Rise.

Blaszni was sick of looking out the window, but there wasn't a whole lot else to do. Midday programming on television was restricted to logistical announcements, war reports, and other news broadcast by the Empire or the Louts, and Blaz really had no interest in any of it. He'd braided his hair earlier, then unbraided it, then brushed it through with a hot brush and it was now sitting in a topknot at the center of his head. He looked at the chrono. It was almost 5. Time for his husband to arrive home. Blaszni looked down at his hands. They were trembling. He got to his feet, tightened the sash around his waist, and made his way into the bedroom. He'd been bored all day, secretly hoping his mate would come home earlier, but also dreading the inevitable arrival.

His mate would be primed, he knew, at the moment of arrival - something Blaz both loved and hated about him. Blaszni had been mated to Dorano for almost seven months now, litterless, and he and his mate had developed a dynamic which was...unique, to say the least. Blaz often wondered if perhaps the spirits had not been so wrong in choosing him for Dorano's gift after all.

The door clicked, and Blaz scrambled from the chair he'd been in by the window to the bed, where he had been ordered to greet his mate. Collapsing prone into bed, he feigned sleep until he felt Dorano's heavy weight stretch above him and woody scent draw close. A quick snap of the teeth drew the blankets away from Blaz's shoulders, cast them to the side.
"Sleeping, little one? There's penalty for that."
Dorano nipped Blaz's shoulder lightly, startling him and drawing a smile to his face.
"Just obeying orders, my alpha."
"I said in bed, not asleep. Get up." The nip was not so light this time, and Blaz jerked his shoulder away before his mate could bruise. Stretching, he rolled over within the confines of his mate's arms and faced him. The soft fabric of the papery thin robe rubbed and bunched between them, amplifying the sexuality of the scene, causing Dorano to grow harder against him. His wolfe lowered himself onto his elbows, resting most of his weight on Blaszni.
"Are you prepared?" Dorano growled out, close to his ear.
Heartbeat suddenly rapid, Blaszni nodded, put one hand to his wolfe's chest for reassurance. Dorano eyed him, then roughly separated his legs with one knee and pushed the robe up to his waist. Blaszni raised his hips a bit, ever ready to play the ribald, but tensed again as his wolfe unceremoniously slid one finger into his only-sort-of-damp entrance.
"Not enough."
"Then maybe you - "
"It'll do."
Before further suggestion could be made, his mate was plunging balls-deep inside him and Blaz sucked in a tight breath.
"Dorano - "
The wolfe's head was down, its possessor delighting in all the delicious ecstasy of the moment and too busy to mind his mate.
"Dorano - "
Blaz pushed a little at his shoulder, which made him groan and, biting twice at his mate's ear, demand:
"Use my title."
"My Alph - "
The next words were cut off because Dorano was moving now inside him, deep thrusts, not the gentle seesaw of younger men, hitting twice the spot that seemed too sensitive inside him - would it always be that way? - and almost painful, then, unguided, finding the point of perfect impact in his depths. Blasz bit his lip, found it hurt, and chose his mate's shoulder instead. This seemed to set fire to his wolfe, and Dorano thereafter delivered every inch to Blaszni without mercy or pause.

One or two particularly aimed thrusts made Blaz's eyes water just a bit, but he bit down harder on Dorano's skin and raised his legs around his mate's back to compensate until he adjusted to a more manageable position. They didn't talk now, only growled and groaned and made soft noises of pleasure or disdain as each fought to best the other.

Blaz had already come once when Dorano began to knot inside him, so he shifted and whined at the swelling until his mate grew tired of the whispered complaints and growled once at his neck, a singularly pointed warning. Blaszni held his tongue, and by the time the knotting was through, he was close to peaking once more himself. Dorano groaned as the knot faded, thrust four times more into his mate, then came, expending himself completely as his orgasm reverberated through him. The slick, hot, entirely erotic feeling of his mate's surge inside of him set Blaszni off, and he burst over the edge seconds behind him.
Dorano flipped off of his mate, stretching diagonal across the bed from where they'd ended up, his head towards the right left footend. Still panting and buzzed, he waved weakly at Blaszni.
"Go and wash."
Blaszni whined a complaint.
"Now, Blaszni. Get up and go rinse yourself out."
Blaszni didn't move to leave, only sat up and lowered his voice.
"Alpha, please."
Dorano raised his head, his eyes serious.
"Blaszni, no. You know that what you want is not a possibility at this time. Go now and rinse yourself."
Blaz rubbed at the skin on his shoulder, didn't move.
"Your alpha has given you a command, Blaszni. Do you disobey?"
Blaz shook his head fervently and got up immediately to make his way to the bathing rooms, his robe (now wrinkled) falling in messy pleats and hanging off of one shoulder. Halfway to the door, he paused and turned slightly to his wolfe.
"It's just a silly tradition, Alpha. It doesn't mean it's real."
Dorano listened for his footsteps to fade into the other room before answering.
"I cannot say for sure, little one, whether or not I know of a single thing that's real."

~:~