Yuri smiles faintly, making sure not to let any self-satisfaction creep into his expression, before sliding the side of his foot up the curve of Dimitri's calf as he fingers the side of his cup. )
I wouldn't worry about that, Dimitri.
( That smile turns reassuring. )
I mean, I've seen what your Crest can do on the battlefield. I wouldn't have brought you here tonight if I didn't think I could handle it — or if I thought it made you any less suitable for this.
( There's a moment of consideration, then: )
Have you lain with another boy before?
( While it's tempting to throw out some names — Sylvain, Dedue, perhaps even Felix — Yuri knows better than to bring up a guy's companions while easing him into the idea of sex. Besides, there's a very real possibility that invoking the Faerghan nobles would give him cold feet about the whole thing, and so instead of making guesses he contents himself with unclasping his half-cloak and draping it over the back of his chair. )
Or a girl?
( Just because the guy has 'virgin' written all over him doesn't mean that's actually the case, after all, and Yuri wants to know what he's going to be dealing with. )
[Yuri's boot rubbing along his calf suddenly seems to draw all of his attention, yanking it away from the table and down to where there's pressure and the soft caress of his trouser leg's fabric, all interesting texture and sensation that shouldn't be gripping him as hard as they are, somehow.
Aware that he's close to a mistake, he tries to cover it by clearing his throat. It doesn't altogether work.]
In Faerghus it's custom for nobles to, ah. Witness the consummation of a marriage. I've been present. Occasionally.
[Also, he's friends with Sylvain, but that goes without saying, so he doesn't say it.]
I may not boast the experience of some, but I'm not ignorant. I'm aware of the differences, when it's a man.
( Yuri just nods, before rising to his feet so that he can properly close and lock the door. It isn't usual for the Seer's quarters to be closed — she makes a point of always being available to those who need help in matters they can't bring to the Goddess — but every now and then, when Yuri as a lot of money riding on a tryst and he loses a bickering match with Balthus ... )
You nobles and your customs.
( He sighs, but there's amusement sparkling in his eyes as he approaches the table again. There's a bed tucked against the other side of the room, plush with mismatched pillows and gauzy drapery that some people might find inviting. In Yuri's opinion, it's a bit much, but then his own bed is a comfortable nest of Balthus's cast-offs and worn, threadbare blankets.
He isn't really in any position to be criticising someone else's sleeping space. )
Anyway, luckily for you? Boasters don't really do it for me.
( He teases, extending a palm for Dimitri to take so that he can help him to his feet. Yuri might be older but the prince is already a good few inches taller than him — something the omega in him silently appreciates as he moves to unfasten the front of his uniform. Beneath it, Yuri wears a thin ivory shirt tucked into the high waist of his pants; it's a little sheer in the low light, and pink nipples are just visible beneath the fabric as he tosses the dark outer layer to the floor. )
Why don't you take a seat on the bed, hm?
( A hand lifts to cup Dimitri's cheek with an easy smirk. )
And I'll show you what you're getting yourself into.
Customs have their uses, I suppose, but...truthfully, I agree with you.
[And that may well be the first non-anxious thing he's said since he made his way down into Abyss. The hurdle, it seems, had been getting him past his own hangups and misgivings; once surmounted, he's far more amenable to going along with Yuri's flow and seeing where it leads him.
(He hadn't noticed the bed at first, truthfully. Now, as he's led toward it, he isn't altogether sure how he could've missed it.)
But he lets Yuri guide him, amicable almost to the point of being properly called pliant, and when he settles down on the bed, he's thankfully less rigid than he was at tea — his knees slightly spread instead of jammed tightly together, his spine relaxed, his arms resting on the tops of his legs.]
May I touch you?
[He's so polite, this future king.]
Or — no. No, of course you should lead. I'm sorry; but please direct me as you see fit.
( Yuri closes the distance between them to the point where he's within touching distance - but Dimitri probably knows better than to think this means he's going to get whatbhe wants right away. That cute polite streak of his ... Yuri can't help but want to put it to the test, just to see if there's more to the prince than the sense of propriety he's clinging on to even now. )
No touching yet.
( He confirms, his eyes on Dimitri as he pulls the shirt from where it's tucked into his trousers. A moment later sees it unfastened, peeled away, discarded, before Yuri toes his way out of his boots and stocking to leave him standing there in just his trousers. )
... I may have been a little creative with the truth, regarding what I said earlier.
( He confesses - giving a very good impression of someone who's genuinely apologetic. Yuri's fingers skim over the fastenings of his trousers before popping them open and pushing them down, revealing soft, bare hips, gently rounded, between which sits the neatly waxed vee of his pussy.
Yuri is an omega. )
Still a man's parts, but an omega man's parts.
( He says wryly, placing one hand on his hip as he cocks it to let Dimitri look his fill. )
Don't get yourself all worked up about it, though, Handsome. You're not gonna take me there.
[If he were a little more of the cunning sort, maybe Dimitri would've been able to hide the way his eyes slowly widen — not even from what's revealed when Yuri's trousers come off, but just from watching his garments peel away at all. He makes it look so elegant, moving with natural grace even when he's giving every impression of just being utilitarian about it, and as each new patch of skin is revealed, the weight of no touching yet burns a little more.
And — there, finally, Yuri stands bared before him, and honestly with the way Yuri leads his house and his battalions, Dimitri had sort of had him pegged as another alpha himself, so this comes as an unexpected revelation. He has to make himself swallow back the twinge of instinct that flutters in his gut, his alpha instincts stirred out of dormancy by the sight and scent of an omega's soft curves close enough to touch, close enough to lean forward and lick...
But the last thing he wants is for Yuri to consider him a brute of an alpha, himself. He's the heir to the throne of Faerghus, he knows how to control himself. He won't lose his manners. He'll behave.]
I see I'll have to be on my guard around your silver tongue.
[Speaking of tongues, he swallows again, trying not to scent or lean forward or act out.]
I understand, but perhaps I could...kiss you?
[Lord's kisses, they called it in the stories of Loog and Kyphon. The proper way for any alpha to treat an omega, putting their mouth and tongue to pleasurable use.]
( Yuri watches realisation melt over Dimitri's expression with an amused kind of patience, and later he'll fancy he could pinpoint the precise moment the alpha in him recognises what it's seeing. Visually, certainly, but Yuri isn't so far removed from his own biology that he doesn't feel the pull too — a deep, preening satisfaction of being in the presence of an alpha.
His pussy throbs. )
You'd put your mouth on me?
( Balthus does that for him — very enthusiastically, too — but he hadn't necessarily expected that Dimitri might want to do the same. Then again, if he was taught the ins and outs of alpha-omega behaviour from those old Faerghan fairy-tales ... )
I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.
( Yuri steps closer, his thighs perhaps more plump and inviting than the long cut of his uniform would suggest. Two fingers press gently beneath Dimitri's chin to coax him into looking up at him properly: )
Take your gloves off for me, hm? Then you can touch.
[It's not unheard-of for two alphas to lie together; it's that very knowledge that's kept the professor in his fantasies, even after their respective standings had been shared. Naturally there's no procreation possible, and some alphas avoid it because of the possibility of tensions running high and instincts of dominance getting out of hand, preferring to maintain their relationships instead of risking them on careless, charged liaisons. And when he'd assumed that Yuri was an alpha, that all had sort of followed — particularly the part about blowing off steam, letting one's instincts out after the heat of battle.
But this — this rouses an entirely new instinct in him. He knows it the instant Yuri's bare pussy twinges, knows it on an instinctual level he can't even begin to try to describe. He knows it because he's genetically programmed to be attuned to it, a biological imperative to assert strength and claim and mate.
And that rattles him a little. It's hard enough keeping his own demons in check, without the added recklessness of having a lovely soft omega standing in front of him, inviting him, tempting him toward choices he's supposed to know better than to indulge.]
Oh — yes. Yes, the gloves, of course.
[It's a distraction, a point to focus on, but it doesn't last him for long. He releases the fastenings and begins to tug his gauntlets off, neatly setting them aside, but his involuntary reactions are already threatening to bubble up and expose themselves.
When he finally looks back, his hands bared and his gloves tucked away, he can't hold himself back anymore. Not entirely. Not enough.
Deep, deep in the back of his throat, he rumbles a faint and interested purr. In its way, it's the aural equivalent of a wink or a nod thrown across a crowded room, an attention-seeking noise keyed to solicit a reaction. It's a sound he's never made before; he's never had reason to. It's not a noise that alphas make at other alphas.
He can't look away — and couldn't, even without the fingers beneath his chin. Helpless to stop himself, it spills out again — rich and thick and deep, hello, have you noticed me? you should.]
( Yuri knows that sound — but Seiros, is it ever sweeter when it's coming form Dimitri. In truth he's a little surprised by how much that rumble effects him — there have been plenty of instances in which an alpha has tried to get his attention and he's brushed it off with easy disinterest — and yet there's something about the openness of his gaze, the rich sound of the purr ...
He's noticed him. The whole reason they're even here is because Yuri has noticed him — and that soft sound stirs at those omega urges he goes to lengths to hide behind closed doors. In truth he doesn't mind the people he has sex with knowing what he is — he certainly isn't ashamed it, much as certain echelons of society might sometimes prefer him to be — but more than anything else?
It's not good business to be outed as an omega when you're running an underground gang. Better to keep it to moments like this, when Yuri can put himself on his hands and knees and present to an alpha without having to worry about appearances.
His own purr is pitched a little higher than Dimitri's. It's a soft, inviting response of yes, I've noticed you, and I've chosen you, and Yuri exhales softly through his mouth as he begins to pick up the thick warmth of the prince's scent. For all he's working hard to remain in control here there's nothing quite like the aroma of a wanting alpha, and Yuri swallows hard as his hands skim up his torso to cup the just-barely soft flesh surrounding hard, pink nipples. )
D'you want to see?
( He doesn't wait for an answer. Yuri slides onto the bed and shifts so he's laying back against the decorative pillows, his thighs parted and a knee bent to coax Dimitri's attention to the hot pink slit between his legs. It's plump and soft, slightly damp with arousal as his body reacts to his proximity to Dimitri, and it's waxed smooth but for a pretty strip of violet hair. )
Just being around you makes me feel good, you know.
( He murmurs — and honestly, too, before letting another purr roll between them as he opens his legs a little wider. )
[Oh. Oh, what a lovely sound, the proper answer to the call-and-response he'd unthinkingly initiated. His alpha instincts are pleased, approving of the result his overture had drawn in return. No need to posture or go out of his way to prove why interest in him should be an inevitability, and while there are some alphas who might feel a little cheated out of the opportunity to boast and prove their mettle in that way, Dimitri's are too accustomed to restraint, too pleased at the prospect of acceptance.
Dimitri knows that Yuri is in front of him, unclothed, experienced well beyond his own measure. The alpha in him sees it the opposite way, perceiving only a lithe and supple omega signaling its own desires, waiting for him to do as both their natures direct.
He tries to remind himself that it's Dimitri who needs to keep the upper hand, here. It's Dimitri who has a reputation to protect. Dimitri who has to walk back out of this encounter and go about the rest of his life.
The alpha has no such concerns. It merely wants what it's already decided it's entitled to.]
Seeing doesn't even come close to what I want.
[It's like someone else said it, someone else with a dark and gravelly voice, rich with desire.]
I...m-my apologies. I'm keeping you waiting.
[He slides a little closer along the mattress, edging near enough that he can reach out with his bare hand and curve it behind Yuri's raised knee, slowly and almost respectfully leaning in to touch a kiss to the inside of his thigh.
He needs to go slowly, he reminds himself. Slowly and carefully, and stay in control.]
Your scent is very pretty.
[He risks another kiss, then another, slowly working his way up Yuri's leg toward the tantalizing heat waiting for him.]
Yuri has caught glimpses of that version of Dimitri as he's cut a path through the battlefield; he's seen the wildfire in his eyes, the depth of his need for blood, and he feels his clit jump in response to that rough tone that fills the space between them.
The omega in him laments the moment Dimitri's sense of propriety kicks in a moment later and squashes that part of himself back down — but it's too late for him to try to get away with it. His pussy is wet, slick and glossy from the low rumble of Dimitri's words, and Yuri has to let his eyes slide shut for a moment or two so that he can gather himself again. )
... Mm. You think so? Constance makes me a tonic that helps make it less strong ... y'know, keeping up with appearances, that whole thing.
( There's a reason Dimitri had pegged Yuri as an alpha, after all, and he's needed a little help in making sure that's how he's perceived. It isn't surprising that the prince can detect his true scent now — he's laying in front of him with his legs spread, for Serios' sake — but it'd be even prettier if Yuri weren't going to all the effort of keeping it as muted as possible.
The line of kisses winding its way up Yuri's thigh makes it hard to focus on such things. His teeth skim over a plump lower lip as he props himself up on a bent elbow: )
A Lord's kiss from the prince of Faerghus ...
( Dimitri isn't the only one who's up on his raunchy lore. A playful smile touches Yuri's lips as he strokes his fingers through gold-spun hair with his free hand: )
You're gonna make me the envy of every omega this side of Sreng.
That would involve admitting to them that you're an omega, first.
[He edges closer with another kiss, closer still, taking his time but also carefully working up his nerve; what he's about to do, he's going to attempt based purely on instinct and the stories he's heard all his life, and one or two in-person demonstrations viewed from far away and behind the tasteful obstruction of a gauzy curtain. Perhaps he has no talents, and Yuri's talk of envy is premature; still, both sides of him want to try, the prince to live up to the legend they're spinning out between them, and the alpha out of simpler pressing desire to claim the omega before him in whatever way he can.
But all Yuri's reactions are positive ones, and help his confidence along. It feels nice to have his hair caressed, to be close enough to catch his scent from behind the blockers. It's a pity he won't be able to taste him, defective alpha that he is. He already looks so wet and inviting.
So he moves at last, lips parting faintly as he does finally bring them to touch Yuri's slit in a perfect imitation of a kiss — pressure first, then a tip of his chin and a brush of his tongue, then again and deeper before the first one has even really concluded, the flat of his tongue parting the slick folds as it drags past them, slow and winding wet itself.]
( There's a tremulous quality to the sigh that leaves Yuri when Dimitri finally puts his mouth on him; the sweet pressure of lips that tilts into to something more as he explores the idea of a real, true kiss. His thigh twitches as he does his best to keep his hips still for the young prince: he's new to this, he reminds himself, and there's a darkness to this alpha that Balthus doesn't share ...
It could make him unpredictable, and pushing too hard during such a moment could have frustrating consequences. )
... Just like that.
( He praises him, unable to keep the syrup-softness from his voice as his omega nature begins to truly take hold. It's always like this when he fucks an alpha: Yuri can play at being in charge until lips, cock, or fingers find his pussy, at which point he slowly begins to unravel until he's a keening mess of want.
The fact that it's happening a little more quickly than usual? Well. That passes him by entirely.
Yuri sinks back against the pillows as he bends his knees to frame Dimitri's head between this thighs. It always feels so good to give in to this part of himself — to let an alpha worship the petal-soft folds that make him different — and he tilts his hips up towards him in offering as he resists squirming against the sheets. Violet eyeshadow catches the light his eyes slip closed for a moment, another of those tender purrs rumbling up from the very back of his throat. )
[He mumbles his approval, eyes half-lidded, as he continues to tongue and kiss between Yuri's legs; it aches to be deprived the chance to taste the slick he knows is collecting on his tongue, but between the scent and the noises that Yuri is making, there's still plenty to get lost in. His bare hands, free of their gauntlets, move to rest against the outsides of Yuri's thighs, holding his legs with possessiveness when they close in around his head, and it occurs to him that some part of this was supposed to be about blowing off steam but the only satisfaction he really wants right now is every new purr that spills from Yuri's lips, acknowledging the alpha in his midst.
He licks more firmly as his confidence grows, less testing and more in pursuit of results; his own heady scent is starting to fill the air around them, thick with Faerghian forest smells of snow and fur and firesmoke. When he finds Yuri's clit, it's mostly by accident, first with the flat of his tongue on a long upstroke, and then circling more curiously with the tip as he acquaints himself with it.]
Are you still so sure you don't want me to take you here...?
[His voice has gone dark again, edged with possessiveness and desire.]
Your body says otherwise. It knows what it was made for.
( Yuri's own honey-warm aroma rolls from him in waves as the heady scent of Dimitri's arousal swells between them, seeming to soak into every pore and stir those bone-deep urges into a slightly more desperate state. When the questing lap of his tongue finds the nub of his clit he finds himself thrown into a violent shiver: )
Ah—!
( As his pussy clenches and aches for something big, something thick, to sink inside and make him feel better.
He lays there reeling for a moment as the little aftershocks of pleasure ripple through him. There's part of him that's all but preening at his being the first clit Dimitri has licked: more slick wets his folds as his gaze drags over hot blue eyes, damp lips, the press of fingertips into his thighs, and he finds himself momentarily (thrillingly) locked into place as the dark edge to his voice cuts through the hazy quiet. )
... My body doesn't know what's best for us.
( He breathes — for all it physically aches to go against his nature like this. Denying an alpha his pussy feels wrong on a fundamental level — like a rejection of everything that makes them who they are — and he has to screw his eyes tightly shut for a long moment in an attempt to better arrange his thoughts. )
And I promised you I wouldn't pop a kid out nine months down the line.
( It's a slightly strained attempt at levity, but Yuri's smile is slanting and genuine. )
Still ...
( He raises an eyebrow. )
You could take me with your fingers instead? While you kiss me.
[I know what's best for you, that same dark voice rumbles in the back of Dimitri's mind, spurring him on as he starts to press his own thighs together, seeking to stave off some of his own desire with fleeting friction as he continues to unravel the omega beneath him. This is very much how it goes in the stories, after all — some alphas are crude and brutal, simply bending their omegas over and taking them with abandon, but the proper ones, the noble ones, they unwind their prey like this, they prove themselves for the worthy mates they are until they're really only claiming what's already theirs to begin with.
— until Yuri's reminder of heirs snaps like a bowstring against his hazy mind, and his eyes widen as for an instant, the heady fog of arousal clears back into sharp, uncertain clarity.
Right. Right. It would be — disastrous, a scandal, to say nothing of the fact that it would be utterly inhumane to burden Yuri with a child that certainly he doesn't want to begin with. No, he's got to be better than this. No, he's got to stay in control.
Even if the alpha in him hates it. Even if the alpha roars at his weakness, his cowardice at holding himself back from fucking and knotting this delicious morsel of an omega like he's supposed to.]
R-Right, of course. I meant — only that I'm glad you're enjoying it. That's what I meant.
[He breaks away briefly to kiss the inside of Yuri's thigh again, grasping for control of himself, and when he returns he brings one of his hands with him, letting his fingers stroke up and down through Yuri's slick for a minute in place of his tongue.]
I would hate for you to find me an unsatisfactory bedmate.
( Yuri swears he feels the moment that rational thought bursts through the dreamy haze of their shared arousal, and for a moment he finds himself absolutely despising himself for being the one to cool the moment. His stomach twists up into a tight knot as the omega shrieks and shudders for him to take it back — but he doesn't, but he can't, if only because that path might ruin this forever. )
Believe me, Dimitri ...
( And this time when he speaks he sounds ever so slightly hoarse with want. )
There's nothing unsatisfactory about being with you.
( A hand reaches for that golden head again so he can soothe his fingers through his hair, his expression unusually open for someone Dimitri might know for holding his secrets close to his chest. There's only so much Yuri can do to hide his emotions when he's like this: he'd irritably describe it as alphas simply having a way of laying siege to his defences, but in truth?
It's the omega in him, leaving the gates wide open as it aches to be wholly conquered. )
So don't worry, hm? You've already proven you can please me.
( His slick pussy, throbbing clit, and the scent hanging between them should be testament enough to that, but just in case Dimitri needs the extra encouragement? Yuri rolls his hips down towards his fingers, which presses the tips into the slick heat of him on a keening little gasp. )
[He didn't know it could feel so good, the smooth reassurance of Yuri's approval. Maybe it's because he knows he's a complete novice at this that it's easier to believe in the veracity of it; there's no preconceived expectations, no real benchmark to measure himself against besides stories and instincts. It's easier to believe in his own success when the only standard of it is Yuri's pleasure, and the evidence of that pleasure is thick in the air, in his ears, on his lips.
He sighs, shivering all over from the satisfaction of it, disproportionately pleased by such simple praise. He's not unsatisfactory. He's pleasing his partner. He's enough.
For once, he's finally enough.]
Then I will do everything I can to continue on as I have been.
[His fingertips penetrate into Yuri's heat, and the sound of his gasp brings a notion to Dimitri's mind; carefully, he rearranges his hand's position, hooking two fingers inside while the heel of his hand rides up to bump against Yuri's clit. It's not the same as a proper cock, not by any means, but he tries to create the illusion of it anyway, imitating a slow thrust or two while he watches Yuri's face for a reaction.]
You're...you're hot inside...
[He whispers under his breath, like it's a revelation.]
( Yuri would chuckle at Dimitri's near-stunned comment if not for the deep, slow of those fingers inside him. Perhaps he hadn't necessarily realise just how ready he was to have something pressing at him from the inside: a hot flush of pink settles across his cheekbones as he sinks back against the pillows for a moment, his breath leaving him in a panting groan as the pad of his hand rubs up against his clit. )
H-Hah ...
( Dimitri might not have the experience of his other some-time lovers but he's still an alpha - he can still work on instinct - and as his hand moves against him Yuri finds himself tipping his head back to bare the tender-soft front of his throat )
That's a good thing, right?
( There's a breathless little chuckle in his reply if only because the implications should be obvious: if he weren't hot inside, Dimitri would have a lot more to work about than whether or not it matters that he's he's omega. Instinct has him curling his hands against the backs of his knees to pull his thighs up to his chest, exposing himself utterly to the curious nature of the alpha between his legs. )
... You can go harder than that if you want.
( There's a beat, and then because in his hormone-addled haze it seems natural enough to say it: )
[He will not, will not, lose control of himself again. Never mind that he's shaking a little from the effort of it, as the scent of willing omega grows heavy in the air and stirs up his most primal inclinations. Never mind that he's aching himself, appreciative of foreplay while at the same time frustrated with anything that delays or prevents him from the moment when he's permitted to bury himself to the hilt in his omega's body. Their instincts don't know what's best for them; he has to remember that. His instincts, in this moment, are wrong.
Of course, his instincts don't like that one bit, but he can't surrender to them. He can't.
He wants to.
He can't.]
Yuri, put. Put your head down.
[He runs his tongue over his lip reflexively, then makes himself bite down on it more deliberately, his eyes locked on that supple column of skin bared so prettily for him, offered to him. It would be so easy to lean up and bite it, to make it so that any other alpha who comes across Yuri knows he's not up for the taking.
He can't.
He squeezes his eyes shut a moment, tries to focus. Harder, harder with his fingers. That, he can do, and it will appease some of the rising alpha in him. He's made to give an omega what it wants, just as an omega is made to take him.]
Don't give me your neck, I want it too much...
[To go harder, he needs a little more leverage; he moves, shifting his position so that he's leaning more directly over Yuri's body, helping to press his legs back and out while he works a third finger into him and barely leaves time to adjust before pushing all three of them deeper than before.
Unable to help himself, he starts to growl again, that low and rumbling purr that originates deep in his throat, that instinctual wordless sound that croons approval and asks submission. Good omega. Pretty omega. His omega.
( It takes a long moment for Dimitri's strained request to filter through the fog of Yuri's arousal. In truth he's finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself focused on the task at hand: he'd gone into this with every intention of sticking to his plan, but now here he is, on his back with his legs bent and his throat bared for a bite. He pulls in a shaky gasp before returning his head to a more relaxed, natural position, his pupils wide and dark as he looks down his body to where Dimitri is shifting up between his legs. )
Ah— ... sorry about that, Handsome.
( Slender fingers rake trough the lilac mess of his own hair in an attempt to ground himself in a new sensation. The smile he tosses at Dimitri is playfully self-deprecating: )
Seems like I forgot myself just a little.
( But there's a breathless waver in his voice — one that suggests he can feel the alpha's displeasure as it rages against Dimitri's self control, and that his own body is equally as desperate for them to give in to what they need.
This isn't right.
It isn't right — there's a worthy alpha between his legs and he's not going to sink his teeth into his throat — a thought which is simultaneously exacerbated and pushed aside when Dimitri sinks three fingers deep into the clench of his pussy. His eyes threaten to roll up for a moment as more of that wet, clear slick soaks the curve of the prince's fingers, and Yuri's thighs shake as he turns his head to pant against the pillow. )
D-Dimitri ... keep that up, and I'll come too soon.
( Not that "too soon" really exists when an alpha and an omega fuck: Yuri's learned from experience that it'd be more surprising if they only had one orgasm each. )
[That much, at least, he can indulge himself; he's been so good, resisting the need to bury himself to the hilt inside this willing, waiting omega, holding himself back from draping over him and nosing against his scent glands and sinking his fangs into them for a proper mating mark. He's ignoring all these things he's supposed to be doing, these things the alpha wants both from desire and as a simple matter of pride, but this at last is one that has no good reason to be taken away from him.
There are so many ways he's being prevented from demonstrating his worthiness, his dominance. He won't be held back from pleasuring his omega to within an inch of his life, to showing him firsthand what a viable, desirable mate he can be.]
I'll make you come. And then I'll lick you, so softly, until you can't help but purr for me again...
[He barely even knows what he's saying, but it feels...right. It's like half of him knows exactly what to do, what to think, what to say, and the rest of him is merely along for the ride.
He drives his fingers harder, hooking them in a curling motion each time they bury inside, and tries to keep his hand angled to bump up against Yuri's clit whenever he can.]
You'll see how well I can take care of you. You'll see...
( Yuri likes an alpha who'll talk to him. It might come as a surprise to anyone with any knowledge of his past: the lascivious prattle of nobles all but shaped his existence as he made a name for himself in Enbarr, and yet there's still something about the way those hot, honey-dipped words slide over his body to sink into his skin that never fails to make him shiver. His clit throbs at the thought of Dimitri lapping into his folds again — softly, softly — and a whine curls up from his throat as he feels himself coaxed even closer towards that edge. )
Good— hah— Dimitri, you're so good for me—
( And he is — Goddesss, he is, because his body knows exactly how to pleasure Yuri for all he claims to have never done it himself before. The crook of his fingers rub against that spot inside his pussy that makes him feel swollen and ripe and wet: the pleasure isn't the bright spark from his clit but more of a deep, coiling thing, tightening that slick channel as his breaths melt into keening moans. )
I'm gonna— please, alpha, I'm—
( Yuri's orgasm shatters through him with unexpected force. He convulses hard, his thighs shaking and his fingers curling in the sheets, and the cry it rips from him is so purely omega that it's almost embarrassing. Yuri squeezes around his fingers as his body tries to get what it wants from Dimitri — a heavy load of spend to breed him full — and his nipples ache pointlessly as he lifts his hands to try and trick his body into thinking they're being sucked.
He's pink-cheeked and glowing with sweat by the time he can form coherent thoughts again. Evidently a little dazed, Yuri gazes up at Dimitri with the kind of amused softness only a handful of others have experienced from him: )
... Sorry about the mess. Fucking an omega can get kinda messy.
( The poor Seer's going to need some new sheets after this. )
[Dimitri's face flushes with heat as, beneath his determined ministrations, Yuri shakes and wails and whines his way through his climax; even his alpha instincts, for a moment, don't mind taking a backseat to the way he just sort of stares awestruck at the fruits of his efforts: the vision beneath him, the slick clinging to his hand, the heady scent in the air.
He did this. What a dizzying thought. There's an omega beneath him, pretty and rosy and shaking-spent, and he made Yuri like this.
It's so much different to see it in person, than to hear about it in legends and secondhand stories. A touch of his own fever subsides while he processes his handiwork, and there's something of his instincts in that, too — a momentarily clear head to evaluate his efforts, to determine what must be done next to properly please and take and claim this treasure that is so obviously his.]
Oh...yes, of course. I'll take responsibility, I assure you.
[But whether he means that in a utilitarian sense or a sexier one is really anyone's guess — at least until he dutifully bends again and makes good on his promise from before, tonguing ever so gently at Yuri's flushed pink slit.]
I very much want to hold you, but...I still don't think letting myself close to your neck is a very good idea, at present.
( Yuri sucks in a sharp breath as Dimitri lowers his lips to the sensitive folds of his pussy again, before slowly beginning up unfold himself and stretch out his legs either side of the dazed-looking prince. He seems oddly vulnerable in the aftermath of his orgasm: it's a lot to deal with, Yuri supposes, especially considering it was his first time with an omega ...
His first time with anyone, Yuri reminds himself. An affectionate purr rumbles up from the back of his throat as he lets the last of the tension drain out of his body to leave him boneless. )
Mm ... yeah, I'd say you're right about that. How about you hold me around the middle, hm?
( Yuri's belly is sleek and soft, and and thin layer of softness sits below his navel that would be perfect for Dimitri to rest his cheek against. He cards his fingers through his hair again as he nudges the silk of his inner thigh against his cheek: )
Skin-to-skin feels better, you know. Might be nicer if you take off your uniform so you can feel me properly.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( ... Got him.
Yuri smiles faintly, making sure not to let any self-satisfaction creep into his expression, before sliding the side of his foot up the curve of Dimitri's calf as he fingers the side of his cup. )
I wouldn't worry about that, Dimitri.
( That smile turns reassuring. )
I mean, I've seen what your Crest can do on the battlefield. I wouldn't have brought you here tonight if I didn't think I could handle it — or if I thought it made you any less suitable for this.
( There's a moment of consideration, then: )
Have you lain with another boy before?
( While it's tempting to throw out some names — Sylvain, Dedue, perhaps even Felix — Yuri knows better than to bring up a guy's companions while easing him into the idea of sex. Besides, there's a very real possibility that invoking the Faerghan nobles would give him cold feet about the whole thing, and so instead of making guesses he contents himself with unclasping his half-cloak and draping it over the back of his chair. )
Or a girl?
( Just because the guy has 'virgin' written all over him doesn't mean that's actually the case, after all, and Yuri wants to know what he's going to be dealing with. )
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[Yuri's boot rubbing along his calf suddenly seems to draw all of his attention, yanking it away from the table and down to where there's pressure and the soft caress of his trouser leg's fabric, all interesting texture and sensation that shouldn't be gripping him as hard as they are, somehow.
Aware that he's close to a mistake, he tries to cover it by clearing his throat. It doesn't altogether work.]
In Faerghus it's custom for nobles to, ah. Witness the consummation of a marriage. I've been present. Occasionally.
[Also, he's friends with Sylvain, but that goes without saying, so he doesn't say it.]
I may not boast the experience of some, but I'm not ignorant. I'm aware of the differences, when it's a man.
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( Yuri just nods, before rising to his feet so that he can properly close and lock the door. It isn't usual for the Seer's quarters to be closed — she makes a point of always being available to those who need help in matters they can't bring to the Goddess — but every now and then, when Yuri as a lot of money riding on a tryst and he loses a bickering match with Balthus ... )
You nobles and your customs.
( He sighs, but there's amusement sparkling in his eyes as he approaches the table again. There's a bed tucked against the other side of the room, plush with mismatched pillows and gauzy drapery that some people might find inviting. In Yuri's opinion, it's a bit much, but then his own bed is a comfortable nest of Balthus's cast-offs and worn, threadbare blankets.
He isn't really in any position to be criticising someone else's sleeping space. )
Anyway, luckily for you? Boasters don't really do it for me.
( He teases, extending a palm for Dimitri to take so that he can help him to his feet. Yuri might be older but the prince is already a good few inches taller than him — something the omega in him silently appreciates as he moves to unfasten the front of his uniform. Beneath it, Yuri wears a thin ivory shirt tucked into the high waist of his pants; it's a little sheer in the low light, and pink nipples are just visible beneath the fabric as he tosses the dark outer layer to the floor. )
Why don't you take a seat on the bed, hm?
( A hand lifts to cup Dimitri's cheek with an easy smirk. )
And I'll show you what you're getting yourself into.
( Ba-dun-tshhh. )
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[And that may well be the first non-anxious thing he's said since he made his way down into Abyss. The hurdle, it seems, had been getting him past his own hangups and misgivings; once surmounted, he's far more amenable to going along with Yuri's flow and seeing where it leads him.
(He hadn't noticed the bed at first, truthfully. Now, as he's led toward it, he isn't altogether sure how he could've missed it.)
But he lets Yuri guide him, amicable almost to the point of being properly called pliant, and when he settles down on the bed, he's thankfully less rigid than he was at tea — his knees slightly spread instead of jammed tightly together, his spine relaxed, his arms resting on the tops of his legs.]
May I touch you?
[He's so polite, this future king.]
Or — no. No, of course you should lead. I'm sorry; but please direct me as you see fit.
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( Yuri closes the distance between them to the point where he's within touching distance - but Dimitri probably knows better than to think this means he's going to get whatbhe wants right away. That cute polite streak of his ... Yuri can't help but want to put it to the test, just to see if there's more to the prince than the sense of propriety he's clinging on to even now. )
No touching yet.
( He confirms, his eyes on Dimitri as he pulls the shirt from where it's tucked into his trousers. A moment later sees it unfastened, peeled away, discarded, before Yuri toes his way out of his boots and stocking to leave him standing there in just his trousers. )
... I may have been a little creative with the truth, regarding what I said earlier.
( He confesses - giving a very good impression of someone who's genuinely apologetic. Yuri's fingers skim over the fastenings of his trousers before popping them open and pushing them down, revealing soft, bare hips, gently rounded, between which sits the neatly waxed vee of his pussy.
Yuri is an omega. )
Still a man's parts, but an omega man's parts.
( He says wryly, placing one hand on his hip as he cocks it to let Dimitri look his fill. )
Don't get yourself all worked up about it, though, Handsome. You're not gonna take me there.
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And — there, finally, Yuri stands bared before him, and honestly with the way Yuri leads his house and his battalions, Dimitri had sort of had him pegged as another alpha himself, so this comes as an unexpected revelation. He has to make himself swallow back the twinge of instinct that flutters in his gut, his alpha instincts stirred out of dormancy by the sight and scent of an omega's soft curves close enough to touch, close enough to lean forward and lick...
But the last thing he wants is for Yuri to consider him a brute of an alpha, himself. He's the heir to the throne of Faerghus, he knows how to control himself. He won't lose his manners. He'll behave.]
I see I'll have to be on my guard around your silver tongue.
[Speaking of tongues, he swallows again, trying not to scent or lean forward or act out.]
I understand, but perhaps I could...kiss you?
[Lord's kisses, they called it in the stories of Loog and Kyphon. The proper way for any alpha to treat an omega, putting their mouth and tongue to pleasurable use.]
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( Yuri watches realisation melt over Dimitri's expression with an amused kind of patience, and later he'll fancy he could pinpoint the precise moment the alpha in him recognises what it's seeing. Visually, certainly, but Yuri isn't so far removed from his own biology that he doesn't feel the pull too — a deep, preening satisfaction of being in the presence of an alpha.
His pussy throbs. )
You'd put your mouth on me?
( Balthus does that for him — very enthusiastically, too — but he hadn't necessarily expected that Dimitri might want to do the same. Then again, if he was taught the ins and outs of alpha-omega behaviour from those old Faerghan fairy-tales ... )
I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.
( Yuri steps closer, his thighs perhaps more plump and inviting than the long cut of his uniform would suggest. Two fingers press gently beneath Dimitri's chin to coax him into looking up at him properly: )
Take your gloves off for me, hm? Then you can touch.
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But this — this rouses an entirely new instinct in him. He knows it the instant Yuri's bare pussy twinges, knows it on an instinctual level he can't even begin to try to describe. He knows it because he's genetically programmed to be attuned to it, a biological imperative to assert strength and claim and mate.
And that rattles him a little. It's hard enough keeping his own demons in check, without the added recklessness of having a lovely soft omega standing in front of him, inviting him, tempting him toward choices he's supposed to know better than to indulge.]
Oh — yes. Yes, the gloves, of course.
[It's a distraction, a point to focus on, but it doesn't last him for long. He releases the fastenings and begins to tug his gauntlets off, neatly setting them aside, but his involuntary reactions are already threatening to bubble up and expose themselves.
When he finally looks back, his hands bared and his gloves tucked away, he can't hold himself back anymore. Not entirely. Not enough.
Deep, deep in the back of his throat, he rumbles a faint and interested purr. In its way, it's the aural equivalent of a wink or a nod thrown across a crowded room, an attention-seeking noise keyed to solicit a reaction. It's a sound he's never made before; he's never had reason to. It's not a noise that alphas make at other alphas.
He can't look away — and couldn't, even without the fingers beneath his chin. Helpless to stop himself, it spills out again — rich and thick and deep, hello, have you noticed me? you should.]
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( Yuri knows that sound — but Seiros, is it ever sweeter when it's coming form Dimitri. In truth he's a little surprised by how much that rumble effects him — there have been plenty of instances in which an alpha has tried to get his attention and he's brushed it off with easy disinterest — and yet there's something about the openness of his gaze, the rich sound of the purr ...
He's noticed him. The whole reason they're even here is because Yuri has noticed him — and that soft sound stirs at those omega urges he goes to lengths to hide behind closed doors. In truth he doesn't mind the people he has sex with knowing what he is — he certainly isn't ashamed it, much as certain echelons of society might sometimes prefer him to be — but more than anything else?
It's not good business to be outed as an omega when you're running an underground gang. Better to keep it to moments like this, when Yuri can put himself on his hands and knees and present to an alpha without having to worry about appearances.
His own purr is pitched a little higher than Dimitri's. It's a soft, inviting response of yes, I've noticed you, and I've chosen you, and Yuri exhales softly through his mouth as he begins to pick up the thick warmth of the prince's scent. For all he's working hard to remain in control here there's nothing quite like the aroma of a wanting alpha, and Yuri swallows hard as his hands skim up his torso to cup the just-barely soft flesh surrounding hard, pink nipples. )
D'you want to see?
( He doesn't wait for an answer. Yuri slides onto the bed and shifts so he's laying back against the decorative pillows, his thighs parted and a knee bent to coax Dimitri's attention to the hot pink slit between his legs. It's plump and soft, slightly damp with arousal as his body reacts to his proximity to Dimitri, and it's waxed smooth but for a pretty strip of violet hair. )
Just being around you makes me feel good, you know.
( He murmurs — and honestly, too, before letting another purr roll between them as he opens his legs a little wider. )
Do you feel good too?
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Dimitri knows that Yuri is in front of him, unclothed, experienced well beyond his own measure. The alpha in him sees it the opposite way, perceiving only a lithe and supple omega signaling its own desires, waiting for him to do as both their natures direct.
He tries to remind himself that it's Dimitri who needs to keep the upper hand, here. It's Dimitri who has a reputation to protect. Dimitri who has to walk back out of this encounter and go about the rest of his life.
The alpha has no such concerns. It merely wants what it's already decided it's entitled to.]
Seeing doesn't even come close to what I want.
[It's like someone else said it, someone else with a dark and gravelly voice, rich with desire.]
I...m-my apologies. I'm keeping you waiting.
[He slides a little closer along the mattress, edging near enough that he can reach out with his bare hand and curve it behind Yuri's raised knee, slowly and almost respectfully leaning in to touch a kiss to the inside of his thigh.
He needs to go slowly, he reminds himself. Slowly and carefully, and stay in control.]
Your scent is very pretty.
[He risks another kiss, then another, slowly working his way up Yuri's leg toward the tantalizing heat waiting for him.]
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( Ah.
That voice.
Yuri has caught glimpses of that version of Dimitri as he's cut a path through the battlefield; he's seen the wildfire in his eyes, the depth of his need for blood, and he feels his clit jump in response to that rough tone that fills the space between them.
The omega in him laments the moment Dimitri's sense of propriety kicks in a moment later and squashes that part of himself back down — but it's too late for him to try to get away with it. His pussy is wet, slick and glossy from the low rumble of Dimitri's words, and Yuri has to let his eyes slide shut for a moment or two so that he can gather himself again. )
... Mm. You think so? Constance makes me a tonic that helps make it less strong ... y'know, keeping up with appearances, that whole thing.
( There's a reason Dimitri had pegged Yuri as an alpha, after all, and he's needed a little help in making sure that's how he's perceived. It isn't surprising that the prince can detect his true scent now — he's laying in front of him with his legs spread, for Serios' sake — but it'd be even prettier if Yuri weren't going to all the effort of keeping it as muted as possible.
The line of kisses winding its way up Yuri's thigh makes it hard to focus on such things. His teeth skim over a plump lower lip as he props himself up on a bent elbow: )
A Lord's kiss from the prince of Faerghus ...
( Dimitri isn't the only one who's up on his raunchy lore. A playful smile touches Yuri's lips as he strokes his fingers through gold-spun hair with his free hand: )
You're gonna make me the envy of every omega this side of Sreng.
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[He edges closer with another kiss, closer still, taking his time but also carefully working up his nerve; what he's about to do, he's going to attempt based purely on instinct and the stories he's heard all his life, and one or two in-person demonstrations viewed from far away and behind the tasteful obstruction of a gauzy curtain. Perhaps he has no talents, and Yuri's talk of envy is premature; still, both sides of him want to try, the prince to live up to the legend they're spinning out between them, and the alpha out of simpler pressing desire to claim the omega before him in whatever way he can.
But all Yuri's reactions are positive ones, and help his confidence along. It feels nice to have his hair caressed, to be close enough to catch his scent from behind the blockers. It's a pity he won't be able to taste him, defective alpha that he is. He already looks so wet and inviting.
So he moves at last, lips parting faintly as he does finally bring them to touch Yuri's slit in a perfect imitation of a kiss — pressure first, then a tip of his chin and a brush of his tongue, then again and deeper before the first one has even really concluded, the flat of his tongue parting the slick folds as it drags past them, slow and winding wet itself.]
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( There's a tremulous quality to the sigh that leaves Yuri when Dimitri finally puts his mouth on him; the sweet pressure of lips that tilts into to something more as he explores the idea of a real, true kiss. His thigh twitches as he does his best to keep his hips still for the young prince: he's new to this, he reminds himself, and there's a darkness to this alpha that Balthus doesn't share ...
It could make him unpredictable, and pushing too hard during such a moment could have frustrating consequences. )
... Just like that.
( He praises him, unable to keep the syrup-softness from his voice as his omega nature begins to truly take hold. It's always like this when he fucks an alpha: Yuri can play at being in charge until lips, cock, or fingers find his pussy, at which point he slowly begins to unravel until he's a keening mess of want.
The fact that it's happening a little more quickly than usual? Well. That passes him by entirely.
Yuri sinks back against the pillows as he bends his knees to frame Dimitri's head between this thighs. It always feels so good to give in to this part of himself — to let an alpha worship the petal-soft folds that make him different — and he tilts his hips up towards him in offering as he resists squirming against the sheets. Violet eyeshadow catches the light his eyes slip closed for a moment, another of those tender purrs rumbling up from the very back of his throat. )
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[He mumbles his approval, eyes half-lidded, as he continues to tongue and kiss between Yuri's legs; it aches to be deprived the chance to taste the slick he knows is collecting on his tongue, but between the scent and the noises that Yuri is making, there's still plenty to get lost in. His bare hands, free of their gauntlets, move to rest against the outsides of Yuri's thighs, holding his legs with possessiveness when they close in around his head, and it occurs to him that some part of this was supposed to be about blowing off steam but the only satisfaction he really wants right now is every new purr that spills from Yuri's lips, acknowledging the alpha in his midst.
He licks more firmly as his confidence grows, less testing and more in pursuit of results; his own heady scent is starting to fill the air around them, thick with Faerghian forest smells of snow and fur and firesmoke. When he finds Yuri's clit, it's mostly by accident, first with the flat of his tongue on a long upstroke, and then circling more curiously with the tip as he acquaints himself with it.]
Are you still so sure you don't want me to take you here...?
[His voice has gone dark again, edged with possessiveness and desire.]
Your body says otherwise. It knows what it was made for.
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( Yuri's own honey-warm aroma rolls from him in waves as the heady scent of Dimitri's arousal swells between them, seeming to soak into every pore and stir those bone-deep urges into a slightly more desperate state. When the questing lap of his tongue finds the nub of his clit he finds himself thrown into a violent shiver: )
Ah—!
( As his pussy clenches and aches for something big, something thick, to sink inside and make him feel better.
He lays there reeling for a moment as the little aftershocks of pleasure ripple through him. There's part of him that's all but preening at his being the first clit Dimitri has licked: more slick wets his folds as his gaze drags over hot blue eyes, damp lips, the press of fingertips into his thighs, and he finds himself momentarily (thrillingly) locked into place as the dark edge to his voice cuts through the hazy quiet. )
... My body doesn't know what's best for us.
( He breathes — for all it physically aches to go against his nature like this. Denying an alpha his pussy feels wrong on a fundamental level — like a rejection of everything that makes them who they are — and he has to screw his eyes tightly shut for a long moment in an attempt to better arrange his thoughts. )
And I promised you I wouldn't pop a kid out nine months down the line.
( It's a slightly strained attempt at levity, but Yuri's smile is slanting and genuine. )
Still ...
( He raises an eyebrow. )
You could take me with your fingers instead? While you kiss me.
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— until Yuri's reminder of heirs snaps like a bowstring against his hazy mind, and his eyes widen as for an instant, the heady fog of arousal clears back into sharp, uncertain clarity.
Right. Right. It would be — disastrous, a scandal, to say nothing of the fact that it would be utterly inhumane to burden Yuri with a child that certainly he doesn't want to begin with. No, he's got to be better than this. No, he's got to stay in control.
Even if the alpha in him hates it. Even if the alpha roars at his weakness, his cowardice at holding himself back from fucking and knotting this delicious morsel of an omega like he's supposed to.]
R-Right, of course. I meant — only that I'm glad you're enjoying it. That's what I meant.
[He breaks away briefly to kiss the inside of Yuri's thigh again, grasping for control of himself, and when he returns he brings one of his hands with him, letting his fingers stroke up and down through Yuri's slick for a minute in place of his tongue.]
I would hate for you to find me an unsatisfactory bedmate.
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( Yuri swears he feels the moment that rational thought bursts through the dreamy haze of their shared arousal, and for a moment he finds himself absolutely despising himself for being the one to cool the moment. His stomach twists up into a tight knot as the omega shrieks and shudders for him to take it back — but he doesn't, but he can't, if only because that path might ruin this forever. )
Believe me, Dimitri ...
( And this time when he speaks he sounds ever so slightly hoarse with want. )
There's nothing unsatisfactory about being with you.
( A hand reaches for that golden head again so he can soothe his fingers through his hair, his expression unusually open for someone Dimitri might know for holding his secrets close to his chest. There's only so much Yuri can do to hide his emotions when he's like this: he'd irritably describe it as alphas simply having a way of laying siege to his defences, but in truth?
It's the omega in him, leaving the gates wide open as it aches to be wholly conquered. )
So don't worry, hm? You've already proven you can please me.
( His slick pussy, throbbing clit, and the scent hanging between them should be testament enough to that, but just in case Dimitri needs the extra encouragement? Yuri rolls his hips down towards his fingers, which presses the tips into the slick heat of him on a keening little gasp. )
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He sighs, shivering all over from the satisfaction of it, disproportionately pleased by such simple praise. He's not unsatisfactory. He's pleasing his partner. He's enough.
For once, he's finally enough.]
Then I will do everything I can to continue on as I have been.
[His fingertips penetrate into Yuri's heat, and the sound of his gasp brings a notion to Dimitri's mind; carefully, he rearranges his hand's position, hooking two fingers inside while the heel of his hand rides up to bump against Yuri's clit. It's not the same as a proper cock, not by any means, but he tries to create the illusion of it anyway, imitating a slow thrust or two while he watches Yuri's face for a reaction.]
You're...you're hot inside...
[He whispers under his breath, like it's a revelation.]
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( Yuri would chuckle at Dimitri's near-stunned comment if not for the deep, slow of those fingers inside him. Perhaps he hadn't necessarily realise just how ready he was to have something pressing at him from the inside: a hot flush of pink settles across his cheekbones as he sinks back against the pillows for a moment, his breath leaving him in a panting groan as the pad of his hand rubs up against his clit. )
H-Hah ...
( Dimitri might not have the experience of his other some-time lovers but he's still an alpha - he can still work on instinct - and as his hand moves against him Yuri finds himself tipping his head back to bare the tender-soft front of his throat )
That's a good thing, right?
( There's a breathless little chuckle in his reply if only because the implications should be obvious: if he weren't hot inside, Dimitri would have a lot more to work about than whether or not it matters that he's he's omega. Instinct has him curling his hands against the backs of his knees to pull his thighs up to his chest, exposing himself utterly to the curious nature of the alpha between his legs. )
... You can go harder than that if you want.
( There's a beat, and then because in his hormone-addled haze it seems natural enough to say it: )
Please, alpha. Just a little harder.
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Of course, his instincts don't like that one bit, but he can't surrender to them. He can't.
He wants to.
He can't.]
Yuri, put. Put your head down.
[He runs his tongue over his lip reflexively, then makes himself bite down on it more deliberately, his eyes locked on that supple column of skin bared so prettily for him, offered to him. It would be so easy to lean up and bite it, to make it so that any other alpha who comes across Yuri knows he's not up for the taking.
He can't.
He squeezes his eyes shut a moment, tries to focus. Harder, harder with his fingers. That, he can do, and it will appease some of the rising alpha in him. He's made to give an omega what it wants, just as an omega is made to take him.]
Don't give me your neck, I want it too much...
[To go harder, he needs a little more leverage; he moves, shifting his position so that he's leaning more directly over Yuri's body, helping to press his legs back and out while he works a third finger into him and barely leaves time to adjust before pushing all three of them deeper than before.
Unable to help himself, he starts to growl again, that low and rumbling purr that originates deep in his throat, that instinctual wordless sound that croons approval and asks submission. Good omega. Pretty omega. His omega.
For a little while, at least.]
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( It takes a long moment for Dimitri's strained request to filter through the fog of Yuri's arousal. In truth he's finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself focused on the task at hand: he'd gone into this with every intention of sticking to his plan, but now here he is, on his back with his legs bent and his throat bared for a bite. He pulls in a shaky gasp before returning his head to a more relaxed, natural position, his pupils wide and dark as he looks down his body to where Dimitri is shifting up between his legs. )
Ah— ... sorry about that, Handsome.
( Slender fingers rake trough the lilac mess of his own hair in an attempt to ground himself in a new sensation. The smile he tosses at Dimitri is playfully self-deprecating: )
Seems like I forgot myself just a little.
( But there's a breathless waver in his voice — one that suggests he can feel the alpha's displeasure as it rages against Dimitri's self control, and that his own body is equally as desperate for them to give in to what they need.
This isn't right.
It isn't right — there's a worthy alpha between his legs and he's not going to sink his teeth into his throat — a thought which is simultaneously exacerbated and pushed aside when Dimitri sinks three fingers deep into the clench of his pussy. His eyes threaten to roll up for a moment as more of that wet, clear slick soaks the curve of the prince's fingers, and Yuri's thighs shake as he turns his head to pant against the pillow. )
D-Dimitri ... keep that up, and I'll come too soon.
( Not that "too soon" really exists when an alpha and an omega fuck: Yuri's learned from experience that it'd be more surprising if they only had one orgasm each. )
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[That much, at least, he can indulge himself; he's been so good, resisting the need to bury himself to the hilt inside this willing, waiting omega, holding himself back from draping over him and nosing against his scent glands and sinking his fangs into them for a proper mating mark. He's ignoring all these things he's supposed to be doing, these things the alpha wants both from desire and as a simple matter of pride, but this at last is one that has no good reason to be taken away from him.
There are so many ways he's being prevented from demonstrating his worthiness, his dominance. He won't be held back from pleasuring his omega to within an inch of his life, to showing him firsthand what a viable, desirable mate he can be.]
I'll make you come. And then I'll lick you, so softly, until you can't help but purr for me again...
[He barely even knows what he's saying, but it feels...right. It's like half of him knows exactly what to do, what to think, what to say, and the rest of him is merely along for the ride.
He drives his fingers harder, hooking them in a curling motion each time they bury inside, and tries to keep his hand angled to bump up against Yuri's clit whenever he can.]
You'll see how well I can take care of you. You'll see...
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( Yuri likes an alpha who'll talk to him. It might come as a surprise to anyone with any knowledge of his past: the lascivious prattle of nobles all but shaped his existence as he made a name for himself in Enbarr, and yet there's still something about the way those hot, honey-dipped words slide over his body to sink into his skin that never fails to make him shiver. His clit throbs at the thought of Dimitri lapping into his folds again — softly, softly — and a whine curls up from his throat as he feels himself coaxed even closer towards that edge. )
Good— hah— Dimitri, you're so good for me—
( And he is — Goddesss, he is, because his body knows exactly how to pleasure Yuri for all he claims to have never done it himself before. The crook of his fingers rub against that spot inside his pussy that makes him feel swollen and ripe and wet: the pleasure isn't the bright spark from his clit but more of a deep, coiling thing, tightening that slick channel as his breaths melt into keening moans. )
I'm gonna— please, alpha, I'm—
( Yuri's orgasm shatters through him with unexpected force. He convulses hard, his thighs shaking and his fingers curling in the sheets, and the cry it rips from him is so purely omega that it's almost embarrassing. Yuri squeezes around his fingers as his body tries to get what it wants from Dimitri — a heavy load of spend to breed him full — and his nipples ache pointlessly as he lifts his hands to try and trick his body into thinking they're being sucked.
He's pink-cheeked and glowing with sweat by the time he can form coherent thoughts again. Evidently a little dazed, Yuri gazes up at Dimitri with the kind of amused softness only a handful of others have experienced from him: )
... Sorry about the mess. Fucking an omega can get kinda messy.
( The poor Seer's going to need some new sheets after this. )
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He did this. What a dizzying thought. There's an omega beneath him, pretty and rosy and shaking-spent, and he made Yuri like this.
It's so much different to see it in person, than to hear about it in legends and secondhand stories. A touch of his own fever subsides while he processes his handiwork, and there's something of his instincts in that, too — a momentarily clear head to evaluate his efforts, to determine what must be done next to properly please and take and claim this treasure that is so obviously his.]
Oh...yes, of course. I'll take responsibility, I assure you.
[But whether he means that in a utilitarian sense or a sexier one is really anyone's guess — at least until he dutifully bends again and makes good on his promise from before, tonguing ever so gently at Yuri's flushed pink slit.]
I very much want to hold you, but...I still don't think letting myself close to your neck is a very good idea, at present.
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( Yuri sucks in a sharp breath as Dimitri lowers his lips to the sensitive folds of his pussy again, before slowly beginning up unfold himself and stretch out his legs either side of the dazed-looking prince. He seems oddly vulnerable in the aftermath of his orgasm: it's a lot to deal with, Yuri supposes, especially considering it was his first time with an omega ...
His first time with anyone, Yuri reminds himself. An affectionate purr rumbles up from the back of his throat as he lets the last of the tension drain out of his body to leave him boneless. )
Mm ... yeah, I'd say you're right about that. How about you hold me around the middle, hm?
( Yuri's belly is sleek and soft, and and thin layer of softness sits below his navel that would be perfect for Dimitri to rest his cheek against. He cards his fingers through his hair again as he nudges the silk of his inner thigh against his cheek: )
Skin-to-skin feels better, you know. Might be nicer if you take off your uniform so you can feel me properly.
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