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Baby It's Cold Outside

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It was the most obnoxious time of the year.

Peppermint and gingerbread, holly and evergreen, ribbons and bells – all attempts to ignore the fact snow was blowing in their faces and the fourteen-degree windchill. Peter trudged from the subway to the Avengers’ Tower, scarf and coat collar pulled up over his face and hat pulled down over his ears. He secretly hated December – the fake cheer, the bitter chill, how everyone kept chattering about finding a “cuddle buddy” for the season.

Peter’s electric blanket and mountain of pillows was good enough, thank you.

He scanned his ID and placed his bag on the security conveyor belt. Him and his bag went through the scanners without incident, and he retrieved it before joining the rest of the crowd heading into the building. Another swipe of his ID got him into the elevator that rocketed him up to the Research and Development Department, the last floor before the Avengers’ private rooms. It was a place of honor to be working on that floor – Peter was both the youngest and one of the few omegas working there.

The “office” area of the floor were squares divided by blurred glass, making the people within them appear like smeared oil paints. Peter dropped off his bag and hung up his various pieces of winter wear to dry. He sat down and booted up his computer, tapping through report after report about the synthetic spider silk tests. Textile Engineering was having good luck with it as a lightweight bulletproof material—

“Hey, Peter!”

The door to his office creaked open, and a brown-haired head poked its way in. Peter groaned, his pen coming to a stop in its frantic scribblings across yellow legal pads.

“Hi, Lewis,” Peter mumbled. “Do you need anything?”

Lewis stepped fully into Peter’s office; Peter knitted his brow and narrowed his eyes. He was always invading Peter’s space.

“A couple of us are going out to lunch at noon,” Lewis said. “Some place warm, you know?”

The last time Peter went out to lunch with Lewis, the others mysteriously cancelled, and an incredibly painful hour followed.

“I’m good,” Peter assured. “I’ve got a lot of work to do…”

“You’re always working,” Lewis laughed. “Do you ever relax?”

No, Peter thought and said, “I find time.”

Lewis opened his mouth to say some more nonsense, but the PDA system sparked to life and Tony’s voice crackled over them—

“Good morning all my hardworking employees! A friendly reminder that our Christmas weekend is in two weeks, and that you need to register a guest or find a coworker to bunk with! Toodaloo!”

Peter froze, pen clutched in his hand.

“You know, we should bunk together!” Lewis declared. “Wouldn’t that be great?”

“I can’t,” Peter spat out before his brain caught up with his mouth. “Uh.”

“Why not?” Lewis asked with a grin. “It’ll be fun!”

“Because…” Peter grasped at an answer. “Um. I’m going with my boyfriend.”

And that’s when Peter’s nightmare truly started.

Lewis blinked, the smile falling away, and he stuttered out an excuse to leave. Peter turned back to his desk, own eyes wide and brain churning at a million miles per hour.

R and D was a small, tight-knit department and information spread like a plague through it. By lunchtime, the news that Peter had a boyfriend would be common knowledge. Peter cursed himself, wondering how easily he could fake an illness and get out of that damn party. He hated Tony so much, fuck him for paying for his college education and getting him this job. Why not just have an awkward Christmas party where he only had to stick around for an hour? Why have a whole-ass retreat? Peter considered, frantic, all of the alpha men in his life.


Tony’s voice boomed through the hallway and rattled Peter’s brains. He spun around in his chair, a pained smile on his face. “Mr. Stark! How can I help you?”

“Heard you got a boyfriend,” Tony said, dropping a heavy hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re settling down, my young protégé.”

“Well,” Peter said. “Uh.”

“The lodge is real romantic,” Tony continued. “And the cabins surrounding it? Absolutely picturesque, you know.”

Tony winked. Oh Jesus.

“…Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter said like a man speaking his last words. Tony ruffled his hair and left.

Peter looked down at his phone and made a choice. Hands shaking, he made the call. The phone gave three rings like a gallows’ bell.

“Yes?” Matt Murdock answered, dispensing with all pleasantries. They were beyond such things. “Is there an emergency?”

“I’m cashing in that favor you owe me,” Peter declared. Matt sucked in a breath.

“…For what?”

“Stark Industries is having a Christmas retreat,” Peter explained. “I need you to come with me.”

Matt made a noise Peter didn’t know humans could make.

“What?” he managed to choke out. “Why?”

“I need an alpha that’s a good liar,” Peter explained. “Guess who fits that bill?”

Matt groaned, and Peter knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He did that all the time, even in costume. “Café Americano. Six o clock.”

Right after work. Matt was efficient.

“I’ll meet you there,” Peter agreed, and hung up.


Snow buffeted against everything, the tall buildings forming a wind tunnel effect that made the chill worse. Beyond the plate glass windows, Café Americano looked warm and inviting, even if it was ringed with holly and tinsel. Peter pushed open the door, the bell jingling, and pulled down his scarf. He looked around and saw Matt in the corner, sitting at a small table with a latte; beside him was a dark wooden bookcase, full to bursting with old tomes. Matt’s head jerked up and he tilted it in Peter’s direction, listening intently. Peter made his way over, dropping off his bag and coat.

“Hey,” Peter said. “I’m going to go order, I’m starving.”

“Hello,” Matt said. “Go on ahead.”

“I don’t need your permission,” Peter mumbled before going in line.

He decided on a peppermint latte and a croissant, bringing them back to the corner table. Matt wrinkled his nose.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Peter said. “This is the best part of the season.”

Matt snorted. “What’s this about a retreat?”

Peter sighed, putting his face in his hands. “So Stark Industries takes its high-level employees on a Christmas retreat. It’s a lodge this year and this annoying coworker was trying to be my roommate for the trip and I…panicked.”

“I was your first thought for a fake boyfriend?” Matt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I just said there was a boyfriend,” Peter sighed. “And then Tony caught wind of it and he’s going to put me up in this cabin and it’s a whole thing now.”

Matt hummed, sipping his coffee. “That is quite the predicament. Didn’t realize you were so…desperate.”

“Don’t act like you have the power here,” Peter snapped. “You owe me for the heroin bust.”

Matt scowled, knowing that he did. “…I do. Stark is paying for the whole thing?”

“Everything except the gas to get there,” Peter said. Matt rested his elbows on the table and threaded his fingers in front of his face, deep in thought. Peter felt nervous, wondering what excuse he could bring up if Matt couldn’t come.

 “Yes, I’ll go with you,” Matt finally declared with a put-upon sigh

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, clenching his fists in celebration. “When this is over the debt will be cleared.”

“Yay,” Matt said, deadpan, and took a loud sip of his latte.

Peter stuck his tongue out, before realizing his mistake. “I’m sticking my tongue out at you.”

Matt returned the gesture. “What are your boundaries about what I can do as your fake alpha?”

Peter hadn’t really thought about that, actually. He hummed, thumbs rubbing against his mug.

“No scent marking or love bites or anything like that,” Peter declared. “We can hold hands and link arms, obviously, and chaste kisses. On the cheek. Um, I’ll ask before I do anything like that though. And no growly alpha bullshit, you don’t need to fight any battles for me.”

“I certainly don’t,” Matt said, deadpan, and lifted up his mug. “I agree with your terms. Cheers.”

They clinked their cups together. The weather outside became more and more frightful.


Peter borrowed MJ’s car, carefully navigating through the snowy streets to Matt’s apartment building. He shot off a quick text to Matt and waited for him to show up. He wondered how bad the weather was going to be Upstate, if it was this bad in the city. Matt came down from his apartment, bundled up and carrying a canvas duffle bag. Peter came out of the car to help Matt put his bag away.

“Thank you,” Matt said and navigated to the passenger side. Peter tossed the bag into the trunk and slid back into the driver’s seat. “How far away is it?”

“Couple hours,” Peter said. “We’ll be there by dinnertime.”

“Ah,” Matt said, tilting his head back. His fingers drummed up and down the length of his cane. “A luxury cabin on Stark’s dime is my idea of a vacation.”

“He’s not that bad,” Peter weakly defended. “I don’t know why you hate him so much.”

“Because he’s an asshole,” Matt muttered. “Whenever he shows up in the Kitchen it’s a huge pain in the ass.”

Peter laughed. “You hate everyone who shows up in the Kitchen. It’s your territory.”

“I don’t mind you being there,” Matt grumbled. “You…respect it.”

Sometimes Matt talked about Hell’s Kitchen like a living being and him its only caretaker. It made Peter laugh, wondering if he could ever obsess over a couple of blocks like Matt did – nowhere in Queens was quite like the Kitchen.

“Either way, settle down for the ride,” Peter said. “It’s going to be a while.”

He turned the radio on to a channel of classical music, the only one not playing mind-numbing sugary pop Christmas songs. Peter didn’t think Matt would like that much, not that Peter knew too much about Matt’s musical tastes.

“This is the most time we’ve spent together out of costume,” Peter said as he pulled on to the highway, leaving the city behind. Matt hummed.

“Of course,” Matt said. “Why would we?”

Why would we? Matt had a point. Their relationship was conducted on dark rooftops and shady alleys, faces obscured by masks and costumes. Them knowing each other’s true identities was ultimately just a fluke of Matt’s superior senses recognizing Peter’s smell and heartbeat.

“Yeah,” Peter said, keeping his eyes on the long road in front of him. “Yeah.”

The snow kept falling – not a blizzard or anything, but instead a light dusting that covered the trees that surrounded the road as they went further away from the city and into the country. Peter glanced over and saw that Matt was slumped in his seat, sunglasses falling down his nose, chest moving softly in his sleep. The tension in his face was gone, and it made him seem about a decade younger.

Peter returned his eyes to the road. Slowly, the music fizzled out and was replaced with static; Peter fiddled with the radio but was unable to find a comparable station and decided to just finish the drive in silence. In the quiet, Matt’s soft breathing was even more evident. Peter pulled off the highway and down some more remote roads, thankful that MJ had chains – these roads weren’t plowed like the main ones, and Peter tried to keep in the throughs furrowed by previous cars.

Finally, they burst through the evergreen trees to the grand lodge awaiting them.

From its arched windows spilled out warm orange light, eerie in the cold blue twilight, and beyond it were more shuddering trees and the tall mountains. Scattered around it were small, intimate cabins nestled into the snow. People climbed up the stairs to the lodge, laughter echoing in the solitude that engulfed the lodge and its surroundings. Peter parked the car.

“Matt,” Peter said, touching Matt’s shoulder. Matt jolted awake and shook his head.

“Are we there?” he asked, voice deep and growling with sleep.

“We’re at the lodge but I still have to get the keys to the cabin,” Peter explained. “Just stay here for a bit.”

“Alright,” Matt said, rubbing his eyes, sunglasses rucking up his face.

Peter took the stairs up to the lodge two at a time. At the front desk, he flashed his ID badge and the receptionist handed him a set of two keys.

“Cabin twelve,” she said. “It’s right of the lodge, a bit further towards the tree line than the others.”

Oh God, did Tony deliberately give them the remote one? Did he really think about them having a romantic weekend away from the prying eyes of his coworkers? His life was suffering.

He returned to the car and they drove down to the cabin, the furthest from the lodge. Peter parked in front of it and got out to gather their bags. Matt moved a bit slower, stretching out.

“I’m not the biggest fan of snow,” Matt said. “It…muffles things.”

Peter hadn’t really thought about Matt’s way of navigating through the world much, if at all. He offered his elbow to Matt and Matt took it, and they made their way up the steps and into the cabin.

It had one main room with a small kitchenette, a couch, a TV, and one luxurious king bed. Everything was, in fact, incredibly luxurious, but Peter was focused in on the singular bed. Slowly he dropped their bags in front of it. Matt himself was tapping his cane against the ground, cocking his head to better take in the layout of the room.

“Only one bed?” Matt asked. “Figures.”

“Uh, we can figure something out,” Peter stuttered. “I can sleep on the couch—”

“It’s fine,” Matt said, shrugging off his puffy winter coat. “How formal is this party?”

“Smart casual,” Peter said and fled into the bathroom to change. He had seen Matt naked before, but he was actively bleeding to death and Claire was explaining over the phone how to prevent him from dying. It was, perhaps, the least sexy context to see someone naked. But this was…intimate. Romantic.

Peter took a deep breath and pulled on a cable-knit green sweater. He was overtired and overhungry and overthinking things. He stepped out just in time to watch Matt button up a white shirt over his impressively cut abs, and Peter sighed.

“Ready to go?” Matt asked. Peter made a hum of ascension, dumping the casual clothes he wore for the drive by his bed. “What are your coworkers like?”

“Nosey,” Peter declared. “They’re losing their minds over what my mysterious new boyfriend is like.”

“I’ll do my best to impress them,” Matt promised as he buttoned up his shirt cuffs.

While their cabin was out-of-the-way, it wasn’t too much of a hassle to walk to the lodge where the first party of the night was being held. When the cabin door slammed shut behind them, Matt offered Peter his arm.

“Into the belly of the whale,” Matt said. “I hate these things.”

Peter hummed in agreement. “What, Nelson and Murdock doesn’t have Christmas parties?”

“Depends, does three people drinking Kahlua in the office count as a party?”

Peter burst out laughing.

The lodge was spectacular, its front entrance a cathedral made of wood and smooth river rock. The whole place had been rented out, allowing for Stark Industries to completely take over the main foyer and all its various common spaces. A concierge took Matt and Peter’s jackets and gloves before they went into the heart of the party. Matt’s broad hand on Peter’s lower back felt hot enough to brand.

Heads swiveled when Matt and Peter arrived, Peter offering a wave at his coworkers. Belatedly he realized he forgot that Matt had a presence to him – he did very little to hide his smelly pheromones, the alpha-ness rolling off of him in waves and amplified by his objectively amazing looks and rippling muscles. Peter had learned enough about the man underneath the mask to realize that it was ultimately an act, but his coworkers didn’t. All they saw was that nerdy awkward Peter Parker showed up with an alpha. Peter once again cursed his mouth’s ability to get him in trouble.

Beside him, Matt chuckled knowingly. “You told them nothing?

“…No,” Peter mumbled. “I just…ugh let’s get this over with.”

They glided into the party. Peter guided them over to a group of his fellow R&D scientists and said with the fakest force cheer ever, “Hi guys! This is my boyfriend, Matt!”

“Hello, everyone,” Matt said, voice low and smoky. He was definitely falling into his role with ease – Peter didn’t know if his skill at lying was a vigilante thing or a lawyer thing. “I’m excited to meet you all.”

“Yeah, Peter hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

Oh, that was Lewis coming up to their group. Peter realized, belatedly, they had not come up with a cover story about how they met. He prayed that Matt was good at improvisation. Matt straightened up and tilted his head towards Lewis, nostrils flaring as he took in the newcomer. He hadn’t told Matt shit about anything, Peter thought. Why was he like this?

“We haven’t been dating for long,” Peter said. “Um, this is our first big outing, right?”

Matt smiled, deadly, at Lewis. “That’s right.”

Lewis’s eyes darted down to the long white cane in Matt’s hand, and how his other one curved around Peter’s waist. He puffed himself up, and Peter cursed his life. Fucking alphas. Never once has he ever gotten into a pissing contest with another omega, yet he couldn’t walk a foot without seeing two alphas sizing one another up. Except in this case, if it came to blows Matt could snap Lewis in half if he wanted.

“You know, I always thought any alpha of Peter’s would have to best his intellect,” Lewis said. What did that even mean, Peter thought. “What do you do? I’m a senior electrical engineer, youngest on my team.”

Matt chuckled. “I suffer no delusion that I could be smarter than Peter. I’m a lawyer. Nelson and Murdock, I’m Murdock.”

“Never thought Peter would end up with a lawyer,” Lewis said with narrowed eyes. Peter tilted his head.

“I mean, we don’t know each other that well,” Peter said, effecting the wide-eyed soft-voiced omega perfectly for a moment. Matt hid his barking laughter under an impromptu coughing fit, and Peter turned that doe-eyed stare at him, voice going high-pitched. “Oh Matt, are you alright?”

Matt waved his hand at him, the you fucking asshole implicit but unsaid. “I’m alright, must’ve gotten something lodged in there.”

Peter managed to suppress his laughter better than Matt did, turning his faux-innocent act back on to Lewis, who looked pained beyond measure. Matt was chewing the inside of his cheek, presumably to stop himself from saying something even more unkind to Lewis.

“Everyone! Everyone!”

Tony’s voice boomed, made more bombastic by him hitting a knife against a champagne glass. Matt winced, hand going up to clutch his ear, and Peter rubbed his back soothingly.

“How can he be so much more obnoxious outside the whirling death suit,” Matt muttered under his breath, and Peter had to smother another laugh.

“Welcome to the most wonderful time of the year, where we all gather to make merry and get real drunk,” Ton said. “I hope you all enjoy your stay in the lodge, especially all you lovebirds out in the cabins.”

“…Has Tony thought about me having sex?” Peter mumbled. Matt made a noise that suggested that he too had thought the same, and it horrified him.

“This weekend will be full of activities,” Tony continued. He pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and squinted at it. “Tomorrow morning there will a bus out to the mountain, where skiing and snowboarding lessons will be complementary…”

At that moment, all the lights went out. The roaring fire was the only light, and Peter gripped the sleeve of Matt’s sweater, hoping Matt could navigate him through the low light. A hotel worker scuttled up to Tony and whispered into his ear.

“I guess the lodge’s generator got knocked out?” Tony said. “And they’ll be doing their best to fix everything so this weekend’s party can continue. Hope you all have someone to snuggle up with!”

Matt squeezed Peter’s hip and said, loud enough for Lewis to hear, “Lucky for us, huh?”

Peter effected a fake, dreamy laugh. “Matt, you’re so naughty!”

Even with only the firelight, Peter could see the pained look on Lewis’s face. Bringing Matt to this party was absolutely worth it.

Matt and Peter navigated their way out of the lodge and into the blistering cold. Peter shuddered, and Matt pulled him tight against his warm, strong body. Peter shivered for a whole different reason. When they finally reached the cabin, Peter remembered the pressing problem of the cabin – only one bed, and the air was freezing cold.

“Let’s start the fireplace,” Matt said. “If we share the bed, we can stay warm all night.”

Peter tried not to read innuendo into that. Matt shrugged off his coat and sweater, his button-down clinging to every muscle. Peter turned back around and focused intently on getting a roaring fire going, casting the room in warm oranges and reds. Matt was taking his shirt off, shadows dipping low into his six pack.

Matt slept only in sweatpants. This was cursed knowledge, Peter thought, as he slipped under the covers with his oversized shirt. Matt got in beside him, settling on his back; Peter was on his side, back to Matt. Despite himself, Peter relaxed from the combination of Matt’s pheromones and warmth.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Peter said. “Lewis is…annoying.”

Matt almost-growled. “I hate alphas like that. It’s like he doesn’t view you as a person.”

Peter rolled over to look at Matt. The fire was still warming the cabin, and Peter’s breath escaped out in a white mist. Matt rolled over, too, their pinkies brushing against each other.

“Sorry about the electricity,” Peter mumbled. “And the one bed.”

“It’s okay,” Matt assured. “I like being close to you.”

He then bent forward and kissed Peter softly. Peter’s eyes widened before they slipped closed, and he gripped Matt’s hand tightly. While the cabin was freezing, the blizzard battering against the wood, the air under the covers was only growing hotter. Matt shifted, wrapping his strong arms around Peter’s powerful back and pulling him close. Peter gasped, own hands gripping at Matt’s bicep and shoulder. The kiss became intense, Matt rolling on top him and pinning Peter down into the plush mattress. Peter’s nails dug into Matt’s shoulders, legs spreading to better accommodate Matt’s bulk between them.

“Matt,” Peter panted as they parted, the air sweltering between them. Matt clutched at the sheets. His face burned with hunger.

“You’re gorgeous,” Matt panted. “Fucking irresistible.”

Peter blushed. “Really?”

Matt groaned. He rucked up Peter’s T-shirt, running his hands up Peter’s soft skin and wiry muscle. They pressed close together, and Peter squirmed, feeling Matt’s growing hardness through the layers of clothes. Matt smelled like spice and musk, his pheromones making Peter drunk. Matt’s thumbs rubbed circles around Peter’s nipples, and he pressed his face into Peter’s neck, nosing against his scent gland and inhaling deeply. The gland wasn’t as sensitive as it was during a heat, but it still made Peter writhe.

Matt ducked his head down and licked Peter’s nipple before sucking on it. Peter arched up into his lips, tossing his head back with a cry. Matt reached down and grabbed Peter’s pants, and together they worked to get both Peter’s pants and boxers off and tossed to the ground. Peter spread his legs even wider, feeling himself grow slicker and slicker. Matt’s calloused, broad fingers rubbed against Peter’s entrance, making Peter moan in anticipation. Peter’s own hand slipped down across Matt’s muscular body, dipping into Matt’s sweatpants and wrapping around Matt’s cock. Even half-hard, it was thick and huge in his hands, and Peter quivered at the thought of it inside him.

Matt pressed a finger inside Peter and they both moaned. “You’re so tight, I can’t wait to get inside you.”

“Matt…” Peter panted, pushing Matt’s sweatpants and briefs down to better stroke his hardening cock. Matt pushed in a second finger, crooking it up to massage Peter’s prostate, making Peter arch and writhe.

Ah,” Peter gasped, unable to keep his grip on Matt. “God, Matt, I’m ready for you.”

“Mhm,” Matt murmured and ducked his head down to lick across Peter’s hole. Peter groaned, fingers clenching in Matt’s hair; Matt pressed a third one in, slick soaking through the sheets. His tongue and fingers were driving Peter absolutely crazy, kicking his heels up to Matt’s shoulders as Matt pressed his face deeper and deeper between Peter’s legs.

“Please, Matt,” Peter begged, a red flush spilling down his heaving chest. “I need you.”

Outside, a blizzard banged against the walls of the cabin, screeching and crying. Inside, the cabin was sweltering hot, the shadows of the fire creating deep pools of shadow in Matt’s shifting muscles as he stripped off his pants. His cock curved up his shredded stomach, twitching, and Peter pulled his knees up to his ears in anticipation. Matt leaned down, strong hands gripping Peter’s thighs.

“Flexible,” Matt murmured. “Gorgeous.”

“Matt,” Peter said with a pout. “Fuck me.”

Matt grinned, and pressed his cock against Peter, slowly sinking inside.

His cock filled Peter perfectly, stretching him out into a delicious ache. Peter tossed his head back, face flushed and red mouth panting as Matt sunk into him. Shivers and trembles wracked his body, gripping the sheets tightly in either hand. Matt’s hips pressed against Peter’s ass and rested there for a moment, just breathing together and adjusting to the feel of the other. Matt bent down and pressed his lips to Peter’s neck, suckling on Peter’s scent gland. Peter wrapped his arms around Matt’s strong shoulders, nails sinking into the skin.

“Matt,” Peter whispered, hoarse. “Move.”

Matt’s fingers sunk into the skin of Peter’s thighs, and he started thrusting his hips. Peter wailed, moving back against him frantically, desperately. Matt did his best to keep Peter still, but Peter’s enhanced strength made that extremely difficult. Matt readjusted himself, placing Peter’s legs over his shoulders so he could better press Peter down into the plush mattress.

Peter cried out, Matt moving inside him slow and deep, alighting every nerve he had. He felt like the beginning of his heat, every inch of him desiring attention and pleasure, wanting hands and tongue and fingers and cock to badly it made him feel crazy. Matt was warm and solid above him, filling up Peter until he felt like he was about to burst. With every thrust in, Peter could feel Matt’s swelling knot, and the thought of it inside him made him even slicker.

“You like this, hm?” Matt murmured into his ear. “Like being split open and fucked until you’re hoarse?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter agreed. “Oh God, Matt…

Matt pulled out to flip Peter over. Peter pressed his face into the bed and put his hips into the air, clutching at the sheets. Matt settled against Peter’s back, pinching Peter’s nipples as he pushed back inside him. Peter panted, knowing why Matt switched positions – this was the best one for knotting.

“Hope you didn’t have any other plans this weekend,” Matt mumbled, almost to himself. “Because I’m not letting you out of this bed.”

Matt’s cock was stimulating Peter’s prostate, rubbing against it with every thrust, and Peter’s thighs were shaking and completely drenched. Matt straightened up, pressing his hand on Peter’s tailbone and forcing him into an even more extreme bend. Peter wailed, nearly ripping the sheets, knuckles white. He was being driven right out of his mind, teetering on the precipice of complete oblivion.

Matt growled deep in his chest, rumbling Peter’s whole body. Matt’s hand slid from Peter’s back into his hair and pulled it, forcing him into an extreme bend as Matt’s thrusts grew almost-frenzied, wild and powerful. Peter went limp, letting himself be moved in accordance to Matt’s desire. Matt’s other hand clamped down on Peter’s hip, leaving bruises like a brand on Peter’s skin. Tears trickled down from the corners of Peter’s eyes, overwhelmed and gasping from the feeling of Matt moving inside him.

Matt howled, curling around Peter and pressing his face into Peter’s scent gland. He did not bite – that urge was reserved for the madness of rut – but licked and sucked, stimulating further pheromone production. Peter’s knees spread out further, eyes going wide and mouth opening in a silent scream as Matt’s knot pressed in. It stretched him even further, Peter’s mouth biting down on the sheets just to have something to ground him as he clenched down on Matt’s knot. Matt was making little noises, somewhere between a purr and a growl, soothing to Peter’s frazzled nerves.

Knot seated, Matt rolled them on to their sides, arms wrapped tightly around Peter. Peter could feel Matt’s orgasm pulsing through him, the feeling only growing in intensity when Matt started stroking his cock.

He tossed his head back, nuzzling insistently against Matt’s cheek as his orgasm spread through him like a crashing wave. Peter cried out, eyes rolling back as he shuddered and writhed against Matt, the spasms stretched out by the knot inside him. Matt kept him as close as possible, powerful shoulders heaving as he did.

Finally, Peter calmed down with an exhale and Matt pulled away to nose at his hair. Peter giggled, settling in for the night.

“We’re so gross,” Peter said. “I’m all sweaty.”

“No,” Matt huffed, going all alpha for a moment. “You smell like me.”

Outside, the blizzard raged with no sign of stopping. Inside, Peter’s laugh filled the cabin like bells.