Chapter Text
Every year, Samatoki returns to Ikebukuro for just one day.
His mother’s birthday.
This year, he's gelled back his hair and donned a royal blue shirt and a white suit. He carries a single white lily in one hand and a convenience store donburi bowl in the other.
Nemu used to join him on these trips, but not anymore.
At his destination, two grave markers say “Aohitsugi,” but he doesn't spare a glance at the other one just yet. Samatoki kneels, lays down his offerings, and starts telling his mother about the past year of his life, all the while toying with the black and white bracelet on his wrist. He finishes with a small prayer. Then he stands up, turns to the other grave, spits on it, and walks away.
Samatoki’s mood is somber and contemplative by the time he's on his way back to the Ikebukuro train station, and he's reminiscing on the time when this territory belonged to him.
Of course, no matter whose territory it is, Samatoki will never ignore a poor soul in clear need of help.
He bristles when he passes by an alley and detects the pheromones of a projecting group of alphas, which can never be a good sign. Samatoki reaches into his blazer for his microphone and steps into the alley.
“Come on out, sweetheart, I can smell you.”
“Don't be scared, we just wanna talk.”
“Why you acting so unfriendly?”
That's all he needs to hear.
Without further hesitation, Samatoki activates his mic and knocks the group of alphas to the ground with a single verse. Squinting into the darkness, he can almost make out a small figure peeking out from behind the dumpster.
But before he can even speak a reassuring word, the omega’s pheromones suddenly wash over him in a wave.
Samatoki has heard of ‘linked’ pairs, alpha and omega couples who claim to have known from the moment they met that they were each other’s perfect match, just from the scent of each other’s pheromones. He’s always thought that was a load of bullshit, a fantasy akin to ‘love at first sight’. Obviously, any alpha with a working nose could appreciate the scent of an omega in heat, and vice versa. But a pheromone so sweet it could make your mouth water, so tantalizing it could take over your brain? It just sounded ridiculous.
And yet. The scent of the omega hiding in this alley couldn't be described as anything short of intoxicating. Of all the omegas in heat that Samatoki has ever been around, none have had such an immediate physiological effect on him, activating his salivary glands, dilating his pupils, and even making his chest swell with a protective instinct that drives his steps forward, closer to the source of the scent.
But before he can get a good look at them, a familiar voice calls out to him through the darkness.
“Aohitsugi Samatoki?”
Why on earth is it him?! Saburo thinks in a near-panic.
Ever since he and Jiro were rescued from that hostage situation years ago and he first got a taste of the older man’s pheromones, Saburo has been doing a perfectly fine job hiding his huge crush on Samatoki, thank you very much. It helps that Saburo has never had to interact with him directly, only catching glimpses of his handsome face in ads and on stage during rap battles, and sometimes in passing backstage. It also helps that until today, since Saburo hadn't presented yet, his own pheromones hadn't developed either. And Samatoki’s attention has always been focused on Ichiro anyway, all of these things combining to leave Saburo to pine in peace.
But right now, when he's deep in the throes of his very first heat that struck suddenly on his way home from high school, and the incredibly handsome leader of Mad Trigger Crew has suddenly appeared in Ikebukuro, dressed like that, with his hair slicked back all sexy, only to swoop in like a guardian angel and rescue Saburo from the group of alphas that had sensed his heat and cornered him? And on top of that, now that Saburo's in heat, Samatoki’s pheromones have become ten times more delectable than before, making Saburo’s mouth actually water like he's some slobbering mutt?
Frankly, it's unfair. Saburo really never stood a chance.
“Yamada Saburo, is it? You still live nearby? Let me walk you home.”
Saburo’s always been weak to that low, sexy voice of Samatoki’s, and it only serves to worsen his heat symptoms. He ducks back behind the dumpster and wipes cooling sweat off his forehead, swiping his bangs out of his eyes, trying not to think about the fact that he's not even wearing a stylish outfit, just his school uniform. “Go away.”
“Is that any way to thank me, you damn brat?” Samatoki snaps back right away, but…was Saburo imagining the strain in his voice?
“If you couldn't tell, I'm having a…a bit of a situation.” Saburo mentally kicks himself for stammering and showing weakness. His nails dig into his sweaty palms. “Since you're an alpha, I'd appreciate it if you’d leave.”
There's a moment of silence so long and complete, Saburo almost wonders if Samatoki really did leave without a sound. But then suddenly he speaks again.
“It's because I'm an alpha that I can't leave you alone in that state. You do know what's happening to you, right?”
Ugh, of all the cringe things to say…Saburo barely suppresses the high-pitched whine that threatens to climb out of his throat, and his thighs rub together all on their own.
But he definitely wasn't imagining the tension in Samatoki’s voice that time. Saburo’s heart pounds against his ribs and his brain whirrs at top speed to put two and two together. It feels almost too wishful to imagine, but…could his attraction to Samatoki actually be because they're ‘linked’? In that case, right now, because Saburo’s in heat, Samatoki must be…
Saburo vigorously shakes his head as if he can clear it of the lewd slideshow of fantasies that suddenly dance through his vision, and his hands scramble to cover the growing problem in his pants. “Of course I do. You're–You’re making it worse.”
So quietly that Saburo isn't sure if he imagined it, he hears what sounds like Samatoki cursing under his breath. “Fine. I'll call your idiot brother to come pick you up.”
“No!!” Saburo’s pulse kicks up at the thought of Ichi-nii – or worse, Jiro – seeing him like this, incapacitated by horniness of all things. But they aren't home right now anyway, so it wouldn't make a difference.
“No?” Samatoki’s voice is getting annoyed, but still he maintains a respectful distance out of Saburo’s line of sight. “You want me to just walk away and leave you here?”
“N-No.” This time, Saburo’s voice is barely a whisper.
Samatoki heaves an exasperated sigh. “Alright, brat. You won't let me walk you home, you won't let me call your brother, and I can't just leave you here. So what would you have me do?”
The more Samatoki talks in that sensual growl, the worse Saburo’s situation becomes, chest tightening, heat and slick pooling between his legs, enough that he decides it's worth making a bold, risky move.
“There's…a hotspot just down the block.”
The ‘hotspot’ in question is a love hotel with specialized scent-proof rooms where alphas and omegas in heat and rut can safely copulate without disturbing neighboring guests. Saburo holds his breath as he waits to hear Samatoki’s reply.
“Won't your brothers be expecting you home?”
“Ichi-nii is on a job until tomorrow, and Jiro is staying with a friend. So no.”
There's a heavy silence, and suddenly Saburo wishes he could see Samatoki’s expression. The anticipation might kill him if his heat doesn't manage it first. He rubs his legs together again, the growing wetness becoming uncomfortable.
“Fine. If that's what you want. Can you stand?”
Surprised that Samatoki actually agreed, Saburo takes a moment to register that he's been asked a question. “I–I can.”
He shakily gets to his feet, jelly legs barely supporting his weight, hand on the alley wall for support, but his pants are embarrassingly tight over his obvious boner, and he can't make himself step out from behind the dumpster.
“You sure?” Samatoki’s footsteps slowly get closer.
“Um…”
White hair and piercing red eyes peek around the side of the dumpster and take in Saburo's debauched appearance. His hair is plastered to his forehead again, his school shirt is unbuttoned from trying to cool himself off earlier, chest heaving with shallow breaths, and his legs are clamped together to try and hide his ‘situation.’ But Samatoki doesn't laugh at him, or so much as crack a smile.
“I'm fine with carrying you, if you don't want to walk around like that.”
Simultaneously, the thought fills Saburo with both terror and desire. But the latter emotion quickly wins out as the thought of being held and protected in Samatoki’s strong arms, surrounded by that delicious scent, dances through Saburo’s head, and suddenly he wants it more than anything in the world.
After the slightest hesitation, Saburo nods.
Samatoki takes Saburo’s backpack and slings it over his own shoulders, then steps into Saburo’s personal space, overwhelming him with his alpha pheromones. Samatoki’s scent is nothing like any of the alphas who had surrounded him earlier, which had all been varying shades of sharp and bitter. Samatoki’s is mellow, deep, sweet with just a hint of spice, and when he scoops Saburo up into his arms princess-style, Saburo shamelessly buries his face in Samatoki’s neck to fill his lungs with it. His slick must be close to soaking through his pants by now, but he can hardly bring himself to care.
A few minutes of walking and an exchange of words with the receptionist later (during which he can feel Samatoki’s voice reverberating through his body and it takes all of his willpower to stay still and silent), Saburo is being placed gently onto a hotel bed. All too soon, Samatoki’s scent and heat withdraw as he takes several steps back from the bed.
“Menu’s on the night table. Order whatever you want, it's all on me. You'd better call your brother sometime tonight though–”
“Wait!” Saburo feels panic fluttering in his chest as he takes in Samatoki’s words. “You're not…aren't you…going to stay with me?”
For the first time, Saburo is able to really look at Samatoki’s face in proper lighting, not just the dark alley. While Saburo had thought he'd looked so well-put-together at a distance, Samatoki somehow now looks like he's not much better off than Saburo. His mouth is pressed in a thin line, several stray hairs have escaped his previously impeccable hairstyle, and there's even a faint dusting of pink along his cheeks. At Saburo's words, his brows knit together and his forehead creases, and he even sounds breathless when he speaks.
“I'm way too old for you, kid.”
“I'm not a kid! We're linked, aren't we?”
Samatoki winces and presses his palms into his forehead. “I don't know. Fuck. Maybe. I didn't even think that shit was real. But you oughta take care of this by yourself.”
Saburo chews at his lip. He's masturbated before, and even watched porn before, but he's never fingered himself. The overwhelming desire to be filled by something can't outweigh the anxiety of never having had anything inside his body like that before, and he can feel his face burning up from the mere idea of it. It's easier to focus on that than on the heavy feeling of rejection settling into his chest at the thought that his linked alpha doesn't want him. The corners of his eyes are starting to sting.
But for the second time in as many minutes, Samatoki is there to rescue him again, this time by speaking for him, his face softening sympathetically. “You don't have a damn clue what to do, do ya?”
At those words, Saburo can't help himself from finally starting to cry.
“It's–It's not my fault! It's not like they teach this stuff in school, and–and I couldn't embarrass myself by asking Ichi-nii–”
Samatoki quickly closes the distance between them, sitting beside Saburo on the bed and wrapping his strong arms around Saburo’s trembling torso, rubbing firm circles into his back.
“Easy, kid, I gotcha.”
Samatoki’s jaw is tense as he holds Saburo, who is now crying into his chest, clinging to his jacket, and positively oozing distress pheromones; at this point, Samatoki leaving him like this would be physically painful for both of them. He’d suggested Saburo take care of himself as an alternative to hooking up with a much older man, but deep down, Samatoki knew it had been a cruel suggestion. No self-respecting alpha would leave their omega to deal with their very first heat by themselves. Samatoki takes a deep breath and places a hand on top of Saburo’s head, patting him gently.
“Look…I’ll show you the ropes if that's really what you want. But I need to hear you ask for it, you got it? Don't make me play guessing games and end up doing something you hate.”
Saburo nods into Samatoki’s chest. His fingers curl into fists in the crisp white blazer, and he takes a deep breath of his own, inhaling that intoxicating scent. “I…I want you to help me.”
Samatoki gently peels himself away from Saburo enough that he can reach for the menu on the bedside table. Just because Saburo wants him to stay doesn't mean they have to go all the way…although Samatoki can't deny that his body wants that more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. He'll hold himself back, for this young omega’s comfort.
Saburo curiously peers at the menu, but quickly ducks back into Samatoki’s chest when he sees that it isn't a menu for food, but for…adult toys.
“What's the matter?”
“I don't want those.”
“You didn't even look at em.”
“I don't care, I don't want them. They won't help me.”
Saburo is nuzzling into Samatoki, clinging to him, and all but humping his leg. If he doesn't want to peruse the toy menu, then he probably wants ‘the real thing’ from Samatoki, but as badly as he wants that too, he doesn't want to assume. Samatoki lightly messes up Saburo's hair.
“What’d I just say? You gotta tell me what you do want then.”
Saburo grumbles into Samatoki’s chest. “I already told you what I want. Stop teasing me.”
Samatoki exhales shakily and tosses the menu aside. He grabs Saburo by the shoulders and looks straight into his mismatched eyes, now wide with shock at the sudden movement.
“You're the one teasing me, you brat. I told you not to make me play guessing games. I'll give you anything you want, but you gotta ask me for it, you got it?”
At that, Saburo can't hold back a moan, his hips bucking up of their own accord to seek friction. Samatoki’s eyes flick downward, then narrow to slits, his breath quickening and grip tightening on Saburo’s shoulders.
“I–I want you to touch me,” Saburo breathes, his restraint flying all the way out the window as it finally sinks in that his longtime crush, who he'd forever thought of as unattainable, actually wants him just as badly. His hands boldly come up to grab Samatoki by the white lapels of his blazer and pull him in. "Kiss me."
Their mouths crash together in a tangle of teeth and tongues, Saburo’s lips eagerly parting to let Samatoki shove his tongue down his throat, tasting every corner of his mouth and nipping at his lips. Saburo whines when Samatoki's lips pull away to kiss down his jaw and neck instead, his long-fingered hands deftly unbuttoning Saburo’s shirt to expose the pale expanse of his chest and his small pink nipples. Saburo pulls the shirt off and tosses it over the side of the bed, then lies back against the pillows, pulling Samatoki down with him.
One after the other, Samatoki sucks on those nipples hard enough to make Saburo cry out, but only for a moment before moving on to kiss all over his stomach, and Saburo spreads his legs so Samatoki can settle between them. He reaches for Saburo's pants, hesitating for a moment until Saburo nods, panting heavily, the view of Samatoki's face so close to his crotch making him throb and his hips twitch. Unsure what else to do with his hands, Saburo boldly places them on top of Samatoki’s head as he tugs down Saburo's pants to let his swollen dick spring free.
It's hard as a rock and leaking enough precome to wet the front of his underwear. Samatoki's eyes flick briefly upward, taking in Saburo's dazed expression and smirking a bit before ducking his head to take it into his mouth. Saburo gasps out loud, his fingers twitching against Samatoki's hair as he swirls his tongue around the tip and then swallows down the entire thing to the base.
“Samatoki!”
Samatoki grumbles and pulls off. “That bastard older brother of yours didn't teach you any manners or what? It's ‘Samatoki-san’, you damn brat.”
“S-Samatoki-san…” The honorific comes out as a needy whine, and his fingers unconsciously tighten into Samatoki’s hair.
Samatoki wraps one hand around Saburo and jerks him off slowly, the other hand slipping down to swipe one finger across his slick hole.
“Good boy. Was that so hard?”
“Ah-!” Saburo cries out, his hips twitching and his hole fluttering under Samatoki’s fingers, before relaxing and allowing him to slip one inside.
Samatoki lifts an eyebrow. “You like that? Being praised?”
“N-No…weirdo…don't talk to me like I'm some kid…a-ah!”
Another finger into Saburo’s wet and welcoming entrance. “So I shouldn't do it again then?”
“Mmm…” Saburo bites his lips and squeezes his eyes shut.
All too soon, Samatoki lets go of his dick and withdraws both hands.
Saburo’s eyes snap open incredulously. “Wha–hey!”
“How many times I gotta tell you not to make me play guessing games?” Samatoki growls, his crimson eyes narrowed at Saburo. “Did you like that or not? Answer me.”
Face reddening, Saburo gives Samatoki the most petulant frown he can manage, before averting his gaze to the side. “I…I liked it.”
“Should I do it more?”
“Yes!” The word is nearly a sob, but as soon as it's out, Samatoki mercifully goes back to touching Saburo, slipping two fingers back inside of him and wrapping his hand around Saburo’s dick again.
“Good boy. See what happens when you listen to me?”
“Mnn…ah!”
Saburo can only moan in response as Samatoki envelops the head of his cock with his warm mouth again, hollowing his cheeks and licking at the underside as he massages Saburo’s inner walls with his long, slim fingers. His hands land back in Samatoki’s hair again, and he feels a vibrating hum of approval around his cock that makes him gasp.
Another finger inside, and Saburo cries out again, his hips twitching up off the bed, ass clenching down onto Samatoki’s hand.
“Samatoki-san!”
“Hmm?” Samatoki looks up at Saburo through his lashes, his eyes smoldering hot as they rake over Saburo’s face. Saburo can only imagine what he looks like to Samatoki right now; his face feels warm, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and his breaths come quick and shallow. Samatoki removes his mouth again and gives the head a small kiss that makes Saburo whine. “Do you think you're ready for the real deal, or should I finger you some more?”
“I'm ready, please, I'm ready! I…” Saburo chokes over the words he wants to say next, his face on fire with embarrassment. But a sharp warning look from Samatoki and he grits his teeth to speak anyway. “I want you in…inside me already.”
A low growl climbs out of Samatoki's throat, and he doesn't take his eyes off Saburo as he sits up and starts stripping out of his clothes. Saburo is aware that his jaw is slack as he watches Samatoki slowly peel off his jacket and shirt, revealing his toned chest, defined abs, and to Saburo’s shock, a few more piercings.
“Did those hurt?”
Samatoki follows Saburo’s gaze to his nipples, and lets out a chuckle as he stands to remove his pants. “Yeah. Just for a second though.”
Having half-expected more piercings below the belt, Saburo is almost surprised to be faced with a completely normal cock when Samatoki gets back onto the bed and kneels between his legs. It should feel weird, maybe even scary, seeing one this close in real life, after only looking at his own and the ones he's seen in porn. But Saburo is so achingly hard that it just makes his mouth water. His fists curl into the bedsheets at his side.
Samatoki tugs at Saburo’s pants and underwear, removing them completely and tossing them aside, and now they're both completely naked, skin to skin, his bare thighs resting on top of Samatoki’s. With his prize so close at hand, Saburo’s empty hole twitches with want, and he bites his lip to suppress another moan. Every point of contact between them feels electric.
There's a quiet tearing sound and Saburo looks up to see the edge of a condom wrapper held between Samatoki’s teeth, the condom itself now being unrolled onto Samatoki’s dick. Saburo opens his mouth to protest, like the omegas do in porn all the time, but Samatoki cuts him off before he can get a word out.
“Don't even think about it. You're way too young to get knocked up, especially by someone like me.”
“I–I wasn't gonna say anything,” Saburo lies, pouting. But what his mind is stuck on is that ‘someone like me’ bit. What is that supposed to mean? He knows Samatoki is a yakuza, but he seems like a decent enough guy, doing all of this just for Saburo’s sake.
Without another word, Samatoki lines up the head of his cock with Saburo’s slick entrance and slowly starts to push inside. Immediately, the stretch, the fullness takes over his body and his thighs tense around Samatoki.
“Easy,” Samatoki murmurs, his hands finding their way to Saburo's waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “You're doing great. Just a little more.”
“Hah…” Saburo pants as he cranes his neck to watch Samatoki’s cock disappear into him inch by inch. The sight makes his head spin, and the feeling is like nothing he's ever felt before. He doesn't just feel satisfied when he's finally full of Samatoki. He feels whole, like a weight’s being lifted off his shoulders.
“Fuck, you're tight.” The words come out in a groan. Samatoki keeps rubbing circles into Saburo’s stomach, trying just as much to soothe him as to keep himself distracted while Saburo adjusts. It feels like heaven, and pleasure pheromones are coming off Saburo in waves that make Samatoki’s thighs tremble from the effort of not immediately thrusting hard and deep. “Taking me so well. Doesn't hurt, does it?”
“N–Not really.” Saburo’s face is hot and his head is tingling from Samatoki’s words of praise. “It feels weird.”
“It's because you're with an alpha,” Samatoki explains, and Saburo's wide green and blue eyes are back on Samatoki, making his breath hitch. The tiny moles on his face nearly blend in with the dark pink blush across his cheeks, and his lips are shiny and kissed swollen. Samatoki swallows hard. “There's some sciencey shit to it, you can look it up later.”
Samatoki’s pheromones are dizzyingly potent. Despite his words and calm tone, Saburo can tell he's reaching his limit, but to be honest, he's not much better off himself. “You can…you can move now.”
Letting out a shaky breath, Samatoki slowly withdraws his hips, and then pushes back in.
“Ah!” Saburo’s arms lift off the sheets and grab at Samatoki’s wrists where his hands are still wrapped around his waist.
“Too much?”
“No, it's–good. M-More.”
That's all the invitation he needs. Samatoki leans over Saburo, bracing one arm on the pillow beside him, the other still gripping his waist, and starts fucking him slow and deep, each thrust drawing little breaths out of Saburo that drive Samatoki crazy.
“You did so good, telling me what you want,” Samatoki manages, despite his breathing starting to become labored from the exertion, sweat beading on his forehead. “Always knew you were a smart one.”
Saburo whines, his face going pink again from the praise, and Samatoki smirks at the adorable sight. He rewards Saburo by bending down for another kiss, their lips slotting together as Saburo’s legs lock around his waist, and his arms come up to wrap around Samatoki’s neck.
“Mmng–!” Saburo moans into Samatoki’s mouth. Samatoki’s scent surrounds him, overwhelming him with the sensation of being filled so deeply and completely, hips thrusting harder and faster against Saburo’s ass until he's nearly bent in half.
Saburo's hands grasp at Samatoki’s back, not scratching with his nails, but searching for…something, and he isn't sure what it is until Samatoki’s hand leaves his waist to peel Saburo’s hand off of him and interlock their fingers together against the sheets. He whines at that, mouth disconnecting from Samatoki’s and tilting his head back as far as he can, exposing his throat and the scent glands under his ears.
“Samatoki-san, can–can you please–can you–do that?”
“Do what?” Samatoki’s voice is strained and breathless, but his red eyes are raking hungrily over Saburo’s neck, like he knows exactly what Saburo is trying to ask for.
“M-Mate me,” Saburo moans, nearly in tears. “Make me y-yours. Please!”
Samatoki squeezes Saburo’s hand and leans over him again, this time bringing his mouth to the side of Saburo’s neck and licking the side of it, kissing hard and sucking on that sweet taste of Saburo's pheromones right from the source. Then he rubs his own gland against Saburo’s, trading and mingling their scents together.
“Saburo…you're mine,” Samatoki growls into his ear. His hips had slowed their thrusting while he focused on mating Saburo, but he starts again in earnest, pounding into the omega under him, fucking him deep and hard like he's trying to breed him, and Samatoki’s not sure whether he resents the condom or is grateful for it. He switches sides and does the same thing to the other side of Saburo’s neck, thoroughly marking both glands with his own pheromones as he fills Saburo with his cock.
“You're such a perfect little omega,” Samatoki murmurs into Saburo’s ear. “Behaving so well, telling me what you want. Good boy, Saburo.”
“Samatoki-san!” Saburo cries out and clings tightly to Samatoki’s body as he comes, his walls clenching down tightly around Samatoki and his little cock squirting white liquid all over his stomach.
“Fuck…Can I knot you?” Samatoki looks into the mismatched blue and green eyes of the sweet young omega beneath him who now thoroughly belongs to him, and the blissed out smile on Saburo's face as he nods enthusiastically is enough to send Samatoki over the edge right then. He can feel his knot swelling inside the condom, and he thrusts impossibly deep, locking himself into Saburo’s body, bending down to devour the boy’s mouth again and joining the two of them completely.
Samatoki knows that being properly knotted and mated is the best way to alleviate an omega’s severe heat symptoms, and Samatoki tells himself that's the main reason he did it. Maybe Saburo knows it too, subconsciously, instinctively, and that's why he wanted this so badly.
Saburo squeezes Samatoki’s hand, and his other hand threads through the hair on the back of Samatoki’s head as their kiss becomes slow and sensual. Saburo’s hips keep moving slowly, grinding against Samatoki, tightening his legs to try and pull his knot deeper into his body. Samatoki lifts his other hand to cup Saburo’s face, thumb swiping over his cheek and pressing gently into the mole on his chin.
Finally, after several minutes, Samatoki can feel his knot starting to go down in size, enough that he's able to pull out of Saburo, who immediately whines at the loss of contact.
“What?” Samatoki says with a gentle laugh, sitting up and ruffling Saburo’s hair. “Don't tell me that wasn't enough for you?”
“Don't make fun of me!” Saburo pouts, still lying back on the pillows, probably too tired to sit up. But a glance down shows his cock is already standing at attention again. “I'm still in heat, you know. I don't know how long it's supposed to last.”
Samatoki averts his gaze. “Could be a couple of days, but it might be sooner since I mated you. Your brother is gonna kill me when he finds out.”
Saburo scoffs. “What, am I his property? It's my body.”
“You wouldn't understand,” Samatoki snaps back.
“Yeah, I guess you have to be a brocon or a siscon to get it.”
Samatoki’s jaw drops. “Who the hell taught you those?!”
“Don't worry about it,” Saburo smirks. “Anyway, I'm not gonna tell him, so you can relax already.”
At that, Samatoki realizes he's sitting tensely on the edge of the bed, and Saburo looks awfully lonely lying on the bed alone with no one beside him. Samatoki sighs. He's itching for a cigarette, but he can't just abandon his freshly mated omega who's still in heat, and he doesn't want to smoke in the room either. So he scoots himself over and lies down next to Saburo, pulling the sheets up over both of them and grabbing the menu he tossed aside earlier.
“Even if you don't tell him, he'll notice your scent has changed.”
“...Maybe. But I don't have to tell him it's you.”
“You little punk. You hungry? They got fancy ass room service here.”
Saburo cuddles up to Samatoki, draping one arm over his chest and peering at the menu. To his surprise, there actually is a food section in the back, past all the sex toys. “Do they have pasta?”
“Yeah. Here, check it out.”
Samatoki hands him the menu and then wraps his arm over Saburo’s shoulders. He can feel something hard still pressing into his leg, but it seems the most intense part of Saburo’s heat has lapsed, so he can wait for round two until they've gotten some fuel into their bodies (and Samatoki’s refractory period passes. Damn teens and their stamina.)
After they share a big plate of pasta pescatore (“What do you mean you've never had it before? You have to try it!” Of course, Samatoki couldn't say no to that bright-eyed excitement) Samatoki finally finds a moment to put on a bathrobe and step out onto the balcony for a smoke.
He sits down on one of the two chairs on the balcony and lights up, and the first drag quells his addiction just like it's meant to. But strangely, it's nowhere near the best thing he's tasted that day.
Unexpectedly, the balcony door slides open, and out steps Saburo in a matching bathrobe. “Can I join you?”
“Yeah, if you don't mind my smoke.”
“I don't mind.”
But instead of sitting on the other chair, Saburo makes a beeline for Samatoki, not waiting for an invitation before settling himself down into Samatoki's lap. Samatoki only lets himself be stunned for a moment before curling his free arm around Saburo’s waist, allowing his omega to settle back into his chest.
His omega. What a strange thought. But he could get used to it, he thinks. He takes a drag off his cigarette, trying carefully to blow the smoke away from Saburo.