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Nokk on Wood

Chapter Text


Caz shuddered as another pang tore through him, leaving him trembling. His insides burned, a tight ache radiating out from his thighs and crotch, and as he rested his forehead on the dinner-table he felt a soft keen tear itself unbidden from his throat. It mingled with the sound of wind and rain outside the facility, a howling storm that seemed intent on tearing the small peninsula clear off the mainland.

A cool, unwebbed hand touched his arm, and he looked up to find Dr. Humphries gazing down at him in concern. Tall and blocky, with a scruff of blond hair, and slightly vacant blue eyes that made him look like he was permanently lost. “Come on,” he murmured, “let’s get you out of here.”

“Wanna see Ollie,” Caz whispered. His legs were trembling to the point where he wasn’t sure he could stand, and Humphries must have noticed - he scooped Caz out of the chair with a grunt, and tried to position him in a firemans’ lift.

That wasn’t right. Caz squirmed in his hold, obeying some deep instinct. He needed… what? He didn’t know. Then he managed to wrap his legs around Humphries’ waist and the tight ache in his thighs eased a little. Oh, yes. That was it. He coiled his arms around his mentor’s neck and ground against him uselessly. Make this go away…

“No,” Humphries said softly, and Caz had to remind himself that it wasn’t a response - the man didn’t have the same touch-telepathy ability that he and his brethren did. He pulled Caz tighter against him in a vain attempt to stop the grinding, then set off at a near run. Out of the cafeteria and into the halls, followed by concerned and confused glances from both staff members and beta nokker.

“Need Ollie…”

“Not until his heat is over or we can get him some help,” Humphries gasped, taking a corner at full pelt. “This storm is complicating matters.” They narrowly missed smacking into the wall. The last time he’d carried Caz like this, Caz had been seven and significantly smaller; the years since then had doubled the weight and added several lanky feet to the burden.

…Also the seven year old hadn’t been grinding against him in a desperate attempt to assuage the burning ache of his twin’s heat.

Caz groaned. At least the bouncing gave some stimulation.

“Should have realised it would affect you - maybe if your change wasn’t due yet, but as things stand…” Humphries muttered, slowing to a tired stride as he approached Caz’s bedroom door. He sighed. “I know you want to see him, but you can’t while you’re both in this condition; I don’t like to think what the pair of you might get up to.”

Every scrap of yearning coalesced into a ball of frustration in Caz’s gut. “Fuck you, Humph.” He bit his lower lip. A small part of him couldn’t believe he’d said it, but another part meant it.

Humphries tensed for a moment, but then shook his head and opened the door. “See what I mean? You’re not yourself right now.”

Any reply Caz could have come up with was cut off by being unceremoniously dumped into his pool. Humphries was gone before he surfaced, the door locked behind him with a sharp click.

Caz scowled at it, then pushed down and sank past the underwater shelves and nooks to rest in the depths. His inner thighs ached with emptiness. He shoved his arms between them and squeezed, but it didn’t help enough. Something bigger?

But that was only treating a symptom, not the cause. The cause was Ollie. Ollie’s heat cycle kicking in, dragging his twin with him even though Caz hadn’t made the metamorphosis into their adult form yet. More than old enough, but not mentally ready to make the necessary sacrifices - maybe if he’d known from being a little kid, but a couple of months wasn’t long enough to come to terms with it.

The heat flared and Caz doubled over, clenching around his arms again and humping his smooth crotch against them. He had to get to Ollie - to yell at him for being such an absolute bastard, if nothing else. I don’t even have the equipment to make this go away! At least you do!

He wondered whether he was imagining the apologetic thrum against his mind. The wash of frustration and hunger that came with it suggested that he wasn’t.

If the heat was this strong second-hand, it must be hell first-hand.

Caz swallowed, then pushed up to the surface. There was more than one way out of his bedroom.