“Yeah, I’m sure.” Myrick had reservations, but in that moment his entire body craved comfort and contact with someone he trusted. That someone was Tristan, his body knew that even if his mind was trying to find a reason for it to not be so. “It’s you.” Tristan paused for another long moment and, after some small internal struggle, heaved a resigned sigh and eased himself next to Myrick, sitting at the edge of the bed. Without thinking, Myrick leaned against his shoulder, continuing to sip at his tea. “I don’t mean to send mixed signals,” Myrick said, almost petulantly. “But my body makes them all mixed, so I don’t know what to do or what I want half the time. You shouldn’t have to put up with that. I care about you too much to want that for you.”

“Have I mentioned how utterly charming I thought you were before now?” It was clear from the way Tristan said it that he had simply blurted it out, most likely against his better judgment, most likely from feeling the need to say something after staring for so long. For a moment, Myrick froze, staring in minute shock at the Alpha, though the fact that Tristan was interested was not surprising—though he had been respectful and not pushed anything onto Myrick, he hadn’t exactly been subtle about his feelings, he supposed, though even that was something of an understatement. Though hearing Tristan voice those feelings made them more than just some ephemeral thing conjured from some drunkenness and a heat he hadn't expected. Seemingly needing to continue, to clarify, Tristan went on, hands clenching and flattening at his sides as he did so. “Because I was about to say how you were being so utterly endearing, but I realize that's awful fucking rude of me and that it might make it sound like I’m only wanting to be with you because you’re an Omega or that I’m just saying it now because you’re in heat. That's so not the case, but I’m just so relieved that you’re all right and—” he blinked, seeming surprised with himself. “I’m…I’m rambling, sorry.”

“I didn’t mind it,” Myrick let out a quiet laugh. The hole where all of his gnawing fear and anxiety had been before was steadily being filled with a sense of giddiness and longing he couldn’t quell. While his emotional rollercoaster had taken a sharp turn, he was far from displeased about where it was going. “Still don’t, really.”

“I could probably gush for an hour about how I admire and respect your hard work and determination, and that I love the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you’re passionate about, and I—” Once again Tristan cut himself off, smiling wryly. “I nearly did it again. Right, gotta stop doing that.” He snorted. “Still, I don’t want to make you feel cornered. I mean, yeah, this whole, ‘you’re in heat’ thing is affecting me.” He spared a glance down at the sizeable bulge in the front of his basketball shorts, thick and pulsing. “I can’t really pretend that your scent doesn’t drive me absolutely up a fucking wall, but I’m not gonna force myself on you in any way—no one deserves to be used that way. If you don’t want this, then I can respect that. I’ll leave now, and we can remain friends and colleagues.”

It was a straightforward confession, one that left no room for misunderstanding or doubt, but it was exactly what he had come to expect from Tristan…and hoped for, after a time. The thought of being tied down to someone that could hurt him still made him feel sick, doubly so given the ordeal he had just been through. That wasn’t what Tristan was offering, and he had to remind himself of that. He realized he had taken a few moments too long, just long enough for Tristan to begin to doubt, and forced his voice to work.

“I do!” He set his cup down and practically lunged to take hold of the Alpha’s much larger, rougher hand imploringly. Tristan flinched, and Myrick looked down in alarm, only just noticing Tristan’s knuckles were swollen—and a few of them were likely broken—and gasped, softening his grip.

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Tristan said, trying to move his hand away.

Myrick held fast, his grip only just tight enough to keep Tristan’s hand in his without squeezing. When Tristan didn’t resist, Myrick took his time inspecting them, turning his hands over to measure the extent of the injuries. Hands that had not even twenty minutes ago been pulverizing his would-be assailant with righteous fury were now clamming up in insecurity—an insecurity he had put there and now had to correct.

“You’re hurt.” Myrick flushed, feeling stupid for stating the obvious. “We should do something about this—we could tape them up.”

“I’m all right, Myrick.” Tristan was trying to sound reassuring, and yeah, maybe this wasn’t anything important to Tristan but it was important to Myrick, and he resolved to try and help him fix it, at least a little.

“I want to help you—please.” Myrick implored, looking up at him. Tristan looked at him for a long moment before his expression softened. Tristan nodded his head, and Myrick scrambled for a first aid kit that he kept in the bathroom. There was some medical tape there, a fresh roll of it that he could use to secure Tristan’s hand and help him heal. He grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton ball as well—there were some parts of his skin that had broken open, he should help clean that up, too. His attention zeroed in on the need to help the Alpha. “You’ve done so much for me,” Myrick insisted as he scrambled back into his nest. “Please, let me return the favor.”

He didn’t wait for Tristan to respond, instead dabbing the disinfectant onto the cotton ball and began to carefully clean the blood and cuts on Tristan’s hands. Tristan hissed in pain, but Myrick paid it no mind—all he wanted was to make Tristan better. With Tristan’s hands cleaned and already looking a lot less gruesome, Myrick took one of his hands and began to wrap the tape between Tristan’s fingers, doubling the tape over his knuckles, and securing the tape around his palm.

“You’ve done this before.” Tristan commented softly to break the silence. Myrick nodded without looking up.

“I’m not much of a fighter, but I’ve had to defend myself before.” He shrugged. “You learn how to bandage yourself up eventually.” They lapsed into silence as Myrick taped Tristan’s other hand as well. Once the task was complete, Myrick set the tape off to the side and just sat there, holding Tristan’s hands, skimming his thumbs across the taped knuckles. He realized he hadn’t expounded on what he said before he noticed Tristan’s injury, so he swallowed his nerves and continued, “I mean, I do…I do want this…want you. I’ve been attracted to you for a while. Please don’t think it’s the heat talking or anything,” he all but begged, though winced when he realized that, while his words were true, he should probably clarify, “I mean, the heat is making me want to say stuff and do things now rather than later, but I’m okay with that because it’s you and you...” he tapered off, voice growing quiet. “You make me feel human.” When a response from Tristan was not forthcoming, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and looked up to meet his gaze.

“I need to know, before I do anything at all, that you’re sure about this. About me.” Tristan bit his lip, all of the confidence he had displayed the past few weeks of Myrick knowing him evaporating in the wake of uncertainty. “I need to know that you won’t regret it, because once we start this, I can’t promise that I’ll be able to stop.”

“Are you sure about me, though?” Myrick answered Tristan’s question with one of his own. His fever was still making his thoughts swim, but he forced himself into some semblance of cohesion; the Alpha deserved that much, at least. “I can’t even try to pretend that being with me would be easy. Not even a little. It's been...” he ticked off the years in his mind. “It's been almost ten years since I've been in any kind of romantic relationship, and even then it was with a Beta in the middle of college. I’ve only dated one Alpha for maybe a month or so, but I’ve never been bonded before. I'd,” he swallowed. “I'd forgotten what it felt like to be wanted like this. I don’t think I’ve ever even felt this…this want for someone the way I want you.” He looked up into those captivating eyes, stormy and dark with emotions he couldn't place because of their rapid shifting in the sliver of iris that was still visible around the Alpha’s blown-out pupils. Still, the storm settled, and his eyes cleared. “Snuggling in my nest with you after I was nearly assaulted was…not how I thought things would go between us, I’ll admit. Now this is all...” he gestured vaguely in the air with one hand. “It's all happening much faster than I thought it would. And to be honest, I thought it would never happen to begin with.”

“I'll be honest here,” Tristan said softly, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve never been in a long-term relationship—not one that’s ever lasted longer than a few months here or there, at least.” He looked down at their entwined hands, the way his bandaged hands engulfed Myrick’s smaller ones. “Any time I thought I could get serious with someone, it would turn out that they were just using me for their own pleasure, or some other thing they could get out of me, or so I could protect them and it's just,” he sucked in a breath. “I have...I want...” He heaved a sigh as he grappled with what he wanted to say for a moment. Though seeing him so uncertain and wavering was alarming, Myrick didn’t press him, simply stroked his thumbs along the roughened skin of his hands.

“Just what?” He prodded after another long moment.

Tristan looked back over to him. “...I want it all. I want to have that physical and emotional intimacy with someone that will stick around. I'm…kinda an all or nothing sort of guy, I’m sure you’ve realized.” He swallowed heavily. “I can go slow, if that's what you need. It'll be weird, for me, but I'd be fine with that. I haven't connected with someone like this so quickly…ever. I want to see where things lead with you because this feels right, but...” He looked back up at him. “I just want you to understand that even if we take things slow, I'm playing for the long term. I'm hoping on forever—I do it every time.”

Myrick let out a slow breath and nodded his head before he could think it over; he was done thinking about this, he'd decided. It was better to act, to see where the pieces fell after.

Tristan continued, “And just because you’re in heat doesn’t mean I have to mark you now—I wouldn’t want to rush that anyway. That doesn’t mean we can’t still be together though. If nothing else, I want to help you through this.”

If Myrick hadn’t been staring at his face as Tristan looked away again, he wouldn’t have noticed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, but saw it and melted at how completely charming and thoughtful Tristan was.

“I don't need slow for this,” Myrick said, surprised by the surety he had behind that statement, and how comfortable he was with its terms. “I’ll probably need slow for…for the relationship stuff, but this? Just…just sex? I’m ready for this. I've put everything I've ever wanted in my personal life on hold because I believed I had to in order to be safe. But what good has it done me? I’m miserable, and all my relationships have suffered, romantic or not. It’ll take me some time, but I'm…I want to be done with slow—I have to be done with slow eventually, or nothing will ever happen at all.” He hesitated, then with a shaky breath, he added, “That doesn't mean I don't want something that lasts with you, because I do. I want that so badly I don’t think I can put it into words.” He squared his shoulders. “I guess I’m trying to say...I'm in. All of me. If that's what you want.” He looked up at Tristan, at the way his whole body seemed to go slack, along with his grip on his control. And yet…Myrick wasn’t afraid. Not this time.

“Seems we’re both ready for this.” Tristan said, and Myrick could feel his voice rumbling in his own chest for how deep of a growl it had become. It made him vibrate to his core, and he squirmed against the wetness that began to gather at his entrance. He gathered himself and nodded, steeling himself against his own nerves and what lingering doubts and fears he might have had. Deep down in his soul, he knew this felt right, more right than anything had before this moment, and he wasn’t going to let his demons chase Tristan away. Not this time. Not again.

“Well, then.” There it was—that drop in his stomach, that last moment at the top of the hill on this emotional rollercoaster before he took the fall, where he plummeted down a pitfall that made his heart jump in his throat and set every one of his nerves on fire with crackling energy. It was almost like his body was warning him that this was his last chance to back out, but he was done running from this, from what he was feeling. “We’re just wasting time waiting around, aren’t we?”

“That’s very true, Myrick,” Tristan let out a low, soft laugh, and something about the relief in his chuckle unfurled the tangled emotions that had twisted and tightened in Myrick's chest as the Alpha—his Alpha—leaned closer to him, closer than he had ever let anyone get before now. “Very true.” Before either of them could overthink it, before he had the chance to stress himself into believing this would end like all the other Alphas he had ever gotten even remotely close to, Myrick fisted a handful of Tristan’s shirt, pulled him down with a firm tug, and pressed a quiet, soft kiss to Tristan's mouth. The taller man let out a sigh and all but melted at the display of affection, and the Omega fought against the urge to squirm against him when he felt his large, rough hands shyly stroke at his hips, at the waistband of his pajama pants, silently asking for more. He wasn't sure what to make of it, save for the thundering in his chest and the fissure of heat that shot through him.

He was in the midst of his heat, at what should be his peak, the frantic need to rut and be knotted was supposed to be at its worst and yet, in the wake of the careful, attentive affection, that instinctual need for mating quieted in the face of another need he had neglected all his life finally being fulfilled: belonging, affection, and a sense of safety with someone that settled in his chest right where it had always had a spot. They shared soft, breathless kisses for longer than either of them kept track of, and all that broke them apart was the sudden, desperate clawing at Tristan’s clothes from Myrick when all of the primal urges in him made themselves known again, the frantic need to feel the Alpha’s scorching skin against his own, to feel their heartbeats fall in time with one another.

They needed to be connected.

Now.

A sudden gleam of wicked amusement flickered over Tristan's eyes for the briefest of moments, a spark that lit the flame of arousal that burned in his eyes as he shifted, his arm coming around Myrick and leaning them both over so Myrick was lying back against the cushions and pillows he’d tossed together to make his nest. Myrick drank in the sight of Tristan outside his business suit, not accustomed to seeing him wearing so little that nearly every rippling muscle the man had was exposed, his olive skin glowing in the soft light of the side table’s lamp.

Not to be outdone, or to let his cowardice stay his hand, Myrick tugged the larger man back down into another kiss, heated with the tension that had been between them since their first meeting, a tightness in his chest he had been trying so hard to ignore. Myrick keened, hands grabbing at his tank top, trying to get it off of him while losing himself in Tristan’s large, gentle hands stroking his midsection lightly. The tension snapped the second their lips met, and suddenly they couldn't get enough of one another, it seemed; there were frenetic touches, gentle but urgent, and skimming along heated skin.

The Omega felt his Alpha tremble against him, shuddering with want and need and blindly thrusting against him even though they were both still clothed, seeking friction. The contact was enough for Myrick to get a good, thorough feel of Tristan’s thick erection against his thigh. It was long and scorching, and Myrick squirmed against him, desperate to feel every inch of Tristan inside of him, stretching him until he split apart on his cock, if that was what it took to feel all of him inside of him.

“I'm guessing,” Tristan panted heavily when Myrick’s hand found him in the scant space between them, palming as much of his cock as he could get his hand around, “you think you’re ready for this?” He growled. “Ready for me?”

Myrick’s shyness overtook him, and he buried his face in the crook of Tristan’s neck. “I'm…I mean, I can take it, but...” He keened and rocked his hips against Tristan's thigh again. “I just…I need you.”

Tristan chuckled darkly as he pressed a kiss into the skin of his exposed neck. “I'm happy to oblige—though we should get you more comfortable.” He sat up, large hands gripping Myrick's firm, pert buttocks and lifting him up with him off of the bed and into his lap. The Omega wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, eagerly taking the change in position to nip at his pulse point. “Someday, when you’re ready...” Their heated erections, still fully clothed but no less sensitive, brushed against one another, and for a moment, Tristan nearly lost himself in the sensation but recovered his wits enough to growl. “When you’re ready...this is where I’ll put my mark.” He lathered his tongue against the point of Myrick’s neck, near his scent gland, and breathed in his scent deeply as his teeth teased the spot. Myrick arched his hips, crying out at the thought of when that day would come, and what it would mean. He kept his arms around his neck even after Tristan shuffled them over to the center of the nest and set him gently down on the plush mattress, reluctant to let him pull away just yet. That was just as well—they were far too dressed for this occasion at this point anyway, and Tristan was steadily getting more and more drunk off Myrick’s scent.

Tristan's shirt had been half way pulled up his back from Myrick’s wandering, groping hands, and though Myrick ogled more of the man’s muscle than he had ever been able to before, it wasn’t enough; he wanted more, he wanted to see all of him. His Alpha complied, parting from him just enough to slip it off of himself and shuck it behind him, unconcerned with wherever it landed. It didn’t matter, and it was one less thing between them now.

His hand slid beneath the waistband of Myrick’s pajama pants, but stopped when he felt his Omega freeze beneath him. His focus was already centered on Myrick, but he pulled back entirely, seemingly worried this was too much too soon for him, and he needed to stop.

Myrick blinked up at him, and he realized that he was only stressing the Alpha out over nothing more than his naturally skittish nature.

“I'm all right,” he swallowed, hands reaching out to guide Tristan’s large ones back to his hips. “I’m a little shy, but it’s alright—keep going, Alpha.”

Tristan growled in pleasure, hands smoothing beneath the slicked fabric of Myrick’s pajama pants and sliding them off, shucking them away and returning back to Myrick’s body, lavishing open-mouthed kisses on his thighs on his way up, dark eyes never leaving his Omega’s as he charted a course back up to him.

“You're gorgeous,” Tristan whispered earnestly, stalking back up his body and pressing a kiss to Myrick's lean chest, the soft curve of his neck, back up to his mouth.

“And you're—” Myrick swallowed. “You’re too dressed.” He let out a faint noise, mewling with want against his Alpha’s mouth as he felt him shimmy out of his basketball shorts and kick them out of the nest. Now…now there was nothing between them but their body heat, and their carnal desires, and so they lingered in the moment, letting themselves get lost in feeling each other's heated skin against their own. They were still so desperate and greedy for one another that even all their grinding wasn't enough at that point, because they weren’t fully connected yet.

Myrick bit his lip as Tristan pulled back and shuffled himself backward a few inches, and his back left the bed from how deeply he arched against Tristan’s thick fingers teasing his sopping entrance, their eyes never leaving one another as Tristan leaned down and kissed his Omega once more.

“A-Alpha!” Myrick wailed, bucking his hips against the pad of his lover’s finger, frantically trying to get him to slip it inside of him so his throbbing, aching heat could clench around something, anything, and his hands clawed at him desperately. Tristan hummed, his free hand coming up to coax Myrick into stilling. “Tristan—Alpha—please, I need to!” He whimpered when he tried in vain to wriggle against the hand gently but firmly holding his hips in place.

“Patience, Omega,” he growled, and though Myrick whimpered, he stayed as still as he could against the stimulation. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” Tristan cooed, finally slipping his finger inside of him. Myrick let out an undignified sob as he finally felt something solid and alive inside of him, and knew he would effectively be ruined for his toy after this, especially once Tristan gave him what he was really begging for. “You’ll get what you want, I promise. But I need to make sure you’re ready for it.” Even in the haze of his heat, Myrick couldn’t argue with the fact, much as he wanted to.

None of this was happening quite how they had imagined it. Tristan wasn’t the overwhelming, overpowering force of a top that Myrick had envisioned all Alphas to be in his mind; he didn’t sweep him off his feet in seconds, and it wasn’t all giggles, passion, and nail marks against the skin as they frantically rutted as quickly as they could. In fact…Tristan was courteous and conscientious, and they were both nervous for this. Excited, a little more than half in love, delirious with the reality of it all, and overwhelmed by each other’s scent and Myrick’s heat, but it all culminated into this perfectly imperfect sensation that only served to ground them both in the fact that this was real, and it was really happening.

There was an anticipated tremble in Tristan's fingers as he added two more of them inside of Myrick, gently prodding and swirling around the tight whorl of muscle there. Myrick tried to angle himself to get him to move them, eager for more, but Tristan was meticulous and careful, wanting to ensure that Myrick was more than ready to take the full brunt of his cock inside him. He began to spread his fingers inside of his lover, slowly, carefully at first. Tears sprang forth in Myrick’s eyes as his jaw slackened into a silent cry, hands clutching at the sheets beneath him hard enough to tear at it if he had longer nails.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Tristan’s voice rumbled, a grin tugging at his lips as he spread Myrick wider. “You can barely handle my fingers stretching you.”

“Yes!” Myrick sobbed openly, his head nodding frantically. “I haven't—it’s never felt like—oh, ohhh, right there, Alpha, yes,” he hissed as Tristan began to pump his fingers rhythmically inside of him, stretching and slacking in time with the thrusts. “M-more, please, Tristan, Alpha, need to feel you, please!”

“That’s it, fuck my fingers, Omega, show me you’re really ready for me.” Tristan growled, removing his hand from Myrick’s hip and letting him move finally. His Omega didn’t need to be told twice, hips undulating and writhing as he kept his fingers inside of him. Tristan marveled as he watched the ecstasy light up Myrick’s features as he slowly stretched his fingers inside of him wider, loosening him up, and getting him ready for his cock. In this moment, he looked almost delicately wanton, soft features all aglow, mouth forming the most perfect pout, cheeks dusted in a soft blush, flushed from his careful attentions, and eyes glimmering and glassy with want so intense he couldn’t hold his thoughts together.

He looked stunning.

Tristan pulled his fingers away suddenly, and before Myrick could protest, he was gently lifted just high enough to push further back into the pillows lining his nest, his legs being adjusted to splay across Tristan’s thick, muscled thighs. He lined the engorged tip of his cock at Myrick’s entrance, and his Omega mewled at the heat it emitted and tried to rock his hips so it could sink into him but Tristan stilled him, thumbs rubbing circles into his hip bones. Myrick tossed his head to the side and whined, his heat making him delirious with the desire to feel himself be split upon his Alpha’s manhood.

“God, please, please, Tristan—I need you, please, Alpha, I need you inside me, oh fuck, Alpha, please,” Myrick’s nails dug into his own thighs as he looked up at his Alpha, gazing up at him with eyes that seemed too bright, too open for Tristan to know how to look at them properly.

“I could get used to hearing you beg,” Tristan admitted, and Myrick arched and writhed as best as he could with his legs draped over Tristan’s thighs, already riding a special kind of high from what Tristan was doing to him. And yet, even with how hot and bothered he was, Myrick felt acutely aware of how he must have looked, utterly debauched and mewling and wanton. And so very, very desperate for Tristan to comply with his pleas and satisfy them both until neither of them could move for the rest of the day. Myrick’s face burned, but Tristan wasn’t done teasing him, and continued, “And I might draw more out of you—later.” He shifted, pressing just hard enough that there was some pressure against the tight ring of muscle at Myrick’s entrance without actually breaching him. Myrick whined, his hips stuttering in vain to try and spur his Alpha into moving. “Right now, I’m more concerned about drawing something else entirely from you and draining you until you have nothing left in you.”

“Tristan,” Myrick whined, but Tristan seemed to pay it no mind, choosing instead to lean over him and press the head of his pulsing erection right where Myrick had been begging for it to go in the first place, finally pushing his head inside of him. His Omega sobbed in relief at finally feeling what his body had craved for the better part of today, the first step in the process to feeling some sense of satisfaction out of this heat that had consumed his every thought, his every feeling.

Tristan clenched his teeth and looked like he was trying to hold back, but he still took his time, easing himself in inch by inch, gasping when Myrick's walls tightly closed and clenched around him, and when his hips finally rested flush against his lover’s wriggling ones he paused, panting.

“Give me a second,” Tristan ground out, though Myrick knew it was for his benefit and not Tristan’s, giving Myrick time to adjust around his girth. Myrick, for his part, gasped and wriggled against him to try and coax him to move. Tristan had to bring one hand to his hip to hold him still. “Wait, wait, careful, lover.” he hissed as Myrick clenched around him again, this time deliberately in an effort to get him to move. “Take your time, Omega, and just let yourself adjust around me.” Myrick wasn’t having any of it, thrusting his hips up as best as he could to try and get some friction going between them. “Myrick, easy, it’s a lot to take in—”

“I don't need to—I can take it, Alpha. I can handle it, I swear,” the flustered Omega writhed, head tossing back and forth. “For the love of God, please, Tristan, please move oh, God I need to feel you move inside me.” Face aflame at the utterly, shamelessly lewd things tumbling out of his mouth, Myrick turned his head and dragged an arm over his eyes, presumably to hide his embarrassment.

It seemed as though Tristan would have none of it, gently coaxing the arm away so he could properly look at his lover, lacing their fingers together and guiding his lover’s hand to rest on his hip to better stabilize him.

“Omega,” he growled in an authoritative tone. Myrick snapped his gaze to him, turning his head fully and regarding him with his wide, glassy eyes. “Myrick, don't hide from me. I want to see you,” he rocked his hips, growling when Myrick’s channel locked around him. Myrick, for his part, felt so utterly full of the Alpha, stretched delectably and in just the right way. “I want you to to tell me everything you want. All of it.” Myrick gasped as Tristan gave a shallow thrust. “I want to know what drives you wild.” Even in the midst of trying to be a careful and attentive lover, he started to move, seemingly unable to fight off his instincts forever. He started off easy, likely to work his lover into the full force of him bit by bit, small rocking motions that barely pulled him from the slick heat of Myrick's tight, soaked channel.

“Tristan, Alpha, oh fuck, you're so thick...” Myrick panted, jaw dropping at how full he felt with his Alpha buried inside of him to the hilt. “Please, more, more, Alpha, I can’t! I can’t!” Ohh…” he gasped, hands flailing in search of purchase—in the mattress, in Tristan, in himself, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he had something to anchor him in the moment, something to keep him centered as he rode his heat out.

In response, Tristan dropped kisses along his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, and ending on his forehead as he encouraged him to move against him, helping him find the rhythm they could both keep up. Myrick pulled Tristan’s face down to his, kissing him messily as they began to rock in time with one another. Tristan’s cock was pulsing, throbbing inside of Myrick and hitting his prostate over and over again. The bundle of nerves was already overly sensitive, too stimulated from Myrick’s earlier solo escapades, and the swollen head of Tristan’s manhood pounding against it over and over again was almost more than he knew what to do with.

“How do you want it?” Tristan managed to moan into Myrick’s ear with a nuzzle as he reached a hand between them to wrap around his lover's neglected cock, still slicked with lubricant and Myrick’s own beads of precum adding to the slickness of it.

“Deeper. Ah, ah! Alpha, faster, please!” Tristan pulled out almost entirely, with only his head still inside before he slammed back inside fully, and Myrick screamed in pleasure. “Tristan, Alpha, God, yes, more, you feel so good!” His last word was drawn out in a raspy coo, voice rough from the screams of ecstasy tumbling from his lips, and he rolled his hips fluidly up to meet his Alpha's as his hand began to lazily pump his own erect cock.

The last of Tristan’s control was consumed in Myrick’s heat, and suddenly the Alpha was only too happy to oblige his pleas, quickening his pace and rocking his hips harder against his lover’s, giving into the desires they both felt and stoking the flames of their passion. Before long, it began to smell like sex, smell of the two of them and their pheromones, and it only served to heighten their arousal as they drank one another in fully.

Soon their tempo was abandoned in favor of frenetic rutting, desperate clutching together, hands gripping wherever they could find purchase. Myrick was reduced to a whining and writhing mess, soft cries spilling from his kiss-swollen lips as his fever reached its peak. “Oh, Tristan, Alpha, Alpha, faster, yes, yes! Y-you're—!” He gasped, arching his hips as he came with a cry, his walls clenching around his Alpha and milking him for his own orgasm.

Tristan howled as Myrick’s channel convulsed around him as he came. Tristan slid up his lover’s stomach to toy with his nipples, first circling the darkened flesh around the pebbled nubs before finally brushing the rigid peaks, earning a sharp gasp from Myrick. He looked down to see his wide, dilated eyes burning into him with that glassy, heated gaze that set Tristan’s blood on fire. Myrick’s back arched into him, and Tristan rewarded him by circling his tongue over the nipple again and again, then swirling it around the taut peak before sucking on it in time with his thrusts. His hand tweaked and pinched the neglected nipple, ensuring they were both overly sensitized and ripping harsh cries from Myrick’s throat.

“Tristan… Alpha…Tristan, Tristan,” Myrick chanted his lover’s name like a prayer. “Please. Please, God, please, I—I can’t stop!” Myrick’s dick was still dribbling cum, still shuddering and spasming with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Tristan grinned at the desperation in his voice. The thrill of having reduced his Omega to a quivering pile of overstimulated limbs, of being the one to bring him to such a state was nearly enough to undo him right then and there, but he sucked a quick breath to try and ground himself, to stabilize himself so he didn’t tip over the precipice of his own pleasure—much as he wanted to knot inside his mate and feel his own release wash over him, he wanted it to last as long as he could make it. His lover felt too good, his orgasms were nearly overwhelming, but he wanted to just stay inside him forever at that point.

But it wasn’t nearly enough.

None of it was.

“Please, please, Tristan, Alpha, please,” Myrick begged, eyes squeezed shut against the sensation of his lover’s engorged manhood pounding into him wildly, with reckless abandon. Unable to resist the temptation, Tristan bent his head down into the crook of Myrick’s neck, his canines nipping at the skin just at the edge of his scent gland, and the effect was almost instantaneous; Myrick threw his head back and screamed, surely loud enough for half of the town to hear, and rocked his hips against Tristan’s so they crashed together in a harsh, wet slap every time.

“Look at me, Myrick, look at me,” Tristan pleaded, a hand coming up to cup Myrick’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone to coax him into complying. “I need to see you, Myrick, please.” A groan from some deep corner of his soul spilled out when Myrick’s entrance clenched around his swollen cock. “I need to see you when I knot inside you.” Myrick’s eyes snapped open and found his through the tears his pleasure and overstimulation had wrung out of him. Tristan eased his cock past the ring of muscle at Myrick’s entrance, sliding in with little resistance. He reached out to grasp his Omega’s hand, lacing their fingers together while the other hand splayed over his hip, something to ground his lover while he worked toward his own release, which was approaching faster than he knew what to do with. All he knew was he didn’t have any more strength in him to fight it.

“Tristan, yes, yes, give me your knot, please, please let me feel it. I need it so bad, oh God, Tristan!” His lover’s wails were the last thing it took to snap the tightly wound coil in his belly, and Tristan came with a harsh sob, hunching over Myrick’s trembling form as he shuddered, short, deep thrusts stuttering against Myrick as he emptied himself into him. Myrick mewled as he felt the hot jets of his seed filling him, and he rocked into it. “Oh, yes, yes, so good,” he cooed, weeping softly as he orgasmed a second time, clenching even tighter around Tristan’s cock. As the last of his semen emptied into his lover, Tristan pushed himself in deeper, all the way to the hilt, just in time for his knot to swell at the base of his manhood, locking them together. “Tristan!” Myrick wept as he spurted cum pitifully out of his reddened cock between them, the stimulation more than he knew what to do with and exactly what he wanted all at once.

Tristan barely managed to stop himself from collapsing onto Myrick’s chest, shifting over so they were both lying on their sides, still connected from the knot that tied them together. He struggled to gulp in enough air around the great, heaving breaths torn from him as he came down from his high. Even if he could remove himself from his lover at this point, every part of him demanded he stay buried as deeply inside of his lover as he physically could. He wrapped an arm around Myrick, pressing his back into his broad chest, the sheen of sweat coating both of them, cooling on their skin. Myrick was still trembling against him, whimpering with every shift that tugged and clenched around the knot.

“Talk to me, Myrick,” Tristan said softly, running his broad hand through the mop of chestnut locks in an effort to soothe him. “Are you all right? How are you feeling?”

“I’m,” he heard his Omega gulp audibly. “I’m all right, just a little lightheaded.” His words were slurred a bit, just enough to tell Tristan he was still feeling the effects of his orgasms. He breathed out a low, tired note. “I…I still want more, somehow. Somehow, my body is still not happy with that, even if it was absolutely incredible.” They shared a chuckle, and Tristan pressed kisses along his Omega’s slender back.

“I’m happy to oblige, once I can do more than just sit here,” he rocked his hips a little deeper against Myrick’s, coaxing a mewl out of his Omega. “Though I’m gonna ask that you drink some water before we go again, all right?” He leaned as much as he could with his knot still inside of him. “You lost an alarming amount of fluid back there.”

“I didn’t lose it,” Myrick said dryly. “It’s still here. Everywhere.” There was a pause. “Think you could hand me one of those hand towels on the nightstand?” They were both silent for a moment before they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Morning could wait, they agreed, and they lost themselves in one another.

Tonight was all theirs.