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worth your weight in gold

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it takes roy exactly three seconds to recognize the smell, and then two more for the rest of his stupid alpha brain to catch up with complex things like verbal communication and common decency, and by that point, he’s been staring at ed for an uncomfortably long number of seconds from just inside their bedroom door.

when roy’s consciousness finally returns to his mortal coil, ed is giving him a look. ed, who is nestled into a pile of blankets and pillows he’s been building for a couple of months now — a den of soft things he’d been collecting, when he thought no one was looking, familiar scents and plush fabrics to surround himself with when no one else was around. ed, who is sprawled across their bed in one of roy’s old t-shirts, with a swell to his stomach as it peeks out from beneath the t-shirt, a halfmoon of his tummy between the shirt’s hem and the elastic of his boxer-briefs.

mine, some primitive, animal part of him says, and he feels himself taking a step closer to the bed without meaning to, heart thundering off-beat in his chest. i did that.

roy still gets a chill up his spine thinking about it. his omega, glowing and sweet-smelling, marked the way he’s always dreamt of marking someone. he thinks of the weekend of ed’s heat — they’d spent three or four rounds tied together, roy letting ed rock back and forth in these tiny-but-infinite thrusts against his knot until he’d come all over himself a couple of times and made a delightful mess all over his stomach and their bed. he was so in love with ed he’d been dizzy with it all weekend.

ed had been glowing ever since. he’d always been golden, but it was almost overbearing, now, the way sunlight glinted off of him like he was something precious.

edward is certainly glowing now, sprawled on their bed in the stolen t-shirt and nothing else. his hair is down, loose around his shoulders and spilling over against the shell of his collarbone, casting shadows against his adams apple and his throat. his cheeks are a dusty pink, as if he’s been working out. he’s mostly legs, from this angle, and roy finds himself mesmerized by the expanse of ed’s warm skin, milky pale thigh giving way to toned calf, little peach fuzz blond hair that’s barely visible from far away. the shape of his stomach is mesmerizing even now, with clothes still on.

ed is practically radiating heat and sweet-smelling, heady-ripe omega pheromones. ed is approximately seven months along. ed is absolutely soaking if roy’s nose is any indication.

roy remembers this part, dimly, from a horrifically awkward lecture he’d been forced to endure in school: remembers that some omegas present with false heats during their pregnancies, that the phenomenon is most common during their first one, that the odds of a false heat go up as the pregnancy progresses. there was nothing that needed to be done, really — no harm would come to the omega, and doctor’s advise on the subject was simply to make the omega as comfortable as possible, roy’s old literature professor had said with a wink.

“hi,” ed says, his voice caramel thick, breaking roy from his stupor. his gaze is heavy when it meets roy’s, the tension like a hum in the air. “you need something?”

roy looks, slowly, pointedly, down at the shape of ed’s cock, hard and curled up towards the swell of his stomach, leaking and messy at the tip. “shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

“you don’t have to ask,” ed says, smirking. “just show me.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and roy is gone as soon as he feels that spark in his chest. a petty challenge from another alpha he can keep under wraps, most days, because he’s not an animal, but prodding like that from an omega — from his omega — demands an answer, and roy feels himself growl from somewhere deep in his chest as he thinks about how he’ll respond.

it doesn’t take him long to decide.

he’s up in ed’s space almost immediately, nudging his legs apart, grabbing for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off over his head. roy takes in the expanse of ed’s skin, his thigh to the crux of his hip to ed’s messy cock, hard between his legs and smeared in a mix of ed’s precum and slick. ed’s so wet he’s got slick dripping onto the bed, an incriminating wet spot forming beneath him as his empty body begs for what it needs.

ed smells like him — his skin, his hair, his slick spilling everywhere — it all smells like him, like his scent and ed’s are doing some kind of obscene dance together and they’ve ended up so tangled up they’re not entirely sure whose limbs are whose anymore. it’s far more intoxicating than roy could have imagined, being able to smell his mate, smell that his mate is marked as his as plain as if ed wore a wedding ring.

roy meets ed’s eyes, just for a second, gives a nod that’s practically dripping with intent before he’s pushing ed’s legs open wider and pulling himself forward to settle between them. “do you taste like me, too?” he wonders aloud, so close his breath ghosts against the back of ed’s thigh.

“only one way to find out,” ed replies, impatient, and roy doesn’t need any more prompting than that before he closes the gap between their bodies and starts to lap at the mess ed’s made, takes his time licking into him as ed relaxes against him.

ed does taste different, a soft sweetness mixed with this almost oakey note that reminds roy of his own scent. it’s subtle, but that just makes it all the more hypnotic; once he’s tasted it, he feels like a man possessed, chasing after ed’s scent hoping he might get another taste of himself therein.

ed whimpers softly, squirms against the sheets and grapples for purchase among the material of his nest as roy settles in the space between ed’s thighs. he teases at first, tiny flicks of his tongue that makes ed swear and call him a bastard, and ed is reaching for him, tangling a hand in his hair, urging him closer as he presses deeper.

“motherfucker,” ed whines, and bucks his hips. “fucking fuck, roy-”

“do you know any other words?” roy hums, pulls back just enough to take a ragged breath in. his face is a mess, glistening wet covered in ed’s slick and his mouth swollen and pink, and it feels sloppy, used.

ed groans, tugs on roy‘s hair as if in protest, twines his fingers in a few strands of roy’s hair so he has something to hold onto. “i’d like to see you do better while you’re getting tongue fucked like that,” ed argues.

“of course you would,” roy responds, his voice warm around a chuckle. “another time, okay?”

ed is a sight to be seen like this, all limbs and soft skin and a sunset color palette of pinks and golds. a crescent moon of his stomach is peeking out from under the hem of roy’s shirt, and roy can’t help but find his eyes gravitating back to that spot again and again, a heavy pull like a magnet.

roy had never expected to have a relationship like the one he had with ed — he didn’t think he deserved one, and he still found it humbling that someone as giving as edward saw something worth saving in roy’s trainwreck of a life — and it was still difficult to believe he had an omega who liked him enough to come home to him on a somewhat regular basis. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone into rut with anyone but ed, and passing ed’s heats tangled up together was one of the highlights of his life thus far.

he inhales softly and gets back to work, plants an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of ed’s thigh. “you smell incredible,” he growls against the skin there.

“it’s all the hormones,” ed says, his voice wobbly. roy teases that spot on ed’s leg, kissing and sucking too lightly to leave a mark. “i’m very — fuck — sensitive right now.”

“i’m well aware,” roy hums, trails a finger along the seam of ed’s leg until he reaches the crux of his hip and keeps his hand there, warm against ed’s skin. “what do your hormones want?”

“you, unfortunately,” ed says, and rolls his hips, seeking friction and finding only roy’s grip, impossibly far from his straining cock. “you want me to draw you a map?”

“not necessary,” roy replies, so close his breath gives ed goosebumps. “i know exactly where i’d like to be.”

“come on then,” ed urges, squirming in his grip. “roy, alpha, please-”

“patience,” roy hums. he looks up at ed, and the eye contact jolts like electricity when their eyes meet, a spark that sends a shiver down through roy’s body. he lets his eyes flutter shut as he takes the head of ed’s cock in his mouth.

ed makes a startled noise, a shout mixed with a throaty moan, and he grabs instinctively for purchase, twines his hand in roy’s hair and tugs. roy sighs and relaxes his throat, takes ed’s cock deeper as he starts to suckle and make use of his tongue, and ed groans deep in his chest as roy drags his tongue along the underside of ed’s cock. “fuck, alpha, you can’t-”

roy pulls off enough to murmur, “i can and i will,” with his hands still on ed’s hips, and he doesn’t let ed comment any further before he’s swallowing him down again, deeper this time, with a sadistic enthusiasm like he wants nothing more than to take ed apart.

ed bucks his hips a bit by accident, and roy takes it without much trouble, hums as if to encourage ed to keep going. ed’s hand screws tighter in his hair, and he cants his hips harder this time and earns a choked noise from roy. “motherfucker, roy, i can’t-”

roy pulls off with a wet sound, just in time to catch ed’s shiver. his cock is hard against his stomach, wet from roy’s mouth, and he’s leaking slick everywhere, ruining the sheets in such a delightfully sinful way roy can’t even be mad.

“you can’t what?”

“i need you,” ed says, which isn’t an answer.

“i’m right here,” roy counters.

“you know what i mean.”

“i’d love for you to say it.” he’ll give his omega what he needs, just as soon as he asks for it.

ed glares at him for a second, his eyes molten metal, and roy gets lost in them immediately, like they’re something hypnotic. he loves every defiant bone in ed’s body, loves this omega who’s anything but submissive even in the face of waves of alpha pheromones, loves this game of cat and mouse that’s become something so much bigger.

it’s only when ed clears his throat that the spell breaks, and his voice is still velvet soft when he forces himself to speak. he’s blushing a deep pink at the apples of his cheeks, and he smells almost- nervous.

“i need your cock, alpha,” he says, his voice wobbling just slightly. “the rest of you i could take or leave, honestly.”

despite himself, roy laughs, warm and deep in his chest. “it’s truly an honor to be nominated,” he teases, and plants a kiss on the inside of ed’s knee. he scoots back to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt, smeared with ed’s slick around the collar, and toss it onto the floor. “if you want something, you’ll have to show me.”

he traces his hands along ed’s thighs, pushes his legs apart and open so his cock is on display, resting against the swell of his stomach, curling to one side and snaking out of a nest of golden hair. the mess he’s made of the nest is obvious like this too, his hole pink and shiny with slick as it drips down his perineum onto the sheets beneath him.

roy watches, rapt, feels his mouth go dry at the fresh wave of omega pheromones bombarding his senses. ed’s smell is as delicious as it is complicated, layers of roy’s own scent entwined with ed’s and several things he’d never smelled before ed had gotten pregnant, like fresh-cut grass and soft, wet soil; rich and earthy like cocoa with hints of citrus rind freshness; and something sweeter, riper, almost like cherries.

he trails a finger through the mess, wet with ed’s own fluids as he traces along the skin of ed’s taint, up to his balls and then back down to prod at his entrance. “can you please-”

“you want this?” roy hums, and slides his finger in without any more pretense than that. ed is so relaxed already, his body takes it easily, and he makes a tiny, needy gasp that goes straight to roy’s cock when roy curls his finger and gives a few quick strokes.

“i want your knot, roy,” ed snaps, and it’s like a pot boiling over: suddenly, ed is past caring, and an ed who was past caring knew no boundaries, knew nothing of mortal concepts such as embarrassment or shame. “i want you splitting me the fuck in half because you’re so hard for me, i want you to tie me and bite me so hard i black out from it, i want you filling me up with your come like you’re knocking me up again-”

“that’s what i’m talking about,” roy hums, hooks his finger for a final time before he pulls out. “love your filthy mouth begging me for my knot.”

ed is an angel, squirming against the sheets with his hair loose and glinting in the sunlight, hard against his swollen belly and smearing mess everywhere, on display under the weight of roy’s gaze. “fuck, please- please can we-”

“up for me, on all fours,” roy says, his voice hard, and ed scrambles, gets his knees under himself and holds himself up with slightly shaky arms as he settles.

“lovely like this,” he continues, and sweeps ed’s hair over his shoulder so his scent gland is exposed. the smell is nearly dizzying, thick in the air with every breath he takes, and it takes most of roy’s self control not to bite him then and there, drowning in the scent of a ripe omega begging for his cock. ed’s shoulder is a mess of scissoring scar tissue, scars from the automail and scars from the years of fighting and layers of crescent moon bite marks roy’s left over the years. it’s always seemed fitting to him that ed’s scent gland was on the same side where his automail had been, that roy showed his love by marking him in a particularly self-conscious spot.

“lovelier when you’re fucking me senseless,” ed whines, and rolls his hips a little, presses back against roy’s cock as if roy could have forgotten.

“lovely all the time,” roy argues, a hand anchoring on ed’s hip, “but obscenely pretty, certainly, when you’re gagging for my knot-”

“fuck, roy, please-” roy’s other hand trails down the line of ed’s neck onto his shoulder, two fingers ghosting along the warm flesh until he finds the spot he’s looking for. “need you so fuckin’ bad-”

ed’s voice cracks on the word ‘bad’ as roy’s fingers dig into his scent gland. it’s just a second of pressure against the overly-sensitive spot, but it’s enough to wring a truly delightful moan out of the back of ed’s throat, and roy stares as he watches ed’s entrance convulse, muscles clenching tight for a second before he’s able to relax. an obscene gush of slick leaks out of his hole, wet and sticky warm as it dribbles against his skin.

“since you’ve asked so nicely,” roy murmurs, trying to blink his vision clear as he fumbles his way out of his pants. he’s made something of a mess of his boxers too, a wet spot he might be embarrassed about were the circumstances different, and he can already feel the swelling at the base of his cock that will become his knot as he fists himself a few times, swipes a hand through the mess and uses it to slick himself up.

ed groans when the head of roy’s cock brushes against his entrance, and he presses his hips back as best he can, lets roy line himself up and wrap his hand around the base of his cock as he presses in.

“shit,” ed whines, and if roy didn’t know ed better, he’d think it was a bad thing. “so fucking good, roy, alpha-”

it’s a head rush, fucking into the divine heat that is ed’s body in the midst of a heat. he’s so hot roy’s nearly burning from it, and that’s just with the head of his cock breeching the muscle; roy can only imagine how dizzying ed will be when he’s pounding into him, dragging his knot against ed’s hole with every thrust.

roy tries to savor it, tries to take it slow, but ed is so slick and open, there’s hardly any friction, and he bottoms out quicker than he means to. “shit,” he hisses, “sorry-”

“‘the hell are you sorry for?” ed asks, breathless. “‘s about fuckin’ time.”

roy rolls his hips, just once, painstakingly slowly so that ed is really able to feel everything as he thrusts back in. he grazes a spot that makes ed whimper and bite his lip, and that kind of behavior certainly won’t do.

“let me hear you, whore,” roy chides, and slams his hips harder this time, hard enough that ed cries out. “who do you belong to?”

ed makes a soft sound in the back of his throat. “you, alpha.”

“that’s right,” he says, punctuating the affirmation with another brutal thrust. “who does this hole belong to?”

ed is whining now, trembling ever so slightly in the line of his shoulders as roy continues to fuck into him. “you, alpha.”

roy’s free hand moves to the swell of ed’s stomach, cups the bump in his hand and holds it there against the warmth of ed’s skin. “who breeds you?” roy presses, and works his hips again. “who marks you?”

“you, alpha.”

“fucking right,” roy growls, voice deep in his chest. “show me how well you take my cock, sweetheart.”

they settle into something of a rhythm after that. the room is quiet except for the slick sounds of their hips slamming together and their overlapping breathing, and the air is warm and still, almost choking, like he can never get quite enough oxygen on any given inhale. the rhythm is bruising, their hips crashing together like waves against the shoreline, and roy can feel his knot slowly growing, can feel the bulge catching against ed’s entrance with each thrust until it gets too big to be comfortable. he keeps his hand anchored on ed’s stomach, enjoying the constant reminder it provides.

ed is divine like this, as holy as he’s ever been, naked and glowing golden light and smelling like roy all over; he’s a pornographic messiah, with a rat’s nest of blond hair in place of his halo. he’s certainly saved roy a time or two.

ed lets out a wordless cry when roy slams into him at precisely the right angle, a wail of the caliber that wakes neighbors, but then he’s dissolving into a barrage of “shitshit don’t fucking stop,” that sends a shiver up his spine.

roy growls without making a conscious effort to do so. “you like that?” he purrs.

“fuck yes,” ed sobs. “alpha, need your knot, need you tied to me, need you filling me up-”

roy hums softly. “i’ve got you,” he promises. “i’ll get you there, okay? just need you to trust me.”

ed makes a helpless noise, but he follows it with an “okay,” that nearly breaks roy, breathless and cracked in the middle but still so beautifully trusting.

roy shifts his weight so that he’s pressing against ed’s back, the skin on skin contact warm and sparking, and then he’s closing the gap between ed’s shoulder and his mouth. at first, he plants chaste kisses against the plane of ed’s shoulder blade, ghosts his teeth along the muscles there and teases what it might feel like when he bites down for real, but this close to his scent gland, ed’s scent is as thick as smoke in the air, and it isn’t long before roy’s feels himself being drawn towards that spot, pulled to it like it’s magnetic.

“fuck,” ed swears when roy starts to suckle at the tender flesh.

roy doesn’t say anything, nips at ed’s scent gland with just a hint of teeth as he slams his hips against ed’s and teases his knot against ed’s entrance. he’s full hard now, ready to tie together, and his knot is going to be a bit of a stretch even now, with ed sopping wet and relaxed for him.

“please,” ed pleads, his voice shaky. “need your fucking knot, roy-”

“shh,” roy says, keeps his voice low. “just stay nice and relaxed for me. take some deep breaths.”

ed does as he’s been instructed, and roy presses in at the same moment ed lets out his first heavy exhale. ed moans when he feels the beginning of the stretch — chokes back a “holy fuck” that dies in his throat — but he does his best to relax around roy’s knot, unclenching his muscles one by one as if throwing tumblers in a lock.

“you’re doing so well for me,” roy murmurs. “taking me so well, edward.”

“roy, i can’t-”

“almost there, sweetheart.”

“fuck, you’re so big-”

the image of ed’s hole swallowing up his knot is both truly filthy and one of the hottest things roy’s had the privilege to witness in his life thus far. it’s too good to be true, every time, when the widest part of his knot breeches ed’s entrance and he slides home, so tight roy sees fireworks behind the backs of his eyes. it’s unreal, the head rush of keeping ed that full of his cock as they grind frantically against one another in search of friction.

“holy fuck,” ed swears, and he doesn’t get any further before roy is latching onto his scent spot, his mouth warm and wet as he starts to suckle.

roy is high on ed’s scent, high on the endorphins of breeding this young, gorgeous, insatiable omega who somehow crawls into roy’s bed most nights, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer after this much build up. he’s been knee-deep in omega pheromones all night now, after all; it’s a miracle he’s still coherent at all.

he sucks hard on ed’s scent gland, hard enough he hopes it bruises, then rolls his hips once, twice before his vision starts to go white around the edges. he has just enough time to act, as the sparks close in on his field of vision, just enough time to wrap his hand around ed’s neglected erection and pump once, twice, before he’s biting down hard on the meat of ed’s shoulder, sucking hard against his scent gland even as he starts to taste blood from the bite.
ed shakes apart against him, convulses hard around roy’s knot and writhes against roy’s grip and comes all over roy’s hand and the sheets. roy follows suit immediately, rides the waves of ed’s convulsions as he comes for what feels like an eternity, pumping ed full of his seed with his teeth still latched onto ed’s shoulder.

ed winces when roy releases the bite, and without thinking, roy laps at the wound to try to help the cuts heal; it’s instinctive, or at least it always has been for roy, and ed seemed to find it comforting to have his mate tend to the bite after a particularly brutal fucking.

he’s still shaking against roy’s body, and roy wants to hold him, wants to soothe him and shush him until they’re able to untie and roy can care for him properly. for now, the best he can offer is a careful maneuver of their positions, so they’re laying on their sides this time, mostly out of the way of the worst of the mess.

roy presses a soft kiss to ed’s shoulder, careful to avoid the tender spots. “that was heavenly.”

ed hums. “you’re not so bad yourself,” he offers after a moment. he nestles into the ring of roy’s arms, taking full advantage of his position as the little spoon. his hair is an absolute disaster now, and he’ll probably wind up with a few bruises from the day’s activities, and roy is terribly, hopelessly in love with him.

“kind of you,” roy responds, traces his hand along ed’s stomach. “how’re you feeling?”

“pretty good,” ed offers, his voice soft around the edges, all rounded consonants. “fucked out, ready for a nap and a round two in a couple of hours.”

roy nods. “that… sounds like you’re in heat,” he replies after a moment.

“no shit.”

“i just meant-”

“i know what you meant, dumbass,” ed gripes. “jesus fuck, just- shut up and hold me for a while, okay? i’m all,” — he waves a hand in the air, as if he’s going to magically conjure up the word he’s looking for — “hormonal, or whatever.”

“i for one am always happy to be of service,” roy replies, “whether by holding you or holding you down and fucking you through your false heat.”

he can’t see it, but he doesn’t need to visual to be certain ed is rolling his eyes at that. “you’re truly an upstanding citizen, roy. doing your civic duty by fucking like rabbits.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” roy says sincerely.