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Always Your Fault!
The drugs Blake's social worker had sourced for him during his teen years had been crap. There was just no denying that. Umbra hadn't been widely available back then, or even now for that matter, and it wasn't like she'd been able to afford the best for her kids. She'd gotten them the best she could, God bless her, and it had done the job. They hadn't ended up revealing what they were to the outside world so that they could be raped, exploited, and used.
But the mood swings, full body aches, and horniness…oh Blake had experienced that in all its horrible glory during his teenage years even on Umbra. Simon might possibly still have nightmares about rooming with him. It would be understandable. He sure as fuck had had nightmares about what it had been like and how much worse it would have been without the drugs to act as a buffer. But Blake had thought, before, that he had a pretty good idea what being in a real heat would be like.
He'd had no fucking clue.
The first clue Blake had of what was in store for him came in the form of an itch. And it most definitely wasn't the sort of itch you could scratch easily and gain some relief from. Oh no, this was the sort of itch where you got bit or whatever it some weird place where only a contortionist stood a chance in hell of reaching it. And like all itches that couldn't be scratched the itching only got worse and seemed to spread throughout his body the longer Blake went without the ability to do a damn thing about it. In this case the itching originated in his stomach, where obviously Blake could do nothing about it thanks to the skin and stuff in the way. And that of course meant that it just got worse as the minutes passed and he ended up pacing around the bedroom in frustration.
Scratching his belly wasn't doing anything, why would it? And Blake tried to remember Sex Ed and biology and all the shit he'd been taught about heats, but he also figured that that information wasn't going to do him a lot of good since he was pretty sure he'd never had a class about what happened when a long term Umbra user was forced off the stuff. Hell, the research probably hadn't been done for the doctors to have that fucking information, much less the general public.
So should he be worried right now that all this itching was related to his drug fucked coming heat or was this just…could it be heat rash? He was in a desert after all. Where the fuck was Google when you needed it? Oh right, BANE had taken his phone from him!
Not that it would work out here, Blake mentally fumed to himself. He didn't see Bane giving him their internet password. Assehole. And the itching kept getting worse as it spread INSIDE his body, where he couldn't fucking reach it! Not unless he wanted to cut himself open, and Bane hadn't driven him that crazy yet. Though give the bastard time.
Glaring at the alpha in question, or at least the back of his mate's head since Bane was ignoring him and chatting on the phone with Talia at the far side of the room, Blake considered various unpleasant ways he could remind that bastard that he was there before deciding to see if a cool shower would help instead. If nothing else it was really warm in the room and the cool water should help make him feel less hot and irritable. At least in theory. And if it didn't well then Bane had no one to blame but himself when Blake came out even bitchier than before.
Flipping Bane off just to make himself feel a little better Blake shed Bane's shirt and tossed it on the floor as he walked over to the bathroom. He hoped Bane tripped over it later. Maybe after his oh so important, 'I have to have this talk with her before we leave so just wait patiently' conversation with Talia.
Once inside the bathroom Blake took a moment to give his flushed, naked reflection the finger too since this was his own fucking body betraying him, and how fucked up was that? But it wasn't like that accomplished anything, it didn't even make him feel better, so Blake entered the shower while tugging on the stupid collar around his neck. It was coming off when he got out of the shower. He'd make Bane remove it if he had to. If he had to be Bane's fucking mate he sure as fuck wasn't wearing the damn collar of a Pet. No way in hell.
The cold water that came spraying down on his bare skin did feel good though. Really good. Really, really good in fact, and even better as the minutes ticked by.
With his hands braced on the tiles Blake found himself making some rather…sexual happy sounds for some reason as all that cool water slipped and slithered down his body, the coolness of it hitting his heated flesh making Blake shudder and arch his body to make sure that every inch of him was hit.
Fuck, why had he ever viewed cold water as the antichrist of bathing meant only to wake you up or be suffered through when necessary? Fuck this felt awesome! He was going to stay in here until Bane dragged him out.
How long had he been in here? His fingers were looking more than a little wrinkly.
And there was this nagging voice in the back of Blake's mind muttering words like hypothermia, shock, and something about omegas losing their ability to judge temperatures accurately while in heat, which had led to many injuries and even some deaths.
Face scrunching up in a glower, he was fine, thank you very much stupid subconscious, Blake turned off the water automatically and reached up with one hand to check his pulse, thinking to reassure his subconscious that he was just fine, so it could shut the fuck up.
Only it took more effort than it really should have to raise those fingers to his throat. And his aim was off at first even though he'd done this like a million times. And…it was a little sluggish when he found the pulse point. Abnormally so.
Shit.
Pushing off with the hand still braced on the tile Blake all but stumbled backward as his legs refused to support his weight properly. What the hell? And now that the water was off the itching was starting again and fuck, what was he to do about that? His brain didn't want to work.
He needed to sit down and try and think.
Or maybe he should call…no. Bane was on the phone with Talia. He didn't like them being friends. He didn't like HIS mate talking to that bitch. He HATED that she was more important to Bane than spending time with him when he obviously needed his alpha. Bane was stupid. Ergo he wasn't going to call for help and look weak in either of their eyes. No way. Not happening. He'd rather die, thank you very much.
Though he'd rather not be found dead and naked in a shower.
Fuck his brain was fried.
More through sheer luck and muscle memory was Blake able to get himself down to sit on the cold floor of the shower and lean his head against the tile, his eyes closing in relief at his success. Hah. Take that Bane. I don't need you.
At least not until he had to move again. And fuck, the itching.
Wiggling as he tried to get comfortable-or was he shivering? Not important. What was important was the fact that it was apparently friggin impossible without cold water streaming down over him.
He also had no sense of time or how long he'd been on the floor when Blake heard the door to the bathroom opening. Which meant he had to open his eyes, unfortunately.
It probably wasn't a good thing that that was a bit of a struggle too.
And then there was Bane and Blake found out he was still with it enough to scowl at the tin can currently hiding a large portion of the alpha's face from him. Bane had put it back on to talk to Talia.
His alpha could move quickly when it wanted to, he'd give the assehole that, and the shower door was wrenched open hard enough that Blake actually heard something break as the top hinge gave out. Thankfully the other two held or there'd be glass every friggin where, Blake noted absently as he found himself scooped up and carried out of the room. Bathrooms were death traps without that.
And being this close to Bane made the itching worse, dammit.
Mentally debating the perils of squirming or telling Bane to put him down, he probably wasn't up to walking yet, Blake found himself yelping when he was dropped on the bed like a discarded bit of clothing, which was so not-oh, Bane was losing his clothes.
Fuck he was so fuckable.
Distracted by the strip show, which wasn't really a show at all since the man was shedding clothes like it was a fucking Olympic sport, Blake found himself doing a lot more yelping and squirming as Bane joined him on the bed and yanked him up against his very warm body which did nothing to help his itching at all. Nor did the rough way Bane was running his hands over him endear the man to him AT ALL.
Or it didn't until the lightbulb went on and Blake's brain realized that while it made the itching worse, there was also pleasure in the connection. A pleasure to equal the annoyance of the itching was rubbing his body against Bane's. Or more specifically a certain part of his body against Bane.
A couple of planned wiggles had his ass positioned just right against Bane's crotch and then it was a very simple matter to start rubbing against the man in the universal demand to be fucked. Now. And fuck but his ass was already so friggin wet it would be nothing for Bane to just thrust inside him and fill him up. Fuck this itch and need right out of him.
"Be still. You're freezing."
Actually he was getting warmer by the second, thank you very much. And Bane restricting his movement with his bulging arm muscles was really starting to annoy him. Though they were really sexy to look at. He wanted to bite them. And be held down by them. And see them flex along with every other muscle in Bane's gorgeous body while he fucked him.
But apparently Bane was too stupid to get his obvious body signaled so Blake forced enough brain cells together to manage a surprisingly harsh and garbled demand to be fucked.
Bane's response was a frustrated sounding growl followed by a question. "Are you in heat now?"
What?
Oh. Right.
SHIT!
"This is ALL your fault!"
"You nearly killed yourself in that shower!" Bane growled back at him, his fury coming through loud and clear.
If he could have bit Bane he would have. In not a sexy way. He had to contend himself with repeating his early statement, since the shower thing was Bane's fault too.
"Of course it's my fault. Everything is my fault accord you."
Blake wanted to resort that everything was Bane's fault, which should be obvious to anyone with a working brain, but he was a little reoccupied trying to get some relief from the conflicting needs that had him by both his throat and his dick at the moment.
Vaguely aware of some Arabic cursing in his ear, Blake just growled in frustration right back until suddenly Bane was rolling them so that he was on his stomach and Bane was on top of him. Yes. Progress!
"Fine. I will give you what you want and then I'll take you out of here. No one will see you like this but me."
Finally the man had a smart plan. It was about time.
)
If he hadn't been in heat Blake supposed he would have been mortified by his behavior in the helicopter Bane had arranged to take them to a deserted outpost an hour's drive from Bane's compound. Somewhere 'safe' according to Bane. His men were following by jeep or whatever to guard them while they were inside going at it like rabbits. A smart move on Bane's part since having anyone in the back of helicopter would not have lived long enough to do any guarding. Or at least Blake was pretty sure Bane wouldn't have allowed anyone to see Blake strip out of the pants Bane had forced him into before they'd left as soon as they were in the air so that he could spend the helicopter ride with Bane's fingers up his ass, riding them for all he was worth while begging for the alpha's cock instead.
Purely for health purposes, just to be clear.
Hopefully the earphone thingies pilots wore and the noise from the copter blades had drowned him out, because Blake was pretty sure he'd been pretty damn loud in making those demands too. Or at least he was pretty sure he'd been. Things were getting more than a little blurry by the time they started their descent and Bane made him put his stupid pants back on again.
But at least Bane carried him into the building so that Blake was able to bury his face against Bane's chest so that he didn't have to see the pilot at all. He wanted to concentrate on smelling himself on his mate. Fuck but Bane smelled good. And biteable. And his neck was within easy reach.
So he sucked and bit Bane's throat while his alpha growled at him and gave orders to the pilot, and then they were inside the building and Blake figured it was okay to start demanding that Bane fuck him again.
"Patience."
"Fuck patience. Fuck me."
There was a definite undertone of wry amusement to his voice as Bane promised that he would. Once they were upstairs in the bedroom. No biting until then.
"But you like when I bite you." And Blake bit him just to prove it as they headed up a rustic set of stairs that apparently led up to the second level.
"Robin."
"I'm starting to like the way you say my name." That called for another bite and lick, just to soothe the skin a little.
"It would serve you right if I dropped you."
Being in heat meant fighting dirty as far as Blake was concerned. "Is that any way to speak to the future mother of your children?"
"When that mother is you, yes."
"Meanie."
When they reached the bedroom Blake looked it over in one sweeping glance. "Damn. It's a good thing I'm going to be under or on top of you the whole time or that bed wouldn't work at all."
As it was Blake wasn't entirely sure that the thing was up to the sexual beating it was about to take. Not that it was going to matter to him in about an hour. He'd be amendable to being fucked on or over every surface in the room including the floor. He really hoped they didn't end on the floor. And he was likely to end up impaled if they gave that skinny little table and it's accompanying chair a try. The mini fridge wouldn't be too bad depending on how it was utilized.
"It will do well enough." And so saying Bane walked over to it and gently set Blake down on top of the single sheet atop the bed. "Remove your clothes."
Now there was a plan he could get behind.
Before Bane got behind him, Blake mentally snarked, snickering over it.
Wiggling out of his pants Blake happily tossed them aside before pulling his shirt up and over his head. For the moment he was himself and Blake could only hope that that continued for a bit longer. Though probably not. From his own research Blake knew that omegas generally retained some semblance of common sense for the first hour or so once their heats hit, but it was all downhill from there.
Joy.
And Bane wasn't getting undressed, Blake noted with a frown, watching the alpha as he went over to the fridge and opened it up, pulling out two large bottles of water from it. Oh.
Insides going to mush at the physical evidence that Bane was going to take care of him, soon he'd ben so mindless that thoughts of food and water wouldn't even enter his equally mushy brain, Blake felt a wave of affection well up in his chest. Damn.
Shuffling over to the side of the bed Blake slid off, pleased that his legs held him even if his ass was already a little achy with much worse to come. But ignoring that, and the other signs that he'd soon become a raging nymphomaniac beyond either of their control, Blake walked over to where Bane was watching him with definite wariness. It made him smile.
"Now that we're alone-off." And so saying Blake reached up to start undoing the straps that held Bane's mask in place. He wanted access to that sexy mouth of his and damn if the stupid facial accessory was going to stop him.
One of Bane's hands came up to slide his fingers through Blake's hair. "Are you back with me, Little One?"
"For the moment. Miss me?"
"Surprisingly yes."
Pleased to hear it Blake tossed the mask in the general direction of the table and then framing Bane's face between his hands brought the alpha's mouth in line with his own for a kiss.
