Chapter Text
Jake could smell it on him.
Underneath all the cologne and scent blockers Marc was drowning himself in—Steven’s cologne, Jake couldn’t help but notice, the unexpected notes of myrrh and cedar far too much of Steven and so very little of Marc—Jake could smell it.
Marc’s heat.
That sweet taste of rain and dewdrops on ripe honeysuckle sat at the back of Jake’s throat as the scent of it permeated the flat. It soaked into every little crack and crevice and bookpage, the bitter tang of absinthe and turpentine souring that pretty scent the longer Marc tried to ignore the inevitable. He was very devoutly pretending that he wasn’t in the throws of pre-heat, and it was very quickly becoming a problem.
The problem did not entirely lay in the fact that Marc was going into heat. Marc was a god damn adult who could—mostly—take care of himself, and Jake had enough self control to step back and let the Omega have his space. If Marc growled at him and snapped his teeth and told him to leave then Jake would, even if he wouldn’t go terribly far. Just far enough to give Marc the space and distance he had wanted. Jake would park his ass right outside the door of their flat and sit there and snap at anyone that tried to get in and it wasn’t because Jake was a shitty, overbearing, protective Alpha. Jake wasn’t even Marc’s Alpha. He couldn’t play that card even if he wanted to, because Marc would snap at him with sharp teeth and pretty lips and tell him to fuck off.
And yet Marc had made Jake to protect him from all the shitty, awful things in the world and Jake didn’t care if they weren't in the same body anymore, he wasn’t just going to leave Marc to fend for himself while he was like this. Jake couldn’t. The very thought of it made him nauseous and queasy.
No, the problem lay almost entirely in the fact Marc wasn’t used to actually partaking in his heats, and so he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
And with Steven gone, Jake was the one who had to deal with it.
Before, when they had all still been together, Marc had jammed suppressants down his throat the moment he presented like he would die if he wouldn’t.
Marc had been terrified of his mother finding out he was an Omega, of giving her one more thing to use against him because Omega’s were supposed to take care of children and not let them drown. So he had drowned himself in scent blockers and crunched the hard white pills he hadn’t gotten legally between his teeth and swallowed the bitter chalk over and over and over. He had lied about his gender on his military application and said he was a Beta just so he could get away from his mother faster, and it had worked for a long time until people got curious, until they went through Marc’s things and found his suppressants and scent blockers and held him down on his bed and then and then Jake had taken over and while he did not kill them he still wished he had.
Jake wasn’t sorry about what he did.
He would do it all over again. A thousand times, over and over and over if it would keep his Marc safe.
Jake was only sorry about what had happened after, about how long it took him to give the body back to Marc because Marc hadn’t wanted it back, about the dishonorable discharge and Bushman and Marc thinking he needed to be strong and angry and stomp down whatever omegan instincts he still let creep to the surface. And Jake hated it. He hated it but he wasn’t built to protect Marc from things like that. He didn’t know how to keep him safe from all the thoughts and feelings that could hurt him.
Marc hadn’t let himself be soft for a long time after that.
It was not until Layla came into his life that Marc let the walls crack just a bit.
He would let a purr rumble in his chest on easy mornings where Layla had gotten up before him and made coffee. He would gather up all of Layla’s soft things and make a nest in their bed, would let her gentle him and lull him into a quiet ease. Marc still didn’t go through his heat, an argument he and Layla had often because avoiding his heat for so long wasn’t healthy but now Marc was just too frightened of being vulnerable like that, but he still got to be soft.
And that was the issue, wasn’t it?
Marc had never really let himself fall to all the baser instincts that came with his heat.
He didn’t know how.
It was not until all three of them came back from the Duat, separate but still unwilling to part, that Marc was forced to figure it out.
Because Marc ran out of suppressants. Because his heat slammed into him like a brick wall, unexpected and hard. Because when Osiris brought them back he had not replaced the years of suppressants in Marc’s system. It was not until Marc ran to Steven, not knowing what to do because he had never had a heat and all he wanted was the touch of a gentle Alpha and a familiar scent and Jake was not that.
So Jake left while Marc had been scared out of his mind, and Jake had felt so sick as he walked away while Marc was in pain, but he did it anyway because that’s what Marc had wanted. He rode out his first heat without Jake there, and when he came back Marc had a pretty bruise on his neck and he looked so god damn happy about it.
Because Steven hadn’t hurt him.
Because Steven wasn’t made to hurt things.
So now Marc was agitated and finicky and restless, wanting one thing one second and swapping it out for something else the next. He was puttering around Steven’s flat, adjusting things to his liking and trailing his fingers on walls and bookshelves, scenting and marking without realizing. He had turned the thermostat down low enough that Jake had put his jacket on, walking around the flat in Steven’s shirts and Steven’s sleep pants with flushed cheeks and sweat damp hair. Marc would wander around and gather up all the soft things he could find, make a half constructed nest on the couch before realizing what he was doing and tear it all apart. He would snap at Jake for being too close and snap at Jake for being too far away, would hover near him before storming away to go bury himself in the pile of blankets on the bed.
Jake tried to stay out of his way as much as Marc would allow him to.
He knew that Marc was only really acting like this because Steven was gone, and without his Alpha to tell him what to do Marc didn’t know what to do with himself.
Steven, who had left on a mission for Khonshu because Marc was too close to his pre-heat and Jake was still recovering from the last mission. Steven, who had told Jake to sit his ass back down when he tried to get up because you just broke most of your ribs and I don’t care if that old pigeon healed you, you’re staying put. Steven, who had used his Alpha voice on Jake, and he had been so god damn stunned by it—because Steven never used his Alpha voice—that Jake sat his ass right back down without a word while something warm and sweet curled in his stomach.
So now Jake sat stiff as a board on the couch, watching Marc pace around with a curious interest.
He had never actually seen Marc in heat.
He was just as new to all this as Marc was.
Jake had always left for the few that Marc had had—this would be his fourth, if Jake was keeping track correctly—taking the long missions with Khonshu because it just seemed like the polite thing to do. When he came back Marc was always happy and purring and well fucked out and Jake wished he had seen it but it wasn’t his place to. All he had to go on was the sweet scent of dewdrops on honeysuckle and his own thoughts that Jake tried not to have, but thoughts were awful things that you couldn’t always control.
“Are you coming home soon?” Marc had his phone pressed against his ear and his arm wrapped around his stomach as he paced up and down the length of the kitchen. Jake couldn’t hear Steven’s response, but with the whine Marc let out he couldn’t imagine it was good. “Can’t you just—?” Marc cut himself off like he didn’t know what to ask, his whine growing a little more desperate.
Jake wanted to reach out, to soothe and placate, but he stayed still.
Steven was Marc’s Alpha.
Not Jake.
Marc would probably shove him away if Jake even tried, would growl and snap at him and try to put as much distance between them as he could. Marc wouldn’t want another Alpha anywhere near him when he was this deep into his pre-heat, and the fact that he had allowed Jake to stay in the flat for this long was nothing short of miraculous–never mind that Jake lived here too. He was so close to his full blown heat. It wouldn’t take much to tip Marc over, to let his hive mind instincts take over and reduce him to a writhing mess—
“He wants to talk to you,”
Jake startled.
He hadn’t realized Marc had gotten closer.
Marc was hovering over him, arm outstretched with the phone in hand but keeping the little coffee table firmly between them. His lips were bitten red, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, pupils blown wide from the pre-heat. There was the slightest tremble in his fingers, the collar of his shirt sweat-soaked and sticking to his skin. Marc smelled so bitter, the absinthe and turpentine settling underneath Jake’s tongue and between his teeth. He wanted to…fuck, he didn’t know. He wanted to kiss it all away, coax out the sweet scent of honeysuckle and dewdrops that always lingered in the flat days after Marc’s heat. He wanted to pull Marc close, push his nose into his own neck so Marc could scent and calm down, he wanted to…fuck, Jake just wanted to make him feel better.
Marc looked miserable and Jake hated it.
Jake reached for the phone, careful not to touch Marc even though he so badly wanted to. “Si?”
“How is he?” Steven got right to the point. He sounded worried. Frustrated. It was times like this where the gods gift to them seemed more like a curse. Times where Marc was hurting, where Steven was too far away to fix it, where Jake didn’t know how and even if he did he wasn’t sure that he was allowed to because it was not his teeth marks that had scared Marc’s neck.
Jake was silent for a moment.
Marc was staying close to him, twitching and fiddling with the long sleeves of Steven’s sweater. Like he was nervous. Jake scooted aside, offered up more room on the couch in case Marc wanted to sit. He had tried to make a few nests here, so maybe that’s what he wanted? There were still enough blankets draped over the back for him to do it. For a moment Marc looked like he was going to take Jake up on his offer. He took a tiny step forward and around the coffee table before stilling again, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down over his palms just like Steven did. His pretty curls were sticking to his forehead, both from sweat and the three showers he had taken over the last two days. Jake watched a drop of water fall from his hair and roll down Marc’s jaw.
“Twitchy.” Jake answered, clearing his throat.
Marc wrinkled his nose.
“Twitchy.” Steven repeated.
Jake stared at Marc a little longer before answering Steven. “He’s pacing a lot. Scenting the flat. Keeps trying to make nests.”
Steven bit out a curse, then took in a deep breath. There was a moment of silence that followed, long and drawn out and Jake was starting to think that Steven hung up on him before he spoke again.
“Put me on speaker, Jake.”
His tone was hard, with a sort of finality to it that didn’t leave room for argument. It was the same tone of voice he had used when he told Jake to stay behind and let him take Khonshu’s next job. That same tone that made something warm and sweet settle in his stomach. Jake complied as Marc perked up, the Omega watching with rapt attention as Jake set the phone on the table between them. Jake could feel Marc staring at him, and he could just barely hear the faintest whine slip from underneath Marc’s tongue. Marc cut it off quick enough, but Jake still heard it. He snapped his head up to look at him, but now Marc was looking at anything and everything that wasn’t Jake.
Was Marc nervous?
He certainly seemed like he was, but Jake couldn’t imagine what for.
“Marc,” Steven said. His voice had softened, but there was still that hardness to it. That no room for argument tone still there. “Will you let Jake take care of you until I can get back?”
Marc stiffened.
Jake opened his mouth to say something, but not a sound came out.
Whatever he had been expecting Steven to say hadn’t been that.
“Steven—“ Marc, however, seemed like he had been expecting it. He let out another whine, louder this time, like he was trying to guilt the Alpha into taking it back. Steven was nowhere near as possessive and controlling as most other Alpha’s, but to tell Marc to go to another Alpha while he was this close to his heat was…well, Jake didn’t know what to do with it.
“You’re too close, love,” Steven soothed. There was a different sort of warmth to his voice like this, the crackle of the phone’s speaker something strangely familiar. It made Jake feel safe and sheltered even though Steven had just casually told Marc to let Jake handle his pre-heat like he had told Marc to go pickup some more milk at the store. “I know you wanted to wait, but you’re going to make yourself sick like this.”
Marc let out another whine, softer this time, a little more questioning.
“Marc,” Steven’s tone was firmer. More Alpha. “Let Jake take care of you.”
And that was all he needed, it seemed.
Marc pitched forward with a heady moan, and then Jake found himself with a lapful of a squirming Omega. Jake just barely caught him, placing his hands on Marc’s waist and pulling him a little further up so he didn’t go tumbling to the floor. He was warm. Even though the fabric of the clothes Marc was wearing Jake could feel how warm he was. Pre-heat fever. Marc groaned, squirmed some more until Jake lifted his hands so he could have a free range of movement without Jake keeping him still. Marc shifted and squirmed, adjusting himself so he was straddling Jake’s waist. Marc blinked at him, then started tugging on Jake’s jacket to get it off. “Do you…do you want to scent me?” Jake asked hesitantly, placing his hands back on Marc’s hips once Marc was comfortable and his jacket was off and thrown somewhere on the floor. “Will that help?”
That seemed safe.
Scenting someone familiar should be enough to calm Marc until Steven got back.
Marc clung tightly to his shoulders, ducking his head down so he could rub his cheek against Jake’s jaw.
Scenting Jake like this should be enough if Marc did it for long enough, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew his scent would only go so far in placating Marc. What he really needed was his Alpha, and Jake wasn’t…he wasn’t that.
Carefully, so as not to jostle Marc, Jake reached for one the blankets that had been thrown haphazardly on the couch. It was one from Marc and Steven’s bed, one left over from Marc’s nesting attempts. It was heavy with both Marc and Steven’s scent, and as Jake pulled it over Marc he hoped it would be enough to soothe him and lull him into a calmer state. It was certainly making him dizzy and light and pleasantly fuzzy. Myrrh and honeysuckle. Two of Jake’s favorite scents. “There you go,” Jake murmured, tangling his fingers in Marc’s hair—far away from the back of his neck and all the weak pressure points there—and guiding the Omega to the junction of his own neck and shoulder. Marc went easily, fingers tightening enough to leave bruises deep in Marc’s shoulders. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
Marc took in a deep breath and rolled his hips against Jake’s thigh and—oh.
Marc was wet.
“Fuck, Marc—“ Jake hissed, tightening his hold on Marc on instinct. Marc keened, grinding down on Jake’s thigh, and Jake let go of Marc’s curls to drop his hand in his waist to hold him steady. Marc didn’t even seem to notice, still trying to chase after that little bit of pleasure and relief even though Jake was holding him still. He hadn’t realized Marc was this far gone. That he had tipped so far over the edge. That was probably why he had put on Steven’s cologne and all those scent blockers, so Jake wouldn’t smell how close Marc actually was to his heat. His heart felt heavy and fell far too still in his chest at the realization, that even now Marc was still trying to hide this. That he was trying to hide it from Jake. “You should have said something—“
Marc groaned, nipping at Jake’s scent gland before licking over it. He did not bite hard enough to break the skin, but Jake still jerked and groaned in surprise at that unexpected bit of pleasure. Marc hummed, pleased at Jake’s reaction. He did it again, a little harder this time, grinding back down on Jake’s thigh as he jolted again at the unexpected feeling of teeth being so near such a sensitive spot. He wanted to push Marc’s face into his neck and make him bite Jake properly. He wanted to hold tightly to Marc’s hips and keep him still, wanted to drag the Omega across his thigh and watch him whine and moan at the pleasure of it all, wanted to see just how soaked Marc would get…fuck, Jake had to focus. The scent of honeysuckle and dew was getting stronger the more Marc rocked and squirmed in Jake’s lap, and Jake had never known just how intoxicating it could be. He wanted more of it, wanted to hold Marc down and bury his nose in Marc’s neck and spend hours just breathing that scent in. He wondered if Steven did that, if he spent hours just scenting Marc…
Fucking hell, Jake had to focus.
Steven and Marc had trusted him to get Marc though tonight and the next day until Steven came back and Jake wasn’t going to abuse that. This was about what Marc wanted, what he could handle and how far he wanted Jake to go.
The blanket Jake had grabbed earlier had slipped off Marc’s shoulders and dropped to the floor beside Jake’s discarded jacket. Jake didn’t want to jostle Marc to get it, so he grabbed another one from the couch to place over Marc, but Marc swatted that one away with an impatient growl. Jake blinked dumbly at him, but when Marc just kept staring at him Jake slowly tilted his head to give Marc a little better access to his neck. Maybe he really did just need to scent someone. Maybe Marc needed the physical aspect of it, and that was why he had destroyed all his nests and shoved blankets away and got antsy when Jake wandered out of his sight because the scent of Steven alone was not enough.
That was what he wanted, it seemed, because Marc went back to scenting Jake with a happy little hum. He had used the brief amount of time to grind against Jake’s thigh again when Jake had let go of him to get the blanket, but Marc didn’t seem as upset this time when Jake put his hand back on his hip and held him still.
The sleep pants Marc wore were damp and well on their way to being soaked, and Jake couldn’t imagine that it was comfortable.
“Marc,“ Jake said his name softly, hesitantly lifting one hand to tangle his fingers back in Marc’s curls. It took a moment for Marc to pull back, his lips twisted into a scowl at his irritation from being pulled away again. Jake lifted his other hand, rubbing it up and down Marc’s side like he had seen Steven do a thousand times before when he had to calm Marc down. Marc hummed, sweet and soft, relaxing almost immediately. Jake swallowed thickly, then slowly moved his hand back down to Marc’s waist. Marc was so plaint underneath his hands, and Jake felt blessed to see Marc like this just as much as he felt terrified because Jake wasn’t Steven. He didn’t know how to hold Marc like this. How to be gentle with him. He didn’t know but fuck if he didn’t want to learn. So Jake carefully rubbed his thumb against Marc’s hipbone and hoped it was right. “Do you want to take these off? Get something more comfortable on?”
“He does get awfully wet, doesn’t he?”
Jake jerked.
He had forgotten Steven was still on the phone.
“He tastes awfully sweet, too.” Steven continued casually. He had an easy sort of tone about him, and it wasn’t until moments like this, where Jake stilled and listened and fell complacent to Steven’s tone just like Marc did, where he really remembered that Steven was an Alpha. He was always so sweet and docile and caring. It was so easy to forget, but when Steven put on his Alpha voice even Jake was just as helpless to it as Marc was.
He could imagine it, the way Steven was now, lounging in his hotel room in whatever city he was currently in, phone pressed against his cheek as he listened to Marc’s whines and moans and Jake’s quiet murmurs of reassurance. He wondered if Steven was touching himself. He wondered if he was just listening. He wondered if Steven wanted to watch, to see what Jake was doing to his Omega even though all Jake had done was hold him.
Jake swallowed and tried to ignore how his cock twitched at the thought.
“You can touch him,” Steven finished. “Can’t he, Marc?”
Marc whined, nodded in agreement, words seemingly lost to him.
He tilted his head back, exposing his throat and the pretty scar that sat at the base of his neck. The scar that Steven put there that first week they came back from the Duat, when Marc had been just as needy and heat drunk as he is now. When Jake left for the week because Marc had wanted nothing to do with him even though everything in him had screamed to stay. That first week when Jake came back and the flat smelled like honeysuckle and myrrh and Jake thought he could get drunk on that scent alone, when he had picked a blanket up off the floor and just held it because it smelled so much like Marc and Steven and Jake didn’t ever want to forget that scent. He wanted to just sit on the floor and pull the blanket over him and stay there because for just a moment that flat smelled like when they had still been together.
“Please—“ Marc rolled his hips again, grinding against Jake’s thigh. Jake didn’t stop him this time. He just watched, completely enamored with the sight before him. Is this what Steven got to see? Marc, so completely vulnerable and open in a way he hadn’t ever let himself be? Jake never got to see this. He had always seen the aftermath, the tears and shaking and crying. This was…if Jake ever forgot the sight of this he thought he would beg Marc and Steven to show him again. “—Jake, please, I need—“
Marc cut himself off with a heady moan as he caught his clit just right, enough slick leaking from his hole now that the fabric of his sleep pants were soaked.
He smelled so sweet, like honeysuckle and dewdrops and Jake just wanted to swallow it all.
“Tell him what you need, love,” Steven said. He let out a soft hum through the crackled static of the phone, an inquisitive lilt to his tone. “Jake can’t help you if you don’t tell him.”
Jake had only been expecting to hold Marc.
He had only been expecting to let Marc scent him just enough until he was calm, and then he would shove Jake away and tell him to leave and Jake would because there was not a thing on this goddamn planet that he wouldn’t do for Marc Spector.
Jake had not been expecting the string of filth that slipped between Marc’s lips. He had not been expecting the way Marc ground his soaking cunt against Jake’s thigh, the way he bit and sucked on Jake’s neck delightfully close to his scent gland. “Want you to put your fingers in me—“ Marc said. “Wanna ride you—want you to make me cum—“
It had to be the heat talking.
It had to be.
“Marc, I—“ Jake swallowed. He was hard now, his cock pressing painfully against the seam of his jeans. It was difficult not to be with a lap full of a squirming Omega and that sweet pre-heat scent making his head dizzy. The bitterness that had clung to Marc’s scent was gone, the scent blockers no longer strong enough to mask it, and all that was left was that sweet, mouth watering honeysuckle. Jake wanted to buck his hips, meet Marc’s thrusts with his own. Jake stayed perfectly still, one hand still buried in Marc’s hair, the other holding his hip. Maybe Jake should just do it. Maybe if Marc took off some of the edge with an orgasm he would have a clearer head. And it wasn’t like Steven wasn’t here and Jake was doing this behind his back. “I don’t want to if you’re not sure—“
“I’m sure, Lockley.” Marc growled, his hands picking at Jake’s shirt. “Get this off—it’s too scratchy–”
“Go ahead, Jake,” Steven said as Jake quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, Marc letting go only long enough for Jake to do so. He didn’t think twice about it. If it felt uncomfortable against Marc’s bare skin–even if the only part of Marc that was touching the shirt was his hands and his jaw as he nipped and sucked at Jake’s neck–then Jake wanted it gone. “You just need to cum, don’t you love? Then you’ll feel better?”
Marc didn’t answer, but Steven wasn’t really looking for one.
“Okay,” Jake murmured. He settled his hands back on Marc’s hips, slipping his hands up and underneath Marc’s own shirt to settle on his bare skin. It was soft and unbelievably warm, his hip bones jutting out just enough for Jake to easily find them. “But if you need me to stop you tell me, si?”
Marc nodded.
He lifted his hands and tanged his fingers in Jake’s hair, tugging impatiently.
“Okay,” Jake repeated. He was still hesitant, but when a low growl built in the back of Marc’s throat and he bit Jake’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood, he took in a deep breath and moved his hands before he could think too hard about it.
He tangled his own fingers in Marc’s curls, roughly pulling Marc’s head back even as he tried to sink his teeth deeper into the meat of his shoulder. His heart pounded and his cock jerked at the sight of Marc’s lips painted a pretty red. “Christ, cielito,” the word slipped out without Jake’s permission, but Jake was too enamored by the way Marc’s tongue darted out to lick away the blood to really notice. He looked like a divine thing like this, sitting in Jake’s lap with blood between his teeth. “Are you always this demanding?”
“Did he bite you?” Steven asked, an amused sort of lilt to his voice.
“Yeah.”
Steven hummed. “There’s a gag in the closet if you don’t want him to.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jake choked out. Then, before he could think too hard about what he was about to do, Jake helped Marc get his pants halfway down his thighs, just enough to give Jake room to work without having to make Marc move. Jake bit back a groan because Marc wasn’t wearing anything else. His thighs were slick and wet and Jake desperately wanted to taste it.
But that’s not what Marc asked him to do.
Jake moved his hand up to Marc’s stomach, keeping his other on his hip to keep him steady. Jake stayed there for a moment, just taking in the sight that was Marc Spector, then moved his hand lower to press against Marc’s cunt. Marc bucked into the touch, digging his fingers into Jake’s shoulders and rolling his hips forward to get Jake’s palm to properly rub against his clit. Jake let Marc rut against him for a moment to set the pace he wanted before slipping a finger in his hole. There was no resistance even with Marc clenching down. “Oh, Marc, look at you,” The words slipped out without Jake’s permission, but he was too hard pressed to care as he watched Marc drop his hips the rest of the way down when Jake didn’t move fast enough. “You’re soaked.”
Marc rocked back and forth, the wet squelching noises seeming far too loud in the otherwise silent flat.
Steven hummed. “Yeah, I can hear it.”
Marc groaned, sinking his teeth into Jake’s shoulder again. Jake pressed his tongue against his cheek to keep from letting out his own groan as Marc gently licked the spot he had just bitten in apology. The rocking of his hips didn’t slow, so Jake pushed another finger in Marc’s cunt and bit his cheek hard enough for the taste of sweet copper to explode across his tongue as Marc let out a loud and sloppy moan.
It was a pretty sound, and for one brief moment Jake found himself viciously jealous that Steven got to hear these noises and not him.
“Marc, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Steven asked. His voice had grown hard again, not angry so much as worried.
Marc let out a low whine, his movements slowing just the tiniest amount.
“He’s not angry, precioso,” Jake murmured, his urge to sooth and reassure the Omega too much to stop the words that spilled from his mouth. Not that it really mattered anymore, Jake supposed. He had already said one too many things he hadn’t meant to, so what did it matter if he said a few more? Jake stroked Marc’s walls, dragging another beautifully sloppy sound from his hole as he pressed his palm a little harder against Marc’s clit and eased another finger in. Three now, but Marc was still rocking his hips and grinding down like it wasn’t nearly enough. “You’re not angry, are you Steven?”
“No, love, of course not,” Steven was quick to reassure. Jake wondered if he should reach for the phone, if he should prop it up and switch it to a video call so Steven could see and Marc could be soothed by the image of Steven and not just his words. Jake didn’t want to dislodge Marc though. He didn’t think he could. Jake was sure Marc would just climb right back up and hold Jake’s hand down so he could fuck himself on Jake’s fingers instead of waiting for Jake to do most of the work. Not that he was doing most of the work now anyway. “I just want to know why you didn’t want to tell me.” A pause, then, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” Marc said quickly. Jake rubbed his thumb into the skin above Marc’s waist, easing away whatever tension was left in his muscles. “I just–” Marc sucked in a breath as he rocked his hips, finally finding that angel that put Jake’s fingers right at that sweet spot. “--didn’t want you to worry.”
“I always worry about you, Marc,” Steven said. Softly. Sweetly. His tone comforting but still firm enough to be disciplinary. He didn’t seem to mind how loud Marc was being now, the wet slide of skin against skin loud and obscene as Marc rode Jake’s fingers hard and fast. “So when it gets this bad again you need to tell me, okay?”
Marc nodded, his lips parted and slick with blood and spit and Jake had a ridiculous urge to tilt his head up and kiss it away.
“Words, Marc,” That hard tone was back in Steven’s voice.
“Okay.” Marc said quickly. He sounded a little out of breath now. He hadn’t once stopped riding Jake’s fingers during this conversation, his pace frantic and wild as he tried to rip his orgasm out of him even in the middle of Steven chastising him. “I will, I promise. I’m sorry.”
Jake could imagine Steven’s smile, sweet and pleased. “It’s alright. Just let Jake take care of you now, yeah? I’ll be back tomorrow night.” Then, “I love you.”
“Love you—“ Marc gasped, rocking his hips forward to grind his clit against Jake’s palm. “Love you so much—“
It felt like too intimate of a moment for Jake to be sitting in on. It felt like a moment that shouldn’t be happening while Marc was fucking himself on Jake’s fingers. It felt like a moment that Jake was intruding on. So he gently eased Marc off his lap, pulling his fingers out of Marc’s dripping cunt because he needed…he needed to look at something that wasn’t Marc. He needed to take a moment and get himself together before he started thinking that Steven had been talking to him too, that he belonged here and that he wasn’t just doing a favor for Marc because he was too close to his heat and he was going to make himself sick if he didn’t get some relief.
“Where—“ Marc struggled to get in a breath. He looked like a startled fawn, sprawled out across the couch with wide dark eyes and flushed cheeks. “Where are you going?”
“Down here,” Jake answered. Marc had gone relaxed and pliant enough that Jake was able to move him the way he wanted, easily getting his sleep pants the rest of the way off before settling in between Marc’s splayed legs. “I want to see if your Alpha was right about how you taste.” Jake swallowed. “If–if that’s okay, cielito.”
Marc moaned and spread his legs a little wider.
“Is he spreading his legs for you?” Steven asked.
Jake hummed, settling his hands on Marc’s thighs to keep them open. “Si.” Marc looked like he was close to losing words entirely, but Jake wouldn’t go any further without explicit permission. He wasn’t sure if it was more for Marc or himself. “I need words, Marc.”
“Yes–” Marc hissed. “--yes, fuck, Jake, just–”
Marc groaned as Jake gently nipped the soft skin of his inner thigh. In an imitation of what Marc had done earlier Jake licked over the spot he just bit to sooth away the sting, swallowing his own groan as he finally got a taste of the slick that had dripped to Marc’s thighs. Jake wasn’t sure if he could ever go back to normal after this, not now that he’s tasted this. Jake bit back his own groan, taking a steadying breath before sinking his teeth into the delicate skin of Marc’s thigh and working in a pretty bruise because he couldn’t fucking help himself.
Marc gasped.
“Good. You’re doing so good,” Steven said, and even though he was talking to Marc Jake still felt a hot spark of arousal in his own stomach. Marc wasn’t the only one desperate to cum, but Jake could damn well ignore it until Marc was happy and sated.
Marc nodded, tangling his fingers in Jake’s hair while lifting his other hand to cover his mouth as Jake bit and sucked a choked off moan from his lips.
“Nuh uh,” Steven tutted like he could see exactly what Marc was doing. “Let me hear you, love.”
Jake felt his own cock twitch at that, and he huffed out a quiet moan before leaning forward, sucking Marc’s hard clit into his mouth as a moan ripped it’s way from Marc’s lips. His hips jerked, his hands flying down to Jake’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair. He pulled Jake closer. Jake went willingly, sliding one hand down to Marc’s calf to pull his leg up and over his shoulder as he pulled away from Marc’s clit, licking his lips before laying his tongue flat over Marc’s hole and dragging it up to his clit. Marc dug his heel into Jake’s back, a sound closer to a shriek than a moan leaving his lips.
Steven had been right.
Marc tasted so sweet.
Jake groaned, tightening his hold on Marc as he slipped his tongue in Marc’s cunt. He licked and sucked, trying to lap up as much of the Omega’s slick as he could because this was going to be the first and only time he would be able to taste it. To swallow it. To drag those pretty sounds out of Marc’s lips with nothing more than his own tounge.
He found himself inexplicably jealous of Steven again, getting to taste Marc like this every day.
“Jake—Jake please, I need—fuck—“
“What do you need, love?” There was Steven’s voice again. He was a steady presence, guiding Marc and Jake though this like he had done it a thousand times before.“Use your words for Jake.”
Jake pulled back to look up at Marc even though Marc was doing his best to keep Jake firmly between his legs. Marc’s chest was heaving, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, his hair sticking to his forehead. His heat was setting in fast, and Jake wasn’t sure if an orgasm would bring it down. Or, if it did, he wasn’t sure how long it would keep Marc sated and clear headed. Not long at all, Jake would imagine, not if Marc was already acting like this.
Steven wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow night and Jake didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.
“I need—fuck, please, I’m so empty—“
“You want my fingers again, precioso?” Jake asked, shelving that problem for later and focusing on the one he had right now.
Marc nodded. He looked like he was going to cry if he didn’t get what he wanted, and Jake couldn’t have that. “I just—anything. Please, just—your fingers, your cock—I don’t care I just want—“
Jake slipped a finger in.
Marc threw his head back, a heady moan slipping back his lips.
Jake watched him with rapt attention as he curled his finger and thrusted it in and out. He wondered if Marc was always this needy or if it was just the heat. He wanted desperately to know. Marc always put up such a cold and stony front, always tried to ignore his basic instincts and push his needs aside, always tried to act like he was anything and everything but an Omega. And to see him like this, fully giving in to what his body wanted and craved, letting his guard down to it’s fullest was— well, Jake wouldn’t call it anything more than a gift.
Jake pushed in a second finger.
Marc’s hips jerked, and Jake slid his hand up Marc’s thigh and settled it on his stomach, holding him still.
“Let me take care of you, cielito,” Jake leaned closer to Marc’s groin, breathing in the scent of slick and heat. He pressed a gentle kiss over one of the bruises he had left behind. “You just stay still.”
Jake pulled his fingers out before thrusting three of them back in.
Steven’s voice broke out over the still static of the phone, sounding strangled and dry as he tried to swallow back a moan. “Bloody hell, Jake, he sounds so wet.”
“You want to see?” Jake asked before he could think better of it. He twisted his finger, dragging another moan from Marc’s lips along with a delightfully obscene sound from Marc’s cunt. “You want to see how wet your Omega gets for another Alpha, Steven?”
Steven was silent for a moment long enough that Jake thought he had just ruined this. He should have just kept his mouth shut. He should have just done what he was told and let Marc use him until he was happy and calm again and then go on with their lives like none of this had ever fucking happened–
“Fuck,” Steven breathed out. “Fuck, Jake, yes.”
Jake took his hand off of Marc’s stomach so he could grab the phone, growling a light warning for him to stay still. It didn’t take much to switch from an audio call to a video call, but he still pointed the camera at the floor until Marc took in a deep breath and nodded. “Jake, let him see–I want him to see–”
When Jake held the phone in front of Marc’s hole he spread his legs wider, a little more slick gushing out.
“Look at you,” Steven crooned. “Gorgeous Omega, so wet for us.”
Marc whined, high and needy. “Steven—“
“Is Jake making you feel good?” Steven asked.
Marc nodded, gasping as Jake started moving his fingers again, twisting and turning before settling his thumb on Marc’s clit. Marc wasn’t going to last much longer, Jake knew that, so he curled his fingers and rubbed Marc’s clit, letting the Omega buck his hips wildly and fuck himself on Jake’s fingers and give Steven a show. And it was a show. Jake was enraptured watching it, at the way Steven cooed filthy words through the static of the phone while Marc fucked himself. Even though Jake was the one with his fingers in Marc’s cunt it seemed like Steven was the one in control and Jake was the one watching, helpless to do anything but observe and watch Marc come apart under Steven’s careful hand.
“Fuck–!” Marc gasped, and then Jake was dropping the phone to hold Marc’s leg still while he worked the Omega through his orgasm.
Jake worked Marc’s clit until he was shaking, until he was pushing Jake away and flopping over onto the couch, chest heaving as he reached blindly for something on the floor. Jake picked up the earlier discarded blanket, thinking that was what Marc wanted, put he pushed it away and hooked his fingers on Jake’s jacket instead.
Jake watched wide eyed as Marc held the jacket to his nose, steadying his breaths until they were deep and even and his eyes were fluttering shut.
Then Jake shook his head and scooped up the phone.
“Sorry,” Jake murmured to Steven’s tiny face. He looked like he was laying in bed–there was a bland tan hotel wall behind him, the corner of a bedside table off to the left, and a gentle orange glow from a bedside lamp the only source of light in the room. Steven had one of his headphones in and a sweet smile on his face and Jake…Jake didn’t know what to do with that look. “Didn’t mean to drop you.”
“I don’t mind,” Steven tilted his head, the image jostling a little as Steven readjusted himself. “Is he okay?”
Jake looked back at Marc. He wasn’t breathing quite as hard anymore, and he looked pretty fucking pleased with himself. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Steven hummed, then, “Are you okay?”
Jake blinked dumbly. “I’m fine.”
Steven didn’t look like he believed him. He frowned, opened his mouth to say something, but then he snapped it shut and looked at something off camera as his lips twisted into a scowl. He looked annoyed. Irritated. Khonshu, must be then. Jake all of a sudden wished Steven was here and he was there, so he could deal with Khonshu instead and Steven could take care of Marc because that was the way it was supposed to be. Jake wasn’t…Jake didn’t get to have this. “Sorry, the stupid pigeon is–”
“Go,” Jake said gently. “Marc will be okay, I promise.”
Steven snapped his eyes back to him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the call abruptly cut off. Khonshu must be impatient tonight.
Jake set the phone back on the table, letting out a long sigh. He could still taste Marc on the back of his tongue. He was still painfully hard. But Jake could ignore it. He would ignore it. He had only done this to give Marc enough relief so he wouldn’t get sick and make things worse. It hadn’t been about him and what he wanted.
“Alright–” Jake stood with a wince, scooping Marc up and off the couch before he could realize what was happening. “--time for bed.”
Marc’s eyes flew open, but instead of getting angry and embarrassed like Jake thought he would, Marc closed his eyes again and held Jake’s jacket a little closer and tilted his head so he could rest it on Jake’s shoulder. Jake’s heart skipped and stuttered and he hurried to the bed before he could get any ideas because he didn’t get to have this. He just…he just didn’t. That’s the way it had been and that was the way it always would be. So Jake gently placed Marc on his and Steven’s bed and didn’t even think of taking his jacket back as he turned around to go find a damp washcloth so he could at least clean the sticky slick and cum off of Marc’s legs, but then Marc reached out and caught Jake’s wrist and Jake’s entire world screeched to a halt.
“Will you stay?” Marc asked softly.
Jake stilled, but he didn’t dare turn around. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Marc–”
“Please?” Marc cut him off. He sounded small. Not frightened or scared, but more uncertain. LIke he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask but he was going to anyway.
Jake closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him, because there wasn’t a goddamn thing on this Earth Jake Lockley wouldn’t do for Marc Spector. “Okay.” Jake said quietly. “I’ll–I’ll stay.”
Marc’s hold on his wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go.
“Just let me go get something to clean you with,” it felt like a plea. Like Jake was on his knees begging Marc to let him go for just a moment so he could gather himself back together and put up his own walls. Because this was never going to happen again and Jake couldn’t bare to get his hopes up only to have them shattered the next day. “Unless you like the feeling of dry cum on your legs.”
Marc still didn’t let go. “You’ll come back?”
It was just the pre-heat talking.
That was it.
“I’ll come back.” Jake promised.