“I’ll prove it.”

Luca lunged under the table.

Darcy skittered back along the floor, but soon ran out of space to run when the wall met his shoulder blades. Luca caged him in beneath the desk, his warm hands tracing Darcy’s hips under the hem of his shirt. Darcy flattened his oversized shirt with trembling hands, batting away Luca’s wandering fingers. A quiet laugh rumbled against his cheek. Darcy jerked his face away with a whimper.

Luca dragged it back by the chin, two fingers pinching almost firm enough to hurt. His face drew in close again. The golden tones of his skin, hair and eyes warmed Darcy’s insides. He squeezed his eyes shut and folded his lips inwards. He couldn’t let Luca being his soul-mate sway the situation - he was angry with him. A handsome face wouldn’t change that. He pried Darcy’s mouth open with sheer force of his tongue, inviting himself inside to play with his roughly.

Darcy used all of his concentration to try and force his body to go limp against him. It only served to Luca’s advantage, though, as his chest bumped against him, knocking Darcy further and further into the ground until he was almost flat. When Luca curled his tongue around his, his knees jolted towards each other and his thighs shivered reflexively. Luca pushed his way between them and moulded their fronts together. A full body tremble ran through Darcy before he could suppress it. It was hopeless. His body was built to respond to his mate’s. Ignoring him would always be an impossibility. Fingertips tickled along the waistband of his trousers, raising goosebumps along the skin of his thighs. Darcy twisted beneath him, struggling against his weight.

He raised his hands from the ground, no longer using them now that he had been pressed flat beneath Luca’s bulk. His palms had no impact against him no matter how hard he pressed them against his broad shoulders. Pushing Luca away while his mate maturity instincts screamed to pull him closer. The open-mouthed kiss became loud, filling the room with indulgent, wet noises. The itch came back to Darcy’s fingers, desperate to sink them lower and feel under Luca’s shirt. The more he fought with himself, the less energy he was putting into fighting Luca. He took the opportunity to claim full control of his mouth.

Darcy melted beneath him.

Staving off your basic instincts was tiring. Darcy soaked up Luca’s dirty affection as he dished it into his mouth directly. Luca ground between his legs gently, coaxing timid noises from him. He was both too hot and not hot enough in equal measure. He wanted to be his temperature, to synchronise himself body and mind with his mate. Perfect soul balance.

When he finally pulled back, Darcy was panting.

“A kiss doesn’t prove anything,” he managed to gasp out.

The steamy, glazed look in Luca’ eyes was blinked away and he fell back onto his heels with a frown. His head almost bumped the tabletop above them.

“What do you want from me?” Luca growled. “How do I convince you? Because I know that MYSTIKA is genuine. I may not be eighteen yet, but…” He gestured to himself with both hands, unable to convey whatever horny teenage boy emotion he was feeling and apparently confusing for mate maturity.

“If you believe I’m your mate, stop making fun of me to anyone who will listen,” Darcy snapped. He really didn’t think it was that wild of a concept to expect someone not to poke at your insecurities if they cared about you. But especially not in public. “You can’t be my bully and claim to be my soul-mate! If you were really my mate you’d-” He snatched his tongue back into his mouth and pinched his lips. He almost hadn’t caught himself, riled up in the heat of the moment, the heat of his mate’s body looming over his.

“I’d what?”

Darcy could barely squeak the words out. Humiliation was burning through his blood and he felt feverish before even opening his mouth.

“You’d protect me from people who pick on me.” He snatched up the collar of his sweater and pulled it up over his face. He never wanted to look Luca in the eyes again. That was one of his most secret desires, for his mate to protect and defend him against all the cruelty of the world. Especially as an omega. A stupid damsel-in distress desire.

But Luca was a bully, and he always would be. If he wanted to change, he would have. Kidding himself would only lead to more hurt. And Darcy already hurt so much.

Luca spoke quietly, “I would never let someone pick on my mate.”

Darcy scoffed without thinking. “You pick on me,” he said, dropping his collar slightly to pull a face at him over it. Forgetting, momentarily, that in the lie he was living within, he was supposed to be unconvinced that they were mates.

Luca’s face pinched. Darcy scrunched his nose in return. It was meant to be a rude gesture. A tiny smile tickled at Luca’s mouth.

“I tease you,” he said slowly. “There’s a difference.”

“Is that what you were doing before?”

“Before, in the hall?”

“You know the before I’m talking about,” Darcy whispered with barely contained fury. Playing the fool did not look good on Luca, and it only frustrated Darcy.

His eyes flicked away uncomfortably. “I don’t want to talk about… before,” Luca admitted.

“But there’s no difference between before and now,” he said. “That’s the problem.”

“If you don’t like something, then say it.”

Darcy collated his last drops of courage to reply, “I’m telling you now.” His voice somehow managed to stay stern.

“No, I mean at the time,” Luca said with an eye-roll. “Tell me to fuck off or something.”

Darcy froze, his eyebrows raised to the heavens. When he finally found where he had left his tongue (unfortunately, not in Luca’s mouth) he sputtered out, “You would kill me. Or your goons would.”

“I won’t,” Luca groaned. Apparently he was as tired of this argument as Darcy was, despite not having nearly as much reason to be frustrated. In Darcy’s opinion, anyway. “You’ve proved you can be sassy, and you can yell at me-”

“That has only happened when we were alone and you really wound me up! I can’t do that in public.” Darcy shook his head with exasperation. “Because nothing is different between us in public. Even since MYSTIKA you’ve only changed in private with me.”

“We’ve agreed it now, right? So it will change, because you’ll stick up for yourself.”

“Our last agreement fell apart quicker than a jenga tower,” he reminded him. “Why should I trust this one?”

“Because this isn’t just a competition or a trade. It’s forever. You’ll stick up for yourself from now on.”

“I’ll stick up for myself and you’ll get ten times worse,” he assured him with a sigh. “You hate when people challenge you.”

“Yeah,” Luca chuckled to himself. “But… you’re an exception.”

Darcy hated how much he loved those last three words.

“Okay,” he mumbled. It took him a moment to steel himself for his first attempt at what Luca was calling ‘sticking up for himself’. “Okay, then fuck off.”

“Right now?”

“Yep, leave me alone.”

He scoffed, full of mirth, and shook his head. “Fine, if that’s what you want.” He shuffled backwards and pulled himself up by the edge of the table.

Once he had taken a few steps away, Darcy blurted, “I’ve changed my mind.”

Luca’s laugh echoed through the room before he dipped back down to peer under the tabletop.

“Actually no,” he said with an extra helping of attitude. “Your face grossed me out. Go away again.”

He pitched forward, landing on his hands and knees on the floor, hanging his head as he laughed delightfully. “I can’t believe an omega is saying this to me.” He kept laughing, harder. It began to prickle Darcy with anxiety. It reminded him of cartoon villains.

“You’re laughing too much,” he complained. “It’s making me nervous, like you’re about to have a psychotic break and murder me.”

“So King Darcy’s next order is to stop laughing?”

“No, it’s still to get out.”

“Your wish is my command, your highness.”

And his command was obeyed. Luca closed the classroom door behind him with a click that could be heard from Darcy’s hiding corner.

Darcy drew his knees up to his chin and counted to fifty. More than enough time for Luca to scram. After crawling out from under the table, he shuffled to the door and peeked out. No sign of him. He slipped out and had a Luca-free afternoon. It was both blissful and anxiety-inducing. His mind was glad to be putting that distance between them. His body missed his touch, his scent, his voice.

And who knew what was to come next. It seemed that regardless of any progress he thought he was making, nothing ever really changed. A leopard couldn’t change its spots and neither could a wolf its fur.