Chapter Text
Tendō Satori didn't need more reasons to be bullied. He was already "weird" and "ugly" and "frustrating" to deal and play with. He already got called names and mocked at every chance.
And then he presented as an Alpha.
It wasn't exactly surprising. He was tall and strong and could pick up people's pheromones rather well. It was a bit of a relief, actually—the idea that he could defend himself from now on.
Maybe that was what scared the other kids so much.
Maybe that was why they pinned him down after practice and raped him one after another until he was thoroughly bitched.
Just presented, and now he was a dirty Omega.
The lowest kind: A bitched Alpha.
Satori cried about it for maybe the entire five minutes it took him to get dressed again. After all, it really had been too good to be true. His mother cried about it for maybe a month straight. His father was furious.
"How could you let this happen?! Why didn't you fight back?"
"It was five of them, I'm only one Omega."
It enraged him. "You weren't an Omega back then!" And "Who were they? I'm solving this myself."
He never told on them.
Being bitched right after he presented, though painful and heartbreaking, did have an advantage—all of the Alpha traits he was looking forward to never really developed further. Sure, his dick was bigger than a born-Omega's should be, and it had a pathetic little knot that inflated like a balloon whenever he got excited, but neither the knot nor his fangs—the ones he was supposed to use one day to claim an Omega as his mate—ever grew big enough to be noticeable. His scent also changed. It still had that spicy edge of peppermint, and the low note of bonfire that had been described as deeply soothing, but now it was all drowned by the cloyingly sweet smell of simple syrup.
It stunted him, too.
He was still taller than most Omegas—hell, than most Betas—but instead of his muscles growing wide and solid, he stayed lithe and struggled to gain muscle tone more than the Alphas. Still, he wasn't a bitched Alpha like the ones they showed on TV. The ones that looked like mighty Alphas but could be made to obey a command. The ones whose scents had been knocked down into a mockery of Omega sweetness.
Satori really didn't need more reasons to be bullied, but once he was bitched it only seemed to get worse.
"Gross bitch, at least Omegas are cute!"
"Ew, don't touch me, you bitched Alpha! I don't want to be bitched too!"
"Omegas like you die sad and alone. Alphas don't go near them."
And, well... it hurt.
A lot.
Mostly the heats.
Especially the heats.
Bitched Alphas' estrous cycles tended to be, for lack of a better word, a complete mess. They were often frequent and irregular, and there were little to no signs of a preheat, so they often snuck up on him. And it caused troubles.
"Ewww, I can't believe he showed up on the first day of his heat!"
"He really wants an Alpha's attention, doesn't he? Like it would work with a scent as disgusting as his."
"I know right? I want to throw up!"
They'd whisper on days when his heat started right in the middle of kanji class.
As if kanji really were that exciting.
At least he still has his dog.
His mother got the family a dog right after he got bitched. She didn't say it, but Satori knew it was so he wouldn't be so lonely. After all, he had never had many friends, and now he had been... well, fuck it, he had been raped. Violently so.
And it still woke him up screaming and crying even six months after it had happened.
At least now Tama climbed onto the futon with him and slept on top of him.
Sometimes Satori wondered if this would be the night his great dane suffocated him in his sleep.
Would that really be all that bad?
He's at the park one day, letting his dog run and spend a little of his lots of energy while he himself sits on the grass, keeping an eye on it. Despite being a restless child, running around so much does require him to take breaks in order to let his sore legs rest.
"Wow that's a biiiig dog! Is it yours?" It's one of the kids from the club, and Satori flinches at the voice.
It's one of the kids who bitched him. Raped him.
"Yeah! He's a Great Dane! He's still a pup though, he'll get even bigger!" He smiles, because well, he's tired of being a target. Maybe they can be friends now, maybe they'll think his dog is cool and he's cool and—
And then the kid smirks and pets the dog. "You better be reeeal nice to him. His knot is the only one you're getting, Bitch." And runs away while laughing with his friends.
At first he's so shell shocked he doesn't know how to process it. He stands there in disbelief and tries to laugh it off but he's shaken. Why would he fuck his doggie? He's just a pup! And what if he's an Omega too?
But it's after a bunch of ill-timed heats and estrous cycles that are more painful and irregular than born Omega's cycles, and after one too many painful rejections from Alphas who are "sorry, but they only like real Omegas" that he finds himself sobbing with his cheek pressed to the pillow while his dog mounts him. And maybe now he's done it, now he really is too gross for an Alpha. No one's gonna want to touch an Omega so gross and desperate that he'll settle for dog knot .
He sobs and cries and bites the pillow while working on his cock and Tama drools and bites at the back of his neck to keep him still.
"W-Wakatoshi... uhn, ah, Se-Semi," he moans, and a wave of disgust makes him nauseous. His best friend, and his volleyball kōhai. Both of which would be revulsed with him if they knew, not to mention Semi is a Beta. A well endowed one, but a Beta nonetheless.
He's sure that if the Karasuno Normal-Guy could see him with his ass up for a dog he'd have even more reasons to laugh in his face. Hell, everyone would.
If his old bullies knew they were right, that he'd let a dog fuck him to get off and pass his heats, and worse of all that it would work, his just-bitched self would probably die on the spot in embarrassment and shame.
But he still moans and arches his back, all pretty for his dog.
Dogs, it turns out, are far too quick when fucking, and their knots last way too long locked inside him, but it's better than nothing and it gives him time to wallow in disgust while waiting.
He'd probably get kicked out of the team. It's bad enough that he's the only Omega (not even a real Omega—a bitched Alpha) in the Shiratorizawa team, or that he has to change in the same little room as all of those hormonal, energetic Alphas every day of the week, but now he's a filthy dog fucker.
Hell, he'd probably get kicked out of the school.
But it's fine, right? After all, no Alpha would ever pick him as a mate, career or no career.
...Maybe that's all the reason he needs to keep studying, actually.
"Hey Tama, do you like being an Alpha? I know dogs don't really have this stupid system but... you're more of an Alpha than I am," he wonders idly.
The dog doesn't answer, dogs don't talk, so Satori just lies down on his forearms and sighs. It must be nice not having to worry about classmates and getting along with them.
His parents never neutered the dog, which is helpful and very convenient. He sometimes wonders if they know. If they also think he's disgusting and gross… But they already do, without knowing the dogfucking part of his whole ordeal.
Satori Tendō, at 18, watches as his Alpha teammates change into their jerseys and preens with happiness whenever they inadvertently flex and stretch their muscles. The room stinks of hormones, even with their rut suppressant. Alphas tend to release pheromones when they're around each other as a show of dominance. They're too young, but they all want to be pack leader, even if their pack has no proper Omegas to wife and breed.
He hopes they'll snap and rape him.
He prays and wishes for it.
Sure, it was traumatic and distressing when he was a kid...
...But it was the last time another person touched him.
Maybe now that he produces slick and has heats it'll actually feel good. Maybe he'll feel more like a person if an Alpha deems him worthy of coming in contact with.
And well, his teammates aren't ugly.
All of his daydreaming culminates with him showing up to practice on the first day of his heat. He didn't plan it—can't really plan around an irregular heat that never shows signs of coming—but he wasn't about to waste an opportunity when it nestled in his arms.
The chatter in the room dies as soon as he walks in and Shirabu slaps a hand over his mouth and nose, stopping whatever it was he was saying mid-word. Wakatoshi turns around slowly, glaring down at him and covering his nose with the collar of his jersey.
The rest of the team is openly staring.
He hopes no one will stop Goshiki, the youngest Alpha, when he pounces. He already looks murderous—feral almost. It occurs to Satori that it's probably the first time he's even smelled an Omega in heat.
Instead, Semi grabs his shoulder. "Tendō-san, you should leave."
Semi is kind like that, offers to walk Satori to his room, to stave away any stray Alpha and explain everything to the coach later.
"My heat snuck up on me this morning. I didn't realize I smelled that strongly," he lies, a fake upbeat tone covering his crushing disappointment while they walk back.
Semi stays silent for a long time, grits his teeth, then flicks his eyes up at him.
"Tendō, I can smell your pheromones. You have very bad heats, don't you?"
"Well, I was—"
"Bitched, I know." Satori feels his chest squeeze painfully at the quick way Semi spits it out. He doesn't want to say it either, it seems, by the way his expression sours. "That's why your cycle is irregular."
There's a long pause, and then Satori looks down meekly. "What do I smell like? It must be very bad, like trash or rotten meat or..." or dog.
Semi scratches the back of his head. "You smell fine. I mean, I'm probably missing a lot of the nuances Alphas can catch but," he sighs, rubs his face, then stops dead in his tracks. Satori stops too, before being pulled in by the arm and getting Semi's face buried into the crook of his neck. One long whiff, and then he pulls back with a frown. "Like peppermint, like an Alpha, but dampened, sweetened. It's kinda cloying, the two scents overlapped. Heady. And uh, like really bad heats. What have you been doing during your heats? You don't have an Alpha, right? You smell really dissatisfied."
Satori stares at him for a long moment before slapping his hand over his scent gland, letting out a loud and obnoxious laugh and resuming the walk.
"You think Alphas like bitched Omegas, SemiSemi? I'm curious." There's no answer. Semi is now walking beside him with a conflicted expression. "You know, I kinda wish I was born a Beta instead."
Semi rolls his eyes. "Don't say that."
"I wish they had just killed me instead!" He chirps, no emotion ever betraying the playful lilt of his voice.
"Ok, I get it. You can't just go ahead and show up to practice in your heat, though. You could've gotten hurt... In the locker room or on the way there."
"I can't be double-bitched though." He shrugs.
Semi falls silent, and even through his meager Beta hormones, Satori can smell apprehension in his next words. "Is that... what you want?"
"Why do you ask?"
Semi glances up at him and then falters, like he's biting his tongue. "You're crying."
Satori brings up the hand clamping down his scent gland to instead rub his eyes dry. He laughs way too loud, and it cracks and breaks into a sob instead. He bows down, ashamed when his body refuses to stop shaking, painful sobs fighting their way out of his throat.
And then he's pulled into a stiff, awkward hug. He can hear the fast beating of Semi's heart and it throws him for a loop.
Semi is touching him.
In public.
He's risking being seen hugging a bitched Alpha and all because Satori is a mess.
So he pushes away. Tries to, but even a Beta is stronger than a crying Omega in heat, it seems.
"I'll go to my dorm alone, you can go back to practice before Shirabu— b-before," He hiccups, but Semi places a large setter hand on his back and pushes him forward.
"I said I was walking you to your dorm. I guess even bitched Alphas don't want to be seen with a Beta, but I can't let you go alone" —He gestures up and down Satori's shaking frame— "Like this."
It's hard to shake Semi off his trail for the following weeks. And worse of all, the entire team seems to be cautious around him. He's not just a bitched Alpha to them anymore—a lesser Beta—he's an Omega now. He goes on heats and begs for knots with his scent alone. "Gross," and, "disgusting" are never said out loud, but he can feel it from the way they hold their breaths whenever they're near him.
He doesn't even go home to see his dog. He doesn't even deserve the filthy knot anymore. Not after trying to get his team to...
It weighs heavy in his conscience, deep in his guts.
How could he have been foolish enough to think anyone would want to taint themselves by touching him?
Every time he thinks of Semi he feels especially nauseous. Would the setter have hugged him if he knew? Surely, if Semi was aware Satori has moaned his name while having his ass stuffed full of dog he would've been the first one to shove him away in disgust. The idea alone makes his eyes sting.
And after that, the nightmares are back.
He wakes up in a cold sweat, paces around the dorm to distract his brain, knowing that if he goes back to bed he'll just re-enter the realm of his teammates saying everything Satori thinks about himself.
His roommate finds the early morning activity annoying, but he also says that Satori does in fact cry while asleep. And he has to study for college applications, so the headmaster is kind enough to relocate him. One or two phone calls later, Satori’s mother suggests the family dog play the part of a therapy animal. The headmaster probably wants to be able to shrug and say “at least we tried,” at some point in the future, because he easily concedes the arrangement.
It works for a while. Having the extra responsibility of looking after his dog and childhood friend gives Satori a sense of meaning beyond good grades and staying afloat in the club.
There's rumors about the bitched Alpha that is allowed to keep a dog on campus to keep nightmares at bay.
"Maybe I should say I have nightmares too so they'll let me bring my cat."
"It's a big dog, too."
"Wouldn't he be better off helping out with the equines?"
He worries the whispers will turn dark and twisted. He worries they'll be right.
And then, not two months later, his heat hits him again.
He begs the nurse to be put on suppressants, even if it means getting poked with a big needle, he doesn't care. But he's not mated and suppressants seldom work on Alpha-born-Omegas. That's the whole point of bitching after all; to provide the colony with strong Omegas that are fertile and will help keep the lineage during crises. Satori knows, and he also knows of the countless political figures that got bitched instead of killed as a punishment for their wrongdoings during their rulings. He finds it slightly hysterical to think that a 10 year old deserved the same level of punishment as a murderous monarch or dictator.
He also goes back to his dorm and stares at the ceiling for a few hours until his entire body feels numb.
He should nest, it's a thing that his internal Omega screams, and yet his limbs are numb. Sleep falls on him like a heavy curtain, and when he wakes up it’s with a fever and severe body pain.
He really should've nested.
He whines and cries as he tries to yank his pants off. Hot slick has already dampened all the way down to the back of his knees. It feels both scalding hot and freezing. His hands and entire body shake with cold.
It's a nice day outside.
The sun is much too bright.
He should've closed the blinds.
When he finally gets to kick off his pants and socks to the floor, and his soaked underwear is thrown off somewhere at the foot of the bed, he takes a moment to curl up and howl at the stiffening pain in his joints. Tama is already licking his face and pawing at his side, nuzzling his scent gland despite dogs "not perceiving human pheromones the same". Satori sniffles and weakly tries to push him away. He feels like a bad owner, but isn't he already the worst?
Two fingers are already inside his slicked up hole, but it's not even near a stretch he'd consider teasing. The angle and the swollen joints make him wonder if this is what carpal tunnel feels like. And then the door opens. The dog pitter patters away from the bed and whines at the newcomer. There's the crinkle of plastic somewhere in the room and then a conflicted, "Hey, big boy," from a voice Satori really doesn't want to hear right now.
There's a little scuffle, something hits the wall. "Hey, you're gonna make me lose my balance!"
"Tama," Satori sniffles, "Down. Bad dog." His voice quakes pathetically, and he's still fully exposed with three fingers up his ass. There's bile rising up his throat and Satori isn't sure whether it's from the heat or shame.
The dog runs to him again, licking the sweat off his face and scoffing at him.
"So… The nurse told us you got your heat again and had to miss practice," Semi starts, the clinking of glass is mortifying. "And I'm the only Beta in the team, so..."
Satori doesn't need to be told.
They both know.
"You don't have to," he croaks, "Just tell the coach I'm sleeping."
Semi scoffs. Satori can almost feel the roll of his eyes. "I've taken care of my sister and my mom before, and my roommate is a recessive Omega too, so just shut up and let me." Semi turns him around, presses a wet rag to his forehead and eyes him up and down, then frowns. "Isn't it too soon?"
Satori whines.
It is.
It really fucking is.
"Did you see the nurse?"
"It's just stress."
"Must be really bad fucking stress if it gives you two full-strength heats in a row that are less than six months apart."
Satori shivers. The rag is nice and cold, but now his entire body is shaking like a leaf.
At least Semi is nice enough to close the blinds. "Where are your... uh... tools?"
Right there, Satori thinks, following you around and sniffing your pant legs. "I don't— I don't have any," He pants instead.
Semi turns around and stares at him with wide eyes. He's horrified, no doubt. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water before he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Why not!?"
"I... I always spend my heats at home."
"Not the last two, you haven't." He points out, eyes sharp and an accusatory squint directed at him. "Do you have a mate?"
"Nope."
"I mean for real, Tendō. Do you get help from anyone?"
"N...o... not really."
There's a pause. Semi's eyes bounce around the room and then his brow furrows further. "Where's your nest?"
"You're looking at it."
"God's sake, Tendō," he mutters, pulling off his cardigan and tie and tossing them on the bed, before rummaging his bag and taking out two—three different jerseys.
Satori recognizes the scents the moment the zipper is pulled open.
Bamboo, the ocean, freshly cut grass.
Wakatoshi, Reon, Yamagata.
"I couldn't convince Goshiki to part with anything. Taichi said he'll bring you something later but like hell I'm letting him in." Semi rolls his eyes, wetting Shirabu's chilly morning fog scented tie and replacing the rag on his forehead with it. He arranges the jerseys and sheets in a way Satori had never even considered for a nest. "I also brought you a hot water bottle but I think I'm going to fill it with ice instead... and, um, I don't know how you like your nests, but" —he makes a defeated hand gesture— "That's how my sister likes it. You can fix it once you gain some strength. Are you hungry?"
"You don't have to do this," Satori mumbles, because if he speaks any louder his voice might crack and crumble with the tears he's holding back.
"Shut up. Are you hungry?"
Satori finally laughs, softly at first, hysterically then. "Sh-shut up, but then you ask another question!" He cackles, and all of his ribs and vertebrae hurt, but somehow he finds it funnier than he should.
"It was the same question," Semi mumbles, looking through his bag and pulling out a white bento box.
"No, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just..." Satori gnaws at his lip. Being surrounded by the smell of his Alpha teammates, and Semi's clothes tucked securely under his arm, though soothing, are starting to really affect his slick production and his need to be knotted.
Semi doesn't care. He sits on the bed, careful not to move the oddly constructed nest and stares at the way Satori is hugging his jacket. He doesn't comment on it, god bless him, but he looks down at the box. "When did you last eat?" Satori decides it's his turn to stay quiet. "You need energy if you want to get through this heat quickly," he scolds, and for a moment he sounds too much like an adult who knows what he's talking about instead of a kid who's probably overheard it a hundred times. "It's just rice and boiled eggs. I can't cook for shit."
Semi pulls him into a sitting position, and then fixes the pillow behind his back. He hands Satori the box and a pair of chopsticks. "Eat." He commands with a severe expression on his face.
For a second, Satori wonders if Semi isn't a recessive Alpha instead, because it causes him to swallow thickly and his hands to clam up and shake with effort.
Maybe he's dizzy.
The rice is delicious anyway, or Satori was really too hungry. Semi has to keep pushing Tama away from the bed, and then he cleans up the stray grains of rice Satori dropped on the sheets.
He looks much more relaxed now that he's gotten his friend to stop being a child. He sighs and gathers the empty bento box, then restlessly looks around the room and nods to himself. “I’m going to go get Taichi’s shirt before he tries to break in, you know how Alphas are,” he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while running his fingers over the strap of his bag a couple times. “And uh, maybe steal Goshiki's practice shirt." He nods, and then pets the dog on the head and leaves. The bang of the door closing echoes through the now unbearably silent room.
Satori blinks once and then once more.
Ah. Privacy.
So Semi really isn't interested in watching him trying to get off. Thank god. No one would want to watch that.
Despite the nausea and the shame of being taken care of like a child, Semi's food does give him back enough energy to move to the edge of the bed, feet hanging off while he lies on his elbows and knees.
He whistles, and the dog's ears come to full attention. It doesn't take much coaxing; Tama knows what to do.
He shivers and whines when the long and wet tongue starts lapping at the abundant slick greasing up his thighs, and then the cold nose breathes out puffs of air directly into his hole. The bed creaks for a moment, and then there's a heavy weight on his back, knocking him flat onto his face. It takes the dog three attempts to line up and push in, but he's too big and heavy for Satori to help. He pulls one of the jerseys to muffle himself.
No, not Reon's. Not Yamagata’s, either.
He can't moan his teammates' names at school. Not if he doesn't want to be overheard and tarnish their reputation when people start talking about it to their friends—but Semi's cardigan, ripe with the stink of synthetic pheromone boosters that don't quite match, but do approximate his natural scent of pine needles and autumn evenings, is already much better than what he does when alone at home.
He takes a deep breath, and it's enough to make him moan long and needy when his dick twitches in response. He calls forth the feel of Semi's hand on his shoulder and forehead and the feeling of being held awkwardly and stiffly the last time Satori cried in front of him. The sound of his fast heartbeat drumming in Satori's ear. Semi is much shorter than him. Almost half a head, but he's solid. Stronger than Satori himself.
Tama, on the other hand, is too big and heavy (and stinky) to make a good mate. More than once, Satori feared he'd break a rib or bruise a cervical from bracing the full weight and strength of the dog. He moans, though, biting down on the white fabric and working a shaky hand over his dick, squeezing tightly around the knot that has started swelling around the base.
He hates it.
He wonders if Semi has a knot too, or if, along with his other Alpha-like traits, it’s missing.
Come to think about it, Semi has never acted like other Betas with the Alpha gene. Maybe he has the Omega one? Alpha Betas tend to play up their aggressiveness, to “compensate" for not being true Alphas, or so the Omegas say on social media. Semi only ever gets domineering over younger Alphas like Shirabu, but only because he's the senpai, or at least that's what Satori thinks.
On the other hand, Semi is a good caregiver even if he does have a short fuse.
But does he have a knot? Could he breed Satori if it ever came down to it?
Bitched Alphas are extremely fertile, they make good surrogates, and it isn't unheard of for Alphas to get bitched as a last ditch attempt to get children when their born-Omega partner can't. They still get the side eye, but at least those bitched Alphas are somewhat respected. Betas on the other hand, are a toss. They're not particularly fertile, nor particularly good at getting Omegas pregnant. In ancient packs, their place was to look after Omega pups, and sick members of the group.
Something or other. Satori isn't great at history.
Dogs can never impregnate an Omega, though, that's for sure. No matter how hot and sticky their cum, no matter how big and leak-proof their knot.
And right now, Satori's entire Omega is screaming and begging to be bred.
He doesn't want children, he's never thought of having a pack, but whenever his heat happens, he wants nothing more than for an Alpha to take pity on him and make him useful for something.
And then the door opens.
His brain barely has energy to register it amidst the fog of his pheromone-laden mind, but as soon as it clicks that someone else is in the room—cursing at Alphas, no less—he openly bawls.
"I got Taichi's jersey but he almost—"
A long, tense pause.
"Oh."
"I'm- I'm kind s-stuck here," Satori laughs breathlessly. His voice sticks at the edges with tears, and he sniffles, "Can you help me?"
"...How?"
"Get him off... of me."
Another silence. Then, "How?"
Satori huffs, burying his face down in Semi's cardigan. His Omega knows he's being stared at; can feel it on the nape of his neck. It's one of those things that made getting bitched that much more unbearable—knowing when he was getting stared at. Omegas know, because both Alphas and Betas will look at them, especially during heats, and he can feel the judgement weighing heavier than his 80kg dog.
He waits and waits for the sound of the door closing again.
It never comes.
There's a push on his side. Tama grabs tighter onto his thighs and growls, deep and rumbly and it reverberates through Satori's entire being. Another push, and then Tama growls even more aggressively. There's a yelp and a hiss of, "Fucking hell," before Semi sits on the bed instead.
"D-did he bite you?"
"Almost. He's heavy."
"Yeah," Satori breathes out a laugh, and then the air is knocked out of him again. "Hmph—kinda." Semi scoffs, and then Satori watches as he reaches out towards the dog again. "Wait! No, no! Just let him! He's almost done anyways—probably. He's gonna bite you for real, hnn—" instead, Tama scrapes at the back of Satori's neck with his teeth to keep the Omega still.
Semi lets out a shocked squeak, but Satori croaks out an, "I'm fine," and then whines quietly as Tama's cum pours down and deep, deep into him. Then the knot. Then the dog turns.
Satori breathes deeply now that the dog is not crushing his lungs, tries and fails to catch his breath.
"Is this the first time... your dog has done that?" Semi asks, eyes affixed on the panting animal.
Satori thinks that question is too personal to answer.
"Do you like it?"
"What?!" Satori squawks, clutching Semi's cardigan closer to his burning face.
Semi's eyes flick to him and linger on the garment. He looks conflicted—has every right to be disgusted. "You're purring."
Satori's breath hitches. He has no control over it, but he wishes it could stop.
"A little," Semi hisses.
And then Semi cards his fingers through Satori's sweaty hair—a gesture so gentle it causes him to flinch.
"How long does it take for the knot to go down?"
"I dunno," he lies. But he does. Half an hour, at the minimum. Oftentimes more.
Semi says nothing then. Satori half wishes he'll just leave and never talk to him again. He's still painfully hard, but somehow touching himself is too embarrassing now that there's a pair of brown eyes burning deep into him.
"Does it hurt?"
Satori glances up and freezes. He's never seen Semi look so... hungry.
The intensity in his eyes is a stark contrast with the fingers still delicately scratching Satori's scalp. Satori is so engulfed in this hungry, almost feral look, that it doesn't register how strange the question is.
Semi wasn't born to be a Beta, he thinks idly.
He swallows twice, and Semi's eyes trace his throat in a way that feels dangerous when they brush the spot where his scent gland should be.
"The... what?"
Semi's eyes snap back to his. For a long, unbearable moment, they just stare deep into him, before they drag slowly over his entire body. When did Satori start shaking?
And then Semi releases a shuddering breath. It's soft enough to leave Satori dizzy wondering if he actually heard right. He's not sure. There's a low ringing in his ears and the pounding of blood following his fast heartbeat.
He should be embarrassed.
Why is he so hard?
His eyes jump to the motion of Semi's hands tightening over the fabric of his uniform trousers. Satori traces over every single white knuckle and then the swell of stressed veins rising proud over the tendons.
He turns away, pressing his forehead down on the cardigan and shuddering when a whiny whimper bypasses his throat. Satori can't help it when his fingers work slowly on the hard flesh of his erection. He knows Semi can see it well, but he still wants to be as uselessly discreet as possible.
"Do you like it when it hurts?" Semi breathes out, and his voice has a much deeper, darker tone than it normally has. Satori’s nerves are buzzing. It causes the hair on his arms and nape to stand on end. His body quakes and ripples when he comes in his hand. The strangled scream tethering between mind-numbing pleasure and horrifying shame would've been embarrassing if his brain had ten percent more power.
Does it hurt ? Does he like it when it hurts? And even worse; does he like it when he's so ashamed and embarrassed that his skin burns from the inside?
His breath stutters when he jerkily raises his head to meet Semi's dark eyes.
"I love it."
Looking at it objectively, it's probably the way his brain rewired all of those negative feelings as a survival technique.
When he was younger he hated being told he was weird or creepy, or gross and nasty. He hated having people refuse to play with him.
He definitely hated being stared at.
Now he almost profited from it; he could keep nasty Alphas away from his kōhais since no one wanted to cross the Bitched Alpha; he danced around whenever their rivals were irked and annoyed at the court; he got off on Semi burning holes into his skull.
Semi's expression didn't change.
Over the next few days Satori avoided being caught with a dog's knot up his rear. As a courtesy. Semi still went to look after him before and after classes. Satori encouraged him to go to practice now that he was feeling better.
It meant he got a few good hours to himself.
The last day of his heat, he chances to show up to classes.
It's not the first time he's done it. By then the smell of pheromones is mostly leftovers clinging to his clothes and hair from spending a week locked in a room that was by all means pheromone bombed.
Some Alphas give him the side eye, but Satori doesn't care how Alphas feel about his scent.