I am OBSESSED! With Omegaverse. To feed my undying need for this AU, here's an unconventional RokuSora oneshot for it. I have so many WIPs lying around! Summer classes have begun too, woe~

Happy November!


Oneshot 4: No Place Like Home

Summary: And they said crossing an alpha was scary. Omegaverse AU; warning for pissy omega!Sora and crazy apartment neighbours.


If you asked Roxas what happened to him today, he never would have thought, "almost being crushed by a falling tuba" would be one of his replies.

And that isn't even the end of it.

Five minutes later, after making sure that he is, in fact, not seeing things and that raining brass instruments are out to get him, a plastic basin falls from the sky. It lands not far from the tuba, one-quarter of it scattering by the sidewalk in splinters and the other three-quarters surprisingly intact.

Then he hears the words, "WHY DO I OWN SO MANY YELLOW THINGS!" from a very angry, male-sounding person from above.

.

.

.

Bollocks.

One object is crazy enough. Another random falling thing plotting his death is getting ridiculous.

He takes a step back and looks up at his residential apartment building, pursing his lips as he tries to locate the source.

Mmm. He can't really tell. There are several other windows open from different floors, and he isn't keen to stay around and wait for another piece of furniture to knock him out. Judging from the dents on the malleable tuba and the immediate smashing of the basin upon ground impact... he could say his attacker must live pretty high up.

What are the chances they lived at the 21st floor like he does?

Chalking it up as someone who was simply having a terrible day, Roxas approaches the double glass doors of the building, scanning his keycard at the lockbox before passing through. The patrolling garbage man is going to clean the sidewalk up, so he need not worry about the unnecessary obstruction. There isn't any mail in his mailbox save for a few advertisement flyers, so he takes those and mentally reminds himself to drop them off at the recycling.

Ooh! His local supermarket has a discount on eggs! Last time he checked the fridge, he only had one or two left. He'll go shopping before dinner, then. That, and take a damn shower. He did just come from an excursion, so he needs to wash out all the external scents on his skin and get a little bit of sleep in.

Halfway through his elevator ride, a woman and her man from the 10th floor stop and ask to enter. They look completely knackered. The pink-haired man is shamelessly peppered with lipstick kisses, and the woman's tousled hair needs a makeover. She glares at him with displeasure when she catches him staring, green eyes bleeding into a reddish hue.

Great. She's an alpha. A very possessive alpha too. And her man very clearly smelled of beta.

It's just too bad Roxas is unaffected by her wordless act of dominance because he's an alpha himself.

"Is this going up, or down? Spit it out 'cause we haven't got all day," she slurs. The man clinging on to her tickles her neck and she cackles.

"Up. If you want to go to the ground floor you're gonna have to take another elevator."

The woman shrugs. "Told ya we should have waited at the other one, hun! Now we gotta walk again! Kay, thanks blondie." The two of them let him go, Roxas pursing his lips yet again at the peculiar encounter.

Ugh.

.

.

Roxas wants to say that his neighbours are cool, but heck would he be lying. He lives in the most mental apartment complex at downtown Traverse. It housed almost seventy people, is surprisingly affordable in terms of rent and is the closest one to his university. He's been a resident for about for three years, so it's sort of tragic to think he's gotten used to all the random daily encounters. Everytime he sees another alpha smearing cake on the corridor walls or a beta screaming like hell in the ELEVATOR for god's sakes, the blue-eyed blonde has to remind himself that hey, calm down, once he's finished with his degree he is moving BACK HOME for all he cared.

Good thing he has a few companions that keep him from making his decision to get on the next flight to Twilight every passing day. The guy in Room 21-5 next to his— Luxord, was it? He's an old war veteran who spends most of his days playing Solitaire by himself. Sometimes he and Roxas verse each other in whatever card-based game the alpha man felt like playing, and whenever he left for a trip, Roxas would offer to watch his place out of courtesy. Two floors down, his university friend Olette would invite him for movie nights and study sessions whenever he was up for it. She's a great cook— better than himself, definitely, and he loves coming over to try out the beta girl's latest experimental recipe.

It also maybe helped that there is a cute brown-haired omega named Sora living at the 23rd floor. Roxas has seen him a few times in the elevators, but they don't say much to each other other than the occasional hello. He'd only moved into the complex recently.

From his own (not stalking!) observations, Roxas knows that the boy's doing a part-time at their local supermarket managing stock and boxes. He seems friendly, and has the brightest pair of blue eyes he's ever seen. The blonde's not sure if the former is taking Hospitality or Tourism but he's seen Sora exiting the building in a tuxedo many a time. He sort of wants to ask him about it.

Roxas had the chance to when they'd both been at the laundry room last week, but he was so distracted with sorting his whites from his colours that he... forgot, somehow. Olette was there too and she had laughed at how he'd handled the situation, claiming that his memory of the event wasn't what she'd witnessed.

"You like him," she pointed out once the guy had left and Roxas could finally move after being frozen on the spot.

"I do not."

She rolled her eyes. "Why else would you choose to use the closest washing machine to his? There are plenty of washing machines around, Mr "I-Hate-Everyone-In-This-Building-I'd-Rather-Have-Nothing-To-Do-With-Them?""

"Shut up. It's just a freaking washing machine," he blushed, his alpha red eyes returning to their original blue colour. "It has nothing to do with anything."

"You keep telling yourself that, Roxas. It's not weird to be attracted to someone, you puritan. Oooh! I dare you to ask him out when he returns."

"No way."

"Yes way. Otherwise I'll ask him out. And I can do that, so don't tell me otherwise. Who's it gonna be? You or me?"

Thankfully, she hadn't followed through with that just yet. Olette reckons the reason why he's so hung up about this adorable stranger is because Roxas is highkey CRUSHING on him.

Haha, yeah right. That's such a typical and cliché story. Not everyone he encounters and happens to be curious about has to be someone he wants to court and just because he sort of wants to know things about the boy, it doesn't mean that Roxas would be daydreaming about taking him on a date and maybe wanting to share a few kisses with him and cuddle with him when it's cold or whisper sweet nothings to him at the dead of the night and—

...Mmm.

No.

Olette is wrong. And he isn't chicken to start a conversation with the cute omega either.

At the ding of the elevator, the blonde walks out and fumbles through his pocket for the keys. It's barely two pm, but already he's looking forward to crashing on the couch and putting on some tunes to make him fall asleep. He shuts his apartment door and locks it, steps out of his shoes and leaves his bag by the table near the entrance. He forgot to put down the blinds before he left, so it's bright in the room and he has a view of the building opposite theirs.

He fancies himself a glass of chocolate milk before sleeping the afternoon away. Whistling, Roxas tarries towards the fridge, grabs himself the jug of milk and the chocolate sauce sitting where he'd left it that morning. As he was mixing his drink, something from the window over the dining room catches the corner of his eye and he looks up. He almost missed it too. That couldn't have been a backpack full of flying toilet paper, right?

His angry, yellow-hating neighbour is at it again, it seems. Out of concern, the blonde thinks about opening the window and asking the person what's wrong, but it isn't smart, communicating through their windows like that. Does Roxas want to get knocked out by a falling chair or whatever the heck the guy's going to throw next?

He sips his milk contemplatively. That backpack. He could have sworn he'd seen Sora with it. It's an ordinary backpack, but against the blues and blacks Sora likes to wear, it heavily stands out. Suddenly he feels his face pale and Roxas abandons his drink on the counter, fast-walking towards the door and hopping into his shoes. Chicken or not, if something happens to Sora, he'd be damned if he doesn't do something about it.


"Hello? Sora Leonhart?" Roxas knocks on Sora's apartment door, grimacing a bit. He's not on first-name terms with the brunette. Isn't on anything-terms with him, for that matter. Roxas had just upped and left his room, rushed to the elevator and agitatedly spammed the 23rd button. Crap. What is he doing? Which room is Sora's again? Then he remembers: the bag had fallen directly above his apartment. 23-6, then. God, it'll be so awkward if he gets this wrong.

When he doesn't get a response, he knocks again. Nervously. Maybe Roxas should leave. This is too much for an afternoon he intended to spend resting. He hears grumbling beyond the door, the sound getting closer and closer until he steps back and waits for it to open.

Sora Leonhart is in a white shirt and jeans. His hair is dishevelled, and in his right hand he holds the neck of a broom. He nonchalantly blinks back at Roxas, amber eyes fading to blue. "Oh hi. You're Roxas Strife, yeah?"

Roxas slowly nods, "Err, that would be me. And you're Sora?"

"Yep. We've never really talked before, but I see you around sometimes. You're one of Olette's friends?"

"Uhh, yes."

The brunette leans against the door, grinning. "Cool. She and I are first cousins. She was the one who invited me to this area, you know. It's pretty great."

.

.

That... traitor! She didn't say anything about that! How could she hide this from him?! What the heck, she could have saved him the trouble by introducing the both of them and maybe they would have been friends earlier. Ack!

Biting the inside of his cheek, Roxas steels himself and asks about why he's there in the first place. "Are... Are you okay? I was— I was just checking, you seemed super angry, what with throwing a tuba and a basin and one of your favourite backpacks out the window. Are you in trouble or something, is someone there with you?"

Roxas could have peeked inside to check for any discrepancies, but Sora is standing right HERE. It's rude, and now that they are having a pretty lame conversation, he reckons Sora probably isn't in trouble otherwise he wouldn't be with him. Hopefully he isn't. What is happening then? Some sort of renovation? But why throw things out the window? That's so extreme!

"Oh." Sora makes a clicking sound with his mouth. Roxas must have triggered something because the brunette turns around, forgetting about him and resuming his... cleaning. Excusing himself, Roxas steps in and follows him through the hallway. The place looks roughly the same as his, save for the scattered furniture and the yellow-and-blue theme going on. It also heavily smells of lilies and Sora's own scent. Indeed, one of the dining room windows is opened up fully, and there's a yellow t-shirt hanging along the sill. There are strewn yellow curtains and blankets and sofa pillows on the carpeted floor, the dining table and its chairs and the couch and the coffee table all circling the cushioned area.

"I just don't understand! Why do I own so many yellow things? I hate the colour YELLOW! It doesn't belong HERE!" He faces Roxas with the broom raised up and grumbles, irises a deep saffron colour.

Ahh. Who would have known?

Whenever their moods are heightened, an omega, beta or alpha's eye colour changes to either yellow, violet or red. Today isn't one of Sora's good days. Roxas knows about an omega's tendency to nest or renovate, but he's never seen it in action. When he himself is agitated, the blonde takes several showers, sometimes immediately again after finishing and dressing up.

That explains the random tossing of items out the window. It's a weird, primal habit of theirs.

Roxas approaches the brunette carefully, hoping to de-arm him of the broom before Sora destroys something or hits him with it. "Yes, the colour yellow doesn't belong here," he repeats. "Would you like me to get rid of all the yellow items?"

"NO! I'll do it myself!" Sora yells back. "It's going to take all day! Everything I own has yellow! Even my favourite alarm clock and ceramic plates have yellow! But it betrayed ME! I was just walking to my room... then I tripped on my blanket! It's all Yellow's fault!" To emphasize his extreme hatred for the colour, Sora hurls the broom across the apartment. It doesn't go very far and hits the back end of the kitchen counter, just missing Roxas.

"Woah! Calm down! I can help you, Sora. You can sit down and rest and I'll make all the yellow items disappear."

"NO!"

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.

.

What is Roxas supposed to DO? He's in a room with a hostile omega, and if he doesn't handle it calmly and Sora scents him in his territory he'll be identified as an intruder and attacked. He should have never entered, should have never pried and left Sora alone with his moods. Roxas doesn't want to run in case the sudden movement compels the boy to chase after him and beat him down. The apartment door suddenly seems so far...

"Alright. Is there something I can do, then? How about I put on some music? " he asks once more. "Will you let me do that? I have some good songs on my phone."

The message seems to be getting to him because Sora doesn't yell a third time. "I like rock music. Just don't play anything too loud and we're good." Then he looks at the yellow curtain and mechanically drags it over to the window.

"Sora, no." Roxas berates. "We can't throw things out the window. We put them in a rubbish bag and take them outside. Hand it here."

Oh god, he said that too firmly! Did his alpha senses kick in? Sora's shooting him annoyed looks right now! Roxas doesn't know what's more terrifying: a calmly seething brunette or a rowdy, tantrum-throwing one. The former is making him sweat profusely under his clothes.

"Do not tell me what to do, damn it," the amber-eyed male mutters through his teeth. "Yellow deserves to be eradicated in the worst way possible. Cross me again and I'll throw you out the window too. You understand?"

"Sora, there are people at the bottom of the building. If you hurt them, you'll get in trouble and be evicted. Don't."

"Sure, because a curtain is going to hurt them. The horror." Despite the sarcasm, the omega complies and stalks off haughtily, dropping the pineapple-printed curtain. When he returns, he's got a black trash bag with him, kneeling on the floor to stuff his yellow items in. Roxas takes that opportunity to shut the window. God, his scent is all over the place. Angry or not, Sora still smells really nice.

"Okay," Roxas starts, "I'm going to sit down on this highchair and play you some music. I won't interrupt your cleaning, but you cannot throw anything out the window. Tell me if you need help with something. Otherwise, I'll just keep you company."

"Fine. Better not fall asleep or you might end up dead."

"E-Excuse m-me?"

Sora evilly laughs at the remark. "I'm kidding."

~o~

The rest of the hour is spent in ambient silence. They both listen to the music playing from Roxas' phone, the blonde in question drumming on the counter or occasionally looking over at what Sora is doing. The brunette doesn't reorganize his scattered furniture. The only new thing he does is hoard every yellow item he owns in three separate black bags and lay down two blue comforters where the yellow blankets and curtains used to be. It's like a small comfortable pillow fort.

"What do you think?" Sora inquires moments later, his non-omegan self returning as his eyes bleed into blue. "Do you like my new apartment?"

Roxas scans the place thoughtfully. "I-It's nice. You even have the television in your line of sight."

Sora grunts, displeased. "Don't lie to me. I hate it when people lie. You probably think it looks rubbish deep down and oh, this isn't how people should renovate! You're just trying to be polite!"

"I'm not! I really think it looks good!" he asserts. What did he sign himself up for? Sora's so quick-tempered! Could he really court someone so unlike himself? Roxas doesn't like conflict, and he isn't good with trying situations. Whoever heard of an alpha whose first instinct is to flee rather than fight, goddamnit! That, and from studying him now, it seems Sora is his complete opposite. Dandy!

...Well, it's not like Roxas is thinking about courting the brunette, because he ISN'T, but man he's got his work cut out for him if he wants to get to know Sora better.

The aforementioned omega speaks up again after a minute or two, seeking him out from the highchair by the hand. "Come test it."

"W-What?"

"You look tired. And bored. As thanks for your company, I want you to test my super awesome bed-thing! I even put a bowl nearby for snack refills." This time, Sora is more calm, and the last traces of yellow in his eyes are fading away. His hand is surprisingly cold for someone who'd spent the hour grumbling and complaining.

"Are you sure? You seem done, so I should probably be getting back. I don't want to intrude further." Does Sora know the implications of inviting him to his fort? That was a surefire way to let someone know they were interested.

Like the stubborn individual he is, the brunette insists he try it. They both sit down on the blankets, Sora leaning back on the lined-up pillows. Roxas remains quiet.

"Come on. Tell me how it is."

"It's wide but cozy. Do you like having a lot of space?" the blonde points out, mentally smacking himself. Seriously?

"It's big enough for two, duh. So now you can come over sometime." Yawning, Sora turns towards him. "I'm... really glad... you finally visited. Don't think you can hide the fact that you like me because I know. I'm on speaking terms with Olette. Not to mention your eyes are constantly crimson-coloured when I'm around. I wouldn't have known that blue was your natural colour."

"Y-You're pretty confident, aren't you?" the blonde mocks, lying down also. Sora really is cute; even more so up close with his... dark-brown lashes framing his eyes and the... line of freckles littered across both tanned cheeks. Roxas can feel his own heart beat unsteadily in his chest— gee, he really can't fight the attraction when it strikes.

"More than you. Figures you'd call me out on my cleaning habit, though." The brunette quiets down, saying no more until he slowly falls asleep in his position with his hand still holding Roxas'.

.

.

.

Well then. Roxas is done here. He really should be getting back and hopefully go buy something for dinner but the less rational, easily swayed part of him wants to stay over and sleep next to the defenseless boy.

Screw it. Both he and Sora has had a full-on day, what with him almost being killed by falling objects, assaulted by an angry brunette and said boy being out of his usual self. He just had to catch Sora during a bad time, huh... He'll deal with the consequences and dinner and Olette's betrayal later, and sure, he's found himself in a freaking weird situation and an even more peculiar friend-slash-potential partner but he really couldn't care less.

Maybe he won't leave for Twilight for the inter-trimester break next week. He can tell his parents that he had... plans, or something rather.

Breathing in once and scooting closer to the brunette, Roxas drapes his other arm around the sleeping omega and tiredly closes his eyes too.