by Aiden Bates
I smirked. “Well, I’d say something like Marcos rims you until you’re about to cry, and I lay back on the bed like the pampered omega I am. Then Oliver fucks me, Marcos fucks Oliver, and everyone’s happy. Right?”
Oliver and Marcos both looked at me with equal expressions of surprise, and then, almost at the same time, arousal.
With just a little repositioning, Oliver bent over me, placing his knees between my parted thighs as he kissed me. I loved kissing Oliver because he always kissed me with such reverence, such need, but always with my pleasure in mind. What I wanted now though, was to give him the same pleasure he constantly gave me, that Marcos also gave me. I hummed as Oliver pressed his cock against mine, and then I reached down and spread his ass cheeks apart, exposing him to Marcos’s gaze.
“Oh, that is so fucking hot,” Marcos growled.
I would have grinned if Oliver wasn’t desperately plunging his tongue into my mouth. The bed shifted slightly, and I felt Marcos leaning forward. I opened my eyes just in time to see him licking his lips. My cock twitched at the sight, and I groaned at the knowledge of what he was about to do. Oliver lifted his mouth from mine for just a moment, and then let out a short gasp before releasing a long, soft moan as Marcos started lapping and sucking at Oliver’s hole.
When Oliver began to rock his hips, searching for friction against his weeping cock, I knew he was dangerously close to what I affectionately referred to as “The Melt.”
The Melt was the exact moment when Oliver, absolutely overcome with how good everything felt, couldn’t help himself any longer and just melted right into it.
Marcos was, for his part, moaning and groaning like he was feasting on the best meal he’d ever had. I would have been offended, maybe, if I wasn’t so absolutely turned on by swallowing every single mewl and plea he was wringing out of Oliver.
Oliver was staring down at me when The Melt happened. I could feel his thighs quivering, and his eyes took on that glazed over expression that meant he was there.
“Oh god,” he whimpered. “Oh god. I’m going to come if we don’t stop. Dios. Please.”
Marcos emerged from behind Oliver, his eyes blown wide as he sat back on his knees. He had his hand behind Oliver’s ass, and the choked groan told me everything I needed to know about what Marcos was doing.
I groped for the lube, handing it to Oliver, who then handed it to Marcos. And then Oliver was pressing the blunt head of his cock against my entrance. I welcomed the familiar burn as he pushed inside, giving myself over to the pleasure of it. Oliver quickly sheathed himself in me to the hilt, and then paused, holding his breath. I hadn’t realized it, but I was holding my breath too. I watched his face as Marcos inched into him for the first time, Oliver’s mouth falling open and his cock jumping inside me. Marcos took his time, sliding into him in increments and then holding still, no doubt waiting for Oliver to adjust to the thick girth of Marcos’s cock.
And then, Marcos began to move, which meant Oliver began to move, which meant I was going to lose my fucking mind.
From where I was, I could see both of their faces, Oliver near biting through his bottom lip as Marcos rocked into him, punching little noises out of Oliver’s mouth every time he bottomed out and shoved Oliver’s cock that much deeper inside me. Marcos looked down, his gaze fixed on the place where he was thrusting in and out of Oliver in devastating rhythm. Oliver looked conflicted in all the best ways, caught between pushing forward into me and rocking back into Marcos’s cock.
It was too much for me, seeing the two of them like this. They were truly gorgeous together, and they were both mine. Oliver’s cock brushed over my prostate, and that was all it took for me to surge upward, all control of my hips lost, and come all over myself. Untouched.
This set off something of a chain reaction. Oliver’s eyes grew as big as dinner plates as he felt me tightening around him, and within seconds he was twitching and coming inside me.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Holy shit, so tight. So fucking good. Fuck,” Marcos moaned, no doubt feeling Oliver clamp down around him, and then he too was slumped over, pouring himself into Oliver.
I was exhausted, but a quiet “oh, shit,” shook me from my almost-sleep. There was some rapid murmuring, and then they were curled up on either side of me instead.
“What was that about?” I asked, confused.
“Pregnant,” Oliver grunted, attempting explanation.
“Probably too soon to say that, wouldn’t you agree?” I asked, teasing him.
Oliver smacked my chest lightly. “I meant you!”
Marcos laughed, and then stroked over my midsection. I wasn’t showing at all, but that didn’t change the gesture. For any of us.
“Hi, there. I’m sorry I wasn’t around. I promise that won’t happen again,” he said to my belly.
“Hey,” Oliver said, reaching over to rub a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “That’s alright, Marcos. We don’t need you to apologize. We understand. It’s alright if you need to leave and help with Pedro. Just promise you’ll always come back.”
Marcos considered this for a moment before nodding. He looked up at both of us, his eyes solemn. “I promise. Always.”
I felt something unknot in my chest. That was what I’d needed, what Oliver apparently needed, too. I’d never felt more relieved than I had when I’d seen the two of them together in the kitchen this evening. Which reminded me.
“So, now that is all settled, does someone want to tell me where you two were today?”
Oliver cleared his throat, and I glanced at him in time to see him cut his eyes over at Marcos.
“Well, that’s the thing. Rob called my office today and told them a bunch of shit about me using the escort service. They suspended me.”
“What?” I asked, all the warmth I had been feeling draining from my body.
“But don’t worry, Mitch,” Marcos interjected. “We went and paid Rob a visit.”
“What?” I repeated.
Marcos tsked at me. “Let me finish. We went and paid him a visit, and it’s fixed.”
“How can you be sure?” I asked urgently.
“Oh, he’s sure,” Oliver said, smirking. “Marcos put the fear of god into him. Rob won’t ever bother us again.”
I could only imagine what they had to have done to get Rob to back down. Suddenly, I was both overwhelmed with how grateful I was for both of these amazing men, and also extremely embarrassed. Marcos hadn’t known I was an escort, didn’t know anything about what I’d been up to in all those years since school. And now, he’d not only found out, but he’d had to deal with the fallout.
“Marcos,” I said softly. “I never wanted to you find out about this like this. To be honest, and I know it’s stupid, but I was hoping you’d never really find out about it at all.” I looked down and away from him only to have him use soft hands to guide my face back to even softer eyes.
“Cariño, sweetheart, no. I could never judge you for that. I can’t imagine looking down on someone for something like that.” He stroked my cheek with infinite care. “Besides, hell, if I was half as hot as you are, maybe I would have gone down a different career path myself. All that matters is that we’re together now. All of us. Because we are, verdad?”
I nodded then kissed him in response, then Oliver, and then they kissed each other, and god, I felt lightheaded. It was dawning on me more and more with every passing second that I was free of Rob now. For good. Forever.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt lighter than air.
“You okay?” Oliver asked before pressing his lips against my shoulder.
“Am I okay? I’m so much better than okay. I have my omega and my alpha, and you all have me. I mean really have me. Thank you for this. I owe you both everything.”
I felt Oliver shake his head. “No, Mitch. We all have one another. We’re always going to have your back. That’s what family is for.”
At that moment, my stomach rumbled so loudly both men paused to look at me.
“Well, on that note, I hope you both also have my stomach. Jesus, I have the weirdest craving for pickles and peanut butter.”
Marcos pulled a sour face like he couldn’t imagine that ever tasting good. Oliver just shook his head again as if trying to clear the image from his mind completely.
“Alright, well, let me get some pants on, and I’ll—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who says you get to go,” Marcos said. It was clear he was teasing. Sort of.
“Well, we could go together,” Oliver offered, always trying to keep the peace.
“But then, who will stay here and tend to me? The poor, pregnant omega?”
Marcos rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yeah, who will take care of Mitch the ten minutes this will take?”
“I’ll have you know growing literal organs is tremendously hard work,” I complained with a sniff.
“How about we fight for it?” Oliver suggested, holding his hand fisted in his other palm. The universal sign for rock-paper-scissors.
A few seconds later and Marcos was prowling around the room gathering his clothes like he had actually won something of importance.
“Well, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Oliver looked temporarily dejected, until he scooped me back into his arms from our position in the bed.
“You know, an omega could get used to this,” I said, grinning, my mind already imagining all the ways this could come in handy for me. Oliver just laughed. He looked so relieved, so much more relaxed than he had been. I wanted to lick the laughter from his lips, so I did. I imagined what Marcos’s response would be when he came back and found us wrapped around each other, desperate and needy. I tried to picture his face sliding from surprised to aroused to famished. What would he do next? Hmm?
I hauled Oliver in closer, already slipping my hand below the sheets.
It really would be such a waste not to find out.
30
Marcos
I hadn’t been woken up by Sergeant O’Rourke’s angry three o’clock wake-up drills in a long time.
I hadn’t been woken up by the nightmares of the IED explosion in a long time.
I hadn’t been woken up by a sudden change in the noises that Pedro’s life support made in a long time.
I hadn’t even been woken up by the awkwardness of learning how to sleep in a bed with two other people in a long time.
I’d gotten used to going to bed, putting my head down on the pillow, falling asleep, and staying asleep until morning, and I was loving it. Everyone talked about how much better I looked these days, now I was eating and sleeping like a normal human being again.
Suddenly, though, all that changed.
I was woken up by a sharp kick to the small of my back, right below where my kidneys were located. I threw myself out of bed and stared down at it to see what was attacking me.
“What in the fuck is—”
Mitch was sitting up, clutching his belly with one hand while reaching in the air with the other, trying to motion that he needed help getting up.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry,” Mitch said, breathing heavily as I helped pull him to his feet. “It hurts. It hurts, Marcos.”
“It hurts?” I asked. “Like, your stomach hurts?”
“Yes. No. Yes, it hurts. No, it’s not my stomach. It’s happening. It’s happening right now.”
“But…” Oliver groggily sat up, as if trying to process the news that the baby was about to be born while still trying to fully wake himself up. “But, it’s Christmas.”
“So?” I helped Mitch sit back down on the edge of the bed. “This is Contingency B, soldier. Go!”
I pulled out pre-packed bags from the closet, counting to make sure we had everything we might need with us in case of an extended hospital stay. Contingency A was in case Mitch went into labor at home during the day. Contingency B was labor at home at night. Contingencies C through G involved different places outside of the house that labor could have started, and then Contingencies H onward just moved on to more and more unlikely scenarios.
We’d even discussed what would happen if Mitch was at the bitch brunch and he went into labor there, but we’d all agreed that as half of them are nurses and all of them have their own kids, he’d be fine.
Contingency B, however, didn’t account for the fact that, yeah, it was Christmas. Some stuff had been rearranged inside the closets and inside the house in general to decorate for Christmas. So, while Oliver threw himself to his knees to help Mitch get into the sweatpants and socks we always kept out just in case this happened, I jogged in and out of the bedroom gathering bags, counting them, and recounting them. When I was sure we had the pile of bags Oliver and I had previously assembled, coded, marked off on a checklist and packed pre-emptively, I started running the bags down to the car.
As I ran up from the car to get the last of the bags, Oliver ran past me to the living room, nearly tripping over a present by the Christmas tree.
“What happened? Where are you going? Nothing in the living room goes with Contingency B!” I yelled as I passed him.
“He doesn’t put his slippers up where he’s supposed to! I left them next to the bed, but he’s taken them, walked around in them, and shoved them god knows—Aha!” Oliver said, bending for the slippers before he ran back into the bedroom to deliver them to Mitch.
Despite the minor hitches that happen during even the most organized deployment procedures, in between Oliver’s hours at his new job—he refused to take back his old job after his suspension was lifted and found something closer to home—he and I had choreographed and practiced, gone back to the drawing board to restructure, and then practiced all of it again. By the time I had finished packing the car and had gone back upstairs to check on Oliver’s progress, Oliver had just gotten done helping get Mitch dressed. Together, Oliver and I thrust our arms around and under Mitch’s arms, picked him up from the bed, and then helped him to the car, kind of as though we were a human walker.
Something else we’d practiced over and over to Mitch’s amusement. He didn’t think it was funny now. He was breathing the same breathe-in, puff-out kind of way he’d learned in his birthing classes, so he was definitely doing his assigned part while Oliver and I brought him to the car. I had remembered to pre-open all the car doors so I wouldn’t have to let Mitch’s weight go onto Oliver while we got the door open. We both helped Mitch into the backseat, and while I jumped into the driver’s seat, Oliver scooted in beside Mitch.
“Make the call!” Oliver said as I watched him put his arms around Mitch through the rearview mirror.
“Already made it,” I answered, pulling out of the driveway. “Your slippers incident threw off our timing, so I called the hospital early while you finished upstairs.”
Calling the hospital beforehand to let them know we were coming was not something I had ever seen anyone in my family do. It had been one of Oliver’s detail-oriented additions to the plan, and I was grateful because as soon as we arrived at the emergency parking bay, two nurses were standing by with a wheelchair for Mitch. Allowing the nurses to safely transfer Mitch from the car, Oliver and I played a miniature game of “Fire Drill” just like Pedro and I used to when I was younger. I ran around the front of the car to keep up with the nurses who were wheeling Mitch away while Oliver jumped out of the backseat and hopped into the front seat, speeding away to park the car.
Two hours later, Oliver and I looked blankly at each other before staring at a calm and very unruffled Mitch who was watching some Christmas carols being sung on the television.
“What’s happening?” I asked, which must have been for the hundredth time.
Mitch shrugged. “Dunno, can’t feel much.”
“Can’t feel…” Oliver said, a little perplexed. “Nothing?”
“No— Oooh, there’s one.”
I quickly glanced at my watch, counting off the seconds as Mitch made a tiny face as if he was about to pass gas. I was all for Mitch not feeli
ng any pain, but I hadn’t realized the epidural they’d given him would have that much of an effect.
“Stopped,” Mitch said with a tiny smile. “That one was longer though.”
Oliver shook his head. I don’t know what he was expecting, but I supposed it was similar to my expectations, that we’d rush Mitch to the hospital just in time for him to give birth, and we’d quickly have a baby in our arms. This waiting was fraying on my nerves. I got up from my chair and began pacing; something I’d done for hours while at Pedro’s side.
Twenty-four contractions later, I swapped with Oliver once more. There wasn’t enough space for both of us to prowl the small room at the same time, so over the last few hours we’d taken it in turns. If I thought my nerves were frayed, Oliver’s were practically shredded.
Mitch glanced at him with a small smile. “I think this is going to take a while, why don’t you two take a proper walk. You both look like trapped tigers in here.”
“No, no, no, we’re fine. We’re not leaving you,” Oliver quickly said. “Is there anything you need, want?”
Mitch seemed to consider for a moment. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
Oliver looked at me as if I could magically make one appear.
“It’s five o’clock in the morning. I doubt anywhere would be open,” I said.
“Oh, that’s okay, it’s not like I’m getting ready to push out a baby or anything,” Mitch said, not so subtly giving me a guilt trip. Why hadn’t Oliver and I considered putting sandwiches in the bags? Or if not sandwiches, something Mitch would like? I thought we’d planned everything. Evidently not.
I guess panic must have shown on my face because Mitch chuckled. “It’s fine, sweetheart, I don’t really need anything.”
“No, I’ll go and check the vending machines. I’m bound to find something…” Before Oliver or Mitch could disagree, I headed off to find a machine I knew all hospitals allowed even though the machines didn’t actually supply healthy nutritious food.
When I got back, Mitch was in the throes of a contraction while Oliver held his hand and counted.