The sleek black town car hadn’t even fully stopped before both back doors flew open. Akio and Jun emerged almost simultaneously, their usual imposing CEO auras clashing violently with the childish urgency radiating off them. The scent of expensive leather (Akio) and aged whiskey (Jun) warred in the crisp evening air as they practically raced up the manicured walkway towards their luxury penthouse.

He’s going to love mine more. Akio thought, his red eyes narrowed, fingers tightening around the small, velvet box in his pocket. The bespoke platinum cufflinks, shaped like tiny, fierce dragons just like the one on your shared bonding ring. Obvious winner.

Please. He’ll melt for mine. Jun countered internally, his grey eyes steely with determination, hand resting possessively over the breast pocket holding a thin, antique case. The signed first edition of your favorite poet’s rarest work. Intellectual and romantic. Checkmate, leather-scented brute.

They burst through the front door, nearly tripping over discarded toy trucks and a stuffed dragon in the foyer. The warm, comforting scent of home: vanilla, baby powder, and you, their omega washed over them, momentarily softening their competitive edges. But only momentarily.

You were in the spacious living room, kneeling on the plush rug, trying to coax a giggle from one-year-old Ryo while Sora babbled happily, attempting to stack colorful blocks. You looked up, your eyes lighting with affection, a soft smile gracing your lips. The sight of your bonding mark bearing the distinct, intermingled scars of both their bites on your nape sent their possessive instincts into overdrive.

"Darling!" Akio boomed, striding forward first, already pulling out the velvet box. He ignored Jun’s scoff. "Look what I found! Limited edition, hand-forged by–"

"Babe," Jun smoothly cut in, stepping around Akio with infuriating grace, presenting the antique case with a flourish. "I recalled your admiration for the particular nuance in his early sonnets. This edition has handwritten marginalia believed to be–"

You blinked, looking between the offered treasures, then back at the expectant, fiercely proud faces of your husbands. A flicker of amused exasperation crossed your features.

"Boys," you sighed softly, picking up a drooling Ryo. "They’re both lovely. Truly." You leaned down to kiss Sora’s dark curls.

"Lovely?" Akio’s voice dropped to a possessive rumble, leather scent thickening. He knelt beside you, crowding close. "But mine is stronger. More enduring. Like my claim." His thumb brushed possessively over the bite mark he’d left on your scent gland.

Jun mirrored his action on the other side, kneeling with predatory grace, his whiskey scent sharpening competitively. He traced his bite mark beside Akio’s. "Enduring, perhaps. But mine is deeper. More refined. Like the gift I brought." He nudged the book case towards you. "Admit it, beloved. The thought behind mine is superior."

"Superior?" Akio scoffed, scooping up Sora, his mini-me without breaking eye-contact with Jun. "It’s paper. Mine is platinum! Craftsmanship!"

"Art versus bling, Akio. There’s a distinct difference." Jun’s voice was deceptively calm, but his grey eyes sparked with challenge as he lifted Ryo his grey-haired double, nuzzling the pup’s neck possessively.

Sora chose that moment to whack Akio’s knee with a block. Ryo let out a demanding squeal and munched on Jun's hair, with a harsh tug.