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In hindsight, if Satoru were to trace everything back to the beginning, it all started a random Thursday afternoon at the balenciaga store in Shibuya where Satoru had gone to cheer himself up with some shopping after a spectacularly horrendous day. Of course, one could trace things back even further if one wanted to, all the way back to his spoilt childhood spent getting everything he wanted with the flick of a finger, but that would be a bit like going back to the Neolithic revolution to explain the medieval crusades conducted by pope Innocent III. It was absolutely possible, and would paint a more detailed picture of European history, but was it really necessary?
The point is that Satoru swipes his black card like he always does, expecting the purchase to go through, only for the card reader to beep angrily as his card declines. After a horribly embarrassing phone call with his mother, during which she proclaims that he is 24 and far too old to be mooching off of the clan’s money, right in front of the entire store, Satoru storms out empty handed and in an even fouler mood than before.
He expects everything to blow over in a few days as his mother gets over this silly idea about getting a job, but when the weeks pass and his account stays stuck on the same amount, Satoru starts growing weary. He tries calling his dad but he only echoes his mother’s words, and Suguru is no help at all, solemnly declaring that perhaps Satoru’s mother is right and it is time for him to start earning his own money.
Satoru seethes with this unfair and heartless response, refusing to talk to his best friend for a week, which is the longest fight they’ve had in years. Eventually though, the utility bills of the month drop into his mailbox and Satoru has no choice but to crawl back with his tail between his legs, begging to move into Suguru’s apartment until he gets a job.
Suguru is more hesitant than Satoru initially expected, which hurts more than he’d like to admit, but when Satoru starts wailing about becoming homeless, pulling off a double attack with fake tears and big puppy eyes, Suguru yields much like he always does.
Satoru moves in the next day.
Suguru’s apartment is further from university than Satoru’s, and it’s smaller, but he has a living room with a couch that’s soft enough for Satoru to sleep on, at least for now. It smells strongly of alpha pheromones, the scent of incense and pine potent in the air since he, like most normal people, doesn't wear inhibitor patches at home. Satoru must admit that it shocks him a little at first. Personally he is the type to roll out of bed, brush his teeth while he’s still half-asleep and only realise when he’s already in school that he forgot scentblockers. Suguru has been nagging him about this bad habit for years, but Satoru simply doesn’t remember such things in the morning, and to be honest, he doesn’t feel like it’s that big of a deal. He’s heard people describe his pheromones as unusually light, and he’s not the type of overbearing, territorial alpha who feels the need to stink up a place every time he sees an omega. Besides, it’s 2025, and the idea that omegas can’t control themselves around an alpha’s scent is both outdated and offensive as he proudly tells Suguru who only grunts in response, as if he can somehow sense that Satoru googled it last night while looking for things to support his arguments following a very lengthy discussion on the topic. But after that he stops nagging Satoru about wearing scent patches.
Suguru on the other hand is incredibly careful about always covering his scent up. Being a poor university student working a part time job at a coffee shop, he can of course only afford the over-the-counter variety, so when he gets upset or happy, Satoru sometimes gets a whiff of his pheromones, carrying a deep and spicy scent of sandalwood and smoke. It’s always subdued though, so when Satoru steps foot inside the apartment for the first time, a duffel bag filled with clothes and other essentials slung over his shoulder, he stops dead in the hallway, his eyes wide in surprise as Suguru’s scent assaults him from every direction.
He hadn’t expected it to be this powerful, this all-consuming, and he wonders if this is what he smells like to Suguru.
“I’m sorry” Suguru mutters sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I tried airing the place out, and I washed everything that could be washed, but it’ll be at least a couple of days until it’s completely gone”
“It’s fine” Satoru says dimly, blinking as he tries to break out of his stupor. He’s not lying; most alphas smell terrible to him but Suguru smells… different. He smells pretty damn nice actually, not as sweet or light as an omega, but elegant and refined in his own way. It’s not too bad, and while it’s a lot, Satoru’s inner alpha only stirs a little at the smell of claimed territory before calming down again. He doesn’t feel threatened, and he doesn’t feel the need to scent every piece of furniture, so that’s a good start. “I was just surprised since, you know… you usually wear scent blockers”
Suguru still looks a little uncomfortable, like he’s imposing on Satoru instead of the other way around, so Satoru puts what he hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder and uses his serious voice.
“Really Suguru, it’s fine” he says. “It’s your apartment for God’s sake! And I’ll probably stink it up with my own pheromones in no time, you know how I am with scent blockers. And I’m honestly not bothered by it anyways”
Suguru shoots him a doubtful look but his shoulders sag a little as he relaxes, and he does look a little less guarded.
“If you’re sure” he says and Satoru nods eagerly. “Because, well… you’re not supposed to wear these scent blockers for more than ten hours at a time so I can’t really wear them at home”
Satoru playfully elbows him to wordlessly express that it’s cool, they’re fine, and Suguru is taking things a bit too seriously as always, and Suguru punches his arm in return. The tension dissipates between them and Satoru casually saunters into the living room, dumping his bag on the floor. Suguru, bless his heart, has already laid out bed sheets on the sofa and provided him with a blanket and a pillow.
Satoru grins to himself. As expected, Suguru is the best roommate ever. Maybe he should just never move out.
There’s a sharp pain to his temple as Suguru flicks his forehead. Satoru yelps and rubs the sore skin, glaring daggers at Suguru.
“What the hell was that for?” he mutters angrily and Suguru rolls his eyes.
“I could hear what you were thinking” Suguru says, scoffing when Satoru widens his eyes to imitate something innocent and harmless, like a hamster. “And don’t give me that look, it won’t work. You’re moving out once you get a job”
Satoru sticks his tongue out at Suguru’s back as Suguru goes into the kitchen to start preparing lunch, but he doesn’t protest. They’ve been best friends since high school, inseparable through thick and thin, but this time, Satoru is undeniably imposing on Suguru’s hospitality in a whole new way. Suguru was there for Satoru during his first (short-lived) relationship, the following breakup three weeks later, his digimon phase (long-lived) and the myriad of stupid high jinks Satoru got up to all throughout his teen years. In turn, Satoru was there for Suguru through his depressive episodes, he was there when he discovered grunge and metal and started stretching his ears, and he was there when Suguru finally presented, later than most.
They’re as close as two people can be, and the selfish part of Satoru, the part of him that’s so used to relying on Suguru for everything, isn’t even all that surprised that Suguru’s opened his home for him. He’ll even go as far as to say that he’s excited about being roommates, because now they’ll get to hang out every day, he’ll get to eat Suguru’s delicious home cooked meals and have company on the way to university.
Still, Satoru knows that it can’t be a permanent solution. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been friends, or how close they are, they are both alphas and eventually, when one of their ruts arrive, they risk clashing. Since reaching adulthood, neither of them have been particularly territorial around each other, comfortable enough with their secondary gender that they never felt the need to battle for dominance, but ruts are different. They’re intense, and Satoru has heard of family members nearly tearing each other’s throats out due to clashing during a rut. Satoru can’t imagine ever doing that to Suguru, not since he grew out of his rebellious teenage phase when they constantly butted heads over everything and nothing, but he’s also never spent his rut in such a close proximity to another alpha.
It will be fine, Satoru thinks as he starts unpacking, folding his clothes and putting them into the small drawer that Suguru has cleared out for him (once again, bless his heart). If he’s lucky, he’ll get a job before Suguru’s rut starts. Both of them have always been regular, and if Satoru remembers correctly, Suguru’s next rut is in a month. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a job until then, right?
From the kitchen, Satoru can hear the slamming of cabinets and the jangling of pans, along with a quiet humming as Suguru sings to himself while he cooks. Satoru can’t really imagine Suguru in rut. Suguru is usually quite calm and composed, never one to aggressively assert his dominance, at least not since Satoru matured and stopped provoking him.
Back in high school Satoru was absolutely impossible, teasing, poking and prodding at Suguru every chance he got, never satisfied unless Suguru gave him his undivided attention. He got under Suguru’s skin like no one else, and it usually didn’t take more than a few jabs before Suguru’s scent flared, angry and dominating, his pretty eyes sparkling with rage, sending Satoru’s blood singing. But Satoru has grown up since then, and these days he rarely sees that side of Suguru anymore. Will it spring forth once his rut approaches? Will Suguru grow agitated like he used to when Satoru teased him, will he try to force Satoru into submission like he did back when they were young and Satoru consciously pissed him off just to get his attention?
Satoru wonders if Suguru spends his ruts alone or with an omega. He guesses it’s the latter, since Suguru’s never really shown any great interest in omegas. Satoru had a brief period in high school during which he was, but after his first (and so far only) relationship, he realised that chasing after omegas took away from his time with Suguru, so it didn’t really seem worth it.
Suguru takes care of Satoru way better than any omega ever could, so why should he waste his time chasing random strangers? The ruts are hard to spend alone but not impossible, and the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks. Satoru can take a couple of days of discomfort every four months if it means he gets to monopolise Suguru’s attention.
There’s a sizzling sound as something hits the pan, and the wonderful fragrance of garlic wafts out of the kitchen. Satoru can’t help but mourn the fact that he won’t get to spend his rut here, pampered by Suguru who can feed him delicious meals instead of the cup ramen he usually lives off during his ruts.
Satoru closes the drawer once he’s done folding his clothes, unpacking the rest of his stuff as the cogs in his brain keep turning. It’s not like he’s never thought about Suguru’s rut before, of course he has, but his interest burns brighter now that they’re living together. Suguru’s scent probably gets more powerful, laced with a sweet, or perhaps spicy undertone. Does he use toys? Satoru used to have a fleshlight but since it broke he’s been relying on his fingers, too lazy and forgetful to order a new one. A couple of months ago, when Satoru mentioned it, Suguru thought it hilarious to buy him a large, purple dildo, but obviously Satoru has never used it. It lies at the very bottom of his duffel bag, Satoru having accidentally packed it when he mindlessly shoved his stuff into it. Satoru will throw it away tomorrow on his way to class. It’s about time he got rid of it, it’s not like he’s ever going to use it.
He really should buy himself a new fleshlight though. Fucking his fist isn’t bad, but it doesn’t quite measure up to the feeling of a hole squeezing him, artificial or not. Or should he get himself a heat partner?
Satoru frowns to himself, surprisingly put off by the idea. Hugging Suguru with the scent of omega clinging to him, with another person’s claim sticking to his skin… what if Suguru smells it? What if Suguru likes it? Something sour rises in Satoru’s throat and he swallows it back down. As far as Satoru knows, Suguru has never had a partner, he might as well be asexual, so there’s no way he’d be enticed by the scent of a random omega.
Still, Satoru decides against the idea of finding a heat partner. He can’t risk having Suguru stolen from him, even if the risk is small. He’ll just have to find a really good toy.
He’s broken out of his strange reverie by Suguru popping his head through the door.
“Spicy or not spicy?” he asks and Satoru stands up, walking into the kitchen.
“What are you making?” Satoru asks as Suguru returns to chopping vegetables, and he’s unable to resist sliding a little bit closer. Suguru’s natural scent mixes with the smell of garlic and spices and it smells homely, it smells safe, and he inhales large mouthfuls of it.
“Curry” Suguru mumbles over his shoulder, reaching over to stir the garlic before it burns.
“Not spicy then” Satoru decides and Suguru mimics a salute.
“I’m making a big batch so I can bring the leftovers for lunch tomorrow” Suguru explains as he tosses chopped onion into the pan. “Do you also want a portion?”
Satoru jumps up on the counter, dangling his legs as he watches Suguru work next to him.
“Yes please” he says, and Suguru nods as he stirs the onion. Satoru can’t help but laugh, the itch to tease Suguru rising like a tidal wave inside of him. “Look at you. The perfect alpha, providing for me and all. Is there anything you’re not good at?”
Suguru stiffens slightly, his eyes momentarily widening in a way that has Satoru worrying he’s crossed a line, but then he relaxes, glaring half-heartedly in Satoru’s direction.
“Next time, you’re cooking” he says, stopping to think for a second before continuing. “Actually, scratch that. You’re not, under any circumstances, allowed near the kitchen. If I catch you in here unsupervised, I will call the police”
Satoru playfully makes a pained sound, dramatically swaying back and forth like he’s a wounded Chinese soldier killed during the Mongol quest of China.
“The police?” he wails, clutching his chest like he’s been shot. “You’d turn in your best friend?”
Suguru feigns a disdainful look, though Satoru can of course see the twitch in his lips, a tell-tale sign that he’s fighting peals of laughter.
“Not just the police” he says sternly, cutting the chicken into bite-size pieces. “I’ll call the pope and the president too. And the Geneva conventions”
“You can’t call the Geneva conventions”
Suguru sends Satoru a meaningful look.
“I can and I will” he threatens, pointing the knife at Satoru like a weapon. “So stay out of the kitchen okay?”
Satoru nods seriously, making a cross-sign over his chest before kissing his fingers.
“In the name of the holy Pope” he promises solemnly and Suguru finally cracks, doubling over as he laughs so hard that he starts coughing. It wasn't even a funny joke and still, Satoru can't help but join him, infected as always by Suguru’s warm, bubbling laughter.
“You’re so full of shit” Suguru wheezes, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles brighter than the sun, his warmth seeping through Satoru’s body, all the way out to his fingertips.
Satoru grins, not bothering to deny the statement.
This is good.
The sun is shining, the kitchen smells of Suguru’s pheromones and melting onion, and his stomach is cramping from laughing. Something soft is glowing at the pit of his guts, a sense of pride at making Suguru smile like that, a sense of accomplishment from being showered in his attention.
As far as being flatmates goes, they’re off to a good start.
What could possibly go wrong?
Satoru gets the answer exactly one week later when he comes home from a lecture wet, tired and angry. The morning has been awful from start to finish; first, he slept through his alarm, waking up ten minutes before the bus left, and it was only when running his fastest that he managed to catch it, leaving him sweaty and irritated the entire bus ride. Upon arriving at uni, things only got worse as it turned out that the lecture had been cancelled, something that the professor announced ten minutes before it was supposed to start. And to make matters worse, like a final little bow on top of the pile of shit that is today, it starts raining on the way home.
Not a light drizzle either, but a heavy downpour that could be pictured in a dictionary as the definition of ‘raining cats and dogs’, and Satoru is soaked from head to toe when he finally makes it home.
He kicks the door open, too angry to bother yelling out a hello, tossing his bag on the floor before peeling his wet jacket off. The day has been horrible and all he wants to do is have a hot shower and get cozy on the couch, maybe play some video games with Suguru. He’s definitely not studying, that’s for sure.
Still seething, and too preoccupied with his own angry thoughts to notice that the pitter-patter sound of running water isn’t coming from the rain outside, Satoru opens the door to the bathroom.
He promptly freezes.
The shower is on, water spraying down Suguru’s naked back. His long, black hair is plastered to his glistening skin, the muscles of his arm flexing as he leans against the wall for support. His eyes are closed and he grunts softly as he works his free hand up and down his cock, completely oblivious to Satoru’s shellshocked form in the doorway.
Satoru should close the door and leave immediately, but he hasn’t seen Suguru naked since they had gym class together in high school, and his eyes move downwards before he can gather the presence of mind to stop himself.
It’s normal to be a little curious, he hastily thinks to himself before he sees Suguru’s dick and stops thinking altogether.
Suguru is big.
Satoru is by no means small, but Suguru is longer and thicker, a proper alpha cock surrounded by a thick nest of black curls that run up in a thin happy trail. The head is slightly flushed, shiny with water or lotion or fuck, precum perhaps, and Suguru’s hips jerk as he fucks into his fist, the slick sound of skin on skin echoing between the walls. His scent hangs like a heavy cloud in the small room, tinged with a deep, alluring sweetness that drips into Satoru’s brain, rendering him a little dazed.
Suguru growls, loud and unrestrained, and Satoru lets out a squeak.
Suguru twists his head, his half-lidded eyes widening when he spots Satoru staring at him with a slack jaw, and he instinctively takes a step back, nearly slipping and breaking his neck in his haste to cover himself up. With his back turned, Satoru gets a good view of his ass instead, firm and muscular just like his back and chest. Since when did Suguru get so ripped? Sure, Satoru has seen the way his t-shirts stretch over his ridiculous muscles, has even joked that Suguru’s pecs are bigger than most girls’ boobs, but he didn’t think he had a six-pack. How come even Suguru’s back is hot? God this isn’t fair.
“Satoru!” Suguru screams, his voice shrill and panicked, and that breaks Satoru out of his stupor. He flails a little, unsure of what to do in a situation like this, before whirling around, staring into the wall with burning cheeks.
“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, nervously rambling. “I’m… I should have knocked instead of just barging in, I didn’t… I didn’t hear the shower. But in my defense, who showers with an open door?”
He stubbornly studies the wallpaper, hoping that the plain eggshell white can erase the burning memories of Suguru’s thick, hard cock. If he’s that big normally, how big is his knot? Satoru’s knot is relatively small for an alpha, but with equipment like that, he can’t imagine Suguru having the same problem. Is that why Suguru has never mentioned having a heat partner? Surely any omega who takes a dick that big would split in half.
A strange shiver runs down Satoru’s spine and he shoves it away along with any indecent thoughts about his best friend.
“I thought you had a lecture today” Suguru says behind him, sounding a little strained.
“It got cancelled” Satoru says faintly, wondering if Suguru is still hard or if he’s gone soft. The shower is still running behind him and Satoru realises that Suguru has jerked off in there before. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise, of course he jerks off in his own shower, but the thought still makes Satoru’s skin heat up a little. He clears his throat, trying to dispel his burning curiosity. “You should, uhm… you should lock the door next time”
Suguru makes a noise that falls somewhere between a hiss and a pained moan, and if Satoru knows him right, he’s probably rubbing his face right now. Satoru gnaws on his bottom lip, wondering about the correct procedure in this situation. Should he apologise again? Show his own dick, so they’re even Steven? He’s not fully hard so it wouldn’t be completely even, but he is sporting a half mast for some unknown reason, and maybe that’s good enough for Suguru. Jesus, how sexually repressed is if he gets hard from walking in on his best friend? Satoru has to start masturbating more.
“Satoru?” Suguru calls out behind him. “Could you maybe, uhm… leave?”
“Oh” Satoru says, blinking. Right. He should just leave, no need to show Suguru his dick. “Sure, yeah. Of course”
He closes the door, moving mechanically like a robot, while keeping his eyes averted to save Suguru some dignity. Satoru has always had a thick face, but even he feels a little embarrassed by this situation, and he can’t imagine what Suguru must feel like.
Satoru briskly walks into the living room, sinking down on his makeshift bed as he stares at the black TV screen, the past two minutes playing on loop in his mind like an unskippable ad in his brain.
The image of Suguru’s cock, wet and rock hard in his firm grip, is permanently burned into Satoru’s retinas, and his little grunts and gasps of pleasure ring in Satoru’s ears. Who the fuck showers without locking the door? Even if you’re home alone, don’t you just lock it out of muscle memory? The apartment is silent save for the sound of running water and Satoru wonders if Suguru is taking a cold shower or if he’s continuing what Satoru interrupted, stroking himself behind that closed door like Satoru isn’t mere metres away.
The water turns off only a couple of seconds later, so probably not the latter. Unless he finished really fast, and there’s honestly no way that a guy like Suguru, the perfect alpha, is a one minute man.
Satoru jerks when the door opens and Suguru comes out, a towel slung on his hips. Droplets of water run down his chiselled chest and Satoru forces his eyes to stay on Suguru’s face instead of sliding down to his pecs. He has the decency to feel a little bit guilty about ogling his best friend, but who wouldn’t want to look a little? They’ve been friends for years and he can’t remember the last time he saw Suguru shirtless. Who wouldn’t be a bit curious?
Suguru’s mouth is set in a thin line and there’s a deep crease between his eyebrows. He doesn’t look upset per se, but his pheromones lack their usual note of comfort, and that makes Satoru squirm. He isn’t used to Suguru being uncomfortable around him, and it makes something unpleasant stir in his gut.
“We should probably set up some ground rules” Suguru says after a while, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a faint blush dusted across his cheeks, making him even prettier than normal. Suguru has always been gorgeous, Satoru was almost unable to look away from him when they first met, but this is a version of him that Satoru has never seen, wet and blushing and with his hair sticking to his damp forehead. As mortifying as this whole ordeal has been, Satoru can at least comfort himself with the fact that he’s probably the only person who’s seen Suguru like this. “You know, so we can, uhm, avoid this in the future”
Satoru nods eagerly.
“Totally” he says, wondering if his lighthearted tone sounds as fake to Suguru as it does to him. “Wouldn’t… wouldn’t want a repeat”
He forces a laugh but it ends up sounding more like a coughing fit.
“You should start with locking the door” Satoru prattles on, and Suguru finally relaxes a little, his pheromones growing calm and unguarded. He’s still awkward, shifting his weight between his feet like he’s praying for a hole to open up and swallow him, but he no longer smells sour of discomfort. It makes Satoru calm down a little as well.
“Right” Suguru says. “I will”
Satoru slams his fist into the table, mimicking a judge.
“It’s decided then” he says. “No jerking off behind open doors”
Suguru finally smiles, and Satoru can’t help but return it. This is fine, accidents happen when you live together but they’re navigating it like mature adults. And hey, Satoru’s alpha instincts didn’t even prickle him at the scent of an aroused alpha, which must mean that they’re unusually close and compatible. Maybe Suguru’s rut won’t even be a problem.
“I’m really sorry you had to see that” Suguru says earnestly. “I promise it won’t happen again”
There’s a strange twinge in Satoru’s stomach, but it’s gone as fast as it came and Satoru decides not to analyse it any closer. He waves his hand dismissively, hoping that he seems nonchalant and cool about the whole thing.
“It’s totally cool man” he says before nodding towards the TV. “Wanna order takeout and play some video games?”
Suguru walks into his room behind the couch, and Satoru hears the rustling of clothes. He’s reminded of Suguru’s naked form and sternly shoves those thoughts into a distant corner of his mind because it’s starting to get a bit creepy. Not queen-Margreth-of-Denmark-marrying-at-age-ten levels of creepy, but certainly invasive enough that Satoru should put a stop to it.
“Shouldn’t you study?” Suguru asks, emerging from his room in a ratty, oversized band tee and a pair of black sweatpants. His hair is still damp, his skin glowing from the shower. Whoever mates with him will be one lucky omega, Satoru thinks to himself.
“Not in the mood” Satoru says with a shake of his head. “I had a horrible day”
Suguru shrugs before sinking down on the sofa next to Satoru.
“Sure then” he says, reaching for the remote. “Mario Party?”
Satoru grins.
“Mario Party” he echoes and Suguru turns the TV on, setting the game up before leaning back in the sofa again, his warm shoulder pressing up against Satoru’s.
Things are fine, Satoru decides as they bicker amongst themselves, arguing whenever the other claims a star. I saw his dick once, who cares? It’s not like he’s the first person to ever see their friend naked.
It’s not a big deal.
It turns out that it kind of is a big deal.
As the days pass, neither of them mention the dick incident, as Satoru has taken to calling it in his mind, and Satoru does his best not to think about it too often. The memories pop up in his head sometimes, like when they’re on the subway in the morning and Suguru sits with his legs a little spread, or when he lounges around the apartment in loose sweatpants that occasionally show a faint outline of his bulge (he is, of course, huge even when soft), but overall, Satoru is doing pretty well about playing it cool.
Until Haibara ruins everything, that is.
There are plenty of bars and pubs on campus, and to celebrate Suguru passing a particularly gruelling philosophy exam, Satoru ends up at one of them a Friday night two weeks later, squeezed in between Haibara and Shoko. He’s nursing a soda as usual, keeping his promise to never drink again after an absolutely catastrophic night out a couple of years ago, listening in on the conversations around him as he tries to avoid touching the suspiciously sticky table. Shoko is talking to Utahime and Nanami about one of her professors, and Haibara is explaining something to Suguru, gesturing animatedly while Suguru nods.
He’s sitting across from Satoru, sipping on a beer as he listens to Haibara’s words. He’s wearing a hoodie today, his hair pulled up in a messy knot, and a couple of strands have come loose. He looks softer under the dim bar lighting, chuckling at something Haibara says as he takes a swig of beer. Every now and then his knees knock into Satoru’s.
“Right” Haibara says, turning to Satoru. “You live together now, right?”
Satoru nods.
“It’s only until I get a job” he explains, not mentioning the fact that his parents stopped sending him money, or the tiny, insignificant detail that he hasn’t had any luck with his job hunting so far. Whatever, he’ll land something soon.
Haibara nods in understanding.
“I hope you find something man” he says, patting Satoru’s shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “Living with another alpha must be rough”
Satoru blinks in confusion. So far, living with Suguru has been absolutely awesome. He eats well-balanced home cooked meals everyday, the place is neat and tidy, not to mention the fact that he gets to hang out with Suguru every evening. The only drawback is the loud rock music Suguru listens to when he showers, but even that’s not the end of the world.
“It’s really not that bad” Satoru says and Haibara raises his eyebrows.
“Really?” he questions, shrugging as Satoru nods. “Well, I guess a beta wouldn’t know. I’ve just heard that alphas get all territorial and shit, especially when they’re in rut”
“We haven’t had our ruts yet” Suguru explains. “I’m not due until next month, so hopefully Satoru will have moved out by then”
Haibara rolls his eyes, scoffing into his glass.
“You think he’ll get a job and an apartment in a month?” he asks disbelievingly. “Dream on”
“Hey!” Satoru squawks indignantly, kicking Haibara under the table. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Haibara mimes zipping his lips shut and Shoko, who’s been listening in, snickers before turning back to Utahime and Nanami.
“Nothing, nothing” Haibara says. “Wishing you all the luck though! It’s gotta be awkward bringing home a rut partner when you have a roommate”
Something bitter stings at the very back of Satoru’s throat and he has to clear it three times before the lump dissolves. He turns to Suguru, keeping his voice as light as he can.
“You have rut partners?” he asks, annoyance prickling his skin. Suguru has never mentioned having a rut partner before, and they share everything. Would he really tell Haibara about something like this, and not Satoru? That’s just not cool behaviour, they’re supposed to be best friends!
To Satoru’s relief, Suguru shakes his head.
“No” he says, and Haibara raises his eyebrows.
“Really? Why not?” he asks curiously. “I’ve heard that ruts are like, painful unless you knot an omega”
In Satoru’s head, the burning image of Suguru’s cock pops up uninvited. With a size like that, spending a rut alone must be painful indeed. Satoru busies his mouth with his soda, hoping that the others won’t notice the guilty expression he’s making.
“I mean yeah, it isn’t exactly nice” Suguru says. “But what choice do I have? Ruts can get pretty intense and I don’t really want to share that with just anyone”
It reassures Satoru a little, to hear that Suguru hasn’t kept a rut partner as some dirty secret from him, and he relaxes, listening intently. Suguru doesn’t talk much about his ruts, he’s a pretty private person in general when it comes to sexuality, but the alcohol seems to have loosened him up a little.
“So what, you use toys or something?” Haibara asks, causing Satoru to choke as his drink goes down the wrong pipe. He coughs and sputters, his eyes going a little teary. Seeing this reaction, Haibara quickly backtracks. “Sorry, maybe that was an invasive question? You don’t have to answer if you aren’t comfortable”
Satoru blinks away the tears in his eyes, pounding his own chest with his fist to get rid of the soda tickling his airways. He feels awkward about his own, exaggerated reaction, but he’s also kind of curious about Suguru’s answer. Drunk or not, there’s no way someone as private as Suguru would share details about his rut toys, right? He still hasn’t even told Satoru who he lost his virginity to all those years ago, still insisting that he doesn’t ‘kiss and tell’. There’s just no way-
“Yeah” Suguru says.
Satoru’s grip involuntarily tightens on his glass, and for a moment, the room falls silent. His mouth goes a little dry, his throat stinging as he swallows. It’s not unusual to use toys, Satoru himself has used a fleshlight to help him properly knot during his ruts, but somehow he always had this idea that Suguru was more innocent than him.
He’s already seen Suguru masturbate, so supplementing Suguru’s fist with a toy isn’t hard at all, his treacherous mind providing him with the mental image all on its own. The usually calm and composed Suguru, dripping with sweat as he goes more and more feral, growling as he pounds into a fleshlight, pretending that it’s an omega in heat…
Not for the first time these past few weeks, Satoru has to actively remind himself that Suguru is literally sitting in front of him, and that it’s sort of creepy to imagine him masturbating while looking him in the eye. He tilts his glass back only to realise that it’s empty. When did he finish his drink?
“So what’s it like to have a rut?” Haibara asks, digging his hole deeper and deeper. For some reason Satoru can’t quite pinpoint, he’s getting a bit scared of the direction the conversation is taking. He feels like an English monk in 793, helplessly watching as a ship of vikings approach to ravage Lindisfarne Monastery and wants to steer the talk to safer waters but his tongue is tied, and he remains quiet. He probably hasn’t been quiet for this long since he learned to talk.
Suguru, oblivious to his inner turmoil, only shrugs. He looks a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t tell Haibara off.
“It sucks, but I’ve heard that heats are worse so I probably shouldn’t complain” he says. “You get a mild fever, and during the prerut you get extra territorial, and when it fully hits… well you probably know what happens then”
Suguru has a swig of beer before continuing.
“It’s different for everyone though” he says. “Some alphas get super aggressive, just like omegas during their heats”
Haibara nods, clearly interested. Satoru kind of gets it; he comes from a family of betas, and while sex education has greatly improved these past ten years, some schools are slow to improve the curriculum. It’s just innocent curiosity.
So why does he feel so nervous?
“What about you?” Haibara asks, turning from Suguru to Satoru. “Do you get aggressive?”
Satoru feels a little relieved that Suguru has stopped talking so he hurries to respond.
“Nah” he says. “I just get… well, horny. And as Suguru said, maybe a bit territorial? Like, I release pheromones without meaning to”
Satoru laughs, relaxing a little. Talking about his own rut doesn’t feel as difficult as hearing about Suguru’s.
“It’s not like I prowl my room or feel the need to dominate” he says and Haibara nods. Seemingly happy with the answers, he starts listening to Shoko and Utahime’s conversation, and Satoru releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Across the table, he sees Suguru eyeing him with a strange glint in his eyes, and when Haibara goes to the bathroom Satoru moves over to his side.
“We should probably get going soon” he says, looking at the time. “It’s pretty late, and I have class tomorrow”
Suguru hums wordlessly, like he hasn’t even heard what Satoru said and Satoru frowns at him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head. “You got pretty quiet after talking about your rut”
He bites his lip before lowering his voice a little, granting them privacy from the others.
“You’re not… you didn’t get uncomfortable, right?” he asks. Maybe Suguru did hate the conversation and was hoping that Satoru would save him from it.
Suguru shakes his head softly.
“No, that’s not it” he says. “It’s just…”
He hesitates, trailing off, and Satoru nods encouragingly for him to continue.
“You… you don’t feel the need to, uhm, dominate?” he asks, sounding a little embarrassed to ask but curious despite it all.
Satoru feels himself flush warm. They’ve never really talked about sex before, Satoru has tried but Suguru always got awkward about it so eventually he decided to respect that boundary. Suguru keeps his words vague, never once crossing the line to crudeness, but it’s still undeniable what topic they’re skirting around.
“Not… really?” he says. “I mean… I think about a hole to fuck but I don’t get the urge to like… bite and claim and ravish an omega. I just get horny”
Satoru fiddles with his fingers, throwing glances at Suguru as he musters up the courage to ask the question that’s burning on his tongue.
“What about you?” he asks, his voice weak. He feels nervous, which is weird, because Suguru is his best friend and there’s nothing to be nervous about. “Do you… do you feel the need to dominate?”
Suguru stares at him for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable, before looking away.
“Yeah” he mutters before taking a deep breath. “I… sorry, this is stupid”
Satoru wants to agree, wants to drop this and talk about something else, like the political influence of the Fujiwara clan during the Heian era, or maybe the collapse of the Song dynasty, or just going home since it’s fucking late, but he finds himself shaking his head. It’s a wordless encouragement for Suguru to continue, so he does.
“I think a lot about that during my ruts” he admits, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Dominating someone, holding them down, just… yeah. You don’t… you don’t ever think about that?”
Satoru feels that it’s getting a bit hard to breathe, the temperature suddenly rising a couple of degrees. When he shifts, he feels an unmistakable tightness in his jeans and he feels mortified, praying that Suguru won’t have noticed the spike of arousal in his scent.
He really needs to masturbate more.
“Can’t say I do” he says faintly, because honestly he doesn’t. Satoru doesn’t bother with porn during his ruts, too preoccupied with jacking off five times in a row to remember his phone, and his fantasies are unoriginal, typically starring some faceless omega, or just a slick hole. Like any other alpha, Satoru has instincts to dominate and prowl, he isn’t meek, but he usually ignores them, and during his ruts he’s too hazy with arousal to properly think about anything but cumming and knotting. If he were more mentally present, he might have more detailed fantasies about subduing omegas, really take control of them using his pheromones, but just thinking about a hole works too.
Satoru feels his dick twitch in his underwear and starts looking for a bus home, eager to put an end to this topic once and for all.
When they come home and Suguru has gone to bed, Satoru sneaks into the bathroom and jerks off, biting his hand to muffle his moans. The memory of Suguru’s dick, that wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, pops into his mind, but in Satoru’s fantasy, Suguru isn’t fucking his fist but a fleshlight, and then suddenly it’s a faceless omega. Satoru tries to think about the slick hole, the sweet mewls, but the only thing he can vividly picture is Suguru’s thick cock pistoning in and out, his growls low as he holds the omega in place, dominates them, and Satoru comes into his palm with a strangled cry.
As he wipes up his cum afterward, feeling ashamed and a little dirty, he belatedly realises that things have gone a bit too far. Walking in on Suguru shouldn’t have been a big deal, it could have been a minor speedbump that Satoru moved on from, but after their conversation in the bar, about toys and Suguru holding someone down, Satoru doesn’t feel so sure anymore.
Maybe he’s just a bit thirsty because he’s a virgin who never had time to have sex because he was too busy codependently clinging to his best friend. That would explain the weird feelings he’s been having lately in regards to Suguru. It would certainly explain why he jerked off thinking about Suguru.
He’s just repressed and desperate, that’s it.
Still, it is with heavy guilt gnawing on his heart that he washes his hands and goes to bed, and the following day, he can’t quite look Suguru in the eyes.
Satoru would say he’s a pretty confident person in general, but this confidence of his suffers a pretty fatal blow when he, a month and a half into living with Suguru and with around forty job applications under his belt, still hasn’t managed to land even an interview.
Sure, Satoru has never had a job before, and his resume is painfully blank under the subtitle ‘prior experience’, but he assumed that if he applied to everything he found, at least one place would get back to him. So far, only ten places have even bothered responded, their emails all stating some variation of ‘sorry, but we’re looking for someone with more experience’.
Satoru feels a little indignant at this rejection, and very much embarrassed, and it’s not made better by Suguru who only shrugs like he knew this was bound to happen. After a lot of begging and pleading, Suguru reluctantly asks his manager if there’s a position available for a friend who is ‘inexperienced but diligent’, but that doesn’t lead anywhere either.
Satoru is at a loss; he’s used to being pretty good at everything, acing every exam and generally breezing through life, and getting brutally pulled back to earth like this has ruffled more than a few of his feathers to tell the truth. His mother has at last softened a little bit though, sending him money for groceries and his part of the rent, so he has at least started pulling his weight as Suguru’s flatmate, but he’s no closer to finding a job.
Not to mention that almost two months have passed and Suguru’s rut is drawing close, with Satoru no closer to moving out than he was when he moved in.
They don’t talk about it, which Satoru feels grateful about. He’s been jerking off more frequently lately in the hopes that it will banish his weird obsession with Suguru’s cock, but it hasn’t worked out quite as well as he would have liked.
If anything, the unwelcome fantasies have become more detailed, leading to a lot of guilt and shame from Satoru’s side.
One day Satoru comes home and Suguru’s scent is thicker than usual, dripping with the sweetness of arousal. Satoru drops his bag, opening his mouth to gulp down mouthfuls, shivering as the taste of Suguru’s pheromones coat the inside of his mouth. The alpha inside of him stirs, bristling at the smell of an alpha in rut, but the scent is so delicious that Satoru can’t help but fight his own instincts.
It’s so potent, heady like a fine wine, trickling down his throat like honey. Satoru feels almost a little dizzy with it, torn between scenting the place to mark his territory and shoving his hand down his pants.
In the end he does neither, choosing to instead walk towards the source of the smell.
Suguru is sitting at the dinner table, frowning as he pours over one of his textbooks, his tongue peaking out between his lips as he focuses. The window is open, letting in a gentle breeze that does nothing to dispel his pheromones. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt with a wide neckline that slips down his shoulder, and his skin is already dewy with a thin sheen of sweat.
He jerks when Satoru enters the room, probably feeling a little threatened by the presence of another alpha. His eyes seem to burn as they rake over Satoru’s body as if he’s a piece of meat, and Satoru swallows the growl threatening to build in his throat. His best friend is in rut, this is no time to let his instincts take over like some insecure, pubescent virgin!
Against the voice inside his head, Satoru purposefully makes himself smaller, less threatening, and subdues his own pheromones as much as he can before approaching Suguru. The crease between Suguru’s eyebrows deepen, like he’s upset about something, but then he seems to shake himself out of his haze, smiling apologetically at Satoru.
“Sorry” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “My pre-rut has started”
“It’s okay” Satoru says, because this was a risk all along and they’re just going to have to do what they can. He could move in with Shoko for a couple of days, but she doesn’t have a spare sofa so he’d have to sleep on the floor, and going back to his parents isn’t an option since they live too far from university. There’s not much to do aside from accepting the current situation. “Do you… do you need help with anything? Cooking, cleaning, anything like that?”
Suguru shakes his head, closing his eyes as he rubs his temples.
“I’ve prepared meals for the coming week” he mumbles. “If you can leave them outside my door that would be nice. I’ll text you if I need anything else, but I should manage. I mean, I’ve managed so far, right?”
Satoru nods. Suguru has spent all of his previous ruts alone, of course he will be fine this time around.
Suguru shows him the meals he has prepared, explaining everything in great detail despite his laboured breathing and feverishly hot skin. They brush hands at one point and Satoru is nearly scorched by his heat.
”Oh and here’s a key to my room” Suguru says, tossing a small key to Satoru who catches it. He inspects the small metal object with a raised eyebrow and Suguru clears his throat. ”I don’t think I’ll… lose control, but if I do just… lock the door, okay?”
Satoru nods confidently, but he feels a bit nervous as he pockets the key. What does Suguru mean by ’lose control’? Is there a risk he’ll barge out of the room and tear Satoru’s throat out? Or does he mean that he’s likely to storm out of the apartment to find an omega? Neither really sound like Suguru, so Satoru draws the conclusion that this is just Suguru overthinking as usual. Still, he accepts the key. If it makes Suguru feel calm, that’s good enough of a reason to Satoru.
They have dinner and settle down on the couch to watch some anime together. They’re quiet, and it’s honestly pretty nice. If it weren’t for the lingering stench of Suguru’s pheromones, as well as his nervous twitching, it would have been a completely normal evening between them. Satoru pretends not to notice when Suguru rubs his wrist against the sofa cushions, scenting them, and he crosses his arms to cover his own scent glands. He doesn’t like it; submitting like this, even if it’s indirectly, makes annoyance prickle deep in his heart, but he’s willing to grin and bear it for Suguru’s sake. He’s sure that Suguru would do the same for him, and to be completely honest, it’s not as hard as he thought it would be.
When night falls, Suguru bids him goodnight. He turns to close the door before hesitating, twisting his head to talk over his shoulder.
“In a couple of days or so, I’ll lock myself up in my room” he says. Satoru wishes he could see his face. “Please text me when you leave and come back so I know when I can wash my sheets and stuff”
“Will do” Satoru promises. “Do you have everything you need? Snacks?”
“Ceck”
“Extra sheets? Water?”
“Check and check”
Satoru bites his tongue to stop the words from tumbling out but he can’t help it, he’s so goddamn curious that it’s eating him alive.
“Toys?”
Suguru visibly stiffens, his shoulders squaring up as he goes rigid. Satoru barely dares to breathe; he doesn’t even mean to tease Suguru, he’s sworn to quit such immature behaviour, but it comes as second nature to him at this point.
“Goodnight Satoru” Suguru says, not answering his question.
Satoru stares at the closed door for a long time, the key burning holes in his pocket, and for some reason, he can’t quite let go of the fact that Suguru didn’t deny it.
The next mornings follow a similar pattern, their conversation upholding a sense of semi-normalcy as Suguru grows tenser, his responses getting curter as he battles his rising body temperature. One day Satoru carelessly lets his scent flare and Suguru growls, something he hasn’t done in years. It’s not a fully blown growl, only the rumbling beginning of one, but it’s much deeper and darker than it was when they were teenagers, tearing through Satoru’s body like a thunderstorm. His instincts rear their ugly head, snarling at being dominated, but a small part of him shivers, and for a brief second, Satoru has the outrageous idea of cowering and bearing his neck in submission.
The idea passes as quickly as it entered his head and Satoru takes a steadying breath, forcing himself to stay calm and collected. Suguru’s eyes widen in horror as he realises what he’s done and he apologises profusely until Satoru gets uncomfortable and asks him to stop. They try to keep chatting but things are a bit weird as Satoru leaves for university, and during his lecture his phone buzzes with a text from Suguru.
rut has started
Satoru feels nervous but also oddly excited when he gets home that evening. Chances are low that Suguru will need his help but he can’t deny that he hopes they aren’t zero. Suguru is always the one taking care of Satoru, cooking most of their meals and handling the majority of the cleaning. Satoru is only really in charge of the laundry. This might be the first time the roles are reversed and Satoru can be the one helping Suguru out.
The thought of providing for Suguru, taking care of him during his rut, is strangely enticing and makes Satoru want to prance around the apartment.
The first three days, he doesn’t even see Suguru. He diligently texts Suguru every time he leaves and when he’s coming back, and the only reminder that Suguru is even home is the thick cloud of pheromones that lingers in the air when he comes home. The first time he smells Suguru’s rut pheromones, Satoru’s knees buckle and he has to lean against the wall for support. He considers airing the place out, but decides against it since it might upset Suguru if he doesn’t get to scent his territory.
Besides, as overwhelming as their sheer power is, Suguru’s pheromones don’t smell bad at all now that he’s in rut.
They’re sweet, binding together the notes of incense, sandalwood and bonfire in a masculine yet elegant way. Satoru can’t describe it, can only draw in deep breaths despite his inner urge to rub his scent glands against every wall.
The days pass uneventfully, with Suguru staying inside his room and never texting Satoru unless he needs something. Satoru leaves meals outside Suguru’s door and Suguru collects them when Satoru is out, and they don’t really interact until the third day, when Suguru sends Satoru a cryptic text.
Satoru is filing out of the lecture hall after a painfully boring lecture when he glances at his phone, frowning when he reads the text.
Don’t open the bags in the bathroom. I was going to do the laundry when a second wave hit me. Idk why but my rut is extra intense this time. I’m really sorry, I’ll deal with them tomorrow when you’re out
It’s the first lengthy text Suguru has sent him since his rut started, and Satoru rereads it over and over, his curiosity spiking each time. The rut has been extra intense? Why? And what’s in those bags that Satoru isn’t allowed to see?
In Satoru’s defense, he really resists the curiosity for a long time, staunchly ignoring the magnetic pull of the bathroom as he makes dinner, does the dishes and watches some YouTube. He doesn’t even look at the door, knowing that he’ll be unable to resist if he does. Eventually however, his bladder reminds him that it’s been a while since he went to the bathroom, and he doesn’t have a choice.
The bathroom smells so strongly of Suguru that it’s like he’s in there, and Satoru calmly relieves himself, slowly washing his hands and drying them, pretending to himself like he’s only there to innocently use the toilet.
When he’s done and can’t pretend anymore, he grabs the first bag.
It’s soft, and tied with a tight knot that takes ages to open, and when Satoru finally manages to open the bag, his hands are trembling with excitement. Damp fabric falls into his lap, along with a cloud of Suguru’s pheromones, even stronger than before. Satoru must be developing a resilience towards them because he barely even frowns at the smell of rutting alpha anymore. Satoru picks up the fabric, realising that it’s Suguru’s sheets.
They’re damp from sweat, and in the middle there’s a large, wet patch. Satoru touches it, and his fingers come away a little sticky. He stares at the shiny pads, absentmindedly rubbing them together before bringing the sheets up to his nose, inhaling deeply.
His head swims as he drags Suguru’s scent deep into his lungs, his mind going hazy like he’s on drugs, and before he has the chance to register his own movements, he has shoved the sheets into his mouth. If Suguru smelled good he tastes even better, the smoky, spicy flavour invading Satoru’s mouth as he desperately sucks on the sheets, trying to draw the liquid out of the fabric. Satoru is distantly aware that he’s moaning, the sounds muffled by the sheets bunched up in his mouth. Whatever this liquid is, and Satoru can guess but he’s not sure, it tastes heavenly, numbing his entire body with pleasure.
Satoru sucks on the sheets until it’s wet with spit, his mouth dry and all the flavour gone. He tosses the sheets aside, nearly tearing the next bag into pieces with his frenzied movements. He needs more, he’s on his knees on the bathroom floor with his cock rock hard and probably leaking, and this bag smells even stronger.
When he finally tears it open, Satoru can only stare.
At the bottom of the bag, in a pool of liquid, lies a purple fleshlight, shiny and thoroughly used. Satoru blinks a couple of times, dimly realising that the liquid in the bag is cum.
Not a normal load though: buckets of it.
Satoru’s heart is racing in his chest as he pushes a finger into the liquid, watching it drip down his hand as he pulls it out. Do alphas generally cum this much during their ruts? Satoru cums more than usual, but certainly not this much. Is it because Suguru is bigger? It shouldn’t even be humanly possible to cum this much.
Satoru pushes his finger inside his mouth, sobbing when the taste explodes on his tongue. It tastes so good, fuck, why does it taste so good? That can’t be normal. Satoru doesn’t stop to think, only scoops up more on his fingers and laps it up, his eyes rolling back into his skull. It tastes just like Suguru’s rut pheromones, with a bitter undertone of the semen itself. There’s so much of it and there’s something so hot about that, and Satoru can’t bring himself to do the ethical thing and stop, desperately gathering more cum on his fingers, shoving them deep inside his mouth, as far back his throat as he can without gagging.
If Satoru was lucid he’d probably question why another alpha’s cum tastes so good to him, or question his own dubious moral for lapping up his best friend’s semen, but something has unraveled inside his brain and he can’t think straight, can only chase that delicious taste as tears stream down his face.
When did he start crying?
Satoru’s fingers and chin are slick with drool when he pulls them out and he nearly drops the fleshlight when he picks it up and licks into it. It’s filled to the brim, of course it, Jesus christ how much does this guy cum? Satoru swallows greedily, loving the way it slides down his throat.
With his free hand he opens the fly of his jeans, pushing them down his hips. He’s too preoccupied to take off his boxers, plunging his hand inside and roughly grabbing his aching cock. He tugs on it, the friction dry and unfulfilling, and with a disappointed whine he slams his palm into the pool of semen in the bag before wrapping it around himself. It acts as lube, easing the slide and leaving his skin feeling electrified. Satoru continues working his tongue into the toy as he ruts his hips once, twice, before cumming with a shout.
He’s never orgasmed this fast or hard in his life, and it rips through his body like a bolt of lightning, completely wiping out his vision. He tenses up, splattering ropes of semen on his jeans and on the floor, before sagging, collapsing on the cold tiles.
The pleasant aftershocks of the orgasm pulsate beneath his skin as he slowly calms down, his heart settling into its normal rhythm.
He glances at the fleshlight in his hand and the warmth in his stomach vanishes, replaced with an ice cold lump of guilt.
Oh God, what has he done?
After a moment of simply staring at the horrendous aftermath, Satoru starts moving mechanically, completely on auto-pilot.
He cleans the toy and puts the cum-stained bag in double plastic bags before throwing them in the trash and tossing the sheets in the washing machine.
He sits with his back against it, listening to the rhythmic beating of its heart as he thinks things over and tries to sort them out.
As much as Satoru would like to, it would be ridiculous to keep denying the obvious; he has a thing for Suguru. He’s not sexually repressed or thirsty in general, he’s just thirsty for a specific individual, and that individual is his best friend and roommate, Getou Suguru.
Satoru lets his head fall back with a thump, feeling the vibrations of the washing machine massage his skull as he tries to categorise his thoughts. They’re flying in every direction, drenched in panic, but Satoru has been blindly ignoring his problems for too long and he has to face them now before they grow too big to handle.
They’ve already gotten out of control to the point where it genuinely scares Satoru.
First and foremost, he needs to figure out if his thing for Suguru is purely sexual or if it’s romantic too. Satoru goes for the oldest trick in the book and pictures Suguru getting a girlfriend. He chooses Shoko for his little experiment, but the idea of them in a romantic relationship is so ridiculous that he bursts out laughing. He goes for Haibara instead, and the laughter gets stuck in his throat.
He thinks of Suguru laying his arm around someone else, coming home with another’s pheromones sticking to his skin, and something jerks violently in Satoru’s stomach. He grits his teeth as he realises, not without a sinking feeling, that he does not like that one bit.
Suddenly, a lot of things make sense as they come into a new light. Satoru understands why he teased Suguru so mercilessly when they were younger, unable to stand it if Suguru gave his attention to someone else. He understands why he’s been uninterested in omegas the past seven years, he understands why he got hard from seeing Suguru’s dick and he understands why it made him so happy whenever Suguru provided for him, or engaged in courting-adjacent behaviour.
Shit, Satoru thinks miserably, I’m in love with him.
It doesn’t come as a great revelation followed by confetti and a fanfare, but as a belated side note that fills him with dread that threatens to spill over across the laundromat floor. Satoru rubs his face, fighting the bitter tears that well up in his eyes. He’s in love with his best friend. He probably has been for years, and he hasn’t even realised it.
Satoru doesn’t know what hurts more, the fact that he has irrevocably screwed their friendship or the fact that he’s wasted years not recognising these precious little feelings that glimmer like gems at the bottom of a lake. He rubs his face, forcing himself to go back to the practical aspects. One issue at a time, and he can wallow in his own misery later.
The next big question is how the fuck he’s going to look Suguru in the eye after eating his cum. It’s no small violation of privacy, and Satoru wearily wonders if he’s committed some sort of crime. Suguru won’t notice, will he?
Satoru texted him that he cleaned the toy and the sheets, and Suguru has yet to respond. The toy was probably safe, but the sheets were drenched in Satoru’s saliva and with the scent glands below his jaw, he’s not willing to take the risk.
He closes his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm.
If Suguru doesn’t realise what he has done, everything is okay. Well, it’s not exactly okay, but Satoru can continue living with Suguru while hiding his awful, gay crush, he can avoid doing something like that ever again, and everything will go back to normal once he gets a job and moves out.
If Suguru does figure things out on the other hand, then Satoru has no choice but to commit seppuku, or possibly move to Tibet and change identities to live as a Buddhist monk.
For the sake of their friendship, and Satoru’s life, he will have to do everything he can to keep Suguru from finding out.
He really, really doesn’t want to live as a monk.
He isn’t even Buddhist.
Suguru’s rut ends a couple of days later, and he emerges from his room looking a little frazzled but overall healthy, his cheeks still lightly flushed. His scent has dimmed back down again, but Satoru still salivates over it, his newfound realisation not dampening his obsession with Suguru’s pheromones.
Suguru apologises for scenting the place so badly and airs it out, offering to buy a scent-neutralising room spray. Panic jerks through Satoru’s stomach at the thought of diffusing Satoru’s heavenly smell and he fakes a laugh, assuring him that it’s totally fine. If Suguru finds him weird, he doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and accepts it.
Living with Suguru has gotten infinitely harder since Satoru realised the depth of his feelings. All those sweet little moments between them, the sleepy mornings by the kitchen tables and the late nights in front of the television, seem much more meaningful now, and Satoru often catches himself stealing glances at Suguru. Suguru has always been beautiful, and Satoru has always known that, but it’s different when Satoru can put a name to it. It fills Satoru with an urge to reach out and touch, and Satoru learns the hard way just how much it hurts to be so close to the one you love, unable to do anything about it.
But the earth keeps spinning like it always has, through wars and dynasties and plagues and famine, and it doesn’t stop for the sake of Satoru’s feelings, even if he thinks that it should.
“What do you wanna watch?” Suguru asks him one day as they’re flipping through Netflix for something to watch. He has cooked a delicious-smelling lasagna for dinner, and the bowl of chips and soda is prepared for afterwards, and all in all, it’s looking a lot like the start of a pretty awesome friday night.
Satoru narrows his eyes, reading the titles that flip past until his eyes land on a yellow poster.
“That one. Kill Bill” he says, moving to look at Suguru. “I’ve wanted to see that for a long time and-”
The words die in his throat as he sees Suguru who’s in the process of braiding his long, black tresses. His bangs fall into his eyes, and he’s pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch, and he looks so soft and beautiful that it physically hurts, Satoru’s scent glands throbbing with the need to scent Suguru.
Suguru fastens the braid with a hair tie before looking questioningly at Satoru. It takes him a couple of seconds to realise that he stopped in the middle of a sentence.
“I just…” he mumbles lamely. “It’s a classic, right?”
“Fine by me” Suguru says, pressing play before picking his plate up, eating his lasagna with his eyes trained on the television. Satoru tries to focus on the movie but he keeps getting distracted, both by the way the colours flash across Suguru’s face, but also by the food he’s eating, food that Suguru cooked for him.
In traditional courting, not that it’s all that common these days, providing food for your mate is a pretty significant step. If one is to follow the steps, it starts with small gifts and physical contact before moving on to food and scenting. If the omega’s heat is approaching, the alpha will help them with their nest, and the final step is of course the claiming bite.
Satoru is more than bitterly aware that Suguru only sees him as a friend, and that the food has nothing to do with courting, but where he’s sitting on the couch, drenched in Suguru’s scent and with a plate of lasagna in his hands, he can’t help but feel like he’s being courted. The lasagna grows in his mouth, ruined by the sour taste of bile that rises in Satoru’s throat as he chokes down his tears.
Suguru must have noticed a shift in his scent for he puts his plate down before scooting closer.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, frowning. He sounds concerned, and Satoru wants to cry even more because Suguru is so gentle, so kind, and he’d be absolutely disgusted if he knew the things Satoru has thought about him while jerking off in the middle of the night. “You smell upset”
Satoru swallows the lasagna along with the lump in his throat and forces his pheromones under control, firing off the brightest smile he can muster.
“I’m fine” he lies, and Suguru looks unconvinced. “I’m just a bit stressed about… finding a job”
To tell the truth, Satoru hasn’t applied to a single job these past few days, too preoccupied with his internal crisis, but Suguru doesn’t need to know that. Now he’s nodding in understanding and Satoru feels like the world’s worst friend.
“Do you… want a hug?” he asks, a little awkward but well-meaning. They’re not the kind of friends that typically hug a lot, but Satoru nods anyway because he is a horrible, horrible person.
Suguru’s arms are warm and strong around him as they envelop his waist, squeezing tightly. Satoru allows himself a moment’s rest against Suguru’s firm, broad chest, not-so-accidentally knocking his head into the scent glands below Suguru’s jaw. If he can’t have Suguru, he can at least microdose himself with Suguru’s pheromones. For a short while, he can trick his brain into thinking that they’re a thing. If he avoids washing his hair, he will probably smell like Suguru for at least two days.
I’m so fucked, Satoru thinks bitterly.
The real problem, aside from the inconvenient and elephant-sized crush that Satoru apparently harbours, is that Satoru is hornier than he’s ever been.
Not even when he presented has he jerked off this often, his dick rubbed raw from how hard and impatiently he jerks it. He does it in the bathroom at night, on the couch when he’s home alone, and at one shameful occasion, in a university stall, something that he’s less than proud of.
Satoru cums more than he has in his entire life, and still, he never feels satisfied. There’s a strange itch under his skin, like he hasn’t really orgasmed, and it’s been that way ever since the bathroom incident (even in Satoru’s own head, he’s not thick-faced enough to call it ‘the cum eating incident’). Masturbating quickly goes from something fun to a chore, and when Satoru finishes for the third time in a day and still feels feverishly horny and not quite satisfied, he’s ready to cry with frustration.
He orders a fleshlight and fucks into it eagerly, but it does little to make him come. If anything, he almost struggles to stay hard, bored with the cold plastic that clumsily imitates a vagina. In a moment of weakness, he snatches one of Suguru’s worn shirts from the laundry pile. He isn’t bold enough to grab a pair of underwear, or a t-shirt that’s rested directly on his skin, but a hoodie feels less severe. Still, Satoru’s heart is beating like he’s stolen the Mona Lisa, the hoodie burning his skin as he runs into the bathroom and locks the door.
With his nose pressed into the fabric that Suguru’s scent still clings to and his hand down his pants, Satoru finally reaches a semi-satisfying orgasm. He feels horribly guilty afterwards, even more so when he realises that it’s definitely going to happen again.
And yet, there’s this persistent ache in his bones, a longing for something he can’t quite define. It’s something that he needs, needs as badly as he needs air to breathe, but Satoru can’t figure out what it is.
One day, when Suguru is working, Satoru is lying on the couch, forgoing their rules about only jerking off behind locked doors as he pumps his cock with no orgasm in sight. It feels good, but it’s somehow not enough. Can he not climax properly anymore, is that it? Does he need to eat Suguru’s cum to orgasm?
Annoyed and frustrated and so horny that he can’t think straight, Satoru crawls to his hands and knees. He’s been doing that a lot lately, his muscles weirdly tense when he’s on his back, only relaxing when he flips over. He feels vulnerable, since it’s a position for presenting, but also oddly sexy, exposed and meek despite his tall build.
He closes his eyes, imagining Suguru as usual.
He thinks about Suguru grabbing a faceless omega’s hips with bruising force, holding them in place as he fucks into that wet heat. It’s a fantasy Satoru has played in his head countless times, but this time, it annoys him. Faceless or not, he doesn’t like the omega under Suguru, doesn’t like that his fantasy-Suguru is fucking someone else. Seamlessly, and without Satoru realising it, the omega transforms into Satoru writhing in pleasure as Suguru pistons in and out of him.
Satoru gasps, his eyes flying open as stars explode behind his eyelids. He has imagined them together before, giving each other hand jobs and blowjobs, but he’s never thought to fantasise about this. Why would he? He’s an alpha, he’s not meant to present his ass for fucking. But now he can’t stop.
Satoru whines, thumbing his slit as he thinks about Suguru pushing his face down into the mattress, pounding into him like he’s just a hole, like he’s an omega to claim. He feels feverish, too horny to stop and wonder if this is a weird fantasy to have. It should chafe, should make his instincts roar in protest, but somehow it seems so goddamn hot to him. He’d fight it, of course, buck and thrash under Suguru, but Suguru would be too strong for him, holding him in a vice-like grip, sinking his teeth into his neck to subdue him…
Satoru lets go of his cock, shoving his fingers into his mouth to thoroughly cover them with saliva before reaching behind himself. This is not something he’s ever done before, he hasn’t even considered it a possibility, but now it feels like the only natural progression and he doesn’t even think about his decision as his fingers circle his dry hole.
The pucker twitches beneath his touch, and Satoru shudders, the area more sensitive than he initially anticipated. Impatiently he pushes a finger inside, down to the first knuckle. It feels weird, a little uncomfortable, but the purely physical sensations drown in a roar of satisfaction.
It feels so right.
Satoru moans so loudly that the whole house can probably hear, shoving his finger deeper inside. He wriggles it around before clumsily fucking it in and out, his mind electrified as something inside of him finally falls into place.
It doesn’t even feel that good; saliva works poorly as a substitute for lube, and the friction burns dry as Satoru works his finger as well as he can, his wrist already strained, but the itch under his skin is finally, finally dimming. Satoru pulls his finger out, spitting into his trembling hand before plunging two fingers inside. It stings now, but he can’t stop, his hand moving on its own.
Satoru crooks his fingers downwards, whimpering when he brushes past something that makes heat flare in his abdomen. His cock twitches with interest, a drop of precum dribbling out. Swallowing his pride, he reaches down and starts pumping it again. With no hand to support himself with anymore, he falls forward, his face smushed into the mattress, his ass high in the air.
The perfect breeding position.
The thought strikes him like lightning and Satoru moans into the mattress, fucking himself as he jerks his dick, finally feeling satisfied after weeks of desperation. How would it feel to have something bigger inside of him? He’s seen Suguru’s dick, there’s no way it would fit. He’d split Satoru in half, that’s for sure. If he used a bit of force it might work, if he held Satoru’s hip really hard, ensuring that Satoru can’t wriggle away as he’s entered, tears streaming down his face, begging Suguru to slow down, not so fast, he’s too big…
Satoru comes with a broken cry, shooting ropes of cum on the couch cushions.
He allows himself a moment of respite before pulling his fingers out of his ass. While not as intense as the orgasm he had in the bathroom, it’s the closest he’s gotten without smelling Suguru’s shirt, and better yet, the uncomfortable prickling under his skin has finally been eased.
Satoru carefully washes his hands before scrubbing the couch clean. He rummages through the cabinets and finds an old scent-neutraliser. It’s past expiration date but he sprays the couch down anyway, hoping it’ll block the worst evidence of his crimes.
It isn’t until he sits down by the dinner table to work on his physics assignment that it truly sinks in what he’s done. In the moment it felt so natural, like the only logical next step, so Satoru honestly didn't think too much about it, but now it hits him like a truck.
He fantasised about Suguru fucking him, not sucking his dick or jerking him off, but fucking his ass. He fingered himself while doing it, face down and ass up like an omega in heat.
And he liked it.
Satoru isn’t sure what to make of it anymore. Something about Suguru is driving him crazy, causing him to defy his own nature in ways he’s never even imagined before. Is it normal for alphas to get aroused by the idea of being dominated and used as a hole? Satoru doesn’t think it is, but his cock disagrees, stirring in his pants.
He rubs his face, frowning at his computer screen. Part of him wants to google what the hell is happening to him, but he’s scared he won’t like the answer, so he refrains. Something is definitely going on, and Satoru would prefer ignoring the problem until it becomes too big and he doesn’t have a choice anymore.
When Suguru comes home, Satoru still hasn’t written a single word on his assignment and he feels a little guilty as he closes his computer without a sliver of hesitation. Suguru puts down two grocery bags on the counter and Satoru walks up, asking what’s for dinner tonight. The kitchen is big, and there’s lots of space, but Satoru can’t resist walking up right behind Suguru, so close that he can almost feel his body heat. He’s still wearing an inhibitor patch from being outside, and Satoru bites down the urge to growl in annoyance.
“What do you say?” Suguru asks, holding up a package of chicken and a head of lettuce. “Caesar salad or fried chicken?”
Satoru hums as he pretends to ponder the question, leaning in closer until he’s draped over Suguru’s back, his chin resting on his shoulder. He’s so close to the source of Suguru’s scent but the inhibitor patch is in the way, and he wants to rip it off with his teeth.
“Caesar salad” Satoru decides, his heart pounding in his chest. Suguru doesn’t seem put off by their closeness, and only nods, reaching for a chopping board. Satoru decides to test the limits, his hands sneaking around Suguru’s waist. He can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under his touch, hugging Suguru close as Suguru starts chopping up the lettuce.
“Such a good alpha” Satoru teases, unable to resist. “Providing for your omega”
It’s a crude joke, and it’s not even funny, and Suguru goes rigid in Satoru’s hold. He puts the kitchen knife down, slowly, before untangling himself from Satoru’s arms.
”Don’t joke about that” he says, a little curter than usual. He doesn’t smell angry or upset, but he’s not happy either, and that sends a pang of hurt through Satoru’s chest. Would it really be that awful, if they belonged to each other? Satoru grumbles to himself, taking a step back to put space between them. The air is tense, and something churns in his stomach, an urge to wreak havoc, an urge to be mean.
”Why not?” he challenges, even though he should stay quiet and let things blow over. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”
The words tumble out before Satoru can stop them because he’s always been like that, eager to pour gasoline on the fire simply to see what will happen. Suguru is driving him up the walls, fanning the flames of his growing desire to just… submit. It makes him want to snap back a little.
“You’ve been weird lately” Suguru says, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but don’t take it out on me”
That breaks through Satoru’s clouds a little, because Suguru sounds genuinely upset now and that’s not what Satoru wanted. This doesn’t feel at all like their silly high school fights, the teasing doesn’t make him feel elated, and Suguru’s disappointed frown makes Satoru feel ashamed of himself.
Satoru swallows, regretting his brazen words.
“Sorry” he mumbles, crossing his arms as he looks away. “I didn’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me either”
It’s a blatant lie, and Satoru knows that Suguru knows him too well to buy it, but Suguru seems to understand that the matter is too delicate for him to pry in so he nods, accepting it for now.
For the first time since he presented, Satoru’s rut is late.
The itch that Satoru scratched by fingering himself only eases up for a couple of days before it’s back again, and stronger this time.
It sits like a faint buzz right under his skin, making him feel a little hot and uncomfortable at all times. Satoru tries jerking off one evening just to test his theory out, and much like he expected, the orgasm is unsatisfying and boring.
He knows what he has to do.
Satoru has the decency to at least hesitate a little before digging up the offensively purple dildo from the bottom of his duffel bag. He’s sworn that he’ll throw it out so many times, but he ended up forgetting to, and now he's thankful for his bad memory.
He stares at the sex toy, nervously examining it. It’s bigger than his fingers, but smaller than Suguru, looking to be slightly above the average beta dick. It’s made of some kind of soft plastic, smooth to the touch and with fake veins running down the shaft.
Satoru throws a glance at the clock. Suguru is out at a bar with some friends from his philosophy course, and he’s not supposed to be back until later. That gives Satoru ample time to experiment with this toy and get to the bottom of this mystery.
With the dildo in one hand and a recently purchased bottle of lube in the other, Satoru sinks to his knees on the couch. He squirms out of his shirt and pants, only wavering for a moment before hooking his thumbs into his underwear and pulling them off. His dick is already half-hard, clearly interested in where this is going. Satoru lays out a towel on the couch before settling on his back, his heart thumping in his chest.
When he fingered himself, he was already a little delirious with arousal, and now that he’s clear-headed, the whole ordeal seems much more mortifying.
But Satoru isn’t a quitter so he squeezes a generous dollop of lube into his palm, slathering his fingers with it before reaching down. He’s googled how stretching works with betas, and it doesn’t seem difficult. The internet said to take his time and listen to his body, and that can’t be too hard, can it?
Satoru rubs his pucker, shivering a little at the pleasant, wet friction before pushing a finger inside. The intrusion feels as odd as he remembers it, and he frowns, squeezing his eyes shut. It doesn’t exactly feel good, that’s for sure, but it eases some of the burning discomfort in his stomach, so he’s gotta be doing something right. And the lube definitely makes things better.
Satoru pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, fucking himself slowly until he deems himself loose enough for a second one. All Satoru wants is to get to the main event as fast as possible but he forces himself to be patient, taking care to open himself up properly.
The couch is uncomfortable under his back, chafing in all the wrong places, but he doesn’t feel quite ready to crawl to his hands and knees yet so he remains where he is, ignoring the anxious gnawing at the pit of his stomach.
Satoru carefully works a third finger inside, wincing a little at the mounting burn. Is this what it feels like for male omegas, or are they looser? Satoru curls his fingers, searching for that spot that made sparks of pleasure fly. He can sense it somewhere deep inside but it’s just out of reach and his wrist has started hurting. Satoru pants as he twists on the couch, desperately trying to reach the magic spot.
He’s gotten hard somewhere along the line, his dick twitching pitifully as it dribbles on his stomach, but he pays it no mind, for once not interested in jerking off.
Satoru closes his eyes, pumping his fingers into his hole as he tries to picture something arousing. Unsurprisingly, Suguru’s face pops up in his mind and he gasps, the friction along his walls intensifying.
In his fantasy, Satoru is on his back like he is now, squirming around as Suguru scissors his fingers inside of him, trying to accommodate his tight hole to his impressive size. Satoru moans, shoving his free hand into his mouth to shut himself up. He’s being loud, and the last thing he wants is to be discovered.
Satoru sucks and licks his fingers, much like he did when he tasted Suguru’s cum for the first time, and the memory makes his dick jump on his stomach. He swivels his hips, trying to fuck his fingers deeper into his body. At some point, when he started thinking about Suguru, he stopped trying to stretch himself and simply started enjoying the ride.
Impatient, horny, and no longer nervous at all, he rips his fingers out and clumsily smears lube all over the dildo. He probably hasn’t stretched himself enough yet, the dildo is definitely thicker than three fingers, but the plan to be careful and take his time imploded the second he pictured Suguru.
Satoru rubs the purple plastic head against his rim before pushing it inside. The stretch is greater than before and his head lolls to the side as he gasps, trying to relax and welcome the intrusion. He feels so full already and he’s barely gotten an inch inside. If this is what a below average sized dildo feels like, what would it feel like to take a knot? Would it hurt to feel it shove inside his hole, popping into place, stretching his rim beyond its limits?
Satoru whines and his hands move on their own, shoving the dildo so deep inside that he sees stars. It hurts, and it’s uncomfortable, and somewhere at the back of his head, his inner alpha is screaming at the top of its lungs over the demeaning position he’s put himself in.
Satoru’s mouth falls open in a soundless moan as he fucks the dildo into his hole. He has far better leverage with the toy than he did with his fingers, and when he angles it he can ram it right into that delicious spot inside of him. Satoru scrambles to push his fingers back into his mouth again, sucking on them as he imagines them to be Suguru’s cock, thick and heavy, driving into his mouth and cumming down his throat.
Satoru’s whimpers are muffled around his spit-slicked fingers, and he spreads his legs further apart, rolling his hips to meet the dildo inside of him. The plastic has warmed up a little but it’s still too cold, too hard, probably nothing at all like a real dick. Satoru doesn’t want a dildo inside of him, he wants Suguru’s cock, much bigger and warmer and wetter. He came so much during his rut, his loads can’t be small outside of it either. He seems like the type to weep with precum, they probably wouldn’t even need lube, he could just push right inside and slide all the way in.
Satoru’s back arches off the sofa and he bites his fingers to stay quiet. The squelching sounds from below are filling the room and should probably make him feel embarrassed but he doesn’t care anymore, he only cares about the steadily rising heat in his groin. His orgasm is building slowly with every brush against his prostate, and when Satoru finally wraps his sticky fingers around his dick, he comes after only a couple of strokes.
Satoru screams as the pleasure explodes inside of him, clamping down on the dildo as cum splatters on his chest.
His body goes limp and he lies there for a couple of seconds, breathing heavily, before carefully pulling the dildo out. He winces, not loving how empty he feels without it, but he needs to clean it before Suguru comes home, or else they’re going to have some seriously awkward discussions.
Satoru trudges into the bathroom, his cheeks heating up every time he shifts and he feels the stickiness of the lube between his thighs. He washes the dildo carefully with soap before wiping himself clean from cum and lube as he thinks the whole situation over. After once again trying both jerking off and fucking himself, he can safely say that having something inside his ass is the only thing that truly quells this insatiable ache in his gut.
Satoru leans against the sink, studying his face in the mirror.
He feels a little weird about this newfound kink of his. It’s not unheard of, alphas who like to be on the receiving end, or even alphas who date other alphas, but Satoru never thought it would apply to him. Now here he is, washing his dildo after fantasising about taking Suguru’s knot.
Isn’t… isn’t he behaving a bit like an omega?
Satoru’s eyes widen and he sucks in a deep breath, his hands clenching around the porcelain edge of the sink. He shakes his head, trying to dispel his silly thoughts. He might be an alpha, and he might like taking it up the ass more than he expected, but that doesn’t mean… that doesn’t make him…
He’s still an alpha!
Still, he feels a little uneasy as he grabs the dildo and walks back into the living room. He folds the towel he covered the couch with and tosses it into the laundry basket before eyeing the dildo in his hand, wondering where he should hide it. It granted him the best orgasm since that day in the bathroom, so he’s sure to use it again, but he doesn’t want to put it someplace where Suguru risks finding it.
Maybe he can hide it among his clothes? It doesn’t feel safe enough, but it might be his only choice. The chances that Suguru will rummage through his clothes are extremely low. Or perhaps his bag is better? After all, it went undetected there for months. Suguru wouldn’t go through Satoru’s bag unless Satoru gave him a reason to.
Suddenly, there’s a jangling from the door, the sound of a key being turned. Panic floods Satoru’s system and he whips around, watching in horror as the door handle turns Suguru wasn’t supposed to be home until much later.
As quickly as he can, Satoru lifts one of the couch cushions and shoves the dildo as deep inside as he can, sitting down on top of it to hide his crime. He’s sweating bullets, swallowing anxiously as Suguru stumbles inside. It’s fine, he’ll hide it properly later, before Suguru does this month’s deep cleaning.
Satoru wipes his forehead, trying to relax and appear innocent.
“Hello” he calls out as Suguru kicks his shoes off in the dark hallway, swaying a little before responding with a grunt. Oh, Satoru realizes, he’s drunk. His mood lifts a little, because Suguru can be pretty hilarious when he’s drunk. Satoru shifts on the sofa so he’s facing the hallway, watching with mild amusement as Suguru walks into the living room with unsteady, wobbling steps.
He snickers, propping his elbow up on the backrest of the couch so he can rest his head in his palm. Suguru is wearing a loose-fitting tank top and big, baggy jeans, his black hair cascading like a waterfall down his back. He sinks down next to Satoru, rubbing his face before leaning over, his shoulder knocking into Satoru’s.
Satoru’s heart softens and he can’t help reaching over to tuck Suguru’s bangs behind his ears.
“Drunk?” he asks and Suguru nods before sighing, dragging a hand through his hair.
“There was a lot of beer” he confesses. “And maybe some fireball”
Satoru chuckles, shaking his head.
“You have a lecture tomorrow” he chastises Suguru. “You’re going to be so hungover that…”
Satoru cuts himself off as Suguru tenses up beside him, turning his head to stare at Satoru with wide, accusing eyes. His nostrils are flaring and even through his inhibitor patch, Satoru can sense the territorial pheromones his body is pumping out.
Satoru coughs, taken by surprise. Suguru’s pheromones are fucking potent, screaming at him that this place has been claimed.
“What?” he croaks out, twisting a little under Suguru’s gaze.
Wordlessly, Suguru grabs his jaw and twists it, baring Satoru’s throat and the scent gland at the back of his neck. For a second, Satoru’s mind goes blank, and all he can think about is how close Suguru is, how easily it would be for him to sink his fangs into his scent gland, to bite, mate, fuck. He’s pulled back to reality by his alpha instincts waking up, a little late but still there, and he wrenches out of Suguru’s hold, glaring daggers at Suguru.
“What are you doing?” he hisses, and Suguru blinks at him.
“Did you have someone over?” Suguru asks bluntly, and Satoru huffs, indignant and with flushed cheeks. Why did it take a couple of seconds for him to react? How embarrassing!
“Of course not!” he says angrily. “I wouldn’t bring an omega over to your apartment without asking”
Suguru stares blankly at him, looking unconvinced. Satoru’s throat still burns where Suguru grabbed him, his skin buzzing with electricity. He can’t believe he went along with it for a second, and even thought about being claimed by Suguru.
“But you…” Suguru trails off before looking away, clearing his throat. “You kind of… smell like one. A little sweet”
Satoru takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Suguru shouldn’t have grabbed him like that, but he’s drunk, and he thought Satoru invited a stranger into his home. Satoru can kind of understand why he’d be pissed.
“That’s probably my pre-rut pheromones” Satoru mutters. “Didn’t I tell you? My rut is late this time, so I don’t really know when it will hit”
Suguru looks away, fiddling with his hands in his lap, and Satoru deflates, all of his anger running off him like water.
“I’m sorry” Suguru mutters. “You smelled different and I got a bit… worked up”
“It’s fine” Satoru says, scooting closer so their thighs are pressed up against each other. “I get it. But I wouldn’t betray your trust like that, okay?”
Satoru hesitates before wrapping his hand Suguru’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. His gesture draws an odd noise out of Suguru, some kind of choked grunt followed by a cough. Satoru assumes that he’s embarrassed by the skinship and is about to remove his hand when he realises that his knuckles are brushing against something hard in Suguru’s lap.
In the apartment, it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and for a split second Satoru is frozen, his thoughts knocking into each other like billiard balls because Suguru’s cock is right there, it’s hard and Satoru is touching it.
After a beat too long, Satoru rips his hand away like he’s been burned, clutching it to his chest while he tries to think of something, anything, to say. Suguru looks shellshocked, staring at Satoru like he can’t believe what just happened.
“Shit” Satoru squeaks. “God I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know you were hard, I didn’t mean to… uh”
He’s rambling, but what else can he do? He accidentally touched Suguru’s dick and Suguru looks like something inside his brain has broken, his mouth dropping open only to snap close again like a fish on dry land.
“It’s totally fine by me” Satoru barrels on, digging his grave even deeper. “I mean, guys get hard all the time right? Nothing weird about that. Nothing weird about… about touching your bro’s dick”
Suguru keeps staring at like he’s grown a second head, and this is where Satoru should really stop, take a calming breath and stop talking, because the next words out of his mouth are:
“Would you like a hand with that?”
Suguru finally snaps out of his daze, flailing around like he’s been shot 57 times.
“What?”
He sounds shocked more than disgusted, his eyes as wide as saucers as stares in disbelief at Satoru who wants nothing but to take his words back. Curse his stupid brain, and his stupid mouth, and his stupid, stupid crush on Suguru. His cheeks burn so bright that they probably glow in the dark and he nearly bites his tongue off in his effort to smooth things over.
“It’s not that weird, is it?” he says, his voice rising in pitch. “Friends… friends help each other out all the time! It doesn’t have to mean anything. I feel so guilty, you can’t bring any omegas home because I’m crashing here. The least I can do is help you out”
He awkwardly gestures towards Suguru’s crotch and wishes he could chop his own arm off. Why would he go ahead and say something like that? It’s true that all he wants in this world is to taste Suguru’s cum just once more, but that doesn’t mean he can go ahead and offer his services. They’re best friends, and Satoru doesn’t want to ruin that friendship but now he has, and Suguru is going to be so disgusted with him and…
“Fine”
Satoru blinks.
… what?
He barely dares to breathe as he eyes Suguru, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Fine?” he echoes faintly, wondering if he misheard.
Suguru nods. He seems to have gotten over the initial shock, his eyes dark as he meets Satoru’s gaze head on.
“Fine” he repeats. “Go ahead. As you said… friends help each other out all the time, right?”
“Right” Satoru says, feeling a little dazed. Is this really happening? Surely it must be a dream. There’s no way Suguru would say yes to getting his dick sucked under an excuse as flimsy as ‘friends do this all the time’, except he’s spreading his legs a little bit, throwing an arm over the backrest as he leans backwards, getting comfortable.
Satoru’s mouth goes dry as he thinks of Suguru’s dick, how big and hard it had been when he jerked off in the shower. He’s spent so much time thinking about that dick, thinking about Suguru’s cum. Is he really going to let the opportunity slip now?
Suguru raises an eyebrow, his earlier surprise completely gone. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making him so nonchalant about the whole thing.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks and Satoru makes his decision.
He slides to the floor in front of Suguru, his hands trembling as he reaches for the button of Suguru’s jeans. He fumbles a little with the fly before pulling them down, Suguru raising his hips to help him.
Suguru’s sporting a pretty big tent in his boxers and Satoru swallows, gathering courage before pulling his underwear down.
Suguru’s dick springs out, flushed and hard, already leaking at the tip, and Satoru goes dizzy from the smell of musk and pheromones and Suguru. It takes all his willpower not to nuzzle his face into Suguru’s crotch like a bitch in heat. He brushes his fingers along the veiny shaft, drawing a shudder out of Suguru before gently grabbing it.
It’s warm and firm in his palm, and just as thick as he remembers it, maybe even thicker. Satoru shivers as he remembers his fantasies about taking this thing up the ass. How would that even be possible?
Satoru pumps Suguru’s dick a couple of times, experimenting with the pressure as he tries to read Suguru’s facial expressions. He has closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as he grunts softly in pleasure. He seems to like it a little softer than Satoru does, information that Satoru files away in case he ever gets to do this again.
When Satoru leans in, Suguru’s eyes fly open and his jaw drops as he feels Satoru’s breath on his cock.
“Wait Satoru, what are you-”
Satoru swipes his tongue across Suguru’s head, his ears ringing as he finally, finally gets to taste that sweetness on his tongue again, and Suguru cuts himself off with a groan. The apprehension bleeds out of Satoru and he wraps his lips around Suguru’s girth, hollowing his cheeks out as he sucks.
He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but judging by the way Suguru’s hand lands on his head, tangling in his hair as he lets out soft hisses, he’s doing something right. Satoru sinks further down the shaft, bobbing his head up and down. He’s never had a dick in his mouth before but he’s seen enough porn to know what it’s supposed to look like.
Suguru is big though, and Satoru feels a bit disappointed that he can’t even fit half of it in his mouth. He squeezes the parts he can’t reach before realising that he can move his hand in time with his mouth, twisting his fist around Suguru as he bobs up and down.
It’s good, the weight of Suguru on his tongue is delicious, but it’s not enough, and when Suguru cups his cheek, Satoru stills.
“Can I?” Suguru asks, and Satoru nods even though he’s not quite sure what Suguru is asking for. Suguru’s grip tightens in his hair and Satoru moans around the length in his mouth, the tingling pain in his scalp turning into pleasure. “Relax your throat”
That’s all the warning Satoru gets before Suguru thrusts into his mouth. Suguru is evidently careful to hold back, his hips moving with small, soft movements, but Satoru still gags, his throat constricting around Suguru’s cock.
Suguru grunts, throwing his head back as he pulls out before driving his cock back in, and tears well up in Satoru’s eyes as he tries to relax his jaw and throat, tries to accept Suguru’s length and girth.
As gentle as Suguru is being, it’s still a massive alpha cock being shoved down Satoru’s throat. In some angles, Suguru seems to completely block his airways, and Satoru frantically breathes when he has the chance, trying to work out a way to create suction when the cock slides in and out of his wet lips. Drool is running down his chin and Suguru holds him firmly in place, fucking into Satoru’s wet heat.
Satoru shoves his hand inside his pants, palming himself through his underwear. Despite cumming so recently, he’s already rock hard again. Satoru’s eyes flutter shut as he loses himself in the pleasurable friction on his dick, in Suguru’s scent filling his senses. The incense and sandalwood is there, along with masculine smell of musk and sweat, and it’s driving Satoru crazy.
If Suguru only knew how long Satoru has been dreaming about this.
Down at the base, Suguru’s knot has started swelling, indicating that he’s close. It’ll be smaller outside of his rut, but the warm flesh bumping against Satoru’s lips still makes his heart race. He’s started getting used to the feeling of Suguru’s tip hitting the back of his throat, working out how to fight his gag reflex, and if he just pushes a little harder, he’ll be able to take Suguru’s knot as well.
Satoru squeezes his own dick, jerking it with frenzied movements. Fuck, Suguru is going to knot his mouth at this rate.
“Shit Satoru” Suguru wheezes. “I’m gonna come, fuck, pull off”
Suguru tugs at his hair, his scalp screaming in protest as he resists, plunging down even further. He holds onto Suguru’s thighs, forcing his head down as far as he can, his lips stretching painfully wide as he shoves the knot into his mouth.
Suguru spasms underneath him, instinctively letting go of his hair to instead push his head down the final inch, locking his knot behind Satoru’s teeth. He shouts as he finally comes, semen gushing down Satoru’s throat.
Fresh tears roll down Satoru’s face because it tastes so good, he’s missed it so much, and his mind goes blank as he orgasms while desperately trying to drink all that he’s given. Ropes of cum keep spurting into his mouth and there’s so much of it, some of it dribbling past the knot and down his chin. How is it physically possible to cum this much? What kind of super alpha is Suguru?
Suguru’s orgasm lasts for what seems like minutes, and all Satoru can hear is his heavy panting and the gulps of his own throat, until there’s a final weak spurt and it’s over. Satoru remains on his knees, clutching his stomach where he can feel Suguru’s warm cum sloshing around. Suguru is quiet for a few moments, breathing heavily, and Satoru tries to flick his eyes up when Suguru jostles beneath him.
“Shit” Suguru mutters, gently prying Satoru’s mouth open to dislodge his knot. He winces a little as Satoru’s teeth graze the sensitive flesh before slipping out. Satoru falls back on his ass, gasping for air. His throat feels wonderfully sore, his lips rubbed raw from friction, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to orgasm on his own again. Nothing, no scented clothes and no dildos, measure up to the taste of Suguru’s cum.
He licks his lips, trying to gather the drops trickling down his face.
“I’m sorry” Suguru mutters and Satoru looks up. He’s rubbing the back of his head, looking awkward with his tense posture and his softening dick still hanging out.
Satoru clears his throat, wiping his slick face.
“It’s totally fine” he says, his voice hoarse. “As I said, we’re just bros helping each other out. No need to make a big deal out of it”
The haze of the orgasm is lifting and the guilt starts gnawing at him immediately, eating him up from the inside, because it’s all a big, fat lie. He isn’t doing this as Suguru’s bro, and he sure as hell doesn’t think it’s normal for friends to give each other blowjobs. Lying to Suguru makes him feel like crap, but if it’s the only way to keep tasting his cum while keeping their friendship intact, then Satoru will bite the bullet and do it.
Suguru hums concommittally before tucking himself in and pulling his jeans up.
“I guess” he says airily, standing up before wobbling a little. He frowns, rubbing his temples. “Fuck, I need a glass of water”
“I’ll go get it” Satoru says hastily, eager to put some distance between them before Suguru realises that he came in his underwear like a teenager. His heart thumps in his chest as he walks into the dark kitchen and fills a glass of water.
What will happen now?
The best case scenario is of course that Suguru wants to do this again. He seemed into it, making little noises of pleasure, and Satoru feels certain that while his technique might not have been perfect, not everyone can take a knot the first time they give a blowjob. However, there’s also a very big risk that Suguru wants to treat this as a one time thing, something they move on from and never talk about again.
Satoru suddenly realises that the glass has been overflowing for a while and turns off the tap. He walks back into the living room, handing Suguru the glass with exaggerated flourish. Suguru mumbles a thanks and tips it back, gulping down the water. Satoru watches the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, watches a drop of water escape his mouth and run down his chin, and decides that there’s no way he’s going to let this be a one time thing.
“If you ever need to blow off some steam, you can come to me” he says, avoiding eye contact as he feigns nonchalance. “I meant what I said, it’s my fault you can’t bring any omegas home so it’s only fair I take some responsibility”
He laughs, and hopes that it sounds somewhat natural.
Suguru is quiet for a few moments, regarding him with an odd expression on his face.
“I… yeah” he finally says. “Okay”
They don’t really talk about it after that.
There’s no need to.
Satoru wakes up the following morning and saunters into the kitchen where a massively hungover Suguru is nursing a cup of coffee. He snickers and asks if Suguru is feeling well, to which Suguru responds with a grunt. Satoru takes it upon himself to make smalltalk as he has breakfast, and before he leaves for uni, he grabs one of the boxed lunches Suguru has prepared for him.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary about the morning, or the lecture, but when Satoru comes home in the afternoon, Suguru comes out to the hallway with a weird look on his face. Satoru takes his shoes off and walks up to him, frowning as he opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but Suguru grabs his shoulder and shoves him to the ground, Satoru’s knees bruising against the hard wooden floor.
“Take responsibility” he all but whispers as he unbuttons his jeans, and Satoru smiles.
So for a while, things are pretty normal, except for the occasional blowjob. Suguru doesn’t knot his mouth again, which Satoru feels very bitter about, but he stops insisting on pulling out when he’s about to come, so Satoru tries to feel happy about the small victories. The Mongols didn’t conquer half of Eurasia overnight.
The daily routine goes something like this: they wake up around the same time, their bodies mysteriously having synced up shortly after becoming roommates, they have breakfast while bickering about something useless, they go to university if it’s a weekday, they come home, cook dinner together, and then Satoru gets on his knees and sucks Suguru’s dick. It’s very quickly gotten to the point where Suguru doesn’t even have to say the word, he just sends Satoru a look that makes Satoru’s knees so weak that he has no choice but to drop to the floor.
After a while though, things start changing. Not a lot, but something in their dynamic shifts.
One evening, when Suguru settles on the couch for a movie night, the spot next to him suddenly seems uninviting and uncomfortable, too soft and sunken down. Satoru doesn’t stop to think before settling down on the floor in front of Suguru, in between his legs.
Suguru is quiet for a couple of seconds before speaking up, his voice a little shaky for some reason.
“Aren’t you going to sit next to me?” he asks and Satoru turns his head, leaning it against Suguru’s thigh as he stares up into Suguru’s eyes. It strikes him that from Suguru’s point of view, he must look highly submissive down on the floor. He’s not sure why this realization makes him feel so hot, but he makes no move to get off the floor.
“The floor seemed more comfortable” he says with a shrug and Suguru lets it go.
They decide to watch SAW 2004, because Suguru is a freak who likes horror. Satoru doesn’t exactly mind it, but it’s not his first choice. As the movie rolls, progressively getting more and more bloody, Suguru sinks down in the sofa, spreading his legs so Satoru can nuzzle his face into Suguru’s thighs. He’s close to the scent glands on Suguru’s inner thighs and he pretends not to notice as he grazes them, covering himself in Suguru’s scent.
Being covered in Suguru’s pheromones makes him feel a bit dizzy and he lets out a blissful sigh, hoping that it will be drowned out by the main character screaming in agony as he saws his leg off on screen.
Satoru can feel himself growing hot and twitchy, squirming around on the floor. When the credits roll, he turns to Suguru, settling on his knees as he stares up at him with big, pleading eyes.
“Can I… can I suck you off?” he asks, trying to keep the desperate tone out of his voice and failing miserably. It’s the first time he’s asked Suguru for it, the first time he’s swallowed his pride and begged, but he can’t stand it anymore. He loves being on his knees before Suguru, and his throat is tingling with the need to be filled.
Suguru’s eyes are dark and he doesn’t say a word as he slowly unbuttons his jeans, beckoning Satoru forward.
Satoru doesn’t waste a second, taking the half-hard length into his mouth with tears of gratitude already building at the corners of his eyes.
It’s after that night that things officially shift between them. Suguru starts scenting him, not subconsciously by being in the vicinity but actively, rubbing the scent glands on his wrist when they’re having breakfast, pressing Satoru’s head against the ones on his thighs when he’s receiving a blowjob. One morning Satoru is on his way out when Suguru grabs him, his grip forceful on Satoru’s shoulder, rubbing his wrist against the gland below Satoru’s jaw, the one on the back of his neck. And really, Satoru should protest against such treatment, should buck and kick against being dominated like that, but all he does is let out a low whine as he accepts it.
Satoru no longer sits on the sofa next to Suguru when they watch movies, preferring the spot on the floor where Suguru is towering over him. A couple of months ago it would have irked him, but now it feels him with a warm sense of satisfaction. He fits so well there, surrounded by Suguru’s warmth and scent, and he doesn’t ever want to leave.
It’s a bit weird, but Satoru doesn’t think much of it.
It’s not a big deal.
Satoru’s rut is now a full month late.
Satoru walks into the bathroom, yawning as he does.
He’d agreed to go out with Suguru and the others, but he’s starting to wish they’d go home soon. It’s late, and they’re getting drunk, and hanging out with drunk people as the only sober one is never fun.
An omega is standing by the bathroom mirrors, fixing her lipgloss, and she jerks a little as Satoru walks in, twisting her head to look at him. Satoru feels a little guilty, but the bathrooms are gender neutral and he’s allowed to be there. He makes sure to avoid eye contact, trying to appear uninterested and like he doesn’t even notice she’s there. He reaches for the door to one of the stalls when she speaks up.
“Damn” she says, and Satoru pauses, wondering if she’s talking to him. “Whoever’s scenting you is laying it on thick”
He turns around to look at her, staring blankly in confusion and she giggles before turning back to the mirror, carefully applying gloss.
“Alphas like that are so annoying” she continues. “Like relax bro, nobody’s taking it from you”
Satoru isn’t quite following her reasoning. She’s obviously talking about Suguru, but what does she mean by ‘alphas like that’? Satoru is an alpha too.
“Anyway” she says, smacking her lips as she inspects her work. “You should tell them to tone it down. I don’t mind, but some omegas get jittery around heavily scented, unmated omegas. Makes them weirdly territorial”
Satoru swallows, his blood roaring in his ears.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not an omega” he says and the girl gives him an odd look over her shoulder. Satoru twists, uncomfortable with the open surprise on her face. “I’m an alpha” he explains.
She opens her mouth to say something but closes it again, giving him a scrutinizing glare that makes Satoru feel like a bug trapped under a disc of glass.
“I see” she says stiffly. “I’m sorry for… for assuming”
That evening when they get home, Suguru pushes Satoru up against the wall, rubbing his nose against the scent glands by Satoru’s jaw. Satoru wants to protest, recalling the weird conversation with the omega in the bathroom, but the words die on his tongue as Suguru nips on the sensitive skin, rolling his hips against Satoru’s. He moans, clinging to Suguru who hauls him up and tosses him on the couch. Satoru is strong, he’s taller than Suguru and should put up a fight but his limbs feel heavy, and he lets himself be manhandled, tossed around like a ragdoll. What was he supposed to ask Suguru about? He can’t remember anymore, especially not when Suguru straddles his chest and feeds him his delicious cock.
There’s a gnawing feeling at the back of his mind, an inkling that there’s something he’s missing, something important, but Satoru ignores it in favour of swallowing Suguru’s length down.
Perhaps because he’s drunk and not thinking straight, Suguru knots his mouth that night. And unlike last time, he remains where he is until the knot has fully deflated, forcing Satoru to warm his cock for an hour.
By the time he finally pulls out, Satoru’s limbs feel like they’ve turned to jelly, and he no longer remembers the conversation with the omega.
Three months into living with Suguru, Satoru wakes up one morning with feverish skin and a horrible itch all over his body, like thousands of ants are crawling across his skin. His damp sheets are twisted around his body, uncomfortable and stifling. Satoru gasps for breath, his head feeling thick and heavy.
Finally, after being late for a month, he’s in pre-rut. It feels a bit different from usual; he’s hotter for one, and in a much worse mood. Everything around him feels wrong, the fabric rubbing like sandpaper against his skin, the couch cushions digging into him like rocks. Perhaps ruts get a bit weird from living with an alpha.
Satoru sits up, bleary-eyed and annoyed, scanning the apartment for Suguru. He grumbles to himself when he sees the door to Suguru’s room open, with no Suguru in sight. It’s Saturday so he doesn’t have class, meaning that he’s probably out shopping.
Satoru drags his body out of bed, stumbling towards the kitchen. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers but his skin is glistening with sweat, and his throat is painfully dry. None of his pre-ruts have ever felt this intense, or come this unexpectedly.
Satoru gulps down three glasses of water before walking back to the living room. He glares at the couch, hating where it stands, in the middle of the room. It doesn’t make any sense, and he grabs it, pushing it up against the wall before taking the couch cushions, arranging them on the floor. A frustrated whine slips out of his mouth because it still looks wrong. It looks stupid and ugly, and Satoru has no idea what to do about it.
He frantically searches through his drawers, ripping out all of his softest clothing. He rubs it against his scent glands for good measure before laying his clothing out around the cushions. It looks a little better now, but it’s still not good enough.
Satoru walks into Suguru’s room, stopping in the doorway to breathe in Suguru’s pheromones, more concentrated here than in the rest of the apartment. He quickly gathers his clothes and the cushions and brings them into Suguru’s room, laying them out on the bed. The pile of clothes looks better now, much more inviting.
Satoru rummages through Suguru’s laundry basket, grabbing a sweater, a t-shirt and a pair of pants, working them into his little pile. Satoru hums happily, finally pleased with how it’s looking. He keeps arranging and rearranging Suguru’s clothes to properly integrate them, occasionally scenting them to mix their pheromones.
Satoru feels a little better now, but it’s still not perfect. Something is missing and he doesn’t know what, and the frustration is driving him crazy. It feels like he’s acting on some primal impulse but without knowing quite what to do, and that makes him feel angry and disappointed in himself, like he’s some kind of failure.
When the door opens and Suguru steps inside, holding two grocery bags, Satoru lets out a relieved sigh, rushing out to the hallway.
“Hey” Suguru greets him as he takes off his shoes. “I got us-”
He cuts himself off, sniffing the air. His eyes widen and he stares at Satoru who approaches him, wringing his hands in stress.
“Satoru” Suguru says, his mouth agape. “You’re…”
“I know, I know” Satoru says, waving his hand. His body temperature is steadily rising and he doesn’t want to waste time talking. “Pre-rut. Give me your scarf”
Suguru blinks at him like Satoru has gone insane. Which he might have, who knows.
“My scarf?” Suguru repeats and Satoru nods eagerly, stretching a hand out.
“I need it” he says, and after a moment’s hesitation, Suguru loosens his scarf and gives it to Satoru. It’s been rubbing right up against his scent glands and Satoru knows it will fit so perfectly in his… in his whatever it is. He hurries back to Suguru’s room, rearranging the hoodie and cushions to find the perfect place for Suguru’s scarf.
He hears footsteps behind him and then the crash of something dropping to the floor. Satoru looks over his shoulder to see Suguru standing there with an ashen expression on his face, tomatoes rolling across the floor from the bag he’s just dropped. The way he’s staring, with an open mouth and wide eyes, makes Satoru feel angry and upset.
“What?” he snaps, ignoring the stinging pain in his chest. “I know it’s not perfect but it’s not done yet, okay?”
He crawls up on the bed, carefully placing Suguru’s hoodie on top of a cushion only to change his mind, moving it a little to the side. An irritated growl is buzzing at the bottom of his throat. Why can’t he get it right? And why is Suguru staring at him like that, like he’s failing his duties? It’s not fair, he’s trying his best.
“Satoru” Suguru breathes, and Satoru looks up. Through his daze, it finally hits him that he’s on all fours in Suguru’s bed, arranging clothes he stole from the laundry basket. He flushes a little in embarrassment, wondering how on earth he’s going to explain this. Suguru clears his throat before looking away. “Are you… are you sure you’re in rut?”
Satoru frowns at the weird question, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. Seriously, what’s up with this fever? It feels like he’s burning up.
“Of course I am” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Suguru keeps avoiding his eyes, staring into the wall while he shifts his weight between his feet, looking like he doesn’t want to answer.
“You’re nesting” he mutters and Satoru stills.
Nesting?
No way. Nesting is something omegas do when they’re in heat. Satoru doesn’t nest, he’s an alpha.
“No I’m not” Satoru laughs, fiddling a little with Suguru’s scarf. “I’m just… the cushions were in the wrong place. I’m almost done here so-”
“Satoru” Suguru interjects harshly and Satoru’s jaw snaps close. “You… this isn’t a rut”
Suguru finally meets his gaze, staring deep into Satoru’s eyes. Suguru looks tense, his fist clenched as his nostrils flare in the air. Satoru wonders if Suguru is angry, but then he catches a whiff of Suguru’s pheromones, heavy despite the inhibitor patch and laced with the unmistakable sweetness of desire. Satoru breathes in deeply and moans out loud, causing Suguru to twitch where he’s standing.
“Satoru” he drawls, taking a step closer. “I’m going to try something”
He peels the inhibitor patch off his neck and tosses it on the floor. Satoru mewls as he’s assaulted by Suguru’s heady pheromones. He smells so good, so virile and dominant, ready to take Satoru, ready to claim Satoru.
Suguru opens his mouth, his voice hoarse and his pupils dilated as he grabs Satoru’s jaw, forcing his head up until they’re making eye contact.
“Submit” he growls.
And Satoru fucking whines, a deep, drawn-out whine of submission as his body goes lax and pliant in Suguru’s hands. The command, along with the heavy waves of dominating pheromones rolling off Suguru, has rendered him absolutely defenseless. He can feel his back arching, pushing his ass higher up in the air. Something sweet unfurls like a cloud in his brain, drowning out his useless thoughts and instincts, filling him instead with a burning heat of accomplishment. It feels so good, like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.
Suguru stares at Satoru with shocked eyes. His hand is trembling below Satoru’s jaw, inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, stroking his scent glands. Shivers rack through Satoru’s body every time Suguru does that, and somewhere at the very back of his hazy mind, Satoru is distantly aware that he’s drooling.
“Holy shit” Suguru breathes, like he can’t quite believe it himself. “I didn’t think… I thought… fuck, Satoru, what have you done?”
Satoru opens his mouth and whines again, deep in his throat, trying to communicate his need to Suguru. His need for what? Satoru isn’t entirely sure himself. He needs Suguru to be closer, to touch him, envelop him in his scent. Satoru rubs his thighs together, sure that he isn’t imagining the wetness he feels between them. Yeah, he definitely needs Suguru there as well.
Suguru’s eyes burn as he wipes away the saliva running down Satoru’s chin with the swipe of a thumb. Satoru sucks in air when Suguru pops the finger into his mouth, licking it clean while maintaining eye contact. He groans as he pulls it out, and Satoru no longer thinks he’s imagining the tent he sees in Suguru’s pants.
“Yeah” Suguru hisses darkly. “Definitely an omega. Shit, how the fuck did you even do this?”
Satoru’s reason is slipping, replaced by a burning desire, and he can’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.
“Please Suguru” he begs. “I need you, I don’t care just… touch me, take me, claim me, I need you…”
Suguru hisses, ripping his hand away like he’s been stung. Satoru whines at the loss, moving with a viper’s speed as he grabs it and pulls it back.
“Please” he whispers, sucking Suguru’s fingers into his mouth, laving his tongue across the digits. Suguru closes his eyes, his shoulders tensing. He’s clearly exercising his last, crumbling sliver of self-restraint and Satoru wants to break it.
“You’ll regret it” he tries helplessly. “It’s your… your heat talking, you’re not yourself right now”
Satoru pulls off, giving Suguru’s fingers small kitten licks as he stares up at Suguru through his lashes.
“Not true” he mumbles. “Wanted this for so long. When you had your rut I stole your toys, licked them clean. You, fuck, you taste so good Suguru. I couldn’t get enough. I fucked myself you know? Used that dildo you gave me and pretended it was you”
Suguru’s gaze is darkening, his hand trembling in Satoru’s grip as Satoru slowly breaks through his defenses with his words.
“I lied to you” Satoru admits, shamelessly even for him. “Friends don’t suck each other off, they don’t drink each other’s cum or smell their clothes to jerk off. I just said that so you’d give me your cum, I was going crazy, I could barely get hard without thinking about you holding me down and-”
Suguru snaps.
The growl that rises in his throat is a deep rumble, like thunder, and Satoru sighs blissfully as Suguru grabs his hair, wrenching him up so he’s on his knees.
“You licked my toys?” he asks darkly and Satoru nods pitifully. “You drank my cum? You… you fucked yourself thinking about me?”
“Yes” Satoru babbles, nodding deliriously. “I want you so bad, I think I’ve always wanted you, God Suguru, please let me have you”
The fact that he’s on his knees, begging for another alphas knot without feeling an ounce of humiliation is a testimony to how far gone he is. Satoru has been patient, he’s treated this matter with some level of delicacy and discretion, but with his body burning with heat he doesn’t think he can do that anymore. His mind is swimming, his eyes glossy and his stomach aching with how empty it feels, and he is certain that if Suguru doesn’t fill him up now he’s going to die.
Suguru shoves him back down and Satoru relishes in the feeling of being bossed around, of being at Suguru’s mercy, his cock straining in his underwear.
Suguru pulls his shirt off, his muscles rippling with the movement, and Satoru stares appreciatively at the sight.
“Take your clothes off” Suguru orders. “And turn around”
Satoru scrambles to follow his command, his heart thumping in his chest as his shirt and pants follow Suguru’s shirt on the floor. When he peels his underwear off they’re damp with something, and they land on the floor with a wet slap. Suguru draws a shaky breath when Satoru turns around, steadying himself on his elbows as he raises his ass into the air.
Satoru twists his head to look over his shoulder, his skin breaking out into goosebumps when he sees Suguru standing there by the edge of the bed, painfully hard in his boxers and a wild glint in his eyes.
Satoru can’t resist spreading his legs a little.
“Will you come claim this omega?” he entices, his voice slipping into something coy despite his frazzled, desperate appearance. “Won’t you come knot me? Come on, I know you want to”
Suguru crawls onto the bed, grabbing his hips with bruising force, forcing a shocked moan out of Satoru as he spreads Satoru’s cheeks.
“Who even knows if you really are an omega?” he grumbles, kneading Satoru’s ass cheeks. “Better check, just to be sure”
Satoru feels a hot puff of air against his hole and his eyes fly open.
“Wait Suguru, what are you…”
Then he feels the first swipe of Suguru’s tongue against his rim and he whimpers, his face falling into his arms as he nearly collapses on the bed. He knew his entrance was sensitive, but this is on another level. Is it because of the heat? Or is it because it’s Suguru’s tongue? Satoru doesn’t know, but when Suguru licks again sparks fly and Satoru’s hips seem to move on their own, rutting back against that delicious, wet muscle.
“Fuck Satoru, you really are wet” Suguru marvels, his lips moving against Satoru’s entrance. He licks again before wriggling his tongue inside, sucking at the rim. He squeezes Satoru’s thighs and Satoru feels his fingers sliding across the skin, wet from the slick that has dribbled out. Suguru moans, the vibrations sending shivers up Satoru’s spine.
He’s writhing on the bed, gasping for air as Suguru mercilessly tongues his hole, seemingly dead set on drinking as much of his slick as he can. He can hear it, below his own moans and the squelches of Suguru’s tongue: the faint gulps of Suguru’s throat as he swallows Satoru’s slick.
The sounds drive Satoru almost as crazy as the pleasure.
“Suguru” he whispers, and Suguru pulls off. Weak, trembling with the effort of holding himself up, Satoru turns to look at him, nearly sobbing when he sees Suguru lick his lips to catch the last, lingering drops.
“You taste amazing” Suguru says, running a hand through his hair. There’s a crazed look in his eyes, and his pheromones seem even more potent than before. Fuck, Satoru isn’t sending him into a rut, is he? “You’ve always smelled so fucking good and you taste even better”
Satoru’s eyes flutter shut at the praise and he reaches down with shaky hands to jerk off his painfully hard dick. The friction feels incredible but it doesn’t ease the ache inside and he tightens his grip, chasing the relief that he needs. His hand seems to almost engulf the whole thing. Was his dick always this small? He feels sure that it was bigger before. And why isn’t his knot swelling?
Suguru laughs breathlessly, no doubt excited by the sight of Satoru, once such an obstinate alpha, on all fours, desperately jerking off as slick gushes out of his fluttering hole.
“You really are desperate for it” Suguru says before shoving a finger inside with no warning at all. Satoru throws his head back as he howls in pleasure, letting go of his cock to scramble for purchase on the bed. “Should have bitched you long ago if I knew it would be this easy”
Satoru sobs, pushing his ass back on Suguru’s fingers. Despite the humiliating words, or perhaps because of them, he feels a fresh wave of slick dribble down the back of his thighs. He pulls at the sheets, trying to ground himself as Suguru fucks his finger in and out of his hole before adding another one. His hole takes him so well, relaxing and welcoming the intrusion immediately, and it goes much faster than when Satoru did it on his own.
Suguru crooks his fingers and finds that special spot, the one that makes Satoru’s mouth fall open and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
“There” he whimpers, and Suguru laughs, adding a third finger before fucking back into him, abusing his prostate.
“There?” he repeats, his tone a little mean, and Satoru can only nod. He’s torn between wanting to be praised and needing more of the hot flashes that zap through him when Suguru humiliates him. “God you’re so pathetic. Look at your useless cock, hanging there untouched. Did you ever think you’d put that somewhere? What a joke, you’re made for being fucked”
Satoru’s mouth is hanging open, a clear stream of drool dropping onto the mattress beneath him. He can hardly think, much less speak coherently when Suguru talks to him like that, forcing him further into submission.
“Enough” he slurs, using what feels like the last of his lucidity. “I want your… I want your cock”
Suguru snickers.
“My cock?” he asks, punctuating his words with a brutal jab against Satoru’s prostate. “You sure that’s all you want?”
Satoru vehemently shakes his head.
“No” he cries. “I want your knot too, I need it”
Suguru curses under his breath before pulling his fingers out, leaving Satoru feeling horribly empty. He hears the sounds of Suguru lathering his length with his slick and when he finally feels the blunt head of his cock rubbing against his entrance, his arms give out, his face smashing into the mattress.
Suguru chuckles and keeps rubbing himself against the entrance, sometimes applying a little pressure so he just almost slips inside, and Satoru whines in dismay.
“So needy” Suguru mumbles, most likely enjoying the view. Satoru can only imagine what he looks like, with his face in the mattress and his ass lifted high in the air, the perfect position for breeding. “I can’t believe this is happening” Suguru confesses as his dick catches on the rim. “You used to be such a little shit, battling for dominance every chance you got. Look at you now, face down and ass up, begging to be fucked”
Satoru tries to push his hips up, hoping to guide Suguru’s cock inside but Suguru grabs his hips hard enough for it to hurt, keeping him still.
“Your cock looks so small next to mine” Suguru says, sounding absolutely delighted. “You’re not even half my size”
For some reason, that’s what truly breaks Satoru. Maybe it’s because he knows that he hasn’t always been half Suguru’s size, or maybe it’s just the nasty comparison, but his mind snaps and goes blank, a thick dribble of slick trickling out of him.
Finally, Suguru takes mercy on him and pushes inside.
The stretch burns, since they didn’t at all prep Satoru enough, but Satoru still cries out as the empty ache is soothed at last, and he screams himself hoarse as his cock spurts all over the bed, thin, watery streams of cum that wouldn’t get anyone pregnant.
“Damn” Suguru groans as he forces his way inside, stretching Satoru’s hole to its limits. “You like that? Hearing about how useless your cock is while I fuck your hole?”
Satoru nods, letting out a noise that he can’t even classify as Suguru rocks in and out of him, trying to open him up.
“I’m not even all the way in and you already came” Suguru says.
He’s not all the way in yet? It already feels like Satoru is being split in half, his body desperately trying to accommodate the hard length. Satoru’s dick stays hard, letting out weak dribbles of precum as Suguru sheathes himself completely inside of him.
“Fuck Satoru, you feel so good” Suguru praises, lighting something on fire in Satoru’s guts. He wants to respond to the praise but he isn’t sure he can talk; Suguru is so deep inside that Satoru can almost taste it, rearranging his insides until they’re moulded after his shape.
Suguru pulls out a little before thrusting back in, snapping his hips at a brutal pace that has Satoru’s body rocking back and forth with his movements. Every time he drives into Satoru’s heat he brushes past his prostate and Satoru bites the sheets, desperately trying to muffle his moans.
“You look so lovely like this” Suguru pants, staring down at the point where their bodies meet, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of himself sliding in and out. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you? So beautiful, my Satoru, you’re doing so well”
Satoru sniffles, no longer sure if the fluids on his face are sweat, tears or drool. If the verbal humiliation felt like lightning strikes then the praise feels like gently fluttering heat building up in his gut. If Suguru keeps this up, he’s going to come again.
“I want to breed you” Suguru says before grabbing Satoru’s hair, pulling his torso up so his chest is flush against Satoru’s sweaty back. His fingers swiftly find their way into Satoru’s mouth, muffling his cries as he grinds his hips, aiming for Satoru’s sweet spot. “Can I do that? Can I fuck you full of my cum until you're pregnant?”
Satoru gurgles around Suguru’s fingers and nods, saliva dripping down his chin as his eyes roll back. In that moment, he wants nothing but for Suguru to fuck a baby into him. Suguru cums so much, there’s no way it wouldn’t take.
“That’s it” Suguru mumbles nonsensically, picking up pace. “I’m gonna fuck you nice and full of cum, until it’s dripping out of every hole. Gonna breed you, over and over, until you don’t care about anything else. That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Sitting on my cock all day, doing nothing but take my knot again and again”
He punctuates his words with a particularly vicious thrust and Satoru almost bites down on the fingers in his mouth. It doesn’t feel like he’s in his own body anymore, it feels like he’s floating on a cloud somewhere, drowning in pleasure. Distantly, he feels his hole burn as it is further stretched, something swollen trying to make it past the rim.
“I’m going to cum” Suguru groans, licking a stripe up Satoru’s neck before nibbling on his scent gland. It sends sparks all the way out to Satoru’s fingertips and his brain switches off entirely, every cell in his body screaming at Suguru to bite him, claim him, bite him. “Can I cum inside of you?”
Suguru pulls his fingers out to let Satoru answer and Satoru’s head lolls forwards, exposing his nape.
“Suguru” he gasps. “Bite me”
Suguru hisses, circling an arm around Satoru’s waist to keep his limp body upright.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he has the presence of mind to ask and Satoru whimpers as he feels the growing knot catch on his rim when Suguru slowly fucks it into him.
“Yes” he pleads. “I need you to claim me”
Suguru goes quiet when his knot slips into place, locking their bodies together. It stretches Satoru so wide that it almost hurts, and he feels something hot filling him as Suguru cums, obscene amounts as always. Satoru is going to be full for weeks, won’t be able to walk anywhere without cum trickling out of him. Suguru kisses the back of his neck and then his fangs sink into Satoru’s scent gland, breaking the skin, and Satoru’s vision goes white as he cums.
It’s not a complete claim, Satoru can feel deep inside of him that it hasn’t really taken, but it still stings in such a good way, breaking through the rage of emotions inside of him like a ray of calming light.
Suguru lets go, licking away the blood before twisting Satoru’s head to kiss him.
The angle is a little odd, with Satoru’s neck straining to kiss Suguru over his shoulder, but Suguru’s lips are plush and gentle as he feeds Satoru his blood and Satoru moans softly into the kiss. He was so caught up in his heat that he completely forgot this step, and he melts into it, sighing contentedly as Suguru gently coaxes his mouth open with his tongue.
The fall onto the bed, exchanging lazy kisses until they fall asleep, with Suguru’s knot still tying them together.
When Satoru wakes up, the first thing he sees is Suguru.
He blinks, watching Suguru’s eyelids flutter in his sleep and smiles. His limbs feel hot and heavy, still buzzing pleasantly, and Satoru would stretch like a cat if not for the fact that Suguru has his arms possessively wrapped around his waist.
The heat-like symptoms are gone today, confirming Satoru’s suspicions that it was more of a mild pseudo-heat. Most heats last for around three to seven days, but Satoru already feels normal again. He probably isn’t fully bitched, somewhere between an omega and an alpha. He’ll have to go see a doctor as soon as possible to check what’s going on with his body, and if the mating bite took.
Satoru watches as Suguru’s nose twitches and he stirs, his eyes slowly opening. For a minute, they stare at each other and then Suguru freezes, yanking his arms from Satoru and jumping away, tumbling off the bed with a loud thud in the process. He lands on his ass, his hair a bird’s nest from sleep and his eyes wide open. He looks a bit funny, almost endearing, with his messy hair and shocked expression, his morning wood standing tall and proud, and Satoru would laugh if not for the bitter feeling spreading through his chest.
Not quite the reaction he’s been hoping for.
“Good morning to you too” he says sourly and Suguru’s hands flail around uselessly, as if he can’t decide if he should cover up his own modesty or pull the sheets higher up Satoru’s naked chest.
“Satoru” Suguru croaks out, sounding genuinely panicked as the memories from last night wash over him. “I… fuck, I didn’t… I’m so sorry, God how will I ever…”
Satoru swallows the bitter lump that’s clogging up his throat, fighting the tears stinging in his eyes. After last night, he felt so sure that Suguru felt the same, that he too wanted Satoru. They had sex and afterwards they kissed each other sweetly until they fell asleep. Did it really mean nothing? Nothing at all? Was even the mating bite the result of some weird hormones?
Satoru thought Suguru wanted it, wanted him, and a sharp pain stabs him through his ribs because Suguru looks like he’s been slapped.
Satoru rolls over so his back faces Suguru. He can’t look at him right now, and he sure as hell doesn’t want Suguru to see the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Behind him, he can hear some rustling, and then Suguru taking a deep breath.
“I’m really sorry, Satoru” he says, every word hitting Satoru like a bullet. “You weren’t in your right mind and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that. I didn’t bitch you on purpose, I swear, but I understand if you never want to see me again, especially after I claimed-”
Satoru can’t stand it anymore. He whirls up from where he’s lying, sitting up on the bed as he glares at Suguru, anger seeping into his pheromones.
“Who the fuck says I wasn’t in my right mind?” he says hotly as Suguru’s face blurs with tears. “Seriously, where the hell did you get that from? Did you listen to anything I said last night?”
Suguru doesn’t say anything and Satoru angrily wipes his eyes, rubbing them raw in his attempts to stop crying.
“I bitched myself you fucking idiot” he says. “Sure, I didn’t mean to, but it was my doing. I wanted you, I think I’ve wanted you ever since we were kids and I teased you every chance I got because I couldn’t stand you looking at other people for even a second, so don’t fucking tell me that you… that you took advantage of me, because that hurts my fucking pride. Don’t dismiss my feelings so easily”
Satoru desperately wipes his wet cheeks, unable to stop talking now that he’s finally taken the plunge.
“I’m in love with you, okay?” he says miserably, his fists clenching around the sheets pooling around his waist. “That whole thing about ‘friends help each other out’ was a big fat lie. I didn’t want to be friends, I still don’t, I just said that so I’d get to suck your dick. So if anyone’s taken advantage of someone, it’s me”
Satoru sniffles, looking away so he won’t have to see Suguru’s slack-jawed face. His heart is thundering in his chest, his stomach nervously twisting in knots even though he already knows Suguru’s answer, and he braces himself for the impact. At least his chest feels a little lighter, a little less tightly wound now that the secret has been let out.
Perhaps he can move on from this. Perhaps they’ll just need a bit of time away from each other and then they’ll be fine, they’ll forget about having had sex with each other, Satoru will move back home and go back to being an alpha and Suguru will forget what his slick tastes like, what it feels like to knot Satoru, and he’ll find some other, nice omega who can…
Satoru’s heart jerks in pain, and he sobs wretchedly. Who is he kidding? He’s known Suguru for most of his life, how on earth could he ever move on from that? How can things ever be normal between them, now that Satoru knows what his semen tastes like? He’ll never forget that, and their friendship is ruined and…
“Say that again” Suguru whispers, his voice hoarse. Satoru stares into the wall, hating the way his treacherous heart hopefully speeds up.
“What” he says dully, trying to squash down the hope washing through him like a tidal wave.
He hears the rustle of Suguru moving and feels the bed dip as Suguru sits down beside him, his hand aimlessly flitting around like he’s not sure where to put it. Finally, he slides it around the curve of Satoru’s cheek, gently turning his head so they’re looking each other in the eye.
“That you love me” Suguru says, and Satoru’s heart stops in his chest because Suguru’s eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
Satoru’s mouth drops open in a soft gasp.
Oh.
He swallows, carefully nuzzling into Suguru’s warm palm.
“I love you” he mumbles against the skin and a shudder racks through Suguru’s whole body.
“Again” he whispers, raising his other hand to cradle Satoru’s face.
“I love you” Satoru repeats and Suguru whimpers as he starts crying, his shoulders shaking. He falls forward, resting his forehead in the crook between Satoru’s neck and shoulder, and Satoru feels the warm drops hit his skin.
“Again” Suguru pleads, helplessly, and Satoru smiles as he puts his arms around Suguru’s torso, carding his fingers through Suguru’s hair.
“I love you” he says softly, feeling Suguru’s torso convulse under his hands. “Do you… do you love me too Suguru?”
Suguru nods fervently, hugging Satoru back with a sense of hesitance, like he’s not yet sure he’s allowed to touch.
“I do” Suguru confesses, and it punches the air out of Satoru. “I love you so much, you have no idea”
He draws a shaky breath before pulling back, staring at Satoru with wet eyes, his eyelashes clumped together.
“I’ve loved you for years” he says, and Satoru claws at his shirt, trying to steady himself. “Ever since we graduated and I saw you in that stupid outfit, wearing the biggest grin as you told me we had to go to the same uni. I never thought… I never even dared to dream…”
Satoru quietly hushes him, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp.
“I’m sorry it took me so long” he says with a sad smile. “I was… well, a little stupid I guess. After I walked in on you masturbating I couldn’t think of anything but your dick for weeks, and I still didn’t figure it out until I ate your cum”
That draws a wet laugh out of Suguru, and he wipes his running nose.
“Gross” Satoru says, endeared.
He lies down on the bed, pulling Suguru along with him. Suguru curls up against his side, resting his head on Satoru’s chest.
“I can’t believe you did that” Suguru mumbles, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You really are shameless”
“Hey” Satoru mutters, lightly flicking Suguru’s forehead. “If you found out that your hot alpha roommate, no shut up, let me finish, cums buckets, and said cum was right in front of you smelling absolutely delicious, would you have been able to stop yourself?”
Suguru chuckles, his breath tickling Satoru’s nipple.
“Probably not” he says. His arms are still tightly looped around Satoru’s body, like he’s scared Satoru will disappear if he lets go, but his muscles are relaxing, his pheromones growing steady and calming.
They lie in silence for a couple of minutes, just basking in each other’s presence and the afterglow of their confessions. Satoru scratches Suguru’s scalp and Suguru hums in pleasure, tangling their legs together. Against his hip, Satoru can feel Suguru’s morning wood pressing into him, but oddly enough it doesn’t fill him with desire as much as a pleasantly tingling happiness. It feels intimate, rather than sexy, and he wants to relish in that feeling a little longer.
“So” Suguru finally says, breaking the silence. “What are you going to do?”
He doesn’t need to elaborate for Satoru to understand what he’s getting at, and Satoru sighs, staring up into the ceiling.
“I don’t know” he confesses. “Heats usually last at least three days, right? Meaning I’m probably not fully bitched. I don’t know. I guess I’ll go see a doctor today”
Suguru hums in understanding.
“And if it’s…”
Suguru trails off, his voice wavering before he takes a deep breath and continues.
“If it’s reversible, what will you do then?”
Satoru understands why Suguru is asking; deep down, below his gloating alpha instincts, he probably feels guilty about changing Satoru’s body, even if it was just as much Satoru’s fault. He knows that if Satoru decides to reverse the effects, Suguru will respect that, even if it means they can’t see each other for a while. Suguru might even insist on it himself, isolate himself ‘for your sake’, and while Satoru loves him for that, this is something he wants to decide on his own.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there” Satoru says, like he’s Julius Caesar marching towards Rubicon in 49 B.C.
Suguru nods, tickling Satoru’s chest with his long hair. Satoru presses a kiss to the crown of his head, trying to channel the love threatening to make his chest burst. He hopes that Suguru has understood how much he means to Satoru, how much Satoru genuinely loves him. And if not, Satoru will happily spend every day for the rest of his life convincing him.
Satoru smiles to himself.
Spending the rest of his life with Suguru doesn’t sound so bad.
Satoru gets an emergency appointment with a doctor the following day.
At first, he insists that Suguru should come along, but when Suguru calmly explains that no doctor in their right mind would let the alpha who bitched him into the examination room, he gives up. It makes a lot of sense; the doctor will probably send away Suguru anyways, in case the bitching is the result of abuse, so there’s no point in Suguru coming.
Still, it makes him grumble unhappily as he walks into the hospital, the faux claiming bite at the back of his neck itching for his mate.
The doctor Satoru meets is a beta in his forties, a man with a receding hairline and a professional smile. He asks some questions, scribbling down Satoru’s answers, and Satoru explains why he’s there, why his roommate thinks he may be on track to become an omega, and how it happened, though he greatly censors the retelling of their sex life and conveniently forgets about the bathroom incident.
They draw blood and then Satoru kills some time in the waiting room before he’s called back an hour later.
The doctor smiles at him, still calm and reassuring as he gestures for Satoru to sit down in the chair across from him. He clicks around a little on his computer, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before speaking.
“So, Gojo” he says. “Based on what you’ve told me, and the results from the test, it does seem like you’re on the verge of becoming an omega”
Satoru waits for the anxiety to hit him, the fear and terror of knowing that his body is changing, and feels surprised when it doesn’t come.
The doctor continues.
“Cases like this are very rare, but they can occur when an alpha repeatedly engages in omega-like behaviour for an extended period of time. Being scented, submitting, and having sexual intercourse with another alpha are all things that kickstart the process, though for most it doesn’t go far enough to cause noticeable changes”
Satoru feels a little dizzy with the onslaught of information, and a bit embarrassed at hearing the doctor list the explicit and intimate things he’s done with Suguru in such a medical way.
“To know exactly how far along you are we’ll need a more detailed analysis of your bloodwork, and that will take about a week” he explains. “But I’d say you’re about halfway there, though this is of course only an estimate and should be taken lightly”
Satoru nods. He already assumed that he wasn’t a fully blown omega yet.
“The bite hasn’t taken, and there’s no risk of pregnancy yet, so you don’t have to worry about that” the doctor says before turning his screen to show a diagram that Satoru can't figure out for the life of him. “I’m going to ask an invasive question now, but is the sexual intimacy you’re having consensual?”
Satoru blushes a little and quickly nods. He’s not usually scared to talk about sex, but in such a sterile environment, with fluorescent lights buzzing in the ceiling, it feels awkward.
“Good” the doctor says. “If not, we have hotlines and support groups that can help you get in touch with-”
“It’s fine” Satoru interjects, understanding why the doctor is exercising caution but uncomfortable from hearing him speak about Suguru in such a way. “I promise it’s 100% consensual”
The doctor nods and drops the subject.
“Now” he says, opening another graph that Satoru doesn’t understand. “This is a chart of your hormone levels. As you can see, this is all still reversible, but with how far along you are it might take some time before you return to normal. You will of course have to sever contact with the alpha or alphas you are currently seeing. Continued exposure to their pheromones, be it airborne or through their semen, will finalise the change”
Satoru’s stomach clenches painfully. Sever contact? He hasn’t gone more than a week without seeing Suguru for the past eight years. They can’t possibly be asking him to cut all contact, can they?
“I see” Satoru says and the doctor turns his screen back around.
“You will get the results from your bloodwork online” he says, pushing his glasses up again. “I suggest we book another appointment to discuss them, and any other changes you may be experiencing”
“That’s fine” Satoru says hastily, earning himself a raised eyebrow. “I’ll just… read them online”
“It’s up to you” the doctor says, his voice still neutral. Satoru has to applaud his professionalism; it can’t be every day that an alpha comes in and declares himself consensually bitched, but nothing in his body language or expression betrays his surprise. “Do you have any other questions?”
“Not for now” Satoru says, and the doctor nods.
They bid each other goodbye and Satoru takes the bus home, deep in thought the entire ride home.
He could go back to normal. If he just stops seeing Suguru, he can reverse the effects and become an alpha again. He’d have to go back to his parents house for a while, since he still hasn’t gotten himself a job, and that sucks but it’s absolutely doable.
Satoru frowns as he looks out the window, watching the landscape fly past him.
While absolutely doable logistically speaking, emotionally it feels impossible to stay away from Suguru. His whole body aches for him, aches for his alpha, and not just in the sore bite mark on his neck.
Is it really worth it?
The answer should be a swift, roaring YES, but Satoru doesn’t feel so sure.
He thinks about being on all fours in front of Suguru, thinks about the way his head swam and his mind went blank when Suguru told him to submit. His cheeks heat up and he shifts in his seat, trying to avoid getting hard as he recalls how sweet it had tasted, to allow himself to be dominated, to let Suguru take control of him.
Never before has Satoru felt such complete and utter satisfaction burn through every cell of his body. He swallows dryly, stepping off the bus before walking to Suguru’s apartment with determined steps.
Suguru is all over him the second he steps inside, nervously fluttering around him while wringing his hands.
“How did it go?” he asks anxiously. “What did they say?”
Satoru can’t help but laugh at his worried frown.
“Relax” he says as he takes off his shoes. “They said I am indeed being bitched, though it’s not finalised yet. I’m like halfway there”
Suguru’s eyes widen in shock.
“They called you a bitch?” he asks and Satoru rolls his eyes before walking into the kitchen, Suguru following close behind like an overbearing mother duck.
“They obviously didn’t use that word” he says, opening the cupboards to get a glass. “They said I’m in ‘the process of turning into an omega’ or something like that”
Satoru fills a glass with water, drinking casually while Suguru stands with a drooping head. He looks a little like a dog that’s misbehaved and Satoru swallows a chuckle.
“The claiming bite didn’t take, and I can’t get pregnant yet, so don’t worry about that” he says, hopping up to sit on the counter. He swings his legs back and forth, thinking about the first meal they cooked together when Satoru moved in here. Well, technically Suguru was the one who cooked and Satoru was just there for moral support.
“Is it… is it reversible?” Suguru asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes flicker around the room and Satoru can only imagine what he feels like right now, his love for Satoru battling with his inner alpha that’s most certainly proud of having successfully bitched another alpha. Satoru smiles softly, because in that moment, his chest overflows with love, and it’s not a hard decision to make at all.
“No” he lies easily, watching Suguru jerk in shock, attempting to control the smug pheromones that instantly leak from him.
“Really?” Suguru whispers, twitching like he wants to come closer and claim Satoru once and for all.
Satoru nods and beckons him over, spreading his legs so Suguru can slide into the space between them. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Suguru’s ear, gently caressing his ear lobe.
“What’s done is done” he says before fluttering his eyelashes in what he hopes is a seductive way. “Will you… will you take responsibility and claim me once I’m fully bitched?”
Suguru nods, unable to form coherent words. Satoru just knows that he’s fighting the urge to grab Satoru and scent him all over while complacently growling. If Suguru had a tail it would no doubt be whipping against the floorboards right now.
“Good” Satoru says with a smile, feeling a lot less guilty than he should about lying to Suguru. “You’ll have to take good care of me if you’re going to be my alpha, okay? You can’t look at other omegas, and you’ll keep me full and happy through my heat”
Suguru nods again, so fast that Satoru worries about the state of his neck. His earlobes are glowing bright red and his hands come up to rest on Satoru’s hips, squeezing the soft flesh as if he’s attempting to ground himself.
Satoru laughs and throws himself around Suguru’s neck, hugging him close.
“I can’t wait for my heat” he admits, giggling quietly. “I hope the next one is a real one. You’ll knot me, right? Keep me on your dick the whole time, not letting me be empty a single second? I’ll be your new cocksleeve, you can throw away your old toys…”
Suguru growls, sending a pleasant shiver down Satoru’s spine. He’s itching to lean back and bare his throat, submit fully to Suguru, but he fights the feeling, enjoying the way it slowly builds up. He wants to resist until the urge grows so big that he snaps, blissfully sinking into that submissive headspace.
“You can’t say that” Suguru mutters, mouthing Satoru’s neck. Satoru moans breathily as Suguru’s fingers play over his nape, pressing against the sore spot where Suguru bit him. He wonders how it would feel to have a real mating bite there.
“Why not?” Satoru says, clinging to Suguru as he subtly rolls his hips against him. “I’m your omega now, you need to keep me happy. Fuck me full of cum, knot me until I break, make sure everyone knows that you’re my alpha”
Something rumbles deep in Suguru’s chest and he lightly bites Satoru’s earlobe.
“Say it” he whispers against Satoru’s skin. “Say what you are”
“Your omega” Satoru promises, whining when he’s rewarded with a lick across the shell of his ear. “Your omega, you made me this way Suguru, you fucked the alpha out of me, knotted me until my body fit you”
Satoru is babbling, exacting his revenge for Suguru’s earlier dirtytalk now that he’s clearheaded. Yesterday he couldn’t do much but repeat ‘please’ over and over again, but today he’s putting his mouth to good use.
“And when your rut comes” Satoru continues, “I’ll let you use me as much as you like”
He giggles when Suguru’s hands flex on his hips, loving the way Suguru is so clearly trying to hold back.
“You can take me over and over until I pass out, and you have my permission to keep going until I wake up again. How does that sound? Would you like using me as your personal hole, not letting me leave until you’re satisfied? You’re so strong, there’s no way I could resist…”
“That’s it” Suguru growls, picking Satoru up like it’s nothing, even if Satoru is the taller one of the two. Satoru yelps as he’s tossed over Suguru’s shoulder and carried off towards the bedroom.
“So forceful” he teases as Suguru kicks the door open before tossing him on the bed. Satoru sits up, grinning mischievously as he palms himself through his jeans. “Are you really going to ravish this poor, defenseless omega?”
Suguru rolls his eyes, clearly fed up with Satoru’s bullshit.
“Whatever will I do” Satoru laments, rocking his hips against his own hand. He can already feel a wet spot at the back of his underwear. “All alone, and with no one to help me… are you going to hold me down and take me until I’m begging you to stop?”
“We really need to discuss this kink of yours” Suguru says as he strips out of his shirt. Satoru licks his lips, his eyes trailing over Suguru’s pecs. God he wants to suffocate between them.
Suguru joins him on the bed, kissing a trail up the expanse of Satoru’s throat.
“What, you don’t like it?” Satoru hums, closing his eyes as Suguru sucks on the sensitive skin.
“Never said that” Suguru mumbles. “If you want me to fuck you until you pass out, then who am I to deny my omega?”
Satoru laughs only to be shut up as Suguru kisses him, slotting their mouth together before sucking on his bottom lip.
Yeah, Satoru thinks dizzily as Suguru licks into his mouth, weaving their fingers together to hold his hand.
Definitely the right decision.
“You did what?”
Satoru clears his throat, trying his best to look innocent as Shoko stares at him. Next to him, Suguru patiently wipes his cheek clean from the beer she just spat out.
It’s just the three of them today, which is nice, because Satoru wants Shoko to be the first one to know. They’ve been a bit of a trio since meeting each other at the start of university, and she’s the one he’s closest to in their weird little mismatched friend group. She’s a headstrong woman, rarely rendered speechless, but right now she’s gaping at him like Satoru just confessed to murdering an entire village.
“Hey come on, it’s not that big of a deal” Satoru says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Shoko turns to Suguru who gulps nervously, because for some reason, there seems to be an ominous dark cloud swirling above her head.
“Suguru” she says, her voice low as she draws every syllable out. “Did you seriously bitch Satoru?”
Suguru twists uncomfortably under her angry glare.
“Sort of?” he says and Satoru quickly interjects.
“Not really” he says, and Shoko snaps her eyes back to him. “I kind of… bitched myself?”
“You bitched yourself” she repeats, her voice monotone like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.
Satoru laughs awkwardly.
“Yeah, it was a whole thing” he says vaguely. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know the details”
Her face scrunches up at the implications and she shudders in disgust before mimicking retching into her beer.
“I need a cigarette” she mutters darkly before sighing, her face softening. “So what, you guys are a thing now?”
“Yep!” Satoru says, beaming in a way that makes Shoko roll her eyes, though it is with fondness. “Aren’t you gonna congratulate us?”
“Congratulations” Shoko drawls sarcastically, “for figuring out something I’ve known since the minute I met you”
Suguru raises an elegant eyebrow and Satoru gasps theatrically, slamming a palm on the table.
“You knew?” he asks, loud enough for more than a few people to throw irritated glances at them. Shoko scoffs.
“Of course I did” she says snarkily. “Everyone and their mother could see the way you guys were making heart eyes at each other. It was driving me insane”
Satoru flushes a little, embarrassed but happy. He had no idea that they were apparently that obvious. He glances at Suguru who looks stoic at first glance, but beneath his neutral exterior, Satoru can see the tips of his ears turning red.
“Can’t say I saw the bitching coming though” Shoko admits before raising her glass. “Still, congratulations. Cheers to your… new relationship, or something”
Satoru and Suguru raise their glasses and echo ‘cheers’. Shoko takes a big gulp of beer before lowering her glass, her eyes narrowing as she eyes the two of them suspiciously.
“I’m warning you guys though” she says, a threatening tone sneaking into her voice. “If you do anything gross around me, I’m castrating both of you”
Satoru blinks at her.
“What, us?” he says, turning to Suguru who’s sitting next to him. “We would never, right Suguru?”
Suguru sends him a smile that’s far too sugary sweet, earning him another fake barf from Shoko.
“Never” he promises solemnly.
Under the table, his hand inches further up the inside of Satoru’s thigh.
“I hate you” Shoko says glumly. “I wish you’d go back to being oblivious idiots”
Satoru throws his head back and laughs.
Maybe getting cut off by his parents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.