High society is a mess of rumors and rubbish. Suguru knows that, he’s aware of that. Every lord and lady who pretends to be something they aren’t, every mama who pushes her omega child into the ton and hopes for the best each season. This is Suguru’s first season, and he would be the most unhappiest if he were to marry any baron who only wants to wet his wick and leave.

So of course, he plays it smart and fills his dance card with fake names to avoid any callers. The only dances he actually enjoys are Satoru’s, the only courtship he’s ever accepted was Satoru’s. The only alpha Suguru could take strolls with, speak with, laugh about the absurdity of this season with. Satoru has always been his friend, his confidant. Suguru supposes that’s what makes the base of a love match. Finding his best friend in a man.

“I’d forgotten.” Suguru defends, his mother tells him something he dares not entertain. Satoru is a prince, and he just an omega who’s graceful enough to be from a family of nobility. They almost hadn’t made it in society, what right does Suguru have to believe a prince would ask his hand? “Perish the thought, mother.” He has the habit of saying the first thing on his mind.

Suguru of course has thought of that, but he refuses to accept it because he isn’t like the other unmarried omegas of the season. Suguru isn’t looking for a husband with the highest honor or wealth, he’s looking for his best friend to put a ring on his finger. And when Satoru does the entirety of the country is shocked. How an omega, one as smart and opinionated as Suguru managed a husband of such status is beyond their comprehension.

Somewhere along the way everyone gets a glimpse of how besotted Satoru is, if anyone were to eavesdrop upon them they would believe Suguru had bewitched him. The halls are filled with laughter and debate and love, so much that the servants tire of it. “Your mother had how many you say?” Suguru laughs, resting his head on Satoru’s chest, comfortable and warm.