You can't, [ he points out, struggling to stay upright, an instinctive part of him wanting to respond to the authority in keller's voice, wanting to just give in to his base nature. but the last time something like this happened, the last time he was off his suppressants during a heat, he'd wound up fucked by 75% of his teammates and then had to deal with that afterward. ] He can't, [ he adds to keller a moment later, but edges uncertainly forward anyway, unable to help himself.

his glance flicks between them, blue eyes glassy, face nearly as pink as his hair with the heat and need (and humiliation). ] I've already gone through the scenarios. He doesn't have the reserves left. [ his glance sharpens briefly on josh. ] You don't, don't pretend you do. [ not after the inhibitor and then healing quentin and his own injury.

he rubs his palms, sweating faintly, over the tops of his thighs, jaw clenching briefly at the distracting sensation. ] And it's.. happening too fast.