the pleading did something to him. spiked his arousal, if it even could grow any higher. growls clawed out his chest. "patience." in his own brand of archaic thinking, the elf knew not to go too fast. especially not with the inexperienced. poor thing was already overwhelmed as it was. he wasn't looking to shut charles down that early.

hand brushed over the other's lean form, letting his fingers do the work of tracing skin before his tongue eventually would.

charles would learn what kind of alpha he was. a little window into him that he could glimpse into. amaridin well, assumed that the feline would have already surmised that he wasn’t of this time at the very least. with the way he spoke and carried himself. the elf knew things were different here now, just as there were also differences between societies in the past.

the other's eagerness appreciated, even if coloured with shyness. it was endearing. but there was also that thrill of being able to take an omega's virginity. it might be a little cruel to slow down with how needy the other seemed. but if he was being truthful, it was as much for him as for the omega; he feared what he would do if he'd been given free reign over charles — something he basically already had — that he couldn't control the alpha within himself, that he'd end up ravaging the other, that he'd break him.

the hand on his thigh, on his scarred skin. eyes kept their red as they looked at each other. breath coming in short pants as he returned to kissing the omega once again, swapping saliva, teeth pulling lightly at the other’s lip; not hard enough to break skin, he was being careful, like charles was a fragile thing. slotting his tongue between the other again as he turned the kiss heated.

ainor, he was so fucking hard.

his nostrils, his very lungs chockful of charles’ smell, as if they would burn him like sulphur from a forge. even amaridin's own patience would run out eventually. his hands were already under the cheetah’s shirt, lifting it higher; the next natural progression was to tug it off.

"yaulë." again, his lips left the temple of charles' face. he had other places to worship. amaridin didn't take his time but he wasn't particularly hurried either. kissing his way down the man's frame, his clavicle, his chest, his nipple, his stomach, the base of his belly, below the belly button.

maybe  he  was  fragile.

a  fragile  little  thing  that  might  break  upon  touch,  upon  receiving  what  he  had  craved  so  horrendously  for  so  many  years.  maybe  he  was  vastly  underprepared  for  what  was  to  come.  maybe  he  wasn’t  even  meant  to  be  here  at  all,  caged  against  the  very  pillows  he  called  his  bed  for  the  night  with  a  strong,  devastatingly  handsome  alpha  hovering  above  him.

but  he  was  here  now.  and  here,  he  felt  he  belonged.  whether  that  was  the  heat  speaking  or  his  truest  self,  he  didn’t  know—and,  truth  be  told,  he  didn’t  care.  it  didn’t  matter.  amaridin,  his  strong,  beautiful  elven  knight,  had  found  him  and  charles  wouldn’t  give  that  up  for  anything  in  the  world.

even  if  he  had  no  idea  what  he  was  doing.  that  thought  brought  back  the  usual,  crippling  anxiety—his  constant  fear  that,  as  always,  he  would  come  up  lacking,  that  he  would  end  up  disappointing  his  maybe-but-probably-not-really-future-alpha.  as  if  he'd  want  anything  to  do  with  him  post  heat.  he  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  please  him,  to  give  back  as  much  as  he  received,  but  he  wasn’t  sure  how.  his  fingers  tightened  faintly  on  the  elf’s  thigh—not  reassurance,  exactly,  but  a  soft,  desperate  i’m  here,  and  i’m  trying.

his  other  hand  hovered  uselessly  in  the  air  for  a  moment,  as  though  it  might  find  something  clever  to  do,  before  awkwardly  landing  against  the  elf’s  side.  he  gave  a  tiny  squeeze,  far  too  cautious,  then  quickly  second-guessed  himself  and  smoothed  his  palm  down  like  that  might  cover  the  clumsy  gesture.  still,  when  amaridin  kissed  him  again—deeper  than  before—charles  clung  back  with  something  almost  desperate,  gasping  when  their  mouths  parted.

he  had  never  thought  he’d  feel  another  person’s  hands  against  his  skin—never  truly  understood  what  that  would  mean  beyond  his  own  imagination,  which  had  failed  him  miserably.  amaridin’s  palms  burned  warmth  into  him,  sparks  that  sent  even  more  of  his  blood  rushing  south,  though  charles  hadn’t  thought  that  possible  at  this  point.  in  a  nervous  bid  to  respond  in  kind,  he  let  his  fingertips  trace  upward  over  the  elf’s  ribs,  only  to  chicken  out  halfway  and  retreat  to  the  safer  territory  of  his  shoulder.  idiot,  he  thought,  but  amaridin  didn’t  pull  away,  so  maybe  it  wasn’t  too  awful.

he  felt  the  alpha’s  length  pressing  against  his  hip—or  his  leg,  he  couldn’t  quite  recall—but  the  knowledge  that  he  had  caused  that,  even  in  the  smallest  way,  filled  him  with  a  pride  he  hadn’t  known  he  could  feel.  maybe  he  wasn’t  completely  undesirable.  maybe.  but  the  moment  his  shirt  was  stripped  away,  that  fragile  pride  faltered,  dimmed  quickly  into  something  smaller.

his  eyes  betrayed  him,  darting  downward  to  compare  himself—his  own  pale,  fragile  frame  against  the  elf’s  sun-kissed,  sculpted  beauty.  who  wouldn’t  wince  at  the  sight?  he  certainly  did.  his  hands  twitched,  unsure  of  where  to  go,  finally  retreating  back  to  fist  at  the  sheets  instead  of  fumbling  further.  and  yet  the  alpha  didn’t  seem  to  mind  at  all.  maybe  he  was  dreaming.  maybe  he  had  passed  out  on  the  couch  waiting  for  dinner,  lulled  into  this  feverish  fantasy  by  the  alpha’s  scent  filling  the  living  room.  because  truthfully,  the  sight  of  amaridin  pressing  tender  kisses  down  his  body  felt  so  impossibly  surreal  that  surrender  was  the  only  option.  still,  his  hips  arched  upward  to  meet  each  touch,  gasps  and  soft  moans  breaking  free  regardless.

a  shudder  wracked  the  feline’s  body  when  the  elf’s  lips  brushed  the  top  of  his  waistband.  his  jaw  locked  as  their  eyes  met  once  more,  sweat  dripping  down  his  temples,  hair  damp  and  sticking  to  his  forehead.  his  hand  lifted  clumsily  toward  amaridin’s  face—hesitated—then  instead  ended  up  curling  against  his  shoulder  again,  fingertips  digging  in  lightly  just  to  anchor  himself.  it  was  fortunate  amaridin  looked  at  him  when  he  asked  the  question,  because  charles’  brain  had  lost  all  connection  to  his  mouth.  his  lips  stayed  parted,  helplessly  silent,  even  as  his  head  tipped  in  a  desperate  nod.

yes,  you  may.

please,  god,  you  may.

the  elf’s  words  rang  in  his  ears,  though  he  couldn’t  understand  them.  couldn’t  know  how  deeply  they  would  cut  if  he  knew  their  true  meaning.  as  they  were,  they  only  deepened  his  certainty  that  elven  was  the  most  beautiful  language  he  had  ever  heard.  maybe  because  no  one  had  ever  spoken  another  language  to  him  like  this  before.  maybe  because  of  amaridin’s  breathtaking  presence.  or  maybe  because  it  simply  was.

“y-yes,”  he  croaked  eventually,  voice  trembling  with  nerves  and  need  alike.  with  every  nerve  ending  on  fire  and  his  brain  reduced  to  chaos,  charles  hardly  registered  the  sweatpants  being  tugged  away—hardly  noticed  until  they  were  gone.  what  remained  was  a  short,  somewhat  loose  pair  of  boxer  briefs,  no  better  off  than  what  had  been  stripped  away.

an omega beneath him.

how no one had snatched him up yet, swept him off his feet and treated him right was beyond the elf's understanding. perhaps it was the lack of any form of social interaction charles seem to have had, not enough to form any sort of connection. amaridin himself barely knew the cheetah and the other probably did not know a thing about him aside from the obvious.

kiss heated, kiss deepened. tongue pressing forward, as he secured entry, as he led. claiming charles' mouth with an eagerness that was reciprocated. tongue exploring, mingling with the other's own. put himself in charge of the flow as he steered them both. not letting charles fall behind in his innocence, one that amaridin was happy to take. moaning as he pressed forward. mine. mine. mine. rattling in amaridin's brain. thought unbidden. ones he shouldn't have, not when he'd just met the omega. he should be more civilised than this. even if he had come from a time long since past. this ought to just have been pheromones and taking responsibility for causing a heat... and yet. the alpha elf couldn't help but feel a pull towards the cheetah that seemed to be more that just that. a deeper want bubbling from under the surface.

a hand over the other's then, having moved from holding his chin. firm as he grasped on them and guided them to the base of his shirt. amaridin pulled back from the kiss. tongue snaking out. breath heated as he caught it. “harma-idriya.” whispered against his lips. another kiss given, this one much shorter but no less passionate. the elf pulled back further, far enough to give himself the space to cross his arms and tug his shirt over his head and clean off. revealing his sweat-slicked, scar riddled body. chest and body firm with hard muscle and dusted with a light but healthy amount of red hair. the same could be said for his armpits, teased with the earlier action of removing his henley but now hidden from view. shirt then tossed unceremoniously to the side, but not too far and not violently either.

looking down on the omega below him. their scents mixing. and yet, all amaridin could really pinpoint was still all charles. his heat scent. his arousal. his slick scent. cutting through everything. hand on the cheetah's cheek, the elf went back down, this time not for a kiss. at least not on his lips. amaridin went for the other's scuffy jaw, (the one he wasn't holding), lips and tongue meeting flesh and hair. kissing, biting his way down to the man's neck — not hard enough to break skin, and nothing as serious as mate's mark; something he wouldn't inflict on an omega this soon... no matter how much his inner alpha was calling, yearning for it. he had over two hundred years of waiting. it's time. it's time. a chant in the back of his mind. it was something to be discussed, something bestowed after courting and a development of a relationship. not just heat or rut induced. the attraction certainly was there.

this  was  what  he  always  dreamt  of,  what  he  always  wrote  of  -  only  up  until  right  now,  he  didn't  really  know...  did  he?  imagination  sure  did  a  lot  to  make  up  for  a  lack  of  experience,  but  ...  no  amount  of  reading,  no  amount  of  writing  ...  none  of  that  could  really  grasp  what  it  felt  like  to  be  held,  to  be  kissed..  for  another  person's  warmth  to  entwine  with  your  own.  everything  he  wrote  was  ...  lacking.  it  was  insufficient.  he  knew  that  now,  he  felt  it  now  -  right  in  that  moment.  when  tongues  mingled  &  breath  was  shared,  soft  careful  noises  caught  amidst  harsh,  panted  breaths.  heat  was  demanding  its  tribute  &  soon.  now  that  the  floodgates  had  been  opened,  it  washed  over  him  fiercely,  mercilessly  &  more  intensely  than  he  could  remember  it  to  ever  have.

he  wanted  more,  but  not  only  because  his  body  asked  for  it.  the  moment  he'd  found  himself  in  the  elf's  strong  arms  at  the  store,  imagination  had  run  wild.  he'd  assumed  he'd  stumble  home  &  write  a  series  on  what  ifs  -  as  he  usually  did,  but  not  in  a  million  years  did  he  expect  to  be  in  it.  a  light  tremble  rocked  his  body,  the  same  that  arched  up  into  the  elf  when  he  pulled  away  from  the  kiss  -  yearning  to  feel  the  alpha's  lips  against  his  own  again.  found  &  lost.  quick  breath  sucked  in  when  he  pulled  away,  fingers  reaching  out  to  clasp  at  a  thigh,  but  the  alpha  wasn't  leaving,  was  he?

he  was  not.

&  that  brought  the  hint  of  a  smile  on  the  feline's  lips,  barely  curved  &  yet  far  from  the  more  common  downwards  tilt  they  did  because  charles  went  through  life  sad  &  afraid.  if  not  for  the  heat-induced  ...  who  was  he  kidding,  his  heat  barely  had  influenced  his  level  of  desperation.  he'd  be  ogling  the  alpha's  impressive  form  regardless  -  heat  or  not.  every  scar  told  a  story.  charles  wondered  if  he'd  ever  get  to  hear  some  of  them;  learn  the  truth  behind  them,  learn  ...  the  kind  of  man  the  alpha  truly  was.  but  not  now.  hand  lifted,  fingers  stretched  out  to  gently  brush  over  a  scar  further  down,  where  he  could  reach,  his  own  fingers  cold  -  nervous  &  worried,  while  the  alpha's  body  was  warm  &  inviting.

his  eyes  never  left  amaridin's  face,  always  watching  even  if  ...  eyes  averted  meeting  the  man's,  embarrassed  &  shy,  or  maybe  he  was  just  self-conscious  &  worried  about  whether  or  not  he'd  like  what  he  saw  on  his  face.  thankfully  he  wouldn't  find  out  for  a  while  longer.  with  the  alpha  back  down  in  his  vicinity,  charles  ...  felt  calmer  already,  though  more  nervous  at  the  same  time.  brain,  please  shut  up  for  five  seconds.  able  to  still  taste  the  elf  on  his  lips,  he  yearned  for  their  lips  to  meet  again,  but  the  alternative  ...  was  good,  too.  better  even,  maybe.  he  couldn't  quite  tell.  heart  hammering  in  his  chest,  with  his  lips  unoccupied,  amaridin  got  all  the  soft  sounds  formerly  held  back  by  his  own  lips.

pants  &  breaths,  but  more  importantly,  a  fine  variation  of  very,  very  careful  moans.  oh,  he  wanted  those  teeth  in  his  neck  no  doubt.  it's  time.  he's  waited  all  his  life.  it's  time.  hasn't  he  waited  enough?  but  blame  would  not  be  imposed  on  the  alpha  for  he  knew  the  decision  was  not  made  lightly,  regardless  of  what  charles  wished  for.  but  he  ...felt  it  too,  right?  it  wasn't  just  the  feline  who  felt  ...this  ...something  between  them,  right?

the  thing  was,  when  amaridin  leaned  in  to  sniff  at  his  neck,  charles  got  to  do  the  same  &  a  kitten's  nose  getting  a  full  whiff  of  alpha  surely  did  the  trick.  if  pants  hadn't  been  drenched  yet,  they  would  be  now.  if  his  face  hadn't  been  flushed  yet,  it  would  be  now.  the  alpha's  calloused  hands  brushing  over  pale,  unblemished  skin  did  only  intensify  the  need  he  felt  -  body  craning  up  into  amaridin's  every  touch  with  a  need  that  was  unmatched.  "please."

still, those rules were very much present within him, flexible and currently bending to the point of breaking at this current juncture. the lure was very much present and working. ambrosial scent all but making him wrestle with his control. if he sank his teeth in it, that would have made him no better than the alphas on the street prowling for a helpless and hapless omega — the very same one he deterred and detoured on their journey here.

and then that breathless word. as close as permission granted, no, gifted to him. begged him for. resplendent honey gold eyes was the final straw on the camel's back. pleading eyes staring into his own, and causing a biological and chemical reaction in them; mirroring gold with crimson maroon. hand guided to the other's chest, feeling the messy rhythm of his heart. like time had slowed around them and all the elf could hear was the beating of the omega's heart about to burst intermingling with his gasping breaths.

it was in that moment the course of action was decided. almost as if predetermined since charles first crashed into amaridin what felt like a lifetime ago.

the alpha would devour him whole.

he would show him just how much he was desired in that very moment. have his feast as was his right to do so. repression unleashed, dam broken. using his strength and the hand on the omega's chest as leverage to push him back first into the couch. one foot remained on the floor, the other leg lifted off it and went across the cheetah to rest in a kneeling position, pressed into the cushion. while the elf leaned in over the omega, a hand on the head of the couch to stabilise, broad shoulders bracketing the other in. leaving plenty of room to move, away too if necessary; in case charles changed his mind and wanted to back out.

or  he  into  theirs.

courting  was  for  dreamers,  flirting  for  idiots  &  dating  for  the  mentally  insane.  maybe  ..he  was  all  three,  but  no  more.  at  his  point  in  time  -  at  this  point  in  ...  well,  of  desperation,  charles  just  wanted  to  not  feel  alone  &  undesirable  ...even  if  only  for  five  minutes.  or  ...however  long  it  would  take  to  ....  well.  it  wasn't  even  that  he  could  hide  a  lack  of  experience,  because  his  very  own  body's  scent  gave  it  away  -  a  secret  shared  with  the  goddamn  world  for  free,  to  add  salt  to  the  wound.

because  it  wasn't  humiliating  enough  to  be  a  forty  (ish)  year  old  virgin,  apparently  -  no.  the  entire  world  had  to  know,  too.  he  was  just  to  tired  of  feeling  the  way  he  did.  he  wanted  to  be  held  &  touched,  even  if  just  ...  tonight.  it  didn't  matter,  he'd  deal  with  his  heart  later.  but  he  couldn't  even  achieve  that;  his  body  burning  bright  &  hot  with  unyielding  desire.  he  didn't  know  what  else  to  do.  if  this  wasn't  enough  to  interest  the  alpha  in  him,  then...

well,  he  was  maybe  meant  to  die  like  this.

which,  honestly,  would  be  a  lot  less  surprising  than  one  may  thing,  but  he  still  hoped  -  clutching  that  strong,  calloused  hand  to  his  chest  like  it  held  the  answer  to  every  question,  which  -  in  fact,  it  seemed  to  do.  leverage  used  against  him,  he  found  himself  on  his  back  with  a  broad  alpha  on  top  of  him,  his  eyes  bright  in  response  to  his  own,  his  scent  filling  his  lungs  even  more  than  before,  air  replaced  with  scent.  no  escape  -  not  that  he  wanted  to.  gazes  locked,  lips  ajar  while  breaths  rattled  through  him.  waiting,  watching  ...wondering.

his  words...  fall  on  deaf  ears  in  a  way,  unbelieving  &  stubborn  in  their  own  self-destructive  ways.  he  couldn't  possibly  mean  it.  no  way  did  he  mean  it.  he  probably  just  felt  bad  because  of  how  pathetic  you  are.  but  it  didn't  matter,  because  when  charles'  lips  were  met  with  the  other's,  nothing  else  really  mattered.  in  that  moment,  there  was  just  the  two  of  them  &  nobody  else  could  possibly  come  between  them.  not  even  himself.

what was the bother was something else entirely. the scent. slick (no doubt already soaking into the very couch they were seated in). arousal. desire. ripeness. it felt like it was overpowering everything else. clouding his thoughts. searing heat radiated from the other. completely unlike one of a forge but just as fiery. burning through his defences. all that combined made for a stuffy environment that didn't feel too pleasant if he wasn't going to act on them. worse still, the elf feared that if he touched charles, he wouldn't be able to stop. not touching the omega had nothing to do with the other being undesirable but rather too desirable. in all his years, control hadn't slipped from him before. there were few close moments, where he'd been caught on a knife's edge but he'd never crossed his own arbitrary lines before. they'd say he was justified, the omega was ripe for the taking. but for amaridin, explicit consent was the least he could afford them in their pheromone-induced state of lust. he wasn't about to shatter all his rules now. however different charles might be.

amaridin had eaten his own meal from his plate, the contents of which was something he was used to, nothing extravagant; certainly less hurried than the other. not that he could really concentrate on his food — and so set it down on table, leaving it mostly finished — with all the sinful noises happening mere inches beside him. the context was different, and yet muddied by their current state of being. the elf, well, he would be lying if he said he could not imagine charles making more of those noises under different circumstances. not to mention, there was a certain tastier meal to be had right next to him, leaning against him. one that smelled heavenly, delectable. hand on his thigh not unnoticed. gods grant him strength. but... maybe his desires and his sense of chivalry did not have to be discordant.

after all...

he  didn't  have  the  words  he  needed  -  not  like  this,  not  when...  when...  he  was  here  with  him,  tall  &  strong,  so  undeniably  handsome  &  kind,  too.  charles'  very  own  fantasy  prince.  not  that  he  was  charles'  per  se,  just  ...  he...  was  here  right  now.  the  feline  just  wondered  why  he  didn't  act  when  he  did  his  damndest  to  get  his  attention.  to  lure  him  in  like  his  kind  was  supposed  to.  wasn't  this  why  all  this  happened?  heats,  slick  &  scents?  shouldn't  he  smell  like  the  elf's  favorite  thing  in  the  world  right  now  so  that  he  couldn't  withstand?  was  he  ...broken?  was  that  why  it  didn't  work?  hand  tightened  on  the  alpha's  thigh,  body  shaking  with  effort,  because  with  every  passing  minute,  charles'  body  spiraled  down  further,  small  portion  of  himself  slowly  fading  &  making  way  for  lust  &  despair,  because  at  the  end  of  the  day  that  would  be  all  that  was  left  of  him.

you're  allowed  to  ask.

it  wasn't  so  much  the  asking  that  posed  the  problem,  it  was  the  implication  given  a  positive  answer  occurred,  because  if  he  had  to  ask  to  be  held  then...  it  wasn't  true,  was  it?  he...  wanted  to  be  wanted.  he  wanted  the  alpha  to  take  what  he  wanted,  because  honestly?  how  much  more  obvious  could  charles  be?  should  he  tear  off  his  clothes  &  bend  over  the  next  best  surface?  this...  wasn't  what  he  wanted.  he  wanted  to  be  courted,  won  over,  ...desired.  yes,  he  knew  that  was  ...  likely  not  going  to  happen  to  him,  so  maybe  he  had  to  drop  that  fantasy.  maybe  he  should  take  what  he  could  get  so  that  ...  at  least  he  wouldn't  die  with  any  more  regrets  than  necessary  ......right?

"p-please."

and the omega, upon hearing his words, returned to the kitchen. but not for long. he hightailed out of the area and began clearing the coffee table (like it was something he was compelled to do) that was in front of a couch — one that had obviously been turned into a bed, and probably saw more use than an actual bed. the movement was frantic and surely uncomfortable considering charles' predicament at the moment. amaridin would have helped him but he didn't want to touch the cheetah's most treasured items. nor would his presence do more good than harm. as such the elf resigned himself to watching as the omega complete his task, finding himself getting uncomfortable in the process.

if he thought the smell was stronger when the cheetah came back down... he severely misunderstood just how pungent it could get now that he was closer. his senses were being assaulted by it. charles was just positively dripping, soaking through his sweatpants. amaridin's eyes couldn't help but wandered inappropriately, latching onto that damp spot that was steady increasing in size. úpuhta.

he was being tested. by his gods. his resolve was being challenged. like temptation of the sweetest kind to ravage this cat, defile him in his own home. but it would have felt exploitative of the other's natural biology.

and then the other asked him to sit with him, beside him on... a makeshift bed that would almost certainly be chockful of the omega's scent. the alpha had envisioned charles on the chair in the kitchen as they shared their dinner while he stood across him with a whole table to separate them for safety and dignity reasons. the distance was important to him. what he didn't expect was the omega to just brush past him and collect his plate without any fanfare. it was perhaps the most intense whiff he'd gotten since the cat's heat started. a deep rumble grew in his chest, one he didn't let out.

he should say no... but gods he didn't want charles to look any more endearingly pitiable and dejected than he already was. and maybe it was a little self-serving for him, to want... to be next to charles. to want... him. there was just something different about all the other times he's been in this position; around an omega in their heat. maybe it was because charles was a virgin, maybe it was because he was (what amaridin hoped he assumed correctly) somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s and hadn't yet had any form of physical and sexual intimacy with anyone much less an alpha, and now all that was being compounded, maybe it was the fact that this place, this house already smelt like charles to the very core, having lived here his whole life, having spent every single heat here his whole life, such that the very essence of him permeated into the very walls, floors, papers, everything in the area. or maybe it was something that was just uniquely charles. and that something unique was what was drawing amaridin in, like viper coiling around its prey and pulling it in.

maybe it was everything tied together in an intricate and magical elven knot, meant to hold the heaviest of weights and burden.

the elf entertained the idea of sitting next to charles to eat. he knew he wasn't going actually to say no. he couldn't. "of course. it would be my honour." to be allowed to exist in his living space that he had so graciously offered to share. just that he had to be proper and gentlemanly when he was there. amaridin adjourned to the kitchen to retrieve his own plate then, noticing the unfortunate side effect of being in charles' mere presence. looks like they both affected each other. he was half hard, probably had been for a while. no chance of willing it to subside, since the cause of it would still be very much present. the cause of which he was swiftly returning to. in fact, it was highly indubitable that blood would continue to drain south, an unfortunate consequence... or fortunate one depending on how you looked at it. if one were to look down... or if one were sitting down and happened to be at the perfect height as he approached; a very noticeable bulge tenting the elf's pants would reveal itself.

he  always  thought  he  was  a  late  bloomer;  that's  what  his  parents  told  him  because  he  was  an  anti-social  mess  with  health  conditions  nobody  could  explain.  but  as  years  passed,  anti-social  expanded  into  anxiety-ridden  &  health  conditions...  turned  into  alcohol  addiction.  or  something  like  that.  then  he  went  through  his  twenties  &  nothing.  passed  thirty,  still  alone  -  every  single  heat  &  his  came  pretty  much  mostly  on  time.  leave  it  to  him  &  his  broken  body  &  soul  to  keep  the  heat  regular  &  normal.  like  he  was  a  healthy  omega.

his  fortieth  birthday  ...  had  been  depressing.  well,  his  entire  life  had  been.  actually,  add  that  to  his  list  of  health  conditions,  probably.  part  of  him  never  stopped  wondering  what  was  wrong  with  him,  because  why  on  earth  did  nobody  want  to  be  with  him?  but  then  he  remembered  that  new  haven  didn't  deliver  willing  alphas  to  your  doorstep  yet,  so...  he'd  die  alone.  which  was  probably  for  the  best.  this  just...  confirmed  it.

as  he  sat  on  the  couch/bed  to  wait  for  amaridin,  the  brave  elf  who  cooked  for  him  in  his  own  home  while  charles  went  into  heat  &  still  hadn't  even  tried  to  touch  him  despite  the  obvious  effect  charles'  scent  had  on  him,  he  realized  that  ...  he  likely  wouldn't.  if  he  wanted  to,  he  already  would've,  right?  charles  ...was  right  here.  dripping.  clinging  to  him  in  the  kitchen,  the  fact  his  heat  kick  started  days  early,  that  bulge  in  the  elf's  pants  ...  why?

what...was  the  problem?

was...  he  not  desirable?

did  he  ...not  even  qualify  for  quick  &  heartless  pheromone-induced?

why?

he  understood  nobody  was  looking  to  snatch  him  off  the  omega-market,  he  did.  whenever  he  went  out  &  came  into  contact  with  some  was  when  he  bought  booze  or  canned  foods,  but  even  that  he  mostly  ordered  &  the  delivery  guys..  didn't  stay  around  him  long  enough.  now  this  elf  was  in  his  home,  but  he  seemed  okay  -  other  than  the  boner  he  seemingly  planned  to  ignore.  what  did  that  say  about  his  ability  to  attract?  if  an  alpha  decided  to  ignore  his  arousal  .....in  order  to  not  touch  him  in  his  prime....?

nothing  good.

maybe  he  shouldn't  be  thinking  about  this  right  now,  he  felt  himself  deflate  right  next  to  the  elf,  form  hunched  over,  ears  pulled  back,  breaths  heavy  &  a  soft  sigh  released  through  his  nose.  the  food  smelled  heavenly,  but  ...  did  he  feel  like  eating?  the  alpha  came  all  the  way  to  cook  for  him,  so...  he  should.  do  it.  legs  spread  a  little  further  when  he  leaned  in  to  grab  his  plate  from  the  table,  propped  up  firmly  against  the  elf's,  warmth  spreading  across  from  one  body  to  the  next  like  wildfire.  the  first  bite  was  ...an  explosion.  surely,  it  would've  tasted  even  more  intensely  without  heat  dulling  his  senses  ...in  favor  of  intensifying  others,  but  it  was  -  truly  one  of  the  highlights  of  ....  well,  his  life.  no  doubt.  soft  noise  of  pleasure  escaped,  deep  breath  &  happy  sigh.

he  stuffed  his  face  with  food  -  fuck  manners  &  dignity,  where  did  that  ever  get  him?  the  closer  he  got  to  being  full,  the  slower  he  got,  maybe  for  a  second  he  even  forgot  he  was  still  leaking  ...technically  on  the  bed  now  through  underwear  &  sweatpants.  body  leaned  against  the  bigger  one  next  to  him  on  instinct,  not  to  search  pleasure  per  se,  just  ...  content.  cheeks  flushed,  dark  pink  &  covered  in  a  thin  layer  of  sweat.  breath  hot,  one  hand  came  to  find  the  alpha's  thigh.  not  squeezing,  just  ...  searching  ..comfort.  or  something.  he  wasn't  sure  how  long  he  ate,  how  much  time  passed,  but  he  glanced  up  at  the  other  from  where  he  still  leaned  against  him...

"i...  thank  you,  that  w-was...  so  good."

not just smell either. one look at charles would tell him all he needed to know. the omega was clammy, damp and not just from the water; his touch heated, reluctance at having to extract himself from amaridin's embrace. the cheetah's heat triggered, almost assuredly because of him. the proximity. his scent, mayhaps? he did work up quite a sweat. getting a face full of it certainly would exacerbate the issue.

amaridin? well he wasn't immune to the situation either.

the smell was intoxicating. better than any fae food or drink. the omega was so very ripe. but the elf had more fae-damned control than that. charles didn't deserve to have someone prop themselves upon him just because he was in heat. though amaridin did feel somewhat responsible for it.

wisely, charles seemed to take his advice. and by oberon, a glance at the man leaving caught him off guard. the fuzzy ears and tail detailing a very interesting image. gleoilya indeed. perhaps he ought to subscribe to the common word of cute, it seemed apt considering the circumstance.

the elf tilted his head back, moved it about a little, adjusting his neck to get himself reoriented to the matter at hand — his own ears weren't immune to movement either — he came here to prepare a meal and he was going to complete it. but first he'd had to clean up the mess. fire turned down to a low heat, he wasn't going to burn the vegetables but he can still let them cook. the elf scoured around for some paper towels, rags, whatever he could find from under the sink or around the kitchen. dabbing and wiping the floor most importantly with fabric before whatever else that got wet: cupboards, the table, the sink area.

amaridin made quick work of it and once that was thankfully done, the elf proceeded to finally stir fry the vegetables. it didn't take much more and by the time they were a nice vibrant colour, cooked to perfection, and tasted to ensure it was true. he both heard and smelt the owner of the house return. half of the freshly cooked vegetables, potatoes included went onto the plate of cubed chicken. now that was dinner ready, and had everything to make it a balanced and decently healthy one while still being flavourfully. "come in. it's ready." if charles was afraid of messing anything up he needn't be... if charles was afraid of him or his presence messing with his heat then well, amaridin was willing to extract himself from the situation. the elf filled the pot of pork off the stove then and went to the skin to add water that was initially supposed have already been added. wine and herbs and everything else followed after the pot was set back onto the stove. stirring the other half of the vegetables in, mixing them together as the pot was set for simmering. and now all they had to do was to wait for it to be reduced to a stew. that would be an hour or two. so best saved for supper or the next day's meal.

he  stood  in  the  living  room  among  piles  of  papers,  shifting  &  shuffling  from  one  foot  to  the  other  as  he  watched  the  broad  elf  man  the  kitchen.  a  kitchen  that  hadn't  seen  nearly  as  much  attention  in  ...  a  lifetime.  nor  had  he,  but  that  was  ...beside  the  point.  he  felt  out  of  place  there  now,  not  sure  how  to  feel  -  how  to  act  or  how  to  ..behave.  the  house  smelled  like  food  &  it  was  mouth-watering.  he  stood  there  &  could  practically  taste  the  meat  in  his  mouth  already.  okay,  maybe  that  was  the  feline  predator  within  him  speaking.

predator?

well,  the  ....kitten.  cat.  right,  yes.  he  was  ...  a  cat.  a  big,  ....big  cat.  carnivore  &  all  that,  yep.  he'd  been  born  to  tear  into  flesh  &  ...  stuff.  he  was  born  to-

it's  ready.

that,  thankfully,  stopped  him  from  another  hour  of  pretty  damn  embarrassing  mental  rambles  about  non-existent  prowess  he  had  or  maybe  didn't  have  in  him.  he  didn't.  "o-okay."  it...  turned  awkward  so  quickly  when  all  this  started  out  on  such  a  ...good,  gentle  &  soft  note.  then  again,  this  is  exactly  how  he'd  write  it,  right?  crush  the  protagonist,  break  his  little  heart  &  then,  just  as  he's  ready  to  give  it  all  up,  the  prince  returns  -  crown  tossed  aside  (or  space  suit  helmet  if  it's  an  alien  sci-fi  setting)  &  declares  his  undying  love  for  him.

not  that  he  expected  any  grand  gestures,  but  ....  okay,  he  didn't  expect  them,  but  that  didn't  mean  he  couldn't  hope  for  ....them.  one.  just  one.  or  maybe  two.  god,  he  didn't  know  what  he  wanted.  okay,  that  was  a  lie.  he  wanted  the  elf  to  use  his  big  strong  arms  to  shove  everything  off  the  kitchen  table,  pull  charles  in  with  a  long,  hard  tug  &  toss  him  on  said  now  vacant  kitchen  table.  did  he  actually  see  that  happen?  god  no.  well,  the  couch  ...or  coffee  table...  would  also  be  okay.  he  wasn't  too  picky,  so  long  as  amaridin  let  his  arms  flex  while  clearing  any  surface  for  it.

as  he  stepped  inside  the  kitchen,  he  ....  walked  into  a  wall  of  different  ...things.  heat  -  though  not  as  badly  as  before,  the  stove  surely  slowly  cooling  down  some,  he  smelled  ..himself  a  little  &  god,  the  food  smelled  so  damn  good.  but  also  something  else.  something  that  -  if  his  cheeks  weren't  already  pink  &  flushed  ....  would  bring  them  into  that  state  right  now.  he  could  smell  it,  clealry.  the  elf...  he...  he  felt  it,  too.

because  of  him?  really?  was  this  ....true?  it  was  probably  just  the  heat  speaking  &  charles  knew  not  to  expect  much,  but  at  the  same  time  ....  it  wasn't  like  alphas  were  lining  up  outside  to  pop  his  cherry,  so  ...  maybe  ...  if  the  elf...  if  he  wanted  to....  charles  wouldn't  refuse.  he  didn't  want  to  die  without  knowing  ....  without...  having  experienced  some  more.  mainly  getting  fucked  by  a  handsome,  tall  alpha,  but  he  could  pretend  there  were  more  things  on  his  bucket  list.  falling  in  love,  he'd  long  since  given  up  on.

"i—"

plate  abandoned  for  the  moment,  he...  turned  around  hastily  -  but  not  because  the  alpha's  arousal  worried  him,  oh  no.  but  because  a  fatal  error  had  been  noticed  when  he  stepped  inside  the  kitchen.  he'd  ...  sit  there  alone.  he...didn't  want  to.  so,  with  legs  that  really  shouldn't  be  carrying  him  anywhere  right  now  other  than  into  a  kneeling  position,  he  tried  to  clear  the  coffee  table  in  front  of  the  couch.  stacks  of  papers,  books,  his  laptop  ..  everything  went  on  the  floor  in  a  corner,  piled  up  neatly  but  also  not,  because  he  was  in  a  hurry.

wiping  sweat  from  his  brows  when  he  was  done,  he  must  be  stinking  of  slick  by  now  thanks  to  all  the  moving  he  did,  he  did  feel  ...accomplished..  just  a  little.  "d-do  you  ...  umm...  i  shoudl've  a-asked  p-probably,  but  uh..  do  you  want  t-to  eat  with  me?  h-here?"  they'd  have  to  sit  on  his  makeshift  bed,  but  ...that  shouldn't  smell  any  more  like  him  than  the  entire  house  did,  so...  yeah.

amaridin felt and heard the commotion caused at the sink at the same time. water splashed around, not everywhere but enough that stray flecks hit him. and additionally enough to leave a mess, on the floor or otherwise, that surely needed to be cleaned up. having the foresight to back away from the stove, keen elven senses working at their peak. the elf turned to react, only to have a very wet cat bump into him again, this time straight into his chest between his pectorals. as with before his hands moved to steady. both arms curling around the mass upon him, not in a full hug but close, pulling him in so he didn't continue on his warpath and trip again and out of his grip. making sure the cheetah's hands didn't go flaying about; who knows what he was prone to hit, preferably not anywhere near the table where the knife lay ready to draw blood. or the stove where the fire still burned below the pan. "i got you."

déjà vu. this was what? the third time in how many hours? two at most.

are felines not supposed to be agile characters? it certainly was strange. though falling against him twice might be a pattern... just not an intentional one, judging by charles' lack of... well planning (apart from the stories he wrote, or at least one would reasonably or comfortably assume). so that just confirmed one thing. auqua — which sounded much more graceful than the meaning of the word would imply — to perhaps a worrying degree. one could almost assume it was like he'd been glamoured. but amaridin, well, did have a soft spot for the feline associated, as gealithe could unquestionably attest to.

he remained... unaware of how his particular actions preceding this little hiccup would have caused this discomfort and subsequent chain of events. but perhaps thankfully aware of how his mere presence could do so. an alpha in an omega's house so close to their heat; a virgin one at that, and one that did not seem one bit social. this much interaction and unintentional physical contact must be messing with charles and his physiology.

when  was  it  enough?  would  it  ever  be?  what  the  hell  did  he  do  to  deserve  this?  to  humiliate  himself  in  front  of  strangers  time  &  time  again...  how  could  that  be  fair?  hell,  he  barely  went  out  &  still  the  one  time  he  does,  he  was  reminded  why  he  never  did.  admittedly,  picking  up  an  alpha  along  the  way  had  to  be  the  best  day  of  his  life,  but  still...  he  severely  doubted  anything  he'd  done  today  had  earned  him  any  positive  favors  whatsoever.

the  elf  would  most  likely  run  the  first  chance  he  got  &  truth  be  told,  charles  ...  wouldn't  blame  him.  he  couldn't.  he  was  a  damn  mess.  he  couldn't  even  get  a  bowl  of  water.  why  did  he  even  exist?  what  a  damn  waste  of  space  he  was.  damnit.

while  charles  enduring  his  own  personal  meltdown  (inside  his  head),  he  didn't  notice  how  very  snugly  he  was  being  held.  big  arms  around  him,  face  squished  into  the  alpha's  chest  &  his  musky  scent  spreading  throughout  the  feline's  entire  body,  the  elf's  warmth  soaked  up  by  a  very,  very  touch-deprived  omega  kitty  cat.  soft  purr  spread  across  his  body,  his  little  ears  twitching  among  the  blonde  mane  he  called  his  own.  kind  of.

charles  was  ...  blissfully  content  when  he  came  to,  warmth  engulfing  him,  the  elf's  scent  so  nice  on  the  nose  -  comfort  &  peace  washing  over  him  despite  the  rather  ....unraveling  effect  the  alpha's  scent  &  touch  had  on  his  body.  amaridin  would  most  likely  catch  the  change  in  his  scent  first,  would  smell  arousal  spiking  in  the  air,  would  be  able  to  -  if  faintly,  because  his  nose  surely  couldn't  beat  a  feline's,  be  able  to  tell  that  charles'  body  was  preparing  for  the  next  step.  who  was  he  kidding,  it  was  ready  &  practically  dripping  in  anticipation.

cheeks  flushed,  sweat  pooling  on  his  forehead  &  breath  hot  -  he  sure  made  a  sight  to  be  seen  then  the  elf  all  but  ...  split  them  in  two.  charles  might've  clung  to  his  torso...  just  a  little.  a  little.  words  snapped  him  out  of  his  stupor  &  the  blush  all  but  darkened  on  his  cheeks.  "oh."  right.  that  was  probably  for  the  best,  though  he  couldn't  help  his  heart  from  sinking  at  that  moment.

rejection  clear,  if  ...  masked  with  a  smile.  one  he  could  undoubtedly  get  lost  in.

"i-i'll  go...  d-do  that."  tail  tucked  between  his  legs  &  ears  pulled  back  against  his  head,  the  clumsy  feline  gave  a  little  nod  before  he  trotted  off,  up  a  set  of  stairs  he  didn't  often  pass,  to  find  fresh  (kind  of)  clothes  in  the  drawer  in  the  bedroom  upstairs.  might've  been  the  heat  talking,  or  the  lack  of  self-worth  he  felt  -  or  maybe  both,  but  to  be  asked  to  dress  ...instead  of  the  opposite..  stung  in  a  very  strange  &  twisted  way.  no,  he  didn't  know  why  he  felt  like  this.  or  maybe  he  did,  because  he'd  just  put  on  a  fresh  pair  of  boxer  briefs  &  they  were  wet  already.  "shit.  no  no  no,  not  now."

calm  down,  deep  breaths.  maybe...  maybe  you  can  stall  it.  amaridin  would  most  likely  leave  after  they  ate,  that  was  what?  two  hours  tops?  c'mon,  body.  frustration  was  a  heavy  burden  to  carry  sometimes,  especially  when  every  single  thing  he  did  tonight  was  ....frustrating.  tears  welled  up,  but  he  wiped  at  his  eyes  quickly  &  rigorously,  making  sure  that  when  he  came  down  the  stairs  again,  he'd  not  make  himself  look  even  more  pathetic  than  he  had  already. big sweater was pulled on for comfort reasons, jeans left abandoned for a pair of sweatpants. he definitely wouldn't impress with his new outfit either.

hunched  over  a  little,  left  hand  holding  onto  the  elbow  of  the  other  so  that  his  arm  somewhat  protected  his  front,  charles  returned,  but  ....  kept  his  distance  from  the  kitchen  this  time.

the elf was completely unaware of charles' terror of technically inviting him back to his house. one would have assumed that meeting again would not necessary dictate meeting in one's house, but for someone who never left their house it was a reasonable thought. and taking a book... or perhaps treasured stacks of paper with him, well that was nothing to be concerned about in amaridin's eyes. "the thought is most appreciated."

halfway prepping the elf changed his mind about the dish he'd been planning to make, figuring he ought to make more than just one. at least then charles would have actual meals the coming day or two when he was not around. he retrieved more vegetables and a slab of pork from the fridge and became systemically cutting them up like he had the other items before. once all the ingredients were prepared, the elf started the stove and began to fry the chicken, adding herbs, condiments and sauces. he made a mental note to find a place to keep all these later. surely there would be empty cabinets. once that was done, he removed them from the pan and placed them into a plate. before doing the same to the pork. the aromas of the stir-fried meats filled the kitchen, something that probably never happened in decades or at all. this time for the pork, he transferred the meat into a pot instead of a plate.

he  had  copies  of  most  of  his  works  on  the  computer,  so  it  wasn't  necessary  per  se  for  the  alpha  to  return  them  to  him,  but  maybe  charles  just  wanted  ...that  little  backdoor  to  remain...open.  he  didn't  think  much  of  it,  knew  that  he  was  not  considered  a  great  catch  for  most,  but  that  didn't  mean  he  couldn't  ....  wish.  dream,  some  may  call  it.  yeah,  maybe  he  was  a  dreamer.

the  elf  didn't  tell  him  to  ...well,  cut  anything,  which  was  a  fair  decision  he  wasn't  going  to  question.  so  as  it  was,  the  feline  stood  behind  him,  off  to  the  side  a  little  &  watched.  it  wasn't  so  much  that  he  aimed  to  learn  how  to  cut  meat  &  vegetables,  but  ..  it  was  just  fascinating  to  watch  him  cut  everything  up  into  pieces.  he  sure  knew  what  he  was  doing  &  part  of  charles  envied  the  man.  another  reason  he  was  not  considered  a  good  catch.  he...  couldn't  take  care  of  anybody  -  least  of  all  himself.  he  knew  that  nowadays  the  rules  &  expectations  weren't  as  strict  anymore,  so  omegas  weren't  ....well,  slaves,  but  ...  still.

the  scent  that  spread  in  the  kitchen  was  unlike  anything  he'd  ever  smelled  before.  it  wafted  up  his  nose  &  filled  his  lungs  bit  by  bit,  slowly  driving  him  crazy  with  a  sudden  urge  in  his  stomach.  it  churned  &  rumbled  in  desperate  need.  something  he  really  ...  didn't  ..know  unless  he  forgot  to  eat  for  a  few  days.  "that...  smells  good."  it  was  then  that  the  man  turned  to  him  &  his  eyes  follows  amaridin's  to  that  bowl.  hasty  nod,  quick  feet  carried  him  over  to  fill  it  with  water  as  told,  but  he  made  the  grave  mistake  of  turning  to  face  him  while  it  did,  just  in  time  for  the  elf  to  lift  his  shirt.  harmless  to  most.

but  charles...  couldn't  help  stare,  eyes  roaming  his  broad  chest,  strength  &  hard  work  written  all  over  it.  his  heart  quickened  at  the  sight,  even  though  it  lasted  barely  a  few  seconds,  fingers  wet  &  movement  a  little  ...  sloppy,  because  he  could  still  see  a  bit  of  skin  &  honestly?  that  entire  damn  scene  had  to  be  out  of  a  book.  one  like  his.  cheap,  stupid  &  of  course  when  he  lifted  the  bowl  out  of  the  sink,  wet  fingers  lost  grip,  so  it  hit  the  edge  of  the  sink,  shot  water  across  ...well,  far  &  also  at  charles,  his  shirt  somewhat  drenched,  which  in  turn  made  him  jump  because  it  was  cold  &  because  that  chain  reaction  hadn't  been  long  enough  yet,  he  bumped  into  the  elf  again  all  the  while  little  no  no  no  no's  accompanied  him.

oh  god,  he'd  died  a  damn  virgin.

&  he  couldn't  even  blame  anybody  but  himself.

carpe diem. (or carpe noctem... since it was already night.) you beautiful feline.

"gleoilya." he repeated. "it’s uh — nothing bad or rude i assure you." not particularly sure how to explain it right. not just in terms of it being correct, but also if it was right for charles to even hear the explanation. still, it wasn't something either of them should think too much about. though it was curious how their ears were a fixture in each of their eyes.

adjourning back to the kitchen. amaridin continued his work. the elf focused his efforts on slicing and dicing the vegetables, though it seemed like hardly any effort went into the action. the expertise of such was second nature to him, and the speed and precision which said expertise allowed him to make quick work of the greens, reds, oranges, yellows... and other colours involved. and tossed into an empty bowl they went.

listening to the omega speak, more eloquently than usual, albeit still with a little stammer here and there, was immensely insightful. papers explained. so he was a writer. sequestering himself away. or dreaming of fantasy worlds beyond reality. living in the in between. art in his own form. in a way, amaridin could appreciate that. his own pieces, mostly practical, was art in of itself — both ones made of metal and glass. unfinished pieces were less common, most were made to order. but he definitely had some, those that were more artistic in nature, that remained stagnant during the times when creatively he floundered. though by contrast, the alpha's work space was definitely less cluttered, much cleaner. it had to be, dangerous as it was; working flame, metal and glass. "would you do me the honour of sharing a work of yours? you don't have to if you're not comfortable, but i am intrigued." interest piqued, wondering just what that brain of his was hiding.

watching  the  elf  do  this,  charles  knew  he  shouldn't  strive  to  match  his  skill  -  he  doubted  he  ever  could.  colors  flew,  as  did  the  knife  in  the  man's  hand,  seemingly  gliding  through  the  vegetables  -  some  he'd  never  seen  before,  with  ease.  maybe  if  he'd  had  parents  in  his  life,  he  could  do  the  same,  but  he  wasn't  mad.  he  didn't  blame  his  parents  for  what  they  did  -  or  didn't  do  &  really,  the  food  he  usually  ate  wasn't  that  bad.  he  was  still  here,  right?  so.

charles  didn't  usually  have  visitors,  nor  did  anybody  ever  ask  him  about  his  stories  -  most  people  didn't  know  he  wrote  -  or  that  they  were  his,  or  ...  that  he  loved  writing  despite  feeling  like  he  shouldn't  because  he  was  terrible  at  it  anyway.  the  little  niche  fandom  celebrating  his  latest  series  ...  only  partially  helped  silencing  voices  of  doubt  &  self-loathing.  he  wasn't  even  sure  why  he  told  amaridin,  he  could've  lied  &  claimed  it  was  rubbish.

his  inquiry  was  ...  surprising,  not  because  he  didn't  think  the  elf  was  unable  to  read  -  oh  no.  but  he  wasn't  sure  the  man  could  find  them  even  remotely  interesting.  he  honestly  didn't  understand  why  anybody  did.  he  was  debating  his  response  when  the  alpha  brought  up  another  concern.  right.  "uhm,  no.  i'm  not  allergic  to  meats."  he  thought.  no,  should  be  okay.  "i  think.  n-never  had  any  issues."  so  he  assumed  it  was  fine.  he  couldn't  remember  the  last  time  he  saw  meat  like  this.

"a-and  uh,  about  my...  my  stories.  you..  you  can  read  them,  but  umm...  uhhhh,  yeah.  i've  got  them  here.  some..  anyway."  he  was  the  kind  of  writer  (not  a  good  one)  who  had  his  own  published  series  set  up  in  one  of  the  shelves  in  the  living  room.  his  writer  name  ..  wasn't  actually  his  true  name.  not  that  it  mattered,  amaridin  would  know  it  was  his  once  he  showed  him.  obviously.  not  that  charles  was  trying  to  hide  per  se  -  well,  he  was.  but  in  an  opposite  direction.  he  wanted  to  hide  who  wrote  them  to  avoid  the  ridicule.  funnily  enough  ...the  books  weren't  bestsellers,  not  really,  but  they  did  quite  okay.

a question raised in his mind as the omega tilted his body towards him and it was then that his predicament was revealed. a hole or zip (another useful feature) at the back of his pants could be useful for such situations... and then he realised how it sounded if he were to voice it aloud. "if it gets you comfortable." he suspected his presence had an effect on that. the involuntarily transformation out in the street caused by the crass alpha and his display of power and machoism. amaridin wasn't sure if it was then the tail came out or only now that he'd been inside the man's house. and while he appeared unfazed by charles' own presence, the reality of it was a little closer than one would expect. his nature as both an elf and an aged man certainly helped. he's had years to develop control and was more collected than another alpha (especially one of another species, namely ones with enhanced senses) in his place would be. "you look..." he searched for the word, unable to come up with anything that would fit this time, or the english language. gesturing vaguely with his hand as he did so. "gleoilya." especially with the colour on his cheeks.

he smiled kindly, "you can observe? maybe learn a thing or two." he didn't think he'd want charles handling a knife. seems like it would end up an unmitigated disaster. "just don't trip and fall on a knife please." amaridin was teasing him a little, though it was very much a cause of concern. he was privy to healing magic, but he rather not bloody the kitchen up. "could help with the sink. maybe the stove." and even then a fire was not something he'd want here... not with all the stack of papers lying about. he'd seen many a house go up in flames in his lifetime.

well.

stop  it.  he  pities  you,  that's  all.  it  was  ..  an  important  reminder,  because  charlie  was  a  writer  through  &  through,  his  brain  always  on  the  verge  of  dipping  into  fantasy.  this..wasn't  that.  this  was  not  some  hollywood  love  story.  he  was  not  a  main  protagonist.

observe.

little  nod,  he  leapt  from  where  he  sat,  struggling  a  little  as  dizziness  washed  over  him.  moved...too  fast.  he  was  fine,  though,  awkward  little  grin  on  his  lips.  "i'll  ..watch."  he  could  do  that.  he...didn't  trust  himself  with  a  knife  either,  fingers  trembling  &  heart  racing  too  much  to  even  try.  "i...  i'll  try."  he  ..would  attempt  not  to  stab  himself,  yeah  he  could  do  that.  stove...  may  be  a  bad  idea  with  how  easily  distracted  he  was  currently,  the  elf's  broad  &  tall  frame  so...so  very  distracting.  his  ears  were  beautiful.  he  truly  looked  like  a  man  out  of  his  time.

he  slunk  in  closer,  keeping  his  distance,  but  walking  around  the  elf  whenever  he  moved  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  hands.  they  moved  so...  smoothly  around  the  knife,  like  he  was  used  to  using  it.  charles  didn't  doubt  he  was.  probably  a  ...  hunter.  someone  who  worked  with  his  hands  a  lot.  hard  work  familiar.  his  question  caught  him  off-guard.  "o-oh.  ummm...  it's  uh,  i  write.  drafted  chapters.  well,  most  of  them.  some  are  uhhh,  failed  creations  i've  yet  to  abandon."  if  amaridin  paid  the  cheetah  much  mind,  he'd  notice  a  slight  lack  of  tremble  in  the  feline's  voice  when  he  spoke  about  his  ...life's  work.

he began preparations for dinner then. definitely had enough for a meal for two, he knew he was probably staying to ensure charles actually ate the meal prepared. the elf started with rinsing the vegetables... and then realised he ought to wash away the dust from all the unused items, especially the knife, chopping board, pot and pan. at least the bowls seemed used enough — he didn't only eat straight from the can did he...

preparing food used to be different — well the general logistics of it was the same, but with advent of refrigeration, marination didn't mean just preservation anymore. not that he was going to let a marinade sit in the fridge for hours for this particular meal. most of his food back in the day was also meat from his hunts seasoned and then cooked over an open flame, usually outdoors by a campsite. clean running water was also not always readily available; though elf magic could certainly help with that.

he  did  have  a  towel  in  the  kitchen  at  least.  he  did  wash  his  hands  quite  often,  so  paper  towels  -  he  found,  wouldn't  do  in  the  long  run.  cooking  was  something  he  never  quite  learned.  his  mother  surely  never  took  the  time  to  teach  him  -  though  he  had  been  quite  little  when  she  was  still  home  to  cook  &  with  his  parents  dropping  him  money  to  order  in  most  of  the  time  because  they  were  out  of  town  or  too  busy  unraveling  the  world's  mysteries....  he  simply....  hadn't  ever  learned  to.

so  it  wasn't  like  he  refused  to.  he  just  didn't  know.  besides,  cans  were  easy.  sometimes  he  got  those  fancy  asian  dinner  boxes  that  came  with  tiny  little  extra  bowls.  one  for  the  rice,  one  for  the  chicken,  one  for  the  sauce.  he  couldn't  really  get  those  too  often,  but  he  felt  especially  fancy  when  eating  those.

he  wondered  what  the  other  thought  of  him,  coming  in  here  &  seeing  his  life  in  proverbial  shambles,  but  if  he  wanted  to  turn  around  &  leave  ...  he  hadn't  said  so.  would  he  tell  him?  or  would  he  despise  being  here  until  he  could  leave  &  never  be  seen  again?

then  he  came  running  &  charles  couldn't  help  his  cheeks  from  turning  the  possibly  darkest  shade  of  pink.  "yeah,  yeah.  i'm  uhhh...ummm...."  legs  spread  in  a  wide  cross-legged  position,  he  placed  his  hands  down  on  the  couch  &  lifted  himself  a  little  to  turn  to  his  side,  baring  his  tail  having  slipped  out  of  the  back  of  his  pants  -  hence  the  lack  of  a  button.  "i...  sometimes  i  can't  really  c-control  it."  nerves.  he  knew  it  was  the  nerves.  that  &  heat  knocking  ...  he  didn't  have  much  hope  of  returning  to  normal  while  the  elf  was  around.

didn't pay attention? it was probably why the cheetah slipped and crashed into him in the first place. amaridin was speechless. the other would probably have been waylaid in the street if he hadn't been there. though the alpha supposed that blissful ignorance could be seen as a blessing really, not knowing when he'd been objectified on the street, seen as nothing more than a piece of meat... as long as he didn't get attacked of course. and it truly wasn't okay. though he suspected trying to convince charles would be a fruitless venture. as such, they walked the rest of the way, which admittedly wasn't much, in silence.

the scent of charles permeated the walls and the space he stepped into. it was one thing to smell him around, but to have the omega's scent everywhere in the old home... especially when he was about to go into heat...

perhaps this endeavour would be a little more trying than he thought it would be.

if he was honest though, it was mild concern as compared to whatever his eyes could see. this was worse than he thought. amaridin winced, almost imperceptibly. it wasn't unliveable, messy and cluttered sure, but it felt more like someone's storeroom than a living room — though the elf supposed the name was more apt in this case, it looked like charles lived in it and did everything in this very room.

amaridin was then led to the kitchen and the first thing he noticed was that it felt almost abandoned in a way. like he had the sinking feeling that most of these cabinets hadn't been opened in years; except of course the ones he assumed would hold all the canned goods and booze... the rest, aye, untouched. he wondered if the man even had a working stove. he also wondered if the fridge was even working but then realised it probably was the only thing that got frequent use in the kitchen: to cool his alcohol.

the elf gestured at the fridge and the cupboards where he assumed the cooking apparatuses would be. "may i?" amaridin waited for the other's assent before he proceeded to unload the purchases: whatever fresh food he wasn't going to use went into the fridge, the beer as well; canned food and snacks next to the dwindling and almost barren supply of both in the cabinets; and booze in the adjacent shelf. if he made any mistakes, charles would probably just correct it later when he wasn't there... though he had a feeling that the omega would just end up living with it.

for  a  moment,  he  thought  he  would  end  up  unable  to  open  the  door,  his  fingers  trembling  &  it  felt  like  the  lock  was  moving.  when  he  finally  let  them  inside,  he  felt  regret  wash  over  him  instantly.  the  kitchen  was  through  the  living  room,  which  ...  well..  was  not  ideal.  but  he  was  here  now,  so..  he  might  as  well.  he  hovered  behind  the  tall  elf  as  he  roamed  the  kitchen,  scurrying  backwards  a  little  so  he  could  meet  his  eyes.  "y-yeah.  go  ahead."  the  fridge  was  functional,  charles  knew  that,  but  the  last  time  he  stored  food  in  it  was  ..  a  while.  sometimes,  on  very  brave  days,  he  ordered  pizza  &  said  pizza  would  last  for  a  few  days.  he...ate  it  cold  on  the  following  days.  no,  he  didn't  mind.

his  question,  though,  was  understandable  -  if  a  little  surprising  given  the  reason  he  came  here.  "um."  he  thought  for  a  moment,  shoulders  lifted  into  a  shrug.  "i-i  don't  know.  i'm  uh...  a  while?  i....  i  don't  cook."  he  was  incapable;  it  was  a  miracle  he  didn't  set  his  house  on  fire  yet  while  trying  to  heat  up  ravioli  or  something.  "ummm."  hand  brushed  through  his  hair,  he  glanced  away,  fingers  found  his  furry  ears  &  he  audibly  gasped.  why  didn't  he  say  something?  oh  god.  they  twitched,  but  didn't  actually  vanish,  even  though  he  tried.

he dropped his arm back down as he let the other lead the way. the sun had fully set by then and darkness had fallen with the moon peeking out over building tops. their way illuminated by streetlamps. "i'm amaridin." the alpha offered suddenly as they walked, realising that he hadn't yet introduced himself to the other... and he was already on the way to his house to cook for him.

someone walked past, examining the omega up and down, eyeing him hungrily. the stranger got too close, looking like he was about to get handsy as a wolf whistle rang through the air.

amaridin growled, eyes turning red as he reached out and pulled the cheetah towards him and away from the stranger (not that he himself wasn't also a stranger). as if to say, back the fuck off. it didn't take a genius to know what the passer-by was thinking. "suaroá sotalach yo blodren." the alpha muttered under his breath.

the  cheetah  glanced  up  at  that,  eyes  searching  for  the  alpha's  eyes  in  the  dark,  "charles.  o-or  charlie.  i  mean..  uhhhh,  unless  you  think  it's  stupid.  ch-charles  is  fine."  such...an  old  man  name.  introducing  himself  to  class  had  always  gone  well.  charles.  but  it  didn't  matter  anymore  now,  nobody  had  used  his  name  in  a  long,  long  time  ...  sometimes  he  could  swear  he  almost  forgot  it,  but  alas...

unaware  of  his  surroundings  most  of  the  time,  he  almost  didn't  notice  the  other  alpha  -  charles  never  really  looked  around  him,  he  just  rushed  from  a  to  b,  which  was  usually  home  or  to  the  store.  didn't  matter.  he  held  his  breath  when  sniffed,  make  himself  as  small  as  he  could,  which...  well,  he  was  short  compared  to  many  in  town,  so...but  the  el...amaridin..  thought  differently?  his  little  outburst  had  the  feline  almost  scurry  home  alone,  but  he  was  held  against  the  alpha's  hip  with  a  strong  grip  &  honestly,  that  was  all  it  took  to  make  him  weak  in  the  knees  -  his  scent  so  close,  filling  his  lungs  &  making  a  home  there.  just  ...like  the  elf  had  in  his  ...life?

a  pair  of  furry  little  ears  popped  up  on  the  side  of  his  head  to  replace  their  counterpart  &  his  slender  tail  pooled  in  the  back  of  his  loose  pants,  eyes  golden  in  response,  because  how  could  they  not  be  after  that  display  of  ....  power....?  "n-no...  it's  okay.  thank...you?  i-i...  didn't  pay  attention."  they  ..weren't  far  anymore.  well,  they  never  were  even  though  it  felt  like  it  to  him.

seeing  his  home  pop  up  in  the  distance  brought  an  instant  wave  of  calm  over  him,  though  nervousness  popped  back  into  his  life  when  he  brought  the  stranger  closer  &  had  to  search  his  own  clothes  to  find  the  key.  yes,  he  was  a  mess.  when  he  finally  found  it,  he  ...let  them  inside  his  humble  little  abode....  &  truly  wished  he'd  had  time  to  clean  up.  stacks  of  papers  filled  most  of  the  floor  space,  the  living  room  screamed  someone  lives  in  me,  empty  beer  cans  &  bottles  scattered,  makeshift  bed  on  the  couch  &  everything  was  dark,  even  after  he  turned  on  the  light  it  was  ...kind  of  dark.  it  was  an  old  house...

still there was the current matter at hand. the omega cheetah wasn't wrong, he really ought to be home; especially before any opportunistic people decided to ambush him. and as for amaridin? well...

he shouldn't.

he shouldn't intrude. or impose. but he just cannot in good conscience imagine sending this omega home with nothing in terms of actual food or comfort. it would be an utter betrayal to his senses and principles.

the eyes. the other's piercing blue eyes is what made the choice for him. something deep in those eyes called to him. the elf stood up, scratched at his beard. "at least let me cook you something simple." he wasn't sure if the other could say no, and amaridin wasn't sure if he even would; or even if he himself would truly be able to back off. still, the omega was very well within his rights to run away. before the cheetah could really protest however, the elf hurried down the aisles, picking out some proteins: chicken, pork, fish. more than one type in case the other favoured one over the other, or rather disliked one over the other... unless he didn't know considering it seemed like canned food was his staple and canned proteins were... very different. amaridin pulled some vegetables off the shelves, and then finally some condiments — in the event the other lacked them at home or a garden. all that should be sufficient for a meal (or three), nothing too extravagant, but definitely generous in nutrition and portion.

rewind,  scrap  it  all,  what.

was  ....  hold  on,  fuck.  was  he  dreaming  again?  did  he  just  ...realize  he  was  dreaming....in  a  dream?  this  had  to  be  it,  really,  because  he  had  no  reasonable  explanation  for  all  of  this  happening  otherwise.  he  got  drunk  yes  &  he  probably  was  a  little  drunk  still  ...although  the  heat  &  anxiety  probably  burned  through  that  quickly  on  the  way  to  the  store.  regardless  of  that,  the  only  explanation  he  had  was  this,  because  ...  just  as  heat  neared,  an  alpha  coming  into  his  life  &  offering  to  cook  for  him?  that  was  fantasy  right  there.

if  he  didn't  know  better,  he'd  claim  he  already  wrote  about  it  in  one  of  his  books.  what  now?  should  he  roll  with  it  &  see  where  this  dream  led  him?  was  he  mentally  strong  enough  for  another  wet  dream  about  an  alpha  he  couldn't  have?  the  last  one  that  came  into  his  home  almost  broke  his  nose,  so...  what  was  the  worst  that  could  happen,  right?  give  in  to  fantasy  &  maybe  his  imagination  would  surprise  him  again.

by  the  time  he'd  ...  kind  of  made  a  decision  &  somewhat  blinked  awake  from  imaginary  slumber  in  the  middle  of  the  store,  the  elf  had  returned  -  of  course,  it  was  his  dream.  but  he  ....  had  gone  to  grab  groceries?  "ummmm....  okay."  why  not?  what  was  the  worst  that  could  happen?  that  he'd  not  spend  yet  another  heat  in  agony?  oh  no,  how  horrible.  besides,  dreams...  would  not  come  true.

the alpha had the feeling there had to be some kind of misunderstanding. unless he was completely dumbfounded at the idea that someone could or would actually feed him. and wasn't that thought and possibility worrying. "yes. home cooked food, a warm hearty meal." which he wouldn't have if he had nobody and didn't cook for himself. "meal service. food you take home; takeaway — takeout." he gestured vaguely with hands, unsure of which term was better used here.

gaze  rested  on  the  elf  alpha's  facial  features  -  waiting  for  them  to  twist  &  turn  into  a  mischievous  grin  of  sorts,  something  that  revealed  that  he  had  been  joking  &  charles  -  being  as  naive  &  inexperienced  as  he  (unfortunately)  was  ...didn't  catch  it  in  time.  but  ...there  was  nothing  but  confusion  towards  his  reaction,  which  in  return  confused  charles.  was  he  offering  home-cooked  meals?  or  was  he  giving  him  advice  on  this,  telling  him  to  order  food  ...for  himself  when  he  was  in  heat?  did  he  not  realize  that  charles  would  potentially  be  inviting  an  alpha  into  his  home  this  way?  was  he  ...implying  he  should?  what  was  he  ...saying?

"uh...  i-i  mean...  "  if  like  this  meant  surviving  on  booze  &  cans,  then  ...yes.  well,  maybe  sometimes  charles  felt  frisky  &  went  for  ramen.  or  these  fancy  microwave  meals  for  men.  "ummm...  i..  i  guess?"  what  was  the  problem?  he  didn't  get  it.  maybe  it  was  something  elf-related  he  couldn't  understand,  or  a  timetravel-y  thing  he  also  couldn't  understand.  he  hadn't  met  one  of  their  kind  yet  &  the  only  reason  he  knew  they  existed  in  town...  was  the  radio.  would  he  prefer  not  dying  alone?  surely.  but  he'd  long-since  given  up  hope  &  accepted  the  truth.  they  were  still  somewhat  hovering  between  check  out  &  the  story,  which  ....made  him  even  more  anxious.

he doubt it would change any time soon. world changed as it is. he was still the same old elf. the same old alpha.

he hummed; an old fae melody, some said was actually a calming spell, one they used on babies, children and the hurting, as he trailed along, following the other as the man proceeded to fill his hands and arms with canned food — another one of the miracles of the modern world — like it was the apocalypse, or so the elf had learnt. and then fate had a funny way of messing with them. the feline almost crashing into him again when the other stopped moving. contrary to what the omega thought, the alpha did not think he looked all that pitiful; just a little harried and distraught, all understandable considering his circumstance.

amaridin's had years to develop control. even if everything and people all smelled different here. but there was that strange allure to the omega, not just the melting pot of emotions, or the very obvious tell tale signs of a surfacing heat, or even the fact that, now he's spent enough time around the other, the omega was unmated but more importantly a virgin. a very dangerous thing to be. but everything under that, or maybe it was everything added and mixed together. "i can." amaridin took the burden off the cheetah with ease. he usually had a basket with him, which would have been really useful in the moment, but he had planned on going hunting this week and as such didn't need too much from the store.

and then they were moving onto the alcohol section and the elf took the opportunity to pluck an empty basket from one of the aisles, where he unloaded his armfuls of canned and boxed goods and snacks. question posed, and yes, while he did need to obtain some items, he was far more busy sorting thorough the stranger's potential purchases. from his position crouched down, he sighed, but did not want to seem too imposing.

okay,  maybe  he  was  totally  wrong  about  that,  but  maybe  not.  he  just  felt  like  ...  a  prince  brought  to  him  from  a  time  that  didn't  exist  anymore.  or  maybe  he'd  just  been  raised  well,  because  he  doubted  many  other  alphas  in  new  haven  would  do  the  same.  not  that  he  met  many  of  them  to  judge,  but  ..it  was  a  valid  guess.  he  may  rush  home  most  of  the  times  he  was  forced  out  of  the  house,  but  ...  he  still  picked  up  on  things.  sometimes.  kind  of.  even  if  only  for  inspiration,  of  which  his  short  trips  to  hell  &  back  gave  him  plenty.