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Sometimes, Tyler truly regrets the path he's taken.
Said path has led him into a life infested of alphas. They're around every corner, wherever he goes there's one. And one might think hey, that's quite normal, but not to him.
The only alpha in his household was his father, and he'd been shielded from them up until adulthood.
Strict rules were placed upon the Joseph children, mainly Tyler, who'd been the only omega aside from his sister. Zack was born a beta. His parents, mainly his mother, had instilled a hardcore fear of alphas into his brain – Always chatting about how they were unruly, violent. That'd been enough to scare him off for a couple of years.
But then he met Josh, and he felt lied to.
Sure, alphas are still creatures led by instinct. But Josh is like a well loved family dog. His nature has never been something to worry about because he often forgets he's supposed to be the biggest man in the room – Often he'll find a way to hide behind Tyler, to make himself smaller so as to not be noticed.
Tyler adores Josh. He loves him.
He'd be more than happy to mate with him, to be together. But then he wouldn't be Tyler anymore. There'd be no band, only Josh, and that's it. All the work he's done, his lyrics and his melodies and his soul poured into years worth of published works would disappear the moment he lets Josh bite him.
That alone makes Tyler unbelievably upset.
The thought sickens him. It's all only worsened by the fact that he can't escape them – Josh is good, he's fine and kind and nice. But the others? They're all like his mother said; ravenous and sinful, always looking for someone who hasn't been knotted yet, sticking their noses where they shouldn't. The amount of times Tyler has almost plucked someone's eyes out while on tour just doesn't match any existing number.
They're somewhere in Los Angeles, Tyler wasn't paying attention to the car ride. But it's a party.
A fancy party. And it reeks of alpha.
“You could look happier.” Mark quips, walking stiffly beside him.
“You're a beta, you don't get it.”
“They stink, you hate them, omega logics. They're still the ones employing us, kinda. So be nice.”
Be nice. That's all he's ever been told.
Tyler resorts to standing in a corner, drinking lukewarm champagne and eating food that looks better than it tastes. Some people do approach him, congratulating him on the album and praising his abilities – All omegas or betas.
His eyes find Josh faster than they could ever find anyone else.
Josh is making a statement by dressing quite casual to a party where most everyone has something tailored. He struts into the hall, smiling and waving like the fucking golden retriever he is, and he perks up immediately – Within all the mingled scents there's Tyler's, sweet and sour at the same time, coming in strongly from across the room.
Josh is with him in seconds. “I know that look.”
“Think I'm gonna hurl,” Tyler grimaces. “Where were you?”
“I got held up at the label, they wanted me to oversee some stuff.”
Tyler quirks a brow. “About the band?”
“Yeah, just some upcoming events – I'd assumed they told you, Ty.”
Bitterness prickles at Tyler's throat. “No, they didn't.” It's a curt response, and Josh doesn't deserve his anger, but where is he supposed to put it?
He drowns out the noises inside his head with more and more drinks, eventually gathering up the courage to hit the bar while Josh makes other alpha friends to add to his puppy pack.
At some point he's feeling loose.
He doesn't usually drink. Alcohol makes him sick, and he's never enjoyed the idea of developing a taste for it, but tonight he guesses it's allowed – It's not like he needs to be that present, considering no one's struck a conversation with him in hours. Apple martinis and vodka red bulls flow like water, and he starts to feel the buzz inside his head as he drags himself to the bathroom.
The bathroom is cold, so is the water he splashes on his face. Tyler remains there, breathing.
He wants to go home. Except he's not sure where home is at the moment.
As if on cue, Josh appears in the doorway.
“Ty, you okay?”
And it's the tone, the gentleness that doesn't belong in someone like him, that makes Tyler grunt and push the hand on his shoulder sway. “I'm fine, don’ need you babysitting me.”
“I'm not,” Josh frowns. “You're my friend.”
“Until your next rut, then you have to lock yourself away because I'm a piece of meat.”
“Tyler… You know that's not what I actually think of you.”
But how could he ever say that? His brain is wired to see Tyler as nothing but prey. “Yeah,” Tyler swallows. “Sure.”
“I think you've drunk enough. Maybe we should go.”
“I'm perfectly fine. Thanks.”
Josh looks at him, slightly heartbroken, like a kicked dog. Tyler doesn't want to be looked at.
“You didn't think of standing up for me when you were in the meeting?”
“I didn't know you hadn't been told about it.”
“I'm the lead singer,” Tyler snaps, fixing his gaze on Josh now. “Why wouldn't I be there? Oh, sorry – So easy to forget with you all, you don't care. Fuck, Josh, bite me already if you're so eager.”
Josh closes in on him, slow, tentative steps – He's testing the waters of just how mad Tyler is.
His scent is strong like the ground when it rains and midsummer afternoons at the beach. There's a hint of motor oil and apricot, rugged and sweet, balancing itself out as it melts at the juncture of Josh's neck.
It clings. It's stuck to a lot of Tyler's clothes. It's in his kits and his luggage. Josh's scent makes a home for itself in the crevices of their shared life, and smelling it now, while as vulnerable as he feels, makes his underwear become slightly damp. He's drunk, lost, and Josh is all over him with his alpha scent and his alpha body, reassuring him that he didn't mean to exclude him.
Wobbly on his legs, Tyler manages to find the strength to peel himself away. “I think I should go.”
“I'll take you back.”
“No,” Tyler snaps, sudden and loud. “No, it's – I have to go by myself. I'm… troubled.”
Josh's face twists in understanding, wincing. “Shit. Okay. I'll call for our driver, then. Make sure he's not an alpha.”
That Tyler can appreciate.
He's taken back to the hotel, where he locks himself behind the door to his room and peels off every layer of clothing he wore to the party.
The bed is cold, unfamiliar. That makes him groan, he can't find a comfortable position, and as he manages to shove two fingers inside his cunt all he can feel is discomfort. It's not enough and yet it's too much at the same time, his senses are on fire, his nerves scream at him, his spine goes rigid as he orgasms all over his palm.
As he's coming down he thinks of Josh, getting angry all over again.
It's not his heat. Just a weird thing that happens when he's around Josh, or any alpha, for too long.
In the morning he wakes sticky and sore, groaning his way to the bathroom where he takes a half an hour shower and spends a little too long staring at his suitcase on the floor, as if he were to magically get clothed.
Mark is at the studio when he arrives, chewing on hard rock candy and laughing at something on his phone. His gaze locks on Tyler as the door shuts behind the omega.
“Dude, you just ran away last night.”
“Wasn't feeling well,” Tyler mumbles, dismissedly. “Went back to the hotel, slept the illness off.”
“Uh huh,” Mark frowns, unconvinced. “Well, I have news.”
Tyler sighs. “Spill, then.”
“There's going to be a private show soon, it's supposed to be a celebration of rock music but there's a catch – One that you'll hate,” Mark grabs an envelope from the coffee table, taking the letter from the inside. “It's for you two, but…”
Tyler grabs it, eyes narrowing at the neat lettering and clean design of the letter.
Dearest Twenty One Pilots,
We are so happy to invite you to our annual celebration dedicated towards all of our rock musicians. Those who are beloved to this label will be cheered and celebrated. Do join us for a splendid full of love and rock music.
To Josh and his omega companion; Tyler.
“Omega companion.”
“Yep.”
“That about me?”
“Yep."
“Step out of the studio, Mark.”
“Yep. See you later.”
The damage done to the studio is incomparable to the hurt Tyler's feeling inside, but as long as he's hurting those motherfuckers one way or another then he can console himself with that.
It's totally trashed by the time he's leaving again.
The celebration is in a week or so, Tyler burns the invitation so he doesn't even register, but he guesses Mark knows. Or not. He really doesn't care much.
Columbus welcomes him warmly, he rushes out of the airport and into a cab right to his childhood home, where his mother is waiting for him with a home cooked meal and her open arms. Tyler melts into the hug, breathing in the vanilla and patchouli of her scent.
He's guided to the dining room, sat on his usual seat, and fed maybe too much.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, my boy?”
“Wanted to see ya’,” Tyler shrugs, though the lie goes down roughly as he chews through freshly baked bread dunked in soup. “Missed you, missed dad and my brother and sister.”
Kelly smiles, eyes glimmering. “That's not it.”
“Huh?”
“You might miss us, but that ain't the reason why you're here,” She stands, plucking the plate and the silverware from him to bring it to the sink. “You're my son, and I can smell it on you when you're lying.”
Tyler sighs, following her to the kitchen where he slumps back against the counter. “I just – You were right,” He murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest. “All alphas are the same.”
Her gaze snaps to him, clouded by worry. “What happened?”
“Nothing like that, ma,” Tyler cringes at the mere thought. “Just… It was too good to be true, y'know, the whole make believe that I was something else, that I could escape being just the omega if the art I made had enough of an impact.”
“This isn't about Josh, is it?”
“No – We fought, yeah, so we're a bit weird with each other now but… he's good, ma. It ain't about him, but it is about everybody else.”
“You know how I felt about you leaving,” His mother dries her hands on a worn rag, turning to face him. “You remember what I said, yes?” Tyler nods, she continues, “I told you the world out there ain't as kind as the den you grew up in.”
Tyler laughs bitterly. “Learned that lesson, alright.”
“But then again, I've been so proud, you've made me so proud,” She sighs. “Seeing you on stage – You aren't just an omega, but you're making a lot of us proud,” She swats at him with the rag, softly. “You fought for it, it wasn't handed to you.”
“So, I just take it,”
“Yes,” Kelly nods, stern. “But with your head held high and your records that struck gold tucked under your arm,” She smiles. “And maybe with Josh in tail.”
Tyler flushes, chuckling. “I was mean to him, tho.”
“And what's new about that?”
She has a point, actually.
Still, he spends the weekend off the radar, hanging out with his family and walking around as he pleases. It's a good detox, helps him clear his head and by the time he's boarding his plane back to LA he feels a bit softer.
Mark must've told Josh about it all, because when he walks out of L.A.X there's Josh waiting for him on his bike, an extra helmet hooked around his arm and a knowing look on his face.
“Hey, Columbus.”
“California,” Tyler greets, tightening his bag around his shoulder. “You're still considered persona non grata back there – The betrayal and all."
Josh laughs, easy and soft and loose. “Am I not worthy of a trial?”
“No.”
Climbing into the back of Josh's bike, Tyler thinks of his mom's words.
The sea breeze makes him feel good as they ride along the coast side, Tyler holds onto Josh's midriff and sort of wishes he didn't have the helmet on, just so he could rest his face on the expanse of Josh's shoulders.
“Come on, I got the guest room ready and our gear transferred here.”
Josh's home is an uncharted space. Tyler walks inside with doubtful steps, carrying his luggage behind him and letting his eyes wander around.
It's very much Josh, reeks of him, too.
They're not mates. Living together under one roof isn't a good idea, nor is it seen positively in the eyes of the public, but Josh doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't seem to care for most rules that revolve around omegas and alphas, which is as frustrating as it is refreshing.
Tyler leaves his things inside the guest room, then he joins Josh in the living room.
Josh doesn't seem upset, which is eating at him. It'd all be far easier if Josh was the type of guy to get into yelling matches with him, like most of the other guys in bands do. But he isn't. And at first Tyler had thought it was because of their nature – As an alpha, Josh had to mind how he treated omegas, but it wasn't that. Josh was naturally kind hearted and avoided conflict at all costs, always letting Tyler have the final word and never resenting him for it.
It kind of sucked, or so Tyler believed. Josh deserved to be angry, too.
“I'm sorry,” He mumbles, the couch is wide and expansive but they're close. “For how I behaved the other night.”
“It's fine,” Josh looks at him, all soft and fond. “I understand. Things aren't easy for you.”
Tyler stares into his eyes, suddenly overcome by a feeling of nostalgia, of longing. Josh's gaze is warm on him, fixated, and all he can do is fidget with his hoodie just to do something with his hands. “Still, they're not on you. You're not evil, I didn't mean what I said.”
“Those vodka red bulls, man.”
“It was vanilla berry red bull, too.”
“You might be the grossest guy alive.”
They cackle together, like they've always done. It's nice. It's good. It's the usual.
But something cracks up on the surface.
The next few days are spent practicing and rehearsing, because apparently they're being forced to perform for the assholes at that private show.
Josh had been told about the letter by Mark, and he'd taken a great offense at the way they referred to Tyler as just his companion – Not because he wouldn't wish him to be, or so he said, but because it wasn't fair. Tyler had made a non committal noise, fighting back the urge to say how nothing was fair for him ever, and Josh had apologized for the letter as if it had been written by his own hands.
The night before the show, though, Tyler begins to feel strange.
He rarely gets sick. It's always been sort of a gift and a curse – He comes down feverish at midday, feeling himself grow warm and uncomfortable which he wishes he could chalk up to the Californian heat, but he can't.
Nervously scrolling through his phone, he checks the dates and the calendar.
“Fuck me,” He whispers to no one, right into the nothingness of his room. “Fuck this.”
If he was responsible and normal, he would inform Josh and Mark about an upcoming heat.
But he can't back away from the show, not when they've got everything ready – He takes suppressants, uses scent blockers. It's not good. He shouldn't be risking his body like that, he knows this, but he can't miss it.
They're backstage, and things suck.
All the staff are alphas, which is… well, to be expected. But… all the witnesses are alphas, musicians and producers and everything in between, everyone beyond the stage and the curtain isn't like Tyler. And that's worrisome.
Even more so as he feels himself grow sluggish with the passing hours.
By the time they're supposed to go on stage he can barely register that they're being set up, that there's someone retouching his makeup and his mask is nowhere to be seen. Josh fetches it from somewhere, looking anxious as he chews on mint gum. Tyler slips the mask on, grabbing his stole and feeling like taking sips out of the black paint to actually be sick this time.
A photographer approaches them halfway, snapping a few pictures, as he shuffles away he mumbles, “Smells fuckin’ good in here.”
Tyler swallows down the bile.
He checks his scent blockers but at this point he's on borrowed time. Realistically, his heat is sparking tonight, right as he's supposed to be on stage singing his heart out and performing like those judgemental eyes aren't just predators licking their fangs over their next meal.
It's all he can think about.
He feels like a rabbit; trapped, hunted, scared.
“Ty,” Josh calls from beside him, worried. “You… uhm, that you?”
Mindlessly, Tyler turns. “What?”
“The smell,” Josh taps his nose, scrunching it in slight discomfort. “It's potent.”
In the distance, right from the stage, the announcer's voice breaks through. “And tonight, to delight us all with their lovely presence and music, we have the duo of the decade! Twenty One Pilots!”
“Not me.” He mumbles, then he's running off.
Everyone's heads perk up the moment they come out, not only in slight admiration but something changes in the air. Even the presenter notices, awkwardly looking at them both before she walks off stage, her gaze lingering on Tyler as she leaves.
The track begins, there's no going back.
There's few unmated alphas in the crowd, Tyler can recognize most of them, but the very few make up for the majority when they follow him as he speeds across the stage and sits down at his piano. Tyler cringes at the slight dampness he feels when he sits down, squeezing his eyes shut as he messes up the note – It's not noticeable, not with how loud everything is, but it happened.
He's tender in the chest, the jacket is tight and itchy, his pants are stuffy. He's sweating buckets beneath the mask, black paint drips down his neck to his neck, from his hands to his elbows.
On his knees, he looks at the crowd as he follows the flow of the lyrics. One of the aforementioned alphas snaps his teeth at him from one of the rows, getting his pals to laugh and cackle.
Tyler grips his microphone as hard as possible, gritting his teeth. His I don't wanna yell scares some of the audience members.
By the time they're closing down with Car Radio he's barely present.
He doesn't know how he makes it off the stage, but the moment he's in the back all he can do is drop against one of the walls, relishing in the darkness that surrounds him. Breath coming in short, he unzips the jacket and winces as he runs a stained hand across his chest, swollen and tender.
Someone's talking to him, someone he doesn't recognize.
“You did well,” A voice says, deep and velvet. “See, we've got a party after this, you wanna join?”
And Tyler wants to shake his head no, wants to push him away and leave. But his scent is strong in the air and he's using it to his advantage, to trick Tyler's senses into giving in.
“Get away from him.”
Josh.
“We were just chatting, pal.”
A growl, Josh seems to push the guy backwards. Josh, the guy who once cried because he sat on his dog's tail. “I said back off.”
The moment of a stand off is broken when Tyler drops to the floor clutching his stomach.
Josh is with him then, lifting him up so easily and dragging him back to their dressing room. Mark's there, mumbling something about how it was all a mess and what the fuck did he take – Betas and their brains. Josh isn't playing around, he's picking up their stuff and announcing they won't be staying despite Mark's scandalized remarks about how the label won't be happy about that.
“I don't give a shit about the label, Mark.”
“Jesus,” Mark winces. “You really think he should go with you?”
Josh stares at him, dumbfounded. “Who else would he go with?”
“I dunno. Maybe we could call someone.”
Mark tries closing in on Tyler, his hand reaching out to check his temperature when Josh steps in between. He's quick, puffing his chest and baring his teeth. “Don't go any closer.”
“Fuck,” Mark steps back, worried frown in his face. “You'll regret this.”
“Have fun, Mark.”
While on the back of the car all Tyler can do is cling to Josh, nose at his neck and try to rip his damned clothes off but to no avail. The driver peers at them through the rear view, disapproving of their behavior but saying nothing about it.
During his previous heats Tyler locked himself away, went back home to pass the time and spend a hellish week bed ridden with no actual satisfaction. Toys and his own hands can only do so much for him, but his heats haven't been this strong since he passed puberty age. Usually he'll be able to speak, but this is different.
The books and the doctors have this thing about unmated middle aged omegas, they're often seen as a failure, as waste.
He knows it's not true. But at this stage of his life most everyone around him has someone, has kids and a life that they are content with. Tyler wants that life, someday, but he also wants to be an individual. He'd promised himself he would settle down sometime after he passed the twenties, but that didn't happen and his career only kept going uphill. He couldn't neglect that.
Now, in his dazed state, he believes it's his body retaliating for the neglect.
Josh practically carries him indoors. Tyler has half the mind to realize he's still in his show clothes, including his mask which is just sitting atop his head.
He's not in his bed. The smell alone makes it abundantly clear that he's in Josh's bedroom, Tyler twists around the mattress and grabs onto the sheets, burying his face into them. Josh is somewhere in the room, moving and doing God knows what.
“Tyler,” He calls. “Ty.”
“Josh…”
“Yeah, there you are. I need you to do something for me.”
“ ‘m… don't feel so good.”
“I know, I know,” Josh is sweet with his tone, calm and patient. “I'll help you. But first, I need to know you're consenting to this.”
Is he? Tyler isn't sure about what he's supposed to say. His body is going to give out on him if he doesn't get any help, he'll survive, of course, but it'll be a torturous couple of days.
With an alpha to help, he'll only have to suffer a few hours.
Whatever clarity he has left he uses to look at Josh, spread out on his bedsheets and panting, eyes watery and crazed. “I consent, Josh.”
“Fuck,” Josh groans, shaking his head. “Lemme help you, baby. Come on.”
He's quick with his hands, peeling every single layer off Tyler's body one by one.
Tyler looks like a work of art. He's all stained black from his makeup, his eyelashes hold a constellation of tears in them and his tanned skin glows against the dim lights of Josh's bedroom. The moonlight that creeps in adds a blue hue to the scenery that makes him look almost ethereal.
His scent is strong, stronger than it's ever been.
An orchard, the sweetest apples you've ever tasted in your life, combined with vanilla and a slight hint of smoke. There's the underlying smell of glitter gel pens, the ones that smell like fruit, and the fur of a kitten.
“Goodness,” Tyler whines, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Josh,”
“It's okay,” Josh nods. “Relax for me.”
He knows it's a hard thing to ask for, but Tyler's so good, such a good boy – He tries so hard.
Josh stares at the bright red, almost neon, tights that Tyler wears underneath his clothes to stage. They've always driven him crazy, like a man seeing a deer in the woods – He's able to picture the red target perfectly. Josh doesn't want them off, no.
Instead he rips them around Tyler's groin, right in between the legs.
For a minute he'd forgotten that he's still clothed too, which he takes care of in seconds. He's nude and aching, hovering above Tyler while studying him for any sign of uncertainty. All he finds is the pained look of desire placed upon someone so beautiful. And he has never been able to deny Tyler of anything, so he won't deny him of this.
He kisses Tyler and it's not sweet, it's mouthfuls of teeth and tongues. Gnashing and biting and spitting. Tyler swallows around Josh's tongue, tasting his saliva and drinking it in.
“You're the most beautiful,” Josh gasps as they part, unsure if Tyler's listening. “Most beautiful omega.”
Tyler cracks his eyes open, looking up at him all wide and deer-eyed. “Alpha…”
His voice is already beautiful. A gem. Josh's favorite sound in the world, possibly. But hearing Tyler whisper at him like that, the name Josh has been aching to be called ever since they met, since he's harbored this crush – It does something to his psyche, and he can't stop himself.
Tyler is manhandled onto his stomach, arching back against Josh and presenting without having to be told to do so.
Josh plants kisses across Tyler's spine, tasting sweat and candied apples. “Again,” He exhales. “Call me that again, baby.”
“Alpha,” Tyler whines, louder this time. “Alpha – Do something!”
“Shh, shh. Relax.”
His cooing works, kind of. Tyler winds down, sniffling into the pillows.
Josh ignores Tyler's ass, though he adores it very much, for the sake of being at face value with Tyler's dripping folds. Right in between his legs there's another scent patch, and when Josh noses against it he's overwhelmed by the scent of his slick and his skin, sweet and potent.
He licks it, nibbles at it, marks it.
The scent just grows stronger, Josh's head spins. His senses are overwhelmed. His inner alpha brain just screams at him to take take take, to overpower Tyler and get what he needs. But that's not how he wants to do it.
So, Josh licks around the outer edge of Tyler's folds, rejoicing at how Tyler melts against his touches and perversion.
He presses his thumb against Tyler's clit, all the while his tongue punctures into Tyler's cunt. His hole is dripping and only gets worse as Josh begins to eagerly eat him out, he'll never grow tired of tasting him now, and if it doesn't happen again then he's quite sure he'll never be able to forget how Tyler tasted. He'll never be able to find someone like him again.
Tyler has his first orgasm like that – Soaking his thighs and Josh's mouth and face with his slick.
“More,” Tyler grunts, now having regained a bit of his clarity. He's pawing at Josh, twisting himself around. “You stupid alpha, come on.”
Josh laughs, dark and humored. “That's not very nice.”
“I'm not nice,” Tyler's adorable baring his teeth, frowning his brow as deep as it'll go. “Knotheaded beast, get on with it.”
There's that Tyler Josh adores so much.
“Say the magic word.”
“Cunt.”
“Not that one. I can see yours already, I know it's there.”
“Fucking asshole.”
Josh continues on laughing. He grabs onto the base of his cock, biting back a moan as he presses down. He brings it to Tyler's cunt, enjoying the way his breath hitches and how he tries to grind down.
As he rubs his cock across his pussy, Josh murmurs into Tyler's ear, “All you have to do is say the word, Ty. Then I'll give you what you need.”
A storm of conflict shows up in Tyler's gaze.
One of the main reasons as to why Josh had been driven to Tyler was that he was no common omega. Josh had met a bunch of the normal type, the ones that expect princess treatment and are looking to get settled down, to meet the alpha of their dreams.
But Tyler wasn't like that.
He was peculiar, always nervous and fidgeting and at times downright rude. He didn't mind mouthing off, he didn't care about what most people thought of him and he surely never cared about what alphas thought of him. When they'd been introduced he'd barely even paid attention to Josh after having smelled him off the bat, Josh pursued him later on, insisting that he wanted to be friends.
The point is – Tyler Joseph doesn't say please.
Not to alphas, at that.
And Josh isn't a monster, whether Tyler says it or not he'll help him, give him what he wants. But it's fun to toy with him like this, even if it's just a little cruel.
“Please,” Tyler sounds small, like a child throwing a tantrum and then apologizing. “Please, Josh. Knot me, please?”
Triumphantly, Josh beams.
“If that's what you want, baby.”
The head of his cock nudges at Tyler's entrance, Josh has to bite his lip to the point of bleeding as he begins sheathing himself in.
Tyler's tight, of course he is. And Josh comes to the realization that he's practically taking his virginity – That makes his head spin, knowing he's the first alpha in Tyler's life to ever get him like this.
His cock squeezes into Tyler's tight walls, stretching him open and making him grimace with every inch. Josh soothes him kindly, cooing at him and kissing his shoulder as he buries himself deeper and deeper. The slick helps, though it makes the whole thing noisier, and Tyler's producing an imaginable amount by the time Josh has buried himself to the hilt with one final thrust.
He gives Tyler time to breathe, to get used to the feeling. Tyler doesn't like that.
"Fucking move,” Tyler demands, though he sounds adorable as it breaks into whiny moans. “Do I have to – haah – teach you to fuck?”
“You? The virgin?”
The crimson flush that spreads down Tyler's neck and back is delectable. He goes quiet for a second. “Fuck you, Josh.”
Josh smiles, kissing Tyler's hair. “Maybe next time.”
The first thrusts are sharp, almost rehearsed. Josh doesn't want to hurt him, despite how bad his instincts are telling him to go for it.
Tyler isn't happy with this, but he's stopped complaining. He's been reduced to sharp cries and soft moans, beautiful noises that Josh wouldn't complain about if he added them to their songs – He's slick with sweat and his own juices, his scent clinging to his skin and Josh's sheets.
Tyler blooms beautifully around his cock, that's Josh's cue to go harder.
His hands are bruising Tyler's hips as he begins speeding up, the sound of skin slapping makes for a good melody as they harmonize with their moans. Josh feels like he's coming down with a fever the more he piledrives into Tyler's pussy, relishing on the slick dripping down and sticking his cock to the point where they're downright slippery.
It does accidentally slip out of Tyler, just once, but Tyler's a drama queen. “No, no, no – Josh! Don't be unfair!”
“Shit, Ty. Just an accident.”
He's soothed when it's back inside him, but Josh can't help but save the imagery of Tyler begging for his cock into a secret folder of his mind.
At some point Tyler's tired, clearly. Josh helps him onto his side, hiking one of his legs up with his hand under his knee. Still joined together, at this angle Tyler feels him even deeper, all the way to the throat – or so he mumbles.
Tyler's second orgasm ripples through him like waves during a storm. He clenches around Josh's cock, trapping him in. He's squirting all over the sheets and Josh's legs as he shakes like cold jelly, whining and moaning and crying. It doesn't seem to sate him, though, if anything this only spurs Tyler to beg for more.
“Knot,” Tyler urges. “Now.”
“I don't know if we should–,”
“Quit it,” Tyler barks. “Knot me.”
Josh, half worried, half mad, nods at him.
He switches the positions again, this time he drops Tyler onto his back, grabbing his legs and folding them in.
Like this he now can pay attention to Tyler's chest, sucking one of his nipples into his mouth, letting his tongue do the work as he slips back inside the man. His free hand gropes the other breast, Tyler wincing in slight pain but relaxing against the touches eventually.
He gives it all he has. Tyler's louder than he was, reverberating off the walls.
Josh's hips burn and his thighs ache but he can't stop. He noses at Tyler's stained neck, licking around the paint and the exposed flesh – It's an odd taste, one he's not so sure would taste as good if they weren't so into the moment. But he doesn't care. Not when Tyler cranes his neck, exposing his scent glands and inviting him in.
His cock brushes against Tyler's g spot, again and again and again. Josh feels him clench, feels him aching for his knot.
“Tell me,” Josh pants, forehead pressed against Tyler's collarbones. “Say you want it.”
Tyler drags his nails down Josh's back, slick with paint, forming scratches. His voice is close to Josh's ear, soft and high pitched and downright filthy. “Give me your knot, alpha.”
Josh feels it swell, catching at Tyler's entrance and squeezing itself into his cunt.
It's the best feeling he's ever felt.
His knot swells and settles inside Tyler, who kicks his legs and hooks them around Josh's hips, trapping him in.
Josh's warm, sticky seed floods Tyler's insides, his cock spurts and twitches. It's the most he's ever come in his life, and he knows he should've worn a condom but now it's too late. Tyler has his third orgasm and shakes in Josh's arms as his body winds down, finally coming down from its heat struck state.
Silence. The sound of their harsh breaths and the ceiling fan makes up for it.
As much as Josh would love to get up and clean Tyler up, he can't. The knot will lock them together for a couple hours, and if Tyler's like this then by the time it comes down he'll want it again.
For now, Tyler cards his fingers through Josh's grimy hair, soft and careful.
“We stay like this?”
“Yes, baby. I'll stay here.”
Tyler sighs, content and full. Finally sated. “Love you, Josh.”
“I love you, Tyler.”
—
They're in Cincinnati, Josh nervously paces around the hotel room.
Tyler comes out of the bathroom, his eyes glued to the stick in his fingers. Josh looks at him, chest collapsing and expectancy burning hot inside his throat.
“It's negative,” Tyler says, showing him the pregnancy test. “We're good.”
Josh sighs, unsure of how he should be feeling. He didn't expect to feel disappointed, but he does, and he can't tell why. All he does is sit on the bed, nodding at Tyler then staring at his own hands.
Shyly, he asks. “You sure?”
“This is the fifth brand I try, Josh.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”
Tyler sits beside him, brows furrowed.
“You're not happy?”
“I'm happy,” Josh smiles, or tries to, at least. “It's just – Dunno, alpha brain, maybe.”
“We're not even mated–,”
“I know that, I just,”
"– But you could get on with it and we can keep trying.”
Josh's eyes snap up at Tyler, that usual look he gets when he's joking but trying to be serious is nowhere to be seen. Tyler is serious about it.
“Really?”
Tyler nods, he stands and begins to undress. Josh swallows harshly, they've had sex a few times since they spent Tyler's heat together and now they're on tour, where they don't get many chances or nice hotel rooms like this one.
He's salivating by the time Tyler gets down to his panties.
"So? Do you wanna try?”
“Yes,” Josh nods, like an overexcited dog. “Lemme – Just, yeah.”
Tyler laughs at him, vivid and bright. His eyes narrow and shine, he's glowing in the mid afternoon sun.
Josh can't wait to tell Mark how little he regrets about all of this.