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It’s disgustingly hot out.
Satoru groans, shading his face with his hand and squinting even behind his sunglasses. He blinks hard, trying to adjust to the blinding sunlight as he plops down next to Suguru in the grass.
“I do not understand why you insist on eating out here when it’s so hot. I’m fuckin’ melting,” Satoru complains. He sheds the outer layer of his uniform and shoves up the sleeves of his shirt. “I’m also blind now, not that you care.”
“You’re absolutely right, I don’t care.” The fondness in Suguru’s tone betrays him. “Maybe if you went outside more often you wouldn’t be such a baby about it,” Suguru teases, bumping their arms together as he passes Satoru a drink.
For all of his talk, Suguru is sweating, and the corner of the scent blocking patch on his wrist is peeling up. Satoru inhales sharply, catching the faintest scent of the other alpha. He drops the bottle he’s been handed, grabbing Suguru’s wrist. Suguru gasps, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Satoru…” The entire world pinpoints in Satoru’s vision to just him and Suguru, and the edge of this stupid patch that Satoru peels further with a gentle rub of his thumb. And god, Suguru smells so fucking good. He always does. Satoru can’t get enough of it, enough of Suguru.
Satoru tears the patch off entirely, bringing Suguru’s wrist up to his face to nuzzle at the scent gland there. Spice and citrus and something so Suguru fills Satoru’s senses, and he closes his eyes to bask in it further. Another strong hand comes up to grab Satoru by his shoulder, drifting up to pull at the patch on his neck. Suguru tugs Satoru forward, and neither is entirely sure who is removing what scent patch on who, but all at once they’re crumpled in a pile, forgotten on the ground.
Suguru is more gentle, rubbing their cheeks together and nosing down Satoru’s throat as he scents him. Satoru, as always, is far more wild and greedy as he does the same, nipping at Suguru’s jaw and pressing open-mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach. Their scents mix and tangle, Satoru’s sweet rain pushing against Suguru’s warmth to send fire across Satoru’s skin.
This isn’t what Satoru is supposed to be doing.
He’s been told his entire life that the most enticing thing for him as an alpha should be the scent of some pretty little omega. That someday he’d have to shape up, settle down, find someone who could stand him, and carry on the Gojo bloodline. The only problem was that the only person he could possibly imagine being with forever or who could even care about him for that long, and would, was Suguru.
An alpha.
But there was simply no one else that matched up out of any of the other people Satoru had met in the years since he’d presented unusually early. Suguru’s strength, his voice, his body, the way he laughed, the way it felt like he knew Satoru better than Satoru himself. Satoru couldn’t care less about the world or anyone’s expectations, as long as he had Suguru.
Satoru would be lying if he said he was surprised when Suguru had presented as an alpha eight months ago, and he’d also be lying if he said he’d been disappointed. He didn’t care if Suguru wasn’t some perfect omega, he just wanted Suguru.
It’ll always be Suguru.
Who, at the moment, has shoved both of his hands up Satoru’s shirt, running his hands over Satoru’s chest and stomach.
“Satoru,” the alpha purrs. “We have some free time, you know.” Suguru’s fingers dance along Satoru’s waistband, and when did he take his hair down? God, he’s gorgeous .
“Yeah,” Satoru manages. “Yeah, whatcha got in mind?” This has been so good, Suguru’s near insatiable appetite overriding a lot of his usual reasonable qualities. Satoru loves it, but the fact that his boyfriend is so willing to jump his bones in the middle of the day (and outside at that!) is still almost too much.
Suguru hums, leaning back to glance around. He gets up quickly, dragging Satoru up and after him. Satoru is more than willing to follow Suguru just about anywhere right now, which turns out to be a wise choice as he finds himself up against a wall well away from any nosy classmates or teachers. Suguru kisses him, a little messy, and Satoru busies himself undoing Suguru’s uniform buttons.
“Fuck- Suguru, baby,” Satoru gasps between kisses, smiling against Suguru’s mouth as the other alpha tugs at his hair. “I want-“
“What?” Suguru nips at Satoru’s jaw. “What is it, Alpha? You want to fuck me?” He’s teasing, one hand on Satoru’s hip no doubt leaving a bruise as he grinds against him.
“ Yes,” Satoru moans. “God, yes. C’mon, Suguru, you’re killing me.” Suguru chuckles, stepping back just enough to work Satoru’s pants open.
“You know, Satoru, ” Suguru says, in that honey sweet voice he uses only for Satoru, who groans. “You almost sound like an omega right now. So needy.”
“Fuck you,” Satoru gasps, but there’s not any bite in it. Suguru has freed Satoru’s cock from his suddenly far too tight uniform pants, working his fist over it with slick that Satoru would prefer not to know the origins of.
“How about I make you a deal?” Suguru says, entirely too casually. “If I let you fuck me right now, and you do a good enough job…” Satoru shivers as Suguru presses a hot kiss to the scent gland on his neck. “Next time I’ll bitch you into a nice, pretty omega. Would you like that, Satoru?” It doesn’t really matter if he’s being serious or if it’s an empty threat born of Suguru’s newly presented alpha brain high on lust, but it feels like Satoru got hit with lightning. He’s pretty sure that’s not possible. He wants Suguru to try anyway.
“Deal. But only if you’ll moan like one first,” Satoru answers. Suguru kisses him, clicking their teeth together in his force.
“Deal,” Suguru murmurs.
Satoru turns them, shoving Suguru up against the wall. He’s excited; it’s hard to keep his strength in check. Suguru can take it though; they both know he can. Satoru yanks Suguru’s pants down, just enough to gain access to him. He runs his fingers against Suguru’s hole, surprised to make contact with cool metal. He pulls the plug out and presses it into Suguru’s hand.
“And you call me desperate,” Satoru chides, lining himself up against the other alpha’s ass.
“I didn’t call you desperate- shit-“ Suguru’s argument cuts off in a low moan as Satoru shoves his dick into him in one quick slide. He pauses, waiting for Suguru to adjust and give him a green light.
“I called you needy,” Suguru finally pants, so Satoru gives himself the green light.
Suguru’s long hair makes for a good handhold, spilling over Satoru’s pale fingers as he fucks into him probably a little too harshly. Suguru makes soft moans and gasps, pretty little sounds that drive Satoru crazy. He isn’t going to last long like this, drunk on Suguru’s spiced citrus scent and the feel of him clenching around his cock. One of them is whining- Satoru realizes with less shame than he should that it’s him.
“Suguru,” Satoru moans, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s neck. “Baby, please, fuck-“ Satoru’s hips stutter as he feels Suguru tighten around him. He whines, long and low in Suguru’s ear. “Suguru, Alpha, can I cum?”
“Asking- oh-“ Suguru's voice is strained, shaky. They’re both close, Satoru knows that much. “Asking me like you’re already an omega, are you?” Suguru spits the question out like it’s physically difficult to do so. Satoru has no idea how he’s managed any snark at all, honestly. He’s personally been reduced to babbling and whimpering Suguru’s name into his ear, and he isn’t sure where he ends and Suguru starts.
“ Satoru-!” Suguru cries out, arching his back as Satoru buries himself impossibly deeper. Suguru’s scent spikes sharply, overwhelming him, and Satoru chokes on a moan as his entire world turns white.
His vision returns along with the horrible sensation of being unbearably hot and sweaty. Satoru pulls out, wincing at the way cum spills out of Suguru.
“Sorry,” Satoru manages, moments later after they’ve both managed to do some version of cleaning up and straightening their clothes. “For, uhh…”
“For finishing in me?” Suguru supplies, tying his hair back up neatly. “You’ll be making it up to me.” Satoru grins at him.
“We’ll see,” he says, and Suguru rolls his eyes as he starts back off towards their classes and actual boring responsibilities.
“I know you will. I’ll hold you to it,” Suguru teases over his shoulder. Satoru is hot, and sweaty, and exhausted, and the last thing he wants to do is go to class again, but Suguru’s gravity draws him after him.
“Sure you will,” Satoru shoots back, fixing his sunglasses and shoving Suguru’s shoulder. Suguru snorts, shoving him back and taking off in a run, shouting something back at him about not covering for Satoru if he’s late to class. Satoru’s entire being aches with fondness as he starts after him.
I think… I’m in love with Suguru.
The realization is somehow not a surprise to him. Satoru decides to tell him later, and takes off running after Suguru. He has all the time in the world to fess up, and right now he has a petty footrace to win. They shout little insults at each other and laugh, sweat stinging their eyes as they vow to beat the other to class, as though there’s some great prize to doing so. Satoru feels so free, so alive. The longing in the pit of his stomach fades into something deeper as he catches up to Suguru. His pretty, kind, incredible Suguru. Satoru finds that he doesn't mind crossing the threshold second, if it means seeing that smile meant just for him afterwards. Suguru's gaze is so fond, looking at him as though Satoru is worth more than just his Six Eyes or Infinity. As he takes his seat next to Suguru, for the first time ever, he starts to believe that.
Satoru thinks he’ll chase Suguru Geto forever.