Snow Man, Koi no ABO

Title: Koi no ABO [Watanabe/Miyadate]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17
Summary: Miyadate’s heat starting suddenly means Watanabe has to take care of him.
AN: Written for shiritori. Uh not sure why this happened but I wrote 3k of NSFW Nabesho/Date ABO fic where Date is an unusually clingy omega because it’s all I’ve been able to think about for 3 days, for no reason at all.

Koi no ABO

“You awake?” Watanabe asked softly. Miyadate groaned softly and Watanabe’s heart wavered. He didn’t want to wake Miyadate up, not when they were still a million hours down in their sleep deficit after Isand. But Watanabe knew this was one of those times that being a good alpha meant doing what Miyadate needed and not so much what either of them wanted. “C’mon, open your eyes.”

“Time’s it?” Miyadate grunted, peeling his eyes open just enough to squint at the clock. He gave a whine at the time, a whole ten minutes before their alarm, and started to sit up, only to grunt in surprise when Watanabe’s palm smacked the center of his chest and forced him back down. “What the hell?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Watanabe told him, having to bite down on a smile when Miyadate gave a soft, annoyed growl. Cute.

“We have practice and…” Miyadate trailed off as Watanabe raised an eyebrow and trailed his palm down Miyadate’s chest. As soon as his palm was over Miyadate’s groin, Miyadate’s hips came up off the mattress like they’d been magnetized. Miyadate huffed an annoyed, “Uuuugh.”

Watanabe had known as soon as he woke up, Miyadate’s skin just a bit too warm, his scent too strong. His heat was starting.

“I’ll go tell your mom,” Watanabe said, but Miyadate wound arms around Watanbe’s neck and pulled him down.

“Noo, stay here,” Miyadate muttered. Watanabe chuckled softly, nosing at Miyadate’s scent glands and breathing in deeply. It was really tempting.

But Watanabe knew better. He could tell by Miyadate’s scent that they only had a couple hours until his heat would be setting in full force. Pressing a quick kiss to Miyadate’s throat, Watanabe pulled out of his grip, ignoring Miyadate’s soft whines.

“Shush, you,” he said with affection. Miyadate pouted at him, then rolled over on his face with a huff.

Miyadate’s mother drove them into Tokyo, Miyadate a useless sprawl of limbs in the backseat, head in Watanabe’s lap. He’d only bothered to throw on a worn T-shirt and sweatpants for the drive, and Watanabe still had to keep brushing Miyadate’s hands away from tugging at the collar. This part of the routine was familiar, Watanabe chattering lightly with Miyadate’s mother, only half an eye on Miyadate’s squirming and low whines for attention.

“Almost there,” Watanabe assured, wrapping fingers more tightly in Miyadate’s hair to give a firm tug. He put a little force into it when he ordered, “Calm down. You don’t have a seatbelt on.”

The apartment was small, but about what was to be expected renting as close to work as they could without being ludicrously expensive. After all of them had entered university, the six Snowmen had decided to go in on it together, which made it more than reasonable enough to have a place to crash during heats, or if work or school ran late, or sometimes just for a group sleepover. Between the six of them, at least one or two of them a month ended up needing the privacy of the space, and the way it smelled like all of them a little was comforting, or at least Watanabe thought so.

“Go on,” Watanabe nudged Miyadate inside, not that Miyadate needed much nudging. He kicked his shoes off haphazardly and was halfway across the apartment before Watanabe so much as got the door locked, shedding clothes this way and that.

“Hurry up,” he called over his shoulder, making Watanabe roll his eyes. Spoiled omega.

Watanabe did the few chores he had to do quickly, texting the others to say Miyadate’s heat was starting and calling work, hanging up his coat, and then going to the closet where they kept an impressive collection of pillows and blankets. Abe had neatly labeled plastic bins to keep some blankets for the three omegas unmixed with anyone else’s scents; Watanabe grabbed half the blankets from Miyadate’s bin and snapped the lid back on. He threw a couple of the common blankets over his shoulder before he shut the door, unable to anticipate at the start which scents Miyadate would want this time around.

“There you are,” Miyadate said when Watanabe came over, accusing as if Watanabe had been missing an hour instead of barely five minutes. He was flopped on his back, looking up at Watanabe balefully, upside-down.

“Here I am~.” Watanabe didn’t take any offense, dropping his armful of blankets on the bed while he stripped off his shirt and kicked off his jeans. “Which of those?”

Miyadate rolled over on his side and poked at the pile of blankets, pushing and pulling them until he decisively shoved the communal blankets off the edge of the bed. Watanabe chuckled, toeing the blankets to the side before climbing into bed.

“Just us, this time?” he asked, tugging Miyadate close and rubbing his cheek against Miyadate’s hair. Miyadate hummed a yes, burying his face in Watanabe’s neck and scenting him thoroughly. Because of course the bin marked just Miyadate might just as well have had both their names on it; Miyadate had never spent a heat here alone, and he wouldn’t ever if Watanabe had anything to say about it. “Want anything?”

“Just you,” Miyadate sighed, loose-limbed and relaxed. Watanabe liked all the parts of Miyadate’s heats, but this lazy part at the beginning was one of his favorites, Miyadate affectionate and clinging but without the frantic, anxious feel he generated in the middle. “Mm. Hey. Remember my first heat?”

Watanabe rolled his eyes; he wasn’t likely to forget it. During their first year of high school, Miyadate had started presenting in the middle of the school day, but it had been such a surprise that he was an omega, neither of them had understood what was going on. He’d been hiding in the bathroom when Watanabe came to find him, feverish and glazed, and Watanabe had been too confused to resist when Miyadate had pushed him up against the wall, kissing him fiercely, and shuddered himself out against Watanabe’s thigh before nearly fainting against him. Watanabe had taken him home to a thankfully empty house, tried to get him into bed, and ended up tumbled into bed himself, Miyadate demanding in no uncertain terms that Watanabe fuck him senseless.

When Miyadate brought it up, he always told the story like it was romantic and Watanabe was the strong alpha taking perfect care of him, but that was all colored by the first overwhelming rush of Miyadate’s hormones. Watanabe had not found it romantic at all when Miyadate’s mother had come home from shopping to find a panicked and wildly sex-haired Watanabe rushing down the stairs, in desperate need of a hug and reassurance that he wasn’t doing it all wrong.

“It was so embarrassing,” Watanabe grumbled. Thank goodness Miyadate-san already loved him like her own kid by then, but Watanabe still cringed to remember how he’d blurted out that Miyadate just wouldn’t stop so he must be terrible at it. “Your mom’s probably still laughing at me.”

“She loves you,” Miyadate said airily. And then, “I love you. Are you starting yet? I don’t smell it.”

“Not yet,” Watanabe confirmed, but it wouldn’t be long once Miyadate’s heat got going properly. Usually there was like less than twenty-four hours between the start of their heats, their bodies in regular sync after all this time. “Don’t rush it, at least one of us should start out sensible.”

Miyadate snorted. “Sensible, that’s you, all right. Kiss me?”

“Mmhmm.” Watanabe was quick to give Miyadate his way, crushing their mouths together and licking his way into Miyadate’s mouth possessively. Heat made Miyadate more vocal in his demands, which Watanabe was always glad to encourage.

Not that it was hard to tell what Miyadate wanted when he rolled onto his back, Watanabe’s weight over top of him, and wrapped legs around Watanabe’s waist. But it wouldn’t do to rush through this first part while Watanabe still had the sense to hold back, since Miyadate was more than ready to go, but outside of heat Watanabe took longer to build up to a knot.

Fortunately, Watanabe knew at least one thing that would distract Miyadate.

“You’re so hot like this,” Watanabe murmured, reaching up with one hand to stroke Miyadate’s mussed hair from his face. Miyadate’s eyes snapped open, a little glazed already, rubbing his cheek against Watanabe’s palm. “Flushed all over, so warm. The cutest pink.” Miyadate whined softly, tilting his head back to bare his throat, giving in to his natural urge for submission to get more favor out of his alpha. It almost made Watanabe laugh, because honestly, it wasn’t like he could want to spoil Miyadate anymore than he already did. “You want me that much already? You just started, there’s days left. I’m gonna take such good care of you, right?”

“Yeah,” Miyadate answered, breath already turning shallower, quicker. He was definitely in it now, noticeably warmer under Watanabe’s hands, his scent turning sweeter but darker, almost burnt, but to Watanabe it was like scorching sugar into caramel, rich and cloying. “Shota, please.”

“You sound so sweet begging for me,” Watanabe purred. “Please what? Tell me.” He ran a hand through Miyadate’s hair, working his fingers into it to scratch at his scalp. It was getting long at the moment, too busy for haircuts during the two-month show run, but Watanabe loved it like this. It was curling around his fingers, perfect to yank.

“Shotaaaa,” Miyadate sighed. He was hard against Watanabe’s thigh, rubbing up against it despite clinging too closely to really get any good friction out of it. “Want you, come on.”

“Let me see you first,” Watanabe said, sitting up and using his grip on Miyadate’s hair to keep him from following, keeping him flat to the bed. Miyadate made an open-throated noise of desperation, trying to lock his legs all the tighter around Watanabe’s waist, but Watanabe had better leverage. Miyadate was beautiful flushed all the way down, eyes dark and annoyed, biting down on his already kiss-puffed lips. Watanabe let go of Miyadate’s hair to drag fingers down his shoulder, tracing the sharp line of his collarbone until he grazed Miyadate’s nipple, the skin already drawn tight and hard under his thumb.

Miyadate’s whine rose half an octave, spreading his legs wider, desperate. His hips came up too, but Watanabe ordered him back down, nothing more than Miyadate’s name said firmly. Especially weak to Watanabe’s tone of voice at the start of a heat, Miyadate flopped back down
flat on the mattress, obedient but eyes plaintive, wide and wet and dark. It made Watanabe’s cock twitch, mostly hard himself by now, and the slight tightness at the base, signaling the start of his knot, said he could probably stop teasing Miyadate any time now.

“Show me,” Watanabe asked, voice low. “You want me to see, right?”

Without a trace of hesitation or embarrassment, Miyadate hooked hands under his knees and drew them back, exposing himself entirely to Watanabe. Miyadate was flushed even darker pink here, his hole twitching as Watanabe smoothed hands down the backs of Miyadate’s thighs and spread him open wider. Miyadate’s cock was curled up against his stomach, the tip wet when Watanabe let one hand drift up to rub fingers over the head.

“Shota?” Miyadate asked when Watanabe didn’t do anything other than look and tease at his tip.

“Shh, you’re so beautiful like this, I’m taking my time.” Watanabe licked his lips, nearly undone already by Miyadate spread out, aching just for him.

Without any more warning, Watanabe bent over to lick a sudden, wet stripe over Miyadate’s hole, and Miyadate yelped satisfyingly loudly. The skin was so delicate and soft here, hot with Miyadate’s desperation and heat, the feel of it against Watanabe’s mouth and tongue unlike anywhere else on Miyadate’s body. He was squirming under Watanabe’s hands, but Watanabe didn’t want to lift his head long enough to order him to stop; instead he just curled his hands around Miyadate’s thighs and held him more tightly, fingertips pressing into the velvety skin of Miyadate’s inner thighs.

Miyadate wailed Watanabe’s name in frustration, shuddering under his hands, and Watanabe thought hard about stay right where he was until Miyadate came the first time just from his fingers and mouth. As tempting as it was, Watanabe forced himself to sit up after a last lick. Miyadate’s heats were shorter and more pleasant overall if Watanabe knotted him on the first try.

“Roll over for me,” Watanabe said, urging Miyadate with the hands still wrapped around his hips.

“Nonono,” Miyadate protested, scowling. “This way.”

“Eh? You know I can get deeper the other way,” Watanabe reminded, which, like the knotting, often seemed more important right at the start of a heat. Miyadate shook his head stubbornly.

“I can’t kiss you that way! Please?” Miyadate held out his arms, and Watanabe chuckled in amusement as he leaned over Miyadate to give him what he wanted. The kiss was messy and possessive, and Miyadate hummed into it happily, arms wrapping tight around Watanabe’s neck as soon as he was close enough. “Mmmm.”

Watanabe barely had to work a hand between them to line himself up with Miyadate’s entrance, Miyadate already tilting his hips up at the right angle. It took Watanabe’s breath away for a second or two how easily they fit together when Miyadate’s body was slick and aching for him, compared with how much coaxing and soothing he usually needed. Miyadate curled his legs around the backs of Watanabe’s thighs, sighing in relief, hips already flexing up against Watanabe in an obvious plea for him to move. He was shaking under Watanabe’s hands, trembling all over, and Watanabe hummed reassurance as he started fucking Miyadate slowly, pulling out and pressing back inside in a steady, easy to follow rhythm.

“All right?” Watanabe asked, because even for a heat this seemed unusual. “Just want more reassurance than usual? It’s not that I mind. Something different you need?”

“Just want you really close,” Miyadate mumbled. He was scenting Watanabe again, nose pressed flat against Watanabe’s neck, in a way he usually only did when they’d been separated for a few days, or when Miyadate was feeling entirely out of sorts.

“Guess you’re still all a mess from Island,” Watanabe theorized. It had been hard on their whole group, between injuries and the endless run, the lack of off days, and too many exhausted people jammed in the same small spaces, everyone’s patience and tempers fraying. Watanabe fucked Miyadate a little harder, a little deeper, reassuring him that everything was fine now. “It’s over now, I’m right here. You did so well, timing your heat so we didn’t miss any work, so just leave it to me. You’re perfect.” They’d barely made it, stringing mild suppressants out as cycle regulators over the two months of shows, but they had made it in the end, so it was possible Miyadate’s hormones were just evening out.

“Shota, Shota,” Miyadate repeated his name. He was getting close, Watanabe could smell it on him, tense and trembling all over, fingers digging hard into Watanabe’s shoulders.

“Almost there,” Watanabe reassured, his own breath catching in his lungs as he fucked Miyadate into the mattress. With each thrust he drew closer to knotting, catching on the sensitive edge of Miyadate’s rim, making him whine desperately. “So close. Ready for me?”

“Yes yes yes,” Miyadate chanted, his whole body coming up into it now, as much as that was possible with him clinging so tightly.

“Touch yourself, hurry,” Watanabe encouraged. Miyadate probably wouldn’t even need to, but Watanabe wasn’t taking any chances with this first round, wanting it to go perfectly so Miyadate’s body would relax into the rest of it. He felt when Miyadate got his hand around his cock, both the brush of Miyadate’s knuckles against his own stomach, but also the way Miyadate tightened up, his body’s grip around Watanabe clenching so tightly around him.

That was all it took, that plus the sweet, broken noise Miyadate made as he spilled hot between their stomachs. Watanabe was only a second behind him, the stretch and burn of knotting out of heat nothing compared to the white-hot euphoria of shared orgasm. Watanabe felt like every cell in his body was tingling as he drew in the next long breath after holding his too long; Miyadate seemed to be vibrating against him at exactly the same wavelength.

“Whoa,” Watanabe mumbled, dazed, rubbing his cheek against Miyadate’s neck, encouraging more of Miyadate’s burnt-caramel, satisfied scent. Momentarily satisfied, anyway. “First one’s always soooo good, huh.”

It wasn’t really a question and Miyadate didn’t answer it, still shivering himself out from aftershocks. He was squirming a little, involuntary flutters as his body made sure Watanabe’s knot was holding them firmly together, but it was nothing to worry about since Watanabe knew they were solid, the rush of endorphins and affection when it was done right familiar. He knew it was mostly biology that made it feel so good, both of their brains flooding them with the good stuff to making mating and knotting and bonding addictive, but that didn’t make it less worthwhile. Even if they’d done it hundreds of times already, which they probably had, Watanabe still felt like it was amazing he could gather Miyadate up in his arms and hug the rest of his tension out while they were knotted together.

Watanabe rolled them over, so he was on his back and not crushing Miyadate’s legs or arms, settling Miyadate’s weight on his chest. He stroked Miyadate’s sweat-soaked hair back from his face with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles across Miyadate’s back. A tingling warmth was building at the base of Watanabe’s spine, as if he had a hot-cold muscle patch on it, the telltale sign of his own heat starting, but it would take until probably that night to work up to the same pitch as Miyadate’s. Watanabe had no trouble ignoring it for now, far more interested in the relaxed slump of Miyadate’s shoulders and the rise and fall of his breath.

“Feel better?” Watanabe asked, tugging on Miyadate’s hair a little.

“Guess so.” Miyadate yawned, and if he didn’t stop being so cute there was some danger of them going again before Watanabe’s first knot even went down. “Sorry this heat seems weird.”

“They’re all weird, but you’re perfect,” Watanabe assured. Miyadate hummed low in his throat, almost a purr, Watanabe’s praise relaxing him just that much more bonelessly against Watanabe’s chest. His face was still pressed against Watanabe’s scent gland on one side, fingers brushing the same spot on the opposite side of Watanabe’s neck, making everything smell like the two of them. “There’s nothing to worry about at all. I’ve got you. You’re all mine.”