Well Bred by Moonlight
He woke to pain.
And a hard dick in his ass.
For a while that was all he knew, just that bitter length glowing like a rod of hot iron at the core of his being, scorching all around it, bathing him from the inside out in liquid fire, while he quaked with the agony of being alive.
Then, slowly, one by one, the other parts of his pulverised form lit up. He probed them as they came back online, his fingers feeling like the crude putty digits of a clay figure. But after a fucking like that, he had to make sure everything was still attached.
Where is my neck. Neck is still there. Neck is—Holy Christ!
Did I just come from touching my—moving on.
Head—hurts like a dddnnnhggfflkarghghfuckingBITCH but still on.
Face: ow.
Nose: bleeding, but that's fine, nobody ever died from a nosebleed. I hope.
Arms, legs, hands, feet, check.
Dick—nope, no thank you, not interested in any of that mess. Imma pretend you don't exist and somebody just glued a chilli pepper or a burnt-out firecracker to my balls.
Ass. Ass.
`Oh, Je-sus', he wailed. `Oh God, please, no, God, Jesus Christ!'
His pelvis and the area around felt approximately like he'd bodyslammed a concrete floor. Repeatedly. From a hundred feet up.
And Ash was still inside him.
But apparently he wasn't dead. Rowan didn't even know whether to be happy about that anymore.
`Hey. Hey, ssshhh, stop that.'
It took him a while to recognise the voice. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd heard it. But it was Ash. Ash was speaking.
Rowan opened his eyes.
Ash was holding out a scrap of what had once upon a time been a rather expensive pair of Lupi's.
`Sorry about your nose.'
He sounded awkward, because he was a teenage boy and not used to taking care of people. Rowan felt awkward, because he wasn't used to being taken care of by a teenage boy not used to taking care of people. And also because his best friend had just fucked and knotted him up the ass.
He took the piece of ragged denim and held it over his nose. His nose. Yeah, that was what Ash needed to be sorry for. It wasn't as though it was good for anything, anyway.
Although, now he thought that, there was something, a whiff of something metallic. It was faint, but it was there. But it couldn't be. That wasn't possible.
But who knew what was possible after tonight?
He glanced at Ash, more than half-afraid the scent of blood might set him off again.
No sooner had this occurred to him then Ash leaned forward, his mouth open...
...and kissed under Rowan's jaw. When he pulled away his mouth was smeared red.
Rowan put his hand gingerly to his neck to feel the—
`Don't touch it.'
Rowan jerked his hand down, flinching from the snap of Ash's voice like it was the crack of a whip. And it wasn't just the tone. Something had been awakened in him that responded as instinctually to a command from Ash (from his alpha, it breathed rapturously) as a well-trained dog, before Rowan even had a chance to choose.
It was so freaky it was another thing he couldn't even think about, so he decided to just pretend it hadn't happened (shoving everything he'd ever read or heard about alphas and what they could do to their mates as far back in his head as it'd go, beating it back there with all the facts he'd filed away as morbidly interesting but never applied to him, and which now crowded forward, clamouring to be recalled).
Ash looked abashed, though still a little angry. `It needs to heal. My spit helps. I—I read that.'
He leant in to kiss Rowan's neck again—or not really kiss it exactly, more slobber all over it like a dog. And, after all, he was right. It did hurt less when his mouth was on it. Maybe that was just because it also made Rowan's cock lift.
Ash pulled away. It was only now Rowan registered he was sitting in Ash's lap, facing his chest. He must have turned him around on his dick again. Rowan gazed up at the boy who used to be his friend, feeling as lost as when he was running for his life through the woods.
Above the corn-gold crown of Ash's hair the sky was the black of deepest night and the moon was swathed in cloud but somehow Rowan could see him almost as clearly as if it were day. His eyes were brown again.
`Why did you stop, dude?' Ash asked quietly.
There was silence for a little bit. Then Rowan answered, in an equally wan voice, 'You were hurting yourself.'
Silence once more. Then Ash sighed. `Well, it's done. You're my mate now.'
`Wait, what?
`You heard.'
`What the fuck do you mean "your mate"? I—bro, if you think—'
`It's not a fucking question. It's done.'
Rowan's eyesockets stretched so wide he felt as if his eyes were about to tumble out. `How can you say that?' His voice actually broke as he said it, for the first time in years, but his head was whirling too fast for him to feel embarrassed. `If you think I'm gonna be your bitch—'
`Can you get away?
Once more there were actual, legit tears in his eyes. `Bro...'
Ash sighed, frustrated and apologetic and upset all at once. He reached out to Rowan. The touch was familiar, but the meaning behind it could not have been more altered. Rowan recoiled as if Ash's fingers were worms, but being stuck on his cock, he couldn't recoil very far, and mostly ended up slumped awkwardly on his back, his ass still locked to Ash's crotch.
Ash moved with him, over him, pinning his knees up on his chest, cock burrowing deep, jostling at his cum-bloated belly. There was a little bit of give now, just the tiniest bit around his knot, and as he spoke he started to sorta-kinda fuck him again, pulling out and driving in as far as he could (and the fucking strain this put on Rowan's poor hole was just indescribable).
`I won't treat you bad, Rowan. I'll be good to you. I'll—mhh, fuck—take care of you, you'll see. I'll provide for you and our pups.'
He carried on like this, talking his strange sweet talk all the while he was audibly getting off into Rowan's ass and Rowan's head was spinning and spinning around that one word: pups!
`What the fuck are you talking about?'
`You're an omega.'
`Fuck off.'
`You are, dude
`Dude, I think I would know if I were a fricking omega, okay.'
`I think I would know because I'm knot-deep in your pussy.'
`Don't call it a pussy it's not a pussy you fucking retarded motherfucking ahhhhh!'
Ash shoved viciously forward with his hips and Rowan came again though no one, to his recollection, had touched his dick all night.
Ash quirked a shit-eating eyebrow but Rowan kept his mouth shut, trying to calm his breathing, trying not to make any (more) embarrassing sounds.
Ash snorted. `Whatever. You'll believe me in twelve months.'
Pups.
`I don't feel like an omega', Rowan said in a smaller voice.
Ash looked thoughtful, then a dumb smirk slipped across his face. He massaged Rowan's belly around the wide girth of his prick and it hurt but also...did things to Rowan he'd never even imagined. Too strange to be called arousal; a dry emptiness in his gut like all his organs were being sucked out; like the drop before you vomited, except whatever was coming was coming out through his cock.
`You feel pretty cunty from where I'm laying', Ash said.
`It's lying, actually, bitch.'
`Nope, that's you.'
`Fuck you.'
`Already am.'
`Urgghhh, God!'
`That's okay, I'll answer to "lord and master".'
Rowan felt a smile force itself through his outrage. `When the hell did you become the one with the obnoxious sense of humour?'
He scrutinised his best friend, who appeared sly and self-confident in a way Rowan had never seen him, could never even have imagined before. It was almost like he'd grown a whole new dickish personality along with his ridiculous jumbo-cock.
`Guess you rubbed off on me.' And the fucking motherfucker stroked Rowan's dick as he said it, but Rowan wasn't going to come, not fucking again, oh no sirree, not from one fucking touch—and goddamnit.
Ash laughed and dragged his fingers up Rowan's dick as though he was squeezing toothpaste out of the tube, then flicked them ostentatiously at a nearby bush.
It didn't help that in the aftershocks of his climax his categorically-NOT-a-pussy spasmed and contracted all up and down Ash's cock, absolutely not deliberately, and Rowan was reminded once again just how big the thing lodged inside him was. How hard it was and that all the time they were speaking it was still fucking ejaculating. If he looked closely he would swear he saw a ripple in his flesh around the mound of Ash's head each time he spewed out another juicy wad.
It was seriously sending him out of his mind. He made a moan that would have been shameful coming out of a pornstar and Ash looked at him all smirky and fuck-yeah, bitch, moan on my dick and Rowan narrowed his eyes at him.
`Don't you fucking look at me like that, motherfucker.'
Ash raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.
Rowan prodded his stupid hot unearned abs with his big toe. `Seriously, when did you become such a smug prick?'
`When did you become such a cranky bitch?'
`Ah, that would be about the time you shoved your disgusting dog penis in my butt.'
`Well, I guess I can't argue with that. It is what happened.'
And—well. Rowan couldn't argue either.
It was so difficult to maintain his attitude of disgruntlement when they could both feel how much Rowan—or certain parts of him, at least--loved this. His length was sandwiched between their bodies, the heat and firmness, the spongy tip abraded by the rippling muscled hills of Ash's torso, shooting fire into his groin every time he breathed.
Ash had that smirk again. `Damn, disgusting, huh? So how disgusting would it be if you had a big fat nut on my disgusting dog-dick?'
Oh, no, not again, Rowan whimpered internally, but with little hope. The sheer girth of Ash's prick made it a constant pressure on his prostate. Every movement either of them made reminded him of it, sent shivers up his prick.
He could actually feel his own tightness; he could feel himself gripping Ash's shaft; coiling and squeezing around it, virtually stroking it, but it was entirely involuntary.
And underneath the stimulation and satisfaction and bone-deep rightness of it all, there was still pain, a deep, raw agony, that came from having his ass split open without lube or prior preparation by a cock bigger than his forearm.
His brain was already calculating how many blowjobs he would have to dish out on a daily basis to keep from having that thing in his ass again, because omega anatomy or no, he could not imagine this ever being other than torturous. His hole was just too tiny! Even if it was technically a vagina now. Or had one inside it or however the fuck this supposedly worked. He still wasn't convinced. But he guessed Ash was right--time would tell.
`I'm too young to be a mommy', he sniffled.
Ash guffawed and slapped playfully at his belly. `You'll get the hang of it, baby. Imma give you plenty of practice.'
Rowan shook his head in denial but Ash grabbed his jaw. His nails, which were still sharp, sunk into the soft skin of his neck, adding yet more points of pain to the constellations of shallow cuts that smarted all over his body. He held Rowan like that, broad chest heaving, hot, pheromone-heavy alpha breath puffing aggressively into Rowan's face, as his eyes bled dark, until he groaned and swore and let out a cumshot so violent and sustained it almost felt like a drill piercing the upper wall of Rowan's (womb) intestine. `You're gonna look so fucking hot carrying my litters. Gonna be fuckin huge. Fuck. Can't fuckin wait.'
Tears slid down Rowan's cheeks, and Ash lapped them up.
Ash pulled them under a large pine tree, whose low-hanging, wide-spread branches formed a protective canopy over them, their soft-fingered fringes of pine-needles patting Rowan's hair. Beyond their sheltering umbrella a soft rain was falling. He could no longer see the stars.
They sat together without speaking for a time, while Rowan cried and Ash came. Rowan's nose slowly dried up, though it still felt swollen and somehow out of place. But he couldn't really care. It wasn't as though he had anybody to impress with his looks anymore. No girl would so much as glance at him once she smelt what he was.
Speaking of which, there was definitely some action happening in his nostrils. As clogged as they were with blood and mucus, there wasn't much that could get through, but—cum. He could definitely smell cum. He could smell.
He craned his head down toward his belly. Was it coming from inside him?
He regarded Ash, leaning back against the rough bark with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed, chest slowly rising and falling, steady as the swelling of waves to the shore, each one carrying more of his quickening seed up through his fuckrod into Rowan, hiding it away in his most secret places.
And a quiet, poignant feeling came over him, one he was half-ashamed of now, knowing what it was. That feeling from before in the woods when he had looked at Ash and wanted to kiss him. Maybe in some supernatural way he had brought this upon himself, the thing he had not realised he wanted till it was thrust unwillingly upon him.
He rested his hand at the base of Ash's pelvis, the place where they were joined, where the life was flowing into him from Ash's bottomless well. He nearly fancied he could feel it running under his fingers.
`Man, I would have thought if we were gonna be an alpha an omega, I woulda been the alpha for sure.'
Ash opened his eyes, unhurriedly, and smiled. `You reckon?'
`Yeah. No question, dude.'
`So you've thought about it.'
`No-o. Bet you have, though.'
`Yeah. I've fuckin thought about it. Thought about you.'
And the glint in his eyes left no question as to exactly what he had thought about Rowan.
`You fucking weirdo asshole pervert.'
`Tell you what', Ash said, putting his hands on Rowan's hips and grunting, hips jerking up as he shot out a particularly substantial load, `You're gonna have to clean up that potty-mouth of yours.'
'Says who, bitch?'
'Says this dick, bitch.'
And to emphasise his point, Ash flexed it, hard. It felt as if it was trying to tear itself out of Rowan's stomach. He still came in a sloppy mess all over his belly.
Ash leaned into Rowan's face, lips curling back to show the sharpness of his canines as he grinned. His eyes had returned to their normal placid brown, but they had a savage, seminal reek to them. And still a hint of gold behind the iris, like a saint's halo, shining just out of mortal sight. 'You're my mate now. Gonna wear nice skirts and do your hair up all pretty. Gonna be my good little cunt. Imma have you so cock-whipped you'll be cross-eyed.'
Whatever Rowan could have said in reply to this halted on his tongue, remembering how Ash had hunted him down in the forest, remembering his strength and claws and cock. Remembering it had taken all of five minutes for Ash to catch him.
His closed his eyes, the better to grapple with the surge of panic that was climbing up his throat. He breathed in, and it was better. His mate was there, with him and in him and his scent stifled Rowan's fear.
While Ash may have been the source of the utter meltdown Rowan's rational brain was currently undergoing, that dumb critter part of him also recognised him as the only source of comfort and safety, the only one that could make things better. Ash wouldn't hurt Rowan so long as Rowan didn't run. So long as Rowan gave Ash what he wanted, he was safe.
For a while they both dozed off. Rowan dipped in and out of consciousness, surfing the mild coastal waters of the ocean of sleep. It was cold out, but Rowan was warm. It was dark, but Rowan could see, not quite as clear as day, but better than even the brightest moon should have permitted. His nose was broken, yet at the same time it seemed, somehow, magically, to be healed, because he could smell their mingled scent, and the sex they had just had and were technically still having, and the damp earth and the clean, faintly chemical fragrance of the pines. And—
Rowan lifted his head off Ash's chest and sniffed.
Something was happening. Happening inside him. Something very, very wrong.
'Dude, the fuck?' His voice cracked again as he met Ash's startled gaze.
For a moment they looked at each other. There was no mistaking it. Ash was relieving himself inside Rowan's belly.
`Oh', Ash said.
`Oh?', Rowan gasped, eyes bugging so far out they legitimately hurt.
`Sorry. I didn't mean to.' Ash sounded embarrassed but also like he didn't really regret it
'Didn't mean t—fucking stop!'
`I can't!'
`What do you mean, you can't?'
`I can't once it's going! I'm sorry, dude, you're just gonna have to take it. It won't fuckin kill you.'
`Fuck you.'
If Ash's cum was comfortably warm, the fluid that was now rushing into him was scalding in the chill night air. He was surprised there wasn't steam rising off his belly, which was now definitely, noticeably distended.
And Ash was taking a long piss.
`Jesus Christ!' Rowan was not used to being this worked up. He wasn't that kind of guy. He was known as a laid-back dude. But this is so fucking beyond anything he had ever contemplated. This son of a bitch was taking a fucking leak inside his fucking ass!
He glared at Ash, absolutely seething, even as his stomach seethed and swelled with teenage urine. `You dirty motherfucker.'
Ash glared back. `I said sorry, now shut it!'
'You—'
Ash clapped a hand over his mouth, making his nose throb with pain. At the same time he groaned and pulled himself out, with a sting and a pop and a sudden emptiness that felt like Rowan didn't even know what.
Ash's hand lifted away and Rowan parted his lips to cuss him out...
...and got a steaming mouthful of piss.
`Pfuh!'
It tasted like a pretzel. A really, really salty pretzel.
Ash said nothing, just stared down at him grimly, resolutely directing the stream at his face while Rowan squinted and writhed and gagged, until finally it dripped down over his mouth and chin and petered out on his chest.
`Dude', Rowan spluttered, `you need to drink more water!'
Initially it wasn't so bad, but there was an acrid, unclean aftertaste like essence of dirty briefs that loitered interminably on his tongue, no matter how much he swallowed and spat.
`I am going to murder you', he ground out. Then, `Ugh, God, I've got to get this taste out of my mouth.'
He cast about, stupidly expecting to find a bottle of water or that Lupinade shit the alphas were always chugging, but of course there wasn't anything.
Ash was watching him, clearly trying so hard not to laugh and, Rowan supposed he had to give him credit it for trying. Still would have beat his ass if he hadn't felt like a human-sized blobfish.
`Well, I could, y'know, bust off in there for ya.'
`Why the fuck would I want that?' Rowan spat.
`To get rid of the taste.'
`The taste of cum isn't better! I need water!'
Ash shrugged and kneaded prickishly at his cock. `Sorry, dude. The best I can do is cum. That's the only other beverage on offer.' Then a look of panic came into his gloating eyes. `Oh shit. Cum. What if it washes out the cum?'
And indeed, there was a slow but steady waterfall of oozy white-and-yellow nastiness washing out of the wide-open fuckhole that had previously been his anus, now Ash's near-football-sized knot was no longer plugging it shut. Rowan had never felt so filthy in his life, and that included the time he fell into a septic tank. He clapped his legs together, but that just made it squelch between his thighs and get even more of him sticky and stinky and gross. And dear God his hole burned.
Ash jumped away somewhere, and came back a second later holding the fucking deodorant can, and before Rowan could ask just what he intended to do with that, he rammed the whole thing right up Rowan's bunghole.
Rowan made a noise like he'd been punched in the gut, which is roughly how it felt, then shrieked, `Youtakethatoutofmyassrightthissecond!'
He tried to squeeze it out using his assmuscles, but that just made him almost cum again.
Ash, the prick, giggled as he watched him squirm and claw between his thighs. `Maybe you should leave it in there, bro, your cunt probably kinda stinks.'
`Ash!'
Ash sighed, though he had a smile on his face. `Fine, jeez.'
And, as abruptly as he had shoved it in, he ripped the deodorant can out of Rowan's asshole and replaced it with his dick.
`I didn't say to fuck me!'
Ash shrugged, resting his forearms on Rowan's shoulders as his hips pumped away, and Rowan cursed and thumped at his back with his fists and at his ass with his heels, both punishing him and preventing him from pulling out, even if he'd wanted to. Which he very much did not.
Ash was slightly soft when he slid in again, but only slightly, and he soon worked himself back to cunt-busting, spine-snapping, lung-popping hardness in the snug slick sheath of Rowan's boycunt, and then to a second knot. It came on even faster than the first one, and fit in so much easier and—it couldn't be true—but it felt even bigger, the size of a fucking basketball. Maybe it was just because Rowan's hole was so sore and swollen. Though by this time there was so much liquid in Rowan that a sloppy cocktail of cum and piss spilled out even around the insane tightness of his knot as Ash fucked in furiously, feeling somehow, stupefyingly, like he was gouging out yet more cuntspace inside Rowan's guts, stirring up the sopping cauldron of his womb with his stiff monster-prick.
And boy could Rowan could Rowan ever smell the sex now. He wasn't even sure if he was glad to have his sense of smell back. Cum and piss both had rather distinctive odours in their own right, but alpha cum and alpha piss were so much stronger, and mixed in a way that left Rowan physically dizzy. Though that might just have been from having his brains nearly fucked out of his skull. Or all the loss of fluids from jizzing so much (as he'd come to expect, he'd peaked several times, but he'd decided he wasn't even going to take any notice of that anymore).
Once Rowan was firmly settled on Ash's knot and they'd both calmed down a little, Rowan grizzled and bitched while Ash shuffled over the ground (clutching Rowan against him with one hand, but leaving him supported mostly on the sturdy spar of his manhood), gathering up the rags that were all that was left of Rowan's clothes and using them to wipe him off as best he could. Ash's smell was still thick on him, though, clinging to him like an almost tangible weight, and Ash didn't even try to look like he didn't love that. Rowan supposed he could have had it worse. He'd heard some alphas pissed in their omegas as a matter of course, a more palpable form of claiming. Some alphas made their omegas shower and bathe in it, didn't let them drink anything else.
In the comparative quiet that now enfolded them, for the first time Rowan registered something new, something he had almost forgotten existed. People. Other people. There were voices, human voices, coming from somewhere in the forest. They weren't that far off, or at least they didn't sound it. Could he hear better now, too?
Rowan looked at his watch, which was somehow still on his wrist, but which he hadn't thought to consult before, in those hours when time had felt suspended and Ash had been his only world.
Oh, yeah, it was well past curfew. Of course everyone would be looking for them.
His phone, now he remembered to check for it, was—well, fuck knew where it was. Somewhere in the woods. He didn't even care. Lot of fuckin help it had been.
He was now torn between desperately wanting to see someone who wasn't an insane horny werewolf and not wanting his teachers or any of his classmates to see him naked and squirting on a dude's dick.
Ash, still groaning in satisfaction as he rocked his pelvis into Rowan's ass, did not appear to care either way.
`Ash, you've gotta get out of me. There's people looking for us.'
Ash grinned, and was definitely grinding into him deliberately. `How many times do you reckon I can knot you before they find us?'
`How many seconds do you reckon you can live once I rip that fucking knot off your dick?'
Ash hooted and fired off a spurt of come so forcefully Rowan could feel it splashing against the wall of his womb. It actually felt like an insult.
`You know what I'm gonna enjoy most about us being mated? One of the things anyway.' He looked at Rowan, bright-eyed and smiling, as if the fucker actually expected an answer. `Fucking you in public. I'm gonna fuck you everywhere, dude; in front of so many people. In front of everyone—your fuckin stuck-up friends, the teachers.' He paused and licked his lips, as if savouring this next one. `Your parents—'
`Oh my God shut the fuck up. I just—I—you better be kidding, you are such a...'
His indignation tied his tongue into a quavering knot as Ash just about choked himself laughing, every heave of his chest vibrating through into Rowan's body as well.
Could he really just wrench himself off and walk (waddle) away?
He imagined Ash lumbering after him, stupid huge rapist dick waggling between his stupid taut muscular thighs and Rowan drop-kicking him right between them, right in the never-ending sperm-factories of his nuts, then doing it again right in his stupid pointy dog-teeth.
But this wasn't a movie, and Rowan, as the last few hours had starkly demonstrated, was no action hero. He was just a guy who wanted to have fun in his last year before graduation.
There would be no graduation, no college, no career. He was a mated bitch now.
Ash looked so normal. Normal in that he was a little odd the way most people were a little odd. Pretty much how he had looked before, except everything (including that thing) was still bigger. But no claws. No fur. No creepy glowing eyes.
But he could snap my neck like a toothpick. Pull all the flesh off my bones like meat off a kebab skewer. If he wanted to. There's nothing he could do to me that I could stop him doing. And I'm mated to that. Bound to it. For the rest of my life.
Nothing in Rowan's existence till this point had given him a reference for how deeply this freaked him out. He was in uncharted waters, deep black all the way to the bottom, and the only thing he had to hold on to, the only beacon and anchor, was Ash, who seemed weirdly okay with it all, and that was weird and he'd said it was something he'd thought about before but NOPE NOT GOING THERE but ultimately Rowan was almost sort-of okay that Ash was okay with it because one of them fucking had to be and it sure as fucking dogcunt wasn't Rowan.
His freaky not-freaked-out-ness was the only tether to some remnant of sanity that Rowan had.
Ash's wheezes subsided. He gently pinched Rowan's taint. `I can smell you're upset.'
So this was the famous pheromonal mood-scenting thing that Rowan had never really believed in. He tried it out, tentatively sniffing. `And I can smell you're...horny.'
Ash narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out between his teeth. Fucking shameless.
And Rowan was still excruciatingly hard, so he couldn't exactly talk.
There was a hot-cold flush under his skin like a fever. No girl, real or digital, that he'd seen had ever brought a response even close to that. He was actually appalled at how hot he found Ash in that moment, by how much he wanted to worship and please him.
Ash made another roll of his hips that sent his dick or knot or something bumping against that spot that sent Rowan's eyes spinning back in his skull. He fell forward on his face, bracing himself with on his elbows, one on the ground and one planted in the middle of Ash's chest, as he shuddered through the best/worst climax he'd had so far, and that was saying something.
He shook all through his body and felt as though every brain cell he had left was being ejected through his pisshole.
When he came back to himself Ash was kneading at his ass, slipping his fingers under his balls and playing with them, tracing a finger around the puffy inflamed edge of his hole, wearing a sappy expression like...
Like Rowan was some chick he was fingerbanging at the movies. Like Rowan was something he'd made, or something he owned.
That he was looking at him like that, pleased and proud and possessive, made Rowan angry again, and humiliated, and he barked out, `Stop fucking touching me.'
Ash's face went blank and hard and bright like a sheet of steel flashing in the sun. Before Rowan could take another breath, he swung for him.
Rowan caught his arm just in time. He could feel the powerful muscles in his forearm taut and trembling like a rope stretched to snapping point, feel how much Ash wanted to smack him into next century,
`Dude!"
Ash dropped his arm abruptly. He shook himself, looking confused. `I'm—I didn't...'
Instead of completing the thought he rolled over without warning, so he was on top and Rowan was on his back, trapped underneath. There was a horrendous tearing at his asshole, as if Ash's knot was about to rip out and take half of Rowan's intestines with it.
`Dude, you can't just do that. We're attached! In case you hadn't fucking noticed!'
`Stop shouting at me, Rowan. I'm sick of it.' Ash said this in a flat, not-fucking-around tone Rowan had heard him use on literally a handful of occasions, usually when he was genuinely, and severely, sick.
`I think I have a right to shout after what just—'
`You don't have any rights anymore, actually. Like, nothing. Legit nothing. And that's just a fact. So...'
Rowan didn't have any answer to that, since, while wolf-law was no special study of his, he knew enough to know Ash wasn't wrong.
`How do you—' He shook his head and pressed a hand to his brow, shaking his head like that would cool his overheating brain. `Did you know you were an alpha?'
Now it was Ash's turn to shake his head. 'You can't know that before it happens. But you can guess. There were signs. Which you, obviously, wouldn't notice. My dad was an alpha.'
`Your dad? You just told me he was...dead.'
Ash just looked at him
`I just. It's just.' Rowan swallowed heavily.
`I know. It's a lot to take in.' And little shit he was, Ash had the audacity to wiggle his prong inside Rowan and grin. `But I'm gonna help you, Rowan. I'll do whatever it takes for you to accept this. I love you so much.'
Oh shit. The L-bomb. That was the first time it'd come up. It somehow felt as intimate, even, in its own way, violating, as when Ash first slipped his dick in him.
He didn't know how to answer Ash, so he touched him instead, running his hand up Ash's stomach. `So, you were an alpha all this time.'
Ash shrugged, and his abs rippled under Rowan's fingertips. `Musta been.'
`But you didn't know it.'
`Nope.'
`Shit. And I was an omega. And I—somehow I never knew that, either.'
`I knew.'
`What? How?'
`Not that you were an omega. But that we were meant to be together.'
Rowan stared at him for a moment, mouth chewing on air like his ass on Ash's knot, before jerking out, `Bullshit.'
He made to drop his hand, but Ash held it where it was, on his navel, just above his crotch.
There were tears in Rowan's eyes again, and when his voice came out, it was faint and plaintive. `Were we ever best friends?'
Ash looked pensive. `You had so many friends, Rowan. And sometimes you could be...I never exactly knew what I meant to you.'
His eyes were calm and deeps as wells that went right to the earth's core, and though they had dimmed from that feral golden fire to their familiar warm brown, Rowan felt as trapped by them as he had when Ash had first pinned him under his cock.
`But you were always everything to me, Rowan.' He dug his hands into Rowan's cheeks, moulding his cuntflesh around his knot, making him bite his lip and breathe hard. His warm mate-scented breath puffed against Rowan's ear. `This just makes it official.'
Rowan shakily breathed out, then breathed in. And in. And in.
Christ, I'm like a fucking glue-sniffer, he thought. He could practically feel the braincells keeling over, clutching their throats, as he inhaled. He must look so fucking stoned. But he couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get enough of Ash.
Maybe it was just because tonight was the first time he was able to smell literally anything in nearly a decade, but it was completely overwhelming, in a way that almost drowned out his other senses, or at least made it hard to focus them. Overwhelming in a way that only left him thirsting for more. It was like all the cliches—a warm hug, though with a definite dose of hot dick in there; every bit of how Ash felt—or rather, smelt—toward him was unmistakeably sexual, there was no hiding from it. Clean linen...that was about to be dirtied with all their sex juices. A roaring fire...that they were fucking next to. Grandma's cookies...if they'd been laced with cum. Ok, maybe he should stop thinking in analogies. It was just Ash-scent. Mate-scent. Everything-is-okay-and-the-world-is-all-right scent. And he could happily drink it, eat it, bathe in it, for the rest of his life.
The rest of his life. Rest of his fucking life.
Ash licked along the line of his jaw, and under it, tickling his Adam's apple. `I'm gonna try to sleep', he said.
`You're gonna sleep?'
`Yeah. I'm pretty fucked-out, ya know?'
`Well, good for you. I'm glad you can fucking sleep at a time like this when I'm stuck on your cock with your jizz and piss inside me!'
`God, I wish I had another dick just to plug your fuckin mouth with.' Ash sat up, pulling Rowan along with him. He swung a leg around behind Rowan and settled it under the soft flesh of his buttocks, as if to keep him from slipping off while he was out. Then he closed his eyes.
It was cold, now the glow from the beer and adrenalin had both faded. The night pinpricked his prick like that thing where the girl put ice cubes in her mouth before she blew you. But there was a warmth inside Rowan, like his stomach had become a hot water bottle. Hot cum bottle, he grumbled internally. Cum and piss.
Ash was still fucking creaming. Even though he was unconscious those asinine balls of his were at work, churning out apparently endless rivers of babyjuice right into Rowan's innards. Rowan put his hands down in-between their coupled bodies to hold them, feel them pulsing.
It was disgusting. Absolutely disgusting and gross and pukeworthy and not the slightest bit arousing. Rowan glared at his dick, which actually had the temerity to twitch up a little whenever it felt Ash's dick throb and a heavy pulse of cum shoot up—whatever he had inside him now.
He and Ash had never fought, barely even quarrelled. Now they were more at odds than ever, estranged like they never had been since they met in first form, and at the same time tied together, literally and—what, spiritually? Biopsychically or however this fucking scent shit worked?
When he put his nose on Ash's neck and breathed in, it was there, a solid core in the middle of his scent, the psychic manifestation of his pheromones. Or maybe it was the other way around.
It's just a membrane, thin and translucent as an amniotic sac. And while he couldn't break through it, he could dimly make out what was happening on the other side, could feel Ash's emotions shift behind it, and press against him like—something pretty sexual, honestly. Like he was frotting Rowan's brain or heart or something. And Christ, wasn't that a mental image.
It wasn't the way pop culture made it seem, like as soon as the knot popped you were a mindless love-cum-cum zombie. The impulse was there but he could fight it. If he wanted to. And the more time went on the less he wanted to, and the stronger it got. And eventually Rowan would get tired and his guard would slip, but the bond would always be there, blazing like a beacon, and Ash would be there because Ash was his life now and it didn't really matter how he felt about it because that wasn't going to change.
He let his eyes fall closed, let his body relax against Ash's sturdy bulk, sink into his suffocating, grounding scent. Felt the pain and the pleasure wash over him, didn't try to fight either. The night was quiet now, and Ash's chest was firm and warm. Rowan noticed they were breathing in sync.
It was so much easier to just let go.
They were found fifteen minutes later.
He heard Ellis and Farrell, two betas Rowan hung out with when he wasn't with Ash (but never while Ash was with him; for some reason they didn't seem to like him) stumbling through the trees, bitching about the cold and the dark and the bugs and how there were probably frickin wolves in these woods, something had definitely been howling before, and they were both going to get eaten and why weren't the alphas doing this, anyway, couldn't they just smell where they were? They were throwing their flashlights around haphazardly, though Rowan could see them fine without one. He was about to call out, when he remembered exactly what position he was in.
He glanced down at Ash, who was wearing the faintly disapproving expression he always had when he was asleep.
Maybe if he milked Ash's knot really hard, he could force it to shrink? Could that work? And how long were these things supposed to last, anyway? He had a fuckin cramp in his gut from how much spunk was in there. He already looked like he was—nope, N-O-P nope, no sir, not going there, haha, God, just kill me.
`All your damn fault', he hissed at Ash. He reached awkwardly between their bodies to feel his nuts again. Were they lighter? How much could fucking be in there, anyway?
He had just discovered that by using a sort of rocking-circling hip-gyrating motion he could definitely make more come out, when there was a bright white light in his eyes, and he yelped.
The light dipped and Farrell and Ellis were standing there looking at him, eyebrows soaring skywards in tandem as he watched.
Farrell stared and said `Dude, where have you b—why are you naked?', at the same time as Ellis said, `We've been looking for you ev—why are you sitting on Ash?'
Then Farrell said, at a distinctly higher pitch, `Why is Ash naked?' and Ellis said, `Why are you sitting on Ash, naked?'
Rowan blinked back at them for a moment, then looked down at Ash, who still slumbered blisfully, fat dumb prick blithely squirting away in Rowan's (not-calling-it-a-womb) guts.
`Ask him.' He smacked his mate in the face. `Ash, wake the fuck up. You've got a lot of explaining to do.'
Then he shut his eyes. Ash wanted to take care of things? Well, he could start now, because fuck if Rowan was dealing with any of this.
`Is he... unconscious?', he heard Farrell ask.
Ash's voice, sleep-scratchy and exasperated. `He's not, he's just being a bitch.'
`Hey!' Rowan said, before he remembered he wasn't supposed to be awake.
At the same time Broden came up behind the two betas, loping in long unhurried strides, expression unconcerned and said, in his stoneslide rumble, `Thought I smelt a fresh whelp. Nice one, bro.'
He strode between the two betas, casually knocking them aside, and offered Ash a fist bump. Ash gave it to him with an easy grin.
Rowan was sure he'd never said so much as a word to Ash before today, but now just because he was an alpha they were part of a born brotherhood from which Rowan was automatically excluded.
Rowan gazed up at Broden, waiting for him to react to the betrayal that must be clearly readable on his face, but he never so much as glanced down at him or acknowledged his presence in any way.
He looked over at Elis and Farrell, but they were watching him with the kind of fascinated disgust people felt when they saw animals doing something gross like eating their own shit or mating in public and that—that wasn't better. They looked at him like they didn't even know him.
For some reason he felt like he owed them an apology. `Guys, I didn't—'
Just at that moment Ash's dick got real big real fast and Rowan's g-spot kinda went BOOM and his words became a garbled sob as his prickhead pulsed and spat several wet strings of nut over the ground between him and his former friends.
And if Ellis and Farell had seemed disgusted before, the way they were looking at him now was--
Rowan shut his eyes again, every cruel joke about omegas he'd ever told or laughed at echoing sadistically through his mind. The joke had been on him, all along. And Rowan--
He wasn't up to dealing with the weight of societal bullshit on top of the veritable dung-mountain of insane crap he'd had to put up with tonight. He was just going to sit here, perched on Ash's dick with his eyes closed and arms folded until he was a, inside, b, no longer naked, c, no longer stuffed up to the eyeballs with hot cummy cock. And then, and only then, would he acknowledge the world's existence.
And, luckily for him, Ash seemed happy to do all the talking on their behalves. Which was another big change from before, Rowan reflected, as he tried not to listen to the conversation that was going on over his head. It was the same as the whole alpha thing. Had it changed him, or brought out something that was always there?
He was brought out of his reverie by a sharp rap on his butt. He opened his eyes and saw Ash looking at him. `Hey. We're goin back now.'
`Oh.' Rowan glanced around and saw the others were walking back the way they came. He started to rise, then realised that, oh yeah, his rectum was still stuffed with a gazillion inches of Ash's fuckmeat. He kept forgetting, because by now it was hard to remember what it was like when his ass was empty.
`Are you not gonna, uhhh...'
Ash raised his eyebrows.
`Wait till the fuckin knot goes down.' Rowan tried to say it quietly, aware the others could probably still hear them, but his frustration was mounting again.
Ash shook his head. `Nah. It's okay. I can carry you, babe. I'm bigger now, remember.'
And he twitched his fucking jerkass cock inside him, as if Rowan needed the fucking reminder. Cocky fuckin asshole cunt. `Are you—'
`Wrap your legs around my waist and put your hands on my shoulders.'
A short staring contest (a glaring contest on Rowan's part) ensued, which Rowan, predictably, lost. He crossed his ankles behind Ash's back and looped his arms around his neck. `I swear to fucking Dyeus, if you drop me...'
Ash kissed him, a brief soft peck on the forehead. The press of dry, spongy, slightly chapped lips, chased with the minutest touch of wet tongue.
It was the first time he'd done that, and it shut Rowan up pretty good. Rowan had to think about it for a while; carried on thinking about it all through the long walk back to camp, during which Rowan held Ash tight, and Ash held him tighter, and bounced him up and down on his knot as he walked, and Rowan came so much he stopped counting the individual orgasms and just accepted that, yeah, all right, fucking fine, maybe he did have a pussy in his ass now, and even if that had some massive fucking downsides (the biggest of which he was absolutely not thinking about because it was NOT going to be an issue for him no matter what the newly-minted knothead said), it also had one or two advantages. The two being the two g-spots omega males famously had and which Rowan could definitely feel being stroked and prodded by Ash's enormous idiotic cock. He hoped there weren't bears in the woods, or regular wolves, because they were definitely leaving a trail. Even if there weren't, there'd probably be a whole line of horny alphas sniffing around outside their door come morning. Ash'd have to fight em all off. That might be fun to watch.
Whatever was going to happen in the morning, there was a whole fricking firing line waiting for them at the camp entrance that night, all wearing variations on the same stern disapproving teacher face. But when they saw (and the alphas smelt) Ash and Rowan, they stopped looking angry and started looking worried. Which would have worried Rowan, if he hadn't been too utterly fucking exhausted to care.
They were given a room to themselves until they separated, which didn't take long, though with all the nutmatter Rowan had slathered over both their torsos, it was like pulling apart two spunk-socks that had got common law married under the bed.
The room (which must have been meant for a teacher) had an ensuite shower, which Ash insisted they share. He didn't try to fuck Rowan in it, though, and in reward Rowan let him wash his body (and didn't even object when `washing' apparently included stuffing almost his whole hand up Rowan's ass). He even let Ash jerk off on him before the water ran out. He even slid a hand down his belly to scoop some up on his finger before it washed away, because sue him, he was curious. He'd only tasted his own once before, and that had been by accident. He'd been lying naked on his bed, thrusting up his hips as he fucked his lubed fist, and his mouth had been open to moan and—yeah. It hadn't tasted either bad or good, just a big ole mouthful of warm wet nothing.
But people always said alpha cum wasn't like normal cum: it wasn't just that it was thicker and there was way more of it, but it tasted different, too—sweeter, a little like a pudding. He'd even heard there were people who liked to eat alpha cum as a pudding; places you could go where you paid an alpha to jack off into your bowl and then ate it with a spoon.
He brought his finger to his mouth and suckled on it. Hmm. Not sweet, exactly. More sort of rich. Creamy. Nutty, appropriately. It actually tasted really good. And gave him a funny sort of feeling too, a tingling and a buzzing, almost like the first stages of being drunk or high. And wow did he want more. Okay, he was definitely going to have to make blowjobs part of their normal routine. And maybe a handjob to accompany each meal.
Maybe it was just the soothing effect of the hot water, but the turbulent waters inside him had gradually stilled since they had returned to camp. He wasn't resigned to it, not by a long shot. But, well.
He had to admit, he reflected, as he stepped out of the shower and started to towel off (flicking Ash between the legs with it when he tried to hook him back by the hole), it could have been worse. They could have not been friends, could have not known each other at all. And how awkward would that have been?
At least Rowan knew Ash, or had known him. It could have been some creep with no personal hygiene and a hundred outlandish fetishes, or a rich asshole alpha from an old wolf dynasty who would have resented being shackled to a nobody like Rowan and would have one hundred percent taken it out on him, or somebody really ugly or old, or someone who wanted to stick pins in his balls while he fucked him or even cut them off entirely, which he'd heard some really old-fashioned alphas did to their mates. Or one of those crazy wild alphas who lived in the woods all the time and hardly ever came out of their primal forms, and who probably never bathed and would have wanted to fuck Rowan while still wolfed-out and oh God, now that was truly a horrifying prospect.
It could have been so much worse.
And he supposed if he was going to be somebody's bitch, there really...
Wasn't anybody he would or could have chosen but Ash.
Rowan looked at the golden-haired, amber-eyed boy who currently had one leg braced up on the wall so he could simultaneously scratch and dry under his balls better, wearing a face like a constipated baboon, and felt his constrict with that old painful love, now tinged with a bitter ruefulness and a wistfulness like regret.
If he'd had the choice.
But you did, a cool pitiless voice reminded him. In the woods, when you turned back, you made your choice.
Ash had never been much for academics, and seemed to regard school staff as a kind of mildly toxic fungal outgrowth of the Redgrove campus, to be avoided as much as that was possible whilst still being at school.
Rowan, on the other hand, had been the pet of every teacher he'd had since preschool, and had had several long intellectual conversations with the headmaster, Mr Goodyer in his office which he couldn't remember the specifics of, but had left him floating on a high of Promise and Maturity and Ambition and all-round adultness and importance. It was Mr Goodyer who had recommended he apply to Branson.
Tonight, Mr Goodyer looked sad.
There was a short, awkward conversation, in the (ridiculously comfortable, for a campground) study which was serving as his office while they were at the camp (awkward because Rowan was still impaled on Ash's cock like a pig on a spit. The motherfucker had just so happened to have a life-threatening attack of horny right outside the teachers' cabin and Rowan ended up on his face, getting fucked into the grass, grumbling all the while, until there'd been a cough from above, and Mr Goodyer had been standing there, thick furze of brown-streaked grey hair rising on his forehead as his eyes widened, looking slightly traumatised), the upshot of which was that Rowan and Ash would be going home the next morning, and when or if they returned to school would be `a matter for later discussion'.
Mr Goodyer reached out as if to pat Rowan's hand, then glanced at Ash and thought better of it. He folded his hands neatly on the desk. Rowan noticed he wore a leather ring, like a tiny dog collar. `I'll stay in touch, Rowan--if your mate allows it. And we'll—we'll talk about college.'
At this point Ash, who so far had been complacently basking in the glow of sitting in front of the headmaster with his cock up Rowan's butt—violently and copiously cumming in him while they tried to put together the shattered pieces of Rowan's future—broke in. `You'll talk to me about college.'
A flare went up behind Rowan's eyes. 'Uh, excuse fucking me, you'll talk about my—'
Ash plugged his mouth with fingers. They tasted of dirt and semen.
Mr Goodyer's eyebrows raised the merest fraction of an inch. Then he nodded, his distinguished features crumpling slightly.
`Of course, Alpha. I apologise.' His head was bowed and his shoulders hunched in, and his eyeline was at Rowan's collar.
Was Mr Goodyer...being submissive to Ash? The kid who'd always been more than a little bit shit-scared of him? What wacky inverted dimension was this? Was the real Rowan still trapped under a rusted car-wreck in the forest? And would that have been a preferable fate?
Ash carried him outside, corked in mouth and ass. His knot deflated just as they crossed the threshold and Rowan thought he would try to stay in him as long as possible, but instead he hauled his cock out with a vicious tug and let a porridgy tsunami splash all over Mr Goodyer's doormat.
He let Rowan drop to his feet, not bothering to help steady him, and Rowan opened his mouth to bitch about that little display in the office, but before he could say a word Ash slammed him into the wall.
`Don't you fucking mouth off like that again. God knows I'm willing to put up with a lot of shit from you in private, but you never backchat your alpha like that in front of other people, Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?' His face was twisted with anger, jaw clenched, brown eyes blazing. It was almost how he had looked back in the woods, only this was worse, because Ash was conscious and in full control. Because this time there was no doubt Ash meant it.
Words failed Rowan. `Bro...'
Rowan was as game for banter as any beta with a lot to prove; would give as good as he got till he got what he wanted or had nothing left to give. But in the face of real fury such as this he was defenceless. The wolf inside him was whimpering, running in frantic circles, panicked out of its mind that his own mate was looking at him like that. It was worse than being raped.
He felt tears prickling his eyes. `Five hours ago we were friends and now you—I can't even...'
`Five hours ago, you were dead. But I saved you. I own you. We're not friends, Rowan. We're not. Fucking. Friends. You're my mate now. So get with the fucking program.'
`I'm trying', Rowan whispered.
Ash just looked at him.
Rowan lowered his eyes. Yeah, that was bullshit. But... `It's just...hard.'
Ash's voice relaxed, became soothing, intimate. `I know. I know, babe.'
Ash pulled Rowan into his arms. He kissed him. It was only the second time he'd done that, and the first time he'd done it on the mouth.
It was a deep kiss, and long, and passionate and tender, and Rowan had absolutely no control over it; he stood passively, breathing through his nose as Ash claimed his mouth with his teeth and tongue, dominated it as thoroughly as he'd dominated every other part of him.
When it was over, Rowan rested his head on his mate's shoulder and stared hollow-eyed at the sky, feeling a scream rising behind his clenched teeth. He swallowed it down and took a deep breath, and let Ash stroke his back, and it was fine again.
For the moment, he was fine.
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