Sex pollen, a/b/o dynamics. Alpha Soap, Alpha Alejandro, Beta Rudy, Omega Ghost. SoapGhost, AleRudy, AleGhost, SoapRudy, AleRudySoapGhost. Lemon.
(Longer fic will be coming for this prompt, I really enjoyed writing it<3)
There’s blood smeared across Alejandro’s teeth — his own, his lower lip swollen and split, torn open a few seconds prior — and he catches himself against the table, shoving it backwards with the force of his impact. Stupid fucking officials and their stupid half-brained decisions, may they rot—
A flush of heat rolls through him, the beginnings of his rut drawn on four months too soon, overwhelming the bitter chemical tang of the suppressants he takes to regulate his cycle. Alejandro tears at his sleeves, the thin fabric clinging to his sweat-soaked skin before it rips, and lets the tatters drop free. Across the room from him, Ghost prowls, his mask partially shoved up his face and caught in the snarl of his teeth. What little Alejandro can see of his skin is flushed, pale scars standing out in stark relief around his lips, a smear of blood over the corner of his mouth.
They hadn’t even been exposed fully, the canister deploying at Soap’s feet first as the gas billowed out. Not a standard chemical weapon but something experimental so when they had staggered back to base with Rudy tucked beneath Soap’s arm to keep the man upright, Beta pheromones the only thing keeping him awake and moving, and Alejandro with Ghost’s teeth locked into his shoulder tight enough that he scraped against bone, they were bundled into rooms as they stood.
Separated.
It would make sense on paper, Alpha with a Beta and an Alpha with an Omega and it’s that alone that’s keeping Alejandro upright, keeping him furious. Should have least been able to buy the other set of men a drink first before broaching the idea Rudy had whispered into his ear after their first meeting; the pair folded into the closest supply cupboard and Alejandro’s hands tucked down Rudy’s trousers.
His Rudy always has the best plans.
“Was going to—“ Alejandro breaks off as Ghost growls, a distant rumbling like the passing of a train several floors down. The other man hasn’t moved from the opposite wall since they’d been deposited into this holding room, Soap and Rudy kept away by one single barrier. He continues, the tang of iron heavy over his tongue. “Was going to ask you both properly, maybe over a few drinks, but we want to fuck you. Both of you.”
Ghost straightens, the movement nearly imperceptible in the gathered shadows next to the wall. “Soap was— He was going to ask you.” He slowly slides down the wall, hands bunched into tight fists on his thighs. “He’s better at that sort of thing.”
“My Rudy as well.” Alejandro steps forward, chances another when Ghost doesn’t snarl at him for the intrusion. A third step brings him in front of the other man, in reach of his still-bared teeth, a low growl tumbling from Ghost’s throat. “We chose well, yes, Ghost?”
Alejandro bites at his knuckles, his bones beginning to ache from the oncoming wave of want that is burning through his belly, a desperate scramble to remain upright and not wrap his hands around his cock and squeeze until he’s spilling the first of many releases onto the floor. Ghost isn’t faring much better, his hips swaying, grinding himself against the caught seam of his trousers. There’s a sweet scent in the air, something that reminds Alejandro of the little sachets of tea Soap carries with him, vaguely citrus and sharp.
Ghost chews his lower lip, his fangs indenting the skin. Hesitation is clear in the line of his shoulders, the tight grip on the fabric of his trousers.
“You can fuck me,” Alejandro offers, splaying his hands wide. “I don’t mind.”
There’s a gleam in Ghost’s blown-wide eyes, his pupils dark and blotting out the thin strip of brown around them, curiosity merging with a fierce desire. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Alejandro crouches and leans backwards, reclining onto the cold floor.
Ghost moves quickly, one hand planted on Alejandro’s chest and pushing him flat to the ground while he braces himself with the other as Alejandro wraps his legs around Ghost’s hips, tugging him closer.
“Talk later,” Alejandro murmurs, tipping his head back to expose his throat, the mating scar over the scent gland on his throat. “We’ll talk later.”
A growl tears free from Ghost and he bites Alejandro once more, an action Alejandro knows to be an agreement.
