we support the gays, david

Jack figured that the rest of the rut would be easy once restraints got involved. He figured wrong, apparently.

The most frustrating thing at this stage is that Simon seems to essentially drift in and out of that rut-drunk state. Even though they're now on day…eight? Nine? It's been longer than either of them would probably like. At least now, Simon is mellowing out more often than not.

But today?

Simon lunges up and snaps at Jack, a frenzied sound escaping his chest. Jack pins him back down by the shoulders for what feels like the fiftieth fucking time.

"Oi! Would it kill you to lay the fuck down when I tell you to?"

Simon's face contorts in anguish, still baring his teeth. "Hngh, m-mate… Hah… H-Have to mark…mmmy mate… Kh— Please…"

He curls his lip a little more, his tongue poking forward the faintest bit. He's trying to smell Jack as closely as possible, and for some goddamn reason, piercing Jack's scent glands half a million times isn't enough for him. The smell can't be wearing off that fast, can it? Maybe it's the hormone injection. Jack never did ask how long that'd last.

Either way, Jack tilts his head down, guarding the more tender side of his neck. "Yeah, well, you should've thought of that before you bit the shit out of me on day one."

Simon replies with another growl. He thrusts his face up towards Jack, despite the hands still weighing him down.

Jack rolls his eyes. "Fuck it, that's it, I'm getting the muzzle."

Maybe he shouldn't have said it out loud. He has to reach over to the nest to find the muzzle, which gives Simon another chance to lunge. He's still cuffed to the bed, and with Jack straddling his waist he doesn't have much mobility, but it's still a jarring motion. Jack feels like he's riding a mechanical bull, only with far greater risk to both himself and the bull.

Wrestling the muzzle onto him is a hassle. One that Jack feels bad for, but he's already committed to it. Apologies pour out of him as he tugs on the elastic straps and fastens the muzzle securely around Simon's head. Then all of a sudden, Simon goes limp.

That's strange… Simon's never been the type to give up halfway through a struggle.

Jack pulls back quickly to assess his work. Simon's eyes are open, but wide and dilated. The muzzle has holes in front of the mouth, so it shouldn't restrict his breathing. In fact, he's taking slow, steady breaths, his chest rising and falling under Jack's palms. Yet apart from that, he doesn't move an inch. He doesn't say a word.

"Uh… Simon?" Jack frowns, confused.

A strangled sound emerges from Simon's throat. Not quite a moan, not quite…anything? His eyes start to flutter. His breaths are deep and calm, almost like a machine is breathing for him. Then, when his eyes fall closed, he starts to purr.

"What in the goddamn…?" Jack mouths to himself. Then, speaking to Simon at full volume: "You like the muzzle?"

Simon doesn't respond. He doesn't even open his eyes. Even his purring seems oddly strained. It sets Jack on edge.

"Hey, Simon? Can you hear me?"

And still no answer. It's freaking Jack out a little.

"Fuckin' goddammit…"

He knows it's unwise, but he unfastens the muzzle and pulls it away from Simon's face. He expects Simon to snap at him immediately, to drop the compliant ruse and try to bite him again, but he stays limp. It takes him a few moments to even open his eyes. When he does, his eyelids seem heavy, his eyes glazed over. His purrs lose their rhythm.

"What's your deal, man?" Jack tries to ask again.

"Uhh…" Simon moans. He swallows slowly and licks his lips. It's like he just woke up from a deep nap, the sort where you wake up not knowing what day it is. As he comes back to himself, he wrinkles his nose and works his jaw, a motion that transforms into a yawn.

(Goddamn his teeth are sharp. But Jack tries not to focus on that.)

Simon moans again. "Guh… I…uh… Hm… Th-The…muzzle… Ugh…"

"Yeah, I figured that." Jack gestures emphatically with the muzzle still in his hand.

"It's…um…" Simon wrinkles his nose again. His residual arm is still unrestrained, and he tries his best to rub his face against his shoulder. He grimaces, though, when the thick scales plating that arm scratch his face. "Ugh. Muzzle's…tight around…my nose."

"What, and that's the problem?"

Simon hums uncertainly. "Not comfortable, but…felt…good?" Something approximating a grin plays at his lips, a breath of laughter escaping him. "U-Uh, um… I'm dizzy. F-Foggy. Head was…full…" Almost too quietly for Jack to hear, he murmurs, "It feels nice…"

Jack blinks.

"Are you telling me you've got a nose fetish??"

Simon bursts into a fit of giggles. It's so sudden, but it's adorable, even as he bares his teeth and grimaces a little. "Fuck, no. 'S not what I meant…"

He's still grinning when Jack brings the muzzle back to Simon's face. Not to put it back on, just to see how it fits. It's a generic plastic mold, not custom-built for Simon's face, and his nose is a little too wide for the plastic to accommodate. Looking a little closer, the mask seems to press against the weird little black spots around Simon's nose and upper lip. He has them on the exposed not-quite-almost-gums that the teeth on his cheek sprout from, too. But the muzzle would surely hurt after a while, with Simon's nose being just slightly too big.

Jack lifts the mask away and gently rubs those spots with his thumb and forefinger. His intent is just to soothe the pressure the mask would have left, but Simon's eyes flutter and glaze over again, a purr dragging itself from his throat.

"That feel good, hm?"

Simon hums affirmatively, letting his eyes close again. "F-Fuzzy. Weird…mmph…"

Feeling bold, Jack applies a little more pressure. Almost instantly, Simon's jaw goes slack, and Jack can see his tongue lolling in his mouth. His eyes open just long enough for Jack to see them rolling back in his head. Simon sighs sharply, his lungs settling back into that deep, almost mechanical breathing pattern. He purrs again, much louder this time. He looks like he's in ecstasy.

And when Jack looks behind him on a whim, he proves himself right. Simon is hard again. Which isn't the craziest thing in the world when he's this deep into rut, but he's leaking precum already.

Jack can't help but smirk when he pulls his hand away. "Really looks like you've got a nose fetish."

The moment Simon shakes off his stupor, he flails impotently with his residual arm, as if to smack Jack. All he does is make Jack laugh.

"Shut up," Simon slurs. He swallows, tilting his head back against the bed. "P-Put it back on…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" Simon insists.

"Alright…" Jack shrugs.

This time, Jack doesn't have to work against Simon thrashing as he affixes the muzzle. He makes sure it's not too tight. Pulling back to see Simon's face, he asks, "How's that?"

"Hmmf…" is the closest thing to a reply he gets. Already, Simon's eyes are flickering again, as if he's about to pass out. When Jack lets go of his head, it drops like a rock against the pillow.

"Good, then," Jack guesses.

He scoots down the bed, situating himself between Simon's legs. His cock seems even harder, somehow. Jack takes hold of it, intently watching Simon's eyes close yet again. He emits a loud, gravelly purr, his cock throbbing in Jack's hand.

It's a shame the muzzle covers most of Simon's face. Jack would love to see Simon's lips part in bliss as he comes undone at Jack's hand. He's seen it a hundred times this week, but it never gets old. Scales and scars be damned, Simon is just so damn pretty when he's in the throes of pleasure.

The muzzle looks flimsy. One of those disposable medical things, like the neck guards it came with. Opaque sheets of plastic layered over a thin frame, with air holes around the cheeks. The reinforcement piece along the nose is what's keeping pressure over those strange sensitive spots. The longer Jack considers the muzzle, the more a comparison comes into focus.

"It kinda looks like a pup mask," he muses. "One of those… I dunno." He's not sure where the thought even came from. He's probably never seen a pup hood outside of a pride march, and even then, only from a distance.

Simon's purring falters as he mewls loudly, followed by a lower, curt huff of air. It almost sounds like a bark, though maybe that's due to the train of thought he's already wandering down.

Jack raises an eyebrow, circling the slit of Simon's cock until he feels him throb. "Oh?" he smirks. "Did that get to you, pup?"

Simon's brows furrow a little as he releases the most pathetic sound Jack has maybe ever heard, keening airily as precum gushes over Jack's fingers.

How interesting.

"D'aww, you're adorable. You wanna be my pretty puppy, Simon?"

Again, Jack wishes he could see Simon's mouth as he pries another beautiful whimper out of him. In the meantime, he settles for resting his free hand over Simon's chest. His purrs are so damn loud, completely uncontrolled, interrupted by incoherent murmuring.

"Ffh— Hmm… M-Msss— aah… Maahhh…sffff…t-tuhhh…"

"What was that? Speak up, pet…"

Yet another high, sharp whine cuts its way out. Simon's head lolls to the side, one of his eyes cracking open. He's gazing off into space, whispering breathily, so quietly that Jack can barely parse what he's babbling about through the muzzle.

"Mhh—aster…master… Master… hfff… Master, master, m-ah— m-m-asterrr…"

Jack's eyes widen with interest, and he's sure his pupils are dilating almost comically. He can't be hearing that correctly.

He subconsciously tightens his grasp around Simon's cock, his free hand rushing to unbuckle the muzzle. He tugs it away from Simon's face, massaging the indentation it already left over his nose. Strings of saliva connect both his mouths to the inside of the mask, and the sight goes straight to Jack's groin.

"Lemme hear you louder, pup," he urges. His voice suddenly feels much harsher, his mouth dry.

"Master," Simon repeats, unimpeded by the mask. His eyes blink open, still glassy, but now full of such open want that Jack's heart pounds. "Mfh, ohh, M-Master, god, please…"

A ravenous growl crawls from Jack's chest. He's suddenly quite sure he's never been this horny in his entire life.

"Hmm?" he sighs, voice now even lower, huskier. His hand slips down to Simon's neck, nails digging into his scent gland. Oh, how it sets his teeth on edge now. "Fuck… Is that how it is, little pup? Wanna be a good boy for Master? Wanna be owned, do ya?"

Simon screws his eyes shut, letting out a downright pitiful shrill whine. God, just when Jack thinks he can't sound any more helpless, he outdoes himself with a noise like that.

"Y— ohhh, yea— yes… Master, fuckkk…" He whines again, sounding for all the world like a needy, shivering street dog. He tips his head back, exposing the side of his neck Jack is bearing down on.

Holy fuck.

Jack may be a beta, but how could anyone resist an invitation like that?

Jack growls again, almost feral with need when he sinks his teeth into Simon's neck. His skin is tough, even though the scales there are only half-formed. It's a strain on his jaw, but he doesn't stop until he tastes blood, and feels Simon tense up under him. And he doesn't stop then, either. Simon certainly didn't. Jack bites down a little harder, laving over the ragged flesh being crushed between his teeth.

He feels Simon's dick pulse violently in his hand. The motion prompts Jack to keep stroking, as tight as he can, a small river of precum easing the way. When Jack switches to Simon's other scent gland - turnabout is fair play, after all - he bites down in tandem with his thumb dragging across the sensitive spines lining the tip of Simon's cock. The resulting whine immediately engraves itself into Jack's memory, to be saved and repeated over and over and over.

"Good boy," Jack groans raggedly into Simon's neck. He licks the tender wound left behind, and marvels at the reddened imprint of his teeth encompassing the scent gland. God, Simon's going to smell like him soon. The thought goes straight to Jack's dick, so hard it hurts like hell.

"God, can I fuck you? I really wanna fuck you," he pants. Simon's rut be damned, Jack has to get on top, right now if not sooner.

Simon looks back at him with watery, pleading eyes and another tragic whine. "Hng, no, want— hn, Master— Mate— S-Scent…my scent…" He bares his teeth again with a quiet, pained growl.

"Aww… Puppy wants to bite me again?" Jack cradles Simon's cheek, pouting in mock disappointment and affecting his voice: "That's not what good puppies do, is it?"

Simon blinks away tears and shakes his head minutely. "Wa-aanna be good… Mate… Master…"

Just to be a little extra mean, Jack pulls his hand away from Simon's cock. He gasps quietly at the loss, but Jack kisses Simon's forehead as an apology.

"Be a good boy for me, and you can bond me again," Jack croons. "Okay? Is that fair?"

"Yes, yes, th-thank…mmmh…"

"Yeah…" Jack crushes his lips against Simon's, suckling on his tongue until Simon pulls away, shivering. "Will you let me fuck you, pretty pet?"

He doesn't give Simon time to answer before stealing another kiss. He can't help it anymore. He's drunk on his mate's presence, on the power Simon's given him.

He feels Simon nod before he pulls away again to say, "Fuck— Yes… Hnn, f-fuck me…"

Simon lets Jack manhandle him, pushing his knees up and apart. He grabs a random piece of the clothing from the nest and wedges it under Simon to get a better angle. A forgotten packet of lube slides out with the motion. Jack can't help but laugh triumphantly at the perfect timing.

As he lubes up his fingers, Simon lets out a string of reedy whimpers. "Keep touching meee…"

"Patience."

The moment Jack feels sufficiently prepared, he fulfills the request. He takes Simon's cock into one hand, the other pressing a finger gently, slowly, carefully into Simon's hole. The touch draws out a delightfully erotic sob.

"You ever been fucked before, sweet thing?" Jack has to ask. Simon just feels so goddamn tight.

Simon's head rolls to the side, hiding in the crook of his elbow. His breath hitches as Jack circles a finger inside him. "Hah— Uhmm… Yeah… O-Once or twice…"

"Yeah?" Jack smirks. "Was it good?"

A shy, strangled sound escapes him. He shakes his head. "Don't wanna talk about it…"

"Oh, honey…" He plants a kiss to Simon's knee. "What about this? Am I making you feel good? You like this?"

He feels Simon clench around his finger. He lets out another shy moan, screwing his eyes shut as he nods. "Yes, M-Master…"

Jack curses under his breath. He works another finger inside, waiting carefully for Simon to adjust. "God, you have no idea what you're doin' to me when you say that."

Simon exhales sharply. Jack sees a dopey, proud grin flash across his face.

"Um… G-G-Gimme the muzzle again?" he begs, staring at the discarded mask. "Want… Wanna be good…feel good… 'n' safe…"

Jack grins. "My puppy wants his muzzle again?"

He expects and savors Simon's response, a full body shiver and a hopelessly aroused moan. He nods enthusiastically. "God— Yeah… hngh, your good puppy…"

"So good…" Jack sighs. He scissors his fingers in Simon's hole, swipes his thumb over the slit of his cock. Simon jolts like he's been zapped. "Fuck, such a good boy for your Master…"

Simon moans again, more intensely, shuddering so hard Jack almost thinks he's coming. "Master, Master, pleeease… Ahh— M-Muzzle meee…"

Jack wipes his hands off on the bedsheet, since it's a lost cause anyway, before picking up the muzzle again. When he affixes it to Simon's head, he affectionately traces his thumb along Simon's cheekbone. He watches closely as the muzzle works its magic. He's starting to obsess a little over the sight of Simon's eyes unfocusing, eyelids twitching and fluttering as he drifts off into whatever hazy, happy fog he's chasing.

"Good puppy," he sighs.

Simon purrs hard in response. Jack's starting to suspect there's little else he can do in this condition.

That…really shouldn't turn him on as much as it does.

But there's no denying his arousal. His dick throbs painfully, so he scoots back down the bed. His hands get right back to work. Simon's knot is swelling a little by now. When Jack slips his fingers back into Simon, he finds him already far more pliant and relaxed. Three fingers slide in with relative ease.

With only a moment of searching, Jack finds and presses against Simon's prostate. His eyes fly open and he purrs harshly, the sound almost transforming into a rough moan. A surge of precum escapes his cock as it flexes hard in Jack's hand. The longer Jack keeps his fingers crooked just so, giving him that constant steady pressure, the more Simon's limbs quiver uncontrollably.

Jack feels himself grinning like a maniac at the sight, but he can't help it. Simon doesn't seem focused enough to really see him, anyway. "You like that, pup? Feels good, hm?"

Simon does give him a proper moan this time. The sound makes Jack ache with need. God, he could come untouched if Simon keeps making noises like that. An attractive thought, but not as much as the idea of getting to feel him.

So Jack withdraws his fingers, lathering any remaining lube over his cock. He wastes no time pressing himself inside. He squeezes Simon's knot as he pushes forward, and god, now he's the one struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Fuuuuck… Hhhaaanngh…"

He's drawing a blank. What else is there to even say? Simon's tight as a vice around him, so much that Jack swears he can feel Simon's pulse against his cock. When's the last time he fucked someone? Has it ever felt like this? Is it a Simon thing or a rut thing or a pseudo-heat thing or who the fuck even cares? Jack decides he doesn't.

He can't when he draws his hips back, only for Simon to practically swallow him back in. He braces one hand beside Simon's chest, stroking him with the other in time with his thrusts. He's trying to go slow, trying to be gentle, he swears. But…

"Hoh, fuck… Huuungh… 'S like you're made for me… Fuck, such a good pet… Drivin' me fuckin' crazy, oh my god…"

He doesn't even realize when he's speeding up. All of a sudden, he's just pounding into Simon feverishly, and he can't find it in him to slow down. His arms are shaking, so he collapses onto his elbow. Still, he has enough leverage to keep bucking, and Simon takes him so fucking well it feels like a crime.

Simon's eyes are open, but they're absolutely staring through Jack, not at him. His purrs are so loud, such harsh grated sounds almost forcing themselves from his chest. He sounds like a malfunctioning chainsaw. One side of the muzzle is slick with drool, spilling through the air holes over his second mouth. Impulsively, Jack ducks down and kisses him. The muzzle is in the way but fuck it, it's the thought that counts, or something.

"Hh-ah, y-you feel so good you make me fuckin' stupid," Jack grins.

God, he's not going to last long. Simon, it seems, is even closer. His knot feels far fuller than it did a few seconds ago, Jack swears. His hips falter, and he fumbles around semi-blindly with the arm he was just using to brace himself.

"Mmph— Fuck, where's the—"

He cuts himself off when he finds the stroker toy. Simon's breath catches when Jack engulfs his cock with it. Pushing himself back up, he fucks Simon fast and deep, making Simon's eyes roll back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, oh my god," he wheezes. He shoves the toy down over Simon's knot, freeing his hand up to pump the head. "C-Come for me, puppy, fuck, wanna feel ya, hnnng, make a fuckin' mess for me…"

He twists his hand over Simon's tip relentlessly. Simon chokes out the highest, most desperate keening noise as his knot fills up the toy. His legs spasm almost violently when his orgasm hits, streaking his and Jack's chest with his release. He comes like a fucking geyser. And the way he sporadically clenches impossibly tight around Jack's cock pulls him over the edge as well.

Jack cries out low and loud, almost a swear, but mostly just an incoherent growl. He muffles himself against Simon's neck, biting him again as hard as he can manage as he empties himself inside. His head spins, and for a second he could swear the corners of his vision go white. He's barely in control of his body until he comes down. He wishes he had a knot, that he could stay buried in Simon forever.

Alas, his body has other ideas. His dick rapidly checks out and goes soft. It slips out the moment Jack pulls back enough to check on Simon. He's sweating buckets by now, eyes closed, brows furrowed, gasping and purring incessantly.

Jack reaches behind and undoes the buckle, peeling the muzzle off his face once more. There's an angry red mark over the bridge of Simon's nose, now, which Jack caresses apologetically.

"How are y' holdin' up, my good boy?"

Simon's face is covered in drool. His lips look red and plump, like he was biting them. When he opens his eyes again, it takes him forever to refocus. He's an absolute mess. If Jack hadn't just come so hard, he'd be painfully aroused. He drinks in the sight regardless.

"Hhuuuhhh…" Simon moans after a moment. He swallows hard. Pants some more. Closes his eyes again. "Fffuck…"

Jack cradles Simon's cheek. He leans into it, which feels like a good sign. "You okay, Si?"

"Uhh-huh… Hmmnuhhh…"

Jack huffs out a restless laugh. His hand comes up to Simon's forehead. His hair is matted with sweat, and he's still hot as hell. He's been like that all rut. "God, I did a number on you, huh?"

Simon sighs and nods weakly. He swallows again, tongue peeking out as he does. He works his jaw until he can keep his mouth from going slack.

"'Szzzgood," Simon finally slurs. "H'm'okay…"

"Maybe I left the muzzle on too long…"

Simon shakes his head. "Uh-uh. Jus'…huhh… C-C-Coming real…hhhard…"

"You sound like your fuckin' brain's exploding," Jack laughs, a little hysterical.

Simon wheezes with giddy laughter as a huge grin overtakes him. "Might be."

Something in the back of Jack's brain is pulling on alarm bells, sowing seeds of fear and paranoia. He hopes like hell this isn't permanent, that he hasn't done Simon real harm.

"Mmf. Feels good," Simon smiles. His chest shakes again with silent laughter.

He beams up at Jack, still slightly dazed. Jack can't recall ever seeing Simon this relaxed. It's enough to make his heart slam into the back of his throat.

"Good?" Jack repeats. His hand climbs to Simon's scalp, earning a deeply satisfied purr as he threads his fingers through Simon's hair. "I'm glad I did right by you. You were so good for me. Such a good pet. God, I—"

Jack bites down on the words in his throat, forcing out a breathless chuckle in their place. He's not ready to say that. Nothing so saccharine, certainly not mid-rut. Not until Simon's in his right mind. Maybe Jack might even feel halfway ready to visit that thought by then.

He's not sure how to feel about how readily it almost slipped out, though. How easily he almost said 'I love you.'

Simon whines needily, tilting his head into Jack's hand, which has gone still. "Keep petting me…"

Five days into Simon's rut, when the sun has long since set, when Jack is pinned between Simon's sleeping body and the mattress, he has a thought. One that has been on the boil for a while. One that he can't ignore anymore.

Maybe being Simon's rut partner was, in fact, a bad idea.

His mouth tastes awful. But with Simon sleeping on top of him, and the water glass just out of reach, there's nothing he can do to rectify that issue. His entire lower body aches. Even if he could push Simon off him, there's not much he can do when he's knotted.

Well. He could probably fix that, with how thoroughly fucked he is at this point. It just wouldn't be comfortable. And again, he's pinned down. Simon's probably almost twice as heavy as him. And desperately clingy at this point.

Jack was barely able to negotiate about moving all those fucking eggs. Simon's hoodie and Jack's sweater were sacrificed to make a mini nest on the floor in front of Simon's closet. Still within Simon's line of sight, but not taking up space on the bed. There's nothing they can do about the sheets, though. Jack's probably going to burn them the moment Simon's rut calms down.

God. It hurts to admit, but Jack really underestimated how taxing a rut would be. But people go through mating cycles all the time! Banking up some sick leave and taking a week off is fairly common, and people come back no worse for wear, so it can't be that bad. But now Jack is just kicking himself for not taking the warnings more seriously. He's getting a little nervous that his obituary is going to say something along the lines of 'fucked to death by an alpha in turbo-rut.'

In the middle of his bewildered, exhausted contemplation, he hears a grating ba-ding! noise from somewhere close to his elbow. His phone is still in the pocket of his trousers. With a little bit of awkward fumbling, he's able to retrieve it. And despite being off the charger for almost a week, it still has some juice left. The wonders of futuristic technology, right?

The newest notification is from David. Jack bashes his head against the mattress. Another thing to kick himself for - not consulting the only other alpha on the crew before he got himself into this. Three simple words:

>Hey, you okay?

Jack could almost laugh. But his phone has limited power, so he ought to reply fast.

>>NO. NOT OK. BIG OUCH

>>Send restraints

Jack blinks wearily. How fucking badly did he have to misspell 'reinforcements' for it to autocorrect to that?

>>*reinforcements

>>Honestly do both 😑

>"Big ouch" dude?

>>Fuck off man I've never been knotted before

>>Why didn't you warn me how bad it is

>1. I've never been knotted either so I wouldn't know. 2. I would've TRIED if you talked to me and not just the captain. Idiot.

>But if you're serious I can swing by and get you supplies in a second. You need food? Painkillers?

>>OMG please send pizza. Dying for carbs. Will pay you back I swear

>👍

With the promise of decent food on the way, Jack lets his heavy eyes fall closed and puts his phone face down against the mattress. He swears he's just going to rest his eyes for a moment.

He should know better by now.

---

Jack didn't think David would actually send restraints.

Then again, they came in a hospital bag with Finn's name on it. That makes more sense, then. Especially given how…clinical they look, for want of a better word. Padded cuffs, a muzzle, neck guards (haha, a bit late for that.) There's even a weird compression-cuff looking thing with a chain on the end, complete with a note about how to fix it to Simon's residual arm, if you really need to lock him down…but Jack got pizza grease on the instructions, so he writes it off and prays the cuffs will be enough.

Getting them on to Simon is a conundrum. When Simon is still sleeping, Jack carefully hides the restraints under some of the clothes Simon has piled up around the bed. When he stirs at the break of dawn, he's awake and not-quite-alert. Just aware enough to pull his knot out, roll Jack onto his back, and pull him into a sleepy kiss. He's not as bitey as usual, but once he's ready for another round, that's likely to change.

Jack lets himself enjoy those sweet, lazy kisses for a while, then pulls back, softly gasping for air. He pats Simon's cheek, dragging his thumb over deep green scales. "Hey. Si. Do you trust me?"

Simon purrs affirmatively, stealing another kiss. Jack laughs into it, but pushes Simon's face back up and away. He puts his other hand on Simon's waist, carefully nudging him to the side.

"Roll over. Onto your back," he says, when Simon won't budge.

"Oh," Simon responds sheepishly.

With only a bit of fumbling, Jack gets to straddle Simon's lap. Already, he can feel Simon's dick beginning to stir. But Simon looks up at him with dilated eyes, mouth slightly agape. His chest rises and falls calmly. Maybe he doesn't need to be restrained?

Oh, Jack absolutely knows better than to trust that thought by now. So he dips down to recapture Simon's lips. Simon moans roughly into Jack's mouth. It's hard to tell which of them is purring, not that either of them cares.

God, but this is nice. Simon has gotten a little better at kissing over just the past few days. He sucks Jack's lower lip into his mouth, swiping his tongue over it. Jack exhales sharply, pulling away for just a moment.

"Good boy," Jack whispers between kisses, on a whim.

Simon releases a husky groan into Jack's mouth in reply, wrapping his arm around Jack's shoulders. Jack smiles, carefully prying Simon's arm way and locking their fingers together.

"Hmm, you like that, do you?" Jack purrs. Then, testing the waters: "You like hearing how good you are?"

Simon sighs shakily, staring up at Jack like even he can't believe how much he likes it. Jack kisses him again, swallowing his purrs and moans. He slowly manipulates Simon's arm until it's resting on the mattress above his head. He rubs his thumb against Simon's wrist, a little motion he hopes Simon will interpret as 'stay there.'

He distracts Simon with slow, deep kisses, while he retrieves the padded handcuff. It's almost too easy to secure one end around Simon's bedpost, and close the other softly around Simon's wrist.

That finally gets Simon's attention. He breaks the kiss and turns to stare at the cuff with wide eyes. Jack purrs instinctively, caressing Simon's temple.

"Shh, hey, hey," he coos, until Simon tilts his head the slightest bit and looks back to Jack. Jack stares back at him affectionately. He pulls a strand of hair behind Simon's ear. A few singular strands stay trapped between the teeth on his cheek, so Jack pulls them out too.

"Don't be scared," Jack pleads. "I won't hurt you, you know?"

Simon's eyes dart between Jack and the cuff. "…Why?"

Jack cringes bashfully. A self conscious grin worms onto his face. "I, uh… You've done a number on me already, Si. I need a break."

Simon's eyes widen like a sad, heartbroken little kid. "Don't go," he begs.

"I'm not goin' anywhere!" Jack cradles Simon's face with both hands. It's a tiny bit awkward with Simon's teeth, but it's the thought that counts.

"I'm still here for you, mate…" He tries not to think about how hot his face is, just from calling Simon that. "Just let me work at my own pace. Okay? I'm still here."

Simon whines in the back of his throat, but after a moment, he nods slowly.

"Good boy," Jack repeats. He kisses Simon again, swallowing the mewl that escapes in response to the praise.

The chains of the handcuff clink when Simon tries to move his arm, but the restraint holds fast. Jack feels Simon's breath quicken. He purrs into Simon's mouth, pressing their chests together to let him feel the vibration a little more.

After a moment, Jack pulls away, just enough to take in the sight beneath him. Simon's pupils are blown wide. His unmutated eye is such a deep, dark brown that his iris looks completely black. Even his mutated eye, with its usually slitted pupil, is round and open like a cat's. There's a nervous, hopeful look in those eyes as Simon purrs to himself, quiet and arrhythmic. Jack knows he's staring, knows Simon probably wants him to keep touching him, but he doesn't move. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack sees Simon's hand curl into a fist.

"You gonna stay still for me?"

Simon lets out a short moan when he nods. "I-I can try…"

Jack drags his fingers up Simon's side. "That's all I ask." Well, that and one day without getting his ass destroyed, maybe.

Simon's ribs are especially sensitive, and Jack knows this. He tries not to touch them, but his hand wanders idly a little too high, skirting over the skin covering his nonfunctional gills. Simon jerks away from the contact with a sharp gasp. His staccato purring rises in volume.

"Sorry."

"A-Again," Simon says.

Jack cocks his head. "Touch your gills again?"

Simon nods enthusiastically. Jack runs the pads of his fingers across his gills, but the motion only elicits the smallest shiver. Jack reaches the middle gill and, watching Simon's face closely, he carefully presses his fingers under the gill flap. To Jack's knowledge, the gill flaps are about as sensitive as the rest of his body, but the skin under them, where the actual openings should be, is far thinner and more delicate. Not that Jack has ever felt it before now.

But the reaction it elicits is magical. Simon screws his eyes shut with a gasp, twitches away from Jack's fingers, and outright squeals. A string of high-pitched moans escape with his breaths. "Oh…"

Jack plants his hands on either side of Simon's ribcage and does it again. He pins Simon down gently, dragging his thumbs under the flaps and over the thin, sensitive skin. Simon's hitched breaths and moans as he squirms under the onslaught is like music to Jack's ears.

"Ah! Aa-ahh! Ff— Uhhh— S-S-Sto-ooop, ngh—"

Jack pulls his hands away, but Simon still shivers, chest rising and falling hard. When he opens his eyes, he looks up at Jack with such hunger that Jack feels a stab of arousal in his gut.

Simon stares at him for a moment, mouth agape, until he suddenly rocks his hips up into Jack's. "F-Fuck me," he begs, when he finds the strength for words again. "Mmh— Need you. Need you now… Please…"

Jack fights the urge to grind against Simon's dick. Instead, he leans over to kiss Simon again, working his mouth over Simon's jaw, his neck, his scent gland. The temptation to bite down is overwhelming, but Jack can't bring himself to. Not yet. But god, the concentrated scent sets his teeth on edge. He takes it out on Simon's clavicle, biting down until Simon moans and he hears the chain go taut again.

"Stay still," Jack teases.

Not that he expects Simon to comply, when he closes his mouth over one of Simon's nipples. How fortunate he is, that the scales covering Simon's body didn't get rid of these. The moment Jack gives him any suction, Simon arches into his mouth with a deep groan. He's so responsive, so shameless, that Jack can't help but tease his nipples relentlessly. He only stops when they're both puffy and slick with spit, when Simon is humping Jack's stomach and begging incoherently.

"Fuck," Jack exhales, "you must be even more sensitive than me."

Simon keens pitifully. "Neeeed…"

"Yeah? Need what?" Jack grins. The answer is still poking him in the stomach, but he skates his fingers up and down Simon's torso anyway, until he spasms and bucks.

"Ghf— Want— Need— Have…got…nghf— Hhuuh— Mn-Mate… Jack… Please!"

Hearing Simon so tongue-tied gives Jack a shit-eating grin. "God, rut's really cooking your brain, huh?"

"Jack!" Simon whines indignantly. He tugs against the handcuff to no avail. He grits his teeth, his breaths shifting from thin and airy to deeper, harsher growling. "C-Come on!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Jack chuckles. "You're just so fun to tease."

But teasing an alpha in rut is starting to feel a bit like poking a bear in a flimsy trap, so Jack figures foreplay is over. Simon's dick is rock hard. The lube packets are gone - or if there are any left, they're scattered to the wind - so Jack spits into his hand to ease the way.

As soon as Jack starts to stroke him, Simon throws his head against the pillow. "Fuuuuhhh— Fuhh— Th-Thank you, thankyouthankyouthfuunghh…"

"Needy," Jack murmurs to himself with a smirk.

Somehow, this is the first time Jack's been able to have a good, long look at Simon's dick. It's been blowing Jack's back out for the better part of a week, but it feels different, somehow, to hold it in his hand. The spikes that line the head are soft and fleshy, and Simon's breath catches when Jack gives them special attention. They're intimidating and kind of unpleasant to look at, but it's hard to argue with results.

"These are sensitive, huh?"

Simon nods. "Yeah— Ye-Yeah, a lot…"

Ever-so-carefully, Jack drags his thumbnail against the spikes, and Simon's hips buck enticingly. He moves his hand lower, thumbing the long ridges along the shaft. "What about these?"

"Hng— Uh— I…dunno… Uhhhhnn, more, more…"

"So demanding," Jack drawls, but he has every intention of complying. He brings his other hand down to squeeze Simon's knot. It throbs under his touch. "Feels good when I squeeze this?"

"Yesyesyes it— duuuuugh— It does, oh god— Harder!"

Jack chuckles at Simon's enthusiasm. He shimmies down the bed as far as possible, only wincing a little when he feels the huge dried stain from the egg incident. It's been a while since he's given head to someone with a dick, but Jack takes Simon into his mouth all the same. At the same time, he squeezes Simon's knot with both hands. He's rewarded with the feeling of Simon's whole body going taut, and the sight of him arching off the bed.

Simon is rapidly reduced to incoherent babbling, occasionally broken up with purrs and growls and clicking. Jack is sure he's trying to beg for more and more. He wishes he could deliver, but Simon feels huge in his mouth. He circles the head with his tongue, giving those sensitive spikes as much attention as Simon can handle. In moments, Jack feels precum bubble into his mouth. It tastes so similar to Simon's smell, and Jack can't help but moan.

When he drags his tongue over Simon's slit, somehow only then does he notice how long it is. It'd have to be, he realizes, to lay those weird fucking eggs from before. Before he can second guess himself, he sticks his tongue inside the slit as far as it will comfortably go. It only feels like half an inch or so, but wriggling his tongue makes Simon yelp and moan severely. Jack can't tell if he's crying out for more or less, but he errs on the side of caution and withdraws.

The knot is so warm and firm in Jack's hands. He can feel it throbbing in time with Simon's pulse. Simon is trying to thrust into Jack's mouth, so he readjusts until his arms are wrapped around Simon's thighs, gently pinning him to the mattress as he clasps his hands tighter around the knot.

"Sssuh— Ahhh— Sogood… So fucking…" Simon cuts himself off with a high keening sound. "Don't stop!" he begs.

And who would Jack be to deny a mate in need?

He spits on Simon's length before taking him back into his mouth with a moan. This time, he feels brave enough to bob his head. His jaw strains, still not quite back into the swing of things, and his teeth catch on Simon's ridges once or twice, but he doesn't complain. Jack figures that if he slobbers and squeezes Simon's knot enough, that'll make up for him being out of practice.

And he's right, if the sounds coming out of Simon are anything to go by. God, he's loud. Jack can't help but wonder if he's always this reactive, or if it's just a rut thing. Admitting it feels like forbidden ground, but he desperately wants to find out.

Jack bobs up and down a little faster, drools a little more, works his tongue that much harder against the shaft. Before too long, Jack feels Simon's knot swell, prying his fingers apart the smallest bit. He squeezes even tighter, savoring Simon's long, wounded groan.

"Close!" Simon warns. "Ohhhhh god I wanna knot you! Please can I— ngh— Lemme— Please—"

Simon plants his feet against the bed. Jack has to shift his weight to keep Simon's hips secured. He hollows his cheeks and pushes his head down, down, until his lips meet his hands around the knot. Simon's tip tickles the back of Jack's throat, and he gags loudly, fighting the urge to reel back for as long as he can. Alas, his gag reflex wins out too fast. He coughs wetly and draws back until he's just sucking on the tip.

He looks up as he flicks his tongue across the slit again, but Simon's eyes are already closed, his face drawn tight in helpless pleasure. His fist is wrapped tight around the chain of the handcuff, the only thing close enough to hold onto as he hurtles inevitably towards his peak.

The first and only warning Jack gets is the pounding pulse in Simon's knot. Then a thick burst of cum soaks Jack's tongue, and Simon roars in ecstasy. The sound makes Jack's hair stand on end, and he moans, frantically gulping down cum as fast as it floods his mouth. Jack presses his thumbs against the knot as it fills his hands, feeling it pulse violently until it swells to its full size.

Eventually, Simon's shuddering calms down a bit, the peak of his orgasm subsiding, but he doesn't stop coming. Jack can only take so much. He pulls back for air, but he can barely breathe at the sight of cum persistently dripping down the side of Simon's still-twitching cock.

"God, I thought you'd be done by now," Jack pants. He stares, transfixed, even as he feels his own cock suddenly straining for attention.

Simon whines in the back of his throat when Jack releases him to shuffle further up the bed. "No no— more— please…"

Jack straddles Simon, pressing their cocks together and taking them into both hands. Simon's constant leaking makes for more than enough lube, and the textures of his cock are so strange and enticing to rub against.

"Oh, fuck…"

That's about as articulate as Jack gets before he chases his own pleasure. Simon moans between subtonal growls as Jack grinds against him, working his hands over both their cocks. He comes embarrassingly fast, spraying across Simon's stomach with a harsh, abrupt groan. He keeps rutting through his orgasm until the pleasure becomes discomfort, and his dick starts to soften.

"Nnngh… Good boy," Jack sighs, lazily grinning down at Simon.

Simon stares back at him with wide, wet eyes. With a whine, he begs, "K-Keep touching me…"

"Yeah? Touch you where?"

Simon's eyes flutter shut. "My knot…hngh… Fuck… Wanted it inside you…" he sobs.

Jack scoffs, squeezing the knot in both hands again and earning a strangled moan of satisfaction. "I'm not letting you knot my mouth, dumbass."

He looks at the cuff again. The chain is slack now, but Simon still has a finger hooked over it. "How's the cuff? Not too tight?" Jack asks.

Simon glances up at it, sighing sharply through his nose. He shakes his head, then looks back at Jack, pouting. "Wanna touch you so bad…"

"I bet," Jack says sympathetically.

"Wh…Why can't I touch you?" Simon asks desperately.

"'Cause you've blown my back out like, fifty times this week," Jack shrugs, a confused smile playing at his lips. "I told you before. Did you forget?"

Simon lets out a dry sob, turning his head away. "M'sorry…"

"You're alright, love."

Jack's entire face burns when he realizes what he said. He's not sure Simon heard him. He's not sure if he hopes he did or didn't. He clears his throat, letting one hand caress Simon's inner thigh for a moment.

"You're bein' so good for me. Such a good boy, aren't you?"

He watches Simon's face tighten, a barely perceptible shudder rolling through his body.

"I knew you liked praise," he grins.

It's true. Simon always seems to withdraw when he hears it, replying with a mumbled 'thank you' at best. But while it's hard to see under his scales, the way his face reddens is a treat to behold.

Jack looks back down to Simon's dick. It's starting to go a little soft, but it's still leaking, the knot still full. Letting go of it wouldn't be comfortable if Simon's still coming. Not for the first time, Jack is a little envious of alphas and their stupid ruts and their stupidly long orgasms.

After thinking for a moment, Jack lets go anyway, sliding off the bed. God, it's nice to have halfway stable legs for once. Even if Simon's forlorn whine breaks Jack's heart a bit.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

And he is as fast as possible when he darts to his own room, washes the toy he needs (as if hygiene is still an active concern six days into an intense rut,) and returns to Simon's bed. But Simon is still a whining mess by the time Jack returns. Jack kisses him as an apology, letting Simon nip him a bit before pulling away to slide the still-wet stroker over Simon's cock. For a moment he's terrified the knot will tear it, but it sinks down and stays there without complaint. Simon shudders with relief, groaning as the pressure engulfs his knot.

"There," Jack chirps. He can finally embrace Simon again, crawling on top of him and kissing his unmutated cheek. "Isn't this better?"

Simon purrs in reply, capturing Jack's lips with his own. All the proximity and comfort, with none of the pain.