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Taste was as bland as his role of a beta. Unsavory, palpable, dull; taste was particularly unfathomable—being a beta was of little concern, yet the opportunity to compare the two were there.
There was one role between the other two statuses, and that was to assist one another during mating cycles. Betas, while being the breach in the middle, couldn't best fulfill the slots during the others' cycle which they couldn't experience themselves. Couldn't 'get into the mood,' to put it in a more crass term.
Which was why, when Vincent's rather refined sense of smell picked up a faint scent of dried paint and an indescribable type of fragrance that smelt like the environment when it rained, he gestured the closest old acquaintance from college to get the others out of here. The man raised an eyebrow, trying decipher Vincent's lack of reasoning, but ultimately gave in and clapped to get the others' attention.
How great, he thought with all the mirth in the world, for a rather deadbeat excuse of an alpha to have a rut right in the home of his boss.
Vincent disliked the thought of having to put Rody in his car to drive him home. With all obviousness, the latter clearly didn't have one himself. Unsurprisingly.
As he got closer and closer to the bathroom door, Rody's scent practically erupted, and considering the waiter did not have one of the best, it was too raw, meaning it smelt incredibly foul. The type to smell refreshing when he was conscious enough to not thrust into anything that moved.
Of course, pheromones smoothed out into something more blissful if they were assisted during their cycles, and this wasn't it.
Frowning, Vincent rapped on the door. "Rody. Are you in a rut?"
Incoherent mumbling resounded from the other side of it.
"I'm going to get you to my car and drive you home," He said flatly, already planning to purchase some sort of freshener tomorrow morning. "No objections, I suppose. I'm coming inside."
The moment his hand was halfway on the doorknob, Rosy spoke out a "Wait—" and then Vincent opened the door fully.
The fly of Rody's zipper undone and a hand which was previously reaching down to remove the part after that hastily rose to cover his own nose. Vincent frowned in confusion, but the mild, concealed annoyance still stood higher than his dubiousness. "What are you acting like that for? Normally, you'd cover your crotch when someone walks in on you, not your nose. Or have you lost your common sense, as well?"
Not like Rody had much of that, either. "I—"
Slowly, Rody removed the hand from his nose, sniffed the air, and suddenly the rather pained expression on his face shifted into something more... primal. Vincent felt his eye twitch.
"Zip your pants up, I want to get this done quickly—"
Suddenly, the other walked up to him in large strides, and Vincent had barely gotten out a single word of objection by the time he'd been backed outside of the bathroom and into the hall, grunting at the sudden solid pressure of the wall behind him before narrowing his eyes in exasperation. Rody placed his hands on Vincent's waist, and he would admit, to some odd sense, that they were big.
"...Rody." The waiter stared at him back, having some sort of internal conflict behind those eyes, pupils fillled as his face scrunched, drool slipping out of his mouth. An animal, Vincent concluded. This guy turned into a full-on animal with how the rut affected him. "You obviously don't want to do this. Get off of me before you do something you regret."
"...can't- help... it..." Rody mumbled, dazed and almost twitching. Vincent found it clear he was trying to restrain himself, and would at least understand he wasn't the worst of the bunch when it came to stopping oneself from unwanted desires. "Scent... usually too- strong... yours, nice—"
'Scents are usually too strong, but yours is nice.'
Oftentimes, he'd been told he smelled like nothing, or a certain bitterness that wasn't exactly bad, but just 'there.'
Not anything pleasant, or what Rody would describe as 'nice.' Vincent stiffened as the alpha, still trying to contain himself, began absentmindedly moving his hands up and down on Vincent's sides of his waist. He grasped one of Rody's forearms, pushing it back. "Get—off."
"Rut..." The other mumbled again, the hand still on Vincent's waist using the blunt of fingertips to lightly scrape against his waist, now. Vincent shifted, averting his gaze momentarily. "...You, you're in heat too."
He clenched his jaw, got ready to push the other arm off, and then hesitated. Betas didn't go into ruts, heat, or whatever Rody's clouded mind was brewing up. If someone in a cycle was around, their bodies had an instinctual reaction towards it. If they had to help, those stronger pheromones would hint at that. Leaving like this would leave an annoying, unsatisfied feeling inside of him that would impatiently jab at him for a while.
Rather than regret it sooner or later, Vincent pushed his leg up into Rody's crotch, now watching attentively as the waiter jolted. Then, silently taking it as confirmation, Rody crashed his mouth against Vincent's own.
It was a clumsy, amateur-ish kiss on Rody's end. Initially grimacing at the feeling of their teeth clicking together, Vincent took the job into his own hands, tugging Rody back by his hair, breaking the contact. Then, as fast as he broke it, Vincent pulled the alpha back in before the other's instincts would naturally pull him right back in. His tongue breached inside, and Rody let out a muffled grunt as Vincent explored the inside of his mouth, his own tongue coming to entangle itself with Vincent's own.
Continuing to rub his leg all up on Rody's particularly sensitive area down there, Vincent's hands clutched onto the waiter's shoulders, tightly gripping the cheap cloth of the thin jacket he wore.
The scent of him twinged at Vincent's nose, gradually turning into a faint aroma of fresh citrus and the faintest hint of lemon. His legs felt weak at the smell, and he fought off the lightheadedness from the lack of air because of Rody's tongue having dominated over his and was moving around as pleased. The scent just had to be a particular favorite of his, didn't it?
He flinched when one of Rody's hands came to creep underneath his shirt, moving along his body, while the other came to clutch the back of his neck. Nothing harmful, but a solid block to keep him in place. Vincent would feel the need to say something if he wasn't busy stifling all the sounds trying to come out from his throat, back slightly arching off the wall in a weak attempt to not automatically put all of himself onto Rody.
It felt good. Overwhelming, almost, with how the other wouldn't stop the kiss, leaving him punted of breath besides what came out of his nose. And then it broke apart, and he focused a little too long on the trail of saliva that came from the breakage. He sucked in a haughty breath.
Suddenly, the hand under his shirt pulled away, coming to tug at Vincent's pants. He nearly shivered, goosebumps on his skin as Rody pulled them about a third of the way down before coming to peel off his boxers. Vincent said nothing as Rody impatiently pulled down his own boxers, a ridiculously long girth springing upward with the same amount of energy as a guy going through puberty.
"What are you..." He trailed off as Rody flipped him around, uncomfortably having his face pressed against the wall. Then, there was the sound of Rody shifting, and his eyes, originally half-lidded, widened as a wet appendage licked a stripe over his entrance. "-Hng!—"
He bit his lip, legs trying to squeeze together as he realized that Rody's tongue was lapping at his ass as if he were some omega with that weird gush that came out at the ready. And, with another dreading realization, it felt pleasurable. He spasmed, hands attempting to grip at the wall for some sort of leverage. Good. It felt too good.
Rody, seemingly confused on why nothing was coming out, began sucking on the spot where slick usually came out. Vincent nearly yelled out, instead having a passing gasp pass by his lips. His face heated up even more in the effort to rid himself of any embarrassing sounds. "...Y-you. Stop that—ugh!"
Rody tried saying something, but it came out inaudible and muffled. It caused a vibration and Vincent choked out the most quiet of moans, but the full body shudder that occured betrayed him.
Sweat coated his body as the sucking continued on for a moment longer before Rody pulled away, and a resounding pop echoed from it. "...No slick."
"Clearly not," He gritted out, using a leg to weakly kick up at Rody's thigh. "Hurry up and fuck me so we can get it over with."
At this angle, Rody's expression was just out of sight. "'Kay, boss. Need... prepping, though."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. He didn't know Rody was coherent enough to even speak. There wasn't much time to think about it, because the waiter coated up his fingers with his own mouth, glistening and coating them with saliva before experimentally prodding inside with too much care for an alpha whose primary desire was to dominate no matter what their counterpart usually wanted.
He scoffed at that, before one of Rody's fingers halfway slid in and he groaned, shakily exhaling and pushing back on the finger. Rody complied to his unspoken command, sliding the rest of his finger in. He could hear the waiter breathing heavily, the lust practically oozing off of him.
There was a moment that Rody's fingers moved around, as if searching for something. Despite that, he continued working his finger in and out, and, feeling that Vincent gradually loosened, slowly pushed in a second finger.
Audibly swallowing, Vincent finally decided to let out a groan without restraint. He highly doubted Rody would remember the in-and-outs of whatever would happen tonight. Should there be any noise, they'd blend in as a foggy memory, at least.
Behind him, he heard Rody say something incoherent, and before Vincent could ask what the waiter was saying, he tilted his fingers to a different angle and pressed down—
"Hrk—"
—and what came with it was a sharp tingle on that one point which nearly had his eyes cross. "W-what— in the world..."
His prostate. Rody was searching for his prostate, God damn it.
"Found somethin' like 'dis in newpapers," Rody said, but more to himself than Vincent in particular. Probably. He wasn't entirely sure because his jumbled thoughts became more discontorted when Rody pressed again, and that pleasure point made his dick twitch as he let out something akin to a moan an octave higher than his usual voice.
"H—ah, urg— there s-should be nothing- ah!— like t-that in newspapers, you liar," Vincent grumbled, back arching in a way that he'd never done before when Rody began to scissor his fingers, rubbing up against every part inside him. The rough padding of them had Vincent tremble and quietly curse out as they rubbed around relentlessly.
Rody didn't respond to that, and, as if it were some sort of rebellion tactic, shoved in another finger. Vincent didn't give him the benefit of it, biting his bottom lip to stiffle everything down to the point where a drop of blood fell from it and trickled down his chin.
He strained at the stretch, his member eagerly leaking pre-cum and flushed red at the tip. Moving a hand down, he nearly had his palm around it before Rody's own hand flicked it away. The waiter's fingers monetarily paused. Frustrated, he used his arm to push himself up a little, giving him leeway to get his face off the wall. "Denying me release, out of all things? You really—"
Vincent let out a mortifying garble of a moan when a large hand enveloped his warmth, covering the entire thing with absolutely no effort. He barely had enough time to prop up an elbow where his face was before Rody's hand began slowly pumping. "Fuck— haa- oh!—"
Rody resumed the movement of his fingers, no longer going all about and instead pressing solely on his prostate. Vincent writhed, unable to move forward or backward because it would only push further into either one of Rody's hands. The pre-cum on his dick smeared around his entire length, making squelching noises that rapidly grew louder as Rody paced his hand up and down faster.
He couldn't think straight, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the heat pooling up inside of him threatening to spill at any moment. He was going to— "S-something's coming out!—"
Suddenly (and much to his absolute dismay), Rody pulled his fingers out and retracted his hand from Vincent's dick. He immediately let out a grunt of resentment at that—
"—Hnnk- ouh—"
—until Rody slammed his entire length inside in one go, and Vincent came on the spot. White stripes of cum painted the walls in front of him, and Vincent felt drool fall out of his mouth, half delirious.
He didn't have time to recover, however, as Rody pulled his arms back to use them as leverage. Slowly pulling out until just his tip was inside, Rody snapped his hips forward, and the collision was enough to make Vincent's eyes blur as he nearly went face-first into the wall. And he repeated the action, pistoning his girth in and out. Everytime without fail, the action rammed over his prostate, leaving that bundle of nerves stimulated to the point where it was becoming sore.
"F-fuck!— hunngh-" Overstimulated beyond belief, Vincent's tongue lolled out, letting out moans so loud they sounded more like screams of pleasure. Filthy. This was all filthy, and yet he found himself unable to feel repulsed by the situation. Instead, it only made him more aroused, in a sick sense. His dick, hanging limp just a moment ago, was hardening again. It was leaking at this tip, like a dam getting ready to burst. "—c-cumming, I'm cumming againnn—"
"T's quick, boss," Rody breathed out from behind, voice sounded strained. "You just did a min' ago... haah, you're clenchin' on m' tight..."
Seemingly struggling with the enveloping heat, Rody winced, sucked in a breath as he managed to pull out, and forced his dick in about where Vincent's prostate was. It must've been spot on, because his boss' legs went all crossy as he tightened impossibly more and shook as his member spurted out more cum, shoulders weakly shaking.
"...Almost there, Vince. Don' worry, 'm not lasting that much longer. Ya' feel t' good."
Vincent would've collapsed on the spot if it weren't for Rody's hands still encircling his forearms. "...Just take us to my bedroom."
"—haa- uung, hrk—"
Rody used his muscles to hold up one of Vincent's legs as he attempted to pound in as far as possible, his grunting overshadowed by the chef's own chorus of noises. Vincent scrabbled at the sheets, clutching them so tight his knuckles went white from the effort. Stars bursted behind his eyelids everytime Rody's thrusting nearly sent him hitting the headboard of the bed with the force of it.
"You c-came again, boss," Rody grit out. Vincent said nothing (probably couldn't, anyway), head pounding internally as his nose was bombarded with the waiter's pheromones. Though, if continuing to moan through it all counted as a response, then he did.
Back arched so far that his dick was able to touch the bedsheets, he squealed at the rubbing sensation that came about, the friction easier to access from all the fluids he released. "H- aahk!— Uh, uh—"
"C-can ya' feel ts', boss?" Rody asked from above him, his thrusts managing to go even faster with rapid succession, and Vincent only choked out a high-pitched moan as the grip around his hip became bruising. The punishing pace had him seeing random blurs bouncing at the back of his eyes. "M' gonna cum, gonna cum... Can I cum inside ya', Vince? I wanna do it."
Vincent only mumbled what he needed to say, completely out of it. "Hng— what're y-you going— haa‐ to knot in if you don't..."
Rody leaned down and laid his chin on Vincent's shoulder as his thrusts became more erratic, the waiter's hand snaking under his shirt to rub at one of his nipples. Vincent almost wailed at the contact.
"Cumming, cumming, cumming... boss, m' gonna get you pregnant," Rody mumbled right into his ear, and that was all it took for Vincent to spasm around him and release whatever he had left in him, dark spots blotting his vision. Rody gave one last push inside with a whimper, going in as far as possible before the base of his length swelled up as he came inside.
Vincent shivered as he felt the warm liquid spill inside of him, spent to the bone as he let his face rest on the bed, access tears dampening his resting spot.
Coming down from his high, Rody shifted away from his position off of Vincent's shoulder and hesitantly tapped him. "...You awake, boss?"
"What."
"Erm- okay, you are," The other said hastily, clearing his throat. "So, does this mean I, uh, I'm fired?"
"Just shut up, Rody."
Rody ignored that, to some extent. "I... okay. Sorry about this whole—" He tiredly waved his hands around. "Thing, if you know what I mean...?"
"Do I look like an idiot?" Vincent responded, voice hoarse. It sounded deeper than usual.
"W- no way!" Rody exclaimed, and then gently pulled his dick out once his knot went away. Vincent stiffled a groan by having his face on a pillow. "Just... stating the obvious, y'know?"
"Take us to the bathroom," Vincent said flatly.
"Yessir," Rody mumbled, lifting Vincent up to carry him. He noticed that the waiter's scent smelt of that same aroma that was akin to the aftermath of what they did, only it was less prominent. It smelt of an overflowing amount of love. Vincent scowled at it. "So, are you just an omega that doesn't produce slick? Because—"
"I'm a beta."
"Oh, you're a— wait, you're a what now?"
He wondered how much love Rody would feel at a certain dish he'd give him in a due amount of time.