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It's a cold winter day and the girls have been whining non-stop about being bored during the holidays. Suguru wants to sympathise but the girls are currently taking their boredom out on his hair and Nanako is experimenting on his hair by giving him a very… weird hairstyle that he’s not sure he can pull off. Unfortunately, after Manami, it’s Suguru who has the longest hair out of them, and Manami would never let anyone mess with her hair.
He glances at himself in the mirror and notices how his hair is longer now, going well past his waist.
' Hair holds memories,' Suguru recalls the saying. It would make perfect sense just to chop them off then, but he chooses not to. Is it because he wishes to remind himself of his mission every time he looks at himself in the mirror? Or is it because he doesn't want to let go of the last few memories of the good old times with Sato–
"Getou-sama, we should all wear high ponytails! Like this!" Nanako says, gathering her hair in her fists and pulling them up to mimic a ponytail.
"Hmm, I don't see why not?" It's not often that Suguru gets to stay home and spend the whole day with the girls. Besides, playing dress up and giving his girls makeovers are some things Suguru allows himself to indulge in when he's not scamming monkeys and milking them for their money and the curses they bring along.
He asks the girls how things were at school as he does their hair. Despite hating monkeys, he still sends the girls to normal schools so that they can have a normal childhood. He's not a fan of them being around non-sorcerers given their own experience with them, but he allows the girls to make their judgement and live their lives the way they wish to.
"Getou-sama, do you know, before our holidays began, one of our classmates got his heat in the middle of a class! Nearly all the alphas in the class were looking at him like he was a piece of meat," Nanako says, huffing. She's an alpha, having presented at ten years old. Her sister, Mimiko, is a beta, which Suguru is thankful for. Being an omega himself, he wouldn't wish it upon her.
"Well, I'm hoping you behaved, Nanako."
"Of course! Mimiko, tell Getou-sama that I was a decent alpha!"
"She was," Mimiko says, giggling. "Not sure if she would be decent if her crush gets their heat–"
"Mimiko, you–!"
The bell rings and Mimiko escapes from her sister to open the door. She comes back with Manami in tow. Suguru greets his assistant-slash-close friend as she makes herself comfortable in his home. She has her beloved tablet in her hands—the one she uses to manage the cult business. He's honestly very grateful to her and wouldn't know what to do if he didn't have her in his team.
Especially given the situation he's in at the moment.
Suguru quickly distracts the girls and sends them away to do their homework while he has a chat with Manami. Once they're out of sight, Suguru gets to business.
"So, I'm guessing that everything is ready?"
"Yes, the website just went live. Let me show you the final result. I put a lot of work into it," Manami says and turns the screen towards him so that he can have a look. In front of him is an ad with a picture of him dressed in a rather suggestive-looking winter-themed kimono that Manami emotionally blackmailed him into wearing. He wasn't exactly sure if selling himself was the best way to go about things, but the situation is dire and the temple needs funds. Desperately.
Desperate situations require desperate solutions. And Manami's idea was that he whore himself out for the thirsty monkeys out there. The only thing about this whole situation that surprises Suguru is that it took Manami this long to suggest going down this route.
The ad reads, “This Christmas, why settle for cookies and milk when you can indulge in Getou-sama’s Special Elixir? Limited Offer on Exclusive Slick Jars for Our Most Treasured Donors! Limited stock, unlimited fun!'”And then the ad explains how all the slick on sale were produced during the latest heat he went through. Suguru stops reading for the sake of his sanity.
"Leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, aren't we?" Suguru asks, chuckling awkwardly.
"Our marketing strategy should leave them desperate and not confused. We gotta be direct. Honestly, the website has received quite a lot of traffic since I sent out the email to all our members. I’m only worried about whether someone will figure out that the slick wasn't exactly produced during a heat. Or that you haven't had a heat for almost six years."
Getting reminded of his failings as an omega leaves him feeling queasy yet again but he swallows it down and puts up a strong front, knowing that Manami means well.
"You're giving those monkeys too much credit. Hmph, those knot-headed alpha monkeys are too stupid to connect the dots. It would take a very strong sorcerer with an immensely strong sense of smell to figure that out."
"You mean, a very strong sorcerer like the Six Eyes?"
Suguru gives Manami a sharp look that shuts her up right away. She knows that she just tried to cross the carefully maintained line of defence that Suguru has put up around him.
Manami picks up on the tension and quickly changes the topic, telling him about a new potential donor. But the previous conversation leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and a void in his heavily guarded heart.
Later, after kissing the girls goodnight, Suguru locks himself in his bathroom and takes a look at the fading mark on his mating gland—the thing that serves as a daily reminder of the many regrets in Suguru's life. The mark that he once wore as a badge of honour is now a smear that reminds him that he failed as an omega, as a lover, as a mate. It's now an indicator of his failure to keep his bond alive.
It also reminds him that he's pathetic. The reason he still holds out hope is because of the package he finds at his door every three months. The box containing clothes with the familiar scent of cedar wood with undertones of vetiver is the only reason why he hasn't gone into full-blown omegan hysteria yet.
Yeah, he wouldn't wish the omega life upon anyone, not even his worst enemy.
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It’s around two in the morning when Suguru suddenly sits up, feeling a strong cursed energy manifest itself in his bedroom. He rubs his eyes and tries to see clearly, although he’s clearly aware of what—or rather, who it is.
There is only one man in this world with the audacity to turn up uninvited in Suguru’s quarters this late at night.
Gojo Satoru.
Bright cerulean blue eyes stare back at him and Suguru will never admit it out loud but for the first time in his life, since he has known Satoru, he feels fear. The menacing look in Satoru’s eyes has Suguru frozen where he’s sitting on the bed.
The moonlight slips in through the curtains and illuminates Satoru’s face, which is set in a menacing glare and lips pressed in a flat line. He’s angry at Suguru, who has never been on the receiving end of Satoru’s ire except for that one time when Suguru left him on that street in Shinjuku on that fateful day. But Suguru likes to think that the anger was directed more towards Suguru’s choices than Suguru himself. That is what Suguru tells himself each time he receives a new package with Satoru’s scented clothes.
For a while, none of them says anything and Satoru seems satisfied in glaring holes through him. But Suguru gets fed up quickly and finally, after three minutes of pin-drop silence, Suguru gives up.
“If you wanted to stare at my face at two in the morning, you could’ve gone to the higher-ups’ office to look at the evidence board. I’m sure I'll look prettier there. You guys always capture little old me from the best angles,” he says, rolling his eyes.
This bothers Satoru enough to pull him out of his wrath-induced silence.
“You have quite the audacity, Suguru,” Satoru says and the tone in which he calls Suguru’s name out makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Sato–”
“For years, I have been sending my stuff so that you don’t shrivel up and die, and then I wake up to a message about you selling your slick to your clients. I let you run your silly cult business and you take advantage of my kindness to whore yourself out?”
There are so many things in what Satoru just said that Suguru wants to kick him in the balls for, but it’s all moot when Satoru slowly approaches him like a predator approaches its prey. Satoru straddles him in his bed and pushes him down, a palm laid flat against Suguru’s chest.
This is the first time they are seeing each other after Suguru walked away from his mate six years ago.
The touch makes Suguru’s scent grow sweeter almost quickly, reacting to his mate’s pheromones instinctively, attempting to soothe his mate’s anger. He hates how reactive his body is to Satoru despite years of separation.
“Satoru–”
“I wait every three months for you to call me, or just send me a message saying that you need me, even if just for a heat, but you never did. Now I understand why. If you’re so eager to sell your slick, you probably sold your body too, didn’t you?”
Thwack.
Satoru doesn’t even flinch even after getting slapped on his face by Suguru, who definitely didn’t hold himself back. Instead, Satoru leans closer, until their lips are almost touching and Suguru can smell the faint scent of iron. Satoru’s lip is bleeding because of the slap.
That’s when he realises that Satoru had his infinity turned off. He let Suguru slap him.
“Why do you let me hurt you?” Suguru whispers, cradling Satoru’s cheek and feeling the heat of the slap on his cheek.
“Because it hurts you just as much,” Satoru says, tilting his head to lean into Suguru’s touch.
“You’re a masochist. Satoru, why are you here? How I run my business has nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah? Your assistant never told you about the steady funding you get every six months? I can say that I own this stupid fucking cult of yours more than you do, actually. Just like I own you,” Satoru says, a mean smile playing on his lips as he eyes the fading mark on Suguru’s neck.
“You don’t own —”
“If I don’t own you, why haven’t you unleashed your curses on me and pushed me off you?” Satoru asks as he grabs Suguru’s wrist and quickly flips him over. He treats Suguru like a toy as he arranges his limbs until Satoru’s front is pressed against his back, his face buried in Suguru’s neck while his cock presses against Suguru’s ass. “If I don’t own you, you wouldn’t let me make you present yourself to me, even though I’m your only alpha.”
Satoru grabs his jaw and turns his head until their lips are pressed together in a biting kiss. It brings tears to Suguru’s eyes and he kisses back equally ferociously, making sure to draw more blood from Satoru’s lips. When he lets go, he nuzzles along his jaw and Suguru gasps when he feels Satoru dig his teeth into his mark, even though it serves no purpose until Suguru is knotted. Only then will the bite take. Satoru is just fucking with him right now.
So, he decides to fuck with Satoru too.
“How are you my only alpha when you clearly claimed that I have been whoring myself out to other men?”
Satoru sees red and he begins to tear at his clothes and press Suguru’s face onto the bed, raising his hips until he’s ass up, face down. It’s an extremely vulnerable position to be in and were it anyone else who put Suguru in it, they wouldn’t survive to see another minute. “Then I simply have to mark you up enough to make every alpha around you seethe when they see you,” he says after breaking away from the kiss. “I’ll breed you with pups and make sure you’re round and heavy with them so that you can stop your fucking madness and be my omega, once and for all.”
That seems to snap Suguru out of it. He pushes Satoru off him and covers himself with his quilt, fighting back the tears that gather in his eyes at the harsh reminder of his failures as an omega. Six years ago, if Satoru had talked about having pups, Suguru would’ve blushed and agreed, even if they were barely seventeen.
Now, at twenty-two, Suguru knows that it is possible for him to never be a parent. The one time he bit the bullet and visited a gynae to figure out why he hasn’t been getting his heats, he was told that not only is he immensely scent-deprived (despite the quarterly parcels Satoru sends him) but his fertility is going to get affected too, the longer he goes without his mate.
That should’ve been his wake-up call. That should’ve pushed Suguru to call Satoru and spend a few heats with him, but then Suguru made a choice when he walked away from Satoru for what is essentially a suicide mission. He knows what he’s doing is unrealistic and frankly impossible. But, he had to try, right?
If he went to Satoru, he’d forget and forgo everything. It had been difficult to walk away from him once. Suguru doesn’t know if he can do it again.
“Suguru, what happened?” Satoru asks, tugging at the covers. But, Suguru curls up further and hides his face under the covers so that Satoru can’t see his tears.
He’s a weak and broken omega.
“Leave me alone, Satoru.”
“Yeah, no. I’m not doing that. I let you run wild all these years, but I’m done now. I’ve run out of patience. Come back and I’ll forgive you for leaving me that day.”
“I’m not sorry that I walked away. I’ll do it all again if I have to,” Suguru says.
“Will it kill you to not be stubborn?” Satoru asks, turning him over and grabbing his wrists, pinning them down on either side of his head.
“I’m stubborn? And not you? Who refuses to leave even when he knows that I’m not his anymore.”
He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he didn’t expect Satoru to chuckle. But the laugh didn’t reach his eyes.
“You know, Suguru, that’s where you’re mistaken. You’ve always been mine. You were mine when I laid my eyes upon you for the first time, back when we were fifteen. You were mine when I kissed you. You were mine when I marked you that night before everything went wrong. You were mine when I let you walk away from me. You were mine when I did nothing to stop you and did everything to stop the higher-ups from laying their filthy fingers on you. You’re mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to mate, mine to breed and mine to kill, if it ever comes to that.”
Suguru’s breath is caught in his throat as Satoru throws the covers away. Satoru gets rid of his own clothes while Suguru watches, frozen. Why does Satoru affect him so much, even after all these years? Suguru’s heart and body continue to crave him. They have never been on the same page as his logical brain. They don’t waste a second to betray him and give him away, for the room starts getting filled with the pheromones of an aroused and pleased omega.
Satoru, the fucking bastard, chuckles as he lays his palm flat against Suguru’s pussy. The omega attempts to shake the hand off but it only serves to grind his pussy against Satoru’s palm, making the alpha chuckle even more and press his palm further against Suguru’s pussy. And then, he takes his hand away and sniffs it.
“Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I missed it,” Satoru says as he wastes no time in getting rid of Suguru’s panties and lines his cock against Suguru’s pussy.
“Satoru, no,” Suguru says, weakly. He doesn’t even know why he’s putting up a protest at this point after having let Satoru have his way all this while. Satoru seems to think the same because he pays no heed to Suguru’s weak protests as he rubs his cock against Suguru’s slick folds, all the while mouthing at the mark he left behind on Suguru’s neck six years ago.
“I missed you so much,” Satoru says as he pushes his cock in and goes silent for a while upon realising something.
It’s only after a minute that Satoru speaks up, “God, you’re so tight. Suguru, you never had another alpha, did you?” Satoru asks, slowly pushing in. Suguru is not completely slicked up yet because of his hormonal imbalance, but he’s wet nevertheless. Satoru’s cock slides in with just the right amount of friction and Suguru throws his head back, grabbing Satoru’s shoulders and digging his nails into his skin. “Your scent—it’s faint, but it’s there, I can still smell it,” Satoru says, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck. “Why is your scent so weak, baby? Are my clothes not enough to keep your pheromones stable?”
Suguru buries his face in Satoru’s neck, finally letting his tears flow. Having his long-lost mate in such proximity to him, speaking so sweetly to him and making love to him…it’s all that Suguru has dreamt of, all these years.
“Your mark, it’s been fading.”
“Right.”
“I never marked you back, so our separation doesn’t impact you that much—”
“You don’t know that,” Satoru says, cutting him off. Suguru leans back to look at Satoru through his tears. Satoru gently wipes his tears away and cradles his head in his hand. “The last few years have been hell, Suguru.”
“I haven’t gotten a heat in almost six years, Satoru. I’m not the same Suguru anymore,” Suguru says, feeling resigned.
“And yet, all these years, you never took up the opportunity of letting me come to you. Your stupid fucking ego, Suguru, will be your biggest downfall. Why can’t you just let me fucking love you? Does it have to be so difficult?” Satoru demands as he slowly begins to thrust into Suguru, his movements a little rough. The sting feels good because it makes Suguru feel something.
“You always have the choice of moving on and find someone who’s not difficult,” Suguru says, looking right into his eyes.
“Wouldn’t that be amazing? Having someone who doesn’t push me away when things get tough. No, for better and for worse, my heart has chosen you,” he says, leaving behind a trail of kisses on Suguru’s face. He brushes his lips against Suguru’s tear-streaked cheek and their fingers intertwine as if they were always meant to fit together, and Satoru guides them into a tender rhythm, making soft, unhurried love to Suguru, pouring all his affection and devotion into every touch
It’s like a dam breaks inside Suguru at being treated like this. It would be much easier to deal with Satoru if he were mean and cruel to Suguru, taking anything and everything Suguru has to offer and then leaving him feeling hollow. But, Satoru always exceeds expectations, doesn't he? He holds Suguru as if he were something fragile, as if he were something precious, his hands steady and sure yet infinitely gentle, as though he fears breaking him. Satoru’s love is a force of nature—unrelenting, consuming, and yet, at its core, so achingly soft.
“Why did you never come? You’ve always known my location. I…”
“Say it, Suguru,” Satoru urges him as he fucks him and hits the spot that has his toe curling.
Suguru swallows hard, his chest tightening as the words he’s buried for so long finally surface. “I wanted you to be there. Not your clothes,” he admits, his voice trembling with the weight of the confession. It’s like a burden has been lifted off his chest, a burden that has been weighing down on him ever since he received the first parcel of Satoru’s scented clothes.
Satoru’s expression softens, and he cups Suguru’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears with infinite care. “I’m here now,” he says simply, his voice a quiet promise. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Their foreheads touch, breaths mingling as they bask in the fragile, tentative peace between them. For the first time in years, Suguru feels like he can breathe.
Together, they ride out their pleasure, which comes in waves. Suguru rolls Satoru over and rides him, hoping Satoru knows that Suguru reciprocates his desires and feelings, even after all these years of being apart. Now that Satoru is here, and that he’s willing to stay, maybe, just maybe Suguru doesn’t have to torture himself. Maybe, sometimes, it’s just that easy…
Satoru sits up, leaning against the backrest, as Suguru collapses in Satoru’s arms after having ridden the alpha, his thighs burning and his breaths coming out all stuttered. Satoru runs his fingers along Suguru’s spine and whispers sweet nothings in his ear while he tries to gather his bearings.
“Suguru, my rut is in a week. I’ll be knotting you and making you mine again. And no, I’m not taking no for an answer,” Satoru says after a while. Suguru doesn’t put up a protest and nods simply. He’ll pick his battles.
“And you’ll mark me back. If you decide to suffer alone again, Suguru, I swear you’ll make me very angry.”
“Is that supposed to discourage me?” Suguru asks, sitting up and tilting his head.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I don’t enjoy pissing you off? I think somewhere down the line, I knew that ad would make you angry if you ever saw it, so I gave it a green signal,” Suguru confesses and watches Satoru’s face go through a range of emotions.
“Wait, you also said you never got a heat in these past few years. Does that mean you were just trying to scam people?”
Suguru shrugs in response.
Satoru throws his head back as he laughs for a whole minute before pulling Suguru close and kissing him on the forehead. “You’re a smart cookie, my little runaway trickster omega wife. But I’ll support this venture of yours, as long as you know that this,” Satoru points to Suguru’s heart and then at Suguru’s dripping wet pussy, “And this belong only to Gojo Satoru. Speaking of that, where is the collar I bought for you back then?”
“I think I threw it away,” Suguru says, nonchalantly.
“Threw it away?! Suguru! Fuck.”
Satoru looks for his pants and when he finds them, he takes out what looks like a long bandage and wasting no time, he ties it around Suguru’s neck and makes a bow at the end.
“Now, you’re not only my omega, but you’re also my Christmas gift and…” Satoru lays him down on the bed, “And unwrap you, okay?”
Suguru laughs and nods his head and wraps his arms around Satoru. He looks at the clock on the stand next to his bed and hums.
“It’s past midnight anyway. So, Merry Christmas, Sa-to-ru~”
And then Satoru proceeds to unwrap his gift very thoroughly.
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