Billy has no idea what the Russian means and it doesn’t matter in the face of the hands on his jeans, tugging at the denim in an attempt to get them off and Billy cooperates as best he can while his uncoordinated hands shove at Dmitri’s jacket and tug at the hem of his top, trying to get the beta undressed.
As soon as he feels teeth on his skin, he goes lax, head lolling to the side to expose this throat to him.
He grumbles in the wake of greedy hands, something almost like a growl, but as soon as he's gotten the other's jeans down he strips off his own jacket and shirt, a throatier rumble escaping when Billy practically melts.
"Foolish threat. Wouldn't kill you, only make you uncomfortable."
He speaks like he actually knows what he's talking about, but then he's spent a lot of time in a prison camp. There are very specific rules for how heats work in a prison camp.
He inhales his scent, memorizes it thoroughly before sucking a mark into the skin, following an instinctive need to mark him that he doesn't think about too closely. Better not to, it gets too complicated otherwise.
“It’d feel like dying.” It’s not often that Billy spends his heats alone but when he does, the worst days have him convinced death would be better than being alone. It doesn’t help that it feels like this heat has come out of fucking know where and he hasn’t had one since before the Mind Flayer.
It’s all just a lot on his senses and he feels overwhelmed by it all in the best way.
He moans when Dmitri sucks a bruise into his flesh and he wishes it were a bite, but he doesn’t ask, doesn’t risk that when this is literally brand new. “We gonna talk about it or are we gonna do it?”
The moan sends a shiver down the Russian's spine, has him humming approvingly in answer. He licks over the new bruise soothingly, presses a kiss just behind his ear, and starts tracing fingers along his skin. Up along his ribs, down along his spine, cupping the curve of his ass before dipping fingers between his cheeks to seek the damp between his legs he knows is waiting.
"Fuck me now, tease me later." That made sense, right? Once his heat fully hit in, he wouldn't really care what Dmitri did to him, as long as he was touching him. Billy's dripping wet and he whines as soon as those fingers brush over his pussy, spreading his legs as much as he can where they're still trapped in his tight jeans.
He chuckles, the smell of the younger man's slick heady and intoxicating. So he slides fingers against him again, pressing harder against the folds, teasing and promising in equal measure as he sucks another mark into his skin, teeth nipping sharply before he retreats again. It's only to get Billy's jeans the rest of the way off, however, tugging off shoes then jeans with rough efficiency before shoving his own pants down, revealing a sizeable bulge in his boxer briefs before leaning in to nip and lick his way up the younger man's thighs towards his core and settling between his legs.
"I'm not sure you're quite sincere enough," he quips as he smirks up at him before licking into him, savoring the taste of him on his tongue.
The sound Billy makes is pornographic, head thunking back against the wall behind him as he fights not to clamp his thighs around the beta's head. His hand finds Dmitri's hair, not tugging or pushing but just holding while his other hand scrabbles at the wall, trying to find purchase.
"You can pull if you like," Dmitri offers, smirking against the younger man before darting his tongue inside him again, a firm stroke, only pausing long enough to suck on his clit, following with a teasing swirl of his tongue before he quests again for the slick he knows is there. He settles into a rhythm of sorts before adding a finger, keeping his mouth on his clit as he works first one finger and then a second inside with a slow, experimental pace.
Almost as if the permission was all he needed, Billy immediately tugs on Dmitri's hair. His legs are already shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright with the constant stimulation on his clit and the finger pressing deeply inside him.
"Fuck, fuck." He grinds down onto that finger, pressing himself against Dmitri's tongue. "More, please."
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As soon as he feels teeth on his skin, he goes lax, head lolling to the side to expose this throat to him.
“I think I’d die if you did.”
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"Foolish threat. Wouldn't kill you, only make you uncomfortable."
He speaks like he actually knows what he's talking about, but then he's spent a lot of time in a prison camp. There are very specific rules for how heats work in a prison camp.
He inhales his scent, memorizes it thoroughly before sucking a mark into the skin, following an instinctive need to mark him that he doesn't think about too closely. Better not to, it gets too complicated otherwise.
no subject
It’s all just a lot on his senses and he feels overwhelmed by it all in the best way.
He moans when Dmitri sucks a bruise into his flesh and he wishes it were a bite, but he doesn’t ask, doesn’t risk that when this is literally brand new. “We gonna talk about it or are we gonna do it?”
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"Don't know. Teasing has some appeal, yes?"
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"C'mon, please. Please."
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"I'm not sure you're quite sincere enough," he quips as he smirks up at him before licking into him, savoring the taste of him on his tongue.
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"Fuuuuck yes. Holy shit. Don't stop."
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"Fuck, fuck." He grinds down onto that finger, pressing himself against Dmitri's tongue. "More, please."