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Shuugo’s birthday gift is a young Omega, just a year or two out of high school.
He's an Alpha in his prime but he hasn't mated yet; didn’t even have prospects. Honestly, he wasn’t planning on ever settling, until the government came sniffing around and threatened to put him on some watchlists.
They don’t like older, unmated Alphas running wild.
“It’s a matter of risk-assessment,” they said, when he called about the letter that arrived to him one month before his thirty-fifth birthday. “But if you don’t find a mate in a month, we will be making arrangements for you. And if you don’t like our arrangements, well, I’m sure you won’t like the consequences.”
There are thinly veiled threats and there are promises; Shuugo only fears the latter, so of course he agreed to this.
The Omega did too.
He's expecting some sprightly, peppy young thing, with a bright floral scent that rages with sticky nectar during their heats. Sometimes, out in the city, he smells Omegas like this, whose heats break in public and need to get dragged away from feral Alphas; he’s always held himself back, easily, since the scent is too cloying and sweet for him.
Shuugo’s never really gone for Omegas; he hasn't gone for anyone, really, spending his ruts with toys and fake cunts. And sure, it’s been getting a little rougher the older he’s gotten — he’s got platinum status at the sex shop he buys supplies from, since he destroys his toys more often than not — but he didn’t see a problem with it.
Clearly someone did, though, which is why he’s spending his birthday in a modest, could-be-anywhere office at a Dynamics Center instead of a bar like he’d planned. The room is carefully stripped of scent, and all the specialists in the room are Betas, but he wishes he had the distraction while he waits to meet the Omega that’s supposed to be his for the rest of his life.
“Are you sure we can’t find someone for you?” Hirugami asked, just a week ago, over pre-birthday drinks, where he got drunk enough to explain his dilemma. “Like, anything’s gonna be better than a stranger, right?”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve known your Omega since you were in high school.” He pushed an accusatory finger into Hirugami’s chest, but his friend was sturdy and stable, and Shuugo felt like falling over. “Couldn’t you have spared me some of that luck?”
Hirugami laughed as he steadied Shuugo, pulling away his drink and replacing it with water. “You’ve never wanted that kinda thing, man. I don’t think there’s a scent that interests you out there.”
But Hirugami must be wrong, because when he meets Miya Atsumu for the first time, he barely gets a hint of sweet summer plums and sharp lemongrass before he lunges across the room and slams him into the wall, pressing their faces together while he scents him.
"Easy, boy," Atsumu says, rubbing his back, "you’re not even gonna say hi first?"
Atsumu doesn’t stop him, though, even as Shuugo covers him up with his own deep pine. Is this what it’s like for his mated friends? Finding a scent that you want to fill up on, over and over again, till you’re overflowing with it?
He tugs Atsumu in closer, pressing their bodies together and boxing him against the wall. Atsumu bares his neck for him and Shuugo stuffs his face into it, licking across the scent gland.
“Tickles!” He laughs, but he doesn’t push Shuugo away, wrapping his arms as far across his back as they’ll reach. Distantly, Shuugo hears the government officials and the Dynamic Specialist talk, along with an unfamiliar voice that might be Atsumu’s chaperone joining in.
All he knows is Atsumu’s name, but it’s like he’s made to fit him, just a little less broad than Shuugo, a little shorter; he’s got a strength that keeps them both upright as Shuugo hunches over him, pressing their hips together, drinks his fill of this Omega and his perfect scent.
Atsumu sighs against him. “You’re really gonna make me smell like ya, huh?”
And the thought of that — Atsumu smelling like him, a sweetening note of syrupy resin in his own scent — makes him purr into his neck as his body warms and his cock fills, and
"-oh shit," Shuugo curses, feeling a sudden warmth rush over his body as clarity swiftly dissolves from his mind.
Atsumu smells delighted. "Did I trigger your rut? All this for me?" He grinds his thigh against Shuugo’s cock, too, and that’s where Shuugo really loses it to his inner Alpha.
He remembers yelling; he remembers holding Atsumu close, pushing him to the ground and covering it with his body.
Recalls growling at everyone trying to pull them apart, because how dare they try to take away his Omega?
He doesn’t remember much else, though, besides a sting in his neck and the ringing shake of Atsumu’s laughter against his chest.
***
He comes back to lucidity in a rut room.
It takes a moment, though, to understand what’s happening, as he comes back into his body: he’s naked, covered in sweat and muzzled, and chained to a bed. Each wrist, each ankle, around his waist, too. He’s never been so immobile.
But then there’s pressure down by his cock and he looks down — it’s like moving through molasses, the air and his body sticky and thick — and pleasure rattles though his body when he sees Atsumu, his strong hands wrapped around his knot, cum across his chest and thighs, cheekily kissing the head of his cock as his knot deflates.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” he says, before licking around the glans, making Shuugo buck up against his bondage.
"What?" it's all he can let out, the last however-long existing in fragments.
It could be hours since he first met Atsumu.
It might be weeks.
He’d lose as much time as it takes, again and again, if it meant he could keep Atsumu.
"They wanted to let ya do it alone," Atsumu grins. “But I insisted, since I caused all this, you know?"
He licks the slit of Shuugo’s cock, kisses it till Shuugo’s tugging at his bonds and precum spurts out to paint his lips. Shuugo’s riding the knife’s edge of pleasure and sanity, a calm in the storm of his rut.
He focuses on Atsumu, lapping happily at the slit of his cock, totally in control, milking more precum out, a patch of cum drying on his face. Shuugo wants to see more on Atsumu's pretty face, wants to hold him down and cum on him, over and over, until he smells like it, marking Atsumu as his.
"It's practically my rut too, after all." Atsumu grins as he pumps his cock one last time before climbing onto the bed.
Shuugo’s so big he has to really stretch wide to straddle him, until his cunt’s hovering over his cock, glistening slick dripping down onto it like the sweetest mana.
The scent of it is so sharp and sweet and perfect — that lemongrass again — that it makes him want to growl and tear at the restraints, his Alpha demanding a claim, a taste, anything.
He wants to lick away at Atsumu until he smells like him from the inside out, until he’s practically drowning in his slick, until it’s dripping down his neck and his jaw is sore and Atsumu’s legs are like jelly.
"I wanted to take care of ya," Atsumu says, that grin both mischievous and confident.
Shuugo's cock aches for him, slick mixing with his pre-cum, and he wants to take care of Atsumu, but he can’t; not when he’s bound down like this, not when his rut is so dangerous they needed to pair him with the most perfect Omega.
Atsumu reaches down between them, squeezing Shuugo’s cock a little tight, just enough to hurt and make him croon. "Bet you've made a lot of Omegas feel good with this, Alpha. Can't wait for it to be my turn."
It goes right to Shuugo’s head, Atsumu calling him Alpha like it means something.
Shuugo's cock in hand, Atsumu rubs the head across his cunt, picking up slick and mingling their scents, going back and forth so slowly that it’s like a whole day passes with every stroke.
Shuugo shakes his head. Words are too hard; it’s almost embarrassing to say, honestly, to Atsumu, an Omega who knows what he wants.
"Really? You sure look like a good lay." He frowns, and that won't do. That won't do at all.
"No other Omegas," he grunts out. "Just my hand, just toys, just-"
"Me? Just me?" Atsumu looks thunderstruck, and the confidence returns. It's exhilarating, the happy plum of his scent like a late-summer orchard, stonefruit filling his nose and dancing across his tongue. "Then I guess it's my honor and pleasure to show my Alpha a good time."
'My alpha' nearly shatters his skull while Atsumu bites his lip and spears himself on Shuugo’s cock, cute little hisses escaping from his throat while he adjusts to the girth.
Shuugo tugs at his chains and writhes and bucks, desperate to go deeper, to fill Atsumu, to fuck him and give his Omega what he needs.
"Don't worry," Atsumu says, hand on his thigh to soothe him sweetly."I've got ya, Alpha."
It shouldn't work, Atsumu’s quiet confidence, the way he’s taking care of him. It should make him rankle with the need to bite, to claim, to control and dominate, but instead —
Instead it makes him relax, sighing back onto his bed. He stops fighting the bonds, his muzzle, focusing instead on the way Atsumu’s warm heat slowly surrounds him as he works to take him, the deep breaths he takes that make his naked chest heave. His first taste of an Omega and it’s going to leave him starving for the rest of his life, chasing this pleasure again; the soft pressure of his walls sucking him in, pulling them closer together.
"Easy does it," Atsumu says, mostly to himself, as he sinks lower, brushing up against where his knot’ll bloom, and he throbs as he imagines his knot filling Atsumu, bulging his stomach, pressing into the heat of his cunt.
He takes him slowly, and each centimeter into that sweetness fills him with an agonizing heat. Shuugo passes the time by watching Atsumu’s expression; the way he bites his lip in concentration, the little gasps when he takes Shuugo deeper, his eyes rolling back in his head as his cockhead brushes against a particularly pleasurable spot inside of him.
Once he's settled to the base, though, something changes in Atsumu; he gets confident again, almost mean, a sharp and dangerous glint crossing over his face as he grins at Shuugo.
"How's it feel, Alpha?" He asks, his tone almost teasing, as he grinds down and clenches around him. "A real Omega’s cunt?"
Shuugo wants to scream, wants to yell. It's so hot, so tight, so different.
So alive.
“It’s so good," he slurs out, and that's not what he wanted to say, but he can't do syllables, not when he’s distracted by Atsumu bouncing a little on his cock, how he keeps finding ways to take Shuugo deeper. A burning heat splits his body in two, starting from his cock, where he’s nearly sealed against Atsumu, his Omega.
His words, meager as they are, are enough for Atsumu. "Yeah? it's better than the toys?"
Shuugo nods.
"Use your words, Alpha." Atsumu freezes, refusing to move his hips, even while Shuugo’s locked in place, unable to fuck into him, chase that pleasure, that heat, the need to claim —
"Yes!" It breaks out of his throat, desperate, needy; voice reedy like a lakeshore.
Atsumu preens, and stonefruit fills his nose in pleasure.
"Good," he says, before his smile widens, teeth sharp and almost dangerous in this rut room, and it strikes him then that Atsumu's still a stranger no matter how perfect his scent is, that he knows nothing about him, doesn’t know why he agreed to get mated to a random, older Alpha, couldn’t possibly know what secret desires lay under his skin. "Only the best for my cock, right?"
Shuugo doesn’t get what he means, brow furrowing in confusion, as the heat reaches his skull and he loses himself again in it.
He didn't know he could get fucked for this long. Atsumu rides him for hours, even after he knots him, even after he learns he loves the way the swell of his knot stretches his lips. He gets so stuffed with Shuugo’s cum that it drips out while he bounces on him, and Shuugo wants to catch it on his tongue, wants to push it back inside of him.
Atsumu is brutal and delicious and perfect, and he loves Shuugo's cock. Calls it his own. Claims it for himself.
“You’re so perfect for me, Alpha, your perfect dick, perfect shape, perfect knot from my perfect Alpha," and it slowly sinks in: the sense that Shuugo's just a toy for him. Chained like this, unable to bite or thrust or fuck, he’s Atsumu’s plaything, even as their scents start to merge.
It might be his birthday, but he’s the gift.
Being used like this makes him feel good. It makes him feel useful, it makes the peppercorn of pleasure in his scent rise to the surface as Atsumu noses around his neck and sucks teasing little hickeys into his glands, licking around the muzzle.
"Want my cock, Alpha," he says, into the wet heat of his neck.
Not your cock. His. Like Shuugo already belongs to him, like he's claimed him without the biting, without the ceremony; just owns him at first sight, when he reduced an Alpha to a wild mess, triggered his rut on his scent alone.
As Atsumu milks another orgasm from his body, leaving Shuugo panting and hungry, the dangerous grin crosses his face again. He presses two fingers against his own scent glands, before his hand comes down to toy with the clasp to his muzzle.
Shuugo can't wait for what his Omega does next.