( Later on, Yuri will try to deny to himself that he actually felt the moment in which Dimitri's upset shifted to elation. He'll deny the way it stirred a bone-deep pleasure of his own, the way it made the Omega in him purr in knowing it had found its place, and that pulling his knees up to his chest to hug Dimitri's waist was complete and utter instinct.
The Alpha wins out, and so too does the Omega.
On his back, it's much harder to pretend that the rational part of his mind is in control. Yes, there's that niggling thought that he's doing this for reasons beyond pleasure and procreation - but such matters seem completely and utterly diminished beneath the burning radiance of the Alpha above him. Dimitri looks like a gift from the goddess - a perfect mate wrought into being just for him - and Yuri licks into his mouth with a ragged groan as he begins to move atop him.
It's almost - almost - as good as being taken. Yuri wraps his legs over Dimitri's hips as he grinds his cock over the slick mess of his slit: he's swollen and tender, and white-hot pleasure pulses through his body with each pass over his clit, to the point where he finds himself squirming both towards and away from the intensity of the feeling. )
Dimitri ...
( The word is ever so slightly slurred, affected as he is by the wash of Dimitri's pheromones, his own hormones, and the exquisite promise of deeper pleasure. )
Dima, please.
( He barely notices the over-familiar slip of his name - he's too busy trying to remember to hitch himself up just enough that Dimitri will sink into the right entrance. The fact that he isn't trying especially hard? Well. The ramifications of that remain to be seen. )
[It's better like this, so much better like this. It's true that having Yuri squirming and writhing on top of him had been an unparalleled experience, but this is what all his instincts have been craving: his omega, defended, safe beneath the shield of his body and so drunk on his scent that even a tongue as silver-sharp as Yuri's has gone dull and dreamy.
He chases kiss after kiss until he can't bear to kiss him any longer, not from a lack of desire but from a sort of urgent anxiety at the thought that he's neglecting all the rest of Yuri from kissing him so much. When it becomes too much, he breaks away from Yuri's mouth and sucks wetly on his lower lip instead, kissing and licking across his jaw to settle in snugly against his neck.
And yet even with all his instincts raging, when he finally does let himself nuzzle up against the scent glands on Yuri's neck, the compulsion to bite ebbs away in the face of wanting to reassure him instead. His omega is begging for him, squirming and writhing so prettily beneath him, and so he nuzzles soothingly right at the source of his intoxicating scent, marking on top of it with his own.]
You have me. Hush, shhh. I'll give you what you need.
[Not that he really wants Yuri to quiet, by any means. It just feels right to do it, to purr in his ear and remind him what the presence of an alpha means to a needy omega, how it assures him of safety and satisfaction and pleasure all at once.
He drags his hands down Yuri's sides, over his hips, beneath his thighs. It would be wiser if he would take himself in hand, find the right place, line himself up — but that would mean stalling in his grinding rhythm, even for a second, and he's far, far too gone for that.
So he lifts Yuri a touch, shifts the angle of his own hips, and grinds smooth and firm until he feels his tip catch somewhere warm and wet, and this time he seizes onto it, pulls Yuri an inch forward onto him properly, before pressing his weight forward and starting to sink inside.
Even as he's sliding in, the thought twinges that he's been disobedient. That he's claimed a place he wasn't supposed to.
But how could he not be supposed to? He's an alpha, and Yuri's pussy is so warm and slick inside, so inviting in the way it accommodates even his own hefty girth. This is what he was made for, what Yuri was made for — so how, how could it not be precisely where he's supposed to be?
To test the waters, to reassure himself, he rumbles a low laugh.]
( Dimitri might not want him to be quiet, but the effect of his nuzzling and soothing is immediate. Yuri's squirming slows as he lets his head drop back to offer the smooth skin of his throat to his alpha, eagerly soaking up the prince's scent, the rumble of his purr, the perfect weight of him keeping him caught between his body and the mattress.
His own scent floods with satisfaction as he slides his palms down Dimitri's back. The self-imposed rules he laid down before they started this seem harder and harder to visualise in his mind; it's usually an effort to remain sensible with an alpha, sure, but there's something about Dimitri which is making it even more of a struggle than usual - something he can't pinpoint in the moment and won't be able to explain after the fact.
It doesn't seem to matter much, anyway. All he cares about is that grind, that rub, the sweet moment the head of his cock catches and pushes and begins to sink in, which has him opening his thighs a little wider to help guide him deep inside. )
Yeah—
( And maybe Dimitri has been disobedient, but Yuri can't bring himself to care. He clings on to him tightly as his cock stretches out the tight silk of his pussy, slick-hot and wet with need as the omega finally, finally gets what it wants. )
So much better ... s-so good for me ...
( Nodding through the daze, Yuri smears his lips against Dimitri's throat and jaw as he tilts his hips up to help him slide home. It's been so long since he let someone fuck him like this — Balthus is the only alpha who's had the pleasure before — but all thoughts of Constance's moon tea seem far away as he pulls the other boy in for a breathless kiss. )
[An eerie calmness settles around Dimitri's alpha-mad mind like a descending fog once he's begun to bury himself inside of Yuri, and it's not that he's thinking with any more clarity than before — just that some of the frenzy has settled now that he's accomplished the goal his instincts had been spurring him on toward all this time. No more games, no more teasing, no more restraint or pretenses of self-denial. They never really wanted to deny each other or themselves, did they? That was all just fluff and circumstance, easily discarded now that they've both found where they belong.
He's never had an omega before. He's seen them be mated, yes; he's stood to the side and watched, both for his own education as a royal and to bear witness to another noble's consummation. But Yuri is his now, his first, and he can't fathom in that moment how any other omega could possibly prove more enticing than the one he's claimed right here and now.
Their scents are mingling. He noses against Yuri's neck and can smell himself there, faintly over top of Yuri's much stronger, cloying scent. There's no need to bite, not right now; he's not one of those boarish alphas who can't keep their teeth to themselves, after all.
No, he's not. He's not the boar Felix calls him. This is right, it's good. It couldn't possibly feel so good if it wasn't right.]
I promised that you would bloom, didn't I...
[He slants his mouth against Yuri's, kisses him wet and messy and open. He doesn't just rock his hips back and thrust, either — no, no, he's a considerate alpha, he makes small circles with his hips and grinds himself inside Yuri in little shudders and shivers, warming him up and letting him keep his alpha's cock inside him a little longer at first.]
What do you think of Faerghus now...? Would you go without it?
[As if to punctuate his thought, he draws his hips back slowly, letting Yuri feel every inch of his absence as he slides out again until just the tip of him is left buried inside.]
( Yuri certainly feels like he's blooming. He feels opened up in every sense of the word — not just the petal-pink wetness surrounding Dimitri's cock, but his throat, his chest, his very essence as an Omega seems prised open and shining for the Alpha above him. )
N-No ...
( He was full — so full when Dimitri shimmied and swirled his way inside him. He'd felt stretched and ripe and ready for his knot almost immediately — ready to be fucked until it felt like he'd never have to be without him.
Now, with little more than the tip of his cock dipping inside the wet clench of his hole, Yuri finds himself panting raggedly as he tries to maintain some sense of composure while he quivers there beneath him. )
No, please — Faerghus has everything I could want, everything I could need—
( Saints, but he'll be kicking himself later for begging so easily. Kiss bruised lips hang open for a moment as he squeezes two handfuls of Dimitri's ass, caught between letting the Alpha teach him this lesson and pulling him in close again. Surely if he's good he'll get what he needs, won't he? Dimitri wouldn't leave him dripping and empty just to make a point? Yuri bites at his own lower lip before leaning up to lick at the prince's mouth: )
If you take me now I'll bloom for you — only for you.
[It strikes him, out of nowhere, that in all the time since he'd come down to Abyss, he's barely said Yuri's name. Certainly it's far out of proportion to the number of times and ways Yuri has called him by name, in return; even now, that aching whine of Dima still rings in his ears, settled pleasant beneath his skin. Is it because he didn't dare? Because it runs the risk of grounding him in a reality that the rest of this feels like an escape from?
Yurochka, he thinks from within the safety of his own mind, testing the sounds without ever letting them get close to his lips, and wonders.]
Everything you need is right here.
[He bends into Yuri's attentions, lips parting to let him lick as he likes, and pushes solidly back into him. The sensation of sliding home feels just as rich the second time as it did the first, but this time he doesn't linger once he's hilted; he wants to knot, and to make his omega slick with his own spend, and beneath Yuri's grasping fingers the muscles in his ass flex as he starts to find a brisk, deep-hitting rhythm.
As he thrusts, he's carefully watching Yuri's face and body, listening for his noises, breathing the flavor of his scent. He's scrupulously marking what seems to please him best, and what gets a reaction or doesn't; there should be something inside, he thinks, that makes him feel extra good — so Sylvain would have him believe, anyway — and he makes gradual adjustments to his angle, intent on trying to find it.]
( Dimitri pushes back in, and the groan that spills from Yuri's lips is one that's risen from the deepest recesses of his chest. It's a rich, velvet-soft sound that wavers with each thrust; his lashes slide closed and his jaw slackens as he's deeply, soundly fucked.
It's Dimitri's first time, but he handles Yuri's body as though it was made for him. It's Dimitri's first time but already he's testing and teasing, searching for ways to make Yuri fall apart underneath him, and Yuri realises vaguely that he isn't going to need to ask him to touch his clit to make him come this time.
Already, it's building deep inside the heat of his pussy. Dimitri angles himself just so and a full-body shiver tears through Yuri, the slick heat of him spasming and clenching around the stretch of his cock as he grinds over that spot just a little way inside. When he's able to uncoil just a fraction it's with a breathless sigh — almost a sob — and his nails drag red welts across Dimitri's ass as he claws and struggles to make him fuck harder. )
There— ah— fuck, fuck me there—
( Balthus has made him come from the inside before with rough pumps from his clever fingers; "precision work", Yuri likes to tease, to make him squeeze and gush and ruin the sheets with his orgasm. Feeling the same deep ripple of muscle around Dimitri's cock is as startling as it is euphoric — but then perhaps he shouldn't have expected any less of this determined little prince.
Yuri brings a hand up to pull him down for a messy kiss. Their scents have long since melted together into one heady, perfect aroma, and Yuri slips his tongue into Dimitri's mouth with the leisurely ease of someone drunk on their shared scent. Sharp nails claw over Dimitri's hip as his free hand moves up to the headboard to keep himself braced against it: )
I'm gonna— you're gonna make me come, please, please—
( Dewy with sweat and flushed a deep pink, Yuri feels his toes curl as another bone-deep spasm of pleasure pulses through his pussy. He feels like he's going to burst — like if Dimitri pulled out, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from coming in a great mess — and so he urges him in deeper with a tilt of his hips and a smear of his lips against his jaw. )
Want it ... give me your knot.
( His teeth scrape against his earlobe, delirious with pleasure as he moans on each slick pump. )
[It's like the whole world has narrowed down to nothing but Yuri beneath him. There are no haunting voices making agonized demands in his ears, no regrets, no expectations to hang over his head. There's nothing except the hot clutch of Yuri's pussy around him, nothing but the way Yuri trembles and yowls when something he does pleases him particularly well. It's just the two of them, and the musk of their scents cloying in the air, and the sweat beginning to bead on their skin from the exertion of their...
Does he dare call it lovemaking? Rutting might be a more accurate word, but Yuri deserves better. Yuri deserves to be treasured, gorgeous sweet thing that he is, and Dimitri is going to make sure of it, going to spoil him until he's boneless and sated from the pleasure he's been given.
Of course, his own has been building all this time, as well; he can feel the vaguely familiar twinge of his knot threatening to swell, promising a terrible ache if he doesn't sate it with pressure and heat. It's a duller companion to the sharp, intoxicating pain of the gouges Yuri's nails leave in his skin, and he relishes them both as his hips continue their driving rhythm.]
Yes...yes, I will, it's yours, yours...
[There's a howl building in the back of his throat, choking him from trying to keep it swallowed back; he settles back into the right angle to pound against Yuri's sweet spot inside again and again, his knot pushing up against Yuri's pink slit until finally, finally, he snarls and claws the bedsheets and forces the thick swell of it inside.
It locks him in, and there's no helping it; he couldn't pull out now even if he tried, not without excruciating pain, and the knot does its evolutionary work by keeping them tied while his climax takes him, emptying his seed inside the hot channel where he's buried. He's spent himself before, of course, but never quite like this; even knotted, his hips continue to roll shallowly, grinding his knot against Yuri's inner walls, stimulating himself to draw out the high as he fills Yuri with his spend.
As he should be, he thinks, unbidden and wild. He should be full. He was made to be.]
( Yuri's breath tightens in his throat as he feels Dimitri bearing down against him with new intent: his knot is a thick, hot pressure against the wet of his pussy as it grinds over his slit, and he bends one thigh back to his chest instinctively as his body gives itself to Dimitri entirely.
It's his.
Dimitri is his — and Yuri's back pulls into a tight arch as his fingers grip tighter to pull him in the rest of the way.
His lashes flutter closed, his eyes rolling up as Dimitri's knot finally sinks inside the clench of him. The sound that escapes him is caught somewhere between a gasp and a breathless sob — but then he's coming harder than he remembers in a long, long time.
It's like falling apart and being remade whole in the same exquisite moment. The hand at the headboard sinks into Dimitri's hair to crush their lips together again: it's a hard, messy kiss, with too much tongue and too much teeth, but Yuri's whimper is nothing but raw pleasure as he licks into his Alpha's mouth. He can feel Dimitri coming — can feel each pulse of hot spend as he fucks it into him — and he squirms minutely beneath him as the Omega purrs at finally, finally being used as he was meant to be. )
... Mine.
( He manages, his breath a thready whisper as he nuzzles the damp tips of their noses together. )
[No one ever taught him that it would feel like this. Even the handful of consummations he'd watched before — the partners in them never looked as euphoric as Yuri does in that moment, and Dimitri certainly can't remember any of them seeming as elated as he feels. There's something profoundly reassuring about staying tied to his omega, even once the frenzy of their fucking has waned; to his mild surprise, he really rather likes the way it feels to just drape over Yuri as they wind down, his hips still making shallow grinding circles to keep his knot stimulated and thick for as long as he can.
He has to, his unspoken instincts demand. He has to stay this way, or his mate won't catch. This is how a good mating is ensured, by staying locked together for as long as possible afterward.
Later, he'll realize with horror what a betrayal those very same instincts have perpetrated. But that will come later.
For now, he can't help but revel in Yuri's attentions, exhilarated by the rough messy kisses and the softer nuzzling alike, because all of it is his and for him and he — and he —]
Ah...
[He's so...so relieved. So validated. So reassured by Yuri's purring and the warmth of his body, and the bliss of his scent, all of them tangled up in tandem to drive the terrible voices of his ghosts away and grant him peace and respite in the interim.]
Yes. Yes, you have me.
[He's the alpha in this equation. So why is it, suddenly, that he feels as though he's the one that's been claimed?]
( The quiet warmth that envelops them in the aftermath of their orgasms tucks in around Yuri’s edges and leaves him relaxed - even more relaxed than he usually would be after a good, hard fuck. There’s a tiny sliver of him that can’t bear the idea of letting it melt away: Yuri has denied himself much over the years - including the pursuit of his own pleasure - and the gentle intimacy that follows mind-blowing sex isn’t something he often lets himself enjoy.
With Balthus, sometimes. With strangers, never, unless they’ve agreed in advance to pay a little extra for Yuri to play at being tender. With Dimitri, however, he falls into it as naturally as breathing - and when his Alpha confirms that he truly has him it pulls a deep purr from low on his chest.
The purr rolls on as slender hands stroke up and down Dimitri’s sides, skimming around to cup his ass and help him grind in close as he works his pussy around his knot. It isn’t what he planned for but it’s impossible to care; Yuri is stretched and satisfied, full to dripping with the Faerghan prince’s seed, and utterly content beneath the drape of his Alpha’s strong body.
Problem-solving can come later. For now? Yes. Dimitri should feel like he’s. been claimed - something Yuri likely exacerbates by leaning up to lick a lazy stripe over the front of his throat. )
Not bad for a first-timer.
( He teases, crossing his ankles below Dimitri’s ass to keep his legs wrapped around him. )
… There’s nothing for it, I’m afraid: we’re going to have to do that again. A lot.
( The purring gives way to an easy chuckle, and Yuri looks up to meet his gaze with dreamy, unfocused eyes. )
[That was, after all, the pretext that brought him down into Abyss in the first place, wasn't it? That he'd felt so pent-up and wild after their training mission, shaking with bloodlust and unable to calm the fire that raged in his veins — and now look at him, sleep-heavy and sated as he drapes over a purring partner, letting his throat be licked with the sort of affection that comes between pack members and mates, all notions of slaughter forgotten as he loses himself in their thick intermingling scents instead.
It was good. It was so good, even if at times his instincts did get the better of him. Even if emotions like jealousy and shame had burned hot at times, they'd always flared out soon enough — and Yuri's arms had been waiting to catch him when they did.
He does want to do this again. All of a sudden, he's not sure how he could be expected to go without it.]
Though I'm...not altogether sure what one does now, while we...wait. Do we, ah, talk?
[His cheeks heat, just slightly; the flush goes prettily with the blue of his eyes.]
Whatever you would like. Please, guide me in this respect as well.
( Now that the rational parts of his brain are slowly beginning to grind back into gear, Yuri is able to see that for all the actual fucking didn't necessarily unfold as according to plan? He's actually in a better position than he otherwise might have been. They've shared something supremely intimate with one another — Yuri doesn't plan on actually addressing his feelings about it for a good while yet — and even if Dimitri doesn't trust him, there'll be a part of him that belongs to Yuri if he keeps saying the right things.
It shouldn't be difficult, he idly muses. It's oddly easy to be kind to Dimitri — especially when he's settled above him painted in all the shades of a blushing spring morning. )
My wish is your command, huh?
( Yuri finds a warm smile touching the corners of his lips as he lifts a hand to stroke through golden hair. )
I'd say we can do whatever we feel like — providing it doesn't involve leaving the bed.
( He chuckles, scritching lightly behind Dimitri's ear. Perhaps now would be a good time to probe a little further about those circles of nobility in Faerghus: no doubt the prince is feeling awkward in his desperation to do the proper thing, and the whole point of this was to find a way to capitalise on that.
So Yuri probes. )
But I've gotta say, I'm kind of interested in what you said earlier. Courtly life, dangerous Omegas ... how's that going to work when you take a pretty wife? Confine her to her rooms so she can't meddle with the politics?
[Dimitri tries his best to shift his weight so that his instincts are sufficiently appeased — wanting to lie directly atop the omega he's tied to, press him down into the nest, keep him safe with the shield of his body and the implicit power in his frame — but at the same time, not be so callous as to just crush him outright, or presume that sort of security is what Yuri really wants. His head is clearer now than it's been; things like that occur to him, more frequently, that instincts make demands, but they're not always the only factor in the equation.
It's downright embarrassing, though, how quickly he melts when he's petted, pushing his head into the touch even as his hips make shallow grinding circles designed to keep drawing out the pleasure for both of them well into the afterglow, pliant like warm caramel.]
We would never imprison our queens. Not in Faerghus.
[The very thought is just...abhorrent, to him, and he can't help but feel the need to defend his kingdom in the face of the suggestion. What he's defending it from, exactly, he isn't sure; it just feels very important for Yuri to know that they're good people in Faerghus, and tolerant, and kind, and not the sort of people who would ever do...do...whatever it is he's worried about.]
It isn't widely known, but...my father's queen, in the years leading up to their deaths, was my stepmother. Not his first wife, my mother. Yet would you have known it, had I not said so?
[There is an irony here, about the Tragedy of Duscur and queen omegas meddling with politics behind the backs of their kingly alphas. But that's a revelation several years off, yet, and Dimitri still has a long way to go before then.]
The wife chosen for me will be...someone with Faerghus's best interests at heart. There'll be no danger. How could there be, so long as we're united in our goals?
( Those small movements above him tinge the edges of Yuri's afterglow with just the barest hint of shame. It's purely nonsense, of course: he hadn't bothered trying to create a nest for Dimitri because this isn't supposed to be about that, but, tied as they are, it's difficult to feel satisfied with himself.
This isn't his bed.
They aren't surrounded by his smells.
After all's said and done, they're both going to leave this place to air out instead of enjoying the lingering of their scents as they should.
Fortunately, Dimitri saves Yuri from following that rabbit hole too deep by offering an answer to his question. Quite an extraordinary answer, actually, for all Yuri keeps it carefully trained away from his face: the queen hadn't been Dimitri's mother?
Saints, but that's a revelation and a half. )
... You're right, I wouldn't have. I'm not sure I know anyone who'd know that, actually — outside of this room.
( Yuri tucks that away, stroking his palms up and down either side of Dimitri's spine as he shifts his legs and tilts his hips. The slight shift in position pulls at the tight seal around his Dimitri's knot, which draws a soft sound from the back of Yuri's throat as he stutters and clenches around him. )
Y-Yeah? Then you'll have to humour me, Your Highness: what are Faerghus's best interests?
( Long lashes flutter closed as another bead of pleasure melts through his core. )
You're sure you'll be able to find someone who sees eye to eye with you?
So you see. I have heard that elsewhere in Fodlan, wives are sometimes ranked by their supposed "worth" to their alpha. But not in Faerghus. Never in Faerghus.
[He leaves it vague which parts of Fodlan he might be referring to with that. And in truth, he has no real proof of it, outside of a few things he's heard Sylvain say that might well have just been tall tales and stories, but...
Well, Yuri had been undecided, before, about whether to favor Faerghus or the Alliance with his presence if he should ever leave Abyss. A little reinforcement of that decision can't possibly hurt, even if it's founded in facts that are at best tenuous.
But Yuri's question washes over him like a warm wave, paired with the shivery sensation of his muscles tightening around his knot, the pleasurable reminder that his seed and his cock are both still safely sheathed inside Yuri where he belongs.]
...I hope so.
[Giving voice to his uncertainty feels like a confession. For all that he's a little ashamed of it, there's a certain relief in it too.]
I only want to do right by my people. To all of my people. And to rule in a manner that pacifies the restless ghosts of those who came before me.
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( Later on, Yuri will try to deny to himself that he actually felt the moment in which Dimitri's upset shifted to elation. He'll deny the way it stirred a bone-deep pleasure of his own, the way it made the Omega in him purr in knowing it had found its place, and that pulling his knees up to his chest to hug Dimitri's waist was complete and utter instinct.
The Alpha wins out, and so too does the Omega.
On his back, it's much harder to pretend that the rational part of his mind is in control. Yes, there's that niggling thought that he's doing this for reasons beyond pleasure and procreation - but such matters seem completely and utterly diminished beneath the burning radiance of the Alpha above him. Dimitri looks like a gift from the goddess - a perfect mate wrought into being just for him - and Yuri licks into his mouth with a ragged groan as he begins to move atop him.
It's almost - almost - as good as being taken. Yuri wraps his legs over Dimitri's hips as he grinds his cock over the slick mess of his slit: he's swollen and tender, and white-hot pleasure pulses through his body with each pass over his clit, to the point where he finds himself squirming both towards and away from the intensity of the feeling. )
Dimitri ...
( The word is ever so slightly slurred, affected as he is by the wash of Dimitri's pheromones, his own hormones, and the exquisite promise of deeper pleasure. )
Dima, please.
( He barely notices the over-familiar slip of his name - he's too busy trying to remember to hitch himself up just enough that Dimitri will sink into the right entrance. The fact that he isn't trying especially hard? Well. The ramifications of that remain to be seen. )
Inside. Need it now - need you.
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He chases kiss after kiss until he can't bear to kiss him any longer, not from a lack of desire but from a sort of urgent anxiety at the thought that he's neglecting all the rest of Yuri from kissing him so much. When it becomes too much, he breaks away from Yuri's mouth and sucks wetly on his lower lip instead, kissing and licking across his jaw to settle in snugly against his neck.
And yet even with all his instincts raging, when he finally does let himself nuzzle up against the scent glands on Yuri's neck, the compulsion to bite ebbs away in the face of wanting to reassure him instead. His omega is begging for him, squirming and writhing so prettily beneath him, and so he nuzzles soothingly right at the source of his intoxicating scent, marking on top of it with his own.]
You have me. Hush, shhh. I'll give you what you need.
[Not that he really wants Yuri to quiet, by any means. It just feels right to do it, to purr in his ear and remind him what the presence of an alpha means to a needy omega, how it assures him of safety and satisfaction and pleasure all at once.
He drags his hands down Yuri's sides, over his hips, beneath his thighs. It would be wiser if he would take himself in hand, find the right place, line himself up — but that would mean stalling in his grinding rhythm, even for a second, and he's far, far too gone for that.
So he lifts Yuri a touch, shifts the angle of his own hips, and grinds smooth and firm until he feels his tip catch somewhere warm and wet, and this time he seizes onto it, pulls Yuri an inch forward onto him properly, before pressing his weight forward and starting to sink inside.
Even as he's sliding in, the thought twinges that he's been disobedient. That he's claimed a place he wasn't supposed to.
But how could he not be supposed to? He's an alpha, and Yuri's pussy is so warm and slick inside, so inviting in the way it accommodates even his own hefty girth. This is what he was made for, what Yuri was made for — so how, how could it not be precisely where he's supposed to be?
To test the waters, to reassure himself, he rumbles a low laugh.]
That's better, isn't it? I'll keep you so warm.
no subject
( Dimitri might not want him to be quiet, but the effect of his nuzzling and soothing is immediate. Yuri's squirming slows as he lets his head drop back to offer the smooth skin of his throat to his alpha, eagerly soaking up the prince's scent, the rumble of his purr, the perfect weight of him keeping him caught between his body and the mattress.
His own scent floods with satisfaction as he slides his palms down Dimitri's back. The self-imposed rules he laid down before they started this seem harder and harder to visualise in his mind; it's usually an effort to remain sensible with an alpha, sure, but there's something about Dimitri which is making it even more of a struggle than usual - something he can't pinpoint in the moment and won't be able to explain after the fact.
It doesn't seem to matter much, anyway. All he cares about is that grind, that rub, the sweet moment the head of his cock catches and pushes and begins to sink in, which has him opening his thighs a little wider to help guide him deep inside. )
Yeah—
( And maybe Dimitri has been disobedient, but Yuri can't bring himself to care. He clings on to him tightly as his cock stretches out the tight silk of his pussy, slick-hot and wet with need as the omega finally, finally gets what it wants. )
So much better ... s-so good for me ...
( Nodding through the daze, Yuri smears his lips against Dimitri's throat and jaw as he tilts his hips up to help him slide home. It's been so long since he let someone fuck him like this — Balthus is the only alpha who's had the pleasure before — but all thoughts of Constance's moon tea seem far away as he pulls the other boy in for a breathless kiss. )
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He's never had an omega before. He's seen them be mated, yes; he's stood to the side and watched, both for his own education as a royal and to bear witness to another noble's consummation. But Yuri is his now, his first, and he can't fathom in that moment how any other omega could possibly prove more enticing than the one he's claimed right here and now.
Their scents are mingling. He noses against Yuri's neck and can smell himself there, faintly over top of Yuri's much stronger, cloying scent. There's no need to bite, not right now; he's not one of those boarish alphas who can't keep their teeth to themselves, after all.
No, he's not. He's not the boar Felix calls him. This is right, it's good. It couldn't possibly feel so good if it wasn't right.]
I promised that you would bloom, didn't I...
[He slants his mouth against Yuri's, kisses him wet and messy and open. He doesn't just rock his hips back and thrust, either — no, no, he's a considerate alpha, he makes small circles with his hips and grinds himself inside Yuri in little shudders and shivers, warming him up and letting him keep his alpha's cock inside him a little longer at first.]
What do you think of Faerghus now...? Would you go without it?
[As if to punctuate his thought, he draws his hips back slowly, letting Yuri feel every inch of his absence as he slides out again until just the tip of him is left buried inside.]
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( Yuri certainly feels like he's blooming. He feels opened up in every sense of the word — not just the petal-pink wetness surrounding Dimitri's cock, but his throat, his chest, his very essence as an Omega seems prised open and shining for the Alpha above him. )
N-No ...
( He was full — so full when Dimitri shimmied and swirled his way inside him. He'd felt stretched and ripe and ready for his knot almost immediately — ready to be fucked until it felt like he'd never have to be without him.
Now, with little more than the tip of his cock dipping inside the wet clench of his hole, Yuri finds himself panting raggedly as he tries to maintain some sense of composure while he quivers there beneath him. )
No, please — Faerghus has everything I could want, everything I could need—
( Saints, but he'll be kicking himself later for begging so easily. Kiss bruised lips hang open for a moment as he squeezes two handfuls of Dimitri's ass, caught between letting the Alpha teach him this lesson and pulling him in close again. Surely if he's good he'll get what he needs, won't he? Dimitri wouldn't leave him dripping and empty just to make a point? Yuri bites at his own lower lip before leaning up to lick at the prince's mouth: )
If you take me now I'll bloom for you — only for you.
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[It strikes him, out of nowhere, that in all the time since he'd come down to Abyss, he's barely said Yuri's name. Certainly it's far out of proportion to the number of times and ways Yuri has called him by name, in return; even now, that aching whine of Dima still rings in his ears, settled pleasant beneath his skin. Is it because he didn't dare? Because it runs the risk of grounding him in a reality that the rest of this feels like an escape from?
Yurochka, he thinks from within the safety of his own mind, testing the sounds without ever letting them get close to his lips, and wonders.]
Everything you need is right here.
[He bends into Yuri's attentions, lips parting to let him lick as he likes, and pushes solidly back into him. The sensation of sliding home feels just as rich the second time as it did the first, but this time he doesn't linger once he's hilted; he wants to knot, and to make his omega slick with his own spend, and beneath Yuri's grasping fingers the muscles in his ass flex as he starts to find a brisk, deep-hitting rhythm.
As he thrusts, he's carefully watching Yuri's face and body, listening for his noises, breathing the flavor of his scent. He's scrupulously marking what seems to please him best, and what gets a reaction or doesn't; there should be something inside, he thinks, that makes him feel extra good — so Sylvain would have him believe, anyway — and he makes gradual adjustments to his angle, intent on trying to find it.]
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( Dimitri pushes back in, and the groan that spills from Yuri's lips is one that's risen from the deepest recesses of his chest. It's a rich, velvet-soft sound that wavers with each thrust; his lashes slide closed and his jaw slackens as he's deeply, soundly fucked.
It's Dimitri's first time, but he handles Yuri's body as though it was made for him. It's Dimitri's first time but already he's testing and teasing, searching for ways to make Yuri fall apart underneath him, and Yuri realises vaguely that he isn't going to need to ask him to touch his clit to make him come this time.
Already, it's building deep inside the heat of his pussy. Dimitri angles himself just so and a full-body shiver tears through Yuri, the slick heat of him spasming and clenching around the stretch of his cock as he grinds over that spot just a little way inside. When he's able to uncoil just a fraction it's with a breathless sigh — almost a sob — and his nails drag red welts across Dimitri's ass as he claws and struggles to make him fuck harder. )
There— ah— fuck, fuck me there—
( Balthus has made him come from the inside before with rough pumps from his clever fingers; "precision work", Yuri likes to tease, to make him squeeze and gush and ruin the sheets with his orgasm. Feeling the same deep ripple of muscle around Dimitri's cock is as startling as it is euphoric — but then perhaps he shouldn't have expected any less of this determined little prince.
Yuri brings a hand up to pull him down for a messy kiss. Their scents have long since melted together into one heady, perfect aroma, and Yuri slips his tongue into Dimitri's mouth with the leisurely ease of someone drunk on their shared scent. Sharp nails claw over Dimitri's hip as his free hand moves up to the headboard to keep himself braced against it: )
I'm gonna— you're gonna make me come, please, please—
( Dewy with sweat and flushed a deep pink, Yuri feels his toes curl as another bone-deep spasm of pleasure pulses through his pussy. He feels like he's going to burst — like if Dimitri pulled out, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from coming in a great mess — and so he urges him in deeper with a tilt of his hips and a smear of his lips against his jaw. )
Want it ... give me your knot.
( His teeth scrape against his earlobe, delirious with pleasure as he moans on each slick pump. )
Give it to me.
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Does he dare call it lovemaking? Rutting might be a more accurate word, but Yuri deserves better. Yuri deserves to be treasured, gorgeous sweet thing that he is, and Dimitri is going to make sure of it, going to spoil him until he's boneless and sated from the pleasure he's been given.
Of course, his own has been building all this time, as well; he can feel the vaguely familiar twinge of his knot threatening to swell, promising a terrible ache if he doesn't sate it with pressure and heat. It's a duller companion to the sharp, intoxicating pain of the gouges Yuri's nails leave in his skin, and he relishes them both as his hips continue their driving rhythm.]
Yes...yes, I will, it's yours, yours...
[There's a howl building in the back of his throat, choking him from trying to keep it swallowed back; he settles back into the right angle to pound against Yuri's sweet spot inside again and again, his knot pushing up against Yuri's pink slit until finally, finally, he snarls and claws the bedsheets and forces the thick swell of it inside.
It locks him in, and there's no helping it; he couldn't pull out now even if he tried, not without excruciating pain, and the knot does its evolutionary work by keeping them tied while his climax takes him, emptying his seed inside the hot channel where he's buried. He's spent himself before, of course, but never quite like this; even knotted, his hips continue to roll shallowly, grinding his knot against Yuri's inner walls, stimulating himself to draw out the high as he fills Yuri with his spend.
As he should be, he thinks, unbidden and wild. He should be full. He was made to be.]
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( Yuri's breath tightens in his throat as he feels Dimitri bearing down against him with new intent: his knot is a thick, hot pressure against the wet of his pussy as it grinds over his slit, and he bends one thigh back to his chest instinctively as his body gives itself to Dimitri entirely.
It's his.
Dimitri is his — and Yuri's back pulls into a tight arch as his fingers grip tighter to pull him in the rest of the way.
His lashes flutter closed, his eyes rolling up as Dimitri's knot finally sinks inside the clench of him. The sound that escapes him is caught somewhere between a gasp and a breathless sob — but then he's coming harder than he remembers in a long, long time.
It's like falling apart and being remade whole in the same exquisite moment. The hand at the headboard sinks into Dimitri's hair to crush their lips together again: it's a hard, messy kiss, with too much tongue and too much teeth, but Yuri's whimper is nothing but raw pleasure as he licks into his Alpha's mouth. He can feel Dimitri coming — can feel each pulse of hot spend as he fucks it into him — and he squirms minutely beneath him as the Omega purrs at finally, finally being used as he was meant to be. )
... Mine.
( He manages, his breath a thready whisper as he nuzzles the damp tips of their noses together. )
All mine.
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He has to, his unspoken instincts demand. He has to stay this way, or his mate won't catch. This is how a good mating is ensured, by staying locked together for as long as possible afterward.
Later, he'll realize with horror what a betrayal those very same instincts have perpetrated. But that will come later.
For now, he can't help but revel in Yuri's attentions, exhilarated by the rough messy kisses and the softer nuzzling alike, because all of it is his and for him and he — and he —]
Ah...
[He's so...so relieved. So validated. So reassured by Yuri's purring and the warmth of his body, and the bliss of his scent, all of them tangled up in tandem to drive the terrible voices of his ghosts away and grant him peace and respite in the interim.]
Yes. Yes, you have me.
[He's the alpha in this equation. So why is it, suddenly, that he feels as though he's the one that's been claimed?]
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( The quiet warmth that envelops them in the aftermath of their orgasms tucks in around Yuri’s edges and leaves him relaxed - even more relaxed than he usually would be after a good, hard fuck. There’s a tiny sliver of him that can’t bear the idea of letting it melt away: Yuri has denied himself much over the years - including the pursuit of his own pleasure - and the gentle intimacy that follows mind-blowing sex isn’t something he often lets himself enjoy.
With Balthus, sometimes. With strangers, never, unless they’ve agreed in advance to pay a little extra for Yuri to play at being tender. With Dimitri, however, he falls into it as naturally as breathing - and when his Alpha confirms that he truly has him it pulls a deep purr from low on his chest.
The purr rolls on as slender hands stroke up and down Dimitri’s sides, skimming around to cup his ass and help him grind in close as he works his pussy around his knot. It isn’t what he planned for but it’s impossible to care; Yuri is stretched and satisfied, full to dripping with the Faerghan prince’s seed, and utterly content beneath the drape of his Alpha’s strong body.
Problem-solving can come later. For now? Yes. Dimitri should feel like he’s. been claimed - something Yuri likely exacerbates by leaning up to lick a lazy stripe over the front of his throat. )
Not bad for a first-timer.
( He teases, crossing his ankles below Dimitri’s ass to keep his legs wrapped around him. )
… There’s nothing for it, I’m afraid: we’re going to have to do that again. A lot.
( The purring gives way to an easy chuckle, and Yuri looks up to meet his gaze with dreamy, unfocused eyes. )
I haven’t come like that in years.
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[That was, after all, the pretext that brought him down into Abyss in the first place, wasn't it? That he'd felt so pent-up and wild after their training mission, shaking with bloodlust and unable to calm the fire that raged in his veins — and now look at him, sleep-heavy and sated as he drapes over a purring partner, letting his throat be licked with the sort of affection that comes between pack members and mates, all notions of slaughter forgotten as he loses himself in their thick intermingling scents instead.
It was good. It was so good, even if at times his instincts did get the better of him. Even if emotions like jealousy and shame had burned hot at times, they'd always flared out soon enough — and Yuri's arms had been waiting to catch him when they did.
He does want to do this again. All of a sudden, he's not sure how he could be expected to go without it.]
Though I'm...not altogether sure what one does now, while we...wait. Do we, ah, talk?
[His cheeks heat, just slightly; the flush goes prettily with the blue of his eyes.]
Whatever you would like. Please, guide me in this respect as well.
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( Now that the rational parts of his brain are slowly beginning to grind back into gear, Yuri is able to see that for all the actual fucking didn't necessarily unfold as according to plan? He's actually in a better position than he otherwise might have been. They've shared something supremely intimate with one another — Yuri doesn't plan on actually addressing his feelings about it for a good while yet — and even if Dimitri doesn't trust him, there'll be a part of him that belongs to Yuri if he keeps saying the right things.
It shouldn't be difficult, he idly muses. It's oddly easy to be kind to Dimitri — especially when he's settled above him painted in all the shades of a blushing spring morning. )
My wish is your command, huh?
( Yuri finds a warm smile touching the corners of his lips as he lifts a hand to stroke through golden hair. )
I'd say we can do whatever we feel like — providing it doesn't involve leaving the bed.
( He chuckles, scritching lightly behind Dimitri's ear. Perhaps now would be a good time to probe a little further about those circles of nobility in Faerghus: no doubt the prince is feeling awkward in his desperation to do the proper thing, and the whole point of this was to find a way to capitalise on that.
So Yuri probes. )
But I've gotta say, I'm kind of interested in what you said earlier. Courtly life, dangerous Omegas ... how's that going to work when you take a pretty wife? Confine her to her rooms so she can't meddle with the politics?
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It's downright embarrassing, though, how quickly he melts when he's petted, pushing his head into the touch even as his hips make shallow grinding circles designed to keep drawing out the pleasure for both of them well into the afterglow, pliant like warm caramel.]
We would never imprison our queens. Not in Faerghus.
[The very thought is just...abhorrent, to him, and he can't help but feel the need to defend his kingdom in the face of the suggestion. What he's defending it from, exactly, he isn't sure; it just feels very important for Yuri to know that they're good people in Faerghus, and tolerant, and kind, and not the sort of people who would ever do...do...whatever it is he's worried about.]
It isn't widely known, but...my father's queen, in the years leading up to their deaths, was my stepmother. Not his first wife, my mother. Yet would you have known it, had I not said so?
[There is an irony here, about the Tragedy of Duscur and queen omegas meddling with politics behind the backs of their kingly alphas. But that's a revelation several years off, yet, and Dimitri still has a long way to go before then.]
The wife chosen for me will be...someone with Faerghus's best interests at heart. There'll be no danger. How could there be, so long as we're united in our goals?
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( Those small movements above him tinge the edges of Yuri's afterglow with just the barest hint of shame. It's purely nonsense, of course: he hadn't bothered trying to create a nest for Dimitri because this isn't supposed to be about that, but, tied as they are, it's difficult to feel satisfied with himself.
This isn't his bed.
They aren't surrounded by his smells.
After all's said and done, they're both going to leave this place to air out instead of enjoying the lingering of their scents as they should.
Fortunately, Dimitri saves Yuri from following that rabbit hole too deep by offering an answer to his question. Quite an extraordinary answer, actually, for all Yuri keeps it carefully trained away from his face: the queen hadn't been Dimitri's mother?
Saints, but that's a revelation and a half. )
... You're right, I wouldn't have. I'm not sure I know anyone who'd know that, actually — outside of this room.
( Yuri tucks that away, stroking his palms up and down either side of Dimitri's spine as he shifts his legs and tilts his hips. The slight shift in position pulls at the tight seal around his Dimitri's knot, which draws a soft sound from the back of Yuri's throat as he stutters and clenches around him. )
Y-Yeah? Then you'll have to humour me, Your Highness: what are Faerghus's best interests?
( Long lashes flutter closed as another bead of pleasure melts through his core. )
You're sure you'll be able to find someone who sees eye to eye with you?
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[He leaves it vague which parts of Fodlan he might be referring to with that. And in truth, he has no real proof of it, outside of a few things he's heard Sylvain say that might well have just been tall tales and stories, but...
Well, Yuri had been undecided, before, about whether to favor Faerghus or the Alliance with his presence if he should ever leave Abyss. A little reinforcement of that decision can't possibly hurt, even if it's founded in facts that are at best tenuous.
But Yuri's question washes over him like a warm wave, paired with the shivery sensation of his muscles tightening around his knot, the pleasurable reminder that his seed and his cock are both still safely sheathed inside Yuri where he belongs.]
...I hope so.
[Giving voice to his uncertainty feels like a confession. For all that he's a little ashamed of it, there's a certain relief in it too.]
I only want to do right by my people. To all of my people. And to rule in a manner that pacifies the restless ghosts of those who came before me.