Summary:

“Say yes,” Ilya says, and he can hear the pleading quality of his tone, hoping that Hollander doesn’t notice. He can hear and feel the way Hollander breathes from Ilya’s throat, no doubt taking in his scent. Ilya hasn’t ever given much thought to his scent before now; omegas seem to enjoy it, yes, but he’s more conscious of it right now, because does Hollander enjoy it? It’s quiet, so quiet Ilya almost misses it, and yet so loud that it might as well be a shout in Ilya’s ears when Hollander mutters, “Yes.” Ilya feels a rush of endorphins flood him, a ringing in his ears of yes good fuck take—but he wills himself to remain calm, to not scare Hollander off. “Then come, omega,” Ilya hums, curling his fingers around Hollander’s nape possessively. “Let’s get you fucked.” OR Ilya's POV