My Mate Is My Roommate?

Chapter 7 - Mark of Possession

They didn't talk about the hand on the neck on the walk home. The night was cold, the campus empty except for the vending machines humming, their hands still linked because neither had let go after the mixer. Kaito's neck still tingled where Renji's thumb had pressed, a phantom heat. Every time Renji's cedar brushed him when the wind shifted, his pulse jumped and his scent puffed sweet before he could clamp it.

At the dorm door, Renji finally said, voice low, "I went too far. At the drinks table. I should have asked before I touched your neck like that."

"You did ask," Kaito said, looking at their joined hands, fingers laced, not letting go. "And I said don't stop. I meant it."

Renji unlocked the door, let Kaito in first, hand on his lower back. Inside, the new filter hummed louder than the old one, but the air was still thick with the leftover scent of Kaito's excitement from the mixer, sweet and embarrassed and unmistakably Omega, a scent that no blocker had fully hidden when Renji touched him.

"You were leaking," Renji said quietly, closing the door and locking it. He didn't turn on the big light, just the desk lamp, soft. "Your scent. When I touched your neck. Are you okay? Do you need water? Do you need - space?"

"I'm fine," Kaito said too fast, then corrected, honest. "I - no one has ever done that to me before. Touched me like that. Alphas don't usually - at my old school, they just grabbed. You asked. You -"

He stopped, eyes on the floor, trembling a little from the cold and the adrenaline and the way his body still hadn't come down.

Renji stepped closer, careful, giving Kaito time to pull away. He reached out slowly and cupped the back of his neck again, this time skin to skin, pushing the wide collar aside, no sweater in between. His palm was warm. Kaito gasped, his eyes fluttering, his whole body swaying into the touch without thinking, his hands coming up to clutch Renji's shirt.

"Look at me," Renji murmured, soft.

Kaito looked. Renji's face was close, his pupils blown wide in the dim light, his lips parted, his own scent warm and dark, not sharp now but sweetened with something that made Kaito's knees weak. He looked at Kaito's neck, at the pale, unmarked skin where his gland lay, vulnerable and sweet, pulsing visible.

"Can I?" Renji asked, voice rough, barely above a whisper. "Not a real mark. Not a bond. Just - a temporary one. A claim. So others will smell me on you and leave you alone after tonight. It will fade in three to four days if I do it right. It will help you at school. May I?"

A claiming bite, even temporary, was intimate. It was what boyfriends did, what Alphas did for Omegas they intended to keep. Fake boyfriends didn't. They had said no marking in the laundry room.

Kaito should say no. He knew that. He had set that rule to protect himself. But the heat of Renji's hand on his neck, the cedar in his lungs, the memory of being called "mine" in front of a room full of people and liking it, the way Renji was asking, not taking - it broke something he had held tight for a year.

"Okay," Kaito breathed, voice shaking. "Okay, do it. I want - please."

Renji guided him to sit on the edge of his bed, kneeling in front of him so their faces were level, so Kaito could push him away if he needed. He brushed Kaito's hair aside fully, exposing his neck completely, the gland pale and tender, and leaned in, breathing him in, nose brushing skin. Kaito whimpered, hands fisting Renji's black shirt, scent exploding peach and milk, sweet and helpless.

"Breathe," Renji whispered against his skin, his breath hot, and then he opened his mouth and pressed his teeth to the gland, not breaking skin, just pressure, suction, scent, a deep, claiming press that sent a shock through Kaito's whole body.

Kaito cried out, his back arching, his scent exploding so sweet the filter whirred louder, his hands clutching Renji's shoulders hard enough to leave crescent marks through the shirt. It didn't hurt. It was overwhelming, a rush of cedar and Alpha and mine blooming behind his eyes, his toes curling in his socks, a helpless, pleased noise he couldn't stop. Renji held him through it, one hand on his waist to keep him upright, mouth working gently, tongue soothing the press, until Kaito was shaking and making small, helpless, wet noises, his eyes wet.

When he finally pulled back, sucking lightly to set the scent, a faint red mark bloomed on Kaito's pale neck, oval with the faint imprint of teeth, and the scent of cedar clung to it heavily, mixed with peach. It was unmistakably a claim.

Kaito touched it with shaking fingers, eyes wet, chest heaving. "Is it - does it look - real?"

"It looks like you are mine," Renji said, voice hoarse, his mouth wet, his own face flushed. He didn't move away, still kneeling, forehead almost touching Kaito's, breathing hard. "Does it hurt? Did I press too hard?"

Kaito shook his head, breathless, overwhelmed, looking at Renji's mouth, swollen, and at his own mark in the small mirror on the desk, and whispered, "Do it again - no - I mean - is it okay that I liked it so much?"

Renji laughed, shaky, relieved, his own hands trembling. "Tomorrow. If you still want. Now you should sleep before your scent knocks us both out and we get a noise complaint."

That night Kaito slept on his back with his hand over the mark to keep it warm, and Renji lay awake on his own bed with his fist pressed to his mouth, smelling peach on his lips, knowing he was in trouble far deeper than fake, that he had wanted to bite harder, to make it last longer than three to four days.

In the morning the mark was darker, a soft bruised pink that the white sweater could not hide. Neither mentioned it at breakfast, but everyone in the cafeteria looked, and Sota choked on his miso soup.

After the mark, Kaito couldn't stop touching it, his fingers brushing the tender skin that now smelled strongly of Renji. He looked in the desk mirror and saw how it changed his face, made him look claimed, looked after. Renji watched him from his bed, his own neck feeling hot, his hands in fists. Are you sore? he asked. Kaito shook his head, his eyes bright, his scent sweet and a little dazed. No, he whispered, it feels warm. Like you are here even when you are not. Renji had to look away, his own gland throbbing in response, because he wanted to do it again, harder, to make it last a week not three to four days, and that was not a fake thought. He got up and opened the window, needing cold air.

Renji pressed a cool cloth to the mark to soothe it, his fingers careful. Does it still throb? he asked. Only when you look at it, Kaito whispered, and Renji had to laugh, embarrassed, and turn away to hide his own red ears.