Chapter Text
He had an Omega. Holy shit.
Ever since he was a kid, Jackson had been dreaming of the day he’d find his mate. To be fair, when he was a kid, he didn’t exactly imagine the process would start with him getting sent a sexy MMS video of a drugged Omega while he was trying to study history. Even when he was rushing home to join his packmates in ‘helping’ the newfound Omega through his presentation heat, he wasn’t necessarily sure he was going to bite and claim the stranger. Sure, he had been considering getting a mate now that he was pack leader and in his senior year—he felt ready to move on to the next stage of his life, to start taking on new responsibilities and really move into adulthood as an Alpha—but biting some random kid who had been drugged with inducers by a bunch of asshole frat bros still wasn’t necessarily the plan.
But then he had walked down the steps and into the basement and smelled it: the sugary smell of ice cream on a warm day, vanilla and freshness and sweet cream. It reminded Jacks of some of his happiest memories of childhood, brief slivers of time before his parents’ divorce. It was the smell of softness, of joy.
The sensory effect was only mildly muddled by the combating scents of the three other Alphas in the basement, one of whom was still eagerly fucking the whining Omega.
“You guys are assholes,” Jackson snapped at them, half-distractedly. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sweet-smelling Omega, his face flushed pink and his eyes glazed from his heat. He looked familiar, Jacks realized, but he wasn’t quite sure from where exactly.
“You’re welcome,” Cliff laughed as he fucked harder into the anonymous Omega, his thrusts becoming less restrained as he neared climax. “I’ll be finished in a second."
The Omega made a small, frightened sound again, which slightly turned Jackson’s stomach. Of course, he was still painfully aroused—how could an Alpha not be with an Omega’s heat pheromones swirling around and such a pretty mouth making those cries—but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to how normal everyone seemed to think it was to fuck an Omega in their presentation heat without even knowing them. Nick had laughed at him a bit the first time Jackson had expressed such hesitation at an Omega presentation heat, a full two years ago. “Don’t worry—they need it,” Nick had promised him. “Their body is literally on fire wanting that Alpha cum and a good knot. You’re not doing anyone any favors by wanting to wine and dine them first. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even be able to tell you their favorite movie or even their name during a heat. Just go with it, dude—it’ll all work itself out.”
As Cliff finished in the Omega’s newly opened cunt, Kyle began to pet the Omega’s face and whisper soothingly words to him. As Jacks stepped closer, the sweet ice-cream smell became thicker and he found himself nearly groaning in response.
The scent was absolutely perfect.
By this point in his life, he’d smelled a few Omegas in heat and during presentation, and none of them made him so thoroughly want to bite down. To draw the Omega to him. To claim. He felt his erection hardening at the same time his jaw clenched almost painfully and his mouth began to fill with a slightly bitter-tasting salvia. Even before he consciously had chosen to, his body was getting ready for him to make a claiming bite.
“Hey there,” he choaked out, trying to keep his voice non-threatening and calm at the same time his body throbbed and his head swam in the pheromone-saturated air. “These guys been taking good care of you?”
“No one’s knotted him, but we’ve been keeping him occupied,” Cliff answered with a chuckle. The Omega stayed silent except for a small whimper as Cliff pulled the rest of the way out of him. The kid’s hazel eyes were glazed over with a mix of heat, confusion, and continued arousal.
Jackson frowned. Now that he was closer, the familiarity of the Omega’s face crystalized into recognition. He carefully touched the Omega’s chin and tilted his face up slightly for closer inspection. Holy shit. The last time he’d seen this kid, those eyes had been sharp and focused, his answers to the professor’s questions confident, almost bordering on haughty. “I recognize this kid,” Jacks murmured. “He’s in my stats class. Or was, I guess. He broke the fucking curve on our first test.”
There was a flippant jeer from Kyle and friendly laughter from the pack. Jackson laughed too, but his brain clouded a bit as he breathed in more heat and sweet cream.
Just minutes later, Jackson was buried knot-deep in the small Omega with his teeth sunk fully into the curve of the kid’s neck.
Fuck, it finally happened. Jackson had an Omega. A bond. A mate.
The first few days, Jacks was on cloud nine. He felt confident in taking charge and being a good, proper Alpha mate. He took the kid—Tanner MacIntyre, he learned his name was—to the registrar’s office and to the doctor, he informed his family of the mating, and he followed all the protocols he had read about for bonding with a new Omega. He kept his new Omega close, fed him by hand, made sure to hold him and show him that he was wanted and desired. The new Omega opened to him so naturally, and when he cried and orgasmed as Jackson fucked him, his sweet-cream scent was the most amazing thing Jackson had ever smelled. For the first days, it was everything Jackson had hoped for.
And then… it wasn’t.
He wasn’t quite sure what he had done wrong. Surely it must have been something though because the Omega—Tanner, he reminded himself—started smelling sour, like newly spoiling milk. It wasn’t consistent. Sometimes he would smell fresh as cream, other times sweet and sugary with arousal or satisfaction, but that sour smell was occuring more and more frequently each day. It would happen without warning, sometimes during dinner when the pack was all at the table together, sometimes as Jacks was cuddling the Omega alone in bed after sex, sometimes in the middle of the night when nothing seemed to have happened at all. Nothing in particular seemed to trigger it. It was sudden, it was sharp, and Jackson had absolutely no idea what it meant.
“Have you tried asking him?” Cliff replied flatly after Jacks quietly shared his concern one morning. “Sour scents usually mean an Omega is distressed. Just ask him what’s distressing him. It’s not that hard.”
Jacks didn’t want to make the Omega—Tanner—self-conscious about his scent, so he tried a slightly less direct approach. “How are you doing today, sweetheart?” he’d smile encouragingly and ask.
“Fine,” the Omega would answer softly, his eyes demure and lowered. There was no admittance of distress. No griefs or complaints. “My day was okay. I’m, um, happy to see you now though, Alpha.”
Jackson would then remind the Omega that he didn’t need to call him “Alpha”—that was far too traditional for Jacks, felt too much like mastery and a title of ownership—and just his name was fine.
This went on for almost a month.
After a few weeks, Jackson managed to encourage Tanner to leave the bedroom during the day and to spend more time in the den with the other Alphas of the pack. That did begin to lessen the sour smell somewhat, to Jackson’s relief. Maybe it was just a need for socialization, he thought. His research books all said that Omegas needed socialization. Creating space for his Omega to visit with the other Alphas was highly encouraged, and Jacks continued to follow other common recommendations as well: he gave his Omega praise, knotted him frequently, and continued to touch him and hold him as much as possible.
Soon, though, Jackson noted a pattern. Tanner was becoming more comfortable around the other Alphas and his scent was sweet and clear now most of the time during pack dinners or in the group den—but he still soured constantly when he was alone with Jacks. It would happen unexpectedly in the quietest of moments, sometimes when Tanner was wrapped in Jackson’s embrace, on his lap, or even still locked on his knot. The latter was the most horrifying for Jacks, made him nearly want to scream and cry in frustration. Was he hurting his Omega? Was the kid unhappy to be his mate? He tried to be more direct and ask, “Is anything bothering you, sweetheart?”
Tanner just shook his head. “No, everything is fine, Jacks.” Then he’d smile softly, and the sour smell would get stronger.
“I think I’m losing my goddamn mind,” Jackson complained to Kyle one day. “Do you notice it when he’s around you? It’s like when milk is starting to go off, but like emanating directly from his throat.”
Kyle shrugged. “I mean, I think get some of what you’re talking about, but not very much. He’s a bit skittish sometimes, but I think he’s getting more comfortable. You probably just need to give him time.”
So Jackson waited. He tried to be sweet and understanding. He tried to be patient and give Tanner space. He tried giving him compliments and encouragement.
“You’re being an idiot,” Cliff muttered one day. “You know you can just stop that nerve reaction through proper training. I can give you some literature on it.”
“I don’t want to train him like a dog,” Jackson had snapped. “He’s supposed to be my mate, not my pet. I just need to give him some time and space to finish getting settled. Then we’ll be fine.” Jacks hesitated a moment before asking, “We will be fine, right?” Cliff just rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation.
That night, Jackson had tried to whisper consoling promises to Tanner, to let him know how much he wanted to comfort him and protect him. Tanner had just muttered something half-asleep about Jackson being a liar and then had fallen into his dreams smelling like sharp acid and spoiling cheese.
The final breaking point for Jackson was surprisingly not the sour smell at all though—it was actually Tanner’s laugh.
Jacks hadn’t heard Tanner laugh before, he realized. It was a beautiful sound, Jackson thought, all breathy gasps and high-pitched tones. But Tanner wasn’t laughing with Jackson. He had never laughed with Jackson. Instead, he was in the kitchen, joking and grinning and laughing with the other Alphas of the pack. On reflection, Jacks was pretty sure he was never meant to see this moment—this easy, casual interaction. Tanner was always so guarded around him, so demure. It was in that moment that Jackson belatedly realized that even Tanner’s daily smiles when they were alone together hadn’t been full, genuine smiles; they’d been soft, pale imitations compared to the joy on Tanner’s face when he thought his Alpha mate was nowhere around.
With crystal clarity, Jackson realized the truth: he didn’t actually have an Omega at all.
Sure, he’d done the act of biting and claiming an Omega, and the paperwork that had been registered, notarized, and filed said that they were bonded mates. But Jackson didn’t really feel bonded. And clearly his so-called mate didn’t feel so either if he could laugh like that with the other Alphas and then be so closed off and smell so sour when they were alone.
Jackson scowled and found himself storming to his—their—bedroom to sulk. Fuck, this wasn’t Tanner’s fault, he reminded himself. Jackson was the Alpha. All the books, not to mention Nick and Cliff, were always telling him that a fault in the bond was almost always caused by a mistake on the part of the Alpha.
Maybe Cliff had been right—maybe Jackson should have tried a more traditional route with training. The thought made his gut churn. He really didn’t want to control his Omega like an animal or a slave. But… maybe if he had then his mate wouldn’t have sought comfort elsewhere. Maybe Jacks could have made him happy all on his own, made him smile and smell like ice cream again.
As Jackson sat on the bed, his head buried in his hands in frustration, there was a tentative knock at the bedroom door. As Jacks looked up, Tanner tentatively stuck his head in the room. His eyes were wide and glassy, and Jackson immediately felt a crushing wave of guilt. Oh shit, he had frightened his Omega. He had basically thrown a temper tantrum and unintentionally given negative reinforcement for Tanner’s happiness and laughter. Jesus, he was a fucking idiot jerk of an Alpha.
“Did I do something to make you mad?” Tanner asked softly.
Fuck. Jackson wanted to crawl into a hole. He was such a shitty mate, a shitty Alpha.
He immediately shook his head and said in his most calming voice, “No, sweetheart, no. I’m just kicking myself and trying to figure out how I fucked this up so badly.” At Tanner’s confused frown, Jacks tried to explain the jumbled feelings in his chest. “I love that you’re getting along with the guys. I wanted you to, really. I just… I see you laugh with them, tease them, and just generally act like you like them. I thought we’d have that as mates. But—even when we’re having sex—you barely smile around me, let alone laugh.”
Tanner blinked a moment. His eyes, usually soft and glassy or lowered and docile, sharpened slightly. He looked at Jackson like he had offered some sort of curious riddle. “Have you been wanting me to tease you and laugh?”
Jackson sighed and wasn’t sure exactly how to clarify without making nonsensical comments about ice cream and sour milk. “It’s more just that, if you’re the kind of person who does those things, shouldn’t you be able to do them with your mate?”
Tanner chewed his lip a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing a bit. “Um,” Tanner murmured, “can I… can I try to explain a few things?”
Jackson nodded slowly. At the encouragement, Tanner suddenly began to launch into a complicated and technical explanation of bites, scent glands, and immune responses. As he spoke, his gestures became more animated and his voice clearer. Suddenly, Tanner was not the shaking, whining Omega from the basement, not the stranger that Jackson had bitten in a heady mix of sweet cream and heat without knowing his name. Instead, he was the crazy-smart freshman from Jackson’s stats class, the one who answered the professor’s questions with a confident tone and broke the curve on their first test.
Jacks hadn’t realized that he hadn’t really thought of those two Tanners as the same person. He felt a blush heat his cheeks at the thought, and then an apology automatically escape from his lips as Tanner explained how much upsetting a bonded Alpha caused literal pain for an Omega, basically attacking their immune system like an allergen or a virus.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Tanner insisted in reply. “I’m just giving you an example and trying to explain that upsetting your bonded Alpha is pretty much instinctive Omega 101 avoid at all costs. But that doesn’t happen to the same degree with non-bonded Alphas, right? So, I can tease Brad and seriously piss off Cliff or beat Kyle at a video game, and I just… don’t care? I mean, I care because saying I don’t care sounds like I’m a sociopath, but it’s not—not the same. Does that make sense?”
Tanner’s voice was firmer, more instructional. Completely different than the demure murmurs of the last few weeks. Jackson found himself nodding slowly.
“It does,” he agreed. Then he hesitated a moment. He thought of his own reactions to Tanner’s scents, the way that he was drawn to the sweetness, the way he wanted to either fix or escape from the sourness when he couldn’t figure out what was causing it. If Tanner had his own fears and concerns around Jackson’s scent, were they just trapped in this pattern forever? Was Tanner always just going to lower his eyes and tell Jacks what he thought he wanted to hear? Would he hide his confident voice and keep his discomfort buried? Was Tanner ever really going to be able to relax and laugh with him—to show Jacks who the hell he was?
Some version of these questions came tumbling out of Jackson’s mouth, causing Tanner to wince and hesitate. He mumbled something about not feeling safe, which caused Jackson to want to cry. He had tried so hard to do this right, he thought.
After a few more moments of shuffling hesitation, Tanner seemed to think and correct himself. “It’s not… I mean, I do feel safe,” he said, “I feel secure and protected in the sense that you’re not going to try and physically hurt me, and I know that if someone else tried to harm me that you’d protect me. I can tell that you’re a decent person—you’re patient and you’re sweet. But I don’t actually know you know you, which makes it hard.”
“But we’re mates. We spend so much time together, we sleep together, we eat together, and—” Jackson paused, frowning to himself as he remembered about how easy those first days had seemed, how relieved he had felt about finally having a mate, an Omega mate, to call his own. “I guess I assumed it’d happen naturally.”
He couldn’t quite pinpoint what caused the story of his parents to come tumbling out then. He knew that neither Cliff nor Nick would have encouraged him to talk about his parents’ divorce with his Omega mate. They probably would have noted that it was a topic that was likely to make an Omega feel instable and unsafe, to ruin the bond even more. Tanner, however, seemed to be intrigued. His eyes became brighter and sharper again, and at one point he began to thoughtfully chew his lip the way Jacks vaguely remembered him doing in their stats class lectures.
Jackson knew he shouldn’t admit how out of his depth he was feeling with Tanner, shouldn’t admit to being anything but an in-control Alpha who could take care of his mate. But he also couldn’t seem to stop himself. The conflicting advice and uncertainty began to pour out of him. “I’ve been reading books and following advice from friends,” he admitted. “Nick sent me some emails. And Cliff’s been giving me tips, though I never know how much to follow Cliff’s advice on Omegas because—”
“Because he’s a major control freak?” Tanner supplied flatly. He then immediately seemed to realize the bluntness of both his tone and his words, his cheeks flushing into a bright blush.
Jacks laughed. “Not exactly what I was going to say, but not wrong. Cliff’s just… not the guy I feel like I should take advice from on bonding. His family is very, well, traditional.”
Tanner’s eyes sharpened again and the thoughtful lip-chew returned. “His father’s a doctor, right?”
“Yes,” Jacks replied, “a surgeon. Brad and I went to his house last year for part of the holidays. Cliff’s father takes the Alpha ‘head of the family’ role very seriously and keeps a very tight grip on his house. Though lately,” he hesitated only slightly before admitting, “I’ve wondered if maybe I should have listened to Cliff more. Given you more structure and—”
“Oh no,” Tanner interrupted with an immediate flush that seemed to indicate his strong irritation at the idea, “definitely would not recommend listening to Cliff more. If I had Cliff as a mate instead of you, I imagine that we’d have murdered each other in less than a month.”
Interesting. His Omega—Tanner—was getting bolder and blunter with each sentence. Jackson smiled. “Murdered? Should I have been more worried about my safety during the start of our bonding?”
Tanner’s cheeks flushed again, but the sharpness in his eyes became brighter with amusement. “Yes,” Tanner replied dryly. “You should have been so worried. Sharp, tiny, and dangerous, that’s me.”
Jacks grinned widely and chuckled at the mental image. He tried to imagine the sweet, docile little Omega who could barely look at him for weeks as “dangerous.” But then again, that image of Tanner as this docile little Omega didn’t really fit either. Apparently, there was another Tanner—a clever, sarcastic, brash version of himself that had been hidden away for the past several weeks.
Jackson wanted to know that Tanner. He wanted to know his mate.
They talked a bit more, and Tanner’s eyes stayed sharp and centered, his scent mostly clear and clean. As Tanner explained more about the reactions between Omegas and Alphas, Jackson found some of his insecurities lessening. Tanner was weirdly knowledgeable about the biological reactions that occurred when an Omega bonded with their Alpha and seemed convinced that Jackson hadn’t completely and utterly screwed it up at any rate. “You’ve done that just fine,” he insisted at one point. “I feel very bonded. This is us,” he gestured loosely at the space between them, “totally bonded. All our relevant bio responses seem to be in sync.”
Tanner hesitated and then went on to explain that biological bonding wasn’t the same as emotional bonding, however. Getting to know one another, to laugh and tease, wasn’t really something he thought most other Alphas or guidebooks recommended. Instead, he said, most people were more focused on making sure “that you’re Omega doesn’t, like, slit their wrists or jump off a bridge in despair after you bite them.”
Jackson started. He felt a laugh of surprise escape his lips. “I think that’s a little pessimistic. The bar is hopefully set a little higher than that!”
Almost immediately, Tanner’s expression glazed over again, and his eyes lowered as his scent turned sharp and sour. Fuck. “Okay, now you’re doing it again,” Jacks said, his voice full of desperate frustration.
Tanner froze and looked up. “Doing what?” he asked. His eyes flashed, and he had an almost obstinate, offended expression on his face at the suggestion that he was “doing” anything wrong
Jackson softened his voice and tried to explain. He didn’t want to shame Tanner for his scent, but he needed his mate to understand his ongoing frustration. “Feeling sad. You do that so often, but whenever I’ve asked you what was wrong, you’ve denied it. I’m your Alpha and your mate, remember? I want to help and take care of you. But you never ask for help, even when I can smell how distraught you are. Why is that?”
Tanner blinked at him as he muttered back, “Well, you can’t really help for one.”
“You don’t know that,” Jacks insisted in reply. “I can’t change your presentation or the whole world out there, but maybe I could still make things easier for you. If I just knew what you needed or what was hurting. Maybe talking about it at least would help?”
“No,” Tanner snapped, his voice harsh and a near-growl, “talking about it makes it real. That’s so much worse.” Tanner’s hand was to his mouth almost immediately, like he wanted to catch the words and draw them back into himself. Then his eyes began to tear and his lip began to tremble. Jackson didn’t hesitate—he pulled Tanner to him, began to rub his hair and whisper comfort to him. Soon, Tanner began to sob openly into Jackson’s chest. His hands made fists in Jackson’s button-up shirt, but he didn’t fight or hit. Instead, he let himself be comforted and held and hushed until his breath slowed and his sobs became softer hiccups. Jacks intentionally didn’t try and shut down Tanner’s emotional response—didn’t pinch the back of his neck like a trainer and try to force him to feel anything other than what he was in that moment. He just let him cry.
Finally, Tanner’s breath slowed and they sat in silence. Tanner snuggled against Jackson’s shirt for another moment before he muttered, “I really don’t like asking for help. And I’m not good at talking about my feelings. At all.”
Jackson nodded slowly, the information clicking their previous interactions slightly more clearly into focus. Tanner usually avoided talking about his emotions. Well, that changed things. Jacks was used to always talking out his feelings. After the divorce, his mom had basically forced him and his sister to talk out their emotional reactions ad nauseum, refusing to let them leave the room until all of their anger and frustration and hurt and insecurities had been wrung out like a damp kitchen rag. While it had been annoying for him as a middle-schooler, now he and his sister were both quick to verbalize and process their feelings aloud, to bluntly ask each other and others around them about their emotions and responses. He sometimes forgot that others didn’t do the same.
Tanner seemed in particular to have had just about the opposite experience growing up. Jacks listened as Tanner explained the early death of his mother, his father’s vehement hatred of both softer emotions and male Omegas.
“Oh, Tanner,” Jacks whispered as he softly pet his mate’s hair, “I’m really sorry for you.”
The statement caused Tanner to jolt as if he had been suddenly burned by something. “Um, it’s okay,” he murmured with a flush on his cheeks.
“It’s actually not,” Jacks insisted. God, he just wanted to protect this young man, this Omega, his mate. He wanted to go back and erase all the hurt and pain, to cuddle him close and make him feel safe and loved. Since he couldn’t do that, he tried for empathy. “You must have had such a hard time with your presentation after growing up with messages like that around you,” he said softly.
Tanner blinked up at Jackson a moment then deadpanned with venomous sarcasm, “Yeah, plus really minor details like losing all my rights, having my entire nervous system rewritten, and getting kicked out of school. No big deal though.”
Oh. Right. Fuck.
Jackson felt like an idiot. An absolute idiot. He had been reading all of Tanner’s scents as about him. He hadn’t even really considered the fact that Tanner was so much more than just his newly mated Omega. He was also a student—a crazy smart student—who was no longer allowed to be enrolled in classes. He was also a son and a brother who had lost his family. He was a person who had lost everything that made him who he was. The whole world was going to see Tanner as just “Jackson’s Omega,” and that’s how Jackson had been thinking about him these past weeks too.
Jackson silently chastised himself for being such a selfish asshole. Tanner must have taken Jackson’s unhappy expression as being about him though, as he quickly muttered, “Um, sorry. I guess I actually am getting more comfortable being myself around you. Which, uh, means I should probably warn you that my sense of humor isn’t very nice sometimes.”
Jacks shook his head. “No, that’s… totally fair.” He tried to put his thoughts in order, to let Tanner know that he understood, or at least wanted to understand. He started with a tentative, “Look, I— I know it’s not easy being an Omega. You’d think I’d be more mindful of that after some of my history classes. I guess I was hoping I could do better for my own mate, like if I were just patient and kind then that would somehow make up for—” He waved loosely at the air, unable to express the vastness of the world and systems around them.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Tanner half-sighed, “I mean, you’re really not doing terribly. I know it could be worse—a lot worse.”
“Again,” Jackson groaned, “that’s a pretty low bar.”
“True, but one you still cleared,” Tanner declared. He placed his hand on top of Jackson’s. When Jacks looked over, both Tanner’s eyes and his scent were clear and bright. “And, well, we’re mated forever, right? So, there’s still time to make things better.”
Jackson blinked. Fuck. This kid—Tanner—was so sweet and so smart. Jackson knew that he couldn’t solve all of Tanner’s problems, couldn’t change all the laws or the social expectations or the unfair biology. But he could love the fuck out of him, could do his best not to be selfish or self-important again, could talk with him and comfort him, could let him know he was in his corner.
In that moment, Jacks made a promise to himself. He was going to find Tanner’s sweet cream scent, the one that made him think of summer days and ice cream, but not because it made Jackson happy. No, instead he’d find it because that scent meant that Tanner was happy.
That night, their love making was some of the most intense they’d had yet as mates. Jackson wanted Tanner to feel free, to not be restrained in any way. He kept his hands off of the Omega’s body at first, just gave Tanner space to explore his own skin, to touch himself and finger himself open until his breath was ragged, his small cock was leaking, and his slick was practically painting his pale thighs. Your body doesn’t belong to me, Jackson thought silently at his mate as he watched him arch off the bed and cry out his pleasure. You are my mate, but you don’t belong to me. Anyone who tries to tell you different can fuck off—including me.
Finally, Jackson couldn’t take it anymore. He wrapped his hand around Tanner’s cock and helped bring him off until his mate was gasping almost to the point of shrieking. Jackson leaned in and kissed him, hot and deep, hoping to communicate at least some of his hopes and admiration through his kiss. As Tanner groaned into his mouth, Jackson shifted and pulled Tanner close. He locked his eyes on Tanner’s face and watched with fascination at his changing expressions as Jackson entered his mate.
Jacks tried to memorize every bit lip and scrunched nose, every gasp and widening eyes as he thrust into his mate’s tight heat. The feeling of Tanner was absolute ecstasy around his cock, but Jackson tried not to get distracted by that, instead keeping his eyes locked on his mate’s. The intensity built and their eyes stayed fixed on one another as Jackson’s knot pressed firmly past the barrier of Tanner’s opening, as Tanner cried out and his nails dug into the skin of Jackson’s back. Jackson groaned as Tanner’s insides locked tightly onto his cock and knot, his spasming flesh holding him in a tight, hot grip. It was nearly too much, and Jackson captured Tanner’s mouth with his own as he came, his vision bright white as his ejaculate poured hotly into Tanner.
When Jackson pulled back, Tanner’s eyes were wet, but his scent was sweet. Sugar and cream. He smiled up at Jackson, blinking away the tears of his intense orgasm. Then they kissed again, passionately but languid. They murmured against each other, cuddling close as they rocked lightly through the deflating of Jackson’s knot and erection.
Maybe this was what being bonded actually felt like, Jackson pondered. Not being bonded to “an Omega,” but to Tanner.
Jackson wanted to hold Tanner close and never let him go. As the wet spot cooled, however, he finally sighed, “We should probably take a shower at some point. It’s getting close to dinner time too. Is there anything you need to—”
“We have leftovers,” Tanner sighed. “Microwave.”
“Okay, should we—”
“Jacks,” Tanner interrupted, “I’m exhausted, and I just want to lie here in our bed for awhile with my mate. That okay?”
Jackson blinked and then broke into a wide smile. Tanner smiled back, his eyes clear and his scent sweet. “It’s more than okay,” Jacks said. God, he was going to keep this Omega of his—Tanner—happy and loved if it absolutely killed him. “That actually sounds perfect.”