
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8682070.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Magnificent_Seven_(2016)
  Relationship:
      Goodnight_Robicheaux/Billy_Rocks
  Character:
      Goodnight_Robicheaux, Billy_Rocks, Emma_Cullen, Vasquez_(Magnificent
      Seven_(2016)), Joshua_Faraday
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, First_Time_Bottoming, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Knotting,
      teaching_about_sex, Talking_During_Sex, unintended_orgasm_delay,
      promptfill, Loss_of_Virginity, Caught_in_the_Act
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-28 Words: 6427
****** Cowboy's Courage ******
by Cahaya_(Tarlaith)
Summary
     Billy's first rut is approaching and he decides to take it all the
     way.
     (Not quite omegaverse.)
Notes
     Written for this prompt: "Any pairing/combination, just knot them and
     fill them with cum.
     I'd love it if two things happen, one: some kind of light bloating
     from being too full of cum, and two: they're caught knotted together
     when they really shouldn't have been (...)"
     on the Mag7_kink_meme
     uhm... not beta-ed.
The moment he walked through the doors of the Sacramento Health Care Center
Billy knew he was fucked. Not literally – not yet, at least – but he was so
nervous that all he wanted to do was turn around and run home to hide in his
bed. No, beneath the bed. Then he remembered the gaping hole the bus ticket had
ripped into his savings and decided that no, he was here now and he'd sit it
out. Not that there would be much sitting involved.
Stepping further into the freezing air conditioned coolness of the foyer, Billy
took a careful look around. It was a spacey room with big windows – lots of
natural California sunglare – and an overabundance of non-desert-friendly
plants. To his left sat a handful of yellow armchairs and a sofa in the same
color, grouped around a low glass table full of shiny brochures and leaflets.
To his right was the wall – lemon, with some kind of brocade Fleur-de-Lis print
– with a water cooler nudged in between a potted azalea and a small palm tree
that looked fake as shit. At the back wall he could see two automatic glass
doors and a massive wooden counter with a tiny receptionist behind it. Who was
looking straight at him.
Which probably wasn't that much of a surprise since he was the only person in
the room and had just come in through the front door. 'Okay, here goes
nothing,' Billy thought to himself, desperate to wipe his suddenly sweaty palms
somewhere else than his favorite pair of camouflage shorts. He went for his
black t-shirt instead, fumbling with the shark tooth necklace his father had
given him almost two years ago for his fifteenth birthday.
Cautiously, Billy approached the counter. The small receptionist stood up
expectantly and he saw that she wasn't that small at all. She was probably
taller than him. And she smiled. “Hey there. Welcome to the Sacramento Health
Care Center. May I help you?”
'Not personally, no.' The thought came unbidden, but Billy didn't have the guts
to say it out loud – not even if his throat weren't so dry. He remembered
working out what he wanted to say on the bus ride earlier, to pass the two
hours it took to get here from Chico, but it was gone now. He could do nothing
but stare at her helplessly.
The receptionist took pity on him. “Are you here for your rut?”
Billy nodded, heart pounding painfully in his throat. Yes, he was here to get
fucked in the ass by a total stranger. Trying to look at anything but her face,
he read her name tag. 'Emma Cullen.' Then he noticed that it probably seemed
like he was staring at her breasts and he glanced up again.
She raised an eyebrow. “You look a bit young to be here on your own.”
“I'm,” Billy began and had to clear his throat. “I'm sixteen. I'm legally
allowed to decide what happens to my own body.” To prove it, he pulled out his
ID. It slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the counter, the sound
shockingly loud in the quietness of the room. The same instant, one of the
glass doors swished open and two guys strutted out, waving a lazy greeting at
Emma as they passed. They were both tall and broad-shouldered and so much older
than Billy.
“Did you bring your doctor's report?”
Emma's question startled him. “Y-yes.” He almost ripped the folded piece of
paper as he wrestled it from his pocket to hand it over. It was frayed at the
edges, worn soft from being read and re-folded over and over, and it was barely
half a week old. By now, Billy had the contents memorized: his hormone levels,
the estimated start of the “rut”, the length and intensity and possible end,
even though those numbers were vague at best since it was his first time. A
nurse had scribbled “stay hydrated” into the bottom left corner together with a
smiley face, and Billy understood neither because this was California and he
dreaded the stunt his body was about to pull tomorrow.
Humming, Emma keyed the data into a form on her computer, then handed back the
paper and his ID. Somewhere behind her, a printer whirred to life. She fetched
the new form and a ball pen. “Our own doctors will need to take a look at you.
Nothing major, just a standard procedure. I'd like to remind you that
contraceptives are mandatory and that by signing you'll be agreeing to them.”
“Okay,” Billy mumbled. And then: “I'm infertile.” Courtesy to the same genetic
defect that had his body rejecting any kind of heat suppressants.
Emma's gaze softened. “Better safe than sorry. Since you're underage, the state
or your health insurance will cover it.”
Summoning all his courage, Billy signed the form. 'No going back now.'
 
-
 
The check-up really was quick: he was told to strip and lay down, then the
doctor came in, showing more interest in the written report than Billy's actual
body. A nurse shoved a thermometer up his ass to take his “core temperature”
which, they explained, would be elevated once the “rut” started. It was already
slightly higher than usual, they informed him cheerfully, so it couldn't be
long now. Then they administered the contraceptives and he was free to go.
Emma picked him up once he was dressed again and showed him his room. It was on
the second floor, which looked a lot less like a hospital and more like a
retirement home, or some kind of rehab facility. They stopped at door number
two-fourteen, Emma opened it and Billy followed her inside.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of disinfectant, not as overpowering
as downstairs but still biting, then the absolutely boring, gray-ish carpet
that had probably been out of style before it was even invented. Thankfully no
one had attempted to force some color onto the walls as well, they were white,
as were the sheets on the massive queen-size bed to his left. There was a
nightstand with a corded telephone beside it.
“Bathroom's over here. We provide toiletries and towels,” Emma said, pointing
to a smaller door to her right. Then she walked over to the dresser beside the
window on the far wall and pulled a thin folder out of the top drawer. “The doc
said your rut will start tomorrow, so one of the boys will be over at around
half past seven. If you need assistance earlier than that, press the red button
on the phone.”
Emma came back and handed him the folder and a white key card. “There's a map
of the premises in there. You're free to leave this room whenever you like. We
have a cafe downstairs if you get hungry. Just hand them your key card, they'll
know what to do. Just... be back here when it starts, okay?”
Billy swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”
She smiled at him and slipped out, the door closing quietly behind her. Silence
settled over him and suddenly Billy felt incredibly lost in the impersonality
of the room. Slowly, he walked the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge. The
mattress dipped slightly beneath him. He patted the sheets, cool under his
hand, and pulled out his smartphone.
The display was black. No calls, no messages. So his parents hadn't realized
that their son had disappeared just yet. They probably thought he was just
visiting a friend after school or something. Of course they wouldn't exactly
expect him to run off the day before his first “time,” especially not when they
had gone through the trouble of buying him... uhm. Toys.
Billy laid back on the bed, shivering, not quite sure whether it was because of
the coolness of the cotton or the thought of said “toys.” He hadn't even known
such things existed until his mother had come home with them the day after the
doctor's appointment. Billy's cheeks had been burning with embarrassment when
she tried to explain their use to him, and he'd never been more envious of the
guys who could just take a pill and not be bothered by the whims of their own
bodies until they chose to.
Most men decided to go through at least one rut, often in their early twenties.
Very few chose pregnancy, now that there were means to avoid it. The “period of
male fertility” ended some time between the thirty-second and thirty-fifth
birthday. No one did “the rut” in their teens. And if Billy's classmates in
school found out... well, there was a very good reason he had come to
Sacramento instead of doing it at the Chico Health Care Center. Maybe he should
have gone to San Francisco, to avoid any chance of accidentally meeting anyone.
With toys he wouldn't have that risk, but there was something deeply unsettling
about the thought of his parents checking in on him and shouting completely
unhelpful tips from behind the door while he was panting around an artificial
knot up his butt. Also, the rumors about malfunctioning knots that didn't go
down again, or the ones that got stuck and had to be cut out in the hospital,
were shockingly persistent. No. He needed to do this his way.
There was a twinge in Billy's lower belly and he shuddered. He got up again and
shuffled to the dresser, inspecting the other drawers, just to distract himself
from thinking. The second one contained a blanket with a Mojave desert print.
He threw it on the bed. The last drawer was empty except for a single, worn
book, the cover also showing a nondescript desert and a church tower below a
strip of bloody red letters. 'The Battle of Rose Creek.'
He'd never been a fan of Westerns, preferring the great pacific ocean to
scorched earth, but the blurb promised an, if not interesting, at least
entertaining read. Besides, his phone told him it was just past five pm, he was
pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stomach any food at all tonight and he would
have to pass the time until tomorrow morning someway.
Kicking off his shoes Billy leaned back against the headboard of the bed,
pulled the blanket over his knees and opened the first page.
'Courage is: being scared to death but saddling up anyway.'
 
-
 
Billy startled awake in the middle of the night, blinking owlishly into the
darkness above his face. He felt hot, the pillow was burning beneath his neck,
and he was sweating, even though he had stripped down to his boxers. Sometime
during the night he'd kicked he blanket off the bed. Sitting up groggily, he
tried to figure out what woke him.
Maybe it was the moonlight falling in through the window. He'd forgotten to
close the curtains when he finally shut the book, halfway through the story of
that unlikely fellowship of guys with weird names trying to save a town that
wasn't even worth the land it was built on. But back at home Billy sometimes
left the whole window open for the night, relishing the coolness drifting in,
so it couldn't have been that.
He turned on the bed to grab his phone. There were four new messages, three
from his mother and one from his father, together with six missed calls. Billy
briefly considered calling back, but it was half past one and he didn't feel
like a late night shouting match. And he wouldn't put it past his father to hop
into the car and come here to get him, and then he would have to face the toys
and the humiliation on top of having to explain himself.
He dropped the phone back onto the nightstand and was just about to lie down
again when something hot fluttered in his belly. The feeling grew, like a wave,
until it became painful, needy, taking over his whole body and making him gasp
for air. Breathing didn't provide any relief; he couldn't do anything but wait
it out, like a stomach ache – only that this was emptiness instead of fullness.
It centered somewhere behind his balls, flaring again, then ebbed until it
disappeared, leaving Billy trembling and panting in the sheets.
This was “the rut”. He knew it, he'd read about it, he'd been told in school
about this, but he'd never thought it would be this intense. And it hadn't even
started, not really, he had six more hours of this before he could call anyone.
Billy's gaze darted to the red button on the phone. Maybe he could do it now.
Tell them he was ready, how would they be able to tell, anyway? And if they
could, they wouldn't just watch him writhe on the bed, right?
His heartbeat slowed down and Billy closed his eyes. It didn't feel so bad now.
He could wait this out, no need to ring some unsuspecting guy out of bed.
Heat trickled the base of his spine and tried to breathe calmly, hoping it
might help. The mere thought of touching himself made his skin crawl. He was
too sensitive to even try.
 
-
 
Billy almost didn't register the room getting brighter when morning dawned, he
was curled up in a fetal position on the bed, gritting his teeth and waiting
for the flames within him to die down again. It seemed to take longer that
before, but time had become something distant during the endless ebb and flow
of pain and arousal and the clench of his body around absolutely nothing. Now
it wasn't flowing any more, it was staying, the sensation was clearer:
hollowness.
The door clicked and he startled, head coming up with a disoriented “huh?”
“Morning, I'm – oh, shit!”
Billy blinked, now confused, trying to make out something in the half-darkness
of the room and failing miserably because lust sliced through him like a
knife's edge, he shouldn't have moved like that. His cock, flagging until now,
filled immediately, and Billy suddenly remembered that he'd lost the blanket
and couldn't hide it. He felt himself blush.
“Damn, why didn't you call if your rut started early, that's what the phone is
for,” a male voice growled, the door fell shut a little louder than necessary,
and suddenly there was a hand on Billy's upper arm. It was blissfully cool, but
he flinched anyway.
The man froze. He was blonde, a lot older than Billy, wore a Cowboy hat – and
in the morning light his wide eyes shone unearthly blue. “Gosh, you're just a
kid!”
Billy swallowed dryly. Sweat ran down his neck. “Who... are you?”
“Goodnight Robicheaux,” the man said slowly. “I'm here to assist you.”
Carefully he crouched down beside the bed, at eye-level with Billy, reaching
out a hand and stopping just before it touched Billy's forehead. “May I?”
He didn't really wait for an answer and placed his palm on Billy's hot skin,
clicking his tongue. “You're burning up. Stay right here,” he ordered, getting
up and disappearing into the bathroom. Billy heard a rushing sound, probably
the faucet, and then 'Goodnight' came back with a glass of water. He pressed it
into Billy's hands, who shivered at the coldness but drank anyway. It was balm
for his parched throat.
Once he was done he placed the glass on the nightstand, right beside the book.
“'Goodnight'? Like the guy from 'The Battle of Rose Creek'?”
Goodnight, who had taken off his hat, shoes and shirt, stopped pushing down his
slacks to chuckle. “What can I say? It's my papa's favorite book.” He stepped
out of the slacks and sat down on the edge of the bed in nothing but a pair of
black boxers, shrugging. “Probably because my maman wrote it. Still thirsty?”
“No.”
“Well, good,” Goodnight said, placed a hand on Billy's hip and leaned in.
Billy's hands flew up to his shoulders and he pushed him back reflexively,
shielding himself against the sudden closeness and feeling stupid for it
immediately because what they were going to required a lot of touching. He
lowered his hands, terrified. “S-sorry.”
“Not a problem, cher. Have you had sex before?”
“Uhh,” Billy blushed even harder, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“I'll take that as a 'no',” Goodnight said, the corner of his mouth twitching
up. It was getting easier to see now as more and more light streamed in. “Have
you ever kissed anyone before? Girl? Guy?”
At this rate, there wouldn't be any blood left for his cock, Billy thought to
himself as he shook his head again, because this was a different kind of shame.
A virgin at sixteen, that was understandable. Puberty was awkward and no one
wanted to dive headfirst into something like that. But unkissed? That was a
scandal, a disgrace.
Billy was prepared for incredulous laughter, or at least a smirk, not for the
gentle hand that cupped his jaw. Goodnight inched closer, their thighs
brushing. “Hey, it's alright. We'll take it slow. Would you like to kiss me?”
Billy thought about that while Goodnight watched him, attentive and unmoving,
and Billy found that yes, he wanted to. He'd been curious about this – who
wasn't? – and now that the chance presented itself he really wanted to try it.
But how? Lips, tongues, teeth? He'd never done it before, how would he know if
he was doing it right?
Goodnight must have read the question in his face because he smiled, leaning in
slowly. There was a puff of hot air as he whispered “relax,” against Billy's
lips, then brushed their mouths together. Billy inhaled sharply and Goodnight
drew back. “There you go. Your First Kiss. Feel different?”
Billy blinked at him. “What?”
“I'll tell you a secret,” Goodnight said, stroking a hand down Billy's arm,
which admittedly felt pretty nice. “Second time's always better.” He cocked his
head invitingly and Billy stared at Goodnight's slightly parted lips, already
wanting to feel them again. Cautiously, he leaned in. It lasted longer this
time, warm and soft, and Billy marveled at how good it was. No wonder his
friends never shut up about it.
Suddenly, something hot and wet traced Billy's lower lip and he made a noise
somewhere deep in his throat. Goodnight chuckled, easing away. “Now, let me
tell you about tongues.”
“I prefer a demonstration,” Billy growled, took Goodnight's face in his hands
and kissed him open-mouthed, with a boldness he never knew he possessed. It was
even better than before: the slick slide of their tongues, rubbing against each
other, and the taste...
Billy let Goodnight crawl over him, thoroughly occupied by what their mouths
were doing, and gasped when he felt their bodies pressing together from his
chest to his toes. Goodnight was taller than him but it hardly seemed to
matter, he'd pushed one thigh in between Billy's and nudged his crotch,
exciting him.
Billy stiffened, insecurity flooding in again, followed by all the anxiety and
nervousness of yesterday afternoon. He broke the kiss, breathing hard,
suppressing the need to rub his cock on Goodnight's leg.
Fingers carded into Billy's hair and Goodnight moved down to lick at his neck.
Billy mewled, arching up to meet him before realizing what he was doing and
that those humiliating sounds were coming from him. He wanted to back off, put
some distance between them, but his body wasn't listening to him any more, it
was coming alive beneath Goodnight's touch, thrumming with heat and energy.
Only when Goodnight hooked a finger into the waistband of Billy's boxers and
started to pull down did the panic take over enough to make him squirm.
“Shhh,” Goodnight murmured, pressing his lips to Billy's collarbone. “It's
alright.”
Oh, how Billy wanted to believe that. But he couldn't, not when this was all so
unfamiliar, so new and fast and... frightening. “I'm... scared,” he whispered,
feeling ridiculously exposed admitting it.
“You're allowed to,” Goodnight reassured him, thumb rubbing lazy circles into
the groove of Billy's hipbone. “I was terrified, too. Everyone is.”
“But 'courage is: being scared to death but saddling up anyway'?” Billy asked
wryly, realizing something: “That advice is incredibly unhelpful to anyone
who's scared.” He knew he sounded petulant, but his heart was beating so hard
he could feel it in his throat and he just wanted it to stop.
Goodnight looked at him, something incredibly gentle on his face. He was
handsome, Billy thought suddenly, stomach fluttering nervously.
“The secret to good sex is communication. And honesty,” Goodnight added softly.
“Tell me what scares you.”
“I... I don't know,” Billy replied, averting his gaze. “Everything.”
“Kissing, too?”
“... no.”
“Well,” Goodnight smiled and leaned in to nuzzle Billy's neck. “How about
this?” His breath ghosted along Billy's jaw, warm and moist, and Goodnight
closed his lips around Billy's earlobe, tugging slightly. Billy moaned and
squirmed, new sparks of arousal dancing down his spine and pooling between his
legs.
“Billy?”
It was the first time Goodnight had said his name, and it did funny things to
Billy's stomach. He blinked, remembering the question. “No.”
“May I pull off your shorts?”
Then he'd be naked. No way to hide his erection any more. Not that he could
now, but being naked in front of a stranger, that was something else. Billy
swallowed. “What about yours?”
Goodnight grinned at him and took Billy's hand, that had been gripping
Goodnight's neck rather uselessly until now, and placed it on his side. Then he
pushed down and Billy could feel the curve of a hip beneath his palm, until his
fingers touched the waistband of Goodnight's boxers. “Mind giving me a hand?”
Billy licked his lips and Goodnight slid their hands further down, hooking
Billy's thumb into the fabric and pulled it over his ass. The skin was so soft
that Billy couldn't help but stare at the almost perfect curve, paler than the
rest of him but still... nice. Goodnight let go of Billy's hand and pushed his
undergarments off completely, throwing them off the bed.
His now exposed cock bounced with the movement, blood red and heavy, the thick
root surrounded by short, pale pubic hair. It was larger than Billy's and a lot
larger than Billy had expected, and the knot wouldn't even form fully until
Goodnight was inside him. He could see where it would be, the swell was more
pronounced at the base, all of that monster would need to be in him for it to
tie them.
Billy didn't know whether to be indifferent or scared. His mind wanted to be
scared, but Goodnight had been so patient until now, going at Billy's pace, and
his calmness made Billy feel... safe. He exhaled, the panic abated, and he
noticed that Goodnight was watching him carefully. Needing to show him that he
was fine, Billy slid his hand over Goodnight's hip towards his genitals,
hesitating at the last moment.
“You can touch it,” Goodnight encouraged.
Taking a deep breath, Billy decided the time for modesty was long past and
closed his hand around Goodnight's cock. It was warm, even compared to Billy's
elevated body temperature, and the firm flesh twitched in his grasp. He stroked
up and down experimentally, pleased at the way Goodnight's breath hitched.
Billy tilted his head up for another kiss just because he felt like it and was
met easily.
“You're starting to have fun,” Goodnight noted when Billy let go of him again,
and he couldn't really deny it. Didn't want to, either.
“Do you,” Billy began, pressing his nose to Goodnight's neck and breathing in,
“Do you want to take off my shorts?”
“Do you want me to?” Goodnight asked, voice a low, seductive rumble.
“Yes.”
Billy thought he could hear a chuckle, then Goodnight's fingers slipped inside
his boxers and pulled them off quickly and efficiently, revealing Billy's hard
cock. It was throbbing and leaking, but the arousal seemed dulled, not focused
in his penis as it was when he jerked himself off. Instead, the heat coiled
behind his balls, around the small, soft hole between his butt cheeks.
Now that they were both naked, Billy suddenly didn't know what to do with his
hands any more. He looked up at Goodnight. “What now?”
“Now we get to the floor show,” Goodnight said and let go of Billy briefly to
reach for his slacks, pulling out a light blue tube of k-jelly and handing it
over.
Billy turned it in his hands. “Water based?”
“Easier to clean off after, and since we won't be using condoms...,” Goodnight
shrugged. “You feelin' ready for this?”
“Not really,” Billy replied honestly, but the burning inside him had only
gotten stronger and he knew that he didn't really have a choice any more. He
licked his lips and laid back down. “Let's do it.”
“That's the spirit,” Goodnight laughed, crawled over Billy's leg and settled in
between them, spreading Billy's thighs with his broad, rough hands. Billy
shivered. He'd never felt this vulnerable in his life. But it wasn't bad, not
exactly.
Goodnight leaned down and pressed a kiss to Billy's belly. “The most important
thing is for you to relax,” he said, trailing a finger down Billy's cock and
behind his balls, probing at the clenched pucker. The touch alone was enough to
make Billy groan.
“Thank you, middle school health teacher.”
“They teach you about butt sex in middle school now?” Goodnight asked,
incredulous, and uncapped the lube, squirting a thick glob onto his fingers and
rubbing them to warm it up. Billy watched him, clinging to the emptiness inside
him to keep the nervousness at bay.
“It was implied.”
Goodnight nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer, and then spread
Billy's cheeks with his dry hand. “Breathe in for me.”
Billy did and he could feel something slightly cool and wet touch his asshole,
massaging the rim. He tensed. “Goodnight...”
“Breathe out slowly,” Goodnight said, waiting until Billy did as told and then
pushed one lubed up digit inside him in one smooth stroke. Billy gasped at the
sudden pressure, there was a faint stab of pain but it faded immediately,
replaced by lust so hot and burning he could do nothing but press down to meet
it, muscles clenching around Goodnight's finger, moaning loudly.
“Shhh,” Goodnight soothed, massaging Billy's rim, and Billy could feel himself
opening for Goodnight's fingers, needing to feel them inside. Thankfully he
didn't have to wait long, the rut making him loose enough for this to go
quickly, and soon there was a third. They all curled within him, rubbing his
swollen prostate, the round protrusion almost twice it's usual size now – and
twice as sensitive. Billy writhed on the bed, seeing stars, breath coming in
harsh little gasps as he rocked his hips. “Oh God...”
Goodnight caught Billy's lip with his teeth, sliding his tongue in and then out
again, along with his fingers. “I've got you, darlin'.”
Billy shuddered, nails scraping at Goodnight's back and then the fingers were
gone and he whined, high and needy. Rough hands turned him onto his belly.
Billy hummed, confused at first, until he felt Goodnight's cock nudging between
his cheeks and he mewled, face heating up, pushing back against them eagerly.
The blunt head poked at his hole, bigger than three fingers, so big and hot and
Billy wanted it, needed it, he shoved onto it despite Goodnight trying to hold
him still. His anus stretched willingly around the intrusion and then he was
full, pleasure slicing through him at the feeling of taking it so deeply.
Goodnight groaned into his ear, starting to thrust and Billy keened, scrabbling
at the mattress for something to hold onto as they shifted together, losing
himself in the rocking of their bodies. He could feel the thick knot pushing at
his rim; it felt massive and somewhere in Billy's head a tiny voice begged for
mercy, but he couldn't care less.
“Give it to me, Goodnight, please, just fuck me,” Billy pleaded, thighs tensing
in his efforts to push his ass up, to get what he craved.
“Almost there,” Goodnight replied, through the haze in Billy's brain, and he
gripped Billy's hips and hauled him onto his cock, holding him there, forcing
him to take it. Billy clamped down like a vice around Goodnight, stifling a
scream; his orgasm was so close he could taste it. The pleasure flared up even
brighter as the knot caught, tying them together.
Billy whined, drooling onto the sheets, he was so, so close. But there was
something holding him back, a heaviness inside him, the knot was too big.
Billy'd read about this. The swell of it was pressing down on his PC muscle and
preventing him from reaching completion, like it would if someone pushed down
on his perineum at the right moment. “Goodnight,” he wailed, desperate for
release that was decidedly out of reach, “I can't--!”
Goodnight kissed his neck, stroking his hands down Billy's sides. “You're doing
so fine, sugar. Taking it so good.”
Billy shivered as he adjusted to the fullness inside him. It was too much, it
felt like someone had pushed a melon up his ass, and his cock was so hard it
hurt. Billy tried to shift a little and found that he couldn't, his limbs
wouldn't obey; his own body rendering him helpless to facilitate fertilization.
“Oh God...” Tears pricked in his eyes. “Shit, owww.”
“Breathe,” Goodnight reminded him, “You can come once the knot goes down a bit,
shhh.”
“How –” Billy tried to look over his shoulder but his movements were sluggish
at best, his head was spinning, and Christ, he sounded more hopped-up than his
school's resident drug addict, “How long does this last?”
He could feel Goodnight shrug behind him, but only because they were still
pressed so close together. The knot throbbed, sending hot waves of pleasure
through Billy and he gasped, thighs starting to tremble uncontrollably as he
felt another gush of warm wetness flooding his insides. He whimpered into the
mattress; he hadn't realized it was possible to feel even fuller.
“Up to two hours,” Goodnight rumbled into Billy's shoulder. “You'll get used to
it.”
He jerked his hips lazily and Billy instinctively clenched, milking Goodnight
as he shot another load. The sweet scent of sex and pheromones was heavy around
them.
“H-hard to believe.” Billy wriggled his ass when the stillness became too much,
need burning through him, the stretched rim of his hole pulsed with pain. He
let out a distressed noise upon realizing again that he couldn't get away. He
was starting to feel bloated and swollen from the huge amount of seed inside
him. “Am I – ahh – supposed to feel like a water balloon about to burst?”
Goodnight placed his hand on Billy's belly and started to rub in soothing
circles. “That's natural. Relax.”
The touch did help, it was distracting enough to be soothing, and Billy closed
his eyes. Heat spiraled through his lower body, at the base of his cock, and he
concentrated on it, feeling it rise within him. He arched his back and rocked
his hips to chase his pleasure, little moans spilling from his lips; he didn't
notice the sudden loud bang of a door against a wall. “Oh God, just fuck me
harder, please, Goodnight –”
“What the fuck are you doing to my son?!”
“D-dad?” Billy's eyes flew open and he shot up instinctively, pushing
Goodnight's hand away and right onto his erect cock. Something tore inside him
and another wave of pleasure lit his nerve endings aflame. “AAHH!”
“Billy! You –”
His father was staring at him, mouth open, as if he didn't even recognize his
son. Not really surprising considering how debauched he must look, Billy
thought hazily, cheeks burning with shame.
“I'm real sorry, Sir, but there's a rut going on here,” another voice said and
a man stepped through the door, tall and lanky, obviously Mexican. The guy from
yesterday. He gripped Mr. Rocks arm.
Mr. Rocks whipped around. “I'm not leaving without my son!”
“Well, ya can't rip them apart without seriously damaging your son,” said a
different guy. “Which you might probably already have. So it's best for
everyone if you just wait out here.”
The two guys took Mr. Rocks between them and pulled him out despite his
protests.
Billy buried his face in the sheets. “Please, God, let me die.”
Goodnight, who hadn't said anything and merely curled an arm around Billy to
keep them knotted securely, hummed thoughtfully. “Don't worry about Faraday and
Vasquez. They're assistants here. Why was your father angry?”
“I...” Billy swallowed, not daring to look up yet. “I kind of – oohh Christ –
ran a-away and didn't tell anyone about this.”
“... oh.”
“And I didn't answer my phone when they tried to call,” he confessed. “I...
just didn't want them to know. They'd never have let me come h-here if they
knew.”
“I can see how that might not sit well with your dad,” Goodnight said, and
while there might have been a slight reprimand in his tone he kissed Billy
again nonetheless, soothing him through his next not-quite-orgasm.
After, Goodnight turned them onto their sides, spooning Billy, which made
breathing marginally easier. He brushed a strand of hair out of his face.
“Doesn't warrant storming in here, though, unless there's another reason.”
Billy blinked blearily up at the ceiling. “Huh?”
“Were they... planning to marry you off against your wishes or something?”
“Oh... no. I don't think so. They're nice people,” Billy said slowly, trying to
touch his cock but it was too raw. “But sometimes... they just don't like me
making my own decisions. But I don't regret it.” He shook his head, not wanting
to think about it. Instead, he tilted his head and was glad when Goodnight met
him easily, lips sliding together perfectly. It was starting to feel nice,
lying like this and being so intimately connected. Being held and comforted.
“It gets better after high school,” Goodnight mumbled against Billy's lips and
rocked into him once more.
Okay, maybe not all nice, Billy conceded as he writhed and panted. The bloating
only got worse. As did the need to fucking come already.
They spend the rest of their time just kissing and sliding against each other
when it became necessary; it was frustrating how the blissful heat stayed just
out of Billy's reach, he was thrashing desperately by the time Goodnight
announced “almost,” thrusting his hips, and finally the knot eased and popped
out.
Billy cried out and came so hard his vision went white; he didn't notice
himself creaming the sheets, only the tingling pleasure that made his limbs
blissfully heavy before everything went black.
 
-
 
Billy awoke shortly later, light-headed, and immediately wished he hadn't. He
was sore and tired and cum was leaking out of him.
Goodnight turned him onto his belly. “Stay like this, or you'll drip all over
everything.”
“Where are you going?” Billy asked after him, dizzily watching Goodnight
disappear into the adjacent bathroom. There was the sound of water and then he
came back.
“C'mon, cher, the tub is waiting for you. It'll ease the soreness.”
Goodnight helped Billy get up and into the bathroom, reassuring him on the way
that spunk running down his thighs in thick, glistering rivulets was perfectly
natural. Billy lowered himself into the tub cautiously, mindful not to touch
anything tender, and fell asleep almost instantly, feeling completely safe with
Goodnight watching over him.
 
-
 
Two hours later, Billy padded out of the bathroom again, freshly showered and
practically glowing with energy. Goodnight awaited him sitting on the bed,
slacks and that ridiculous Cowboy hat on but bare chested, smiling brightly.
“There you are. Done driving up Sacramento's water bill?”
“I didn't take that long!” Billy protested, amazed at how easy their
interaction felt now, and reached out to grab his boxers when Goodnight stopped
him.
“Ah, not so fast. Come here,” he patted the bed beside him and Billy approached
gingerly.
Goodnight smirked. “Bend over for me, cher.”
“What?!”
“I need to check for torn tissue,” he explained. “It can happen and you won't
necessarily notice right away.”
Cheeks reddening, Billy turned around and did just as told, pushing his naked
ass up at Goodnight, who took the cheeks in his hands and spread them
carefully, examining his probably puffy anus. Even though he'd just been
knotted, Billy couldn't help the twitch his cock gave. But the rut was over,
successfully completed with the knotting, and he probably wouldn't be able to
sit for days, let alone more. He smiled to himself, thinking that his
classmates were right – sex was awesome.
“Okay,” Goodnight muttered. “Now your core tem–”
Billy jumped. “NO!”
Goodnight laughed at him. “Just kidding. Everything's fine. You're free to go.”
Eying him warily in case Goodnight changed his mind and conjured up a
thermometer, Billy dressed, and only relaxed when his boxers and camouflage
shorts were securely on again. He was just about to reach for the door handle
when something occurred to him. “Can I...,” he stopped and turned to look at
Goodnight, drinking him in – his blue eyes and handsome face, his elegant form
poised on the edge of the bed – “Can I come back here next time?”
Goodnight cocked his head. “You sure can. But it won't be me assisting you
again.”
Something fluttered in Billy's stomach. Had he... not lived up to expectation?
“Why?”
“To avoid attachment,” Goodnight said, stood up and sauntered over, cupping a
hand around Billy's jaw and kissing him chastely – a goodbye. “My advice? Find
someone you really, really care about for next time. Someone you can't get
enough of.”
Billy leaned his forehead against Goodnight's, suddenly feeling sad at the
thought of maybe never seeing him again. “My dad's never going to let me out of
the house ever again,” he joked.
Goodnight grinned. “Well, that I can't help you with. But remember: Courage is
--”
“Being scared to death but saddling up anyway. Yeah. I know.”
“Cowboy's wisdom.”
“I'm not a Cowboy,” Billy pointed out, and Goodnight chuckled.
“Your day may come. You could start with the hat.” He took his own hat and
placed it on Billy's head. “There you go.”
Billy sighed, then laughed, stealing one last kiss and tipping the damn hat,
like a real Cowboy, before walking off to face his father and his life again.
He knew where he'd do his next internship.
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