The Omega Awakened: A M/M Omegaverse Erotic Short Fiction (Omegan Tales Book 1)

by Elijah Stierne

  “Just go. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m telling you, I can’t-”

  “Seriously. I’m asking you,” Jackson begged. “I don’t know what’s going on with me, Micah, but I don’t think you should be here for it. Something’s telling me that it’s gonna wear us both out, and I’m not sure I can handle that right now.”

  The room fell into another lapse of silence. It was like an accident with a longer and longer list of casualties. Jackson felt guilty with each new mistake he could tally. If he’d thought for a second that his physical discomfort held any kind of candle to an emotional berating from his mate, he was totally, completely, irrevocably wrong. His entire soul felt black and blue right now, and all he really wanted to do was bury himself in his blankets and sleep for the next three years.

  Jackson had been raised to think of the alpha as the man. The one on top. The one with the power, and a firm grip on the reins. Instead, it seemed that alpha were nothing but bitches with muscles. They weren’t much more than their hormones, after all, and for the years and years that he’d been raised to think of himself as a rock - as a pillar in society for weak omega to hang off of and be catered to - it was so much harder now to understand that they were all vulnerable and one unlucky mistake from becoming fate’s punching bag.

  Micah seemed to be straddling this situation a lot more confidently than Jackson was.

  At least he was willing to admit that his actions were heat-related.

  “Don’t make me leave, Jackson,” Micah said. “I’m telling you that I won’t be able to handle it. If you’re still upset this evening, I’ll go. But let me stay with you for a bit.”

  When Jackson didn’t answer him, Micah said, a bit more desperately, “I wanted to see you. That’s why I’m here. That hasn’t changed.”

  Jackson had never, never felt so wild. Conflicting emotions, a fever he couldn’t quite seem to sweat out. He wanted silence and the solitude just as much as he wanted companionship. This wasn’t the flu, it was something deeper and more dangerous that. Jackson wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was slowly starting to think that the Intractable Mating wasn’t the end of his genetic malfunction. The prickling sensation beneath his skin was a warning, and he wasn’t sure for what. It was a splinter in his foot that he couldn’t see, but that he could feel with every step on the cold hard ground: little by little, he was being wounded from the inside.

  Jackson sniffled eventually. He rolled over so that he was facing the wall, his sweaty back to Micah’s prying eyes. The omega moved for him and crawled into bed, and though he hesitated beside Jackson for a moment, hand going to the alpha’s hair and running through it a few times, he eventually moved to the free space at the end of the bed so that Jackson could have space to breathe his frustrations without all of Micah’s distressed pheromones getting in the way.

  “Let’s just wait it out then,” Jackson said to the room. “And hope for the best.”

  Micah hummed, placing his hand on Jackson’s ankle and squeezing softly.

  “It’s all we can do.”

  * * *

  Jackson’s dreams were something vicious.

  In them, he awoke in the woods, back-down on warm pile of twigs and leaves. Above him, he could see the twinkling of stars through gaps in branches, and it made the entire, dark-blue sky so much more beautiful to look at. It looked like a painting, one of those large canvases with all manners of blue and purple, and the Milky Way nothing more than a spattering of white dots against the colors. That was the image above him. Peaceful. Serene.

  All traces of winter had been wiped away by the warmth of the summer air which was… strange, because they were still in the middle of winter. It felt good regardless. The trees were full of translucent leaves, the branches heavy, and Jackson only grew more and more surprised.

  He wasn’t sure in which moment he realized he was dreaming. Probably somewhere between the deep breathing of the forest around him and the heavy vibration of the dirt beneath his back forcing him onto his feet. His body was no longer heavy with sickness. He was feeling as light as a feather. It was a better feeling than he’d ever imagined, given how restlessly he’d fallen asleep.

  The woods were familiar. Jackson brushed himself off, hands running over his backside and then gripping his shirt to shake the fallen leaves from the fabric. They tinkled like tiny bells as they landed on the ground and it sounded like magic.

  There were small desire paths between the trunks. Jackson wasn’t sure which way to go, he only knew that he needed to get moving. He looked between three paths; the one that went to the clearing, the one that lead back to campus, and a third, more mysterious path that he didn’t recognize. Every movie he’d ever seen was encouraging him to go down the unknown path. But there was something about the way the sticks glowed on the path that lead to the clearing, that made him want to follow the lights. So, ever so slowly, he began the trek toward the grassy plain beyond the trees.

  He walked as if gravity didn’t exist. Floated, really, just listening to the chirping of the insects around him and the soft sound of twigs breaking beneath his feet.

  Was he dead? Dying? It was the only explanation for why he hadn’t a care in the world. He was just waltzing between tree trunks that now seemed larger than life, waiting for the small opening between them that would guide him into the warm circle of the clearing.

  It didn’t take long. Before he knew it, Jackson was stepping out onto the thick grass. There wasn’t an inch of snow in sight. The ground was dry and smelled like the heat of early summer. Around him there was a buzzing that he couldn’t identify, but before he could question it too deeply, his eyes caught on the shape of a small figure in the distance, lounging out on the checkered blanket of an unpacked picnic basket.

  Jackson knew who it was.

  Without a scent and without the light of day to confirm, he could feel it in his bones. In the very pit of his being. There was just a soft tingling that whispered mate and mine over and over again. Jackson was somewhat convinced that if he’d have stumbled onto this field with a blindfold on, nothing but the ground beneath his feet and an inkling to guide him, he’d still find his way toward the blanket. Because that’s where Micah was.

  And wherever Micah was, he would find his way to.

  The alpha crossed the clearing in long, desperate, steps. His heart was suddenly racing a mile a minute, and he smiled as if his cheeks were going to burst. In front of him, Micah tilted his head back as far as it would go, so that he could watch the alpha approach. He smiled, too, and it made Jackson want to crumple to his knees. He couldn’t move fast enough. Even when he was slowing to a stop so that he could drop down and meet Micah half way, he didn’t feel close enough, soon enough. It wasn’t until Micah was breathing, hey, and Jackson was on his hands and knees, bending down to kiss him soundly that he felt like he could breathe again.

  When he pulled back, Micah was cheesing up at him.

  “Hey, baby,” Jackson said, leaning in again and kissing him quickly. Over and over until Micah tilted his head away and Jackson accidentally kissed his cheek instead.

  “Stop,” Micah said. “Lay down with me properly if you’re gonna do all of that.”

  Jackson giggled. Fuck, he fucking giggled, like a teenage girl, too giddy to even try and stop it, and Micah covered his face with his arm and laughed into it properly as the alpha cozied up to him.

  It was just the two of them on the grass. Them and the sound of the branches rustling in the wind, the sound of the crickets in the bushes, the moon and the stars high overhead. Evening had never looked so pretty as it did with Micah. It almost went over Jackson’s head that things were slightly amiss. He wormed his arm beneath Micah’s head and then pulled the omega to his chest, holding him close as he finally got comfortable and looked up at the stars. They were swirling strangely, just spirals wrapped around each other, large enough for Jackson to see the shape of them.

  Then there were the trees. Out of hi
s periphery, Jackson could see a reddish glow to them, knew that if he really looked over, something strange would be happening. Everything was pulsing like a heartbeat, just a soft du-du. du-du. du-du.

  “What are you doing out here so late?” Micah asked suddenly. “Aren’t you sleepy?”

  “Nah. Feels like I’m already dreaming.”

  “You think so?”

  “Babe, look at the trees,” Jackson said.

  Together, both of them looked at the treeline. Now that a minute had passed, the embers that were pressed between the leaves were glowing much more brightly. They were throbbing in time with whatever beat Jackson could hear.

  “Oh,” Micah said easily. “They’re getting warmer. That’s good.”

  “I’m happy you’re here,” Jackson said. “‘snot really a dream without you.”

  Micah smirked up at him and then dropped his arm heavily over Jackson’s waist, rolling over and all but straddling the man’s side.

  “Come closer,” he grunted. “I want you touching me everywhere.”

  Jackson let the omega shift and wiggle until he was satisfied, one leg hooked over Jackson’s thigh, an arm snaked around his waist, and his cheek rested comfortably against the man’s shirt. He went back to looking at the stars, humming happily into the night air.

  “What are you doing out here, anyway? It’s late,” Jackson asked. It was a silly question, but the very same one that Micah had asked him before. It seemed fair to check.

  “Watching the stars. Waiting for you.”

  “Huh. I’m here and you’re still looking up there?”

  “Just for a moment. You look, too. The stars are spinning so fast.”

  There were probably more stars in the omega’s eyes than the sky. As Jackson dragged his gaze away from the slowly burning trees and looked down at Micah’s profile, he could see it for himself. Dancing among the omega’s irises were small speckles of light, and when the omega realized that he was being watched and looked back at him, Jackson had to bite his lip to keep from saying something stupid and ruining the moment.

  He’d never seen this look before. It pained him to know that he was only imagining it.

  Jackson felt almost drowned with want. Everything was a haze of warmth and vibration, and Micah rolled over on top of him properly, spreading his legs on either side of Jackson’s waist as he straddled him. Jackson watched him move. Here, Micah was much more confident, and it was in the way that he planted his open palms on Jackson’s chest and rolled his hips a little, just hitching them forward for a second and watching the alpha’s reaction.

  “I think you should fuck me out here,” Micah said.

  It was so unexpected that Jackson just blinked in response.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice? You and me just like this. And it’s so warm already. It’s perfect…”

  It was warm. So freaking warm suddenly that Jackson was shocked he was just now noticing it. A few of the tree embers had grown into full flames. Some of the branches were properly on fire, crackling under the light of it. The reddened glow was mesmerizing. They were so clear, too, as if some high-definition picture and…

  Was it just Jackson? Or were the trees getting closer? The heat was certainly noticeable, just licking at his skin like a hungry dog, but the fact that he could see them all so clearly was a bit alarming.

  “Pay attention to me,” Micah ordered, fingers gripping Jackson’s chin tightly and turning his head back. “Don’t worry about them.”

  “Hey. Are they moving?”

  “Do trees have legs? Silly. They’re not moving anywhere.”

  If they kept on like this, soon the two of them would be surrounded by fire. It wasn’t like either of them was a stranger to it - the full body heat was almost a part of who they were. As if to make a point, Micah rolled his hips again, this time aligning his ass with the soft bulge in Jackson’s pants. Even here, Micah was always one move away from making him harder than granite. As if magnetized, Jackson’s hands went right to Micah’s thighs and rubbed them smoothly, just up and down, encouraging him to move.

  “God, I wanna fuck you right here,” Micah breathed. He gyrated his hips and let his head tilt back, one hand covering Jackson’s as he looked up at the sky. When his eyes slipped closed, Jackson could see the man’s thick eyelashes fluttering. “Wanna ride your cock so bad. Could we do that? Mmm - because it would feel so good. Always feels so good when you’re inside of me.”

  The omega was babbling, and it was just like the real Micah. The one that existed outside of these fevered dreams.

  Micah took Jackson’s hand and started to guide it up his body, right past the button of his jeans to the hem of the shirt that sat atop it. Jackson’s fingers wormed their way under the cloth, dancing along the warm and hidden skin of his abdomen.

  “Do you want me?”

  “Yes,” Jackson choked, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as Micah bore his weight down and started to grind against him properly. “Fuck.”

  “How bad do you want me? Is it getting to you?”

  “I’m fucking burning,” Jackson moaned, one hand gripping Micah’s thigh roughly, the other pushing the shirt up and out of the way, until the alpha could run his palm over Micah’s sensitive nipples. The omega whined, the most delicious sounds working their way out of his throat as his cock grew harder in his pants.

  It was true that Jackson was on fire. From where Micah’s thighs sat against his own, the omega seemed to be burning up, too, almost unreasonably hot and heavy against him. It wasn’t comfortable, but how could Jackson focus on discomfort when Micah was rocking in his lap like this?

  “I don’t want you to ever stop loving me,” Micah admitted.

  “One day, you’ll - you’ll, ah, shit,” Jackson groaned, bucking his hips up. Micah jostled on his body and laughed, finally looking down at his alpha - and there was so much danger in his gaze. It scared Jackson to admit it. “One day you’ll be sick of it.”

  “How could I be sick of this?” Micah asked honestly. He leaned down and nosed along Jackson’s jaw, working his way to the most strongly scented part of the man’s neck. There was the warm divot there that seemed to drive him mad, and dream Micah was no different. The omega stayed there for a while, breathing in deeper and deeper, hips still moving though in a more lazy and muted way. God, Jackson was so fucking thirsty for the man he couldn’t focus. It was like a sensory overload. The stars were spinning, the trees were on fire, and Micah was scenting him and grinding on his lap, the wet of his slick finally starting to seep through the fabric of his pants. If he weren’t covered by layers of denim, Jackson wouldn’t have waited a second to pull Micah’s cheeks apart and push into him.

  Really, there was nothing better than the easy slide of his cock going into the man’s warm channel.

  “Mine,” Micah breathed, the warm puff of air tickling Jackson’s neck. The omega nipped, too, likely leaving small red splotches against his alpha’s skin. “You’re mine and I’ll never be sick of you. I promise.”

  And Jackson wanted to believe that.

  But these were only dreams.

  The trees slowly became pyres. What had been warm, slightly humid summer air slowly cloyed with the ashes and errant embers of the inflamed trees. Micah remained on top of Jackson, face pressed into the comfort of the alpha’s neck and legs spread over the man’s waist. Jackson was so confused, growing more and more disoriented by the second. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t want Micah to stop. He wanted to come. He wanted to show Micah how good they’d be together if the omega would just stay with him long enough to see it.

  The eventual burn was too much. The fever reignited tenfold, and the uncomfortable sensations mixed with the pleasurable ones until Jackson couldn’t see straight. He gripped Micah’s thighs and fucked up against him properly, trying to find leverage by planting his feet on the ground and pushing up into the small crease between the omega’s cheeks. Too many clothes, too little time. Jackson wanted to be
balls deep in the man even if it meant burning the fuck alive in the process.

  “Don’t ever l-leave me,” Jackson grunted. “Fuck. Please.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Then Micah bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. When he came, he looked ethereal, a halo of red light circling the soft curls on his head. His voice caught in his throat and he tensed, gripping Jackson’s shirt as his movements became erratic. He came apart for what felt like forever, and after he was finished, he took a deep breath and continued to rock in Jackson’s lap, whispering encouragement to get him to come too.

  It didn’t take much. The omega pulled Jackson into an orgasm so fast and so hard that it was like he was choking on it. The peak was too high, and Jackson couldn’t feel a thing because he couldn’t breathe.

  Jackson’s lungs screamed painfully and he fumbled for Micah’s hand, terrified. Where was all of the oxygen? Why the fuck couldn’t he breathe? Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Help me,” Jackson coughed, voice cracking as soot began to gather in his throat.

  The trees were moving. Jackson and Micah were inches from their burning branches. The stars were completely gone, and in their place were ominous clouds of red from the burning leaves.

  Micah was disappearing. The smoke was too thick to see through. Jackson held tightly to his hand, panicking when the pressure from their grip turned to nothing, and the weight on top of him evaporated, too. He was burning to death, dying alone out here in the clearing, and he couldn’t see a thing.

  There was nothing he could do about it.

  * * *

  When Jackson came to, he was delirious.

  Someone was muttering to themselves, things were shifting around him, the low hum of a television was buzzing in his ear. He couldn’t focus on any of it. His mouth was dry, his head was aching something terrible, and he was completely overwhelmed by the need to mark. Bite. Claim.