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The thing is- the thing is, you see, that Charles never gets mad. He gets disappointed and sad and offended and hurt and upset, but he’s never angry. Which means that when Max decides to use his free time to take care of his own upcoming heat prep and causes an unfortunate flour incident in the kitchen slash living room area an hour before they’re expecting guests, he is wholly unprepared for the deep, rumbling, bone-shaking,
“Max, what the fuck.”
And perhaps Max would have been fine some other month, when his heat is not literally around the corner. Perhaps some other month, he would have gotten a little tremble down his spine and then shaken it off in favour of being curious about the sound.
It’s not some other month.
Max’s knees hit the floor.
“Alpha,” he chokes out as his world tilts, hands clasped in front of him, head bowed, eyes filling with tears. It’s almost blurry enough that he can’t see the dusting of white that covers the kitchen floor. Not that it matters. His heart is galloping away so fast his chest hurts, throat closing up in panic.
“Shit, fuck.”
There are footsteps. Max pushes his chin lower, something instinctive and shaky telling him to make himself small, inconsequential, that maybe if he’s good enough, his Alpha will stay for his heat to protect him, provide for him, take care of him, if he just stays perfectly still and quiet, he’ll be deserving of forgiveness and company.
Swallowing down his sobs, Max forces himself to freeze.
Charles falls to the floor in front of him, his hand settling on the side of Max’s neck.
“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He is sorry? Why would his Alpha be sorry? It’s Max who made a mess. It’s Max who’s on his knees, apologising. Is it not enough? Should he bow deeper? Should he-
Yes. Maybe yes. To get his Alpha to stay, always yes.
Slowly, Max turns his head to the side to expose his throat, air shaking in his lungs.
There’s a deep, hurt sound.
“Baby, don’t-”
A shuffle. A gentle hand on Max’s cheek, guiding his head back.
Max’s tears overflow.
What else is he supposed to do to make this right? How else does he fix this, ensures his Alpha is not angry at him, that he doesn’t go?
“Max, please look at me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out-”
Breathing picking up, Max feels warmth blooming in his stomach, spreading out to his very fingertips. Ignoring all the advice about thawing blue toes slowly, improving things gently, his body instead takes his icy panic and plunges Max into heat.
He sobs, wet and ugly, curling in on himself.
“What- oh, fuck. Max, baby, has it- it started, hasn’t it? Fuck, fuck.”
There’s some scrambling and retreating footsteps, and Max whimpers high, his entire body trembling with the realisation that his Alpha left him, he went away, he’s not here-
Wrapping his arms around his knees, he folds down into a neat loaf, almost like cats do. He tucks his face into his thighs, wound in tight. It gives him a sense of security even though some surviving logical part of his brain recognises that he’s horribly exposed here, on the cold tile floor in the middle of their kitchen.
Hazily, he picks up his Alpha’s voice from somewhere, talking in bursts even though there is no answer to be heard.
Phone. His Alpha is chatting over the phone like Max isn’t even here.
“Alpha,” he whines quietly, fingernails digging into his elbows. Tears slide down to the tip of his nose and drop to the flour-sprinkled floor. Max’s throat narrows, and he swallows and swallows until he can call out again, plaintive and scared, “Alpha.”
It’s silent. For a heart-breaking, terrifying moment, it’s silent, and then there’s cursing and French and his Alpha’s hands on his shoulders carefully pulling him up. Max keeps his eyes down, even when Charles’ fingers swipe over his cheeks, cleaning him up.
“I’m so sorry, baby, I never wanted to- can you look at me? Please, baby?”
Minutely, Max shakes his head.
“Okay, okay, that’s okay, I’ll just-”
One of Charles’ hands disappears. When it comes back, it smells strongly of Charles.
And Max can’t resist the comfort.
“Good, baby, that’s perfect, you’re so perfect. I’m so sorry,” Charles whispers. Max rubs his cheek into his Alpha’s palm, taking on as much of his scent as he can. The burning in him slowly builds even as his muscles relax, thoughts gradually returning to something less frenzied. His Alpha still wants him. He’s here.
God.
“Charles,” Max murmurs, voice thick and scratchy, and pitches forward.
“Baby,” Charles sighs, one hand slipping to Max’s nape to tuck him into his neck. Cautiously, Max nuzzles in. Only when Charles hums does he really press his face where it belongs, nosing into Charles’ scent gland, covering himself in his Alpha.
“Come here, baby,” Charles says, tapping the small of Max’s back before his palm pushes, warm pressure leading Max closer and up into Charles’ lap. With Charles’ arms securely around him, his lips brushing his temple, Max relaxes enough to fully realise his heat has started.
“Charles,” he says, a bit of panic seeping back. “Charles, I’m- the dinner- the kitchen- but I’m-”
“Shh, baby, I know, it’s okay,” Charles soothes, fingers sliding up and into Max’s hair to scritch-scratch over his scalp, pulling a short moan out of him. “It’s cancelled. We’ll take care of you.” A second’s silence. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay,” Max mumbles into Charles’ skin, licking over his throat. “You didn’t mean to.”
“No, I didn’t,” Charles confirms quietly, guiding Max a little bit off to run his tongue over Max’s scent gland in return.
A shiver works its way up Max’s spine, and he gives a grateful purr.
“How are you feeling?” Charles asks, laving over the spot more thoroughly before he rubs his scratchy cheek into it. Their scents mix, comfortable and familiar, exactly what Max needs as possessiveness tiptoes into the forefront of his mind.
“Shaky. Hot,” Max breathes, fingers curling into fists around the hem of Charles’ shirt. “Weird. It's heat, but different.”
“I probably messed you up,” Charles whispers guiltily, scenting him harder. “You started early. It’s my fault.”
“A little bit also my fault.” Max pushes his palms up Charles’ shirt to get at his naked skin. Pleased purring spills out of him, and he shifts his weight forward until Charles topples back with a yelp, landing in the spilled flour like it’s snow. Max plasters himself to Charles’ front.
“I should have been more careful,” Charles stubbornly carries on, but his hands find Max’s hips to stabilise him, keep him in place. Humming, Max bites gently at Charles’ throat and feels his palms slide up to rest on Max’s waist, burning through Max’s top almost as much as Max burns inside.
“Alpha,” Max invites softly, Charles’ hands spasming on his sides. “Take care of me.”
“Are you sure?”
Withdrawing, Max looks Charles over, as much as the haze that’s descending over him allows. Seeing what he loves and loving what he sees, he lets his head tip to the side again, offering himself.
“Alpha,” he repeats, breathy and sweet and enticing. Charles shivers under him, whining. “Make it up to me later. Take care of me now.”
“Yes,” Charles exhales, dazed. “Yes, I will, of course I will. I’ll take care of you so well, I promise, baby.”
Purring as Charles gathers him up, white streaks of flour decorating them both as they head for the bathroom, Max absently marvels at Charles’ strength, his scent, how soft his hair is under Max’s cheek. His early heat is making him needy in a sleepy, clingy, mellow sort of way, and wet enough to soak through his underwear.
“Alpha,” he mewls when Charles sets him down on the laundry machine, nosing into Charles’ neck while his hands keep their grip on his Alpha’s shoulders.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Yes.”
Charles’ hand steals down Max’s arm and side, dipping below his waistband to take him in hand. Whining, Max latches onto Charles’ collarbone, sucking a deep, claiming bruise while Charles jerks him off. The simmer underneath his skin sounds like a melody, like a hot summer’s day, like candy-sticky pleasure, and he spills into Charles’ palm easily, with a soft whimper, hips pushing forward and knees squeezing around Charles’ waist.
“Better?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Max confirms, gentle and dreamy in a way his heat has never been.
Charles shudders, visibly, the outline of him blurring in Max’s already slow head.
“You’re- different,” Charles whispers, his cool fingertips stroking Max’s chest, slipping lower. Max blinks, and their shirts are gone. “Running hot, like always.” He blinks again, and the rest of their clothes disappear. “And so wet.” A blink, and his Alpha is leading him into the shower. “But so, so sweet, also.”
“Alpha,” Max whines, soft and pretty. He ducks his chin again. Charles draws him in, and Max licks tenderly over his shoulder, marking and claiming and caring.
Charles’ chest jumps with a sharp inhale, and his shoulder jerks with it. Max follows, kitten-licking over his Alpha’s collarbone, the hollow of his throat, the edge of his jaw.
“Oh,” Charles breathes out suddenly, stumbling back.
Max stumbles with him like they are tied with strings, limb to limb. He noses into Charles’ scent gland.
Charles’ palms come up to cup his face and pull him away so that their eyes can meet.
“Are you trying to keep me, Omega?” Charles asks softly, his thumbs sweeping over Max’s cheeks.
With a purr, Max turns his head and gently presses his teeth into the side of Charles’ hand, closing over his pointer finger. Charles’ gasps sound perfect in his head, the echoes of them soothing some of the heat in his lower belly.
“I’m already yours,” Charles whispers, leaning in to brush their temples together even though it’s a little awkward with Max’s teeth still on his skin.
Hips kicking forward, Max lets go, licking over the impressions he left before he nudges his way into Charles’ hand, letting his palm sweep over him until it finally slides into his hair and holds him steady and then his Alpha kisses him.
A wavering moan slips out of Max’s throat, and then another when Charles brings him in by the waist. There is a hiss of water, and Charles shivers for a second before he relaxes and steps back, letting the warm spray wash over them both.
With a needy noise, Max follows until he’s flush with his Alpha’s chest again. Their bodies align, cocks pushing into the soft skin of each other’s abdomens.
“Alpha,” Max begs again, his cheek pressed into Charles’ shoulder, nose buried in his scent.
“Omega,” Charles murmurs back, a low timbre underlying the name. Max shivers hard, rutting forward on instinct until Charles’ touch directs him to the side, letting him push into the soft dip of his hipbone.
“All mine,” Charles says, in that same earth-trembling tone that tears out wires inside Max’s body just to slot them back moments later. ”And I’m yours.”
“Alpha,” Max whimpers, coming all over Charles’ belly. Charles keeps guiding his hips forward, warm fingers pressed into the small of Max’s back as he whispers into Max’s ear until Max finishes again, breaths hitching and eyes squeezed shut. The neediness in him dissipates a bit, but he keeps clinging to Charles regardless.
“Good?” Charles checks, stroking up and down Max’s spine.
“Yes, Alpha,” Max whispers, raspy and satisfied for the moment.
Charles’ chest puffs up with pride, low rumbles rolling out of him. He runs a gentle hand over Max’s stomach and cock, then over himself, washing away whatever is left there, and then pushes Max out of the shower to pat him dry. He swipes the towel over Max’s face, too, scrubbing over his cheeks, and Max giggles, an odd sort of heat-high sticking to him.
“Me,” he says quietly, pulling a new towel off the hanger to dry Charles as well.
His Alpha holds still for him while he works, head and shoulders first, then both arms down to each finger, the expanse of his back and chest. He slips to his knees again, leaving a kiss on the pinked up skin of Charles’ hipbone, and then down his legs to the tops of his feet. Max’s chest is vibrating with purrs, he can feel it.
“Omega,” Charles whispers, trembling and reverent. Max stares up at him for a moment, then bends down to bite at the side of his thigh, just above the knee. His teeth leave an indent; he soothes it with his tongue and looks back up.
“Max,” Charles says.
A displeased whine echoes off the tiles.
“Omega,” Charles corrects. Humming his contentment, Max straightens up a bit; presses his teeth into Charles’ waist; soothes the place. Finds Charles’ wrist; bites it; soothes it.
“I’m yours, I promise,” Charles says, reaching out to wind his fingers into Max’s hair. “I won’t leave, I’m yours to keep, my precious, precious Omega.”
With a whimper and a moan, Max stands up when his Alpha tugs at his hair. He pushes his nose, cheek, temple against the Alpha’s skin, rubbing and caressing until the bathroom smells of nothing but them, Charles’ chest shaking with low, pleased rumbles as he waits patiently for Max to get his fill.
Something below Max’s ribs won’t sit still, his heart pounding slowly, heavily, each beat a little earthquake spreading through Max’s veins. He can’t let go of Charles, in any way. When he wants to touch a different part of him, his fingers have to travel down his skin. When he wants to kiss his mouth instead of his shoulder, he has to trail up his neck, jaw, chin, and only then can he press their lips together. They are flush from their thighs up, arms wrapped around waists and backs, and it’s still not enough, every uncovered part itching.
Max licks over Charles’ scent gland again, whining softly, and his Alpha squeezes him tight before he laces their fingers.
“Yes. Come on.”
The world topsy-turvy-curves when Max’s skin loses contact with Charles’, dull pain throbbing up from his stomach instead of warmth.
“Alpha,” he whimpers, the hitch of tears underneath the word bringing Charles right back.
“All good, baby, it’s okay.” His palm squeezes the back of Max’s neck. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. “Come, Omega.”
Max stumbles where his Alpha leads him, breathing quick and on edge as the worry that Charles will leave him pinches on his insides.
But then they’re in bed, Charles’ weight pressing Max flat into the sheets for a second, and Max mewls and squirms and pushes until Charles sits with his back to the headboard instead, Max in his lap, thighs bracketing him and palms on his waist to keep him in place.
“You’ve trapped me,” Charles murmurs, hands splayed over Max’s ass, fingertips smearing wetness over Max’s skin, and Max burns and burns and yearns.
“Alpha,” he pleads, just as sweet and inviting as before, and Charles’ cock bumps into his thigh when it jerks.
“I always want you, Omega,” Charles chokes out, nosing desperately over Max’s throat. “You don’t have to do this to me.”
“Alpha,” Max repeats, Charles shivering under his hands and moaning into the dip between his collarbones.
“You’re so- god, you make me crazy,” Charles rasps, lines up and pushes into Max.
And it’s so different, it feels so different from Max’s usual heats. Everything in him mellows out, opens up, his Alpha fitting inside snugly, perfectly, Max’s lips stretching wide so that he can set his teeth against Charles’ gland and lick and suck, hard, making him buck up and fill Max even better.
Max purrs like a little engine, body shaky, skin more of a suggestion than a barrier when Charles touches him and it feels like he’s caressing Max’s soul, his fingers twining with the needy, tender parts of Max, making him feel wanted and cared for.
Withdrawing an inch, lips breaking their seal, Max laves his tongue over the mark before he takes it between his teeth.
“Omega,” Charles rumbles, bringing Max down hard by his hips to push his knot inside before it’s too late, the pressure sudden and delicious. Whimpering high, Max shudders apart, coming over their stomachs as he pants into his Alpha’s wet skin.
It should be a relief. Instead, it feels incomplete, not quite there yet, warmth building in Max’s belly all over again as Charles’ knot scrapes along the softest parts of him. He needs more, wants more, and-
A thin, pleading noise spills out of him, and then another and another. He grinds his hips down, latches back onto the gland and bites properly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-”
The knot catches, sealing them together. Max keeps his teeth in, purring.
“Baby, christ, a-ah-”
His Alpha comes, Max can feel it, how the heat in him subsides when he’s filled and claimed. But he’s claiming his Alpha also, and that makes the pleasure so much more intense.
“Omega.”
Max hums, lips locked to the mark, his mark, as he holds his Alpha in place. Max’s abdomen clenches, squeezing the knot inside him, and Charles whimpers.
“Let- let go, baby?”
Max pulls off, whispers, “No,” and puts his mouth back.
“Fuck, it feels like- it won’t- god, fuck-”
His Alpha’s voice is high, a little desperate. Max suckles on the mark, on the scent gland. Charles ruts into him, whining in oversensitivity, but he lets Max grind onto his knot in slow, small circles that make him purr loudly. The movement rubs just where it should, winding them both tighter and tighter. Charles comes again with a surprised yelp, his fingers digging into Max’s waist, his knot never having gone down; Max follows with a satisfied hum, teeth pressed into his Alpha.
He sucks, and Charles strains up hard.
“Omega, please, please, let go,” he babbles, fingers winding into Max’s hair and tugging gently. Max listens this time, but he still makes sure to soothe the darkened mark, licking softly while his Alpha shakes and shakes. When he pulls away completely, Charles slumps into the bed like his strings got cut.
“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, stroking slowly up and down Max’s spine. Max rests his cheek on his Alpha’s chest, sated and happy, and purrs.
The knot stays in for a while, longer than Max can remember ever happening. But that’s good. It puts to rest the last of his initial panic and worry when he can feel his Alpha close, his heartbeat soft and steady in Max’s ear.
When it does go down and slips out, it’s with a whine from them both, and Charles reaches over to press his fingers inside Max to stop anything from leaking out. Max kitten-licks over his chest in thanks.
“Charles,” he mumbles, tired and still a bit hazy.
“Hi, baby.” A kiss to the crown of his head.
“You Alpha-voiced me.”
“Yeah.”
“Mean.”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Max hums, stretching and moaning a little as Charles’ fingers shift in him. Pulling himself up, he rubs their cheeks together before stealing a kiss.
“That’s okay. I think I got you back.”
Snorting, Charles pumps his fingers in and out, slick and come easing the slide as he finds Max’s prostate. He rubs into it, pulling a mewl out of Max.
“How’s your heat?”
“Good. You took such good care of me,” Max slurs, face smushed into Charles’ shoulder, absently grinding into the touch. He trails his fingers over his mark. “And I, of you, maybe. Does - ah- does it hurt?”
“Feels like fireworks,” Charles says roughly, massaging in firmly, making Max shake. “You- I think you wanted to keep me. I scared you, and I left for a bit, and you panicked.”
“Yeah,” Max whines, head tilting back. Charles presses his mouth to the exposed skin before he rubs his cheek in it. “I wanted- I needed- please, Charles.”
“Tell me again,” Charles breathes, tickling the hollow of Max’s throat. “Keep me again.”
“Alpha,” Max says, heat swirling higher inside him again, and he can hear how much sweeter and plaintive his voice gets. Leaning in, he bites softly at Charles’ arm, then soothes it with his tongue.
“Yes,” Charles rumbles, deep and possessive, circling his fingers just right as he ruts against Max’s thigh. “You’re mine, yes? And I’m yours.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Max whimpers, the reassurance burning through him. “Mine, mine, mine,” he chants, nose pressing to his mark as he comes again, squeezing around Charles’ fingers.
“My Omega,” Charles rasps, thrusting up harder, catching the sensitive, dripping-wet spot behind Max’s balls. Max tilts his hips, and Charles slips inside with a groan just in time to knot him again, the pressure pulling a pleased, contented noise out of Max.
“My Alpha,” Max murmurs, breath slowing as he settles against Charles’ chest one more time, giving it a few caring licks. “Stay.”
“Of course, I’ll stay,” Charles whispers back. “Omega.”
“Alpha.”