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The very last thing Satoru expects when stepping into his and Suguru's shared dorm room is to find the other boy sprawled naked across the bed on his side of the room, hand working fervently over his own cock.
For a moment, he’s certain he’s finally cracked under the pressure of schoolwork—skipping right past the mental break and diving headfirst into hallucinations—and he squeezes his eyes shut, praying that when he opens them, Suguru will be fully clothed, decent, and with his hands nowhere near his cock.
Unfortunately the world doesn’t bend to Satoru's will, and when he blinks his eyes open again, Suguru is still very much naked, with his dick still very much in his hand and before he can process it, his body reacts on autopilot, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to rattle the hinges.
There’s a split second, just as the door swings shut, where he wonders why he’s on the wrong side of it—before his brain bluescreens at the sight of Suguru braced against the mattress, thrusting into his fist, seemingly indifferent to his roommate standing only a few feet away.
"What the hell are you doing?" he shrieks, his voice so shrill it grates on his own ears, and Suguru responds with an exasperated huff.
"I think it's quite clear what I'm doing, Satoru," he snarks, voice a husky tenor, and Satoru feels the heat rush to his cheeks as his name rolls off the other boy's tongue, his eyes darting around the room in a desperate attempt to look anywhere but at his naked roommate sprawled out like a particularly obscene buffet.
"Okay, but why are you—why are you not—why?" he finally sputters, the words tumbling out in a rushed, jumbled mess. He knows he’s making no sense, but he just can’t wrap his head around it—he’s overwhelmed, and maybe a little horny, but mostly just overwhelmed.
"Rut,” comes Suguru’s choked-out grunt, his fist still working vigorously over his dick, and Satoru finds himself a little too distracted by the way he uses the precum dribbling from the tip to slick his shaft, the wet squelch of skin-on-skin filling the otherwise quiet room.
"Huh?" he asks dumbly, finally tearing his eyes away, only to meet Suguru's gaze—and the dark intensity there is enough to make his mouth run dry.
"I’m in rut," Suguru elaborates, a little breathless, and Satoru nods absently, still staring blankly at him, before the words finally register, and his eyes bulge out of his head.
"You're in what!?"
"Rut," Suguru repeats for the third time, looking like he might strangle Satoru if he asks again. "The thing that happens to alphas every three months or so—you know, to prepare our bodies for—"
“I know what a rut is, thanks," Satoru interrupts quickly, unwilling to sit through an impromptu anatomy lesson.
"Just—I’m confused why you’re here and not in one of the rooms off campus for this, or, better yet, why you didn’t just take your fucking suppressants when you felt something like this coming on."
He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but he’s too bewildered by the situation to care; at least the other boy has the decency to look properly chastised, his eyes shifting away as his hand stutters to a stop.
"It caught me off guard—I thought I had a couple more weeks, so I wasn’t prepared," he begins, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"And I tried calling to warn you not to come back to the dorm, but you didn’t pick up," he adds, and Satoru winces, the memory of ignoring that call to finish his final lap in Mario Kart hitting him harder than the blue shell Shoko used to snatch up first place from him.
"So now we’re stuck in here until it passes," Suguru finishes, and Satoru’s head snaps toward him so fast his neck cracks.
"We?" he snaps incredulously. "Please explain to me how the fuck is this a we situation? Last I checked, I’m not the one in rut."
It seems his roommate has completely lost the plot.
“We,” Satoru mocks quietly under his breath in annoyance, rubbing furiously at his temples. He can feel a headache brewing and would very much like to wake up from this shitshow of a dream he’s having—preferably yesterday.
Across from him, Suguru looks equally as annoyed, his cock already back in hand, jaw tight, and teeth clenched.
"You’ve been standing here for over ten minutes, which means my pheromones are all over you," he bites out, and Satoru’s eye twitches when he resumes stroking himself with maddening ease. "If you walk out that door, you’ll affect any omega you come across."
"So yes, Satoru," he continues, making sure to inflect the utmost mockery into the name, "it’s very much a ‘we’ situation. Deal with it."
He finishes this with a sharp, deliberate jerk of his cock that sends Satoru’s blood pressure skyrocketing, and he breathes hard through his nose, fighting the uncomfortable warmth crawling through his veins.
"Fuck," he whispers, dragging his hands roughly down his face as Suguru starts fucking his hand in earnest again. He shuffles over to his own bed, sitting on the edge with a groan.
“You couldn’t have told me this earlier?” he whines, fingers threading through his hair, a million frantic thoughts running through his head all at once.
Maybe he could camp out in the closet or climb out the window—and if he managed to survive the twenty-foot drop, he could try to book it to Shoko’s dorm without running into anyone, but then he'd probably have to climb through her window too, and considering she lives on the fourth floor...
Frowning, he races through his options, each more absurd than the last, until a loud moan of his name yanks him back to reality. His head snaps up, and there’s Suguru, propped up on his elbows, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Satoru," he moans again, a bit breathless, his pupils so blown his eyes look black, and Satoru feels a jolt run through him.
“Please…”
It’s barely a whisper, but the desperation in his voice sends Satoru reeling.
This isn’t the Suguru he knows.
This is a total and complete stranger; he’s never seen the other boy lose his composure. Always so calm and unshaken, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that makes it seem like nothing could ever touch him.
And yet, here he is—begging for Satoru's help, his voice so needy it leaves him fumbling.
"Shit, okay—uh," he blurts, rising to his feet. The sudden movement sends the sunglasses perched on his head sliding down to the tip of his nose, prompting him to snatch them off and toss them carelessly onto the bed behind him.
There are a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea running through his head—a thousand things that could go wrong—but the soft, pleading whimper Suguru lets out shatters any lingering caution, especially as Satoru Jr. chooses that exact moment to remind him just how painfully hard he is.
He’s an idiot, he thinks as he crosses the short distance between their beds, stopping right in front of Suguru.
A weak, weak, horny idiot.
A horny idiot who’s definitely going to regret this.
Probably.
Maybe.
(Hopefully not.)
The other boy watches him like a hawk, eyes roaming over his figure, drinking him in, and Satoru swallows hard, suddenly very nervous.
“Um…” he begins, earlier confidence evaporating now that he’s within arm’s reach. “So, what do you need me to—”
The question dies in his throat with a startled squeak as Suguru surges forward, yanking him down onto the bed and wrapping a firm arm around his waist, rolling them over in one fluid motion.
"Just need you," he rasps, nipping at Satoru's pulse point as his hands move to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling briefly before tearing the fabric apart with a sharp pull, the sound of buttons clattering onto the hardwood floor echoing in the room.
"Hey!" Satoru snaps, affronted, but his protests are quickly smothered by the press of Suguru's lips against his own, the other boy's tongue slipping in as he works the ruined shirt off his shoulders.
Suguru kisses him like he wants to devour him whole, his tongue tangling with Satoru’s and exploring the roof of his mouth as their hips grind together, and Satoru feels his brain melt right out of his ears when Suguru cradles his face, tilting it to pull him closer, deeper.
He breathes heavily through his nose, the need for air becoming more and more urgent with each passing second, but Suguru refuses to part from his lips, sucking eagerly on his tongue and swallowing every soft moan that slips free.
Just when the burning in his lungs feels like it's going to consume him, Suguru finally pulls away, leaving Satoru’s lips bruised and swollen as he gulps in greedy breaths, a thin trail of saliva still linking their mouths.
"S'guru," he slurs, slightly light headed, as his roommate mouths down his jaw and neck, leaving a trail of red marks in his wake.
He feels teeth grazing the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a tongue dragging slowly along the length of his collarbone, and his hands scrabble wildly at Suguru’s shoulders, desperate for something to ground him as the other boy continues rocking his hips against him.
Then he gasps sharply when Suguru shifts lower, pressing a wet kiss over his right nipple, the flat of his tongue dragging deliberately over the sensitive nub, and Satoru’s fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly.
Suguru makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a growl, and before Satoru can catch his breath, the other boy’s mouth closes around him, teeth grazing his nipple just enough to send a jolt of heat racing through his body.
At the same time, he pinches Satoru’s other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and he has to bite down on his knuckles to muffle the needy whimper threatening to spill out.
Suguru doesn’t seem to like that, though; releasing the nub to grab his wrist and pin it firmly above his head.
"Lemme hear you," he murmurs, releasing his wrist and moving even lower.
A startled squeak escapes Satoru when the other boy bites lightly on his hip, his hands flying up to hide his face in flushed mortification as his pants and underwear are tugged off and discarded on the floor, embarrassed little mumbles falling from his lips.
The mumbles morph into a long, drawn-out whine as Suguru’s breath ghosts over the flushed, dripping head of his cock, his hips bucking instinctively, chasing the sensation.
“Beautiful,” Suguru breathes, his hands pulling Satoru’s thighs further apart, leaving him flushed and squirming beneath the weight of his gaze.
“Just look at you,” he continues, his fingers trailing along Satoru’s inner thighs before brushing the head of his cock to gather a bead of precum, drawing another moan from him as pleasure shoots up his spine and leaves his toes curling. “So wet for me.”
His voice is thick with arousal, and Satoru’s eyelids flutter, hips jerking helplessly when Suguru leans down to give a kittenish lick to the tip, humming in satisfaction.
“So good,” he croons, the tip of his nose skimming along Satoru’s length as he simply breathes him in, and the sob that rips from Satoru’s throat is raw, desperate.
“Suguru, please,” he begs, unsure of what exactly he’s asking for, until a delicious, wet heat envelops his cock and a high-pitched keen escapes him, his hips snapping upward.
The grip on his thighs tightens, holding him still as Suguru bobs his head up and down; it’s so wet, so warm, and he writhes against the mattress, fingers tangled in his roommate’s hair, the strands sliding between his fingers like silk.
Suguru has to be secretly taking some kind of underground cock-sucking classes or something, so really, Satoru thinks to himself, really he can’t be blamed for his orgasm approaching so fast, okay.
“Ah, ah—fuck, Suguru—m’ gonna—” he whimpers, his voice foreign to his own ears. Suguru hums around him, ignoring him completely, his pace never faltering, and Satoru can feel the pressure building fast, the urge to cum drawing closer and closer.
"Suguru," he chokes out again, this time with more urgency, his fingers yanking desperately at the other boy’s hair, but Suguru bats his hand away.
"Suguru," he gasps, his voice breaking with desperation. "I’m gonna—you need to—"
He cries out again, loud and guttural, as he cums, and Suguru takes him deeper, swallowing around him until there's nothing left.
When he finally pulls off, it’s with an obscene pop, his lips swollen and red, amber eyes hooded, and Satoru feels like he might faint—the sight of him, so thoroughly debauched, almost too much for his brain to process.
Collapsing against the pillows, he lies boneless on the bed, chest heaving in a desperate bid to catch his breath, only for his spine to bow off the mattress with a broken wail as two wet fingers push impatiently past his rim.
"Too—too much," he sobs, his hips writhing as Suguru thrusts his fingers, curling them expertly. "Jus' came—"
Satoru mewls softly as Suguru shushes him, his eyes rolling back when a third finger is added, curling perfectly to press against his prostate.
Suguru pays no mind to the pleading moans spilling from him, his movements unrelenting as he rubs at the sensitive spot over and over again.
When a fourth finger slips inside, Satoru thinks he’s going to die, the sensation overwhelming but so, so good.
He can’t stop the string of curses falling from his lips as Suguru scissors his fingers, stretching him open—until, without warning, they’re gone, leaving him clenching around nothing.
Wasting no time, Suguru presses Satoru’s legs to his chest, the head of his cock nudging insistently at his entrance. Before slowly, he sinks in, both of them groaning in unison as Satoru’s body yields, taking him inch by inch, the stretch too much and perfect all at once.
“Fuck, Toru,” he groans, and Satoru can’t breathe, can’t think—his mind blissfully blank as Suguru bottoms out.
A broken cry rips from his throat as his thighs spasm in Suguru’s hold before he’s cumming for the second time, his body clenching violently around Suguru, who moans and presses even deeper into him.
“So tight,” he grits out, and Satoru whimpers, the pressure mounting too quickly, his entire body feeling like it's on fire. He scrabbles at the sheets, hands sliding up to grip the pillows behind his head, clutching them desperately for support.
And then, Suguru starts to move, his hips rocking in and out, fucking these small little noises out of him, each one more higher pitched than the last, and Satoru is sure he's died and gone to heaven.
He's vaguely aware of Suguru's lips on his skin, peppering wet kisses across his cheeks, nose, and mouth, his words murmured against his jaw, but it's all just white noise, the sensation of being so full, so stretched, and fucked too much for his mind to process.
“Feel so good,” Suguru rasps low against his throat, the husky timbre sending a shiver down Satoru’s spine as his head falls back, lolling uselessly against the pillow while Suguru fucks him in earnest, hips snapping hard against his own in a relentless, punishing rhythm.
The bed squeaks beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust, but Satoru can’t bring himself to care as Suguru angles himself deeper, wrenching gasps and soft cries from his lips.
“You sound so pretty,” he hums, his hips slamming forward, and Satoru feels his vision whiten out as the other boy’s cock hits his prostate dead-on, a strangled scream tearing from his throat. “Wanna hear every sound you make.”
His voice is a low vibration against Satoru’s ear as he sets a brutal pace, each thrust wringing out choked sobs that seem to drive him to go even harder, as if turning up the proverbial volume, his own grunts and moans mixing in tandem Satoru’s.
He feels like he’s floating, the only things anchoring him to reality being the sharp bite of Suguru’s fingers digging into his thighs and the relentless, hot slide of his cock.
“Cum again for me, baby, one more time,” Suguru orders, and Satoru shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"I can't," he slurs, his voice cracking. "S’too much—I can’t."
"You can," Suguru urges, his pace slowing, his cock dragging deliberately against Satoru’s walls as a hand comes down to pump at his already oversensitive dick. "One more time, I know you can."
"S'guru," Satoru sobs, eyes brimming with tears, the heat coiling tighter in his belly until he feels like he’s going to snap.
"Cum."
It’s a command, and Satoru’s body obeys without hesitation, arching off the bed with a soundless scream as he cums dry, a distant buzzing filling his ears.
Above him, Suguru groans, pitching forward and nearly folding him in half before burying himself inside him, his teeth sinking into the pale curve of his shoulder in a perfect mating hold.
A swelling starts at the base of his cock, and Satoru flinches, a sharp pain jolting up his spine as Suguru’s hips keep thrusting, pushing his growing knot further inside him.
Instinctively, his hips lurch away, and he tries to push off the bed, ready to drag himself away, only to freeze at the warning growl that tears through the air.
"Stay still,” comes the low rumble at the juncture of his neck, and a small part of his brain wonders distantly if this is how a deer feels when it realizes it’s trapped.
Suguru’s body is tense above him, teeth sinking just a fraction deeper into his shoulder as his thrusts grow shallower, the knot swelling larger with every movement of his hips.
It’s uncomfortable as hell but Satoru forces himself to stay still, his breath hitching as the knot stretches him impossibly wider before Suguru gives a final, hard thrust, burying himself as far as he can go and spilling deep inside him with a groan.
It’s warm, and there’s a lot more of it than Satoru thought there’d be and he sighs, squirming faintly as it keeps coming, the feeling leaving him a bit dazed.
Gentle hands cradle his face, and he looks up into soft honey colored eyes.
"You did so well, baby," Suguru murmurs, brushing sweat-damp hair from his forehead and peppering his face with kisses. "You were perfect."
"So good for me," he adds, nuzzling his jaw, hips rolling gently against him.
Satoru stares blankly at the ceiling, mouth slack, unable to stifle his small noises as Suguru’s knot grinds relentlessly against his prostate.
"M' full," he slurs, his hips jerking indecisively, caught between retreating and pressing closer, and Suguru chuckles, nipping at his ear.
"I know, you're okay, I've got you," he coos, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks.
They lay there for what feels like hours, Suguru stroking his sides, murmuring sweet nothings, still buried balls deep inside him, until his knot finally begins to shrink, allowing him to pull out.
Satoru lets out a soft sound of discomfort at the loss but says nothing as Suguru rolls off him. He feels the other boy snuggling up to his back, pulling him closer, and is just about to drift off when his leg is suddenly lifted up, and Suguru slides right back inside.
"Suguru—" he scolds, or at least he tries to, the other boy’s name coming out more of a breathless gasp than any form of reproachful reprimand.
"It’s okay," Suguru whispers, his voice soft, as his thrusts start off slow and gentle. "Let me take care of you, Toru."
His hand slides over his belly, rubbing it reverently. "Fill you up again."
Satoru’s head falls backwards, a soft moan escaping his lips as Suguru grinds into him, he’s too sensitive—each small movement setting his nerves alight with both pain and pleasure.
The hand on his belly slips lower to his hip, and Satoru lets Suguru strong-arm him onto his lap, his back pressed to his chest.
"Fuck, Toru," Suguru gasps, thrusting up into him harder. "You're so gorgeous like this."
Satoru can't reply, his head lolling against Suguru's shoulder, his hand weakly grasping at the one tightening around his hips, while Suguru's other hand loosely holds his neck, tilting it to nip and kiss his throat.
"Wanna fuck a baby into you," Suguru groans, his hips slamming into Satoru's ass. "Fuck you full of pups, make you all fat and pretty for me."
Satoru’s head feels empty, like he’s floating on another plane of existence, and all he can do is moan as Suguru fucks into him, his words barely breaking through the fog in his mind.
"Would you like that, baby?" he continues, his hand moving to his belly. "Getting all big and round with my babies?"
“I can’t—pregnant... I’m not—” Satoru stammers, his voice faltering as Suguru’s words struggle to make sense in his mind, his enormous cock hindering any chance of clear thought.
“Suguru... Suguru’s dick—it’s...” he trails off, the words slipping away, his mind too cloudy to form anything coherent.
“It’s what?” Suguru presses, nuzzling the side of Satoru’s face, his thrusts slowing, growing deeper and more deliberate.
Satoru keens, long and drawn-out, clenching tightly around him, and Suguru chuckles softly.
His hand slides from Satoru’s neck to grab his wrist, guiding it to his stomach.
"You feel that?" he purrs, and Satoru falters, breath hitching as his fingers brush over the bulge of Suguru’s cock pressing through his belly, a small bump rising with every deep thrust. "Feel how deep I am?"
A sharp, high-pitched whine pierces the air, and it takes Satoru a moment to realize it’s coming from him.
"I want to hear you say it," Suguru breathes, his voice a low rasp, and Satoru chokes on a strangled sound, drool slipping from the corner of his open mouth as Suguru cants his hips, thrusting steadily, each movement pressing the head of his cock deeper, the bulge visible with every plunge.
“Tell me how deep my dick is, baby. How deep I’m fucking you. Say it for me,” Suguru whispers.
"S’guru’s deep," Satoru sobs, his voice cracking.
Suguru groans, his hips stuttering, grip tightening on Satoru’s body as he presses a kiss to his shoulder, teeth scraping over his skin before sucking a bruise into it.
"You’re so fucking perfect," he pants. "Say it again, Toru."
"Deep—fuck! So fucking deep!" Satoru babbles, his body trembling uncontrollably, thighs shaking as he clenches tightly around the cock rearranging his guts. "Can feel you in my throat," he whimpers, his eyes fluttering closed as his head tips back.
He’s so close—teetering on the brink. He just needs a little more—a final push, and then—
Suguru’s hand, which had been resting lightly on Satoru’s stomach, suddenly presses down.
And Satoru chokes out a yell, his release hitting him all at once. He comes untouched, his body convulsing as his walls tighten around Suguru, gripping him tightly, milking him for all he’s worth.
He doesn’t even register Suguru cumming until the heat floods him, and then he’s sobbing out a prayer to the man upstairs when he realizes the bastard is still hard.
"One more," Suguru pants, his breath hot against Satoru's neck as he pushes him onto his stomach, pinning him in place and Satoru weakly tries to wriggle free, only for Suguru's hands to grip his hips and hold him firmly as he grinds against his ass.
"Suguru," he begs, voice raw, but all he gets in response is a soft kiss to the nape of his neck.
"One more time, baby," Suguru murmurs, pulling back before slamming in again.
And Satoru's vision blurs, his thoughts dissolving into static—he’s going to die in this bed, he thinks faintly, half-delirious.
Heh, death by sex.
That definitely wasn’t on his bingo card.
…
He blacks out somewhere around round five—or was it six? Seven? He’s not sure anymore.
Everything after that comes in flashes: Suguru’s weight pressing down on him, kisses scattered across every part of his body; a bottle of water tipped down his throat, forcing him to drink; fingers pressing against his hole, testing if he’s ready to take him again—before the cycle repeats itself.
Satoru couldn’t tell you exactly when Suguru’s rut ends, only that, at last, it does—finally.
He wakes slowly, blinking blearily at the ceiling, gradually becoming aware of Suguru laying on top of him—the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his soft snores brushing against his neck.
He tries to move and winces, his lower half one giant throbbing ache that radiates from the inside out, a grimace twisting his face as the wetness between his thighs reminds him of the cum still drying down the back of his legs.
Above him, Suguru makes a small noise of complaint, nuzzling further into his neck, and Satoru’s eyes drift slowly, lazily, from the blank expanse of the ceiling down to the figure sprawled across his chest.
He’ll kill him.
Kill him and cut his big dumb dick off too.
Unaware of his murderous intentions, Suguru sighs softly, nose scrunching cutely as he settles more firmly against him, and Satoru huffs, sinking back into the mattress, absentmindedly twirling long strands of hair around his fingers.
He’ll kill him.
After a nap.
And maybe a bath.
A very long, very hot, very thorough bath.
For now though, he thinks, sliding an arm around the other boy to pull him closer, eyes drifting shut once more—Suguru makes a pretty damn good blanket.
Best to keep him around for a little while longer.