Archive of Our Own

Satoru finds it when he’s cleaning out the hall closet, buried in a box clearly labeled Do Not Touch, in a handwriting that’s distinctly familiar, but doesn’t belong to either Satoru or Suguru. It leaves Satoru with a little aching feeling in his chest, because he has a sneaking suspicion it’s the same handwriting as Suguru’s ex, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head in favor of disobeying the foreign handwriting. He digs his hands into what could very well be hidden treasure, kept in the depths of a closet that’s primarily used for Suguru’s cleaning supplies.

He flips the lid open, a plain cardboard thing, to find a box of sex toys. Omega sex toys. Toys that would only be suitable for someone in the midst of a heat, which distinctly, neither he nor Suguru get. Two alphas in an apartment means two ruts, every three months, and sturdy locks on the bedroom doors.

These, though. They’re not for an alpha. The dildo on top is clearly for an omega, and Satoru’s heart burns with a smidge of jealousy thinking about whoever it belongs to.

It certainly isn’t something Satoru owns. He’s had his own fair share of rut partners, all omegas, and they’ve been perfectly satisfied with Satoru’s knot. He knows the same is true for Suguru—the rut partners. He doesn’t know about the whole satisfaction bit, considering Satoru doesn’t really linger around Suguru’s hookups. That would be weird.

So, naturally, the toy piques Satoru’s interest. What use would Suguru have for a knotting dildo? Does he have a boyfriend? Does he have—knotting dysfunction?

The questions plague his mind as Satoru digs through the box. They’re not all omega sex toys, actually. There was just, y’know, the knotting toy. There’s some plugs, too, which Satoru doesn’t think are all that healthy for omegas to keep up there, so he’s not quite sure what use Suguru would have for them. And then there’s some other, more regular toys. The kind that Satoru’s familiar with, though he’s never really owned them. Fleshlights, and that sort of thing, which Satoru’s used to seeing in porn of solo alphas.

Satoru studies them for what’s probably too long, by anyone else’s standards, before he shuts the box and pushes them back to the depths of the closet.

Unfortunately, the box doesn’t leave Satoru’s mind. He thinks about it probably too much, particularly when Suguru isn’t home and Satoru’s mind has the chance to wander. Is it his ex’s? Did they get it because Suguru couldn’t satisfy them? The dildo is decently sized, actually, because Satoru went back into the box again when Suguru was gone and compared it to his own and—yeah. It’s bigger than him. Satoru’s not, like, huge, but he’s big enough that it’s an impressively sized toy.

So who exactly is using it? Because Satoru can’t recall the last time Suguru brought someone home, and it’s not like Suguru’s using knotting toys on himself.

Like, Satoru knows people do that. Some alphas like being knotted, for some reason. But it’s gotta hurt, right?

Especially with a dildo that big.

The next time Suguru’s out of the apartment, Satoru has to look at it a third time, because it’s impressively large. Definitely not the first sex toy someone would want to try out if they were experimenting with knotting toys. Just, y’know, a general someone. Definitely not Satoru.

He estimates that the dildo is probably around nine inches, but it’s a bit difficult to figure out exactly when he tries to measure it, because of the knot at the base of it. The knot’s big, too, but it’s proportional. It’s just that the whole thing is massive.

After a bit of research, Satoru determines that the dildo is, in fact, massive. Most omegas don’t enjoy anything over seven inches, let alone nine, and the most notable thing about Suguru’s dildo is that it’s girthy. Definitely thicker than what Satoru finds online. He also learns, for research purposes, that the best way to enjoy a cock this big is to work up to it, starting with smaller dildos. Most of the information Satoru finds is about betas who are helping out an alpha during a rut, but Satoru supposes it’s not all that different for him. The Reddit post he’s looking at even has a few suggestions for beginner dildos, and Satoru adds them to his cart. For research purposes.

He sits on it for about a week, and then decides to pull the plug when he thinks a little too hard about one of Suguru’s exes using the dildo. Satoru’s had many conversations with Shoko about non-conventional pairings, and sue him, he’s just curious.

Satoru still likes omegas, of course. He’s only had omegas as his rut partners in the past, and as far as Satoru’s concerned, that’s all he needs. The dildos, Suguru’s box, all of it is just a passing fascination. Plus, Satoru knows it’ll probably make him a better partner in bed, won’t it? If he knows what it feels like to take cock, to take a knot…

Yeah, he’ll be a better partner.

Suguru pulls him aside a couple days before his rut’s going to start, and gives him the little heads-up they always have.

“Hey, ‘toru,” he says, waving a hand as Satoru emerges from his bedroom. Suguru’s in the kitchen, prepping meals for the next few days. His scent is thick, permeating the air, and Satoru lowers the growl that instinctually rises in him. “Is fried rice okay with you?”

Satoru blinks. Suguru’s making him fried rice?

“Yeah, sure, but—”

“I made a bit too much,” Suguru interrupts. “‘sides, you’re not going to eat well if I’m not around, are you?”

An objection rises on Satoru’s tongue, but there’s not enough substance for him to actually speak it into existence. Instead, he’s thinking about the taste of Suguru’s cooking, melting on his tongue.

“Of course,” Satoru nods, biting at his lip. He’s never quite sure what to do when Suguru goes into rut. Satoru’s used to being glued to his side, but right now it feels…wrong.

Suguru’s in pre-rut, and the distinct scent of him has coated the apartment, marking the territory. It makes something on Satoru’s spine stand on-end, another alpha entering what should belong to Satoru.

He shakes it off, and instead goes to get the package that’s at the door. With a little shake of the box, Satoru realizes what it is, and has to disguise the flush from his cheeks as he brings it back to his bedroom. As he passes the hall closet, he thinks about the dildo. Satoru will get there.

“Hey,” Suguru stops him, giving a quick glance over his shoulder. “Starting next week, I’ll be in and out of here. If you hear me in the kitchen, just—”

Satoru knows the drill.

“Yeah, just wait for you to leave. Don’t worry, I got it.”

Suguru’s eyes narrow.

“Just making sure,” he continues. “I wouldn’t want to…hurt you, or anything, just because I’m a little out of it. You know what happens when I’m in the same room as you.”

Satoru laughs. “Believe me, I know the risks.”

It gives Suguru a moment’s pause.

“I mean it, ‘toru. You don’t know how bad it could be,” he replies, voice deadly serious. There’s an element to his tone that sends a shiver through Satoru, as if there’s a hidden meaning to his words.

“Okie-dokey,” Satoru sing-songs, and promptly shuts the door to his bedroom, his box of dildos in tow.

Suguru’s gone to sleep early, like he always does when he’s in pre-rut, which gives Satoru ample time to try something from his new bag of tricks. He’s ordered dildos, too, but also some vibrators. He’s always wondered about those, because omegas are always gushing about how much better they are for internal orgasms. Satoru knows he can have those too, technically, just that…

Well, it’s probably less common?

So, he’s gonna work up to those. First, he’s starting with the smallest, Reddit-recommended dildo. Glass. Plenty of lube. A finger, first, and some clockwise manipulations of his asshole. It all feels a bit crude, when Satoru gets on his back after prepping himself in the bathroom and presses a finger to his rim, slick with lube. It’s a weird sensation, a bit cold, but not entirely unpleasant. Then, he tries to press the finger in and—

Okay. So a finger is inside him. Satoru’s fingers aren’t that large in comparison to, say, Suguru’s, so it’s nothing to write home about. The thick fingers are probably better, right? He does kinda take a look at the glass dildo, though, and decide it’s a lot larger than his finger, and so Satoru kinda gives himself a moment to relax, feeling a little ridiculous with a finger in his ass, when he slips another in.

Ooh. Okay, so it burns a little. Not in a ow, ohmygod, getitout, kinda way, but more of the stretch he feels when Suguru makes him do yoga and he presses on Satoru’s waist and tells him you can get lower than that, ‘toru.

Two fingers definitely don’t seem like enough, though, even when Satoru pulls them in and out of himself a little bit experimentally. Nothing really happens, nothing like the way omegas seem to gag at the feeling of something inside them.

So, Satoru tries for a third, feeling himself finally relax a little, and just manages it. It’s a tight squeeze. Satoru’s an alpha, after all, and he’s not really meant to have anything up his ass, much less Suguru’s knotting dildo. Still, Satoru’s determined, and so when he thrusts the fingers in and out of himself and feels comfortable enough with the feeling, he ignores the vague discomfort and decides it’s time to try the glass one.

Only, just when he’s about to pull them out, they brush against—something. It’s. Whoa. Kinda like how it feels when he jerks off, but a little bit more strange, and Satoru has the sense he didn’t fully hit the spot he was supposed to. He read a very detailed account of prostate milking on reddit, and Satoru doesn’t feel anywhere prepared for that, but. If he can reach the spot, he might as well keep going, right?

After listening to the air for a moment, ensuring the apartment’s silence, Satoru crooks his fingers again, just in the exact same way he’d done a few seconds before, and holyshitwhatthe—

A little whine escapes his mouth, even though Satoru’s become an expert at the silent jerk-off in the years he’s lived with Suguru. It’s—okay. More than okay. Satoru feels a little unsure in his movements, but he keeps going, and he thinks about the dildo in the hall closet, and the fact that his fingers are a little slim, not quite thick enough to open him up the way he’d like.

Regardless, it’s incredible. Satoru kinda has to scold himself for not trying something like this sooner, because he’s hard, and even though his movements are a bit disjointed, a bit unsure, he still manages to get at the spot, twisting his wrist until he reaches a new angle that lets him get a little deeper, that stretches him even more, fingers buried to his palm, a bit thicker at the base.

And then, it’s as if Satoru’s discovered some sort of magical formula. He bends his fingers a little, stroking that spot with precision, and—

Magic. Satoru strokes once, twice, and then he’s trembling, his breathing shaky, vision spotty. It’s probably the most intense orgasm Satoru’s ever had. His whole body shakes, muscles seizing, and when he comes to, his wrist is a little achey, his body tense in weird places.

It takes Satoru a moment to move from his position, to get his lube-covered fingers out of his ass and to collapse on his bedspread. It’s as if his limbs are made of jelly for god knows how long after, his eyes screwed shut as he reckons with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

After a few moments, he manages to get himself to sit up, rolling to the side and curling in on himself slightly. He eyes the glass dildo, and decides maybe it’s best he work up to it next time.

In the interim, he has his weekly coffee with Shoko, and asks her about a few more specifics as to the topic. Subtly, of course.

“So, like, it feels good?” Satoru asks, sipping on what Suguru would call a sugary monstrosity of a cappuccino. “To do like. Butt stuff?”

Shoko nods. She’s being very clinical about all of it. “Yeah, I mean the prostate exists for a reason. Not that much different from female alphas still having a g-spot, y’know.”

Satoru screws his eyes shut, because he doesn’t need the image of Shoko and Utahime having sex, like, ever, and Satoru knows exactly what Shoko’s thinking about.

“Okay, but like, for guys—”

“—have you and Geto like, done stuff yet?” Shoko asks. She sounds like she’s genuinely curious.

“Done…stuff? No, why would—god no. Shoko, that’s Suguru. He’s an alpha.”

(Satoru pointedly ignores the fact that he’s thought about what things might be like with Suguru if one of them weren’t an alpha. He’d probably, like, marry the guy, or something.)

She gives him an incredulous look. “You’re asking me about how to give a prostate massage, Satoru. On a male alpha.”

Satoru gives a hum. “I didn’t know it was called a prostate massage.”

One of the Reddit comments had mentioned that, actually. They’d gotten a bit too detailed for Satoru’s tastes, going on and on about how good it feels, how much their limbs tremble, how insane it is to come over and over without even being hard. It was…vivid.

“Well, forgive me for jumping to conclusions, Gojo, but with the way you two behave, there’s really only one conclusion to jump to. Why else? Are you thinking of taking on alphas as partners?”

Satoru’s jaw drops. It’s—no! It’s research. He’s thinking about how to, like, experience the equivalent of an omega’s orgasm. It’s got nothing to do with fucking other alphas. Satoru’s pretty sure, like, you’re not supposed to do that. Fuck other alphas. It’s not good for you, or something.

“Hm,” Shoko hums. “Just out of curiosity, did your parents tell you anything about all this?”

His parents. Well—of course they did. Satoru’s parents told him it was impossible to have sex with another alpha. Biologically.

“Yeah, I mean it’s biologically impossible,” Satoru says. He feels the sentence form into a lie as it lingers, mid-air, awaiting Shoko’s reply.

“Right,” Shoko nods. “So, I’m going to give you a pamphlet, and then you’re going to do some googling.”

Satoru doesn’t know how to explain that it’s totally fine if other people have alpha partners, just not, like. Him.

After Satoru’s meeting with Shoko turns into Sex Education 101, Satoru feels somewhat defeated in his plan to go home and fuck himself with the glass dildo. He ends up taking Shoko’s pamphlet and crumpling it into the trash. Then, after about ten minutes of the pamphlet sitting crumpled-up in the trash, he fishes it back out, and smoothes it out on his desk. Maybe he’ll want the advice later, or something. There’s gotta be some use for How To Have Sex With Your Alpha Mate as a Non-Omega.

It does, at the very least, confirm that Satoru’s right to be looking at general advice for, y’know, butt stuff. Apparently taking a knot is much harder for betas and alphas, but it’s completely doable. The anus is a muscle, and a muscle can be stretched.

Satoru’s mission is practically accomplished already!

Suguru’s at some sort of workout class, or something, so Satoru uses it as another golden opportunity to work on moving up to the closet dildo. This time, he’s careful enough not to make himself come with just his fingers, and manages to avoid any sort of accidental brushes against his prostate, stretching himself to three fingers with the same technique he used before.

Then, he grabs the glass dildo. Slathers it in lube. For a moment, when he tries to grip the base, it slips right out of his hands, and Satoru just manages to catch it before it clatters onto the floor. Fortunately, he did his research, and he knows it probably wouldn’t break. It can take, like, anal pressure and shit. Plenty of suction. 

After steadying the dildo in his hands, Satoru tries to insert it inside himself slowly, but it just kinda…slips in. It doesn’t take much pressure at all to push it deeper, given it’s about the same size as his three fingers, and much slicker, so the biggest struggle is getting a grip on the flared base. He manages it, though, and then he’s building up a pretty steady rhythm, thrusting it in and out of himself in just the same way he moved his fingers.

It’s slightly different, but when he does manage to find his prostate it’s even better. Before he’d been all cramped, trying to get his fingers in exactly the right position. Now, he can reach it easily, the glass gliding against his rim without discomfort. Satoru misses the stretch a little bit, but he supposes he’ll get plenty of that with the closet dildo, so for now he just focuses on keeping his stroke game consistent, hitting the right spot, that kinda thing. The sensation builds until he feels a bit weightless in his body, as if he’s floating amongst clouds.

Just as he’s about to come, the familiar static-y feeling thrumming through his body, Satoru hears the front door swing open, and a little call of, Satoru, I’m home.

And for a moment, Satoru pictures it. Suguru, opening up his bedroom door as he’s apt to do, and finding Satoru like this, a dildo up his ass. He’d laugh, right? It’s ridiculous—an alpha fucking themselves like this, all wanton for someone else’s cock when they’ve got a perfectly functioning one of their own. 

(A rather nice cock, if Satoru says so himself.)

It’s to that image, though, that Satoru comes again, face planted in one of his pillows as he teases that spot over and over, falling in a heap onto his bedspread. It’s as if his muscles have failed, completely, and then Satoru resigns himself to laying down for a moment before he manages to clean himself up, and gather up his sheets for the laundry.

“Y’know,” Satoru starts, leaning on the side of the washer he’s yet to start. “You can bring rut partners back here.”

Suguru, who’d been making a smoothie, freezes. “What?”

“Like, territorially it’s not a problem, or anything. You just—I dunno what changed, but you haven’t brought anyone back in a while. So, I’m just saying, if you have someone to contact—”

“I don’t,” Suguru interrupts. His tone is strangely serious.

It makes Satoru’s mind run in strange ways. Like, why is he so insistent about it? Rut partners are totally normal to talk about, except if, like, someone’s in a relationship.

Oh god, is Suguru in a relationship?

Satoru narrows his eyes. “Are you seeing someone?”

Suguru’s face drops. It’s as if his entire body has gone rigid, freezing in place as he spoons cubed mangoes into a Vitamix.

“If I was seeing someone,” Suguru starts. “You would know about it.”

Satoru thinks about the fact that they spend, like, ninety percent of their time together. He’d definitely know if Suguru was seeing someone.

Right. Satoru opens his mouth into a little ‘o’. “Yeah, no I probably would.”

There’s a moment of pause, where both of them don’t quite know what to say. Because they don’t really talk about this stuff. Suguru’s happy to talk about a lot of things, but he doesn’t really like talking about rut partners, or ruts in general, outside of the meals and other preparations he makes for his own, and for Satoru’s.

Alpha pheromones fill the air, thick. Suguru’s. If Satoru didn’t like his scent so much, it would probably be annoying, or cloying, an indication that Suguru’s mad. Except Satoru does like his scent so much, so. It’s not a problem.

Or relationships, apparently.

“Anyway,” Satoru finishes, leaning as casually as he can against the washer. “Just, y’know, checking.”

He gives Suguru a quick scan, who still hasn’t moved, and then starts the laundry, and retreats to his bedroom, Suguru’s alpha pheromones lingering on his skin.

It’s still a few more days until Suguru’s rut, and Satoru decides, in the end, to do some of Shoko’s googling. She went through all the trouble of giving him a pamphlet from her office, and in the end, she’s just trying to help out. The least Satoru can do is his homework.

He kinda figures out, like, his parents are probably wrong. It’s completely normal for two alphas to be in a relationship. They can’t biologically make children, but Satoru’s kinda already past the stage of his life where he wants to maintain his connection with the Gojo clan at all, so he comes to the conclusion that this is probably just one of those beliefs his parents raised him with that he’s kinda internalized. It’s always been fine for other people, but the moment Satoru has to start thinking of himself—

Well. It’s not like he has to think about himself at all, really. He’s not looking to get into a relationship with an alpha, he’s just exploring new things! Butt stuff. Dildos. Normal things for alphas to explore. Suguru’s probably explored these things too, because he’s, like, really experienced, and also very open-minded. Satoru has naturally assumed all of his rut partners were omegas, but they could definitely have been, like, betas, too. Probably not alphas, though, not since he moved in, because Satoru would’ve smelled one.

He brings it up to Suguru still, though, just to check.

“Y’know,” he starts, when it seems like it’s a good moment. Suguru’s sorting out the trash, because Satoru accidentally put a can in with the burnables, and management’s going to get mad at them again if they keep throwing their trash away unsorted. “You’ve brought home betas, haven’t you?”

Suguru gives him a look. It’s one Satoru’s seen before, the one that says, what the fuck are you talking about, Satoru?

“Yes,” Suguru replies. “I’ve had some betas try to accompany me for my rut.”

The word sticks out in Satoru’s mind, notable.

“Try?” Satoru asks.

And then Suguru gets a little flustered. Stammars.

“Um, it’s a bit much to ask for betas,” Suguru replies. “I don’t know if you remember Haruto, but—”

“Blegh,” Satoru interrupts. “I hate how that guy treated you.”

Suguru gives a small smile. “Yeah, you and me both. Um—he tried to join me for a rut, once, and it didn’t work out, so—”

“Now you stick to omegas,” Satoru nods. He’s very comfortable with that answer. Suguru’s an alpha, Satoru’s an alpha, both of them spend their ruts with omegas, because it just makes sense.

Suguru’s lips are pushed together in a thin line. “Mm,” he hums. “I mean, I haven’t taken home a rut partner in over two years, so—”

“Uh,” Satoru interrupts. “Yes, you have.”

He rewinds. Tries to think of the last time there was a cloying scent in the apartment, one that made Satoru want to stuff tissues up his nose and claw out his sinuses. Surprisingly, the last time is so faded in the back of Satoru’s memory, he can’t even remember the face of the omega the scent was attached to. Maybe Satoru never saw it at all. He assumed Suguru was just territorial, or something.

“No,” Suguru insists. “I haven’t. It’s just—not my thing.”

Satoru comes to the very quick realization that Suguru isn’t lying. He really hasn’t taken a rut partner in years.

“Right,” Satoru replies. “Not your thing.”

Satoru finds himself wondering what exactly is Suguru’s thing when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside himself, and he’s thinking about adding a fourth.

After the success of the dildo earlier that day, Satoru decides it’s a good time for him to move up in girth. The plug he’s purchased is just slightly larger than the glass dildo, though it’s nowhere near the girth of the closet dildo. Not to mention the knot that accompanies it, but Satoru’s going to start with a simple goal—just the tip.

Getting a fourth finger in there isn’t exactly trivial, since he has to work on the angle a bit again, twisting his wrist even more, but Satoru manages it, his pinky slipping in with ease. He panics for a moment, fingers feeling too big, everything so tight, but then—

He relaxes. Wiggles his fingers a little, even though it’s a squeeze. Pushes them in a little more, deeper, to the spot where Satoru knows he’ll be able to come in seconds. It’s tempting to get himself off right then and there, but if Satoru knows anything about knotting, he knows it requires patience. Nothing like the quick rutting Satoru had done with the glass dildo.

If Satoru wants to learn to take a knot properly, he’s going to have to have a bit of patience.

After a few minutes of four fingers, working lower and lower, past the second knuckle, Satoru feels sufficiently stretched, and reaches for the plug he’s set to the side. After a slow breath, he releases his fingers, and pushes the plug inside, whining a little at the sensation of it inside him.

The silent jerk off is slowly becoming a lost art.

He’s not planning to leave it in for too long, given Suguru’s right in the next room and all this butt stuff has inevitably broken his longstanding streak of silent masturbation. Satoru’s also expecting not to like it, but when he’s finally got the plug inside, the base stretching his rim, he finds the sensation is somewhat comfortable, actually. 

Comfortable enough that he goes out into the kitchen while Suguru’s making dinner and just—hangs out.

“Hey, ‘toru,” he greets. He’s still in pre-rut, pheromones thick in the air, and Satoru chokes on the scent when he exits his bedroom. It’s like hitting a wall, except instead of provoking Satoru’s alpha instincts, it almost soothes them.

Satoru settles behind the counter, ignoring the way the plug shifts in him as he walks. New sensation. Nothing bad.

Still, when he sits, it presses on certain places.

“You okay with tempura?” Suguru asks. He’s already got a pan out for frying, the vegetables all chopped up.

Satoru nods. “‘course.”

He’ll eat anything Suguru cooks, except for vegetables. Suguru has figured out if he deep fries them, though, Satoru will eat them. Or if he hand-feeds Satoru with his chopsticks. Sometimes.

The sound of sizzling batter fills the air after a few moments of silence, and Satoru decides to be patient, shifting on the stool he’s sitting on.

Unfortunately, the pressure of the seat is slightly different from having the plug in while standing, and Satoru has to clench a little to stop it from shifting around. It’s pressing right there, and if there’s any more movement, Satoru’s a bit worried about what might happen.

It’s one thing to jerk off in the privacy of his own bedroom, but it’s another thing entirely for Satoru to have Suguru watching him.

Though…Suguru isn’t really watching him. He’s sneaking glances at Satoru, sure, in-between fried tempura pieces, but he’s not really watching.

He doesn’t seem to notice the flush that’s filled Satoru’s cheeks, or the way he’s awkwardly shifting in the seat. And the heat of the oil covers the small noises Satoru makes as the plug brushes right there, and soon enough—

Fuck. Satoru’s hard. Like, impossibly hard. He’ll either have to jerk off, or will the hard-on away, and something tells Satoru the second one isn’t happening.

Not with alpha pheromones in the air. Not with Suguru’s back to him, all wide and muscle-y. Satoru can’t seem to get his shoulders that wide, no matter how much he tries to get his protein in and hit shoulders in the gym. Suguru says it’s genetics, and Satoru’s just got a slimmer build.

(Satoru definitely doesn’t think about how when Suguru said that, he’d held his hands around the small of Satoru’s waist, showed him how much smaller it was in comparison to his own. It’d been an affront, back then, but now the memory of the touch stirs something in him. Something Satoru definitely isn’t thinking about.)

Satoru only just manages to tear his eyes away from Suguru’s back, when he’s demanding Satoru’s attention all over again.

“Here,” Suguru says, extending an arm across the counter. He’s got a piece of fried lotus root gripped between his tongs, still steaming from the pan, and holds it just in front of Satoru’s lips. “Try.”

Satoru squirms.

He stares at the lotus root for a second, and then gingerly wraps his lips around it. Suguru’s let it cool enough to be edible, and the flavor is rich, exactly the way Satoru likes it. He’s gorged himself on Suguru’s tempura before, cooked in that lighter oil that reminds him of the way his clan used to make it.

“It’s good,” Satoru says, but with a mouth full of food it comes off more as isth ood.

Suguru gives a soft smile, but it drops a second later. Satoru very pointedly ignores the sensation of the plug pressing to his prostate, because if he does think about it, he’s pretty sure he could come on the spot.

“Oh, you’ve got,” he starts, gesturing to his own face, brushing at the corner of his lip with his thumb.

Satoru brushes his face, but can’t seem to get it. Suguru, after a moment of annoyance, gives a glance to the sizzling pan, and after deciding it can be ignored for a moment, reaches across the counter and cradles Satoru’s head with his hand, brushing at the corner of his lip with the same thumb that’d just brushed his own.

The touch is light, but Satoru can still feel the strength in Suguru’s hands from the movement alone. Still, he holds Satoru so gently, Satoru can’t help but think about what those hands might do in another context. How they might hold Satoru down. How they might open him up.

Satoru is so hard. He is not going to come. 

“Thanks, Suguru,” Satoru whispers.

Later, with a full belly of tempura and the plug sufficiently stretching Satoru’s ass, he decides maybe it’s time to try a bigger dildo. He ordered a normal sized-one that doesn’t have a knot, but still seemed a little comparable in girth to the closet dildo. Still, when Satoru wraps his hands around it, he feels like it doesn’t quite encompass the girth of the other one. Disappointing.

It’s still a challenge getting it inside himself, which might have to do with the silicone exterior, but with enough lube and a little more stretching from his fingers, Satoru manages it. He tries to take it slow this time, picturing the way Suguru had cradled his head. He’d take his time, take it slow, because Suguru’s always had more patience than Satoru. He’d probably spend a lot longer on those beginner dildos, meanwhile Satoru’s been basically stretching his hole in a matter of days, when he hadn’t even had anything up his ass a week ago.

Imagining Suguru seems to do something to him, and so Satoru keeps doing it, though he doesn’t really feel good about it. It’s weird to jerk off to your roommate, right?

Still, it does actually feel really good, so Satoru keeps doing it, picturing Suguru’s fingers instead of his own, and something else instead of the dildo, his movements as sure and steady as he can make them. It’s not easy, because Satoru really wants to make himself come quickly. It’s an exercise in self-restraint, not to get himself off quickly, like he had initially.

It’s Suguru’s voice he has to think about, to slow down.

“I mean it, ‘toru,” Suguru’s voice echoes. Slow, Satoru thinks, because that’s how Suguru would do it. He’d start Satoru off with just the tip, exercise enough self-restraint not to fuck quick into Satoru. Then he’d push in slowly, inch by inch, telling Satoru to breathe when he forgets.

C’mon, dream-Suguru says. You can take it. Good boy. Hold still for me.

Satoru mimics the movements he thinks Suguru would make, pressing the dildo in inch by inch, even though he’s probably stretched enough to take the whole thing. This one is longer than the previous one, too, and Satoru feels every inch of it, pushing it further and further until he’s only got a couple inches extending out of him.

It’s agonizing, feeling the dildo drag against his prostate. The silicon is more stimulating than glass, and the girth is wider, making it a bit of a challenge because it’s so much. He’s gonna come on the spot. Still, he manages it, manages to listen to his imaginary Suguru’s coaxings and calm the fire that burns inside him. He thinks about not-sexy things, like Shoko’s pamphlet, and too-tight kimonos, and frying pans, and Suguru’s fingers—

Okay. Well, theoretically Suguru is distinctly not sexy. Not to Satoru, at least, because he’s an alpha, and he’s not attracted to alphas.

Except Satoru can’t get Suguru out of his head. His fingers, specifically. He still feels the phantom touch of Suguru’s thumb on the corner of his mouth, and he pictures it pressing in full to his lips, hot from the residual heat of the pan, and comes right there, his mouth parted as if he’s sucking the taste off the pads of Suguru’s fingertips.

Satoru clenches around the dildo, come covering the sheets he’s about to wash for the third time this week, and realizes he didn’t even get to the base.

Despite the relative failure of the night before, Satoru’s still motivated. At this point, it’s an addiction, pushing himself more and more, further and further. Satoru’s always been a bit like this—when he puts his mind to something, he’s like a bull, focused upon his red target. Unwavering in his goals.

And right now, Satoru’s goal is to take this knotting dildo.

It’s the weekend, and so instead of scrolling on his phone for an hour the way he normally likes to, Satoru decides it’s time. He sneaks out into the hall closet, knowing Suguru’s still asleep at this hour, and breaks back into the box clearly labelled Do Not Touch. After getting his fingerprints all over it, Satoru reaches inside and pulls out the object of his fixation, tracing his fingertips over the surface as he wraps his hand around the girth, weighing it in his hand.

Satoru was right, it is a bit bigger than the dildo he took the night before. Still, he feels he’s sufficiently prepared to attempt at least the tip, even if the knot’s a bit too much for him. There’ll be plenty of time to try that with—

He cuts off his own train of thought. He’d been about to think: there’ll be plenty of time to try that with Suguru’s knot. Because, as Satoru weighs the dildo in his hands, there’s some quality to it that makes him distinctly think of Suguru. Maybe it’s why Satoru was so drawn to it in the first place. He’s always been drawn to the various parts of Suguru.

His hands. His back. His—

Before Satoru’s mind runs wild, he scampers back to his bedroom with the dildo in tow, crudely shoving the box back in with Suguru’s cleaning supplies. The closet door shuts a bit too loudly, but Satoru knows it won’t be enough to wake Suguru on an early morning like this.

When he safely shuts his bedroom door behind him, Satoru breathes a sigh of relief, and then sets his contraband upon the sheets. He’s cycled through them three times, but he’s willing to change them again for this.

Next to Satoru’s other toys, the dildo still looks absolutely massive. He’d definitely underestimated the girth, and the length, but the knot itself really takes up a lot of space, makes it look even more imposing in comparison to that pathetic glass dildo Satoru’d been moaning on just a couple days before.

Regardless, Satoru brushes aside his other toys, and sets to work on lubing up the thing, and opening himself up. His rim is still a little puffy, but nothing hurts, and Satoru knows that probably means it’s fine. If anything happens, he can just go to Shoko. It’s great having a friend who’s in residency—she always has answers to Satoru’s ridiculous questions.

After a few minutes of awkwardly trying to get four fingers inside himself, Satoru kinda just decides—fuck it. He’ll probably be able to get the tip in and then he can try for the knot, because he’s ambitious, but he’s still an alpha. Like, it probably takes years for some alphas to become accustomed to taking knots, and Satoru’s trying to do that in the span of a week.

It helps to think of Suguru. He’d open up Satoru all nice, make sure he could take Suguru’s knot, even if it is a nine-inch monstrosity when it’s hard. Bigger than Satoru’s. Probably—it’s all conjecture, still.

He fucks those four fingers in and out of himself, doing his best to avoid his prostate, because he wants to come on Suguru’s—the dildo’s knot—this time. If he can get there.

(Satoru’s determined, though. He’s definitely going to get there. Bull, fixated on a dot of red. Fixated on object insertion.)

When Satoru presses the tip of the dildo to his rim, he shivers. It’s a bit cold in his bedroom, because Suguru likes to turn the heat down a bit before his rut, and Satoru didn’t sufficiently warm the toy up before he lubed it up. It’s a weird sensation, particularly since Satoru’s imagining Suguru, and Suguru would be all hot right now, curled up in bed as he awaits his rut. He’d be burning up, cock practically ready to burst, ready to be buried deep within something soft.

Satoru knows the desire well.

Right now, though, a different desire burns through Satoru. This dildo feels sufficiently larger when he inserts it, and there’s that burning-stretching sensation he gets when he opens himself up on his fingers, except this time it’s, like, more. It’s hard for him to describe, but it feels kinda good, so Satoru keeps going.

The tip pushes past his rim, and the first inch slips inside, and Satoru can’t help but make a small noise, only partially muffled against his bedspread. It’s just so much. The last dildo was one thing, a lifelike cock that reminded Satoru a bit of his own. This dildo is something else entirely, though. A beast.

“Mm.” Another inch.

It’s involuntary, at this point, and Satoru gets a little hard, his cock pressed between his hips and the mattress. He ruts a little, too, but it’s less to chase pleasure, and more to run from the feeling of Suguru’s—the dildo pressing inside him.

If Satoru had less resolve, he might have given up there, only two inches inside, but he’s already stretched to the limits of what he’d experienced before. Still the thought of Suguru’s voice managed as sufficient motivation.

Another inch. Another little noise from Satoru’s throat, completely involuntary, the kind of thing that made Satoru’s cheeks flush a light pink, hot despite the cool air of the apartment.

“Sugu,” he mutters. “Suguru.”

His voice is low, the name disguised by the sigh of his breath, but Satoru still feels as if there’s the possibility of Suguru overhearing, his voice drifting through their shared wall.

Impossible, Satoru thinks, and sinks the dildo down further. He’s clenched tight around it, still unable to ease into the sensation and move. 

Relax, ‘toru, dream-Suguru says, and only then does Satoru manage to sink the last inch to the knot. The dildo is so large, it’s enough for Satoru to fuck himself on without even attempting to take the knot, the tip alone enough stimulation.

Veins run up the side, too, that make Satoru gasp even more when they brush against his rim, and then his prostate. He gives an experimental thrust once, and then twice. Not too bad. He still has to imagine Suguru in his ear, guiding him through the actions, his voice slow and gentle.

C’mon ‘toru, baby, open up for me, he says, and Satoru has to disguise another sound by burying his face into the mattress, heat running to his groin. Beneath him, his legs shake as he attempts to support himself, his movements still unsteady atop the mattress. Given time, Satoru might be able to figure out exactly how omegas keep up their stamina like this, but for now it remains a mystery to him. Every time he’s come, he’s been too exhausted to do anything else afterwards. Satoru knows from personal experience how many rounds omegas can go, though.

Satoru still manages to continue his movements, though, on pure determination alone. He feels stretched to his limit, and yet part of him still wants to go further, to try and fill himself completely, the way omegas are. He has to keep his movement deliberate, with every thrust sending warmth down to his toes, but he manages it, manages to keep it still just long enough to try and get another finger inside.

Except—

He’s stretched too full, now. There’s nowhere for the knot to go, because Satoru isn’t an omega, and he isn’t meant to take knots. He’s an alpha.

Shoko’s little pamphlet drifts into Satoru’s mind, and he wonders if maybe he should have read that first, instead of trying to take a sex toy that seems ambitious even for omegas.

Right. Okay. It’s fine. It’s, like, totally fine that Satoru can’t seem to take this knot, he knew it was a bit ambitious. But as he tries to take the dildo out, he’s still so stretched out, right on the edge, ready to come.

Satoru hums against the mattress, pulling the dildo out another inch. It feels so nice. If alphas aren’t meant to take cocks like this, why does it feel so nice?

“Ah—mnhm.” 

He keeps the sound muffled. Quiet. Not too loud.

And then Satoru’s pushing it in a little bit, again, fucking himself with the part that fits inside, and yeah. It feels really good. Better than the glass dildo, better than the silicone one. Suguru’s is on a whole different level, stretching Satoru’s rim so well, so perfectly. It brings him right to the edge, teasing him, cock hard beneath him, hole finally opening up, still stuffing Satoru to his depths, still enough to make him—

“Satoru?”

Come.

Satoru lets out an obscene noise, his body spasming at the sound of Suguru’s voice, a self-trained trigger, come spilling down onto his bedsheets, dildo thoroughly buried inside him, pressing against a sensitive, abused prostate. The orgasm rolls over him at once, a cresting wave coming to crash atop his trembling body. He tenses everywhere, toes curling in on themselves, eyes screwed shut as the world spins.

It takes a few moments for everything to unclench, for his body to return to the boneless state he’s become all-too familiar with over the past few days.

Then, when Satoru finally comes-to, there’s the slam of a door, and his eyes flick open.

“Suguru, you gotta listen to me,” Satoru explains, after he’s sufficiently showered, cleansed his sheets for the fourth time, and wiped down the dildo with antibacterial stuff. Then, he’d pressed a steaming cup of tea into Suguru’s hand, because Suguru’s never functional right when he wakes up in the morning.

“No,” Suguru replies. “I really don’t want an explanation, ‘toru.”

The offending dildo sits between them on their dining table. Suguru’s laid down a cloth to stop it from touching the surface they eat on, of course, because it was just in Satoru’s ass.

(Suguru had handed him the spray bottle and a towel to wipe it with, maintaining a distance that Satoru was almost offended by.)

“I promise,” Satoru refutes. “There’s a really good one.”

And then Suguru goes silent, and flicks his eyes from Satoru, to the dildo, to Satoru again.

“Well?”

Satoru opens his mouth, and then stops, because he didn’t actually have a good explanation. He’d expected a round of verbal abuse and a refusal to accept Satoru’s strange roommate tendencies.

“I’m on a journey,” Satoru answers. “Of self-discovery.”

Something in Suguru’s expression softens, which Satoru secretly feels satisfied at. He’s been working on his pleading face. Then, Suguru’s face hardens again, because, well—

“You didn’t need to use that dildo, ‘toru. It says ‘Do Not Touch’ on the box.”

Satoru pouts. “I didn’t see it.”

He definitely saw it. And he definitely took the dildo because he was just…curious.

“Bullshit. Who told you about it, huh? You never go in that closet, because I keep the cleaning supplies in there, and you never use those.”

“Bullshit. I totally use the cleaning supplies.”

Suguru just raises one of his eyebrows, at that, and then looks back down at the dildo in all it’s massive glory. It really is an absolute unit. 

“Okay, whatever. I don’t care about how you found it, just—whatever prank you’re trying to play, it’s not funny. Did someone put you up to this? Shoko? Yuki?”

Something runs dry in Satoru’s throat. “It’s not a prank?”

His words turn up at the end, because he’s genuinely confused. It’s really not a prank! He was truly just experimenting, curious about this dildo Suguru was keeping amongst his collection of sex toys.

“Dude, it’s gotta be a prank,” Suguru says.

“Nope,” Satoru replies, popping the ‘p’. “You know me. I get curious.”

Satoru doesn’t know how to explain it entirely, and doesn’t think he’ll be able to. Part of it really is just curiosity, but there’s another part of him that raises up on his hinds in jealousy of some nameless, faceless thing. He takes a sip of tea to calm himself.

“Curious,” Suguru repeats. “You were curious about fucking yourself on my cock?”

Satoru chokes. A little sip of tea goes up his nose, and after he tries to take a breath he starts hacking on the liquid, taken off guard by Suguru saying my cock.

His cock.

His cock!?

“I’m sorry,” Satoru says. “Your cock?”

A flush fills Suguru’s face, and he struggles for his next words. “I—you didn’t know?”

Satoru has the sense that he’s missing something big about this dildo, besides the fact that it’s, well. Big.

(Massive. Humungous. Gargantuan. The kind of thing Satoru definitely shouldn’t have looked at and thought: I want to put that up my ass.

Except, well. He had.)

“Know what?” Satoru wrinkles his eyebrows together. There’s genuine confusion on his features, and a growing insecurity in his chest.

Suguru, instead of explaining, takes the massive cock into his hands, and glances quickly at the base before holding it to Satoru’s eyes.

“Read it,” Suguru says.

It takes Satoru’s eyes a moment to focus, the room whirling around him. He’s still a little bit weak from his mind-blowing orgasm, in all honesty. But after he steadies himself, he manages to make out the kanji written at the base of silicone, clearly embossed.

Geto Suguru.

Satoru would recognize Suguru’s name anywhere, but it’s particularly jarring to see it inscribed here, on the base of a dildo Satoru just had up his own ass.

“That’s—”

Even though he starts to speak, Satoru can’t seem to find any words. There’s not any explanation, really.

Suguru presses his mouth into a thin line. “It was a birthday present for my ex.”

Satoru bristles. His ex? The dildo belonged to Suguru’s ex? Suguru’s ex got to fuck himself with such a magnificent cock, got to try and take—

“He never used it, though.”

Something relaxes within Satoru.

“I,” Satoru struggles for his words. “I swear I didn’t know.”

Across the table, Suguru almost seems to deflate, a little, the anger seeping out of his gaze.

“You still knew it was mine, though.”

Satoru drops his head, feeling sufficiently scolded. “Yeah, um, I dunno. I just…wanted to try it out. Shoko gave me a pamphlet for having sex with alphas. I thought it was a good way to prepare. It’s really your cock though? Honestly, that’s pretty hot.”

It all comes out at once, before Satoru can stop himself, his words all ramble-y. When he finishes, Suguru just—stares at him for a moment.

“Shoko gave you a pamphlet? To prepare for—what? It’s,” Suguru shakes his head. “Hot?”

Satoru squirms. He prides himself on being good at reading Suguru, but right now he honestly can’t. He’s not sure if Suguru’s angry or upset in some other way, but he decides the only way out of the situation is through.

“Yeah,” Satoru manages, voice small. “I mean, that’s really a mold of your cock? Dude, it’s huge. Bigger than mine, for sure. And I couldn’t get the knot in this time, but—”

He cuts himself off, after realizing what he just said. This time. As if Suguru’s going to let him try again.

When Satoru looks up, though, silence coating the interior of the room, he’s suddenly pinned in place. Suguru’s expression a moment ago had been angered, sure, but now it’s murderous. It’s as if Suguru’s turned into a wild predator, a panther set upon his prey, going for the kill.

“Show me,” he growls, after a moment’s silence.

Satoru swallows. “Show you, what?”

He feels so small, so unlike himself. Suguru’s gaze is murderous, and Satoru wonders if he’s ever looked like that, in the throes of rut. It feels impossible, honestly, because Satoru’s ruts have never been so intense, but Suguru’s got this energy about him, a scent filling the air, that’s got Satoru frozen in place. He wonders, too, if this is how an omega feels, captured under another alpha’s gaze.

Suguru pushes the dildo across the table. 

“How you fuck yourself.”

Satoru agrees, on the one condition that he does it in Suguru’s room, because he’s changed his sheets four times now, and he’s not about to do it again. Suguru, on the other hand, is prepared, and lays down an old towel atop his sheets that’s definitely thick enough to catch whatever fluids Satoru needs, come or otherwise.

“Just, here?” Satoru asks awkwardly. He’s only in a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, because that’s what he’d changed into after his shower, and he’s kneeling on the bed, the dildo placed in the middle of the towel for him. Suguru had allowed him to prepare for a few minutes before, and when Satoru returned, it was to Suguru sitting in a chair pulled up next to the bed.

Suguru gives a nod of his head. “Right there.”

After a tense moment, Satoru sits upright, and then shimmies off the boxers. He leaves the shirt on, though, because it’s soft and even though he doesn’t really know where it came from, it’s comforting.

Feeling exposed, he gets onto his hands and knees slowly, and opts not to get into his usual position where his shoulders are pressed onto the mattress. It’s more work for his arms, but Satoru would like to maintain some of his dignity while he tries to take the base of the knot.

This time, when he starts to work himself open, he decides he’ll need to get more in than just the four fingers. Sure, it’s enough to take most of the dildo, but judging from Suguru’s expression, it’s not nearly enough for Satoru to try. Suguru’s going to make him take it.

(For a brief moment, Satoru does realize he’s playing with fire. Suguru’s in pre-rut, pent up and uncomfortable and about to knot fleshlights for three days straight. It’s probably a bad idea to provoke him like this, and Satoru isn’t sure why he tried something so bold when Suguru was right in the next room.)

A little whimper falls from Satoru’s throat when he presses two fingers to his rim, slick with lube, and he winces at the sensation of inserting them. His hole is already stretched from this morning, so he works up to four pretty quickly, two then three, three then four.

By the time Satoru’s worked so many fingers inside himself, he can’t help the little sounds that fall from his mouth, entirely un-alphalike. Little mewls, whines, Satoru’s alpha suppressed with every moment. It’s difficult, and fights against all of Satoru’s instincts, but he manages it.

“‘t’s not enough,” Satoru mutters, eyelashes fluttering as he buries the four fingers deep. His fingers aren’t thick enough, aren’t wide enough for Satoru to stretch himself properly.

Suguru’s expression doesn’t change one bit. “Show me.”

He hasn’t moved the whole time, and Satoru almost thinks he’s unaffected, until he looks down, and finds a bulge in his sweatpants, far too defined to ignore.

“I can’t—”

Suguru demands this time. “Show. Me.”

After a moment, Satoru listens, pulling his fingers from his ass, and sinking back onto his knees to coat the dildo in lube, knowing how much it takes to get it inside him.

Once it’s sufficiently lubed, he sits up, only for Suguru to interrupt again.

“Don’t be messy and get any on the bedspread, ‘kay?”

His voice is sickly-sweet, a threat underlying it, and Satoru nods. He places his lube-coated hand on the towel, and then takes the dildo in his other, pressing the tip into his entrance.

Satoru waits for Suguru’s signal, looking at him before he pushes the dildo all the way in. Suguru nods, and Satoru’s actions follow, guided purely by instinct, as though this is something the two of them have done countless times, falling into a rhythm as simple as breathing.

When Satoru presses it fully inside, a warmth fills him, a dull sensation against the cold of the air, and he can’t help but shiver. He manages to bite his tongue and disguise a whine as it presses against his prostate, and stays silent even as it drags, the dildo so thick that it feels there’s nowhere inside Satoru that’s safe.

“Good,” Suguru nods, and Satoru has to blink back tears when he reaches the top of the knot, body still unwilling to take the full length and thickness. “More.”

Satoru inhales sharply, already feeling at his limit, but tries to do as Suguru says. He watches Satoru’s movements with a discerning gaze, his eyes flicking across Satoru’s form, between his hands, his ass, his face.

“‘m trying,” Satoru whines, after he attempts to push the knot even further in, but finds it won’t budge. “I—can’t, god I—”

“‘toru,” Suguru interrupts. “Relax.”

He says it in the exact soothing voice that Satoru had imagined, only this time it’s a little bit lower, coming deep from Suguru’s throat in a growl.

Satoru nods, and then exhales the breath he’d been holding. If Suguru thinks he can do this, then he can do it. He knows if he comes, though, it’ll all be over, and so it’s almost painful as he shifts the dildo inside him, his cock uselessly hard between his legs, Satoru’s mind fixated once more on that singular goal.

He pushes again, inserting on an exhale, and feels his rim stretch slightly wider, accommodating a small portion of the knot. It burns in that stretch-y way, and Satoru feels tears prick at his eyes, the sensation all too overwhelming, and he nearly sobs when he realizes it’s not enough. The dildo slips back, only the top portion buried inside him.

“Can’t, Sug’ru,” Satoru chokes on his words. “It’s too big.”

Through his blurry vision, Satoru can see Suguru evaluating him with a calculating tilt of his head.

“Yes, you can,” Suguru says, still unwavering in his torture. “Use your fingers, ‘toru.”

And Satoru wants to scream. Doesn’t Suguru understand that it’s not enough? That he wants to take it so bad, but his fingers aren’t enough, and no matter how much he tries to work himself open, it won’t be enough for Suguru?

“I can’t. ‘m not—my fingers aren’t big enough. Need—I need—”

The word comes to the very tip of Satoru’s tongue, but he still can’t quite seem to say it. It’s the remains of his dignity, coughed out with a single word.

“Beg, then,” Suguru says. “If you can’t do it yourself.”

Satoru fucks the toy in and out of himself lazily, body shaking with pleasure, brought to the very edge. Still, he knows this will pale in comparison to the pleasure of finally taking Suguru’s knot, of knowing he can aid a rutting alpha.

He drops the base of the dildo, and places his hands side-by-side. Then, Satoru presents himself, posturing as if he’s an omega, arms bending, head reaching the towel atop the mattress.

“Please,” he whispers, as loud as he can manage it. “Need you, Suguru.”

From his current position, Satoru can’t see Suguru, but he hears a sharp intake of breath, something heady pushed from Suguru’s lungs.

“What of me?”

Satoru sobs. “Need you—your fingers. Your cock. I need everything. Please.”

A pause. Satoru can’t see any movement, but he can hear everything Suguru does, the way he shifts in his chair, how his breathing changes. How, after a moment of silence, there’s the creak of a chair, and then footsteps across the floor.

A gentle touch comes to Satoru’s hip, and he flinches, breath hitching. The dildo’s still half buried inside him, hole tightly clenched around it, unrelenting in its grip.

“Please,” Satoru begs once more, and the hand cups his ass, delicate in touch, just as Satoru knows Suguru can be behind his steeled exterior.

“You’re pathetic,” Suguru says, between light touches. He places his other hand on Satoru’s ass, and then spreads his cheeks apart. Satoru instinctually clenches harder on the dildo, trying to prevent it from slipping further out. “Making such a mess of my bed. Begging for my knot, like some omega slut.”

Every word goes to the fire in Satoru’s cock, the heat that’s permeating his body.

“Begging for a knot you can’t even take,” Suguru hisses, and then at once, he pulls the dildo out of Satoru, too quick for him to react.

Satoru twitches around nothing, the inside of his hole exposed for Suguru’s eyes, and Suguru’s eyes alone.

“I can take it, Sug’ru,” Satoru whines. “Promise.”

“Mm,” Suguru hums. There’s something soft about it. “But you still need my help. Need me to do all the work.”

Tears well even more in Satoru’s eyes. “Please. Just this once,” Satoru rambles. “I promise.”

Suguru coolly exhales. “So much work. You’re tight as a virgin—”

Two fingers push to Satoru’s entrance, lubed. Satoru sucks them in easily. Greedily. A sound falls from his lips, entirely involuntary.

“—but you moan like a whore.”

And then Suguru begins to thrust his fingers, slow at first, then quickly working up to a brutal pace. Yet, not a single thrust hits Satoru’s prostate. Instead, Suguru uses them to tease Satoru, open up his rim, and it’s not long before he’s adding a third finger.

Somehow, three of Suguru’s fingers are wider than four of Satoru’s and with the extra stretch, Satoru can’t help the noises that fall from his lips, unwillingly parted.

“Wanna take my knot,” Suguru continues. “But you can’t even prep yourself properly. I’ll have to do everything for you during my rut, have to hold myself back, make sure you don’t tear.”

The image flashes in Satoru’s mind, there and gone again, of accompanying Suguru behind the locked door of his bedroom, of taking a knot relentlessly for three days.

“‘m good,” Satoru starts. “I can take it, can prep myself. Promise, just—just this one—ah.”

One of Suguru’s fingers curls just the way Satoru needed it to, the tip brushing his prostate.

“Please,” he begs with the new sensation. “Wanna—come, please. Lemme, lemme come on your fingers.”

The movements halt, and then Suguru pulls his fingers out, slightly. In response, Satoru cants his hips backwards, chasing after more stimulation.

“‘toru,” Suguru warns, and Satoru stops. 

He waits, holding a breath in the cavity of his chest.

“I’ll let you come, but you’re not going to stop until you take my knot.”

Suguru’s voice is even, and Satoru wonders if he’s even affecting Suguru at all, or if the image of Satoru bent over just for Suguru does nothing for him.

“Mhm,” Satoru hums. “I can take it, please, just lemme—”

“—Are you sure you can take it?” Suguru questions. “I’m not going to stop, even if you beg me to.”

Satoru’s never provided an answer faster in his life.

“Yes, yes, I can take it. Please, Sug’ru, just lemme, le—”

The fingers that’d been teasing his rim suddenly plunge back in, and tease at his prostate with reckless abandon, teasing Satoru in all the spots he needs, and he comes near-instantly, Suguru’s fingers only curling within him before he turns pathetic, dripping onto the towel as he comes in white spurts.

It takes Satoru a moment to realize that Suguru’s coaxing him through it.

“That’s it, baby, take my fingers so well. Gonna make your slutty hole swallow me, gonna—”

Satoru sobs, body overstimulated as Suguru continues to move his fingers, thick and heavy inside him. Then after a moment’s pause, Suguru pulls his fingers out almost completely, only to insert a fourth finger, spread wide like a paddle.

Earlier, when Satoru had fingered himself, he’d only been able to use his fingers all clenched together. Now, Suguru’s thoroughly stretching him, half his fist swallowed within Satoru’s hole, the pressure nearly splitting him in half.

Satoru knows it’s nothing compared to a knot, though.

“So greedy,” Suguru teases. “Next you’ll be taking my fist. D’you think it’s bigger, or smaller than my knot?”

His voice is composed, and such a sharp contrast to Satoru, who sobs with every little movement. The nonchalance stirs something deep within Satoru, his movements rough and utilitarian and uncaring. It’s so different from the Suguru he usually knows.

“Mm—”

“Think you’re ready, ‘toru?” Suguru asks, stilling his movements.

When Satoru doesn’t reply, he moves his fingers a little, pressing again where he knows Satoru will shake, where he’s over-sensitive.

“Yeah,” Satoru finally whispers. “Yeah, ‘m ready.”

There’s a moment where Suguru stills his movements, and touches Satoru softly at the hip, almost in comfort. Then, the next moment, he’s pulling out his fingers, and Satoru feels empty, rim exposed and stretched open.

Suguru stays like that, just for a moment, his fingerprints digging slightly into Satoru’s skin as he sniffles, waiting for Suguru to continue. It’s exposing with his legs spread apart, but somehow because it’s Suguru watching, Satoru doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

“So pretty for me, baby,” Suguru mutters, and it almost sounds like he’s saying it just for himself, for no other ears.

Then, one of the hands moves off of Satoru’s hip, and traces down his leg until it disappears. It leaves a tingling sensation, and Satoru focuses his attention on it, until he feels the ghost of Suguru’s breath on his skin, and something hard pressed to his rim.

Suguru doesn’t even say anything as he eases the dildo inside, just presses it to Satoru’s hole and pushes, holding his hip still when he squirms at the sensation.

“I have to do everything for you, don’t I?” Suguru questions.

“Mm—‘m sorry,” Satoru moans. “I—next time I’ll be prepared.”

The fingers on Satoru’s hip tighten.

“Next time?”

Satoru realizes a moment too late what the implication there is. Instead of dwelling on it for too long, though, Suguru pushes the dildo in another inch, hands still holding his hips still, and Satoru loses sight of any rationality.

He mewls again, as if he’s an omega in heat, and focuses simply on the sensation of the dildo inside him, the feeling of Suguru inside him. Because this is what Suguru would feel like, right? Suguru would press into him just like this, slow and steady after opening him up, after teasing him sufficiently. He’d be gentle, just like this, and yet still relentless.

“Sucking it in so well, ‘toru,” Suguru whispers.

Satoru reaches back, his fingers brushing Suguru’s hand, because he wants it inside him, and Suguru is taking too long.

Suguru slaps the hand away. “Patience, baby.”

Something in Satoru’s chest falls, because god does he want Suguru’s knot inside him. Wants to take it, to show Suguru how good he’d be during his rut, show him he’ll never need an omega again.

(Satoru isn’t going to unpack that thought right now, though.)

“Please,” Satoru whines again, because Suguru’s taking too long, teasing him slowly, pushing it in like Satoru’s never taken it before, like Suguru hasn’t just fucked him open on his fingers. It comes out all desperate, gutteral, nothing like himself.

And then, after pushing it in another inch, Suguru finally acquiesces. His movements are precise, and he seems to know exactly how to manhandle the base of the dildo to make Satoru see stars, little sparks of pleasure igniting up Satoru’s spine as he clenches down around the shape of Suguru’s cock. It’s everywhere, so huge that Satoru feels it in his gut. He imagines it vividly, imagines Suguru in the throes of rut, holding him down, fucking him, knotting him.

“Gonna push it in now, baby,” Suguru says, when Satoru’s thoroughly fucked, on the very edge of his orgasm. “You gonna come on my knot?”

Every movement Suguru makes brings Satoru closer, and closer. Instinctually, Satoru tenses, until Suguru’s free hand is everywhere, tracing along his hips, up the flesh of his thigh, spreading his ass further to accommodate the knot. Between his legs, Satoru is hard, cock leaking onto the towel Suguru carefully placed below.

“‘m gonna—please—gonna—”

And then just as Satoru’s orgasm is about to hit him, Suguru spreads apart his rim, and pushes the dildo the rest of the way in, the knot locking the dildo in place. Satoru stretches for a searing moment, before he comes hard, a tingling sensation radiating out from his belly, through his chest, to his extremities, stars dancing across his vision, senses blocked from everything but the pleasure he’s been begging for.

“‘m,” Satoru mutters, when he comes-to. “So full. So good, S’guru.”

Suguru’s hands are everywhere, touching his hips, tracing up his spine. The back of his neck.

“God, ‘toru,” he groans. “You’re so perfect. Got my knot buried inside you—”

And Suguru pushes down on the base of the dildo, working it a little deeper into Satoru.

“—marked with my name.”

A little shiver runs through Satoru. He clenches around the knot.

Yeah. He’s Suguru’s.