That friend who is too woke

Old Money Leo is definitely something I can get behind

Leo Valdez did not have heats. That was just a simple fact of life, devoid of judgement, only fact. The sky registered as blue in the human mind, there were roughly 70 sextillion stars in the observable universe, and Leo Valdez did not have heats. It wasn’t that he was opposed to heats or anything, much less the people who had them (he drank like a fish and celebrated with the rest of his friends during Percy’s Pre-Heat Parties) they just didn’t suit his lifestyle. The concept of heats was mildly appealing in a detached sort of way, the whole “fuck me until I pass out or get knocked up” thing was kinda hot, but he simply had better things to do than block out a whole week of his life every six months for a semi-anual Boinkfest. Besides, unlike Percy, Leo’s heats had always been erratic and hit him out of nowhere. He’d go to bed fine, then wake up the next morning sweat-and-slick-soaked and have to cancel all his appointments for the next week. So yeah. For him, suppressants were the obvious, easy choice, and he never once regretted signing himself up for a heat-free life.

Only, the universe had its own clever little ideas. The thing was that no heat suppressant on the market could ever truly overwrite Leo’s biological desire for Jason to fuck a baby into him. He still didn’t have proper heats, Boinkfest was still canceled, but every now and then, when Jason was just a little too perfect, Leo’s body would forget that he deliberately took medication to avoid getting knocked up, and demand it anyway.

The crazy thing was that it was always an accident. Jason didn’t just kick down the door, oozing Alpha pheromones and demanding submission, he was way too mild-mannered for that kind of traditional macho bullshit, and even if he tried, it wouldn’t work. No, the thing that sent Leo’s lizard brain into a horny tailspin was when Jason was gentle. Those mornings when Leo would wake up to breakfast already made and Jason was kneading his big, sturdy hands into all the knots in Leo’s back, and Leo knew that he would want for nothing all day. It wasn’t that Jason was doing it for a reward of some kind, he just genuinely believed that Leo deserved to be treated like the most precious thing that ever existed. Something about that, about Jason’s willingness, eagerness to provide and serve would make Leo’s brain itch, would make those Omega instincts of his coo, Oh, what a good father for my pups. Sometimes, when the stars and Leo’s hormones aligned, that one little thought would trigger what Leo’s doctor referred to as a false heat.

False heats were pretty much exactly what they said on the tin. All the rip-roaring fun of a standard heat, just lacking some of the intensity. A false heat could be triggered, and Leo would slick through his boxers and feel his mind go soft and fuzzy in that one sort of way that made him desperate for anything, but especially Jason. Unlike a regular heat, however, it would pass within the hour if he excused himself for some Good Old Leo Time (patent pending) and after very thoroughly washing his hand and changing his shorts, he’d be good to go. Most of the time, that was exactly what he did. Even if they were fed and allowed to reach their full potential, false heats usually only lasted twelve hours or so, but that was twelve hours Leo had planned for other stuff. Most days, he simply didn’t have time to stick his ass in the air and get fucked into the mattress just because Jason cut the crusts off Leo’s sandwich and spent nearly ten minutes getting every string off of his orange without being asked.

But sometimes, if Leo didn’t have anything planned and he knew Jason’s schedule was just as flexible, he simply let his Omega brain take the wheel for a bit.

Today was one of those days. It was a Wednesday afternoon, Leo had finished up at the shop and Jason was done with classes for the semester, and there was nothing for them to do. Jason had come home to find Leo face down on the couch, completely wiped from a busy morning of manual labor, and taken it upon himself to fix that. He’d started with a shared shower where he’d gently scrubbed all the oil and car grime out from under Leo’s fingernails, wrapped him in the stupidly fluffy cream bathrobe Jason had bought for himself but only used for a man two sizes smaller, then laid him back on the couch where he was handfed from a charcuterie board of meats, crackers, soft cheese, and fresh fruit. 

Now, Jason was kneeling on the floor, Leo’s foot cradled in his student-soft palms while his thumbs rubbed the ache out of his arches, and Leo felt something molten beginning to grow low in his stomach, just above the V of his hips. His eyes went lazy and half-lidded when Jason actually pressed a kiss to his sole. “You work so hard,” Jason murmured, lips brushing against skin, and Leo melted deeper into the cushions. “Thank you for letting me take care of you.”