@cheetahsung - Tumblr Blog

the soft noises was music to his sharp ears. every sound, every breath, every muted moan out of the cheetah was like a siren's song for him; luring him deeper, pulling him deeper into his desire for the other. like he could be enveloped around his very essence. he wanted more. didn't want charles to silence himself. amaridin wanted to hear everything the other had to offer, wanted to be the one to illicit those sounds from him. "mewl for me."

the pleading did something to him. spiked his arousal, if it even could grow any higher. growls clawed out his chest. "patience." in his own brand of archaic thinking, the elf knew not to go too fast. especially not with the inexperienced. poor thing was already overwhelmed as it was. he wasn't looking to shut charles down that early.

hand brushed over the other's lean form, letting his fingers do the work of tracing skin before his tongue eventually would.

charles would learn what kind of alpha he was. a little window into him that he could glimpse into. amaridin well, assumed that the feline would have already surmised that he wasn’t of this time at the very least. with the way he spoke and carried himself. the elf knew things were different here now, just as there were also differences between societies in the past.

the other's eagerness appreciated, even if coloured with shyness. it was endearing. but there was also that thrill of being able to take an omega's virginity. it might be a little cruel to slow down with how needy the other seemed. but if he was being truthful, it was as much for him as for the omega; he feared what he would do if he'd been given free reign over charles — something he basically already had — that he couldn't control the alpha within himself, that he'd end up ravaging the other, that he'd break him.

the hand on his thigh, on his scarred skin. eyes kept their red as they looked at each other. breath coming in short pants as he returned to kissing the omega once again, swapping saliva, teeth pulling lightly at the other’s lip; not hard enough to break skin, he was being careful, like charles was a fragile thing. slotting his tongue between the other again as he turned the kiss heated.

ainor, he was so fucking hard.

his nostrils, his very lungs chockful of charles’ smell, as if they would burn him like sulphur from a forge. even amaridin's own patience would run out eventually. his hands were already under the cheetah’s shirt, lifting it higher; the next natural progression was to tug it off.

"yaulë." again, his lips left the temple of charles' face. he had other places to worship. amaridin didn't take his time but he wasn't particularly hurried either. kissing his way down the man's frame, his clavicle, his chest, his nipple, his stomach, the base of his belly, below the belly button.

hands reached down to the waistband. “may i?” it couldn’t be comfortable for charles in that slicked sticky fabric. and he wanted to get to his honeyed prize. his blood boiled with unspent want. the scent was even stronger the closer he got to that vestal cunt. ambrosial slick waiting for him to consume and devour. his to take. though that didn't mean amaridin would neglect the other's front either. "ni indóme mahtatye foraime." spoken more as a promise for himself to keep than to charles directly. the feline would not understand him anyway. "vénëa erdëvenënya." the omega wasn't his, just yet. but perhaps that would change. after this.

maybe he was.

maybe he was fragile.

a fragile little thing that might break upon touch, upon receiving what he had craved so horrendously for so many years. maybe he was vastly underprepared for what was to come. maybe he wasn’t even meant to be here at all, caged against the very pillows he called his bed for the night with a strong, devastatingly handsome alpha hovering above him.

but he was here now. and here, he felt he belonged. whether that was the heat speaking or his truest self, he didn’t know—and, truth be told, he didn’t care. it didn’t matter. amaridin, his strong, beautiful elven knight, had found him and charles wouldn’t give that up for anything in the world.

even if he had no idea what he was doing. that thought brought back the usual, crippling anxiety—his constant fear that, as always, he would come up lacking, that he would end up disappointing his maybe-but-probably-not-really-future-alpha. as if he'd want anything to do with him post heat. he wanted nothing more than to please him, to give back as much as he received, but he wasn’t sure how. his fingers tightened faintly on the elf’s thigh—not reassurance, exactly, but a soft, desperate i’m here, and i’m trying.

his other hand hovered uselessly in the air for a moment, as though it might find something clever to do, before awkwardly landing against the elf’s side. he gave a tiny squeeze, far too cautious, then quickly second-guessed himself and smoothed his palm down like that might cover the clumsy gesture. still, when amaridin kissed him again—deeper than before—charles clung back with something almost desperate, gasping when their mouths parted.

he had never thought he’d feel another person’s hands against his skin—never truly understood what that would mean beyond his own imagination, which had failed him miserably. amaridin’s palms burned warmth into him, sparks that sent even more of his blood rushing south, though charles hadn’t thought that possible at this point. in a nervous bid to respond in kind, he let his fingertips trace upward over the elf’s ribs, only to chicken out halfway and retreat to the safer territory of his shoulder. idiot, he thought, but amaridin didn’t pull away, so maybe it wasn’t too awful.

he felt the alpha’s length pressing against his hip—or his leg, he couldn’t quite recall—but the knowledge that he had caused that, even in the smallest way, filled him with a pride he hadn’t known he could feel. maybe he wasn’t completely undesirable. maybe. but the moment his shirt was stripped away, that fragile pride faltered, dimmed quickly into something smaller.

his eyes betrayed him, darting downward to compare himself—his own pale, fragile frame against the elf’s sun-kissed, sculpted beauty. who wouldn’t wince at the sight? he certainly did. his hands twitched, unsure of where to go, finally retreating back to fist at the sheets instead of fumbling further. and yet the alpha didn’t seem to mind at all. maybe he was dreaming. maybe he had passed out on the couch waiting for dinner, lulled into this feverish fantasy by the alpha’s scent filling the living room. because truthfully, the sight of amaridin pressing tender kisses down his body felt so impossibly surreal that surrender was the only option. still, his hips arched upward to meet each touch, gasps and soft moans breaking free regardless.

a shudder wracked the feline’s body when the elf’s lips brushed the top of his waistband. his jaw locked as their eyes met once more, sweat dripping down his temples, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. his hand lifted clumsily toward amaridin’s face—hesitated—then instead ended up curling against his shoulder again, fingertips digging in lightly just to anchor himself. it was fortunate amaridin looked at him when he asked the question, because charles’ brain had lost all connection to his mouth. his lips stayed parted, helplessly silent, even as his head tipped in a desperate nod.

yes, you may.

please, god, you may.

the elf’s words rang in his ears, though he couldn’t understand them. couldn’t know how deeply they would cut if he knew their true meaning. as they were, they only deepened his certainty that elven was the most beautiful language he had ever heard. maybe because no one had ever spoken another language to him like this before. maybe because of amaridin’s breathtaking presence. or maybe because it simply was.

“y-yes,” he croaked eventually, voice trembling with nerves and need alike. with every nerve ending on fire and his brain reduced to chaos, charles hardly registered the sweatpants being tugged away—hardly noticed until they were gone. what remained was a short, somewhat loose pair of boxer briefs, no better off than what had been stripped away.

and below…

charles was like a secret treasure he’d found. or fell into... if not his lap, then into him. to think this was not how he expected his night to go. a day at his forge. a shower. a trip to the store. he'd planned to have a simple dinner and then prepare for a day of hunting tomorrow. and now... well. simple dinner had been achieved, prepped, cooked and consumed. but the alpha hungered for something more.

an omega beneath him.

how no one had snatched him up yet, swept him off his feet and treated him right was beyond the elf's understanding. perhaps it was the lack of any form of social interaction charles seem to have had, not enough to form any sort of connection. amaridin himself barely knew the cheetah and the other probably did not know a thing about him aside from the obvious.

kiss heated, kiss deepened. tongue pressing forward, as he secured entry, as he led. claiming charles' mouth with an eagerness that was reciprocated. tongue exploring, mingling with the other's own. put himself in charge of the flow as he steered them both. not letting charles fall behind in his innocence, one that amaridin was happy to take. moaning as he pressed forward. mine. mine. mine. rattling in amaridin's brain. thought unbidden. ones he shouldn't have, not when he'd just met the omega. he should be more civilised than this. even if he had come from a time long since past. this ought to just have been pheromones and taking responsibility for causing a heat... and yet. the alpha elf couldn't help but feel a pull towards the cheetah that seemed to be more that just that. a deeper want bubbling from under the surface.

a hand over the other's then, having moved from holding his chin. firm as he grasped on them and guided them to the base of his shirt. amaridin pulled back from the kiss. tongue snaking out. breath heated as he caught it. “harma-idriya.” whispered against his lips. another kiss given, this one much shorter but no less passionate. the elf pulled back further, far enough to give himself the space to cross his arms and tug his shirt over his head and clean off. revealing his sweat-slicked, scar riddled body. chest and body firm with hard muscle and dusted with a light but healthy amount of red hair. the same could be said for his armpits, teased with the earlier action of removing his henley but now hidden from view. shirt then tossed unceremoniously to the side, but not too far and not violently either.

looking down on the omega below him. their scents mixing. and yet, all amaridin could really pinpoint was still all charles. his heat scent. his arousal. his slick scent. cutting through everything. hand on the cheetah's cheek, the elf went back down, this time not for a kiss. at least not on his lips. amaridin went for the other's scuffy jaw, (the one he wasn't holding), lips and tongue meeting flesh and hair. kissing, biting his way down to the man's neck — not hard enough to break skin, and nothing as serious as mate's mark; something he wouldn't inflict on an omega this soon... no matter how much his inner alpha was calling, yearning for it. he had over two hundred years of waiting. it's time. it's time. a chant in the back of his mind. it was something to be discussed, something bestowed after courting and a development of a relationship. not just heat or rut induced. the attraction certainly was there.

nose against his neck now. deep breath of the other's scent. what he smelt was pleasing to him. had blood rushing to his groin, cock at full mast now and its girth and length straining in his pants almost uncomfortably. "charles." almost breathless as he spoke, voice full of awe. other hand slid down and began exploring charles' body, over his chest and down to his stomach before slipping under the other's shirt and then back up in reverse order, roaming over flesh. all while doing the same with his lips: neck, back to jaw and then finally again on the omega's lips.

at this point in his sad, lonely life, charles would've given several limbs & a soul to not be alone anymore. his standards? at forty-plus? non-existent. he'd give anything to not spend his nights & days alone. did he think he was a good match? or even a tolerable one for an alpha? not in the slightest & yet he was selfish enough to wish himself upon one. a nice one ... please. at the same time, he'd thrown himself at this elf without knowing more than his name about him. but he cooked, he cared for him. which he knew could be a farce & he might've walked right into his trap & maybe he was now entering slave-harem territory without knowing, but ... it was too late to back down.

this was what he always dreamt of, what he always wrote of - only up until right now, he didn't really know... did he? imagination sure did a lot to make up for a lack of experience, but ... no amount of reading, no amount of writing ... none of that could really grasp what it felt like to be held, to be kissed.. for another person's warmth to entwine with your own. everything he wrote was ... lacking. it was insufficient. he knew that now, he felt it now - right in that moment. when tongues mingled & breath was shared, soft careful noises caught amidst harsh, panted breaths. heat was demanding its tribute & soon. now that the floodgates had been opened, it washed over him fiercely, mercilessly & more intensely than he could remember it to ever have.

he wanted more, but not only because his body asked for it. the moment he'd found himself in the elf's strong arms at the store, imagination had run wild. he'd assumed he'd stumble home & write a series on what ifs - as he usually did, but not in a million years did he expect to be in it. a light tremble rocked his body, the same that arched up into the elf when he pulled away from the kiss - yearning to feel the alpha's lips against his own again. found & lost. quick breath sucked in when he pulled away, fingers reaching out to clasp at a thigh, but the alpha wasn't leaving, was he?

he was not.

& that brought the hint of a smile on the feline's lips, barely curved & yet far from the more common downwards tilt they did because charles went through life sad & afraid. if not for the heat-induced ... who was he kidding, his heat barely had influenced his level of desperation. he'd be ogling the alpha's impressive form regardless - heat or not. every scar told a story. charles wondered if he'd ever get to hear some of them; learn the truth behind them, learn ... the kind of man the alpha truly was. but not now. hand lifted, fingers stretched out to gently brush over a scar further down, where he could reach, his own fingers cold - nervous & worried, while the alpha's body was warm & inviting.

his eyes never left amaridin's face, always watching even if ... eyes averted meeting the man's, embarrassed & shy, or maybe he was just self-conscious & worried about whether or not he'd like what he saw on his face. thankfully he wouldn't find out for a while longer. with the alpha back down in his vicinity, charles ... felt calmer already, though more nervous at the same time. brain, please shut up for five seconds. able to still taste the elf on his lips, he yearned for their lips to meet again, but the alternative ... was good, too. better even, maybe. he couldn't quite tell. heart hammering in his chest, with his lips unoccupied, amaridin got all the soft sounds formerly held back by his own lips.

pants & breaths, but more importantly, a fine variation of very, very careful moans. oh, he wanted those teeth in his neck no doubt. it's time. he's waited all his life. it's time. hasn't he waited enough? but blame would not be imposed on the alpha for he knew the decision was not made lightly, regardless of what charles wished for. but he ...felt it too, right? it wasn't just the feline who felt ...this ...something between them, right?

the thing was, when amaridin leaned in to sniff at his neck, charles got to do the same & a kitten's nose getting a full whiff of alpha surely did the trick. if pants hadn't been drenched yet, they would be now. if his face hadn't been flushed yet, it would be now. the alpha's calloused hands brushing over pale, unblemished skin did only intensify the need he felt - body craning up into amaridin's every touch with a need that was unmatched. "please."

lips brushed over his own again & he wasn't sure if his message got across, but he didn't ...mind if not either, arms wrapping around the alpha's neck to hold onto him, fingers brushing against the short hair on the back of his head, deepening the kiss - on his own accord this time. please.

a proper prince would have been gallant enough to wait for a imprimatur. ensure his maiden was comfortable, protected her virtues before he was given the opportunity to deflower her. something that charles ought to know. after all, charles by virtue of being a writer should be privy to such knowledge or at the very least, the fantasy of such. thankfully for the cheetah, amaridin was not of royal birth, as much as he was aware at any rate. yet, that didn't mean he didn't follow the example of chivalry as displayed by such.

still, those rules were very much present within him, flexible and currently bending to the point of breaking at this current juncture. the lure was very much present and working. ambrosial scent all but making him wrestle with his control. if he sank his teeth in it, that would have made him no better than the alphas on the street prowling for a helpless and hapless omega — the very same one he deterred and detoured on their journey here.

and then that breathless word. as close as permission granted, no, gifted to him. begged him for. resplendent honey gold eyes was the final straw on the camel's back. pleading eyes staring into his own, and causing a biological and chemical reaction in them; mirroring gold with crimson maroon. hand guided to the other's chest, feeling the messy rhythm of his heart. like time had slowed around them and all the elf could hear was the beating of the omega's heart about to burst intermingling with his gasping breaths.

it was in that moment the course of action was decided. almost as if predetermined since charles first crashed into amaridin what felt like a lifetime ago.

the alpha would devour him whole.

he would show him just how much he was desired in that very moment. have his feast as was his right to do so. repression unleashed, dam broken. using his strength and the hand on the omega's chest as leverage to push him back first into the couch. one foot remained on the floor, the other leg lifted off it and went across the cheetah to rest in a kneeling position, pressed into the cushion. while the elf leaned in over the omega, a hand on the head of the couch to stabilise, broad shoulders bracketing the other in. leaving plenty of room to move, away too if necessary; in case charles changed his mind and wanted to back out.

"ainor." amaridin's eyes now ablaze in red, like his forge, blown out in arousal. voice filled with lust. "alcarin vendë ar manaquenta. you are the most beautiful thing i have ever laid my eyes on in all my years." and undoubtedly looked and smelled like the tastiest thing too. truly, the elf was the blessed one if he was the one to get to have the man beneath him. his fingers find the other's chin to tilt it up towards him while he leaned down. capturing charles' lips in a heated kiss. the first burst of flavour, unlike anything he's ever had. tasting charles on his tongue, of paper and sweetness. and then his own cooking cutting through the deep spice of the omega. he growled as his tongue sought entry into the other's mouth, pushing to deepen the kiss — uncaring and unbothered by charles' inexperience — wanting everything the other had to offer.

charles was exhausted; the feline was tired of dreaming - of waiting for his prince to swoop & save him from this dire routine he called life. he was tired of days & heats passing without any signs of life from the other side - the side on which he was happy & living a fulfilled life with an alpha by his side. one who was like the knights & heroes he wrote about day in, day out. but at this point he knew that they either didn't exist or they'd never stumble into his life.

or he into theirs.

courting was for dreamers, flirting for idiots & dating for the mentally insane. maybe ..he was all three, but no more. at his point in time - at this point in ... well, of desperation, charles just wanted to not feel alone & undesirable ...even if only for five minutes. or ...however long it would take to .... well. it wasn't even that he could hide a lack of experience, because his very own body's scent gave it away - a secret shared with the goddamn world for free, to add salt to the wound.

because it wasn't humiliating enough to be a forty (ish) year old virgin, apparently - no. the entire world had to know, too. he was just to tired of feeling the way he did. he wanted to be held & touched, even if just ... tonight. it didn't matter, he'd deal with his heart later. but he couldn't even achieve that; his body burning bright & hot with unyielding desire. he didn't know what else to do. if this wasn't enough to interest the alpha in him, then...

well, he was maybe meant to die like this.

which, honestly, would be a lot less surprising than one may thing, but he still hoped - clutching that strong, calloused hand to his chest like it held the answer to every question, which - in fact, it seemed to do. leverage used against him, he found himself on his back with a broad alpha on top of him, his eyes bright in response to his own, his scent filling his lungs even more than before, air replaced with scent. no escape - not that he wanted to. gazes locked, lips ajar while breaths rattled through him. waiting, watching ...wondering.

his words... fall on deaf ears in a way, unbelieving & stubborn in their own self-destructive ways. he couldn't possibly mean it. no way did he mean it. he probably just felt bad because of how pathetic you are. but it didn't matter, because when charles' lips were met with the other's, nothing else really mattered. in that moment, there was just the two of them & nobody else could possibly come between them. not even himself.

he all but melted into the kiss, not quite sure where to put his arms ...or legs... so he resorted to just curling fingers into the alpha's shirt, holding close to him, the alpha's warmth all around, his scent ever-present & his taste ... slowly overtaking his senses. all of them. soft moan against the man's lips & entry granted in the same breath, eager for more, eager to comply & eager for more. much more.

"it is no bother. i am pleased to have cooked a decent meal for you." he smiled, thankful for the compliment; obligated to, wanted to, needed to, pleased to. someone had to. someone had to feed the other, care for him. if not an alpha, if not him, who better suited for the task? they were after all, supposed to look after their omegas. amaridin wasn't sure how sustainable it would be but hopefully giving the cheetah the taste of a properly cooked meal that was both nutritious and delicious would encourage him branch out from his usual canned or ready made foods. he was no professional chef or cook but even whatever he had made had to be preferable to that. his distain and worry wasn't for the type of food — it still wasn't ideal but the convenience it provided was a boon — but for the frequency of consumption.

what was the bother was something else entirely. the scent. slick (no doubt already soaking into the very couch they were seated in). arousal. desire. ripeness. it felt like it was overpowering everything else. clouding his thoughts. searing heat radiated from the other. completely unlike one of a forge but just as fiery. burning through his defences. all that combined made for a stuffy environment that didn't feel too pleasant if he wasn't going to act on them. worse still, the elf feared that if he touched charles, he wouldn't be able to stop. not touching the omega had nothing to do with the other being undesirable but rather too desirable. in all his years, control hadn't slipped from him before. there were few close moments, where he'd been caught on a knife's edge but he'd never crossed his own arbitrary lines before. they'd say he was justified, the omega was ripe for the taking. but for amaridin, explicit consent was the least he could afford them in their pheromone-induced state of lust. he wasn't about to shatter all his rules now. however different charles might be.

amaridin had eaten his own meal from his plate, the contents of which was something he was used to, nothing extravagant; certainly less hurried than the other. not that he could really concentrate on his food — and so set it down on table, leaving it mostly finished — with all the sinful noises happening mere inches beside him. the context was different, and yet muddied by their current state of being. the elf, well, he would be lying if he said he could not imagine charles making more of those noises under different circumstances. not to mention, there was a certain tastier meal to be had right next to him, leaning against him. one that smelled heavenly, delectable. hand on his thigh not unnoticed. gods grant him strength. but... maybe his desires and his sense of chivalry did not have to be discordant.

after all...

would it be crueller to deny the feline? he seemed so yearnful. "charles…" his tone took on a dangerous edge, voice deep and low, rough around the edges. charles was cursed with a heat flush with only one cure. one amaridin happened to possess. it would be inhumane not to provide the cure, unethical even, like a healer would be if they withheld a remedy from a patient. he cast his eyes down at their body-to-body contact, and more obviously the hand on his thigh. charles' palm felt like it burned an imprint on his flesh, even through a layer of fabric. his eyes blown with untapped, barely restrained lust. perhaps he needed to be the one to grant permission this time. his features and tone softened. "you're allowed to ask." for his touch. for everything you might want or need. even if it seemed like the omega would never ask anything, a favour, a want or otherwise, from another. or possibly, the elf was trying to give himself the permission to touch. or he could be the one to seek that permission from the other — if he wasn't so rooted in his ways of letting beings of the other secondary gender make that choice for themselves.

in charles' mind this wasn't about permission - it was about opportunity & fortune. was he fortunate enough to ..be chosen? to be seen for who he was? to be seen as someone who desired nothing more than an alpha to be held. the omega couldn't recall the last time he felt arms around him that weren't his own - he couldn't remember the last time he felt warmth that wasn't his own (besides, he didn't really have much body heat anyway), he couldn't remember the last time he ...felt something ..for someone. which didn't mean he had fallen for the elf just yet, not at all, but he still felt for him. gratitude, mostly. he found him & instead of discarding him - like he was used to, amaridin had ... well, picked him up, taking him home & cooked for him when charles couldn't.

he didn't have the words he needed - not like this, not when... when... he was here with him, tall & strong, so undeniably handsome & kind, too. charles' very own fantasy prince. not that he was charles' per se, just ... he... was here right now. the feline just wondered why he didn't act when he did his damndest to get his attention. to lure him in like his kind was supposed to. wasn't this why all this happened? heats, slick & scents? shouldn't he smell like the elf's favorite thing in the world right now so that he couldn't withstand? was he ...broken? was that why it didn't work? hand tightened on the alpha's thigh, body shaking with effort, because with every passing minute, charles' body spiraled down further, small portion of himself slowly fading & making way for lust & despair, because at the end of the day that would be all that was left of him.

you're allowed to ask.

it wasn't so much the asking that posed the problem, it was the implication given a positive answer occurred, because if he had to ask to be held then... it wasn't true, was it? he... wanted to be wanted. he wanted the alpha to take what he wanted, because honestly? how much more obvious could charles be? should he tear off his clothes & bend over the next best surface? this... wasn't what he wanted. he wanted to be courted, won over, ...desired. yes, he knew that was ... likely not going to happen to him, so maybe he had to drop that fantasy. maybe he should take what he could get so that ... at least he wouldn't die with any more regrets than necessary ......right?

"p-please."

when their eyes met again after that croaked little plea & they were bound to meet, because charles was so far in amaridin's personal space he could file a complaint, they shone bright golden. eyes pleading as they locked with the alpha's, chest heaving in unspoken desire. the alpha's hand was found with the feline's hand that had held his thigh prior & it was brought up to rest against his chest. his heart a quick drum that knew no rhythm & his forehead came to rest upon the other man's shoulder. "please."

even as charles hovered in the living room, already the scent of slick and heat was stronger. it clung in the air like the thickest glue, swirling around him in his proximity. foolishly, the elf assumed it couldn't be any worse. he's dealt with heats from other omegas before. most of the time he did help them out with it, with their express consent or prior arrangements of course. but the times he didn't, he was strong-willed enough to endure their presence for the most part.

and the omega, upon hearing his words, returned to the kitchen. but not for long. he hightailed out of the area and began clearing the coffee table (like it was something he was compelled to do) that was in front of a couch — one that had obviously been turned into a bed, and probably saw more use than an actual bed. the movement was frantic and surely uncomfortable considering charles' predicament at the moment. amaridin would have helped him but he didn't want to touch the cheetah's most treasured items. nor would his presence do more good than harm. as such the elf resigned himself to watching as the omega complete his task, finding himself getting uncomfortable in the process.

if he thought the smell was stronger when the cheetah came back down... he severely misunderstood just how pungent it could get now that he was closer. his senses were being assaulted by it. charles was just positively dripping, soaking through his sweatpants. amaridin's eyes couldn't help but wandered inappropriately, latching onto that damp spot that was steady increasing in size. úpuhta.

he was being tested. by his gods. his resolve was being challenged. like temptation of the sweetest kind to ravage this cat, defile him in his own home. but it would have felt exploitative of the other's natural biology.

and then the other asked him to sit with him, beside him on... a makeshift bed that would almost certainly be chockful of the omega's scent. the alpha had envisioned charles on the chair in the kitchen as they shared their dinner while he stood across him with a whole table to separate them for safety and dignity reasons. the distance was important to him. what he didn't expect was the omega to just brush past him and collect his plate without any fanfare. it was perhaps the most intense whiff he'd gotten since the cat's heat started. a deep rumble grew in his chest, one he didn't let out.

he should say no... but gods he didn't want charles to look any more endearingly pitiable and dejected than he already was. and maybe it was a little self-serving for him, to want... to be next to charles. to want... him. there was just something different about all the other times he's been in this position; around an omega in their heat. maybe it was because charles was a virgin, maybe it was because he was (what amaridin hoped he assumed correctly) somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s and hadn't yet had any form of physical and sexual intimacy with anyone much less an alpha, and now all that was being compounded, maybe it was the fact that this place, this house already smelt like charles to the very core, having lived here his whole life, having spent every single heat here his whole life, such that the very essence of him permeated into the very walls, floors, papers, everything in the area. or maybe it was something that was just uniquely charles. and that something unique was what was drawing amaridin in, like viper coiling around its prey and pulling it in.

maybe it was everything tied together in an intricate and magical elven knot, meant to hold the heaviest of weights and burden.

the elf entertained the idea of sitting next to charles to eat. he knew he wasn't going actually to say no. he couldn't. "of course. it would be my honour." to be allowed to exist in his living space that he had so graciously offered to share. just that he had to be proper and gentlemanly when he was there. amaridin adjourned to the kitchen to retrieve his own plate then, noticing the unfortunate side effect of being in charles' mere presence. looks like they both affected each other. he was half hard, probably had been for a while. no chance of willing it to subside, since the cause of it would still be very much present. the cause of which he was swiftly returning to. in fact, it was highly indubitable that blood would continue to drain south, an unfortunate consequence... or fortunate one depending on how you looked at it. if one were to look down... or if one were sitting down and happened to be at the perfect height as he approached; a very noticeable bulge tenting the elf's pants would reveal itself.

expeditiously, amaridin sat down in the space offered by the cheetah, trying his utmost best not to breathe in too deeply. he was in the heart of the great feline heat pheromones production centre; a place he'd liken to the most dangerous pollen in specific fairy flower fields. as for the meal... well this was reminiscent of his meals by a fire, seating on rock or grass. except there was no fire and a couch was more comfortable, and less likely to be damp — though the elf was certain that could change at any moment considering how much the omega was leaking. additionally, a fire shouldn't even be started in this room, not when there were so many papers about. one stray spark, one overeager flying piece of paper and the whole place would be engulfed in flames. an altogether unpleasant type of heat, though the elf supposed charles' heat wasn't too pleasant at the moment either.

at this stage of heat, charles usually wouldn't be up & moving anymore - he'd curl up in the bed they were currently sat on & ...well, cry into his pillow. heat was not a time well-spent for him, or for any omega he assumed. or maybe it was for normal people, he couldn't tell - he didn't know other people really. not anymore. back when he did, everybody had been too young to ....well, register. his first few heats had been ...different. still horrible, but .. it hadn't been this ... this feeling of dread & hopelessness as the icing on the cake.

he always thought he was a late bloomer; that's what his parents told him because he was an anti-social mess with health conditions nobody could explain. but as years passed, anti-social expanded into anxiety-ridden & health conditions... turned into alcohol addiction. or something like that. then he went through his twenties & nothing. passed thirty, still alone - every single heat & his came pretty much mostly on time. leave it to him & his broken body & soul to keep the heat regular & normal. like he was a healthy omega.

his fortieth birthday ... had been depressing. well, his entire life had been. actually, add that to his list of health conditions, probably. part of him never stopped wondering what was wrong with him, because why on earth did nobody want to be with him? but then he remembered that new haven didn't deliver willing alphas to your doorstep yet, so... he'd die alone. which was probably for the best. this just... confirmed it.

as he sat on the couch/bed to wait for amaridin, the brave elf who cooked for him in his own home while charles went into heat & still hadn't even tried to touch him despite the obvious effect charles' scent had on him, he realized that ... he likely wouldn't. if he wanted to, he already would've, right? charles ...was right here. dripping. clinging to him in the kitchen, the fact his heat kick started days early, that bulge in the elf's pants ... why?

what...was the problem?

was... he not desirable?

did he ...not even qualify for quick & heartless pheromone-induced?

why?

he understood nobody was looking to snatch him off the omega-market, he did. whenever he went out & came into contact with some was when he bought booze or canned foods, but even that he mostly ordered & the delivery guys.. didn't stay around him long enough. now this elf was in his home, but he seemed okay - other than the boner he seemingly planned to ignore. what did that say about his ability to attract? if an alpha decided to ignore his arousal .....in order to not touch him in his prime....?

nothing good.

maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this right now, he felt himself deflate right next to the elf, form hunched over, ears pulled back, breaths heavy & a soft sigh released through his nose. the food smelled heavenly, but ... did he feel like eating? the alpha came all the way to cook for him, so... he should. do it. legs spread a little further when he leaned in to grab his plate from the table, propped up firmly against the elf's, warmth spreading across from one body to the next like wildfire. the first bite was ...an explosion. surely, it would've tasted even more intensely without heat dulling his senses ...in favor of intensifying others, but it was - truly one of the highlights of .... well, his life. no doubt. soft noise of pleasure escaped, deep breath & happy sigh.

he stuffed his face with food - fuck manners & dignity, where did that ever get him? the closer he got to being full, the slower he got, maybe for a second he even forgot he was still leaking ...technically on the bed now through underwear & sweatpants. body leaned against the bigger one next to him on instinct, not to search pleasure per se, just ... content. cheeks flushed, dark pink & covered in a thin layer of sweat. breath hot, one hand came to find the alpha's thigh. not squeezing, just ... searching ..comfort. or something. he wasn't sure how long he ate, how much time passed, but he glanced up at the other from where he still leaned against him...

"i... thank you, that w-was... so good."

soft smile, breath a little shaky - enjoying ..the proximity, the warmth..even though it made his body burn even hotter.

when they parted, the elf could smell the subtle changes. his nose twitched. the heavy scent of arousal wafted into his nostrils, which flared in response, and settled deep into his lungs... followed by the cheetah's heat. scent of papers and books that was already coating the whole house dulled by the fresh scent of cooking and then resurfacing in light of recent events. and then slick. barely there, honeysuckle sweet, but getting more prominent with each second. all that wasn't as pronounced as it would have been were he a shifter, but still even he could smell it.

not just smell either. one look at charles would tell him all he needed to know. the omega was clammy, damp and not just from the water; his touch heated, reluctance at having to extract himself from amaridin's embrace. the cheetah's heat triggered, almost assuredly because of him. the proximity. his scent, mayhaps? he did work up quite a sweat. getting a face full of it certainly would exacerbate the issue.

amaridin? well he wasn't immune to the situation either.

the smell was intoxicating. better than any fae food or drink. the omega was so very ripe. but the elf had more fae-damned control than that. charles didn't deserve to have someone prop themselves upon him just because he was in heat. though amaridin did feel somewhat responsible for it.

wisely, charles seemed to take his advice. and by oberon, a glance at the man leaving caught him off guard. the fuzzy ears and tail detailing a very interesting image. gleoilya indeed. perhaps he ought to subscribe to the common word of cute, it seemed apt considering the circumstance.

the elf tilted his head back, moved it about a little, adjusting his neck to get himself reoriented to the matter at hand — his own ears weren't immune to movement either — he came here to prepare a meal and he was going to complete it. but first he'd had to clean up the mess. fire turned down to a low heat, he wasn't going to burn the vegetables but he can still let them cook. the elf scoured around for some paper towels, rags, whatever he could find from under the sink or around the kitchen. dabbing and wiping the floor most importantly with fabric before whatever else that got wet: cupboards, the table, the sink area.

amaridin made quick work of it and once that was thankfully done, the elf proceeded to finally stir fry the vegetables. it didn't take much more and by the time they were a nice vibrant colour, cooked to perfection, and tasted to ensure it was true. he both heard and smelt the owner of the house return. half of the freshly cooked vegetables, potatoes included went onto the plate of cubed chicken. now that was dinner ready, and had everything to make it a balanced and decently healthy one while still being flavourfully. "come in. it's ready." if charles was afraid of messing anything up he needn't be... if charles was afraid of him or his presence messing with his heat then well, amaridin was willing to extract himself from the situation. the elf filled the pot of pork off the stove then and went to the skin to add water that was initially supposed have already been added. wine and herbs and everything else followed after the pot was set back onto the stove. stirring the other half of the vegetables in, mixing them together as the pot was set for simmering. and now all they had to do was to wait for it to be reduced to a stew. that would be an hour or two. so best saved for supper or the next day's meal.

the heat of the kitchen, lowered as it now was after everything had been cooked, did not help matters. his own arousal bubbling up within him. now that charles was back in his vicinity, this was less than ideal. something the wereshifter would probably soon smell... with his keener senses and nose. still, amaridin kept his composure. placing fork and spoon on the plate while holding his own set. "enjoy. mantë." as much as one could while addled with crippling lustful heat.

charles suffered.

he stood in the living room among piles of papers, shifting & shuffling from one foot to the other as he watched the broad elf man the kitchen. a kitchen that hadn't seen nearly as much attention in ... a lifetime. nor had he, but that was ...beside the point. he felt out of place there now, not sure how to feel - how to act or how to ..behave. the house smelled like food & it was mouth-watering. he stood there & could practically taste the meat in his mouth already. okay, maybe that was the feline predator within him speaking.

predator?

well, the ....kitten. cat. right, yes. he was ... a cat. a big, ....big cat. carnivore & all that, yep. he'd been born to tear into flesh & ... stuff. he was born to-

it's ready.

that, thankfully, stopped him from another hour of pretty damn embarrassing mental rambles about non-existent prowess he had or maybe didn't have in him. he didn't. "o-okay." it... turned awkward so quickly when all this started out on such a ...good, gentle & soft note. then again, this is exactly how he'd write it, right? crush the protagonist, break his little heart & then, just as he's ready to give it all up, the prince returns - crown tossed aside (or space suit helmet if it's an alien sci-fi setting) & declares his undying love for him.

not that he expected any grand gestures, but .... okay, he didn't expect them, but that didn't mean he couldn't hope for ....them. one. just one. or maybe two. god, he didn't know what he wanted. okay, that was a lie. he wanted the elf to use his big strong arms to shove everything off the kitchen table, pull charles in with a long, hard tug & toss him on said now vacant kitchen table. did he actually see that happen? god no. well, the couch ...or coffee table... would also be okay. he wasn't too picky, so long as amaridin let his arms flex while clearing any surface for it.

as he stepped inside the kitchen, he .... walked into a wall of different ...things. heat - though not as badly as before, the stove surely slowly cooling down some, he smelled ..himself a little & god, the food smelled so damn good. but also something else. something that - if his cheeks weren't already pink & flushed .... would bring them into that state right now. he could smell it, clealry. the elf... he... he felt it, too.

because of him? really? was this ....true? it was probably just the heat speaking & charles knew not to expect much, but at the same time .... it wasn't like alphas were lining up outside to pop his cherry, so ... maybe ... if the elf... if he wanted to.... charles wouldn't refuse. he didn't want to die without knowing .... without... having experienced some more. mainly getting fucked by a handsome, tall alpha, but he could pretend there were more things on his bucket list. falling in love, he'd long since given up on.

"i—"

plate abandoned for the moment, he... turned around hastily - but not because the alpha's arousal worried him, oh no. but because a fatal error had been noticed when he stepped inside the kitchen. he'd ... sit there alone. he...didn't want to. so, with legs that really shouldn't be carrying him anywhere right now other than into a kneeling position, he tried to clear the coffee table in front of the couch. stacks of papers, books, his laptop .. everything went on the floor in a corner, piled up neatly but also not, because he was in a hurry.

wiping sweat from his brows when he was done, he must be stinking of slick by now thanks to all the moving he did, he did feel ...accomplished.. just a little. "d-do you ... umm... i shoudl've a-asked p-probably, but uh.. do you want t-to eat with me? h-here?" they'd have to sit on his makeshift bed, but ...that shouldn't smell any more like him than the entire house did, so... yeah.

even before he got an answer, he returned & slid past the other to grab his plate again, trying quite hard not to stumble & stab his eyes out with the knife on it & flopped down, glancing up at the other while he ...decided?

"mmhmm, just wait till you taste it." he wasn't an amazing cook, but certainly was proficient considering he made almost all his meals by himself since he learnt how to hunt. and the elf knew whatever he could cook up would certainly beat canned food, especially when eaten straight from the metal tub. if charles' grumbling stomach was any indication, he'd say it would agree too. back to the stove he went. tossing the vegetables into the pan. and not much else, since not much could be done due to the events that transpired next.

amaridin felt and heard the commotion caused at the sink at the same time. water splashed around, not everywhere but enough that stray flecks hit him. and additionally enough to leave a mess, on the floor or otherwise, that surely needed to be cleaned up. having the foresight to back away from the stove, keen elven senses working at their peak. the elf turned to react, only to have a very wet cat bump into him again, this time straight into his chest between his pectorals. as with before his hands moved to steady. both arms curling around the mass upon him, not in a full hug but close, pulling him in so he didn't continue on his warpath and trip again and out of his grip. making sure the cheetah's hands didn't go flaying about; who knows what he was prone to hit, preferably not anywhere near the table where the knife lay ready to draw blood. or the stove where the fire still burned below the pan. "i got you."

déjà vu. this was what? the third time in how many hours? two at most.

are felines not supposed to be agile characters? it certainly was strange. though falling against him twice might be a pattern... just not an intentional one, judging by charles' lack of... well planning (apart from the stories he wrote, or at least one would reasonably or comfortably assume). so that just confirmed one thing. auqua — which sounded much more graceful than the meaning of the word would imply — to perhaps a worrying degree. one could almost assume it was like he'd been glamoured. but amaridin, well, did have a soft spot for the feline associated, as gealithe could unquestionably attest to.

he remained... unaware of how his particular actions preceding this little hiccup would have caused this discomfort and subsequent chain of events. but perhaps thankfully aware of how his mere presence could do so. an alpha in an omega's house so close to their heat; a virgin one at that, and one that did not seem one bit social. this much interaction and unintentional physical contact must be messing with charles and his physiology.

with that knowledge, amaridin released his hold on the cheetah, detaching them. his own clothes now a bit damp from the contact with the drenched cat. the elf looked down at charles, smiling but not unkindly nor condescendingly. "maybe you should stick to just watching? and eating. though perhaps a change of clothes is in order? wouldn't want you catching a cold."

when would this endless line of ridicule end?

when was it enough? would it ever be? what the hell did he do to deserve this? to humiliate himself in front of strangers time & time again... how could that be fair? hell, he barely went out & still the one time he does, he was reminded why he never did. admittedly, picking up an alpha along the way had to be the best day of his life, but still... he severely doubted anything he'd done today had earned him any positive favors whatsoever.

the elf would most likely run the first chance he got & truth be told, charles ... wouldn't blame him. he couldn't. he was a damn mess. he couldn't even get a bowl of water. why did he even exist? what a damn waste of space he was. damnit.

while charles enduring his own personal meltdown (inside his head), he didn't notice how very snugly he was being held. big arms around him, face squished into the alpha's chest & his musky scent spreading throughout the feline's entire body, the elf's warmth soaked up by a very, very touch-deprived omega kitty cat. soft purr spread across his body, his little ears twitching among the blonde mane he called his own. kind of.

charles was ... blissfully content when he came to, warmth engulfing him, the elf's scent so nice on the nose - comfort & peace washing over him despite the rather ....unraveling effect the alpha's scent & touch had on his body. amaridin would most likely catch the change in his scent first, would smell arousal spiking in the air, would be able to - if faintly, because his nose surely couldn't beat a feline's, be able to tell that charles' body was preparing for the next step. who was he kidding, it was ready & practically dripping in anticipation.

cheeks flushed, sweat pooling on his forehead & breath hot - he sure made a sight to be seen then the elf all but ... split them in two. charles might've clung to his torso... just a little. a little. words snapped him out of his stupor & the blush all but darkened on his cheeks. "oh." right. that was probably for the best, though he couldn't help his heart from sinking at that moment.

rejection clear, if ... masked with a smile. one he could undoubtedly get lost in.

"i-i'll go... d-do that." tail tucked between his legs & ears pulled back against his head, the clumsy feline gave a little nod before he trotted off, up a set of stairs he didn't often pass, to find fresh (kind of) clothes in the drawer in the bedroom upstairs. might've been the heat talking, or the lack of self-worth he felt - or maybe both, but to be asked to dress ...instead of the opposite.. stung in a very strange & twisted way. no, he didn't know why he felt like this. or maybe he did, because he'd just put on a fresh pair of boxer briefs & they were wet already. "shit. no no no, not now."

calm down, deep breaths. maybe... maybe you can stall it. amaridin would most likely leave after they ate, that was what? two hours tops? c'mon, body. frustration was a heavy burden to carry sometimes, especially when every single thing he did tonight was ....frustrating. tears welled up, but he wiped at his eyes quickly & rigorously, making sure that when he came down the stairs again, he'd not make himself look even more pathetic than he had already. big sweater was pulled on for comfort reasons, jeans left abandoned for a pair of sweatpants. he definitely wouldn't impress with his new outfit either.

hunched over a little, left hand holding onto the elbow of the other so that his arm somewhat protected his front, charles returned, but .... kept his distance from the kitchen this time.

standing was .. not easy, his legs shook & the urge to curl up in his bed to wait for the worst to pass was ...indefinite. please make it quick, dear elf, so charles could lick his wounds in peace.

"of course. i'm sure i can procure the time." stories were... not something he read much of in the past; he told and listened to them far more frequently then reading them off parchment or scrolls or wood or stone or wax. access of those certainly was more limited then than now. books were something he'd occasionally picked up in the year he'd been here. sometimes he'd devour them, little worlds full of imagination — some similar to parts of his life and some very very different, wrong. still, he enjoyed most of them. books, after all, at least felt far more familiar than the television, computer or phones.

the elf was completely unaware of charles' terror of technically inviting him back to his house. one would have assumed that meeting again would not necessary dictate meeting in one's house, but for someone who never left their house it was a reasonable thought. and taking a book... or perhaps treasured stacks of paper with him, well that was nothing to be concerned about in amaridin's eyes. "the thought is most appreciated."

halfway prepping the elf changed his mind about the dish he'd been planning to make, figuring he ought to make more than just one. at least then charles would have actual meals the coming day or two when he was not around. he retrieved more vegetables and a slab of pork from the fridge and became systemically cutting them up like he had the other items before. once all the ingredients were prepared, the elf started the stove and began to fry the chicken, adding herbs, condiments and sauces. he made a mental note to find a place to keep all these later. surely there would be empty cabinets. once that was done, he removed them from the pan and placed them into a plate. before doing the same to the pork. the aromas of the stir-fried meats filled the kitchen, something that probably never happened in decades or at all. this time for the pork, he transferred the meat into a pot instead of a plate.

the heat from the fire had also begun to fill the kitchen and amaridin had found himself sweating as when he worked with metal and glass, though the temperature of this fire was so much less pronounced. the elf turned to charles and pointed at the deep bowl, "could you fill up the bowl with water?" amaridin then lifted his shirt up to wipe his forehead, exposing his stomach and well-trained abdominal muscles, along with the deep scar streaked across the left. just as quickly as it was revealed, the fabric settled back down when he released it, though a bit more haphazardly than before, sticking to the curves of his skin and leaving a hint of his midriff still within view.

#knifcdge \ 001 #knifcdge #pls imagine the gif is him falling ...against amaridin lmao

"y-you don't ..have to. but if you want to.. it's uh... yeah, you can." it wasn't like charles was going to force him into it - or expect him to spend time on reading anything he wrote. he wouldn't want to waste anybody's time - if he was being honest. he also knew & acknowledged that books weren't everybody's thing. but the fact the elf seemed somewhat interested made his heart leap a little in joy. not that he was going to tell him that.

he had copies of most of his works on the computer, so it wasn't necessary per se for the alpha to return them to him, but maybe charles just wanted ...that little backdoor to remain...open. he didn't think much of it, knew that he was not considered a great catch for most, but that didn't mean he couldn't .... wish. dream, some may call it. yeah, maybe he was a dreamer.

the elf didn't tell him to ...well, cut anything, which was a fair decision he wasn't going to question. so as it was, the feline stood behind him, off to the side a little & watched. it wasn't so much that he aimed to learn how to cut meat & vegetables, but .. it was just fascinating to watch him cut everything up into pieces. he sure knew what he was doing & part of charles envied the man. another reason he was not considered a good catch. he... couldn't take care of anybody - least of all himself. he knew that nowadays the rules & expectations weren't as strict anymore, so omegas weren't ....well, slaves, but ... still.

the scent that spread in the kitchen was unlike anything he'd ever smelled before. it wafted up his nose & filled his lungs bit by bit, slowly driving him crazy with a sudden urge in his stomach. it churned & rumbled in desperate need. something he really ... didn't ..know unless he forgot to eat for a few days. "that... smells good." it was then that the man turned to him & his eyes follows amaridin's to that bowl. hasty nod, quick feet carried him over to fill it with water as told, but he made the grave mistake of turning to face him while it did, just in time for the elf to lift his shirt. harmless to most.

but charles... couldn't help stare, eyes roaming his broad chest, strength & hard work written all over it. his heart quickened at the sight, even though it lasted barely a few seconds, fingers wet & movement a little ... sloppy, because he could still see a bit of skin & honestly? that entire damn scene had to be out of a book. one like his. cheap, stupid & of course when he lifted the bowl out of the sink, wet fingers lost grip, so it hit the edge of the sink, shot water across ...well, far & also at charles, his shirt somewhat drenched, which in turn made him jump because it was cold & because that chain reaction hadn't been long enough yet, he bumped into the elf again all the while little no no no no's accompanied him.

oh god, he'd died a damn virgin.

& he couldn't even blame anybody but himself.

unbeknownst to him, charles was waiting for his snow white moment — someday his prince will come and all that. perhaps what the cheetah needed was to get poisoned into a deep sleep. not that amaridin actually knew what snow white was apart from a folktale. well as it turns out, that day could very well possibly be today.

carpe diem. (or carpe noctem... since it was already night.) you beautiful feline.

"gleoilya." he repeated. "it’s uh — nothing bad or rude i assure you." not particularly sure how to explain it right. not just in terms of it being correct, but also if it was right for charles to even hear the explanation. still, it wasn't something either of them should think too much about. though it was curious how their ears were a fixture in each of their eyes.

adjourning back to the kitchen. amaridin continued his work. the elf focused his efforts on slicing and dicing the vegetables, though it seemed like hardly any effort went into the action. the expertise of such was second nature to him, and the speed and precision which said expertise allowed him to make quick work of the greens, reds, oranges, yellows... and other colours involved. and tossed into an empty bowl they went.

listening to the omega speak, more eloquently than usual, albeit still with a little stammer here and there, was immensely insightful. papers explained. so he was a writer. sequestering himself away. or dreaming of fantasy worlds beyond reality. living in the in between. art in his own form. in a way, amaridin could appreciate that. his own pieces, mostly practical, was art in of itself — both ones made of metal and glass. unfinished pieces were less common, most were made to order. but he definitely had some, those that were more artistic in nature, that remained stagnant during the times when creatively he floundered. though by contrast, the alpha's work space was definitely less cluttered, much cleaner. it had to be, dangerous as it was; working flame, metal and glass. "would you do me the honour of sharing a work of yours? you don't have to if you're not comfortable, but i am intrigued." interest piqued, wondering just what that brain of his was hiding.

"or perhaps you can tell me about one of these stories." with the vegetables prepped, he began to work on the meat. though an inquiry was prudent, “you’re not allergic to any meats i hope?” he hoped not, but that was why he'd even bought the variety of meats in the first place. concern satisfied, amaridin sliced and diced the chicken (or other meat) into chunks and cubes.

it appeared that charles would just have to live with not knowing, then. okay. he would ..have to trust him that it really wasn't anything mean. hard to believe, but also not - because amaridin seemed ...nice. not that he could really judge, they just met, but so far he'd been a perfect knight for him. so, yeah, maybe it wasn't too hard to believe that ... that word was something good in elven. he'd always wanted to dive into fantasy worlds on day, write a series of books about life was they experienced it - with suppression, magic, fear & wonders, but he didn't get around to it.

watching the elf do this, charles knew he shouldn't strive to match his skill - he doubted he ever could. colors flew, as did the knife in the man's hand, seemingly gliding through the vegetables - some he'd never seen before, with ease. maybe if he'd had parents in his life, he could do the same, but he wasn't mad. he didn't blame his parents for what they did - or didn't do & really, the food he usually ate wasn't that bad. he was still here, right? so.

charles didn't usually have visitors, nor did anybody ever ask him about his stories - most people didn't know he wrote - or that they were his, or ... that he loved writing despite feeling like he shouldn't because he was terrible at it anyway. the little niche fandom celebrating his latest series ... only partially helped silencing voices of doubt & self-loathing. he wasn't even sure why he told amaridin, he could've lied & claimed it was rubbish.

his inquiry was ... surprising, not because he didn't think the elf was unable to read - oh no. but he wasn't sure the man could find them even remotely interesting. he honestly didn't understand why anybody did. he was debating his response when the alpha brought up another concern. right. "uhm, no. i'm not allergic to meats." he thought. no, should be okay. "i think. n-never had any issues." so he assumed it was fine. he couldn't remember the last time he saw meat like this.

"a-and uh, about my... my stories. you.. you can read them, but umm... uhhhh, yeah. i've got them here. some.. anyway." he was the kind of writer (not a good one) who had his own published series set up in one of the shelves in the living room. his writer name .. wasn't actually his true name. not that it mattered, amaridin would know it was his once he showed him. obviously. not that charles was trying to hide per se - well, he was. but in an opposite direction. he wanted to hide who wrote them to avoid the ridicule. funnily enough ...the books weren't bestsellers, not really, but they did quite okay.

"m-maybe later?" after he died & crawled into a hole. "o-or you can take it with you a-and tell me what you think a-another time." which was when it dawned on him that ...he had just invited the man back into his house. "i-i mean... umm.. if you ever uh... you know.." want to see me again.

he was not a witness to prior events and only the evidence of scattered papers told a vague story... if one could piece them out of all the other stacks of papers lying around. amaridin assumed that charles would roughly know what each stack was, or so he hoped — it was after all the feline's natural habitat; in short it could be classified as an organised mess.

a question raised in his mind as the omega tilted his body towards him and it was then that his predicament was revealed. a hole or zip (another useful feature) at the back of his pants could be useful for such situations... and then he realised how it sounded if he were to voice it aloud. "if it gets you comfortable." he suspected his presence had an effect on that. the involuntarily transformation out in the street caused by the crass alpha and his display of power and machoism. amaridin wasn't sure if it was then the tail came out or only now that he'd been inside the man's house. and while he appeared unfazed by charles' own presence, the reality of it was a little closer than one would expect. his nature as both an elf and an aged man certainly helped. he's had years to develop control and was more collected than another alpha (especially one of another species, namely ones with enhanced senses) in his place would be. "you look..." he searched for the word, unable to come up with anything that would fit this time, or the english language. gesturing vaguely with his hand as he did so. "gleoilya." especially with the colour on his cheeks.

he smiled kindly, "you can observe? maybe learn a thing or two." he didn't think he'd want charles handling a knife. seems like it would end up an unmitigated disaster. "just don't trip and fall on a knife please." amaridin was teasing him a little, though it was very much a cause of concern. he was privy to healing magic, but he rather not bloody the kitchen up. "could help with the sink. maybe the stove." and even then a fire was not something he'd want here... not with all the stack of papers lying about. he'd seen many a house go up in flames in his lifetime.

amaridin turned to walk back into the kitchen then hummed and looked back his shoulder to see with charles followed. curiosity got the better of the alpha elf and he enquired, though he did have a rough idea, "curiously, what are those papers for?"

"gleo..... what?" head tilted to the side, because that was definitely a word he'd never heard before - or thought he would. was it ... a bad thing? or did it mean cat? but he'd know the word for cat if he spoke their language, wouldn't he? charles ...was confused, for sure, but even though that little voice in his head told him it could only be something bad if it was used to describe him, he tried not to let it show. he always felt even more insecure when yet another heat came by, reminding him that ...another month passed without him .... well, finding someone to spend it with. not that he really went out to look but how dare his prince not come to his hou.....

well.

stop it. he pities you, that's all. it was .. an important reminder, because charlie was a writer through & through, his brain always on the verge of dipping into fantasy. this..wasn't that. this was not some hollywood love story. he was not a main protagonist.

observe.

little nod, he leapt from where he sat, struggling a little as dizziness washed over him. moved...too fast. he was fine, though, awkward little grin on his lips. "i'll ..watch." he could do that. he...didn't trust himself with a knife either, fingers trembling & heart racing too much to even try. "i... i'll try." he ..would attempt not to stab himself, yeah he could do that. stove... may be a bad idea with how easily distracted he was currently, the elf's broad & tall frame so...so very distracting. his ears were beautiful. he truly looked like a man out of his time.

he slunk in closer, keeping his distance, but walking around the elf whenever he moved to keep an eye on his hands. they moved so... smoothly around the knife, like he was used to using it. charles didn't doubt he was. probably a ... hunter. someone who worked with his hands a lot. hard work familiar. his question caught him off-guard. "o-oh. ummm... it's uh, i write. drafted chapters. well, most of them. some are uhhh, failed creations i've yet to abandon." if amaridin paid the cheetah much mind, he'd notice a slight lack of tremble in the feline's voice when he spoke about his ...life's work.

“i-i know it looks messy. i uh… i need ummm… time to read them after i write, but then one day i dislike them… the next i don't so uh, they…linger.”

he sighed. it was starting to be less and less surprising. charles was... not really taking care of himself it seemed. doing the bare minimum to get by. feed his body enough to get through the day... even he even got through days, considering the amount of alcohol this man seemed to consume. oh, was he not aware that his ears had changed previously? it was involuntarily surely, but the elf figured he would have realised it before now. probably had to do with his awareness, again. adorable was starting to become an apt descriptor and amaridin couldn't help but let a small smile cross his features.

he began preparations for dinner then. definitely had enough for a meal for two, he knew he was probably staying to ensure charles actually ate the meal prepared. the elf started with rinsing the vegetables... and then realised he ought to wash away the dust from all the unused items, especially the knife, chopping board, pot and pan. at least the bowls seemed used enough — he didn't only eat straight from the can did he...

preparing food used to be different — well the general logistics of it was the same, but with advent of refrigeration, marination didn't mean just preservation anymore. not that he was going to let a marinade sit in the fridge for hours for this particular meal. most of his food back in the day was also meat from his hunts seasoned and then cooked over an open flame, usually outdoors by a campsite. clean running water was also not always readily available; though elf magic could certainly help with that.

amaridin started to slice up the vegetables; carrots, peppers, tomatoes and potatoes (not actually a vegetable) when he heard the sounds of distress. the alpha wiped his hands on his pants as he rushed out of the kitchen. "are you alright — " he began, only to see the cheetah... somewhat undressing. now that was unexpected. he should look away.

sometimes, he just popped open a can & dug in. cold ravioli were kinda good, really. but most of the time he really did warm them up in a pot or in a bowl in the microwave. lately... microwave more often than stove, because it was easier. he could slither off to write a little while it heated up, then the microwave would ding & he could forget it for a few hours because once charles was focused on writing - or music, he didn't snap out of it too easily.

he did have a towel in the kitchen at least. he did wash his hands quite often, so paper towels - he found, wouldn't do in the long run. cooking was something he never quite learned. his mother surely never took the time to teach him - though he had been quite little when she was still home to cook & with his parents dropping him money to order in most of the time because they were out of town or too busy unraveling the world's mysteries.... he simply.... hadn't ever learned to.

so it wasn't like he refused to. he just didn't know. besides, cans were easy. sometimes he got those fancy asian dinner boxes that came with tiny little extra bowls. one for the rice, one for the chicken, one for the sauce. he couldn't really get those too often, but he felt especially fancy when eating those.

he wondered what the other thought of him, coming in here & seeing his life in proverbial shambles, but if he wanted to turn around & leave ... he hadn't said so. would he tell him? or would he despise being here until he could leave & never be seen again?

then he came running & charles couldn't help his cheeks from turning the possibly darkest shade of pink. "yeah, yeah. i'm uhhh...ummm...." legs spread in a wide cross-legged position, he placed his hands down on the couch & lifted himself a little to turn to his side, baring his tail having slipped out of the back of his pants - hence the lack of a button. "i... sometimes i can't really c-control it." nerves. he knew it was the nerves. that & heat knocking ... he didn't have much hope of returning to normal while the elf was around.

he flopped back down, but eyed the other for a moment, "d-do... do you need me to... or i mean... w-want me to do ......anything?" help? could he even be a help?

the partial (or minor truthfully) shift caught his eyes but he made no mention of it. allowing the other the grace to keep his dignity. though he couldn't deny the fluffy ears almost looked... adorable in a way.

didn't pay attention? it was probably why the cheetah slipped and crashed into him in the first place. amaridin was speechless. the other would probably have been waylaid in the street if he hadn't been there. though the alpha supposed that blissful ignorance could be seen as a blessing really, not knowing when he'd been objectified on the street, seen as nothing more than a piece of meat... as long as he didn't get attacked of course. and it truly wasn't okay. though he suspected trying to convince charles would be a fruitless venture. as such, they walked the rest of the way, which admittedly wasn't much, in silence.

the scent of charles permeated the walls and the space he stepped into. it was one thing to smell him around, but to have the omega's scent everywhere in the old home... especially when he was about to go into heat...

perhaps this endeavour would be a little more trying than he thought it would be.

if he was honest though, it was mild concern as compared to whatever his eyes could see. this was worse than he thought. amaridin winced, almost imperceptibly. it wasn't unliveable, messy and cluttered sure, but it felt more like someone's storeroom than a living room — though the elf supposed the name was more apt in this case, it looked like charles lived in it and did everything in this very room.

amaridin was then led to the kitchen and the first thing he noticed was that it felt almost abandoned in a way. like he had the sinking feeling that most of these cabinets hadn't been opened in years; except of course the ones he assumed would hold all the canned goods and booze... the rest, aye, untouched. he wondered if the man even had a working stove. he also wondered if the fridge was even working but then realised it probably was the only thing that got frequent use in the kitchen: to cool his alcohol.

the elf gestured at the fridge and the cupboards where he assumed the cooking apparatuses would be. "may i?" amaridin waited for the other's assent before he proceeded to unload the purchases: whatever fresh food he wasn't going to use went into the fridge, the beer as well; canned food and snacks next to the dwindling and almost barren supply of both in the cabinets; and booze in the adjacent shelf. if he made any mistakes, charles would probably just correct it later when he wasn't there... though he had a feeling that the omega would just end up living with it.

the elf looked through a couple of cabinets and drawers before he found what he was looking for. pots, pans, spoons, forks, knives, chopping boards, a spatula. some of them were caked in dust. surely had never seen the light of day (or bulb) in possibly a decade or more. yes, this was indeed worse than he had initially thought. living like this through every heat was looking more and more like living like this in totality. he couldn't help but ask, "when was the last time you had a meal that wasn't canned food?" his tone was one more of worry than judgemental.

the brain of charles schaefer worked in mysterious ways. it was ...oftentimes working overdrive to try & deal with conflicting emotions - other times it worked so slow he could barely think. charles was not made for life the way most people were & that was okay. maybe he wouldn't have been against an alpha leaping on their chance to get him. it wasn't like he was desperate, but he really was. terrified, surely, but ...desperate. not that a living soul would ever know. maybe that was why he did this, why he led an alpha to his home despite his heat right around the corner.

for a moment, he thought he would end up unable to open the door, his fingers trembling & it felt like the lock was moving. when he finally let them inside, he felt regret wash over him instantly. the kitchen was through the living room, which ... well.. was not ideal. but he was here now, so.. he might as well. he hovered behind the tall elf as he roamed the kitchen, scurrying backwards a little so he could meet his eyes. "y-yeah. go ahead." the fridge was functional, charles knew that, but the last time he stored food in it was .. a while. sometimes, on very brave days, he ordered pizza & said pizza would last for a few days. he...ate it cold on the following days. no, he didn't mind.

his question, though, was understandable - if a little surprising given the reason he came here. "um." he thought for a moment, shoulders lifted into a shrug. "i-i don't know. i'm uh... a while? i.... i don't cook." he was incapable; it was a miracle he didn't set his house on fire yet while trying to heat up ravioli or something. "ummm." hand brushed through his hair, he glanced away, fingers found his furry ears & he audibly gasped. why didn't he say something? oh god. they twitched, but didn't actually vanish, even though he tried.

he would offer him something to drink, but ....well. instead, he turned around & went to fetch papers from the ground to at least try clearing the floor ...a little. while trying, he stumbled & fell face-first on the couch with an oof sounding. he pushed himself back up & rolled around onto his back to sit, legs pulled up underneath him. belt undone, he popped the button of his jeans to let his tail roam free. if he couldn't tuck it away again, he…at least had to let it out.

amaridin had been completely oblivious to the inner workings of the other's mind. but he did find it a little strange that the man had just waited for him while he had gone to pick out the ingredients for the meal he would be cooking later. it was something the elf waved off as one of the many idiosyncrasies the omega seemed to have.

he dropped his arm back down as he let the other lead the way. the sun had fully set by then and darkness had fallen with the moon peeking out over building tops. their way illuminated by streetlamps. "i'm amaridin." the alpha offered suddenly as they walked, realising that he hadn't yet introduced himself to the other... and he was already on the way to his house to cook for him.

someone walked past, examining the omega up and down, eyeing him hungrily. the stranger got too close, looking like he was about to get handsy as a wolf whistle rang through the air.

amaridin growled, eyes turning red as he reached out and pulled the cheetah towards him and away from the stranger (not that he himself wasn't also a stranger). as if to say, back the fuck off. it didn't take a genius to know what the passer-by was thinking. "suaroá sotalach yo blodren." the alpha muttered under his breath.

releasing his short grip on the cheetah for the second time that evening, the alpha elf apologised, "sorry about that." the audacity. the untoward alpha probably scented the same thing that amaridin had back in the store — that the omega was ripe for the picking, and had the blessed fortune of being completely untouched too. the elf would have punched the stranger too were it not for the crucial bags in his arms and hands.

he wasn't sure what about this was ....the most awkward, whether it was just his entire existence, which was a very viable as an assumption, or it was the entire ....dream-not-dream he was living through. it was ...out of a book at best & he still wasn't sure what was right or wrong, reality or make-believe, but he was taking this stranger home with him. his name, when offered, only supported the make-believe theory that spun around his head. amari...what?

the cheetah glanced up at that, eyes searching for the alpha's eyes in the dark, "charles. o-or charlie. i mean.. uhhhh, unless you think it's stupid. ch-charles is fine." such...an old man name. introducing himself to class had always gone well. charles. but it didn't matter anymore now, nobody had used his name in a long, long time ... sometimes he could swear he almost forgot it, but alas...

unaware of his surroundings most of the time, he almost didn't notice the other alpha - charles never really looked around him, he just rushed from a to b, which was usually home or to the store. didn't matter. he held his breath when sniffed, make himself as small as he could, which... well, he was short compared to many in town, so...but the el...amaridin.. thought differently? his little outburst had the feline almost scurry home alone, but he was held against the alpha's hip with a strong grip & honestly, that was all it took to make him weak in the knees - his scent so close, filling his lungs & making a home there. just ...like the elf had in his ...life?

a pair of furry little ears popped up on the side of his head to replace their counterpart & his slender tail pooled in the back of his loose pants, eyes golden in response, because how could they not be after that display of .... power....? "n-no... it's okay. thank...you? i-i... didn't pay attention." they ..weren't far anymore. well, they never were even though it felt like it to him.

seeing his home pop up in the distance brought an instant wave of calm over him, though nervousness popped back into his life when he brought the stranger closer & had to search his own clothes to find the key. yes, he was a mess. when he finally found it, he ...let them inside his humble little abode.... & truly wished he'd had time to clean up. stacks of papers filled most of the floor space, the living room screamed someone lives in me, empty beer cans & bottles scattered, makeshift bed on the couch & everything was dark, even after he turned on the light it was ...kind of dark. it was an old house...

"uhmmm... i ummm... the k-kitchen is through here." right. kitchen. he ...already felt a little safer, being back home, but then came in the realization that he brought an alpha here. an alpha. at least he wasn't hurt this time. the kitchen looked equally cluttered - not dirty, no... it wasn't used enough to be dirty, it was just ... old & cluttered with empty cans, whiskey bottles & a few used bowls.

it's then it clicked. canned food for a cat. took him a while since like almost everything else, canned food was somewhat new to him and the fact that people gave their animal pets that — weres emulating that wouldn't be the strangest thing in the world.

still there was the current matter at hand. the omega cheetah wasn't wrong, he really ought to be home; especially before any opportunistic people decided to ambush him. and as for amaridin? well...

he shouldn't.

he shouldn't intrude. or impose. but he just cannot in good conscience imagine sending this omega home with nothing in terms of actual food or comfort. it would be an utter betrayal to his senses and principles.

the eyes. the other's piercing blue eyes is what made the choice for him. something deep in those eyes called to him. the elf stood up, scratched at his beard. "at least let me cook you something simple." he wasn't sure if the other could say no, and amaridin wasn't sure if he even would; or even if he himself would truly be able to back off. still, the omega was very well within his rights to run away. before the cheetah could really protest however, the elf hurried down the aisles, picking out some proteins: chicken, pork, fish. more than one type in case the other favoured one over the other, or rather disliked one over the other... unless he didn't know considering it seemed like canned food was his staple and canned proteins were... very different. amaridin pulled some vegetables off the shelves, and then finally some condiments — in the event the other lacked them at home or a garden. all that should be sufficient for a meal (or three), nothing too extravagant, but definitely generous in nutrition and portion.

and then it was a quick trip to the cashier. and out of the store with bags of groceries in hand... as well as the canned food and booze. just in case. just in case the feline still needed them based on familiarity. amaridin extended an arm out for the omega to lead the way back to his home. "now, let's get you home and properly fed. and then i'll be out of your... fur."

wait. hold on.

rewind, scrap it all, what.

was .... hold on, fuck. was he dreaming again? did he just ...realize he was dreaming....in a dream? this had to be it, really, because he had no reasonable explanation for all of this happening otherwise. he got drunk yes & he probably was a little drunk still ...although the heat & anxiety probably burned through that quickly on the way to the store. regardless of that, the only explanation he had was this, because ... just as heat neared, an alpha coming into his life & offering to cook for him? that was fantasy right there.

if he didn't know better, he'd claim he already wrote about it in one of his books. what now? should he roll with it & see where this dream led him? was he mentally strong enough for another wet dream about an alpha he couldn't have? the last one that came into his home almost broke his nose, so... what was the worst that could happen, right? give in to fantasy & maybe his imagination would surprise him again.

by the time he'd ... kind of made a decision & somewhat blinked awake from imaginary slumber in the middle of the store, the elf had returned - of course, it was his dream. but he .... had gone to grab groceries? "ummmm.... okay." why not? what was the worst that could happen? that he'd not spend yet another heat in agony? oh no, how horrible. besides, dreams... would not come true.

they were out of the store before he even realized & he was leading a stranger towards his house...an alpha no less. well. charles was too busy staring on the ground, hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans as he walked, to notice the offered arm. "it's umm... it's not far."

if he was aware of what was going on in the other's head, amaridin would have chuckled at the mention of prince — he was far too hands-on for that, far too rugged, far too wild for the courts. he wasn't one to examine the differences too hard between the elves and their originators, the fae — at least not deep into the politics of it, none of that infighting and superiority complex — preferring to just live his life, day to day, but there were differences to be had centuries ago and what seemed like more even now.

the alpha had the feeling there had to be some kind of misunderstanding. unless he was completely dumbfounded at the idea that someone could or would actually feed him. and wasn't that thought and possibility worrying. "yes. home cooked food, a warm hearty meal." which he wouldn't have if he had nobody and didn't cook for himself. "meal service. food you take home; takeaway — takeout." he gestured vaguely with hands, unsure of which term was better used here.

"have you... uh... been living like this through every heat?" he shuddered at the thought of the other being uncared for, especially through the hardest part of the month or few months, depending. in a village, it was easier for people to care for each other, through heats, ruts or otherwise, even if some people fell through the cracks every now and then. he could not imagine that here, even though he knew the size of the town left much to be desired in terms of community.

blink.

gaze rested on the elf alpha's facial features - waiting for them to twist & turn into a mischievous grin of sorts, something that revealed that he had been joking & charles - being as naive & inexperienced as he (unfortunately) was ...didn't catch it in time. but ...there was nothing but confusion towards his reaction, which in return confused charles. was he offering home-cooked meals? or was he giving him advice on this, telling him to order food ...for himself when he was in heat? did he not realize that charles would potentially be inviting an alpha into his home this way? was he ...implying he should? what was he ...saying?

"uh... i-i mean... " if like this meant surviving on booze & cans, then ...yes. well, maybe sometimes charles felt frisky & went for ramen. or these fancy microwave meals for men. "ummm... i.. i guess?" what was the problem? he didn't get it. maybe it was something elf-related he couldn't understand, or a timetravel-y thing he also couldn't understand. he hadn't met one of their kind yet & the only reason he knew they existed in town... was the radio. would he prefer not dying alone? surely. but he'd long-since given up hope & accepted the truth. they were still somewhat hovering between check out & the story, which ....made him even more anxious.

what if they were in the way? the attention hadn't even been granted yet & somehow he doubted he'd even be noticed next to the tall elf, but the thought alone let his blood freeze in his veins, pulse-point probably going wild at this point. “i-i really need to… to get h-home. c-can we… i uhhmmm… i need to…” he'd been outside way too long already & his heat wasn't waiting for him either. this is why he didn't talk to people. he sounded like a dumbass.

"i couldn't very well just let you fall." especially when it was literally right into him. couldn't do nothing even if he tried. but he could have easily just let the man go on his own way once that was over — who was he trying to deceive? there was no way in hell he could. Some would say he had a bit of a saviour complex. maybe that was true. maybe it's all he's ever really known. protector. warrior. saviour.

he doubt it would change any time soon. world changed as it is. he was still the same old elf. the same old alpha.

he hummed; an old fae melody, some said was actually a calming spell, one they used on babies, children and the hurting, as he trailed along, following the other as the man proceeded to fill his hands and arms with canned food — another one of the miracles of the modern world — like it was the apocalypse, or so the elf had learnt. and then fate had a funny way of messing with them. the feline almost crashing into him again when the other stopped moving. contrary to what the omega thought, the alpha did not think he looked all that pitiful; just a little harried and distraught, all understandable considering his circumstance.

amaridin's had years to develop control. even if everything and people all smelled different here. but there was that strange allure to the omega, not just the melting pot of emotions, or the very obvious tell tale signs of a surfacing heat, or even the fact that, now he's spent enough time around the other, the omega was unmated but more importantly a virgin. a very dangerous thing to be. but everything under that, or maybe it was everything added and mixed together. "i can." amaridin took the burden off the cheetah with ease. he usually had a basket with him, which would have been really useful in the moment, but he had planned on going hunting this week and as such didn't need too much from the store.

and then they were moving onto the alcohol section and the elf took the opportunity to pluck an empty basket from one of the aisles, where he unloaded his armfuls of canned and boxed goods and snacks. question posed, and yes, while he did need to obtain some items, he was far more busy sorting thorough the stranger's potential purchases. from his position crouched down, he sighed, but did not want to seem too imposing.

"i think... someone needs to feed you." it felt like asserting control but amaridin reasoned that he wasn't picking out everything he thought wasn't good from the basket, nor was he putting anything in just yet. it was a suggestion, one that wasn't even that strongly worded. "get you some actual food to help you tide through your heat." the unnamed affliction now spoken out in the open. the omega didn't need to listen to him at all, he's already been through plenty of those, but he sincerely hoped he would. gods know the cheetah probably needed it — there had to be a better way then just curbing it with alcohol and cheap processed food.

charles didn't quite agree, but he wasn't going to start a fight about gratitude with an alpha twice his height in the middle of the grocery store. or anywhere else for that matter. it didn't matter either, because he'd expressed it & whether it was accepted or not...didn't matter. if charles wasn't ...what he was; a writer he probably wouldn't have assumed, but he was quite sure the man who carried his food through the store was one of the travelers. he couldn't explain it - or maybe he could, he'd not met one before, not like this, hadn't exchanged a word with one of them, but ... the difference, even if he wore their clothing & bought groceries at their store, he held himself differently.

okay, maybe he was totally wrong about that, but maybe not. he just felt like ... a prince brought to him from a time that didn't exist anymore. or maybe he'd just been raised well, because he doubted many other alphas in new haven would do the same. not that he met many of them to judge, but ..it was a valid guess. he may rush home most of the times he was forced out of the house, but ... he still picked up on things. sometimes. kind of. even if only for inspiration, of which his short trips to hell & back gave him plenty.

he was picking out bottles to carry when the other's words reached him & for a moment he thought he'd fallen asleep on the couch & this was just a fever dream. but then he spun around to face the other, the fact he was sorting through his chosen items not even registering while his mind tried to digest the words. "wh....wha.. feed me?" was that ...modern-speak for something? did that mean ..it sounded naughty. it sounded like something someone like him shouldn't be doing. fingers fidget absentmindedly with his hair, his heart picking up the pace once more.. "ummmm.... i... do you mean l-like... uhmmm.. i don't h-have anybody." he didn't have family or friends. it'd ...always been just him.