Chapter Text
Sleep brings an omega to the house one evening, frail and blood-spattered with wide blue eyes.
III tumbles down the porch steps, lets Sleep curl happily around his shoulders, and pumps out calming pheromones toward the shivering man.
The man jolts back as III comes closer, and III croons at him lowly, and tells him he’s safe here.
The man watches him fearfully.
“We weren’t expecting you,” III says. “Sorry, so sorry.”
The man’s eyes dart from III to the house at the mention of we.
“Sleep brought you here, huh?” III continues, rolling his shoulders as he feels the god wrap itself around them both. “Hi, I’m III. What do I call you?”
The man shakes his head minutely.
“Okay,” III says, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. You can be IV.”
He reaches out a hand, still pumping out pheromones, and stills himself when IV reaches back. He doesn’t want to startle him.
“Come in,” III says. “Come in and you can get cleaned up.”
The omega, now IV, follows him up the steps, and Sleep comes too.
Sleep, a hazy mist, curls close to IV’s body and lends him strength when IV catches the smell of the two alphas that live in the house. He stills, unwilling to step through the threshold of the doorway.
III sways closer and says, “Promise it’s safe. Vessel and II, they’re staying back until you’re comfortable.”
IV wipes his hand against his face and seems surprised when it comes away red with blood.
“Sleep took care of the alpha who had you, right?” III asks, and he reaches out to carefully hold IV’s hand in both of his.
IV nods, though he still seems shocked about whatever he witnessed.
III knows how he feels. “Sleep did the same for me,” he says, “so I promise I know how it feels. Really scary.”
IV looks up so he can look III in the eyes, searching to see if that’s the truth.
It is, so III doesn’t worry.
“But you’re safe here. Sleep wouldn’t bring you somewhere you weren’t safe. Not after it put in all that effort.”
This is the right thing to say, because IV stumbles into the house with III, starting to lose steam in being recalcitrant.
He takes in everything carefully: how the entryway spills into a living room and a kitchen, and rooms farther beyond, a set of stairs that leads both up to the next level of the house and down to a lower level. He looks toward the kitchen, where the remains of a meal still spread out on the table, two plates missing, and trembles when he realizes he interrupted a meal, like he had any control over the timing.
III hushes him gently and leads him up the stairs. “Ves and II are finishing their meal downstairs in the studio,” he explains. “Honestly, probably all of Vessel’s weird little dreams are coming true, because II usually doesn’t let him take food down there.”
Sleep is downloading him, and the others, on the pertinent information regarding IV, which is helpful for letting III know what he needs to do and less helpful for keeping a lid on his emotions. He wonders if this is how II and Vessel felt when he appeared at the manor however many years ago, and then gets rid of the thought because although the alphas did feel sympathy for him, they couldn’t really understand. III is in a unique position to fully comprehend where IV stands.
III ushers IV up the stairs, pointing out his room and Vessel’s room and II’s room. There are a couple other rooms on this floor, and he leads IV to one of the empty bedrooms near his. “This can be yours,” he says lowly.
IV startles at III’s words, like he can’t believe that he gets a bedroom at all.
III wants to hug him but keeps his hands to himself.
IV looks around the room. They keep the room habitable even if no one stays there; II is fastidious in the management of their home, so there are clean, fresh sheets on the bed and not a speck of dust to be found.
There’s a bathroom connected, but III stops IV before he can go in there.
“Wait,” III says, gesturing to the door to the bedroom. IV sways closer as III shuts the door. III notices that IV stills as the door shuts, and he hates the implications even as he recognizes the feeling. “The door locks.”
IV stares down at the bedroom lock like he doesn’t understand how it works or why it’s there.
“You can lock it whenever you want,” III explains, “and no one will come in unless you want them to.”
“Who are you?” IV says softly, voice creaky like he’s unused to using it. “What is this?”
“Something new,” III says back, equally as gentle. “Something good.”
“How can you be sure?”
III’s smile turns down at the corners, and he runs a hand through his hair.
“I told you, I’ve been here,” he says, ignoring the way IV’s eyes scrunch sadly at the corners. “Because Sleep saved me too, and brought me here, and I promise that it’s better than wherever you were before this.”
IV chuffs a laugh. “Anywhere would be better.”
“Yeah,” III agrees, then says, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
IV marvels at the bath III draws for him and lets III wash the blood from his face and arms, and then lets him wash his hair.
Later, IV locks himself in the bedroom, and III understands that too.
Vessel and II come up after a while to find III frozen on the couch, biting a hangnail on his thumb as he stares blankly into the room. II goes to the kitchen to begin cleaning up the remains of their dinner, and Vessel beelines for III, who doesn’t look up until Vessel puts a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay?” Vessel asks carefully.
III remains quiet, rolling the information Sleep shared with him about IV around in his mind, but he glances up at Vessel.
“How can I help you?” Vessel asks instead.
III returns to chewing on his nails and then shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “You’re going to have to let me take the lead,” III says finally.
Vessel nods, accepting this easily.
“You can’t, you can’t—” III starts, and then stops. “This is so messed up.”
Vessel sits next to him on the couch. “Whatever you need,” he says, and then, “whatever he needs.”
III leans against his side to soak in his scent. “You can’t push him,” III says. “He’s been, he’s been trained.”
The type of alpha that takes the time to train an omega is the type of person who has money to sink into it and the loose morals to make the training stick. III was lucky enough to sidestep training, which meant he had a lot of fight left in him by the time Vessel and II received him from Sleep. IV won’t have that fight left in him yet, so III has to be that person for him now even if that means going against Vessel and II.
Luckily, it seems that Vessel has no intention of not listening to III. It makes III feel some type of way to have the alpha defer to him, even if it’s not out of the norm for them at all.
II joins them in the living room and III leans against him too, half for comfort and half so he picks up both of their scents, so IV can get used to them without interacting with them.
“What does he need?” II asks. “Ves and I can pop down to the shops and get him whatever he doesn’t have.”
“Everything,” III half laughs, no humor in the sound. “I got him a toothbrush and stuff out of the hall closet and gave him some of my clothes because he can’t–he can't wear his.”
II smooths his hair back from his forehead and hums gently. “You’re okay,” he says. “You’re doing a good job.”
“More pillows,” III says desperately, like more comforting bedding could fix the problem here. “Like, the really soft ones, and blankets, and he’ll be hungry, but he won’t want to eat—”
Vessel soothes him from the other side and links their fingers together.
“We’ll go pick up clothes and more bedding tomorrow because it’s late now. I’ll plan to make a lot of little foods that you can bring up to him,” II says.
III lets himself relax into this moment — two alphas, looking to him for guidance even as he feels so helpless in it, and thinks about how different they are from other alphas he’s had the displeasure of knowing. These aren’t men who would hurt him, and they won’t hurt IV either. He breathes steadily with the knowledge and hopes IV isn’t so broken by his circumstances that one day he’ll realize it too.
III speaks quietly, haltingly, through the door with IV for the first day. He brings the food II makes upstairs and passes it through the crack of the door when IV edges it open, and all but begs IV to eat it. The plates come back full.
The second day, well into the evening, is when IV allows III into the bedroom. The sun has already set, and the only light IV keeps on in the room is the lamp by his bedside. III brings the freshly laundered bedclothes with him when IV lets him inside.
The novelty of a locked door is still ripe and fresh to IV, so he locks the door after III.
III dumps the blankets onto IV’s bed and starts to pick out the washed clothes mixed up with the sheets.
IV steps closer, an emotion III can’t identify on his face, and asks quietly, “Do you want your clothes back?”
III shakes his head. “Keep ‘em,” he says back. He folds shirts and pants and underwear and tucks socks into their mates, and then he puts them into a drawer for IV.
IV haunts the edge of the room as he does, watching his every move with careful eyes. He rounds two walls before he comes closer to the bed, and as he gets nearer to it, III retreats to the desk chair.
IV fingers the edge of a blanket for a moment before he spreads it out across the surface of the bed and smoothes out the wrinkles.
He doesn’t move to sit on the bed, wary eyes still trained on III.
“You smell like them,” IV murmurs.
III nods. “They’re mine,” he says.
“You’re not theirs?”
III equivocates for a moment, because he wants to get this right. He isn’t always great with words; he wants IV to understand what he means. “I am,” he settles on, “but not the way you’re thinking. They don’t own me. They just love me.”
IV scoffs a little, and III pretends like it doesn’t sting.
“I’m not lying to you,” III says petulantly. He swings into the swivel of the chair.
“Okay,” IV says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes him.
That’s okay, III reminds himself. It’s day two, and if IV ever ventures out of this room, he’ll see it for himself.
“Do you want anything?” III asks. “I can put it on the shopping list, and II will get it for you.”
IV stares at him, and then shakes his head no.
“Any scents that you like? Or don’t like, I guess.” III probes.
IV shrugs and then says, “Not— no vanilla.”
He scrunches his nose and looks away from III, eyes hazy like he’s lost in a memory.
III hopes Sleep ripped apart the alpha that had IV before this. He hopes there’s nothing left, that the only identifiable thing left about that person is the house that he trapped IV inside. He hopes Sleep left a trail of blood.
Considering the amount of blood III washed off him, and the self-satisfied feeling from Sleep deep in his own stomach, he doesn’t think he’s too far off.
IV must pick up on III’s feelings, because he backs up a couple paces and shakes his head.
“Sorry,” III apologizes. “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you. I’m not good at this.”
“I don’t know,” IV says quietly. “You’re doing pretty well so far.”
III sits with that for a moment. “I wasn’t— I didn’t come from the same sort of place you did.”
“But it was just as bad, right?” IV asks, but it sounds more like a statement.
III nods, once and then twice more, and rubs his hands against his jeans. “Yeah, probably. I can’t have kids.”
Fertility is kind of a big thing to people who use omegas, is the thing. Or, at least, it’s important to the type of people who have money. It’s less important to the type of people who prostitute omegas, like the ones III belonged to once upon a time.
IV looks stricken with the first real emotion that III has been able to identify. He slumps down on the edge of the bed.
III places a hand across his stomach, protecting the scar that runs across his stomach from the botched back-alley hysterectomy that eventually brought III to Vessel and II.
IV glances down, and then back up, as he realizes what III means.
“Sleep butchered them,” III explains dully, “like they did to me.”
“Oh,” IV says. He doesn’t say anything else.
“And then Vessel and II nursed me back to health, and the rest, as they say, is history.” III gestures to the greater house around them. “So, I’m not really fucking with you when I say they’re good people.”
“I know it would be appropriate to—to comfort you,” IV stutters out, “but could you hug me right now?”
III doesn’t bother answering; he just pushes up from the chair and crosses the room in three loping strides. He leans down so he can capture IV between the curl of his arms and lets IV loop his own arms around his back.
III can feel the shaking of his shoulders as he cries. It sucks, but it’s probably good for him, III thinks.
When III eventually slinks from IV’s room, the lock clinking into place as he leaves, he goes to Vessel’s room and curls himself against the alpha’s back and cries himself to sleep.
Vessel is in the kitchen on the fifth day when IV leaves the sanctuary of his bedroom.
He’s wrist deep in soapy water, cleaning the dishes that II cooked with earlier in the day. III takes plates of food up to IV’s bedroom, and sometimes the plates come back half-eaten, but more times they come back untouched. II is worried about how much IV is eating, even if they haven’t met the man officially yet.
He hears two sets of footsteps on the stairs, and he casts a curious gaze that way.
II is sat in the living room working on his laptop with bulky headphones on, so he doesn’t notice the pair coming downstairs.
Vessel has a moment to look at IV for the first time, considering that the omega hasn’t noticed them down here yet. IV’s hands fist in the back of III’s shirt, and III croons to him as they move, stilted in their gait, down the stairs.
Vessel keeps washing the dishes. He scrubs and rinses, then places the plate in his hands on the drying rack.
III and IV round the bottom of the stairs and Vessel sees the exact moment IV realizes both alphas are downstairs.
His gaze darts up over III’s shoulder, first right toward II and then over to Vessel in the kitchen.
Vessel continues with the dishes. II finally looks up, like he realizes they’re not alone downstairs anymore by way of a distressed omega scent and reaches up to take off his headphones.
He, II and III all discussed how their first meeting with IV should go, but Vessel still feels a little surprised that he sprung it on them with no warning. They talked about how IV should meet II first, because not only is Vessel an alpha but he carries the weight of Sleep with him. It can be a lot.
Vessel looks down at the sink, suds up to his wrists, and thinks maybe III has the right idea.
He can’t quite hear what III says to IV about II, but he does see the way IV goes a little weak in the knees the closer III nudges him toward the living room.
II stays sitting, because even as short as II is, it can be intimidating to meet an alpha standing up.
It seems like to the edge of the rug is as willing as IV is to go, because he doesn’t move any farther into the room.
When II greets him, IV goes down to his knees almost immediately. His back is too straight to be natural, and Vessel realizes what III meant by trained. He knows, academically, what it means but he hasn’t ever seen a trained omega in real life before.
IV tucks his hands between his knees, shoulders stiff but pulled back, and his head lowers deferentially.
III locks eyes with Vessel and looks miserable where he stands next to IV.
II puts his laptop on the coffee table and scoots closer to the pair, unwilling to stand up and scare IV further, and tells him in a soothing voice that Vessel can hear, “I understand you’re scared. I need you to know that no one here is going to hurt you. I know you don’t trust us yet, and that’s fine. That makes sense.”
II folds his hands together in his lap and continues, “It’s very brave of you to come down when you’re so scared.”
IV doesn’t ever really break position, but Vessel can almost see the gears whirling in his brain as he listens to II speak.
“If it makes you feel safer to kneel, that’s okay,” II says, “but it’s not required. What Vessel and I want is for you to feel safe in our home — in your home. The only thing expected of you is that you take care of yourself.”
III shoots II a wild expression that IV doesn’t catch, and III clarifies, “There aren’t any punishments here. You won’t be punished for anything.”
II makes a low, wounded sound that almost has IV looking up — he tilts his ear up to listen instead at the last moment.
“III’s correct,” II amends, voice thick. “We would like for you to take care of yourself because we want you to feel safe, not because it’s a standard you have to meet.”
IV nods, almost imperceptibly, but doesn’t break position.
“Okay, good,” II says. “Do you have any questions for me?”
IV doesn’t respond.
“If you think of any, you can ask one of us or you can ask III. If you need anything, tell III, and I’ll get it for you.”
Even from where Vessel stands in the kitchen, he can see the tremble that begins to overtake IV’s frame. He can’t imagine how II feels sitting so close to IV as the man shakes on his knees.
“I do have one request of you, if you don’t mind,” II says quietly. He’s taking his cues from IV, it seems, who is also doing his level best to ignore the shaking in his shoulders.
III steps closer to IV.
“I’m quite worried about how much you’re eating,” II continues, “or how much you’re not eating. What can I make for you that you’ll eat?”
This is what makes IV finally break position, even if it’s just to lean heavily against III’s legs. His mouth crumples into a frown, but it’s III that answers II’s question. “We talked about this already,” he says, fingers half in his mouth. “IV said—”
He looks down at IV who finally begins to show some visible emotion — shame, embarrassment — and checks to make sure it’s okay to share. IV nods miserably against his knee.
“It’s part of the whole thing, where he came from,” III continues, “he could only accept food from his alpha’s hand.”
Vessel knows that means he’s probably never had a full portion of food before he came to them, left hungry, needy and dependent on the person who owned him.
Vessel finishes drying the last dish and leans heavily against the counter for a moment.
He starts moving around the kitchen, gathering some of the foods that II has already prepared, because he can unfortunately see where this is going.
III continues, “We tried it, him and me, but it doesn’t always work.”
IV closes his eyes as he leans against III’s legs.
II takes a moment to breathe, trying desperately to calm his emotions. “Okay,” he says, then repeats, “okay.”
The distressed omega scent is now coming from both III and IV. Vessel stays back in the kitchen, because he knows his introduction into the situation could be more detrimental than helpful.
The knowledge doesn’t make it less difficult not to go in there and provide comfort.
After a long moment of silence, II speaks again, clarifying, “I need you to understand that I’m not mad at you, IV. I’m mad at the asshole who did this to you.”
IV looks like he wants to cry. Vessel doesn’t know why he isn’t.
“Do you need a minute?” III asks.
II hums in assent. “Here’s what I need to happen. IV, I don’t know if I can do this while you’re kneeling. I think that’s my line. I’m going to go to the kitchen to calm down and get you some food. I need you to figure out how to be okay sitting on the couch while we try this.”
IV nods again and then turns his whole face against III’s thigh. III touches his hand to the top of IV’s shoulder.
II leaves the living room and walks straight into the kitchen and into Vessel’s arms. Vessel hugs him back fiercely. “This is so fucked up,” II mutters into his chest. “How are we going to be able to help him?”
That’s not a question with an easy answer.
Vessel breathes in a steady rhythm that II latches onto. They stay in that embrace for five minutes and then Vessel passes II the plate of small foods.
“Fuck, I love you,” II says.
“You’re doing the best you can,” Vessel tells him. “That’s all we can do right now. He has to eat.”
II nods a couple times.
“I think III’s got it figured out, anyway,” Vessel says as he gazes out of the kitchen. “You got this.”
He leans up to kiss Vessel and then takes the plate to the living room.
III has indeed figured it out, it seems. IV sits on the couch, feet tucked together on the floor, eyes flickering nervously as II enters the room. III lays on the rest of the couch, his head resting on IV’s lap. III points to the coffee table in front of them as II comes nearer.
II takes the direction easily and sits on the coffee table and puts the plate in his lap. “You tell me to stop,” he says clearly, “and this stops. We’ll figure something else out.”
IV nods again, still clearly distraught but he also stares longingly at the food on the plate: the small portions of sandwiches, fruit, and cheese.
III presses his face against IV’s stomach as II picks up a piece of fruit, and croons comforting nonsense. When IV eats it from II’s hand, III loses some of the tension in his body.
IV searches out his hand as he swallows the food and III holds him back tightly. They continue this way for a while, until the plate is empty.
“Are you still hungry?” II frets.
IV leans back from III to touch his stomach and seems to think about the question seriously. “No, sir,” he says softly.
II’s mouth screws up a little at the title, but he knows when to pick his battles.
“I don’t want you hungry,” II says. “It’s important to me that you don’t go hungry.”
IV bites his lip. “Thank you, sir.”
II leans over his own lap and presses his hands to his head. He almost looks like he’s praying. When he sits back up, he says, “You’re welcome in any room at any time. It’s your house too.”
IV cocks his head a little as he really looks at II for the first time. He doesn’t say anything back, but Vessel can tell he’s considering the information.
IV takes to the sunroom over every room in the house, save for the safety of his bedroom. He likes napping in warm beams of sunlight that filter in through the large windows. He lets II join him, and they share lunch there as II works with IV to feel comfortable eating from his own plate.
He’s not the only one who likes the sunroom, though, and he soon realizes that Vessel likes to read there as the sun begins to set.
The first time IV comes into the sunroom to find Vessel curled up in a chair, reading a book with a dragon on the front, he steels himself to enter. Vessel and II have made it clear that he’s welcome in any room they’re in at any time.
Vessel gazes at him briefly over his book but doesn’t offer him anything other than a small smile.
IV can feel Sleep’s presence in the room with Vessel. That, at least, is comforting. He isn’t sure what caused Sleep to seek him out in the first place and do what it did, but he thinks he’s glad for it. What he told III before was true: any place would be better than where he was. That these people are being so good to him, even if IV can’t figure out their angle, has been a blessing.
Aside from the first night, Sleep hasn’t manifested physically — as physical as a haze of mist can be. But when IV seeks out the sunniest patch on the daybed out here, he can almost feel it slip-slide from Vessel’s shoulders and gather around him instead, chittering quietly in his ear.
The only other sound in the room is the sound of Vessel turning the pages of his book.
IV slips in and out of wakefulness for a handful of minutes before he sighs quietly. He’s used to being bored, but he thinks maybe there’s a chance that he wouldn’t get in trouble for verbalizing it here.
Vessel pauses in his reading and considers him for a moment before he says, “Should I start at the beginning?”
IV makes a curious sound before he tenses, waiting for Vessel’s reaction.
“The book,” Vessel clarifies, although it doesn’t elucidate anything.
IV turns his head to look warily at Vessel, but doesn’t answer.
Vessel stares back at him, and then decides, “I’ll start at the beginning for you.”
He flips through the pages until he lands on the first page, and then he starts reading out loud.
IV isn’t sure what the book is, but Vessel begins reading about a fantastical world with a plucky main character, and IV thinks he likes the sound of Vessel’s voice. When he reads, he pitches his voice lower than he usually speaks, and he does voices for the different characters. The way he reads is hypnotizing, and by the time that Vessel closes the book, they’re a quarter of the way in and the sun has disappeared completely below the horizon.
“You should eat,” Vessel says as he sets the book aside. “Let’s go find II.”
He doesn’t wait on IV, for which IV is grateful. IV waits until Vessel leaves the sunroom and then trails behind him as they make their way through the house.
IV realizes that he’s no longer bored. Vessel read a story to him, and it opened something in his brain that he can think about and explore. He wonders if Vessel knew that would happen, if he knew that IV would be able to roll the story around in his mind.
Vessel shoots him a grin over his shoulder and says, “Look who I found.”
He breezes into a room with bookshelves that IV hasn’t explored yet, and IV follows at a slower place. He hesitates in the doorway, but he looks inside to see II curled up in a seat at a desk, plucking away at a computer.
II looks up when Vessel enters, and he smiles softly when he realizes IV has followed him to the room.
“Hi, love,” II says as Vessel leans down, fingers touching his elbow, to give him a kiss on the mouth.
IV watches them kiss and wonders, not for the first time, what the dynamic between the three men is.
“Hello, IV,” II continues, peering around Vessel’s body to greet him. “You hungry?”
IV nods lightly where he stands, surprised to find it true and not just because Vessel said so.
IV looks around the room while II stretches and puts away his things. The shelves are packed with books. IV doesn’t know what any of them are about, but he steps closer to a shelf near the door and presses a single finger against the spine of a book that looks well worn.
Vessel gravitates closer and asks, “Do you want me to read that one next? After we’re done with the one we were reading?”
The truth is, IV has struggled to think of a reason to be near Vessel. III is a comforting presence, an omega like him, and II seems to want to provide for IV, even if IV doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand what Vessel’s angle is in all of this, and that makes him intimidating.
But he seems less intimidating after reading to him, so IV nods and says, “Yes, sir.”
Vessel nods, a smile settling on his face, and he says, “You’ll like this one too.”
He gestures for IV to pick it off the shelf, so IV tentatively does, sliding it off the shelf. His eyes graze over the cover, seeing a picture of a man astride a horse, and then he looks back at Vessel as he wonders what the story is about.
II touches his fingers to Vessel’s arm and says, “I’m glad you’re spending some time together.”
He gestures with his head toward the door and says, “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
Vessel begs off, saying, “I’m going to go down to the studio. I think I’ve worked out that difficult part.”
He smiles warmly at IV as they part ways.
IV works up the courage to ask what they do in the studio in the time it takes to travel from the room they left to the kitchen.
II hums after he asks the question and answers, “Ves composes soundtracks for video games and movies. Sometimes I help with that, but my job is more to do with logistics. Honestly, my job is boring, but it keeps the lights on.”
IV thinks he might be underselling what he does, given the size of the manor and how they never seem to want for anything, but he doesn’t think they’re the type of wealthy that his former owner was.
They’re all missing the sort of deadened affect that comes with having that much money.
IV puts the book on the table and hugs his arms around himself.
II opens the fridge and pokes around before he says, “What are you in the mood for? There’s stuff for sandwiches, or I could cook.”
IV squeezes himself tighter and shrugs. He doesn’t want to put II out by having him cook; he feels like such a burden, both because II has to make food for him and because he has to feed him. There’s nothing that II’s getting out of this arrangement except more work.
He wonders briefly if he’s going to have to provide something in exchange for this kindness, but he brushes the thought away as best he can. Neither Vessel nor II have indicated that they even want anything like that from him. He knows, because they’ve both told him, that he doesn’t have to kneel for either of them. He hasn’t seen III kneel for either of them either.
III doesn’t really act like any omega IV has ever seen. He isn’t sure if that’s because of III’s background or if he really feels so comfortable in the house with these alphas, but he’s not sure it matters. He’s watched III’s rough edges, how petulant he can get when he wants something, how sometimes he’s rude without realizing it.
The sizzling of butter in a pan distracts him. It seems that II’s decided to cook while he was lost in his thoughts.
II glances at him over his shoulder and says, “It’s nothing fancy, don’t worry. I know you’re kind of sick of sandwiches, but who can turn down a warm grilled cheese?”
IV hasn’t said out loud that he’s sick of sandwiches. He’s not really sick of sandwiches; he’s still not over the novelty of being able to eat to the point of being full for once. He would take sandwiches for the rest of his life if it meant that he never went hungry again.
“Go curl up on the couch,” II tells him. “I’ll bring you your food when it’s done.”
Chapter Text
III lounges on the couch, one arm swung over the back of the couch and the other wrapped casually around his knees. The curl of his mouth into a moue is what stops II from continuing into the kitchen.
He asks, “What’s wrong?”
III swings his gaze toward II and pouts, scrabbling to kneel toward the back of the couch. “I’m bored,” he says.
II steps toward the couch and he lifts a hand to cup the side of III’s jaw, thumb drawing against his bottom lip. He peers down at III’s face. “Can’t have that, can we?”
III shakes his head slightly in II’s hold. His red fringe hangs in eyes and shakes with the motion.
“You want to watch a movie?” II suggests.
III’s lip curls a little bit, and he says primly, “No, thank you.”
He’s being uncharacteristically polite, even as his distaste is so clear across his face, and that worries II.
He brings his other hand up so he can cradle III by his jaw. III lets II hold up his head docilely, surrendering quietly to II’s careful examination. Now that II looks at him, he can see a sheen of sweat across his brow and the unfocused goggle of his half-lidded eyes.
II’s careful to keep a lid on the simmering anger he feels; he hates the intricacies of III’s past, he hates the pathway III had to take to get to them. He wishes he could have found III earlier, even as he knows it wouldn’t have happened any other way.
“When’s your heat due?” II asks sedately.
III’s eyes pop open, and he says dumbly, “Oh, is that what this is?”
II equivocates. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “or you’re getting sick.”
III shrugs and his hands come up to grip at II’s sides. “Do you think this is going to freak out IV?”
II doesn’t know. IV is hard to predict; his past is similar to III’s, but in a different direction. Where III spent the majority of his life in the slums, IV spent the first part of his as a silent omega in a rich alpha’s house. Not that the life of money means anything to anyone in his position. His triggers are different than III’s, and they’ve had less time to figure them out than they have with III.
III takes his silence as an answer and slides back down onto the couch. The frown on his face is back and he makes grabby hands toward II. He asks, “Are you busy?”
II would prefer if he just asked for what he wanted outright, instead of this half-stepped way he moves around asking directly for things that are important to him, but he understands why he does it. He shakes his head, rounds the couch, and places a knee on the couch by III’s hip. He waits for III to get comfortable and then slides on top, nuzzling into III’s neck and settling in. III wraps his long arms around II’s back and hangs on.
“You want to nap?” II asks, muffled against III’s skin.
III nods against his head. “If you’re not too busy,” he reiterates.
“Not for you,” II says, and he feels the way III relaxes beneath him.
II presses his cheek against III’s shoulder and rubs his nose against III’s neck and lets the gentle movement of III’s breathing lull him to sleep.
What II notices first when he wakes up is that III, familiarly, has curled himself around II in his sleep. The second thing he notices is IV, over III’s shoulder, sitting ramrod straight on the coffee table, watching them. II rubs the sleep out of his eyes with his free hand and wets his lips before asking, “You alright?”
IV doesn’t startle, probably because he watched II wake up, but he also doesn’t answer immediately. He flicks his eyes away like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, and after a moment of not receiving a reprimand, he says quietly, “Yes, sir.”
IV still isn’t comfortable dropping titles, and II stretches his body the best he can in III’s tight hold to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling sir gives him.
“What’s up?” he asks.
IV doesn’t fidget, not like III does, because that instinct has been trained out of him.
That’s another thing to add to the list of things that II hates on their behalf. He keeps a lid on that, too.
“He’s going into heat,” IV states, confirming what II already suspected.
IV would be more in tune with another omega’s biology.
“Yeah,” II murmurs.
He waits to see what IV’s response will be. He hasn’t experienced one of their heats or ruts, and II is hesitant to try and predict what his reaction will be.
II watches IV’s brow furrow, his only tell that he’s worried about what III’s heat means.
III scrubs his face against II’s chest and II glances down to see him starting to wake up. He gets a hand in III’s hair and scrubs gently to ease him into wakefulness.
“S’that IV?” III mumbles. “Why does he smell like that?”
“Think he’s worried about you,” II says quietly, eyes trained back on IV.
III stretches and rolls, and II goes where he’s jostled. He ends up tucked against III’s back as III reaches out a hand toward IV, eyes blinking slowly.
IV watches his hand carefully. III flexes his fingers encouragingly, and IV eventually slips off the coffee table so he can sit in front of the couch and hold III’s hand. His back loses a little bit of its rigidity.
“I’m okay,” III says plainly. “Promise, promise.”
IV makes a sound like he wants to believe III, but he can’t bring himself to do it.
“Will it help you if you know what to expect?” II asks.
II flicks his eyes to glance at II and immediately shifts his gaze back to where his fingers are linked with III’s.
III runs with II’s question and says, “Nothing’s going happen that I don’t want.”
IV tilts his head to indicate that he’s listening, but he stays quiet.
“Sometimes I want to ride them out alone,” III continues, “and then I do. Sometimes I let one of them hold me, and that’s all that happens. Sometimes we fuck, but I’m still in control.”
IV stills when III says the word fuck.
II can tell that III catches it immediately, but he trusts III to smooth out the interaction.
When IV speaks, he doesn’t ask what II is expecting.
“Sometimes,” IV repeats, “you let one of them hold you—” he pauses here, “and then nothing happens?”
III nods. “Yeah, isn’t that wild?”
II smells the distress wafting off of IV, which is probably what finally lures Vessel out of his bedroom and down the stairs.
“Everything okay?” Vessel asks, eyes concerned.
His eyes track over IV and III, as if making sure they’re both safe, before landing on II.
II nods, and Vessel relaxes.
IV ignores Vessel and directs his question to III. “Nothing happens even though you’re in heat?”
“Yeah,” III confirms. “If I don’t want anything to happen, nothing does. If you don’t want anything to happen when your heat comes, it won’t.”
IV’s bottom lip trembles.
II lets III eel out of his grip and join IV on the floor. He gets off the couch to give them space and crosses the room to Vessel, who he encourages into the kitchen. Vessel follows easily.
They can still hear III and IV talking quietly from the living room, and he catches the tail end of III saying, “Turns out we both know a lot of bastard alphas.”
The whole system is a bastard, II thinks as he leans against Vessel’s chest. The entire thing is broken, an economy that runs on a currency of omegas’ bodies.
Vessel runs his hands up and down II’s back.
“III’s preheat started,” II murmurs against his sternum. “They’re talking about it.”
Vessel squeezes him and then rocks them back and forth for a few moments. “How’s IV doing?”
II loves him, and his kind heart. “You can smell him,” he says, then clarifies, “anxious, obviously.”
Vessel separates them and kisses II on his forehead. “Want to make dinner?”
II does, actually. IV’s nervous energy has seeped into him, and he needs an outlet for it before it becomes an issue.
He glances at the stove, surprised at how long he and III napped. “Oh, is that the time?”
Vessel laughs at him, a low chuckle that settles against II’s shoulders.
“Yeah, love, that’s the time.”
II pushes Vessel gently out of the way. “Oh, hush,” he snaps. “You’re no better, shut up in your bedroom all the time.”
“Not all the time,” Vessel protests. “I was figuring out the song.”
II hums dubiously as he gets the pans out of the cabinets. III always craves carb-heavy meals before his heat hits even if he’ll never say so out loud, so II gets out the ingredients for a rich pasta dish.
Vessel busses a kiss against his hairline and asks if he needs any help.
II shakes his head in the negative but asks if he’ll set the table. Vessel does so without a fuss, and when he finishes, he goes to wash up before dinner.
III and IV are still sat on the living room floor, heads bowed close together as they talk and fingers tangled together, and II leaves them to it.
II loses himself in the process of making pasta, so he doesn’t realize when III and IV enter the kitchen. III bullies his way against II’s side, and II startles and then relaxes when he realizes it’s just III.
IV hangs back in the doorway.
II wraps an arm around III’s waist as III leans forward to peer into the pots on the stovetop.
“Is this for me?” III asks.
“Well, it’s for all of us, but yes, it’s for you,” II says.
“You’re so sweet,” III says. “Isn’t he sweet, IV?”
IV wilts a little under the attention but dips his chin down in assent.
“You wanna try dinner at the table?” II asks IV.
He’s made a lot of progress with the lunches they share now. II thinks he’s ready for this.
IV startles at the question, and then takes a moment to give the thought sincere consideration, before he nods quickly. He still looks scared.
III crosses the kitchen to hug him. II watches as IV curls his fingers into the back of III’s shirt, knuckles whitening for a brief, tense moment, before they part.
After they part, III slings himself into his usual seat and then motions for IV to sit next to him. III sits at their kitchen table like he belongs there, and he invites IV to sit next to him, because he thinks IV belongs there too. It’s honestly doing so much more for IV than any assurances that II or Vessel can give him.
IV sits close enough to III that their thighs touch.
Vessel comes into the kitchen and sees them sitting next to each other and a smile glides onto his face.
“Smells good,” he tells II.
II smiles and tilts his cheek up for a kiss, which Vessel supplies happily. II feels IV’s eyes tracking them. II shoos Vessel away to the table, where he sits on III’s other side.
II brings the finished pot of pasta to the table and sets it down on a trivet. III sticks out his plate so that II can plate his portion, a sleazy sort of grin on his face.
“Thank you, dear,” III says.
IV watches with wide eyes, like he always does when III shakes up what he thinks he knows about how a household is supposed to run.
II serves Vessel next, who thanks him, and then II plates up the third and final plate.
He and IV have been working hard to transition him from eating from II’s hand. They’ve discovered that it doesn’t make IV’s stomach turn as much if he eats from II’s plate instead. He places the plate close to IV, but not close enough that IV’s mind will trick him into thinking it’s IV’s plate instead of II’s.
III has already started eating and he hums contentedly. Vessel tucks into his meal as well, and II twirls some of the pasta onto the fork and offers it to IV first.
It feels better like this, sitting next to IV at an actual table, using utensils instead of his hand. It feels like he’s just sharing a meal with someone he cares about. IV is able to pick his fork up after II takes a bite, and soon they share the plate between them.
Vessel catches his eye across the table, and he looks proud of them. II winks at him and smiles back at him.
III goes for seconds before long, and IV looks at him with wide eyes, clearly wondering where it all goes, and III grins at him.
Vessel, II, and III all idly chat during dinner, but IV stays quiet, clearly overwhelmed by the experience. He puts his fork down after he eats a little more than a quarter of the plate. II reaches over and holds his hand, comforting him in the least intrusive way possible. He knows IV will freeze up if he says anything about the amount of food he eats, and that’s not what he wants.
After dinner, Vessel washes the dishes and III herds IV to the couch so they can snuggle. They look sweet curled up together, and II wonders if IV feels more tolerant of an intimate touch because III is so close to his heat or if that’s something he and III have been working on together too.
He decides it doesn’t matter and goes to upstairs to get ready for bed.
For III, the days leading up to his heat consist of a lot of naps. He’s always more tired beforehand, his body trying to conserve energy for heats that last a little longer than the average omega. He’s not really sure why they are, if it’s something natural or if it’s because of the drugs his pimp pumped into him in the past. He’s inclined to think it’s the latter, because an omega with a longer heat makes more money, but he hates to think about it at all.
He’s been with Vessel and II long enough that they know he doesn’t like them to hover over him in the days leading up to his heat. He likes the control it gives him, choosing when he wants to interact with others, because for so long he wasn’t in control.
II still checks on him periodically, and Vessel strategically makes himself available throughout the days.
III worried that IV would be a wrench in the works, but it turns out that throwing another omega into the mix isn’t that much of a disruption. IV doesn’t set off III’s instincts in the way that the alphas do.
Mostly, IV lays with him in the living room and watches movies with the subtitles on over his shoulder. The low volume of the television provides a soothing backdrop as III snoozes against his neck.
II checks on them both throughout the day. Occasionally he urges IV up to eat, to which III protests grumpily but lets him go, and he always brings IV back with a full belly, which is almost a better way to snuggle with him. IV always nuzzles against him afterward, like a milk-drunk puppy.
III’s heat finally hits midday in the middle of the week. He’s tucked up in IV’s arms, and he starts to wake up as he feels a rush of slick threaten to overspill.
“Oh,” he says, pushing up so he can look at IV, who is already looking back at him like he’s already caught onto what’s happening.
III makes to stand up, but he wobbles a little on the way up. IV steadies him with a hand on his hip and pulls his legs up so he sits on the couch instead of laying down.
III stands in front of him and takes account of his body for a minute before he raises his voice and calls out for II.
II stumbles into the living room after a moment and asks him what he needs.
III answers promptly, “Vessel.”
He can feel the arousal simmering in his stomach, threatening to take him over.
II takes his phone out and thumbs out a message to summon Vessel from the studio.
III looks down at IV, takes in his worried gaze and tense posture and holds his hand out.
IV looks at II before he takes III’s hand in his. III winces as his stomach starts to cramp, but he takes the time to reassure IV. “I’m still okay, promise. Vessel’s gonna take care of me, and II’s gonna stay with you.”
IV nods like he’s trying to believe III, but III knows that sometimes experiences are ingrained, and expectations are hard to change. III knows what it feels like to be scared of what will happen during a heat.
Thankfully, he hasn’t had to be frightened of them in a very long while.
Vessel comes up the stairs after a few minutes, concern written over his face, and III shoots him a desperate look.
Vessel’s brow furrows at his expression, but III puts him off for a moment so he can curve his body around IV for a hug. IV holds onto him tightly for a moment.
“See you on the other side?” III asks him, and IV nods quickly against his shoulder.
When they part, III presses a firm kiss to IV’s forehead.
“Look after II, he’s hopeless without me,” he says, and then he holds hands with Vessel and heads for the stairs.
“Hope you weren’t working on anything too important,” III says as they hit the upstairs hallway.
“More important than you?” Vessel asks. “No way.”
III stops to kiss him against the closed door of his bedroom. Vessel wraps a big hand around his waist and flips them, and III laughs a little breathlessly.
Vessel leaves a series of biting kisses down the length of his neck and then turns the knob of the door. III doesn’t stumble because Vessel holds him upright as he moves them into his bedroom and pushes him toward the bed.
III bounces on the bed a little as he lands, and he scrambles back until his head hits the pillows.
Vessel moves to follow him up on the bed and III stops him with a foot to his chest. “Get naked,” he says seriously.
III wasn’t lying to IV when he said Vessel was a good listener. He watches with heavy eyes as Vessel strips, revealing the cut of his hips and the swell of his chest.
III gets a hand around his cock through his pants and moans.
“What do you want?” Vessel asks. It’s his turn to sound a little breathless as he looks down at III.
III hums, considering his options, as he pushes his pants off his skinny hips. Vessel reaches forward to help him when he can’t wriggle out of his shirt without getting caught in it.
“Wanna come on your tongue first,” he decides. “Wanna be on top.”
Vessel lays on his back, and III takes a moment to just look at him. Vessel endures his examination for a moment and then says, “Come on, kiss me.”
III runs a hand from Vessel’s belly button to his throat, and then smiles at him a little meanly. Vessel’s expression goes hot at the look.
He gives in, leaning down to lick into Vessel’s mouth. They make out for a few more minutes, and then Vessel encourages him to straddle him.
III braces his hand on the headboard and knee walks his way up Vessel’s body. Vessel wraps his arms around III’s thighs and licks his way into III’s slick hole. III’s mouth drops open as he rocks against Vessel’s face, and Vessel keeps up until III comes, just like he wanted, against Vessel’s tongue. Vessel continues licking up into him with broad strokes of his tongue until III pushes him away, hand threaded through Vessel’s hair. He looks down at him as he breathes heavily, taking in Vessel’s appearance and how shiny his face is with III’s slick.
The overstimulation doesn’t last long, not with his heat licking up his spine. “Let me ride you,” III pants.
Vessel groans and helps III reposition. III doesn’t let go of his hair and pulls Vessel up into a sit, so his cock rubs against his abdomen as he moves.
Vessel cradles him there as he lowers himself onto his cock. They kiss until Vessel bottoms out inside III.
“You gonna knot me?” III asks.
“Anything you want,” Vessel says a little mindlessly, and III laughs against his cheek.
III bounces against his lap, and he knows Vessel means it.
II has a tough time getting IV to leave the couch. He thinks it has to do with scents, so he leaves him there for a moment to retrieve a hoodie from III’s hamper to bring back to him.
He can hear III through Vessel’s door. He can hear them having a good time, but he knows he won’t be able to convince IV of that if he hears them.
He takes the stairs quickly, eager not to leave IV alone long. IV hasn’t moved when he gets back, and he offers III’s hoodie to IV and helps him shrug it on. It seems to shake IV out of his head, and he looks up at II.
“He’s having fun,” II reassures him.
IV looks at him dubiously. II doesn’t take it personally.
II tries to think about what he can do to distract IV, and has a hard time coming up with things that IV likes. He naps a lot, which makes sense since he’s coming out of a situation in which he had to be on high alert all the time. He watches television, but he doesn’t seem to have a preference for what he watches. II knows that he lets Vessel read to him when they spend time in the sunroom, but he lets Vessel choose the books.
“You wanna check out the studio?” II asks.
It’s the last place, besides their individual bedrooms, that IV hasn’t explored.
IV nods a little listlessly.
“Come on, sweetheart,” II says, and he notices how the name pinks up IV’s cheeks a little bit.
IV links his first finger with II’s and follows him down the stairs.
IV’s eyes are drawn to the piano first, a sleek black instrument that sits against the back wall. There’s studio equipment littered around the space, and a vocal booth tucked into the corner. On another wall various guitars are mounted, and tucked into the corner is an elaborate drum set.
II lets IV explore the space. He touches a key on the piano and looks up as the note bounces around the room.
He walks up to the guitars and presses a finger against a guitar with a baby blue body, and II says, “Vessel would teach you, if you wanted to learn.”
IV looks over his shoulder. II thinks he might look interested, but it’s hard to tell.
“He taught III how to play,” II explains. “He likes the bass guitar best.”
IV bites his lip, and his gaze slides back to the guitars longingly.
II files the information away and resolves to share it with Vessel later.
IV looks from the drum kit to II with a question in his eyes and II says, “Ah, that’s mine.”
IV motions toward it, and II follows his unvoiced instruction and queues up a track that Vessel wrote, something atmospheric for a movie, and then sits behind the kit.
He reaches for a pair of drumsticks and taps his foot for a second to find the beat in the song and plays IV something improvisational. He watches IV as he plays and leans into the cymbals when he sees how IV responds to their sound.
He gives the song a breakdown, something heavier that IV sways along to, and he notes that IV seems to keep up with the beat well.
When the song ends, II swipes his arm against his forehead and pants lightly.
IV eyes him critically and then says, “You’re good at that.”
II murmurs a thank you.
“He would teach me?” IV says after a long moment.
II nods and puts the drumsticks up before he rounds the kit and turns off the sound system.
“You’d make his day, probably,” II confirms. “Would you like that?”
IV equivocates. “Maybe,” he says.
II doesn’t push him. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and lets IV lean against his side, the closest he’s come to II on his own. His fingers are curled into the hem of the sleeves of III’s hoodie.
That reminds II. “Hey,” he says lightly to get IV’s attention. “I wanted to get you some more clothes, but I didn’t just want to order them without your input. You wanna do that?”
IV pivots his body so he can drop his head against II’s shoulder. II brings his hands up to IV’s waist to comfort him.
He smoothes one hand up the length of IV’s back and hums under his breath. He can feel IV’s tears against his shirt.
“What’s the catch?” IV asks roughly.
II feels his heart breaking for IV. He hugs him for real, and says, “No catch. There’s no catch.”
“There’s always a catch,” IV argues into his shoulder, voice hitching.
“No,” II shakes his head. He echoes III when he says, “Promise, promise.”
IV cries harder against him, and II rocks them back and forth for a long time.
When IV eventually pulls back, his eyes reddened and face puffy, II tuts, worried. “Let’s let you clean up in the kitchen, and I’ll make us lunch. Then we’ll look at clothes for you.”
IV nods, eyes lowered, and follows II back upstairs. He lets II pat his eyes with a cold, wet cloth, and sits at the kitchen table while II heats up leftovers.
He leans into II’s side as they eat off the same plate, and II feels like they’re making progress.
Seeing III go through his heat unscathed did wonders for IV, Vessel thinks. He can feel the warmth from IV’s body as he sits next to him on the piano bench, not touching but close. IV watches as Vessel plinks out a tune with his fingers until he settles on a melody he thinks IV will like.
What makes IV even more comfortable is when they come up the stairs from the studio to find II kneeling for III. IV stops in shock as he sees III sat on the couch with II between his legs. II breathes easily, his temple pressed against the inside of III’s thigh, as III runs his fingers delicately through II’s hair, looking all at once bewildered – like he always does when he finds himself in a similar position — and fond.
III rounds his back so he can lean over II in this moment, and he glances up with a soft smile on his face when they enter.
IV creeps closer, looking so unsure of himself but desperately curious, and Vessel hangs back to give him space to explore what’s happening.
II blinks open sleepy eyes as IV approaches, and he smiles at IV just as fondly as III does to him.
III beckons IV closer and he comes, until he sits next to III on the couch. He looks heartbreakingly confused.
III begins to rearrange the scene. He takes II gently by the chin and encourages him to shuffle over toward IV. II goes willingly and lets III rest his chin against IV’s knee.
IV tenses, but II looks just as blissed out with his chin balanced on IV’s knee as he did cradled against III’s thigh.
IV’s gaze flickers between III and Vessel before it settles back on II, and he looks at him with a sense of wonder in his eyes. III continues petting through II’s hair, and he curls up close against IV’s side.
Vessel would like to capture this moment forever, but he doesn’t want to spoil what’s happening in front of him. He resolves to remember it forever.
III meets his eyes over IV’s shoulder and his lips quirk up into a slight smile.
Fifteen minutes into the interaction sees II fully relaxed against IV, one hand curled loosely around IV’s ankle. He breathes steadily, eyes half-lidded as he looks up at IV. IV lifts a hand and pulls it to his own chest hesitantly, and then seems to steel his resolve and gently reaches out to walk his fingers across II’s cheek.
II rolls from his chin to his cheek against IV’s knee and goes a little boneless where he sits.
Vessel could kiss him, and he will later.
IV presses the pads of his fingers against the line of II’s jaw.
Vessel watches from his seat on the other side of the couch and presses his own fingers along the line of III’s spine.
III scoots back until he can sprawl against Vessel’s side, parting from IV and II.
IV’s eyes slide across to III and Vessel, eyes widening a touch with panic but III nods encouragingly. IV bites his lip and then moves his hand so he can pick up where III left off in running his fingers through II’s hair.
II lets out a little sigh, and Vessel buries his face against III’s nape, nose bumping against the topmost notch of III’s spine, and thanks him silently and desperately.
Notes:
1. I hope III and IV’s experiences with being omegas seem different enough lol. Fun fact, the first part of the first scene was actually the first part of this fic that I wrote.
2. Hello, surprise, I posted chapter two for you today. 🥰
3. The reception on this fic has been super great, thank you! I’m living for your comments, truly!!
4. Happy Sleep Token Day!!
5. Find me on tumblr @huntingteeth!!
Chapter Text
IV slips into the kitchen one morning without III, while II is fixing breakfast. II greets him with warm eyes as IV sits at the kitchen table and fiddles with the placemat.
II makes him a cup of tea while IV figures out what he wants to say. Finally, he settles on, “My heat is due in a week and a half.”
II slides the mug across the table to him and IV takes it with grateful hands. He watches as II checks to make sure nothing will burn in the meantime and then settles down at the table across from him.
“Thank you for telling me,” II says. “We can stay away.”
IV doesn’t know how to ask what he needs to ask. “I—” he says falteringly, suddenly scared even though he hasn’t had to be scared in a while. “I don’t know that I can do it alone.”
II’s eyes are piercing, but not in a way that’s intimidating. “Have you asked III if he’ll stay with you?”
“I would like III to be there, yes,” IV says instead of answering the question II poses. His lips downturn as he tries not to cry. These alphas may be different than the other alphas he’s interacted with, but nothing ever good has come from crying in front of one. “I don’t think I can do it without an alpha.”
What he means is he can’t possibly make it through without a knot. The knowledge sits horribly at the bottom of his stomach. He knows that omegas can make it through heats without being knotted. It’s a biological imperative, but it’s not a necessity. III said that sometimes he rides his heats out alone, and there’s a whole period of time in a young omega’s life where it’s considered uncouth, if not immoral, to knot them.
But III hasn’t gone through the same sort of training that IV has, is the thing. He hasn’t been made to crave it during his heats, regardless of what he wants outside of a heat. IV knows how he’ll act if the knotting is withheld, as much as the thought scours him with embarrassment and shame, because his previous owner would do it sometimes to watch him writhe with panic and cry and beg to be knotted. He thought it was funny, got a sick thrill from watching IV dissolve while he thought he would die.
II gently touches his fingers to the back of IV’s hand where it’s curled around his cup. “Whatever you need is yours,” he says softly.
IV can’t help the tears that roll down his cheeks. Miraculously, all that comes from II is genuine concern. All that ever comes from II is genuine.
“Do you want me or Vessel?” II asks in his pragmatic way.
IV doesn’t know how to say this without offending either one of them, so he just states it like a fact. “You. Vessel is so much bigger than me,” he says dully. “You, I could— I could—”
“You could fight me off if you thought you had to,” II says, and there’s no judgement in his eyes when IV looks for it. “That makes sense.”
IV flips his hand over so that II can press those same fingers into the palm of his hand.
II doesn’t detach, but he does leave his seat at the table so he can crouch in front of IV, putting himself below eye level. “Tell me what you don’t want. What boundaries do you have?”
The tears fall harder because no one’s ever asked him that before. No one’s ever cared enough about him. II reaches up with the hand not holding IV’s and waits for IV’s nod before he brushes the tears away with his knuckles.
“You can’t put me on my stomach,” IV starts. “Nothing around my neck, no hands or—or anything else. I have to be able to see what’s going on at all times.”
“You got it,” II says. “What else?”
IV’s bottom lip trembles. “You can’t be mean to me.”
“Never,” II promises.
“You can’t hit me.”
II looks mad for a second before he bottles up the emotion, but IV is starting to realize that he’s not mad at him.
He’s angry on IV’s behalf.
“I promise that no one in this house is ever going to hit you,” II says firmly.
IV nods a little helplessly. “And if I say stop,” he starts to say, but it’s II who finishes out the statement.
“I stop. No questions asked.”
IV ducks his head as he starts to cry in earnest. II cradles his head in his hands and presses the side of his jaw against IV’s head, not in a threatening way at all. II is comforting him, IV realizes, and that makes him cry harder.
When the tears dry up some indeterminate number of minutes later, IV asks the question he’s most scared to ask. “Can you—can we try it before my heat comes?”
“Yes,” II says breathlessly, “but I want III to be there too.”
“And Vessel, he won’t be mad?”
“No, sweetheart, he won’t be mad,” II confirms.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive,” II says. “He’ll be glad that we’re taking care of you.”
This stymies any argument that IV has. He’s not used to people wanting to take care of him; he’s used to receiving the bare minimum in order to protect the investment.
He realizes they’re holding hands a half-beat later. It doesn’t feel bad like IV expects it to.
Maybe III is right, maybe they are good. Maybe they are safe.
III offers up his bedroom for the occasion. He explains it easily, “II’s room will smell too much like alpha for you to be comfortable, and bringing II into your room will be— uncomfortable. You won’t feel safe.”
But III’s room will have an equal mix of alpha and safe omega scents that it should be a safe bet.
IV hasn’t been in III’s room, not really, so III invites him inside beforehand. He takes in the decoration: band posters, video game figurines, and weird surrealist art. III’s bed is kind of a mess, but it doesn’t bother him, and it doesn’t seem to bother IV. There’s a computer on the desk, and a television with a couple of gaming systems. Some of his clothes are strewn across the floor and in a laundry hamper, and he has a bathroom connected to his room as well.
III gestures to the room, and then throws himself on the bed.
“You have– stuff,” IV says, but III know what he means.
“I do,” III agrees, and then he slants his eyes toward IV. “You can have stuff too.”
III pats the bed next to him and IV sits on the edge after a moment.
“I’ve never had stuff,” IV says.
“Anything you want,” III offers.
IV shrugs. III gets it; it’s overwhelming.
“Come here,” he says, instead of pushing him on the subject. He pats the spot next to where he’s laying and IV slowly comes to rest on his side facing III.
III reaches out and curls a lock of blond hair around a finger. IV goes cross-eyed trying to watch his hand.
III huffs a laugh and then drapes his arm across IV’s waist. It’s easier to be close to another omega, he knows, and they’ve had a lot of practice. IV relaxes into his touch easily.
“II’s a good choice,” III murmurs. “Vessel would have been good too, of course, but I’m glad you chose II.”
IV makes a curious sound.
“Vessel’s a good listener,” III continues. “He’ll do what you say, but that’s its own kind of pressure.”
IV scoots closer and III tangles their legs together.
“And II?” IV asks.
III sighs dreamily. “He always knows what to do to make me feel good. It matters to him. Not that it doesn’t matter to Vessel, mind you.”
“That sounds nice,” IV whispers.
“It really is,” III whispers back, and then, “Kiss me, please.”
IV stretches his neck up as III cranes his head down, and their lips meet. III feels it when IV places his hand flat against his chest — not pushing him away — and he presses into their closed-mouth kiss a little harder before he breaks away. IV follows him for half a second, like he doesn’t want to stop kissing III.
III tucks their noses together and smiles at IV, even if IV can’t see it. He’s sure he can feel it though, like he can feel the smile playing across IV’s face.
“When we do this, where do you want me?” III murmurs. “I could sit over in the desk chair, so I could watch and make sure the only things that happen to you are things you want to happen.”
IV makes a sound and shakes his head a little bit.
“No? Too far away?” He can feel IV’s knees tightening together imperceptibly, and he continues, “I could sit on the bed beside you two.”
Now, he catches the faint smell of slick and feels the way IV shifts his hips back and forth, tiny movements, and he rolls IV onto his back carefully and slides behind him to rest against the headboard. “I could hold you here,” he says, as IV lays back against him.
“I would have the best view,” III teases.
He should expect it, but he’s still surprised when IV rolls his head back against his shoulder and says, “Get II here.”
III fumbles blindly for his phone and presses his mouth against IV’s temple as he laughs, not meanly. He taps out a message to II in front of IV’s body and then waits for II’s response. It comes quickly, his phone vibrating insistently, and IV asks, “What did he say?”
III tells him that he’s on his way as he throws his phone to the side, and IV arches his back just a little so he can reach III’s mouth to kiss him again.
III runs a hand down IV’s chest, stopping just short of his waistband. IV makes another sound as he pets his fingers there and licks inside his mouth.
When II eases the door open, this is how he finds them: III with his hand against IV’s belly and his shirt rucked up, the slick sounds of their dragging kisses, and the smell of their combined arousal in the air.
He closes the door softly behind him and walks up to the foot of the bed. IV whines as III pulls away, but his gaze darts over to II as he approaches.
“Hello, sweetheart,” II says. “Is III being sweet to you?”
III watches as IV’s cheeks fill with the same delicate blush that always appears when II calls him sweetheart.
IV nods.
II knee walks up the bed until he’s close enough, and then he reaches out and softly places his hand against the side of IV’s jaw. “Can I kiss you?”
IV nods again, short and quick, and says, “Please.”
III has the distinct pleasure of watching them kiss for the first time. II cradles IV’s head gently in his palms and kisses him. II licks into IV’s mouth like III did before, and III can feel his own arousal lick up his spine. II pulls back and presses a closed-mouth kiss to IV’s lips and murmurs, “Say stop.”
IV makes a confused sound and repeats, “Stop.”
II stops and pulls back until he’s resting on his knees on the bed beside them.
“Oh,” IV says, eyes a little wide as he realizes what II’s demonstrating. He reaches out for II, and II goes willingly.
They kiss for another few moments, until IV is a squirmy mess between II and III.
IV doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this turned on between heats, if at all. Between III’s heavy petting against his stomach and the chin he hooks over IV’s shoulder and the way II kisses him hotly, IV’s not sure he’s ever felt like this.
II and III kiss over his shoulder for a moment, and he can hear the soft slide of their mouths in his ear. When he moans – a tiny, light sound — II pulls back from III to look at him in wonder.
“Look at you,” he says, almost to himself, and then he ducks down to nuzzle his nose behind IV’s ear and whisper, “Let me undress you.”
IV nods his head so quickly it feels like it’s on a swivel, and he feels the smile II presses to the side of his neck.
II takes his time, presses kisses to each part of his body that he reveals. He cups an ankle delicately and presses a kiss to the bone there before he sets IV’s leg down and glides up the plane of IV’s body. He hooks his fingers in the hem of IV’s shirt and pulls it off as he goes and kisses IV again.
IV shudders when he realizes that he’s naked between them and it doesn’t feel bad.
II pulls back to examine his reaction as III walks his fingers under IV’s chin to pull his head back and ask him, “You okay?”
IV nods, says, “I’m okay.”
IV reaches his hands up so he can pull III down to kiss him again. III kisses him back like he would eat him if he could, like he would swallow him whole if given half an opportunity, and IV finds he doesn’t mind the feeling.
When III breaks the kiss, IV pinches II’s shirt between his fingers and asks, “You next?”
II answers him by pulling his shirt off.
IV knew II had tattoos, could see the ones that covered his arms and dipped below his shirtsleeves, but he didn’t realize the extent of them. IV sits up a little and grips II by the shoulders so he can peer down his back, where the rest of the color whirls and twirls. II grips him by the waist to keep his balance where he’s straddled over IV’s hips, and III laughs lightly behind him.
“He has more on his legs,” III shares like a secret, and IV pushes at II’s waistband, hoping to speed him along so he can see those too.
II giggles a little at his eagerness, a sound so incongruous to the moment that IV forgets to feel nervous, and pulls his pants off. IV’s hands land on his bare thighs when he settles back across his lap and trace the tattoos there.
II pours him back into III’s waiting arms and lets IV touch him as much as he wants.
IV can feel himself chubbing up against II, the simmering arousal low in his own hips and back and deep in his belly.
He can’t remember the last time that was important to anyone else. His previous owner couldn’t have cared less about whether or not IV was aroused, let alone if he came or not, inside or outside of a heat. All that mattered was how IV clenched around him.
“Hey,” II says lightly to get his attention. “Stay here with me.”
IV refocuses on the moment that he’s in. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
“You’re fine,” II reassures him. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
III digs his chin against IV’s shoulder a little bit and looks down the length of their bodies to where they’re pressed together and says, “This is the best day of my life.”
II laughs, full-bellied, at that, and IV marvels at the sound.
He touches his fingers to II’s face and says, “You’re gonna take care of me?”
II smiles down at him, like it’s easy, and says, “Yes, of course.”
IV believes him.
II doesn’t knot him this time, and IV is grateful for it.
II still explains, says, “There’s no reason to outside of your heat if it’s not something you want. I don’t want to hurt you.”
IV feels like something precious, something treasured, with II’s words.
II takes his time to prep him, which is something else IV isn’t used to. As he scissors his fingers gently, he presses kisses to the insides of IV’s thighs, and then presses his mouth to where he’s fingering IV, licking up between his fingers.
His eyes stay trained on IV’s face so he must see it when IV throws his head back against III’s shoulder and moans, long and low.
II eases another finger inside as he continues to lick where IV is most open, and III digs his nose against IV’s cheek and mutters, “Feels good, huh?”
He reaches down and presses the palm of his hand against the underside of IV’s hard cock as II pushes against a bundle of nerves inside him. IV convulses as he comes, cum spattering up his stomach and chest, accompanied by a rush of slick soaking II’s face.
II pulls away delicately, fingers still tucked inside his body, so he doesn’t leave IV empty, and leans up IV’s body to let III lick across his mouth before he kisses him.
III moans at the taste, and IV turns his head so he can nuzzle against II’s jaw. II breaks away from III with a hard final kiss and looks at IV with something large and unidentifiable in his eyes. He crooks his fingers inside IV just to see him moan again, breath coming in short, fast pants.
“Sweetheart,” he croons lowly, and repeats, “Look at you, gorgeous. You’re doing so well.”
He pulls his fingers from IV’s body and kisses him before IV can whimper. He scoots back, just a little, so he can rearrange their position and drapes IV’s thighs across his own. IV only has the chance to feel exposed for a short second, and then II leans up and presses a firm hand down on the bed next to III’s hip.
“You still want this?” II asks him, and then, “If it stops being good, tell me and we’ll stop.”
IV can’t think of anything he wants less. He doesn’t want II to stop, and he lets him know by digging his heel into II’s lower back.
II kisses him as he pushes inside. IV moans into his mouth until II’s hips are flush with his ass. II breaks their kiss to press one to IV’s cheek, and grinds against him.
His pace stays slow as he pulls out, but he presses back in deeply. IV lets himself get lost in the gentle rocking of their bodies.
He can feel III behind him, keeping him steady and safe, feels his hands running against his body, reaching out to pull II back in when he pulls too far away.
IV pulls II closer to him with an arm wrapped around his back, and II huffs a laugh against his shoulder before he presses a kiss against the ball of IV’s shoulder.
IV feels the arousal simmering over in his belly, and he comes again against II’s stomach as he grinds into the clutch of IV’s body.
“There you go,” III purrs against his temple.
II’s pace doesn’t falter — he thrusts in once, twice, three more times before he pulls out and spills over the soft space of IV’s belly, mixing their cum together.
IV looks down the line of their bodies and heaves in air. III reaches around and rubs his fingers through the mess before he smears it across II’s mouth.
A shocked sound leaves IV’s mouth even as II’s mouth opens around III’s slick fingers.
II grins down at him around III’s fingers. III withdraws and pats him on the cheek. II pulls back and encourages IV to lay down on the bed beside III. “I’m gonna get a washcloth, okay?”
He waits for IV to nod before he gets off the bed, stretching as he goes. IV watches the line of his back as he goes.
He turns his head to look at III, who moves down so their faces are close together.
“What are you thinking about?” III says, pressing the fingers of his clean hand against IV’s cheek.
IV bites his lip, chewing on it for a second before he starts, “Do you think…” and trails off.
II comes back with a warm washcloth and starts wiping down IV’s stomach. He finishes cleaning up IV and moves onto III’s hand and mouth.
“What’s up, sweetheart?”
His eyes slide across from where he runs his hand through III’s hair to look at IV fondly.
IV turns on his side to stretch his body — sore, but not in a bad way. He didn’t know it could be like this. III edges his body closer and dances his fingers across IV’s cheek.
“Can we nap?” IV asks, biting at the skin around his thumbnail. It’s not quite what he wanted to ask, but it touches the edge of what he wants to ask.
II’s eyes soften around the corners, and he smiles. He reaches down to cup IV’s cheek in his hand and bends down to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re cute,” he says with a smile. “Of course we can.”
IV can feel his cheeks flushing under the praise.
II stands up from the bed and digs around in III’s hamper for a shirt that he shrugs on; the fabric swamps his form, but he wears it with a comfortability that suggests he steals III’s clothes often. He pulls a second shirt out and tosses it toward the bed, and rifles through the clothes by the side of the bed until he comes back with IV’s boxers.
IV lets II dress him carefully.
“No,” he says, “can we all nap?”
II pauses with his hands on the hem of IV’s boxers as he settles them on his hips.
“I keep telling you,” II says, dipping his head so he can make eye contact with IV, “you can have anything you want.”
III’s already texting Vessel.
When Vessel comes in, the expression in his eyes is incredibly tender, and he lets IV direct him to the bed behind him. II settles between IV and III, who requires a cold side when he sleeps, and brushes his nose gently against IV’s.
IV doesn’t look at him with stars in his eyes, because he’s too jaded for that, but he does look at him with something dangerously close to hope before his eyes slip shut.
II makes eye contact with Vessel over IV’s shoulder, and Vessel slips an arm over IV’s waist so he can touch his fingers against II’s hip.
IV finds Vessel in his bedroom but stops short of entering the other man’s room. He waits in the doorway until Vessel notices him, eyes lighting up as he sticks a finger in his book to mark his place.
“You can come in whenever you want,” Vessel says, even as IV equivocates at the threshold. “What do you need?”
IV shrugs again, unsure of how to ask for what he wants even if it is so simple. The truth is, he’s bored. He thought seeking out one of the others might help.
“Come here,” Vessel beckons, and IV steps hesitantly toward him.
Vessel lets him snuggle up against his side, the final barrier between them having fallen away since the night Vessel slept tucked up behind IV. IV stretches his arm out along Vessel’s stomach and gets comfortable.
“Would you read to me?” IV asks.
“Do you want me to start at the beginning?” Vessel asks, but he loses his place regardless as he flips to the beginning of the book he’s been reading.
IV tries to pay attention to the story, some fantasy novel that Vessel obviously loves, if the worn pages and creased spine are any indication. He really does, but Vessel’s voice and the tender arm he wraps around IV lulls him into an easy sleep.
III finds them later, Vessel still reading even as IV sleeps, and hooks a hand around the doorframe so he can swing into the room and grin at Vessel.
Vessel smiles back and folds down the corner of the page before he shuts the book.
“He been asleep long?” III asks, at the very least trying to be quiet. “We picked him up some stuff from the shops.”
Vessel looks at the clock and then nods when he realizes it’s been almost an hour and a half.
III hums and says, “I hate to wake him up. Let him sleep. Come find us when he wakes up.”
Vessel nods gently and then leans his jaw against IV’s head. IV breathes gently against his chest. III watches them for a moment longer, like he desperately wants to join them, before he flits out of the room and down the stairs.
IV sleeps for another hour.
III was like this too, after he came to them. Even after his injuries healed up, he slept long swathes of the day away, like his body was finally realizing it was safe. Vessel hopes it’s the same for IV, even as he knows IV’s getting close to preheat territory.
When IV starts to wake up, he rubs his face against Vessel’s shirt and scrunches his nose. It’s really cute, Vessel thinks, one eye on his book so he doesn’t overwhelm IV. IV yawns and blinks his eyes open against the dim light of Vessel’s room.
He tenses for a moment before he realizes where he is, so Vessel loosens his hold on him, but he feels something warm bloom in his chest as IV relaxes against him.
“Good sleep?” Vessel asks quietly.
IV nods against his chest.
“II and III got back while you were asleep,” Vessel says. “III wanted you to come find him when you woke up.”
IV pushes up into a sit next to Vessel. He blinks a little absently as he continues to wake up.
Quietly, he says, “I think my preheat’s started.”
Vessel sets his book aside and stands up from the bed. He offers IV a hand to help him off the bed. “What do you need?”
IV slides off the bed and leans against Vessel’s side. It breaks Vessel’s heart how affectionate IV is when given the opportunity — or when he feels safe.
Vessel is glad that he’s considered safe now.
IV shrugs a little listlessly. “I’ve never really…” he trails off. He steels his resolve and finishes, “I’ve never really had a chance to just have a preheat.”
That makes Vessel’s stomach turn. He wraps an arm around IV’s back so he can hug him. IV melts a little in his arms.
“Let’s go find II and III,” he murmurs into IV’s hair. “We can figure out what you need from there.”
Notes:
1. Uh lol, yes, you did see that correctly, the chapter count did go up by one. I guesstimated incorrectly.
2. This sex scene is maybe one of my favorite sex scenes that I’ve written, so I hope you enjoyed it!
3. Thanks for all your lovely comments; I’m truly living for them.
Chapter Text
There are several shopping bags littering the coffee table and III sprawled out on the sofa, idly scrolling through his phone when Vessel and IV finally make their way downstairs.
III lights up when he spots IV, and he scrambles up so he can pat the seat beside him. “II,” he calls out.
II, who has been flitting in and out of rooms since they got back from shopping, walks back into the living room and says, “Oh good, you’re awake.”
IV tugs on Vessel’s sleeve a little, and Vessel hums a little to catch II’s attention.
II cocks his head, a question in his eyes, and Vessel answers, “IV’s preheat started.”
IV releases Vessel’s sleeve and slides to sit on the sofa next to III. He pulls his knees up to his chest, and III drapes an arm around his shoulders.
III presses his nose against IV’s hair and smells the sweetening of his scent that indicates the start of a preheat.
Vessel sits in the armchair across from the couch.
“What do you need?” II asks.
IV leans closer to III and huffs a laugh. “That’s exactly what Vessel said.”
“Yeah, well,” II says, patting Vessel’s knee as he passes to rummage through a bag. “He’s a smart guy.”
Vessel flashes him a smile.
“I don’t know,” IV says absently. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve just… had a preheat.”
III breathes against IV’s hair, focusing on his familiar scent, and stamps down on the anger he can feel curling in his stomach. IV doesn’t deserve anger in this moment; it doesn’t serve him to feel the anger coming off III, even if it’s toward the bastard who had IV before them.
He watches with sharp eyes as II stills. II takes a couple deep breathes, and III sees as he takes his similar anger and carefully boxes it up so it doesn’t touch IV.
Preheats are an important part of the heat process. A preheat gives an omega time to prepare both their bodies and minds for the tumultuous time that is a heat, even one that isn’t traumatic. Knowing that IV has been denied this time in the past makes something burn in his gut. He can read between the lines of what IV isn’t saying: that his previous alpha probably fucked him through his preheat and into his heat.
III’s pimp wasn’t a kind person in any sense of the word, but he at least had the sense to know that an omega who went through the bare minimum of a preheat turned a better profit.
II crouches in front of the coffee table, hand still half in the bag in front of him, and looks at IV. “We can figure it out.”
Vessel’s grin grows as IV laughs a little more.
“Vessel said that too,” he says.
III watches the besotted expression cross II’s face. He doesn’t say anything else, but he does pull out the smartphone they got IV and pass it across the coffee table to IV, who takes it from him incredibly tentatively.
IV looks questioningly up at II.
“It’s already set up on our plan,” II explains as he stands back up. “I went ahead and put in our phone numbers. III can help you set up the facial recognition to unlock it and get any apps you want set up.”
IV eyes the phone in his hand like it might bite him.
“I’m gonna add you to the group chat,” III says brightly, as he juggles his phone in his other hand to do just that.
IV jumps a little bit as the phone in his hand vibrates.
An odd expression crosses IV’s face, a little distressed, and he drops the phone on his lap and curls in on himself a little.
“You can ignore the chat if you want,” II says. “We just wanted you to have a way to get in contact with us if you needed.”
IV nods against his knees, face hidden, and says, muffled, “Thank you.”
III shoots II and Vessel a confused look at IV’s reaction. II chews on his lip for a second and then shakes his head lightly. Vessel frowns a little.
“We can figure it out later,” III says. “We got you some other things too.”
IV takes a second to uncurl, and when he does, he breathes quietly for a moment. “Okay,” he says quietly.
III frowns a little bit at IV’s swift change in demeanor.
“The clothes we picked out last week are currently in the wash,” II says, back to business, “but we got you some things for your room.”
II nudges a bag forward and IV leans forward to pull out a blanket that III knows is very soft because he picked it out. IV shakes it out and presses it to his chest. He pulls out a couple of books from the bottom of the bag and the distressed look comes back. He looks around at the three of them a little wildly, before his eyes land on Vessel.
Vessel’s brows furrow in concern.
II pushes another bag forward and IV rummages through it, coming out with a couple of boxed puzzles with beautiful city scenes, and he says, “Oh. Thank you.”
He presses his fingers against one of the boxes and runs his finger down the illustrated lamppost.
II tilts his head a little and seems to rethink whatever he was about to ask, because he says instead, “We got you some plants too, for your room.”
IV nods a little absently.
III chews on his lip a little and then asks, “You want help taking this stuff up to your room?”
IV nods again and then he shakes his head. “Can you help me set up the phone?”
“Yeah, of course,” III says.
Vessel says something about taking the bags upstairs as he gathers them up from the coffee table. II gives them a wide berth too, so III can walk IV through the process of setting up his phone to unlock with his face. III shows him their contacts and watches as IV carefully presses his finger next to the pictures that populate next to Vessel, II, and III’s contacts.
He shows him the camera next and the various other apps, including a music app and an app that he can watch videos on.
IV thanks him at the end and slides the phone into his pocket. He tucks his head against III’s neck and III snakes his other arm around IV, unsure why he still feels so sad and what caused the change in his mood.
IV leans into the hug, though, and grips him back hard.
II thinks about the time that IV has lived with them as he cleans the kitchen. He thinks about the types of things that IV seeks out when he seems listless, like listening to Vessel read or watching television with the subtitles on. He puzzles out the edges of his thoughts and wonders if the conclusions that he’s coming up with are correct.
Some time later, IV finds him in the kitchen.
“You hungry?” II asks, distracted.
IV shakes his head and tentatively bumps against II’s side. II lifts an arm and gently drapes it around IV’s shoulders. Touching him, he can feel IV’s elevated temperature.
“You okay?” II asks, turning his attention to IV fully.
IV nods against his shoulder. “I’m okay,” he says, but II can feel the tremor in IV’s body.
II wraps his other arm around and IV sags into his arms.
“How can I help?” II asks.
“I don’t know,” IV says.
II rocks them gently from side to side.
IV pulls away after a little bit longer and scrubs his face with his hands. II leans against the counter and watches him.
“Can I ask you something?” II asks.
IV nods.
“How did you end up with your previous alpha?”
IV winces and hugs his arms around himself. “Uh, he bought me after I presented.”
II reaches out with his hand, and luckily IV reaches back. He tangles their fingers together and steps closer to II.
“I was, like, thirteen or fourteen,” IV says quietly. “He sent me to the training program for a few years, and then I went to live with him.”
II rubs his thumb against the back of IV’s hand. IV goes quiet and orbits II’s space for a moment before he gives in and leans against II’s side again. II hugs him.
“I like it here better,” IV says into II’s shoulder.
II thinks that the bar is so low. Every small piece of information IV reveals about his previous life makes II’s heart ache.
“Was the phone too overwhelming?” II asks.
IV shrugs a little and then nods.
II doesn’t ask what he wants to ask directly, and instead hedges, “We can get you set up with audiobooks if you want.”
IV sighs heavily against II’s shoulder and then asks, “Is it that obvious?”
II shakes his head. “No, I don’t think the others have put it together. I didn’t, until you reacted to the things we got you.”
IV curls into him a little bit more.
“We’ll figure that out too,” II says gently. “In the meantime, we can turn on the accessibility feature so that it can read texts to you.”
IV pulls back a little. He doesn’t quite meet II’s eyes, but he searches his expression, looking for something. II endures his examination and waits for IV to speak.
“You and Vessel,” IV says haltingly. “You really aren’t like any other alphas I’ve met.”
II doesn’t say anything as flippant as I should hope not, because it isn’t helpful. The whole system – the whole world, it seems like — is set up to keep omegas down. Sure, omega rights are a far cry higher than they were even fifty years ago, but they’re not great by any stretch of the imagination. They still allow for the purchase of omega’s bodies, whether for sex work like III or their whole personhood like IV. The entire system turns a blind eye to the mistreatment of omegas in order to turn a profit.
II fits a hand gently around the side of IV’s face and tips their foreheads together. IV breathes with him, and II mourns the childhood IV lost to this, and resolves to give him anything and everything he could want.
After a moment, II says, “You kind of have an idea of what III likes during his preheats.”
He’s not sure if III spelled it out in so many words to IV his preferences, but he’s willing to do it to give IV a starting point to start thinking about what he might like during this time.
“He likes Ves and I to give him space,” II continues. “He likes to nap.”
“He likes to nap regardless,” IV snarks, just a little bit.
II pulls back and laughs. He leaves his hand on IV’s face. “You’re not wrong. We’ve figured out through trial and error that he likes to eat foods that are more on the heavy side during his preheats.”
IV’s nose wrinkles a little bit, like he’s imagining trying to eat a heavy pasta right now and can’t quite manage it.
“You don’t have to want the same things he does,” II reminds him carefully. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“Can I, can you…” IV trails off. He frowns, frustrated that he can’t just ask what he wants to ask.
II knows telling him that he can have whatever he wants is a sentiment that isn’t quite enough in the face of all of IV’s trauma.
IV looks at him a little desperately, and II wishes he could read IV’s mind.
He watches as IV visibly steels himself, like he’s bracing for an impact, and IV says, “I don’t want to be left alone.”
II nods.
“I need you to… I need you to take care of me,” IV says. His mouth screws up like that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say and II waits him out.
“My… comfort hasn’t ever been a priority,” IV says delicately, talking around his former alpha. “I don’t know what to ask for. You’re going to have to figure it out for me.”
II realizes what he’s looking for all at once: nonsexual intimacy.
“Look at you,” II croons at him.
IV flushes at his tone. He looks nervous, in the way that he always looks nervous, and then he nods. “That’s what I want.”
“Can I see your phone?” II asks, incongruously.
IV unlocks it before he hands it over, and II flicks through the settings until he can turn the accessibility features on. He opens the group chat and angles the phone so IV can see what he’s doing, even if he can’t read the text on the phone’s screen. He clicks on a speech bubble next to III’s picture and the phone reads out the text in a strangely robotic voice: “IV welcome to the group chat!!!!”
IV reaches out a finger and touches the letters that make up the text. “Is that my name?”
II speaks them out loud, “I-V, four. Very technically, they’re the Roman numerals for the number four, but yeah, that’s your name.”
IV mouths his name after II says it, and II finds himself so endeared. IV catches his gaze for once and stares at him.
“But look,” II continues. “If you press down on the speech bubble, there are reactions you can use, and then you can use emojis.”
II shows him how to access those, and then shows him the gifs, and then shows him how to do a voice note. “You have options,” II concludes, “or you can just call one of us.”
They’re interrupted by IV’s stomach grumbling insistently.
II urges him to sit at the table and throws out a few options before he realizes it’s overwhelming IV again.
“How about a sandwich?” He asks, defaulting to something simple. “And then something sweet.”
IV nods, a clear expression on his face. His hands clasp in his lap and he watches as II bustles around the kitchen. II brings a plate over after a few minutes with the type of sandwich he knows IV favors, some crisps, and the leftover half of a gargantuan brownie III wanted while they were out earlier and then couldn’t finish.
II watches as IV looks at him with a calculating look in his eyes before he tips his chin up, like he’s no doubt seen II do to Vessel when he’s angling for a kiss.
II laughs a little breathlessly and kisses him on the mouth softly, keeping it chaste but no less intimate for it.
IV hums, satisfied, into the kiss.
II pecks him on the cheek after he pulls back, watching the light blush diffuse against the curves of IV’s face. He sits next to IV at the table and waits while IV carefully picks around the plate until the dish is empty and IV’s belly full.
Vessel takes his cues from II during IV’s preheat. II tells him in hushed whispers trapped between their bodies in the hallway what he’s discovered about IV during this time: that he would like intimacy, which is so cute that it squeezes at Vessel’s heart a little bit, and sweet treats, which motivates Vessel to start baking.
Currently, IV sprawls against III’s side as he plays video games in the living room, half-asleep with a full stomach.
It’s unsurprising that IV would want to nap like III does, his body preparing itself for heat by conserving its energy.
Vessel has made a vanilla custard so far, and currently mixes the batter for a chocolate cake. He likes the process of baking; he finds it easier than cooking, and more meditative. He doesn’t often have an excuse to bake — outside of birthdays and the occasional celebration, neither II nor III are too big on sweets.
II is back out at the shops, not having known that he would need to get things to prepare for a heat when he and III were out before. He’ll make easy finger foods like he made when IV first arrived, easy things that Vessel can bring them in the lulls between the waves of IV’s heat.
Vessel doesn’t mind that he’s not been invited to join IV during his heat, even if his other partners will be with him. He knows that IV’s going to need an added layer of security, which is how II’s been spinning it to IV when he starts to feel sick with guilt the closer he gets to his heat.
Vessel likes getting to be protective in that way; III doesn’t tolerate it half as well. Even though there’s no one who would come to their house unannounced, Vessel can keep them safe while IV feels vulnerable with heat.
Unfortunately, the closer they get to IV’s heat, the more nightmares he’s been having. Sleep sticks close to him during the night, trying to brush the terrors away as it can, but some still slip through, and they leave IV with tear tracks down his face and violent tremors in his limbs. They’ve taken to sleeping in a pile in II’s room, half so IV can get used to the scent of his room and half so someone is always close when IV wrenches himself awake.
He hears III pause his game and he peers into the living room to see that IV has jerked himself awake. III discards the controller on the floor and curls his body around IV, whispering quietly to him.
III looks around the room until he sees Vessel and he crooks his finger to gesture Vessel into the room.
Vessel sits on the coffee table, and listens as III reassures IV, “He’s not mad, he’s not going to be mad.”
Vessel's heart breaks a little bit as he realizes that IV is still anxious and ruminating over the idea that the alpha he’s excluding from his heat will be angry with him.
“Hey, IV,” Vessel says softly. “I’m not mad. Promise, promise.”
IV sobs against III’s shoulder.
II’s a lot better at getting IV to calm down, but II isn’t here right now and Vessel ought to learn.
IV turns a little bit as Vessel touches his elbow and lets III wipe away his tears.
“Hullo, sweetheart,” Vessel says gently. He cups his hands around IV’s face when he turns his body to face Vessel and presses a kiss against his temple.
IV sags a little against his hands, so Vessel holds him up.
“I’m not mad,” Vessel repeats. “You’re not excluding me. If you decide in the future that you want me to join, I’ll be honored but even if that doesn’t happen, that’s okay. You’re in charge of you, IV.”
IV groans a little in his hands, not a happy noise at all — it sounds painful, like he’s expecting a punishment, like he can’t believe what Vessel tells him.
III looks a little wild around the edges; Vessel knows that this is getting to him more than he’d ever let on. He makes a mental note to check on him later.
Vessel wishes he could erase the memory of the alpha who broke him in this way from IV’s brain. He gathers IV up in his arms and holds him, rocking them gently side to side.
IV eventually calms, slower than he would if II were present, and breathes quietly against Vessel’s neck, III tucked up against his side as they hear the front door unlock.
Vessel is sure II can smell the distress still wafting off of IV, but he takes his time to unload his groceries in the kitchen, trusting that his partners are taking care of IV. When he’s done, he comes into the living room, and touches his hand to the back of IV’s head.
“Are they taking care of you, my love?” II eventually asks.
IV nods against Vessel’s shoulder, and Vessel can feel him wet his lips before he answers in a croaky voice, “They are.”
“Good,” II says. “I’m glad. How do you feel about a bath?”
That’s another thing they’ve realized that IV likes: a warm bath and someone to wash his hair for him.
“Vessel can go draw you a bath,” II says to IV, the instruction to Vessel direct.
Vessel presses a kiss to IV’s forehead and he pulls back. IV makes a little punched-out sound in the back of his throat.
II takes his place at the coffee table and takes a look at the state of IV. His eyes are red and puffy, and his expression is a little deadened like it always is after he comes out of one of his nightmares.
II reaches out and presses his thumb below IV’s eye, where the skin is swollen from crying. III pumps out calming pheromones where he sits next to IV, and II pats his knee in thanks.
III takes it as a cue to leave the two of them alone. He presses a kiss to IV’s hair and disappears upstairs. II knows seeing IV like this has been hard on III too and doesn’t begrudge him his escape. Sleep takes over in the absence, curling its misty aura over IV’s shoulders like a shroud.
Asking IV questions when he feels this way isn’t helpful and often causes IV to feel worse. It’s best to be firm with him and stick to facts that IV’s brain can’t dispute.
“You’re going to take a bath,” II says. “Vessel will wash your hair for you.”
IV’s still out of it and doesn’t usually make eye contact on his best days, but II can tell that he’s listening all the same.
“When you’re done, we’ll go lay down. You can choose whose bed you’d like to sleep in.”
IV’s head bobbles a little in an approximation of a nod.
“No one is mad at you, and no one feels left out.”
He stands up and helps II to stand as well. IV starts tuning in a little more as they make their way to Vessel’s bathroom, which is the only other one that houses a tub outside of IV’s. He’s lucid by the time they join Vessel in the bathroom. II undresses IV and then deposits him in the bathtub. IV curls up underneath the soapy water, and then says, “Sorry that I’m difficult.”
Vessel kneels next to the tub and says, “You’re not difficult.”
IV equivocates, but doesn’t argue.
He lets Vessel wet his hair, and II leaves them to it, intent on finding III.
Notes:
1. yes i guesstimated incorrectly on the chapter count ONCE AGAIN
2. tell me what you like best so far
3. okay love you bye
Chapter Text
II finds III sitting at the desk in his room, and he knocks gently on the door.
III’s gaze flickers to him and then back somewhere in the middle distance, but he asks, “Is IV okay?”
II shrugs and crosses his arms. He leans against the doorframe. “Probably not, but Vessel has him. Are you okay?”
III taps his fingers against his mouth and repeats, “Probably not.”
II nods slowly and sighs. He dips his head against the doorway for a moment.
“I hate this,” he says, knowing that III knows what he means.
III laughs humorlessly, “Yeah.”
II chews on his lip for a moment, intending on asking III how he can help him but what comes out instead is, “Am I making it worse?”
III’s brow furrows. His confusion is a question mark across his face.
II sighs explosively and pushes away from the doorway. He throws himself onto III’s bed. He’s meant to be comforting III. He presses the heel of his hand against his eye.
He hears III stand out of his chair, the swivel creaking, and pad the two steps from his desk to the bed. III crawls into the bed next to II and squirms his way into his arms. II threads the fingers of one hand into the hair at the nape of III’s neck.
“You’re doing fine,” III says. “This situation sucks, is all.”
II hums and pulls III closer.
“I didn’t realize how much it would affect me,” III says into his neck.
II presses a kiss against the crown of his head. He doesn’t think any of them could predict how IV’s upcoming heat would affect any of them. III has rough edges, but he’s still tender on the inside, and it’s a gift that he allows II and Vessel to see his softest parts, especially after the life he spent before them being handled so roughly.
He cards his fingers through III’s hair. “What can I do?”
III slips a hand underneath II’s shirt, seeking bare skin, and equivocates.
II feels III drag his fingers against the ridges of his ribs and knows he’s seeking comfort, self-soothing against the line of his torso. He reaches his free hand and drags it solidly up and down III’s back.
“I dunno,” III mumbles. “I guess we just have to make it through his heat and figure it out afterward.”
II frowns into III’s hair. “You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much,” he says.
III butts his head up against II’s chin. He presses his mouth against II’s jaw, maybe the most submissive he’s ever been toward II, and then nods against his cheek.
II cups III’s jaw and pulls him into a kiss. III’s fingers scrabble against his side and he makes a small sound into the kiss. II pulls back and tips their foreheads together. III’s eyes are wide and bright in the space between their faces.
“I love you,” III says, and it feels like a gift that III continuously gives him.
II rubs his thumb against III’s cheek and repeats the sentiment back. He’ll never stop repeating it back to III.
A soft knock at their door pulls III’s attention away. Vessel stands in the threshold, an unbelievably soft expression on his face. “Bath’s done,” he says.
II pushes up into a sit and asks, “Where’s IV?”
“Your room,” Vessel murmurs. “Think he’s getting close.”
II looks at III, who sits up as well. III steadies a hand on II’s shoulder and uses it as leverage to stand up off the bed. “Better make sure you’re all set.”
III slinks out of the room, headed toward II’s bedroom, and pauses to press a kiss to Vessel’s mouth.
Vessel watches as he goes.
II moves to the edge of the bed. He scrubs his hand over his face and looks up at Vessel. II’s stomach is a mess of nerves. He’s glad IV asked to have sex before his heat hit, so they have a foundation to work off of, but II doesn’t know what he’s going to be walking into with IV in a full-blown heat, and that makes him hesitant.
Vessel draws nearer and places a hand on II’s face. II leans into the touch even as he grimaces. “You’re okay,” Vessel says, and it’s not a question.
II shrugs a little in the face of Vessel’s faith in him. “How is IV doing?”
“Little anxious,” Vessel says, “but he still chose your room.”
II thinks that’s a good sign. He hopes it is.
IV still feels the safest in his own bedroom, and III’s the only one of them who can go in and out of it as he pleases. It would make sense for IV to want to go through his heat in his bedroom, but that he’s sought out the room most imbued with II’s scent has to mean it’s a good thing.
II lifts his chin and Vessel answers the unspoken request by leaning down to kiss him on the mouth. II presses into it hard, not having to search for the comfort that Vessel is so willing to provide. He loves him so much. Vessel pulls back after a moment and aims a kiss at his jaw, close to where III kissed him earlier.
“You’ve got me?” II asks him.
“You never even have to ask,” Vessel answers. “Always.”
Vessel helps him stand, and II holds onto his biceps as he looks over Vessel’s face. Vessel smiles crookedly under his examination.
“Okay,” II says. “Okay.”
Vessel was right — IV, while his heat hasn’t hit quite yet, smells like he’s getting closer. II pauses in the doorway of his room and watches the two omegas laying on his bed, turned toward each other like parentheticals. IV is dressed in some of Vessel’s clothes, and II reaches a hand back so he can grip Vessel’s. Vessel busses a kiss against the crown of II’s head in response.
Vessel pushes past him into the room and bookends himself behind III, which gives him the space to leave easily once IV’s heat comes. He presses a kiss to III’s shoulder and reaches across his body to let IV tangle their fingers together. IV, for his part, seems fretful, torn between pressing closer to III and rearranging the bedsheets around them.
II watches them for only a moment longer until IV turns his blue eyes on him and starts to sit up.
II hushes him as he steps forward, pats him back down to the bed and into III’s arms as he says, “You should rest.”
He doesn’t settle until II tucks himself up behind IV, knees stacked behind and arm curled around his waist.
IV looks at III when he says to II, “I’m scared.”
II nods against the back of his neck. “I know, sweetheart. What do you do if you want to stop?”
II can’t see IV’s expression, but he does see Vessel’s mouth downturn in response to whatever expression IV makes.
“I say stop,” IV says in a small voice.
“Yes,” II affirms. “Yes, exactly.”
“And you’ll stop,” IV continues, something unidentifiable quivering in his voice.
III’s fingers spasm against IV’s shoulder.
“Yes,” II confirms. “Every time. For anything.”
“You promise,” IV says.
II tips his forehead against the nape of IV’s neck and he breathes steadily for a moment before he replies, “I promise.”
“Promise, promise,” III murmurs.
Vessel tugs on IV’s hand, catching his attention and tugging him closer to III. II follows the motion, so IV doesn’t feel bereft on any side.
“Sleep found you,” Vessel says quietly. “He’s going to continue to keep you safe.”
IV shifts his gaze to Vessel. II watches III watch IV.
“Okay,” IV says, like Vessel’s words resonate with him.
He hasn’t shared with them what happened when Sleep first found him, but III described how he was splattered with blood when he arrived. Sleep seems to be especially fond of IV, often uncurling from Vessel to surround IV instead. II’s glad, because it seems to be something IV needs.
“Rest,” Vessel says, echoing what II said earlier, and III curls his body around IV’s to settle in for a nap.
IV falls asleep between one breath and the next, and II lets himself follow.
He wakes up; he’s unsure why until he feels IV pressing back against him. II looks across the bed and Vessel looks back, alert, and nods. Vessel vacates the bed quietly and leans across to press kisses against each of their heads before he leaves.
IV stirs awake as the door shuts. II can feel the sweat on IV’s skin, so he kicks the blankets to the end of the bed. IV groans lowly as he wakes up, and curls inward.
II looks across the bed to III, who’s already awake and staring back at him. III holds his gaze seriously for a moment before his attention turns to IV.
III cups his hands around IV’s face as IV whines lowly.
“Hello, dear,” III murmurs.
IV writhes a little against him, though it seems like it’s more out of discomfort from the heat than anything else.
II can smell the sharp scent of slick permeate his bedroom. He hears the soft whimpers that IV lets out as III peppers his face with soft kisses. He’s also aware that IV seems a lot more out of it than III does when he’s in heat, and that makes him nervous.
Aside from pressing back against him in his sleep, IV hasn’t reached out to II at all. II is hesitant to be the one who crosses that boundary first, very aware of the power imbalance between them.
III pushes IV onto his back against the sheets of II’s bed. IV stretches out and luxuriates in the sensation before he seems to realize that II is there too. His head rolls on his neck as he pants open-mouthed in II’s direction.
“Alpha,” IV says, reaching out a hand toward II.
II catches his fingers in his hand and presses a kiss to them. IV stares at him, something unidentifiable in his eyes, and then whimpers again as he curls into himself as a cramp roils through his body.
III kneels next to IV on the bed, and he watches them with eagle eyes, and prompts, “II.”
II thinks he’s speaking to him, to jostle him into action, but IV repeats his name after III says it.
II likes hearing his name fall from IV’s mouth much more than he likes hearing traditional titles, but he knows IV’s first heat with them isn’t necessarily the time to address it.
III seems to disagree.
III reaches out and thumbs at IV’s bottom lip to catch his attention. IV tries to mouth around the offending digit, but III smears his thumb across his lips and says, “You call him II.”
IV nods desperately, and III nods back before he gives into IV’s mouthing and presses his fingers down against his tongue. IV moans around his fingers, and II watches, stunned, as III pets him there gently.
After a moment, III pulls back and says, “Bet he wants to kiss you.”
II wouldn’t be able to tell who III’s talking to, except that he hasn’t stopped looking at IV. II wants to kiss IV, but he’s willing to let III orchestrate this for the moment.
The air feels charged around them in a way that feels differently than when they had sex before.
IV’s eyes flicker between II and III, and he murmurs, “Please.”
“Yeah,” III says, “tell him what you want.”
IV looks unsure, and II desperately wants to wipe the expression off his face, but he continues to let III guide the interaction.
III nods, encouragingly, and IV hesitantly moves his gaze to II.
“Alph—” IV cuts himself off before III can correct him, and says, “II.”
II squeezes his fingers.
“K-kiss me,” IV stumbles, and II does, even before IV murmurs a please against his lips.
IV’s face is hot against his hand as II cradles his jaw. IV reaches up and loops a hand around his neck to keep II close, even as II has no intention of pulling away.
II lets IV direct the kiss, and it turns heated quickly.
III lets them kiss for a while, and then he threads his fingers through II’s hair and pulls him back.
II takes in the sight below him: IV’s bruised lips, the way he heaves for breath, his half-lidded eyes.
“Remember how sweet he was to you?” III asks IV. “He can be that sweet again.”
“Please,” IV repeats.
II shakes his head out of III’s grip, because he doesn’t want IV to feel like he has to beg for what he wants. He slides his hand up IV’s shirt and dips back down to kiss him again.
IV responds beautifully.
“You’re gonna knot me,” IV murmurs, half a question and half a statement, when they part.
II presses their bodies together, cradles himself between IV’s thighs, and rolls his hips against IV in response. IV throws his head back and moans as II grinds against him through the layers of their clothing.
“Anything you want,” II tells him.
He plants his free hand on the bed next to IV and rolls his hips against him again, jostling him up the bed as he does.
“Fuck,” III swears next to them.
IV flings his free hand out and it thumps III in the chest; III brings it up to his mouth similarly to II before and kisses his fingers.
“What do you want?” IV asks II.
II takes a moment to consider the question seriously, even as he grinds against IV. He wants a lot of things, he thinks, but what he says aloud is, “I want III to make you come.”
III groans off to the side, already palming himself through his pants. II spares him a look to check in, and it’s III’s turn to breathe out a please.
IV arches beneath him, and II returns his attention to him. He drops down on his elbow so he can cup the crown of IV’s head in his palm. He kisses him on the side of the head and murmurs, “I want III to open you up, and when you’re soft and ready, I want to give you my knot.”
IV moans lowly and nods frantically for a moment. II presses his nose against IV’s cheek and breathes there before he pulls back gently.
He doesn’t go far, hesitant to retreat out of IV’s space, and pushes IV’s shirt up with the hand still beneath it. He pauses to thumb at IV’s nipple and watches his reaction with heavy eyes.
He helps IV out of his shirt and pulls his off as well before turning to III. “Switch with me,” he says.
III takes his place between IV’s legs and leans down to kiss him. II watches the slick slide of their mouths, and the way III runs his hands up IV’s sides. IV loops his arms around III’s neck and presses his body up against III.
He likes the way they look pressed together.
III leaves a series of kisses down IV’s throat and IV cuts his gaze toward II, mouth opening around a moan.
Sweat beads at IV’s temples as III works his way down IV’s body. His fingers meet the waistband of IV’s joggers, and he hooks his fingers in them as he pulls them off IV’s legs.
III pauses to look down at IV on the bed beneath him.
“Don’t tease him,” II says, not sharply but with feeling.
“I’m not,” III says, eyes never leaving IV.
IV squirms under his gaze, and III gets his hands around his hips. He lays there between the spread of IV’s knees on the bed and rests his head against the cut of IV’s hip and stares up his body.
IV pushes up a little so he can look down at III, and III crooks a smile at him before he dips his fingers into IV’s body where he’s most slick.
“You’re so wet,” III murmurs.
He pulls his fingers from IV’s body, and his fingers are shiny with IV’s slick. He offers his fingers to II, who leans forward lick between them. IV looks helplessly between II and III, and then he flops back down to the bed with a groan.
III laughs as he takes back his fingers and presses them into IV’s body. He scissors his fingers and presses a kiss against his hip. IV rolls his hips as III rubs against a spot that makes him keen.
III grinds against the bed and then kisses the base of IV’s cock before he slicks his lips up the side and fits the head into his mouth. He rubs against the spot inside IV’s body with three fingers as he sinks down on his cock.
II presses a hand against himself. He catches IV’s glassy gaze and IV moans. He leans down and kisses him. IV moans into his mouth as II licks inside. It’s not at all long after that that IV comes, hips rolling between III’s mouth and hand as III works him through his orgasm.
III pulls off with a pop, and says, “He’s gonna make you feel so good, IV. You ready, sweetheart?”
IV flushes from his cheeks down to his chest. He starts to turn, to put himself in a familiar position, but II stops him with a hand on his side. He remembers what IV said before, that he didn’t want to be put on his stomach, and he doesn’t want to go back on his promise, even if IV is out of his mind with heat.
IV makes a confused sound in his throat and II directs III behind him, has him press up against IV’s back. III hooks his chin over IV’s shoulder and croons into his ear.
IV still doesn’t look like he understands why he’s laying on his side instead of presenting against the bed. II slips his pants off and slides against his front. He kisses IV then and grips his hand beneath IV’s thigh so he can hike it up against his hip. He slides his fingers inside IV, and finds that III was correct: here, IV is open and so, so slick inside.
IV breathes, open-mouthed, and II feels the hot puffs of air against his face. He trusts that III stretched IV out properly, but he can’t help scissoring his own fingers inside IV’s body, stretching him out more. IV whines against his cheek, and II soothes him with a kiss against the side of his face.
“Sweetheart,” II murmurs, trying to catch IV’s attention. “Sweetheart, you still want this?”
IV’s head lolls against his shoulders as he tries to follow II’s voice. He’s more out of it than II would like, but he manages to gather himself enough to slur out, “Yes.”
When he finally slides his dick inside of IV, it’s as easy as an exhalation. He stays still inside so IV can get used to the intrusion, but IV starts to roll his hips almost immediately. III reaches a hand around his waist to press his hand against IV’s lower stomach, and the sound that IV lets out is near obscene.
III mouths against IV’s throat, not hard enough to leave bruises, and II starts to move his hips.
His fingers indent the skin beneath his hand as he grips IV’s thigh. He smears his mouth against IV’s and IV reaches up to wrap his arms around II’s neck.
Their height is more similar to each other than to either Vessel or III, so II has the unique pleasure of sharing breath with IV as he fucks steadily into him.
IV’s fingers slide into the fine hairs at the nape of II’s neck, and little punched out noises fall from his mouth.
IV hooks his heel behind II’s knee to keep him close, and II responds by moving into a slow grind. He can feel his knot beginning to form at the base of his cock; he feels himself starting to catch against the clutch of IV’s warm body.
“Please,” IV moans as he feels it too. “Please, alph—” his voice hitches as III works his hand around his cock.
“II,” III reminds him as he starts to jerk him off.
“II,” IV corrects himself on a sob. “Please, II, please.”
II doesn’t mean to make him beg, but his knot fills slowly as he grinds into IV. After a moment, he comes inside IV, and his knot locks them together. He feels it when IV comes in response to the knotting and III’s hand squeezing on the upstroke.
II gathers IV up into his arms as soon as he realizes that IV is crying. “IV, what’s wrong?”
IV shakes his head but can’t stop crying long enough to tell II what he’s objecting to. III stays pressed up against IV’s back and rubs his hand up and down IV’s flank.
It takes a few minutes for IV to calm down between them, but when he does, the first thing out of his mouth is an apology.
“Are you okay?” II asks, ignoring the apology outright.
IV nods against his shoulder and tries to apologize again.
II hushes him and says, “You’re fine, sweetheart.”
III pulls back and sits on the bed cross-legged for a moment. He looks down at II and IV, something fond in his gaze. IV protests the movement, and III leans down to smack a kiss against the side of his head.
“I’m gonna get a washcloth,” he explains.
IV grumbles a little but lets III go. III’s only gone for a second, and then he’s wiping IV’s cum from between his stomach and II’s.
II’s stomach jumps a little, ticklish against the feeling, and he huffs a laugh against IV’s head.
IV pulls back a little, even though they’re still connected, and presses his fingertips against II’s jawline. He looks at II for a moment, and then he kisses the corner of II’s mouth.
“Thank you,” he says as he pulls back.
“What for?” II asks, brows furrowing.
“You remembered,” IV murmurs, more lucid than he’s been at any point since waking up into the throes of his heat. He gestures at their positioning, how they’re still on their sides, facing each other.
II’s mouth flattens into a sad sort of smile, and he hugs IV around the middle. IV tucks his head under II’s jaw and takes advantage of the lull in his heat to fall back asleep.
II looks across the bed at III helplessly. III has a sad sort of smile on his face too, but he doesn’t say anything as he slips back behind IV’s back and curls around him, hands reaching out toward II.
IV wakes up some indeterminate amount of time later wrapped up in III’s arms with heat licking up his spine. He whimpers as his stomach cramps. II must have slipped out of him at some point, because he feels empty inside. He opens his eyes to look for him, and finds him sitting down on the bed with a bottle of water in his hands. IV reaches out for him, and whines when II hands him the water instead.
“Drink that, please,” II says.
IV gulps down the water as quickly as he can and hands the bottle back to II.
II tosses the empty bottle in the trash and then lays back against the pillows. IV slips from III’s arms — he must still be asleep because he barely stirs — and decides to be brave and slip over to straddle II.
II’s hands steady him by the hips. “How are you feeling?”
IV considers the question, then shrugs and says, “Alright.”
II smiles up at him.
IV rocks back against II’s lap. He can feel II filling out beneath him and he wants all at once.
II squeezes his hips, but doesn’t make him stop rocking, so IV decides he can continue to be brave.
“Can we— like this?” IV asks, and he knows it’s not as assertive as III would like him to be, but it’s all he has at the moment.
II bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, baby, we can.”
IV braces himself against II’s chest and then leans down to kiss him — he thinks kissing might be his favorite thing. Neither II nor III ever deny him, and even Vessel will press a kiss against his cheek.
He pulls back and doesn’t miss the look in II’s eyes as he stares heavily up at him. His gaze makes him feel good, makes him feel wanted in a way that doesn’t feel weird or gross. He levers himself up on his knees, and II takes a hand off of his hip so he can steady his cock for IV to sink down onto.
“Slowly,” II murmurs, like he wants to savor the moment or like he doesn’t want to hurt him.
That makes IV feel a certain way, not that he wants to put a name to it. He sinks down slowly, like II requested, and pants when he feels II’s hips against his ass.
He circles his hips and isn’t so surprised when II pushes himself into a sit and wraps his arms around his back. That’s something else he’s noticed, that II likes to be close to him, likes to share the same air. He likes to be close enough to press dragging kisses to IV’s mouth.
IV can’t say that he minds.
It’s intimate in a way that IV isn’t used to. This entire heat has been so much different than anything he’s ever experienced, and he’s only a few hours into it.
IV braces his hands against IV’s shoulders and lifts himself up to start a steady roll against II, but it quickly devolves into both of them grinding against each other. It doesn’t feel like he has to perform during his heat, which is a welcome change — that he’s just allowed to feel and do what feels good is shocking in its own way. That II prioritizes his pleasure is similarly overwhelming.
II catches his mouth in a kiss and licks inside, and his mouth is a hot slide against IV’s. A heat lingers between them, something different that what licks up his spine, something that makes him want to break his chest apart.
“You want me to knot you again?” II asks, breath coming to him in short pants.
IV rolls his hips again, clenching down against II’s cock, and asks, “If I say no?”
II catches him as he sinks down and halts his movement. IV squirms against his arms but only manages to swirl his hips against II’s.
“Then I won’t,” II says easily. “You’re calling the shots here, IV.”
“Don’t stop,” IV breathes into the scant space between them. “Give me your knot.”
II does, and it feels like a revelation. IV grinds down against it until he can’t anymore, until he feels II release inside of him. He likes the expression on II’s face as he comes, how he looks up at IV like he’s something that he loves, like he’s something that could be loved.
II wraps a hand around his cock and thumbs underneath the head until IV can’t help but come, clutching him close inside and with his hands opening and closing around II’s shoulders.
When he comes back to himself, II still looks up at him with the same starry expression in his eyes.
They’ll be here together for a while yet, and IV moves his hand so he can press his fingertips underneath one of those bright eyes. II nuzzles up against his hand, and the action is so sweet that IV doesn’t know what to do with it.
He can’t stop the drip of tears that fall against II’s chest.
II brings his hands up to cradle IV’s face.
“I don’t understand,” IV says miserably. “It could have been like this the entire time?”
II presses a soft kiss against his mouth and tugs him into a gentle hug. IV squeezes his knees around II’s hips and leans into the hug.
He lets II cradle him here and mourns what he could have had.
Notes:
Look, I just can’t leave it on an angsty note can I???
Chapter Text
The rest of his heat passes similarly; he feels lush with the feeling of it, a sort of drunkenness to his body though he hasn’t had any alcohol, and he lulls between the crests of his heat, plied between sleep and eating when II encourages him to. He feels cradled here, between the concerned furrow of II’s brows and the heaviness of III’s stare.
He never feels trapped, even pressed between their bodies, already double the number of partners he’s ever had. His previous owner had been greedy — jealous — and unwilling to share IV with anyone else, a blessing in its own way.
II knots him as many times as IV asks for until they’re both exhausted. IV is unsure of the passage of time — has it been hours, or days, or weeks? He’s not sure that it matters.
He thinks his heat might be starting to break as his chest presses against III’s, their cocks gently rocking against each other.
This is another position that II seems fond of: III and IV on their sides, pressed belly to belly as he enters the warm clutch of IV’s body from behind. His gentle thrusts push IV into a steady rhythm against III.
IV’s head is cradled by III’s bicep. III cranes his head down so he can look IV deeply in the eyes, and he uses his hand to tilt IV’s jaw just so. He studies him for a moment, incongruously, and then breaks out into a soft smile. “You back with us, sweetheart?”
II’s hand on his thigh shifts as he pushes it up against III’s hip. IV tucks his heel behind III’s thigh and shudders between them. II reaches deeper inside him this way. IV moans, low and deep, when II presses right up against the spot that makes him shiver.
II leaves a series of soft kisses against IV’s exposed shoulder.
“You good to keep going, IV?” he asks.
His mind starts to clear, but IV knows he never wants this to stop. He can feel the weight of III’s cock sliding against his own heavy cock; he feels II’s cock deep inside, the way his hips keep a solid beat even as he’s fucking him.
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, and then III feeds him his fingers until his mouth is full and fucks him with them to the same steady metronome as II.
IV licks around his fingers as best he can, sucks around the distinct shape of III’s knuckles bumping against his hard palate and tries not to whine when III pulls his hand free so he can wrap his wet fingers around both of their cocks.
IV’s not surprised that he comes first, shooting against III’s abdomen. III follows soon after, and then II buries his face against IV’s shoulder and comes to the scent of two satisfied omegas.
IV shifts slightly, testing the give of his body around II’s knot, and II hisses lightly and then begs, “Please don’t move.”
III laughs at II as IV settles back against him.
“Think that’s the last time,” IV murmurs into the space between his face and III’s.
“Yeah?” III asks.
One of II’s tattooed arms settles around IV’s waist, and he likes the weight of it. II drags his nose against IV’s shoulder.
“You sure?” he asks. “You still smell like… but you’re definitely the most lucid you’ve been.”
IV rocks his head in affirmation against III’s arm. He feels satisfied in a way he’s never felt at the end of a heat before. He wouldn’t mind if II fucked him without knotting him a couple more times, but the biological imperative to be knotted finally quiets down.
“Last knot, at least,” he clarifies, then he blushes from the tops of his cheeks to his shoulders.
III’s eyes brighten as he notices. He croons down at IV, “Look at you, sweet thing. You want to keep him close, huh? You wanna let him roll you in the sheets a couple more times, make sure your scent really sticks?”
Christ, III’s dirty talk really is something else, but IV can’t protest what he’s saying. He does want that, is the thing.
II’s hand lands low on his belly and his hips just barely kick against him, like he likes what III is saying too, like he wants IV’s scent to stick around his room too.
There’s a kind of safety here, one IV’s not sure he’s ever experienced before.
His previous alpha would have the sheets laundered as soon as IV’s heat concluded, would burn sickly sweet vanilla candles to wipe away any trace of IV’s scent in his house. He liked the status symbol of having an omega, and didn’t care about taking care of an omega in any way that mattered.
In III, IV can see the evidence of an omega treated well. He looks happy and healthy, has a personality and opinions, and has two alphas who dote on him in their own ways. He has possessions, things that he owns, and hobbies that he likes to do. He doesn’t kneel around their house like a piece of furniture or art.
He takes up space, IV realizes, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Maybe, maybe, IV generalizes, he’s allowed to take up space too. Maybe they want him to take up space in their rooms, in their home, in their lives.
“Whoa,” III says, speaking for all of them as they hear the sound of Sleep chittering outside the room.
Sleep has done its best to stay away during IV’s heat, to keep out of the way during this delicate time, to stay wrapped around Vessel and not interfere. They can all feel the visceral excitement from Sleep, though maybe only IV knows the reason.
II eases his way out of IV’s body slowly, petting his flank as he goes. “You think it would be okay to let Vessel come in now?”
Uncertainty sits heavy in IV’s stomach, but none of them have led him astray so far.
“He’ll be good,” III says, nearly reading IV’s mind. Then quieter, like he’s sharing a secret, “When you and II are done, he’ll take care of you. He loves that part. They both do.”
When he nods in assent, III kisses him. He presses into it, and III cradles his jaw in his hands like he knows he’s asking IV to continue to be brave.
The first thing Vessel does upon entering the room is to scent the air. IV watches him, but all Vessel does is smile, eyes crinkling at the corners at whatever he picks up on.
He picks his way across the room carefully, leaving Sleep out in the hallway to do whatever it is gods do when not curled around their followers’ shoulders.
II cranes his neck up in a familiar way as soon as Vessel enters their orbit, and Vessel kisses him immediately.
IV begins to relax.
III sits up on the bed, cross-legged, and grins crookedly back at Vessel.
“You guys done?” Vessel asks quietly.
“Mostly,” III answers.
He leans forward across IV’s body, so Vessel can kiss him too.
IV tries not to feel a sting of rejection that Vessel doesn’t kiss him and then has to remind himself that they haven’t done that yet. Vessel is respecting his boundaries, even now when it would be so easy to cross them.
II must notice the expression on IV’s face, because he swoops down to kiss him. IV’s tense body uncurls as II pulls back, follows him until IV lays back on the pillows instead of on his side, and then II busses kisses against his cheeks and face.
Vessel makes a wordless sound, almost a croon, as he watches them.
“How about,” Vessel says when II pulls back, “you guys go take a shower and I’ll tidy up here.”
IV makes an involuntary noise, half desperate, at the thought of him changing the sheets and erasing the scent of him in II’s bedroom.
III’s nearly on top of him before IV can even process that he’s moved. He plants on hand on the bed beside IV’s head and leans into his space, and IV stills underneath him like prey.
He’s not scared of III, precisely, but the fierceness is his gaze startles him.
“III,” II says sharply.
Seems like neither alpha is quite as quick on the uptake as III seems to be.
III’s gaze softens, and he nudges his nose against the side of IV’s head and nuzzles him firmly. IV’s head tips back with the motion, and III presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
III flicks his gaze toward II briefly and then says, like he’s reading IV’s mind again, “He’s gonna pile the dirty sheets in the hamper and put clean sheets on the bed. When we’re done taking the quickest shower of our lives, because it’s been two and a half days and we’re a little gross, II’s gonna tumble you back down on the bed and make you moan again.”
“It’s been two and a half days?” IV repeats back, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, darling, it’s been two and a half days,” III confirms.
“Oh,” IV says, and he lets III pulls him off the bed and into II’s arms.
He’s never had a heat last that long.
They’re under the spray of the hot water when II asks if he’s okay.
“I’ve never had a heat last longer than fifteen hours,” he murmurs.
III presses up against his back and tucks his chin over IV’s shoulder, even as he has to hunch a little to do it. “You said you never had a chance to have a normal preheat,” he says.
“What’s that got to do with it?” IV asks.
“So, a preheat’s your body’s chance to store energy and get you ready for your upcoming heat. You got to have a normal preheat this time, so your heat was longer. You feel safe, so your body’s accommodating that. Tilt your head back.”
IV tilts his head back so III can scrub shampoo through his hair and rinse it out. He thinks about what III’s saying, and he doesn’t have any information or knowledge to dispute it.
II scrubs him down with his body wash, and then does the same to III. He tucks IV against his side and then motions for III to lean down so he can wash III’s hair. III endures it with little complaint about the angle of his back but stands back up to rinse his own hair out.
“Can we cut my hair later?” III asks.
“Of course,” II says, as he eyes III’s fading red fringe. “You want a new color too?”
III hems under the spray a little bit and then says, “Maybe. Let me think about it.”
II scrubs himself down with far less attention to detail than he did for III and IV and washes his hair quickly before herding the pair of them out of the shower and into fluffy towels.
When they return to the bedroom, Vessel’s gotten rid of the dirty dishes and changed the bedclothes. He hasn’t removed the dirty sheets from the room — they sit in the hamper like III said they would be — and the air still smells rich with their combined scents.
IV, relieved, smiles at Vessel gratefully. Vessel crooks back a smile of his own.
III sheds his towel nearly immediately and bullies Vessel onto the far side of the bed. Vessel goes with minimal fuss, laughing softly as III arranges him how he sees fit. He ends up with a lap full of III.
II catches IV by the towel wrapped around him and says, “We can be done if you want.”
IV shakes his head.
He’s not sure how to explain to II that he still feels the remnants of his heat licking up his spine, that he still wants II to press him into the mattress. He still craves the closeness, the intimacy of it. He wants the whole experience; he wants what III was promising.
The expression on II’s face softens when he looks at IV. He reaches up to cup IV’s face in his hand. IV leans into his touch.
“You’re so sweet, you know that?” II murmurs seriously.
IV feels himself blush again. II’s mouth grows into a smile.
He tugs the towel from around IV’s body and tips him back onto the bed. IV lands gently and II follows him down.
IV’s head rolls against the pillows and III catches his gaze. He tips his head back a little farther and Vessel’s expression is caught somewhere between fond and besotted. II takes advantage of the exposed curve of his neck and presses a series of kisses there.
“How do you want it?” II asks. “You want to get on top again?”
III makes an interested noise. He’d been asleep the only time that IV rode II.
IV considers it for a moment and then nods. He does want that, and then he wants II to fuck him like this. He wants to end his heat with II looking at him like he’s looking at him right now. He shares the gist of that with II, who kisses him in response.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” II agrees.
They switch positions on the bed, with II laying back against the pillows. IV straddles him, more aware of the eyes on him this time. It feels familiar, which gives him a level of confidence, but he still feels shy with III awake and Vessel present in the room.
II slips his fingers inside IV, to make sure he’s still wet inside and loose enough, and IV rocks his hips against the sensation. His hands land on II’s chest and his eyes fall shut.
Predictably — because IV can anticipate II’s next moves now — II pushes up to a sit and palms IV’s ass with his free hand. His nose nudges up against IV’s nose, and IV leans into the kiss.
II is sweet too, IV thinks. They all are, really. He can never lose this, can never go back to what he had before. He promises to himself, as II eases his way inside his body, that he’s going to do everything he can to keep this.
He arches his back as he settles on II’s lap. Now that there’s not an imperative to knot, he knows that II is doing this because he wants to, not because he has to. That idea takes root in his stomach and grows tendrils around his bones. He can feel flowers blooming around his rib cage.
He opens his eyes and looks at II, at an alpha who lets himself be put in this position and thinks that he could love him if given the chance.
II’s eyes are blown as he looks back at him. His arms slide around his waist as he keeps IV close, lets him rock against him rather than bounce, and IV slides his arms around his neck. His cock slides against the cut of II’s stomach.
“Fuck,” III says off to the side. “Ves, Ves.”
IV slides his gaze to the side and sees that Vessel has his hand wrapped around III’s cock and he’s watching them with a heavy eyes. IV moans lowly and drops his head against II’s shoulder.
One of II’s hands runs up his back and buries itself in IV’s damp hair. “You okay?”
IV nods roughly against his skin.
“Kiss me,” II asks, and IV can’t help but listen to him. He comes between them as II licks into his mouth.
“There you go,” II whispers into his mouth. “That’s it, sweetheart.”
Their scent soaks the room. That’s what II notices first when he wakes up. He lays there and basks in it for a moment before he cracks his eyes open. IV sleeps tucked up under his chin, softly snoring, and II doesn’t know if he’s ever heard a better sound.
III lays on his back on IV’s other side, idly tapping on his phone, but he cuts his eyes over to II as he wakes up. II feels Vessel on his other side, his big hand wrapped around II’s side. All of his people, right where he wants them to be.
“How’re you doing, III?” II quietly murmurs.
III gives him a lazy thumbs up.
III made it out of IV’s heat with the most amount of sleep out of any of them. He looks tired around the eyes, but he’s alert in this moment.
Vessel rubs his nose against the nape of II’s neck. “How are you doing?”
II takes stock of his body. He’s sore, certainly, especially his hips and shoulders. He feels like he could sleep for another three days. He’s hungry, too. Vessel kept them fed with a steady stock of easy to eat foods during IV’s heat, but he wants something substantial soon.
“Alright,” he replies. “Tired.”
He stretches as best he can with IV still knocked out against his chest. He runs his hand down IV’s bare back, and then asks for another blanket.
Vessel kisses the back of his neck and then gets up so he can retrieve one for him from the hall closet.
IV rouses a little as Vessel leaves the room, almost like he can tell that someone’s left. II shushes him gently, but he can tell that he’s waking up. IV scrunches his nose and yawns as his eyes slowly blink open. II presses a kiss to his brow.
“Hello, sweetheart,” II says. “It’s — actually, III, what time is it?”
“5:45,” III says. “We should order takeout for dinner.”
“We can do that,” II agrees. It sounds better than cooking, at any rate.
IV rubs the sleep out of his eyes as Vessel comes back into the bedroom. Vessel fluffs the blanket over II and IV, and then he sits on the bed next to II.
“How’re you feeling?” Vessel asks IV.
IV blinks at him a couple more times and then he says, “Good.”
He stretches, back arching into a sharp curve, and II lets him roll out of his arms. He watches as IV tucks his forehead against III’s upper arm. III lets his phone fall with a thump onto the bed so he can roll over and get a big hand on the back of IV’s head He scratches his fingers through IV’s hair for a moment.
They spend a few minutes pumping out happy omega pheromones at each other, and II can’t help but bask in the sensation of it. Vessel finds his hand and clasps it in his.
When II peers up at Vessel, he finds him smiling warmly back at him.
IV’s jaw cracks around a yawn, and III laughs at him. Before IV can say anything, his stomach rumbles.
“Right,” II says. “III, you order us dinner, please.”
II moves toward the edge of the bed, and IV’s eyes go a little wild at the edges as he does. He reaches out toward II and whines under his breath.
II reaches back to tangle their fingers and he says, “Bathroom, and then I gotta check on some work stuff.”
IV tugs on his hand to keep him in the bed. II drags his hand up to press a kiss against his knuckles, and then says, “Snuggle with Vessel while I’m gone.”
IV frowns at him, but lets him go. Vessel slides closer on the bed, and II watches as IV melts against his side.
II hits the bathroom first, and when he walks back through his bedroom, III’s furiously tapping through his phone, ostensibly to order food. IV’s already asleep again, mouth slightly open against Vessel’s chest. II smiles as he hunts for a pair of joggers, and then he exits the room.
Sleep slips around his shoulders for a moment before it slides away toward the open door of his bedroom. It feels distinctly pleased with him, which is always nice to feel from their deity.
He makes his way down to the library. He opens his laptop and takes a moment to check his email, sending brief replies to a few messages that need it. Luckily, it seems like nothing needs his immediate attention. He’s grateful that he has a job where he has the flexibility to take off for his and his partners’ cycles.
While he does think that they made it out of IV’s heat relatively unscathed, there were a couple moments that set off alarms for II — like when IV became distressed at Vessel’s attempts to clean up the room as his heat was winding down. Another thing that set off red flags for him was how out of it IV was during the entire thing. He’s not sure if that’s a result of IV’s training or if it’s because IV is used to dissociating during his heats, or even if it’s something else entirely. Either way, it’s concerning, and II wonders if that’s something that they can work on. If it’s dissociation, he feels like they have a better chance of helping him out of it.
He needs to check on III, as well. III’s good at keeping his feelings under wraps, even to his detriment. He knows that III would rather bite his own tongue off than let IV know that his heat affected him negatively, but there’s a good chance that it has.
He also needs to make sure to spend time with Vessel one on one. He leans back in his chair just a little and thinks about taking him on a date. That could be fun, and III and IV could have some time together too. He hates that they wouldn’t necessarily be able to go out on their own, but he could arrange some sort of fun thing for them to do at home.
He realizes with a start that he’s already assuming that IV wants to be part of their relationship. He tips his face into his hand. Shit, they haven’t even asked. This whole situation is so fucking complicated, and when he thinks about it, he realizes that if IV decides that he doesn’t, there are going to be at least three broken hearts.
It’s not even fair to ask him, II thinks, but he can’t help but think about it. He can’t help but consider what a relationship including IV would look like. He finds that he wants it desperately.
His phone buzzes. It’s a text from III, letting him know that their food is on the way. He shuts his laptop, knowing there’s no way he can get any work done right now.
Right, food first. They made it through IV’s heat, and he has a laundry list of things he needs to take care of.
He makes his way back to his bedroom, to the three people waiting for him. He leaves his worries at the door.
Notes:
Don’t @ me about the chapter count lmao, I know. We got a couple more chapters in this fic yet. :’)
Chapter Text
III picks his way around the shop aisles carefully. The fluorescent lights flicker and buzz above him.
II is with the buggy a couple rows back, but III is on the hunt for the brand of tea he likes best and a sleeve of biscuits that he thinks IV will like. He finds the last box of tea all the way to the back of a tall shelf and grabs it, then he searches for the pack of chocolate-covered biscuits. He finds them after a moment in a weird spot and grabs two of them. He justifies the two packages on the chance that IV will like them, and if he doesn’t, he knows Ves will eat them.
He retraces his steps back through the aisles until he hears the squeaky wheel of the cart II grabbed and starts to dump his items into the cart without looking; however, as he looks up, he realizes that the cart belongs to someone else.
“Whoops, shit, sorry,” III says, fumbling with his items so he doesn’t drop them.
The man stares at him balefully and moves his cart away.
III smells something weird and wrinkles his nose. He apologizes again and then sees II turn their cart into the aisle and III hustles in his direction. He drops their items in their cart and hooks a finger onto its side.
II eyes him for a second. “Everything okay?”
III nods quickly and then looks over his shoulder at the man whose cart he almost invaded as they pass. The man watches him back for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly, before he continues shopping.
Weird.
III hangs onto the cart like a kid would for a little bit longer, and he asks, “What else do we need to get?”
II hums under his breath and consults the list. “We need more cheese—” he says and lists off a few more items. “I thought we could stop by the bakery next door after this and pick up some treats before we go home.”
III slants his gaze over to II and grins. “You just want to spoil IV.”
II huffs a laugh and shrugs. He counters, “What, and you don’t?”
III swings his free arm as they round into the next aisle and his smile turns into something softer. “No, he deserves it,” he replies. “Just think it’s cute, is all.”
“You’re cute,” II murmurs to him as he grabs a couple of packages of sliced cheese from the refrigerated case.
III aims a pleased smile at him over his shoulder, eyes fond.
They finish their shopping quickly now that they have a plan in mind, and they drop their groceries in the boot of the car before making a quick detour across the lot to the bakery. II slips his arm around III’s arm very casually, and III slouches a little bit so he can lean against II’s side.
Neither II nor III usually want sweets, but it’s nice to have a reason to go into the cute bakery. Aside from Vessel’s birthday, they barely come here. It smells just as good on the inside as it looks on the outside, and it’s always a joy to come inside.
The cashier looks over as they enter and waves in welcome, even as she helps another customer. The bakery is fairly busy even in the early afternoon, but there still seems to be some good things left in the display cases.
The cashier calls into the back and another worker joins her in helping customers.
III pulls away from II to peer into the cases. They each pick out a few things that they think IV and Vessel will like, as well as some savory options that they can have for breakfast – II laughs as III eyes a croissant that looks to have garlic and herb cheese folded within its layers and asks the worker for four of them as well. III beams a smile at II in response.
They end up leaving with a bigger bag than expected, and II laughs again even as he taps his card to pay for the items. He thanks the cashier as he takes the bag from the counter and motions III to exit the building.
III walks backward out of the shop and purrs, “You like me.”
“Of course I do,” II says back, before his face creases in concern as III runs into someone.
“Oh, shit,” III says, “my bad.”
He turns around to find the same guy from the grocery store.
The man’s lip curls, and he snarls at II, “Keep that unmated omega bitch on a leash.”
III laughs incredulously. “Unmated? Are you fucking kidding me?”
A dark look crosses II’s face as the man shoves III. II snatches III by the arm and pulls him back behind him.
“III, you okay?” II asks tensely, pushing the bag into his arms.
“Fine,” III barks, bouncing slightly in place. Nervous energy wriggles through his frame.
“Hey, asshole,” II says, “what’s your problem?”
The man drops his own bags, and he rolls his shoulders. III can’t believe that this is happening right now. The guy’s got a full head over II, and he looms like he’s got something to prove.
He catches a scent on the light breeze, and it’s the scent that makes him freeze.
“II,” III warns.
“Shouldn’t be letting that omega do whatever he wants,” the man – the alpha, III realizes – sneers.
“I wasn’t aware it was any of your business,” II states, an edge in his tone. “Keep your goddamn hands to yourself.”
The alpha scoffs at him, and then he throws a punch, catching II square in the jaw.
“What the fuck,” III screeches.
II spits blood into the grit of the pavement, and hauls back and punches the guy in the gut.
The cashier from the bakery slams open the door and yells, “Hey, we called the police! Cut it out, asshole!”
She cuts her gaze to III, eyes worried, and asks, “Are you guys okay?”
III nods at her absently, but keeps his eyes on II, who prowls in front of III as the alpha folds over on himself, gasping for air.
“II, stop,” III snarls. “Police are coming.”
He grabs the back of II’s shirt before he can advance on the other alpha again and tugs him back, pumping out calming pheromones.
II lets himself be pulled back, and he gets up in III’s space to check that he’s okay. III lets him, running his own hands down II’s sides.
“I think he’s in rut,” III whispers to II, which makes II tense up further.
Luckily, the sounds of sirens distract both II and the other alpha. The man decides to make a run for it. III doesn’t worry about it; the shops have CCTV, and it looks like the women from the bakery watched the whole thing go down.
II ends up filing a report with the police, standing with his fists balled at his sides as he relates the incident to them, and his eyes never stray from III.
An alpha in rut in public – that’s not as uncommon as it should be, but the fact that he put his hands on an omega is less common. III knows that it’s not so much the fact that the alpha put his hands on him as it is that the alpha put his hands on someone that didn’t belong to him. II’s protected from getting in trouble simply because he was acting in self-defense and defending his property.
It's just another reminder that the entire system sucks.
III sits on the edge of the sidewalk with their paper bag from the bakery and waits for him to be done talking to the officers. One of the women from the bakery brings him a bottle of water, and he accepts it gratefully.
She relates to him that they’ve had problems with the alpha before, and that they also plan on filing a report against him, which— it doesn’t make him feel better, necessarily, but it does make him glad that something is being done.
She apologizes, even as III waves off her apology. It’s not their fault.
Honestly, he just wants to go home. He wants to go home to a place that doesn’t reinforce that he’s property, and not a person.
When he’s done talking to the officer, II helps leverage him up from the sidewalk. He leans in once III stands up and pulls him closer so he can drag his face along III’s cheek before herding him to the car.
II lets III hustle him into the house as soon as II throws the car into park. III hovers around him as II unloads the groceries, putting the items in their places with more force than necessary. III busies himself getting an ice pack from the freezer and bullies his way into II’s space as soon as the last cabinet door slams shut.
II breathes heavily even as III presses the ice pack against his jaw.
“You need to calm down,” III says seriously. “It’s done, and it doesn’t matter.”
II’s eyebrows shoot up his face. He growls out, “What do you mean ‘it doesn’t matter’?”
“I don’t care what some asshole alpha says,” III insists. “I’m okay.”
He can’t believe he let that asshole get close enough to push III; his anger simmers in his blood. He barely managed to keep a hold of himself while he talked to the police. The car ride home only solidified the feeling.
“You have to calm down,” III repeats. “You’re going to freak IV out.”
That shakes II out of his anger a little bit. He can still feel it boiling, but he takes a deep breath.
“Okay,” II exhales. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Vessel thunders up the stairs. “What’s going on? What happened?”
III swears under his breath. “Where’s IV?”
Vessel takes them in – III holding an ice pack against II’s face, II simmering with anger – and then he says carefully, “In the sunroom, I think.”
“We ran into an alpha in rut at the grocery store,” III explains. ”He was an asshole, but everything’s okay.”
“He, fucking—” II swears—“shoved III, said some nasty things.”
III shushes him and pumps out pheromones. The feeling of home, of how much III loves him and that III’s alright, calm the roiling anger that threatens to consume him. III’s right – of course he’s right – that II needs to calm down. He’s not sure what’s tripped him up so badly in this situation; they’ve had other run ins with other dumbasses before this, and it’s never gotten him so worked up like this.
Of course, no one’s actually ever put their hands on III before.
Vessel draws nearer and hums under his breath. One of his big hands curls around the back of II’s neck and he turns II so he can look at the shiner on his cheek. “He got you good,” he murmurs. “Shouldn’t have done that.”
II bristles a little until he realizes that Vessel is talking about the other alpha.
Vessel leans in so he can nuzzle up against II’s temple, and then he says, “You both should go get cleaned up. I don’t like knowing that he touched you.”
II nods heavily against Vessel and reaches for III’s hand so he can pull him up the stairs and to the shower. When he turns toward the stairs, he realizes that IV stands at the threshold of the hallway, tense in the face of II’s strong emotions.
II’s body loses its fight, and he slumps a little where he stands.
IV hasn’t seen any of them angry yet. He’s been with them long enough that he’s seen each of them annoyed, sure, but he hasn’t seen any of them truly angered. That thought alone is enough to push II out of his poor mood, and he breathes carefully as he reins in all of his anger back in. He’s not so far gone that he doesn’t realize how his it might affect IV.
IV tracks him carefully, cataloguing II’s posture and the bruise on his cheek, and he remains in the hallway.
Wearily, II says, “Everyone’s okay.” The excitement from the afternoon crashes down on him all at once. “We’re both okay, and you’re okay.”
“We had a little run-in at the shops,” III murmurs carefully, “but it’s taken care of.”
IV’s eyes dart to III, and II sees him cataloguing III similarly, though there’s no physical evidence that anything happened to him on his body – thank Sleep.
“What happened?” IV asks sedately.
II hates how quiet he sounds, how hesitantly he asks the questions, just as much as he hates how III seems content to brush the incident under the rug.
He starts to explain – III interjecting as necessary – and he watches as IV cocks his head as their story concludes.
“Are you okay?” IV asks when II finishes speaking.
II nods.
IV doesn’t come any closer, so III tugs II toward the stairs and says, “We’re gonna go clean up, okay?”
IV nods a little absently, but II has to trust that Vessel will take care of him in the meantime. When he looks over his shoulder halfway up the stairs, Vessel is looking at IV with a tender expression on his face.
III pushes him toward his bedroom, and then toward the bathroom. II’s room still hasn’t stopped smelling of all four of them, primarily because they keep falling asleep together here. The scent soothes the part of him that feels particularly wild, and he takes a moment to just breath through his feelings.
III starts to undress II, and it takes II a second to start undressing III as well. III doesn’t seem to mind too much; he shuffles into the shower after II.
II leans into the spray of warm water and tries to let it wash away everything that he’s feeling.
III drapes his long body against II’s back and squeezes him around the middle.
“Thanks,” he quietly says, almost lost under the sound of the water against the tile.
II turns in his grip and kisses III soundly. III leans into it for a long time, then pulls back so he can start washing II’s torso. His eyes alight on the darkening bruise on II’s jaw, and he presses his mouth there softly once.
“Come on,” Vessel murmurs, gesturing IV toward the kitchen.
He starts the kettle as IV lists toward the room, sticking closer to the walls than he’s done lately.
Vessel busies himself with making tea, and he peruses through the cabinets until he finds a fresh pack of biscuits. He puts a few on a plate and then ferries the mugs to the table as IV tentatively sits down.
“Will you tell me what’s going on in your head?” Vessel asks.
IV wraps his hands around his mug and slants his gaze toward the floor. He doesn’t speak for a few minutes, but Vessel doesn’t rush him.
“I didn’t leave the house a lot,” IV says. He reaches his hand up to fit around his throat. “And when he did take me out, I was always collared.”
Vessel listens patiently as IV works through what he wants to say. Collaring is kind of antiquated, but he understands how it could be some sort of status marker for someone with more money than sense or goodwill.
“He would have never…” IV trails off. His eyes dart from his cup to Vessel and then back down. “If another alpha had said something to me or even anything about me that wasn’t positive, he would have taken it out on me later.”
Vessel’s chest clenches.
“I was lucky enough that he never shard me with anyone,” IV equivocates. “He was too greedy for that. I guess I was also lucky that he never mated me.”
Vessel wants to reach out and comfort him, but he gets the sense that IV needs to work through this before he tries.
“I think, like, among the types of people he surrounded himself with, it was more impressive to have an unmated omega under their control than tying an omega to them by mating.”
IV looks away at that. Vessel can tell he’s grateful not to be mated to his former owner, but that the knowledge still tangles inside him.
“If what happened to II and III had happened before—” IV stops, fingers stuttering around his cup. He pauses and takes a sip, seemingly steeling himself against the thought. “It wouldn’t have just been a slight against me, it would have been a slight against him. The punishment would have been really bad.”
Vessel gives into his need to comfort IV here. IV leans into his hands where Vessel cups them around his jaw. Vessel presses his mouth against his temple. When he pulls back, IV links their fingers together.
“I know I keep saying it, but you and II are so different than any other alpha I’ve ever been around.” His fingers flex against Vessel’s. “I keep waiting for the bottom to fall out.”
Vessel lets out a soft noise. He doesn’t want IV to keep flinching at shadows, but he understands that IV has an entire lifetime’s worth of trauma to work through. He’d like to be able to help him with it, if IV would allow him to.
He knows well enough himself that you never really get through trauma, but it gets smaller and smaller in the rearview, and the good things in life overwhelm the bad. He would like to outweigh the bad things that IV has experienced. He knows II and III feel the same.
IV continues before Vessel can say anything, not that there’s really anything he can say to assuage IV’s fears.
“Anytime I’ve thought that one of you were mad, it’s always turned out that you were mad that something happened to me. You were mad for me. I’ve never had anyone care about me like that.”
Vessel’s heart hurts.
“Can I give you a hug?” Vessel asks.
IV nods quickly, and Vessel slides from his chair to his knees and wraps IV up in his arms. He tips his head against IV’s and IV hugs him back, hard. IV wraps his whole body around Vessel, like he wants to keep Vessel as close as possible, and Vessel feels IV’s knees press into his sides. He feels IV’s fingers tangle in the back of his shirt.
Sleep slides from around Vessel’s shoulders to hover around IV’s shoulders. IV’s shoulders shake against him, and Vessel realizes all at once that IV is crying against his shoulder.
“I promise you,” Vessel murmurs, “that even if we’re mad, we’re never going to take it out on you. There’s nothing you can do that would make us take it out on you. There are no punishments. We want you here. We want you to feel safe. We want you to be happy.”
“I don’t understand,” IV gets out around a sob. “Why?”
Vessel rubs his hand up and down IV’s back. He looks up when he hears footsteps coming down the stairs and sees II standing hesitantly at the bottom.
He pulls back just a little so he can thumb the tears from beneath IV’s eyes. He busses a kiss against IV’s cheek and then asks, “II’s here. Can he come over?”
IV scrubs his hand under his eyes and nods. As soon as II’s within touching distance, IV reaches out and buries his face in II’s stomach. II pets his hands carefully against the back of IV’s head.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” II apologizes.
IV shakes his head against II’s stomach.
Not for the first time, Vessel wishes he knew what was going on in IV’s head.
II continues petting through the hair at the back of IV’s head until IV pulls back.
IV peers up II’s body to look at him. “You didn’t scare me,” he says carefully. “You don’t scare me.”
II cups his jaw in a hand and examines him for any untruths. “Still,” he says. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“I can’t ask you not to feel your feelings,” IV says. “That’s not fair. I have to trust that what you say is true. That you don’t want to—that you won’t hurt me.”
Vessel watches as II’s expression breaks open. II leans down and presses a kiss to IV’s forehead.
“You’re a wonder,” II says softly. “I’m so glad Sleep brought you to us.”
“Yeah,” IV agrees. “Me too.”
Notes:
hi hello, please enjoy, come talk to me in the comments or on tumblr
Chapter Text
Vessel rubs his face against the pillowcase underneath his head and blinks his eyes open. The sun barely peeks into the window, the light greying with an overcast of clouds.
He’s the only one left in II’s bed.
Vessel glances over at the digital clock and frowns.
II being absent this early in the morning isn’t out of the norm. He likes to hole up in the library and finish his work tasks before anyone else is awake.
Both omegas missing, though — that’s unusual.
Vessel sits on the edge of the bed for a moment and looks around the room sleepily. He pats the bed beside him, and he finds the sheets cold.
He shrugs on a shirt and searches upstairs for III and IV, but there’s no sign of either of them in the other rooms.
When given the option, III likes to laze in the bed until the sun dapples across the bed. He likes to roll and stretch in the sunbeams like a cat. He’s finally gotten IV to stay late in bed with him too, anchoring him under the sheets with his long arms later and later into the morning.
Vessel pads down the stairs and spots them sitting on the sofa together. They sit facing each other, almost hugging, legs crisscrossing over-under each other’s thighs. IV’s chin presses against III’s shoulder. His fingers tangle in the back of III’s sleep-wrinkled shirt.
IV spots Vessel first, by virtue of facing the stairs, and his eyebrows furrowing are the only sign that alerts Vessel that something is wrong.
Though he can’t see III’s face, he does trace his eyes up the straight line of his back. He notices the way that III has slung his arm around IV, how alert he seems even though he can’t see Vessel.
IV nuzzles into the space between III’s neck and shoulder, eyes pinning Vessel to the bottom of the stairs.
Vessel rounds the couch so he can get eyes on III.
As soon as III catches sight of him from the corner of his eye, he snarls, lip curling as he pulls IV closer to him.
Vessel backs off.
He’s never seen this behavior from III, but they’ve also never had another omega in the house with them before.
Sleep shivers around Vessel’s shoulders, just a bit, and clears the air.
The night that IV arrived, Sleep had imparted the pertinent information about him to everyone, and similarly, it had done so on the night that they received III into their home.
The images Sleep shared with Vessel and II were jarring: III working in a brothel, being roughed up by both johns and his pimp, the botched surgery that led Sleep to III.
The rest of what happened to III, they’d had to learn from him, and Vessel knows that there are some things that III’d kept to himself despite how his feelings had eventually grown for the two alphas.
Vessel doesn’t begrudge him any of it; he knows II certainly doesn’t.
Sleep imparts a new image to Vessel now, of omegas curled up together in a filthy room — likely the one they shared in the brothel from which III came to them. Sleep implies the stress in the room, the stink of frightened omegas, how those with more fight in them protected the ones without.
Vessel’s heart breaks a little for III when he realizes.
III’s been under a lot of stress lately, from the altercation with the alpha in rut at the shops last night to IV’s heat and his heat before to even the night IV arrived at their house.
They hadn’t known that the pressure III’s under would stir up these old instincts in the presence of another omega, that the stress would translate into this long-buried coping mechanism. That’s no one’s fault, but Vessel’s heart hurts for him all the same.
IV seems to be handling the entire situation remarkably well. He clings back to III, scents him carefully, and pumps out pheromones indicating that he feels safe.
This floors Vessel too, because outside of his heat and the first few days where the soured scent of a scared omega saturated their home, IV has kept a pretty tight lid on his own scent. Neither II nor Vessel have been able to comfortably rely on scenting to know how IV feels.
III eases his arms tighter around IV as he curls around him like he needs to protect IV from the alpha in the room.
Vessel takes no offense. He backs up farther into the kitchen in response.
III’s mouth softens as the distance between them grows.
IV croons something in his ear, too low for Vessel to make out any discernible syllables.
Once Vessel is firmly in the kitchen and outside of whatever perimeter III has established as safe in his mind, III loosens his hold on IV.
IV leans back so that III can scrub their cheeks together.
IV continues to murmur softly to III, and Vessel texts II to see whether he had noticed anything off with either III or IV when he woke up this morning.
He thinks probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to let II know that III feels out of sorts.
Vessel bets that neither of them has eaten. III avoids cooking with a fervor that borderlines on neurotic, and IV still haunts the kitchen like he’s not allowed to be there alone.
He sets about pulling together breakfast for them: boiling a pot of water for porridge and chopping fresh strawberries into bite-sized pieces.
He keeps one eye on the pair like an afterthought, leaving them alone to work out whatever’s going on.
II texts him back after a few minutes, and it’s like Vessel thought — the pair had been asleep when he left the bed, and III rolled into II’s warm space on the bed to curl up with IV as he left to work.
When the porridge is ready, he portions it out into bowls and scoops some strawberries into each bowl. He sprinkles them both with brown sugar and brings two bowls into the living room.
III stiffens again as Vessel enters the living room. IV rubs his hand firmly up the line of III’s spine.
“I made breakfast for you two,” Vessel says carefully.
IV leans back in the cage of III’s arms and looks over his shoulder at Vessel. His expression softens, the previous traces of worry wiped away.
Vessel sets the bowls and spoons on the coffee table and backs up a few feet again.
IV slides his hands up to cradle III’s jaw in his hands, and he presses his mouth to the underside of his chin, close to his throat.
Vessel knows the gesture doesn’t mean the same thing as it does when done to another omega instead of an alpha.
When an omega presses their mouth to the underside of an alpha’s jaw, it indicates submission. This means something different, but Vessel’s not exactly sure what.
III seems to blink back into his body after a minute. He slides a hand into the hair at the back of IV’s head and pulls him into an actual hug, his knees pressing into IV’s sides.
“Are you back with me?” IV asks gently.
IV drapes his arms over III’s shoulders as III nods tightly.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” III murmurs into his hairline.
IV shakes his head lightly. “You don’t have to apologize,” he says. “Look, Vessel made breakfast.”
III blinks again and realizes that Vessel hangs back in the room and frowns, his free hand reaching out to him.
Vessel doesn’t hesitate to cross the room to him, and he lets III pull him to sit behind IV on the couch. Vessel holds his hand and drops a kiss against the back of it.
“I’m sorry,” III says to him.
Vessel mirrors IV’s response and says, “You’re fine, III.”
III starts to untangle himself from IV and he reaches out to pass a bowl of porridge to IV. IV catches him to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth.
III stills and watches IV for a moment before pulling his own bowl to his chest.
IV leans back against the line of Vessel’s side and tucks his toes under III’s thigh. They eat quietly and Vessel stretches his arm out against the back of the couch.
II joins them in the living room after he finishes his work.
He takes in the scene before him, honoring the silence they still share, and then he crouches down so he can get his hand around the line of III’s jaw.
“You wanna cut your hair today?”
III nods a little desperately against his hand and he says a little sullenly, “And dye it?”
“‘Course,” II agrees. “Whatever you want.”
III looks like he might cry if someone says the wrong thing, which is an expression Vessel hates to see on his face.
Vessel thinks maybe Sleep also gave II the same information it gave him, because II jostles III by the jaw gently and asks, “Are you keeping IV safe?”
III nods a little helplessly in II’s grip. II slides his gaze to IV briefly before focusing back on III.
He dips his head to catch III’s sliding gaze and says, “Thank you.”
III stares back at him, like he’s assessing II’s sincerity, and then scrabbles off the couch to hug II. II meets him halfway, staggering under his long limbs but not falling, and hugs him back.
Vessel loves them so much.
He curls his arm around IV and feels something settle in his chest as IV presses into his hold.
III disappears with II to take care of his hair, so IV follows Vessel down to the studio after stopping to drop their dishes into the sink.
He’s been down here with Vessel a handful of times more since his initial visit with II. He likes to sit on the piano bench next to Vessel and watch his fingers smoothly dance along the keys.
Vessel smiles at him over his shoulder. IV tentatively crooks a smile back.
Vessel’s current project — something he’s expounded on to IV at lengths before — is to score a video game that Vessel tells him is high fantasy, whatever that means. He’s told IV that it’s full of adventure and elves, like they’ve read about before. IV doesn’t really get it, but he likes hearing Vessel talk about the work he does. The way that he animates when he talks about music makes IV feel settled in a way that he can’t explain.
III’s really good at keeping a lid on his feelings, IV thinks. He’s good at sharing the positive emotions, at making IV think that there’s nothing wrong even when clearly, clearly there is.
Vessel sits at the piano and plucks out a few keys to warm up. Usually, IV would sit beside him on the bench and watch him work out the song, but he hangs back today.
In the training center, omegas were kept away from each other. He’s never really had an opportunity to comfort another omega. He thinks that III’s had to do it more than he should have had to in situations much more dire than IV waking up from a nightmare.
IV feels flighty, unmoored. He haunts the edges of the room as Vessel composes.
Whatever song he works on now is atmospheric, tinged with something that feels longing, like he’s yearning for something.
IV can commiserate with the feeling.
The song is beautiful because everything Vessel composes is beautiful.
IV completes a circuit around the room as Vessel stops and starts, writing down notes in a chicken scratch that IV wouldn’t be able to decipher even if he could read it.
IV starts another lap around the studio and finds himself lingering near the guitars on the wall.
He distantly hears the music fade away as he peers up at the body of the light blue guitar. He startles when Vessel reaches past him to take it off its mount.
IV didn’t even hear him get up.
Vessel cradles the guitar in his hands carefully and looks at IV appraisingly. He settles the strap over IV’s head so he can rest it on IV’s shoulder, and IV recognizes that the instrument is heavier than he thought it would be.
“II said—“ Vessel stops speaking and stares at IV for a long moment. He rounds IV so he can rest his chin on his shoulder where the strap sits.
IV stands very still.
Vessel’s arms wrap around his body, but they rest on the guitar. The fingers of his left hand press at different points on the strings on the neck of the guitar, and he strums against the strings at its body with his right hand.
The guitar isn’t plugged into anything, but IV still feels its reverberations as Vessel works his way through the notes of a song he knows well.
IV closes his eyes and imagines a world where he was allowed to grow up with this, where he was allowed to pick up an instrument as a child and learn how to play it, where he was allowed to go to school and have friends and learn to read instead of learning how to please an alpha.
IV leans back against the hollow of Vessel’s chest and lets him carry this weight too. He tries to breathe in a steady metronome, solid like II has taught him, so he doesn’t cry instead.
In another world, maybe he gets to. Maybe he meets II and III and Vessel in some other universe and the weight of his past doesn’t hang over him like a guillotine.
Vessel curls his body around IV’s; he stops strumming and runs the fingers of his hand down IV’s left arm so he can fit his fingers against the strings. IV lets him rearrange his body around the instrument, lets him decide the pressure IV needs to press against the strings, and when Vessel strums next, it feels like the song isn’t only coming from the guitar but also out of IV’s chest.
After a few minutes, Vessel carefully takes the guitar from around IV’s shoulders and leans it against the wall.
IV turns to face Vessel, but he’s afraid of the expression his own face makes, that it will scare Vessel off to see the heartbreak smeared there.
Vessel lifts his hands to frame IV’s face, and he turns IV’s head softly from side to side to study his expression.
IV’s hands come to rest on Vessel’s shoulders, and he leverages himself to his tiptoes so he can press a kiss against Vessel’s mouth.
Vessel’s thumb sweeps up and down his cheek, and he leans down so IV doesn’t have to crane his neck so much to reach him.
Vessel kisses him back gently, and the little bubble of doubt that remained trapped in IV’s chest dissipates.
Of course, Vessel would kiss him back. Of course, he would.
Vessel breaks the kiss, but he immediately follows it with a press of his mouth against IV’s temple, the kind that always feels like he’s making a promise to IV, even if IV doesn’t know what he’s promising. To—to protect him, maybe, or to love him, even if IV isn’t sure why he would promise that.
Vessel’s arms shift to hug IV, and IV curls into the embrace easily.
He can feel the soft puffs of Vessel’s breath against his temple.
“What did II say?” IV prompts softly.
Vessel laughs and squeezes IV just a little tighter, but it doesn’t feel constricting. It feels comfortable; it feels safe. It feels similar to how III had cradled him this morning.
After a moment, Vessel murmurs, “He said you might be interested in learning to play.”
IV isn’t used to this feeling — he isn’t used to wanting things for himself and feeling like he might get them. There’s a lot of things that he’s wanted in his life, that he had to resign himself to never receiving. Here, tucked into the cradle of Vessel’s arms, he feels like it might be okay to give a name to the things he wants.
He has a suspicion that Vessel — and II and III — would do anything they could to give him the things he wants.
IV screws up his courage and lets himself want.
He wets his lips and agrees, there in the safe space next to Vessel’s jaw, “Yeah, I think I do—want that, I mean.”
He can’t see the expression on Vessel’s face, but he feels how Vessel adjusts his arms to pull him closer, and he feels how Vessel rocks them gently side to side, following the rhythm of a song only he can hear.
“Anything you want,” Vessel murmurs quietly into his hair. “Anything you want is yours.”
IV continues to be brave and lets himself start to believe it.
Everyone meets up in the sunroom later in the afternoon. The sky has cleared, so the sun shines brightly in the room.
III scrubs his hand over his newly bleached hair from the back of his fresh undercut to his shorter bangs.
He looks bashful, even as IV presses against his side so he can reach up and slide his hand against the back of III’s head.
II likes the soft smiles on both of their faces.
IV looks over to Vessel and II, and his smile brightens.
“You look good,” Vessel says to III, but II wonders if he means IV too.
Vessel watches the pair similarly to how II watches them. II leans against his side and luxuriates in the feeling as Vessel wraps his arm around him.
III grabs IV’s hand and catches IV’s attention by saying, “Hey.”
IV’s expression clears as he focuses in on III. III smiles down at him.
“Hey,” III continues, “hey, be our boyfriend.”
IV inhales sharply. The sound catches both alphas’ attention.
This isn’t how II planned on asking IV, but he can’t help but think that maybe it’s actually the perfect way to ask him.
IV grips III’s bicep and searches his face for any traces of dishonesty. He glances back at Vessel and II, and II feels Vessel nodding in agreement.
II hides his smile and his flushed cheeks against Vessel’s arm.
III boxes IV back with his body until he herds him against the strong line of Vessel’s chest. IV tangles his fingers into the fabric against Vessel’s sternum.
II reaches out and links his fingers with IV’s.
“You’re serious,” IV says, eyes darting between the three of them.
“Yes,” Vessel answers firmly.
II’s smile grows as he peeks out from his hiding spot against Vessel’s arm.
III drapes himself against IV’s back.
“Please,” he says.
II feels like he needs to clarify, “Only if you want to. Nothing changes if you don’t.”
“No, I—” IV starts. “I do. I do want that.”
III grins triumphantly over IV’s shoulder.
“Are you sure,” IV asks hesitantly, “are you sure that’s what you want?”
II won’t stand for that, won’t stand for the doubt that wraps itself around IV’s limbs, so he steps closer to IV and reaches for his face.
“Yeah,” he says, repeating III’s request. “Be our boyfriend.”
“Okay,” IV agrees, whispering the word as II holds his face so gently. “You really want to keep me?”
II wants him for as long as IV allows. He wants to keep IV until IV is able to exchange the word keep for love, and then he wants to love him for as long as IV lets him after that.
“Of course, we do,” II says. “I can’t think of anything we’d like more.”
IV nods tightly into II’s hands and says, “I want that too.”
Notes:
What’s upppp. here’s a new chapter! Tell me what you think. :))
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Turmoil on Chapter 1 Sun 03 Nov 2024 04:40AM UTC
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