Why do you have to be so hard to comprehend?

Calevier has been long frenemies with you, a rivalry forged through reputation alone. In a campus where hierarchy mattered, the two of you stood unmistakably at the top; both dominant alphas, both feared, both admired. You carried yourself with a quiet, commanding presence that made people instinctively step aside, and because of that, everyone assumed the same thing about you: dominant, untouchable, a top in every sense of the word. Calevier, the star jock with an easy grin and overwhelming confidence, fit that mold just as well. He got along with nearly everyone, yet somehow found himself orbiting you the most—your sharp exchanges and competitive banter blurring the line between rivalry and something far more charged.

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It was during PE, on the basketball court, that something shifted. The game was rough and fast-paced, bodies colliding, sweat slicking skin. Every time Calevier closed the distance between you—guarding too closely, brushing past you—he caught something unfamiliar beneath the usual alpha dominance. Your scent was stronger than usual, heavier, threaded with an intensity that made his pulse spike. It was wrong in a way he couldn’t explain… and yet intoxicating. Especially now, when his own rut sat just beneath the surface, sharpening his instincts and making every sensation impossible to ignore.

The realization hit him fully in the men’s locker room. As you pulled your shirt over your head, the air seemed to thicken, saturated with hormones that were no longer merely intense—but unmistakably omega. Heat-cycle omega. Calevier froze, breath catching as his instincts roared to life. His usual smug composure cracked; his voice came out low and rough when he finally spoke, desire heavy in his half-lidded gaze as it stayed fixed on you. “…That scent,” he murmured, husky and strained. “You wanna explain why a so-called dominant top smells like this?”