36. Seth
The pain started two hours after he swallowed the medication. It started as a faint twinge but rapidly grew so intense Seth could see his abdominal muscles cramping with his own eyes, like some kind of Charlie horse. He groaned, trying to push past the pain enough to think straight. He opened his drawer, grabbing the painkillers he kept there, swallowing double the recommended dose.
Saint stirred but didn’t awaken. His expression was pinched into a permanent grimace, one arm on the pillow above his head, the other flung outward from where Seth had fallen asleep on it. He sat there on the edge of the bed, looking down at his alpha. Should he try to go back to sleep? When they both woke, they’d both be on the same page.
If Saint woke now, he might ask questions, or at least one question: why had Seth’s heat come on out of nowhere? And Seth would have to tell him. He’d planned to tell him…at some point, like when they had gotten back to the room.
But the moment the door had closed behind them, Saint had stripped him naked and fucked him up against the door, his back plastered against the cold wood and his knees over Saint’s elbows. When they’d finished, he’d been too knot-drunk to think straight. They’d passed out tied together.
He should sleep. That was the smart thing to do. Before he could lie back down, another cramp had him doubling over, and he bit back a whimper as he tried to breathe through it. He stayed like that until the knife-sharp pain dulled enough for him to think again.
He sat there, breathing heavy, drenched in a cold sweat, the frigid air conditioning making his skin clammy. He glanced down at the bed and the pool of slick there. Something was missing. He gasped, shooting to his feet. His nest. He needed a nest. He couldn’t go through his whole heat without one. Saint probably already thought he was a subpar omega just from his last attempt at building one.
The thought lanced through him, making it hard to breathe. Saint would never tell Seth he thought he was inferior even if it were true. He was good to him like that. Seth’s eyes filled with tears as he stared down at the alpha. He wasn’t faring much better than Seth. The sheets beneath him were soaked in sweat, and the room was thick with buttered rum and alpha pheromones.
When Saint woke up, he’d be in full rut.
They needed a nest now. Seth rushed to the laundry basket in the corner, carefully pulling each item out and placing it just so, building his nest around their bed and his sleeping alpha as quietly as possible. Each time he placed a piece of fabric on the bed, he stepped back and studied it, then huffed, moving it again and again until it felt…right. But something was still off.
His pack.
He needed the others’ scent, not just their own. How could he forget something like that? He hurried to his phone, sliding to unlock it, then opening his messaging app. Fen was right at the top. He clicked open their private chat.
Seth
I need clothes for my nest. It doesn’t look right. Saint’s going to think I’m incompetent.
Fenny
Shut up. He’s obsessed with you. But look outside your door.
Seth’s heart squeezed. He wished he could believe that was true in his core. He shook the thought away, carefully opening the door. Outside was a basket of laundry. He made a happy sound, dragging it inside then locking them inside their room once more.
Seth
Thanks. You’re the best.
Fenny
So it’s working? The meds? You’re in heat?
Why was it on the tip of Seth’s tongue to lie? Fen had given him the meds. Why would he lie about them working? But something in him was screaming at him to hide it, a voice whispering that the pack might stop him if things went too far. Seth shook his head. Things weren’t going to go too far. He’d had heats before. He’d had heats with Saint before. He was just being paranoid.
Seth
Yeah. It’s working.
Fenny
Are you okay?
Seth hesitated before answering truthfully.
Seth
The cramping is more intense than usual but other than that I feel fine. If I wasn’t so fucking horny it would feel like I’d just eaten a bad burrito. Nothing I can’t handle.
Fenny
How did Saint take the news?
Seth
What do you mean?
Fenny
Is he mad that you took the medication?
Seth chewed on his lip. Should he tell Fen he never told Saint? Did it really matter? Fen would be checking on him anyway, right?
Seth
He’s not mad.
It wasn’t exactly a lie. He wasn’t mad. He was sleeping. The fact that he didn’t know was irrelevant. Kind of. Seth put his phone down before he could see Fen’s response. If he didn’t see the message, it didn’t count as ignoring it.
He pushed down the guilt trying to claw its way up his throat, grunting as he was hit with another breathtaking cramp. When it passed, he set about redoing his nest. He pressed each piece of fabric to his nose, making an embarrassing chirping sound whenever he set just the right piece in the right place.
And yet, when he reached the bottom of the laundry basket, something still wasn’t right. He whined, trying to ignore the void growing in his lower abdomen, then went to dive back into their closet only to return empty handed. Before his disappointment set in, he sucked in an excited breath. There was a laundry basket in the bathroom as well.
The benefit of Saint’s OCD was that their room had a predictability about it. His alpha needed everything in its place, though he was far more lenient with Seth than he was with any of the others. Because of that, Seth tried twice as hard not to forget how much it distressed his alpha to have things moved. While Seth believed in his core that they were soulmates, ADHD and OCD were two very different diagnoses for one couple.
He managed to make it to the bathroom before the next cramp hit, taking him to his knees on the cold floor. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, counting his way through the pain, doing his best to keep his breathing even and measured. When would the stupid meds kick in? When he could move again, he upended the hamper on the bathroom floor, distressed sounds falling from his lips as his unease built.
He’d almost given up when he found it at the bottom of the hamper. Saint’s black t-shirt. The one he’d worn on his eight mile run a couple of days ago. It wreaked of his alpha’s sweat and pheromones.
Seth pressed the fabric to his face and inhaled a lungful, mouth pooling with saliva at the pungent scent of his alpha. Slick pooled onto the floor beneath him, his cock throbbing as he shuddered.
He laid back on the pile of discarded clothing, clutching the shirt to his nose. His hand closed around his leaking cock, a low desperate moan escaping as he stroked himself, pleasure building within him with every jerk of his fist. He must look ridiculous, writhing on the ground, thrusting up into his own fist, pitiful sounds falling from his lips like prayer.
He pressed the fabric closer, using it to try to muffle the sounds. The taste of his alpha exploded on his tongue. He worked himself faster, sucking on the t-shirt like it was a pacifier, far too gone to care about humiliation. It took barely thirty seconds for his orgasm to rip through him, painting his belly and chest white.
He stayed there on the floor, clutching his alpha’s shirt as he stared up at the ceiling. Despite the blissful orgasm, he was still rock hard and he’d stay that way until his alpha bred him.
Fuck. He needed his alpha now. He needed him to knot him, breed him, fill him up. He dragged himself from the floor, stumbling back into the bedroom before crawling up the bed to hover over his mate.
Should he wake him? Saint had to be in rut. He was panting, sweat pooling at the dip in his throat, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. Even without touching him, Seth could feel the heat radiating off him like summer asphalt. He smelled so good. Seth dipped his head to Saint’s crotch, pressing his nose there before licking at whatever skin he found.
His alpha was hard, the thick length of his cock lying heavy against his abdomen. He was leaking precum onto his stomach, enough that it had settled in his belly button. Seth dipped his tongue into it, more slick drenching his ass and thighs as he let the pearly fluid sit on the tip of his tongue before swallowing it down, eyes rolling blissfully.
He smelled so good everywhere. Seth couldn’t get enough. He surged forward, nosing his head to the side to lick over his alpha’s scent gland, earning an inhuman rumble from his mate. Seth rubbed his cheek against him, then bit him gently, whining when he didn’t wake immediately. He needed Saint inside…now. Right now. His cock was the only thing that could fill this chasm between his hip bones. He needed his knot, his cum, needed him to fill him up until it took.
He sobbed against Saint’s throat. A ninety-two percent success rate. That was what Win had said. There was no way he wouldn’t get pregnant this time. Seth’s heat was worse than his presentation heat and the others swore Saint went feral in rut. There was no way they’d fail at this. Not this time.
This time, Seth would be a good omega. This time, it would take. This time, he could give Saint the babies he wanted. He didn’t care how rough it got, how crazed Saint grew. Seth would endure anything if it meant he got a baby. Saint’s baby. Babies. Saint’s babies.
Tears slipped from Seth’s eyes at the thought. Saint made a noise of distress beneath him, grimacing, his hands blindly reaching for Seth. He climbed off his alpha, rolling to face away from him. He needed to get a grip. He could wait until Saint woke up. He would need all his strength for the two of them to get through this.
He shoved a pillow between his thighs, bringing the soiled t-shirt to his face once more as he ground down against the dense fibers. It was hard but it wasn’t enough to even take the edge off. The more he worked his hips against the pillow, the more frustrated he grew, slick pouring from him so fast it almost overpowered Saint’s buttered rum scent entirely.
The sheets were soaked with sweat and slick, the pillow between his thighs wet with his precum, but no matter how much he tried, Seth couldn’t get off. The fabric was starting to chafe. Why had he thrown away all his knotting toys when they’d moved in there? Oh, right. Pride. The idea of anyone hearing him begging for a knot while riding a latex imitation of an alpha cock had been too humiliating for words. He’d also been optimistic about his chances of even needing one in a house full of horny alphas.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, high on Saint’s pheromones. The tang of his alpha’s sweat was ripe on his tongue as he nursed on the fabric, grinding his hips against it despite his discomfort, imagining his alpha filling him, giving him what he needed. He finally came a second time, muffling his cry with the t-shirt.
He sobbed when he felt his cock still hard and throbbing, but now also sore. It wasn’t enough. He needed Saint. He rolled over, looking at his mate, mouth watering at the sight of his still rigid cock standing at attention. It would be so easy to just climb onto his lap and sink down on him. He’d fill him up so well.
Saint wouldn’t mind. Right?
He’d fucked Seth through his last heat even after he’d fallen asleep. He’d brought him to orgasm a dozen times, whispering filthy things in Seth’s ears that had flooded his dreams with pornographic scenarios. Seth had loved every second of it. He’d loved knowing he was satisfying his alpha even in his sleep.
They were soulmates, fated.
They both needed it, needed this.
They both wanted a baby.
There was no deception.
Right?
Seth shuffled over to his mate, climbing over him to settle on his hips, waiting to see if he stirred at all. When he nestled his head deeper into the pillow, Seth let himself look his fill, sliding a fingertip through the sheen of sweat just below his left nipple.
Seth couldn’t believe that the alpha belonged to him. Saint was far more beautiful than any one person should be. He was strong and calm and he settled Seth’s fears in a way he couldn’t ever put into words. Seth leaned over enough to run his fingers over the scars on his cheek. They only enhanced his sexiness. He looked dangerous. Seth supposed he probably was to outsiders. But never to Seth. Never to their pack. Never to their future children.
Seth had never really had a chance to look at his alpha like this. The moment they were both naked, Saint usually took over, using him however he liked. Now, Seth could look his fill. He could touch, too. He ran his palms over the slippery planes of Saint’s chest, shuddering at the muscles beneath his hands. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning closer, running the flat of his tongue along his alpha’s sternum, moaning as he gathered his sweat on the tip of his tongue.
Saint shifted beneath him with a harsh sound that went straight to Seth’s core, this low animalistic rumble that only deepened the ache within him. He was so hot inside, so empty. He needed to be full. He needed his alpha.
He braced himself on his hands, circling his tongue around one stiff nipple, clamping his teeth down on the taut peak until Saint growled, his hands fisting at his sides. Seth licked over the teeth marks there, then sucked it into his mouth. This time, his alpha moaned, his hips shifting restlessly beneath Seth. He repeated the ritual on the other side, his insides twisting painfully.
He couldn’t wait anymore. “Saint?” Saint twitched but didn’t wake. “Alpha?” he whined.
He gave another frustrated sob when Saint still didn’t stir. He slid from his lap only to return facing away from him, too embarrassed to look at Saint if he were to wake up while Seth was riding him. At least this way he wouldn’t have to see his expression if he was angry.
He rose up on his knees, taking his alpha’s cock in hand, marveling at the velvety feel of it. How could something so hard feel so soft? He swiped his thumb over the head, gathering the wetness there, another excited whimper leaving him as he brought the fluid to his lips.
He needed to be full. Now. He moaned as he brought the blunt tip of Saint’s cock to his abused rim, letting gravity do the hard work. He bit back a pained cry as he impaled himself on his alpha’s cock inch by inch, not stopping until he was buried as deep as he could go.
Saint groaned as Seth ground his hips, his omega desperately trying to get his alpha impossibly deep. When that didn’t fill the ache, he rose up, then dropped back down, both of them moaning in tandem. Seth hesitated, expecting to feel rough hands on his hips or hear Saint’s sleep-soaked rasp…but it just didn’t happen.
Seth couldn’t wait any longer. He rolled his hips, finding a rhythm that had heat shocking through him every time his alpha’s cock glanced over his prostate. It was good, he was full—so full. But it still wasn’t enough. He tried everything, swiveling his hips, bouncing, even just rocking forward and back, but nothing was satisfying his omega.
He didn’t want to do the work himself. He wanted to be taken. Used.
His thighs were burning, the base of Saint’s cock swelling too quickly for Seth to bully it past his entrance. Tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks. How was he so bad at even this? He’d just wanted a knot, a baby, and now, he had nothing. He sucked at this.
He was a terrible omega.
He tried to quell his sobs. He couldn’t wake his alpha. He couldn’t let him see him like this. He didn’t want to try to explain what he’d been thinking. He stroked his cock even though it hurt. Maybe if he could come, his body might let Saint in.
He startled as hands closed around his hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, pulling him down until Saint’s knot ground against his hole. A broken breath escaped as the searing heat of Saint’s chest pressed against Seth’s back.
“What do you think you’re doing, omega?” Saint all but purred in his ear, the near inhuman voice shaking him to his core like an earthquake.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he babbled, choking on his own tears. “I couldn’t wait. I needed your knot. I still need it. Need you. It hurts so bad. I’m so empty.”
Saint’s fingers buried in Seth’s hair, dragging his head back so he could bury his face against his scent gland, a snarl erupting. “You’re in heat.”
“Yes, and it hurts so much,” Seth sobbed, another cramp overtaking him as if to prove his point, the muscles of his belly clenching until he wanted to die. “I just need it to stop…hurts so bad.” He tugged Saint’s hand from his hip, pressing his palm just below his belly button. “Please, alpha. Need you here.”
Saint shuddered, saliva dripping down Seth’s neck as he rasped out harsh, panting breaths against Seth’s skin. For a moment, Seth thought he might bite him again, but instead, he found himself shoved forward, his face in the mattress and his hole clenching on nothing.
Panic overtook him. “No! Don’t leave me like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he blurted, feeling like someone had ripped his heart from his chest.
His alpha was mad. His alpha didn’t want him.
He was failing as an omega.
Again.
He gasped as Saint’s palm pressed between his shoulder blades, his tongue sliding up the knobs of his spine, leaving spit drying on his skin. The alpha forced Seth’s chest to the mattress, holding him there and shaking him a bit as if telling him to stay.
Seth yelped, his skin catching fire as Saint’s hand cracked across his wet ass cheek, the sound embarrassingly loud in the silence. “Is that how you present for your alpha?” he taunted. “I thought he taught you better than that.”
He.