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It is a very rare occasion for the Kremnoan crown prince to have a day off.
It is even more of a rare occasion for the Kremnoan crown prince to have a day off without a certain Deliverer glued to his hip and seeking his attention throughout every quint of the day.
As much as Mydei does not mind the alpha’s constant presence, there are times when a man needs some quality time with his right hand… Especially a man like him— an unmated omega with a perfectly functional nose who may also be attracted to the alpha that loves invading his personal space.
And speaking of a perfectly functional nose, even now, after a relaxing rose-petal bath, he can still smell traces of Phainon’s pheromones on him. The same way he can smell the spikes of the alpha’s scent when they are spending their days together.
“Mydei! Ready for our daily spar?” Accompanied by the fresh scent of the sea.
“Thank you for accompanying me!” The air around him warms up like a bakery full of fresh bread, soothing and comforting like a heavy blanket.
“We should check this shop next… Or maybe that one?” Mydei doesn’t need to look where the Deliverer disappeared to, following the tangy smell of citrus until he catches up to the curious Alpha.
“Oi, Mydei, stop chit-chatting, we’ll be late to the baths!” There would be a smile on Phainon’s face, always a smile, but his arms would wrap possessively around Mydei, and his scent would sour; notes of a heavy, suffocating ash tickling his nose.
Then there is the strongest scent of them all. The one that always clings to Mydei’s mind during his heats. Thick, rich Maple, blatant and shameless, giving away the man’s desire for him, always followed by a shy “Can I scent you? Please?” Like the alpha is capable of feeling embarrassment.
Which is a whole issue on its own, as Phainon is possibly not even aware of Mydei’s secondary gender.
It’s not like he ever tried hiding being an omega. He really didn’t. But as the leader of his people he could not let his pheromones give out his true emotions or thoughts. So against every Kremnoan tradition, he chose to wear scent-blocking patches on his glands and ignore the rumors surrounding him due to said decision, mostly because he couldn't care less for those.
The only time Mydei does allow himself to take off the patches is in rare moments like this, where he has the day off, and Aglaea is courteous enough to send the Deliverer on a mission, together with someone who is not named Mydeimos for once, thank fuck.
Because he really, really needs the alone time after Phainon practically rutted against his ass this entry hour under the guise of pinning him to the ground mid-spar.
Mydei sighs, rubbing a soothing ointment on his sore scent glands as he lets his pheromones fill the room, dropping back to the bed with a satisfied groan. Thank the titans he didn’t bother putting his armor back after the bath. He unclasps the thin chiton, letting the fabric pile under him on the silken sheets— fingers trailing along his bare skin in a promise of pleasure.
When was the last time he got the chance to enjoy himself with no interruptions like this outside of his heats? Weeks? Months?
Chances like this don’t come by often.
And Mydei has no desire to waste a single second.
He shifts inside the nest of luxurious silks and soft pillows, tosses the chiton to the floor, and closes his eyes, letting his mind drift. From Phainon’s charming smile, to the tempting scent gland hidden under the alpha’s collar, begging to be licked until the scent sticks to his tongue forever, and lastly to the man’s large palms. They fit perfectly over his ass, over his pecs too, when Phainon feels shameless enough to grope him in the baths.
Or that one time a few weeks ago, when he insisted on the ridiculous competition of comparing whose dick is bigger.
Because apparently that’s what alphas do, and Phainon thinks he’s a fellow alpha.
Perhaps he should have resisted harder and refused the stupid challenge, but he had always been bad at saying no to the Deliverer’s equally stupid puppy face.
And as punishment for indulging him, all Mydei could think of for a whole week was the massive size of Phainon’s cock and the thick swelling at the base— a knot his body itches to accommodate inside him. He still can’t tell how he got away with showing his own, much smaller and knotless dick without the Deliverer suspecting anything.
"You're so pretty, Mydei. Your cock fits in my palm perfectly, see," as if to prove some sort of point, Phainon reached to wrap his large palm around him, pumping the short length a few times before Mydei pulled away, hissing to stop with the mockery. He is not pretty.
But truth to be told, he likes it, he likes it when Phainon calls him pretty, likes how the alpha’s palms are big enough to wrap around him completely, until barely the head peeks from the tight fist... He’s getting sidetracked.
Mydei refocuses his intent.
He cups his chest, skillful fingers kneading the soft pecs before circling the dusky areolas, teasing the way he knows Phainon would. His hips buck, cock starting to fill up. Mydei sighs, finally reaching his nipples, rolling the peaked buds between the digits, scraping the tips with his nails, until pleasure starts shooting up his nerves.
Fuck, the Deliverer’s fingers are bigger, more calloused; they would feel so much better on his tits.
His cock twitches once more, fattening against his thigh, a bead of precum forming at the partially hidden tip. Yet, what makes Mydei shudder is not that, but the trickle of slick, dripping out of his hole. Thick, wet, trailing between his cheeks and soaking into the bedsheet.
“Delive–rer,” He breathes out, savoring the nickname on his tongue. His cock stands at full mast now, demanding his attention, and Mydei lets one hand trail down, wrapping his palm around the hard flesh, giving it a slow, testing squeeze. A quiet groan escapes his lips. It feels good —immensely good— but it isn't nearly enough to soothe the craving in his core.
Instinctively, Mydei pulls his cock aside, reaching past his balls to press a finger pad at his hole.
“Should I?” He hesitates. On a normal day, his privacy was always limited; as a certain alpha loves barging into his chambers unannounced, and his options are usually to will his arousal away, or fuck into his fist in the bathroom and ignore his body’s primal need to be filled.
But he should have the time today, Phainon is away for at least a few more quints, and it’s been so long since he stretched himself and felt nice and full. Even longer since he allowed himself to fantasize a little about what he wants to have so badly, if not for their current circumstances…
“Enough of that.” Mydei groans, his scent souring at the thought of his duty. He does not want to waste his precious private time wallowing. He’s here to get off, properly, since Phainon has gotten him too worked up to be satisfied with a quick orgasm.
He sinks deeper between the dozens of pillows, returning his attention to his cock first. He tugs the sensitive flesh lazily until he’s hard again and the skin peels back from the leaking head. Then, he brings two of his fingers back to his entrance. Two digits circle around his rim, smearing his own slick, stomach tightening as the muscle flutters eagerly, leaking more on his fingertips.
Breathing in, he pushes the first digit in slowly, savoring the stretch, cheeks heating up at the wet squelch when he thrusts his finger in a few times, adding a second one shortly after.
Titans, he barely did anything and he’s soaked as if he’s in heat.
“That’s it, my sweet omega, so wet and eager for me, aren’t you?”
Mydei gasps, feeling more slick gush out of him, running past his knuckle and down into the sheets. His cheeks burn, pheromones thickening, almost suffocatingly so at the thought of Phainon whispering something so shameless down his ear.
“Stupid deliverer.” He grunts, rolling to his side and hiding his heated face in the pillows— freezing instantly.
A familiar scent hits his nose, stronger than the remains of it on his own skin. Warm like the sun and fresh like sea-breeze, carrying faint traces of grass and soil gathered throughout the day and… Mydei takes another whiff of the fabric, arousal shooting through his spine as he takes in the muskier undertones of thick, syrupy maple.
His brain stutters, scrambling for a logical reason to why the alpha’s scent has intensified, panic taking over before he finds an answer.
Mydei withdraws his fingers, biting on his lip at the sudden emptiness, and covers himself with the first blanket he manages to grab. He stays hidden like that for a good minute, shame bubbling in his chest, expecting to hear an amused chuckle, a laugh, maybe a teasing remark, or a surprised gasp, but no sound comes.
Slowly, carefully, he peeks his head from beneath the soft fabric and opens one eye, scanning the room. It’s just him in there, Phainon didn’t magically manifest in his chambers.
The realization is almost as disappointing as it is a relief.
Which is ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.
Another wave of shame takes over him. Mydei groans into the nearest pillow and drags both hands down his face, wishing for a brief and merciful death, even if he technically cannot die. Did he really just hide under the blankets, thinking Phainon walked on him?
He absolutely did.
But it does not explain the sudden alpha scent... Mydei props himself up to his elbows, tossing the covers off and scanning the room once more, eyes landing on a bright piece of blue cloth contrasting with the soft pinks and deep reds of his nest, right next to where his head was seconds ago.
Phainon’s mantle.
Right.
The Deliverer left him the cloth after they sparred in the morning, a cocky smirk plastered across his face when he draped it over Mydei’s shoulders. “In case you feel lonely without me, princess,” he had teased, laughing at the glare Mydei shot him.
Hmph.
He does not feel lonely.
His day had been peaceful so far, exactly how he likes it; without interruptions or impromptu baths and stupid competitions.
“Stupid HKS,” Mydei repeats, burying his face back in the pillows with a loud groan. For a long moment, he considers abandoning his plans to get off and call it a day, maybe take a long, peaceful nap instead… Yet his gaze keeps drifting toward the bright strip of blue carelessly abandoned among his bedding.
Mocking him.
Reminding him of its owner.
Tempting him.
“Just one more whiff and you’ll throw the stupid thing away,” Mydei reasons with himself, his hand already grabbing the mantle, bringing it closer to his nose. He takes a small, shy inhale at first, then a bigger one, and one more, and more. By the fourth breath, he already knows he has made a terrible mistake.
Maybe he should continue with his original plan after all, just this once.
He closes his eyes, letting the fantasy take over with each intake of Phainon’s scent.
“That's it, baby, show me how much you want me.”
Mydei whimpers, reaching behind him once more, shoving three of his fingers into the dripping wet hole, a relieved sigh on his lips as the fullness returns.
Behind his closed lids, Phainon looms over him with a predatory smirk. Mydei breathes in the fabric again, rubbing his scent glands all over it in a pathetic attempt to scent the alpha back.
“Let me,” Phainon leans close enough to murmur in his ear, replacing Mydei’s fingers with his. The alpha thrusts his much thicker digits in him, scissoring and curling them just right.
One more whiff, Mydei’s nose catches on a spot that smells strongly of maple and the leather of the alpha’s coat. He bites down on the fabric until the scent bursts on his tongue, taking over his senses.
“Mm, so wet already, you’ll take my cock so well, won’t you?” Phainon whispers right into his ear, cocky but so so correct. He would. He would take him so good, ride the veiny length until the thick knot breaches past his rim and inflates, until he’s satiated and full of the Deliverer’s cum.
Mydei bites on an embarrassingly loud moan at the thought of Phainon’s seed taking, about his belly swelling with children. Fuck, he wants it so bad his entire body spasms. He wants to be claimed by Phainon and Phainon alone, start a family together once the flame chase is over…
“Yeah? You want my pups, princess?” Phainon smiles, his voice smug. “Want me to fill your greedy little hole with my seed?”
Normally, Mydei would growl at him to shut up, maybe punch him for saying something so shameless, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a needy mewl.
“Yes, Phainon, please...” He buries his face deeper into the mantle-covered pillow, inhaling Phainon’s scent like a drug while his fingers fuck into his dripping hole faster. His hips buck, thighs trembling, back arching as he curls his fingers deeper, trying to reach the spot that would tip him over the edge for sure—
“Not yet.” Phainon chuckles at his eagerness, ” You can only cum on my cock, baby.”
Mydei’s eyes fly open, fingers freezing mid-thrust, buried deep inside him.
He blinks once, twice, brain processing what just happened. A sharp wave of frustration washes over him a second later, staining the air of the room with absolute annoyance.
“You… fuck—!” He snarls, fighting the urge to scream. Of course. Of-fucking-course even the version of Phainon inside his own head is an insufferable, cocky bastard who loves tormenting him.
It’s even more frustrating that the denial manages to turn him on further, like his body enjoys what his ego refuses to accept, cock throbbing harder, untouched and begging for attention, while more slick gushes around his fingers with every shallow, involuntary grind of his hips.
He wants to chase the pleasure and ignore the bastard.
“You know better than this, my sweet omega,” Mydei can practically hear Phainon’s low, mocking chuckle in his mind. “Or did thinking about me reduced you to a mindless bitch in heat?”
The mockery burns, but instead of cooling his blood, it acts like a fuel thrown into a fire, shooting straight to his core, as humiliating as it is.
A mindless bitch in heat.
Mydei wants to deny it. He wants to tear Phainon’s mantle to shreds and prove he isn't some helpless omega who can be toyed with. But his body won’t listen to reason, shaking like a leaf, wanting, needing more— instinct begging him to agree and chase the pleasure, even if his ego screams it’s stupid.
And unfortunately, his ego is not strong enough to win this fight.
With an annoyed hiss, Mydei pulls his wet digits out of himself. The obscene squelch that follows makes his cheeks flame up, and the sudden emptiness rips a whine out of him, a sound he doesn't even bother to muffle anymore. He scrambles to the edge of the bed, leaning over the side, reaching blindly underneath the thick wooden frame.
His fingers brush against the familiar velvet of the small crate hidden away in the dark. He pulls it out with no patience, flipping the latch open with clumsy, slick-coated fingers. Inside is the array of his heat aids, hidden away from the curious eyes of a certain nosy Deliverer.
Mydei peeks over the edge of the mattress, spotting the one toy he wants to use immediately. It’s a heavy, thick, veiny piece of silicone, adorned with a massive knot at the base— the latest addition to his collection, and the largest toy he owns. A toy he purchased impulsively after seeing the sheer size of the alpha currently tormenting his thoughts.
He lifts it from the crate, heart hammering in his chest and brows drawing together as he stares at the appendage. He only used this toy once, during his recent heat, but the longer he stares at it, the hesitation in his mind begins to warp into a challenge.
Phainon had promised, promised he could cum once he’s inside him, and he refuses to be denied again.
Determined, Mydei shoves the crate back under the bed, shifting himself up onto his hands and knees in the middle of his messed-up nest, ass high in the air, completely exposed if a certain Deliverer was to barge into his chambers.
The thought alone makes more slick trickle down his thighs.
“Who would've imagined the great Mydeimos would be spreading his legs so shamelessly?” Phainon would probably say, trying to sound amused while his scent thickens at the sight of the wanting omega right in front of him.
Mydei reaches for the mantle, burying his face directly into the fabric to descend back into fantasy, inhaling Phainon’s scent as the alpha spreads his cheeks wider, aligning his cock to his dripping hole.
“Get on with it, Deliverer.” Mydei whimpers into the cloth, sliding the toy against his entrance a few times to spread his slick over it, before pressing the blunt, thick tip of the toy to his entrance, pushing just until his rim gives, pulling back immediately.
“So impatient,” Phainon would absolutely answer, waiting for Mydei to snarl at him again, or beg like a true bitch in heat. Or maybe he’d be merciful after all the teasing and finally, finally, let him have what he needs.
His mind chooses the latter.
Mydei pushes the toy in slowly at first, determined to stay in control. But the thick head forces its way inside, splitting him open.
“Ah… fu..ck!” A choked gasp tears from his throat. The stretch is impossible, an euphoric mix of pain and pleasure that has sweat trailing down his spine and hair sticking to his temples.
He tries to keep his pace slow through it, tries to stay in control, but his body betrays him, hips jerking back greedily, swallowing inch after inch of the massive length. Mydei screws his eyes shut, teeth digging into the brightly colored cloth, darkening the blue fabric with his drool, the last of his restraint finally shatters.
In his mind, it’s no longer a cold silicone, but a hot, scorching cock, and Phainon’s hands are gripping at his hips, fingers digging bruises into inked skin as the alpha slowly fucks into him. Mydei arches his back, hips rolling backward in a desperate attempt to swallow more of the length, until the knot catches on his rim, indicating that Phainon has bottomed out, for now.
The promise of feeling the alpha’s knot inside him wracks a shiver through his spine.
“That's my perfect mate,” Phainon moans, phantom lips kissing his shoulder, back, the scent gland on his nape, sharp canines nibbling at the sensitive, unclaimed flesh. “You don't have to hold back anymore, baby, let me take care of you now.”
Mydei’s eyes roll back, a needy, broken sob echoing in the room as his hips start moving slowly, craving the alpha’s promise so bad. "Deliverer, please! Phainon—"
“Mm, That’s it, you’re all mine now.” The Deliverer’s scent intensifies as he picks up the pace, ramming his cock relentlessly inside him, each thrust forcing the air out of his lungs. The bulbous head of Phainon’s length drills into his prostate with scary precision, and whatever coherency Mydei had left evaporates, until his mind is void of any thoughts aside from Phainon, Phainon, Phainon…
“Phainon!” He moans, head falling to the side as more drool trickles from the side of his mouth. He grinds back on the toy cock, chasing the pleasure, begging for the release his body is screaming for. “Harder, please-phai, fuck me harder!”
He’s so close, so damn close. The earlier edging had only amplified his arousal. His cock bobs uselessly between his legs, completely forgotten over the immense pleasure of being fucked with every inch of his life.
“Is that what you wanted, baby? You wanted to be fucked into submission?” Phainon murmurs, his hot breath brushing the shell of Mydei’s ear, and yes. Yes, yes, yes. This is what he wants; he wants the Deliverer to claim him, to make him submit, to make him beg for his knot— everything he would never voice out loud.
“Yes–ah! Phainon, please!” Mydei buries his face in the mantle, inhaling the musk, and for a second, he swears the scent becomes even stronger, swears he can hear Phainon gasping his name so vividly like he’s right there next to him.
Nikador strike him, he’s too far gone, no longer able to tell between a wishful dream and reality.
“Just like that, my sweet princess, take my knot. Let me breed you full of my pups.” The thick knot nudges his rim, stretching him impossibly wider until it finally pops inside, and he can feel Phainon’s cock all the way in his stomach.
“Alpha!” Mydei cries out loud to the empty room, completely lost in the fantasy. His scent glands pulse, begging to be claimed. His thighs shake so violently he can barely keep his ass hoisted in the air. “Please, alpha… I want your pups—”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Mydeimos—” Phainon’s voice dies on his tongue, throat bobbing visibly, constricting against the tight leather choker. He stops in his tracks, right in front of the short hallway leading to the crown prince’s chambers. His pupils dilate, heart rate picking up, nostrils flaring to take more of the scent assaulting his senses.
It hits him harder than the titankins did. The scent is thick, warm, and intoxicatingly sweet, like ripe pomegranates and caramelized sugar, mixed with the heavy musk of hot iron. It is so alluring, so mouthwatering, that his knees buckle, hand shooting out to steady himself against the stone wall.
Cold sweat washes over him as he takes another deep inhale. His cock hardens in record time, the base swelling in preparation for a knot. His scent glands pulse, releasing more of his own pheromones subconsciously while his canines sharpen, itching to sink into the flesh of the aroused, unmated omega— undoubtedly omega— and claim whoever this person is.
The feeling is like a whiplash. Phainon never felt like this, never had his instincts screaming inside his head. He has no interest in omegas to begin with, finding their pheromones suffocating, like a perfume someone applied too much of. And besides, his heart already belongs to a certain alpha.
An alpha who apparently doesn’t feel the same, as the source of those pheromones seems to be coming from the door ahead of him, the door of Mydei’s room.
Phainon’s heart sinks.
He did everything in his power to return early from the mission. He slayed the titankins with all his might, urged the rescued citizens to rush toward Okhema so impatiently that Castorice and Trinnon laughed at his desperation, telling him that Mydei would wait for him regardless.
But it’s not about Mydei waiting.
He can’t wait. He is the one craving the fellow alpha’s company more than he could possibly word out. It’s his body that is shaking with the need to be in Mydei’s presence, so much that he ran toward the Marmoreal palace the second they returned, not bothering to report to Aglaea first or wash the dirt off. It is him who is wanting to hear that familiar irritated huff when he calls Mydei “princess,” and see his cheeks redden despite the denial.
Yet, here is Mydei, the man he thought he shared a unique, unshakeable bond with, bedding an omega in his short absence.
Anger and jealousy bubble inside him in an ugly concoction, making his vision go dark. The alluring scent of the omega souring on his tongue, losing its earlier appeal. Did they approach Mydei earlier, while he was away? Did they seduce the crown prince with their scent? Did they wait for Phainon’s pheromones to fade before approaching the alpha and covering him in their scent?
Every thought makes his fury boil hotter. That bitch is right there, possibly mating the fiery-blond alpha, his fiery blond alpha, while he never had the luxury of even smelling him— cursing the scent-blocking patches Mydei insists on wearing.
It’s so unfair. So fucking unfair.
He wants to punch the nearest wall. He wants to burst through those doors, tear the omega apart, and then press his face into Mydei’s neck and replace every foreign note with his own until no one else would dare come near. He wants to beg Oronyx to rewind the time and refuse the damn mission.
But his legs are already carrying him against his will, closer and closer until he’s right in front of the slightly ajar door. From this close, the scent is even heavier, a hundred times stronger than in the hallway.
Phainon presses his palms to the cold stone, takes a deep breath, and against everything he had been taught in his life, he peeks inside, swearing to hunt down the omega who dared to touch what’s his, who dared to take away the only person who made his chest feel warm and alive instead of empty.
What he does not expect, though, is the sight that greets him.
He wants to take back everything he thought about this omega.
As the room is void of one.
Mydeimos is alone on the bed, and he is on all fours, face buried in Phainon’s mantle, the one he left him before the mission. Mydei’s ass is tilted high, one arm desperately fucking a thick fake cock into his hole. More and more slick gushes out with each thrust, dripping down the toy, his thighs, and soaking into the sheets beneath him— creating an obscene sight. His skin is glistening from the effort, making the red swirls of ink across his body glow in the dimmed room.
And the noises. Khephale above. Between the wet squelch of the toy, the creaking of the bed, and the needy moans of, "Deliverer, please... Phainon," Phainon feels lightheaded.
Confusion crashes through him first. He can’t tell if he officially lost it and started hallucinating, or if the sight in front of him is real. It’s Mydei’s body, Mydei’s voice, Mydei’s perfectly round ass, but everything else makes no sense.
Mydei is an alpha. He is as tall as Phainon, just as broad too, and he carries the authority of an alpha whenever he speaks to his people.
Disbelief hits next, harder than the Kremnoan’s fists during their sparring. It must be the pheromones playing tricks on him.
But the more he stares at the man on the bed— gawks, actually— the more things click in place. Be it the scent patches or the way Mydei never complained about being scented. His habit of taking care of all the heirs, or the lack of a knot on the man’s much smaller cock.
How was he stupid enough not to notice?
The last emotion to take over him is hunger, hot, pure, and possessive hunger.
He had come to terms with the fact that they could never have pups of their own, as alphas could not bear children. But since Mydeimos is an omega… The realization sinks deep into his bones. He can breed him. Fill him with his seed until it takes. Give him a family. The thought alone makes his mouth water and scent spike, unable to control his pheromones any longer.
“Harder, please-phai, fuck me harder!”
Phainon wants to push the door open, let Mydei know that he’s here, that he wants him just as badly if not more. He’d yank the toy out of his dripping hole, flip the Kremnoan on his back and bury himself inside that tight, slick heat. He would make love to him properly at first, slow, sensual, then harder, until they are locked together by his knot and his cum floods Mydei’s womb.
“Phainon!” Another cry of his name pulls him out of his lust-induced trance.
He jerks back from the door like the contact burns, averting his eyes shamefully. “What the hell am I thinking!?” He mutters under his breath.
Guilt crashes over him within seconds.
Mydei is clearly having a private moment, even if it’s Phainon’s name he’s desperately calling for. He has no right to be here, to watch him like this. Nor has he any right to intrude Mydei when he’s at his most vulnerable, no matter how hard his cock is straining inside his underwear.
He should leave. He really should turn around and leave, beeline to his own chambers and fuck his fist to the memory of the blond’s ass until he can think straight again. Then, he could text Mydei and tell him he’s back, suggest they bathe together like usual, or maybe spend the rest of his evening planning how to confess his feelings to the fiercest omega he holds so dear.
But instead of doing any of that, his body betrays him, and before he can stop himself, he’s leaning forward again, peeking through the gap in the door for the second time. Mydei is biting down on the mantle now, clawing into the fabric as more slick trickles out of his abused hole, and Phainon presses his palm against his tenting erection, moaning as quietly as possible.
“Fuck–” The pressure is so good, just a little more… His fingers reach for the zipper, undoing it with a loud metallic sound that makes him freeze.
It’s too risky. He is vaguely aware that he is standing in the middle of a public hallway, a corridor where any Kremnoan soldier could pass through and spot him spying on their prince’s moment of need, cock in his fist out in the open like the shameless and deranged alpha the Kremnoans already claim he is.
But he can’t move. His boots feel glued to the floor. His mind is completely plagued by the sweetness of Mydei’s scent and the sight of him, fucking himself stupid on a fake cock as he begs for it to be Phainon’s.
“Yes–ah! Phainon, please!”
Fuck it.
Driven by pure, unadulterated instinct, Phainon reaches into his underwear with a trembling hand, pulling his aching length free of his trousers right there in the middle of the hallway. The cool air hits his hot length, but it provides him no relief. How can it when the sight beyond the door is the hottest he has ever seen?
He gathers enough saliva to spit into his palm; an act of habit, pointless with how much precum he’s leaking already, and wraps his calloused fingers around the inflated base, canines digging into his lower lip so hard he can taste blood.
Phainon leans his forehead on the doorframe, eyes glued to the Kremnoan prince through the gap, watching his soft, round ass swallow the toy more and more with each thrust.
“Mydei— fuck!” The moan slips out against his will, echoing too loudly in his ears, and he freezes, expecting Mydei to still, turn over, and call his name. A second passes, then another, the only sounds coming from within the room are the wet squelch of the slick-soaked silicone and the blond’s mewls of pleasure.
Mydei did not hear him.
Letting out a shaky exhale, Phainon bites down on his free palm and starts stroking his cock, matching the frantic rhythm of Mydei’s hips.
Every creak of the wooden bed, every broken whimper on the Kremnoan’s lips, every spike of his sweet scent when the toy hits just right drives Phainon deeper into a frenzy. He is jerking off like a mindless beast in rut, fucking into his fist in the middle of a corridor, filling the hallway with the pheromones of an aroused alpha. His chest heaves, inhaling as much of his soon-to-be-mate's sweetness as possible, all while listening to Mydei call his name, entirely unaware that the Alpha he is begging for is right outside the door…
“Alpha!”
Through the narrow opening, Phainon sees Mydei’s back arching into a beautiful crescent as he buries his face deeper into the mantle, inhaling the traces of his scent while forcing the thick silicone knot past his rim, the red ink across his back starting to glow brighter.
“Please, alpha… I want your pups—!”
Kephale above.
He picks up the pace, thumb swiping over the sensitive head, nail digging into the slit, before gliding down and clenching on his swelling knot. “Is that what you want, my perfect mate?” Phainon whispers, delirious, “Want me to breed you full? Swell your belly with my children?”
Every stroke of his fist feeds the visions flooding his mind.
Mydeimos, round with his pups, riding him, clumsy and desperate. His cute, tiny cock bounces uselessly and spurting cum over their chests as Phainon pulls orgasm after orgasm just by knotting his tight hole, pushing more of his seed into his omega’s already full womb.
Mydei on his knees, gagging so prettily around his thick knot, tears in his eyes but still looking up at him with sharp eyes, like it’s a challenge he refuses to lose.
Mydei on his back, legs spread wide, his pomegranate-sweet scent thickening with every thrust as Phainon whispers filthy promises of their future children against his flushed skin.
And then back to the present— Mydei on all fours just like this, ass up and begging so perfectly to be bred.
“Alpha… ple–ah–ase…” The omega’s plea is so desperate, so broken, that Phainon forces his eyes open—when did he close them?— a guttural groan ripping from his throat at the sight.
His omega is cumming, and what a vision he is like this. His body takes the silicone knot all the way to the base, cock leaking so much between his spread legs that Phainon can’t tell if it’s cum anymore. The marks over his body glow brighter and brighter with each shockwave until they dim back completely.
Mydei slumps down on the soiled mattress, pulling the fake cock out and mewling at the emptiness before rolling over onto his back, chest heaving. The mess of cum, sweat, and slick glistens across his trembling thighs and abdomen.
Phainon follows after two more strokes, teeth clamping over his knuckles to silence his whines. He tightens his fist, snaps his hips one last time, and stills, cock shooting thick ropes of cum over his fingers and down the floor, creating a pool of sticky evidence on the pristine marble. His knot swells once the last drop of cum dribbles from the slit, pulsing painfully in his palm, and Phainon slumps to the floor, barely avoiding the pool of his own mess.
He can’t tell how much time passes until he manages to even his breath, brought back to reality by the sounds of footsteps approaching down the hall. He tucks himself messily, not bothering to zip his pants before standing up, holding at the door for leverage as he tries to will his wobbly legs to move.
Maybe holding the door was a miscalculation on his part, a big mistake. Phainon’s eyes widen in horror, feeling the large stone move, opening further with a loud grind.
Mydei’s head snaps up at him, blinking like a deer at headlights as he scrambles to cover himself with the first piece of fabric he can reach. The blond sits up, the look on his face is of absolute horror once his warm ambers blink in focus, meeting Phainon’s equally surprised orbs.
“Deliverer? When did you—” His face flushes crimson, lips parted, Phainon’s mantle still clutched tightly in his fist.
Phainon rubs the back of his neck with his clean hand, looking down to his unzipped pants, his cum-covered fingers, and all the way to the entrance, where a drying pool of milky-white liquid reflects Kephale’s dawn at him. “Around the time you started begging for me to go harder?”
Mydei shrieks, actually shrieks, an uncharacteristically high-pitched sound for the stoic man.
And perhaps he is, perhaps he is the biggest pervert in the entire of Okhema for watching the man he has feelings for get off while jerking himself to the sight, but Mydeimos is no better. “Your scent turned sweeter, my dear Mydei. I think you quite enjoy the knowledge that I was watching you.”
“I do not.”
“Then why can I see your dick twitching?”
Mydei closes his legs with a weak whimper, tugging the blanket to cover more of his legs. “Shut up.”
Phainon grins, triumphant. This isn’t how he planned things to unfold, but if that’s what fate had decided… Who is he to argue when the outcome is still exactly what he wanted it to be?
He closes the door behind him, taking a large step into the room. “You’ll have to make me.”
“Get out!”
Phainon doesn’t stop. He takes one more step, rubbing his scent glands together until his own pheromones fill the room, his musk fitting perfectly with Mydei’s sweeter notes.
“Deliverer, I swear…!”
He reaches the edge of the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress.
“Swear what? I can smell how turned on you are,” he whispers right against Mydei’s ear, pulling the offending fabric away. Phainon ignores the snarl he receives in return, letting his eyes rake over his omega’s exposed body with no restraint, landing between his legs, where his hole flutters weakly, still gaping from the large intrusion.
“Hey, what are you—!?”
He pays no mind to the growl either, bringing his clean palm to the leaking entrance, scooping a bit of slick before lifting the digits to his lips, moaning at the rich taste, “So, how about I give you what you’ve been asking for?”
The shudder that wracks Mydei’s entire body is enough of an answer, and so is the trickle of fresh slick.
Phainon’s gaze darkens.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll breed you full of my pups like you begged.”