Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Punk could see the door to the arena’s medical office right at the end of the hall. Perfect, it looked like he was going to make it before his heat fully kicked in and he wound up embarrassing himself. He’d never had much of a preheat phase, so unfortunately he didn’t get much warning. His heat symptoms had started right as his dark match did- thank god Gunther was a beta, and that he had the skills to improvise a little and wrap up the match fast. Punk had ended the match half-hard and slumped in a loose heap on the ground, but at least the perverts in his fanbase always ate that shit up. He’d managed to get backstage before he started really getting wet, and that’s what counted (at least, that’s what he was telling himself).

As he approached the medical office, he could see a bunch of the staff clearing out. Some of them with their coats pulled over their noses. Shit, was somebody else going into heat too? Misery loves company at least, he thought. Then it hit him, a wave of familiar scent that he should’ve been too far away to smell even with his heat heightening his senses. He’d know that smoky, almost herbal bitterness anywhere, and right now it was tinged with the sharp burn of rut. Drew’s scent was always enticing (to the point where he sometimes wondered if he had dragged their feud out a bit longer than he would’ve otherwise, just to have that beautiful scent pressed against his skin longer). But now it was all-consuming. His heat-soaked brain reacted to the pheromonal head rush of an alpha in rut; not even just an alpha, but the alpha he’d felt pulled toward since the day they’d met. Staring at the door to the medical office, holding himself back from rushing to the door like a bloodhound trailing a mark, he felt something in his mind click into place.  

He could see Adam Pearce talking with a few members of medical staff, probably working on finding somewhere more suitable for Drew to ride out his rut and creating a game plan to get him there safely. He knew Pearce would, quite responsibly, never let Punk anywhere near his rival in such a state. Never mind that the scent leaking through the door felt like it was seeping into Punk’s very bones and making that telltale feverish sensation of active heat creep over his skin. Punk had worked with Pearce long enough to know that getting his way was easy, as long as he was smart about it. As much as his body was screaming at him to just charge in there with Drew, he knew everyone else around would jump in to stop him.

So he went for a different gambit. Being mad at Drew was believable; they were each other’s favorite enemies for a reason, and his rut making the medical office functionally uninhabitable was undeniably an inconvenience. “McIntyre’s got the medical office blocked off? What the fuck is he even doing here?” he asked, trying to manifest the confidence of a man whose legs were not turning to jelly and who could not feel himself starting to leak through his little pink trunks. Pearce jumped a bit at Punk’s sudden appearance, but was clearly too distracted to pay attention to his current state. Thank god for betas.

Pearce sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. He came in to cut a promo with Seth for Elimination Chamber, but you can see how well that worked out. I’m working on getting him out of there, I- are you ok?” Pearce stammered out.

Drew’s scent leaking through the door was really starting to get to Punk. Trying to steel himself against the weakness in his legs and the haze settling over him didn’t appear to be working, so he shifted gears to lean into it instead. “Took a hit to the head in the match, I think its fine but I should probably-” he started, knowing exactly how much Pearce trusted any time Punk thought a medical issue was “fine”. Predictably, Pearce reacted before Punk could even finish his sentence.

“Absolutely, that should get looked at right away, um…” he said, before swearing under his breath. He looked over at the medical team clustered outside their office. “You all come with me, help me find somewhere that can work as a makeshift exam room while we figure this out,” he ordered. And just like that, Pearce and the medical staff were off down a nearby hallway. Perfect.

Punk took a second to double-check that nobody was around, and immediately made a beeline for the office. He opened the door to, thankfully, see only Drew inside. He was a mess. He’d torn off everything but his underwear, which strained obscenely around his hard cock. His entire body was flushed and gleaming with sweat; a couple drops fell from his mussed hair and dripped over his panting chest. He was already pretty deep in it; he’d probably thought he could make it through his promo before things started to get bad.

They locked eyes with each other, and Punk could see Drew’s pupils blown wide the sight of him. For a moment that’s all there was- the two of them, eyes locked together, their fever-wracked bodies filling the cramped space with dank humidity and scent.

“I’m gonna give you the chance to get out of here, before anything you’d regret happens,” Drew panted out, gripping the edge of the cot he was forcing himself to stay seated on.

Punk didn’t answer. He just smirked and grabbed a nearby chair to shove under the doorknob.

As soon as he turned back around, Drew was on him. He shoved Punk against the wall, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. Punk kissed back just as desperately, one hand grabbing a handful of Drew’s sweat-drenched hair and the other grabbing a handful of his ass. Their cocks ground together, separated only by the flimsy fabric of Drew’s underwear and Punk’s almost-as-revealing trunks. That feeling of having something click into place was back, and it seemed that Drew was feeling it too.

“God, I should’ve known it was you,” he panted, bucking his hips wildly as Punk reached down to stroke the bulge in his underwear. “I’ve wanted you for so damn long, I spent every match wanting to bend you over right there in front of everyone.”

Punk buried his face in Drew’s neck and inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent like it was oxygen. “Well you better not keep me waiting any longer,” he purred. He was already starting to feel his body relax and slump against Drew- he doubted he’d be able to stand much longer. His heats usually never got this intense so fast, but everyone knew that your first time with your true mate was different.

Drew scooped him up, and Punk did his best to wrap his legs around Drew’s waist on the short walk back to the cot. Drew let him down uncharacteristically gently, and he rolled onto his belly and shakily pushed himself up onto his knees. Drew pulled off one boot and then the other, tugging each of Punk’s relaxed legs out from under him as he slumped back onto his belly. Then he felt Drew’s fingers hook under the waistband of his trunks, finally peeling the wet fabric away from his sensitive, over-hot skin.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Drew growled. Punk looked over his shoulder to look at Drew, and he felt even more slick drip out of him at the sight. Drew clumsily shoved his underwear down with one hand, his impressive cock springing free and bouncing lewdly against his stomach. His other hand was busy shoving Punk’s trunks over his face, his eyes wild and desperate as he shamelessly huffed Punk’s scent. Punk weakly kicked at his thigh. “Come on, don’t get distracted,” he whined, trying and struggling to push himself back up onto his hands and knees.

He felt Drew grip his hips and lift him up into the proper position, his strong hands holding him firmly in place. Then the broad head of Drew’s cock was pressing into him, forcing an eager moan out of him. Drew was big- the stretch around his girth was somehow both overwhelming and effortless. Inch after inch slid into him, deeper than anything he’d ever taken, and the sensation flooded him completely without ever becoming painful or truly too much. Drew’s cock simply slid in and made a home for itself deep in his guts. It filled him perfectly, like a key in a lock.

Finally Drew’s hips pressed against Punk’s ass, his cock settling so deep inside him he could’ve sworn he felt it in his lungs. He could feel an intense shiver run through Drew’s body. Drew barely managed to groan out so fucking tight as he pulled back and slammed forward into Punk.

Punk lost himself in the feeling of Drew hammering into him, each stroke filling him with another wave of intense, numbing pleasure. It felt like his whole body was melting, his brain leaking out of him with every powerful thrust, his muscles going fully limp in Drew’s grip. He could hear Drew growling out little bits of filth like take it and wanna knock you up and gonna breed you like the bitch you are between heavy breaths. He could distantly hear loud, obscene moaning, almost screaming- shit, was that him?

The sensation of Drew’s knot starting to catch on its way in and out of him kicks him somehow even further into overdrive. His whole body thrums with anticipation, with the thrill of already being so incredibly full but feeling even more start to shove into him. He felt Drew’s hips come to a stuttering pause, and the wave of desperation could almost bring him to tears. He could feel that Drew was just as tormented, trembling against Punk from the sheer effort of stopping.

“No condom,” Drew managed to huff out, voice trembling just as badly as the rest of him. Punk let out a desperate, frustrated sound like a distressed animal. He was barely aware that he was starting to babble. “Good, fucking good, I want it inside me, put a baby in me right now or I fucking swear I’ll- oh fuck!” he cried out. Drew’s knot finally slid home and locked them together. He felt so impossibly full- so full it felt like it should be breaking him, and yet somehow he could still make enough room inside himself to take it. The orgasm that rolled through him felt like Drew’s knot forcing everything else out of his body- come and slick and euphoric, sated moans.

He could feel Drew’s cock throbbing inside him, pulsing in time with the waves of Punk’s orgasm. Drew pressed himself to Punk’s back, deep shudders running through him like electric shocks. Punk can feel the way his orgasm rumbled through his whole body, the low growl in Drew’s chest and the frantic twitching of his muscles accompanying the warm heat of his come pooling in Punk’s belly.

Drew slumped on top of him, the weight of him draped surprisingly comfortably over Punk’s back. He could feel Drew’s ragged breaths against his neck, and it filled him with another new ache. He arched his neck, presenting himself for his mate. “Bite me, bite me, c’mon, do it,” he ordered. He felt a purr of satisfaction rumble through Drew’s chest, and then the sharp pleasure-pain of Drew’s teeth in his neck.

Later on, after his brain had time to get back online, Punk would describe the feeling of being mated as an intense narrowing of focus. The ecstatic warmth of the endorphins rushing through him snapped him into a kind of tunnel vision, where the only thing in the world was Drew. His universe had re-centered itself to where he lay with Drew draped over him and locked inside him. His whole sensorium was dominated by firm flesh and sweat-soaked hair and rut-sharpened scent and pleasure.

Punk wasn’t able to come again right away the way alphas were, but he was easily able to take it as Drew started to grind into him again, enjoying the waves of rich, full pleasure as Drew’s second orgasm pumped into him. The warm feeling pooling just under his navel rippled outwards through his whole body in shimmery waves of bliss.

They both lingered there for a moment, taking the brief break from the demands of their bodies to just breathe together. Then he pulled back, twisting to get his mouth on Drew’s neck from his position underneath him. “Let me give it back,” he purred. Drew moved without any hint of hesitation, baring his neck and cupping Punk’s chin in his hand to help him complete the awkward position. Punk sunk his teeth into the sweet spot on Drew’s neck, tasting copper on his tongue as he gently licked over the wound. Drew let out a shuddery moan with each stroke of Punk’s tongue, his limbs turning to jelly as Punk’s tongue massaged over his scent gland, sending wave after wave of endorphins through him.

Drew slumped onto his side, pulling Punk with him into a spooning position. The motion tugged on Drew’s knot in a way that pulled a groan out of both of them. Punk felt Drew’s hand, uncharacteristically gentle, tilt his chin to look at Drew again. The icy blue of Drew’s eyes was reduced to a shining ring around his pupils. He stared at Punk like he was the most important thing on earth. Then their lips collided hungrily again, the tastes of each other’s blood mixing in their mouths as their tongues slid against each other.

Drew gripped Punk tightly around the waist and started rolling his hips against him again. Punk still felt spent, but the insistent pressure of Drew’s knot against his prostate didn’t take long to force another orgasm out of him. His cock weakly spit more come onto the dull pleather of the cot underneath him, and a hot gush of tears rolled down his cheeks. It was one last escalation, one more step past the level of overstimulation he thought he could take. His body felt completely wrecked, spasming helplessly around Drew’s cock as he sobbed his way through it. Drew let out a strangled groan as he spilled inside Punk yet another time.

There were no words needed in the afterglow. They just lay there together, feeling each other’s bodies pant and heave against each other as they came back down. Drew brought one hand up to wipe the tears away from Punk’s eyes. Punk leaned into him, tipping his head back again in an attempt to scent Drew’s neck.

It was a genuinely nice moment, so naturally someone came to ruin it. They heard the click of the doorknob turning, followed by the rattle of someone trying to force it, followed by the weak thump of someone trying to shove their way in. The chair Punk had shoved under the doorknob held.

“Fuck off,” Drew barked in the general direction of the door. “I’m in the middle of something here.”

The voice of Adam Pearce came through the blocked door. Apparently Punk’s diversion had run its course. “Drew! Can you hear me in there?”

“Yes I can hear you, now fuck off,” Drew responded, a slight growl running through his voice.

There was a few beats of silence; when Pearce spoke again, it was in an artificially calm tone that reminded Punk of a hostage negotiator. “Drew, I understand that you’re upset, but we have to get someone in there to make sure Punk’s okay. ”

Drew growled and held Punk closer. Punk spoke up. “I’m fine, Pearce. Just leave us alone, we’re a bit tied up right now,” he yelled.

“Oh! Punk! You’re fine?” Pearce asked, sounding shocked enough to send a wave of indignation through Punk. “We have help at the ready if you need-”

Punk cut him off. “Don’t fucking condescend to me, Pearce,” he barked. “If you try to separate us right now, my mate will kill you and I will happily sit back and watch.” He felt a purr of satisfaction run through Drew, and looked back at him to see a smug smile on his face. Punk made a mental note to bring Drew’s ego back down to earth later.

Even through the door, Pearce’s confusion was palpable. “Your mate. Yes. Of course, your mate,” he stammered. “It just sounded like you might have been…but yes, I hear you, there’s definitely no need for any violence.”

“Smart choice. So can we get some peace now?” Punk asked.

“Even better, we found a heat suite at a nearby hotel to move Drew to. Sending you there together should be no problem,” Pearce cajoled. “Now can we please get back into our medical office?”

Punk wiggled a bit on Drew’s knot, which was just barely starting to go down.

“Give us…five minutes,” he responded.

Drew let out a low chuckle and added, “Make it ten.”

Chapter Text

Punk stood up, legs still a bit wobbly, and carried the dishes from dinner back over to the dumbwaiter. The company had shelled out for a decent heat suite at least, though Punk was willing to bet they hadn’t budgeted for how long their stay would last. His own heat symptoms had almost completely faded, but at the thirteen-day mark Drew’s rut was still going strong. It was very common for the first shared heat-rut cycle between true mates to be…intense. But it looked like Drew was definitely going to fly past the two-week mark, which wasn’t typical. For a place this nice, the company card was going to be taking a hit. And Punk’s heat ending so much sooner than Drew’s rut sent a weird twinge of anxiety through him that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“If you’re going to take forever getting back to bed, then why not just let me do it?” Drew quipped from the bed. He didn’t make any effort to get up though; he seemed to still be in that space between waves where that characteristic restlessness of an alpha in rut faded and a bit of fatigue was allowed to creep back in.

“Because you’ve been doing everything and I’m sick of it. Fuck me for being happy to have use of my legs back,” Punk snarked back. But regardless, he didn’t waste any time getting back to bed, at least as much as his somewhat awkward gait would allow. Even though his own heat was over, the constant pheromones from his alpha kept him almost as wet as if he was still in the thick of it. Drew’s come was probably starting to leak back out too; no matter how tightly Drew’s knot kept him plugged after each round, 13 days of continuous breeding was a lot for his body to accommodate. He felt a bit bloated and over-full from how much he had already taken, and part of him was curious to see how much more his body could handle.

 He slid back into bed next to Drew, passively accepting it when Drew immediately pulled him close and swung an arm over him. God, I hope he’s not this clingy outside of his ruts, Punk thought. That twinge of anxiety was back- did part of him want Drew to be clingy? Did he want himself to want that? Or was it just the sudden uncertainty of realizing he didn’t know what the man he was now bonded to for life actually wanted or expected from it all?

He didn’t say any of that, of course. Instead he went with: “Do you think its weird that my heat ended so much sooner than your rut?”

Drew chuckled, a low rumble that Punk could feel vibrating through both of them. “What’s funny?” Punk asked, a bit offended.

“Isn’t it obvious? Your heat’s over because you’re already pregnant,” Drew responded, flashing the exact kind of smug smile that Punk loved wiping off his stupid face so much.

Punk froze for a second in surprise, then rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you’re just as delusional as ever. You can’t possibly know that. And on our first time together, what are the odds?”

“The odds don’t matter, you smell pregnant,” Drew responded, in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested he saw nothing at all insane about what he had just said.

“What? I don’t smell pregnant, I smell like you. Because we’ve been fucking for almost two weeks straight,” he replied.

“And you’re welcome for that, I smell good on you,” Drew teased. Punk, as much as he’d like to, couldn’t argue with that. Drew’s smoky, peaty musk was a surprisingly harmonious blend with his syrupy, almost molasses scent. “But that’s not what I mean. Even separate from the parts that smell like me, your scent is different. Softer, sweeter, less of that burnt edge to it,” he explained.

“Whatever,” Punk dismissed. “What’s the point of your rut still going if I really am already pregnant? If you have me bred already then your job is done.”

“Can’t hurt to keep going, really make sure it takes,” Drew purred, running a hand over Punk’s belly. Then he froze; Punk could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he briefly overcame his own rut-stupidity.

“I mean… if you don’t want it to take then obviously that’s fine. Or if you didn’t want to, you know. Keep it,” he stammered out, his usual confidence wavering. He sounded crushed under the weight of all the conversations they hadn’t had.

Punk thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I really wouldn’t mind keeping it. I always thought kids would be nice once I found my true mate,” he responded.

Drew seemed to relax a bit hearing that, letting himself pull Punk a little closer. But the silence still felt heavy, hanging over them in a way that made Punk want to squirm away.

“Do you think we’ll…y’know, start acting all couple-y and shit? Get married and fall in love like everybody else?” he asked.

Drew suppressed the emotion flashing across his face as quickly as possible, but Punk still caught the way his nose scrunched up in distaste. “I…honestly can’t imagine that, if I’m being honest,” he responded.

Punk felt the weight hanging over them lift a bit. “Me neither. It feels kind of crazy to say that it’s easier to imagine having a kid together than it is to imagine being like that with each other, but it honestly is” he confessed.

Drew chuckled. “It does sound crazy, but I couldn’t agree more. Having a few kids running around and getting to raise them up, that’s one thing. But in terms of my partner…I’ve honestly never even wanted that kind of relationship,” Drew answered.

Punk smiled, letting himself lean into Drew’s arms a little more. “Perfect, me neither,” he replied. Another piece clicking into place.

“Good, because once our kid is grown enough to not be so dependent on you, I’ll be right back to breaking you in the ring,” Drew quipped, his hands running over Punk’s body. His mouth dipped to Punk’s neck to nibble over his mating bite.

Punk bit back most of his laugh. “Is that supposed to be sexy?” he asked.

Drew didn’t respond, obviously distracted by his goal of getting back inside his mate. He moved to slide between Punk’s legs, and Punk wriggled back out from under him just on principle. The look of betrayal that flashed across Drew’s face was perfect.

Punk spat into his hand and gave Drew a few firm strokes, savoring the way the annoyed look on Drew’s face melted under his touch. “I’m gonna take care of you, it’s just my turn to be in charge,” Punk teased. He nudged Drew into a sitting position, sliding down to lap at the head of his cock. He went slow intentionally, curious how much teasing Drew could take in his current state. He wrapped his lips around the head, sucking greedily but refusing to move past the tip. His hands dropped to Drew’s thighs, stroking and squeezing the firm muscle and stubbornly avoiding his cock.

Drew was able to behave himself for longer than Punk expected – which, to be fair, wasn’t long at all. He was able to tolerate about a minute or so of Punk teasing the head of his cock before letting out a frustrated growl and gripping Punk’s hair. He forced Punk’s head down, ignoring the way he gagged as his cock breached the back of his throat. Punk put on a bit of a show of trying to pull back, more to egg Drew on than anything else. But for the most part he just hung on for the ride, focusing on relaxing his throat and letting Drew in as deep as he could.

Drew was, as always, brutal with him. He felt lucky that he’d had wild enough younger years that he was no stranger to getting his throat fucked, but still he couldn’t hold back the occasional choke or gag as Drew hammered his throat. His nose smushed against Drew’s pelvis, the dark hair tickling him as he drowned in his mate’s scent.

He considered tapping out as Drew’s knot started to swell, making him stretch his lips and eventually his jaw further open to let him keep thrusting. But Drew didn’t let up even a little bit, or even seem to recognize the risk of knotting his mate’s mouth, so he thought fuck it and focused on pulling as much air in as he could before it was too late. When Drew’s knot fully popped behind his teeth, it filled his mouth so much that his jaw immediately started to ache. As soon as they were locked together, Drew’s hand let up on its forceful shoving and switched to gently stroking his hair

Drew couldn’t really thrust anymore, at least not without really risking hurting his mate. But he didn’t really need to either, the intense pressure in his mouth and throat making Punk swallow reflexively around him, his body desperately trying to clear the obstruction in his airway. Drew’s thighs jumped and twitched; his head lolled back as his eyes glazed over with pleasure. He growled out take it, take my knot like you were made to, bitch before he went still and quiet, spilling so deep down Punk’s throat that he couldn’t have resisted swallowing it even if he wanted to.

It took a couple minutes for Drew’s knot to go down, Punk sucking air in hard through his nose so that just enough managed to make it to his panicking lungs. Drew kept stroking his hair through it, murmuring breathe and you’re okay and other little bits of encouragement until Punk could finally slide his knot out from behind his teeth. He coughed and gasped as he took full breaths again, sparks of light flickering in his eyes as air rushed into his burning lungs. He massaged his sore jaw as he worked his mouth open and closed, trying to ease the cramping pain that had snuck up on him while he was distracted by the lack of oxygen.

“Wow, what a fucking way to treat your pregnant mate,” Punk jabbed, without any real venom in it. He still didn’t really think he was pregnant. And regardless, he wasn’t even mad about getting his mouth knotted. He just couldn’t resist the opportunity to take a shot at Drew. But the words pregnant mate seemed to do things to Drew’s brain, so instead of the backtalk he expected, he got Drew pulling him close with shockingly genuine concern on his face.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he fussed, running his fingers over Punk’s jaw as he leaned in close. “You’re breathing okay, yeah? Does your throat feel alright?”

Punk pulled away from the fussing like a cat recoiling away from a bath. “I’m fine, asshole, I’m just annoyed with you,” he grumbled.

“Christ, fuck me for caring about whether or not I hurt you,” Drew scolded.

Punk didn’t actually care all that much, about getting his mouth knotted or about Drew’s fussing. He could take rough treatment, and he knew full well he was playing around with Drew’s rut instincts. But naturally, he had to argue back just on principle. “Yeah, you look real fucking concerned,” he snarked, flicking the tip of Drew’s still-hard cock.

Drew bit back a hiss at the prick of pain in his still-sensitive cock. “I’m in rut, you twat, that’s how it works,” he snarked back.

“Oh? Oh, you’re in rut and you need your mate to take care of you?” Punk quipped. He slid back over to shove Drew down onto the mattress. “Then this time, listen to me when I say it’s my turn to be in charge.”

For a second Drew tried to struggle and get back up to a sitting position, but when Punk swung a leg over him to straddle his hips he settled back into the pillows without any further complaint. He ground his hips up against Punk’s ass, his cock sliding between his cheeks. Punk did his best to suppress the shudder that ran through his body at the feeling of his mate’s cock rubbing over his hole.

Punk planted both hands against Drew’s chest; holding him down wasn’t necessary, but it felt good. “If you want me to take care of you, you’re gonna lie there and take what I give you this time. Got it?” he ordered.

The next wave of Drew’s rut was obviously taking over; the telltale flush was creeping back over his skin, and his body quivered with the effort of staying still. But all he did was nod dumbly, mouth hanging half-open as his breathing started to get heavier.

Punk guided Drew’s cock into him and slowly pressed down, feeling it spread him open and fill him up again inch by delicious inch. He was past the point where he was even really that aroused anymore, his soft cock drooping against Drew’s belly as he slid into a seated position on his hips. But it didn’t matter; he could take an alpha’s rut no matter what, and Drew was his alpha. With others, helping them through a rut when he was past the point of getting it up again himself was comfortable and inoffensive. With Drew, the same feeling became warm and rich and satisfying.

He sat on Drew’s hips for a moment, not giving him anything beyond a little wiggle as he got comfortable. He savored the tortured look that settled over Drew’s face, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth tightening in a hard line as he held himself back from thrusting up into his mate. Punk clenched down on him, sending a full-body shiver through him as he whimpered out please.

Punk finally took mercy on him, sliding up slowly and shoving himself all the way back down in one rough stroke. He set a quick pace, enjoying all the little noises he managed to pull out of Drew. His mate was the perfect image of a tamed alpha, red and sweat-soaked and twitching and growling but still just lying back and taking Punk like he as a gift. “You like that, baby?” he purred. “See how good it feels when you shut up and let me take what I want?”

Drew whined out a helpless-sounding yes and reached out to grip Punk’s hips. Punk grabbed both his wrists and pinned them by either side of his head, and Drew yielded to him immediately. The change in angle as Punk leaned forward made Drew’s cock grind hard against his prostate, and he could feel his limp cock twitch with each thrust as it struggled and failed to get hard. “Nope, none of that,” he panted out. “You’re gonna lay there like the bitch you are, and you’re gonna love it because it’s what you were made for. You’re my alpha, you were meant for me. Coming inside me is what you were born to do.”

He felt Drew’s knot starting to catch on each bounce, and the feeling drove Drew feral. His hips twitched upward helplessly against Punk’s ass, the urge to thrust up and lock them together almost overwhelming his will to submit. His eyes were screwed tightly shut; his muscles trembled like a dog hunting in its dreams. He let out low, dirty growls punctuated with contrasting whimpers of please, please, please.

Finally, Punk shoved himself down as Drew’s knot swelled fully and locked them together. Drew came hard, moaning shamelessly as his hips bucked up against Punk unconsciously. Punk let out a rough groan of his own, the intense pressure of Drew’s knot against his prostate and the hot gush of come deep inside him sending electric shocks of pleasure through his spent body. Drew’s orgasm lasted what felt like forever, each spurt of come adding to the building pressure in Punk’s lower belly.

Drew’s orgasm finally slowed to a halt, and he slumped back against the pillows to catch his breath. Punk dropped a hand to his abdomen, running his hand over the slight bulge that was starting to form from how impossibly full he was. He looked at Drew’s face and saw his sharp blue eyes locked on the bump, the post-orgasmic fog already starting to clear out of them. Punk took one of his big hands and brought it to cup the curve of his belly, a smug look on his face at way Drew’s breathing hitched as he gently stroked over the bump. “Got me bred right, huh?” Punk preened.

Drew grunted out a vague affirmative, his gaze still fixated on Punk’s belly. A beat of silence hung in the air, the only motion Drew’s thumb stroking little circles on Punk’s skin. “So, we’re even then right?” Drew asked.

Punk didn’t understand the question. “Uh, yeah?” he responded.

“Perfect,” Drew growled, gripping Punk’s hips and rolling to get on top of him. The motion tugged roughly at the point where they’re joined, but Drew didn’t miss a beat as he shoved Punk into the mattress and hiked his legs over his shoulders. The tight grip of Punk’s hole around Drew’s knot did nearly nothing to stop him from fucking Punk deep and hard, his hips bucking insistently from desperation. Punk whimpered and groaned through it, Drew’s knot hammering his prostate mercilessly. Drew kept growling out little bits of filth like so fucking sexy with my baby inside you and gonna keep you full forever and wanna put a whole litter inside you in between moans and growls and mine.

The orgasm that Drew’s knot forced out of Punk felt violent; his whole body shuddered as his limp cock spat a few drops of come across his belly. His hole spasmed tightly around Drew, pulling another orgasm out of his mate almost as forcefully. Drew bit down on his mating bite as he came and came and came, the endorphins running through Punk soothing and grounding him through the intensity of it. He could feel hot jets of come splatter across his cheeks and upper thighs, forcing its way out around Drew’s knot as his body failed to hold in any more.

Drew managed to keep his head on straight enough to actually settle down on top of Punk in a comfortable position, instead of just collapsing on top of his mate like a dead man. The silent space that followed was comfortable, a warm and glowy kind of peace with each other. He couldn’t ever have imagined this, having everything work out so perfectly out of nowhere. The realization of how easily he’d found the perfect mate pulled a soft laugh out of him.

“What’s funny?” Drew asked.

“Alphas are so easy,” he responded. Of course he wasn’t going to say Drew was the perfect mate, that would just go to the fucker’s head.

Drew rolled his eyes. “You say that like you don’t love it, smug bastard,” he grumbled.

“I never said I don’t love it. I do love it, and I absolutely love that my alpha is no exception,” he purred. And he really meant it. That nagging anxiety from before was gone. He’d stumbled and fallen into the lap of an alpha who would happily give him all the babies he could want, and who wouldn’t try to change who he was in the process. Who wouldn’t try to force their bond to mean all the usual things that had always sounded so gross to him, who wouldn’t expect him to fake tears at a wedding altar, who would let his independence flourish without acting like he needed to be tamed. Shit, he was almost getting sappy over what a relief it was that this didn’t have to be another sappy love story.

“You were right earlier, we should run back our feud the first chance we get. Gotta make sure the people know this doesn’t change anything,” he said. All Drew managed was a sleepy affirmative as he started to doze off, locked together with his mate.

Chapter Text

Drew shut the door as quietly as he could and looked around the living room. On one side, he could see Chaz sleeping soundly on the windowsill. On the other, he could see Larry in his bed, just as dead to the world. Perfect. Lately Larry had been spending every second that he possibly could (aside from the time he spent working out his place in the cats’ pecking order) in Punk’s lap, guarding his belly. Like the wee shite thought Drew couldn’t do his job or something. But since he was asleep, he wouldn’t interfere with Drew’s plan to sneak up on his mate.

At least Larry had the decency to recognize that it wasn’t Drew that Punk needed protecting from. The rest of the world had needed some convincing. He’d heard lots of unsavory whispers from people who assumed that what he and Punk had couldn’t be healthy. At the beginning he had supposed they’d earned it with their in-ring antics; they certainly didn’t portray the kind of pair that would have a healthy, consensual, and mutually fulfilling mate bond. And the less-than-ideal circumstances of their initial mating had certainly not helped. Apparently everyone who walked past medical that one fateful day had heard the sounds Punk was making and worried that Drew was going to kill him. Funny. If the screams of a dying man sounded half as good as his mate sounded in heat, Drew might just have to bring the “psychopath” persona into real life just to hear it more often.

But as things went on and they settled into their relationship- confirming the pregnancy, moving Drew in with Punk in Chicago, working out the transition from rivals to mates to future parents- the opinions of people around them didn’t settle in kind. Punk hated it just as much. He had plenty to say about people condescending to omegas, not respecting his choices, the whole lot. And Drew thought he was right about all of it. When they had a deeper connection than just on-screen rivals struggling to contain their lust for each other, it turned out that Punk was right more often than Drew expected.

They’d wanted to keep their relationship fairly private at first, but they realized eventually that it made it seem like there was something to hide. The last straw had been a well-meaning but poorly-received “check-in” from Cody that Punk had come home from absolutely fuming (apparently Cody was a “stupid fucking beta” who “doesn’t understand shit”, none of which Punk would still believe once he calmed down, but that Drew had no interest in arguing with him over). Drew wasn’t a naturally comforting person, but he’d learned pretty quickly how to placate Punk in situations like that before he could put too much stress on both himself and the baby.

For the sake of getting the rest of the world off their backs, they started appearing together more often, both in person and on social media. That had gotten rid of the worst of it- while people still seemed to struggle with understanding their unconventional relationship, they at least understood that it was healthy and stable rather than a 24/7 redux of Hell in a Cell, abusive alpha edition. Their game of playfully trolling each other on social media helped with that a lot; neither of them were willing to fake the more conventional kind of partnership just for the sake of keeping up appearances. But showing people their reality- that they were genuinely happy with their unconventional bond- at least got the speculation to die down.

Drew heard the microwave beep from the kitchen. Perfect, the doorway to the kitchen was at the perfect angle for Drew to line up the camera shot without Punk seeing him coming. He set the bakery box down on the coffee table and pulled out his phone, opening the camera app and making sure all the settings were as he wanted them before making his way to the kitchen. He peeked in to see his mate wolfing down a slice of leftover pizza and distantly thanked God that he had bothered to heat it up properly- Punk always got snippy with him over his reminders of what extra precautions he should be taking during the pregnancy.

Since his mate was distracted, he could take a second to check that he had the shot framed correctly. Once he was satisfied with everything, he stepped into view and hit record. He took an exaggerated inhale of satisfaction before proudly announcing, “Another beautiful day to be the man who put CM Punk out of commission once again!”

He’d set it up perfectly, the shot perfectly capturing both his smug grin and the way Punk scowled around his bite of pizza once he processed what was happening. He looked even more like a sad old street cat than usual: the hint of pregnancy glow he’d acquired battling with his eyebags, his t-shirt baggy everywhere except around his growing belly. Drew looked positively victorious in comparison, or so he’d like to think. Punk flipped him off as he hastily chewed his bite of pizza enough to speak.

“You get my muffins, asshole?” he grumbled.

“Yes, yes, I got your muffins, your majesty,” Drew responded. He cut the camera right as Punk launched into his usual tirade about how he was spending all his time at home bored out of his skull making an entire person from scratch when all Drew had to do was come inside him, and how he was going to start waking Drew up by kicking him in the bladder at 3 am if he didn’t cut the bullshit. Drew wasn’t sure that he timed the cutoff right, but he could always edit it later to really nail the perfectly-cut-scream effect.

He already knew the comments were going to be annoying but acceptable, a lot of stuff along the lines of do these two get how being mates works lol and I thought them mating each other would make whatever they had going on make more sense but now I’m even more confused. It had taken them both a while to figure out why everyone was so lost, but what they eventually landed on was that people expected them to fall in love. They’d shared a few good laughs over that. Drew had been genuinely a little surprised that so many people still had such a story-book understanding of how mating bonds worked. It was all biochemical, it wasn’t going to magically make either of them want that kind of saccharine-sweet love story. A bite mark and a hit of endorphins would never be enough to change who they were, it just confirmed that they were right for each other. Maybe that was the source of all the half-joking comments from family and friends about how their kid was going to be a little monster- they went together like nitro and glycerin, not like sugar and spice.  

When Drew looked up from his fiddling with the video, Punk was gone, taking his slice of pizza with him. He heard Punk say “Oh nice, they’re still warm” from the living room. Drew was hardly even surprised with Punk’s mood swings anymore; it’s not like he’d been a paragon of levelheadedness before the pregnancy hormones took over. He walked over to where his mate was seated on the couch, inspecting his muffins while still tearing through his slice of pizza. He’d fully embraced his cravings under the mantra of baby weight doesn’t count, and Drew certainly didn’t disagree. Not when he got to have his mate all soft and round and gorgeous for him.

“They were out of the orange-cranberry ones you wanted, but when I told them I had a pregnant mate demanding them at home they took pity on me and threw together a batch,” Drew explained. He sat down next to Punk as he finished his pizza slice and started peeling the paper off of one of the muffins. Punk wordlessly swung around to plop his swollen feet into Drew’s lap, and Drew sighed and started rubbing them just as wordlessly. People were right that he’d created a monster, but it wasn’t growing in Punk’s belly.

“You see Seth’s promo about me?” Punk asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

Drew didn’t feel the same way. “The one where he told Jey he’s stuck dealing with the Vision alone because you…how did he put it, couldn’t keep your legs closed? I wanted to kill him for that,” Drew responded, in a tone that he thought was perfectly even and calm.

Punk chuckled. “Settle down He-Man, you know how heel work is. You don’t need to jump in and defend my honor. He got crazy heat for it, Twitter is in shambles. He’s been officially declared ‘not an omega’s omega’, whatever that means,” Punk reasoned through a mouthful of muffin.

Drew rolled his eyes. “Well he’s getting heat from me too, and if he keeps insulting my mate I might have to talk to the higher-ups about getting traded back to Raw to settle it,” Drew responded.

Punk actually had the nerve to laugh out loud at that. “What, you’re the only one allowed to insult me?” he teased.

“Exactly, I’m the best at it,” Drew reminded him, the voice of reason as always.

“Imagine how much it’d mess with the people who can’t figure out our relationship if you wrap up a feud with him over defending my honor, only to immediately start feuding with me again the second my paternity leave is over,” Punk joked.

“It’s not a half-bad idea, let them wallow in their confusion. We don’t owe them shite, much less some stupid vapid romance plotline that no one who knows anything about us would believe,” Drew replied.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I absolutely do not need you treating me like a damsel in distress any time someone looks at me funny-” Punk started.

“Well I’m going to anyway, you twat,” Drew spat back, his mood still soured from the reminder of how that smug little peacock had talked about his mate.

“If you had let me fucking finish I would’ve said it’s kinda sexy,” Punk shot back.

Drew paused for a second, not expecting that. Then it was his turn to laugh. “Need it again, do you?”

“A blowjob would be nice,” Punk admitted. “Blame the hormones.”

“Not sure how fair it is to blame the hormones when all it took beforehand was a stiff breeze,” Drew teased. “Or a stiff strap to my back, you perv.”

Punk rolled his eyes. “ Do you want to crack jokes or do you want to fool around?”

Drew, admittedly, was thankful for Punk’s high sex drive during the pregnancy. It helped absolve his lingering fears about hurting the baby, which he had initially had trouble shaking even with the doctor’s reassurance. “Of course I want to fool around,” he agreed, sliding his hands from their position rubbing Punk’s feet up his calves, eventually settling them on his thighs.

Punk eagerly opened his thighs under Drew’s hands, wriggling into position to give his mate easy access. Drew made a half-hearted effort at teasing him, his hands lingering on his hips, thumbs rubbing little circles into the spot where thigh meets groin. Punk wasn’t having it. He let out an impatient huff and grabbed Drew’s wrist, pulling it over to cup the growing bulge in his sweats. Drew squeezed and stroked him through the fabric, enjoying the satisfied sigh it pulled out of him.

He tugged Punk’s sweats down and off, settling between his legs to press kisses against his hipbone. Punk let out another little huff and squirmed a bit under his touch, already fully hard and starting to leak slick. This time Drew decided not to even try to keep him waiting, dragging his tongue up Punk’s cock and punctuating the motion with a wet kiss to the head.

He took Punk into his mouth, bobbing his head slowly and pressing his tongue against the vein running up the length of it. He looked up to watch Punk’s lax, pleased face. The view made it impossible to ignore the belly bump, not that he would want to even if he could. Ever since Punk had first started showing, Drew wanted to have his hands on his belly all the time. And as much as he enjoyed teasing Punk about how soon enough he’d be waddling around all huge and over-full, he’d be lying if the thought wasn’t a bit of a turn-on.

He took Punk as deep as he could, the head of his modest omega cock nudging the back of his throat. Punk let out a gasp followed by a low groan, his fingers running through Drew’s hair. Drew’s hands moved to Punk’s belly, pushing his shirt up to cup the curve where it swelled out above his pelvis. Punk’s moan trailed off into a chuckle. “Pervert,” he teased, the hand not carding through Drew’s hair coming to meet the hand on his belly. Drew pulled off to respond. “Am I not allowed to appreciate my handiwork?”

“Not when it distracts you from taking care of your mate,” Punk replied, pressing on his head to encourage him back down onto his cock. Drew obliged, immediately taking him deep again, but he kept a hand on his belly as well. At least, until Punk started smacking lightly at the hand on his belly and whining out fingers in that breathy, desperate voice that Drew never could say no to. He begrudgingly pulled his hand away from Punk’s belly to slip two fingers into his dripping hole. He was nearly as wet as he would get in heat. Drew thanked God for pregnancy hormones yet again.

Punk didn’t take long to creep up to the edge of orgasm; Drew would be lying if he said he didn’t like responding to Punk’s impatience with overstimulation. His fingers nailed Punk’s prostate over and over, the rhythm of his fingers phasing in and out of step with the rhythm of his mouth around Punk’s cock. Punk gripped Drew’s hair tightly, shoved himself so deep that Drew’s nose smushed a bit against his pelvis, and came with a tortured-sounding groan as he spilled down Drew’s throat.

Drew barely took a moment to catch his breath after swallowing everything Punk had to give him, leaving a trail of kisses up his mate’s belly as he hastily freed his neglected cock. He wrapped a still slick-drenched hand around his cock and let out a low growl of pleasure. He was so much more worked up than he realized, feeling almost drunk on his mate’s scent and slick and come and the beautiful swell of his belly. Punk, still panting but starting to come back to Earth, spread his legs even further. “Your turn, big boy,” he encouraged.

Instead of burying himself inside his mate like part of him wanted to, Drew instead pushed Punk’s slick-soaked thighs together. He slid his cock between them, just high enough that he could feel his cock brushing over Punk’s balls on each stroke. Alright, maybe he was still a little worried about hurting the baby despite all the reassurance.

Punk squeezed his thighs as firmly as he could around Drew’s cock, and Drew humped desperately into the tight space. He felt like a man possessed, the insistent throbbing between his legs demanding relief. One of his arms wrapped around Punk’s calves, helping hold his legs together around his cock, while the other went back to stroking and caressing his belly. He could feel the tip of his cock nudge the lower curve of Punk’s belly on each stroke, and the feeling drove him mad each time.

It took him a moment to realize Punk was talking him through it. “So worked up over your baby inside me. I bet once I’m further along you won’t be able to help yourself at all. I’ll be all big and round and heavy and I’ll have my alpha constantly hard and dripping and begging to get into my cunt,” he purred. Drew groaned, strangled and helpless, his hips stuttering wildly as he imagined it. Punk soft and full and ready to pop. The knowledge that it was Drew’s doing unlocking some deep-rooted instinct that demanded again, again, always full, always mine. “Bet as soon as I push this one out you’ll just put another in. Or two or three, you keep saying you want a full litter right?” Punk purred.

That last mental image, of Punk impossibly full with as many babies as Drew could pump into him, is what drove him over the edge. He cried out as he came, his come splattering over Punk’s belly in hot wet gushes. He slumped back on the couch, completely spent, still trembling a bit.

There was a few beats of silence as Drew came back down. Punk eventually broke it with “You made a mess.”

Drew let out a low chuckle. “Guess I’ll just have to clean it up then,” he replied, leaning down to lap up his come from his mate’s belly. But of course, nice moments always get interrupted. Larry stormed in from the other room, barking insistently. Usually if he was upset about something he would go right to Punk; while Drew had no real affection for the ugly wee thing, he was still a bit offended at always getting treated like chopped liver. But this time he scurried up and locked eyes with Drew. They both knew that could only mean one thing.

Punk gave him a look. “You seriously need to get that cat under control,” he scolded.

“I know, I know, we’re working on it,” Drew muttered as he tucked himself back into his pants. He sped to the kitchen as best he could with his legs still feeling a bit like jelly. He found Toby right where he knew he would, hunched over Larry’s bowl and devouring his food like there was a famine on the horizon. He didn’t even notice Drew coming up behind him until he was already getting scooped into his arms, the greedy little bastard. “Damn it Toby, the dog’s food’s no good for you,” he scolded over the sound of Toby’s protests.

He carried the cat with him as he headed back to the living room where Punk was cleaning himself up. He took a moment to watch as Punk finished mopping up the last of Drew’s come splattered over his belly, cruelly tucking it back under his T-shirt. Punk looked up to see Drew standing there, cat and all. “What are you staring at?” he quipped.

Drew could say a lot of things. He could say he was staring at his sexy pregnant mate. He could say he was thinking about how despite all the little annoyances, he could absolutely get used to this little life. He could say that even though most people didn’t understand, he was amazed how everything had clicked into place so effortlessly. But of course, he didn’t say any of those things. That would just stroke the bastard’s ego.

“Some scruffy thing the cat dragged in, I think,” he snarked back. He really wished he could’ve gotten Punk’s enraged response on video, but some things had to just be for him.