Chapter Text
Counter to what most would believe, Nanami Kento enjoyed the work.
Most of the time.
There were always exceptions, of course. Clients were heavily vetted before being allowed into the Rut House, so the ones who managed to slip past such security were few and far between. After nearly a decade of being in the industry, Nanami could usually determine a client’s suitability within the first meeting.
It was why he often found himself in a managerial role rather than a service role as of late. They had expanded their employee roster significantly after the outlawing of Omega-run Rut Houses five years ago.
Controversy had been abound at that time and Nanami was warned what this would mean for their Beta-run operation. Sure enough, clientele flooded their reservation queue and other similar Houses. Of course, he understood the ramifications of allowing Omega workers in Rut Houses.
Sexual misconduct, forced bonding, rape, unwanted pregnancies—the list went on and on.
Which was precisely why in the last five years, they had all watched as Omega brothels were elevated to a status never before seen in their industry. They no longer catered to filthy Alphas in rut. Only the most elite Alphas with pristine medical records and carefully tracked rut schedules were allowed to even submit a client request.
Nanami had watched in slow and then rapid progression as a divide grew between the purpose of Pleasure Manors and Rut Houses. The names spoke for themselves, but even then, the clientele noticeably shifted. Disregarding purely monetary assets, those who ran to Rut Houses were medically desperate and those who went to the Pleasure Manors wanted sex wrapped in status.
There was still pleasure to be found in Rut Houses, but Nanami saw more curious cases these days.
Today was one such day.
Two men sat across from him in what was their de facto intake room. More and more clients had complicated requests. Those who had normal ruts often tended to try their luck with Omega manors first.
Nanami waited for the pair to hand him their intake form but neither offered it. “Your papers?” he prompted.
They were a mismatched pair and clearly nervous. Both were dark haired, but one was so thin a breeze could’ve knocked him aside. The other was large and well-built and so very clearly an Alpha. Despite that, he kept throwing glances at the smaller man as if urging him to lead the conversation. Odd. Alpha clients, stereotypically, did not defer to others.
“It’s a delicate matter,” the meek one mumbled. He corrected his glasses and shifted around. “We would need you to sign a legally binding non-disclosure agreement before we discuss anything.”
Nanami was about to say the discussion was over, but then the much larger man spoke up with exhaustion thick in his voice. “Please, this is our last option. We’ve heard that this place has accepted some of the toughest rut clients around the country. You’re the only one who agreed to an intake meeting after we said the client in question can’t come in person.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Nanami made a silent note to reprimand the owner for accepting an intake request like that. It was an obvious red flag if the client didn’t show their face. They were still a reputable business and couldn’t be getting wrapped up in shady dealings.
“And why can’t your client be here in person?” Nanami asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. “Please also, at the very least, provide me with your names. I find it only reasonable.”
The room went silent.
Nanami pushed away from the table. “I see no further need to waste time then—”
“—Suguru.”
He paused, gazing at the large man who was now leaning forward. Desperation loosened the sloppy bun atop his head and made the corners of his mouth tremble.
“I can’t give you more than that.”
Nanami nodded. “Fine. Suguru-san, why can’t your client come in person?”
For a moment, it seemed as if silence would ensue once more. If that happened, Nanami was fully prepared to put an end to this farce.
Suguru exhaled loudly, rubbing both hands over his face, dark circles looking all the darker suddenly. “He’s been in rut for 60 days.”
Nanami opened and then slowly closed his mouth.
Smiling wryly, Suguru spoke again. “Every hospital we tried refuses to admit him. Private doctors won’t attend to him. We tried over the counter drugs, black market ones too—”
“—Ge-Suguru-san!” the other man yelped, looking torn between trying to forcibly stop him from speaking and being too scared to get closer. “You can’t—”
“—can’t what? It’s not like we have other options. You think we have the leverage to ask for secrecy? If we did, would we be at a fucking Rut House?” He laughed, but it was sharp and broken and beyond the point of tired.
Well. At least he’s aware. Nanami’s shoulders loosened the slightest bit. Their establishment had developed an unfortunate reputation for taking in difficult Alphas, but that didn’t mean they would take anyone. And they most certainly would not take a faceless client with nameless assistants who demanded a non-disclosure agreement as if they had any leverage in this conversation.
“This isn’t a medical office, we know that.” Suguru’s gaze shifted back to Nanami. “We…we know you can’t legally treat him like a medical patient. But we also heard that you’ve had other severe rut cases walk through your doors and you didn’t turn them away.”
“And who told you that?” Nanami murmured, expression flat, voice unchanging.
Suguru watched him carefully. “It doesn’t matter. We know this house took care of someone who was going into rut nearly every other week. We also know you have procedures to handle excessively violent clients without hurting them.”
“So your client is excessively violent.”
Suguru’s lips thinned.
“We don’t let any and every violent Alpha into our house,” Nanami corrected, “nor do I appreciate the implication that we have such low standards of care for our employees.” Without waiting for Suguru to respond, Nanami went on, “The reason behind the violence is assessed. Our staff is given time and information to determine if any of them are willing to take on such a client. We then arrange meetings outside of active rut to allow both parties a chance to understand each other’s boundaries, tells, and so on and so forth.”
Suguru and his companion exchanged a look.
“Therefore, I find it unlikely we could safely arrange for your client to take up long term residence here—”
“—he’s not rampaging.”
Nanami swallowed an irritated sigh.
“Will you meet him?” Suguru pressed.
“I do not do house calls.”
“He’s in the car.”
Nanami stared.
Scratching at his neck, Suguru gestured toward the closed intake room door. “Please? You’re a Beta. It’s not like his pheromones could sway your decision one way or another. We can’t give you anymore details unless you agree.” Suguru’s voice lowered, “This is the fullest picture I can offer you right now without signing any legal paperwork.”
Based on his companion’s increasingly red face, allowing Nanami to see their esteemed client was already out of the question and yet they were allowing it. They, or rather, Suguru had compromised so Nanami supposed he had enough grace to compromise as well.
He didn’t like turning desperate people away. It was also fortuitous that it was Nanami handling this intake and not someone else. Following strangers to their car sounded like the beginning of a tragedy.
“Two minutes.”
For the first time since they met, a smile crossed Suguru’s face.
It was highly improper and extremely dangerous, but Nanami followed the two men into the underground parking garage of the Rut House. Private property or not, there was still no telling what would happen if they were deranged.
Nanami would never allow one of the other employees to do this. He was also adding more and more complaints to his list for the owner because how dare he throw such an aggravating case onto Nanami without warning.
They stopped in front of a sleek black van. All of the windows were tinted. Nanami kept a healthy distance as they slid the door open, revealing an expensive, leather interior. If there were other details, he didn’t notice them.
Instead, all of his attention fell on the slumped figure in white that had been excessively strapped into one of the seats. Overgrown snow white hair brushed the tip of his nose and covered his eyes completely.
The straitjacket he wore had been outfitted with a muzzle.
Nanami reached for his phone instinctively, alarm bells ringing every which way. Before he could get further than his pocket, a large hand snatched his wrist.
Suguru’s eyes flashed in silent warning.
“What have you done to him?” Nanami demanded.
“It’s to protect him. Everyone else, too.”
A biting retort surged up but Nanami pushed it back down. Is he feral? The answer was, perhaps, obvious. Alarm and dread were replaced with sinking despair. Nanami understood the situation now, just as Suguru had stated he would.
No one could fault every other reputable facility from turning this client away. Nanami was still considering doing so as well but to a lesser degree.
That option lost all appeal when the man shifted and bright blue eyes fluttered open, hair parting faintly. They were bloodshot from exhaustion and red rimmed from what may have been tears, insomnia, or a mixture of it all. His breaths came ragged and heavy, overgrown canines obscured by the metal bars of his muzzle.
He’s been in rut for 60 days.
The words reverberated in Nanami’s head like the coldest mantra.
“Can he speak?” Nanami asked.
Suguru shook his head, brow furrowed and lips pursed. “If you mean right now…no, not exactly. It’s been deteriorating. No one will examine him, so we really don’t know what’s going on. I…If you’re taking him on, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
***
“I already apologized—!” the owner of their esteemed Rut House, Haibara Yu, grunted and dug his fingers into the antibacterial tabletop beneath him.
Nanami kept a fair distance, unimpressed.
Haibara was lying on his stomach, naked from the waist down and lower half hidden behind a soundproof wall. It was the pre-rut service they offered on a semi-anonymous basis. Much to Nanami’s chagrin, it was highly popular and brought in many new customers that converted into regulars about 80% of the time.
As a result, all employees, owner included, participated on a rotating schedule. Nanami had done his shift for the month already. If he had to choose, being a convenient hole-in-the-wall for customers was more appealing than the negotiation they were about to have.
In fact, spending an entire year as the only hole would be easier than the upcoming assignment.
“An apology won’t be enough.” Nanami kicked the crooked table leg back into place and Haibara sighed in thanks. “He will require a dedicated team and that team will consist of just me.”
“Well…you must f-find it worth it, huh?” Haibara pushed his sweaty hair back. He winced as the wall rattled.
Nanami glanced down toward the hole opening. “Did you insert the padding?”
“It fell—ngh!—out.”
Turning away, Nanami grabbed towels from a nearby shelf and shoved them under his stomach. “You should know better than to start a shift without padding the opening properly.” He grimaced at the sight of chaffed skin around Haibara’s lower abdomen and then rummaged around for the dislodged padding. “If I attempt to fix it now, the customer will notice.”
“Think he’s almost done,” Haibara panted, looking relieved at just having towels to absorb the impact of rough thrusts. “Pre-rutters are always a gamble though. Might pop a surprise knot by accident, y’know?”
Nanami nodded. He had experienced more surprise knots than he ever cared to admit.
“But you actually like getting knotted.” Haibara dropped his head onto folded arms. “It’s okay sometimes, but you probably enjoy it the most out of all of us here.” He flashed a grin.
Nanami pinched Haibara’s cheek harshly. “We’re discussing a serious matter, Haibara-san. Please refrain from changing the subject.”
He whined and tugged away, rubbing at his reddened face. “Okay, okay. What do you need? I’ll make it happen. They said money isn’t a problem, so honestly, you could quit and retire once this job is done.”
If this job ever ends. Nanami had serious concerns about what they were getting themselves into.
What they were going to put the Rut House through.
But then he remembered those wet blue eyes. That pitiful form. The paralyzed voice.
His fingertips tingled at the memory. He hadn’t meant to get that close but his body had moved without permission. When his thumb brushed over a flushed cheekbone and the man jerked back before blinking in surprise, Nanami knew he was done for.
What startled him? What comforted him?
Both had happened, leaving them equally confused. Nanami wasn’t sure how long he gazed into endless blue. Maybe it was only a moment. Maybe it was long enough for Suguru to say they would give him the rest of the day to decide.
“The detached villa.”
Haibara blinked slowly.
“It will need to be renovated into a semi-permanent residence and cleaned from top to bottom. We have excellent ventilation already to ensure our clients do not aggravate each other during their respective ruts, but this is an unusual case.”
Nanami crossed his arms, continuing, “I’d like a new and fully isolated ventilation system installed. A temporary one for now is fine. All new furnishings, bedding, and towels as well. I’ll prepare the food myself but the deliveries will need to be daily.”
“Done.”
“How fast can you have it completed?”
“Uh—,” Haibara broke off on a grunt, eyes squeezing shut. He swore under his breath, cheeks reddening. “Dammit, it’s a knot.”
Nanami sighed.
“At least a week. Maybe five days, if I pull in some favors.” He slumped face down on the padded table. “Someone will have to take the rest of my shift today though. Can you handle that part?”
“Understood, I'll arrange the employee scheduling for the rest of the week.” Nanami grabbed another large towel and dropped it on his head. “And I’ll have the paperwork in order by tomorrow night for your approval.” As he began to exit the room, he paused, glancing back at Haibara’s miserable form. “Suguru-san.”
Haibara raised a questioning brow.
“Why did you allow him to come for an intake interview despite his refusal to bring the client?”
The wall rattled again. Nanami ignored it.
Haibara’s gaze warmed and he buried a snicker in his arm. “Because of you, Kento.” He tucked the towel under his chest, using it to prop himself up. “When there’s people like that on the phone, I try to channel my inner Nanami Kento and ask, are they worth hearing out even if I think it’s gonna be a miserable time?”
Nanami slammed the door shut behind him.
The laughter that chased after him was both aggravating and not.
***
Nanami didn’t have the time to properly communicate with his clientele about the change in his circumstances. The list wasn’t as extensive as it had been years ago when his primary job description was servicing. Nowadays, it was mostly regulars that had been with him for more than three years.
Among them, he had only one appointment booked for the day and unlike the others he had cancelled, this one was non-negotiable.
He had been Nanami’s very first “client.” Peers in university and occasionally, Nanami offered to help him through ruts. After deciding to go down the path of working at a proper Rut House, this friend had become a paying client.
Although Nanami found it strange at first, his friend had insisted this was more proper. What would other clients do if they found out Nanami did favors in his personal life? What if word spread he was willing to work for free?
“This is the last time, Higuruma-san.”
Nanami pulled the silk robe over his body while simultaneously discarding the used condom. Everyone had their preferences. Being old friends, those preferences were ingrained in a way that made it difficult to be anything but casual.
That was why Nanami felt no qualms about washing the taste of latex out of his mouth with whiskey. He would’ve preferred raw come over the rubbery mouthfeel of a condom but Higuruma didn’t like the mess. Never had liked the mess.
It was another reason Nanami didn’t think much of honoring this booking. He didn’t have to be concerned about the state of his ass or the scent on his skin.
Higuruma had long since begun taking hormone regulators. He only came to relieve minor pre-rut symptoms and, from what Nanami understood, his ruts were hardly notable. The pre-rut imbalances were the worst part of it nowadays.
“I should’ve suggested we do more than a blowjob then,” Higuruma drawled, lighting a cigarette. “Are you getting Bonded?”
“No.” Nanami poured another glass of whiskey, offering it to Higuruma. “I have a long term assignment I’ve accepted.”
“Sounds like a pain.”
“Maybe so.”
Higuruma sipped the drink. “How long?”
“Indeterminate duration, at the moment,” Nanami stated. “If needed, I’ve prepared a list of suggested employees you may find amenable. There’s the pre-rut quick service station as well.”
He snorted. “Asses stuck in a wall aren’t really my thing.”
“There are mouth stations.”
Higuruma paused.
Nanami hid a smile against the lip of his glass. “Not all openings have secured padding though. I would choose with caution.”
He shoved Nanami lightly. “Just tell me when you’re back in business. I can fend for myself if you’re unavailable.”
“It may be years.”
“So be it.” Higuruma shrugged, downing the rest of his drink. “If I’m Bonded by then, invite me for a drink.” He stood up and righted his trousers, having never fully undressed. “If I’m not, invite me to pay you for sex.”
Nanami snorted but couldn’t stop the affection from coming out. He finished his drink as well, cradling the tumbler between his hands as Higuruma finished tugging his suit jacket on.
“Take care of yourself.” Higuruma ruffled his hair, departing with such nonchalance that no one would’ve believed they had just ended a years’ long arrangement.
Not wasting any more time, Nanami got up, retrieved his phone, and made a call to Suguru.
They met in a private room at a bar.
Suguru had chosen the location and at midday on a Tuesday, there were essentially no other diners. In fact, Nanami wouldn't have been surprised if the shop was only open to the two of them.
Tea and snacks were already on the table when he arrived, the server leaving him alone with Suguru.
“Can I take it that this is good news?” Suguru asked, flashing a small smile. His hair was less disheveled today. His eye bags were darker though.
Not wasting time, Nanami removed a box from his breast pocket, sliding it across the table. “It will take five days at minimum before we can allow your client to take up residence at our House. Preparations are underway as we speak and the owner has already been advised to invoice you for the costs.”
Suguru simply nodded, utterly dismissive of what that invoice might entail. Instead, he focused on the box, head cocking in confusion when he opened it. He lifted one of the perfume vials out and held it up to the light. “What's this for?”
“Please open and place one of these vials in your client's room.”
Uncorking it, Suguru took a whiff and looked even more confused. “It doesn't smell like much, if anything at all. What is it?”
“A natural relaxant. The scent, I’ve been told, is more effective on those under duress. Before your client comes to stay with us, I would like him to be exposed to it.” Nanami nodded at the second vial in the box. “That is a spare. I imagine the first one will be rejected immediately or within a day. I must insist that you persist on this matter.”
Suguru tucked the vials back into the box. “I’m willing to try anything right now.” His gaze flitted back up to Nanami. “Clearly.”
The jab was mild. Certainly not even close to some of the things Nanami had heard this week alone from those inside and outside of the industry. He brushed a thumb over the glazed tea cup, allowing heat to seep into his fingertips. “Are you convinced it’s not a medical emergency?”
“Well, seeing as how no one will approach him without sedation, I have no idea.” Suguru swirled his own tea. “They’ve tried to run tests but ruts cause too many abnormalities. His fevers are getting worse. I don’t know what a doctor would say, but it’s obvious something’s gotta give.”
“Are you aware of what could have possibly caused this?”
Suguru’s hands tightened around the tea cup.
Nanami almost gave into the urge to remind him that they agreed to greater transparency once the client was accepted and the non-disclosures were signed. Perhaps it was too much to ask for all of those details at once, especially in public. Suguru still hadn’t named the client and that spoke volumes.
“I’ll prepare some reports for you.” he finally replied. “It would be a disservice if I tried to explain it here.”
“Alright.” Nanami nodded, tip of his tongue scalded by too hot tea. “Then tell me of his eating and drinking habits. I’ll be preparing all of his meals personally.”
Suguru perked up. “Sweets. He loves them.”
“Real food, Suguru-san.”
“He’d definitely argue that that is real food.”
Nanami held back a sigh. “What other preferences does he have? Food or otherwise. I will do my best to make him as comfortable as possible.”
When they went their separate ways a couple hours later, Nanami had something that more or less counted as a shopping list.
Baked goods. Parfaits. Mochi.
Silk sheets. Silk pillowcases.
The more difficult bits of information he received left him unsure on a way forward.
Pop music (possibly overstimulating in the current situation)
Attention. Lots of it.
No specific hobbies.
A man who liked loud, bright music but had no hobbies but also desired lots of attention. It felt like Suguru was teasing him. If the situation was less dire, he may have even run with that conclusion. As things stood though, that wasn’t possible.
Whoever the client was had no need for hobbies or was simply so talented at everything that nothing held his attention. In the same vein, he craved all eyes on him.
Nanami brushed those details aside for the time being and focused his energy on filling the villa’s fridge and outfitting the bedroom.
The next time he heard from Suguru, it was via text two days later. You were right. He broke the first vial immediately.
Nanami tapped out a swift reply. And the second one?
The answer came a minute later. Not yet.
No further texts came in. It was a good sign, all things considered. Nanami assumed that meant the second vial was being circulated in the client’s territory. Even if the client was keeping it far away, the room would eventually take on that relaxant’s scent.
It was all about exposure and recovery. This was merely preparation for the first step.
***
Somehow, someway, Haibara pulled through on the fifth day.
By the time night fell, a temporary ventilation and air purifying system had been rigged onto the detached villa. Tarps were carefully nailed down to block any public access pathways to that area of the property, making it impossible to accidentally come within scent range. The interior had been stripped and redone with new furniture in pristine condition.
Nanami didn’t have the nose to verify it, but everything had arrived in sealed plastic and since he personally unwrapped it all, there was no other possible scent floating around. The team who had unloaded everything went the extra step of wearing full protective suits as well.
The kitchen was designed for ruts, so there was nothing heavy duty for proper cooking. Nanami had originally planned on cooking outside and bringing everything in, but it would be much safer if everything was contained to the villa.
And so, on a last minute whim, he purchased some induction cooktops and cookware as well as a few weeks’ worth of food to start. Later down the line, he was sure they would need grocery deliveries made.
By the time he was alerted to the client’s arrival, everything was in place.
Instead of the underground parking lot, Nanami guided Suguru to take the backroad and to enter via a private gate. This villa was their premium unit for the highest level clients who didn’t want even the possibility of being seen by other guests.
As such, giving up this unit for such a long term assignment was a blow to the business, but with the apparent bottomless cash reserves being offered, they would recoup the losses.
Nanami opened the door, eyes falling to the client still bound in his straitjacket and muzzle. He was seated in a wheelchair and the thin man from last time was pushing him along. Suguru smiled, genuine but tired.
“Thank you,” Suguru said by way of greeting. He took his shoes off in the entryway and then hauled the client to his feet,
“He can walk?” Nanami blinked.
“The scents outside make him unsteady. Indoors with controlled airflow doesn’t bother him.” Suguru tilted his head up, surprise flitting across his face. “Wow. This place…smells like nothing.” He glanced at the client who had steadied himself on his own feet and was sniffing the air curiously too. “What do you think, Satoru?”
Satoru.
Nanami watched those startling blues flicker behind too long hair. The haziness of his gaze was dissipating, tension releasing just a bit from his shoulders.
“Uhm, Nanami-san?”
He glanced back at the timid companion who hastily bowed.
“Allow me to offer my deepest apologies for the last time we met. Now that you have agreed to take on this monumental task, please allow me—us, to be as transparent as possible.” Head still lowered, he said, “my name is Ijichi Kiyotaka, personal attendant to the current head of the Gojo Clan, Gojo Satoru.”
Nanami’s stomach dropped. He didn’t know much more beyond the name, but the name was more than enough. To live your entire life in Japan was to know the name of the oldest, most noble clan in the country.
The Gojo Clan was ancient. Powerful. Survived into modernity with their hands in everything and nothing all at once.
Who allowed the head of the family to fall into this state?
“Our young master will be in your care from here on out. Please let me know at any time if there’s something I can do to assist you.”
Nanami nodded faintly, watching Gojo Satoru wander toward the living room from the corner of his eye. Turning, he trailed after him, keeping careful watch of how he reacted to various things. “Thank you. I believe for now, it would simply be best to allow him time to explore the new surroundings.”
He raised an arm, stopping both Suguru and Ijichi from leaving the entry hall. “Although your scents are familiar to him, I would like to isolate foreign scents as much as possible. He’s much closer to a feral Alpha than anything else at the moment. I’d like to see if doing a hard reset on his senses may provide him some lucidity.”
Suguru tensed beside him. Reluctantly, he admitted, “He’s doing alright for the moment because he’s heavily drugged. I don’t know what he’ll do once that wears off. I brought along our supply—”
“—no need.”
“I’m serious, Nanami-san,” Suguru replied, eyes darkening in a way that spoke of countless days of hopelessness. “ I know we tried that natural relaxant you sent over, but he was still sedated the entire time. Even those aren’t very effective anymore so the doses have been going up. Without any of it, he might actually become feral.”
“You’ve restrained him and caged him. I don’t know what he could do at this point to harm anyone.” Nanami could see Suguru gearing up to argue and cut him off. “My career is built upon Alphas knotting me daily. If your worry stems from something as trivial as that, I can assure you, it’s unneeded.”
His mouth clicked shut.
“I would like to gather more information regarding how he came to be like this. Did you prepare the documents and reports I requested?” Nanami held his hand out and this time, he was handed the fully filled out intake form as well as supplemental documents.
“It’s not everything, but we can answer questions as they come up.” Suguru struggled to tear his gaze away from Gojo, but finally forced himself to retreat toward the front door with Ijichi on his heels. “His medical history is in there too. Allergies. Emergency contact information. I—”
“—I’ll provide daily reports on his behavior and progress. If you find a suitable medical professional willing to take a look at him, I will gladly relinquish my services,” Nanami stated. “So allow me to reiterate that I have no intention to masquerade as anything other than a rut partner.”
Suguru was quiet for a long moment, searching Nanami’s face for something. Eventually, he gave a faint nod. “Geto Suguru. My name.”
“Thank you for entrusting him to me, Geto-san.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up and as if someone cut the strings, his body seemed to sag forward in relief. “Yeah. He’s my best friend. Treat him well, Nanami-san.”
With one more glance down the hall, Geto left the villa with Ijichi in tow. Nanami watched them from the open front door until there tail lights vanished and the gates automatically closed behind them.
When he shut the door and locked it, the heavy presence behind him finally became obvious.
It took years of control for Nanami not to jump at the clink of cold metal against the nape of his neck. He stayed perfectly still, unsure why but feeling frozen to the spot. There was clear evidence that Gojo Satoru was bound and essentially gagged.
All he could do was telegraph every motion.
But there was pressure. Promise. Gojo’s breathing grew increasingly ragged, metal muzzle tapping and digging into Nanami’s skin.
Without the scent of another Alpha around, he’s letting his defenses down.
As much as Geto thought his presence helped, Nanami had seen enough Alphas in the throes of a regular rut to know that friendship and love meant little to nothing during those times. An Alpha gone feral had only instinct left.
Nanami set the documents on a side table. Facing Gojo once more, he guided his muzzled face toward his own throat, listening to a choked off whimper that devolved into a growl and then a gnashing of teeth as the metal rattled in vain.
“Is it their scent?” Nanami asked, voice mild and low. He unbuttoned the loose shirt and shrugged it off.
Gojo quieted just a bit but then drew his knee up, scraping the side of Nanami’s pants.
Wordlessly, he acquiesced. Unbuckling the belt, unzipping his pants, and taking everything off including his underwear finally seemed to appease Gojo who stopped growling altogether.
The straitjacket strained around his shoulders and biceps, muscles obvious even through layers of thick canvas. He herded Nanami away from the door and toward the living room where the air was most likely freshest.
It didn’t seem like the scentless air was doing anything to bring him back to his senses, but it certainly provided his arousal clarity. Nanami considered that a step in the right direction.
Sex was the simplest part of a rut. The least muddy. The least prone to bouts of mood swings.
Eating, sleeping, bathing—those were matters that always proved the most challenging.
Nanami unfurled the crotch strap on the straitjacket before removing Gojo’s sweatpants as well. There would be no need for those while they were in this situation.
A thick, purpling cock sprung up toward Gojo’s stomach. It was needlessly large. Leaking without any signs of stopping. His knot was already partially engorged. Nanami studied the angry veins pulsing along the shaft, wondering if Gojo’s caretakers had all but given up on allowing him any sexual outlets.
Were sedatives and rut suppressants all he had been given? Was he in a constant state of arousal or did someone give him a hand or a toy?
In his current overstimulated state, had anyone even been allowed near him?
Nanami shook off the thoughts. This was no time to try digging into that pile of documents. He could do so after helping to settle Gojo first. It might be impossible, but even some relief was better than nothing.
He pushed Gojo down to the couch and nestled between his legs, running a hand up the slick length and swirling his finger over the tip.
In a matter of seconds, Gojo tensed and came with a hoarse cry.
Nanami stroked him through it, long and slow and thorough. He kissed and sucked at the head, drinking what he could and allowing the rest to roll down his knuckles. Lifting his gaze up, he caught Gojo’s unfocused eyes and pink cheeks. Drool slipped from his parted lips.
Closing his other hand around Gojo’s swelling knot, he squeezed it firmly.
Gojo’s head jerked back, breaths coming hard and fast as he jerked his hips up and into Nanami’s hands. Sure enough, he still couldn’t vocalize his desires in any coherent way. Muscular legs suddenly hooked around his shoulders and neck, dragging him in.
Staggering forward, Nanami took the opportunity to close his mouth around the head, focusing on massaging the pulsing knot. He rarely, if ever, allowed Alphas to knot his throat on first encounter.
This time was no different.
More seed spilled down his throat. Nanami closed his eyes and breathed through his nose even as Gojo attempted to strangle him with his thighs. He couldn’t tell if his broad frame was a comfort or if it encouraged Gojo to try and subdue him. The more he restrained Gojo’s constricting legs, the more he pistoned his hips and cried out.
Nanami had no idea how much time had passed before the knot finally calmed down. It must’ve been a long time. Longer than he reasonably wanted to verify. He had reached his limit on drinking Gojo’s come a while back, much of it now splattered across his cheeks and chest.
They had migrated further down with Gojo sprawled on his back and Nanami squeezing the shaft between his pecs. Whether it was stimulating or not was debatable. What mattered was the flash of satisfaction in Gojo’s eyes at the sight and probably smell of Nanami covered in his semen.
Like a dog marking territory.
He sighed, resting for a moment between Gojo’s legs, sternum still flush to the underside of his half-hard cock.
A smooth heel ran down between Nanami’s shoulder blades before dragging back up in a mockery of comfort.
Nanami snorted, nipping at Gojo’s inner thigh. That, unsurprisingly, earned him a pleased growl.
Now would be best.
Nanami pushed himself up, hovering over Gojo’s form. His hands were filthy as was the rest of his body but cleaning up would most likely not be the best way forward.
“Are you hungry, Gojo-san?” he murmured, brushing their foreheads together.
A resounding growl from Gojo’s stomach was answer enough. He blinked wide blue eyes, nodding furiously while sitting up.
Clink…
Nanami slid the first buckle loose on the straitjacket and then the next one and the next until they all unravelled.
A part of him expected to be jumped as he unclasped the muzzle but instead, Gojo immediately rubbed their cheeks together as another loud growl erupted from his stomach.
Truly. The most unpredictable part of rut is everything but the sex.