Chapter 62 Ruts and masturbating.

Chapter 62: Chapter 62 Ruts and masturbating.

Noah leaned against the bathroom door, heart racing. "Oh Christ, that was so intense. I am so screwed." He raked a hand through his fallen strands of purple hair and let out a long sigh. He paced around the small space near the toilet, feeling completely lost.

He had no idea how any of this worked. How males handled these kinds of intense situations. As embarrassing as it sounded, he had been a virgin his entire life, even back in the modern world. No girlfriend—absolutely not. His mind had briefly wandered there, but he pushed the thought away quickly. He didn’t have a guy in his life either. All he had known before was money, his favorite Prada and Chanel pieces he would probably never see again, his books, and his annoying sister.

Now he was thrown into this omegaverse world without any real knowledge. He had once come across stories about male pregnancy out of curiosity, wanting to laugh at the concept and mock the genre. Yet here he was, living it as an omega. The reality felt overwhelming.

"Oh my days..." he whispered.

"Wait, what the hell? Am I a top or a bottom? Don’t omegas usually take the receiving role? Oh fuck, I haven’t even figured any of this out. And with these four alphas, none of them would bend for me. So obviously it would be me." The mere thought of being that close with them made his knees weak. He felt like he could collapse at any moment.

No. He wasn’t coming out of the bathroom. Whatever happened, he would restrain himself. He refused to give in, but he wondered how long he could actually hold out. His body burned from the inside. Focusing on two coherent thoughts felt impossible. The heat kept pulling his attention downward.

Maybe cold water would help. It could wash away some of the anxiety and stress. He moved quickly to the shower, stripping off his soft long-sleeve shirt and pants. His hair fell in loose waves as he turned on the water. Cool streams hit his skin, offering a small measure of relief.

He could hear faint whispers from the alphas outside. They seemed to be struggling with their own issues, but Noah tried to block it out. He would handle his own problems while they dealt with theirs.

The heat refused to fade completely. As water poured over him, the sensations only grew stronger.

Outside in the main room, the tension among the alphas kept rising. Marcus rolled uncomfortably on the large bed, voice strained. "Can you please help me with this? Just... use your hands. I can’t take it anymore."

Damian grimaced. "Absolutely not, dude. You’re like a brother to me. Why would I do something like that?" He started pacing the room, clearly fighting his own discomfort.

"There’s no one else here, and I can help you too. We all know Ashton isn’t coming out of that bathroom anytime soon. I can’t handle this torture." Marcus’s voice grew louder with frustration as he shifted restlessly.

"It doesn’t feel normal. We’re friends—wouldn’t it be weird?" Damian hesitated, slowly calming down but still tense.

"Oh come on, it won’t be. We’re not brothers, just friends. Just help me through this. I can’t get any relief on my own. Please, dude." At the last moment, Damian finally gave in slightly.

Killian’s expression changed as he stared at the closed bathroom door. He tried imagining ways to ease his own building pressure but came up empty. Instead, he recalled the brief moment earlier when Noah’s hand had brushed against his cock. The spark that had shot through his body felt vivid. He hummed softly, eyes closing as the memory helped.

"Yeah... like that," he murmured. He spread his legs and got more comfortable, not caring that the others were in the room. They were all dealing with the same situation anyway.

He let his imagination take over, picturing Noah close to him again. The thought brought a wave of relief, and he breathed through it.

Eugene stood in the corner, eyes wide with shock at the sounds filling the room. "Is he using some kind of memory or what? Damn it, why isn’t Ashton here? I’m dying." He was the last one still fully standing while the others had moved to the bed.

Damian had joined Marcus. The two of them lay there, trying to help each other through the overwhelming sensations in a desperate, awkward way. "Dude, I’m never doing this again. It’s only because of how bad this rut is. Otherwise, nah," Damian muttered.

Marcus stayed quiet, focusing on getting through the moment. At least this was something. It felt better than suffering alone.

"Wow, that’s...an impressive length," Marcus commented lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Damian frowned immediately. "Don’t make me stop. I’m barely doing this as it is." Marcus shut up after that.

The sounds in the room grew heavier. Eugene covered his ears, sliding down to the floor. "I think I’m going insane. I’m so going insane," he whispered repeatedly. His mind felt like it was tearing apart at the seams. He couldn’t look at the others. The fragile control he usually held onto was slipping fast.

Unable to stay there any longer, he crawled toward the bathroom door in a pathetic but desperate move. He needed Noah more than ever. Unlike the others, he didn’t think he could last alone.

"Please, Ash... please come out," he begged, knocking weakly at first, then louder. "Please, Ashton. I need your help. Eugene needs you. I’ll help you too. Please." His knocks grew more urgent, but the only reply was the continuous sound of running water from the shower.

Eugene stopped, hugging himself tightly as he shook. "Okay... just breathe. Think of a scene." He tried remembering the time he had been trapped with Ashton and Killian in that strange compartment. Maybe reliving that moment in his mind would help. But the memories felt distant and foggy, offering no real relief.

"Fuck this," he muttered. He stopped fighting and let the exhaustion take over. Staggering to his feet, he fell onto the bed and allowed himself to drift in and out of uneasy thoughts.

Meanwhile, Noah remained lost in the shower. His mind raced through so many worries that he barely noticed the water turning colder. Suddenly, a hand moved gently to his thigh, cupping his cock lightly.

"You’re wet, and I love it," a familiar voice said softly.

Right in front of him, kneeling, was Phillip—or rather, the fake persona known as Lysander Valmont. His presence felt too real in the moment.

"Let me help you and get you out of this misery." Before Noah could protest, the figure leaned in close, mouth taking his cock completely offering a kind of comfort that made Noah shudder and let out a long, intense breath.

"Fucking good... that’s so good," Noah whispered, caught between reality and the overwhelming vision.