Not Destiny

by N. J. Lysk

  "I had no idea," Thomas told him gently. His posture had relaxed too, fingers curled on top of the table. He grabbed the glass and took a long pull. "I've heard of something like this before. I— Thank you for telling me."

  Uri swallowed, not quite sure he’d understood. He’d expected... rejection. Anger. Disbelief. "You’re not... angry?"

  Thomas shot him an incredulous look, sitting straighter again. "I am angry. You lied to me, for a long time and...” He looked down and drank some more, breathing a little heavily. “And you can’t take advantage of being an alpha. You just— You just said you didn’t want to control anyone, but... If you know something I don’t—”

  “I know!” Uri assured him, clutching at the table to keep from doing something more dramatic. “I know, I— I didn’t want it to matter, can you... It was stupid, I can’t change what I am. I... I fucked up, and I apologize. And I won’t do it again.”

  Thomas watched him quietly for a long moment. “Okay,” he said finally. “I believe you.”

  Uri’s heart stuttered, torn between relief and disbelief.

  Thomas was still looking at him too closely, and it was an effort to stay still under his gaze, but he did. He could look all he wanted, he could ask anything and Uri would tell him. “You lied,” Thomas said finally, “But you lied because you don't want to stop, didn’t you?"

  "No!" Uri said at once. "I mean, no, I don't want to stop. Not if—"

  Thomas stopped him in his tracks with his smile. "No fucking way," he said, and Uri wasn’t sure if it was because he’d spent so long being serious, but his happiness seemed to radiate from him now.

  He shot to his feet, and Thomas was already around the table, yanking him in by the waist and pressing a kiss to his ear that was followed by a trail around his face until their lips finally met again. He moaned, low and needy, and pushed his tongue into Thomas's mouth, so desperate he could hardly manage the control not to bite too hard.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, panting for air and still not able to stop kissing, not completely. “You are... I didn’t...”

  Thomas clutched him by the shoulders hard enough to bruise and pushed him back against the nearest wall. His eyes were dark and intent. “Be quiet now, I already know, and you already apologized, and now we move on.”

  “But...” His hesitation must have been contagious because Thomas suddenly let go and stepped back, frowning.

  “Is there more?” he asked very slowly.

  Uri blinked at him. “More?” He straightened a little but didn’t move from where Thomas had cornered him. He looked down, actually thinking about it. He hadn’t really thought he’d get the chance to say anything else after he confessed. There was one more thing, though. “I guess... I guess you know why that woman shouted at us now,” he started. “And...”

  “Yes,” Thomas cut in, clearly impatient. “The waiter, too. I realised, I’m not an idiot.”

  He seemed angrier now than he’d been earlier, but Uri couldn’t imagine why. It didn’t matter, the only way out was through. “I had never been fucked before,” he gritted out, heart battering in his throat.

  “I know that too,” Thomas said, a little kinder but somewhat still expectant.

  Uri looked up, face hot. “Then what?”

  “Is... is there someone else?”

  “Someone...?” His fists clenched hard enough for his fingernails to bite into the skin of his palms. “Someone else?” he demanded, voice growing thin. He only managed to hold back the power of his will because he’d had a lot of practice.

  Thomas still saw his anger, though, because he swallowed, shrugging a little. “Yeah, I mean—” He turned to the side, away, and Uri’s self-control snapped like a twig.

  “Because I’m an alpha so I must to want to fuck everything that moves?” he asked, voice dripping with disdain.

  “What? No!” Thomas said at once, turning back to shoot him an indignant look. “That’s—”

  “Then why the hell would there be someone else?” Uri demanded between gritted teeth.

  “I—” Thomas raised both hands, palms out, then visibly relaxed his shoulders, breathing out slowly. “I’m saying this wrong,” he admitted, his voice softer and his eyes worried. “I have a question and... and it is because you’re an alpha, but it’s not because of a made-up reason. It’s something Keenan told me about... about what it’s like to be with an omega.”

  He wanted to argue, to ask Thomas if he would like it if people generalized about him in that manner. But it would have been absurd; he’d never done anything with an omega and he still knew it would be different. He could feel the pull; he knew it was pulling him towards something powerful. He remembered Esti’s words, the need to accept what you were and find a way to love that part of yourself. He couldn’t deny he was an alpha, even if he didn’t wish to do as alphas were meant to.

  “What did he say?” he asked, voice coming out raspy and used like he’d been shouting despite his efforts to keep things civil.

  Thomas let his hands drop, then shoved them into his jeans pockets. His eyelashes were almost invisible as he glanced at the ground between them—no man’s land. “He said that he wished he didn’t know what it was like because now that he does, he wouldn’t be able to... A beta wouldn’t be enough anymore.”

  It was a sentiment he’d heard often, and there was so much people said that was just them repeating whatever they’d been told... But this was Thomas’s friend, speaking about their experience and feelings.

  There was no way for Thomas to know neither applied to Uri.

  “I don’t know if that’s true,” he told Thomas. “But I don’t want to find out.”

  Green eyes flew to his face. “You mean...?”

  He shook his head. “Never, not even a kiss.”

  “Oh,” Thomas’s surprise dissolved into a relieved smile. “That’s...” He hesitated. “I mean, you said you don’t want to find out, right? Not because of me? Because of what you said earlier about it not feeling right?”

  “Yeah,” Uri agreed. “Not because of you.”

  “Okay, then, that’s good. I’m glad you haven’t.” His brilliant grin was back, but he was still just standing there, not approaching.

  So Uriel did it instead. It was just a single step forward and they were close enough he could feel the heat of Thomas’s body. He had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes, but he could already tell they’d stepped right back into the familiar dance. And then Thomas’s right hand came down on his shoulder, thumb resting on his collarbone, his eyes following the movement. Uri inhaled, intensely aware of the way he was exposing his throat. Thomas kept his gaze on Uri’s as he slowly slid his hand closer to his neck, not tentative exactly, but... teasing. Uri shuddered, reaching out with his own right hand to take hold of Thomas’s shirt as the hand closed around his throat.

  “Thomas,” he said, feeling like his voice was breaking as Thomas’s thumb slowly ran down his throat and rested in the hollow where his collarbones met and his pulse was beating like a drum. His fingers on the side of Uri’s neck felt like a brand.

  “Is this what you want?” the beta breathed the words right into his ear, and Uri shivered hard, eyelids fluttering closed. He should have pulled away, and part of him did want him to, but another part—desperately curious and almost unbearably hard in his trousers...

  He swallowed, nodding a little, and was rewarded when Thomas’s hand slid upwards until he could direct Uri to tilt his head further back. Uri complied, feeling his cock throb as his Adam’s apple caressed Thomas’s palm. And then, with only a soft puff of breath as warning, he was being kissed.

  Thomas shoved his tongue into his mouth, stepping into him and pressing him against the wall with his body—taller and stronger and... Uri opened up to it, panting more than returning the kiss. He was still holding onto Thomas’s shirt, but he let the other man yank his wrist off and hold it against the wall at his side. His left hand followed, and Thomas ground forward, his ere
ction poking Uri in the belly even as his own got pushed against Thomas’s bent knee between his legs.

  Uri moaned, trying to push back and finding he couldn’t move. Thomas licked his teeth as he pulled his mouth away, turning his face so Uri’s lips just brushed his stubble when he tried to follow. He blinked his eyes open. The room seemed dimmer somehow, but Thomas’s face was close enough to be clear. His lover was watching him back, expression serious. Suddenly, he smiled. “Tell me.”

  Uri frowned. Tell him what?

  Thomas sighed, a little exasperated, but he was still smiling too. “Tell me this is good.”

  Once again, the understatement was so extreme it was hard to find the words. He swallowed, vaguely missing Thomas’s hand on his neck. He was hard as nails, and yet... relaxed, loose, in a way. He’d felt like this before, when... when Thomas had fucked him. But also when he’d been cradled in his arms, letting him rub one off against his arse, when... A hard pain on his ear alerted him to the fact that he’d drifted off a little. “I...”

  “Is this good?” Thomas demanded. He was no longer smiling, and his hands were flexing on Uri’s wrists.

  “Yes,” he blurted out, more out of desperation than certainty. It was good, but it was also...

  “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” Thomas said gently, then stepped back. Uri’s heart skipped, but he wasn’t stopping, just dragging him forward by the wrists, walking backwards towards... the bedroom, his eyes registered before his attention was recalled by his lover. “I thought you were going under when I fucked you, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Under?” he repeated as Thomas made him sit on his own bed like he was a doll whose movements needed direction.

  Thomas let go of him and stepped away, eyes dark and steady on his face. “Subspace.”

  The word was like a glass of freezing water to the face, making him tense. “But...”

  “It’s not only an omega thing, a lot of people can go under, if... if they like to let someone else take charge for a bit.”

  He was feeling a little less hazy but still far from coherent. He sought Thomas’s face. “You...?”

  “Not really.” Thomas shrugged. “I just really like getting fucked. And pushed around a little,” he added with a smile. “And making you feel good. I really like that, too.”

  Uri stared at him still standing a little too far away. Far enough away Uri didn’t need to strain his neck to look at him, he suddenly understood. The words made perfect sense, maybe more sense than words ever had before because he could feel how sincere they were, read Thomas’s body and voice as well as the plain meaning in them. He didn’t have any words of his own to offer back, but he raised his right hand and extended it towards his lover.

  Thomas’s grin was electric, and he was kneeling between Uri’s knees before he knew it. “I’m going to blow your brains out,” he promised.

  A moment later he felt hands on his zip, then Thomas’s hands went under his thighs and lifted them enough that he could unhook first one dress shoe, then the other. Uri’s eyes were still stuck to his bulging arms when Thomas pushed him back with enough force to send him sprawling onto the mattress.

  He looked down at Uri from where he was still standing like a proud artist assessing his creation. “Stay there,” he ordered with easy self-assurance.

  Uri didn’t think he could have moved if the bed had been set on fire. Not that he’d have been likely to notice because a moment later Thomas started tugging down his trousers, then, before they were completely off, he went for Uri’s underwear. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking already, and Uri melted a little further into the mattress at the wave of desperation and pleasure that shot up his spine.

  He panted harshly, fingers digging into the sheets, as Thomas finished baring him from the waist down. He felt the mattress shift as his lover climbed on, but he didn’t have time to react before Thomas’s hand took hold of his cock and squeezed hard enough it straddled the line between pleasure and pain.

  “Shhh,” Thomas soothed him, and Uri’s brain finally allowed the sounds he was hearing to reach his conscious mind. Harsh, high sounds, cut off by his irregular breathing. “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s it, calm down. I’m taking care of you, remember?”

  Uri opened his eyes to find Thomas leaning over him and was rewarded with a kiss, a soft peck that soon involved Thomas’s tongue swiping into his mouth, deep and thorough like Thomas suspected he was hiding something from him still. There was nothing. Uri let him do it anyway, let himself stay still as Thomas’s hands rubbed at his pecs over his shirt. Thomas’s thigh—bare, somehow—was pressed enticingly against his cock, teasing him with the shifting movements of his body when Uri was so hard he couldn’t... His hips jerked up, seeking more, and Thomas stopped at once, sitting back and shaking his head. “No.”

  Uri swallowed, dazed and desperate and so turned on he was shaking a little.

  Thomas must have seen something he liked because his lips curved into a smile, a little sharper and less sweet... almost predatory. It made Uri’s heart thump in his chest, and that was before Thomas’s dominant hand closed around the girth of his hard cock. “This is for me, isn’t it?” he asked, more reminder than question. “And I want it so deep up my arse I can feel it for a week.”

  Uri’s erection throbbed, valiantly trying to grow harder still, and he thought his eyes might have rolled into the back of his head because his vision blurred for a few seconds.

  “No objections?” Thomas checked.

  Like Uri could ever object to this, even if he’d been assuming he was about to get fucked again.

  But Thomas wasn’t moving, and after a beat, he said, “Tell me I can have your cock, sweetheart.”

  Uri inhaled sharply, either the endearment or the proposal hitting him low and heavy. Thomas put a hand to the side of his face and petted him gently, soothing him a little as he panted for enough air to speak. “You... You can,” he managed.

  Thomas smiled. “Thank you,” he said, licking his lips with emphasis that could have been comical if Uri hadn’t been so hot for him his tongue seemed to move in slow motion. When said tongue licked at the seam of his own mouth, he whimpered softly and sucked at it.

  But the pleasure didn’t last long, Thomas was already raising himself away from him, dismounting and rolling off the bed. It was only the sound of the drawer mechanism—long associated to the activities he’d been promised—that kept him on the bed.

  Thomas was back as fast as if the floor was ice and he could slide across it. “Impatient?” His raised eyebrow made Uri squirm. “Close your eyes.”

  He obeyed, and it was like his body came into focus; the sounds—his own pulse, their breathing; the scents—sweat and musk; and especially the warmth and weight of Thomas’s body against him. It only got more intense as Thomas applied himself to it, fingertips travelling from Uri’s groin to his thigh—never more than a warm presence near his cock—then back up again against the hair there. Then his big hands clutched at Uri’s thighs from underneath, pushing until he bent his knees and parted his legs—all of it tugging at his cock but not offering any direct stimulation, leaving him exposed, cock, balls, hole.

  He thought maybe Thomas had changed his mind. He could, as far as Uri was concerned. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single thing that would make him move from his sprawled position under this man’s hands. The wet sensation on the inside of his knee made him startle a little, a noise leaving his mouth he couldn’t quite define or keep himself from repeating as Thomas’s mouth travelled farther down, closer and closer to his cock.

  He was so sure he wouldn’t get the relief that he almost buckled when he felt the wet suction on the delicate head. “Shhh,” Thomas whispered, the word against his wet skin almost as overwhelming as actual contact.

  It took his overtaxed brain a moment to register Thomas’s vice-grip on his thighs, keeping them apart and forcing his arse flat on the bed. “I want you good and wet when I take you,” Thomas said, a promis
e that mixed with the strength of his hold into an almost unbearable tightness in Uri’s groin.

  He was keeping his eyes clenched shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to peek, but he couldn’t— “I...”

  Thomas’s mouth leaving his cock was a tragedy in three acts: the wet popping sound, the spit drying in the cold air, and his wet breath asking, “Yeah?”

  Uri was either going to have a heart attack or... “I— I’ll come,” he warned.

  Thomas tutted. “No, you won’t; you told me I can have your cock, remember?”

  He had, and he’d meant it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back from the edge, even if pleasure waxed and waned along with Thomas’s at times delicate, at time intense ministrations.

  The man sighed. “Okay, no more teasing. Just...” And with that, he leaned in and sucked Uri’s cock as deep as he could manage, bobbing his head even as he clutched at the base hard enough to keep him from blowing it.

  Uri shouted, jerking in place and opening his eyes. But Thomas was already sitting up and squirting a mess of lubricant into his hand. He didn’t object when he caught Uri dazedly watching him bend over to the side to reach back behind himself, hard cock protruding almost obscenely forward as he sighed at the penetration.

  It was a spectacle he could have finished himself off to in a couple strokes, but at the same time, it was like he was half asleep and this was a dream. It could have well been, the kind he woke up from with a wet spot and a wistful smile.

  Thomas groaned, then shook himself and rummaged on the bed for what turned out to be a condom. He tore open the package and, despite knowing the plan, Uri jumped when he took hold of his erection again.

  The other man paused, biting his lip. “Good?” he checked.

  It was almost impossible to answer. He felt like his body was both so relaxed he was about to drift off and so on edge he could have gone off in an entirely different manner with just a little stimulation.

  But even with words beyond him, communication wasn’t. Uri concentrated and raised his hips into the grip, earning himself a smile. Thomas leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tip of his erection before sliding the condom on him, an economical move that required little contact.