He'd managed to get one hand free by the time Foggy blinked himself awake. Chewing with slow viciousness at the gag clenched between his teeth until he hushed him and fumbled with the double-knot. Yanking it down as the strings of Foggy's hair – sweaty and salt-streaked – brushed across the front of his mask.

"Matt-" Foggy slurred, heat signature flickering, dangerously close to fever-hot as something sweet and dark pooled in the pit of his stomach. Hating himself for basking in the wrecked syllables as his Alpha struggled with the name. His name. "Ma-Matt?"

"I'm here. I've got you, Foggy," he hummed, freeing one of the man's ankles from where it was zip-tied around the leg of the chair before Foggy's free hand shot out. Clumsy but surprisingly strong. Catching him by the pale of his throat, gently firm as the silent command caused him to freeze in place. It was instinctual and basic. Something he recognized deep in the very core of himself as he watched Foggy through the fan of his lashes. The dark of them fluttering prettily as the Alpha's chest rose and fell like a bellows.

"Matt…" Foggy breathed, inhaling audibly. Heart-rate jumping despite the crushing weight of whatever they'd dosed him with as he followed the line of his own arm down to where it cupped his throat.

Oh. The exclamation was silent but he felt it all the same. His inner Omega almost keening when instead of dropping the hand, Foggy's fingers only flexed, tracing the racing butterfly of his pulse as a soothing croon left cracked lips.

"Matty…" Foggy started, uncertain. Licking his lips as the last of it came out as a croak. "Is this-is this okay? I don't-"

"Fine, Foggy," he whispered, hands frozen around the second last zip-tie. Never meaning something so much in his life as he fought the urge to rub his face into his best friend's thigh. "It's fine."

Because it was fine.

It was.

And it wasn't.

Because Foggy was drugged and hours from his first rut since puberty and oh god-

"Matt, I just- I need to," Foggy halted, muscles twitching, restless under the skin as his head lolled – struggling to keep him in focus. Seeming to give up on words entirely when he let go of a hiss of frustration and surged forward.

He was brought up short, hands falling uselessly at his sides as Foggy reeled him in. Burying his face into the crook of his neck as his friend took a series of long, shuddering breaths. Mainlining him like he was oxygen as the Alpha scented him – bold and relieved. Broad chest rumbling against his as the chair creaked in warning.

"I was so worried, man… Christ, they said-" Foggy started, bruises shining through his skin like crimes committed. "I said- they were going to-"

It was the building panic in Foggy's voice that unstuck his throat. That made him reach up and grip the man in return. Fisting him tight and squeezing his eyes shut as he nosed along Foggy's hairline and tried to calm his racing heart.

"It's alright, Foggy, I'm fine, I'm here," he whispered, reedy and breathless. "I've got you. Let's get you somewhere safe, alright?"

He wasn't sure how, but he managed to stuff Foggy through the window of his apartment an indeterminable time later. He'd changed clothes on route. Considering it the lesser of more than a few evils as he pocketed his mask and pinched a jacket that was hanging, half-dried on someone's railing. Steering Foggy down back-alleys and switch-back shortcuts as the Alpha started to regain himself.

The smell of Foggy's rut was almost overpowering now. Sweet and thick and alluring. Just like he knew it would be. Already potent enough to draw attention from Betas and Omegas alike as they passed. Scenting the air with clear interest as their eyes flickered from Foggy, to him, then down to the growing tent in Foggy's trousers with an exaggerated drag.

It had been a bit too easy to play the part. To bare his teeth at anyone who strayed too close. Pretending to be the protective bondmate hustling their Alpha home before they ended up doing something indecent in public. Snapping and letting go of a series of soft, warning growls. The Omega in him visibly bristling – territorial - as Foggy hung onto him like a limpet. Keeping it up until the offenders either laughed, hands up in mock-surrender or decided to take their desires elsewhere. While inside he was practically seething with jealousy and guilty concern.

He'd left three messages on Claire's phone by the time they reached his building and Foggy had barely said a word. Big eyes cracked to slits as his breathing grew laboured and uneven. Practically dragging him up the fire escape when the man tried to bail by the third floor. Whining high and moody as he broke out into a feverish sweat, rut settling in with a vengeance.

"Just one more step, Foggy…come on," he urged, pulling up the broken latch on the window as Foggy tugged on his collar. Getting tangled up in his suit jacket as he tried to pull it off without giving up the death grip he had on his right shoulder. Snarling without heat when he made to pull away – springing through the window ahead of him so that he could guide his friend through.

He caught the tint of blood on the air when their hips brushed and Foggy bit through his lower lip. He shuddered, feeling their conjoined arousal ooze out into the open. It made him clumsy, frustrated, slamming the window closed behind them as Foggy puddled across the floor like a moving tide.

"Oh man…" Foggy murmured, fingers splaying out across the crappy laminate. Soaking in the relative chill as he rolled onto his back, clumsy fingers tangling with his belt. "I don't feel so good, buddy. I think I'm gonna-"

He wasn't sure if it was the smell or the rippling of the throat muscles that gave it away, but he sensed the surge of vomit before the Alpha started scrambling. Helping him get up and to the bathroom as Foggy retched up what sounded like everything he'd ever eaten in his entire life into the basin of his toilet.

They stayed like that for a long time. Foggy dry-heaving and murmuring nonsense into the rusty porcelain. And him holding onto Foggy by the shoulders and trying not to breathe. Making soothing sounds into the sweaty spikes of his hair, promising himself that whoever had done this would pay. Whoever had done this to them. To Foggy. Would get it all back ten-fold.

He'd make sure of it.

He force fed Foggy three glasses of water. Coaxing him through each swallow with wordless praise and lingering touches that seemed to motivate and frustrate in turn. Not above using whatever means necessary as he tried to remember if his basic first aid courses had ever covered anything close to- well, whatever this was.

Fluids were good right?

Flushing out the system?

Hydration?

Stay hydrated?

Wasn't that what they always said on the TV shows?

He called Claire two more times and watched Foggy take an impromptu nap on his kitchen floor. Wondering how much skin he'd have to show to get him onto the bed so that his back wouldn't hate him in the morning.

"Gotta tie me up, Matty," Foggy slurred, collapsing on the edge of the mattress – frame tilting dangerously until he shoved him over. Rolling him closer to the center like a human burrito as the man went without complaint. Too busy pushing his hips into the balled up curve of the silk sheets. Thrusting listlessly as his cock strained against the zipper of his undone pants.

"I'll want it- you," he groaned, looking painfully gorgeous against the – well, the saleslady had told him was a bold coal color - as he yanked off the loose knot of his tie and slithered out of his shirt. "I already want- want you. Please Matt…you smell so good and I don't-"

He shook his head, emphatic. A violent side to side that felt more like whip-lash as Foggy's heat signature rippled – like the slow spread of an oil slick on a scorching summer's day.

"Foggy, I can't, you can't ask me to-"

"I can-I am…" the man insisted, forcing the words through gritted teeth as the sudden sound of skin on skin echoed between the spaces in their breathing. Unable to do anything about the fact that his dick was straining against his fly. Not having to imagine what would cause it as the slick sound of pre-cum – musky, strong and virile – made him twitch. Itching to move as his fingertips caressed the air. Sensing the subtle change in every movement as Foggy's thumb circled the crown again and again.

He wet his lips. Wondering hazily what he must look like to Foggy. Flushed, wanting and uncertain as the Alpha jerked himself off in his bed. Smearing the sheets with his scent. Marking it. Claiming him. Was he watching? Did he know? Could he sense-

"I'm serious, Matt. I was half out of it when they dosed me the second time. I didn't let them know I was shakin' off whatever they gave me before. I know what they said. It's experimental and mmpph- I haven't had a rut in so long, who knows what I might-"

Somewhere down the street an Omega father soothed a crying child. Humming a soft lullaby as a door creaked open, allowing the Alpha mother inside. Speaking softly – tones worried – as the Omega murmured something about a low-grade fever.

"You won't," he firmed, feeling the truth of it, believing it even as Foggy writhed, head slamming back against the pillows. Flirting with the dusty air as the man inhaled sharply.

"I'm asking, buddy. Right here, right now. It's the smart call. I don't want to hurt you…I couldn't- Matt, please."

He had Foggy mostly strapped down, a mixture of belts and ropes gently padded with wash cloths and whatever was within reach clothing-wise when whatever was left of the Alpha's self-control snapped.

The man was bare under the thin cover of his sheets. The slide of skin on silk told him that. Highlighting it in all its glory as the Alpha's cock throbbed. Long, fat, proud and weeping at the slit as he started yanking on his bonds – whining between his teeth as his dick bobbed ineffectually. Unable to get the friction it needed as Foggy humped the air. Giving off arousal and need like smoke signals as something pulled at the very heart of him. Whispering. Telling him all he would have to do would be to submit. To help. Help his Alpha. His. He wanted to help Foggy, didn't he? It wasn't humane to watch him suffer. Foggy would understand that, wouldn't he? It wasn't right to let him go through it alone. Not when he could do something about it. Not when-

He licked his lips, mouth dry.

"Foggy, don't-"

The rattling growl was almost enough to put him on his knees. Wanting it. Needing it. Slick for it as a roll of lubrication trickled between his cheeks. He clenched on reflex. Knowing the man could smell it.

He closed his eyes, desperately trying to center himself as Foggy's scent fused itself into his senses. Permanent and damning as the Omega in him purred. His mate was strong. Virile. Worthy. Crowing with cocky pleasure as he answered the Alpha's scent with that of his own. Letting them intermingle in the muggy air as Foggy's growl lessened into a whine. Chuffing deep in his throat like a predator butting heads with its mate. Enjoying the closeness as they rubbed the proof of their union deep into the others fur.

He reached forward, cautious, hands spread as he made the movement slow and unthreatening. Showing the man what he was doing as he hovered overhead, slowly tightening the last buckle that held the man in place.

It was only when he made to pull away that Foggy lurched. Body snapping upwards, taut and screaming with pent up strength and aggression. Teeth missing the dip of his collarbone by half an inch as they bit down on empty air.

"You smell like mine," Foggy thrummed, breathless. Looking strangely content despite the violence of the movement. Still straining upwards even as he jerked back instinctively. Joy and hungry confusion edging for first place as the Alpha looked up at him. Rut settling – chemicals and pheromones swirling – as the realization, the truth of it ingrained itself bone deep.

"Mine. You smell like you're already mine. Matty, why-"

He rabbited, yanking himself away before he did something they'd both regret. Torn, wanting and hating himself all at the same time as Foggy let go of a confused burst of sound. Calling his name and pulling at the ropes that tied him to the headboard as he slid down to the floor on the other side of the door. Painfully hard, stomach roiling, pressing the re-dial button on his phone until he couldn't feel the tip anymore. Feeling the wrongness of it trickling down him like unholy water during communion as Foggy called out for him again and again.

Suddenly convinced that there were worse sins out there than the mortal ones.