Ford shifts under his blankets, trying to get as comfortable as he could but the burning sensation running up his spine wouldn't let him feel any form of relief. His mouth was dry, his limbs were shaking and his body craves something he couldn't have.
"Stanley." He groans into his pillow and pulls his blankets over his head, moaning pitifully into the plush. Ford knows how pathetic he looks right now but he couldn't help it, his body wasn't listening to him and he feels like he was on fire.
Too hot, way too warm.
Ford swallows thickly and rolls onto his back, kicking off his blankets. He runs his fingers through his sweaty hair and cries out, needing relief from the agonizing heat that shakes his very core. Though his body aches for attention, he doesn't dare touch himself because of how badly his body hurts so he settles for gripping the damp sheet underneath him and cries out again.
Thankfully Ford asked his assistant to go home hours ago and though the man understood why, he insisted that he stay and help at least keep the man feed and hydrated because he wouldn't be effected by his heat butFord's pride had him refuses the offer and told Fiddleford that he would call him if things got out of hand, soon after the man went home after making sure the entire Shack was locked up so the omega would be left alone.
Ford slightly regrets it now, feeling like he sweat out all the water in his body and the thirst was killing him. The man rolls over onto his side with a groan, debating if he really wants to get up and get something to drink or not. The logical part of his brain told him that he needs to stay hydrated but the omega part of his mind told him to stay put in his nest of blankets, after a few moment of internal debate, he finally gets up and stumbles over to the bedroom door.
When did the floor start moving? His knees give out and hits the floor roughly, nearly hitting his head against the doorknob. The man's heart leaps up into his throat and his breathe shakes as he grabs the door knob, forcing himself to stand again. Ford leans against the doorframe until his legs stop shaking then slowly makes his way out into the hallway, hands on the wall and heads towards the bathroom. It was much closer than the kitchen.
The bathroom lights are too bright for his sensitive eyes so he keeps them off, settling for a small lamp he left on the counter and turns on the faucet, leaning down and drinking handfuls of water until his belly hurts then turns off the sink to lean against it. His eyes catches the mirror and frowns, he looks terrible. His shirt is already drenched in sweat so he takes it off and tosses it to the floor with a relieved sigh, the fabric was beginning to irritate his skin.
Too hot, his chest was flushed and he could see his painful erection through his sweat pants. The man reaches down and palms himself through the cotton, moaning lightly and turns towards the shower because a cool shower sounds fan-freaking-tastic right about now. Ford doesn't even bother with taking off his sweat pants, just climbs into the tub and pulls back the curtain and settles down into the tub. He rests his back against the cold porcelain and it feels so nice against his heated skin that he lets out a sigh, the cold water feels even better.
The water quickly soaks his pants and it sticks to his skin but it doesn't bother him because it's cooling him off, he shivers when a hand wonders under the damp fabric, letting his cold fingers brush against himself. Ford leans his head back and lazily strokes himself, letting small sighs escape his lips, his body shivering with each stroke.
With very little surprise, the man comes quickly but is still unsatisfied. Ford gives a groan and rolls his head to the sigh, looking at his mirror again. He could barely see the top of his head from where he was sitting but sees where the water has his hair slicked back, reminding him of the way Stan used to do his hair.
The way he would fix his hair every morning before they got ready for school, lightly running the cheap hair gel through his hair before brushing it back and how Ford would spend hours running his fingers through it after Stan got out it the shower.
The ache in his chest returns, causing him to let out a shaky sigh, Ford clutches at his chest and turns onto his side to face the wall. He misses his brother, needs him but he has no idea where to start looking for him.
But what if Stan never wants to see him again after what's happened between them? The idea of his brother hating hurts more than it really should.
"Stan." His lip trembles and he hides his face in his arms, Stan probably didn't miss him at all and Ford couldn't blame him. Stan's probably already moved on, found a different omega and settled down with. Why would he want Ford? He was just useless, male omega. He couldn't give him children or-no, stop it. Ford shakes his head, wanting to shake all the bad thoughts away. "Calm down, it's just your hormones getting the better of you."
But it doesn't help, he's still left thinking about the alpha he missed and hating himself for not getting in contact with him after so many years. Ford wonders if he should try to call his brother, after his heat at least but after a while, thinking becomes to much of a hassle.
Ford closes his sore eyes and ends up falling asleep in the tub with the shower still going, unaware of the silent being watching him from above him.
Bill wonders who this Stan guy is.
