Knot Dispencer

“Guilty,” he says as he takes a step forward. He banishes his lighter to his pocket and raises a hand lazily in greeting. “Thanks for coming…” On such short notice is implied though he isn’t sure that it’s necessary. This had all happened very suddenly: the aching claw of loneliness, the need for immediate relief, taking a chance on an advertisement and reaching out, agonizing over his choice of words so it didn’t sound like he was begging for a little company.

Desperation isn’t a good look, not that he’s trying to impress anyone. 

“So,” he continues, sweeping a hand through his hair and tucking it behind his ear, “you got many feelings about this festival? The dango’s good. I figured we could get some, if that suits you- my treat. Everything’s my treat, I mean, considering…” 

There was a usual cockiness to Fidel whenever the coyness was able to be heard from his client's voice. The uncertainty and anticipation bubbling to the surface. Standing besides the alpha witch, however, that particular brand of cockiness was absent. Moving in to New Haven had once felt like a dream come true for the werewolf, being able to live and let live. It seemed like the towns motto in some way - felt on some day more than others.

Now, however, Fidel felt a bit concerned for the alpha witch. Maybe it was the cracks in the dome causing doubt in his mind. The talk about his price made him feel a bit more anxious about taking on clients while inside New Haven. People in robes weren't the only thing lurking around that Fidel had to worry about ruining his fun. He decides to play it by ear with the guy. He didn't seem like terrible company to keep. It was a festival too, never a bad thing to keep company while celebrating.

"I wouldn't mind something to eat." Fidel smiles softly at the other alpha. He did find it funny, growing up a prince, it was usually him buying and obtaining things for other people. Landing here, circumstances allowed for roles to switch - something he was no stranger to. "Festivals a bit new to me, but I remember having a few celebrations like these in the past."

"We.. We can talk payment later." Fidel offers, "Not exactly planning on going anywhere with all that's happening outside, are ya?" He asks mischievously, "Let's just hang out for a sec. See if we connect first before we're jumping each other's bones." He winks at him.

Everything’s chill. 

These words fly through JD’s brain at speeds that are decidedly not chill, echoing like some kind of sick mantra. He flits almost begrudgingly around his room; he grabs clothes, inspects them, shrugs them on briefly before deciding he’s unsatisfied. An array of black t-shirts litter his floor and several pairs of pants are stranded amongst them. It’s a tragedy, really- because it shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be feeling anything remotely akin to nervous; he should be lounging on the old couch, indulging in the pleasant thrum of energy that’s taken root at the base of his skull. 

But that's the JD who lives in another world. In another town, even.

He’s due for a hit of caffeine by the time he emerges into the main living area. His attire is monochrome, perhaps bland- white distressed jeans and a black t-shirt with a black and white plaid shirt left open over it. He slips his hands in his pockets experimentally, more accustomed to wearing sweats than anything else. His lips curve in a self-satisfied smile before he procures his phone. He rests his hip against the arm of the couch as he scrolls idly through his messages, needing to parse a sea of garbage to find the thread he’s actually looking for. 

A short exchange, one he’d initiated himself with one of the locals. He’d hardly introduced himself- call me JD is the best he could do amidst inquiring about an agreeable time to meet up and dropping his address.

His contact should be here soon, if he’s timely at all. If not, well- it’s not like Mik actually cares. 

Much.

Things had been different this time around. The dome cracking around them, the Stephen King comparison finally ceasing as the alpha werewolf could see the tears adorning the morning commutes and afternoon delights of the town. As decorative as it seemed to be now, Fidel still had a bit of a Y2K mentally regarding the potential fall of the dome and returned to accepting clients around town.

He donned on a white A-shirt, the A stands for alpha, along with a pair of wide legged pants. Fidel was given a location and a name. There was usually additional details during work like this; positions, preferences, payment. Of course many have their aspersions regarding what Fidel did around town. Though it would likely not be worth his time in explaining, not that the alpha would.

There was a hint of hesitation whether or not Fidel should pull out the stops with this client. He had the essentials on him; condom, morning after potion (It probably shouldn't make that much noise while walking.), and a heart shaped lollipop. He wouldn't really have need for them of course, given the nature of assignment provided by his client. He might have over done it with the sucker, but it was part of Fidel's usual arsenal. The alpha would admit to being a bit hungry, so perhaps bringing along the lollipop wouldn't have been a complete waste.

Unwrapping the heart shaped lollipop, Fidel popped it into his mouth as he scanned around the Beltane bon fire for his client.

"JD?"

Fidel pants heavily as the witch continued to pet the pup. He was sure his breathing alone was the loudest thing in the entire room. For an escort of his making, Fidel was certainly feeling like the client in this scenario. The young alpha tilts his head backwards as he feels the witch's breath against his ear. He knew Aldwin wasn't a vampire, but wouldn't fault him if the omega were to skin his teeth into Fidel's heated skin. Goosebumps raised at the sensation of Aldwin's nails gliding across him, the werewolf feeling his skin itch for them to dig deeper as each deep breath he took pushed his chest and torso closer to Aldwin's touch.

The pup, so used to the rough men and their (often quickly fulfilled) desires, struggled to keep composure as he felt his legs spread further and his dick getting covered in oil. Fidel gives a whine as he yearns for his cock to be covered with other liquids, warmer and thicker than the oil that shined off of his skin.

His cock twitches as he feels each of Aldwin's advances lower and lower on his body. Mentally cataloguing just how many stretches of skin was leaned back up against the omega. Mapping out how much of the werewolf's body was in the witch's control, being held over him or held open. The final mental tally pauses as Aldwin's hands begin to reach towards his crotch. A low groan escapes Fidel's mouth as they skip pass the werewolf's dick. His tongue licking along his mouth as he feels the head of his cock ache and swell with each hair's breadth the witch's hands got closer to the base of his free standing dick. The pup wanted to respond to his handler in earnest, but his larynx constrained much like the muscles that had begun grinding against Aldwin's lap. All Fidel manages to say through gasps is, "Fuck.... Me."

Is that MICHAEL CIMINO? No, that’s FIDEL HERRERA. The 25 year old OAK MOON - WEREWOLF ALPHA MALE is a FORMER MINER, NOW ESCORT. If you ask their friends, they’re known to be FLIRTATIOUS & CHEERFUL, but they urge you to be cautious, because they’re also known to be SELFISH & WRECKLESS. Their friends also say that they’re into PRAISE & BREEDING but don’t even think about trying GORE, WATERSPORTS & SCAT with them.

"Why? You plan to bottom for another?" He asks taking the chance to tease him back. "I thought alphas were too prideful for that," he goes in growling but with lust this time. "There are exercises for that sort of thing, of course, but I have a normal routine. My tightness is completely natural."

"I don't think I'm prideful at all." Fidel continues to fuck his hard alpha cock into the omega, his hips meeting Dunkan's with each thrust forward. Fidel moans loudly, Dunkan's ass surrounding his cock nicely with each thrust. The young alpha grabs at Dunkan's hips pulling him harder into each of Fidel's thrusts. "Just selfish."

"I want all kinds of men, in all kinds of ways."