Work Text:
All things considered, it was initially looking to be a fairly nice afternoon; yesterday Suguru finally finished wrapping up a report he’s been working on for weeks, the Friday morning meeting had been concluded early, and the toast machine, appropriately named ‘Bread Sheeran’ by the cheerful receptionist, had finally been fixed. And that’s without even mentioning the weather, which was shamelessly boasting clear blue skies and a sun far too bright and warm for May.
Suguru rolls his neck, trying to straighten out the kinks in it. He typically sits with his back straight as he works, never slouching like a teenager in his chair unlike a certain someone the office, but towards the end of a work day he still feels a little stiff from sitting down for so long. His eyes are starting to sting too from staring at a bright screen all day, but he forces his fingers to keep tapping across the keyboard, filling out email after email from dissatisfied customers. It’s not particularly fun work, which is why no one ever bothers to clean up the inbox, letting the emails pile up until they are in the thousands; simply put, it had been the perfect challenge.
Despite his sore body and stinging eyes, it really was an unfairly lovely afternoon, and it would have continued to be so if not for the hand that suddenly and rudely slams down on top of Suguru’s desk, very loudly, causing the entire desk to rattle. A cup of pencils falls over and Suguru watches one of them roll across the table until it falls over the edge, landing soundlessly on the carpented floor.
Suguru raises an eyebrow and even though he already knows who the hand unfortunately belongs to, he fakes a look of surprise as his raises his gaze to meet a pair of eyes that put the sky to shame.
“245 emails” Satoru says triumphantly, grinning so widely that it nearly splits his face in half. Suguru throws a glance at the wall-mounted clock, trying to maintain an air of poised dignity to hide the hot surge of annoyance in his chest. The pointers show that it is indeed five o'clock, the hour when their challenge is supposed to end.
“Would you look at that” he says, burying his wounded pride and stabilising his voice to sound like he couldn’t care less in the world. “I have only answered 243 emails”
Looking back at Satoru, he smiles coolly before slowly swirling his chair around until he’s facing him, politely extending a sportsmanly hand out for him to shake.
“Well done Gojo”
Satoru’s expression darkens instantly since a compliment Suguru is in fact a thinly veiled taunt, at least when directed at him. He ignores the handshake and leans back up again, crossing his arms as he huffs like an overgrown high schooler.
“It’s 38-41 now” he says petulantly. “I’m gaining on you”
“Oh my” Suguru drawls. “I’m shaking in my boots”
No matter how many times Suguru does this, feigning a put together front to hide how sore of a loser he is, Satoru always buys into it. Inside his mouth, Suguru’s tongue is curling from the bitter taste of defeat, but he keeps his features schooled into a neat mask of indifference, one that Satoru has so far never seen the cracks in. It’s an overplayed show at this point, since Suguru knows exactly what's going to happen. Any moment now…
There it is.
The gritted teeth, the armani shoe digging into the carpet in an effort to cool his raging anger, the wisp of territorial alpha pheromones seeping out even through the expensive inhibitor patch on the back of his neck. The air fills with a faint scent of honeysuckle and ocean salt and Suguru just barely manages to suppress his grin; as much as he hates losing, the look on Satoru’s face as Suguru pretends not to care almost makes it worth it.
Suguru would, broadly speaking, consider himself quite a mature person. He doesn’t kick up a fuss if someone cuts the line, and he doesn’t demand to speak to the manager if he’s served the wrong food at a restaurant. The few hobbies he manages to squeeze into his schedule are all quite adult, ranging from wine tasting to reading. Calm, collected, and with what some smitten omegas have referred to as a ‘proud yet sensitive aura’ (whatever that means), his feathers are generally not ruffled easily.
There is however, one exception, and it’s an exception with long, slim legs and soft white hair. An alpha who always manages to sneak his way under his skin, until his blood roars with a primal and extremely unprofessional urge to conquer and subdue, an urge completely unbefitting for the star of the team.
When standing up, Satoru practically towers over Suguru, and Suguru tries his best not to bristle at Satoru’s attempts to subtly dominate him; he’ll die before giving Satoru the satisfaction of knowing that he has an effect on him.
“Alright then” Satoru sneers, jabbing a finger into Suguru’s chest as if he’s Adam Burr about to challenge him to a deadly duel. “I bet you can’t drink more beers than me at the after work tonight”
The scene is a perfect example of what HR’s harassment and conduct policies label as ‘improper workplace conduct’, especially since it comes from the man who is supposed to be the second star of the team, but no one even bats an eye anymore, too used to the familiar sight. Suguru resists the urge to laugh out loud and takes his time as he pretends to consider it, letting the seconds drag on to put up an air of disinterest, before shrugging half-heartedly.
“Sure” he says, turning back to his computer screen, inhaling Satoru’s territorial pheromones as his stomach prickles with heat at the thought of another challenge, one he’ll surely win. “Why not. Now if you don't mind, some of us have work to do”
He can practically hear Satoru grind his teeth, and it’s the sweetest melody he’s ever heard. The heat coils tighter in his stomach.
“Don’t back out” Satoru continues, uncaring of the way their coworkers roll their eyes. He then pauses before humming, and Satoru can hear the smirk in his voice as he opens his mouth again. “Unless you’re scared of course”
And there it is, the familiar tingle of being challenged, the urge to grab Satoru by the neck and push his face down into the desk in front of the whole office, holding him in place until he squirms and is forced to submit. It’s always like this; Suguru likes humiliating Satoru when he wins, likes seeing him lose even more, but what he loves the most is the thrill of being challenged. It makes his inner alpha roar, his control nearly slipping in a way it never has before he met Satoru.
Suguru swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.
“You wish” he says, more heat than he’d like to admit slipping into the clipped words. He doesn’t look up from his screen again, staunchly studying the mail inbox in front of him as if the small black letters can magically calm the competitiveness blazing like a firestorm in his guts. If he could focus on anything but the alpha beside him, the second star of Jujutsu Tech’s safety team, he would have heard his coworkers snickering on the other side of the room, whispering about their petty rivalry. He may even have noticed Shoko sighing at them from inside the glass-walled smoking room. But Suguru doesn’t hear, and he doesn’t see, too aware of the faint hint of pheromones in the air and the alpha in his proximity that’s just begging to be subdued once and for all.
”We’ll see about that tonight” Satoru says smugly before walking off, not-so-accidentally letting his hip bump into Suguru’s chair.
All the blood in Suguru’s body roars in his ears, his insides twisting with the need to bite Satoru’s neck until his body goes lax, but Suguru remains where he is until Satoru’s footsteps have faded far, far away. Not even then does he move, patiently pretending to study the screen in front of him until the hands on the clock have crawled on for seven more minutes. Only then does he stand up, walking towards the bathroom stalls at the slowest pace he can muster.
The distance between the bathroom and Suguru’s desk is only about fifteen metres but it feels like miles, the walk stretching from a couple of seconds to hours long as he analyses his every step. Is he walking too fast? Is he walking to eagerly? Will the receptionist notice the way he clenches his fists to keep them from trembling?
It’s only when he has shut and locked the bathroom door behind him that he can relax, leaning against the door as he rips his slacks open, pushing his boxers down to let out his cock. Unsurprisingly, for in these past few months this has happened more times than Suguru would like to admit, he’s already rock hard. It should be humiliating, popping a boner over a coworker, an incredibly infuriating one at that, but Suguru swallowed the last of his shame a long time ago.
Exhaling shakily in an attempt to stifle his moans, Suguru grabs his dick, stroking it slowly but firmly. He can still taste Satoru’s lingering pheromones on his tongue, can still see the way his piercingly blue eyes vibrated with rage as Suguru toyed with him, evaded his pathetic attempts at displaying dominance. Satoru towers tall and barks loud and proud, but he crumbles the moment Suguru dismisses him, the surface of his facade cracking to reveal a desperate need to measure their strengths. And Suguru, usually so level-headed, can never back down and resist, no matter how childish the challenge.
How could he, when Satoru is just begging for Suguru’s teeth to clamp down on his scent gland, forcing him to submit?
Suguru speeds up his movements, gritting his teeth to stay quiet. Always snapping at each other’s necks, always making stupid bets to compare, to compete, to conquer. One of these days Suguru is going to snap and finally pay Satoru back for all his petty attempts; after all, what will 245 emails mean when he’s lying like a ragdoll under Suguru, whimpering as he’s assaulted by Suguru’s pheromones?
Suguru bites his tongue, thumbing his slit before tightening his grip, jerking his cock with erratic movements. He’s growing close already because just like how no one angers him like Satoru does, there’s also no one who makes him cum so fast. At the base of his dick, there’s a slight swelling; it’s not a fully formed knot, not from a quick wank in a bathroom stall, but it’s pathetically big considering the circumstances. Suguru squeezes it with his free hand, his mouth falling open as he feels his orgasm approaching.
He manages to cup his hand just in time, catching the ropes of cum spilling from his dick. It quickly fills his palm, dripping onto the floor as Suguru bites his lower lip, refusing to make a sound as his climax rips through him, tingling from his crotch all the way out to his fingertips.
After taking a couple of seconds to breathe and send a silent apology to all coworkers except one, Suguru washes off his hand before tucking himself back in and buckling his belt. As shameful as it is to admit, it’s not his first rodeo, and he rummages through the cabinet for necessities with experienced movements, evading tampons and extra toilet rolls until he finds the scent diffusing spray. Suguru wipes the floor with a paper towel he flushes down the toilet before spraying all surfaces, adding a couple of sprays into the air for good measure. A quick glance at the time tells him that he’s already been away from his desk for seven minutes, and Suguru curses under his breath, putting the spray back in its place before smoothing out his slacks to cover up his crimes.
When he examines himself in the mirror, he can’t find anything out of place; half of his hair is pulled up in a neat bun, the rest of it flowing, glossy and well brushed, down his back. His reading glasses, steel-rimmed and of the classic sort of design that makes him look a little older, sit askew on his nose and he hastily corrects them. There’s no lingering blush on his face, no suspicious beads of sweat pearling on his upper lip, no post-orgasmic haze clouding his eyes. All in all, a respectfully put together star employee who’d never jerk off in the office bathroom.
Suguru unlocks the door and opens it, stepping outside only to freeze when he almost walks right into a solid chest. Without needing to look up, Suguru instantly knows who the chest belongs to; they’re no more than inches apart, and there’s no mistaking that familiar scent of honeysuckle and ocean winds.
For a brief moment, a twinge of guilty conscience stings in Suguru’s chest. When faced with the object of his confused, aggressive anger and desire, he can’t help but feel a little dirty, ashamed of his depraved actions. As aggravating as Satoru is, as much as he grates on Suguru’s nerves every opportunity he gets, he deserves more respect than to serve as Suguru’s jerkoff fantasy.
No sooner than Suguru has entertained this thought, Satoru opens his mouth and promptly ruins everything.
“What were you doing in there for so long?” he asks with a teasing lilt to his voice. “You weren’t crying over losing the challenge, were you?”
Suguru smiles stiffly as the last remnants of guilt are washed away.
“Of course not” he says. “Though you’ll probably be crying tonight”
Something odd flitters across Satoru’s face but it’s gone in a flash and he clears his throat, straightening his back to appear taller than he is.
“I’m leaving work at six” he announces haughtily. “That is, we should grab a cab together” he explains when Suguru raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
At this, both of Suguru’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, his mouth nearly dropping open in astonishment. The two of them, sharing a cab? They haven’t spent that much time alone even once in the five months that have passed since Satoru was transferred from the safety team.
“Why on earth should we do that?” Suguru asks incredulously, and Satoru scoffs before looking away, his clear forehead marred by a frown.
“If you arrive later it will be cheating” he mutters. “What if you come an hour late and I’m already dru-, I mean, three beers in? That’s hardly fair”
For once, Satoru actually does have a point. It would be kind of unfair if Satoru started drinking before Suguru arrived, and the only logical solution is for them to take the same taxi. Of course, that doesn’t make the idea any more appealing.
Suguru rubs his temples in an attempt to stave off the oncoming headache.
“Fine” he mumbles, walking past Satoru with his head held high. Their shoulders briefly brush, a butterfly touch that sets off something nervous in Suguru’s stomach. “Be sure to leave at six then”
And because Satoru can never resist having the last word, he just has to yell at Suguru’s retreating figure.
“Same goes for you, asshole! Don’t be late!”
It’s not the first time Satoru uses such unprofessional language at their workplace, and it most certainly won't be the last.
While Satoru started working at Jujutsu Tech over a year ago, it has only been five months since he transferred to the safety team. The reasons were obvious; while Satoru knew more than anyone about the safety guidelines, he didn’t have the patience or grace to treat the incoming customers with respect, leading to record-breakingly low feedback scores. The logical solution was to transfer him to the safety team full time.
During Satoru’s first day, Suguru had viewed him with mild interest; while Satoru was chatty, talking his ear off every time they shared an elevator ride, Suguru liked to keep a calm and professional distance to his coworkers, answering with polite but clipped hums most of the time. If Satoru offered to buy him a coffee since he was going to the coffee shop anyway, Suguru had already had one. If Satoru sat down next to him in the break room, Suguru’s lunch was already over. If Satoru hurried to get onto the same elevator, Suguru would give him a cool smile and a curt nod before staring off into space.
He wasn’t trying to be rude, Satoru was just a lot to take in at once and Suguru needed more time. But looking back at it, Suguru must have done something to upset Satoru, because when the next monthly performance review was published, Suguru had been pushed down to second place for the first time in a year, and Satoru was shamelessly gloating over his misery. One could argue that Suguru was the childish one for clenching his fists and grinding his teeth over something as ridiculous as getting second place, but that bonus and prestige had belonged to him for a year, so getting knocked down a peg really stung.
Suguru had spent the entire afternoon glaring daggers at Satoru every chance he got and Satoru, like the infuriating bastard he is, had positively bloomed under the attention.
When the clock struck eight, and everyone but the two of them had gone home for the day, Satoru had had the audacity to saunter over to Suguru’s desk, sashaying his hips like some coy omega, his voice taunting when he uttered those damning words for the first time:
"Wanna bet I’ll place first next month too?"
And Suguru, calm and composed Suguru who had tried his best to keep a respectable distance to this arrogant, overly eager mutt, had taken the bait without a second thought.
"I’d like to see you try"
Suguru would go on to win the performance review, as well as the challenge regarding most coffees drunk in a day, most paper clips balanced on your nose and most canned responses implemented in a day. Satoru, in turn, had taken home the challenge of stuffing the most chips into his mouth (gross), fastest time to eat his lunch (even grosser), and most security cases solved in a day (pretty impressive, though Suguru would die before admitting that). Before either of them realised what was going on, their silly little challenges had become almost an everyday-occurrence at Jujutsu Tech.
While most of their coworkers has begrudgingly accepted their reality with varying levels of contempt (Yaga mostly seems tired, while Nanami and Utahime are both ready to strange Satoru any moment now), it still makes for an odd sight. Satoru was immature enough that his behaviour didn’t come as a shock, but no one had anticipated that Suguru would go along with his insanity.
Suguru still doesn’t quite understand how things ended up this way. He has overheard Satoru chatting to their other coworkers, and he’s a nice guy, albeit a bit arrogant, and his sense of humour hasn’t gone unnoticed by Suguru. They would probably get along like a house on fire if not for the way he has constantly sought to provoke him with stupid challenges for months on end. Not that Suguru is blameless; every morning he promises himself that today is the last day of this madness, the last day he caves and lets Satoru have his way, the last day he has to flee to the bathroom to jerk off like a pathetic creep, too high on competitiveness to stop and think properly.
And yet, every day, he simply can’t stop himself when Satoru looks like at him like that, like Suguru is someone he can dominate, control, and every day Suguru throws all reason out the window to bare his fangs, inhaling the delicious scent of Satoru’s territorial pheromones.
Suguru sighs as he sits down at his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. Just what is he doing with his life? He’s twenty-five for God’s sake, he’s supposed to be more mature than this. He rubs his stinging eyes, lamenting the slight headache that he always gets from staring at a computer screen for eight hours, when he spots a blue package laid neatly at the edge of his desk.
Frowning to himself, Suguru picks it up to read the label. It’s a box of pain killers, the regular over the counter type that he usually brings to work. His head throbs as he gratefully pops one into his mouth, swallowing it dry like he always does. Satoru once called him doctor House for his pill-popping habits, a comment that Suguru gracefully ignored (mostly because he didn’t come up with a good comeback until hours later).
Suguru then turns his attention back to the computer, trying his best to focus on the latest case in his inbox, but his attention keeps straying. He was so sure that he forgot his painkillers at home today, but he must have brought them since they miraculously turned up on his desk. Who in the office could possibly know about his headaches, or the exact brand of pain killers that he usually takes? Well, except for Satoru of course, and he’s automatically crossed off the list since he hates Suguru’s guts.
He must have brought them and forgot about them. That’s the only explanation.
At a leisurely pace, now that the challenge has ended, Suguru keeps working, calmly reviewing a case of a suspected ATO. It’s not like him to be forgetful like this; perhaps he has spent too many ruts alone. There was a study published recently that claimed that spending too many heats or ruts alone could negatively impair memory and other cognitive abilities… then again, articles like that are like articles about the negative side effects of caffeine; they’re dime a dozen, always contradictory, and full of exceptions. Perhaps he shouldn’t take it too much to heart.
Resisting a yawn, Suguru moves onto the next case. It’s a blatant instance of someone trying to sell a counterfeit product, already verified by the team of experts on luxury products, so Suguru takes down the post before moving on. His mind, however, is elsewhere, filled with sparkling blue eyes and an absolutely infuriating smirk.
What the hell are they supposed to talk about in the taxi? They used to have a semi-civil relationship when they first started working together, before Satoru inexplicably began antagonising him, so what did they converse about back then?
Suguru tries to remember, but can’t recall anything of value beyond surface-level pleasantries in the break room. In hindsight, his ardent efforts to remain professional in the face of an unstoppable force might have come off as a bit rude, but what else was he supposed to do? Satoru was so eager to befriend him, far too eager far too early, and Suguru instinctively took a step back and hid behind a polite mask. It’s not like he had anything against Satoru, he just needed more time before he could consider them as friends, especially since Satoru seemed too beautiful and funny to be true. Then again, Satoru quite quickly decided to wage all out war on him, so perhaps he dodged a bullet by maintaining his distance.
As always when dreading something unpleasant, the hour seems to pass by twice as fast as usual, and before Suguru knows it, it’s six p.m, the time announced in the form of Satoru walking up to his desk with his jacket already draped across his shoulders.
“You coming?” he asks, grouchy and rude as always, and Suguru swallows the insults tickling his tongue before closing his laptop and rising to his feet.
“Let me get my jacket” he says as calmly as he can. This is who he is: cool, professional, and not someone who jerks off on company time.
Striding past Satoru with his head held high, refusing to acknowledge the fragrance of honeysuckle hovering in the air, Suguru doesn’t notice the strange glint in Satoru’s eyes as he gazes after his figure.
Suguru pulls on his leather jacket before letting his hair down, shaking it to loosen the tresses.
“Have you called a cab?” he asks over his shoulder as he changes from his nice Italian loafers to a pair of chunky black boots.
“Yeah, it’s waiting outside”
Suguru resists the urge to make a face at Satoru’s stiff response, already hearing the oppressive silence that’s going to lower itself over them; this cab ride is no doubt going to feel eternal.
After bidding goodbye to the receptionist, the two of them head downstairs in an elevator ride that’s going to be noted in the history books for its uniquely paralysing awkwardness. Suguru is racking his brain for something to talk about, something work-related that might not immediately spark a raging argument, but as he fastens his seatbelt in the taxi, he still hasn’t come up with anything.
“To the Hidden Inventory bar” Satoru says before the taxi driver has even had the chance to open his mouth. Suguru eyes him before scoffing to himself, and Satoru, like a dog trained to bite the second he senses any form of criticism from Suguru’s side, turns his head to look at him so fast that a bone clicks in the small space inside the cab. “What?”
“Nothing” Suguru says before looking out the window. “It’s just… your rudeness truly amazes me sometimes”
Contrary to Suguru’s expectations, Satoru barks out a laugh at that one. Startled, Suguru can’t resist turning back to get a good look at the other alpha, forgetting his resolution to not cast a glance at him.
Satoru is smiling, a sharp, teasing smile but a smile nonetheless. It’s not an unusual expression on his face, but it’s unusual in that it’s directed at Suguru who typically only sees him clad in scorn and mockery. When Satoru smiles, his eyes sparkle like ocean waves catching the sun, and his scent catches an almost warm undertone, like freshly baked bread. It makes something prickle uncomfortably at the pits of Suguru’s guts.
“Come on, I'm not that bad, am I?” Satoru says, and while his tone is teasing, it’s less hostile than usual.
“Who are you kidding?” Suguru snorts, secretly grateful for a topic of conversation as the taxi rolls out of the driveway. “You use casual language no matter who you talk to, and don’t think I didn’t notice you napping at the last friday meeting”
“Not my fault the meeting was so boring” Satoru says with a shrug, and Suguru doesn’t respond because that meeting had indeed been unusually slow. “And besides, people like my friendly, carefree attitude. You know Nanami from finance? We’re like this”
Satoru holds up two fingers intertwined to indicate closeness, and for a moment, Suguru is struck by a flurry of conflicting emotions. For better or for worse, the two of them could be considered close, albeit in a strange and twisted way. When at each other’s throats, Suguru can comfortably rationalise their closeness as part of a bitter rivalry, making it easy to accept the fact that he, deep down, feels a strange sense of possessiveness towards Satoru. Completely unlike the possessiveness an alpha feels for their omega, but no less intense, it’s like a dragon hoarding its treasure; while the treasure in itself holds little value, it somehow feels very important that no one else gets it. No one else in the office knows what Satoru smells like when his pheromones grow domineering and territorial, and no one else ought to fantasise about how he’d cry when forced into submission.
It takes a moment or two before Satoru’s words catch up to Suguru and he relaxes a little, rolling his eyes.
“Nanami would kill you in a heartbeat if he could get away with it” he says flippantly, mentally berating himself as he brushes away the strange thoughts that just surfaced in his mind. While he definitely harbours an unhealthy desire to subdue Satoru, that’s only due to the endless provocations from the other alpha. That’s right, he just wants to show, once and for all, that Satoru’s displays of dominance are futile. It couldn’t matter less to Suguru who Satoru is close with at the office, or what they think of his pheromones, or if they’ve ever imagined what he looks like on all fours, with…
Suguru forcibly shuts down that train of thought before it can derail further.
“No he wouldn’t” Satoru protests. “I happen to be quite popular at the office”
Suguru clamps his hand over his mouth but not fast enough to stop a muffled cackle. The look Satoru throws at him is nothing short of outraged, bafflement evident in his wide eyes.
“Hey!” he squawks indignantly, “What are you laughing for?”
Suguru delicately clears his throat and tucks his bangs behind his ear.
“Nothing” he lies, smiling merrily to himself.
“Yeah you are” Satoru insists, like a child. “Tell me!”
If Suguru took a step back, he’d realise that this is the longest conversation they’ve ever had without hurling genuine insults at each other, but he’s too busy tapping his chin, pretending to contemplate Satoru’s demand, to notice.
“And if I tell you” he says slowly, theatrically, “what do I get in return?”
Satoru furrows his brow like he’s genuinely considering Suguru’s offer, before lighting up.
“I’ll do your dishes at the office for a month” he says, very seriously.
“Nice try” Suguru retorts dryly. “We have two dishwashers”
Satoru smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head, ruffling his already wild white hair.
“Fuck, okay, you got me” he admits with a lopsided grin that makes something swoop in Suguru’s stomach. Since Satoru always seems to be pissed off when talking to Suguru, he has never noticed what a radiant smile Satoru has. “Then how about this: I’ll take your weekend shifts for two months”
This offer actually has Suguru seriously pausing to seriously consider it: he only has four weekend shifts in the coming two months, but one of them clashes with a concert he booked ages ago.
“Deal” Suguru says with a nod, and Satoru extends a hand for him to shake. Satoru’s skin is warm, almost heated, his fingers slender and strong in Suguru’s grip.
“Okay, now tell me” Satoru says eagerly. “Why do you think I’m not popular at the office?”
Suguru eyes Satoru for a second before beckoning him closer by crooking his fingers, as if he’s about to share some grand, secret conspiracy. Satoru leans in until his ear is right by Suguru’s mouth, the faint scent of flowers and ocean waves fluttering in the air they share. As much as Suguru hates Satoru for being so immature and hostile, it’s impossible to deny that his pheromones are intoxicating.
Suguru parts his lips, purposefully letting his breath fan across Satoru’s ear to build tension. He almost imagines a shudder running through Satoru’s body.
“Because” Suguru drawls quietly, elongating every syllable, “you’re an arrogant asshole”
Suguru leans back, choking back laughter at Satoru’s shellshocked expression. Satoru is rarely rendered speechless, so the way his hand instinctively flies up to fiddle with a reddened earlobe is quite satisfying, though Suguru doesn’t quite understand what he did to cause Satoru such embarrassment. In the cramped space of the car, Satoru’s pheromones temporarily flare, his eyelashes trembling as he stares at Suguru before clearing his throat, looking away.
“I’m not an asshole” Satoru protests, unusually meekly. His typically loud voice is lower, and a violent sense of satisfaction burns through Suguru’s stomach. It almost feels like he has subdued Satoru, bullied him into obedience. While Suguru takes great pride in not being one of those overbearing alphas constantly seeking to dominate every omega they lay their eyes on, something about Satoru’s constant defiance against him has made him crave the other alpha’s obedience like a drug.
Of course, he’d never actually cross that line since he values professionalism in the workplace, but that doesn’t stop him from dreaming. What would he give to hear Satoru whimper through tears, pleading for forgiveness for trying to challenge him, pitifully accepting that Suguru is the stronger alpha?
After countless provocations, Suguru can hardly be too harshly judged for such thoughts.
“You played Clash Royale when Yaga presented the quarterly report” Suguru points out. “You refuse to present at the Friday meetings, even if you’re one of the top performers. You always eat all the chocolate cookies before anyone else has had the chance to take one, and don’t even get me started on the way you play music without headphones”
Satoru regards him with wide eyes, looking almost moved by the verbal onslaught. For a second, Suguru worries that he came off too harshly, but then Satoru opens his mouth.
“You think I’m one of the top performers?” he asks, and because Satoru causes Suguru to lose all brain cells he can’t quite stop himself from reaching over to flick his forehead.
“You would be” he mutters, “if you weren’t so goddamn insufferable”
It’s a half-lie; while Suguru is too competitive to admit it out loud, Satoru is truly one of his most competent coworkers in some ways. When focused, he works at breakneck speed, never cutting corners and sometimes even forgetting to eat. The problem is that Satoru is more than aware of the weight he pulls, never missing a chance to boast about how he’s ‘the strongest’ on the team while slinging his long legs up on the meeting table, ignoring the way it makes Yaga’s eyes twitch.
“Whatever” Satoru says flippantly. “I’ll take it”
It takes a moment for Suguru to realise that Satoru is referring to his half-praise, and for some reason, his stomach churns with discomfort. A compliment laden with insults is still a compliment when genuine, and it’s been a long time since he gave Satoru words of praise that weren’t dripping with sarcasm.
Luckily, the taxi comes to a stop before Suguru has to come up with a response.
“We’re here” the driver announces and Satoru taps his card against the reader without even looking at the price.
“Thank you” he says to the driver before unbuckling his belt. “Let’s go”
“Let’s go” Suguru echoes, wondering if perhaps this after work won’t be as unpleasant as they usually are, with Satoru gnashing his teeth across the table, interrupting every time Suguru tries to have a nice conversation with someone.
Quite a few eyebrows are raised when the notorious rivals enter the bar together, but Suguru pays them no mind, simply humming when Satoru offers to buy the first round before sitting down next at Shoko, Nanami and Haibara’s table. The three of them have already started drinking, Nanami’s glass barely touched while Shoko’s is almost empty.
“Finally joining us?” she asks with a smirk as Suguru settles down next to her.
“Not everyone can clock out early every day” Suguru counters, causing her to scoff into her glass.
“Well, you’d be able to clock out early too if you didn’t waste so much time doing stupid bets with a certain someone” she fires off, causing embarrassment to twinge deep in Suguru’s gut. He hastily changes the topic of conversation.
“So what do you guys think of the new customer guidelines?” he asks clumsily, hoping to divert their attention from his relationship with Satoru. Shoko rolls her eyes.
“Smooth” she snickers, but she has mercy on him and allows the conversation to steer in a new direction. “Not sure yet. It makes things easier for us, but the CS team is going to have a hellish couple of weeks before the users get used to it”
“Don’t even talk about it” Haibara says gloomily. “I can already hear the phone calls…”
Nanami just shrugs.
“Doesn’t affect finance that much” he says. “But personally, I think it’s a good change. It will scare off some of scammers”
“Speaking of scammers, hasn't their been an increase in ATOs and phishing lately?”
“Maybe, but it's not really something I've noticed. Have you brought it up with the safety team?”
“Nah, not yet. I might if anyone else brings it up”
The conversation slips into mindless chatter about work-related complaints and general whining, a worn-out but eternally popular way to destress. Suguru chuckles as Nanami recounts a particularly deranged email sent to finance and is about to join in and tell them about his latest run-in with a crazy customer, when a very loud bang makes everyone at the table jump.
A pint of beer has been slammed onto the table by a very angry-looking Gojo Satoru who’s staring at Suguru with narrowed eyes sparkling with annoyance.
“There” he mutters. “Let the challenge begin”
Suguru blinks and tries not to let the surprise show on his face; just now in the taxi, they’d been getting along just fine, their usual banter taking an almost friendly tone. Why is Satoru suddenly slipping back into his old ways"
“Thanks?” Suguru says, wondering what on earth he did to piss Satoru off this time.
“You can thank me later” Satoru huffs before downing a big gulp of beer. “When I’ve drunk you under the table”
Suguru turns in the chair, his face hardening as he glares daggers up at Satoru who is standing beside the table since all chairs are occupied.
“I’d like to see you try” he bristles before swiftly drinking half his glass in one go. Whatever truce they had in the car has evidently been blown to smithereens, and Satoru has gone back to being a goddamn dick.
Still, it’s hard to deny the heat simmering low in his belly as Suguru looks up to see Satoru sneering at him, his eyes glowing with the promise of yet another test of strength between them. Who cares whether this bet is childish? All sense of reason was thrown out the window the second Satoru levelled him with that awfully proud look, like he somehow thought he could come out on top in this competition. Suguru will put him in place, once and for all.
“Best of luck to you” Satoru says scornfully before walking away to sit a couple of tables away where there’s an empty seat. Suguru stares after him for a couple of seconds, trying to breathe through his nose. For a second there, he almost thought that Satoru was a decent person, that they could perhaps get along in the office. How wrong he had been! He had barely exchanged pleasantries with Shoko before Satoru switched back to his other personality at the drop of a hat.
Seriously, what’s wrong with him? What did Suguru do that would warrant this kind of behaviour? Sure, he was rude in the beginning, but just now he can swear that he did nothing wrong, unless talking to his actually friendly coworkers is some sort of crime.
Glaring at Satoru who’s inhaling his beer without even trying to talk to the people at his table, it takes minutes before Suguru realises that Shoko is calling his name. Embarrassed, Suguru turns back to the conversation but his mind keeps drifting away to the alpha so dead set on humiliating him every chance he gets.
Suguru will show him who’s the stronger alpha between the two, even if it’s through a stupid drinking challenge.
Suguru and Satoru take turns ordering and paying for their rounds, not missing the opportunity to spit venomous words every time they slam a pint down at the other’s table. The crowd quickly scatters around Satoru, leaving him almost alone at the table, and when Nanami decides to head home early, Satoru migrates over to their table, supposedly to monitor Suguru so he doesn’t cheat, and the bitter comments erupt into a full argument.
“Who says I’m wobbling?” Satoru hisses, his flushed cheeks betraying his state of inebriation. “I’m way steadier than you are”
“As if!” Suguru snarls, admittedly a little drunk himself. “We’re only four beers in and you’re already piss drunk. Just give up already”
Shoko, who could probably outdrink the whole office, just rolls her eyes at them before turning to talk to Haibara, the only other sane person left at the table.
“Me?” Satoru laughs hysterically, the beer sloshing around in his glass. “Give up? In your fucking dreams. You’re just scared cause you know you’re gonna lose”
In fact, Suguru is more than certain he’s going to win, considering how black-out drunk Satoru got on a few flutes of champagne on the last kickoff, but the words manage to rile him up nonetheless. Had they come from any other alpha, Suguru would have simply ignored them and left them to do their pathetic little cock-measuring alone, but since they come from Satoru, they make a primal, beastly urge rise within him, clawing at his throat, begging to be released.
If Suguru were sober, he’d feel ashamed at his own reaction to Satoru’s provocations; never, not even during puberty, has Suguru’s ego been so fragile that he has felt the need to compete with other alphas for dominance. But something about Satoru, whether it’s his delicious pheromones or the way his blue eyes shoot lightning bolts whenever he spots Suguru, is as intoxicating as the alcohol in his glass, causing him to abandon all pride and stoop as low as Satoru, ready to bare his fangs and sink them into the soft flesh of Satoru’s delectably flushed neck.
Satoru has a very pretty neck for an alpha, elegantly curved and dotted with a singular, dark mole by his collarbones. On one particularly hot day only two weeks ago, the AC was broken, and when the sun streamed in through the large windows and turned the whole top floor into a sauna, Satoru unbuttoned his dress shirt to cool himself down. For some reason, seeing his collar bones and that damned mole glistening with sweat enraged Suguru, nearly whipping him into a vicious beast,
What business did Satoru have walking around like that, flaunting his flawless neck for every unmated alpha and omega to see? It was nearly impossible to focus on work, Suguru’s canines aching with the need to bury themselves in warm, sweat-soaked flesh, signalling to the world that Satoru was not the cocky alpha he pretended to be, that he belonged to Suguru, pliant and submissive.
That afternoon remains the first, and only, time Suguru stomped over to Satoru’s desk, his voice hoarse with effort to hold back his growls as he bet that Satoru couldn’t answer more safety questions from the customer service team in one afternoon than him. If Satoru was surprised that Suguru approached him first instead of the other way around, he didn’t let it show, his eyes simply narrowing as he accepted the challenge.
Satoru was slouching in his chair as usual, his posture crouched over in a way that made Suguru’s own back ache just from seeing it, and for the first time, he was sitting down with Suguru towering over him. This new perspective, with Satoru looking up at him as he put up an air of defiance against Suguru’s advances, foolishly resisting the attempts to put him in place, made Suguru’s cock stiffen like he was a virgin discovering boobs for the first time.
Despite Suguru’s numerous, loud complaints about self-absorbed alphas trying to stake claim over omegas who are simply trying to exist in peace, he’s no better himself when it comes to a certain white-haired alpha, his spine always tingling with a strange need to own.
His throat strangely parched all of a sudden, Suguru rips his eyes away from Satoru’s elegant neck and the mole hidden under his shirt like a treasure waiting to be dug up, downing the last of his beer to moisten his dry mouth.
“Another round?” he challenges. “Or are you ready to admit defeat?”
“Bring it on” Satoru says cockily, either not realising or not caring that his eyes have started growing unfocused.
Suguru drinks the next beer with ease, though he’s starting to feel a little full from all the carbonated alcohol. Somewhere along the line, Shoko and Haibara have disappeared, probably heading home for the evening, but Suguru barely even notices their departure, too preoccupied with the alpha across from him.
“I’m telling you, just give up”
“Shut the fuck up and drink”
“Wow, so scary. Should we just take this outside?”
“Quit spouting nonsense”
With raised hackles, the two of them refuse to admit defeat, drinking as the rest of the team trickles out of the bar, leaving them to their own devices. Suguru have stopped caring about them long ago, the alcohol making him forget that there are people outside his and Satoru’s little bubble.
Under the table, Satoru’s launching a simultaneous attack on Suguru’s psyche by pressing his long leg up against Suguru’s thigh. He probably thinks that Suguru will lose his composure and pull out if he gets physically close. How ridiculous! As if Suguru will admit defeat over such a pitiful tactic. Determined to show his resolve, Suguru presses closer until their legs are tangled together under the table, the heat from Satoru’s skin seeping through their pants, making Suguru’s cheeks flush.
Being so close to Satoru undeniably kindles some kind of fire in Suguru’s chest, making him restless with vague urges involving teeth and tongues, but he will not give up.
When Suguru is on his tenth beer and Satoru is still struggling with his sixth, things finally start looking like they’re about to wrap up. There’s no one left from the office but the two of them, most having left to eat dinner or keep drinking at a cheaper bar. They’re surrounded by strangers who take little notice of the two alphas bitterly spewing venom as they drink, their scent patches the only thing that’s stopping them from fully scenting each other.
“‘nother round” Satoru slurs, but when he stands up to order he wobbles a little, swaying back and forth before losing his balance, falling forward against Suguru who suddenly finds himself with an armful of Satoru in his lap.
For a split second, Suguru is overwhelmed by the scent of Satoru’s pheromones, sweet and salty and laced with the metallic smell of beer. It’s like his mind has been wiped blank, only static remaining as a rumbling urge to biteclaimsubdue rises like a tornado in Suguru’s body. Satoru’s neck is so close, barely inches away from Suguru’s mouth, and he’d only have to lean forward a little bit to teach Satoru a lesson, teach him who’s really the alpha here…
Satoru stumbles to his feet, putting some distance between them, and Suguru regains his senses, quickly blaming his creepy obsession with conquering Satoru on the alcohol.
“I think you’ve had enough” Suguru says dryly.
“No way” Satoru says angrily, bumping into some poor beta who’s trying to walk past him. “Who are you to decide? You’re just some… some pretty alpha. You don’t get to boss me around”
“You’ve definitely had enough” Suguru decides, not daring to linger too much on the fact that Satoru called him pretty. Even if it’s an insult, it makes something stir in his stomach, something warm and proud that Suguru quickly makes sure to bury deep in his soul where he can’t look at it. “Let’s go”
Between Satoru’s vehement protests that they ‘haven’t settled the score yet’ and his less than stable walk, it takes almost ten minutes to haul Satoru out of the bar, the tall alpha resisting Suguru’s efforts as much as he can. When finally outside, Satoru resolutely lies down on the asphalt, refusing to move another inch if Suguru calls a taxi.
“For the love of God” Suguru hisses, trying and failing to keep his voice under control. “Please go home Satoru. The bet is over. You’re so drunk you can barely walk, there’s no way you would’ve been served another glass of anything but water. In fact, you getting another beer is about as likely as Bulgaria winning Eurovision”
“So what?” Satoru wails from where he’s lying on his back, his arms crossed like a very odd, very drunk Dracula in his casket. Some of the passersby twist their head to look at the scene and Suguru feels a sharp pain pierce his skull, his headache no doubt induced by Satoru’s behaviour. “I have beer at home! Come over to my place and finish the bet you coward”
For every word he speaks, Satoru’s voice rises in both pitch and volume, until he’s practically screaming. Suguru rubs his temples, at a loss for what to do. As much as he hates Satoru, he doesn’t feel too eager to leave him alone in the street, drunk enough to potentially get taken advantage of by who knows what kind of people. And while he doesn’t wish to ever step foot inside Satoru’s apartment, perhaps that’s the only way to get Satoru up from the sidewalk.
“Fine” Suguru mutters. “Fine! You win, let’s finish the bet at your place, just… please Satoru, stop making a scene”
Satoru immediately shoots up from where he’s lying, grinning so widely that his eyes crinkle at the corners. Without warning, he’s suddenly crowding Suguru, grabbing his shoulders to rattle him while he speaks fast enough for the words to blend together, his hot, beer-smelling breath making Suguru slightly dizzy.
“No take-backs!” he exclaims like a kid on christmas eve, and for some reason, Suguru’s lips twitch, and he just barely manages to suppress a smile. God he must really be drunk too.
“Fine” he repeats, trying to sound exasperated even as something warm that almost sounds like playful amusement slips into his voice. “Loser” he adds for good measure.
The second taxi drive of the evening is significantly louder than the first time, with Satoru talking Suguru’s ears off from the moment they step inside.
“Oh, you know that decrepit asshole Gakuganji?” Satoru babbles as Suguru fastens his seatbelt for him, humming faintly in response. “I found his stash of instant coffee in the kitchen and switched it for decaf”
Satoru giggles like he has successfully pulled off some grand mission, and Suguru struggles harder than ever not to grin. One of the few things that the two of them whole-heartedly agree about is head of marketing Gakuganji’s outdated and old-fashioned leadership style. While Suguru hides his distaste for the old man, he has silently agreed many times when Satoru called out his questionable decisions. If Suguru were sober he’d never admit it, but he almost respects Satoru for the way he’s unafraid to voice his concerns and complaints in the face of upper management.
“So childish” Suguru comments as the taxi speeds down the road, with Satoru squirming like a worm in the seat next to him, seemingly unable to sit still. Every now and then their knees bump into each other, reminding Suguru of how warm Satoru’s skin is.
“He deserves it” Satoru huffs. “God, why doesn’t he retire already? He must be a hundred years old at least”
“You should ask him” Suguru says. “Something like, ‘Hey Gakuganji, what was life like during the Ashikaga shogunate?’”
Suguru startles when Satoru bursts out laughing, his entire body shaking on the other side of the cab.
“God, you’re funny sometimes” he says with a grin. “Why aren’t you always this funny?”
And because the mood is sort of nice for once, Suguru doesn’t bother with responding that it’s because a certain someone insists on constantly antagonising him.
“Who knows” is all he says and Satoru whistles quietly.
“Alright then, keep your secrets”
The taxi rolls up to Satoru’s apartment fifteen minutes later, and Satoru seems to have sobered up a bit, not needing Suguru’s assistance up the stairs, and getting his key inside the keyhole at only the second try.
Satoru’s apartment is spacious, albeit sparsely decorated, and neater than Suguru had expected. Sure, Satoru kicks his shoes off in the hallway and tosses his jacket on the floor without bothering to properly put them away, but there’s no mouldy food in the kitchen and no empty chips bags littering the living room floor.
“Have a seat” Satoru says, vaguely gesturing towards the sofa. “I’ll go get the beer”
Suguru sits down on the sofa, suddenly a bit uncomfortable as he sinks down into the plush couch cushions. It looks like an expensive sofa, cream coloured and probably designer. Most notably, it’s the only piece of furniture in the living room, aside from a sleek glass table decorated with a single, empty vase. It’s becoming increasingly clear that not only is Suguru alone in Satoru’s apartment, a development he could never have foreseen, there’s nowhere for Satoru to sit except next to him on the couch.
Satoru walks into the living room with two cans of beer and an apologetic grimace on his face.
“It appears I only had two cans left” he says, setting the beer down on the table before sitting down next to Suguru. There are a couple of inches of space between them, but they’re close enough that only a brief movement would cause their knees to touch. For some reason, it feels different than it did at the bar; suddenly, the thought of touching Satoru sends a shiver down Suguru’s spine.
“No worries man” Suguru forces out. “Not like you had a shot at winning anyway”
He forces down a big gulp of beer to avoid looking in Satoru’s direction. Everything in the apartment, from the couch to the very air he breathes, is saturated in Satoru’s scent, and the sweet, flowery pheromones make Suguru’s head spin. Suguru suddenly feels desperate for another bet, anything to fill the silence between them so he can stop noticing how good Satoru smells.
“Whatever” Satoru huffs, finally realising that he’s playing a losing game. “I still won over you with the emails”
As immature as always. Suguru rolls his eyes, sipping on the beer.
“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend” he can’t resist countering, because now that he has seen Satoru’s empty apartment, he feels sure that Satoru’s loud boasts of being ‘really popular with the omegas’ were nothing but empty lies.
Satoru chokes and blushes redder than a traffic light, flailing his arms around like a madman.
“S-shut up!” he sputters. “I… I’ll have you know I bring omegas over all the time! T-that’s why I’m single, because I get so much omega p-pussy that I can’t settle down”
It’s the most blatant lie Suguru has ever heard, and he busies himself with another gulp of beer to resist laughing right in Satoru’s face. With Satoru’s beet-red cheeks and the way he can’t say the word pussy without stammering, Suguru wonders how on earth he thinks Suguru would ever buy such a lie. Still, the way Satoru flushes is quite pretty, the rosy dust spreading all the way down his neck, and Suguru puts his beer can down, deciding to play along.
“Really?” he asks, feigning curiosity. “Wouldn’t peg you as a player”
“I totally am” Satoru insists so quickly and enthusiastically that he trips over the words. “Like man, I can’t even count all the omegas I’ve… I’ve…”
“The omegas you’ve what?” Suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, delighting in the way Satoru flinches like a deer caught in the headlights. “Kissed? Fucked? Knotted?”
The air seems to prickle with static as Satoru avoids Suguru’s gaze, staunchly staring down into his lap as he wrings his hands. While not an official challenge, it’s obvious that he wants to beat Suguru in this game as well.
“All of it” he insists, as if Suguru can’t see right through him. At the base of Suguru’s spine, something tingles when the implication fully hits him; Satoru is a virgin. No one has seen him in the throes of pleasure, no one has spent their heat with him, no one has kissed the dark mole near his collarbones.
No alpha has staked their claim over him.
All the hair on Suguru’s body stands up, the apartment suddenly seeming a couple degrees warmer than it just did.
“Right” Suguru breathes out, still staring at Satoru. The dormant urge to claim Satoru has been awakened, roaring even louder in his ears now that he knows that he’d be the first. “I rest my case then, Casanova”
The last word rolls off Suguru’s tongue dripping with irony, and Satoru glares at him.
“It’s true” he sniffs, rubbing his nose indignantly. “I’ve kissed, like, hundreds of omegas. I bet I’m a way better kisser than you”
For a moment, Satoru doesn’t seem to realise what he has said. Suguru freezes and the words seem to hang in the air until Satoru’s eyes widen at the implication. He whips his head around, his expression almost frightened, and the heat simmering in Suguru’s belly erupts into a wildfire. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, or perhaps it’s simply the fact that Satoru so desperately tries to impress him even when it’s clear that he has never been touched like that, but Suguru’s skin breaks out into a fever and he shifts closer until their thighs are pressing up against each other.
“You bet you’re a better kisser now, huh?” Suguru rasps out, hoping Satoru won’t pick up on the way he’s already breathless. As the tension thickens in the air, everything seems to fall into place; all the months of harassment from Satoru has built up to this moment, the two of them drunk on the couch, their competitiveness driving them into new territory.
Satoru stares at him like a prey in front of a predator before swallowing, the bob of his Adam’s apple audible in the silent room. When he parts his lips, they’re trembling, as if he barely dares to utter the words he’s about to speak.
“Yeah” Satoru whispers before taking a deep breath, puffing up his chest and squaring his shoulders. “I bet I am”
Despite his feigned bravado, he flinches when Satoru reaches out to caress his cheek.
“Just so you know” Suguru murmurs as he slides his index finger down the edge of Satoru’s jaw. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge”
Satoru’s eyes flicker up to meet his, resolve hardening in those blue irises.
“Me neither” he proclaims boldly.
It’s all the confirmation Suguru needs, and he tightens his grip on Satoru’s jaw, drawing a delicate gasp from him before surging forward, capturing those quivering lips in a kiss.
Everything in Suguru’s body seems to liquify as the world melts away, burnt to ashes by the searing heat spreading throughout him. Satoru is warm and soft against him, sighing quietly as Suguru presses their lips firmly together. It’s hot, making Suguru’s scalp tingle, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough. When Suguru swipes his tongue across Satoru’s mouth Satoru instinctively parts his lips, just a smidge, and Suguru takes the opportunity to force his way inside.
Satoru jolts where he’s sitting petrified on the couch next to Suguru, and Suguru grabs his waist to keep him in place. Under his hold, Satoru’s body twists, as if he’s unsure whether to escape or stay tangled up with Suguru who gives him no time to make up his mind, licking into Satoru’s mouth. Satoru tastes like beer, and heat, and something salty. His tongue is slippery and warm, hesitantly meeting Suguru like he’s not quite sure how to meet these advances.
With the flames in his stomach burning hotter, his member rapidly stiffening in his pants, Suguru can’t resist pulling Satoru closer as he kisses him deeply and sloppily, shuddering every time their teeth clack. Suguru has kissed people before, and shouldn’t be too impressed by Satoru’s skills; his hands rest limply at his sides, not roaming Suguru’s back or tugging at his hair, his tongue moves clumsily, and he constantly messes up the rhythm. Still, somehow, it’s the hottest kiss Suguru has ever experienced.
When he finally pulls back a thin thread of saliva connects their lips, and Satoru stares at him with blown pupils, a dazed expression on his face.
“There” Suguru all but purrs, wiping Satoru’s bottom lip dry with the pad of his thumb. “Still think you’re the better kisser?”
This seems to break Satoru out of his stupor and he looks away, evidently embarrassed. He lets Suguru’s hands remain where they are though, keeping him on the couch.
“M-maybe you win this one” Satoru mumbles, staring at the sofa table like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “Maybe. I… I haven’t decided yet”
Suguru raises an eyebrow before twisting Satoru’s head back so they’re facing each other. He thoughtfully traces Satoru’s lips with his thumb, occasionally slipping in through the wet seem to touch Satoru’s teeth.
“You haven’t decided?” he asks mirthfully, watching Satoru’s eyes flicker around the room.
“I-I’ve kissed so many omegas, it’s… it’s hard to compare”
Suguru chuckles before forcing his finger inside Satoru’s mouth, drawing a surprised squeak out of Satoru. Satoru’s tongue is heavenly against Suguru and he can’t help but imagine that inexperienced, wet mouth around his cock, already rock hard and straining in his underwear.
“Satoru, darling” Suguru says, noting the way Satoru shudders at the demeaning pet name. “There’s no need to pretend. I know that you’re a virgin”
Satoru tries his best to glare at Suguru, a feat made difficult by the way he’s drooling over the finger in his mouth.
“‘m not” he protests, and despite his muffled words, he doesn’t pull back, letting Suguru thumb across the roof of his mouth, the back of his teeth.
“You are” Suguru insists calmly, pulling his thumb out to smear saliva all over Satoru’s cheek. “I can tell that you’ve never had a kiss like this, that you’ve never brought an omega home. You’ve never knotted anyone, have you?”
Satoru’s face deepens in colour, perhaps in rage, perhaps in something else. Suguru doesn’t know, too worked up to tell. He’s painfully hard, months of frustration finally exploding in arousal as Satoru stares at him with glossy eyes and wet lips. The perfect picture of debauchery, he looks so gorgeous, a defiant alpha just begging to get fucked, put in place, knotted, by another alpha. And despite knowing that it’s a low blow, an abuse of the rules and something he really shouldn’t do, Suguru can’t stop the words that spill out of his mouth.
“I bet you can’t take cock without crying”
The words ring in the living room, two hearts beating erratically as the weight of the proposal sinks in. Satoru’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and for a moment Suguru wonders if he fucked up, if HR will contact him on monday with a warning, or worse, a request for his letter of resignation. Then Satoru bats his hand away, his teeth clenched and the fog clearing in his eyes as they burn with newfound determination.
“Fucking try me”
Suguru feels the grin spread across his mouth before he can stop it. Finally. Finally. After watching Satoru prance around for months, challenging him time and time again, Suguru will get to shut him up with his cock, to show him that he’s not someone Satoru can try to dominate. So many bathroom breaks have been spent jerking off, thinking about what Satoru would look like when broken into submission and finally, Suguru will get to see it for himself.
Suguru’s hands shake with excitement as he abruptly stands up, giving Satoru no warning before grabbing him by the hair and practically tossing him on the floor. Satoru stumbles onto his knees and sends Suguru a murderous glare, a low growl already building in his chest. Suguru laughs breathily, exhilaration tingling in his chest.
“You wanna play like that?” he taunts. “I thought you said you could take it”
Satoru’s growl grows louder, and Suguru takes a moment to relish in the sight of a growling alpha kneeling by his feet, the most humiliating position an alpha could find himself in.
“Fine” he mutters, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt before pulling it off. “Have it your way”
With his neck exposed, Suguru easily finds the scent blocking patch, smoothly ripping it off in one moment. The reward for his actions is nothing short of delicious; Satoru’s whole body jerks forward as he chokes, his hands flying up to grasp for purchase on Suguru’s slacks. He’s hunched over, his chest convulsing as he tries to breathe through the waves of Suguru’s pheromones and Suguru lets him breathe for a couple of seconds before once again grabbing his hair, wrenching his head backwards. This time, all he’s rewarded with is a pitiful grumble, and Satoru is noticeably weak when he struggles against Suguru’s movements.
“Happy now?” Suguru asks sarcastically, sadistically, further aroused by the way Satoru glowers at him. Suguru wants nothing but to break Satoru’s pride until he’s no better than an omega in heat, but he’ll try to control himself; if he plays his cards well, Satoru will break his pride all on his own.
“What?” Suguru asks when Satoru makes no move. “Scared to take some alpha cock? Scared you’ll like it?”
Still grumbling to himself, Satoru reaches for Suguru’s fly with fumbling hands. It takes him three tries until he manages to undo the belt and pull the zipper down, pushing Suguru’s slacks down his hips. Once that’s done, Satoru momentarily pauses, eyeing the impressive bulge in Suguru’s pants with an expression that’s hard to interpret. Swirling in his eyes are a kaleidoscope of emotions: hunger, fear, excitement, apprehension. They blur together like a rainbow, making Suguru’s dick twitch under Satoru’s intense scrutiny.
Satoru draws a deep breath, bracing himself before grabbing the elastic of Suguru’s underwear, unceremoniously yanking them down. Suguru’s cock, hard and leaking, springs free, slapping up against his stomach. If Satoru paused earlier, he positively freezes now.
While usually fairly humble, at least compared to Satoru, Suguru can’t deny his generous size. He’s both longer and thicker than the average alpha, and that’s before his knot has even started swelling. Satoru has been stunned into complete silence, unable to tear his eyes away from the absolute unit in front of him. Pride swells in Suguru’s chest and he just barely manages to bite back another degrading remark about how he guesses Satoru has never seen a dick this big before since he has only ever seen his own.
“Come on baby” Suguru urges quietly, lightly caressing Satoru’s cheek. “You can do it”
The saccharine words break Satoru out of his daze and he bristles before grabbing Suguru’s cock with renewed vigour.
“I know” he says, letting his mouth fall open, only hesitating for a split second before wrapping those lips around the head of Suguru’s dick.
Suguru hisses as the warm heat envelops him, stiffening as he resists the urge to slam his entire cock down Satoru’s soft, waiting throat. Satoru immediately starts bobbing his head, no doubt copying what he has seen in porn, drooling over Suguru’s length as he works his way up and down the shaft. It’s one of the worst blowjobs Suguru has ever received; as hard as Satoru tries, he can barely fit half of Suguru inside his mouth, and his technique is awful, his hands holding onto Suguru’s hips instead of jerking off the parts he can’t reach with his mouth.
Suguru sighs softly, still stroking Satoru’s cheek in humiliating encouragement.
“You call this a blowjob?” he asks before lightly rocking his hips, sinking further past Satoru’s plush lips. Satoru coughs at the sudden intrusion and tries to squirm away but Suguru grabs hold of his hair, keeping him firmly in place. “The bet doesn’t count unless you actually try”
Satoru stills, growling in protest as Suguru feeds him inch after inch of his cock as patiently as he can, sliding in and out of Satoru’s pretty, pliant mouth. It’s definitely low of Suguru to use their bet to trick Satoru onto his knees, but when he watches the alpha diligently try his best to attend to the erection in his mouth, Suguru can’t bring himself to regret his decision. How could he? Satoru needs to be disciplined with a fat cock in his mouth to finally shut him up.
It feels like a dream come true, the sweet pleasure of being hugged by a wet mouth paired with the fact that it’s Satoru sucking him off, Satoru who has tried every trick he could come up with to compete with Suguru. That cockiness is nowhere to be seen now as he chokes and sputters on the hard member in his mouth, fruitlessly trying to keep up with Suguru’s thrusts.
“Good boy” Suguru mumbles, slowly and steadily fucking in and out of Satoru’s mouth, not stopping when Satoru retches. “Such an obedient alpha”
And without warning, Satoru fucking whines, loud and clear like some bitch in heat, and Satoru startles before looking down, sliding out of Satoru’s mouth and angling his face upwards to get a good look.
It feels like the air has been punched out of Suguru’s lungs.
Satoru’s eyes are wet and reddened, tears clinging to his white lashes, his cheeks flushed and his lips slick with drool. The once so obstinate alpha only manages a weak glare at Suguru’s ministrations, his inner instincts slowly breaking into pieces. Despite the degrading position, on his knees while another alpha forces their cock into his mouth, there’s a sizeable tent in Satoru’s pants, and when Suguru presses the heel of his foot against it Satoru whines again, the noise high-pitched and shrill as it slips out without his permission.
Suguru shudders.
The bet is over, he won, but he doesn’t want to stop here, not when he has seen how gorgeous Satoru looks when he’s about to relinquish control. Suguru needs more than just Satoru’s mouth.
“Fuck” Suguru mutters, pulling Satoru up before shoving him onto all fours on the couch. It’s the perfect position for breeding, on all fours with his ass presented, but Satoru is too far gone to thrash as Suguru pulls his pants and underwear down before mounting him, rutting his cock against the cleft of Satoru’s ass. “You’re so beautiful like this Satoru, you have no idea”
Satoru whimpers, squirming a little but ultimately letting Suguru dominate him. His neck is glistening with sweat, and now Suguru can clearly hear how his voice is wet with tears.
“I want to fuck you” Suguru whispers in his ear. “You’ll let me do that, won’t you? Breed you like an omega, fuck you full of cum until you get pregnant. We both know you’re no real alpha anyway, so I’ll be nice and fuck you real good”
“N-no” Satoru protests, turning his head to look at Suguru, blinking away his pitiful tears. “I’m an a-alpha”
Suguru sighs before smiling softly at Satoru, kissing the back of his neck as he palms Satoru’s erection.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks. “Because you’ve gotten awfully hard from being dominated by another alpha”
“No” Satoru staunchly denies and when Suguru pulls back he sees tears streaming down Satoru’s face.
“Come on” Suguru pleads as he squeezes Satoru’s weeping dick. “Just the tip, okay? I bet you can take it, you’re such a good alpha, presenting so prettily for me”
Perhaps it’s the pleasure from finally being touched where he needs it, or perhaps it’s the demeaning words, but for whatever reason, Satoru bites his lip before hiding his face in the couch cushions.
“Fine” he says, his voice muffled. “Just the tip”
“Good boy” Suguru praises, trying not to sound too eager. “Where do you keep your lube?”
For a moment, Satoru doesn’t answer and when he finally does, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“... under the cushions”
Suguru smirks at that, regretfully pulling himself from Satoru to rummage around under the couch cushion until his fingers close around a small bottle.
“Did you jerk off here recently?” he asks, and when he receives no answer he clicks his tongue in annoyance, lightly slapping Satoru’s ass. “Answer me”
“Yes” Satoru admits, still hiding his face in the pillows.
Suguru chuckles, pulling Satoru’s pants off properly before removing his own.
“So horny” he says with delight, hungrily eyeing the swell of Satoru’s ass. “Sorry I wasn’t here to fuck you like you deserve. Take your shirt off, will you?”
Somewhere deep inside Satoru, his inner alpha is probably screaming at him for following another alpha’s demands, but he doesn’t voice these complaints as he unbuttons his shirt before sliding it off. Fuck, perhaps he’s already broken, his inner alpha cowering in submission.
When the shirt is off Suguru sees the scent blocking patch on the back of Satoru’s neck and it irks him endlessly where it sits, obstructing Satoru’s scent gland and blocking his delicious pheromones. Suguru grabs the edge of the patch before peeling it off, tossing it to the side. Satoru’s scent, dripping with honey and arousal and submission, assaults Suguru in full and he closes his eyes as he draws in a deep breath of it, clenching his fists until his nails break the skin in an attempt to ground himself before he ruts against Satoru like a dog.
“You smell so good” Suguru mumbles, nuzzling against Satoru’s neck, his eyes rolling back into his skull when he finally gets to smell the cause of so many wet dreams, straight from the source. Still draped over Satoru, smelling his aroused pheromones as they leak from his scent gland, Suguru blindly fumbles for the bottle of lube, opening it to squeeze some of it onto his fingers. He probably spills some of it on the couch but he’s too far gone to care.
Satoru twitches as Suguru reaches down, rubbing his fingers over his fluttering entrance.
“Relax” Suguru mutters into Satoru’s skin before mouthing along the line of his shoulders. “It’ll feel so good for you to finally get filled”
Suguru pushes a finger inside, his mind nearly wiped blank by how tight and hot Satoru is around him. If this is how it feels to have a finger inside, how will it feel to push his cock inside?
Satoru throws his head back, nearly head-butting Suguru as his mouth drops open in a drawn-out moan. Suguru mercilessly pushes his finger further inside, allowing Satoru no time to adjust before crooking it, scraping along Satoru’s insides in search of that spot that’s supposed to make male alphas see stars.
“Feel good?” Suguru mumbles as he pumps his finger in and out, trying to stretch Satoru so his hole can take his cock. “Imagine what it’ll feel like to have my cock inside. You’re so tight, I have no idea how it’ll fit”
Satoru sobs and Suguru chuckles cruelly before inserting another finger, alternating between thrusting them inside and scissoring them. He harshly grabs Satoru’s buttcheek, kneading it before spreading it to the side, watching with ravenous eyes how his glistening fingers are swallowed by Satoru’s greedy hole. Satoru’s mewls in protest, weakly swatting at Suguru’s arms.
“S-stop looking” he protests, trying to salvage the last of his dignity.
“But your hole is so pretty” Suguru says, shivering in delight as he hears the squelching of his finger going in and out of the slick opening. “You’re doing so well for your alpha”
Satoru grows lucid for a moment, his head jerking upwards as he snaps his teeth in thin air, his instincts bucking ferociously at the treatment. Suguru lets go of his ass before grabbing Satoru’s neck in a vice-like grip, pushing his face back into the mattress. Satoru struggles and squirms as Suguru prods around, and when Suguru finally finds that special spot, Satoru stiffens before going lax, mewling into the couch as Suguru jabs his fingers into his prostate.
“That’s better” Suguru says nonchalantly before pushing a third finger inside, curling them to abuse the spot that has Satoru drooling all over the sofa. “Just lie still and take it like a good little alpha. You’re no good for anything but being fucked anyway, right?”
Satoru sniffles at the insults, but his hips seem to move on their own, canting up to meet Suguru’s fingers. His dick swings hard and heavy between his legs, wet and dribbling, probably aching where it’s left neglected.
When Satoru starts feeling loose around Suguru’s fingers he pulls them out, squeezing more lube onto his dick before lining it up against Satoru’s hole, rubbing it back and forth against the entrance. His eyes darken at the sight of the fluttering hole, soft and ready to be filled with cock. Just as he is about to push inside, Satoru twists his head to look at Suguru with glossy eyes.
“Just the tip” he reminds Suguru who doesn’t even look at him, too entranced by the sight of his cock nudging Satoru’s hole.
“Just the tip” he repeats deliriously, before pushing. There’s a bit of resistance, and then he slips past Satoru’s entrance, sinking inside the tight heat. Satoru gasps and Suguru’s fingers flex on his hips, struggling to stay sane as his head spins with the sensation of being hugged by those snug, wet walls.
“Fuck” Suguru groans, dropping his forehead to rest on Satoru’s shoulder as he reaches down, blindly fumbling across Satoru’s stomach in search of his erection. Satoru’s stomach jumps and he involuntarily clenches around Suguru who grits his teeth, his mind blacking out as he sinks an inch deeper.
Satoru whines, clenching the edge of the couch so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“S-Suguru!” he tries to admonish, though it comes out more as a moan than a threat. “Y-you said you’d only put the tip in!”
“Sorry” Suguru mumbles, not feeling very sorry at all, not with the blissful heat his cock is sheathed in. He wraps his fingers around Satoru’s neglected dick, pumping it firmly to distract himself before he goes insane, rapaciously taking and taking until Satoru is so fucked so full that he passes out. “But you’re so hard already… just a little bit more, okay?”
Satoru sobs as Suguru rolls his hips, forcing him to take another inch of his thick cock. Despite his fervent protests, Satoru’s dick is positively dripping as Suguru squeezes it clumsily, too out of his mind with pleasure to properly jerk it.
“Such a gorgeous cock” Suguru mumbles. “So big and long… it’s such a shame you’ll never get to put it anywhere, right? Hanging there uselessly, dribbling like a pussy for me”
“S-shut up” Satoru tries weakly, his voice hoarse and broken. It’s truly an addictive feeling; Satoru has always sat on his high horse, overly confident in everything he does, arrogantly boasting his talents and challenging Suguru’s dominance, and now he’s been reduced to a slobbering, sobbing mess. Knowing that he’s the only one who has gotten to see this side of Satoru only spurs Suguru on.
He wants to bully Satoru until he breaks apart, loses all sense of reason and becomes a drooling doll on his cock.
“You’re more like an omega than an alpha at this point” Suguru marvels, thrusting deeper into Satoru. “Did you ever seriously think you’d get to use your cock Satoru? Hm?”
“You p-promised” Satoru whines. “You said you’d only put, hngh, the t-tip inside”
“Come on” Suguru murmurs, mouthing along Satoru’s shoulder, suckling at the naked skin. “You’re so wet for me today. Just a little more, I promise I’ll stop soon…”
Of course, Suguru has no thoughts about stopping anytime soon; Satoru’s sniffles at being degraded are reverberating around the room, his smooth legs shaking as Suguru bullies his way further inside. His dick twitches in Suguru’s grip, hard and proud despite the humiliating position.
There’s no way in hell Suguru is pulling out now.
Once he has bottomed out, Suguru stops for a second, allowing Satoru a short respite. Suguru tries to breathe, tries to calm down, but his blood is boiling, his length further hardening every time Satoru twitches around him. His head has grown fuzzy, his skin burning up, the rational part of his brain sinking deeper and deeper into a sea of feverish arousal
Suguru raises his head from where he’s been resting it, taking in the sight before him; Satoru’s neck is flushed pink, his entire frame shaking with the effort it takes simply to hold himself up. If he glances down, Suguru can see the point where their bodies join, his dick glistening with the lube leaking from Satoru’s hole. He lets go of Satoru’s dick, grabbing his waist with a bruising force before pulling out an inch only to slam back inside.
Satoru throws his head back and screams, his back arching beautifully. Suguru grins and thrusts again, building up a slow, deep rhythm.
“So gorgeous” he mumbles, rolling his hips in and out of the tight, wet heat. “So pretty and obedient, all for me”
Satoru garbles something that barely resembles words, scrambling to hold onto something, anything, as Suguru fucks him.
“You were made for this” Suguru continues as he slams inside, ripping a wet moan from Satoru’s lips; he’s probably drooling by now. “Is this what you’ve always wanted? Was that why you kept challenging me every day? Were you hoping I’d snap one day and bend you over a table, fucking you in front of the whole office so everyone got to see what a fucking slut you are?”
Suguru groans as he snaps his hips, quickening his pace as he drives his cock as deep inside Satoru as he can.
“D-don’t…” Satoru manages, his voice broken, and Suguru chuckles.
“Don’t what?” he asks, grabbing Satoru’s chin to turn his head around. “Don’t stop? Don’t pull out? You gotta use your words”
Satoru’s eyes are red-rimmed and hazy, glossed over with pleasure and tears that slowly roll down his cheeks. A trickle of spit runs down his open lips, and Suguru just barely resists the urge to collect it on his thumb and shove it back into his mouth.
“Don’t” Satoru pants, “s-say things like that…”
Every word is punched out of him, spoken with great difficulty as Suguru pounds him into the mattress, and Suguru realises that it’s only a matter of time until he can’t speak at all.
“Oh, but I will” Suguru asks, his tone a little mean. “You deserve to hear about how much I love your little cunt, how well it takes me. You’re such a slut, spreading your legs for me and dripping like an omega when I fuck you. Do you really like it that much? Being forced to take an alpha’s cock like this, having your cunt filled, does it turn you on?”
Satoru cries, babbling something incoherent that sounds like a cross between a moan and a protest.
“God you feel so good, Satoru” Suguru groans, grabbing Satoru’s hips to gain leverage to thrust even more brutally. “Should have fucked you the moment you started acting bratty. Who knew some cock was all it would take to turn you nice and obedient?”
Suguru’s thrusts turn erratic as the heat starts building in his stomach, his entire body tingling as he feels his climax approaching. His knot has started swelling, reacting to Satoru as if he’s an omega in heat, and his fangs are aching uncomfortably, itching to sink into flesh. Suguru feels his knot bumping against Satoru’s rim and slams into Satoru harder than before, trying to shove his knot inside while he watches Satoru’s scent gland ripple temptingly under the skin of his neck.
“Let me knot you” Suguru whispers. “Will you let me do that, please Satoru, will you let me fill you up and knot you?”
Satoru sobs brokenly, completely and utterly forced into humiliating submission, before nodding, no longer able to string together words. Suguru grits his teeth, grinding his hips to force the knot inside the tight hole. Satoru isn’t an omega, but if Suguru just pushes a little harder he’s sure he’ll get his knot inside.
Satoru moans wordlessly when Suguru leans forward, kissing his scent gland as he feels Satoru’s walls slowly but surely accommodating his knot. The pressure is maddening, and Suguru truly feels like he’s going insane with pleasure, his knot being hugged in all the right ways.
“That’s it baby” Suguru murmurs deliriously. “Just a bit more, I’m almost inside…”
The knot pops into place, locking them together, and Suguru’s vision goes white when he cums, every coherent thought wiped from his brain as he opens his mouth, mindlessly sinking his teeth into Satoru’s scent gland. Suguru groans against the skin, lapping at the bleeding wound as his heart jackhammers in his chest, drowning out any sense or reason apart from the viciously animalistic joy at having successfully claimed his partner. The waves of his orgasm roll over him and he keeps cumming into the deliciously wet heat, until even his knot isn’t enough to plug it all inside, a trickle of semen running out and dripping onto the couch.
Only then, when he has finally gathered a bit of his senses, does Suguru reach for Satoru’s cock only to realise that it’s wet with his spend, slowly softening as he soils the couch with weak spurts of cum.
Suguru hums in satisfaction, his inner alpha proud at having satisfied his partner.
“Didn’t it feel so good to be filled and knotted?” Suguru mumbles, his eyes fluttering back into his skull when Satoru twitches around his dick. Like he’s in some kind of rut, he’s still hard and ready to go, ravenous to fill Satoru up again and again.
Satoru stiffens when Suguru tugs at his oversensitive cock, gathering the cum on his fingers before lifting his hand to his mouth, making sure to suck his fingers clean as loud as he can so Satoru will hear it.
“You taste so good” Suguru mumbles before circling his arms around Satoru’s waist, yanking him up before maneuvering him onto his lap. Satoru hisses softly when the knot tugs at his rim, only relaxing when Suguru sits him down, plunging his dick deeper inside again. Suguru hugs him from behind, pressing his sweaty chest to Satoru’s back before forcefully twisting Satoru’s head around, sloppily kissing him. Satoru is no longer able to speak properly but he has the presence of mind to kiss Suguru back, sloppily sucking on Suguru’s tongue and biting his lips.
“I’m sorry Satoru, but I’m not quite done yet” Suguru mutters before gyrating his hips in circular motions, groaning when his knot is squeezed.
It’s like he has gone insane, his skin burning with an insatiable lust for the alpha in front of him. His thoughts are muddled, feverish, unable to narrow down and focus on anything but the wet hole his cock is sheathed in, the way his knot is squeezed by the alpha he has claimed, his mate. If Suguru were lucid he’d of course realise that he can’t claim another alpha, that the bite was simply the final step in subduing Satoru fully, but in the haze of arousal, Suguru has lost connection with his human side.
Satoru only whimpers quietly when Suguru starts rocking his hips in small movements, shoving his cock as deep as he can before pulling out slightly, his knot tugging at Satoru’s rim, cum squelching and dribbling out of the abused hole. He fucks Satoru slowly and carefully but insistingly, feeling the hole twitch around him, greedily sucking him in like it doesn’t want to be empty for a single second.
”Don’t worry, I got you” Suguru babbles nonsensically, jerking Satoru’s cock while Satoru gasps, whining at the overstimulation. It might be a protest but to Suguru it sounds like a plea for more, a plea from his mate, and he redoubles his efforts, digging his thumb into the slit before tightening his grip on Satoru’s cock, determined to satisfy his mate like he deserves.
When Satoru comes again he does so without warning, his mouth dropping open in a silent scream when his cock suddenly jumps, squirting a stream of watery liquid onto his belly and thighs. Suguru hooks his chin over Satoru’s shoulder, mesmerised as he sees Satoru’s cock twitching, weakly spurting that watery, clear fluid that’s not semen.
”Wow baby” Suguru breathes, unable to tear his eyes away from the absolute vision of Satoru’s thighs glistening and sticky. ”Did you squirt? Or did you just piss yourself?”
Satoru garbles something before his head lolls back, resting limply on Suguru’s shoulder as Suguru continues fucking him like a ragdoll, maneuvering his listless body to shove his knot further inside.
“So gorgeous” Suguru mumbles, feeling almost feral with desire. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
Suguru glances at Satoru’s face to find his eyes closed, his mouth open as drool trickles down his chin; Satoru has passed out. Suguru groans, his cock twitching at the sight of Satoru’s fucked out face, some primal instinct inside of him crooning at the fact that he fucked his mate until he passed out. His hips move on their own, not stopping as he props Satoru’s body up properly, helplessly moving with shallow thrusts until he cums again, filling Satoru up a second time. Suguru’s knot has started going down and some of the semen dribbles out, pooling in the mess between them.
Suguru keeps Satoru on his dick, fucking him like he has been possessed until his knot goes down enough for him to slip out. Suguru growls in frustration, his sanity having disappeared to some faraway corner of his mind, fumbling eagerly to nudge his dick back inside again. He can’t think anymore, can’t speak, can only snarl as he buries himself over and over again in Satoru’s slippery heat, biting obsessively along the lines of Satoru’s shoulder, marking any expanse of skin within his reach.
Only after climaxing a third time does the frenzy in Suguru’s heart dissipate a little, leaving him calm enough to finally halt his movements. If Suguru were lucid he’s feel the strain in his pelvic muscles and thighs, but he’s still slipping somewhere between insanity and ferality, not mentally present enough to do anything but flop down on the ruined sofa, pulling Satoru into his arms to guard him. A fiercely protective urge has blossomed in his throat, no doubt heightened by the placebo effect of the pseudo claiming bite on Satoru’s neck.
The growls rumbling in Suguru’s chest don’t stop even as he hugs Satoru so close that Satoru whimpers in his sleep, and they only grow silent when he closes his eyes and starts drifting off to sleep, still refusing to let go of the mate in his arms.
Suguru wakes up with a pounding headache and a familiar, itchy heat crawling across his skin. He realises instantly that he’s in rut, a thought that confuses him since he’s not due to have his rut for at least another month.
He rolls over in bed only to come face to face with a peacefully sleeping face crowned with a tangled mess of white hair. Somewhere during the night, the worst of his frenzy must have cleared and allowed him to loosen his hold on Satoru and roll away. The initial shock makes way for horror when Suguru sees the angry, red bite marks littering Satoru’s shoulders and collarbones. In an instant, the memories of last night come surging back like a tidal wave; they're hazy, not from alcohol but from the intense arousal that Suguru now understands was a symptom of his rut, but they’re clear enough to paint a picture that makes Suguru’s blood run cold. He remembers them kissing, he remembers feeding Satoru his dick, he remembers asking to put it in, promising that it would just be the tip…
After that, things get very blurry but Suguru knows for sure that he put more than the tip inside. He’s also sure that Satoru passed out some time during their intercourse.
He glances towards Satoru, hesitating before reaching out to gently twist his head to the side. When he spots the red teeth mark at the base of Satoru’s neck, it feels like he has been punched in the gut. The heat prickling his skin turns into a raging fire and Suguru pulls back like he has been stung, scared of the beast that roars inside of him, screaming at him to flip Satoru’s sleeping form over and sink back into his wet, waiting hole.
Suguru stumbles out of the couch, landing on the floor with a dull thud before pulling his boxers on, nearly getting tangled up and tripping in the process. His heartbeat thumps in his ears as he wrestles his pants on, sweat beading at his temples.
He fucked Satoru.
Not only that, he knotted Satoru after promising to only put the tip inside. Suguru’s stomach swirls uncomfortably with guilt and shame, and he nearly runs out the door and down stairs. How many times has he scoffed at those alphas whose instincts get the better of them during their ruts? How the fuck did he turn into one of them? And how did Satoru, another alpha, induce a pseudo-rut? How the fuck did his rut even hit him this quickly, and without any warning?
Suguru’s head is whirling with questions, his distress the only thing sobering him up and keeping him from giving into his inner alpha’s demands and fucking Satoru again. Satoru’s still sleeping so he wouldn’t put up a fight for dominance like yesterday. Suguru could slip right inside, Satoru is probably still loose from last night, and he could fuck him slow and deep until Satoru wakes up. That’s when he’d speed up, fucking Satoru hard and fast until he’s screaming…
Suguru raises an arm to his mouth, biting down until his eyes sting with tears and he tastes blood in his mouth. The pain works somewhat, cleaning a bit of the oncoming, rut-induced mania. Never before has Suguru lost control like this, allowing his instincts to dominate him and turn him into an animal. He needs to get out of the apartment where everything is soaked in Satoru’s pheromones right now, before he does something else he’ll regret.
Stepping outside of the apartment to breathe the fresh air outside is both like breathing clean air for the first time and like being dropped face first into a dump. Because of the rut, Suguru’s sense of smell is heightened and the scent of the betas, omegas and alphas in the building clog Suguru’s nose all at once, each scent more disgusting to him than the last. But the foul smell clears the worst of his mad desire, waking the rational part of his brain up and causing him to sink deeper into despair.
There’s a slippery lump of anxiety lodged in his throat as Suguru stumbles down the street in the very first walk of shame in his life. His ears are ringing and he can already hear the clipped voice of the HR manager as they pull him aside on Monday to have a talk…
Fuck, can Suguru get away with a warning? Or will he be asked to immediately hand in his letter of resignation?
When Suguru staggers in through his apartment door he’s drenched in sweat, partly from the anxiety rolling inside of him and partly from the pseudo-rut. After downing a handful of rut-suppressant pills without stopping to count them Suguru throws himself on his bed, face down, breathing into his pillow as he tries to organise his muddled thoughts.
What he knows for certain is that he had sex with Satoru. Multiple times. Probably even when Satoru was passed out, god, what has he done?
All in all, perhaps getting fired is the best case scenario; Suguru will consider himself lucky if he can avoid a lawsuit.
And the worst part of all is that when Suguru thinks of last night, his cock stiffens as he recalls the way Satoru had looked at him with glistening eyes, all submissive and whining as his tight hole hugged Suguru’s cock just right…
Suguru exhales shakily and closes his eyes, refusing to touch his dick. In an hour or two the suppressants will alleviate the worst of his symptoms, and after that, he will just suffer through this pseudo rut without relief, like he deserves to.
Since it’s not a proper rut, it only lasts for about a day, leaving Suguru ample time to wallow in his misery the entire Sunday. Multiple times he starts googling ’office guidelines for knotting your coworker’ but he ends up chickening out every time, too scared of the answer to actually click search. His fingers hover above the contact-button by Satoru’s profile on their internal messaging channel just as many times, his heart racing as he stares at Satoru’s profile picture (one where he sticks his tongue out while screwing his face up in a childish, and completely unprofessional way). Just like how Suguru doesn’t dare looking up the consequences of his actions, he never quite musters the courage to send Satoru a message, and he goes to bed on Sunday evening feeling more dejected than ever.
The bus ride to work the following day is simultaneously the longest and shortest of Suguru’s life, the dread mounting in his stomach until he physically struggles to walk in through the doors of the office building, his feet heavy as he drags them behind himself. Breathing calmly to keep the anxiety from showing on his face, he nods good morning to the receptionist before sitting down at his desk, opening his computer with sweaty fingers that leave gross prints on his screen.
He stares blankly at the screen for a full minute before slowly, mechanically entering his password, opening the first case he lays his eyes on without bothering to check if it’s labelled as high priority.
Suguru ends up spending a whopping twenty minutes just trying to read the brief description of the case, and when he asks his coworker for assistance, he receives a poorly disguised look of sheer shock. Suguru helps other when they have questions, he never asks them. After seeing Suguru’s blank stare and realising that it’s not some weird prank, Suguru’s coworker clears their throat to explain what the case is about.
Even after the explanation, Suguru barely understands what the case is about. Phishing perhaps? Or maybe it was suspected money laundering.
When lunch rolls around, Yaga comes over to ask Suguru how he’s doing with a concerned frown marring his face. Suguru’s heart speeds up so much that he barely manages to speak, sweating bullets until his black dress shirt is soaked. He keeps stuttering, cutting himself off to reformulate his sentences, and it’s only when Yaga suggests for him to take a break and rest in the rest room that Suguru realises that Satoru mustn’t have said anything yet.
The thought should make him relieved but it only makes the iron bands of anxiety squeeze his chest tighter. If he hasn’t said anything yet, when will he? Just how long is he going to dangle this over Suguru’s head?
“I’m fine” Suguru says through gritted teeth. “I just… I had a fever over the weekend”
It’s technically not a lie, and it’s the closest thing he can get to telling the truth. It’s not like he can tell his manager that he went feral during a very sudden rut and fucked the other top agent’s brains out now, can he?
Yaga accepts his excuse and leaves, though not before reminding Suguru not to overwork himself. Suguru nods silently before returning to his computer screen, realising with a sting of humiliation that he has so far only handled two cases the entire day.
Slowly but surely, Suguru manages to fight his way through the second half of the day. It’s hard, especially since he flinches every time someone walks past his desk, but so far he has not spotted Satoru. At first, there wasn’t anything odd in that; Satoru has weird sleeping habits and usually arrives earlier at the office, and he typically sits on the other side of the floor, near the kitchen. What’s unusual is that the clock is nearing four and Satoru still hasn’t come to bother Suguru even once, not to loudly announce a new bet or even to throw little projectiles of balled up paper at him.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise to Suguru, given the way he unleashed his rut on the poor guy, but it still makes something uncomfortable stir at the pit of his stomach. The longer he sits in his chair, twitching every time someone passes him, the more he realises how badly he has screwed up. As annoying as Satoru can be, and as much as he enrages Suguru every chance he gets, Suguru doesn’t truly hate the guy. While Suguru would never admit it, the constant head-butting has livened up his monotone office days, and last night even showed him that when they’re not at each other’s throats, Satoru is quite fun to be around.
And of course, at that moment, right when Suguru started thinking that they could perhaps get along in the future, he had to ruin everything. How ironic that Suguru, the guy who so staunchly refused Satoru’s friendly advances in order to keep things professional, was the one to ravage him until he passed out!
Suguru anxiously taps a pen against his desk, jittery with nerves as he tries to do his job. The seconds drag on agonisingly slowly, his thoughts so scattered that he doesn’t put two and two together when he suddenly feels very calm and relaxed. Suguru closes his stinging eyes, his tense body unwinding as he drags in the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and ocean salt and…
Suguru’s eyes fly wide open a second too late, and he comes face to face with the object of his desire, shame and countless fantasies over the course of these past few months. Much like on friday afternoon Satoru is standing by his desk, only this time his face is stiff and grim, none of the usual cockiness present.
“Hi” he says quietly, the knot in Suguru’s stomach hardening to steel at the dejected greeting.
This is it, Suguru realises. He has come to rip me to shreds.
Swallowing, Suguru just barely manages to stay calm, breathing slowly to keep the panic at bay. Whatever Satoru has to say, he’ll stay cool and level-headed. He won’t get defensive, he’ll stay quiet and listen and accept any terms Satoru comes with.
“Hello” Suguru manages to say, his voice rough.
Satoru fiddles with his hands, looking uncomfortable and deeply unhappy, a sight that has Suguru’s insides twisting painfully. Oh how he hates that look on Satoru, and he hates himself even more for putting it there.
“I think we should talk” Satoru says, the gravity of his words making the ground quake under Suguru’s feet. He nods robotically, his hands as heavy as lead as he closes his laptop.
“I agree” he says, his voice monotonous.
“ABBA is free” Satoru mutters, scraping his loafers against the carpet. “So we can have some… privacy”
“Great” Suguru says without a shred of emotion. “Let’s go”
Suguru’s body has never felt heavier than it does as he drags himself out of his chair to follow Satoru to the meeting room cheekily named ABBA. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand tons each, but the distressed pheromones oozing from Satoru, faint through the scent blocking patch but still there, cause him to reflexively pump out calming pheromones in response. When he closes the door after them, the air in the room quickly thickens with their respective scents, and Suguru knows that the meeting room will be unusable for at least an hour.
Satoru stops in the middle of the room, wavering like he’s considering sitting down before whirling around to face Suguru. Sweat is beading on his pale forehead, and Satoru looks almost seasick where he stands a couple of feet away, his fists clenched like it’s physically painful to be in the same room as Suguru.
The seconds drag on, both of them unsure how to express themselves, and Suguru bites his tongue, trying to organise his thoughts.
The first step is to apologise profusely. After that, he’ll let Satoru talk and listen as long as he has to, not interrupting no matter how angry Satoru gets. Finally, he’ll accept whatever demands Satoru makes of him. If it’s a transfer, a relocation, hell even his resignation, Suguru won’t protest. He did this; he deserves whatever consequences befall him.
Suguru takes a deep breath, bracing himself as he opens his mouth to apologise.
”I’m sorry!”
Suguru is so focused on mentally rehearsing his apology that he for a split second thinks that he’s the one who has apologised. It takes a moment before he realises that the words just uttered came out of Satoru’s mouth and he looks up, disoriented, wondering why on earth Satoru is apologising to him instead of the other way around. It must be some kind of joke before Satoru hands him the restraining order, but Satoru is hugging himself to make himself look smaller, a gloomy look on his face, and he doesn’t look spiteful at all.
“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you” Satoru mutters, and Suguru’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull. “I’m… I’m really sorry about what I did and I understand if you never want to speak to me again. Hell, I understand if you report me to HR. I wanted to reach out over the weekend but I figured it would be better to apologise in person so… yeah. I apologise”
He solemnly bows at a ninety degree angle while Suguru tries to makes sense of what’s happening. Are they talking about the same night?
“I…” Suguru stammers, “why… why are you apologising?”
Satoru straightens out, his brows knitted together in deep remorse.
“Because I…”
He trails off, breaking eye contact before steeling himself, clearing his throat and forcing himself to continue in a calm, levelled voice.
“I knew you were drunk” he says, gazing out the window as if the skyline is particularly striking today. “And I could smell that you were going into pre-rut. I know you take our bets seriously and I used them to… to manipulate you for my own gain, and I understand that this time I really went over the line”
Satoru exhales shakily, furiously scratching the back of his head until his white hair sticks up in every direction in a distractingly cute way. It’s starting to sink in that Satoru isn’t playing around, his words are very much sincere and his arms have started flailing as he speaks, his erratic movements whispering of genuine anxiety on his part. Suguru is too stunned to do anything but listen in silence as Satoru rambles on, gesticulating nervously.
“I-I understand if you ask HR to transfer me to another team, or even another branch, and I truly won’t hold it against you. Fuck it, I’ll report the whole thing myself if you want to, I won’t mention your name or anything, I’ll just tell them I… I courted someone against their will and took advantage of them and… fuck, I’m the world’s worst person, aren’t I?”
Satoru buries his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and Suguru finally gathers his wits enough to speak.
“Courted?” he asks weakly, feeling faint with the onslaught of information.
Satoru pulls his hands away, his face grim as he keeps strict eye contact with the floor.
“Yeah” he admits, his voice very small. “I’ve liked you ever since I transferred but you never noticed my advances so I figured I’d try a different approach, but I swear, I never… I never planned on doing something like this, I wanted to get to know you so I could wine and dine you and be all romantic and stuff, but then you just smelled so good and… no, shit, that came out wrong, I don’t mean to blame you for it, I just-”
“Satoru” Suguru cuts in before taking a cautious step closer. “All the bets, all the teasing… were you… was that your idea of courting me?”
Satoru flinches and turns his whole head around but it’s too late, Suguru can already see the blush spreading down his neck. It encourages him to step even closer, like a predator closing in on its prey.
“I just wanted your attention” Satoru says and his voice is so small that Suguru almost doesn’t hear him. “You wouldn’t look my way no matter what I did so I thought… I thought that maybe if I proved myself, proved that I’m a strong, capable alpha, you'd at least be a little impressed with me…”
Suguru reaches out and slides his hand around Satoru’s jaw before gently but firmly turning his head back around. Satoru is shaking, his face beet-read, and he still refuses to look Suguru in the eye. Somehow, this sudden bashfulness, so different from his usual confident persona, suits him just as well as the look of pleasure when he was forced to submit to Suguru. It makes something warm settle at the pit of Suguru’s stomach, and his fingers itch to reach around his neck and touch the bite mark, the physical proof that he has claimed Satoru.
“I’m sorry” Satoru repeats helplessly. “You must think that I’m some disgusting freak who can’t even control his instincts”
“Satoru” Suguru interrupts again, his voice so low that it almost slips into a growl. “You’re not the one who should apologise. I was the one who promised I’d only… erhm, put the tip in.” Even if they’re alone in the meeting room, it still feels forbidden to say such lewd words at the office. Suguru hurries to move on, his hand coming down to rest on Satoru’s shoulder. “I owe you an apology”
Finally, finally, Satoru looks up, his eyes wide in surprise.
“What?” he asks, too surprised to remember his own embarrassment. “But I wanted you to”
It’s Suguru’s turn to gape.
“But you kept saying… you kept reminding me to…”
Satoru delicately clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. Suguru can’t help but notice the fact that despite their proximity, despite Suguru’s hand touching him through his dress shirt, Satoru has made no move to put distance between them.
“Well” Satoru mumbles shyly, “I’m still an alpha after all. I couldn’t exactly beg for your kn-knot, could I?”
Despite the many R-rated things they did a couple of days ago, in many different positions, Satoru just barely manages to get the words out, making Suguru’s stomach flutter with equal parts endearment and arousal. He has started relaxing a bit, the cold lump of anxiety dissolving into something warm that spreads from his gut all the way out to his fingertips, burning the hottest where he’s touching Satoru.
Satoru likes him.
Satoru wanted him to knot him.
Satoru has been courting him, even if it was in the most awkward and rude way imaginable.
Suguru can’t help the smile that stretches across his face as he takes another step closer, until their chests are touching.
“Do you always do things in such a roundabout way?” he asks, the teasing lilt to his tone lost on Satoru who vehemently shakes his head, almost headbutting Suguru in the process.
“No” he says. “I’m sorry I just… I understand if this makes you uncomfortable but I just liked you so much, and I didn’t know how to convey it properly so I just… I’m sorry, it was stupid”
He shifts like he is about to move away and Suguru quickly reaches out to grab his wrist, keeping him in place before sliding his free hand up the back of Satoru’s neck, touching the annoying scent patch hiding the bite mark in his unblemished skin.
“It’s okay” Suguru murmurs. “But next time, I think I’d prefer a simple dinner invite”
Satoru’s mouth drops open, forming a perfect ‘O’ as he gapes at Suguru. He’s silent for so long that Suguru almost worries something in his brain has broken, and when his lips finally move, it takes several tries until he’s able to properly form words.
“I… you really mean that?” he asks, as if the way Suguru holds him close, stroking his scent gland, isn’t enough of an answer.
Suguru smiles before leaning forwards, gently knocking their foreheads together.
“I do” he says earnestly. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Satoru”
Satoru exhales shakily before relaxing, as if weeks of tension have finally bled out of his body.
“And you’re not joking?” he asks, closing his eyes as Suguru gazes at him, his vision blurry at the close distance.
“I’m not joking”
“And it’s not another bet?”
“It’s not another bet”
“But… but you hate me”
Suguru laughs at that, feeling bold as he wraps his arms around Satoru, resting his hands on the small of his back.
“I don’t hate you” he says before pausing, pretending to think. “Well, you do annoy the living shit out of me on a daily basis”
Satoru punches Suguru’s shoulder weakly but he doesn’t withdraw his hand, letting it remain pressed against Suguru’s chest, right above the heart that’s erratically thump-thump-thumping under his touch.
“But I’m also obsessed with you” Suguru confesses, biting his lip before realising that he might as well go out with a bang. “You have no idea how many times I had to jerk off in the bathroom because of you”
Satoru leans back, staring at Suguru with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“Really?” he asks, a hint of hopefulness seeping into his voice, and Suguru nods in affirmation.
“Yeah” he says, too confident for someone who just admitted to jacking off on company property. “You drove me crazy every time you challenged me. I was so angry and horny and I wanted nothing but to pin you down and force you to submit”
No longer caring about where they are or whether his behaviour aligns with company policy, Suguru admits to the fantasies he’s been having, causing Satoru’s blush to deepen as he shudders in what Satoru hopes is delight mixed with a little bit of fear and indignance.
“But I also think you’re funny” Suguru mumbles. “And if you still want to, I’d like to go on a date with you and y’know, actually talk instead of just spewing insults”
Satoru makes a face at the playful jab before sighing, like he has been deeply inconvenienced.
“I guess we could do that” he says, like his tail wouldn’t be wagging so hard it tore down the entire office if he had one. Suguru grins without calling out Satoru’s bluff; there’s no need to. The way his chest is vibrating with purrs is enough proof of how he really feels.
Suddenly, a mischievous glint lights up in Satoru’s eyes and the corners of his lips lift into a smile.
“I bet you wouldn’t dare kissing me in the office”
Suguru’s grin widens and he tightens his hold on Satoru before yanking him closer, drawing a yelp out of Satoru.
“Bring it on”