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Nanami Kento gritted his teeth, suppressing a growl at the familiar pressure on the back of his neck. The pain rarely lasted more than a second now, but for that singular moment, he always felt the violent urge to fight back.
Once those fangs were embedded in his neck though, all tension drained from his body and he would find himself loose and limp against whatever surface he had been held down against. That part depended on the whims of his partner.
Sometimes, when he was feeling charitable, he took Nanami on a bed or a couch. Other times, he pinned him flat to the nearest wall and did as he pleased. Today was one of the charitable days though.
“Feel better?”
Nanami loathed that question. He closed his eyes against the sickening sound of teeth leaving his nape and sighed with what he refused to acknowledge as desire.
“C’mon, you can admit it, Nanamin.” Gojo Satoru licked at the bite while easing his cock past the relaxed rim of his ass. “Your body gets so nice and sweet after I do that.”
“You’re delusional,” Nanami grunted, fisting the bed sheets beneath him. He hatefully breathed in a lungful of Gojo’s scent. It was everywhere given they had retreated to his personal villa for Nanami’s rut.
This far away from the school, the students, the distraction of curses—they could relax.
When exactly did the scent of deep winter and brimming thunderstorms make his stomach curl with heat, he could no longer remember. It had been this way for so long already, he just accepted it as fact.
Over a decade ago while donning the same school uniforms and playing at simple student life, Nanami had come to understand there were more things in life to fear than just curses.
It was near the close of his second year.
Haibara Yu had already presented as a Beta and moved on with his life unperturbed. Geto Suguru had been an Alpha since Nanami first entered school and Ieiri Shoko had presented shortly after him as a Beta. The only ones left undesignated were himself and Gojo Satoru.
From the whispers and gossip, Nanami had surmised that hardly anyone cared about his late designation but everyone was obsessed with Gojo’s situation. Such was the nature of being a medical marvel. The heart and soul of sorcerer society. They were ready to devour any perceived weaknesses the Gojo Clan heir might present.
Being a late bloomer was easy pickings.
Nanami personally didn’t think much of it. His upperclassmen were all the same as ever. Goofy but ridiculously powerful. Whether or not Gojo Satoru popped a knot or developed a womb was hardly of concern to him.
Most days, he preferred to know less about Gojo.
With each new fact, it seemed that he was more and more aggravating. Not only was he responsible for littering candy wrappers in all the common spaces, but he also often took all the extra bread loaves at lunch and dinner, leaving nothing for Nanami to store away in the off hours. If that wasn’t bad enough, he always seemed to be the first one to spot Nanami after a mission had gone awry.
The last thing he wanted was to see Gojo’s smug face and hear his loud voice while struggling to patch himself up in the infirmary. Nanami already understood and accepted the vast gap in strength between them. He didn’t need Gojo fluttering around with his Infinity while poking and prodding at Nanami’s injuries.
It was after one such mission though that things went terribly sideways.
Nanami had twisted something and bruised many other things. He wasn’t quite sure but his entire body was sore and the infirmary would be the only place to find painkillers strong enough to allow him rest. The hour was too late already and his injuries hadn’t been severe enough to call in a doctor. He could’ve bothered Ieiri but it felt too minor still.
He was on his feet. Nothing broken. There was no need to be dramatic.
Sighing, he slid the door open and staggered toward the medicine cabinet. He shrugged off his tattered uniform jacket and loosened his button down. Dried sweat clung to his neck and joints unpleasantly. A shower next then.
He had just opened up the medicine cabinet to rummage through when he heard the door rattle.
Turning around, he saw eerie blue eyes glowing in the dark hallway.
Nanami scowled. “Gojo-senpai, why are you here?” He lowered his arm, bottle of painkillers in one fist. “Don’t you have a mission?” The hour was late but Gojo had also been taking on more and more assignments recently. It wasn’t unusual for him to be gone for days at a time.
He took a step into the infirmary, swaying slightly. There was a feverish flush to his usually pale skin. It was only then Nanami noticed how disheveled his uniform looked. The jacket hung open and his shirt underneath was missing a few buttons. From this distance, Nanami couldn’t be sure, but he could’ve sworn Gojo was sweating profusely.
For someone who rarely had to exert any effort, seeing him like this immediately set off alarm bells.
Nanami tensed but had no recourse. He could never outrun Gojo and he certainly couldn’t beat him in a one-on-one. Or even with a group. In his current condition, Nanami was even more uncertain of his odds.
What’s wrong with him?
He frowned, edging one foot back and earning a snarl for it.
He froze.
Gojo was on him in an instant.
Rather than being killed, Nanami found himself thrown against the desk, folders and papers flying. A glass jar of cotton balls shattered somewhere in the distance and he was vaguely aware of a lamp being toppled.
None of that mattered though as he clawed at Gojo’s clothes, struggling to breathe with a tongue shoved in his mouth and sharp teeth grazing his bottom lip every time he gasped for air.
Gojo’s hand cupped the back of his head, offering less comfort and more fear. Nanami could feel the curve of his long fingers over his skull and the curl of nails in his hair. One wrong move and it would be so easy for Gojo to snap his neck. Perhaps even tear his head clean off.
He tried to relax in Gojo’s hold, for the first time wishing he was designated as an Omega. They were known for having calming pheromones, right? Whatever was happening now seemed like it needed a chemical intervention.
Gojo turned him around and shoved him down. He twisted Nanami’s head to the side, a rumbling noise bubbling up from his throat as he pressed a hot, wet mouth to his neck.
“Gojo-senpai—!” he barely got the words out before screaming in pain.
The burn of teeth tearing through flesh shouldn’t have felt worse than a curse slicing through him, but somehow it did. Nanami felt his eyes roll back, body convulsing against the desk as Gojo’s teeth sank deeper, deeper, deeper—
Abruptly, the weight of him disappeared and voices were shouting all around. Nanami struggled to take in a breath, muscles refusing to listen even as the pain receded to a dull throbbing. He slumped to the floor and watched through blurry eyes as Gojo was held back by Geto Suguru and what looked to be a large mass of cursed energy.
That was all Nanami remembered of that night.
“What are you thinking about, Nanami?” Gojo’s voice drew him back, their hips rocking together as he fucked him lazily. Too lazily for a rut.
Despite that, Nanami could do nothing about the frustration. His body was constantly at war ever since that night. The Alpha-born desire to hold Gojo down and make him submit often, if not always, lost to the overwhelming need to be held down himself.
It was humiliating.
“Nothing,” he grunted.
To be at the height of a rut with nothing to soothe his own knot was infuriating. And yet his body still cried out and opened up for Gojo’s thick cock as if he had a womb to breed.
Nanami dug his teeth into the bedsheets, taking petty revenge on—Gojo? Himself? His weakness? Regardless, he buried his growls and groans in the bed while refusing to allow Gojo’s nonsensical ramblings to get to him. It would’ve been normal to be less chatty mid-fuck but not with Gojo.
Somehow, thrusting into Nanami’s body only gave his ramblings a different rhythm. When he laughed, it was a bit more breathless. When he teased, he would be sure the words were tucked against Nanami’s ear, fiercely intimate and indulgent. And when he was getting closer to coming, he would stretch his teeth back over that bloody bite, daring Nanami to guess if he would sink in again or have mercy this time.
The one time Nanami had reflexively tried to protect the scar from being torn open again, Gojo had pinned him down hard enough to bruise and locked his jaw around the bite mark until Nanami passed out.
It was a lesson well learned.
“Your body has become like this because of me, yeah?” Gojo chuckled, sounding high on pheromones and his own arrogance.
Nanami refused to indulge it.
“Do you think that’s why you’re so lucid right now?” Gojo went on, curling fingers around Nanami’s jaw and forcing him up.
His body arched off the sheets, being pressed back against Gojo’s broad chest. Spread and speared open, Nanami gasped as his head was forced further back to meet Gojo’s kiss. It was relatively chaste compared to how they usually defiled each other and Nanami found himself somewhat relieved.
“You don’t go wild during ruts because I’m here,” Gojo murmured, sharp canines scraping his bottom lip. “Aren’t you glad you have me?”
Nanami glared at him as best he could in his position. “I won’t praise you for taking responsibility for a mistake you made.”
Gojo went quiet.
After that night in the infirmary, it had taken a month or so for the long-term consequences to become apparent. Nanami had been examined extensively and even subjected to harassment by Gojo clan elders (a short-lived affair that Gojo assured him would not happen again). Everyone told him that he was undesignated at the time of the attack so there would be no issues beyond a minor infection and perhaps scarring.
And then Nanami had presented as an Alpha.
The relief of everyone had been palpable.
This was even more proof that the Bonding bite hadn’t done anything. It wasn’t feasible for Alphas to Bond with one another in that way. Surely, this meant that Nanami could move on with his life now.
Said relief was quickly replaced by dread when his first rut occurred in the middle of a training session. Geto and Gojo were present and prepared to subdue him if he lost his mind, but it was unnecessary.
The moment Gojo stepped close enough to scent him, the submission was instant.
Nanami collapsed forward and buried his face in Gojo’s neck. He took in lungfuls of air as if Gojo’s scent could fulfill every need.
To this day, it remained one of the most mortifying moments of his life.
He had jerked back, flustered and confused by his own behavior. Meanwhile, Gojo’s eyes had been sparkling with a pleasure that Nanami couldn’t decipher back then.
Even now, he couldn’t quite read Gojo’s feelings. All he knew was that for the last decade, Gojo had diligently joined him for every rut, proclaiming it was the only way to properly take responsibility for causing his body’s irregularities.
Nanami still wasn’t sure if it was Gojo’s fault but all evidence pointed at that conclusion. There was simply no medical knowledge that could explain it.
Consequently, they decided to do what they knew worked.
“Wanna knot my throat?”
Nanami shook his head, feeling too subdued to care about something like Alpha pride. That had been fucked out of him a long time ago. If he made any protests anymore, they were purely for show and to keep some semblance of sanity. In the end, he could only listen to his body’s constant yearning for Gojo. Ridiculous. “Just finish.”
“Where?”
He snarled at Gojo who merely smiled and pecked the tip of his nose.
Nanami refused to answer, body being jostled every time Gojo snapped his hips forward. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—admit that he needed Gojo to come inside for his own body to trigger release. This wasn’t a matter of wanting. Somehow at some point, he found it impossible to come during a rut without Gojo’s seed.
Closing his eyes against that humiliating truth, Nanami sighed.
“I won’t know how to make you feel good unless you tell me, Nanamin,” Gojo whined into his ear, slowing down and nestling all the way to the hilt as he pressed him back down to the sheets. He ground his hips against the curve of Nanami’s ass with unbridled pleasure.
Nanami choked on a gasp, swollen cock being forced to rub against the bedsheets. “Just—”
“—in detail, Nanami-kun,” he drawled. “Tell me what you want and where. Be explicit.” Gojo flicked his tongue over the stinging, bleeding bite.
Nanami shuddered. He clenched his fists in the bedding and struggled against the comforting weight of Gojo pressing him down. Why did he have to suffer through this every time? Why did he have to submit to Gojo’s whims just to get some much needed release?
“Inside,” Nanami ground out, “Come inside, Gojo-san.” His breath stuttered as Gojo nuzzled his hair and kissed down his shoulder.
“Good job. Such a perfect, good boy,” Gojo mouthed over the bite gently. His ramblings started up again with his thrusts, pouring out as if he couldn’t control himself.
The affection made Nanami’s muscles loosen up and he curled into Gojo’s touch, body flushing under the sudden onslaught of praise. He rolled onto his side as Gojo hooked an arm under his knee, spreading him wide and fucking him deep.
***
The first bite hadn’t been a conscious decision.
Regardless, Gojo found it to be the happiest accident of his life. Some part of him must’ve already known he wanted Nanami for himself at that age. He had once considered the possibility of it being fate. A force beyond their control that dictated the destiny between them seemed very appropriate for Gojo’s already incomprehensible existence.
For someone like him, surely the universe would prepare someone perfect to match.
Those musings entertained him for only a short time after Nanami presented as an Alpha and clung to him for comfort.
They had spent Nanami’s first rut together and subsequent ones as well. Throughout it all, Gojo kept particular attention on the Bond mark that had nearly scarred over. It hadn’t worried him at first. He knew the wound would heal eventually (albeit very slowly) and had seen what proper Bonding bites looked like.
The problem was that rather than their scents remaining intermingled, they were slowly separating as the mark healed more and more.
By the time it was fading from fresh pink to pale white, Gojo could barely pick out his own scent on Nanami unless they were mid-fuck. At that point, a simple shower could erase any sign of him from Nanami’s skin.
And so there was only one option.
If fate wasn’t going to intervene, Gojo would simply make his own fate.
It wasn’t an auspicious date nor was it a particularly stressful rut. The first year of Nanami’s ruts was erratic to begin with and hardly kept to a schedule. Perhaps the only difference between this rut and the other previous ruts was Nanami’s decreased lucidity.
For all he knew though, that could have just been his body acclimating. Why would he imagine it was anything else?
With little thought beyond ensuring their connection, Gojo proceeded with what had worked before.
No warning was given as he sank his teeth into the scarred over Bonding bite. Blood slipped out between his teeth and the body beneath him convulsed.
It was the most incredible feeling Gojo had ever experienced.
His cock felt like it was coming endlessly inside of Nanami, mind growing feverishly blank as his hips rutted and his teeth clung on harder to Nanami’s neck. His knot throbbed almost painfully in what felt like an attempt to expand even more.
“Gojo!” Nanami rasped, composure lost to the pain and pleasure overlapping in waves. “What are you—!”
Reluctantly, Gojo withdrew his teeth, canines aching to return. The scar was torn open once more, a ragged mess of blood and skin that smelled terribly divine. Their scents were quickly mixing once more, embedding deep in the tissue of Nanami’s body.
“It’s okay,” he breathed, lapping at the wound with his tongue. “We’re already Bonded. It’s not like anything else can happen even if I bite you again.”
Nanami grumbled but there were telltale signs that his body was pleased. His shoulders had lost their tension. His hole was clenching in pleasure and Gojo would’ve bet money that his cock had popped a knot where it was grinding against the bed.
The way Gojo saw it, there was nothing wrong with this arrangement. He was happy. Nanami was fulfilled. The world already associated their scents together, even if confusion remained over how two Alphas could be bound.
So it continued on and on for years.
For a decade.
Gojo smiled as he cleaned and bandaged the Bond mark, freshly renewed. Gojo kissed over the gauze as he pulled Nanami against him.
“You went too deep,” Nanami murmured, allowing Gojo to press kisses down his shoulders, along the curve of his ear, over the bruises on his throat.
“The Bond was calling to me.” He pouted. “You can feel it too, can’t you, Nanami? It’s so happy when I’m deep inside you.” Gojo closed soft lips over the bandaged wound, a mockery of a bite.
For a moment, Nanami was only silent. And then his scent sweetened just a touch. Enough to curb any fears of disdain.
A signal of reciprocity.
Nanami cleared his throat, relaxing back against Gojo’s warm body. “Perhaps.” His scent sweetened even more as they pressed closer together.
Gojo didn’t bother to hide his pleased smile.
.END.