Work Text:
Rovan had a rut, that alone changed the whole dynamic—and the coil burns hot in Bervin’s abdomen when his mind wandered back to 5 months ago, when Rovan asked for help from the swollen tent propping at his crotch. Naively, Bervin agreed, and he was late to work for two hours spent sitting on his partner’s knot—whimpering as he realized the knot did not die down, but swell more. Months passed, yet Bervin trembled involuntarily when his mind recalled the burns and how he passed out due to the knot filling him up to the core, pressing in his G-spot when Rovan shifts just a bit.
It was a hellish experience, one that took Bervin’s body so long to recover. Though Rovan treated him well, he still wants to talk about it, but too shy as his brain bombs him with the helplessness whenever he decides to speak up—leaving Rovan dumbfounded with whatever shit he did.
They said it’s normal for a rut to last long and painful—but Bervin didn't expect another rut to come so soon, not when he’d read articles and they said canines only experience rut every 6 months. One expectation is ‘mates’, perhaps after that incident, Rovan had seen him as one—but Bervin is simply a boyfriend, not a mate.
His spine still remembers the knot, the stretch, so of course Bervin made a run from it; or at least, tried to. From working overtime to taking 3-days trips, everything to stay away from Rovan and his rut.
But eventually, after dozens of missed calls and ‘come back’ texts—Bervin realized he couldn't handle his partner’s suffering through his rut. More specifically, couldn't handle the horny messages that kept popping up when Bervin’s in the most serious meeting of his life—knowing replying would make Rovan more desperate and needy.
That’s how Bervin gave in and returned back, excusing himself as ‘ditching his own work streak’ to seem normal to coworkers. Also that’s why Bervin ended up lying face down on the bed with his ass up in the air, and Rovan pounding his dick in and out like Bervin’s a sex doll.
Damn right that clingy and needy facade was a trick, yet Bervin still gave in—and ended up in this embarrassing position. He’d never arch his back at all cost, let alone baring out his ass for his partner to fuck, good god.
They’ve been going at it for hours, so much that Bervin had no energy to keep his body up, his back arching into an impossible curve—needy for sex, it seems, though in fact he’s begging Rovan for mercy. He hates how Rovan was handling him like a feather, huge hands were all over Bervin’s hip to keep him up—arched up and needy whenever Rovan’s dick slid in and grind against that spot, abusing it over and over.
“T-too much.. ahn..” What escaped wasn’t even audible, Bervin’s voice turns raspy and weak, the coil burns hot whenever Rovan pressed in—resulting in that whiny tip that followed; bitchy, needy, all at once.
He drooled all over the pillow, hands bunched in the sheets, trying to crawl away—in vain. Rovan’s grips on his hip tightened in warning, rough hands pressed into skin, enough to leave behind marks, streaks.
“Mm.. No running away, baby..” Rovan moaned, dazedly cooing, hips moving in rhythm—pulling out the fluids, the sound of cum shifted inside him, wet ‘squelch’ following them every thrust, echoing in the room. He loves how sex-drunk Bervin is, so high that he doesn't know if he’s refusing, or pleading for more.
Doesn't matter, Rovan knew the answer anyway, how Bervin’s hip moved on its own, slamming back whenever Rovan stills—for someone who always complains about back pain, this surely is a good exercise, right Bervin?
“You’ll hate me for this, baby,” Rovan croons, hands settling on his partner’s hips again—quickening his pace without much warning, pounding, snapping into that abused hole, surprising the weak Bervin underneath him.
“Oh.. aHn—UHG—!! No— Ro—van! hNG—MMH!! AH—!! AHh—Sl-SLOW!!” Bervin moaned, voice breaking, hands gripped onto the bedsheets for his dear life when he felt the familiar heat in his hole as Rovan thrusted into him—the same one he felt at exactly 6 months ago, when sitting on Rovan’s knot, with him cooing praises and whispering apologies at the same time.
He couldn't clench any more, the sensitive little spot inside being abused over and over again, the heat scared him, yet turned him on at the same time—a kink, Bervin guessed, drowning in pleasure.
Rovan felt him tremble, that man sure did—and grinned as the result. Bervin’s moans got more messed up, more needy, his thighs shook worse, uncontrollable. Eyes rolled back, felt sour as of the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, pain. Bervin came for the fourth time that night, unable to speak, babbling whenever he orgasms.
He despises himself for still wanting more despite his body already going past its limits, despite the fact that they should stop—prioritizing his health over Rovan’s knot.
But he didn’t say anything. Fetish? Yeah.
“Vin— Vinnie” Rovan gasped, chuckling when he felt his partner writhes beneath him, hating the name so much that his body physically recoils, trembling at the mention of it. “I’m ‘bout to cum, baby..” A warning, for once, saying ‘baby’ like he’s putting a bandage over Bervin’s fragile ego.
“Knotting you too.” He leaned down, pressed a kiss onto his partner’s back, lips settling on the sweat-covered skin, lovingly.
And under him, Bervin shook his head with all his might, a hard refusal considering how late Rovan was to warn him. “D-don’t! Can’t w—walk after! AH— WHY are you g-going faster?! you—!! MNGh—!!” He cried out, mind already spiraling about the aftermath—about the sore hips, the sickness that sometimes followed because his body misfired—all because of this dumbass who couldn’t control his rut.
Rovan kept himself up by holding onto the headboard, hips moving on their own, pulling out only to slam back in all at once, grunting when the tip of his cock touched the warm inner part of Bervin’s hole—his sputtering , pumping inside the hot seed that Bervin had been pleading Rovan not to.
He should’ve pulled out, Bervin thought—until he felt his partner’s grasps on his hip tightened again, kneading the soft flesh of his ass, as if admiring the shape. To which, Bervin’s too embarrassed to think of, instead buried his face into the pillow and breathed heavily, whining when the tight ring was stretched out again to fit the knot.
His vision blurred, a satisfied, sleepy little ‘oh’ left him once Rovan slotted in the knot, and even pumped in more cum into the tight hole with a single thrust—emptying his balls, that well.
“Hmn..” Rovan hummed, giggling in satisfaction as sleepiness claimed him, too. “Good husband.” He cooed, just because he knew Bervin would pass out soon, body already gone past its limits.
‘Rovan I will beat the shit outta you once I wake up.’ Bervin thought in his mind, but his mouth wouldn't comply—his consciousness blurred, and he’s drooling on the pillow, sleep claiming him just seconds later.
He would still beat Rovan though.