by Willa Okati
Pleased, Zane turned in a lazy circle, arms held out to the side. He would have given his new piercings a gentle tweak if Grant hadn’t insisted they be covered, but at least that made sense now. Grant’s gaze still went straight to them despite their being hidden, fiercely pleased and hungry as the devil.
“You like what you see?” Zane asked, expecting a casual answer, something tossed carelessly out so that no one could read more into it than Grant wanted. It was his way, Zane had learned. When he meant it the most, he spoke about it the least. Zane could relate. How had he himself not told Grant?
They were more alike than they weren’t, Alpha and Omega aside.
And so Zane expected an off-the-cuff compliment. What he didn’t anticipate was Grant giving him a sudden, wicked grin, and then his dropping under the water like he had rocks attached to his tits. Zane jumped back, but before he could do more than flinch Grant had grabbed him by the ankles and given them an almighty yank. He slipped and zipped under the water too, hollering bubbles at the shock of the cold.
Zane came up still shouting, almost exactly as the same time as Grant, and didn’t waste a second in thinking when he could be acting instead. He launched himself at the Alpha with a war cry and landed on him in a body-to-body belly flop that took them right back under again. He twined his arms and legs around Grant and gave him a good spin before letting go, kick-swimming in a come-and-chase-me bid.
Grant rose to the occasion, and just beautifully. Foreplay in motion, that’s what this was. Leave it to Grant to come up with the creative path.
And Zane loved it. Almost as much as he loved his -- anyway.
He ducked Grant to the bottom and rubbed his shoulders in the river mud, then closed his eyes and stroked away through the water, wondering if it would start boiling around him if he got much hotter. Slickness trickled out of him to lubricate his inner thighs regardless of the water and the inside of his lower belly pulsed in long, lazy spasms of growing arousal.
Well, this was a fine time for that to happen.
Zane kept his eyes closed and treaded water. He sipped breath carefully, not letting it shake or start to race, but he knew heat when he felt it. A smart man would have gone on suppressants when they took up with an Alpha who didn’t want kids, damn it all. Last time he’d gone into heat around an Alpha he’d gotten knocked up. He’d sworn never again.
Funny how life had a way of making its own plans.
Zane bit his lip as a particularly lusty pulse of arousal fed the fire inside him. His body wanted Grant’s cock. He wanted Grant buried balls-deep inside him and bathing his channel with cum. He rubbed his stomach, engulfed with the all-consuming need to have it filled, to feel that sense of life growing inside, to watch himself go round as a ball and up to his chin with child. He ached to reach between his legs and finger himself open in echo of how it’d felt to bring a baby out.
He wanted Grant’s baby and he wanted it now, damn it.
Didn’t he just know how to pick them? The one Alpha that got his motor revving was the one who’d probably run as if his vas deferens were on fire at the thought of becoming a father. Hell!
Zane moaned under his breath, unable to keep it inside. Would the water hide his state from Grant? Would it, bah. Zane scoffed at the question as soon as he’d asked it. Still. It was early. Grant would be able to detect that as well as the rest. And sure enough, when Grant swam toward him he jerked to a halt, his nostrils twitching wide in a startled sniff at the scent pouring off Zane.
But. But he didn’t stop for good, and he didn’t back away. Instead he set his jaw the way Zane had seen him do right before attacking one job or another at the old shop, and plunged forward as if he’d just rolled up his sleeves. He caught up a handful of water and splashed it at Zane, still playful, but gentler now, as if he understood the struggle.
Even so, it was a shock when he took Zane’s hand. “Come on, Omega,” he said, quietly and gently for Grant. “Let’s get up on the bank and look at the stars for a while.”
Zane rallied. “Soaking wet like this? We’ll freeze.”
Grant raised a shoulder. “That’d be a bad thing, to cool down?”
No, it wouldn’t. And yes, it would. Or yes, it would, if Zane planned to give in and take what he wanted. Being in the water was too fluid, it brought up too many memories of salt and blood and birth. Air was cold and unforgiving. It ought to shock him back to sense, at least for a little while, and then he could get himself back under control.
He could.
He nodded, and followed Grant out of the water, up onto the bank.
Out of the knapsack he’d brought Grant hauled out one of those space-age blankets, the kind that folded thin as a box of Kleenex and looked like someone had just unwrapped the world’s largest baked potato, and spread it on the ground. He folded Zane’s jacket into a peculiar-looking parcel and tossed it to him. “For your head,” he explained, doing the same with the clothes he’d worn.
Zane frowned. “You don’t want me dressed.”
“You’ll be lying downwind, you’ll be fine.” Grant eased himself down atop the blanket, which was more than large enough for one short and one skinny man to lie on without touching. “Come on. Do as you’re told.”
Which would normally be the surefire way to get Zane to do his own thing, but the Omega in him bowed its head and did as he’d damn well been told -- and he’d be damned if it didn’t help. The cold of the earth, the startling shock of the wind over his wet skin, all cooled him to the point where he could think again with more than just his dick and womb.
He drew a deep, lusty breath that rattled on its way in and out.
“Better?” Grant asked, off to the side.
Zane took another breath and sighed it out. He nodded, but knew Grant sensed it and took his meaning.
They lay there for a few long moments, together but not, blanketed by nothing but the night sky and silence.
Though the silence came at a cost. Zane licked his lips as quietly as he could, but over and over again, struggling with the need to speak. Would it be the worst thing in the world? he wanted to ask. To have a son of your own? To have someone to take over the legacy from you, in time? I’d stay to help you. Like I’m helping you now. I could stay and tattoo for you and pierce for you and either way I’m going to be an artist to be proud of. You know I am because you taught me how. We could do this together. We could have it all.
It was a good argument. One that made sense. And one that a stubborn dick, love him though Zane might, would never agree to. Because it wasn’t what the plan was supposed to be when he’d thought it up. Zane toyed with the idea of getting pissed about it, but what would the point be in that? Might as well get mad at the wind for being swift.
Grant wouldn’t go his way. Zane -- couldn’t go his. Not for much longer. This whole thing was a powder keg about to explode. They’d have to end it. It was the only way. And he might as well do it now, while he was --
Zane opened his mouth, ready to speak no matter how little he wanted to, but startled at the touch of warm/chilly fingers brushing his without warning. He caught his breath entirely when Grant took his hand in a firm hold.
“Hush,” was all Grant said, but Zane’s mouth clamped itself shut. He couldn’t help but roll his hips though, fresh need twisting him from the inside. He dared a sneak peek at Grant’s profile but couldn’t tell a damn thing about what his Alpha might be thinking. Grant had his stare fixed upward, hard at the stars that Zane couldn’t bother paying attention to, and his jaw was set.
But -- but. His jaw worked, as if he were arguing with himself.
Zane’s muscles went tight, unable to let go.
“It’s got you good, huh?” Grant asked. “I can smell it. I can almost feel it.”
Zane assayed a nod, and curiosity loosened his tongue. “Ever been in this fix with an Omega before?”
Grant barked a short laugh. “Not intentionally.” He rubbed at his face. “We should go back to town.
Right now.”
“We should,” Zane echoed. Then, somehow bolder than he’d thought he could be, “Do you want to?”
Grant’s second laugh was drier, a little despairing, and a whole lot ravenous. “Do I, hell.”
“Then…” Zane shuddered, but with lust, not fear. Was he going to get what he wanted? Even a taste would be enough.
“Conditions,” Grant said. “I brought condoms. Spermicide. Other things.”
Zane nodded, eager enough to accept the plan he saw taking shape. “I’m not on suppressants. I know you know that,” he said just the same, because fair was fair.
“I can smell, Omega,” Grant said wryly. He didn’t ask if Zane had been expecting his heat, and for that Zane was grateful for the Alpha’s practicality. Sometimes, even if not often, proximity could bring it on.
And there they were, weren’t they.
Grant hesitated, and Zane was sure he was about to suggest they pack it in for the night. Instead, he said, “But if we’re careful…”
Zane’s mouth was dry. “If we’re careful,” he said around the cotton on his tongue. “Just this once. Just once.”
Grant let out his breath. “Just once,” he said, and pulled hard on Zane’s hand. “And no more talking about it. Deal?”
Whether he meant talking now or talking later, Zane didn’t know and didn’t care. “Deal,” he said, and rolled himself into Grant’s arms.
Just for one night, he could pretend he had everything he wanted, body and soul, and that would be good enough for him.
* * *
Oh, he’d wanted this. Even when he hadn’t let himself think about wanting it, Grant had wanted Zane like the desert wanted water.
He could have sworn Zane wanted him just as much, just as hungrily, too. And it wasn’t conceit, for fuck’s sake. All those surprise sex-pounces at work would lead anyone to an inevitable conclusion.
Except.
Grant turned over to lie on his back and craned his neck for a better look at Zane who, nope, hadn’t moved anything but his head. He stared at Grant as if he wasn’t sure what to do or where to start. He’d caught his lip between his teeth and worried at it, white teeth making dents in soft flesh.
Not so much with the sexy. Grant tucked his hands behind his head. “Something wrong? Do I have river algae on my face?”
Zane cracked a grin. “Would I tell you if you did?”
“Nope. You’d leave it and laugh at me.”
That drew a small, but real chuckle out of Zane, and he finally quit biting at his lip. Good thing, too. Biting those pretty red lips was Grant’s job, thank you very much. He freed one hand and reached out to nudge Zane in the bare thigh -- which gave him a glimpse of how interested Zane’s body was. Which only left the problem based in his…”Something’s on your mind. Spill it.”
Zane shook his head. “No,” he said, suddenly so determined and damn near ferocious that it made Grant blink in surprise. “No,” he said again, twisting about onto his knees and then crawling on top of Grant, straddling him. And “No,” he said one more time before bending his head to crush his mouth to Grant’s, stopping the words altogether.
Which Grant would have objected to, if his tongue hadn’t been otherwise occupied. Good God, Zane could kiss when he had a mind to, and all his mind seemed bent on that right at the moment. He dipped deep, sweeping Grant’s mouth with his tongue, biting at Grant’s lips instead of his own, and doing filthy things Grant didn’t even know the names for with his hips all the while. His body was in fact interested, boy howdy, and their erections rubbed together lubricated by the slick that dripped from Zane’s Omega center.
Grant tore away for enough breath to gasp, “What the fuck, Omega?”
Zane bared his teeth in what wasn’t a smile, but wasn’t not a smile either. “Exactly. Get with the program, Alpha.”
So he wasn’t going to talk. Grant never would have figured he’d see the day, but under the circumstances… He gripped Zane’s hips good and hard -- his Omega liked a finger bruise or two to remember the occasion by when he was particularly feisty -- and rocked his groin up. “You want to go for a ride, is that it?”
Zane’s teeth stayed bared, and to be honest it was a look Grant was growing to appreciate more and more. Made him feel like he was fucking a wildcat as well as a wild man, and he liked it. Zane didn’t speak, but reached between them to take hold of Grant’s cock and, with just a little help from gravity and a lot of help from his slick, slid Grant inside him.
Almost.
Grant jerked back at the last second. “Condom,” he said. “Condoms in my jeans pocket.”
Zane let out a noise that was definitely kissing cousins with a snarl, but then he drew a deep, ragged breath and rolled off. One quick knee-walk to where Grant’s jeans had ended up on the bank, a rummage through his pockets, and Zane was back, already tearing open the packet as he threw his leg back over Grant. Grant raised himself on his elbows to watch. For one, because he liked to. A hot Omega with hands all over his dick? Sweet. But for two, because Zane’s hands were shaking and Grant wasn’t sure he wouldn’t need help.
He managed. With a growl of success, Zane glared at Grant as if daring him to come up with another objection, and when none came, let Grant guide him down, seating his cock balls-deep in Zane’s channel.
They both groaned. Grant wasn’t an Omega, but he had taken the occasional toy up his ass. Still, he couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have a stiff dick right there in the center of you, to be so filled. Must be pretty decent, he thought, watching Zane’s eyes flutter as he tipped his head back in a sharply curved arc of the neck. As for his part, fucking hell, there was nothing better, could never be anything better. Hot, ridged muscle that gripped his cock like a hungry python and would have held him locked there if he didn’t want to move quite so much. Up -- deeper -- down -- shallower -- deep again -- watching Zane with each hungry push and pull. God, Zane was taking him so far inside. Not too far, he’d bumped the mouth of an Omega’s womb once and gotten thrown halfway across the room while the Omega let out a shriek of pained indignation, but damn near close to that.
The night hadn’t seemed so hot when Grant started, but sweat poured down his face and slicked his body with a fine sheet of salt. Zane’s too, making him a slippery handful. Zane’s cock, hard and angry-red, bobbed against his belly as he rose and fell, taking over the reins of the ride now.
Which suited Grant fine. He let go of one hip to take Zane’s cock in hand, and reveled in the way Zane’s eyes flew open wide, as did his mouth, in a startled gasp of arousal.
“You’re on a hair trigger, aren’t you,” Grant murmured, enjoying this maybe more than he should, but -- what the hell. He toyed with the slit at the tip of Zane’s cock. “Why isn’t this pierced? This needs to be pierced. I could put the hoop in myself. Give me something to… tug.” He pulled lightly at the skin there, gratified beyond words when a keening noise escaped his Omega. “And speaking of tugging…” It took some careful balancing, but he reached up and gave Zane’s covered nipple piercings a good tweak that made Zane lose his rhythm and grind down hard. “You like that, oh yeah, I knew you would.”
“Grant,” Zane panted, hair over his eyes, in his face, but still glaring effectively. “Shut. Up. And fuck me.”
His wish. Grant’s command. No more games now. Grant set to it, driving deep as he could, only coming halfway out. It got harder, and not just the moves. His cock felt like steel, red-hot from being in a furnace, and his groin was so tight he thought it would split open from the pressure and he did not mind one fucking bit. He caught Zane’s cock in his hand again, stroking ruthlessly and fast, driven to make sure his Omega came like never before.
Zane made a hiccupping sound, part keen and part protest and part desperate need -- his hips stuttered -- and with an elegant arch, like a dancer, he gave a great shudder and sob and came, splashing Grant’s stomach with sticky white. He bit his lip so hard then that Grant saw the skin split, whic
h he’d attend to later after he -- came --
The world whited out as Zane’s channel gripped and held. If it weren’t for the condom, he would have filled Zane to the depths with his seed.
And for one second -- just one -- Grant wished as fiercely as the fires of hell that it had.
Chapter Seven
But if wishes were horses, eh.
Grant shook his head as he dealt with the condom and pushed it aside for disposal later. After all, Zane had never shown any interest Grant had noticed of being a “typical” Omega. The occasional conversation about kids and why Grant didn’t -- hadn’t -- wanted to have them…
When had that changed? When Zane walked into his shop? Before?
He’d lost track of his train of thought.
Start over.
Zane didn’t seem interested in having kids. Even if Grant had changed his mind, it didn’t follow that Zane might have. So keep that zipped, even if you can’t keep your pants closed, and you’ll be all right.
While an Omega astride was just fine during the heat of the moment, a full-grown man did get heavy afterward. Grant nudged at Zane to get him to roll off, and turned on his side when Zane flopped as gracelessly as a dead cat onto his back.
No, that was overstating it. As gracelessly as someone who’d been thoroughly fucked, which was just as likely to be accurate and painted them both in a much better light.
Far more pleased with that description, Grant settled himself comfortably on his hip and bent his head to nuzzle Zane’s chest. Mmm, smooth chest. He’d always liked guys with a little fur to them before Zane -- Omegas could be plenty hairy, it was just a matter of genetics and grooming choices, same as with Alphas. He hadn’t liked getting hair between his teeth when he bit their nipples but you took the rough with the smooth in this world. And speaking of… carefully as he could, he peeled the protective covering off Zane’s right nipple and touched his fingertip to the gold ring through it. It took some balls to pierce yourself, and Zane had done a nice job of it. Really was almost healed too, well enough for a gentle tug.