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Dimitri can smell it from outside Felix’s door.
Actually, Dimitri can smell it from down the hallway. He’s heading up to bed after a bath, but he stops at the foot of the stairs, nostrils flaring as the scent hits him. It’s probably not that it’s that strong, or at least Dimitri hopes—but Dimitri knows Felix’s scent better than his own.
His alpha stirs.
It isn’t Felix’s first heat since they’ve been at Garreg Mach, but his previous ones had all been spent in the heat/rut room in the infirmary, taken care of by Manuela. This must have come on early, caught him unawares.
His feet lead him outside Felix’s door, following the scent like a dog with a steak. The wooden door does nothing to lessen the smell, and Dimitri has to stop and take some deep breaths through his mouth to try and calm himself down. It would be so easy to lose himself to his alpha now, but above all things he is a prince. He needs to check on Felix, make sure he’s alright.
He leans his mouth close to the door; he doesn’t want to speak too loudly, both because it’s late—but also from a selfish desire to keep this to himself. Felix’s scent is stronger the closer he gets, and his hand clenches into a fist as he fights to keep his voice level.
“Felix?”
There’s no answer, although there’s a thunk against the door, as if Felix had thrown something at it. Dimitri tries again.
“Felix?”
He hears a muffled, “No,” come from inside the room, but it’s shaky and has none of the derision in it that Dimitri has no doubt Felix wanted it to.
“I’m coming in,” Dimitri says firmly, opening the door before Felix can argue back.
Entering the room, Dimitri is immediately smacked in the face with the intensity of Felix’s scent, pine and smoke and something else Dimitri can’t identify, but that always reminds him of freshly-fallen snow. He stumbles back as if he’s been hit, mouth falling open as he breathes in his favourite scent in the world.
“Get out,” Felix says, muffled into his pillow. Dimitri closes the door so he has something to collapse against; he tries to get his bearings, but as he is Felix sits up and throws a pillow at him.
“Get out!” He shouts again. Dimitri catches the pillow automatically, and out of curiosity he brings it to his nose. He’s hit with something sweet and flowery—Annette. The scent is weak, though; the pillow hasn’t been recently scented, but it’s enough to give Dimitri a reprieve from Felix’s scent, and he looks up with a clearer head.
Felix is on his bed, which has been transformed into a haphazard nest. Dimitri can see (and smell, if he concentrates) items from Sylvain, Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette shoved in amongst Felix’s things. He’s sitting up with his knees tucked to his chest, hair half spilled out of his bun and hanging around his face and over his shoulders. His eyes are bright, and they glare at Dimitri fiercely.
Dimitri’s alpha stirs again, and this time it’s harder to push him down.
“Boar,” Felix says, but there’s no fight in it.
“Your heat’s started,” Dimitri says, rather uselessly. Felix doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes. He’s wearing an old sleep shirt of Sylvain’s, and it hangs off him, neck and collarbones bared to the world. Dimitri wants to tear it off him. All these other scents, clouding Felix’s. “We need to get you to the infirmary.”
Felix blinks and sways slightly. Dimitri’s scent and pheromones are starting to have an effect on him, Dimitri can tell from the way his scent changes. It’s no longer broadcasting, looking for an alpha—now it’s found one, and Felix’s omega is blasting the full weight of Felix’s scent at him. That’s the best proof that one was often at the mercy of their secondary gender, as there was no way Felix would ever willingly signal to Dimitri like this.
Felix shakes his head, slowly like he’s moving through water. “No.”
Always so infuriatingly stubborn. “Felix, you can’t stay here. You’ll send the whole dormitory into a frenzy. We need to get you to the heat room and to Manuela.” The heat/rut room was well-equipped; plenty of extra oil if needed, water and high-caloric food to eat in between, and it was heavily magicked to keep scents inside.
Felix shakes his head again, and Dimitri finds his patience waning. “Don’t be ridiculous, Felix,” he snaps. “You can’t stay here. You’ll have every alpha in the vicinity breaking down your door.” Anger and possessiveness rear their heads inside Dimitri at the thought. “I’m not leaving you here. If you don’t come willingly I’ll simply throw you over my shoulder.”
Yes, says his alpha. Yes, grab him, take him, mine—
But Felix moves, and Dimitri pushes those thoughts down deep. He will not be the beast Felix so often calls him, not in this. Felix gets up on wobbly legs and Dimitri holds out a hand to help; Felix curls his lip and bats it away. He puts on his shoes and a better fitting shirt, but before he opens the door, Dimitri says, “Wait.”
It comes out as a snarl. It comes out as a command. Felix stops in his tracks, but Dimitri can sense his anger in the rigid set of his shoulders, can smell it in the sour tinge to his scent.
“I’m sorry,” Dimitri says, and he is. He never uses alpha commands. “But you can’t go out smelling like that, I’ll be fighting people off you.” And I won’t be gentle, he thinks darkly, bristling just at the thought of others laying their hands on Felix.
Felix sways a little and looks at Dimitri with dilated pupils, but he still manages to say, “Don’t ever use a command on me again.”
“Of course,” Dimitri says. “I do apologize, Felix. But please let me scent you. If you head out like this…” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Felix is very aware of what will happen if he walks through campus with his omega shouting FUCK ME. It’s why he steps away from the door and lets Dimitri approach him.
He swipes his own wrists over Felix’s, rubbing their scent glands together. Dimitri’s scent is strong, always has been, and should do a solid job of masking Felix’s heat, at least until they get to the infirmary. He lifts his hand to swipe over Felix’s neck, and he doesn’t miss the way Felix shivers and arches towards him. No matter what he says, he can’t deny his physiology.
Once Felix’s scent is masked to Dimitri’s satisfaction, he takes his cape and swings it over Felix’s shoulders, an extra layer of protection. He soaks the sight in greedily, of Felix clad in his cape, smelling like Dimitri. A self-indulgent wish. Then he opens the door and ushers Felix under his arm, walking between him and the line of doors, putting as much space between him and everyone else. He doesn’t want anyone else to see Felix, to smell him. This is a sight that Dimitri wants to covet.
Mine. The word echoes through his brain again. It’s not a new thought; it’s a thought that he’s been fighting against since they both presented, that Felix was his. His friend, his shield, his right hand, his omega, his mate. Built for each other, made for each other. His, his, his.
Felix tries not to lean against him, but it gets harder as he sinks deeper into his heat. There are a few people in their path as they head to the infirmary, but they keep a wide berth, no doubt warned back by Dimitri’s scent and pheromones blasting out, covering up the smell of his omega in heat.
His omega. Mine.
These thoughts are getting louder, and harder to fight back. Every second spent beside Felix is sending Dimitri deeper, making his instincts go haywire. The alpha inside him is shouting that Felix is his, and it’s getting harder to argue against it, not least because he doesn't want to.
Dimitri bustles Felix up the stairs and down the hall to the room off of the infirmary. Dimitri is well acquainted with it, of course, uses it during his ruts, but it’s set up differently now, stocked for an omega. Dimitri is thankful for that, eyes roving over the breeding bench and the heat aids. There’s a bed in the corner as well, with plenty of soft blankets and pillows; Felix stumbles over to it, Dimitri’s cape still wrapped around him as he curls up on the bed.
“Get Manuela,” he says. Dimitri stays rooted to the spot and very much does not get Manuela. On the contrary, he reaches behind him and turns the lock on the door.
Felix’s eyes fly open and find him, pinning him with an amber gaze. “Boar,” he says, voice rough and jagged. “Get Manuela.”
His alpha gnashes its teeth at the thought of another alpha taking care of Felix during his heat. Of his omega. “Manuela won’t be able to help you properly,” Dimitri says, fighting to keep his head clear. “You know she won’t.” Not the way Dimitri would be able to. Manuela won’t be able to take care of him properly, won’t be able to fuck him and knot him and breed him the way he needs.
Felix sits up with a struggle, drawing Dimitri’s cape around him tighter without seeming to notice. “What are you doing?” He asks, as Dimitri advances towards him. He tries to keep up his glare, but Dimitri can smell the truth on him, can smell the arousal pooling between his legs, slicking his thighs and signalling to Dimitri from across the room. He keeps moving forward until he reaches the bed, kneeling on it as he reaches out. He pushes the cape off of Felix’s shoulders and pushes him back so he’s laying on it.
“Boar—”
“Quiet,” Dimitri says, voice firm. It’s not a command, but Felix quiets anyway, at the mercy of his omega more and more as he sinks deeper and deeper into his heat.
He’s so pretty. It’s distracting sometimes. Dimitri reaches out with shaking hands and slips Felix’s clothes off, and Felix lets him.
That’s all it takes to snap the fragile strand of sanity Dimitri was clinging to. The sight of Felix—bare chest, pert nipples, scars decorating his lithe, muscular body. And then lower still, between his legs, his small cock and wet cunt, staining his thighs and blasting the most delectable scent through the room. Looking over his body, framed against the dark blue of Dimitri’s cloak, his alpha breaks loose, and Dimitri’s thoughts consist of one word only: mine. Mine. Mine.
He swoops down and takes Felix’s mouth, less of a kiss and more of a claim, lips and teeth and tongue invading Felix’s mouth like it belongs to Dimitri. Felix opens for him, mouth and body, legs falling apart to make room for Dimitri between them. He doesn’t kiss back, but he submits.
Or at least, at first he does. But no one is as stubborn as Felix, an infuriating trait that Dimitri loves as much as he despises, and Felix forces his omega back with the sheer force of his obstinance. He shoves at Dimitri’s chest—rather ineffectively, it must be said.
“Get off, Boar,” he says, hitting Dimitri in the chest when it becomes clear he can’t push him off. Dimitri growls, a sound he wasn’t aware he could even make. Why does Felix always have to fight? Why can’t he just submit?
Make him, his alpha says. Make him submit.
Of course—Felix is stubborn and proud, his omega probably more so. Dimitri can’t just throw him down and fuck him like he’s nothing more than a rut aid; he needs to prove himself, needs to show Felix that he’s a viable alpha. He needs to win.
Dimitri is almost entirely at the mercy of his alpha now, and even the clearer parts of his brain are so distracted by his desire to fuck Felix that it’s all he can focus on. It’s the only thing that matters, the most important thing in the world. They aren’t Dimitri and Felix, prince and future duke; they’re simply alpha and omega, and thousands of years of instinct and evolution is the driving force behind Dimitri right now. This is his omega: he needs to prove himself the best alpha. He needs to breed.
It’s this thought that has Dimitri lifting Felix up from the bed, ignoring his shouts and struggles as he brings him over to the breeding bench. The human part of his mind recognizes it and straps Felix into it, legs on either side, keeping him spread open wide for Dimitri. It's easy enough to get Felix into position; Dimitri is strong, of course, but more than that, Felix isn't really fighting. Not really. Dimitri has fought Felix more times than he can count, and he knows his strength and his spirit. Felix doesn't want to fight Dimitri off, not really, and he can only imagine how much that fact annoys Felix.
He's fighting because he thinks he has to, and Dimitri swats away his protestations like a fly, securing him to the breeding bench in the middle of the room.
“Animal,” Felix spits, but even as he curses at Dimitri his hips are rocking, rutting his cock against the leather of the bench. He’s still fighting against his omega, against his instincts, but he can’t stop his body from reacting. His cunt is soaked, slick staining his thighs, and Dimitri can’t stop himself from swiping his fingers through Felix’s pussy lips, lifting his wet fingers to his mouth. Never before has he mourned the loss of his sense of taste so much, tongue swirling over his fingers and dipping into the webbing between to ensure not a drop of Felix is wasted, desperate for even the slightest flavour.
Dimitri undresses himself finally, shucking his outfit off haphazardly and throwing it out of the way with a loud clang. His cock is so hard it’s aching, red and drooping under its own weight, precum dripping liberally onto the floor—not that he’ll need any extra lubrication with how ready Felix’s body is for him. His knot is already threatening, swelling at the base of his cock in anticipation, and Dimitri runs a hand over it.
“I don’t know why you still struggle, Felix,” Dimitri says; he drags the head of his dick through Felix’s folds, slicking his cock before he leans over Felix’s back so he can speak directly in his ear. “You can’t hide how you truly feel. Not from me.”
Felix makes a choked little sound, but he can’t make any denials, because it’s true. They’ve been beside each other since the beginning; Dimitri cannot remember a time without Felix by his side. And no matter what Felix may like to pretend, they still know each other better than anyone. So maybe anyone else would be fooled by the sour notes of Felix’s scent, but Dimitri knows him better than that, can identify the things that Felix can’t control as well—his arousal, his excitement, and above all his satisfaction. Felix’s omega is sated, happy with his alpha’s performance, with his strength. He’s identified Dimitri as a viable mate.
Felix wants him—they both know it. Whether Felix is happy about that fact has no bearing on Dimitri right now. He’s tired of this fight, this petty human squabble when all of Felix’s pheromones are calling out to him.
He shoves himself inside Felix’s cunt.
Felix cries out, but there’s nowhere for him to go, no way to escape the stretch of Dimitri’s heavy cock bullying itself inside him with no relief. Felix whines and shakes but his cunt takes Dimitri beautifully, stretching around him like he was made for it, the warmth and wetness around Dimitri’s cock like nothing he’s ever felt before. There’s no way he deserves this, not with all he's done, but he’s always been so selfish, so greedy when it came to Felix.
He pulls out nearly all the way, slamming back in with no rhyme or reason. He grabs Felix by the hips, holding on tightly as he fucks him, eyes falling closed as he’s overwhelmed. The rut aids don’t come close—Dimitri will never be content with using them again, not after having his omega’s pussy, snug tightly around him, clinging to Dimitri’s cock like it doesn’t want to let it go.
“Oh, Felix,” Dimitri says, hair falling into his face as he fucks into him; Felix is so wet it’s making an audible noise each time Dimitri thrusts in, and his cock is drenched, slick pooling beneath them on the bench and dripping onto the floor. He’s moving the bench each time he fucks into Felix, and the smell— the mixture of the two of them has filled the room, and nothing has ever felt so right to Dimitri in his life.
He doesn’t miss Felix’s little jerks and whines, the way he tries to shove his hips back onto Dimitri’s cock, the way he whimpers as Dimitri’s knot threatens at his hole. Perhaps this is all Felix needed to set him straight. Maybe Dimitri should have done this ages ago.
“Boar,” Felix says, and there’s no anger in his voice anymore, just desperation. He rocks his hips, but the straps are too tight around him, and he can’t get any leverage. “Boar, come on—”
A smirk spreads its way across Dimitri’s face as Felix breaks beneath him. He slows his hips, smoothing a hand down Felix’s back. “What do you need, Felix?”
“Come on, you useless alpha—”
“Ask me nicely,” Dimitri says, voice rough and raw. “Tell me what you want and I will give it to you, Felix.” He’ll give him anything, anything his omega wants. His perfect, amazing omega. His wonderful omega, who’s going to take his cum and bear his pups and—
“ Alpha,” Felix says, somehow finding a way to sound both desperate and annoyed. “Fuck me properly—” And then he says, “ Dimitri.”
The sound that erupts from Dimitri is something inhuman, and when he tries to unbuckle Felix from the bench, he tears the straps clear off. Manuela is going to have his head for that later; Dimitri can’t bring himself to care.
He lifts Felix up easily and slams his back against the wall, holding him up by his thighs as he shoves himself back inside Felix’s pussy. Felix wraps his arms securely around Dimitri’s neck, and he leans in to kiss him again, lips parted as they pant into each other’s mouths. Felix’s fingers curl into the hair at the base of Dimitri’s neck as he bounces him on his cock, Felix’s small dick bouncing between them as he’s speared open again and again. Dimitri is big, but Felix takes him so well, just more proof that they were made for each other. Suddenly every childish dream he ever had of sitting on the throne with Felix beside him, not just as his Shield but as his— suddenly those dreams don’t seem so out of reach.
“Again,” he demands, hips driving up into Felix’s pliant, willing body. “Say it again.”
“Dimitri,” Felix says, and he lets his forehead drop to Dimitri’s shoulder, clutches tightly to him as he’s fucked against the wall, lifted by Dimitri’s impressive strength and dropped down onto the entire length of his cock by gravity. His legs are locked behind Dimitri’s broad back, and Dimitri desperately seeks his mouth again. “Dimitri, I’m close.”
Another roar is ripped from Dimitri’s chest. He’s going to make his omega cum, going to overwhelm him with pleasure before he knots him and breeds him properly. He’s not sure if it’s true, but there’s some deep instinct within him that tells him a satisfied omega is easier to breed. Is it evolution, then, that has Dimitri increasing his hips, frantically seeking after Felix’s pleasure with single-minded abandon? Or is it simply his desire to see every side of Felix, to be the only one who is blessed enough to see what Felix Fraldarius looks like when he comes undone?
When Felix comes he tightens up everywhere, pussy squeezing down on Dimitri’s cock, legs tightening around his waist, arms locking and fingers tightening in Dimitri’s hair. He shakes and moans and comes between them, cum shooting across their stomachs and smearing between their bodies. Dimitri doesn’t falter, doesn’t slow down—he can’t. There’s nothing in the world that could make him stop fucking Felix right now, even as he whines with overstimulation.
“Good,” Dimitri says, orgasm building inside him, and when Felix feels his knot he starts to squirm. “Good omega, my perfect Felix—”
“Knot,” Felix demands. He’s loose-limbed and content after orgasm, and Dimitri feels his heart swell.
“Yes,” he promises, because he’d give Felix anything at this point. He adjusts his grip, hands moving to grope at Felix’s ass instead as he fucks in once, twice, until his knot shoves its way inside Felix. He draws Felix in closer as he comes, shoving his cock in as deep as he can, and Felix cries out in pain as his cockhead batters against his cervix. Dimitri is too far gone to notice or stop, can focus on only one thing—filling Felix up with his cum, pumping him full, getting him pregnant and swollen with Dimitri’s child. Then everyone will know, they’ll be able to smell it on Felix always, smell Dimitri and their family, and Felix will look so pretty fat with their pup, tits swollen with milk—
It’s that image that has him coming with a roar. Dimitri’s cock shoots rope after rope inside of Felix, cock still fucking into him as deep as he can go, as if some deep-seated animal brain wants to spill right inside of Felix’s womb. His knot catches perfectly inside of Felix’s pussy, and it tightens and clenches down on Dimitri’s dick as he comes, until Dimitri is nearly blind with pleasure.
There’s so much. Dimitri is still coming somehow, still pumping deep inside of Felix. Admittedly he doesn’t really…er, take care of himself very often, but even he is surprised by the sheer amount of cum he manages to stuff inside of Felix. His alpha is momentarily content, certain he’s succeeded in impregnating his mate, but Dimitri isn’t so certain. Felix’s heats tend to last two to three days (he can admit that he’s been tracking them), so thankfully he still has time.
“How are you still coming,” Felix mutters into Dimitri’s neck, where he’s currently slumped. It’s true—Felix’s insides must be painted fully white, but still Dimitri’s cock pulses, unloading more inside of him. Dimitri carefully lifts Felix away from the wall and over to the bed; it is a little hard to move when the two of them are still knotted together, and Dimitri manages to sit down on the edge of the bed, holding Felix in his lap, legs spread on either side of Dimitri’s hips and cunt still milking his cock dry.
“Sorry,” he says. Felix gives a weak snort.
“No you’re not,” he says, and Dimitri can admit that he’s not. He rubs a hand up and down Felix’s back, burying his nose in his hair and inhaling his scent. It smells a little different than usual, and Dimitri wonders if his own scent has changed, too. It’s fitting that now the two of them have finally come together, they’ve become irrevocably changed.
“Dimitri,” Felix says after a few minutes, and Dimitri delights at the sound of his name on his lips again. “If you actually got me pregnant, I’ll kill you.”
Dimitri chuckles, but he notably does not respond. He can’t trust himself not to give away how much he wouldn’t mind that happening. Felix shifts on his lap, hissing when Dimitri’s knot pulls at him.
“Goddess sakes, Boar,” he says with a grunt of annoyance. “How long does it take your damn knot to go down?”
“Sorry,” he says again, and this time he is, truly. “I’ve never—well, it shouldn’t be that much longer.”
Felix grumbles again. Dimitri lifts a hand and smooths his hair over his shoulder, baring his neck. He eyes the unmarked skin there; he wants to bite so badly, wants to mark and claim him, but he knows that’s going to require a much larger conversation. He may be a beast, but he will not cross that line.
Eventually Dimitri’s knot deflates, and Felix shifts off his lap; but he doesn’t go far, much to Dimitri’s delight, choosing to collapse onto the mattress beside Dimitri, throwing an arm over his face as he takes some deep breaths. Dimitri takes the opportunity to study his body, the long lines of it, the firm muscles, the scars from old wounds and the scabs from more recent ones. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on his chest and hips, imagining them covered in stretch marks.
He’s not sure how long until Felix will need to go again, and in the meantime awkwardness sits between them, no longer moved forward by his heat. Dimitri listens to his alpha instincts and stands to get Felix some water, unsure what else to do but provide.
Felix takes the water and gives Dimitri a wary look. He has no idea where they stand right now. He has no idea if Felix is going to kiss him or kill him—which is perhaps an improvement, actually, since before he’d only feared the killing.
Felix drinks half the cup of water before he hands it back to Dimitri, who finishes it himself before returning it to the table. Then he sits awkwardly on the edge of the bed again; his alpha has temporarily retreated, scared away by human etiquette and tension. Lucky alpha, Dimitri thinks wryly; how easier it would be to simply knot and leave, without having to try to reconfigure the lines between you and who used to be your closest person, and figure out what you’re supposed to do when the one who loves you also kind of hates you too.
Does Felix hate him? Thinking about it, Dimitri isn’t so sure anymore. Looking back on the night—there are some actions Dimitri took that he feels a bolt of shame over, but for the most part… well, Dimitri has more than enough cuts and knicks and losses tallied in a notebook to know that Felix can be a fierce fighter when he needs to be. When he wants to be.
There’s so much they need to talk about—but Dimitri is beginning to notice a change in Felix’s scent, a shift signifying that very soon, conversation will no longer be on the table.
“Boar,” Felix says hoarsely, and if Dimitri feels sadness at the lack of his name, it’s immediately cancelled out by Felix’s next words. “You can’t bite me until we leave Garreg Mach.”
From the way Felix rolls his eyes, he must be able to tell how happy Dimitri is from the way his scent blooms. He pulls Felix into him for another bruising kiss, revelling in the easy way he lays down and drags Dimitri with him. He wonders how different this time will be, since it appears Felix is no longer fighting off his omega as strongly as before. He can’t wait to find out.
They will talk—there is too much that lives between them not to. But based on past experience, Dimitri has two to three days before Felix is properly coherent enough for a conversation.
That’s alright, though, Dimitri thinks, running a hand up the smooth skin of Felix’s thigh. He has a few ideas of what they can do to pass the time.