Chapter Text
“y/n,” Mark gasped, writhing in the hay of his stall. His horns dug into the earth below, scraping up dust and tamped down grass. His vision blurred before rolling back into darkness. Intermittent shudders wracked his body, making him gasp and moan. His next words were feeble and pathetic, a small, “please,” whimpered into the quiet of the barn.
Well, the almost quiet. A few stalls down, Ethan was biting his knuckles, doing his damndest to muffle his groans. It wasn’t fair. Mark could be loud, Mark could be needy, Mark could get attention whenever he wanted. What made him so special? What did he have that Ethan didn’t?
The answer was obvious. Mark had your affection. But even that was a threadbare mat against a snowstorm. After all, Ethan had been close to you too, once. Sure, it had been a few years since you’d really hung out, but he’d known you since childhood! If anyone deserved to be whining your name, it sure as hell wasn’t Mark.
Not that Ethan even wanted you that way, he just wanted Mark not to.
It was a pathetic type of jealousy, the kind that made him cringe at himself, annoyed that he would stoop so low. Still, he did nothing to stop his bony fingers from unlocking his stall, clopping towards Mark’s. His head felt clouded, full of cotton and need and desire. Mark’s whines grew louder, the pit in Ethan’s gut growing with them.
He barely had to touch Mark when he reached him, the man practically presenting himself to Ethan. Ethan swallowed, kneeling next to him. He took Mark’s hand in his own, looking into his heavy, black eyes. He knew what he had to do.
You scrubbed your face raw in the mirror, eyes open to the blurry, stinging reflection of your own tired face. You spit stray face wash into the sink, splashing warm water out of the bowl in the world’s worst excuse of a Neutrogena ad. You felt nothing.
There was a numbness to your internal monologue as you got ready for bed. Pulling off your shirt, ‘he could die,’ toeing off your socks, ‘he could calve,’ strapping on your wrist braces, ‘it wouldn’t be mine.’ That thought was unexpected, but not enough to shake you out of your stupor. It was the kind of thought that you’d reflect on later down the line and wonder why you never examined it until then, but for now, the only thought you cared about was the one telling you to sleep.
You didn’t bury yourself in your blankets as much as you let them consume you, and within minutes you were dead to the world; lost again to the blankets of your torpid mind.
*bzzt*
*bzzt*
*bzzt*
Your eyelids peeled open, squinting at the SMS messenger on you bedside table. You mentally cursed whoever was on the other side, before realizing belatedly that it could be Mark. That thought alone is what moved your arm from beneath the covers.
“hello?” your voice could’ve slain dragons, and the voice on the other end made you want to.
“y/n?” Ethan sounded like he was straining, “it’s Mark, he’s-”
You didn’t give him the opportunity to finish that sentence before you hung up the call. Rolling out of bed, you jammed your feet into a pair of old flip flops and made your way to the kitchen door. ‘mark,’ was more than enough information. Anything else would only annoy you.
Mark was heaving, his breaths growing raspier and more worrying by the second. Ethan grasped his hand tightly, that one point of contact seeming to be the only thing keeping Mark somewhat stable. Ethan had seen cows in heat before, but never so far along as Mark is. Tyler usually takes care of it before it gets to this point, but Ethan suspected that Mark’s heat was different.
:Mark?” y/n burst into the room, running and sliding on their knees to get to Mark quicker. “Mark? Talk to me, hon,”
Mark heaved, arching his back. The low he let out was so desperate that it made Ethan blush.
“y/n,” he moaned, gasping when y/n placed their hands on his shoulders. That small touch sent him shuddering, and Ethan was becoming uncomfortably aware of how wet his friend was.
He’d noticed it some, but that was hardly anything to pause at. Mark was in heat, after all. Now, though, was definitely giving Ethan some pause. He could hear it, the slick sound of Mark’s thighs rubbing together followed by the sticky sound of them parting. Ethan didn’t need to look down to know there were little webs of slick hanging between Mark’s legs. Ethan swallowed. That old jealousy was licking flames in his stomach.
Y/n didn’t pay Ethan much mind, devoted heart and mind to the man before them.
Mark’s hair clung in sweaty strands to his face, spider-webbing over his neck where his pulse jumped. You sat, frozen for a minute.
"T-Tyler, call Ty-"
"Already did, he's on his way, but..."
"But??"
"Mark's not the only cow in heat, he's moving as fast as he can, but-"
"Shit," you tuned Ethan out, the action being second nature to you. Of course. Of course Mark wasn't the only one. Still, he was the most urgent case, Tyler should know that, Tyler should-
"Y/n," Mark's hands clawed at your night shirt, yanking you closer. He panted, eyes wide and dark and watery and so, so desperate.
"Can't you do something about this?" Ethan's panicked-pitched voice squeaked behind you.
"How? I'm not a bull, I can't-"
"You have a dick, don't you?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Then use it! At least until Ty gets here,"
"I-" you thought about it, thought about what it would mean. You'd dreamed about this moment, of this exact scenario. As painful as it seemed, Mark was a vision when he was in heat, a vision that had the chance to be your reality.