Chapter Text
The Furbos, after the disastrous first impression, quickly started to grow on him.
The little guys became an important part of his days as soon as he took up the mantle of becoming the new president of the publishing company. The slacking and yapping aside, they are actually pretty diligent!
He's really enjoying his time as president. Who wouldn't? You have cute little furballs trailing you, people who praise your name (or well, the racoon) and an absolute 10/10 eye candy, who lives next door.
Can he even count it as ‘next door’? That's basically a closet, if he's being honest.
Anyways, all in all, he's enjoying his time!
It's because he's in a good mood that he decides to treat all the furbos to dinner tonight. They just finished wrapping up publishing a super successful scoop, they deserve it!
The little guys whoop and cheer, continuing to work with new-found motivation, determined to finish work early today. Their enthusiasm also infects Caelus and he also returns to work.
It is just nearing the end of the workday when he starts feeling sick and a little queasy. It starts off small enough that Caelus shrugs it off, chalking it up to the effects of staring into a computer screen for so long.
The furbos seem to notice, however. The job has turned them way too perceptive.
"Boss?" Paraprince asks, "are you okay?"
Caelus sighs, rubbing his forehead, feeling it to be a little hotter than normal. "I'm fine. You guys go ahead to dinner…”
The little furbo looks conflicted, “dinner can wait! Do you want some medicine? I can run real fast and get some!”
“No no, it's fine,” Caelus chuckles at their concern. “I'm just feeling a little under the weather. Probably a little sleep-deprived. Why don't you guys take the company card for now? I'll take care of the expenses later.”
The furbos look at each other.
Furblix perks up, “if the boss wants, I can absolutely stay behind and keep him company! I have collected tons of stories in the last few days so I can guarantee that you won't feel bored at all! After all, boredom and stagnation are the enemies of creativity, right? We can't let our president lose all his creativity just when the company has managed to pick up! Right, boss? Now where do I start? Oh! There's this one little cat imaginae that has been sighted in the alleys of Duomension City and Doverbook District that is said to be a master thei—”
“I'm fine!!!” Caelus quickly shuts them up before Furblix starts yapping away. Not them, anyone but them. The furbo’s a nice fellow but he cannot handle that much talking when he's already nursing a headache.
“Guys, listen. Just enjoy yourselves tonight. I'll go home after resting for a while, alright?” He gives them a reassuring smile.
The furbos look at each other before finally relenting. "Oookay! If that's what you say!” Paraprince says before waddling out the door with the others in tow. “Text me if there's anything you need though, alright?”
Caelus nods, holding a thumbs-up before they leave, shutting the door behind them.
The empty room of the publishing house is a little... Eerie? He doesn't remember the room ever seeing this empty. The furbos are always here, day or night.
The emptiness makes the room a little cooler, a welcome feeling against his heated skin but that doesn't help a lot. Along with a headache and nausea, Caelus is starting to feel hot. Is he coming down with a fever?
The room is getting way too hot, way too quickly until he's breathing heavily and having trouble sitting upright. Ugh, this is such a pain. Caelus doesn't think he can go home long like this. Maybe he could just stay the night here? Will the furbos mind? He sure hopes not.
He groans, feeling a dull ache in his back and legs, as he gets up to move to the couch. Also, why the hell is the ac not working? It was working just fine a few moments ago! But now he can't feel anything even if he stands directly in front of it.
Should he call the mechanic? But he really doesn't feel like talking right now, throat feeling parched no matter how much water he's gulping down. He just wants to go to sleep and not wake up for a long, long time…
Hell, if he could crawl into the AC and sleep, he would!
Huh.
Wait a minute.
What other place could I sleep in, which is just as cool as AC, if not cooler?
His gaze, a little shaky, moves towards the little door at the corner of the room. If Caelus' memory serves him right, Ashveil and Narrator should be out for the week on some sort of detective business? Or was it a convention? Whatever. Doesn't matter.
Surely, Ashveil wouldn't mind if Caelus uses his fridge bed for a while, right? That guy's behind on rent anyways and the fridge racks up quite the bill. At this point, he's basically the one paying for the damn thing!
He gets up from the couch, shedding off his jacket and gloves and walks on wobbly feet and walks towards the little office.
Ashveil was ready to flop down and never wake up.
Don't get him wrong, the convention was a blast. He got to collect many new comics from his favorite author and get a lot of signed copies.
But he also ended up getting dragged in two disputes over the signed copies, three disputes over cutting in line and one about a love triangle? Don't ask him, he's not too sure how that happened either
He's way too tired to think about it anyway. He's also hungry but lost his purse on the way back to a cat imaginae who ran off with it. Not that the purse had any money to begin.
He walks into the (suspiciously) quiet office and finds it completely empty. Huh. That's weird.
For one, usually at least a couple furbos are always here and two, why is the door unlocked? Well, it's rarely locked at all but that's because it's rarely ever empty like this!!
Did they go to celebrate something? It does smell faintly sweet in the office. Maybe they cut some cake and had a birthday party? Damn, now he's hungry.
Whatever, food can wait. He needs to sleep first. Narrator has yet to come back, probably out to look for the stolen purse, despite him insisting that it's okay.
He whistles, walking towards his office. The sweet smell seems to get stronger and stronger. Oh? Did they save him a slice?
Inside the room, the smell is stronger than ever and... Okay why is he lying to himself, this is not how a cake smells like. He's old enough to know the difference between food and pheromones but goddamn it why is the air so thick with it?!?
He loosens his collar, trying to ignore the thick smell of warm honey and cinnamon entering his system with each breath. A low pressure forms in his belly, something akin to hunger as he tries to shake the feeling off of him. This is too late into the night to be dealing with this. Maybe his fridge will keep the smell of pheromones out if he shuts it hard enough.
Ashveil has been a detective for many years.
When you know the true cost of a mistake in such a profession, you become hyper vigilant. You cannot afford to make mistakes, knowing that the lives of other people depend on it. The point is: Ashveil doesn't make mistakes. Most of the time, of course. He's only human.
He doesn't know what happened to him tonight that caused him to make so many mistakes in a row. It could be the hunger and the fatigue, or the down after a high of a really good day. Or it could be the delectable sweet scent that subconsciously lured his Alpha into a false sense of security. A lot of factors were at play, he supposes.
His first mistake was opening that fridge door.
As soon as he does, the air shifts with the force of the Bullet Wyrm Express, turning thick like syrup. The surroundings turn viscous, like his drowning sugar-sweet molasses. The tendrils of warm honey seep down his throat and into his lungs, replacing all the air until he's choking up on the smell.
Even as his vision swims, he cannot help but zone in on the sight— an absolute feast—layed out in front of him.
Caelus sleeps in his fridge, only in his white undershirt that rides up and exposes his stomach. The planes of his abdomen rise and fall rapidly, breathing hard as his skin is flushed in a bright pink. His golden eyes are half open, glassed over with unshed tears. He's oozing pheromones, no doubt going into heat.
The boy he's had his eyes on for a while, intrigued by his complete lack of smell, despite himself possessing the sharp senses of a wolf. The curiosity for his smell had quickly turned into a curiosity about the boy in his entirety. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't wonder about the boy's scent once in a while.
That curiosity is now sated and his wolf is humming in content but he cannot say he completely shares the sentiment. He screams at his own body, thinking about getting out the damn door but his feet remain planted in place. Like a godforsaken pup, he can't even win a fucking battle with his wolf.
His second mistake was not getting out the door before the boy noticed him.
“Ash…veil…?” Caelus murmurs, immediately trying to sit up with a groan. Ashveil instinctively leans forward to support the boy before he hits his head on the edge of the fridge. Shit. Bad move. The smell is even stronger now, it makes his head spin a little.
“You're back…?” his posture slumps against Ashveil's hands, like a kitten going boneless, leaning into the touch with blown out pupils.
“Yeah…” Ashveil grits out, pointedly ignoring the burning itch in his teeth and gums, desperate to sink into the soft, exposed flesh of the omega's neck. “And may I ask what you're doing here, landlord?”
“‘twas too hot,” he slurs out, head lolling to the side in exhaustion. Ashveil rips his eyes away from the tantalizing patch of skin before him, the itch in his teeth intensifying. "I thought' sleep’in the fridge’ll help…” the omega looks at him, noticing Ashveil's head turned away.
A sudden cry rings out in the omega's chest, instincts running wild against will and turning his head into mush. His thoughts run a mile a minute, reaching conclusions that he wouldn't dare consider even in his most drunken state.
“Are you mad…? Caelus' voice is weak, meek in a way that contradicts every single thing he's come to know about the boy in the last few days of sharing the same space.
Apparently the sheer absurdity of the situation and the constant assault of the sickeningly sweet smell was more than enough to turn his years of learned vocabulary into static ringing in his ears. All Ashveil could to was gape are him with wide eyes.
His third mistake was not answering Caelus right away.
The omega's eyes water at being denied an answer, immediately turning to comfort the alpha that he perceived to be upset. Caelus jumps forward, wrapping his arms around Ashveil's neck, nuzzling into his cheek and trying to douse him in more of his sweet pheromones. “'m sorry, don' be mad…”
It takes everything in him not to stake his claim on the fruit dangling centimetres away from him. He could only place his hands on the omega's waist, and not think about how it fits perfectly— Oh no, no no no, he does not think about that.
Oh aeons, what has he done to deserve this?!
Caelus, unbeknownst to the internal battle the alpha is fighting, happily purrs away into the crook of his neck, pulling back only a little to rub his cheek against Ashveil's. “Don' be mad at omega, hm?”
“I'm not—” Ashveil squeezes his eyes shut at the headache building up from the overwhelming scent of honey and cinnamon. “I'm not mad.”
His fourth mistake was answering Caelus at all.
“You're not?!” The omega pulls away so quickly, it almost gives Ashveil whiplash, making him snap his eyes open to pull him closer by the waits so he doesn't fall back. Caelus pays no mind to that, or he doesn't notice at all.
He just smiles at Ashveil. The most beautiful of blushes bloom on his face like the petals of sakura. His eyes glisten with tears, but no signs of sadness are on his face. It just makes his eyes brighter, like millions of stars swimming in liquid gold, blinding him with the sheer radiance they emit.
“Yay!” He giggles.
The alpha's heart stutters in his chest.
No, Ashveil, get a hold of yourself!!! This omega is a fucking child compared to him. There’s no way their age difference is healthy in any way. He can't be lusting after this… this pup. He needs to back away, put the omega to sleep and get the fuck out. There should be a few tranquilizers left from the last mission, right? Maybe he could even find a few suppressants if he just—
The omega keens as he falls forward, snapping Ashveil out of his thoughts as he scrambles to catch him. The blush on his cheek and neck deepens, turning from the soft pink of sakura blossoms to that of dark, ripened cherries.
Cherries dipped in honey? That suddenly sounds much more appetizing than ever.
“Hot,” Caelus whines, pawing at the alpha's back to bring him closer as he squirms in his grip. “‘sso hot I'm— I can’t—”
“Shh,” the alpha tries to soothe him, letting out his own pheromones of fresh ink and ash. He rubs his back, sending any other thought to the back of his mind and focusing on the vulnerable omega in his arms. “It's okay, you're fine.”
“It hurts…” he whimpers, skin turning hotter by the second with the heat coming back in full. “Please, I'm—” a moan cuts him off, stomach cramping up against a devastating emptiness. Why is he so empty? It's not right. It's all wrong.
Why is he so empty? Why is Alpha just holding him right now? Alpha should be inside him, stretching him out and filling him. He should be carrying alpha's seed, bearing his pups and—
“Alpha—” he moans, hands clutching on Ashveil’s neck, trying to wiggle his hips closer, desperate to feel the Alpha against him, inside him. “Please! I need you, please!”
A growl escapes Ashveil, before he can stop it, which only adds to Caelus' arousal. The alpha inside him digs its claws into his mind.
His hold on the omega tightens, his morals seeping out of his like water through a sieve. What is so wrong about this anyway? They're both adults, and wasn't it Caelus who came to his bed? The omega should've been aware of the consequences of entering a wolf’s den while smelling the sweetest nectar.
What else is Ashveil supposed to do here? An omega who he's been looking at for the last few days and the first ever in the last few decades of his life is throwing himself in his arms, begging for him. If this is supposed to be some kind of test for his morals, he's already failed it.
What sane wolf would say no to such a feast? A prey that's begging to be claimed, to be devoured, desperately calling his name? Ashveil is a strong man, but even he has his limits—
But he's not there yet. Not yet.
“This isn't what you want,” Ashveil rips the words out, against all protest of his alpha. He's not going to take advantage of this omega today. No. “Let me go, and I'll—”
“Alpha doesn't want omega?” Caelus whips head to look him in the eyes, tears gathering at the corner. His omega howls in pain of the rejection, trying to think of anything to change the alpha's mind. “Please I'll— don't leave me, please—”
“No no, that's not…” Ashveil immediately tries to soothe the omega with more pheromones but the tears in his eyes don't stop, flowing down his flushed, red cheeks. He speaks out in a soft tone, “Sweetheart, that's not what I meant…”
Caelus shivers slightly at the pet name, sniffing. “Please… please don't leave. I need you—”
“I know what you need,” Ashveil coos at him, cupping his cheeks in his palm, whipping away the tears below his eyes. “I'll bring it right to you.”
The omega, who had relaxed only for a second against the alpha's warm palms, vehemently shook his head. “Nothing else! Alpha… only alpha please!”
This conversation is going nowhere.
Ashveil hesitates for a second, carefully considering his options, before pulling Caelus' face closer. His lips brush against the warm skin of his forehead and firmly plant a kiss. “Stay” he whispers, forcing his alpha to utter out a command.
It works like a charm as the omega goes limp in his hold. Satisfaction rolls in waves in his scent, turning sweeter and less cloying. He smells like warm honey in the sunlight. Ashveil craves to taste it on his tongue but no. This isn't about him right now.
When he feels the omega go quiet and the warmth become calmer under his touch, he moves away quickly, rushing towards the desk to look for the tranquilizer. The omega sits in a daze, eyes distant as the warmth of the alpha's affection, determined to follow his commands.
Ashveil frowns in distaste. He's never been fond of alpha commands. Using one’s biology against them to rip away their autonomy is absolutely disgusting. He can count on one hand all the times he's ever used them in his life, and he's determined to never use them unless a situation absolutely calls for it.
This being one of them.
Where the fuck is the goddamn tranquilizer. ‘You would know if you organised your own drawers yourself,’ a voice, suspiciously like Narrator, rings on his mind but he shoos it away.
He rummages through files of old cases, empty pens and other documents. Even pricks his fingers on stray pins, trying to hurry and move through them as quickly as possible, before the effect of the command wears off or Caelus' next heat wave comes—
Neither happens but nor does Ashveil get the chance to continue his search as he hears Caelus fall out of the freezer and onto the floor, wheezing uncontrollably.
“Caelus!” He runs towards the boy, holding him up as he continues to choke and hack, body shaking weakly. What is— oh
Oh for fuck’s sake, this guy is more stubborn than he thought.
“Why are you fighting the command, you idiot,” Ashveil hissed, trying to gather the omega in his arms, rubbing circles on his back and releasing more of his pheromones. “Let go, stop fighting it!!”
Rejecting a command isn't impossible, but the consequences it has on an omega's body is horrifying. It's like two parts of a single brain fighting each other, trying to take control of the body. An omega's nerves burn at the pain, like drinking hot oil that melts your insides.
Damn it, why won't he let go?!
The command wasn't even something that bad! Why is he so adamant on rejecting it?! Ashveil bites his lip, watching the omega helplessly writhe in his arms, yet there's a fire in his eyes when he meets the alpha's eyes. It's a silent challenge.
His eye twitches at the audacity but he finally admits defeat. “Rescind,” he commands again, as Caelus' body slumps in relief, gulping in air like a man parched in the desert. All Ashveil can do is hold him.
Only after a while does Caelus' breathing calm down, panic ebbing away. His eyes don't have that distant look anymore but an unexpected, raw fire of determination. And a touch of sadness
“Is having sex with me that repulsive?” He asks, his voice not loud enough to call it shouting but it's close enough when it echoes against the quiet walls of the office. “that you'll even use a command to hold me down?”
“You're not in your right mind,” Ashveil retorts. “I can't take you when your instincts are going haywire from the hea—”
“I just fought against my instincts to tell you that I want you, what more convincing do you need!?”
That—
Huh.
He didn't consider that.
“Ashveil,” Caelus speaks up. The alpha shivers at the name, realising that he's no longer calling him ‘alpha’. Like he's completely aware of who he's talking to and not some nameless alpha who he needs just to satiate his heat. The implications that Caelus knows and still wants him, makes his head muddle with a sugary warmth. “I want you.”
Ashveil considers himself a level-headed man.
He's aware of his flaws and instincts. The alpha inside him is a beast that hunts, takes and devours. He keeps it on a tight leash, making sure it never leaves the dark trenches of his mind. Even during ruts, he makes sure to never let it completely consume him, lest he destroys something he holds dear.
But what beast would sit still when a willing prey steps on his doorstep, and knocks down the door? What beast would turn away its fangs when the prey exposes its neck with twinkling eyes and all the enthusiasm in the world?
What beast would deny a prey asking to be devoured?
“I gave you multiple chances,” Ashveil tightens his hold on Caelus and without a warning, hoists him up. The omega yelps but is silenced by Ashveil seamlessly slotting his lips against his.
Taste of honey and want, floods into his mouth as he groans, drinking in the delicious moans directly from the omega's lips. His mouth is hot as he drags his tongue over the pallet of his mouth, over the back of his teeth before plunging it as deep as it can go.
All Caelus can do is hold onto the alpha's neck, letting him explore this mouth all he wants while he moans and tries to follow his movements.
Ashveil pulls away before he can find a rhythm, making the omega whine and follow after his lips. The alpha laughs with kindness and places a chaste at the corner of his lips.
So precious.
So sweet.
“Yet you keep playing with fire,” the alpha murmurs, placing down a trail of kisses before tugging on the omega's earlobe with his teeth. Caelus whines when he feels the sharp fangs brush against him. “Do you even know what this means?”
“It means—” Caelus grits out, fighting against the heat to remain sane for now. Until he can convince Ashveil that it isn't just the heat talking. “It means you'll fuck me like you mean it.”
Ashveil growls, it's a guttural sound that his alpha utters out from the depths of his soul. He's never felt more in-tune with the beast before and he doesn't know if that is a good thing or not.
“It means...” He holds Caelus by the thighs and jumps inside the fridge again, not before plugging the switch out. Wouldn't want his omega to catch a cold, now would he? He places Caelus gently inside the bed, silently cursing himself for now having enough pillows for a proper nest. He'll go out to buy some later.
“... That I'm going to take you right now.” He kisses him deep, not putting his tongue in but pushing against those plump lips until Caelus' head is pressed hard against the bed. His hands keep his hips pressed against the bed as they buck up to meet the alpha's. He tugs on the lips, fangs burying gently into the flesh, pulling back until the omega whines to be kissed again.
Ashveil doesn’t give him that. He moves downwards, kissing and sucking the tender, flushed skin until he reaches the hollow of his neck. Dizzy on the sweetness, he licks the dip, dragging his tongue up and nibbles on the Adam's Apple, drinking in the keen the omega lets out.
“I'll tear you apart with my teeth…”
He keeps one hand on his hips while the other travels up, up, sneaking under the white shirt and— holy shit is that a crop top— the alpha groans, cock stirring in the confines of his pants.
Ashveil cups one breast in his hand, placing a bite on the crook of the omega's neck, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist as the omega bucks his hips up at the sensations. The calluses of his fingers brush against the perked up nipples, swirling around the areola but not touching.
Caelus whines at the feeling, wiggling his torso to get Ashveil to touch him already. But Ashveil doesn't. He rips his hands away, taking all the pleasure away. All this teasing is driving the omega mad. Why won't the alpha touch him already?!
“Alpha, please—”
“Say my name, baby”
“Ashveil— Ah!”
The omega screams as Ashveil lightly presses into his nipple, digging into the flesh, scratching it with his nails and tugging. Caelus thrashes against the sensations, but is firmly held down, keeping him from escaping. Forcing him to take it.
The contrast of the gentle actions and the unrelenting nature drive him crazy, the touches burn into his skin and melt his brain until it's barely mush.
“... I'll unravel you with my hands…”
He gives one last squeeze to his hips before finally freeing him from the bruising grip. Before Caelus has a chance to react, he *grinds* down his clothed erection over the omega's soaked pants.
The shape of the sizable bulge directly over his sensitive core makes his convulse, his omega preening at finally getting some attention where he needs it. He tries bucking up into the pleasure but Ashveil moves away just as he finds the strength.
Caelus sobs out loud, desperate to feel some sort of relief. He has been strung high all night, dangling from an invisible edge that frayed all his nerves until his whole body is alight with need. He doesn't know how much more he can take before he—
Ashveil's hand that was on his hips finds his way up his stomach, pressing a claw directly into the skin. It's sharp enough that Caelus knows that he could gut him alive if he wanted to. It should be terrifying how vulnerable he is in the complete mercy of this alpha but it only arouses him more, sends a heat flooding into his veins that his body thrums with pleasure and anticipation.
The claws trace a path. From under his chest, over his diaphragm, moving down over the planes of his stomach, catching on his belly button. Caelus flitches into the touch when the claw of his index finger dips into orifice, lightly scratching the sensitive skin before stopping right below it. Right over his womb.
He presses the claw right over it as he bucks down to press his hips to Caelus' again, finally granting him the touch he's been craving. Caelus screams in pleasure, the sound quickly stolen away by Ashveil, who plunges his tongue into his mouth, mercilessly drinking in any and all the little sounds the omega makes. Greedy, possessive, like a beast savouring its meal.
“… and reshape your guts with my cock.”
Caelus whimpers, furiously nodding his head. Tears now streaming down his face, “Yes, please! Take me, take it all! Ashveil—”
“Good boy.”
Ashveil leans in again, pressing his entire body into the omega's, smothering him entirely with his weight. To caelus, however, it only brings him joy in being caged like this by his alpha. It's comforting, all-consuming and oh he loves it so much.
“From now, the only thing you're going to remember is my name,” he whispers, his breath fanning over his ear, “and you're going to scream it for the rest of the night.”
His fingers dip into the omega's waistband, sneaking into his underwear and palming his pussy. It's so wet that he can audibly hear the squelching sounds it makes as Ashveil drags his index finger over the slit. Embarrassment floods him as he instinctively tries to close his legs but that only brings the alpha's fingers closer until they press directly into his clit.
The touch is light yet electricity shoots throughout his body, swimming through his brain and into his skull as he throws his head back with a loud moan, body convulsing as more and more slick gushes out of his hole and onto Ashveil's fingers, who only human in delight at the poor omega.
He doesn't move as Caelus comes down from his high, panting like a man drowning, chest heaving up and down. He takes his fingers out, watching the thick fluid coating the digits, forming clear, weblike threads as he parts them. Ashveil watches in fascination while Caelus is too tired to even form a thought, let alone feels the shame he'd have inevitably felt.
The alpha puts the fingers in his mouth, tasting the flavours of sweet honey and cinnamon burst in his tongue, coating it all the way to the back of his throat. He moans at the taste as he licks the slick, tongue swirling between fingers, trying to lap up every single drop.
His eyes never leave Caelus', irises flashing red as they meet gold, watching him like a wolf circling its prey, ready to devour at any moment, without mercy.
He leans closer, holding the omega's jaw. He tugs down on his lower lip, a silent command that he obeys on instinct and opens his mouth. The alpha places his thumb, coated in saliva and Caelus' own slick, directly over his tongue and presses until his mouth is wide open.
“You'll not be the same person you were, ever again, after I'm done with you.”
The omega shivers at the threat (the promise), laying pliantly as he awaits Ashveil's next move. The alpha doesn't move for a while, silently contemplating in his own head, or perhaps fighting the remaining vestiges of his own sanity. When he does decide to move, he moves away, much to the omega's horror.
Is he going to stop? No he can't— no no no—
“Do you understand now?”
Ashveil's voice, grounded and deep, a grand contrast to his crazed eyes, burning with a bright red intensity that makes the omega's insides contract painfully. He feels like a prey backed into a corner, about to be ripped to shreds or swallowed whole.
It's an out, he understands.
A final decision of yes or no before they cross into a territory they can never return from.
Caelus fully understands the weight, even as he's fighting back his omega from taking control. Ashveil needs him to consent. That's exactly what he'll get.
He sits up, crawling over under he's sitting between the alpha's thighs and cups his face in his hands and yanks him down. Ashveil is stupified at the sudden display of strength and can only barely avoid hitting the edge. Caelus maneuvers the alpha until he's on his back and climbs onto his stomach to straddle him, ass pressing directly over his cock. They both let out a collective moan at the touch.
The omega leans forward, bracing both hands on the alpha's chest and he brings their faces closer. Their breaths mingle together between their lips, an intertwining scent of honey and ink that they both relish in.
Caelus tries to convey all his thoughts, all his feelings through his eyes as he utters one single syllable, taking a leap over that boundary.
“Yes.”
He watches the alpha's eyes widen, surprising flashing, before morphing into realisation, contemplation, acceptance before finally, single minded determination and hunger.
“Alright.”
Suddenly he's sitting up, the motion making Caelus slide down until he's sitting on Ashveil's lap, the tent of his pants firmly pressed into his ass. It's hard, hot, and makes his mouth water at the thought of getting to taste it.
The thought escapes him as the alpha yanks up his shirt roughly, almost tearing apart the fabric had Caelus cooperated any later. The sudden sense of urgency after being deliberate for so long drowns Caelus, like being thrown into an ocean and treading through endless sands of the desert. It gives him whiplash and the hands grab at any expanse of exposed him, burning him like an iron brand, marking him, claiming him.
“Play time’s over then.”
Ashveil mutters, tearing through his own shirt, putting the toned muscles on full display for Caelus to feast his eyes on. They bulge under the alpha's skin as he lays him down, pulling the omega's hips up and pulling off his pants in one smooth motion.
He kisses the side of his knees, hands roaming over his milky thighs and moving up, over his stomach and chest, pulling up the omega's shirt back up over his chest, exposing the perked up buds. Ashveil's teeth itch with the urge to bite.
“And now…” he mutters, leaning forward with the omega's legs on his shoulders, effectively folding him half, marvelling how he takes it like a champ without a single word of protest. Like he was made for it.
He watches enraptured the way his pupils widen, the black engulfing the gold until all that remains is a golden ring with a black void in the middle. Like a black hole, pulling Ashveil's soul in until he's trapped, suspended on a dimension that exists between them and then alone.
The need to fight back flares in him, urging it to swallow him before he gets swallowed. To hunt down and consume, to devour until they're one in the same, no boundaries to tell them apart.
“It's time to devour the prey,” he declares, letting his alpha take over, allowing the beast to finally bare his claws and fangs. His tongue feels rough, throat turning dry with a thirst for blood. A taste of a divine essence that oozes out of the prey beneath him, all limp and ready.
After decades of suppression, his alpha howls in delight, ready to pounce, and he knows that the little omega can take it. He'll take it and more, he'll take whatever he's going to offer and then beg for more. The little omega is perfect for him, a pretty little offering to satiate a wolf's hunger.
He breathes in, mouth hovering directly over the side of the omega's neck.
“So forgive me,” is the last he says before he dives in to devour.
Ashveil's fifth mistake was thinking he could deny the omega, in the first place.