by the strange pull

Blessed Be These Unusual Alphas

Neuvillette helps Wriothesley with his rut.

CW: Contains Smut

--

Wriothesley had left very specific and clear instructions about his need for no visitors.

Sigewinne pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow before asking a rude and invasive question which was promptl answered with a door to the face. "Wriothesley," she'd said, too loudly to cut through the thick door, "If you need me to call—"

That was the last thing he needed. Or the first. Wriothesley was drowning in the burning heat of his pre-rut but there is still work to be done, budgets to balance, new intakes to process—really, the list just goes on and on. Never a dull moment. Never a day off, and so he pushes through despite the sweat that drips down his neck.

He isn't there yet. His rut. It still simmers at the edges of his being. It'll be a while before he's wholly indisposed, then he'll hole up and—

And what? Wriothesley swallows, pawing at his face. Sigewinne had, blessedly, not called upon Neuvillette for help but did manage to give him a suspicious bundle of his used clothing. It should not be a surprise. Wriothesley already had his foot in the door by offering up a shirt during Neuvillette's last rut, so it should be expected that Neuvillette would eventually return the favor.

So, the knock-. Wriothesley yanks the door open expecting to chew out Sigewinne for bothering him only to find a wide-eyed and pink-cheeked Neuvillette on the other side instead.

"I—" His hand is still held out, mid-knock.

"Sigewinne," assumes Wriothesley.

"Sedene, actually. Sigewinne went to her with a request for—well, you likely know by now. I figured that you would need... a change of..." Neuvillette's gaze drops to the bundle that he holds in his hands.

Wriothesley looks too and then swallows slowly. "Are those your official robes?"

Neuvillette clears his throat politely. "They are potent. I thought—" He breaks off, strangely embarrassed about this. "You took care of me during my last cycle, as indirect as it was. I did not want to waste the opportunity to return the favor. If you are keen for me to do so, that is."

Oh. That's—sweet. Wriothesley snorts softly because they've talked about this, the idea of spending their ruts together. The answer had been yes, of course. Why would they not? But like Neuvillette, this rut had snuck up on Wriothesley so suddenly that it left little room to prepare.

And now that it's nearly there the idea of it is daunting. Not that he doesn't want—no, no, Wriothesley wants. And Neuvillette does too because he stands there not as an alpha repulsed, but an alpha deeply aroused. There is no stench of distaste or even the sharp tang of wanting to dominate; Neuvillette is quiet, baring himself gently with a scent meant to entice.

"Neuvillette, I can't jack off into your robes." It'd be almost sacrilegious, as arousing as the idea is.

There is a small crack in Neuvillette's demeanor. His mouth twitches, curling at one end, amused. "It is not my only set, you know. If you wanted—"

"Do you want to come in?"

They both pause. Neuvillette's pupils widen and he clears his throat. "I—do you want me too? We've discussed this but if I..."

If he comes inside, he will not be leaving. They both know that. Another line in their courtship will be crossed.

Wriothesley rubs at the back of his neck. "There is no obligation for you to do so. I'm still working. I'm not quite there yet. I'm still in the lead-up to it. But..." He drags a hand down his face. "I can't focus, so your presence may help, at least. A little."