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When Tomioka Giyuu first awakens, he can tell something is wrong.
His most recent mission was successful, aside from the demon landing a relatively shallow cut along the nape of his neck; it didn't even need stitches, but it left Giyuu with a sense of dread regardless. He wanted to believe it was just his hindbrain fretting over the proximity to his unmarred mating gland.
Giyuu couldn't reason that it was mere coincidence now, as he wakes up the following day drenched in sweat and panting. His chest tightens anxiously as the pieces begin to fall into place in his mind.
Heat.
He's never— Giyuu does not go into heat.
He's on suppressants, scent blockers, everything in Kocho's arsenal to subdue his inner omega and its scent so that he can remain a Hashira effectively.
He needs— help, Giyuu needs medical assistance, and fast.
"Kanzaburo… send for— help, please, Sh-shin…" Giyuu gasps out, curling in on himself and further muffling his words, "hur…ry, get Sh…in…"
Shinobu.
Giyuu hears the frantic flutter of Kanzaburo's wings as he rushes away to follow his partner's command before losing consciousness.
𓂃𓅛𓂃
"Urgent! Urgent! Help!"
Sanemi is mid-swing when the squawk of a Kasugai crow that does not belong to him fills the open air of his training area. He narrowly misses the frazzled bundle of feathers as it careens directly for him, catching it and tucking it to his chest as he avoids slicing the creature with his Nichirin blade.
"Help! Urgent!"
Sanemi looks down at the bird in his arm, and realizes much to his immediate annoyance that it is none other than Tomioka Giyuu's crow, Kanzaburo.
"What has that idiot got himself into this time?" Sanemi bites, glaring at the senile lump of onyx feathers in his grasp.
Kanzaburo tilts his head up, an expression of dismay on his little bird face. "Giyuu needs help, sick! Very sick!"
Confusion fills Sanemi's face at this. If Tomioka is sick, then why send for him of all people? "What does that have to do with me? Why not—"
"Please! Please save Giyuu!" Kanzaburo cries out, interrupting Sanemi. "Urgent!"
The crow struggles within Sanemi's hold, letting out some of the most distressed caws Sanemi has ever heard.
Shit.
"Fuck, fine! Just—" Sanemi sheathes his katana and shifts Kanzaburo to his dominant arm, "just stop fucking squirming and shut up, I'll go check on Tomioka."
Kanzaburo settles into Sanemi's arm, though the nervous energy buzzing within the elderly crow didn't truly dispel.
Sanemi can already feel a headache forming, and he hasn't even had the displeasure of interacting with Tomioka yet.
𓂃𓅨𓂃
"You look like shit."
Giyuu's first thought is confusion as to why Shinazugawa Sanemi is inside his room.
He gets his answer when he pointedly ignores Shinazugawa's rude remark to peer up at the rustling of plumage tucked into his elbow.
"Ah," Giyuu monotones, reaching forward to collect his avian friend. He cannot find it in himself to even be annoyed when Kanzaburo mistakenly delivers his messages to the wrong person; Giyuu understands his mind is not sharp like the younger crows' are, and he knows that Kanzaburo is more susceptible to error when he is stressed. Giyuu wishes he would not worry for him to the point of distress, but Giyuu cannot help the fond tug of memories of his late ojiisan when the crow frets over him. He gives Kanzaburo a gentle stroke down his spine with the back of his index.
When Giyuu looks up, he is surprised to see Shinazugawa staring at him with an odd look on his face. It's not the usual contempt, but his brow is twisted similarly and what Giyuu can only assume is an angry flush muddles his cheeks. Or maybe Shinazugawa was also running a fever?
Or worse—
Giyuu realizes, although it can be presumed, that he does not know what Shinazugawa's secondary gender is.
Only alphas and betas were permitted to serve in the corps, with the expectation that alphas were to use suppressants and blockers, balms to keep their minds sharp and fighting in this thousand year old war—but that did not mean that for some of them it was not painfully obvious what they were underneath the patches and pills.
Loud, brash, domineering Shinazugawa Sanemi was clearly an alpha, Giyuu had no doubt of that fact.
But that only made him being here, in Giyuu's home, while he is on the cusp of a spontaneous heat that much worse. He needed to get Shinazugawa to leave, and fast.
"I apologize that Kanzaburo bothered you, Shinazugawa-san," Giyuu begins, tentatively, already attempting to temper Shinazugawa's inevitable anger, "but I do not need you here."
"You—"
Shinazugawa goes rigid, and Giyuu can see the muscles of his jaw tense as he likely grits his teeth. His expression darkens from his prior frustrated look, eyes going wild as a prominent vein on his temple protrudes.
He never was very good at not making Shinazugawa angry.
Shinazugawa's hands clench into fists, temper flaring and with it his volume, "What the fuck is your problem? I come all the way out here because your poor excuse for a crow nearly kills itself flying directly for my katana to tell me you're sick and need urgent help, and you tell me to kick rocks?"
Giyuu winces a fraction, his nerves sensitive in the wake of his oncoming heat. "I apologize for imposing on you, but you don't—"
"Just— shut the fuck up, Tomioka." Shinazugawa seems to lose steam instantly, almost visibly deflating. "When was the last time you took any medicine? Or ate, for that matter."
He stares up at Shinazugawa for a moment before pressing his lips into a sheepish frown. "I… have not."
Shinazugawa is quiet for approximately 30 seconds, which is a record when Giyuu is around and Oyakata-sama is not present.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me, right, Tomioka? You haven't seriously not eaten or taken any medicine when you're supposedly so unwell your goddamn crow is dragging me out of everyone in the fucking corps to help you?"
When Giyuu makes no attempt to deny it, Shinazugawa storms out of his bedroom while mumbling a steady stream of expletives.
He does not hear the telltale slam of his front door that would signal that Shinazugawa left the Water Estate.
A wave of exhaustion from the excitement settles over Giyuu, and he feels his eyelids become heavy. Sleep is calling to him, but he really should make sure Shinazugawa leaves first. It would be dangerous to let the alpha remain in his house any longer, not as a heat that he has been delaying for far too long—years, really—draws near.
His secret—shared only with Oyakata-sama, Kocho, and just recently, Tanjiro—was at risk of being revealed to Shinazugawa, who Giyuu was certain would revel at the chance to use it against him. Giyuu feared Oyakata-sama could only protect Giyuu's position in the corps for so long if his identity as an omega was revealed to everyone.
And yet, as Kanzaburo preened gently in his arms, the blankets of his futon engulfing him in warmth, and a comforting scent beginning to drift through the air, Giyuu found himself unable to to keep his eyes open any longer.
𓂃𓅫𓂃
Tomioka Giyuu's daidokoro is just as devoid of life as every other space in the mansion. A fine layer of dust covers any available surface, and upon nosing around the todana Sanemi finds the dishes and utensils in the same condition. The porcelain bowls, though dusty, look otherwise untouched.
Unused.
He manages to dig out a nearly full bag of short grain rice from Tomioka's otherwise empty pantry, thankfully, and decides that a simple okayu should suffice.
Sanemi starts by tying back the sleeves of his haori with a tasuki and begins cleaning every surface and dish, not knowing when the last time they were used could have been; from the fact that Tomioka still has an irori, he isn't sure it's been used at all by the current Water Hashira. While Sanemi opted to keep the floor hearth in his kitchen, sentimental for a time long passed, most of his colleagues opted for having the modern kamado installed when taking over their respective estates.
He scrubs a nabe he fished out of the cupboard first so that he can start soaking the rice. He was mostly glad Tomioka owned multiple mizuoke to save him from having to make more than one trip for water from the well in the courtyard. Sanemi takes a seat near the hearth at the center of the room with the pot in his lap and two buckets—one empty and one still full of clean water. His large hand, calloused and scarred, disappears in the clouded water at first, agitating the water and grains in circular motions; but as he drains the water and replenishes it a few times, the liquid begins to clear up. Sanemi stops before the water runs clear when he drains it, leaving a small bit of starch still—just the way his ma taught him the first of many times he made okayu for his sick siblings. Satisfied, he fills the nabe of rice one last time with the remainder of the water in the basin to soak and returns to deep cleaning Tomioka's daidokoro.
Once the remainder of the kitchen was clean, Sanemi began preparing the porridge. Okayu was simple, mostly time consuming from needing to soak the rice beforehand for proper texture. Luckily for Sanemi, the grains had plenty of time to soak while he scrubbed down Tomioka's kitchen.
Sanemi makes quick work of starting the flame of the irori from years of practice as a child assisting his mother, and once the flame is sufficiently burning, he hangs the nabe of rice and water from the jizaikagi. It boils over quickly, and Sanemi gives it a stir before covering the pot and snuffing the flame to just glowing coals.
With nothing to distract himself—no counters or bowls to scrub clean, no water to fetch, and a pot that has to be left to simmer untouched—Sanemi is forced to be alone with his thoughts.
Unfortunately for Sanemi, his mind only supplies him flashes of Tomioka Giyuu, bundled in thick blankets, his normally stoic face softened into a small, nearly imperceptible smile and a fond look as he gently stroked the inky feathers of his Kasugai crow with a long, thin finger.
Sanemi didn't even know Tomioka could smile. He certainly didn't think he would look so pretty while doing it.
Wait, what?
Sanemi shakes his head, as if that will shake the thought from his mind. Familiar heat rises to his cheeks as it did earlier when Tomioka first smiled, but this time it burns brighter, hotter, and spreads to the tips of his ears and down his neck.
He did not think Tomioka Giyuu was pretty.
Tomioka Giyuu was annoying, haughty, with a fierce case of perpetual bedhead— he was not pretty.
And yet Sanemi still finds himself wondering if when he brings Tomioka a humble bowl of porridge, will he smile at Sanemi too?
Does he even deserve it?
"What the fuck…" Sanemi murmurs under his breath, pushing himself off the ground and snatching up one of the mizuoke. Grabbing some more water will surely take his mind off Tomioka.
At least it would, if Sanemi wasn't in Tomioka's estate, fetching water so that he can apply compresses to the feverish Hashira inside after he finishes feeding him. Like some kind of servant.
Now that Sanemi thinks about it, Tomioka doesn't have a single attendant. He knew Tomioka was something of a loner, but there was no reason to risk his health living alone in a dusty mansion and—
What the hell was he even doing?
Sanemi slams the bucket on the floor next to the irori and pulls the lid off the cooking pot. The rice has simmered down nicely and begun to thicken. He replaces the lid and snatches up the poker, breaking up the remaining charcoal and burying it in the ash to smother it out. Sanemi lets the okayu steam the rest of the way while he gathers up a bowl and a wooden renge from the cupboard.
"How the fuck does Tomioka not own a damn obon," Sanemi groans after searching every nook and cranny of the kitchen for the tray. Two trips it is.
The first trek across the mansion is relatively easy, the pail is only half full of water and Sanemi is more than strong enough to carry that and the dishware.
Tomioka is sleeping when he enters the room, and to Sanemi's surprise he does not stir when Sanemi clatters into the room. He sets the bucket on the tatami near Giyuu's resting head, and ignores the nagging voice at the back of his mind that sounded a lot like his mother's scolding. He would have sat it on a tray if Tomioka owned a single fucking one, damn it.
Tomioka Giyuu looks like a completely different person when he sleeps. Sanemi assumed his expressionless mug would not change much between wakefulness and slumber, but he was wrong. He never realized how tightly Tomioka held his face while awake, but seeing him now he looks softer, cheeks rounded—younger. Tomioka actually looks like the stupid kids they're meant to be, and not a warrior, stone-faced as he fights in a war he's too young for.
Sanemi clicks his tongue and peels his eyes away from Tomioka's sleeping face. He needs to grab the porridge.
This trip feels longer, apprehension building in his shoulder blades as he carries the nabe down the roka. His feet on the hardwood floors is the only sound in the entire estate, and they thump in time with the heartbeat in his ears.
When he returns to Tomioka's room, the man has stirred from his nap. The sleep is still heavy in his eyes, like clouds that signal impending rain. Sanemi realizes he's staring when the cloudy blues lock with his.
"Ah, you are still here, Shinazugawa-san," Tomioka supplies, voice crackling with the final traces of sleep.
Sanemi flops down on the tatami next to Tomioka, setting the hot pot onto a rag he'd laid out when he'd brought the first round of items. He doesn't miss the way Tomioka peers curiously at the nabe, and Sanemi has to suppress the humor he finds in it. "Yeah, yeah, I'd never hear the end of it if the other Hashira found out I'd left you to die."
Tomioka furrows his brow. "I'm not dying."
He levels Tomioka with an unimpressed look, lips pulled into a tight frown. Idiot.
Sanemi distracts himself from his rising annoyance by scooping a healthy serving of the porridge into a bowl and shoving it at Tomioka. He sits up slowly, displacing the bird in his lap as he takes it from Sanemi. Kanzaburo takes a few unsteady hops before flying up to the windowsill. Tomioka almost looks disappointed at the loss.
"Oh. Thank you, Shinazugawa-san," Tomioka says softly, staring down at the bowl in his hands.
"Don't mention it," Sanemi gruffs, leaning back on his hands. "No really, mention this to anyone and I'll kick your ass."
And then Tomioka laughs. It's quiet, almost silent, barely more than a gentle snuffling of breath, but it is undeniably a laugh. Sanemi's cheeks burn.
"What's so funny? Huh, Tomioka?" Sanemi barks, eyes narrowing into a glare without much heart behind it.
Tomioka averts his gaze to the side, his expression schooling into his usual dead seriousness. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."
Sanemi ruffles his pale hair in frustration, the motion a way to expel some of the energy buzzing inside him. "Just— just eat the damn food, Tomioka."
Tomioka nods quietly, scooping up a spoonful of the thick porridge.
Violet eyes follow every movement with unspoken intensity—watching as Tomioka blows on the scoop of okayu and then brings the spoon to his lips to carefully test the temperature before confidently taking a mouthful, Sanemi getting a glimpse of Tomioka's pink tongue before the rosy petals of his lips squeeze together as Tomioka begins to chew. Sanemi flicks his gaze from Tomioka's mouth to the rest of his face, subconsciously searching for something there. He expects Tomioka's expression to remain as impassive as ever, really, it's only plain porridge.
But of course, Tomioka always has to prove him wrong, and make a fool of him in the process. Tomioka's cheeks soften as the were minutes before when he was still asleep, his brow relaxes, and his blue eyes lid heavily, his long eyelashes casting shadows across his fever-flushed cheeks. Sanemi's eyes dart down as Tomioka swallows, catching a glance at the bob of his throat before settling on his mouth once again.
Sanemi feels his mouth go dry.
He can only sit there, stunned, as Tomioka smiles—wider than he had before when petting Kanzaburo—and shovels generous spoonfuls of the porridge into his mouth, his full cheeks puffing out like a tanuki's.
Sanemi snaps his head away, pointedly staring at the far wall, but the way his face burns does not lessen.
After a few minutes, the soft scraping of the wooden spoon against the porcelain stops and Sanemi chances a peek at Tomioka. The smile has disappeared from his face but his mouth is merely relaxed, no longer pulled tight into a neutral expression. His eyes are still half lidded and cheeks still soft. Sanemi has never seen the Water Hashira look this… comfortable.
Sanemi distracts himself with collecting the empty bowl from Tomioka, going rigid as their fingers touch.
Tomioka is hot.
Like concerningly so.
He sets the dirty dishes to the side and reaches for Tomioka's forehead, brushing aside his unkempt bangs to place the back of his hand against the heated skin there. Tomioka's skin is boiling, a sheen of sweat glistening on every inch of the pale and flushed skin.
Tomioka stares up at him dazedly, his blue eyes so bright against the feverish blush lining them. Sanemi can feel his heart in his throat. He swallows thickly.
"Tomioka, have you been burning up this bad the entire time?" Sanemi says slowly in an attempt to hide the tremor in his voice. Tomioka is too close and his eyes are too pretty and—
Tomioka chews at his lower lip nervously and Sanemi wonders what he did in his past life to karmically deserve this. "I woke up with a fever this morning. But it's nothing I can't handle, Shinazugawa-san—"
"Bullshit," Sanemi spits out, pushing Tomioka to lay back on the futon. He tosses the layers of blankets Tomioka has swaddled himself with off the other man, ignoring the noise of protest from him. Sanemi could care less about whatever he was upset about, his priority being to free Tomioka's overheating body from the burrow he'd created. "Shut up, we have to get your fever down, Tomioka, you're going to overheat under all this."
Tomioka lets out a quiet whine and Sanemi's head snaps up to finally look at him and not the blankets he was ripping off his body. Sanemi thinks he can hear Kanzaburo's distressed caws but it is quickly drowned out as his ears begin to ring.
There are tears in Tomioka Giyuu's wide blue eyes and his expression is pained like Sanemi had stabbed him or something.
What the fuck was going on?
"Tomioka, what—" Sanemi growls, frustrated by this problem he can't even begin to solve because he doesn't know what's wrong. Regardless, he needs to fix it—something beyond him, something more instinctual is telling him to fix whatever is happening to Tomioka right now.
Sanemi distantly realizes Tomioka is only wearing a loose jinbei top that he's all but sweated through as a shiver runs up Tomioka's entire body. He can't risk covering Tomioka in a blanket, though, and immediately resolves to untie the tasuki and drape his haori across Tomioka. He ignores the way Tomioka's thin fingers instantly latch onto the fabric and pull it closer and how something deep inside him preens—he has to.
He has to.
Sanemi shakily lays a wet compress across Tomioka's forehead and uses another rag to dab at his exposed neck and chest. Tomioka's breathing is rapidly becoming more labored and his eyes clamp shut as his brows furrow in some form of pain. His fingers twist in the material of Sanemi's haori but this time it does nothing but fill Sanemi with dread.
Sanemi feels a sense of panic begin to travel up his spine and rest at the base of his skull like a knife. This isn't good, Tomioka's fever is spiking too high to be safe. Clearly, Sanemi's efforts aren't helping, he needs— Tomioka needs a real doctor.
"Kanzaburo!" Sanemi snaps, wide eyes locking with the crow's nervous, beady ones. "Go get Kocho, hurry!"
Kanzaburo scrambles from where he had roosted on the windowsill apprehensively, swooping out the open window and taking flight in the direction of what was hopefully the Butterfly Mansion.
Sanemi returns his attention to what is quickly becoming a puddle of a Water Hashira on the futon. "Fuck, Tomioka. We really need to get your fever down," he gripes, taking the rag pressed to Tomioka's forehead and rewetting it before applying it back to the flushed skin. A small shiver shakes Tomioka as his blue eyes, so dark and cloudy with delirium, blink up at him. Something Sanemi can't name swirls in the deep ocean of those eyes and Sanemi feels his mouth going dry once again.
Sanemi turns his focus to wiping Tomioka's skin, hoping the drag of the damp rag will help cool Tomioka down long enough to stall until Kocho can arrive. He wipes and wipes and wipes, uncharacteristically frazzled by his concern for Tomioka Giyuu of all people. Sure, he couldn't stand the guy, but he was still fighting this war on the same side as him; that's all it was, a desire to not lose a soldier to something as stupid as a fever.
Slowly, the air shifts as a scent other than sweat and the cooling porridge fills the air. It's soft, barely noticeable at first, but it tickles Sanemi's nose with its damp, earthy and subtly sweet smell—like calendulas on the riverbank.
Sanemi had never thought Tomioka to be an alpha. Yes, he was a strong Hashira, though Sanemi would never admit that aloud, but while he was confrontational at times he was never… imposing like the other alphas. Sanemi just assumed him to be a beta, which aided to his dislike of the man; Tomioka's penchant to posture himself better than the rest of them and slip in sly comments here and there was a deeply disrespectful way for a beta to act towards alphas.
But had he been an alpha all along? It didn't change much of his opinion of the other, but it did make Sanemi realize he was disturbing Tomioka's den. Which makes sense now, why Tomioka was so upset he messed with his blankets. Sanemi pointedly ignored the thought worming at the back of his mind about the way Tomioka clutched his haori.
"Hey, Tomioka, why didn't you just tell me you were an alpha?" Sanemi huffs. "I wouldn't have barged in like this if you had said something, idiot."
Confusion, recognition, and… fear flashes in Tomioka's eyes for a moment before he weakly reigns his expression in. "Yes. I am an alpha, so you— you should leave, now."
Sanemi narrows his eyes at that. "Well I'm not leaving now until Kocho gets here, it's too risky with your fever. So, suck it up, asshole."
Sanemi resumes dabbing at Tomioka's heated skin, even as his scent begins to overwhelm Sanemi. Christ, he stank, more than a regular alpha. More like—
"Tomioka, are you—" Sanemi pulls away, covering his nose; he doesn't miss the hurt in Tomioka's face, but he doesn't know why, given it was normal for alphas to not enjoy each other's scents. "Tomioka, are you going into a rut?"
Tomioka's silence is answer enough. It pisses Sanemi off.
"You seriously had me worrying about you, you know that, right?" Sanemi snarls, throwing the rag into the half empty bucket. The water splashes onto the tatami floor. Sanemi hopes it molds. "Just for it to be a fucking rut and not a real fever? I should kick your ass, Tomioka."
Sanemi stands up, fully intending on leaving Tomioka to suffer until Kocho can arrive and pump him with drugs or— whatever. He doesn't care. "Next time just call for a damn omega instead of wasting my time, bastard."
He takes one step before he's stopped by a tug on his tattsuke-hakama. Sanemi takes a deep breath, anything to keep his anger from boiling over, and turns to look at Tomioka, against all his better judgment. He should just leave. He shouldn't even give Tomioka the chance to— to stop him, to apologize, to do whatever it was he was grabbing him for.
Sanemi's vitriol curdles on his tongue as he locks eyes with Tomioka, face flushed, not just from his fever but from tears. Genuine, hot tears running in rivulets down Tomioka's face twisted in pain.
"Please," Tomioka rasps, as if it was taking him great effort to speak. "It's not…s'not a rut—"
His ears pound as the blood rushes to them. Sanemi feels like the world is tilting on its axis. What could Tomioka possibly mean—if not a rut, then…
His body figures out the answer before his mind can catch up. In span of a blink, Sanemi is on Tomioka, nose pressing so desperately to Tomioka's neck it stings. He drags the flat of his tongue along the skin there, anything to stain Tomioka with his scent.
Sanemi tugs at the blankets he carelessly tossed to the side, Tomioka's nest, pulling them back towards them. Above him, Tomioka lets out an appreciative chirp and adjusts the blankets into a halfway decent nest. Sanemi pulls away for a moment to look at the arrangement; it's not great, but something tells Sanemi that Tomioka doesn't do this often, if ever. It dawns on Sanemi that Tomioka may never have had a heat before, especially if he had been hiding his secondary gender all this time.
He quickly pulls off his uniform jacket and tucks in into the pile near Tomioka's head. He's rewarded with a quiet crackling noise that doesn't make it past Tomioka's throat, almost like he's choking on the noise. Sanemi tilts his head in confusion, worried maybe he overstepped.
Tomioka swallows, his throat bobbing as he concentrates on making the noise again. This time it comes out successfully, and Sanemi's breath stutters in his chest as Tomioka begins to purr.
Sanemi attacks Tomioka's neck again, nuzzling against the rumbling throat before nipping and sucking at the long column of skin.
One hand of Tomioka's still clutches Sanemi's haori, but the other comes up to tangle in the short hairs at the back of Sanemi's nape— and pulls. Sanemi growls, giving Tomioka a warning nip. Tomioka shudders beneath him.
Sanemi decides that Tomioka is entirely too clothed, and frankly it is getting in the way of his mouth on Tomioka's skin. He tugs the jinbei top up and over Tomioka's head, throwing it somewhere in the room. His mouth is immediately back on Tomioka, teeth sinking into the soft swell of Tomioka's pec.
Tomioka gasps, and Sanemi thinks he could get addicted to the sounds Tomioka makes. He wants to hear more.
Sanemi works his way down Tomioka's body, licking and biting and leaving a trail of marks in his wake, before he pauses at Tomioka's lower belly. "Tomioka…" Sanemi murmurs against the skin there, damp from his tongue.
Tomioka trembles lightly below Sanemi, the eyes staring down at Sanemi's are barely blue anymore, Tomioka's pupils blown so wide with lust. That pesky, pink tongue reappears as Tomioka slowly wets his chapped lips. Sanemi wants to bite it. "Sh-shinazu…gawa…" he pants out, struggling around the lengthy name. "It hurts."
Sanemi sits up sharply, grabbing Tomioka's hips with strong hands and lifting him up. Tomioka makes a noise of surprise as Sanemi maneuvers his lower half until he is seated between Tomioka's legs. Sanemi doesn't release his hold on Tomioka's hips, instead just lowering himself until his face is level with Tomioka's pelvis.
Tomioka Giyuu really was pretty all over, something that both pissed Sanemi off and turned him on all at once.
Tomioka's cock is flushed a rosy pink from the base up to the head that was an angry red from how painfully hard he was. Below it, sat Tomioka's plump cunt, dripping wet with slick. Sanemi buries his nose against the junction where Tomioka's thigh ended and hip began, intoxicated by how strong the scent of calendulas and rain is here.
There was an audible slap as Tomioka clamped his hands over his mouth when Sanemi dragged his tongue along the omega's slit for the first time. The touch is tentative at first, testing the waters, before Sanemi dives right in.
Sanemi laps at the sensitive skin of Tomioka's pussy, dragging his tongue up its entirety before curling it around his clit. Tomioka shook underneath him, his white-knuckle grip on his jaw barely muffling the loud cries escaping his throat. Sanemi smirks against Tomioka's cunt, an idea brewing in his mind.
He slowly moves his hands from their home on Tomioka's hips, instead tracing light patterns in the other's skin on their way to where Sanemi had his sights on. His hands take turns dragging through Tomioka's slit, collecting the slick there on his fingers.
Tomioka didn't dare take his hands from his mouth as he stared down at Sanemi, eyes wide with panicked lust. It was a sickeningly good look on him.
Sanemi chuckles lowly, one hand moving to wrap around Tomioka's cock and the other slipping two thick fingers into Tomioka's hot cunt. He wraps his lips around the swelling bud at the top of Tomioka's pussy and gives it a harsh suck—and starts moving both his hands.
Tomioka screams, hands flying to grab at the walls of the nest surrounding him. He arches off the futon, legs kicking out under him and shaking his head from side to side. "Sh-shin—ah…zuga—ah, ah, ah!"
Sanemi twists the hand around Tomioka's cock as he pumps it, matching it with the thrusts of his fingers in Tomioka's cunt. He was squeezing him so fucking tight, it made Sanemi a little dizzy thinking about how Tomioka was going to feel around his cock.
Tomioka is drenched, slick oozing from his cunt at such a steady pace that it drips down Sanemi's scarred arm like a stream. And fuck, does it taste good on Sanemi's tongue.
Sanemi flicks his tongue against Tomioka's clit, reveling in the way he squirms below him. "Fuck, Tomioka, your pretty little cunt tastes so good," Sanemi groans, adding a third finger to fuck into Tomioka.
Tomioka whines, high and reedy, so lost in his pleasure he can't even open his eyes anymore, doesn't even try to speak. He just rolls his hips in time with Sanemi's fingers, fucking himself down on the intrusion greedily. Watching Tomioka use him to chase his own pleasure stirs something inside Sanemi, something dark and a little possessive.
Sanemi wants to fuck Tomioka, so, so bad. He doesn't know how much longer he can go without being inside the omega, especially after watching the stoic Water Hashira lose himself to his pleasure.
Sanemi drags his tongue along the underside of Tomioka's cock, huffing a breath against the sensitive, damp skin. "Tomioka, I need you to cum for me," he mumbles, giving Tomioka another lick. "I can't fuck you until you cum, sweetheart. It's not gonna fit this tight cunt of yours if you don't."
Tomioka's pretty little moans fill the air like music to Sanemi's ears. Sanemi takes Tomioka into his mouth and swallows him to the base, speeding up his thrusts into Tomioka's cunt until his arm starts to burn with the strain. Tomioka's trembles turn into full body shakes as his first orgasm of the night rapidly approaches.
"Sh-shina…zuga—ah—" Tomioka gasps out wetly, reaching for Sanemi.
"Sanemi," he groans, pumping Tomioka's cock, "I wanna hear you cry out Sanemi when you cum, sweetheart."
Sanemi slams his fingers so hard and deep into Tomioka's cunt that the butt of his palm smashes against his clit. On a particularly deep thrust, Tomioka throws his head back, hips lifting off the futon. "Sh—Sanemi!" he screams out, hands desperately searching for Sanemi.
Sanemi gladly releases Giyuu's cock for the reaching hand, using it for leverage to pull himself up. He continues to finger Giyuu into oblivion, his cunt becoming impossibly tight with his orgasm, and Sanemi presses his lips to Giyuu's. He whimpers against Sanemi's lips, grasping his hand like a lifeline as the most intense orgasm of his life racks his body.
"Sa—nemi, S'nemi, Sanemi," Giyuu chants, delirious with the pleasure.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that," Sanemi murmurs, licking into Giyuu's mouth. "You sound so good screaming my name, G—Tomioka."
Sanemi can barely keep his fingers from slipping out as he thrusts them in the last few times, intent on drawing out Tomioka's orgasm to the point of overstimulation. The tears pooling in the corners of his sapphire eyes when he finally opens them again only heighten Sanemi's arousal.
"Please," Tomioka pleads, his teary eyes searching Sanemi's face nervously, "please call me Giyuu."
Sanemi's cheeks warm. Somehow this is more embarrassing than anything else he'd dealt with today, but he nods slowly. He leans in to press a nervous, almost shy kiss to Giyuu's soft and swollen lips. "Giyuu…"
Giyuu smiles up at him, tentative, small, but a real smile. Sanemi can't stop himself from kissing him again, harder and more desperately. Giyuu meets his kiss with parted lips, humming happily when Sanemi slips his tongue into his welcoming mouth.
They make out like that, warm and gooey and just enjoying each other's presence, for a few minutes until Giyuu starts grinding down against Sanemi's fingers, still firmly inside him. "Please, more," Giyuu pants against Sanemi's lips, arms wrapping around his neck.
Sanemi curls his fingers inside Giyuu's cunt, pressing against the thickened bundle there, and Giyuu gasps. Sanemi bullies the spot for a bit, watching Giyuu fall apart on his fingers once again, his orgasms coming easier now after the first one. And god, does he look good cumming for Sanemi; Giyuu is in for a long night now that he's awakened this beast within Sanemi.
He trails his kisses from Giyuu's lips up his jaw and rests them against Giyuu's temple. Sanemi rolls his hips just once against Giyuu's thigh, pressing the hard outline of his cock against the plush limb. "Let me fuck you, Omega," Sanemi grunts, voice a little breathy with need.
Giyuu's breath hitches, and he's quiet for a moment before he shyly nods. Sanemi smiles against his temple.
He slips his fingers out from Giyuu's cunt, rolling his wrist to relieve some of the ache; Giyuu whines at the loss, but is quickly silenced when Sanemi reaches for the waistband of his hakama. Sanemi wants to make a show of it, tease Giyuu a bit by making him wait, but Sanemi realizes that also means he has to wait—and he's certain if he's not inside Giyuu in the next 30 seconds his cock might explode.
Sanemi shoves his pants down, not even bothering to kick them off, barely taking the time to pull his aching cock from his fundoshi before sliding inside Giyuu's cunt in one thrust. Between Sanemi's preparation and how drenched Giyuu is, the glide is more than easy.
Sanemi pauses after fully sheathing himself inside Giyuu, having to bite his tongue to keep himself from orgasming right then. If Giyuu felt good on his fingers, the feeling of his tight cunt warm and wet and squeezing down on his cock is otherworldly. "Fuuuck," Sanemi moans, rubbing a hand up and down Giyuu's thigh in an attempt to ground himself.
After Sanemi feels like he can move without cumming too early, he slowly starts to thrust inside Giyuu.
No hand or mouth Sanemi has ever been inside before could compare to the feeling of fucking Tomioka Giyuu. He feels so good, so perfect, a delusional part of Sanemi is starting to believe Giyuu was made for him. Sanemi was probably ruined for anyone else after this, because he couldn't fathom another a hole as inviting attached to a face as pretty as Giyuu's.
Fuck, Sanemi was so screwed.
"S'nemi," Giyuu slurs, reaching up for Sanemi again. Sanemi leans forward without a second thought, careful to not slow the pace of his thrusts. Giyuu's lithe fingers paw at the back of his neck, and Sanemi is confused at what exactly Giyuu wants until he feels a pinch of pain; Giyuu pulls his hands back, Sanemi's scent blocker pinched between two fingers. "I want to smell you, too."
"Oh yeah?" Sanemi snorts, smirking down at Giyuu—though internally his inner alpha howling. A wicked, possessive feeling swells inside Sanemi at Giyuu's gesture. "Don't complain if you don't like it, then."
Sanemi shifts to straddle Giyuu's thigh, lifting his other leg onto his shoulder. The new angle is deep, and good, if the loud moan it gets out of Giyuu is any indication. Sanemi nips bruises into the pale skin of Giyuu's knee as he speeds up his hips.
He isn't sure how much longer he can last like this, and Giyuu is starting to squeeze around him with an impending climax. "Fuck, Giyuu, relax," he gasps out, brow furrowed in concentration—he can't cum just yet.
"C-can't," Giyuu whines, rolling his hips in time with Sanemi's. "Feels too good, gonna cum again, gonna—"
Sanemi bites his cheek, hard, pulling out of Giyuu as he starts to cum. He uses one hand to tightly grip the base of his own cock to stave off his orgasm and the other to fuck three fingers into Giyuu as he rides out his orgasm.
Giyuu thrashes around, and Sanemi realizes too late that its not just from his orgasm as Giyuu claws at any bit of Sanemi he can reach. He levels Sanemi with a glare so fierce even as Giyuu's eyes are still glassy and pupils blown wide with his climax; a shiver runs down Sanemi's spine and the message in that look is instinctively clear—do not pull out like that again.
Sanemi runs his hands over Giyuu's body apologetically, gently shifting Giyuu onto his belly. He adjusts the blankets surrounding them until Giyuu's hips are comfortably raised without having to hold himself up. He's about to push back inside when Giyuu struggles to lift his torso up. Sanemi is confused until Giyuu wrestles Sanemi's haori out from under himself.
"You're trying to kill me," Sanemi groans, but helps Giyuu slip his arms into the sleeves regardless.
He stares for a moment, his mind and his hindbrain lagging pathetically, as he drinks in the sight of Tomioka Giyuu—naked save for his own haori, chest pressed into the futon with his ass lifted in the air, presenting his pretty, dripping wet pussy.
Sanemi doesn't know what he did in his past life to karmically deserve this, but he'll definitely make an offering at the nearest temple soon. Probably.
He uses his own legs to knock Giyuu's knees further apart, spreading his cunt open in a delicious invitation. Sanemi is done waiting, his cock aching as he slides back into Giyuu's welcoming heat. He doubles over Giyuu's back, hissing a breath out between clenched teeth. "So tight."
Giyuu mewls as Sanemi fills him once again, back arching and thighs trembling. He mumbles into the fabric of the futon, and Sanemi strains to hear him.
"What was that, sweetheart?" Sanemi asks, punctuating each word with a thrust.
"I said— feels, ah," Giyuu moans loudly, a shudder running down his spine, "feels good, Sanemi. S-so full."
Sanemi barks out a laugh, a wolfish smile stretching across his face. "Oh yeah? I'm filling and fucking you good, Giyuu?"
Giyuu nods sheepishly.
"Good," Sanemi grunts, speeding up his thrusts. "Keep going. I wanna hear more about how my cock makes you feel."
Giyuu whines, shaking his hips to meet each of Sanemi's thrusts and draw him impossibly deeper. "Your cock feels..so good, S'nemi, feels like it was made for me, mh— so big, ah, deep, so deep, Sanemi. More, please."
Sanemi feels crazed, listening to Giyuu babble on about his cock— made for him? Tomioka Giyuu was going to be the death of him. "Beg for it."
"Huh?" Giyuu gasps, his confusion obvious in his voice.
Sanemi leans over Giyuu, pressing his chest to Giyuu's back. He noses at Giyuu's nape until he finds the soft, vulnerable skin there. Sanemi drags his tongue across the heated flesh. "Beg for my knot, Giyuu."
Giyuu clenches around his cock, so tightly Sanemi almost thinks he came again, before turning his head to look at Sanemi over his shoulder. "Knot me, Alpha. Mh, please, breed me. Fill me, ah— fill me with your pups."
Sanemi digs his fingers so harshly into the tender skin of Giyuu's waist he can already see the pale skin begin to bruise. Giyuu gasps at the roughness, unconsciously spreading his legs further, lifting his hips higher. Sanemi starts a pace so fast and intense that Giyuu is knocked forward with each thrust. "Yeah? You want my pups? You want me to put a litter in your belly that bad? Fuck, Giyuu, I wanna breed that tight little cunt of yours so bad."
He's borderline hysterical now, Giyuu having unleashed something Sanemi didn't know needed to stay caged and muzzled inside him. "Gonna have you so round with my pups you won't be able to hide that you're an omega anymore, or that you're mine. You hear that? You belong to me. Say you're mine."
"M-m'yours," Giyuu whimpers out, fingers twisting in the blankets as he focuses on just trying to breathe.
"Fuck yeah you are, you better not forget it," Sanemi snarls. "Nobody's gonna fuck you like this, they better not even try. I'll—I'll fucking kill them if they try to lay a hand on you."
Distantly, Sanemi thinks he hears Giyuu say something about cumming, but his mind is thick with a fog and his head feels like it's underwater. He thinks he's still in control of his body, but his limbs feel heavy, even if he can't stop thrusting into Giyuu with reckless abandon. There's a snapping noise somewhere, but he doesn't know where.
S…n..i..?
S..ne…i.
Sa…em…i!
"Sanemi!"
Sanemi snaps back into focus, suddenly aware of his surroundings. Below him, Giyuu looks panicked and there's—
There's blood on Giyuu's hand as it presses to the nape of his neck and a metallic taste in his mouth.
Sanemi's heart drops into his stomach, he didn't—he couldn't have—did he?
"I-I didn't mean to—"
"You— you didn't, it's okay, Sanemi," Giyuu says softly, looking at Sanemi like he's a wounded animal. "I covered my neck, it's my hand that's bleeding."
Sanemi shrinks in on himself, shakily withdrawing his hands from Giyuu's waist. There are purple hand prints from where he'd gripped Giyuu so tightly. "What the fuck is wrong with me…"
"Hey, it's—" Giyuu twists his upper body to look at Sanemi more easily. "It's fine, Sanemi. I think— I think I triggered your rut."
Huh.
"That would… explain some things," Sanemi concedes, still avoiding Giyuu's eyes. He feels so fucking bad for hurting Giyuu.
Giyuu reaches for Sanemi's hand, taking it gingerly into his uninjured hand. He gives it a soft squeeze and when Sanemi looks up Giyuu is smiling at him. It's soft and it's shy and it's… free of any traces of fear. Giyuu isn't looking at him with even a hint of fear.
"Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean I can't protect myself, Sanemi," Giyuu intones, giving Sanemi's hand a firmer squeeze. Sanemi understands the implication.
"I know, just—" Sanemi sighs, ruffling his bangs in frustrations. "If I get all crazy like that again, just fucking kick me off and beat my ass."
"Easily," Giyuu deadpans, but there's a cheeky glint to his eye. "Now hurry up and knot me, Sanemi, or I'll find an alpha who will."
Sanemi growls, narrowing his eyes at Giyuu. "Good luck finding one who can fuck you like I do, sweetheart."
Giyuu snorts, but doesn't have any further retorts. He turns his back to Sanemi once more, but his hand stays firmly over his nape.
Sanemi swallows the bitter feeling like one of Kocho's nasty medicine balls. He knows they can't afford to make that mistake, not with the war still going and no promise for a future, but it doesn't lessen the hurt of Giyuu making it clear he does not want something like that with him. Whatever, he doesn't care.
Sanemi places his hands on Giyuu hips, at little gentler this time, and slowly builds his pace back up.
It doesn't take him long to work back up to where they were before Sanemi lost control, and Giyuu is quickly back to writhing on his cock.
Sanemi runs his hands over Giyuu's hips, kneading the plump flesh there, soaking up Giyuu's pleased trill. Sanemi is still floored that somehow following a senile bird resulted in Tomioka Giyuu pliant and purring on his cock. He'd have to get Kanzaburo a treat next time he goes into town. "Soo sweet for me, aren't you? Such a good little omega."
Giyuu gasps, going still—and Sanemi wonders if he said too much—but then Giyuu is melting into the nest. "Just want— just want to be good, for you. Ah, only you."
Sanemi exhales sharply out his nose, pressing his chest to Giyuu's back and bringing one of his hands around to rest low on Giyuu's stomach. "You are, look how well you're taking my cock, sweetheart." Sanemi applies a little bit of pressure to the thin skin of Giyuu's belly, reveling in the way he can feel the bump of his own cock thrusting deep inside Giyuu.
"Sanemi, wait, I—" Giyuu scrabbles at the blankets in sudden panic, writhing beneath Sanemi. "'M gonna cum—"
Sanemi chuckles against Giyuu's shoulder, pushing down on Giyuu's stomach at the same time he thrusts in hard. Giyuu screams, throwing his head back as slick and cum gush down his thighs onto the futon below.
"That's it, let it out," Sanemi coos, kissing Giyuu's shoulder and continuing to roll his hips. "So fucking perfect."
Giyuu whines, low and long, going boneless into the nest. "S'not fair…"
"Hmm, what was that?" Sanemi hums, a satisfied smirk hanging on his lips.
Giyuu swats at Sanemi petulantly. "It's not fair… You won't cum in me."
Sanemi knows it's the heat and Giyuu's omega talking, but it still has his blood igniting in his veins.
"So fucking greedy. Such a greedy little omega. I'll give you want you want, but you better not complain after."
Sanemi leans back, sliding a hand up Giyuu's back and dragging his haori up to reveal the expanse of skin, before twining his fingers in Giyuu's inky hair. Sanemi pulls his hips back, pauses, then slams his hips in at the same time he yanks Giyuu's hair back.
Giyuu arches off the futon, hand slipping from his nape so he can use both to brace himself upright. "O-oh my fu—"
"Ah, ah," Sanemi chides, the sound of flesh smacking together filling the room, "I said no complaining."
Sanemi's breath begins to come out in heavy pants, the exertion starting to catch up with him. He's close, he can tell, and the telltale swelling of his knot catches on Giyuu's cunt. He won't last much longer at this pace.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight, Giyuu," he grunts out, using the hand in Giyuu's hair to shake Giyuu's head lightly. "You must want my knot bad, huh?"
Giyuu whines, nodding his head vigorously. "Yes, yes, please— want it, S'nemi, want you."
"Fuuuuck," Sanemi moans, releasing Giyuu's hair to grab his waist with both hands. Not as tightly as before, but Giyuu still flinches from the pressure on the bruises already there. Sanemi rubs his thumbs soothingly against the skin there until Giyuu's relaxes.
The base of his cock has swelled enough that it forces Sanemi to slow his pace and focus on thrusting hard, deeper, to force the knot in and out of Giyuu's battered pussy. Giyuu is shaking now, still too soon after his last climax as hes on the verge of his next—the poor thing experiencing one endless orgasm.
Sanemi pulls back one last time, suddenly nervous. "Giyuu, you sure I can—"
Giyuu clenches around his cock like a vice, throwing him the fiercest look all night over his shoulder. "Knot me, Alpha," he snarls, eyes flashing.
Sanemi doesn't have to be told twice.
He thrusts one final time, bullying his knot snugly inside Giyuu's trembling cunt. His vision whites out as finally, finally he cums inside Giyuu.
Giyuu squirms beneath him, blue eyes lost as they roll back into his skull. The omega's cunt pulses around Sanemi's cock, signaling another orgasm being ripped from Giyuu. A fresh round of tears rolls down his cheeks, joining with the drool dripping from his lips.
Sanemi's jaw aches, his teeth itch, he—he needs to bite.
Blood splatters on the white of his haori as Sanemi sinks his fangs into the meat of his forearm. It hurts like hell, but he's not stupid enough to bite Giyuu right now. But his need to bite is satisfied, and the pain dulls immediately as a new wave of pleasure washes over him.
Sanemi reaches down, fingers running over Giyuu's tummy, distended from just how much cum Sanemi has locked inside him with his knot. He almost already feels pregnant. Giyuu whimpers as Sanemi's cock twitches at the thought.
Their labored breathing begins to finally even out—and suddenly Sanemi feels… awkward. Unsure of where they even go from here, especially if Giyuu doesn't intend to mate him.
A stupid thought of 'what are we?'
Sanemi opens his mouth to voice the stupid thought, "Giyuu—"
There's a chorus of gasps from the doorway.
"Oh my…"
"How flashy!"
"Greetings Kocho, Uzui—"
"Get the fuck out!?"
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