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Ishir tried to gasp. “I need—” he choked out as Zee’s hand wrapped around his throat.
“I know what you need,” Zee rumbled.
Ishir wheezed a thready, whining noise, and Zee grabbed his jaw, stuffing two fingers inside his mouth, pushing down on his tongue.
A second later, Zee’s knot was growing, stuffing Ishir full, and Zee came with a howl.
Ishir sobbed. The pressure was too much, lighting him up. He followed after Zee, spilling between them.
Zee collapsed over Ishir, shaking through his orgasm still.
Ishir closed his eyes and drifted off again.
**********
Ishir opened his eyes to Zee sitting next to him, a plate of something held in his hands.
“What’s that?” Ishir mumbled sleepily.
“A croissant from that place you like. I cut it up for you,” Zee replied.
Ishir sat up with a smile. “Oh. Nice, thanks.” He reached for the food, suddenly starving, but Zee moved it away.
“Let me,” he said. He was naked except for some briefs, and Ishir noticed they were straining, hiding Zee’s hard cock.
Ishir tilted, ravenous for something other than pastries, but Zee guided him away.
“Food first.”
Ishir snorted. “Really?”
“Yes. Really. And drink this.” Zee handed over a Gatorade—red, his favourite kind.
Ishir guzzled it down, the cold liquid heavenly on his throat. “Okay, that was good,” Ishir admitted.
Zee looked immensely pleased, taking the bottle from him and setting it aside. He picked up a flaky piece of croissant and held it up to Ishir’s lips.
Ishir couldn’t open his mouth, frozen. His mind had blanked out, nothing in it but the foam of white noise. He’d expected Zee to be possessive, protective—a caregiver, in a pushy sort of way. But this?
This was the stuff mates did for each other.
Zee held just as still, but Ishir could see the uncertainty creeping into his expression.
Ishir parted his lips. The relief on Zee’s face was obvious as he carefully placed the morsel on Ishir’s tongue.
It was buttery and perfect. Ishir chewed carefully, gaze never parting from Zee’s. He swallowed and offered himself up again.
This time, Zee crowded close, manoeuvring them so Ishir’s back was pressed to Zee’s front, Zee winding their limbs together, chin resting on Ishir’s shoulder so he could watch him eat.
It was a lot. Ishir left his muscles loose, letting himself be fed piece by piece. A bowl of strawberries followed, and when that was done, Ishir licked the juice from Zee’s fingers, eyes closed, mind far away.
Zee rumbled, an Alpha noise usually reserved for the most satisfying of ruts or, again, formates.
He snuffled into Ishir’s neck, licking and biting him as if he couldn’t get enough. His hard cock pressed against him, and Ishir turned in his arms, grabbing the lube long enough to get both of them wet and then sitting on Zee’s hard length in one smooth move.
They groaned in unison. Ishir stayed there for a while, just feeling the stretch, the way they fit perfectly together. Zee let him even though it must have been painful, slotting into a tight, warm space and being unable to fuck into it.
“You feel good,” Ishir whispered into the side of Zee’s face.
