Fool for Love

by Anonymous

Summary:

Charles fixed the collar of his shirt as he stared at himself in the mirror. The shirt was a soft cream color, embroidered with thread of the same shade, giving it a subtle elegant structure. The collar was just high enough that the pale ends of his mating bite peeked through when he turned his head. Good. He knew for a fact that his husband liked this shirt on Charles for that exact reason. Or at least he used to.

"Non, Charles, none of that", he admonished himself, fixing himself a little glare in the mirror. "You can do this. This is your husband for God's sake."

Yes. Yes, that was just Max, his husband, his mate, his alpha, father of his children. Just Max, who hadn't touched him intimately in almost a year.

 

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Or: a lighthearted smut piece about the married couple of Alpha!Max and Omega!Charles, who are both too stupid to realize that they both still very much desire each other

Notes:

There is a reason I am posting this anonymously. Have fun, kids!

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Charles fixed the collar of his shirt as he stared at himself in the mirror. The shirt was a soft cream color, embroidered with thread of the same shade, giving it a subtle elegant structure. The collar was just high enough that the pale ends of his mating bite peeked through when he turned his head. Good. He knew for a fact that his husband liked this shirt on Charles for that exact reason. Or at least he used to.

"Non, Charles, none of that", he admonished himself, fixing himself a little glare in the mirror. "You can do this. This is your husband for God's sake."

Yes. Yes, that was just Max, his husband, his mate, his alpha, father of his children. Just Max, who hadn't touched him intimately in almost a year. Surely, the stupid cream colored shirt would be enough to fix this whole goddamn fucking mess! Charles huffed a short, frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair once more. He looked good, despite the dark eyebags that came with being a parent to two young children. His hair was a little longer than what was perhaps considered appropriate, but there was simply not enough time.

He took a step back from the mirror, to see more of himself. Did the shirt make him look bigger? His weight hadn't fluctuated all that much for his pregnancies to be fair but his chest was definitely still bigger, his nipples got sore quickly when he wore rougher shirts. Well, this one was very soft. Fine material. In fact, it had been one of Max's earlier courting gifts to Charles.

"You still fit into it Charles, so the change can't be too big, now can it?", he muttered to himself, stepping closer to the mirror once more. And he knew that, too. The changes to his body had been rather mild, he had been lucky with his pregnancies, really. Except perhaps for the end period of his second one, but both his children were happy and healthy so he wouldn't complain. Little Lorenza had had a rough start but she was doing just fine now, as was Charles. Two nannies helped him feed and care for the children, as a male omega his milk production was simply not always up to par but he had known that going into the pregnancies. It was simply what it was. He cared for them perfectly well in everything else, as did Max. He really did. Which made this whole no touching him thing all the more confusing to Charles! Max was a great father, spending time with the children, giving them toys, reading to them (Charles often reprimanded him for reading them technical books and Max argued back that they didn't yet understand shit anyways, it was just about hearing his voice and hearing the language) and even getting up at night when Lorenza decided she simply needed to wail for a bit. He'd slink over from his room across the hall, wordlessly taking the crying bundle from Charles' hands and sitting down in the rocking chair.

And that was another thing! Why was he sleeping in his room? When Charles had a perfectly fine bed that they used to share? Max's room was a formality at best! A scam so that guests and staff alike could not accuse them of - Charles didn't even fucking know, they were married for God's sake! The English and their weird stuffiness. If it was up to them Charles would probably not even be working. An omega working? How dare! Well, Max had never given a single fuck about societal rules and neither had Charles, so he was working just fine as a piano instructor for several prestigious clients around town. His husband was very supportive. Not just of his work but of his side endeavors too, helping him find publishers interested in the pieces he composed himself etc.

Admittedly neither Charles nor Max came from poor families, technically both being wealthy enough to not be dependent on work but they were both too passionate to waste away their days...not doing anything. They had settled here in England during their courting, Max following a wealthy patron that was providing many commissions for Max's leather work and Charles following Max because music was liked most everywhere. They had their town house, their money, their works and passion projects and yet! And yet, his husband could not be bothered to satisfy his needs!

Charles huffed again, this close to stomping his foot petulantly on the floor before he caught himself and felt his ears go hot at the childish behavior. He was going insane with this. He had ignored it and waited long enough. If Max truly did not want him anymore- Charles swallowed the sickly feeling on his tongue as he thought those words. If Max truly did not desire him anymore, he could very well have the spine to tell Charles to his face.

He nodded at himself in the mirror before leaving his room and making his way across their spaces, towards Max's workshop. He had heard the soft sounds of Max puttering around in there all day already, as he so often did lately. His husband's works were gaining a reputation around town, commissioned pieces being shown off across salons and dinners. Charles felt a small glimmer of pride in his chest whenever he thought about it. But it did not excuse Max's behavior!

"Max", he greeted as he pushed the door into the workshop open with gusto.

"Charles, hello m-"

"You are neglecting your duties as a husband."

Max's hand froze in the air in front of him at Charles' interruption. The scene Charles was witnessing would be almost comical if he wasn't so irritated. Max's base scent of warm spices permeated the workshop as it always did, hints of oranges starting to weave into it the moment Max had recognized Charles as the intruder, and then the oranges had immediately vanished once more as his words registered. Max's hand slowly settled down on the workbench, project forgotten and abandoned.

"What?", he eventually coughed out.

"You heard me", Charles responded. His eyes narrowed slightly and he kept his hand securely on the door knob. He could see his husband starting to gear up, jaw working silently.

"Charles, I don't- I spend time with you and the children, don't I? And I-" Max was almost tripping over his words, the way he did when his thoughts were faster than his tongue. "I try to support your hobbies and your projects and, and I try to provide financial support for our family and-"

"I did not marry you for your money", Charles interrupted him. He could see Max bite back a response, not so much at his words but his tone.

"That is not what I said at all, Charles."

Charles could see Max's temper start to flare, satisfaction lighting up his chest at being able to do so with such ease. Max's ears and cheeks were starting to take on a pink hue, it always looked so charming on him.

"I will concede that what you said so far is true, you're being a wonderful father", Charles admitted. He could give credit where credit was due, he wasn't cruel. "But you have other duties as a husband still", he added haughtily.

Max spread his hands in front of him helplessly, his light eyes swerving around the room as if he'd find a solution to his confusion there. They settled back onto Charles quickly though. As they always did, Charles thought with another shadow of satisfaction.

"What do you mean, Charles? Stop talking in riddles, will you?"

Well.

"It's been a year!", he responded, his voice far louder and sharper than he had meant to. "A year since you've last...touched me", he pressed on, the last bit being definitely less confident than he had started.

Max was staring at him like he had just announced that English food was the height of good cuisine. He waved his hands wildly infront of himself and Charles tried hopelessly to not be endeared. Good god, he had been married to this man for over 3 years, he really should be over his little crush.

"We cuddle with the children! Almost every other night! I scent you at least once a week", Max rushed out, still gesturing.

"That is not what I mean and you know it!"

"Evidently, I do not." There was genuine frustration starting to bubble up in Max's voice. Charles could also detect it in his scent, sour like citrus but without the sweetness of his usual oranges. Charles took a slow breath, trying not to look away from Max's imploring gaze.

"Touch me...intimately."

It was like he had set off a bomb, rather than uttered three words. There was an immediate shift in room. Max had stopped breathing for a moment before breathing in slowly. His gaze flitted across the room once more. This time it did not return to Charles and he felt its abscence like a cold omen settling on his shoulders. His own nervous scent was starting to disperse in the room, he could smell it mixing with Max's scent.

"I provided toys", his husband said slowly, voice choked and unsubtle.

"I do not care for those", Charles answered in the same tone. He really did not. First he had thought Max was trying to court him again but then had quickly realized that these objects had meant to replace his husband. Tsk! Fool.

"I just...Well, you must get tired, of course, of me crowding you all the time just to get a taste of...", Max started but trailed off. He cleared his throat awkwardly. His hands were now fiddling with loose ends of whatever was on his workbench, gaze solidly fixed there.

"Of what?", Charles immediately pressed. Max had had that growly undertone in his raspy voice that he used to take with him. Maybe they were headed in right direction.

"Just me, pressing up on you like a horny dog, how it was back-"

"No, finish your sentences."

"Charles."

"So that's it, is it?", Charles snapped, finally losing his patience. "You don't desire me at all anymore?"

"Charles, what? What on God's green earth are you-"

"A year, Max! A year since our youngest daughter was born and you haven't shown any interest in-"

"It was a difficult pregnancy! You were dead on your feet by the end of it and after the birth." Max's hands were once more flying through the air. "Charles, there were moments during which the doctor told me I could lose you."

Max's scent was changing rapidly, a whole storm of emotions scattering among it, but Charles wouldn't back down now.

"And so your solution is to just never touch me again? Lorenza is well and healthy, she is so strong already at one year old and no longer needs my constant care."

"We both agreed we did not want more than two children. Did you change your mind and not tell me?", Max questioned.

Charles threw him a glare. He would not get distracted by that bait. "That's not -! I can take medication to make me not conceive during heats! You act like this is the 16th century!", he thundered on. "What did you mean to say earlier! Taste of ?"

"To get a taste of your slick, goddammit Charles!"

Satisfaction and lust spread across Charles' skin like quicksilver. Yes, this is what he came here for. Max was running his hands through his hair, making it stick in all directions before hiding his face in his palms. "Yes, it is exactly what you'd think I would say. Why are you so-"

"But not anymore, do you?", Charles kept pushing. "So that's it, no more- just no more desire? I've given you the two children you wanted and now-"

"The day I stop desiring you is the day I stop breathing."

Another shot of pleasure raced down Charles' spine but he couldn't stop here, couldn't just believe him. "Liar! I know the pregnancy changed my body a bit but I didn't... I didn't think you the kind of alpha that-"

"Charles, this is not at all what this is about-"

"I remember when just a hint of skin was enough to make you press up on me", Charles said, steadfastly staring at Max, daring him to back down first. His husband's cheeks were steadily coloring, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Now it is as if the moment you can smell my arousal, you flee the room. You used to... knot me whenever I asked for it-"

"Charles, the children!" Max stared at the open door behind Charles.

"Are not here! That's what I came here to say, too. My doctor informed me that my heat will strike within the next day as my body is trying to return to its previous rhythm after the pregnancy caused by your triggered rut."

The whirlwind of emotions in Max's scent suddenly christallized, distilled into what Charles usually identified as...guilt? Why would Max feel guilty though? Their current issue of discussion hadn't been a problem before, there had not been enough time between the first and second pregnancy for it to become an issue. A surprise rut had immediately made Charles pregnant again. Not against his will or anything! He had talked to several doctors before joining his mate, who had all assured him that he was in perfectly fine condition to receive his second child if he wished so. And anyways, it was Max's rut, not Charles' heat so the chances had been low and his other option had been to let his mate suffer trough a surprise rut on his own. They were not pleasant by any means. Max's rhythm had likely been all thrown off through Charles' pregnancy hormones. Not necessarily Mother Nature's smartest invention. It had been... quite an experience. Charles lightly shook his head, trying to blink back into the present before he started blushing.

"The children are staying with their uncles and mates, as well as their nannies", he continued, voice not betraying his inner turmoil. Arthur had been too happy to provide heat shelter to increase chances of a third Leclerc-Verstappen child after first Victor and second Lorenza. His youngest brother had been driving Max crazy with increasinlgy creative variations on the name of Arthur in his most recent letters. They were visiting from Monaco with their own mates and families, staying for several months.

"So it is just us in the house. No servants beginning tomorrow morning until the end of the weekend, so I can ride out my heat-" (the word ride suddenly conjured up vivid memories of Charles desperately riding his husband's thigh, big hands securely guiding his hips in their rocking motions, the glossy sheen of slick heavy on the fine light hairs of Max's thick thighs and he faltered momentarily in his passioned speech) "-and I would have greatly appreciated the assistance of my mate and husband. But alas." Charles swiped a cruel hand through the space between them. "Now hand me your vest, if you're not gonna wear it. If I cannot have my husband's assistance, I shall at least have his scent."

Charles raised his chin slightly, staring down his nose at his silent husband. This look was usually enough to spur him into action. That power was still there apparently. There was no hesitation as Max tossed him the vest from the back of his chair. But he knew that. In all other aspects Max was being the perfect mate, a great father, an enthusiastic supporter but- He did not even step around his workbench to come near him, tsk. Fool, Charles thought again as he caught the vest, resisting the immediate urge to put his nose into the fabric. Fool, but this time he meant himself.

He stared at Max a little longer, hoping for a reaction. When nothing came, he swallowed his disappointment with difficulty. Nothing, not even a hint of interest at the mention of Charles' heat. Turning his back, Charles left and let the door fall shut noisily.

He held back frustrated tears as he climbed the stairs to his room quickly, shutting himself in and throwing the vest onto his half made nest on the bed. "Dammit", he whispered hoarsely. Dammit, dammit, dammit. The longer he stared, the harder the tears burned. Eventually he gave up, peeling out of the stupid cream colored shirt (still taking care to not damage it, too precious) and instead slipping into Max's suit vest. It looked stupid of course but it smelt so richly of oranges and spices. He sat in the middle of his nest. It was not finished yet but already his mate's scent made it better. It was not the only piece of Max's clothing in there of course. They lived in the same house, Charles could steal his husband's clothes easily. But this one, this one was fresh, worn just earlier and well loved too. It probably held Max's scent even after a wash, he wore it so often. It had been a gift by Charles, too.

Well, he thought, well, it was what it was. So what if Max did not desire him like a lover anymore? He was still grateful to have him as his husband and mate, he told himself. It was true, too!

Charles tucked his nose into the fabric on his shoulder and told himself he didn't miss him as his lover.

 

 

 

"Godverdomme", Max groaned into his palms. He was still sat at his workbench. Oh, he had gotten himself into such a fucking mess.

He had managed to let his husband think, to let Charles, the most beautiful man on earth, think that Max did not desire him anymore. Yes. Perfect. Could not be farther from the truth, though. If anything, he desired his mate more than ever before. Just hearing Charles say the word "knot" had been enough to set sparks off in his brain, leaving him stupid.

But truly, his husband must be so tired of Max's greedy hands on him. He had put him through two pregnancies, back to back. The last one, their little Lorenza had been grueling. Max had at one point almost lost all hope, the doctor telling him gently to prepare himself for the worst case. And now, everytime he thought about touching Charles again like this, like a lover, he could not shake this feeling of guilt. Even outside of ruts and heats, when chances of pregnancies were incredibly low for a male omega, the risk of putting him through that again- no.

And anyways, Charles was probably tired. Both tired because taking care of children was hard work and tired of Max acting like a horny juvenile that had just presented. Charles had not been telling lies earlier, Max really used to be on him at every possible chance. He groaned into his palms again, embarrassed about his past self and embarrased about the fact that nothing really had changed in that regard. He still wanted that. All the time.

Sometimes he would see Charles and the children cuddled together in the sitting room, silently reading a novel while the children napped and his chest would be so full of light and love he was afraid he would choke on it and collapse at his husband's feet, right where he belonged. And at the same time, seeing Charles in his thin soft private clothes, watching over their children (their children! Max had helped make those! He was a father!!!), the soft subtle swell of his bosom, the lean muscles in his forearm, the long pianists fingers curling delicately around the pages, the- Arousal flooded through him like tidal waves sometimes, unbidden and uncontrollable. His teeth ached to scrape along the pale scar on Charles' strong neck, feeling his own mating bite tingle in response.

But it felt selfish, so selfish when his husband showed no sign of reciprocation. Max could still smell everything else on him, fondness, trust, amusement at his antics sometimes, sadness, anger, annoyance. Never arousal though. And that was fine, wasn't it? Sure, yes, it did hurt his pride a little, his most primal side feeling hurt at seeing his mate so blatantly uninterested. It definitely hurt when sometimes, after carefully scenting the children, he would use the chance to touch his husband just slightly. Nothing overtly sexual, just close, softer than a perfunctionary scenting. Grasp his wrist to softly rub against his scent gland there and touch his nose and cheek to Charles neck. At the beginning he had almost imagined that he could see some longing in the green of Charles' eyes but there was never a hint of arousal in his scent, like there used to be during a thorough scenting. Just a melancholy mixture of adoration and sadness. Sadness! Why was he sad? Was he sad that he had married Max? Sad that he had children with him? No, no, Max told himself, he was being mean and cruel. Charles was no pushover and very clear about his emotions. He would not have pretended to love Max for so long only to suddenly change his mind.

But then what was it? Max was so confused about it all, ashamed of his own arousal when it was so clearly unwelcome and now his husband accused him of neglecting him? That had not been his intention at all. He hadn't been naive enough to believe that his mate didn't have needs at all. He had tried to provide... toys. Not that he had been opposed to providing pleasure with his own hands and mouth if Charles had wished so but-

"Whatever", Max scoffed, still very much alone in his workshop and trying to ignore his half hard dick. He was pathetic. He was gonna have to get his shit together. His mate had very clearly asked him to help him through his heat. Charles had said that further pregnancies could be avoided and Max would simply have to trust in his mate to know what was best for his health. They could probably try those new things, those condoms or what they were called. Max tried not to wrinkle his nose as he imagined the texture on his dick. But they wouldn't be helpful during a heat anyways, kind of defeating the point of Max joining instead of letting Charles ride out his heat alone. Sure, Max's scent would be calming but clothes could provide that. Clothes could however not provide a knot to pump him full of his cu-

Max stood abruptly, now more than half hard and ran his hands through his hair again. It was late, bordering on really late and he figured there was nothing he could do right now but go to sleep and see what happened tomorrow. He killed the lights around the workshop, checking the front door lock and saying good night to the cook who was still messing around in the kitchen. Probably preparing food rations for when all the staff would be gone for Charles' heat.

When Max came up the stairs into the hallway the door to Charles' room was closed. He was clearly not welcome at the moment to continue their discussion. He hesitated anyway, stood near the door. Max held his breath, he could hear Charles rummage. Building a nest? God, he missed sharing nests with his mate. They were always so messy but comfortable and homey, smelling like pack and mate and sex. Sure, they nested with the children in the living room often. But heat nests were something different.

Max shuffled into his own room, staring at the sad state of his bed. Several moments later, he crept into the hallway once more, dropping his used bed sheets in front of the closed door. It was not really a peace offering or anything, he had always done that for his heats. Charles could always just leave it there, if he didn't want them. Max crawled into his new sheets, smelling like nothing at all. He very pointedly laid on his back, refusing himself the relief of pressing his cock into the soft comfort of the mattress, hands rigidly at his sides as he tried to count himself to sleep.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

Hmm.

The next morning Max woke up with the distinct feeling that he was in trouble.

As he tried to shake off the dregs of sleep, he became aware that his body had betrayed him througout the night. Where he had specifally avoided giving himself relief, he now found himself on his belly, hips pressed firmly against the mattress. It was not necessarily unusual for him to wake up hard, especially if his dreams had been visited by his favorite person.

But something about this morning felt different, the need feeling so much more urgent. Like he should be somewhere, like this had a purpose. Max forcefully stilled his hips, rubbing his face into the soft material of pillow and taking a deep breath.

Oh. That would explain it. He could smell lavender and something sweet. Charles. Or more accurately, the smell of Charles being aroused. In heat. Pre-heat?

Max lifted his head up and gazed towards his open door. Another deep breath and he was quite certain. Yes, Charles was in pre-heat. His scent was wafting in from the hallway. It took almost herculean effort to keep his hips still, his cock already starting to weep pathetically. Max gave himself a quick shake before he swiftly got out of bed.

He dressed in the first pair of pants and shirt he could find, foregoing socks or shoes. If everything worked out, he'd be in bed again soon.

Stepping out into the hallway was like a punch in the chest. His mate's scent was filling the room, Max could see his door slightly ajar. An invitation?

Please, please, please, he thought to himself. But first he'd have to prepare, do this right. He was not going to be a knot-dumb alpha and just barge into his mate's nest to fuck him. Although every single one of his primal instincts insisted that it would immediately fix all his problems and aches. And he wanted to. He really, really, really wanted to. But he also wanted to take care of his mate properly. He had already let him down so many times lately, he needed to do a good job here.

Max pointedly kept his gaze to his feet as he shuffled towards the staircase, ignoring his insistent imagination sending him flashes of hot, wet, sweet, mate, pink, tight, yours yours yoursyoursyoursmineminemine.

After making it to the kitchen, Max tried to calm his breathing but it wouldn't really work with Charles’ scent having already reached every part of the house. Something in Max bristled at thinking about how this would be if Charles had not sent all staff on leave for the week.

Max would probably be fighting his instincts to intimidate the cook, poor elderly alpha that he was. Charles was always going on about how good his tiramisu was and Max… Well, he could cook well enough to keep himself alive. Shrugging as he went to inspect the prepped meals the cook had left them he hoped for some tiramisu himself. It really was very good.

He was busy plating the snacks and water, then felt like something was still missing. Their cook had done a fantastic job, providing a mixture of nutritious yet light options, but Max figured a sliced apple was never wrong. Maybe he was also shirking the inevitable. Even if his mate decided to deny him entrance into the nest, he'd still feel better knowing that Charles had water and food nearby.

Angry footfalls on the steps were his only warning, the enticing scent of his mate growing stronger way before Charles even stepped into the kitchen.

He almost cut himself when he did a double take at his bare legs. Max was sure he was in one of Max's own shirts, long and falling to the top of Charles' milky thighs, the spring sun not quite strong enough yet to return his tan to him. 

His cheeks are rosy, his hair mussed. Green eyes were blazing at him, a small ring of gold already bleeding into the color.

He was smelling like an absolute dream, lavender and honey and rich warm spices. Heat hasn't hit fully just yet. The alluring smell of pre-heat wasn't any easier on his brain though, thoughts immediately going a little more syrup-y. Despite that he could tell that his husband was not amused. He put the knife down and took another deep breath, ready to get this fixed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His husband was in deep trouble if Charles had anything to say. He could at least have the decency to pretend to care. His mate was going into heat and Max hadn't even poked his head into his room to see whether he was alive.

If he wasn't so incredibly pretty with his blue eyes and rolled up shirtsleeves, Charles was sure he'd be trying to throttle him. That was a lie. His anger was just a distraction, a little layer of protection so he wouldn't have to confront his devastation at his mate's disinterest. He was in heat and yet Max was not visibly excited to get between his thighs. The faint scent of oranges was mocking him in the air, an instinctual reaction of Max's to his heat pheromones.

 

“So that is really it? Not even drenched in heat scent, leaving my bedroom door open to entice you.... nothing”, he huffed. He put his hands onto his hips for emphasis.

 

“Charles-”

 

“No, don't Charles me with that voice! Have I become that repellent to you that not even heat-”

Charles heard a huff somewhere between annoyance and amusement before he found himself pinned to the kitchen cupboards. His head was spinning from the fast movement. His nose was invaded by the soft smell of citrus and hips pressed insistently into his. He was wearing only a long shirt, everything else had already started feeling suffocating. He was not sure whether he was thankful for that right now or not. Only the shirt’s thin fabric and Max's pants separating them.

Charles shivered with sensitivity, feeling the shirt soak up the pre-cum that was already clinging to the tip of his cock. His cheeks heated even more, all his senses honing in on the pressure of Max's erection. He imagined he could feel the heat through the fabric, pinned and immobile as his mate kept him there. Oh, he could definitely feel his size, his memories supplying him with several images and sensations.

Max shook him out of his thoughts, hands gently squeezing his wrists where he still held onto them. He waited until Charles had made eye contact until he spoke:

“I don't know what made you think I don't desire you. I've been hard since the moment I stepped into the hall, hell since I've woken up, your scent filling the entire house.”

 

Charles couldn't reply anything, senses still overwhelmed by the proximity of his mate. Max gently rubbed his thumbs along the scent glands in Charles’ wrist, watching his face with wide blue eyes. The sweet honey scent of Charles’ arousal swept up between them and he could have almost cried in relief when it made Max lean even closer, face slowly descending towards his neck. Oranges permeated the air and mixed with the honey, Charles bucking in his husband's grasp but Max held him steady as he took deep breaths against Charles’ neck.

His mating bite tingled, a soft whine leaving his mouth involuntarily. Finally, finally, finally, his inner omega chanted. His mate was close and interested and his hard cock now pressed insistently at Charles’ own erection. Max was crowding him, aggressive and confident like he had not seen him since before his pregnancies.

 

“Where is this sudden action coming from?”, he gasped out, clearing his throat when his voice came out too high.

 

His mate ignored him, tongue darting out to glide along the mating bite.

 

“Max”, Charles pressed.

 

“I can finally smell it on you.”

 

“Smell what?”

 

“Lust. Arousal.”

 

“So it's just the heat?”, Charles asked, chest sinking at the same time that his body sang. Max had the audacity to click his tongue at him.

 

“You're not even really in heat yet. You're in pre-heat. You know I can smell the difference”, he mumbled against his skin, teeth softly scraping a path down towards his shoulder. When had Max opened his shirt?

“But God, I haven't smelt your arousal in so long”, Max continued, ending his sentence in a groan. What?

Charles pulled his face back up with two hands, Max having released his wrists after two tugs.

“What do you mean, you can finally smell me? You flee the room the moment I start to even think about sex.”

 

“I fled- I left because I was getting aroused and didn't want to burden you with that.”

 

“Ah yes, such a burden, to know that my husband finds me pleasing”, Charles drawled sarcastically. “You're so stupid, mon coeur.”

Teasing came too natural, the pet name slipping his tongue before he could swallow it back down.

He almost didn't believe his eyes as he watched his husband's pupils expand after the pet name but he could see it clearly. The soft blue was being swallowed by black. Max looked like he wanted to swallow Charles whole too.

But why hadn't his mate been able to smell it on him before? Dimly, the voice of his primary care doctor came back to mind. Sure, Charles had had very few drastic changes to his body but change in scent release was apparently one of the bullets he hadn't dodged. Oh.

 

“It did not feel good, when I could smell nothing akin to reciprocation on you”, Max whispered now, face still hidden. He was insistently tucking his nose into Charles’ neck as if to make up for all those times.

 

“Might have been the post-birth hormones”, Charles whispered back. He brought one hand up to bury it into Max's golden strands. His husband finally looked back up at his face.

 

“So you did like it when I touched you while scenting?” He looked much like an eager puppy, face earnest and open.

 

“Of course, Max. I looked forward to it every week.”

 

His mate sighed like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders, tucking his face back into Charles’ space and mouthing along his collarbone.

Relief tried to flood Charles' brain but there were still bubbles of doubt and insecurity all around. This explained some of it but not all.

 

“Max”, he said again, as he clasped his face between his hands and forced eye contact. His mate went patiently, his alpha just too happy to follow where Charles dragged him.

 

“I could smell arousal and relief on you”, Charles started then bit his lips. This thought in particular had driven him crazy in the last weeks. “Are you seeing a beta? Because there is no omega scent on you but clearly you have had…your own needs.” 

 

Max recoiled like he had slapped him across the face. Actual hurt flickered over his husband's face. Hurt! When he was the one sneaking! It wasn't like Charles was naive! Alphas did that! He'd been told that it was common and not altogether unusual for Alphas to see other...lovers occasionally. He hadn't thought Max the type but-

 

“You're not smelling an omega on me because I'm not seeing any other omega but you”, Max all but growled at him. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were blazing. Charles immediately felt a curious mixture between sorry and heavily turned on. His alpha was so intense. Strong mate, good mate, his primal side purred in his head. 

 

“You're not smelling anyone on me but my own relief because my hands work just as fine as before I met you.”

 

Oh. Well, that was a pretty picture in his head, wasn't it?

But he could see through Max's teasing tone. His husband was actually hurt about these accusations and now that his insecurities had been stilled, he could see why it could be perhaps a little extreme. He would have to fix this, later, when the insistent press of Max's hot body wasn't making his brain slow and gooey.

 

“Max”, Charles whispered as he pulled his handsome face closer. “Kiss me already.”

 

The scowl left Max's face as quick as it had come, replaced by a sunny smile. In fact, his mate was smiling too hard to properly kiss him. He behaved quickly when Charles hit his shoulder in reprimand.

 

The kiss was perfect. Familiar and exciting, soft and hot. Charles greedily sucked on Max's tongue, whining when his mate pulled back.

But it was only to put his hand onto Charles’ neck to bend his head where he wanted it, moving back into the kiss to deepen it further. He didn't let Charles breathe properly for several long moments, the soft wet sounds of their mouths echoing in the empty kitchen around them.

Charles was being soothed and irritated at the same time, every cell of him sighing in relief at the same time that his arousal threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to wiggle his hips, seeking friction against the soft material of their clothes and the warm plane of Max's abdomen.

The little movement his husband allowed him was not enough. It was too much, too little. His instincts couldn't decide whether he wanted to stay here forever or whether he wanted to come. He only realized that he was panting and moaning when Max pulled back again, glancing at him.

 

“Your heat isn't even properly here yet but you already sound so good, schatje. You smell so good.”

Max pressed into him further as if he could get any closer. He had mentioned Charles’ scent a handful of times now but it still felt good. Everything felt good. Max's mouth on his, his tongue teasing his own, the warm bulk of his body pressing in on him close and intimate.

 

“Are you already wet for me?” It was whispered directly into his ear. Charles felt his insides clench, breath stuck in his throat before it came out in a long whine. He watched as if in trance as Max finally allowed some space between their bodies, the hand not in his hair softly touching a fingertip to the place above his navel, still above the shirt. Only the first two buttons had been popped. The fingertip slid down slowly, studiously avoiding his dick. Charles suddenly halted its path, unsure whether he should voice his concern or just wait and see.

 

“I- There is- I mean-”, he started, stuttering like a schoolboy. “Less slick than there used to”, he quickly rushed out. There, he had said it and nothing had exploded. “It happens after a pregnancy sometimes,but I can... there's things I can do, probably, to…” 

He trailed off, Max's hand gently gliding further, unstoppable in its quest to reach the space between his thighs. It stopped at his left hipbone though, idly circling the slight protrusion of bone.

 

“Don't worry, love. I'll be careful with you”, Max said close to his face. Another kiss, this time to his collarbone, then a soft bite. “And careful with your pussy. Make sure you're plenty slick before I give you my knot.”

Charles didn't dare breath, couldn't breath, arousal flooding his brain and making him stupid. Max's voice had gone even rougher than usual.

“What do you reckon, dear husband? Are two orgasms enough?”

 

His hand finally made contact with his destination, Charles shaking like electricity was running through him. Max was teasingly rubbing at the space where his clit turned into his dick, sensitive and made to turn Charles’ higher cognitive functions off. The flames of pre-heat were licking at his limbs and he nodded. He thought he did, Max could have asked him anything at that point. He flushed further, Max still gently rubbing his fingers at the top of his cunt and simply watching his face.

 

“Max”, he wined, dignity being hard to reach at this point. He felt he would go insane if his mate didn’t go further soon.

 

Max did not disappoint, in the next second he had lifted Charles onto the counter behind him. He hastily swept his hand behind him to check he hadn't set Charles down onto any food or cutting utensils. Satisfied that he had not, he pressed closer again, confidently parting Charles' thighs to settle between them. Charles pressed his hands onto his shoulders, trying to tempt him to step even closer, ever closer, to suck on his neck again, to put his hands beneath his shirt, rub his clothed cock against his wet pussy, to-

Instead Max leant down and hunched over, slinging both arms underneath his thighs and then resting his forearms along the counter. Charles could feel himself be wholly exposed, his insides clenching with need once more.

He watched as Max reveled in his physical reaction, shifting his shirt up just high enough to expose his leaking dick. He was hard and pink against his own stomach, pearls of precum shining along his shaft before they joined the even pinker color of his pussy.

Max simply seemed to gaze at him for moments on end and Charles tried to distract himself from the intense feeling by gazing right back. It was a shame his mate wasn't without a shirt. Max had such nice arms and shoulders for his viewing pleasure.

That was the last coherent thought Charles’ brain would allow for now, his thoughts going blissfully blank as he felt the softness of Max's pouted lips on the crown of his dick. His eyes shot down, mesmerized by the view. He was pretty sure he was making noises again but he couldn't be sure.

There was nothing else in the world but the wet heat of his alpha as Max slowly took him deeper and deeper, just to pull back and tease him with long kitten licks from bottom to top. Charles desperately tried to keep his eyes open, head threatening to roll back between his shoulders. He clenched his fingers back into the soft golden strands. 

Max hummed around his mouthful, then pulled off. He stayed close to his dick though, instead looking up at Charles with his stupid stupid stupid blue eyes, all long bottom lashes and crinkly lines when he smiled.

“Such a nice cock, schatje. You should fuck me with it again sometime.”

 

He had meant it when he said Max didn't give a rat’s ass about societal rules. He would let his omega fuck him or well... it was usually more: Charles, starstruck on his back as he watched Max's powerful thighs work himself up and down on Charles’ cock.

The memories combined with the wet heat of Max's mouth were too much. There was no warning as he felt his dick twitch, dribbling cum onto his alpha's tongue. Charles moaned, hips twitching desperately but Max held him steady, leisurely sucking until Charles had nothing left to give.

Max eventually let go of his softening cock and Charles tried to get his breathing back under control. It was pointless as not two seconds later, he felt Max's tongue swiping at the folds of his pussy instead. It was not distinguishable who groaned louder at the contact but Charles liked to think that it was him. He was competitive like that.

Max moved his arms, trying to gather him ever closer to his face, mouthing at his cunt like a starved man. Charles simply tried to hold on, mind still reeling from his first orgasm. Max eventually pulled back slightly, his lips glistening with spit and slick. He licked them absentmindedly, eyes closing at the taste before they opened again and looked up at him.

 

“You taste just as good as I remembered. Think you can take my fingers already?” He punctured his question with a peck to the scent gland of the inner thigh. “Wanna feel you clench on them while you come down from your climax.”

 

Who was he to deny his genius husband? Charles nodded frantically, mouth falling open and eyes shut as he felt the familiar touch of two fingers at his entrance. Warm and blunt, they entered him slowly, carefully. Charles could feel himself tightening rhythmically around them, involuntary aftershocks of his climax. It felt so good to not be empty.

 

Max straightened up from his position, his unoccupied hand coming up to softly push at the strands of hair that had fallen into Charles’ face. Alright?, his eyes seemed to say and Charles nodded, turning his face to press a kiss into the palm of his hand.

Max smiled at him then dropped his gaze towards his bosom. Urgh, Charles thought. How many insecurities could jump out at him before he gave up? 

 

“God, fuck, your tits”, Max was saying now, having pushed up his shirt high enough to expose his nipples. “So fun to play with before pregnancy, but now…Still big and they always look so tender, can I touch?”

 

He did not seem to be lying, eyes fixed and mesmerized, his blue gaze only flicking up once during question. Charles had been so worried about it. He knew that sometimes there was still some milk dribbling out and soaking into his undergarments. He felt incredibly unsexy about it. What was he, a leaky faucet?

 

His mate evidently did not share his fears, big wet mouth impatiently attaching to one of his nipples, kissing and sucking softly. His fingers were still resting in his cunt and he cried out softly when Max switched to the other nipple, gently pulling on it.

 

The relief he felt was so strong, it came out as almost a sob.

 

Immediately the wet mouth left his tit and the pressure of his fingers was gone.

“Charles? Did that hurt? You tell me if it's too much, if I get too rough with you-”

 

Fool. Charles tightened his grip in Max's hair, yanking him up to pull him right into his face.

 

“You mean like I used to, when my husband still regularly attended to me? In fact my husband used to be a very efficient lover, thorough and attentive, receptive to my desires and respectful of my boundaries. I would wonder as to why this should have changed?” He used his grip to shake Max very gently, making sure he still had his full attention. “If I don't want something, he will be the first to know but for now I think my husband has promised me pleasure. I would like to see him see to it. Promptly.”

 

They stared at each other for some seconds before Max narrowed his eyes at him. He slowly turned his head towards Charles’ forearm from where he was still holding onto Max's hair and pressed a bite into the soft skin there. It was a mocking reprimand for his cheek but it quickly got soothed by a kiss and a smile. His fingers were returned to their proper place, the low squelching sound making Charles’ ears ever redder. Max gave him another short peck, chaste and sweet to his lips, before ducking down again, quickly reducing him to a quivering mess for all his bravado. He'd be ashamed about how fast his second orgasm also hit him but he couldn't quite grasp onto the feeling, too distracted by watching Max drag a broad palm across his lower face. It does nothing to remove the glistening of Charles’ slick across his lips and chin.

 

He shivered softly in his place, cunt still clenching around Max's fingers. He cooed at his mate softly, who immediately crowded closer again, enveloping him in a one armed hug. Charles draped his arms over his shoulders, satisfied and drowsy.

His brain was both clear and crowded, the two orgasms momentarily holding the heat hormones at bay while his normal libido was still rattling at its cage. Now that he had gotten his husband back into his hands he was unwilling to let go. He could feel the heat of Max’s cock through his pants where it was pressed into Charles’ groin.

They parted eventually, Charles being assessed with a concerned stare. He made sure to smile at his mate, unashamed to let the purring sound emanate from his chest. His inner omega was very happy, very very very happy. But why weren't they in his nest? Oh Lord, had they just done this in the kitchen?

His purring abruptly stopped, his bewildered eyes scanning around him as Max lifted him from the counter. In the kitchen!

 

“Do you not wanna be in my nest?”

He pouted at his alpha, making sure to look through his lashes. Max huffed at him, calling his trick and gently straightened his shirt instead. It was unnecessary, but Charles could appreciate his mate's caring nature.

 

“I was actually preparing snacks and checking the front door lock before I wanted to come up and beg for entrance to your nest”, Max said now casually.

 

“Oh.”

 

Max hummed and stepped back to his forgotten cutting board. “Why don't you go up and see if everything is proper while I finish this here?”

 

Charles regarded him for a second before nodding. He turned towards the stairs, then turned once more and pressed a quick kiss to his mate's neck, watching the shiver run down Max's back.

 

“Hurry.”

 

“Of course, liefje.”

 

 

 

 

Notes:

I had planned more but I honestly keep forgetting how FUCKING LONG it takes to write.

Anyways, 5 comments and I'll upload the bonus material. Deal?

Chapter 3: Bonus

Notes:

Haha! You thought you'd never see me again! You thought I had forgotten about my promise to upload the rest!

I had covid and then that turnt into a bronchitis and then that almost turnt into pneumonia. Now I can hear you say, Hey! Didn't that give you so much time to write? To which I'll have to reply: True! But my brain was severely mushy and I could barely speak in my first language, nevermind writing a coherent sentence in my second language.

But now it is here, typos and all, bc I can't fucking format on my phone. Bon apetit.

Charles was on all fours, completely naked and in equal measures horny and nervous. Here he was, waiting for his (stupid, slow, no good, why was he taking so long, oh god) husband to enter the room and then enter his nest and then hopefully finally enter Charles. He was peeking over his shoulder, bare ass still pointing towards the door, when Max finally shuffled his way in. His husband immediately started fumbling with the tablet, rooted to the spot. The porcelain dishes clink-clinked delicately before they settled again.

 

Charles was pleased by this reaction, giggling before he let himself fall to the side, gazing up at Max innocently from within the rumpled sheets of his nest. They smelled like Max. He had found them dumped before his door this early morning, immediately weaving them into the outer perimeters of his nest. The familiar scent was good, calming, steadying. It was also making him wet, his inner omega demanding not only the scent of his mate but his touch.

 

Yet Max was still just standing there, expression blank, unblinking as if Charles had put a spell on him.

 

 

Insecurities from earlier were making their re-appearance, despite the happenings in the kitchen. He was without the shield of the shirt now, completely bare and illuminated by the soft morning light coming from the windows. Max would be able to just see everything. The light patterns of stretch marks on his stomach and the swell of his breasts. He had liked those though. Hadn’t he?

 

Charles did not actually want to know. He did not want to wait and see whether his husband still found him beautiful. It used to be plainly written on his face every time they got naked (or even partially so) but he could not for the sake of him risk looking at Max's face now. 

 

Well, he was an omega in heat, or would be in a few short moments. Charles could feel the molten heat in his belly start to rise into a wildfire, his brain growing hazier and foggier with each breath. He wanted a knot. Specifically, he wanted his mate’s knot. 

 

Well, he was an omega in heat and whether Max found him pretty or not, he had what it took to get an alpha to knot him. Charles wiggled onto his belly again, then shifted himself onto his knees, ass up in the air. He heard Max's breath catch and then once more when he snaked an arm through the gap of his thighs, using his fingers to spread his pussy open. It made a quiet squelching sound.

 

Charles buried his face into one of the pillows, cheeks red and breath quick. The slick he was producing was all over his inner thighs. He still couldn't look back, fearing indifference or worse on Max's face.

 

 His alpha did not do anything. Nothing! Was he even breathing back there? Charles made a cooing sound, primal and enticing, an universal omega sign to invite his alpha into action. 

 

Nothing. 

 

Why would he not touch him? Here he was, presenting to his alpha and he wouldn't even touch him! 

 

 

“Charles”, Max said softly from behind him. The sound of his voice sent a shiver down his spine but still there was no touch. Charles bit down on a sudden sob and gave up. He let his body collapse to the side once more, curling up a little, still hiding his face in the pillow.

 

“Close the blinds then.”

 

“What now?” Max asked blankly. Charles heard him finally putting down the stupid tablet, probably on the dresser. 

 

“Charles, I can't keep up with you”, Max mumbled now. He was closer and his tone was distinctly fond. Charles pressed his face deeper into the sheets that smelled like his mate. 

 

“Charlie”, Max whispered. 

 

Charles stayed where he was. Maybe if he ignored Max long enough, he would… touch him, or he would huff and finally leave. Maybe Charles didn't need his knot, maybe he could just ride out his heat all alone like he used to do. He’d rather cry and ache than have Max only touch him because he thought he'd have to help. Charles wanted Max to want him. Like he used to.

 

He tensed when he heard Max indeed huff through his nose, that little noise so familiar whenever his husband got stumped by something or other. Would he-? God, Charles had lied. He didn't want Max to leave him alone! He would take his pity over being alone. Max couldn't-

 

Charles gasped when he was suddenly grabbed and turnt onto his back. He hasn't been manhandled in so long (a lie, his husband had been throwing him around in the kitchen a mere half hour ago), Max just grabbing his pliant body and moving it to where he wanted it.

One calloused hand was pressing softly onto his collarbones, pinning him to the mattress. Max wasn't completely braced above him, only one knee up on the mattress. His hand and his gaze were enough to keep Charles rooted to the spot anyway.

 

 

“Speak up. Why would I want to close the curtains?”, Max asked him. This tone was familiar too. Max's raspy voice was caught between annoyance at his husband's antics and the endless bounds of fondness he reserved for him.

“To not have to see me.” His own answer came back as barely a whisper, afraid to speak it into existence.

 

They stared at each other for several long moments. Charles pretended to ignore his rapid heartbeat and the precum dripping from his aching erection. Max's blue gaze was intense as ever, staring directly into Charles’ mind. When he couldn't take it anymore he made an indignant little sound, turning his face to the side. His husband had the audacity to click his tongue at him.

 

“You actually mean that”, Max mumbled darkly. 

A hand grabbed Charles’ chin, roughly turning his face back. Max leant in close enough that their noses were almost touching, making Charles go cross-eyed when he tried to keep his eyes focused.

 

“Did you forget what happened in the kitchen a mere 10 minutes ago? Was I talking to a second husband I don't know of? Was my tongue not just shoved up your wet cunt?”

 

Breathless and fixated by the intense blue gaze, Charles had no defense when Max's thumb slowly pressed into his panting mouth. He ran the digit along his canines softly before pressing down on his tongue. It went like a shock through his entire body, pulling a helpless noise from his chest. His husband retreated his thumb, seemingly satisfied by the noises. Charles’ body was burning up, wet and slick. He needed more.

 

“Is my husband in heat already so needy for my knot that he can't remember?”, Max said lowly, just mockingly enough that Charles blurted out more precum.

 

“You're not interested. Not really”, he whispered back because he could never leave well enough alone. 

 

His husband did not react immediately. Instead he kept his face blank as ever, slowly using his other hand to grasp onto Charles’ hand closest to him. He had to untangle it from the sheets. When had he gripped them? No matter, Max was currently guiding it towards his crotch. 

 

Charles watched breathlessly as his husband pressed their combined hands onto his own erection. He could feel him, hot and hard through the thin fabric of the pants. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted it so badly. He whimpered a little, flexing his fingers as much as Max would allow him, curling them around his shape. His alpha hummed, pleased.

 

“This feel like disinterest to you?” 

 

Charles searched his face after he struggled to rip his gaze away from their hands. Max was smirking lightly but the furrow between his eyebrows gave his seriousness away.

 

“Just the heat pheromones”, Charles answered.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Charles snatched his hand back, curling it around the wrist of Max's other hand, still a calming pressure on his sternum.

 

“Why won't you fuck me then?” It came out desperate, pleading, a wailing begging rather than the accusation he had planned. 

 

“I'm- I'm flabbergasted back here!”, Max replied, speaking too fast again. His eyebrows rose near his hairline, eyes wide and earnest. “I'm overwhelmed! Most beautiful man in the world presenting to me! I'm not even undressed yet!”

His unoccupied hand made indistinguishable gestures between their bodies.

 

It was so hard to be mad at him when he was such a clown.

 

“You are wearing too many clothes”, Charles said.

 

Max stilled, then started fussing with his clothes, haphazardly popping buttons on his shirt and wrestling out of his pants. He still took the time to put them on the chair at Charles’ desk. 

 

Fool, Charles thought fondly and watched him from his nest, spreading his legs a little more. He draped his hands along his lower belly, framing his red cock. When Max turnt back towards him, he batted his eyelashes at him.

 

“It is very rude to let your mate wait. I'm suffering heat pains and you're just watching”, he kept talking, his tone between conversational and whiny.

Max stopped fussing with his clothes, chucking the last item onto the floor, finally gloriously naked. Charles only meant to take a small peek at his cock but found his gaze stuck here, momentarily distracted from his little ploy. Good heavens, he needed that. Right now. His vision was snatched from him, but he forgave his husband as he finally shuffled onto the bed, coming closer.

 

“Charlie”, Max cooed softly. He crowded closer, kneeling beside Charles, eyes flitting up and down the naked expense of skin before settling on his face again. He put one hand to Charles’ cheek, cradling his face.

“That bad already? I didn't think it would progress that fast. I didn't mean to leave you to-”

Charles ignored his husband's sweet ramblings, pressing and prodding Max's side until he was close enough to be trapped between Charles’ thighs. His alpha's skin was cooler than his own, soothing the insistent heat. Max's orange and spices scent was everywhere, curling sweetly in his nose, mixing with Charles’ scent. Good. Good.

He used his legs to pull Max closer, his husband stubbornly refusing to budge. Was it really that hard to push that giant cock against Charles’ puffy aching cunt? This man, really…

 

“Soon I'll be facing heat cramps! Just because my alpha won't give me his knot”, Charles sighed miserably. 

 

“Charlie”, Max admonished.

 

“After all-”

 

“Stop already”, Max huffed and kissed him quiet. Charles moaned into it, immediately curling both hands into Max's hair.

 

“Really that bad already?” 

 

His husband sounded so concerned that he couldn't keep up his ruse any longer.

“No”, he sighed. “Your mouth made it better for a bit. But soon.”

 

Charles used his grip to push Max's face a little further away even though that was the last thing he wanted.

“I want your cock as quick as possible. I don’t wanna be all heat hazey, I'll be all fuzzy by the time you'll pop your knot.” He pouted up at his husband, relishing in the way his pink lips dropped open at his words. 

 “I wanna be there when you first fuck into me at least.” Heat hormones were making him even bolder than usual, but he wasn't even exaggerating. Soon his heat would make him go all spaced out and pliant. It was good and he trusted Max completely but he wanted to be fully concentrated at the first breach. He'd missed it, all of it, this and the things they did in the kitchen. 

 

“Good god”, Max groaned, eyes clenched shut, his whole body tensing. His cock twitched so hard the wet tip of it almost nudged against Charles’ pink folds. Charles gasped at the reaction, delighted. Seemed he finally got him.

He immediately tried to get more, more more more, trying to buck his hips up but Max's hands prevented him. But then the hands shifted, gliding towards the back of his thighs where Max lifted and suddenly Charles found himself almost folded in half.

 

“Hold yourself open for me”, Max instructed calmly.

Charles whined and hurried to clutch his own legs. He watched breathlessly as Max rubbed the head of his cock against his wet pussy, teasingly applying pressure but never enough to breach.

 

“Max!”, he scolded. Or tried as best as he could, his voice high and reedy.

 

“I'll come way too quick”, Max lamented quietly. His voice was high and embarrassed, like he seldom heard his husband in bed.

 

“That's literally what I want!” Charles couldn't believe this man. “C'mon alpha, fuck me.”

 

“Shit”, Max hissed, hips stuttering. And it was almost enough to press in but his husband has always prided himself on control and patience, at least in the bedroom. He stilled his hips, then stilled Charles’ wiggling hips too, one hand pressing him to the sheets. He used the other to once more rub just the tip along Charles’ cunt, the slick sound making Charles go slightly insane.

“Maaaax, I swear to- ah!”

Max had popped the head of his fat cock in. Charles convulsed with the feeling, cutting his complaint off effectively.

Max had the gall to laugh at him, satisfied at his little stunt. Charles studiously ignored how that sound made his cock drool against his belly. From there it was slow and deliberate, Max’s cock stretching him open bit by bit. It was heavenly. It was everything and more.

Charles could feel his heat-crazed brain settle, his alpha hard and heavy inside of his body. He sighed loudly, baring his neck and letting the orgasm rush through him. He wasn't even ashamed that this one thrust had been enough to push him over the edge once more, relishing in the feeling as his cock blurted cum onto his abdomen, his cunt slowly convulsing around his alpha's cock. Finally.

 

“Fuck, liefje, did you just-”, Max asked, wide eyed but had to cut himself off with a groan, the pleasure too much. Charles had opened his eyes at his husband's voice, purring loudly.

He didn't care for a break, immediately trying to push his husband deeper, to get him to move, to finally fuck him like he deserved. The settled feeling from a minute ago was still there but his heat wouldn't abide until he was satisfied. He needed to be knotted, he needed it to be by his mate.

Said mate seemed to finally get with the program, pulling out to push back in, dragging deliciously against Charles’ inner walls. Max rumbled back, his own noises mixing with the moans of Charles. Soon the tempo had picked up, Max's hesitation no match to the lust that was gripping both of them. Their bedroom was filled with the noise of skin on skin, the slick sound of his pussy being filled over and over echoing along the walls.

Charles was in heaven, moaning loudly. He kept digging his nails into his own thighs before Max grabbed his hands and led them above his head, circling both wrists with one hand.

Charles whined and trashed weakly against the hold, unwilling to break free but craving the pressure. Max had stilled momentarily inside of him and he bucked his hips desperately. God, just the feeling of Max’s fat cock and being held in position brought him close to orgasm again.

Max smiled down at him, before bending to claim his mouth with another hungry kiss. Charles keened, sucking on his tongue, mouth dropping open when Max's other hand grabbed his left thigh, bending it back and hooking it over his shoulder as he pounded into him again. It was incredible. Charles flexed his hands where they were still restrained. 

“Max, alpha”, he moaned. “Give me your knot! Need it! Please, alpha.” 

Max growled again, dropping his hand and instead grabbing onto both sides of his hips, physically lifting him off the mattress and pulling him back into his thrusts. Charles could feel his rhythm starting to get choppier, desperate. He curled his now free hands around Max's biceps, the muscles bulging with the weight they were moving.

He felt his orgasm creep up on him, inevitable and all consuming. It broke suddenly, Charles crying out and chanting his mate's name. He used all his concentration to remain present, unwilling to miss the moment his alpha followed him into the euphoria.

Max was moaning, panting loudly, hips punching, rutting, irregular heavy thrusts. His knot was almost fully swollen, catching with every thrust. Charles felt himself clench rhythmically, watching through bleary eyes as Max's eyes closed and his mouth dropped open. His hips stuttered, then ceased their movement and Charles purred contently, feeling himself being filled with his mate's cum. He grinded his hips softly, both of them groaning as the added stimulation made Max's shoot even more. Charles chuckled breathlessly.

Max collapsed into him slowly, breath panting against his neck as Charles gathered him close, hands possessively clutching at his shoulders. He could feel his knot, hot and heavy, just inside his entrance. It was good, so good, perfect. Their scents were indistinguishable at this point, his nest warm and comfortable, his mate a comfortable weight on his chest.

 Charles could feel the heat pheromones momentarily releasing their grip on his brain, allowing him a short window of clarity.

 

Max's breathing had returned to a more normal rhythm and he hummed against his collarbone, pressing a chaste kiss there before shyly looking up at Charles through his lashes.

“Sorry, I did not think far enough to put us in a better position”, he mumbled. He levered himself onto his elbows and gave him a sheepish look when the small jostle was enough to make Charles gasp, walls clenching around the knot. He didn't mind. He really didn't. Still, the opportunity to tease his mate was too good to pass up.

 

“Too excited?", he purred.

 

“Duh.”

 

“I like it like this.” Charles gave a little grind of his hips to prove his point, relishing in Max's reaction.

 

His mate leant back a little anyway, to try and arrange them better. Charles watched him, lids low but eyes bright, a quiet purr constantly emitting from his chest. Max stilled a little, blue gaze sitting on Charles’ abdomen. Ah, Charles thought, the stretch marks. 

 

Max's face was awfully neutral, or as neutral as it could be with his swollen red mouth and flushed cheeks. Charles could feel himself start to grow insecure again but decide against it. Enough. Max was here, he was well fucked and well cared for, his alpha was quite literally inside him, who cared about the stupid marks? 

Still, the feelings could not be ignored fully, instead tipping over into spite. 

“What, does it bother you?” 

“It's just-... I'm just-”

 

"Well?"

 

“Wanna bite the skin”, Max whispered quietly.

 

“What?”

 

“Really, really, really wanna bite and suck little bruises into the flesh there”, Max answered, still whispering. “Leave my own marks, more than the pregnancy even, fuck, it's from the pups we made.” He sounded in awe, eyes focused and bright, one hand softly pinching at the marks. Charles watched him suck his own lower lips into his mouth, brows furrowing.

Good. Very good. He could feel his brain starting to slide away from him again but another insecurity had been quelled. He purred at his mate, running two soft hands through his hair to get his beautiful blue eyes back on his again. Charles squeezed around Max's cock, the knot starting to go down, and watched with primal satisfaction as blue got swallowed by black once more.

“You're not even listening to me anymore, are you liefje?” Max sounded fond but that's all Charles could really tell right now. He could be speaking Dutch for all he knew. He was rather busy running his palms along the exquisite muscles of his alpha's shoulders and biceps, purring even louder when his mate subtly flexed for him. Yes, good.

 

Their next two days continued accordingly, Max feeding him little snacks throughout, bringing wet linens to gently clean him. By the third day it wasn't over but it was slowing down significantly. Charles’ physical needs remained present but his brain was less hazy, just full of adoration and warm mushy feelings.

They were both on their sides, faces turned towards each other. Charles was slowly rubbing his slightly cold feet along Max's calves, his alpha dutifully ignoring it. Now that his heat was starting to slow, his body temperature was dropping suddenly before going back up. Luckily he had a sturdy and steady heat source available.

Charles kissed Max's nose, grinning when he scrunched it. Max gave him a smile in return but it looked a little lackluster. Was he tired? Charles wouldn't hold it against him, any alpha would be exhausted after taking care of an omega without the help of a rut. But it seemed more than that. He softly combed a hand through Max's hair.

“What's wrong, mon amour?”

 

Max met his eyes for only a second, dropping his gaze instead to the minimal space between them.

 

“I just…”, he started hesitantly. “I just feel so guilty over the second pregnancy. It happened so quickly, before you were fully capable.” Max sounded brittle, small, guilty.

 

“Bullshit”, Charles immediately responded resolutely. “We asked the doctor and he said I'd be fine. It was not the timing, Max.”

 

“Just my seed then, great”, Max muttered, voice full of rocks and acid.

 

Charles retracted his hand from his hair, lightly slapping him on his bicep in reprimand. Max sighed, catching his hand and pressing it to his lips.

 

“Schatje”, he sighed again. “You don't understand, I- felt so guilty over the second pregnancy. Which I had no right to be, because I wasn't the one suffering but-” Max broke off, physically recoiling from Charles.

Hah! Nice try. Charles followed him, pressing closer and weaving his hand into the dark golden tresses again. He nodded at Max, encouraging him to keep talking.

“I think… I think my rut triggered because I found you too hot with our child”, Max continued quietly, slowly. He closed his eyes. “ “You were barely able to have sex yet and you come and help me through my rut and it was like a constant thorn in my mind but that rut was also, it was-”

 

“So insanely good”, Charles interrupted him confidently. “Some of the best sex we’ve ever had. And we're always good at it.” He smiled smugly, even when Max still had his eyes closed, turning his blushing face into the sheets.

 

“Triggered by your pregnancy and seeing you with our child. Our child! Charles, that's fucked up.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No. Sometimes I see you play with them, I get so horny my tits and pussy start aching.”

 

Charles waited for Max to face him again, steadfastly staring into his eyes.

 

“It's not weird, mon amour. I know exactly what you mean.” 

 

They held eye contact for a moment longer. Max relaxed with another sigh, turning to kiss above Charles’ pulse on his wrist.

 

“Thank you, liefje.”

 

“What else? I can tell there's more, Max.”

 

“Did you take the potion to not conceive?”

 

“Do you find me that hideous when pregnant?”, Charles simpered. It was a joke, truly, the past days had been very reassuring, but apparently it was still sore topic for Max.

 

“That's not- how can you even-”

 

“Max, it's okay, I didn't mean -”

 

“I'm just so scared.”

 

Charles swallowed his response, breath stuck halfway. What?

 

“Charles, I'm so fucking scared. I am... so amazed, so grateful for what you've done for me, for the children, birthing these wonderful beings into life for us, for me. Me, a father!” Max sounded breathless, frantic.

“Charles, they have my life, I'd lay down my life for them, no hesitation. I will work until the end of time in order to provide them with whatever they need. I will care for them, protect them, guide them but you-” 

Max’s voice broke, all choked up and Charles was speechless too, helpless as he watched his husband unravel. 

 

“Charles, you are my heart. Watching you almost die during the pregnancy. I could not do it again, please, schatje, you must believe me. I regret nothing and I desire you just as much, if not more than I've ever done before.”

Max crowded closer, encasing both of Charles’ hands in his own.

 

“Your body has- you made two living beings, Charles! In your body! And then, then you nurtured them and fed them and I can see the traces of it in your body. Their history, our history! I'm- “ Max actually choked on a small sob and he looked just as surprised as Charles felt. Max didn't cry. His husband didn't really cry, he knows he's seen with a few wet drops during Victor's birth but never again since then. He wasn't awake to see anything during Lorenza’s birth. Ah. Well. Perhaps he could see his mate's perspective better now.

 

“Max, my love, it's alright. We're okay. Everyone is okay. The kids are alright and safe. I am alright and safe. You provide so well for us, we are so spoiled. We can-”

Max was shaking his head violently.

“No, no, Charles don't you see. I'm a failure of a husband.”

“Max. “ Charles was truly astonished, confused, flabbergasted. Had his husband lost his mind during the heat?

 

“I hide away in my workshop all the time to flee the pressure and guilt. Everytime I interact with the kids I can't help but feel I'm failing them. I barely know how to live and here I am trying to guide a little being into their life. What if I do wrong by them? How would they ever forgive me? You? Myself? I've never had a good father myself, how would I know what to do!”

 

“Max”, he tried interrupting again but it was like a volcano eruption. He had to stand and watch his husband explode and implode.

 

“I can't even be a proper husband! Leaving you to suffer for so many months…running away, hiding and letting you down.”

 

“Max!” Charles sounded truly admonishing, scolding, and his husband sucked in a short breath and held it, big blue eyes wide and fearful. He was poised as if waiting for Charles to kick him out of his bed in his own house.

 

“You fool. My lovely, lovely, lovely fool. Max, I-” He was interrupted by his own laughter. He couldn't help it, too relieved that they were talking, naked and sweaty, enclosed by his nest. Charles pressed a wet kiss onto Max's stubbly cheek.

“I cannot wait to tell you, to prove to you how wrong you are. About everything.”

“Hey now”, his alpha mumbled, but his voice was still all muffled and phlegm heavy. They stayed that way for a long while, Charles intermittently pressing kisses onto Max's face and giggling at his silly mate. It lasted until Charles found himself shuffled onto his front, two strong hands grabbing and raising his hips. He gasped into the sheets, arching his back further, trying to back into his husband. Max folded himself over his back, kissing his nape and licking over their mating bite again.

 

“We have a lot to catch up on. Let me make it up to you.”

 

 

Notes:

And that's it, folks.

(Unless you'd still be interested in more. I have like [checks Google Docs] 3k words on Max's rut and another draft on some silly evening out.)

Lemme know.

Chapter 4: Rut Time Babey

Notes:

Hello. The tense and grammar in here is a mess. The timelines don't make any sense. Have fun.

Charles supposed he had been a bit too optimistic. As the train rattled along the track to take him back home to London, to Max, he thought about the letter folded into his hastily packed suitcase. He chewed his thumb nail abensently, brow furrowed.

At least he was alone in this part of the carriage, only after he had scared away a leering young alpha. The man had been young, perhaps even freshly presented, smiling broadly at Charles and cracking a stupid line about how such a pretty omega was traveling alone. Charles hadn't even bothered to stand up, simply fixing him with a hard glare and straight up growling at him. No polite giggle, no avoided eye contact, no nervous tucking of hair, trying to appease or ignore the brash alpha.

Immediate aggression was the answer here. Not always obviously. But it had worked quite well here, the inexperienced alpha stumbling back at such obvious displeasure from an omega. The beta couple that at that time had still been sitting in the same part had looked at Charles with wide eyes. He had turned his sweetest smile their way and tucked his shirt collar down a bit, the pale skin of his mating bite flashing. As if he was only allowed to reject the alpha because he was already mated…but if it got them off his back, he'd happily show off Max's bite.

The couple had smiled awkwardly, blushing and properly embarrassed about their nosiness. They had wished him a good day when they had departed at the next stop.

Whatever. None of this mattered as much as the contents of that letter.

He'd been optimistic, in a downright good mood before it had reached him. He had thought it cleared up, that…thing between Max and him.

He'd been off to Scotland with his brothers and the children for a bit, visiting a family friend on his mother's side. Max had still been in England, swamped in commissions. Charles had been happy to have cleared this before separating, feeling tired but also refreshed, done with his heat.

Then the letter from the maid reached him in Scotland. Max was to go into rut and has asked to be locked into his room for the duration. She was writing this letter in secret, because the house staff was worried and they saw no need for their master to return to his old ways of spending his rut miserable and secluded. She hoped she wasn't overstepping but felt that Charles as his mate and other master of the house was to be informed. Charles was gonna raise that girl's pay by… by whatever they could afford honestly! Twice, triple, quadruple, she deserved the world for all that Charles felt right now. 

He left the children with his brothers and their mates and maids, unhappy to leave them but knowing they'd be in good hands while he went to straighten his mate's head.

Victor, at almost two years old, had heard part of the conversation with his brothers it seemed. He was babbling constantly and often spoke short strings of words already. “Papa sick?”, he had said when Charles kissed him goodbye. Papa like Max would say it in Dutch, not the soft papa he used to adaddresCharles. Fuck, he felt so emotional everytime he thought about it.

Why would Max not tell him he was about to go into rut when Charles left for Scotland? Was it off schedule? He had lost track of his mate's usual rhythm, thrown awry as it had been during the pregnancies. 

 

 

 

 

 He arrives in a flurry, hastily thanking the maid that opened the door for him. She is the one that sent him the letter, anxiously avoiding his gaze. She's probably still afraid that she had overstepped.

Charles grabs whatever loose change he had in his coat pockets and insists on her taking it, thanking her again and instructing her to vacate the house as soon as she and the staff could after making sure that Charles and Max would have enough food and drink available.

She blushes and nods hurriedly, scurrying off towards the kitchen while Charles climbs the stairs two steps at a time.

He peers down the hallway, straining his ears but not really hearing anything past the downstairs noises and the usual creaking of a house.

Is Max okay? Asleep perhaps during one of the down phases of his rut? No matter, he'd check on his mate in a bit.

Charles quickly steps into his room, changing out of his traveling clothes and quickly freshening up. Having shared cabins with other people, there is no need to bring strangers’ scents to his mate's already sensitive nose. After checking again to see that he carries no one's else's scent but his own, Charles stares at himself in his mirror and tries to abandon the little thrill of excitement that runs through him when he imagines his alpha crowding him against the door, crazy with jealousy at smelling someone else on him.

The thought is gone as quickly as it came. He likes Max's possessiveness at all times, but there is no need to purposefully anger him when he's already in a frenzy from his rut. Max so quickly got ashamed of his hormone addled actions, no matter how often Charles reminded him that it happened to all alphas and omegas. No, Max should stand above it, of course. All Charles heard in those words was the jealousy of a father whose son had been a more powerful and successful alpha at age 18 than Jos had ever been and would ever be.  

Enough with the ghosts of the past, Charles chastises himself. He had a mate that needed taking care of. Stubborn fool.

Back in the hallway he finally catches a whiff of Max's heightened scent, it's enough to make his hands clench briefly with excitement. God, he smells so good, so good.

Charles comes to an unexpected stop when the door to Max's room won't open. It's locked. Right, just like the maid said. Locked from the outside, the elegant metal key is still in the lock, pointing towards Charles.

Sure, Max could go quite wild during his ruts, feral he used to say about himself with a sad smile…but never so bad as to be a danger to Charles or staff. Lots of bark, very little bite. And really only during the time before they had started courting or when Charles had not been able to be with him because of travels or family issues. That's why the staff had known what Max's strange request meant. Feral…as if.

Hormones are a mighty enemy to rational thinking, both to omegas and alphas during their heats and ruts. Max was no worse than anyone else, Charles could attest to that. In fact, he found no issue with Max in rut at all, his mate simply becoming a little more protective and possessive. But never in a way that frightened Charles, no he welcomed it, happily. Max however still got embarrassed, even after so many years in their relationship.      

Cursing Jos Verstappen once more under his breath, Charles turns the key in the lock and pushes up against the door.

Immediately his nose is assaulted by the concentrated musk of an alpha in rut. And how delicious his mate smells. Oranges, the air of a fresh autumn day and rich warm spices. Charles often jokes that the spices in their scents mix perfectly, a harmonious blend. He doesn't hesitate now either to release his own pheromones, or rather is shocked into losing control over his scent when his eyes land on the scene in front of him.

His mate is on his bed, sheets rumpled, one pillow on the floor. One arm is bent at the elbow, holding his torso slightly aloft while his hips are grinding into the mattress in a dirty rhythm.

No, not the mattress, his other hand is clutching something like a leather tube. There is a slick sound, barely audible over the muffled groans of the alpha.

One of his own works? It appears to be padded from inside, as far as Charles can see, can concentrate on it as he watches Max's fat cock disappear into the tube's depth.

A thought nibbles at the back of his mind: he can recall Max's hesitant voice when he had mentioned the toys he had provided for when he hadn't touched Charles after the pregnancy. Charles had ignored all of them, what did he need toys for when his mate was there? Had Max made them? The finely crafted, vaguely phallus shaped leather toys?

Oh.

Oh.

Visions flood his brain, of Max holed away in his workshop, painstakingly perfecting each object. And one for himself perhaps? Had he thought about Charles while working on them, had the thoughts gotten him so desperate he had needed something himself? He imagines Max at his workbench, hard and leaking. Fucking into his own hand, into the leather tube, Charles' name on his lips, bitten raw and red from trying to keep quiet.

God, the combination of Max's scent, the scene in front of him and his own imaginations are almost too much. The low grade heat that has been brewing in his belly since he'd arrived, turning molten and spreading further. 

"Max?", he whispers into the room. His mate freezes and turns within a fraction of a moment.

A piece of fabric falls from his lips. Ah, Charles thinks, that would explain why his noises have been muffled.

Ah, he thinks again a second later when he recognizes the piece as one of his own shirts. Had Max tried to smell him, to taste him through the fabric? Alphas didn't nest like omegas did but having objects of mates or partners was still a thing.

Why, Charles thought with an angry little pout, would his mate need a shirt though if he could have the real thing.

"Charlie", Max rasps in front of him and Charles blinks himself back to the present.

His mate is a vision, having crawled off the bed and standing closer now. Entirely naked except for an open shirt, his big chest is heaving with breaths, soft tummy smeared with semen. His cock is red and swollen, heavy with blood where it bobs between his strong thighs. Charles watches in fascination as he sees Max's dick twitch when his mate inhales his scent greedily.

"You're here", Max whispers, staring at him like he's a vision. That reminds him.

"Why didn't you call for me?", Charles responds, accusation and question woven into six words.

"Travel." 

Tsk.

"Bothersome”, Max gestures down his own body, “triviality."

TSK.

"Did you learn nothing? This triviality is quite important to me. I want to take care of you, as much as I want you to take care of me."

A numbness overcomes him with his next thought and his voice drops to a timid whisper where a second ago it was a scolding.

"Or did you really not want me with you for this? Did you lie to me? Do you not desire me anymore, not even during your rut? Was it just the heat?" 

Oh god. Oh god, please, no, Charles thinks despairingly. Had the last three weeks been nothing but a fluke? 

"Liefje", his stupid mate huffs now. He sounds caught between amusement and despair once more and Charles thinks absentmindedly that he's been putting his husband into this mood quite often lately.

Before he can accuse him further, Max takes two steps towards him and sinks onto his knees. Charles' breath catches as he stares down, blue eyes gazing up at him, their color almost completely eclipsed by red and black yet so familiar. His alpha is on his knees for him, before him, a gesture so submissive it throws his omega brain for a loop.

Max shuffles closer during his stunned silence and closes gentle fingers around Charles' naked ankles. He realizes with a start that he came here barefoot, his haste so bad he didn't even bother to put on socks, let alone shoes.

He stares, mesmerized, as Max licks across his own puffy lower lip, brows furrowed, evidently searching for words. His thumbs rub tiny circles into the skin of his ankles.

It must be hard, Charles thinks, so far into the rut. Max wasn't exactly the most verbal or coherent during his ruts, an ironic opposite to his often dirty mouth outside of it. He could see him frantically trying to string words together in that beautiful brain of his but the need and pain must be almost unbearable now. No matter how many knots he popped, his body would be unsatisfied without the soft wet heat of an omega to hold it. It is the noon of his second day in rut already, nothing but his own company to fight off the desperation. 

Well, Charles decides, it doesn't really matter right now, does it? Regardless of what the answers to his questions were, he would want to take care of Max.

"It's okay, mon ange", he says quietly and tries to ignore the pinch in his chest when Max closes his eyes at the pet name. "We'll talk about it once your mind is yours again."

Max, eyes still closed, leans into Charles’ hand when he brings it down to his face, cradling the warm curve of his jaw, the tiny pinpricks of stubble scratching his palm.

The alpha's hands glide from his ankles up to his thighs, pulling himself closer and resting his forehead against the jut of Charles' left hip bone through the material of the pants. Charles watches, barely breathing, feeling slick pool in his pants. Can Max smell him? He must. The thought rushes like lightning bolts up his spine. He refuses to be embarrassed by it.

Max is breathing deeply against him, his big nose digging into the soft fabric and flesh as he takes long inhales, Charles' hand still on his cheek. Charles softly imitates the prior touch to his own ankles, running a soothing circle with his thumb on his husband's cheek, getting ready to encourage him to get up and get to the bed.

Instead his touch seems to do the opposite.

Max suddenly inhales a short breath and backs up, shaking his head quickly as if clearing it, waking from a bad dream. 

"No", Max whispers as he backs up further.

"What? Max, what's wrong", Charles is so confused. What is happening? 

"No", Max repeats, still not making sense and widening the distance between their bodies. 

"Max", Charles scolds lightly and reaches towards him but let's his hand fall when his husband fucking dodges him. 

"We won't... I won't do this unless- you know", Max haltingly puts together, "We won't until you know that- you know it's not just heat, just rut."

He's keeping eye contact but is shuffling backwards. Max grabs the pillow from the floor as he gets up and awkwardly covers his erection with it, standing wide eyed and sweaty by the window. He's trembling like a leaf.

"Max", Charles sighs as his heart squeezes.

"Leave", Max answers and they both pretend they can't smell the way his scent changes. Pride, anger, devotion, hurt about not being believed and above all still the heavy arousal of rut.

"Leave", he growls when Charles doesn't move, still rooted to his spot from when he first stepped into the room. Max's knuckles are white where they're clenching the pillow.

What a fool.

What a fool, Charles thinks hotly as he whirls around and pushes the door open once more.

Notes:

Apologies for the abrupt end haha, I'm hoping that splitting it like this might force me to finish the last few paragraphs to end this scene correctly. Sry it leaves you on somewhat of a cliffhanger.
Pls feel free to motivate me by dropping a ♡

Chapter 5: One More Time

Notes:

Sry for all the typos and stuff. Cannot be bothered. It's either this or deleting the whole thing. (Lotte if you're reading this, I will delete my entire internet existence.)
Have fun, kids.

Leave", he growls when Charles doesn't move, still rooted to his spot from when he first stepped into the room. Max's knuckles are white where they're clenching the pillow. What a fool.

What a fool, Charles thinks hotly as he whirls around and pushes the door open once more.

What the hell is wrong with him? With his husband? His mate?

The scar on his neck is burning, his omega instincts going haywire at leaving his bonded mate to suffer through his rut alone now that he had seen, had smelled him.

God, had his heat really been nothing but a fever induced dream? Had he imagined all their conversations? Max's earnest blue eyes as he confessed all his insecurities about their marriage, all his perceived shortcomings and failings as a husband?

No. No, dammit, Max trusted him and his husband never ever lies. He knows that. God, it was one of his very best qualities, it was one of the reasons Charles had not hesitated to accept his courting gift four years ago.

He is halfway down the hallway when he stops abruptly and calls himself a fool this time. He's the fool right now, leaving his mate to suffer when Max has been nothing but true to his word so far.

Charlie had departed on his trip with the children and his brothers shortly after his heat was thru, no time really to test whether Max had only been there for the heat scent.

But he'd held Charles tightly the afternoon after his heat had ebbed and left, cleaning him tenderly and softly, only to rock into him once more in the evening, still in Charles' nest, both laying on their sides. One hand had helped propping Charles’ legs open, his lips attached to his neck, suckling softly on the mating bite scar. Then he had cleaned them both again, fed Charles little morsels of meals and had eventually fallen asleep on his chest, hands curled possessively around his hips.

And he had kissed him so tenderly when they had departed on their journey two days later. In the hallway, right in front of the children and his brothers. Max hadn't even protested when Charles had curled a hand into his shirt collar and pulled him in again, to suck his tongue into his mouth. He'd barely swallowed a moan when Max had nipped his lips, a gentle hand on his neck pulling him off his mouth and squeezing once, twice, to pull him back into his own body. Arthur had whistled, while Lorenzo had jokingly covered Victor's eyes with one hand. Not that the toddler had cared, both hands clinging to the stroller in which his baby sister slept soundly, rocked gently by Lorenzo's unoccupied hand. No, Max had only shown proper etiquette but Charles had been able to see clearly in his eyes: desire, love, amusement. No rejection, no lies. Whatever had made Max insecure about asking Charles for help with this rut, it wasn't lack of desire or lack of love.

Charles turns on the spot and marches back to the door. He hurries through, closes it behind him without looking, eyes fixed onto the magnificent sight of his naked husband.

 

“Charlie.” Max's voice is rough and choked, his brows furrowed.

He's completely flushed, pink and beautiful. There's no anger in his voice, only desperation.

Still, he stays where he is, fists clenched and fighting to keep his instinct in check, despite the clear pain Charles could see in his body.

His stupid fool. His brave little lion. His wonderful husband, his home, his Max, his mate, who cared not one bit about the gossipers that walked the streets and whispered about how weak Max must be to have his omega work, to let his omega work. A shame, no respect for traditions and proper etiquette. Bastards, bastards all of them, Charles thought.

Anyways, there were more appropriate times to get turned on by his husband's progressive views on omega rights.

"Come here, mon ange", he beckons as he starts to unbutton his shirt. He walks closer to the bed. 

"Charlie", Max whimpers again.

"Let me take care of you", Charles tries again and then has the wind knocked out of him when Max tackles him onto the mattress, cradling his body close, his feverish body settling as a familiar weight above Charles' own. 

"Need you", Max gasps into his ear, breathless with need. He strips Charles out of the opened shirt and Charles is pretty sure he hears some seams rip as Max fights his trousers. It does not matter, they can be sewn or replaced. Charles couldn't care less for them, but he knows that Max will be embarrassed about them later. Perhaps he can sneak them out later, anything to keep his foolish husband from acting like a kicked puppy. 

He happily opens his thighs, moving them to bracket his alpha's hips, waiting for Max to line up and breach him.

Oh, it is gonna feel so good, full and hot. Hmmm, it's been so long since he'd taken a knot outside of the haze of a heat. Sure, sometimes, in the time between their wedding and the birth of their children, Max had knotted him outside of heat or rut, but it had been so so so long. Charles is almost giddy with anticipation.

But instead of his mate's cock, he feels one of his hands fumble between them, shaking so badly it was like he almost had no control over them. 

"Max?" 

His husband doesn't look up, trembling fingers now softly but clumsily gliding through his wet folds.

"I don't need your fingers, cher, you can give me your cock. You want to knot me, don't you, mon ange?", he whispers into Max's wild hair, arms tenderly draped along his mate's heaving shoulders. He can feel the shudder rumble through Max's body at his words, yet his mate only shakes his head.

"No", he rasps, "first need to-" His sentence tapers into nothingness, all brain power still trying to make his shaking limbs cooperate.

Charles coos at him, clueless on how to get his alpha to take what he so obviously craves and needs. What is stopping him? He can feel Max hard and heavy pressed against his hip and he tries to tilt his pelvis, getting nowhere when Max's weight keeps him pinned. It makes his hands and feet tingle, feeling all cradled and protected, yet frustrated at not getting more friction, more touch, more cock.

"Slick", Max tries again, voice raw and breathless. "Must- slick enough", he haltingly strings together and it suddenly clicks in Charles mind.

He had warned his alpha that after the pregnancies his slick production had slowed a bit, that it might take a bit longer than it used to until he was ready to take him.

A wave of adoration and fondness threatens to overtake him, smiling helplessly at the ceiling and gasping when Max's fingers sweep across his pussy once more. There was no need to worry though, he'd been growing wetter and wetter since the moment he had caught sight of his mate's naked hips, grinding and fucking the toy.

It also felt as if the hormones by his first heat since tge last pregnancy had helped to even it out a bit more. Without prep the stretch is tight, maybe just on the side of painful but Charles honestly doesn't care. He'd rather suffer the short discomfort than to prolong his mate's pain.

He whispers as much into the side of Max's head and licks a broad stripe across his own mating mark on his alpha's neck, waiting until Max had finished moaning before encouraging him once more.

"Fuck me, Max. Give me your knot." 

It seems he has finally gotten through the thick skull of his mate. There is a last tentative touch to his pussy as if to make sure he really is wet, Charles almost choking on his own voice when two thick fingers invade him for just a second before he finally feels the blunt head of his alpha's cock nudged against his wet entrance.

He cannot tell who is louder of the two, once the first stroke presses into him. The stretch is tight, full, hot, his own cock straining towards his belly, where it sits above his pussy. He's pretty sure he's so hard himself that his cock is drooling precum onto both of their stomachs.

The pleasure is heady, overwhelming, he doesn't know what to feel first: the hot pressure of Max inside him or the warm friction of his upper belly along Charles ' dick where it is trapped between them everytime Max presses forward with his hips.

"I'm sorry, sorry, desolee, desolee" , he babbles into Charles' chest. The slightly mangled French makes Charles clench down hard on his dick, cursing at the pleasure rocking through him at Max's voice.

He can feel Max's wet breath against his skin, cradling his husband's head and shushing his apologetic nonsense. Max had nothing to apologize for.

Charles loosens one arm, instead snaking his hand down Max's sweat slick back, down to his pumping hips, squeezing one buttcheek and encouraging him to go faster, go deeper, to take, take, take.

Max's words start becoming incoherent and fade into nothing but growls and moans as his hips pick up speed, pistoning faster.

He's gone now, Charles knows. Words would barely reach him and he'd only stop if Charles showed signs of genuine pain, loudly demanding for him to stop or physically pushing him away.

He has no such plans right now, nor anywhere in his near future. Instead he wriggles closer and stretches his neck to the side, so that his husband can take the hint and close his teeth softly around the junction of his jaw, stimulating the scent glad there and sending a pulse of pure pleasure rippling through Charles' body. 

He hopes Max's hands will leave fingertip bruises on his waist and hips. He hopes his collarbone and shoulders will be covered in teeth marks and lovebites come tomorrow morning, tender and aching when he runs his own fingers over them. He hopes Max will blush as he always does when he sees them, kiss them gently and giggle softly when Charles chastises him for apologizing. The thought makes him stretch his neck further, opening up a bigger canvas for Max's hungry lips and teeth.

 

“You feel so good, Max, so good inside me”, he murmurs lovingly. Charles watches happily as the praise makes Max groan loudly, hips rutting forward with vigor. The thick of his cock is stretching his pussy so deliciously, the fat head of it pushing against his inner walls. The head of his own cock bumps and grinds steadily into the soft flesh of Max's belly, leaving a trail of sticky precum.

“Give it to me, mon ange”, he gasps as Max keeps hitting all the right points inside of him. “Don't you wanna give me your knot? Fill me with your cum?”

Charles blushes further at the words coming out of his own mouth. This is perhaps one of the weirdest things about Max's ruts, suddenly Charles is the only one babbling dirty thoughts. He can't help it though. He's not lying nor is he exaggerating, even if Max is barely coherent enough to understand him. He wants all of it, all of Max.

This is meant to be about Charles taking care of Max but at this point he's pretty sure he's just as desperate and needy. His nails are leaving crescent shapes in Max's shoulders, his mouth open with constant noises and pleas. Max's cock is pushing him closer and closer to climax, the pressure of his swelling knot a sweet promise of feeling entirely full.

His mate is still cradling him close, kissing and biting all over his torso, weight familiar and grounding above him, pressing him down into the mattress. His scent is heavy all around them, Charles feels completely surrounded in the best possible way. He needs to feel Max cum inside him. He needs it.

Charles pries his own hands from Max's broad shoulders and gently cradles his face again, encouraging Max to leave his hiding place against Charles' chest and make eye contact once more. The lust and adoration Charles finds in those sweet blue eyes is almost overwhelming, enough that he can feel himself tip over into orgasm but he doesn't want to go alone, wants to feel Max spill hot inside of him, wants to feel his knot swell and lock in place, keep him full.

“Max”, he gasps as he starts to tremble, his husband's face slack with pleasure as he stares at Charles adoringly.

“Max”, he tries again, fighting with all his might against his impending ogasm. Well, Charles had never been above fighting dirty. It is time to pull a fail proof trick to make his husband's eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Max”, Charles whines for the final time, making sure his husband is still looking at him when he pulls him even closer, clenching down on him and whimpering softly, “I love you. Oh God, Max, I love you.” 

It works like a charm.

Through the throes of his own bone shaking orgasm, Charles can feel Max's hips snap off rhythm, punching forwards deep and hard, pushing his knot up tight into Charles' pulsing pussy. He stays there, grinding deep and dirty as Charles feels his husband's cum filling him up even further.

Max is moaning and groaning, mouth pressed up exactly against the place of Charles’ mating bite scar. Charles is purring the entire time, hands sliding into Max's sweaty hair as his alpha keeps rutting softly. Their noises die down slowly.

Max is sweaty and sticky above him, still pinning him to the mattress. Charles scratches softly at his scalp and presses kisses into the sweaty hair as Max is still mouthing gently against his neck and shoulder, only interrupted by small noises. Charles feels almost a little obnoxious with the way he can feel his own satisfied scent enveloping them like a heavy cloud but he can't be bothered enough to stop.

Instead he focuses on squeezing around where he can still feel Max inside him, hot and wet and full, the base of his knot a numb pleasure against his entrance. It punches a pathetic little noise out of his alpha's throat, he can see Max's ears starting to go red and join the flush on his cheekbones. Charles hides his self satisfied smirk in the dirty blond hair.

"Liefje", Max rasps eventually and that's Charles’ sign that his mate is almost coherent again.

“Sorry, I'll take care of you in a moment, I promise.” Max's voice is hoarse, he sounds tired and sated, drowsy with lust and love.

Hah, Max hadn't realized that Charles had come with him, too lost in the ecstasy of a rut knot.

“I've already come, you lovely fool”, Charles laughs at him, his laughter rising again at Max's wide eyed look. He presses a kiss to Max's big nose.

“Look at us, stuck in this position again”, Charles teases him, softly shimmying his hips before the stimulation makes both of them moan again. Max chuckles at their antics, red face pressing into Charles’ chest once more.

They stay cuddled up just like that, until eventually Max's knot has gone down enough for him to pull out slowly. Charles hisses and hums at the feeling, both hating and loving it. Hating it because now he was left feeling empty.

Secretly loving it because he could feel Max's cum slowly dripping out of himself, his husband watching intently from where he kneels between his thighs.

When Charles tries to kick him softly in mock reprimand, Max simply catches his foot, pressing a wet kiss to his ankle before leading his leg down again, resting against Max's hip, where it belonged.

He watches for another few moments before reluctantly moving his gaze to Charles’ face instead. Charles is waiting for him, lips stretched into a wry smirk, eyebrow lifted. Max blushes. Then grins again, ducking his head and shaking it. The alpha presses another kiss to Charles’ ankle and then scoots off the bed. Charles whines petulantly at the loss of skin contact.

“Don't pout”, Max laughs, “I'm gonna get some food for us.”

Charles stops his whining, too busy suppressing his smile at Max's alpha posing. Oh, off to go find food, provid, provide mate good mate. 

He watches Max's naked backside happily but interrupts before Max can reach the door.

 

“Put some clothes on!”

 

Max freezes, flashing him a look over his shoulder. Charles watches him look down his own body, watches his shoulders go all tense again.

 

“Don't like the view?”

 

Charles scoffs.

 

“No one gets to see you naked but me!”

 

“Oh…okay.” His back is still turned but Charles can hear the smile in his voice. He watches as Max turns in circles trying to locate easy clothes, crowing triumphantly at a morning robe he's worn maybe twice in his life. Charles mourns the loss of nakedness silently. 

Their effort is for naught however. When the Max opens the door, a food tray is set down in the hallways, along with a pitcher of water or maybe lemonade? Charles can’t tell from his comfy place.

The maid? The cook? Any house staff? Perhaps he should feel ashamed that they had somewhat witnessed this romp but instead he only felt smug. Max's expressions suggested similar feelings.

 

They eat in comfortable silence. Max is still to spacey to be interested in conversation, Charles is happy about the peace. He needs Max out of the room for a bit though… Well, that should be easy enough:

 

“More tiramisu? Please, mon amour.”

He batted his eyes twice. Of course Max went.

The moment he's sure, Max is far enough to not hear every noise, Charles rolls off the bed and tiptoes over to his pants. They're halfway across the room, crumpled on the floor. As he suspected, there was a rip in them now, Max's need too great to bother with delicacy for clothing. Charles really really really doesn't give a fuck. He takes it over to the laundry chute, one ear perked to listen to Max’s noises. There. Now he could get those mended before Max could feel bad about them again.

 

On the way back to bed his bare foot hits something on the mattress when he climbs back on. It rolls a measly few centimeters on the sheets then stills. Charles stares at the leather tube, the material looking supple and rich. A little shiny from- Oh damn. He picks it up tentatively and taps a fingertip to the opening of the tube.

 

It should be gross but Max is all hopped up on rut pheromones and so is Charles, so no it's not gross to him at all. The scent of Max is intense on the material, when he pushes two fingers in experimentally a slight squelching sounds. He realizes with a start that it really is still sticky with the remnants of Max's cum.

The moan slips from his mouth unbidden and he bites his lip at the sudden flash of blood hot arousal pulsing through him. His eyes flash to the door.

He can't hear Max on the stairs yet. Maybe he could- just one try. Just to see what it would feel like. His hands fumble the leather tube into position clumsily. The tip of his erect dick kisses the inner cushioning of the tube softly and it's almost too much already. Charles can feel more of Max's cum trickle out of him while his own dick pushes into the tube also slick with Max's cum. His hips punch forward helplessly, his silence breaking, everything too intense. Intense and not enough because Max isn't here.

It all smelled like Max, he smelt like Max, traces of Max were still in him and now on his cock and yet and yet.

Charles whines pathetically, wrenching the tube away from his throbbing cock. The pressure is good but too loose, the sizing of the tube meant for an alpha's cock, his alpha's cock. Maybe he-

Charles hears Max in the hallway and quickly hides the tube under the pillow case, in easy reach. He had possible plans for this gadget. 

 

Hurrying into position, Charles bites his lip in anticipation. When Max pushes the door fully open, Charles is on all fours again, ass up and presenting. Laughing at Max almost dropping the tray with food again. He rolls over and levers himself up onto the elbows, blinking at Max down his nose, eyes green and coquette. His alpha huffs and puts the tray down near the bed.

Charles can see that his rut is starting to take hold again but it is already the second day and his knot had been buried comfortably in Charles just minutes ago so they probably had already made it past the worst of it. He pretends really hard not to be a little disappointed by that.

Max drops down next to him, greedy hands settling onto bare skin.

“You're so mean to me sometimes”, he pouts but breaks into a smile at the end anyways.

“Aww, poor alpha”, Charles laughs back at him but leans in to press an apologetic peck to his nose.

When he starts backing up, Max’s long fingers bury in his hair and pull him back in, lips meeting lips. Max keeps him there for as long as he pleases, languidly pushing his tongue into Charles’ mouth, tracing teeth and gums and tongue.

Charles feels himself going lightheaded with the lack of oxygen, too into it to bother with breathing through his nose. He still whines when Max eventually lets up. Max flashes him a grin, his teeth white and perfectly straight and sharp. His eyes soft and crinkled.

“Drink something. Have a bite”, Max says now, like Charles isn't still catching his breath. The alpha reaches for the tray, places his spoils near them on the mattress before picking Charles up and placing him sideways upon his lap. There's the duvet between their naked crotches and that's really fucking stupid, Charles thinks. He can still feel Max's cock all hard through it. He wiggles a little more than necessary and accepts the plate Max is shoving at him.

"Thank you. But you need to eat too”, he says.

Max grumbles but takes a random assortment of nuts and berries, only starting to chew on them once Charles does too. They don't speak, Max's eyes bright and feverish where they're watching Charles.

"Good enough?”, Charles asks, then pushes his mostly finished plate back onto the tray and then promptly discards that next to the bed again. Max doesn't protest, hands sliding along Charles’ naked legs.

 

“Hmmm, need you at full strength and health”, the alpha mumbles absentmindedly. He noses at Charles’ hair, already crowding closer again. Charles can see his cock against his thigh where the blanket has moved, fully erect, tip shiny with precum and half dried cum.

“Need you happy and slick.”

Charles purrs and presses his own kisses to the scar on Max's neck again. Max sounds dazed and needy and Charles is ready to care for him.

“Need to fuck you, need to b-”

 He stops abruptly and Charles pulls his face close again, looks into his favorite blue eyes again, glassy and clouded with lust.

“I took the concoction again so that I can't receive, Max.”

Max's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, gaze flicking momentarily between Charles' own eyes.

“You need to fuck me, mon ange? Need to breed me?”

Max whimpers at his words, pushing forwards into Charles' body blindly, their chests bumping and sliding together. Max's hands start scrabbling for their usual grip on his waist, getting ready to shove him into position but Charles has other plans.

A little revenge so to say. For his husband not telling him about the rut, for trying to not inconvenience him.

He twists them so that Max lands on his back, Charles straddling his thighs. Max doesn't mind the position, compliant as long his hands can stay at their favorite positions. Charles leans forward to bite at Max's plush lips, distracting him sufficiently to sneak his hand under the pillow and grab hold of the leather tube.

He sits up again, stomach swooping as Max chases after his lips, eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched. His blue eyes snap open, when he feels the first touch of the tube to his dick. Max makes a confused noise, gaze searching Charles face quizzically.

Charles feels almost a little sorry already, he meant to relieve his mate from the pain but now instead he's teasing him. He gazes at Max's thick cock, distracted enough to forget about his qualms. It's thick and dark with blood, massive, the knot at his base a constant slight bulge during rut. It sits snugly near the nest of dark curls and Charles resists the sudden urge to scoot down and bury his nose there.

Instead he focuses on the task at hand, watching breathlessly as he guides Max's straining dick into the toy. Max makes a low noise, hips rutting up momentarily, slightly hindered by Charles’ weight. Charles thinks about how his own dick had been in there not even fifteen minutes ago. It makes his head spin. He wonders how long he can tease Max like this until he loses control.

How long until Max unclenches his fingers from the bed sheets and pushes him over, just like Charles wants him to. Max is watching him intensely, brows furrowed. There's a little growl starting to vibrate through his chest and Charles’ gaze momentarily gets stuck on his mate's luscious chest.

God, the pair of tits on that man.

His little slip in attention is enough and he yelps when Max gives one last powerful thrust of his hips, burrowing his cock deep into the toy and dislodging Charles from his prime seat.

Charles thinks he hears the leather tube roll off the bed and onto the floor but he can't be sure, face down on the mattress. Max has him pinned, one broad warm hand on his nape, the other coaxing his hips up until he has Charles presenting again. Charles pants happily into the pillow, gathering his arms near him and stabilizing himself but making no move to push his upper body up. Face down, ass up was exactly where he meant to end up.

Max laughs softly behind him, fond and a little disbelieving, realizing that Charles had played him like a fiddle. There's no hesitation as Max lines up to his pussy and pushes in to the hilt immediately.

He sets up a quick rhythm from the get go and for a moment Charles tries to figure out whether this pleasure is real or whether he's just already coming again. Either way, he's having a great time.

Max hitches him so high he can't even rock back on his own, Max holding him completely, moving him as he wanted. Charles could only take it, moans punching out of him at every other thrust.

He turns his face sideways, breath heaving. His eyes fall onto the discarded toy. He's a little like that tube right now, isn't he? A pretty little thing for Max to use, to fuck and fill.

The thought makes his eyes roll back and he convulses with the sudden force of his orgasm.

Charles can hear Max rumble happily, triumphantly, but his hips keep snapping. Deep, hard thrusts, burying himself inside his pussy as deep as he could. One hand abandons its post on his waist and slings around Charles’ cock instead, pumping softly, prolonging his orgasm endlessly.

And Charles is screaming or cursing or proclaiming his love for Max or praying or maybe all four, feeling good and used and adored and this close to passing out from ecstasy. 

He might actually have gone absent for some moments, the next thing he's aware of, Max and him are on their sides, knot swollen in his pussy and pumping, Max hitching his hips softly and slowly, breath heavy in his ear.

Charles curls his arm back languidly, scratching his hand through Max's sweat soaked hair, purring his satisfaction. Max ceases his movement eventually, pulling Charles flush against his front and burrowing his big nose into his damp curls.

 

“Max?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why didn't you tell me your rut was coming up. I would have postponed the Scotland trip for another three days or four.”

 

“Wasn't sure if you wanted me-”

 

Charles can't help himself. He scoffs.

 

Max makes a sound like a kicked puppy, hands spasming nervously against Charles’ belly.

 

“Max…”

 

There is more silence. Charles squeezes one of Max's hands in his own.

 

“I was…suddenly unsure if you wanted me outside of heat? Because you only spoke up for… for the heat. Not before that.”

 

“And after our conversation about my insecurities you figured you'd just… say nothing? Very impressive, monsieur.”

 

Max huffs behind him and Charles thinks he can hear a bit of a chuckle in there.

 

“I don't look the way I used to look”, Max murmurs into his neck.

 

“You think I courted you for your looks?”

 

It's the wrong thing to say. 

He can feel Max try and recoil but he can't because his knot is still keeping them together.

 

Charles curses under his breath, happy that Max can't flee, unhappy that he can't look at him as he talks.

“That's not how I meant that! You know that.”

 

“….”

 

“Max, don't you know? I did not court, mate and marry you only for your looks, mon amour. You're so much more than your body”, Charles pauses. “But I'm also not gonna lie and say your looks didn't help with the decision. You looked very dashing in your uniform.”

 

“I look different now”, Max answers, but Charles can still hear the happy rumble in his voice.

 

“You think?” Charles frowns because sure he looked different now but so did Charles, yeah?

And nothing had really changed all that much in his eyes. He loved Max's full hair, strands golden in the light, dark with sweat, combed back neatly or puffed wild after sleep. His regal nose, turning slightly red whenever he blushed, the same sweet color as the skin on his cheek bones. His plush lips with that goddamn freckle. That freckle had been the bane of Charles' existence, right before they had started their courting period. Every little conversation they had, Charles had been fighting a losing battle trying to not stare at the way the freckle moved along with Max's explanations and smiles.

It had been so bad at one point that he had barely been able to actually hold the conversation, Max starting to talk to him less and less because the alpha thought that his attention had been unwanted, that Charles' lack of response had been rejection, rather than the omega having been stunned into speechlessness.

It only got better once Charles realized he was just as obsessed with Max's eyes, their color and those endlessly long bottom lashes. He stared at those now instead of the freckle, so he could listen. His face was so animated when he spoke, Charles watching every scrunch with the attention of someone witnessing a miracle. And that was only his face! Don't get him started on the rest of his mate.

All arms and chest and belly and thighs. God, the thighs. The chest. The love handles. The biceps and shoulders. Never really had tight abs, even while at his leanest that was Charles’ thing and that was just fine with him. He presses further back into Max, purring loudly when it makes his cock twitch inside him.

He happily relays his thoughts on Max's physique to his mate. He thinks he can feel Max's face blushing again where it's pressed somewhere near his shoulder.

“Nothing about physical attraction has changed for me, Max. You were hot when we were young, no doubt but now it's even better. Hot and you look like you can provide and protect and shelter, so strong, so sturdy”, Charles gushes, careful to keep his amusement at bay so Max doesn't think he's kidding.

He's not. He means every word but he's also so smitten with Max's hidden greed for praise.

“Oh”, Max mutters behind him, “Hmmmm.”

Charles bets the smile on his alpha's face is all lovestruck and sickly sweet. He will just check again later, when he tells Max all of this again and again and again and again and again and again and…

 

 

Notes:

Thank you for reading this heap of 🌽 :)

Pls feel free to drop me some kudos or a comment!

I originally wanted to make this more like a series, yk? One work for the intro, one for the heat, one for the rut and then maybe new small works everytime I felt like coming back to these two hot messes. But then all you lovely people subscribed and I didn't want you to miss out on the updates haha So now I'm thinking, should I just add a new chapter here whenever (if) I write more or should I make it a small series??? Idk.