Archive of Our Own

“You know I really appreciate you doing this, right babe? I know it’s not your scene, but it’ll be fun, I promise,” Daniel implores, eyes wide with a look that Max has such trouble saying no to.

That’s how he’s ended up in this situation, shoulders tense, a drink long empty in his hand and way, way out of his comfort zone. Daniel had sounded so excited about this when he had proposed the idea a few weeks ago, one of his friends telling him about a club where couples go to ‘explore their sexuality’, or whatever. He doesn’t know which friend, and doesn’t particularly care to find out - they had always kept their friendship groups separated, even though they’d been together for so long. Probably because when they got together Max hadn’t actually had any friends. But the idea had got stuck in Daniel’s head and he wouldn’t shut up about it, suggesting it in a tone which made it out to be some cool fun couples activity he had found to do, and not, you know, going to a party with the goal of finding someone else’s omega to fuck.

It’s fine. He had agreed, in the end, if only to stop Daniel looking so sad about it. Daniel had been so happy when he did, as well, loud and exuberant in that way of his. Max was probably just being judgemental, really, with his first reaction being: so I’m not good enough for you?

He knows that isn’t it. Well, he’s been assured that isn’t the reason Dan wants to do this. Daniel hadn’t been his first relationship, but he was the first person Max had fallen in love with, moved in with, longed for more with. They had met a short time after he had broken up with his ex, someone who was very demanding they met the typical alpha-omega timeline (marry, bond, babies) as soon as possible. It was overwhelming, and all Max wanted was the opposite of that, which he found in Daniel. But now Daniel is 32, and has been with the same omega for four years - not a particularly adventurous one at that - who he hasn’t even got pregnant. It’s understandable that his alpha would want to sow his seed, or something. 

Or something, he thinks, when Daniel leaves his side to go back to the couple he has been talking to for most of the night. A pretty alpha with an even prettier omega at his side, they’re the perfect picture of a mated couple. Max wonders, almost unconsciously, what it is about that omega in particular Daniel is drawn to. Is it his delicate features, his green eyes, his smooth skin? He can’t help but compare it to his own looks, a grimace appearing on his face that he tries to cover with a sip of his drink. He’s trying not to look too miserable, though he is sure he is failing, as Daniel gestures over to where he is standing and the couple turn his way. 

He tries to imagine what Daniel is saying about him. Tall, but decently flexible? Face not anything special, but sucks cock like a pro?

Shit. Enough fucking wallowing. He looks to the table behind him, searching for - there. He pours himself some tequila, shots it, and makes his way over to his mate. 

He’s agreed to come here, after all. Might as well full send it.

“Maxy!” Daniel yells as he makes his way over, and Max smiles hesitantly back.

“Hey,” he says, lamely. 

“Max, this is Charles and - sorry mate, what was your name again?” Daniel laughs, easily dodging what might have been an awkward moment with his boyish charm. Just for a second, Max is fiercely jealous of him.

“Pierre, nice to meet you,” the Alpha says, gaze playful, and oh, they’re French. Ugh. He nods politely back, and turns to the omega, who - 

“And I’m Charles Leclerc, lovely to meet you,” he says to Max, suddenly very close. Quickly, he gives Max a kiss on the cheek and steps away, giving Max a hint of his peppermint scent that Max has to restrain himself from breathing in too deeply. Beautiful looks, it follows beautiful smell. A contrast to his own cinnamon scent which he's been told can be overpowering. And fuck - of course the French accent works with his. Everything. 

“Same with you,” he replies nervously. He’s not - what happens now?

“Should we get a drink?” Pierre says. Thank fuck. That he knows how to do.

—

They’ve found themselves a secluded spot in the club - as much as you can in a place like this, anyway -  and Max is currently trying to resist the temptation of drinking his weight in alcohol to make this night go a bit easier. That probably wouldn’t be healthy. Instead he spends a good period of time staring into his glass of gin & tonic hoping it can help him figure the answers of the universe, not bothering to partake in the chats around him.

A lull in the chatter. “Nervous?” the man next to him asks. Daniel and Pierre are deep into a conversation about fuck knows what - boring alphas things, probably - which inevitably leads to the other omega trying to make conversation with him. Great. 

It’s not that he doesn’t get on with omegas (although admittedly he doesn’t know many aside from himself and a single coworker), he just has never found that he has that much in common with them. Which might be a product of his less than ideal alpha-centric childhood and subsequent long time relationships with them, but who knows. He’s probably just an asshole. 

“What about?” he asks, before downing the rest of his drink. If they’re gonna play a game about the reason why they’re all here not just being because they want to fuck each other’s partner's brains out, sure. He’ll play along. He doesn’t see the point - surely this would’ve been easier for him and Daniel to have just found someone on a dating app, but whatever. That wasn’t the point , apparently. They had to go to a fucking swingers party.

“Hmm, about later tonight maybe?” the omega giggles and gestures to the alphas sitting across to them. “When we all go home and fuck each other silly?” 

Max chokes on his drink. Well fuck, not playing around at all then.

“You okay, Maxy?” Daniel asks, and goes back to his conversation when Max nods. He looks back to the man next to him, mirth evident on his face, smirk pulling at his lips. Oh fuck him then. Max might have been slightly reluctant to come here, but he wasn’t going to back out of something he had put his mind to.

Especially when there’s some cocky asshole triggering his competitive streak.

“No, I’m not,” he manages when his throat is clear again. “Why, are you?” He tries not to make his tone too combative. It's not really this guy's fault he hit a nerve.

“Ah no, not really. It’ll be fun I think,” Charles smiles. Max feels a gut warning from the look in his eye, before he says, “For you, maybe.” 

He grins then, and it's different, wild and fun, and Max feels another pang in his gut when he leans close again, lips to Max’s ear. Charles nods to Pierre. “He has a really big cock. I hope you’ll be able to manage it.”

Max chokes again.

—--

“You really need to learn the art of getting to know people before you have sex with them, sweetheart,” Pierre says, kissing the top of Charles’ head. The four of them have piled into the first taxi they could see, desperation suddenly seeming to have set in after several lewd comments made from the other omega. Daniel is in the front, with Max squished next to the window with Charles in the middle. 

Pierre's mate pouts. “But I do not see the point in such conversations. We are all here for one reason, no? Besides, you were boring me with your tennis talk. We can do much better things.” 

Daniel laughs at that, loud and honking, and Max - would usually agree. No point in beating around the bush when you can go head first through it. But something about Charles has him feeling off kilter. 

Beside him, Pierre kisses his mate in response, passionate though brief. Daniel turns to look behind his seat, their eyes connecting. 

He thinks, for a second, that Daniel might be checking in with him, that he’s okay with everything about to happen, that he didn’t just agree in order to please him out of a desperate need to be loved - 

But Daniel just grins. “Aren’t you excited? This is going to be so fun.” 

Max barely has time to smile softly back before the car’s stopping. He gets out quickly, glad to be away from what felt like a car with not enough air. He glances around and notices quickly that they’re at his and Daniel’s house. 

For some reason, he wasn’t expecting that. He always thought they’d go to whoever they were hooking up with’s. The thought of the four of them in his home - on their bed - 

“Hey, you okay?” a soft voice asks him, a hand at the small of his back reassuring. He breathes deeply, peppermint filling his senses, weirdly soothing. He looks up at the man staring in faint concern at him, a small smile pulling at his dainty lips. 

For a second he can’t answer. This whole thing has felt wrong from the moment that Daniel brought it up, and he still can’t escape the feeling that this is proof that something is undeniably, unbearably flawed in his and Daniel’s relationship. But looking at the man opposite him, he thinks. Maybe. Maybe it could be fun.

“Yes, of course,” he confirms, meaning it, and the omega unfurrows his brow Max hadn’t even realized had been pinched in apprehension. “Are you?” 

Charles smiles, one Max doesn’t think he’s seen yet, and grabs Max hand, raising it to his lips. Charles holds his gaze intensely, and Max - wants to look away, for some reason. Can’t look away. Ever slowly, Charles lowers his lips and gently brushes them against Max’s knuckles. “I am very okay, darling.” 

Max darts his eyes away nervously. Irrationally, he was suddenly worried Daniel and Pierre were witnessing whatever they were doing. He relaxes when he sees them still in conversation with the cab driver, arguing over payment.

Charles lets go of him, suddenly, and when Max glances back at him his hands are in his pockets, a smile hinting at his lips of a hidden joke. Max wishes he could get rid of that look, somehow. It was utterly infuriating. 

“Ah, bastard,” Pierre says, the car finally gone. Daniel pats his shoulder as Charles goes to his side. 

“There, there. He was probably discriminating against you because you’re French.”

—

Max is sat on the bed, feeling awkward in his own home as Daniel and Charles enthusiastically make out in front of him. Fuck, why was he like this? It wasn’t like it was just jealousy - though yes, of course, seeing his long term partner kiss another man made his chest ache and head dizzy - but another part of him thought that maybe this was just him . Maybe this is why Daniel felt the need to initiate this whole situation, because he was so fucking vanilla. 

He weirdly felt like he wanted to cry. It was probably the drink, and also because he could see the picture of his sister and mom on his desk behind where is boyfriend is tongue fucking a guy he met three hours ago.

“Max,” a voice says behind him, and oh, right. There was another person here too. 

Pierre touches his cheek softly and Max lets him turn his head so it was facing away from the bed, looking up at the alpha instead. “They make a hot couple, right? We could stare at them, or we could do something ourselves, too,” he chuckles, and actually that’s a good point. He liked kissing. Pierre was hot. Why not? 

He nodded, stood up and slammed his lips against the Frenchman’s. He is instantly met with a wet, open mouth, Pierre quickly pushing his tongue intrusively into his mouth and taking control of the kiss. It was noisy, and hot, and just what he needed. He felt himself being pushed back towards the best, and trusting the other not to let him fall on top of someone else, he let himself fall. Pierre held himself just above him, still kissing him. It was so long since he kissed anyone other than Daniel it was weird - Pierre was pressing more insistantly than Daniel might have, more eager to explore his mouth in a way that might have him cringing at a different point if he didn’t have a sudden need to get out of his head right now. 

“Hot,” he heard someone say, when they finally stopped for air. Pierre falls and lays down next to him, panting and laughing, “Well you two looked like you weren’t stopping for a while, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Max sat up, feeling better already as he looked at the other two. He scooted over Pierre and grabs Daniel by his jacket, pouting his lips in a clear demonstration in what he wanted. Daniel chuckled and complied easily, covering his mouth with his familiar taste and scent. It was nice, a relaxing pace compared to what he had just experienced. They kissed for a few moments before he pulled away, peering at the couple watching them. 

As if on cue, Charles moved towards him, an excited look in his eye. Max felt that warning feeling in his gut again, just before Charles opened his mouth. “Can I kiss you, Max?”

Max’s eyebrows raised. This was - okay. He didn’t expect this. He looked at Daniel, who shrugged, as if to say its up to you , and his mouth made the decision for him before his brain could catch up.

“Yeah, if you want,” he replied, voice gravelly. Charles smiled and took his face in both hands. His eyes - fucking green eyes - stayed wide open as he leaned in.

And oh. He got why Daniel was so into it now. Charles started soft, but intense, a firm pressure on his lips as they moved together. He still had hold of Max’s head and tilted it, slightly, as he brushed his tongue across Max’s lips, which opened immediately, greedy, letting him in. Their tongues touched - danced, Max thought bizarrely - with Max giving a token of resistance before giving up and surrendering to him completely, letting him push and pull and bite. It was different from Pierre’s, with his all encompassing enthusiasm and overwhelming heat: different from the lackadaisical, almost mundane nature of his and Daniel’s kiss, the way they always seem to kiss, these days. It was - fuck, it was -

Over. Charles pulled back, intentionally letting a string of spit live for a second between them while grinning over to Pierre. Max looked at Daniel who seemed to be in a state of shock and right, yeah. This was a thing omegas did because alphas went wild for it. It wasn’t a thing they did because they actually were into it.

He squirmed, suddenly feeling too hot in his jeans and button up shirt. 

“Now you two,” Charles said, pointing a finger between the two alphas. A pause. Max stifled a laugh at the look on their faces. 

“Uh, no, sweetheart,” Daniel chuckled nervously. 

“Why not?” Charles asked, almost innocent, if not for the devilish look on his face. “Me and Daniel, Max and Pierre, me and Max. Only one pair left, no?” 

“Yeah, but you two are…” 

“We are what?” Charles’ smile only seemed to get wider.

“Charles…” Pierre says tiredly, as if they’ve had this argument before. Maybe they have, Max wonders.

“You are both omegas, okay? It’s different for us.” Daniel seemed to find his answer, finally. 

Charles hums, before straddling Daniel in a blur of movement. He leans in close. “I will not let you fuck me if you don’t kiss Pierre,” he says, utterly serious. 

Max holds his breath. He knows - of course, he knows Daniel isn’t violent, but an omega challenging him like that who isn’t his mate - 

“Just a little peck won’t hurt, hmm?” Charles says sweetly, leaning back to rest on his heels, innocent as anything. Daniel glances at Pierre, back at Charles, obviously weighing his options. He doesn’t glance at Max. 

“Fuck, fine. If you’re up for it, mate?” he gives in, shrugging at Pierre. The other alpha only snorts before coming close. He must be used to his mate’s antics. 

“Just a quick one,” he grumbles, and it is. It’s very anticlimatic, to be honest.  

(Probably not as earth shattering as his, Max thinks.)

“Perfect!” Charles claps his hands together, lightning the mood instantly. “Okay, now we can continue,” he says before capturing Daniel’s lips with his own. 

He wonders what it feels like for Daniel, all that intense energy focused on him for so long. He wonders how Pierre can stand it. 

He turns his gaze to the man in question and finds him already looking. He grins, moving closer.

For a while, the world seems to solely consist of the noises coming from himself and the other three people in the room. The scent of them would be overwhelming, but Max latches on to the familiar cedarwood of Daniel, and Charles’ sweet peppermint which balances out Pierre’s more spicier scent. They pair well together. He has half a mind thinking of what people would say about his and Daniel’s, if his own cinnamon goes well with his beloved. 

Then Pierre does something with his tongue, and he stops thinking much at all.

Distantly, he hears the noises of clothes being taken off, and when he looks up the sight of Daniel kissing up and down Charles’ bare neck. Its obscenely close to where a bond mark would be, and it should bother him but all he sees is skin and Charles and instead of jealousy all he can think is fuck, he’s so fucking beautiful. 

He knows he’s been staring too long when Charles, letting out little whimpers at Daniel’s ministrations, opens his eyes and catches him looking. He smiles, slow, and bites his lip, releasing a small moan. 

“Mrmg,” Max lets out involuntarily at the sight. 

“Fuck,” says Pierre, and Max thinks he’s agreeing with Max’s appreciation before he realizes Pierre can’t see jackshit from where he’s sitting. “Need to get this off. Want to see you.”

Max tears his eyes away from Charles and lets Pierre undress him. “Damn,” Pierre says when he figures out the buttons on Max’s shirt and is faced with his chest, “your tits are fucking sexy.” 

And Max suddenly feels very self conscious as Pierre lets his hands wander, tweaking his nipples, dragging along his abs. He’s not - it’s not that he can’t take praise, it's just that for some reason he feels a bit - objectified? Not quite, but. Uncomfortable. But then Pierre tugs his lip from where he was worrying it and says, “fuck, and your mouth,” and well that’s easy, then.

“You want me to suck you off?” he says, in much more comfortable territory. No alpha would say not to that, and this he knows he can do, that he enjoys doing. This is much more safe than letting himself be praised and appreciated by someone who could have any sort of motivation. 

“Shit, baby, you wanna?” Pierre breaths predictably and Max is nodding and sliding off the bed to kneel between his legs. 

(This is always the place where Max thinks yeah, actually. He was a fucking omega.)

“Ah fuck, mate, he gonna suck you?” Daniel suddenly moves next to him, looking down on Max as Pierre gets his cock out. Max doesn’t check whether Charles is looking. “Lucky man, Pierre, getting my omega to do that.” 

And that does get Max to look up, partly flattered, that Daniel sounds proud, almost possessive of him, partly worried that he is actually upset. But Daniel just looks awed, almost blissed out at the sight.

And then Pierre gets his cock out, and Max’s brain goes blank, because fuck . 

“Oh shit,” Daniel says, gleefully.

“Is it too big?” Pierre says, like a dickhead. 

“Don’t hurt him, darling,” Charles coos. 

“Ah don’t say that, you’re just encouraging him -” 

But Max has already got his hands to it, face nuzzling as he gets a feel for what he’s about to put inside himself. Pierre lets out a hiss as he licks it, softly. 

Because Max might have some hang ups about sex, but he loves this. He feels the adrenaline pumping through him as he works out what the best way is going to be to take it, to make it feel good, to push his body to the limits.

(it reminds him somewhat of another life, many years ago, far far away).

He groans as he gets his mouth around the first few centimetres, the feeling already going straight to his cunt. It’s not exactly the physical feeling of it, more the familiarity of knowing what to do and how to be good, how to be useful.

He pushes, and pushes, and lets his brain tune out and muscle memory take over. 

( “shit, shit, oh my god, does he even have a gag reflex? Where the hell did you find this kid?

“He used to, but I think he trained himself out of it. Or is too stubborn to let it bother him. Jesus, look at his throat… ”

“I think that is a little unsafe, you know. For if he is choking or something.”

“Charles,” a grunt, “not right now.)

He lets himself get as far as he can manage, then a little bit more, then starts to suck, moving his head up and down. His tongue is a little out of action in this position, but it makes a valiant effort. It’s tiring, so he pulls off -

“You should use my hair to move, yes?” 

“ Fuck.”

- and makes sure Pierre does what little work he can.

He continues for what could be minutes or hours, before Max is wondering whether Pierre knows any words except for ones beginning with f or s and he’s holding Max against his crotch, not letting him move. Max fights back the panic that builds in him. He wants this to be good, so if this is what Pierre wants, fine. He can be choked a little. 

But Pierre does let him off in time that he only barely manages to catch his come in his mouth, a little falling on his lip. He goes to wipe it off, but before he can, a thumb reaches down to clean it away. Though his eyes are closed, he knows instinctively it's Charles’. He opens his eyes and stares into sea green. He coughs a little, affected by the choking and the size of that thing, and Charles pulls him up to sit in his lap, a little dazed. 

Pierre and Daniel start talking as he takes a breather. “Yeah, mine’s a bit like that too. Got an oral fixation. Seems to only apply to him asking to lick my asshole, though…” 

Max tunes into the conversation in what seems to be a rather strange point. Pierre and Daniel seem to be conversing while Pierre has his soft cock out and Daniel is stroking his hard one. Totally less gay than a peck on the lips. 

“Shit really? I’ve always heard of that but thought it sounds kind of gross…”

“Max, are you okay?” he turns away from the alphas at the question. He smiles, maybe one of his first real ones of the night, looking at Charles’ once again concerned face. 

“I’m great,” he says. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Oh,” he gasps. “Yes, please.” 

And then they’re kissing again, and it's every bit as lovely as the last one. Max melts into it, with Charles bringing his arms around him and securing him against his chest. There’s so much more skin than last time, and Max wants - 

“Shit, man,” appreciative sounds echoing around then, and Max suddenly remembers there’s other people in the room. 

Charles seems to pay them no mind, instead leaning them forward so Max is pressed against the mattress once more with Charles’ body between his legs. The omega fidgets, a while, still kissing passionately, and Max almost asks what's wrong until Charles’ lips are leaving his. He makes a noise of protest before Charles shushes him lightly. Charles hesitates, question clearly on his tongue, before he becomes decisive. 

“Max, can I eat you out?”

He stops breathing. That - surely - he can’t, surely? That wasn’t what this night was for. But then he looks - almost unconsciously - at Charles' lips, and back up to his eyes, and he wants, he wants. He feels himself starting to nod, before cutting it short.

He glances at Daniel, at Pierre. They don’t react, seemingly caught as off guard as he is. 

“I -” he begins. He feels like a stuttering mess. “That would be -” he cuts himself off.

“Charles,” Pierre begins. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

Charles looks confused, his eyebrows scrunching adorably, before straightening out again with clarity dawning on his face. “Right,” he begins, his voice on the edge of something almost sarcastic. He turns around to face the alphas. 

“Daniel, can I eat your omega’s pussy? Apparently you’re the only one I need to ask.” 

Daniel’s eyes are comically big. He doesn’t look at Max, eyes focused on Charles. “Uh,” he laughs nervously, “well, sure, go ahead. Just don’t make it as good as me, yeah?” he chuckles again, as if the idea is outlandish. 

Charles faces back to Max, smirk pulling at his lips. “Yes?” he asks, voice soft and oh so gentle. Max’s face suddenly gets warm, and he feels uncharacteristically shy as he nods his head again in affirmation. “Yeah, please.” 

Charles smiles wide, delighted with the polite response. He shuffles down, and Max has to lift up his hips as Charles pulls his pants off. He doesn’t have time to feel self-conscious like he normally would at the amount of slick he has produced before Charles is diving in as if he’s been starved for it

Max almost honest-to-god yelps at the contact of Charles’ soft tongue against his cunt. The feel of it - cold, but quickly becoming hot, hot hot - the way its teasing, but not quite pressing against his clit, the sounds he’s making as he laps up the slick as if he’s desperate for it.

As quickly as the contact arrived it leaves, and Max can’t help but whine at the loss as Charles focuses on his thighs, sucking and biting and licking the sensitive skin covered in excess slick. 

“You taste so good, darling,” he murmurs, and Max feels his face grow impossibly hotter. 

After biting just soft enough to not leave a mark (wouldn’t want to go upsetting his alpha, after all), he returns to Max’s centre, this time sucking and licking and tongue fucking his hole, and Max’s mouth won’t fucking shut up about it. He tightens his thighs around Charles’ head in an attempt to get him to go where he really wants him to, but Charles holds them down, in a move which he shouldn’t be able to do because he’s a fucking omega .

But that doesn’t seem important now. What’s important now is that Charles gets his tongue around his clit, asap.

“Charles,” he lets out, desperate. “Please, please.”

(“ I’m getting hard again.”

“Again? I’ve not even come yet! Do you think they’ve forgotten about me?”

“Mate, I really don’t think you’re their top priority right now.”)

Charles stops what he’s doing, for a moment, looking up at him. “So pretty, mon coeur. Look at you,” he says, before diving in again. 

And finally, he’s properly sucking him where he wants now, circling his tongue around his clit and licking and fuck, biting with a hint of teeth which shouldn’t be pleasurable but somehow is.

He thinks - which is not possible, because he never comes from this, not from all the times he’s had it done, especially not in so little time - he thinks he’s about to come.

And then Charles presses those long, delicate fingers into his hole and he knows he’s definitely about to come.

He moans, long and loud, and there’s no room to be self conscious about the amount of people watching him right now with shock waves of pleasure washing through him as it becomes obvious what’s just happened. 

(“ fucking hell.” 

“Jealous?”

“Of which one?”)

“Shit, Charles,” he pants, “that was so - thank you -” he begins pathetically, but then Charles goes back to licking him, fingers still inside. “No, no,” he babbles, “no, I can’t. It’s too much!”

“Shh, yes you can,” Charles says encouragingly, head resting just above Max’s stomach but fingers still inside, still hitting a perfect angle, still wonderfully overstimulating. “You can do this for me, can’t you? One more time?”

And Max feels that same feeling, like when he was sucking Pierre’s cock, of pushing his body to the limit. Of finding what he can take, and taking just that little bit more. “Okay, okay, I’ll try.” 

Charles hums approvingly. “Good boy,” he says before mouthing at him once again, and well. That’s just not fair.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he comes again. He’s never come more than once in a night - and even that takes a lot of stimulation - and somehow the second one feels more powerful than the first.

“Well,” Charles says brightly after he comes up for air. “That was a great idea, I think.” He leans over to kiss Max, once, the taste of slick familiar on his tongue, and Max takes a second to look at him. He’s never thought he’s attracted to anything except for Alphas, at a stretch some beta males. But. 

Charles’ face is red, sweaty, and covered in slick. He’s quite possibly the most beautiful person Max has ever seen. And he just made Max come twice. 

Max hums happily, eyes fluttering shut as tiredness overcomes him. He distantly feels a kiss on his cheek, and then sounds of what definitely has to be Charles and Daniel fucking. He should feel sad about that, he thinks. Daniel is fucking someone else.

But what he really thinks is: I bet Charles’ cunt is fucking amazing.