Chapter Text
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In the magical world of Knight of Blood and Iron, humans had secondary genders. The world’s entire framework of cultural and sociological bearings was shifted around those identities of alpha, beta and omega.
Among the whirlwind of being reincarnated and taking over Lloyd Frontera’s body, one of his biggest learning curves was learning to be an alpha.
“What the fuck?” Lloyd asks, leaning forward. “What is that smell?”
Javier leans away from him with a disgruntled expression. “I know you have no sense of decorum, my lord, but please.”
“Why do you smell so good?” Lloyd demands.
Javier blinks, staring at him for a moment, before he visibly struggles to smother a smile. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“Hah?” Lloyd asks.
It’s hard to concentrate with his brain going foggy. The novel had described Javier’s scent, the way it filled a room with the swordsman’s overwhelming presence, fitting for an alpha of his caliber. Even so, experiencing it in the flesh was a whole different thing.
Javier emanated strength, a persistent rumbling like a thunderstorm encroaching on the horizon. It was dark and foreboding in the distance, but closer, light rays reflected through and gave way to a steadfast calmness. Every breath felt he was inhaling fresh morning dew, sharp and cold with the premonition of rain.
He has to quickly become accustomed to Javier’s scent, because he would be smothered by it otherwise. Javier was at his side constantly, his scent circulating around Lloyd’s head and leaving him dizzy.
Even worse than Javier’s scent was learning that Lloyd had a scent.
“Hah--?!” Lloyd stutters, reeling back. “You’re just full of yourself, asshole!”
Javier looks far too smug. “Your scent does not lie. You are happy to see me.”
His scent gave away every one of his emotions. Perhaps the real Lloyd Frontera had spent years learning to regulate his pheromones, or… knowing him, maybe he hadn’t. Regardless, Lloyd couldn’t seem to grasp that innate control everyone else seemed to have, to mask their emotions and keep their scents polite.
If he was annoyed, he could feel it radiating off himself in agitated waves, something that Javier would consistently scold him for. Once all the pieces of his scheme came together, people flinched back from how his pheromones flared viciously. When he was happy, he could feel his contentment floating around him like a cloud.
--He couldn’t help it that when he was around Javier, he was always happy.
“What you smell like?” Javier seems to ponder for a moment, then answers, “Booze.”
Lloyd’s eye twitches. Perhaps not always.
By the amused glance that Javier sends him, he can sense the displeasure rolling off Lloyd.
With a huff, Lloyd flops back onto his bed. In the corner of his eye, he sees Javier slip into the adjacent chair and settle in with his pillow, looking as immaculate as ever even after the long gruelling day they’d had.
Infuriatingly, Javier had excellent control of his scent, something that made Lloyd’s fluctuating moods even more apparent. Javier’s scent was something stable, that barely shifted with the wind as he traded insults back and forth with Lloyd, his pheromones as candid as the breeze against Lloyd’s haywire scent.
It felt like Lloyd was constantly two steps behind everyone else. Infuriatingly, even the messenger system was useless when it came to gender dynamics, watching Lloyd fumble through social etiquette silently, only sparing the rare insult at his expense.
“But it’s been different recently.”
“My scent?” Lloyd asks.
Nodding, Javier surveys over him and explains, “Perhaps since you stopped drinking, but even so… I didn’t think you smelled like this before…”
“Like what?” Lloyd asks, sitting up.
Javier seems to think very hard, before responding, “Mud. And rusty.”
“Because I’m in mud all day--!” Lloyd protests. “Come on, that can’t be my actual smell—”
“Then take a bath, or ask a different poor soul to burn their nose.”
“You ass--!” Lloyd rolls away and bundles up in his sheets, curiously sniffing at his pillow. All he smelled was the freshly laundered linens, but his sullenness was surely stinking up the place.
“… I almost didn’t recognize you when I found you in the field that day. You smelled like a stranger.”
“Well, I must have taken a bath that day,” Lloyd dismisses, shuffling. With the additional sense for pheromones, people were far too discerning in this world. It made it more difficult to ease suspicions about Lloyd Frontera’s changed behaviour.
“Perhaps,” Javier hums. He doesn’t seem convinced, but thankfully, he usually allows Lloyd to scamper away from these conversations. “… It is not a bad smell.”
Lloyd hates the way his heart jumps in his chest, the way it is surely showing in his scent.
“Of course, no scent is as good as mine.”
Lloyd whirls around to glare at him. “You are never going to let me live in peace.”
“I have been told I smell very good,” Javier continues. He’s leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, a faint smile curling up on his lips.
“I tell you that one time, while in an alcohol-induced haze at dawn, and you bring it up every day like it’s—” Lloyd catches himself, cursing internally.
Another fun quirk of this world. He and Javier were both alphas.
Young unrelated alphas were reportedly like oil and water, or perhaps more accurately, gasoline and a lighter.
With such an imposing presence, Javier’s mere proximity had a tendency to threaten unfamiliar alphas. His power was evident from a single whiff of his scent, and although it wasn’t intentional, it jabbed at the instincts, prickling that underlying desire to be the most dominant in one’s territory.
With Lloyd’s admitted hot-headedness and Javier’s tendency for poking the bear, they’d be arguing until the sun burned itself out of the sky.
It didn’t help that they were in Lloyd’s den.
It was a foreign thing, something that Lloyd still didn’t fully understand. There was interesting biological history to this world, something about the remnant alpha instinct to have a dark, cave-like area to guard resources and young.
Accordingly, there was a small tray slot at the door, something for servants to slide in meals and letters non-invasively. Only betas were hired as house-keeping staff, and they entered his chambers to clean with thick clothing, tightly covering their scent glands to prevent causing offense.
His bed had four pillars, with large sheer curtains of fabric that could be drawn to shield the inside with dim-lit walls. It felt like a bed fort, and the childish part of Lloyd did find it entertaining to dramatically open the curtains in the morning, making Javier jump awake.
“Rise and shine!” Lloyd shouts, and Javier will send him a disdainful glare, his eyes still bleary with sleep.
Apparently it was quite unusual for Javier, an unrelated alpha, to spend so much time here.
When he first came to this world, Javier would be posted outside his door each night. The first time Lloyd called Javier in, offering for the knight to take a seat instead of looming out there, he’d given Lloyd a confused look and declined. Lloyd didn’t realise it was something almost taboo until he’d curiously peaked his head into Javier’s room, bare and basic, and the alpha had shoved him back with a snarl before slamming the door in his face.
Territory was considered a biological need in this world, something that alphas would defend with vengeance.
With the development of their new routine, however—Lloyd using his “lullaby” to help him sleep—Javier now entered Lloyd’s den regularly.
The first time he came in, Javier did so cautiously, warily eyeing at Lloyd with every step as if prepared for Lloyd to go feral and tackle him where he stood. Lloyd didn’t understand the problem if he was honest. With Javier asleep at his bedside, he’d never been more at peace, that rain water scent seeping through the curtains of his bed and covering him like a blanket.
It never bothered him one bit, which is why he only raises an eyebrow at Javier as the knight lingers in the doorway.
“Something wrong?” Lloyd asks, stripping off his coat.
“Summer is approaching, my Lord.”
“… And?”
Javier sends him a look, as if he was the most patient person in the world. Lloyd didn’t appreciate the attitude.
“I can smell it on you. I am not eager to have my throat ripped out by a rut-mad alpha.”
Lloyd blinks. Ah. His rut was coming soon.
In this new body, he hadn’t had one yet, but he knew what to expect. Alphas and omegas had yearly ruts or heats in the summer. Hormones would rise with the temperatures and induce what was essentially, a mating season. With increased testosterone and instincts on a hair-trigger, alphas in proximity were quick to wrestle and tumble for the slightest offense.
Evolutionarily, it was the ideal time, when resources were plentiful and time could be spared for courtship. Pregnancies would gestate until the next year’s spring, preventing young from being born during harsh winters.
To Lloyd, it sounded like everyone got really damn horny and pissed off.
“What makes you think I’ll be the problem, huh?” He heckles, crowding into Javier’s space.
“You are not known to be pleasant during your ruts,” Javier grunts. “On the other hand, I have self-control.”
“Self-control--!” Lloyd laughs, claps him on the back, then at Javier’s tepid frown, forces his laughs to be even louder. “You’ve got the most obnoxious scent in the kingdom!”
Belatedly, he realises he’s been more physical with Javier this past week, more quick to lean in and try annoy the knight. Could Javier really smell the rut on him before he even noticed himself?
“That is beyond my control.”
“I thought you had great self-control—”
“That is not how it works, you—” Then Javier sucks in a breath and steps away from him. “Enough. I will reside in my chambers tonight.”
“You won’t be able to sleep, though,” Lloyd points out, stepping closer.
“I will manage,” Javier snaps.
Lloyd gasps, his hand flying over his mouth. “Oh dear, is our little alpha getting rut-mad—”
Javier sends him a scornful glare and leaves with a twist of his coat tail. Lloyd waves at him before shutting his door with a chuckle.
This alpha thing was easy.
Lloyd wakes up the next morning, and promptly eats his words.
“Fuck…” He grits his teeth. He’s sweaty, his chest heaving in the same exhausted way after working in the sun all day.
He kicks the sheets off him and shudders. There was blood rushing through his head, strong pressure that almost felt like his gums were bleeding, his teeth aching to the point that it hurt every time he clenched his jaw.
His scent glands are sore at the base of his neck, aching right in the divots where his collar bone meets his shoulders. Lloyd prods one with a finger and winces at how tender it feels.
He’s also painfully hard between his legs, his groin burning with heat.
Lloyd slips his hand down and cries out as he wraps around his aching length. It felt like he was on fire. He was expecting the rut would be like puberty, but this was so much more unbearable.
“Ah, hah--!” He pleasures himself as snarls escape his throat, pained and restless. The sensations drove him mad but didn’t feel enough. He feels like no matter how much friction and pressure he uses, his cock weeps between his legs, twitching with need. He thrusts into his hand and groans, the room spinning around him in hazy waves.
When he finally comes, it’s simultaneously the best and worst orgasm of his life. He climaxes with a pained shout, his length pulsing against his hand. It feels like he fainted somewhere in there, his vision blotting in and out like a dream. Lloyd drops to the bed with a gasp.
It’s still not enough. It feels like he didn’t even come, his length still burning.
Lloyd grabs himself again with a pained hiss, then freezes. He sits up hastily and looks down at himself, his eyes going wide.
That was--? What the hell was that?
The base of his cock looked engorged—red, angry and swollen.
Lloyd stares at it, slightly terrified. He pokes at the bulge and winces, drawing his hand back.
He waits five minutes. Then ten minutes, panic building in his chest. The pain is getting worse and the swelling isn’t going away.
His hands flutter around his groin as his heart pounds. After the first minute of prodding at it, he tried to relax and hope it would go away on its own, which evidently made things worse. Desperately, Lloyd tries to stroke his length once more and cries out, releasing it immediately. He was still too sensitive and sore.
Should he try to put ice on it? At the mere thought, Lloyd flinches.
“Hey, you!” Lloyd calls to the air. “A little help here!”
[Sorry, this is way too spicy for me. I’ll be back after your rut ends.]
The messenger box pops up and disappears just as quickly. Lloyd snarls at the empty space where it left.
He was quickly running out of ideas, and the pain in his groin was becoming intolerable. He tries not to hyperventilate as he watches how the vessels along his cock pulse visibly, every twitch making him grimace with discomfort.
Lloyd steels his breath. He sits up and yanks open his bed curtains.
He’d reached his last resort.
“Javier!”
He barely finishes screaming before the door bangs open, Javier charging into the room, shirtless, his sword in one hand and his other holding a hastily-wrapped sheet around his waist.
“Master Lloyd!” He shouts, before freezing.
“… I think I broke my dick,” Lloyd whispers faintly.
Javier shuts his eyes tightly, sighing. Slowly, he turns around and moves for the door.
“No, no, please don’t go, man, I’m freaking out!”
His voice must sound hysterical, because he sees Javier visibly waver, before shutting the door with a snarl. Javier drops his sword to the floor with a clatter and sits in his chair. Lloyd relaxes, sitting back in the sheets and allowing the curtains to fall once more.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sounding pained.
“It’s-- it’s all swollen,” Lloyd whispers to him. “Like, abnormally swollen. It hurts like hell.”
“… Have you knotted yet?”
Lloyd blinks. “Have I knotted?”
There’s a palpable silence. Through the sheer curtains, he sees Javier stare at him with disbelief.
“What-- What are we going to do?” Lloyd asks shrilly.
“We are not doing anything,” Javier snaps. “You are on your own.”
“I’m going to die--?!”
“No. My lord, really—” Javier drops his face into his hands.
Lloyd swallows deeply and waits.
“My lord,” Javier starts, his voice filled with frustration. “You can evade my questions, lie, and pretend. But if you insist on maintaining this ruse of yours, you will need to learn to be an alpha.”
Lloyd feels himself freeze to the bone. Javier stares him down.
“The real Lloyd Frontera…” he murmurs, “He was an alpha through and through. You are not fooling anyone like this.”
“We—” Lloyd stutters. “We can talk about that later. For now, can you please help me?”
He hears Javier sigh, watches Javier sit with his fists clenched tightly together. “Have you… finished?”
Flushing, Lloyd whispers, “Yeah.”
“Alphas have knots. It is a swelling at the base. It is normal after…”
“Okay…” Lloyd shuffles. “Is it supposed to hurt?”
“No, you are supposed to—” Javier cuts off and groans. “I cannot believe this. I am a master swordsman. Why this task has fallen to me—”
“Hey, enough complaining and just tell me!”
“Do not make demands of me,” Javier grits out. “I have already shown enough restraint.”
Lloyd feels his fear shift into anger within the instant, the indignation filling his chest and rumbling through his throat. “I can make whatever demand I please--”
Suddenly, the air becomes suffocating with Javier’s scent. He stands abruptly and crowds against the curtains, and Lloyd lunges upwards to meet him at eye level.
“No,” Javier snarls. “You have called for me during my rut, when I am legally entitled to have the week off. I am here, frustrated and naked, in another alpha’s den, which reeks of your release I might add, and you have the audacity to—”
“I’m sorry.” It takes every ounce of restraint in Lloyd’s body to spit out the words. He tried to make it sound earnest, but it comes out as a growl.
They’re both getting too riled up. This wasn’t like their usual bickering. If he doesn’t keep a clear head, he fears that Javier and him will roll into a tumble, grabbing at each other’s throats with their teeth.
Javier nods, visibly struggling as he takes a step back from the bed, then another. The distance makes Lloyd’s shoulders ease.
“You are supposed to squeeze it,” Javier says.
Lloyd swallows, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his cock. He hisses at the sensation, forcing his grip tighter, but it still brings nothing but pain.
“It’s not working.”
“Then you must be doing it wrong.”
“Then you should give better directions than—” Lloyd cuts himself off. It was driving him mad, the way Javier’s pheromones were seeping into his den. He felt like he was one step away from throwing open the curtains and tackling Javier to the ground.
“It— It is supposed to mimic… being inside something.”
Lloyd tries again, unable to smother the pained whine that escapes his throat. He can feel his eyes watering up, his breath hitching.
If he starts crying in front of Javier while failing to masturbate, he debates committing suicide. Hopefully, the embarrassment of this situation will kill him first.
His bed curtains slide open. Lloyd flinches, looking up at Javier’s resigned expression.
“Show me,” he says.
Feeling his face burn, Lloyd sits up and spreads his legs. He hears Javier suck in a hiss of air, feels the bed shift as Javier kneels on the edge of the mattress.
Lloyd swallows thickly, meeting Javier’s bright blue eyes.
“You are doubling my wages,” Javier growls. “And when this is over, we will never speak of it again.”
Then he reaches down and wraps a hand tight around the base of Lloyd’s cock.
Lloyd throws his head back against his pillow. He hears himself scream. It felt like a second orgasm, a blissful one that finally sated him, all of the pent-up frustrations snapping loose and causing his vision to go stark white.
He could feel himself rutting into Javier’s tight fist, the way Javier’s other hand flew to his hip and pushed him down. Javier makes a disgruntled sound, something that causes the heat in Lloyd’s gut to flare even hotter. He was writhing, digging his hands and feet into the sheets and tossing his head back and forth.
Amidst the haze in his muddled brain, it was Javier’s enduring scent that he gripped onto desperately, grounded by it.
That powerful, unavoidable presence like rain water and cold air. It smelled different with Javier’s rut, hazy and agitated like a thunderstorm whirling around itself, static that raised the hairs on Lloyd’s bare skin and made him shiver down to his core. Lloyd lets that scent soak into him as he recovers, his mind slowly exiting the fog.
He takes a gasping breath and runs a hand through his damp hair, his eyes fluttering open.
Javier is staring at him with his chest heaving, his pupils dilated. Lloyd’s gaze traces over his broad shoulders, down his chest along the smooth lines of his muscles.
Lloyd’s breath hitches. In his twists and turns, he’d clawed off the sheet from Javier’s waist. His mouth parts, taking in Javier’s hard length, the way it throbbed and dripped against the sheets. He could see the beginnings of the knot swelling at the base of Javier’s groin.
Javier leans in. Lloyd freezes, holding stock-still as Javier presses their necks together.
“Oh…” Lloyd moans shakily. It put pressure on his aching scent gland.
Something about the gesture washed over him slowly, filling him with an immense calmness, something that bordered on euphoria. Javier’s pale hair tickles Lloyd’s cheek as he blinks at the ceiling in a daze.
“Never…” Javier rasps against his ear. “Never bare your neck to an alpha in rut.”
Then he pulls away. He grabs his sheet and yanks it free from under Lloyd’s leg, wrapping it around himself. He picks up his sword from the floor and leaves with a polite click of the door.
Lloyd spends the remainder of his rut flitting in and out of lucency, rolling in Javier’s scent. Meals, carafes of water and fresh laundry are left at his door’s slot on a daily basis. When his mind is clear, he cleans himself and paces around the room restlessly. It’s only a matter of time before the heat of his rut overtakes him once again, and he will wrestle and writhe in the sheets.
The last glimpse of Javier’s scent is somewhere in the room. Lloyd paces around, digging into the disarrayed laundry on the floor until he finally finds Javier’s pillow kicked under the bed, the one Javier clutches while sleeping at Lloyd’s side each night.
Lloyd ruts against it, biting into the fabric with a snarl as he climaxes.
With his addled mind, it’s easy not to think too hard about it. He clings to the pillow for the remainder of his rut, sleeping against it and basking in that scent of a summer storm.
~
When his rut finally ends, the morning bringing cool relief instead of more humid heat, Lloyd’s eyes snap open.
A grim feeling overtakes him, like sinking slowly into ice water.
He’d really spent his whole rut fantasizing about Javier.
The infatuation wasn’t a surprise for him. Suho Kim had grown up lonely and socially-inept. He never thought much about his sexuality in his previous life, but he did have a tendency to become infatuated with anyone his age that was remotely attractive and treated him nicely.
Javier was an ideal man, after all. He was powerful, hard-working and fiercely loyal. He was insanely gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that turned heads everywhere he went. He could banter back and forth against Lloyd with quick wit and dry humour. It was also fucking hot when he grabbed Lloyd by the knot and made him climax.
Really, Lloyd would have been more surprised if he hadn’t picked up a crush on Javier at some point.
“For future reference, Lloyd Frontera patrons the heat house during his rut. They are not the most… tasteful establishments, but there are omegas to tend to your needs.”
Lloyd nods, not quite paying attention.
After a week of struggling for a whisper of Javier’s scent, it felt amazing to finally bask in it. Javier’s presence was filling his den, fresh like the first rain of the season. Lloyd could barely resist the temptation to crowd into Javier’s space, to press their necks together as they had during their rut.
“If you still plan to spend your yearly ruts in the manor, it is good practice to notify the servants in advance. And me. It is less than ideal to have unmated rutting alphas in proximity, as you now know.”
This world had alphas, betas and omegas. Alphas and omegas could make bonded pairs, mating for life. They were biologically in tune with each other. He’d seen mated pairs of males and females in any combination, but they were consistently an alpha and omega.
Did this world have concepts of homosexuality?
He hasn’t seen a single alpha—alpha pair in the year he’s been here, Lloyd realises as his gut sinks. Perhaps he was alone in this.
“My lord.”
“Yeah?” Lloyd responds, then winces.
Javier clearly picks up on his absent mind, watching him closely. “You have not scented your parents in a long time. It saddens them.”
Then, at Lloyd’s blank look, he states, “You do not know what scenting is.”
Lloyd shakes his head.
“Scenting is a way of imprinting,” Javier explains. “It is something evolutionary that came with the development of packs and social hierarchies. It releases hormones and endorphins.”
Javier adjusts his chair, pulling it closer to Lloyd’s bed. He reaches an arm towards him. “Take my hand.”
Timidly, Lloyd accepts it, jolting as Javier guides their hands up to the base of Lloyd’s neck.
“When you want to scent someone, you take their wrist and place it on your scent gland, like this.” He firmly rubs his wrist at the base of Lloyd’s shoulder, before releasing.
Lloyd watches him pull away, his eyes following Javier’s hand as if magnetised.
“That is how you scent your pack as an alpha. It signals that you have claimed them as your own and they are under your protection. Scent your parents next time you see them. Perhaps Sir Ppodong and the others will also appreciate the gesture.”
“Okay,” Lloyd nods. He offers his wrist. “Now me?”
Javier seems to startle, before shaking his head. “That is not how this works.”
“Why not?”
“You are the heir of the estate and my employer, thus you initiate scenting as the dominant alpha. Do not let any subordinate scent you themselves. They do not have good intentions if they try. It is demeaning of your status.”
“Oh…” Lloyd says, dropping his hand. “But you scented me during—”
Javier snarls at him. “We swore not to discuss that.”
“Well, maybe I’m more mature than you,” Lloyd says, ignoring the way Javier sends him a baffled, infuriated look. “You’re supposed to teach me everything about being an alpha.”
Javier lets out a relenting sigh, leaning back in his chair. “That was how scenting is done between lovers. Do not try that with normal people—”
“—Lovers?!” Lloyd chokes. “You--?!”
“I was in rut. You bared your neck to me,” Javier grits out. “Be thankful you left with a scenting and not a bond bite.”
“What’s a bond bite—”
“I tire of teaching,” Javier interrupts. “We can continue another time. Now please do the lullaby and put me out of my misery.”
With an amused snort, Lloyd nods and sits up. In his head, he reminds himself of that most agonising chapter on the regulations of schematic designs.
Just as Lloyd begins to speak, Javier holds out a hand.
“… I apologize,” Javier says. There’s a flush rising up his neck. “It was not proper of me to scent you. Please excuse my behaviour during my rut.”
“I mean, I didn’t care…” Lloyd rubs the back of his head. That was the understatement of the year.
At his response, Javier’s lips press into a firm line. “You were not yourself. Pay it no mind.”
Lloyd nods. Even after the fog of rut left his mind, Javier hadn’t. Lloyd doubts his infatuation was going away any time soon.
He begins to speak. Javier’s eyes slip shut, his pheromones calming like rain dancing on a lake’s surface.
Lloyd drifts to sleep, revelling in Javier’s scent with every breath.
~