Chapter Text
In the Rebellion, you have to get used to the scent of omega in heat. In the struggling resistance group, supplies are limited, even medical necessities like suppressants. They run out fairly often, and the omegas have to deal with their heats naturally, either by finding a willing partner or riding it out alone. It's not unusual for an entire base to spend a tense few days dealing with such a thing, though there have never been any really bad reactions as far as Wes is aware of. They all know what they're doing; they can control themselves.
And that is what has Wes fidgeting alone in his room tonight. There's an omega in heat somewhere in the catacombs of the ship where Red Squadron is currently based, and the smell is making him antsy and, yes, horny. He's spending a moment figuring out whether to go find someone to help him take care of that little problem or just do it himself when there's a hesitant knock at his door.
Wes does his best to make himself presentable – which isn't much with the steadily growing erection he's sporting – opens the door, and is smacked by a wall of omega pheromones so strong he can't see through them for a moment. Then he blinks and of all people it's Wedge who swims into focus standing there, a scratchy blue Rebellion-issued blanket around his shoulders that does nothing at all to block his scent. His brown eyes are blown wide, his face flushed, and sweat sticks his hair to his temples.
“It's you,” Wes says dumbly.
He hadn't thought it was possible, but Wedge's flush deepens. “It's me,” he admits, voice hoarse, and it makes a shiver go through Wes. “Can I-?” Wedge gestures vaguely, one arm poking out from his blanket cloak.
“Oh, come in, come in.” Wes steps aside and closes the door behind his friend. “What can I...?” Usually this sort of visit would mean only one thing, but considering it's Wedge, Wes isn't so sure. Maybe he just wants...moral support?
“Thanks.” Wedge licks his lips again and shivers, looking everywhere but at Wes. Then he finally does look at him, and Wes hardly knows what to think when his friend and squadronmate's eyes land on his cock, straining at the confines of his baggy sleep pants now.
Wes suddenly wishes he had his own blanket to hide under. “What can I, um, do for you, Wedge?” he asks.
Wedge groans. “I can't do this,” he mutters, eyes skittering away. “I can't-” He growls in frustration, and there's a bit of a whine behind it that is definitely doing things to Wes. “I need help.”
“Yeah?” The response is breathless, almost disbelieving. Really, if that is what his friend wants, Wes will have no problem giving it to him. No problem at all.
“Yeah.” Wedge looks up at him again, all hesitation, as if he doesn't know what to do. He's always been one of the quiet ones, but it's strange to see him this shy. “Wes – please.”
A grin begins to grow on Wes's face, and he takes a step forward that has Wedge shuddering but not stepping back. Wes lays a firm hand on his shoulder and has to bite back a sound of pleasure at the way Wedge's dark lashes flutter as he sways into the alpha's touch. “Talk to me, Wedge,” he says. “Before we do anything, I gotta know exactly what you want.”
Wedge's gaze falls to the floor again, his eyes closing for a long moment as if he's gathering himself. “I want you to fuck me,” he says softly. “Knot me. Just-” He waves his hand. “Make this go away. I thought you wouldn't mind.”
“Wouldn't mind?” Wes actually laughs at that. “No, I don't mind getting to have sex with my hot friend to help him through a hard time.”
Wedge blushes riotously at that and takes a bold step toward him. “Please-”
But Wes holds him back, just for another moment. “No bond?” he clarifies, as if he needs to. Like a one-time helping-a-friend situation even constitutes a discussion of whether they're joining their lives and minds permanently here. “And no mating? Are you taking contraceptives?”
“I'll get an emergency pill in the morning,” Wedge murmurs. “I didn't exactly plan this.”
“Are you sure?”
Wedge nods, pressing a tiny bit closer, and something in Wes's gut lurches because he would never be acting this way normally.
“All right then.” Wes smiles and lays a hand on his friend's neck, letting the expression widen into a grin when Wedge shudders into the touch, skin hot and clammy under Wes's touch. “Let's get you taken care of.” He uses his grip to pull Wedge closer, wrapping his other arm around the omega's blanketed form and pulling him in for a kiss.
Wedge makes a surprised little noise against him as if somehow part of him hadn't realized this was what they were working up to, but then he's eager, lips working against Wes's, hand emerging from the blanket to clutch Wes's shirt. Wes deepens the kiss, licking into Wedge's mouth, and is gratified when he lets him, groaning loudly.
After several long, indulgent moments, Wes pulls back, his hands on Wedge's blanket. “Let's get this off you, hmm?” Wedge hesitates, biting his lip, and Wes laughs softly. “Kind of necessary for what we're going to do.”
Wedge drops his arms to let him, and Wes whisks off the blanket and tosses it into a chair, breathing in another strong wave of Wedge's scent now that even that weak barrier is gone. Beneath, he's wearing the same soft sleep clothes as Wes, already soaked with sweat at the neck and armpits and wet between his legs..
“Gods, you waited long enough, didn't you?” Wes murmurs, telegraphing his movements as he goes, reaching around him to drag gentle fingers across his eager hole beneath the damp cloth.
Wedge whimpers plaintively, looking thoroughly embarrassed by it. “Don't tease me,” he manages.
“Me, tease?” Wes chuckles. But not now, not when his friend clearly needs this so badly. “Clothes off, darling,” he says with a wink and doesn't hesitate to start pulling at his own.
He's already completely undressed by the time Wedge has removed his shirt, shoes, and socks and is hemming and hawing over his pants. “Need some help there?” Wes asks, and when Wedge doesn't protest, he slips his own thumbs under his waistband and pulls pants and underwear down together, letting Wedge step out of them before he rises again to enjoy the view.
Wedge is gorgeous, and Wes has half a thought to lament that he hasn't seen him like this sooner. His cock, smaller than Wes’s but longer than the average omega, stands begging for attention as the slick on his thighs catches the light deliciously. Wes grins in appreciation. “You've been holding out on me.”
Wedge ducks his head from where he'd been staring in return, mumbling something Wes doesn't catch but can guess well enough. “Come here, you.” Wes pulls him into his arms again, sealing their lips together as one hand goes to Wedge's cock, showering him with long, easy strokes that quickly have him pressing in for more.
“Please,” Wedge gasps against his lips. “I need-”
“I know what you need.” Wes's voice has gone husky as his mind moves on to the main event. He steps back, lets his hands fall away so his friend can focus. “How do you want to do this, Wedge?”
Wedge is breathing hard now, air whistling in and out of his throat as his tries to form a reply. “I...”
“You have done this before?” It suddenly strikes Wes that he may be about to deflower him, and the thought comes with an unexpected frisson of terror.
“I'm not a virgin!” Wedge grumps, and he sounds so much like his usual self that Wes has to laugh.
“Of course not. Not with that pretty face,” he teases. “But during your heat, though?” he adds more seriously, and Wedge nods. Wes pushes back the curious who? his mind whispers. “Okay, good. What worked for you then?”
Wedge chews the inside of his cheek for a long moment before replying. “I was on my hands and knees. I liked that. It was- it felt good.” He clamps his mouth shut.
“Okay.” Wes claps his hands together. “Hands and knees on the bed then.” He gestures, and when Wedge hesitates, gives him a smile. “Go on, don't be shy. The sooner you get over there, the sooner I'm inside you, and the sooner we have you taken care of.” He grins lasciviously.
Wedge flushes but scurries to obey, and Wes isn't quite prepared for the sight he makes as he positions himself on the bed, open and dripping, just waiting for Wes to fill him as his beautiful little cock hangs between his legs. Pretty as a picture.
“Look at you,” Wes breathes with a grin as he climbs onto the bed behind him, hands framing Wedge's hips, appreciating the little tremor that goes through him at the touch. “Never thought I'd see you like this.”
“Please,” Wedge gasps, pressing backwards into his touch. “Wes – I need it.”
“I've got you,” Wes promises. Fingers trail across Wedge's hip, the firm, smooth skin of his ass, pinching lightly as he goes, causing more tremors, then, oh yes, to his core, three fingers slipping inside without any resistance. Wes groans at the sensation, Wedge wet and hot around him, clenching down desperately.
“More, I'm ready, please-”
“I've got you,” Wes says again, and, assured Wedge's body is ready for him, he slides his fingers out, shushing the desperate keen his friend gives at their loss, and positions himself flush against Wedge, spread over him chest to back. “You sure you're ready?” he murmurs, a last confirmation, and when Wedge whines loudly and drops his head, he presses in.
Wedge's breath leaves him in a sharp moan, and Wes has to squeeze his eyes shut as he lets him adjust. It's been some time since he was with an omega in heat, and it's easy to forget how intense it is in the moment. He finally begins to move, easy thrusts in and out, and when he sees Wedge's hands bunching desperately in the bedclothes, speeding up, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.
“Yeah, 's good, so good,” Wedge sobs, and Wes is pretty sure he has no idea the words falling from his mouth in his pleasure. “Wes – c'mon-”
“Wedge, listen,” Wes gasps, even as his own touch stutters. “Let me turn you over, hmm? I'll make it good, I promise.”
“Yeah,” Wedge slurs, shivering against him. “Okay. I trust you.”
It should mean more, but in the moment Wes can only grin as he pulls out and manhandles Wedge onto his back before thrusting back inside. In this position, Wedge can wrap his legs tight around him and Wes can lean over him and thrust deeper as he gets a hand on his cock as well. “Good?” he pants, using everything he has to make it so.
Wedge can barely respond, whimpering and whining as he tosses his head against the pillow. Wes manages to catch his lips, drag him in for a kiss that starts gentle then quickly goes deep and dirty. Then a tiny adjustment has him hitting Wedge's prostate, and Wedge jerks away to cry out. Wes isn't bothered, just moves to his neck, licking and sucking and enjoying the way his friend's body shudders around him, telling him he's doing his job well.
“I'm – I'm close,” Wedge gasps, clutching at him, and Wes speeds his strokes, times them with deep, hard, precision thrusts to bring him over the edge, knows he's succeeded when Wedge lets out a strangled sob, going absolutely rigid against him for a moment before virtually melting back into the sheets.
Wes allows himself a smile as he watches contentment roll across his friend, his flushed face smooth with release. Only for a moment, though, before he's back to attending to his own needs. The fire in his belly scalds as he snaps his hips into Wedge, chasing his own release. So close, so close – there!
He presses his face closer to Wedge's neck, bites down hard as he pumps his seed into the other man, alpha instincts singing as his knot swells to keep it there.
And then, dimly, shouting.
“Wes! Wes, no-”
Still riding on a sea of pleasure and endorphins, it takes him a moment to realize that Wedge is struggling beneath him.
And then the explosion: it's like a thermal detonator goes off in Wes's brain, all light and feeling, and it's too much as he's flooded with overwhelming feeling and sensation he doesn't understand. He feels his heart freeze as he realizes what's happened. That that feeling is his mind connecting to Wedge's, a million intangible threads connecting their brainwaves. That bite, the one he hadn't meant to make...
It was a mating bite.
“Get off me!” Wedge's voice shakes as he pushes at Wes, and Wes scrambles to obey, pulls himself back as much as he can with his knot still tying them, rocking back on his haunches between Wedge's legs. His friend stares up at him, eyes wide and wet and shocked, face torn open, and Wes can feel as well as see what he's thinking.
There's shock there, yes, but fear and disgust as well. Violation, his mind cries. What has Wes done?
“You said you wouldn't – I didn't want – this!” Wedge fumbles for words as he suddenly tries to cover himself with his hands, hide his body in a way he can no longer can his mind.
Wes himself can barely breathe as he tries to focus, to figure out what he's done, how to make this right. You can't, he thinks numbly, because of course he can't. A chill runs through him at the thought. A bond is permanent. There's nothing to be done for it. Even if one of them dies, which is not unlikely, the other won't be able to bond again.
“Wedge,” he manages, his own voice hollow. “I didn't mean to. I'm sorry – I-”
“You didn't mean to?” Wedge demands, and Wes feels his anger like heat across the back of his head. “Fuck, Wes!” He has no words, but Wes senses everything he means to say through the bond. Not words, but swirling, dark feelings. The same things Wes himself feels, though without the crushing guilt.
“I'm sorry,” Wes mutters again, averting his eyes. The words are so inadequate. His entire body burns with shame. Even with all the battles he's come through, all the life or death situations, he's never wanted to be somewhere else more intensely. And yet there's the inexplicable union of their bodies that won't yield until the time is right.
“Kriff,” Wedge whimpers, the bond shifting, and oh, gods, there are tears on his face now, devastation and loss in his mind, and Wes knows what he's thinking. He's watching any future he may have had of someday bonding with someone he loves dissolve. Wes is under no illusions: he knows Wedge didn't come here tonight because he loves him. He came here before Wes isn't shy about sex and is presently unattached. That happy ending isn't meant to be theirs.
Wes risks a look back, and there are tears on Wedge's face. He feels the unmistakable urge to wipe them away or lay a hand on him, something to comfort his omega, and fuck, that's what Wedge is now, forever. His, even if the Rebels in general and Wes in particular don't look at omega ownership the way some cultures do. This is the person he's supposed to love and protect before anything else, and he's failed before he's even begun.
Wes squeezes his eyes closed, wills his knot to ease. He needs to be alone. He needs to figure this out, he needs to think, and he can't do that with Wedge falling apart under him, falling apart because of Wes's stupid mistake.
Then, finally, it's over, and Wes feels his body slacken and fall from Wedge, and in an instant his friend (if they can still be called that) is jerking away, throwing himself from the bed and retrieving his clothes, struggling to put them back on right with how badly he's shaking. Wes can only watch, beating down the intense urge to help, knowing how much he can't touch Wedge right now. Finally, Wedge manages to make himself look halfway decent, hides himself beneath the blanket again, and lurches for the door.
“Wedge!”
He turns back, and the expression on his face coupled with the feelings pulsing through the bond stops Wes cold. Angry. Betrayed. Broken. He's never seen an expression say so much at once. Words fail him.
Wedge turns away again and is gone.
Wes lets himself fall apart then, stripping the bed of its dirty covers with far more force than is necessary, biting out curses as he tosses them in a hamper and kicks aside his discarded clothes when he nearly trips on them. He follows them across the floor, realizing too late that it's easier to just use the shirt to wipe the sweat from his skin. The thought of going down to the communal showers, risking running into someone who might ask why he's so upset, is unbearable. He makes the bed again, trying to burn off some of his mood and energy by jerking the sheets taught in a way that would make his old Imperial Academy drillmasters proud.
When the room is made up again, like Wedge was never even there, there's nothing else to do. Wes shrugs into a clean set of pajamas and sinks down onto the edge of his bed, letting his head drop into his hands. Nothing has changed, of course. Wedge is still there in the back of his mind, like he will be forever, the bond full of a strange numbness now more than anything else. Shock, Wes's brain supplies. He supposes he's feeling that, too.