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“What the fuck do you mean I’m locked out?”
“What I said, son. The medics won’t release your next round of suppressants until you’ve cleared your system so until then, I'm putting 141 on standby.”
“This is shite, Price. Absolute shite. They’re going to sideline an entire team because of this? We’ve got actionable intel. If they sideline us, the leadership goes underground again and we lose our best lead in months.”
Price watched as Simon stood, kicking his chair across the floor, slamming into a filing cabinet with a hollow metallic clang. Price knew that Ghost wasn’t really angry. He was shit scared. Price was one of the few alive who knew about Ghost’s issues with his heats. He’d respect that trust by giving him a degree of leeway no one else would ever get from the Captain. Sighing, Price leaned forward and set his smoldering cigar in the ashtray.
“Why don’t you ask Soap to help you?”
Ghost tossed his head with a scoff.
“He doesn’t want to do that.”
Now Price was the one to scoff, and he picked up the cigar, taking a puff and holding it in his mouth. Finally, Ghost turned away from the dented up file cabinet he’d been contemplating and turned back to his Captain.
“Does he?”
There was a vulnerability there that Price hasn’t heard in months, not since he floated the idea of bringing the Sergeant on full time after their successes in Mexico and Chicago. Not since he watched his Lieutenant lean his shoulder against the smaller Alpha in the dingy bar, not since he’d seen him fast asleep on the plane back, head tipped toward MacTavish, and MacTavish’s soft expression as he shifted to provide a more stable resting place.
Letting the smoke plume out of his mouth like a dragon from a bygone era, he nodded his head, holding Simon’s gaze. When he spoke, his voice was soft.
“Ask him, son. I’m fairly certain he won’t turn you away.”
Price could see him waver, nearly there. Making up his mind, he slouched in his chair and set the cigar at the corner of his mouth again.
“And if I’m wrong, I’ll get you enough sedatives to sleep through your heat. And I’ll sit outside your door til it’s through. But if I'm right, you don't wait so long next time, yeah?”
Ghost looked away at his offer, but he jerked his head in a sharp nod before turning and walking out of Price’s office, head high and shoulders determined. Humming, Price tipped his head back and blew a smoke ring at the lazily spinning ceiling fan.
“Go get ‘em, Simon.”
~~~
Ghost stalked down the halls like a man on a mission, and in a very real way, he was. He needed to have this settled, and soon. He could already feel the cramping in his lower back as his body shifted toward his heat, preparing him for what was to come. His appetite was fierce, had been for days, but it was finally easing off, the desire to pack in some extra calories to tide him over for what’s coming finally easing up, and his skin had gone even more sensitive than usual, even the soft inner layers of his uniform chafing at him, warned him he had maybe one more day before he was dropped head first into his first unmedicated heat in several years. At the back of his head, his instincts shrieked that he was running out of time.
His ears perked up when he heard Soap’s laugh up ahead, and he spotted him across the way, standing just inside the door to the chow hall, surrounded by trainees, half of which didn’t even look old enough to have presented. Or maybe it was just him, feeling his age, and the weight of all the shit life’s flung into his lap. He watched as Soap threw his head back in a deep belly laugh at something one of the kids said, and he wanted that to be because of him, not some snot nosed brat who barely knew which end of the rifle was the correct one. He shook himself back into motion, not realizing he’d even stopped, and crossed the last few steps to his Sergeant, standing just behind and to the side of him, running assessing eyes over the faces gathered around them.
One of them, one of the smarter ones, clocked his presence and straightened to attention, eyes averted. The others caught on, and it was actually Soap who was the last to notice, spinning on his heel with a confused frown. It disappeared when he saw Ghost, and he grinned, wide enough to show off his molars.
“LT! Just sharing some stories with the boys, aye? Gotta let ‘em know what they’re in for.”
Ghost grunted, but didn't object.
“Sergeant. Could use your help if you’re available. Gonna need you for a few days.”
“A mission?”
“Something like that.”
~~~
Ghost cursed at himself as he walked away, the sound of Soap’s boots just a step or two behind him. A mission!? Surely he could have thought of something better. A fucking mission. Snorting to himself, he shook his head. Soap’s steps behind him sped up and Ghost felt him bump their shoulders together.
“Share the joke, LT.”
Ghost shook his head, but looked over at Johnny as they walked, taking in his expression, the way his body language was open and relaxed, and felt his own shoulders lower as well, the way they always did when he got a noseful of the man. Ghost had always been shit at identifying scents, and was worse with each broken nose, but there was something about him that scented like safety. Like home. And it gave him enough courage to bump him back, sharing their scent between them, telling anyone who might come across them later that ‘Ghost was here’.
Ghost fished his key from his pocket and unlocked his door, walking in and shucking his jacket with a sigh of relief, glad to have the weight off his skin. He dropped onto the edge of his bed and leaned forward, unlacing one boot and then the other. When he looked up, Soap was still standing in the doorway, eyes moving around the room curiously, but making no effort to enter.
“You can come in, Johnny.”
Ghost saw it when Soap’s face brightened at the use of the name he only ever allowed Ghost to use, and he stepped through the doorway, breaking that boundary and giving Ghost something he never thought he’d be comfortable offering, the scent of an Alpha in his space. He’d never even let Price come in before, not willing to violate the sanctity of his room, to taint the pure unspoiled scent of Omega that was so deeply ingrained in the walls and floor that they’d need to tear it down to studs if he ever gave up the space. But now, he could almost see it as the scent of the Alpha, the Alpha he wanted to be *his* Alpha, layered on top of his own scent, giving it a new depth.
Soap grabbed for Ghost’s lone chair, spinning it around and plopping onto it, arms crossed over the back.
“So what’s the mission?”
Ghost sat up, chewing at his lip. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
“It’s time sensitive, and crucial that it be handled with kid gloves. Lots of moving parts.”
Soap nodded, eyes focused as his mind started to turn over the bits of information.
“Makarov?”
“Me.”
Soap blinked at him for several long, heart pounding seconds before he spoke, and Ghost waited for the refusal. It would be kind, but it was still going to hurt like a bitch.
“Alright. Tell me more.”
And what? That wasn’t what he’d expected. Soap sounded curious, and ready, and not all that dissimilar to how he usually sounded when faced with an unexpected challenge.
“Is this to do with our current stand down, Sir?”
Ghost could only nod, not sure how to start. Soap, who was ridiculously good at reading him, even when he was fully geared up, nodded easily.
“So, most likely not an injury, since you were fine when we got back day before, and hopefully, not a family issue?”
His head was cocked, waiting for an answer and Ghost snorted wryly, shaking his head.
“No family left, Sergeant.”
Soap settled his chin on the back of his hands and stared at Ghost's face intently. Finally, something shifted in his face as he appeared to make up his mind, straightening in the chair and blanking his face.
“Does it have anything to do with the way you scent of rising heat?”
Ghost sucked in a shaky breath but nodded his head. His patches had finally failed on the plane ride back to base, and when he’d reported to medical for fresh ones, he’d been told he needed to speak to his Captain. He couldn’t force himself to raise his eyes, and when he heard Soap stand up, his heart fell right down into his untied boots. Now was when Soap turned, opened his door and walked away. Chewing at his lip, he waited for the squeak of his door knob. Instead, he saw the toes of Soap’s boots come into his line of sight, directly between his feet. And then Soap was squatting between his knees, carefully, cautiously cupping Ghost’s chin and tipping his head back to look at him.
“And you want this?” he said, gesturing between them.
Ghost just nodded, still caught off guard that he agreed. But. He didn't know the whole thing, couldn’t know what he’s offering, and Ghost couldn't work up the guts to tell him.
Drop him in the middle of 30 hostiles with nothing but his boots and a pocket knife, and he could come out victorious, but this? Talking about all the ways his body’d been taken from him, the ways it kept disappointing him, failing him in the most humiliating ways? He couldn’t.
“Go talk to Price. Get the intel from him. Tell him I said please. And when you’re done, if you still agree to help me, come back.”
~~~
Ghost lost track of time after Johnny left, mind spinning and whirling as he tried to figure out what part of how damaged he is would be his breaking point, the one he couldn’t look past. Would it be that he can’t bear to be held down? Couldn’t hold presentation pose after being bound in that position for days? The way he both wanted and feared the idea of teeth at his throat? How his torso was littered with patches of scar tissue, screaming to the world that he wasn’t the kind of Omega you kept, merely the kind you used, an experiment, a curiosity, a freak?
Or would it be the simple fact he couldn’t slick anymore, a failure his doctors couldn't exactly explain, a possible manifestation of his trauma, a permanent reminder of how fucked up he was, the same way he had to be mindful of his heart rate when he got too hot, or the way his knee clicked loud enough to be audible on cold mornings, just more signs of how he’d been treated in the past? Or would it be- Ghost’s thoughts screeched to a halt at the sound of the quiet knock at his door and Ghost forced himself to stand up, walk to the door and meet the news like an adult, not like a sniveling pup desperate for his mother.
When he swung the door open, Soap was there, and Ghost couldn't help the surge of gratitude that he’d at least decided to break the news in person. And it would be breaking the news, if the crinkle of his nose and the blank expression on his face were anything to go by. Ghost waited, hanging in the silence as he waited for Johnny to tell him he couldn’t help, that he couldn't handle it, that he didn’t want to have to deal with Ghost’s baggage, his bullshit, his pai-.
“I’m still in, Sir. Price gave me the complete rundown.”
Ghost stood, gripping the door frame to keep his feet under him as he blinked dumbly at his Sergeant.
“What.”
It wasn’t even a question, just a feeble word, handing in the air between them. And then Soap smiled, small and sweet and private, and nodded to the room behind him.
“Can I come in, Sir? We should probably talk.”
~~~
Ghost let himself be led back to the bed, to be settled onto the stiff mattress with nearly no resistance. And Johnny just kept helping, tugging off his untied boots, pulling his gloves free of his damp hands, settling curious fingers under the edge of his hardshell and then pausing, waiting for permission. Ghost nodded, and Soap peeled the mask free of his face and set it aside reverently, callused fingertips slipping over the cream of the hardshell. Finally, he looked back over at him and smiled again.
“Hello, Simon. Thank you for asking me in.”
Ghost, no, he was Simon now, wasn’t he? Simon nodded.
“Did he tell you? How I can’t- How I-”
“How you have certain needs he was confident I could meet to help you successfully navigate this experience, Sir? He did. And I know I’m confident in our ability to work together too. Seems like the only one who maybe isn’t fully on board is you.”
And Johnny’s voice was so soft, so kind, and Simon swallowed back the tears he could feel building behind his eyes.
“You’re not-”
Mad, Disgusted, Angry.
“-disappointed?”
Soap scoffed, a quiet sound in his throat and shook his head.
“Could never be, LT. I was honored you asked.”
Soap tipped his head and laughed kindly.
“Now, what do you need me to do?”
The scent of Alpha was filling the space between them and Ghost could feel himself warming up, softening toward him when his midsection gave a twisting lurch that made him wince, and Johnny was looking at him with concern, seeing the expression on his bare face for the first time, and it was suddenly just too much, and Ghost pushed himself to his feet, bumping Johnny and unsettling his balance, and Ghost darted around him to his bathroom, slamming the door and locking it.
There was silence for a few heartbeats as Ghost pressed his forehead to the door between him and waited for Soap to leave, for the sound of the door closing, not sure why he’d just done that. He trusted Soap with his back in the field, knew he was always there for him, so why was it so fucking hard to let down his guard and let him in? Why was it so fucking hard to just open his mouth and fucking spit it out, the way his father had always screamed at him when he was a child, jaws clamped shut around the words he desperately wanted to be able to speak? He could feel wetness track down his cheeks, cool on his heated skin, and he blinked furiously, swiping at his cheeks roughly.
“Ghost? Simon? Are you alright? Is is nausea? Or cramps? Or do you want me to give you some…privacy?”
Ghost blushed lightly at the hesitation in his voice. That unfortunately, was an unavoidable part of the process as his body shifted from digestion to reproduction, but they weren’t there quite yet, and he ground his forehead against the door before he reached deeply and tugged up every bit of strength he could muster, forcing the words out.
“Give me a bit, yeah?”
Ghost could hear his boots squeak against the tile as he shifted before he spoke.
“Alright. I’ll grab your keys and lock up behind me. Gonna go collect a few things and I’ll be back in a bit to check on you.”
Soap spun on his heel and walked off, and Ghost listened to his progress around the room, the jingle of his keys, the sound of his chair being moved back to the desk, the clunk of the door shutting, and then finally the faint grind as his lock turned, leaving him safe behind two layers of locked doors. Ghost caught his reflection in the mirror above his sink and grimaced. If he was gonna go through with this, he might as well be clean.
~~~
Ghost stayed in the shower until he was pink all over, and his fingers were wrinkly and soft. He made a mental note to thank Price for the on demand water heaters as he turned and let the stream catch the small of his back where his muscles felt knotted and sore, groaning as something gave. Above the sound of the water, he could hear the sound of a knock and sighed, flipping the water off and sliding the shower curtain aside with a screech.
“Alright in there? Do I need to pick the lock? Ghost?”
Ghost stepped on to the bath mat and picked up the towel, patting himself dry.
“M’allright. Just sore.”
He said it easily enough and then blinked, surprised at how simple it was. And through the door, he heard Soap hum.
“Well, come out and let's see if I can’t help with that.”
Ghost wrapped the towel around his waist and crossed to the door, turning the lock and opening it to see Soap standing beside his desk, hands stuffed into his pockets as he waited, head tipped to the side. Ghost stood, completely arrested by what Soap had done while he was in the shower, the baskets of easy to digest high calorie foods and drink ready by the bed, the extra cushions he can see piled over a pile of waterproof blankets, and the smaller basket of bottles he can’t quite read. He was silent, not even sure where to start, completely blown away by the amount of thought Johnny had shown.
“If you hate it, I can take it all back ut, just thought you might like-”
“I love it.”
And he wasn’t lying, the heaps of soft blankets and pillows and cushions arranged around his bed in a haphazard nest. The attempt was rudimentary, and Ghost was close enough to give in to his Omega’s urging, grabbing blankets and straightening edges, moving pillows to where they suited, building shallow walls with the pillows until he was content. Once he was satisfied with where everything was, he climbed in, sitting in the middle and running his hands over everything, layering his scent over the absence spots, chasing away the blankness. But something was wrong, and he turned his head, examining everything, not sure what he needed to make it better. He was about to climb back out when a piece of black fabric was held out in front of him and he stopped when the strong scent of Alpha, of Safe, of Johnny hit him. Grabbing it, he wadded it up and pushed his face into it, letting it soak into his skin. This was what had been missing. At the side of the bed, Johnny waited, and Ghost pulled his face out of the shirt, cheeks flushed.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
Soap tossed his head and waved Ghost’s words away.
“I know that. I wanted to. I’ve had this set aside for months. Was waiting for you to tell us you were taking heat leave to give it to you. But you never did, so I was actually planning to drop it to a local Omega’s shelter next week. Glad I waited.”
Ghost pressed the shirt back over his nose and watched Johnny watch him, eyes bright and pleased Ghost liked his gift. He set a knee on the edge of the nest and waited for Ghost to welcome him in, freezing when Ghost shook his head. Taking a step back, he wiped the brief expression of loss of his face and nodded.
“Alright. Do you want me inside the door or outside?”
Ghost’s face crumpled at his tone and he looked down at the shirt in his hands. Did Soap think he didn’t want him here? Was the shirt all he got? He tried to explain, feeling the words freeze in his throat and swallow, pressing the shirt back over his mouth and nose, breathing through it, letting it calm him. Looking up over the material, he answered.
“Want you in the shower, Alpha.”
~~~
By the time Johnny came out of the bathroom in a billow of steam and scent, Ghost was dozy in the nest, one of the softest blankets draped over him and a small pile of snacks on the nightstand. He was still trying to pack in a few more calories, but he could feel his appetite starting to wane. The cramping was building, an ache in his hips he couldn't do much about, and he knew at this point, sleep was the best thing for him. Setting aside the protein bar he’d taken a few bites from, he burrowed down into the cloud of bedding and followed Soap’s progress across the room until he stopped by the bed.
“Can I join you in your nest, Simon?”
Simon shivered at the heat in Johnny’s voice and nodded, watching as Soap climbed onto the mattress, carefully sliding under the blanket, careful not to disturb the warm pocket of air Ghost had made. He wiggled and squirmed for a second before dropping the towel over the side of the bed, and that was it. They were together, clean, warm, and fed, ready for what was coming.
“What can I do?”
Ghost rolled over and presented him with his back.
“Can you just- My lower back, please.”
Ghost blinked at the wall, waiting to see if Soap listened, and groaned when something warm and firm and round pressed into the small of his back before rolling in small waves across the area that hurt the most, digging into the ache and teasing it out on his muscles. He felt Soap set a hand at his shoulder and gently push him forward, and he went, trusting him to have his back, in both a metaphorical and a very real sense, moving until he was flat on the bed on his belly, Johnny a warm line of heat down his side.
“Jesus, LT. Is that what your back usually feels like?”
“Not usually, just around my heat.”
Johny hummed, the sound threaded with disbelief, but didn’t stop moving over his skin and Ghost let himself melt into the bedding, dragging Soap’s shirt closer and shoving it under his face, nearly purring at how nice it all was. He could feel himself getting heavier, each blink taking more and more effort, each one a little longer, until he was asleep, surrounded by the scent of safety, and care, and them.
~~~
When Ghost woke up, he could feel his heat starting to descend on him, and under him Johnny was stirring as well, urged out of his own nap by his partner’s distress. He could feel that in spite of how good Soap had made is body feel, he still wasn’t wet, and he knew he was breathing to fast, and he shoved himself back and scrambled off the bed and back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and backing away until the edge of the tub hit the back of his knees and he yelped, falling, bracing for impact. But the impact never came, and he could feel someone holding his arms, dragging him back onto his feet.
“What’s wrong, Simon?”
Soap’s hackles were clearly up, and he could almost see him try and make himself bigger, scanning for whatever threat sent his Omega running.
“I’m in heat.”
Soap looked at him and frowned, nodding his head.
“Yeah, o’course.”
Ghost sighed and waited for Johnny to catch it. When several long painful beats passed and he just looked more confused, Ghost sighed and said,
“I’m not slicking.”
Johnny still looked confused, and Ghost pushed himself to keep talking.
“And you can’t fuck me if I’m not wet. And my heat won’t break without a knot.”
And he stopped, letting Johnny process his words. What he didn’t expect was for him to bark a laugh and release his arms, laughing like Ghost had just told him a good joke and not shared a painful truth about how damaged he was. Ghost wrapped his arms around himself, stung by the unexpected reaction.
“You can go if you’re just gonna laugh at me. Just tell Price he needs to keep his promise, and we can forget this ever happened.”
Johnny’s laugh cut off sharply at his words and he watched as he shook his head, hands extended placatingly.
“No, Simon, that’s not it at all. You not being wet is probably the least important part of this whole thing.”
Ghost scoffed, growing down at him.
“Think it’s pretty fucking important if you plan to knot me. Don’t really feel like letting you tear me open because I can’t fucking do the one thing any omega should be able to.”
Johnny pressed in closer and Ghost let him, stupidly weak for this man, wondering what he’d say, how he’d answer that, and waited as Johnny ran warm palms up and down his biceps, from shoulder to elbow soothingly.
“I’ve got a whole basket of slick stuff out there if we need it. If you can’t make your own, store bought is a pretty good second choice. Water based, sensitive skin, organic, scented, flavored, silicone, whatever you want. Probably got something that’ll appeal. So really, you not already being slick is fine.”
Ghost swallowed at his nonchalance and let himself be led out of the bathroom, letting Soap push him back into the nest before detouring to the small basket he’d seen earlier and not recognized. When he climbed back into the bed and joined him, he held it out for Ghost to pick through, turning the labels in his hands as he read them.
“Plus, I’m going to hit rut, probably in just a few hours, and then it won’t be a problem at all. Cause, um.”
Soap stopped, scrubbing his palm over the back of his neck.
“I meant to talk about this with you earlier, but then you needed a break, so I never got the chance to bring it up. So, uh. I don’t tend to spend my ruts with people for a very specific reason. I tend to get wet when I rut, like copious amounts of pre, like messy, sloppy, off-puttingly wet. And partners in the past weren’t fans, and it was easier to deal with on my own, the ruts a little quicker, not so- er- active. And then there was you. And I wanted to ask you to spend my last one together, but I didn’t know how to bring it up, so I sulked by myself and spent the week living up to my call sign, the amount of washing I did.”
Soap stopped and heaved in a breath as he shot Ghost a rueful look.
“And I never said anything before because I never thought you’d choose an Alpha like me, and I couldn’t stand the idea of living with that rejection. I never bothered to even try because at least that way, if no one asked, there was nothing to reject, and I at least got to keep being around you.”
“So if you’re worried I’m gonna judge you for how your body isn't always great at doing what it ought to, you’re not alone in that feeling, and I figure if our damaged parts complement each other we might as well see if it’s’ worth it. And when you gave me the hint of a chance to help you, I was all in, risks and all., I figured I'd be a fool to waste it. So it’s really up to you now. Pick one to try until I catch up, or wait until you’re deeper into your heat and you’re less self conscious, or call the whole thing off, no harm, no foul, and go back to teammates and friends. I just want you to be comfortable this time, and not feeling like your best option is medicating yourself until you’re close to organ failure cause you won’t let yourself cycle!”
Soap’s voice is sharp and his eyes are serious as he stares at Ghost, kneeling by his side in the nest. Ghost watches as he visibly calms himself, breathing in deeply through his nose.
“Price said the medics locked you out because you refused to have an unmedicated heat. And if you didn’t, you were risking permanent damage. So what do I need to do to help you through this with the least anxiety? What do I avoid, or would you prefer to top? I’m pretty open minded with my partners, and we’ve got lots to choose from if you’d rather not receive aside from a brief knotting to break your heat. Whatever you need from me LT, I’ll make it happen.”
“I can’t guarantee I won’t react poorly if you hold me down. And I can’t hold presentation pose on my own anymore. And I don’t like pain. Not even as a joke. No hitting. And please don’t call me names.”
Soap nodded at each request, and Ghost felt his heart swell at how seriously he seemed to be taking everything.
“Alright. Now tell me what works for you.”
Ghost lay, melted into the warmth of his nest and the rising tide of his hormones, listening to the man he’d pined over for months say everything he wanted to hear, and nodded, thrilled with the way things were turning out. Price had been right about Johnny’s feelings for him. Well, shit. Now he owed the old man a favor, and Price always collected on his favors. But as Soap lowered himself over Ghost and started pressing kisses to the warm skin of his shoulder and then up his neck, Ghost was really struggling to work up the appropriate amount of outrage about that.
“I like it when…”
~~~
Ghost’s stomach was liquid and warm and Soap moved over him, kissing every bit of skin he could reach, smearing his scent over him. As Ghost lay there, he hoped it never faded, hoped it sank into his pores and altered him from the inside out, a new creation who scented like both of them, and neither, a completely new creature built on the affection Soap was biting into his skin. He heard something click and turned his head to see Soap set a partially full bottle against his hip. The shock of Soap’s mouth sucking a hickey into his thigh distracted him for a second, so when Soap’s cool slippery fingers slid down the center of him he sucked in a shocked breath and jerked, looking down to see Johnny looking up at him as he mouthed along the line of his groin, eyebrow cocked in question.
“Cold.”
Soap’s hum was understanding, and he slowed down, rubbing his fingers over the slick he’d deposited, letting the friction of his fingers warm it until he couldn't tell the difference anymore, letting himself fall into the feeling of being touched so sweetly by his alpha. He groaned at the first press of his blunt fingertips, but relaxed, letting him in, and sighed when everything just felt good, the slide easy, no rough edges or dryness disturbing the pleasure he was being offered.
Starting easy, Soap worked him open with two fingers, stretching him open slowly, gently, mouth working over his cock and groin, lips slipping down to press kissed near where his fingers rested, the occasional flick of a wet tongue wringing noises out of him as the hunger in his belly solidified and turned sharp. His hips sped up, moving to get the friction he needed.
“More.”
He groaned as Soap listened to him and added a third finger, the stretch apparent but not uncomfortable. And when Johnny cocked his fingers just right, pressing up against the bundle of nerves and spongy tissue, Ghost felt himself tip over the edge, coming harder than he had in a while, the sweet relief of coming without pain a novel experience after decades of painful, embarrassing, unfulfilling heats.
His body felt like overcooked spaghetti as he lay there, trying to catch his breath, and he whimpered when Johnny pulled his hand free, not because it hurt, but because it felt like loss, and he wasn’t ready for that. Above him, Johnny cooed words of comfort and grabbed a hand towel, wiping his fingers before cleaning up Ghost’s belly and even between his legs. It was the nicest thing he’d ever had a partner do for him. His body was awash in good hormones, and he closed his eyes, letting himself float. He never even noticed when he shifted into sleep.
~~~
Soap saw it when Ghost’s body fully relaxed and he dropped into sleep easily, body pliant as he moved around him, cleaning him up and making sure he was covered. He pushed himself out of the nest reluctantly, glancing back at the wet spot he’d left between Ghost’s knees, where he’d been pressed against the sheets while he worked him with his mouth. It was about the size of a dessert plate, and he wasn’t even in rut yet. Sighing, he rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom to rinse himself off. No sense in changing the sheets yet. Ghost smelled like he was hours away from dropping into full heat, and if he had to choose between changing the sheets or rinsing off, he knew which one he’d prefer.
After all, he’d already layered the sheets for easy removal later when they started to get bad, and he knew once he followed Ghost and hit his own rut, he wasn’t going to care about how much they reeked of one another. He gave himself cursory wash and toweled off, gathering up the rest of the basket of lube and a few more bottles of water, leaving them on the nightstand for later. Climbing back into the nest, he waited for Ghost to settle, draped over him and still fast asleep, before he closed his own eyes and heaved out a sigh. Better sleep while he could. He had a feeling the next few days were going to be intense.
~~~
Soap blinked as he woke up, the high pitched while of an Omega in distress sharp in his ears. Above him, Simon was fully in his heat, cheeks and chest flushed a rosy pink, sweat dewed along his hairline as he ground himself down on Soap’s thigh. Carefully, Soap set his hands at Ghost's waist and tugged him up, helping him move until he was straddling his waist and grinding his hard cock against Soap’s belly.
Soap fished in the basket for a bottle of lube and dumped some over Simon’s tailbone, catching it with his fingers and pressing it into where Ghost was still soft, a little more open and relaxed than he’d been when they fell asleep, body preparing for an alpha’s knot. He wasn’t fully ready to be knotted, but he was getting there, body working to prepare himself. Soap wondered what kind of shitty partners he’d had in the past to have such a negative idea of how his body responded during heats. Because he was fucking radiant.
Shrugging that line of thought away for the time being, he guided his omega up to the peak of his climax, fingers massaging him wider, getting him ready, and listening to the absolutely gorgeous noises pouring out of his throat. His own groin was a slick mess, a mix of spilled lube and his own pre, and Ghost’s ass slipped against it, the wet smack and slurp of sound making his own belly twist higher in arousal, the edge of rut still not there, but even with just a normal libido he would have been close, and he watched Simon’s face twist in ecstasy as he came, planting one palm over Soap’s sternum and throwing his head back as he rode it out, hips jerking and twitching as he came on Soap’s belly, the pearly white strings soaking into the dark whorls of hair on his stomach. Soap grunted as the view pushed him over, and he came too, gouts of cum spilling from his cock and smearing up Ghost’s back and ass, pooling on his groin and slipping warm and messy between his legs.
Above him, Ghost started to fold forward, and Johnny caught him, rolling to the side and wrapping his arms around the spent shaking omega, running a hand over his back as he came down. He could finally feel the faint haze of his own rut building, but it'd be a little while yet til he dropped fully and until he did, he had every intention of caring for Simon.
~~~
After that first orgasm, it was clear to Soap that Ghost was fully descended into his heat. He was insatiable, riding Soap’s thigh, his belly, his face, his cock, and finally, his knot. Soap stayed on his back, letting Ghost move him as he pleased until Ghost couldn’t do it any more, so exhausted he couldn’t do much more than whine until Soap took over and rolled him onto his front, checking in with him before holding his hips up to keep him in position as he pressed into the warm clutch of his body.
Ghost gave a small sigh of relief as he filled him, and Soap leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the fever warm skin between his shoulder blades. They’d made their way through a good portion of the lube he’d brought, and everything was filthy with their combined- fluids-, but Ghost was still whining for it, and Soap knew his heat wouldn’t break without a knot, even as his mind descends to -fuck-rut-mate-bite-care-love-keep-. He kept his hips moving slowly, adjusting until he hit a spot inside Simon that made him shout, and then he kept his hips angled there, concentrating on the ripples and pulses of Ghost’s body around him.
He could feel his knot starting to swell, and he kept going, pulling it out until just the head was still inside his omega before pressing back in slowly, gasping as the bulge of his knot scraped through the constriction of Ghost’s body. On the next withdraw, he’s too swollen to pull out and he switched his thrusts to a deep grind, pressing his hips into Ghost’s ass, rolling them together as he swelled the rest of the way, knot finally locking and pressing inside his body until the pressure was enough to tumble Soap over the edge, his mind reduced to nothing so much as -breed-mate-love-bite-.
He realized he was growling, low in his throat, a contented sound as he mouthed against the back of Ghost’s neck, pressing him down into the wrecked bedding, cock still pumping his omega full. They breathed through the comedown together and Soap blinked back to himself, looking around the room. He had no idea how much time had passed, but his hips and thighs were screaming, and his mouth was dry and sticky. He moved his knee under himself and grimaced as he found a puddle of cold slick and he wondered how much of that was spilled lube and how much of that was just them. Now that he’d knotted, his mind was clear enough to let him check over his partner, and he did, offering him snacks and drinks as Ghost purred under him, heat finally settling now that he’d gotten the knot his hormones demand. It took a little bit longer for his knot to deflate enough for them to separate, and when he rolled Simon over, he was pleased to see that the high hectic flush on his face was clearing up, and his eyes, while still hazy, looked more alert.
Soap climbed out of the nest and gathered Ghost up to carry him into the bathroom, the much larger omega almost comically balanced in his arms. He cleaned them up, grimacing as he scrubbed cum and lube off their skin, and when they made it out of the shower, Soap set him on the chair and pulled the top layer of bedding free, glad he’d had the forethought to layer sheets and slick pads before they both fell into their cycles. Once the nest was slightly less disgusting, he gathered up Ghost and chivied him back into the nest, wrapping them up in warm blankets and letting himself drift off as his omega made contented noises and nosed up his throat to nip at his chin.
~~~
Ghost woke the next morning to find that the depth of his heat had already passed, the knottings of the previous day enough to stem the worst of it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on who you asked, Soap’s rut wasn't so easily soothed and the next three days were wet, wet, wet, as Ghost and Soap rode out the rest of it together. And while Ghost was relieved to find that he no longer felt like he was burning up, his heat was still very much active, the desire to be fucked full and knotted often still present.
But, just as he’d promised that first fraught night together, now that Soap had also dropped into his rut, they absolutely didn’t have to worry about lube or Ghost’s inability to slick, as Ghost realized that Soap had probably been underselling just how much he came, and after trying to sneak off to the shower to clean up only to be dragged back to bed by a freaked out rutting alpha, Ghost kind of resigned himself to being covered in the stuff.
It wasn’t bad, the way Soap seemed to love the way he smelled so strongly of what they’d been doing, but it was a lot, and Ghost couldn't help but be grateful that they were only expected to cycle once a year as active duty service members. As much as he appreciated how dedicated Johnny was to keeping him comfortable, he didn’t know if he had the constitution to do this more often. It had been- perfect. A lot, but also perfect.
Simon was still dozy in the afterglow of his last knotting, and he smiled when Johnny gathered him into his arms, tucking himself along Simon’s spine, his cock slotting against Simon’s ass.
“Again?”
“Again.”
~~~
Jonny yawned, pleased to find Simon still in his arms. He was barely awake, fingers sweeping over the swell of Simon’s pec as he tried to get his mind to work, soaked in hormones as it was. He could feel the heat banked in his belly as the pheromones Simon was putting out finally eased, gentling Soap out of his rut. He’s still pretty deep, probably at least another day of it before he was fully clear headed, but it was the most lucid he’d felt in days. There was still arousal there, simmering in his gut, but it wasn’t urgent, and he liked the build, usually enjoying some teasing when he’s by himself.
But he wasn’t by himself right then and Simon was warm and soft against his hardening length and reeked deliciously of him, and only him. His hips were moving almost unconsciously and he could feel himself start to drip, adding more slick to the slide of skin on skin. He felt like purring at the idea that he’d helped Simon, easing him through his heat, letting him rest, making him feel good, and he wanted to keep doing this, wondering if Ghost would be up for it. Cycle mates, or maybe even more if he was very lucky.
The feeling in the pit of his stomach grew and he nipped at the soft skin of Simon’s shoulder blade, leaving little red bites dotted across the skin, marking him with more of his scent, his marks, his skin, his come. It was all so good and he let his awareness retreat, floating in the haze of instinct, the drive to protect, and provide, and procreate. A vision of Simon, swollen with his child flashed in front of his eyes and he groaned at the thought, flexing his hips enough that the head of his cock caught against the still puffy rim of Simon’s hole. In his arms, Simon jerked and glanced over his shoulder, eyes clear, face open and relaxed.
“Soap? Johnny? You back with me?”
Soap nodded, nipping his shoulder again. Ghost laughed, and Soap smiled proudly at the sound.
“Alright, so not fully back quite yet.”
Soap whined softly and Ghost patted his hand where it was still wrapped around his belly.
“S'alright, alpha. Take what you need. I’m good.”
“Wet enough?”
“Plenty.”
“Promise?”
Ghost's voice was soft when he answered.
“Promise, alpha. Plenty wet for you.”