Sweet Dreams - Book 3

Two

Everyone knows that heats are painful - it's basic 101 ABO Sex Ed class krub. Gulf could still hear his high school teacher's words now, the drawling old dinosaur listing the undesirable symptoms to strike fear into the hearts and groins of every student in the classroom:

Fever
Chills
Headache
Vertigo
Delirium
Muscle pain
Abdominal cramps
Intensified, continual release of pheromones
Physical hypersensitivity

Oh...and the uncontrollable sexual urges, nesting instincts, need to be submissive, and one track physical and mental drive to fall pregnant.

'Sounds fucking delightful', had been teenage Gulf's thought. Aieee, indeed, what a prospect for those young omegas.

Had Gulf's own heat, now at twenty five years old, been further amplified by years of uninterrupted cycle blocker and scent suppressant medication, or the fact that both men had - on (Dr) P'Min's advice - been prescribed an unusually high dosage? He had only passed through two heats as a youngster, very quickly deciding that this was most certainly not an experience that he was prepared to endure every three months for the rest of his life.

Even more than the physical agony, he hated the loss of both self control, and control of the situation he would be in. His self preservation instinct, that 'fight or flight' reptilian brain that the omega was so well acquainted with, simply couldn't reconcile with that at all. He hadn't yet known Mew - hadn't yet trusted another with all of his heart.

But now, his alpha would always protect him, would always put his well-being first. The omega heart, and the human heart, knew that well. Mew's strong arms would be around Gulf in this lifetime and the next, physically and metaphorically. So to get what he wanted now, the younger man knew that, just this time, he would have to relinquish some of that control. But only to his Mew.

To have his Mew's baby.

Just the thought of it - even just the words - made his whole body blush with a glowing, sweet sort of warmth. As if floating, star-fished on his back, on the gentle, lapping waves of a temperate, turquoise ocean. Or lying amongst the wildflowers of a sun-dappled meadow, honeybees buzzing and butterflies fluttering above him in pirouettes about the air, slow motion poetry.

This was his pure love. Not very 'Gulf' - but Mew's Gulf was different.

It had been about a year earlier - around the time that the pair had finally marked and claimed one another as mates - that the yearning to breed had first started to invade his thoughts (or heart? Or cock?). It was disconcerting. He never felt he had that so-called 'maternal' instinct that omegas were supposedly built with. But then again, Gulf loudly theorised that much of all that was mere self-fulfilling prophecy and centuries of hierarchical societal propaganda, wrapped up in a cheap disguise of 'science'.

Did omegas really all exist only to have babies...or did they typically centre their lives around family making because it's what society pronounced they were good at - telling them over and over again that that's what they really wanted for themselves?

In those months after the first niggle of the idea, Gulf had found himself...watching fondly, head cocked to one side, as groups of children played nearby in the park. His almond eyes creasing tenderly at any baby who approached in a pushchair on his side of the pavement as he walked into work each day. He fantasised constantly about Mew's seed filling his hole, impregnating him. About drifting his hands gently across a swollen, rising, belly. About holding their baby in his arms and looking into its eyes for the first time, seeing the universe reflected back at him.

'Or not. Whatever' he would bristle at himself, irritated by this sudden perceived dependence on another to fulfill his dreams.

But it was a shared dream. These mates shared every dream after all. And so the omega would soften as his heart reminded him that he didn't have to fight the world anymore - there was nothing to fear now. And he would allow himself to return to his daydreams of fluff and rainbows and babies and love.

//

And on this night...

Gulf clung desperately to these daydreams as he groaned and shuddered, eyes haunted, on the damp sheets of their bed - Kaownah doing his best to soothe his brother's body with a heated cloth and words of gentle encouragement.

And Mew clung to these same daydreams as he raced through the darkness, chasing the sun via the wings of an aeroplane to return to the side of his beloved mate. Racing to be there with him, to love away the pain - to fuck away the pain. To give him what he needed.