Chapter Text
Hearing the sound of the whistle at the end of a game is always a strange feeling. It's one that Jude knows well enough now after playing football for most of his life, having been on the side of both the winning and losing team hundreds of times.
Yet nothing prepares him for the moment when the shrill sound fills his ears. The responding roar from the Argentinian fans echoes around the stadium, his legs trembling from the overexertion of running up and down the pitch for over ninety minutes. His heart clenches as he looks out at the stands, only to be met by the devastated faces of the England supporters, the silence from the sea of red and white haunting.
It was a brutal game. The two sides battled against each other relentlessly for the entirety of the first half, bodies slamming together in a desperate bid to take control of the ball. Jude wasn't opposed to a little roughhousing on the field; in fact, he was always up for a little push and shove, but this was too much. He'd struggled to hold back a snarl as he was forced to the ground by two defenders, one of the Argentinian players landing on top of him and pinning him down between his shoulder blades for a few seconds until the English attack was snuffed out due to his absence upfield. The man then made a point of scenting the air, flashing Jude a knowing smirk before he jumped up and left the white-kitted alpha on the grass.
It continued like this for the remainder of the match, Jude's boot barely able to brush the ball before he was jumped by the opposition, their arms wrapped tight around his frame to pull him away. One particular incident had him unconsciously baring his teeth. A tanned hand had shoved him face-first into the ground after a failed tackle; Jude's cheek pressed against the pitch as he struggled to wriggle out from the other man's grip. The alpha was unable to stop his canines from flashing at the man above him, not missing the glint in the other player's eye due to his submissive position. The Argentinian then quickly scurried off to complain about his threat, the referee giving Jude a warning for his 'inappropriate alpha behaviour'.
He had already felt angsty before stepping onto the pitch, Kane taking the young alpha aside in the tunnel to check on him, noting the sweat already sitting on his brow. Jude's eye twitched in annoyance as the captain reached up to check his temperature, Pickford's eyebrow arching at his display of attitude. He rolled his eyes dramatically at Harry's fussing, chalking it up to the blazing afternoon sun and the anxiety of the match ahead before pushing past the older man, ignoring the twist of dread he felt in his chest.
Gossip in the football community wasn't uncommon, with entire profiles and news agencies dedicated to snooping around players' personal lives, ready to leak anything that might get them a juicy front-page scoop, and unfortunately, Jude's secondary gender was a frequent topic of discussion.
He'd run out of fingers if he were asked to count the number of times the tabloids had questioned him about the whispers of him hiding his true identity, Jude having to fake a pleasant smile as he dispelled the accusations with a laugh. God, did it get on his nerves.
There was one main contributing factor to the rumours circulating about him: his scent.
Jude had heard on numerous occasions how sweet he smelled, his candied pheromones leaning more towards those of an omega instead of the traditional scent of an alpha. It wasn't unusual for his teammates to scent him because of this, nosing at his neck whenever they were given the chance, his unique smell capturing the attention of whoever caught a whiff of him. He'd considered wearing scent patches in the past, but a certain blond-haired alpha had dispelled those thoughts back when he was still playing for Dortmund.
Even without this, Jude had always stood out from the other alphas around him. Whether that was because of his softer features, bratty nature, or aversion to walking around like some hulking brute of a man, he wasn't sure. What he knew for certain, though, was that his stature was nothing short of absolute alpha perfection. Tall, athletic, and broad-shouldered, with taut muscles and a strong frame. It was one of the reasons why the cameras around every stadium were fixated on filming his every move. Although this time, they weren't focused on broadcasting his victory to the world, it was his soul-crushing defeat.
You couldn't blame him for being heartbroken after such a disastrous game. They'd come so close to tasting the glory of the finals, only to have it stripped away from them towards the end of the game. His team had frantically scrambled to score an equaliser before the final whistle blew. The scents of the Argentinians were practically gloating as they blocked their desperate attempts, the men in blue grinning wolfishly at Jude when he let out a low growl at an elbow jamming into his side.
He hadn't even intended to approach the celebrating Argentinian team, their delighted chanting only adding to his grief of losing a chance to compete in the World Cup final. Tears start to well up in his eyes as he paces the field anxiously, dragging his feet against the short-trimmed grass.
He runs his hand over his face, practically vibrating with anger as he presses himself into the England captain's shoulder, a warm hand patting his back comfortingly. His teammates huddle close, a nose pressing up against his neck to breathe in his sugary scent, the air around them thick with disappointment.
That's when he hears it.
He doesn't notice it at first, the energy of the stadium and the music blasting from the arena's sound system making it nearly impossible to make out the words of the men next to him, let alone the huddle a few feet away. However, a glance in his direction and whispers of his name, followed by a mocking "omega," catch his ears, the hyena-like laughter of the opposition finally pushing him over the edge.
His team doesn't even have time to react as he wrenches himself away from them, eyes blazing as he storms towards the gaggle of blue, his long strides swiftly eating up the space between them. His ears are ringing, the veins in his neck bulging, pupils constricting as he zeroes in on the offending alpha. A series of thunderous shouts bellow from the crowd at the scene. The smaller Argentinian man's laughter cut off with a choke, Jude's hand shooting out to yank the back of his shirt hard. He drags the man backwards, snarling as he hurls him to the side, his fist drawing back sharply for a punch.
Slam!
His teammates manage to tackle him before his knuckles can connect with the other's face, Jude struggling violently against them, teeth gnashing and nails scratching at their arms as they hold him down. Kane and Burn try to hold back the Argentinians, but their attempts to calm the situation are fruitless as the two sides begin to shove at each other.
"What the fuck, Jude!?" Rashford yells, pressing down on the alpha's shoulder with his whole body weight, the man beneath him thrashing wildly.
The referee blows his whistle loudly as he tries to separate the fighting before the pitch is flooded by the coaches and staff of both teams, the stadium's security dragging the players away from one another.
Jude stares up at the sky, his chest heaving as he comes back into himself, eyes wide and face pale. Everything hits him at once, the feeling of the alphas' hands on him, their scents thick and suffocating after hours in the burning sun, the dizzying mix of pheromones making his head spin. He blinks at them, desperately trying, and failing, to focus his vision, shaking his head back and forth as he chokes on their scents, drowning unbearably in them. Bile rises to the back of his throat at the asphyxiating feeling of it all, his teammates hastily letting go of him as he splutters.
He rolls onto his front, fingers clutching the ground as he retches, curling in on himself, his forehead resting on the grass as he fights to catch his breath. His body shakes uncontrollably, lips parted, and brows pinched tight. A cruel twist in his pelvis confirmed the cause of his outburst.
Oh fuck.
Jude has always been a more… exuberant soul, both on and off the pitch.
Erling smiles at the thought; after all, that's what made him so exhilarating to play against. His ability to dart and weave between attackers, to tackle even the most experienced of players, and to score goals even Erling would struggle with are just some of the reasons he's so hopelessly infatuated with the younger alpha.
The older alpha swipes through his phone during the hydration break, smirking at the tweets pinging his phone about him watching Bellingham play, the small fanbase they've somehow managed to acquire freaking out at his presence. He posts a couple of pictures to his social media to pass the time, chuckling to himself as he finds the most ridiculous filters possible. The sharp sound of the whistle interrupts his fun, his attention returning to the game.
He winces a few times during the first half. The players are much more violent than usual. The blond bites the inside of his cheek when Jude collides hard with two of the defenders, the alpha knocked down by a harsh kick to his ankles. Erling's eye twitches with jealousy as the Argentinian man clearly scents him, his nose pressed in Jude's hair.
Luckily, Gordon scores an unexpected goal shortly into the second half, the ball flying into the back of the net with a resounding cry from the England fans in the stands around Erling. The energy in the stadium erupts, the crowd chanting and stomping their feet against the metal floors. It reminds Erling of something more akin to a gladiator fight in a Roman colosseum rather than a football match.
But seeing Jude bound excitedly across the pitch with his teammates brings Erling back to reality, a grin on his lips as their eyes lock momentarily. The midfielder rushes past him, waving his arms with a bright smile at the crowd. The younger alpha's familiar pheromones catch his nose in an instant, the scent brushing him fleetingly as Jude returns to the pitch. Erling's smiling expression shifts into a confused frown. The other man's scent is unusually thick and tacky, less like the irresistible salted caramel he's used to and more like a rich, buttery toffee, the unexpected change making him shift uncomfortably in his seat.
The match only goes downhill from there. The England team was enduring a relentless barrage from the Argentinians, one ball passing through their wall of defenders, and then another. The now-winning team starts to mock the Englishmen's desperate efforts to equalise, their fans singing their victory songs as the clock counts down to the last few seconds.
And then it's all over.
An eerie quiet takes over the crowd surrounding him, the once joyous fans in red and white frozen in shock at the result.
Erling's heart pangs as the overhead screen focuses on Jude, the midfielder shaking where he stands.
The blond steps towards the stairs nearby to enter the technical area, desperate to comfort the man he loves. His eyes pan over the distraught England team, some players collapsing on the floor in exhaustion, others standing with their faces buried in their hands as they sob. He watches Jude stagger at the other end of the pitch until he nuzzles into Kane's neck, clearly wrecked by the outcome of the match.
The scene tugs at Erling's heartstrings, Jude hugging his players close, letting them scent him as they process the bewilderment of losing so quickly. This is why Erling admires the younger alpha so much. Jude's ability to hold himself together in the face of provocation and put his teammates' feelings in front of his own during defeat never fails to astound him. This trait of his was one of the first things to catch Erling's attention back when the pair first started to play for Dortmund together.
That's why it's such a shock when he spots the man stalking over to the cluster of Argentinian players, his fist flying towards his cheek until Spence tackles him.
Blood rushes to Erling's ears as they wrestle Jude to the floor, the alpha kicking and snapping his teeth at them like some kind of wild animal. The watchers in the stands explode at the display, drinks flying and brawls breaking out between the opposing fans. The aggressive energy that the Norwegian felt simmering throughout the match finally reaching its boiling point.
Erling struggles to push through the sea of people rushing the field, lifting his head desperately to check on the younger alpha. A worried whine leaves his throat as he scans the pitch, his eyes widening as he spots Jude running towards the tunnel.
The delirious alpha stumbles through the doors of the locker room, collapsing against the bench in the centre. Jude's fingernails dig into the soft wood, leaving half-moon-shaped indentations as his teeth clench tight, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he pants desperately. "Fuck!" he cries out, burying his face in his hands at the realisation of what he's done. He should've noticed the warning signs: his nervous jittering before the match, the way he rolled his eyes at the team's head alpha, how easily the opposition riled him up. Shit.
His thighs tense when another wave of agony blooms in his pelvis. The brunet's head falls back with a miserable sob at the feeling of the base of his cock throbbing, his fingers tangling in the white fabric of his jersey with a pitiful groan. He lies there for a moment, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth, eyes screwed shut, hips twitching upwards with each agonising twinge.
"Mmfph..!" Jude keens, unable to hold back any longer. One of his shaking hands reaches downwards, his breath catching as he hesitantly slides his fingers between his legs to squeeze his aching cock. The effect is immediate, his back arching high as he lets out a low moan, thighs rubbing together at a taste of the release his body is so desperately craving. The alpha holds his hardening length tight, eyes rolling back slightly from the much-needed relief. His pheromones start to ooze out of his neck, mindlessly filling the locker room with his syrupy scent.
A gasp escapes his lips as he ruts up into his palm, Jude's head spinning at the overwhelming thoughts darting through his mind. His cheeks flush darker in arousal, toned legs spreading open instinctively, his fingertips tracing the length of his covered cock before moving up to the waistband of his shorts. Jude shudders at the feeling of his hand slipping under the elastic and into his underwear, his lips parting with a whimper, fingers brushing the trimmed curly hair at the base, "O-oh g-"
He's interrupted by the sound of the locker room door swinging open, followed by the lock clicking shut. The alpha scrambles to sit up, still having enough sense to cover himself before he receives the lecture of a lifetime. He takes a deep breath, hands balled tight as he waits for Tuchel or Kane to come storming inside-
It's Erling.
"Jude, what the hell was that back there?" the blond asks, breathless as he rushes towards him, Jude letting out a growl when he gets too close.
It's Erling...
"You shouldn't be here, Haaland," he responds through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tighter as he watches the realisation dawn on the other alpha's face
"You... your rut started?" The man gawks at him, brows furrowed in worry as he takes a step closer, "Don't you take suppress-"
"Yes, I do." Jude snaps, agitated by Erling's incessant questioning, his dark eyes glaring up at his friend towering above him.
Suppressants failing wasn't rare, and the emotional strain of competing in the World Cup probably doesn't help to reduce the chances. His hindbrain nags at him to get away from the Norwegian, aggravated by the presence of another alpha in his personal space.
"Now get out."
"Jude-" Erling starts, Jude standing sharply with a snarl at his defiance. The older alpha takes a subtle sniff of the air, his throat bobbing at the sheer viscosity of the scent permeating the room.
It's like hot butterscotch, unbearably rich and thick like molasses, the caramelised sweetness of it sticking to the back of his throat as his nostrils flare. Shit, he smells good... Erling thinks, his brain short-circuiting at the delicious taste of arousal filling his lungs.
"I said get out!" Jude shouts, shoving his chest hard with both hands. Erling stumbles back a few steps at the force, the sugary scent in the air now spoiled by a sharp sourness.
The blond opens his mouth to argue, interrupted by a fist slamming into the lockers beside them with a loud metallic rattle.
Jude's cheeks puff as he struggles to restrain himself from hitting the other man, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as the emotions from the game overwhelm him again. "Fuck!" the younger alpha cries. "I-..." His shoulders shake hard, muscles wound up impossibly tight as the blows of their defeat beat down on him, "It's all my fault."
Erling places his hand softly on his shoulder, his voice gentle, "Don't say that-"
A pair of hands grab the front of his shirt, Jude spinning them roughly and smashing the larger man against the lockers, his fingers shaking as he glares up at him.
The usual softness in his round doe-eyes is replaced with an animalistic stare, his pupils dilated wide enough to leave only a slither of that warm honeyed brown Erling's come to love. The older alpha lets out a groan at the pain blooming in the back of his head where it collided with the hard metal, his gaze locking on Jude's threatening expression.
"Why won't you just leave?" He growls, his beautiful face marred by harsh lines of anger, his body trembling feverishly.
"I can't just leave you like this," Erling responds, the shorter man letting out a pained whine at his words, his fingers weakening around the fabric of his shirt, their faces close enough that their noses brush.
"Why not?" Jude spits, his inner alpha riling up again at their proximity, his eyes boring holes into Erling's face.
The blond lifts his hands slowly, his gaze fixed on Jude as he firmly takes hold of his wrists. The other alpha's teeth grind together, the tension between them thick enough to be cut with a knife, eyes locked in a silent battle. Erling's tongue flicks out to wet his lips, testing. The younger man's gaze darts down towards his mouth instantly at the miniscule movement before snapping back to his eyes once more, his senses on high alert.
Erling's been around rutting alphas more times than he can recall; the experience practically a rite of passage for those playing sports at a professional level. Football's competitive environment is known for triggering ruts on a regular basis, especially at championship competitions where emotions are at an all-time high. However, nobody he's met has had a rut quite like Jude Bellingham.
He's sharp-tongued, aggressive, and unbearably dominant, his honeysuckle scent touching every crevice of the room, eyes daring Erling to challenge him. And this is only pre-rut.
It happened while they were getting ready for a match back in their days at Dortmund... Erling had announced his plans to transfer to Manchester City earlier in the week, much to the dismay of the squad. Jude was sitting alone on the bench with his shoes untied, the rest of the team leaving to start warming up for the game. He sat unnervingly still, staring at the corner of the locker room, his unusual silence making Erling approach him in concern, the blond man placing a large hand on his shoulder. Nothing could've prepared him for the younger alpha's response, his hands flying up and clutching at the sides of his head, forcing him down into a suffocating kiss. Jude's long fingers tangled in his hair, lips moving against his with reckless abandon, sharp gasps and moans echoing around the empty space. His face then nuzzled into his neck, eyes rolling back at the older alpha's scent, mouthing at the glands hungrily to swallow down the taste of spruce and crisp North Sea air. He collapsed against him after a moment, eyes lidded and unreasonably erotic as he caught his breath.
Erling didn't think he'd been so turned on in his life. His throat bobbed as the younger man stumbled away from him, quickly grabbing his bags and hurrying out of the back door.
He later found out that Jude had started his rut after he didn't attend the match, the alpha returning to training a few days later. The pair never spoke about what happened or why the younger man kissed him with such feverish urgency, Erling simply chalking it up to the rush of hormones, quickly pushing away the thought that Jude could possibly want anything between them.
They'd had a few flings after that, but never stepped past using their hands or mouths. Erling had fallen deeper in love with him each day during their years at Dortmund, but then came the day for him to transfer. Suddenly, the quickies in the showers, blowjobs in the backs of cars, and desperate make-out sessions stopped, replaced by something much more tender and delicate. Teasing touches here, a side hug on the sidelines there, the two making an unspoken agreement to leave their younger selves in the past.
Well, that was until today.
Erling is the first one to break, unable to look into those hungry, big brown eyes any longer. A low purr sounds from the younger alpha at his compliance, his body pressing him up against the lockers.
Jude's face slowly drifts lower, testing the waters until his nose presses against Erling's scent gland. His breath stutters as he inhales deeply, eyes closed; his body shuddering as the warmth in his pelvis coils once more. "Erling..." he sighs, his voice low and heavy, arms wrapped around the older man's shoulders as he teases at his skin, tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up the side of his neck.
Erling swallows nervously at the desire in the other alpha's voice, his hands balled into fists at his sides as Jude scrapes a sharp canine against the fragile skin. "Jude..." He murmurs in warning, feeling the midfielder smirk mischievously against him.
"Mmngh..?" the alpha hums, the vibrations going straight to the blond's cock, his length twitching in his sweatpants. "I missed you." He whispers, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses up his pale neck until he nips him teasingly, "Did you miss me too, Erling?" He asks, relishing in the older man's anxious gulp.
"You're not thinking clearly, Jude," comes his strained reply, tipping his head back against the locker to give Jude more access to kiss up his jaw.
"I want you," he bites back, pressing their bodies closer, his sinful fingers leading Erling's hands towards his hips, Jude breathing shakily into his ear at the weight of his large palms resting there.
"We... we should get you back to the h-" Erling tries to interrupt, grunting as the man bites his collarbone hard. Jude lifts his face from his neck to press their foreheads together.
His pupils are completely blown at this point, lips red and plump, cheeks flushed pink as he stares deep into the older alpha's eyes.
"I know you want to fuck me..." He breathes, teeth glinting as Erling tenses. His nose brushes against his cheek, voice thick with lust. "I can see it in your eyes whenever you look at me."
Erling clenches his jaw tight at his words, heat rising in his stomach at the provocation. The Norwegian squeezes his hips, Jude letting out a soft moan at the feeling of those strong fingers pressing into his skin through the thin fabric of his shorts. The younger alpha presses a long kiss against his temple, shivering as he feels Erling's scent spike in arousal.
"But you never can, can you?" He whispers dirtily, his lips caressing Erling's feverish skin.
"W-why not..?" Erling asks, the tone of his voice almost begging Jude to continue, the bratty alpha more than happy to comply, slipping his body flush against him.
"Because we're- oh fuck... both alphas." Jude pants out, biting his lip hard to stifle the groan threatening to escape him at the feeling of Erling's leg snaking between his thighs.
Two alphas together isn't unheard of, but the press definitely looks down upon it. It's risky. Especially dangerous in their line of work.
The blond alpha tries to formulate a plan to snap the other man out of whatever rut-drunken daze he must be in to actually consider fucking him, but then Jude's soft moans of Erling, oh god, I want you so bad fill his ears, and his cock twitches despite himself.
"Jude, please," He chokes out, the midfielder starting to roll his hips against the larger man's thigh harder. "The others will be here... shit... soon."
"Erling," Jude whines whorishly in response, fingers tangling into the man's long blonde hair as he ruts against him, his aching length finally getting the friction it deserves. He groans at the pain returning to the base of his cock, panting desperately into the older alpha's ear, "it's so fucking hot."
Shit, if Erling wouldn't do anything just to bend the alpha over and- the reminder of Jude's teammates possibly seeing him like this, flushed and panting as he grinds his hips pathetically to get relief from the heat writhing in his crotch, disrupts his fantasising.
A dark rumble of possessiveness sounds deep in Erling's chest at the idea. He can't help it as his domineering scent begins to seep out to dance with the other's impossibly potent pheromones, his cock hardening as his alpha instincts begin to take over.
Jude growls at this, his head falling backwards as the Norwegian's smell clouds his senses. His brain is a whirlwind of emotions; the bitter loss of one of the most important games in his career fresh in his mind, his inner alpha screaming at him angrily to get away from the man and find a willing omega to knot, and most importantly of all, the stench of Erling's scent that he missed so dearly now taking on notes of sticky tree sap as his arousal builds.
Jude's hips stutter slightly, his lips parting with a needy breath as he teasingly bares his neck on full display, desperate for the larger man's touch. Erling's pupils dilate at the sight of the beads of sweat trickling down Jude's golden skin, his canines aching to bury themselves into the man's slender throat. He swallows, unable to stop himself from leaning down to hesitantly nose at the glands exposed before him, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathes deeply.
Jude has always smelled sweet for an alpha, too sweet, Erling's often thought, unfairly fucking sweet.
He remembers when the younger man came to him nervously, confiding in him about his insecurity with his pheromones, the blond quickly shutting down his ideas of wearing scent patches. He knows it was selfish, giving Jude advice based on his own desires, but Erling was certain that he wouldn't be able to live happily without inhaling that syrupy aroma whenever he sees the other alpha.
"Let me..." He groans, running his lips up the expanse of that pretty neck. "Let me fuck you, Jude..." He murmurs against his skin, voice muffled in his throat.
"What was that?" Jude whispers, arching his back as the taller alpha leans over him to breathe in his scent deeper, the younger man smirking to himself as the striker finally gives in.
"Please... please let me fuck you," Erling huffs, his tone bordering on desperate.
A pleased purr leaves Jude's chest at this, the alpha delighted by his control over the other man. His eyes are lidded with arousal as he pulls back slightly to tease the blond further, a startled yelp replacing his words as the larger man suddenly flips them, Jude's back slamming against the metal locker hard.
"E-Erling!" He gasps, biting his bottom lip tight when a large thigh reasserts itself between his legs, the firm muscle pressing deliciously against his aching cock. This is what he's been waiting for. All of his teasing and prodding, rubbing himself up against other alphas, letting his team scent him whenever he knows Erling's watching, making a show of adjusting his shorts during their games against each other... hell, even his habit of arching his back when he kisses the grass after a win. All of it has led up to this very moment.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Erling groans, harshly pulling his hips closer, the younger alpha moaning at the pressure against his crotch, "Why?" He growls, scraping his incisors up his scent gland, his mind consumed by the threat of Jude doing this as some kind of joke.
"Because I- f-fuck..."
"Tell me, Jude." He snaps, a hand moving from his hip to grab his face, the pair looking deep into each other's eyes.
There's a moment of tense silence, the quiet buzzing of the overhead lights filling the quiet room, every inch of their bodies flushed together.
Jude lets out a whine when Erling squeezes his jaw tighter, cheeks darkening at the sheer hunger in the man's gaze.
"I want you to make me your omega."