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“Are you sure that's it?” Simon asked, squinting in the soft dawn light, his darkvision revealing nothing special about the carved chunk of rock. “It doesn't look like much.”
“Definitely it,” Edgin said eagerly, tongue flicking out as he glanced at the door to the vault, still closed and not pouring in guards. “Come on, disarm the enchantment and let's grab it.”
Sighing as a frown crept onto his forehead, Simon plucked a spark from his focus and extended his hand. “Zinnion amigar,” he muttered and the rock flickered silver, which didn't happen when he countered the alarm on the window – but frankly it was always potluck what his magic looked like, even when it worked...
“We good?” said Edgin, eyebrows raised, earnest more than disbelieving.
“I think so,” Simon said hesitantly, but there was only one way to be sure –
He closed his hand around the smooth carving and a wailing sound echoed through the room.
“We're not good,” said Edgin, throwing an arm around Simon's shoulders. “Grab it and let's go, go, go!”
Stomach lurching, Simon shoved the lump of rock into his bag of holding and hurried to the window, half steered by Edgin. With a push to his back, Edgin urged Simon onto the rope, and Simon went, heart pounding as he moved hand over hand, sliding down the rope with Edgin following after. Already his hands were sweating and he was glad his half-gloves covered his palms.
With a grunt Simon dropped the last couple of feet, clutching his bag as he looked around. Edgin thumped down next to him. “This way,” hissed the bard, tugging his arm, leading him to the outer wall.
Fear and adrenaline prickling up his spine, Simon stumbled after him, refusing to look back, refusing to check, just in case –
“There they are!” roared a voice, and ice flooded Simon's veins. “Release the dogs!”
“Bollocks,” muttered Simon, half breathless, lungs burning as he pelted across the grass. Edgin was just ahead of him, hand still clutching his wrist, pulling him on. Paws thundered behind him, drawing closer, but the wall was just there and –
“Up, up!” cried Edgin, tugging Simon onto the garden bench they'd left pushed against the wall, and there was snarling behind but rough brick under his fingers as they –
“They're getting away!” growled that harsh voice. “Archers, fire!”
Simon's heart clenched, weight only half on top of the wall, and Edgin wasn't over either so he threw a hand back, yelling “Obscrus moyfin!” and the air shimmered but oh, fuck, with only one hand on the wall he was going to –
Panicking, Simon tipped himself forward and fell over the wall, slamming into the hard ground below. He heard something snap but he was pretty sure it wasn't his bones, and he was on the right side of the wall so he was fine, everything was fine –
“You okay?” called Edgin, hauling Simon to his feet, those blue eyes concerned and steady.
“Yeah,” groaned Simon, only aching a little. “Think so.”
Edgin grinned. “Come on. Let's get out of here.”
Pain and panic shivering through him, Simon couldn't help grinning back, and they ran from the clamour behind them and towards the woods, slipping among the trees, darting between the trunks as they sprinted – both of them laughing, gasping, panting, as the sounds of outrage faded. Relief surged through Simon's veins, feet thumping into the dirt, the back of his neck prickling.
Edgin led the way, guiding him on, until at last they burst into a clearing, the dew-blessed grass glinting in the early light, their horses calmly grazing on a patch by the tree they'd left them tied to.
“Fuck,” gasped Edgin, spilling into a laugh, clamping a hand on Simon's back as they slowed to a stop. “That was close.”
“Sorry about the alarm,” Simon said, something uneasy slithering into his stomach. “I thought my spell worked.”
Edgin waved dismissively with his other hand. “It's fine. We got it,” he said, blue eyes bright with earnest delight, hand sliding up to clutch at Simon's nape in a way that made him jolt. “Hope the others got the second half of the key, because those guards are gonna be straight on the sending stone.”
“Yeah,” muttered Simon, but any thoughts of the riches in the Lagiron Vault melted as his stomach swirled. He frowned, still breathing hard, his nose just catching Edgin's heavy alpha scent, the usually steady aroma now fizzing with their flight. That unsettled him, so used to Edgin's calm leadership, and his neck tingled under the alpha's hand –
“Come on,” said Edgin, pulling away, grinning as he strode toward the horses. “Time to put some distance between us and those guys.”
Simon nodded faintly. Without Edgin's scent, he felt even more unsettled, and that wasn't – something was wrong –
He took a couple of steps and felt something move inside his jerkin, poking into his chest. Frowning, Simon slipped his hand between the layers of fabric, pulling out the offending object.
“Oh, shit.” Simon whimpered as his eyes fell on his omega amulet, snapped clean in half – presumably when he fell on it. “Ed?” he called, panic rising in his voice.
“What's up?” said Edgin, turning back to him, but his calm demeanour turned sharp when he saw the broken amulet too. “Shit, is that your suppressant?”
Simon nodded, fear warbling in his throat. Fuck, he couldn't go into heat, he just couldn't, it'd been too long and he would –
“Hey,” Edgin said, clutching at Simon's biceps, gaze fixing on him. “We'll get a new one in the next village. You'll be fine.” The tremor of their escape was gone from his scent, now calm and collected again, the thick musk whispering the words too: you'll be fine, you'll be fine...
Inhaling a shaky breath, Simon swallowed and nodded again. Ed would look after him. But that assurance couldn't quite ease the quiver in the pit of his stomach.
“Come on,” said Edgin, steering him towards the horses – then paused in front of them, hands flexing on Simon's arms. “Maybe you should ride with me. My scent can help keep you calm, make sure your heat doesn't start.”
“Okay,” murmured Simon, breathing deep of that alpha aroma, trying to stave off the panic. They'd ridden together before, when he was sick or they'd lost one of the horses, and the idea seemed good, seemed safe.
Edgin flashed him a gentle smile then set about untying the horses, helping Simon hoist himself into the saddle before clambering up behind him, his solid weight settling in. “Alright,” said Edgin, urging his horse into motion. “Next village, okay? It won't be far.”
Simon nodded, loosing a sound halfway between sigh and groan, and leaned back against Edgin's steady form. He didn't like to rely on his omega biology, but this was an emergency – and Edgin's firm chest pressed to his back, strong arms curling around him, thick scent promising safety, were just what he needed.
“That's it,” rumbled Edgin, voice so close to his ear, a frisson layering into his words – the unmistakable tone of an alpha speaking to an omega in his care. “We'll be there soon.”
The horses plodded on, Simon's gelding tied to Edgin's mare, hooves softly clopping as the sky brightened, as they moved from the thin forest path to the wider lane through the fields. Simon squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on Edgin's scent, calm and smooth and steady, like a breeze after the rain – a whisper of fresh petrichor, resting gently on his frazzled senses. But that unease still churned in the pit of his stomach, and he could not help thinking maybe – maybe it was already too –
“Not long now,” Edgin said, kind and firm, each syllable layered with reassurance. Simon had no idea how long it had been, where they even were – but he knew Kaverine's manor was in the middle of nowhere, because that was half the point of it, and that slithering in his stomach wasn't going away.
A whimper catching in his throat, Simon angled himself closer to Edgin, sucking more of that scent into his lungs. Edgin smelled so sure, so calm, and it was easy to believe it – easy as any of his bardic smiles. And Simon trusted him, aching in his arms – but that storm in his stomach was only getting worse. Oh, gods.
Time flowing like a dream, it felt like forever and no time at all before Edgin was saying, “Hey, you're okay. We're here.”
Simon flickered his eyes open, breathing hard, and surveyed the little cottages as they passed. It was well past dawn now, the day had begun, and the villagers were bustling about. Edgin picked a path to the stable, Simon still arching against him, and guided their horses inside.
“Hey, pal,” Edgin called to the stablemaster, a muscular woman in her fifties. “You got a healer in this place, right? My friend's feeling kinda...”
“I can see that,” she grunted, brows twitching as she inhaled. Simon's heart twinged. Shit, could she smell him? That didn't bode well. “Take the alley behind the inn, you can't miss the sign.”
“Great, thanks,” Edgin said smoothly, and slipped out of his saddle to help Simon down. “There we go. You're okay.”
Simon groaned, leaning against the wall as Edgin handed some coins to the stablemaster. His knees were shaking and his stomach was trembling and he didn't feel right at all –
“Alright, Simon,” Edgin said softly, sliding an arm around his shoulders and teasing him from the wall. “The healer's not far.”
Breathing shakily, Simon nodded, but he tried to take a step and his knees buckled.
Edgin caught him, arms wrapping tight, taking his weight and tugging him close. “Whoa! Hey, hey,” he murmured, cradling Simon against his chest. “You okay? You gonna be able to walk?”
Simon sucked in a shuddering breath, that alpha musk filling his lungs, and tested his knees again. “Uh, you might need to hold me up,” he muttered, and a lick of shame joined that strange sensation curling in his gut.
But Edgin just smiled and said, “Yeah, of course.” He leaned Simon against his side, one arm curling over his shoulders, his other hand pressing to Simon's chest, and carefully guided him out of the stable.
Simon blinked in the sunlight, stomach quivering. His legs were just about cooperating but all of his weight was resting on Edgin, and he knew he must look a state – he could see some of the villagers staring, one or two of them alphas, their questioning scents flicking through the air. But Edgin was holding him close, the bard's own scent loud and strong, a solid, savoury musk that declared protection and comfort and mine, mine, he's mine, back off.
Simon breathed it in deep, and yes, it was calming – and strange and new, because no alpha had ever directed their scent so precisely at him before, the pheromones matching his own wavelength, though not really so different to all those times Edgin had clasped his shoulder and told him he could do it – but he could feel the first hint of slick between his legs and, fuck, that wasn't good. But the healer's sign was right here and it was just the effect of being scented, right? Just Ed and not –
“Here we go,” Edgin said, pushing open the door to the healer's shack and steering Simon inside. “Hi. Look, my friend's in trouble. You got any omega amulets?”
The healer, a half-elf with greying hair and sharp eyes, began rooting among the jars and dried herbs on a shelf to her left, before pulling out a fresh, unbroken amulet. “I do,” she said, leaning over the counter, offering the object, “but it's not going to help your friend. His heat's already started.”
“Fuck,” whimpered Simon, Edgin's hand squeezing his shoulder tighter as his stomach clenched hard. He'd been trying to pretend, but in his heart he knew –
“And you don't have any herbs or anything that'll...?” asked Edgin, trailing off, and for once even he sounded worried, though his scent still confidently wrapped around Simon.
The healer sighed, shrugging slightly. “A heat is a heat. You know how it is,” she said, apology softening her eyes a little.
“Right. Thanks,” said Edgin and swapped some coins for the amulet, then led Simon outside.
A ball of panic and fear lodged in Simon's throat as they stepped back into the alley. “Ed, I – I can't –”
Edgin leaned him back against the wall, next to the grimy window. “Hey, look at me,” he said, firm but gentle, pressing his palms to Simon's cheeks, the new amulet dangling from his wrist. “You're gonna be okay. We – We'll get a room at the inn and you can ride this out, alright? I'll look after you.”
There was nothing sexual about the way he said it, nothing obscene in those blue eyes, nothing seductive about that musk – but Simon groaned as a fresh wave of slick trickled inside him. Fuck, this was going to be awful. He could already feel the need coiling in his gut, an ache thrumming through his veins, and he knew, he knew it was going to get so much worse. And having an alpha with him would help, but it wasn't going to dull that painful desperation, not when it had been so long since he –
“Ed,” he moaned, drawing the syllable out, lingering on his friend's name.
“You'll be okay, Simon,” murmured Edgin, brushing a thumb over his cheek, that scent insistent with sweet reassurance. “Come on. The inn's right here. We'll get a room, then you can relax.”
Simon swallowed and nodded, though another whimper was building in his chest, but he let Edgin tug him back into his embrace and guide him up the alley, into the inn, over to the innkeeper's counter.
“Hey there,” said Edgin, laying on the charm, his scent receding a little. “Can we get a room? My friend's not well.”
The innkeeper leaned closer, fixing Simon with hazel eyes, sincere and concerned. “Are you alright?”
His brain thick with fog, it took Simon a moment to realise the man was checking he actually knew Edgin, that the guy wasn't just some alpha dragging a vulnerable omega off alone. “Not really,” he groaned, tilting his head into Edgin's chest, moulding his body against him. “But Ed's looking after me.”
Maybe Edgin understood the question too, because he gently curled his arm around Simon, scent whispering protect, protect, protect, a sour tang of sadness drifting in.
“Mmm,” hummed the innkeeper, brows relaxing slightly. He reached down and pulled out a key. “You need anything, just holler.”
Simon forced his lips into a smile, weak and wonky. The innkeeper didn't smell like an alpha. Maybe a beta – or a fellow omega, sympathetic to his plight.
“Thanks, pal,” said Edgin, exchanging more coins for that key, then began to steer Simon towards the stairs. “You're okay, Simon. Just a little bit further, then you can rest.”
Simon groaned, his legs protesting the effort, but Edgin held him close, supporting his weight as he helped him up the steps to the first landing. Another groan escaped Simon's throat while Edgin fiddled with the lock, hunger pulsing with every heartbeat. Fuck, he'd almost forgotten what this was like, and it was horrible yet it had hardly started.
“Alright, we're here,” grunted Edgin, hauling Simon across the room and easing him down onto the bed. “We're here. You can relax now, Simon.”
Simon snorted, a bitter laugh cresting on his tongue. “Yeah, this is so relaxing,” he said, and yes, sinking into that mattress soothed some of his aches – but not that raw need, which coiled tighter now he was lying down, spread out with an alpha looming over him.
Edgin chuckled, soft and sad, straightening up. “I can tell,” he said, a smile teasing at his lips as he deposited the fresh amulet on the bedside table. “When was the last time you had a heat?”
“Uh,” Simon said, guilt swirling through his stomach. “Just my first, when I was eighteen. So... five years ago?”
“Fuck,” muttered Edgin, eyes widening. “Simon, that's not good. No wonder it came on so fast. You're not supposed to leave it more than six months, a year at most.”
Simon looked away, stinging with admonishment. “I know, but it was awful. And I've never – never had anyone to –”
Edgin's fingers gently touched his shoulder, drawing him back, before the bard began to untie his cloak. “I had kinda wondered if you were a virgin,” he murmured, and his words were soft, his scent kind, but Simon's cheeks still burned.
“I – I just –” he choked, that hunger in his gut fully aware that Edgin was an alpha, a bard, had been married once –
“Hey,” Edgin said softly, fingers brushing Simon's cheek before easing his cloak away. “Nothing to be ashamed of. If you're not ready, you're not ready.”
Simon laughed, the sound sharper than he intended. “Even if I was ready, nobody was ready to have sex with me.”
Edgin gave him a smile, kind and wry. “Well, it doesn't matter,” he said, carefully lifting Simon's head to tug his bag of holding off. “We can get through this heat without that, okay? I'll hold you and you can breathe my scent. That'll take the edge off.”
Eyes wavering on Edgin's face, Simon breathed deep again. That musk called to him, promising comfort, promising safety, a rich aroma that filled his nose. And the ache in him did ease a fraction – but that was nothing compared to the wave of need building inside him, so strong though it had barely begun. “Yeah,” he whispered, the word trembling.
With a gentle pat to Simon's chest, Edgin perched on the edge of the bed, prying Simon's boots off before doing the same to his own. “Alright,” he said, standing again, shrugging his jacket off and slinging it over the back of the chair. “Let me just get in position.”
Edgin walked around to the other side of the bed, setting himself down and shifting across the sheets. Simon's stomach clenched, slick flowing at the sight of an alpha getting into bed with him – before Edgin even stretched out next to him, sliding his arms around him and encouraging him close. “Okay, I got you. Just breathe my scent, yeah?” he said, gently guiding Simon's head against his neck, where his scent glands were. “As much as you need.”
A tiny, bitter laugh escaped Simon's mouth. Edgin was being so soft, so kind, so careful, and yes, that calm scent smelled so good – but this wasn't what he needed, this was nowhere near as much as he needed. But this was all he had, so Simon nudged his face into Edgin's neck and inhaled deeply, veins tingling as that thick alpha musk settled inside him.
“Yeah, that's it,” murmured Edgin, one hand still curled over Simon's nape, the other gently rubbing at his back. “Just try to relax.”
Simon squeezed his eyes shut, fingers gripping Edgin's shirt. Gods, the man smelled of everything he needed – a rich base that promised protection, softer notes that whispered of comfort, a sweet layer that drifted as it murmured calm, stay calm, everything's fine. But it was just a scent, just a whisper in the air, and not Edgin actually pushing him down and stripping him bare and pressing ins–
Whimpering, Simon arched closer, trying to force down the thoughts. Ed was being kind and it wasn't fair to let his mind run away with him. Yeah, the man had to know what the heat would do to him, what a desperate mess he'd become. But this would be an exercise in holding back, riding the edge of the heat with only Edgin's scent to stop him falling. Because scent was all Ed was offering, all that lay on the table of their friendship, just scent and those arms around him –
Fuck, Edgin was holding him so gently, strong arms cradling him close. And it felt so good, so steady, a foundation on which he could rest – but that spiralling need in his stomach was growing by the moment, clawing at that hold, aching to build a thousand things upon it. It was helping, definitely helping, but it was also fuel for the hunger that summoned slick between his legs.
“Oh, shit,” whined Simon, squirming closer as need rushed through his veins, louder every moment, a plea becoming a chant becoming a roar. “Ed...”
“I'm here,” said Edgin, almost painfully kind, so calm and earnest. “Just breathe, Simon.” His thumb rubbed at Simon's neck, other hand gently drawing circles on his back.
Gasping, stomach clenching, Simon forced himself to inhale. Edgin's scent flexed, thickened, his arms tensing slightly like he was concentrating, pouring out as much scent as he could. Another ache curled around Simon's heart, tender and sad, because Ed was doing so much for him – and that scent was good, calm in his lungs, a rich promise that wrapped tight around him. Stronger now, Simon could almost taste his own name in it: you're mine, Simon, my omega, mine to protect.
Simon clung to him, clung to that thought, trembling. Ed had always been the leader, always been the alpha guiding their group, guiding him, assuring him, a hand on the shoulder when his magic failed. That scent was the most natural sentiment in the world: of course he was Edgin's omega. Edgin was his alpha – but he wasn't his alpha.
A groan rumbling in his throat, Simon squeezed closer, moulding to Edgin's body. The need in his gut was clamouring now, raw and heavy, tugging at his will. He needed – oh, he needed – and the scent just wasn't –
“Ed,” he moaned, the sound trailing to a whimper. “It's not enough.”
“I know,” murmured Edgin, an ache in his voice. He pulled back, peeling Simon away from him, denying him that scent to look deep into his eyes.
For a moment Simon thought they were done, that Ed was going to abandon him – say he'd do better alone, do better if he could touch himself, withdraw that scent so Simon could push his fingers into his hole and sate himself more that way.
But Edgin raised his own fingers, swiped them through the scent on his neck, then reached out and brushed his fingertips over Simon's lips, the touch soft and brief.
Simon stared into those blue eyes, unsure what Edgin intended. But the bard raised his eyebrows so Simon swept his tongue out to taste the scent and – oh, fuck, that was so much more intense. Like he was absorbing all of Edgin's signals straight into his body. Whimpering, Simon tipped his head closer, seeking more.
A smile spread across Edgin's face, relieved and triumphant. He loaded his fingers with more scent then pressed back against Simon's lips, more firmly this time, seeking entrance. Trembling, Simon opened for him, and Edgin's fingers slid into his mouth, claiming the space, pressing on his tongue.
Gods, that was weird. So fucking weird. But it felt sort of nice, an echo of true penetration, and more importantly Edgin's touch was laden with scent, thick with pheromones that now rushed into Simon's system, fighting that blazing need in his gut. Clutching at Edgin's shirt, Simon swirled his tongue against those fingers, eager to maintain the dose. Each motion rubbed off another layer, pulling it into his body.
“Yeah, good,” murmured Edgin, eyes bright and encouraging, making this less strange than it should be. “That's helping?”
Simon hummed in agreement and gratitude. He had no idea this was even a thing, but then he'd never – and Edgin was older, more experienced, more assured... and all of that was in his alpha scent, rich and sharp, swearing I know how to care for you. It was almost intoxicating, a giddy warmth that rolled through him, soothing that roaring hunger.
But the more he licked up that scent, the less there was left, and the effect began to fade – so Simon sucked instead, sucked on Edgin's fingers the way he'd imagined sucking on a cock, and fuck – yes, there was that scent again, flowing into him, thick and beautiful.
Edgin shivered, eyes widening, and a tendril of guilt curled in Simon's gut. He hadn't meant to make him do that. But Edgin didn't pull away, just let him continue, let Simon work those digits as he needed – until the scent ebbed, faded, vanished.
Simon whined, mouth stilling, the wave of need rushing back the moment he had no scent to combat it.
Slow and careful, Edgin slipped his fingers out and studied them, blue eyes wide and wavering. “Listen, I...” he croaked, though his scent was still steady in the air, if too faint at this distance to be any use. “Would you mind if – if I kissed you? More direct delivery, and it wouldn't fade.”
“No,” whispered Simon, his stomach churning like a storm. “I wouldn't mind.”
Edgin smiled, the curve a gentle apology, and pressed his palm to Simon's cheek. He shifted a little, rearranging them as Simon's heart pounded, then leaned in and brushed their mouths together.
Simon whimpered at that touch, hands tightening in Edgin's shirt. The need in his stomach screamed, slick trickling inside his channel – but Edgin nudged closer, parting his lips, slipping his tongue into Simon's open mouth, and oh, fuck – Simon felt himself grow even wetter as Edgin delved inside him, granting him an infinite dose of pheromones.
Those signals rippled through him, soothing the endless hunger, and Simon almost sobbed as it receded. But Edgin carried on kissing him, sliding forward, drawing back, tender and skilled. The sensation was incredible, their mouths gliding together, warm and wet. Simon arched into it, trying to contribute, but he'd had precious few kisses and barely knew what he was doing – and his head was full of fog, thick and dreamlike, so his tongue kept clashing with Edgin's, until Simon admitted defeat and just let the moment carry him, let Edgin take control.
Fuck, that felt so good, Edgin's tongue exploring his mouth. And the constant stream of pheromones damped the hunger to a murmur, roiling in the pit of his stomach. Moaning softly, Simon savoured the touch, the slick slide of his friend's tongue, raw and comforting. Sometimes, alone at night, Simon had imagined this – imagined this and more – but those guilty, forbidden fantasies had come nowhere close to the truth, to the beautiful reality of Edgin kissing him. A little of that guilt swirled through him now, because Ed was just being kind, looking after him and nothing more – but, oh, it was amazing.
Edgin moved against him, holding him close, diving deep into his mouth. And that contact fought back the need in Simon, sweet and soothing. But his heat had not reached its peak, and as the tide rose each wave that washed across the shore was more insistent than the last, more urgent, more intense. It built and built, a whimper curling in Simon's throat, that murmur growing to a chatter to a shout. His hole grew slicker yet, his cock began to harden, spurred half by that need and half by Edgin's mouth on his.
Shaking, desperately aching, Simon clutched Edgin's chest tighter. Oh, gods, it wasn't enough. Even this wasn't enough. He could smell his own scent now, so strong even his senses could not ignore it – a thick and cloying scent, like overripe fruit about to turn sour, like a full vat of mead, heady and sickly sweet. Simon knew it must be more intense for Edgin – but the bard was still kissing him, his own scent holding steady, still promising I'll protect you, I'll protect you...
Whimpering, Simon clung to him, arching into the kiss. He needed this, needed more – and the heat was yet growing, wrapping thick and tight around him, a heaviness inside his flesh that begged, pleaded, screamed for his hole to be filled. Fuck, he knew he could not have it, would never ask aloud, but that hunger roared through him, veins trembling with that thunder. He could smell himself, shamefully desperate, scent layering thickly as his heat rose, as his cock hardened, as Edgin kissed him deep – until that sweet, begging scent turned sharp, until please, please, I need something crashed over into you, Ed, I want you.
Edgin broke the kiss, pulling away, blue eyes wide and wavering. “Simon?” he croaked, studying him, hesitation creeping through his body.
“Shit,” groaned Simon, stomach clenching with guilt and hunger. “I'm sorry, you're being so kind, and I'm just fucking ruining ev–”
“You're not ruining it,” Edgin said quickly, gently, his thumb brushing over Simon's cheek. “I just didn't realise you were interested.”
Simon laughed, bitter and almost hysterical. “You've never looked in a mirror then.”
Edgin chuckled softly, eyebrows slightly raised. “I always thought I was too old for you,”
“It's okay,” muttered Simon, dropping his gaze, fingers twitching as need pulsed through him. “I know you're not interested in me.”
“I never said that,” murmured Edgin, shifting closer, tender hands sliding around him.
Simon swallowed hard, eyes so wide, guilty hope lancing through his hunger. “But you don't – you don't smell interested –”
Edgin laughed, softly, kindly. “Simon, I'm a mature alpha. And the Harpers trained me to go undercover. I can control my scent. I was only giving you what I thought you wanted – what I thought you needed...”
“So it's fake?” choked Simon, heavy horror dropping through his stomach. All that gentle comfort, all those promises of protection... “Your scent's fake?”
“No! No,” Edgin insisted quickly, a moment of panic melting back to playful. “Come on, nobody can fake a scent. But I can... suppress parts of it, if I try.”
Simon stared at him, stomach quivering with a multitude, more than he could measure. “So what does your natural scent smell like right now?”
A slight frown flickered across Edgin's forehead and he swept his tongue over his lower lip. Then he carefully pulled Simon close, pressing his face to his neck again, and Simon felt a tension unspool in the bard's muscles, a tension he'd thought was just alpha strength.
Edgin's musk flowed into him, thick and overwhelming. There were those fresh notes of calm and certainty, whispering everything will be okay; there was that rich layer that promised protection; there was the gentle offer of comfort, almost sweet in the air. But this unbound scent revealed new flavours: a tang of worry, sharp and fierce; an edge of sadness, sour as lemons; even a dusting of fear, of panic – acrid confessions that nipped at Simon's senses. But under all that lay the biggest surprise, a deep swathe of pure and unfiltered hunger that growled you, Simon, I want you.
Groaning, Simon yanked back, yanked away from that scent. Fuck, nobody had ever wanted him like that. Nobody had ever really wanted him at all. And the hunger in him sang at its mirror, but the rest of him reeled, shocked and overwhelmed. It was Edgin, his friend, his leader – but the weight of it pressed on him, leaving him trembling.
“Shit,” muttered Edgin, eyes widening, sadness flickering in his face as those new aromas faded, forced back down. “I'm sorry, I – I shouldn't have – You're a virgin, you said you're not ready, and I know you don't really want –”
“I'm a virgin,” croaked Simon, sliding his hands up Edgin's chest, “and I hadn't been ready.”
Edgin groaned, fingers flexing on Simon's back. “This is just the heat talking. You don't really mean it.”
Simon inhaled shakily, trying to use that steady scent to steady him too. “Ed, I... I'm nervous, okay, I'm really nervous. But this idea didn't arrive with the heat. I've been ready for a little while, I just didn't have an opportunity. But it's you. I trust you.”
Stroking gently across Simon's cheek, Edgin exhaled hard. “I know you trust me. That doesn't mean you actually want me, that you really want me to fuck you. The heat's making you think that.”
As the hope of that desire turned bitter in his mouth, Simon loosed a hollow laugh. “You don't know how many times I've touched myself, imagining it's you inside me.”
Cheeks flushing, eyes dilating, Edgin moaned softly. “Fuck. You never said.”
Simon snorted, his stomach roiling with need. “I can barely even flirt. And we're friends, and you're older, and it wasn't like it was a constant thing, I just sometimes... But it was there before the heat, Ed.”
Edgin swallowed hard, gaze roving over him, so soft as it weighed his sincerity – like he knew Simon was too earnest to lie. “Okay. But I don't want you to regret this. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and feel like I took advantage of you.”
Simon clutched at Edgin's shirt, desperate need thundering through him. “Regret this more than a heat without a knot?”
Forehead creasing, Edgin looked away. “They're not the same, Simon. You're a virgin, so you don't – I just don't want to hurt you.”
“You won't,” whispered Simon, shifting closer, aching for him. “I trust you. And I know... I know you'll be gentle with me.”
Edgin's blue eyes wavered on him, wide and wild. He groaned. “Alright. If you want me to fuck you, I'll fuck you.”
“I want you,” insisted Simon, arching against him. He pushed on his scent, urging it to fill the air, to communicate all he was feeling. The thick aroma pressed on them, and even Simon could smell it: that raw and undirected hunger; the desire for Edgin, naming and pleading; a mix of trust and certainty and eagerness – and a frisson of nerves, but no more than a frisson.
“Okay,” moaned Edgin, shivering. “Okay.” He leaned in to press their mouths together, a tender touch of lips, and as he shifted close the bard unleashed his scent – that worry still lingered, but it rippled amidst that urge to protect, that wish to comfort, the pure desire that moulded itself to Simon's own scent and declared you, you, I want you.
Simon whimpered into the kiss, his need almost dulling as their bodies met, as their scents melded. Fuck, he really did want Ed – But Edgin pulled away, rising to his knees, and Simon shuddered, chasing him with desperate hands.
Edgin smiled, soft and reassuring, then began to tug his shirt off. Simon moaned as that revealed each patch of secret flesh. He'd assumed Edgin was muscular, because alphas were, weren't they? And he had an alpha's strength, had felt so solid against him. But what Simon discovered was not a sculpted torso, but a small measure of lean muscle, covered with a little layer of fat – the body of a bard, of a man who spent most of his time drinking and singing and only occasionally running for his life. And desire roared fresh in Simon to see it, thrumming in his veins.
Edgin tossed his shirt to the side and started on his belt, wriggling out of his clothes until he knelt next to Simon in nothing but his underwear. Simon's eyes drifted over his friend's body, down to his groin and the bulge there – fuck, the size of it. Surely his cock couldn't actually be that big? It must be the fabric.
But Simon had little time to consider before Edgin's hands were on him instead, setting his skin tingling and his mouth moaning as Edgin carefully moved him this way and that, peeling off his clothes, murmuring, “Hold on, just let me –” And Simon tried to assist him but his limbs were shaky with that need, the heat coursing strong through him like a river swollen by a storm.
At last Simon lay naked except for his underwear, shivering as Edgin loomed over him. The hunger was blazing in his stomach, a hesitant eagerness flickering in his mind, and seeing his friend take that position made it all feel so very real. His heat was strange and almost dreamlike, rippling through his body – but he began to understand what he'd agreed to. They were going to fuck. They were actually going to fuck. Edgin was going to spread his legs and push inside and fill him up –
That realisation must have echoed in his scent, because Edgin's musk softened, questioning, reassuring. “You okay?” asked Edgin, eyes wide and gentle. “We don't have to. If it's too much, we can just...”
Simon inhaled that alpha aroma, so steady, calm and calming, and let it soothe the hunger rattling in him. “I'm okay,” he promised, as evenly as he was able. “And – And I still want this.”
Edgin smiled, soft and kind, and brushed his fingers over Simon's arm, tenderly stroking until Simon's scent eased. Then Edgin retreated to his own underwear, thumbs hooking under the hem, and pushed the fabric down to reveal his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” Simon whimpered, stomach clenching hard. He'd never seen an alpha's erect cock before – but the only word for it was huge. Both long and thick, with a slight upward curve, Simon's slick hole ached at the sight – half with desire, half with concern. “Ed, that's not going to fit.”
Edgin chuckled softly, his blue eyes bright and playful. “Trust me, it'll fit,” he said, utterly confident, his scent laced with reassurance. “You're an omega. You're built to stretch.”
Simon moaned at the word, at the idea – Edgin pushing that thick cock inside him, opening him up, spreading him wide. It was obscene and scary and enticing. “Ed...”
“We'll go slow, okay?” promised Edgin, leaning over him, his solid alpha form crowding Simon's smaller body as he lightly pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I'll be gentle.”
A sigh shuddered through Simon, hesitation battling with desire. Fuck, that cock was huge – but Edgin knew what he was doing, was always looking after him, was promising again. And Simon trusted him, that belief lodged deep inside him, where even the heat couldn't shake it. “Okay,” he croaked, a quiver coiling in his stomach. “I trust you.”
Edgin smiled and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Good,” he said, pulling back, resting on his knees again. “And if it is too much, we can always stop.”
Simon gave him a hesitant nod, raw need drawing his eyes to that thick shaft – begging him to take it, take it, take it...
“Lift your hips for me,” asked Edgin, curling his fingers over Simon's waistband, eyes softly urging.
Simon swallowed, a frisson of nerves flashing through him. Nobody had ever – And worry rippled over his exposed body, sheepish and shy. He'd never thought himself much to look at, and Edgin was already looking, those experienced eyes roving across his body, and what if Ed didn't actually –
His thoughts must have leaked into his scent again, because Edgin's musk answered him, a tang of appreciation rising to mix with the already-present desire. Simon inhaled slowly, chest trembling, then raised his hips for Edgin.
Edgin pulled the fabric down and away, exposing his last secret, freeing the seductive scent of his slick. It arched through the air, cutting a slice through every other aroma, thick and undeniable. His hard cock slapped against his stomach too, smaller than Edgin's but straining proud. A little shame bubbled in Simon's stomach at being so obviously aroused. Yes, it was the heat but...
Sweeping his tongue over his lower lip, Edgin leaned in, eyes wide and hungry. “You ready?” he asked, reaching halfway towards Simon's hole.
Simon shivered. Oh, gods. He'd never been touched and the unknown worried him, because all unknowns worried him, but it was Edgin and fuck, he wanted it – so he nodded slowly.
Edgin smiled and gently brushed a finger over Simon's entrance. “Fuck, you're so slick already,” he groaned.
Simon cleared his throat and looked away, cheeks burning. “Sorry, I didn't mean to get so...”
Edgin chuckled, softly, kindly. “No, no, that's good. That'll make this easier.”
“Yeah, your cock will slide right in,” Simon said, the sarcasm brittle on his tongue.
Laughing, Edgin swirled his finger over Simon's tight ring. “Maybe not. But easier than you imagine.”
Simon swallowed, meeting those steady blue eyes, the moment hanging heavy as Edgin's finger rested at his entrance. His body tingled, begging for that touch, and it was Edgin... Simon nodded again, and Edgin pushed one finger inside.
“Oh,” gasped Simon, as the digit slipped into him. His muscles protested with a slight burn, but the motion really was easy – and so good, Edgin's finger felt so good inside him, better than his own fingers did, better even than his previous heat, when he'd squirmed on his own hand. He knew the need roaring through him must be amplifying that, but he didn't care. That slight stretch of Edgin's finger was amazing.
“You okay?” asked Edgin, slowly sliding his finger back and forth, rubbing inside Simon's channel. The movement was so casual, so controlled.
“Yeah,” groaned Simon, shivering, because he really was. Edgin's finger in him felt good and right and he wanted more, wanted everything, needed everything. He tipped his thighs a little wider, begging with his body.
Edgin smiled and pressed another finger to his ring, resting there until Simon moaned – then Edgin eased it in, next to the first, doubling the stretch.
“Shit,” hissed Simon, his entrance aching. The burn was fiercer than before, sharp and hot, his delicate muscles resisting. He rarely touched himself like this, rarely used more than one finger, preferring a quick and simple tug of his cock. And the heat and Edgin made it different, stranger, better. But he knew he could relax for this, so he urged his body to loosen, to open up for Edgin.
“That's it,” murmured Edgin, gently thrusting his fingers, the friction skittering through Simon's stomach, a shiver of pleasure that rolled through him.
Simon breathed through it, breathed in Edgin's alpha scent, calm and protective – breathed as his entrance adjusted, slick muscles clutching Edgin's fingers, aching for more, so much more. He whimpered as Edgin touched another finger to his entrance, but the hunger in his gut was nowhere near sated, so he angled his thighs wider again and, fuck, Edgin pressed a third one in.
He'd only had three fingers once before, back in his first heat, when desperation had led him to shove them inside – and Edgin's hands were bigger than his, just a little bigger, but that made all the difference as his tender muscles stretched.
“Fuck,” he whined, burning around it, yearning for more even as more seemed impossible. This was so much, so much, not enough – but how was he ever going to take that cock? That was far thicker than just three fingers, and gods, he ached –
But the sensation was easing, his body slowly loosening, learning to welcome Edgin in.
Edgin was smiling at him, proud and gentle. “You're doing good, Simon,” he said, slowly sliding those three fingers back and forth.
Breath hitching in his chest, Simon tried to relax for him, to savour that taste of friction, to let that scent wash over him. He surrendered to it, to that touch, to the hunger, wallowing in the sensation. A moan rumbled in his throat as Edgin stroked inside him, teasing his sensitive flesh. Fuck, it felt so good, really just incredible, and despite his worry about the size of Edgin's cock he found he only wanted more.
He groaned when Edgin slipped his fingers out, needy channel clenching on nothing. But Edgin was leaning over him, settling between his thighs, balancing just above him – and Simon groaned deeper. This was it. They were going to fuck. Edgin was going to fuck him, fuck him with that massive cock.
“Still nervous?” asked Edgin, his smile playful, his blue eyes bright but shimmering with desire.
“A little,” Simon confessed, shivering under him. “But I want this.”
Edgin reached down with one hand, guiding his tip to Simon's entrance. It was thick and warm and utterly obscene. “Ready then?” he asked, voice frazzled with his own need.
A shudder followed that shiver. “I'm ready,” whispered Simon, eyes wide, hunger blazing in his gut.
“This might be a little uncomfortable,” said Edgin, calm and kind, his cock just nudging Simon's hole. “But I'll go slow.”
Simon inhaled hard, and nodded.
Edgin angled his hips forward, applying soft pressure to Simon's entrance. Slowly, gently, Simon's hole began to open, and he whimpered as Edgin started to slip inside. Oh, fuck, this was what he needed, and it was so good and strange and intimate.
Gradually, his muscles stretched, easily at first – his slick and that preparation easing the way, that thick tip gliding in. But the tip kept getting thicker, and soon he was stretched as wide as three fingers, and his entrance was aching as Edgin still slipped deeper. Whimpering, Simon scrabbled at Edgin's chest, frantic hands seeking an anchor, finally finding his hips – those hips that yet pressed forward, pushing that huge cock ever deeper, spreading him ever more.
“Just breathe, Simon,” Edgin urged, his eyes soft but full of fire. “You're doing so well.”
“Fuck,” whimpered Simon, squeezing Edgin's hips as he advanced, that gentle and relentless cock stretching him so wide. His entrance burned, a tremble lodging in his chest, but he didn't ask him to stop – it was so much, so intense, but it was only almost painful, never quite tipping over. Edgin was true to his promise, the penetration slow and gentle, aching but bearable.
“Nearly there,” murmured Edgin, voice hoarse, and Simon's eyes flew wide as he opened, opened, opened – his virgin entrance stretched taut, then stretching more, then stretching further. Surely he could not take more, could not take it all – but Edgin carefully pried him open, easing those muscles impossibly wide, one fraction at a time.
Simon whined as the head slipped in, fingers clutching Edgin's hips, muscles aching as they spread for the thickest part. The sensation overwhelmed him, stealing his breath, too much and too good.
“Hey,” Edgin whispered, grinning, pausing inside him. “See? I said you'd stretch.”
Simon groaned, all sarcastic retorts lost in the feeling of being so stretched. Edgin chuckled fondly, dipping his head to kiss him. It was a slow and languid kiss, tongues sliding over each other, Simon shaking as he adjusted to the full girth of Edgin's cock. But the taste of Edgin's need, more intense than his raw scent, just fanned the flames blazing in his gut – until Simon shuddered and tugged at Edgin's hips, urging him deeper, begging for the rest.
Edgin complied, slowly sliding in, still so gentle as he impaled Simon fully. Simon moaned as each inch filled him, his slick omega muscles stretching so eagerly, welcoming Edgin in. The pace was so slow, so careful, that his virgin body barely ached, all his secret places singing as Edgin touched them for the first time. The need in his gut sang too, the heat soothed by Edgin's alpha cock, that desperate edge melting into beautiful bliss as Edgin claimed all he had.
As Edgin's hips bumped Simon's ass, he whimpered, clinging tight to the alpha – his alpha, truly his alpha, so deep inside him, stretching his channel wide. “Ed,” he whispered, back arching as a shiver rippled through him. “Edgin.”
“Simon,” groaned Edgin, voice uneven, and it shocked and pleased Simon to know his body could do that to the man, despite all his experience.
Edgin resumed the kiss, still slow but hungry now, desire aching between them. As Edgin's tongue explored his mouth, Simon squeezed his hips again, the hunger in him far from sated – eager to feel him move inside him.
Groaning into the kiss, Edgin began to pull out – a slow slide, faster than that penetration, but so careful and tender. Simon moaned at the friction, at every inch rubbing against his sensitive channel, pleasure skittering up his spine like lightning – then gasped as Edgin pressed back in, filling him up again. Oh, gods, this was what he needed: the friction, the fullness, the incredible stretch of an alpha cock inside him. This was what his heat demanded.
Edgin carefully set up a rhythm, drawing back, gliding in, expertly filling him over and over. Simon shivered at the motion, at the feeling of Edgin in his most private places. Edgin, his friend, his leader, the man who always kept him safe. He'd never felt so close to him, never felt so close to anyone, never shared his body like this. It was – It was so –
“Fuck,” whimpered Simon, sliding his arms around Edgin. “It's so intense.”
Edgin chuckled, soft but ragged with desire. “Uh, yeah. It's a heat and it's your first time. They'll both kinda do that.” His tone was teasing but reassuring, his scent cradling Simon too.
Simon exhaled hard, chest trembling. Yeah, it was true, and it made sense – but it was more than just the physical side, more than the discovery of these sweet sensations. “I... I didn't realise it'd feel this intimate.”
Edgin's forehead creased, and that tang of worry licked at his scent again. “Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” choked Simon, clutching him tight, aching to keep that fullness. “Definitely not.”
“Alright,” said Edgin, half laughing, still slowly thrusting into him.
Fuck, the feeling of that cock inside him. This private act was almost overwhelming, but it felt so good, so right having Edgin pressed so deep. Simon's trust rested in his chest, sweet and heavy, and he leaned on it as Edgin moved within his most intimate space. It was so new, so strange, but he yearned to welcome the sensation – shuddering as he surrendered, easing his thighs wider to encourage Edgin in.
Edgin kept his gentle pace, blue eyes shimmering, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth – lips slightly parted as he panted, hips rocking as he fucked Simon's virgin hole. Whimpering, Simon clung to him. The stretch, the friction, the fullness helped to sate the fire in his gut – but still that need whispered faster, rougher, more. But Simon did not think he could stand that, his heart and his body too delicate, and it was only a whisper, just a whisper, so he pushed it down and embraced the pleasure he already had.
And such pleasure. It tingled, rippled, shuddered through him. And under the hunger of the heat grew another need, more familiar, one that fed on every brush of pleasure – that bliss both sating it and fueling it, consuming each sensation, adding strength to the next before devouring that too. Simon groaned, flexing his hands on Edgin's back. Every movement inside him was so intense, so much, not enough.
Gods, he was so stretched, so full. And that need bloomed as Edgin claimed him, thrusting deep and slow. It coiled on itself, layering thick and heavy, pushing down the urge of the heat – and beckoning another urge to replace it. Gasping, Simon arched his back. His peak, he could feel his peak approaching, just on the horizon.
Blue eyes wide and shimmering, Edgin maintained his pace, pushing that thick cock into him over and over. Each slow slide pulled his peak closer, winding in the rope, that tension curling tighter. Simon clutched at him, trembling. Pleasure rippled through him with every intimate thrust, his heart overwhelmed and his body nearly so.
Edgin's cock opened his private muscles wide, the rub so sweet, the stretch so fierce. His peak was nearly on him now, settling on his skin, drawn close by every mote of friction, every inch of fullness. Simon groaned as Edgin pressed in deep, aching to be so close to him. Fuck, it was so good – intense, incredible, irresistible – pleasure shivering through his body, every thrust a wave of bliss – and he yearned for more, needed more, reached for that peak –
“Ed, I think –” He gasped, clinging to him, body trembling on the edge. “I think I'm gonna come.”
“Good, that's good,” murmured Edgin, eyes lighting up. “Just let go. Coming will soothe your heat.”
Simon whimpered, arching towards him, as Edgin thrust in again and again. The pleasure wrapped around his spine, hunger blazing in his gut, need thrumming in his veins – and he surrendered, reaching out, tipping over –
Groaning deep, Simon came, his virgin channel clenching on Edgin's cock. Bliss swept through him, fierce as a storm, his cock pulsing with every wave. His soul soared, rising on that tide, open and unguarded as he shared his peak with Edgin, every fragile secret exposed. Raw and intense, it overwhelmed him, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before – driven by his heat, driven by Edgin's touch. The pleasure crested, crashed, tumbled him back down to meet himself again.
“Fuck,” he choked in the aftermath, still so full, the sensation of joining with Edgin so intense, enough to dampen his heat a little.
“You okay?” moaned Edgin, pace becoming uneven, need thick in his throat.
“Maybe,” groaned Simon, clinging to him, aching to know the man was also so close.
Edgin kept thrusting, still gentle but jagged now, the movement no longer smooth. His eyes were wide and wild, his scent heavy with desire, whispering need you, Simon, need you. Simon savoured it, savoured being wanted, wanted by an alpha.
A thought trickled into his wrecked mind. Alpha. Edgin was an alpha. “Are – Are you going to knot me?” he asked, part plea and part fear.
“No,” grunted Edgin, still pressing deep. “I don't think you're ready for that.”
As much as the heat clamoured for it, Simon silently agreed. His virgin muscles were so stretched, pulled so wide by that thick cock. Yes, they'd loosened, eased around Edgin, welcomed his full length now. But surely this was the limit, surely he could not take more. How could anyone take a knot?
But a different kind of hunger coiled in him, quiet and earnest. He slipped his hands up to Edgin's shoulders, gently squeezing there. “I – I want to see you come.”
Edgin groaned, rhythm growing far less even. He pulled back slightly, did not press so deep, always keeping his base outside on every thrust – his base, where his knot lurked, ready to swell. Simon shivered with understanding, thumbs rubbing Edgin's collarbones. He drank in every tremble, every shake, every shudder as Edgin pushed into him, savouring the stretch and the intimacy, savouring until –
Edgin moaned, almost stilling, cock pulsing inside him. Simon didn't feel his knot swell, just the edge of it nudging his entrance as it reached full size. Fuck, that was huge, how could anyone – but Edgin's blue eyes were wide and vulnerable, pleasure rippling across his face, and Simon forgot that knot as he ached at the sight, ached to see his friend so open, to know he was coming right inside him.
Panting, shaking, Edgin held steady above him, expression softening as his peak receded. But his cock was still hard, still pressed deep inside – all of it except that knot. Simon flexed his hands on Edgin's shoulders, eyes wide, trembling at the obscene sight of an alpha looming over him, at the stretch of being speared, already missing the movement. He knew that knot would fade without the pressure of his body – but he didn't know how soon, didn't know anything about this intimate act beyond what Edgin had just shown him.
He licked his lips, ignoring the hunger already curling anew in his gut. “How – How long will your knot last?”
Edgin grunted, pleasure still raw in his face. “Couple of minutes. Can you... last that long?”
Breath shaking with need, Simon swallowed. His heat was insistent, the whispers begging though he'd only just come – but the edge wasn't quite as sharp, wasn't quite as painful. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good,” groaned Edgin, and dipped his head to kiss him.
Simon eagerly opened his mouth, urging Edgin inside. That clever tongue slipped in, claiming the space, doubling the penetration – bringing with it the taste of Edgin's need. But the kiss was looser, messier than before, Edgin's scent raw and jumbled – all of those separate layers collapsing into one, a tangle of want, want, want – and Simon realised how intense the effect of that knot was. Like Edgin was halfway in the grip of a rut, demands rushing through his body, almost as strong as Simon's heat.
But as Edgin delved into his mouth, tongue sliding against his, that earlier control slowly returned, fraction by fraction. Soon Edgin was guiding him again, strong and masterful, and Simon surrendered to it, moaning. At that sound, Edgin began to move – hesitantly sliding an inch back, an inch forward, granting Simon a little friction – knot gently bumping his entrance.
Simon shuddered, clinging to him. With every motion, he could feel the knot was slightly smaller, shrinking, fading without the pressure of his body, and Edgin slipped backwards and forwards, carefully rocking into him, just giving him an inch – until the knot was gone and Edgin thrust all the way in, filling him back up, dragging a groan from Simon's throat.
“You okay?” asked Edgin, pausing there, pressed right to Simon's ass, close as could be.
Whimpering, hands scrabbling, Simon found Edgin's hips again. “I need –” he begged, fingers squeezing down, fire flaring inside him. But Edgin was already moving, dependable Edgin already thrusting into him, and Simon moaned at the new rhythm. “Shit. Yes.”
Edgin laughed, soft and kind, though the edge was ragged with hunger. His scent was evening out, and through the haze of his own lust Simon could smell the different tangs again: the promise of protection, the urge to comfort, and a sweet layer of fond affection. Friendly affection, maybe, but the tenderness of it was overwhelming when Edgin was moving deep inside him, filling all his private places.
“Oh, gods,” choked Simon, arching his back, clinging to the alpha. Fuck, it was so much, to be taken like this, stretched and speared, to be so close to another person – so much, but he needed so much, his heat blazing through him, blazing white-hot. He ached for Edgin, ached at the obscene sensations.
Edgin rocked into him, still slow but quicker than before, his channel loose enough to take it now. Pleasure sang with every movement, flashing across his skin like lightning, fierce and forking – splitting into a hundred little tingles as it spread through his body, sating that desperate need. Simon's breath caught in his throat, yearning and raw. Gods, that friction, that incredible fullness, that overwhelming stretch. Every touch was amazing, overwhelming, beautiful, despite the burn of his heat – because of his heat.
Simon whimpered, sliding his arms up Edgin's sweat-slicked back, curling around those muscles. He could feel the power there, trembling at the sight of Edgin looming over him, rutting into him – but Edgin's smile was all soft mischief, eyes bright despite his lust, heavy scent thick with trust – and Simon couldn't help feeling safe, even with his hole stretched wide, even as his heat begged, even as it overwhelmed him. The bliss was building again, another peak drawing near. Edgin's cock pressing into him was so good, so intimate, but it was Ed so it was fine.
Tension coiled in his gut, driven by every intense thrust, pulled taut by every inch of fullness. Little gasps lodged in his throat and Simon squirmed under Edgin, the push of his thrusting cock melting to a pressure that spread throughout his body, heavy and welcome. “Ed,” he moaned, clutching tight, nerves singing with the promise of bliss. “It's – I'm gonna –”
“That's it, keep coming,” urged Edgin, voice thrumming with delight, eyes so tender. “Every peak will help.”
Sucking in a jagged breath, Simon wrapped his legs around Edgin's hips, needing this, needing more, needing him closer, closer, closer yet. “Ed,” he groaned, aching for his alpha, his leader, pleasure winding tight inside him, heat roaring hot, and grabbed for that peak just within his reach –
Gasping, shuddering, Simon clenched on Edgin's cock, bliss crashing through him as the tension unspooled, all his need released. His cock spilled on his stomach again, pulsing with the waves of pleasure, soul spiralling high as Edgin guided him through it, still moving inside him – teasing his most sensitive flesh, filling his most secret places. But there were no secrets as he soared, utterly open to his alpha.
As his soul toppled back into his body, Simon groaned weakly, hands flexing on Edgin's back.
Edgin chuckled softly. “Fuck, I wish you could see how amazing that looks,” he murmured, pride and mischief licking at his lips.
“They've invented mirrors, you know,” grunted Simon, too wrecked to wonder if sarcasm was the wrong choice with Edgin's cock pressed deep inside him. But Edgin chuckled again, and fuck – making him laugh, making his alpha laugh felt almost as good as that friction in his channel.
“Maybe next time,” teased Edgin, but there was something so earnest about his blue eyes that Simon thought maybe – maybe –
A sigh shuddering out of him, Simon let his legs fall back to the mattress, releasing Edgin's hips. He wrapped his arms tighter around Edgin's torso, arching towards him slightly. That peak had soothed his heat a little, but every glide of that thick cock inside him summoned a flash of pleasure. “Ed, are you –” he moaned, body trembling under him. “Are you nearly –”
“Yeah,” grunted Edgin, rhythm slipping, becoming uneven. He pulled back a bit, keeping his base outside, ready for his knot to swell. “Yeah.”
Dazed, sated but not sated, Simon gazed up at him. He tilted his hips wider, welcoming the alpha in, urging him to find that pleasure.
Another two thrusts and Edgin groaned, stilling, cock pulsing in his channel. Simon inhaled sharply; he felt the knot grow this time, that harsh bulb nudging his entrance as it expanded, thick and obscene. Fuck, there was something so raw about that, something that called to him, an instinct deeper than his heat. He stroked his fingers over Edgin's back, savouring the sight of the man coming above him, inside him.
“Fuck,” muttered Edgin, squeezing his eyes shut, breathing hard.
Simon shivered under him. He knew how long that knot would last now, so he clung to the alpha as his heat thrummed in his veins. That need was waking already, aching inside him – but Edgin began to move again, that little forward and back, the same taste as the first time. Simon moaned, savouring the friction, but measuring the knot every time it bumped his entrance, ebbing with every thrust – until Edgin's eyes flickered open and he pushed in to the hilt, claiming Simon again.
“How's the heat?” asked Edgin, voice low and raw, blue eyes wide as he found a rhythm again. “Getting better?”
“Don't know,” gasped Simon, shaking at the intensity, his delicate channel so utterly stretched. “Maybe. When I come, yeah, but then...”
Edgin frowned, a note of concern humming in his throat, steady scent flickering with a tang of worry. But he kept moving, kept thrusting, filling Simon over and over, the motion smooth and devastating.
Whimpering, Simon sank into the mattress, too wrecked by his peaks, too ruined by his heat to do much more than clutch at Edgin's torso. Fuck, that friction was incredible, that stretch unbelievable, that fullness irresistible. Already pleasure was building inside him, bliss whispering over his skin. His heat sang to him, begging for more, that fire blazing in his gut. His hole was so slick, his no-longer-virgin muscles loose and eager now. Every sensation was amazing and he welcomed Edgin in, welcomed him deep inside, savouring this intimate bliss.
They'd only just resumed but he was already overwhelmed. Simon moaned, hands sliding up to rest on Edgin's shoulders. Gods, maybe it was the heat, maybe he was getting used to it, maybe it was the sheer intensity of that cock sliding inside him after he'd come on it twice – but pleasure roared through him, desperate and sweet, faster and bigger and harder than before.
“Ed,” he choked, fingers squeezing down, eyes wide. “Ed, I'm –”
“It's okay,” murmured Edgin, so gently, his cock relentless. “You're okay. This is normal. Just relax, let go when you're ready.” His scent bloomed, wrapping around Simon's needy aroma, assuring even as the heaviest musk growled want you, Simon, want you.
Shuddering with need, Simon tipped his thighs wider. Fuck, he was so stretched, Edgin was so deep inside him, and every intimate inch pulled that tension tighter, coiling round his spine as he gasped and arched beneath the alpha. Already his heat was clamouring loud, already the blaze was scorching his gut, already the bliss was spreading through his body. He ached with it, overwhelmed – by the speed, the intensity, the closeness.
Another peak loomed on the horizon, and it felt like too much, too soon – but Edgin's voice and scent were whispering it's okay, it's okay, just let go – oh, too soon, too much, not enough – and Simon whimpered, clinging to him – aching as Edgin filled him up – pleasure and fire wrapping together – not enough, not enough – but it was Edgin, Ed, his Ed – just let go –
Simon's throat rumbled with a deep groan as he came, surrendering to it, to the sensation, to Edgin. His loose, slick channel rippled on Edgin's cock, still thrusting through his peak, bliss burning through his core. Cock pulsing, back arching, his soul shook with the force of it, like a storm crashing over the shore. It was pure and raw and aching, battering him for the third time.
“Fuck,” he whimpered, as the pleasure faded, as he came back to himself.
“You okay?” grunted Edgin, kind but edged with his own need, still rutting into him.
“Nngh,” croaked Simon, because he was and he wasn't – that peak was bearable, but only just, and his heat was roaring in his veins, begging for more, more, more. But he couldn't come again, not yet, even if Edgin was pushing so deep, stretching him open, filling him up – but what else was there, what else – oh, fuck –
“Simon?” Edgin said, voice faltering, that tang of concern drifting in the air. He didn't stop, but his thrusts stuttered, faltering too – with his approaching peak as much as worry.
“Ed,” whispered Simon, throat raw with need, lifting one hand to press his palm to Edgin's cheek. “I'm okay, Ed, but I need –”
“Yeah?” urged Edgin, soft and hungry, eyebrows raised.
Simon licked his lips, brushing his thumb over Edgin's cheek. “I want – Would you knot me?”
Edgin froze, eyes so wide, a groan rumbling deep in his throat. “Simon, you don't mean that. It's just the heat talking.”
“Of course it's the heat talking,” huffed Simon, skin tingling with need, body aching for those thrusts to resume. “I'm on fucking fire. What sensible omega would want a knot without a heat? But I need – And I'm so loose now, Ed, you can feel that, you know I could take it – So please – Please, I –”
Edgin moaned, a tremble running across his shoulders. “It's not just the stretch, Simon. You've never –” He swallowed. “Fucking is intimate, but knotting is just – just so much more. And once you've started, you can't just stop.”
Simon shivered, stomach clenching at the idea. But even under the roar of the heat, even under the weight of his desire, there was a core of certainty, a pearl shining bright. “Ed, it's you. I trust you. I trust you with everything. Literally trusted your plan to keep me alive this morning.”
“And look how that turned out,” said Edgin, smiling wryly, pointedly glancing at the fresh amulet waiting on the table.
Simon groaned, tipping his head back. “If – If you don't want to, then – Fuck – At least start thrusting again. I can't – can't bear this –”
Edgin paused, still lodged halfway inside him. That thick alpha scent swelled, filling the air, and beneath the lust, beneath the assurance, Simon could smell a tang of indecision, fresh and bittersweet. He urged his own scent to meet it, hoping it would reflect his certainty, because he was sure – he was so rarely sure of anything, but he was sure about Edgin, sure about this.
“Shit,” moaned Edgin, blue eyes flickering. “You really mean it.”
“Yeah,” croaked Simon, flexing his fingers on Edgin's cheek. “I want you to knot me.”
Edgin moaned again. “Okay,” he said, and then pulled out.
Simon stared up at him, heart lurching, the fire in his gut screaming without that penetration. He opened his mouth to protest –
Then Edgin's hand was nudging at his shoulder, gently urging him to move. “Roll onto your side. I need more support for this. Arms and legs already getting tired,” he said, and chuckled.
Simon swallowed, letting that hand guide him into his new position, shock and desire rattling through him as Edgin shifted in behind. He inhaled a trembling breath as Edgin settled there, chest pressed to his spine, one arm curling over to hold him close. Gods, Edgin was really – He was actually going to do this.
Edgin guided himself back inside, pressing a kiss to Simon's shoulder, and Simon shivered as he stretched again. Fuck, he was already so full, way too full – but his heat was clawing at him, begging, pleading, and he really needed – and Edgin wouldn't do this unless he could take it, Ed wouldn't.
“You're sure, yeah?” muttered Edgin, right behind his ear, voice breathy with desire as he began to thrust again, slow and gentle.
“Yeah,” whispered Simon, chest trembling, stomach clenching hard. “Is this – Is it going to hurt?”
Edgin slipped into him, gliding out, filling him up. “A little, at first,” he admitted, real apology in his tone, real regret in his scent. “But that'll pass. You'll stretch for it.”
Simon whimpered. “Right.”
“Still sure?” murmured Edgin, arm wrapping over Simon's chest, strong and protective. “This is gonna be intense, gonna be really intimate. And we'll be locked together for half an hour, maybe more. You can still change your mind now, but...”
Simon swallowed, aching with the fullness, aching with need, aching at the thought of that thick knot. “I trust you,” he said, laying his arm over Edgin's, veins pulsing with desire.
Edgin groaned, slow thrusts stuttering, and kissed the nape of Simon's neck. “Okay. Okay,” he said, voice raw and trembling. “Relax, Simon, I need you to relax.”
Anticipation shivering through him, Simon wondered how he was meant to do that. His heat was blazing fierce, his hole was filled to the brim, and his alpha's scent sang in the air, raw and heavy, thick with desire for him. But Edgin asked, so he tried, moaning.
Edgin rocked into him – all the way in, pressing his full length in, down to the base. Simon could feel the bulb of his knot, swollen a fraction already, signalling the imminent peak. He was loose and slick, but he burned a little on it, opening his widest yet. But he knew there was more to come, so much more, and he trembled in Edgin's arms as he felt those thrusts begin to falter – fuck, could he really – but his heat was roaring inside him, need clawing at his flesh, and it was Edgin, his Ed –
“Simon,” groaned Edgin, voice wavering, thrusts uneven. “Simon, I'm going to –”
“Yeah,” whispered Simon, clutching at Edgin's arm.
Edgin thrust in to the hilt. A heartbeat, a moan, and then Simon felt it – Edgin's knot swelling inside him, sudden and huge, prying his delicate muscles apart. Simon yelped, tensing, trying not to tense, pain flaring in his inexperienced hole, an ache deeper than any before – but his heat hissed in triumph, that fire soothing, unsated need melting to fulfilled desire, desperate pleasure burning beneath his skin.
Edgin held him tight, trembling against him, his embrace as kind as his knot was merciless. The alpha's scent flowed thick and free, the sour notes whispering sorry, I'm sorry and the sweet ones singing you're okay, you're alright, you'll stretch. And in the middle, that heavy musk groaning oh fuck, oh fuck, you feel so good, so good on my knot, Simon.
Breath lodging in his throat, Simon shuddered through it, overwhelmed by the moment. His body ached around that knot, his heart ached at Edgin's desire, his soul ached to be so close. Shit, Edgin had warned him – But the burn was easing, his hole loosening, muscles learning to welcome Edgin's knot. And gods, it really was so much more than fucking. But it was still Ed, his friend Ed, his leader Ed – the man he trusted more than himself, the alpha who always looked after him.
“Fuck,” moaned Edgin, arms relaxing slightly. He pressed his lips to Simon's shoulder, speaking almost into his skin. “Y-You okay?”
Simon inhaled a whimper. “I'm okay,” he breathed, which was just about true. Gods, it was so much, so much of everything, but it was Ed and – and he was okay.
Edgin shuddered, curling into him; Simon felt his knot throb inside him. “How's the heat?” he asked, voice wrecked and raw. “A knot should – should help it dissipate.”
Simon assessed; the hunger was still simmering in his gut, but it was quieter now, the urge less urgent – sated by that thick bulb stretching him wide, fuck, wider than seemed possible. “It's helping,” he whispered, clinging to Edgin. “But it's still...”
“Good. Yeah,” muttered Edgin, palm pressing to Simon's chest. “You might need to be knotted a few times. This is a damn strong heat.”
Worry and anticipation fluttered in Simon's gut at the thought of being knotted again – oh, again and again – and yes, his body was loosening, easing around that achingly thick bulb, but the intimacy of it wasn't fading, wouldn't fade, and they'd only just started – and how long had Edgin said, half an hour? Half an hour this would last? And all because he hadn't –
“I'm sorry,” he croaked, clutching at Edgin's arm. “I know I should have...”
Edgin caught his hand, squeezed it gently, kind and tender. “Never go five years again,” he said, a groan blooming to a laugh.
Simon swallowed. He knew Edgin was teasing, but... “I'll try. But it really depends.”
“Six months,” huffed Edgin, panting a little, thumb rubbing Simon's hand. “Six months and we'll do this again.”
A jolt jabbed through Simon's chest, half shock, half affection. “You'd do that...?” He'd thought this was a one-time deal, just a friend solving an emergency, Edgin guiding him through a crisis as usual.
“Someone's gotta look after you,” teased Edgin, lacing their fingers together.
“Might as well be you,” Simon said faintly, heart quivering in his chest.
“Definitely gonna be me,” declared Edgin, a possessive rumble in his voice, a moment of pure alpha slipping through.
Simon swallowed, trembling in those strong arms, shivering on that thick knot. “Six months then,” he murmured, and almost whimpered as Edgin kissed his neck, chuckling into his skin.
“Gods, you're an idiot,” teased Edgin, his tone achingly fond. “And I'm an idiot for doing this. I'm forty, I shouldn't be taking your virginity.”
“Sorry,” muttered Simon, but with those warm arms, that warm scent wrapped around him even he could barely summon any guilt. “It's good though. This – This feels good. And I'm glad it's you, Ed. I'm glad. Even without the heat, I would...”
Edgin pulled him closer, knot still lodged inside him. “Yeah? You'd like that?”
“No, orgasms are terrible,” said Simon, the sarcasm biting in his hoarse voice. “Why would I want one more than every six months?”
Edgin snorted, thumb rubbing the back of Simon's hand. “Fair point. Okay. Sure. Maybe we won't wait for a heat. But no knots unless it's a heat, yeah?”
“Yeah,” mumbled Simon, and swallowed hard. Gods, Ed was really agreeing – seemed really eager, actually, really into the idea of them fucking now, despite the teasing – and he wasn't going to argue about knotting. Fuck, that thick bulb was stretching him so wide, spreading his barely-deflowered hole, plugging him right up. His heat was simmering now, a smooth and consistent ache, need whispering but mostly sated by that pleasure. He was so loose, so slick – but Simon knew he was never this loose without a heat. Taking a knot without it, fuck...
Maybe that trepidation leaked into his scent, because Edgin released his hand, wrapping his arms tighter around him. “You are okay, yeah? Really okay?”
Gods, he was so full, Edgin was locked inside him so intimately. But with Edgin's arms holding him, Edgin's scent melding with his, Edgin asking so carefully... It felt right, somehow. Natural. He'd always hated being an omega – weak, awkward omega Simon; useless, failed sorcerer Simon – but Edgin never treated him like that. And doing this with Ed, letting Ed push inside him, letting Ed knot him... he really was okay with it. Comfortable with it. For the first time, that instinct felt good.
“Really okay,” assured Simon, arching back into him. “Though I don't think my heat's going to finish any time soon.”
Edgin chuckled, soft and teasing, and brushed his fingers over Simon's chest. “No, I don't think so either,” he said, and pressed his palm to Simon's skin for a moment before letting go of him, reaching back with his arm, behind both of them. Fabric rustled, then Edgin pulled the blankets over them, flapping them across from the unoccupied side of the bed. “You should sleep if you can. My knot won't go down for a while, but when it does we're gonna have to do this all again. And then probably a few times more. It's gonna be a long day.”
Simon swallowed, an awkward laugh slipping between his lips. “Yeah. Long day,” he muttered, body and soul already aching at the thought of being fucked, of being knotted. But it was a sweet ache, and only exhaustion worried him.
“Try and have a nap,” urged Edgin, curling his arm across Simon's chest again, tugging the blankets across too. “I'll wake you when my knot fades, if your heat doesn't wake you first.”
Inhaling a trembling breath, Simon leaned against him. “Won't you need sleep?” he asked, heart quivering at the thought of drifting off with Edgin still inside him, Edgin's knot still pressing on his body.
Edgin chuckled. “Yeah, we should both sleep. But my knot fading will definitely wake me. And then we can...”
Simon shivered at the implication. “Right, right,” he whispered, laying his arm over Edgin's again, seeking an anchor – one less intense than the knot lodged inside him.
Fondly, tenderly, Edgin laid a kiss on Simon's shoulder. “Just close your eyes,” he murmured, his scent thrumming in the air, thick with reassurance. “Get some sleep, Simon.”
A sigh rippling in his throat, Simon closed his eyes. Fuck, the idea of sleeping with Edgin's knot inside, it was so... There was something so intimate about it, a quiet surrender, aching with trust. But he did trust Edgin. He was comfortable with Edgin. And he was getting used to that pressure, that incredible pressure, growing comfortable even with that. It was Ed's knot, and it felt good.
“Just sleep,” urged Edgin, soft and gentle, cradling him close. “I'll look after you, Simon. I'll look after you.”
Simon relaxed against the mattress. Yeah, he was full of knot, still simmering with heat. He'd never imagined napping with a knot inside him. But this was Ed. And Ed always looked after him.
He sighed, ready to surrender. Ed always looked after him...