Archive of Our Own

Oscar thinks that all morning should start exactly like this one. He should be woken up slowly in a haze of peppermint, lavender, and smoke by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. There should not be the blair at an alarm at stupid o’clock before the sun has even risen, and there should be at least one set of arms around him, maybe two if he’s lucky.

And today he’s lucky.

He’s chest to chest with his omega, cradling each other close. Lando’s arms are hooked under his with the Birt’s large hands splaying across his back. His omega’s other alpha is reaching over the both of them, with Carlos’ hand slotted comfortably on his waist.

Oscar rumbles happily, letting his eyes fall back shut as he basks in this soft early morning.

He opens his eyes again, when he feels the hand at his side twitch, and grip him lightly. He blinks up at Carlos over the top of Lando’s head, but the Spaniard is still asleep.

Oscar doesn’t know exactly what he is the Carlos. After that one time with the double dicking of Lando’s hole, the two of them never got around to talking. But whatever they were now, it felt a lot more intimate than ‘My Omega’s Other Alpha’ as he had been calling Carlos before.

Now he’s Carlos’.

“But Carlos’ what? And what is Carlos to me?”

Carlos has gotten more tactile. Where before, him and Oscar would do the eye talking thing, and orbit their shared omega accordingly, these days Carlos will put his hands on Oscar and move him around.

Oscar wishes he could say he minds, but even when they were ‘talking’ during scenes, Oscar would defer to Carlos everytime. He’d move to where he thought Carlos wanted him, and it’s admittedly nice to have to guess anymore. To just have Carlos move him around the nests Lando builds for them. Less guess work, because Oscar can’t actually read Carlos’ mind, no matter how much it sometimes feels like he can.

He grumbles to himself.

“Too early for this much thinking. This is what I get for waking up early. Time to wonder.”

He curls his arms tighter around Lando.

If there’s one thing he can appreciate about being up early, it’s that he’s afforded the ability to watch his pretty omega sleep. Lando looks so peaceful when he’s down for the count, unlike the hyper ball of energy he turns into when he’s awake. He looks so calm like this, tucked between two chests, two sets of arms, about four million pillows, and his five favourite blankets. He also still looks entirely dubached after the scene the three of them had had the night before.

They’d taken Lando from both sides: Oscar is his mouth, Carlos in his hole. Oscar rumbles just thinking about it.

He breathes in deep, inhaling the swirl of peppermint, lavender, and smoke.

He can’t help but smile as he pictures the face Lando had made when Carlos finally knotted him after doing his best to hold out for as long as he could. Oscar never understood how Carlos could stand it, telling Lando no, or even just that he had to wait. Oscar could never do it; he folded too easily, but he could appreciate how good Lando sounded when he begged.

Begged to be filled. Begged to be fucked. Begged to stay plugged up.

Oscar chuckles.

Lando has a think about their cum: it has to end up in either his mouth, or his hole, or the omega was going to throw a fit. Then, he needs to be kept plugged up for as long as possible to keep him happy.

Oscar has no shame in admitting that Carlos is just that bit bigger than him—Lando loves his cock and knot all the same—so it’s generally the Spainiard who gets the job of keeping their omega nice and full during the long nights.

He can’t help but check. Reaching down between their bodies, Oscar trails his fingers down Lando’s back—making sure to give his ass a soft squeeze as he passes by—and dips down to check the state of his hole.

“Yup. Still full.”

Oscar rumbles happily at the knowledge that Lando will be pleased when he wakes up. The Aussie tucked himself tighter around his omega, and breathes in deep to capture the scent of the room: peppermint, lavender, and smoke.

Lots of smoke.

Like: a lot of smoke.

Oscar picks his head up off of his pillow, and peaks at Carlos’ still sleeping form. He seems fine: no furrowed brow, no pinched expression, no growls or grumbles come from his mouth, just a steady stream of rumbling.

“Oh! Oh. Ohhh. Rut.”

Oscar’s head flops back down to the pillow.

He grumbles.

“C’mon. Have to get up and make food before Carlos wakes up and doesn’t let me leave,” he thinks, willing himself to go through the arduous process of untangling himself from the most comfortable tangle of limbs in the world, and the prettiest nest he’s ever been in.

Eventually, reason wins out, and Oscar does his best not to jostle anybody on his way out. He mentally prepares himself for the next week as he makes breakfast; eggs, toast, bacon, sliced up fruit, smoothies, pancakes (that are definitely not as good as the ones Carlos makes), breakfast potatoes, sausages, and more fruit.

Keep-Everybody-Alive-Duty is an important job to have, especially since Carlos will be out of his, and Lando will be getting Fucked, so neither of them will be in any sort of position to take care of themselves. Oscar doesn’t mind keep-everybody-alive-duty, it’s just a lot. It’s a lot to care for the wellbeing of three people for six days of fucked, but he can’t complain too much.

Except that he can complain a little, because when Carlos is on duty for Oscar’s ruts it’s only for three days.

But then Carlos takes care of everything for Lando’s three days of heat, and so they’re kind of even in terms of days, so Oscar can’t actually complain.

He loads all of the food up onto the rolling cart they have, and grabs a pack of electrolyte drinks before making his way back to the bedroom.

When he gets there he’s greeted by a wonderful sight: Carlos’ ass has he’s bent over Lando, fucking into his hole. Oscar would bet anything that Carlos woke up, and then immediately rolled over and started pounding into their omega.

Oscar winces in sympathy when he hears Carlos snarl, and the bed creak, but he knows that Lando isn’t in any danger. Carlos is like this during his rut: just a little bit feral. It’s never been a problem for them. His rut also makes him super protective of his omega, even if that means protecting Lando from himself. He’s always been like this, from the first time Oscar was around for Carlos’ rut, and apparently it was like this before, so it’s not a case of trying to protect his omega, hoard him away from all the other alphas that mind want a nip at him.

If Oscar were anybody else, he might have gotten a little bit defensive about Carlos not seeing him as a threat during his ruts, but Oscar doesn’t see Carlos as a threat during his. He never has. He respects what Lando and Carlos have, and Carlos respects what he and Lando have when it’s his turn. The Spainiard doesn’t snap at Oscar, doesn’t even growl in his direction (unless he’s not close enough), he lets Oscar exist in his space, and even lets Oscar touch their omega, even fuck their omega.

Oscar isn’t generally so charitable during his ruts, but he’s getting there.

Oscar watches Carlos plow into Lando’s hole, and shifts on his feet. He doesn’t ever really know what to do with himself during Carlos’ ruts. He usually starts out the week in the cuck chair, but Carlos unceremoniously threw that out after the double dicking incident, and now Oscar is just hovering outside of the nest.

Obviously, it’s Lando’s nest, and Oscar has a standing invitation to Lando’s nest, but it is also Carlos’ rut, and so his desires take precedence.

He needs to pick something quick, because with the way the scent of smoke curling around him is making him feel, Oscar’s legs are going to give out soon, and he's just going to become a heap on the floor.

“Alpha,” Carlos growls. “In.”

“Cuck corner of the nest it is.”

He settles back to where he was laying earlier, next to Lando, and watches the scene in front of him from a new angle. Now, instead of flexing glutes, Oscar watches Carlos’ rock fuck itself as deep as it can go into Lando’s hole. He watches the way it stretches to accommodate the alpha’s girth, despite the fact that the Brit had remained plugged up all night.

He wonders how tight Lando still is. He wonders how tight it would be if Oscar were to slide in there as well.

“Fuck. Not the time,” Oscar thinks, shuddering at the memory. “I should ask for a repeat when this is all over.”

Oscar lets himself sink into the smoke. He allows his peppermint arousal to seep into the air, and rumbles when Carlos’ eyes dart over to his.

The scent of lavender spikes.

A loud moan echoes through the room.

“Oh my god he was still asleep.”

Lando whines, his eyes immediately glaze over. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chants in time with the snapping of his alpha’s hips; harsher than they were before.

Oscar is admittedly a little concerned, but then Lando turns his head to face Oscar instead of the headboard. His eyes are rolling into the back of his head, and his arm is reaching out to grab onto something, anything to ground him.

“Osc!”

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He brings his hand up to tangle their fingers together. “I’ve got you. Is Carlos being too rough? I’ll push him off if I have to.”

Carlos growls.

Lando whimpers, and shakes his head.

Oscar rumbles, and circles his thumb along the back of his omegas head, and he refocuses his eyes to where the two of them are joined. He groans.

Now that Lando is awake, Carlos isn’t making an effort to stay quiet. And now that Lando is awake, Lando is all of those lovely sounds that he normally makes. Honestly, it’s a testament to how hot Carlos looked fucking into Lando that Oscar didn’t realise his omega was still asleep.

When coupled with the visuals in front of him, and sounds coming from his omega and his alpha, the peppermint, lavender, and smoke swirling together form the perfect concoction to make Oscar desperately hard.

He thinks about cupping himself to relieve some of the tension, but that’s about as far as he gets before Carlos is slotting himself deep in Lando’s hole, and cumming harshly. Lando is quick to follow, Carlos’ knot throwing him overboard as well.

“So good,” Oscar whispers, bringing Lando’s hand up to kiss each and every one of his finger tips. “You were so good for him, sweetheart. So pretty. So perfect,” he praises.

Lando moans again when Carlos lowers himself to rest on his back, and to nuzzle into the scent glands on his neck

“Go good,” Carlos murmurs. “So good for us.”

Oscar can’t help the dumb smile that crosses his face. “So good for us,” he agrees.

The three of them just breathe for a few minutes, before Carlos rolls onto his back—without slipping out of Lando, though the presence of his knot does help with that endeavour—and scoots back to sit up against the headboard. He maneuvers Lando so that the Brit’s legs are spread out over the Spainiard’s thighs, and Oscar gets an even better view of where they are joined.

He clears his throat. “Breakfast?” he asks.

Carlos ignores him. “Come here.”

“You need to eat.”

“In a minute,” Carlos growls. “Come. Here.”

Oscar gives in. If there’s anything he’s learnt about Carlos in rut, it's that while he might not remember that he needs to eat, eventually his big dumb brain will remember that his omega needs to be fed.

“Good morning, alpha,” Lando giggles while Oscar situates himself between Lando’s spread legs.

“Good morning, omega.”

“Kiss?”

Oscar glances over Lando’s shoulder at Carlos. While Lando is Oscar’s just as much as he is Carlos’, Carlos is currently in a rut, and Oscar doesn’t want to get fucking murdered. Thank you.

Instead of nodding like he normally does, one of Carlos’ hands comes up to thread its fingers through Oscar’s hair, and use its newfound grip to tug Oscar forward. He lets himself be guided towards his omega’s mouth, and he captures it when he is brought close enough.

Before Oscar can think to confront the many confusing feelings he has about Carlos’ fingers in his hair, the hand is leaving and Oscar definitely does not whimper.

But it’s close. And he really wanted to.

He doesn’t have to want for long, because Carlos’ hands are coming back onto him as they work to strip Oscar out of the clothes he’d put on to make them that breakfast getting cold just outside of the nest.

He’s never done this before: strip Oscar with his own hands. Lando does it when his brain is still online, so it's usually Oscar who does it on his own. It’s a little difficult to help Carlos get him out of his clothes while Lando is trying to suck on his tongue like it’s a cock, but Oscar doesn’t mind too much.

The second Oscar is naked again—and his clothes have been chucked over to the corner of the nest for Lando to put away later—Carlos’ hand doesn’t return to his hair, but reaches down to wrap around his cock. The Aussie bites back the moans threatening to escape when the Spainiard starts to jerk him to full hardness as if Oscar hadn’t gotten there all on his own.

Carlos growls lowly. “I want to hear you.”

“He wants to hear me?” Oscar thinks, letting the statement rattle around his brain.

He lets himself moan about the feeling of Carlos’ hand on his cock. He pulls back from Lando; if Carlos wants to hear him, then Lando can’t be swallowing his moans. But then Carlos’ other hand is back in his hair, tugging his mouth back to Lando’s..

“Muffled noise is okay. Got it.”

Oscar starts fucking into the hand jerking him off. Sue him. He can’t help himself. Not when it feels so good.

“Good alpha,” Carlos murmurs. He tightens his fingers, pulling Oscar away from Lando, and tilting his head up. “Mine.”

Oscar doesn't think. “Yours,” he repeats.

Carlos rumbles. He bends down to kiss Lando at the junction between his neck and his shoulder.

“Breakfast.”

“Now?” This time Oscar does whine. “But–you’re–”

“Shhh,” the Spainiard soothes, letting his hand slide off of the Aussie’s cock.

Before Oscar can get his tongue working well enough to call Carlos a dick, Carlos is bringing a hand to Lando’s waist.

“Cariño, breakfast.”

And then Oscar is watching as Lando is being pushed down, down, down, down to take Oscar’s cock into his mouth.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?”

There’s a hand in his hair.

There’s a mouth on his cock.

The scent of peppermint, lavender, and smoke make his brain go fuzzy.

He meets Carlos’ eyes, and he feels like he’s going to explode.

Lando is so good at sucking cock. He’s amazing at it. He’s currently licking at Oscar’s slit, trying to tease as much precum as he can out of Oscar.

For breakfast.

Oscar is going to lose is fucking mind.

He makes the mistake of glancing down. He can see where Carlos’ knot is still splitting Lando open, and watch how Lando is rolling his hips, grinding on the knot still lodged inside of him.

He can’t help but stare.

He almost misses Carlos’ hand creeping up Lando’s spine to tangle into his curls.

He has about three seconds to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable vision of Carlos fucking Lando’s mouth on Oscar’s cock.

It doesn’t work very well, and Lando manages to complete three bobs before Oscar cums. And he cums hard.

Carlos pushes Lando’s head down to lodge Oscar’s cock deep in his throat, so the omega’s got nothing to do but swallow.

“I can’t fucking breathe.”

“What do you say, Cariño?” Carlos asks, pulling Lando up slowly.

“Thank you.”

“Good omega.”

“You’re welcome,” Oscar mumbles.

Carlos grins at him. “Good alpha.”

Oscar fucking preens. He feels floaty.

“Get him hard again,” Carlos orders, urging Lando back down.

Oscar hisses.

“Cabrón?”

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” he assures as Lando starts mouthing at him again. “Just sensitive.” He swallows. “Whatever you want, mate. It’s your rut. I’ll tell you if it’s too much, yeah? We’ll do whatever you want.”

Apparently, what Carlos wants is to switch places with Oscar as soon as his knot goes down.

He urges Lando to bounce on Oscar cock until they both come again.

Then finally—finally—Carlos turns to the food cart. “Breakfast. For real this time.”

Since Oscar kind of can’t move right now, he settles his arms around Lando’s middle and props his head up on the Brit’s shoulder. “Good,” he croaks. “I’m starving.”

Carlos hums. With single minded focus, he loads up one of the empty plates with food from the Oscar Buffet, and sits down next to them.

“I want to fuck you,” Carlos says, looking at Oscar, and bringing a strawberry up to Lando’s mouth.

“What?” Oscar asks.

He can feel the way Lando stiffens slightly in his lap as the omega sucks the juices off of his alpha’s fingers.

“I mean. I think Lando’s eaten enough. Are you up for another round, sweetheart?”

Carlos shakes his head. “Oscar. I want to fuck Oscar.”

“I’m not an omega, mate,” he points out.

Carlos shrugs helplessly. Shoulders drawn tight, and gazed turned down he whispers, “Doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does, Magnet.”

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, looking up into the Aussie’s eyes. “I want to fuck what’s mine.”

Admittedly, Oscar melts. He likes being Carlos’.

Lando then freezes for an entirely different reason, based on the way he tightens up right before arching his back to moan. Lando had been so good at being still all throughout real-breakfast, but now he’s making tiny aborted motions that chip away at Oscar’s sanity.

“I don’t have to knot you; I don’t think,” Carlos says. “I just…” The smell of smoke intensifies. “I want what’s mine. Who’s mine. I can cum without knotting,” he assures. “Even during my rut. I can be good.”

It’s a little stilted, and not quiet begging, but it makes Oscar feel warm all the same. Still, they have to have some boundaries about this, if Oscar is truly going to consider this.

“I am not an omega,” he reiterates. “I amy defer to you sometimes, but–”

“No.” Carlos puts the plate to the side, and gets up into Oscar’s face the way he does with Lando when their omega needs to be grounded. “Alpha. You are my alpha,” he growls. “I have an omega. I do not need another one.”

Oscar whimpers.

Which he is definitely going to blame on the way Lando clenched around him at Carlos’ words.

“You can say no.”

“Please say yes,” Lando begs from between his alphas’ chests. “It’s so so so good. Even just his cock. You’re going to love it. It’s so good. His knot is good too,” he babbles. “You should let Carlos knot you Osc. It feels so good. He’s so big, and he’s so warm, and it’s so nice when he makes my brain go fuzzy. Also you’d look so so so good. Maybe for once I can watch somebody getting fucked. I think you’d really like it. Carlos has the best cock.”

Carlos chuckles, bending down to reward Lando with a quick kiss for his sweet words.

Oscar is definitely thinking about it. About the faces Lando makes when it’s Carlos’ cock pounding into him. About the sounds Carlos is able to draw out of his omega.

“Could you make me like that?”

“Yes. I’ll make it so good for you”

“The best?” Oscar asks Lando while on autopilot, eyes still caught by Carlos’ gaze. “What about mine? Which is in you right now, by the day?”

“Also the best,” Lando is quick to dismiss. “You’re gonna love it. Love getting fucked. You’re gonna love getting fucked.  Carlos is so good at it. You’re gonna like it so much you’ll want him all the time. And that’s okay because I have your knot.”

“Oh you’re giving him to me?” he teases, finally dislodging his gaze back down to his omega. He puts his hands on Lando's hips, and grinds the omega down as he jerks his own hips upwards. “Don’t want him anymore?”

And that causes Lando to make the most outraged sound.

It’s clear that he’s about to pull off Oscar, and stake his claim over Carlos, but the Spainiard to quick to divert his attention back to the Brit. He leans in. “If Oscar lets me fuck him, I’m not going to start fucking you any less.”

“Lando is so easy for it,” Oscar thinks as the omega in question chirps happily, and melts back into his body. He also starts grinding his hips again.

“Are you thinking about it, Cabrón?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Maybe.”

Carlos smiles. “Thank you, alpha.”

Oscar fucking preens, and jerks his hips upwards again.

“Still hungry?”

“A little.”

Carlos reaches back to the plate, and picks up another strawberry, this time to offer it to Oscar.

The alpha makes sure to lick Carlos’ fingers into his mouth for much longer than it takes to each the offered fruit.

The smell of smoke intensifies as Carlos’ eyes darken, and Oscar can feel his peppermint scent releasing as well.

Lando’s head lolls back onto Oscar’s shoulder, leaving his entire neck exposed to his alphas.

Oscar kind of still has Carlos’ fingers in his mouth, so he leaves it to the other man to capitalize on Lando’s submission.

“I’m done eating,” Lando decides. “No longer hungry. Need to cum. Please, alpha. Please.”

And the three of them are back off to the races at Carlos’ direction. Lando is pulled off of Oscar’s cock, but before either of them can complain; Carlos is filling Lando back up, and he’s pushing the Brit’s mouth back onto Oscar’s cock.

“Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart. You are so good with your mouth.”

It goes on like this for a few days: Lando playing the perfect pretty ragdoll fuck toy for his rutting alpha, and Oscar slipping away every so often to make sure the three of them don’t die of dehydration or starvation.

It’s more difficult to slip away this rut than it has been in the past. Carlos growls at him whenever he tries to leave. If it’s possible to detach himself from Lando, Carlos will do so, and present him to Oscar; an offering he can seldom refuse.

Thankfully—for all of their sakes—Lando is present enough to help distract Carlos for long enough that Oscar can escape to the kitchen every so often. But Lando isn’t making it easy for Oscar either, with how often he sends the Aussie pleading looks.

Oscar doesn’t know what Lando is begging for anymore, since it’s very clear that he wants two things: Oscar to fuck him, and Oscar to let Carlos fuck him.

Standing in the kitchen in nothing but an apron, Oscar shudders at the thought. It’s a good shudder, but a shudder nonetheless.

“I want it.”

“Oscar!” Lando cries. “Come back to the den! Want both my alphas! And bing trail mix! ‘M gonna need to snack on something while I’m knotted up!”

Oscar laughs, but he dutifully brings a gallon ziplock bag of trail mix—as well as another case of electrolyte drinks—back with him to the bedroom. The second he crosses the threshold, Carlos is on him, caging him to the wall.

Everything he’s carrying drops to the floor.

Oscar bares his teeth.

Carlos growls at him. “Where have you been?”

“The kitchen. Food.”

Carlos’ eyes narrow.

Oscar stands his ground.

“Mine,” Carlos growls, grabbing his cock in one smooth motion.

Oscar hisses. “I was just making sure we don’t die. I’m here now.”

“Mine,” he repeats.

Oscar searches Carlos’ eyes for five seconds before he responds. “Yours,” he agrees, even if he doesn’t really know what he’s agreeing to.

“My cock.”

Oscar whimpers when Carlos starts jerking him off. “Okay.”

“Want you in my omega.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Carlos yanks Oscar away from the wall, and the Aussie stumbles his way across the room until he lands on his front. For a brief moment, Carlos hovers over him, and Oscar’s mind flashes with visions of Carlos deciding to forgo whatever plan he’s got now. Of Carlos spreading his legs a little more. Of Carlos tucking himself between Oscar’s thighs and pushing in.

Instead, he feels a set of large calloused hands wrap around his waist, and flip him over.

His visions suddenly change to being able to see Carlos looming over him as he fucks into his alpha.

Oscar does not whine.

Well, maybe he does.

But it’s only because Carlos is in the process of sliding Lando down Oscar’s cock.

“Fuck.”

Sat astride his alpha’s lap, he gets with the program remarkably quickly, and starts to fuck himself. Rolling his hips, and letting out to prettiest sounds, Lando is a vision that Oscar cannot look away from.

Nor does he want to.

His eyes trail across his omega’s body, all the way down his tanned chest to where they are joined. Oscar can also see Carlos’ hands on Lando’s hips, driving the Brit’s movements, fucking him down on Oscar’s cock.

Oscar can feel Carlos’ warmth between his thighs while how closely the Spainiard is plastered to Lando’s back.

Oscar watches him kiss him up and down Lando’s neck, nipping at his skin every few seconds. Carlos’ eyes are closed, and it’s obvious that he’s rolling his hips as well, rutting his own cock all over Lando’s ass.

“How does he feel, Cabrón?”

“The best,” Oscar gasps. “He’s so good. So Perfect. Such a good omega.”

Lando keens.

“Cariño?”

“Good! Great, even!”

The statement makes both of his alphas chuckle, and then Carlos is guiding Lando down, down, down, down towards Oscar’s mouth, urging them to kiss.

“Y’know,” Oscar manages to force out between Lando’s mounting assisted assault. “If you wanted to kiss me yourself: you can. Don’t have to go through Lando all the time.”

A few things happen at once; Lando freezes against his mouth; Carlos’ hips stop moving.; and Oscar can properly breathe for the first time in minutes.

He takes in as many gasping breaths as he can before the gears in Carlos’ head finish their rotation. He darts his eyes down to Land’so: they are staring up at him with pupils blown wide, wider than they’ve been in the past three days.

Smoke curls around them.

Oscar looks back at Carlos.

Carlos looks hungry.

He leans down slowly, like he’s afraid that Oscar is going to take back what he’s just said at any moment. He noses Lando out of the way, nudging him to make himself at home in Oscar’s neck.

Lando goes easily, mouthing softly at Oscar’s skin while keeping his eyes pinned on his alphas.

Oscar’s nose fills with smoke, and his eyes drift shut.

There’s a mouth on his; wider lips, a noticeable beard, more teeth action, a more demanding tongue; and a hand slipping into his hair. It tugs him back, tipping his chin up, and forcing his back to arch.

Peppermint fills the air.

“Fuck,” Lando breathes into his ear. “That’s hot.”

It’s like a spell breaks.

Suddenly Oscar feels like Carlos is trying to mold him into the mattress with how hard he’s being pushed down. He had half a mind to be worried about Lando’s safety, but the omega is happily purring up a storm from where he’s trapped between his alphas, just the way he likes it.

Oscar can’t move, and Lando has never been one for hard work during sex, but Carlos is certainly rutting. The motion the Spainiard creates rocks Lando on his cock, and Oscar can feel his orgasm build and build and build and build.

Carlos continuously nips at his mouth, learning what makes Oscar tick so much faster than Lando did.

He feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Are you close, Cabrón?” Carlos murures against his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to knot our boy up?”

“Yes.”

“Do it.”

It washes over Oscar like a tidal wave.

He works hard to breathe through it. He gets a little derailed when Lando cums too, squeezing the life out of his cock like the good, precious, pretty, amazing omega that he is.

And Oscar tells him as much.

“Thank you, alpha,” the Brit mumbles into his neck, trying to match his breathing to Oscar’s. “You’re pretty okay yourself.”

“Brat.”

“You love it.”

Carlos is the last to cum, painting Lando’s back with it.

He pants.

He sits back on his haunches, and even though he wasn’t exactly touching Oscar, the Aussie feels close.

Carlos rumbles. “So pretty.” Suddenly there are fingers circling Lando’s hole, and the base of Oscar’s cock still locked in said hole. “Good alpha. Keeping our omega nice and plugged up.” He swipes through the fluids coating everything down there. “Maybe it’ll catch.”

Now: Oscar is not ready for kids; Lando is not ready for kids; Carlos is not ready for kids either; but it still makes both Lando and Oscar moan. Lando tightens even more than he already was, and Oscar feels his cock twitch.

He’s going to explode.

He’s also starting to feel a little floaty.

“Magnet,” he calls. “Come here. Come back.”

Carlos’ hand in his hair has never felt so right. Carlos’ mouth on his feels like nothing else he’s experienced before.

Carlos pulls away a hair’s width when Oscar moans.

Their eyes meet.

“Please,” Oscar whispers, thoughts finalizing in his mind. “Fuck me.”

Carlos’ eyes narrow. Sharp. Like a predator.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

Oscar nods. “I want it. I’ve thought about it. I haven’t been able to think about anything but it.”

Smoke fills the air.

Lavender swirls around them.

Both alphas notice at the same time. They glance down at their omega.

“I want to watch.”

Oscar scoffs. “Obviously you are going to watch.”

Lando grins.

Then he yelps as Oscar’s world rolls.

Suddenly, Oscar is hovering above Lando, knot still locking them together. He can feel a physical warmth at his back.

Carlos.

Fuck.

They’ve never done this before.

Oscar and Carlos have always been facing each other, which makes sense if they both need to dick down to the same omega. Now, Carlos looms behind him: naked, hard, and huge. Oscar feels small for the first time in a long while.

“Have you done this before?” Carlos asks, voice low and gravelly.

Oscar appreciates that he seems to be the most sober he has in days as his fingers start to prod at his hole.

“A beta,” he chokes, when Carlos starts to circle his rim. “With one of those jelly knots. I wanted to know what an omega would feel when I fucked them. Thought it was important to know what I was going to be doing to their bodies.”

Lando hisses at him. His legs come up to bracket his hips. His hands come up to claw at his shoulders. “Mine.”

Carlos growls as well. The grip of his hip tightens. A set of teeth scrape across his shoulders.

“It was during F3 and stuff!” he gasps. “Before I met either of you. I had to learn sex somewhere, you know?”

“Mine,” Carlos growls.

“Yes, yours. Only yours.”

Lando is looking up at him with big eyes.

Oscar leans down to kiss him sweetly. “And yours.”

Carlos rumbles.

“Who was it?” Lando asks.

“Not telling.”

“It was Max wasn’t it?”

“Not telling.”

“I bet it was. I’m going to ask him after this.”

Oscar bites Lando lightly. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Was it?”

“Not telling.”

Carlos’ fingers swipe through the fluids coating his nether regions. “It doesn’t matter.” He presses his index finger into Oscar, and the Aussie jerks. “Ours now.”

Oscar shudders. “Yours. Fuck.”

He’d forgotten what this felt like: to be breached. It has been a long time since F3, and he hasn’t done this since. Honestly, he’d forgotten what this had felt like.

But he remembers how much he had loved it.

“You can knot me,” he gasps when Carlos gets to three fingers. “Later, when you start fucking me. I’ll be able to take it.”

“Are you sure?” Lando asks, propped up on the headboard, and munching on trail mix. “Carlos’ knot is amazing—and you’ll love it—but it’s a lot. He’s already so big,” he purrs.

“I can take it.”

Carlos hums. “We’ll see. I’ll make it good for you.”

Oscar sighs into the bedspread, letting himself go soft and pliant.

“Cariño. Come here. You have not cum in a while.”

Oscar turns his head to the side to watch Lando shuffle over.

“Hi alpha.”

Carlos rumbles. “Hi omega.” Then he and Lando are kissing.

Oscar watches Carlos get Lando to lie down on his back, then kiss his way down Lando’s chest until the Spainiard has got his mouth on the Brit’s hole.

Lando cries. He reaches for Oscar, and the Aussie clasps their hands together.

Even with Carlos’ fingers still in his ass, lazily pumping, Oscar can’t take his eyes off the pair of them. He loves watching Carlos give Lando head. There’s something so precious about it: watching an alpha go down on their omega. It’s a form of worship, Oscar thinks.

“Would you ever suck me off?” Oscar wonders. “I’d do it. If you pushed me to my knees and asked. You don’t even need to ask, I think. Get me on my knees, and press your tip to my lips like you do with our omega, and I think I would just open up.”

Oscar shudders again, this time from imagining the weight of Carlos in his mouth. They’ve bumped cocks enough times, and he’s seen it again and again and again, and Oscar has an idea about what it might be like, but he wants it.

He’s never let himself think about the other alpha fucking him in the ass—after Max left F3, Oscar hadn’t revisited the idea of getting fucked until Carlos had brought it up—but he had definitely thought about letting Carlos fuck his mouth; use his spit as lube, before pushing into Lando.

Lando who keens.

Lando who’s chanting “alpha, alpha, alpha. Please, please, please. I’ve been good. Please. Carlos!”

Lando who flops down into the sheets; unless, and spent.

Oscar doesn’t hear the usual murmurs from Carlos. The ones he gives when Lando cums all over them like the good boy he is.

Oscar is about to say something when he feels something shift behind him.

“Magnet?” he asks.

Carlos’ tongue breaches his.backside.

“Carlos!”

It’s wet.

There’s a tongue giving him a few circles before it’s pushing in.

It’s so wet.

“Oh my god. He’s using Lando’s cum to lube me up.”

His nose fills with lavender when Lando realises it too.

“Fuck. I need to knot. Let me have a knot. Please!”

Oscar cries out when Carlos rips his mouth off of the Aussie, but he bites his tongue when the Spainiard reaches for the Brit.

“It’s his rut. If he wants to fill his omega, he can fill his omega. He doesn’t have to fuck me. It’s fine.”

But Oscar isn’t being left to spiral for long. Hands on Oscar’s hips guide him upwards while Lando shimmies to get under him. There isn’t time to think before Oscar is gasping at the feeling of Lando welcoming him home once more.

“Fuck,” he says, and, “fuck,” he repeats that Carlos’ mouth decends on him once more.

It feels so good.

Carlos feels so good.

Lando feels so good.

Everything is so much better now that Lando is underneath him; now that he can rut into Lando instead of the sheets his cock had been dragged against for the past however fucking long it’s been. He mouths sloppily at his omegas neck, drawing out as many pretty, perfect sounds that he can.

The duel sensations are driving him crazy, and Oscar can’t help but start fucking into Lando. He starts out with small, rolling motions. He drags his cock along the walls of Lando’s hole, while at the same time fucking himself back on Carlos’ tongue.

“Osc. Alpha. Please, please, please. Need to cum. Please.”

“You can cum,” he assures. “Whenever you want. So good for me.”

And then Lando is making a mess of them all.

And then Oscar is coming too. Oversensitive from the alpha behind him, opening him up for his cock—and hopefully his knot, maybe—Lando’s hole squeezing as tightly as it can to keep Oscar inside is more than enough to toss him overboard as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel so good. Fuck. You’re perfect.” Oscar presses a kiss to Lando’s jaw. “Fuck. If I could keep you on my knot all day every day, I would. Would Carlos hate me cause I’m hogging all of your time, maybe.”

“He can just slip in next to you,” Lando pants. “‘M stretchy enough. Then you can be in me all the time, and Carlos can still fuck me.”

“Is it possible to white out after the orgasm has already passed?” Oscar wonders.

“Or he could fuck you.”

Oscar’s hip jolt. “I’m not an omega.”

“I know,” Lando grins. He wraps his legs around Oscar’s waist, and brings his arms up to cling to his shoulders. “My alpha.”

Lando’s other alpha decides that now is a good time to exchange his tongue for three fingers that somehow find his prostate immediately.

“Magnet,” Oscar chokes when the Spainiard starts to finger blast him. Fingers going at the speed of sound in his hole, coupled with Lando strangling his cock in warmth, Oscar feels like he’s flying and dying at the same time. “Magnet, please.”

Carlos rumbles. He presses kisses on Oscar’s lower back, and he starts talking: “You’re being very good for me, Cabrón. I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. Thank you.” His teeth sink into the meat of Oscar’s thigh. “You’re going to look so good are spread out for me. You already look so good. And I can see Cariño’s hole from here. You’re doing such a good job of plugging him up.”

Despite having literally just cum—and not the one in his rut—Oscar can feel the urge to do so again bubbling up to the surface.

Nose deep in Lando’s clavicle, he can smell nothing but the lavender of his happy, satiated, yet still horny omega.

“You’re going to cum for me, Cabrón. Then we’re gonna plug you up with one of Lando’s toys, so I don’t hurt you, hmm?”

“But–”

“No buts,” Carlos soothes. His hand continues to move at its steady pace. “Need it to be good for you. I will knot Lando in the shower. I feel the need coming up. I need to finish prepping you before I lose myself to the rut again.”

Oscar slumps further into Lando if that's even possible. “Okay.”

“Close?”

“Yes, Magnet. Fuck.”

“Grind,” Carlos orders. “Cariño, which one of your toys should I plug Oscar up with?”

Lando hums. “The big one. The red one.”

Oscar knows exactly which one Lando is talking about.

It’s going to fucking split him open.

But then again, so is Carlos.

He cums right then and there. His knot valiantly tries to expand, to keep him inside of his omega, but Oscar is spent. Carlos had strung him up so high, and now there is nothing.

He whimpers as he goes limp, using all of his effort to raise his hips a little, to present his ass.

Carlos groans. “Fuck you’re a treat. I want…”

Oscar wants too. “Break,” he calls for instead.

Then the heat behind him is gone.

Oscar definitely whines.

“He’s coming back,” Oscar reminds himself. “This must be how Lando feels when we leave.”

There are hands in his hair—Lando’s this time—carding through his waves. It grounds him, keeps him from floating away into the distance as the brain fog descends.

Smoke curls around him, and something silicon is getting pushed into his ass.

“Fuck.”

“So good for me,” Carlos rumbles, rubbing circles on his hips, and presses kissing into his skin.

When Oscar can breathe again—barely—Carlos is drawing him out of Lando.

He hisses, but Carlos’ rumble and Lando’s purr help sooth him. He falls limply to the bed, and lets Lando push him onto his back, and into a quick and cozy nest.

The shower turns on.

“Are you okay?” the Brit asks, dipping down to check on the plug. “Not too uncomfortable?”

“I’m okay. It’s fine. I don’t know how you are able to still sit up, sweetheart.”

“I get fucked all the time. ‘M used to it.”

Oscar rumbles.

“You’re gonna love it.” Lando bends down to kiss him. “I’m gonna go help him take the edge off.”

“Do that,” Oscar mumbles. “One more kiss.”

Oscar is asleep before Lando shuts the bathroom door behind him. Or maybe Lando doesn’t shut the door at all. Maybe he left it open so Oscar could hear his sweet cries. Either way, Oscar is asleep.

He wakes up with the plug still in his ass, and a mouth on his cock.

He’s not disappointed when he sees Lando’s curls bobbing up and down his cock.

“You’re taking him so well, Cariño.”

That’s when Oscar notices the hand in Lando’s hair, gripping at his roots, and controlling his motion: up down, up down, up down.

The two alphas’ eyes meet.

Oscar almost wishes they didn’t, because Carlos is pulling Lando up, up, up, up and off of his cock.

Oscar, emphatically, does not whine, but Lando has no such reservations.

“Why?” he asks, looking up at Carlos with pleading eyes, head straining away from the alpha’s hand. “I wasn’t finished.”

Oscar has been awake for ten seconds, and he’s already losing his mind.

His hips jerk upwards.

The plug shifts.

Oscar moans.

“Oh you’re awake,” Lando, honest to God, pouts. “Go back to sleep, I wasn’t finished.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Fine.” Lando rolls over. “I’ll get out of the way.”

“Thought you were excited for this?” Oscar questions, rubbing what’s left of the sleep from his eyes. “That was a good nap,” he thinks.

“Well yeah. But I want cock too!”

“You’ll get it, Cariño. Patience.”

“My middle name.”

“I thought it was brat,” Oscar mumbles, curling his arm around Lando as the Brit tucks himself into Oscar’s side, nosing at his scent glands.

Carlos’ caresses Oscar’s front, hips, ass, and thighs on his way down to the plug. “Are you still willing to be fucked?”

“Yes.”

“Front or back?”

“I get to choose?” he asks.

“I want it to be good for you,” Carlos tells him, leaning down to press kisses into his throat as he toys with the plug still lodged inside the Aussie. “I need this to be good for you so we can do this again. I know you’re going to be so good for me,” he whispers.

Oscar moans. Still—now that he’s being given time to think—he’s starting to worry. “What if I don’t like it?”

“Then I never fuck you again,” the Spainiard shrugs. Like it’s simple. Like it’s okay.

Oscar gets the strongest urge to present. “On my front. Please.”

“So polite,” Carlos rumbles. “I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

“I trust you,” Oscar vocalises.

Carlos bends down to nip at his throat, and then Oscar is being flipped over, landing on his hands and knees, hovering over top of Lando.

“Kiss,” Carlos demands, fingers threading through Oscar’s waves to push his head down.

Oscar focuses on drawing out as many noises as he can from his omega.

After a few moments, Carlos tugs Oscar’s head up, and drags Lando down the bed.

The omega moans. “Carlos!”

“Joder, you are so wet, Cariño. Is this for us?”

“Yes.”

“Will you let me fuck you?”

Oscar whimpers.

“Thought you were gonna fuck Osc?”

“He doesn’t slick up like you do. I need to get my dick wet so I don’t hurt him.”

“He wants to use Lando’s cum to lube me up. Properly this time.”

“Please, please, please. Are you going to knot?”

Carlos pauses.

“I still want it.”

Lando moans. “Can I have Oscar’s knot? I know I wanted to watch, but I can watch from right here.”

Carlos chuckles. “You can have your alpha’s knot, if you can cum for me.”

“I can!”

Oscar hears it when Carlos starts to fuck Lando underneath him: the squelch of slick, the cries behind him, the grunts behind him, not the mention the mouth mouthing at his chest, and the lips sliding across his lower back.

It doesn’t take long for Lando to cum for them.

“Good boy,” Carlos whispers into Oscar's skin before drawing back.

The Aussie feels fingers circling his rim, and then the plug is getting pulled out slowly, slowly.

“Joder. You are gaping, Cabrón.”

Oscar feels unmoored. “Empty,” he whimpers. “Is this how Lando feels when we leave him?”

Oscar doesn’t have a lot of time to worry about it, because something blunt is poking at his hole, and without any more warning, Carlos’ cockhead is pushing into his hole.

Oscar whites out at the slow, slow, slow stretch.

“Fuck.”

Carlos is so much bigger than the plug, both in length and girth. Oscar had known this, obviously, he’d seen Carlos’ cock in comparison to Lando’s largest toy, but he hadn’t really thought about how it would feel.

It feels like getting split open. It feels like being unable to breathe. It feels like being owned.

Oscar thrashes, but Carlos has got him. Leaning over him, Carlos traps him where he is.

Under him, Lando’s got him as well. The omega wiggles his way up the bed once more, and wraps his legs around Oscar’s waist, and with a little finagling that Oscar is certainly no help in, Oscar is pushing into Lando’s still-wet heat.

It feels like coming home.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Good?” Carlos asks, pressing mouthy kisses onto his back.

“So good, fuck.”

“Can you take more?”

“More?” Oscar demands. “You are balls deep, what do you mean more?”

“My knot. Will you be able to do it? It is okay if you can’t.”

“I can do it.”

Carlos nips at his skin. “Another rutwave is coming.”

Oscar takes the warning for what it is, and tries to figure out how to breathe.

He inhales.

“I’ve got you.”

He exhales.

“Alpha.”

“Joder.”

Carlos finds his prostate on the first thrust.

Oscar practically screams. “Magnet!”

Lando moans in tandem, when the movement inevitably shoves Oscar deeper into their omega.

Oscar doesn't know what to do. The sensations in and around his body are entirely overwhelming. Carlos in his ass. Lando around his cock. The only thing Oscar knows is that he is home. This is where he belongs. This is right.

His arms eventually give out. Unable to fuck back into Carlos, or fuck forward into Lando, Oscar focusing on making sure he keeps breathing.

“I forgot how much I liked getting fucked. Fuck. We’re doing this again. This feels so great. No wonder Lando wants us all the time. I’d want this all the time too.”

Oscar feels like he’s going to die in the best way.

Lando is purring in between his moans, Oscar can do nothing but rumble, and Carlos is rumbling right back at them.

“So good for me. Such good boys,” he mumbles into Oscar’s skin.

Probably.

Oscar can’t really hear anything beyond the pounding in his ears, and the sound of slapping flesh, as he drowns in the scent of peppermint, lavender, and smoke mixing together in a heedy concoction.

It’s Carlos who cums first, rocking them all with his in out, in out, in out motions. He cums with a roar, biting Oscar hard on the shoulder, and pressing in the deepest he’s been all session.

“So good for me. Good alpha. So good,” he rambles. “So tight. So good. You’re taking me so well. Good alpha.”

What else was Oscar supposed to do other than cum inside Lando?

“You’re even milking me, exactly like I need it. Taking such good care of me while I’m in my rut.” Carlos grinds his hips. “Come on, keep being good for me, Cabrón. Lando still needs to cum. You’ve locked him so well.”

“This is how I die,” Oscar thinks.

Eventually, Carlos’ movements through Oscar set Lando off as well, and only then does Carlos finally collapse on top of him.

“So good for me,” Carlos continues to whisper. “Joder. You feel…”

Happy.

Oscar feels happy, and satiated, and like he wants to do this again.

Maybe even when Carlos isn’t in a rut, which seems to have receded for the time being.

“Want to do this again,” he mumbles into Lando’s neck.

Carlos pulls him up into clear hair by his hair. “What was that?”

“We should do this again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Carlos pulls Oscar further off of Lando, and closer to the Spainiard. “Mine?”

“Yours.”

And Oscar cannot believe that he and Carlos have never kissed before right now.

When Carlos pulls away, Oscar does not whine. It is only Lando that does that.

Lavender fills the air when Carlos brings Oscar in for another kiss, and another, and another, and another.

Oscar feels nails scratch down his chest. “Mine too. I’m also here.”

Oscar and Carlos both laugh into the kiss.

Carlos grinds, making Oscar grind. “I know Cariño.”

And then Oscar is being pushed back down to kiss his omega.

“Mine,” Lando says, nipping at his lips.

“Yours,” Oscar tells him.

“Carlos is mine too, by the way. Just because you’ve discovered how good his cock is doesn’t mean you’re getting it all the time.”

Oscar laughs. “Of course not. I’m very good at sharing.”

Lando whimpers when Oscar rolls his hips.

All on his own this time, thank you.

“Very good at sharing,” Lando agrees.

“Will you share your alpha’s cock with me?”

“A’ long as ‘m not in heat. And you gotta pay with your knot.”

Oscar shivers. “I can do that.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Carlos rumbles from on top of Oscar. “You’re both gonna be so good for me.” He tips them over to lay on their sides. “Sleep. The next wave is going to be rough, I think. Now that I am allowed both of you.”

Oscar shuts his eyes. With his arms full of his omega, and his ass full of his alpha, he lets himself fall asleep in a haze of peppermint, lavender, and smoke.