Suguru feels more than a little cheated thinking about the irony of it all. He’s got a nice face, a nice body, a fat cock and a stellar stroke game. But none of those things seem to matter when it comes to satisfying an omega in heat. All of his glorious virtues disappear into the void and his one shortcoming blows up and occupies the entire room like a fucking elephant. 

You see; for an omega in heat, a knot is as necessary as the very oxygen they breathe. And Suguru— Oh, poor Suguru— isn’t physically capable of performing that bare minimum task. Try as he might— and he’s tried! God knows he’s tried for as long as he can remember, many years! But despite all his efforts, Suguru still can not form a knot. 

To make things worse than they already are, being incapable of forming a knot has even more percussions than just being rendered incapable of handling an omega’s heat. Let’s add to the mix the fact that a knotless alpha like Suguru can never impregnate an omega either, never give them the pups they deserve. Unsurprisingly, no one wants an infertile alpha. At least, not in the long run. They’re often reduced to just a quick fuck, if even that, because why not just fuck someone with a knot?

But Suguru— poor romantic Suguru — still tries to grapple for some remnants of hope. Hope that someday, he will be able to find someone to accept him for his shortcomings and love him for the way he is. Someone who will cherish him the way he knows he would be capable of cherishing them, if given the chance. 

With this most sincere yearning nestled in the very depth of his fragile heart, he goes about and tries his hand at love. Only to fail every single time, his pride getting battered and weathered over and over, until it is barely hanging on by a thread.

Today was another one of those days. Another rejection— what number is it now? Ah fuck, Suguru stopped counting a long time ago.

He's at the bar with Satoru now, drinking his pain away. The alcohol burns down his throat, but the burn of his heartbreak is far worse. Satoru rubs his back as a means to console him; but the pain remains.

"I'm sorry, Suguru," Satoru says, trying to comfort Suguru. But it doesn't seem to work and Suguru just proceeds to down another glass of beer. 

"I'm just—" Suguru groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm just so tired, Satoru. At this point, I’ve resigned myself to being alone forever. But the worst part is that it’s not even my fault! This thing —” Suguru flutters his hands about in the air. “This was not a choice. I can't help any of this—"

"Oh Suguru." Satoru pulls Suguru into a gentle hug. Suguru sighs, nuzzling into Satoru's scent gland and taking a deep whiff. The scent of vanilla slowly fills his senses and puts his mind at ease. It's always so soothing to scent Satoru. Though he is an alpha, Satoru’s scent is sweeter than most omegas; healing in a way that helps Suguru relax.

"I just don't get it," Satoru grumbles. "There's so much more to an alpha than just a knot. You're such a catch, Suguru. It's their loss for letting you go."

Suguru smiles at the obvious indignation in Satoru's voice, nuzzling even further into his scent gland and inhaling shakily. There’s a lump in his throat and a familiar sting at the corner of his eyes.

"Oh, but an alpha truly is only as good as his knot, don’t you know?" Suguru whispers. "I’m just a failure of an alpha who can’t even do the bare minimum to keep an omega around, Satoru. Nothing more than defected goods—”

“Suguru, don’t talk about yourself that way!”

“But it’s true!” Suguru growls against Satoru’s neck, shuddering as he tries to calm his frayed nerves. When he speaks, his voice is high pitched and broken. “What omega in their right mind would want an alpha who can not knot them? I would be of no help during their heats. I could never be able to impregnate them and provide them with a family of their own.” Suguru tips his head up and fixes Satoru with a melancholy gaze. “You’re an alpha; you would know just how much an omega appreciates your asset.”

"Oh." Satoru clears his throat awkwardly. A heavy silence settles between them and Suguru's eyes slowly droop down before they fully peel shut. Satoru stutters out, "I uh— I don't knot omegas, Suguru."

Suguru scrunches his brows together, peering at Satoru in confusion. "What do you mean you don't knot omegas? Are you a virgin now?"

"No, absolutely not!" Satoru scoffs, looking so appalled at the assumption that Suguru can't help but break into a small smile. 

"I meant—" Satoru coughs into his fist, turning toward Suguru looking up at him. "I meant that I don't fuck omegas. I get fucked by them." Suguru’s eyes widen in shock and he pulls away from Satoru as if he’s been electrocuted. But Satoru isn’t done talking yet. “But uh— To be honest, I much rather prefer getting fucked by alphas instead.”

Huh?! What the fuck?

Suguru stares at Satoru with his mouth hanging open. His head reels with a dozen thoughts, trying to piece together the fragments of what Satoru has just said to him and make sense of it. Satoru just said that he likes being fucked instead of doing the fucking. Which isn’t so bad. There are lots of alphas who are into that sort of thing, although Suguru can’t really relate. He even knows a few omegas who prefer to top exclusively, like Shoko. It’s no biggie.

No, the biggie is the fact that this is Satoru . His best friend, the only person who’s been by his side through thick and thin. It’s weird to hear about this aspect of Satoru’s life. It’s also weird that he’s only hearing about it now. Great, now he’s going off into a confused spiral about why Satoru didn’t care enough to share his sexual preference before. 

“Oh.” Suguru says lamely. “I uh— I didn’t know that. You’ve— you’ve never told me.”

“You’ve never noticed,” Satoru answers. Suguru whips his head around, chest squeezing with something akin to guilt. And annoyance . This is too much information for him right now, especially on a night as shitty as this one. Suguru has enough on his plate with his own failure without having to absorb this new change. This new side of Satoru that he needs more time to get acclimated to.

“Okay, so now I’m supposed to just magically know that you like taking it up the ass, huh?” Suguru grits out. It’s more savage than he means it to be, but he’s half drunk and fully heartbroken so he gathers that gives him a free pass to be an asshole. If he were capable of more rational thought, he’d probably consider that Satoru might be referring to how Suguru’s never noticed him going out with other alphas. But he’s clearly not in the most stable mindset right now— far from it, actually. “It’s not a big deal,” Suguru huffs out, irritation prickling his skin. “You could’ve just told me.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Satoru rolls his eyes, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. “You’re being all weird about it already—”

“I’m not being weird,” Suguru scoffs, bile rising up his throat. “I’m just… just surprised. And offended.”

“Offended?”

“It’s as if you didn’t tell me because you see me the same way as everyone else.” Suguru knows that he’s just being petty now. But he’s hurting and he’s scared and he’s— he’s just a big fucking mess. “You like getting fucked by alphas but you coincidentally don’t tell your best friend who is an alpha? Why not? Is it because I’m dysfunctional? Because even you don’t think I’m alpha enough? Because you need a knot to get off just like everyone else?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Suguru, jaw clenched tight and ticking with annoyance. The only sign that he’s upset is the sour note his scent takes. Pungent and distressed. Disappointed . Suddenly, it strikes Suguru that he’s fucked up.

“Ah fuck, I’m sorry, Satoru.” Suguru groans, reaching to gather Satoru into his arms, guilt piling on when Satoru doesn’t offer any kind of resistance; as if he’s forgiven Suguru for everything. “Sorry for being such an asshole,” Suguru continues, carding his fingers through Satoru’s hair, the way he knows helps relax him. Silver strands slip through his fingers, silky, warm. Satoru makes a gruff sound, something like a suppressed grunt. “I— I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. I’m sorry, Satoru.”

“It’s okay,” Satoru says, nuzzling into Suguru’s neck and mouthing against his scent gland in a means to comfort him. “I should’ve told you before. You had a rough day, Suguru. I never meant to make it rougher.”

“No, Satoru, that’s not it! You—”

“Just so you know, I didn’t keep it from you because I think you’re defective . Suguru, I would never think of you that way. You are so important to me.” Satoru swallows harshly, exhaling against Suguru’s pulse point and making him shiver. Satoru looks up at him, eyes glossed over as he whispers, “I didn’t tell you because I care about you so much. And I was so scared you might start to hate me for the way I am.”

“Satoru—” Suguru’s throat clogs up with emotion and he gently cups Satoru’s cheeks, smiling when Satoru noses against his palm. “I care about you too. And I would never judge you. The same way you’ve never judged me through all these years.”

“I know.” Satoru presses a soft kiss against Suguru’s wrist, leaving a warmth in the wake of his lips. “And for the record, I was always one hundred percent honest with you. Knots aren’t everything. At least for alphas like me. We can’t even take knots anyway, so—”

Pause. Suguru’s brows shoot up in surprise. Huh? He didn’t know that before. To be fair, he’s never really considered alphas being with other alphas before so it’s not like he knew what to expect. 

“Is— Is that so?” Suguru clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It’s weird talking to Satoru about all this. But it shouldn’t be weird at all, considering how Suguru always shares intimate details of his own sex life on the daily. 

“Yeah, alpha assholes don’t stretch like that.” Satoru giggles, oblivious to the turmoil in Suguru’s mind. He grabs his glass of beer and takes a slow sip before swirling it in his hand and watching the golden liquid slop around. He turns around to look at Suguru and stills when he takes in the unsuppressed mixture of panic and curiosity that meets him. “Suguru—?”

“Y— Yeah?” Suguru stutters out, clearing his throat as a wave of mortification washes over him. He can feel the heat spreading from his cheeks all the way to his neck. What in the world? Pull yourself together, Suguru!

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, but his voice is softer than usual, breathy. It’s probably the alcohol, Suguru tells himself. Satoru always did have a low tolerance. Yeah, that’s it. “It uh—” Satoru continues, voice raspy and thick and— God, there’s sweat starting to bead on Suguru’s neck. Why is it suddenly getting so hot in the middle of fucking winter?! Satoru chuckles awkwardly. “It hurts when they start to knot. I uh— I don’t like it that big.”

Fuck —

Everything suddenly feels too much for Suguru. It’s like the air is on fire, burning against his flesh and making him want to peel himself out of his own skin. He should’ve never asked— he doesn’t even remember how they got to this train of conversation, why they’re talking about this. About Satoru. About how tight Satoru must be, how much he can stretch. Suguru wonders if he’d be pliant—

“Okay,” Suguru coughs out, grappling for his drink and chugging it down. “That makes sense. Sounds good, Satoru.”

A small hum and a shuffle beside him is the only sign that Satoru acknowledges him. Suguru doesn’t turn around for quite a while after that; he just continues to stare into his glass, wallowing in his own awkwardness and cursing the reflection on top of the golden liquid.

*****

“Why am I here, Satoru?” Suguru groans, shuffling about awkwardly as he tries to make himself disappear into the backdrop. “You know I hate clubs.”

“Relax, Suguru,” Satoru giggles, patting his shoulder casually as he scans the crowd. “This one’s not that high profile. Look! There are like at most twenty people in the house. Come on!”

“There are so many other ways I imagined spending my Friday night. Better ways— quieter ways!” Suguru mumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets and following behind Satoru. They weave through the crowd— there’s definitely more than twenty people in here! Satoru, you absolute liar! — and reach the bar table, ordering some shots. 

“What other ways? Watching old Netflix reruns on the couch?” Satoru giggles before throwing it back and smacking his lips at the sharp taste. “Ahh! That hits the spot!” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, cheeks already flushing a soft pink. “Come on, Suguru! Let’s get you all loosened up. Have some fun tonight.”

Suguru clicks his tongue, downing his shot without much enthusiasm. He knows why they’re here. It’s because he’s been moping all week, a perfect melancholy picture of heartbreak. This is Satoru’s way of trying to cheer him up. They do it all the time, a familiar routine for them over the years. Every time Suguru has the post break up blues, Satoru swoops in like his knight in shining armour, ready to piece him together through whatever fun quirky method he deems suitable for helping him heal. From amusement park trips (often ending with them just riding the ferris wheel ‘cause Satoru’s scared of rollercoasters) to trekking (which turns into picnics because the view is always nice when Satoru is beside him) to on the spur vacations (where they always rent a single room and Suguru has the best sleep ever when he gets spooned by his personal human heater, Satoru) to dance clubs like the one they’re at today.

It’s not that Suguru’s into any of these things. No, in fact, it would even be safe to say that he’s quite averse to most of them. But maybe it’s because he’s with Satoru that he sees everything through rose tinted glasses; everything becomes fun and all his troubles just magically disappear for a short while. For as long as Satoru is with him, at least.

It’s because they’re best friends. Suguru swipes the lemon across his tongue, allowing the sourness to ground him. It’s because they’re best friends. Suguru iterates that over and over in his head, sucking at the sour slice, too distracted to even wince at the sharp tang.

“Let’s go dance!” Satoru throws his hands up in the air and wiggles his shoulders in glee. There’s a soft flush to his cheeks, glossy with the hit of alcohol, the blue of his eyes sparkles ethereally. He’s pretty, the way he always is. But something’s different tonight. Different in a way that Suguru doesn’t want to ponder on.

“Satoru!” Suguru whines, reluctantly pulling himself up to his feet and allowing Satoru to tug him towards the dancefloor. “I’m just gonna make a fool out of myself. You know I can’t dance for shit.”

“Everybody can dance, Suguru,” Satoru replies. His words slur in the most charming way; there’s something absolutely endearing about the way he gets drunk so easily. “Just move around to the beat of the music,” Satoru continues. “Just sway in place or something.”

“Besides, the music fucking sucks,” Suguru murmurs. But he’s loathe to deny Satoru, his body already shimmying awkwardly as he tries to match the rhythm of the rather outdated EDM number. 

A peal of laughter brings his attention back to Satoru. He has the biggest smile on his face with his teeth on full display, eyes scrunched up into twinkling blue slits. A pang of misplaced wistfulness shoots straight through Suguru’s chest. He shakes his head and attempts to dance in place, anything to distract himself from that nagging voice in his head that just won’t quit.

Satoru starts dancing too. Silly, goofy, over-the-top moves that make Suguru feel like less of a fool himself. They just stand there in their own little bubble on the dance floor and it’s as if the rest of the world dissolves. Nothing else doesn’t matter. Everything ceases to exist, except for Satoru and Suguru. All of Suguru’s troubles vanish into the background noise. His mind is filled with nothing other than Satoru’s soft lopsided smile and the clammy warmth of his palm.

Of course, every bubble must pop at some point. The floor gets populated in waves, batches of people spilling into the space around them and pushing them closer together. Some even invade their space, creeping between them and trying to dance in tandem. Suguru sighs, already a little exhausted as he tries to keep a straight face when a random omega slides up beside him, running her perfectly manicured hands down his chest, before hovering around his crotch. His lips part in surprise, a heat pooling in his groin at the action. He’s only an alpha; biologically programmed to get turned on by an omega’s advances.

A small chuckle in front of him brings his attention to Satoru; he’s smirking at Suguru, blue eyes glittering even under the dim lights of the club— something like disco balls in their own right. Suguru swallows, watching Satoru turn around and continue to dance, swaying his hips seductively as he rides the music. It’s hypnotising, the way Satoru moves like water that cascades unendingly. Even tipsy on a third rate club floor, he somehow makes every move look effortlessly captivating. It’s as if Suguru is hypnotised by him.

Suguru’s brought out of his senses when he notices that he’s frozen again. The omega’s looking at him in disdain, perfectly groomed eyebrows quirked up as she gives him a once over before flipping her hair and leaving. Suguru feels almost apologetic for not entertaining her, but he’s just really not in the mood. He turns around to go back to Satoru, maybe get him to leave. But before he can even form any coherent thought, his mouth hangs open at the sight before him.

Satoru’s still dancing— of course he is. But this time, he’s dancing with another alpha. It’s intimate the way they move together, chest to chest, a feather’s width apart. Satoru has a heady look on his face, lips parted, tongue coming out to lick at his lower lip every so often. If Suguru didn’t know better, he’d say Satoru is flirting. The alpha he’s dancing with is definitely turned on though, no doubt about that. His jaw is clenched and his hands claw at Satoru’s hips in a vice grip, large hands almost encompassing the width of Satoru’s hips. Suguru swallows, wondering what it would look like if his own hands were to wrap around Satoru instead.

A small gasp permeates the air as Satoru is manhandled around, his back against the alpha’s chest. And then he grinds against the man’s cock, eyes clenched shut, lower lip tucked between his teeth. A picture of delectable sin. Big, strong alpha Satoru… reduced to a horny mess. Suguru can only stare, jaw ticking, chest smarting with how long he’s been subconsciously holding his breath. He can not bring himself to do anything, even as Satoru moves his hips, rocking them from side to side, up and down, grinding against the alpha’s cock. Said alpha has his hands wrapped possessively around Satoru’s waist, pressing him closer, almost as if he’s trying to hoist him up and fuck him just like that, even though he’s much shorter than Satoru, and smaller too. 

It’s not the first time Suguru’s watching Satoru dance with an alpha— after all, Satoru dances with everyone all the time. And he’s equally shameless with them too, regardless of subgender. But this is the first time Suguru’s noticing just how attractive Satoru is— just how fuckable he is. 

Satoru is different from all the other alphas. Softer, prettier, sexier — But he wasn’t any of these things before. Or maybe he was… and Suguru’s just never noticed that side of him before. Not before they had that conversation. Not before Satoru said he likes to get fucked by alphas, take their cock. Not before Satoru said he likes alphas but doesn't care for their knots. 

God, Suguru already knows that he’s projecting. He’s already sinking into the spiral, a dozen unwanted thoughts swimming around in his head, along the wavelength of how maybe, he has a chance with someone like Satoru— no, maybe he has a chance with Satoru himself. 

It’s all the wrong things to crave. But he’s already a bit intoxicated, stranded here on the dance floor, looking straight at the object of his current obsession. The lights illuminate Satoru’s features like a kaleidoscope and make him look more beautiful than anyone has a right to. Blue eyes bluer than the ocean, messy hair fanning around him like a halo, pale skin flushed a pretty pink. At this moment, a small seed of longing plants itself inside Suguru’s heart. 

As if sensing his gaze, Satoru turns around. Their eyes lock in an electrifying way, the kind that Suguru’s only seen in mushy movies that he doesn’t even like to watch. He’s breathless and has too much air to breathe, all at the same time. It’s euphoric in the most suffocating way. He inhales, watching Satoru’s eyes flash with new understanding. He knows ; he always could see right through Suguru.

But contrary to whatever Suguru thought his reaction would be like, it’s the complete opposite. Satoru doesn’t look disgusted or awkward or terrified or anything that Suguru would deem an appropriate response. No. Satoru’s grip on the alpha’s hair tightens— Suguru had almost forgotten about his existence, so this serves as quite an unpleasant reminder. But that hardly even matters at the moment. Because Satoru is looking right at him— at Suguru . 

If Suguru’s guessing right, then the look in Satoru’s eyes is something like curiosity. He throws his head back against the crook of the other alpha’s neck, lips parted seductively, eyelashes batting as he gives his best come hither look. Watching Suguru. Swaying his hips from side to side as he grinds back. Baiting Suguru. 

And Suguru— Suguru doesn’t know what to do. Suddenly, he doesn’t know how to move his hands, his legs— anything . He just stands there, frozen in space and time, watching Satoru grind filthily against a stranger, and wishing it was him instead.

*******

They don’t talk about it afterwards. They just walk back home once the song ends, pretending like everything’s the same. Satoru’s still a bit tipsy. But he doesn’t lean into Suguru’s space like he usually would. He’s more reserved tonight, keeping a respectable distance. As if he’s scared of touching Suguru. Which is nuts because he’s usually so physical, all warm hugs and sweet nuzzles. Suguru pretends he doesn’t notice though. He pretends like everything’s the same. Even though it’s not.

They manage to catch a cab. Any other time, Satoru would be all over Suguru, giggling and toppling onto him all loud and giggly, obnoxious enough to warrant a scolding from the cab driver on many occasions. But not tonight. Tonight, the two of them sit at opposite corners of the back seat, looking outside at the passing night scenery. 

There’s a part of Suguru that hopes the sudden awkwardness is a one time thing. That Satoru will forget everything that happened that night, that Suguru will get over it himself and everything will go back to normal. But there’s another part of him— a bigger one, buried deep inside the vestiges of his sorry soul— that hopes for a change. He swallows, looking out at the night scenery and trying not to think about it. 

“Suguru?” 

Satoru’s voice interrupts Suguru’s thoughts, making him almost jolt out of his skin. He clears his throat and turns around, humming in question. It’s hard to look Satoru in the eye when he’s staring straight at Suguru with such a serious expression, lower lip caught between his teeth. The atmosphere is somehow daunting and exciting at the same time.

“Did you— Did you have a good night?” Satoru asks lamely, sheepish smile plastered on his face.

“Mmhmm.” Suguru nods in affirmation before he rubs his chin, feigning indifference. “You know I don't do clubs and dancing and all that.” Satoru opens his mouth, as if to protest. But he doesn’t get to say anything before Suguru cuts him off immediately. “But I like hanging out with you,” he says plainly. “It’s always fun when I’m with you, Satoru. You’re my best friend.”

“Now don’t get all sentimental on me now,” Satoru says, even though his smile’s turned up a thousand watts. “But yeah, likewise. I have fun with you too.”

“Is that so?” Suguru teases, index finger on his chin as he pretends to think. “Looked to me like you were having more fun with that other guy you were grinding against.” Suguru peels his eyes open, ready to be met with a flustered Satoru, maybe even poke some more fun at him, make him squirm and whine the way he usually does when he’s embarrassed, always  so cute.

When he gets a proper look at Satoru though, he’s taken aback by the entirely foreign expression on his face. Blue eyes glazed, tongue slowly swiping across his lower lip, lashes fluttering prettily. Suguru’s smile drops like a stone, his breath catching in his chest as he tries to process what’s going on. 

“I wasn’t…” Satoru gulps audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the action— it’s weirdly sensual; Suguru wishes it wasn’t so distracting. “I wasn’t having more fun with him,” Satoru continues, still not meeting Suguru’s eyes. He bites into his lower lip, hard enough to leech it white. Something strange settles into Suguru’s mind, a yearning to reach over and thumb at Satoru’s lips, free them from his teeth, trace their wet periphery—

“I was looking at you, Suguru.” Satoru groans, immediately covering his face with his palms, and shaking his head fervently. Suguru’s heart nearly shoots straight out of his rib cage, his blood flowing straight to his chest and making him feel suffocated. 

“I was doing it to get your attention.” Satoru isn’t done yet. “Put on a show just for you, Suguru. ‘Cause you were— you were looking at me like you—” Satoru’s fingers part the slightest bit and he peers at Suguru through the spaces. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, ironic considering he’s admitting all of this on his own volition. “You were looking at me like you wanted me.”

Suguru gasps, low and guttural. His head pounds, a dozen montages playing behind his retinas. Satoru’s eyes locked with Suguru’s as he grinded against the alpha in the club. The way he never once looked away— never looked at anyone else except Suguru. The way his hips moved. The way the alpha’s hands had wrapped all the way around Satoru’s waist. The way Suguru wondered what it would be like to be in his place and be the one to touch Satoru instead—

“Did you?” Satoru ponders. His hands hang awkwardly in front of him, as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Did you want me, Suguru?”

Yes.

The answer is so easy. Yes— fucking yes ! Suguru wanted Satoru more than he has wanted someone in a long, long time. It’s overwhelming how attracted he is to Satoru all of a sudden. But Suguru’s too scared to admit it. There’s more to it than just wanting to fuck Satoru’s brains out. It’s not any simple old attraction. No. Satoru is an alpha and Suguru’s never been with one more. That’s not all. Satoru is not just any old alpha— he’s Suguru’s best friend. But most of all, Suguru doesn’t know why it is that he’s suddenly feeling such a strong sense of desire towards Satoru. There’s a small voice in his head that tells him it’s because of what Satoru said the other day— of course, it’s because of what Satoru said the other day. About how he’s an alpha that likes to be fucked— likes to take alpha cock like an omega would. 

And alphas don’t take knots. So that means, Suguru has a shot with Satoru. 

But that’s precisely where the problem originates. What if Suguru is only attracted to Satoru now that he knows his orientation? What if it’s just some kind of weird fetish? He doesn’t want it to be like that— not with Satoru. Satoru is his best friend and he would rather hurt himself than hurt Satoru in any capacity.

“Suguru?” Satoru asks, voice soft. Suguru’s breath catches when he looks into Satoru’s eyes and sees how vulnerable he is in this moment, scared. Of Suguru. And with good reason.

“Mmm?” Suguru croaks out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re drunk, Satoru.” He knows Satoru’s not drunk; he’s not drunk at all, not with eyes as vivid as that, an electric blue that’s more just sober enough. “We can talk tomorrow. Maybe you might even forget it.” Suguru chuckles awkwardly in a cover to dismiss everything, to play it down. To break Satoru’s heart.

Luck is on his side, it seems, as the cab takes that moment to park in front of Satoru’s apartment. “Look,” Suguru forces the words out, blinking so that his eyes don’t sting. “We’ve almost reached your place.”

The street light blinks ominously; Suguru wonders if they’re ever going to fix the damn thing. He turns around and gets out of the car, jogging around to the other side and pulling Satoru’s door open for him; he just wants to make sure Satoru will be stable on his feet, just wants to give him a shoulder for support.

“I’m fine,” Satoru brushes him off, head hanging low as he smoothly walks past Suguru. He tugs out a wad of cash from his pockets, before bending down and shoving them into the driver’s face. “That’s my share,” he whispers, before turning back around and hurrying up the stairway to his apartment. He doesn’t look at Suguru once, doesn’t spare even the smallest glance his way.

It crushes Suguru to know that in place of the new attraction that bloomed between them the other day, there is now resentment and hostility; and that it’s his fault— he’s the one who fucked things up. Before, when they were back in the club, he was the one who looked at Satoru first. Right now, when Satoru was being honest with him, he fucked up and ruined everything. 

Watching Satoru drag himself up the stairs, shoulders slumped in dejection, Suguru can only watch and rot in his own guilt. It’s all his fault. He screwed everything up. 

When the engine whirrs to life and the cab slowly pulls out, Suguru has half a mind to fling himself out of the door and chase Satoru back home. Apologise a million times over and beg for his forgiveness. Tell him how much he cares about him and cherishes him and if he’d be okay with it, that could transcend just friendship— 

Suguru shakes his head, exhaling on a hiss as he throws his head back and tries to clear his thoughts. Listening to the pitter patter of the raindrops against the hood of the cab, a perfect backdrop for his current mood.

*******

“What do you want, Suguru?”

Suguru can feel the heat of Satoru's scowl even through the seam of the door. Forcing a wobbly smile on his face, Suguru places his hand against the door and pushes, gently but cautiously. He gulps when Satoru’s grip on the door tightens, shifting dangerously close to the latch.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” Suguru says, voice soft, awkward. He doesn’t remember the last time he was awkward with Satoru. Maybe it was that one time back in high school, before either of them had even presented, when he asked Satoru if he should try courting Shoko. That had been awkward as hell, and quite redundant considering Suguru got his heart broken by his first ever rejection only a couple of minutes later.

“I was busy,” Satoru replies curtly. “In fact, I’m pretty busy right now too. So if you’ll excuse me—”

“Satoru, it’s Saturday night!” Suguru panics when Satoru motions to shut the door. He slips his foot in between the door and the ledge, only to yelp in pain when it gets jammed in the space. “Shit—!”

“Suguru, what the fuck—” Satoru squeaks, immediately throwing the door open all the way and making a grab for Suguru. “Are you okay? Why would you do that, dumbass? Your fucking foot—!”

For the next ten minutes, Satoru has his hands all over Suguru, ushering him inside and making him take a seat on the couch. He’s going on and on about how they should go see a doctor— what if Suguru’s toe got fractured?! Suguru feels overwhelmed in the best way possible, being fussed about by Satoru like this— like always. Like they’ve forgotten about the odd tension between them and gone back to normal.

Satoru is pouting and grumbling under his breath, seated on the floor as he grabs Suguru’s ankle. He takes Suguru’s foot in his hand before resting it on his thigh. 

A small spark ignites at the point of contact, sudden and sharp. And it’s not from Suguru’s injury. Not at all. This is all Satoru. It’s the warmth from Satoru’s soft, supple thighs that are only accentuated by his worn out shorts. Suguru swallows when he notices how much the denim rides up his thighs when he shifts, legs crossed, lean muscles rippling gloriously with every slight movement. 

“What are you looking at, Suguru?”

Suguru whips his eyes up to see that Satoru is watching him, eyebrows raised in silent judgement. Oh great, he got caught in the act. He feels his cheeks burn up in a sudden blush, appalled at how ridiculous he must look to Satoru. He glances away, directing his gaze down at where his pale foot is nestled in Satoru’s lap, between the golden pastures of his thick thighs. Suguru wonders if it would be easy to mark up the flesh, to litter them with bites— oh god, he needs to get a grip.

“I’m—” Suguru clears his throat, trying to swallow down the lump of embarrassment. He doesn’t even have an excuse. What was he doing— What is he doing? He groans, rubbing his hands down his face in mortification. His toes curl reflexively, digging into the soft flesh of Satoru’s thighs, eliciting a soft breathy gasp from him. 

Fuck— Suguru’s eyes snap open, his jaw going slack as he takes in Satoru’s face. Parted lips, flushed cheeks and nose and ears, eyes dilated a dark cloudy blue. He’s leaning forward, one hand wrapped loosely around Suguru’s ankle, the other sprawled out on the floor. Suguru’s mind flashes with an image of Satoru clawing at the hard floor tiles, scratching them with his blunt nails, even as Suguru ploughs into him, taking him apart. Right in the middle of his goddamn living room. With the front door open for all the world to see and know that Satoru is his—

“You’re aroused.” Satoru’s voice is strained, deep and hungry in a way that Suguru can relate to more than he is willing to admit. Suguru makes a small garbled sound, mind swirling with a dozen thoughts at the same time. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to deny Satoru’s accusation, even though it’s true? Pretend like he doesn’t want to jump Satoru’s bones and rip his fucking shorts off— God, is Satoru even wearing any boxers under those things? 

“Satoru,” Suguru says, appalled at how high his voice sounds and the way it cracks at the end. “Satoru,” he repeats, firmer, steadier. “You weren’t replying to my calls or texts. And I didn’t see you even once on campus. You were avoiding me.” 

Suguru feels a weight settle in his chest as he relives the past week, the way Satoru had gone out of his way to avoid him. He isn’t used to that— isn’t used to being treated so coldly, not by Satoru.  “Why were you avoiding me?” Suguru finishes lamely, voice small, a little broken. 

“You’re changing the subject,” Satoru snorts out, rolling his eyes. “Not that I’m surprised. You always were good at beating around the bush, Suguru.” 

Satoru turns towards Suguru, meeting his gaze straight on. There’s a fire in the depth of his eyes, the kind that scares Suguru. He doesn’t want to get burned. Not by Satoru. He’s been burned so many times in the past and the pain never gets duller. The healing never gets easier. With Satoru, though, Suguru knows that the pain will be incomparable and he doubts he’ll ever be able to heal completely. No. He would never be able to heal from Satoru.

“I’m not changing the subject.” Suguru sighs, averting Satoru’s eyes for the umpteenth time. I just don’t wanna talk about it. “I asked first,” he says instead, cringing inwardly at himself. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Satoru scoffs, muttering an inflamed “really?” under his breath. Contrary to Suguru’s expectations, Satoru gives him a straight answer. “I’m ignoring you ‘cause you shot me down that night, Suguru. I’m still not over it.” Okay, that’s not such a straight answer at all. In fact, it’s really fucking gay. Not to mention, confrontational.

“Oh,” Suguru says, focusing his gaze on the nice picture frame resting on the shelf in the opposite corner of the room. It’s a picture of Satoru during his high school graduation ceremony, all decked up in his graduation gown, cap lopsided, his smile radiant like a goddamn diamond. 

Suguru swallows, feeling a pang in his chest when he looks at him in the photograph, tiny as he is in the corner of the picture from across the room. That’s  Satoru, who’s been his friend since high school. That’s Satoru who’s kicked his ass in every basketball match since they were teens. That’s Satoru who comforted him with yakiniku after Shoko rejected him and gave him his first real heartache. That’s Satoru who likes to get fucked by alphas. Alphas like Suguru—

“There you go again.” Satoru laughs, bitter and exasperated. “I can fucking smell you, Suguru! Why won’t you just admit how you feel—”

Suguru gulps, balls his hands into fists by his side. He frowns, looking back down before he takes his feet off Satoru’s lap and lifts his legs to the couch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Satoru,” he mutters, bringing his knees up and hugging them to his chest. He feels oddly vulnerable like this, laid bare for Satoru to judge.

“Liar,” Satoru whispers with a heavy sigh. He suddenly rises up to his feet with a heave and startles Suguru, making him shuffle to the side just in time for Satoru to take a seat beside him. Satoru is frowning, lips pulled down all the way and it’s unfair how it warms up Suguru’s heart all over. He’s sitting close, so close that Suguru can see the little specks of gold in his blue eyes, the small scar on his right cheekbone. Even the mole on his Adam’s apple. It’s winking at him, inviting him to bend over and swipe his tongue across it.

“Your scent has been spiking up the whole time you’ve been here,” Satoru says, lips curling up into a smirk. He looks smug and pretty and Suguru wants to kiss him— “You’re stinking up my whole fucking apartment, Suguru.” Satoru laughs, the sound sharp and vitriolic. He’s looking at Suguru from the corner of his eyes, as if challenging him to make a move. To be honest for goddamn once.

“Satoru,” Suguru finally speaks, voice strained. “Please—”

“I answered your question, Suguru. I told you the fucking truth. So now, it’s your turn.” Satoru leans forward, edging closer into Suguru’s space, making Suguru lean back instinctually. And that just makes Satoru sneer at him and roll his eyes. He doesn’t relent though. No, he just keeps pushing, keeps invading Suguru’s space and his senses. Satoru’s scent is spiking too, a heady vanilla scent that makes Suguru want to taste him, lap him up.

“Just tell me the truth,” Satoru whispers against Suguru’s ear— when did he even get so close that his breath sends shivers down Suguru’s spine? “Tell me why you’re so turned on, Suguru.” 

Suguru startles, flushing all over again, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to come up with an excuse. It’s futile. He’s never been a good actor, especially not in front of Satoru. But he’s scared, he’s fucking scared.

“Or—” Satoru clears his throat, freezing in place before slowly pulling back and meeting Suguru’s eyes. Suguru’s breath catches when he takes in how defenceless Satoru looks, eyes glistening with vulnerability, raw and honest and just as scared as Suguru feels. “Or am I just imagining things? Suguru—” Satoru’s voice cracks and he moistens his lips, chuckling drily in a pretence to sound confident. He fails. “Tell me this is real.” 

Oh. Suguru’s eyes widen as it sinks in that Satoru is just as scared as he is. Satoru is probably feeling even more terrified because Suguru rejected him right after he shared something so personal about himself, something so intimate. Suguru just downright brushed him off, without even giving him a valid excuse. Because that’s what it all boils down to: an excuse. A selfish miserable excuse to keep Satoru at bay because Suguru is too much of a coward to be honest with him— with himself.

“Satoru,” Suguru says, gently cupping Satoru’s cheeks and rubbing his thumbs into Satoru’s cheekbones. He sighs, heart squeezing when Satoru nuzzles into his touch, still eyeing him with so much vulnerability. “The truth is… I— I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose— this .” Suguru closes his eyes, leaning forward and rubbing their noses together in an act to ground himself, exhaling and feeling his breath mingle with Satoru’s. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“What the fuck kind of logic is that, Suguru? Why would you think you’d lose me?”

“I don’t know!” Suguru hisses through his teeth, clenching his eyes tight as he tries to cancel out everything except the warmth radiating from Satoru. “I don’t know but I don’t wan to end up fucking things up, Satoru. I don’t want to try something with you, only to screw up everything we have already if— when — it ends up not working out in the end.”

“Stop, it doesn’t have to be that serious.” Satoru’s hands are cupping Suguru’s face now, nudging his cheeks and forcing him to peel his eyes open, slowly, wincing as the light strains his eyes. Satoru’s brows are knitted together in resolve. “It doesn’t have to be serious, Suguru,” Satoru repeats. “We can just have fun. We'll still be friends like we’ve always been.” He pauses then, licking his lips again, making Suguru’s eyes drop down to his pink tongue, wet and glistening as it swipes across his reddened lower lip. His scent diffuses stronger, getting more intense, intoxicating. “It can be just casual sex, you know? Nothing’s going to change. We’re not gonna change. It’s still going to be just you and me like it’s always been. The sex can be detached, totally separate. Casual.”

“No.” Suguru shakes his head, bringing his hands back to rest against Satoru’s, holding them there, waiting for their heat to seep into his fingers. “No,” he repeats, throat clogging with emotion. An icy hand wraps around his heart, squeezing it in trepidation. “I can’t do that, Satoru. I can’t just fuck around with you and separate the sex from— from you. I can’t do that.”

“Suguru, what—”

“I can't do casual, Satoru. I don’t know how to.” Suguru chuckles. It comes out a little wet, a lot pathetic— god, he sounds so fucking lame. But he can’t help it that he’s wired this way. “I can’t do fuck buddies or any of that. If we fuck, I’m—” Suguru swallows harshly, peeking at Satoru from under his lashes. Satoru’s eyes are wide, his cheeks red, his lips parted in a mix of shock and confusion. He’s cute— it’s so unfair how Suguru is so endeared by every little expression on his stupid, pretty face.

“If we fuck,” Suguru says again, slow and deliberate, leaning into Satoru’s palm and inhaling sharply, nervously. “If we fuck, I want to take things all the way. I want to take you out on dates. To the movies, to a fancy restaurant. Wanna kiss you in public, even though it makes me cringe and shit.”

Satoru giggles at that, a soft squeaky sound that warms Suguru’s heart right up, melts the ice and leaves only butterflies. Suguru starts smiling too, a faint upward tilt to his lips, barely there.

“Wanna take you to my hometown for Christmas,” Suguru continues, voice going softer seeing how Satoru doesn’t look repulsed by his train of thought. “And that cat cafe in Shinjuku that just opened last week.”

“Oh my god, you’re bribing me!” Satoru whines, pouting playfully. Suguru smiles in reply, reaching forward and pressing a quick kiss on Satoru’s nose, startling him and making him yelp out in surprise. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Suguru whispers, pressing little butterflies kisses all across Satoru’s face, making him giggle prettily, the sound trickling down Suguru’s spine like warm honey. “Wanna kiss you all the time,” Suguru says with a sigh, continuing to trail kisses along Satoru’s jaw, making his breath catch. “All the fucking time,” Suguru mouths against the corner of Satoru’s mouth, hovering above his lips, taking a look at his half-lidded eyes, wanting to close the gap so bad. 

But he doesn’t.

He maps his lips down Satoru’s neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed and wet kisses in his wake. Satoru’s breath catches every so often, soft whimpers spilling from his lips and going straight to Suguru’s cock. Pushing his more carnal thoughts to the side, Suguru nips at Satoru’s scent gland, eliciting a choked out moan that has his mind tipping more and more into more depraved territory. “Wanna scent you— God, I’ve never scented an alpha before!” Suguru growls, licking a stripe across Satoru’s scent gland, lapping at the oil that beads at the centre of the protruded flesh, the heady taste making his groin ache with renewed hunger. “Wanna strip you of your own scent and make you smell only of me. So that everyone knows—” Satoru whimpers at a rather rough nibble, throwing his head back and exposing his neck for Suguru to do as he pleases. His body goes lax in Suguru’s arms, pliant and soft, melting into Suguru’s arms.

“So that they all know you’re mine ,” Suguru continues, feeling high off Satoru’s scent, sucking at his scent gland like a starved man. “Oh god, what the fuck are you doing to me, Satoru? You’re driving me out of my mind. Fuck—” Suguru groans, biting hard into the junction between Satoru’s neck and shoulder, making him sob out in pain, a deliciously erotic sound that goes straight to Suguru’s dick. He kisses the reddening bite mark, licking at it, basking in the soft broken sounds that continue to tumble out of Satoru’s lips. It takes gargantuan effort for Suguru to hold himself back, but he manages to do it. Maybe he’s always been very strong, or maybe he’s just that far gone for Satoru.

“So yeah,” Suguru heaves out, sighing into the hollow of Satoru’s collarbone, resting there and willing his arousal to tone down so he can think with a clearer mind. “I can’t— won’t — do casual with you, Satoru. If you want us to fuck, you’re gonna have to want the rest of those things too. Because I want them.” Suguru pulls back slowly, looking back into Satoru’s eyes, searching for an answer. “And I want you to want them too.”

“Suguru—” Satoru stutters out, trying to blink the haze of arousal away and focus on Suguru, on his proposal. “Suguru, you can’t just fucking start scenting me and then just say something as serious as that— oh my god, I need some time for the blood from my dick to get back up here,” Satoru whines, gesturing at his head. “Fucking hell—”

“Ew, you’re so gross,” Suguru says with a chuckle. He rests his hands on Satoru’s shoulders, rubbing his thumb up and down his nape, massaging it. A bud of hope blooms in his heart, voice mellowing as he whispers out, “You can take all the time in the world, Satoru. I can wait forever.”

“Jesus Christ, are you always this cheesy when you’re horny?” Satoru groans, putting his hand up, but not stopping Suguru in any way. “I don’t need you to wait forever. I just needed to clear my mind a bit ‘cause it’s currently fixated on my urgent need to choke on your dick—”

“Satoru, what the fuck!”

“Hold on.” Satoru waves his hand, lips curling up into a lopsided grin, lazy like he’s still a little out of it, still very turned on. “Lemme just answer you right fucking now, Suguru.” Satoru’s hands curl into Suguru’s hair, fingers scraping against his scalp as he locks them in place. Suguru gulps, letting his hands wander down almost reflexively, resting securely in the nooks of Satoru’s hips, digging into the soft flesh there. 

“You mentioned a ton of things you want to do.” Satoru’s smile mellows out as he speaks, his lashes lowering, eyes glinting with adoration. Suguru’s breath catches in his throat, choking him with nerves. “But Suguru?” Satoru slowly raises his eyes and it feels like he’s looking straight into Suguru’s very soul. “Suguru,” he whispers, voice thick, flustered— anxious— Suguru wants to interrupt and tell him he has nothing to be afraid of, not with Suguru, never with Suguru. But he doesn’t. He just waits with bated breath, unblinking as he hangs on to Satoru’s every word.

“We already do most of those things,” Satoru says, knocking the wind right out of Suguru’s lungs, filling them instead with Satoru’s scent, vanilla, Satoru. Oh— oh. Suguru exhales, slow and ragged like he wants to hold on to the scent for longer. Satoru isn’t done speaking though, not by a long shot. “We eat out all the time— and I love the fancy restaurants you take me to when you get your paycheck from your part time job, but I still prefer your miso soup over all that fancy shit any day.” Satoru giggles; it’s airy, breathless. Much like how Suguru feels at the moment.

“And did you forget how we literally went over to your place for Christmas last year? Your mom loves me, Suguru— maybe even more than she cares for you.” Satoru winks at that and Suguru has to roll his eyes, trying to act nonchalant, all while pretending he’s okay, he’s fine, he’s not in the least bit overwhelmed. “I guess we don’t go to the movies that often, but that’s your fault.” Satoru pouts, tugging at Suguru’s hair a little harder and making him wince. “You always wanna watch something scary. You know I can’t handle horror—!”

“Pussy,” Suguru murmurs under his breath. “Ow—” 

“Fuck you. We’re gonna have to see if we can compromise on that,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes. “But yeah—” he clears his throat, loosening his grip on Suguru's hair, back to smiling all soft and sweet. “That’s how it is. We’re already most of the things you want for us if we were to cross the line, Suguru. We’re already all of that. There’s just a couple of other things left, right?” 

Suguru’s about to nod his head, about to open his mouth and say something. But before he can do anything, Satoru’s already grabbing his head and pulling him up, pressing their lips together and making Suguru’s brain short circuit almost instantly. Satoru’s lips are just as soft as Suguru’s been imagining for the past few days, a little chapped at the edges as they rub against his own. They kiss lazily, open mouthed and clumsy. Little giggles resonate in Suguru’s ears, and it’s a bit of a game chasing the sound even though it’s right in his grasp. The pace gets more fervent, heated, giggles turning to gasps and then into broken moans and grunts. 

Suguru’s hands dig into Satoru’s hips, dragging him as close as physically possible. Their crotches graze in the most delicious way, the friction making little stars burst behind Suguru’s eyes. He groans into Satoru’s mouth, slipping his tongue in and tasting him, lapping at the velvety warmth and making Satoru choke on his breath. Satoru’s fingers scrape at Suguru’s scalp, eliciting little dull sparks, igniting his bones as they continue to suck each other’s tongues, filthy and wet and fucking messy.

Satoru is the first to draw back, breathing unevenly as his hand slips down to push against Suguru’s chest. A low disgruntled rumble reverberates from Suguru’s throat— he doesn’t want them to part, doesn’t want to stop kissing Satoru, tasting him. Satoru whimpers, eyes scrunching up in pain as he pushes at Suguru’s chest with a bit more force. It takes a minute before he realises that he’s clawing into Satoru’s hips— hurting him. Dread fills his chest, chills him to the bones, making him loosen his grip immediately, rubbing his thumbs into the flesh.

“Satoru—” Suguru whispers hoarsely, voice breaking when he takes in the expression on Satoru’s  face. He’s flushed, eyes glossy, looking like he’s well and fully inebriated— scent drunk. But he’s rubbing his eyes, smearing his palms down his face in an attempt to become more lucid.

“Alright, so now we’ve kissed too, so that’s another one down.” Satoru’s voice is gravelly, like he’s been sucking dick— God, Suguru, not now! “And we can do all the rest, Suguru. It’ll be so easy, I swear. We can do everything you want us to do. I would—” Satoru pauses, swallowing harshly, shaking his head adamantly, in resolution. “I would never hurt you. You know that”

“Satoru.” Suguru immediately grabs Satoru’s face and presses a kiss against his forehead, gentle and fleeting. “Satoru, I know. I know!”

“So then, you should also know that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Not with me.” Satoru says, nuzzling into Suguru’s hand, smiling tenderly. “You can do whatever you want to me, Suguru. I’ll let you do anything and everything you want.”

That’s what breaks Suguru out of his spell. That’s what brings everything crashing down to the ground. Satoru said he could do whatever he wants. Satoru is being so vulnerable right now, just offering himself up on a platter for Suguru to take, take, take. But what if Suguru is only taking him because of less than pure reasons? What if Suguru is more selfish than he thinks? What if he’s taking advantage of Satoru and the fact that he’s an alpha who doesn’t need a knot— doesn’t need Suguru to give him something that’s been demanded from him for so long? 

“I know,” Suguru replies, inhaling sharply. “I know you’d never hurt me, Satoru. But I don't know if I’d be able to do the same. If you get hurt because of me, it would hurt me many times more than having my own heart broken.”

“There you go again” Satoru slaps his hands on Suguru’s, wincing when they hit his own cheeks. “You keep speaking in riddles, Suguru. You’ve been saying the most cryptic things all this time and I’m getting tired of listening to your whining— I’m tired of trying to understand you when it seems like you’re just beating around the bush ‘cause you’re a fucking coward. Just—” Satoru hisses through his teeth, glaring at Suguru straight on, little embers burning in the depths of his irises. “Just tell me straight up what the fucking problem is. I’m never gonna know if you don’t spell it out to me, Suguru.”

“The problem is that…” Suguru gulps, sweat beading at his brow. Satoru is right. He needs to be more straightforward about things and just strike the final blow. “I’m scared,” Suguru says, lowering his gaze because he’s afraid of looking at Satoru, afraid of seeing him get disappointed or hurt or— let down . “I’m scared of fetishising you, Satoru.” The words gouge out of Suguru’s mouth, ripping out a piece of his soul with them. 

“I’m scared that I’m feeling this way—” Suguru groans, pained and slow. “— because of what you said to me. Because you said you don’t take knots and I— I can’t knot.” Suguru’s breath stutters and bites into his lower lip in an attempt to stop it from trembling. “I’m scared that my sudden attraction towards you stems from knowing you will not want from me what everyone else always has— what I cannot deliver. I’m—” Suguru sighs, apologetic, heart breaking more and more with every word he utters.  “I’m scared if I’m feeling this way ‘cause I might see you as easy.”

Easy. 

The word hangs heavy in the air between them. Suguru wants to puke, his nerves frayed, his pulse racing in his eardrums. For a moment, he wishes he could go back to a few minutes ago, before he’d made that big speech. But he can’t. 

“Satoru—”

“You’re not fetishising me, Suguru.” Satoru slaps his hands over Suguru’s cheeks, loud and hard, making him yelp in pain. “You’re so fucking dense, I swear to god! You’re really testing my patience here.” Satoru scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he’s had enough. Suguru feels more than a little lost, still sick to his stomach as his head reels with a replay of everything he’d admitted. 

“Satoru, I’m serious—”

“You’re not fetishising me,” Satoru repeats, glowering at Suguru the way he does when Suguru forgets his laundry. “Being attracted to me and wanting to fuck me because of my sexual orientation doesn’t make you a bad guy, Suguru. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s pretty fucking great from where I’m standing.”

“You don’t get it—”

“Oh, I get it plenty!” Satoru claps his hands over Suguru’s cheek once again, making him whine, feeling the flesh sting, inflamed. “You’re just getting in your head and fucking things up for yourself, Suguru. If you were really fetishising me, you wouldn’t be concerned about whether your feelings were coming from a genuine place or not in the first place.” Satoru sighs, chest heaving. 

“But Satoru—”

“No, just listen to me!” Satoru whines, whining in indignation and causing Suguru to shrink back. Satoru looks like he’s had it up to here with him. But his annoyance is somehow endearing, reassuring. It makes Suguru feel a little less like a dick. “Just listen to me, Suguru.” 

Satoru lowers his voice again, trying to sound patient. “It’s okay to be attracted to me even if it’s just ‘cause I don’t need a knot like an omega does. It’s okay, Suguru, I promise. It doesn’t change the fact that you want to fuck me in the first place— that you care about me, that you want more. Heck, I didn’t show it but I was so scared when I decided to tell you about the way I am.” Satoru sighs, soft, breathy. “I was scared you’d be disgusted or something— that you’d be grossed out. That you’d change the way you saw me. And you did—” Satoru bursts into a soft smile. “But in the best way possible.”

“Satoru—” Suguru’s mouth goes dry, heart picking up pace, thudding against his rib cage like it wants to jump straight into Satoru’s arms. 

“Suguru, when I came out to you, you immediately started looking at me all different— you started looking at me like I was attractive . Like you’d only just noticed and you couldn’t take your eyes off me—” Satoru breaks off, forcing a laugh, blinking. His eyes are glossed over, like he’s tearing up and Suguru’s tearing up a bit too. 

“You made me feel desirable , Suguru,” Satoru continues, voice clipped, trembling with emotion. “Even now, when your scent is diffusing everywhere ‘cause you’re so fucking turned on— and knowing that it’s because of me … That makes me goddamn happy, over the moon. So yeah, you’re not fetishising me. You’re making me feel fucking great.”

“Oh,” Suguru murmurs, reduced to speechlessness. He just stares at Satoru, eyes wavering as he tries to gauge his feelings, to give himself some time for everything to sink in and make sense. 

He makes Satoru feel desirable.

Why, Satoru should feel desirable all the time, every time. But that’s not the point. He — Suguru— makes Satoru feel good— feel great . So it’s okay. It’s okay for Suguru to take a risk here, to make a move.

“Oh,” Suguru repeats again, rubbing the pad of his thumb under his eyes, chest squeezing when he feels the moisture collecting at the corners. “So it’s okay,” he parrots, rolling the words on his tongue as if testing out how they sound.  

“It’s okay, Suguru,” Satoru mirrors him, smiling soft and bright and welcoming like a lighthouse during a stormy night, guiding Suguru towards him, anchoring him in place. His eyes flutter close and he leans in closer, tugging Suguru towards him. “It’s okay.”

When they kiss, it’s slow and careful, like they’re testing the waters. Even though they’d already dipped their toes in a long time ago. But it’s different now. Less urgent, less heated and impulsive. It’s sensual yet sweet, warming Suguru all the way to his marrow. 

“Does this mean we can try— this? Us?” Satoru whispers against Suguru’s mouth, gasping when Suguru tugs his lower lip between his teeth. “Does this mean you’ll fuck me, Suguru?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Suguru groans, nibbling into Satoru’s lower lip, swallowing his pained yelp with a growl. There’s a familiar heat coming to life in his gut, sparking and spitting as it slowly propels him forward. “Don’t say things like that, Satoru. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Oh?” Satoru purrs, licking into Suguru’s mouth, sucking his tongue like he’s famished. “Then tell me, Suguru.” Satoru bats his eyelids, smacking his lips playfully. “What am I doing to you?”

“You really wanna know?” Suguru replies, pushing Satoru back against the couch, chuckling when he yelps and falls back against the cushion, squealing as he settles on his back. He’s heaving, lips parted, spit slick and swollen from Suguru’s incessant nibbling. His eyes are lidded, pupils dilated with lust, glittering up at Suguru as if beckoning him closer. He’s beautiful like this, Suguru thinks, sprawled out beneath him, pliant and welcoming. All for Suguru— only for Suguru. 

Suguru licks his lips suggestively, eyes hooded as he peers down at Satoru. “How about I show you, Satoru?” 

Satoru’s jaw drops, blinking in incredulity. Then, all of a sudden, he’s scrambling over his feet, making garbled high pitched noises as he flips himself over and arches his back all in the matter of mere seconds. Suguru watches, astonished, as Satoru presents himself, ass up, stomach down, hands fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, struggling to yank them down. 

It’s a ridiculous sight to behold and Suguru can’t help but release a chuckle, low and deep, still very much aroused. He smacks Satoru’s ass, making him yelp out at the sudden sting. Satoru is looking at Suguru over his back, scandalised by the blow. But he doesn’t look too displeased, doesn’t look any less desperate for cock.

“Suguru, what the hell—?”

“Not here,” Suguru says, smacking Satoru’s ass once again on the same spot he just hit. Satoru starts shuffling to his feet to get away from Suguru’s relentless spanks. It’s cute. “I’m not gonna fuck you on the couch, Satoru.”

“What?!” Satoru whines. He’s now seated with his legs crossed, leaning beseechingly into Suguru’s space, lower lip jutting out in a distressed pout. “Why not?” he whines. “We already cleared everything up, Suguru. And you said we can give this a shot. Wait—” Satoru’s face pales the slightest bit, his hands clutching onto Suguru’s sleeve in sudden horror. “Did you change your mind? Do you not wanna fuck me anymore—?”

“I didn’t change my mind.” Suguru tries to keep a straight face, tries not to coo at how endearing Satoru is acting. But it’s a bit of a damper to see Satoru jumping to the worst conclusion. Suguru wishes he would be more confident in himself. 

“I still most definitely wanna fuck you,” Suguru whispers, voice husky, hands going back to knead into Satoru’s hips, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of denim. “Wanna fuck you so good, Satoru.”

“Please!” Satoru whines, reaching out and palming at Suguru’s cock, startling him for a moment. His mouth goes dry as Satoru presses his hand down, applying pressure. Suguru grunts, feels his cock plump up, straining against the confines of his boxers and jeans, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. 

“Please, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, bringing his free hand to press against his own cock, palming himself through his shorts, breath hitching as he throws his head back and moans unabashedly. “Please fuck me—”

“Not here, Satoru!” Suguru manages to hiss through his teeth. It takes great restraint for him to swat Satoru’s hand off his fly, before rising to his feet. “Wanna fuck you properly.” He smiles down at Satoru, gesturing towards his bedroom. “On a bed.”

Satoru rolls his eyes at that, slumping back defeatedly. “That’s so unnecessary, Suguru, I swear to God—” Satoru mumbles under his breath. “It’s not like I’m some virginal bride being manhandled in the haystack for their first time—”

“What kind of porn have you even been getting into?” Suguru raises his eyebrow in question, the smallest bit concerned for Satoru. “And no, it’s not unnecessary. I want to do things properly— thoroughly. ” He swallows his spit. “Wanna take my time with you, Satoru.”

“Oh,” Satoru squeaks out. “ Oh— okay. I mean— I still think the couch is just as good but…” He jumps onto his feet, dusting his knees off dramatically. “But if the bed will make you feel gentlemanly or some sorta shit, then sure. Anything you want. Let’s head to the bedroom then.”

So saying, Satoru grabs Suguru’s hand and tugs him down the hall. It’s ridiculous the way he stumbles in his haste, eager to get his brains fucked out. Suguru sniggers, squeezing Satoru’s hand as he trails behind. His chest warms over when he feels how cold Satoru’s palm is— icy cold, even when the room heater is cranked up. It’s because he’s anxious. Contrary to how light-hearted he’s projecting his mood to be, deep down inside, Satoru is just as nervous about it all as Suguru is. That’s oddly reassuring to know and it somehow manages to make Suguru feel a little less nervous himself. 

“At last!” Satoru groans when they finally enter his bedroom. He lets go of Suguru’s hand and makes a beeline for the bed, jumping onto the mattress and landing with a thud, the wind knocked out of his lungs for a brief moment. He turns around, laying on his back, parting his legs as he stares at Suguru from under his lashes. 

“C’mere, Suguru,” Satoru slurs, thrusting his hips up in the air and holding them there. Suguru can only watch, mouth drying up almost instantly, as Satoru slowly peels his shorts down, shimmying his hips as he slips them down to his ankles. And then, he’s flinging them hastily across the room. With a pleased huff, he rolls over, jutting his bare ass out and wiggling his hips teasingly.

It’s hard to look anywhere but at Satoru’s bare ass cheeks, perky and supple. A faint pink tint blooms where they swell and Suguru can’t help but wonder if it’s from his earlier spank. His dick throbs at the very thought. Suguru snaps out of his thoughts when it registers for him that Satoru’s ass is bare. And if that’s not the sexiest thing—

“You’re not—” Suguru’s voice breaks off pathetically. He’s so turned on that it’s crazy— it’s concerning. “You’re not wearing underwear,” Suguru chokes out, head spinning, brain melting down to the singular need to take Satoru right this instant. Suguru groans, clenching his eyes shut, swiping his hand down his face. “God, Satoru! You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

Satoru’s dick twitches as if in reply, laying flat up against his stomach, a bead of precome glimmering enticingly at the tip. Suguru’s mouth waters as he takes in the sight, noting how it’s pretty average— just long enough, but thin. A perverse sense of dumb alpha pride settles in Suguru’s chest from knowing that he is much better endowed. Even though he can not form a knot.

“I’m at home,” Satoru says, like explaining things will cause Suguru to feel any less feral. “I don’t wear any underwear when I’m home. You know that, Suguru.” He’s pouting the whole time too. Ah fuck, he has no business looking so adorable when he’s butt naked waist down, sprawled out on his bed like a meal for Suguru to devour.

“God—” Suguru groans, dipping his knee into the edge of the mattress, before slowly crawling across it towards Satoru. “What am I going to do with you?” Suguru sighs, caging Satoru down beneath him. Satoru arches his back eagerly, hitching his thighs up and spreading them as far apart as they will go. He lowers his lashes, parting his lips, before going absolutely pliant as he melts into the sheets as he waits for Suguru to take him.

“I—” Satoru licks his lips, smacking them together nervously. “I go commando when I come hang out at your place sometimes too, you know? When we’re just watching Netflix and chilling… No homo.” He winks at that, sticking his tongue out playfully, very aware of what kind of effect he’s having on Suguru.

Suguru’s jaw drops in surprise. “Oh. You—” He doesn’t finish his sentence, mind providing a montage of Satoru in an array of his signature miniscule shorts over time, the muscles of his thighs rippling as he swings his feet across Suguru’s lap ever so casually. 

Suguru nearly chokes on his spit as the vivid imagery clouds his mind. He wonders if he would’ve noticed had he paid enough attention— if he’d searched for the shadows where the denim rose up— God, their Netflix and chill sessions would’ve taken new meaning then. Or would they have? Suguru gulps down the lump in his throat, wondering how differently things would’ve turned out if he had looked— actually looked — at Satoru back then. But that’s a whole bunch of ‘maybe’ s which will remain futile no matter how much he fixates on them. Right now, he should focus on the way Satoru is writhing beneath him, panting wantonly on the sheets.

“You’re so pretty, Satoru.” There is reverence in Suguru’s words, an awe seated deep in the vestiges of his heart, etching itself there permanently. Satoru smiles at him, lazy, wrecked. He nudges Suguru closer by digging the soles of his feet into Suguru’s clothed ass, grinding them in and driving Suguru forward with a laugh. 

“Impatient, are we?” The laughter dies on Suguru’s tongue the moment he parts Satoru’s cheeks and takes a look at his hole. It’s gaping, tender and stretched out. And glistening wet. Suguru groans, deep and guttural, like he’s been kicked in the groin— and it feels like it too, a sudden bolt of arousal shooting straight down to his dick like a bolt of electricity. Sending him reeling in the most delicious way. 

“You’re—” Suguru licks his lips, squinting to try and make sense of things. He presses the pad of his index finger against Satoru’s hole, applying pressure, gasping when his finger just slips in all the way to the knuckle. It’s fascinating to watch the rim stretch around his digit, snug and scorching hot, velvety and wet and— God , Suguru wants to plunge right in, then and there, just tear Satoru apart. “You’re wet,” Suguru manages to spit out, voice lower than it’s ever been in his entire life. 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, smirking, rolling his hips and pressing his ass down onto Suguru’s hand, taking his finger impossibly deeper, all the way in. “I am wet,” he provides, with no help at all.

“Stop that—” Suguru groans, not sure what it is exactly that he’s asking Satoru to stop. But he feels like his dick is about to damn right explode any moment and he hasn’t even taken it out yet. Instead, he adds another finger into Satoru’s ass, swallowing his groan at just how easily the hole gives, sucking his finger in like a vacuum. A soft purring sound slips from Satoru’s mouth. He’s rolling his hips, riding Suguru’s fingers, pushing back like he wants more— and oh does Suguru have so much more to give him.

“Was playing with myself before you got here, Suguru,” Satoru says, bringing Suguru out of his depraved thoughts. “You made me—” Satoru moans lewdly when Suguru adds a third finger, still with no resistance. “You got me all worked up. Couldn’t stop thinking about being stuffed full with—” Satoru reaches out and palms at Suguru’s cock, startling him and making him retract his fingers in surprise. Not that Satoru will let him; it’s as if his ass has a vice grip on Suguru’s fingers. “So big.” Satoru sighs, fondling Suguru’s cock through his pants, groaning when he feels it twitch beneath his palm. “Kept imagining it was you while fucking myself silly. Bet you’d feel so much better than my stupid blue dildo.”

“Blue, huh?” Suguru smiles, feeling warm all over when he wonders whether Satoru’s dildo is the same shade of blue as his eyes; that’d be kind of cute. Then, Suguru’s mind shifts to how Satoru fucked himself while imagining it was Suguru’s dick instead of his blue silicone phallus, and suddenly, he’s not smiling anymore. He scissors his fingers, scraping them against Satoru’s walls, before plunging them forward. This time, he grazes the small protruded gland nestled deep inside— jackpot!

“Oh fuck—” A shudder wracks through Satoru’s frame and he throws his head back and mewls, eyes screwed shut as he chases Suguru’s fingers. “Please— I’m all lubed up, Suguru. Just fuck me already!”

“Wanna see you,” Suguru drawls out, relentless as he fucks Satoru on his fingers, grinding them straight into his prostate, tortuously slow but deliberate and intense. “Wanna see you fuck yourself.”

“Should I?” Satoru stutters out, gyrating his hips. His rhythm is sloppy now and he’s desperate. He wants to come. But not yet. “I’d let you. I’d let you watch me as many times as you want, Suguru. But not right now—” Satoru starts fiddling with Suguru’s zipper, cursing under his breath at the way his fingers tremble uselessly. “Fucking hell, just—”

It’s the desperation in Satoru’s voice that finally prompts Suguru to give in. He slowly retracts his fingers from inside Satoru, but not before grazing his prostate one last time. Satoru whines the moment Suguru’s fingers slip out of him— he chases them with his hips, a sob at his lips, disappointment written all over his face. Suguru almost has a mind to indulge him, to make him come just from his fingers before he fucks him with his cock. But not this time, not today. Not when Suguru’s dick feels like it’s going to go blue if he doesn’t slip inside Satoru any time soon. 

With a snap of his button, he’s pulling his pants down, not even bothering to unzip it in his haste. He shuffles so that he can yank them all the way down, before kicking them off with his feet. Satoru whines beneath him, making a beeline for his dick. But Suguru swats his hands away, clicking his tongue and shaking his head no. He raises his hands and slips off his shirt, before getting to work on his boxers. There’s a wet patch in the front, no doubt from how turned on he is. And Satoru is looking straight at it, eyes gleaming like diamonds, bright and curious. Lips parted in awe, wet and swollen and hungry. His scent diffuses everywhere, a sharp vanilla that makes Suguru feel drunk out of his mind. 

“Take off your shirt,” Suguru whispers, slipping his hand under the elastic of his boxers and tugging at it. Satoru nods enthusiastically, all but ripping his shirt off and flinging it across the room in his haste. Suguru bursts into laughter, wheezing when Satoru smacks his shoulder with a grumbled “fuck off”.

“You’re ridiculous,” Suguru mutters under his breath, before snapping the elastic and tugging it down. His cock springs free, standing tall against his stomach, leaking from the flushed tip. He winces at the sting of the cold air against his inflamed flesh, subconsciously grabbing his cock by the base and jerking it off lazily.

“Fuck—” Satoru makes an aborted sound that’s a mixture of a moan and a squeal. He’s flushed all the way to his chest, his nipples standing perky and erect. So turned on. “Fuck, Suguru. That’s a fucking monster you’ve been hiding in your pants.”

“You like what you see?” Suguru hums in question, feeling oddly bashful, god knows what for. He scratches the back of his neck, before sitting on his haunches, stroking his dick as he watches Satoru’s eyes follow the motion of his hands, fascinated.

“ Like it?” Satoru’s voice is husky, breaking off at the end. He brings his hands down to palm at his own neglected cock, going straight for the tip, thumbing it almost aggressively. He’s focussed on Suguru’s cock, mouth open, this close to drooling onto the sheets. He reaches out with his free hand and tentatively grabs Suguru’s cock, making him hiss at the touch. Satoru groans, enclosing his fist around the girth before joining Suguru’s hand in jerking it off. 

“Oh god, it’s so fucking fat—” Satoru groans, jerking Suguru sloppily, slender fingers shaking with his nerves. He lets go to cup Suguru’s balls, squeezing the flesh and making Suguru yelp. “So heavy— god, Suguru, want you to cream me so bad—”

Suguru shudders at Satoru’s admission, slowly peeling his hands off before he makes a grab for his legs. Satoru whimpers at his touch, opening his legs, raising his ass and spreading his cheeks. Suguru takes it all in, mouth agape, stroking his aching dick. 

“Please—” Satoru wheezes through his teeth, pushing his fingers into his hole and stretching it out. “Please fuck me—”

Something inside Suguru snaps then. Maybe it’s because of the tears that bead in Satoru’s eyes. Or maybe it’s his own arousal that’s been building and building for what feels like forever. Or maybe it’s just the eventual progression of things. Whatever it is, Suguru doesn’t deny Satoru— or himself— any longer. He positions himself between Satoru’s legs, grabbing onto his hips, even as Satoru wraps his legs around Suguru’s waist and ushers him forward.

“Okay, I’ll give you what you want,” Suguru whispers, grabbing his cock by the base and rubbing it along the cleft of Satoru’s ass, from his hole up to his balls. “Wait,” he says, pausing even as he struggles to clear his head and grasp onto rationality. “We need a condom—”

“Nah,” Satoru provides, huffing his cheeks, grinding his heels into Suguru’s ass as if urging him to go on. “Don’t need one. You can’t knot—” Suguru winces at that, but Satoru doesn’t let him wallow in his self pity for too long. “— and I don’t get knocked up like an omega would.” Satoru smirks, jostling his hips, gasping when Suguru’s cockhead catches on his rim before slipping off. “You don’t need a condom with me, Suguru. And if you’re worried about being safe, then don’t be. I got myself tested last month and haven’t had sex since then. And as for you—” With a shaky inhale, Satoru whispers, “I trust you.”

Suguru’s heart melts, his entire body feeling light as a feather as he basks in Satoru’s affection. He shakes his head, blinking away the sting in his eyes. Now’s not the time to get all soft, not when he’s hard as an iron rod down there— oh, the irony.

“Mmmm,” Suguru hums, tightening his grip on Satoru’s thigh and gently inching forward. He hears the wind get knocked from Satoru’s lungs, a garbled sound that goes straight to his gut. He presses his cock in, inch by inch, wincing at just how tight Satoru is. “Is it okay, Satoru? Do you need more lube—?”

“No, just— faster!” Satoru whines, crossing his ankles behind Suguru’s back and heaving, pressing him closer. With a startle, Suguru loses his balance and falls forward, slamming his dick straight into Satoru’s ass. The scream that Satoru lets out is ear splitting. His entire body goes lax as he orgasms, knot blowing up at the base of his cock and pumping come out in ropes onto his chest.

“Oh fuck—” Satoru hiccups, legs buckling and slipping down Suguru’s back. He continues to ejaculate, spurt after spurt of come squirting out of his cock. Suguru watches in shock, only coming to his senses once Satoru starts twitching beneath him, mouth open and drooling onto the sheets.

“Satoru?” Suguru asks, moving to pull out. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t you dare!” Satoru squeals, scrambling to wrap his shuddering legs around Suguru’s waist once again and force him forward. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Suguru—” he hiccups, gasping as another spurt of come dribbles out of his cock. “Keep giving it to me— Want it harder! Please —”

Suguru watches, perplexed. But also aroused beyond belief. He nods in resignation, carefully pulling his cock out to the tip, making Satoru sob and writhe beneath him. And then, he thrusts his hips, pistoning all the way in and hitting Satoru’s prostate spot on.

“Oh god—” Satoru screams, ribbons of come staining the space between them. Suguru moans at the sight and the scent, head feeling fuzzy like it’s filled with cotton. He grips Satoru’s hips and pulls him down, making him curse out in shock. “Suguru, please—”

It’s a fascinating sight to behold. The way Satoru’s red rim engulfs his cock, stretched thin to its limit. And the way Satoru ejaculates in spurts every time Suguru thrusts into him. Like they’re in sync. 

“You’re gonna tear me up, Suguru,” Satoru sobs, broken “uh uh uh” s being punched out of his chest with every slap of Suguru’s balls against his ass. “So— so fucking big —”

The praise goes straight to Suguru’s cock, making him twitch inside Satoru, balls heavy and aching to bust his nut. He pulls Satoru down so that his cock is nestled impossibly deep inside. One of Satoru’s hands grapple for Suguru’s shoulders, nails digging right in and breaking skin. The sting shoots up his spine, only making him pummel his cock in deeper, harder, rougher. 

“I can feel you right here, Suguru!” Satoru moans, trailing his free hand down to his stomach, swirling his fingers through the wetness there, before settling on his abdomen. “Ah fuck, I can see you right there.”

There’s a small swell which rises and deflates in resonance with how Suguru thrusts his hips. It’s like he’s carving the shape of his cock inside of Satoru, creating a chasm that only he can fill. The thought makes Suguru feel heady with renewed lust, snapping his cock harder and faster, pace brutal, bordering on painful. Satoru hums, letting his hands drop to the side, limp as they curl into the soft satin. He’s writhing on the sheets, a pretty picture, skin flushed, lips red, stomach glossy with the sheen of his ejaculate— heck, he’s still coming in stripes, although much less voluminous now when compared to his first orgasm of the night. 

A sudden coiling in his gut makes Suguru startle out of his stupor. His thrusts turn sloppy, unsteady. And he gulps trying to hold himself back from crossing the edge, slowing down and making to pull out. Satoru snaps his head up, eyes wide in distress. He brings his legs back up, steeling them around Suguru and freezing him in place.

“Suguru, what’s wrong—?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Suguru forces a smile, squeezing Satoru’s thigh reassuringly. “Just  pulling out ‘cause I’m about to come, Satoru.”

“Huh?” Satoru scoffs, tugging Suguru back down with his heels, making the both of them gasp out loud when Suguru slips and tumbles onto Satoru, knocking the air out of his lungs. Suguru’s cock presses back in and slots into place right against Satoru’s prostate. “Oh shit—” Satoru mewls, throwing his head back as he spasms around Suguru’s dick, making him wince at the sudden tightness. 

“You don’t have to pull out, Suguru. You can come inside me— I want you to come inside me.” Satoru licks his lips, running his hand down to press against his rim, right along the periphery where Suguru’s cock stretches him out. “Want you to knock me up, Suguru. Think you can do that?”

Suguru startles, feeling his cock throb violently inside Satoru. As if feeling the erratic pulse against his walls, Satoru bursts into little giggles, voice breaking on a moan when Suguru snaps his hips, grinding against his abused prostate. He peels his eyes open, meeting Suguru’s gaze and smiling sheepishly, all while Suguru just continues to stare, wracking his brain for a proper response— for any response. 

It’s just dirty talk, light and silly. Suguru knows this. Want you to knock me up, Suguru . It’s ironic coming from Satoru to Suguru. Because not only is Suguru impotent, they’re also both alphas. But instead of feeling— wrong , it somehow manages to turn Suguru on instead. The picture in his head is vivid. Satoru with a rounded belly, smiling so prettily, cheeks flushed with a pregnant glow. And there’s Suguru on his knees, pressing little butterflies kisses against his rounded belly. The vision shifts to a scene of them playing with their kids. Satoru giggling so prettily as he holds their pup in his arms, beckoning for Suguru to come closer. Suguru’s throat clogs up with longing— for a future he can never have. But one he yearns for so badly. He wants all that. With Satoru.

“Yeah,” he whispers, pushing Satoru’s knees all the way up to his chest and bending him in half, before bearing down and snapping his hips against Satoru’s. “Gonna breed you, Satoru,” Suguru growls against Satoru’s ear, nipping at the lobe before laving at it with his tongue. “Gonna fill you with pups— my pups.” Satoru squeals beneath him, squeezing around him like a vice. 

That’s what finally gets Suguru to tip over, the pressure snapping as he fills Satoru up. With a wretched groan, Suguru bites down onto Satoru’s scent gland, breaking skin and tasting the coppery tang of his blood mixed with the sweet scent of vanilla. He feels Satoru shuddering beneath him, a fresh batch of come painting their chests before he collapses onto the sheets. When it starts to get too much because of the oversensitivity, Suguru gently pulls out of Satoru, whimpering when his cock slips out of his rim. Almost immediately, he keels over to the side, exhaustion settling into his very bones. 

“Fuck, Suguru…” Satoru’s voice sounds faraway and Suguru turns around to take in the sleepy expression on his face, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting in a soft yawn. “The sex was fucking mind blowing. You made me feel so good. Was it good for you too?”

“Yeah,” Suguru smiles, heart feeling full to the brim. “It was great, Satoru. You were perfect.” He turns around on his side, grabbing Satoru by the waist and tugging him closer. Satoru is pliant under his touch, allowing himself to be hugged by Suguru from the back, his back aligned with Suguru’s front. It’s a bit awkward, considering how Satoru is a few inches taller and he’s usually the big spoon whenever they’ve shared a bed in the past. But things are different now and they’re going to make it work somehow. 

Suguru sighs, nuzzling into the back of Satoru’s neck, rubbing his nose into his nape and inhaling his scent. He trails his lips down to the side, chest squeezing in apology when he feels the wound inflicted by his impulsive bite.

“Sorry, Satoru,” Suguru whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against the wound. “Can’t believe I hurt you, shit—”

“It’s okay, Suguru,” Satoru says, words slurred with sleep. He shimmies back, pulling Suguru’s hand around him and tucking it under his waist. “I like it when it hurts sometimes. It’s the good kind of hurt, you know?” He yawns, smacking his lips together before mumbling the rest of his words drowsily, “It’s always a good kind of everything with you, Suguru.”

Suguru feels his eyes sting with tears and he clenches them shut, biting into his lower lip so he won’t make any pathetic sounds. He doesn’t want to scare Satoru away, even though he knows nothing will. This is different. Satoru is different from everyone else. 

Suguru sighs against Satoru’s neck, smiling when Satoru trembles in response. Satoru’s breath is even, chest rising and falling rhythmically with sleep. Suguru pulls him closer into his arms, pressing his lips against Satoru’s scent gland and inhaling sharply. The scent rushes into his lungs, flooding his senses and grounding him. He kisses the small wound inflicted by his harsh biting, mulling over his thoughts. 

There’s a part of him that wishes he could mate Satoru. If Satoru had been an omega or if it had been possible to mark another alpha, then that reckless bite would’ve passed as a mating mark and the two of them would’ve been bonded for life. 

But there’s another part of Suguru that’s glad it isn’t the case. He’s glad that Satoru isn’t forcefully bound to him by a careless mistake, glad there are no dire consequences to face. 

Suguru exhales shakily, feeling the weight of his exhaustion slowly sink in and pull him under. When he falls asleep, there is a warmth in his arms and a restfullness in his heart that he hasn’t ever felt before. 

And his last lucid thought is that it’s all because of Satoru.

*****

The bed is empty when Suguru wakes up. Cold on the side where Satoru was laying before. Suguru gulps, throat dry, chest numb. He stretches his hand out, clutching thin air as he takes in the wrinkled side of the bed, empty. His heart drops, hissing through his teeth as he feels the wind getting knocked out of his lungs. 

It isn’t new for Suguru to wake up alone; he’s woken up to an empty bed on countless occasions before. Nursing a broken heart after disappointing a knot-hungry omega is not foreign territory for Suguru. But this is. Nursing a broken heart because of Satoru is the very thing he was wary of from the start. Suguru feels his throat clog up in panic, the corners of his eyes stinging with the onslaught of fresh tears. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— Satoru left him. Satoru left him because he’s disappointed, because he doesn’t want him. Because he doesn’t want Suguru. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— Satoru left him— Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—

The door swings open, jolting Suguru out of his thoughts and making him jump upright. He blinks as Satoru slowly makes his way inside, balancing two large trays in his hands. He huffs and puffs as he maneuvres around the door, before kicking it shut with one foot. Then he’s scurrying forward, a perpetual pout painting his face, eyes screwed together in concentration as he keeps the trays in perfect balance. When he reaches the bed, he gently lowers the trays, careful not to spill them before placing them on the mattress.

“There!” Satoru says, pumping his fists triumphantly, before climbing onto the bed. He crawls across to the empty side of the bed, before sitting cross legged and tugging one of the trays towards him. Suguru notices absentmindedly that Satoru is clad in a worn out t-shirt, and nothing else. If he wasn’t so anxious, he would get hard all over again. But the post nut clarity has finally started to sink into him, leaving him high strung.

“Made us some toast and oolong,” Satoru says, gathering the other tray and pushing it towards Suguru. “Breakfast in bed for my baby daddy.” He chuckles, winking cheekily. Suguru wants to kiss him again. It’s so easy to forget everything and just want Satoru. God, he’s so fucking whipped and they’ve only just slept together one time.

“Thanks,” Suguru exhales, staring unblinkingly at the bowl for a beat too long. He gulps, clearing his throat and drawing Satoru’s attention towards him. “You don’t usually cook though,” Suguru  says, forcing out a laugh and trying to make small talk. Because he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s as if he doesn’t know anything anymore. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, Suguru takes his cup of tea and slowly brings it to his lips, sipping it slowly and sighing as the warmth from the tea spreads through his chest and relaxes his nerves. “You could’ve woken me up and got me to do it instead, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Satoru sighs, grabbing his bowl and a pair of chopsticks. He snaps them apart and digs into his japchae, eyes still looking a little far away. “Remember how you said you wanted to do a bunch of things besides just fucking?”

Suguru all but chokes on his drink, spitting it out and sputtering dramatically. He nods his head, even as Satoru scolds him and rubs his back soothingly. “Yeah, I remember,” Suguru manages to choke out, cheeks flushed from the vivid memory of it all. And everything that followed.

“Well, I already pointed out how we already do a lot of those things you wanted like going to the movies and eating out and stuff, right?”

Suguru nods at that, getting a little confused at where the conversation is going.

“Well,” Satoru says, picking some noodles with his chopsticks and holding it before him. “Since we already do all those things even as friends, I wanted to try doing something new. Something special. Something—” Satoru’s voice cracks and he pauses for a bit, a bright flush spreading across his cheeks and ears. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ears, looking away from Suguru as he stutters in embarrassment. “I wanted to do something that’s more than just friends. Something like a lover, Suguru. Like a— like a boyfriend.”

Little violins start to play in Suguru’s head, the kind of sweet music that he wants to play at his wedding someday. With Satoru, hopefully. “Oh,” He whispers, putting his bowl back down on the tray, before turning towards Satoru. He frowns when he sees how Satoru’s hand is clenched in the sheets, grip harsh, knuckles white with the force. He slowly places his hand over Satoru’s, tugging his fingers loose. “Boyfriend?” he whispers, voice thick and heavy with emotion.

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, shying a glance at Suguru. “Only if that’s okay, Suguru! I don’t want to scare you—”

“It’s more than okay, Satoru,” Suguru replies without missing a beat, lips instantly curling up into a gentle smile. “I’d really like that for us. Boyfriends. It has a nice ring to it.”

Satoru giggles at that, eyes twinkling with mirth. A similar kind of mirth fills Suguru up as well, spreading across his chest and warming up his very soul. There it is again, that vivid vision. Of him and Satoru and their family. Suguru swallows, a wave of bittersweet yearning washing over him and making his toes curl in want.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me though, Satoru?” Suguru whispers, barely braving himself to look Satoru in the eyes. Satoru recoils in shock, before straightening up in annoyance. But Suguru has more to say; he has many more insecurities to address. “I can never mate you, Satoru. And I can never give you children.  I can’t give you either of those things no matter how much I want to. I just physically can’t —” Suguru’s throat clogs up, tight with emotion. With a hurt that will exist for as long he continues to exist. 

Satoru scoffs, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Suguru, I swear to god,” Satoru groans out. “You seem to forget that I can’t give you those things either. It’s a two way street, yeah? Sure, this relationship has shortcomings when you look at it.” Suguru feels a bitter taste on his tongue as his mind wanders to his impotency at that. “But—” Satoru sighs, reaching his hand out to grab Suguru’s and intertwine their fingers together against the mattress. “But I have them too. And they’re just the same. Just as bad as yours, just as human . Heck, I should be asking you to reconsider all this with me too. Because I'm flawed as well—"

"No, you're not," Suguru's reply is immediate, coming out of his lips like he's on autopilot. "You're perfect, Satoru."

Satoru smiles at that, blushing prettily, "Yeah, well, you're perfect too, Suguru. You're perfect to me." Satoru's breath catches and then he's crying, the tears rolling down his cheeks like little crystals on satin— so pretty, but Suguru decides then that he doesn't want to see Satoru cry ever again. Ever again. 

"Besides, it's not like we can't have those things no matter what," Satoru continues through barely muffled sniffles. Suguru rubs his thumb under Satoru's eyes, one after the other, swiping his tears away and making him smile tenderly. So pretty, so so pretty. Perfect. Perfect to Suguru. Perfect in every sense of the word. 

"If ever things get serious enough between us that we decide we want to take the next step…" Which they will, Suguru wants to say. They will. It’s a promise, a guarantee. "If—” when “— that happens, we can alway figure out our own way to mark each other. Our own way of getting bonded. Maybe we can get tattoos—" Suguru smiles at the thought, knowing how deadly scared Satoru is of needles. But it's endearing to know that he cares enough to suggest such a thing. "— or matching bracelets or necklaces or something. We can find a way, Suguru. I just know we can."

Suguru nods, leaning forward and pressing a quiet kiss on the tip of Satoru's nose, fleeting, gentle, filled with adoration. 

"And about the kids," Satoru continues with just as much gusto as before. "We can always adopt, Suguru. We can have our own family. I want two daughters and a cat. Maybe even two cats!" Satoru looks at Suguru expectantly, eyes twinkling. Suguru can almost see the pictures running through Satoru’s mind, a picture perfect family— their family. "That's something we can definitely consider, Suguru."

"Yeah," Suguru sighs wistfully, shoulders feeling somehow lighter than they were a few moments ago. "Yeah, you're right, Satoru."

"So you see?" Satoru whispers, rubbing Suguru's nose with his own. "We'll be okay, Suguru. We'll be more than okay— we'll be great ."

"Mmhmm, we'll be okay." Suguru hums, tilting his head to the side and gently slotting his lips with Satoru's, carefully grabbing the back of his head and tugging him closer, smiling against his lips when he sighs and goes all soft and pliant under his touch. 

They'll be okay, Suguru repeats to himself like a mantra being chanted on loop in his head. They'll be okay, for sure. 

Right now, for Suguru at least, everything's finally starting to become okay. And it's all thanks to Satoru. 

Fin