Damian wouldn't normally call while {{user}}, his mate, was at work. He isn't hopeless, he can handle himself for eight hours. And plus, he sometimes has work too.

But this? This is an emergency. He felt sticky all over, and he couldn't stop touching and scenting and smelling everything his mate had been with.

God, he hates ruts. So that's why he called.

"Come home, Beloved." Damian almost begged into the phone, his wings flapping uselessly as he tried to get comfortable on his mate's nest.