Back arching. Feline.

Head thrown back toward the ceiling. Mouth hanging open, gasping, panting.

Hands clutching at white bed sheets, fingers digging in. Trembling.

Thinking,

this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He should've been spending his heat with an alpha. Someone who towered over him, pinned him to the bed. Bit his lips. Pulled his hair.

It wasn't unusual for omegas who were close to discover that their heat cycles had become in sync. What was unusual, however, was for those omegas to decide to spend their heat together.

But when faced with that smile, those shining sky blue eyes, how could he have told his best friend no?

As a mateless omega, he found that each passing heat was harder to withstand than the one before it. When he was younger, he found that simply not thinking about it would be enough. After that, hands. After that, toys.

Now, not even that could satisfy him.

He told himself that at least this was better than seeking out some random alpha and risking becoming pregnant with the child of someone who never wanted to see him again.

His fingers found themselves tangled in the head of sunny blond hair between his thighs, and his breath hitched at the sensation of that hot tongue slowly, teasingly dragging over his entrance. Something coiled in the pit of his stomach, his hips bucking before his mind even had a chance to catch up.

"A-Alfred-!"

His heat-frenzied mind was all too aware of the burning, burning, wanton burning, but Alfred's tongue seemed to douse the flames, if only for a moment. Wet slick rolled down his thighs, only to be lapped up along with the rest.

And then suddenly the tongue was replaced by prodding fingers. Arthur squirmed as the first finger pressed into him. It felt different to have someone else doing it. It wasn't much, yet, but it was foreign enough to leave him craving more.

A gasp slipped past his lips, and as the first finger was joined by a second and third, knuckles deep, scissoring and rubbing against his walls, it was replaced by a breathy, "Fuck."

"That's the intention, Artie," Alfred all but purred.

It was strange to see his best friend's eyes so clouded with lust, but the sight stirred something within him that might have worried him if it weren't for his heat-raddled brain stating its approval by sending another shockwave of pleasure through him, demanding more.

The air was thick with Alfred's own heat scent. He never thought he'd find another omega's pheromones so intoxicating, after all, he was meant to be naturally attuned to alpha pheromones, wasn't he? Yet, he couldn't deny the desire that bubbled up within him to have the other omega closer.

Alfred removed his fingers, and Arthur felt he'd never been so empty. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the American was suddenly hovering over him, and then their lips met.

There was no hesitation, no shy, brief pecks. It was hot, feverish, lewd from the start. Their tongues sliding together, the taste of Alfred in his mouth. His fingertips caressing Arthur's cheek, the delicate skin of his throat, dancing across his collarbone and then sliding leisurely down his body and between his legs.

The hand stroking his cock pulled a breathy moan from him, and Alfred responded with something close to a growl. Teeth nipped at his bottom lip, then grazed at his throat, and Arthur was again reminded that this was, in fact, another omega with him.

"I'm trying to do it like an alpha would," Alfred spoke into his ear, as though reading his mind. Arthur could almost feel the smirk in his next words. "Though, I gotta admit, seeing you squirming like this is bringing out something animalistic in me..."

As if to prove his point, he dragged his tongue along the sensitive skin of Arthur's throat, then sucked on the spot, relishing in the noises that escaped the Brit's mouth, leaving the first of presumably many hickies to come.

Arthur's hands roamed the American's chest and anything he could manage to reach beneath that with their bodies pressed flush together, leaving only enough room for Alfred to do as he pleased. He marvelled at the muscles, the shoulders that were broader than his own. He was no alpha, but Alfred had always had an interest in sports, and he could see that the efforts had paid off.

Alfred caught his wrists and pinned his hands above his head. Arthur thought he could get used to the sight of Alfred's face inches from his own, blue eyes half-lidded and dark.

"Don't worry about me for now," he said, voice unusually husky. "For now, I want you to lay back and feel.. everything..."

His words dripped like honey. Arthur had no complaint as Alfred moved off of him and hands tugging at his waist easily flipped him onto his stomach.

His back arched, catlike, so his ass was in the air, and then Alfred was lining himself up.

He could only manage a strangled gasp as Alfred's cock pressed into him. It was nothing like his fingers, and it was nothing like his toys, and oh God it filled him so wonderfully-

Alfred sheathed himself fully to the hilt. He paused, groaning, his fingers gripping Arthur's hips feeling like they'd leave bruises, before he pulled back almost entirely. Arthur almost whined at the loss of contact but it was slamming back into him almost immediately, propelling him forward with a pleasured moan.

Alfred soon fell into a steady rhythm, rocking into him deeply, with Arthur pressing back and meeting him with each thrust. His face was pressed against the mattress, saliva drooling out the corner of his mouth but he didn't care, not with that magnificent thickness pounding into him and Alfred's hot presence looming over him.

The American's angle suddenly changed, and he was thrusting straight into the smaller omega's prostate. Arthur couldn't help the scream that ripped from his throat as white-hot pleasure continued to erupt within him. All these sensations were too overwhelming – Alfred's stomach pressed against his back, his hand which was once again pumping his cock, the stars dancing across his vision.

"Ah.. Hah... A-Alfred g-gonna-!" The words refused to form and it seemed the only thing that would pass out his lips were unintelligible mewls. Alfred was no better, panting as his thrusts quickened their movement.

He seemed to understand Arthur's unspoken statement. "M-Me too," he managed, breath against the back of Arthur's neck.

Arthur found himself being swiftly flipped over again. Alfred remained inside him as he landed on his back with a small gasp, and suddenly they were face to face and Alfred was kissing him, deep and passionate. From this position he found that he could hook his legs around Alfred's waist and pull him in impossibly closer. Skin slapped against skin roughly as Alfred pressed deeply into him, continuing to abuse his prostate until Arthur couldn't take it anymore, and with a final screamed moan into Alfred's mouth, white exploded across his vision as he came across both their stomachs.

The tightening of his muscles brought Alfred to his climax as well, and all of a sudden his mouth was on Arthur's shoulder and as his hips stilled and hot liquid filled him from the inside, sharp teeth dug into his skin enough to draw blood.

Arthur's eyes widened, and in response he raked his nails down the American's back, sure that they left angry red marks of their own.

It was a mating mark. Alfred had claimed him.

But he was an omega.

It would heal.

They spent the rest of the week together, taking turns topping. In between that, they would lie beneath the covers, and Alfred would pull him close and press chaste kisses against his forehead, nose, cheeks, lips; wherever he could reach. And like that, they would fall asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms, their legs tangled together.

It was obvious to Arthur that it was the most satisfying heat he'd ever had, and though he imagined they couldn't be properly sated, as they weren't alphas and couldn't knot, it was enough.

He was disappointed when it was over.

And as Alfred packed his things away and prepared to go home when the week ended, his cheeks reddened in a blush that was uncharacteristic for the American.

He was embarrassed, Arthur told himself.

"Well, uh, that was fun," he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously, his eyes gleaming with mirth behind the glasses he'd chosen to abandon throughout the heat. "We should do it next time, as long as we still don't have mates..."

"Um, yes," Arthur mumbled, realizing Alfred was waiting for a response. At that, the sunny blond grinned his famous thousand-watt smile and Arthur, with dread, felt something bloom in his chest.

"Sweet!" Alfred exclaimed, grasping his shoulders and pulling Arthur into a tight hug. Somehow it felt too intimate, which it shouldn't have, considering their earlier actions.

"We should meet up later and go see a movie or something. I'll see if Mattie and Francis wanna come too!"

"S-Sounds great," Arthur said, voice strained.

When Alfred released him, his touch lingered longer than a friend's should have.

And his grin mellowed slightly, replaced by something softer, as he murmured,

"Y'know, if I was an alpha, I would want you to be my mate."

Somehow, his particular wording hurt.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

It was so wrong.

It wasn't part of the plan to fall in love.

Um okay so this is my first time writing smut? I'd love to know if I did okay.
Personally I feel it was a little rushed, but then again I've seen smut scenes that lasted like two lines so...
I feel like my writing is too poemy, or maybe I should say lyrical, to properly write hot and dirty smut. I tend to write my stories as though they're poetry, which my friend said is cool. I'd leave you a better example than this but I'd rather not link my smut account with my regular one in any way..
Let me know what you think !