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They talked for the better part of twenty minutes before taking each other to bed, grinning, kissing, laughing a little before getting in character.
Ichiro wasn't so particular as to script every last line when they brought a bit of roleplay into the bedroom, but they both liked to at least sketch out their respective parts, get on the same page about what they thought would be hot, and reiterate their safe words and signals, just in case.
Though today's scene was Samatoki's idea, Samatoki's gift, Ichiro asked to be the one to take the lead.
"Samatoki-san," Ichiro whispered as Samatoki started to undress them both. He lay back in bed and opened his arms, waiting for Samatoki to settle between his legs and kiss him like a gentleman. "Can I ask for one more present?"
"More than what you already got?" Samatoki hummed as he sat back to tug Ichiro's pants and underwear down past his hips, all at once. "They told me raising an omega as pretty as you could be expensive."
"This won't cost you anything," Ichiro promised, biting back a grin.
Samatoki hummed and lifted one of Ichiro's legs over his shoulder once they were bare. He brushed a kiss to Ichiro's lower leg, then let their eyes meet, with one brow arched. "Ask."
Ichiro shivered and curled his leg, bearing down on Samatoki's back to lead him closer, close enough to kiss. Samatoki was so obliging, so doting. The perfect alpha, the perfect mate.
"No condom," Ichiro whispered against Samatoki's lips. "Not today. Not ever again."
Samatoki shivered against him, like he hadn't expected that. He pushed himself higher again, a flash of open, possessive desire sparking in his eyes as he raked his gaze down to Ichiro's lips, Ichiro's throat, and lower still.
"Do you know what you're asking, omega?" Samatoki murmured as he brushed one hand over Ichiro's stomach.
Ichiro was the one to shiver now, anticipation rippling through him like the beginnings of a storm. "I know."
"And you're—"
"I'm sure," Ichiro breathed, urgent, edging on desperate. "I'm so beyond sure, Samatoki-san, that all I want for my birthday is to not get one year older without giving you a child."
Samatoki caught Ichiro's chin in one hand and seared a kiss to his parted lips, licking into his mouth, hard and possessive, drawing a moan from Ichiro's throat.
"Careful," Samatoki growled, stroking a thumb over Ichiro's lower lip when he pulled back. "Keep talking like that and I just might take you seriously."
"Please," Ichiro whined, locking his legs around Samatoki's waist to keep him close, close enough to feel Samatoki's clothed arousal pressing up against his balls. "Please, won't you? I've been waiting, wanting it so bad, since the first time you touched me."
"Ichi." Samatoki swept a hand over Ichiro's brow, brushing his hair back and away from his forehead. "We talked about this. You will give me a child. You'll give me as many as I want."
Ichiro's breath hitched in his throat. He was pretty sure he could have come just from hearing that.
"But you're only just turning twenty, you've still got college to finish," Samatoki continued. "We've got all the time in the world to start our family. It can wait, I can wait."
Ichiro almost broke character at that; he had to catch his lower lip between his teeth to bite back a fond, nostalgic smile.
In reality, he was already closer to thirty than he was to twenty, but he still remembered the first time he leaned in to kiss Samatoki, all those years ago, when he had been only twenty years old.
He still remembered the way Samatoki had pulled back.
"No?" Ichiro had whispered.
Samatoki had sighed and avoided meeting Ichiro's gaze. "You're too young to be getting involved with a guy like me, Ichiro. Once all this is over, you'll finish high school, you'll go to college. You'll find yourself, and what you really want."
"So I need a college degree to kiss you?" Ichiro remembered how he had pouted, petulant and every bit as bratty as Samatoki was so fond of accusing him of being. "To love you?"
It was sweet—a little funny, maybe, but sweet—how even in these games they played, Samatoki was always a man who cared about Ichiro's well-being, above all else.
"But I can't," Ichiro protested, cupping Samatoki's face between his hands and drawing him down to let their foreheads brush. "I don't want to wait, Samatoki-san. I've been touching myself to fantasies of carrying your child since I was eighteen. I want a big family, and I know you do too. Can't we start now?"
Samatoki parted his lips, as though to protest again.
"I'll stay in school," Ichiro insisted, quickly. His whole chest was flushed with heat, with flames of arousal that spread through his whole body. There was something so dizzyingly hot about being the one to have to convince Samatoki, to beg for his seed. "I won't skip any classes, even when I'm big and swollen with your child. I'd want everyone to see it anyway, to know I can be the perfect omega for you."
Samatoki sighed and brushed his lips to Ichiro's. "I would make you skip," he chided softly. "I would keep you at home, at my side, all day long. Where I could see you, take care of you, every minute of every day."
Ichiro shivered and slid a hand between them, trailing his fingers down Samatoki's bare chest, to palm over his arousal through his sweats. "Please."
Samatoki groaned and rolled his hips forward, before pulling free from the circle of Ichiro's legs to push his own pants down and off. "Have you ever known me to say no to you?"
Ichiro grinned and threw his head back with a gasp when Samatoki settled between his legs again, letting his cock brush up against Ichiro's wet, waiting hold. Samatoki had gotten him all stretched and slick before they started, to be able to push right in now, like Ichiro's body was made to take him.
"Ask," Samatoki repeated, lining the head of his cock up with Ichiro's hole as he bowed his head to brush a kiss to Ichiro's racing pulse. "Ask again, real proper and nice."
"Please," Ichiro whispered, once more. His own hips twitched, but he was good, so good, to hold himself still, to stay patient and take only what Samatoki gave. "Fuck me raw and knock me up, alpha. Please, please, pl—"
Ichiro all but yelled when Samatoki thrust into him all at once, setting a rhythm of hard, fast thrusts right away, without waiting for Ichiro to adjust. Ichiro had been so on edge for so long, ever since they started talking about this, that he came in what felt like seconds. But Samatoki fucked him through it, groaning as Ichiro clenched around him, his body, his instincts, inviting Samatoki deeper.
Samatoki fucked into him until Ichiro was helpless to do anything but gasp and moan Samatoki's name. He hooked his hands under Ichiro's knees and pressed Ichiro's legs down towards his head, folding him practically in half as he drove his cock into Ichiro again and again, until he finally pushed in to the hilt and came deep inside with a groan he muffled against Ichiro's lips.
Ichiro was almost too beside himself with pleasure to kiss back. He let his tongue twine with Samatoki's, desperate to have more of him inside, for longer, forever. He whined when Samatoki pulled back, hastily, clumsily sliding a hand between his own legs to push two fingers into his own hole, as though to not waste a single drop of Samatoki's come.
Samatoki only breathed a laugh against Ichiro's lips, letting two of his own fingers join Ichiro's, filling him back up enough to entice a breathy sigh of satisfaction from his throat.
"I have… tests," Ichiro whispered, once they'd taken a moment to breathe. He'd slid his own fingers out to fist his hands in the sheets, gripping tight, toes curling with shocks of pleasure, as Samatoki continued to finger his slick, sensitive hole.
Samatoki hummed and curved his fingers inside Ichiro, rubbing up against a spot that made Ichiro gasp and thrash. "Presumptuous."
Ichiro peeked at Samatoki, grinning. "Was I wrong to be prepared?"
Samatoki's only answer was to slide a third finger inside Ichiro, to milk another orgasm out of him. He grabbed the lube they'd used earlier as well, pumping even more into Ichiro's already slick hole, letting it make a mess of his inner thighs, like he really was an omega whose biology couldn't resist his alpha.
"Nah," Samatoki murmured, once Ichiro had come again, so dizzyingly hard that he'd long since forgotten what he'd asked. "Go take one, then."
Ichiro needed another moment—a long, long moment—to regain his bearings before he could drag himself to the side of the bed and stagger to his feet. Samatoki followed him up, of course, and hovered over him as they made their way into the bathroom, staying close enough for Ichiro to lean on him as much as he needed.
Once they were inside, Ichiro leaned against the sink and grabbed one of the pregnancy tests Samatoki had brought in there earlier. He picked a box at random and started to read the instructions, only to look up and blink when he heard a distinct snicker from over his shoulder.
Ichiro grinned and gave Samatoki a nudge. "What?"
"You're reading the instructions?" Samatoki whispered.
"Yeah? Never used one before."
"Because…"
Ichiro had to think it over for a beat before he got what Samatoki was driving at. He almost cringed at himself when he realized. Of course he'd never used one before; he wasn't actually an omega, omegas weren't even real. And, for those same reasons, he obviously didn't actually need to know exactly how a pregnancy test worked.
"Shut up," Ichiro murmured with a laugh, checking his shoulder into Samatoki's again. "It's… realism, you know?"
Samatoki huffed a laugh too, and pressed a kiss to Ichiro's temple. "Sure, sure. Realism."
Ichiro only took a second longer to get the general gist of the instructions. He just had to pee on the stick, right? He lifted the toilet seat and did just that, careful not to make a mess. Samatoki wrapped his arms around Ichiro's waist once Ichiro was done, hugging Ichiro's back to his chest as Ichiro set the test down on a paper towel on the counter.
Then they waited, and waited, and waited until—
"Negative," Ichiro murmured, sounding genuinely disappointed, forlorn. Like there could have been any other outcome.
Samatoki brushed a kiss to his nape and slid his hands to Ichiro's hips. "'s okay. Just means we'll try again."
Ichiro parted his lips to agree, but didn't even get a whole word out before Samatoki pushed his cock into him again right there, making him yelp and grab the edge of the counter in surprise. He groaned as Samatoki started to fuck him again, right there in the bathroom, in front of the mirror above the sink.
"H-here?" Ichiro gasped. "N-now?"
"No time like the present," Samatoki whispered. He nipped at Ichiro's ear before sliding one hand into Ichiro's hair, pulling his head up a little, making him lift his gaze to the mirror. "Eyes forward, Ichiro. Maybe you'll see it. The exact second I put a baby in you."
Ichiro groaned and gripped the counter harder, until his hands started to hurt. He shifted his hold to brace himself better, wantonly driving his own hips back to meet Samatoki's thrusts, all while doing his best to obey—to keep his eyes on the mirror, on his flushed and panting reflection. He was so thoroughly wrecked and disheveled already, and yet his expression said it all.
He wanted even more.
Just as he felt another orgasm threatening to overwhelm him, with Samatoki's cock stroking his insides and Samatoki's hand jerking him off, Samatoki stopped and pulled out, so abruptly that tears of protest sprang up into Ichiro's eyes.
But Samatoki didn't leave him waiting for long. He pulled Ichiro back from the counter and hoisted him up into his arms, sliding his cock back into Ichiro as Ichiro flailed his arms out with another yelp of surprise. One of Ichiro's hands found the door, holding on for some support as Samatoki started to fuck him again, lifting him up high enough for Ichiro to see Samatoki's cock pumping in and out of him in the mirror.
"This time," Samatoki whispered. "This time for sure."
When Samatoki thrust in deep and came with his teeth clamped down on the flesh of Ichiro's shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, Ichiro could so easily imagine that he could see Samatoki's come filling him up, making his belly swell. Ichiro's own orgasm came practically as soon as Samatoki wrapped a hand around his cock again, stroking just twice before making Ichiro shudder and come.
Ichiro lifted a hand to his own stomach then, as Samatoki kissed his throat and carefully stepped back to sit at the edge of the tub, with his cock still buried inside Ichiro. He laid a hand over Ichiro's, laced their fingers together, and kissed over Ichiro's hammering pulse again and again, until Ichiro, still breathing hard from exertion, turned to seek a kiss from his lips.
When they took another test—
"Should I just run it under the tap, do you think?" Ichiro whispered when he opened up a second test.
Samatoki grinned into the crook of his shoulder. "What about realism?"
"Screw realism," Ichiro complained. "I can't piss again that fast."
—and got another negative, they didn't even make it back to bed for their next round, their next try. Samatoki fucked Ichiro on the floor of their bedroom, like they couldn't stand to take two extra seconds, two extra steps, to get back into bed.
Ichiro was coming dry by then, and Samatoki probably was too. But Samatoki kept Ichiro feeling slick and almost deliriously full; they went through a whole bottle of lube and opened up another, making a thorough mess of Ichiro's hole, the sheets, the floor.
When they had to eat, Samatoki let Ichiro stagger into the kitchen to cook. He took a seat at the kitchen table and watched Ichiro stumble around on unsteady legs, stroking his own cock until it was hard again.
"Samatoki," Ichiro whined, when Samatoki slid into him yet again, while he was still at the counter, stirring together a dressing for the salad he'd thrown together. "In the kitchen?"
"No?" Samatoki murmured, smiling as he pressed his lips to Ichiro's shoulder.
Ichiro sighed, back arching with pleasure as Samatoki started to thrust in and out, real slow this time, just how Ichiro needed it, wanted it, when he was already so sensitive. "Not no, but… it's unsanitary."
Samatoki hummed like he had to consider that point, before he cupped Ichiro's cheek to draw him into a kiss. "Then we'll clean up after ourselves. We'll be doing this a lot more from now on, after all."
"We will?" Ichiro's breath gave an audible hitch, right as Samatoki gave him a harder, deeper thrust.
"Mm. We'll be busier, once we have our kids around. I'll have to fuck you whenever we get the chance. When they're down for a nap, and you're in the kitchen, getting their afternoon snack ready…"
Ichiro shivered and tensed, clenching around Samatoki, desperate to keep him talking. "You'll come in and help yourself?"
"Can't I?"
"Please," Ichiro gasped. "You know you can."
"Wouldn't be able to resist," Samatoki promised, brushing his lips over the livid red mark he'd left on Ichiro's shoulder. "When I see you here, cooking for our family, with our next kid growing inside you—"
Ichiro moaned and came again. Samatoki kissed him through it, fucked him through it, their food all but forgotten until he filled Ichiro with his come once more.
After another test, and another negative, Ichiro flumped back against their pillows and flung an arm over his eyes.
"Why?" he rasped, with a watery waver in his voice, with tears prickling again at the corners of his eyes. "Why won't it happen, when I want it so bad?"
Samatoki lay down beside him after a moment. He stroked a hand over Ichiro's stomach, brushed a kiss to the corner of Ichiro's lips. "Who says it hasn't?"
Ichiro made a hopeful, inquisitive noise at the back of his throat.
"You're an omega, Ichiro," Samatoki whispered. "You're my omega. Carrying my child is what you were born to do."
Ichiro shivered. He could feel his cock twitch again already; Samatoki had always been so good at getting him hard, again and again and again, sometimes with little more than his words.
"Maybe those tests have gone bad," Samatoki went on. "How long ago did you buy them? How long have you been waiting for this?"
"Two years," Ichiro confessed.
Samatoki hummed, still stroking small, soothing circles into Ichiro's skin with his thumb, ones that made Ichiro shiver with comfort, with delight. "We'll get new ones, but Ichi—do you really think we need them?"
Ichiro slid his arm from his eyes, peeking down at Samatoki. He lifted his head, his breath hitching again, when he saw Samatoki had brought over their biggest toy, one Ichiro had picked out for himself, one that gave him a faint but visible bulge in his abdomen when he took it fully inside. There was a question in Samatoki's eyes when Ichiro met his gaze, one which Ichiro met with a rapid, eager nod.
Samatoki bit back a smile, laying the thick, long toy between Ichiro's legs and nudging the head of it up against Ichiro's hole. "Don't you feel it? Your body, accepting my seed, doing what it was made to do?"
Ichiro shivered, flushing hotter. "I feel… something. I feel right, but… but what if I want to be sure?"
"You will be," Samatoki promised. "I'll fuck you until you start to show, and even after that. I'll plug you up every time I finish, to keep you filled."
Ichiro bit back a hiss as Samatoki started to press that toy into him. He'd taken it before, even when Samatoki had been sure there was no way it would fit, but it took some work each time. Even with how well-fucked Ichiro was, it took some time, some effort, to work the head inside him.
Samatoki was so careful, so slow. He kissed Ichiro again and again, pulling back often to gauge his reaction, his comfort. He gave the length of the toy to Ichiro bit by bit, working it in and out of him, making him gasp and writhe, until it was fully seated, with the flared base pressed flush to Ichiro's ass.
"You can see it, can't you?" Samatoki murmured. He took one of Ichiro's hands and led it to the bulge of the toy in his stomach, guiding Ichiro to curl his fingers on it, to press down on it. "You can feel it. How much I filled you up."
Ichiro groaned, pressing down harder on the toy he could feel inside of himself. "Y-yeah, I can feel it. Feels… feels good, Samatoki-san. It feels so good."
Samatoki laid a hand over Ichiro's and laced their fingers together as he brushed a kiss to Ichiro's brow. "That's how it feels," Samatoki whispered, "to be pregnant with my child."
Ichiro caught Samatoki's hand in his own and squeezed it tight. He could believe it so easily, when Samatoki said it with such confidence, such certainty. He could believe it even with a dozen, a hundred tests telling him otherwise.
But—
It was still his birthday. If he wanted to be a little unreasonable, for a little while longer, he was allowed. Wasn't he?
"One more time," he pleaded, when he turned to kiss Samatoki again. "Once more, just to be sure."
Samatoki laughed with something like wonderment, almost disbelief. But he didn't wait, didn't hesitate, to roll to his knees between Ichiro's legs, to give Ichiro anything and everything he desired.