bakerstreet | Fire in my blood, the instincts I can't fight!

Fire in my blood, the instincts I can't fight!

THE IN HEAT/IN RUT AU MEME
not an alpha/beta/omega meme

There's no need for elaborate backstories for this AU. You go into heat, rut, whatever you'd like to call it. You've always done so since you were of age to do so. It's a socially accepted norm, and people have gotten used to the difficulties that come with the mating seasons. Life goes on.

Isn't this alpha/beta/omega, then? No, not at all. In this meme, there are no gender-variant genitalia unless your character comes prepackaged with those. No giant cocks - again, unless your character is already packing - or self-lubricating assholes or anal wombs, and no knotting. Unless that's your thing. There's also no set in stone roles with regards to dominance and submission, and some people do not even feel the inclination towards either. Still, there are a few similarities, mainly being that the pheromones of others can put someone into heat that was not in it before and the bond between mates. In addition, some humans/human-stand-ins have created packlike dynamics in response, but this is not universal.

In this meme, it's just regular old human...oids feeling the urge for sex. And by "urge," we of course mean all-consuming drive. If characters choose to ignore that urge, it will backfire on them. The more they put it off, the more they will lose their control, becoming more irritable and aggressive, and eventually be nothing but a rutting animal until the need to mate is satisfied. Not all heats call for mating, of course, and most people can just relieve themselves, but when you do mate, you feel the urge to stay by their side and essentially "nest." These desires don't always pan out into offspring, and mating isn't forever unless it's mutually decided upon. However, impregnating your mate is said to be one of the most euphoric experiences a person can have, even if some people only mate because they want to utterly possess someone, as mates are bonded for a while.

If there's anything that's to your fancy that's been left out, go ahead and add it in. Play it how you'd like!

HOW TO PLAY

Comment with your character and preferences.

Include what you're interested and not interested in.

Respond to others!

PROMPTS

first heat: Baby's first heat. YOU'RE A TEENAGER/LATE BLOOMER AND WHAT IS THIS?

old hand: You've done this a million times, but it never gets any easier.

happen to be here: You're not picky. You can't afford to be. You'll take anybody who's nearby.

old faithful: You're going to the person you always go to in order to relieve your problem.

worked something out: The two of you aren't involved. You just help each other out.

unexpected: You never expected to rut with this person, but here you are.

forbidden: AKA the obligatory incest or age difference option.

volunteer: You've offered yourself up out of the kindness of your heart.

tribute: This isn't your offer. You're the offer from others, a gift for someone powerful to sate their appetite.

mating: You've decided to go one step further and make your relationship deeper.

nesting: Aaah, (temporary) domestic bliss. And lots of fucking. Lots and lots of fucking. Like, you'll barely be able to stand.

bonding: The bond, which is mildly psychic and intensely physical, makes sex even more intense.

the natural conclusion: Heat calls for pregnancy. Get someone pregnant.

already pregnant: Unfortunately, being knocked up doesn't abate your partner's desires. Or yours.

mates for life: Now you're absolutely certain that you want to be with no one else. Of course, this means you'll be in synch with their heat for the rest of forever.

save you: You've been saved from the advances of an undesired mate by someone who may be much more suited. Show your gratitude?

cockfight: Two people want the same mate. That won't do. There are ways to figure that out, not always involving fists.

increase in dominance: Exactly what it says.

increase in submission: Again, exactly what it says.

unexpected dominance: No one expects you to ever be dominant. Prove them wrong.

protect: You want to protect your mate from others, and that means putting your scent all over them.

set off by someone else: You were doing fine until you got a whiff of someone else's pheromones.

resisting temptation: Your heart belongs to someone. You want to stay out of this "heat" thing. You want to rise above it. Whatever it may be, you just have to not take the bait. Easier said than done.

all worked up: You're beginning to lose control and yourself. Quick, do something before you're jumping anything that moves.

pack: As mentioned prior, some people, especially those far out from civilization proper, have formed packs that hold to the more traditional alpha structure. Of course, these packs come with their own rules when it comes to heat and mating.

suitable partner: The desire for certain mates can come from a subconscious level, and you can find yourself aroused by someone showing how strong they are (they can protect you), how curvaceous they look (that must mean they're fertile), or any other number of traits that can benefit you.

desperation: You'll take anyone! Anything!

final release: You've reached your breaking point and your mindless. At least you'll get relief.

fighter: Part of your process is seeing who's worthy of you by testing their mettle. That, or you want to fight anything.

off your meds: It's fairly rare, but some can get blockers for their heat. What if those blockers run out? Why, it makes your heat ten times worse!

noncon: They don't want this. You don't want to stop this.

dubcon: You say no, but your body says yes and you can't stop loving it.

calm you down: Whether it's to fuck or to fight, you're going mad, and they have to bring you back down to Earth.

territorial: How dare someone look at what belongs to you? You'll have to make things right.

odd man out: For some reason, you don't go into heat. Never have. Being with you is pretty relaxing, and some find it appealing to not have to deal with pheromones that aren't theirs. You do have to learn how to appreciate their problems, though.

WILDCARD

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Ben steps into the hotel room - more a suite, really - he's booked for the next few days. He checks the pantry and fridge, grateful to find them fully stocked as to his specifications. This isn't his first go-round, he's learned what is and isn't a necessity and he and his guest will want for nothing.

His guest. Peter. He'd say 'friend' but he doesn't know if that's the right term exactly.

They'd met on an app, of all places. Sure, it was designed for long-term arrangements, but Ben's not stupid, he knows that more often than not, the users prefer shorter term flings. It's been months, though, and like clockwork he'll receive a we're still on, right and he agrees. Because ...

He hasn't looked for anyone else since the match. He hasn't succumbed to the grass is always greener mentality. It's good, their arrangement. He's glad to help. Sometimes, he finds himself wishing that they could see each other outside of the small window each month they have, but ...

That's not what this is about.

Peter arrives already on edge. It's been a long month for him, and it was a relief to know that Ben was still on for their arrangement. Before Ben, Peter used to spend this time alone, rutting against toys that never quite did the trick. But Ben is so much different. He gets Peter. He makes Peter feel so, so good (and safe) every time that Peter doesn't know what he will do when Ben finally finds a mate.

(Part of Peter hopes that never happens.)

"Hey. Thanks again." He drops his overnight bag where he usually is told to leave his things and then looks expectantly at Ben. There's an electricity humming underneath his skin, but they've done this before. They know what the other likes, and Peter? He likes when Ben tells him what to do.

Ben can smell the need as soon as Peter arrives. They've had their fair share of learning curves to adjust to, but he likes to think that he's got a pretty good grasp of what Peter wants (what he needs) and that he's able to provide.

Even though he's not necessarily what a man like him is assumed to be. Ben in real life is a little shy and awkward and more prone to trying to make himself look smaller rather than taking up space. Here, though, he's anything but those things. Because that's not what Peter wants.

(It's probably also a huge reason that Ben hasn't tried broaching the subject of maybe seeing each other outside of these walls.)

"I've told you that you don't need to thank me, Peter", he begins, his voice even and low. "I want to help. Go on - get water and towels. Then we can begin."

"Right." Peter hesitates, just a little, before adding, "Sir." Submitting to Ben...to anyone, but mostly it's just been Ben...makes his heart race. Like, this is what he wants, and it's only now he can indulge.

Outside these 4 walls, Peter is a respected scientist. But here? Once a month? He's just Ben's.

He disappears into the bathroom for towels (big, white fluffy towels) and leaves them, along with water, next to the bed. He knows that this is a necessity, knows when that steady thrum beneath his skin becomes a live wire that all he is going to want is Ben.

As if Ben's not on edge enough just to be in close proximity to Peter, he has to go and call him sir. Amazing how the three-letter word can set the blood in his veins on fire ... but only if it's tumbling from Peter's lips.

He toes his shoes off and removes his jacket, carefully rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he awaits Peter's return. He's not desperate yet, so Ben sees no need to rush anything along too quickly.

Ben hasn't always been a nice (or particularly good) man, but as of late, he's been trying to overcome old habits and be better. It's easy with Peter. He doesn't overthink things. He pays attention and acts accordingly.

And - it's good.

He watches Peter return with the towels and water just as he's asked, but even when everything is where it belongs, he doesn't move from where he stands, resting against the sturdy table.

"How are you feeling?"

Peter moves into Ben's space, not touching but close enough that he could be (with permission). He breathes in the scent of the other man, that smell that will soon be all over him, and he wants that more than anything.

"My skin is on fire...sir." There's that beat again before Peter gives into what he wants. He lowers his gaze, playing up his role as awkward boy in heat as much as he can while his mind is still his. "All I can think about is you. I was working on..." He pauses again. Peter's work is generally classified, and Ben knows this. Knows that Peter once had to tell his supervisor about the man (Ben) he lets take care of him in these moments so they could ensure Ben wasn’t a spy or something. "All I could think about was the way you make this better. Will you make it better, sir?"

The proximity is more than enough to ramp Ben's desire up even further - as if such a thing is even possible. It's been a long month, Peter is standing in front of him, and all Ben wants to do is worship at the altar of his body for as long as he's allowed.

He hopes that his expression doesn't give his thoughts away. But there is a moment - just a moment - when he thinks the confident mask falls away, exposing just how helplessly and hopelessly head over heels he is.

But for as much as he wishes that all I can think about is you is true, Ben knows, deep down, it's just part of the game.

Still, there's something to be said for how much Peter trusts him, this man he's met online. If he didn't, they wouldn't still be meeting month after month. Nor would they know more than just each other's first names and rudimentary basics, and here Peter's informed his supervisor about their arrangement. Others might have bristled at the very thought of having a background check run on them, but not Ben. Anything to make Peter comfortable. Anything to prove that he is not a threat. Anything that keeps them within each other's orbits, however selfish that makes him.

Ben leans in all the closer still, until his lips brush over Peter's while he speaks - not a full fledged kiss, not yet.

"As long as you're so good for me, I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure you forget all about your aches and pains, you know I will."

Edited 2022-04-11 05:55 (UTC)

Peter leans into the not-quite-kiss, hungry for anything that Ben will give him. He wants more, but he wants to be good, too. He wants to show Ben how good he can be (and that's when Peter knows he is in heat because all he can think about is pleasing Ben, giving Sir anything he wants, everything that his Supervisor warned him about before doing that very thorough background check).

"Let me..." Peter looks up through his eyelashes, and he knows he must look flushed as his heat is slowly taking over his body. Just being in this room with Ben can do that sometimes. He doesn't question it, even though he knows enough biology to know that that means something. That he likes Ben, maybe, for more than the firm leash he holds over his pleasure once a month. "Let me show you how good I can be, Sir."

There's no hesitation now as Peter falls into that headspace where he belongs to Ben. He trusts Ben absolutely, and he finds it easier and easier each time to show how much he trusts the other man. He knows Ben won't do anything to violate that trust. They've had this discussion (outside of this time of the month), and they know what the other is willing to give.

All Peter has to do now is just submit to it. "Want to forget who I am and just be yours, Sir. Please."

Ben wants to give Peter everything - and that's the problem, isn't it? Peter's got a life outside of the walls of this room, and there probably isn't space in it for Ben. Not more than the few days a month they've eked out for this, so Ben can give Peter some relief so he can return to his real life and live it to the fullest.

He does steal a quick kiss - wholly chaste, all things considered, and then brushes his thumb against Peter's full bottom lip ever so gently. "You're always so good to me", he murmurs, distracted. "You have the prettiest mouth I've ever seen. I think about it often - too often for my own good, I'm sure."

Ben isn't so involved in his own thoughts that he can't detect the shift in Peter. Internally, he chides himself. Pull yourself together, man. This isn't about you. Be what Peter needs you to be.

So he does. He stands taller, his voice is firmer when he speaks again, the command is clear (as is the warning if Peter doesn't comply).

"Get ready for me."

That voice-- the tone of command -- sends a tremor of want down Peter's spine. He complies almost immediately, stepping away from Ben to slowly undress -- shoes, socks, pants, shirt. He folds each piece neatly and leaves them where expected. With each movement, he looks at Ben, seeking approval in each of his gestures as if that is what he craves.

Naked, the air in the room seems to calm his fevered flesh. He falls backwards on the bed, looking up at the man in front of him. He's got lube in one hand and his legs spread just wide enough that he can slip his hand down between his thighs, working himself open in a way that isn't quite enough. He wants this to be Ben's hand, but he wants to be good too. Wants to make it good for Ben.

(And if that's not a sign that he's head over heels, he doesn't know what is.)

"Like this, sir?"

Ben watches Peter disrobe with the kind of intensity that suggests that he is committing every single moment to memory - he is - nodding his approval every time Peter looks to him, searching for acknowledgement that he's doing exactly as asked.

He wonders if Peter has the slightest inkling how frayed and thin his self-control is, how desperately he wants to take what is being offered, how much he wants to lose himself in giving everything of himself if it means giving Peter any little measure of relief.

Ben manages to keep his expression neutral - except the desire shining in his eyes. He does not begin undressing, but he does make sure Peter's watching as he presses a large palm against the front of his trousers, where he is obviously hard, inhaling sharply at the touch. It's not the same as Peter's touch, but it reminds him vividly why they're here.

There's a hitch in his voice when he finds enough of it to reply.

"Just like that. It helps, doesn't it? But it's not quite enough. It's not me touching you, helping you along, soothing your need. God, you smell amazing."

"No, sir." Peter's voice breaks as he presses a finger deep inside. It's not enough to quench the fire burning under his skin. If he doesn't find that spot, that place inside of him that makes him fall apart, he knows that he will simply combust. But he can't do it alone. He needs Ben.

He lets his legs fall wider apart, pressing another finger inside, and he's fully on display now for Ben, and he hopes Ben can see how much he needs this (needs this to be him, no one else, just Ben).

His eyes travel down Ben's body to his clothed but very obvious erection. Peter knows that Ben wants him, but seeing physical evidence of that fact only makes him work harder. He arches his back slightly, pressing down into his fingers as if he's imagining they are Ben. Ben inside of him, claiming him, taking care of him.

"It's not enough, sir. I need you. Need your hands, please...or...your cock...or if you want, I can fuck myself on one of your toys?" This is something they have done in the past, when this was still new between them. Lately though, it has been Ben and just Ben, and Peter likes that, too. He likes when Ben scents him and fills him up until he is just Ben's.

(And maybe he'd be okay with that arrangement outside this room, too.)

Ben knows that it isn't nearly enough to relieve Peter's discomfort. While he's not a cruel man - especially in this - he does want to just sit and watch for a little while. He's never seen a lovelier sight than Peter flushed and panting, wanting him to take control.

What a pretty, perfect picture Peter makes in the moment. How wonderfully obscene, the words as they spill from his lips as he fucks his fingers and Ben bears witness to the wetness glistening upon them every time Peter pulls out, the noises every time he pushes back in.

Ben has to shut his eyes for a moment just to center himself.

"I didn't bring them this time, sweetheart", he murmurs gruffly, working at the buttons of his shirt in an attempt to remove it as quickly as possible. "I was in such a hurry to get here that I just ... forgot."

Here, he pauses, looking to Peter apologetically, shirt half open, hair hanging in his face, looking for all intents and purposes like he's uncertain if he'll be enough. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I don't need them when I have you." He openly stares at the exposed skin of Ben's chest, and he wants to touch, wants to reassure Ben that he is more than enough. But Peter, even when he's like this, just can't stop talking. He can't stop working Ben up until he gives him what he wants. "Unless...you want me to wait here, all open and ready for you, while you go down to the front desk and order something. Mmm...think the concierge can accommodate that? Remember when you fucked me open with your vibrator." Peter closes his eyes, remembering that evening in particularly vivid detail. It had been one of their first times together and so, so good.

"But nothing...nothing compares..." His voice is high and breathy as he looks at Ben. "...to when you finally fucked me bare and claimed me. That's all I really need, sir. To be yours. Make me yours."

Ben hopes that Peter doesn't notice his fingers tremble as he finishes with the buttons and pushes his shirt from his shoulders, uncaring of where and how it lands. Next, he works on his belt, but his eyes, as always, are trained fully on Peter instead.

He loves the way Peter babbles when he's so on the verge of losing himself completely, loves to hear his stream of consciousness thoughts without filters.

And to be honest, the suggestion to have the concierge help their predicament is appealing in a way. But he can't stand the thought of leaving Peter here to work through his heat alone, and so just a suggestion is what it will remain.

"That would be awfully cruel of me to leave you here alone", he starts, removing his belt and letting it drop the floor below, waiting a short moment before working his slacks open. "I think we'll have to make do with what we've got. My hands, my mouth, my cock, it's all yours."

I am all yours.

"I remember that night. Nothing felt sweeter than sinking into you and feeling like the heat of you would burn me alive. You were perfect. You're always perfect."

He swallows hard, suddenly nervous all over again although he knows there's no real reason why - Peter's seen him naked a handful of times by now. Nothing to be embarrassed about.

He shoves his trousers down - he isn't wearing anything underneath - and kicks them off into places unknown, standing tall and proud and letting Peter take in the sight of him.

"Is that what you want, my beautiful boy? To be mine?"

Peter is too far gone to notice anything different in the way that Ben undresses. All he can see is Ben as he sinks down on his fingers (three now, still not enough) and then slowly, teasingly removes them. He is now so far down, so far in that headspace where he just talks and does everything Ben tells him to do. Fuck, he's so far down that if this is all Ben gave him -- his own fingers -- he'd take it. He lets out the softest moan at the thought, as he sinks his hips down again.

"Mmm. It would be cruel, sir, but your boy understands. He would wait all night, even if it hurt because..." Peter bites back another moan. "He loves what you do to him. I love your mouth...your hands...your cock."

He watches as Ben's belt and then with the briefest of pauses trousers fall to the floor. He is in love with what he sees, knows already how it will feel like to have Ben inside him. When they first did this, Peter remembers his mouth watering at the sight of Ben naked. It's no different all these months later. He loves what he sees, and he knows that Ben knows this (nothing can hide the look of pure hunger and admiration on Peter's face).

"It's the only thing I want, sir." And Peter means this, says this with such earnestness that he wonders if they should discuss this later. Does Ben want to be his mate? Maybe? But Peter can't ask that now, wouldn't want to ask that when he is face to face with the cock of his dreams (would totally and explicitly ask that now). "I want it more than your cock. To belong to you. For everyone to look and know that they can't touch me because I smell like you. I want you to come home to me in heat, working myself open like this, just waiting for you to fuck me...isn't that...isn't that what you want too, sir? Just tell me that's what you want and you can have me."

Ben's tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips as he watches Peter take three of his own fingers easily - fingers that Ben's studied, fingers that he knows are long and thick (not as thick as his, but thick enough) and the air in the room is so heavy with Peter's scent that Ben is hardly able to concentrate.

By now, he knows that when Peter talks and talks and talks like this, it's all instinct. He'll say or do just about anything if it means Ben will just fuck him already. Still, there's something intoxicating in hearing Peter assert that he would wait, even if it hurt him to do so, just because Ben tells him to.

Ben likes to draw things out, before he gives into his urges, too, but he would never leave Peter wanting for long. Never make him suffer like that.

"That's right. That's my good boy. Look how well you take your fingers. You're gonna be so ready to take my cock, aren't you?"

It's that precise expression on Peter's face - the admiration, the hunger, the need - that inspires Ben to curl his fingers around his already rock hard cock and stroke, slowly, giving Peter a bit of a show.

At least until Peter says the things Ben's been dying to hear and nearly makes him lose control of himself right then and there. His breath catches audibly in his throat and he's sure he's lost any semblance of the confident persona he puts on for these meetings, his eyes wide, pained. For as much as he wants to admit that yes, he does want all those things and more, the logical part of his brain screams that Peter can't know what he's saying, doesn't realize the scope of what he's asking for.

It only takes a few steps to reach the bed, where Ben sits carefully, searches out Peter's free than to hold. The longing in his voice is palpable as he brings their hands to his lips, presses a kiss to Peter's knuckles.

"More than anything, that's what I want."

There are rules for what they are doing. Social parameters designed to protect them, Peter in particular, and Peter knows these parameters. He knows the rules, too, for the app. That anything new should be discussed outside the window of his heat. That he shouldn't under any circumstances
offer to be mated (a binding contract) when he has three fingers deep inside of his ass, the cock of his dreams so, so close, and the only tangible thought being yours over and over.

He knows this, and yet when Ben is lying next to him, telling him that he wants this too, Peter can't stop himself. He exposes his neck completely to Ben, that spot right where his neck meets his collar bone bare, an open invitation for Ben to mark him permanently. It would be, Peter knows, something that he can't take back, and yet he wants it. He wants to show the world that he belongs to Ben.

"Please, sir. Take what belongs to you already, and you can have me....even when I'm not in heat, do you think I'll ever be able to get enough of you... Come home to this every day, to me, naked, asking if you had a good day at the office... Fucking me on your own bed." Peter moves their joined hand down Ben's body as best he can. "I can tell all my friends how hung my boyfriend is and how I'd let him do anything to me just for a taste of his cock. Because I'm his, yours..."

Ben isn't a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination. He knows this is highly irregular and would be frowned upon (to say the least) if it's discovered that they're doing this (are they really doing this?) while Peter's in the midst of his heat, while he's practically mindless with need and he doesn't know what he's asking.

Selfishly - greedily - Ben doesn't want to tell Peter no. He can't really even bring himself to suggest that they sit down have a serious conversation when their minds are clearer and they understand the magnitude of their actions. Peter exposes his neck and Ben knows exactly what he's asking for. He feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin, the force he expends to keep as still and steady as possible massive. He's dragged his teeth gently over that exact spot more than a time or two before, but never gave into the urge to bite and mark Peter as his.

And now Peter's asking him for it, and Ben can feel his self-control slipping.

The mental pictures that Peter's words inspire are dizzying just because Ben wants it all so thoroughly it's like he can feel it in his bones. But he knows that he can't just give in without at least making an attempt to find out if this is truly what Peter wants, that this isn't just the instincts talking.

"Don't call me sir right now, call me Ben. Understand that? I - I need to know that you are aware of what you're asking me", he begins, his voice rough. "I can't take this back, Peter. If you decide that I'm not what you want, we'll still be bonded, there is no way to ... start over with someone else. If we do this, it will be forever. Tell me that you know that. Tell me that you know what you're asking me to do. Tell me that this is what you truly want and it's not just the hormones talking. Please. Please, I need to hear it."

Peter needs a moment to process Ben's words, needs a moment to breathe. He knows Ben is within his rights to walk out of this room and leave him here because he has offered something that shouldn't be on the table. Not like this when he's desperate for anything that Ben will give him. Not when he feels like he is swimming upstream and seeing Ben for the first time.

He swallows hard. His eyes a little more lucid than they were, and he's trying so hard to show Ben that he is in his right mind. That he has thought about this when he wasn't naked and overwhelmed with hormones. That he wants this to be forever.

"Ben, please. I know what it means. I've been through the paperwork, and I know there's no one else." He bites his lip. "I want you, Ben, and I understand...if you don't...but I have to say it. Have to tell you that I've always been yours for the taking."

Ben has no intention of walking away - despite a part of him (not insignificant) that screams that he should. Not because he doesn't want Peter, rather because he does. Desperately, he does. These few days a month that they have will never, ever be enough.

He doesn't bother trying to mask the worry he feels as he studies Peter intently, trying to parse whether or not he's cognizant enough to understand what they're on the verge of.

Because the very thought of giving in and biting Peter, bonding them for life only for him to change his mind when his heat has passed and he's in his right mind already chills the blood in his veins to ice-cold.

He just stares as Peter speaks, stunned into speechlessness to learn that his feelings aren't as unrequited as he's assumed them to be, that Peter feels exactly the same.

"If I don't want you?", he asks, incredulous, breaching the distance between them to press his lips to Peter's in a searing kiss. "Who wouldn't want you? I've wanted you for so long, wanted you to want me, too. Too afraid to bring it up because I didn't want you to feel like I was trying to - to ... take advantage. I'd never do that to you. You know that, right?"

"You're--" But Peter doesn't finish that thought because Ben is kissing him in a way that sets his world on fire. His entire body seems to light up with electricity, with a want humming just beneath his surface. He tries to keep his voice even, but he can't. He's practically trembling with need, hears it in his voice as he speaks.

"Ben, I know you'd never... I wouldn't ask you if I thought you were. But I want you to...Please...Ben. Here, right here..." He arches his neck just so, hoping that he looks more enticing than ridiculous. He's never done this before (obviously), and he's always imagined it as much more...romantic? But he doesn't mind. This fits them somehow, a little bit against the grain, a little bit reckless. "I want to be yours, Ben. No one else's. Hasn't been anyone else for a long time."

Ben pours every bit of himself into the kiss, wanting Peter to feel everything that he felt, to speak without speaking all the things he hasn't yet find a way to say, to soothe any worries or fears they both may still be feeling.

He's not so far gone that he doesn't hear the tremble in Peter's voice and recognize that he's nearing a point where if he isn't granted some relief, he'll be in pain, and Ben can't stand the thought of that.

Ben has also never done this before - obviously - but he knows exactly what Peter is asking of him, and he knows exactly what he's meant to do. (And yes, Peter does look enticing, not the least bit ridiculous.)

He reaches out to brush a thumb delicately against the exact spot he knows Peter wants to feel his teeth, just breathing, just trying to find his composure as he shifts positions and replaces his hand with his lips, pressing kisses along the column of his throat.

"There hasn't been anyone else for me. Just you." This, a murmur in the moment before he sinks his teeth into Peter's neck, making the bond official.

"Yes, please." His voice is incoherent as Ben's thumb brushes over the spot. He's slipping again, slipping into that space where he doesn't just want to be Ben's but where he is Ben's. Where Ben protects him, and takes care of him, and gives him exactly what he needs.

He cries out when Ben's teeth sink into his neck, and he doesn't know how he could ever think anything so feral could be romantic. The fire inside him seems to flare, seems to ache inside him, and it's all he can do to hold onto Ben, onto anything he can to stay afloat. He wonders if this is part of being bonded, or if this is just part of his heat, or maybe the two combined against him.

He lets out another low cry. He wants to be good for Ben, for his mate (and God, he's never been more turned on, even at the peak of his heat), but he needs something. He needs release, relief from the fire in his veins. "I need...Ben, sir...I'm sorry, sir, but may I...want to be good, sir...but please, sir, it hurts, and if you just..." He arches his back a little until he's almost, almost pressed up into Ben. He moans softly at the contact of skin-on-skin. "Please I want you inside of me, want you to finish inside of me."

Ben feels dizzy - and he's not even the bitten! Making Peter his mate is the most exciting (and the most terrifying) thing he's ever done. But he can't get lost in his own thoughts when Peter is making such beautiful noises, shivering and shaking, scrambling to hold onto him as though he's the only thing giving Peter any steadiness, a slave to the desires of his body.

He has made Peter wait long enough. His beautiful mate is in distress, and he can't stand knowing that it's because of him. Peter is babbling again, but Ben loves every word, relishes knowing that his good boy needs him so much.

He gives Peter no warning stands again, pulling Peter with him to the edge of the bed, searching through the messy blankets until he finds the discarded lube. Ben doesn't want to make Peter wait any longer, so he hurries to ensure that he's properly covered, urging Peter to lift his legs, wrap them around his waist, careful as he gripped his cock and held steady as he slowly pressed inside.

Once buried deep, he slowly begins moving, just letting Peter acclimate to the size of him, his voice strained when he grits out - "Is that what my good boy wants?"

He knows it's not quite what Peter needs, but soon he will give him just that and so much more. All of him, if that's what Peter asks him for.

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