Chapter Text
When he walks into practice, it's because he feels stiff and sore from laying down in bed getting off for several days. Semi doesn't look at him, but Shirabu and Taichi do, as well as Tsutomu, when he thinks no one will notice.
"Are you feeling better, Satori?" Reon asks once they've set the net.
"Good as new!" Satori wiggles side to side to prove his point.
Coach Washijō squints at him during warmups, and yells at him especially harshly whenever he misjudges a spike.
It's Coach Akira that gives him an earful after practice for his reckless actions the previous week—and for showing up while still reeking of heat. "It's an Omega's responsibility to monitor their heats," and "you should be thankful Washijō-san let you stay in the team; you're not an Alpha anymore."
Satori does little to mask his annoyance, but he still nods and bows respectfully whenever he thinks it's adequate.
He's not the only one who reeks, anyway.
☆
Once in the changing room, Satori feels lightheaded being surrounded by Alpha musk despite this being the tail end of his heat. There's a lot of sluggish chatter floating around—everyone is exhausted—but Satori can't shake the knowledge that there are eyes on him.
When he tunes in with his Omega, it immediately spits out the stare count back at him, and he almost falls back on his ass.
One.
Three.
Seven.
He gulps, and then raises his eyes to scan the room.
Zero.
"Are you feeling ok, Tendō? You did all of that still in your heat, right?" Hayato asks, curiously leaning into his field of vision. He gives a small sniff and Satori's skin crawls at the way the Alpha's eyes darken.
One.
"It's just the last day. I’ve played matches on the third day." He shrugs, and then a shiver runs down his spine like someone dropped an ice cube down his shirt.
Six.
Tsutomu scoffs. Muttering something about Omegas being inconvenient and demanding.
"You missed a lot of practice. Coach Washijō is not gonna be lenient with you." Shirabu states from somewhere in the room.
"I had to make up for it with extra practice when I unexpectedly went into a rut six months ago." Taichi grins at him, and suddenly Satori has the sense that he's not in on some joke. A sense of panic too familiar for his comfort bubbles up from the depths of his stomach. Something about his kōhai's smile brings him right back to his days of being bullied.
His eyes scramble to find Semi, who's idly sprinkling talcum inside his gym shoes before storing them in his bag.
Wakatoshi's words rumble heavily in the room. "It was nice of Semi to look after you."
Seven.
Satori crosses his arms over his naked chest and grips tightly at himself.
And then Semi stands up. "Don't compliment me so much." He shrugs. "It was my duty as the Beta. Just be thankful I've taken care of Omegas before." Satori cowers when Semi steps in front of him. The dark look from the day he got caught is back, and it causes a sort of tension to hang in the air like electricity waiting to zap someone. "Besides, having our regulars in top shape always takes priority."
There's a long silence. There are seven pairs of eyes on him.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Tendō-san."
"You're a great caregiver." Satori chirps.
Semi's eyes soften. "I'm just a Beta," and he smiles. "I wasn't the only one who wanted to take care of you, though, was I?"
Satori is confused at the question for about two seconds, and then Semi grabs him by the scruff of his neck and walks him forward until he's standing in the middle of the room.
Suddenly he's hit by a wall of pheromones he's never smelled before on his teammates.
He's so caught up trying to untangle the potpourri of smells surrounding him that he doesn't offer any resistance when Semi pushes him down on his knees, then down, down, until his hands are firmly planted on the floor. Semi pushes them apart to shoulder height, and then Satori stares down at his blurred out reflection on the polished wood.
Is the arousal weaved into the musk drenching the room his own?
He shivers when a large hand cups at the wet spot on the back of his shorts.
"Wha—"
"I think you knew when you showed up here," Shirabu says, voice cold and eyes sharp, "Semi was right, you didn't even wait for your heat to pass."
Satori's eyes jump up to the third year setter. He swallows thickly. Semi smirks down at him.
"You're lucky," he says, pulling Satori's shorts down to his knees. "I know Omegas inside and out."
His ears are burning so hot Satori fears he's gonna burst into flames. He looks down at the floor, lightheaded at the sudden crispness of the pheromones in the air.
A fat dollop of slick trickles down the inside of his thigh.
There's seven pairs of eyes on him. He feels like prey.
"I'll go first." Tsutomu presses forward. "I don't want to fuck anyone's cum into him."
Satori's arms nearly give out under him.
Fuck?
There's a tense silence and no one is looking at him.
Wakatoshi's voice is deep when he concedes. "Go ahead."
It's a miracle Satori manages to keep all his whines inside of him then.
Go ahead? What does he mean go ahead? Are they really planning on ganging up on him? Is Wakatoshi calling the shots? Did Semi plan all of this? Why is no one calling a teacher?
His dick twitches when his eyes meet Semi's. One second. And then the setter looks over to the first year. "Don't worry about hurting him; he'll be fine."
Tsutomu's shoulders square up, a sort of tenseness settling in his jaw. Satori can hear three people's breaths hitch—one is his.
And then Tomucchi walks out of his field of vision. Nothing happens for several painful seconds. He can hear the rustling of fabric, and then the warmth of a hand hovering too close against his hip, but never really landing on it. Taichi hurries him along, goading and poking fun at his Kōhai.
Satori feels the pressure against his cunt before hearing Tsutomu hiss a curse.
He doesn't stop at all before bottoming out, and both him and Satori release a shaky breath once it’s all the way in.
"So greedy," Hayato mutters. Satori isn't sure who he's talking to.
Shirabu is the one to scoff. "Does he even know how to use that thing?"
The first thrust knocks the air out of Satori's lungs.
It hurts.
The stretch stings despite having fingered himself that same morning, and Tsutomu is using Tendō the same way one would a fleshlight. The angle isn't all that comfortable, but when Satori drops his head down to almost touch the filthy floor, he can see his dick bouncing and drooling precum straight into the floor. He pants and whimpers along with Tsutomu's strained grunts. There will be bruises on Satori's hips; he can feel the first year's nails digging into his skin.
Tsutomu's growls become deeper the faster he pumps in and out. Satori can feel the weight on his back. He can carry it better than his dog's.
And then there's a pained cry, another growl. Tsutomu jolts backwards and motions still. Satori turns back as best as he can, and his breath catches in his throat.
Semi has a fist on Tomucchi's hair. His small Beta fangs are bared, but his growl is deep and rumbling.
If Satori didn't know better, he'd call it possessive.
"No. Biting."
Tsutomu makes an attempt to growl back, but the fist on his hair tightens.
"No biting," Wakatoshi echoes from the bench.
"You can't claim an Omega just like that," Reon reinforces, and then Taichi and Hayato laugh and poke fun at the youngest Alpha for trying to claim the first Omega he can get his hands on.
Once Tsutomu is released, Satori can feel them still glaring at each other just by the tension in the room.
It doesn't take Tsutomu very long to spill. Virgins are even quicker than dogs, it seems. But before he has a chance to pop a knot inside him, the Alpha is pulled back. It hurts to get a half-swollen knot yanked out, but after two breaths Satori feels less shaky.
"Ushijima-san?" Semi asks.
Their captain gets up from the bench, and Satori can't contain the shiver that runs through him when he catches a glimpse of the tent in his shorts.
Wakatoshi is the leader in their pseudo-pack for a reason.
He's huge—his mother an Alpha, his father a recessive—and his pheromones stink despite being both on rut and pheromone suppressants. That's an Alpha Prime, if Satori has ever seen one.
The idea of being taken by an Alpha like him makes Satori's skin tingle.
Semi kneels next to Satori, knocking his arms off from below his body, and pulling the Omega into his lap. He presses a hand on Satori's back, and runs it slowly all the way up to his shoulder blades, pushing down harshly so that there's a pretty arch on his back. Satori holds his ass up high. The stretch is almost uncomfortable.
Semi leans in to whisper in his ear. His breath tickles Satori in a way that has a stream of slick mixed with Tsutomu's cum dribbling out of him.
"Present yourself properly for our Alpha; this isn't a dog that's fucking you." Satori whines, long and needy as Semi straightens back up. "Hold still." He commands, and Satori's entire mind blanks. He can feel the command click and lock somewhere deep in the back of his mind.
He's about as stunned as the rest of the team.
"Semi can use commands?" Taichi whispers.
"On a Bitch, no less," Hayato adds with a low whistle. Satori's ears burn, but he can't push himself up no matter how hard he orders his arms to do so.
"He's a Beta," Shirabu cuts in, conflict evident in his voice alone. His scent backs up the confusion. "And Tendō is a Bitched Alpha, we just had a test about it!" He hisses, and it must be at Taichi, his classmate.
"It said Betas seldom can use commands, and Bitched Alphas can't take them from non-Alphas!"
"They can't!" Shirabu sounds almost distressed.
"Tendō never clocked me as submissive," Reon muses.
Satori loses the line of the conversation as Wakatoshi breaches him open. He cries out, pleasure and pain bleeding and blooming into each other in a way that makes his head spin. Wakatoshi pulls out slowly, the drag and weight of his cock enough to make Satori pant and shiver despite the command.
It feels strange. Wakatoshi must've taken the time to put on a condom, since his cock feels unnaturally smooth and slick. Cold, with almost the same texture of the nurse's latex gloves.
The head rests heavy in the entrance of his throbbing cunt, and before Satori has time to whine about the emptiness, he slams all the way back in. Satori chokes out a moan. And then another one as it happens again, and again.
The first time Satori had a knot inside him, it was painful enough to draw blood and tears. The next several times, he cried out of disgust with himself when it was over.
But now? Satori could burst with happiness at being taken by an Alpha.
A real Alpha.
Not a kid, and most definitely not a dog.
A Prime.
His sobs and moans melt together, and he can feel Wakatoshi's broad left hand gripping tightly at the joint on his hip. His rumbling groans and pleased pants make Satori's Omega sing and dance with happiness.
This one.
He wants to be bred by this one. Take off the stupid rubber. Make him useful. Fill him up.
"So noisy," Taichi clicks his tongue and moves to kneel next to Semi. They glare at each other for a few short seconds, but neither tries to out-dominate the other. "You're gonna make a teacher come check in, senpai." He grins ferociously, and then tugs at Satori's hair a little. "Up." Satori's body obeys before he has a chance to even look at Semi. The second year smirks smugly. He's an Alpha, after all. Of course his command would override a Beta's. "You wanted this, no? That's why you pheromone-bombed us last week." He pulls out his cock and presses the tip over Satori's lower lip, spreading precum over it and pulling it down with the weight alone. "You gotta put your money where your mouth is, senpai. Show us how much you wanted this."
Satori swallows and blinks up at him.
Semi doesn't interfere.
"Open up."
He does.
Taichi slides in with a pleased groan, his smug expression contorting as his eyelids drop and his lips tighten to keep himself quiet. Satori whines around the weight on his tongue. He can taste the salt from the practice's sweat. His breath shudders. He can almost taste the pheromones themselves. Satori takes a deep breath, drinking in the Alpha scent when Taichi slides in so deep Satori's nose is tickled by the unruly ginger curls dressing up his crotch. Taichi has a much spicier scent than other Alphas. A peppery-edge that can make people's eyes water whenever he's angry. Satori almost doesn't gag.
He chokes and tries to swallow back the spit in vain. It slides down his chin and neck. Some of it hangs in heavy strands and pools on Semi's shorts.
Taichi restricting his breath, drowning him with pheromones, and Wakatoshi fucking so deep into him, Satori can almost feel it bump into Taichi's cock leave him no space to think about Semi carefully brushing the tears clinging to his eyelashes. He coos and thrills at Satori, leaning in to nuzzle the shell of his ear. "You do like it when it hurts, don't you? Is Ushijima'-san's cock better than Tama's? Can he fuck you better than your dog?"
Satori cries out around Taichi's cock, who rewards him with a broken moan of his own and pulls back to let Satori breathe.
"Do you like Taichi-kun's cock? Have you ever tasted your dog's?"
Satori is so hard he worries one of the veins in his own dick is going to burst and kill him.
He cries out when Wakatoshi slams straight into the bundle of nerves that make him see stars, and he spills and splatters against the floor.
Taichi hisses a curse and slams deep into Satori's throat, bumping his nose hard enough Satori wonders if it will bleed. He then pulls out all the way, roughly fisting his dick before spilling all over Satori's face. His self-satisfied grin slides back onto Taichi's freckled face. Once Taichi has managed to wobble back to the bench, Hayato springs up and hurries over to where the main action is.
"Wait, me next! We really don't want a teacher hearing, do we?" He gauges Semi's expression, and Satori has time to gauge his cock. Hayato was jerking off while watching the show, and probably won't last that long, judging by the swell of his knot. He still grabs Satori by the hair and shoves his cock all the way in with one swift motion. Despite having been opened and warmed up by Taichi before, Satori gags and chokes around it.
Hayato's cock is much shorter than Taichi's—only the head slides into the spasming heat of his throat—but he's thicker, and fucks Satori's face with almost as much enthusiasm as Tsutomu. He's much more dexterous, though. His motions aren't jerky, and his brutal pace doesn't falter until Satori can see the tension on his abs and thighs.
"Wakatoshi, are you close?" Hayato struggles to ask. Wakatoshi seems to struggle to answer just as much, only giving a short affirmative grunt. "M’kay, cool."
Satori continues to gurgle and choke every time Hayato hits the back of his throat, drool and Taichi's cum splattering everywhere within shooting distance.
"Almost there," he hisses, whimpering when Semi encircles a hand around the base to prevent him from going too deep and knotting Satori's mouth. He continues to fuck into Semi's hand and Satori's mouth nonetheless. Satori is almost distracted enough with the feeling of Semi's fingers against his lips to notice when Hayato spills into his mouth.
Satori has no choice but to swallow it all down.
Once Hayato pulls back, Satori coughs and shudders. He can finally process the smell of his teammate's scent, and it leaves him wanting to bury his nose right back into the slicked up curls at the base of his cock. His scent is mingled with some of Taichi's, because of the cum clinging to the coarse hairs in globs. He smells like fresh grass. Refreshing in a way his clouded mind somewhat appreciates.
He can feel Wakatoshi's hair tickling the back of his head with every wind-knocking thrust. The Alpha's weight is oppressive, and the way his muscular forearm is pressed all the way across Satori's shoulder blades further constricts his breathing and leaves Satori's arms shaking with the effort not to collapse into Semi's lap again. His large right fist rests heavily atop of Satori's left shoulder while the other hand dimples the skin of his hip, fingers painfully digging in to where he can feel Wakatoshi's blunt nails leaving half moons like branding. If he can't be claimed then this is probably the next best thing.
Satori can feel the rumbles of muffled pants and grunts against his back, and knows Wakatoshi can feel Satori's content purring against his broad chest.
And then Wakatoshi pulls out. Satori openly whimpers at the loss.
Hayato scoots aside and falls on his ass, eagerly watching as their captain carefully peels back the condom and his knot swells at the base when the thick band of rubber stops compressing it. He keeps a firm hold on it, and then his free hand takes Satori's face between callused fingers. His thumb and index dig harshly on the hollow of Satori's cheeks, forcing his mouth open, and then slides his thumb inside. Satori sucks on instinct, wide eyes never leaving the Alpha's.
Wakatoshi's eyes are dark, impassive except for the way his pupil betrays his arousal with its sheer size.
His neck is tense, and finally he pulls his digit back and replaces it with the head of his cock. "Swallow." He commands, and then a gush of hot and sticky cum pours right into his mouth.
Satori drinks it down feverishly, every single drop lest he wastes any of the precious liquid.
He's a good Bitch. He can be a good Omega. Everyone is being so nice taking care of him; he wants to show them how thankful he is.
So when Wakatoshi is over, Satori swipes his tongue over his lips to collect anything that might've dribbled through the seams. He can taste both of the other Alphas that used his mouth as well, and the mix of flavors and pheromones is almost revolutionary.
Semi reaches toward the bench, and Shirabu passes him a wet towel with his free hand. The other is dipped below the waistband of Reon's shorts. This probably the first time he's seen the second year servicing any of his senpai, Satori realizes, outside of when they're on the court.
Tsutomu is angrily pumping his cock while leaning onto Shirabu, eyes screwed shut and bottom lip drawn tightly between his teeth—young alphas have energy like that. The older one seems annoyed by this, but makes no efforts to push him away.
Satori's attention diverges when Semi gently towels his face dry, pushing and pulling him into a more comfortable sitting position. He doesn't say a word, even though he looks like he wants to.
Shirabu pushes himself off the bench and walks over. Reon doesn't so much as whimper. He's busy tending to a bleeding bite on Ushijima's right forearm.
The second year setter takes his time peeling back the training shirt and handing it to Semi. He pushes Satori back so his ass is flat on the floor, hands outstretched behind his back to keep balance, and then presses the ball of his foot over Satori's flagging erection. Satori scrambles to grasp at his kōhai's leg and presses his forehead against the boy's knee with a choked off whine.
"You haven't fucked the dog yourself, have you?" He scowls.
Which is more agonizing; physical pain or being humiliated in front of people he respects?
Satori's mind is busy trying to puzzle what about this entire situation is so exhilarating. There are a million questions rushing through his mind. Did Semi tell them about Tama? burns almost like a neon sign, is that why they agreed?
Shirabu clicks his tongue, pressing down harder before stepping back to peel off his compression shorts. Satori's mouth waters at the sight, the smell, and the tantalizing shine of slick sliding down the boy’s inner thighs.
Shirabu might not have a knot, but he's still as Alpha as everyone else.
So when Shirabu pulls him forward by the nape and mutters an inexpressive, "Eat up," Satori is elated to press his tongue flat over the swollen clit and slowly drag it across the wet folds, tasting every nook before dipping right into the center. Nimble fingers tighten around his hair when he pulls back to suck at the nub and slip a finger inside his kōhai. Shirabu's measured breaths shake when Satori curls his finger in to rub the pad on the ribbed wall of flesh behind his clit.
"Ah- mm, harder," Shirabu orders, pulling at Satori's hair so hard, the Omega fears he'll have two bald spots to worry about for the next several months.
So he slips in a second finger and drags them even harder, until he can read every groove of muscle like it's braille. He fucks his tongue in and out along with his fingers, peppering little bites and hickeys along Shirabu's groin and inner thighs whenever he needs to give his jaw a break from sucking, lapping and slurping the ambrosial fluid. He can feel Shirabu's muscles tense and swell around his fingers. It makes it difficult to move them and he relishes the way the Alpha fails to hold himself together under his ministrations.
Maybe he is a good Bitch, if he can pleasure even the more unreadable of Alphas until he's panting and moaning cries of, "Tendō- ah-uhn, senpai-"
It fills him with a pride he didn't know existed.
And then he feels the walls clamp around his fingers, Shirabu's thighs fighting against Satori's head close, so he hooks one of the boy's knees over his shoulder to keep him open, and redoubles his efforts to bring the Alpha to climax.
When Shirabu comes, it's with a strange choked-off gurgle, squirting all over Satori's face and half-collapsing over his senpai in a way that tests his cervical strength.
It takes him a few seconds to regain enough energy to step back in shaking legs and glare around the room.
"I'm not done," he barks, and if everyone holds their breath in anticipation, Satori doesn't blame them. He himself has a full body shiver when the second year's fingers move between his legs to spread his lips open, gifting Satori with the perfect view of the flushed walls shiny with saliva and come, and rhythmically clenching around nothing, like breathing—like pleading.
Satori desperately wants to get his mouth on it again. To taste the almost sweet slick and be engulfed by the intoxicating pheromones of the younger Alpha when he nuzzles the carefully groomed tuft of hair at his groin.
Instead, Shirabu falls to his knees in a way that sounds all but painful, considering the boy isn't in the habit of wearing knee pads.
"Can Tendō bitch an-"
"No," Shirabu snaps, holding his hand out toward the bench until Reon places a small foil on it.
Shirabu tears it open with no hesitation, and then rolls the condom over Satori's aching limb.
The compression around the knot is slightly uncomfortable, but not distracting enough to make him want to tap out. Not when it means he gets to have his Kōhai hold firmly onto Satori’s shoulder with one hand while spreading himself open with the other. They share a hiss and a sigh as the Alpha slowly presses down all the way to the base, only stopping once to stare at the ceiling while his muscles relax enough to continue.
The pace starts brutal. Shirabu's brow creased in concentration while he bounces up and down on Satori's dick, mouth cracked open slightly. The hot puffs of air hit Satori's moist skin and leave shivers and goosebumps on its wake.
Satori can't stop himself from staring, admiring Shirabu's dewy skin and the way his bangs start to stick against his sweaty forehead. He didn't have the luxury of seeing the other Alpha's expressions slowly fall apart and unravel while using him, and now he fears he just can't get enough.
His hands find Shirabu's quaking thighs, and he helps his kōhai raise higher and slam harder onto his cock. Strong fingers dimple supple skin, and Satori can feel the solid muscles shifting under his grasp. Shirabu wraps his arms under Satori's, pulling himself closer and altering the angle on which he bounces. He seems to like it better, judging by the breathy moans and the way his blunt nails drag across Satori's shoulder blades. Skin sticks to skin, and the brush of peaked nipples against Satori's goosebump-covered chest is almost distracting.
Satori can feel Shirabu's heart hammering against his chest, close to perfectly on time with his own, and the intimacy is nearly too much—too raw. Especially with so many pairs of eyes completely enthralled with their exhibition. He shivers and shudders when the Alpha gives a long lick along the column of his neck. Satori gasps like he’s drowning, and he might as well be.
Suddenly there's a large hand clasping his scent gland, and Semi's low rumble just behind his ear.
Shirabu tries to growl back through his ragged panting—two short, breathless groans that almost sound like purring, and then he jerks back, eyes wide with a shock Satori has never seen on his kōhai. He looks positively horrified with himself. It occurs to Satori that an Alpha of his status is probably not used to losing control like that—not to others, and not to himself.
Still, Satori's Omega is fixated on the task of pleasing his Alphas. So he chases forward, sealing his mouth over the boy's perky nipple. Satori presses his tongue over the pebbled skin, grazes his teeth over the most sensitive part and then sucks. The way Shirabu shudders and cries out for his senpai is intoxicating. Delicious. Stirring something deep in Satori's guts he wasn't even aware of, but will not be able to forget.
When Shirabu's motions still, and Satori has no energy to roll his hips under the weight, the boy stays over him for about thirty seconds exactly, leaning his forehead over Semi's hand on his shoulder and breathing hard against Satori's skin.
Satori pants over Shirabu's shoulder too, eyes unfocused and mind hazy from the pheromones and pleasure clogging it.
Shirabu finally gets up, no help needed but his own willpower. He stumbles over to the bench while Semi fusses over Satori, checking for any bites and drying the sweat and blood off of the small scratches on the back of his neck and on his shoulders. Satori pulls out a wiry hair that tastes like bone-chilling morning fog from between his teeth.
When Shirabu speaks again, he's completely dressed and has styled his hair back into some semblance of respectability. He slings his gym bag over his shoulder and glances at everyone in the room.
There's still a blush dusting his cheeks, and a tinge of awkwardness in the way he holds himself up straight.
"I have homework to finish."
And then he leaves.
Satori finds himself staring at the door for far longer than he intended to.
So Shirabu is one of those Alphas.
Semi sits back and sighs, wearily turning towards the rest of the team. He looks exhausted, his ashen fringe matted to his forehead and the rest sticking up at even crazier angles than usual—and he isn't the one who has been used by five different Alphas like a cheap, disposable toy all evening.
Satori's eyes land on the straining bulge in his compression shorts. He swallows thickly. Somehow he hadn't expected the boy to be into this, but it makes Satori's guts twist and turn as the idea gains legs in his mind.
"Reon-san?" Semi all but huffs, pushing his bangs back and away from his face, only to have them flop back down in ropes.
Satori is so fixated on his—admittedly handsome—profile, that he almost misses Reon's apologetic noise. "Aah, I- I can't, sorry. I refuse to have sex with an Omega I can’t claim. I... want to be able to breed my future mate, but—" he raises his hands up and shakes his head. "This was still an... interesting exhibition. Shirabu already helped me out a little, so I'm fine."
Satori whimpers. He wants to help the Alpha too! He wants to be claimed and bred and whatever makes Reon happy! He'll take it, he'll bear it! He can cook! He’ll look so pretty all round with pups and with a pink frilly apron. Heck, he’ll walk barefoot if that’s what Reon wants from his Omegas!
But, painfully, it makes a lot of sense Reon wouldn't want to claim an Omega he harbors no feelings for. He's already traditional enough to not want to compromise his knot unless he's sure he can commit to an Omega. And, much to his surprise, Satori can't find the energy to self-loathe. His mind and entire body feel like they're humming with electricity. He doesn't pay any attention when the other Alphas question Reon's decision, laughing at his old-fashioned beliefs and insisting he at least gets a taste of the bitch they have available.
Surely a Bitched Alpha doesn't really count.
But Reon is strong in his convictions, and Satori is sure that for a long time in the foreseeable future his mind is gonna be plagued with the urge to find anything, any small lead with which to fray the Alpha's resolve.
He has to at least try, right?
"Right." Semi reaches over and carefully removes the condom from Satori's dick, tying it off and letting it fall to the floor with a wet plop.
Satori watches idly as the Beta props himself up with a grunt, rolls his shoulders and neck, and raises his arms up high. The vague thought that he will be agonizingly sore for the next week after today passes through Satori’s mind as he watches the Beta stretch. He’ll also need to run to the pharmacy to get a morning after pill as soon as possible. Semi passes him a bottle of water, and Satori hadn't realized how parched he was until the fresh liquid touches his lips and suddenly he's unable to let go until the contents are completely emptied.
He pants for air and his stomach feels a little heavy, but Semi runs gentle fingers through what no doubt is a mess of gunked-up red hair, and Satori melts into the touch.
"Are you okay?" He asks in a soft tone, and Satori smiles weakly.
"Sleepy."
"Duh," Semi laughs, taking the empty bottle and shoving it in his gym bag. Satori's eyes widen as he watches the setter take off his shirt, muscles flexing underneath.
Suddenly Satori wants to ask for another drink.
It feels like his brain screeches to a halt when Semi removes his shorts as well. Is Semi also planning to have a go with him? Did he plan to when he got (almost) all the other Alphas to join in or was this spur of the moment?
Whichever it is, Satori can’t guarantee he won’t pass out five minutes in.
Semi turns around, cock in hand and a splotchy blush spreading from high on his cheeks all the way down to his collarbones. Satori watches hungrily as Semi's thumb catches a bead of precum from the slit on the head and smears it down the shaft.
"Well then; my turn."
Satori openly shivers when Semi's intense eyes land on his. The pupil is blown out so wide and the brown of his eyes is already dark enough that when Satori's hazy eyes look, Semi's appear to be completely black.
When Semi kneels back down Satori can't help the shocked squeak as he's pulled by the legs over the boy's lap. Their groins press together and Semi's hand flies to wrap around both of their cocks. Semi buries his face in the crook of Satori's neck. He inhales deeply, and Satori shudders when Semi's tongue darts out to lick at the sweat and oil coating his skin.
Before, Semi had been the one stopping the other Alphas from getting too close to claiming him, but now? Satori was completely at his mercy, trusting blindly that Semi perhaps had enough self control not to bite him right then and there.
He glances to the side, eyelashes obscuring and blurring his vision as he looks at the Alphas occupying the bench, but he can still distinguish small jerky motions and the sounds of their ragged breaths.
"I've never been able to smell an Omega so clearly," Semi growls deep in the back of his throat, then drags his tongue over the scent gland on Satori's neck.
He can't help the wanton moan when Satori's nostrils pick up Semi's smell much easier than usual.
Did Semi have his innermost Alpha snap? Because of Satori?
The idea leaves Satori mewling as Semi's callused hand keeps working their cocks together, spreading their mixed precum with long fingers and rolling his hips almost urgently. He pulls back, and Satori's brain doesn't have time to catch up before his head is roughly pushed forward and a pair of insistent lips crash-land on his.
His mind blanks. Satori has never been kissed before, not even to make fun of him afterwards, and now Semi's tongue is gliding inside his mouth like he's mapping it. It’s downright filthy when Semi sucks at Satori's tongue and then grazes his teeth over the tip, and it's mind blowing when he nips at Satori's lower lip with as much finesse as a football player attempting ballet.
It somehow feels even more forceful to have his mouth devoured by a Beta, than his throat fucked by two different Alphas—even more severe than being forced to drink cum with a command. It feels even more demanding than Shirabu pushing him against his cunt and ordering Satori to eat him out.
And it's just a kiss.
Semi drags his tongue along the ridges of Satori's hard palate and pulls away with a smack of his lips. Satori struggles to breathe. His entire mouth tingling and sparkling in almost the same way it does when he eats pop rocks. Semi wipes his mouth with his thumb and swallows. Satori's eyes follow the bob of his Adam's apple and swallows as well.
"You taste like horny Alphas," he mutters, eyes that are all pupil never leaving his.
Satori whimpers as he realizes that even after washing it down with an entire bottle of water, Semi was still able to taste the tang of four—four!—different Alpha's cum in his mouth.
And then Semi raises his right hand and licks the cum clean off of it.
When exactly did Satori cum?
When he looks down, Semi's erection still stands proud between them.
Semi crashes their lips together again, and this time Satori can taste himself on Semi's tongue. It causes the spark in his gut to burn back to life, and he absently wonders if all of this stimulation won't cause his heat to extend as well.
His legs wrap around Semi's hips when Semi pulls them closer, and their cocks press together as well. The fiction makes his head spin when Semi pins him against the slick floor.
For a moment, Satori thinks that he doesn't want the other Alphas watching anymore. It's too much. Too overwhelming.
And then Semi sits back on his haunches and all thoughts are flushed away at the loss of heat. He wants Semi back over him, he wants his scent surrounding them and filling every space between their bodies. Satori's head weighs a hundred kilos when he raises it. The floor is cold and wet with sweat and cum and spit, and he whimpers when Semi rolls on a condom.
But I want your cum, he thinks, and then tenses when Semi snorts and shakes his head.
"But I want your cum," he’s just said out loud.
Semi smirks. "Too bad."
He braces a hand next to Satori's head and leans in. Satori tilts his face up expectantly. Semi's lips ghost over his for several agonizing seconds; his warm breath making Satori's entire body tingle.
Instead, he slowly drags his lips from the apples of Satori's cheeks all the way down to his jawline. He scrapes his teeth at the junction between neck and jaw, and Satori gasps and moans while his heart hammers. It isn't a claiming bite, but it sure will be hard to explain away tomorrow, and it's dangerous enough to have adrenaline cascading through Satori's veins and directly to his loins.
It's as if Semi is testing the limits of his self control. Like tugging on a leash to see if it will give—if it will snap.
Satori hopes it will.
"You're so loud if you think no one's hearing," he whispers against the abused skin. Satori whimpers. "Or do you want people to listen? Do you like being caught the same way you like it when it hurts?" He licks the sweat off of the skin, and then moves to nip in a little lower. Satori trembles when his heart leaps. "Do you also want to get caught by a teacher? First the dog, now covered in your teammate's sweat and cum."
Satori isn't sure if everyone else can hear, or his ears have hyper-focused on Semi's raspy voice and refuse to let go.
He almost doesn't feel Semi slide in with a single push. He does hear the pleased grunt when the Beta rolls his hips slowly.
"Ushiwaka worked you open splendidly. I bet I could fuck you with my knot." It rips a lewd moan out of Satori's very core. Semi's smirk is frayed when he next speaks. "Such a shame you're not getting it."
The whimper Satori was about to let out is cut short by Semi slamming his hips into him with a loud slap. Satori’s mouth snaps open, and if he were only half as bone weary, he would’ve screamed at the sparks of pain and pleasure shooting through his nerves in a way that renders his brain unable to tell them apart. He tries in vain to meet Semi’s motions, but his muscles feel like they’re covered in cement.
“Shh, tighten up for me, come on Tendō, tighten,” he grits out, beads of sweat dripping over Satori’s feverish skin. His body obeys on its own, and Satori gives out a shaky sigh in time with Semi’s blissed out groan. He loves the way Semi’s sharp eyebrows pinch in pleasure, eyes unfocused and vacant like he’s staring through a thick fog, and the way his mouth slacks with every breathy moan. He did that. Satori did that and it makes fireworks spark through his spine, radiating out to every limb and putting a searing pressure behind his navel.
The sensations come to Satori’s mind in waves, as if he’s floating underwater. His breathing is erratic and ragged, his throat is raw from being used and abused and from moaning non-stop all evening, and his lungs burn the way they do after block practice. Semi’s teeth painfully clank against his own and a hot tongue slides so deep Satori feels it in his throat, and then Satori’s vision starts obscuring. The air in the room is scalding hot and heavy, and every pheromone-laden mouthful feels like chewing cotton. There are still pinpricks of pleasure dancing across his skin, a high pitched ringing in his ears and distantly, Satori can tell the arch of his right foot and all the way to the back of his knee is starting to cramp up.
“What a perfect Omega,” Semi’s voice is almost a full octave lower when he purrs out the words. Satori comes with a strained scream.
☆
Satori wakes up because the sliver of sun filtering through his closed curtain feels like someone is shining their phone’s flashlight directly to his eyes. The back of his eyes and every muscle in his body hurt and throb in different ways, and when he sits up to stop Tama from licking at his face, Satori’s abdomen twitches as if he had done 1000 pull ups and his head pounds. His neck is stiff and nearly every vertebrae in his back cracks when he stretches. He yawns, and his jaw pops in a way that makes him whine.
When did he get to his dorm?
Looking around the room, Satori can tell it’s been tidied up. It smells like clean linens, and like someone else was there. Several someones.
Tama whines, and then barks and it makes Satori clamp his thrumming ears shut. He looks over at the panting animal, and then catches sight of a small tote bag sitting on the chair beside his desk. It has been moved closer so that Satori can reach for it from the bed, so he does. He pulls it onto his lap and goes through the contents. Aside from class notes and homework assignments, there are two different ready-made bento boxes and some cookies from the konvini. His stomach rumbles. He opens the package of cookies and places one in his mouth before inspecting the remaining things.
Something in there smells delicious and he wonders if there’s even more food.
There’s a bottle of water and three different brands of painkillers, as well as an emergency contraceptive which Tendō doesn’t wait to take. And then he pulls out a black plastic bag with a pale green sticky note attached to it. There are no words on it but a heart and Semi’s hanko stamp. Satori can’t undo the knot on the bag, so he tears it open instead.
Immediately his head begins to swim.
He faceplants on the fabric and takes a deep breath. There’s a dull twitch between his legs and he moans weakly into Semi’s gym shirt. He struggles against his sore muscles to sit back up, already purring at the smell of all of his Alphas staining each of their shirts. He’ll need to come up with a way to thank them all for taking such good care of him, but for now his hand slides under the clean covers. He gives a short whistle.
Tama’s ears perk up.