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Tremors

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He remembered the day Yuuri had his first heat, wide-eyed and too young for a fertile cycle, mouth open as Victor fucked his tender hole with slow, soppy fingers. The innocence of him.

Nobody had expected Yuuri to burn so early, although in hindsight all the signs were there. He had been skittish the week of it, had worked up an appetite and an anxiousness that wasn’t so out of character in the wake of Victor’s pending departure. War loomed like a heavy cloud over them all and Victor wanted to leave the capital for the borders. The prince had been on the way to a meeting with his grandfather when Yuuri caught him by the waist, rubbing his cheeks against the front of Victor’s shirt.

“Vitya,” the boy whined, his accent curling around the name. Vee-chi-yaa. His darling face was flushed, his eyes glazed. He felt feverish to the touch.

“Yuuri! What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel well,” Yuuri confessed, “Vitya.” That whining tone again, pitched just enough to pull at Victor’s heart. It was a child’s take on omegan charms, but it awakened a sense of urgency in Victor anyway. Yuuri was a sweet, soft-spoken boy, rarely ever demanding. He must be feeling ill indeed to resort to that.

Wasn’t he supposed to be at lessons? Where was his attendant? “We’ll get the doctor to look at you,” Victor reassured, although his mind was on the meeting. It would not do to keep his grandfather or the other lords waiting. He could find someone to bring Yuuri to the room and fetch the doctor, but the thought of leaving him alone in this state made his skin itch with protectiveness. Thinking quickly, he swept Yuuri up into his arms and brought him to the meeting instead.

His grandfather frowned at him for the unusual situation, but the sight of Yuuri’s frail state softened his face, and he allowed Victor to sit the boy down on the far corner. Victor was starting to suspect that Yuuri was suffering from pre-heat stress—all omegas experienced it differently, but the most common symptom was a fever and the latching onto familiar alphas. Yuuri whimpered softly when Victor deposited him on the chair, separating their bodies, but he quieted when Victor took his jacket off and wrapped him up in it.

“I’ll be done soon, Yurochka,” Victor had murmured quietly, “Please wait for me.”

The jacket was saturated with his scent and would be a comfort to the omega. He swept Yuuri’s fringe back from his flushed face and then turned back to the room, where the heads of noble houses were gathered around the table and politely trying not to stare. He met their gazes, back straight and head held high, his smile gilded and ready. “I apologize for my tardiness, my lords and ladies. Grandfather.”

“It’s fine, Vitya. Come sit so we can finally start.”

The first lord began to speak. The servants passed around tea, and Victor murmured for a cup to be given to Yuuri—sweet, not too hot—and watched the omega from the corner of his eye even as he made notes. Yuuri was docile, content to sit even as the volume of the meeting escalated. He brought the collar of Victor’s jacket to his nose and accepted a second cup of tea by the halfway point.

Victor was educated and had a gift for language and rhetoric, but he was young compared to these lords and ladies and had no experience in war. His grandfather discouraged of speaking out of turn. So he listened patiently, even as he questioned their strategy, and took details of their mannerisms and the movement of the pieces on the map. He didn’t need to worry about his lack of experience in battle soon. Training with soldiers was one thing. Putting his life on the line for king and country was another.

After the meeting, he would dine with Madame Lilia for etiquette lessons, and then afterwards meet with Yakov for history. Since Victor was set to travel soon, it would be prudent to review foreign customs. Lilia was difficult to sway, but maybe Yakov could be persuaded to let him beg off tonight’s lesson in favor of a reading assignment. Victor just didn’t want to leave Yuuri alone—who would care for him? Mere beta attendants? The thought filled Victor with indignity.

The meeting concluded without anyone yelling, which counted as a success, and once the Heads of House were dismissed, King Nikolai pressed both hands into the glands at Yuuri’s neck and grumbled thoughtfully.

“You should have brought him to his bed, Vitya. The war room’s no place for a heating omega.”

So it was as Victor suspected. “I’m sorry. He caught me on the way here and I didn’t want to be late. And he wasn’t any trouble anyway.”

The king nodded. “He’s always been a good boy. Tell Yakov to cancel lessons for tonight—”

“Really?”

“So that you can go to Lilia. Ask her to teach you how to comfort an omega.”

“I know that already.”

“Good. Study it again.” His grandfather pulled him by the shoulder and whispered advice in his ear so that Yuuri could not hear.

“Grandfather!” Victor gasped, scandalized.

The old man finally cracked a small grin and smacked his back. “Take your mate and go, Vitya. Burn bright!”

--

Victor quickly brought Yuuri to his rooms, then proceeded to give strict instructions to Yuuri’s handmaidens. They were to leave meals by the sitting room but venture no further into the private quarters. The bedroom had to be stocked with extra linens and pillows, and other private things a heating omega might require.

Yuuri reluctantly let him go, placated by Victor’s suggestion to nest the bed.

After an hour, Victor came back from Lilia red-eared and clearly embarrassed, but better armed for his first shared heat with Yuuri. His mouth tasted grassy from the strong dose of medicine he had taken. He and Yuuri had been betrothed for nearly eight years now, and though the prospect of an arranged marriage was daunting, in reality, affection between them unfolded simply and naturally. Yuuri was adorable and easy to love anyhow, and his scent smelled like comfort and companionship. Even Lord Giacometti’s son, also an omega and closer to Victor’s age, couldn’t inspire the devotion Victor had for Yuuri.

Maybe we were destined, Victor thought, fanciful and romantic for a moment. Maybe in a previous life we were star-crossed, and now life simply brings us together.

Yuuri had a book in hand when Victor arrived at his bedroom. Though his cheeks were flushed, he appeared lucid. He looked fresh from a bath and he smelled like rosewater. Georgi had been keeping him company, and they were pressed shoulder to shoulder. Georgi was an alpha as well, but he was family and regarded Yuuri with only brotherly love, so Victor did not feel the threat that would normally come from strangers entering his territory.

“Vitya, there you are.”

“Here I am! Thank you for keeping my Yuuri company, brother.”

“Of course. It’s been a while since I spent time with just Yuuri.”

Yuuri caught Georgi’s sleeve as he was leaving, and Victor saw the exact moment his brother fell prey to the boy’s adorable charms. Yuuri embraced Georgi, his small palms spread across the alpha’s broadening back, his cheek pressed against Georgi’s chest. “Thank you, Gosha.”

Before he left, Georgi put his fist over his heart and bowed in fealty to both of them. “May your fires burn bright,” he bade in the Old Tongue, though there was no need for such formality or ceremony. Still, it was incredibly kind of Georgi to recognize the significance of tonight.

So Victor returned the archaic blessing, inclining his head with fondness at his dramatic and tender-hearted kin, “Blessings be.”

--

Burn Yuuri did.

Throughout the night he cried from the strange roiling heat licking up his bones, from sleeplessness and frustration. He bared his teeth at Victor, once, growling under his breath at the alpha threat in his bed. Then he whimpered after he realized what he was doing, curling into himself.

“What’s wrong with me, Vitya?” He asked. He sounded very small and frail, and not at all in possession of a body preparing for a mating.

“Just a fever,” Victor whispered into his hair. “A very short fever.” He sounded like he was trying to comfort himself too.

--

It wasn’t just a fever—it felt like the descent into madness. Yuuri felt delirious, as if his skin was flaying apart, as if the very roots and veins of him would burst out of his body. Even Victor’s gentle touch hurt as it swept hair away from his face. Yuuri felt consciousness slip tremulously between his fingers, and the only discernible thing he could remember was the electric blue of Victor’s eyes, blue like the center of a flame, or the clear summer sky as one fell, backwards, into an endless abyss…

--

When Yuuri came alive again, it was to the sound of water dripping. He shifted, and the tepid water around him swirled. He was in the bathtub, he realized, and the body behind him could be none other than Victor’s. His head was tucked into the curve of Victor’s neck, and the alpha’s heartbeat drummed a steady song against his back.

Listless, Yuuri drew a hand up and watched the water slide off his fingers, the whorls of his fingerprints swollen and wrinkled. He must have been here for a while.

A larger hand cradled Yuuri’s, shockingly warm, brushing a thumb against the inside of his palm.

There was something about that motion, the surety, the tenderness of it that rocked him to the core. It sent lightning through his spine. His ass clenched, his cock stiffened—the heat came back and it was suffused with the scent of Victor’s skin this time—there was nothing else to do but muffle his hoarse moan into Victor’s neck. Victor startled at his reaction, and the thumb crooked, nail catching onto the crease of his lifeline, and just that bit of pain had Yuuri panting and writhing.

What is wrong with me, Yuuri wondered, even as he recalled with clinical detachment the words of the omegan textbooks they had studied together in preparation for this. He suckled a bruise onto Victor’s skin, partly out of claim but mostly because his mouth was already there, and Victor tasted good and he smelled like alpha, honestly what were they doing here, he needed this alpha inside him right now—

Yuuri stopped moving when Victor firmly gripped his chin and pressed their lips together. He made a sound of protest, muffled by their mouths, but the alpha kept him there until the fight melted out of him.

The gasp he took when they parted felt like the first breath of life.

Victor whispered his name, and Yuuri could only gasp and keep his mouth open and soft as he was kissed again, slower, deeper, their bodies curling around one another as if they weren’t already entangled. Victor had kissed him many times before, in fondness and out of habit, but never with such naked desire.

The hand on his chin was a new touch, a rough touch, and the fingers digging into his thigh were demanding. Rough and demanding were two things Victor never was with him, but Yuuri knew that as they got older they would only learn to grow like vines do across walls, exploring dips and cracks and filling in the empty spaces of each other. So this was new, but this was also good, and Yuuri whined as the tips of Victor’s fingers brushed against the pucker of his entrance, which was sensitive and tense and barely needed an exploratory rub for him to completely lose his mind.

Victor held him throughout his first burning tremor, watching half-lidded through his thick, snowy eyelashes, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

--

Afterwards, Victor guided his omega out of the bath and into the soft clutch of a towel. He dried Yuuri’s short hair with care, and with the white cloth draped over his head like a veil, he looked every inch Victor’s bridegroom. He silently preened at the thought.

His own drying off was perfunctory, impatient to get Yuuri to bed and taste him.

Victor kissed him again, deep, drugging, lips traveling over the curve of Yuuri’s cheek and the strain of his neck when Yuuri turned his head to take huge gulps of air. The omega squealed when Victor’s tongue flicked and dipped into his ear, feet skidding against the sheets in surprise, and when their cocks accidentally pressed together for one blissful moment, Victor thought he might die.

“Yuuri,” Victor moaned, nose pressing against his neck. The omega’s scent had shifted into something darker, richer, curling right into Victor’s lungs and winding around his heart, seeping into his blood with every frantic beat.

His teeth itched. He wanted to bite down right into this spot here, where it was soft and fragrant and so very warm…but he hid his teeth and spread only gentle kisses. He had vowed to care for Yuuri, and if it meant denying himself, so be it.

Smaller hands crawled up to Victor’s back, and the burning trails they left caught the alpha by surprise. Yuuri’s legs wound around him, and his arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Victor felt caught, a prey to their mutual desire. Yuuri had tipped his head forward too, sucking at the vulnerable junction between shoulder and neck. They breathed each other’s scents in, losing their senses, failing in their judgments—falling to baser instincts.

Chapter Text

“Fuck!” Victor shouted, eyes snapping open as blunt teeth sank into his neck. Underneath him, Yuuri growled, pinning Victor in place with his mouth. The omega stayed growling for the few moments Victor froze in position, until the alpha had no choice but to settle back down, pressing them together from head to toe. Only then did Yuuri relinquish the bite, tangling all four limbs around Victor again, keeping him in place.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Victor whispered, although Yuuri only responded by soothing the injury with long laves of tongue. Omegas who felt comfortable during their heat generally enjoyed them—the desperation Yuuri conveyed in that bite was severely out of place for a mated heat.

Except.

They weren’t actually mated yet, were they?

Victor had thought of them as mates for so long that he often forgot that they had yet to consummate their bond.

He’d only meant to fix the curtains around the bed. Dawn was breaking and the morning would lighten the room. Yuuri’s corner bed was specifically made for omegas, built with heavy wood and thick curtains that would contain the scent of the nest and keep it dark and comforting. Yuuri must have taken Victor’s moving away from him as abandonment, which explained the aggressive bite to keep Victor in place.

“I’m sorry, dearest,” Victor murmured. He had been so focused on not hurting Yuuri that he had failed to notice the cues the omega was giving. “I’m not very good at this. Will you let me fix it?”

Yuuri bared his neck and Victor gently set his teeth to it until it held the imprint of his bite. He sucked on the spot until it was bruised and reddened, and gradually, the tension in Yuuri’s body melted away. The sour note of his fear evaporated, leaving only the scent of his heat.

Victor trailed a hand down and dipped a finger inside Yuuri, just a tip, just to see how swollen and open he was, and what he felt there made him groan. There was no small wonder why it was called a heat , Yuuri burned on the inside like the most enticing inferno.

Yuuri pushed back onto his finger, whining, legs falling open. The love bite Victor left on his neck was slick, and down there his body was even slicker. The alpha watched with an open mouth as he twisted a finger inside Yuuri to the base, marveling when a second finger slid in just as easily.

He watched Yuuri’s beautiful face as he uncovered the wet secrets inside him, finding pleasurable spots like they were treasures, memorizing the intimate crevices that made him shiver.

“Vitya,” the omega sighed, and the sweep of his sooty eyelashes made him look sweet. Demure, almost, for all that Victor was doing to him. Yuuri twisted his hips, he bit his lip, he shook with another orgasm and the prince marveled at the way the omega’s inner walls rippled over his fingers as if trying to milk a knot dry.

Gods , but he wanted that more than anything, to find pleasure inside his mate and leave his seed where it would take root.

Victor squeezed his knot with one hand and used the other still wet with Yuuri’s slick to pump himself. With a cry, he released all over Yuuri’s stomach, covering him in his scent. The air was ripe with the pungency of mating.

Through the aftershocks, bent over Yuuri’s vulnerable form, Victor noticed the morning light brightening up the room. “Yuuri, I’m going to fix the nest, alright? I’m not leaving, sweetheart. I’m just going to fix the nest. Don’t move.” Despite the reassuring spiel, Yuuri kept one hand around Victor’s ankle anyway as the alpha stood on the bed and closed the curtains, making sure as little light as possible entered the bed.

Yuuri cuddled right up to him just as he lay back again, and Victor couldn’t resist drawing the omega into his arms, cradling his head and rubbing circles onto his back until Yuuri fell asleep.

--

The medicine Lilia had prepared for him staved off a reactionary rut, and Victor was thankful for it. It was a stronger dosage of his usual suppressant, and it left him feeling calmer, slightly detached from his body. It was immensely useful for caring for a heat-crazed omega that wanted nothing more than to get on hands and knees and present his sopping hole to his alpha, enticing him to mate.

Instead of being caught in the frenzy of rut, Victor had the mind to coo at his omega sweet encouragement, peppering his skin with kisses and calming him with soothing licks when the heat made him frantic.

Like now, for instance. Yuuri had been impatiently waiting for Victor to fuck him with something other than his fingers, leaning on the bed on his elbows and arching his back, his pert ass wiggling from side to side. Victor licked a line from balls to hole that made him keen. He panted as the alpha made love to him with his tongue and lips, limbs trembling from the tremors of another orgasm.

Sometimes the need in Victor flared out despite the medicine, and he watched Yuuri’s slick pink hole with a hunger that startled him. It would be so very easy to take the omega by the hips and spear him on his knot, then bite right onto his bonding gland. The heat would block any sensation of pain. Gods, Yuuri was even crying for it now, and omegas out of all dynamics were meant to be resilient against the onslaught of an alpha rut.

Victor licked his lips, tasting slick, and watched his own hand where it was pumping his cock. He blinked, and willed his hand to uncurl and reach for the toy at a corner of the nest. He felt slow and stupid, as if he were moving underwater—part of it was exhaustion, part of it was the sedative effect of the suppressant, and part of it was simply the arresting effect Yuuri had on him. His alpha didn’t want to own Yuuri. It wanted to revere him, care for him, dote on him. The omega was younger, smaller, and much frailer. Every protective instinct Victor had come to the fore.

Victor worried that he wouldn’t be able to control himself, but he should have had more faith. This heat was unexpected and off-season, likely the reaction of an omega desperate to keep their alpha in place. If they knotted and bonded now, Victor would never be able to travel at all, so it was crucial for him to keep his wits about him. And Yuuri would never forgive himself for holding Victor back.

Despite knowing all that, it was still so difficult .

“Ohhh…” Yuuri moaned as clenched around the plug the alpha pushed inside him. His legs shook again as he came, and a long line of slick leaked down his thigh. Victor watched it run down with wide eyes.

“Darling, can I—” Victor wiped the wetness all over the inside of Yuuri’s thighs. He had to manhandle Yuuri to keep his knees together so that Victor could squeeze his cock between that creamy softness. “Oh, fuck ,” he cursed again, beginning to thrust. Every time he moved, the toy jostled, and Yuuri gasped at the feeling. Victor set his palms flat on the bed, bracketing Yuuri, pleased at how easy it was to range over his mate. Like this, he could nuzzle at Yuuri’s hair, and whisper lovingly into his ear. He shifted his weight until it was mostly on his arms and knees, and settled in for a long fuck.

The motion of Victor’s body and the placement of the plug simulated a true mating. It satisfied Yuuri’s inner omega, which would normally misinterpret Victor’s reluctance to mate him as a personal failure. The steady rhythm Victor set allowed Yuuri to pass through four more delicious tremors, each as delightful as the last.

Victor tired before they reached the fifth, abdomen and back burning.  He flipped them over so that the omega was lying on top of him, back to chest. It was hard to breathe, but Yuuri was so warm and soft that Victor couldn’t help running his hands over the omega’s plushy stomach.

Yuuri moaned when the alpha pressed down on his navel, squirming as the toy found new ways to pleasure him. Victor adjusted them further so that they were sitting against a base of pillows against the headboard. Yuuri turned his head and breathed harshly into Victor’s neck as the alpha grabbed hold of the base of the plug and angled it in such a way that Yuuri cried out, “Vitya!” in a hoarse voice.

“Please, please,” the omega begged. He bent his knees and spread his legs as wide as they could go, and Victor’s hand cramped as he thrust the toy in and out of his hole. Yuuri took his own cock in hand and pleasured himself frantically. When Yuuri finally shook with the fifth orgasm, Victor could feel the way it melted his bones—Yuuri’s weight sagged and the tension in his body evaporated. Victor gently tipped them onto their sides and sighed with frustration and relief both, sucking a bruise on the omega’s shoulder blade as he relieved his hardness, spilling come all over nest and mate.

--

Victor woke sometime afterwards to Yuuri squirming and trying to press closer, grinding against his hip. It was so dark inside the nest, humid and warm and smelling like Yuuri’s slick, and Victor could only groan when the omega took him in hand and guided him between his thighs.

“Like this,” Yuuri whispered, as they lay side by side, and while Victor thrust between his thighs, Yuuri ground against his belly, and they clutched each other close and kissed messily, tongues tangling, wet and warm. Victor tired already after coming once, but Yuuri was afire, and he pushed Victor onto his back.

“More, Vitya,” Yuuri demanded, intent.

Victor dropped his head onto the pillow. “Sweetling, you’ll be the death of me,” He groaned, stretching his arms above his head, popping the joints of his shoulders and neck. “Come here, then.”

The prince guided Yuuri to straddle his chest, stroking the boy’s cock just to see him jerk and moan. He loved watching Yuuri like this, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure, his face pink from exertion. He was careless with his nails and where he bit, and Victor ended up scratched and marked and bruised. It was a side of him that Victor had never seen before; the heat had peeled away all of Yuuri’s reservations and good manners to expose the wanton creature beneath. Victor loved it.

When his wrist hurt from pulling two more tremors from the omega and still he wanted more, Victor crossed ankles and pushed Yuuri lower down his body. “Turn around," Victor suggested, and when Yuuri hesitated, he guided the omega to a kneeling position facing Victor's feet. Yuuri's asshole was pink and dripping even around the plug; Victor bit his lip and groaned at the sight, squeezing the omega's asscheeks just to feel how soft and plush he was.

"Put your cock between my thighs,” Victor murmured, tucking an arm behind his head and keeping the other hand gripping one cheek open as he watched Yuuri discover the pleasure of fucking into the smooth, damp skin. Yuuri moaned and rocked into it, spread his knees wider on either side of Victor as he rode him. His ass occasionally rubbed against VIctor's balls, and Victor reached down to stroke himself while Yuuri lost his mind.

“Vitya, Vitya, ah!” Yuuri cried, his back a lovely arch. Victor clenched his thigh muscles as Yuuri’s cock throbbed in his orgasm, and his hole tightened around the girth of the plug. There was no ejaculate, as Yuuri’s body concentrated all his slick onto his ass, but it only meant that Yuuri could seek his pleasure endlessly without tiring, unlike alphas who cycled through frenzied rutting, knotting and sleeping.

The plug was serviceable, but a real knot would have given Yuuri the relief he was seeking. Victor tried not to think about how badly he wanted to give that kind of relief, to jerk the plug out, grab the omega by the hip and impale him on his length. Victor poured his frustration into fucking the toy in Yuuri the way he couldn't.

It took Yuuri a long while to settle down and tire himself out, and even while resting, he couldn’t help but draw back towards Victor’s cock. There was no urgency in him, not yet, and when he sucked it in his mouth, he looked like he was savoring the taste of it. The primal, savage part of Victor wanted to grab Yuuri’s nape and push him down until he choked on his seed, so he gripped his own wrists and set them above his head, nails digging into flesh as he fought for self-control. Yuuri’s mouth and hands traveled down the shaft and kissed the base of his cock where his knot was starting to pop, and Victor stomach strained at the incredible sensation it provoked.

“Yuuri, look at me,” he panted, so close he could taste it. The omega glanced up, his eyes sparkling with desire, tongue lapping at the hard flesh, right before he planted his soft, red lips down at the knot—

and sucked

hard

until Victor swore his life flashed before his eyes. Yuuri made a noise of surprise when Victor came, cock pulsing out so much seed it coated his neck, shoulder and his bonding gland. The alpha panted for air like he was dying, incredulous at the omega sitting smugly between his thighs.

“I smell like you now,” Yuuri declared, glowing with his triumph. “You’re mine, Victor Nikiforov.”

The alpha could only collapse against the nest and silently pray for mercy, conquered body, heart and soul.

Chapter Text

Victor’s hair was hopelessly tangled where he lay asleep in Yuuri’s nest. It made him smile, because Victor was so vain about it, and if he were awake he would have insisted the omega brush it out for him. Yuuri remembered the first time he saw him, sat astride his horse like a prince from a maiden’s song, his lovely hair a silver rope over his shoulder. Yuuri’s heart had galloped so fast, as if to say with each double-beat, at last, at last, at last!  

Yuuri loved him the moment he laid his eyes on him, but he could barely speak a word to the prince the first few days after the initial greeting. Victor had to chase him around Hasetsu Castle and trap him into conversation. The little gifts came afterwards, passed through the hands of servants, slipped into his pockets when he wasn't looking. When their betrothal was announced, Victor had told him he never had to wonder if he belonged by Victor's side ever again, never had to hesitate or doubt.

My alpha, Yuuri thought with wonder, tracing the cut of his cheekbone, admiring the beautiful moue of his lips. He leaned up on one elbow, careful not to catch Victor’s hair under his arm. He was a beautifully made man, almost delicate, if not for the distinctive Nikiforov nose. Would their children have his nose? Would their children—children!—Yuuri felt his belly stir with heat, the thought of Victor’s seed inside him taking root and bearing fruit making him gasp—his hole was dripping, and an ache was building up inside of him, a hollowness that was bringing on an edge of desperation.

He kissed Victor to try to awaken him, one kiss, two kisses. Smelled his strong alpha scent, nuzzled under his jawline. Nothing. Yuuri peeled the sheets back and bared his skin. All that strong, lean musculature, the glorious dips and lines of him, the hair on his stomach, leading down to his cock. Yuuri laved his tongue over him, and sucked bites into his skin, staking his claim.

His cock was soft and fit in Yuuri’s mouth. He suckled on it, warm on his tongue, the smell of alpha musk strong from here. He could stay here and just doze, content in the knowledge that he had Victor safe and warm in his mouth, but the emptiness inside him demanded he make sucking pulls and ready his alpha for him, get his cock and knot inside him.

Victor grew flushed and rigid in his hands, firm enough to put inside him. “Yes,” Yuuri whispered, almost frantic with pleasure, straddling his alpha and reaching behind him to aim his cock at his hole. “Yes, yes, yes!” The head felt so good against his rim! Yuuri rocked back and forth just to enjoy the sensation, slick easing the grind against his hole and his taint.

It wasn’t enough. He wanted his alpha inside him, wanted to be filled, stretched, seeded, marked. He almost came at just the thought, hovering over Victor, his insides fluttering. He adjusted his angle, it was more difficult than he imagined, Victor was bigger than he expected, it kept slipping past his hole and he was just so wet—

Underneath him, Victor woke up, and the growl he made had Yuuri’s blood freezing in his veins. 

Between one breath and the next Yuuri was flipped onto his back, belly exposed. Victor snapped his jaw and Yuuri immediately bared his neck, shaking at having displeased the alpha.

“V-Vitya,” he quailed, and yet his traitorous body gave another gush of fluid at the show of dominance.

The alpha continued to growl, but it softened after a few moments, and then Victor became silent, assessing him with a sharp, heated gaze. The silence shamed Yuuri more than anything. He was ready for a reprimand, because they had both decided to wait on knotting, and Yuuri had brought them so close to crossing the line, so close to undoing all of the plans Victor had spent months, years preparing for.

Yet Victor only kissed him, only lay down beside him and curled his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, comforting his wretched sobbing. Only put his fingers inside the omega’s aching body and brought him to another gasping orgasm, only wrapped Yuuri so thoroughly around him that he could never mistake how much he was cherished. Forgiven.

“Hush, sweetling,” Victor crooned, as Yuuri keened and brought his hand to his stomach, right above where a child should have been. “It’s alright.”

“I want, I want...”

“Shhh, I know,” the alpha began to let out a rumbling purr, guided to spoon against him so he could feel the vibrations in Victor’s chest against his back.

A baby, VItya, I want a baby, ” Yuuri babbled in his native tongue. He was burning up again, delirious from presentation fever and the agony of an empty womb. “Your hair, your beautiful hair…

“My hair,” Victor agreed, “Your eyes, your smile. Your laugh. You’ll be a wonderful father, my love. Rest now, so that the baby can sleep.”

Baby?” Yuuri whispered to himself. “Yes, sleep for the baby.

“Close your eyes, darling.”

Eventually, Yuuri relented to the pull of exhaustion, curled protectively around his middle. Victor dare not let himself imagine a child with Yuuri’s features, lest he be tempted to forego the war against his better judgment.

It took the better part of a week to complete Yuuri’s heat and to recover from it.

When Victor finally emerged from the room, he looked like an alpha thoroughly owned. His neck and chest sported an impressive number of love bites, and his back and arms stung with nail marks. Even the high collar of his clothes could not disguise Yuuri’s claim. It would take days, maybe weeks for the worst of them to fade, and he gingerly touched his kiss-swollen skin. He was set to travel soon, and from the capital to the borders to the next kingdom over they would see how his omega had ravished him no matter how strategically he hid the bites behind a curtain of hair. Victor grinned to himself ruefully, pressing against the bruise on the apple of his throat.

Yuuri had blushed prettily when he realized what he had done. The omega hadn’t gone unscathed either, but of the two of them, Victor looked much worse for wear.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, flush high on his cheeks. “I hadn’t realized.”

“My love, I would wear your marks proudly,” Victor proclaimed gallantly, placing a kiss on the omega’s knuckles. “It’s certainly nothing for you to apologize for.”

Victor’s muscles felt overused, his skin chafed against his clothes, and his manhood felt tender from Yuuri’s, ah, enthusiastic handling, but he felt thoroughly satisfied.

The intimacy they had achieved during the heat was worth all its uncertainty when Yuuri reached up on his tiptoes and kissed Victor out of his own volition, right in the hall where everyone could see.  It was chaste and quick, but to do so he had to bodily pull Victor down by the front of his jacket. Victor had made a surprised sound, loving it whenever Yuuri was rough with him, like it was well within his rights to manhandle the crown prince.

“I know you have to go but...swear to me you’ll come back safe.”

“I promised you a child, didn’t I? With my hair.”

Yuuri reddened but didn’t deny the claim. Victor kissed his apple-red cheek and tried not to mourn too hard the loss of this simple pleasure.

— 

In the hours before he entered Yuuri’s rooms to experience their first heat together, Victor had warred with his pride and his heart.

“If you mate that boy now,” Yakov had said, “You could stay, Vitya. There is nothing wrong in it. You are the crown prince, let your uncle do the warring. Stay here and let the kingdom look to you for stability.”

Victor carefully watched Yakov, his tutor, guardian and father in all but name. His eyes traced the lines on his face and on the thinning hair that spoke his age. In Victor’s childhood he was the warm chest that he cried on, the large hands that steadied him when he faltered. He was not so imposing a figure now, while Victor only continued to grow into the shape of a man. Yakov had done his best to sway Victor into staying, and some part of him still felt compelled. “You know why I have to, Yakov. I’ve made up my mind. I won’t speak anymore on the matter.” 

The man sighed, “Good kings listen to their advisers.”

“Good kings earn their right to rule. And anyway, if I die, Georgi can take my place.” Victor grinned impudently at him. “He’s better at listening than me.”

“God’s blood, don’t laugh about that, you foolish boy!” Yakov growled, irate. Victor could see the vein throb in the man’s temple, the resigned tilt of his head. The prince reached out and embraced his old tutor, squeezing him with a strength that he didn’t have when he was much younger. When did Yakov’s bones feel so sharp? 

“I will come back, Yakov,” he promised, “I will come back, and I will be a good king. What else have you raised me for, anyway?”

I will be a good king , Victor repeated to himself, allowing himself one last glance. His beloved Yuuri waved, a distant figure. The seagulls cried out above them all; the sound of home bading him goodbye.

His army marched on.

And so Prince Victor of Houses Nikiforov and Plisetsky turned towards the gates, to other kingdoms and to war, to earn his right to rule.