As Nature Intended

 

When you first learn that you are an Omega, you learn all sorts of things you never imagined you would need to know when you were growing up. The essentials: Heat suppressants, scent masking, how to handle an Alpha that is scenting you, and of course, the laws that are in place to protect you, in a society that is accepting and progressive, yet still has elements of its attitudes stuck firmly in the past. You also learn that through no fault of your own, or conscious effort, it is possible for an Omega to adjust their body chemistry, to make themselves ready to do what some feel is their sole purpose in life: to breed.

Presenting as an Omega at the age of fourteen, Elliot has grown up cautious, distrustful of the world around him, yet determined to live a fulfilling life in spite of that. He is successful at work, has recently moved into a new apartment, and everything in his world appears to be falling into place. Which is, of course, exactly when his body decides to rebel, forcing ideas and urges into Elliot that he has spent his life trying to deny.

Enter reluctant Alpha, Oskar; as adamant as Elliot that he will not have his life disrupted by what he is, and just as horrified by his instincts as Elliot is finding himself about his own. Should they fight the inevitability that is their bond, that need they have for one another that will not get them a moment’s respite, or give in to just how easy, and effortless it feels between them?

Read here

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Tainted By Our Choices

 

Tainted By Our Choices Edit 2

Tainted by our choices is a contemporary romance that has flashbacks, sex, environmental awareness, and a slight fixation on dessert. Potentially all at the same time.

Meet Jack. A successful environmental officer working within an industry that is so very far from his childhood dream of saving the planet, that he no longer recognizes himself. How he’s found himself in Houston, Texas, where he has no one, and nothing but his work for company, he tells himself repeatedly he doesn’t know. But when the place that became home had the heart sucked right out of it, and all around him were the remnants of a life he wouldn’t get to have, Jack ran, at the first opportunity given to him.

On a bright, sunny morning, Jack sees a face so familiar to him that he knows it better than his own, one that takes him back first to a beach in his childhood home of Tampa Bay, and second to a college in Boston where Jack learned – and lost – his heart.

Tainted by our choices is the story of first crushes, loves, and heartbreaks, and the fallout that left Jack clinging to his past. Join him on his rediscovery of himself, as a chance meeting reminds him of the life he always wanted to lead. Is he brave enough to live it?

As Nature Intended

 

When you first learn that you are an Omega, you learn all sorts of things you never imagined you would need to know when you were growing up. The essentials: Heat suppressants, scent masking, how to handle an Alpha that is scenting you, and of course, the laws that are in place to protect you, in a society that is accepting and progressive, yet still has elements of its attitudes stuck firmly in the past. You also learn that through no fault of your own, or conscious effort, it is possible for an Omega to adjust their body chemistry, to make themselves ready to do what some feel is their sole purpose in life: to breed.

Presenting as an Omega at the age of fourteen, Elliot has grown up cautious, distrustful of the world around him, yet determined to live a fulfilling life in spite of that. He is successful at work, has recently moved into a new apartment, and everything in his world appears to be falling into place. Which is, of course, exactly when his body decides to rebel, forcing ideas and urges into Elliot that he has spent his life trying to deny.

Enter reluctant Alpha, Oskar; as adamant as Elliot that he will not have his life disrupted by what he is, and just as horrified by his instincts as Elliot is finding himself about his own. Should they fight the inevitability that is their bond, that need they have for one another that will not get them a moment’s respite, or give in to just how easy, and effortless it feels between them?

Read here

Tainted By Our Choices

 

Tainted by our choices is a contemporary romance that has flashbacks, sex, environmental awareness, and a slight fixation on dessert. Potentially all at the same time.

Meet Jack. A successful environmental officer working within an industry that is so very far from his childhood dream of saving the planet, that he no longer recognizes himself. How he’s found himself in Houston, Texas, where he has no one, and nothing but his work for company, he tells himself repeatedly he doesn’t know. But when the place that became home had the heart sucked right out of it, and all around him were the remnants of a life he wouldn’t get to have, Jack ran, at the first opportunity given to him.

On a bright, sunny morning, Jack sees a face so familiar to him that he knows it better than his own, one that takes him back first to a beach in his childhood home of Tampa Bay, and second to a college in Boston where Jack learned – and lost – his heart.

Tainted by our choices is the story of first crushes, loves, and heartbreaks, and the fallout that left Jack clinging to his past. Join him on his rediscovery of himself, as a chance meeting reminds him of the life he always wanted to lead. Is he brave enough to live it?

No Special Occasion

Mark and Rob have an evening together with nothing to enjoy other than each other…

This is NOT safe for work, just to warn you. For those of you who follow/have followed me elsewhere, you might recognise this story in another guise 😉

This was no special occasion. Not an anniversary, or an oops, I’ve pissed you off, let me make it up to you. Or even an I’ve had a bad day, I need to feel you close to me. Just an intimate kind of evening with nothing to concentrate on but themselves.

Mark returned from his shower to find Rob asleep on their bed, one hand curled underneath the corner of Mark’s pillow and the other creeping forward across the sheets. Mark smiled; sleeping Rob wasn’t peaceful, or younger looking, or any of the things people normally said about their favourite people when they were resting. He was just resting, and Mark loved nothing more than seeing Rob taking any kind of rest, because it was such a rare thing for him to do. No one worked harder than Rob did, Mark was sure of it, or even biased about it, but either way he didn’t care. Rob was resting, and that was good enough for him.

Rob stood for a moment longer, then silently padded up to his side of the bed barefoot, slowly lifting off the oversized long sleeved shirt he was wearing and reaching to loop it over the back of a chair.

Gently lowering himself onto the bed, he did his best not to jostle Rob too much, keeping himself a little towards the edge as he swung his feet up and stretched his legs out. He turned, very slightly, picking up his book from the bedside table and wincing as the rustle of pages seemed too loud to his ears, in the silence of their room. Satisfied that Rob hadn’t stirred, he turned his attention back to the words before him, quickly familiarising himself with where he was in the story plot and losing himself in it.

A soft sigh a little while later announced Rob’s waking up, his fingers pausing as they stroked across the sheet and came into contact with Mark’s thigh. He raised his head, eyes drowsy and unfocused before coming to rest on Mark’s face.

“Hey,” he mumbled, yawning and giving the smallest of stretches, before rolling forward and pressing his nose against Mark’s hip, a hand slung over and resting just above his opposite knee.

Mark smiled down at him, slotting his bookmark between the pages and pushing the book back onto the cabinet before lightly running both his hands through the back of Rob’s hair. Rob arched against his fingers, humming in approval. “How long’ve I been out?” he asked with another yawn before nuzzling against him.

“Maybe an hour,”

“Come here,” Rob beckoned, slotting a finger through Mark’s belt loop and tugging, insinuating Mark lay beside him. Mark slid until his own head was on his pillow resting just over Rob’s hand, and turned briefly to press a kiss to the back of it.

Rob gave out a small hum of approval as his fingers brushed over Mark’s naked skin, stroking down his back and rolling closer towards him. Drawing his hand back from Mark’s pillow, Rob wrenched up his own shirt a little so that he could press his now-naked stomach against Mark’s, and sighed, content, wrapping his arm back around him.

Mark smiled a kiss against Rob’s forehead and slipped his fingers up the back of Rob’s shirt, resting them there.

“Better,” Rob mumbled against Mark’s lips, closing his eyes again, and they lay there without knowing the time, trading soft, occasional kisses as they breathed each other in.

Rob pressed a short series of tiny kisses against Mark’s lips then, and at the same time spread his hand wide to touch as much of Mark’s bare skin at once as he could. He slid his hand down Mark’s side slowly, then moved back just enough so that his thumb could drop down between them to run over Mark’s stomach.

Mark smiled against his mouth, lightly massaging his own fingers into Rob’s back. He opened up the kiss a little, though keeping it lazy, with Rob sliding his hand slowly up the length of Mark’s back again to come to rest between his shoulder blades, holding him close.

And as their slow kisses continued unhurried, Rob continued stroking over as much of Mark’s skin as he could get to, first dipping down low to the small of Mark’s back, then up over his shoulders, trailing his fingers along the edge of his ribs and rolling back a little so that he had room to brush the lightest of touches up and over a nipple, earning him a breathier yet still gentle kiss.

Rob kissed the corner of Mark’s mouth, the edge of his jaw, a patch on his neck, his collarbone, working his head lower until he could flick his tongue over Mark’s nipples and gently catch them in his teeth in turn. Mark hummed, trailing his own fingers in absent patterns over his back.

When Rob raised his head again, he claimed another kiss, this one the tiniest bit harder than before, though still unhurried. Mark stroked his fingers up under Rob’s shirt again, hooking his thumb on the outside to show Rob what he wanted. Together they pulled Rob’s shirt up and over his head, and Mark’s eyes lit up to see him, rolling forward to press Rob down on his back.

Mark kissed his way up from the dip of Rob’s shoulder, all the way up his neck and under his jaw, before reaching Rob’s mouth. Rob sighed against him, his hands around Mark’s hips and moving him so that Mark was straddling his lap and resting on his forearms either side of his head, settling directly over him.

Mark flicked his tongue against Rob’s lips, forcing a pleased gasp out of him in response, shuffling closer still until they were pressed together at every point. Mark smiled at that, moving his hand a fraction so he could trace his thumb along the stubble of Rob’s jaw.

Mark stared at Rob with a wide, blissful smile, his fingers drumming lightly along Rob’s cheek. He nosed Rob’s jaw to one side to mouth along his neck, and just under his chin where he knew would make Rob smile. He nuzzled his way back up through Rob’s stubble before kissing him again, open, and long.

“Are you still tired?” Mark asked, kisses now to Rob’s cheeks, his nose, his closed eyes.

Rob’s hands slid up Mark’s sides, tracing the outline of his shoulder blades. “Nope. Not tired at all. Didn’t even mean to fall asleep,”

“So you’ve no objection to me keeping kissing you?” Mark prompted, though not actually making any effort to pause at all.

Rob rolled his hips up the smallest of rolls and angled his mouth towards him in invitation. “Please do…”

“Good,” Mark breathed, before licking his way into Rob’s mouth, smiling as he sighed out lengthy and content. And then Mark really did kiss Rob, his lips barely leaving his skin for a second. He started at his mouth, working his way down the dip under his lip, his chin, all along the length of his neck down to his collarbone before he had to shift lower, which he did in a deliberate, slow slide so that they brushed against one another. He bit down on Rob’s left pec, swirling his tongue over the mark he left there before sucking on a nipple, and repeating the entire thing with his right.

Mark kissed his sternum, each rib, down to the slightly softer flesh of his belly, all while slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans so that he could nose his way into them. He pressed the tip of his nose into Rob’s belly button and raised his head, knowing he’d see Rob laughing at that, before lightly hooking his fingers along the line of Rob’s boxers and slowly pulling both them and his jeans down.

Rob helped, raising his hips to free him of his clothes, sighing and pliant as Mark slowly pulled them down. Mark’s kisses continued with the slow exposing of skin; front of hip, top of thigh, dip at top of kneecap, a light lick to the back of the knee that made Rob jump for the tickle of it, a tiny bite against his calf, and a final kiss into his inner ankle until he could pull the jean legs completely free. Then Mark worked in reverse back up Rob’s other leg, moving to lay between them, eventually stopping to press a series of kisses into Rob’s stomach. He raised himself to rest his chin there, smiling up at Rob for a moment and receiving a wink and fingers slotted back through his hair.

Mark started kissing his way back down again, nuzzling into the hair around Rob’s base, kissing his way up Rob’s length so slowly that Rob started out barely stirring, but on his way to almost completely hard by the time Mark’s lips pressed against his tip.

Mark raised his head again to smile up at Rob, catching the slightly open-mouthed smile there, then licked firmly once over Rob’s head, keeping eye contact. Rob sucked in a breath in anticipation, his fingers still running through Mark’s hair, then coming to rest on his shoulders and drumming there once to get his attention.

Mark stopped, looking up in question.

“Come up here,”

Rob patted his own thighs, silently asking Mark to sit on him. Mark did, looping one leg over and then the other, running his hands up Rob’s chest as he sat up. Rob reached his hands up to grip Mark’s face, leaning up to kiss him, smiling against his lips.

Rob reached out and slowly undid Mark’s jeans, sliding his hands in the back at first to cup his ass. He ran his hands there a while, moulding them in time with the flicking of his tongue into Mark’s mouth, then brushed his fingertips around to the front of Mark’s jeans, lightly enough to make Mark shudder.

Rob slid a hand inside Mark’s boxers where he was already half-hard, and Mark groaned, arching up his neck, which Rob took full advantage of by biting lightly down on his pulse point there, laving his tongue over the marks he left behind.

Rob circled a thumb over Mark’s head and grinned at the small stutter he answered with, then dipped his hand back in, stroking him, teasingly slow from base to tip, with another circle over his head on every up stroke.

“Let’s get these off,” Rob whispered against Mark’s lips, fingers inside the waistband of Mark’s boxers and pulling. He pulled them down as far as he could, before Mark shifted backwards and knelt his way off the bed, pulling down his boxers and jeans in one go, then crawling back and leaning over Rob for a kiss.

Rob patted to his side, and Mark laid down there beside him, running a hand over his hip. Rob cupped his face to kiss him and pressed himself forward, before dipping his hand back down and lightly gripping them both in his palm.

Mark moaned, thrusting up into his hand, feeling Rob smile against his lips. And Rob stroked them both, going back to his slow and lengthy attention that he’d given just to Mark moments before. Their kisses remained slow, stuttering, missing and half-missing when a gasp of pleasure caught.

Mark gave a small hum against Rob’s lips, pressing another kiss against him before dipping his head a little with a smile.

“What?” Rob asked in a whisper, his rhythm not changing and still pressing his lips lightly against Mark’s when he could.

“Nothing,” Mark shrugged a little, lifting his eyes to Rob’s before they dropped again, “I like watching when you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” Rob asked, smiling, deliberately running a slow thumb over each of their heads and slicking them both back down, continuing his long, slow strokes.

“Mm,” is all Mark managed, all his concentration elsewhere.

“Anything you like seeing in particular?” Rob asked, feeling himself harden a little more under Mark’s gaze. Mark lifted his head to look at him then with a knowing smile.

“All of it,” Mark replied quietly, “I like it when we’re leaking and you slick it down over us, and when you grip just here,” he moved his hand to show Rob, just at the dip beneath his head, humming as he pressed his own thumb there, “and stroke your thumb up over here,” he added, running his own fingers over Rob’s slit and making him shudder, “I enjoy seeing – and feeling – it all,”

Rob continued his long, slow stroking with both of them focusing their gaze on his hand, the occasional jolt of their hips surging them forward and interrupting their kisses with increasingly filthier moans.

“You wanna just keep doing this?” Rob whispered against his lips, which made Mark smile, then shake his head, looking down and thrusting into Rob’s hand a couple of times more and groaning, then pulling Rob’s hand away from them and resting it on his hip. They laid side by side, rolling forward so their cocks were still gliding over each other, letting out moans of encouragement, between stuttered kisses.

“No,” Mark finally replied, chasing Rob’s tongue around his mouth a little, “I need you,”

“Oh yeah?” Rob repeated, a little thickly as he thrust against him a little harder, “I’m all yours,” which pleased Mark no end, and Rob was rewarded with a deeper kiss as well as a quick, light stroke along his length before Mark pressed on Rob’s hip and rolled him on to his back, moving with him to kneel between his legs.

Mark positioned Rob just how he wanted him; feet flat on the bed and knees up either side of him, splayed open. Mark shifted down, kissing his knee, and all along his inner thigh, all while pushing Rob’s knees further apart. He bent further, taking just Rob’s head into his mouth and sucking hard and moaning as his mouth filled with precum, then lapped along his slit, humming then as Rob jolted beneath him. He opened his mouth around him and took him in, hollowing his cheeks a couple of times in a hard suck then pulled off him and bent for a final lick over his head, then knelt up, bracing himself on Rob’s parted knees.

Mark tapped Rob’s thigh and Rob watched as Mark slid off the bed, hands resting on Rob’s hips. Rob moved with him willingly, until he was closer to the edge of the bed, and Mark was on his knees on the floor.

Mark leaned over, running his hands up the back of Rob’s thighs so that he raised his legs for him. “Hold yourself open,” he said, and Rob slid his hands behind his knees, pulling them wide.

Mark pressed his hands either side of Rob’s hole, and pushed them slowly apart to expose him. He dipped his head, licking his way in, smiling at the way Rob’s thighs clenched and a gasp escaped his lips.

Mark swirled his tongue into him, circling for a beat, pressing in, circling again, pressing further, until he could dart it in and out freely, lapping at him. Rob writhed and rocked against him, giving all sorts of sounds of encouragement, so obviously enjoying everything that Mark was doing to him.

Mark pulled back a little, flicking his tongue out just to brush the tip against Rob, who gave a startled sigh at the loss and pushed himself forward. Mark pushed him back, repeating his teasing little flicks unevenly over and over so Rob never knew when they were coming, until Rob was whimpering and grinding himself forward. Mark rewarded him with one long, deep lick before placing a kiss over his hole and moving away entirely.

Mark didn’t move far though, pressing a kiss into the crease of Rob’s leg, and slowly stroking his thumb over Rob’s leaking head. He used the precum there to slick his fingers up, and pressed two in to Rob at once, steady and slow. Rob gasped, writhing as Mark pressed and scissored his fingers inside him until he hit Rob’s prostate, making him judder forward.

Mark pressed his face against Rob’s inner thigh just below his knee, watching his fingers sliding in and out of Rob as he added a third. He kept up a steady stream of kisses where his head rested, closing his eyes with a smile at the noises Rob continued making above him.

“Need you, Mark,” Rob choked out eventually, no longer unable to control the way he rocked down on Mark’s fingers.

“Mm,” Mark agreed, placing a final kiss to Rob’s thigh and moving to stand. He waited as Rob pressed his hands into the bed and levered himself back up it until his head was back on the pillow. His legs stayed wide, and Mark crawled between them, hands running up Rob’s chest and cradling his face for a moment in a kiss. He leaned over and snatched up a bottle of lube from the side of the bed, slicking up his fingers to slide into him, then coating his own cock, his head falling back with a groan.

Mark settled back between Rob’s legs, his hands pressing him open again and lining himself up. He felt Rob shift and looked up; Rob’s eyes were fixed on Mark’s cock as its tip pressed firm against his hole.

“I like watching you sliding in to me,” he said, raising his eyes to Mark’s for only a moment before dropping them again. Mark smiled, dropping his own gaze to watch as his cock head disappeared inside Rob, pausing to flick his eyes up to see Rob’s face before pressing all the way in, in one slow, drawn out thrust.

They both let out a soft grunt when Mark was all the way inside him. He paused again, just for a second, before sliding almost all the way back out, their eyes ever watchful as he continued rocking in and out of him, breathing soft, choking out gasps as he did.

Mark shifted, this time stroking his hands up the back of Rob’s thighs so that they were high and angled up against Rob’s chest. Mark leaned over him, rocking into him with only the minimum of movement as he kissed him.

They kept their pace slow, gently rocking together with Rob’s hands flat against the bed, and Mark’s lips never far from Rob’s. They only paused to give each other silly grins, eyes shining, smiling in delight when one of them gave out a particularly appreciative moan.

Mark shifted a little, pulling Rob’s hips up and angling himself in a way that hit Rob’s prostate repeatedly and made his head writhe back against his pillow. Mark kept hold of one of Rob’s legs, while his other dropped so that he could take Rob in his hand and stroke him in time with his thrusts.

Rob held himself open again, gripping the back of his knee and holding it wide like Mark did with his other. His eyes continued flitting between Mark’s hand around his cock, and where his hips rolled, with Mark disappearing into him.

“Rob,” Mark breathed out, and Rob knew from the tone that Mark was straining hard to keep his movements slow and steady. In answer, Rob shifted Mark’s hand and held himself wide open for him with both hands, Mark falling forward a little as he stumbled to support his weight on the bed.

Mark began pounding into him, still stroking Rob in time with his hips but now accompanied with a series of gasps, and slaps of skin on skin as he thrust harder, and as deep as he could go.

Rob rolled his hips up in time to meet him where he could, as Mark’s thrusts became more frantic into him, his hips stuttering as he chased the angle in Rob that made his eyes roll.

Harder, and harder, the air filled with nothing but their grunts and moans that sounded more and more desperate the close they got. With a last gasp out of Mark’s name, Rob came, shooting several thick, hot stripes to splatter over his own stomach. Mark smiled down at that for a second, but was unable to stop, thrusting relentlessly and uncontrollably before grinding against Rob with a long, guttural groan, coming hard.

Mark fell forward, landing square on Rob’s chest with a soft oof, and Rob’s chest rising and falling heavily under his weight. His hands dropped to Rob’s waist, and Rob’s hands lifted to stroke circles into Mark’s lower back.

As Mark softened, he slipped out of Rob, and Mark moved his hands up back to either side of Rob’s shoulders, pressing kisses into his neck, jaw, and back up to his face. They rested their foreheads together as their breathing evened, eyes on each other the entire time.

When they’d calmed enough to move, Mark slid from the bed, with Rob whimpering a complaint at the loss. Mark bent to pick up his boxers and smiled at Rob, wiping come from them both before discarding the boxers back on the floor and climbing up beside him again.

Rob turned instantly to him, one arm around his waist and pulling him close. His mouth claimed Mark’s again, and Mark went willingly, curling a hand possessively around Rob’s hip with a deep, sated sigh.

They fell asleep with their lips idly pressing against each others’, curved into satisfied smiles.

A New Experience

Meet college roommates Derek and Jordan. Jordan is frustrated and inexperienced; Derek quite literally gives him a hand.

This is NOT safe for work, just to warn you. For those of you who follow/have followed me elsewhere, you might recognise this story in another guise 😉

Derek had never been good at getting the cold shoulder. He’d go out of his way to try to turn the mood round of whoever was annoyed at him, whether he felt they were justified for it or not. He’d spent all his childhood trying and failing to meet his father’s approval, and attempting to judge other people’s moods had become ingrained in him as a result.

He went out of his way to double check and overthink the reactions of others’, fearing their disappointment in him more than anything else. It wasn’t that he was shy, or even uncertain of himself in any way; Derek had an incessant need for people not to be mad at him, ever, no matter the circumstances. Even his little sister’s squealing squad of friends who’d been fluttering their far-too-young eyelashes at him for years before he escaped to college; even them he went out of his way not to offend.

With Jordan, Derek was lost.

When Derek had signed up for the roommate pairing service he’d seen on the noticeboard at college towards the end of the summer term, he’d been both hesitant and excited. It was a chance to live in a space infinitely bigger than the tiniest of dorm rooms he’d been in throughout his first year, and maybe even to make some new friends in the process. When he and Jordan had been assigned each other, the two of them hit it off immediately, trading emails back and forth all summer long.

They moved into their small apartment in walking distance of the college on an awful, grey kind of day, celebrating their new freedom and friendship over pizza and beer and solidifying that friendship with warm smiles and easy conversation. And though neither of them was perfect, and occasionally they found things to disagree on, their lives together were mostly problem free, with barely a single bad word between them. Barely.

Derek hated it when he’d pissed Jordan off, intentionally or otherwise. The slightest glib comment or not thought out teasing and Jordan would stiffen, turn away, refuse eye contact altogether. Derek would then spend hours sometimes, coaxing Jordan back into talking to him. He’d chew on his lip, worrying at it until it was near bleeding, watching Jordan as though staring alone would force him to forgive him.

Their friends often watched Derek watch Jordan in silence, in utter bewilderment at how oblivious the two of them were, whilst nudging into each other’s sides and taking bets on just how long it would be for them to actually get together.

A few nights ago, a crotchety Derek had snapped at Jordan on more than one occasion after he’d come home late from a weekend visiting his parents and not answered his string of messages. It had come out of fear and concern, because Derek knew just how unreliable Jordan’s car was, but his words had come out sounding angry and condescending.

There had been much slamming of doors, noisy unpacking of bags and Tupperware boxes full of food from Jordan’s parents, and aggressive filling of glasses of water, those glasses then banged down on kitchen surfaces with a cold, clinking sound that echoed throughout their kitchen making it seem far larger than it was. And it was at the sink that Derek had finally turned on Jordan, gripping him firmly by the forearms, forcing him to look at him.

“Look,” he began, ducking his head just a fraction so that he was at eye level with him, “I know I’m a cranky bastard sometimes, alright? I know. But you’re not much better when you’re like this. And I was worried, okay? So just… stop being mad at me. I hate it when you’re mad at me,”

Jordan purposely avoided his gaze again, turning his face to stare emptily over Derek’s shoulder.

“Jordan…” Pleading had been in Derek’s voice then; he was exhausted after a late Saturday night and a long Sunday of trying to get ahead on his studies, but he knew he’d never be able to fall sleep if he went to bed with Jordan still angry at him.

“There’s no reason for you to talk to me like a kid,” Jordan huffed, finally deeming to speak to him, albeit in an accusatory tone.

“I know,” Derek nodded, wiping a rough hand over his face as though to re-energise himself a little, before returning his grip to Jordan’s arm, “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out like that,”

Jordan looked at him properly then, because although Derek seemed perpetually sorry for something, his actual sorrys were few and far between, and at least in Jordan’s case, never said without being meant. Jordan relaxed a little under Derek’s grip, and Derek’s shoulders answered in a slump of relief.

In their tiredness, the usual way they had come to carefully keep a little distance between them slipped, and they relaxed into each other without their usual overthinking. And Derek would swear he never knew how, but that he’d never regret, the way he found himself kissing Jordan then.

He felt Jordan’s lips under his own, dry, and soft, and willing, and then he’d felt himself sigh out in a way that said, finally. A hesitant movement and Jordan’s hands pressed into Derek’s chest, before slowly sliding upwards to rest in a curve around his shoulders. Derek wove his arms around Jordan’s back, leaning him against the counter though gently enough to not trap him there.

Their kiss was long, chaste and sleepy, and to Derek, it was perfect. Perhaps not like the thousand different ways he’d imagined kissing Jordan for the first time, having been harbouring a not-so-secret crush on him since probably day one of meeting him, but perfect nonetheless.

It hadn’t happened since.

The following morning, Jordan had smiled at him with a faint blush on his cheeks, which Derek had returned in kind. But somehow, they’d succeeded in avoiding being alone together, and Derek couldn’t help but notice Jordan’s tone with him becoming clipped, annoyed, and guarded.

He’d been completely sincere when he’d told Jordan he hated him being mad at him, and the thought that Jordan was unhappy about Derek kissing him filled Derek with actual despair. Which is how he’d found himself stood outside Jordan’s room, hand raised to knock but not quite managing to do it. He stood there for a while, rehearsing the things he’d say, and how he thought Jordan might respond, and then what he’d say in response. Planning conversations was always exhausting, and Derek found that the ones he planned with Jordan in particular never went the way he expected them to.

In a moment of bravery, he knocked, his heart jumping at the sound and impending result. He listened as Jordan approached the door, swallowing hard when the door was swung open and Jordan scowled at him across the doorway.

“Hey,” Derek managed, thickly as though his tongue was swollen from the weight of all the words fighting to be let out.

“Hi,”

Derek peered over his shoulder and shuffled on the spot. “You busy?”

“Not really,”

“Then,” Derek’s voice cracked, and after he cleared his throat he tried again, “can I come in?”

Jordan’s sigh was heavy and put upon, as though Derek was intentionally causing him the most amount of difficulty possible. But he backed away from the door anyway, waving him inside and closing it firmly behind him. Derek stood awkwardly beside the bed, looking between it and the chair draped with clothes, and not wanting to presume he should sit in either place. Jordan slumped down on to the end of the bed hard, saying nothing.

Derek’s heart sank. He’d hoped, for so long, that when he and Jordan finally got around to something in the category of more than friendship – because he had been so very, very sure that Jordan felt the same way – that Jordan would be a willing participant. He felt stupid now, and hurt, that clearly the kiss that had plastered a stupid grin on his own face for the past few days had not been received as it had been given.

“I didn’t mean to…” he tried, then started over, “I shouldn’t have…” but Derek’s stumbled words failed him and left him wringing his hands together and fiddling with the ends of his shirt, adjusting the cuffs, anything to keep himself busy.

“I liked kissing you, Derek,”

Derek’s eyes widened when Jordan finally spoke and looked over at him, taking in the resigned, weighted look there and hearing but despite it not being said out loud.

“I thought maybe you-”

“I really enjoyed our kiss, Derek. Very much,”

A new kind of beating took up in Derek’s heart, and he cursed at himself for getting over-excited. “Then why are you avoiding me, huh? Why so angry suddenly?” he demanded, impatiently waiting for an explanation and watching for so long that he thought Jordan was never going to answer him.

“It’s so uncomfortable,” Jordan finally blurted, and the frustration in his voice Derek would have found funny were it not being aimed in his direction.

“Uncomfortable,” Derek repeated, waiting for confirmation that that was what he’d really heard, having no idea at all what it meant.

Jordan answered by waving a hand vaguely over his lap, a heavy sigh blasting out of him as he curled back in on himself and avoided Derek’s gaze, but not before Derek’s eyes automatically flew to what looked like a prominent bulge in Jordan’s jeans.

Derek’s mouth dried out and he stared at it, gawping and telling himself not to.

“I am… almost constantly aroused, Derek. It’s… frustrating. And painful. And so much worse when you’re anywhere near me. Even more so since we kissed; it was like it before, but… but it was never like this,” he said, forcing out the last word so very incredulously then scowling at Derek as though he expected him to laugh.

White noise assaulted Derek’s ears then, making him feel a little light-headed. The confirmation that Jordan too had been feeling something for him was warring with his stunned realisation that perhaps Jordan wasn’t particularly experienced with these things. It left Derek both cautious and excited, and probably a lot more turned on by it than he should really be feeling, he thought, shifting awkwardly where he sat.

“I…” Derek managed eventually with his voice cracking all over again, “I… you. You never said,”

“Neither did you,” Jordan pointed out with a raised eyebrow that had Derek shrinking back in his chair and swallowing hard.

“You ever thought about doing something about… That?” he managed after a pause, in a rush of words the flew out of him unchecked, cursing himself for the blush he felt forming on his face as his eyes dropped again to Jordan’s fly.

Jordan’s hands slapped heavily against his thighs in obvious irritation. “But I don’t know how!” he half-yelled, “don’t you get it, Derek? The reason I never… the reason I don’t… is ‘cos I never have. I’ve never… I mean I’ve never…”

Derek’s mind raced through a thousand thoughts at once, though got stuck on just how very cute Jordan was when he was flustered; it was something he’d never seen happen to him before but would have absolutely no objection to seeing over and over again. And of course, if Jordan was a virgin, there were so many things he could teach him, and he’d be his first, and he’d-

Derek cut himself off, attempting to silence all the thoughts bouncing around inside his head, all while his own jeans tightened painfully in response.

“You could… you’d know what to do, if you tried. Instinct. Or you know… YouTube…” he finished with weakly as Jordan rolled his eyes at him, and for a moment, they sat in awkward silence.

Then Derek found himself standing. He walked the short distance towards Jordan, raising one knee to press on to the bed and then swung himself forward, his other knee resting at Jordan’s hip.

He steadied himself with a hand on Jordan’s shoulder and Derek lowered himself a fraction, his eyes never leaving Jordan’s, his breath catching in his throat as Jordan’s eyes grew wider the closer that he got.

“You like me, Jordan?” Derek asked, so very shy, desperately needing to hear him say it before he did anything about it.

“Yes,” Jordan whispered, his eyes lingering over Derek’s lips as though silently asking that he kiss him again, “yes. Very much,”

Derek settled himself properly on Jordan’s lap, smiling as his mouth fell open at the feel of Derek’s own arousal against his, and which only had Derek hardening more. He cupped Jordan’s face to pull him closer, and this kiss was anything but chaste, nipping at Jordan’s mouth, encouraging it open and darting his tongue inside, closing his eyes with a satisfied moan as Jordan slid his tongue under his in exploration. Jordan’s hands rested on Derek’s thighs before sliding up to his hips, his fingers digging in. He kissed back just as hungrily, uncontrolled gasps escaping in the few seconds their lips weren’t pressed together.

“See how easy you find kissing, Jordan? Instinct. You feel… so good,” Derek breathed into his mouth, eyes half closed.

“This… this isn’t helping,” Jordan panted out, his eyes too fluttering closed at the feel of Derek’s fingers dug in his hair, “I still don’t know what I’m doing here. I mean… I don’t know how to deal with this,” he blasted at him, a brief look down at himself before dragging his eyes away again, embarrassed.

Derek pressed himself into Jordan but pulled back to stare at him intently. “I… I could help you, you know. If- if you wanted me to…” and as Derek had expected him to, Jordan froze, with an expression that was part fear, part want, and part uncertainty.

“Help me?” he asked, his voice trembling, digging his fingers harder into Derek’s sides.

Derek nodded, swallowing thickly, the only sound managing to escape his mouth being, “Mmhmm,” and his eyes flitted back down to Jordan’s lap for another second.

Jordan’s mouth opened and closed again. “I… don’t know if I’d even like it,” he finally settled on saying after what looked to Derek several false attempts at starting.

Derek snorted. “C’mon, Jordan. Everyone likes it.”

“Not necessarily,” Jordan denied with a quick shake of his head. His eyes rested on Derek’s lips again, and Derek took that as an invite to kiss him again, pressing himself ever closer and feeling Jordan’s throat stutter beneath his fingertips.

“How come you’ve never tried?” Derek asked, lingering kisses over his face and closing his eyes as Jordan’s fingers bunched tight in his shirt.

“I just… I just never… I never really felt like this before,” Jordan whispered, bravely claiming his own kiss then leaning back to check Derek’s expression to know it was okay.

“Before?” Derek repeated, his heart thudding a little faster.

“Before you. Before I met you, I never wanted… I never- I don’t know how,” Jordan settled on, sounding just as frustrated as the first time he’d said it.

Images came to Derek then of being the first to get his hands on Jordan, of talking him through it, of watching him come for the very first time, and he found himself grinding against him, the unconscious movement forcing another tortured gasp from Jordan’s mouth.

“Let me…” he whispered against Jordan’s lips, pressing a kiss onto his nose, his forehead, and at a spot just beneath his jaw that seemed to make him whimper.

“I don’t know…” Jordan answered, though tentatively rocking up against Derek as he did, his fingers curled tightly into Derek’s shirt as he avoided his eye contact.

Derek lifted his chin, breathing a soft, “Please…” into his mouth before licking his way back in.

After a long, long pause, and an equally lengthy exploration of each other’s mouths, he felt Jordan nod slowly and let out a shuddering breath in response, resting their foreheads together.

“Thank you,” Derek smiled then, sitting back and moving himself so that he now knelt beside Jordan instead of over him. Jordan let out a long breath as though to calm himself, and when his eyes met Derek’s, they were full of trust, but also nervousness that Derek had every intention of taking away.

Derek nodded towards the pillows at the head of the bed, and rested a hand on Jordan’s arm. “Think you can shift up here a little for me?”

Jordan did as asked, awkwardly laying his hands over each other on a thin stretch of skin above his jeans. Derek looked at that skin in fascination, idly wondering what response he’d get if he bent down to lick it. The look on Jordan’s face stopped him though, reminding himself to slow down, take things one at a time.

Instead, Derek reached out, a thumb and finger resting on the button of Jordan’s jeans but not moving any further. “Can I?” he asked, keeping perfectly still, watching as Jordan gave a hesitant nod and dropped his hands to the sides to clench tight into the duvet.

Derek flicked open the button and slowly slid down Jordan’s fly, his eyes never leaving Jordan’s even as he gave a little gasp at the sudden freedom he felt from his jeans. Derek raised his hands, fingers skimming over his hips and hooking lightly under the edge of his boxers. He leaned down to kiss Jordan then, again asking for permission.

Jordan nodded a little faster this time, breathing hard as Derek slid his thumbs down under the fabric. His fingers spread out and did the same; when Jordan felt Derek pulling his boxers and jeans he raised his hips, allowing Derek to pull them down and off slowly in one go.

Derek couldn’t stop himself from looking down; Jordan was swollen hard and straining, and possibly the most glorious thing Derek had ever seen in his life. His mouth watered, and again he had to stop himself from allowing his thoughts to wander to things Jordan definitely didn’t seem ready for just yet. Derek made a mental list of all the things he wanted to try with him and had to resist the urge to start palming at himself.

Instead, he dragged his eyes upward to meet Jordan’s, mumbling, “Fuck, Jordan. You any idea how hot you are?”

This seemed to be the very thing to say, because the tension Derek had seen Jordan holding on to slipped away as he offered up a shy smile. Derek rewarded him with a kiss, his hand gently resting on his stomach and pushing his shirt up a little, exposing more skin that he couldn’t resist swirling his thumb over.

“This is where I need to ask if you trust me,” Derek said quietly, one hand now resting around Jordan’s hip. He waited until Jordan nodded, then nodded back in turn, taking his own levelling breath before allowing himself to continue.

Derek brushed his fingers gently from the base of Jordan’s cock and upwards, feeling it jump in response and hearing his breath hitch in surprise. He swirled his thumb in a circle over Jordan’s cock head, smearing down the precum already pooling there and smiling at the startled noise that blasted out of his lips.

Gently, Derek wrapped his fingers around Jordan’s length, feeling himself straining against his own zipper at the weight of him in his hand. And slowly, his eyes never leaving Jordan’s, not even for a second, he began stroking him, slow and steady.

Derek could never have fantasised adequately about just how good Jordan sounded, or felt there beneath him. He watched his face, and the way his lips parted, listening to the litany of surprised moans that escaped with each stroke. Every time Derek circled his thumb over Jordan’s head, he gave a choking whine, and Derek smiled in encouragement.

When Jordan involuntarily began thrusting into Derek’s hand, his eyes widened, and he shook his head from side to side against his pillow as though he thought he was doing something wrong.

“It’s okay, Jordan. It’s good. Real good,” Derek licked his lips, cataloguing every one of Jordan’s moves and moans.

“I feel…” Jordan blurted out in a hurry then came to an immediate stop, worry laced through his voice and across his face.

“What do you feel?” Derek leaned down to kiss him, nuzzling against and reassuring him without altering his grip even for a moment.

“I feel… there’s heat. In my abdomen. And it feels stretched. Too stretched,” Jordan’s words came out hurried, and panicked, and he looked down at Derek’s hand wrapped around him then back up to his face, his expression caught between fear and pleasure as though he couldn’t decide which thing he should be feeling more.

“It’s okay. I promise. It’s supposed to feel like that. I promise,” Derek told him, claiming himself a sweet kiss and smiling in reassurance all over again.

“And my…” Jordan’s voice came out shy, and his gaze fell back down at himself. Derek stopped his stroking to see if he would find the words he needed, and Jordan whimpered in protest, which had Derek smiling triumphantly at. Pressing another kiss to his lips, Derek thought he knew what Jordan was meaning, dropping his hand down slowly to cup and begin to play with his balls. Jordan answered that with another startled gasp and a wanton sound blasting out of his mouth, his knees falling open and Derek’s own cock straining hard against his fly for the sight of it.

“S’good, Jordan,” Derek mumbled thickly, fingers massaging and pressing in all the ways he liked on himself, “do that. Open your legs a little more for me,”

Jordan did just that, letting out yet another surprised moan. “Are they… should they feel like that?” he asked in a whisper, watching Derek’s hand as it moved.

“Like what?”

“Tight. Like they’re… tensing up,”

Derek nodded, biting down on his lip to try to maintain some kind of control over himself, taking in the nervous though clearly lust-blown expression on Jordan’s face and not knowing how long he was going to last himself just for looking at him.

“It’s so hot. So hot. In my stomach. I don’t know if-”

“Shh…” Derek kissed away his doubt, his hand shifting back to start stroking his cock again, loving how Jordan arched immediately in his touch, “it’s okay. It’s supposed to feel like that,”

Jordan’s eyes fluttered and his mouth opened and closed, choked gasps punctuating the thrust of his hips.

“I’m going to speed up a little, okay?” Derek asked, waiting again for permission before doing just that.

“Derek,” Jordan gasped out urgently, the worry back in his voice and a tight grasp against his shirt, “Derek… I don’t know if I can-”

“Does it hurt?” Derek asked softly, releasing him for a second to lick over his hand a few times then gripping him again in a slicker hold, keeping up the same rhythm as before but ready to stop if Jordan asked him to, relieved when he shook his head repeatedly.

“Is it bad?”

“Nno. No, Derek. Not bad. Feels really good. Really good. But I don’t know if-”

“Hey,” Derek whispered, pressing another kiss into his lips, “I promise. It’s gonna be okay. I promise,” then licked his way into his mouth, thrusting his tongue in time with the pumping of his hand, his breath catching as Jordan groaned heavily in response, jerking up his hips and shuddering all over.

“Can I make you come, Jordan?” he asked quietly, in between more kisses, “Please?”

Jordan’s eyes were wide but he was nodding rapidly in agreement, his mouth gaping open as Derek changed the pressure and pace of his stroking again.

“Derek,” he choked out, and suddenly that was the only word he seemed able to remember. Over and over he chanted Derek’s name, the tone of it heading straight to Derek’s own cock in a way that told him he would come hard and fast himself later. He kept his focus on Jordan though, revelling in the way Jordan writhed at his touch and his hands gripped knuckle-white to the bed.

“Derek,” he stammered out, a tremble in his voice, and a terrified look on his face as he looked down to watch Derek’s now furious pounding of his cock.

“It’s good, I promise, you’re doing so good,”

“Derek…” Jordan’s tone was urgent, reverent, terrified and in awe. Derek held his breath as Jordan gave one final, jerky thrust up into his hand, moaning out the dirtiest of sounds Derek thought he’d ever heard, and coming hard and hot over Derek’s hand and his own stomach.

Jordan seemed to melt against the bed, his breath coming out in short, sharp bursts. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and Derek pressed a kiss into his temple, tasting the salt there and nuzzling against him.

Derek gently milked him until his hips began to stutter, then removed his hand, resting it lightly against his hip. Jordan closed his eyes as he forced deep breaths into himself, and for a moment Derek wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then his eyes cracked open and his hand reached out, shakily grabbing the back of Derek’s neck and forcing him down into a messy, grateful kiss, which Derek was more than happy to oblige him with.

When Jordan pulled away, Derek rested his head on his chest for a second, then placed a kiss there, before sitting up to look around the room for something to wipe him down with. He picked up Jordan’s discarded boxers from the floor and cleaned him up as best he could before roughly wiping his own hand, then lay back down beside him, waiting.

Jordan reached out a hesitant arm, looping around Derek’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“You good?” Derek asked, relieved to feel Jordan kiss his hair and mumble into it, then turned to smile into the crook of his neck with his own smile. They lay in silence for a while, Derek enjoying the simplicity of just watching Jordan’s chest rise and fall as his hand rested gently against it. He almost complained when Jordan turned so that they were facing one another, his eyes intently focused on Derek’s own once again and immediately biting back a gasp as without warning Jordan reached out to stroke along Derek’s still swollen length though his jeans.

“Do you want me to…?” Jordan’s voice drifted off uncertainly, and there was a frown on his face that Derek couldn’t help kiss away, “I… don’t know if I could… as good… but…”

Derek would not say out loud how adorable an embarrassed-sounding Jordan was, but he would think it over and over and smile internally.

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling against his lips, “this was about you,” though part of him was aching to get back to his own room and get his hands on himself, no matter how good it felt being snuggled up to Jordan as he was.

“But doesn’t it… isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Sure. But it’s fine. I’ll… deal with it later,” he added, knowing his cheeks flushed at his own words. Jordan sucked his lower lip into his mouth and kept palming at him despite Derek’s words, leaving Derek helpless but to groan against him.

“Derek. Don’t you want me to see?”

Derek’s hand reached up instantly to cup Jordan’s face, forcing him to look at him. “If you want me, I’m yours, Jordan. And you can see all of me. Anything you want. Anything at all,” which had Jordan smiling again, then raising his eyebrows as if to prompt him on.

Derek kept Jordan’s gaze as he reached down, fumbling open his own button and fly, shifting just enough to free himself and his cock springing out thickly against Jordan’s thigh. Jordan’s eyes fell to look at Derek pressed up against him and smiled, looking pleased with himself, then leaned over Derek and pressed him onto his back, encouraging him to stay there. Jordan shifted to make himself comfortable, propping himself up on one arm, his eyes fixed on Derek’s hand expectantly.

Derek’s cock jumped in response at that look, and he knew from here on out, Jordan would be able to get him to do literally anything he wanted him to. He wrapped his hand around himself, groaning deeply at the contact and bucking his hips up a little without any control over the movement. Jordan bit down on his own lip at that, his eyes riveted as Derek began stroking himself.

“Derek,” he breathed, wonder in his voice that only added to the feeling building in Derek as he quickened his pace, his other hand reaching down to cup his balls. Jordan’s eyes widened and his tongue darted out to flick against his lips as he kept watching.

Derek let his knees fall open, and to his surprise, Jordan wriggled down the bed, transfixed by Derek’s hands. Derek may have felt a little self conscious for a few seconds, but the looks Jordan kept sneaking up at him, and the way he stared open mouthed at him touching himself did nothing but make Derek groan low and loud, completely forgetting even the thought of feeling nervous.

“Jordan,” he stuttered out, and Jordan looked startled at first, but then pleased at the use of his name. Derek gave up any lingering sense of holding back then, throwing his head back against the pillow and working himself furiously. Jordan’s name was on his lips with the final thrust that tipped him over the edge, coming in thick stripes over his own chest. Jordan’s smile was a mile wide as he looked up at Derek with an expression that read nothing but awe.

Derek closed his eyes as he took a moment to get his breath back, but they shot open again at the feel of Jordan swiping his finger through the come on his chest and sucking it into his mouth with a soft hum. The way he darted his tongue out over his fingertip for more of the taste Derek was sure was going to have him hard again in seconds, but then Jordan’s expression became tender as he mirrored Derek’s earlier actions and wiped him down, and Derek felt himself grinning like an idiot. Happiness settled in Derek’s chest at the thought of many more times like this for them together, if Jordan allowed it, if Jordan wanted it, and god, how Derek hoped that he wanted it.

They turned back to face each other, far too spent to begin the conversation that they needed to have, yet unable to keep their hands and eyes away from each other. Instead, Jordan whispered, sounding so hopeful himself, a single request for him to stay.

Derek answered by gesturing for Jordan to move so that they could wriggle beneath the duvet, but not before removing his shirt and waiting for him to do the same. He pressed one more lingering kiss to Jordan’s lips and took a moment to trace his fingers through the stubble at his jaw. Then he pulled him close, sighing with contentment at the feel of Jordan curled naked against him.

 

As Nature Intended

As Nature Intended Edit 2

When you first learn that you are an Omega, you learn all sorts of things you never imagined you would need to know when you were growing up. The essentials: Heat suppressants, scent masking, how to handle an Alpha that is scenting you, and of course, the laws that are in place to protect you, in a society that is accepting and progressive, yet still has elements of its attitudes stuck firmly in the past. You also learn that through no fault of your own, or conscious effort, it is possible for an Omega to adjust their body chemistry, to make themselves ready to do what some feel is their sole purpose in life: to breed.

Presenting as an Omega at the age of fourteen, Elliot has grown up cautious, distrustful of the world around him, yet determined to live a fulfilling life in spite of that. He is successful at work, has recently moved into a new apartment, and everything in his world appears to be falling into place. Which is, of course, exactly when his body decides to rebel, forcing ideas and urges into Elliot that he has spent his life trying to deny.

Enter reluctant Alpha, Oskar; as adamant as Elliot that he will not have his life disrupted by what he is, and just as horrified by his instincts as Elliot is finding himself about his own. Should they fight the inevitability that is their bond, that need they have for one another that will not get them a moment’s respite, or give in to just how easy, and effortless it feels between them?

Read here

Tainted By Our Choices

Tainted By Our Choices Edit 2

Tainted by our choices is a contemporary romance that has flashbacks, sex, environmental awareness, and a slight fixation on dessert. Potentially all at the same time.

Meet Jack. A successful environmental officer working within an industry that is so very far from his childhood dream of saving the planet, that he no longer recognizes himself. How he’s found himself in Houston, Texas, where he has no one, and nothing but his work for company, he tells himself repeatedly he doesn’t know. But when the place that became home had the heart sucked right out of it, and all around him were the remnants of a life he wouldn’t get to have, Jack ran, at the first opportunity given to him.

On a bright, sunny morning, Jack sees a face so familiar to him that he knows it better than his own, one that takes him back first to a beach in his childhood home of Tampa Bay, and second to a college in Boston where Jack learned – and lost – his heart.

Tainted by our choices is the story of first crushes, loves, and heartbreaks, and the fallout that left Jack clinging to his past. Join him on his rediscovery of himself, as a chance meeting reminds him of the life he always wanted to lead. Is he brave enough to live it?

The Next Step

In the whirlwind that is after their first kiss, he knows that he’s got to keep making the decisions that count. There’s too much at stake here if he flounders; it’s like now he’s allowed himself to feel even a fragment of what he thinks he truly does for him, that all the blurred images that were once his rigid world, have been wiped clear, and everything is a sharper, brighter contrast than he’s ever dared imagine.

But what’s more important, what’s become bigger than all of that, in all that time after, is the responsibility he now holds in his hands; maybe, he corrects, more accurately in his heart. Because after all that pausing, all that lashing out when things are overwhelming, now he’s dared allow himself to have a taste, there is no way to resist the need to lean in for it just once more, time and time again. And he couldn’t live with himself if he pulled away from him now, even for a second, even in a moment of doubt; because he is too important, too luminescent to ever have to be smudged with the undignified shade of his awkward hesitation, of not knowing how to start.

They’ve been dancing; oh, how long have they been dancing. One of them will step forward to claim a kiss, a touch, a smile meant only for the other, and the other will then follow, only to pull back again, then lead with his own routine. It’s dizzying, this need that swells in him, more absorbing than anything else he’s ever felt, and coupled with the knowledge, the unyielding certainty of knowing that he is wanted back, well, that’s a little intoxicating.

But he can’t misstep, he can’t hesitate for too long, can’t bear to be the one that taints even a fraction of his smile, because he is too bright, too vibrant, to be anything but happy. It shouldn’t be allowed; he will not allow it, and more important than perhaps anything else, he will not be the one to ever tarnish that smile again. He’s done it too often, both meaning and not meaning to, too wrapped up in his own confusion to ever be good enough for what he might be wanting with him.

But he does want him, that much is clear; he’s never been shy with his affection or intention, so it’s a little surprising, when he reaches out, only to see his eyes widen in a fraction of alarm, before he takes a stumbling step back.

He never stumbles. And he never wants to be the one that makes him stumble; he’s too steady, too sure of himself to let such an unwieldy creature as himself be the one that knocks the backs of his knees, the air from his lungs. The spark from his eyes.

Is he wrong? Is this step he’s proposing too much too soon, or a move that was never destined to happen?

Worry, he hears, and vulnerable, and it’s laced with self-doubt, self-preservation, and so much contradiction; it’s like the want is there, lurking right behind his irises, but beneath his skin he’s twitching, churning. Fearful to reach out, fearful to take, in case he’s pushed away, permanently this time.

He wants this; does he not already know how much he wants this? Can he not tell by the tremble in his lip, the quake of his shoulders, that he wants this, him, so very badly, yet is half-terrified to reach for it as well?

He is an anchor, a port in a storm, a safe haven when the world is too much and the rain of that world comes crashing down to drown him. But he’s also the spark that ignites him, the curve in his lip, the beating of his heart in ways he didn’t ever dare to imagine he’d get to feel, to experience in his life.

This calls for bravery, a courage that he’s not sure he’s really wielding. But he wants this, in fact, he thinks he needs it, that they both need it; maybe if he can surrender his fear of falling, and he can lose his doubt of ever being caught, then they will meet somewhere in the middle. And that loneliness that swells in his gut, that he’s sure he’s seen peering out the corners of his eyes; maybe they can lose that. Maybe they can bolster each other.

What better way to find out? What better time than now?

He has to keep going, he has to keep pushing, because if he pauses for even a second, that strength and certainty he’s pretending to feel will crash and crumble, and if he steps back, for even a moment, maybe he’ll see in his eyes that this, he, is not really what he wanted after all. Not for more than a frivolity, a passing moment, a shiny new thing to brighten one of his endless days before discarding him again.

He can’t be that. He is not that. But what he is, is terrified; how can it be possible to feel so many emotions all at once? Is this what they always warned him against? Not that they could make you weak, but that they would overwhelm you; blur into and over one another, until you have no sense of time or meaning, when you are trying to feel, and be everything, all the versions of yourself, all at the same time?

He smiles then, delighted as he steps back just enough to really look at him, gripping tight enough to reassure that this is what he wants as well. It is freeing, to be on the receiving end of such beauty, to stare it down as though it is a sun he knows is going to burn him, but he won’t ever mind being forever scorched by. Not by him, and not like this; not when he’s leaning in to kiss him all over again, and the door slams closed behind them, and his heart sings at the knowledge that it is coming home.

As Nature Intended

As Nature Intended Edit 2

When you first learn that you are an Omega, you learn all sorts of things you never imagined you would need to know when you were growing up. The essentials: Heat suppressants, scent masking, how to handle an Alpha that is scenting you, and of course, the laws that are in place to protect you, in a society that is accepting and progressive, yet still has elements of its attitudes stuck firmly in the past. You also learn that through no fault of your own, or conscious effort, it is possible for an Omega to adjust their body chemistry, to make themselves ready to do what some feel is their sole purpose in life: to breed.

Presenting as an Omega at the age of fourteen, Elliot has grown up cautious, distrustful of the world around him, yet determined to live a fulfilling life in spite of that. He is successful at work, has recently moved into a new apartment, and everything in his world appears to be falling into place. Which is, of course, exactly when his body decides to rebel, forcing ideas and urges into Elliot that he has spent his life trying to deny.

Enter reluctant Alpha, Oskar; as adamant as Elliot that he will not have his life disrupted by what he is, and just as horrified by his instincts as Elliot is finding himself about his own. Should they fight the inevitability that is their bond, that need they have for one another that will not get them a moment’s respite, or give in to just how easy, and effortless it feels between them?

Read here