( it isn't as though he doesn't know his own cycle — he's painfully aware of it, thank you not at all — but it's more than he would prefer to ignore it if he could, and he had until recently. could still, probably, if not for the meddling of some horrendous alpha and his penchant for sticking his nose quite where it doesn't belong.
( he'd been just fine before, getting through his heats without a partner, even if it meant riding out the pain and the want and the emptiness for days on end until the whole thing had run its course and he was allowed to go about his business as he wanted. as he should be able to without his stupid physiology getting in the way. )
he's felt it coming for a good couple of days now, building and digging teeth into the back of his neck as an alpha should and driving him to make a nest that he still isn't quite satisfied with, even if he's given himself over to the idea of spending the better part of a week curled in on himself in the very center of it. it isn't ideal, it isn't what he wants but there aren't a whole lot of options when he refuses to ask for help. he won't. he can't.
his pride won't allow for it.
which is why he just barely catches himself from tripping over his own two bare feet when he finds nicholas in his kitchen, setting bags down on the counter — it has to be vash's doing, asking him to check in on him or some such, in tune with damn near everything about him, much as he likes to keep his secrecy, they are twins — and he congratulates himself on not choking on his tongue, setting his post-workout water bottle down calmly and setting the alpha with what he hopes is an intimidating stare. )
What are you doing here?
( never mind the way his nostrils flare, or the spike of the sweet scent of his heat rearing up to bite him squarely in the ass. )
[ the thing about the savarems is that they're both pains in his asses. for different reasons and to different degrees, of course, but they're aligned in their stubborn refusal to ask for help when they actually need it. nick doesn't try to get involved with nai more than he has to, which he's pretty sure the guy prefers anyway, but it also means that, yes, he's here on vash's behest, putting away his bougie groceries in his bougie kitchen because nai won't accept anything that isn't from whole foods or down to earth.
again, what a pain in the ass.
but it isn't as if nick doesn't understand. he has his own brother — even if livio isn't related to him by blood, he may as well be by now. livio's older and bigger and more than capable of taking care of himself, but old habits are hard to break and nick's always been more of a caretaker than he'd ever admit. so he puts up with helping nai through his cycles under the guise of a house call, dealing with his prickliness until he finally concedes and nick can finally fuck the heat out of him so he starts acting less like he actually has something up his ass. but if nick is honest with himself (which isn't very often), it's not a hardship for him either: both of the twins are pretty, despite nai's shitty personality, and his ruts often align with their heats anyway. and yes, maybe he has grown to care about them, too, but no one has to know that part.
he's putting some extra towels in the cupboards above the counter when nai makes his presence known, a part of him hating that he still remembers where everything is located. he doesn't bother turning around to look at nai, but he does pause mid reach, catching a whiff of nai's heat that immediately makes his mouth water and blood boil. ]
The fuck does it look like I'm doing. [ his tone is flat, voice grittier from arousal. he expected this when vash texted him, but he always forgets how potent nai's heats can be. ] You gonna just stand there pretending to be intimidating or are you gonna help put the rest of it away?
( what good is a saverem if not to be a pain in your ass? you've done this to yourself, nicholas, and you know you've done it by sticking your nose where it doesn't necessarily belong, so maybe if you wanted to mind your own business … your ass wouldn't hurt so much. ever stop to ponder that? hmm?
( that isn't necessarily true, either, because once his brother finds himself attached to someone he doesn't let go easily, and unfortunately for nai that usually ends up with whomever in his periphery whether he wants them to be or not. case in point: nicholas d. wolfwood, connoisseur of all things sarcasm and resident pain in his ass. it's a two-way street. )
having gone so long without a heat partner, he's convinced himself that he still doesn't need one — even if it's been harder to deny since nicholas had first helped him, to ignore the heat pooling in the pit of his belly like a tangible weight, the ache at his core that sharpens even now, with the alpha so close — and he's never going to be anything but stubborn at the end of it, because he doesn't need help, he doesn't need anything.
… except the grit in the other's voice sets a shiver alight at the very bottom of his spine, finds it twining upward and crawling over every vertebra like a physical touch. ) It looks like you're in my space uninvited. ( he somehow manages to bite out, even as he's coming closer to the counter to peer ( without any real interest! ) into the bags, and his lip almost curls when he sees some of what's inside. vash.
meddlesome little brother.
still, he begins pulling items out and putting them away, ducking into the refrigerator to tuck a bag of plump-looking white grapes into the fruit and vegetable drawer. ) You don't have to come running every time he calls, you know. ( he sniffs, and it's meant to be derisive, but all it does is fill his nose with the other's smoky scent and make him regret that choice immediately. his teeth are aching to bite that strong, gorgeous neck. )
[ he does mind his own business, thanks. he just has this uncurable affliction of being unable to say no to vash for anything, even when it comes to his brother.
he rolls his eyes, storing away the last box of organic pasta before organizing his spice cabinet. nick uses the kitchen more than nai does anyway, so yes, he's going to rearrange things to how he sees fit. he's sure nai will put it back to the way it was at the end of the week and undo all his work, but it's fine. he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. god, he wants a smoke. and a fuck. maybe not in that order. ]
And you don't have to act like an asshole all the time. [ he taps out a toothpick just for something to chew on because he knows better than to light up in nai's house. ] But here we are anyway.
[ it's the same shit as always. nai says stuff like what are you doing here and you don't have to come running, yet he stands there smelling like he's two seconds away from the onset of his heat. it's irritating, made worse by his own rut — nick wishes he would just shut up and let him knot him instead of doing this entire production of nai wanting to prove that he doesn't need help, even though he does. it's a point of pride, maybe; he gets it. except their bodies could care less about their pride at the end of the day. ]
( well that. just happens to make two of them, doesn't it? not being able to say no to vash in any capacity, to both of their chagrin — probably — because narration has a feeling that neither of them want to have anything in common, much less something like that, their shared blond, bubbly menace something of a bridge between the gap they continue to make for themselves.
( they're both stubborn, they can both be petty in a myriad different ways, and what they don't realize yet is that they're two pieces that fit together better than they have any right to. even if it's only when they need to come together like this, when nai's body needs somethinghe would rather deny it so badly just because he's too proud to admit that it's easier when he doesn't have to go through it alone — )
he doesn't make the mistake of inhaling through his nose again, this time hissing a breath inward through clenched teeth as he watches him rearrange his kitchen; it's a prelude and he knows it, the niggling idea in the back of his head that nicholas is going to be in his personal space for a handful of days at best and he never fails to make himself comfortable in the interim, but it still makes his left eye twitch just for the sake of the disruption.
he holds his breath as he takes a few careful steps forward, lips peeled back in a building snarl as he pointedly reaches past nicholas and swaps the places of the black and white pepper jars on the spice rack. )
Here we are, and you can leave any time you like. ( and yet, close as they are now, the rising scent of nai's heat might as well reach a peak in its sweetness, slick already beginning to drip between his thighs, the worst kind of betrayal when he's trying to keep up a facade like this. )
[ he watches nai swap the black and white pepper jars, bringing him much closer than he was before, and nick takes the invitation for what it isn't, one hand closing on nai's wrist as he crowds him back against the counter. there's amusement in his expression despite the way his own lips are curled back to bare his teeth in a rakish grin, his free hand running down nai's side to slip between his thighs.
he could smell it on nai the moment he stepped into the kitchen, but his touch confirms it, cupping his cunt through his sweats and feeling the dampness already there. ]
Ain't a matter if I can or can't. [ he replaces his hand with his knee, lifting it to scent nai's slick on his fingers, heady and sweet. he meets nai's gaze as he runs his tongue over them, savoring what little he can taste. ] You don't want me to leave.
[ because they both know what they really want, beneath all of nai's blustering. nai can deny it for the rest of his life, but nick knows better. it just makes the surrender all the sweeter in the end. ]
( he isn't expecting him to close the distance between them — not yet, at least, this back-and-forth having only just begun — and it startles the wind out of him when his lower back meets the edge of the counter, more so when that hand snakes between their bodies and takes its fill of the heat between his legs through the fabric of his sweats, and he's only just able to bite back a betraying sound.
it catches in the back of his throat as something tangible, something he can taste as his teeth click together audibly; the taste of want, of need lingering in the air between them as he snarls, watches that tongue lifting the ghost of his heat from his fingers and it's almost too much all at once. almost enough to have him folding like a poorly-built house of cards and asking for more.
( but it's never been that simple and it's never going to be, because his pride is going to get in the way every. single. time. ) )
You're disgusting. ( he growls out, thighs pressing tight to either side of the knee wedged between them, telling himself it's to keep him from moving. from making it worse.)Filthy.( and still, the wet patch at the front of his sweats spreads wider, the sweet scent of his arousal kicking up a notch or several, and when had his hands fisted themselves in the front of nicholas' shirt?
when had he begun to hold on as though his very life depended on it? and when had his pulse begun that erratic, staccato beat at the side of his throat? ) I would never want you to stay. ( oh, but his body does.
something he is painfully reminded of when his cunt throbs and clenches down on nothing. empty, so empty — )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breeding kink/omegaverse
no subject
( he'd been just fine before, getting through his heats without a partner, even if it meant riding out the pain and the want and the emptiness for days on end until the whole thing had run its course and he was allowed to go about his business as he wanted. as he should be able to without his stupid physiology getting in the way. )
he's felt it coming for a good couple of days now, building and digging teeth into the back of his neck as an alpha should and driving him to make a nest that he still isn't quite satisfied with, even if he's given himself over to the idea of spending the better part of a week curled in on himself in the very center of it. it isn't ideal, it isn't what he wants but there aren't a whole lot of options when he refuses to ask for help. he won't. he can't.
his pride won't allow for it.
which is why he just barely catches himself from tripping over his own two bare feet when he finds nicholas in his kitchen, setting bags down on the counter — it has to be vash's doing, asking him to check in on him or some such, in tune with damn near everything about him, much as he likes to keep his secrecy, they are twins — and he congratulates himself on not choking on his tongue, setting his post-workout water bottle down calmly and setting the alpha with what he hopes is an intimidating stare. )
What are you doing here?
( never mind the way his nostrils flare, or the spike of the sweet scent of his heat rearing up to bite him squarely in the ass. )
no subject
again, what a pain in the ass.
but it isn't as if nick doesn't understand. he has his own brother — even if livio isn't related to him by blood, he may as well be by now. livio's older and bigger and more than capable of taking care of himself, but old habits are hard to break and nick's always been more of a caretaker than he'd ever admit. so he puts up with helping nai through his cycles under the guise of a house call, dealing with his prickliness until he finally concedes and nick can finally fuck the heat out of him so he starts acting less like he actually has something up his ass. but if nick is honest with himself (which isn't very often), it's not a hardship for him either: both of the twins are pretty, despite nai's shitty personality, and his ruts often align with their heats anyway. and yes, maybe he has grown to care about them, too, but no one has to know that part.
he's putting some extra towels in the cupboards above the counter when nai makes his presence known, a part of him hating that he still remembers where everything is located. he doesn't bother turning around to look at nai, but he does pause mid reach, catching a whiff of nai's heat that immediately makes his mouth water and blood boil. ]
The fuck does it look like I'm doing. [ his tone is flat, voice grittier from arousal. he expected this when vash texted him, but he always forgets how potent nai's heats can be. ] You gonna just stand there pretending to be intimidating or are you gonna help put the rest of it away?
no subject
( that isn't necessarily true, either, because once his brother finds himself attached to someone he doesn't let go easily, and unfortunately for nai that usually ends up with whomever in his periphery whether he wants them to be or not. case in point: nicholas d. wolfwood, connoisseur of all things sarcasm and resident pain in his ass. it's a two-way street. )
having gone so long without a heat partner, he's convinced himself that he still doesn't need one — even if it's been harder to deny since nicholas had first helped him, to ignore the heat pooling in the pit of his belly like a tangible weight, the ache at his core that sharpens even now, with the alpha so close — and he's never going to be anything but stubborn at the end of it, because he doesn't need help, he doesn't need anything.
… except the grit in the other's voice sets a shiver alight at the very bottom of his spine, finds it twining upward and crawling over every vertebra like a physical touch. ) It looks like you're in my space uninvited. ( he somehow manages to bite out, even as he's coming closer to the counter to peer ( without any real interest! ) into the bags, and his lip almost curls when he sees some of what's inside. vash.
meddlesome little brother.
still, he begins pulling items out and putting them away, ducking into the refrigerator to tuck a bag of plump-looking white grapes into the fruit and vegetable drawer. ) You don't have to come running every time he calls, you know. ( he sniffs, and it's meant to be derisive, but all it does is fill his nose with the other's smoky scent and make him regret that choice immediately. his teeth are aching to bite that strong, gorgeous neck. )
no subject
he rolls his eyes, storing away the last box of organic pasta before organizing his spice cabinet. nick uses the kitchen more than nai does anyway, so yes, he's going to rearrange things to how he sees fit. he's sure nai will put it back to the way it was at the end of the week and undo all his work, but it's fine. he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. god, he wants a smoke. and a fuck. maybe not in that order. ]
And you don't have to act like an asshole all the time. [ he taps out a toothpick just for something to chew on because he knows better than to light up in nai's house. ] But here we are anyway.
[ it's the same shit as always. nai says stuff like what are you doing here and you don't have to come running, yet he stands there smelling like he's two seconds away from the onset of his heat. it's irritating, made worse by his own rut — nick wishes he would just shut up and let him knot him instead of doing this entire production of nai wanting to prove that he doesn't need help, even though he does. it's a point of pride, maybe; he gets it. except their bodies could care less about their pride at the end of the day. ]
no subject
( they're both stubborn, they can both be petty in a myriad different ways, and what they don't realize yet is that they're two pieces that fit together better than they have any right to. even if it's only when they need to come together like this, when nai's body needs somethinghe would rather deny it so badly just because he's too proud to admit that it's easier when he doesn't have to go through it alone — )
he doesn't make the mistake of inhaling through his nose again, this time hissing a breath inward through clenched teeth as he watches him rearrange his kitchen; it's a prelude and he knows it, the niggling idea in the back of his head that nicholas is going to be in his personal space for a handful of days at best and he never fails to make himself comfortable in the interim, but it still makes his left eye twitch just for the sake of the disruption.
he holds his breath as he takes a few careful steps forward, lips peeled back in a building snarl as he pointedly reaches past nicholas and swaps the places of the black and white pepper jars on the spice rack. )
Here we are, and you can leave any time you like. ( and yet, close as they are now, the rising scent of nai's heat might as well reach a peak in its sweetness, slick already beginning to drip between his thighs, the worst kind of betrayal when he's trying to keep up a facade like this. )
no subject
he could smell it on nai the moment he stepped into the kitchen, but his touch confirms it, cupping his cunt through his sweats and feeling the dampness already there. ]
Ain't a matter if I can or can't. [ he replaces his hand with his knee, lifting it to scent nai's slick on his fingers, heady and sweet. he meets nai's gaze as he runs his tongue over them, savoring what little he can taste. ] You don't want me to leave.
[ because they both know what they really want, beneath all of nai's blustering. nai can deny it for the rest of his life, but nick knows better. it just makes the surrender all the sweeter in the end. ]
no subject
it catches in the back of his throat as something tangible, something he can taste as his teeth click together audibly; the taste of want, of need lingering in the air between them as he snarls, watches that tongue lifting the ghost of his heat from his fingers and it's almost too much all at once. almost enough to have him folding like a poorly-built house of cards and asking for more.
( but it's never been that simple and it's never going to be, because his pride is going to get in the way every. single. time. ) )
You're disgusting. ( he growls out, thighs pressing tight to either side of the knee wedged between them, telling himself it's to keep him from moving. from making it worse. ) Filthy. ( and still, the wet patch at the front of his sweats spreads wider, the sweet scent of his arousal kicking up a notch or several, and when had his hands fisted themselves in the front of nicholas' shirt?
when had he begun to hold on as though his very life depended on it? and when had his pulse begun that erratic, staccato beat at the side of his throat? ) I would never want you to stay. ( oh, but his body does.
something he is painfully reminded of when his cunt throbs and clenches down on nothing. empty, so empty — )