Chapter Text
Jude Bellingham opened the door and slumped into his hotel room. It was quiet, an odd sort of heaviness hanging in the air. The ride back to the hotel had been subdued. He stood for a moment in the square of light spilling from the open doorway. He’d lost. He’d let them all down and now-
Here he sighed. Shit happened. You win some you lose some or whatever trite bullshit people liked to say. He’d drive himself mad dwelling on it. He slammed the door shut and moved over to the collection of bottles on the dressing table, gifts and the perks of duty free. He’d planned to crack open the champagne when the team had won. Fuck it, if he was going to drown his sorrows it might as well be with Cristal.
He looked at himself, briefly, in the dressing table mirror and then froze. Because behind him there was someone on the bed staring back at him, eyes glowing in the half light. A very large someone with blonde hair spilling out of his ponytail. Jude gave a dry swallow.
‘Haaland?’ he said, scarcely able to believe it. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Norway-‘
Haaland rose, light from the open window flitting over his form as he padded over to him. Jude stared up at him, bottle still in his hand, the back of his neck prickling. He held himself very still as the other man leaned in and buried his nose into the crook of his neck.
‘You smell sad,’ he murmured, speaking into his skin. ‘Don’t be sad, vennen. You fought bravely.’
Alpha scent clouded Jude’s nostrils, woodsmoke and salt. He set down the bottle with a clunk.
‘Wasn’t a fight,’ he tried, hearing the shake in his own voice. ‘Just-just football-‘
His voice cracked on the last word as Haaland scraped his teeth over his skin, making arousal blaze over his skin like a struck match.
He felt everything tighten, his muscles pulling taut, his cock waking up with a dizzying surge. Haaland reached down, hands cupping his ass, and lifted him as though he weighed nothing. He carried him over to the bed, still nipping at his neck, Jude’s legs tangled around his waist, and deposited him on the sheets, scattering cushions.
‘I missed you,’ he murmured. ‘I got straight back on the plane. Couldn’t leave you, out there alone, unguarded.’
Jude hissed as the sharp points of Haaland’s teeth dug into his skin, sucking his swollen scent gland into his mouth. His hips bucked, his cock aching for stimulation. Haaland pulled back. His large hands skimmed over his body, pulling and squeezing, until he reached the edge of his joggers. Jude moved to help him and Haaland gasped at the sight of his fat cock escaping to slap against his abs, head flushed and leaking. He pulled down his joggers, settling between his thighs to grasp him in one large palm, cocks sliding sticky against each other. He stroked him slow, thumb drifting over his dripping sensitive head, and making Jude writhe. He whimpered, lust slipping down his spine, his cock bucking in the other man’s tight grip. He could feel himself, wet and needy, his hole begging to be filled. His scent clouded the room; the sharp metallic scent of desperate omega.
‘Don’t make me beg,’ he gasped.
Haaland chuckled. ‘But you look so pretty when you do.’
His other hand traced a path down Jude’s flushed face. When it spoke again the low drag of his voice made Jude shudder, his cock twitching.
‘Present for me.’
Jude turned, face down, ass up. He was already wet, slick sliding down his thighs, his hole hollow and eager. He remembered the very first time they’d done this, in the team showers, teeth clashing, Haaland so large he could still feel him the next day. He whined as he felt the fat head of his alpha’s cock nudge up against his rim, and pushed back against him. Haaland stilled, hands gripping the meat of his hips.
‘Go on,’ he said softly.
‘Please fuck me.’ Jude’s voice came out in a gasping rush. ‘Please.’
Haaland chuckled. ‘You English always have such lovely manners.’
His hands tightened. Jude groaned as he slowly pushed inside, nerves lighting up from the inside out, his neglected cock throbbing between his legs. Almost immediately Haaland began to pound him, hard, heavy strokes that made Jude’s eyes roll back. He hissed and dug his teeth into the sheets, feeling himself flutter on the thick length of Haaland’s cock. Every hard shove felt like a crashing wave of pleasure, every part of him submerged. He forgot all about the match, every thought driven out of his head by the rock of his alpha’s hips.
Haaland arched over him, wrenching his jaw around to shove his tongue into his mouth, messy and possessive, spit sliding down their chins. Jude could taste the oily tang of his scent glands on his tongue. The alpha’s thrusts slowed, he began to tease him, holding him open on his throbbing length, making Jude moan. His own cock pulsed hot, but braced on his hands he had no way to reach for it. He pulled away from Haaland’s mouth, gasping, all at once very aware of the weight of the other man on top of him, their rucked up t-shirts, his heavy alpha scent clouding his lungs.
‘Can I come,’ he panted.
‘Not yet,’ said Haaland.
Wrapping an arm around him he pulled him up and onto his knees, while his other hand skimmed down Jude’s stomach, tantalisingly close to his straining cock. He groaned, head flopping back, as Haaland began to fuck into him anew, Jude’s dripping, twitching hole squelching with every hard thrust. Pleasure raked over every nerve, his slick hole squeezing around his alpha’s thick cock, his swollen prick pulsing in time to his galloping heart.
‘Please,’ he gabbled, reached back to dig a hand into one blonde dusted thigh. ‘Please.’
Haaland dug his teeth into his neck, pain curling with pleasure. Jude could feel his swollen knot pressing up against his rim. He nodded. He groaned as Haaland pushed inside, stretching him impossibly open and pressing right up against his sweet spot. White lights flickered across his eyes. Haaland’s teeth dug into his neck as he spent himself with a growl, heat blossoming down low. The sensation pushed Jude over the edge. Cock jumping against his belly he came untouched, splattering hot and white across the sheets as he throbbed, feeling as though he were drowning in pleasure. Haaland gasped as he squeezed around him, coaxing more spend from his twitching cock.
They tumbled onto the bed together. Haaland still quivering in his insides, his teeth still buried in his neck until he finally pried them free, blood hot and wet running down Jude's neck. He felt as though he were melting; Haaland gently lapping at the blood he’d spilt, his hand squeezing his belly.
‘Now do you feel better, vennen?’
With Haaland’s cock still buried in him and his tongue still lashing against his skin it was a struggle for Jude to pull his thoughts back. He felt his spent cock give another valiant twitch, and arched his back, grinding back against his alpha.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, eyeing the champagne from across the room. ‘You might need to cheer me up again.’