Physiology of a Disaster

The cold lab light reflected off tiles that were way too clean. Everything was sterile, controlled, emotionless. Everything—except the two bodies at the center of the room.

Seth was way too relaxed for someone who’d nearly been suspended. Riven, far too tense for someone who claimed not to care.

The smell of chemicals couldn’t mask the rising discomfort boiling in Riven’s chest. His body throbbed in silence. A heat surged from deep inside, like steam rising through his bones. Every breath came with effort. As if the air itself had changed.

“Can you stop tapping that damn pen?” he snapped, after twenty minutes of silence, glaring at Seth like he was to blame for every single sensation.

“Can you stop looking at me like you're about to kill me?” Seth shot back, leaning against the counter. “I’m trying to work here.”

“You didn’t even bring your notebook,” Riven retorted. “Congrats. A genius at work.”

Seth frowned. “Shit… I forgot it in the room.”

“Perfect. More time wasted thanks to your irresponsibility.”

Seth stepped closer. “We can go get it. Two minutes, tops.”

Riven closed his eyes for a moment. His head pounded. His pulse raced for no reason. Seth’s scent seemed stronger now. Hot. Insistent.

This is wrong, he thought.

“Coordinator,” Seth called out. “Can I go grab my notebook? It’s in the dorm. If he comes with me, we can finish the report there. I swear I’ll turn it in complete.”

The coordinator observed them both. She knew the history. Knew the tension.

Still, she said:

“Go. Just don’t come back without that report.”

Seth nodded. Riven only grabbed his coat. His body temperature already warned—things were about to get worse.

Seth’s room had an almost comforting silence. Soft lighting, the bed neatly made, the window slightly open letting in a warm breeze. A space of control. Of order.

Riven walked in like someone stepping onto enemy territory.

His legs ached. His body felt wrapped in a blanket too hot to bear. Clothes clung to his skin. But he pretended to be fine. He always pretended.

Seth tossed the notebook onto the desk. “You can sit down. Try not to faint, okay?”

Riven ignored the tone but sat on the edge of the bed, stiff. His fingers gripped his own knees. His head tilted slightly forward. His breathing was heavier than he wanted to let on.

Seth noticed. “You’re seriously not okay. This isn’t just exhaustion.”

No response.

The alpha approached with caution. Confused, but not yet concerned.

“Hey,” he said, crouching in front of Riven. “You have a fever?”

Riven tried to speak. But the air felt too thick. His body vibrated. Like something inside was pulsing, demanding space. Demanding relief.

“I… don’t… know…” he murmured, low and breathless.

“Lie down for a bit,” Seth suggested. “Seriously. It’s cooler here than in the lab. If you pass out sitting like that, you’ll crash hard.”

Riven hesitated. His heart beat like a drum. His skin burned. But he gave in.

He lay down slowly, muscles tense like stretched cords ready to snap. His arm covered his eyes. His chest rose and fell like he’d just run a marathon.

Seth stood there, watching. Bothered by the strange feeling in the air. A discomfort he didn’t know how to name.

“You feeling better?”

Riven didn’t respond. But a sound escaped him.

Low. Ragged. Almost like he was holding back a scream.

And then… the scent came.

Faint. Warm. Sweet. Barely perceptible—but enough to make Seth stop breathing for a second.

He frowned. His gaze scanned the room, then landed back on Riven, who was sweating, curled up, gripping the sheets tightly.

Seth took a step back. But it was too late. Instinct had already caught on. His body had already reacted.

“Wait a minute…” he whispered, like his voice didn’t belong there. “Is this…”

Riven turned his face to the side, pressing it into the pillow. Trying to stifle another moan. The heat was unbearable now. His muscles quivered. His skin begged for touch, friction—anything.

“You’re… are you in heat?”

The question hung in the air like a ticking bomb.

Riven didn’t answer.

But his eyes were glassy, pupils dilated, face flushed. The shame was all there. Unhidden. And Seth… understood.

He stayed silent for a moment that felt way too long.

“You’re an omega?” he asked, voice lower now.

Riven breathed with difficulty. Then nodded—barely.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because everyone…” his voice cracked. “Everyone looks at me different. Expects something else. But I’ve never been that. Never been what people think omegas are supposed to be. All sweet and bubbly. You ever seen a 5’9” omega?”

Seth closed his eyes. The scent was stronger now. But not suffocating. Just… different.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Or better.

“Want me to leave?” he asked.

Riven gripped the sheets.

“No… being alone will make it worse. Just… don’t touch me.”

Seth nodded. But his hands were trembling.

And then, without thinking, he sat beside him. Didn’t speak. Didn’t tease. Just stayed there. Body on high alert. Heart pounding.

And even without contact… The touch had already begun.

The silence in the room was a living presence.

Seth could feel his chest rising and falling irregularly. That sweet, enveloping scent that had once been subtle now clung to his skin like dense heat. No open window could clear it out. No excuse could mask it.

Riven’s heat was spreading. Growing stronger. And something inside Seth had started to respond.

“You’re getting worse,” he muttered, not looking directly at him.

Riven lay on his side, his shirt slightly pulled up, exposing the pale skin of his waist. He trembled. His breathing was shallow. His hands clutched the pillow tight, knuckles turning white.

“It’s… normal,” he said weakly. “It starts like this. Slow. But… it’s never been this strong…”

That last sentence came out in a hoarse whisper. Almost like… a cry for help.

Seth leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to keep his distance. But his body was reacting—skin hypersensitive, stomach twisting, heat crawling up his spine.

“No. You’re not like this. You don’t even like omegas. You never have.”

But the scent said otherwise.

The scent… challenged everything.

“Riven…” he called.

Riven turned his face, eyes heavy.

Vulnerable.

A kind of brutal beauty there—stripped of all usual arrogance.

Just pain. Desire. Shame. And… desire again.

Seth leaned in. A little. Just a little.

“You… need help?”

Riven pressed his lips together.

And shook his head.

“I don’t want to be… marked. I just… just need some time. It’ll pass soon.”

Seth took a deep breath.

But it was already too late.

The pheromones were everywhere now.

They were no longer just a warning. They were an invitation.

An invisible bond stretching, pulling, binding them.

And then Seth felt it.

His own body igniting.

A sudden wave of arousal. A jolt up his spine. Skin tingling. Riven’s scent activating every cell—his alpha instincts sparking like wildfire.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Now it’s me…”

Riven stared at him, alarmed.

“You…?”

“I’m going into heat too,” Seth said, his voice hoarse.

Time froze.

For a second, they just breathed.

Riven trembled. Seth clenched his fists.

They were trapped. One by his body. The other by reaction.

“You have to go,” Riven said, tense. “Now.”

“I can’t,” Seth replied. “It’s like… like my body wants to stick to yours.”

Riven gasped. The alpha scent was strong now too.

Different. Overpowering.

And it shattered every last defense.

“Seth…” Riven’s voice broke, his whole body trembling.

Seth moved closer.

Touched his face. Gently. As if the world would shatter with the wrong move.

Riven bit his lip. But said nothing.

Because it all hurt less when he didn’t move.

Seth leaned down. His face brushing against Riven’s neck.

The scent was unbearable.

And perfect.

A venom made just for him.

“Just one touch,” he whispered.

The room no longer had air.

The soft light behind the curtains trembled, as if it were witnessing something it shouldn’t see. The bodies, there, were no longer at war—but not at peace either. It was something in between. A minefield where every touch was a choice.

Seth sat beside Riven, his hands pressed into the mattress like he was anchoring himself to his own sanity.

His heat, triggered by Riven’s presence, was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Raw, untamed, inevitable.

Riven was panting. His shirt soaked with sweat clung to his body, revealing subtle curves and tense muscles. His pupils dilated. His neck flushed. His legs trembled slightly.

He was trembling with every wave of heat ripping through him. His skin was fire. His eyes, ice.

And then Seth… Seth smiled.

Not tenderly.

But with mischief.

"Funny," he said, leaning slowly, his lips just inches from Riven’s ear. "You’re always so tough. So untouchable. And now you’re here… all sweaty, trembling… begging without a single word."

Riven squeezed his eyes shut.

"Shut up."

Seth chuckled lowly.

"Didn’t know recessive omegas cried out for touch too. Thought you were immune to lust, remember? Or did you lie to yourself all this time?"

Riven turned his face with difficulty, his eyes blazing.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Oh, I will," Seth replied, voice slow and mocking. "But right now… you’re the one who wants it."

Riven tried to push him, but his arm gave out. His body no longer obeyed.

Seth grabbed his wrist firmly, but not roughly. Leaning in even closer. His face was just millimeters away.

"Want to hear the truth, Valemont?"

Riven stayed silent. His breathing uneven. His gaze lethal.

Seth smiled.

"I’ve waited so long to see you like this. Vulnerable."

And before Riven could reply, Seth kissed him.

A quick kiss. Deep. Burning. Not a request. A conquest.

Riven arched with the impact, a moan escaping his throat—low and wet. And Seth… took advantage.

When he pulled away, Riven’s eyes were wide, stunned.

"Idiot…" he whispered, voice trembling.

Seth ran his thumb over his lips, still damp.

"You call me that. But you’re the one who moans when I touch you."

The taste of the kiss still burned on Riven’s tongue. He turned his face, panting, rage trapped in his eyes and desire stuck in his throat.

The heat pulsed deeper now, stronger. Like every cell was screaming for contact, for friction, for… him.

"You think this proves anything?" he snapped, trying to sound cold. But his voice shook.

Seth smiled.

That smile. That damn smile of someone who knows they’ve won.

Riven tried to push him, but his arm gave out. His body no longer obeyed.

Seth grabbed his wrist firmly, but not roughly. He leaned in even closer. His face was just millimeters away.

"Want to hear the truth, Valemont?"

Riven stayed silent. His breathing was uneven. His gaze, lethal.

Seth smiled.

"I've waited so long to see you like this. Vulnerable."

And before Riven could reply, Seth kissed him.

A quick kiss. Deep. Burning. Not a request. A conquest.

Riven arched with the impact, a moan escaping his throat—low and wet. And Seth... took advantage.

When he pulled away, Riven's eyes were wide, stunned.

"Idiot..." he whispered, voice trembling.

Seth ran his thumb over Riven's lips, still damp.

"You call me that. But you're the one who moans when I touch you."

The taste of the kiss still burned on Riven's tongue. He turned his face away, panting, rage trapped in his eyes and desire stuck in his throat.

The heat pulsed deeper now, stronger. Like every cell was screaming for contact, for friction, for... him.

"You think this proves anything?" he snapped, trying to sound cold. But his voice shook.

Seth smiled.

That smile. That damn smile of someone who knows they’ve won.

He leaned in again, until his body was between Riven's legs, hands pressing into the bed beside his head.

"Didn’t you call me a 'spoiled brat with no virility'?" Seth said, his voice thick. "A 'fake alpha'? A 'big ego with no bite'?"

Riven clenched his teeth, cheeks flushed, body taut.

Seth moved even closer. His thighs pressed against Riven's hips.

"Then prove it," he whispered against Riven’s lips. "Prove I’m not a real man."

Riven let out a low moan. The scent between them was overwhelming now. Intoxicating. Blended. Ready.

"You’re not..." Riven started, voice breaking.

And that was the last drop.

Seth grabbed him by the nape and kissed him again.

No subtlety. No mercy. A bruising, desperate, feral kiss.

Riven writhed under him, the heat turning resistance into need. His hips lifted to meet Seth’s body, his chest heaving.

"Tell me you don’t feel it," Seth muttered against his mouth. "Tell me your body’s not begging."

Riven gripped his shoulders, nails digging in. The scent was unbearable now. Hot, thick, maddening.

"You bastard..." he gasped.

"But I’m a man, huh?"

Another kiss. Fiercer. Seth's hands gripped Riven’s waist. Their bodies flush. Both trembling.

The room became a dome of heat and muffled moans.

The scent was thick, damp, far too sweet to ignore. Their pheromones had become a trap, an invisible noose drawing tighter and tighter—demanding release.

Seth hovered above Riven, holding his hips, their faces magnetized, breaths tangled in want. But his eyes... They were wide open.

As if he couldn’t believe what he was doing. Or what he was feeling.

Riven felt like he was fighting his own body. But now... he wasn't pushing anymore. He wasn't saying no. He wasn't resisting.

"Seth..." he murmured, eyes half-closed, lips parted. "Don't mark me."

"I won't," Seth said, his voice low and primal. "But I'm going inside you. Right now."

A shiver ran through Riven’s entire body. Tension turning to anticipation.

Seth's fingers slid over his waist, slick skin, up his ribs. His lips grazed Riven's neck—where the scent was strongest. Most intimate. Most his.

Riven moaned. His fingers clawed at the sheets. The heat now a storm ripping through his nerves.

"Look at me," Seth whispered, their faces aligned.

Their hips aligned.

They both let out a strangled, husky sound.

And then... Time broke.

There was no rush. No violence. Only intensity.

Each movement was slow at first—a question. Then deeper, hungrier—an answer to everything they'd denied.

Riven moaned into Seth's skin, teeth scraping his shoulder, eyes feverish. Seth murmured words he didn't know he knew: "You're mine now." "Look what you do to me." "So fucking ruined and so fucking perfect."

There was no mark. But there was possession. And surrender.

When they reached the peak, it was shattering.

Riven's body arched, his moan choked with tears. Seth buried his face in his neck, lightly biting the flushed skin. His body trembled. So did his soul.

They stayed there, clinging, panting, existing. No words. No need for any.

The heat had passed. But what remained... was far more than instinct.

It was feeling. A bond. The start of something neither could name.

The room was quieter now.

The air no longer heavy. The heat gone. But the scent lingered—warm, soft, too intimate to forget.

Riven sat at the edge of the bed, wearing Seth's shirt—too big at the shoulders, too short at the waist. His hair clung to his forehead, still damp. He rubbed his face like trying to wake from something that wasn't a dream, but wasn’t quite real either.

"How long are you gonna mope like that?" Seth asked from the chair, sprawled like an insufferable king after conquering forbidden land. An alpha on a throne of poorly won war.

Riven turned his head slowly. His look was a blade dipped in venom. Not pure rage—worse: disappointment masked as arrogance.

"Say one more word, Lancaster... and I’ll shove this chair so far up your overblown ego you’ll taste the cushion."

Seth raised an eyebrow. Didn't move.

"Hm. Post-sex violence. Classic," he smirked. "Let me guess. You were thinking about political revolution the whole time."

Riven scoffed. Looked down. Grabbed his pants from the floor. His hand trembled slightly. He hated that. He dressed quickly. Like trying to erase his own body.

"That wasn’t sex. That was... a physiological disaster. Involuntary. A neurological misfire."

Seth laughed. Low. Almost sad.

"Right. You moan, beg, come undone, and now it's muscle spasms. Totally convinced, Valemont."

Riven shot him a deadly glare.

"You're still a bastard."

"And you’re still an omega pretending not to feel. Shame I know exactly what you sound like when you do."

The sentence hit like a muffled gunshot.

Riven froze mid-movement. Hands on his waistband. His pale face flushed down to the neck.

"Shut up, Seth," he said, voice low, laced with poison.

Seth stood. Slowly. Walked toward him. Stopped inches away.

Didn’t touch. But his gaze burned.

"Just so you know..." he whispered, voice tinged with irony and rawness. "If you ever want to test my 'lack of virility' again... I'll show you. No rush."

Riven clenched his jaw. Swallowed pride. Hated losing control. Hated even more that he liked it.

He grabbed his backpack. Walked to the door. Hand on the knob, he said without turning:

"Next time... leave me alone."

Seth smiled. Small. Real.

"Not a chance."

Riven opened the door.

"Idiot."

"You tremble for me. But it’s okay to pretend you don’t."

And then he left.

Leaving behind a room full of crumpled sheets, scent in the air, and breath still echoing in the walls.

Seth stayed there. Alone.

He ran his hands through his hair. Sighed.