(no subject)
May. 15th, 2013 11:02 pm[ IV is good with his suppressants, usually. Because it had always been important; omegas got suppressants as soon as they hit puberty in the orphanage, to keep the peace, and then it had always been important for his image that people thought him a beta at the least. But then everything had been over and done with, and he'd been out of the public eye and away from the pressures of it and so he'd ended up getting lax in remembering to take them. And it had been fine, at first. But then the heat had hit and it had hit hard, because IV's never actually had a proper heat and so he'd not known what to expect.
So maybe he'd ended up dragging himself shamefaced and dripping wet to Chris's room, riding him first and explaining things later. Not that it had really needed an explanation, IV thinks, because even if neither of the others had ever gotten to find out he was an omega - and even if it's impossible to tell the difference between prepubescent betas and omegas - it's pretty obvious that someone's an omega when they're writhing on top of you in the throes of heat, really. But, well, they'd been dealing with it. IV would crawl back to Chris every few hours when the heat got bad, and Chris would finger or fuck him until he was aching but at least able to function, even if it still felt every time like something was missing.
Except that now... well. Now it's the third day of his heat and Chris has gone out - which should be okay, because he's only been gone an hour and he's due back before the next is up, except that IV is beyond desperate. And, he's... he doesn't remember how, but he's ended up outside Michael's door. Which is locked, so IV has been reduced to pawing at it helplessly, whining high in his throat and rubbing himself against the wood, trying to project the scent of his heat through the door. Because his brain has been reduced to something simple, animal, a mantra of alpha alpha alpha, the desperate need and the sure knowledge that what he's been missing is an alpha, that a beta isn't nearly good enough when they can't claim him and take him and knot him, make him entirely their own and fight off anyone that tries to have him after that.
He lets out a long, desperate moan, grinding himself against Michael's door again and whining out plea-ea-ea-ea-ease, long and drawn out and interrupted by his hitching breaths. ]
So maybe he'd ended up dragging himself shamefaced and dripping wet to Chris's room, riding him first and explaining things later. Not that it had really needed an explanation, IV thinks, because even if neither of the others had ever gotten to find out he was an omega - and even if it's impossible to tell the difference between prepubescent betas and omegas - it's pretty obvious that someone's an omega when they're writhing on top of you in the throes of heat, really. But, well, they'd been dealing with it. IV would crawl back to Chris every few hours when the heat got bad, and Chris would finger or fuck him until he was aching but at least able to function, even if it still felt every time like something was missing.
Except that now... well. Now it's the third day of his heat and Chris has gone out - which should be okay, because he's only been gone an hour and he's due back before the next is up, except that IV is beyond desperate. And, he's... he doesn't remember how, but he's ended up outside Michael's door. Which is locked, so IV has been reduced to pawing at it helplessly, whining high in his throat and rubbing himself against the wood, trying to project the scent of his heat through the door. Because his brain has been reduced to something simple, animal, a mantra of alpha alpha alpha, the desperate need and the sure knowledge that what he's been missing is an alpha, that a beta isn't nearly good enough when they can't claim him and take him and knot him, make him entirely their own and fight off anyone that tries to have him after that.
He lets out a long, desperate moan, grinding himself against Michael's door again and whining out plea-ea-ea-ea-ease, long and drawn out and interrupted by his hitching breaths. ]
[for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
preppedandprimed]
Apr. 5th, 2013 11:27 pm[ He'd not thought anything of it, when he'd eaten the curry that had been left in the fridge. It had been something simple enough for even him to deal with, cooking-wise, given that Tron and Chris were away for the weekend.
Only, now he feels... odd. Too hot, his clothes too tight. Everything's coming through like it's delayed, his vision blurring in and out of focus and his hearing like he's underwater.
(he doesn't understand)
Staggering out of his room, he heads towards Michael's.
(he can't think enough to remember why that's bad)
(he just needs someone) ]
Michael?
Michael!
Only, now he feels... odd. Too hot, his clothes too tight. Everything's coming through like it's delayed, his vision blurring in and out of focus and his hearing like he's underwater.
(he doesn't understand)
Staggering out of his room, he heads towards Michael's.
(he can't think enough to remember why that's bad)
(he just needs someone) ]
Michael?
Michael!
oh god send help // for butfortheirvirtue
Feb. 2nd, 2013 04:15 pm[ IV doesn't get it.
Why Chris has suddenly started showing more of an interest, just as IV's gotten less appealing.
(it's not that he doesn't like the attention)
(because damn, Chris being the one to make the first move is hotter than it has any right to be)
(he just doesn't understand why now of all times) ]
Why Chris has suddenly started showing more of an interest, just as IV's gotten less appealing.
(it's not that he doesn't like the attention)
(because damn, Chris being the one to make the first move is hotter than it has any right to be)
(he just doesn't understand why now of all times) ]
