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Pedri’s scent arrives before he does.
It always has, at least to Jude. The sweet aroma seeps into the air stealthily, almost imperceptible at first until it explodes, taking over everything and smelling so sharp it stings the nose when inhaled.
Jude never minded, though for a long time he pretended he did. Their rivalry, which wasn't even that old, demanded that falsehood for the press, for teammates, for fans… Now it doesn't matter anymore, anyway; he no longer needs to fake wrinkling his nose when the aroma hits him, when he stands close to Pedri during a match, when their hands touch as they greet each other during Spain's national anthem. Instead, he seeks it out, sniffing, inhaling deeply to keep the scent to himself a little longer, letting it penetrate his nose and senses. He could have felt sick or nauseous; the sweetness can be too much for someone, but not for him. He sees, or rather smells, past it; to him, Pedri reveals a scent with a citrusy, summery, and fresh undertone, coming from the origins of his home island. He smells like a cool sea breeze or a fruit tree, a vivid fragrance that moves and mutates without ever becoming tiring to experience.
The sweet notes come on top, yes, he agrees—the first sniff carries a rush of sugar, a velvetiness that clogs the nose and the heart, traps everyone and is capable of making you obsessed, he can tell from personal experience. Then they mix, the sweetness dissipates a bit, and what remains is the fruity essence, the honey of exotic and colorful flavors, the citrus of sunscreen that reminds him of the beach, of summer. These are the ones that linger in Jude’s head, that resonate in his mind and inside his chest, missing it when he isn't close and wanting to drown when he has the chance to catch it straight from the source.
Pedri has a sweet scent to everyone, except to Jude, because he knows him better, he sees past it.
It’s because he knows him so well that it only takes the aroma smelling a tiny bit outside the white door for Jude to force the doorknob, trying to get in. The first attempt is just a warning that he’s there; he hears the sound of the couch cushions shifting and soon the sound of the latch retracting, the door being unlocked. He doesn't get the chance to try turning the knob again before it twists on its own and opens.
Pedri has a pout on his lips when Jude can see him fully, still in the clothes they put him in for the commercial shoot, still wearing the light makeup that manages to make him look unbelievably handsome; his posture isn't the same, though—he is crestfallen, staring at him, seeming to expect Jude to do something to cheer him up, wishing he didn't even have to verbalize why he seems so upset.
He walks in slowly, closing and locking the door behind him, cautiously placing his hands on his waist, turning Pedri slowly and calmly until he is pressed against the door. He arches, rolls his shoulders back, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then stares at Jude, still seeming to expect him to do something.
“Are you okay?”
Pedri closes his eyes, stretching his neck like a tic before responding, opening his eyes slowly. “The lights, the cameras, the people touching me… sometimes everything just gets to be too much.” He stares at Jude now, biting his lip and certainly seeing the worry grow on his face. He begins to stroke the arm holding his waist, seeking to calm him down. “But it’s fine, I’m already better.”
The worried look doesn't change; the fingers that begin to massage his hip bone make that very clear. Pedri lets his scent exude a little more, knowing it’s capable of calming the alpha down a bit more; his aroma is almost like a spell to Jude, although he still hasn't quite understood why; either way, that doesn't stop him from taking advantage of it a little.
“It passed, I’m fine now.” He speaks more firmly, hoping Jude understands; when he breathes and feels the air grow heavier, Pedri can almost hear the leap his heart takes, his pupils dilating a bit, his eyes darkening. “I got distracted watching you pose. I hope the photos come out soon.”
It works; Jude smiles, looking away and shaking his head in denial and embarrassment. “I could say the same thing.”
His gaze snaps back when Pedri slides the hand that was massaging his forearm even lower, now passing over his abdomen on top of his shirt, stopping at the hem of the garment to pull Jude closer to himself.
“They did your makeup well.” He narrows his eyes as he speaks, malice coating his tone and making Pedri shy.
“I could say the same thing.”
Dissipating the tension in the air is easy, the comfort of intimacy hitting them once more, the inside jokes breaking the heavy mood just as they’ve done so many times before.
“Yeah, but they put more blush on you,” Jude pokes his cheek with the tip of his finger, proving his point. “Or it was already there, I don't know.”
Pedri tells him to shut up while smiling and pulling him closer, leaving a chaste kiss on his mouth, then another before Jude deepens it even further, grumbling against his mouth. Unconsciously, Jude’s hand moves up, goes to the nape of his neck, and squeezes while shoving his tongue into Pedri’s mouth; his fingers grip the sides of his neck putting little pressure, but the moan the omega lets out is high-pitched, painful enough for him to pull away, worried.
“What's wrong?”
Pedri doesn't answer him; he grabs the hand that is resting beside his neck without touching it, holds it with his fingers, and brings it to his mouth, placing a little kiss on the palm. “It’s sensitive, that’s all.”
Even with the shrug, Jude furrows his eyebrows, leaning in to look closer at the mark—his teeth sunk into the tanned neck, less faded than usual, a bit red and irritated. This used to be his playground, a place to poke, squeeze, and kiss as much as he wanted without shame despite being in public, and without any complaint from Pedri, who loved the contact on his sensitive gland, liked the feeling of being touched where he was possessed, where Jude had claimed him. But everything changed when he got pregnant; now the alpha can barely get close without Pedri flushing, squirming, and asking him to stop, saying it’s sensitive, that the touch is uncomfortable. Every time Jude tries to look deeper into it, pressing him to go to the doctor to check it out or trying to comfort him with gentler caresses, he refuses, changes the subject, and tries to distract Jude, although he has never let it drop completely.
Without understanding why and already fed up, he presses once more—lightly, without squeezing too hard. The reaction is the same as all the others: Pedri lets out a grumble and pulls away, pinning his head to his shoulder to block Jude's view.
“Jude!”
He doesn't answer, gives him no time to complain, joining their mouths in another quick kiss that distracts Pedri enough for him to work his way down his neck, kissing lightly until he reaches the mark, where he wraps his lips around it and sucks, just as he had done so many times before, but for some reason, this time it’s different.
On his tongue, nothing comes but the taste of the gland's fluid, similar to Pedri’s slick, but less sweet, less lustful and obscene. Surprisingly, this is the exact scent that begins to take over the room, which can only mean the omega is leaking through his folds. Um… what?
He gasps once more, pushing against Jude’s chest and whimpering in pain. “Fuck— it hurts— Jude… alpha—”
And just like that. Just that is enough for him to understand what’s happening, Pedri too, from the way his eyes widen and his cheeks turn red with shame.
“No—”
He can’t finish the sentence, which is cut off by an exasperated gasp because Jude’s mouth went right back to his gland, sucking and licking. Fucking unhinged. All of this is fucking unhinged.
No fucking way he was referring to this when he said the mark was sensitive.
Small hands swat at Jude’s shoulder, begging him to pull away while all that comes out of Pedri’s mouth are broken moans and whimpers, still denying it, still resisting.
Jude looks him in the eyes as he begins to stroke the mark with his thumb, circling over all the teeth marks fast, just as he would—and as he already had a million times—with the omega’s clit. Except this isn't his cunt, it’s not his clit, but it behaves perfectly like one when all Pedri can do is babble for him to stop as if Jude couldn't see the fluid the gland squeezes out, as if he couldn't smell the sweet arousal drowning the whole room.
“Weeks pushing me away, saying it hurt… Why were you hiding this from me, love?” He tries to hide his tone of surprise and disbelief, just wanting to see how far Pedri will keep denying that the finger circling Jude’s teeth marks on his neck feels just as good as real sex would. “My God, look at how it’s begging for me.” He pulls away his now wet and sticky fingers and puts them in Pedri’s line of sight; they are glossy with the mark's lubrication and make the omega flush even deeper with shame, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid looking at Jude.
“You can almost imagine they came from somewhere else, can't you?” He presses his knee against Pedri’s crotch; he jumps and snaps his legs shut, trying to trap Jude between them, which is useless since Jude steps back and dodges the touch.
“Alpha— What?” Pedri asks confused, knitting his brows while Jude just stares at him, with that dark, lustful expression he knows so well. A warning that Jude is up to something, the kind of warning that sends a shiver down his spine, making it clear that something is coming. “What?”
“This is enough to make you come, isn't it?”
Pedri’s expression contorts in terror; he’s already prepared to answer before Jude’s hand returns to the mark, rubbing all four fingers roughly against it, making a total mess with the fluid that continues to leak. It must hurt, truly, he believes that, but years by Pedri’s side have already proven to him that pain, when it’s pleasurable like this, isn't a bother. This is only confirmed when a moan too loud and too long leaves his mouth, forcing Jude to cover it with his other hand, suddenly remembering they are still in a public place, surrounded by people. He thrashes, shakes his head from side to side, eyes wide, small murmurs muffled by Jude’s large hand covering half of his face.
Maybe he really can’t come from this, but Jude has plenty of time to test that theory, whether here or in the comfort of home. At the same time that it might hurt, it must feel amazing as hell; it’s so wet that it’s enough so that it isn't a rough rub, a dry friction, but rather pleasant and exciting as hell, almost making the same characteristic wet sound of a cunt; Jude thinks that if Pedri can’t come from this, maybe he can.
Hypnotized by the sight, urged to rub harder when Pedri’s legs open and kick uselessly at the air, shifting his body weight every two seconds as if he couldn't contain himself, impossible to stay still. He moans and grumbles even with his mouth covered; thus, his eyes gain even more life; his eyelashes tremble and begin to tear up when Jude applies more pressure, or when he tilts his finger a little so his nail grazes the teeth mark, scratching lightly. And that seems to be the last straw.
Pedri’s hands go flat against the door behind him, giving up on trying to push Jude away and finally yielding, going limp; his eyes are fixed on Jude’s face, looking up impossibly wide and full of tears threatening to fall. The hand on his mouth doesn't seem to muffle the moans and squeals he lets out at all, increasingly high-pitched and desperate; Jude almost has an orgasm seeing his hips go back and forth, grinding against the air even though there isn't the slightest touch to his cunt.
“Holy fuck, you are completely unhinged, love.” Pedri breathes hard and heavy through his nose, continuing to roll his hips at Jude’s words. “I should put you in a cage and show you off to everyone. My beautiful omega, mine alone.”
His large eyes roll back at the words, hiding behind his eyelids at the same time he stretches his neck, offering himself up.
Jude’s mouth returns as he bites once more, tugging the skin a bit as he pulls away and running his tongue forcefully over all the teeth marks sunk in there; the small hands squeezing his shoulder hurt and he needs to pull back, anchoring his hand on Pedri’s shoulder to manage to circle his thumb over the bite with force.
“Come like this, baby, I know you can, come on.” The squeals get louder, short and interrupted while Pedri’s eyes widen more and his hips move uncontrollably forward. “So good, baby. Come on.”
The noises cease when he comes, his hips arching and his back practically peeling off the door, his eyes squeezed tight and a grimace plastered on his face from the shame and the wet sensation beginning to take over.
Ah, that’s another thing.
Pregnant, every time Pedri comes, he squirts—without exception, every single time. The baby must be pressing on his bladder, that’s what the doctor said when the omega mentioned it during a checkup, his face just as red with shame as it is right now; he reassured him, said it was normal and posed no complication or risk. So, they—or rather, Jude is taking full advantage of it.
He looks down, mouth open to see the dark stain form, soaking all of the light shorts Pedri was wearing. The scent comes with it, flooding the entire room, lustful and obscene, giving away everything they did there.
Both of his hands are messy and drooly, sticky—one with the secretion from the glands and the other with the spit from Pedri’s mouth. And that doesn't matter at all when he grabs Pedri’s cheeks to kiss him, wanting to discharge at least a little of the arousal he feels. It lasts no time at all, he can’t, his chest is pushed away the exact instant their mouths join.
“Are you crazy?”
“What?”
Pedri looks down, exasperated with wide eyes, all the haze of the orgasm vanishing as he realizes what just happened.
“Shit. Look what you did.” His eyes alternate between his wet shorts and Jude, who just shakes his head, not understanding the gravity the omega sees.
“It’s no big deal, they must have a change of clothes,” he says, but goes quiet under Pedri, who glares at him with anger.
“You’re lucky I’m pregnant and can get an excuse for this,” Pedri says and tries to push him to get him out of the way, anxious to leave. “Let me through.”
Jude doesn't know if he’s being serious or just playing with him, but Pedri is very good at pretending to ignore the front of Jude’s crotch which is bulky with his obvious erection.
“Huh… Yeah, I’ll let you go after you handle this right here.” He points to his hard cock, following the way Pedri’s gaze drops and then snaps back to his face; somehow, he seems even angrier.
His eyebrows arch in irony, his mouth grumbling as he speaks: “I think you can handle that yourself.”
“What?” Jude says exasperated, making no effort to hide his shock.
“This is your fault.”
“Yeah, because it was hot as fuck.” Pedri’s cheeks turn red again and Jude feels a little victorious. He gathers the courage to step closer, burying his fingers into his waist and pressing Pedri back against the door, ignoring his look of clear irritation. “You looked hot as fuck.”
Hands place over his own and, before he can realize it, nails dig between his fingers, making him back off in pain. “Yeah? Then you have plenty of material to handle it yourself.”
“Love, you can't be serious,” he tries to plead. To which Pedri responds only by stepping away from the door and twisting the knob, reminding Jude that this is his dressing room.
“Go. At home maybe I’ll think about handling things with you.”
And Jude knows him so well, knows with absolute certainty how stubborn Pedri is and that he won't change his mind. All that’s left for him is to give him a quick peck, whispering softly, “you’re gonna pay for this,” to which Pedri responds with a loud, ironic humph.
He leaves the dressing room looking side to side, wondering what the fastest way to his own would be without running any risk of someone finding him with both hands in front of his crotch, trying to cover his blatant erection.
𖧧
Pedri grumbles and grimaces as he feels a drop leaking through his folds. It’s unfair that he has to stay home while Jude trains, missing him, curled up in a nest that feels insufficient because he wanted to be curled up against the large, warm body of his alpha. The sheets and shirts are losing his scent little by little, becoming too faint to bring any relief that might lessen the longing he feels; how he wished Jude were here with him, and not training, sweaty, surrounded by alphas and betas and other omegas.
Just the thought sends a wave of dizziness through his body and a low growl escapes his throat. His alpha surrounded by other sweaty omegas, who need to touch him because of that ridiculous sport that is football, which demands physical contact and allows other omegas to be near his alpha. Pedri is going crazy just thinking about it. He turns onto his stomach in the nest, searching for something of Jude’s to bury his nose in and try his hardest to extract his scent.
The worst part is that the whole world seems to be thirsting after Jude; he opens TikTok and there are edits of Jude—which are always eye candy until he realizes they are other people thirsting after his alpha; he opens his messages and there’s Lamine sending him screenshots of people on Twitter saying something obscene about Jude, always followed by a message saying, "Do you think of him like that too?" and Pedri always replies ‘yes’ just to annoy him, knowing the next message will be some curse word followed by an expression of disgust.
He is grateful to have all that to himself, his hot alpha and entirely his, no one else's. Above that, Pedri hates that Jude is like this, hates knowing that other people desire him as much as he desires him, want him and salivate over him just like Pedri does. Jude is too attractive and that’s the biggest reason for his stress, especially during the pregnancy when all his feelings are dialed to the maximum; jealousy is one of them too. And the funny thing is that Pedri feels angry at him; not at the people who are just noticing the obvious and making comments about it, but at Jude, who despite all that continues to have that face and that body.
And all of this just reminds Pedri how much he misses him, and how much he’d like to be with him 24 hours a day, get under his skin and follow him everywhere.
He feels like he’s going to lose his mind. This is the pregnancy's fault, this is the fault of his mark throbbing on his neck begging for his alpha's touch. This is Jude’s fault.
Why does he have to be so hot, with thighs immensely thick, and a sculpted abdomen, and huge arms, and his beautiful face, his skin glowing and brown in the perfect shade that makes Pedri want to completely melt in his arms. Jude is still perfect, he is kind, romantic, a good person who takes very good care of him and will certainly be a great father to the son Pedri is carrying because once Jude gave him a strong, full knot that only a strong, hot alpha like him could give, which left him pregnant, and now they are going to form a beautiful, happy family.
Pedri is almost crying now, whimpering against the sheets surrounding him because none of them is his alpha wrapping him in a tight, strong hug.
He is going to kill Jude when he gets home.
And feeling like he needs to start this now or he’ll go crazy, he fumbles blindly on the nightstand beside the bed to grab his phone and send Jude a text.
I miss you
I'm gonna die
I want you here
Jude replies immediately and Pedri feels happy, knowing he must be tormenting him a little bit too. A suspicion that is confirmed.
I know, love
Every time I leave you say that
I can feel it through the mark
Yes, he can feel it through the mark because they are a marked omega and alpha, because Jude loves him and bit his neck because Pedri is the only one he wants for the rest of his life.
Before he can send another text begging, Jude beats him to it.
I'm leaving early
Why?
Rut
Pedri feels his cunt fill with fluid. Fuck. Jude is in rut, he could have known that if either of them remembered to update the calendar stuck to the fridge; either way, it’s even sweeter to be caught by surprise like this.
He no longer has heats, so the only time they get to have sex like crazy is during Jude’s rut, which he has been anxiously anticipating for months. Just the thought arouses him even more; finally, he won't be the only one going crazy in this house, Jude will be affected too, in a very clouded mental state and thirsty for sex, thirsty for Pedri.
Fuck. He is so anxious.
He thinks of a desperate Jude, calling for him and taking care of him, of his omega — heats and ruts became insane after they claimed each other, it’s no wonder Pedri got pregnant. God, he would get pregnant by Jude all over again if he could.
If it didn't imply staying away from football, yes, he would have a whole litter with Jude—which makes him grimace; he never liked those terms to refer to his child, doesn't even let Jude call him a pup, makes him feel like an animal. On the other hand, he thinks it makes sense; the feeling he feels right now is primitive, beyond the rational, Jude awakens that in him.
Jude must have sent the text when he was already on his way, because in no time Pedri smells it; his woody, strong scent clogs his nose and, by this point, his underwear is already completely ruined. He walks into the bedroom appearing far too calm, still under control, and Pedri wants him to lose it all, to go crazy for him.
"Are you okay?"
"I was until I got here, but your scent is driving me crazy, love." Jude approaches, each piece of clothing left in the middle of the room and, by the time he reaches the bed, he is down to just his boxers; Pedri sees his bulge outlined, his cock erect and anxious because of him. "Fuck. It’s starting."
Jude rests a hand on the bed, but quickly retracts it because of the look Pedri gives him. Well, he is well-trained.
"Ask." Pedri commands, watching Jude lick his lips, restless.
He barely hesitates. "Can I come in?" He doesn't answer immediately, knowing Jude won't dare step into his nest without permission; above that being biological, part of it also comes from him, from his rational side not to disobey Pedri. "Please, love—baby. Can I come in?"
Pedri opens his legs, letting him know he isn't wearing any clothes besides the baggy sweatshirt and his already soaked underwear. He watches Jude’s eyes flash, and by his scent, he is already totally consumed by the rut. "Come."
Jude tackles him, barely letting him finish the sentence, and goes straight for his neck, sinking his teeth into his mark, and Pedri groans loudly, burying his nose in his neck and finally feeling the relief he spent the whole afternoon looking for. Jude moves fast, going to another spot and biting hard; his spit, his mouth, his scent, everything anesthetizes Pedri and drives him to a state of madness. He bites back on the dark neck to steady himself a bit, feeling satisfaction in knowing that no matter how many people desire Jude and dream about him, only Pedri can have him like this, only Pedri has the right to sink his teeth into his skin and call him his.
Pedri doesn't even feel it when his underwear is pulled off and Jude shoves two fingers in for half a second before pulling out; he brings them to his mouth, groaning as he sucks them and tastes it. "I can't believe you’re mine."
He moans, already feeling dominated by Jude, the way his entire scent takes over the room and suffocates him, his presence and his touch making his whole body burn and tremble with horniness. He goes with trembling fingers to take off Jude’s boxers and drools at the sight of his thick, swollen cock. Without realizing, Jude is still leaning into his ear and catches him off guard when he whispers softly: "Present for me."
The husky alpha voice reaches his eardrum and makes his head throb with desire; his cunt follows the same path and gets even wetter. Not even on a normal day would he deny the order, and spoken with the alpha voice when Pedri is already sufficiently driven crazy, it takes him less than a second to flip onto his stomach and arch his back, trying his hardest to look good for Jude.
He is opened up less than a minute later, toes curling at the feeling of finally being full, with his entrance sealed and filled. His eyes fill with tears and he almost comes from just that, lasting no time at all once Jude starts a desperate rhythm. His cunt gushes when he comes, soaking the sheets and making Jude groan loudly in his ear, also completely dominated, surrendered to his instincts.
Jude lets out a growl and begins to bite his entire body, breaking the skin on his shoulders and back while his fingers grip his thigh possessively, bruising the shape deep into his skin. "My beautiful omega. Perfect. I fucking love you. Shit."
"Yes— Alpha. Jude... Please." Pedri feels like he can't take any more, sensitive after the orgasm and completely submissive to the way Jude imposes himself over his whole body, his nest, and his head. He sobs softly against the pillows, feeling the thrusts grow more erratic until Jude comes, pouring semen inside him, and unfortunately, his knot expanding only to clamp onto nothing because the space inside is already occupied.
Jude seems to notice this and doesn't stop thrusting erratically, desperate in a bad way. Pedri tries to turn and push him, ending up lying on his stomach on his side, having to twist his whole neck to see Jude. When he looks at him, his eyes are glazed on the spot connecting them, brows furrowed and an expression of complete confusion on his face.
He notices he’s being watched and it’s almost as if he can’t look at Pedri’s face; he breathes heavily as he strains to try and continue to fuck him. "I don't know what happened. The knot—I don't know, I’m sorry."
What the fuck is happening?
Pedri is confused for a second before realizing that Jude didn't notice he’s pregnant; he’s surprised because he can't believe his rut takes him to that level of hallucination.
He lets out a laugh, stopping immediately upon seeing how Jude freezes, looking at him hurt and almost ashamed. He feels bad and reaches out his arm to pull his face close to his, seeking to comfort him.
"I can't—The knot won't—... Sorry, I’ll make it up to you. I swear, I swear." Jude continues to speak, his face red and sweaty, his voice cracking. Despite the comical nature of the situation, any humor inside Pedri dies.
"Hey. Hey, look at me." Jude seems unable to look him in the eyes; he squeezes his chin more firmly, forcing him to hold his gaze. "It’s okay. The knot won't stay because I’m pregnant."
It feels like he’s talking to a child, carefully explaining the words so his stupid brain can process them. Jude’s face contorts even more with confusion. "What?"
Pedri sighs, takes his hand and guides it under the sweatshirt while pulling up the fabric, showing the belly that was hidden. "I’m pregnant with your child, Jude."
He stares at him for a moment and Pedri can almost see the gears turning inside his head; smoke might as well be coming out of his ears. Finally, it seems to hit him, he realizes, and now an expression of immense shame takes over. "Fuck."
He sighs and buries his face in the pillow beside Pedri, who allows himself to truly laugh now. Giggling at the whole situation while Jude’s hand makes circles on his belly, embarrassed and trying to hide his own smile in the pillow.
Jude pinches his skin lightly. "Don't laugh, I was confused."
Pedri’s cheeks hurt as his smile widens, covering Jude's hand with his own so he’ll stop pinching him. "You were scared of disappointing me. How cute."
"Stop..." Jude seems to want to sink into the pillow, but Pedri stops him, shifting to lie properly beside him and pull him close, hugging him and showering his face with kisses, still fighting the smile. Jude yields little by little, relaxing in his embrace and wrapping his arms around him too.
"It’s so insane that you’re pregnant that I forget. It feels like I’m living a dream." Pedri can hear the vibration of his voice because his head is pressed against his neck, rubbing and scent-marking him, blending their aromas together.
"Don't start with the sweet things if in a little bit you’ll be pinning me against the sheets like an animal."
Jude laughs above him, grinding his hips playfully with his cock still inside Pedri, which earns him a slap to the chest. "That’s the best part. I fuck you, then I take care of you, all over again, and at the end of the day you’re still carrying my child."
"But only until you forget that detail again."
A hand digs into the side of his waist, making him squirm and laugh some more. "Forget about that."
"Never."
𖧧
Jude has decided: he is eternally grateful for the life he has. Eternally grateful to be able to come home after training and find a scene like this.
The lamp's light is low, just enough to show the figure lying in bed, sleeping peacefully. The illumination from the bathroom, with the door open and light on, allows him to outline all of Pedri’s features without having to squint. The curve of his elbow with the bend of his outstretched arm, the sheets bunched up at his calf due to all the kicking and shifting positions, the messy hair splayed against the pillows, and, of course, the worn, old shirt that rode up, dragged upwards enough to show his belly—already pretty big, swollen enough to make it clear that someone is in there, growing and developing.
Pedri shivers a little, has a twitch that makes the blankets rustle, his legs opening wider as he becomes more and more uncovered, revealing the short pajama shorts he was wearing, his smooth and glossy thighs exposed, his tan shimmering due to the yellow light illuminating the bedroom a bit. He is still wrapped in sleep, likely a deep one, the kind he’s been having throughout the entire pregnancy, always tired and exhausted. His chest rises and falls slowly; small breaths and sighs are the only noise in the room before Jude sneaks over to the bed and climbs onto it with his knee, causing a creak to resound.
His lips stretch into a smile when Pedri doesn't wake up, completely oblivious that Jude has already returned from training. He is no longer sweaty, already in comfortable clothes that don't stop him at all from throwing himself onto the bed and sleeping wrapped around his omega. He props an arm beside his head and leans down to find the tanned neck, leaving a light kiss on the mark, right on the glands that seem to want to trap him, exhaling a strong scent as soon as he gets close. They want him there, want to pull him in to drown in the sweet, fruity aroma, as if his nose belonged there and only there for all eternity. Well, he would gladly accept that.
He buries himself a bit deeper, inhaling once more and letting the scent invade taking over his body. It has been stronger since Pedri got pregnant, different, in a good way; somehow, it seems like it’s being able to drive Jude even crazier, as if he hadn't done that enough before. The pheromones… those changed completely, they always change; they started out as those of a single, coveted omega, but with no strings attached, changed to those of someone taken once Jude established his place and their relationship, and now they smell like pregnancy; it’s a funny description, he thinks, smiling to himself once more at his own joke.
For the alpha, there is an aroma of a job well done: Pedri is carrying his child, mission accomplished. It makes his chest puff out with pride and arrogance; he did it, everyone else who tried can ‘suck it’; it’s a wicked territorial instinct, which he is trying to suppress, but he can’t, it’s stronger than him. Going back to the scent, the fruitiness decreased a bit — again, there is no rush at all to induce a mating, to attract alphas, he already has his. Which led to the citrus increasing, becoming more evident and overlapping the sweetness just a little bit; something dense takes its place, heavier, mutating into a warm vapor rather than a breeze. There is also, of course, the almond-like one… that’s his favorite part.
He takes his head off the neck calmly, pulling away to see, to look once more, never getting tired.
The almond-like scent… it comes from the milk, of which Pedri’s breasts are full, starting to produce little by little as the pregnancy progresses. They are noticeable over his shirt now, swollen, with very erect nipples, outlined and defined in a beautiful way that lately has been driving Jude crazy, unable to restrain his shameless gaze, leaving Pedri so shy that, as a punishment, he starts wearing more shirts when they are at home. As if that would stop him from staring.
Well, there’s no way he can even try to stop him now, right?
His fingertips are soft and light when he touches the fabric of the shirt to lift it, going up until he manages to tuck it into the crook of Pedri’s neck, who still sleeps peacefully. It’s an insane sight. With the body changes, Pedri started to have the habit of applying moisturizers and oils — a recommendation from the doctor, to prevent stretch marks and tearing, he said. Jude would help him, rubbing and massaging in the places he couldn't reach, or when he was just too tired, always grumbling and rolling his eyes at the compliments, at Jude’s pick-up lines saying he was going crazy, because that’s the truth: Pedri slathered in oil and smelling more lustfully than ever drives him crazy.
And now his body is exactly like that in front of him, with his entire torso shiny and soft on display, his legs smooth and also shiny, his face soft and relaxed, oblivious to the torment he causes in Jude’s head.
He can’t stop it.
One hand goes to the groin, pressing without moving and making him sigh with the contact on his already erect penis. Jude scored two goals in training today, contributed to the team, received compliments from the coach; he deserves this, he tells himself, he deserves it.
He lowers his pants just a bit, kneels better on the bed, sitting on his heels. His penis’s lubrication is so fast that he needs to restrain his movements so that the wet sound doesn't fill the whole room, doesn't wake Pedri up. No, the fun is having him like this: helpless.
The other hand goes sliding over his body, opening his legs so he can adjust himself between them, the so familiar sight — Pedri underneath him reminds him of the last time they had sex: Pedri has been so sensitive since the beginning of the pregnancy, reactive to the extreme even to the slightest touch, he has already came just from pinches on the nipple; Jude remembers the mark incident too, of course; it’s a shame that Pedri has never let him get close to repeating the act again, it will take a lot of convincing, he knows.
He shifts again on the bed and Jude suddenly thinks how ridiculous it is that Pedri doesn't need to do anything to him to get him aroused, it probably won't be necessary to do anything to make him come. Maybe he should change that, he ponders, running through a list in his mind of the delicious places he could use right now to satisfy himself and not come pathetically just with his own hand. Maybe his breasts, squeezing them until creating a perfect gap for his dick, but that would require too much effort, definitely waking Pedri up; his vagina was right there, covered only by a layer of clothing, since Pedri shouldn't be wearing panties. He considers the option a lot; a curious thumb goes to his pajama shorts, pulls slowly, putting it to the side, and yes, he was right, no panties in sight. He stares at the vulva, thinking how good it would be to bury himself there, but the option isn't even real; he ruled out his breasts for being something that would undoubtedly make him wake up, there’s no logic in considering actually fucking him.
He could fuck his thighs, he thinks as his hand sneaks to the side, letting go of the shorts and passing his thumb over the inner thigh, smooth and soft, shiny and hairless.
Hairless, because Pedri likes it that way, likes the slipperiness, the delicateness.
Pedri’s legs have no hair, they are warm and delirious, but that would imply too much movement, he’d have to hold him in a position that would require stretching, he can already hear the complaints that will come.
He’ll have to content himself with his own hand, he thinks, as he spits on it once more, resuming the movements.
Usually, Pedri liked Jude to do all the work when they were in bed, which wasn't a problem, especially now that he was pregnant; Jude loves it. He loves the way the omega writhes when they are fucking, how he cries and moans like a virgin all over again, complaining that everything is too much, too strong, too fast, too sensitive even if Jude is making minimal and cautious movements inside him. He writhes on the mattress, opening and closing his legs without seeming to be able to decide whether to surrender or dodge the immense pleasure Jude is giving him and, even so, always aroused, pinning Jude against the wall and demanding that he fuck him because he is pregnant and needs it. And he yielded every time, maybe because he liked to feel desired, maybe because he likes to make his omega feel good, or maybe for a less altruistic reason than that. Maybe he just likes to have a doll he could fuck however he wanted. Whenever he wanted, because Pedri always desired it as much as he did. Stimulated to the limit every time, crying intensely every time the penis is deep inside him, the walls squeezing him and receiving him like never before while the sight of Pedri shifting and blushing so much underneath him is capable of making Jude come in a ridiculous time.
Their fucks are getting shorter and shorter, because of both of them.
Their orgasms are getting stronger and stronger, because of… he doesn't know whose fault it is.
Pedri’s orgasm limit now is two, nothing more than that, sometimes not even that. The first one quick, strong, squirting everywhere while he screams and his toes curl. The second one, tense, devastating and dry, trembling from head to toe with his eyes squeezed shut so tight that Jude fears they will never open again. He can’t forget, though, the exception, when the shy whisper at breakfast told him that Pedri had had an orgasm while sleeping and almost made him spit out his tea. Without any stimulation, without having an erotic dream and claiming he hadn't gone to sleep aroused, and even so it happened, without him having any control over it.
Damn, Jude kept hallucinating about it for days. Demanding more details that Pedri couldn't give him, or maybe just didn't want to, watching him sleep in the expectation of it happening again.
The movements of his hand get faster and more frantic, squeezing the head of his penis with each rise and fall. This could very well happen right now, Jude imagines, tries to form the image in his head: how Pedri’s breathing would get more ragged, how he would start to whimper softly, tossing from side to side without understanding what is happening, his hips spasming trying to chase a stimulation that doesn't exist before everything explodes and a wet stain begins to grow on his shorts, darkening the fabric and the bedsheets.
Jude’s hand stops, squeezes the base of his penis to stop himself from coming.
He opens his eyes, which he hadn't even realized were closed, and stares hard at the soft, voluminous belly; no, he can’t come there.
He doesn't understand the reason for the prohibition, for the impediment he imposed on himself; he just can’t, he is unable to. The well-constituted rule in his head, carved so strongly that he can’t ignore it even if his penis pulses and he feels his testicles heavy with need, the knot fighting to form or at least discharge. He won't come on Pedri’s belly, no, his child is right there, for God's sake.
He gets up from the bed in a hurry, goes to the bathroom, lifts the toilet lid and there is barely time to thrust enough before everything explodes and he comes, groaning softly.
When he returns, Pedri’s face is turned, now in the direction of the bathroom; his still closed eyes don't fool him.
“Did anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to start things and not finish them?”
Jude laughs, walking to the bed. How long had Pedri been awake? “You can’t say I didn't finish.”
Pedri says nothing, doesn't open his eyes, just stretches his mouth a tiny bit into the shadow of a smile, turning his head to the side once more as Jude lies down next to him in bed, turning on his lamp.
“If you woke me up, I should at least have a reward. It’s rude to disrupt a pregnant person's sleep.” There is little sincerity in his words, spoken with a raspy, sleepy voice.
His eyes are still closed, so he misses the devilish smile Jude gives. His hand sneaks over, passing by the belly and going down until putting the loose shorts to the side, making a gust of air go straight to his vagina, watching his hips writhe a little bit from the shock. “Should I reward you?” He asks in a whisper.
“Nah…” Pedri grumbles, closes his legs, preventing Jude’s hand from reaching further. “I already did that while you were at training.”
Jude laughs, letting air out of his mouth, incredulous but not surprised; Pedri’s libido higher than ever, it’s nothing extraordinary that he’s masturbating, no; Jude certainly has no problem at all with Pedri giving himself pleasure while he is going through hell in training, absolutely no problem. “Really? We should go see the doctor, all this horniness isn't normal.”
“I already did that too, it’s just the hormones. I’m pregnant.”
“Isn't it something that has always been there and you’re just using the pregnancy as an excuse to let it out?”
“No. Hormones,” Pedri repeats once more, not at all bothered by Jude’s insinuation. He takes his hand that was resting on his thigh to place it over his belly, keeping Jude's warm palm there. “Which you were the one who put them here.”
Jude smiles again, unable not to melt.
Yes. Yes, he had done it.
“And I’m proud of it.” He leans down to give a kiss on the belly, coming back up and seeing that Pedri opened his eyes just to roll them. They are half-closed, staring at him with love and expectation, as if he wanted Jude to keep talking. “Just like I’m proud that it’s you.”
He gives a kiss on the omega’s forehead, watching his eyes close again and his body relax, snuggling closer to Jude.
“I’m proud that it’s you carrying our pup.” They had refused to use that word until then, with Pedri insisting it was too cheesy, but when it comes whispered out of Jude’s mouth, the omega does nothing but inhale deeply, his lips tugging so little that saying it was a smile is an exaggeration, even though Jude knows it was. “I’m proud of the family we’re going to form, I’m proud that it’s you by my side. I’m proud of you,” he finishes closing his own eyes while kissing Pedri’s cheeks, feeling them warm with embarrassment.
Everything is still very sleepy, especially for Jude, who feels his body increasingly relaxed and gradually surrendering to sleep. Pedri’s touch on him when the omega wraps his waist and pulls him closer, burying his face in his neck is almost ghostly, but nothing as firm and solid as the belly under his palm, keeping him in the present moment, anchoring him on solid ground. There is so much love in his chest that he thinks he might explode.
“I’m grateful every day to have you by my side. Thank you, Jude.” He breathes heavily on Jude’s glands, smelling his scent while squeezing him tighter by the waist. The alpha’s hands now rest on his back, massaging his lower back. “I don't know for how much longer we’ll still be able to cuddle like this, so please don't wake me up again.”
He laughs with more heart now, throwing his head back with the laughter. Yes, the belly will get in the way eventually, but they will figure it out, they always have.
“I can’t promise anything. The hormones might attack again.” His finger pokes Pedri’s ear, caressing between his thumb and index finger.
The omega huffs, his mouth already opening to complain before Jude quickly silences him by sticking his finger in his ear, causing a jolt from the shock that turns into a happy laugh from Pedri, quieted when Jude’s mouth is pressed against his.
When they pull away, Pedri has a shy expression as he whispers. “My chest started leaking today, it’s full, Jude. It hurts.”
Even if in a wicked way, Pedri knows how much Jude was waiting for this moment, knows how much it drives him crazy and decides to confess now when they are about to sleep; it’s cruel.
“Fuck… Let me help you, I can relieve the pressure.” His hand goes up, finding the breast, already anticipating the touch there, the way his fingers would tighten around the muscle, but Pedri stops him, holding his wrist.
“What had to come out already came out. Leave it for tomorrow.” Jude whimpers, feeling defeated; he always underestimates how cruel Pedri can be. In response to the noise, the omega just laughs, closing his eyes and snuggling close to Jude. With his lips barely opening, he makes a provision. “Tomorrow we take a bath together and I’ll let you. You’ll see, don't worry.”
Although it calms him down, his body has already gotten excited with the revelation, anxious for the next day. “And how am I supposed to sleep after that promise?”
Pedri gives one last giggle, tired and low. “You’ll figure it out.”
In the end, Jude manages to. Falling asleep becomes easy with the warm body against his and the comfortable feeling of warmth it brings.
Yes, Jude is eternally grateful for his life.