Chapter Text
His jaw hurts with how hard it is clenching. His teeth grind down against each other. The need, Atsumu’s need, is almost all Shoyo can feel. His head swims as he forces his mouth to stay shut.
He can't. Not like this. Even though he can feel that Atsumu wants it too.
God he can feel how much Atsumu wants it- but he truly cannot risk it. He cannot pass that threshold while Atsumu is drowning in pheromones and submission.
He places his hand onto Atsumu's shoulder, letting his thumb gently run along his setter’s sensitive gland. The blonde whimpers, eyes closed and head still turned away. Shoyo puts his mouth behind Atsumu’s ear, kissing his neck and up into his hair. His other hand raising to gently hold Atsumu’s face - mostly to keep it in place.
Shoyo’s voice comes out deeper than he expected, his words clipped, making it evident how hard he’s working to talk at all.
“Fuck I want to mate you.”
Atsumu sucks in a breath as he stays still under Shoyo.
“Tomorrow, if you want it,” Shoyo nearly growls the words, “I'll make you mine.”
Shoyo’s heat solo lasts a minimum of 3 days - the first day is always the most excruciating. The second, Shoyo finally has some brain back, and the heat becomes more of a mental battle than a physical one. Day three, is usually spent trying to refuel and recover, his hormones still too elevated to leave the house.
A bad heat, which they all had started being towards the end there, lasts at least five days. A whole week- gone in his hormone fueled state.
Shoyo has no clue what the timeline of this one will be, it already feels like so much has changed in just a few hours. Was he really at morning practice earlier?
Atsumu’s voice gives a dry sob, and he tries to turn to face Shoyo.
The spiker applies more pressure, keeping Atsumu’s head turned to the side. He needs even just that extra little bit of room. If Atsumu looks into his eyes and begs now…Shoyo may have a large well of self control…but even that might not be enough.
“Tomorrow,” Shoyo says, “I promise.”
Atsumu fights him for another few seconds, hands coming up from Shoyo’s hips to land on his upper back and bicep.
Atsumu’s fingertips brush over Shoyo’s oversensitive skin. Teasing touches that spark something deep inside Shoyo. The light, brushing touches make Shoyo start to feel fucking insane. Like the sensation of something unknown tickling you- the need to brush it away, to scratch the itch, to do something rakes across his mind.
He grabs Atsumu’s arms and pins them down to the bed. He latches their hands together and keeps the setter down.
“Tomorrow.” Shoyo says with finality. He won't be mating Atsumu until he knows it is what the man wants and not just a bad choice caused by being drugged up on hormones.
Atsumu whines, hands momentarily fighting against Shoyo's, trying to break free of the constraint.
“Stay,” Shoyo growls into Atsumu's ear. Shoyo listens to Atsumu pant harshly as his body slowly relaxes against Shoyo and the bed.
“Good boy,” Shoyo whispers softly, nuzzling against the side of Atsumu’s face. Atsumu hums happily, despite how he had just been fighting for his hands back.
Shoyo could drown in this version of Atsumu. Shoyo can see a future where he does truly fall into Atsumu, letting himself act on urge- following the desire and need that Atsumu puts forth.
I'm going to wreck you, Shoyo thinks. Wreck you until you forget about anything other than pleasure and desire.
Atsumu flexes his hips, seeming to realize that although his hands are temporarily restrained, his legs have full freedom. He grinds up against Shoyo’s thigh, his cock wet enough to leave Shoyo’s leg wet too.
Shoyo wishes he could easily see, he bets Atsumu has been leaking this whole fucking time- just loving being put in his place. Loving being under Shoyo’s control.
Plus… “I want you to know what it feels like first,” Shoyo whispers in his ear, still nuzzling against his setter, “How it feels to let me use you, take everything I need-”
Shoyo’s focus is so narrow- purely paying attention to each and every thing Atsumu does. How he breathes, the pathetic little sounds his throat is making, how his body squirms and arches in search of more. All of it. Everything is immediate and real. No overthinking. No calculated choices. He lets himself act on instinct.
He can let himself act on instinct because he is so focused on Atsumu. Because his instinct is to hone in on the man under him. He doesn't want anything Atsumu doesn't want. And he can feel, with every breath he breathes he can feel how desperate Atsumu is to be used.
“I'm going to use you,” Shoyo breathes into the man's ear.
And the softly spoken, barely audible, “please,” from Atsumu's lips, sinks the final nail into their coffin.
“I'm going to-” Shoyo kisses down Atsumu’s neck, nipping with just the barest hints of a bite as he goes- “mark you up,” his teeth scrape over the column of Atsumu’s neck.
“Yes-” Atsumu breathes, his fingers clenching around Shoyo’s, but he doesn't try to break free.
Shoyo smiles and continues to kiss along Atsumu's neck until he reaches that spot he had been staring at earlier. Right over his pulse point, throbbing under his lips.
He feels nearly drunk on it all. So close to Atsumu’s gland- hearing the affirmation that yes, Atsumu wants to be marked- and then there is Shoyo’s own raw desire to claim the man under him.
His lips kiss and then latch onto that sensitive spot on Atsumu’s neck. It's not a claiming bite on his gland - but it's something that everyone will see - see that someone has already marked Atsumu as ‘theirs’.
He sucks, letting his teeth nip at the flesh. He wonders how easily Atsumu will bruise. He wonders how the setter will feel later when he looks at his body and sees all the places Shoyo's mouth has been.
Shoyo keeps the pressure on Atsumu’s skin until he literally cannot wait anymore. He gives a last little bite, just pressing his teeth against the skin without following through. He pulls his head back and looks down at his work.
His stomach drops as his eyes take in the bright red, already starting to mottle purple mark. It fuels something, or maybe breaks some last barrier within Shoyo. He releases Atsumu’s hands, instead using his own to hold Atsumu’s head in place. One hand on Atsumu’s exposed jaw, pressing down to keep his head pinned, the other burying into the setter’s hair, holding tight.
Shoyo growls the word ‘Mine’ as he dives back in, letting his mouth feast on Atsumu’s neck. The setter moans softly, his breath hitching anytime he feels Shoyo’s teeth. Atsumu keeps his hands where Shoyo left them, still adhering to when Shoyo told him to ‘stay’.
Shoyo’s mouth works over Atsumu’s neck, marking him up like a canvas. He turns Atsumu’s head to point the other direction and relishes the newly available unmarked skin.
Atsumu writhes under him, just the gentlest touch of Shoyo’s lips along his previously untouched throat seeming to overwhelm the man.
Shoyo wonders what it feels like for Atsu to give it up willingly. No life, society, or birth status, hitting you back to your side. Just, freedom and trust.
Actual choice in the matter. Submission by force - submission by choice. Two completely different worlds.
And now Shoyo gets to choose. He kisses up towards Atsumu’s ear, one hand holding the setter’s head in place. Shoyo could keep kissing and teasing him like this- possibly all night if he wanted.
Would Atsumu reach a point of frustration where he couldn't take it anymore? Would it trigger his innate need for control? Would he fight Shoyo for dominance?
Would Shoyo be able to put up a fight?
Would he want to?
At the moment, these all flit through Shoyo’s mind while almost all of his attention is directed at his mouth on Atsumu’s throat.
He opens his jaw, wrapping his mouth around the curve of Atsumu’s neck. His top and bottom teeth gently press into the thin skin of Atsumu’s neck. Shoyo isn't in danger of puncturing the scent gland- but the dominant effect is all the same. Shoyo holds Atsumu’s throat in his mouth, intense damage a second away if Shoyo chose to bite.
He feels Atsumu swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing against Shoyo’s bottom lip. Shoyo feels the almost insane way his mouth waters, like his body knows what lies under his teeth.
He increases the pressure, just a fraction, just enough to ensure that Atsumu feels it. Shoyo’s other hand is wrapped around the far side of Atsumu’s throat, bracing the man into Shoyo’s jaw.
And Atsumu, a powerful -intense as the sun- Alpha…takes it. He lies there, breathing shallowly, chest rising and falling quickly, while he lets Shoyo hold his safety in his mouth.
Shoyo isn't sure he’s ever felt so high. Winning points- well earned skills finally accomplished - kids, inspired, asking for their balls to be signed- post interview- post winning point…the sound of the ball hitting the ground, determining the direction of the tide, your hand still stinging from the impact…nothing, not even that, feels like this.
Shoyo growls, the surge inside of himself overflowing in a way he’s never done before. He’s never growled like this, just a pure rumbling from his chest. Never.
Somehow, Atsumu becomes even softer underneath him. Complete deference. Trust. Submission.
Shoyo’s tongue laves against Atsumu’s throat, against the pulse point trapped in his mouth, teeth just still barely pushing against fragile skin.
Atsumu whines, his body shaking slightly.
Shoyo hasn't closed his eyes, looking forwards at the bedding and blonde hair in his field of vision. It feels like he couldn't close his eyes if he wanted to. There is a part of him that drives him to stay vigilant. Atsumu is submitting, vulnerable…Shoyo will watch. Will make sure it stays safe.
Heat prickles at the back of his neck. He feels the eyes of the other two alphas on him, nearly completely forgotten at the other end of the bed.
Kiyoomi didn't interrupt at all…his presence mostly muted, just calming, likely for Bokuto’s sake.
Shoyo still needs. His body still craves more - needs to be used in ways that will trigger the heat to progress. It's awful when he can't get the heat progress…like a special, evil kind of torture, to be stuck wanting and needing with no relief.
He breathes out through his nose, his jaw aching to close. Atsumu wants it too. Shoyo can feel that well enough. Atsumu, hard against Shoyo’s thigh, wants just as much as Shoyo. The spiker isn't sure if it's just his own pheromones reflected through the setter…they are genuinely felt all the same.
The heat crawls down Shoyo’s back, seeping deeper into his skin. Atsumu takes in a shaking breath, his hands still resting idly up above his head.
“Yes-” Atsumu whispers, the sound loud in Shoyo’s ear, “-want it.”
Shoyo listens to Atsumu swallow, his lower jaw moving with the motion.
“Take it,” Atsumu says, “please.”
The fire inside of Shoyo fully rekindles. Heat and warms radiating from within him.
Well, who is Shoyo to deny such a needy, submissive Alpha?