#mastergrinder

4 of them are on a heist. It doesn’t matter who else is there exactly, because the only person Sokol notices or cares about is Dallas. From the first time they’d met, Sokol had harboured a secret crush on the older, affable Alpha. 

All his life he’d had to fight to be respected, seen as an equal to his mostly Alpha-teammates when he was Russia's star hockey player. It was part of the reason why he was - had to be - so volatile on and off the ice. Sometimes the crack of bone and spatters of crimson against the ice was the only way to get those hot headed Alphas to listen, to recognise his talents, that he didn’t need babying or special treatment because he was an Omega.

It was something that had drawn him to Dallas in the first place - well, that and just how goddamn sexy that man was. The easy way he smiled, eyes crinkling whenever he saw the younger man. The way he didn’t care, didn’t even mention his Omega status, never gave him any shit for it, just quietly and privately made sure he had everything he needed to keep his heats suppressed. 

Of course, things went wrong.

The heist was going well. They’d become arrogant, perhaps. Cocky. So when the alarm got tripped maybe they didn’t take the oncoming assault as seriously as they should have. Maybe Sokol should have been less reckless, treated cover as essential rather than optional. 

At first, the gunshot wound didn’t bother him that much - he’d taken more than his fair share before, after all. But when a pain so crippling made him double over where he was crouched with Dallas behind  cover, he knew he was in trouble.

He was going into a reactive heat. It wasn’t unheard of, but it wasn’t exactly common either. He groaned, rocking himself slightly as if it could do anything to ease the rolling waves of discomfort growing in intensity inside him. 

And of course Dallas being by his side, barking orders over the comms and firing off round after round of ammo was not helping at all. He could scarcely breathe behind his mask, nostrils flaring as he inhaled the thick scent of Dallas’ sweat as the assault wave subsided, and he let out a serious to gods whine when the older man whirled on him and took in what was happening. 

Having that intense stare - even behind the mask - turn on him made Sokol’s stomach baulk once more, and he groaned, clutching at it as if it would make matters better.

It didn’t. Dallas took two steps towards Sokol, then went stock still. Sokol couldn’t tell with the mask in the way, but he imagined it all the same - Dallas sniffing the air, taking in the scent of his growing need.

“... Shit.”

Dallas got on the comms immediately. The way he snapped at Bain to get Bile or Twitch or ANYONE who could drive, goddamnit, to evac them all shouldn’t have been so hot. It shouldn’t have sent desire roaring through Sokol’s veins, shouldn’t have made his hole clench and begin to drip with want. 

The heist was not, in fact, going badly. The entire thing was cursed.

Bile flew in to evacuate them from the scene, but took off with only two of the crew on-board, because of fucking course it was taking heavy hits from the DCPD. 

In the end, Dallas manhandles Sokol out of the bank, down into the sewers. They re-emerge several streets away and he robs a car, driving the pair of them the hell away from the scene of the crime as fast as he could.

Them being so close together, of course, was a curse. Sokol’s pains had only worsened - he could barely even feel his injury anymore. No, his pain was coming from needing to be filled. His mind replayed how Dallas had lifted him as easily as breathing air, crushing him against his chest as they raced away from the bank with no care for loot… how all of it had pushed slick out of him at an alarming pace. How he’d prayed to gods he didn’t believe in that Dallas somehow wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t feel it leaking through his pants. How his clothes now bore traces of Dallas’ scent, all ruggedness and blood and sweat but cologne and tobacco from his civilian life, and he writhed in the passenger seat, needing friction on his cock and something inside him.