[Fic] Precautions
Title: Precautions
Pairing: Chanyeol/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Genre: alpha/beta/omega dynamics
Warnings: sexual situations, knotting, rimming
Summary: As an omega, Kris schedules his life around his heats - to the point where some even think he's a beta. But there starts a pattern that even his normal precautions don't protect him from. (Original prompt here.)
***
On a warm day like they had chosen to eat outside, they were inevitable joined by a number of others taking advantage of the heat. Granted, Kris wasn’t so much of a picnicker that they took along a blanket or anything, but the park had benches and that was far good enough. It seems it suited Chanyeol just fine as well, from the noises of enjoyment he made as they demolished their chicken.
“This is the perfect way to spend an afternoon,” Chanyeol said with his mouth partly full of food. Good drinks, good food, good company. Getting together in groups was nice, but getting together just them was nice, too. There were reasons to that that he didn’t really care to think about, but they still existed. Chanyeol was his friend. A good friend, even, and someone he enjoyed being with. Chanyeol had a natural kind of exuberance, a wide smile, and a laugh that betrayed his amusement of things. He spoke and his voice was low, something that caught at the ears and either caused people to lean in, or away.
Kris had a hard time not leaning in.
Part of it, he supposed, but didn’t let himself dwell on, was the fact that Chanyeol was an alpha. If one were to form baseless opinions on stature or voice, Chanyeol might seem like he had been meant for his alpha status. Kris had height on Chanyeol, but he was no alpha. In fact, Kris knew a good number of alphas who were of any size, any temperament. Most people Kris met assumed he was a beta, and Kris felt like he might’ve preferred that option. Betas didn’t have to worry about mixed scent signals, heats, knotting. They got to move about their lives unaware of the complicated dance taking place for the other two-thirds of the population. It was easy to tell who the alphas were, because omegas and other alphas could smell them. It wasn’t pheromones, not exactly, just a unique scent that declared themselves as alphas and secure.
Biology had been kind to omegas, though. They weren’t lesser, but different. Unless their heat was beginning, they were scent-less, which protected them from trailing alphas interested in them. And that was why most people assumed Kris was a beta. He never let them know otherwise.
“You’re not afraid when I’m driving, are you?” Chanyeol asked. “I think Baekhyun is just trying to say that to get to me, because I don’t feel unsafe. I know the rules! I haven’t hit anything yet.”
Kris laughed, swirling the last of his juice in the container. “I’ve only driven with you twice, but I didn’t feel unsafe.”
“See!” Chanyeol said, and flopped back.
“Maybe he’s just trying to show you who the alpha is.”
“You think he wants to drive? Oh. Not in my car,” Chanyeol muttered, and Kris couldn’t help laughing again as Chanyeol squirmed his discontent.
It started as a flush on his cheeks, a warmth that had Kris fanning himself with a museum brochure. They were half-in, half-out of the sun and even though there was a breeze it seemed hotter on him than it had. It was an interesting museum, right around the corner. He thought they should visit it, after they ate. Chanyeol was looking at the brochure, too, the one Kris still held, and Kris nearly opened his mouth to ask about it when he watched Chanyeol’s eyes drop.
And Kris felt the first, telltale throb.
He should’ve run, but it was responsibility that had him first texting the address he was at so he could get a beta-operated taxi, and gathering trash as Chanyeol shifted.
“Did I know you were an omega?” Chanyeol asked, his voice absent, almost detached and Kris nearly threw something at him because that wasn’t the time to be discussing his imminent heat.
“Help me get this stuff together. I need to go.”
“Right,” Chanyeol said, snapping out of it and Kris nearly hissed when their hands brushed, trying to reach for the same wrapper at once.
When Chanyeol stood, Kris wasn’t sure why, until he saw a man, another alpha, twenty feet away and scenting. Chanyeol didn’t make a sound, only stared, and the man kept walking by.
It was Kris who couldn’t meet Chanyeol’s eyes after that.
The trash was sorted and stuffed into the cans and Kris held very still, inhaling deep for a long moment as he realized Chanyeol was staring at his neck, his mouth.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Kris had seen Chanyeol around omegas in heat. The way his head went up, inhaling and looking around as thought hungry for something he didn’t know how to find. Picturing that didn’t help the flood of reactions in him.
For an alpha without a bond, an omega was a powerful lure.
It wasn’t Chanyeol that he was afraid of, when he took his precautions. Some omegas, their heats were irregular, some even starting when they were near someone they were sexually attracted to. Kris had his down to with a day before or after that he knew his would start. It made planning his life easier. He had a bag packed, and he would leave his apartment two days early, holing up in a secure hotel used for those kinds of things. He didn’t want alphas in his building or nearby to know there was an available omega there. And behind the doors with their many locks, he felt safe. Food was delivered through a small locking opening, almost like he was in a prison cell. But the staff, mostly betas or already claimed omegas, could at least get things to him that he needed.
Heats weren’t optional. There was no magic pill that would make it stop, or make it shorter. He’d heard of omegas that went fuck-crazy during their heats, unable to bear it for days of endless cycles of need. Some, barely had an uptick in libido at all. Kris was somewhere in between. He wanted, but not so much he wanted to find the nearest available alpha and beg to be knotted.
“You’re an omega,” Chanyeol said, coming up near him - a few feet away - as the taxi pulled up.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I-“ Kris wrenched open the door of the taxi and climbed in.
The address of the omega-safe hotel tumbled out of him, and he turned to Chanyeol who was hovering beside the taxi as though another alpha was going to spring in if he let the door go.
“I’ll go with you,” Chanyeol said, sliding in beside him and shutting the taxi door. “Even if I can’t- I’ll get you there safe.”
It was only a few miles. It wouldn’t be that bad. It couldn’t be that bad.
Kris nodded at the taxi driver, and they drove.
Kris’s head fell back against the taxi seat, and he swallowed the whimper that threatened when he relaxed his legs and let them fall open. It was a bad decision, he knew it, when Chanyeol gasped, hand going white on the door handle. He couldn’t even apologize, not in the taxi like that. Kris wasn’t sure what all Chanyeol could smell - his arousal or the scent of his heat, maybe both. Pheromones, the adjusting of his body to be taken if that was what he wanted.
The barest, glancing thought made his cock throb, and Chanyeol’s breath hitched. Yes. He could smell that. But he could smell Chanyeol too, like warm blankets and sun-drenched rainy afternoons and the bitter rasp of tea.
“Have you ever-“ Chanyeol asked.
Kris shook his head. “No.”
“Oh.” And Chanyeol’s voice wavered, like he regretted everything.
They had to get there soon. His hands were clenched beside his hips to keep himself from rubbing his thighs or shifting to release any more scent. Even without moving, it felt like the taxi interior had raised ten degrees, a trickle of sweat running down his chest.
And when they turned the corner nearest the hotel, his prayers were finally answered. He had the money ready, shoving it at the driver and almost hissing until Chanyeol climbed out first.
“Sorry about this,” Kris said, and walked briskly with Chanyeol keeping pace. “We’ll… I’ll call you next week, or-“
“Yeah, okay,” Chanyeol said, sounding as out of breath as Kris felt.
And with Chanyeol there, heat or no, he wanted to lean in. He nearly flinched when he met Chanyeol’s eyes, interest, maybe even hunger there that had his heart skipping.
The doorman let Kris pass, because he had no more words, walking on knees that felt infirm all the way to the check-in desk.
“A room, quick,” Kris said, and the woman behind the desk nodded.
“Of course, sir.”
He waited as she prated a form, thought of Chanyeol’s laugh, the way his hand had curled around Kris’s arm before they’d sat down to eat. He touched so casually, and it had almost always been something that Kris had craved. If he had to choose one alpha that he would want-
“Do you have rooms for- For alphas and..?” Kris asked, his breath catching him short even as embarrassment ate at him.
“In the building directly behind us,” the woman told him. “No alphas are allowed in here, but that-“
Kris didn’t wait for her explanation, turning and moving out the secured doors. If Chanyeol was still there, then maybe. Maybe. And maybe it was luck, or something worse than that, because Chanyeol hadn’t gone far, maybe twenty feet, leaning against the building and taking slow, deep breaths. He could have gone back inside and changed his mind, waited and talked with Chanyeol later without the maze of hormones racing through him, and he didn’t want to.
“Do you want me?” Kris asked when he got close enough.
“What?” Chanyeol asked, not even looking at him as though that would protect him.
“My heat wasn’t due for days. I just- Do you want me?”
Chanyeol made a sound that was nearly a moan, his hand pressed hard against the brick.
“If you want me, come with me,” Kris told him. “Or I need to go in before another alpha decides-“
“Let’s go,” Chanyeol rasped, and took Kris’s offered hand.
The building behind the omega haven had less security, but it still had some. There would be no lone alphas entering to fight for omega rights, and Kris kept Chanyeol beside him as he paid, feeling too flushed and warm under the lights. The beta at the counter handed him a small bag.
“Just call if you need more,” he said.
Kris peeked in, during the elevator ride, and realized it was packets of lube in case his body could not get wet enough. As wet as he felt he was getting, he didn’t think that would be an issue. Though past reference was limited to his own fingers and a variety of toys, not to…
His eyes raced down Chanyeol’s body, fixing for only a moment at the closure of Chanyeol’s pants before darting to take in his clenched jaw and drawn eyebrows. He looked like a man about to go to war, and Kris’s chest went tight. Chanyeol wasn’t touching him. He’d seen alphas around omegas in heat. Once he’d dropped Chanyeol’s hand to check in, Chanyeol hadn’t touched him.
When the elevator chimed, Kris held the door open and turned before Chanyeol could get out.
“Are you sure?”
Chanyeol’s eye widened in surprise, and Kris nearly leaned into the touch as Chanyeol cupped his neck with his palm.
“Yes. If you are,” Chanyeol said, close enough that Kris could nearly feel his words.
He forgot all the other times, the heats he hadn’t been desperate for an alpha to stay with him. That time he was. That was the one time it counted.
***
When Kris threw himself into the shower, it was ritual, and not one they could share. He hadn’t even bothered to strip first, pulling off wet clothes and rinsing off all scents of the outside, washing clean. When they were through, he would smell of himself, and of Chanyeol, and nothing else. In the gap under the door, he could see shadows move as he dried himself, Chanyeol pacing. There would be no strip show that day, not even for him. Chanyeol’s shirt and pants and socks were against one wall, one hand a restless movement on his hip where his underwear was doing its best to contain his hard cock. That would get him through his heat. His breath sighed out of him as Chanyeol looked him up and down.
For some, it was impersonal, a function that needed to be dealt with. He’d heard of omegas that had a different alpha every heat, and omegas that refused to take the knot until they had the promise of a bond. He’d dated half a dozen alphas and fantasized about taking some of their knots, but the bone-deep desire hadn’t been there. Maybe because he’d never been around them during his heat, or maybe because they’d never been compatible.
Chanyeol’s skin felt almost cool when he pressed up against him, skin against skin and the contrast of cloth, and the spread of Chanyeol’s hands against his hips. He could smell the deeper edge of want, traced along Chanyeol’s skin, and he hummed as Chanyeol’s hand stroked up his back. He was desperate, but not that desperate. Spur of the moment decision, maybe. Irrational, no. So he drank in Chanyeol’s warmth, his scent, his touch, and did what he had fantasized doing for some months.
“Oh,” Chanyeol breathed, as Kris took to his knees. If he was going to experience Chanyeol as he had in his fantasies, he wanted all of him.
Chanyeol’s underwear dropped and Kris took his cock in his hand. Warm and thick and longer than the width of his four fingers, it felt solid, substantial. At its base, his fingertips explored the thickening, what would be the knot when it was time. His tongue against the head of Chanyeol’s cock caused a moan, and he nearly moaned himself. Bitter against his tongue and yet still appealing. It would be in him. Soon. The soft moans Chanyeol gave as Kris wrapped his lips around him only made the want grow. Chanyeol’s hand cupping the back of his neck, the slide of Chanyeol’s cock against his tongue, it made him ache. It usually took hours to get to that point, past the first stages of heat where the arousal was a gentle buzz that he could nearly ignore.
He wanted Chanyeol to come in his mouth. He wanted to suck until Chanyeol could not hold back, swallowing him straight to the knot. He needed Chanyeol’s moans, needed him to moan so loud he couldn’t hear his own moans over Chanyeol’s. But Kris moaned as he pulled away, Chanyeol’s cock wet from his mouth.
Kris needed Chanyeol inside him more.
He was panting as Chanyeol helped him up, walked with him, until Chanyeol slid onto the edge of the bed beside him. His skin was hot, and Chanyeol felt hotter than that, their thighs together, Chanyeol’s hand on his belly.
“Oh,” he moaned at the wet kisses Chanyeol pressed against his neck. Though he rubbed Chanyeol’s thigh, it wasn’t enough. But he had little enough time to think that as Chanyeol gripped his cock and began to stroke. Wet against his neck, insistent fingers against his cock nearly had him lifting off the bed.
Maybe it was an alpha’s touch. Maybe he would have reacted to anyone-
But the heat had come on so suddenly. And Kris hadn’t been with just anyone. He wondered if Chanyeol knew, or if Chanyeol even thought to wonder about the heat. He wasn’t hard for anyone else. Just-
“How quick do you get hard in a heat?” Chanyeol asked, jacking him quick enough that it was making it hard to think.
He groaned, rolling his head against Chanyeol’s. “Really quick.”
Chanyeol grinned and a tingle of arousal shot through him as he rested back and moved fully onto the bed under Chanyeol’s pressing hand.
It was so easy to hear how wet he was when he spread his legs. His cock curved up against his belly, balls tight and swollen, and he was wet and so sensitive that even the touch of Chanyeol’s fingertip had his head thrashing. He felt like he would come if Chanyeol just put a finger in him, just touched him a little more.
“You smell so good,” Chanyeol said, his nose trailing down Kris’s inner thigh. Not just the scent of his heat but the scent of his body as Chanyeol rocked up Kris’s hips to nuzzle against his balls.
When Chanyeol’s tongue pressed into him, he made an unconscious sound, fingers scraping along the sheets. There had been no resistance, just wet on wet, open for anything Chanyeol wanted. To press Chanyeol’s tongue, his fingers, his cock. Anything. As long as he could come. He was too on edge to focus on anything but want.
Kris wondered how he tasted - he knew how he tasted to himself, but to Chanyeol. The little sounds of enjoyment Chanyeol made as he licked and pressed his tongue deep made Kris think that he liked it. Kris’s body grew more and more tense with every wet smack of Chanyeol’s lips and drag of his tongue. It only made him wetter, unsure how much more he could take with his cock making sticky trails on his stomach.
“Please,” he begged.
And Chanyeol did not miss at all, his wet lips mouthing at Kris’s balls as his fingers first teased, and then slid into him. More solid than Chanyeol’s tongue, Kris’s breath caught at the sensation, squeezing tight around them just to feel them more.
“Better?” Chanyeol asked.
All he could do was make a sound. And another when Chanyeol smiled, his tongue snaking and swirling up the length of Kris’s cock. It throbbed and ached, begging how he could not as Chanyeol waited, and breathed against him.
Kris tried to lift his hips, tried to encourage as best he could as Chanyeol sucked gently but made no move to wrap his mouth around Kris’s cock. The gentle fucking of Chanyeol’s fingers was little better than his tongue had been. It kept him on edge and no more as Chanyeol licked against his stomach, licked everywhere but where Kris wanted.
But Chanyeol’s head rose, and he lifted Kris’s cock with two fingers.
“Chanyeol,” he said, the name soft and guttural.
“Kris.”
It was a reply. And so was the way that Chanyeol engulfed his cock, his warm, wet mouth sliding down it, and groaning as Kris lifted his hips. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t. Chanyeol had been tormenting him whether he knew it or not, the prickle of pleasure right near orgasm nearly spearing through him with every touch Chanyeol made.
And he moaned, limp on the bed, his eyes nearly crossed as he reached for Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol was no longer teasing.
Chanyeol’s fingers plunging into him. The obscene wet sucking of his mouth. He was getting wetter, getting harder, fingers tangled in Chanyeol’s hair.
Until Chanyeol nearly stopped, sucking gentling, tongue soft, fingertips against his prostate and hand cradling his balls.
But it was the friction of Chanyeol’s tongue that drew him up, the pull of his mouth. The pleasure rose, pushing all rational thought out as Chanyeol’s fingers began to slide again.
“Chan-“ He gasped, hung on the precipice of orgasm, cock pulsing, and body taut. “Oh!”
Chanyeol’s lips sealed around him and sucked hard, fingers slamming into him as Kris arched and shot into Chanyeol’s mouth. His body was on fire, cock white-hot as he moaned and came. He couldn’t hear himself over the thundering of his heart and his gasps, back arching as Chanyeol’s mouth made him spasm again, spilling more semen against Chanyeol’s tongue.
When Chanyeol lifting his head, Kris was still half hard - he’d never be less until his heat broke. But Chanyeol’s lips were red and wet, and he was panting.
And though Kris had just come in his mouth, Chanyeol looked at him like he was hungry.
And though Kris had had just come, when he saw Chanyeol’s cock hard and ready, he understood.
Chanyeol’s tongue distracted him, licking over the lips he’d just been sucking his cock with. A hand, wide and warm pressed to the center of Kris’s chest, and Chanyeol met his eyes.
“You taste good,” Chanyeol said, and Kris inhaled. “Do- I didn’t want to stop eating you out. Fuck.”
His sentiments exactly. It wasn’t like he could offer his ass any time Chanyeol was bored, though right then he could’ve been urged to offer just that.
But offered in a different way, putting aside Chanyeol’s arm and half rolling until he could push himself up. It was traditional but no less hot when he went to his hands and knees. There were a lot of tasteful names for it over the years, like taking the knot and mating. He just remembered at 17, his grandfather laughing in another room that one day an alpha would take him in hand and Kris would present himself for a thorough knotting. He’d jerked off for months with that word echoing in his head, a word none of his books implied. A guy would stick his dick in him and fill him up, and he’d come until he couldn’t come any more.
Half a dozen years later, it was finally happening.
He moaned at the headboard as Chanyeol’s breath warmed him, licking at the wet before sliding his tongue into Kris again. For a moment he almost thought that Chanyeol wouldn’t stop, right when he finally thought he was getting what he needed.
“Fuck,” Chanyeol said again, both hands roaming Kris’s hips as he went back for one more taste. The bed dipped between Kris’s legs, and his stomach tightened. “I feel like I’m going to explode. I’ve never- Kris. Ready?”
“Slow,” Kris said, all he could get out. Acceptance, urging, instruction.
With his knees solid, he planted his elbows, and gasped audibly as Chanyeol’s cock rubbed against him. It grew slicker from his own body, once nearly pressing in before backing away.
Every press of Chanyeol’s lips against his back, every touch of Chanyeol’s hands and cock, had his own cock throbbing. But it was nothing to how empty he felt, the tease only making it worse. Without Chanyeol’s fingers, without even a touch to his neglected cock, he felt flushed, in agony. If he’d been alone, he would have fucked himself with his fingers or a toy until he came, and then he would have done it again.
“Are you trying to torture me,” Kris groaned.
The sound Chanyeol made had his head spinning. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t come as soon as I push into you.”
Chanyeol’s voice was so hoarse, so rough, so unlike what Kris knew.
“If it’s a minute or an hour, I need-“ Kris thought twice of finishing that sentence. On one hand it sounded wildly sentimental, as though no other alpha could have satisfied. On another, it came too close to-
But Chanyeol shifted and braced himself. And they both moaned when he finally began to press himself in.
“You’re taking me right in,” Chanyeol marveled.
“You’ve teased me long enough.”
But he cried out when Chanyeol could press no further, the ridge where the knot would be sliding into him. It had grown thicker since Kris’s mouth had touched it.
“I’d jerk off- I wondered what you would sound like if I got you like this,” Chanyeol said, breathing in such hard pants. “I didn’t even know if I’d get to.”
Kris’s cock was dripping onto the sheets, his eyes slamming closed at Chanyeol’s admission. Maybe, just maybe, Chanyeol had wanted him for a while.
“Oh.”
“Did you think of me?” Chanyeol asked, and then allowed, “You’ll think of me now.”
Kris nearly barked out a laugh and remembered the times he’d writhed on the bed and shouted Chanyeol’s name at the ceiling.
Yes, as the knot dragged into him again, he knew he would think of Chanyeol again.
“Is this what you wanted?” Kris asked. “Me on my knees. Putting your knot where no one’s has ever been.”
Chanyeol moaned against his back, and Kris gasped. The endless rolling of Chanyeol’s hips. Each full press, each time he braced himself. He’d been fucked before, a couple of curious betas, and it had been fun but it had never been in a heat. They had never gripped his hips as Chanyeol was, forceful, but not slashing at him, not ripping the knot away. The more it grew, the better it felt, the soft grunts from Chanyeol when Kris squeezed around it.
The moan didn’t even sound like himself as the growing knot pulled from him. It had stung that time. It would not easily fit or release much longer, and Chanyeol knew.
“I can keep it out of you,” Chanyeol gasped.
“Please.” The thought of being empty made his body shudder. “I want it.”
It didn’t make him weak. It made it right. But he was empty then, a chill rolling over his skin as Chanyeol urged him over, and he gasped as the heated skin of his back met the cool sheet.
“I want to be able to kiss you,” Chanyeol explained.
To look at more than just the back of his head as they were tied, perhaps.
He raised his head to meet Chanyeol’s lips, and raised his hips to be filled. And they moaned against each other as the knot found its place. It swelled, and Chanyeol gasped, meeting his eyes.
They both knew it wouldn’t leave him againuntil after they both had come.
He moaned as the knot slid deeper, thighs fighting for purchase on Chanyeol’s hips. But he was not the only one moaning, Chanyeol’s lower lip sagging, his head tilting as he almost seemed to prepare. He found Chanyeol’s nipples with his fingertips and squeezed. Chanyeol’s hips bucked but the knot was too tight.
He watched Chanyeol’s face, the dark concentration of it, the way his eyes widened and mouth parted as orgasm began to take him over. The knot swelled further, jutting up against his prostate as Chanyeol’s hips tried to drive it deeper.
“Oh fuck, Kris.”
His name said with so much desperation made him flush, and Chanyeol’s cock jerked inside him as Chanyeol moaned. None of his imaginings came close to Chanyeol’s face right then, beaded with sweat and exhilarated.
The pulse inside of him echoed the pulse of his cock, Chanyeol’s soft moans as he braced himself above Kris, breaths huffing out of him.
The kisses were sloppy and short, barely tastes of them as Chanyeol settled closer, heat trapped between them. He tried to lift his hips to rub his cock against Chanyeol’s belly, and Chanyeol moaned. For the barest moment his teeth fixed on Kris’s lip, kissing his chin, his neck, his collarbones. By the time Chanyeol’s tongue smoothed over a nipple, he was breathless, squirming against the knot inside him as his fingers dug into the pillow. If he’d grabbed his cock, he could have made himself come without too many strokes. Though as Chanyeol sucked his other nipple, he wondered if he could come without touch at all. He felt too flushed, the knowledge of the knot, the smell of Chanyeol’s sweat and arousal. Just thinking of it had his body tightening and making him moan.
Fingertips swirled in his damp belly button, and Chanyeol drew a deep breath as his hand slid under and cupped Kris’s cock. He didn’t grip, or stroke, just held - to feel Kris’s cock twitch and throb and wet his hand with the need to come.
“Chanyeol,” he gasped.
“You want to come on my knot?” Chanyeol asked, eyes bright.
On Chanyeol’s knot, around it. His mind too easily pictured stroking his cock and coming over Chanyeol’s, wetting the knot that would be in him. If his heat lasted long enough, maybe, or another time- For some alphas once was enough.
“I wish I was flexible enough to suck you again right now,” Chanyeol said, his thumb rubbing maddening slow circles on Kris’s cock. The way he was dripping onto his stomach, he wished so, too. Chanyeol’s mouth. Soft, wide lips to cradle him and take him deep. Kris’s breath hitched as Chanyeol reached for his hand, holding it to his mouth until Kris touched his bottom lip with two fingers.
And as Chanyeol stroked his cock, still knotted tight, Chanyeol opened his mouth for him.
Chanyeol’s tongue teased his fingertips, sliding along the length of both fingers and flickering between them. All he could do was watch and moan as Chanyeol’s lips sealed, enclosing his fingers in warmth even as Chanyeol’s eyelids closed, savoring. And as Kris moaned, Chanyeol began to suck, Chanyeol’s tongue fucking between his fingers, tugging on them, ferocity that had his cock throbbing in Chanyeol’s hand as both feelings seemed to intensify. Every time his body spasmed, he felt the knot pressing into him. Kris rocked his hips, deaf to everything but Chanyeol’s moans and his own, and the wet slide-
He came clutched around Chanyeol’s knot, Chanyeol’s stroking fingers urging the wet that fell against Kris’s chest and belly.
“Please, please,” he gasped. The orgasm still soared to Chanyeol’s stroking and it was desperation that had his eyes opening, only to realize Chanyeol was watching him. His fingers slipped from Chanyeol’s mouth, and pleasure flooded him, leaving him limp and wrung out. It had almost been too much, bringing tears to his eyes before it let him go with Chanyeol’s hand still cupped around him. He tried to smile, still throbbing frantically, and Chanyeol’s teeth bared.
“I think there’s another in you,” Chanyeol said.
And Kris wasn’t sure how there could be. But he pulsed at the thought, and then Chanyeol was kissing him. Panting, his hips shot up, the knot forcing up as Chanyeol moaned and Kris sucked on his tongue. Chanyeol hadn’t let the pleasure dull for any more than a moment before it swept over him again, head slamming back as he came in Chanyeol’s hand.
“How many times can you come?” Chanyeol marveled before kissing Kris’s collarbone.
He could smell Chanyeol’s hair and it made him want to nuzzle against it.
“I don’t know,” Kris said.
If Chanyeol kept stroking his chest like that, he couldn’t say. If Chanyeol had kept jerking him, he wasn’t sure if he could’ve helped coming a third time. Or a fourth.
“Was I really the first?” Chanyeol marveled, his thumb stroking Kris’s cheekbone.
Kris nodded. And Chanyeol opened his mouth like he wanted to ask more, but Kris stopped him. It was all too easy to cup the back of Chanyeol’s neck and pull him into a kiss. Already plumped they were wet and warm, and every time Chanyeol moaned into a kiss, Kris’s cock twitched. It was surprisingly easy to keep Chanyeol distracted, beneath the stroking, and the kissing. And when he sucked beneath Chanyeol’s jaw, Chanyeol gasped, chuckling low and rough.
“Will the knot ever go away if you keep me turned on?”
They both knew it would. Kris could tell as well that it had shrunk nearly by half. Every gentle pull as Chanyeol tested if the knot would come free only made Kris want to be fucked again. And that was not-
Not advisable. From the moment he’d started trying to keep Chanyeol from talking, he’d begun realizing how bad a decision he had made. In the safe hotel, he could’ve worked through his heat, not endangering any friendships. Chanyeol’s cock had swelled at the scent of his heat, but most unbonded alphas male or female would’ve been affected. It was biological, not personal. Chanyeol got to have a good time helping out the poor omega in need.
His hands were on the broadest parts of Chanyeol’s shoulders when Chanyeol’s knot slid free. It left him empty and wet, and more unfulfilled than sore.
Chanyeol was kneeling, his hair wild and chest still flushed, and his eyes had started at Kris’s spread thighs, all the way up to Kris’s mouth. And then Chanyeol looked back down again, licking his lips, hesitating. Like maybe he just wanted another little taste.
Chanyeol was looking at him. Just that knowledge sent a flush of arousal through him, and Chanyeol picked up on it immediately. It would’ve been so much more convenient if his heat had broken after one knotting.
“Your heat hasn’t broken,” Chanyeol observed, and Kris rolled to his side, his half hard cock bobbing as he stood.
“Not yet, but soon. I can take care of the rest. I won’t take up the rest of your day.”
He could hear the hesitation in Chanyeol’s voice, “Are you sure?”
There was a robe in the closet, and he belted himself into it securely, like it was some kind of metal armor.
“That was the worst of it.”
“I’d stay if you wanted,” Chanyeol said.
And it was the last time he offered. Kris washed his face, his neck, in the bathroom as Chanyeol dressed.
Since Chanyeol was an alpha, they had to wait for the beta to arrive to escort Chanyeol out. The most difficult part was just standing there, Chanyeol joking that he’d have to go back to the park to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind. The longer they waited, the longer he had to ignore the fact that he could almost taste Chanyeol’s arousal. He could have pinned Chanyeol against the wall. Chanyeol would’ve-
The knock finally sounded.
“Thanks,” Kris said, slapping Chanyeol’s arm.
Chanyeol’s mouth worked, as though he had something to say almost before the beta knocked.
But Chanyeol turned one last time, face tense.
“I didn’t take advantage…?”
Kris shook his head, and Chanyeol nearly deflated. No, Chanyeol hadn’t taken advantage of him.
“I was the one who went back for you,” Kris reminded him.
Chanyeol nodded, and opened the door then.
“I’ll see you later?”
Later. Right. The door was locked, and Kris tore the robe off, leaving it in a puddle just to get it away from too-sensitive skin. Had he waited, had he urged Chanyeol to stay, he could have sucked Chanyeol hard again. A second knotting would have broken his heat for certain.
When he muffled himself in the pillow over the next day and a half, his fingers were poor substitutes.
***
There was a certain amount of avoidance of being alone together that was easy to maintain. Chanyeol’s texts and silly email forwards didn’t change. When a large group of them got together to celebrate a birthday, Chanyeol didn’t single him out or treat him differently. Nothing about the situation screamed that Chanyeol had knotted him. Because there were so many people, there was little enough chance he’d be able to think with his cock, or have his heat triggered because Chanyeol was there.
When his next heat was imminent, he locked himself in the safe hotel and dealt with it on his own. If it had been unsatisfying, it was something he would learn to deal with again. He’d find even better ways to handle it.
But it was impossible to avoid Chanyeol alone forever. There were only so many weeks he could claim he was busy, so many alternate plans he could craft. It was more than a week before he would start preparing for his heat, more than a week and a half before it would begin. He figured it was safe. And, best of all, it was in a public place, a restaurant. All of the other people would keep both of them safe.
He watched the way Chanyeol’s tongue guided the straw, the way his lips closed around his spoon, the ease with which he leaned closer across the table, teeth bared as he laughed. The deep rumble of it, the way Chanyeol molded his words, talking effortlessly and laughing at himself.
Those were some of the things he liked about Chanyeol. Sure, sometimes Chanyeol could be thoughtless, and cranky, and even self-absorbed, but he wasn’t needlessly cruel or unkind. They all had those moments. As alphas went, he’d chosen a good one as his first. The thick, tight fit of his knot, the easy way he had reached Kris’s mouth, fitting to him in every way.
“I think I made a birdhouse in grade school,” Chanyeol said, bolting into a tangent because of a conversation about pigeons. “Like, who gave me a power tool? I used some kind of saw to cut out the hole, but it was not round.”
Chanyeol gestured with his hands all the while, making the shape of the birdhouse, and the size of the hole, and miming holding the tools, and it all looked a bit suggestive.
“I think I made a potholder for my mom,” Kris said, getting his mind out of that entirely. Better to think of the endless loops and mistakes he’d made under the tutelage of his teacher. It had been for Mother’s Day, and the whole class had gone home with poorly wrapped packages and potholders of dubious functionality. It had been the thought that counted.
And thinking about his teacher and his mother had been supposed to take his mind off of the way that Chanyeol’s hands curled around the glass. Strong hands, but gentle. Capable fingers, sturdy. Clean and tended, a little oversized. Perfect for long touches. The heat that infused his cock he ignored. He was used to his attraction to Chanyeol.
And for only a moment, he wondered if his face was going flushed because of the hot tea. Only a moment. Air rushed into his lungs as he crossed his legs and felt the tickle of wet, and felt the flush rush down his neck and chest.
Chanyeol’s teeth had fixed on his lower lip, staring at one of Kris’s shirt buttons. His head was tilted, as though in thought, but he was inhaling. He could smell Kris. And that meant others could, too.
“Are-“
A man stepping up to their table interrupted them.
“Don’t bring your omega out in public during heat,” he snarled at Chanyeol. “There are families here.”
Blood was pounding in his ears, his temple as Kris fumbled in his wallet, placing too much money for his meal and Chanyeol’s before he stood and beelined for the door.
“Kris!”
He’d only barely made it when he heard Chanyeol clattering after him.
“Kris!”
He stopped not twenty feet down the sidewalk, first from Chanyeol’s plea, and then from Chanyeol’s hand on his arm. He was breathing too hard, embarrassed, arousal cloying in him. But it was not too late then, and it hadn’t been too late the last time. With a few quick moves of his thumb, he typed out the address and sent directions to the taxi company.
“You didn’t smell like this when you got here,” Chanyeol said, standing too close.
“I wouldn’t have come if I’d known,” Kris bit out.
Chanyeol’s hand slid down to his, their fingers tangling. The flush then was unrelated to the heat. It was like want drew them together, like magnets that made it too hard to stay apart.
“Can I…?”
He didn’t even think as Chanyeol tilted closer, his arm curling up Chanyeol’s back to bring him in. It was so easy to kiss Chanyeol, his mouth right there in easy reach, so easy to tilt and press against. It wasn’t an invitation, but something he’d missed, Chanyeol’s hand cupping his neck, their lips sliding together. They’d had dirtier kisses, and they’d had sweeter ones. But his breath was short when he pulled away, Chanyeol’s fingers still clutching his, hand still warm on his neck.
“I need to get to the safe hotel.”
Chanyeol’s lips were still wet when he nodded, and Kris realized they were making a mini-spectacle on the street. Kissing Chanyeol had not stopped he advance of his heat in any way.
“I’ll… I’ll make sure you get there okay.”
Kris nearly laughed, fingers scraping along Chanyeol’s shoulder blade. “Did that work last time you were with me? I got myself to the hotel just fine last month.”
Though there had been no hurry, no rush of heat that made him dizzy that time. He and his toys had been ready, and it had not even begun to compare to the half heat that Chanyeol had spent with him. It had taken three days for his heat to break. Three days of nagging arousal when all he could think of were Chanyeol’s hands, and Chanyeol’s cock, and Chanyeol’s mouth.
And the way he had smiled when he knew he’d pleased Kris. And they couldn’t. They couldn’t, not again, where the heat swept them up and he ended up wondering how much of a commodity he was, even with Chanyeol on whom deception shined like a beacon. Once, his heat springing on him early in Chanyeol’s presence was one thing. Twice?
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, and prayed for the taxi’s swift arrival.
“We should talk,” Chanyeol said, mostly against his cheek, and Kris nodded, hating it but knowing why when Chanyeol pulled back. Kris nearly shivered at the twitch Chanyeol’s thumb took beneath his ear, a bolt of lust shooting through him. But Chanyeol’s hand withdrew entirely when he realized what he’d done, and Kris’s neck felt colder for it.
“I’ll call you after. We’ll…talk.”
Chanyeol breathed in, and Kris nearly stepped toward him when the taxi beeped.
“I’ll call you,” Kris said again, and wrapped his hands on the handle on the taxi seat to keep himself from reaching for the door again before the taxi pulled back into traffic.
***
Maybe it was amazing that he didn’t spend the entire two days of his heat keeping himself from thinking of Chanyeol When he did, he allowed it, and when he didn’t, he wasn’t burning with regret that Chanyeol wasn’t there. But of his last heats, it was light, and he was glad of that. Maybe that’d helped him keep his head together, but whatever it was, he meant to stay with what he’d determined.
The smile when Chanyeol answered his apartment door was bright, but there was apprehension there when it melted off, when he stepped back and tried to put out slippers until Kris waved him off. He stepped into the apartment, and he was instantly at ease there. It smelled like Chanyeol, even if it was a bit cluttered. It felt like a home should, and it did nothing to ease his anxiety.
“I know we wanted to talk,” Kris said, and it felt strange and awkward.
But Chanyeol did not wade in easily, even after he sat and clutched a pillow to his chest and stared up at Kris.
“I feel like I can still smell you.”
Kris stilled, taking stock of his own body and realized he felt nothing. “That’s impossible.”
Omegas couldn’t be scented outside of heat, and he’d given himself several days to be rid of any scent that could be picked up on, especially since he’d been planning on talking with Chanyeol.
“Is it? It was like I could taste you for days after,” Chanyeol said. “I even hoped you might-“
“Might what,” Kris prompted, half afraid of what Chanyeol would say.
Chanyeol’s nose crinkled, wincing. “That you’d call me when you felt your heat coming on.”
They hadn’t even finished a heat together, was Kris’s first thought. They’d never talked of an arrangement where Chanyeol would help Kris through his heats. They’d never even talked about the heat they’d had together. Chanyeol liking his taste and smell, that was another thing that was making him think his conclusion was correct. Phantom smells, phantom tastes, those he’d never heard of, but he thought those meant something, too.
“It’s okay that you don’t want it, though!” Chanyeol blurted. “I wondered when you asked me to leave, so I never brought it up.”
“I know of my heat days in advance,” Kris said, and Chanyeol nodded, because they’d had that conversation. “Both times I was with you, it was too early. When you helped me, it was early. No warning.”
Once was coincidence. Twice was something more and Chanyeol’s widening eyes told Kris he had grasped the significance. “You mean- How many other alphas trigger your heats?”
Yes. Chanyeol knew exactly what he spoke of, hands bunching tight in the pillow as he stared at Kris. It wasn’t just because Chanyeol was nearby, or that Kris was attracted to him, because that had been true for months. There was something deeper there, and he still wasn’t sure of it all.
“There aren’t any others,” Kris said. “I’ve dated alphas. None did that.”
Maybe his heat was triggered because he wanted Chanyeol to fuck him. Maybe it was something more elemental. An alpha who could trigger an omega’s heats was a good sign - a promise of compatibility in more than knotting.
“They have simulated toys with inflatable knots,” Kris said, and there was no hint of embarrassment even if his grin was wry. “Yours was better.”
“Then why…“ Chanyeol began, his voice trailing off. He eyes were wide, half smiling, half frowning. “Why didn’t you want me to stay?”
“Heats aren’t known for making alphas or omegas think clearly.”
Chanyeol blinked at him. “You thought you were convenient?”
“You’re my friend. Maybe it wasn’t selfless, but you were helping me. My heat was normal when I wasn’t around you. It had always been normal even when I was around you.”
“What does it mean, though? We’re compatible. We’re- I liked it,” Chanyeol said, words almost shy. “I thought you were a beta, that I’d never have a chance to even date you.”
“Then maybe we should date. Maybe my next heat won’t take us by surprise,” Kris said, and Chanyeol all but leaped to his feet.
“Okay! Jongdae is going to be horrible. He told me I should ask you out ages ago, but we were friends, and then your heat, and I didn’t want you to think I just wanted…that.”
The fact that Chanyeol hadn’t leered, hadn’t suggested, told him a great deal. The fact that they’d been friends first, that Chanyeol hadn’t been just any alpha off the street, told him even more.
“Will you stay to the end next time?” And that was the way Kris showed his trust, his want.
“I’d knot you during your heats and every day in between if that was what you wanted,” Chanyeol swore.
And Chanyeol’s cheeks were as flushed as his felt.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” Chanyeol asked. And there was none of the awkward, Chanyeol closing the distance so they could look eye to eye.
And Kris’s lips twitched.
“Go get dressed,” he said, and Chanyeol whooped and wheeled away.
***
Dinner had been nice, comfortable, enlightening. It wasn’t unlike dinners with Chanyeol his friend, but more because Chanyeol’s movements, his looks, were a bit provocative even when he didn’t mean to be. That was the best part, Kris though, was that Chanyeol had no idea what he did to Kris. And, he suspected maybe it was the same for Chanyeol.
But Chanyeol took his hand on the sidewalk, and they walked back toward Chanyeol’s building.
“That was great. So great. Really gr- Really awesome. Sorry,” Chanyeol said, laughing.
“Hey,” Kris said, and Chanyeol stopped.
Chanyeol still held his hand when Kris kissed him, wander of lips and warmth. He wanted to press against Chanyeol’s body and drink him in.
And Chanyeol pulled back his head, breath sharp on an inhale.
“Am I smelling things again?” he demanded.
There was a trickle of warmth down Kris’s spine, and his laugh was a bit off kilter.
“No. You’re not. Can I not kiss you without going into heat?”
“I’m okay with that,” Chanyeol said. And then more sheepishly, “Sorry?”
He called the taxi, breathing into Chanyeol’s neck as they did their best not to make a scene. The quicker they got back, the quicker they could take their time, explore. They knew where they both stood, and that was most important.
In the taxi that time, he made no attempts to disguise his scent, letting his legs stay open as he rocked side to side and rubbed Chanyeol’s belly with his hand. Chanyeol’s eyes threatened and promised both, so many things. With any luck it would be the press of his tongue and the width of his knot, and the heat of his body against Kris’s afterward. Maybe for as long as they could stand.
And Kris was ready.
***
Pairing: Chanyeol/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Genre: alpha/beta/omega dynamics
Warnings: sexual situations, knotting, rimming
Summary: As an omega, Kris schedules his life around his heats - to the point where some even think he's a beta. But there starts a pattern that even his normal precautions don't protect him from. (Original prompt here.)
***
On a warm day like they had chosen to eat outside, they were inevitable joined by a number of others taking advantage of the heat. Granted, Kris wasn’t so much of a picnicker that they took along a blanket or anything, but the park had benches and that was far good enough. It seems it suited Chanyeol just fine as well, from the noises of enjoyment he made as they demolished their chicken.
“This is the perfect way to spend an afternoon,” Chanyeol said with his mouth partly full of food. Good drinks, good food, good company. Getting together in groups was nice, but getting together just them was nice, too. There were reasons to that that he didn’t really care to think about, but they still existed. Chanyeol was his friend. A good friend, even, and someone he enjoyed being with. Chanyeol had a natural kind of exuberance, a wide smile, and a laugh that betrayed his amusement of things. He spoke and his voice was low, something that caught at the ears and either caused people to lean in, or away.
Kris had a hard time not leaning in.
Part of it, he supposed, but didn’t let himself dwell on, was the fact that Chanyeol was an alpha. If one were to form baseless opinions on stature or voice, Chanyeol might seem like he had been meant for his alpha status. Kris had height on Chanyeol, but he was no alpha. In fact, Kris knew a good number of alphas who were of any size, any temperament. Most people Kris met assumed he was a beta, and Kris felt like he might’ve preferred that option. Betas didn’t have to worry about mixed scent signals, heats, knotting. They got to move about their lives unaware of the complicated dance taking place for the other two-thirds of the population. It was easy to tell who the alphas were, because omegas and other alphas could smell them. It wasn’t pheromones, not exactly, just a unique scent that declared themselves as alphas and secure.
Biology had been kind to omegas, though. They weren’t lesser, but different. Unless their heat was beginning, they were scent-less, which protected them from trailing alphas interested in them. And that was why most people assumed Kris was a beta. He never let them know otherwise.
“You’re not afraid when I’m driving, are you?” Chanyeol asked. “I think Baekhyun is just trying to say that to get to me, because I don’t feel unsafe. I know the rules! I haven’t hit anything yet.”
Kris laughed, swirling the last of his juice in the container. “I’ve only driven with you twice, but I didn’t feel unsafe.”
“See!” Chanyeol said, and flopped back.
“Maybe he’s just trying to show you who the alpha is.”
“You think he wants to drive? Oh. Not in my car,” Chanyeol muttered, and Kris couldn’t help laughing again as Chanyeol squirmed his discontent.
It started as a flush on his cheeks, a warmth that had Kris fanning himself with a museum brochure. They were half-in, half-out of the sun and even though there was a breeze it seemed hotter on him than it had. It was an interesting museum, right around the corner. He thought they should visit it, after they ate. Chanyeol was looking at the brochure, too, the one Kris still held, and Kris nearly opened his mouth to ask about it when he watched Chanyeol’s eyes drop.
And Kris felt the first, telltale throb.
He should’ve run, but it was responsibility that had him first texting the address he was at so he could get a beta-operated taxi, and gathering trash as Chanyeol shifted.
“Did I know you were an omega?” Chanyeol asked, his voice absent, almost detached and Kris nearly threw something at him because that wasn’t the time to be discussing his imminent heat.
“Help me get this stuff together. I need to go.”
“Right,” Chanyeol said, snapping out of it and Kris nearly hissed when their hands brushed, trying to reach for the same wrapper at once.
When Chanyeol stood, Kris wasn’t sure why, until he saw a man, another alpha, twenty feet away and scenting. Chanyeol didn’t make a sound, only stared, and the man kept walking by.
It was Kris who couldn’t meet Chanyeol’s eyes after that.
The trash was sorted and stuffed into the cans and Kris held very still, inhaling deep for a long moment as he realized Chanyeol was staring at his neck, his mouth.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Kris had seen Chanyeol around omegas in heat. The way his head went up, inhaling and looking around as thought hungry for something he didn’t know how to find. Picturing that didn’t help the flood of reactions in him.
For an alpha without a bond, an omega was a powerful lure.
It wasn’t Chanyeol that he was afraid of, when he took his precautions. Some omegas, their heats were irregular, some even starting when they were near someone they were sexually attracted to. Kris had his down to with a day before or after that he knew his would start. It made planning his life easier. He had a bag packed, and he would leave his apartment two days early, holing up in a secure hotel used for those kinds of things. He didn’t want alphas in his building or nearby to know there was an available omega there. And behind the doors with their many locks, he felt safe. Food was delivered through a small locking opening, almost like he was in a prison cell. But the staff, mostly betas or already claimed omegas, could at least get things to him that he needed.
Heats weren’t optional. There was no magic pill that would make it stop, or make it shorter. He’d heard of omegas that went fuck-crazy during their heats, unable to bear it for days of endless cycles of need. Some, barely had an uptick in libido at all. Kris was somewhere in between. He wanted, but not so much he wanted to find the nearest available alpha and beg to be knotted.
“You’re an omega,” Chanyeol said, coming up near him - a few feet away - as the taxi pulled up.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I-“ Kris wrenched open the door of the taxi and climbed in.
The address of the omega-safe hotel tumbled out of him, and he turned to Chanyeol who was hovering beside the taxi as though another alpha was going to spring in if he let the door go.
“I’ll go with you,” Chanyeol said, sliding in beside him and shutting the taxi door. “Even if I can’t- I’ll get you there safe.”
It was only a few miles. It wouldn’t be that bad. It couldn’t be that bad.
Kris nodded at the taxi driver, and they drove.
Kris’s head fell back against the taxi seat, and he swallowed the whimper that threatened when he relaxed his legs and let them fall open. It was a bad decision, he knew it, when Chanyeol gasped, hand going white on the door handle. He couldn’t even apologize, not in the taxi like that. Kris wasn’t sure what all Chanyeol could smell - his arousal or the scent of his heat, maybe both. Pheromones, the adjusting of his body to be taken if that was what he wanted.
The barest, glancing thought made his cock throb, and Chanyeol’s breath hitched. Yes. He could smell that. But he could smell Chanyeol too, like warm blankets and sun-drenched rainy afternoons and the bitter rasp of tea.
“Have you ever-“ Chanyeol asked.
Kris shook his head. “No.”
“Oh.” And Chanyeol’s voice wavered, like he regretted everything.
They had to get there soon. His hands were clenched beside his hips to keep himself from rubbing his thighs or shifting to release any more scent. Even without moving, it felt like the taxi interior had raised ten degrees, a trickle of sweat running down his chest.
And when they turned the corner nearest the hotel, his prayers were finally answered. He had the money ready, shoving it at the driver and almost hissing until Chanyeol climbed out first.
“Sorry about this,” Kris said, and walked briskly with Chanyeol keeping pace. “We’ll… I’ll call you next week, or-“
“Yeah, okay,” Chanyeol said, sounding as out of breath as Kris felt.
And with Chanyeol there, heat or no, he wanted to lean in. He nearly flinched when he met Chanyeol’s eyes, interest, maybe even hunger there that had his heart skipping.
The doorman let Kris pass, because he had no more words, walking on knees that felt infirm all the way to the check-in desk.
“A room, quick,” Kris said, and the woman behind the desk nodded.
“Of course, sir.”
He waited as she prated a form, thought of Chanyeol’s laugh, the way his hand had curled around Kris’s arm before they’d sat down to eat. He touched so casually, and it had almost always been something that Kris had craved. If he had to choose one alpha that he would want-
“Do you have rooms for- For alphas and..?” Kris asked, his breath catching him short even as embarrassment ate at him.
“In the building directly behind us,” the woman told him. “No alphas are allowed in here, but that-“
Kris didn’t wait for her explanation, turning and moving out the secured doors. If Chanyeol was still there, then maybe. Maybe. And maybe it was luck, or something worse than that, because Chanyeol hadn’t gone far, maybe twenty feet, leaning against the building and taking slow, deep breaths. He could have gone back inside and changed his mind, waited and talked with Chanyeol later without the maze of hormones racing through him, and he didn’t want to.
“Do you want me?” Kris asked when he got close enough.
“What?” Chanyeol asked, not even looking at him as though that would protect him.
“My heat wasn’t due for days. I just- Do you want me?”
Chanyeol made a sound that was nearly a moan, his hand pressed hard against the brick.
“If you want me, come with me,” Kris told him. “Or I need to go in before another alpha decides-“
“Let’s go,” Chanyeol rasped, and took Kris’s offered hand.
The building behind the omega haven had less security, but it still had some. There would be no lone alphas entering to fight for omega rights, and Kris kept Chanyeol beside him as he paid, feeling too flushed and warm under the lights. The beta at the counter handed him a small bag.
“Just call if you need more,” he said.
Kris peeked in, during the elevator ride, and realized it was packets of lube in case his body could not get wet enough. As wet as he felt he was getting, he didn’t think that would be an issue. Though past reference was limited to his own fingers and a variety of toys, not to…
His eyes raced down Chanyeol’s body, fixing for only a moment at the closure of Chanyeol’s pants before darting to take in his clenched jaw and drawn eyebrows. He looked like a man about to go to war, and Kris’s chest went tight. Chanyeol wasn’t touching him. He’d seen alphas around omegas in heat. Once he’d dropped Chanyeol’s hand to check in, Chanyeol hadn’t touched him.
When the elevator chimed, Kris held the door open and turned before Chanyeol could get out.
“Are you sure?”
Chanyeol’s eye widened in surprise, and Kris nearly leaned into the touch as Chanyeol cupped his neck with his palm.
“Yes. If you are,” Chanyeol said, close enough that Kris could nearly feel his words.
He forgot all the other times, the heats he hadn’t been desperate for an alpha to stay with him. That time he was. That was the one time it counted.
***
When Kris threw himself into the shower, it was ritual, and not one they could share. He hadn’t even bothered to strip first, pulling off wet clothes and rinsing off all scents of the outside, washing clean. When they were through, he would smell of himself, and of Chanyeol, and nothing else. In the gap under the door, he could see shadows move as he dried himself, Chanyeol pacing. There would be no strip show that day, not even for him. Chanyeol’s shirt and pants and socks were against one wall, one hand a restless movement on his hip where his underwear was doing its best to contain his hard cock. That would get him through his heat. His breath sighed out of him as Chanyeol looked him up and down.
For some, it was impersonal, a function that needed to be dealt with. He’d heard of omegas that had a different alpha every heat, and omegas that refused to take the knot until they had the promise of a bond. He’d dated half a dozen alphas and fantasized about taking some of their knots, but the bone-deep desire hadn’t been there. Maybe because he’d never been around them during his heat, or maybe because they’d never been compatible.
Chanyeol’s skin felt almost cool when he pressed up against him, skin against skin and the contrast of cloth, and the spread of Chanyeol’s hands against his hips. He could smell the deeper edge of want, traced along Chanyeol’s skin, and he hummed as Chanyeol’s hand stroked up his back. He was desperate, but not that desperate. Spur of the moment decision, maybe. Irrational, no. So he drank in Chanyeol’s warmth, his scent, his touch, and did what he had fantasized doing for some months.
“Oh,” Chanyeol breathed, as Kris took to his knees. If he was going to experience Chanyeol as he had in his fantasies, he wanted all of him.
Chanyeol’s underwear dropped and Kris took his cock in his hand. Warm and thick and longer than the width of his four fingers, it felt solid, substantial. At its base, his fingertips explored the thickening, what would be the knot when it was time. His tongue against the head of Chanyeol’s cock caused a moan, and he nearly moaned himself. Bitter against his tongue and yet still appealing. It would be in him. Soon. The soft moans Chanyeol gave as Kris wrapped his lips around him only made the want grow. Chanyeol’s hand cupping the back of his neck, the slide of Chanyeol’s cock against his tongue, it made him ache. It usually took hours to get to that point, past the first stages of heat where the arousal was a gentle buzz that he could nearly ignore.
He wanted Chanyeol to come in his mouth. He wanted to suck until Chanyeol could not hold back, swallowing him straight to the knot. He needed Chanyeol’s moans, needed him to moan so loud he couldn’t hear his own moans over Chanyeol’s. But Kris moaned as he pulled away, Chanyeol’s cock wet from his mouth.
Kris needed Chanyeol inside him more.
He was panting as Chanyeol helped him up, walked with him, until Chanyeol slid onto the edge of the bed beside him. His skin was hot, and Chanyeol felt hotter than that, their thighs together, Chanyeol’s hand on his belly.
“Oh,” he moaned at the wet kisses Chanyeol pressed against his neck. Though he rubbed Chanyeol’s thigh, it wasn’t enough. But he had little enough time to think that as Chanyeol gripped his cock and began to stroke. Wet against his neck, insistent fingers against his cock nearly had him lifting off the bed.
Maybe it was an alpha’s touch. Maybe he would have reacted to anyone-
But the heat had come on so suddenly. And Kris hadn’t been with just anyone. He wondered if Chanyeol knew, or if Chanyeol even thought to wonder about the heat. He wasn’t hard for anyone else. Just-
“How quick do you get hard in a heat?” Chanyeol asked, jacking him quick enough that it was making it hard to think.
He groaned, rolling his head against Chanyeol’s. “Really quick.”
Chanyeol grinned and a tingle of arousal shot through him as he rested back and moved fully onto the bed under Chanyeol’s pressing hand.
It was so easy to hear how wet he was when he spread his legs. His cock curved up against his belly, balls tight and swollen, and he was wet and so sensitive that even the touch of Chanyeol’s fingertip had his head thrashing. He felt like he would come if Chanyeol just put a finger in him, just touched him a little more.
“You smell so good,” Chanyeol said, his nose trailing down Kris’s inner thigh. Not just the scent of his heat but the scent of his body as Chanyeol rocked up Kris’s hips to nuzzle against his balls.
When Chanyeol’s tongue pressed into him, he made an unconscious sound, fingers scraping along the sheets. There had been no resistance, just wet on wet, open for anything Chanyeol wanted. To press Chanyeol’s tongue, his fingers, his cock. Anything. As long as he could come. He was too on edge to focus on anything but want.
Kris wondered how he tasted - he knew how he tasted to himself, but to Chanyeol. The little sounds of enjoyment Chanyeol made as he licked and pressed his tongue deep made Kris think that he liked it. Kris’s body grew more and more tense with every wet smack of Chanyeol’s lips and drag of his tongue. It only made him wetter, unsure how much more he could take with his cock making sticky trails on his stomach.
“Please,” he begged.
And Chanyeol did not miss at all, his wet lips mouthing at Kris’s balls as his fingers first teased, and then slid into him. More solid than Chanyeol’s tongue, Kris’s breath caught at the sensation, squeezing tight around them just to feel them more.
“Better?” Chanyeol asked.
All he could do was make a sound. And another when Chanyeol smiled, his tongue snaking and swirling up the length of Kris’s cock. It throbbed and ached, begging how he could not as Chanyeol waited, and breathed against him.
Kris tried to lift his hips, tried to encourage as best he could as Chanyeol sucked gently but made no move to wrap his mouth around Kris’s cock. The gentle fucking of Chanyeol’s fingers was little better than his tongue had been. It kept him on edge and no more as Chanyeol licked against his stomach, licked everywhere but where Kris wanted.
But Chanyeol’s head rose, and he lifted Kris’s cock with two fingers.
“Chanyeol,” he said, the name soft and guttural.
“Kris.”
It was a reply. And so was the way that Chanyeol engulfed his cock, his warm, wet mouth sliding down it, and groaning as Kris lifted his hips. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t. Chanyeol had been tormenting him whether he knew it or not, the prickle of pleasure right near orgasm nearly spearing through him with every touch Chanyeol made.
And he moaned, limp on the bed, his eyes nearly crossed as he reached for Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol was no longer teasing.
Chanyeol’s fingers plunging into him. The obscene wet sucking of his mouth. He was getting wetter, getting harder, fingers tangled in Chanyeol’s hair.
Until Chanyeol nearly stopped, sucking gentling, tongue soft, fingertips against his prostate and hand cradling his balls.
But it was the friction of Chanyeol’s tongue that drew him up, the pull of his mouth. The pleasure rose, pushing all rational thought out as Chanyeol’s fingers began to slide again.
“Chan-“ He gasped, hung on the precipice of orgasm, cock pulsing, and body taut. “Oh!”
Chanyeol’s lips sealed around him and sucked hard, fingers slamming into him as Kris arched and shot into Chanyeol’s mouth. His body was on fire, cock white-hot as he moaned and came. He couldn’t hear himself over the thundering of his heart and his gasps, back arching as Chanyeol’s mouth made him spasm again, spilling more semen against Chanyeol’s tongue.
When Chanyeol lifting his head, Kris was still half hard - he’d never be less until his heat broke. But Chanyeol’s lips were red and wet, and he was panting.
And though Kris had just come in his mouth, Chanyeol looked at him like he was hungry.
And though Kris had had just come, when he saw Chanyeol’s cock hard and ready, he understood.
Chanyeol’s tongue distracted him, licking over the lips he’d just been sucking his cock with. A hand, wide and warm pressed to the center of Kris’s chest, and Chanyeol met his eyes.
“You taste good,” Chanyeol said, and Kris inhaled. “Do- I didn’t want to stop eating you out. Fuck.”
His sentiments exactly. It wasn’t like he could offer his ass any time Chanyeol was bored, though right then he could’ve been urged to offer just that.
But offered in a different way, putting aside Chanyeol’s arm and half rolling until he could push himself up. It was traditional but no less hot when he went to his hands and knees. There were a lot of tasteful names for it over the years, like taking the knot and mating. He just remembered at 17, his grandfather laughing in another room that one day an alpha would take him in hand and Kris would present himself for a thorough knotting. He’d jerked off for months with that word echoing in his head, a word none of his books implied. A guy would stick his dick in him and fill him up, and he’d come until he couldn’t come any more.
Half a dozen years later, it was finally happening.
He moaned at the headboard as Chanyeol’s breath warmed him, licking at the wet before sliding his tongue into Kris again. For a moment he almost thought that Chanyeol wouldn’t stop, right when he finally thought he was getting what he needed.
“Fuck,” Chanyeol said again, both hands roaming Kris’s hips as he went back for one more taste. The bed dipped between Kris’s legs, and his stomach tightened. “I feel like I’m going to explode. I’ve never- Kris. Ready?”
“Slow,” Kris said, all he could get out. Acceptance, urging, instruction.
With his knees solid, he planted his elbows, and gasped audibly as Chanyeol’s cock rubbed against him. It grew slicker from his own body, once nearly pressing in before backing away.
Every press of Chanyeol’s lips against his back, every touch of Chanyeol’s hands and cock, had his own cock throbbing. But it was nothing to how empty he felt, the tease only making it worse. Without Chanyeol’s fingers, without even a touch to his neglected cock, he felt flushed, in agony. If he’d been alone, he would have fucked himself with his fingers or a toy until he came, and then he would have done it again.
“Are you trying to torture me,” Kris groaned.
The sound Chanyeol made had his head spinning. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t come as soon as I push into you.”
Chanyeol’s voice was so hoarse, so rough, so unlike what Kris knew.
“If it’s a minute or an hour, I need-“ Kris thought twice of finishing that sentence. On one hand it sounded wildly sentimental, as though no other alpha could have satisfied. On another, it came too close to-
But Chanyeol shifted and braced himself. And they both moaned when he finally began to press himself in.
“You’re taking me right in,” Chanyeol marveled.
“You’ve teased me long enough.”
But he cried out when Chanyeol could press no further, the ridge where the knot would be sliding into him. It had grown thicker since Kris’s mouth had touched it.
“I’d jerk off- I wondered what you would sound like if I got you like this,” Chanyeol said, breathing in such hard pants. “I didn’t even know if I’d get to.”
Kris’s cock was dripping onto the sheets, his eyes slamming closed at Chanyeol’s admission. Maybe, just maybe, Chanyeol had wanted him for a while.
“Oh.”
“Did you think of me?” Chanyeol asked, and then allowed, “You’ll think of me now.”
Kris nearly barked out a laugh and remembered the times he’d writhed on the bed and shouted Chanyeol’s name at the ceiling.
Yes, as the knot dragged into him again, he knew he would think of Chanyeol again.
“Is this what you wanted?” Kris asked. “Me on my knees. Putting your knot where no one’s has ever been.”
Chanyeol moaned against his back, and Kris gasped. The endless rolling of Chanyeol’s hips. Each full press, each time he braced himself. He’d been fucked before, a couple of curious betas, and it had been fun but it had never been in a heat. They had never gripped his hips as Chanyeol was, forceful, but not slashing at him, not ripping the knot away. The more it grew, the better it felt, the soft grunts from Chanyeol when Kris squeezed around it.
The moan didn’t even sound like himself as the growing knot pulled from him. It had stung that time. It would not easily fit or release much longer, and Chanyeol knew.
“I can keep it out of you,” Chanyeol gasped.
“Please.” The thought of being empty made his body shudder. “I want it.”
It didn’t make him weak. It made it right. But he was empty then, a chill rolling over his skin as Chanyeol urged him over, and he gasped as the heated skin of his back met the cool sheet.
“I want to be able to kiss you,” Chanyeol explained.
To look at more than just the back of his head as they were tied, perhaps.
He raised his head to meet Chanyeol’s lips, and raised his hips to be filled. And they moaned against each other as the knot found its place. It swelled, and Chanyeol gasped, meeting his eyes.
They both knew it wouldn’t leave him againuntil after they both had come.
He moaned as the knot slid deeper, thighs fighting for purchase on Chanyeol’s hips. But he was not the only one moaning, Chanyeol’s lower lip sagging, his head tilting as he almost seemed to prepare. He found Chanyeol’s nipples with his fingertips and squeezed. Chanyeol’s hips bucked but the knot was too tight.
He watched Chanyeol’s face, the dark concentration of it, the way his eyes widened and mouth parted as orgasm began to take him over. The knot swelled further, jutting up against his prostate as Chanyeol’s hips tried to drive it deeper.
“Oh fuck, Kris.”
His name said with so much desperation made him flush, and Chanyeol’s cock jerked inside him as Chanyeol moaned. None of his imaginings came close to Chanyeol’s face right then, beaded with sweat and exhilarated.
The pulse inside of him echoed the pulse of his cock, Chanyeol’s soft moans as he braced himself above Kris, breaths huffing out of him.
The kisses were sloppy and short, barely tastes of them as Chanyeol settled closer, heat trapped between them. He tried to lift his hips to rub his cock against Chanyeol’s belly, and Chanyeol moaned. For the barest moment his teeth fixed on Kris’s lip, kissing his chin, his neck, his collarbones. By the time Chanyeol’s tongue smoothed over a nipple, he was breathless, squirming against the knot inside him as his fingers dug into the pillow. If he’d grabbed his cock, he could have made himself come without too many strokes. Though as Chanyeol sucked his other nipple, he wondered if he could come without touch at all. He felt too flushed, the knowledge of the knot, the smell of Chanyeol’s sweat and arousal. Just thinking of it had his body tightening and making him moan.
Fingertips swirled in his damp belly button, and Chanyeol drew a deep breath as his hand slid under and cupped Kris’s cock. He didn’t grip, or stroke, just held - to feel Kris’s cock twitch and throb and wet his hand with the need to come.
“Chanyeol,” he gasped.
“You want to come on my knot?” Chanyeol asked, eyes bright.
On Chanyeol’s knot, around it. His mind too easily pictured stroking his cock and coming over Chanyeol’s, wetting the knot that would be in him. If his heat lasted long enough, maybe, or another time- For some alphas once was enough.
“I wish I was flexible enough to suck you again right now,” Chanyeol said, his thumb rubbing maddening slow circles on Kris’s cock. The way he was dripping onto his stomach, he wished so, too. Chanyeol’s mouth. Soft, wide lips to cradle him and take him deep. Kris’s breath hitched as Chanyeol reached for his hand, holding it to his mouth until Kris touched his bottom lip with two fingers.
And as Chanyeol stroked his cock, still knotted tight, Chanyeol opened his mouth for him.
Chanyeol’s tongue teased his fingertips, sliding along the length of both fingers and flickering between them. All he could do was watch and moan as Chanyeol’s lips sealed, enclosing his fingers in warmth even as Chanyeol’s eyelids closed, savoring. And as Kris moaned, Chanyeol began to suck, Chanyeol’s tongue fucking between his fingers, tugging on them, ferocity that had his cock throbbing in Chanyeol’s hand as both feelings seemed to intensify. Every time his body spasmed, he felt the knot pressing into him. Kris rocked his hips, deaf to everything but Chanyeol’s moans and his own, and the wet slide-
He came clutched around Chanyeol’s knot, Chanyeol’s stroking fingers urging the wet that fell against Kris’s chest and belly.
“Please, please,” he gasped. The orgasm still soared to Chanyeol’s stroking and it was desperation that had his eyes opening, only to realize Chanyeol was watching him. His fingers slipped from Chanyeol’s mouth, and pleasure flooded him, leaving him limp and wrung out. It had almost been too much, bringing tears to his eyes before it let him go with Chanyeol’s hand still cupped around him. He tried to smile, still throbbing frantically, and Chanyeol’s teeth bared.
“I think there’s another in you,” Chanyeol said.
And Kris wasn’t sure how there could be. But he pulsed at the thought, and then Chanyeol was kissing him. Panting, his hips shot up, the knot forcing up as Chanyeol moaned and Kris sucked on his tongue. Chanyeol hadn’t let the pleasure dull for any more than a moment before it swept over him again, head slamming back as he came in Chanyeol’s hand.
“How many times can you come?” Chanyeol marveled before kissing Kris’s collarbone.
He could smell Chanyeol’s hair and it made him want to nuzzle against it.
“I don’t know,” Kris said.
If Chanyeol kept stroking his chest like that, he couldn’t say. If Chanyeol had kept jerking him, he wasn’t sure if he could’ve helped coming a third time. Or a fourth.
“Was I really the first?” Chanyeol marveled, his thumb stroking Kris’s cheekbone.
Kris nodded. And Chanyeol opened his mouth like he wanted to ask more, but Kris stopped him. It was all too easy to cup the back of Chanyeol’s neck and pull him into a kiss. Already plumped they were wet and warm, and every time Chanyeol moaned into a kiss, Kris’s cock twitched. It was surprisingly easy to keep Chanyeol distracted, beneath the stroking, and the kissing. And when he sucked beneath Chanyeol’s jaw, Chanyeol gasped, chuckling low and rough.
“Will the knot ever go away if you keep me turned on?”
They both knew it would. Kris could tell as well that it had shrunk nearly by half. Every gentle pull as Chanyeol tested if the knot would come free only made Kris want to be fucked again. And that was not-
Not advisable. From the moment he’d started trying to keep Chanyeol from talking, he’d begun realizing how bad a decision he had made. In the safe hotel, he could’ve worked through his heat, not endangering any friendships. Chanyeol’s cock had swelled at the scent of his heat, but most unbonded alphas male or female would’ve been affected. It was biological, not personal. Chanyeol got to have a good time helping out the poor omega in need.
His hands were on the broadest parts of Chanyeol’s shoulders when Chanyeol’s knot slid free. It left him empty and wet, and more unfulfilled than sore.
Chanyeol was kneeling, his hair wild and chest still flushed, and his eyes had started at Kris’s spread thighs, all the way up to Kris’s mouth. And then Chanyeol looked back down again, licking his lips, hesitating. Like maybe he just wanted another little taste.
Chanyeol was looking at him. Just that knowledge sent a flush of arousal through him, and Chanyeol picked up on it immediately. It would’ve been so much more convenient if his heat had broken after one knotting.
“Your heat hasn’t broken,” Chanyeol observed, and Kris rolled to his side, his half hard cock bobbing as he stood.
“Not yet, but soon. I can take care of the rest. I won’t take up the rest of your day.”
He could hear the hesitation in Chanyeol’s voice, “Are you sure?”
There was a robe in the closet, and he belted himself into it securely, like it was some kind of metal armor.
“That was the worst of it.”
“I’d stay if you wanted,” Chanyeol said.
And it was the last time he offered. Kris washed his face, his neck, in the bathroom as Chanyeol dressed.
Since Chanyeol was an alpha, they had to wait for the beta to arrive to escort Chanyeol out. The most difficult part was just standing there, Chanyeol joking that he’d have to go back to the park to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind. The longer they waited, the longer he had to ignore the fact that he could almost taste Chanyeol’s arousal. He could have pinned Chanyeol against the wall. Chanyeol would’ve-
The knock finally sounded.
“Thanks,” Kris said, slapping Chanyeol’s arm.
Chanyeol’s mouth worked, as though he had something to say almost before the beta knocked.
But Chanyeol turned one last time, face tense.
“I didn’t take advantage…?”
Kris shook his head, and Chanyeol nearly deflated. No, Chanyeol hadn’t taken advantage of him.
“I was the one who went back for you,” Kris reminded him.
Chanyeol nodded, and opened the door then.
“I’ll see you later?”
Later. Right. The door was locked, and Kris tore the robe off, leaving it in a puddle just to get it away from too-sensitive skin. Had he waited, had he urged Chanyeol to stay, he could have sucked Chanyeol hard again. A second knotting would have broken his heat for certain.
When he muffled himself in the pillow over the next day and a half, his fingers were poor substitutes.
***
There was a certain amount of avoidance of being alone together that was easy to maintain. Chanyeol’s texts and silly email forwards didn’t change. When a large group of them got together to celebrate a birthday, Chanyeol didn’t single him out or treat him differently. Nothing about the situation screamed that Chanyeol had knotted him. Because there were so many people, there was little enough chance he’d be able to think with his cock, or have his heat triggered because Chanyeol was there.
When his next heat was imminent, he locked himself in the safe hotel and dealt with it on his own. If it had been unsatisfying, it was something he would learn to deal with again. He’d find even better ways to handle it.
But it was impossible to avoid Chanyeol alone forever. There were only so many weeks he could claim he was busy, so many alternate plans he could craft. It was more than a week before he would start preparing for his heat, more than a week and a half before it would begin. He figured it was safe. And, best of all, it was in a public place, a restaurant. All of the other people would keep both of them safe.
He watched the way Chanyeol’s tongue guided the straw, the way his lips closed around his spoon, the ease with which he leaned closer across the table, teeth bared as he laughed. The deep rumble of it, the way Chanyeol molded his words, talking effortlessly and laughing at himself.
Those were some of the things he liked about Chanyeol. Sure, sometimes Chanyeol could be thoughtless, and cranky, and even self-absorbed, but he wasn’t needlessly cruel or unkind. They all had those moments. As alphas went, he’d chosen a good one as his first. The thick, tight fit of his knot, the easy way he had reached Kris’s mouth, fitting to him in every way.
“I think I made a birdhouse in grade school,” Chanyeol said, bolting into a tangent because of a conversation about pigeons. “Like, who gave me a power tool? I used some kind of saw to cut out the hole, but it was not round.”
Chanyeol gestured with his hands all the while, making the shape of the birdhouse, and the size of the hole, and miming holding the tools, and it all looked a bit suggestive.
“I think I made a potholder for my mom,” Kris said, getting his mind out of that entirely. Better to think of the endless loops and mistakes he’d made under the tutelage of his teacher. It had been for Mother’s Day, and the whole class had gone home with poorly wrapped packages and potholders of dubious functionality. It had been the thought that counted.
And thinking about his teacher and his mother had been supposed to take his mind off of the way that Chanyeol’s hands curled around the glass. Strong hands, but gentle. Capable fingers, sturdy. Clean and tended, a little oversized. Perfect for long touches. The heat that infused his cock he ignored. He was used to his attraction to Chanyeol.
And for only a moment, he wondered if his face was going flushed because of the hot tea. Only a moment. Air rushed into his lungs as he crossed his legs and felt the tickle of wet, and felt the flush rush down his neck and chest.
Chanyeol’s teeth had fixed on his lower lip, staring at one of Kris’s shirt buttons. His head was tilted, as though in thought, but he was inhaling. He could smell Kris. And that meant others could, too.
“Are-“
A man stepping up to their table interrupted them.
“Don’t bring your omega out in public during heat,” he snarled at Chanyeol. “There are families here.”
Blood was pounding in his ears, his temple as Kris fumbled in his wallet, placing too much money for his meal and Chanyeol’s before he stood and beelined for the door.
“Kris!”
He’d only barely made it when he heard Chanyeol clattering after him.
“Kris!”
He stopped not twenty feet down the sidewalk, first from Chanyeol’s plea, and then from Chanyeol’s hand on his arm. He was breathing too hard, embarrassed, arousal cloying in him. But it was not too late then, and it hadn’t been too late the last time. With a few quick moves of his thumb, he typed out the address and sent directions to the taxi company.
“You didn’t smell like this when you got here,” Chanyeol said, standing too close.
“I wouldn’t have come if I’d known,” Kris bit out.
Chanyeol’s hand slid down to his, their fingers tangling. The flush then was unrelated to the heat. It was like want drew them together, like magnets that made it too hard to stay apart.
“Can I…?”
He didn’t even think as Chanyeol tilted closer, his arm curling up Chanyeol’s back to bring him in. It was so easy to kiss Chanyeol, his mouth right there in easy reach, so easy to tilt and press against. It wasn’t an invitation, but something he’d missed, Chanyeol’s hand cupping his neck, their lips sliding together. They’d had dirtier kisses, and they’d had sweeter ones. But his breath was short when he pulled away, Chanyeol’s fingers still clutching his, hand still warm on his neck.
“I need to get to the safe hotel.”
Chanyeol’s lips were still wet when he nodded, and Kris realized they were making a mini-spectacle on the street. Kissing Chanyeol had not stopped he advance of his heat in any way.
“I’ll… I’ll make sure you get there okay.”
Kris nearly laughed, fingers scraping along Chanyeol’s shoulder blade. “Did that work last time you were with me? I got myself to the hotel just fine last month.”
Though there had been no hurry, no rush of heat that made him dizzy that time. He and his toys had been ready, and it had not even begun to compare to the half heat that Chanyeol had spent with him. It had taken three days for his heat to break. Three days of nagging arousal when all he could think of were Chanyeol’s hands, and Chanyeol’s cock, and Chanyeol’s mouth.
And the way he had smiled when he knew he’d pleased Kris. And they couldn’t. They couldn’t, not again, where the heat swept them up and he ended up wondering how much of a commodity he was, even with Chanyeol on whom deception shined like a beacon. Once, his heat springing on him early in Chanyeol’s presence was one thing. Twice?
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said, and prayed for the taxi’s swift arrival.
“We should talk,” Chanyeol said, mostly against his cheek, and Kris nodded, hating it but knowing why when Chanyeol pulled back. Kris nearly shivered at the twitch Chanyeol’s thumb took beneath his ear, a bolt of lust shooting through him. But Chanyeol’s hand withdrew entirely when he realized what he’d done, and Kris’s neck felt colder for it.
“I’ll call you after. We’ll…talk.”
Chanyeol breathed in, and Kris nearly stepped toward him when the taxi beeped.
“I’ll call you,” Kris said again, and wrapped his hands on the handle on the taxi seat to keep himself from reaching for the door again before the taxi pulled back into traffic.
***
Maybe it was amazing that he didn’t spend the entire two days of his heat keeping himself from thinking of Chanyeol When he did, he allowed it, and when he didn’t, he wasn’t burning with regret that Chanyeol wasn’t there. But of his last heats, it was light, and he was glad of that. Maybe that’d helped him keep his head together, but whatever it was, he meant to stay with what he’d determined.
The smile when Chanyeol answered his apartment door was bright, but there was apprehension there when it melted off, when he stepped back and tried to put out slippers until Kris waved him off. He stepped into the apartment, and he was instantly at ease there. It smelled like Chanyeol, even if it was a bit cluttered. It felt like a home should, and it did nothing to ease his anxiety.
“I know we wanted to talk,” Kris said, and it felt strange and awkward.
But Chanyeol did not wade in easily, even after he sat and clutched a pillow to his chest and stared up at Kris.
“I feel like I can still smell you.”
Kris stilled, taking stock of his own body and realized he felt nothing. “That’s impossible.”
Omegas couldn’t be scented outside of heat, and he’d given himself several days to be rid of any scent that could be picked up on, especially since he’d been planning on talking with Chanyeol.
“Is it? It was like I could taste you for days after,” Chanyeol said. “I even hoped you might-“
“Might what,” Kris prompted, half afraid of what Chanyeol would say.
Chanyeol’s nose crinkled, wincing. “That you’d call me when you felt your heat coming on.”
They hadn’t even finished a heat together, was Kris’s first thought. They’d never talked of an arrangement where Chanyeol would help Kris through his heats. They’d never even talked about the heat they’d had together. Chanyeol liking his taste and smell, that was another thing that was making him think his conclusion was correct. Phantom smells, phantom tastes, those he’d never heard of, but he thought those meant something, too.
“It’s okay that you don’t want it, though!” Chanyeol blurted. “I wondered when you asked me to leave, so I never brought it up.”
“I know of my heat days in advance,” Kris said, and Chanyeol nodded, because they’d had that conversation. “Both times I was with you, it was too early. When you helped me, it was early. No warning.”
Once was coincidence. Twice was something more and Chanyeol’s widening eyes told Kris he had grasped the significance. “You mean- How many other alphas trigger your heats?”
Yes. Chanyeol knew exactly what he spoke of, hands bunching tight in the pillow as he stared at Kris. It wasn’t just because Chanyeol was nearby, or that Kris was attracted to him, because that had been true for months. There was something deeper there, and he still wasn’t sure of it all.
“There aren’t any others,” Kris said. “I’ve dated alphas. None did that.”
Maybe his heat was triggered because he wanted Chanyeol to fuck him. Maybe it was something more elemental. An alpha who could trigger an omega’s heats was a good sign - a promise of compatibility in more than knotting.
“They have simulated toys with inflatable knots,” Kris said, and there was no hint of embarrassment even if his grin was wry. “Yours was better.”
“Then why…“ Chanyeol began, his voice trailing off. He eyes were wide, half smiling, half frowning. “Why didn’t you want me to stay?”
“Heats aren’t known for making alphas or omegas think clearly.”
Chanyeol blinked at him. “You thought you were convenient?”
“You’re my friend. Maybe it wasn’t selfless, but you were helping me. My heat was normal when I wasn’t around you. It had always been normal even when I was around you.”
“What does it mean, though? We’re compatible. We’re- I liked it,” Chanyeol said, words almost shy. “I thought you were a beta, that I’d never have a chance to even date you.”
“Then maybe we should date. Maybe my next heat won’t take us by surprise,” Kris said, and Chanyeol all but leaped to his feet.
“Okay! Jongdae is going to be horrible. He told me I should ask you out ages ago, but we were friends, and then your heat, and I didn’t want you to think I just wanted…that.”
The fact that Chanyeol hadn’t leered, hadn’t suggested, told him a great deal. The fact that they’d been friends first, that Chanyeol hadn’t been just any alpha off the street, told him even more.
“Will you stay to the end next time?” And that was the way Kris showed his trust, his want.
“I’d knot you during your heats and every day in between if that was what you wanted,” Chanyeol swore.
And Chanyeol’s cheeks were as flushed as his felt.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” Chanyeol asked. And there was none of the awkward, Chanyeol closing the distance so they could look eye to eye.
And Kris’s lips twitched.
“Go get dressed,” he said, and Chanyeol whooped and wheeled away.
***
Dinner had been nice, comfortable, enlightening. It wasn’t unlike dinners with Chanyeol his friend, but more because Chanyeol’s movements, his looks, were a bit provocative even when he didn’t mean to be. That was the best part, Kris though, was that Chanyeol had no idea what he did to Kris. And, he suspected maybe it was the same for Chanyeol.
But Chanyeol took his hand on the sidewalk, and they walked back toward Chanyeol’s building.
“That was great. So great. Really gr- Really awesome. Sorry,” Chanyeol said, laughing.
“Hey,” Kris said, and Chanyeol stopped.
Chanyeol still held his hand when Kris kissed him, wander of lips and warmth. He wanted to press against Chanyeol’s body and drink him in.
And Chanyeol pulled back his head, breath sharp on an inhale.
“Am I smelling things again?” he demanded.
There was a trickle of warmth down Kris’s spine, and his laugh was a bit off kilter.
“No. You’re not. Can I not kiss you without going into heat?”
“I’m okay with that,” Chanyeol said. And then more sheepishly, “Sorry?”
He called the taxi, breathing into Chanyeol’s neck as they did their best not to make a scene. The quicker they got back, the quicker they could take their time, explore. They knew where they both stood, and that was most important.
In the taxi that time, he made no attempts to disguise his scent, letting his legs stay open as he rocked side to side and rubbed Chanyeol’s belly with his hand. Chanyeol’s eyes threatened and promised both, so many things. With any luck it would be the press of his tongue and the width of his knot, and the heat of his body against Kris’s afterward. Maybe for as long as they could stand.
And Kris was ready.
***