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For reasons unknown to Soap, Ghost had taken up the habit of riding his heats out on base. The Scot didn’t know exactly when it had started, but by the third or fourth time he learned that Ghost had stayed with them instead of leaving and holing up in his flat, he realized that it had become a part of the lieutenant’s new routine.
And that was… fine.
It really was.
It was none of Soap’s concern anyway. All the rooms on base were, by military standard, scent-proof, so it wasn’t like it was impacting Soap’s work. Hell, he only knew that Ghost wasn’t leaving for them anymore, because the lieutenant was suddenly available immediately after his heats ended, and right up until his heats hit fully. There was no lag anymore, on either end. Soap was suddenly able to very clearly determine what Ghost smelled like during his heat, through tiny glimpses, before he disappeared into his room, or before his post-heat body fully regulated back to his normal scent. Those tiny glimpses weren’t enough to cause any real trouble, but they were driving Soap a little crazy privately.
At the core of the issue that, Soap reminded himself, wasn’t an issue, was that Ghost’s actions were sparking his rut much more frequently. Soap normally only experienced a rut once or twice a year, and it had been that way since he had presented. He would find himself itching for a fight more and more as the days passed, and once he consciously clocked the change in his own behavior, he would find someone willing to get a little rough, hole up for a day or two, and then be done with it.
He knew some alphas that got them more frequently, and for longer periods, but he had always been lucky with it. He was never out of commission long because of it, and he had never had it interfere on a mission or with his other duties for as long as he’d been in the army.
Now, with Ghost around, it felt like his body was trying to make up for lost time. He was rutting badly, practically every time Ghost disappeared for a heat leave. He was punchier than normal almost all the time now. He kept catching himself wanting to run his hands along random surfaces around base to spread his scent. It had gotten so out of hand, that he had even been noticeably more touchy with Ghost, throwing playful jabs, or nudges, or fist-bumps any time he was allowed.
Even the irritation and absurdity of all of that would have been fine, except that Ghost’s heats seemed to be hitting him more frequently, too. Ghost used to have his heats roughly quarterly – not that Soap had been tracking them – but they were closer to once a month now. It felt like they barely got to spend any time together anymore, since they were either out on a mission, or one or both of them were holed up in their rooms.
The thought struck Soap, and not for the first time, that it might help if he could have something to help him through his rut. Maybe if he gave his body something closer to what it was craving, closer to the omega, it would relent a bit. And maybe, maybe he could help Ghost too. They didn’t have to fuck. That wasn’t legal, appropriate, or ever going to happen, but the scent alone might be enough. Maybe Soap could bring him an article of his clothing to add to his nest, and if he agreed, maybe Ghost would allow him to take something of his. Just to borrow. Just to take the edge off.
Much like the other times the thought crossed his mind, Soap dismissed it. Swapping articles, even temporarily, and even once, could be considered inappropriate. It wasn’t outright prohibited, but it was very borderline. It was unseemly. No matter how casually, or logically he pitched it, Ghost would likely see it as a come-on.
An even more pathetic thought crossed Soap’s mind, that told him he could always steal something. A small article of bedding or clothing… Not to keep, of course, and he’d wash his scent out before he returned it. If the lieutenant was less observant, less strictly organized, and owned more personal effects, Soap might have tried it.
As it was, Soap stalked around his room, straightening things that were already straightened, cleaning things that were already cleaned, and trying not to think about the fact that he’d probably be facing down another rut sooner than he’d get another mission.
For the first time in his life, he actually would have preferred the latter.
_ _ _
A few days had passed, and there would be a few more that would pass before Ghost’s heat started, but Soap could already feel himself getting punchy from his impending rut. He was irritable over the slightest things, and even about nothing. He’d be sitting in the mess eating with Gaz, and the way the man’s teeth scraped his fork would make Soap’s eye twitch. He would watch Price lick his thumb before flipping through some papers he was about to hand to him, and he wouldn’t be able to keep the curl of disgust off of his face. Tiny things were setting him off in a big way, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“What’s the problem, Johnny?”
“L.t?” Soap asked weakly, already having a pretty good sense of where Ghost was going, despite the complete lack of context.
“The problem. Your problem.”
“No problems here, sir,” Soap said, shooting the lieutenant an award winning smile. It was a smile that had worked on many people, many times in his life.
Sadly for him, Ghost was not one of those people.
“Something crawled up your arse and died recently, Sergeant,” Ghost said, looking at him with an almost bored expression. “I’m just trying to find out what.”
It wasn’t an order to speak, but it might as well be. Once Ghost locked onto something, he didn’t let it drop until he was satisfied. It was great quality for a soldier, who was expected not to half-ass things, however it put Soap into a tight spot. He couldn’t exactly admit that he seemed to be reacting very strongly to his lieutenant’s heats. That wasn’t the sort of news that went over well.
Evidently, Soap spent too long going over his options for a response, because his stream of thought was cut off by Ghost sighing.
“You need to hit the mats. Clear your head. Work off whatever it is that is making you such a prick.”
“Aye, sir? You volunteering yourself?” Soap asked before his brain could catch up with him, and why that activity might not be the greatest idea for him with his body as on-edge as it was.
Before he could walk it back, or laugh it off, Ghost was speaking.
“That’s right, Johnny,” Ghost said, smoothly, still looking totally unaffected by the conversation, and the prospect of a fight. “Except for the bit about this being ‘volunteer’ work. I want something in payment for helping you fix your problem.”
Soap grinned as he recognized his own words thrown back at him. It had become something of a running joke between them, since Las Almas. Anything they did was suddenly ‘to fix the other’s problem.’
As it was, it had Soap unthinkingly lowering his guard enough that the worst possible response came out.
“Sure. Anything.”
That did get Ghost to raise an eyebrow.
“Anything?” Ghost parroted. “Generous, Johnny. And here I was, about to ask you for just your hoodie.”
Soap could almost hear himself mentally bluescreen.
“My hoodie, sir?” Soap asked, weakly. “Why? You decided tae try out wearing yer clothing a few sizes too small?”
Ghost huffed a quiet laugh, even though the quip wasn’t particularly funny.
“It’s not to wear, Johnny. I’ve got enough clothes, and it isn’t exactly… my style.”
Or color, Soap thought, privately amused as he tried to imagine Ghost wearing his bright blue hoodie, which was probably 3 sizes too small for him.
Ghost’s next words cut straight through his internal musings again, and somehow caught Soap even further off-guard.
“I’ve been getting my heat more frequently recently. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Ghost said plainly and straight to the point, as if this was a totally normal and acceptable thing for them to talk about. “Medical says that ‘aving an alpha’s scent around might help it a bit. At this point, I’m inclined to try.”
There was a beat of silence as Soap struggled to wrangle down his instincts, roaring in victory that Ghost had come to him with the request. Once Soap had gotten more of a hold on himself, he started to shrug the hoodie off.
Ghost stopped him.
“L.t?”
“Your rut’s soon too, ‘that right?”
“Aye, it is,” Soap said, trying to keep a straight face. “Right around the corner.”
“And that’s more frequently too. More than your usual.”
The tips of Soap’s ears burned. All he wanted to do was drag Ghost back to his room and show him just how much he had fucked up his rut schedule-
“It is,” Soap confirmed. “You going to give me something of yours then, sir? Make it a trade, and help us both out?”
Ghost made a small faux-considering noise, and Soap wanted to lean forward and bite his throat. He felt himself literally salivate at the thought. His heart was pounding.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a wager than an exchange.”
Soap was going to bite him. He was going to wrap a hand around his throat, and force him back against the wall right in the middle of this bloody hallway-
“A wager over sparring? Winner gets an item scented by the loser?”
“Well, I’ll be getting something, yes. Your hoodie, specifically.”
Soap grinned.
“You’d have to win first, L.t. That’s no guarantee against an alpha on the edge of a rut.”
Ghost snorted.
“Only knothead alphas actually think that gives them an edge. I could beat you while in full heat, Johnny.”
Soap only just barely caught himself about to purr that ‘he’d like to see Ghost try.’ There was something dark in Ghost’s eyes as Soap cleared his throat instead and redirected.
“And what do I get when I win, sir?”
Ghost made another thoughtful noise, undercut by amusement.
“What do you want?”
You.
“Yer mask.”
“Deal.”
There was no hesitation at all on Ghost’s part. The omega hadn’t even given him the slightest opening for Soap to think to himself that ‘there was no way Ghost would agree to give up the mask,’ or anything along those lines. In an instant, it was set. Soap felt a bit wrongfooted about it.
Ghost stepped around him, and Soap wordlessly fell into step at his side. The pair made their way to the gym. Soap, for his part, very carefully did not consider how bad of an idea he was participating in. How stupid it was for him to be fighting Ghost when he was already so whipped up…
But he would win the mask, and he would have it for his rut.
And if that was the closest he was ever going to get to having Ghost, then he would happily take it.
_ _ _
Despite the fact that he felt like vibrating out of his skin, Soap forced himself to take his time stretching and warming up, and he watched carefully as Ghost did the same. He didn’t even try all that hard to make it look like he was being strategic about it, and sizing his opponent up. He was simply staring. Admiring. He was an alpha on the cusp of entering his rut. If he looked a little, at the wall of warm looking skin, and thick, rippling muscles, then Ghost would just have to forgive him. It wasn’t like Ghost didn’t know.
And it wasn’t like Ghost wasn’t watching him closely back.
“Almost through over there, Johnny?” Ghost said, cutting through the tense little staring match.
“Ready when you are, L.t.”
Ghost made a small considering sound in the back of his throat, as he dropped the arms he had been stretching.
“Just checking you didn’t get cold feet.”
“No cold feet, but Ah ken yer going to be gettin’ a cold face when Ah get that mask from you.”
“Ha.”
Ghost stepped up onto the mat, and Soap followed him over, fighting back the urge to grab the omega’s hips and bury his face in the back of his neck. He would behave, he would get the mask, and then head back to his room for a nice, long wa-
“You solid?”
“Aye, sir,” Soap responded, snapping to attention, and instinctively falling into stance.
And that was all the warning Ghost gave before he pounced. Admittedly, that did catch Soap off-guard. Generally, when the two of them were sparring, Ghost would circle and wait him out. Soap, the less patient of the two, always struck first.
Soap barely kept his feet under him as he redirected Ghost’s hit, and spun away from him. Ghost didn’t hesitate at all in launching back in at him, and again Soap was forced on the defensive.
“Yer quick today, sir. Awful keen on gettin’ ma hoodie then, aye?” Soap asked when again he was on solid ground.
It was difficult to tell with the mask, but Soap swore he saw Ghost grin.
“You try ‘aving your heat every month, Johnny, and tell me how you like it.”
“Och, doon’t say that, L.t. You’ll make me feel a wee bit bad when Ah win and yer still stuck without ma hoodie,” Soap said, deflecting another hit which the lieutenant had tried to get in while he’d been distracted with his taunting.
“Still think you’re going to win,” Ghost said, in a voice of mock disappointment.
In a move so quick that Soap barely even saw it happening, Ghost’s leg darted out and caught behind his. Soap was on his back on the floor, staring up at Ghost’s towering form before he knew it.
And Ghost was laughing.
Soap couldn’t hear it, but he could see the slight tell-tale shaking, and he watched it, stunned.
“Sloppy, MacTavish,” Ghost all but purred, staring down at him.
It was like flicking a switch.
It was just like in his fucking fantasies. That was exactly what Ghost said to him in his head when he jerked off. In an instant, Soap can’t think beyond the possibility that, somehow, Ghost knew. Somehow he could see straight through to Soap’s desires and was mocking him for them. That this whole thing was a set-up to humiliate him.
And Soap saw red.
He wasn’t sure how he managed it, but from one second to the next, he was on his back, and then Ghost was on the ground. Ghost was under him, but he wasn’t pinned on his front. He was on his back, and he was facing him head-on. Everything else about his posture was closed-off, but not aggressive. It was submissive. He was trying to get Soap’s attention, without drawing any from the rest of the gym. Soap watched the fabric of Ghost’s mask move, and realized he was saying something. He hadn’t been able to hear over the blood rushing in his ears.
“What?” Soap snapped, struggling to make sense out of even his own voice.
“Johnny, you are starting your rut early. You need to take a breath and calm down,” Ghost said in a voice that was low and clear, but urgent.
A denial was on the tip of his tongue, when Soap took a mental stock of his body.
And found that he was damn near hard enough to cut diamonds.
And pressing right up against Ghost’s thigh.
Jesus fucking wept.
Soap flung himself away as if Ghost had electrocuted him, but there was no mistaking what had just happened. He didn’t have a gun in the pocket of his gym shorts. If Ghost really had been trying to humiliate him, then mission fucking accomplished.
Except, it didn’t look like that was the case, really, and aside from a few odd glances he had gotten when he’d shot to his feet, he didn’t have an audience watching him. The only one still looking at him was Ghost, who was watching him with a strange, unreadable expression behind his stupid mask.
Abruptly, Ghost looked away and went to stand, and Soap scrambled back further on the mat to get out of his way. Ghost sent him another indecipherable look before turning on his heel.
“On me, Johnny.”
There was no room for argument. Soap tucked his metaphorical tail between his legs, and his literal dick in his waistband and followed.
Soap was more or less expecting Ghost to walk them straight to Price’s office to report him, but they were heading in the wrong direction for that. It looked like they were heading toward their rooms, but that didn’t really make sense. Maybe Ghost wanted to grab something from his room first?
Sure enough, Ghost stopped him outside of his room.
“Wait here.”
Soap couldn’t summon up a response with how badly his stomach was churning. Ghost turned and entered the room, reappearing less than a minute later. He didn’t appear to be carrying anything, and Soap fought hard to keep a blank face. Ghost tipped his head and they started moving again.
Surely, this time Ghost was bringing them to Price’s office.
Then they stopped outside of Soap’s door. Despite himself, Soap felt his brows pinch together as his face pulled in a frown.
“L.t?”
“You gonna let us in, Sergeant? Or are we gonna do this here?”
Soap blanked.
He felt himself turn automatically, and let them into his room, but his mind was far, far away. What the hell did Ghost plan on here? It clearly wasn’t what Soap thought it was.
The pair took a few steps into the tiny room, and Ghost closed the door behind them. Ghost locked it too, but Soap knew better than to expect that to mean something. Ghost automatically locked the door for everything. He had stopped by to drop off paperwork for him to sign, and despite being in the room for a grand total of 30 seconds, he had locked the door the second he’d crossed the threshold. So, no, Soap didn’t get his hopes up then.
It was when Ghost reached for his own balaclava that Soap’s brows shot up on his face.
“Sir?”
“This was the bet, wasn’t it, Sergeant?” Ghost said, matter-of-factly. “My mask if you won.”
Soap’s jaw practically hit the floor as he caught on.
“I- You’re still… You’re still going to give me your mask, sir?”
Ghost paused.
“You change your mind then, Joh-”
“No!” Soap said in a rush. “Ah just… ”
“Just what?”
Soap bit his lip, struggling to think of a diplomatic way to put it.
“Ah would have thought you’d be uncomfortable now, sir. What with… how I reacted.”
Ghost blinked at him again, and his eyes narrowed as if he thought that Soap had said something particularly stupid.
“It’s your rut, Sergeant. I’m an omega. It’s not complicated.”
It is though. It is different now.
“And it’s just your heat, sir,” Soap said, unable to stop himself from taking a deep breath as he detected the faintest whiffs of heat scent coming from the lieutenant. He hadn’t noticed them while they had been sparring or walking, so it must have just started.
It looked like Ghost was starting his cycle early too.
“Not yet, it isn’t,” Ghost said, dismissively, pulling the mask the rest of the way off.
Now, it wasn’t that Soap hadn’t seen Ghost’s face before, but it also wasn’t like it was a common sight either. On the few occasions that Soap had seen his face, he had always allowed himself to stare at Ghost’s dark eyes, and slightly squashed blond curls, never knowing when he’d be graced with the sight again.
This time, Soap kept his own eyes carefully away from the tempting sight, settling his gaze on the door handle over Ghost’s left shoulder. Even without looking directly, Soap could see that Ghost didn’t simply hand the fabric over to him. He brought it up to his own neck and swiped it across his scent glands, soaking the material even further in his scent. Soap cursed the way his dick twitched in response.
The fabric wasn’t going to smell like anything but cum by the time Soap was done with it-
“Been wearing this one since yesterday, so it should smell strongly enough,” Ghost said casually, as he held up the mask to dangle in the open air between them.
Soap took the mask carefully from the lieutenant, resisting the urge to immediately bury his face in it to check. He wasn’t sure what the rules of propriety were for this sort of situation, but waiting for the man to leave before getting off to it seemed like the more appropriate response.
Wordlessly, Soap turned and placed the mask directly on his pillow, hoping that the scent might rub off there too. As he turned back to the lieutenant, he shrugged out of the hoodie, and rubbed it over his own scent glands briefly before holding it out to Ghost.
Ghost made no move to take it, and when Soap dared a glance up, he saw that the lieutenant was frowning.
“It’s fer yer nest,” Soap said, giving the fabric a little shake to prompt Ghost to take it from him. “Fer yer heat. Ah ken you said we’d do a wager, but it makes no sense to make things harder on ourselves.”
“I have a better idea,” Ghost said abruptly, finally taking the hoodie before turning and placing it off to the side on Soap’s desk.
“What’s that, sir?”
“We fix each other’s problems.”
With that, Ghost leaned forward and for a wild second, Soap thought he was going to kiss him. He honestly wasn’t that far off. Ghost leaned down and the sergeant gasped as he pressed his bare face to Soap’s skin right next to his scent gland. He was scenting himself. On Soap. Directly.
Soap actually got a little lightheaded at how fast his blood raced south.
“Sir,” Soap said in a wobbly voice as Ghost’s lips grazed over his scent gland. “I really think you should leave now.”
Before I throw you down on my cot and ram into you.
“You solid, Johnny?” Ghost mumbled against his neck, sounding wholly unconcerned about the tenuous grasp Soap had on his self-control. He had to know what he was doing to Soap. Hell, he could surely feel Soap shaking as he struggled to suppress his instincts, and yet he still stood there, with his breath fanning hot against his neck.
“Aye, but not fer long,” Soap admitted through clenched teeth.
“All I need is now.”
“I’m solid, Ghost.”
Ghost hummed and pulled away from the crook of his neck. Before Soap could mourn the loss, Ghost was sliding hands up to the back of Soap’s head, and pulling his face down toward his collar.
Soap didn’t even try to stop himself from rubbing his face in hard to the area he’d been directed to. He didn’t stop himself as he took deep lungfuls of Ghost’s scent, moaning openly as it flooded his senses, and turned his brain to so much mush. He tried and failed at stopping his tongue from darting out and licking along the omega’s scent gland.
He successfully stopped himself from biting down.
But only barely.
“Are you solid, s- sir?” Soap slurred, trying to pull himself away.
Maybe he had been mistaken. Maybe Ghost’s heat fogged his brain before it was obvious to others. Maybe Soap should just be happy with the mask-
Ghost snorted, and forcibly buried Soap’s face back into his neck.
“Solid as I ever get, Johnny.”
Soap really couldn’t help himself much after that. He turned abruptly and bit down into Ghost’s neck, right next to his scent gland. It was so close. So close to where he desperately wanted to bite that his lips were just brushing against the spot while his teeth sank off to the side. Ghost’s scent was so strong there, Soap had to fight back the instinct to clamp down harder. He wanted to dig deeper. He wanted to reach blood.
He pulled back after a minute, easing his teeth back and silently he started his fretting. Ghost had told him that he was clear-headed. Not that he had wanted to be mauled. The lieutenant might not appreciate being marked so blatantly-
“You call that a bite, Sergeant?” Ghost said derisively, cutting off Soap’s train of thought.
Soap instantly turned and bit down harder, right next to the other mark. Ghost exhaled sharply as though caught by surprise, but he recovered quickly.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Ghost continued, in the same, mocking tone as he raised a hand up to try and tug Soap backward by his hair. “You must not be rutting after all if that is all you’ve got for me.”
Soap growled and bit down even harder, sinking his teeth in and pulling back a bit for good measure. Ghost moaned and Soap did it again, and again until Ghost’s neck, chin, and collar were a mottled mess of flushed skin, saliva, and teeth marks. The one remaining unblemished spot was the omega’s scent gland, which had never looked so perfect. So enticing…
As though sensing the very dangerous line of thinking Soap had started to entertain, Ghost’s hand suddenly cupped under his chin and forced his gaze back up. Their eyes met, and the distraction worked. Suddenly, Soap couldn’t think about anything other than Ghost’s pretty blond lashes standing out so beautifully against the smudge of black greasepaint around his eyes.
His cum would stand out perfectly against the eyeblack too.
Actually, Ghost’s whole face would look so pretty smeared with it.
Soap’s eyes trailed down to the omega’s lips, and he found himself leaning forward to kiss the man. For a moment, Soap really had intended on kissing him gently. He had imagined kissing Ghost for a very long time, and he had always imagined taking his time with it to really indulge and explore, but his rut wasn’t exactly inspiring the romantic in him, and soon enough Soap was biting and pulling at Ghost’s lips too. Soap’s new goal was to see just how red and swollen he could get Ghost’s mouth to look.
Ghost’s fist tightened in his hair again, and the lieutenant pulled him back roughly by it, ignoring the way he hissed.
Soap tried to blink away the lust enough to focus in on Ghost’s words. It was difficult when every fiber of his body was telling him to rut against the omega and bite him while he did so. Somehow, Soap managed it, and Ghost’s words rang clearly through his head.
“I was hoping you’d be more controlled so we could put that mouth to good use. Clearly, you are too much of an untrained mutt for that.”
Soap tugged fruitlessly against Ghost’s hold as the implications of how he could be using his mouth if he was ‘good’ sank in.
“I’ll be good-”
“No,” Ghost said, cutting him off before he could plead his case. “I don’t think you will be.”
Ghost punctuated the statement by sticking a finger in Soap’s face that the sergeant couldn’t help but bite. Soap frowned as he realized that he wasn’t exactly helping his case and he carefully released the digit from between his teeth and started suckling at it instead.
Ghost simply smiled that barely-there smile at him, and Soap was practically frothing. He tried to pull off so he could kiss him again. He could be controlled. He could be gentle. He could be anything he needed to, in order to get his mouth on Ghost’s cock-
The lieutenant’s hand on the back of his head stopped him from pulling back off of his finger though, so he could be none of those things.
“Maybe once you’ve had your knot in me a time or two, I’ll think about letting you blow me. That should help you calm down enough to behave.”
Ghost’s hand dropped from the back of his head, and he allowed Soap to pull off of the finger he had had in his mouth. The sergeant stepped back and tried to pull Ghost to fall back onto the bed with him, but Ghost resisted.
“Sir?”
“Go ahead, Johnny. But if you want it, you have to take it.”
Soap felt himself freeze and then grin. His muscles were still loose from earlier, and he could feel the adrenaline from his rut buoying him in a big way. Soap grabbed Ghost and forced his uncooperative body down onto the cot. Ghost was smelling more and more like an omega in heat, and Soap was both surprised and pleased to see that the lieutenant was still able to fight him so hard. Maybe it hadn’t just been talk earlier when Ghost had mentioned being able to beat him in a fight even on his heat.
That line of thinking was interrupted, ironically, when the sergeant was forced to dodge an elbow aimed for his face. He grinned wider at the near miss, and used the lieutenant’s momentum to pin his the omega on his front and twist his arm behind his back. When the man squirmed, he pinned him tighter and tighter until Ghost let out a warning hiss.
Soap took a moment then to just enjoy the feeling of Ghost struggling against him. The sergeant rutted his clothed cock against the gym pants covering the omega’s ass, enjoying the grind of wet cloth against his aching prick.
Soap went to pull Ghost’s pants down, but when he released Ghost’s arm to do so, the man struck out at him, glancing a blow to his jaw. He hadn’t been able to get much momentum in his position, so the strike hadn’t hurt particularly, but Soap growled all the same. He leaned over and, just like he had done in his fantasies, he bit harshly at the back of the omega’s neck.
Ghost instinctively went limp beneath him. Soap took advantage, and quickly sat back to strip the omega’s pants and boxers. Ghost started coming around from his daze as Soap dropped the clothing onto the floor, and in the same instant Ghost was already making to push himself back upright. Soap re-pinned Ghost’s arm behind his back, and then bit the back of his neck again for good measure. The omega moaned softly beneath him, relaxing again, and Soap ground his hips forward.
His gym shorts and boxers were the only layers of fabric between them. Both layers quickly soaked through with the amount of slick Ghost was leaking, and the silky glide spread the mess everywhere. Ghost’s heat was hitting far harder than before. He wouldn’t be this wet otherwise.
Soap tore his gaze away from Ghost’s slicked hole to see the lieutenant rubbing his face against his pillow. He was going under, Soap could see it, and he was comforting himself with Soap’s scent as he did so.
Soap dropped his tight grip on Ghost’s arm, and instead guided Ghost’s hips up so the lieutenant could slide into a presentation posture. Ghost’s right leg twitched like it was going to snap back and kick him, but Soap gripped tightly at the back of his neck and Ghost fell pliant again.
Ghost shifted his weight a few times, when Soap sat back to shuck his own shorts off to be dropped over the side of the bed with the rest of their clothing. The lieutenant was still shifting his weight around, and Soap rubbed soothing circles at the base of his spine while he lined himself up. He started pushing in, drawing sighs of relief from both of them.
And Ghost took him so well. In his fantasy, Ghost had been tougher, fighting even as Soap fucked into him, but one look at Ghost’s flushed face, still rubbing absent and slack-jawed against his sheets, told Soap the fight was over. He had won.
Soap pulled back and the first real snap of his hips had him sinking in all the way down to his knot. Ghost simply sighed again and spread his hips wider, trying to encourage Soap in deeper.
Instead, Soap pulled back and re-straightened Ghost’s hips.
The lieutenant whined softly beneath him.
“Alpha-”
“Now who’s not controlled, Omega?” Soap taunted, squeezing harder at Ghost’s hips. “Can’t even keep yer hips up for me?”
“Mmph. Johnny…”
Soap pressed in further, forcing the edge of his knot in. Again Soap was surprised by the lack of resistance. Ghost was tight around him, sure, and his whining picked up in volume, but he didn't try to squirm away.
But then again, he didn’t know what he was in for yet.
Soap paused there, rubbing more at Ghost’s lower back, at his hips, at his calves… He did everything he could to ease the tension Ghost was still carrying, and the omega rewarded him by melting even further into his cot. If Soap could be bothered to lean forward and pull Ghost’s head up off the bed, he was sure he would find the man drooling, all nice and malleable for him. Soap ground gently in place until he saw Ghost’s fists – the last visible point of tension – unclench from the sheets. Then, Soap took a breath, brought both hands back to hold Ghost’s hips in place, and snapped his own hips forward.
Ghost let out a strangled gasp beneath him, and his hips finally did try to twitch away as Soap’s knot was forced deep into him, but they moved to no avail. Soap white-knuckle gripped at the omega’s hips, keeping Ghost from pulling away. Really, he was trying to keep both of them from moving. The pleasure was overwhelming and Soap was afraid for what he might do if Ghost pulled away from him just then.
Ghost’s fists clenched and unclenched in the sheets as he struggled to adjust. Soap ground his teeth together as he struggled to watch Ghost struggle and not attempt to make it worse. After what felt like an eternity later, the omega sighed and went lax beneath him again.
As soon as Soap didn’t feel like he was about to burst, he tentatively started easing his hips back.
His knot popped back out.
He forced it back in.
Ghost sighed against his sheets.
Soap started up a rhythm.
In and out. In and out.
A drip of sweat ran down his face and dripped onto Ghost’s back. Soap dove after it with his tongue, and ended up leaving half a dozen new bites along Ghost’s skin.
In and out. In and out.
The scent gland in Ghost’s neck seemed to glint in the shitty lamplight of the room. Soap’s mouth filled with saliva at the thought of digging his teeth into it properly. At the thought of Ghost’s blood heavy with his scent splashing against Soap’s tongue.
In and out. In and out.
At some point, Ghost had shuffled down, likely trying to get friction on his cock against the mattress. Soap growled like a feral animal as he hauled Ghost back up into position. He quickly slid a hand around to grip at Ghost before he could think to be disobedient again. Ghost mewled like the omegas in bad porn videos always did, only this time Soap didn’t find it pathetic. If anything, it had his hips stuttering badly as he danced dangerously close to the edge. The fact that Ghost had made that sound. The fact that he was the one who had made Ghost sound like that.
Soap wasn’t even thrusting in him anymore. He was grinding desperately, and his hand was a blur on Ghost’s cock. He was so close- He was so fucking close.
“Alpha!” Ghost cried, clenching down hard around him as his body went rigid. Soap could smell Ghost cumming. The omega’s release was all over his sheets.
Soap’s climax took him like an explosion. He gasped and there was a ringing in his ears, and it felt like half his body was pouring away into the omega below him. Ghost was whimpering from the overstimulation, even as his body milked Soap’s cock for all that it was worth, clenching down rhythmically in order to take it all in.
The sound of panting filled Soap’s ears first, and it took him a minute to realize that it was his own ragged breathing overtaking the quiet of the room. Ghost said something, and Soap blinked stupidly down at him.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Are you finished?’”
“What? No, ma rut will be going for a few-”
“Cumming,” Ghost clarified, monotonously as though he hadn’t just been drooling and cumming onto Soap’s sheets himself. “Are you done?”
“Oh,” Soap said, shifting minutely and trying to take stock of his body. As he did so, he realized that his fingers were dug in deep into the fat of Ghost’s hips, and his nails had left a series of small crescent cuts. He hissed as he saw the damage, but Ghost didn’t so much as bat an eye. He didn’t verbally break his stride either.
“I’m trying to determine how long I’ll be stuck in this stupid bloody pose for. This is murder on the back.”
“Christ, sorry, L.t,” Soap replied, shifting back as far as his knot would allow him and gracelessly turning them over to lay spooned together on their sides. “Give it a couple minutes and it’ll go down.”
Ghost hummed but didn’t immediately respond with anything else, and Soap couldn’t stop himself from filling the silence.
“How are you feeling?”
He expected a number of answers to that particular question. ‘Sore’ was one of them. Something sarcastic was another. A simple ‘fuck you,’ was an imminently plausible third.
“Better,” Ghost said, simply.
“Better?”
“Yeah. Less desperate.”
Once he had said the words out loud, Soap realized that he felt the same. It felt like some perpetual weight he hadn’t realized he had been carrying had suddenly been lifted a bit. He still felt hot, and his rut was definitely going to make him go a few more rounds, but he didn’t have that volatile, desperate edge that had haunted him for months. Getting together must actually have helped him. Helped them.
“Me too,” Soap said, giddily. “I feel better too.”
Ghost snorted.
“You should. Damn near came an entire gallon in me.”
Soap’s spent cock twitched at the thought.
“You think so?”
“No,” Ghost said, bluntly. “And go to sleep. My heat only gives us a few minutes of downtime this early on, and I don’t intend to spend them bullshitting with you.”
Soap settled down and shut his eyes before the meaning hit him.
“Wait a few minutes?”
“You heard me.”
“My knot will just be going down by that point!”
“You wanted this, Sergeant. Better figure something out.”
Soap cursed to himself and let his head fall back to the pillow. He really did need to rest then.
He was evidently in for a long night.