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Osamu Dazai used to be an expert of emotional self-regulation. Nothing seemed to be able to throw him off the track because he locked his own feelings deep inside. He forknew everything, for him there were no surprises. So when the unpredictable mood swings came over him, Dazai found it difficult to put up a brave front.
Osamu was afraid of himself: he had lost count of how many times in the past week he had been on the verge of tears because of Kunikida's attacks that he usually laughed off. Now the man was silently burying himself in his laptop and sitting with a scowl over his reports, satisfying the pedantic colleague more than he wanted to.
The most shameful thing Dazai felt at such moments was his desire to have someone by his side to satisfy his unusual thirst for tenderness and warmth. For some reason, that someone was Atsushi. Osamu had been particularly clingy to his student before, as it was a great pleasure to put him on an emotional swing that ranged from embarrassment and funny annoyance to a fervent expression of gratitude for some small thing that the man usually did without breaking a sweat. Now Dazai was looking for an extra excuse to lean over Nakajima, who was sitting at the table, and peek at the laptop screen, his head resting on his frail shoulder.
The boy seemed troubled that his dearest mentor was neglecting the distance that had previously been so important to him, but for a moment the confusion on his face was replaced by sympathy and understanding that Osamu could find no explanation for. As well as the fact that at such moments Atsushi took something sweet out of the table to treat him.
"Dazai-san," Nakajima said cautiously to the man sitting at the computer. "I need some old documents, but I can't reach them. Can you help me?"
"Maybe for an extra chocolate bar," Dazai smirked and walked over to the bookcase the boy was now hanging around. "What exactly do you need?"
"You are just like Rampo-san..." Atsushi sighed and reached for the shelf to point to the blue folder. If his hand had been half a palm longer, he would have reached for it, but jumping in front of the bookcase was a risk of all the papers falling. "This blue folder, please".
Osamu did not understand why he did not ask Nakajima to step back and give him room, but came close behind him, almost burying his nose into the furry top of the boy's head; why, after pulling the necessary papers from the densely packed shelf, he leaned against his shoulder, tucking the file into the boy's hands.
"Mmm... I didn't know you wore perfume," he murmured, smelling the addicting herbal scent somewhere around his neck, which he wanted to bury his nose in for some reason. He wanted to do it so badly his knees were weak.
"B-but I don't wear cologne," Atsushi protested, but then, having taken a deep breath through his nose, he shuddered at the frightening realization. "Wait, do you smell me?"
The man's primal instinct was to press his face against the lymph nodes on the boy's neck, as if trying to taste the scent of delicate wildflowers, tinged with something bitter. As he rubbed his nose and blew his breath on some particularly fragrant and oily place, the scent hit Dazai with a wave of pleasant weakness and a cramp in his thighs. Nakajima, who had dropped his folder, choked on the air along with Osamu as he felt long, clinging fingers digging into his shoulders. He commanded immediately:
"E-everyone except Dazai-san, get out! Now!"
People in the office looked at him, trembling, slightly hunched over under the weight of the man hanging on him, in confusion.
"Kid, what's the lovey-dovey you're..." Doppo interrupted halfway through his speech as the boy said "heat" with just his lips. "Everybody out".
Dazai felt more and more drawn in: his lower abdomen was cramping, his legs were shaky, his eyes were dark, and he was breathing so hard... He suddenly got uncomfortably wet between his buttocks, and Osamu froze in horror. He certainly did not feel the urge to defecate, and he had never suffered from incontinence, so…
"Bleeding?.." the thought flashed through his mind, as the man recoiled fearfully from Atsushi, his shaking legs together as if that would help calm the new wave of dizziness and lightheadedness or stop the rectal bleeding he'd just suspected he had.
Nakajima looked just as panicked, immediately turning around and staring at Dazai with saucer eyes.
"D-dazai-san, why aren't you on suppressants?!" he blurted out, grabbing Osamu by the shoulders as the man swayed again. "That's so irresponsible of you!"
"What? What are you talking about?" the man frowned, his lips pressed together and his eyes wet. Nakajima’s tone softened immediately:
"I'm sorry. Dazai-san, you should spend your heat either on suppressants or with your alpha, but you should never come to work in such a state," he explained patiently.
"Bullshit! I took the tests, I'm a beta!" Dazai objected, and immediately gasped at the touch of Atsushi's wrist on his bandaged neck, which sent a swarm of goosebumps down his spine and reduced his panic. "Ahhhh..." he moaned softly.
"If you were a beta, you wouldn't be enjoying yourself right now," the boy shut back firmly but embarrassedly.
It was only now that Osamu felt the arousal dulled by terror that built up as a weight in his groin. The realization hit him before he could mentally process the information: he's an omega. Atsushi is an alpha. That's why his presence was so comforting.
It was time to move from the stages of denial and bargaining to acceptance and problem solving.
"A-and what am I supposed to do about it?" The man licked his lips nervously. Classified as a beta so far, he didn't bother memorizing the theory, considering it something unnecessary.
"I mark you, we go home, and then we'll decide," Nakajima patted his mentor on the shoulder encouragingly, and with his other hand reached for his neck, picking up the edge of the bandage with his claw. "I'll cut the bandages, trust me".
Dazai wanted to object, but the boy seemed sure of what he was doing, and Osamu obediently relaxed in his arms, leaning his head sideways. The bandages slipped from his scarred skin, and the man sobbed at the warm exhale under his ear, his thighs clenched together.
"I'll bite you," Atsushi whispered into his neck, and oh, God, how badly Dazai wanted to feel his hot, wet mouth on his skin. "The mark would come off in about a month".
The sharp fangs dug into the flesh of his neck, and Osamu shook from the hard bite as if in an orgasm, moaning high and loud. There was a hot throbbing between his legs, and if Nakajima had bitten him again, the man might actually have come in his pants. At the same time, the alpha's saliva mingled with the blood, soothing him, erasing not the lust, but the panic.
"It's to make sure no other alpha follows us," the boy explained, licking the mark with small strokes of his tongue. "I've marked my territory, and you're safe now".
"Marked his territory," and the slick started flowing down Dazai's thighs with new force, his mind was already painting pictures of Atsushi taking him in the office. Instead, Nakajima grabbed his mentor by the arm and led him to the door, where his colleagues had been crowding the entire time. Some of them cringed at the frightening scent mingling with the scent of the omega. They didn't stop the couple or ask any questions – it was perfectly clear.
Nakajima literally carried the weakened Osamu on his shoulder, holding him by the waist - the dormitory wasn't far away. The man was only happy to be dragged along, rubbing his face against the boy's neck.
"We get home... and then what?" He muttered, wobbling as Atsushi took him aside to avoid hitting a stranger.
"I'll build you a nest out of my clothes and mark you with my scent until morning," Nakajima tightened his grip around the man's waist, his palm burning through the layers of fabric. "And in the morning, we'll go to the doctor, because at this hour, we can only reach the ambulance".
"What's that for? I wouldn't say I feel bad..."
"You should have presented as an omega by the age of fourteen, Dazai-san. But you're already in your twenties. So now I'm going to relieve your heat, and then I'm going to take you to a reproductologist so we can find out what's wrong".
"What if I don't hold back and harass you, hmm, alpha?" Dazai teased, though there was some truth in what he said; he wasn't sure he wouldn't pull down the sleeping boy's pants and sit on his cock.
"I'll just hold back, like I always do," Atsushi shrugged, paying no attention to teasing, just a blushed a little.
"Just hold back?" "Like I always do?"
"Are you... experienced?" Osamu asked suspiciously, almost tripping over the steps of the dorm - he hadn't noticed that they had already come.
"A lot. At the orphanage, the alphas did whatever they wanted to the omegas. One punishment was enough to discourage me from harassing anyone. So I started marking the omegas so they wouldn't be... hurt by other alphas," Nakajima said with a frown, as if forcing the words out of his mouth.
He smelled bitter and sadder. The man finally recognized the note – it was wormwood.
"I see... Um, what do I smell like?" he asked, hanging onto the boy with his whole body as he latter fiddled with the lock of his apartment.
"Um... When you're calm, you smell like a peach. The more aroused you are, the sweeter smell is. When you're frightened, you smell like bitter almonds. And now you've got my scent mixed in with yours".
Atsushi swung the door open and led Dazai inside the clean, modest apartment and immediately locked themself in. Looking at him, so serious and responsible, Osamu grew more and more eager for his alpha to properly take care of him. The command to undress, therefore, sounded very ambiguous.
"Uh-oh, is Atsushi-kun going to satisfy his omega?" The man cooeded seductively, dropping his trench coat next to the spread out futon.
"Don't hope so," Nakajima cut off, rummaging through the closet and pulling out a thin, soft yukata. "Now you need clothes that are light and comfortable. Change in the bathroom, and I'll make a nest for you".
Familiar with the typical layout, Dazai retired to the bathroom. The boy, meanwhile, spread a spare futon next to his, also soaked in his scent, and placed a rolled-up blanket on the edge. After changing into his home clothes, Atsushi threw his kotatsu pillows and work shirt into the nest.
Osamu was staying in the bathroom too long. Nakajima knocked quietly on the bathroom door and, no answer being received, opened it slightly.
"D-dazai-san!" he squeaked when he saw the picture: the man was sitting on the glazed floor in open yukata only, rubbing his groin on the pile of clothes pulled out of the tank, and pressing one of the dirty shirts against his face.
Dazai looked up at the boy with pleading eyes, and the latter reached up to rub his wrist against the neck gland. Osamu exhaled contentedly and stopped thrusting his hips. Atsushi gently took his shirt from the man's hands and part of his underwear between his legs, which he didn't think smelled much like sweat yet.
"Please, tie the yukata and let's go to the nest," he asked softly and patiently, burying his fingers in the disheveled curls.
Having calmed down, Dazai obediently covered himself with yukata and, tying his belt, rose from the floor, leaving a transparent sticky trail beneath him. As expected, his first heat was quite intense, and Nakajima could barely restrain himself from touching the wet thigh with his fingers. Only now did he notice that Osamu had even removed the bandages.
"How do you even resist that?" the man whimpered, greedily taking the things from the alpha's hands.
"I'm used to helping omegas like you," Atsushi replied, smiling softly. "Besides, if your first heat came this late, then something is wrong, and the intercourse might harm you. And I don't want to hurt someone important to me," he took Dazai by the sleeve of his yukata and led him to the futon. There he let Osamu finish his nest and make himself comfortable among the fragrant fabrics, and laid down beside him. "No matter how much I want to, I won't allow myself to snap".
The man was melting at these words. Nakajima was so responsible, caring, and patient, so good at holding back his own erection against Dazai's thigh, that the latter wanted to give himself to the boy more and more with each passing second. It was as if the mentor and the student had switched roles.
"What if... No consequences?.." Osamu asked timidly, rubbing his cock against the other man's, not believing himself that he was asking the boy to do that.
"No, Dazai-san," Atsushi replied firmly, and helped the man turn onto his other side so that he could spoon him. He pulled the yukata down from Dazai's shoulder and grazed his lips against the heated skin, kissing and nibbling, occasionally going up to his neck to brush his tongue over the freshly marked gland. "I don't want your first time to happen like this, even if you don't get pregnant. It would be wrong to spend your first heat not with your beloved alpha".
Osamu didn't know whether he was sobbing from rejection or from the care Nakajima provided him, not even thinking at that moment that he, too, would waste his first time by giving in to instinct. Come to think of it, the boy had always been like that - prioritizing his, his mentor's, well-being. And now, as his hormones turned Dazai's gut inside out, revealing his secret needs, he was aware of the affection he felt for Atsushi.
"You... you're just... such a wonderful person," he whimpered, turning his head and catching Nakajima's gaze out of the corner of his eye.
The boy watched fondly and lustfully, kissing his neck, finding his arm with his hand, gently intertwining his fingers and rubbing the glands on their wrists. The rolling waves of arousal were exhausting to the point of dizziness and delirium, and Dazai no longer found the strength to press his buttocks against the tensed fabric of other's home shorts, not even to fantasize about how big Atsushi's cock was. He felt like a favorite rag doll in the caring hands of his alpha.
"I... I like you, you know?" - Osamu mumbled unintelligibly on the verge of unconsciousness.
"I like you too, Dazai-san," Nakajima replied, touching the hot cheek with his lips. "But let's discuss this another time, okay? When we're both sane and your heat is over".
The boy was right: having realized his feelings only now, Dazai was impatient to exaggerate them to the point where Atsushi was sure to fill his wet hole with his cock. With the remaining crumbs of his mind, Osamu felt that there was really no hurry – despite the exhausting lust and the contractions of aching muscles, his inner omega wanted sincere affection and care.
"Thank you..." he thanked weakly, floating in milky rivers of gentle kisses and strokes, exhausted by the heat of the alpha lying beside him. Even the slick running down his thighs didn't bother him anymore – the man dozed off in the warm embrace, surrounded by the smell of the sun-heated field, bitter with wormwood.
After waiting for Dazai to fall asleep soundly enough, Nakajima climbed out of the nest and tucked the man in, collecting the peach nectar from the man's neck with his lips one last time.
"Sleep well, Osamu-san".