[art by me and CogitatingKerfuffle, July 2021]
The first thing Sören saw when he opened his eyes was Anthony's gold-flecked green eyes, watching him. They were the most beautiful eyes Sören had ever seen - mossy, cool yet somehow warm at the same time. And Sören's first thought was I could look into those eyes every morning.
That was a dangerous thought. They were strangers a few days ago. They still mostly were, getting to know each other slowly.
And yet, the adoring look in Anthony's eyes crossed leaps and bounds of knowledge. As did the feeling of being held safe in Anthony's arms.
It was still twilight - the sun wasn't up yet. Sören looked at the clock on the dashboard and sat up with a start. Sunrise was close enough, and with only four hours of daylight to work with, a two-hour drive to the Dettifoss, possibly three, would eat up half or most of that.
"We better get moving," Sören said.
Anthony nodded.
They didn't get on the road immediately - they both had to use the bathroom. While they weren't terribly far from the bathroom facilities at the camping site, the short walk in the brisk winter cold felt longer than it was. They also stopped in the kitchen to heat up their leftover fish-and-chips from yesterday, so they could have breakfast on the road. Anthony made coffee there, too.
Once Sören was at the driver's wheel and began pulling out of the campground, he felt a twinge of guilt. He remembered kissing Anthony last night at the Nature Baths, under the aurora. It had been the hottest, most erotic set of kisses in Sören's life to date, holding the promise of much, much more. Sören wanted him so badly - he'd been slick for Anthony all day, and he felt like a geyser in the hot spring, slick dripping down his thighs as they kissed, hole twitching, needing.
And then Sören had fallen asleep in the campervan. And Anthony had been a perfect gentleman and let him sleep. And despite the small, cramped space of the back of the campervan, Sören had apparently felt safe enough to get the best, deepest sleep that he had in ages. Sören actually felt rested for the first time in months.
But he'd fallen asleep. No sex.
Sören couldn't help it - it wasn't lack of interest, it was his body's exhaustion catching up with him. That barfight had been the worst one Sören had seen, two drunk Alphas practically trying to kill each other over an Omega who smelled like she was about to go into heat but didn't seem interested in either of them. Sören hated Alphas who acted like that, who felt entitled to every Omega they smelled, and he was glad Anthony didn't have that "typical Alpha swagger" - if anything, Anthony was an adorable dork. Which Sören found endearing, and very sexy. He was crushing on Anthony harder than he'd ever fallen for anyone before, and if he hadn't fallen asleep last night he would have begged Anthony to knot him.
Sören didn't want Anthony to feel rejected, with him just passing out like that. He had a feeling Anthony understood, but he still felt bad. It wasn't entirely unselfish - already, Sören's body was starting up again at the proximity of Anthony in the passenger's seat, looking at him, smelling that delicious jasmine-like musk of Anthony's Alpha pheromones. Anthony wasn't just easy on the eyes, and didn't just have the right combination of chemicals, but Sören genuinely liked him, and that fondness and respect was fueling his lust even hotter. It was a struggle not to pull over, say "fuck Dettifoss", climb back into the back of the campervan, and present for him. Sören felt like he was going out of his mind with sexual hunger, and the day hadn't even started yet.
But a promise was a promise. Sören was going to show him Selfoss and Dettifoss. Then when they were back in Reykjavik, they could make up for the time they'd lost last night.
Before Sören could open his mouth to speak, Anthony glanced at him with a shy, sweet smile. "How did you sleep?"
"I slept really well, takk. Better than I have in a long time." Now guilt was chased by concern. "Did you sleep OK? You were up before I was."
"I wasn't up for that long before you got up. I watched you sleep before I drifted off last night, and then when I woke up I wanted to watch you sleep, again." The smile got bigger. "You're so cute."
Sören's face was on fire. Once again, he fought the urge to pull the van over, drag Anthony into the back seat, and beg for his cock. "Takk." Sören took a deep breath. "Though I am sorry that I fell asleep before we could... you know."
"It's OK. Remember, I drove us to the camp because I was worried about you with how tired you looked. I'm not upset."
"I'd offer right now, but if you want to see the waterfalls -"
"I do, yeah."
Sören nodded. Then he grinned, not able to help himself. "I'll have a waterfall of my own to show you when the day is done."
Anthony let out a low whistle, and now Anthony was blushing, grinning, laughing. "Wow, Sören. Wow."
"Just wanted to remind you I. You know. Would have been very very willing last night if my fucking body hadn't shut me down."
Anthony bit his lower lip and gave a little growl.
Sören's fists clenched on the wheel, his cock stirring in his pants, hole throbbing, slick starting to pool again. This was going to be a very fucking long day. Hopefully, they would have a very long night.
_
Anthony was duly impressed with Selfoss, which Sören thought was good because he felt someone who couldn't see the beauty of that place had no soul, and it was a litmus test for compatibility.
It was only Sören's third time seeing Selfoss, and the first time with someone he was interested in. Seeing it twice before did not take away from the magic of seeing it a third time, especially when he was showing it to a new pair of eyes. They had to tread carefully through the snow on the banks of the falls but it was worth it to get a good look at the mighty waterfall gushing, and the way a rainbow sparkled in the mist.
The real gem, though, was the Dettifoss. Not the least of which was Anthony's mood as they drove on there. Anthony laughed softly and Sören glanced over, wondering what was so funny.
"Oh. The name, Dettifoss. To English-speaking ears it sounds like Dental Floss."
Sören grinned. He couldn't resist an opportunity to be bad. "Jæja, pubic hair will do that." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Anthony turned beetroot, grinning.
It was an overcast day, the sky silver, but the powerful waterfall was still clearly visible, strong as it poured and churned. Anthony's face lit up as he watched, and Sören thought that smile was as much a miracle of nature as the falls.
The silvery overcast sky was even lovelier as the day faded, the silver mixing with gold in the last light before sunset. They stayed to watch the sunset at the waterfall, listening to the roar as the water flowed and flowed, unstoppable. They held hands, marveling at the way the blazing colors of the sunset reflected in the snow and the water. No matter what else happened while Anthony was visiting Iceland, Sören wanted to cherish this memory, glad he had survived for this, feeling as alive and strong as the pounding water.
They drove into the sunset, and the twilight, listening to music, sharing the quiet space together, still in awe of what they had witnessed, something sacred. They were a half-hour late for getting the campervan turned in at the rental, but because it was the day before Christmas Eve, the rental was willing to forego a late fee. They managed to make it on time to catch a flight to Reykjavik without having to wait too long.
On the jet, Sören started to feel uncomfortable. Too hot, twitchy and restless, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He chalked it up to nerves - he hadn't had sex in close to two months - and he didn't like flying to begin with; the plane felt even more claustrophobic being packed full to capacity on the day many Icelanders took to do last-minute Christmas shopping.
Anthony noticed Sören squirming in his seat. "Are you all right?"
Sören nodded. "Jæja, I'm fine." He gave a tight, nervous smile. He didn't want anything to get in the way of this evening.
Anthony offered to buy them dinner. Sören was flexible on where, letting Anthony decide, and he opted for a surf-and-turf by the bay. What sounded good in theory was not so much in practice - as they got off the bus and walked towards the restaurant, Anthony's nose wrinkled and he frowned slightly, and Sören knew exactly what he was reacting to. In the giddy lust of spending time with Anthony, Sören had forgotten what day it is.
"Shit, I should have warned you," Sören said.
"What." Anthony raised an eyebrow.
"It's St. Þorlákur's Day. Most restaurants are serving fermented skate fish today."
"Oh. That's what that smell is?"
Sören nodded solemnly. Though his Omega scent was just as strong, he could smell himself - but in a way, that made the skate smell even worse, as the floral spicy smoky smell did not combine well with the fermented fishy smell.
"Well, we're here. I take it a lot of people eat that today, if restaurants are serving it?"
Sören nodded.
"I might as well try it," Anthony said. "When in Reykjavik."
Sören wasn't going to have any himself - he'd had it before and some mistakes were not worth repeating. He did find himself somewhat perversely amused by Anthony's willingness to try it, even as Anthony was cringing at the smell.
So, with their lamb and seafood platters, Anthony got a small plate of fermented skate to try. He waited until he'd finished his main meal, so the flavor wouldn't affect the flavors of the lamb and fish and shellfish. Sören was taking a sip of Applesín when Anthony took his first bite of the fermented skate and he ended up wearing it at the look on Anthony's face, the way Anthony paused mid-chew, eyes wide, looking like he'd just witnessed a wreck. Anthony chewed some more, slowly, frowning hard as he swallowed, and then he gulped down ice water like his life depended on it.
"Bloody hell," Anthony said, voice raspy. "What the fuck was St. Þorlákur the patron saint of, anyway? Torture? Garbage? Toilets?"
Sören's laughter rang out. "He's the patron saint of Iceland." He laughed again. "That bad, huh?"
"It was thorrible."
Sören howled at the pun, gigglesnorting. Anthony glared over his ice water, but then he laughed too. The waiter sympathetically brought over another pitcher of ice water without being asked, as if he'd been watching the foreign tourist partake in the local custom and knew it was going to be suffering.
"If you think this is bad, be glad you didn't come in January," Sören said, reaching across the table to pat his arm - wishing he hadn't because it made Sören's hand tingle. It made Sören tingle all over, cock stirring, hole twitching. Sören started to feel too hot again, and uncomfortably full.
"What happens in January?"
"Þorramatur. Lots of places serve traditional Icelandic food like, you know. Sheep's head, ram balls. Fermented skate has nothing on hákarl, fermented shark. It tastes like how cat piss smells."
Anthony made another face. "That's gonna be a no from me."
"I don't either. This is the twenty-first fucking century, not the 1600s. I like food that tastes like food, takk."
"Besides..." Anthony gave a little chuckle. "If I ate that... hákarl? And told anyone about it, I'd be accused of cannibalism. I have a nickname in the legal community of London, they call me the Shark."
"I suppose that's my exception to not eating shark." It came out before Sören could stop himself. His mind burned with delicious thoughts of sucking Anthony's cock.
The same lightly nauseated feeling Sören had experienced on the plane came back, and Sören got annoyed with himself - for all the times not to feel good, this was horrible timing, especially after he'd been too tired for sex last night. Two nights in a row of his body misbehaving... Anthony might start to take it personal. And Sören was sure his body wasn't subconsciously trying to tell him no, not this one, not him.
But the discomfort got to be enough that Anthony noticed Sören squirming and wincing a little. "Are you all right?"
"I think the smell of the skate is getting to me." That wasn't a lie - though the slightly sick feeling had started on the flight from Akureyri to Reykjavik, it was more intense here in the restaurant and Sören wondered if the skate had anything to do with it.
He didn't have to wonder long. Anthony flagged the waiter for the check. "Do you want to relax for a bit in my hotel suite, or your flat?"
"My flat," Sören said - if his nausea got worse, he didn't want to make a mess in the hotel and possibly incur extra charges for Anthony.
On the bus, Sören felt ready to jump out of his skin. Too many people... too many scents. It wasn't just that the fermented skate smell had been overpowering, but now everyone smelled overpowering. Especially himself. Especially Anthony. Sören's heart raced, his stomach doing flip-flops...
...his hole twitching, cock aching, slick dripping. The liner Sören had been wearing since his last bathroom break was completely soaked now.
Oh fuck. Sören's eyes widened with alarm. It was all too clear now.
The last time Sören had gone into heat was April. He typically went into heat two to three times a year; his heats were irregular. He knew that he was overdue for going into heat but he hadn't expected it now.
At least this time he had an Alpha. A very compatible Alpha. His last heat, he'd been unmated - he was, in fact, recovering from a painful breakup with an Alpha who had cheated on him months before. The knotted dildo had gotten him through, but it was a poor substitute for the real thing, like eating tinned beef instead of steak.
When they got off the bus, Anthony faced him, his own eyes wide, nostrils twitching, starting to make the connection of what was going on. "Right. Let's get you inside."
Let's get you inside. The walk to the apartment complex was agony, Sören hearing himself whimper as every step teased his cock, his hole, jeans rubbing him all the right ways, as his mind raced with intense, lust-filled thoughts of getting Anthony naked, taking his cock in every position he could. Cock cock cock. It was all Sören could do not to slam Anthony against the wall, rip his clothes off, and climb on his cock when they stepped into the lobby.
Sören lived on the ground floor - a mercy, when he hated elevators and asthma made climbing several flights of stairs a bit of a pain. They didn't have far to go. As soon as they walked in Sören's apartment, Sören began feverishly taking off his scarf, his coat, his gloves, his boots. Before he could unzip his jeans, Anthony cleared his throat and their eyes met.
"OK, so..." Anthony took a deep breath. "You... you're in heat, right?"
Sören nodded. Then he cocked his head to one side, realizing Anthony seemed very shy and nervous all of a sudden. "This your first rodeo?"
"Er, yeah." Anthony gave a sheepish grin. "I've never been with an Omega before."
"Jesus Christ, how does a hot Alpha like you not have every Omega throwing themselves at you?"
Anthony's laughter rang out and his cheeks turned pink. He quickly sobered and said, "I've never been with an Omega before but I.... you know. I've watched Omega porn. I've read some things. Your heat lasts about three days usually?"
Sören nodded.
"OK." Anthony exhaled. "I'm going to have to cancel my hotel reservation, they won't like me being gone that long."
"I'm sorry."
Anthony snorted. "I'm going to fuck your brains out for three days, it's not that much of a hardship." Then Anthony glanced down - his cock was already tenting his coat, responding to Sören. "I suppose it is hard, but -"
Sören laughed at that.
Then their eyes met again. "And when you're in heat, I take it that... nothing much else is going to happen."
Sören shook his head. "I don't know what you've read, but we build heat nests. Supplies on hand to bunker down during our heat and not have to go very far." Sören gestured around at his studio apartment. "I don't have a lot of space for storing stuff so I don't have food reserves and shit like that. Usually I do a big takeaway order and have them deliver."
"Well, since I have to go back to the hotel to get my things anyway, I can pick up food and such while I'm out. Do you have any requests?"
"Water, and maybe sports drinks - something with electrolytes, we're going to be sweating a lot. Finger foods, easy things, nothing that requires cooking except maybe a few minutes in the microwave."
"OK." Anthony nodded. "I hate leaving you like this, but I'll shop as quickly as I can and I'll be back soon, all right? And then I'll take care of you."
Sören couldn't believe he was doing this, but he tossed the keys to the apartment complex and his flat. Anthony caught them. "So you don't have to knock, you can just... come." Sören chuckled. "And come, I guess."
Anthony laughed too. He blew a kiss as he headed out the door. "I'll be back," he said in an Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.
It was a big act of trust, giving Anthony the keys like that - but Sören was sure Anthony wasn't running. He'd seen the hardness in Anthony's coat, he'd smelled the arousal, he'd seen the ache in his eyes.
Even so, Sören felt a surge of panic as the minutes wore on. He's coming back, Sören told himself. And he realized it was an Omega reaction, needing one's mate to feel safe as the vulnerability of heat came on.
Sören needed to distract himself, before he had a meltdown, overwhelmed by hormones and the need for his Alpha to come back right now. He also needed a shower, not having had one since yesterday. He undressed and walked to the bathroom - being naked was just making his arousal worse, reminding him of sex. He could feel his slick dripping down his thighs, down his legs. When he stepped onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor, as he waited for the shower to heat up he saw he was dripping slick onto the floor.
The amount of touching himself he had to do to lather up properly was agonizing. His nipples ached, every inch of his body felt sensitized, teasing himself without meaning to... thinking of what it would be like for Anthony's hands to run all over him. He and Anthony had only just kissed and cuddled but there was so much promise of how good that touch would be. Sören shuddered and let out an urgent whimper, feeling on the verge of tears with how much he needed.
By the time Sören was clean and had prune fingers - the freshness of the soap did nothing to dial back the strong sweet-spicy-smoky scent of his arousal - he was starting to shake with how badly he needed it. He couldn't take it, slick dripping again as he toweled off. Not thinking, just feeling frantic lust, as soon as he was out in the one-room that functioned as a living room, bedroom and kitchen all at once, he went over to the small closet where he kept his clothes, and a collapsible hanging storage organizer where he kept personal care supplies. He found the glass knotted dildo he had used for his last heat, and that he masturbated with when he was just horny, and he made his way to the couch, not even bothering to fold the couch out to a bed. He lay back, lifted a leg, arched, and started working the dildo in and out of him, wishing it was Anthony's cock. Visualizing Anthony on top of him, sweating, hair damp, eyes glazed with lust... hearing that Alpha growl.
"Oh god. Anthony. Fuck. Anthony, please..." Sören bit his lip and closed his eyes, shivering, whining, working the dildo faster, harder. Slick was pouring out of him.
He heard keys at the door. "Oh thank god." Sören put the dildo on the coffee table and climbed into position on the couch. Anthony opened the door to see Sören presenting - kneeling, hands on the back of the couch, his ass thrust out so Anthony could see him open and slick, hole twitching.
The bags fell onto the floor. "My. God." Anthony's voice was raspy with desire.
"Please," Sören begged. "Oh god. Please. Please, I need you now."
Anthony quickly closed the door behind him. Sören whined and wiggled his ass as he heard Anthony taking off his outerwear, his boots, his clothes. The studio flat didn't just smell like Sören now, it smelled like Anthony too, their scents combining in a heady, intoxicating way.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sören heard Anthony's footsteps approach the couch. He felt Anthony's fingers brush down his spine, making him tremble, making him gasp and whine, hole twitching again, slick dripping. "Please."
Anthony chuckled. "You've waited a little while, what's a few more minutes?" Anthony dropped to his knees behind Sören. "You look and smell delicious. I bet you taste delicious, too."
With that, Anthony's tongue licked down Sören's spine, the way his fingers had brushed, and then his tongue was licking around and around Sören's opening, at last licking at his passage. Anthony made a soft murmur of pleasure as he lapped away, then an "mmmmm" before he pulled back and husked, "You do taste delicious. Even better than cake." He dove back in, tongue rubbing just right. Sören howled, fists clenching the back of the couch. As badly as he needed to get fucked, Anthony's tongue was spoiling him. Sören rocked his hips, fucking himself on Anthony's tongue, whimpering.
"That's it, baby." Anthony's tongue lashed harder, faster. "I'm gonna take good care of you."
As heat-crazed as Sören was, somehow his mind still went there. "Hi Gonna Take Good Care Of You -"
Anthony slapped Sören's ass. That made Sören twitch again, letting out a little scream through clenched teeth as his nipples and cock hardened even more, slick dripping. He loved it. Anthony seemed to know it and smacked Sören's other ass cheek, before slowing down his tongue, teasing oh so slowly.
"Fuck," Sören sobbed, feeling like he could die of pleasure. And the night had just begun...
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