Chapter Text
When the front door is pushed open the scent of fresh mint smacks George in the face, it's undeniable that his omega is surely hidden somewhere dark and safe. The rest of their home is too bright for the blond, the remnants of the sun peeking in through sheer curtains that hide away windows. They are typically left open, however, with the sea of the omegas scent so heavy in the air they have been shut and locked.
That was George’s doing, taking the precaution before he left for work this morning. Dream’s cycle has always been consistent and George has done his best to always protect his mate— even when other duties drag him from the man’s side. One week of inescapable lust, four times a year. The heat his omega is plagued by typically lines up with his rut, however, lately, he has been off. His doctor said it was stress, but George believes his body is trying to prevent him from breeding as some sick joke.
He’s happy, though, when Dream drops into his heat whilst George has a clear head. With both cycles present, they rip at one another in search of what they yearn for. When only one of them is desperate it’s easier to ensure they get what they need.
His steps are slow and careful, avoiding creaking floorboards to make his way into their quaint bedroom. Umber eyes skim over the room, the blanket ripped from the bed, leaving its sheets in shambles. Pillows were abandoned on the floor, their shared closet door shut despite the edge of the duvet lodged in the crack. George sighs, fondness leaking out as he cracks open the door slowly to not wake his mate.
There he is, wrapped up tight in white linen, curled into himself making his body appear as small as possible. Yet, he is still too large, legs stronger than the typical omega clutched to his chest by arms capable of more than George himself has the ability to accomplish. He watches him intently, admiring the way his lids flutter amidst his slumber, how his nose twitches every so often.
George once felt inferior to this omega, despite being an alpha, he is much smaller than his mate. However, the blond lacks certain instincts that George developed and leaned into. Dream isn’t protective, he’s not territorial over anything that isn’t George, and he consequently has a lower social ranking. Though George is small, he isn’t weak by any means. The blond’s strength is due to his confusing stature, being the only six-foot-two omega that George has ever met.
He crouches down, pushing sandy blond hair from his mate’s forehead, gauging his temperature with the back of his hand. Dream is warm to the touch, his cheeks flushed, it’s not as alarming as it seems. His partner’s heat would surely be coming to a climax soon, and when it does he will awake and search for his alpha.
A wish sprouts into George’s head, that he would have made it home in time to ask to join his omega in the nest. Instead, he leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of Dream’s head before rising to his feet and pulling his hoodie over his head. Without disturbing the blond too much he tucks the article under his arm and latches the door.
That was the first thing George was ever taught after he presented— never enter an omega’s nest without asking permission or being invited. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been mated for decades upon decades, that omega’s nest is the safest place they can hide. Any alpha who threatens that shows no respect. At least, that’s what his mother said, in reference to his omega father.
So, he settles on the couch, book in hand, awaiting his partner’s need for attention. The pages all muddle together, his mind tired from the never-ending stress of the day. There's a pile of paperwork on George’s desk in his office, he should take care of that soon though he makes no move to call his assistant and have them faxed to his home. He remains resting, his legs stretched out across the sofa, nose buried in a book he has almost finished.
By the time he hears bare feet padding down the hallway, he’s on the last page, glancing up to watch his mate come to stand in front of him. The blond has his nose buried in the pale blue fabric of the hoodie George gave him.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” His voice is muffled, barely distinguishable by how tightly his face is pressed into the hoodie.
George shrugs, his back resting against the cushion beneath him. “You looked tired.”
“You could’ve laid with me.”
“You weren’t awake to invite me into your nest.” He holds his hand out, urging his partner to take it.
Dream’s palm is hot to the touch when it greets his own, shaky fingers skimming over George’s wrist before the blond talks once more, his voice nearly inaudible. “You’re always welcome in my nest.”
With that the blond finds his spot on the couch, pressed against George’s side, his face nuzzled into the brunet’s neck. Slow breaths trickle out over the scent gland just over his jugular and George thinks that the blond has fallen asleep again until a hand comes to rest low on his stomach. Long thin fingers splay out just over his navel, the omegas heat radiating from his skin and dampening the fabric it touches.
George skims over the remaining paragraph’s, knowing his ability to focus entirely on the page before him is dwindling and it’s dwindling fast. Lips graze one of the most sensitive spots on his neck and George tries not to react, tries not to press up into the hand on him, tries not to get lost in the scent of fresh mint that mixes with his own amber in the air that surrounds them.
His omega is needy, trapping George’s thigh between both of his own and pressing his groin into the alpha's hip. He can feel how hard Dream is already, his length grinding relentlessly. Heat radiates from him, sweat starting to seep into George’s t-shirt. A small whine trickles out against his neck and something flips in his stomach, setting loose a swarm of fireflies. The feeling is familiar, though George thinks nothing of it, his mind reeling with his omega’s scent.
The final line on the page reads like hieroglyphics, not making much sense to his glossed-over brain riddled with the feeling of teeth grazing his scent gland. George emits a sigh when it’s trapped between sharp ivory. He closes his book slowly, earning a hum from the omega who is immediately pushing the object out of the brunet's hand and onto the floor where it lands on its spine with a loud thud.
It surprises Dream, causing him to whimper and tuck himself deeper between George and the back of the couch, his hips tightly pressed to George but no longer in search of friction. His teeth leave the brunet’s skin, instead, a prominent cheekbone is pressed to George’s. It’s comforting for the heat-stricken omega to brush the scent gland in his cheek along the one that’s in the brunets. Like a hug.
George coos, “It’s okay, just be careful.”
“I want your attention.” The blond whines, his hand clutching onto George’s shirt like it’s his only lifeline. “Please?”
He huffs a gentle laugh, rubbing his cheek against his mate’s one last time before he kisses him quickly and sits up. “Of course.”
George helps the blond to lay on his back, admiring the dopey grin that displays unflawed ivory. His heat has left him in boxers that have already soaked through with slick from their close proximity, the thin t-shirt drenched in the sweat that pours from his pores the hotter he gets. Arguably, the fever is the worst part of an omega’s heat. Unbearable at times, not necessarily grueling but not comfortable either.
Sweat and slick mixed together on Dream’s thighs, George can’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss it away. A low whine is exhaled into the atmosphere when George’s lips graze sensitive glands along the inside of his mate’s shaking thighs. The reaction is immediate, slick dripping through the fabric of Dream’s boxers and soaking into the couch. Maybe this wasn’t the best spot to take care of such a messy task.
He bites softly onto one of the glands, earning a series of whines and whimpers, fingers threading through his hair. The hem of the blond’s boxers is stuck on his upper thighs, his growing bulge barely concealed by thin cotton. His thighs are thick and quivering beneath George’s touch, low moans escaping his throat any time the brunet gets even a centimeter closer to where the boxers hold him captive.
With nimble fingers George frees him of the confining fabric, attempting not to get caught up in how the tip of Dream’s aching cock is tinted a pretty hue of red, instead choosing to kiss sweetly at his omega’s stomach.
“This okay?” George asks, glancing up to watch his mate sputter out an answer.
“Y-Yes.” The blush on his face deepens when he catches George examining him. “What?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing.”
Dream whines, closing his strong thighs around George’s hand when the alpha prods at his dripping hole. The brunet raises his brow in question, examining the way his omega is desperately trying to make his point and keep his thighs pressed together despite the touch remaining against his rim. It flutters at George’s touch, and he knows that the blond’s composer is fragile.
“Tell me,” It comes out of the blond’s mouth like a breath, airy and light, his voice higher and sweeter than the mint cloudling George’s head.
“You look good like this, all flustered.” George retreats his touch, letting his honesty fill the air between them. “I feel like I tell you that every time you go into heat, but it’s true.”
Dream beams, his hand dropping to rest on the back of George's neck, “I like hearing it.”
George rolls his eyes playfully, leaning up to press a gentle kiss on his partner’s lips. The kiss is quick and innocent before he’s talking against the omega’s lips. “You’re very pretty.”
The thighs that once clamped around his hand weaken their hold, allowing George to press his fingertip to where the omega drips from. His finger is soon engulfed in heat, placing sweet affection along Dream’s jaw as he pushes deeper. A breathy moan hits his ear, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end in retaliation. Slick drips around his fingers, his tongue licking over the mating mark he plans to darken.
“So lovely.” He whispers before he traps the blond’s scent gland between his sharp teeth.
Dream groans, pushing his hips up in hopes of getting the finger deeper. He gets what he wants, the final knuckle sinking past the heat-ridden omega’s rim, greeting George with a chorus of whines. Where he bites he sucks, lashing his tongue over sensitive skin until Dream is tugging at his hair in a request for another finger, another hand on him, a harsher bite.
George fills every request, slipping his second finger into the needy man beneath him and twisting them once inside. The blond sputters, his neglected cock jumping against the alpha's clothed stomach. Almost as if the sensation of George’s shirt is the source of discomfort, Dream begins to tear it away, both hands reaching for the hem to work it off of the brunet. With a quick laugh, George pulls himself up, letting the shirt be removed properly before returning his busy hands to the omega’s skin.
Slick has begun to pool under the omega, dripping when his hips rise to meet George’s gentle kiss. Sweet pecks left at the tops of thighs, this is his favorite part of his mate. Where the thick muscle and fat of his leg meet his wide hips, George spends extra time kissing adoration onto sun-kissed skin.
Pretty freckles atop pretty thighs, shuddering when George dips his head between them to peck at sensitive skin. He’ll soon have them wrapped around his head, listening to the muffled moans as he brings the omega to a beautiful climax— but, before he does that, he wants to ensure that the blond feels as beautiful as he looks. He does so by running slow hands over gold, teasing his omega with bites along his inner thighs, avoiding the glands at all cost. That is, of course, until Dream whines extra loud.
“George….”
He smiles to himself before nudging at the gland with his nose, breathing in the scent of mint and allowing it to muddy his mind. When he kisses it he’s slow, two fingers pressed against his omega’s rim. Dream is trying to get them inside, his hips rotating with hope. Every time he finds a way to get them in, George stops pressing and the possibility is ruined.
Once the omega gives up, his hips falling back down onto the sofa, George allows his fingers to slip back inside. Slick dripping down his hand as his tongue is busy toying with the gland caught by his teeth. Dream is sputtering, one hand gripping at the brunet’s hair, the other threaded through his own as his back arches so sweetly. It’s invigorating, reducing a man as large as Dream is to a muttering mess.
George thinks that’s the best part of the omega being so unusually tall and muscular. The way his beautiful thighs are shaking at the attention he is receiving, how his mouth hangs open and releases lovely moans into the air that houses amber and mint. His omega is ethereal, accepting any sort of attention that is offered to him. Dream looks so small beneath him, brittle, fragile, pliable .
An omega’s heat is important for many reasons. Not only is it necessary for mating, but it allows an omega and an alpha to bond. Always ensuring that he’s around for the blond to rely on has strengthened their trust in one another. When the pair first met Dream was shy, always hiding when the heat coursing through his veins got too hot, afraid of bothering George with something neither of them could control. It took many years for the omega to finally be this comfortable, spreading his legs wide in hopes of guiding George's mouth further up his thigh.
He doesn’t budge, though. Marking up freckled skin with bruises left undeveloped. They will turn purple later, splotches of mulberry upon gold, if any other alpha has the pleasure of seeing the marks it would be known that this particular omega has an alpha that loves him. Dream’s thigh flexes against George’s palm when the brunet’s fingers brush over his prostate, a slew of whines and pleas tumbling from his tongue.
“George!” The blond gasps the name, a third finger pushing inside of him.
With careful calculation George twists and curls his fingers, opening his omega with ease. The blond is so needy, wiggling beneath him, persistently attempting to guide George’s mouth to his stretching rim. When the alpha gives in it’s after a well-fought battle.
He begins by licking around where his fingers are buried, swallowing the sweet syrupy slick that has dribbled out. No sooner does he remove his fingers are thighs pressed against his ears. His tongue is pushed past the rim, drinking in every ounce of slick that isn’t spread across his face or dripping down his chin. His omega tastes so sweet, almost as refreshing as a tall glass of water.
Crisp mint on his tastebuds, he licks circles along the inside of his partner’s rim, listening to Dream’s pleasured song as it begins to play. His moans are saccharine, stifled by the pretty thighs that are clamped around George's head. They are secure and powerful, so plush and homey that George could fall asleep between them easily. Between the omega’s thighs is a wonderful place to be.
George pushes his tongue deeper, guiding the blond's hips with strong hands to grind down on the intrusion. Dream is quick to comply, one hand still laced in hazelnut, the other gripping tightly at one of the palms bruising his hips. His song gets louder the harder he grinds, breathier when George swirls his tongue inside of him, muffled as the hand in his hair pulls away to cover his mouth.
And the thighs around his head tighten their hold, George is certain that if he suffocates between them then he will go out in his happy place, a smile on his face. He can feel himself struggling against the fabric of his jeans, the blond's feet pushing into his back, trying to get him deeper as he grinds and whimpers. With Dream fucking himself on George’s tongue the brunet finds himself subconsciously grinding against the couch cushion.
The fluttering feeling has risen into his chest and up his throat, a low growl slipping past his tongue. The growl is a surprise, vibrating in his sternum as his fingers grip harder onto his partner’s hips. Such an animalistic behavior, growling. George knows that his throat makes the noise in response to two situations; his territory being threatened, and rut. Despite the knowledge, the alpha is too wrapped up in the pretty tune of his lover's pleasure to recognize it for what it is.
“Want you, want you, want you.” The blond echos himself subconsciously, over and over until George pulls his tongue out from where it was planted. “Please, I need you.”
When the alpha sits on his knees to unbutton his jeans the blond is quick to help, long fingers darting for the zipper. Dream’s touch is too warm, melting George at a moment's notice. He lets his partner free his cock, wrapping his fist around it, precum immediately dribbling out of the tip.
“Careful, my love.” George whispers through a groan, “You’ll get it, just be patient.”
Dream nods slowly, emerald clouded by lust meeting coffee irises as he puckers his lips in request for a kiss. A quiet laugh rattles in George’s chest as he shakes his head, pressing his palms into the cushion whilst he leans down to kiss his needy omega softly. The slick still sticking to his lips is kissed away, letting the omega guide his tip to the rim he has diligently worked open.
What George lacks in height he makes up for with the girth and length of his cock, as well as the size of his knot. He has often in the past reduced his mate to tears, that was until he learned that the extra few minutes of prep make things much easier. It’s slow when Dream takes him in, their mouths dropping open in unison. His omega’s warm hole sucks him in down to the hilt, stretching Dream wider to take it all.
The blond's cheek is pressed to his once again, rubbing back and forth slowly, facial hair dragging on facial hair. It’s scratchy but beyond comforting to not only Dream but George as well. Any other alpha would be concerned by this reaction, however, it only shows George that his presence is what the omega truly wants.
Heat makes every omega crazy with lust, even his own mate. But sometimes, even at the peak of his cycle, Dream only wants closeness. George allows their chests to rest against one another, their cheekbones mixing the scent of amber and mint in the most intoxicating ways.
The tightness of his partner is unworldly, wrapped around George’s cock like the perfect glove. It makes him throb, hungry for friction and the whines he can pull from the man beneath him. Yet, he remains, nuzzling into his partner's cheek and smiling when the blond laughs. It’s such a sweet symphony, his partner’s joy. A lovely melody he could listen to for hours.
When George realized he was in love with Dream it was when the blond had truly laughed for the first time. The tea kettle came to life and the blond wheezed at such a stupid joke the brunet can’t even remember. All the memory holds is the laughter, and the feeling of his heart growing in size. It swelled up much larger that day, and his mind filled with nothing but Dream .
Sweet Dream, lovely Dream, pretty and unforgettable Dream.
The blond buries his face into George’s neck where he kisses enchantingly, arms wrapped around the alpha's waist loosely. George only pushes himself up partially, their chests no longer pressed together as the blond nips at his scent gland.
“You’re pretty, too.” Dream whispers against his neck. “I feel so safe with you.”
His words make red roses bloom in George’s cheeks, loving kisses left along his collar until lips rise to his scent gland once more. Teeth graze his skin and George can feel himself beginning to crumble.
“You’re going to take care of me?” The blond asks before another kiss is pressed to the sensitive spot.
“Of course I am.” George smiles, bringing one hand up to lace in the sweaty blond hair at the back of his partner's head.
Dream hums softly in response, sucking the gland into his mouth to darken the marks he has left to claim the alpha as his own. The feeling is mind-numbing, causing his hips to press harder to the ones he has pinned to the cushion. However, that is what Dream wants, and he knows that. The teeth sinking into his sensitive spot are heavenly, encouraging him to pull nearly all the way out and then guide himself back inside.
“Fuck,” The alpha groans, tightening his hold on the hair of his lover.
Teeth and tongue bruising his skin, George thrusts harder into the heat-stricken omega. Thick thighs tighten around his waist, guiding him to dive deeper as Dream whimpers against his neck. The sound is hushed but still pretty, fueling his need for more. More whines, more moans, more bruises, and more slick dripping down his thighs.
Taking care of his mate is something George adores, whether that be feeding him soup when he’s sick or bathing him after they were too rough with one another- George has always found that being the person to heal the man beneath him is his favorite person to be. When Dream asks less than politely for the alpha to be rougher, he complies, giving the man anything that he could possibly need or want because that is not only what he’s meant to do but also what he craves.
He enjoys the sounds he can make fall from his partner's lips, his ego soaking up every muffled moan buried in his neck until lips drop away from kiss-bitten skin. Dream is looking up at him, eyes wide and doe-like, his mouth agape as the thrusts get rougher.
“Want your knot.” The blond announces shamelessly, biting down on his bottom lip as shaky fingers trace a familiar pattern down George’s spine. “I can have it, right?”
George nods, leaning his forehead down to press against his omega’s for a brief moment. “You can have anything you want, baby.”
He presses his hips against his omegas, holding him tightly in place as he turns them over. With Dream above him, he relaxes into the cushions, slick sticking to his bare thighs as it spills out around his cock. The sensation makes him moan under his breath, palms squeezing the thighs that cage his hips.
“Go on, get what you want.” The alpha smiles up at his mate, encouraging him with a gentle shift of his own hips.
Dream looks so much bigger when he isn’t being fucked into the sofa, towering over George to use his cock in any way he would like. The brunet will let him ride as long as he needs to, so long as he can grip at the plush of his upper thighs.
Where his fingers meet skin he leaves harsh white lines from a tight hold, the fat of Dream’s thighs puffing up around his grip. The muscle beneath his hands tense just as the blond begins his grinding. He has the omega like this regularly, allowing him free range of what he desires. With soft touches and sweet words, George can typically coax him over the edge whilst the blond fucks himself on his cock.
It’s lovely, watching Dream bring himself closer and closer on his own accord, truly. However, when a palm larger than his guides his hand to trap the omega's cock against George’s stomach the alpha is more than willing to participate. The head is a bright red, neglected when George focused on Dream’s rim and thighs. Though it’s smaller than the alpha's cock it is prettier and pinker, soft, and easily handled with gentle tugs.
There are no tugs, now, though. George allows the blond to thrust into his fist at his own pace as he grinds. The only addition he makes to the motion is to swipe his thumb over the head to wipe away pre-cum as it develops. With watchful eyes, he examines his mate, how his mouth never truly shuts— drool dripping from the corner whilst he rides at his own slow pace.
Sharp nails are scratching at George’s stomach, attempting to find leverage in porcelain skin. Another growl slips out of George’s mouth, it’s low and inaudible with the loud moans that crack Dream’s throat. Red trails are left down his sides from where his omega has clawed at him, the feeling of his nails making George’s head swim.
“Are you going to cum for me, darling?” George asks, his breathing uneven as he is fighting off his own climax.
His only answer is a quick nod and the omegas pace quickens. George wonders how close his partner is, tightening his fist around the cock it holds each time Dream pulls away. The grip is calculated, and meticulous, ensuring he guides his omega to the edge as quickly as possible before he can even think about knotting.
“Come on, Dream.” He teases him. “Don’t you want my knot?”
“Please,” Dream moans at the words, grinding down harder, consequently thrusting into George’s fist with more intent. “Need it.”
“Then cum.” The bite in his tone is playful, smiling to himself when Dream nods his head quickly and his mouth falls open again.
Milky white strings are shot out over George’s bare chest, nails digging into his sides as Dream keeps his pace steady through his orgasm. The blond tightens around him, his prostates at the tip of George’s cock, rubbing against it furiously. His moans are loud and world-shaking, filling up every crack and crevice in George’s skull.
“K-Knot, please.” He begs, upholding the force in which his hips move.
When George doesn’t swell up at the request the blond leans down, biting at his jaw with muffled pleas. He’s so lovely, begging and whimpering through the overstimulation of George deep inside of him, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. Teeth greet his scent gland once more and George can smell himself. Thick amber and cedar, fuzed in the air as if this was the moment his rut had been triggered and forced into its peak.
It’s not uncommon, Dream had triggered many early ruts in the past with the same action. He can feel his partner's grin, the scent surely exciting him all over again. There's something in the way that the cedar affects Dream, turning his typical docile behavior into something more ferocious and determined.
“Breed me.” Dream suggests as less of a request and more so a demand. “Breed me, now.”
With that George’s hands return to the wide hips of his omega, guiding him up then back down. Dream’s cock slaps against Geroge’s stomach each time he’s lowered and George is certain that if that motion continues he will eventually have another pool of cum on his skin. Therefore, he helps his partner to fall harder. His cock assaults his omega’s prostate each time their hips connect, only for the heat-stricken omega to be raised and allowed to fall back down.
It doesn’t take long for sharp whines and whimpers to become loud moans once more, a growl building in George’s chest at the sound. Pretty moans in his ear that fuel the fire beneath his navel, it grows louder and hotter each time the omega is dropped on the brunet’s cock. The more slick that drips down his balls the more uncontrollable he becomes, using the omega for his own pleasure. Dream encourages him with moan strangled pleas to be bred.
“Want-...Please I-...” That is all he can make out from the mess of words leaving his partner.
Once more he has reduced the man to nothing more than a hole that needs his knot. Dribbles of cum drip over his stomach to join the pools already dotting his skin and finally George holds his mate still, filling him up with cum as his knot swells and they are stuck together.
Dream whines at the sensation, his shaky palms coming to rest over George’s. He’s tense for a long time, adjusting to the knot that is held just behind his rim before he lets himself relax completely into his alpha. The brunet holds him tightly to his chest, wrapping arms around him until the blond sleepily complies and nuzzles into his neck. A soft sigh is breathed against his skin.
“Do you think it worked?” Dream asks quietly, his words slurring.
The alpha shrugs, kissing the side of his omega’s head. “I’m not sure, it didn’t work the last time you triggered my rut.”
The blond huffs a soft laugh, “You were in rut this morning, I could smell it on you.”
He thinks back to how Dream had clung to him this morning, how he had given in to the omega’s heat without much of a fight. George had fucked him back to sleep, dressing his tired body in the warmest of clothing before locking every window. At the time he didn’t think about it, instinctually protecting his mate in the only way he knew how. By blanketing him in the scent of amber and cedar, locking him in the safety of their home, and setting the alarm so it triggers if anyone so much as walks onto the edge of their property.
George was so wrapped up in the stress of his job and ensuring his mate was taken care of that he didn’t notice the cedar leaking into the air or how his knot took longer to deflate this morning.
“You need to pay more attention to yourself, love.” Dream mutters, his fingers tracing over the red scratches left on George’s side.
It’s the truth, and he knows it. Running the back of his fingers down his omega’s arm slowly, touching over the bruises he left this morning. His grip was strong, pretty mauve fingerprints tainting golden skin as he pinned the blond to their mattress.
“If it doesn't work we can try again.” George presses another kiss to his omega’s shoulder.
“I just want…” Dream trails off, letting out a sleepy breath before shifting to rub his cheek against George’s. “A family.”
The alpha smiles to himself, “I know, give it time.”
Another nod, another series of gentle cheek rubs, then Dream is asleep and clinging to him. The brunet doesn’t move, allowing himself to relax entirely into the subconscious affection his omega gives him any time he stirs in search of comfort. He lays awake, the sun sinking past the horizon before his eyes fall shut.