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Ghost can tell something was supposed to happen tonight. They had a mission where everything went right and even the things that went wrong somehow turned out to be good. And it was all thanks to Gaz and Soap, throwing themselves into the fray, thinking quicker than Price could call out the command, readjusting without a beat of hesitation and if Ghost was any better with words, he'd have told them he's proud of them.
Alas, he sists in the back next to Gaz, who's grinning from ear to ear and tapping Price's hat whenever he wants attention. Which is almost every two minutes, blabbering on about something or other he deems to see through the tinted windows of the humvee.
Next to Price, in the passenger seat, Soap sits with his legs spread, a dusty boot resting on the dashboard, a hand gripping the back of his headrest, snapping his fingers in front of Ghost's face whenever his head tilts forward, waking him back up.
"We should go to the pub," Gaz trills, the happy chemicals of the beta spreading across the backseat like oil, thick and clammy and sticky on his gloves.
"Ain't no pub open at this time, mate," Price taps the digital clock on top of the rearview mirror. It reads 3:15 am.
Ghost wants to sleep.
"I have whiskey," Soap chimes in, he's grabbed the top of his hardshell mask, keeping him tilted forward, nails scraping against the plastic. Ghost can't say he cares enough to break the hold.
"I have beer," Price adds in, the traitor.
A scent drips steadily into Ghost's senses, making his head feel stuffy and his heckles feel calm.
"Tch, Ghost, get your scent under control, mate," Gaz nudges Ghost's knee, knocking his entire body around with how relaxed he suddenly is, Soap loosening his grip on Ghost's mask immediately so he can right himself.
"Ain't my fault, somethin' smells amazing." He murmurs, embarrassed, rubbing around his patches to encourage his scent glands to shut up. Its not usual for him to lose his scent like that.
"That's the smell of victory, my boy," Soap proclaims, his hand somehow back on Ghost's body, palming his knee through the crack between the door and seat. Ghost hates how little he minds.
"Or your scent patches are losing potency," Gaz remarks.
"Impossible," Price again, the man's chatty tonight, "Soap doesn't wear any."
"Oy!" Soap grunts, pushing Price's shoulder and swerving the whole vehicle in turn, "That wasn't supposed to be common knowledge!"
Gaz lets out a short, surprised yip, pushing himself in between the two front seats to stare at Soap.
His hand is suddenly gone from Ghost's knee.
He's glad nobody can see him pout.
"What do you mean, you don't wear any! I've never smelled you on anything before!" Gaz's voice is so loud in Ghost's ear. He wants to sleep.
"This is your fault, John!" Soap spits, turning to the window, not another word leaving his lips.
"He's allergic," Price explains. Ghost's head sags onto the backrest again.
"And he's got his scent on lockdown anyway, so it was decided by medical that, instead of forcing him to try suppressants with increasingly concerning side effects, he'd be allowed to freeroam."
"No way. No Omega can keep their scent masked this well," Gaz grabs Soap's arm, presumably inspecting his scent gland. Ghost hears a short scuffle, then Price's sharp growl.
"I can't believe it, you're actually goin' raw!"
"Say it louder, so the entire Platoon can hear," there's a warning in Soap's voice. Ghost doesn't think when he reaches up and rests a hand on Soap's shoulder.
"You gotta show us your scent, mate,"
"No way."
"Why not? Can't be worse than Price's nasty tang."
"Easy now, soldier."
"Thats not what that's about!" Soap doesn't sound angry anymore.
"Then what is it about?"
"None of you could handle it."
"Oh, sure we can!" Gaz rasps.
"Tch, if you say so."
"I do. So show us."
"No."
Gaz wants to respond something else, but Price cuts him off with a short bark. Clearly, this conversation has been going on for long enough.
As for Ghost? He slips off into a restless slumber until they reach the base and thinks nothing more of it.
---
At last, a free day comes, and with that, the 141 sits down in a private room at the local club, Ghost pulling his mask down in the sealed off space.
They were enjoying a nice selection of drinks and the low rumble of music outside. Price picked the location, some former gentlemen's club that still holds true to the tradition of golden light and satin wallpaper and the music choice reflecting that.
Ghost watches Soap's fingers dance across the leather upholstery as if he knows every note.
Gaz is smoking a cigar with Price, the window is opened a crack and theyre all in their true casuals, jeans for Ghost and Price, dress pants for Gaz, and studded black for Soap, who's wearing that fancy collar of his with the seethrough plastic inlays so one can catch a glimpse of his mating glands, paired with a fishnet longsleeve and a band T-Shirt, looking like he'd be sugar to devour.
Not that Ghost is thinking about it.
He's following the conversation instead.
It's about.... something for sure.
It's a bit difficult to concentrate, mostly because Ghost is still running on the 5 hours of sleep he got two nights ago.
He looks at Price and Gaz, who're evidently in an avid discussion with Soap. If only Ghost could concentrate on the words, now.
Then he notices something. Its very quick, a small movement, barely anything at all, but Gaz ruts himself against the seat, before moving on with the conversation with his legs folded.
Huh.
Well, if he must.
He looks at Price, who smiles at him with those baby blue eyes and not a care in the world, before putting him directly on the spot, "What about you, Simon?"
He lets out an undignified, "Huh?" Before scrambling into an upright position in his seat again.
"They asked what your ideal vacation is."
"O-oh," Ghost isn't used to being so flustered. Somehow his neck feels hot.
"I guess, having a rut partner would be quite nice."
Shit, shit, shit, they asked about vacation, not rutleave! God, he needs to get his head on straight. He picks up his drink and downs it in one.
"Guess that makes sense." Gaz says, "Nobody has time for a proper rut when its just rut leave, anyway."
"Never had that problem before," Price grins, spreading his legs wide.
Christ, he's being bold.
"Is that so, Cap?" Soap snickers, "that why you always gone for an extra two days? Need that time to recover in your old age?"
Price growls, puffing out his chest, "The omegas I share my heat with need an extra day of aftercare when I'm done with them."
"Omegas?" Gaz perks up, "You don't rutshare with alphas or betas?"
Price shakes his head.
Heat creeps down Ghost's shoulders, embarrassment tinging the sweet tang of the air around him. He's never had a rut partner. Too shy about... well everything.
"I like being with other betas most. There's usually less misunderstandings," Gaz muses, picking up his glass, some cocktail that originally belonged to Soap. Maybe that's what smells so sweet.
"Yeah?" Soap chirps, "Why do you think so?"
Gaz rubs his neck, somewhat distracted, glancing at the chandelier hanging high above, "They just get it, you know? Alphas just think Betas are omegas without the heat and Omegas mostly just wish you were actually an Alpha. It gets exhausting. Betas dont ask you to slick up or pop a knot, they just ask you if you feel like bottoming or not."
"And do you?" Price rumbles, stealing back the cigar hanging from Gaz's hand, smoke curling around his head like little devil horns.
"Do I what?" Gaz asks. He's leaning deep into Price's space, made easy as they share a couch, laser focused on Price's eyes.
"Bottom." He says dryly.
Gaz gasps. It sounds almost heated.
"Don't put poor Gaz on the spot like that," Soap chides, a smirk hidden behind his glass. Ghost narrows his eyes. What game is he playing?
"He's who started it," the Captain proclaims, flashing a bit of teeth, the friendly rumble in his chest placating.
"Is this kindergarten?" Ghost snaps, annoyed by the conversation, annoyed by the heat it sends down his spine, the uncomfortable want he can't get rid of always pulsing up hard during conversations like these, fraying his nerves, "Don't matter who started it, so long as we swiftly move on."
"Naww," Gaz chirps, leaning over Price's lap to be closer to Ghost, "are you shy, L.T.?"
The alcohol must be getting to him, Gaz's eyes are blown wide. Heat burns in them, threatening to burst out and engulf Ghost whole, but Gaz prefers Betas and Ghost would never presume.
"Not shy," he grumbles, "Just..." but he can't find a reason. Why shouldn't they talk about this? It should feel good, that they're so open. He can pretend he isn't a massive virgin and get to talk about what it means to actually have sex. Or something, he isn't sure.
He just wants to... hear them talk about their experiences. If they're so open, why shouldn't he take the opportunity?
"Man, how much did ya drink?" Gaz snickers, holding himself up on Price's thigh, who's hand rests in the small of his back.
"Not enough to not throttle you if you make fun," Ghost huffs, leaning back. He feels flushed, takes a glass of water and downs it in one, but it doesn't help. He still feels hot, good, hungry.
"Christ alive," Price throws his head back, "I need to get fucked. It's been too long,"
"Yeah?" Soap asks, "How long?"
"At least three months."
"Is your rut coming up soon, then?" Ghost asks, shifting in his seat, drinking more water.
"Why?" Price cocks a brow, "You want to join me for it?"
Ghost flushes red, "That's not-.. Captain I would never-"
Laughing, Price manhandles Gaz onto his lap proper. Gaz flops over with a yelp, belly up, staring at Price incredulously. Price doesn't even look at him, starts rubbing circles into Gaz's chest, filled, no doubt, with his scent.
Gaz goes limp under it. Slumps into the leather like a sack of flour, and Ghost wonders once again, how Price can just do that, so very easily.
"I know you wouldn't. But maybe you should," says Price, a glint of something in his eye that Ghost should catch onto, but can't. Not really.
"Woah, I think I need to wean you lads," the bottles on the table clink when Soap grabs the whiskey, grinning near diabolically as he watches Gaz writhe, pushing his chest into Price's touch.
Another wave of sweetness hits Ghost right in the chest and he's lightheaded, can't quite grasp anything but Price pushing down on Gaz's throat, the deep bass of his moan reverberating in Ghost's skull like a siren song. Gaz grips Price's arm, but instead of pulling it away, he pushes further down, arches his back until his happy trail peaks out from under his shirt, exposing plains of soft skin, ready to be marked. Mouth hanging open, inviting, ready, perfect.
Price groans, sweet and heady, before shaking his head sharply and ripping his hand away from Gaz's body and fixing Soap with a furious glare: "Soap, you fucking bastard!"
Ghost blinks at Soap owlishly, who grins wide and knowing.
"What, Cap? Angry you got drunk too fast?"
Price pushes Gaz back into a sitting position next to him, patting his head when Gaz looks at him in confusion, hurt swimming in his eyes.
"Put your scent back!" The bottles shake when Price jumps up, knocking against the table on the way to Soap's armchair, jostling him hard by the collar.
Soap doesn't seem perturbed - though Ghost's gone rigid from the sudden change in mood - places his hands in Price's neck and rubs them up and down and Ghost can watch in real time as Price's resolve crumbles, arms shaking and going slack before he slowly, slowly, drops to his knees, head falling into Soap's lap in defeated compliance.
"What the hell did you do to him?" Ghost gasps, feeling the petulant heat in his own core rise at the sight of Price's exposed neck.
Soap strokes over Price's back, eliciting deep, contented purrs from his chest.
"Gaz wanted to see what happens if I let go of my scent." His eyes flick over to Gaz, who's doing a poor job of concealing the bulge in his pants, "Are you satisfied?"
Gaz moans in surprise and omega inebriation, unable to form proper sentences, hiding the effects of Soap's scent under one of the plush cushions while eyeing Price -who seems completely gone- longingly.
Now that Ghost knows, he can pick out Soap's scent more clearly. The sweetness that brings this potent note of need, clouds his brain like nothing else and makes him want to devour any warm body in his vicinity, is still cloying and overwhelming, no longer a figment of his inebriated mind, but a tangiable thing, but there's more to Soap's scent than that. A woody, almost dry note, perfectly blending into the background, a hint of rich fire tickling at Ghost's senses, perfect, just like Johnny.
"Are-..." Gaz manages to stammer out, "Are you close to your heat? There's no way. No way you just walk around... Christ, look at Price. How..."
Another comforted rumble passes through Price's whole being when Soap lets his hands travel down his spine and back up to his hair, Price's own arousal no match for any scent patch, thick and cloying as the very essence of alpha in his burnt umber scent tries to drown out Soap's own. But can't hope to compete, not with the way Soap is just so all encompassing.
"I have a medical condition, makes me particularly potent and almost no blockers or patches work, or I just react badly to them. Control was one of the very first things I learned," With his words, he turns Price around, sprawls him out to Ghost and Gaz' gaze, knees spread, head resting in between Soap's thighs on the worn leather, a hand wrapped around Soap's ankle, like he's desperate for purchase, eyes closed and chest heaving, "My scent can confuse enemies and send alphas into rut when I really lay it on thick, so its an asset in emergency situations. But usually, I just use it when somebody won't stop pestering me about it."
Baby blue eyes fly open, roll around in Price's head as he tries to find Soap in the haze of his own desire, whispering a weak "Fix it," into the heated air between them, one hand already attempting to pull his pants down, thick cock twitching against the seam of his jeans, tight and no doubt uncomfortable.
"Shhh," Soap cooes, leaning down to tease at Price's nipples over his shirt. Blood rushes from Ghost's heated face all the way down south at the sight of Price arching up into the touch, throat dry.
Then, all of a sudden, Soap stands up and opens the window, taking his scent with him, leaving the lot of them to shake their heads and try to gather themselves back into a semblance of order.
Soap doesn't have to keep the window open for long. A minute, tops, and the room is back to smelling like pleasant cedar and old leather.
Ghost can't imagine anything more repulsive.
"Was that enough demonstration for you, Gaz?" He snickers on the way back to Price, who still stares into nothing as if he hasn't yet realised he's been freed from the spell.
Sunk low into the sofa, Gaz wipes a hand across his face, shame and desire warring in his gaze. For a drawn out second, he looks to Ghost, then he says, "No. That was insane, mate. Be serious, you've got to be close to your heat."
Pouting, Soap slumps down again, placing his leg back into Price's mindless hold, "I'm serious mate, I don't really have a heat. Pop a knot in me right now and you can knock me up. I'm practically nature's most available baby factory!"
A deep, rumbling growl fills the air, vibrating through Ghost's body long before he realises its his own, possessive need threatening to spill into taking drastic actions. He may be closer to his own rut than he realised.
Soap stares at him wide eyed, "You okay there, big boy?"
"We gotta get him out of here," Price mutters, voice almost sultry in his delirium, "His alpha genes are almost as overpowering to him as your scent."
"But, Cap, I didn't go that hard, it should only really work on people who-.."
"Who already want you, yeah Soap. We all got that." Price snaps, gathering himself off the floor to wobble over to Ghost, checking his pupils, his breathing, his accelerated heartbeat.
Ghost didn't realise how far gone he already was.
"I'm sorry," Soap mumbles. He looks worried.
Ghost can't have that.
He pushes Price out of his way and goes to him, rubbing his face along Soap's, chest rumbling comfortingly, pleased when Soap rubs along the scent glands on his neck.
Somebody's talking, but he's once again not listening, enjoying Soap's touch, how his scent bleeds from his clothes when they're this close, how nice it feels for his dick to brush against Soap's hip when the omega moves. Any inclination of embarrassment has left him. All that matters is Johnny and his hips under Ghost's hands.
He snarls angrily when Price has the gall to put his hands on him, snaps the air next to him, but to no avail.
"You want to breed him, is that it?" His Captain whispers into his ear, triggering a full body shiver at the mere mention of that heavenly word.
Yes. He wants to breed Johnny, his Johnny, wants to breed him full of pups and make both their halves into a full whole, hold him close and never let him go again, keep him full and happy and-
"Shiit, he's gone for you." Gaz's voice drags Ghost out of his daydreams, the presence of the Beta suddenly as grating as the unfamiliar surroundings.
"You're one to talk," Soap hisses, "I pulled back my scent ages ago and you're still hard as a rock. You're coming to my nest, all of you."
Nest?
Yes, that's where he'll go. Soap's nest sounds like heaven.
He doesn't hear Price's immediate hiss of complaint, nor Gaz's incredulous huff, mind pleasantly fuzzy while he trots after Soap, pulling on his mask when they exit the room. Somebody pays the tab, Ghost doesn't care who, and then the cold night air rushes around his ears.
The pack is moving around him, back towards the barracks, towards Soap's nest.
--
When Soap unlocks his door, Ghost almost rips Price's arm off for daring to enter the room at all, but Price is still his Captain, and when he honest to god barks at Ghost, he slowly backs off, keeping a close eye on Gaz who follows Price inside, before entering himself at Johnny's beckoning.
It's a standard omega room, a mattress on the floor, a desk and a dresser.
It smells heavenly.
"You can lie down," Soap says, a smile in his voice.
Ghost plops down without a second thought, rolling himself in the soft bedding, unperturbed when Gaz comes to join him. There's no thoughts to be had in this ambrosiac wonder.
Only when Price burrows into the nest and Johnny still isn't with them does Ghost understand what Soap really said.
All of them, would be joining Soap.
That is what the omega had decreed.
"Shut up, Simon." Price grunts, letting Ghost know he's been growling again, before he's unceremoniously putting him into a headlock, sprawled onto his back and presented to Soap like a piece of meat.
Ghost fights long enough he almost misses the hungry way Johnny looks at him, the want in his features. He goes still and watches with bated breath as Soap strips off his shirt, lets his heavy pants fall to the ground, revealing his glistening thighs, slick slowly working its way through the dark hairs on his legs, ready and wanting, the same way Ghost is. Price gives an appreciative huff, echoed by Gaz, the scent of Johnny's arousal filling his brain with images of their coupling. Knowing those images could soon be put into reality makes him salivate, teeth throbbing with need.
Gaz beats him to the punch of touching Soap, scrambling towards him, suckling and licking at the inside of his thigh, oblivious to Ghost's angry snarl at having been kicked in the shin by Gaz's efforts.
He grabs Gaz's foot, pulls him back and bites at his ankle. Gaz' response is immediate, Ghost tries to hold on to Price's shoulder for purchase when Gaz tackles him back into the nest, but fails miserably, slipping into soft covers, Gaz's heavy weight on top of him, nipping at his ear, ready to go for the throat. Ghost pins him in a flash, head swivelling to see if he's caught Soap's approval.
But the omega isn't even looking. Price has his whole attention, the Captain kissing up his legs and nuzzling into Johnny's perfect tummy, hand brushing across the growing length in Soap's boxers, so close to his core Ghost wants to bite his hand off.
Gaz uses his inattention to throw him off and climb back into Soap's space, bold as ever when he pushes himself between Price and Soap. He doesn't anticipate Price's reluctance to give up his spot, or the way he is immediately bitten into his shoulder.
"Wait your turn," he snaps, teeth bloody.
Ghost gets a... thought.
He draws close, captivated by Price's stormy expression, takes in the confused lift of the Alpha's eyebrows, the small 'Are you okay,' in the movement of his burly body.
Slowly, Ghost leans in, lets his tongue drag across Price's bottom lip. The heavy tang of copper floods Ghost's senses, and he chokes on his own moan, eyes blown wide as he draws back and stares at Price, who looks equally shocked, before he grabs Ghost by the shoulders and presses their lips together with a desperation that catches Ghost off guard, a surprised huff escaping in between Price's kisses.
Ghost isn't sure if he can keep up, slides further and further back until his shoulders sink into the covers, and suddenly everything feels oppressive and wrong and he can't figure out how to make it not that anymore and-
"Hey, John... Let him breathe," like sweet honey, Soap's voice drips into his ears, he opens his eyes to see Soap wrapped around Price's back, smiling down at Ghost, "Look at him, he's not running away from you. Come here, Simon, it's okay."
Ghost follows his lead, allowing his chest to take in oxygen again before he presses a soft kiss to the edge of Price's mouth. The reaction is instantaneous, Price slumps in on himself, all authority offered up to Ghost, as if he's never even wanted it in the first place.
It feels hot, so fucking hot, to be kissing Price while Soap is so close Ghost can feel his body heat, knows he's watching them.
"I-I want you," Ghost whispers, to whom, he isn't sure. Right now it would apply to all of them, as long as something happens soon, as long as someone touches him as sweetly as Soap's scent smells and as insistent as Gaz's blood tastes in his mouth.
Price gasps, hot and wet, pulling at Ghost's shirt until he lifts his arms, ridding him of his jeans faster than he can blink.
Usually, he'd feel exposed, but like this, the eyes of his most trusted on him, all he feels is wanted.
Price's breath tickles on his abdomen as he peppers his middle with short, teasing kisses, the meat of his pecs dragging over Ghost's clothed cock, driving him insane.
"Stop torturing him, Cap, he's practically begging to be fucked," Gaz's voice rings in his ear, his hand grounding on Ghost's shoulder, his stubble dragging over Ghost's skull and it feels good to have him so close.
The words barely register, Ghost is too busy shoving his hips up so Price can pull of his underpants, accompanied by Soap's hearty chuckle.
Ghost expects Soap to straddle him, to give him what his heart desires most and he's ready for it, so ready his cock has been leaking steadily, can almost taste Soap's slick on his tongue from how his presence permeates the room and is completely blindsided when it is Price who, instead of backing off, kisses higher, higher, higher, until he's chest to chest with Ghost, smiling down at him sweetly, "You okay with this?" He asks.
Ghost hums, mouth dry, looks to Soap, for permission? For approval? He's unsure, just elated, near giddy, when Soap smiles and nods.
His hands trail over Price's strong thighs, appreciating the swell of his muscles, the strength like hot coils, hidden beneath soft skin.
He needs.
Needs more than he can articulate, but Price just seems to know, or maybe they're all working together, Ghost can't do anything but lie there and grope at him and think nothing, then somebody is taking his cock and steering it into tight heat and his back arches so hard it pops.
"I'm here, Simon, I'm here." Price whispers, kissing up his cheek, sinking lower and lower, opening up for Ghost like an angel, enveloping him in the heat of his core until he's fully seated, trembling on Ghost's lap, adjusting to the girth of alpha cock stuffed into his hole.
With a flush of new arousal, Ghost realises they must have used Soap's slick to open Price up, the relaxing properties aiding the slide as well as making Ghost's cock more sensitive.
It doesn't stop him from uncoordinatedly fucking into Price, moaning his name, gripping his thighs like his life depends on it while Gaz kisses over his shoulders, whispering encouragements as if they're all aware of how inexperienced he is.
Suddenly, there's the omega's cock in his face, base nestled into wet folds that'll lead to heaven, but Soap doesn't seem inclined to grant him entry. Instead, he bobs his pretty cock in the direction of Ghost's mouth, "D'ya want to make me feel good?" He says, and who's Ghost to deny that request? He opens his mouth wide, tongue falling out, overwhelmed by the scent of him so close, but oh so ready to comply.
He's never sucked an omega's cock before, he doesn't reckon he's very good at it, but Soap moans like he's doing something right and by the heavens, he is eager, licking and sucking with the rhythm Soap sets, enjoying the sweet tang of his precum, getting high off of the pleasure, all thoughts rendered mute, taking Soap's cock as far down his throat as it will go, until his nose bumps against his folds and he cums, deep inside Price's core, with a shuddering moan.
Soap pulls out, gives him a moment to breathe through the tremors, Gaz wipes sweaty strands of his hair out of his face, murmuring how good he's been, how pretty he looks all fucked out like that. Ghost would like to respond, would like to tell him to fuck off, but he can't get his mouth to form words, looks down at Price, still grinding on his sensitive cock, looking flushed and red and perfect- and desperate. So desperate there's tears in his babyblue eyes.
Belatedly, he realises he didn't pull out before cumming and Price is currently stuck on his cock, his own looking so strained its almost purple, ready to cum if only given the right incentive, the veins along his knot pulsing in quick succession.
"Captain?" Ghost rasps, watches Price tremble at the words.
Bravely, Ghost takes initiative, reaches down and uses Price's pre as lube, twists his fingers around his cockhead, feels the way Price squeezes around his knot, feels him throb in his hand.
Its so sweet to see him tremble. To watch this strong hardass of a man lose control and not chase after it. Gaz lifts himself from his perch, takes Price's face between his hands and kisses him sweetly. It seems to be that care that sends him over the edge, spilling across Ghost's chest, cum splattering his chin, his lips, Ghost feels himself opening his mouth, trying to capture some of the droplets with his tongue.
He pumps his hand over Price's knot, just to feel him squeeze his knot, desperate moans breaking through their kiss.
"Perfect..." Ghost mumbles, lies back down, staring up at Soap in silent proposition. When Soap finally realises he's looking, he laughs, settles himself back around Ghost's head and slips his cock into his mouth right down to the hilt. Ghost relaxes fully into the sheets, opens his throat to the intrusion, lets Soap fuck into him and doesn't fully realise Gaz has straddled his middle so he can kiss Price better.
When Soap cums pure slick down his throat in long, heavy spurts, Ghost finally understands what all this fuss around sex is about.
He forgets to breathe, comfortable with Soap's weight on his tongue, his knot has started to go down, but Price is still settled on it, the wet sounds of Gaz and him making out only vaguely reaching Ghost's ear.
Where were these men when he was younger? When the world didn't make sense and everybody was obsessed with fucking and so desperately averse to telling him why.
He suckles meekly at Soap's cock, hating how he can feel it softening, wondering if he can get it hard again if he just tries diligently enough.
Soap's laugh is music in his ears, but he pulls out of Ghost's mouth anyway, petting his cheek, "Breathe, boy. You were so good to us, I'm almost considering letting you use that huge cock on me."
That seems to get Gaz's attention. He sinks down heavy on Ghost's chest, smearing his tummy with more wet pre, head whipping around to fixate on Soap, "I swear to god if somebody gets to cum twice before I get to cum once I'll kill them."
He seems dead serious. Ghost traces the line of his spine with a hand, marvelling at the perfect plains of his back, gripping at the meat of his middle, dragging him back, back, back, until he can tongue at his balls, sucking them into his mouth gently.
"N-Not what I meant!" Gaz yelps, but also doesn't move away, grinds down on Ghost's tongue seemingly involuntary. Soap, however, has other plans.
He slinks on all fours towards him, batting his lashes and asks, "Have you ever laid with an omega before?"
Gaz breathes out a sigh, has to gather himself before he can answer, "Not in a long while."
"Do you want to?"
"Yes." That part sounds sure.
Soap guides him off of Ghost, who can't help the whine that escapes him at having been denied, but Price is right there, licking into Ghost's mouth, pacifying the rumble in his chest with sweet attention. He only breaks the kiss to watch when Gaz moans.
Soap is on his back, perched on a heap of pillows, Gaz between his legs, head of his cock dragging through his wet folds, before sinking in deep.
Price growls, deep and possessive and all eyes are on him in an instant, "What was that about your potency, Soap? Do you really want to risk that for a creampie?"
For a solid thirty seconds, Soap looks like he'll punch Price. Then he angrily pushes Gaz back out and throws a condom at him, that he fumbles out of a hole between two pillows.
"Put that on." He snaps, and Gaz scrambles to comply, looking hesitantly between the two before daring to come back between Soap's legs.
"Can I...?" He whispers, unsure.
"Yes," Soap huffs, then he gives Gaz a chaste kiss and urges him back inside.
Judging from Gaz's expression, it's just as good as without.
He starts a slow grind, but very soon, he can't help but speed up, until he's pounding into Soap so hard the omega bounces in the sheets, broken moans and gasps filling the room and pumping blood straight back into Ghost's cock.
Price acknowledges that with an amused chuff, before grinding on him slow and steady, seemingly more for amusement than pleasure, but Ghost doesn't mind, too fucked out and captivated by the sight.
Meanwhile, they go at it like animals, Soap bites harshly into Gaz's shoulder, egging him on, heels digging into the meat of Gaz's ass to spur him to go faster, harder, until he has to cling on for dear life so he won't smash his head against the wall.
"You like watching just as much as providing, don't you, Simon?" Price whispers into his ear, somehow intimate even in this scene.
Ghost nods, near shy, crossing Price's fond gaze sheepishly.
He can feel Price pulsing around him, apparently the heavy smell of sex in the air isn't lost on the pack alpha.
I love you, Ghost thinks and immediately goes beet red. Price, of course, notices, eyes twinkling like stars.
"What are you thinking about?" He murmurs, grinding himself deep, muddling any and all thoughts Ghost could have voiced.
"You're so cute and receptive," Price says, catching Ghost's eye, kissing up his nose like its the sweetest thing ever, "Haven't asked for a single thing tonight and still have people falling over themselves to have you."
"But it's you who's hogging my cock," Ghost remarks, voice hoarse from Soap's earlier antics.
"Priviledge as your Captain."
"I think you're just possessive."
Their conversation is interrupted by Gaz's gutteral moan, pumping himself into Soap once, twice, three times, before slumping over, hips grinding slow and exhausted.
Soap cards through his hair, looking smug and satisfied, until he fixates on Price.
"I want your knot, John." He states, no shame.
Gaz nips at his collar, growling in annoyance, "I just came and you already want to replace me?"
"Price has been dangling his knot in front of me all evening. I deserve it." Soap hisses, twisting them around so he's straddling Gaz, adding one last bruise to the tapestry littering Gaz's throat before he rolls off.
Ghost's eyes go wide when Soap pushes himself in between him and Price, giving Ghost a sweet kiss that has his head spinning before he reaches behind himself.
He doesn't wait for Price to pull out, or readjust, or give him any attention at all, just takes his cock and slips it into his cunt and groans as if this is what he's been waiting for all evening.
"Soap." Price's voice is stern.
"What?!" Soap snaps, impatient fury back in his tone.
"I'm not giving you my knot without a condom. You won't like carrying my pups and having to watch us go off on missions without you."
"I won't get pregnant form one single load!" Soap hisses.
Ghost rubs over his sides, trying to pacify him, but he barely matters in between these great men, just a pillow to lie on, a silent water as Price closes his big hand around Soap's throat and pulls him back until he has to strain, "You want my knot, then you play by my rules."
Soap growls, but Ghost can tell from the way his cock twitches that this fight is already lost.
"Gaz," Soap says.
Gaz wordlessly pulls a condom out of Soap's stash and tosses it to Price, who pushes Soap into Ghost, off his cock, before pulling him back hard.
Ghost's vision blanks.
Price sets a brutal pace from the get go, fucking into Soap relentlessly, fucking himself back on Ghost's cock with an intensity that Ghost would never be able to handle.
Soap moans wretched and broken, hides his face in the crook of Ghost's neck, clinging to his arms and licking up his throat.
Its almost too much, way past what Ghost had ever dreamt up, while at the same time not being enough at all. He needs to be inside Soap, but the thought of leaving Price's heat has his eyes prick with tears. Conflicting desires fight in his mind until Gaz grabs his hair, forcing his attention away.
"Want to suck my cock to distract yourself?" The beta asks.
The answer should be no, but Ghost grabs Gaz's thigh regardless, opens his mouth, desperate, shamefully, to be used.
Gaz complies easily, half hard again himself. Nestles in between Ghost's slick lips, a surprised little huff escaping him that Ghost doesn't have time to give much thought.
This is how he lies, mouth filled by Gaz, Soap sucking and biting at his chest, Price gorging himself on Soap and Ghost's bodies.
Ghost is the first to cum again, silently, muscles locking up as he releases, feeling Price squeeze hard around him when his knot fills out again, instead of fighting it, he simply sinks down heavily, pulls Soap up by the arms and has him do the work, allowing Ghost only half of a break. Gaz follows shortly after, apparently incredibly fast and eager, sinking into the sheets with a contented sigh and occupying Ghost's empty mouth with lazy, gentle kisses.
Soap breaks loud and aggressive, spasming in Ghost's lap with a deep groan, cum near gushing from his flushed cock, yet refusing to slow his pace, adamant about his single minded goal.
He reaches behind himself, claws into Price's hair and growls, "Cum, you bitch."
As if he'd only been waiting for the command, Price complies.
Ghost watches in awe as Price envelops Soap's body, wraps himself around the stout omega and pumps into him hard, pulling at Ghost's knot, voice loud and deep and perfect before he finally comes to a halt, two bodies crashing down on Ghost, who can't find it in him to mind.
"It's rude I'm excluded from this pretty chain." Gaz mopes and curls around Ghost, breath evening out.
He's out like a light before anybody can respond.
"Fuck, that was perfect," Soap groans, licking up Ghost's cheek like he owns it, and Ghost turns to kiss him, long and deep.
"You're perfect," he mumbles.
Next to them, Gaz starts snoring.
"We should clean up." Price murmurs.
"Fuck you," Soap grunts.
"At least take off the condom," Ghost reasons.
"That presumes I can move." Price tries to lift off, but he's locked tight on both sides.
"10 more minutes," Soap murmurs, wrapping an arm around Gaz's head.
His heartrate is evening out, Ghost can tell he'll be asleep soon as well.
"We can clean up tomorrow," he murmurs.
That's the last he says that night.
After a little bit more than 10 minutes, both Ghost and Price have calmed down enough that Price can wiggle his way out and take off what needs to be tossed, meanwhile Soap slides next to Ghost, hugging his middle and drifting off to sleep with his lips clamped tight around Ghost's scent gland.
When Price returns, Ghost pulls him in, kissing him deeply. Price melts into his side like he was always meant to be there, and if they fall asleep with their lips still locked, then that's nobody's business but their own.