Inori looks at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"You're... right. I was making... assumptions... and it was petty and immature."

"Well I don't give a shit. People apologising pisses me off, and if you want an apology from me you'll be waiting here forever." Subaru finally looks up at him in shock, as if he hadn't expected that social script to get broken today. "What? Just fucking do better if you care so much. Or don't. No skin off my back. You talk too much."

Subaru goes quiet again for a few minutes then stands up and says, "I'd better go. I'm... sorry, Tōkan. I'll catch up with you later." And he flees before anyone can say anything.

"Hmm. Seven out of ten, has room for improvement but overall a success."

Inori peers at his boyfriend. "I don't understand you."

"It's more about understanding him. But I think you'd get really angry right now if I went into detail about Subaru's psychology."

"Yeah." He scans the QR code attached to the table and goes through various items in the menu. "I want a triple bacon burger with extra mayo and cheese and large fries and onion rings."

"Your wish is my command, my prince."

"...I'm not a prince."

As the filthy rich heir of the filthy rich Kokonoe family Tōkan doesn't even register having to pay for this stuff and is happy to treat Inori to whatever he wants. Boy burns through calories like crazy anyway, it's like he has a black hole for a stomach. Not that Tōkan has much of a leg to stand on there, between sports and weightlifting and getting into fights he's also a calorie black hole and doesn't get fat either.

Still, Inori is something else. After they're done with lunch he wants to go somewhere to get ice cream, even though Tōkan feels like there is no way physics could allow him to stuff more food into himself, but sure, it's a cute date activity anyway.

Inori is tapping away at some mindless game on his phone with one hand while using the other to hold Tōkan's hand on the way to the ice cream parlour when he suddenly freezes and doubles over, dropping his phone.

"—Inori? Inori-kun, what's—oh." What a fucking time for the heat to hit him, shit. "Come on, I'll take you home, here..." He crouches down to grab Inori's phone but when he's back up he sees... a familiar face.

He looks around.

That's eight familiar faces now.

"Oh no."

"Yamada! Long time no see! With your boyfriend again? Don't think you're running this time."

Inori looks up at the person who said that and grabs his lead pipe from the ground, as he'd also dropped it when the heat hit him.

"You're all pathetic and I am going to fucking kill you."

"Still not confident you can take us in a fair fight, huh?" Tōkan straightens up. "Fine, then. You wanna dance? Let's dance."

Inori straightens up, too, and his grip tightens on the pipe—

(I want an alpha I want an alpha I want an alpha)

—dodge a punch, use the momentum to push his assailant away—

(that guy smells so nice he's not even in heat and his pheromones are delicious)

—jump over an outstretched leg and elbow that girl in the back of her head—

(bet her dick's huge, it'd fill me up nicely)

—trip her just to be on the safe side—

(I want Tōkan)

—oh. He does. He does want Tōkan.

This moment of distraction is enough for one beta to kick him in the stomach hard enough that he drops his pipe again and an for alpha to hold him still.

"You're gonna be my punchbag today," says the beta.

"Inori!" Tōkan dodges two blows and rolls out of the way of a high kick then dashes towards Inori.

(I want him I want him I want him)

His strength is all gone, his fighting spirit is all gone, all his heat-addled brain wants right now is his boyfriend, his alpha, his Tōkan...

Tōkan rolls out of the way of two other people and kicks that one beta in the solar plexus hard enough that he drops Inori's pipe (which he'd grabbed after the alpha started holding Inori) and Tōkan can grab it himself.

His stance smoothly shifts to one of armed combat and the other six (minus the beta, still doubled over in pain, and the alpha holding Inori) surround him. "Six versus one! Come on! Come at me!"

They do.

Tōkan is good. Tōkan is very good. And the pipe helps. But Tōkan is not good enough to fend six people off on his own.

Inori is. Should be. But now he's immobilised by an alpha and she keeps whispering things into his ear, about how nice he smells, how much she wants to fuck him, tie his pretty arms up and put her dick up his pussy all the way to the hilt. "You're gonna beg, little brat, you're gonna beg for my cock," she purrs. "But I won't be the only one. We'll take turns. It'll be delicious."

Disgusting disgusting disgusting—Tōkan is getting beat up, dishing it out but still getting beat up, and here he is, fragile, weak, defenceless, feeling a stupid alpha's dick pressed against him through their clothes while she keeps being an absolute garbage human as she watches all of her "friends" trash his boyfriend.

No.

"Fuck. You."

He headbutts her with the back of his skull then shoves one foot between her legs to knock her off-balance and twist so that he falls right onto her and knocks the wind out of her in the process. He jumps to his feet, gives her a kick for good measure, and then gives that one beta another kick so he'll stay down.

"HEY ASSHOLES! YOU'RE FIGHTING TWO PEOPLE!"