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"What did you want to talk about?" Aoba asks as Noiz closes the door behind him. He knows Noiz is still bothered about the whole Ren thing, but he hadn't seemed upset when he'd told Aoba he had something he needed to discuss with him, nor had his scent changed as they climbed the stairs to the upper floor.

Now, though, there's a sudden flare of new scent in the air -- coming from more than one source, Aoba can tell at once. While the room is dimly lit (Noiz hasn't bothered doing much decorating yet, but all of his computer tech has been hauled in, and green and blue and cascading-rainbow lights from various pieces of equipment provide some illumination here and there), Aoba can make out another figure here, spread out on the bed as if waiting for them. He doesn't need eyes to know that it's Clear; the scent of arousal and excitement is bright and hot, and all at once, Aoba realizes that Clear is naked in Noiz's bed.

"Didn't actually feel much like talking," Noiz says. He's stepped in behind Aoba now, before Aoba could even turn to address him, and his hands come around Aoba's body and flatten over his torso, stroking down his belly. Aoba sucks in a harsh breath while Noiz's mouth presses kisses to Aoba's shoulder, to the line of muscle leading to his neck. "This OK with you?"

Aoba shivers hard. A minute ago, he would have said no, but his mood has a way of rapidly changing when the scents of excited alpha and beta begin to swirl in the room. Besides...

It's not as if he's had an actual chance to be with just the two of them like this. When Clear came back to life, Aoba didn't begrudge him his wish to see Noiz right away; he knew there'd be time for them. Since then, they've all been busy, one way or the other, with work or other responsibilities, though they all try to make time for each other. But after Clear's return to life, one evening when it was just the two of them, Noiz had murmured something to Aoba about this particular scenario: a vision he'd had during his first time with Clear, vivid enough that it had stuck in his imagination for quite some time, and Aoba had been more than turned on by the notion.

"More than OK," Aoba says, and drags one of Noiz's hands down to cover his groin, letting Noiz feel just how turned on he is by the idea.

Aoba doesn't need to be in the middle of heat to want to be with one or more of his bondmates. It seems like he wants them all the time, really; since he went off his suppressants and started having sex, he can't get enough of it, as if he's making up for suppressing through the horny-teenager stage of his life. Right now, he's happy to be in that honeymoon phase with his bond (even if it's been a year since his first heat). He lets Noiz strip his shirt off, a shudder of want going through him when Noiz's fingers start on his belt. He's already wet, can feel himself loose and open, his cock stiffening in his jeans; he wants them both in every way they can imagine.

Once Noiz has pushed his jeans down past his hips, he gives Aoba a little push. "Go on, get comfortable," he mutters, and Aoba shoves the jeans and underwear down the rest of the way, nearly tripping as he peels off his legwarmers and stumbles to the bed. Clear has pushed himself up to watch the process; his face is high with color, mouth open, panting a little as he reaches for Aoba. Aoba sinks down gladly next to his beta, throws a leg over Clear's thigh and kisses him eagerly.

"I like it when it's like this," Clear says. "I mean, I like it when it's all of us, too, but--"

"I know what you mean." Aoba laughs, soft, and brushes a hand through Clear's soft hair. "We get to focus a bit more when it's just us." He's had opportunities to be with Clear alone, and he has indulged -- there's no reason not to, not when he still bitterly regrets that Clear couldn't be part of his first heat -- but this might be the first time it's just been himself, Noiz, and Clear.

Noiz snorts from nearby; Aoba looks up to see that while he's been reacquainting himself with the warmth of Clear's mouth, Noiz was busy getting nude. He finishes peeling his socks off and then puts a knee on the bed, not bothering to hide his prominent erection; Aoba sucks in a sharp breath as he eyes the delicious length of it, then pushes himself up onto his knees.

"What," Noiz starts to say. He gets no further in his query, only making a strangled sort of sound as Aoba gets his hands on Noiz's hips and sucks the head of Noiz's cock into his mouth. Behind him, he hears Clear give some sort of delighted gasp, and a hand rubs over his ass where it's resting on his heels. He doesn't pay too much attention, focused as he is on Noiz's cock and getting as much of it into his mouth as possible; it's not easy, given that Noiz is, like all alphas he's known, absolutely huge.

(So Aoba's a size queen, so what? He's in pretty much the best position to be one, as the omega at the center of a bond with three alphas and a beta whose creators made him to match.)

Noiz, for his part, sinks a hand into Aoba's hair and groans like the sound is being ripped out of him, and Aoba grins around his mouthful. He loves making Noiz go incoherent, all his sarcasm and youthful anger lost in unabashed lust. Today might have been about what Clear and Noiz were going to do to Aoba, but there's nothing saying Aoba can't turn the tables, at least for a little while--

Not for very long, as it turns out, because Clear's hands are on Aoba's hips now, urging him to lift up a bit, and as soon as Aoba's got an arm braced on the bed to keep himself from tipping forward there's a new heat at his opening and Aoba shouts, muffled only a little by the cock he's gagging on. Tears form in the corners of his eyes; he squeezes them shut, dragging in sharp breaths through his nose and just trying to remember his name, because holy shit, Clear's mouth on his hole is the sweetest sensation he thinks he might have ever felt, tongue digging and dragging, licking up all the slick that seems to be flowing out of Aoba right now.

"Fuck, that's hot," Noiz mutters, his low voice gone even lower, rawer, his fingers restlessly carding Aoba's hair. Aoba just wants to put his head down and cry, it's so good, he never knew there was so much pleasure to be had from this -- but Noiz's stiff cock is still in his mouth, and he's not ready to let go of that just yet either. Somehow, somehow he manages to pull back a little so that he can resume his attentions there, his one hand curled around the base and squeezing, tugging, while his mouth shapes itself around Noiz's shaft, and--

Clear's got two fingers in him already, and Aoba cries out in helpless stunned pleasure when Clear's other hand comes around to cover Aoba's cock, too, like he's just trying to wring every bit of bliss out of Aoba that he possibly can. Noiz pushes down on Aoba's head and Aoba very nearly does gag this time, a few tears spilling down his heated cheeks. He feels so used right now, like he's just a plaything for the two of them, and holy fuck he's never felt anything like it. He loves it and he feels so ashamed at the same time and it's all so good--

Aoba spills all over the sheet, moaning around Noiz's cock with three of Clear's fingers buried in his ass and Clear's clever tongue still working at his hole.

"There we go," says Noiz in a soft, approving tone. Aoba wants to melt into the bed.

He lays on his side, after, gently arranged by his alpha's and beta's hands, trying to remember how breathing works, and watches Noiz getting Clear ready. Aoba's not unfamiliar with the process, but it's fascinating all the same to watch Clear going red, the flush of arousal crawling down his chest, while Noiz's fingers work in him, slick with lube and making the same kinds of squelching sounds that Clear's fingers made in Aoba. Clear's head turns restlessly on the pillow; he reaches out, and Aoba catches the hand that stretches toward him, sucking one finger and then another lasciviously into his mouth. He doesn't taste himself there -- not the same hand -- but he licks at them as if he was taking his turn sucking Clear's cock this time, and Clear gives him a half-lidded, lost look, eyes blown dark and hazy.

"P-please," he breathes out, though it's not clear who he's addressing.

"How do you want us?" Noiz says, and for a moment Aoba thinks he's asking Clear; then he glances up and realizes Noiz is watching him. He sucks in a breath; heat fills his chest along with the strong smells of hunger and arousal in the air, Noiz's sharp electric smell, Clear's sage and salt. A new surge of need grips him, travels down his spine and makes him shake.

"I thought." Aoba's gaze travels up to Noiz, whose eyes have gone dark and hooded; his pink tongue slips out to wet his dry lips. "I thought you wanted..."

Noiz's throat works. "I know what I said." His eyes travel to Clear, who's writhing on his fingers now, helpless, hips working against the mattress, cock hard and dripping on his belly. "Aoba. Tell me what you want."

"What if I said I wanted to fuck you?" Aoba pushes up on his knees. He keeps hold of Clear's hand, their fingers tangled, moving closer to Noiz at the same time. Noiz's eyes go wide at that, but there's a new flush to his cheeks that suggests he wouldn't be averse to the idea. An alpha getting fucked by an omega, Aoba thinks, swallowing. Wouldn't that be the craziest fucking idea?

"Not right now," Aoba says. "Not tonight. But sometime." He hooks a hand at Noiz's nape and kisses him hard. "Tonight I want you in me, and..." He turns his gaze to Clear again, the panting, breathless sprawl of him utterly lovely. "And I want to be in Clear."

Even that much is transgressive, at least in Aoba's limited experience. The idea of an omega being the one to top would have been laughed at when he was in school, or even by many of the guys he'd hung out with afterwards. Omegas were for bottoming or breeding, in their less-than-educated opinions; small wonder why Aoba had continued to suppress for so long. He hadn't wanted an alpha with that kind of attitude. These days, he was glad he'd waited -- for so many reasons, not the least of which is the way Noiz only grins savagely at Aoba's proposal, while Clear moans low and grasps at Aoba's hand, gasping: "Aoba, please, yes--"

"Then get in here," Noiz tells him, and kisses him again.

Aoba shakes as he settles between Clear's thighs. He's seen Clear from this angle before, but the last time, he was riding Clear, deep into the uncontrolled need of his heat, with Koujaku behind him, holding up so he wouldn't collapse. This feels so different. He strokes his palms up along Clear's thighs, brushes the back of a hand across his forehead. Hair sticks to his neck.

"Aoba-san," Clear murmurs. His hands reach up. He makes it simple; Aoba kneels over him, bracing hands on either side of Clear's shoulders, and kisses him tenderly. Between their bodies, Aoba can feel Noiz's hand on his cock, lining him up, guiding him in.

It's awkward for a moment, strange and surreal and altogether wrong in Aoba's mind. His bondmates have gone down on him, but even that tight hot pleasure was never as dense and grasping as Clear's body is, never so much. He pushes, convulsive, feels the head of his dick push through the tight ring and in, and Clear gives the most amazing moan and clutches at Aoba's shoulders. Aoba lets himself sink in gradually, his eyes wide, breath caught in his throat. Every single part of this experience is blowing his mind, from the heat of Clear's skin against his to the impossible grip that pulls him in deeper, deeper, until there's no deeper he can go, not a breath of air between them. Aoba presses and grinds, just to feel that sensation; Clear cries out in a broken voice, head rocking back into the pillow and a gorgeous stretch of throat exposed.

"Ready for me?" Noiz says behind him, and -- fuck, it's not like Aoba had forgotten Noiz was there, not with the way the bed shifts as he moves, but more like his brain couldn't process so much information.

He swallows hard and nods, drops his head forward and opens his mouth against Clear's collarbone. "Go ahead," he breathes. He's turned on all over again, slick and open for Noiz, but even so Noiz slides a finger around his rim and in as if checking to be sure. Aoba moans into Clear's clavicle, shudders; Clear shudders too. Noiz makes a satisfied sound. A moment later, the light pressure of his finger is replaced with the far more powerful sensation of his hard cock, the head broad and blunt.

Unlike Aoba, Noiz doesn't take his time. He snaps his hips forward, drives himself into Aoba in one swift thrust. Aoba can't contain his shout: now it really nearly is too much, being stuffed full of Noiz's cock and being balls deep in Clear at the same time, just so much sensation it threatens to overwhelm him.

Clear's hand comes up to his hair, petting it with trembling fingers, while one of Noiz's hands skims over his back, along his spine, fitting to his ribcage. Aoba swallows hard, manages to lift his head. "Fuck," he pants. "S-so fucking much."

Noiz makes a sound like a laugh, bends forward; Aoba feels a kiss pressed between his shoulderblades. "You'll survive," he says, and Aoba laughs, too, because there's really nothing else he can do.

Somehow, they find a rhythm. It takes a minute, since Aoba's still adjusting to the astonishing heat filling and surrounding him; the intensity of it recedes a little as Noiz pulls back, and then Aoba can adjust himself, getting his knees under Clear's thighs, pulling Clear onto his lap for an angle that lets him get even deeper into his beta's body. Clear plants his feet on the mattress and lifts up to meet Aoba's first tentative thrusts; as Aoba finds his pace, Noiz does too, pulling back when Aoba drives into Clear, then thrusting into Aoba when he draws back. It's not perfect -- at one point Noiz slips right out of Aoba, and curses as he fits himself back in -- but every moment is so good that Aoba wouldn't dream of being upset. He loves being with his bondmates. He gives Clear a manic grin; Clear hooks a hand around Aoba's neck and pulls him down for a hard, hungry kiss, their teeth clacking, his tongue caught and bitten for a moment.

The pain shocks a laugh out of him -- it's not a real injury, there's no blood or anything -- but Clear starts to apologize anyway, so to distract him from that, Aoba shifts his weight to one hand and circles Clear's cock with the other. That does the trick: Clear moans, his back arching, and Noiz bites at Aoba's shoulder and mutters, "God, he's so fuckin' hot, right?" into Aoba's ear; for a moment they're both absorbed by the sight of Clear, lost in pleasure, wracked by it, hair a disheveled mess, nipples standing to attention, pre-come dripping all over his belly.

Aoba drags in a deep breath and nearly loses his mind, the air is so full of the smells of them, of sex and sweat and bone-deep hunger. He drapes himself back against Noiz and pants. "Make us come," he says. Noiz groans in his ear; his hand seeks down, covers Aoba's on Clear's erection.

"So fuckin' gorgeous, both of you, I can't believe I get to do this," Noiz chants. His hand flies on Clear's cock, guiding Aoba's, their fingers tangled together as Noiz drives hard into Aoba now. Every thrust slaps against Aoba's ass, hitting him so nicely if not quite in that exact spot, and Aoba thinks he'd be happy to be like this forever -- except he'd still want Mink and Koujaku (and their last link, Ren, somehow, someday--)...

Noiz growls and shifts, pushes them forward a little. Aoba manages to catch himself before he simply collapses on Clear, knees sprawled under Clear's ass and his own butt raised up just enough that Noiz can really pound into him. It's all Aoba can do to hold on now, with Noiz's hands gripping his thighs, fingers digging into his skin, every thrust nailing him just right, and Aoba's coming, hot and wet and buried deep in Clear's tight body, his hand still wrapped around Clear's cock. He moans into Clear's collarbone, the world spinning around him, his only anchor the men before and behind him.

"Your turn," he hears Noiz say, but of course he's speaking to Clear this time. Clear gulps hard, shifts his hips a little, and Aoba finds the energy to work Clear's cock again between their sweaty bellies. He feels Noiz close behind him, still moving; Clear comes suddenly, a spurt of wet between them, and Aoba looks up to see Clear's mouth open on a voiceless moan of stunned pleasure.

Letting go of Clear, Aoba reaches behind himself now, grasping at Noiz's thigh or ass or wherever he can reach. "Noiz," he pants, stunned at how raw and hoarse his own voice is. "Noiz, want to feel you now, c'mon, let go, give me your knot, I want to feel it--"

He feels sweat dripping from Noiz, pattering on his back, as Noiz's thrusts go ragged and fierce, fast and shallow and desperate. He's going to have bruises on his hips tomorrow, five on each side, where Noiz's fingertips dug into his skin. He doesn't even care. "Fuck, yes, come in me," Aoba pleads, and finally, with a keening moan, Noiz does. His hips stutter and slow as his knot swells, each thrust rougher than the last now. The growing knot grinds against Aoba's rim; overstimulated, overwhelmed, Aoba shudders, making incoherent sounds of mingled pain and pleasure. At last, there comes that moment where Noiz can't pull back, tied in Aoba's body by the fullness of his knot. He groans, finally, one last rough utterance of pleasure before he all but flops on Aoba's back, forcing a grunt out of Aoba's lungs.

Clear's arms come up around all of them, then, so that Aoba couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. Sandwiched between the two of them, he tips his head sideways and sucks in lungfuls of air.

"We'll move in a minute," Noiz mumbles into his shoulderblade. He can feel Noiz heaving for breath, too, and reaches back again to pat Noiz's thigh. Maybe he shouldn't have asked Noiz to knot him, but he always loves the sensation of being so full, sated and surrounded by his lovers, marked by their scents, warmed by their skin.

"You're fine." Clear gives a soft, affectionate laugh. "You're not heavy at all."

Aoba closes his eyes, smiling. Of course their weight wouldn't bother Clear. They will move, eventually, but not just yet. Aoba's not ready to leave this moment. He reaches for Noiz again, gets a hand tucked into his own, and pulls it close to his chest. Clear's lips brush his forehead. Aoba lets himself drift between alpha and beta, relaxed and content.