Not Destiny

by N. J. Lysk

  It was only their fifth date, but of course Thomas had proven again and again that he understood him beyond any logic. “Not your area of expertise?” he suggested, curious but not seemingly surprised. Uri felt certain he’d have reacted the same way if Uri had asked for the opposite.

  “Yes,” he blurted out, because it was true. It wasn’t all the truth, but it was... It had to be enough, if he was going to do this, or try to do it anyway. He couldn’t bear to speak of it too. Not yet. And maybe he’d never got fucked himself, but he’d been on the other side enough to know a virgin, and someone who was out of practice weren’t that far apart in terms of the preparation they’d need.

  Thomas knelt on the bed, dropping the supplies to the side. “Not a problem,” he assured him. “I kinda feel like I owe you a blowjob. It’ll help you relax.”

  Uri frowned. “You gave me one already, I almost—” He swallowed, flushing at the memory of Thomas’s mouth on him, but also... also the way Thomas had kept him in place so easily, which... which had felt good. Safe, but also... just good. He couldn’t find the words to explain it, so he focused on the part he understood. “And in any case, there is no owing.”

  “I know,” Thomas told him with a light smile. “Let’s call it practice then. Practice makes perfect; it was my coach’s favourite saying.”

  Uri snorted. “Well, I suppose I have to offer to aid your efforts at improving yourself.”

  Thomas licked his lips. “Keep talking like that, counsellor; it definitely gets me in the mood.”

  Uri laughed, because of course Thomas couldn’t resist reminding him of his awkward phrasing earlier, and of course Uri found it stupidly charming. He scooted back until he was leaning on the pillows and spread his bent knees, leaving himself fully exposed. Thomas’s gaze deviated downwards at once. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted, and if Uri hadn’t wanted his mouth on his cock so badly, he’d have given in and dragged him up into another kiss.

  “You in the mood yet?” he asked. Being watched like that didn’t hinder his erection, but it made his heart feel like it’d pound its way right out of his chest.

  The green of Thomas’s eyes was almost entirely swallowed up by the black when he glanced up. He licked his lips. “Yes.”

  He crawled forward almost too abruptly, his hands on Uri’s thighs making him tense a little. He rubbed his thumbs through the hair there, hands travelling up to the sensitive skin where Uri’s legs met his torso. He exhaled raggedly as Uri let out an involuntary sigh, then bent over and sniffed, letting his breath warm Uri’s erection. “Just don’t expect too much,” he said right before he took hold of Uri’s dick and sucked the head into his mouth.

  Uri convulsed under his grip, too startled to hold back his moan or control his movements. It was always like this for him when someone took him into their mouth, and the only reason he’d agreed to let Thomas try it in the first place had been this incredible strength. Thomas took the encouragement in the spirit in which it was intended and stroked the flat of his tongue against the exposed head of Uri’s cock. Uri shivered, biting back a sound.

  “I—” He pulled on Thomas’s hair, which he didn’t remember taking hold of. His lover pulled off, lips wet and eyes dark. “Sensitive,” Uri managed to explain.

  He saw Thomas’s eyes flicker down to his cock where the foreskin had been removed. He got a nod, but Thomas still looked uncertain. “Should I...?”

  “No, just... I’ll come,” he explained. “If...” He swallowed. It was one thing to agree, but to actually ask for it... “I’m not going to last if you do that, so...”

  Thomas watched him for a moment. This time his nod was of understanding. He picked up the bottle of lube. He leaned back in and licked a long line up Uri’s cock, pleasantly stimulating but not enough to make him finish. He felt like a man on the edge of a cliff, hanging on for dear life. There was another lick accompanied by the sound of the lube bottle being opened, and then, of all things, a kiss to the head as liquid was squirted out right onto his overheated skin. The feel of the cold lubricant on his sack almost made him kick out in surprise, pleasure and shock intermingling and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep from being overwhelmed. Thomas rewarded his restraint with a soft suck on the side of his erection. The next thing he knew, his left leg was being pushed further aside so that his lover could reach lower, his slick fingers reaching for the puckered skin behind.

  “Thomas...” Uri said, not knowing what he meant by it. Just—

  All movement ceased, fingertips poised at his entrance. “Say stop if it’s too much.”

  It wasn’t too much, not yet. It wasn’t enough. And he could stop it any time he wanted. He wouldn’t even need to speak; if he betrayed the slightest reluctance, Thomas would know. “Feels odd,” he explained instead. “Just... go slow.”

  Thomas pressed a kiss to his inner thigh. “Very,” he promised.

  Uri closed his eyes and allowed himself to be explored: the carefully spaced licks of his erection interspersed with his balls being cupped and then with fingers circling his hole. The sensation there was insane, distinctly strange and yet disturbingly... pleasant.

  He was panting a little, unsure if it was mainly nerves or arousal behind his body’s accelerated rhythms. His cock was hard, of course, but who could have resisted the teasing sucks and careful caresses, or the smiling mouth of the man providing them with such care?

  The first fingertip pushing past the ring of muscle had him clenching hard on pure instinct. Thomas didn’t pull back, letting him get used to the feeling. And he did, though it was still odd, like all new things were, but it wasn’t painful and he— The slide of Thomas’s finger a little further in sent a shock of sensation to his brain that took him the throb of his cock to understand as pleasure. The beta met his eyes, waiting to see his response. Suddenly Uri was sure that he knew this was no lack of practice, that Uri had never...

  But Thomas’s expression didn’t change. “A little more?” he offered.

  Uri gave a shaky nod. It didn’t hurt, and he... he wanted to know. There was no reason he shouldn’t, nothing but stupid stories that said letting his body be touched this way meant surrender to someone else’s will.

  That surrender meant weakness.

  But he’d never had to work this hard to fuck someone, to be in such absolute control of every muscle, so very conscious of every inch of skin. For that to be considered weakness was laughable at best, at worst...

  Thomas smiled and bent down to suck at the head of his cock, and the unexpected pleasure had Uri thrusting into it. But Thomas had expected it because his other hand was firmly clamped on Uri’s thigh, and he only managed to lift himself a few inches before he was forced back down. His throbbing cock was distraction enough that it took him a moment to realise Thomas’s finger was now knuckles deep into his arse. He glanced down, shocked at himself, but of course he could see little other than Thomas’s hand against his buttocks.

  The beta wiggled his finger, a sensation so foreign Uri burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s—” he stopped himself before he gave away his inexperience beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  “Need more lube,” Thomas determined.

  When the finger was withdrawn, the emptiness it left behind was oddly unsettling. But Thomas was just adding more lube before trying to go deeper. This time, Uri had enough presence of mind to arch into the touch. He’d known it’d make a difference, of course, but it was nothing to understanding it—like a shock to his groin and his brain both. It brought back a memory he’d somehow long forgotten; a time when he’d done this to himself after being taught about it in health class. A time when... Thomas did something, and he gasped, for air, for mercy, for an end and for it to never end.

  “Yeah,” Thomas murmured right onto his erection. He didn’t touch it, probably aware of how close Uri was to losing it already. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? I just... I’ll give you another.”

  He didn’t delay in delivering; the
fullness was still odd, but the promise of that jolt when he reached deep enough kept Uri still, and after that things were a bit of a blur. He knew he wanted more of it, even when the fourth finger turned the stretch from uncomfortable to painful, and Thomas leaned in to suck him again, slow and clearly enjoying it. Uri thrust into it, too lost in sensation. Thomas’s fingers inside him tensed as he used his left hand to keep Uri from choking him.

  “Sorry!” Uri panted, opening his eyes to check on him.

  Thomas was smiling. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” he said in a raspy voice that made Uri’s balls pulse. He looked away, breathing hard and trying to take stock of his body—he’d never been good at yoga, no matter how much his mothers made him practice, and this was far from an ideal situation. It was only when Thomas pulled his fingers out that he looked up, alarmed. “You want me to suck you off?” he asked, glancing down at Uri’s groin with clear appreciation.

  Like he really would happily exchange fucking him for... And Uri loved sucking cock, the utter surrender of a man’s body to his mouth and hands, the absolute control of providing pleasure without your own to distract you... It was magnificent, but it couldn’t compare to fucking.

  Not for him.

  Maybe it did for Thomas, only... he wanted to know. Even if only once, even if it wasn’t quite right for him, he wanted to know what it felt like from the other side. He knew what it was like to take someone’s body apart, to take charge of their pleasure and pour yourself fully into their bodies—following each twitch and sigh until you found the exact combination of movements which would unlock their brains and allow their bodies to peak. To do it even when they were gripping your cock so tightly you could hardly breathe, let alone think, and still...

  He shook his head. “Condom.”

  Thomas didn’t question him again, and Uri watched him as he gripped the base of his erection before putting on the rubber. He was a big man, and proportionately so, but it wasn’t the idea of his size that almost made Uri back down, it was the way he raised his eyes until their gazes locked. It set his heart to hammering crazily in his chest—panic or ecstasy, he couldn’t tell. He lay back down, forcing himself not to look away. Still, it was a relief when Thomas had to look down so he could position himself. Uri felt himself relax into his hold as his hips were rearranged for a better angle.

  It was his turn to let go.

  Chapter Fifteen: Thomas

  Uri had woken him up briefly with a soft caress to his neck, but he'd gone right back to sleep, and by the time his alarm had gone off, the other side of the bed was cold.

  It was nine and morning practice was at ten, but it was optional, and Thomas hadn't lied, he did miss them when something worthy of the sacrifice came up. Like enjoying a good breakfast while his body still sang with the echoes of the pleasurable activities from the previous night.

  He figured out the coffee machine easily enough—it was similar to the one his dad had got for his father's last birthday—and found some cereal he could live with. Just enough to keep him on his feet until he could have a real meal, but that was all he needed. He ate fairly quickly, all too conscious of the subpar nature of his efforts when sitting at the table where Uriel had lain a veritable feast for him the night before. He wondered if Uri had decided on the gefilte fish knowing it was better once it cooled down. Thomas was no fan of cooked fish as a rule, but the sauce, the almost unpronounceable chrain, had changed the game completely.

  His eyes caught on the wallet on the bedside table the moment he walked back into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes. He didn't mean to pry, but he was a touchy person—the kind of child who’d needed his hand held at all times in expensive shops—and Uri’s minimalistic flat didn’t have much to touch. Besides, wouldn't Uri need it? It appeared to be made of leather, which seemed odd for someone of Uri’s background. The material was soft on his hands and seemed old enough to be from before the Unnecessary Cruelty Statute had been passed and meat had started being grown in pieces instead of farmed from live animals. Most people either couldn’t afford the animal-made antiques or preferred to avoid wearing anything made of a living being’s skin. Thomas wondered what the story was behind this incongruent piece in the perfect progressive puzzle that was Uriel Alkaim.

  He rubbed his thumb against it, half-fascinated, half-repulsed. It brought to mind the feeling of his father’s now priceless leather belt. Unsure, he flipped it open.

  He forgot about materials at once because at the very front was Uri’s ID card and the photo on it was terrible. He pulled it out, biting his tongue to keep from laughing. He was seriously tempted to fetch his phone—a newer model Eira and Grace had insisted on—to take a picture for teasing purposes. And then his eyes focused on the writing.

  Thomas stared at the piece of plastic in his hands, then shook his head hard enough he dropped it and had to bend over to pick it up again. And it still said the same thing, orientation: alpha. He didn’t understand, why—? It wasn’t— Suddenly, he remembered the woman shouting at them when they’d kissed outside the adoption centre, the way Uri had been so freaked out. The way he’d let Thomas assume the woman was racist. Even when Thomas had reassured him that he didn’t believe it was anyone’s job to police his love life.

  Except his own. So if Uri hadn’t told him... He turned to look at the empty bed. The bed where Uri... Fuck. The guy had let Thomas fuck him. And if he’d suspected it was more likely to have been ‘never’ rather than ‘a long time’, this confirmed it. Alphas weren’t meant to get fucked, no one who knew would even dare ask... He tried to think back to the night before; had he asked? No, Uri had thought he was asking, and Thomas had offered because he didn’t believe in lying to people about his own desires. And Uri had asked. No. You can fuck me, he’d said, which Thomas had taken as a casual way of referring to the matter of who would wear a condom that night, but now he wondered why he had said it like that. He’d been so nervous, or so Thomas had assumed; had it been more than that? Had it been part of this... this lie?

  Surely no one could fake pleasure that well, especially not a man, but had that been a surprise to his lover? Had the act been a simple decision to submit so Thomas would...? But that was crazy, wasn’t it? There was no reason for Uri to hide his orientation at all, Thomas had dated alphas in the past. Alphas and betas dated each other all the time. It was harder for omegas, but some found ways to make it work with betas too.

  With the ID in his hands, his uncertainty came right back to him. He'd assumed Uri hadn't done it in a while, that he didn't do it often. And Uri had let him believe that, when the reality was that he didn't do it ever. What the fuck did that even mean? That an alpha had lied to him about his orientation and then gone against that orientation and let Thomas fuck him? No, not let him, Thomas had barely asked before Uri had offered.

  None of this made any sense, but provided with the cipher, his mind was going back looking for the code. The waiter at the restaurant who Uri could keep track of like he had a bell around his neck... Probably an omega if his submissive attitude was anything to go by.

  Thomas had just assumed the guy was young, maybe nervous about talking to a hot guy. He put the ID back in its pocket and the wallet back on the bedside table.

  He couldn’t do this. Not here.

  He found his clothes and got dressed as quickly as he could manage, keeping his eyes on the far wall. Away from the bed.

  He was still sweaty, and he should have showered, but he didn’t want to linger. Fuck it, he thought, picking up his bag, he’d take a hoverboard so he wouldn’t stink up any buses.

  He didn’t want to think about it, but it was inevitable for someone who’d grown up hearing the story of his parents’ great romance with a beta as the villain. Not that his father didn’t admit the error of his own ways, but he made a point of how love had reformed him, brought him back to the right path.

  If his parents found out about this... To think Colleen had made fun of him for finding such a promising partn
er to bring home...

  He’d learned the lesson early: alphas fucked betas, sometimes for long enough to marry them... but not for real, not with any prospects of it lasting. And betas who went for that kind of thing were disrespecting themselves and the omegas those alphas belonged to.

  And the worst thing would be that his parents would be right because if Uriel had meant to try to ignore protocol and sense and... If he’d meant this to be something, then he’d have told Thomas.

  And Thomas didn’t even need to think about it, he’d have said yes.

  He’d have known it was pointless, that an alpha’s mating instincts couldn’t be resisted forever, but he’d have taken it—a little rebellion in the name of love. His father never talked about his beta wife, but he’d been with her for years before meeting his mate. Thomas thought he’d loved her even though she couldn’t be what he needed.

  He’d have taken being loved, even if it couldn’t last. But love, even the temporary kind, couldn’t be built on lies. It was an oxymoron: to love someone, you had to know them.

  It was childish, a romantic fantasy really, to imagine that a few dates and a few times in bed together meant...

  Before he left, he couldn’t keep from turning to look at the bed once more. Just once more. Even though it was empty of anything that really mattered... He swallowed and turned his back on it. It hurt a lot more than it had the right to after only knowing the man for little more than a month, a lot more than something that wasn’t real should have.

  He wondered what it was like for an alpha to want an omega, was it that much different than the ache in his chest right now? Would what he was feeling seem like nothing compared to the lust of an ideal mate? It seemed impossible, but despite how few times they’d met, he could hardly get air into his lungs from how tight his throat had gone.

  Maybe that wasn’t love, though. Maybe it was simply the betrayal. He’d thought he and Uriel had connected in a way that was special for them both, and now it’d become startlingly clear that he’d been projecting his own feelings onto the other man.