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Darrow didn't really think much of it when he was paired with an Omega to dorm with. Despite Darrow being an Alpha, he wasn't bothered. Even if it's Cassius Bellona, who, along with being great company and someone Darrow was very comfortable around, is also maybe the most handsome man to walk the earth, and what’s even worse is that he knows it.
But Darrow is cool, he isn't the type of Alpha to think every Omega in his vicinity belonged to him. His best friend Sevro is an Omega — he thinks, actually, he isn't really sure because he goes into heat but apparently sometimes he goes into rut — and there's never been an issue in that relationship. His study partner and close friend Virginia is also an Omega, and he’d scented her going into heat a couple times, but it never bothered him, or her.
So Darrow could be chill. Darrow could be woke, even. He was very capable of being friends with Omegas, he wasn’t like those ultra-hyper-masculine Alphas, it just wasn’t in his nature.
It was, for some reason, hard to be chill about Cassius, though.
When Cassius goes into heat, it’s nothing like Sevro’s or Virginia’s. Darrow could smell Cassius’s heat on him before even Cassius himself could. Every couple of months Darrow would simply tell him he’s going into heat, and Cassius would laugh and say something along the lines of, “How do you always know before my tracking app does?”
And Darrow wanted to break Alpha stereotypes as much as possible, but he got weird about Cassius’s heats. Darrow got protective. He would grab things for him he didn't ask for. He’d bring him food and would watch carefully to make sure he actually ate it. All to satisfy his instinctual urges of PROTECT AND PROVIDE AND CARE FOR YOUR MATE blaring in his brain, even though Cassius wasn't actually his mate.
Darrow couldn't be his mate. Just not possible. Not in the cards for him.
And there’s lots of reasons, he’s figured out.
At first, he felt it was insecurity or something. He’s not insecure about Cassius’s beauty in the sense that he’s jealous and wishes he looked like him, it was more about how Cassius’s standards must have been so high, higher than what Darrow could ever achieve. He didn’t think himself beautiful, that was the difference between them.
Except Cassius didn't shy away from talking about his heat partners with Darrow, and they were all fucking meatheads. Mostly a bunch of random dudes from frats that Cassius couldn't join, due to his status as an Omega. He remembers Cassius telling a story where one of them left him the moment he came, no aftercare or anything. Darrow wishes Cassius would have just come back to their dorm, he could have called Darrow, but instead he stayed there suffering. They didn't treat him right. Not like Darrow would treat him. Darrow would give Cassius what he deserves and he knows that.
So it’s not really about looks at all. But the real problem came with trying to imagine himself in their place.
He couldn't stand to do it with no emotional ties. He couldn't do it and then go back to being best friends and roommates. He feels too strongly for Cassius to become just a knot to use every few months. Nobody is that desperate. Maybe. He’s hardly sure he could stop himself from telling him he loves him when he’s on top of him, mounting him, fuck, inside him—
“Darrow.”
“Huh?”
“You're spacing out again.” It's Virginia. Darrow had completely forgotten he was in the library with her. In public.
“Sorry.”
“No, I get it,” Virginia says, taking off her reading glasses and rubbing between her eyes. “We’ve been studying for a while. It's starting to give me a headache.”
“Want to call it a day?” Darrow asks. Virginia nods. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”
“It’s cold, you don't have to.”
“That’s fine.”
It’s cold as shit, she wasn't lying. Virginia’s breath is visible in the air, but she seems less bothered by the weather than Darrow is. His building is closer than hers, so Virginia stops and refuses to let Darrow continue with her and stay out in the cold longer than he needs to.
“Tell Cassius I said hello,” she says. Darrow nods. “The three of us should really meet up again some time.”
“No way, you guys are just gonna argue the whole time like usual,” Darrow says lightheartedly. “Maybe soon. I think he’s gonna, you know, soon, so after that, maybe.”
Virginia rolls her eyes. “You know?”
“Yeah, I mean— yeah, you know.”
“Go into heat? I’m an Omega too, Darrow, I know what that is.” Darrow blushes. “So I assume I won't be seeing you either, then?”
“Huh?”
“Since you’ll be gone to help with his, as you put it, you know.”
“Wh— No? No, no, it's. No. It’s not like that.” Despite the cold, Darrow is sweating. “What? Why would you even think… no, no, yeah no.”
“...It isn't?”
What could have given her that impression? Darrow doesn't, like. He isn't that obvious, he doesn't think. And Cassius definitely doesn't— he doesn't feel that way. At all.
“No! Did you think we were—”
“You're not mates?”
“Roommates, Virginia. That’s all.”
“Oh.” She seems genuinely surprised. Then she bursts into a fit of laughter. Before she can say anything else to further humiliate him, Darrow has already gone inside.
—
That familiar scent assaults his senses the moment Darrow walks into the dorm. Sweet, citrusy, fresh, maybe a hint of vanilla. It was so uniquely Cassius. Despite how long they’ve lived together, he still never gets over just how good the smell is.
So he was right. Cassius is going into heat again.
Cassius is unbothered, sitting at his desk, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts despite how cold it is outside and inside. “You're home,” he says with a sweetness in his voice. Darrow liked that he saw their dorm as home.
“Hi,” he says. “You're going into heat.”
Cassius cocks his head like a confused puppy. “I am?”
“Yeah. I smell it. And it's about that time for you. It’s been a few months since your last one.”
He makes a frustrated noise between a whine and a groan. “Ugh. Shit. Why now? Fuck.”
“You want me to order us some food? I’ll buy.”
Cassius smiles. “Such a gentleman.”
“It’s more common sense, you should be eating good for your heat,” Darrow says. It's the least he could do for his Omega.
Well.
Not his Omega.
But. You know. There's nothing wrong with wanting to provide for an Omega, as an Alpha. Even if they're not your mate. And Cassius isn’t Darrow’s mate.
Cassius probably didn’t even see Darrow as an Alpha. Which Darrow doesn’t mind at all, he prefers it, actually, he thinks being defined by your secondary gender is stupid and all that. But it’s more like— like he doesn’t see Darrow as an option for him, and he just wishes he knew why.
After they’ve eaten, they sit in silence on Cassius’s bed that smells like Cassius and Darrow is also sitting next to Cassius who, like, really smells like Cassius because he’s Cassius.
They're watching an episode of a TV show they’ve been getting through together for the past few weeks and Darrow can't pay attention to it at all. But it must be bad because Cassius is complaining the whole time. Though, from his scent, Darrow can tell Cassius really is content. Comfortable. Well fed and happy. Because of Darrow.
He tried to not think too far into it.
Especially because once they've finished the episode, Cassius is texting someone and Darrow knows why.
—
The next day Cassius is gone.
Darrow is chill about it. He’s cool. Normal.
He expected he’d be gone. He said he would be gone. Of course he wouldn’t stay here for his heat. He never does. Because Darrow is not an option for him.
So Darrow will be normal.
Virginia already called off their study session today, saying she was sick. So they couldn’t hang out. But that’s fine. She’s been working too hard, she deserves a break, anyway. He could always call Sevro, maybe. But he’s even better than Virginia at recognizing when something’s wrong with Darrow, and he doesn’t want to explain it right now. Or when’s the last time he asked Roque to hang out… no, now is a bad time. And Victra is Victra. Scary.
And Cassius is gone.
Darrow feels aimless in a way he hasn’t before.
It’s fine. He shouldn’t be too reliant on others to distract him. He doesn’t need to do that at all, actually. He can distract himself perfectly fine on his own. Distract himself from what, even? Nothing is wrong.
It doesn’t even really bother Darrow that he doesn’t know this guy’s name or what he looked like or anything. That doesn’t worry him. At all. It’s not his business, even. He doesn’t have a right to know who Cassius is fucking, it’s not mandated by law, so why should it even really worry him?
Well. If it was really worrying him that much, he could just message him, maybe, just to check in.
No. What? Why the fuck would he do that? Hey buddy, how’s the dick? That’s so stupid. Darrow is stupid.
Why is he even still thinking about this shit anyway? Darrow said he’ll be normal. So he’ll be normal.
He won’t wait at the door for him. He won’t be disappointed about eating alone. He won’t stare longingly at Cassius’s empty bed.
Well.
He doesn’t have to stare longingly at Cassius’s bed if he lies in it.
It’s not like Cassius would mind. Even if he was here to see him do it.
And it’s not like it’s anything weird. They sit in it together all the time. So it’s not really that different if he spends some time in it alone.
It's not weird.
But.
Fuck.
It smells like him. The fuzzy blanket he uses is so soft and potent with his scent. It’s fresh and clean from a recent wash but his scent overpowers whatever detergent he was using. And his pillows smell a bit of his sweat and shampoo. It almost feels like he’s still there. Like he never left.
Being surrounded by the reminder of Cassius is not helping Darrow forget that every moment that he is out with that random guy is kind of like torture. Like he’d rather go through a maze of razor wire than feel whatever he’s feeling right now. Somewhere, wherever the fuck, Cassius is getting fucked into the mattress of someone Darrow doesn't even know, who definitely doesn't love and appreciate Cassius as much as he deserves, and it's cold out and he doesn't know if he has eaten enough or if he’s hydrated or really, truly taken care of.
Darrow’s hand slips between him and the mattress and he presses his palm against his cock. He applies just enough pressure. Doesn’t really touch himself. Because getting hard like this from smelling Cassius’s bedsheets is already crazy, but, like, actually getting off on it would be way too far.
Maybe, just, maybe he can rock his hips into his palm, a little bit. Just a little. And then that’s it. Nothing more.
Okay.
Maybe a little more. Just a little. Fuck. He can’t help it. He can’t. He melts into his own touch a bit too easily for his dignity. It’s just so good. So fucking good. Feels like Cassius is underneath him. Where he should be. He should be here. He should— fuck, he should be taking Darrow’s dick just like this, right here in his bed, in their room, in their, home, fuck, God it would feel so good, so much better than this, fuck, fuck fuck fuck—
Darrow’s phone vibrates.
Someone’s texting him.
For a second, he’s torn between finishing himself off and checking the message. But his choice is easily made when he thinks that it could be Cassius trying to contact him. So he practically lunges out of Cassius’s bed to get to his phone.
And thank God he did.
Cassius: darrow
Alarms go off in his head.
Darrow: You okay?
Cassius: this guy sucks and i don't wanna be here
In an instant, Darrow feels completely vindicated in his anger and jealousy, and then is overwhelmed with the worry he’s been fighting off this whole time.
Darrow: I’ll pick you up. Where are you?
Cassius: cslled an uber already
Cassius: omw home
Home. Cassius is coming home.
Darrow: I’ll be here.
Darrow: I’m sorry.
Darrow: Do you need anything?
Cassius: need you
Cassius sent a photo.
Cassius: wjsh it was u
In an instant, all of Darrow’s breath is knocked out of his body when he sees the photo.
It had to have been a mistake. Cassius had to have sent this to the wrong person. He wasn’t supposed to see this. He was never meant to see a high definition photo of Cassius looking up into the camera with lidded eyes, his hair a curly mess, and his lips wet and parted to fit a cock into his mouth.
—
Twenty minutes later, Cassius is back. He closes the door behind him and stands awkwardly at the entrance as Darrow, sitting in his desk chair, phone still in hand, stares a hole into him. Cassius doesn’t even make eye contact with him.
Darrow feels like he’s barely had time to process the photo. Meaning he’s also barely had time to understand that his lack of response probably registered as rejection to poor Cassius, who looks so dejected.
He has no idea. Not even the slightest of one.
“Look, I—” Cassius starts, “I don’t— when I go into heat I sometimes just go— like, I say stuff I don’t—”
“Stop,” Darrow says sternly. Cassius nearly jumps. He looks so afraid of what Darrow will say. Like a kid that knows he’s in trouble. As if Darrow has discovered a secret that he deserves to be scolded and punished for.
Darrow sucks in a long, deep breath before he speaks again. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“I am asking,” Darrow says, standing up from his desk, “if you meant it. Did you mean what you said? You wished it was me?”
Cassius is speechless. Darrow just waits. He knows he must be coming off strong but he really doesn’t care. He definitely feels pretty strongly.
“Darrow—”
“Please do not lie to me.”
“Yes,” Cassius finally admits. “I meant it. I just. I don’t know. I didn’t think you—”
“You didn’t think I wanted it?”
“Darrow, I—”
“You thought I wasn't fucking agonizing knowing you were off with some random guy?” Darrow crowds Cassius unintentionally. But he’s so tired and confused that he doesn't even sound angry. Just disappointed. “Guys who can’t smell your heat on you days before you can? Guys who don't really know what you want? You thought I wouldn't have done anything to take their places?”
“No, I didn’t know that. How— how even would I have known? You never even— You’ve never shown any interest in me, Darrow.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Like, fuck, I don’t know! You like, you do things for me and it feels really good but it feels different cause you’re not, like, trying to fuck me after you do them and it’s just so confusing. Like I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel when you treat me better than any of the other stupid Alphas I go to for a heat and then afterwards it’s like, ‘awesome, Cassius, love having you as my best friend’. So.”
“You never asked,” Darrow says.
“Yeah, cause I can't do it casually,” Cassius blurts. “I thought maybe you’d be fine with helping, I guess. I don’t know. But it’s like, how could I ask that of you when I can’t do it and not be emotional about it? I can't let you fuck me and then go back to normal after. I can do that with those guys because they mean fuck all to me. Not with you. Anyone but you.”
Darrow’s heart hurts listening to him. It’s like listening back to a recording of his own words.
Cassius looks close to crying. And Darrow scolds himself. He thought Darrow would use him. Just like his other partners. He thought he would give him the same treatment that Darrow’s been agonizing about because he knows it’s not what precious, beautiful Cassius would deserve.
He would never. Ever.
He closes in on Cassius, whose back is now pressed into the door. All this time and neither of them did anything because they were both too scared of the same thing. “Why would I want to be casual with you?”
“What?” Cassius says, in disbelief.
“I wouldn't want to go back to normal either,” Darrow says, so close that he’s overwhelmingly intoxicated with his scent. “Why would I? With someone like you… you're so beautiful and you really, genuinely get me and I love every moment we spend together. I can’t not love someone like that. I thought you would be the one who wanted casual.”
“You love me?”
Shit. “I— I don't—"
“You are… ha, you’re always so romantic. So loving. You always have been with me.” Cassius laughs and Darrow's face and ears burn because he isn't wrong. Yet this whole time they’ve both been avoiding it, dancing around it, in a stupid game neither of them seemed to realize they had been playing. “And you didn’t even think that maybe I loved it? You’re so oblivious sometimes.”
“I’m not—” Darrow’s demeanor hardens when he realizes that Cassius has baited him so close that they're standing there, with open mouths so close to each other that he can feel his breath on his lips. “I’m not oblivious. You are.”
“You are,” Cassius whispers, “because you’re two inches away from an Omega in heat who wants you so bad, and you still haven't even kissed me yet.”
Darrow closes the space between the two of them and draws their lips together, after so long, so much time wasted, and God it’s so much. It feels like an untuned part of Darrow’s brain that's only been playing radio static has finally had the knob turned to the right place. His hands go to his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders. Fuck, he’s perfect, and soft, and he’s in Darrow’s hands now. He’s almost disappointed when Cassius pulls away.
“Shit, you mean I could have had you this entire time…?” He sounds like he wants to laugh, but it’s not funny. He’s still in heat and it must hurt. “The whole time?”
“Cassius.”
“All of them I wished were you. I couldn't get through my heats if I wasn't pretending it was you.”
“Cassius, please.”
“If I got your knot, I would be ruined forever. I wouldn't be able to think about anyone else's.”
“Fuck—” Darrow hardens at that. Cassius must feel it because he reaches down to touch his cock through his sweatpants. “Yeah. Fuck, okay. Jesus.”
Cassius’s knuckles run against his erection and Darrow shudders. “I need this inside me right now or I’m gonna die."
Understood. Hint taken. He never would have believed Cassius would talk to him like this. Oh, God, his dick has never been so hard. Cassius is kissing him again, with hunger and fervor like he’s trying to actually eat his face, and leads him further into the room towards Darrow’s bed.
Darrow breaks away from his lips and goes to his neck, grazing his teeth on his skin and listening to the shudder that he gets from Cassius. “Take off your clothes,” he says, and Cassius is quick to obey.
He hadn’t not seen him naked before. They’ve been living in the same room for almost a year. They change in front of each other sometimes. No big deal. But this was different. This was Cassius pumping out the most potent of his scent his body could handle, naked and already on his stomach and waiting and ready to be fucked.
All for Darrow.
His eyes trail Cassius's muscular back down to his stupid perfect ass, and catch a glimpse of slick leaking from his hole. Shit. He’s so wet it’s already coating his inner thighs, skin glistening with his own arousal. It’s something out of a dream. This can’t be real.
Darrow drops his sweatpants as quickly as possible, then joins Cassius on the bed. He kisses Cassius’s shoulder, then his back, then the little dimples at his waist, and then. Oh. He can't resist tasting him. Fuck, he can't. He squeezes Cassius’s soft, round ass and laps at the slick, and the noise Cassius makes is going to haunt Darrow forever.
He slides his hand between Cassius’s legs and two of his fingers slip in so easily that it makes him feel dizzy. A primal part of his brain activates and thinks of how that guy might have touched this, his Cassius, and he struggles to fight back that jealous urge to find whoever he was and rip his fucking throat out.
“Tell me what happened tonight,” Darrow says, as calmly as possible, thrusting his fingers inside Cassius’s hole slowly.
“He— I don't know. I was acting weird and he could tell, fuck, Jesus, Darrow, oh my God.” Cassius looks over his shoulder and moans when Darrow twists his fingers and hooks into him like a fish caught from a river. “I think he could, ah, tell I was thinking of someone else.”
Oh, God, that definitely does something to Darrow. “Did he make you cum?” he asks, not tearing his eyes off the way Cassius tightens around his fingers.
“No, he didn’t… ah, fuck. I just sucked him off. He, uh, didn’t even touch me at all.”
Darrow goes to pull his fingers out, then shoves them back in again, reveling in the noise he earned from Cassius. “I will,” he says. He was fucking determined, now. This won’t ever happen to Cassius again. He won’t even think of going to anyone else, especially not someone that would send his perfect Cassius Bellona home while he’s in heat. Darrow will make sure of it.
“Don't tease,” Cassius whines, trying to squirm off of or maybe further onto Darrow’s fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Darrow whispers. “You’ll get it, I promise. On your back.”
Cassius obeys and turns over, looking flushed and needy and hornier than maybe anyone has ever been, all for Darrow, hair splayed out on the mattress and pupils fat with what feels like pure love.
Realistically, it’s a side effect of the ecstatic high from his heat.
But. It feels more romantic than it probably should.
“Do you need anything?” Darrow asks.
“Your kno—”
“Other than my knot.”
Cassius pauses. “Mm. No. Just need you. Please.” He says it like he’s asking for a favor and not the world.
“Condom?”
His head nods towards the bedside table. Darrow reaches to grab one, and the whole time Cassius is reaching for him, putting his hands on whatever he can touch, waiting and presenting himself with his legs up for Darrow to fuck him.
It seems they have both decided that Darrow’s made him wait long enough.
He pushes Cassius’s legs up further and slots their hips together. He looks down at his cock, lined up with Cassius’s hole, and it just feels so unreal that it's actually happening and it's not just another fantasy, and fuck he isn't given much more time to think because he slips in so fucking easily, like Cassius’s body is pulling him in by the dick, and he’s so fucking tight and wet and searing hot and he moans and sighs so beautifully when Darrow is inside him. Their foreheads press together and Darrow tries to steady his breath, cause he knows he won't last long at this rate, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t savor this moment.
Darrow searches Cassius’s face — his cheeks are still so red, eyebrows are tilted upwards, and it looks like his eyes are struggling to stay open. “Still okay?” Darrow asks, to which Cassius only responds with a frantic nod.
Finally, Darrow gives a tentative thrust, and Cassius’s eyes flutter and fucking roll back into his head like in some porno. It looks like all of Cassius’s muscles have relaxed, for the first time since his heat began, or maybe ever, and Darrow swells with emotion deep in his chest at the thought that Cassius really does trust him, maybe more than anyone else with this.
Darrow will be sure that Cassius doesn't regret his trust in his pleasure and safety, and secures it by fucking him steadier, a bit faster, a bit harder, enough to where Darrow can feel Cassius’s slick against his balls. Cassius’s hands go to grab Darrow’s waist, encouraging him further, and he’s moaning and whining like he’s lost control of his voice. “Fuck, that’s good, Darrow, fuck, where have you been this whole time?”
“Do you think he could have fucked you like this?” Darrow literally snarls, like a goddamned animal, and he didn't even know he could do that.
“N-No, he couldn't… nobody could, nobody, just you, fuck, oh my God, you're so deep—” Suddenly, Cassius is tapping his hands where they sit on Darrow’s waist. “S-Stop, stop stop stop, wait, ah, shit…”
Darrow slows to a stop. “Are you—”
“Yes. Just one second. Let me see it,” Cassius says, hand making a grabbing motion — he wants Darrow to pull out, so he does.
Cassius reaches for Darrow’s cock, pawing at it until he can grab the condom between his fingers. He makes a show of slowly pulling it off with a loud snapping sound, and disposing of it next to him. “I need you. All of you.”
It might be the hottest thing that will ever happen to Darrow in his entire life.
“Oh my God,” Darrow whispers. “You— you’re sure?”
“Implant,” is all Cassius says. “Don't need it. Want you raw.”
“But I just— like, you're really sure?”
“Yes, I am very sure, Darrow,” Cassius says, rolling his eyes. “Uh, I always imagined that it would be like this. So that’s how I want it.”
Meaning this whole time Cassius has not just been thinking about Darrow, but also about him taking him raw. God, he is such a stupid idiot. “Fuck. Fuck, Cassius.”
“Yes. Fuck me.”
Cassius’s hole is even warmer without the condom, and not having that layer of protection between him and Cassius is making Darrow feel fucking lightheaded. Cassius’s hands move rapidly from wherever on Darrow’s body he can reach, and then his own body, and then the space next to his head, like his arms can't decide where they are going to go. So Darrow grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers, and now it really feels romantic, especially when Cassius squeezes it and maintains eye contact with him as long as possible, looking at him like his dick will save him.
It is all so much and Darrow will literally never be the same again.
“You ever let them fuck you raw?” Darrow asks.
“No, no, never…”
“But you let me?”
“You're, ah, fuck, you're not them, Darrow, you're different…” Cassius’s eyes flutter again and his thighs start to shake. Darrow knows what it means before he says it. “Oh, fuck, you're gonna make me—”
And he does, holy fuck he does, Cassius is coming on Darrow untouched, dripping cum onto his belly, his wet hole fluttering on Darrow’s cock, it's a genuine miracle Darrow doesn't lose it and cum inside of him immediately. Cassius is so fucking loud too, not even trying to hide the filthy and obscene moans being ripped from him. Darrow didn't think he’d be so vocal and mouthy…
When Cassius comes back down to reality, Darrow is waiting, still inside and not moving, petting Cassius so gently to soothe him. But Cassius seems dissatisfied still, and must decide to take matters into his own hands as he starts to fuck himself onto Darrow, nearly causing him to double over and die right there.
“Hey, slow down,” Darrow urges, worried he’s going to overstimulate himself, but Cassius shakes his head.
“No, need more,” Cassius slurs, audibly a jumbled mess, “still need your— ah, please, Darrow, I can handle it, I can take it, don't stop, keep fucking me please…”
And the way he says please… Darrow thinks he won't ever recover from it.
He pushes past his concern, trusting that Cassius would stop him if it really became too much, and grabbed his waist to keep fucking him. He hasn't quieted himself and he hopes he never will. He doesn't care if someone hears or if they’ll get a complaint, fuck that, all Darrow cares about is Cassius, who is spread out on his back for him and needs him.
Darrow’s hips jostle Cassius with every movement, his muscular chest moving, like a girl’s tits, what the fuck, and he knows that he must be so sensitive but Cassius allows Darrow to make a complete mess of him. He’s not just allowing but enjoying it, smiling at the way Darrow’s balls smack against him, saying nothing but an incoherent mess of oh yes and just like that and fuck yeah.
“Cassius,” Darrow moans into his neck, overtaken by it all, feeling pressure build in him as his knot starts to inflate. “I can't, I can't— I’m so close—”
“Fucking cum in me,” Cassius whines, “knot me, please, fill me up, make me take it, Darrow, I need it, knock me up, I want you to put a baby in me so fucking bad—”
That’s all it takes for Darrow to shove himself all the way in, his knot breaching Cassius and tying them together, and Darrow comes so hard he thinks he’s going to fucking pass out. There’s no coherent or rational thought in his head, just breed breed breed mate mate mate like he’s no more than a rabid dog. It’s enough to make Cassius cum a second time, clenching around Darrow so he really can’t pull out, not that he would ever want to. He thinks he could spend the rest of his life with his knot stuck in Cassius, making sure he takes, keeping his cum where it belongs…
They stay like that until Darrow can move again. His knot begins to deflate and soften so he pulls out slowly, even though Cassius lets out a spoiled whine. Darrow watches his cum leak out, mixed with Cassius’s slick and both of their sweat… It feels like he lost a fucking gallon of fluid today.
After a reassuring kiss, Darrow pulls back. “That was irresponsible,” he says.
“Relax, dude, you won't actually get me pregnant, and you liked it,” Cassius says, trying to chase up to get a few more kisses from him. He smiles a bit. “You’d be a good dad, though.”
“You— Shut up.” Darrow mock-hits him in the shoulder. “We, we haven't even, like, put a label on it, Cass, and you're already talking about kids.”
Cassius blushes. “I told you that you're different.”
“My knot is not so good that it's future defining.”
“Okay, well, it kind of fucking is, thank you. Because I don’t want anyone else’s.” Cassius buries his face into Darrow’s chest. “I think you severely underestimate how long I’ve been wanting this.”
Darrow sniffs in Cassius’s scent and realizes that his own has intermingled with it. He smells distinctly like sex with Darrow. The primal part of his brain thinks about how he wants to mark him with his scent forever, so that anyone could smell Darrow on him and know exactly who he belongs to.
“How long?” Darrow asks. “How long have you been wanting this?”
“Too long,” Cassius says with a laugh. “Like, the day we met. But I thought you had turned me down. You weren't responding to any of my signals! And I didn't wanna fuck anything up further so I never brought it up.”
“You were giving me signals?”
“Yeah, and I have no fucking idea how you didn't pick up on them.”
Darrow scolds himself internally. “Maybe you’re right. I am completely oblivious.”
Even now, when Cassius kisses him, cuddles into his chest and hums a low, satisfied purr into his skin, nothing feels real. Darrow never thought he could have this, that he could have Cassius. Someone who really gets him. Someone that he knows will want to eat dinner together and watch another episode of whatever shitty TV show they’ve moved on to. He doesn't really know how to let himself have something he wants this much, now that the hand has been dealt to him.
But for Cassius, and for his own sake, he will learn.