at him.

Ryosuke could see through him, see through his kind act, he was testing, trying to see if he could get Yuri’s attention, and suddenly Ryosuke was seeing red, his focus narrowed, moving across the room like a flash, standing between Yuri and the boy.

“Ryosuke!” Yuri’s voice was animated and happy, though he fell silent when he sensed the emotions rolling off of him, realizing something was happening, but not sure what it was.

“Takada…” Ryosuke said the name, and it was just a name, but the way he said it was as a curse, as a taunt, and the boy stood up to his full height, taking a step forward to diminish the space between himself and Ryosuke.

To be fair, the boy stood well over a head taller than Ryosuke, but he didn’t back down, rather, Ryosuke’s entire stance screamed ‘predator’ his tiny form radiating a dangerous aura, his head lifted up, eyes dilated as he stepped forward in response.

“You don’t want to do this,” Takada spoke the words as a matter of fact, but Ryosuke just bit back a laugh at how bold the boy thought he was going to be.

Hell no.

“Walk away.”

The boy stood still, and Yuri had shifted, peeking around Ryosuke to look up at him, still trying to piece together what was happening here, what was going on, because he’d never felt this before from Ryosuke, never saw this weird stance he was projecting, and all he could think was…

It’s hot.

Damn it, brain, get your shit together.

There was a strange battle happening, he knew that…while no words were being spoken aloud, and while they weren’t coming to blows, Yuri was positive there was a war being waged in that moment, and then, his eyes widened as Ryosuke took a step forward, a low, menacing sound erupting from his chest, so faint, Yuri was sure he would not hear it from even a few feet away.

Ryosuke took another step forward, his head tilted up to continue to hold eye contact with the other boy, his shoulders rolled forward, hands balled into fists, and everything about him screamed that the boy should run, that he was the prey—and then, the other boy seemed to shrink.

His entire form seemed to fold in on himself, becoming so…small. Whatever swagger, whatever confidence he’d had that had caused him to step up toe to toe with Ryosuke had been deflated, his entire being flustered as he stepped backward quickly, bumping into the counter, and then mumbling some words about needing to go somewhere to do something and then he was gone.

Ryosuke twisted his body, his eyes affixed to the boy, watching him go, his fingernails biting into the palms of his hands as there was a part of him that did not want to let him go, that wanted to impress upon him in whatever method necessary that he was not to come sniffing around Yuri again, that he didn’t belong there.

He’s mine.

DAMN IT.

He is not mine…he’s his own…stop that!

Ryosuke’s eyes shifted to discover Hikaru and Daiki standing just inside the door the boy had just walked through, their eyes wide as they’d watched the strange encounter.

“What was that!?” Daiki asked in wonder, turning to look at the door where the boy had walked through, shifting to move over to where the other boys were.

“What was what?” Ryosuke said the words dismissively but he knew it was stupid because if the boys had been there for even the last twenty seconds, they would know there was something going on…but he just really, really wasn’t ready to try to sort this out.

His head jerked to look down when Yuri twisted his fingers into the edge of his shirt, tugging softly on it, allowing himself to be moved those few inches closer to him, looking up to discover Yuri smiling, his head tilting as he seemed to radiate approval.

“That…whole weird display of…what…testosterone?” Daiki studied Ryosuke, sitting down in the chair behind the stylist station, “…or do you like have some other kind of freaky hormones that make you all…wait—wait!! Is it your Alpha trait that made you all bad ass like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryosuke stated, but he couldn’t hide the smile that was trying to show itself, his body loose and his tone back to conversational, shrugging, “There was no display.”

“Well, I mean the hell? Yes, there was!” Daiki sat forward, ready to challenge Ryosuke, but paused when his eyes narrowed, his head turning slowly to stare at Daiki.

“No…” Ryosuke tilted his head, it was minute, a small movement really, but somehow it held a veiled threat, “There wasn’t.”

For a moment Daiki thought about pushing this issue, confused about Ryosuke’s behavior but then he realized this was not new—he’d been acting exceedingly strange for months, but at least they knew what was going on now. Still, he decided it was best to pick his battles, “Fine, whatever. You do you.”

He waved his hand dismissively, grabbing his phone to play his game, pointedly ignoring the other members in the room.

This left Hikaru, who had not moved from the door, taking in the scene, and when Ryosuke glanced over to see if he was going to need to handle something with him, he was surprised to see a look of clear approval on his face.

Hikaru glanced back at the door where the boy had left, and then back to Ryosuke, nodding his head, “Good.”

Ryosuke grunted in acknowledgment though he wasn’t really sure what exactly was good about it or why this warranted his approval, but he was at least glad it wasn’t going to turn into another conversation about Yuri wearing his pants again.




Ryosuke had felt very protective over Yuri for a few weeks now, though he really thought maybe the word protective wasn’t quite right, because while he did want to protect Yuri in the broadest sense of the word…the really odd underlying emotion was one of possessiveness. It had started back with that idiot Takada and just seemed to grow from there.

He wasn’t the possessive type though, it was just something that didn’t particularly resonate with him in general, at least not before now…he wasn’t one who was too tied to much of anything, emotionally, physically, whatever—he didn’t care much about possessions—well, except for maybe his game consoles but otherwise?

Who cares?

Yet…he couldn’t shake this feeling that kept swelling up within himself, that wanted to stand between Yuri and everyone else, to stop them from touching him, to stop them from interacting with him.

He hated it, and couldn’t really make sense of it, because honestly, the real issue is that…well…to be blunt…everyone smells.

Whether good or bad, everyone seemed to have a distinct odor, and at first he thought maybe Johnny’s had picked up a contract with a fragrance company and was making all of the talents wear them despite half of them stinking to high heaven.

Then he realized, no one else seemed to notice, no one else really smelled anything different, and when he was bold enough to ask one of the other members if they smelled a particular scent, it for the most part ended up with them looking at him like he was insane.

Maybe I am?

He just couldn’t be sure anymore because he knew that Kei and Keito were both Alphas, and while they had a few times experienced things he had—nothing had really measured up to how it was for Ryosuke.

Maybe I’m a broken Alpha.

What it really amounted to was that people smelled…and an extraordinary number of people smelled really BAD. There were many who were more or less neutral, and then a handful of those who had a somewhat appealing scent, but in truth, no one smelled like Yuri.

He felt creepy when he thought about it, trying to define the nature of Yuri’s aroma—feeling like it was super weird to even think about it long enough to label the aspects of his essence—yet, in the dark of night, he’d certainly spent more than a few hours contemplating it until he’d narrowed it down to the finest detail possible.

Yuri smells like a work of art.

Ryosuke smiled to himself, glancing around the table where the group was gathered eating their lunch together, leaning to the side just slightly toward Yuri, inhaling slowly so as to not draw attention to himself.

The distinct scent of the purest sunshine warming the sand on a pristine beach filled his senses, so wonderful and good, it made his toes curl in pleasure.

His fragrance was so perfect, so perfectly him, and it was so raw, so real, and Ryosuke felt like an addict in a lot of ways which was thoroughly disturbing on a lot of levels—yet, he couldn’t really care, because he loved, absolutely loved and adored the way Yuri smelled.

At least, he did when he was at home, untouched by others—because as soon as he touched something someone else had touched, or someone touched him, the scent was tainted somehow—slightly off, as if it were taking on properties of the scent of the other person, and at this point in his life, there were very few things that caused Ryosuke to proverbially lose it than when he could smell someone else’s fragrance on Yuri.

Especially, if it was another Alpha.

It makes me crazy and want to kill someone.

He hated it.

He glanced over, watching as Yuri reached to take the soy sauce out of Yuto’s hand, their fingers brushing through the exchange, and he had to grit his teeth to stop from asking Yuri to wash his hands.

Right then.

Immediately, because the second they touched he could smell the change in Yuri’s aroma.

In all fairness, the change in his scent didn’t last long, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, but it was enough to make Ryosuke uncomfortable, because honestly, how many people needed to touch Yuri in a single damn day?

He would just get to smelling like himself and then someone would touch him again and there it went, off the scent goes…and the worst, the absolute worst were those people with the horribly pungent stenches that he could hardly stand, the Alphas, because it made Yuri smell sour and offensive to all of Ryosuke’s senses.

At least Yuto smelled reasonably nice, a little bit like rain in a spring field or something Ryosuke couldn’t really put his finger on to be perfectly honest because he didn’t care enough to figure it out, dismissing it, and while it did change Yuri’s scent—it wasn’t exactly too much so he could live with it, for now.

Out of the other members only two of them had an odor that Ryosuke hated—Kei and Keito—the other Alphas. Hate actually was probably not even a strong enough word for his reaction to them—he loathed the way they smelled, recoiled from it, was disgusted by it and wanted to douse them in bleach to try to remove it—though thankfully, they didn’t smell that way all the time, only occasionally—yet, if they touched Yuri—they wrecked his scent entirely.

He glanced around the table, still thinking maybe he was a little insane, because there were no superpowers here, that wasn’t how he understood it, yet, unlike the others, he was acutely sensitive to all of them. Obviously, he had no desire to be so fixated on what people smell like, especially when other people don’t seem to even notice it—yet…here he was.

He smiled when his gaze landed on Yuya, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he sensed the soft smell between them—the salty wind, a gentle breeze over the ocean waters…tranquil, serene, so peaceful. Yuya had a perfect smell, if he didn’t love Yuri’s scent so much, he’d definitely say that Yuya had the next best smell of everyone he’d ever smelled before, probably just because of the ocean scent.

God…I’m insane.

I really, really am.

Daiki smelled like clean clothes hanging on a line in the warm sunlight—fresh, comforting, simple but still pleasant. His scent was in direct contrast to Hikaru’s—the aroma of old books, worn and well read—within a study, where a fire was burning projecting a gentle heat across the space—the mahogany shelves casting shadows across the room.

Never mind how much he enjoyed Kota’s too—it was hard to pin down, but somehow it seemed like it must be what a rain forest would smell like—refreshing, peaceful—life giving. Somehow it was like a blanket of warmth around him, and he didn’t mind it a bit, and it was one of the few scents that didn’t completely change every aspect of Yuri’s own personal fragrance.

He looked at Kei, cringing as the memory of his scent washed over him, frowning, because it was so disgusting, so pungent—like curdled milk that had been sitting in a locked car for a month, burning his nose and making his stomach roll. And then there was Keito—dear God—Keito, who was genuinely one of the softest, most precious people Ryosuke had ever met—but, Lord how he reeked. His scent varied from a dog that had been outside in the sun too long and needed a bath to straight up nasty wet dog smell that had been in a sauna for sixteen hours.

He shook his head, knowing he had a foul expression, distracted by Yuto who was in the middle of some animated conversation about something Ryosuke couldn’t be bothered to figure out, his mind becoming fixated on the way the fragrance of rain, misting across a field of wildflowers, blossomed and full in the Spring met his senses.

Seriously, he smells really good too…

He shuddered when he felt Keito’s gaze on him, his eyes connecting with his own—watching in abject horror as if it were being viewed in slow motion as Keito’s hand reached across the table to give Yuri a napkin—his eyes never leaving Ryosuke’s.

Oh, please, no, not this, not today!

Without thought, Ryosuke’s arm snapped out, slapping Keito’s hand away on instinct, surprised by his own actions, eyes wide as Keito drew his hand back to his chest, blinking at Ryosuke while the rest of the members were staring at him in stunned silence.

“Sorry,” Ryosuke huffed, grabbing the napkin from beside his plate to hand to Yuri, “I was…just giving him mine is all.”

Yuri took the napkin from Ryosuke to wipe his chin where he’d spilled a bit of soup, his eyes not leaving Ryosuke’s as he contemplated what exactly was going on.

“Anyway,” Kota cleared his throat, causing everyone to shift nervously, as they redirected themselves back into a normal conversation.

Yet, Ryosuke was hyper fixated on Yuri now, watching him out of the corner of his eye, doing his best to be subtle when he reached forward to push the seasoning shaker across the table away from Yuri when Kei had set it back down, telling Yuri he should try it.

Yuri watched Ryosuke’s hand with curiosity, confused at why he was making a point to move the seasoning too far away for him to reach it, amused when Ryosuke was practically standing up in his seat so he could get it to the furthest edge of the table.

For his own part, Ryosuke was fairly oblivious at this point to how others were behaving or their interest in his own behavior, as he was too overwhelmed by the number of scents on the table that were so close to Yuri.

“Inoo-chan,” he vaguely heard Yuri speak next to him, as he shifted in his seat to reach the bowl of noodles so he could pick it up and move it to the other side of the table with the seasoning, Yuri’s voice seemingly louder than normal, “Can I use your napkin please?”

All of the noise in the room seemed to float softly against Ryosuke’s ear, a high pitched, loud squealing taking the place where Yuri’s voice had been, and his eyes moved to where Kei was now reaching across the table to hand Yuri his napkin.

A napkin he used.

A napkin that has his saliva on it.

Ryosuke could smell it all over the napkin as it moved closer, his focus moving in and out of clarity, and then he was in motion, leaning forward to snatch the napkin out of Kei’s hand before Yuri could take it from him.

Without thinking, his entire form was vibrating, all of his energy seemed to amass into his fingertips as he frantically, maniacally shredded the napkin. Bits and pieces flew into the air, littering the table and the floor as he decimated the paper until it was nothing more than tiny bits of confetti all around him.

As he dropped the last of the napkin into his lap he smiled, feeling a deep rooted satisfaction at having stopped Yuri from touching that napkin.

“Ryosuke?”

“Hmm?” he turned to look at Yuri next to him, his eyes wide in utter and complete innocence as he tilted his head at Yuri’s concerned expression.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Ryosuke stopped for a moment, glancing down at his lap and the plate in front of him, not exactly sure what he’d done, and then he glanced up at the other members in various states of disbelief, worry, and forthright curiosity at the strange display Ryosuke had given them.

“I…umm…” Ryosuke struggled to come up with an explanation for his behavior, his cheeks turning pink in his embarrassment, his eyes moving back to Yuri who had an expression of compassion now, his arm reaching out so he could rest his hand on Ryosuke’s back, patting him softly.

His voice was so gentle, so tender when he spoke, “I wasn’t going to use that napkin.”

Ryosuke felt like he was exposed, like the entire world could see what he’d felt, what he’d thought and he wished it would swallow him whole, but when he chanced a glance up at the others they didn’t have the same expressions as before, instead, they all seemed to somehow be understanding, to be in the moment with him, his discomfort their own.

Even Kei’s expression was soft, his eyes expressive as he nodded his head, then shrugged, “I was just messing with you.”

“I—I knew that…of course…I knew that,” Ryosuke couldn’t find words to explain the situation and then he sort of felt like he didn’t have to, when Yuri moved slowly, his movement precise as he used the napkin Ryosuke had given him to push the last remaining bowl of food that the others had most certainly touched across the table toward the other members.

“I want ice cream,” Yuri announced, intent on diverting attention away from Ryosuke…but Ryosuke was staring at the bowl Yuri had moved, his eyes going in and out of focus.

“Ice cream?” Yuri repeated, bumping Ryosuke with his shoulder.

Ryosuke blinked rapidly as he jerked to the side, brought out of his thoughts by the movement, “You…you just…”

“Shh,” Yuri shook his head, the slightest way, then smiled, “I understand now.”

He paused for a moment, watching Ryosuke’s expression carefully, pleased when he saw the moment he truly comprehended what he had said, what he was trying to tell him, and when he knew he had, he grabbed his hand under the table, “Go get me some ice cream now?”

“Yeah,” Ryosuke nodded, his affection blossoming in his chest, because he knew then, he knew that even though he didn’t remotely understand what was going on or what any of this meant—somehow, it didn’t really matter if he did or didn’t—because Yuri made sense…and he understood—and maybe that’s all he really needed.

All he might ever need.

For him to understand.

And Yuri most certainly did.

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