амега (peterick)

quatorze.

"Are you ok?" I ask Patrick as I sit down next to him on the couch. He's been sat here staring into space for the last twenty minutes, refusing to say anything, adamant to even accept the glass of water I'd offered him ten minutes ago.

He sticks his tongue out between his teeth and bites down on the nib, nodding. "I am now."

"Hey," I say. I curl my arm around his shoulders and he leans into my chest gratefully, releasing a tired, exasperated sigh. "Talk to me. What was that back there?"

"It was nothing," he murmurs. "I'm just not used to being around so many Alphas all at once."

"What do you mean? That place is packed with Alphas."

He swings his legs up onto the couch, tucking them underneath himself so he can sit up properly when he talks to me. I remove my arm from around his back and do the same, crossing my legs like a child in Kindergarten waiting to be dismissed for recess. "The ones who watch me dance are different. I act for them. It's easier to block them out that way. Except when they try to touch me." He glances away from me ashamedly, scratching his palms vigorously with his nails. "Only you're allowed to do that," he says quietly.

He's thinking about Leo, though he's too embarrassed to admit it. I don't care. I'm past feeling envious for the other Alpha; the Bond rulebook says he can't have Patrick, and he won't have him. That's just that. On second thought, I don't trust him, not a bit. I don't believe he's a terrible person, necessarily, I just rather he hadn't been so eager to join our friend group.

"Do you love me?" Patrick asks out of the blue.

I startle, unsure how to respond. I'm pretty sure we went over this already. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I do," I manage. My eyebrows crease with confusion.

"But want and love aren't the same thing," he remarks matter-of-factly.

"Well, in that case, I feel both of those things for you."

"I don't believe you."

"What?"

He sighs and looks away. "Never mind. I'm pushing us too fast..."

"No," I blurt. I catch his cheek with my fingers and pull his face back. "That's not true."

"Then say it. Tell me you love me for real." I open my mouth and shake my head about the room, half expectant to spot someone who might be able to help me out. But there is nobody. It's just me. Why is it so difficult to admit the truth? Patrick glares at me with a forlorn look of disappointment. "See? It's not the right time," he says. He drops his gaze to look at his fidgeting fingers. "I'm sorry."

I lurch closer to him, gripping his hands in mine and pulling them into my chest. His eyes are big and round, and the inner edges of his eyebrows droop sharply toward the bridge of his nose. I've never seen a boy look so sad. "Maybe I don't know how to say it with words," I utter. I wet my lips with my tongue. "But I can show you."

He inspects me thoughtfully before replying. "How?"

Slowly, I uncross my legs and fold them underneath my backside, not once letting go of Patrick's hands as I ease him onto his back against the white leather of the couch.

When our mouths meet, uncertainty becomes love.

It feels exactly the same as it had felt the first time, and every time after that, but brand new, as if I'm touching his skin and hearing his breath for the very first time. On paper, when people kiss, they seem to forget about physical feeling; to them, it's all about the rest of the world becoming invisible, and the tingling electricity, and the oceans swirling within their irises. They forget about heat and moisture and friction. They forget to really feel.

And love becomes lust. We're kissing, and Patrick is whimpering, writhing, and my fingers are pawing at his clothes, asking for permission to take them off. The sound of ripping paper fills my ears as his gown tears at the sleeve. I drag my my hand from his neck to his breast, pushing my fingers underneath the wire of his bra and rubbing vicious circles over his pointed nipples, while simultaneously, my non-dominant hand dips into his underwear to seize his erection. His lips snap open and his hips incline. My nose clips his teeth as he chokes out. "Wait..."

I cease all movement, but I don't break contact. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." He wriggles uncomfortably beneath my weight. "Just... Here? Now? Are you sure?"

"Would you rather we go up to the bedroom?"

"No, no... I need you now," he pleads, nodding surely. "I want you now."

Without further delay, my hands move to unbuckle my jeans, all the while Patrick preoccupies himself sliding my shirt up and over my head. After I've kicked my pants onto the floor, leaving me in just my boxers, I dive toward the Omega and attach my lips to his neck, sucking an additional bruise into his Bond mark before pulling back to catch my breath. "Patrick, I need you to tell me that you're absolutely ready for this," I say. "I know we haven't been taking suppressants as much recently, and I don't know if I'll be able to withdraw in time-"

"I know the risk," he interrupts. "I'll take them straight after. I promise."

"Ok," I mutter. I'm assuring myself more-so than him. It can't be more than a few days since our last fix. The effects of the contraceptive can last for days at a time; as long as we're cautious, and keep an eye on the aftereffects of the knot, he should be fine. He isn't currently on heat, either, so his eggs are unlikely to be at their most fertile. Still, we have to be careful.

Patrick draws in a long, sharp breath. "Ok. I'm ready now."

I nod, my mind clouding over with lust once again.

In preparation for sex, Omegas usually self-lubricate when they're on their heat, but, to be fair, it doesn't really matter a whole lot if they aren't; if the Omega is aroused, chances are they will probably self-lubricate, anyway, which is a plus for me, because I don't have to waste any time digging around for an alternative.

It's surprisingly really easy. The boxers and panties are pulled down, and it slips right in with little force. I'd have laughed out loud, if it weren't for the mass explosion of nerves running up and down my cock. I don't know why I'd felt so nervous before; I'd had to face the fact that this was going to happen, one day. I guess that one day is today.

Patrick's moans are like music. His legs are open as wide as they can go, the left practically draping over the back of the couch as I slam my naked body repeatedly against his. Uncannily, I catch myself wondering if this is his first time as well as mine. Sure, we've sucked each other off a considerable amount, but the Omega looks far too innocent on the surface to have actually done it. Then again, he is a stripper, renown for his ability to sell sex, and I'm well aware from an audience perspective that Patrick in particular is very good at his job.

The image of Patrick being fucked by an Alpha who isn't me sends me over the edge, and I growl harshly, but the autonomous aggression only succeeds in turning me on further, and so I begin to move my hips faster. Patrick wails in response, his back arching savagely toward the ceiling; he desperately wants to be touched. I grant him permission wordlessly, and immediately he reaches his hands downward to play with himself. I know I keep on about the importance of physicality, but at this point I've become so overwhelmed with pleasure, every receptor in my body has gone numb, and I can barely see, nor hear a sound.

And it feels brilliant.

Soon, my tip is expanding and locking into place inside him. Seconds later, I'm spilling my load.

The ultimate apex of sex is like waiting for a stubborn sneeze. Supposedly, the expression you make when you're about to sneeze isn't unlike the one you make when you orgasm; this is the same expression on Patrick's face moments before he reaches his own climax. "Thank you, Alpha," he gasps as he comes, nuzzling his flushed face into my chest as we ride out our highs. He's shivering.

"Suppressants, bath, and bed, I think," I say to him with a wry grin. He nods in agreement, his eyelids wilting, struggling to stay open.

I feel satisfyingly accomplished, as if, for the first time, I haven't been picked last in gym class.

We'll be sleeping well tonight.