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Simon was so hard he was gonna die.
Okay, maybe not die, but something equally as bad. Like, being a ritual member again.
He hated parties, he always had, but for some reason he decided to go to this one. He was a broke college student and he wanted free booze, okay? He could withstand a few guys awkwardly trying to make conversation with him for the sake of a few drinks.
What he didn’t anticipate was the wasted omega grinding on him like he was the only worthy thing in the entire damn room.
It was a college party, obviously he expected for there to be some drunk fucks locking lips and hips with any fool that allowed it, but he didn’t expect to become a target of one of those drunk fucks. Okay, drunk fuck wasn’t a good descriptor. This omega was wasted, not drunk. And he wasn’t a fuck either. Not by a long shot.
What he was, or, really, is, is a tease. He was wearing low waisted jeans that purposefully showed the straps of his thong and a crop top that was far too short to be anything close to appropriate. And the glitter.
Holy shit, he was covered in glitter.
Simon could see the way certain men avoided him like the plague, all of that shimmer on him sure to leave traces on anyone he touched. The less faithful men certainly didn’t want proof of their exploits left on them for their partners to see, no.
Simon had no such things to worry about. He also had no such skills or self control as to shoo the man away when he came slinking up.
And he smelled good. There was the slight artificial scent of covers like perfume and body mists, but underneath that, he could smell the omega like a lighthouse at night. Warm was most prominent, nearly suffocating Simon. It was like a cool afternoon after a busy day, curled up on the couch and dozing off even though you swore you’d get something done.
It was mostly covered up by perfumes that probably had the word promiscuous on them.
Past that warmth, the omega smelled like slick. It was tantalizing and Simon didn’t think he could pull away if he really tried.
The omega slid up against him while the music changed to something heavier. He couldn’t tell what song it was, but he knew it was probably too seductive for them to stay pressed together like this and not move. He tossed his head back against Simon’s shoulder and nuzzled against the scent blockers covering the area, making a slightly disappointed sound when it didn’t slide off with ease.
“Wh—who’re—“
“Ryland Grace, just call me Ry,” the omega—Ryland—purred, reaching up and grabbing the back of Simon’s head while rolling his ass backwards into his cock.
“Fuck. Why are you—“
“You don’t like it?” Ryland asked. Cooed, really.
“I didn’t say that,” Simon mumbled, grabbing Ryland’s hips and grinding at an angle so he could nudge against his pussy.
Ryland moaned happily and ground down, arching his back like a proper slut. “Do—shit—do you do this often?” He asked, hands tightening on the omega’s hips.
“Only once per sometimes.”
“Helpful.”
“Why, you planning when you wanna see me again?” Ryland ground his hips harder, and Simon felt his hand tighten without his permission.
“Maybe. Maybe I just want to know when to avoid you, huh?” Simon teased.
“Oh no. First thing you’ll learn about me is I avoid you, not the other way around.”
“And will you be avoiding me?”
“I guess you’ll just have to come back next Fridaayyy and seee,” Ryland purred, slipping away from Simon with little issue. He helplessly pawed at the air, mourning that contact.
Then, like that, the little omega was gone.
Simon went home buzzed and hard as a rock, closing his door and locking it the second he entered. He didn’t have the patience to properly lay down and get comfortable, so he ripped off his pants and boxers, grabbing his cock with a firmer grip than necessary.
When he glanced down, he could see traces of that fine, powdery body glitter stuck to his hand. It shone in the dark like the apple on Eden’s tree, a temptation he couldn’t, wouldn’t ignore.
It took him an embarrassingly short time to come. It was only made even more embarrassing by the sheer amount of it. He wasn’t a virgin, he just… didn’t sleep around all that often. Or masterbate. Or…
Okay, he’s kind of a virgin.
Whatever.
The glitter from his hands transferred onto his cock and didn’t seem to want to leave. It was… it made him feel strangely good. That sweet omega’s glitter on his most sensitive and intimate organ.
Jesus, he’s a creep.
That alpha was back.
Ryland hadn’t actually gotten his name, and he only realized after their exchange was over. It would have been just pathetic to go back and ask for his name of all things, so Ryland just didn’t bother. If he was really interested, he’d be back.
He let Ryland grind all up on him and actively touched him, so he doubted he was a cheater. Didn’t look the type. No, he looked sweet and nervous and exactly the kind of alpha that Ryland would love to ride into the mattress.
He’d look so sweet! Ryland couldn’t wait.
He just had to hope that alpha took the bait and came back.
Speaking of. It was Friday, his brother was hosting another one of his shitty parties with the hopes of getting his long since crush to notice him, and he was already buzzing with energy. He wanted a drink, but he didn’t want to start drinking yet. There was glitter all over him, as per usual—a cautionary measure! No one touches something they know will leave a trace—and he was technically ready to go, but he just didn’t want to drink. It was odd. Normally he would be kicking back shots at every given chance, but he just couldn’t bring himself to it this time.
He wanted to be sober, which was never a good thing.
“Why are you pouting?” Colt asked, leaning against the steps railing with him.
“I’m not pouting.”
“You’re pouting. Did a guy reject you?”
“No, ugh. There isn’t a guy within a forty mile radius that would reject me.”
“Yao would.”
“A guy I’d ask out.”
“What, you don’t dig the sober and solemn vibe?” Colt teased.
“I just—ugh. Last Friday, I saw a guy and I talked to him and I want him to come back today but I don’t know if he will.”
“Really? And by talk you mean…”
“We were kind of grinding.”
“Thought so. You like him?”
“He looks sweet. Kind of my type. Dunno.”
“But you want to know,” Colt hummed.
“Yeah. I wanna know about him. And like—ride him into the mattress or something.” Ryland ran his hand down his face, groaning.
Colt snickered. “TMI.”
“We shared a womb.”
“Yeah, 20 years ago.”
“Then a bedroom, which was arguably worse.”
“Only until we were 12.”
“Twelve years too many.”
Colt flicked him in the forehead. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got this. If lover boy really is worth half a fuck, then he’ll be here.”
Ryland smiled despite himself. “Your hair looks like shit.”
“You smell like booze.”
“Touche.”
Colt walked off and Ryland found himself watering through the slowly arriving crowds of people, searching for Mr. Tall dark and handsome. Not any luck, though.
He was beginning to lose hope when he felt a warm hand around his waist, tugging him into a firm chest and a hard cock. That scent of forest and petrichor filled his nose and he relaxed into those hands. “Hi, handsome.”
“Hello, Ry. You’ve been walking all over for the past few minutes. Looking for someone?”
“Mmh, just a certain guy. Tall, black hair, buff enough to probably throw me over his shoulder. Oh, and he’s massive.” Ryland ground his ass against Simon’s erection. “Have you seen him?”
“Maybe I have. I think I saw him go upstairs, actually. I could help you look.”
The only thing upstairs was empty bedrooms for people to commandeer when they needed a quick fix. Oh.
“I supposed you should help. Can I have a name for my savior?”
The alpha raised an eyebrow. Unfairly attractive. “Simon. Call me Simon.”
“Come on, Si.” Ryland grabbed him and practically dragged him to the steps, pushing someone out of the way to get there. Simon apologized behind him, but Ryland didn’t so much as turn around. Let the alpha deal with that, he was more focused on getting a private room so he could have his way with that man!
Ryland shoved Simon into a room and closed the door behind them. He barely had a second to think before there was a firm body pinning him to the door.
“Where are your manners?” Simon growled.
“Huh?”
“You slammed into four people and didn’t so much as look at them. Is that how a good boy should behave?”
Ryland blinked. Four? Had it been that many? It—jeez. Whatever. He had pressing matters to attend to. “No one got hurt.”
“But you were rude. Bad.”
Ryland squirmed under Simon’s interrogation, avoiding eye contact.
“Look at me. Come on, you can be good for me, can’t you?” Simon tilted his chin up.
Slowly, Ryland let his eyes wander to Simon’s. It was embarrassing, but the way the alpha’s hands curled into his hair as a reward made it all worth it.
“Knees, Angel. Get on them.”
Ryland dropped. His knees ached slightly from how hard he hit the floor, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. What the fuck? This had never happened before, not with the hottest guys on campus, none of them made him feel as untethered as Simon did.
“There you are. Isn’t this nice? Down there, where I can see you?”
Ryland leaned forward to nuzzle against the bulge in Simon’s pants, only to be ripped back by his hair. He whined pathetically.
“Ah ah, that’s for good boys. Are you a good boy?”
“‘M a good boy,” Ryland panted. “‘M your good boy.”
Simon’s eyes got slightly darker. “Good. Mine. Up, on the bed.”
Ryland scrambled to get up and into the bed, presenting despite all of his clothes on. Hopefully Simon would just tear it off to make it easier.
Maybe he’d lend him his shirt. Sure, Ryland’s room was just down the hall, but the thought of wearing Simon’s clothes…
Simon flipped Ryland onto his back. He squeaked in surprise and confusion. What?
“I wanna see your pretty face.”
“I’m loud.”
“Good.” Simon undid his pants.
“I should muffle myself.”
“The music downstairs is loud enough to break glass. And if people don’t wanna hear sex, they shouldn’t come upstairs.”
“It—really? You wanna see me? That’s—like, embarrassing.”
Simon raised an eyebrow and pulled his pants down, pawing at his thong. “I like seeing my work. How would I know I’m doing any good if I can’t tell how you’re responding?”
“You—I’m the one that’s supposed to make it good, I don’t just lay back and take it.”
“Well, that changes now. You’re gonna lay here and let me take care of all of it.”
“I…” Ryland’s head felt like it was spinning, and not from alcohol this time.
“Tap my arm two times.”
Ryland obeyed.
“Good. Do that if you want to stop but you can’t talk. Do you know the traffic light system?”
“Green, yellow, and red?”
“Yeah. Use it.”
“That’s only for really extreme sex, are you—“
“It’s for any sex. If I ask, you give me your color. If I don’t ask, still give me your color and stop me because I’m doing it wrong, got it?”
Ryland nodded, at a loss for words. Okay. Yeah. Simon was really good at sex, apparently.
“I’m gonna make you scream.”