by Willa Okati
“This is not how it’s supposed to work,” Jory muttered, covering his eyes again. “When I look up, all those pillows and blankets are going to have organized themselves into a neat, cozy, comfy breeding nest. I love romantic comedies. I’ve watched greeting card company home-for-the-holidays movies by the dozen. I have seen how this part of it works. Okay? So no more nonsense. On the count of three, you’re going to get yourself in shape. Got it? Good. One -- two -- three.”
He took a peek.
Nope.
Damn. Well, it’d been worth a shot. Jory scowled at the tangled blankets, then bent from the waist to pick one up and fold it preparatory to trying again. He’d get it right, before Darius showed up, or die trying.
Though that wasn’t the only thing not going quite to plan tonight. His suppressants, for one. The insert in every box of pills he’d been prescribed since he’d enlisted warned that failing to take them even one day could result in an unplanned pregnancy. Missing three days should have meant he’d have to go back and start a new month’s pack. Miss a week, and he should have gone into heat harder and deeper than a professional breeder.
Maybe. But in Jory’s opinion? Whoever wrote those inserts needed some reeducation in reality. He’d resorted to searching Reddit in the end, and discovered that a heck of a lot of omegas who’d been on suppressants for years might take weeks to clear their systems. It wasn’t supposed to work that way, but for some it did. Some never got back on track.
If this didn’t work -- if he couldn’t have the baby his heart yearned for, Darius’s baby…
Jory bit his lip, hard. It had to work. He wouldn’t not let it work. They’d see. He kept fantasizing about how it could be. Dreams. Snatches of fancies that seemed so real he almost lost track of the difference between imagination and reality. They teased at him, tickling his senses, tempting him back and back again. If he closed his eyes he could almost see, feel, hear, smell, taste Darius pressed close to him.
Naked, they stood chest to chest, their legs tangled the way they’d always done in booths and under tables, but so much better now. The rough hair on Darius’s chest scraped at Jory’s softer skin, giving him chills that contrasted so wonderfully with the fever heat of his body that it made him moan.
“So beautiful,” Darius murmured, slowly going to his knees. Tall as he was, he could rest on one knee and press his mouth to Jory’s still-smooth, still-flat belly. He pressed his tongue into Jory’s navel, then blew a stream of cool air over the wet skin. “Can’t wait for this to be round and full. You’re going to look so hot with my baby in you. I’ll measure you every day and I’ll fuck you for every inch you grow, fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for hours. And when you’re in labor I’ll sit in the bed behind you and hold your legs open, and you’ll remember how I got you there, and you’ll beg me for another.”
Jory’s cock jerked and spurted, not fully orgasming yet, but close enough that spunk trickled down their entwined legs.
“Oh, you like that,” Darius said with dark satisfaction. “You like that idea.” He slipped his hand between Jory’s legs and slid two fingers into the small slit between balls and ass where an Alpha would have only a blind dimple. Normally barely noticeable, it dripped with honey-sweet slickness and it was swollen, open, eager for penetration.
Jory cried out and bucked forward, trying to take Darius deeper. “More,” he panted. “More…”
A cough started Jory out of his fantasy. His eyes snapped open, and he promptly realized three things. One, his apartment looked like an explosion in a textile mill. Two, at some point he’d worked his hand between his legs and started finger-fucking himself like a whore. Three, Darius was standing in the open door of Jory’s apartment, the key he’d long had dangling idly from one finger, and that his gaze was fixed on Jory as if he was the biggest freak on planet earth.
Or… Wait. No. No, not like he was a freak. Like he was a piece of chocolate fucking cake, and like Darius hadn’t eaten all day. Hot damn.
Chapter Three
Jory caught his breath. “You’re here,” he said, still out of breath and, he realized, achingly hard. “You came.”
“You almost did too, just now,” Darius said, equally quiet, equally breathless. “I almost didn’t say anything to stop you.”
He had to know. “Why did you?”
“Because,” Darius said. He kicked the door shut, dropped the key, his jacket, and pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. “Because I’ve been wondering all day how awkward this might be, but I know now if I don’t get my mouth on you in the next ten seconds…”
Jory’s heart gave a great lurch. “The nest isn’t right.”
“Don’t give a damn.” Darius prowled toward him, shedding clothes as he went. His eyes were huge, the pupils dark pools of lust. “Skin, Jory. Let me see skin.”
Jory tried again, just because Darius needed to know. “My suppressants haven’t cleared. I won’t get pregnant tonight.”
“Don’t give a damn.” Darius had reached Jory by now, and undid the fastenings on Jory’s jeans with deft, brutal quickness, thrusting his hand inside. “Take these off, or I’ll do it for you.”
One last hindrance -- and maybe it was far, far too late to be asking this now, but -- Jory laid a hand on Darius’s chest, over his galloping heart. “Will you still be my friend, afterward?”
“Jory.” Darius lay his hand over Jory’s heart. “Yes. Always, yes. But I want -- I need -- I’m going, I’m going to fuck you until you scream, and you don’t stop, until you come and you beg for more. The way you smell, even without the suppressants gone… God.” His eyes were huge and dark, deep, fathomless. Hungry. “Get on the floor and open your legs for me, Jory. Now.”
Well then. Jory grinned without expecting to, a blazing grin that felt bright as Times Square to him. “Put me on the floor yourself,” he purred. “And keep me there, Alpha.”
A glint of challenge and challenge accepted gleamed in Darius’s eye, and that was all the warning Jory got. Strong arms, stronger than he’d imagined, wrapped around Jory and crowded him against the nearest wall in a rush of limbs and muscle. Pinned him there, body pressed to body, tight and hard -- not quite the way Jory had dreamed of but so much better.
Jory opened his mouth to pant with lust. Yes. Oh, yes. “Good for a start,” he said on a ragged breath. “That your best move?”
“Best move?” Darius put his lips to the sweet spot on Jory’s neck and scraped his teeth across it, making Jory cry out. “I haven’t even started.” He licked over the shell of Jory’s ear, then bit it. “You’ll know my best move when you feel it.”
Jory’s knees wobbled. Darius caught him, laughing low in his throat, and lifted him back up until he was steady on his legs.
“Before you ask, yes, I liked the sound of that.” Jory did a little nipping of his own, catching the lobe of Darius’s left ear briefly between his teeth.
Darius made a deep humming noise that Jory thought meant good. Or maybe it meant hang on to your hat, because otherwise it’s going flying across the room with the rest of your clothes.
Discovery. When Darius undressed a man, he did it like he meant it, like a wide-eyed wonder-filled innocent under a Christmas tree unpeeling packages full of treasure, and at the same time, like a filthy-minded monster bent on devouring each treasure whole.
How did he do it? It shouldn’t have been possible.
Jory decided he didn’t care. He let Darius, in full Alpha mode, manhandle him about and went ragdoll-limp with delight. Buttons popped under impatient fingers and ricocheted against the wall. Zippers were lowered carefully, then denim shoved roughly off hips, the boxers underneath given their due of appreciation and ghosted off him with the barest touch of fingertips.
When he stood naked in front of Darius, a momentary twinge of shyness almost made Jory want to cover himself again. He knew how he must look -- red with passion, his hair curling damp with sweat, his cock engorged and his thighs dripping wet with his own slick. His
smell was almost too strong for him to take.
What must Darius… Oh.
What must Darius, indeed. Kneeling in front of Jory, where he’d landed to help get shoes and socks off, Darius looked as if he’d been hit between the eyes with a ten pound hammer. His lips were parted, and only the thinnest ring of iris showed around the bottomless depths of his pupils. He looked like a hunting cat ready to pounce.
Jory stood up straight, chin high, on display and proud of it. He lifted one foot to nudge Darius’s knee with his bare toes. “Well?”
Darius shook his head without a word, but Jory’s voice jolted him back into action. He surged to his feet and caught Jory up in some odd, sinuous, thoroughly effective twisting motion. Afterward, Jory wouldn’t have been able to describe what Darius had done or how if his life had depended on it. But it didn’t matter. All that did was that the impromptu twister landed them both deep in the tangled mess of what Jory had assumed was a badly failed nest.
Failed? Not so much. Sheets and quilts billowed around him, enveloping him, soft under his back and buoyant around the sides. The lighter scent of laundry detergent, homey and real-world as it got, grounded him as much as the firm floor underneath, and brought everything into sharp, clear focus. Darius knelt above him, watching the way a hawk would watch its dinner a thousand miles below, simultaneously far too far away and so close that Jory could taste his scent too.
Jory shook his head, awed. He’d had sex before. Some of it had even been good sex. Nothing like this. He wanted to savor every second of it. He wanted… He arched his back and stretched as he watched Darius shedding clothes above him. He wanted Darius, and by God, he was about to have him.
The thought made his mouth water, and not only that. There was a shallow pool between his thighs that amazed him when he dipped a finger in the sticky puddle to play with it. How could he possibly make so much when he wasn’t even in proper heat yet? Good Lord, what would it be like when he was?
He stopped, feeling Darius’s gaze zero in on him again, going from his slippery fingers to his cock and to his face, dumbstruck anew. So Darius liked that, did he? Well. He’d love this. Jory slid two fingers between his legs and into his channel, meaning only to frig himself lightly, to tease Darius and egg him on.
It didn’t work out that way. The second his fingers went inside, his channel clamped down around them with the most exquisite spasm of sensation he’d ever known, and he’d masturbated so many times as a teenager it was a wonder he didn’t have a full crop of hair on both palms. He knew what jacking off felt like, and it didn’t feel like this, not ever.
Except it did, now, and he shouted for the shock and the bliss of it, a shout that died to a moan and a breathless cry. He managed to slide his fingers free, though the instant sense of throbbing emptiness made him want to weep. His channel contracted, open and closed like a tiny eye -- so small, for something that could open wide enough to let a baby out -- and drooled more slick onto the sheets.
Darius made a sharp, deep, shocked noise and leaned forward, reaching out… stopping…
No, that wouldn’t do. No matter why he’d stopped, Jory wasn’t having it. “Darius,” he rasped, spreading his legs. “God, Darius. Get down here and fuck me before I die from wanting your cock inside me. Fuck me, fuck me hard.”
“That’s it,” Darius said, equally ragged, equally rough and out of breath. “That’s what I wanted. For you to ask me.”
Jory reached up for him. “No turning back now.”
“None,” Darius agreed, and lowered himself on top of Jory in another great, shuddering rush. His cock bumped blindly at the mouth of Jory’s channel, but there must not have been enough room. He took hold of Jory’s legs, one in each hand, and spread them so wide that the ligaments made a sharp protest -- one that Jory forgot immediately, because Darius was in him at last, at last, hard and hot and impossibly thick, and sliding home until there was no more left to give.
It hurt. Jory thought he would split apart from the size and weight and pressure of Darius’s cock, and he hadn’t even started moving yet. He hovered there, breathing in noisy gasps that matched Jory’s.
“Fuck,” Darius whispered. “It’s you. I’m in you. Holy shit, Jory. I’m fucking you.”
“You are,” Jory whispered back. He twined his arms around Darius’s neck, and wrapped his aching legs around Darius’s back. “Please. Please, Darius, now. Now.”
Darius pressed his mouth to Jory’s in a kiss that startled him, somehow, so fierce and sweet at the same time, and then -- oh! Jory flung his arm over his mouth and bit at his wrist. He’d imagined what being fucked by an Alpha in near-rut would be like, but he hadn’t come close! Red-hot hardness and deep, aching shoves and grips that would leave bruises and the most obscene squelching sound of slick coating both of them, and the taste of his sweat, the weight of him, all of it taken together that made him want to come, need to come, he was coming, he was…”Help,” he pleaded, right on the edge and not able to tip over. “Darius, help me!”
And Darius did. He put his teeth over the vein and nerve on Jory’s neck and bit, properly that time, and oh, that was what he’d needed. Jory bucked up, scrabbling at Darius’s back and trying to hold him closer, while his cock erupted with sticky-thick Omega spunk. Would he need to bite Darius too? He wanted to, but he didn’t get the chance. Darius pressed Jory’s hand to his mouth and bit him there as well, and let out a deep groan. Jory could feel Darius coming, spasms of wet heat within that matched the shaking of their thighs.
Then it was over. This part of it. Darius’s head was on Jory’s chest, and Jory’s fingers speared through his dark hair, each breathing so hard they lifted and pressed the other down.
Jory heard an… odd sort of noise, then. He lifted his head and looked up to see a grin on Darius’s face, and then he recognized the noise as laughing. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but it was ticklish, that laugh, and it made Jory laugh, too.
* * *
“So that was us, huh?” Jory teased, poking Darius.
“I think it was,” Darius agreed. He bent to bump his forehead with Jory, who looked worn out but so delighted it all but made him light up. “Not bad, us. We’ll have to do it again. Soon.”
Jory’s delighted grin was a worthwhile reward. He feinted a bite at Darius’s chin that missed on purpose, but followed it up with a quick kiss to the cleft there. “How soon?”
“Soon enough for both of us. And not soon enough, either.” A drop of sweat rolled down Darius’s forehead and dropped like rain on Jory’s cheek. Hmm. Jory looked good and fucked out, and that was a fine look, but also…”Water?” Darius asked.
Jory half closed his eyes. “Mmm. Yes, please.”
“You stay there. I’ll go get it.” Darius bent forward to feint a bite at the tip of Jory’s nose, then got his knees bent and his legs somehow steady beneath him. “Same place?”
“Bottom shelf of the fridge,” Jory agreed with a contented sigh.
Darius liked the sound of it. As he looked back over his shoulder, Jory rolled to his back and splayed himself out like a starfish. A happy, well-fucked starfish, and hmm, maybe that wasn’t the best analogy but to be honest Darius couldn’t give that much of a damn. He hadn’t had sex that good in -- he couldn’t remember how long. If ever. He walked to the kitchen like an animal, naked and sticky with sweat and spunk and still half-hard, and it was like walking on air. He whistled to himself as he snagged two bottles of icy cold water from Jory’s fridge.
Why hadn’t they done this before? More fools them for not.
Darius started to close the fridge, then checked himself and doubled back. Man couldn’t live on water alone. He needed better fuel than that to fuck with, and they might be taking a breather but that breather wouldn’t last forever. There were so many things he wanted to do to, to do with Jory, tonight.
Food, then. Darius narrowed his eyes as he made his choices. Protein, fats, carbs, sweets. Chocolate? Definitely chocolate. And now he had more than
he could carry, so he snagged a fruit basket from the counter and upended it, scattering all but one mango and one Japanese pear. The empty space filled up fast, jammed with thin-sliced prosciutto, rich pâté, almonds, pistachios, ale cheddar and some reeking French cheese and whole wheat crackers, a slice of tiramisu and a handful of marzipan… what the fuck?
“Why do you have marzipan penises in your fridge?” Darius asked, baffled, as he reentered the living room.
Jory burst into laughter and covered his eyes. “How deep were you digging to find those?”
Darius picked one of the tiny candy dicks out of the basket and flicked it at Jory, who batted it handily aside. “Deep enough. Bachelor party?”
“Bachelor party,” Jory confirmed. He sat up and gestured to the space across from him. “I don’t know how much food you’ve got there but I think I could eat it all. Come share my sad, sorry excuse for a nest. Two’s company.”
“It’s not that bad.”
In answer, Jory raised an eyebrow at him, and Darius had no choice but to shrug. Okay, it was bad. “Not in the way you’re thinking,” he insisted. Then, “Get up. Eat, and let me take a crack at it. See what I can do.”
The eyebrow stayed arched, but Jory took the basket and retreated to the window seat. He dug out the pear and tossed it to Darius. “Only if you eat too.”
“Fair enough.” Darius took a bite -- gritty, sweet, cool -- and chewed thoughtfully.
Jory watched him idly. “I’ve never known an Alpha to try building a nest before,” he said. “Of course, I’ve never known an Omega to fail quite so catastrophically, either.” He grinned when Darius laughed. “I know, right? I just couldn’t keep my mind on what I was doing.”
Mm-hmm. Darius knew his friend. “You were trying too hard,” he said. “Worried about making it perfect.”
Jory made a disgruntled noise. “I can’t help it. I think, therefore I am. I overthink, therefore I’m me.”
In answer, Darius reached over to dig another tiny marzipan pecker out of the basket and press it between Jory’s lips. Pink rose to Jory’s cheeks as he ate the morsel. “Does that mean ‘stop it and let me work’?”