by Willa Okati
“Hell yes,” Darian breathed. There were advantages to a man who liked thinking. “Show me.”
Coby slid two fingers under Darian’s belt buckle, and even trapped by denim and shorts, Darian’s cock jerked upward all on its own. Still caught there, Coby lowered himself to his knees and pressed his face to Darian’s groin. He breathed deeply, hungry on the inhale, starving for it on the exhale, and lifted up to lick below where jeans gave way to skin.
“I want to blow you,” he said, already as gravelly as if he’d had Darian’s cock down his throat. “For starters.”
“You’re going to kill me.” Darian rolled his hips forward. “Keep going.”
Coby laughed, ripples of movement that buzzed against Darian’s stomach, but he did what he was told. Probably because he’d wanted to anyway, but there was a hell of a something to that. Darian speared his fingers through Coby’s hair and gave him a push downward.
No matter why, Coby took directions so damned well. He kept his mouth where it was, wet tongue swirling and flicking, while his hands -- clever and nimble for their size -- jerked open belt, button, and fly. Boxers couldn’t contain what the jeans had kept trapped, and he surged into the space Coby had made for him. God damn, that man got him so hard, and harder still when Coby pulled everything in the way down to knee level and got his mouth on Darian’s cock.
He didn’t play games about it. Lips tight and hard, a bare hint of teeth, and he bent forward to take Darian’s cock deep as he could go -- and good God, that wasn’t any small distance. Darian’s balls hit his chin before he stopped, and when Coby looked up at him from under his lashes and swallowed --
“Shit,” Darian said, arching up. “Shit, shit, shit, Coby, who the fuck taught you how to do that?”
Coby drew off wet and messy, a string of saliva connecting his reddening lips to Darian’s dick. He wiped it off on his wrist and he didn’t look away. “You did.”
“I know, so what the fuck was I thinking?”
One more long, hot lick. “That you live for getting your dick sucked.”
“Oh yeah. That. But damn.” Darian wrestled him off. “This all you want? If it is, keep going.”
Coby’s grin went sharp. “That’s not all I was thinking about.”
Darian would have asked if Coby hadn’t showed him. He thrust two fingers into his mouth and sucked as enthusiastically as he’d gone after Darian’s cock, sliding them in and out with such enjoyment that Darian could have come from watching that -- if Coby had been done, but oh no, he wasn’t. Face nuzzled in again, he licked one ball at a time into his mouth and slid his hand around Darian’s backside. Those sopping fingers circled his hole, and Darian didn’t open like an Omega but when he wanted it enough, he could damn well do his best impression.
Coby’s fingers slid inside him and crooked up. He laughed, low and proud, when Darian groaned so deeply he made his own throat burn. “I didn’t teach you that.”
“Yes you did. You just didn’t know.” Coby tapped the side of his head with the hand not finger-banging Darian’s brains out.
Still, not done. He set his mouth to the inside of Darian’s thigh and shoved those fingers deep inside him, stroking and curling until he had to stop, panting and pressing a hand to his crotch. He wasn’t the only one who lived for cocksucking, but he beat Darian hands down for knowing when to stop before the party ended.
Damn.
Darian swore and smacked at him, missing when Coby dodged. “I’m still not done.” He slid out and reached for a suspiciously convenient bottle of hand sanitizer. Strong smelling, making both their noses wrinkle, but Darian had a glimmering of an idea where this was headed. Maybe. If he was wrong, he didn’t give a damn.
Good thing too. Coby stood and took him by the arm, hauling him bodily toward one of the beds -- they’d stopped calling one his and the other Darian’s. Why bother when they both got as much use out of both? He kept pulling until he fell and wrangled Darian down with him.
“There,” he said, still rough and raspy. “Take the pants off all the way. Mine and yours.”
Fuck yes. Darian shucked his shirt while watching Coby do the same, and those pants came flying off no matter how awkwardly: didn’t give a single damn about that, either. He was on his knees when they were both naked, pretty happy about it, but then had to take himself in hand and stroke -- carefully -- when Coby let his legs sprawl wide open and brought his knees up one at a time to put everything, every last bit, on display. Wet, swollen, the heat in his blood making a pulse throb where he was opening.
“Fuck,” Darian breathed reverently.
“I haven’t been thinking about just you,” Coby said.
“No?”
“Nope. Watch this. Bet I can surprise you.” Coby reached between his spread legs and rubbed himself with freshly clean fingers before sliding them inside. Before Darian’s head stopped reeling, he moaned and arched up. He shuddered on a sharp keen, and if Darian hadn’t seen it wasn’t so, he would have sworn Coby’d come, and come hard.
“What the hell.” Darian had to rub the smooth skin on Coby’s inner thighs as he leaned in, too fascinated not to need a closer look. “What did you do?”
“Something I didn’t know Omegas were able to.” Gorgeously flushed, Coby gave himself one more hard rub before he slid his fingers out and took Darian’s hand. “Your turn. Inside, a little higher than you’d go to hit -- you know.”
It was way too damn endearing how he still got a little shy even at times like this. Studying? Who needed book learning? Darian had to be in there. He had an easier time of it with all the clear fluid leaking out of Coby, but he didn’t know what he was hunting for either. Some kind of magic switch?
Coby undulated up. He guided Darian by the wrist. “Up,” he said. “You’ll know it when you feel it.”
Darian wasn’t sure of that until his fingertips glided over the weirdest damn thing ever, something between a rough bump and what he’d swear felt like a tiny cock that throbbed to the beat of Coby’s heart. He rubbed it once, easy then hard, and almost swallowed his tongue when Coby jerked up fit to break his back and fucking howled. Fluid dripped from his dick, but he still hadn’t come that way yet.
No. No way. Darian rubbed him inside again, hard and steady, drinking in the sight Coby made spitted on his fingers, coming in that unfamiliar way again and again, pulse after pulse. There was a whole new addiction, wasn’t there? “What even?” he breathed. “Seriously, man. What?”
Coby drew in deep, air-starved gasps. “The best thing ever, that’s what. I didn’t know Omegas had these. Thought maybe I really was a freak, but I looked it up and we all have them. Not nearly as many know about them as they should, but me? I’m never going to stop playing with it as long as I live.”
Darian couldn’t argue with that -- a tiny internal dick that could make you come like a string of firecrackers without knocking you out for the count? Omegas really had these? All of them? Judas fuck, sex education sucked in Coby’s part of the country. His too, apparently.
Wait, where had he been? Right -- he’d learned his important lesson for the day, but he wasn’t about to let Coby take back over yet. Darian took his fingers out and sucked them clean for the fun of watching Coby shudder with an aftershock, then used his wet hand to set his dick against Coby’s slick-slippery channel, stretched open from both of their playing around in there. Coby drew in a sharp breath and shuddered, legs falling farther open.
Excellent. But for the fun of it, Darian put his mouth to Coby’s ear and growl-purred, “Maybe there’s more than one way to skin a cat. Want to find out?”
“Oh God yes.” Coby clutched at him, from arms to back, dragging Darian down. “And do it right now before I lose my --”
Didn’t have to tell Darian twice, or even once. Darian slid home good and hard, jolting Coby up the sheets. He could feel it, that bit of Coby hidden deep inside, and he knew how to work a good spot with his dick, and neither one of them wanted to hold back. He went
hard, jackhammering him without mercy even if they were both too revved up to last as long as they wanted. Coby wrapped arms and legs around him like an octopus and bit Darian’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood when he came the usual way, a sticky mess between them, his howl muffled by the mouthful. Darian did the same, tasting salt and copper when he burst as deeply as he could get himself, flooding Coby with all he had to give.
His muscles gave way, lax as a puppet whose strings had been cut, and he collapsed on top of Coby. Coby too, going limp and wrung-out and sprawled on the bed.
But he had enough oomph left to take Darian by the neck and kiss him one more time.
Darian landed with his cheek pressed to Coby’s left tit this time, struggling to catch his breath and listening to Coby’s heart slow from pounding-fast to slow and smooth. “What the hell even,” he said, astounded. “You win. You surprised me.”
Coby shook both of them with his laugh, soft and satisfied as it was, and his arms were a languid, lazy weight around Darian’s waist. “One to me,” he said. “You still want that coffee now?”
Coffee? Shit. He’d forgotten. He did still want some, but -- later. So much later.
He had the oddest feeling he’d forgotten something else too, but it disappeared from his mind just as fast.
* * *
The days passed in a series of snapshots, the kinds Darian wanted to keep stored safely in his head, saved in the same compartment where he kept that first time he’d met Coby. What, it was a good place to go when he needed it. He gathered more and kept on picking them up like lucky pennies on the sidewalk and seemed like every day there were more.
For one:
Heading out to classes in the same building and every time someone gave them a weird stare taking Coby’s hand and holding it. Lifting his chin at Coby’s startled glances whenever that happened. Show them you’re not afraid. I know you can do it.
Coby’s big, warm hand folding around his and Coby straightening his back, both of them walking tall.
Another:
Oscar twirled an unlit cigarette between two fingers. Sprawled back on one elbow, he grinned at them in the shit-eating fashion most guaranteed to make Darian want to punch him between the ribs, and somewhere along the way he’d acquired a completely douchebag sailor’s cap that made him look like a wannabe leather daddy.
Darian rolled his eyes. “Go ahead before I have to hit you on general principle, asshole.”
“Since you ask so sweet,” Oscar drawled. “I know you, and I know you’ve got the kind of dick that’d make a grown Alpha weep.”
Darian opened his mouth to answer, but Coby beat him to it. “Thanks for noticing.”
Oscar’s jaw dropped, and Darian couldn’t help falling over, conveniently into Coby’s sturdy bulk, laughing until he nearly pissed himself. He threw his arm around Coby while he was there and kissed the side of his mouth.
“Judas fuck, you two make me sick,” Oscar said with frank admiration. “Okay, so you’re both gifted? Proportional, I’d buy that. So who takes it and who gives it?”
This time, Darian waited for it, and Coby rose to the occasion. “I’ll answer that if you can guess who the size queen is.”
Goddamn. Darian couldn’t have been prouder of him.
Another:
“No. You have my voucher, and you know it’s valid.” Coby slammed his tray down, glaring at that same old cafeteria dickhead who just didn’t learn. “I’m not taking what you feel like giving. Not even when you grow a dick and learn how to use it. You don’t scare me.”
Had Darian thought before he couldn’t be prouder? Coby kept on surprising him. Talk about unleashing the beast.
He liked it.
The fact that the meatballs in the spaghetti were a little off and Coby hurled them back up after the first two bites kinda took the shine off, but the way he grinned at Darian through the grossest mouth ever, that Darian would not be kissing until after some serious mouthwash, brought the satisfaction right back.
He liked that too.
And another:
Walking down the sidewalk, hands laced together, people getting used to it now even if they did still put off waves of WTF and catching sight of Nutcracker Jaw kissing a very pretty, very pregnant Omega against the side of the admin building. Noticing Nutcracker noticing him and Coby and giving them a nod of approval that wasn’t nearly as subtle as he probably imagined. Plus an absolutely unsubtle caress of his Omega’s belly when he turned back to the business at hand.
Watching them, the weirdest pang zapped across Darian’s chest that he had to massage away. He thought he caught Coby rubbing his own stomach, absently, as they both stopped to enjoy the view, but he might have been mistaken about that.
Or the bottomless pit needed feeding after the meatballs that didn’t stick.
And another:
Doing laundry. So much laundry. Splashing each other with the lakes left in the machines when they didn’t spin, shouting and swearing at the shock of the cold water, then going back to their room to warm up in the shower together.
And another:
“Swear to God, you two really do make me sick,” Oscar said. Not with admiration this time. More like envy.
Interesting.
And another:
Deciding to deconstruct the twin beds, boards in one corner and mattresses plus box springs pushed together to make one bigger bed in the middle of the floor.
“As often as we end up there anyway, it makes more sense,” Coby had said, red-faced from exertion and grinning like an idiot. For which Darian had first kissed him because he was turning into a Goddamned sap that way, and then tackled him onto their DIY queen-size to test it out.
Those horrible springs still made a racket.
He didn’t really care.
And one more:
Feeling, more and more, day by day, like this was where he belonged. Darian didn’t examine that one too closely. It couldn’t happen for keeps, right? But he could let it float past, every now and then, and breathe it in when that happened. Then let it go where it wanted.
And so:
Darian didn’t sleep much better at nights but that wasn’t new; he drank more coffee than water, studied until his head hurt, and spent the rest of his time fucking that sweet Omega like he’d just hit puberty. If you wanted to play, you had to pay.
Fine by him. He had those flashes back to lull himself to sleep with, and he learned how to lie still enough that his tossing and turning didn’t inspire Coby to kick him out of the bed.
Not a bad deal.
* * *
Until:
Someone pounded on their door around -- what the fuck, four thirty in the afternoon -- waking Darian up. As long as it wasn’t before eight a.m. Darian wouldn’t get too pissed off unless he was buried balls-deep in Coby or enjoying a snooze after enjoying said balls-deepness. He snarled under his breath as he untangled himself from Coby’s too-many-miles of legs and arms and stomped to see who the fuck and what the fuck.
When he opened the door, no one stood on the other side, but a folded piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Darian glowered down the hall at what looked like an underclassman roped into doing the job moved at a rapid clip, knocking and jamming papers into door jambs.
“This couldn’t wait?” he yelled, waving the paper. “You couldn’t shove it under the door like a sane person?”
The underclassman flinched and started moving faster.
Coby chuckled sleepily behind him. “You’re getting a reputation.”
Darian glanced over his shoulder to see Coby hadn’t gotten out of bed, and wasn’t really even awake yet, rubbing his eyes. He looked stupidly cute like that, far more so than any man had a right to. Even an Omega. “Good,” he said as he unfolded the paper. He frowned at it, then cocked his head in low-key interest. “Huh. Fourth of July, fireworks display tonight. I’d forgotten what date it was. You?”
Coby made a sleepy noise and flipped the covers back over his h
ead.
Darian switched his frown from the paper to Coby. Seemed like he never could wake up properly the last few days. Maybe he needed more rest than Darian had been giving him, but he wasn’t the only one making that happen.
Still. He should work on that.
He needed to work on coffee first, though. So much coffee. Darian shambled to the kitchenette, still a little clumsy with leftover drowsiness, and flicked it on. The sweet, sweet smell of caffeinated happy juice flooded the room, as dark a roast as he could legally buy. He breathed deeply in appreciation and waved a cloud of the smell toward Coby.
That should have worked. Instead Coby groaned and shoved his head under his pillow. “Open the window, would you? That’s too strong.”
Darian’s frown deepened into a concerned scowl. “You love coffee.”
“Oh God, don’t say that word.” Coby pressed the pillow over his face. “I’ll throw up.”
What the… Okay, not making any sense, but -- leftover food poisoning? Darian shrugged and slid the window up. Coby’d set up a fan that could blow air in or out as they wanted, and he pointed it outward. There was enough coffee in the pot for one cup, anyway, and that shit would put hair on a hairless cat’s chest, so it’d do. He stood at the window to drink it but kept his focus on Coby. “Have you eaten today?”
Coby muttered something under his pillow, not likely to be a compliment, and flipped him off.
Darian snorted. He hadn’t lost all his spirit while he slept. Good.
After a minute, Coby tossed the pillow aside, but his eyes were red and puffy, and he looked halfway between comatose and dead. He scrubbed at his face. “Not hungry.”
“The fuck?” Darian asked, nonplussed. “Since when?”
All Coby did was shrug.
So, he guessed they wouldn’t be going to dinner. Darian chewed that over. Hungry or not, a man Coby’s size burned through a hell of a lot of calories walking through an average day. Well, they’d laid in a few supplies to keep from spending their last cents on delivery food. Maybe something mild. He found the bread, decided against toasting it, and smeared the super-mild strawberry jam Coby liked on two pieces. Stuffing one piece in his mouth, he carried the second one to Coby and waved it under his nose. “Still not hungry.”