Chapter 1: Stage Left
Chapter Text
Ivy can’t sleep.
He’s tried -kicked off his boots, thrown himself down on the motel’s freshly laundered bedding, stared at the cream-colored ceiling for over an hour- but his body won’t settle. His instincts are chewing on themselves and remain coiled tight in his gut. It’s not just the job offer. It’s more complicated than that.
It’s him.
II.
Ivy doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s met numerous Omegas before; worked with a few of them, protected a few out of instinctual need, and bedded one or two out of instinctual desire. But this is something else entirely. It isn’t passing lust, and it isn’t mere fascination. It’s a chokehold. As if something in his wiring and circuitry seized the very second that he laid eyes on II; and it hasn’t let go of him since.
And that makes no goddamn sense to him.
II’s already been claimed. Twice.
There’s no territory left to stake. No room to wedge into a pack that moves like a locked-in, breathing and well-oiled machine. Vessel’s claim constantly sits like a brand in the very air, and III moves around II with such quiet deference that Ivy almost hadn't clocked the bassist as an Alpha at first. And II, II has that bite, that sharpness, as if he knows that he’s a contradiction. An Omega who bristles and challenges instead of bows and placates.
Ivy barely held it together in the audition room after he had glimpsed him. Constantly a single breath away from growling. From posturing. From putting on a show for the Omega as if he was a fucking adolescent and desperate for his attention. And for what?
A job?
No.
It’s not the job.
It's just another side hustle. Another group that he's not at the front of to pay the bills.
It's not the job.
It’s II.
His scent still lingers in Ivy’s nose all these hours later. Deliciously sweet and bold, but cut with something angry, fierce. Like lavender that's being crushed by strong hands, and honey that's been harvested from an angry hive. Vanilla that's spiced and simmering over an open flame for fragrance. It’s alive, curls around Ivy’s thoughts, lingers in his mind, and refuses to leave him.
He wants him.
What's worse is that he wants to keep him. To protect him. To curl around him and bare his sharp teeth at anything that even thinks about getting too close.
It's insanity.
Ivy rubs his hands over his face and sits up, bracing his elbows on his knees. He should say no and walk away. It's the logical thing to do, and no established pack worth its scent would let a stray Alpha come sniffing around their bonded Omega. He isn’t wanted. He’s merely useful, a body to fill a role. A pair of hands to strum a guitar and a voice to project to avoid Vessel straining his own.
And yet...
II had looked at him, really looked. Completely unafraid and unabashedly curious. As if he saw through him in an instant and dissected the finer parts of Ivy's designation, the very ones that had taken doctors and behavioral analysts years to uncover.
Defensive. Protective. Aggressive. Possessive.
A rare, branching type of presentation that was favored by bodyguards and security teams.
The type that latched onto others with fixation and claimed without teeth.
The type that would set ablaze the world itself to keep watch over the embers alongside their chosen fixation.
The type that would smash fists through bones without hesitation.
And maybe that’s the reason for the abrupt decay and rot in Ivy’s decision-making ability now.
He’s not a follower, but he’s never quite been a lone wolf either. He’s always needed something to guard, to observe, to watch over without shame. Something worth bleeding for.
This isn’t his own band, the one he fronts. It isn’t his tight-knit family who rely on his steady presence, either.
He knows what the true desire to protect looks like now, knows what form it takes within him.
It looks like II.
Ivy leans back against the rickety headboard with his jaw tightly clenched. His sharp fangs throb, feeling hollow without flesh between them and aching from the leftover scent of spiced sweetness that refuses to leave his nose. Tomorrow, he’ll finally respond to III's message and formally accept the gig. Not for the exposure, and not for the tour. Not even for the music -although, he admits that it is really damn good.
Still, his reason is for II.
Even if he's merely a hired gun, it means that he’ll be near II. And if there’s even a single chance that II might want him back someday, and be permitted to do so by those who hold his claim...
Ivy would burn for it.
-
III asks him out for coffee the next morning before Ivy can respond to his previous text. The one asking if he's taking up the offered work or not.
The cafe is bustling in spite of the early morning hours, the sun having only just begun to peek above the horizon. Ivy thinks that he slept for an hour, maybe two, before he woke up once more to the memory of flowers in his nostrils. In spite of the amount of patrons in the building, he finds an available four top and claims it, waiting patiently for his order to be brought to him. He's early and has time to kill, so he scrolls his phone and the unread notifications on it. Eventually, his thoughts drift to III.
III is unlike any Alpha he's met before.
There’s a certain level of calm to him that doesn’t make sense. III is boisterous and loud, and his stature is imposing, but he's never been unpleasant. Alphas weren’t built to be soft. At least, not in Ivy’s experience. Their kind weren't particularly polite by default, and most would’ve puffed up already; tested him, staked their scent in the air just to make a point, especially when II was introduced to him, no matter how brief their encounter was.
Ivy supposes that III didn’t feel the need to posture. III was large, solid, and unmovable.
It throws Ivy off far more than he’d care to admit. He doesn't know if he admires him for it, or wants to test his limits, to see what it would take to see those sharp teeth of his.
Ivy's not the type either, though.
Vessel confuses him more than III; perhaps even more than II.
With III it was easy to be disarmed and find him intriguing, enigmatic and charismatic in a way that belied his true quiet strength. And II's influence on Ivy was obvious, instinctual. Ingrained in every fiber of his DNA from the moment that he had presented, perhaps even before.
Ivy's barely exchanged more than a handful of words with the pack leader. Vessel and II were, in large, a mere presence behind a pane of glass while Ivy performed for them and showcased his own talent. Auditioning for a job that he knows he's going to take, even if it's not good for his heart and mind. It was only after his audition concluded that III had led him out of that room and to where Vessel sat with II, hand firmly on the Omega's thighs, his scent strangely undetectable.
Or maybe it hadn't been, but all Ivy remembers in that moment is piercing blue eyes, soft blond hair, and II. Not behind a pane of glass. Not a passing face he saw before he was ushered behind it. Just II.
Vessel's presence was suffocating but absent of rememberable scent. Ivy tries to remember if it was bergamot or patchouli-
It was salt water, crystalline, the smell of a thunderstorm on the ocean’s horizon. His presence? Entering a vacuum, a void, a quiet place that snuffed out everything. Everything but lavender, freshly gathered honey, and simmering vanilla, swirling with spices.
"You're early."
Ivy's head whips up, blinking away his surprise as he takes note not only of his freshly arrived coffee -when did that get there? - but also of the trio who surround his table. III offers him a beaming grin, pale hair catching the early morning sun, and oh, he's got two mating bites. Ivy blinks harshly, studying the lines and shapes on III's exposed neck. One is small, made with incredibly sharp teeth and pressed in the dead center of his scent gland. The other is large with clear fang mark indentations, the work of an Alpha, positioned a hair lower. It sits at the edge of the bassist's scent gland, stretching down to where his shoulder meets his neck.
Possessive.
"Vessel's handiwork," III chirps with a knowing glint in his eyes as Ivy averts his own. "Dominant Alpha."
"A bit early on to be discussing this," Vessel muses as he pulls out a seat the farthest away from Ivy's own.
Ivy studies him for a moment, his eyes calculating as he sweeps over Vessel's form. He's clad head to toe in black, an oversized hoodie pulled over his broad shoulders and tight black pants that accentuate the length of his legs. Brown hair swept perfectly from his endless, dark eyes. There's tension in his jaw and the way it's set.
"A Dominant Alpha, huh?" Ivy parrots as Vessel stands slightly to the side and II emerges from behind him, quietly mumbling something to the singer before he sits in the offered seat.
Ivy can't help but look at him.
II's beyond gorgeous, pale skin and soft, fluffy hair. His eyes the most piercing shade of blue that Ivy's ever seen, clear like a shimmering lake. There's definition in his body that acts in juxtaposition to the softness in his face, even if there's a certain toughness in the Omega's eyes. His arms are well defined, noticeable through his tight-fitting black jacket, but nothing is more defined than his legs. Ivy catches the barest peek at them before II sits, and his instincts flare within himself in response, scent flaring with it. They look soft in spite of their definition, Ivy thinks, before he reels himself in.
Amber and sun warmed leather leave the air as he breathes in deep, but Ivy can't smell II's intoxicating scent any longer.
Only Vessel's typhoon, and III's smoldering hearth, laced with smoked cedarwood. Instinctual.
The other Alphas eye him warily, but Ivy effectively stifles his own burgeoning wants.
"I can claim anyone," Vessel says as he pointedly takes a seat directly next to II, leaving the seat beside Ivy to III. "Omegas, or other Alphas. Multiple people, too."
"Never thought I'd have an Alpha as a mate, but here we are." III giggles as he happily takes up his own seat, but his smile is more disarming than honest. "Before we divulge anything else, are you taking the offer for work?"
"Yeah," Ivy answers quickly, his eyes flitting to II's pale blues before he reaches for his coffee. "I'm keen."
“You're sure?” III questions with an inclination of his head, a little more serious now. Serious, but not posturing. Never posturing, it seems. “Because touring with a pack like this? It’s not all just music and late-night petrol station runs. It’s territories and boundaries. A closeness that you don’t get to escape from just because it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable for you.”
"I'm in, mate." Ivy assures him before sipping from his coffee. It's bitter, too bitter for how overpriced it was, but he doesn't mind. "Not here to stir the pot. It's business at the end of the day."
“Our collective anonymity is non-negotiable. No names. No faces. No personal posts unless approved by us or management. You don't tell your mates our names, or even your own mum.” Vessel finally speaks again, quiet but final. There is no need for posturing from him, Ivy can tell. Vessel's eyes are kind but his teeth, they're wicked. His musculature and mere presence? Unintentionally threatening. Ivy's Alpha bristles, hates being challenged, being called upon. But there is a more important undercurrent within him that overwrites base instinct.
Protect. Defend. Cherish. Keep safe. There is no challenge to this.
Ivy breathes in deep, catches the barest hint of lavender, and nods along behind the rim of his coffee mug.
"You don't talk much," Ivy comments as his gaze once more falls to II.
"I'm studying you," II says flatly, but Ivy's heartbeat quickens all the same. "You're nervous."
"You think?" He returns with a raised brow as he sets his mug down, but II merely hums.
"Vessel's got the final word on all things pertaining to the band, and us." II tells him after a moment of silent observation. The things it does to Ivy's heartbeat are made apparent once more in his scent, unwilling to be contained any longer.
Ivy's reading too much into it, but he smiles all the same.
Sharp, wicked in a way he wonders if Vessel loathes or appreciates, and charming beyond belief.
"I don't fancy submitting myself to someone else's judgement, but it's work, and I'm not here to rock the boat." Ivy responds honestly before draining the rest of his bitter coffee. Vessel's brow twitches at that, minute but noticeable. Ivy knows it sounds like a challenge.
Because subtly, or perhaps not subtly, it is one.
"You step out of line, and we'll sever ties with you completely. No questions asked and no second chances." Vessel says sternly, the ocean flaring in his scent and the tide catching alongside the growl behind his teeth. Ivy rumbles in response, unaccustomed to the instinctual wariness that Vessel's presence brings him.
“Easy, love,” III mutters as he gently bumps Vessel’s knee under the table; not hard enough to provoke, but enough to ground him. “We like this one so far, remember?”
Ivy won't step out of line. Not at the risk of losing the one at the center of his Alpha's fixation, the one he wants to guard and defend. Not now, not ever.
"Look, we've been burned bad before." III admits, perhaps a bit too honestly. Vessel snaps at him then, silencing the bassist with a snarl before III chuffs. II, all the while, sits there, continuing to observe and not once interfering. Not even to calm his mates’ ire. "Point is, you got to defer to Vessel if you're going to be touring with us."
"On matters pertaining to music, publicity, and travel arrangements, I agree." Ivy nods along, words that Vessel chews over for a moment before his growling grows quieter. It is then that II rolls his pretty oceanic eyes and gently headbutts the Dominant Alpha, silencing his growls. Ivy hears Vessel whine, and knows it must be heavenly for him. To have II smother him with the scent of flowers and warm spices. To impart an immediate sense of calm over him.
"Guess that settles it then," III concedes as he reaches across the table for Vessel's ring covered hand. Ivy sees the action for what it is. Subtle submission, a bid to appease the more dominant partner, and Vessel doesn't hesitate to take the olive branch before him.
III may be an enigma, one growing more curious as the days that they know one another grow, but Vessel is something else entirely.
Ivy's Alpha screams of danger without reason.
His mind screams with intrigue.
"We'll forward over the legal paperwork," Vessel adds on, garnering his attention. "Have it signed by tomorrow morning. Rehearsals begin on Friday, so have the material hammered out as well as you can."
"Gonna be a nightmare for travel," Ivy acknowledges as he meets Vessel's gaze, noticing how his eyes turn the color of smoked caramel in the sun's rising light. "I live in Wales, only here for a visit."
"Better get an extended stay then," Vessel says as he slowly rises from the table, dislodging his hand from III's but all but taking II with him. Ivy catches one last sight of fluffy blond hair before the singer's imposing form replaces it. Ivy's teeth ache with want, ache with challenge, but he cannot deny that Vessel strikes an impressive sight before him. "Sign the papers and we'll cover the cost under travel expenses."
"Cheers," Ivy says with a genuine grin, nodding his head curtly. "Looking forward to working with you lads."
"We are too," III chuckles as he rises from his seat, his towering figure, too, making for an impressive sight.
"Don't disappoint us," II says from behind Vessel before they all depart.
Ivy snickers to himself as he gets up and orders another cup of coffee.
It's more bitter than the last, but once more he doesn't mind it in the slightest.
-
II is absolutely radiant.
IV's never been so consumed by someone, so blinded.
Sweat pours from the Omega's brow like rain, dripping down his cheeks, dusted pink from his efforts. Ivy's keen eyes notice the tremble in his limbs every time that he reaches for his energy drink. Every time that he wipes sweat from his flushed face. Yet, II's arms and legs never once shake as he strikes his kit with precision and sets the rhythm that they all obediently follow.
The practice spaces absolutely reeks of all of them.
Of Vessel's cold water and damp sand, his magnetic presence accompanying his scent as he once more rolls his long neck and sings again; his voice perfection, Ivy's almost jealous of him. III's smokey, warm scent lingers on the periphery, just underneath Vessel's own. Together, they nearly drown out II's own, only noticeable when Ivy strays from his mic stand and pads closer to the drummer's kit. Ivy doesn't allow himself to linger long, knowing his fingers will slip on the strings if he becomes too distracted; and II is far too distracting.
Ivy doesn’t want to risk it, posturing now and earning himself an untimely exit when he’s only just begun.
Still, II's kind in spite of his quiet fire, Ivy thinks. The drummer has Vessel and III wrapped around his finger, has them both at his beck and call. Eager and willing to drop everything to make sure that their little mate is comfortable, sated.
Ivy's jealousy tangs the air before he reels it in, stifling the spike in sour notes with heady leather and warm amber as he makes a few minor adjustments to his approach and rejoins the song. They're patient with him, offering him quiet looks and nods of approval periodically as he navigates their extensive discography.
Ivy understands why III leaves the creative process to the singer and drummer the further involved that they get.
The bassist has his own side projects, but it's more than apparent that Vessel and II breathe for their sole passion and craft, their combined art.
Ivy's envious of the ease in which it seems to come to them, the minor adjustments they make on the fly that work unbelievably well. He agonizes over his own work, hypercritical over every aspect of it, from lyrics to riffs, and every beat in-between.
For II and Vessel, it looks like second nature.
"Shit," he curses, his skin splitting on his fingertips as blood seeps from his callused skin and drips down his finger's length. "Too used to being a frontman these days."
"Happens when I play too much nowadays, too." Vessel tells him through the microphone before shutting it off and fetching a nearby tissue from its box. IV takes it with an appreciative nod before pressing it to his split skin, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries in vain to not look them all over. Fails.
Vessel's hair is pushed out of his face, an admittedly perfectly angled and handsome one. His pupils are blown wide even if his lips are pressed back into an approximation of a wolfish grin. The juxtaposition is dizzying. Enigmatic. Charismatic without effort.
III's hair is a wild mess, his smile a thing of pride and appreciation as he stretches his lengthy limbs and audibly cracks his neck. He's all energy, a live wire. Not a single part of it strikes Ivy as off putting, defensive or otherwise. He's imposing to be certain in stature alone, but Ivy remains incapable of parsing his nature. Nurturing, yes, but Ivy wonders if there's something more to it beneath the other Alpha's cocky grin.
II is ethereal, enrapturing, blinding to look at. Ivy knows that the drummer has clouded his judgement, knows that where he stands now is a confusing place where he himself has already gone back on his word; blurred the lines of business dealings and personal wants.
Ivy's never met someone like II, never met an Omega who consumes his thoughts and rationale outside of the desire for intimacy.
II blinds him, drowns him in pale light and flower fields, but Ivy knows how fruitless it is.
Vessel's strong, protective and possessive, eccentric but overwhelmingly in love with II. III's no different in that regard; absurdly obsessed with his little mate, enjoys physically enveloping him entirely with his much larger body, and drowning II in his scent.
There is no room in the equation for Ivy to slot into, that's been made clear from the get-go.
Ivy questions what it would take for him to make one. If it meant sliding to his knees before III, or baring his unmarked neck for Vessel's wolfish teeth, but Ivy's Alpha recoils at the idea.
He's the protective type, defensive, headstrong, defiant; not one to go down without a fight.
Ivy wonders for the briefest of moments if Vessel and III would fight him for that particular brand of submission.
"IV."
"Sorry," Ivy laughs awkwardly as he spins around, catching a glimpse of the speaker, before drowning in endless blue.
"You feel comfortable with the songs we've worked on so far?" II asks, all business, but there's a glint in his eyes. As if the sun's rays have pierced through the studio's walls and reached him, bathing him in gold. Ivy thinks that it looks pretty on him; his Alpha thinks that it looks an awful lot like knowing.
"For the most part," Ivy answers him with a grin, lopsided as it is. It's not wolfish like Vessel's, nor cocky like III's; but it's confident. Poised, charming, everything that he's always been without intention or meaning.
Yet, for the first time, it feels clumsy on his lips.
"Let's take it from the top one last time," II doesn't ask, he commands.
The practice room stills. Even Vessel exhales like someone who is relieved to be told what to do.
Ivy’s Alpha doesn’t bristle. It buckles. Obeys. Wants nothing more than to kneel, to curl around II’s muscular legs like something feral and entirely possessed. It’s almost embarrassing how instantaneous it is. It's almost humiliating how fixated he is on that which he can't have.
Vessel and III follow II's word without complaint.
And Ivy?
He wouldn't complain even if he wanted to.
Chapter 2: Spotlight
Notes:
Once a week updates is the max time frame, okay? I update early. A lot. Hope that people don't mind that. ^^;
Wow. I was not expecting so much love over the first chapter. I'm incredibly grateful and hope that you all continue to enjoy this fic! It's been a lot of fun so far. I've also enjoyed reading all of your lovely comments. <3
That all being said, this is not beta-read; so please pardon any mistakes.
Since there's nothing particularly heavy in this fic, we're not doing chapter warnings to avoid spoilers. If someone requests them for future updates, I can throw them in the end notes.
As always, enjoy and take care!
Chapter Text
Ivy doesn’t usually roam freely with established packs.
There's too much potential for posturing, too many unwritten rules about who pays for what, who leads, and who gets the last word. But when Vessel had tossed the suggestion out so casually after an impromptu rehearsal -“We’re hitting the shopping district this afternoon. Come get some new stagewear. We can't have you showing up on tour looking like a disheveled stray.”- Ivy had said yes before he even thought about it.
That’s how he ends up trailing through a boutique. A darkly lit maze of black fabric, gold and silver chain details, and unique silhouettes. Vessel saunters ahead of them, pausing every so often to point out a rack with the absent-minded confidence of someone who commands silent authority and is used to things being done his way. III sticks much closer to II, fingers brushing his wrist even now and then, acting as a subtle anchor. Their conversations are hushed. Whispered and mostly private.
And Ivy just... watches them.
He tries not to stare but fails instantly when II picks up a tight-fitting black jacket with metal accents and dark ribbons threaded through the eyelets on the sleeves. Lavender flares with interest, intrigued and pleased. II looks reverent as he runs his fingers over it, his lips moving into something contemplative, before he glances up and catches Ivy looking.
II’s pale blue eyes rake over him for a moment, measured and unreadable, before he sets the jacket aside and drifts quietly to Vessel’s side.
Ivy doesn’t think. Can't think. His body simply moves to the rack and grabs the piece and tucks it into his arm before making a beeline to the back row. There are leather coats there. Good quality, too. They smell like he does, a familiar staple in his wardrobe. He doesn't need another, and he definitely doesn't need the two that he grabs, but he throws them over the garment in his arms and whistles as he makes for the checkout counter.
A passing Alpha glances at him, and Ivy can’t help but puff up as he walks past him with his purchases. It’s too easy then, to posture; to remind the stranger of his presence. Especially when II is involved. Especially when it’s II’s gift that he holds.
Behind him, there’s a pause. Then a faint huff of laughter.
“Typical Guardian Alpha doing Guardian things,” Vessel murmurs to his little mate. Not quietly.
“Huh?” Ivy blinks and turns.
"Didn't think we had your number, did you?" III’s smile is gentler, but no less pointed.
“No, I didn’t,” Ivy says with a furrowed brow. Defensive, fast.
“Leave him be, it's fine.” II says, faintly amused. “Finish your shopping so we can get out of here.”
It’s not okay, Ivy wants to argue but not when it comes from II. Still, it’s embarrassing. It’s primal and unprofessional and unlike him, and -how do they even know that I’m a Guardian? I want a refund on my countless behavioral analyst appointments, thank you very much.
He doesn’t ask them how. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of confirming what they clearly already know.
Instead, he pivots. Resorts to banter. Comfortable territory, the kind that stifles the growl rumbling in his chest at being clocked so immediately.
“Do you always psychoanalyze your new bandmates while shopping?” He asks as he lays his purchases on the countertop with bravado and confidence, defaulting to what's familiar. Routine. His Alpha bristles again. Hates being embarrassed. But truthfully, Ivy had acted before he had even realized why and he's more embarrassed over that than anything.
“Yes,” Vessel answers flatly, but his mouth twitches upwards. A grin; wolfish. Intimidating if he were a lesser man, a weaker Alpha, but he isn't. Maybe comparatively speaking, maybe operating on the baseline assumption that Vessel really is the rarest of the rare.
The Holy Grail of Alphas.
Something corny like that; the kind of thing that olden kingdoms went to wars over to wed their offspring to or prostrated before in hopes of receiving their aid. Charismatic beyond belief, stupidly strong. Ivy’s Alpha grumbles before he can stop it; loud enough to startle the poor Beta woman behind the counter. He slams a fist against his chest and glares at nothing in particular.
Ivy feels stupid, hates how the tips of his ears burn.
II is off limits, he knows this already. It’s been established from the get go.
But that doesn't stop him from swiping his credit card -he's already got debt, what's a little more? - and handing the separate bag off to II as he passes by both of the Omega's mates.
Ivy thinks that he hears Vessel laugh as the door to the shop swings shut behind him.
-
The motel room smells like old pine cleaner and overbearing laundry detergent. Ivy’s worn jacket is slung over the room’s single chair, his guitar case resting against the wall.
It’s mostly quiet, save from the soft buzz of people talking down the hall.
He’s collapsed on the uncomfortable mattress, fully clothed, with one arm thrown over his face to block out the ceiling fan’s stuttering flicker. The bag from earlier sits on the nightstand. Two more things he doesn't need, bought with money that he doesn't have. He hasn’t unpacked it. He'll probably return it. Or maybe he won't; too embarrassed to ask for reimbursement. Not from the woman he scared with his posturing. And not from the bandmates he's recently gained that see through him as if he were the glass that he had watched II through in the audition room.
"Fucking idiot,” Ivy mutters, voice hoarse. Strained, annoyed with himself, and tired.
Buying that gift for II had felt, at the time, like nothing. A passing whim. A blink. An instinct. And now it won’t leave him alone.
The way II caught him staring.
The way the Omega hadn’t said no when Ivy handed it over.
Vessel's bark of a laugh.
Of course they knew. And that was a problem. That was always going to be a problem.
Ivy rubs his palm against his chest as if it’ll stop the warmth that blooms there when he thinks about how small II had looked beside Vessel. How small he had looked beside III. About how the little Omega had leaned into any offered touch by his mates. About how he’d smiled, amused but knowing, as if he’d seen straight through Ivy once again. Had him dead to rights a second time.
Ivy knows it's II who read him like a book the first time. Divulged to his partners what he is.
Idly, he wonders what their search history must look like; if they've decided he's worth the effort of having around when he's always going to be defensive. Ivy doesn't buckle to instinct, not like he buckled for II. Continues to buckle for II. It's frustrating, being at odds with yourself. Not knowing why him, why now?
Why someone already claimed?
Ivy growls lowly in his throat, an angry thing, and kicks a boot off hard enough that it thuds against the opposing wall from the bed.
“This is a job,” he tells himself and the otherwise empty room.
But his scent is going sour. Frustration curdling in the air. Catching in his nostrils. Putting pressure on his throat.
Yet, some instinctual part of him still remembers the sound of II’s quiet amusement and thinks you did good. Thinks he accepted your gift, didn't he?
And Ivy hates that thought most of all. Hates that it feeds into that instinct.
Hates that it gives him hope.
-
"Cute. You're in love, mate."
"Telling you was clearly a mistake," Ivy bemoans as he glares angrily at the alarm clock. The hour is ungodly. But he's not tired. Can't sleep. Can't get the sound of Vessel's laugh out of his head. The image of III's hands on the little Omega. Or II's pretty little smile.
Really just II in general.
"Nah, but look here. There's a difference between fixating and what you're doing." Jack, his oldest friend, laughs on the other end of the line. "You're trying to court him by the sound of it. Honestly, don't know how you're still breathing. You're a tough bloke but a Dominant Alpha? Make mincemeat out of you in a second, bruv."
"It was a whim," Ivy gripes. Grumbles. A tired growl caught too lowly in his throat.
"A whim, eh? That what we're calling courting someone now?" Jack cackles, his voice teasing. Ivy hangs up the phone, groans again. Mulls over his words, thinking them over. Ignores the incoming call with a quick fuck off text. Then, he pulls up the phone's search engine.
His fingers fly over the screen. His words misspelled and made worse by auto correct. Eventually he finds what he's looking for. Doesn't like what he reads and promptly exits the app and slams his phone on the nightstand.
"I'm not courting someone I can't have," he tells the air, rather angrily. "It's just a fucking fixation."
Heat coils in his stomach. Winds and rises beneath the skin of his cheeks as he rethinks the words he had just read.
II had accepted his gift.
"He has a mate, you dumb cunt. Two of them," Ivy reminds himself. Digs his palms in his tired eyes. Tries to will away the thoughts in his mind, and the simmering warmth that's spread throughout him. His cock twitches, and nope, he's not doing that. Not getting himself all worked up over a meaningless gesture on II's behalf. II was being nice, that was all. Vessel was only teasing him. III's smug words of knowing could fuck right off, too.
Ivy buries his face in his too-soft motel pillow and screams into the fabric.
It's just a job. It's just a job. It's just a job. I'm not here for anything but the paycheck. I'm simply fixated on him, that's all.
It's a lie. Every part of it. Ivy knows that. Doesn't want to acknowledge it. His body responds anyway as he gives in to temptation and coils a hand around himself.
"Fuck," he breathes out against the damp linen beneath his lips. He's painfully hard, leaking against his palm. It doesn't take much. Not when there's lavender stuck in his nose still. Not when there's so much desire coiled in his gut. He shudders hard, moaning a name he shouldn't as he spills into his hand. Pathetically fast. Everything about this is pathetic, he knows.
He has rehearsals in the morning. In four hours, really.
As he cleans off his hand in the leaky bathroom faucet, he can't bring himself to look his reflection in the eyes.
-
The next morning, before rehearsal, Ivy showers in record time and even rips off the tags on his new leather coat.
It carries a scent just like his own.
He may or may not want II to notice that.
The little Omega looks absolutely radiant in the early morning light as he greets him outside. II's pale eyes and hair are kissed by crimson and gold, a perfect image. Even if he's sporting one of his mates' oversized hoodies. Or maybe not oversized. Vessel and III were fucking gigantic. Still, there’s something captivating about II that commands his attention without asking for it. It's not loud or performative. Contrary to the drummer's line of work. Just… gravitational.
Ivy knows it's instinct; but II is an anomaly. A whirlwind. A solar flare.
Blinding.
Ivy flushes as he thinks about how his name had tasted on his lips last night when he came apart.
"Morning," II greets him, nods his head and fuck, there it is.
Two claim marks, both huge against his slender neck. Vessel's is deep, possessive, his teeth not as sharp as an Omega's own but far more dangerous. III's slots against the other's Alpha's, fills in the gaps. Cris-crossed. Deep, too. Like he had lost himself in II's smooth skin when his teeth were pressed so closely against flower-fields and warm vanilla.
It speaks volumes. Vessel's claim was older. First. III's easily undone with Vessel's mere saliva if he so wished it. But it's there. Prominent, not understated. No less than his own.
Ivy's teeth ache when he nods by the way of greeting as he makes for the door. Holds it open for the Omega first. Grins when II doesn't deny him that. It's only when they're inside and he's set his case aside that Ivy first senses it. The heady scent that radiates off of II. Covers Ivy's own and the smell of new leather completely. Covers Vessel's and III's, and that, that's odd, Ivy thinks. Instincts flare, rationalizing. Calculating, weighing causes.
Vessel answers the unformed question before Ivy's Alpha can.
"Come here," the Dominant Alpha beckons, voice a husky purr as he motions for his little mate. Something in Ivy startles, on edge. He's never met someone like II, he's established that. But he's never met someone like Vessel, either. Makes sense to him why he hadn't. Dominant Alphas really are just that rare.
II leaves Ivy in the doorway without hesitation. Drawn forward; a moth to flickering flame. Vessel cocoons him in his arms in an instant, all soft touches and a reverent smile. Nothing wolfish about him like this. Gentle like a lamb.
"A bit early, little love." III grumbles as he strides forward and abandons his bass in the process. Ivy feels a pang of jealously then, sours the air with it before he can think of stopping it. II looks blissful where he stands. Vessel's large hands coiled around his small waist. III's hands soon after finding a place on the Omega's shoulders.
Ivy feels like the outsider that he is as he stands there. Drowning in saccharine honey, and calming lavender. Sun kissed leather buried in warm, simmering vanilla. His cock twitches with interest. He tells it, and himself, not the fucking time. It doesn't care. Makes the heat spreading over his skin worse, more noticeable. He feels like he's on fire.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Vessel asks softly, but there's a hint of edge in his dark eyes. Ivy catches it as he swallows the lump in his throat. The burgeoning want for a mere taste of the scent that fills the air.
"Hit me all at once. Just now." II explains away but there's a faraway lilt in his voice. Melodic, like the words that his Dominant partner sings. Ivy chokes back the pitiful grumble in his throat as II gently leans forward and presses himself fully against Vessel's broad chest. He watches pale blue behind the fluttering of blond lashes before II shuts his pretty eyes and breathes in softly. There's an ocean in the air and salt in Ivy's lungs as Vessel coos something sickeningly sweet to his Omega.
His Omega.
Ivy presses painful half-moons into the palms of his hands. Stifles the instinct that coils in his chest. The warmth in his skin and the burning desire that lights a fire in his eyes. His Alpha howls its distaste and disdain, but II is safe in the sight before him. Curled up in his mates' twin embraces, sheltered from the world around him. Shielded from even Ivy himself.
There's no room for him in the pretty picture before him.
"Let III take you home," Vessel does not ask, and II does not complain. There's no trace of defiance or fire in the little Omega now. Only exhaustion. Only instinct and the need for proximity. Ivy can hardly breathe for the scent of him in the air. Feels his own skin flushing further, his own chest becoming taut with tension. Vessel presses a kiss to II's brow and the Omega purrs.
Safe. Happy. Content.
Ivy's Alpha should be satisfied with that knowledge. Isn't.
"Up you go, doll." III follows orders without question, not meek, but deferent. To II. And more prominently, to Vessel. Ivy watches, transfixed, on the outskirts, as III gathers II from Vessel's hold and lifts him. II's head lulls gently into the crook of his mate's neck. His pretty eyes flutter once more before drifting shut. Ivy's heartbeat quickens as another purr reverberates in the air. Taints it sweeter, beyond saccharine, beyond sugar itself. Vessel’s eyes flick to Ivy for just a second as III gathers II up. A knowing look. Amused. Not mocking, merely assessing.
"Text me when you get there, or if either of you need me." Vessel effortlessly commands his mates, both of them. III shifts his angle, offering his lips to Vessel's seeking own, and Ivy's never seen something like it before. He’s seen Alphas fool around in the absence of Omegas, or Betas for that matter. But never seen a bonded pair of them before. There's no gnashing teeth here. No challenge. III offers willingly and Vessel claims without fanfare.
Ivy smells the ocean in the air, smells the flickering fire of III's hearth. Thinks that they smell happy there, with their lips locked and their little mate resting safely in III's arms.
Ivy averts his gaze as they part. Not to give them privacy. No. But rather to avoid staring too long at it. The burning light of the warm sun. It hurts his eyes all the same. III’s footfall leads towards the entryway, the soft closing of the door behind them sealing the scent of II and his incoming pre-heat into a world that Ivy can’t follow.
And just like that, it’s quiet.
Painfully quiet.
The air feels empty without II’s sweetness to cushion it; and now, Ivy is left standing across the room from Vessel, who hasn't moved from his place.
Vessel’s piercing eyes are on him, now. Unwavering. Analyzing.
The weight of his gaze isn’t harsh, but heavy in the way that gravity is. Unavoidable. Absolute. Something primal in Ivy stiffens, resisting the pull. But the pull is there all the same. Ivy’s never been alone with a Dominant Alpha. His instincts flare; don't know what to make of it. Vessel's unyielding dominance; unspoken but apparent. Instinctual.
"What?” Ivy mutters out at last, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. His voice comes out rougher than he means it to. And that, too, is instinctual.
Vessel hums softly; drones. It’s not quite a laugh, but it isn’t a huff either. Vessel leans back then, his hands in his pockets, exuding ease.
“You held the door for him,” Vessel responds with an upturn of his chin, considering.
"So?" Ivy asks with a furrowed brow.
“Nothing. Just noticing.” Vessel responds, a glint in his eyes, more caramel now than chocolate.
"You’ve been doing that a lot the past few days,” Ivy’s shoulders tense as he speaks.
“Maybe,” Vessel says with a shrug. “You do interesting things.”
Ivy doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to. There’s something off-kilter about Vessel. Unnerving. Not in the dangerous, unpredictable way that most Alphas try to posture. This is entirely different. Balanced. Confident.
“Just being friendly,” Ivy says after a beat, but it sounds too defensive even to his own ears. "Not here to rock the boat, remember?"
“Friendly, is it?” Vessel cocks his head slightly, a curious tilt, and takes a slow step closer. Ivy feels his hair rise on end. Feels the challenge. Yet, his instincts face an issue. He's never been faced with a bigger wolf before. “You bought him a gift. Got your scent all over it, too. Right now, you look like you want to devour him.”
Vessel's eyes narrow just slightly. Ivy's own meet his gaze, unwavering in response.
Ivy grits his teeth, feels his control on the situation slip. There's no pretext here. No hiding. Vessel's got his number. Ivy chokes back another growl. The Dominant Alpha doesn't so much as bristle. Unaffected. Unbothered. No.
Vessel merely waits. Unnervingly patient.
"Buying that for him was just a passing whim.” Ivy tells him, wonders why it feels like a concession telling Vessel this when it didn't feel like one when he said it to Jack.
“Sure. Let’s pretend that’s all it was.” Vessel smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Still not wolfish. Still not predatory, nor threatening. Ivy bristles from the other Alpha's lingering gaze. "All this is."
The silence stretches again. Uncomfortable.
Ivy eventually glances away, his jaw tight. Taut with tension. His Alpha is pacing inside of him. Unsettled by the proximity to something bigger, and unsure how to respond. Whether to provoke or placate. And his reasoning, his contract, his work, Ivy needs this. Needs to keep it separate as he so often tells himself. There's no room for tension here. Not when he's already agreed, in part, to some level of deference. There's nothing professional about their exchange now, however.
Here, there is no need for contracts.
Vessel doesn’t dominate the room by ink strokes. Here, the room merely yields to him. And that is, frankly, worse. It’s shark infested waters. Dangerous territory.
“What are you getting at here, Vessel?” Ivy asks eventually. "I've been nothing but pleasant with you all."
“I already told you,” Vessel says simply with a grin. This time, it is wolfish. But his gaze, it softens. “You do interesting things.”
Ivy swallows that down like glass.
"Have I done something to piss you all off?" He asks simply, needs to know. Doesn't count it as a deferral. Rather, a need for clarification. An act of courtesy.
“Not at all,” Vessel muses with a shake of his head. “You've been doing well so far.”
Ivy looks at him again. Meets his eyes. Vessel’s gaze is steady. Entirely calm.
But there’s something in it still, something assessing.
Ivy’s brow twitches, his Alpha flaring with warring emotions. Something twists in his gut. Recognition, maybe.
“You’re testing me,” Ivy says finally, assumes. Feels vindicated when Vessel's small grin morphs into a wicked, widened thing.
“I am.”
Ivy's grimaces, his Alpha grumbling within him. Amber dances around him, and meets the typhoon head on.
“Why?” He inquires flatly, unsure of what to make of the Dominant Alpha's admission.
Vessel steps forward again. He’s closer now. Not threatening, but no longer distant either. Looming without ill intent. Close enough that Ivy can see the sharpness in his dark eyes beneath all that projected warmth.
“Because I need to know who you are. Where you're going to fit in.” Vessel pauses, his gaze considerate. “If you even know that for yourself.”
“And if I don’t?” Ivy bites out, an unintentional challenge.
Vessel meets him head on, sends a shiver down Ivy's spine. Involuntary. Violent.
“Then I suppose that you’ll find out soon enough.”
Vessel’s smile is soft now in spite of his domineering words. Almost fond. It’s worse than intimidation, Ivy thinks. It’s curiosity. Interest.
“Guardian Alphas are rare, you know? II said he could smell that instinct on you the first time that we met.” Vessel says it like it's nothing, like II's ability to dissect people was nothing. Ivy swallows at that, his heartbeat quickening. "So, naturally, we did a little digging. Protective. Loyal. Stubborn as all hell. Great with danger. Terrible with feelings. You’re all instinct and impulse, but you cover it with work. Act like it doesn't exist. Guardian Alphas always think that they're above instinct because they've weaponized it."
Ivy stiffens but doesn’t interrupt him. Knows it to be the truth. Feels skinned alive and laid bare as Vessel's eyes rake over him.
Still, Vessel continues, quiet and measured.
“We're going to be breathing down each other's necks in a few weeks. Crammed in a bus and stuck on the road. No room to hide."
"I'm not trying to hide anything," Ivy grits out, knows that Vessel sees right through him all the same.
“I think you are.” Vessel’s voice is low, certain. Stern. "Look how worked up you are, even now."
Ivy hisses at that. Hates again that he's right.
“Look, I know that there’s no place for me here. Not long term.” Ivy laughs, dry. Nervous. Hates that he's nervous. Wonders if this is it, where he says goodbye. Wonders how long II's scent will linger in his nostrils before it's gone completely. Wonders how long it will be before someone else comes along and lights a fire in his eyes. Wonders if someone else ever will.
“As of now, no. There isn't one.” Vessel says, voice soft. Words straight to the point. Ivy's stomach ties in knots. “Doesn't mean that one won't become available if you play your cards right. If not, well...you wouldn't be the first to get the axe.”
They stand like that for another moment. Vessel smirking devilishly at him. Ivy blinking away shock and dangerously burning hope.
And then Vessel nods his head towards the studio's door. Signaling for him to exit.
Commanding him.
Ivy's Alpha goes haywire at the distinct lack of respect, of the direct challenge. Yet, there's that other part of himself there, too. Greater than the baseline. Rare, an adaptation.
II has two strong mates. II feels safe with them. Vessel is their pack leader, unyielding. Stone. II is safe here. But Ivy could watch over him here, too.
Vessel is giving him a chance. A silent challenge. Not out of instinctual need, no. Not in any way that Ivy's familiar with.
It's an invitation.
A guideline. A way of telling him to fall in line. To accept and understand that Vessel alone stands atop the summit here. That there is to be no quarrel or qualms about it. The choice is clear. Fall in line or keep up the pretext.
Tell yourself it's simply another gig to the pay bills. Or do as you are bid, and maybe you'll be worthy of more. Leave when this tour is over, with all of your regrets. Or do what you need to do in order to see if you can be allowed to stay.
When II is involved, the decision is simple.
Ivy grits his teeth. Growls something fierce; worked up and confused. Then turns on his heel and walks out of the studio door.
He doesn't return for the guitar that he leaves behind. Knows it'll be there next week, waiting for him.
Chapter 3: Backstage
Notes:
So, I tend to write things ahead of time and I fully intend on holding off on posting...but then, I'm like...why?
I have no patience, and hate seeing things sit around in word docs. So, here. Have a second update for this week.
Next update will be next week, mid week, probably. Maybe sooner. I'm trying to learn to wait to post stuff. I just suck at it. :)
Not beta read! Please, ignore any errors until I can edit this further.
Thank you all so much for the support on this fic!
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"II's a bit embarrassed."
Ivy's eyes go comically wide as III collapses on the front porch beside him. Ahead of him, Vessel and II pack their belongings into their vehicle, alongside Ivy's own. They leave for their tour bus in less than an hour. Ivy has only just arrived via cab. He'd barely spoken a word except to hand his belongings off to Vessel before he was pointed towards the house's porch. II hasn't so much as said a single word to him. Or anyone else for that matter.
II's sporting bruises on his neck. Not the kind that would cause any concern. The kind that are earned from rough affection. Teeth marks and hungry lips. Pleasurable ones. Visible even over the high collar of the jacket that the little Omega sports to stave off the brisk air.
"Why?" Ivy returns at last, glancing at the man beside him. III's hair is wild, tousled by the wind and gleaming golden in the light. His scent is muted but noticeable. A steady flame; roaring like a home's central hearth. Behind them is the trio's home. A surprisingly quaint thing with a wraparound porch. Nothing fancy, but nothing to balk at either. Normal and comfortable. Yet, far more than anything that Ivy's ever owned.
"II's a tough one, as you know. So, he doesn't like people seeing him that way," III comments, something fond in his voice. "All sweet and stuff before his heat."
"There’s nothing to be embarrassed about," Ivy quickly responds, chewing on his bottom lip. Willing away a frown through force and teeth.
"He's at peace with his body and instincts, really. But don't give him a hard time about it, yeah?" III suggests, but it is not a suggestion.
There's something sharp in the bassist's kind eyes at last. A warning. The commanding presence of the Alpha that he is in spite of his gentle nature. Ivy's own responds to the abrupt chest puffing of the other. But beyond that, there is an understanding. Unkind Alphas might think less of an Omega for it, for being vulnerable. For being loving. For needing affection. But Ivy and III are not those kinds of Alphas. And there is no need for defensiveness here.
"I would never," Ivy assures him with a slight smile. Pleased when III returns it and the look in his eyes softens once more.
"Stop talking about me like I can't hear you," II calls from beside the car. Unamused. Glowering with his hands on his hips. Something that pulls a wider smile on Ivy's slightly chapped lips. Cute, he thinks. Knows it's a tad patronizing but thinks it anyway. Everything that II did was cute to him, really.
"Just looking out for you, love." III chuckles with a wave of his hand. II rolls his pretty eyes and slings the bassist's luggage into the car's trunk a little harder than necessary in response.
Ivy snickers then. A happy thing. Something that he hasn't heard himself make in a while. Vessel chuckles deeply, too. Ruffling his little mate's fluffy hair before affectionately kissing the drummer's reddening cheek. Ivy's heart twists at that, but it isn't as painful as it once was. II's scent spikes, carries over the open air. Reassures him that he's happy in spite of the ire falsely reflected in his oceanic eyes.
"I've never been on a proper tour bus before," Ivy confesses, changing the subject. III hums thoughtfully at his words, propping his head up on his palm as he regains the bassist's attention. "Just crammed in a van on the road. Or crashing on stranger’s couches."
"Then this will be an upgrade for you," III surmises with a raised brow. "Plan on crashing anywhere else this tour?"
"What do you mean?" He responds with a slight tilt of his head. Shifts his focus from the sweat of exertion on II's brow and Vessel's wolfish smile to III's assessing eyes. There's something analytical about them now. Something pondering.
"A single Alpha on the road, not hard to put the pieces together, mate." III says it like it's nothing, but Ivy can sense that there's more to it. Can't say what it is. But he knows that it's important that he answers correctly here. Another test, it seems.
He wonders why he takes them so willingly now after his awkward chat with Vessel.
"Not happening," Ivy answers truthfully. Shrugs, but keeps his expression neutral. III seems pleased with this and nods slightly along to his decree. "Not interested in a passing fling. Not keen on triggering a rut either."
"Smart man," III grins. His vibrant eyes crinkling in the corners when he does. Ivy watches the lines form then fade away before the sound of the trunk slamming shut jars both of them and draws them out of their quiet conversation.
"Good to go," Vessel tells them before dangling the car keys aloft. "Want to drive, III?"
"Only if II rides up front with me," III says as he climbs to his feet.
II rolls his pretty eyes again but makes for the passenger’s side door.
"Works for me," Vessel smirks, and tosses III the keys.
Ivy's heartbeat quickens as he realizes what that means for him. Plastered in the back seat with Vessel for an hour-long drive.
He swallows his instincts as he rises. Makes no show of his thoughts as he climbs into the backseat. He stays deathly still even when Vessel joins him there. He keeps his eyes dead ahead, focusing on the road. Mumbles an excuse about feeling motion sick from nerves to stave off any questioning of his refusal to meet Vessel's gaze.
He feels Vessel's eyes on him throughout the entire duration of the trip. Reading through his lies. Assessing the nervous bounce in Ivy's knee.
Inside the car there is a hearth, a flower field, and the smell of sun warmed leather.
But all that Ivy can smell is the sea.
-
The road hums beneath the moving tour bus.
A steady, low thrum. A traveling lullaby that does nothing to soothe Ivy. It runs through his spine. His knees. The backs of his eyes. Not loud. Not soft. Just always there. White noise. Static.
He’s curled on the front couch with his chin tucked against his arms. Exhausted from the excitement of the day, and the whirlwind of emotions that brew inside of him. Around him, the lights are dim. Hardly illuminating the darkness at all. The passing of streetlights is hypnotizing like this.
They should arrive soon. Get parked up and be waiting for the performance tomorrow night. He should be nervous about it, but he isn't. It doesn't matter if the crowd doesn't care for him. It only matters that they do.
It's been a while since he wasn't the focus of the music. Wasn't center stage. Still, a part of him doubts that the band's fans will even notice him. Ivy's done the digging, seen that there were other IVs before him. All nameless and faceless. He's just another body before the crowd. Another person to strum the strings and prevent Vessel from straining his vocal chords. Ivy bets that they're insured for millions. Vessel's got a really nice voice, he'll give him that. Soft like velvet when the singer wants. Angry and punctuated when he doesn't.
They harmonize well, but Ivy never sings with him. Only screams.
It should feel cathartic. He reasons that maybe it does.
The bus is mostly quiet now. The sound of the road beneath him and the hum of the less than satisfactory heated air wafting through the vents all that can be heard.
Everyone else is already fast asleep. Or at least settled down. The door to the bus’s sole bedroom is shut. The bunks used for storage save for Ivy's own. It's not the worst accommodation he's ever had. He’s slept outside a few times. In his band's own van more times than he can count.
Ivy’s tired.
Beyond tired. But his mind and body still won’t settle. Not in this space. Not with the scent of everyone clinging to every surface. Warm cedar and open flame. Salt and storm. Something sweet and warm. Vessel and III weren't lying when they said that it would be different. A lot to process. Intense.
He blinks slowly at the ceiling. Breathes out, then in again.
Then, there's soft footsteps. Bare, slow.
He doesn’t look. He doesn’t have to. He knows that gait by now. The sound of that particular footfall.
“You’re still up?”
II’s voice is a hushed whisper. Soft and groggy with sleep. Ivy glances sideways to find him standing in the aisle, cradling something in his arms and wrapped up in a sweatshirt far too big for him. He knows it's Vessels. Can smell it on him from where he sits. II's shaggy blond hair is a mess. His pale eyes shadowed. His eyelids look heavy.
“So are you,” Ivy replies, voice a rasp. Exhausted.
“I just woke up, but I was going to get some water.” II explains with a slight shrug. “Noticed that you weren’t in your bunk.”
“Couldn't sleep, but I tried to be quiet. Didn’t want to wake anyone.” Ivy answers with a slight inclination of his head. His heart doing somersaults in his chest. Beating wildly against his ribs.
“You didn’t,” II shifts his weight. Hugs something to his chest. “Do you have insomnia or something?”
"Maybe," Ivy shrugs but it's just one shoulder. He cracks a small smile. “Sometimes my mind won’t shut up.”
“Too loud in there?” II inquires with a perfectly raised brow before he lets out a quiet yawn. Painfully adorable. Ivy's breath catches for a moment before he pulls himself together again. Mostly.
“It's a lot to take in,” Ivy comments before he chews on his bottom lip. Choosing his next words carefully. Cautious. “This is all new to me."
"It takes some getting used to," II’s eyes and tone soften. "You will get used to it, though."
A pause. Then he steps forward and unfolds what he’s holding, a scrunched-up blanket. Ivy watches, transfixed, as II drapes it over his shoulders carefully. Delicately. Almost as if II's afraid that he’ll spook him.
The scent hits Ivy immediately. Rushes over him. Clogs his sinuses and settles pleasantly in his gut. Beneath his skin. Everywhere.
Lavender and honey. Vanilla and spices. Warmth and something deeper. It's thick in the fabric, embedded in every fiber. Ivy will never forget it. Never wants to forget it.
He stills.
“You don't have to,” he murmurs, low. Their roles have now reversed. Ivy scared that he'll startle the other. Break the spell of tranquility. Of calm.
II huffs a sleepy sound.
“I’ve got another one," the little Omega explains away.
“Really sweet of you,” Ivy says before he can stop himself. Then winces. Cringes at his own fuck up. Calls himself an idiot for the umpteenth time. Then, he makes it worse. “I mean, it smells like you. Smells...nice?”
Smooth.
II doesn’t tease. But he doesn’t smile, either. Just watches him for a beat, unreadable. The silence stretches a bit too long. Almost uncomfortable before II spares him.
“You okay with that?” II asks, quiet. Assessing. Pale eyes catching the passing streetlight's warm illumination. Ivy's never seen someone so painfully perfect.
"Yeah," Ivy says cautiously, hesitates a bit. Licks his dry lips and feels himself fall deeper into the scent of rolling flower fields. He's never been bathed in an Omega's scent like this. Not when there was no exchanging of pleasure involved, and never as an act of comfort.
No one’s ever done this. Not like this. Not without wanting something back from him.
Another beat, then II nods.
"Good," the drummer says simply. Starts to turn, then pauses again. Looks over his shoulder, peeking up from behind Vessel's hood.
“You should sleep,” II advises, his eyes beyond pretty in the glow of passing headlights.
“I’m trying," Ivy says honestly. Wants rest more than anything. Knows it will help clear his head. Still, it evades him.
“Try harder then,” II murmurs, almost fond, as he grabs a bottle of water and disappears behind the bedroom's door again before Ivy can come up with a reply.
Silence returns, but it seems softer somehow. Less heavy. Ivy shifts deeper into the couch, clutching the blanket tighter against himself. Breathes it in again, slower this time.
It doesn’t burn. Doesn’t ache. Doesn't make his skin hot or desire flare.
It merely… soothes.
Warmth curls lowly in his chest. Not sharp. Not needy. Just steady.
He lets it sit there.
And slowly, finally, he falls asleep with his nose buried against the calming smell of II.
-
When Ivy showers late in the afternoon before their first gig, he finds the blanket from last night gone.
Another one, folded thoughtfully, rests in its place.
Ivy wants to pick it up, to smell it, but III's eyes follow him as he approaches the couch.
He sits, ignores it. Hair dripping water on the stitching of the sofa. He wants to breathe in deep. Doesn't.
Wonders instead why the blanket is gone.
"II has it," III says with a smile. Reads his mind. Pulls Ivy from his reverie like it's nothing.
"Oh," Ivy mutters out. Feels embarrassed for the flush that coats his skin. Blames it on the heat from the shower. Hopes that III doesn't notice it.
"If your shirts go missing, let us know." Vessel chimes in, startling him. Ivy's head whips up, didn't register the singer entering the common area. Vessel's torso is bare. Muscles on display. Gray sweatpants hanging lowly on his hips. II's little claim mark displayed proudly on the center of his scent gland. Vessel bares another scar. Not a claim, can't be one from another Alpha's teeth. It's just a scar. Surrounding II's. III's teeth marks evident. Forever embedded in the Dominant Alpha's flesh.
Ivy barely remembers what the singer says. Flushes further when he recalls it.
"II is on a nesting spree," III chuckles, something fond twinkling in his eyes. Ivy's lips fall slightly open. Surprised. His heartbeat quickens. Thinks of the implications. Of his scent being brought into II's domain by the little Omega's own accord. "He usually does this when we leave home. Especially post-heat. Helps him find some order in the chaos, or something like that."
"You don't mind though, do you?" Vessel inquires as he slinks forward. All confidence. Gorgeous body on display. Ivy gives him another once over. Appreciative. His Alpha doesn't know what to make of that thought.
Frankly, he doesn't either.
"Not at all," Ivy answers honestly, tests the waters himself. Sees if the temperature is fine or if the pot is scalding. "You don't mind?"
A pause. A lapse in conversation where Vessel drapes his arms around III and leans over the bassist. Ivy watches them, curious. III relaxes, melts into the touch. No bristling. No need to placate. Only unabashed love. Ivy thinks it's fascinating. Wonders if it's Vessel ability to claim anyone shining through. Wonders if he's able to soothe other Alphas like he would an Omega. He wouldn't put it past him.
Vessel's face remains neutral at his query. III's a look of sheer bliss. Something soft and appreciative. Something Ivy absentmindedly thinks looks good on him.
Doesn't know when he started thinking that way.
Blames it on the proximity. The inability to escape. To hide. Vessel did warn him about that, after all.
"We don't mind," III answers. Answers for both of them. And Vessel...lets his mate do it. Doesn't posture. Doesn't disagree or argue. Merely hums a droning sound in his mate's ear and holds him tighter. "We'd never deny II something that makes him comfortable and happy."
Ivy's scent...makes II comfortable? Happy?
He blushes then, a furious thing. Averts his gaze for a moment, chewing on his thoughts. Gnawing at his bottom lip. His heartbeat a rapid thing, caged in his chest.
"Where is II, anyway?" Vessel mumbles, breaking the tension. Showing his inherent trust of his partners without saying it. Showing that he doesn't cage them. Or leash them. Or keep tabs on their every moment of existence. Ivy finds that intriguing, too. Doesn't know many Alphas that confident. So sure of themselves, and their worth and status in their relationship that they allow their mates to wander without their knowledge and consent.
Vessel exudes confidence. III exudes ease.
Ivy finds himself less jealous of them now. More appreciative instead.
"Yelling at the crew, I think. Wasn't happy with how our gear was strapped into the trailer," III snorts. Something that Vessel laughs at heartily. Something Ivy himself smiles at as he slowly raises his gaze. III's looking at him now. Something kind in his eyes. Something comforting. Ivy chews on his bottom lip once more. His cheeks staining darker. Crimson. "He's tyrannical on the road, IV. A proper little menace. You'll see."
"Wait until he sees your penchant for fast food when we tour," Vessel snickers, slowly releasing his partner. Exchanging a smile with Ivy. "I workout twice as hard on the road thanks to this one."
"Something tells me that III can eat whatever he wants without worrying about his weight," Ivy assumes, amused. III chuckles in response, nodding his head along. Pale hair swaying wildly around him. "For what it's worth, Vessel...you're absolutely solid, mate."
"I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work," Vessel smirks proudly. III feigns a gasp, swatting at his mate's rear while Vessel barks out a laugh. Ivy snorts in spite of himself. Feels oddly comfortable with them. Strangely at ease. "When II gets back, we should head inside.”
"You excited?" III asks, aims the question at him. Looks genuinely curious. A small smile on his lips as he asks. His gaze entirely considerate.
Ivy's Alpha paces, but it is not at all unpleasant.
"Yeah," he answers honestly, rolling his shoulders with ease. Smelling their mingling scents in the air. Wondering if that's what II's newly formed nest smells like. That knowledge makes his lips spread wider, revealing more teeth. "I am."
-
A hat.
It was something silly, tossed without a care in the world. Aimed for the stage. Offered as a gift while they took their final bow. Ivy's first alongside them.
Instinct acts on its own volition then. Sees the object rise from a sea of endless hands. It flies through the air with ease. Too close to him. Far too close to II.
Ivy snarls. Chuffs as he seizes it. Chest puffing up. Eyes narrowed in disdain. He's standing in front of II. Shielding him. Someone in the crowd snaps a photo. Others scream. To them it must have looked like an eager gesture. Something appreciative. Ivy knows it isn't. Knows that his new bandmates know that it isn't, either. Still, with danger thwarted -and truthfully never present- he plays it up for the crowd. Perches it on his head and poses dramatically with it for the sake of hearing them scream.
As he exits the stage, he can't bring himself to look at the others.
Knows he'd see Vessel's little smirk. III's knowing eyes. Maybe even II's contemplative ones.
He tosses the hat towards a tech. Storms off. Shaking with adrenaline.
Unable to quell the storm that brews within him.
-
The hallway is dim, lit only by a flickering overhead bulb that buzzes faintly above Ivy’s head. The show ended half an hour ago, but the energy and adrenaline still hasn’t bled off yet. It’s still coiled tight in his shoulders. Wild electricity underneath his skin. Every sound grates his nerves. Every movement in his periphery feels like a pressing challenge. He’s pacing, again. Making sharp turns on the concrete like he’s marking a territory that isn’t his.
But he doesn’t hear Vessel approach him.
Doesn’t register his presence until a hand closes around his wrist.
Not forceful. Not violent. Not challenging. But firm. Final.
Ivy jerks back instinctively. A snarl slips loose from his throat before he can stop it, low and sharp in warning.
Vessel doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t release him either. His grip stays steady. Solid enough to remind Ivy that he’s there, but soft enough that Ivy knows that it’s not about force.
“Easy there,” Vessel says. His voice is velvet over gravel. Soft but rough from use. Ivy eyes the cleanliness of his skin. All traces of black pained removed. Ivy's own is still stained dark. His mask crumbled up and stuck in his back pocket. He could hardly breathe with the damn thing on. “You’re running awfully hot.”
“No shit,” Ivy snaps, but his voice cracks halfway through. He still hasn’t pulled away.
His Alpha doesn't know what to do. He doesn't either.
“You always like this after a set?” Vessel asks, tone casual. Like they’re standing outside having a smoke and not coming down from the high of performing before a massive crowd. Ivy's never been on stage before so many people. Unlike the night before, he wonders if they liked him. If they liked when he posed for them. If they even noticed that he was someone different. Someone new.
“Yeah,” Ivy grits, jaw clenched tight. “But usually not like this. Not this wound up. It's...the protective drive. Can't turn it off.”
“I thought so.” Vessel’s thumb moves in a lazy half-circle at Ivy’s wrist. Grounding, Ivy recognizes. The same thing that III so often did for II. The problem is, Ivy's not an Omega. The bigger problem is it works on him anyway. Under Vessel's hands. Under the hands of someone who could claim him as if he were one. “You’re wired so tight that I can hear your teeth grinding.”
“I’m fine," Ivy grumbles lowly, almost a growl.
“You’re not," Vessel assess correctly. Ivy doesn't bother to hide the curse that tumbles past his lips. Amber swirls around him, warm and melting in with leather. But Vessel douses the smoldering heat. His touch cool like cold rain. His scent a steadily rising tide, lapping away at the shoreline. Eating away at the edge.
And for some reason, Vessel's refusal to drop his hold doesn’t make Ivy bristle more. The Dominant Alpha's dismissal of his claim at being fine doesn't make him angry, either. It makes him feel…seen. Accepted. Embarrassed, maybe. But not vulnerable in the way that usually makes him lash out.
He's always been defensive. A tad temperamental. Never really known what to do with those pieces of himself.
He lets out a breath. Doesn’t meet Vessel’s eyes. Can't bring himself to see whether or not they're dark and assessing, or soft and sweet like chewy caramel.
“You did well," Vessel hums softly, and Ivy's head does snap up then.
He sees boiled sugar.
"Thanks," Ivy says earnestly, and feels his ears burn a little at the praise. His eyes drift to his wrist, where Vessel's large hand is wrapped around it. Heat rises in his cheeks, not something he quite expected. He curses himself again, can't believe he's so touch starved.
He blames his own choices for it. Distancing himself from meaningless relationships and fleeting comfort. Making do with his own touch and pulling away from others. Vessel's fingers flex against him, brushing the scent gland on his wrist. Ivy breathes in deep then, chewing on his lip. His Alpha's oddly quiet. Settled. As if it's realized something. As if it's realized that the bigger wolf isn't threatening him. Rather, it’s comforting him.
"You...always calm people down like this?" Ivy laughs awkwardly. Sounds shy. Unlike himself. No confidence here. All nerves. All shaky talk.
“No,” Vessel replies with a small chuckle of his own. “Just the people that I’m interested in.”
The words land like a slap to the chest. Ivy blinks. Once. Twice.
“…What?” He stutters out. Disbelief making a home in his voice. His Alpha preens.
He's never felt that sensation before.
Vessel doesn’t smirk. He’s not trying to be cruel, or clever. His voice stays even, thoughtful. Considerate. Painfully kind.
"Surprising to you?" The Dominant Alpha questions, cocks an eyebrow. Head tilted towards the side. "You did good, stepping in front of II like that. Nothing selfish about you, is there?"
Ivy's throat constricts, words and air leaving him. Vessel's hand stretches further against his skin. Lithe fingers dancing over his rapid pulse. Over his scent gland. Ivy smells himself in the air, smells the sudden surge of his essence. Vessel makes a deep sound as he breathes it in. Something pleased.
"Last guy who toured with us was a cunt," Vessel says simply, words that Ivy blinks at. "Short lived as it was, thank fuck for that. Never wanted to rip someone to shreds so badly. Don't appreciate someone feeling entitled to what's mine."
Ivy's Alpha bristles at that, unnerved. Vessel knows his desire, reads him like a book. His words should feel like a threat.
They are one.
But it doesn't feel that way. No. Not to him.
He doesn’t know why.
"II and III make their own choices on things, but I'm very protective of them." Vessel continues, his hand wringing around Ivy's wrist. Drawing amber and sun-kissed leather out. Ivy breathes in deep, or rather, tries to. It's a stuttered, labored thing. Vessel’s tone drops an octave lower. "You've imprinted on my little mate, Ivy."
Ivy sets his jaw.
He wants to find the words to refute it. To say it's a mere fixation. But he's already accepted those words as lies. Vessel's domineering presence would flare if he lied. Lead to a challenge. Lead to the feeling of being sheltered by the bigger wolf morphing into the feeling of becoming the prey of one. His Alpha loves a good challenge, but it doesn't favor this one.
"You're courting him, and II..." Vessel chuckles, his wicked fangs glinting in the flickering light. Ivy meets and holds his gaze. Affording himself some semblance of pride. Crumbling as it is. "II likes that. Really likes you. Wouldn't accept your gestures and return them if he didn't. Wouldn’t talk about you as much as he does. Do you even know that you’ve had our attention since the day that we met?”
Ivy's brain short circuits, wires crossing that shouldn't. Vessel doesn't give him room to process that. No. The Dominant Alpha's grip only tightens. Vessel shifts forward, crowding Ivy’s space, but not blocking him in fully. Offering him one final out. Vessel steps forward again, his eyes darting to the side as if to say you can go.
Ivy doesn't take the offer.
He steps back himself. Let's Vessel step forward. Holds the Dominant Alpha's gaze until his back meets the brick wall. Vessel looms over him then. A playful twinge in boiling sugar eyes. But a dangerously wicked grin on his lips. Ivy's Alpha screams, a growl escaping him.
Vessel doesn't growl back.
Instead, he pins him. Holds him in place. Ivy tenses, but there’s no fear. Only adrenaline. He tries to push him back. Pushes as hard as he can. Testing him. Fails to move him but a half step back. Vessel's strength is overwhelming.
Vessel merely watches him. Curious. His eyes searching for something in Ivy's widening own. Ivy knows that he's searching for discomfort. Or the need for him to escape. Ivy knows that Vessel would allow it, too. There's nothing menacing about Vessel’s weight now. It’s merely a show of power.
A display of what he can offer.
Of what Vessel brings to the table.
Ivy could walk away. Vessel would probably apologize to him too with how kind his eyes are now.
But Ivy doesn't want him to move. He doesn't want to move either.
"Relax," Vessel grumbles, husky. Deep. Ivy doesn't know what comes over him. Doesn't know why the fight leaves him as quickly as it does.
He's never heard himself whine before.
He has now.
"I know you wouldn’t hurt my little one." Vessel drones, eyes simmering with warmth, nothing predatory about them. Ivy's skin is ablaze. Confused. His mind reeling. Overcome with something primal. Instinct. Unused to being dominated so easily. Unused to being dominated at all. Yet, Vessel's gaze is soft. Kind. Considerate. Ivy shakes his head, unable to form words. "I'm not going to hurt you, IV."
Ivy swallows thickly, nods. Remembers how soft Vessel was with II. How kind he was with III.
Trusts him now.
"Do you understand what courting my Omega means?" Vessel asks him calmly before loosening his grip entirely.
Ivy can't move.
Pinned in place by nothing but the weight of Vessel's stare. The miniscule proximity between them. All he can smell is the ocean, the never-ending sea. The storm, once on the horizon, that now bares down on him.
Ivy's always liked the rain. But he never knew that he could like it like this.
"No," Ivy confesses, curses himself inwardly. His voice sounds small. Not meek. Angry, still. But it is less than Vessel's own in volume. Almost submissive.
"If you court one of my pack, you court them all. And you allow yourself to be courted by all of us." Vessel clarifies, and the lump in Ivy's throat returns. Heat spreads across his skin. Paints his cheeks vermilion. His cock twitches in spite of himself. He can't smell his own scent, drowned out in Vessel's unyielding hurricane.
"No promises that it works out in your favor, in the end. But the three of us are willing to entertain the idea. To see where you'd fit in. If you do.” Vessel grumbles, titling his head down. Ivy gazes upward at him and lets out a shaky breath. “You have to earn permanence, remember? I’m only giving you another way of doing that, if you want it. If you’re deserving of it.”
Vessel steps in a hair closer, his half-lidded eyes shimmering the color of caramel. Ivy's Alpha shrinks from his gaze. Ivy himself doesn't.
"I’m not trying to coerce you into anything you don’t want here. But you have to understand that this is an established pack. We might like you, but you have to accept a place in the hierarchy. You don’t get to disrupt it." Vessel continues, his voice as serious as the grave. “Tell me no and I will stop right now. But if you say no, then I need you to be fair to us. Especially to II. You keep your feelings to yourself. You don’t make this harder for him. You curb your own instincts and desires.”
"I don't want that," Ivy chokes out, and even if it's a submissive admittance, it's an easy one. He could still walk. Could still say no. The offer still hangs there between them. But the thought of losing this isn’t something that he’s willing to entertain.
Vessel's giving him permission to pursue II. II wants to be pursued by him. Ivy's heartbeat quickens more, reminds him of the other factors. Of the minute proximity between him and Vessel. He thinks to himself that the feeling isn't bad. Only new. Only something entirely foreign.
"I want to…see where this goes,” Ivy admits, breathless.
"So do we," Vessel hums softly, words that punch the air from Ivy's lungs. Vessel smiles. Leans in. His voice a hot whisper against the shell of Ivy's ear. Ghosting over his neck. Rolling over his unmarked scent gland. Ivy shudders, cock kicking from the sudden heat, as Vessel smirks against him. “You can always change your mind, Ivy. We won't ever take more from you than what you offer."
Ivy gasps as Vessel backs off of him. But Vessel leaves his scent behind. It sticks to Ivy's skin. Marking him. A sense of belonging. A sense of tentative, impermanent claim. A sense of dominance.
"II wants pizza tonight," Vessel says as he turns on his heel and nods towards the lot where their bus awaits them. "Left a hundred quid on the bar, tucked underneath my laptop. Order something for him and say it's from you. Get II cheese only. He's always picky when he's coming off his heat. III will eat whatever, but he prefers pepperoni. I’ll eat what’s left.”
Ivy balks at Vessel's back. Watching the singer leave with widened eyes before a smile pulls on his lips.
"Thank you," Ivy calls back to him after a moment spent in silence.
His Alpha rolls around inside of him, coming to grips with the scent that covers his own. Smothers his dominance. Tempers his instincts into something else. Not something bad. Merely something new. Ivy thinks that he'll explore this and grins when he realizes that they want him to, too.
-
The bus is empty when he arrives. Vessel probably having wandered off to round up his mates.
Ivy takes the opportunity to do as guided. Finds the money, searches for the best-looking pizza he can find, and calls in an order with a set of peculiar delivery instructions. A bus in a guarded parking lot. Not strange at all. He calls a member of the crew. One of the few faces he's met. Sam. A nice Beta dude with a kind smile. Tells him to make sure that the poor delivery driver is allowed in before he hangs up and makes for his bunk.
He seizes his black duffel bag from the unmade bed and hurries to the bathroom. Strips off his sweat dampened clothes and jumps in the shower with a pleasured groan. The water's warm, scalding on his skin. It's the second shower of the day, but he's not worried about drying himself out. That's what lotion is for, he muses as he reaches for the soap. Fragrance free. Doesn't mess with scents.
The black paint runs down the drain, but Vessel’s oceanic scent clings to his skin.
Ivy feels himself flushing again. Not from the water's warmth. He's quick to take care of the problem; the sudden, gnawing urge.
He doesn't feel half as guilty this time as he takes himself in hand and languidly strokes the length of his cock. His Alpha thrums with contentment, not caring where his thoughts drift. Even if they go from II's soft expression as he draped the blanket over Ivy. Or the way that Vessel had pinned him so effortlessly to the wall. An unmovable, dominant object. He even thinks briefly of III, now that the door's been opened. Now that he knows the other Alpha wants him. He thinks of the fond lilt in his voice, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. All warmth and steadiness.
Ivy doesn't think it defiling of their images as he groans lowly and picks up his pace. Twisting his hand around himself with urgency before he chews on his chapped bottom lip.
They wanted him here.
Maybe even wanted him.
Ivy cums so hard that he sees stars. There’s no name on his lips, but three faces in his mind's eye as he lets his head roll back against the tile.
He washes the rest of himself tiredly. His body aching from the day. He exits when he's satisfied, not spending too long under the shower's warm spray. Not wanting to miss the food delivery. He dries himself off with haste before chucking the towel into the nearby basket.
As he pulls underwear and black joggers from his bag, he hears the door to the bus open then close. Hears three sets of footfall. One with long strides and confidence, Vessel. One with shorter strides and purpose, II. One with even longer strides and a slight pep in his step, III.
He smiles as he tugs on his clothes, then applies his usual products and scentless deodorant. It's only when he reaches back inside of his bag for a shirt that realizes the problem.
There aren't any.
"All of them, II? Really?" He asks himself with a shake of his head and a genuine smile.
It doesn't matter.
II can take every article of clothing that he owns if he wants to.
Ivy chuckles as he grips the countertop and looks his reflection directly in the eye.
He thinks that he looks happy.
Notes:
I rewrote that Vessel/Ivy conversation half a dozen times to make sure it felt safe, consensual, etc. I really hope it comes off that way. It's intended to! I'm new at writing power dynamics like this. ^^;
Pizza scene next week, because yes. Also, III Alpha type drop. II can continue to be an anomaly for the time being. :)
Chapter 4: Warm Up
Notes:
"I won't post until mid-next week!" I said.
Then, I saw stuff about their set in Germany and yeah, I immediately sat down to edit. Holy shit. (Skip if you don't wanna see me ramble or see spoilers for tour stuff, but my god those new masks. The new outfits. The set. The fucking setlist. The energy. I am so excited to see them live in a few months. Well worth the expensive ass tickets. c: )
Consider today a bonus chapter? I swear I'll slow down eventually. Probably. Maybe. Scratch that. No promises.
Not beta-read. Please pardon any errors!
I will respond to comments this evening once I finish a prior obligation. The support on this fic is insane. I cannot thank you all enough. <3
Until next time, enjoy and take care!
Chapter Text
Ivy's ears are red as he exits the bathroom.
Bare chested. Hair damp. Dripping with his own scent.
Dripping with Vessel's.
Silence sweeps over the tour bus. The stunned kind of quiet. Vessel's lips twitch upward, a proud smirk. III's eyes widen, sweeping over Ivy's form. His gaze entirely appreciative. Ivy's cheeks flush further at that. He commits the bassist's pleased look to memory for good measure. II's reaction steals his breath away.
The little Omega blushes. Licks his lips as he ducks his head down and hides behind his soft blond locks. As if it was not his own doing that led to Ivy standing there now. Half naked. Sweatpants purposefully sitting lowly on his hips. Broad chest, toned stomach, and muscular arms on full display.
Ivy's not always been the most confident in some areas, but his body was not one of them. He’s got full confidence there.
He hopes that they enjoy the view.
He smiles at them as he nabs the money from the bar and navigates to the tour bus's door. He catches the delivery guy with his hand raised, poised to knock. Escorted by a member of staff who doesn't look the least bit bothered at Ivy’s state of undress.
"Three large pizzas?" The delivery guys questions, equally unbothered, as Ivy nods and seizes the boxes. He doesn't make the poor guy give him change. Just tips him a good amount on Vessel's dime.
Ivy can make it up to the other Alpha later.
"Is that pizza?" III asks as Ivy ascends the steps once more, the door shutting firmly behind him.
Ivy beams as he balances the food, eyes sweeping over the labels before he extends the three boxes outward towards the stunned bassist.
"Top box is yours, pepperoni. It’s from the best place in the area according to reviews." Ivy hums as III reaches upward and takes the box with a grin of his own. There's kindness in III's eyes. A spark of affection that Ivy never noticed before. But with the way that III breathes in deep and smells the air, Ivy knows that the bassist isn't smelling just the pizza. He's smelling Vessel on his skin.
Vessel's permission. His nod of approval, and Ivy's own blatant consent.
Dominant Alpha or not, an Alpha doesn't get scented by another without permission. Or several broken bones.
"Cheese for you, II. I hope that's all right," Ivy offers as he takes a step to the side. Admiring the beautiful flush across II's cheeks as the drummer slowly raises his head. Pale eyes widen, intense and assessing. But II's porcelain skin is kissed by crimson. The drummer's gaze flits from the food to Ivy's bare muscles, before II carefully lifts the box from Ivy's hands. Their fingers brush needlessly. Ivy offers him a soft look, his scent flaring something soothing, and II clears his throat.
"Thanks," II mumbles out, his voice quiet. A bit embarrassed, perhaps. But Ivy's scent eats away at the raw emotions. Renders them obsolete and unnecessary. II hugs the box closer to himself before prying it open. Ivy delights in the wonder and appreciation that glimmers in his oceanic eyes. Lavender and honey swirl with unadulterated bliss. Ivy's grin widens, knows that he's partially responsible for it.
Ivy steps further to the side next. Facing the Dominant Alpha that shares, in secret, the other reason for II and III's immediate happiness.
"Meat lovers. Figured you'd want the extra protein." Ivy explains as he hands Vessel the last box, drinking in the surprise that flickers in Vessel's gaze as the Dominant Alpha takes the offered food from his hands.
"Well, aren't you thoughtful?" Vessel muses with a pleased grin, cracking open the box before he slides to the side. Away from II's side. "Sit, eat."
Ivy swallows thickly, suddenly nervous. Steels himself with a deep breath, then lowers himself between Vessel and II.
It's clear that II, for all of his blushing and meekness, does not share his problem.
"Here," II offers, shoving the box halfway in Ivy's lap the second that he's settled in. Ivy smiles as he reaches out and grabs a slice, burning his fingertips as he grips it. II glances at him, cheeks still red and eyes still wandering, as Ivy meets his gaze. II smells happy here, he notices, something that makes his own heart flutter. "I was craving pizza, actually."
"Lucky guess," Ivy lets the white lie out. Feels Vessel's eyes briefly on him before the Dominant Alpha returns his attention to his own food, picking at it.
"II gets really cranky about food sometimes," III muses, wolfing down a pepperoni. "Lucky guess is right.”
"Fuck off," II grits out, his blush darkening, as he angrily grabs a slice of pizza.
"You do get a little grumpy, love," Vessel chuckles. "But we love you for it."
"Nothing wrong with wanting something light...or lighter, at least." Ivy muses, catches II's eyes again as the drummer glances at him sideways. Pizza slice held aloft towards his pretty pink lips.
"Right," II grumbles, flush deepening once more before he takes a bite. Ivy's heartbeat goes rapid at that. A happy, content thing. He made II blush again.
It feels... good.
"This is delicious," III groans in delight, glancing upward and over II's head towards Ivy. "Appreciate you doing this."
"It was nothing," Ivy returns, eyes crinkling in the corners as he indulges himself at last. The pizza's good, lives up to the reviews the place had, for which he's grateful.
They eat in comfortable silence then, surprisingly comfortable silence.
When they're finished, Vessel collects the boxes while III trails after him, claiming to be grabbing drinks, as the bus hums to life and they set off on their journey once again. It is then that Ivy catches II staring. At him. At his chest. His arms. The shallow rise and fall of his chest. Ivy cracks a smile.
"I don't want to be presumptuous here, but...I could scent that blanket for you, if you want. It's probably better than my clean laundry," Ivy offers, his own cheeks flushing. II clears his throat, bites through his embarrassment as he does so.
"Your detergent...is strong," II muses, his gaze falling to his lap.
"It's not scent friendly, but I've never had anyone care about that sort of thing before. I'll be more mindful from now on, if you'd like." Ivy continues, gaining confidence the more that II reacts positively to his words.
This is new territory for him. Courting someone. He's flirted before, obviously. Talked up a few Omegas in bars in order to offer himself up for their and his own pleasure. But he's never done this before. The serious interest thing. Never wanted someone so desperately. So adamantly. His Alpha rolls around happily in his chest.
"We use fragrance-free stuff," II explains with a small shrug. Nonchalant. Or trying to be. "I'm...annoyingly sensitive to scents."
"Then, I'll trade you?" Ivy suggests, tilting his head downward to meet II's pretty pale eyes once more. He smiles wider when II's beautiful gaze falls on him. "A properly scented blanket, and a few of my shirts, in exchange for...a few back?"
"Fine," II grumbles, but it is not a thing of annoyance. It is one of fondness, paired with a feigned eye roll from the little Omega.
"Don't argue with me about this."
Ivy's ears perk up as he begrudgingly turns his head as II does. Vessel and III face one another in the kitchenette. III with his arms crossed across his chest with his head tilted up, and Vessel glowering upward at his mate.
At his side, II sighs.
"I don't need you to mother hen me, love." Vessel grits out, not entirely annoyed, but not quite amused either. Ivy picks up the flaring scent of the sea, and surprisingly, the flaring scent of a hearth's flame.
"We're not doing this. We've already established that while you might be good at taking care of us, you're absolutely shit at taking care of yourself, Vessel." III argues, puffing up his chest, and it's the first time Ivy's ever seen him do that before. III's Alpha flares. On the offensive. Not on the defensive like Vessel's Dominant own. "I'll make you something healthier, but you have got to eat more than a few bites of something."
"I’m fine, III. I’m trying to cut." Vessel growls, a faint glinting of sharp teeth poking through his lips. Ivy feels II shift beside him before the little Omega rises.
For a fleeting moment, Ivy thinks of intervening. Of stopping the Omega from going forward. Incredibly defensive of him. Worried for him.
But while III and Vessel are clearly quarreling, there is no perceivable threat of violence between them. Only instincts flaring. Two Alphas who love each other but have their own respective instincts to follow. Still, what happens next surprises him. Startles not only him, but his own Alpha.
"Drop it, both of you." II hisses, grabbing Vessel's shirt and III's arm, before angrily looking at them both. Slowly turning his head to either side. III stops posturing immediately. Vessel's growl dies instantly on his lips. Their gazes soften. II rolls his pretty eyes again. "Make him something to eat if you want, III. Vessel, eat the fucking food. You look perfect already. So, stop worrying about it."
"Sorry, little love." III whispers softly, stepping forward and leaning down. Kissing II's cheek. Vessel chuffs once, then bows his head in defeat. Backing down without the need for a show of dominance. Ivy's lips slightly part. Awestruck by the Dominant Alpha's deference. "I'm just looking out for you, Vess. You know I love you."
"I love you, too." Vessel sighs, raises his head before he steps forward and ruffles II's hair, appreciative. Then, Vessel kisses III's cheek and plasters himself against his Alpha partner's chest. "Thank you for taking care of me."
Ivy averts his gaze in spite of his curiosity. Processing III's defiance. The lack of apparent consequences or need for dominance on Vessel's part, as II grabs the nearby folded blanket before collapsing beside him once more. Ivy startles slightly, raising his gaze quickly as II shakes his head slightly. Scent flaring. Calming notes wafting throughout the cabin.
"III's an Empath Alpha. The emotionally supportive and stupidly intelligent kind. He reads moods like a book, and Vessel doesn't know how to cope with that at times." II explains, words that Ivy hums at. The way III acts starts to make sense to him then. That tracks, he thinks. "They’d never actually fight -me, each other, or…you. But we all butt heads sometimes. Vessel’s good at knowing when to stand down and let us in, though."
"Thanks, II." Vessel calls from the kitchen, laughing from where he stands against III's chest.
"He's also annoying," II snorts, laughter soft and genuine as Ivy offers him a smile. II slowly unfurls the blanket, blinking slowly at him, before Ivy reads what he wants to do. Lowers himself a bit on the couch so that II can drape the blanket over his shoulders. "Sorry I... took all of your shirts."
"Sorry they weren't up to snuff," Ivy says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'll make it up to you with the blanket."
"Good," II answers quickly. His flush deepens. Then, he buries his head in Ivy's shoulder. Ivy stills, blinking in disbelief, as color saturates his cheeks. He calms immediately. Soothed beyond belief. Flowers, honey, and spiced vanilla swirl around him. Seep into his bones alongside II's warmth. "Do you...mind?"
"No," Ivy says breathlessly as he leans back against the Omega. His heartbeat audible in his ears. His mouth goes dry, eyes flickering between II and Vessel and III, who nuzzle each other in the kitchen. Affectionate. Loving. Apologetic. Unbothered entirely by them, by him.
"You're warm," II purrs before falling silent.
Ivy's never known bliss before. Not like this.
-
"You two look awfully comfy."
Ivy creaks open a bleary eye. Met immediately by III's smiling face and Vessel's pleased little smirk. He blinks himself awake further, his gaze shifting to the side, and oh. II's sleeping soundly on his arm. Drooling slightly on the fabric of the blanket. His features are painfully soft. Smoothed over and devoid of tension in the arms of sleep. His scent hangs heavily in the air. Pleasant. Content.
II had purred for him.
Ivy flushes, a vibrant and violent thing, as he returns his gaze towards the other Alphas present.
"II's going to be sore if he sleeps sitting up for long," Vessel tuts as he drops to a knee and extends a hand. Brusing the hair out of his Omega's closed eyes. II leans into his touch by instinct. A cute, quiet sound slipping past his lips. Ivy can't help but smile at it. His teeth ache with want. His scent flourishes around him. Soaking II and the others in his abrupt flare of emotions. He doesn't worry about how it will be received. Not when III looks at him like that.
With such warmth and fondness in his eyes.
"Cute as this is, it's time for little love here to go to bed." III declares with an almost apologetic smile. "Got some of your shirts put back in your bag. II can yell at me for disrupting his nest, but the damn thing is monstrous enough as it is. He might not even notice."
"He'll notice," Vessel snorts as he gently wraps his arms around his sleeping mate. II bristles then, almost squeaking, as one of his eyes opens slowly. "Hi, love. Taking you to bed with me."
"Good night," II mumbles sleepily. Ivy feels like he's been punched in the chest. His gums ache as he beams at the tired man before him as Vessel effortlessly lifts II in his arms. Ivy misses his warmth immediately. Feels grateful for II's lingering scent and the blanket, before he curses and unwraps it from his bare shoulders. He shivers from the suddenly brisk air as it kisses his skin. But he holds the fabric aloft regardless. Extends it outward in offering.
It is criminally adorable, how quickly II seizes it and tucks it underneath his chin, his demeanor soft without the usual edges as he rouses from deep sleep.
"Good night, II. Night, Vessel." Ivy returns with a smile; one Vessel returns easily as II snuggles closer to his chest. Ivy watches them depart down the bus's hallway before disappearing behind the bedroom door.
"You going to your bunk or staying here?" III asks, regaining his attention, as Ivy gazes upward at him. III's face, too, is softer somehow. Devoid of worry and stress entirely, radiating comforting warmth in time with his flame kissed scent. Ivy breathes it in; realizes it was in response to his own scent flaring.
Truthfully, Ivy doesn't quite know how to interact with III yet in this new capacity.
There's no skin in the game for either of them. No territory to stake. No way to properly mate even if they desired to. No benefits to be gleaned from sharing cycles with one another.
Yet, III is open to the prospect of courting him. And Ivy wants to explore it, too. He doesn't regret the decision now. Only needs to find a way to make sense of how they progress. Of how their Alphas behave around one another. Of how they do.
Empath Alphas, Ivy knows a little more about them than Dominant ones. They're not as rare, but they're reliable. Caring. Loving. Emotionally intelligent to a fault. The kind of thing a pack thrives with and suffers without. Ivy's got to hand it to Vessel, he muses, as III cocks his head to the side, awaiting his answer. A Dominant Alpha with an Empath and a non-traditional Omega with alarming control over himself makes for a perfect trio. A solid pack.
It's only lacking in one area.
Defense.
Ivy licks his suddenly dry lips.
"Think I'll stay here," he answers as he reaches for a nearby cushion and drags it to the edge of the couch. He lies down without preamble. Stretches out his arms and back. Muscles and chest fully on display. He delights a little in how III's gaze unabashedly sweeps over his form. Ivy catches him staring. Offers him a cheeky smile. "You going to bed, too?"
"I was going to grab you a blanket first. Since you gave yours to II," III answers, not missing a beat. There's a flush on his cheeks. But there's a flush on Ivy's cheeks, too.
"That's sweet of you," Ivy muses, means it. Words that III meets with a quiet laugh.
Ivy thinks his laugh is nice.
"I'm a big softie at heart," III chuckles before he steps forward. His lengthy gait is impressive. He clears the length of the bus in a few strides before ducking into the back bedroom once more. Ivy ponders why he bypasses the bunks. Get his answer the second that III returns, holding a blanket that Ivy recognizes. Frayed on the fringes. The one that II had given him the night before.
Lavender and honey dance with warm smoke and the salt of the sea, soaking the fabric, as III unfurls the soft blanket in his arms and carefully drapes it over Ivy's still frame.
"This okay?" III asks, no nervousness in his voice. As if he knows that he's got Ivy's permission and that of his mates’. But he's still far too kind to simply act without explicit consent. Ivy appreciates the sentiment of that gesture. Realizes now how important trust and safety are within their pack. Even when they're angry or annoyed with each other, there is still implicit trust. And so much overwhelming affection.
Vessel doesn't lead like a tyrant, only a confident leader assured of his position and willing to make concessions. III's the emotional pillar and supportive one, tending to their needs, grounding them, and accessing the unfamiliar faces around them with curiosity. And II...Ivy doesn't know what sort of magic thrums in II's veins. Never seen or met an Omega so confident and unafraid of everything. Of Alphas, both his mates and the ones who aren't. Of unfamiliar landscapes and seas of unknown faces. Of taking charge. Of putting himself between quarrels and calming them into silent displays of affection.
Ivy nods, his eyes still tired from sleep, as III grins downward at him before tentatively reaching out and brushing the hair out of his eyes.
"Good night then," III grumbles lowly, and strangely, Ivy's Alpha does not bristle from the touch. It seems to have given into the desire to find a place for himself within their dynamic. Contented to know that it would not be stifled, nor dominated, at every turn.
Free to exist. To defend. To puff out his chest towards perceived threats, and perhaps even the other Alphas present, knowing that it would not escalate beyond verbal exchanges. Ivy's never been one to submit. Vessel's display of power being the first. And while he knows that he cannot be the top dog here, he refuses to allow himself to be caged.
Except no one here holds a key.
Only respect and trust for one another and appreciation for what they each bring to the table.
"Good night, III," Ivy grumbles. Pulls the blanket over his bare torso and crowds it beneath his nose as III dims the lights. Ivy notices that his phone is placed on the nearby charger. Mumbles out a quiet thanks to the other Alpha before III hums in acknowledgment and makes towards the bedroom once more.
Ivy wonders what it would be like to join them in II's monstrous nest; not as an intruder or outsider, but as someone welcomed.
He breathes in the scent of the three of them, lets it wrap around his rib cage, and allows it to ferry him back to sleep.
-
The next morning, with most of his clothes returned to him, Ivy finds himself in a park.
With Vessel. Running laps around a glimmering pond. While III cheers them on from a nearby bench. And II...times them.
"Stop going so slow," II grumbles as they pass once more. A displeased frown on his lips as Vessel laughs breathlessly and Ivy skids to a stop beside him. "You're supposed to be warming up, not getting worse."
"That's the spirit, love." III chimes in as he slings an arm around II's shoulders, drawing him in. "You're a great motivational speaker."
"Vessel told me to be harder on him," II grumbles, cheeks turning red as he glares at the Dominant Alpha. "Stop smiling at me like that."
"I was just thinking," Vessel chuckles before he wipes his brow and turns to Ivy with the same wicked smirk on his lips. "You any good at pushups? I'm gonna assume yes, judging by the guns."
"Yeah," Ivy confirms as he catches his breath, stretching out his back in the process.
"You ever tried doing pushups with someone on your back?" Vessel questions, a glimmer in his eyes that stops Ivy mid-stretch. Ivy nods, suddenly nervous over where this is going. "Go on then, II. You can keep my time and help Ivy out."
"Evil," III chuckles as he playfully nudges II in the arm. "I like it. Go on, little love."
"You owe me lunch," II hisses at Vessel, bearing his painfully adorable fangs at his mate, as Ivy's brain continues to short circuit. Buffering. Failing to load. A fatal flaw in his algorithm. II cocks his head to the side, eying him up. "Don't let these idiots make you do something that you don't want to do."
"No, no," Ivy says way too quickly. Drops to a knee even faster, hands outstretched to balance himself as he eyes the grass below him. "You look light, but every bit helps, right?"
"Sure, I guess. I don't give a shit about working out, though. I just do this to help Ve," II mumbles, an honest sounding sentiment, as he approaches him further. Ivy gulps. Steadies himself. Then, II slowly turns around and tentatively sits on the edge of his back. Ivy truthfully barely needs to readjust. It takes more effort to keep his heartbeat and breathing in check from the proximity and the comforting smell of II's scent than it does to keep himself aloft with the little Omega’s added weight.
"Perfect form!" III whistles, laughing and clapping his hands, as Ivy effortlessly lowers himself down and raises back up, balancing II carefully where the drummer sits perched on top of him.
"Go run, Ve. Stop checking out Ivy," II chastises, his tone entirely too amused, as Ivy himself barks out a laugh and increases his pace. "You two better take a nap when we get back. We've got a set tonight."
"Told you he was a little tyrant, IV." III snorts, and Ivy doesn't need to look up to know that II glares at his other mate. "Don't look at me like that, doll! You know I like it when you're proper bossy."
"I'll make you swim laps in the pond if you don't watch it," II huffs, but that, too, is an amused thing.
"Sign says no swimming," Ivy chimes in, flushing furiously underneath the weight of their gaze. Underneath the literal weight of II.
"Think that will stop me?" II laughs, an honest to God laugh, and Ivy melts at the sound. Crystalline. Happy. Bright. So beautiful that his arms shake. Not from the stress of his position. No. Rather, out of sheer happiness. He's never felt so content before. "Don't let these guys boss you around, though. Vessel's a sucker for people caring about him, even if he fights you on it, stand your ground. He will back down and listen. If he doesn't, I'll put him on the couch."
"Ouch," III whistles once more. Ivy barely catches sight of the bassist's wince as he rises back up before descending towards the ground again.
"If III's being a diva, just know it comes from a place of care. But his Alpha is pretty insistent on taking care of people. If he wants to brush your hair, or rub your back, or something else, and you don't want him to, just let him down easily. He's a crybaby," II continues, warm fondness in his tone.
"I am not!" III huffs. Mock offended. A laugh blossoming forth not a moment later as the scent of cedarwood and hearth smoke swirl in the air. Picked up by the breeze. Washing over them. "II, why are you airing out our dirty laundry today?"
"Ivy wants to be a part of our pack, doesn't he?" II returns and Ivy stills then, holding himself half an arm's length away from the dirt as II's words sink in. "Vessel's given him the nod for us all to try it out, so he might as well know what he's walking into."
A pause.
"Hey. I didn't say you could stop." II grumbles, patting him firmly between the shoulder blades. Ivy's face flushes, not at all from exertion, as he forces himself upright once more. Then back down again. Heat coils in his gut. His cock strains against his joggers. He can't help but wonder how that remark would sound in any other given context.
"Fair enough," III concedes before he snickers. "II's bossy, and he might grumble and complain a lot, but he likes being held and carried around. Loves snuggling, too. He’s like a princess. Oh, and gifts. You should have seen him swooning in the car after you bought him that courting gift, and-"
"Do you want to wind up in the pond?" II interjects, huffs, something embarrassed in his tone.
"Vess is almost back," III mutters out through another chuckle as II laughs again. Ivy doesn't know what he finds humorous. If it was III's commentary. Something he did. Or something Vessel did, but Ivy doesn't care to know. Only knows that he'd keep doing pushups in the park forever if it meant that he could hear II laugh like that again. Hear III speak so fondly to his mate, and even to him. Speaking to him as if he already belonged in some way and wasn't merely vying for their attention.
"Better," II concludes as Vessel comes to a stop beside them. Panting heavily. Hands bracing on his knees. Ivy raises up, watches the grass and weeds beneath his hands sway in the wind before he turns to Vessel. Bare chest. Skin pink from exertion. Dark hair plastered to his forehead. Dark eyes filled with mirth. Fangs glinting prettily in the brilliant sunlight with every breath he takes.
He looks good like that. Like sin itself. Ivy's always thought Vessel was attractive. He'd be blind not to. But here, soaked in sweat with his skin glimmering from its moisture, he looks downright gorgeous.
Ivy’s Alpha perks up at that. Intrigued. Appreciating the view before it. No longer as confused as it had been the day prior. Ivy’s glad they’re on the same page now.
"We...done for the day?" Vessel manages out through a few more pants before he dusts his hands on the fabric of his trousers.
“Yeah, that's enough for one day.” II mutters, hopping off Ivy’s back and stretching like a spoiled cat. “Don’t pull a muscle getting up, Ivy. III will hover like a mother hen if you do.”
Ivy gets off of the ground with a smile. Arms aching. Legs shaking. Cheeks dusted pink. But a genuine look of happiness in his eyes.
III flips II off with a sunny grin as he rises from the bench. Something that II rolls his pretty eyes at before returning the gesture with ease.
Ivy chuckles as Vessel bumps playfully into him. Wobbling like a newborn foal as Ivy stretches out his sore limbs. He breathes in deep the fresh air. Let’s their scents wash over him. Let’s it all sink in.
They want him here. They really do.
They listen to instinct. They don't shrink away from it. They're fast moving. Intense. But so very kind. So very respectful. So obviously loving of one another.
And Ivy...Ivy thinks that maybe he doesn't mind how quickly it's all coming together. He thinks that it feels right. To be there with them. To play alongside them on stage. To share meals with them. To share space. To share scent and laughter.
He may have only imprinted on II, but he thinks that he's falling.
Hard.
Fast.
Not just for II.
For all of them.
He doesn't want to lose the feeling that washes over him as they crowd around one another and exit the park. The feeling of warmth in his chest and of the genuine smile on his lips.
Don't screw this up, he tells his Alpha. Tells himself.
I won't, both parts of him return.
A promise made to himself.
Vessel pulls him out of his reverie as the Dominant Alpha brushes against him as they walk. Vessel’s hand idly drifting outward. Brushing Ivy’s wrist. The sea swells. The touch lingers. Just a moment too long to be anything but intentional.
Ivy lets him for a moment then shifts his hand. His own Alpha taking a bit of charge.
Asserting his own brand of dominance.
He dislodges Vessel's lithe fingers. Brushes their wrists together.
Scents him right back.
Vessel's smile is wolfish. But it is happy. Golden.
“II was right about you, I think,” Vessel says, quieter than before. Still out of breath. His skin flushed with crimson from the honesty of his words beneath the sweat and sun. "I think that you'll fit in well here."
Ivy's breath hitches at that. A beat passes before Vessel snickers.
“Besides, the view certainly doesn’t hurt your case either.”
Vessel laughs and jogs ahead, but Ivy doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.
Not until the warmth in his chest turns into something glowing.
Not until II looks back, his hand wrapped around III's swaying arm, a fond smile on the drummer's pretty lips.
"You coming or what?"
Ivy thinks that he beats his own previous pace as he jogs to catch up to them.
Chapter 5: Tear Down
Summary:
We getting a little emotional in this chapter. Softness and light angst ahead. I know I said I wouldn't do chapter warnings, but here they are regardless. Slightly longer than usual. 6k words. This is the pivotal chapter, though. :)
Notes:
Okay, since I said the last chapter was the bonus one, here's the next one. Posted on the day the other chapter was meant to be posted.
inb4 Download makes me update early. Again.
Thank you all so much for the incredible support on this fic! I'm blown away, really. You all are so very lovely. <3 I'll be responding to all the comments this afternoon, but thank you all so much! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic.<3
Not beta-read! Please, pardon any errors.
As always, enjoy and take care!
Chapter Text
Ivy's spent the past few days learning to navigate his new surroundings. His unfamiliar position.
Their second show went off without a hitch. Fans cried. Moshed. Sang.
They all walked onto stage smiling and left smiling, too.
He's learned a few things since then.
How II insists on doing laundry because no one else can manage to clean their clothing without fucking with their scents. How much III enjoys shopping, especially at vintage stores. How Vessel decompresses himself from the stress of touring by playing video games on his handheld console and laptop at night.
Pleasant things. Domestic things. Things that led Ivy on stage for their next show with warmth in his chest and a smile on his lips.
The show went criminally well. Crowd feverish and shrieking. Vessel incandescent beneath the stage lights. III wild but spot on. II drumming like a demon behind the kit. Pitch perfect vocals from both Ivy himself and Vessel. Soundcheck completed without a hitch. Set up done on time. Tear down done even faster but with the same level of precision. Ivy’s hands ache in the best way. Wrists sore. Chords and strings still buzzing in his memory.
Show three out of nine completed. One for the books.
Perfect.
And yet.
The stars look oddly distant tonight.
The stage is long since packed away. Crew scattered. Bus humming faintly a few paces off. Its interior thick
with familiar scents and laughter.
Ivy takes the incoming call behind a stack of storage crates waiting to be loaded, a still lit cigarette dangling from his lips. Half forgotten. It hangs from his lips more for show than for any real satisfaction.
“Oi! Look who’s still alive and kicking!” Jack’s voice bursts through the tinny speaker. There's a cacophony of laughter in the background. “Lads, look! It's the runaway frontman!"
“Fuck off,” Ivy mutters, but he’s already smiling. Cigarette bobbing up and down. A blend of affection and guilt swirls in his gut. Cold and warm all at once.
“You said it was just an audition,” Owen adds. Mock-offended. “Then you vanished like you’d been bloody drafted.”
“Thought we’d have to send a search party,” says Bryn with a hearty laugh. “Maybe stage a memorial for you. Have Gethin put your name on the pub chalkboard and everything. The works.”
“I didn’t ghost you lot. I’ve just been… busy.” Ivy groans, scrubbing a hand through his freshly dried hair.
“Oh, we figured. You’re a proper rockstar now.” Jack teases, but not unkindly. “We saw the social feeds from tonight. You looked good up there. Sound like a fucking menace, too. They're lucky to have you, mate.”
"It felt good. Feels good." Ivy re-lights his cigarette. Breathes in just to exhale the smoke. Watches it vanish into the night.
The words slip out. Honest. Almost too much so.
A beat passes. Silence stretching.
“So… you staying on with them then?” Owen asks, more gently. “Not just for this tour? I know you're not getting in that studio. But I don't imagine that they want a constant revolving door of guitarists either. Touring member only, or not.”
“I don’t know. No one's made up their minds yet.” Ivy answers honestly. Ashes his smoke. Chewing on his bottom lip. Hoping it's a permanent fixture. Hoping he's earning it. Wanting to stay. Not just for the music. Not just for the ravenous fans. Or the tours and amenities. But for them. The pack he's keen on joining. The people he's falling steadily in love with. He doesn't want to leave. But Vessel's words still linger in his mind.
Permanence is earned.
“You have,” Jack says. Not accusing. Just knowing. “They might not have. But you've already made up your mind.”
Ivy flinches like it hits. Because it does.
He turns to lean his shoulder against the cool metal siding of the bus. Let’s the familiar sounds coming out from the creaked open-door wash over him. III’s chuckle. II’s snort-laugh. Vessel’s deep, rolling rasp. The sound of some comedy film playing idly in the background.
He wants to be there. Inside. With them.
“I really like it here,” he says at last.
Silence. It’s louder this time. Far louder than the noise behind him.
“It’s not just about the gigs, is it?” Jack says finally, voice quieter now. “This about the person you imprinted on?”
Ivy doesn’t answer right away.
And that is answer enough.
"Well, shit." Jack whistles low. "Knew you had it bad from that call we had."
"You serious, Ivy?" Owen lets out a groan.
“You absolute cliché,” Bryn mutters out from behind a snort.
“Shut up,” Ivy says, laughing despite himself. Despite the awkward tension. His Alpha bristles. His confidence feels shaky. “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose.”
“Yeah, no one ever imprints on purpose,” Jack drawls. “You got yourself a cute little mate then?"
“No, no mate,” Ivy hisses. Cheeks flushing. Alpha grumbling something almost akin to a growl.
“Yet,” they all chorus. Cackling afterward.
“Fuck’s sake,” Ivy mutters, dragging hard off the cigarette again.
“Don’t worry,” Owen says, his voice turning sincere again. “We’re proud of you, bruv. And really happy for you. It's just…”
“We miss you,” Jack adds, softer. “Not just the gigs and shows. You.”
“I miss you lads, too.” Ivy tells them. Means every word. His stomach ties in knots. Aching for the familiarity of a home he's unsure he will ever return to. A home he isn't sure he wants to return to. Even if he does miss the people that once filled it. Who talk with him now. Old friends. Friends he's been through hell and back with.
Who have seen him at his worst. Given him side gigs for quick cash when he needed it. Let him crash on their couches. Raid their cupboards for food. Helped him keep his family together and his kid brother out of trouble. The kind of friends he's fought with but always made up with.
Ivy will always have a place for them in his life. Even if his life changes drastically. Permanently. Going in a direction that he wants it to but is unsure of.
Another pause.
Laughter echoes again from the bus. Loud and warm and alive.
II sounds happy. Vessel sounds content. III sounds blissful.
He knows he'd sound the same way if he only just stepped inside to join them.
“You still gonna finish the EP?” Bryn asks with a lilt in his voice.
“I want to,” Ivy says as he tosses the burnt-out cigarette into a nearby disposal bin. “And I will. This is not over. You lads deserve more, and I haven’t given up on us.”
“Good,” Jack murmurs. Ivy can hear his smile.
“Send us demos when you can,” Owen requests. “We’ll hold you to it.”
“You always do,” Ivy says, smiling faintly.
They exchange goodbyes and pleasantries before Ivy ends the call. His phone screen goes black. His reflection stares back, wan and tired eyed underneath the low glow of the venue's parking lot lamps. He stays outside a few moments longer. Tucking his phone into the pocket of one of his new leather coats. He tries not to think about the way his hands feel empty without a guitar or a phone in them.
Then, he turns and walks back toward the bus.
Warmth spills out from the slightly open door. The sounds of his present washes over him.
His future, maybe.
He steps inside without hesitation.
-
Ivy wakes up to a notification. One that cuts through sleep in an instant.
A bank deposit.
A number with more zeros attached than feels warranted. He wasn't expecting it to get approved so soon. Knows it must have been Vessel or II's nod that finalized it.
Ivy sits up instantly. Staring downward at the deposit confirmation and amount before he logs into his banking app. It's enough to wipe his credit card debts. Pay his share of the rent back home for the next twelve months. Send some to his sister and little brother to help them out with the bills that always pile up. Enough to stock his pantry. Fill his refrigerator with more than just frozen meals and condiments.
He smells his scent souring the air but doesn't realize the face he's pulling until III's calm voice cuts through the quiet.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ivy looks up from his phone. Sees III come to a halt before him. Vaguely hears II and Vessel talking softly from their bedroom. Voices still sleepy. Their conversation muted.
He takes a deep breath. Stares into III's kind eyes before rubbing at his forehead.
"I'm just...bloody grateful, that's all." Ivy confesses with a slight shrug. It's an embarrassing topic. But III's expression is anything but judgmental as Ivy shows him the deposit information for context. "Pains me to say it, but I've never had this much cash before."
"Vess, II, and I slept in a studio flat together for three years," III tells him with a small smile. Ivy blinks as III takes a seat next to him. "I worked as a bartender. II worked as a line cook. And Vessel worked at a local music shop that sold vinyls and the like. When our old van broke down, it felt like the end of the world. We couldn't afford the parts. Had to beg friends to pack their shitty cars with pieces of our gear to get it to and from gigs. We lost more money than we made back then. Sometimes there were only ten people watching us. We understand what it's like to make sacrifices for your dreams."
The bedroom door quietly shuts. Plunges them into quiet. Emotions pile up in the breadth of silence.
"The lads back home deserve success, too." Ivy says before he can stop himself. Guilt rearing its ugly head again. His Alpha growls at him. His logic. His own weaknesses. "Fuck, mate. You're annoyingly easy to talk to. I didn’t want to say that aloud."
"That's the nature of the beast," III laughs heartily. Not at him. Or his plight. But as a way of reminding Ivy subtly of his traits and nature. Ivy smiles back at him. Breathes in III's comforting scent and nods his head along in agreement. "You don't have to give up on your own dreams, or theirs, Ivy. You can have both, you know? And if you do wind up sticking around, you can always help them from here, too."
"I really want to stay," Ivy admits as he shifts on the couch. Peeling off the blanket that covered him. The blanket that smelled of the others. His own scent has been weaved into the fabric now. The brisk air nips at his bare chest. III's arm is warm where it brushes his.
"For what it's worth," III says with a grin as he bumps shoulders with him. Catching Ivy's gaze fully. Lopsided smile and hearth smoke. Comforting and warm. "We like you being around, too. Vessel's got the final word there, but things have been going well. Between you and me, the hard part is already over. Done with and dusted. If you hadn't backed down when Vessel cornered you, you'd be just another Fore. Another guitarist. Nothing more."
"I'm not all that keen on being submissive, but I know when to swallow my pride." Ivy tells him with another small shrug. His bare arm ghosts over III's upper arm. Brushing against the bassist's sleeves. "Think a lot of it has to do with being a Guardian. I'm the reactive type. Not the offensive, domineering kind. I don't need to be top dog to do what my instinct demands of me."
"Which is why you're doing so well here," III says sincerely. Leans into him further. Ivy's scent isn't sour now. Comforted. Warm and vibrant like the sun. "I don't back down when it comes to instinct. You saw Vess and I arguing the other day. But Vessel trusts my instincts and listens to them. He's always been adamant about embracing that part of ourselves. Even if that means that he has to embrace what he is. Even the parts of himself that he doesn't like."
Ivy tilts his head at that.
"Like what?" He asks, genuine in his curiosity. III offers him an apologetic smile.
"You would have to ask Vessel that yourself some time," III answers. Words Ivy concedes to immediately. Offering the other Alpha a curt nod of understanding.
Ivy opens his mouth to speak only for words to escape him. A sound pierces the silence. A moan. A pretty. Breathtaking. Intoxicating. Moan.
II.
III cracks a wild grin then. Nudges him on the arm before tilting his head towards the door to the bus.
"You keen on going for a walk? Check out a few shops or something? Maybe grab a bite," III asks, presenting him with a distraction. Ivy's Alpha flares. Bristles. Craves. Wants. His cock twitches. His gums ache. He shivers as he forces himself off of the couch.
For a moment, he thinks that III might stop him as he makes for the bunks. For going to his own would bring him closer to the bedroom. But the bassist doesn’t intervene.
The bedroom echoes with the sounds of breathy noises. A squeaking bed frame.
Vessel growls. Not quietly.
Ivy's Alpha comes more alive then. Pupils dilating. Hands shaking as he reaches for a freshly laundered shirt, courtesy of II, before he slips it on over his head. He slides on his sneakers and quickly makes it back to III's side.
The bassist offers him a hand. Wiggles his fingers outward. A silent gesture. The desire for contact. Closeness.
Ivy takes it without thinking. III's hands are so much larger than his own. Callused like his are. But kind. Grounding.
It's brisk outside when they step off the bus, but their skin is warm.
Neither one of them wears a coat.
-
"Nice of you to finally join us."
"You know how it goes," Vessel laughs. His deep voice cutting through the quaint cafe's air as he leans down and places a kiss on III's cheek. The singer looks spent. Exhausted in a good way. Freshly showered and covered head to toe in black attire. Vessel's lips linger on III's cheek. "Missed you."
"Missed you, too, love,” III returns affectionately.
Ivy doesn't need to think about what they mean by that. Knows what they mean. Missed each other in bed. Wrapped up in each other's limbs. In II's nest. In theirs.
"We're out of energy drinks," II pouts as he sits down next to Ivy. No preamble or greetings. Only a satisfied look in his eyes in spite of the jutting outward of his bottom lip.
"I'll buy you a case," Ivy offers. Smiles when he realizes he can do that now. Not with a simple credit card swipe. But with his own money. Money he's earned. Money he worked hard for. Money he's thankful and proud over having for the first time in his life.
"Did you get paid today?" Vessel asks as he begrudgingly lets go of III. Takes a seat beside his Alpha partner. Slings his arm over the back of III's chair and pulls him in closer. An oddly possessive display. Ivy smells the air. The roaring sea. Stronger now. Ivy chews on his bottom lip and nods. Reaches for his water as II's scent cuts through the air. As if silently telling Vessel to reel it in. Vessel does so immediately. "Good, I'm glad it went through."
"I appreciate it," Ivy tells him sincerely before he sips his drink.
"I take care of my own," Vessel muses offhandedly as he reaches for the menu.
Ivy stills. Blinks. But neither Vessel nor III look at him. II gazes at him sideways. Accessing him. Looking at his reaction. But the little Omega is quick to look away, too. Picking up his own menu and browsing the options.
"These portions look huge," II grumbles, pulling him from his thoughts. "If I get something, will you finish what I don't eat? I don't want it to go to waste."
It takes a moment for Ivy to realize that II is talking to him. Asking him. Offering him something in lieu of his own mates.
"Sure, just get what you want." Ivy answers as he clears his throat. Leaning back and to the side slightly. Closer to II as the Omega skims over the options. He's dripping in Vessel's scent. Marks of affection peeking out from the hoodie that he wears. III's, if memory serves him correctly. It faintly smells like him. Cedar wood and open flame. Ivy finds their scents hypnotic. Lulling. Comforting.
He wonders if his scent offers them the same.
"I think I'm going to wear that stagewear you bought me tonight," II says as he looks up from the menu. Dead into Ivy's eyes. Pale blue glimmering with a slight smugness. A touch of teasing. But beneath it there is something else. Something beautiful. Affection. Ivy's heart does a somersault in his rib cage. "I got you something, actually. It's back on the bus."
Ivy clears his throat again. Doesn't quite trust himself enough to speak without doing so first.
"You got me something?" He asks. Gaze softening. Voice and tone pitched lower. Radiating pure and utter adoration.
"I'll give it to you when we get back," II answers with a curt nod. A faint blush on his pale cheeks. "It'll look good on you."
It could be a fake beard and mustache for all Ivy cares.
It was a gift from II.
He smiles so wide that his gums ache as they place their order. He eats every bite of his breakfast and the other half of II's.
Just as he had promised to.
-
II looks radiant as he emerges from the bedroom. Clad in the tight-fitting top that Ivy had purchased him.
It hugs his frame in all the right places. The eyelets on the sleeves threaded together with ribbon over the defined musculature of his arms. A silver necklace compliments the look. Dual scythes crossing over one another.
Ivy's scent flares. An entirely pleased droning sound ripping through his throat as he perks up from where he sits on the sofa. II approaches him with a grin. A glimmer of something wonderful in his pale blue eyes as he approaches him. His steps are confident. But there's a tick of nervousness in his scent. Simmering honey. Something Ivy shares in as the drummer comes to a stop before him and lets Ivy take in the sight before him fully.
Unabashed. Unashamed.
"You look..." Ivy rasps, his mouth suddenly dry, "gorgeous."
"Such a charmer," II snorts, but it is something fond. "Here, that gift I promised you."
II extends a small black box outward. Something Ivy reluctantly glances at as he tears his gaze away from the little Omega before he tentatively reaches for it. II's scent upticks again. Nervous as Ivy slowly opens the box.
Nestled in black felt sits a silver scythe necklace. Different than II's own, but clearly from the same maker.
Ivy's breath hitches. His scent rises. Amber dancing over fields of flowers, cutting through hives of honey. Warm leather colliding with vanilla, smoky and warm, and comforting.
"Fuck, II," Ivy breathes out as he carefully extracts the necklace and holds it aloft in his hands. They shake a little. Overwhelmed. His first ever courting gift. And it comes from II. His Alpha swells within him. Overjoyed and overcome. "This is perfect. Thank you."
"Just make sure that you don't lose it," II teases as he reaches outward. He pauses for a second as their gazes meet before he carefully extracts the necklace from Ivy's fingers. Ivy blinks upward at him, radiating fondness as II's lips twitch upward. His cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink. Ivy infers what he wants. Licks his lips as he slowly leans forward and bows his head. II lets out a breathy sound as he takes half a step forward.
Ivy can't help but sigh as his face meets the fabric of II's shirt. It smells of him. But beneath that, somehow, Ivy still gleans his own scent. Lingering. Fading. But present. He smiles as II's hands bring the chain around his neck, fastening the necklace in place. II's heartbeat echoes in his ears. The soft rise and fall of his chest moving Ivy's face slightly with each breath that the Omega takes.
For a moment, they don't move.
Then, II mumbles something indiscernible beneath his breath and slowly coils his hands on the back of Ivy's head. Fingers thread through his hair. Drawing him closer. Pushing him into II's lithe torso. He groans into the fabric of II's shirt in spite of himself. Shuddering violently as II hums a sound of contentment, a borderline purr, while his fingers comb through Ivy's locks.
"Never got to thank you for the gift," II muses, his voice a soft, adorable thing. "So, consider this my thanks."
"You don't have to thank me," Ivy mumbles as he slowly raises his arms and encircles II in them. It feels right, holding him like this. Breathing him in. Keeping him safe and sheltered in his embrace. His Alpha feels nothing but sheer bliss. Ivy feels nothing but elation. "Your gift is perfect. You're perfect."
He almost curses himself. Doesn't. Not when II actually purrs from his words.
"Smooth talker, are we?" II whispers, fingers digging in slightly. Pulling another full body shiver from Ivy in the process.
Ivy wants to respond, but he lacks the ability to do little more than think. Than breathe. As II abruptly dislodges his hold, leans down, and nuzzles into the side of his neck.
Ivy's eyes go wide. His breathing halted. As II gingerly rubs their scent glands together, purrs against him, then slowly leans his weight more into him. Caged between Ivy's parted legs. Hovering over him slightly and pressed against him at the same time.
Scenting him.
Ivy's hands rise on their own accord. Hold him there. His eyes fluttering closed as he whines and allows himself, and his Alpha, to simply be. To experience something neither one of them had before. The feeling of marking. The feeling of mutual desire between Alpha and Omega. Not one borne out of the need for skinship and pleasure. But rather from something else entirely.
It is heavenly.
It is connection. Genuine want. Affection.
Slowly building love.
II sighs softly before cutting himself off, as if he's letting something go.
"I'm a Harmonic Omega, by the way," II whispers abruptly, and Ivy's eyes once more go wide. "III calls me pack glue. I'm not an Empath like III, so your thoughts and feelings are your own. But my presence is meant to be soothing. Especially for Alphas. That's why I can make III and Vessel shut up when they're butting heads. I amplify things. Tune the bad stuff out. Bring out the good in people. Or so Vessel says."
II laughs softly then, but it is not entirely a humored thing.
"I can't control people though," II continues, leaning further into him. All but collapsed into his embrace. Ivy would hold him there forever if the little Omega would let him. "Can't change their emotions or what's in their hearts. Found that out the hard way. Before you, and before our last guitarist -who was just a prick-, there was someone else who wanted to be in our pack. But he resented Vessel’s leadership and hated III’s heartfelt concerns."
Ivy frowns then. Knows where this is going. Hates it.
Hugs II tighter. Scenting the little Omega back until II is breathless.
A shaky inhale, then II breathes out against him.
"I tried so hard," II admits. Bitterness in his voice. Hurt. Raw. Ivy nuzzles him again. Draws him in until he's impossibly close. No longer hovering.
II sits fully in his lap. Straddles his thighs. Their necks resting against one another's. II's chin propped up on the back of the sofa. Ivy's resting on II's shoulder.
"All I want," Ivy starts, and he, too, is breathless. "All I want is to know that you're safe. Happy. That's what my Alpha needs, II. I don't need control. I don't need to know every emotional moment's origin. Or have the weight and responsibility of leadership on my shoulders. I just want this. To keep an eye on you. All of you. To watch your back. To protect you."
II shifts, and then, Ivy feels a smile pressed against the skin of his cheek.
His breath catches in his throat once more.
His Alpha remains still. Content. Not forcing desire down his throat. His body and his wants in perfect harmony as II slowly kisses the skin of his cheek before climbing off of his lap.
Ivy watches him, speechless, as II blushes and turns on his heel towards the bedroom once more.
"I know that," II tells him as he pads away from him. Picking up an energy drink can on his way. Another thing that Ivy bought for him. He smiles at II's back. His cheek burning from the lingering remnants of II's touch. Before II retreats into the bedroom, he looks back. Offers him a genuine smile. "We all do, Ivy."
Ivy swallows thickly, tilts his head back as the door closes once again.
The sun's begun to dip over the horizon. The day giving way to night.
In three hours, they'll take to the stage.
But for now, Ivy just sits. Smiling until his gums ache. II’s and Vessel’s scent soaked into his skin. Steeped into his bones.
Against his chest and rapid heartbeat, the necklace is warm.
-
Their set that night goes off without a hitch.
Crowd buzzing. Music pitch perfect. II playing his heart out. Wearing a shirt that Ivy bought him. Drinking energy drinks that Ivy gave him. III ramping up the crowd. Parading around the stage and teasing all three of them with affectionate gestures. Vessel grinning from ear to ear from the time that they take to the stage to the time that they settle down on the road once again.
Ivy's tired. The comfortable kind of tired after a long day filled with a plethora of new emotions, and even newer experiences. He's only just finished checking in with his family back in Wales, settled into his usual place upon the couch, when Vessel takes a seat beside him.
"I know I've mentioned it during rehearsals before," the singer begins as he brushes back his shower damp hair. "But your harsh vocals are top fucking notch."
Ivy smiles at him as he locks his phone. Makes a mental reminder to respond to his band's group chat again later before he props his head up on his hand. Giving Vessel his undivided attention.
"We harmonize pretty fucking well, don't we?" Ivy asks through his grin. Means every word of it. Vessel's highs and his lows meld together perfectly. The crowd went wild every single time that their voices accompanied each other’s. "At least my fingers aren't bleeding over the strings again."
"Have they healed up entirely?" Vessel inquires, raising a brow. Extending a hand outward. Palm up. Asking for Ivy's own.
He swallows thickly as he lays his hand in Vessel's. Palm up, just like his.
Vessel picks his hand up; his eyes scrutinize his skin. Raking over the few remaining scabs. The calluses. Over the entirety of his fingers.
"Looking better," Vessel muses. Ivy hums before a smirk catches on his lips. He flips his hand over. Seizes Vessel's with his own. Slots their fingers together. Thinks it feels nice as warmth saturates his cheeks. Staining them darker. Crimson.
"Feels better, too." Ivy teases, drinking in the pleased sound Vessel emits as the Dominant Alpha's wolfish grin fills his gaze. "Appreciate you trusting me with all of this. Your secrets. Your songs. You all… just in general."
"You're a Guardian Alpha," Vessel drones, deep voice pitched an octave lower. Ivy shivers from the sound alone. "You're supposed to protect and guard things. I figured you'd handle this with care and discretion."
"Always," Ivy assures him. Slots their wrists together. Shivers, again. Feels Vessel's scent seep into him. Feels his own scent seep into Vessel's freshly cleaned skin. "I don't know if III told you, or if you've figured it out already, but I'm the reactive type. Don't go running my mouth or picking fights. I end things. Don't start them."
"I figured as much," Vessel acknowledges with a slight inclination of his head. It's not posturing, not in the given context between them. Merely another nod given. Approval. "Wouldn't trust you for shit if you were the offensive kind."
"You've really done your research," Ivy chuckles, eyes crinkling. He hopes Vessel enjoys drowning in his own endless blues.
"Had to," Vessel concedes easily. Somehow that doesn't surprise him. "I already told you that I'm protective. We weren't looking for anything when we set out to find a new guitarist for the tour. But that changed when you stumbled into our audition room."
Ivy can't help but think of II then. Of the still-healing pain in his voice. The IV before he came around.
He tries to not to let it show.
"I hope that I was a pleasant surprise then," Ivy says sincerely. His heart beating wildly in his chest as Vessel squeezes his hand. "How'd you all wind up together, anyway? If you don't mind me asking."
"I fell head over heels in love with II when a friend introduced him to me. Said he'd be a good fit for my style, and I needed someone to elevate the music that I was working on." Vessel admits, his eyes alight with adorable fondness. Soft in a way he could only ever be when talking about his mates. "Think I had it worse than you, really. I've had relationships that felt perfect and gutted me when they ended, but II...II makes all of that seem like faraway background noise. I'd never even look at another Omega now. II is my other half."
Ivy blinks, not entirely unsurprised, but a bit stunned by the openness and honesty.
A clear exercise in trust.
“III came along not long after,” Vessel continues, the same fond glimmer in his eyes. “Didn’t quite know what to make of me, but he was sweet on II and me from the start. Always brought II energy drinks to practice, stayed with me when things got emotional -on stage or off. II and I realized how much we liked that. Having him around. Doting as he is. Painfully kind to us both. There was never any jealousy. No tension. We fell in love with him pretty hard, both of us. My love for III doesn’t look the same as what I have with II, but it runs just as deep. And what III and II share? It’s just as complex and deep as what II and I do. The rest, so they say, is history."
"You all are good for each other," Ivy comments as he holds Vessel's gaze. Radiating warmth and genuineness in his own. "I've never met a pack before with more than one Alpha. Granted, I've never met a Dominant Alpha prior to meeting you."
"Yeah, well," Vessel chuckles before his gaze becomes serious. Ivy watches the flicker of emotion in the singer's eyes. Knowing what he's about to say is serious. The true test in their trust. "I'm a lot to handle, even for someone like II. My instincts...are a lot more intense. My ruts even more so. I... spend the entire time wanting things that I shouldn't. Things that the three of us all agreed to give up on in exchange for all this. The road. The music. There's no place for a proper family in the life that we lead. And to be honest, II needs more support than what I can give him on my own."
Ivy's eyes widen, his lips falling slightly open, as Vessel nods his head slowly. Affording him a moment to process that.
"He's...everything to us, Ivy. III and me. I know that he's important to you, too." Vessel says after a few moments spent in silence. "I love III and II more than anything. And I'm...trusting you to do the same, in time. I can't always be there for them. Not when I get lost in my own head sometimes, too. I need someone bullheaded to pull me out and keep me in line. To watch my back when I'm not capable of watching my own. I'd like to think you'd fit that roll. Keep us guarded. Safe."
"I want that," Ivy tells him, means every word of it. His Alpha bristles, but it is a happy thing. To be given a task. To be given a target in need of protection. To be called upon. "I know things in our world move a bit fast, and I know you're trusting your instinct here, but trust me, Vessel. I won't break that. You have my word."
"When it works, it works." Vessel laughs softly, scoots in a tad closer. "Instincts like ours exist for a reason. We're both Alphas, at the end of the day. We know when to trust our gut."
"We do," Ivy agrees, smiles wider as Vessel stands then tentatively leans in. Ivy's breath hitches.
Warm lips ghost against his cheek. The barest scrape of fangs following it. Ivy shudders violently. His Alpha on alert. Not braced for an attack or threat. Merely processing. New emotions. New dynamics. Things he, and it, have never experienced before.
"Good night," Vessel mumbles against his skin.
"Good night," Ivy says as he turns his head and leans forward. Kisses Vessel's cheek right back.
Vessel's skin is warm beneath his lips. Red. Blushing. Beautiful.
They've said their farewells for the evening. There are no words left to say between them.
Yet, Vessel doesn't pull away. Lingers there. Allowing Ivy's breath to ghost over his skin.
Vessel remains close as he takes a seat next to him once more. And for a moment, Ivy doesn't know what to make of his actions. But then, Vessel's arms encircle him. Not demanding. Asking, as they gently pull him in. Ivy goes willingly. Chuffs in spite of himself as Vessel pulls him down on the couch beside him. Their bodies crammed together against the cushions.
Ivy's cheek on Vessel's chest. Their legs slowly become entwined. Ivy slides his hand across the planes of Vessel's torso. Feels the muscle beneath the fabric. Beneath his fingertips. A hand coils in his hair. Gentle and grounding. Vessel's scent envelops him like a blanket. They don't say anything to one another. Merely lie there. Wrapped up in each other's embrace. Soaking it all in. Basking in their shared warmth. Their mingling scents.
Ivy's not used to this. The closeness. The comfort of another body beside his own outside of the throes of pleasure.
He closes his eyes. Contentment washing over him as sleep begins to lap away at his consciousness.
"Get some rest, love."
III's voice.
Ivy hears the meeting of lips. Creaks an eye open just in time to watch III pull away from Vessel's lips. Smells the roaring flame of the hearth.
His heart skips a beat. His hand leaves Vessel's chest. Rising slowly. Seeking.
III chuckles, slots his own hand against his. They exchange a glance. A moment of silent approval and knowing. Before III leans down and brushes his soft lips against Ivy's brow.
His chest tightens. An entirely pleasant sensation. As III mumbles against his brow.
"Good night, Ivy."
Their hands part. A blanket falls over them both. It smells like III.
Ivy’s arm once more finds a home on Vessel's musculature as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.
Moonlight spills across their joined forms. The road hums beneath them.
The smile on his lips never fades.
Chapter 6: Days Off
Notes:
I'm going to be rather busy this weekend/early week, so I am posting this early. I had two whole days off where it did nothing but storm and I got so much written. It was really nice! Nothing like coffee, writing, and a good thunderstorm to spend the day(s).
Updates will probably be the regularly "scheduled" time next week. I'll do my best to get things done in-between prior commitments. Caffeine empowers me to do crazy things. I can write like a mad woman when I want to. :)
Once more, thank you all so much for the incredible support on this fic. I'm taken aback by it, really! This community is truly the best. <3
This is not beta-read, so please pardon any errors you might encounter. I do my best to catch things, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.
As always, enjoy and take care! (If Download does something to my brain wiring, I'll probably post early again. I can't help it. I swear. I have no concept of scheduled posts and I hate seeing chapters sitting, unposted, in my word docs. T-T)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Six full days until the next gig," III sings as they disembark the ferry. "You boys know what that means."
Ivy's glad that he slept through the worst of it.
Plastered against Vessel's chest. Lulled to sleep by the beating of the singer's heart. He loved the smell of rain, the ocean breeze on Vessel's skin, but he didn't fancy the idea of drifting over the Irish Sea. He's grateful that he was unconscious for the majority of it. Even more grateful that Vessel didn't question why he clung to him like a sloth. Or why he refused to look out of the bus’s window until they had arrived at the port once more.
II had taken mercy on him, too.
Sleepily curling up beside both of them while III lounged on the ground of the bus. II's fingers threading through the bassist's messy bed head while they watched a movie to distract themselves from the voyage.
Ivy's never been more grateful for them, really.
"Ivy doesn't know what that means, actually." II says as he stretches his back and steps off of the bus and onto solid ground for the first time in over twelve hours. “Time to finally let loose the secret.”
"Right," III chuckles, a goofy lopsided grin forming on his lips as Ivy looks at him expectantly. "We've got a rental for three days. It's a bit of a drive from here, but close enough to the next venue."
"Fishing cabin," Vessel explains with a small smirk. Elbowing Ivy playfully. "Water will be a bit cool this time of year, but it'll be beautiful. I booked it the second that our tour dates were finalized. I hope that you don't mind the countryside.” Vessel pauses. Shrugs his broad shoulders. “But if you'd prefer...Sam and the others will be staying in the city and hitting the town."
"We want you with us, but..." II finishes for his mate, chewing on his pretty bottom lip. "If you'd prefer to do something else, or need some space, we understand."
"Not at all," Ivy answers with a genuine smile. Fondness seeping into his eyes as he glances over the three of them. Grateful to be included. "I'm game for a getaway. I haven't been on a holiday in... well, it's been a while."
Never.
He could never afford it. Getting away. Letting go of his responsibilities for more than a single day. Even now when he was technically unemployed and surviving off of gigs and session work, he lived paycheck to paycheck. His parents had never been able to afford it either, growing up. Too many mouths to feed and no proper education. Only factory work and an inherited house with inherited problems that ate away at their savings. Ivy was working the moment that he was old enough. His sister joining their parents in the factories by the time she turned eighteen.
Ivy's first guitar was the sole big gift that his parents had ever been able to afford for him.
It still sits displayed in his crummy shared apartment, back in Wales. The one he shares with Ieuan out of necessity and not necessarily much else. They had drifted apart when Ieuan gave up on the pursuit of music and settled for a job as a day laborer instead. Ivy's barely spoken to him since he's been gone. Only paid his part of the bills through an automatic withdraw and sent the other man a few texts to confirm that things went through. Nothing more.
"You're getting a bit lost in there aren't you?" III's voice brings him back to the present. Snaps him out of his reverie as the bassist leans down and offers him a considerate glance. "As pretty as that head of yours is, stay with us."
"Sorry," Ivy grunts before he clears his throat. "So, fishing cabin?"
"Fishing cabin," III confirms with a beaming smile before tenderly seeking out Ivy's hand. Their wrists brush. Fire washes over him. Warm, but not ablaze. Ivy's breath hitches as he lets his own scent sink in. Marking III back. Ivy no longer cares or worries over what it means for them. Over whether or not there's any skin in the game for either of them.
He just wants III to smell like him.
That’s all.
"Car rental service is up ahead," Vessel says with a nod and a smile all his own. II clings to his arm. Glowering at their crew as they mess about after having exited from their own vehicles. Buses and vans alike pile into the parking lot of the port as they all prepare to go their separate ways for a well-deserved break. "After we grab our things, do you want to drive, III?"
"Sure," III hums, offering Vessel a quick glance before the bassist raises their joined hands. "But only if Ivy gets to ride up front with me."
He’d said the same thing before, but not about Ivy.
Not back then, when everything was still new and uncertain.
Ivy's chest hurts from how happy that simple declaration makes him.
-
The drive winds for kilometers through the countryside.
Ancient trees gather thickly at the edges of the narrow road. Sunlight dapples across the windshield. It’s quiet, save for the hum of the tires over the gravel road and the soft rhythm of III drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Something that II is judging intensely, if his pointed stare is anything to go by. Ivy smiles backward at him. II rolls his pretty eyes in response before burying his face in Vessel's broad chest. Vessel only looks up from his phone and grins.
Ivy turns back to face the road. Still cradling a warm cup from the last coffee stop before they exited the city limits. He hasn’t said much since they hit the road again. Just sat in the passenger seat. The window cracked open to let fresh air in.
After two hours of driving, the cabin finally comes into view.
It’s not what he expected.
It’s… beautiful. Wooden, but warm looking. Dark beams. Fresh paint. Large windows gleaming in the early afternoon sun. A wraparound porch. A stone chimney. Flower boxes under the windowsills blooming soft blues and purples that sway in the breeze.
III pulls their rental into the driveway while Ivy grips his drink in one hand and unfastens his safety belt with the other. Gawking at the sprawling infrastructure as the car shuts off. Vessel and II climb out first. III lingering a moment longer to squeeze Ivy on the knee. Reassuring him. Before the bassist slips out of the car. Ivy cranks the window up and exits after them.
“Smells like fresh water and moldy wood,” II announces as he stretches. “Gods, I love it here already.”
“Ivy?” III asks softly. Golden hair catching the light. Eyes accessing. Always accessing. Always knowing.
"That’s t-the place?” Ivy says. His voice cracks halfway through as he cranes his neck to look at the gorgeous cabin. “We’re staying here?”
"Booked and paid for,” Vessel says with a lilt. Already grabbing their bags from the back of the van. “We always do this as a little tradition. Book a small retreat in-between gigs. First time coming here, but it looked perfect. I wanted to tell you about it, but we wanted it to be a bit of a surprise."
“I’ve never been somewhere like this before,” Ivy admits. Quiet. Stunned. Blinking against the harsh sunlight. “It looks like something straight out of a film.”
“Well, we’re the cast now!” III grins as he nods his head towards the door. “Come on. Vess will grab our stuff.”
"Certified pack mule," Vessel retorts with a laugh. Strong arms easily taking hold of their bags.
II pads on ahead. Seizing the keys from the coded lock box before pushing the door open. Welcoming them inside.
It smells like sage and citrus cleaner. The floors are smooth beneath Ivy’s boots. Freshly mopped. The rugs look unbelievably soft. The fireplace is real. The living room has overstuffed couches with gorgeous blankets draped over the backs and pillows. Quality linen. Not the stuff found in a clearance bin. A full kitchen with sprawling granite and deep green cabinets. Wood paneling on the walls. Warm light fixtures.
No dust. No clutter. No noise.
It’s not quite extravagant. But it’s the nicest place that Ivy's ever been before.
"Mine," II promptly declares as he sprawls out face down onto the largest, plushest couch.
“No such thing as dibs in this house, little love,” III counters, nudging him with his foot. "Besides, you'll be drooling on my chest come nightfall."
"Can you not?" II bemoans. Grumpily creaking an eye open. III laughs heartily as he leans down and kisses his mate's cheek.
"Only teasing, doll," III reminds him with a beaming smile.
Ivy swallows thickly as he glances around. He tries not to show his emotions. Tries not to let them see how deeply this affects him.
III clocks it all the same.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" III questions as he approaches him. Ivy nods, not trusting his voice. Embarrassed but keeping his expression neutral. His Alpha prowls beneath his skin. But it does not bark, nor bite, when III places a grounding hand on the small of his back. "We deserve every bit of this. Let's enjoy it, yeah?"
“You all have worked hard the past few months between rehearsals and the shows.” Vessel murmurs from behind him. Setting their bags down in the entryway before he bolts the door behind them. “Come on. Let's take a proper look around."
They explore like kids.
II finds a stack of old VHS tapes in the living room media cabinet and grins with delight. III calls dibs on the bedroom with the balcony. Only to be reminded by II that there were no dibs to be called. III pouts but doesn't argue. Vessel opens all of the large windows to air out the place. Ivy trails behind them with wide eyes full of quiet appreciation. Soaking it all in. The way that the floor doesn’t creak under his feet. How the fridge is already stocked. The books on the shelves that look well-loved and well read.
Eventually, they make their way out back.
There’s a sprawling wooden deck that stretches out toward the lake. The trees part around it perfectly. Providing them with a clear view of water that glitters underneath the golden sun. The dock is old but clear. Stretching long and low over the quiet, rippling surface of the water.
“Holy shit,” Ivy says under his breath.
“This is really nice,” II says, leaning against the railing.
“I’ve only ever seen places like this in pictures,” Ivy admits in spite of himself. II doesn't judge him for it. Only offers him a fond smile. “Or maybe from the motorway. This is entirely different.”
The wind kicks up. Carries their scents around them, and marries them to the nature that surrounds the abode.
"Glad you came with us," III says earnestly as he steps up beside him. Arms folding over the railing to mimic II. "The crew have proper fun on break, but they get a bit rowdy."
Vessel’s already at the edge of the dock. Surveying the water and the skyline as if accessing the weather. Checking for rain.
II snorts as he steps forward, moving to join the Dominant Alpha. But something in Ivy bristles. Something he hasn't felt in a while. Not even on the edge of the stage when a hat careened towards them and he stepped in its way. What hits him now is something primal. Instinctual and deeply ingrained. He doesn't even register that he's moving as he sidesteps III and wraps his arms firmly around II. Pulling the startled man backward and into safety the very second that the board beneath his feet gives way.
II yelps.
An indignant sound that Ivy would think the drummer would be furious at himself for making. But Ivy can't process it then. Not as wired as he is. Glaring daggers at the floorboards for a beat longer than necessary before he spins II in his arms. His eyes rake over the little Omega's surprised expression before scouring over every centimeter of his body. Ivy's hands shift on their own accord. Seizing II's soft, pale cheeks in his hands as he breathes out roughly.
"Are you okay?" He asks. Voice gruff. Panicked. Laser focused and heaving chested. He has no control over it. How deeply the instinct grips him. How immediately he acts. II blinks at him once.
The dock is silent save for the water's sound and the chirping of nature. III is an unmoving statue beside them. But Vessel is by II's side almost as quickly as Ivy is.
"I'm fine," II assures him. Level toned. Scent flaring. Ivy lets it wash over him. Shivers. Bristles. Growls something primal as lavender and honey sink into him. He feels its attempts to soothe. Its silent offering of peace should he accept it. He breathes in deep. Let’s it unfurl the tension. Bows his head with a deep sigh and quietly steps forward to pull II into his embrace. He can feel Vessel's eyes on their joined frames.
Not angry. Not possessive. Not jealous. Just the response of a pack leader, reacting to the distressed scent that carries in the breeze.
Tainted amber. Burned leather.
Ivy grumbles. A low sound caught in his throat.
"I'm okay, Ivy," II tells him again. Ivy doesn't need to look to know that the pretty Omega rolls his eyes at him. But II nuzzles into him all the same. Ivy relaxes then. Body slackening as he continues to breathe in deep in the bliss that II so selflessly offers him.
"Good reaction time," Vessel notes, his deep voice droning. Ivy listens to his steps as they walk away. Leading to the edge of the pier once again.
"Well played indeed," III chuckles, shifting, too. Ivy knows that he's looking out at the water again. Affording him a moment with II. A moment to still the quiet shake in his hands. The adrenaline that courses through his veins. The way that his Alpha proudly howls in his chest. Overwhelmed and pleased at a job well done.
"I'm not that fragile, just so you know," II whispers against him. Voice fond but a bit smug. "I can handle myself just fine, too."
"I know," Ivy grumbles as he closes his eyes and leans further against II. "Doesn't mean you should ever have to be hurt, though."
"Sweet talk will get you everywhere with II," III calls over his shoulder. II stills against him. Gives Ivy a quick apologetic squeeze before he steps back. Peeling out of Ivy's grasp. Ivy lets him go. Watches the devilish look that appears in II's eyes as he approaches III once more. III grimaces. But his eyes are wide with panic. "We can talk this out, II."
"Couch tonight or the lake now," II grits out as he playfully shoves his mate in the arm. Laughing before he steps forward once again. Around the broken plank. On his way to where Vessel stands waiting for him. "Pick one, III."
"Guess I'm roughing it tonight," III chuckles as he looks at Ivy. Warmth glimmering in his pretty eyes. Ivy snorts as he takes a place beside III once more. His hands gripping the railing. Their arms resting against one another's.
"There's four bedrooms," Ivy snorts as he watches a duck crash down into the water.
"You expect me to argue with II?" III chuckles deeply, elbowing him lightly in the process. Ivy barks out a laugh as he glances upward at the other man. "You'll learn pretty quickly that if little love says that you get the couch, you get the couch."
"I haven't slept in a proper bed in a while,” Ivy snickers. But his heartbeat is still quick from adrenaline. His lips pull back into a smile all the same. "Sounds like you're in quite the predicament, though."
"I'll make it worth your while if you join me," III says smoothly. His eyes half-lidded. Stupidly pretty.
Ivy chews his bottom lip.
"Couch it is for the both of us then," he relents easily. Flirting right back. Gentle, but honest.
Comfortable.
Basking in the sun, nature, and the warmth that grows in his chest.
-
As it turns out, III is a bit of a grill maestro.
Ivy practically salivates as he eyeballs the steak that's laid out before him. Grilled to perfection. A perfect medium rare. Seasoned by the hands of a professional... bassist. But a professional none the less. It's as good as it looks. Gone in mere minutes. Ivy sips the local brew that they had delivered as he pushes the empty plate back on the table and beams.
"You said II was the line cook," Ivy muses as he nudges III with his elbow. The bassist's golden hair sways in the breeze. His eyes widen a bit with mirth as the bassist chews and swallows a bite of steak. "A bartender? You sure that you weren't a pit master, mate?"
"I fucking wish," III chuckles as he reaches for his own pale ale. "You gotta let II cook for you sometime. He makes a shrimp risotto that's to die for."
"His Shepard's Pie is my personal fave," Vessel adds as he finishes his own meal. Slinging an arm around II's shoulders as the little Omega thoughtfully chews his food. "I could live off of it."
"Don't blow smoke up my ass," II huffs as he finishes his most recent bite. Pale blue eyes filled with happiness. His cheeks dusted with the prettiest shade of crimson that Ivy's ever seen. "I'm decent. That's all."
"Don't be humble now," III disagrees as he polishes off his drink. "We're not just saying it because you're our mate. You're genuinely talented, doll."
"I take their word for it, but I'd love to try something you make sometime." Ivy says sincerely as II's gaze lands on him. Warm and appreciative.
"I'll cook something for you eventually," II grumbles before he stabs at his filet with his fork. The drummer's eyes then flit to Vessel. "When I'm finished eating, I'm going to go inside for a bit. Can you start a fire later?"
"Of course," Vessel hums as he leans down and presses his lips to II's brow. "You need a hand with the nest, love?"
"No," II says with a roll of his eyes. Scent flaring. Defensive, Ivy recognizes. Vessel bristles at the sudden outburst of spiced vanilla. Ivy watches as the Dominant Alpha chews on his bottom lip. Sharp fangs digging into soft flesh. "I just need you to keep your ass out of the room until I say otherwise."
Then Ivy’s own Alpha bristles. Not because it expects a negative reaction. But because it is not used to an Omega directing an Alpha. Let alone a pack leader.
Let alone a Dominant Alpha.
But Vessel merely laughs.
"He's never going to let you help with it, Vess. Best give it up," III snorts as he nudges Ivy to get his attention. The bassist's eyes look hazel in the setting sun's light. Crinkling in the corners. Undeniably happy. "Vessel is fascinated with II's designs. We had a fort once."
"You loved the fort," II grumbles. Blushes harder. Before he reaches across the table and seizes the last roll for himself with a small, triumphant smile.
"I fucking loved the fort," III concurs with a beaming grin. Seemingly not minding that his bread was stolen.
"The half-canopy remains my preference," Vessel chimes in as he squeezes II's shoulders before slowly releasing his mate. Standing and absconding with their used dishes. Ivy's included. Vessel glances back at III before departing. “Thanks for dinner, love.”
Ivy means to thank him for clearing the table, but he's lost in thought.
Mind trying, and failing, to visualize the designs that the others speak of.
He's never been in a nest before.
Never seen one in person.
But he cracks a smile all the same and nods his head along.
He polishes off his drink. II quickly finishes his meal before retreating into the house. III hums something jazzy under his breath beside him while Vessel begins working on the fire pit. Ivy watches the Dominant Alpha idly. How the sun makes his dark brown hair glimmer with golden hues. How his athletic form ripples underneath the fabric of his shirt. How his forearms tense when he lifts a heavy log. It is only when Vessel abruptly stops his task that Ivy blinks himself out of his haze of thoughts.
"Excuse me for a second," III remarks beside him. Climbing to his feet a moment later before approaching Vessel. Ivy makes for the cooler to secure another beer. Half paying attention to them as III kneels down beside his mate. Mutters something under his breath that's muted entirely by the breeze.
Ivy smells a rainstorm on the horizon, but the sky itself is clear.
His Alpha stirs within him. Curiosity piqued. Conscious and aware.
Fire carries on the wind. Cedar that smells more strongly than the wooden home that looms behind them. More densely than even the forest.
III's voice is a quiet, painfully soft thing as he encircles his mate with his arms. Nuzzles into Vessel's skin. Scent radiating off of him. Overwriting everything else for just a moment.
"Thank you for everything you do, my love.”
Ivy feels the shift in the air as he averts his gaze. He thinks of III's words. Of Vessel’s own.
The finer parts of Vessel's inner workings and instincts that the pair both alluded to. The parts of himself that Vessel allegedly disliked and struggled against. Ivy knows that the bassist's utterance has a dual meaning. But over what, he cannot say.
Vessel's scent lightens all the same.
The fire pit roars to life with flame.
But it is lesser than the scent of III's brilliant fire.
-
Ivy ducks into the house shortly after II emerges outside an hour later.
Sporting shorts that show off his pale legs and an oversized hoodie that hangs halfway down his muscular thighs.
Ivy's heart had failed to beat when he had first laid eyes on him. His mind had simply blue screened. Taking an embarrassingly long time to come back online. Back to the present.
But II was seemingly on a mission tonight. Keen on something that Ivy felt oblivious to. The little Omega had perched himself in Vessel's lap and curled up in his embrace like a spoiled cat. Nuzzling his mate’s neck. Drawing out the scent of the rain and sea. Drowning them in it in the process.
Vessel had done little more than bury his face in II's hair.
Completely silent.
There was no awkward tension in the air. But there was no flirting or teasing either. Only comfortable peace and something that Ivy couldn't quite discern hanging amongst them.
III follows Ivy in. Mumbling something about grabbing another drink. The cooler has been long since empty. But Ivy knows an excuse when he hears one.
"Vess has a hard time winding down," III explains as the patio's glass door clicks shut. "He gets caught up when we tour. Always feels like he needs to be doing something. We started this little tradition of ours as a way to help him relax when we're away."
"He seemed a bit off," Ivy muses with a slow nod. Making for the kitchen. Knowing III would follow him. "He and I talked some. He told me that he gets lost in his head sometimes. Wants me to pull him out of it, if I want that sort of thing. Which… I do."
"In any other circumstance, I'd tell you to try," III says with a small smile as he leans his back against the countertop. "But I think he just needs some time with II tonight."
"You can go be with them," Ivy tells him as he stands across from the other Alpha. III's eyes meet his own. There’s unspoken appreciation in his gaze. "Seriously, it's fine. I can entertain myself for the evening. Besides, it’s already late and you're supposed to teach me how to fish in the morning."
"And fish we will. But… you want to be a part of this pack," III reminds him with a finger wag for emphasis. "So, I'm going to key you in on a little secret."
Ivy's ears perk up. Interested. His Alpha rolls around happily inside of him. Seeing another in. Seeing the burgeoning trust between them. Growing steadier over time. Growing with more care. With something that makes Ivy’s heart ache with unabashed want.
His teeth ache as III offers him a cheeky smile.
"There are things that I can help Vess with that II can't," III explains. Pauses before he shrugs slightly. "And there are other things that only II can set straight. We have our strengths and weaknesses. I regulate the emotions, but the instincts...that's all II. Vessel's instinctual urges are far worse than yours or mine. When words aren't enough, II's Harmony is. But it doesn’t just soothe the storm." III's voice softens. His gaze faraway. Smitten. "II himself is essentially the calm for Vessel."
"But... you're their mate, too." Ivy says. Confused. Tilting his head to the side as III's eyes crinkle in the corners. Lips twitching upward. A stupidly pretty smile.
"I am," III says proudly. "II comes to me before Vess if he's struggling with an emotion he can't name. Or if he wants to be sweet. Shocking thing, that one.” III laughs while Ivy snorts. “Vessel comes to me for advice and a safe place to vent. And I go to Vessel if I need strength and encouragement. Or I go to II when I want to laugh. Or to endure some proper teasing until he caves and gets all soft and cuddly again. We all have our moments. The things were suited for. Best at. Instinct wise. And personality wise."
Ivy blinks. Surprised once more by the earnest and honest cadence of III's tone. The sheer adoration in the bassist's eyes as he speaks of the ones whom he loves. The yearning in his voice. As if he longs for them, even now. Even when he could simply exit the door and be with them.
Still, there is restraint.
There is space. There is a respect for boundaries. For strengths. For weaknesses. For knowing when not to butt in. For knowing when someone needed something that someone else was better suited to provide.
All hallmarks of a healthy pack.
Ivy's quiet appreciation of Vessel's leadership and structuring grows once more as III's words sink in.
"Vessel needs II tonight," III repeats as he stretches out his back. "Not because I'm not enough, or because he prefers II over me. But because he needs II’s Omega to soothe his Alpha. Needs that instinctual itch scratched. I can do that to an extent; I am his mate, after all. But...I’m an Alpha, too. I can't claim Vessel. I can't soothe him like II can.”
There is no jealously in III's words. Nor his eyes. Nor in his tone.
It is spoken as a simple fact. A lived in, experienced thing. Something that III has likely long since accepted and come to terms with.
"That doesn't make your bond with him any less," Ivy says regardless because it’s true in his eyes.
He realizes a beat later that he's answered a question for himself that he's had for a while now.
How he and III can benefit one another. Slot into each other's life when there were no tangible benefits between them due to their designations. No skin in the game for either of them. No territory at stake, or to claim.
But not every territory was physical.
Others were mental.
A Dominant who leads with confidence and respect rather than posturing and dictatorship. An Empath who emotionally supports a Dominant and their Omega both. A Harmonic who keeps tensions low and breathes life into them both when they need it the most.
Ivy thinks that he can see his place in it then.
Their pack.
A Guardian who recognizes danger and keeps them all safe. Who picks up on the changes around them. Who is willing to put himself in the way to pull them to safety even if it’s detrimental to himself. Who sees the value that they each bring to the table and chooses to foster those talents in a respectful, mindful way.
Who may not be the most well versed in relationships and their intricacies but remains a sturdy pillar of support for them all when they need him.
"I'm glad that you feel that way," III responds with an all too brilliant smile. Ivy's heart flutters in his chest. "I think I'm gonna unwind for the night. Maybe watch a film on the couch and accept my fate. Do you still want to join me?"
Ivy’s heart skips a beat. His eyes glimmer with mirth as he kicks off of the cabinets and boldly seizes the bassist's hand with his own, dragging him towards the living room.
But when they reach the room's entryway, both of them freeze.
Because even though II might have playfully kicked the bassist from his nest for the night, another nest is laid out before them. Thoughtfully crafted. Curated sheets draped over the sofa. Soft pillows placed with care along its back. Vessel's hoodie draped over an arm rest. III's blanket from the bus creating a half-canopy over the back and side. II's shirt is placed in the center. Ivy's own crewneck draped with care against the cushions.
Ivy's throat feels oddly tight.
"Gods, I love that man," III says through a dreamy sigh.
"II is..." Ivy trails off. Clears his throat.
"He's the best," III fills in for him. Saying words that they both wholeheartedly believe to be true.
Ivy nods. Kicks his shoes off as III does the same before they approach the carefully laid bedding. He halts before it. Breathing it all in. III squeezes his hand then slightly tugs on him. Ivy goes willingly. More than willingly. Spinning around on his heel. Short and fluffy dark locks falling further backward as he cranes his neck up. III leans in slowly. Eyes seeking permission.
Permission he finds in an instant. Ivy feels it in his own gaze.
Ivy's Alpha and III’s size one another up. Peculiar noises leaving their lips as they both lean into one another.
III's soft cheek brushes against the stubble on Ivy's own. Their necks slowly meet one another's until their scent glands touch. Ivy shivers. III shudders violently before giggling pleasantly in his ear. His deep voice reverberating.
There is no posturing between them. No need for dominance. Nor aggression. Two confident personalities meet on mutual ground. Staking mutual territory even if it is, physically, pointless to do so.
It feels anything but pointless to Ivy.
"I like smelling Vess and II on you," III grumbles as Ivy uses his free hand to draw the bassist closer.
"Well, now I'll smell like all of you." Ivy mumbles right back.
By the time that they collapse into the nest that II's formed for them, their limbs entangled in one another’s, their eyelids heavy from the travel and the day's events, they both fall asleep almost instantly.
The promise of a movie long since forgotten.
-
Ivy awakened that morning in utter bliss.
Arms wrapped around III. Face buried in his chest. Smelling like a combination of their scents. Wrapped up in the soft nest that II had so thoughtfully crafted for them. The morning had been lively but still peaceful. One spent on the dock where Ivy failed to catch a single fish while Vessel and III reeled them in like seasoned professionals.
And II… judged them. Every cast. Every catch. Every fish pulled from the water. The little Omega judged Ivy the hardest with every failed catch. But he also smiled the brightest as Ivy made a show of showing off non-existent fish in his hands. Playfully mocking III and Vessel’s various stances with nothing to show for his efforts. They had laughed so loudly in the end that III claimed that they scared off all the fish.
Now, they lounge in the lake itself.
Basking in the beauty of the day. In the quaint nature that surrounds them. The midday sun that hangs high above them. But the sun’s rays do little to warm the frigid water. Still, they're enjoying themselves all the same.
II breaks the surface with a soft gasp. His pale hair plastered to his forehead. His eyes blinking away droplets of water as he flashes Ivy a wide grin. Ivy returns it easily. Watches as II immediately wades across the lakebed and launches himself onto III’s back.
The bassist yelps from the surprise attack. Laughing something beautiful as II's limbs encircle him entirely. II climbs III like a tree. Muscular legs shifting. Strong arms holding his weight aloft. Ivy snickers to himself as he sinks further into the water.
"Carry me," II chirps against III's long neck. Grinning wickedly against the bassist's scent gland.
"Was nearly drowning Vessel too exhausting for you, babe?" III cackles. Doesn’t even stumble. Just shifts his weight to accommodate II's. III’s arms loop behind II's thighs and hold him close like it’s second nature.
It probably is, Ivy realizes.
Vessel treads water nearby, giggling from his own recent attack. Clearly in a state of contentment in spite of his breathlessness. All signs of the previous night’s bizarre quiet are gone now. Replaced by warm caramel-colored eyes. Wolfish grins. And confidence that Ivy thinks that he possesses, only to realize how complete and utter confidence actually looks thanks to the Dominant Alpha’s presence. Vessel's the definition of comfortable and at peace here. In his element. Surrounded by his pack. At ease in the water's embrace.
Until II kicks out with a foot and gently pushes Vessel backward.
"You little menace," Vessel coughs. Already laughing again as III pursues the Dominant Alpha with a chuckle and assists II in dunking their other mate once more.
Ivy floats at the edge of it all. Just watching them with a fond smile.
His muscles ache from the swim. His lungs heave from far too much laughing. And his heart aches, too. But it is a different kind of ache. Soft. Happy. Flourishing in the comfort afforded to him by the others. By his first proper getaway. By the gratitude for the money he has in his account. For the people he's met. For the experiences he's had.
For everything.
Still, like his mind, his eyes wonder.
He’s seen Vessel shirtless before. That’s nothing new. Still as gorgeous a sight as ever. But III is a complete surprise. Long, smooth lines of muscle that are normally hidden underneath his usual attire. Lithe, but defined. He’s strong. But quietly. Naturally. His personality and physicality aligned.
And II....
II is divine.
Alight from sunlight and smugness. Compact. Soft in some places. Muscular in others. Flat stomach. Slight curve on his hips and waist. Stunning. His scent is sweet even through the water. His throat bare. His scent gland on full display. Proud. His mates' baggy clothes had covered him before. But now, Ivy sees all of him. Unfiltered.
And Ivy knows that he’s fucked.
Absolutely, completely fucked.
Because he’s already fallen for all of it. For all of them. The lake. The house. The tour. The road. The music. The movies. The cuddling. The shared meals. The easy conversation. The affection. The mutual respect. The trust. The gifts. The laughter and the soft moments between the chaos.
He doesn’t want to leave their side. Not now. Not ever.
"Can you swim confidently?"
Ivy blinks himself out of his stupor. Just in time to see II's leering smile as he pokes his head up from behind III's grinning face.
"Yeah," Ivy answers with a head tilt and a grin. Not sure where the little Omega is going with this.
"Good," II says. Devilish. Then II slides down from III's back. Wades closer to him. Pauses. Smirks. Then launches himself onto Ivy's back with surprising speed and agility.
Ivy’s surprised by his own immediate sturdiness. How he doesn't fumble. Or do little more than catch II with his hands. Just as III had. Ivy’s callused fingers dig into II’s sinfully soft flesh and muscle. Drawing II in closer as the Omega snorts adorably and wraps his arms around Ivy's neck.
"Don't drown IV!" Vessel calls in between giggles as III joins the Dominant Alpha in lounging about in the brisk water. "We like this one, remember?"
Ivy smiles at the words. Words he hasn't heard since they all met at the cafe back in London.
He blushes as II leans in, the drummer’s flat stomach flush against him.
II's skin is unbelievably soft against his back. Warmth blossoms between them. Ivy can feel every curve of him. The ripple of his muscles. The way that he breathes. Their bare skin moving softly against one another's as II's chin rolls onto his collarbone and warm lips ghost over his cheek.
Ivy leans into the touch. Even when tiny fangs graze against the stubble on his cheeks. Even when II chuckles against his skin. Then, soft lips move to his ear. Brush against his earlobe. Forcing a violent, immediate shiver out of him.
"Don't drop me," II warns. A playful lilt in his voice. Something undeniably flirtatious. Something undeniably fond.
"You're safe with me," Ivy answers through a breathless smile as he tightens his hold on the Omega that he already hopelessly loves.
Notes:
III is so fun to write, I swear.
Thank you all again for the amazing support on this fic! I will be responding to all the comments on the previous chapter a little later this evening. <3
Chapter 7: Soundcheck
Notes:
Fucking. Download.
So many cute moments. What a delightful show! Anyway! I knew that that would happen. So, I had this ready to go. Edited it on the way to see some family. As you do, of course. Have this as a bonus for another amazing performance. The clips are too cute. They sound amazing. I'm so ready to see them in a few months. asdfghjkl
Also, remember how I said this fic would be like 50k words? Yeah, no. More like 100k, probably. I can't do short multi-chaptered fics. I have a serious problem. :,)
This isn't beta- read. If you find any errors, please forgive me! I tried my best. o7
Thank you all so, so, so much for the incredible support on this fic. I hope you all know how incredible it feels to have that kind of support on something. I'm so glad that so many of you are enjoying this fic. I've been having an absolute blast with it. <3
As always; enjoy, and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ivy's mind draws a blank as II slides on his crewneck.
It sits lower on II's lithe frame than it does on Ivy's muscular own. Not quite grazing the drummer's mid-thigh like III's and Vessel's clothes did. But close. II's pale legs are on full display. Shorts cut off well above his knee. Sitting where the other Alpha's clothes typically landed on II's smaller frame. Ivy swallows. Curses under his breath and averts his gaze as he adjusts his position on the patio. Sitting cross legged before the fire pit while III and Vessel playfully bully one another into the cabin behind them. In clear and desperate need for some alone time.
He knows what they’re going inside for.
It's obvious by the look in Vessel's eyes. Sinfully dark and simmering with warmth. It’s made even more obvious by the erection in III's red joggers as the singer crowds him closer to the door before pushing him inside with a laugh.
Ivy's cock twitches as the door slams shut behind them.
He's not jealous. But to say he wasn't pent up would be a bold-faced lie. It's been months since his last rut, but three years since he last had the pleasure of someone else writhing beneath him. It's borderline embarrassing, he thinks. How little it takes to get him worked up now.
"III's going to wake the neighbors," II snorts as he approaches. Kicking Ivy's hand out of his lap. The one that had moved to cover the outline of his cock where it presses against the fabric of his cargo pants. II raises an eyebrow at him but still lowers himself down.
Ivy's breath hitches as II perches himself in his lap. Positioned in such a way that he avoids contact with Ivy's groin entirely. But it allows the drummer to curl up into his arms all the same. Instinctively, Ivy cradles him.
Only barely remembers how to speak as he responds to II's comment.
"Think it's only us out here," Ivy laughs. The sound a bit awkward.
"Doesn't matter," II barks out. A devilish smile on his pretty lips. "III's a bit of a screamer."
Ivy blushes so hard that it physically hurts his cheeks. Something that II chuckles at before burying his face in Ivy's chest.
"Vessel's... good," II breathes out. The words quiet. Almost indiscernible.
Ivy's mouth falls open. Stays that way. All while II smirks against him.
"You're... not helping me out here," Ivy admits a moment later. Smiling in spite of himself as II chuckles softly and nuzzles into him. It's a heavenly sensation. To smell his soft and sweet scent. To feel his soft but muscular body beneath his hands. Ivy's teeth ache. But in spite of his desire, his Alpha is strangely quiet.
Proud.
He realizes a moment later it's because III and Vessel trusted him with their mate. Enough to leave II alone with him for a potentially prolonged period of time.
"I wasn't trying to," II tells him. His head lulling back. Pale blue eyes glimmering upward at Ivy. "Have you... changed your mind about any of this?"
"Not at all," Ivy answers immediately. Gaze softening as he tentatively brushes the hair out of II's eyes.
"I didn't think so," II muses. Smirks again. "Judging by that reaction."
"Vessel was right," Ivy laughs. Blush deepening. Staining his cheeks crimson. Amber and leather rise with the color on his skin. Engulfing II in his scent. "You are a proper menace."
"Guilty," II deadpans before he rolls his pretty eyes. "I've always been this way. Never gave a shit about what people expect from me. I won't deny that I haven't always enjoyed being an Omega, but I'm comfortable with who I am now. What I am."
"As you should be," Ivy concurs as he threads his fingers through II's hair. It's soft beneath his fingertips. A little frizzy from the shower's hot water and steam. Loose blond waves that cascade through his fingers like a waterfall. "You're amazing, you know that?"
II blushes as he closes his eyes. Leaning up and into Ivy's touch. When the little Omega purrs, Ivy cracks a genuine smile.
"Speaking of praise," II mumbles happily. "You're being very good right now."
Ivy's hand stills. His cock kicks. The lump in his throat that he tries to swallow refuses to budge.
II creaks open a single, smug eye.
"I'm... trying really hard not to fuck this up," Ivy admits a moment later. Breathless. II's scent is unbearably heady. His body feels like it's on fire.
II is so warm.
II shifts then. Slides forward. Ivy can't help the guttural moan that rips past his lips as II settles over him. Grazing his cock in a way that is entirely too pleasant. II leans up once more. Ivy leans down. His eyes screwed shut. Too embarrassed over the sound that just escaped his lips.
His Alpha goes haywire. Scent flaring. Emotions erratic. Desperate for a touch. For a taste. For the feeling of skin beneath his aching teeth. But Ivy remains still as II drags their foreheads together. Holding their faces like that. The little Omega's breath warm against his lips.
"I feel safe with you," II whispers softly. A confession that shuts down every other thought in Ivy's head as his Alpha preens. Something it has only ever done once before. Something it had only ever done for Vessel. "I like being around you."
“That..." he starts, then stops. Has to start over. “That means more to me than you probably realize.”
II hums. Doesn’t move. Just breathes against him. Still close enough to kiss, but not quite pushing it. Their mouths a mere breath apart. II's eyes remain closed. Trusting. Soft. Ivy tilts his head just a little, brushing the tip of his nose against II’s. It makes the Omega smile. Faint and fluttering. Ivy grins, too.
“I’ve never wanted to protect someone this badly,” Ivy admits. Quiet. Truthful. “Never felt like this with anyone. Not with relationships. Not with friends. Not with family. It’s… different with you. Everything feels different with you.”
II squirms again, and this time Ivy knows that he’s doing it on purpose. Just enough pressure. Just enough warmth. Enough to tempt him. Enough to tease at the cusp of pleasure. Enough to drive him wild. II tightens his grasp.
But Ivy doesn’t move. He lets the burn stay in his veins. Thrum beneath his skin. Pulsate with want.
“Not anyone else, huh?” II whispers breathily. "All those emotions, and you’re still being very good."
“You’re not making it easy,” Ivy huffs. Indignant. II’s laugh is soft and smug. Full of affection.
“That’s not my job,” II reminds him.
“I thought you said you felt safe with me.” Ivy quips back. Blows a warm puff of air against the Omega's parted lips only to see II's breath hitch.
“I do,” II says. Squeezing him tighter. Arms hanging around his neck. “That’s why I can tease you like this.”
That startles a laugh out of Ivy. Low. Breathy. Incredulous. He leans into II's touch more.
“You’re impossible,” he murmurs, and tucks II more securely into his arms. Satiating himself. Satiating his Alpha.
Satiating II as the little Omega purrs again.
From inside the cabin, a muffled scream of pleasure carries out of the cracked open windows. Filling the night air. Startling even the surrounding nature into silence.
They both freeze. Then giggle.
“I told you that III was a screamer,” II chuckles. All too proud of himself.
"Gods, you weren’t kidding.” Ivy laughs, but there's a flush on his cheeks. III's voice had no business being that pretty. That sweet. Everything that an Alpha's shouldn't be.
“I bet he’s already a mess,” II murmurs. His voice lilting with mischief. “Vessel knows how to push his buttons just right. It's one of his finer traits.”
“Please stop talking.” Ivy swallows hard. His face burns. His skin feels alight. His scent is heavier now. Lingering lowly below II's bright notes. Muddied by arousal and a desire that goes far beyond the desire for intimacy.
“Why?” II hums, tilting his head back to grin up at him. “You’re the one being all saintly. All quiet and respectful. It's... cute.”
“I’m suffering a bit here,” Ivy hisses under his breath. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even attempt to shift II off his lap. Just holds him tighter. Steadier.
“I know,” II sighs dramatically. Then softens. “But you’re being so polite. I like it.”
“You really trust me?” He asks. Needing to hear it again for himself. To settle his stirring Alpha. To steady himself. To reel in his wondering mind.
“Yeah, I really do.” II confirms simply.
And just like that, Ivy’s Alpha goes calm again. Not quiet from suppression, but from sheer satisfaction. Proud. Trusted. Contented. Holding the one it loved and fixated on from the very moment that their paths had crossed.
"I won't screw this up, II." Ivy promises him.
"I know you won't," II assures him. Running fingers through his hair before the little Omega leans in and rests his nose against Ivy's unmarked scent gland. Breathing him in. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," Ivy answers with a relaxed sigh.
"You're stupidly attractive," II begins. Catches Ivy off guard with his compliment. Steals his breath away. "Talented and nice, too. So, what made you stay single?"
"I'm glad you think so," Ivy laughs as he tightens his hold around II's back. "But I never met anyone that I wanted to be mine. Not until... I met you."
"I'm Vessel's," II says with a smirk. Lips grazing Ivy's neck. Tiny, sharp teeth raking across unmarked skin. "I'm III's, too."
"I know," Ivy breathes out. Teeth chattering from the sheer pleasure that II's torture brings him. "They're... good for you. Good to you."
"You'd be theirs," II whispers against him. Teeth scraping further along his scent gland. Ivy shudders violently beneath him.
"They'd be mine, too." Ivy counters. Feels it the moment that II's little breaths still in the Omega's chest. "So would you."
"We would be, yeah." II mumbles. Less confident now. Dazed, maybe. Reeling from Ivy's declaration.
"I'd like that," Ivy confesses as II sinks further against him. No longer teasing. Merely seeking his touch. His comfort. His embrace.
Ivy would give him everything he wanted and more. In that moment. In any other.
"I'd like that, too." II admits, turning his cheek. Hiding his face away in Ivy's neck.
"Is there anything else that you want to ask me?" Ivy questions as he raises a hand. Threads it back through II's hair. Holding him firmly in place.
Another moan cuts through the quiet. Neither of them bristle. Too caught up in each other.
"You're...fine with me wanting this kind of life, right?" II asks. His voice painfully quiet. "It's not what some people want or expect from me. But it's the life I chose. The life that we all did."
There's something wilted about the scent of lavender as it rolls off of him. Something sour in the spiced vanilla. Something rancid in the honey. An old wound, Ivy muses. Or perhaps a deep seeded fear. Subconscious. Or perhaps not. Ivy frowns as he gently rocks them back and forth.
It gives him no pleasure in spite of the way that their bodies move. But it is not pleasure that he seeks.
He only wants to comfort II.
"I support you and your decisions, II. Don't forget, I'm a musician, too. This lifestyle is all that I’ve ever wanted." Ivy tells him. His voice as serious as the grave. II does bristle then. But it is a sweet thing. Shocked. Then purring. Nuzzling into him. II lost entirely in the haze of instinct. Ivy smiles so wide that his gums ache. His jaw becomes sore. "Vessel told me you all would never take more from me than I wanted to give you. For me, it’s the same with you.”
"It’s just that… someone else loved me once," II admits through softened rumbles. His voice airy and faraway. His words twisted and sad. Recalled with lingering pain that melds into his scent. Souring it once more. "But he couldn't accept my autonomy. Didn't think it was right for me to always be away. From my home. From my nest. From safety. He loved me. I never doubted that. But he never listened to me."
"I'm listening," Ivy assures him. Putting the pieces together for himself. Painting a picture of Fore in his mind. He wants to kiss II's brow. But he doesn't. Only squeezes him tighter. "I'll always listen. All I want is for you to be safe and happy, remember?"
"My hero," II rumbles, but it is a teasing thing once more. Warm vanilla and lavender wash over him.
Ivy buries his face in II's soft hair. Spends the next hour beneath the stars. Beside the fire. Listening to II purr in his arms, and III's pretty moans as they echo throughout the forest that covers them.
There is warmth in his cheeks. Fire in his skin. But nothing but sheer pride in his mind. Love in his chest.
"Hey, Ivy?" II whispers after some time. Peeling backward in his arms. Ivy answers him silently. A raised eyebrow. His undivided attention.
II rewards him for it tenfold.
Hoists himself up and presses impossibly soft lips against Ivy's own. Silencing his mind. Tuning him out of all else but II. Ivy's lips move automatically. Applying soft pressure back against the little Omega's mouth as II sighs softly against him. Contented. Happy.
Ivy's never smelled a scent as strong as II's own as they slowly move against one another.
There is no heat in the kiss. It's a gentle thing. But it sets a fire in Ivy's mind all the same. Burns down every preconceived notion he has about relationships. About love. Rewires his brain until it understands that this is what love feels like. All-consuming fire that warms but never burns. Ivy never wants to let him go. Never wants to lose the feeling of their lips as they move together. But when II slowly peels back, he lets him.
"Thank you," II mumbles. Pale blue eyes half lidded. Cheeks flushed. Breathless.
Ivy pulls him back into his arms. Cradles him. Breathes him in. Presses a kiss to his brow. One that II purrs from and leans into.
"Thank you," Ivy returns as he smiles against the drummer's warm skin.
"After..." II trails off. Clears his throat. A bit embarrassed, Ivy thinks. Finds it painfully adorable. "After they're done, it’s time for us to sleep."
"That's fine," he assures him. Kissing his brow again. Not for any real reason. Simply because he can. Because II lets him. Because he wants to.
"We're going to bed," II clarifies. Pulling back and away from him. Blushing furiously. Still, there's a glint of determination in his eyes.
"I... don't follow," Ivy admits with an awkward laugh.
"Do you want to come to the nest or not?" II huffs. Cheeks turning a vibrant shade of red. Puffed up slightly by the drummer's intake of breath.
Ivy blinks.
"III and Vessel are fine with it. I... already asked them," II explains with a shrug. "Hands to yourself unless we say otherwise. You sleep beside III. I sleep between the two of them. Don't try to spoon Vessel. That's III's privilege for being a fucking giant and all."
He barks out a laugh at that. Delighted when II snorts in response.
"And if you laugh at my designs, you will sleep on the couch." II adds in. Rather seriously.
"I've no intention of doing that," Ivy muses through a wide and beaming grin. "II... I'm no expert on courting but isn't this...."
"The Final Boss of Courtship," II drones. Rolling his pretty eyes. "Vessel's such a nerd for putting it like that. Point is, we trust you. We like you. We feel comfortable with you. We want to see if we're compatible or not."
Ivy nods slowly. Processing. Heartbeat thundering away in his ears.
"I think we are," Ivy says. Honestly.
"I think we are, too." II concurs. Smiles a little.
The door to the back patio swings open. A very disheveled III pokes his head out not a moment later.
"Vessel left all of the windows open," III scoffs. Shaking his messy hair back and forth. "Fucking prick."
"You sounded great," II teases through a sly smirk. III's face turns a vibrant shade of red as he angrily looks back into the house and grumbles something to Vessel. The singer emerges then. His wolfish grin wide and more than apparently pleased. Ivy snorts as II carefully untangles himself from his lap and stands. Offering Ivy a hand up. A hand that he gladly accepts.
"Ready for bed, little love?" III hums as he holds open the door, inviting them in while Vessel extinguishes the dwindling fire. The house reeks of the smell of sex. Something that makes Ivy's Alpha stir once more. But II's hand is an effective grounding tool. Silencing his thoughts and desires almost as immediately as they crop up. Something Ivy allows instinctively.
Something entirely Harmonic, he recognizes.
"We are, yeah." II confirms with a nod. Including Ivy in his sentiment. Something that III beams at.
"Quick, Ivy," III begins as he ushers them further into the house. Vessel joining them not a moment afterward. Locking the door behind them. "What design do you think II's gone for here?"
"I have no idea," Ivy admits with a shrug. Knows his inexperience shows. But leans into it with a confident, teasing smile. "An igloo?"
"Don't get Ivy tossed to the couch before he's even spent his first night in the nest," Vessel giggles as he playfully nudges III in the arm. II scoffs but Ivy can see the amusement in the drummer's eyes all the same. Vessel's eyes meet Ivy's own. "Go get changed. Join us whenever you're ready."
A command. Dressed as an invitation.
Ivy feels a prickling sensation in his chest. Tempers amber and warm leather with a charming smile as he squeezes II's hand before releasing it. He makes quick work of rounding up his clothes. A simple black shirt and a pair of loose-fitting joggers. He changes in a blur in the nearby bathroom. Glaring daggers at his still hard cock before he decides to ignore it. As annoying a decision as that is. His Alpha whines within him. Desperate for release. But Ivy's own sense of eagerness overwrites the baseline extinct.
As he exits the bathroom and deposits his worn clothes in a nearby pile meant for the wash, he steels himself.
Reminds himself that he's trusted. That II trusts him. That they want him here.
That they want him.
With more confidence, Ivy swings open the creaked open bedroom door.
"A fort," Ivy says through a smile as III turns around and beams at him. A goofy lopsided thing.
"My fucking favorite," III quips happily. Pointing a thumb towards the structure. It's covered in linen. Sheets dangling from the canopy frame. Various items of clothing tucked purposefully around the edges. Lush pillows lining the foot and headboard. There's an entry way on either side. Cascading sheets arranged in such a way that they create a gap. One easily folded down when its intended occupants were safely inside.
Vessel and II aren't visible, but Ivy can smell them in the air. Hear their sleepy voices as they speak softly to one another. It's almost painful. How reverent Vessel sounds now as he whispers praises to his mate. His voice hardly carries. Drowned out by III's rustling of clothes as the bassist pulls on a new shirt. Ivy's eyes all the while watching the formation of sprawling love bites that litter the Empath's skin. But Ivy's ears pick up on one phrase above the noise.
Vessel’s voice. Directed at II.
”You're happy.”
Ivy smiles. Happy, too.
"Turn the lights down for me, yeah?" III asks as he peels back the hanging blanket. Sliding behind it not a moment later. Disappearing when Ivy's fingers pull down the dimmer switch.
Moonlight fills the room. Soft. Inviting.
He steels his nerves as he approaches III's side of the bed. A hand shoots outward. III's. Ivy takes it with his own. Climbs in after him. It's overwhelming. How soft everything is. Feels. How their scents hang so thickly in the air here. Swaddled by blankets. Covered from the outside world. Warm from their shared body heat. Ivy chews on his bottom lip as he lies down on his side. III lies on his back. II lies facing III. Vessel curled up behind him. Protective. Affectionately kissing the top of the drummer's head while II squints from the contact.
"I've...never been in a proper nest before," Ivy confesses. Keeps his voice level. Shows nothing of his embarrassment.
"You're the only person we've ever let in our nest," Vessel says. Words that Ivy balks at as his eyes meet the Dominant Alpha's own. Even in the low light, Ivy can see their beautiful hue. Soft. Radiant. Shining like boiled sugar. "You're respectful. Even when II misbehaves and teases you beyond reason."
"I do not," II grumbles. Glaring sideways at his mate.
"You were torturing Ivy, little love. Got him all worked up then laid on the emotional stuff pretty thick, didn’t you?" III chuckles. His deep voice reverberating as he reaches over Ivy and pulls down the fold in the blanket. Plunging them into comforting darkness. Moonlight still filters in through the gauzy canopy that's constructed above them. Bolstered by thick blankets. But not enough that it prevents the light from reaching them.
"It’s not my fault that he got hard," II gripes.
Ivy flushes. Clears his throat as III and Vessel laugh.
"You're very tempting, love. That's all," Vessel murmurs softly. Wolfish grin easily visible as he mouths at II's ear. The bed shakes as II shudders. "Ivy's an Alpha at the end of the day. An Alpha who not only wants to keep you safe, but cares about you. Of course he's too respectable to do anything about it. Even when you parade around in his clothes and tiny shorts."
"And sit in his lap," III adds on.
As III talks, Ivy sees Vessel’s gaze flick downward at II. Watching him. Tracking his comfort. Gauging his needs. His wants.
"Do you both want the couch tonight?" II hisses. Indignant. Ivy doesn't need to look to know that the little Omega is blushing furiously. But II doesn’t sound upset. Only playful. Ivy’s chest aches from the sound.
"No bossing me around right now, love. We have a guest here," Vessel returns easily. Fangs glinting in the light. His voice husky. Ivy finds it more unreasonably fucking attractive than he should. His cock aches. His skin warms. He wants. More than anything he wants. "Be good for me tonight, II."
II whines.
Ivy bites his bottom lip. Hard.
"Fucking hell, you two. Don't break Ivy," III chuckles before leaning over II. Ivy watches as he kisses the Dominant Alpha. Kisses II. Then III turns to him. Seeks his cheek out. Soft lips graze his skin. But Ivy wants.
A half growl, half whine escapes him. Silences the room as III's pretty eyes widen before fluttering half shut.
"You want a proper goodnight kiss?" III asks. Looks down at him seductively. Like it's all too easy for him. Like he wants in the same way that Ivy does. Ivy leans upward. Then freezes. Remembers II's words. His demands. Likely ones that came from Vessel himself.
No initiating contact.
III solves the problem for him.
Leans downward. Warm breath ghosting over Ivy's parted lips as he releases the bottom one out from underneath his fangs. Their eyes lock. Scents flaring. Amber tangling with cedarwood. Leather warmed by the flame.
III closes the distance.
Soft. His lips are unbelievably soft. Gentle. Caring. Hardly coaxing as they move slowly against Ivy's own. It's brief. Electric. Shouldn't feel half as good as kissing II had. But it does. Feels the same. Makes his heartbeat hammer in his ears. Pound away in his chest. Ivy doesn't want him to pull away.
III does anyway.
"Sleep well, Ivy." III mumbles against his lips.
"You, too." Ivy whispers back. Smiling against him. Cock painfully hard. Skin flushed. Hot. Warm. Wanting.
He closes his eyes. Breathes in the smell of their comfort. Let's the warmth of their bodies wash over him. Buries his face in the pillow behind him.
It smells like Vessel.
He falls asleep, grinning into the fabric beneath his cheeks. Ignoring the ache and yearning in his groin.
-
The next day flies by in a haze.
Board games on the dock. More unsuccessful fishing. More grilled food courtesy of III. Another night spent learning to simply be beside the three of them. II had kissed him once more. A simple goodnight peck. III had kissed him twice. Once in exchange for a bite of grilled chicken. Another in exchange for a sip of his tea.
Vessel's lips haven't met his yet. Only the pack leader's eyes. Ivy thinks that he sees approval in them.
Thinks that he never wants to see that change.
It's early on their final day when Ivy beams at his elder sister's face as it fills the screen of his phone.
"Ivy!" Alys greets with a brilliant smile. "How is my baby brother doing?"
It's easy. Slipping back into Welsh. His mother tongue. Spilling his guts to the one person who had always been his best friend.
"Edrych!" Ivy laughs as he flips the camera around to the one on the back of his phone. Showing his sister the glimmering lake as it shimmers in the early morning sunlight. Ducks swim along the rippling water. Trees sway in the light breeze. On the other end of the line, Alys gasps. "We're on a break right now. I’ve been staying here for the past few nights. But we're heading back tonight to get ready for a show in Dublin on Saturday."
"How fun!" Alys laughs. Overjoyed for him. Ivy smiles as he returns the camera to capture his own image. "How has the group you're touring with been treating you? I'm assuming well based on what you just showed me."
Ivy tells her everything.
About meeting them. The audition. His immediate imprinting. How Jack had mercilessly teased him. How wonderful everyone has been to him and continues to be. How he's pretty sure that he's head over heels in love with the people who sit behind him. How II made a nest for him on the couch on night one. Then he invited him into the pack's own. How it’s the best sleep that he's ever had. How III is quite the outdoorsman. How Vessel sang for them by the fire pit last night. How II's sassy personality in combination with his occasional softness did something beautifully painful to Ivy's heart.
The others watch him in the distance. Oblivious to his heartfelt words as he rambles away in a language that none of them quite understand.
Alys nods her head along. Laughing. Smiling. Radiating with joy on his behalf as his story comes to a close.
"People would be blessed to find half as much love as you have, Ivy." Alys tells him as she readjusts the collar of her work uniform. Smudged with grease. Just like the smidgen of the substance that stains her pale cheek. "I'm right proud of you, you know? For not giving up on your dream, even when you wanted to."
"I would have given up on it if not for you," Ivy reminds her. A bittersweet utterance. Because Alys had given up on her own dreams in order to support their family. The burden fell on her shoulders more than his as she was the eldest of the three of them. "I'm going to make it up to you one day. I promise you."
"You don't owe me anything, don't be silly." Alys argues with a dismissive wave of her hand. "By the way, mam was thinking of retiring here soon. Getting harder on her to do the work. The bosses have been on her ass since the productivity demand went up in January. I'm thinking of moving back home with them both real soon. Not just because of the money, but because...." Alys trails off, her smile growing wide as she stands up and pans the camera down.
Lays a hand over her belly. Her slightly swollen abdomen. Ivy's mouth falls open before a grin grows ever so slowly on his lips.
"You're pregnant," Ivy says, laughing happily when she shoots him a thumbs up and pats her stomach. "Fucking hell, Alys. Since when?"
"Found out a bit over a month ago," Alys explains as she adjusts the camera once more. "Gareth and I didn't want to tell anyone until we knew for certain. You're gonna be an uncle, Ivy! How proper scary is that?"
"What's scarier is that Evan will be one," Ivy laughs, thinking of their kid brother and how babies always cried around him. Alys cackles on the other end. "Congratulations, Alys. I'm happy for you."
"I knew you would be," Alys replies with a beaming smile. Her eyes crinkling in the corners. "I have to get back at it. The foreman will have my ass if I don't come back on time."
"Before you go," Ivy stops her. Clears his throat before he lowers his voice. Pointless as that is when he speaks in a tongue no one else around him knows. "How far behind is mam and tad on the house? I know that's why you're thinking about moving back home."
"Two months," Alys answers with a grimace. Sighing as she runs a hand over her slicked back ponytail. "I'm trying to come up with it. Gareth got a promotion recently and Evan's doing well enough in school that he can afford to take on a part time job. The bank won't stop calling. But that's nothing new."
"I have it," Ivy tells her. Watches as her face contorts into shock. "I was gonna send some to Evan and you, but we need to keep the house. It's almost paid for. We can't afford to lose it now. They only refinanced it because they had us. We owe it to them."
"Ivy...that's too much on your shoulders. You do enough," Alys replies with a genuine frown.
"It'll be fine," Ivy assures her as he loads his banking app and signs in. "I'm gonna wire it to you. Take care of the mortgage and I'll...try to secure some work over the summer. See if I can't get the car replaced, too. You're gonna need it to take my niece or nephew to and from daycare."
"Ivy..." Alys sighs. A stuttered, breathy thing. "Can't you just be happy and live your life? It's not your job to take care of everyone."
“Of course it is,” Ivy says gently, but there’s steel in his voice. “You all don’t get it, but it’s the instinct, sis. I have to take care of my own.”
"You and your instincts," Alys laughs. But it is a wet sound accompanied by tears. Tears she blinks away. Wipes at in a manner that avoids ruining her mascara and eyeliner. "Go be with your mates or whatever they are to you. I'll handle everything back home."
"Money is already on the way," Ivy hums as he types out enough to cover the two past mortgage payments. Wincing when it sends. But feeling relieved all the same.
"Fuck off," Alys groans but there's a shaky smile on her lips.
"Go back to work," Ivy chimes with a shake of his head. Laughing when his sister rolls her eyes at him, but thanks him anyway.
As the call ends, he stares outward at the lake. Ducks scatter. The breeze carries the sharp scent of early morning dew. Ivy breathes in deep, letting the ache behind his ribs settle. Reminds himself of the sacrifices made so that he can sit there now. Reminds himself of how he got there in the first place.
"You okay?"
III's voice pulls him from his reverie.
"I'm fine," Ivy answers automatically. Clutching his phone tighter as he stands from the edge of the dock. Turning to face the towering bassist as III cocks his head to the side. His long neck is on full display. Tank top hanging lowly on his chest. Ivy traces the lines of Vessel and II's claims with his eyes before he lets out a small sigh.
"You don't look fine," the Empath retorts. His voice calm. But his eyes glazed over with a seriousness that Ivy rarely sees reflected in them.
"It'll work itself out," Ivy explains with a shrug. "Family stuff, that's all."
"You don't have to talk about it," III tells him with a slow nod. "But you also don't have to do the whole I'm fine thing around us when you're bothered by something. We understand, Ivy."
"Just a habit," Ivy muses as he stuffs his phone in the pocket of his cargo pants. "Used to saying that. That's all."
"Well, get unused to it." III chimes with a wide smile before extending his hand outward in offering. Ivy stares at it for a moment. III's lithe fingers. Thinks about how warm his hands are. How well their fingers slot together. How desperate he is to carve out a place for himself in their lives where he will never be without that pleasant feeling. Ivy takes his hand not a moment later. Reveling silently in the comfort that washes over him. "We've got your back too, you know?"
"Yeah," Ivy says through a small, genuine upturn of his lips. Letting III lead him off the dock and back towards the deck where II and Vessel wait for them. Ready to depart. To return to the port and retrieve their bus. “I know."
"We've got two days to get settled in at the grounds before load-in," Vessel reminds them as they arrive at the deck. Ivy's eyes meet his once more. Caramel. Dark on the edges. Maybe even a bit more than fondness in them. "We have only a few more shows left then we're back home again."
"For now," II muses as he side eyes them all. A tad grumpy in the early morning hours. Deprived of his precious caffeine, having already run out of his case of energy drinks. "Tour circuit in August in the States. It should be a good time. Been awhile since we've been."
"You ever been to America before?" Vessel asks Ivy. Cocking a single eyebrow.
"Never," Ivy answers with a shrug. Bites back the painful reminder that he's never really been anywhere. Hopes that they don't notice.
But he knows that III notices everything anyway.
"You'll like it," Vessel says with a shrug of his own. Nonchalant. Seizing II's hand and walking towards the house not a moment later.
Ivy's lips fall open. Shock swirling in his mind. Heart hammering away behind his ribs. III squeezes his hand. Reminds him of his presence and grounds him all the same.
"You didn't seriously think that we were going to leave you behind, did you?" III chuckles. Leans down. Gives Ivy his first kiss of the morning.
It's painfully sweet.
Ivy watches him duck inside, slipping through the glass door of the house.
He turns to look out at the lake once more. Head tilted back to face the sun. Closes his eyes, and smiles at the open, endless blue.
Notes:
I will respond to comments left on the previous chapter a bit later this evening! I am seriously blown away by the lot of you. Thank you all so very much for the amazing support. Your comments literally make my day. I appreciate all of you. <3
Chapter 8: Houselights
Summary:
The big feels TM in this chapter. Character growth! Character growth! :D
Notes:
Hi, hi.
We're back to our regularly, irregular scheduled posting chaos! I'm not making promises anymore about when things will be posted. But just know it will always be early. I give up on a set schedule lol.
Thank you all so very much for the absolutely amazing support on this fic. Words cannot express my gratitude and appreciation. I'm having a ton of fun with this fic, and it makes me happy to know that so many of you are also enjoying it. Thank you, sincerely. <3
As always, this is not beta read. So, please pardon any errors you might encounter. I will do my best to catch them on another re-read!
Enjoy, and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The tour bus kicks up dust as it rolls over the freshly poured asphalt of the parking lot.
Ivy shifts on the sofa and glances out of the back window. Eyes wide as the open festival grounds come into view. Its massive stages are half-built. Vendor trucks line up like a migrating herd. Cables snake everywhere. Cases lie strewn about as far as the eye can see. Workers swarm like ants across scaffolding. Someone's hammering something into the floor of the nearest side stage. The loud thudding echoing across the bustling area
Pollen, grass, and diesel fuel sting Ivy’s nose as he steps off the bus.
“This is absolutely mad,” Ivy mutters, awe-struck. He's been a patron at festivals this size before. But he's never played at one before. Not even on a side stage. He can hardly believe that the largest stage, the one that looms in the distance, is the very one that they will play on in two days’ time.
"Always weird seeing it like this, but it takes a village to get everything put together." III lets out a low whistle as he exits behind him.
The remainder of the converging crew park behind the same fenced-off artist area that their tour bus sits in and climb out. Everyone’s stretching. Exhausted. Some clearly hungover. Others are stiff from the drive. II’s already kicked off his slides. Walking barefoot across the nearby field of freshly cut grass like he owns the place.
"Wait up, doll!" III laughs, easily covering the distance between them. Long legs. Long strides. “Don’t step on something!”
"Ivy," Vessel calls as he opens the bus's door. “I wanted a moment with you before we go off and explore.”
"Yeah, sure." Ivy answers as he glances at him.
He climbs back inside the bus. Follows Vessel to the table in the kitchenette and takes a seat. Vessel sits across from him and places his phone down. Turns the screen toward Ivy. It’s a freshly finalized document. A tour outline. At the bottom, a number.
£15,000
“I told management that we wanted you to join us for the North American leg,” Vessel says, voice even. “They agreed. You’d play live every night like you have been. Twenty dates. Everything covered. Just like always. This is the offer for the take home pay.”
Ivy’s throat closes. He blinks. It takes longer than it should for him to find the ability to speak.
"You’re offering me fifteen grand?” His voice is hoarse. Dry. Breaks halfway through his question.
“Yes,” Vessel replies. Calm. Certain. Dark eyes laser focused on Ivy's own. “If you want it.”
Ivy stares at the screen. The words might as well be written in gold.
Fifteen thousand pounds.
His first thought is about the family home. The remaining mortgage. He could nearly pay it off. Then he thinks of Alys. Her pregnancy. Her long shifts at the factory. The ancient car in her garage. He thinks of Evan. How he could buy him a better phone. Help him avoid working while he finishes his education. Thinks of his friends. How he could repay them for their kindness over the years. How he could cover Ieuan's half of the rent for a while. Allow his old friend a chance to save up enough to get to Brighton. To his long-distance girlfriend and her family.
It isn't a million pounds, but it might as well be to Ivy. To them.
He swallows thickly. Feels the hope spreading in his chest. Rushing through his veins. The change he could bring to their lives. To his own.
Vessel doesn’t rush him. Doesn’t push.
“I didn’t think that...” Ivy begins, then cuts himself off. Laughs a little. It’s not a happy sounding thing. “I didn’t think that anything like this would ever happen to me.”
“Well, it’s happening now,” Vessel says with a small smile. "You deserve this, Ivy."
"You don't understand how much this means to me," Ivy exhales. A small, trembling sound. His Alpha is oddly quiet. Ashamed, maybe. He looks down at his hands. They’re clenched in his lap.
Shaking.
"I can see how much it means to you," Vessel replies. Voice painfully soft. Deep and reverberating. Ivy watches as he rises from his chair and takes the seat next to him. Their thighs brush. Vessel's eyes wander. Fall on his hands and where they tremble in his lap.
Ivy breathes in deep. Bites back his shame. And... confesses. Everything. About his aging parents. About his younger brother and his studies. About his sister. Her baby, marriage, and sacrifices. About his friends and bandmates and how much he owes to them. Not monetarily, but out of love, respect, and principle.
Vessel listens in silence. Head tilted slightly. Nodding along occasionally to his words as they continue to spill forth.
Ivy reasons that he has III to thank. That it was his words that push him now. To spill his guts. To lift the weight. To stop pretending that everything was always fine.
It feels... good.
Liberating, to finally get it off of his chest. To have someone around who understands the weight that he bears. How heavily it weighs upon his shoulders. The guilt that gnaws and chews away at him when all he wants is to be happy.
“I’m not just saying yes because of the money,” Ivy says in the end. Voice raspy. Hands still shaking. Breaths an uneven, labored thing. “I’m saying yes because… I think that I belong here. I think I’m supposed to be with you. With all of you.”
Vessel watches him for a moment. Then nods.
"You are," Vessel confirms as he reaches out. Snakes his arm around Ivy's trembling shoulders.
Ivy all but collapses against him. Gasps softly when Vessel's other hand takes his own. Adept fingers run across his scent gland. It calms him. It shouldn't, his Alpha notes, but it does. Even if Ivy's Alpha struggles to process it, Vessel's is an experienced thing. Knows what it's capable of. Knows how easily it can reach out and silence the worst of his doubts. Still the shaking in his hands. The bouncing of his knees.
Silence all of it.
“Listen to me for a second,” Vessel says. “You don’t have to keep thinking that you have something to prove to us. You've done that already. Even if tomorrow, you decide that you want out of our courtship, you will still have a place here, IV. You've earned it. With talent. With respect. With friendship. And with your discretion. You don't have anything to be afraid of.”
Ivy doesn’t answer. His mouth is too dry to speak. He just leans into Vessel's chest. Buries his nose against the fabric of his jacket. Breathing him in. Letting himself be held.
"It's in my nature," Vessel continues as he leans down. Their heads resting against one another's. "To want to provide for those around me. Especially for my mates. I know it's in your nature, too. We're the same in that regard. III's the emotional caretaker type. But you and I? We have to fight for things for them to feel earned, don't we? It's in our nature."
Ivy lets out a small sigh at that. Nodding gently against him. Feels more seen and heard than he can ever recall feeling before. It's different than venting to his sister -someone else who shared in his pain. Vessel has no reason to lie to him. No reason to have a stake in the lives of those around Ivy who the singer doesn't know. His Alpha ducks its head in shame. But Vessel's responds with sincerity. With kindness. With saltwater and freshwater rain.
A beautiful contradiction.
"We take care of all of our families financially," Vessel explains and Ivy's lips fall open. His eyes stuck half lidded. His words caught in his throat in disbelief. "Whatever they need, we help them with. We're not the wealthiest, but we always have enough. We always make it work. And we never worry about one of our own going without."
Ivy swallows thickly. Clear his throat. But Vessel seemingly knows that he doesn't trust himself to speak and does it for him.
"We'd take care of yours, too. We will." Vessel assures him. Squeezes him tighter. Ivy nearly chokes on relief. "As a friend, or as our... mate, we'd do it either way. We take care of our own, Ivy."
Ivy shifts slightly at that. Pulls back just enough to look at him. To see the warmth and radiant kindness in Vessel's dark eyes. Ivy's heart is pounding. Thumping in his ears. His scent is thick with so many rife, entangled things. Gratitude. Want. Hope. Love.
He leans up. Slow. Searching.
Vessel catches the movement with his eyes. Tracking it. A breathy sound catches in Vessel's throat. But he doesn’t move forward. Not like Ivy wants him to. Instead, he brings their foreheads together. Presses gently. One hand cups the back of Ivy’s neck. His thumb brushes his jaw. Forcing him to shudder.
“Not right now,” Vessel whispers. His tone painfully soft. “Just let me hold you for a little while.”
Ivy stills. Swallows his pride. Stifles his instinct, just for a little while, and allows himself to give into Vessel's demand.
Allows himself to be held in the arms of someone, who for once in Ivy's life, wanted to take care of him.
"I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop," Ivy confesses. Whispers the words softly between them. Hates that he's showing weakness. Uncertainty. Everything that a strong, prideful Alpha shouldn't.
But there is no judgement coming from Vessel. Ivy only sees a brief flash of sorrow in his eyes.
So very close to his own.
"It took me a really long time to understand that I deserve good things," Vessel returns. Tightens his grip on his jaw. “You deserve them, too.”
Ivy's breath catches in his throat.
"Trust me, Ivy." Vessel continues. Words Ivy had asked of him once. Words that bring a small smile to Ivy's lips.
He doesn't need to tell Vessel that he already does. He knows that the other Alpha understands that as Ivy closes his eyes and leans into him. Their foreheads resting against one another's. Vessel's hands snake around his neck and face. And Ivy's own fingertips dance over Vessel's scent gland.
He traces the line of II's claim. Deep and small. Traces the line of III's scar. Equally deep and meaningful.
Ivy can't claim Vessel.
But he imagines where his bite would go anyway.
-
Vessel leaves Ivy's side when his hands have stopped shaking.
Off in search of II and III. Off with the knowledge that Ivy had permitted him to tell them his tale. His one and only request a simple thing.
"Tell them. They deserve to know. It's just that I... don't want to have to say it again."
Ivy sits at the table still. Sits in silence for a while with the knowledge that his name is now signed digitally on the contract. That the money is already as good as his. That even if he changes his mind about them -he never would-, that he still has something he's never had before. Not consistently.
The ability to assist not only himself, but those around them.
His hands tremble in Vessel's absence as he reaches for his phone. Dials Jack's number. Knows without a doubt that his bandmates will be together. As they always were at this hour. Gathering for drinks at Gethin's pub before they returned home to their partners.
"Ivy!" Jack greets him after the second ring. "You calling to tell us you finally got laid?"
"Fuck off," Ivy retorts with a snort that belies his anxiousness. "Called to tell you lot I took an offer for the North American leg. I'll be back in a few weeks. But come August, I'll be gone for a while."
A pause. A beat that stretches too long to be comfortable. Ivy licks his drying lips.
"That's great, mate." Owen chimes in. The sound of the pub filling the speakers as he talks. Ivy swallows thickly. Knows that tone. The mock excitement. And the bite of something else. Something almost bitter. No. Not almost. It is. It's entirely bitter. "You forgot we had an opening act booked in September; I take it."
Ivy blanches.
"Don't be doing that to him," Bryn's voice cuts through the background noise. "It's an opening act for fifty fuckin' people. He's headlining a tour with these guys for thousands. Going off to America and all. We can't expect him to say no to that."
Ivy breathes in deep. It's not an easy task. No. Not when it feels like the air has been punched from his lungs. The wind taken from his sails.
He thought that they'd be happy for him.
Maybe they were. Beneath it all. The slight resentment. The twinge of annoyance. Perhaps even the jealousy.
"We can get Aled to fill in for him," Jack suggests. Ivy can practically hear his shrug. Imagine the nonchalance in his stance. Jack would be the happiest for him. He always had been the better friend to him. To everyone. Always a solid guy all around. "Ivy, that's fucking huge. You're going to need to get a passport, mate! You had better bring back some souvenirs, too."
"Right," Ivy hums as he drums his twitching fingers against the tabletop. The rhythm is sloppy. II would likely roll his pretty eyes at it. "I'll... definitely do that. We'll work on demos when I get back. I've got to have a talk with Ieuan, too. Maybe we could all go out... like we used to."
"That sounds great, mate," Bryn concurs.
Owen grumbles something. Ivy doesn't quite hear it. But he knows it's nothing pleasant.
"I... have to go," Ivy stammers out an excuse. Hangs up the phone. Ears burning with shame. Phone clattering to the table as it slips from his shaking hands.
He just wanted to be happy. Wanted someone back home to be happy for him. Someone not obligated to by blood.
Wanted someone to think that maybe he did deserve this.
Because he didn't. He doesn't.
He forces himself off of the chair. Stuffs his phone in his pocket with clumsy fingers and grabs his leather coat. He slings it on and stuffs his feet into his boots before he hurriedly exits the bus. He lights a smoke as he meanders off into the distance. Lips perched around it as he breathes in deep. Exhales a cloud of smoke through his flaring nostrils. His worn leather coat feels stiff on his shoulders. Too tight. The cigarette smoke scratches his throat instead of settling him.
He catches the gradual shift in his own scent. Bitter and sharp like scorched earth. Burned leather. Crushed amber. Anger steeped in shame. Whatever expression he's wearing must be unpleasant. The few people he passes avert their eyes from his as he storms past. Ivy ignores them. Watches instead as crew members in the distance test the lighting rigs.
The side-stage alone stretches wide enough to swallow the pubs he'd come from whole.
The bigger one, the one that they'd take to... Ivy can't bear to finish that thought.
-
By the time he arrives back to the artist's lot, the sky is dark and full of distant starlight.
He has no time to dwell on his thoughts any longer. Finds it impossible to as II emerges from a gathered crowd of names and faces that Ivy's seen before but never met. II pads over to him, drowning in one of Vessel's hoodies, and immediately reaches for his hand.
"Come sit," II requests. Hand still aloft in invitation. Ivy knows he pulls a face. Doesn't want to be surrounded by strangers now. Let alone meet people he's been listening to for years. People he’d admired from afar. Put on pedestals he never thought that he’d reach. II's expression falls. But the drummer recovers quickly. Offers him a knowing smile. A wiggle of his callused fingertips. "Walk with me?"
"Yeah," Ivy breathes out and takes the offered hand. Squeezes II's smaller hand in his own as the little Omega guides him away from the crowd.
"I don't know what happened after Ve came to find us, but... " II trails off. Ivy smells the air around them. The wilted scent of flowers. Frowns as II looks up at him with widened eyes. "Tell me you're staying."
"I'm staying," Ivy tells him with a small smile. Delights when II's scent sweetens.
His Alpha roars to life in his chest. He takes the opportunity to spin II into his arms. Hug him from behind as he rests his chin atop II's crown of blond hair. It puts a strain on his neck. He's not much taller than II is, but II hunches downward. Makes it easier on him. The minor discomfort is worth it to hold II in his arms. To feel his purr as well as he can hear it. To feel love rush over him as he gently rocks them back and forth.
Ivy hopes that II feels the same.
"I'm glad," II mumbles then. Leans into him. Let’s himself be held and melts into the offered touch.
"My bandmates aren't as happy about it," Ivy admits with a bitter smile.
"They'll come around," II assures him. Squeezing Ivy's arms where they wrap around the drummer's smaller frame. "We got lucky, Ivy. Vess, III, and me. There are so many talented artists out there that never know a fraction of our success. Not because they don't deserve it. But because of happenstance. The right people who could make that happen for them not being there to see it."
Ivy nods slowly against him. Letting his words settle. Breathing him in. Harmony reaches out for him. Offers to soothe his wary mind.
His lingering guilt tells him that he shouldn't accept its offer. His Alpha bids him to take it anyway.
And so, he does.
Feels it wash over him like a warm breeze as II's scent coils in his nostrils. Steadies the shake in his hands. Calms the rapid beating of his heart.
III was right once more.
II's Harmony doesn't erase the emotional ache. But it entirely soothes the instinctual one. The wounded pride. The sourness of his scent. The thrum of his Alpha. The strain between his own desires and the decisions that he makes that are guided by instinct.
It might not be emotional clarity, but it soothes him all the same.
"Your band is good," II says and it brings a genuine smile to Ivy's lips. To know that II thinks that. Thinks that he is worthy. Only that fate hadn't been kind to him. Not up until this point, Ivy muses. "You'll take them far. You still can. Even when you're here. With us. Where you belong."
Ivy exhales slowly. Soft and shaky. The sound II makes in response, somewhere between a laugh and a purr, sparks something warm in his chest.
It feels like a sense of belonging.
"You're sweet when you're not teasing me," Ivy murmurs with a grin, lowering his head just enough to press a kiss to II’s temple. The drummer tilts his face upward with a smirk of his own. The unspoken invitation clear. Ivy doesn't hesitate. Their lips meet a moment later. Slow. Unhurried. Gentle, but so very grounding.
When they break part, II looks flushed but content. The little Omega rests his forehead against Ivy’s. Whispers into the space between them.
"You should go find Vessel,” II says after a beat. “He likes to stargaze when it’s quiet like this.”
Ivy nods slowly. Feels something tug at his chest. Gratitude. Curiosity. Love.
Definitely, love.
"Thanks, II," he says. And he means it.
For all of it.
-
Ivy finds Vessel seated on the grassy hill overlooking the lot. Just a little ways past the last row of vans and parked buses. Vessel’s hoodie is tossed beside him. His short brown locks shift gently in the night breeze. Moonlight pools in the hollows of his face. The Dominant Alpha doesn’t turn right away. But Ivy knows that Vessel senses his presence all the same. His scent carries on the breeze. Mingles with Vessel's own.
Amber drifting over the open sea.
“It might be a bit cliche,” Vessel murmurs, voice low but warm. "But spending time like this helps me get back into the headspace I need for touring. It takes more for me to come out of it. Takes II to do it, really. I'm sure that III told you."
"He did, yeah." Ivy confirms as he sinks down beside him. Close but not too close. “II told me that you like to stargaze, too.”
"They know me well," Vessel muses and tilts his head back. Smiles. Fangs glinting in the light.
Insects swarm around the parking lot's lamp posts. Buzzing and whistling in the air as they congregate. In the distance, faint laughter rings out from the gathered bands and crew. Ivy infers then that the faces of the others are known but well-kept secrets in the industry. Finds it charming and respectful. But he lets the thought go as soon as it forms as he returns his eyes to Vessel's striking face.
They sit in silence for a moment. The sky is clear tonight.
The stars feel closer than usual.
“III’s challenging another band's bassist to a grill-off tomorrow,” Vessel says after a beat. Grinning. “Apparently the guys said that he makes better ribs.”
"That's blasphemy," Ivy snorts. A genuine, happy snort. "III will win easily."
They both laugh then. A soft, and shared thing.
“II also met some tattoo artist who is touring with another band. Got him all inspired," Vessel muses. Still giggling. A sound that brings a wider smile to Ivy's lips. "The moment we're back home, he's going to book an appointment for himself with a local artist. III told me that his eyes lit up and he got all cute and smiley about it."
"II is always cute," Ivy breathes out. Nods his head fondly.
"My claim and III's," Vessel starts then breathes out slowly. "That's all that I asked him not to cover. I don't care about the rest. I just want him to be happy. I'm like you, in that sense."
"We're a lot alike," Ivy says as he watches him. Studies him. Heart full. Breath steady. Vessel turns toward him, expression soft. Eyes a delightful shade of caramel. Hair tossed slightly by the wind. Chiseled features softened by the warmth in his gaze. In his demeanor. "Funny thing, that. I didn't expect you and I to get along once you figured out how I felt about II."
"You didn't expect us to want you," Vessel says simply. Words that make Ivy's heartbeat quicken as the other Alpha offers him a small grin. "How could we not, really? Handsome. Funny. Kind. Good to II, and sweet to III. That's all it took for me. My... Alpha is loud about the things that it wants. Even louder about the people that it chooses. That I choose."
"I didn't expect anything," Ivy’s smile falters just slightly. Not from doubt, but from how deeply that settles over him. "I kept telling myself it was just another job. But... it was impossible to lie to myself. I'm glad that it turned out this way. The only other alternative would have been getting myself hurt in the long run."
Vessel shifts forward. Shimmying closer upon the grass. Ivy's Alpha blinks back to life. Stirred from its slumber, the effects of II's Harmony. Ivy tilts his head up. Holds it high. Maybe postures. It's hard to tell. Hard to gauge. Impossible to discern as Vessel looms over him. It's easy for Ivy to forget at times. How much bigger Vessel is than him.
Vessel’s gaze drops to Ivy’s mouth, then lifts again. Something unreadable, tender, glowing in his eyes.
Ivy's Alpha stands at a crossroads.
Back down. Relent. Submit.
Bristle. Growl. Dominate.
Ivy watches intently as Vessel's gaze falls once more. Landing on his slightly parted lips. Vessel sighs softly between them. His deep voice ringing in Ivy's ears. A single request. Soft spoken. Seeking. Not taking. Not domineering. Asking.
Pleading.
“May I?”
Ivy doesn't give him an answer. At least, not a verbal one. He leans forward. Tilts his head back. Chuffs. Then he presses his lips firmly against Vessel's pillow soft ones.
Their mouths meet like they’ve done it before in another life.
Like there’s been a space for this between them all along.
Vessel grunts softly against him. The contact lingering far longer than any kiss that Ivy's shared with II or III. Vessel's lips are criminally soft. Velveteen. Skilled. Deft. Ivy adds more pressure. Smiles into the kiss as Vessel's sharp teeth poke through their joined lips. Brush against his own. It is then that Vessel surprises him. Takes the edge. The lead. Pries Ivy's lips open with a well-rehearsed move that forces a gasp out of him before he can stifle it.
Vessel tastes heavenly on his tongue as Ivy's own dances against the singer's. A slow, deliberate fight for control. Neither in a race to finish. Taking pleasure in testing the waters. In testing out each other. Taking in the sensations and swallowing them between the grazing of tongues and teeth. Ivy feels heat simmer in his stomach. Feels his cock twitch hard, as Vessel openly moans against his mouth then smirks against him. Ivy's own stillness then surprises him. Catches him and his Alpha off guard.
A hand coils around the back of his neck. Lithe fingers dance across his scent gland. And Ivy feels a sense of pure calm wash over him as Vessel seizes his momentary abatement and takes control of the dancing of their tongues. Ivy moans then. The noise low and grumbling. Muted by Vessel swallowing the sound. His body feels alight. His senses heightened. His Alpha paces within him. Processing. Coming to terms with things. But Ivy himself feels something else entirely. Something beyond the pleasure. Something beyond the want.
He feels it for certain then.
Vessel's mark of approval.
Proof that he did belong.
When they part, Ivy’s heart races. No longer with nerves, but rather with clarity. Vessel rests their foreheads together. Their breath mingling. Their scents entwined. Vessel's fingers dig into his scent gland. Trace lines that don't exist. Ivy thinks of how he had done the same to the singer's neck in the hours prior. Imagining new scars. New claim.
“I just want you to be mine. Ours.” Vessel whispers. Steals Ivy's breath away. "I can't get you out of my head. I know you're good for me. For us, Ivy. You love them. I can see it in your eyes when you look at them. Smell it in your scent. Hear it in your voice. You don't have to make complete and total sacrifices to be here with us. You can have it all, Ivy. You deserve it. You really do. So, let me give that to you."
Ivy shivers. Growls. Mind racing. Blood pumping. Unsure. Uncertain. Overwhelmed. In love. Happy.
Scared, he realizes.
Since when did he become so afraid of everything?
Since meeting them. Meeting II. The thought of losing this, of losing them, petrifies him. He wants nothing more than this. Wants to feel their lips against his own. Wants to feel their skin beneath his fingertips. Their warmth in his bones. Their scents seeped into his skin like an expensive cologne.
He wants II to dress in his clothes. To sass him and the others. To sit in his lap. To perch on his back when he works out. To hold him in his arms. To keep him loved. To keep him safe. To make sure that he’s happy. To wear matching necklaces with him. To shower him in gifts. To merely behold him. To watch him fulfill his dream and his desires. To tour the world. To share his passion. His talent. His art. To be by his side throughout everything. Every moment.
He wants III to teach him all of the things that he's never had the chance to learn before. The things he's never had time for. Wants to hear the bassist's off-key singing as he prepares their meals. Wants to see his pretty smile as he laughs and cracks jokes alongside them. Wants to feel his warm hands and the way that they engulf his own. Wants to sleep beside him again. Wrapped up in the nest that II makes for them. The one that smells like them. That one that already feels like home.
He wants Vessel. He wants to feel those pretty teeth sink into his skin. He wants to hear his smooth as satin voice in his ear. To hear him sing softly as they lie down in bed together. To hear the pounding of his heart. To feel his muscles beneath his fingertips. To temper the instincts inside of him. To pull him out of his pretty head and ugly thoughts. To breathe in the literal salt of the earth. To exist within his orbit.
He's never let go of anything before. He's never been afforded the chance to. Always been saddled with responsibility even if his sister bore the heaviest of the weight.
The choice isn't an easy one.
The ones worth making never are.
Ivy breathes in deep. Holds it there. Let’s it go slowly. Painfully.
Hopefully.
"I'd like that," he whispers as he raises a hand. Places it over Vessel's scent gland. Drowns himself in the rushing scent of water. Smiles beneath the waves. "I want that. You. Them. All of this. Everything."
Vessel doesn't answer him. Not with words.
Ivy laughs against Vessel's lips.
Thinks to himself that it's only fair that the singer takes a page out of Ivy's own book and answers him with actions.
-
Sacrifices.
Ivy has never really asked himself before what he'd be willing to give up in exchange for what he wants the most.
He thought that he had. Back home. Giving up on stable, factory work in pursuit of a career as a musician. Giving up on a proper education to spend his nights performing in underground venues. Stuffing himself into recording booths for other people's dreams. Sleeping on couches when he was too ashamed to return home broke and empty handed. Choosing between paying for his utilities or putting food in his fridge. In his stomach.
All he sees around him now is sacrifice. Small acts of it. Larger acts of it, too.
III video calling his grandmother who lives in a care home that he helps pay for. Vessel sitting with II perched in his lap. The Dominant Alpha's hands slowly rubbing at the flatness of II's stomach. His gaze filled with longing. His nose buried in II's scent gland. II's eyes closed as he leans back against his mate. Affording Vessel a moment to want for something that neither they, nor III, was willing to give.
The things they chose. The distance that they put between themselves and the ones they loved. All for the sake of this life.
For the sake of each other.
Their sacrifices are not small things. No lesser than Ivy's own. But they do not hide away from them. Openly bear their wants to the world. Openly mourn the things that they miss. Embracing the loss. Embracing the gains that the loss provides for them.
He will not return to his apartment with Ieuan for long, Ivy decides. He will offer to break the lease for them both. Remove his things from its barren walls. Help Ieuan reach his girlfriend and the life that he longs for. He'll record for his band. For himself, and for them. Project himself out into the world. Share their art with anyone who will listen. Be it five people. Or be it thousands.
He'll pay off his parents’ house one day. Shower his niece or nephew with love and gifts. Help his sister take time off from work to be with her husband and child. Get his kid brother, Evan, some new clothes and devices. Set him up for success in a way that no one could have done for Alys and him.
They, too, are small acts of sacrifice.
They are not made any lesser by what he stands to gain.
"Grams says hi everyone," III proclaims proudly. Smile on his lips. Fondness in his eyes as he takes a seat beside Ivy. Leans against him like it's nothing. Casual in his touches. Casual in his affection. Ivy melts into his side. Breathes him in. His scent. His warmth. His light. "She's crushing it at bingo, by the way."
"That's where III gets his competitive side," II snorts with a smile. His eyes still screwed shut as Vessel's fingers dig in slightly. Pressing against the thin fabric of the drummer's tight fitting black shirt. Tenderly. Lovingly. Mournfully.
They all see it, but no one says a word. Only respond to II’s commentary.
Ivy cracks a grin. Nods against III's shoulder as the bassist chuckles.
"I'm going to win tomorrow, little love. You might not get to be a judge, but I'll make some ribs for you, too." III offers with a laugh. A gloriously happy thing. Ivy doesn't hesitate then. Turns his head to the side. Presses a kiss to III's heaving shoulder. The other Alpha flops his head playfully against Ivy’s. Accidentally knocks them together. Something that they both share a hearty laugh at as Vessel finally rejoins them. Breaking free from his silent reverie.
"II, can you make the side dishes?" Vessel inquires, mouthing at the little Omega's neck.
"Can you stop making me into one first?" II grumbles. Scrunches up his adorable nose in feigned distaste as Vessel snickers against him. Nibbling on his skin for show. Saturating the air with II's scent. Lavender fills the air, but it is pleasant. Warm honey. Vanilla and spices swirling and aromatic.
"Only a side dish?” Vessel refutes with a snort. “You're the real main course."
II flushes vibrantly. Glares daggers at nothing in particular. Huffs. But there’s a smile on his lips all the same.
Happy, Ivy recognizes instantly. He would know that feeling anywhere. Could sense it even if he lost his ability to see, hear, smell, and feel.
His Alpha settles down within him, slumbering quietly, as Ivy sinks further into III's side. He lets the combined efforts of their presence wash away the remainder of his doubts.
Home, he thinks.
This is where he belongs now. This is what he deserves.
Notes:
I'm so proud of the boy :,)
Chapter 9: Headliner
Summary:
Busy, busy, busy chapter. Light Angst. Big instincts. Big feels. Big words. Smile.
Notes:
I'm laid up sick. Have the entire weekend off. I've got tea. Cold medicine, and it's been storming non-stop. It isn't the most comfy, being sick sucks, but the writing time? Unmatched. I may even get another chapter done this weekend, who knows. No apologies here.
Thank you all so, so, so much for the amazing support on this fic! Almost 300 kudos in just a few weeks is incredible. You all are so very kind, and so supportive. T-T I love this community, genuinely. <3
Not beta-read. I have head fog, too. So, if there's errors, please blame my sick brain and forgive me lol.
(I've been thinking recently that I might want to work with someone else and have a co-author for the next big fic that I do down the line. It's fun alone, but the bouncing around of ideas in my own head could be upgraded. Editing, too. I'd love to have input and the back and forth sounds pretty fun.)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The venue's artist parking lot buzzes with energy under the fading sunlight.
Vans and tour buses crowd the fresh asphalt, various logos and emblems gleaming in the sun's rays. There's the constant low hum of engines idling. The occasional rattle of opening doors. The scrape of gear cases as they're wheeled over the pavement. Nearby, clusters of various crew and band members gather in loose circles. Their voices low but spirited. Laughter bubbling. Glasses clinking.
The air is thick with a blend of scents. Smoke from the grills. Sweat mingled with expensive cologne. The occasional scent of a passerby Alpha, and the even rarer scent of a wandering Omega. The evening air is cool. A gentle breeze weaves through the rows of vehicles. Lights strung between lamp posts cast a soft golden glow over the scene alongside the setting sun. The combined light casts long, wavering shadows that dance in time with the music that thumps from the nearby sound system.
Ivy finds himself amidst the crowd. A cigarette perched between his lips. A hat sits over his short but groomed dark hair. The hood from his sweatshirt layered on top of it. Vessel and II work on their nearby pull-out table. Vessel arranging various disposable plates and utensils. While II occasionally dips back into the bus. Emerging seconds later with more steaming trays of food that he's somehow managed to make in their bus's tiny kitchenette.
"Smells delicious, II," Ivy mumbles around his smoke as II passes him again.
The little Omega looks up at him. Crinkling his nose. Adorable.
"You're lucky that I think smoke and leather smell good together." II muses, gripping his tray tighter. Ivy huffs out a laugh, and nods his head.
"I'd stop if you didn't," Ivy assures him as he ashes his cigarette.
"It's a bad habit," II says with a simple shrug. "Your choice, though."
Choices.
Ivy likes that about them. Likes being able to make them even in a pre-established setting. One with rules and expectations. Respect for each other's wishes and respect for each other in general.
"Maybe before August," Ivy ponders as II looks him up and down. Pretty eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Pale blue oceans that Ivy would willingly drown in. II's scent softens. Curls in his nose in tandem with the scent of the grill smoke and II's own cooking.
"Go check on III," II says with a nod of his head. Directing him to listen.
Ivy does so willingly as II hurries to their table. Back to Vessel's side. He catches them mumbling something soft to one another. Misses the words but infers through the tone that it's something important. He doesn't let his mind wander on it. Doesn't let it make him spiral as he approaches III, who offers him a lopsided grin.
"Almost done," III says proudly as he glazes the various racks of ribs one more time. Then closes the grill afterward.
"You've got this," Ivy says confidently. Eyes crinkling in the corners as he takes one last drag from his smoke before stomping it out with his boots. He picks up the remains and chucks them in the nearby bin as III retrieves the tongs and playfully snaps them together towards him.
"Give me a kiss for good luck?" III asks with a beaming smile. Lowering himself down as Ivy snorts and steps forward. There's confidence in his movements now. He reaches for him. Brushes III’s wild, windblown hair back. Drags their faces together before he closes the distance between them.
He kisses III, but it is not the gentle thing that it once was.
Their lips part. Their tongues meet for the first time. Exchanging movements against one another as he drinks in III's appreciative groan. The sound goes straight to Ivy’s cock. Makes heat pool in his stomach. Steals his breath away. His heartbeat quickens as III's tongue pushes against his in a long, deliberate drag. Someone whistles in the distance. Someone else claps. Cheers. Ivy laughs and allows III to stand upright once more. The bassist playfully flips off the crowd around them in response.
Ivy chuckles as III returns his attention to the food.
His phone vibrates in his pocket not a moment later. A simple text. One from Ieuan.
Ieuan: Talked to Owen. Look, I know you’re still covering your half of the rent, but you don’t need my help anymore. Sarah’s getting me a ticket to hers. The landlord said we could go anyway since he wants the place back to overcharge some other sorry bloke. I told Alys to come get your stuff. This place can’t be your storage unit while you’re off playing rockstar. And I have no reason to stay either.
Ivy's finger hovers above the call option. His hands shake. Filled with rage. Scent sour. Teeth gritted as he curses and spits on the warm asphalt. His trembling fingers fly over the keys as he searches for another name in his contacts. He hits Call as he storms off.
"I was just about to give you a ring," Alys sighs into the phone. Ivy grumbles low, reaching for another cigarette. He lights it with tension in his shoulders as his sister's voice fills his ear. "Ieuan's being a spoiled cunt. And Owen? Such a twat. Never fucking liked that guy. Don’t let those two ruin your fun, Ivy. I'm on my way to get your shit and take it to mam and tad's. Jack is picking Evan up and meeting Gareth and me there to help."
“What the fuck happened?” Ivy growls, switching into his mother tongue. Half-instinct. Half-emotion. Vaguely, he can feel eyes on him. Knows it's II. Knows it's Vessel. III. He lets his feet carry him further away. Silently praying that they don't find themselves caught up in the vacuum that engulfs him. Sucks away his fleeting joy. His momentary peace of mind that believed that everything could, and would be, fine.
"Jealousy, Ivy. You know what," Gareth chimes in. The phone clearly on speaker. "Fuck those guys. Alys tells me you're doing great for yourself. Don't let this shit get to you. We'll handle it."
"You shouldn't have to," Ivy grits out. Hands shaking. Teeth chattering around his smoke. "Ieuan couldn't fucking wait until I got back? Do you have any idea how it feels knowing that what little I own is going to be stuffed inside my childhood bedroom when I'm away from home? That I’m losing my fucking flat?"
"You have every right to be angry," Alys says evenly. "You want my honest to god's advice, Ivy? Don't come back here to this shithole. You looked alive the other day. You're in love and chasing your dreams. Stay the hell away from this place. It'll keep you trapped here forever if you let it."
Ivy stops on the pavement, eyes stinging as he growls again. Cigarette smoke filters out of his nostrils. His heartbeat slams into his rib cage.
He can still taste III on his tongue.
He clenches his fists. Lets them go slack a moment later.
"Leave this to us," Alys's voice chimes back in. Stirs him from his stupor. Calms something in him as he breathes in deep around his dangling cigarette before exhaling. "Go have fun. Please."
“I love you,” Ivy sighs, nodding. Even if she can’t see it. "Thank you, Alys."
"Love you, too." Alys answers. Ivy can hear her smile even then. "I'm proud of you."
The line clicks dead a moment later. White noise hums in his ears. Laughter and cheers rise in the distance.
A hand on his pulls him from his reverie.
Soft. Warm. Smaller than his own. Callused in places. Smooth in others.
"II," Ivy breathes out like a prayer. Lets his cigarette drop to the pavement as he spins around on his heels. II smiles softly at him.
"Time to eat," II hums as he steps forward. Drags Ivy's head down with his free hand. Rests their foreheads together. "Everything okay?"
"My flatmate is taking off. My sister is going to get my shit and take it to my parent’s house, at least." Ivy snorts. It's not a happy sounding thing. II frowns in response. Scent curling. A silent invitation. Ivy takes it instinctively. "This fucking sucks. Why can't they just be happy for me?"
"I don't know," II answers honestly. Holds him tighter. Rocks them back and forth in motions akin to a gentle wave. Ivy sways against him. Eyes closed. Lips drawn tight. "I wish that I had the answers. I'm not sure why people do the things that they do. I’m sorry. You deserve better than that."
Ivy exhales slowly. Shifts his head. Kisses II's brow like it's second nature.
It is now.
“Enough talking about this for now. Come on,” Ivy says, turning his head stiffly as he slides his phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt. "I've been dying to taste your food. And those ribs. III's been working his magic on them all afternoon."
"We already know that he's going to win this stupid dick measuring contest," II chuckles softly. Kisses Ivy's cheek. Warm breath ghosting over the stubble on his skin. II's hand tugs on his own. Beckoning him forward.
Ivy follows after him without a moment’s hesitation.
Alys’s words still ring in his ears.
But Ivy doesn’t want to return to Cardiff. To home.
Even if he has no home to return to.
No home but the one he’s made for himself. Here. In their arms.
-
III wins the grill-off by a landslide.
But it is II who walks away the real star of the show.
The little Omega’s prepared side dishes are completely devoured. Empty trays line their table. Empty plates dot the venue's grounds.
Ivy's so full it hurts to move when II proudly perches himself in his lap. Smiling softly. Cheeks flushed from the constant praise. An air of contentment surrounds him. Sweetens his scent. Wafts it freely in the air as the various other crews and bands continue to interact with one another. Vessel sits alongside an equally triumphant III. Kissing the bassist's grinning cheeks and giggling over something he says as they chat with another group.
"You're not just decent at cooking," Ivy mumbles softly as he wraps his arms around II. Drags him further into his lap. His head resting on II's shoulder as the little Omega slouches against him. The brim of Ivy's hat brushes against his forehead. Makes the drummer squint as Ivy chuckles. "You're a proper little chef."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," II purrs against him. Playful. Alight with contentment. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"Already back to teasing me?" Ivy laughs. Moves his head to the side in such a way he can kiss II's reddening cheek without hitting him with his hat. II grumbles. Something instinctual. Happy. Something that makes his smaller body shiver against Ivy's own. Something that sends blood rushing to Ivy's cock where it lies trapped in his cargo pants. II's ass presses against him more. A wicked flash of something flaring in the little Omega's eyes.
Ivy's pupils dilate.
No one notices them. Caught up in their own conversations. But Ivy stills II’s movements all the same. Growls something protective. Steadies his squirming body. Something that II giggles at.
"I love getting you worked up," II admits freely. Tiny fangs poking out from behind his pretty, pink lips. "Why'd you stop me?"
"Don't want anyone else seeing you like this," Ivy grumbles into the shell of II's ear. Holding him tighter. Preventing him from trembling. Ivy feels the motion try its best to ripple throughout the drummer's body all the same. "You love getting under my skin, and I like it when you’re close like this. But if someone besides III or Vessel see this?"
He pauses, flicking his tongue over his aching teeth. Let's his warning hang in the air. II bites his bottom lip.
Ivy hears his quiet, muffled moan all the same.
His cock kicks in his pants. He knows II can feel it fully then. Pressed against the curve of the little Omega's ass. Ivy chuckles deeply into II's ear. Smirks against the sensitive skin there. Teasing him right back.
"Don’t make me fight someone, yeah?" Ivy grumbles low.
"Fuck," II bites out. Voice painfully soft. Scent overwhelmingly sweet. Ivy knows what that means. Has taken home enough Omegas in his past to recognize that particular shift in their scent.
"Who's the one getting all worked up now, little love?" Ivy whispers huskily. Delights in II's abrupt shudder. One that his arms can't stifle. Can’t contain. II hops off his lap in an instant. Face blood red. Glaring daggers at him. But there's mirth in his eyes. A smile pulling on his lips as he angrily pads off towards III. Ivy laughs heartily as II pries Vessel off of the bassist before dragging III toward the bus.
When the door slams shut behind them, Ivy looks to Vessel and shrugs.
Vessel laughs. Deep voice cutting through the sound of the gathered crowd.
Ivy grins and stands, stretching as he goes to join him.
"Three Alphas, one Omega? I think I watched that flick last night."
The voice is slurred. Too loud. It’s not a joke. No one laughs. It's merely a crude sneer. Ivy doesn't miss the way that the guy’s eyes flick toward the bus door like it’s a fucking peep show.
The smile immediately slides off of Ivy's lips. A snarl forming before he can even register the change. Ivy doesn’t recognize the man by name, but the lanyard swinging from his neck gives him away. Local crew. Unaffiliated with those present. The kind that lingers too long. Makes themselves too known. Hangs around when they shouldn't. One smell tells him all that he needs to know. A Beta. Out of shape. Reeks of cheap beer and cigarette smoke. Maybe he’s been drinking since the workday ended. Maybe he’s always been an arse.
It doesn’t matter.
His Alpha bristles. Roars to life within him. Doesn't care about the guy's circumstances. But there is something else at play.
Something bigger. Menacing. Meaner. Heavier. Like a storm rolling in. Something that sucks the oxygen out of the air. That drowns the grounds in torrential rain in spite of the clear night sky. A warning shot from nature itself.
The noise that Vessel makes... Ivy's never heard something like it before.
Primal. Raw. Deep. Powerful.
Stop him, his Alpha dictates. Adrenaline courses through his veins in an instant.
He catches Vessel's muscular arm with his hand as the Dominant Alpha goes to storm past him. Vessel's strength is terrifying. He nearly knocks Ivy off his feet. But instincts are a two way street. Ivy's Alpha is not meek. It never has been. It's reactive. It's grounding. It's defensive.
It's strong, too.
"Not worth it," Ivy growls. Low and primal. Digs his heels into the pavement. Skids backward a step before caging Vessel in. Grabbing both of his arms. Looking dead into his wild eyes. Vessel's pupils are completely shot. Devoid of all light. Not brown. Or caramel. Pitch black. Vessel's lips are peeled back into a snarl. Sharp white teeth on full display. Scent potent enough that even the Betas who make up a majority of the crowd are stunned into silence. Uncomfortable. Wary. Actively backing away and avoiding him.
Ivy can hear the sound of another band furiously telling the drunken crew member to fuck off. Removing the threat for him.
Ivy's never turned his back on a perceived threat before. But he does so now. Choosing Vessel's safety over his own.
The sound that Vessel makes is hardly human. Pure instinct. A wild, feral thing that accompanies a gnashing of teeth. Venomous. Enraged. Body trembling with fury. Sour scent punctuating the air. Drowning out the scent of all else. Even the wind seems oddly still.
"Don't," Ivy warns him. Tightens his grip as Vessel tries to pry him off. Vessel is absurdly powerful. Ivy remembers all too well how easily he had overpowered him in the alleyway back when they had their first private talk. The talk about II. About them. About what this could be between them. Ivy grounds himself. Lets his Alpha take full control. Trusts it. Trusts himself. Remembers Vessel's want. His desires. His need for Ivy's presence.
III couldn't stop Vessel like this. Not physically. II's instinctual Harmony would hardly be enough.
Vessel needs this.
Needs him.
Ivy grits his teeth. Bares his fangs. Stands on his toes and postures right back at the towering Dominant Alpha.
"Walk it off," Ivy commands him. Enraged himself. Wanting nothing more than to put his fist through the offender's face. But his Alpha has already chosen its course of action. And Ivy has already accepted it. His task outweighs his wants.
His task of defending them and keeping them all safe from harm.
Even the harm that they invite upon themselves.
"Vessel," Ivy growls once more. Blue eyes dilating into black. Scent rising between them. Instinctual sounds filling the otherwise silent air. Ivy's hands shake as they push Vessel back. "Walk. It. Off."
Vessel snarls. Growls. Spits angrily on the pavement. And... listens.
Backs down. Furiously taking off in the opposite direction as Ivy turns on his heel and points to the drunken tech who's being escorted away.
"You're fucking lucky," Ivy howls after him. "I’ll beat the shit out of the next person who badmouths our Omega."
He doesn't question why the words roll off of his tongue with ease. Only spits on the ground to mimic Vessel before hurriedly running after him.
When he catches up to him, Vessel is practically vibrating with rage. Every muscle tight. Every breath ragged. He’s pacing in the shadows of the farthest away bus. Eyes wild. Frantic. Hands shaking with jagged movements. At war with himself. With his instincts.
"Vessel," Ivy calls out softly, but firmly. Not challenging him. Or trying to provoke his ire. His voice is grounding. His teeth chatter as his own body processes the sudden surge of adrenaline in his veins.
Vessel doesn’t turn to face him. Doesn’t speak. His fists are clenched so hard that his knuckles are white.
"You listened to me back there," Ivy continues, stepping into his orbit but not crowding him. Making his presence known through sound and scent. Trying to reach him. "You didn’t have to, but you did."
That gets a reaction.
Vessel stops pacing. Turns slowly to look at him. Eyes still dark. Scent still sour with fury. But it’s mixed now. Rife with confusion. Guilt. Need.
"I completely lost it," Vessel rasps. "You... made me stop."
"I didn’t make you do anything," Ivy says gently. Forcing his chattering teeth to smile. His body shakes. But no more so than Vessel's own. Amber dances in the rain. Warm leather meets the salt of the sea. "You chose to stop. You listened to me."
Vessel's whole body trembles. He steps closer. Tension rolling off of him in waves.
"You did the right thing," Ivy says, voice hushed. "No one back there could have physically overpowered you. You could have kicked that guy's ass easily. But you would have gotten yourself hurt in the process. I can't allow that. You asked me to pull you out of that pretty head of yours, remember?"
Vessel finally exhales. Steps into him. Drops his head against Ivy’s shoulder. A soft, shuddering sound escapes him. It's not submission, or something done out of anger. It's sheer, utter relief.
"I didn’t want to scare everyone," Vessel mumbles into the fabric of Ivy's hoodie.
"You didn’t," Ivy lies effortlessly. An easy thing for him, given the circumstances. His desire to protect Vessel outweighing the need for him to be truthful. He wraps his shaking arms around him. They tremble against one another then. Coming down from a mutual high. "You protected what’s yours. That’s all."
"So did you," Vessel mumbles. Words that give Ivy pause as he stares off into the distance.
Vessel lets himself be held then. Silent against him. Clutching at Ivy's back as he breathes in deep. The sourness in the air shifts. Dulls. A downpour shifting into a gentle rain. As if Vessel is trying to come back to himself.
Ivy lets his own scent wash over him.
His Alpha howls with pride in his chest.
And for once, the Dominant Alpha isn’t the one in control. The Guardian Alpha is.
-
II is a blur of motion.
Ivy watches on with curiosity as II's pale eyes dart over Vessel's skin. Peeling back the layers of his clothes. Examining his arms. His hands. Cupping the singer's cheeks and looking into his eyes. Ivy startles a little then as II turns his focus on him.
The little Omega peels Ivy's hood down. Removes his hat and tosses it back onto the nest that they sit upon. Ivy doesn't move. Doesn't question it. Only acts in compliance. Lifts his arms when II pulls his hoodie over his skin. Tries his best not to blush as the drummer seizes his arms and looks them over. Frowning downward at his skin.
II grabs his cheeks. Then pouts. An expression accompanied by an uptick in sweetness in his scent.
It's tooth-rotting. It's saccharine.
"We're fine, my love." Vessel says at last, pulling II from his frenzied haze.
"Something happened," II grumbles. Frowning once again. Ivy hates it. How sad II looks as he gradually releases his cheeks. "Someone said something about me or III, didn't they? You never get worked up over anything else."
Out of his periphery, Ivy sees Vessel wince.
"Figures," II sighs. Rolls his pretty eyes, but there is no playfulness in his expression. "Guess Ivy kept your head on your shoulders then?"
"Yeah," Vessel breathes out. His scent erratic. Fluctuating between barely discernible to overwhelmingly heavy. Ivy breathes in deep but keeps silent. Knows it's not his place to explain things. “He did.”
"You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?" II grumbles. Folds his arms across his chest. Sighs when Vessel remains silent. When the Dominant Alpha finally opens his mouth, II cuts him off. "I know what you're going to say. You're only protecting me."
"II," III interjects as he wraps his arms around the drummer. His warm scent seemingly grounding him. "It's instinct, little love. Don't be too hard on either of them. We can't help these sort of things, remember?"
"I'm not mad," II huffs. Ivy sees it then. Smells it in the air. Something he never wanted to detect. Something that makes his Alpha awaken with fury.
Hurt.
Ivy acts before he can stop himself. Startles III as he scoots forward on the edge of the bed. Takes II into his arms. Out of III’s. He doesn't think. His body doesn't need to. It never occurs to him. How II isn't his. His Alpha doesn't know the difference. Imprinted. Courting. Mated. It hardly matters to it. To Ivy. Not when II is the one who his instincts and mind have both decided to protect. Not when II is hurt and Ivy can't shelter him from it.
II is still against him for a moment. Vessel deadly so. III clears his throat.
Ivy doesn’t flinch.
His arms only instinctively curl protectively around II’s small frame. One hand settling against the small of his back. The other pressing between his shoulder blades. The drummer fits against him like he was made for it. And maybe he was, his Alpha chimes. Maybe something divine made sure Ivy's arms would always find their way here. Holding II. Holding onto someone precious to him. Someone he wanted. Someone he loved more than anything.
"I don't like seeing you like this," Ivy mumbles before he can stop himself. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. The gentleness of his voice surprises even himself. It’s embarrassingly soft. Nearly sheepish. He feels Vessel's eyes on him. Hears III drawl in a deep breath. "I can't stand to see you hurt."
Everything is still.
But II moves.
Lets out a shaky exhale and leans in. Buries his nose in the hollow of Ivy’s neck. The sharp rise of tension in the room dulls into something soft. Malleable. Something warm.
Harmony reaches outward.
The Guardian reaches back.
“I’m not hurt over something that I don't even know about,” II mutters softly. His voice is thick. Quiet. “It’s just... I don't like seeing Vessel upset. Or you.”
Ivy’s brow furrows.
II shakes his head, just barely.
“Whatever happened, I'm just glad that you were there for him.” II insists. Raking his fingers through Ivy's disheveled hat hair. Dark locks threading through deft fingers. Untangled by the motion. Ivy leans into it. Let's the sensation carry him. Let's Harmony seep into his bones. Numb away the ache. The worries of home. The adrenaline that's yet to die down. The edge that his Alpha feels over II's state. The lingering tension that carries over from protecting Vessel. “I don't want to know what happened. I just want you two to lie down with me and relax."
Vessel shifts beside them. Snakes an arm around II. Over top of Ivy's own. III steps forward then. Smiles as he presses a kiss to II's crown before encircling them all in his lengthy arms. Ivy chuffs into the space between them. Buries his nose in II's neck and breathes it in. Their mingling scents. The rife sweetness of II's lavender as he inhales it from the direct source. He grumbles.
Feels the tension leave II. Smells it as it fades in Vessel. Gleans the calm that III offers them all through the roaring scent of calming fire.
"Thank you for taking care of Vess," III whispers. Shifts then. Braces a knee on the bed and kisses Ivy's cheek where it pokes out from the crook of II's neck. He nuzzles back into the touch. Mindful not to headbutt the other Alpha. Or II for that matter. Basking in III’s presence. Shivering from his praise. Alpha contented. Mind peacefully blank. Heartbeat rapid. His teeth ache as he nods his head against II's skin. "And for defending us. You're... good for us, Ivy. Filling in all those gaps that I can't."
"Vessel is a lot to handle," II snickers. Something Vessel makes a noise of protest over. The drummer merely laughs. The sound pleasant. Delightful. Absent of pain. Of hurt. Ivy's Alpha fills with pride. Knows that he's partially responsible for II's relief. For his joy. His chest tightens. He grips him closer. Fingers digging into the fabric of II's shirt. "He's strong as shit, too. III tried to hold him back once. It didn't end well."
"He threw me clear on my arse," III chuckles. Ivy snorts then. Feels Vessel's embarrassment as it fills the air. But he knows it's not a thing of bitterness. There's palpable fondness in the air. Over Vessel himself.
"Got me to stop though," Vessel grumbles. Leans into them further as III does his best to cram them all together in his embrace. Crushing them together. Ivy doesn't mind. None of them seem to.
"He cried like a baby when we made it home," III giggles. The sound cheery and bright. Ivy smiles into II's skin. Even when Vessel scoffs. "Treated me like a princess for weeks."
"You are a princess," Vessel says mockingly. Words they share a laugh over as III releases them all with one final squeeze.
"Well, this princess is tired." III declares as he nods towards the back of the nest. Comprised of a monstrous bed canopied by II's curated sheets and their clothing. The remainder of the bedroom is sparse. A simple entertainment center and a wardrobe. Nothing immaculate. Nothing else. Fairy lights light the space around them. Strung from the entertainment center. The harsh overhead light stays turned off. Leaving the room warm. Quaint. Comforting.
"You did good today, by the way." Vessel muses as he removes himself from Ivy and II's sides. "That other bassist couldn't cook for shit."
"That's what I was thinking! I didn’t want to say,” III laughs heartily as he ducks under the canopy. Turning the sheets down. "II blew us all out of the water though."
"Everything you two made was delicious," Ivy mumbles as he begrudgingly raises his head. Arms still holding II as the little Omega continues to burrow his face into the crook of his neck. Nuzzling him. The gesture so painfully sweet and loving that Ivy's chest physically hurts from the yearning building there. Bubbling beneath the surface. His scent thickens. Dances with II's own.
II peels back then. Glares at him.
"Stop doing that," II tells him pointedly. Ivy blinks. "I worked hard on making sure that the room smells this way. It's balanced now. So, reel it in."
"Sorry, II," Ivy concedes with a grin. Mirth and warmth in his eyes as II's gaze softens.
"Now that that's settled, go get your pyjamas on. It's time for bed. We've got a show tomorrow," Vessel tells them both. Kissing II's cheek before he leans down again. Ivy meets Vessel’s lips with his own. Allowing the touch to linger.
Ivy thinks that it feels like a thank you.
-
The next morning, as Ivy blinks awake in the comfort of the nest, II plops down beside him. Jostling him.
"We need to talk."
Ivy's heart sinks. His tired eyes widen as II gazes down at him. His expression gravely serious.
Then, II rolls his glimmering blue eyes. Leans down and kisses his cheek. Soothing him immediately.
"Stop panicking," II grumbles. His nose crinkles as his lips brush against the stubble on Ivy's face. The drummer's fingers thread through his hair. Pushing Ivy's dark locks off of his forehead. "You haven't done anything wrong, Ivy. And that's exactly why we need to talk."
"I'm... listening," Ivy rumbles. Voice deep and rough from sleep. Confusion races in his mind. His Alpha paces within him.
II sighs softly against his skin.
"I want you," II whispers softly. His heartbeat stills in his chest. His breath catches in his lungs. His throat tightens. Blood races south. His half-hard cock twitches as heat pools in his gut. His toes feel numb. His Alpha howls within him, overcome. II is more composed as he continues. "We want you. Do you know that?"
"Yeah. I want you all, too." Ivy admits hoarsely. Licking his dry lips. It doesn’t do any good.
"Vessel is my Alpha," II tells him pointedly. Still leaning against him. Lips still grazing his skin. A part of Ivy bristles. A part that's baseline Alpha instinct. His Guardian swats it down. Bids it to listen. Stifles the growl in his chest. The desire for claim. The desire for selfish possession. Ivy hates that part of himself. But he knows that not all Alphas do. He finds himself glad that III and Vessel seemingly hate that part of themselves, too.
"He's III's Alpha," II says softly. Deft fingers still combing through Ivy's hair. "If you want fully into this pack, then he's your Alpha, too."
Ivy swallows thickly. Thinks of Vessel. His kind eyes. His overwhelming strength. His authoritative presence. His overwhelming scent. His soft lips. His smooth as satin voice. His leadership. His concessions. His willingness to listen. To defer. To sacrifice.
Ivy's Alpha mulls it over. But Ivy himself doesn't think he needs to.
"Vessel isn't a tyrant. You know this," II whispers. Scent flaring. Engulfing him. Harmony weaving into his words in offering. It's second nature then. To let it seep into his skin. His bones. His chest. His heart. "But he has instincts, too. Needs that have to be met. Things that he has to listen to. He loves us, and he listens. But he is the one with the final say. Not because he forces his will on to us or anything. But because we trust him to do what's best for this pack. For our family."
Family.
That's what this is, at the end of the day.
Ivy knows that. Recognizes it for what it is.
His own family means everything to him.
He's never realized how desperately he wants one of his own. Something that's his. Four walls and warm bodies that make him feel complete. That provide him love and support. Solace from the outside world. He doesn’t have that back in Cardiff.
He thinks once more of Alys. Of her words. Her advice. Her plea for him.
”You want my honest to god's advice, Ivy? Don't come back here to this shithole. You looked alive the other day. You're in love and chasing your dreams. Stay the hell away from this place. It'll keep you trapped here forever if you let it."
He doesn't want that. To return to his childhood home empty handed, even if his bank account is full. He doesn't want to go backwards.
He wants to, needs to, move forward. For himself, for once.
"So, you need to ask yourself if you trust him," II urges. Something that Ivy processes in time with his own burgeoning wants. His nod is stiff but resolute. Mind made up. His Alpha doesn't fight him. Doesn't bristle here either. Remembers how it held Vessel back. How it had, for a time, been the sole tether to sanity for Vessel. How it had fought hard against him.
How it has never once been stifled here amongst them.
That's all that it wants, really.
Something to protect. Something to defend. Something he's willing to lay down his life for.
From down the hall, III's warm, hushed voice carries. Something sweet and soft in his tone. Something nervous in his scent. Ivy wonders if it's for him. For this. For the conversation that he has with II about his fate. Theirs. The choice he must make alone.
"When the time comes," II mutters as he peppers kisses on Ivy's skin. Forcing him to shudder. Forcing him to writhe against the sheets. An instinctual sound catches in his throat. He doesn't need to be the top dog, he reminds himself. He only needs this. The smell of lavender and honey. Simmering, spiced vanilla. The salt of the sea. The smell of the rain. The scent of freshly cut cedarwood. The crackle of an open flame. Their love. Home. Pack. Family.
"Vessel would claim you first. It has to be that way. No exceptions." II continues, his breath a warm ghost over Ivy's skin. Fingers dig into his scalp, forcing a shiver out of him. "You can always say no, too. You can always change your mind. Vessel... meant what he said, you know? Even if you don't want this... us... you still have a place here, IV."
It makes sense to him. Vessel's need for first blood. To ensure that he's the one in control over what happens next. To bring someone fully into his pack before he allows them near his mates in that capacity. The choice before him is once more obvious. The crossroads he stands at is clear. But Ivy has already accepted what he wants for himself. And even if he's unsure of the consequences, unsure of whether or not he can balance his wants and his responsibilities back home, he's already made up his mind.
"That's... fine," Ivy answers. Finding his voice at last. It's a quiet thing. But it is one steeled with conviction. "I trust Vessel."
"He won't do it until we're back home. The bus may be his territory, but... it's still a bus," II explains, breathless. Ivy's breath catches once again. "III can tell you what it's like, but... it will be scary at first. Alphas of any kind aren't used to it. It's going to hurt. You're going to panic. You're going to want to fight him, but you're not going to win."
Ivy tenses. He reflects once more on Vessel's inhuman strength. He remembers how easily he had been pinned in the alley. The wolfish grin he had worn. His glimmering fangs.
His beautiful smile.
"Will you be there with me?" Ivy asks. Chews on his bottom lip. II nods carefully against him.
"III will be there too,” II promises him. Words that bring a smile to Ivy's lips. Forcing his teeth to part from his sensitive skin. "Vessel will be annoyingly protective over you for a while after. Cling to you. Growl at people. He's such a mess, honestly. It’s almost embarrassing."
The words are spoken with such overwhelming fondness that Ivy can't help but laugh. II snorts. Collapses beside him. Buries his face in Ivy's neck. Breathing him in. His body is warm. Everything about him is.
"III will probably cry when he marks you," II continues wistfully. "He'll definitely cry when you mark him. Even if he wasn't an Empath, he's still a complete softie. Lucky he's so sweet. And pretty. That helps his case."
Ivy laughs even louder. Amused. Overjoyed. Imagining III's pretty eyes welled up with tears. Imagining his own teeth sinking into III's skin. Into Vessel's. Not claiming them through instinct and bond. But by choice and intention. Scarring them. A mark they'd wear forever. Show off proudly on their skin. Something his. Something theirs. Something that belongs only to them.
"And what about you?" Ivy asks, equally breathless. He stares upward at the bus's ceiling. Hears Vessel and III's quiet conversation down the bus's hallway from the open bedroom door. Feels II as the little Omega nuzzles into his side. Wraps his arms around his chest. Holds onto him as if he's something precious.
As if he is something worth guarding and protecting.
"I'll put my claim right here," II muses. Smirks against him. Grazes teeth against Ivy's scent gland. He groans. It isn't at all a quiet thing. His Alpha has never known such bliss. To know it's wanted. To know that he is. "Right in the center. And... you'll put yours opposite of III's."
His claim on II's neck....
Ivy lets his eyes close. Doesn't trust himself to speak for a moment. Merely lies there while II kisses his skin. His neck. His scent gland.
Right where II wanted to leave his permanent mark on his neck. A claim on his skin. A claim on his very soul.
His throat aches with the weight of everything he wants. Everything that he's been too scared to say.
"I love you, II," Ivy breathes out. Admits the words at last. He doesn’t know if it’s too soon. But he knows that it’s true.
He allows it all to come full circle. From the moment he first laid eyes on II. To his fear of losing him. To his desire to be by his side. To the quiet moments that they shared. To the courtship gifts. To the matching necklaces. To the teasing. To the cuddling. To the way II felt perfect in his arms. To how he feels now. Breathy sounds escaping his soft lips. His body trembling. His smile growing where it presses against Ivy's skin.
There is no moment of silence.
There is no hesitation.
"I love you too, Ivy."
There is only the promise of a future that they choose for themselves.
Notes:
Talk about an emotional roller coaster. We're far from finished. But things will only get more intense from here on out. In all the good ways, of course. The others? We shall see. <3
Expect an update soon. Sick brain, rain, and free time. I get creative when I'm stuck inside. Makes me feel a bit productive, at least.
Chapter 10: Curtain Call
Summary:
Light Angst. Worldbuilding! Pack backstory! Character Growth! A little heat? Big feels. Big words. Big decisions. The curtain call on act 1, you could say.
A little shorter than usual, but this felt like the place to stop.
Edit: Rating bumped to Mature. It will get bumped up to Explicit at some point.
Notes:
Okay, I'm slightly less sick. So, that's a bonus. I know, I know. I just posted yesterday. But I really had nothing better to do. I played video games and wrote all day. So, here. Have this as a bonus chapter for the week.
Next update will more than likely be late next week, around Friday-ish. Maybe a tad before. But I have things to do before/after work that I had to put off since I caught a cold. So, once real life is sorted, I'll be back to writing like a mad woman.
I'm honestly a bit blown away by the support on this fic. I woke up to 23 comments. That's... a lot. And it make me super happy to know people are enjoying this enough to engage with it/me by leaving feedback on it. Thank you all, sincerely. <3 I have read them all, and will be responding to every comment once I get finished devouring my soup. :)
Not beta-read! Please, pardon any errors you might find.
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As they wait for their set time to draw near, III joins Ivy at one of the picnic tables within the artist's lot.
The lot is sparsely occupied. Most bands have gone off to perform or explore already. Leaving them mostly alone in the open expanse. Ivy takes a drag off his smoke. Greets III with a smile as the bassist sinks down across from him. Ivy's phone sits between them. A heated text exchange displayed on the screen. A conversation between himself and Owen. One that had his blood pumping initially. But now, with the other's contact blocked, Ivy sits in contemplative silence.
"Vess is a bit miffed at the moment," III tells him. Pulls him from his own thoughts as the bassist holds his palms out and wags his fingers. Ivy nods, digging through his leather coat's pocket before he grabs his pack of smokes and his lighter. He offers them to the other Alpha. Watches as III pulls one free and lights it. Coughing for a moment afterward.
"What's wrong with Vessel?" Ivy inquires with a raised brow.
"The fishing cabin we stayed at hit him with a three hundred quid cleaning fee," III explains with a languid motion. His cigarette smoke curls around him. Intertwines with the roaring scent of his hearth fire. Ivy cocks his head to the side. His confusion apparent. Not that it mattered when III could sense his changing moods with ease. Read him like a book before the first signs of questioning even crossed his features. "II."
Ivy's brow furrows. He reads between the lines. Puts together the unspoken pieces. Fury coils in his gut. Settles into tension in his shoulders.
"They charged a cleaning fee because II nested," Ivy states, doesn't ask.
"Don't tell II," III asks of him with a frown. "It happens almost every time that we stay somewhere. Vess looks for listings that claim to be accommodating and Omega-Friendly, " III spits the words like venom. "But this shit happens more often than not."
"People are disgusting and heartless," Ivy grumbles. A low, instinctual sound. He takes a long drag off his smoke as III does the same. The bassist doesn't cough this time.
"II's nesting habits have gotten more persistent this year," III says. Not disagreeing with Ivy's sentiment. Merely continuing the conversation. But skillfully redirecting it. Settling the tension. Albeit the shift in topic still doesn't seem all that pleasant to Ivy's perception. III looks troubled. His expressive eyes faraway as he takes another hit from his cigarette before sighing. "A lot of it has to do with Fore. He... was a Sanctuary Alpha. The traditional type. Wanted the whole pack in a big house, out of the city. Making music in-house. No more live gigs. Have II laid up safely in his nest with eighteen pups running around. That sort of thing."
"The opposite of what you all want," Ivy muses with a frown. Cigarette bobbing between his down turned lips. He remembers II's tired, hurt explanation. How Fore never listened to him. He hates how much sense it all makes. "So, that's where the resentment for Vessel and anger towards you came in, I'm assuming?"
"Yeah," III confirms as he runs a hand through his golden hair. Pushing it off of his forehead until the breeze brushes it back. "Fore genuinely loved II, but he was shit at reining in his instincts. Operated more at the baseline Alpha level than we did. But that was a side effect of his sub-type. They argued a lot. It had little love torn to bits. Even though he hardly let it show. Vessel tolerated it for a while. He knew that II loved Fore to some extent and wanted to make it work. But... Vess eventually put his foot down."
"That must have been hard on all of you," Ivy says sincerely. Grimacing as he snubs out the remainder of his smoke. Reaching for another and lighting it without much thought. III takes a long drag off his own. Nods solemnly before meeting Ivy's gaze. There's sadness there. It curls in III's scent. Simmers in his sparkling blue-green eyes. Ivy reaches for his hand. Smiles a little as III instantly reaches back. Squeezing his fingers.
"Fore was right about some things, though," III acknowledges with a bitter sounding exhale. "The world isn't always a kind place. Even if II is respected in the industry because he's earned his stripes, that doesn't change the world around us as a whole. Being away from home for long periods is stressful for II. No matter what he says to the contrary.”
III pauses, bows his head a little as he tenses.
“He... nests constantly now, when we're away. Every night. Every new location. Vessel caught him making a nest in a venue's greenroom on the last tour,” III continues with a somber tone. “II was embarrassed, and a bit pissed off about the whole thing. The IV before you didn’t understand it was from stress. Made some snide comments.” III’s mouth twists. He exhales hard. “But Vess and I... just hurt for II."
"II is... tough as nails," Ivy tells him with a small smile. A reassuring one, or so he hopes. III's eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles, nodding once more. "But he's got instincts, just like we do. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing to be embarrassed over. He should do whatever he needs to make himself feel comfortable and safe in a new environment."
"We agree. We try to support him, but sometimes II just needs to be alone. Like back at the fishing cabin, when he wanted the house to himself. When he had Vessel all pouty and feeling like he wasn't doing enough to provide for him," III reveals. Ivy grimaces once more. Wishing he had known how Vessel had been feeling at that moment. Wishing he had told the Dominant Alpha that he always did more than enough. "Little love just needs time to relax on his own every now and again. Nest. Be an Omega. Not a partner. Not a performer."
"He deserves that," Ivy concurs with a curt nod. Amber, smoke, and leather curling. He tightens his grip on III's lithe fingers. Squeezing them right back. "I don't think it's wrong of you and Vessel, keeping this from him. II isn't naive, of course. He knows the way the world is, but you both do a good job of shielding him from the worst of it."
III’s smile then is the softest he’s ever seen on him. Gentle. Earnest. Beautiful.
"I can think of no better compliment coming from a Guardian," III chuckles. But his voice is entirely sincere. "Being in this pack means doing things for each other that will not always receive recognition. Being there for each other. Doing things for each other. The seen and unseen kind of things you do for the people that you love. We try to prioritize that. Taking care of each other."
Ivy nods and blushes when III leans across the table. The bassist chucks his burnt-out smoke and reaches for Ivy's cheeks instead. Ivy leans into it. Feels the table dig into his abdomen as he removes his smoke from his lips with his free hand and leans in the remaining distance. The kiss is short and sweet. Awkward from the angle. But Ivy's heartbeat quickens in his chest all the same. III's warm fingers curl against the stubble on his cheeks. Smoke filters in-between the space between them.
"You've already been doing that since you got here," III mumbles as he sinks back down onto the bench. "Thank you, Ivy."
Ivy smiles then. A genuine, heartfelt thing. In the distance, cheers erupt following the conclusion of another band's song. The sun begins to set. Showtime rapidly approaching.
They should move. Paint their skin. Pull on their masks. Become something bigger than merely themselves again.
But Ivy isn't in a rush. And judging by the way that III looks at him with such profound gratitude and love in his eyes, it seems that the bassist isn't in a rush either.
-
The crowd is massive.
Their largest show to date, according to Vessel.
Bodies press in. The barricade rattles. Lights burn hot. Flash in a display that puts the other light shows to shame. Dense fog clings to the air. Bass rattles the stage beneath Ivy's boots. II's passion shakes the ground itself. III's thumping support vibrates through the amplifiers. Vessel's heavenly voice is thunderous.
Ivy's riffs meld perfectly into the mix. His harsh vocals amplify Vessel's own sparse ones. Fill in the gaps where the singer remains quiet. He’s glad that Vessel doesn’t push himself; he knows his own voice will be hoarse by the end. But it's worth it. To give the audience what they came for. To give the people that he loves a proper showing in front of their largest crowd ever.
Ivy feels the weight of it fully. The energy. The reverence. The sheer fucking power of it. Of them.
They move like one beast now. Roar as one through the sound system. Possess the crowd with their presence. With Vessel and II's beautifully crafted songs.
Ivy hopes he's done them justice as the finishing notes come to an end.
The applause is deafening. It pierces through his in-ears as he smiles beneath his mask. He joins Vessel, III, and II center stage and poses before the sea of cheering fans.
He's addicted to the feeling. The feeling of their bodies against his. The chattering of his teeth from nerves and exhaustion. The sound of cheering.
It's everything that he's ever wanted.
And according to those who stand beside him, it's everything that he's ever deserved.
"Shower," II hisses the moment that their feet hit backstage. Ivy snorts as the little Omega immediately peels off down the hallway the moment that their travel bags are handed over to them. Ivy follows him and the others as their crew does a perfect job of keeping the other workers and bands at bay.
Ivy's grateful for that. For them. For not having to intervene. For having people around them who keep them safe. Who allow his Alpha to rest. There's no press where they go. No demanding eyes. Only respectful faces. Ones who know their own but keep that knowledge to themselves.
The venue's accommodation is surprisingly adequate. Three bathrooms with functioning showers offered to them without hesitation. II makes for one, then pauses. Shifts his weight a little as Vessel chuckles and steps forward. The singer goes inside first. Scans the room. Clearing it. Ivy's Alpha blinks to life. Curious. Grateful. Learning. Adapting. Content as Vessel gives the all clear and let's II storm in past him.
"Thank you," Vessel tells them all. Smiles brightly. Black paint flaking off his lips as III hums and slips inside after II. "I'm proud of you all."
"Glad I didn’t disappoint," Ivy says sincerely as he makes for the other bathroom. Vessel catches his arm. Leans down. Presses their lips together. Or rather, tries to. The fabric of Ivy's mask prevents the contact. But the sentiment remains. Vessel's lips are warm through the damp fabric. Vessel doesn't seem to mind the sensation. Only grins against him.
"We'll wait for you," Vessel whispers softly. Ivy shudders. Nods his head gently. "Here, soon... we won't have to be apart for things like this."
Ivy's mind goes blank as he blinks. Shocked. Heat coils in his gut. His cock twitches to life. Hardens in mere seconds. A problem to sort out when he's alone.
A problem that he won't have for much longer, he thinks as Vessel chuckles and slowly lets him go.
Ivy all but flies into the bathroom. Undresses in a haze. Scrubs black paint off his skin. Watches it turn the water gray before it swirls around the drain. Grabs his cock in hand a moment later. Frenzied. In a daze. There's nothing gentle about the way he chases his pleasure then. He imagines Vessel's lips on him. His deep voice in his ear. III's large hands wrapped around his cock. His eyes filled with pretty tears. Imagines II on top of him. Riding him. Sliding his hips against him as he always did, but devoid of clothes. Ivy's cock buried deep inside of him.
It’s not just his hand anymore. It’s their mouths. Their hands. Their bodies. Their voices in his head. He cums with their names burning his throat. Slams his head back into the tiles. Wonders if they heard him fall apart.
He hopes that they enjoy the sound of what they did to him. Of how desperately he wants them.
-
They're exhausted when the bus pulls up at their next destination.
A twenty-four-hour store.
The kind lined with groceries, snacks, and electronic goods. Clothes dot the aisles in the center. Jewelry lies displayed in locked up cases. Bargain bins filled with old DVDs and CDs line the end caps. It's frigid inside. The air conditioner blasting as Vessel grabs a buggy and III grabs another. There's paint on III's ear still. A smidge of black on Vessel's lower jaw. II's drying hair curls into waves against his pale skin. His flushed cheeks poking out from beneath a hoodie. One of Ivy's.
Ivy smiles as III corrals II towards the clothing section. Gushing about some clearance rack in the distance filled with swirling patterns. Vessel snorts, amused. Ivy chuckles as he falls into step beside the other Alpha. Tugging his hood over his hat as they meander down the central lane. Vessel navigates the store with ease in spite of their unfamiliarity with it. Ivy follows without input. Blue eyes scanning the shelves until they come to a halt in the home goods section.
The bedding aisle.
Vessel doesn't say anything. Only runs his fingers across the various displayed goods. His eyes simmer with contemplation. Dark around their edges, soft caramel in the center. Ivy gleans his intent. Recalls his conversation with III and feels his stomach churn. His hands clench subconsciously into fists as Vessel throws a plush blanket into the buggy. Then another. Then a pillow shaped like a crescent moon. Pale blue with glimmering gold threads. The material obviously soft.
"Right after II and I mated," Vessel begins softly, almost absentmindedly, as he smooths his hand over a velveteen comforter. "II tore my tiny flat in Bath apart looking for stuff to make the bed. He nested with... my curtains. Bathroom towels. I didn’t have anything else to give him.” Vessel pauses. Smiles to himself. Sad. Fond. Ivy's heart sinks. Scent sours as he listens intently. Vessel adds the comforter to the buggy. Sighs when it already starts to look full. “When we first toured in his dad's borrowed work van, it was the same stuff. Bathmats. Spare shirts. The only hoodie that I owned.”
Ivy says nothing. Just watches him. Feels the way Vessel’s scent shifts. Warm Rain. The kind you'd find on a summer's day. Out of place but a welcome reprieve from the searing heat.
“He has more than enough now. I know that. But instincts… sometimes they win. Especially when II is involved,” Vessel explains, his voice tight. He shakes his head. Grabs another pillow. A pale blue body pillow covered in fleece. It's almost the color of II's eyes, but not quite pretty enough, Ivy muses to himself. Vessel puts it into the buggy without a second thought.
“He’s going to grumble at me,” Vessel continues with a small upturn of his lips. “He’ll say there’s no room in the bus for all of this shit. But it's getting harder for me to say no to all of the things that my instincts want. I have to compromise with it eventually. Give it something back for all that I deprive it of. I think that II’s in that same place, too. Needs an outlet. One that I can actually provide for him now.”
There’s silence after that. Brief. Gentle.
And then II is just... there. Standing at the other end of the aisle with III as the bassist lets the shirt he was holding up slip through his fingers. Ivy watches it fall, slow and soundless, to the polished concrete floor.
II immediately walks over to Vessel's side. Looks down at the soft blankets and pillows stacked high in the cart. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just slips his hand into Vessel’s. Holds it tight. Leans into him.
Ivy smiles faintly. Feels III's radiating warmth even across the bedding section. Vessel lets out a small sigh.
"II, love," Vessel starts. But II shakes his head. Steps closer. Nuzzles into his side.
“I heard you,” he murmurs. “And you’re not wrong. I’m still going to grumble about all of this shit.” He pauses. Chews on his pretty bottom lip. Closes his beautiful eyes. The ones that shine brighter and sparkle with a more gorgeous shade than the pale blue pillow that rests atop the pile. Ivy's chest fills with warmth then. Watching them. No jealousy in his veins. His Alpha is quiet. Observant. II sighs softly. “But thank you, Ve. For then. For now. For everything.”
Vessel exhales like he’s been holding his breath since their time in Bath. Pulls II close. Buries his nose in his hair.
"I love you," Vessel whispers. So reverent. So sincere. It almost hurts to watch. To listen to.
Ivy's teeth ache from the sweetness. From the raw want built up behind them. He gives them their space. Knows that II and Vessel need this moment. Need each other. Knows there's nothing he can do or say. Knows that their history runs deep. But he doesn't know its depths, not fully.
"I love you," II responds, burying his face in Vessel's jacket.
Ivy smiles to himself. Slips past them. Joins III at the end of the aisle and plucks the shirt he dropped from the ground. Faux satin. Paisley swirls. Gold and black. He presses it against III's chest. Looks up at the bassist's soft expression and gently leans against him.
"It's nice," Ivy says as III raises a hand and takes the shirt. "It'll look good on you. You look pretty in patterns."
"II thought so, too," III says softly. Leaning down and pressing a kiss against his cheek. Not bumping into his hat. A feat that makes Ivy chuckle softly as III giggles against him. "Let's give them a minute, yeah?"
"Race you to the socks?” Ivy proposes with a wicked grin.
"You're on now," III cackles. Grabbing the buggy and taking off as Ivy snorts and languidly follows behind him.
When he catches up to the bassist, he's cradling a pair of knee-high checkered socks to his chest. Smiling. But Ivy can see it in his eyes. The urge to say more. Ivy plucks the socks from his hands with care. Gently lies them on top of the shirt in the buggy. Turns to III once more and pulls the bassist down until their foreheads touch.
"Talk to me," he urges him. Doesn't know where the instinct comes from. Whether it's his. Or his Alpha's. But knows he can't stand it either way. The absence of words when there's something clearly left unsaid.
"Back when I first started touring with them, and I saw the back of the van for the first time," III begins with a small sigh. "Vess had a look on his face that broke my heart into pieces. He didn't say anything. But he didn't need to. Being an Empath and all, I knew. So, I went to a bargain store and maxed out my starter credit card. Bought the aisle out of blankets. I know Vess fell in love with me on the spot when I turned them over to him."
"That was really sweet of you," Ivy tells him sincerely. Smiles when III does. More genuine this time.
"I tried to tell him to say they were from him, but he refused. He cried something fierce a bit later. Said he felt inadequate, and his instincts made him feel like a failure. Big and strong as he is, but…not having more to give his little mate," III continues as Ivy brushes back his golden hair. Soothing him with his scent. His touch. His presence. Everything that he has to give. III accepts it willingly. Allows it all. Seems lighter for it when their eyes meet again. "You poured your heart out to Vess when you signed that contract. It's only fair that you know where we come from, too. What we've been through as a pack. What you're walking into."
"And look how far you've come," Ivy mumbles as III's hands brush over the stubble on Ivy's cheeks. "As people. As musicians. And as a pack. You should be proud, III. Hell, you've reached a place where you can afford to pick up a stray like me."
"Not a stray anymore though, are you?" III whispers sweetly. His words softening Ivy's gaze as he gently nods against him. "I love you to bits, you know that?"
Ivy breathes out a shaky exhale. His heartbeat thumping in his ears. His blood rushing. His lips peel back further. Not quite a wolfish grin like Vessel's, but something overjoyed. Something automatic. Something adoring.
"I love you too," Ivy says because it's true.
Because he loves III. The love is different. It's not the same as it is with II. But it is equal.
Not lesser. Not in any sense. Not in any capacity.
He loves III's quiet moments and knowing gazes. His outbursts. His quirks. His passions. His love for eccentric clothing. His outdoorsmanship. His friendliness. His shared stories. His willingness to wear his heart on his sleeve. His emotional intelligence. His kind eyes. His goofy quips. His pretty smile. His warm lips. His callused hands.
"Didn't think I'd say this in a twenty-four-hour mart," III barks out a laugh. Humored. Relieved. Ivy shares in it. Chuckles alongside him as III presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek before slowly releasing him. "I'd say that we traumatized the other customers, but this place is a fucking ghost town."
"Thank fuck for that," Ivy snorts through an adoring smile. Watches as III's eyes light up. Soften. Crinkle in the corners. Everything that he loves about him. "Go pick out more socks. My treat."
"My first courting gifts from Ivy?" III beams at him. Then, there's a shift in his eyes. Something mischievous. Something wicked.
When III dumps half a rack of socks into the buggy, metal shelf hooks and all, Ivy laughs so hard that he sees stars.
-
When they make it back to the bus, and the newly acquired bedding items have been properly scented, II disappears into the bedroom.
Ivy smiles as a pile of old sheets are thrown out of the door before it slams shut. Vessel chuckles at his side. Leaning back on the couch with a pleased smile on his lips while III finishes organizing his gifts. Ivy watches him fondly. Feels love simmering in his gaze as III proudly shows Vessel his new collection before tidying them away. Ivy knows it must mean a lot to III. He’s seen III discard items carelessly before. Throw freshly washed clothes into piles.
To see him folding something as mundane as socks is unusual. But then again, they weren't just simple socks and a few paisleys.
Courting gifts.
Ivy makes a mental note to buy them more often in what little time that they have left on the road.
As if Vessel reads his mind, the singer gently nudges him.
"II told me that you got into it with your friends back home," Vessel starts with a frown. Something Ivy sighs at.
"Had a bit of a blow up this morning, too. I blocked the main perpetrator, my guitarist," Ivy scoffs. "Ex-guitarist. I don't think the band is going to last either. Our drummer is doing the whole I'm neutral in this bit. And Jack... he's too pissed off to want anything to do with them right now. My old flatmate took off, too. Left our place and broke the lease. Probably wasn't legal, but... whose gonna hold a slumlord accountable?"
"Windfalls usually show you who you can trust, and who you can't. Trust me on that one." Vessel hums with a sympathetic glance. Scent coiling, hand seeking. Ivy lets him take his own. Lets Vessel rub the scent gland on his wrist. Soothe him. His Alpha doesn't know what to make of the feeling. But it doesn't shy away from it anymore. His future Alpha, Vessel, he mulls on the thought. On his own desires. Swallows thickly as he nods his head.
"I don't... want to go back to Cardiff," Ivy admits at last. Words that scare him. Words that show in his scent as it punctuates the air. Amber wafting through Vessel's storm clouds. Leather warming beneath III's quiet fire. Vessel sucks in a breath. Chews at his lip, fangs barely grazing skin. His gaze darkens. Ivy shivers beneath its weight. Doesn't feel meek for it. Doesn't feel lesser. Only seen. Heard. Wanted.
"So, don't," Vessel breathes out, and Ivy's worldview narrows. His perspective becomes skewed. Off-kilter. Vessel is all that fills his gaze. All he can see. All he can focus on. Vessel's touch grounds him. Tethers him. Keeps him there, alongside him. Here, in the moment. "You've already talked with II. And I've already discussed this with both of them. So, now I'll give you my word."
Vessel leans in then. Steals Ivy's breath away as their foreheads rest against each other’s.
"You know that we want you. And we know that you want this, us." Vessel says huskily. Confidently. The singer’s fingers trace the line of Ivy's chattering jaw. His Alpha simmers in his chest. Grumbling. Not understanding why it's so different than it is with III. But everything is different with Vessel, he realizes.
He doesn't know how to react beyond the instinctual urge to defend Vessel. The pack that he's found himself entangled in. Ivy's Alpha knows its task. Carries it out dutifully and with pride. But it doesn't understand the concept before him. The enigma that is a Dominant Alpha.
And so, it falls on Ivy to understand it, for both his Alpha and himself.
It's Vessel, he tells himself simply.
The same Vessel who pours his heart into everything that he does. Who leads with confidence even if he's struggling internally. Who prioritizes the safety and comfort of his mates above all else. Who sings with a voice sent from heaven. Who comes from a past scarred like hell. Who loves II so much that it sometimes hurts to look at. Who loves III more than words and actions, or scent, could ever express. Who allows himself to be guided and welcomes counsel. Who wants to provide for those around him. Who offers sneak peeks at his heartfelt wants and desires through carefully spoken words and the occasional unintentional action.
The same Vessel that he loves. Intensely. Humanly. Not instinctively. Different than II. Different than III.
Equally. Not lesser. Not in any sense. Not in any capacity.
"You'd be ours, if you still want to be." Vessel reminds him, fingers brushing over dark stubble. Ivy shivers. His heartbeat hammers in his chest. His throat feels tight as he takes in a stuttered breath. "We have one week, and a handful of days left, and then the tour’s over. We’ll stop by Cardiff. Pick up your things. Take you back with us." Vessel pauses with a breathy exhale. Ivy swallows thickly. Teeth aching with raw want. "Then we’ll claim you. And you can stake your claim on us, too. Properly. At our home, in my territory where it’s safe. In II's real nest, where it means something."
For a brief moment, Ivy thinks of Cardiff. His fears of letting go. The fractured relationships. The lack of a proper home to return to. His parents need for cash. His sister and her family. His younger brother. Everything that he owes to Jack.
He's done making empty promises to them all.
Done returning home with nothing tangible to show for it.
Done being a mere protector with nothing else to provide.
He's done thinking about it. Waffling over it. Guilt tripping himself into thinking that he isn't worthy of this.
Of good things. Of love. Of opportunity. Of being wanted.
He will provide for them, but he will do so on his own terms. His own way. Through a path that he alone forges for himself alongside the people that he loves. The ones that love him in return.
"I don't need an out, or a reminder that I can change my mind," Ivy admits. Voice gruff. A bit scratchy now that the day's energy is waning. Strained from use from being on stage. From screaming words that accentuated Vessel's lyrically crafted tales of sacrifice, choice, love, and misery.
Ivy writes sad songs, too.
Thinks to himself that it's time for a change as he surges forward and catches the Dominant Alpha off guard. Kisses him hard. Kisses him like he's the only real thing left in the world for Ivy to hold onto. Vessel groans against him. A pleased noise caught in his throat. Ivy swallows up the sound. Smiles against his lips. Pants a little when they part.
"I love you," Ivy says the words with ease. Grins when Vessel's caramel-colored eyes widen a fraction. When the singer's uneven breath catches. When he steals the air from Vessel's lungs with the same ease that Vessel so often stole his. "I love all of you. I don't want to go back to a city that's always been unkind to me. I want to go home... with the three of you."
Vessel's reaction doesn't surprise Ivy, even if it startles a growl out of him. Startles his Alpha.
Ivy chuckles through it as the singer effortlessly pulls him into his lap. A new sensation. A pleasant one. Vessel buries his face in Ivy's neck. Breathes him in. Scents him. Mumbles shaky words into his skin. Words of belonging.
The promise of home.
"I love you too, Ivy."
The road beneath them hums. The tour bus carries them away to their next destination.
Four more stops until the end.
Four more stops until the start of a new beginning.
Notes:
As I said, a bit shorter than usual, but a much needed intermission style chapter here as we transition to the next phase of this story. I'm happy with how it turned out, even if my head fog is currently a 11/10 severity wise.
I guess I'm going to make a twitter/x whatever here soon. I doubt I'll say much on there, but hey, there's a way to reach me and vice versa if people want? I'll see how it goes. ^^;
Until next time!
Chapter 11: Cardiff
Summary:
Chapter warnings contain spoilers and will be posted in the end notes for those of you who wish to remain spoiler-free! It's nothing bad, you have my word.
Long chapter, the bridge to Act 2.
7.5k ish words. Buckle up!
Notes:
I was originally planning on uploading this tomorrow, but I decided to get it done now since it was ready to go.
I made a Discord account, my username is: itsminthis (@itsminthis)
Feel free to add me! Also, feel free to reach out if you want help maybe brainstorming, have questions about something, or would maybe like to work on something together in the future. I'm always down to chat about whatever. Music, writing, life, whatever it may be. :) Don't hesitate to reach out!
I remain blown away by the overwhelming support on this fic. Thank you all so much. This community is incredible, and just lovely all around. I've read all your comments, and I will be responding to each one of them this evening/tomorrow morning. You guys are the best. <3
Not beta-read. I've done my best to catch errors on re-reads, but this is a big one and I might have missed something. I'll do my best to catch them once I have a chance to look over it again.
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cardiff.
It's somehow grimmer than Ivy remembers. Gray skies. A persistent drizzle. The smell of rubbish and festering waterways. The windshield wipers scrape against the moving van's windscreen. A slow, rhythmic drag.
III's fingers dance over the leather steering wheel all the while. The bassist humming softly along to some low playing jazz music that the radio picks up on. A local station Ivy can’t remember the name of. Vessel and II sit behind them. Speaking softly to one another. Vessel's arms wrapped around the little Omega as II leans against his mate. Worn out and pliant.
The tour is finally over. A wild success by all accounts. And now they've finally entered a brief period of respite. But there's nothing relaxing about the interlude for Ivy. Nerves eat him alive. Anxious. Gnawing. Worried over returning here, to Cardiff. To gather his things. To say his goodbyes to his family. His friends. His hometown.
There's excitement, too. Eagerness.
Three days.
In three days’ time, he'll be in London. In their home. In his new home. He'll feel the bite of their teeth in his skin. Sink his own fangs into them in return. Be welcomed into the pack fully. Be welcomed in as a wanted, needed, part of their little family.
Ivy's happy about that. Nervous as all hell, too.
But he can't bring himself to dwell any further on it. No. Not when III turns down the dead-end street that leads to his childhood home. The one where his family awaits him. Where his meager belongings lay in storage in a bedroom untouched throughout the decade he's been away from its four walls.
"Last house, all the way down on the left," Ivy reminds him. Speaking over the GPS system as it cuts through the radio and static. "Blue van in the drive."
"Copy that, love," III says it like it's easy for him. Like the term of endearment doesn't make Ivy's heartbeat rise. Make his breath catch. Leaves his gums aching from how widely he smiles.
"Having second thoughts?" Vessel chimes in a moment later. Doubt wavering in his voice. As if he's nervous to ask. As if he's afraid of the answer he might receive. As if he expects something negative to come out of Ivy's mouth.
"Not in the slightest," Ivy tells him as he turns in the passenger seat. Seeking Vessel's hand with his own. Vessel smiles when he takes it. A nervous sort. The kind that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It feels weird coming back here, honestly."
Lavender fills the cabin. Warm, spiced notes of vanilla. Saccharine honey.
II hums this time. Louder than III. His pale eyes close as he gently sways into Vessel's side. Ivy senses the change in the air around them as the sound fills the cabin. Rhythmic. Punctuated. Intentional.
It calms his own instincts entirely. Allows his Alpha to slumber.
Doesn't ask. Doesn't offer. Doesn't wait for a response.
Ivy’s never known anything like it. Never been calmed like this, not by instinct alone. It pulls him under. Safe, but not smothered.
He watches Vessel's gaze. Notices how there is no immediate change over it. Still a nervous, instinctual glint in his eyes. Still contemplative.
"Stop fighting me," II grunts as he playfully headbutts Vessel's arm. Briefly shattering Ivy's stupor as he blinks rapidly. Vessel's lips part. A breathy sound escaping the singer as II cracks open an eye.
"What... was that?" Ivy asks, genuinely curious as the moving truck comes to a halt at the final stop sign before they reach their destination.
"Harmony," III answers with a shrug. One Ivy catches out of his periphery. "Little love doesn't do it often because he thinks he's being manipulative if he does. I love it when he does it, though. Takes the edge off the instincts. Makes it easier to regulate the emotions."
"Vessel," II growls. A sound that's painfully cute. Shouldn't be, Ivy knows it's a bit patronizing, but he finds it adorable all the same. II creaks both of his eyes open. Glares sideways at his longest-standing mate. "You promised me."
Ivy blinks. Doesn't understand their conversation. Know the context behind the promise. Infers that it must have to do with Vessel's sub-type. His resistance to influence. His unwavering instincts that had to opt into being affected. Ivy doesn't think that Vessel is stubborn for it. Has seen him bow before their instincts before. Heeds their needs. Their words. Their counsel.
But Vessel seems on edge now. No matter how hard Ivy squeezes the Dominant Alpha's hand.
"Sorry," Vessel relents at last. Drops his gaze. Breathes in deep just as the moving van's brakes screech. The vehicle gradually rolls to a stop.
Ivy finally lets go of Vessel’s hand and turns to face ahead. He takes a deep breath as he sees his childhood home directly beside them.
The house looks worse than the last time he saw it. Grass partially cut in some places. Too high in others. A shutter on the second story has come off its hinges. The paint on the front porch is almost chipped bare. The mailbox is off center. Hanging to the right more than it should. The rusted gutters are piled high with leaves. The front door’s glass is so smeared it’s gone opaque. The garage door is stuck open, clutter spilling forth into the drive.
Ivy's heart sinks as he takes it in. His mouth goes dry. His hands clench into subconscious fists, shaking in his lap.
He shouldn’t feel like a stranger pulling up to the home he grew up in. But he does.
The house his uncle left to his parents when he passed. The house that they had to refinance when Alys and Ivy were kids, in desperate need of cash. The driveway where he banged up his knees learning to skateboard. The broken football net that still hangs from the garage's rafters. The beat-up old van that took him to and from school. The front lawn where he and Alys used to play as kids. The porch where Ivy's mother had announced to her two teenage kids that she was expecting a third. It hits him all at once. Stings the corners of his eyes. He hurriedly undoes his safety belt and exits the vehicle.
"Ivy!"
He's not given time to think. Doesn't know how he missed it. Missed her.
Alys.
She crashes into him, arms locking tight around his neck. He catches her with familial and instinctive ease. He can feel her belly press against his skin. Not sticking out too far yet. But firm. Discernible. Alys is a Beta, but he can smell the change in her scent. Feel the life that grows within her. His Alpha reacts to it. Raises to shield her. To cradle his best friend. His sister. To protect her like instinct demands. Alys laughs happily against him.
"I've missed you so much," Ivy grumbles before he reluctantly allows his sister to peel back. She's smiling. Happy. Glowing. "Look at you, Alys. I'm so happy for you."
"Hard to believe, right?" Alys chuckles as she steps out of his hold. Smoothing over her small bump as another familiar face rounds the truck.
Ivy grins and snatches the beanie off Evan’s dark mop of hair, tugging him in. His knuckles brush over Evan's locks as his brother makes a noise of protest. Snorting all the while. Ivy laughs, pulls him in close. Pushes the beanie back into Evan's hands before he lets him go.
"You've gotten taller," Ivy observes. Delights in the grumble of annoyance Evan offers him before his brother shrugs.
"You haven't," Evan shoots back. Ivy barks out a laugh. Playfully shoves him as the other doors to the truck gradually creak open.
III circles the front, offering them a languid wave of his hand. The car keys jingling as they move, the ring slid onto his index finger. Vessel appears around the back, arm over II’s shoulders, mirth replacing the faraway look that lingered in his eyes a moment ago.
II looks... awestruck.
It lasts for all but a second. A fleeting glimmer in his eyes. But II's scent curls in the rain all the same. Sweet. Overcome.
Ivy catches his eyes, watching them dart to Alys' belly. Watching as II looks away and leans into Vessel further.
Ivy swallows the feeling that rises in him. Stores it away. Doesn't bring it up. Won't. Not now.
"So lovely to meet you all," Alys greets with a warm smile. "Well, don’t just stand there in the rain. Come in, all of you. Mam and tad are inside."
Ivy nods before he heads toward the house. Leading them all up the uneven concrete steps and onto the peeled paint planks on the porch. He swings the creaky door open without hesitation. Steps inside and breathes in the dusty smell of home as his boots meet the warped wooden floorboards. Nothing inside has changed since he last visited. A time capsule from his childhood. Plaid fabric on the sofas. TV dinner trays tucked into the corner. Tiffany lamps shining with warm light. The local news plays on the boxy television. The antenna sticking out at the same angle he had once bent it to better pick up the signal.
His father looks... old. Frail. Stands with a grin as he claps his hands over his knees. Faded jeans and a familiar flannel. Tucked in with a brown belt. Glasses perched on his nose. It hurts to look at. To see the man who once ran alongside him with ease reduced to this. Moving about as if every step pained him in some way. Ivy hugs him. Wants to hug him harder. But he's strong now, and his dad is....
"My boy," his father proclaims joyfully. Rocking them back and forth with his excitement. Something Ivy smiles at in spite of the crushing sense of time that weighs on his mind. He closes his eyes. Breathes in his dad's familiar scent. Smokestacks and iron.
Beta, unlike his late Anchor Alpha brother, but his father was an anchor to their family in more ways than one.
"Tad," Ivy exhales through a smile. Grips him harder. "Sorry I've been away for so long."
"Nonsense," his father answers as he claps him on the back. Hard. It takes Ivy by surprise. Makes him smile. His father lets him go. "Honey, Ivy's here! He brought his guests!"
He speaks in Welsh. Leaves the others in the dark. But Ivy can hear Alys then. Quietly translating to his soon-to-be packmates.
His teeth ache from love. From want. His fingers twitch. Feel empty without their hands against his own.
There's a commotion in the kitchen, followed moments later by dainty, determined steps. Ivy's heart aches as his dad nudges him forward. His mother’s smiling face appears, carrying the familiar scent of freshly roasted marshmallows and cinnamon. A Beta, like his father, but one with a distinct scent all her own. Her gray hair is tucked back into a claw clip, blue eyes sparkling with warmth. She looks tired, but happy. Ecstatic. Over the moon.
Ivy only lived thirty minutes away before.
He should have visited more often. Stopped pride from preventing him from stepping foot in the door. Stopped being so ashamed.
"Mam," Ivy greets with a smile. She hurriedly takes off her flour-stained apron. Flinging it on the back of a nearby rocking chair before he gently brings her into his arms. "I missed you."
"I missed you, sweetie," she says, pressing her palms to his cheeks. "Look at you." Ivy grins, leaning into her familiar touch. His mom's eyes widen a fraction as she squeezes his cheeks before releasing him. Peering around him not a second later. "These must be those special fellows Alys was telling me about. Aren't you going to introduce us to them?"
"They only speak English," Ivy tells her, switching back into their shared language. She nods her head. Dusts her fingers off on her faded dress as she approaches them.
"Lucas," Vessel greets, extending out his hand.
Ivy blinks. The name doesn’t register. Not at first. Then it lands. Hits like a dropped weight to the chest.
Lucas....
"Aren't you a handsome one," his mother gushes. Foregoing the handshake entirely as she beckons Vessel down for a hug.
It strikes Ivy then. Hard. Vessel's early warning to him. The one that the singer himself has just undone.
“Our collective anonymity is non-negotiable. No names. No faces. No personal posts unless approved by us or management. You don't tell your mates our names, or even your own mum.”
"Aren't you precious?!" His mother cackles, and Ivy snaps back into reality. Watches her pull a blushing II into her embrace, giggling as she rocks the drummer back and forth. "Toby, was it? No wonder my son is so smitten with you! You're breath taking."
Toby....
Ivy never asked their names. Respected Vessel's wishes. Got to know them as they were. As whom they wanted to be. Accepted them for it. Just as they accepted Ivy for who he was. Accepted him as IV.
His throat feels tight as his father claps Vessel on the back. Balking at the singer's height. At his stature. At his very nature. Loudly proclaiming that he thought Dominant Alphas were a thing of myth and legend. An old wife’s tale. His father never believed in a thing that he couldn't see for himself first. With his own two eyes.
"Finley," III introduces with a lopsided grin as his mother releases II and stands on her tip toes. Demanding a hug from III that he's all too happy to give.
Finley....
Ivy has to turn away. Duck into the kitchen. Hang his head over the sink as he turns the leaky faucet on.
He doesn't cry. He's never been a crier.
But it's the closest he's come since he was a child.
Outside the kitchen, his worlds collide. Meld into one. Harmonize.
He can have it all, he realizes. Both his family, and his new one, too.
"You okay?"
A warm hand finds its way to his back. Grounds him. Ivy breathes in the fire. The smell of the forest.
He nods, wordless, and shuts off the faucet.
Let’s himself be drawn into III’s waiting arms.
The embrace doesn’t need words.
It feels like his childhood walls. Like love. Like safety.
It feels like home.
-
The house is filled with the sound of laughter. With joy.
Vessel helps Ivy's father lift a particularly heavy box out the front door and into the waiting moving truck. III sits on the couch alongside Evan. Strumming notes on Ivy's first guitar as his brother asks him questions about the chords. Just like Evan used to do with Ivy when he was much, much younger. Alys and II speak softly in the corner. His sister smiles brightly as she runs her hands over her stomach before gently elbowing II, urging him to do the same.
Ivy feels overcome as he watches them. Tidies up another crooked picture frame that a moving box unintentionally clipped on its way out the door.
His mother sings a vibrant tune as she works tirelessly in the kitchen, preparing them a meal. Refusing any and all help. Insisting it was easier for her to do the work herself.
A car's engine shuts off in the driveway as Vessel and Ivy's father re-enter the home. Ivy smiles, affectionately brushes past them both as he stands in the propped open doorway. Jack grins the second he spots him. Slams the car door and takes the steps two at a time. Ivy pulls him into a tight embrace. Slams his eyes shut.
Jack. His lifeline during the in-between moments in his life. Back when Ivy didn’t know if he’d ever sing again. If anything he did was worth it. Back when home was a spare couch and a chipped mug of tea in Jack’s flat. Back when he'd been too ashamed to go home broke and empty handed. Before Ieuan. Before his crumbling flat. Back when Ivy was young and naive about the ways of their world. Jack. The same friend who has always had his back, well before Ivy learned to have his own.
Ivy lets himself simply feel. Feel all of it.
The happiness. The sadness. The gratitude. The changing of times. The things that remain constant throughout.
"Thank you," Ivy tells him. Claps him on the back harder as Jack nods against him. "For everything, mate. I couldn't ask for a better friend."
"Well, you could," Jack laughs, as they gradually part. "But you'd be hard pressed to find one, I'd say."
Ivy chuckles, nodding along in agreement.
"Bruv, you look great," Jack says sincerely. "Can't remember the last time you looked this happy. I'm bloody proud of you."
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Ivy admits with a slight nod. Scent curling around him, even if the Beta can't sense it. "You helped get me here. I haven't forgotten. I never will."
"You're giving me too much credit," Jack answers with a dismissive sound, waving his hand languidly. He grins a moment later, wiggling his eyebrows. "You gonna introduce me to them?"
"Yeah," Ivy replies with another heartfelt smile. Stepping to the side as he waves him into the bustling house. "II's sitting with Alys. III's teaching Evan how to play a song. Vessel is... helping tad move stuff."
"Stubborn old man," Jack chuckles, nodding. Ivy follows after him. Beams with delight as his father carefully sets down another box and greets Jack with a shout and a warm hug.
If Ivy squints just right, it almost feels like no time has passed at all.
-
The dining room table is loud with laughter and clinking plates.
The leaf has been added to it. Extending it. Making space for everyone, and leaving room open for Gareth to join them when his shift at the factory is over. Mam insisted on using the good dishes. The floral ones inherited from her mother that Ivy and Alys were never allowed to touch growing up. The roast isn't falling apart like it should be, and the bread is slightly burnt on one side, but no one says a word. They eat like royalty. Feast on the spread of dishes laid out before them. The ones Ivy already snuck two hundred quid into his tad's old leather wallet for.
Vessel cuts meat into small, polite pieces while his father recounts some old tale about Ivy crashing his bike into a wheelie bin. III nearly chokes laughing, something Ivy snorts at. Evan offers corrections from across the table. Waving his hand to get their attention. Alys glows with happiness. Jack compliments the food, gesturing at it wildly with his fork.
II sits between Alys and Ivy, his head tilted toward her as she quietly tells him how far along she is. He listens with such focused gentleness that something in Ivy's chest aches. II's eyes are wide with interest. Pale blue, twin oceans following every movement of her hands as she rubs her belly once more. Ivy stabs at a potato with his fork. Distracting himself from it. Giving II his quiet moment of instinctual want without fanfare.
His mother beams at him when he catches her eye. She reaches across the table to top off II’s plate, even though he’s barely halfway through what’s already there. Then, she opens her mouth and speaks.
“Well now, sweetheart,” she says kindly to II, her voice lilting like it always does when she’s being tender. "Have you got any pups of your own back home? Or are you still deciding whose you want first? I'm not sure how your pack works. Pardon me if I'm being rude.”
It’s light. Innocent. Warm.
But the entire table falls silent.
II’s spoon pauses at his lips.
Vessel goes still. Brown eyes darting to II. Filled with sorrow. With longing, and silent apology.
Ivy watches as II’s lashes lower slowly. Sees the sharp inhale he tries to hide in his chest. He puts a hand on the drummer's knee. Hopes it grounds him. Hopes it's enough.
“No pups,” II answers, voice soft but steady. He shrugs his shoulders. “Not yet.”
“Well," his mother smiles like it’s the most natural answer in the world. "You’re still young. Lovely as you are, you’ll have your hands full soon enough. In the meantime, you'll have your hands full with these adoring mates of yours. Ivy's lucky to have you.”
Alys gives their mother a look. Subtle. But warning. Still, she doesn’t notice. She’s already turned her attention back to the carrots.
II's smile returns, but it’s not as genuine as it once was. He busies himself with his napkin. Doesn’t speak again. Only quietly eats his food. What was left of his first portion. And the second, too. Ivy rubs soothing circles into his skin. Let's his scent wash over II's carefully constrained own. Shares a glance with III. Sees the quiet hurt in his eyes as the bassist nods along to something his father says. Jack loudly offers them a distraction, telling them about how much rain they've gotten recently.
Vessel watches II like a hawk.
III eventually reaches across the table without a word and refills II’s glass. A small, innocuous gesture. But one steeped in care.
"Sorry," Ivy whispers under his breath as II's eyes meet his own.
"Don't be," II says with an upturn of his lips. Unlike before, it isn't forced. Genuine. Soft. "She clearly didn't mean anything by it."
"She didn't," Ivy assures him with a nod, smiling. II finishes his freshly poured drink and takes to leaning his cheek against Ivy's shoulder. Their fingers join under the table. II's hands are warm against his. The drummer's scent gradually returns to the air. Not overbearing, so as to avoid scenting his parent's home unintentionally, but steadily present.
The conversation around them picks up again like nothing ever happened.
Vessel's eyes soften once more. Dark brown fading to caramel as he and Jack laugh over something Alys says. III and Ivy's parents are engrossed in a deep conversation about the current state of affairs with the Royal family. Evan sneaks his phone onto the table, the one that Ivy means to replace, and texts someone a photo of the food. And Ivy... sits there, quiet. II leaning against his side. Breathing him in. Basking in his warmth.
"I love you," Ivy says sincerely as he lays his head atop II's own.
"I love you too," II murmurs. Closing his pretty eyes as Ivy meets Vessel gaze. Then III's.
They smile.
Ivy smiles back.
-
When dinner concludes, and only Gareth sits with a microwaved plate in front of him, Vessel pulls Ivy aside.
"III asked me to check on you," Vessel whispers as he guides Ivy out of the front door. Out into the brisk night air. The porch light flickers. Bugs chirp in the distance. The rain continues to drizzle. Smacking against the tin roof above them. "He said your emotions have been all over the place since we got here."
"They have been," Ivy confesses as he reaches into his pocket. Pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter. Lighting one before he breathes out a cloud of gray smoke through his nostrils. "It's a lot to take in. Being here. Seeing my family. Saying... goodbye."
"Not goodbye," Vessel reminds him as he comes to stand beside him. Leaning over the crooked banister. He snorts, half-expecting the whole thing to give way. Vessel raises a brow. "You can come back here anytime, Ivy. We're not going to keep you prisoner. Not on the road. Not at home either."
"It's hard for me to imagine it, but..." Ivy starts, takes a hit off his cigarette. Exhales slowly. Let’s it mingle with his scent. Just the way II said that he didn't mind it. "A few days from now, we'll be...."
"A pack," Vessel finishes for him. Smiles. Wolfish teeth glinting in the flickering light.
"A pack," Ivy repeats. Grinning, too. Blushing. Excited. Nervous. Eager.
"I'm... really happy that you still want that," Vessel confesses. Grinning sheepishly. A rare look on the usually confident Alpha's face.
"I love you," Ivy reminds him as he leans against him. Smoke filtering through his nose as Vessel lets out a shaky exhale.
"I love you too," Vessel returns easily in spite of his earlier tension. "II told me something funny when you were in the kitchen talking with Gareth and Jack."
"What did he say?" Ivy inquires, already smiling.
"He said, and I quote, ‘If my stomach ever moved like Alys’, I’d kill whichever of you put that thing in me.’" Vessel laughs, and Ivy shakes his head with a fond groan.
"Yeah," Ivy chuckles. "That sounds like II."
"II has a good hold over his Omega," Vessel says as his laughter quiets down. "He indulges our instinctual wants, but neither one of us is ready for that kind of life. III’s even further from it. He’s so tuned into emotions and human nature, I think he’d worry too much. But he’d make a great parent. Probably always knows exactly why a baby’s crying."
"III would make a killing as a psychic," Ivy grunts around his cigarette. Something Vessel giggles at, nodding along. "All jokes aside, that kind of life isn't for me either. Not yet at least. I've been enjoying this too much. The open road. The shows. The time with the three of you."
"II was right," Vessel chuckles deeply. "You really are a smooth talker."
"It's the truth," Ivy shrugs as Vessel's arm shifts. Snakes around his waist. Holding him close. Smoke dances in the rain. Vessel's and nature's, too.
Before either of them can say more, the front door creaks open behind them. Jack steps out onto the porch. The hood of his windbreaker pulled up, protecting him against the drizzle. He eyes them both with a mischievous grin and jerks his head toward the street.
"You two done being all soppy?" Jack laughs, something Ivy snorts at as his friend wiggles his brows. "I’ve got a mind to take you boys to Gethin’s. Bit of a proper sendoff, yeah?”
“Pub’s still open?” Ivy raises a brow, his cigarette burning low between his fingers. Ash fluttering in the slight breeze.
“It’s Friday night,” Jack shrugs. “The place will be packed ‘til close. But I already called ahead. Figured you'd be keen. Plus, I told Gethin that you were back in town. He’s reserving the back booth for us.”
Vessel looks at Ivy, shrugging.
"III’d be excited,” Vessel says with a nod. “And II wouldn’t take much convincing.”
"Fuck it," Ivy says as he stubs the cigarette out against the crooked banister. Flicks the remains into the gravel, where the rain has pooled. “I’m already packed. Mam and Tad are probably going to bed soon. Evan’s going to be crashing at a mate’s later. And Alys and Gareth are heading out here shortly.”
“Perfect recipe for a little fun then,” Jack claps his hands together. "Ready to go when you lads are."
Ivy grins as he slips from Vessel's grasp, heading for the door with the other two following behind him. His goodbyes for the night are simple ones. A hug for his sister and her husband, a hand resting gently on her belly. A hair ruffle for his brother. A thunderous hug from his exhausted father. A hug and a kiss from his mother as she grabs his cheeks and tells him to behave. Something that draws a laugh from everyone in the room.
Ivy doesn't know what else he expected to come home to. His family has always been this way. Loving. Hard working. Supportive.
They don't talk about the money he gave them for the mortgage, but he can see gratitude in their eyes. They don't talk about how he sent Evan enough money to go buy himself a new phone after dinner was over. They don’t talk about any of that stuff. Not even about the people he's brought home with him. No prying questions about how it all works. No disbelief. Only acceptance, and welcoming. The comfort of familial love.
He's lucky to have them. To be able to do something he could never do for them before.
Provide.
"Ready to go?" Jack asks as they gather their coats and converge at the door. Their bags are still in the truck where all of Ivy's meager possessions, including his first guitar, are neatly packed away.
"Let's do it," Ivy answers, playfully pushing Jack onto the porch while the others trail behind him.
"Follow me," Jack calls as he makes a run for his car. "Got too much shit in my car for the lot of you. You take the truck!"
"Parking is going to be a bitch," II grumbles, shrugging as they make for the truck.
"There's a decent sized lot," Ivy exclaims as he ducks inside the passenger seat. III shakes like a dog when he climbs in, spattering water all over Ivy in the process. Forces a chuckle out of him and a playful swat from II. Vessel snickers.
"Ouch!" III gasps, feigning pain. II scoffs, scooting in further as Vessel shuts the door behind him. "Buckle up, loves. The roads are slick."
They do as III asks before settling in. II leans his head against the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. Ivy listens as the drummer hums along to whatever song drifts low through the radio. Vessel collapses against II's side, sighing contently. III keeps his eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel. Ivy drums his fingers against his knee. Nerves. Excitement. Anticipation. All curling in his gut.
It’s a short drive to Gethin’s. The pub glows warm and golden through the drizzle as they pull into the parking lot. Familiar faces gather beneath the awning. Some laughing, some lighting smokes, others huddled close together for warmth. It smells like hops and distant cigarette smoke. Nostalgic, even if it’s only been a few months away, it's still the longest he's ever been away from home.
Inside, Gethin himself greets them with open arms. A large, affable man with a dark beard and a rugby build. Steady as a cornerstone. He's always looked good for his age. Leans on the younger side, even though he's pushing fifty. Gethin claps Ivy on the back like he’s never left. Leads them to the reserved booth in the back, where the lights are low and the noise is slightly muted.
"Welcome home, mate," Gethin grins as Ivy sits down beside III. "This the new pack that you run with?"
"Yeah," Ivy confirms with a fond smile. Meeting the older Alpha's gaze. A Warden Alpha. Service minded. Boundary setting. Humble, but powerful. The respectable sort. Ivy has always liked Gethin. Admired his steadfastness. His work ethic, and his steady presence. One look at Gethin now tells him everything that he needs to know.
Gethin likes them already. II, III, and Vessel.
"You're a bit of a fucking monster, ain't ya'?" Gethin cracks a joke, pointing his pen at Vessel. The singer smiles, shows a bit of teeth. The scent of rain curls around them. Entirely pleased. "Keep this one close by. Though from the looks of it, you already are. Ivy's a good lad. Strong as a fuckin' ox, and loyal as anythin'."
"That he is," Vessel hums, his scent radiating an air of smugness. Ivy blushes, averts his eyes as Jack cackles across from him.
"All right, lads. What can I get you lot to drink? Omega's first, of course," Gethin asks, waving his pen around languidly.
II shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip as he flushes.
"Get me what Ivy usually drinks," II answers, a small smile on his pretty lips.
"That swill will put ya' on yer arse. Be careful there," Gethin laughs, writing the order down.
The mood is light, relaxed. Everything it used to be when Ivy would come here. The day's events played out perfectly. He sits quietly, watching Jack laugh with the pack. The past and future, side by side. And for once, Ivy doesn’t feel caught between them.
But the air shifts soon enough.
Jack's smile fades first. His brows draw together. His head tilts.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake," Jack grumbles, grabbing his pint.
Gethin turns toward the door at the same time Ivy does.
Their eyes lock on to the same figure. Lock on to Owen.
He stands in the pub’s entryway like he owns the place. Damp from the rain. Leather jacket slick with water. Blond hair slicked back. His jaw set. His mouth already turned downward in a scowl. His scent cuts through the warmth of the room like a sour note. Pungent. Like citrus cleaner and floor wax. Ivy has always hated that about him, but never had the heart to tell him.
Ivy hates a lot of things about Owen, in hindsight. Hates how he used to think they were similar because Owen is a Sentinel, the closest thing he's ever met to another Guardian. Hates how Owen constantly demands respect but never gives any. Hates how he sees threats that aren't present. Hates how he sees Ivy's success as a threat to himself. Hates how little self-control he has. How little he cares for the people around him, like his poor Beta girlfriend who will never be enough for him.
There’s a reason they were only ever bandmates. Loose friends, at best. They never called themselves a pack.
They never could.
Ivy’s gut twists. He doesn’t move. Not yet. But Gethin is already moving. Grumbling under his breath as he wipes a hand on his apron. Tucking his pen and pad away with the other.
“Owen,” Gethin calls across the pub. Not shouting. He doesn’t need to yell. His voice is the kind that people listen to. “You’ve had your fill. You’ve been cut off for the night. I love you like a nephew, but you best get goin' now."
“I’m not here to drink,” Owen snaps. His gaze lands on Ivy’s table. On the pack. On Jack.
“Then you’ve got even less reason to stick 'round," Gethin replies coldly. He puts himself between Owen and the booth without hesitation. Ivy has always admired Gethin’s willingness to act and maintain order. It was no wonder he looked up to him when he was younger, he muses.
“You can’t send me home,” Owen barks. Scent flaring. Filling the air. No blocker on. No control over himself. III grimaces. Vessel's nose crinkles. II gags. Ivy doesn't give Owen the satisfaction of reacting.
“No,” Gethin concedes. “But I can keep you out of my pub. Now get gone, lad. Before you make a mess you’ll regret.”
There’s a beat of tense silence.
Then Owen’s eyes lock on Ivy’s.
And stay there.
"Gethin, let me talk to him," Ivy breathes out as he slips out of the booth, holding Owen's gaze. The room around them is quiet as Owen approaches. Tense. On edge. Ivy can sense II's unease in the air. Feels Harmony woven into it, but II can’t solve this problem.
Not when there was already hate between them. Not when Owen would refuse to accept the olive branch II offered.
"Keep it civil, lads," Gethin tells them both, not asking. Ivy nods as Gethin steps aside, allowing Owen to step in closer.
"Didn't think you'd come back here, Ivy. I was surprised to see you walk in the door," Owen scoffs. He looks unwell, tired. But bitterness clings to his scent and demeanor like a second skin.
“I’m just visiting,” Ivy replies evenly, holding the older Alpha’s gaze. "That's all."
“Right,” Owen mutters, eyes flicking to II and III across the booth. Then to Jack, before finally falling on Vessel. Owen postures. It isn't a good look on him. Ivy's Alpha grumbles to life. Unnerved. Chest puffing. Head tilting back. He'll owe II an apology later, he thinks. II could step between them. Dispel the tension through sheer force. But III's arm cages the little Omega in. Owen isn't familiar to them. Isn't someone they'd let II around. Not someone Ivy would let II around either. “See you brought the whole fucking band with you, too.”
Jack shifts, uneasy. III tightens his hand around II’s where it rests on the table. Vessel remains completely still.
“That I did,” Ivy chuffs, nostrils flaring.
“Guess some people are just better at riding other people’s talent to the top," Owen grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Whatever happened to you being tired of selling someone else's dream?"
“I’m not doing this with you tonight,” Ivy says. Eyes narrowed. Hands clenched into fists. “Not here. Not now. I've said my peace to you already. You should take Gethin's advice. Go home, Owen. This isn't worth it.”
“Of course you'd say that,” Owen sneers, taking a step forward. “Never were good at taking the blame for anything. You told me to fuck off over a misunderstanding and blocked me. Three fucking years of my life spent making music with you, and you drop me just like that? You think blocking me erases all the nights we built our goddamn dream in a freezing van? You're a fucking coward."
Ivy’s jaw clenches. His scent flares, sharp and bitter, flooding the air.
II rises beside III. Caged between the Empath and Jack on the other side of the circular booth. II reaches forward like he wants to touch Ivy’s wrist. Ground him. But III’s hands clamp gently but firmly on II’s arm, halting him. The Empath’s frame trembles with tension as he stops him. Out of the corner of Ivy's eye, he sees Vessel. Watches the Dominant Alpha set his jaw. Feels his presence swelling in the room like an imminent monsoon. It should be enough to stop the bickering. Enough to silence the room.
But Owen, predictably, naively, keeps going.
“I mean, look at you,” he spits, his scent mingling with the whiskey on his breath. “You gonna bend over for the tough guy on the end there? The one eyeballing me like I give a shit about what he is? Throw everything we worked so hard for away just to be another one of his pack whores?"
Owen points at the pack. Steps closer. Then, shuffles closer again. Closer to the table. Closer to his pack. Owen moves again, brushing angrily past Ivy’s shoulder. Enough to sidestep him, close enough to reach out and grab someone. Close enough to reach II.
That’s all that it takes.
Too close, his Alpha growls.
Ivy's Alpha acts. He doesn't think. His body only moves. Responds to instinct. Responds to the threat. Faster than anyone expects. Faster than Owen can process.
His fist connects with Owen’s face. Once. Twice. The second time, Owen goes down hard. Hits the floor like a sack of bricks. His head cracks against the floorboards. Blood spatters Ivy’s knuckles. His vision narrows. Hones in on the threat before him. His Alpha sings with pride. Owen doesn't look like such a threat now. Sprawled out, bleeding. Growling through gurgles of his own blood. Owen's scent is laced with notes of distress. Sour like stagnant mop water. Ivy's nose crinkles as he raises his fist again. His Alpha not quite satisfied. Not until the threat lies still and silent. No longer a danger. No longer seen.
The crowd gasps. Someone shouts a warning. Gethin barks out something from behind the bar. But Ivy’s not done. Not yet. Blood pumps in his ears. His skin stings where it splits. He's never been this angry before. Not like this. Not frothing at the mouth. Not just as enraged as his Alpha is. It's easy to give into it when he lacks the clarity he usually possesses.
Sit back, let instinct do as it pleases. As it dictates. As his Alpha demands of him.
Someone insulted his pack. Someone threatened his pack.
His.
He’s breathing hard, looming over Owen's bleeding face. He's always been strong. His Alpha is even stronger. Amber hangs heavy in the air. Leather settles even heavier. He raises his fist again; lips peeled back into a snarl.
A hand grips his wrist.
At first, he jerks away. Doesn’t even know who’s holding him. Ready to strike again. Then Vessel’s domineering scent slams into him. Heavy. Deeply instinctual. His vision swims, then clears. Pack Alpha. The scent of a storm above the raging sea crashes into him. But rather than destroy him, it grounds. His knees nearly give. The world spins beneath his feet when Vessel turns him around.
The Dominant Alpha's grip is absurdly strong. Stronger than it's ever been. Stronger than the alleyway. Stronger than the venue grounds.
Unyielding. Immovable. Final.
“Ivy,” Vessel snarls, firm. Low. Commanding. The weight of a pack leader. A Dominant Alpha in full. Vessel pulls him back. Growls that inhuman sound that he made on the festival grounds. Nuzzles into him, eating away at the edge. At the anger. The instinct. The consumption of his conscious thought. "That's enough. No more."
Vessel doesn't ask. He commands.
Ivy freezes. Blinks. Feels it the second that he comes back to himself. Back to his senses.
Owen’s still on the floor. The crowd is still watching. His hand still throbs.
II pushes past Jack, tugging at III's arm. III’s right behind him, hands shaking. II grips Ivy’s face in his palms, eyes wide and brimming. Searching. Desperate.
“You’re bleeding,” II says, like he’s heartbroken. “Ivy, fuck... your hands. Fuck, I... I need a rag, or something.”
"We'll take care of that later. We're leaving," III tells them, not giving them room to process anything. Thinking clearly. Thinking for them. Acting on it. Gethin rushes past them, snorting something like I fuckin' warned you to Owen. Ivy barely hears him.
III’s already steering them toward the door. The crowd parts. Jack shouts something about calling Ivy later. Ivy blinks through the daze, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his hands throbbing. Vessel's hands clamped around his shoulder. II's warm fingers laced with his own. Pulling him. The night air hits like a slap across his flushed cheeks. Cool and wet.
"I'm driving," Vessel announces, his tone filled with grit.
“Vessel, love, let…” III’s words taper off, cut short as Vessel’s scent flares sharply.
Ivy shudders. II whines quietly. III's breaths are soft and uneven.
"I'm driving," Vessel says again with finality, and there is no room for argument in that.
III nods stiffly, trading places with him. Slips an arm around Ivy as II drags them all into the backseat bench in the moving truck. Ivy collapses into II's side. Mumbles apologies into his damp coat as II smooths his hair back. Shushing him softly. Scent curling around him. Thick lavender fields. Slightly too spiced vanilla. Honey sticky with the sting of an angry hive. III leans over them both, laying his weight on Ivy’s back. His Alpha grumbles, smells the fire and cedarwood, then promptly ceases its griping.
The moving truck rumbles to life. Carries them away as II takes Ivy's injured hand. Pulls a wince from him that the little Omega promptly kisses away, lips pressing against Ivy's brow. III kisses his cheeks, nuzzling into his skin. Ivy allows himself to be held. He tries not to think about the way his teeth are chattering. About the way his limbs are shaking. About how his heart beats so quickly it feels liable to burst out of his chest.
His eyes catch the street signs as he glances sideways out of the window. They pass Ivy’s old street. The one home to the house where he grew up. Where his mother and father likely slept now. Where Evan had likely left in favor of going to a friend's. Where Alys and Gareth had likely locked up before heading up the street towards their own abode.
Ivy's eyes flit between the driver's seat and the empty passenger's seat. To where the golden streetlights cast a glow on Vessel's tense shoulders. The Dominant Alpha’s hands shake as they grip the steering wheel. Holding it so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“Where are we going?” Ivy asks, his voice gruff and hoarse.
Vessel doesn’t answer him. Not right away.
The Dominant Alpha glances at him in the rearview. Eyes dark. Possessive. Protective.
“Home,” Vessel says simply.
And Ivy realizes then they aren’t going back to his family. They’re going to theirs. To London. To the house marked as Vessel's territory. To where III's scent lines the walls and garden. To where II's real nest awaits. To where Vessel deems it safe.
To where he now belongs.
Ivy's eyes drift close, knowing that the next time that he opens them, it will be to the sight of his new home. II hums a quiet song. A soft, rhythmic tune. It forces the tension out of his shoulders. Slows the restless pacing of his Alpha, letting it slumber. Allowing Ivy to slumber, too.
Against II's rumbling chest, Ivy mumbles a goodbye to the only home he's ever known.
Cardiff.
Notes:
Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Light angst. Domestic fluff to the highest order. Big emotions. Big instincts. Minor depiction of violence. A little hurt/comfort.
Obviously, all names are fake. Characters here are based on stage personas/costumes, not the actual people behind them.
Vessel = Lucas
II = Toby
III = Finley
IV = Ivy (lmao)See you all in a few days for Act 2. o7
Chapter 12: Lensflare
Summary:
Chapter Warnings contain spoilers and will be posted in the end notes. Also, this chapter marks the start of Act II. It is not the end of the fic, and I won't be posting a new fic to start act II. We just resume here, on the same fic.
Rating has been updated. Heed that and tags, as always.
Notes:
This is a long one, about 7.5k words. Also, an absolutely massive shout-out to ghostsvessel for helping me brainstorm a little bit with one of these scenes! I appreciate you! <3
I will be responding to all the comments left a bit later tonight when I get back from a prior commitment. Thank you all sooooo very much for the amazing support on this fic. It means so much to me.
Also, a reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis). Feel free to add me! :)
Not beta-read. Please pardon any errors!
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Ivy, we're home."
Ivy creaks his tired eyes open. Breathes in II and III's distinct scents as someone, III, rubs circles between his shoulder blades. He carefully sits up. The first thing he sees is II’s beautiful eyes, wide and tired, but watching him closely. It hits him, slowly. He’d passed out in the little Omega’s arms. His head pillowed against II’s chest. Cradled like something precious in the drummer's embrace.
Home.
Ivy turns his head slowly, gazes at the darkly lit house like it's the first time that he's seen it. The outside light is on. The wraparound porch is illuminated by a warm, golden glow. Inside, a few lights remain on. Something done intentionally. Something done to allude to someone being present even if there wasn't.
Vessel is a blur of motion through the truck's window. The Dominant Alpha is already bounding up the house's steps before he unlocks the door and storms inside. The others are slower to exit. Untangling from one another. III emerges first, guiding Ivy by his sore arms while II gently nudges him along.
"Let's get you inside," III says, exhausted. "I'll take you to the kitchen and clean up those cuts."
"Vessel's going to mess up my scent-work," II sighs, shaking his head. His blond hair falls in messy angles, frizzed at the edges from the Welsh rain. "Guess it was going to change anyway."
"You'll fix it just right, little love," III all but coos towards II.
Ivy frowns and bows his head. Huffing out a breath of hot air as they climb the steps to the porch. He knows that Vessel's instinctual reactions are his doing. That II's homecoming is being affected by his actions. That III's exhaustion is no fault but Ivy's own. The instincts have already boiled over. Their emotions are already running too high. The day's events wear on them all.
"I'm really sorry," Ivy says earnestly. Ears burning. Cheeks burning even more. His ears twinge red. Sweat forms on his palms. His aching hands shake as III tugs him along.
"None of that now," III replies immediately. His usually calm cadence taken over by seriousness. Ivy raises his head. Meets the Empath's gaze. Sees the same intensity in his glimmering blue-green eyes. "We don't apologize for our instincts. Not in this pack. Not in this household."
"Our household," II grunts, looking over his shoulder as he side steps them. His sole visible eye shimmers. Golden light dancing over pale blue, haloing it. He looks like an angel even with his lips pressed into a scowl, Ivy thinks as he nods. Grumbling an apology for his previous one under his breath as II pauses in the open doorway. The little Omega shudders. "III... I don't know if we're going to get through to Ve tonight. At least, not like we usually can."
Ivy doesn't understand what II means, not until he gets inside his new home.
The walls drip with the smell of freshly fallen rain. Every furnishing, every wall, soaked in Vessel's prominent scent. It's as if the Dominant Alpha carved his name onto every centimeter of the beautiful, quaint abode. Marking it as his once more with feral ferocity as if the walls had forgotten who they belonged to in his absence.
"Buy us a little time, doll?" III chuckles as II sighs softly. Ivy's lip twitch upward as the bassist gently guides him through the entryway before he quietly shuts the door. Ivy listens as the lock clicks into place. Breathing in the heady scent of sea and storm as II shifts his weight.
"I'll do my best. Go get that taken care of," II tells them as he nods his head towards a nearby archway.
"You're the best kind of distraction," II says through a lopsided grin.
II rolls his pretty eyes as he pads down the entryway. Disappearing down the corner not a moment later. Ivy listens as thunderous steps sound from somewhere in the warmly lit home. But II's quiet voice halts them. The scent of lavender nearly drowned out entirely by the intensity of the scent of storm clouds.
"Come on, love," III urges him as he steps forward.
Ivy follows III into the kitchen without comment. His Alpha paces under his skin. Overwhelmed. Ridden with lingering guilt. Stinging with pain in spite of his recent success in his task. But III's fiery scent cuts through the tension. Warms him and grounds him.
Ivy finds that aspect of his relationship with III the most fascinating. Their Alphas have nothing to gain from one another but recognize the other as a place of refuge. Of safety. Of welcoming and equal footing. Ivy reaches for III then. Guides his head down to nuzzle him and take away the lingering tension in the bassist's shoulders.
III grumbles against him but scents him back automatically.
"Come here," III mumbles into his neck as they stagger backwards. Ivy's back hits the countertop. And even though the moment is innocent, heat stirs low in his belly. His cock twitches where it brushes III’s thigh. The Empath only chuckles. Places a kiss on his skin before they part. Ivy lets out a shuddered breath then. Offering out his bruised and scraped hands as III wets a rag in the nearby kitchen sink before approaching him once more.
"III," Ivy exhales as the bassist presses the damp rag to his split skin. "I... know what’s going to happen tonight. I need you to walk me through this like you promised me."
III doesn’t answer right away. Just wrings the cloth out again. Replaces it with clean pressure.
“Yeah, Vess is... going to want this... you, like right now," III murmurs. Ivy's breath hitches. Their eyes meet. "Are you... still okay with that? With all this?"
Ivy's Alpha rumbles, unsure. His heartbeat quickens. The cloth stings his cuts as he swallows thickly. His mouth feels dry as he speaks.
"Yeah," he confirms, licking his lips.
"You have to trust him," III says, his voice gravely serious. "He's out of sorts right now, focused on making this place feel safe for us. For you. He always comes in running hot the first night back. Usually coddles II into the nest and showers the two of us in affection. But right now, he's trying to figure out what he needs to do for you. To make sure you know that he wants you here. Wants you his."
His Alpha snarls low instinctively. Naturally unsettled by the idea of being taken. But his body and mind are already at peace with the idea. His skin already warming at the thought of Vessel's hands on him. There’s no fear, not of Vessel. Just the unknown. And the requirement of simply letting go. His Alpha breathes in the air through him. Recognizes. Reconciles. Remembers.
Pack Alpha.
“I trust him,” Ivy murmurs, voice low as III's eyes soften. “I do.”
"He would rather die than hurt you," III tells him with nothing short of sincerity. Words that bring a small smile to Ivy's lips. He feels the same. He knows that they all do. "Your instincts, how they react to his, it might not be the same as mine were. But… Vessel had me clearly tell him that I wanted him beforehand. I didn't understand, at first, why that was necessary."
III's scent curls around him, forestry and smoldering embers. Ivy lets it settle. In his nose. In his mind. Wants to taste it on his tongue.
"But you already know that I feel things more intensely than the three of you do," III explains as he tosses the rag in the sink. Ivy watches the bassist make for the nearby cabinet. Mourns the loss of his presence and heat. His reassurance. But III is quick to return to his side, bandages in hand. Ivy offers him his sore, injured hands without hesitation. "Vessel laid me down gently and let me lie beside II. Then he climbed on top of me."
Ivy swallows thickly. Envisions that for himself. Let’s his Alpha process the promise of Vessel looming over him. Of II lying beside him. Of III helping him through the process. Of becoming claimed.
"Vessel had to pin me down the second that he leaned in," III laughs softly. Ivy's eyes widen as he looks at the bassist's face. But III isn't looking at him. Only bandaging his terribly shaky hands. Ivy sees the tremble in III's own, too. Feels it. "I couldn't help but tense up. Try to fight him off. I panicked. I trusted him completely, but my Alpha... didn't know what to make of it. Him and his. II hummed for me, and Vessel... kissed my neck and held me until I stopped trying to buck him off of me."
"Did you... calm down eventually?" Ivy asks, voice hoarse. III's fingers make quick work of Ivy's own. Covering the cuts. Dressing them in white.
"Sort of," III says with a small smile. Gaze still down turned as he takes Ivy's other hand in his own. "Fight and flight left me, but... freezing didn't. My Alpha was... scared, honestly. Thinking it was the end for me. For my autonomy. For my instincts. But Vessel... he's never been that way. Never will be. It's just... what you and I know, versus what our evolutionary traits don’t know. It's not the same thing, love."
Ivy breathes in deep as III bandages his other hand. Silence hangs between them then. Ivy processing. III mulling over his next words.
"When Vess finished soothing me as best he could," III continues, finishing his diligent work. Ivy lets out a shuddered breath as III brings his hands to his lips, kissing the dressed wounds. "He sank his teeth in me, low and deep. Just like I wanted him to. Instincts in that moment be damned,” III laughs. “It burned like hellfire. I might have screamed for a few minutes, but it wasn't just the pain. It was... him."
III's eyes are rife with love as he holds Ivy's shaking hands and raises his gaze.
"It felt like he had crawled under my skin," III huffs out a laugh. "Seen all the best and worst parts of me. Loved me anyway. It was addicting, the feeling. Like being seen by someone for the first time. Feeling that instant connection to them. The love you feel for him now, it'll... be so much more after. But again, you might not fight the way that I did. You’ve already let him in so much further than I had."
"Then... what happens?" Ivy asks, gripping III's hands tighter.
"I don't think I’ve ever talked this much about it. Not like this," III confesses with a shaky laugh.
"I'm... sorry if it's too much," Ivy says sincerely, but III merely shakes his head.
"No, it feels good to say it," III admits before he clears his throat and continues. "He'll let you mark him," he says through a fond smile. "You're going to want to sink your teeth into something, they'll ache for it. For him. But you... know that it's just something that he does out of love, Ivy. You're going to want more, always want more, but Vess... can't give us that. Not you. Not me. That blessing is something not made for us. That’s something purely for II."
"I... would like to think that those marks... yours and... soon to be mine," Ivy clears his throat. Overcome. His body trembling as III pulls him in a bit closer. "They mean something too, III. The same way that yours will... on my skin."
III's eyes water, tears clinging to his pretty lashes. Ivy wants to brush them away but doesn't. Holds III's hands tighter as the bassist leans down. Their foreheads rest against one another's. III's tears finding their way to Ivy's skin as they breathe in the comforting scent of each other.
"Vess first, then me," III tells him. Words Ivy always knew to be the case. Words that bring him excitement. Something more to look forward to. Being theirs. Them being his. "You and I can figure out the best way for ourselves, or just do what feels right."
"We'll do what feels right in the moment," Ivy muses as he nuzzles his nose against III's own. III laughs wetly in the space between them.
"Little love," III starts, sniffling. "You're going to be undone by him, Ivy. He's... so much more than words can describe. It's everything, you know? Giving your instincts and body what it wants so badly... an Omega. And II is just... the best."
"II is the reason I'm here right now," Ivy says with fondness from the memory. His heartbeat quickening as fresh tears fall from III's lengthy lashes and drip onto his cheeks. "Without him, without the imprint, I'd... be stuck in Cardiff. Stuck in a cycle of trying and failing. But now I... I have something to hold onto. People to come home to. I... I owe everything to that. To him."
"II loves you more than you could possibly know," III murmurs, kissing Ivy's brow. "We all do. We all want this more than anything."
Ivy's teeth chatter with nerves as he nods against him. Anxious. Eager. Processing. The feeling of caution. Of a new life. Of hope. Love. And every beautiful thing in between.
"II will take mercy on you the first time," III chuckles into the skin of his forehead. Warm lips ghosting over the dampness left behind. "Be all sweet with you. Let you have your way. Do what you need to do. Your Alpha needs that. And II’s Omega does, too."
"Afterward?" Ivy questions, feeling III smirk against him.
"He'll drive you wild in the best of ways," III tells him, and it sounds like a promise. Like he speaks from experience. "Wake you up just to rile you up. Climb into your lap when you're doing something and just... want to ride you." Ivy curses under his breath. Let’s III gently push him further back into the countertop. Feels his cock swell and twitch against III's leg as the bassist chuckles deeply.
"He's submissive when he wants to be sweet. And demanding when he wants to be in control," III grumbles huskily. Sends blood rushing further south as Ivy and his Alpha both give in to the surge of lust that courses under his skin. Runs through his veins. Clouds his thoughts. Blurs his vision. III's eyes are dilated when he presses his thigh further into Ivy's crotch. Makes him see stars. "I can't resist little love. Vessel can't either. Vessel may be this pack's leader but... in the bedroom, when it's all of us together, II is the one with the real power."
"Fucking hell," Ivy breathes out as III softly giggles.
"You're sure you don't need time to get settled? II can handle Vess tonight, but..." III trails off, biting his lower lip. Ivy moans as his cock strains against his blood stained pants. Ruts slightly against III's thigh. Desperate for more friction. "You want this as much as we do, don't you?"
"I don't need time to settle," Ivy growls in spite of himself. Overcome by desire. Put off by the notion that he'd have to continue to wait. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
But III doesn't have time to answer him before Vessel's scent rains down on them. Scours every corner of the room as II leads the Dominant Alpha into the kitchen by the hand.
II's eyes are dialed in on them. Focusing on where Ivy's hips move in the space between the counter and III's thigh. Vessel's eyes are... dark. Black. Animalistic. Wild. Primal. Ivy's Alpha shudders. Thinks of danger. But remembers safety.
"Ivy," Vessel rumbles, deep and gravelly. Ivy bites his bottom lip to stifle the sound that tries to escape him. III smiles, backing off of him slowly.
Ivy watches, entranced, as Vessel lets go of II's hand and confidently saunters forward. The moment that Vessel crowds into his space, pressing him against the counter once again, Ivy growls. He can't help the sound. Can't help the sudden flare of instinct. But Vessel merely chuckles, his voice dark. Taken by his Alpha. Consumed by its and the singer's own combined lust. By instinct. By want. By love.
"We're home now. You’re safe here," Vessel shushes him, lips grazing over Ivy's brow. He shudders violently. Snarls as Vessel's hands seize his, gently pinning them to the countertop that he grips. "Look at me, Guardian."
Everything boiled down to this moment.
Every instinct listened to. Every instinct curbed. Every stolen glance. Every appreciative one. Every brush of their hands against his own. Every pair of lips that met his own. Every night spent under the scented blankets in II's nest. Every night spent alone on someone else’s couch. Every note that they played on stage alongside one another. Every chord that Ivy's ever written on his own. Every meaningful moment spent alongside them, courting them. Every pointless relationship that never went everywhere. Every swell of love in his chest. Every broken heart that came before him.
Ivy breathes in deep.
Inhales. Exhales.
Chooses.
Because it doesn't have to be what his body wants. It doesn't have to be what his instincts demand either.
It's what Ivy has chosen for himself.
He looks up.
Finds Vessel's pretty, dark eyes with his own. Twin oceans blown wide, darkness pooling in the center. Melting into endless black. Body softening under Vessel's touch. Tension leaving him. Instinct silenced. Eyes trailing downward, landing on sharp teeth. A gorgeous, wolfish smile.
"I want you," Ivy says with conviction, stealing Vessel's breath. Smiling when the singer's fangs part. When his tongue flicks their sharp edges. When Vessel's dark eyes zero in on his bare neck. When the singer gently squeezes his injured hands, running his thumbs over the bandages.
Vessel picks him up as if he weighs nothing.
His Alpha grumbles, buried deep inside himself by the weight of his wants as Ivy chuckles and throws his arms around Vessel's neck. He lets himself feel it. The fear. The uncertainty. The trust. The want. The love that pulses between them. The house around him is a blur. Dark colors, emerald green walls. Matte. Muted. The golden light is vibrant. Blinding. Ivy wonders how often the sun will find its way into his life. Into his eyes. Blind him from the outside factors as he becomes overcome with the happiness that follows each ray of warm light.
They enter a bedroom.
Charcoal gray walls. Soft, neutral sheets. Fairy lights. It smells like them. Like Vessel, II, and III. Like ocean waves and rain clouds. Like precious honey and lavender fields. Like a campfire and the smell of freshly toppled cedar.
Vessel lays him down gently. But not a moment later, other hands seize his cheeks. Lift his head upwards. Pillow it on soft, but muscular, thighs.
Where it all started. Where it all would end. The one who kickstarted everything. The one whose light had blinded him first.
"II."
"I have you," II tells him with a genuine smile, soft and pretty. Blues eyes sparkling in the golden light. Soft blond waves swaying as he brushes his fingers down Ivy's reddened cheeks.
"I know," Ivy grins, chuckling deeply as II's eyes soften and his smile widens. "I know you do."
A hand finds his. Warm. Larger than his own. The bed dips from the added weight as Ivy breathes him in.
"III."
"At your side, love," III grumbles as he reverently kisses Ivy's bandages. "We'll be here with you every step of the way."
The room shifts. Or maybe he does. It's difficult to say.
A body looms over him, blocking out the light. II's hands leave his face. His head lowers safely to the bed. Away from II's thighs. III's hand leaves him. The bassist's lips are gone, too. Ivy rumbles. His Alpha mourning the loss. His eyes squint. Vessel's half lidded gaze meets his own. And a howl catches in his throat.
Vessel's hands seize his arms. Pin him down. But....
Ivy lets it go and lets himself go. A Guardian being coveted. Sheltered in an embrace bigger than itself. Shielded by someone else for once. Ivy realizes something then. Something important.
Surrender is another form of protection.
That's his place in all this. In their lives. His little acts of sacrifice. Both seen and unseen. No lesser than the others. But no greater either.
There is choice. There is sacrifice. There is love. And there is surrender to that love.
The scent of honey grounds him. Of sea salt and cinder. Of love returned. His Alpha stills in the presence of its chosen. Its family.
"Claim me," Ivy chuffs, tipping his head back. Baring his skin. His neck. His unmarked scent gland. Amber wafts off him in waves. Sun kissed leather stretches in the air. There is fear in his scent. But there is clarity in his eyes as he holds Vessel's gaze. Vessel's breath hitches. Ivy's does not. He smiles brightly. "Go on then, Pack Alpha."
Vessel leans downward, his lips slightly parting. Ivy's breath does catch then as warm breath ghosts over his cheek. Even warmer lips pressing against his skin.
"You're home now," Vessel mumbles against him as Ivy's eyes flutter closed. Breathe him in. The swell of the ocean. The salt of the sea. "You're safe here. With me. With us. Our Guardian."
Ivy's exhale is shaky as Vessel sinks downward. Puts his full weight on him. Traps his body against the mattress. Vessel's lips find his neck.
There is a pause. A single moment lost to time. A final out given.
Ivy smiles brightly. Flicks his tongue across aching teeth. Cock twitching in his pants. Adrenaline coursing in his veins. Instinct bidding him to rise.
He bares his neck further instead.
Vessel's mouth widens. Warm breath dances across his sensitive skin. Sharp fangs take their place.
And sink in.
It burns like holy fire.
Tears a whine out of his throat. But Vessel does not relent then. He bears his weight down on him. Dominating. Fighting back the instinctive thrashing of Ivy’s limbs. Immobilizing him entirely. Ivy breathes through it. Feels the venom sink into his skin. Penetrate the muscles beneath it. Sear Vessel's claim not only into his skin, but into his very soul. He whines. A whine unlike any of the few that he's made before. His heart feels liable to explode. His blood surges with momentary terror while adrenaline courses through his veins.
But the moment that Ivy fights for is not for the pain to stop. No. It is for clarity.
Because it is Vessel who holds him. It is Vessel who stakes his claim in him. It is Vessel who mumbles apologies into his skin as he slowly eases his weight off of him. Satiated with the depth of his claim. Ensured that it will never fade. Ivy whimpers before he blinks back into a conscious state of being. A state beyond the searing pain.
"I have you. You're safe," Vessel whispers into his ear. Nuzzling against him. Kissing his sweat slick skin.
It feels good.
Better than anything that Ivy's ever felt before. It soothes him. His doubts. His worries. His pain. His nervousness. His unease. It doesn't erase it entirely. But it calms it. Turns a roaring storm into a gentle breeze. Makes it all seem bearable. Makes everything feel worth it. It makes him feel seen. Alive. Wanted. Held. Claimed. Everything he’s never let himself believe he could have. Everything he’s always been too afraid to need.
Vessel holds him. Vessel sees his pain. Vessel sees him. Vessel loves him. Above everything else, Vessel loves him.
"My beautiful Guardian," Vessel mumbles. Peppering kisses into Ivy's neck. Tongue lapping up the blood. "Mine."
His.
Ivy's Alpha is erratic. White noise in his ears. Low thrumming in his chest. Then, it is satiated. Silenced. Quiet. One with Vessel's Alpha. An Alpha he swore internally to protect. That he has protected. That has protected him.
Ivy's teeth ache. Sore from the weight of their desire. His cock leaks in his trousers. Neglected but alight from excitement.
"Yours," Ivy grumbles with a blissful smile as he leans into Vessel's touch. Confidence creeping back into him then. A once familiar thing. "Want you... to be mine."
A wolfish grin presses into the bleeding skin of his neck. And then....
Dark eyes meet his. Blown wide. Lips stained with blood. Nostrils flaring. Wild. Instinctual. Lustful. Gone.
Then, it is Vessel who bares his neck. Speaks.
"I want your mark, Guardian."
Ivy's heartbeat thunders in his ears. His eyes race to Vessel's exposed neck. To the place where II's claim sits proud. To the place where III's mark lies. A scar forever embedded into the Dominant Alpha's flesh. Ivy leans upward as Vessel leans down. His Alpha rolls around happily within him. His scent saturates the air as he breathes Vessel's in. His body is on fire. His limbs shake. His teeth ache as he leans outward and places a gentle kiss on Vessel's skin. Apologetic.
In that beat of silence, he hears II slip from III's arms. Doesn't remember when they moved there. But he notices now. Feels the bed dip on either side of him with new, added weight. Feels them crowd in close.
Feels Vessel's claim on their skin as surely as he feels his own.
Pack.
"Go ahead," II mumbles lowly. Beautifully breathless. But his voice is still a siren's song. Taken with something that stretched beyond the bounds of desire. Outside of the grasp of instinct. "Mark him, Ivy."
"Claim him, love," III breathes out huskily. Warm scent flaring.
Ivy growls. Eyes dilating. Teeth throbbing. Vessel's Alpha makes an inhuman sound above him. But Vessel reels it in. Holds still.
Bares his neck further for him.
A breath later and Ivy sinks his teeth in.
Vessel groans above him as Ivy's mouth latches onto his skin. His fangs pierce the periphery of Vessel's scent gland. His mouth is treated to the taste of the sea beneath the coppery tang of blood that forms on his lips. It's not a claim. There is no instant spark. There are no fireworks. But there is more than Ivy's ever had before. More than he's ever felt. Connection. Love. Trust. Belonging.
He gradually relinquishes his bite. Kisses and licks the wound on Vessel's neck before admiring its placement. Mirroring III's, stretching on the other side. Framing II's pretty little teeth marks. Vessel's eyes are half lidded when their gazes meet. And Ivy swallows thickly then. Apologizes to his own unsatisfied Alpha in return as he rolls his head backward and lets out a shuddered breath.
He's still ours, Ivy tells it and tells himself.
But he blinks away heavy tears. He never cries. But he cries now. Frustrated. Overwhelmed as Vessel collapses on top of him. He doesn't bristle. Can't. Not when it's his mate who kisses his tears away. Mumbling sweet words into his skin.
Vessel tells him the same thing he tells himself.
"I'm yours," Vessel promises him. Deep voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as Ivy lets out a shuddered breath. He tastes the sea salt on his tongue. The blood. The claim that he staked in spite of their biology. "I love you so much. My precious Guardian. My mate."
"You did so well for him," II's voice rings out, fingers threading through Ivy's dark hair. Ivy shudders, grumbling into the small space between himself and Vessel. Feels III shift to rub soothing, abstract lines into the skin of his trembling arms. "You're going to be good for him, aren't you?"
"He's been so patient, Vess," III huskily grumbles, and Ivy's whole body shakes. From the feeling of Vessel's claim settling into his bones. From II's soothing ministrations. From the praise in III's words. "Ivy's never done this before, has he?"
"No," he rasps out, teeth chattering. Vessel's tongue laps at his neck once more, sending shivers down his spine. "Haven't... but fuck, I need this. Need you.... need something."
"I know what you need," Vessel whispers into his ear, nibbling at his ear lobe. Ivy moans, the sound catching in his throat as Vessel shifts off of him. His arms remain pinned as Vessel looms over him once more. Then, warm fingers slip under the fabric of his shirt and splay out. Rising slowly. Grasping his skin, his muscle beneath Vessel's fingertips. Ivy arches into the touch. Shuddering through Vessel's blissful rumbling as II's fingers recede from his locks.
"You don't have to treat me like I'm made of glass," Ivy chuckles, completely lost to the sensation. Bleary eyes seek and find twin pools of burning desire. Vessel's lips split. Teeth on full display. Predatory.
"No, no I don't, do I?" Vessel asks as he cocks his head slowly to the side. Brown hair catching golden light rays, glimmering from the twinkling fairy lights. "You can go toe to toe with me, can't you? Strong as anything." Vessel's fingers push the fabric of Ivy's shirt up, leaving him bare. Exposed. Ivy lets the shirt be removed from his skin, shivering from the change in temperature. Shivering from the weight of Vessel's gaze. Of II’s. Of III’s. "Want you to trust me, my love. You're so used to taking care of other people...."
Heady scents curl like smoke in his nostrils. Vessel's ocean. III's hearth flame. II's sprawling flower field.
He feels it once more, the connection. The undeniable thread that ties them all together. All weaved by the beautiful man on top of him. His mate. Their mate.
Theirs.
Deft fingers find their way to his belt line. A clasp easily undone. A button skillfully unfastened. A zipper dragged down with agonizing slowness.
Vessel chuckles darkly. Eyes half lidded. Wolfish grin on his pretty lips.
"Let me take care of you for a change."
II hums. Rhythmic. Punctuated. Pleased. Instinctual. Happy.
III rumbles beside him. A breathy sound. Lilting. Lovely. Soothing. Content.
Ivy's eyes find Vessel's own, holding his heated gaze. He lets himself give into it. The apprehension. The lust. The desire. The sheer want. He's never done this before. Never offered himself up to someone else. Never learned how to let go.
"I'll take good care of you," Vessel promises him, and there is nothing instinctual in those words. They're said with a smile. A genuine one. A hint of caramel haloing darkened eyes. A glimmer of his light. And for Ivy, it will always be a brilliant fixation.
"I'll do the same for you," Ivy promises him right back, smiling. Cheeks reddening. Fabric is pulled down his hips. His blood stained jeans and form fitting boxers leave his skin in one reverent motion. He hisses in spite of himself the moment that his leaking cock is exposed to the room's air. Vessel curses under his breath. Eyes dark once more. Lost to the feeling. Ivy hears II's sharp intake of breath. Smells the arousal in the little Omega's scent. Groans then. Groans longer as III openly mumbles a quiet fuck beside him. Voice filled with awe.
Ivy surges forward. Lifts his upper half off the mattress. Forces Vessel to kneel between his legs. Ivy smiles. Regaining his agency. His steadfastness. His confidence. His desire for a smidgen of control. He doesn't fear it. Vessel's ability to suppress him. To stifle him. Vessel would never do that to him.
He not only knows that now. He can feel it as assuredly as he feels his own heartbeat racing beneath his ribs. Vessel moans, welcoming the challenge. Welcoming Ivy's fingers as they hurriedly peel the singer's shirt from his skin. Running worshipfully down his defined abdomen. Tracing lines he's only ever seen sweat follow when they worked out. When they performed.
Every beautiful line he's committed to memory finally under his fingertips.
Fingers nestle in his hair. Encourage him as he hastily unfastens Vessel's belt. As he pops the button free. Drags the zipper down with an urgency he's never felt before. He peels the fabric down slowly, preemptively mourning the loss of contact between them as Vessel peels backward and removes the remainder of his clothing.
"Fuck me, Vessel," Ivy mumbles thoughtlessly. Realizes what he's said a moment later. Laughs a moment later as II barks out a laugh of his own. As III chuckles beside him. Ivy's eyes flick from Vessel's leaking cock to the singer's eyes. Seeking permission. Finding it. He takes his dripping, lengthy cock in hand and wraps his hand around it. Delighting in the hissed breath that tears through Vessel's lips a moment after.
Vessel's cock is burning hot in his palm. Weighty. Thick. Long. Ivy chews his bottom lip, moving his hand slowly.
"You can take all of him, I promise you," II purrs, sending a jolt of electricity down Ivy's spine. "Ve, just be gentle with the prep."
Ivy's wrists twist. His eyes simmer with heat. His own cock twitches as Vessel tips his head back and moans. A delicious sound. One he's determined to hear more of.
"Don't worry, my little mate," Vessel coos through a dazed smile. Hand seeking out II's cheek as Ivy's other hand joins the other. Both wrapping around Vessel's length. Covering him. Twisting in opposing directions. Growing slick where pre slicks his palms. "Gonna take good care of him. Ivy can handle this, my love."
Vessel flips the script then. Hand leaving II's cheek. Both hands find Ivy's shoulders. Dislodging Ivy’s hands from around the Dominant Alpha's cock. He hits the mattress with a soft thud. Breathless.
III's hand comes into view, holding something. Lube, he realizes. He swallows thickly. Nervous. But III's hand finds his, his skin still slick with Vessel's pre. Their fingers join. Ivy's head is once more cradled by soft but slightly callused hands. Pillowed once more on II's thighs. He breathes in his scent. The aroma of obvious slick that soaks his skin behind the veil of his trousers.
Ivy moans as the cap pops open. As III's other hand coats Vessel's awaiting fingers. In the next moment, Vessel's knee parts his thighs. His Alpha grumbles. It trusts its mate. Its lover. But its not used to this. Not designed for it. But Vessel's cock leaks all the more for it. As if the Dominant Alpha's body knows. Knows that Ivy isn't meant for this. For him. So, it compensates with more wetness. Something that will ease the strain. Ease him open. Allow him to take everything that Vessel has to give.
A finger finds his hole. II's hands find his cheeks. III squeezes his bandaged hand tighter. Ivy hardly feels the throbbing flesh there anymore. But he feels the heat in his cock. The tension in his muscles as Vessel's finger circles his rim. Dark eyes searching his own. Ivy growls, but he nods through it. Hushes himself. Hushes his confused Alpha. Remembers the sting of teeth. The duality of Vessel's claim. Bliss and searing heat.
"Fuck," Ivy says with a breathless exhale as Vessel's finger enters him. Gently prodding him open. Coating his insides. Preparing him for what's to come. Vessel drones, an appreciative sound.
"So tight," Vessel says almost to himself. But Ivy's cheeks flush all the same. His cock kicks. Twitches. II smiles down at him. III's thumb dances over his wrist. Over his scent gland. Leaving behind a fire on his heated skin. "Relax for me, Ivy."
"Deep breaths," III murmurs darkly, instructing him. Just like he promised Ivy he would.
Ivy breathes in slow. Exhales. Feels added pressure. Another finger. Soaked in lube. Warmed by Vessel's hands. His heat. He groans through the intrusion. The foreign sensation. Two fingers hook inside of him, and Ivy's vision explodes with color. He moans openly. Fluid pooling on his stomach as Vessel mumbles something triumphant through wolfish teeth and smirking lips. Vessel's free hand finds Ivy's cock. Strokes it. Forces him to shudder as more pressure enters him. A third finger. He feels laid bare. Exposed. Pried open.
Vessel's hand leaves his hole, and Ivy can't help but whine. Mourning the loss. The feeling of him inside him. But III merely coats Vessel's fingers again. Blue-green eyes half lidded with lust. Vessel warms the substance on his fingertips. Lazily stroking Ivy's cock as he writhes. Then he welcomes the intrusion once again. II strokes his cheeks. Pale blue eyes rendered into halos of pristine aqua as darkness expands in his irises. Pupils blown wide.
Vessel's fingers skillfully find that place again. Make him see stars. Make the golden lights in the room explode into fractals in his vision.
"Need... fuck, need more," Ivy pants, his eyes leaving II's. Searching. Landing on Vessel's frame. He moans openly. See's III's other hand wrapped around Vessel's leaking cock. Slathering it in lube. His cock twitches hard. Vessel chuckles, squeezing him lightly. Stifling the almost abrupt orgasm that threatened to overtake him. The Dominant Alpha's hand leaves him. Fingers leaving his hole, too.
"I'll give you what you need, my precious mate," Vessel promises him huskily. Shifts on the mattress. Settles fully between Ivy's parted legs. Splays his legs further out on either side of Vessel's thighs. Ivy blushes furiously. Grabs for him. Finding purchase in Vessel's forearms. He claws at them with blunt nails as Vessel takes his weeping cock in hand and lines it up with Ivy's fluttering hole. His Alpha paces. Uncertain.
And then... Vessel enters him. Slowly. Tenderly. Kissing his brow. Mumbling encouragement into his skin. Cock sliding in as Ivy stretches deliciously to accommodate the Dominant Alpha's length. Ivy moans through it. The slight pain. The wetness between his thighs. Vessel fills him entirely. Carves out a home for himself in Ivy's skin. Vessel moans deeply. A sound caught between human and something primal.
"I... can take it," Ivy rumbles, nuzzling into Vessel's neck. Feeling the mark of his own teeth in the singer's skin. He smiles into it. "So, show me... how much you want me."
"You'll be the death of me," Vessel laughs, voice deepening with lust. Ivy feels Vessel fully seated inside him then. Feels his body accommodate his girth. His length. His everything. But he wants more.
And Vessel gives it to him. Exactly as he asked.
III's large hand grips Ivy’s thigh, holding his legs further open. II's hands wind through Ivy’s hair, pushing back sweat dampened dark locks. And Vessel....
"Oh, fuck," Ivy moans, unable to stifle the sound. Vessel's fingers dig into his hips. Ivy's nails rake down his forearms as his mouth falls open wide. His head rolls back, further into II's lap. Brushing against the drummer's hardened cock beneath him. Ivy groans openly at that. Writhing as Vessel's cock hammers into him. Vessel easily finds his prostate and strikes it with precision. Ivy’s untouched cock leaks continuously between them.
"You’re doing so fucking good for me," Vessel praises him through a deep growl. A sound that forces a whimper from Ivy's throat as his Alpha roars to life. Bidding him to seize some control for himself. It forces his hips to move, meeting Vessel's own. Ivy grumbles right back at the Dominant Alpha through a string of strangled moans. Feels the drag of Vessel's cock as it brushes against his slick walls. Hears the squelching of their flesh as Vessel's length buries itself inside of him before hastily retreating. Vessel pistons into him. Hard.
It's unlike anything he's ever felt before. He feels full. Made whole. As if Vessel is filling a gap that Ivy never knew existed within him.
III's fingers rake down his thigh, digging into the muscle beneath his skin. II's breaths are uneven, a symphony of staccato. He smells their arousal beneath the waves of Vessel's endless ocean and never-ending rain. He smiles through his moans as Vessel leans down and covers his body with his own.
II leans back, giving them room, but their heads fall in the little Omega’s lap all the same. Ivy's rolling against the drummer’s hard cock, and Vessel's hovering just above Ivy's. II holds them both through it. Runs his deft fingers through their hair. Brushing back locks. Wiping away sweat.
"He's doing so well for you, Vess," III moans, and the pretty sound makes Ivy moan with him. His cock leaks further as Vessel's cock twitches inside of him. Ivy feels Vessel's knot form. Feels the singer's restraint as he continues to fuck him brutally into II's lap, but Vessel never once allows his knot to go inside of him. II whines, shifting his weight. His scent is so sweet that Ivy's teeth ache even through his haze.
"Ivy deserves to feel this good," II coos at them, his voice taken with lust. Ivy moans once more. Feels heat pooling in his gut as Vessel's head falls into the crook of his neck.
"Deserves so much," Vessel grumbles into his ear. Their hips still snapping together. Their breaths labored. Their scents flaring. Mixing. Harmonizing. "Wanna feel you cum for me. Just like this. Just from my cock."
"Then don't you dare fucking stop," Ivy growls, nails finding Vessel's shoulders. Raking down his back. Legs held apart by Vessel's thighs. By III's hand. His head cradled by the brightest light in his life while their mate's cock leaks inside of him.
Close.
Ivy is, too.
Vessel makes a low, droning sound. Ocean scent rising. Storm clouds letting down their rain. The Dominant Alpha hammers into him with renewed vigor. Already knowing that Ivy wants it. That he can take it. That he will meet him with equal force even when sprawled out beneath him.
Ivy's Alpha settles then. Lost in the feeling. In the realization. Reveling.
Vessel's smooth as satin voice rings in his ears. His cock brushing against his prostate with every thrust. Ivy's voice is incoherent as Vessel nips at his jaw.
"Cum for me, Ivy," Vessel commands him.
And Ivy wouldn't fight his order even if he wanted to.
"Fuck, Vessel," he moans, feels his cock twitch hard as he coats their stomachs in his spend. Feels his eyes roll back in his head as Vessel fucks him harder through it. Slamming into him. Chasing the height that Ivy crests over with a shout of the singer's name. Vessel growls, an inhuman sound, and buries himself inside of his spasming hole. Knot pressing against his rim.
The Dominant Alpha's cock spurts cum deep inside of him as Vessel's teeth sink into his skin again. In the same spot as his claim. Striking with precision. There is no searing pain. Only pure pleasure as Ivy, somehow, feels himself forced to cum again almost immediately after his first orgasm.
He whines. Undone. Overcome. Elated.
Vessel grips him with his teeth, hips stuttering forward as he growls Ivy's name into his scent gland. Blood seeps from the wound. Coating Vessel's teeth. Dripping down Ivy's neck onto II's pillowy thighs. He sees stars. Sees pops of color behind his closed eyelids. Feels Vessel release his skin when the Dominant Alpha is satisfied. The singer licks the wound as Ivy's eyes flutter open.
"I love you," Vessel whispers softly. Voice reverent. Tone unbearably kind. Genuine.
"I love you, Vessel," Ivy pants out. Smiles. Wraps his arms around the singer's shaking frame as III gradually releases his thigh.
"You two stay here. I'll get something to clean you up," III tells them, leaning down to press a kiss onto Vessel's cheek. There is no flair of jealousy. Only more golden rays. Only more beautiful, blinding light. Ivy's grin grows wider, knowing Vessel feels the same as III kisses Ivy's sweat damp brow.
Vessel liked to growl at people after he mated them, he had been told. But there was no need for that here. Not when they were all Vessel's mates. Not when they were all a pack. Not when they were all a family.
"Going to have to get off of my thighs, though," II tells them both with an amused smirk. "I need to get the other sheets out of the truck. Vessel cums too much, and we have to sleep on these. Besides, you got drool and blood on my pants."
Vessel yelps, mock-offended. Ivy's eyes find II's, and he sees nothing but love in his gaze. Blue and unbidden. Glowing golden from the fairy lights above them. Diamond light patterns catch in the little Omega's pretty eyes. Sparkling like a lens flare.
II shuffles out from under them. Dropping their heads gently on the bed before he and III depart the nest. The bedroom. Leaving Ivy to look upward at the ceiling as Vessel nuzzles into his neck with his cock still buried deep inside him.
"Welcome home, my love," Vessel whispers into his claim.
Ivy smiles as he closes his eyes, basking in the afterglow.
“It’s good to be home,” he whispers back.
Notes:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Big emotions. Big stuff happening. That's about all, really.
This is my first time writing a/b/o smut. Hopefully it was good? I feel pretty happy with it. But I look forward to hearing what you all think. We have things to look forward to. Exciting things. Looking at you III. And at you II. ;)
Hope you enjoy(ed) this!
Chapter 13: Bridge
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Fluff. So much fluff.
Notes:
Hello, hello!
I don't have much to say with this one, but I do want to give a shout-out to the absolutely lovely JayDawnSin, who is now beta reading this. You're amazing. Thank you so much! <3
Thank you all once again for the amazing support on this fic. I continue to be blown away by it. I will be responding to comments either late night tonight or early tomorrow. Your comments mean a great deal to me, and it's fun getting to see your thoughts! Thank you all soooo much. :,)
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
As always, take care and enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Ivy opens his eyes, the nest in front of him is empty.
But there is warmth across his back. A leg hooked over both of his. A strong arm wrapped firmly around his waist and another draped over his hips. His mate, he recognizes with a smile as Vessel presses open mouthed kisses on Ivy's swollen scent gland. Right over his claim. Ivy stretches out his limbs as best as he can while Vessel nuzzles into his skin.
"Morning," Ivy grumbles as he leans back further, pressing his back into Vessel's bare chest.
"Morning," Vessel murmurs, his tone dazed. Scent drunk, Ivy suspects. He vaguely wonders how long Vessel has been there, breathing in his scent. Losing himself to it entirely. Blocking out everything other than Ivy.
"Didn't know you could get that way," Ivy chuckles as Vessel goes back to nosing at his skin.
"Wanted to," Vessel whispers softly. Ivy's cheeks darken as he smiles. “Feels nice… tuning everything else out but you.”
The door slams open then. Startling them both. Ivy winces as he shifts on the mattress. His body is beyond sore, aching in a way that's entirely foreign to him. Vessel mumbles into his skin, pressing another kiss on his claim in silent apology.
"Vessel, if you bite his neck one more time before breakfast, I’m tranquilizing you," II huffs. Juggling a tray of food as he pads into the bedroom, accompanied by III. The Empath giggles as he follows the little Omega in, his hands also balancing a wooden tray. Vessel groans into Ivy's damp skin as II and III set the food down on a nearby dresser. Ivy snorts as Vessel slumps further against him in protest.
"Don't be that way, Vess," III chuckles as he approaches the nest. "You can cling to him like a sloth once you've both eaten and showered."
"Or Ve could make himself useful and help us move Ivy's stuff into the house," II says with a sigh, but it's dripping with fondness. "Honestly, I told him you were a mess when you're like this, but you're making it seem like I was downplaying things."
"Am not," Vessel huffs indignantly. It's painfully soft, Vessel's tone. Sweet enough to make Ivy's teeth ache. His Alpha, however, is still not entirely content. Wanting more from Vessel. Wanting something he couldn't give. Something Ivy couldn't have. A proper claim. Vessel nuzzles into him further. Scents him fully. While it leaves Ivy breathless, II tilts his head back and groans. Not nearly as content as Ivy feels at the moment.
"Ve, come on. We have to go pick the car up today, too," II bemoans. "Will you at least eat something?"
"Not hungry," Vessel answers immediately. Ivy watches II's playful smile turn into an immediate frown. Sour notes loft in the room. Vessel stills against him. Sucks in a hissed breath. "I'll eat. Will you feed me, at least?"
"You're not a baby bird," II snorts, smile returning as his scent lightens. Ivy smiles as II rolls his pretty eyes and reaches for the food tray. "Fine, but you're finishing every bite. III and I worked hard on this."
"Deal," Vessel chuckles, kissing the skin of Ivy's neck before rising. Ivy shivers immediately, misses his warmth as cool air hits his damp skin.
"Up you go too, love," III urges him, smiling as he takes the tray off the dresser and approaches the bed. Ivy shifts. Goes to sit. Groans. He curses under his breath, wincing as he forces his sore body upright, reclining back against the headboard. His back and lower half dully throbbing. Vessel snickers at his side. II glares at the Dominant Alpha while taking a seat in front of Vessel. III frowns, taking a seat in front of Ivy. Ivy offers him a small smile in spite of the discomfort.
"Ve," II barks out, silencing the singer with a well placed piece of toast. Poised at Vessel's smirking lips.
"You okay, darling?" III asks him, head tilting to the side. Ivy exhales, fondness simmering in his gaze as he nods. "You should take it easy today. Let us do the heavy lifting, getting you all settled in."
"I'll be fine," Ivy assures him with a smile. Reaching for the fork on the plate before taking a bite of the omelette. III's eyes track his every move.
"Want something for the pain?" III asks through his frown. Ivy swallows the delicious food. Sighs softly as he nods his head once more. Knowing it was pointless. Useless to ever try to hide his feelings from III's inhuman perception. III smiles then, a genuine thing, as the Empath leans down and kisses Ivy's cheek. "Maybe you and I can spend some time together later. That is, if you feel comfortable being away from Vess. And if he's fine with it, too."
"Ve is helping me get the car," II declares as he tips his head backward. Ivy watches out of the corner of his eye as Vessel's eyes dart forward. Landing on II's neck as the little Omega's oversized black shirt slides downward, exposing his scent gland. Vessel grumbles, seizing the tray from the space between him and II before setting it aside. II blinks. Yelps a second later as Vessel scoops him up and tucks him firmly against his chest.
“Wanna take you shopping,” Vessel murmurs. II goes still at the sound, thrashing forgotten. Ivy turns his head as III does. Both of them watching as Vessel buries his nose in II's neck and gently rocks them back and forth. II stills, sighing softly, before he sags against their mate's chest. "Sorry I ruined your nest and scent-work, love."
It hits Ivy like a truck then. He can't feel Vessel's sadness. Not like II does. Not like III, with his Empath's gift. It's there, discernible in the Alpha's oceanic scent. But Ivy doesn't feel it. His Alpha doesn't either.
He didn't expect it to bother him. But it does.
His mate is safe. II is safe. III is safe. His Alpha paces regardless.
"You didn't ruin anything," II tells him, voice painfully soft. Vessel nips at II's jaw, forcing a small shudder out of the drummer.
"You should stay home today," Vessel grumbles into II's skin. Ivy chews his toast. Startles a little as III's hand clamps down over his own. When he meets the bassist's eyes, calm but filled with knowing, Ivy offers the Empath a shaky smile. "You've been away for months. You deserve to rest."
"I'm fine, Ve," II returns, closing his pretty eyes and leaning against their mate's bare chest. "Besides, Ivy's the one who should be resting. I think you broke him."
"I'm just... recovering, that's all," Ivy chuckles as he polishes off his omelette. Squeezing III's hand. Wincing a little as he shifts on the bed. "I can help move my stuff in."
"Absolutely not," III disagrees before Vessel can. The Dominant Alpha's mouth stuck wide open as III wags his finger in the air. "You're getting a nice, relaxing bath while the three of us get you settled. Being away from Vess later on might be hard on you, but I'll keep you company."
"You heard him," II snorts as he peels his head back from Vessel's chest. The singer surges forward not a second later, latching onto his neck once again. II shivers, pale blue eyes squinting from the sensation. Ivy swallows thickly, reaching for II's hand with his free one. Smiling when the little Omega takes it. "You look... happy, you know that?"
Ivy smiles so wide he can feel his lips crack.
"I am happy," Ivy tells him, squeezing II's hand while III squeezes Ivy's other hand. It's not lost on him, how gentle their grips around him are. How mindful they are of his healing wounds beneath the bandages. He smiles, continuing to speak honestly. "Exhausted, and not looking forward to checking my phone, but happy."
"Do you want to talk about it?" III asks him, threading a hand through Ivy's hair. "About last night, what happened back at the pub."
"Maybe..." Ivy chews on the words, chasing the thoughts that come with them, as III’s lithe fingertips dance across his scalp. "Maybe later."
"Go run him a bath, III?" II suggests, peeling his head back further. Squinting when Vessel merely continues to lean into him. Vessel grumbles something that Ivy doesn't quite catch. But II openly groans, exasperated. "You're going to eat the rest of your food. Stop trying to eat me instead."
Ivy chuckles as III leans forward, pressing a kiss to his brow. The Empath excuses himself as II tries to wiggle out of Vessel's lap, only for the singer to pull the little Omega down with him as he collapses. II lets out a soft exhale, grumbling under his breath as Vessel chuckles into the sheets. Ivy doesn't hesitate to reach for them both. Dropping his hold over II's hand as he shifts on the mattress, biting back another wince. He cards his fingers through Vessel's unruly, short hair. Uses his other hand to brush back II's pale locks as the drummer relents, melting into the contact both he and Vessel offer him.
"You still need to eat," II mumbles, lavender curling in the air.
Vessel laughs, the sound light and airy as it carries in the quiet of the room. For a moment, Ivy's teeth forget to ache. His Alpha forgets to want more. And Ivy himself feels nothing but love as it courses through his veins.
"I will," Vessel replies with a blinding, wolfish smile. "I promise."
Ivy closes his eyes, smiling as he slumps over on the mattress beside them. As he drifts off, he feels his mate's hand land on his claim. He lies there in bliss in spite of the dull ache in his body. Breathing in their scents as the sound of running water in the en suite, in combination with Vessel and II's quiet breathing, lures him back to sleep.
-
Jack: I am so fucking sorry. Owen was apparently with Bryn but left. I didn't expect him to be there
Jack: But u kicked his fucking arse lmao
Jack: Bryn is pissed. Don't bother with him right now
Jack: please tell me u got laid at least? :)
Ivy snorts as he leans over the edge of the bathtub, sore fingers typing away at his screen. Alys had been, predictably, upset. His parents were worried sick. Evan asked if he won the fight, then told him it would have been embarrassing to lose. And honestly? Ivy couldn’t argue with that.
Still, it stung.
He didn't want to talk about it, but reiterated that he was fine. To his sole remaining friend. To his family. To Vessel. To II.
But III...
"We got everything off the truck and put it in the guest room for now. Vess and II are heading out to get the car," III calls from the other side of the door. Ivy tosses his phone on the nearby pile of towels and slips back into the bath. Listening. Finding it strange that III just always knew. Empath or not, III's ability to read him had always been alarming. First it was in a way that unnerved him. Now? Ivy swallows guilt as he tries to push the negative thoughts in his head out of his mind. Focusing on III's voice. His presence beyond the door.
The throb in his neck. Vessel's venom in his muscles. His scent on his skin.
"I'll be done soon," Ivy responds, raising his voice as he rolls his head back. Relaxing further into the claw foot tub.
"Can I... come in?" III asks, his voice strangely sheepish. Ivy flushes, remembering the night before. How III had held his legs open. How his fingers felt on his thigh. He curses under his breath. Glaring daggers through the water as his cock twitches against his abdomen. His backside, however, still continues to scream in protest. Not quite sated by the water's warmth.
"Yeah," Ivy confirms, swallowing thickly. Scent flaring. Amber curling. Leather gradually warming underneath the distant notes of III's flame. He licks his lips. "You can come in."
The door creaks open a second later. III slips in without a word, shutting it softly behind him. His bare feet pad across the pristine tile. His hair is pushed out of his face. Golden strands slightly coated in sweat from exertion. Ivy raises his gaze. Meets III's blue-green eyes, offering the Empath a small smile.
“I can leave if you need some alone time,” III offers after a beat. Voice quiet. Careful. Measured. His eyes observant.
“I don't think being alone is good for me right now,” Ivy mutters, turning his head further until his neck rests against the tub's cold frame. It's strange, being away from Vessel. His Alpha is uncomfortable. Feels abandoned in spite of knowing that Vessel will soon return. Everything feels raw. Too fresh. But Ivy continues to smile.
III smiles a little, too. Pulls II's stool from the vanity over beside the tub. He sits, scooching closer with a considerate expression. Ivy watches him through the corner of his eye. Watches the way his flame-scent flickers brighter when their eyes meet once again.
“You really okay?” III asks him pointedly.
Ivy swallows. Shifts in the water. The ache in his thighs stings. His heartbeat feel erratic. His nerves are frayed. But he's home. Claimed. A welcome part of the pack now. Brought in by the only one who could do it. Approved of. Loved. His emotions are conflicting. Haywire, but he nods anyway.
“Yeah. Just tired.”
It's so pointless to hide the truth, but he tries to anyway.
III hums. Low and soft. Soothing in a way that makes Ivy’s shoulders drop before he can stop them. Tension receding.
“You don't have to be okay,” III tells him after a moment. The Empath leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “You want me to wash your hair? I can see you've already done it, but... maybe it will help you relax.”
“You don’t have to,” Ivy blinks. Unsure how to respond. Unsure what it's like. He's never had someone offer to do something like that for him. Not since he was a child and his mam wrestled him into the tub.
“I know,” III lilts, His smile stays the same. Small and warm. “But I want you to enjoy this, being here."
Ivy licks his lips. Nods once. Sinks a little deeper into the water, then straightens once more. III rolls up his sleeves and moves behind the tub, careful with the space he takes up. Careful not to bump into him. Ivy closes his eyes as water pours over his scalp from the nearby cup. Warm. Steady. Relaxing. His body still complains in small flares, but it’s easier to ignore when III’s fingers slide through his damp hair.
“I’m really sorry about what happened at the pub,” III murmurs, entirely sincere. “It shouldn’t have gone that way.”
Ivy stays quiet. Doesn’t know what to say. The shampoo smells like something earthy. Green. A scent approved by II, he knows. Every smell around them was. Carefully curated. Painstakingly selected. It wasn't scent free like their detergent, but it was complimentary to their scents. To II's flower field and honey. Vessel's rain and sea. III's woodlands and hearth fire. Ivy leans further into the touch before he can stop himself.
“You didn’t deserve any of that,” III says again, gentler this time. Ivy lets his words sink in. Swallows.
“I hit him," he bites out, angry with himself. His instincts disagree, thinking him a fool for it. But no matter how Ivy looked at it, even if Owen got what was coming to him, and Ivy was only doing what was necessary to protect them, it still hurt. To strike first against someone he once thought of as a friend. Someone who now spun stories about him back home. Who accused Gethin of allowing the violence to happen in the first place. Who still blamed everyone else but himself.
Ivy wishes it didn't end that way. Still remembers the good times when Owen wasn't overcome with instinct and bitterness. Wrought with poor control over his emotions.
“Yeah. Because he deserved it.” III pauses, then exhales. “And because you were protecting us. There's no shame in admitting that you were scared of what he would do if you didn't intervene.”
Scared.
Ivy flinches, barely. III’s thumbs brush behind his ears as if he didn’t notice. Or more likely because he did. III always notices.
“You knew, of course," Ivy chuckles lowly.
“I always know," III confirms with a slight sigh.
Ivy opens his eyes. III’s face is close, but not too close. His brows are furrowed. Flame burning low. But there is no judgment in his expression. Only genuine care. Only heartfelt concern.
Ivy breathes out through his nose. The steam curls around his face. III rinses the lather with practiced ease, careful not to tug too hard when his fingers comb through the ends. Ivy flexes his sore hands. Shifts his sore body ever so slightly. Sinks further into the tub. Leans further into III's steady hands.
“Feels nice,” Ivy mutters with a pleased smile. "Thank you."
“Good,” III replies, softer now. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” he tilts his head back again, letting his neck rest against the edge of the tub. “You’re good at this.”
“You’ve got nice hair,” III says with a light laugh. “I always enjoy this sort of thing. Playing with hair, giving massages and the like. II and Vess humor me. I know it's a part of what I am, an urge of sorts. But I feel it, you know? How nice it feels for you.”
Ivy hums. He doesn’t know what to do with the heat crawling down his neck that has nothing to do with the bathwater. His body aches. His chest does, too. Throbbing in a quiet, twisting way that comes with too many emotions pressed into too small a space. Liable to burst. But III’s hands never stop moving. They're always gentle. Always knowing when to press and when to pull back.
Ivy opens his eyes when he feels the towel. III pats his hair dry, loose and slow, as if he’s afraid of hurting him. It feels nice, he realizes. Letting go. Letting himself be loved. Cared for. Not always being the one doing the loving. The caring. The sheltering and the giving.
“Thanks,” Ivy says sincerely. His voice is rougher than he means it to be.
III sets the towel aside and sits back down on the stool. His knees brush Ivy’s arm where it rests on the tub edge. He doesn’t move away.
“You’ve got that look in your eyes again,” III says quietly.
“What look?” Ivy inquires with a raised brow.
“That one right there. The one where you’re thinking too much," III tells him, wiping a finger across Ivy's damp brow.
Ivy glances at him. Their eyes meet again. He doesn’t look away. Neither does III.
“You don’t have to say anything,” III tells him. “You don’t even have to think about it right now. Just... relax for me. Be here. With me.”
Ivy watches him for another second. Then reaches out. III doesn’t flinch when Ivy’s fingers wrap loosely around his wrist. Doesn’t push him away when Ivy just holds him there, thumb pressing into the steady thrum of his pulse. He lets his scent uncoil. Feels it furl over III. Feels the moment that the bassist's heartbeat quickens beneath his skin.
“I felt safe, III,” Ivy murmurs, cheeks burning. “Last night. With all of you.”
“You are safe,” III says with a pretty smile. His eyes crinkle in the corners. Ivy stares at the lines, hoping to commit them to memory. “Always.”
“I don't know what I was expecting, but... thank you. For talking me through it," Ivy grumbles, chewing on his bottom lip. "Thank you for staying by my side."
“I always will," III promises him, his eyes glimmering with fondness.
III gently brushes his fingers over Ivy’s hand once before lifting it. Kisses the inside of his wrist. Light. Barely there. Just enough to seal his promise.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” III says as he stands. The stool creaks across the floor. The air shifts behind Ivy. Feels colder now that III's quiet fire isn't there to warm it. III makes to leave but...
Ivy doesn’t let go.
And III doesn’t pull away when Ivy holds onto him. The Empath waits.
But eventually, Ivy loosens his grip.
III reaches for the second towel, and offers his hand. Ivy takes it. His joints complain, but he stands anyway. Lets the water trail down his pale skin. Lets III guide him out with steady hands and no commentary. He doesn’t flinch when III wraps the towel around his waist. Doesn’t look away when III runs a second towel over his shoulders, down his arms, along his chest. The heat between them shifts. The touch slows. Lingers.
Ivy’s breath stutters when the towel skims his stomach. When III drops to his knees in front of him. The towel stops just above his hips.
Ivy’s cock twitches.
He sees the moment that III notices. Watches the way the Empath breathes through it. Clearly in no rush. There is no teasing between them. Merely something warmer. Something heavier, as it settles in the air between them.
III stands again. No distance left this time. Their bodies almost touch. Ivy doesn’t know who leans in first, only that his hands end up on III’s lithe waist. That III kisses him like he means it. Mouth soft. Patient. Lips parting without urgency. Ivy sighs against him. His muscles still ache, but he doesn’t care. His Alpha blinks out of its self imposed haze. Stirs in his chest as III's tongue brushes against his own. III isn't his mate, but there's the now familiar taste of pack on his tongue.
He feels the weight of it shift when III walks him backward. Towards the bedroom door. Breath quiet. Hands careful. The towel loosens as the back of Ivy’s knees hit the mattress.
They sink down together. Slow. Wordless.
His Alpha wants to protest. But the growl dies in his throat. Remembers. Smells Vessel on III's skin. Reconciles.
Pack.
The growl fades into an unabashed moan. His Alpha lets it happen.
III cradles his jaw as they kiss. His lithe fingers gently guide his head upward before III briefly breaks the contact. Collapsing beside him. Ivy reaches out with a sore hand. Flips on his side as he reaches for III's waist and pulls him in. III's shirt rides up. Exposes his pale, quiet musculature. Ivy's breath hitches when skin brushes skin. When arousal hums low in his spine. He feels III's cock brush against him. Doesn't bother to stifle his pleased groan as III's cheeks darken, turning a pretty shade of red.
When they pause to breathe, Ivy licks his lips. Keeps his eyes half-lidded. Holds III's gaze as if it were a lifeline.
“Should we wait for them?” He asks huskily, fingers digging into III's side.
III doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at him. Hands on Ivy’s neck. Right over Vessel's claim. Face open and soft. His smile as beautiful as ever.
“I’m so bloody tired of waiting,” III grumbles, and something in his calm breaks. Gives way entirely to love. To lust.
And that’s it for them.
Their mouths meet again with more urgency now. Warm lips melding, giving way to one another. Hot breaths exchanged. Tongues sliding. Ivy kisses him like he means it, and III kisses back like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than he’s ever let on. Heat simmer in Ivy's gut as III's fingers nestle in his dark hair, pulling him forward.
The towel slips from Ivy’s waist, left forgotten somewhere between their bodies and the mattress. III doesn't move to take his shirt off. But Ivy does it for him. Peeling the soft fabric up over his lithe torso with care. Revealing the line of his chest. His narrow waist. The pale skin that's usually hidden under stage blacks, swirling patterns, and oversized jumpers. At the lake, he had looked gorgeous. Underneath Ivy's fingertips, he looks divine.
His Alpha processes his thoughts. His wants. The sense of pack between them.
Ivy's teeth ache. Longing for a claim to stake. Ivy longs for a mark of permanence instead.
III helps remove his shirt, arms lifting. His breathing shallow. His stunning eyes glassy.
Ivy takes a moment to look at him. To really look. Every freckle. Every faint line of old strain carved into III’s brow. Every crinkling line at the corner of his eyes. The flush in his cheeks. The tremble in his soft lips.
"You okay?" Ivy asks, voice low.
III nods, though it takes him a second. He reaches out and cups Ivy’s cheek.
"You make me feel safe," he whispers through a damning smile.
Ivy kisses him for that. Slow and long. Lets it linger. Lets it say everything that he doesn't know how to. He loves him. Loves III. Loves how he always knows what to say. How he reads his moods so easily. How he always wants to help. How he makes small sacrifices for everyone around him. A steady pillar of support. Never judgemental. Unshakable. Calm. Charismatic. Enigmatic. Everything.
When they gradually pull apart, III is already half beneath him. The Empath's legs shift open as Ivy slots between them. Their cocks brush, drawing quiet, unsteady gasps from both of them. Ivy's leaks onto the thin fabric of III's joggers. Feels III's length twitch against him. Forcing a moan off his lips as he quietly, lustfully, descends.
Ivy doesn’t rush.
He kisses down III’s throat. Presses his lips to the hollow of his collarbone, then to the space just over his fluttering heart. His hands roam but never demand. His mouth speaks for him in quiet touches and breathless praise. He's confident here, like this. He's done this before. Never with an Alpha. Never with anyone other than an Omega. But he knows how to give pleasure all the same.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs breathlessly.
III exhales shakily. One hand in Ivy’s hair. The other tangled in the sheets.
It’s not long before Ivy settles back between his legs. Hands braced on III’s hips. Fingers curling under the waistband of the Empath's trousers. His body is tense, not from aggression, but restraint.
"Tell me if you want to stop," Ivy says, gaze searching. "Or if you don't want things to go this way."
III doesn’t answer right away. His breath hitches. His eyes fill, but he smiles through it.
“I want you,” III whispers, batting his pretty lashes. “I want this. Want you like this."
Ivy kisses III's tears as they fall. Brushes his thumbs across wet cheeks and kisses his eyelids. Lets III hold him. Lets him cry. Lets him feel it. His love. His silent promise of protection. Of safety. Of what little that Ivy can offer him so readily. III takes it all in. Lets it go. Graces Ivy with his response in the form of salty tears before they part long enough for III to ease out of his pants. Ivy reaches blindly for lube, ignoring the sting in his rear as he finds the same bottle from the night before. He uncaps it before warming the liquid in his hands.
"I need this now," III growls, and Ivy can't help but chuckle. "I need you, Ivy."
"I'm right here," Ivy shushes him, kissing away another tear before he hikes III's legs over his thighs. Licking his lips as he takes in the sight of him fully. The length of his cock. Longer than Vessel's, but not quite as thick. Leaking. Flushed. Pre beading at the tip. Dripping on III's abdomen. Unreasonably pretty. Mouth watering. Ivy's Alpha doesn't stir, nor make a fuss. III's, too, is quiet. Seemingly far more used to the presence of another Alpha looming overhead.
When III is ready, Ivy prepares him slowly. His fingers are careful. Lingering. Gentle in every sense. He watches every breath. Every twitch. Every sound that III makes. Watches him arch when he finds the right spot. Watches his lips part, then press together in quiet, gasping ecstasy.
"You're doing so well for me," Ivy coos at him, gently twisting his fingers as III's hole stretches to accommodate the intrusion. III is tight around his fingers, but his walls are slick. Welcoming. Warm. Ivy's cock aches. Leaks pre on the newly placed sheets. The ones from their tour bus. The soft blues with golden threads. The ones Vessel bought out of past guilt. The ones that made II have that soft look in his pale blue eyes. Ivy will owe him an apology. Vows to make it up to the little Omega. Figures II will understand. Knows he will.
III moans openly as Ivy's fingers brush against his prostate once more. The Empath's legs open wider. Ivy sucks in a hissed breath.
"Ivy, please," III begs, and it's one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard.
Ivy's fingers withdraw slowly before flying towards the lube. Seizing the bottle and managing to not drop it on the sheets as he coats his cock in the substance. He groans from the sensation. Knows he won't last long. That it's been too long since he was buried to the hilt inside of someone. The idea of being inside of III makes his pleasure spike. Forces him to stop as he lines up his cock with III's fluttering hole.
"You're sure?" Ivy pants, breathless but needing confirmation.
His Alpha howls with delight.
"So fucking sure," III tells him, nails gently raking over his forearms as Ivy slowly pushes into him.
Hot. Wet. Tight. III moans, a gorgeous thing. Ivy nearly cums on the spot. Forces himself to slow. Eases his length into III's searing heat as the bassist writhes beneath him, groaning. Gripping the sheets.
"Not gonna last if you grip me like that," Ivy admits, breathing heavily. Fresh tears pour down III's cheeks. Ivy leans down. Brings III's hips higher. Adjusts the angle. Kisses the Empath's tears away as III's hole clenches around his cock once again. "Fuck, you feel so good."
"I'm already so close," III laughs, confessing the words easily. "I want you to move. I want to feel you. I want you to... to mark me, when you cum inside me."
"Fucking hell," Ivy moans, rolling his hips into III's waiting heat. It's heaven. III's moans. The pleasurable grip around him. The gentle breathing between them. The taste of III's overcome tears on his tongue. "Same time. I want to feel your teeth in me."
His Alpha wants to protest but doesn't. Can't. Not when he gives it this. Gives it III. Not when III, an Alpha, submits for him.
"Harder," III begs, tears sliding down his cheeks as Ivy heeds his demand. Fucks into him in earnest. His sore knuckles are forgotten. His aching rear a distant memory. III grips him tighter. Meets his thrusts. Takes some control for himself as Ivy finds that spot inside of III that makes him see stars. He hammers into it. Growls and groans leaving his lips. Scent soaking the room. He'll make it up to II, he reminds himself through the haze. Give II anything he wants. Curl up in Vessel's lap afterward. Feel his limbs entangled with III's.
"I love you," Ivy pants into III's wet cheek, snapping his hips with fervor. Close. So very close. Heat pools in his gut. His cock twitches, leaking inside of the Empath's slick hole.
"Love you," III moans, guiding him to his neck. Ivy breathes him in, shifting so III can do the same. Hearth fire. Smoke. Cedar. He thinks of the lake. Of the good moments, not what happened after. Thinks of III on the dock, watching the sun. Of him swimming. Carrying II and playfully accosting Vessel. Of the grilled food and the hug that III gave Vessel when II insisted on being alone.
III smells like that distant memory. Like the forest that embraced them all. The fire that roared in the pit that Vessel worked so hard on.
III clenches around him. Spills his seed between them. Teeth sink into his skin. His Alpha roars. Ivy bites down hard. Mirrors Vessel's mark. Groans as III's sharp fangs sink through skin and muscle. Feels the bassist's tears even then as blood coats his teeth and tongue. III tastes like embers in the night air. Smells ever so faintly like Vessel's storm clouds. Like II's flowers. Ivy ruts hard into him. Forces himself deep. Stakes a claim that goes beyond the physical.
Marks III as his while III marks him the same.
A territory chosen. A home that they both love and crave.
They collapse in a heap. Ivy licks the blood from III's neck, shushing him as III sniffles into Ivy's sore skin.
"I'm so glad you stayed," III confesses, and Ivy smiles as he kisses the bassist's trembling lips.
"I'm not leaving," Ivy promises him, breath ghosting over III's damp skin. "I'm yours, III."
III cries harder then, and never, not once, does Ivy think his tears are anything but relieved.
-
When Ivy next awakens, it is to the feeling of lips against his neck. His Alpha whines. The noise escaping his lips.
“Vessel,” Ivy grumbles sleepily, blindly exposing his neck. Feels the sting of reopened wounds as the Dominant Alpha laps at his skin. He blinks himself awake more. Smiles, fingers dancing over III's chest as the bassist snores softly.
"Missed you," Vessel mumbles into his skin, kissing it once before sighing. "Was III good for you?"
Ivy bites his lip to stifle the moan that threatens to spill out.
Smells the air instead. III's content scent. Vessel's rich one. His own laced with happiness.
"He was... emotional, but I think he's happy. I... hope he is," Ivy admits with a small laugh. Vessel kisses his cheek then. Mumbling affirmations and words of praise into his skin. Making him blush. Making him feel seen. Wanted. Loved. III was right, once more. Vessel's love was consuming. But it was beautiful, too.
"Move."
Ivy blinks, eyes darting to the side as II comes into view, shaking III’s leg beneath the sheets. The bassist grumbles, blinking himself awake. Even in an obvious haze, III complies. Shifting away. Ivy can't help the grumble that leaves his lips. Feels his breath hitch a moment later as II snatches the towel from the bed and tosses it before bracing a knee on the end of the mattress.
Vessel chuckles against Ivy's neck. III smiles softly.
Ivy watches in reverence.
II slots in between Ivy and III, sighing softly before he turns on his side. Facing Ivy. Smiling. Ivy’s heartbeat stutters. His breath catches with it. He forgets how to exhale. How to inhale. Overcome as he drowns in II's twin oceans. In the dazzling white smile offered to him. In the scent of rolling flowers. Of rich honey. Of spiced, warm vanilla. II's pretty fangs glint in the warm, golden light above them.
"You're... not mad over the nest?" Ivy finally breathes out, unsure of what else to say. II laughs. Crystalline. Bright. Happy.
Ivy can't help but smile.
"Shut up and kiss me," II demands before leaning forward, crashing their lips together with more heat and more force than they had ever met before. Ivy melts into him. Into the kiss. Into the feeling of II's small body against his bare skin. Into the feeling of Vessel’s lips on his claim. III’s mark burning sweet behind it. He moans and II skillfully swallows the sound. Sharp, small teeth catch his bottom lip. Teasing. But II is all smiles as he gently pulls back.
Ivy looks at him like II hung the stars.
"Don't say anything," II tells him, grinning before closing his eyes. Ivy feels time around them stop. "I just... want to enjoy this for a little while."
It’s the easiest command Ivy has ever obeyed.
Notes:
This fic is doing wonders for my smut writing practice. Hopefully it was enjoyable! Big things ahead in this Act. Buckle up. ;)
Chapter 14: Off Script
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Tooth rotting fluff.
Oh, and the start of something. Ba dum tsk. Big chapter ahead. But it is a bit on the shorter side at 5.6k words.
Notes:
My plans got canceled due to more rain. But we hit 400 kudos! So, have a very, very early chapter for this milestone. My hands are cramping to hell and back. But I am satisfied with this one.
Before we begin, I do want to give another shout-out to the absolutely lovely JayDawnSin for beta reading this. You're the best. Thank you so much! <3
The support on this fic has been mental. You all are the best community/fandom, hands down. Thank you all so very much. I will reply to comments later tonight or tomorrow! <3
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
As always, take care and enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ivy sits at the table with a fork in his bandaged hand.
He’s halfway through the lunch that III made, but he hardly remembers sitting down. Hardly remembers much of anything but them. Everything tastes fine. Better than fine. Everything is delicious. Cooked with love and care. But his mouth is dry. His stomach tight. He chews anyway. Feels the stinging in his throat. He reaches for his water and downs it before setting the empty glass aside.
Across from him, III drapes himself over the side of an empty chair. Still shirtless. Still loose and glowing. His neck swollen and red. Marked. Baring II's proud little claim. Vessel's possessive scar. Ivy's own teeth marks. III's hair is a mess. Golden blond locks lying at odd angles. His scent is content. Warm flame. Freshly chopped cedarwood. Sweet in a way an Alpha's shouldn't be. But Ivy doesn't question it. Because III is a lot of things an Alpha shouldn't be, but the Empath does them well.
“Eat,” III says after some time, lifting his brows at Ivy. "II will kill you if you don't eat more. You'll want your energy if he invites you in."
Ivy blinks down at his plate. Forces another bite into his mouth. Swallows without tasting it. Anticipation and nerves humming under his skin. His Alpha keen with the prospect. With the thought of an Omega. With the thought of II. The drummer's scent is still on Ivy’s skin. Sweet. Warm. A little wild in the notes of honey. As if taken from a bustling hive.
“Where is II anyway?” Ivy asks as he stabs his fork at another piece of chicken, polishing off his fragrant rice.
"He ducked out of the kitchen while you and Vess were in the shower," III shrugs, taking a sip from his glass.
“He's upstairs," Vessel leans against the counter. Mug of tea in hand. He hasn’t said much this morning. Just watched. Just listened. A comforting presence. His dark brown hair glimmers a shade of gold as light filters in through the large open window. His dark eyes shimmer, caramel in their center. "He took all the sheets in the guest room and from the laundry before he went up."
"Nesting?" Ivy asks, glancing between them. "He just made the bed last night."
III laughs under his breath. It’s soft. He doesn’t mean it cruelly. But there's a glint of knowing in his eyes. A sparkle of something Ivy clearly isn't clued in on.
“He's going to need all the soft things for what he has in mind,” III says through a fond smile, stretching his long legs out under the table until his toes nudge Ivy’s.
Ivy goes still.
“He’s overwhelmed, Ivy. You've made his whole little world spin around the past two days. It’s a lot for him. Even when it’s something good,” III leans forward. Elbows on the table. His voice is a little softer now. "You have to understand something about II. Two things really. One, all this, you, me, and Vess? He was so afraid you'd back out. You wouldn't be the first to break his heart."
Ivy exhales. Stares at the edge of his plate. Unable to hold III's gaze as the Empath's words sink in. He frowns. Hates that II was worried at all. Wonders if he didn't do enough to show how serious he was taking things. To show II he intended on sticking around. II had been left behind before. Hurt. Heartbroken by another IV once.
Ivy can feel Vessel's scent rise in a bid to comfort him. He smiles sadly. Knows it's because Vessel can feel his emotions. But he can never feel Vessel's. III's scent joins in. Fire curling over open sea. Two conflicting forces, not so conflicting now. Ivy breathes in deep.
"The second thing is, II is going to give into instinct with you," III continues. "He doesn't do that lightly. Prides himself on being strong enough to separate himself from that part of his being. But this has been a lot for little love to process. He's been away from home for months. Stress nesting every night. Worried over losing you. And now that he knows he can have you, his mind is in overdrive. He's preparing to welcome a new Alpha into his nest. He's preparing to let himself go. To trust you with him fully."
"I... know that," Ivy says dryly before clearing his throat.
"We know you, Ivy," Vessel says as he sets down his mug. He approaches the table and bends down to kiss Ivy’s furrowed brow. "You'll take good care of our little mate. But remember, II is showing you something that he never shows to anyone. Only us. It's a sacred thing, that. Be better than good to him, please."
Vessel isn't asking. Dressing a command with a request. But Ivy has no intentions of disobeying. Never did. Especially not when II is involved.
“Is he scared?” Ivy asks, licking his lips as his mate chuckles into his skin.
"No, my love," Vessel assures him, kissing his claim. Making Ivy shiver.
“He’s waiting for you,” III cuts in gently. Smiles. Eyes crinkling in their corners. “That’s all.”
Ivy’s hand tightens on his fork. His knuckles sting. Vessel kisses his skin once more.
"Maybe I can coax him down here first," Vessel chuckles, leaning away from Ivy and standing upright once again. "Then, you two can go up together and have a little alone time. I'd say you've both earned it."
Ivy looks up fast. Eyes wide. Scent flaring. Heartbeat thumping in his ears.
"Shouldn't we... give him some II-time, as III calls it?" Ivy questions. Doesn't miss III's amused snort. Or Vessel's wolfish smile.
”He asked me earlier, when I ran up to get my phone, to give him a little time. He didn’t say don’t come up here. He just wanted a moment,” Vessel's already moving, still grinning. "I think he might have gotten lost in that pretty little head of his. You can take him out of it, though."
III watches him go. His fingers drumming a slow rhythm against the side of his glass. Ivy's lips part. A shuddered breath escaping him. His cock stirs to life. Twitching hard in his joggers as his Alpha blinks itself fully awake. He feels instincts simmering beneath his conscious thought. Feels the drive to give into them. Feels like he, too, wants to let go for a while. He hasn't indulged it in ages. Knows his instincts will fight him tooth and nail if he doesn’t give them what they want. What they crave. What he does.
"You can give in," III says with a knowing smile. Ivy looks up quickly. Feels the healing bite marks on his neck sting as his head jerks upright. He holds III's gaze. Drowning in the kindness that simmers in his blue-green eyes. "Little love can take it. He handles Vessel, and Vessel's ruts are... well... you and I can't handle those for him. Vessel's always got a knot, unlike us. In rut or out of it. His body is built for... well, the thing we are meant to do. II takes him without complaint. He'll take you without complaint, too."
Ivy sits with that for a moment. Imagining II, curled up and flushed. Surrounded by fabric and scent and soft things. Things that smell like them. Patient. Pliant. Waiting.
He doesn’t realize how long it’s been until the stairs creak.
Vessel comes into view again. His arms are full. Ivy's heart is even fuller.
II’s wrapped around Vessel like silk. One of Ivy’s shirts clings to the little Omega's pale skin, slipping down one shoulder. His smooth legs are bare. His skin glows pink at the edges, flushed. His pale blond hair is a soft mess. Waves falling at odd angles. Framing his content expression. His pretty eyes are lidded and unfocused. But the moment that he sees Ivy, something shifts. His breath catches. Ivy's breath goes with it.
Vessel holds II a little tighter, leans down, and kisses the top of his head. II presses his face to Vessel’s collarbone and hums. Mumbling something soft. Something quiet. Something not meant for his ears.
III stands and walks toward them. II doesn’t move when he’s passed over. Just tucks his face into III’s neck like he belongs there too. II nuzzles him. Sighing softly. Burying his face into III's skin as the bassist's smile widens.
“Hi, little love,” III whispers, cradling him. II hums again. Softer. Scent curling. Heady. Sweeter. Not quite teetering on the cusp of heat but saccharine all the same. It's intoxicating. It's mouth watering. It's simmering with arousal.
Ivy's cock hardens before the thought even finishes crossing his mind. His scent flares. He bites his lower lip. Watching through half lidded eyes. Instincts begging for a taste. For a bite. For something only II can give him.
III presses a kiss just behind II's ear. Then lifts his eyes to Ivy.
“You ready for him?” III asks, unshakable calm in place once more. Ivy shivers.
"Yeah," Ivy’s throat tightens. Constricting as he shifts in his seat. Waiting. Patient. Always so patient. Always whatever II needs him to be.
III kisses II one more time. One hand strokes down his spine, soothing him. Then he steps forward.
“Take good care of our little love.” III says with a beautiful smile as he transfers II into Ivy’s arms, careful and slow.
Ivy feels the weight of those words settle in his chest. He tightens his grip just slightly, overcome with how precious II feels in his arms. Then, II melts into his hold. Ivy holds him closer. Shudders when II's breath ghosts over his scent gland. When II buries his face in it and whines. Ivy's never heard II make a sound like it before. Completely gone. Soft. So very soft. Sweet. Sweeter than his honey. Than his vanilla. Than his fields of sprawling flowers. Ivy's cock leaks in his pants. His eyes dilate. His instincts teeter on the cusp of boiling over to the surface.
All for the one it loves. Who he loves. Who he swore to protect. Who he wants now more than anything. Has always wanted more than anything.
II finally lifts his head. Eyes glassy. Voice barely above a whisper.
“Please," II purrs as he raises a hand and strokes the stubble on Ivy's cheek.
"Anything you want," Ivy says, breathless. Meaning every word. He stands without struggle. Holds II in his arms as Vessel and III offer him fond smiles. Slight nods of their heads. Approval given. Approval received. Ivy breathes in deep, clutching II close as he slowly exits the kitchen with him and ascends the nearby stairwell.
"Spent so long on the nest," II mumbles into his skin, dazed. "Wanted it to be perfect for this. For you."
Ivy enters the open bedroom door. Matte gray walls. Soft cream colored sheets. Glowing softly with twinkling fairy lights. Scentless candles lit. He smiles, shutting the door behind them as II shifts in his arms.
"It's perfect," Ivy says sincerely. "You're perfect."
"Then let go for me," II breathes out, a quiet plea. Ivy's Alpha stills, then surges. "Make me yours."
He lowers II down on the bed gently. Looming over his lithe frame with reverence as II's half-lidded eyes hold his gaze. They're dilated, a small halo of blue around bottomless black. II's skin flushes. Soft. Pretty. Pink. Warm. Inviting. II shuffles back on the bed, giggling as Ivy braces a knee on the mattress. He doesn't wince. Doesn't feel the pain in his backside any longer as II's pale thighs part for him. He curses under his breath, reverent fingers carefully sliding over creamy, muscular thighs as II sighs softly.
"Kiss?" II lilts, head turning to the side. And it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. II's pink lips parted. Glossy like his eyes. Hands reaching upward to beckon for him. Ivy growls, but it's a quiet thing. Swallowed up entirely by II as he leans down and pushes their lips together.
II's mouth is warm. Heavenly. Velveteen and pliant. Ivy's tongue darts in, flicks over the little Omega's sharp teeth as II groans. Their tongues meet, and II is quick to relent. To his prodding. To the slow drag. To the pressure. Ivy's body lowers. Settles on II's. He feels the drummer's cock through the outline of his tiny black shorts. Moans openly as his own cock brushes against it. Painfully hard and leaking in his pants. II's mouth is skilled, his kissing a practiced thing. Ivy indulges him fully. Nipping at his lips. Guiding II's tongue with his own. His hips slowly rocking forward until II lets out an incoherent moan.
"Please, more," II begs, and he begs so prettily.
"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" Ivy grumbles as he hooks his fingers on the hem of II's shirt. His shirt. He lifts it slowly. Shuddering as II shivers beneath him and lifts his defined arms. He throws the shirt on the other side of the nest. Descends slowly as II's hands fly to his hair, holding him in place. Ivy chuckles, licking at II's jaw before he slides his tongue down further. Pressing it flat against the drummer's scent gland. Drinking him in. Breathing him in. Mapping a place in his mind's eye where his claim will shortly go. Mirroring III's. Crossing over Vessel's. An X of bites formed over the Dominant Alpha's central, centered claim.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," Ivy growls, hips rutting as II breathes out and writhes beneath him. II's shorts feel slick. Damp through the layers of their clothing. Ivy salivates, licking away at his neck. "I fell in love with you on the spot. Never wanted someone so bad. Never wanted them like I want you."
"Want you," II pleads, gasping. Ivy sinks down lower, laughing once more as he drags the flat of his tongue against II's collarbone. Tracing it before he dips downward to where II's perk nipples stand erect. Pink. Hard. Delicious. He gently sucks one into his mouth, his hand rising to cup the other pectoral as II tilts his head back and groans. Whines. Thrashes beneath him. "Ivy... please. Now. Need you. I want you. Please."
"Want you to feel good first," Ivy shushes him, lapping at the drummer's sensitive nub before he switches sides. Taking the other nipple into his mouth. Rolling it around. A small pebble against his greedy tongue. II fists his hair. Gasping. Hips stuttering as Ivy takes his time. Tongue flicking. Mouth sucking. Enjoying every shiver. Every moan. Every breathtaking sound.
Then, he shifts once more. Slides down lower. Misses the feeling of II's cock against his own but makes up for it by the way of his tongue. Tracing the lines of II's muscle. His lithe waist. His perfectly curvy hips. He reaches the drummer's waistband. Grinning. II's watery eyes find his. The hands in his hair tighten.
"Can I taste you?" Ivy breathes out huskily. Cock twitching hard. Scent all consuming. Mingling with II's as the little Omega's cheeks flush further. II nods, and that's all the permission he needs. He breathes in deep, letting his Alpha shine through. Just like III advised him. Just like II wants. What it wants. He peels II's damp shorts off with careful hands. Sucks in a hissed breath as II's bare skin comes into view.
"Why is every part of you so fucking gorgeous?" Ivy chuckles darkly. Takes II's pretty cock in hand and gives it a stroke. Revels in the way II's head falls back in an unabashed moan before Ivy leans forward, licking the bead of dripping pre from II's pink tip. "So fucking sweet."
II screams as Ivy takes him in. Hollowing his cheeks. Tongue dancing over his heated length. II's size is impressive for an Omega. Average on a Beta. Even now, every part of him is a surprise. Beautiful. More than he ever expected. But Ivy takes in II's length with ease all the same. Instincts partially to thank.
He bobs his head up and down. Sucking. Flicking his tongue. Drinking in II's sweet tasting pre as it dribbles down his throat. II moans openly. Holding his head in place as Ivy goes down entirely. Pressing his nose into II's freshly shaved pubic bone while the little Omega pants. Bucking his hips when Ivy lets his hold on his hips go.
"Gonna... cum," II breathes out. Whines when Ivy hums around him. Encouraging him. Desperate to taste it. Desperate to feel it. The moment that II falls apart. II cums with a scream of his name. Sends his own cock twitching as he drinks down the burst of cum that hits that back of his throat. It's intoxicating. His scent. The smell of lavender, honey, and vanilla. The taste of him. He pulls off slowly. Feels II's chest heaving as Ivy kisses II's pretty cock and lets it gently down with his hands.
He doesn't give him time to think. To recover. Instinct and eyes alike narrowing in on II's leaking hole as he hikes the little Omega's legs up. He puts them on his shoulders. Licking his lips in anticipation as slick drips out of II's fluttering, welcoming hole.
"Can I?" Ivy asks, voice dark and gravelly. Taken with lust.
"Fuck, yes," II begs, spreading his legs wider. Hooking them further on Ivy's shoulders as Ivy shudders and slowly leans in.
His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt and sweetness mingled in II’s slickness. It’s intoxicating. A flavor woven from months of stress nesting and patient, growing desire. II whines once more. The sound completely instinctual. Completely blissful. Ivy growls against his slick drenched hole. Presses his tongue in deeper, slow and reverent, before circling the delicate rim with precision. He savors the subtle give and the silky slick that welcomes him. II arches instinctively. His perfect hips rising to meet the gentle pressure, fingers tangling in Ivy’s hair as a low moan escapes his throat.
Ivy drinks him down. Traces every drop with his tongue. Every gush of fluid that coats and soaks his lips and tongue. The taste is exquisite. Reminds him of honey. Of II's pleasant scent. He growls into his skin. Cock painfully hard and leaking steadily in his pants as II’s breath grows ragged. The sweetness of his scent thickens as Ivy’s mouth traces lazy patterns, coaxing out a new round of moans and shudders.
His Alpha tastes the essence of II’s submission and trust. Each slick drop a sacred token between them. Ivy’s hands cup the soft curves of II’s hips. Steadying him as his tongue works with patient, worshipful hunger.
"Now, please," II gasps, voice trembling as he begs. "Need you so much, Ivy, please."
Ivy answers only with a slow, deep lick, savoring the taste of the Omega who he loves more than life itself.
"Ivy," II whines, and something in Ivy snaps. His Alpha, he realizes. He responds to the sound. The call. The longing.
He doesn't think as he gently sets II's legs on the bed before he kicks off his pants. Pulling his shirt off in a daze as II spreads his pretty thighs for him once again. His eyes meet II's. Blue meeting blue. Lust and devotion. Desire and longing. Choice and instinct. II smiles, tiny fangs glimmering in the fairy light's warm, golden glow.
A hand reaches out, and without hesitation, Ivy takes it.
He leans down, letting II pull him forward until his hips slot into the empty space where II's thighs part. His cock brushes against II's before he shifts. II lets his hand go. Ivy uses it to balance himself on the mattress.. Seizes his weeping cock with the other before dragging it downward. Teasing II's slick soaked rim as warm fluid coats his cock. They both moan. Unabashed. Unafraid. Lost entirely to the feeling of each other.
"Take me," II asks prettily, batting his lengthy lashes. Ivy lets out a shuddered breath as II smiles up at him. "Claim me, my Guardian Alpha."
Ivy nudges forward with a genuine smile. His cock gliding through the warm slick that coats II’s entrance. His breath stutters. So does II’s. Neither of them speaks for a moment. They just breathe. Just look at each other. Eyes melding into one. Two souls peering into the window of the other.
II’s thighs tremble around Ivy’s hips. The little Omega is flushed all the way to his chest. His chest rises in quick, shallow bursts between them. His deft fingers curl gently at the base of Ivy’s spine. Ivy moans openly, pressing his cock further in. Slowly. Carefully. Reverently.
II’s slick drenched hole parts for him with no resistance. It clings to Ivy’s cock in warm, silken ribbons. Welcoming him in. Pulling him deeper with each inch. The heat of II’s body is almost unbearable. Tight. Wet. Velvet-slick and pulsing. Rhythmic like his drumming. He could cum just from II's natural movements alone, he realizes. He groans at the thought. He's been with Omegas before, but it's never been like this. All consuming. All encompassing. The type of pleasure that makes his thighs shake. Makes his arms tremble. Makes his heart ache.
His eyes flutter closed as he sinks in halfway. Then stops. His free hand flies to II’s hip, holding him steady. Grounding himself. Grounding the little, shaking Omega beneath him.
“You okay?” Ivy rasps, voice nearly cracking. He doesn’t move again until II replies. Until he and his Alpha both know that II and his Omega are fine. That they want this as much as he does. That they feel as good as he does.
“Yes,” II whispers, breathless and beautiful. His pretty ashes flutter. His swollen, pink lips part. “You feel so good….”
Ivy breathes in deep. And for a moment, he fights his instincts. Fights the desperate urge to rut. To claim. To make him his. But he waits. He always waits. He'd wait forever if he needed to. He will always give II the choice. The final say.
And II gives it.
“More,” II says softly. “All of you. Please, Ivy.”
Ivy presses forward again, inch by inch, until his hips finally meet the soft give of II’s slick covered ass. Until there’s nowhere else to go. Until he’s buried to the hilt. II's hole clenches down around him.
They both shudder. Hard.
Ivy braces himself above II. Forearms pressing into the mattress. His forehead comes to rest against II’s. Their noses touch. Their lips hover. Their hearts thunder. Their breaths synchronize. II wraps his legs around Ivy’s waist and pulls him even closer. Ivy grinds down into him slowly. Not snapping his hips just yet. Not giving into desire. Basking in II's warmth. His searing heat. His perfect body and the mind numbing pleasure it gives him.
“You’re inside me,” II breathes out. Voice light and dreamy. “You’re really inside me…”
Ivy kisses him softly. Hips moving back as he finally gives into his Alpha. Feels the moment that II relinquishes his control to his Omega. Their tongues meet in a slow, rhythmic dance. II's arms encircle his neck. Holding him close. Ivy slowly fucks into him. Rolls his hips forward and drags his cock back before sliding back in. Moaning against II's pillow soft lips as the little Omega whines beneath him.
"I love you," II whispers against his lips. Panting. Each word broken apart by another gorgeous moan. "Love you so much. Was so scared you'd... leave me."
“I’m yours,” Ivy murmurs into II’s mouth. “Always have been. I would never leave you, my love. I swear to you."
"Make me yours then," II pleads, eyes glassy as Ivy's cock brushes into that place inside of him that makes the drummer see stars. Ivy moans alongside him. Hits it time and time again. Feels II's slick walls constrict around him. Eagerly accepting his cock. Pulsing around it. His body perfectly unwound. Desperate to give him pleasure. It feels better than anything he's ever felt before. Being inside of II. Feeling II's sweat damp brow against his own. Hearing his breathy cries and pretty sighs. Feeling his legs dragging him forward.
"You want me to claim you now?" Ivy mumbles, lips rolling down to II's scent gland as the little Omega whines and gasps beneath him. "You want me to make you cum so soon, love?"
"Please," II whimpers, arms holding him close as Ivy's hips snap a bit harder now. Desperate to give II pleasure. To feel his tight hole flutter around him. To feel the sensations that only an Omega's body can provide. A feeling like nothing else. Sheer ecstasy. Amber curls in the air. Warm leather dancing alongside lavender as II's moans become incoherent. Ivy growls. Slams his hips forward. Knows II can take it. That he wants it. Nails dig into his skin. The drummer's legs tighten around him. Drawing him in.
His Alpha howls with pleasure. With delight. Begs for release. To spill inside of II. To give them both what their bodies crave. Each other.
"Being so good for me," Ivy praises him, knowing how much II liked it. How much he liked it. Giving and getting praise. II's pretty cock bounces between them. Leaking fluid on their bodies as Ivy strikes II's prostate with precision. Grumbling. Growling. Chasing his pleasure. Needing to feel II cum. Needing for his aching, twitching cock to be taken in as deeply as II's little body would allow.
"Always good for you," II promises him, words sweet. Soft. And Ivy curses once more. Snaps his hips harder, pressing kisses into the spot that would soon bare his claim. His mark. Forever giving II a piece of himself. "Feel... so... good. Gonna... please, please, please."
"Cum for me, my love," Ivy commands him with a deep, gravelly growl. II's hole clenches around him from the sound. "I have you. Let go for me, II."
"Ivy," II moans, lips parting. Lips seeking. Ivy grumbles, groaning as he bares his neck and buries himself to the hilt inside of II. The little Omega's legs tighten around him. Holding him in place as II's cock spurts a small dribble of cum between them. Ivy moans, leaning forward as his aching teeth dance over II's swollen scent gland before sinking in. II's teeth are sharp. The little Omega bites his neck hard.
Ivy's eyes dilate. Feels the pressure on the center of his scent gland as his venom sinks into II's pale skin. II's venom rushes over him like a balm. His eyes blow wide as he cums, hips stuttering forward. Eyes slamming shut. Moaning and groaning around II's scent gland as the little Omega bites a fresh claim into his swollen, sore neck. II whimpers against him. Whines something instinctual as Ivy's cum spills deep inside of him. Filling him. Spilling out from where Ivy's balls lie flush against the curve of II’s soft ass.
They hold each other there. Teeth sank into skin. Ivy's cock buried inside of II's quivering, silken heat.
It's heaven.
His Alpha sings. Settles. Breathes in its new purpose. His new light. His new life. His everything. The center of everything.
II.
"I love you so much," Ivy confesses as his teeth slowly leave II's skin. He laps the blood up from his claim. Tongue dancing over the beads of blood as II sniffles against him. Ivy doesn't look. Knows better than that. Affords II his moment as the little Omega's teeth sink in further as if he's afraid that Ivy will leave. Will disappear. Will never truly be his.
Ivy feels it.
II's relief. His happiness. His contentment. His pleasure. His residual fear.
He nuzzles into his skin. Kisses and licks every mark his teeth made that he can reach this way. Then, he traces III's. Then Vessel's. All the while II refuses to let go of his neck. Teeth still sank in deep in Ivy’s neck. Tears pouring from his pretty eyes. Falling down his cheeks. Sliding down his neck to Ivy's waiting tongue.
"I'm yours, II," Ivy promises him. Kisses his neck again as II finally lets go, then shudders from a whimpering cry. Ivy's heart aches. His Alpha rises. Cuddles its beloved in its embrace. Ivy holds II close. Lets his cock stay inside of him. Breathing in his scent. His warmth. His life. His everything.
"I'll never leave your side," Ivy vows, words met with another sniffle as II holds him close.
Ivy feels it the moment that II softly, painfully, lets go, too.
-
"Well, if it isn't our beautiful mates."
Ivy smiles, laughing softly at III's greeting as he carries a very satisfied II in his arms. II whimpers softly, cheeks still flushed. Smile still on his swollen lips as the little Omega reaches outward. Vessel grins, reaching back for him until Ivy gently lowers his new mate into his other mate's arms. II all but buries himself into Vessel's skin. Nuzzling. Whining softly. Overcome. Taken with instinct. Sweet in a way that makes Ivy's teeth ache as III stands and wraps his arms around Ivy’s waist.
"Must have been pretty good to him," III chuckles, kissing his jaw. "II usually hates giving control over to his Omega for this long outside of a heat."
"He's... everything," Ivy says sincerely, laying his head over III's rapidly beating heart as the bassist rocks them gently back and forth. Ivy breathes in deep his scent. His fire. His woodlands. His calm. His chosen. "He's... sweet like this."
"Don't get used to it," Vessel tells him. Laughing as II nips at his jaw with sharp teeth. Playful. But warning. "See? He bites."
"Never wants to let go either," III snorts, kissing Ivy's brow. "You smell... perfect. Like us. I'm... happy, Ivy. We wanted you as a full member of this pack more than words could ever say."
"You have no idea how happy that makes me," Ivy mumbles. Then laughs. Feels III chuckle as Vessel cackles. II merely grumbles. Creaking open a single, pale blue eye. "Well, maybe you do know."
Before III can answer, or Ivy can so much as blink, a sharp sound fills the room. Echoing off the walls.
The doorbell.
"Must be our groceries," Vessel sighs as II shifts, blinking himself back to consciousness beneath his Omega's contentment. “III and I ordered a few things. We figured you two would be hungry.”
"I'll get it," Ivy says with a smile, parting from III. "You two should have a moment with little love here."
"We won't argue with that," III chuckles, kissing Ivy's cheek once more. "Thanks, handsome."
"And you all call me the smooth-talker," Ivy snickers. Fingers pulling up his grey sweats over his bare hips as he crosses the room towards the door. His Alpha stirs. Ready to defend. But he shushes it. Reminds it and himself that Vessel is there. Their pack leader. Their immovable wall. That III is there with his quiet strength. Emotionally attuned to II's state of mind as the little Omega descends from his scent drunk high.
Ivy wipes a hand over his exposed muscles before brushing the leftover sweat on his thigh. Answering the door a moment later.
He feels his Alpha forcibly blink to life once more.
Dark Amber. Rose petals. Sandalwood.
Alpha.
His eyes dilate.
Ivy’s gaze hones in on the figure standing on the porch. Shifting their weight against the setting sun. He's tall. Handsome. A little on the heavy side but obviously strong. Dark hair lies pushed back on his head. His clean shaven face falls in angular lines. There are no groceries on the porch. None in his hands. The stranger’s brown eyes meet Ivy's own. He watches as they fall first to his neck, then to his state of undress. The other Alpha breathes in deep. Smelling the air. Ivy watches as the stranger’s expression crumbles.
And it is then that he notices the blood on the corner of the stranger's mouth. The bruise on his neck. The cut on his ear. The unsteadiness of his feet as he wobbles from one leg to another. Favoring the left over the right.
Injured.
Ivy's instincts boil over. On alert. Eyes narrowing. Demanding him to be on the defensive. To look for threats. To consider the unknown man before him as a potential one. His hair stands on end. Goosebumps blossom over his exposed flesh. The cool night air forces a shudder out of him as he eyes the unknown man up and down. Calculating. Accessing. Weighing the severity of his injuries. The severity of the potential threat.
When the stranger speaks, his voice is softer than Ivy would have imagined it.
Pained. Gentle. Twinged with something that he can't quite place.
But the Alpha's scent sours as he speaks.
"Is... Vessel around?"
Ivy blinks. Unnerved. Scent flaring. A snarl moves to form on his lips. His mind racing. It doesn't occur to him that this man could be someone his mate knows. It doesn't occur to him that the man before him is someone more than familiar to those whose claims sit so proudly on his exposed neck.
There is the thunderous sound of footsteps behind him. Vessel shouts something. III curses under his breath and calls a familiar name.
A hand pushes past Ivy. Brushes him aside with unbelievable strength from such a tiny, shaking frame.
II comes to a halt beside him.
Ivy cranes his neck. Watches his little mate's eyes as they dilate. Glassy. Blown wide.
II's voice cracks as he speaks. The weight behind his voice hits like a blow to the chest. Ivy's world tilts on its axis once again.
"Fore...."
Notes:
I did warn you all to buckle up. ;)
Chapter 15: Dissonance
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Angst.
The tags were initially created when this fic was intended to be 50k words. That has since changed. I also said 100k words would resolve this. That, too, has changed. I won't give an exact number, but if this fic hits 200k by the end, I would not be surprised.
That being said, heed the tags, please.
No spoilers from me. Enjoy. And buckle up, lovelies. <3
Notes:
Before anything else, I have something amazing to share. The absolutely lovely and incredible ghostsvessel has completely rendered the pack house in the Sims and so kindly allowed me to share it with you all. This is absolutely amazing, and even better than I imagined.
Check it out here: LENSFLARE Pack House
Also, a huge shoutout to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel and to sebastoratchet for the help brainstorming and for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
I will reply to all the comments from the last chapter over the next few days. I'm swamped with work, at the moment, but I will do my absolute best. You all are insanely amazing. Your support means a lot. <3 I adore this community.
As always, take care and enjoy!
Chapter Text
Ivy doesn't even have time to blink.
"Put me down!" II howls, beating on III's back as the bassist crosses the threshold, scooping the little Omega into his arms. II hisses. A sound he's never heard his little mate make before.
Ivy feels it. II's love. His pain. His confusion. His anger.
His distress.
It hurts.
Like being cut open with a sharp knife. Like snapping a bone in two. Like his heart has been ripped out of his chest.
A hand clamps down on his shoulder. Snaps him out of his stupor. Awakens his Alpha from its agony over II's miserable scream.
Vessel.
"You need to leave," the Dominant Alpha says. Voice dripping with venom. Ivy breathes out. Allows his mate to drag him back inside. Vessel's imposing frame fills the doorway. Scent rushing over him like a flood. The air all but crackles around him. Nature itself gives way to his palpable fury. II's enraged cries ring in his ears as the little Omega continues to try to squirm out of III's hold. But III's face is stern as Ivy turns toward him. Blue-green eyes meet his. Steeled. Resolved. Unyielding. II lets out a frustrated groan and kicks his legs.
III doesn't so much as budge, merely sharing a glance with Ivy instead. One that says more than words ever could.
"Let go of me!" II screeches as III makes towards the staircase that will lead them towards their bedroom. To II's nest. To safety. "III!"
II is safe, he tells himself to still the bristling of his Alpha. Safe with III. Safe with Vessel guarding his territory. With Ivy poised beside him.
II is safe.
II is devastated.
Ivy grits his teeth. Hands curling into fists. Chest puffing outward. He fills the remaining gap in the doorway, the one that Vessel's body doesn't quite cover. His mate stands a little taller. Emboldened, maybe. The night air spills in from the open door, damp with evening dew and kissed with the scent of Vessel's ocean. Of Ivy's amber and sun-kissed leather.
Of Fore's complex, soured scent.
Alone.
Bloody.
Unarmed.
Injured.
His clothes are wrinkled. Stained with something too dark to be mud the more that Ivy studies it. His bruised fingers twitch slightly, perhaps involuntarily. His other hand is pressed flat to his ribs like he's holding himself together by sheer will and determination. Adrenaline. He's severely hurt. There's a boot print on his jeans, plastered against his skin.
He doesn't look like a threat. Merely like a man who has lost everything.
But it’s his face that gets Ivy. That makes his chest twist.
His skin is pallid now. Eyes rimmed red. Perhaps from crying. Perhaps from exhaustion. Perhaps from something deeper. Like grief.
“Vessel,” Fore rasps, winces as he shifts his weight once again. “Please... let me explain.” His voice is quieter now, wound tight like silk. Yet, he speaks as if he’s tasting blood in his mouth and doesn’t want to let it show. Ivy notices it all the same. The fresh smear of crimson that oozes out of the corner of his trembling lips. “I’m not here to start anything. You have to believe me."
Vessel’s arm bars Ivy across the chest again. Protective. Unyielding. Ivy's Alpha bristles, but his heart sings.
“You knew that he’d be here,” Vessel says, voice gravelly and low. “You knew what showing your face would do to him.”
Fore’s jaw clenches. His gaze flicks past them, toward the archway beyond them where II had vanished, wrapped up in III's arms. He visibly sways, catches himself on the porch's support beam.
“I can't even... begin to tell you how much that sound he made hurts me,” Fore says, sadness dripping from his words. He sags further against the post, hissing under his breath. “You should know that... above all, I never wanted him hurt. I was just... too weak back then. I couldn't help myself."
A beat. A breath. Time stretches. It's Fore who breaks the silence.
“I came here because I didn’t know where else to go," he confesses, sliding down the support beam. Ivy's fingers twitch. Instinct not easily stifled. Even if Fore was not someone his Alpha deigned to protect, it was difficult watching someone else fall apart. Give in to the pain. The physical and the mental.
"A hospital would have been the better choice," Vessel grumbles, but there's less venom in his words now. Ivy swallows thickly.
"I just wanted to be somewhere safe," Fore confesses. His voice cracks at the end. Just enough to be noticeable. Just enough to be anything but intentional. Fore grimaces, bowing his head low. In shame. In defeat. In anguish.
It's not a performance. Ivy would know. So would Vessel.
Vessel studies Fore's shaking frame in silence. The Dominant Alpha's scent is coiled like a viper ready to strike, but it shifts. Subtly. Uncertainty, maybe. Or old hurt. Ivy doesn't ask, but he already knows the answer.
"You have every reason to turn me away, I know that," Fore continues. "I'm not asking for a second chance here, Vessel. I know you don't give those anymore. I know it's my fault that you don't... but," Fore coughs, a wet sound. Ivy doesn't need to look to know that what flies from the other Alpha's mouth is spittle and blood. "It's strange, really. I just... needed to know that he was okay without me. Even now. Like this. It was all I could think about.."
“Tell me what happened, Fore,” Vessel growls, sharp and instant. A demand. A command. The weight of a Dominant Alpha's barely contained fury. The ocean swells. Ivy's hand finds the small of Vessel's back. Hopes he can reach him then. Temper the growing storm. The strength that defied the natural order of things. The furrow in his mate's brow. Ivy can't feel Vessel's emotions.
But he can still feel II's earth shattering grief.
Fore lifts both trembling hands in surrender, eyes wide with a plea Ivy hadn’t expected. Body slumped entirely against the porch's pillar for support. Judging by the way Vessel's breath catches, stills under Ivy's palm, Vessel hadn't expected it either.
"The band I was with had a gig in east London," Fore explains, teeth chattering. "They... brought this Omega back to the motel... and... she was so drunk. I told them off for it, got her out of there, but... you know how it is, Vessel. There are things we can muffle, but we can never really silence them. Instincts are loud. I just wanted... to go to sleep."
Fore laughs. It's an entirely bitter sounding thing.
"We got into it," Fore chuckles lowly, spitting more blood on the pristine white wood beneath him. "They jumped me. Broke my guitar over the nightstand. Took my wallet. A whole year of thinking I knew these guys... all down the drain. I had enough change in my pocket for a bus ticket. I walked here from the final stop."
Another pause.
Another shift in scent.
“You left him,” Vessel says bitterly. "You left us. You have no right coming here seeking sanctuary, Fore."
“I loved him,” Fore replies, choking on his words. He sucks in a hissed breath. Pained. Ivy hates how much genuineness he can hear in his words. How much he can feel Fore's sincerity. Discern it in the Sanctuary Alpha's scent. “I care about all of you. I still do. But I know now that I wasn’t the kind of Alpha that II needs, Vessel. I was suffocating him and I didn’t even realize it. Not when he told me that I was smothering him. Not when you kicked me out. It took time and distance. Hindsight. But I get it now."
Fore lets out a humorless laugh.
"Back then, II… he looked at me like I was something that he was trying to survive. Not someone he loved anymore," the Sanctuary Alpha's voice stutters. Pauses. When he looks up, there are barely contained tears in his dark eyes. That hits Vessel like a bullet. Ivy feels the way that he flinches. His breath barely perceptible. His heartbeat erratic under Ivy's fingertips. "Gods, I screwed up. I get it now. I get it. Let me apologize. Let me make it right. I'll... leave, Vessel. I'll leave, and if you never want to see me again, if II and III never want to see me again, I'll stay gone. But... please, help me and let me make this right before I go."
Fore lowers his gaze.
“I've changed, Vessel. I swear I have," Fore sniffles. His limbs shake as he lowers his arms. Pressing them against the painted wood beneath them. White, splattered with blood. "I'm not asking for a second chance with someone, with a pack, that I don't deserve. I'm just asking for a little help and the opportunity to atone for the pain that I caused. I'm... begging you."
The porch goes quiet. A minute passes. Maybe two.
Vessel breathes slow and steady, his hand still blocking the doorway. Ivy forgets how to breathe in the breadth of silence that passes between them.
“You get one night,” Vessel says at last. “You don’t speak to him unless he initiates it. Don't even think about overstepping. II is our mate. Not yours. And if you disrespect me, raise your voice to III, or cause an issue with IV, II will put you in the hospital myself.”
Vessel lowers his arm. Shifting in the doorway. Grabbing Ivy with such gentleness that it belies the simmering sadness in his soft caramel eyes. The lingering fury in his trembling hands. Ivy swallows thickly. Knows a silent command when he sees one. His Alpha ducks its head. Doesn't trust the man bleeding on the covered porch, but trusts its mate's judgement. Reluctantly, Ivy steps aside.
“Thank you," Fore nods once. No hesitation. Clambering to his injured leg and hissing out of apparent agony before he nearly falls off the porch. Ivy curses, sidesteps his mate and slips out of Vessel's hold. He grabs Fore by the arm. Steadies him. Growls out of instinctual need, but Fore doesn't rise to his posturing. The Sanctuary Alpha only looks down, offering him a small, poorly concealed smile. "I appreciate your help.”
Bearing the other's weight, sturdy even when Fore's towering frame nearly crashes into his own. Unsteady. Exhausted. Hurt. Dripping blood on the wooden floors as Ivy helps the Sanctuary Alpha into the house. Vessel watches them both like a hawk. Eyes dilating. Growing darker.
"I'll... let the others know?" Ivy offers his mate a shaky grin.
"Get him on a chair in the kitchen," Vessel directs, voice brokering no argument. "I'll keep an eye on him."
Ivy shivers. Can't help himself. Neither can Fore. Vessel's presence slams into them both like a hurricane as the Dominant Alpha slams the front door shut and locks it immediately.
That’s when it hits Ivy. Registers. Leaves him reeling. Skin pale. Palms damp. Heart fluttering against his ribs like wings caught in a cage.
There's a scent patch on Fore's neck, covering his scent gland. But it does nothing to stifle his smell.
Fore’s scent, the first distinctive note...
It's amber.
Just like his.
-
Ivy keeps his head bowed, fingers gripping the frayed edges of his favorite gray hoodie, as II clicks his tongue.
It's the loudest sound in the kitchen. Followed up by the sound of a wash rag being rung out into the sink for easily the thirtieth time. Vessel is a statue. Unmoving. A silent, but domineering sentry leaning against the nearby countertop. III sits next to Ivy, fingers drumming nervously on his bouncing knee as II curses under his breath and reaches blindly for the bandages. The air is stifling. No one dares speak as II continues his work.
Harmony coils in the air. Instinctive. The silent offering of peace.
None of them take it. No one but Fore.
Based on everything Ivy knows about Fore, it's the first time he willingly accepts it.
He tries not to read too deeply into it. Fails. Feels his scent souring the air. Beaten, old leather. Crushed amber. Amber.
Ivy scoffs, just barely. Startles III from his reverie as the bassist places a hand on Ivy's knee. Ivy doesn't look up to meet his gaze. Can't bring himself to do it. Not when he's still reeling. Not when every breath tastes like his scent. Like Fore's.
"There," II declares at last, speaking after time untold spent in silence. The little Omega sighs. "Honestly, you're still such... an idiot."
Fore laughs, chuckling deeply.
"Yeah," Fore agrees, as if it's the easiest admission he's ever made. "I know."
There is a pause. Time stretches. Fore sucks in air through gritted teeth.
"II, I..." he trails off. Ivy listens. Eyes boring holes through the mahogany table the four of them sit at while Vessel watches over them. The Dominant Alpha still leaning against the counter. A constant, steady presence. Overseeing. II huffs. When Fore speaks, Ivy can hear the tremble in his jaw through the tone of his voice. "I'm so very sorry... for everything that I put you through. You... look happy now. I'm... I'm glad."
"I am happy," II says quietly, but Ivy can feel the lie. As can III. As can Vessel. None of them say a word. "I was happier before you... showed up."
"I’ve always had a way of doing that, haven't I? Ruining your good moods," Fore muses, and it is then that Ivy raises his head. Sees the defeat, the solemnity in Fore's dark eyes. The white bandages wrapped around his hands. Ivy brushes his fingers over his own bandages. Shifting them against his knuckles. "This is the last time. I promise you, II."
"So get it over with," II hisses, rising from his stool. Ivy watches, feels it, the moment that II's expression falls. Crumbling. "Go on, then. Hurt me one last time."
"I never wanted to hurt you," Fore explains, gaze lingering on II's. Ivy watches his little mate's pale eyes. Feels the ocean of tears he's fighting to keep back. Ivy's always known that II was tough, had to be tough, but feeling his resolve was something else entirely. II scoffs, flowers losing their petals as Fore scoots forward on his chair.
Vessel growls. Drones. The noise is so low, so instinctual, that Ivy can barely classify it as human. His Alpha pales. He pales. Fore looks stricken. II's eyes look glassy. III's breath has never sounded so quiet.
"Vessel," II says quietly. Pleadingly. Ivy's heart feels like it's been torn in two. Vessel quiets, scent dampening with the dwindling of sound.
"He has every right to be angry with me. And Vessel, I know you said no second chances," Fore continues as he scratches at the patch on his neck. "I don't expect one either. I really do just want to make amends. I don't want this anger lingering in the back of our minds any longer than it already has. It was never going to work. We... we just weren't compatible. As Alphas. Not you. Not me. Not III. It's in my nature, Vessel. You know that. Sanctuary instincts are hard coded into my DNA. I couldn't just turn it off."
"I never expected you to," Vessel clarifies. Voice stern. "I expected you to respect our decision. II's decision. I know that you wanted what you thought was best for him, and that it came from a place of love, but that's not what II wanted. You never seemed to understand that."
"I can see that now," Fore agrees. Surprisingly easily. Ivy feels his mouth go dry. Snarls without meaning to. III's hand tightens on his knee. "Hindsight, like I said. I don't think that the choices you all have made are wrong. They were just... wrong for me, back then. It hurt me to see II disrupted that frequently. I acted out because of that."
"Don't fucking talk about me like I'm not right here," II lashes out at last. Forces the snarl on Ivy's lips to fade as II's hands curl into fists.
"You're right. I shouldn't have said that," Fore says with a look so sad that it's indisputable proof of his remorse. Ivy smells it the second that it happens. How II's fiery resolve breaks like a dam. Feel it as hurt pours into a wound that the little Omega has tried so desperately to keep closed. "I hurt you the worst, Toby. I'm so... so sorry. That was the last thing I wanted. I need you to understand that."
Toby.
Ivy feels sick to his stomach.
II furiously shakes his head. Ivy can't see his expression but can feel the sense of loss within him. Wonders then if II simply lacks the ability to form words in that moment as Vessel kicks off of the counter. The Dominant Alpha slings an arm around II's shoulders and draws him in. Protective. Territorial. Loving. Soothing. Comforting. Everything. All at once.
"I'm to blame, I know," Fore sighs. His eyes are painfully soft when he looks at II. Ivy can't stand the sight. But can't bring himself to look away. Too on edge. Too riled up. Alpha too loud in his head. To thundering in his chest. He wants to take II away from here. Away from Fore. More than anything. To force Fore away from them. But Vessel won't allow it. II wouldn't want that.
And Ivy... Ivy has to make peace with that.
"I hope that in time you can find it in yourselves to forgive me. All of you," Fore breathes out. Smiling. But it's a forced, exhausted looking thing. Ivy might feel bad for the guy in any other set of circumstances. But here, he feels nothing but selfish desire. The desire to see him removed from the situation. Removed from their gazes. Far, far away from them all. "I respect what you're doing, Vessel. And III, mate, I am really bloody sorry for how things went down between us. You were my good friend once. I still consider you my friend, even now. I really do miss hanging out with you."
III sighs deeply as he leans forward, bracing his free elbow on the edge of the dining table's lacquered surface.
"I appreciate your apology, and that you've done some good, hard thinking about what happened." III answers with a curt nod. "But I don't think anything will change, Fore. The damage is done. We don't have to hate each other, but we can't go back to how we were before. You know that."
III's fire seems duller somehow.
"I do," Fore admits with another humorless laugh. "Gods, do I know that. Biggest fucking mistake of my life, you know? I've been torn up about it since the night you left me in Cardiff."
Cardiff.
Ivy blanches. Hisses out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. Lost. Agonizing. Rationalizing. Trying. Failing.
Falling.
"Cardiff?" He manages out, breathless. Fore's eyes squint in the corners as the Sanctuary Alpha nods his head.
"Yeah... it was the last stop on our tour," Fore answers and Ivy's vision narrows. Blurry in the corners. Ears ringing. He barely makes out Fore's words as the other Alpha inclines his head. "I was familiar with the area, but... my memories of that place... I can't go back there again."
Ivy, through his haze, could hardly blame him. He couldn't stomach the idea of returning there either. Not now. Especially not now.
Cardiff.
Fore was a guitarist like him. A vocalist like him. A performer. A musician. A man with dreams. A man who smelled like amber. An Alpha who fell in love with an Omega and gave into that instinctual calling. A man whose journey ended in the same place where Ivy's began.
Was that all that he was? Another IV? A replacement for the man in front of him?
Lighter notes of amber settle, plunging deeper into the finer, less palpable smell of worn leather. His heart sinks. He can hardly see the faces of the people around him. Hardly hear their words. He can't see anything anymore. He can't hear anything but the sound of his own heartbeat. He can't feel them. Can't feel anything but the crushing sense of dread that washes over him.
Sadness. Anger. Bitterness. Heartbreak.
His Alpha howls in his chest through the anguish, and for the briefest moment, they share in two distinct, fleeting emotions.
Doubt...
Regret...
He loves II so much that it hurts.
Had it always been that way?
Of course it had. It had been something painful and blinding from the moment he first met the little Omega. From the moment he realized he couldn't have him until the moment he realized that maybe he could.
Ivy thinks of II's pretty smile. The soft waves in his hair. The paleness of his glacial eyes. The delicate scent cut with something angry. The softness. The sass. The feeling of II in his lap. The feeling of II under him. The feeling of his teeth in II's skin. The feeling of II's sharp teeth in his.
He loves II so much that it hurts.
Doubt. Regret. As brief as they are, they pass through his mind as he lowers his unseeing gaze and...
"Don't you dare," II hisses, and the sound is nothing but sheer instinct. Ivy blinks. Doesn't recall II breaking free from Vessel and moving towards him as the little Omega headbutts him gently in the shoulder. Fraying. Frayed. So very frayed. "You can feel me, can't you?"
"Yes," Ivy whispers softly, staring at his trembling hands as they shake in his lap.
"Then don't you ever doubt how much I love you," II growls into his ear. Nuzzles into his bare skin. His neck. His scent gland. II's very own claim. His neck is sore. His heart hurts where it beats in his chest. II stills against him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, raises his head. Looks at Fore. Ivy reluctantly follows his gaze. Maps the other Alpha's quiet devastation as their eyes meet one another's. Blue melding into brown.
II kisses Ivy's cheek. Parts from him a moment later. Walks the short distance around the table and comes to a halt before Fore. Ivy watches, silent. Entranced, as II hooks a fingernail on the patch on Fore's neck and gently peels it downward.
Ivy’s world comes to a halt. His eyes flutter closed, but the image is seared behind his eyelids. It will stay with him forever.
II's teeth marks in Fore's scent gland.
A claim.
"I knew it. You never could make things easy for me, could you?" II mumbles, and Ivy breathes in a stuttered breath. Chokes on the scent of amber. For the first time in his life, he finds it nauseating. III leans into his side. Nuzzling into his skin. Vessel's scent steadies him, but in that moment, he can hardly even smell the rain. "I couldn't... feel you anymore. Not until a little while ago. But why? Why hang on to this, Fore? Why didn't you let Vessel remove it before you left?"
Ivy's eyes snap open.
Lets the words sink in. Lets the pieces click into place.
Vessel has the ability to remove other claims. As a Dominant Alpha, it’s as easy as breathing for him. A quick swipe of his tongue. Erasure encoded in his saliva.
Ivy's widened eyes land on II's neck, and not for the first time, he traces invisible lines on the little Omega's scent gland.
“Why couldn’t you just let go?” II asks slowly, voice cracking from the palpable pain.
"Excuse me," Ivy forces out. Stands. The chair nearly topples over in his haste to leave. III's hand steadies him. Vessel's eyes follow him. II says something but its blocked out by the static.
Harmony reaches out.
The Guardian can’t reach back.
Ivy stumbles up the stairs, to the bedroom that shares their combined scents. To the place where he staked his claims. To the place where they laid their own. He staggers his way into the bathroom, clutching at the double vanity's countertop as he finally looks at his reflection. Eyes tracing over his bare chest. The gleam of sweat on his collarbones. The red, angry skin of his neck. His swollen scent gland.
II's claim, sitting proudly at its center.
Ivy can't bring himself to look his reflection in the eyes.
Stares at the counter top instead.
II. Amber. Cardiff. IV.
Even here, rooms away, he can still feel it in his veins. II's undeniable love for him. His sadness. His confusion. His hurt. His everything.
Ivy's Alpha is a wounded thing as he finally raises his gaze, meeting stormy blue eyes in the mirror as he breathes in deep.
He turns on the sink, splashes his flushed cheeks with cold water, and examines the lines on his neck. Glossing over III’s fanged indentation. Vessel’s low reaching, dominating claim. Eyes focusing on II’s small, sharp teeth marks. His gaze rakes over the once invisible lines he had traced, time and time again. Imagining how it would look on his own skin.
The memory now tainted with the knowledge that II’s claim sat on the same exact place on Fore’s scent gland.
The frigid water makes him shiver. Takes away the edge of the redness that threatens to form in his stinging eyes.
Ivy's never been a crier.
He doesn't plan on doing it again. Not after Vessel had to kiss away his tears.
He shuts off the faucet and hurries to dry his face. Despondent as he snatches a shirt from the edge of the nest and lets it slide over his arms. It smells like III's. It hangs off of his frame, but he's not focused on presentation as he grabs his phone from the nightstand. He leaves the bedroom with steel in his veins. Snatching his old leather coat and shoes from the entryway before he heads towards the kitchen.
He hears quiet voices. Hears II's softly spoken words. Vessel's deep rumble. III's breathy exhales. Fore's surprisingly kind voice.
He passes through the hallway and...
No one stops him. Barely even notices him. His scent is merely more amber passing through.
II is leaning against Vessel's chest. Vessel's eyes are on II and II alone. Fore is looking at both of them. And III... their eyes meet.
Too fleeting for any meaning to be discerned between them.
Glassy green-blue widens a fraction as Ivy's deep blues fall to the floor.
He grips his phone tighter. Slinking through the living room and past the laundry basket and rack that once contained blankets. Devoid now. Empty. Stripped bare when II prepared the nest for Ivy's arrival in it.
He grits his teeth. Slips out of the back door. Lets it slam behind him because at least then the others might notice that he's gone.
It’s late.
The moon is out, illuminating the surrounding nature in tandem with the overhead string lights. Insects hum their familiar tune. Water rushes in the distance, its source just out of view. Ivy sighs as he reaches into his pocket for his smokes. Lighting one with rehearsed ease as he traipses around the lawn furniture. He crashes down on an outdoor couch. Stares up at the tree’s canopy through tired eyes as he takes a long drag off of his smoke.
He wants Vessel. Misses his warmth. The clinginess. The feeling of his breath on his neck. He wants III. His calming, gentle fire. The feeling of his large hands. The smiles he presses into Ivy’s skin. He wants II. His sweet scent. His pretty smile. His endless oceanic eyes. His smaller body pressed against his own.
He wants to know why. Why they never told him how deep their bond with Fore ran. Why they never pointed out the similarities between them. Why they never divulged that Fore was once II’s mate. Why II was still Fore’s.
But he knows why they never said anything. Why they hid the ugly truth.
It was agonizing. For him. For them. For everyone involved. Especially for II.
Fore had claimed II but was incompatible with the pack. And thus, he was never a part of it. Only someone for II. Someone Vessel tried to love. Someone III tried to love. All for II’s sake. But… Fore had wanted that, too. To be a part of it, them. To have more than just II. Yet, Fore was likely the reason that Vessel demanded compliance. Maybe Fore was why Vessel had rules at all. Why he demanded submission. Why his claim had to come first. Why the pack had to come first.
Still… Ivy knows that they love him. He only wonders why?
He wants to know why he’s alone. Why no one followed him. Why no one noticed except for III. Why no one stopped him.
It’s because of II, he tells himself in a bid to calm himself and his mourning Alpha down.
His pain was nothing compared to II’s.
Ivy exhales. Biting back the ugly feeling growing in his chest. The loneliness.
With a shaking hand, he dials a familiar number.
It rings once.
Then twice.
Then finally, an answer.
He slips into his mother tongue as if he never left the walls of his childhood home in Cardiff.
“Mam,” he breathes out as he presses the device to his ear, ashing his cigarette with his other hand. “It’s me, Ivy.”
“Is everything okay?” His mother asks immediately, her tone full of worry. Ivy frowns as he breathes in deep through his nose. “Owen came sniffing around this morning. Your father ran him off. Told him not to come back here looking for trouble.”
“Did he look like proper shite?” Ivy asks with a chuckle. His hand trembles as he brings his smoke back towards his quivering lips. “Owen, I mean.”
“Like someone finally did his head in,” his mother giggles. “Never liked that fellow. Alys was right about him, it seems.”
“She really was,” Ivy admits as his expression crumbles. He closes his eyes. Takes a long drag off of his cigarette. Exhales slowly. “I’m sorry for all this. Worrying you all.”
“You’ve always been good in a scuffle, or so your father tells me,” his mother muses. “I don’t condone violence, Ivy. You know I’m disappointed in the two of you.”
“I know,” he answers, smoke curling around his lips. Wafting into his nostrils. “How is everyone?”
“It’s only been a few days now, sweet boy,” his mother answers with a knowing lilt. “You know nothing changes overnight now. Change is a slow thing, my son.. But don’t think we didn’t notice all the good that you did on your visit. Your dad found the quid you tucked inside his billfold.”
“Does Evan like his new phone?” Ivy questions, feeling his heartbeat quicken as his mother hums on the other end of the line. Answering his query. He scrambles for another. For a distraction. “How was work?”
“It’s hard, Ivy,” his mother tells him. Words he knows. Words that hit him like a punch in the stomach. A stone dropping a crushing weight on his chest. “I don’t think I’ll be in a job much longer. I want to stay, but the expectations… I can’t meet my quota. Lord knows I’m doing me best.”
“You’ve always been such a hard worker,” he agrees, breathing in more smoke. His scent sours. The shake in his hands is noticeably worse. Even here, at this distance, he can still feel II’s sadness. His remorse. His love. Ivy blinks it away. His Alpha, too, needs a rest. Out of sorts from not having his mate in his arms.
His Omega.
Theirs.
“Mortgage is caught up, but the city called about the grass,” she continues and Ivy can’t help but wince. “It’s always something. Bills piling up. House falling to pieces. Alys is doing well, at least. Gareth’s been making enough money to support ‘em well, but… it would be great if she could stay home with the baby.”
Ivy stubs out his cigarette on the cobblestone pavement. He immediately lights another.
“She deserves that,” Ivy agrees. Runs the numbers in his head. How much it would cost for the repairs to the mower. How much it would cost to pay off his childhood home. How much it would cost to replace the van. To buy Evan new clothes so he could stop wearing his old hand-me-downs. How much it would cost Alys to take leave for the child. How much he’d need to…
More than he has.
More than he’s ever had.
More than he probably ever will.
“Are you coming by again before you and those mates of yours head off for the States? It’s a shame they aren’t locals. Maybe when you and Jack replace Owen, you can tour with your band here. Come home and stay for a while, too.”
Ivy blinks, feels smoke stinging his eyes. His vision narrows again.
“Maybe,” he concurs, snubbing his cigarette out before it's half-way through.
There would be no new band with Jack. He had ensured that already when his fist connected with Owen’s jaw. When Bryn had been clued in on the scuffle and chose his side. When Jack cut off contact with both Owen and Bryn, too angry to hear either of them out. When Ieuan had already given up on his dream. Their dream. Then gave up on Ivy all together in the end.
How many years had they spent at each other’s side? How many years had they met up at Gethin’s for a round of drinks? How many nights had they spent in borrowed, beaten up vans? How many difficult times had they helped one another through?
How long would it be before he heard their voices again? Leveled at him without hatred. Without disgust. Without disdain.
How many years had he thrown down the drain?
How many years would it have taken for them to get noticed if he had stayed? How many years until they could tour in an actual bus? Sign a record deal of their own? Would it ever have happened? Would he have ever been so fortunate? So lucky?
Would he… ever be enough?
“I have to go, mam. I’ll… give you a ring in the morning,” he mumbles into the receiver before ending the call. He tosses his stubbed out smokes in the nearby waste bin. Breathes in deep the night air. Steels his nerves one final time.
Then he walks towards the backdoor to the house.
Back to the life that he chose for himself.
Chapter 16: Breakdown
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Angst. Anxiety attacks. Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of abandonment. Mentions of severe illness. Some world building that is not favorable to our characters here.
Please proceed with caution, if you need to. Tags will be updated accordingly.
Notes:
Hello! This chapter is gigantic. 9k words. So, not much else to say.
A huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 And again, another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for the help brainstorming and for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
I am soooo sorry for falling behind on replying to comments. I am officially on a mini-vacation and will be responding to as many comments as I can over the course of the next few days. Do know that I have read every single one of them, and I cannot thank you all enough for the support on this fic. You all are so lovely. <3
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Ivy re-enters the house, it is to the sight of everyone present in the living room.
II is cradled in Vessel's arms. III shifts his weight beside them. Bleary eyed. Exhausted. Upset in a way that Ivy's never seen him before.
And Fore...
"I'm really sorry for everything, Toby," Fore exhales, and Ivy can see the redness around his eyes. "Before you go to bed... do you... mind if I use the blanket over there?"
Ivy's eyes snap to the basket on the floor. To the soft blue, worn threaded blanket that lies at the bottom of the otherwise empty basket. His breathing catches as Fore lets out another sigh.
"I'm... surprised to see it here, after all this time," Fore continues. Time stretches. Ivy's heart sinks in the brief silence. "I know it's selfish of me, but... I could really use it tonight. I know why you can't."
II lifts his head. Blond waves falling away from his bloodshot eyes for just long enough for Ivy to see them widen.
He feels it.
Something he never wanted to feel.
It's brief. It's fleeting. Passing. Fading. Barely present. But it’s there.
Love.
Vessel grimaces. III slowly closes his eyes. Ivy looks back to the blanket. The only one in the house not brought into II's nest.
The nest they shared. The nest they mated in. Hurt pools in his gut. But that blanket's frayed threads missing from beneath their forms when he sank his fangs into II's neck is the only thing that keeps him together now. Knowing that II didn't do that to them. To him.
II's scent sours. Anger pulses in Ivy's veins. II's anger. At himself.
"Do... whatever you want," II grumbles, lulling his head back into Vessel's chest as Ivy's eyes slowly flit back to where they stand. "You always have."
"Good night," Fore says through a wobbly smile.
Vessel says nothing. III says nothing. Ivy stands there, blinking.
"I'm...so sorry," II mumbles out softly, brokenly, as they pass. Ivy's heart sinks further. His mouth goes dry. He feels sick to his stomach. Swallows thickly as Vessel shoots him a look that expresses more regret than words could ever convey. Ivy can hardly smell their scents anymore. Holds himself together long enough for III's warm hand on his shoulder to ground him for just a while longer.
III's fingers dig into his shoulder, as if the Empath wishes to nudge him forward towards the distant stairs. But instead, III remains by his side. Not moving either.
Ivy knows what they need of him.
Lets Vessel and II go as Fore raises his gaze and Ivy despondently approaches him, brushing past III.
Fore stands shakily, hobbling towards the basket. Ivy watches him lift the blanket. Watches as he clutches it to his chest. Unsteady on his feet. He doesn't think as he strides forward and catches Fore's elbow. Steadying him before he urges the other Alpha to follow his lead. The walk to the guestroom is spent in silence, but when they arrive, Fore lets out a shaky exhale. III swallows thickly, silently joining them.
"I'm... so terribly sorry that I showed up when I did," Fore expresses as Ivy lowers him to the edge of the bed. Ivy's belongings lie stacked in boxes. Boxes he needs to move. Boxes that hold what little he owns. Worthless possessions. Worthless trinkets from home. He shoves them aside with his boot, jaw clenched. Says nothing as Fore clears his throat. "I know you're upset. But believe me, II... needs you right now. His instincts after mating are... hard on him.”
"Stop talking," Ivy warns him, grunting as he pushes another box aside. He only wanted to unpack his things. Settle into his new home with his new mates. Now, he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to.
III winces. Of course he feels it. Ivy wishes he didn’t.
He tries not to think too deeply about Fore’s words, but the imagery flashes in his mind all the same.
II beneath Fore. II clinging to Fore. II sinking his teeth into Fore's scent gland. Fore claiming II.
Ivy's hands shake as he clears a walkway to the nearby wardrobe. Ignoring III’s eyes on him as he pushes the boxes around. Heart breaking with every step he takes.
"I hurt him," Fore says in spite of his warning. Ivy growls lowly then. But Fore does not posture in response. Merely slumps his shoulders and clutches II's frayed blanket like a lifeline. Cradling it to his chest. "I was his mate, and I left him behind. I destroyed something in him. I… cost him something he can never get back. Don't... blame him for the pain I caused. He loves you. He’s… gods, I never wanted to hurt him."
"I wish you would have stayed gone," Ivy admits, bitterness seeping into his tone. “You could have gone anywhere else in the world.” His breath catches. He sways on his feet. His voice breaks. “Why… why did it have to be here?”
He doesn't stick around for Fore's response. Pushes past III’s stunned frame in the doorway. He nearly trips on the Empath’s feet as he flies out of the guestroom, staggering down the hall.
When did it get so hard to breathe?
His ribs hurt. His eyes blur. His vision tunnels. His hands shake as he hurries up the staircase. III reaches for him but the bassist’s long fingers aren’t quite long enough to reach him. He can't breathe as he heaves the door open to the bathroom. Can't think. Can't breathe. Can't function. His Alpha fixates on one thing. Just one.
However minute it was…
II still loved Fore.
"Ivy!"
III's voice is the last sound he makes out before static fills his ears. He slams the bathroom door shut. Locks it. Staggers forward towards the vanity before his legs give out. He's shaking. Gasping for air. Clutching at his chest. Something wet hits his hands as he tries to prop himself upright.
Tears.
He's never been a crier.
It doesn't make sense.
Nothing makes sense anymore.
His Alpha whines in his chest. He thinks he makes a sound as he collapses on his forearms and buries his face on the sleeve of his worn, leather coat. It smells like him. He should find some comfort in it. He doesn't.
It's all suddenly too much.
II. III. Vessel. Fore. Cardiff. Amber. His mam. His tad. The house. His brother. Alys and the baby. Her husband. The broken down mower. The falling apart van. The death of his band, his dream. The fight with Owen. The cut contact with Ieuan. The loss of Bryn's friendship. Jack somehow having faith in someone like him.
A failure.
A waste.
Someone not good enough for anything. Not good enough for anyone as he was.
Maybe he should have just stayed in Cardiff. Gotten a job at the factory. Made money to keep the lights on back home. Done something else. Anything else. Anything to not feel this way.
He can't breathe. His body shakes. Crashes to the tile ground beneath him.
Crying.
He's crying.
When did that become so easy for him to admit?
He feels panic.
It doesn't feel like his own anymore.
He hears a scream, but it's underwater. Muffled. A distant sound.
Something shatters. Breaks. Shakes the floor beneath him.
He growls. He doesn't know why. His wounded pride is the last thing on his mind.
Strong arms seize him. Shake him gently. Something warm presses against his forehead. Something rapid beats beneath his ear.
He chokes out a sound. Drowns beneath the waves. Sobs into the rain.
"Ve… Vessel?"
"I have you," Vessel coos into his ear, smoothing back his hair. Pressing Ivy's face closer to his chest. Rocking them back and forth. If Ivy closes his eyes, remembers how to breathe, it almost feels like he's being swayed by the sea itself. "I have you, my precious mate."
He's tired.
So tired.
Vessel's breath on his skin grounds him. His scent sinks into him. His mate. His.
"Why?" Ivy manages out, but it's a gritted thing.
"Because I... asked them not to talk about it."
Ivy's world tilts on its axis as his frantic, bleary eyes land on the speaker. The source of rotting flowers. The source of panic and misery.
II's eyes are inundated with tears. Cheeks red. Lips trembling. III holds him steady. But Ivy sees II's little sway all the same. There, knelt on the tile floor in front of him.
"You don’t understand," II whispers, bowing his head in shame. Palpable embarrassment. Heartache. Devastation. Tears splatter the tile floor beneath them. II’s tears.
Ivy blinks away tears as a shuttered breath escapes his chapped lips. It hurts to breathe. To feel. To watch II fall apart beside him.
"I saw the similarities and I hated myself for it," II wails into his hands. Shaking. Trembling. Exhausted. Enraged. Torn asunder. Ivy's own pain mounts. Catches in his throat. In his chest. Air refuses to find him. Vessel blows air into his nose, as if forcing him to breathe. To gasp as II collapses back into III's strong arms. "I didn't want you to think that I... that... I..."
II makes a sound that's caught between a hiss and a scream.
It's guttural.
It's gutted.
It's the worst thing Ivy's ever heard another living being make.
Ivy's eyes widen, unseeing, as III pulls II fully into his embrace.
"That's enough, little love," III begs now. Crying. Shaking. Undone by it all. By them. Their emotions. His own. “Breathe for me, please.”
Ivy can't feel him. But he can still feel the strain.
"Listen to me, please," II begs. Ivy blinks away tears. Remembers to breathe only because Vessel's nudging at his jaw with his nose. As if he's breathing for him. III sniffles. “Do you… know what happens when an Alpha abandons their… mate?”
Ivy’s lips part. II’s words ring in his ears.
He can feel his pain. II's terror. II's absolute, undeniable fear. His agony.
His Alpha blinks itself into consciousness, but Vessel nudges his jaw all the same.
“For an Alpha… it’s… survivable,” II laughs, the sound wet and bitter. Ivy’s tears gather on his lashes. Vessel kisses them the moment they fall, cresting down his cheeks. “For someone like me? It’s… it’s more than we can take.”
“II…” III sighs softly, sniffling once more as II trembles in the Empath’s unyielding hold. “II… got really sick, Ivy.”
Ivy’s eyes fly open. His breath catches. Refuses to return to him. No matter how hard Vessel nudges against his skin. He’s not well versed in these things. Too frayed from emotions to piece it together in the moment. He’s never been an expert on instincts. On Omegas. Never loved one enough to try and learn. Never paid enough attention in school.
Omegas could have multiple different claims. One claim did not prevent another from being made. He knew that much. But abandonment?
Vessel rubs Ivy’s sternum. Forces a wince out of him. Forces him to breathe.
“I… thought I was above it all,” II grumbles out, head tilting backwards. Hair swaying against III’s chest as the drummer looks to the ceiling through glassy eyes. “Gods, I was an idiot back then. I… was a wreck when Fore left. Vessel… gave him a choice. Submit and find a place in the pack order, or leave, and… Fore made his choice.”
“I… don’t understand,” Ivy confesses, voice stuttering. He barely recognizes his own voice. Sniffles. Clears his throat. It’s supposed to help. But it doesn’t.
Vessel kisses more tears from his reddened cheeks.
“It started off… as just… distress,” II recalls, but his voice, too, is shot. Filled with so much pain. A pain that Ivy feels deep within his chest. Spreading throughout his veins. Like a knife being drug through his spine. “I… wanted to believe that things wouldn’t end that way. But… Fore never came back. Vessel and III begged me to erase the claim before I felt the loss physically, but…”
II’s voice cracks. III’s tears overflow once again. Ivy gasps for air as Vessel noses into his skin.
“I couldn’t do it,” II admits, and Ivy swallows thickly. “I told them no. I… waited. And waited. And then… I lost my appetite. Got sick every time I smelled food. I spent all day making… intricate nests for someone who… someone who never came back to me.”
II chokes out a bitter sound. It’s full of anger. Resentment. Loss. More pain than words can convey.
So much pain that Ivy’s hands shake.
“Then… my scent gland got really swollen. I could barely turn my head,” II winces from the memory. III’s eyes slam shut. Ivy can feel Vessel’s heartbeat quicken as II draws in a deep breath. “I… started falling down a lot. No… balance. No… anything. Just… lost. Vessel begged me, III pleaded with me, but I… I just couldn’t bring myself to let go.”
“II laid down in our nest and…” III bites out, slowly creaking open his eyes. Blue-green surrounded by red. His fire snuffed out. “He… could barely move. Omegas… they… they die like this, Ivy. Die lying there, waiting for someone who's gone.”
“I removed the claim without asking then,” Vessel admits, and for the first time since he’s known him, Vessel’s scent is muted. A puddle. Murky. Buried beneath his palpable shame. Ivy doesn’t need to feel him to discern it. “He… screamed. Cried. Spiked with a fever that I thought was going to… going to take him away. My everything… gone because I… was too weak to…”
“I’m so sorry,” II croaks out, pale blue eyes finding Ivy’s own as the little Omega’s lips tremble. Quivering. Limbs shaking. Chest heaving. Just as undone as he feels. “I’m so selfish. I… didn’t know what to say. You… were so different than he was. I noticed the similarities, and I… cried the night that we first met. Thinking to myself it would be too much, but you… you looked at me like you knew me already and I couldn’t help but want you to keep looking at me that way.”
“I’m ashamed of myself for keeping silent,” Vessel breathes out. Hands shaking. Muscles twitching. Ivy can feel the struggle warring beneath his skin. The fight for control over his emotions. His instincts. The constant battle. “I wanted you to feel loved and safe here with us because you are. You… deserved to know. I… am the one to blame. I have the final say. I… should have told you.”
“You… should have,” Ivy exhales a hissed breath. His scent sours. It’s more leather than amber now. He thinks maybe it’s better off that way. “You… never were going to tell me, were you?”
“We would have,” III speaks up, voice as shaky as his hands. “But we should have told you before all this. II… begged us to never mention Fore again, after he recovered… and we… we just wanted to move on. We’re… not perfect people, Ivy. This is the… biggest mistake of our lives. We never wanted to hurt you. But no matter when or what we told you about Fore, it was always going to hurt. We… selfishly put it off because of that. We’re the ones in the wrong. There is no excuse for it.”
“You don’t have to forgive us,” Vessel tells him, tightening his arms. It should feel like a prison, being caged in by the Dominant Alpha’s arms. His legs. But be it instinct, or the love Ivy still has for him, he sinks further into Vessel’s frame. “Not now. Not ever. But you deserve the full truth. It was wrong of us to keep it from you.”
“I… you almost died?” Ivy circles back, trying to make sense of it in his mind. How II could fall apart so immensely. How his little body could fail him so severely. How III tried to respect II’s wishes. How Vessel waited until II was ready. How II never was. How Vessel had to make the decision or risk losing II forever.
II… gone.
Ivy’s Alpha, wounded as it is, shudders at the mere thought. Stricken.
It doesn’t mute his anger. Or his pain. But Ivy never wants to picture that.
II’s blinding light being extinguished from the world.
“Yes,” II answers, but his newest mate’s head shakes slowly as he speaks. “What… happened to me back then doesn’t matter. It’s only… the reason why. I… we haven’t talked about this. Not like this. Not ever. III tried once, and I… lost it. I’m… not the one who deserves any sympathy, Ivy. You do. We… hurt you. And I… can’t stomach the thought of you thinking that we took any pleasure in it. We didn’t. We were wrong. We… have a lot of healing to do. But our healing shouldn’t involve causing you any pain.”
“We owe you more than simple apologies, or taking responsibility for our wrongs.” III adds as he sags further against II. Ivy knows it must be too much for him. Loud. Too many emotions running through III’s head. The Empath could feel them all. His own emotions. II’s. Vessel’s. Ivy’s. Even Fore’s. Ivy frowns, raising a shaky hand to wipe his sore eyes.
“You tell us what you need from us,” Vessel says and his voice is gravelly, strained. “You lead. We’ll follow.”
Submission.
Ivy twists in Vessel’s arms. Watches on through widened eyes as the Dominant Alpha grits his teeth, sheer instinct. Then slowly ducks his head. Bowing it.
Submitting to him.
“I…” Ivy begins, chewing on his words. His emotions. His anger. His heartache. His love for them in spite of it all. “I need time.”
“Are…” II starts, sucking in a hissed breath as Ivy once more meets his eyes. Tears pool in pale blue. II blinks. They spill over. Soaking his pale cheeks. “Are you… going to leave me?”
“II,” Ivy breathes out, feeling his Alpha lurch. Reaching for Harmony. But II’s Omega is a wild, frantic thing. II’s scent is sheer panic. Laden thick with guilt. Before Ivy can so much as answer, II pulls out of III’s hold. Reaching blindly for him.
Ivy flinches.
II’s eyes swallow him whole.
“No… please, don’t.” II begs, his trembling hand cracking harshly on the tile floor. Ivy winces from the sound alone. His scent curling. His Alpha demands access to his little mate, but II is fading.
Instinct taking over.
Instinct that II so often wages war against.
Instinct that fuels II’s emotions. His searing, blinding agony. His immediate distress. The nausea in his stomach.
II crawls towards the toilet. III flounders on the ground. Long limbs scrambling to right himself as Vessel hisses in a breath and holds Ivy closer.
The little Omega hunches over the toilet. Sobbing. Heaving. Shaking so fiercely that Ivy can hear his teeth chatter. His Alpha screams within him. Pacing wildly in his chest.
“Please don’t leave me!” II lets out a garbled scream. A sound caught between a wail of panic and frustration with himself. “Please… I can’t… I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” II cuts himself off, chest heaving over the toilet as III steadies the violently shaking Omega with his arms. “I’ll… do anything. Ivy… please don’t go.”
“I know this is hard,” III sniffles, rubbing soothing circles on II’s back. Ivy bites back instinct. Bites back horror. Tells himself that II is safe.
That II has Vessel.
That even if he leaves, II will be safe.
If he leaves…
If he stays…
“But you need to respect his choices, II,” III continues. “We… never gave him the chance to make an informed one. We owe him this. You need to breathe for me, little love. You’re…” III’s voice cuts off, a broken, wet sound slipping out of his lips. “We’re… going to get through this. So breathe for me, doll. Just like that. Deep breaths.”
“You need… time,” Vessel whispers, and for the first time, his voice is broken, too. “What… do you want us to do? Will you… stay with us tonight if we…” Vessel’s words are cut off by another painful sob. Ivy flinches. Can’t stand the sound. Can’t stand the pain. For all of II’s selfish hurt, II was still his little mate. His Omega. His fixation. His imprint. “We… will be quiet. Say nothing. Just…”
“And… if I want to leave?” Ivy asks, breathes out. He needs to know. Needs to know that he has agency. That he has a choice.
II’s cry silences. It is not a performative thing. III stills. Vessel doesn’t breathe.
The world around him goes silent.
Ivy’s sniffle is the loudest thing.
“You would…” Vessel starts, and it, like many other things, is the first time Vessel cries off of the stage. “You would… be able to leave. If… you want that.”
II flushes the toilet. Collapses. Misses III’s still arms. Falls down onto the floor. Cold tile. Silent. Reaching blindly for a nearby towel rack. Seizing one. Ivy’s heart shatters as his mate curls himself around it. Shaking with silent sobs. With blinding panic. With sheer terror. A fear that knew no other name.
“I… take him… to bed,” Ivy pants out, words meant for III. Words III heeds without pushback. II is limp in III’s arms. Clutching the towel. Shivering. Eyes closed. Cheeks flushed.
II is so proud. So strong. So resilient.
To see him like this, to see him torn apart, Ivy feels like a bigger monster than Fore then.
But he’s hurt, too. More hurt than he can quantify. Put into words. Vessel looks to him. And Ivy realizes that he, too, is looking for direction.
“I’m… going to the couch tonight,” Ivy confesses, standing on shaking legs. Fighting tooth and nail against instinct. To soothe his mates. To accept their apologies. To hold them close. To breathe them in. But he needs this. Time. Space. Distance. Hindsight.
He thinks of Fore’s words.
Wonders if they really are that similar after all.
“Will we… see you… in the morning?” Vessel asks slowly, caramel eyes eaten away by darkness. Dilated. Scent completely muted. A Dominant Alpha, sitting with his body bowed in shame.
Ivy swallows his anger. Bites back his pride. Silences his Alpha.
He doesn’t answer as he walks over what remains of the destroyed bathroom door.
-
Throughout the night, Ivy hears commotion coming from upstairs.
Restlessness. The familiar footfall of II. Padding away at the hardwood floors in the master bedroom.
Ivy doesn’t need to check to know what the little Omega is doing.
Stress nesting.
For one hour. Then two. Then three. Four. Five.
The sound never ceases. The anxiety and regret in their bond never fades. Never lessens.
Ivy sighs, eyes drifting back to his phone’s screen. He glances briefly down the hall, to where the guestroom resides. Where Fore sleeps. Fore is the only one getting any rest that night, he knows.
The research article on his screen sours his scent. And this time, when amber simmers, he feels nauseous for a different reason.
Nesting for Ghosts: When Abandonment Turns Fatal
For an Alpha, a severed mating bond can be remedied with time and distance. For an Omega, the two often become a death sentence.
He backs out of the tab. Can’t bear to read onward. Scrolls headlines instead. Some sensational. Some scientific, rooted in observation and research.
Biological Breakdown in Abandoned Omegas
You Can’t Take It Back: A Study In Accidental Claims Turned Fatal
Protecting Your Bond: Why Alphas Should Keep Their Omegas Close to Prevent Bond Interference and Secondary Claims
Your Claim is Not Enough To Deter Another Alpha: Keep Your Mate Close!
Ivy shudders. Can’t stomach the thought. The feeling. The realization that II endured such loss. That II became so ill. All because of Fore. Because he walked away. Because II couldn’t stomach the idea of Fore not returning to him. Refused to let go. Almost gave his life for it.
Could Ivy ever do the same?
Leave? Have Vessel lick his neck clean with the exception of III’s scar and return home? Knowing that II would become undone by his absence? That II would fall ill because of him? That II would make nest after nest in hopes that his mate would come home to him? That II might lie down there and never get back up?
His Alpha growls in his chest. His teeth clench. He’s angry, yes. Angry they lied. Angry they omitted things. Angry that he shares so many traits with the man who sleeps so comfortably in a sanctuary he did not forge. Did not deserve.
But Ivy isn’t Fore.
He is IV.
Their IV.
Their mate.
He is pack.
Fore never was.
Ivy swallows thickly. Shakes the idea from his head. The thought. He’s angry, yes. He has every right to be. But he can’t leave. Won’t. Can’t do that to II. To III. To Vessel. Sees their teary eyes every time he closes his own. Hears their shaking voices in the ringing in his ears. He loves them so much it hurts. He’s hurt. So are they.
Time. Trust. Honesty.
He doesn’t want to go back to Cardiff. Doesn’t want to go back to a life that felt more like survival than enjoyment. He wants to unpack his things. Wants Fore gone. Wants, needs, answers. To know every little reason why. They need to talk. They need to heal. They need to try to move forward.
Ivy’s scared, too.
His confidence is shaken. His selfassuredness is rattled. But he knows that they love him. Knows why they do. Reminds himself of the differences he has from Fore. Of the things Fore did that he would never, under any circumstances, do.
Fore claimed II and II alone. Refused Vessel’s claim. Refused to bow his head. Refused to submit. Refused to let himself be marked by III. Refused to have the Empath’s scar on his skin.
Fore’s journey ended in Cardiff.
Ivy’s began in London.
His trembling fingers fly over his phone screen. Keying in another search. He’s never cared much about these sorts of things. Only ever looked into things relevant to himself. He kicks himself for not doing it before. Absorbs the headlines that greet him. Lets the information sink in.
Want More Than One Mate? You Need a Harmonic!
Why Settle for One? Harmonic Omegas Let You Have the Whole Pack!
Don’t Let a Scarred Neck Be the Only Thing Between You and the Perfect Pack!
And Empath Alphas.
Coddle or Claim? What to Do When Your Empath Alpha’s More Sensitive Than You Are
Can Empath Alphas Protect a Pack or Just Talk Through Its Problems?
One Step Away From a Beta: Why Empath Alphas Should Stick to Betas
Anger.
Ivy snarls, backing out of the search before forcing himself to type out another. Doing something he should have done a long time ago. Make himself understand his mates. Their struggles. The way the world perceived them.
How II was viewed by the world at large as little more than a sought after pack commodity. How some Alphas might think nothing of II’s claim marks and try to take him for themselves. How that could kill his little mate. How Vessel was more than a leader. More than a provider. But the sole guarantor of II’s safety. How their small circle of fellow musicians and crew, who saw II for who he was and respected him for his talent, were a far cry from the view the outside world held of him.
How III’s sub-type was mocked. Leered at. Criticized . How III was deemed not good enough to be worthy of a mate. How III’s kindness and emotional feeling were considered a weakness. Not a blessing.
Ivy thinks of how much damage those articles would do to his mates. The thought alone makes his anger rear its ugly head again. He can hardly stomach the thought. But he knows that they were surely aware of their perception to the outside world. Ivy has only ever searched for information on his own sub-type. Learned everything else secondhand. Never considered it important.
He regrets that now. Sours his scent with it. Adds it to the laundry list of hurts he’s endured. Both the ones inflicted on him, and the ones he has inflicted upon himself.
Dominants Don’t Have to Just Mate You, They Can Unmate Everyone Before Them
Dominant Alphas: Built to Breed, Born to Rule; How the Rarest Sub-Type Demands Compliance and Delivers Perfection
Ownership Is Protection: Why Claim Marks Mean Safety in Dominant Packs
Ivy locks his phone. Lets it slide down his chest as he closes his eyes and sighs. Upstairs, II’s familiar footfall continues.
Ivy focuses on the feeling that thrums between them. The bond. Feels II’s terror. His remorse. His panic. His everything.
He swallows thickly, checks the time. Early, but his mam always did work an early shift.
He calls without thinking. Wants to smoke but doesn’t dare go outside. Doesn’t dare take his eyes off of the closed guestroom door. Doesn’t take his eyes off of where Fore, the man who nearly killed his mate with his refusal to submit, lies. Sleeping peacefully. Blissfully.
Ivy knows Fore might have changed. Become a better person. Hell, he’s a different person than he once was, too.
But he can’t forgive that. Can’t not consider him a threat. Can’t bear the thought of him remaining in their abode. His abode. Where his pack lives. Where II is.
His mother answers on the fourth ring.
He pours his heart out to her. Quiet whispers. Desperate agony. Listens as she gets ready for work. As she shushes him when his voice begins to crack. As she sighs deeply before telling him something that he needs to hear. Something he’s too hurt to see for himself.
“I think Toby’s been deeply traumatized by everything that’s happened, sweet boy. And Lucas and Finley? They’re totally smitten with you. I know how much they mean to you, Ivy, but you’re learning something really hard about relationships right now. They’re messy. Your father? He lied to me for years about how deep we were in debt. We had to refinance the house after you were born. We even slept in separate beds for a year. But you don’t just throw something away because it’s broken. You fix it together. You’ll always see the cracks and the damage, but it can work as good as new.”
“They… never talked about it,” Ivy whispers out, running a hand over his stubble. “II… nearly died, mam. They never told me that either.”
“Did you tell them about the time you caught pneumonia? Had you on a vent for weeks, but you still smoke those god awful cigarettes,” His mother remarks, and Ivy breathes in deep. “Did you tell them about the time you and that Beta girlfriend you had back in school almost became parents after shagging on me good couch?”
“Mam!” Ivy hisses out, cheeks reddening as his mother chortles on the other end of the line.
“Sometimes we don’t tell the ones we love about the ugly parts of ourselves,” his mother continues when her laughter quiets down. Ivy nods his head, knowing she can’t see it. “Maybe to protect them, or maybe to protect ourselves. What you got to ask yourself, sweet boy, is are you willing to throw away a good thing just because you found out your partners? Mates? Didn’t want to show you something ugly?”
“But what if…” Ivy bites out, grumbling as his Alpha hones in on the sound of more footfall. Registers it as III’s. Then Vessel’s. Restless. He can’t feel them. Can’t smell their scents. He knows they’re hurt like he is in spite of it. “But what if I’m… just the person they wish… Fore was?”
“A good person?” His mother inquires, and Ivy’s breath catches painfully. “Boy, I dated three brown haired, blue eyed men before your father. I have a type, yes. But I was never looking for a man who reminded me of my ex-partner, or was the better version of a previous fling.”
Ivy’s eyes dart to the closed guestroom door. He breathes in deep. Lets it go.
“I was looking for someone who made me smile. Someone who loved me for me,” his mother carries on with a lilt. He can practically hear her smile. “Now, I may just be a Beta, and maybe the scent part is lost on me, but just because you wear the same cologne doesn’t make you the same as that other man. You’re you, sweet boy. People love you for you.”
A door creaks open. It is not Fore’s.
Ivy smiles sadly.
“Thanks, mam,” he tells her, bids her goodbye. Wishes her well at work as three distinct pairs of footfall begin to descend the stairs.
But one is shuffled. Different.
Vessel descends first. Eyes surrounded by dark bags. Bloodshot. His eyes glazed over. He looks lost. He looks exhausted. He looks worn and defeated. Everything a Dominant Alpha shouldn’t be. Not according to the world away from their quiet, safe abode.
Almost quiet. Almost safe.
III follows after. Eyes bleary. Blue-green irises shaking against the whites. His hands tremble. He stumbles on the last step. Vessel catches him. III smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Ivy can feel their eyes on him.
Wonders if they feel relief when they look at him. Wonders if it would be easier to forgive and heal if he could discern how they felt beyond their scent. Beyond their body language. Beyond the clear as day pain in their eyes.
II is the one shuffling. Clad in the stagewear shirt that Ivy bought for him. His first courtship gift. Ivy’s scythe pendant rests on the little Omega’s neck. Ivy’s sweatpants sit lowly on II’s hips. Dragging on the floor. II looks beyond unwell. Blue eyes widen as they notice him, but Ivy feels no joy from II’s end of the bond. Only relief. Only regret. Only agony. Longing.
II moves forward, pant legs dragging on the floor beneath his bare feet. Ivy imagines him falling over. Imagines his neck so swollen that he can barely turn his pretty little head. Imagines II stress nesting for days on end. Imagines II lying down and never getting back up.
Imagines himself being the reason why.
II goes to walk past him. Ivy catches his hand. Doesn’t think. Alpha bristling. Mind foggy. Overcome with emotions. With love. With hurt. With acceptance.
He pulls II into his lap, cradling his little mate in his embrace. II lets out a shaky exhale against his neck. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t say a word. Ivy feels tears hit the skin of his neck as II inhales deeply then buries his nose in Ivy's neck. Over II’s very own claim.
Ivy buries his fingers in unruly soft, blond hair. Shushes II’s silent crying. Letting scent wash over the drummer as Vessel and III tentatively shift closer to the couch.
Ivy kisses the sweat from II’s twitching brow.
“I’m so mad at you,” he confesses because it’s true. Because honesty is important. Because communication is more vital than ever. Still, he smiles into his mate’s pallid skin. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, though. That goes for all of you.”
“We love you too,” II whispers softly, his voice as shaky as his limbs. “Please, don’t go.”
“I want to know everything,” Ivy tells him, eyes shifting to Vessel’s determined gaze. To III’s beautiful, but tear filled, eyes. “From now on, no more secrets. No more lies. We’re… a pack, aren’t we?”
“We are,” Vessel confirms, regaining some of his bravado. The scent of rain rising as the Dominant Alpha hesitantly leans down. Ivy doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away. Lets his mate kiss his cheek as Vessel’s fingers join Ivy’s own, ruffling II’s hair. “We… made a mistake, Ivy. Let me make this right.”
III sheepishly slinks forward as Vessel rises. Ivy meets the Empath’s eyes. Remembers the cruelty of the news articles he read. Thinks to himself that III is emotionally intelligent, but like most people, he is also flawed. Not in the way the world saw him. Not as a failure of an Alpha. Not as a failure of nature. Or a failure as a mate. But as a human being.
“I… was scared to come down,” III confesses with a shaky smile. Tears threatening to spill over as II nuzzles into Ivy’s neck and sniffles once again. “I… was afraid you’d be gone.”
“I’m… not leaving,” Ivy assures him, drinking in the instant relief in III’s eyes. Thankful he doesn’t need to feel it. Thankfully he knows regardless.
“II… are you ready?” Vessel calls out.
II stills in Ivy’s arms, letting out a shuddering breath. Ivy releases him with a frown. Reluctant. Curious. Watching in silence as II slinks out of his arms and rubs his reddened eyes.
“Ready…” II confirms with a long exhale.
III frowns, rubbing II’s shoulders as the little Omega pads forward to where Vessel awaits him down the hallway. Ivy swallows thickly. Buries his own anger. His own lingering stress. Keeps his eyes peeled instead as Vessel’s fingers rasp against the guestroom door.
Fore answers immediately. Hobbles out of the doorway as Vessel steps aside.
Fore’s scent is more rose petals and sandalwood than amber now. Soft. Compliant. Ivy wonders why he never noticed it before. How sickly sweet the combination was. It seems fitting, knowing what he knows about Fore now. How a Sanctuary Alpha’s scent would be sweeter than that of a typical traditional Alpha. Lure in mates. Keep them close with the promise of comfort and pleasant scent. Keep them at home, where Fore’s Alpha thought that his mates belonged. Hidden away from the outside world. Hidden away from danger.
They look nothing alike, he and Fore. They share only their passions. Their distinctive note of amber. Their love for the little Omega who breathes in deep through his nose then steps forward.
Ivy stands from the couch, moving towards the hall. Closer to them. III hot on his heels.
II raises his hands, placing one on Fore’s neck as the other pulls down the Sanctuary Alpha’s collar. Ivy eyes Fore’s scent gland. Finds it unbelievably cruel. Unfair. Unjust. How Fore could simply move on with his life after leaving his former mate behind. But for II, it had nearly been a death sentence.
“I couldn’t say your name,” II speaks softly, but his voice is the loudest sound in their home. Ivy shifts his weight, watching as Vessel reels in the snarl that threatens to form on his lips. “You… probably thought that I would remove your claim the night you left. But… I waited for you.”
“I… thought you were sick of me,” Fore admits, lips twitching downward. “I thought you’d let it go.”
“Let your claim go, just that easily, huh?” II says through a bitter smile. “You never listened to me. But I don't think you ever really knew me either.”
“I thought I did,” Fore confesses, scent souring. Ivy sets his jaw. Wanting nothing more than to remove II from Fore’s vicinity. Alpha wanting nothing more than to hold and shelter its mate. His mate. “I… took off that night. Didn’t even give Vessel the chance to track me down. Undo this… it… kills me to see it everyday. But it’s all I have left of you.”
“Fore,” II reiterates, gripping the Sanctuary Alpha’s neck tighter. “No… Theo… listen to me.”
“I am listening to you,” Fore replies, eyes glassy. Ivy can see the war occurring within them. The instinct. The drive. The person struggling behind their dark sheen. His pack, his mates, his beloved partners, were by far the Sanctuary Alpha’s biggest victims. Perhaps Ivy himself was, too. But Fore was also a victim of himself.
Complicated. Messy. Complex. His mother’s words ring true in his mind.
Life was seldom perfect. People were not perfect. They were flawed.
II was an imperfect victim. III an imperfect bystander. Vessel an imperfect leader. Fore an imperfect partner.
Ivy was imperfect, too.
Had secrets. Things he never thought about any longer. Things he never told anyone. Things he never told the people who mattered the most to him.
II rubs his old claim on Fore’s neck. Smiles a smile so sad that even the pain through their muddied bond feels muted.
“I think we both should let go,” II whispers, and the dam breaks in Fore’s eyes. Heavy tears fall down his cheeks, sliding down freshly shaven skin. “Maybe one day all of us can talk about what happened. Maybe one day we can understand why things ended the way that they did. But my mates have to come first, Theo. You… lost that right a long time ago.”
“I know,” Fore says through trembling lips, sniffling as Vessel steps forward. Fore flinches. II’s sad smile remains in place. “I… never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I… never listened to you, you’re right.”
“Will you listen to me this time?” II asks, and the world around them stills as Fore draws in a deep breath.
“I owe you that much, don’t I?” Fore replies with a slight upturn of his lips as II squeezes his neck one final time before slipping away. Ivy watches Fore’s hands twitch at his sides.
“III, call a cab for him,” Vessel instructs, tucking II behind him as he strides forward and takes II’s place. “Take the cash out of my wallet and give it to him before he leaves.”
“Right,” III breathes out, placing a hand on Ivy’s tense shoulders before he quietly slips away.
II retreats further, leaning against the hallway’s wall as Vessel clasps Fore on the shoulder, hard. Not gentle at all. Not in the way that III touched Ivy’s arm. Devoid of care. Devoid of all but anger. Bitterness. Regret.
The ocean coils around them, soaking through the walls. Leaving them dripping in the scent of saltwater and acid rain.
“The only reason I let you into this house is to undo the mistake I made,” Vessel announces and Fore’s tears fall harder. “Now bare your neck for me so my mate can finally be free from you, Fore.”
Vessel doesn’t ask. His grip tightens. A low, droning sound hums behind his lips.
But Fore doesn’t bristle. Resigned. There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. Baring his scent gland like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him when Ivy knows damn well that it isn’t. When they all do.
Had Fore only done this before then, not letting pride and instinct get in the way, Ivy wouldn’t be standing here right now.
“II,” Vessel grumbles out, but there’s a sad lilt in his tone. II sniffles once before sighing. “This… is going to hurt you.”
“I don’t care anymore,” II confesses bitterly.
Ivy can’t stand the resignation in his voice. The resignation in their bond. His Alpha howls in his chest, lamenting something that he can’t begin to quantify. The death of something instinctual. The loss of something incomprehensible.
“Catch him, Ivy,” Vessel commands, and all Ivy can do is blink.
Vessel leans in. Growling. Licks a stripe across Fore’s skin that forces a sob out of the Sanctuary Alpha as II gasps against the wall. The drummer’s hands flex, fingers searching blindly for purchase.
Then, II collapses.
Ivy acts before he can register Vessel’s words. His demand. His trust in him to keep their little mate safe. He clears the hall and all but slides across the hardwood floor on his knees, wincing as he catches II in his arms. The little Omega never so much as hits the ground. Falls instead into Ivy’s embrace. Landing against his chest as II whines, eyes slammed shut. Skin immediately flushed. Scent immediately saccharinely sweet. Nauseatingly so.
“Take the money III brings you and go home, Fore,” Vessel instructs. Spitting into the sleeve of his sweatshirt as if to rid his mouth of the taste of Fore’s scent gland from his lips. Fore shakes, leaning on the door’s frame for support. Ivy clutches II to his chest. Watching them both with a grimace.
“I’m… really sorry, Vessel,” Fore says, and Vessel breathes in deep.
“I know,” Vessel says simply as he takes a step backward, never turning his back on Fore. “But you’re no longer a priority.”
It lands like a stone to the chest. Like a weight dropped from the world’s tallest peak. It rings with finality. A decision made. A declaration uttered.
Ivy’s Alpha can’t help but brim with pride in spite of all its hurt. In spite of his own. He cradles II in his arms, lifting his unconscious mate from the ground as Fore ducks his head.
“I… understand,” Fore mutters out as III returns, a wad of money in hand. Ivy doesn’t care how much it is. Doesn’t care that the Empath gives it to him.
It signifies closure. A departure. The exorcism of a ghost. A final goodbye. A mutual parting that leaves them all broken, but not beyond repair. Nothing the four of them couldn’t fix. Nothing Fore couldn’t heal from either. On his own. Devoid of them. Devoid of II. Devoid of Ivy’s mates. The ones that Fore never could have for himself.
“One day,” Ivy says as he holds II closer to his chest, his eyes drifting to meet Fore’s own. “Maybe you have changed. Maybe you haven’t. I don’t know you. I only know what you’ve done and how it has caused more harm than good. Maybe one day you can make that up to them and to yourself. But right now… you need to leave.”
“You heard him,” Vessel grumbles out, nodding towards the nearby entryway. “Your shoes and coat are on the rack.”
“Thank you… all of you,” Fore says sincerely, smiling in spite of the tears in his eyes. “I… don’t have to worry about II now. He’s… in good hands. Always has been. Good luck to you all. And… have fun on the road ahead.”
Ivy doesn’t take it as a jab. Can’t when he sees the genuineness in the other man’s eyes as Fore bows his head before making towards the exit. They watch on in silence as Fore struggles to fit his shoes over his swollen feet.
“The cab will be here in five minutes,” III tells him, voice strained but no longer cracking. Healing. “You can wait on the porch for them.”
“I’ll… wait at the end of the drive,” Fore calls over his shoulder, smiling still. Ivy nods, sparing the other man one last glance before he turns his back on him. Turns his back on the single most pressing threat that their relationship had known.
Trusting III to watch his back. Trusting Vessel to maintain the distance between them. Leaving Ivy to walk up the stairs with II safely nestled in his arms.
He enters the bedroom without thought, without hesitation, smiles sadly as his eyes fall on the nest. The one II worked so tirelessly on. The one he built hoping for him to return.
His clothes are carefully placed across the mattress. On all four corners. Draped across the headboard. The blankets Ivy scented for him all lie in perfect order, creating a space in the center of the massive bed just big enough for four bodies to slot into it. III’s neatly folded shirt lies against one pillow. Vessel’s rests against another. II’s lies against his own.
Only Ivy’s is left barren.
His Alpha laments. His eyes sting.
He may be hurt. He may need answers. But right now, he needs this. Needs his little mate. Needs II.
He gently lies II down on the bed, wiping the hair that’s plastered against his forehead back. Damp with sweat. Skin flushed. Eyes twitching as if he’s enduring a most unpleasant dream. Ivy peels his gray sweatshirt off, placing it down on his usual pillow before he climbs in after him.
He pulls II against his bare chest, smiling sadly as his mate shivers and instinctively leans further into him. II’s head lulls towards his neck, absentmindedly breathing him in. Ivy hopes that the smell of amber, this time, soothes him.
He regrets it now, not being able to stomach the research to learn what removing II’s claim on Fore’s neck would do to the drummer. Not knowing how deeply it would wound him. How deeply it would scar. II’s scent is erratic. An amalgamation of decaying lavender, tidal water, hearth smoke, and leather.
Ivy smiles into II’s skin. Breathes him in. Never noticed before now. Never had the time.
II does not carry his notes of amber.
Only leather.
Vessel’s rainstorm is absent. III’s cedarwood is missing. And so is Ivy’s amber.
He closes his eyes. Lips wobbling. Grateful to never have to smell that note on his beloved mate’s pale skin.
The bedroom door creaks open. Ivy doesn’t need to look up to know who it is.
“He’s gone,” Vessel declares, exhaustion palpable in his tone. Ivy hears another set of familiar footfall, a gait that could only ever belong to III. “How… is he?”
“II is…” Ivy starts, voice raw and tired. He huffs out an unsteady laugh. “He’s tough as nails, as always.”
“He is,” III adds in, and Ivy can hear the bassist awkwardly shifting his weight. “And… how are you, Ivy?”
A loaded question. One he doesn’t know how to answer, so he answers honestly instead.
“I don’t know,” Ivy says simply, holding II tighter in his arms as the drummer lets out a subconscious whine.
“Do you… want us to leave?” Vessel asks, and it strikes Ivy once more how Vessel is asking for orders. Not giving them. Willing to go beyond listening. To opt into deference. He thinks of III and Vessel, posturing and arguing over food in the tour bus’s kitchenette. Of Vessel growling warnings to him at the cafe in London when Ivy first agreed to take on the role as their guitarist. To how II’s Harmony, an unknown thing to him back then, had been allowed to sway the Dominant Alpha’s instincts.
How Vessel never defers to anyone except to the people that he loves. The people that he respects. The people who are his mates. His.
“Sleep,” Ivy says as he raises his wary head. He glances at them sideways, eyes darting from the door to the bed. “We’re… all too tired to keep this up. We need to rest. To calm down.”
As if afraid that the spell would break, Vessel and III say nothing further. Merely shut the bedroom door and approach. Ivy’s Alpha settles, feeling contentment beyond its pain, as Vessel lies down beside him. As III lies behind II.
Ivy allows himself to relax then. With II in his arms, nestled against his chest. Both of them bracketed by their other mates as Vessel leans in close and III tucks himself flush against II’s back. Ivy breathes them in. Breathes out slowly.
Pack.
Frayed. A little broken. But not shattered beyond repair. Letting go. Healing. Something precious. Something worth fixing.
“We’re sorry,” Vessel coos into his neck, nuzzling into his skin. Soothing his wound up instincts. The burning hot panic he once felt. Reminding him to breathe deeply. Reminding him he is loved. He can’t feel Vessel’s emotions. He doesn’t need to.
“I know,” Ivy says sincerely, tucking his face back into II’s mess of soft blond hair.
“We love you… more than words can ever say,” III whispers softly, hand seeking Ivy’s wrist. Rubbing soothing circles on it. Lighting a fire on his scent gland.
“I love you too,” Ivy reminds them, letting his body go lax as exhaustion claws away at his consciousness. “We… all have things we have to let go of.”
Sacrifices. Choices. Ghosts. Hang ups. Deep wounds. Scars. Abandoned wants. Abandoned people. Abandoned dreams.
He is not like Fore. Not because they aren’t similar in some ways. Not because they both carry the same scent. Not because they both play the same instrument and scream in the same guttural way. But because Ivy did something that Fore never could bring himself to do.
Stay. Even when it hurts. Even when he loses sleep over it.
It is worth it. To choose healing. To choose love. A decision made easier when love, in spite of pain, chooses him back.
With tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips, Ivy falls asleep in the nest that II built for him.
The one he was always meant to come back to. The one he always would.
Notes:
If it needs to be said: I don't write perfect characters. I never really have. I enjoy exploring growth, grief, and the messy moral threads that shape who people become. Just wanted to put that out there. Each of these characters have outlines that are, quite frankly, pages long. It's all a process of getting through these moments.
Thank you for walking this complicated, but healing, journey with me. There’s still more to come, but the worst of the hurt is behind us now. We’ve got a lot of good stuff (and some long overdue story beats) ahead. ;)
This Act isn’t over yet. But the ache is starting to ease. <3
Chapter 17: Crescendo
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Lingering angst/feelings discussion. Mentions of more unsavory world-building/realities for the boys here. A/B/O tags come into play here. Heed them. Also, smut.
Also, we hit 100k words. :D
Notes:
Hi, hi!
This chapter is about 6.7k words. Not the 9k as before. But ending it here is purposeful. ;)
Before we begin, a huge shout-out goes to my incredibly amazing, awesome, wonderful beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3
I am doing my best to reply to all of the comments that were left on the previous chapters! I've been mostly with family this week, and have been writing in-between, but again; I have read every single comment. You all are wonderful. Seriously. Thank you guys so much. It means so much to me to know that you all are enjoying this fic. I literally never expected this to get the reception that it has. It means a lot to me. <3 I will continue to do my best to reply to everyone as soon as I am able to!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Then send me all of your ST memes. I need more. :)
As always, take care and enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nothing smells quite right.
Lavender and honey are muted. Spiced vanilla gone faint. Cedarwood dulled by smoke. Rainwater faded on cotton sheets. Leather and amber soured. Salt. Sweat. A sharp trace of fear soaked into every pillow. It clings to the room and every surface within it. Dripping from the walls. Tangled in the sheets. In their clothes. On their skin.
Ivy wakes with his heart already pounding.
He doesn't know what jolts him. The silence, maybe. Nerves. Unease. Restlessness in spite of the exhaustion that clings to him. III is curled tight around II’s feverish frame. Their limbs tangled. Their scents blending low and warm. Protective. Anchored. Ivy doesn’t know when they shifted. Only that III must have needed II. And II… II needs everyone right now.
The little Omega breathes slowly, but too shallow. His skin's still too warm. His face is flushed where it rests against III’s bare chest.
But the nest is missing something.
The scent is off.
Ivy’s back is cold.
Ocean and rain. Vessel. Ivy blinks blearily and turns, but there’s no sign of him in the dark. Just cold sheets. Empty space.
Ivy frowns, shifting on the bed with a shaky breath. His scent sharpens, grounding him as he brushes a hand over II’s sweat damp hair. Hurt coils in his gut. But it is inconsequential. Outweighed by concern. By an uneasy feeling that seeps into his bones.
He wishes he could feel Vessel.
But all he feels is II’s pain, muddied by the haze of sleep.
“III,” Ivy whispers softly, leaning over their little mate as he brushes his fingers over III’s furrowed brow. The Empath groggily blinks awake. Eying him with palpable concern. Ivy offers him a wry smile. “Vessel isn’t here. I’m going to go check on him. Keep II warm.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply. Ivy steps out of the nest and follows the thread of fluctuating scent pulling down the hall. It doesn’t smell like the Vessel that Ivy knows. Not clean rain and still tides. This is darker. Tighter. Smothered. Drenched in suffering. Ivy’s heartbeat quickens. Quiet desperation settles in his veins as he tries to take in a deep breath. Telling himself that his mate was fine.
Fore was gone. II is sick but safe. III has II, lying safely in the nest beside him. Vessel… Vessel is…
He rounds the corner and finds him.
Vessel stands with his back to the emerald painted wall. His face half-shadowed. His arms braced like he needs the drywall to hold him upright. His shirt sticks to his defined stomach with sweat. His dark brown hair is damp. His hands tremble. Vessel exhales shakily. Staccatoed. Measured. As if he’s using it to count down the seconds.
Vessel’s dark eyes widen, breath halting. As if he’s losing track of the count.
Ivy’s never seen him like this. Unguarded. Shaking.
His mate’s scent hits him hard. Ocean waves churning dangerously. Thick with salt. Heavy with rain. Panic woven deep into every drop.
But it’s not lust in Vessel’s dilated eyes when he finally looks up.
It’s guilt.
“I hate… this part of myself,” Vessel laughs humorlessly. “I’ve always been… a complete and utter failure as a Dominant Alpha. I can’t even… protect my mates. Be there for them when they need me. Everyone is hurt and I…” Vessel’s breath catches. Ivy’s frown deepens as he steps forward, catching Vessel’s eyes as they trail down his bare chest. Rife with desire. “I wanted to be with you. I wanted to make the pain stop. But I… I couldn’t leave-”
“You had to keep II safe, Vessel,” Ivy tells him. Lips twitching upward into a slight smile as his mate’s words settle over. He knew that Vessel didn’t want to leave him alone. Remembers well how II had professed how clingy and protective Vessel got after mating. But Vessel had other instincts. More prominent ones. Ones that Ivy himself shared in. Everyone was important within their pack. Everyone was loved. But there was one thing he, Vessel, and III agreed on above all else.
II, their beautiful, sassy, wounded mate, needed to be kept safe.
Vessel grimaces, a hissed breath escaping him.
“III… he’s so upset, and you… crying,” Vessel shudders hard. Teeth chattering. Wolfish fangs glinting in the light as the Dominant Alpha slams his head back into the wall. “I hurt you. We hurt you. III is hurt. And II…”
His mate’s scent flairs. Heavy. Abundant. Overwhelming. Ivy can’t smell anything else. Only him. Only Vessel.
“Your… rut is starting, isn’t it?” Ivy surmises, offering the other man a sympathetic look.
“Yes,” Vessel chokes out, guilt gnawing away at his tone. “Took… III’s suppressants. But they never work. I’m… biologically… immune. Perfect. As if I’m not… the same scared idiot that I’ve always been. I can’t even keep myself in one piece. How can I-”
“Enough of that,” Ivy says gruffly, seizing his mate’s trembling hands from their place on the wall. Vessel shakes in his hold. Scent erratic. Desperate. Curling. Ivy swallows his own muted hurt, lessened some by the sleep he received. Takes Vessel’s hands and raises them higher, lacing their fingers together. “You’re getting in your own head again, Vess. I promised I’d stop you from doing that, remember?”
“I can’t… do this right now,” Vessel pleads, but it is not with him. He’s pleading against himself. Against instinct. His finer workings. His biological time bomb. Ivy scrambles to remember III’s warning about Vessel and his ruts. Knows only that the Empath said it was a lot. Too much for them. Something for II to deal with.
II… sick. Sleeping. Resting. Heartbroken. Scared. Healing.
“This is the last thing we need,” Vessel whispers softly. Scent climbing. But his head bowed as if in shame. “We need to talk. II needs to rest. But I… my body won't listen to me. Haven't I done… enough damage?”
Ivy sucks in a hissed breath, offering his mate a small smile.
“Vessel, we have all the time in the world to talk things out,” Ivy assures him. Smiles wider as Vessel’s dark eyes widen in palpable shock. As if he needed to hear that. As if he needed to hear Ivy say it. “I… promised II, right after we mated, that I wasn’t going to leave him. I… I’m not leaving you either. Not you. II. Or III. We have time, okay? Focus on yourself right now.”
Vessel leans back. Head tilting against the dark green wall. Eyes wide. Darkness eating away at what little remains of caramel at the edges. Ivy breathes in deep. Holds his gaze. Squeezes his hands.
And in spite of the number of times that Ivy has seen love in Vessel’s eyes, this time is different. This time his gaze is all consuming. Erasing all else from Ivy’s vision. He's seen Vessel look at someone else this way before. Time and time again.
Except Ivy isn't II.
Vessel looks at him as if he hung the stars in spite of that.
“III said… that we can't help you?” Ivy stutters out. His Alpha rears its tired head. Curious. Watching. Waiting. As if it knows something that he himself does not.
“You… can't,” Vessel confirms with a small frown. But the intensity in his gaze never falters. Never fades. It grows. Swells. Crests like the Dominant Alpha’s scent. Crashing waves rushing over Ivy as Vessel lowers his head.
Smelling the air. Licking his trembling lips. Wolfish teeth glinting in the hallway’s dim light. Ivy should find the image nightmarish. Instinct beforehand would have bid him to run. His wounded heart should bid him to part from Vessel's mutual hold.
But Vessel is his mate. His Alpha.
And Ivy’s always been stubborn. A fighter. A stalwart defender of what he loved. Of what he chose for himself. What his Alpha chose for him.
He's never been the type to run from anything.
Especially not a challenge.
“II… needs time, Vessel,” Ivy says, chewing on his bottom lip with aching teeth. He continues, voice low. Gravelly. Strained. Hungry. “Let me… try.”
Vessel growls. Trills. Makes a sound barely human.
Ivy blinks. Finds himself pulled forward a moment later. Feels Vessel shift them. Feels his own Alpha grumbles lowly in his throat as Ivy's back hits the wall. Vessel looms over him. Dark eyes taken by the beast he fights against. Conscious thought taken away.
Sheer instinct. Sheer desire. Want. Need. Love.
Ivy shudders. Vessel leans down low. Whispers in his ear.
“Don't want to hurt you,” the Dominant Alpha mumbles. Voice dripping with lust but smooth like velvet. Hot breath ghosts over his ear. The smell of the sea builds between them. Overwhelming in the minute space that separates them. “I… need… something you don't have. Something you can't give me. Something I can't take from you.”
Ivy swallows thickly. Reads between the lines. Smirks anyway. Confidence restored now. Hurt lingers on the edges of his, but it is no longer at the forefront. Muted. Dull.
“You won't hurt me,” Ivy tells him huskily.
“I won't… never again,” Vessel sighs, leaning backward. Hurt in his eyes. Pain in his voice. Ivy realizes it a moment later. How what he said had already been proven wrong. How hurt sometimes wasn't something physical. How sometimes it was something mental. Something intentional. Something selfish. But something unavoidable.
“Vessel,” Ivy frowns. Reaching back out. But Vessel slips his hold.
“Go back to bed,” Vessel murmurs. If it's meant as a command, it's shaky in its conviction. Lacking in bite. Dripping with remorse. “They both need you right now. I can't be there with them. Remember Ivy, I told you before but… II needs more than what I alone can give him. He always has.”
Ivy's lips part. He watches Vessel turn down the hall. Making for the stairs. Feels the weight of it now. His guilt. His struggle. His internal conflict. His self doubt. His anger towards himself. He doesn't need to feel his mate’s emotions to know Vessel well enough to read him. The unsaid things. The unexpressed ones. The things that Vessel keeps to himself. The things no one should have to.
“I don't think that's true,” Ivy whispers into the silent hall.
Vessel halts in his tracks. Turns on his heel. Offers him a shaky smile.
“I wish you could feel me,” Vessel confesses. Steals Ivy’s breath away as the Dominant Alpha turns away from him once more. Voice low. Tired. Strained. “I wish you knew how much I love you. How… sorry I am. For all of this. For everything.”
Vessel takes a step forward, planting his feet on the top step. Shaking. Scent erratic. Body at war with his mind. Instinct versus thought. Vessel versus his own Alpha. A pack leader who so obviously wishes he was more. Different. Better.
Everything the world around them thought that he should be.
Before Ivy can speak, Vessel barks out a humorless laugh.
“I only have myself to blame,” Vessel muses, more to himself than Ivy. Ivy reaches for him. Alpha howling in displeasure. Every nerve alight as Vessel descends the stairs. “It's always been that way.”
Ivy frowns, hand out stretched. Grasping at air. Trembling in the lingering silence.
He wishes he could feel Vessel, but hopes that Vessel feels him now.
His acceptance. His disagreement. His love. His hope. His fondness. His everything.
“I wish you could see yourself the way that we see you,” Ivy confesses to no one, wondering if his sentiment is felt all the same.
Nothing answers him. Only silence.
-
The next morning, the kitchen smells of freshly harvested flowers, eggs, and sizzling bacon.
Ivy’s stomach grumbles as he rounds the corner, dark locks pushed back, water dripping onto his collar as he approaches the oven. II stands before it, humming softly to himself. Sniffling. Unwell. That much has been clear since they woke up that morning. But the little Omega was on a mission. A blur of motion as he flips the eggs. Turns the bacon. Places the kettle on a hot burner to warm the cool water within it.
“You should be resting,” Ivy grumbles as he walks towards him. Still hurt. Still raw. But his head is clearer than the day before. He slept more than he cared to admit. Slept the day away. Slept straight through the night after his encounter with Vessel. But so did II. So did III. Exhausted beyond belief. Worn from emotions. From uncertainty. From everything that took place between them.
“I will,” II sniffles again, glancing over his shoulders. His eyes are red and swollen. Half lidded from deep sleep. His little nose is blood-red at the end. His skin flushed. II shivers as Ivy lays a hand on the small of his back. And in spite of everything, it makes Ivy smile. “I… just need to do this first.”
“My proper little chef,” Ivy chuckles lowly, recalling the nickname with fondness that belies the lingering pain in his chest. He fights through it. Reminds himself that they need to talk about it, yes. But right now he needs this. And so does II. He slinks further forward, wrapping his arms around his mate’s waist. Fingers flexing over the courting gift that he bought the drummer all those months ago. “You’re sick, II.”
“Once I finish breakfast, I’m… cleaning out the guestroom and doing laundry,” II tells him, not disagreeing with Ivy’s assessment. Shivering once more as Ivy lowers his head, breathing in the smell of leather on II’s clammy skin. “I’ll rest when I’m finished.”
“Vessel doesn’t know that you’re pushing yourself, I take it,” Ivy presumes, nuzzling into II’s scent gland. Feeling relief slam into him as II lets out a shuddered breath and leans back into his bare chest.
“Ve is… locked in the office,” II says softly. Ivy’s eyes fly open as he peers down at the food his little mate prepares. He loosens his hold as II reaches for the tongs to remove the bacon from the sizzling cast iron. “His scent is… off. I know what that means. I… need to eat and get things taken care of first.”
Ivy blinks, sucking in a hissed breath.
“You… can’t handle that right now,” he assesses, something II scoffs slightly at.
“You’d be amazed what my body can endure,” II snorts, but it quickly melds into a quiet cough. Ivy frowns. Nuzzles into him again. Once more kicking himself for not realizing how seriously the little Omega would be physically affected by the loss of his claim over Fore. “Vessel’s trying to keep it at bay. Distance helps him. He’ll be fine. And if he isn’t, he has me.”
“Vessel would be… upset to hear you say that,” Ivy tells him with a frown. II laughs softly. It’s no longer crystalline and bright like it usually is. It’s exhausted. It’s pained. It’s everything that Ivy feels spreading through their bond. As II takes the eggs off of the burner, Ivy reluctantly drops his hold. Steps backward as II reaches for the howling kettle.
“Since you… want open honesty,” II sniffles once more, wincing as he rubs his little nose raw. “Vessel has been holding me together through all of my bullshit and loving me through it since the day we first met. We’re all… hurting right now. But… he needs me. And I… I would do anything for him. He's… done so much for me.”
“Tell me,” Ivy says, lips twitching upward as he reaches for a stack of nearby plates. “Tell me when you knew that you were in love with him.”
II snorts, but it’s a wet sounding thing. Ivy can feel his physical pain. Wishes more than anything he could will it away. For all of his own hurt, his Alpha can’t stand it. Seeing II ill. Seeing him fighting to hold himself together. Ivy can’t stand the sight either.
“I walked into this… little cramped studio in my friend’s basement, and Vessel was there, sitting at the piano.” II starts, mumbling a thanks under his breath as Ivy spreads out the plates. “He had told me Hey, there’s this stupidly talented guy here who needs help with drumming. You want to come give it a shot? He’s brilliant, but he’s taking on too much on his own. and I had very reluctantly agreed to meet him.” II sniffles, dishing out the eggs before he continues. Ivy grabs the nearby mugs, listening intently.
“I was… nervous meeting new people, and my friend very conveniently left out the part where Vessel was a Dominant Alpha.” II laughs once more, and Ivy can’t help but smile in spite of the painful sound the drummer makes. “When I got there, I thought that he had thrown me into a cage with a hungry bear. But… Vessel looked up from his keyboard and,” II smiles, setting the empty pan inside the nearby sink. “I’ve never seen someone’s eyes light up like that before.”
II curses under his breath, wiping at his eyes. Ivy reaches for the napkin. Grabs five. Four for the plates. One for II’s tears. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching out to dry his mate’s tired eyes as II’s face turns a deeper shade of red
“The moment I knew I loved him was the night we stayed awake in a little twenty four internet cafe. We were working on ONE, and… this guy in the booth across from ours kept looking at me funny. I’ve seen that look a hundred times before,” II rolls his bleary eyes. Ivy dabs his fallen tears with the dry corner of the napkin. Distaste for the world’s view of his mate silent on his tongue. “Vessel growled at him.”
Ivy barks out a laugh. Voice hoarse, but the sound forces a smile to II’s lips anyways.
“And I thought to myself, He’s honestly such an idiot,” II chuckles. “But the guy fucked off, and Vessel… was so embarrassed. Then he spilled my tea all over his laptop. He made me… makes me feel safe. And I’ve been in love with him ever since.”
Ivy grins as II slips out of his grasp, heading for the kettle before he pours their cups.
“You owe me one now,” II coughs out, turning his head with a mumbled curse under his breath. “A story.”
“Now?” Ivy inquires, reaching out without thinking and dabbing away the last of the dampness from II’s cheek. His mate gives him a look, but beyond the tenseness that lingers between them, Ivy can feel his happiness through the bond. He feels it, too. It’s not picturesque like it was before. Not blinding like the sun’s light. But it was still a beautiful thing in spite of the hurt.
“Later,” II says with a shake of his head. “Tell III the food is ready. I'll leave food at the office door for Ve.”
“Go rest for a while,” Ivy suggests, catching II’s red rimmed pale eyes with his own. “III and I can move my stuff out of the guestroom. If you’re feeling better later, you can do the… cleaning you wanted to do.”
“Is that an order, Guardian?” II lilts, tilting his head to the side with a tiny little smirk. The barest hint of sharp teeth peeking out. Ivy’s cock twitches. He curses himself for it. But II merely chuckles, stepping forward and rising to kiss his cheek. II grimaces as he pulls away. “Your… stubble scratched my nose.”
“I can shave,” Ivy offers with a raised brow, eyeballing II’s reddened nose. The little Omega’s expression sours as II seizes a drink mug and plate for Vessel and turns on his heel.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” II barks at him, words that bring a smile to Ivy’s lips.
He watches him go, fighting the urge to reel him back. Eyeballs the food and rethinks his words instead.
Unpacking his things.
For a brief moment, he feels a sting in his chest again. But he forces himself to breathe through it, grabbing a mug and plate meant for III as he sets off in search of the bassist.
In spite of everything, his cheek is warm where II’s lips touched it.
-
Growing up, Ivy never felt like he owned much.
But now, in the room that's been stripped of linen, stripped of all traces of Fore’s presence, Ivy realizes how much that thought rings true. He's grateful, in a way. That III quietly bagged up and removed all of Fore's sheets. The blanket he had given II.
It would’ve been too much, he thinks. Seeing it now. Seeing how little he owns. A few boxes of worn clothes. A few boxes of chipped dishware he no longer needs. A microwave that he should have left at home. His old guitar. His prized possession. Thread bare bed sheets.
It's embarrassing. Seeing it laid out against the expensive, stripped bare mattress. Strewn about in the guestroom, which is nicer than any room Ivy's ever had for himself.
III lays a hand on the small of his back. Fire catching in his scent. Ivy breathes in deep, then sighs. Runs a hand through his short dark hair as III's arms slowly encircle him. The Empath rests his head atop Ivy's own. III's chin digs into his scalp.
Ivy closes his eyes.
Everything in the room is quiet except for his heartbeat. And it feels far too loud in his ears.
“I know it’s stupid,” Ivy mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. Stubble pricks his fingertips. He thinks of II. His little red nose. The sniffling. Frowns as he leans further back into III’s steady hold. Tries not to think of his meager possessions. Tries not to think of Vessel’s looming rut. Tries not to think of Fore. Fails. “But this room… feels like his.”
III doesn’t say anything. Just breathes against the crown of his head. Cedarwood and fire dance in Ivy’s nostrils as he breathes in deep. Exhaling slowly.
“I know I’m not him,” Ivy adds, quieter now. “I know that none of you see me that way. But it’s hard not to feel like I’m just… the patch you’re using to fill the hole he left behind.” He laughs, but it’s an exhausted, humorless thing. “It’s not even a very good patch, is it? He… really left behind a lot of damage. Even if he… wanted to make things right. Even if he… did.”
“You’re not filling his place, love,” III mumbles softly, squeezing him tighter. “You’re making your own. Here. With us. As a part of this pack. I… I need you to understand something, Ivy. I… wanted nothing more than to tell you. To run after you when you stormed out the back door to the patio. But II… II is…”
“Your priority,” Ivy finishes for him, opening his eyes slowly. Staring at his unboxed possessions. What little he owns. “Our priority.”
“He’ll never tell you this, but…” III sucks in a hissed breath through gritted teeth. Blows out warm air over Ivy’s scalps, sending shivers down his spine. “For a really, really long time… II has been afraid of… of almost everything. People. Getting hurt. Getting sick. Being… vulnerable. Vess and I… we both promised him something a long time ago. To never leave him alone like that. When he’s feeling weak.”
“Do I even want to know why he’s afraid? Is it because of…him?” Ivy asks, frowning as he cranes his head back against III’s chest. Dislodging the Empath’s head. Ivy gazes up at him. Sees his tired, red rimmed eyes. As if III was teetering on the verge of crying once again.
He hates it. Seeing III hurt.
He hates even more how he feels partially responsible for it. Knowing that the Empath could feel every emotion that Ivy did. That they all did.
II's end of the bond is frayed. Frantic. Sickly. Tired. Nervous. Stressed.
Vessel, even if he can't feel him, is so obviously strained. Guilt ridden. Demoralized. Self deprecating. Self conscious. Remorseful.
Ivy can't imagine it. What that must be like for III to experience.
“No, II's… fears go back way further than that,” III sighs, eyes half-lidded. Exhausted. Worn. “Before he met Vessel, II barely left his grandparent's house, where he grew up. He had a… Beta and a Shelter Alpha, who was a tenured professor at his university, as an escort to and from classes. The mutual friend he and Vessel shared was the only person II really spoke with outside of class. He's a Beta. Nice guy, but… oblivious to our world.”
III tilts his head down further. Squeezes Ivy tighter. As if it will make the frown on Ivy's lips disappear. Return them to neutral. Return them to anything but displeasure.
It doesn't.
But III continues.
“II has always been so… independent. But you know how it is, Ivy. He's a sought after Omega. Even if II is strong and collected… physically? He doesn’t stand a chance against someone like us.” III spits the words out like venom. Ivy can see hatred burning in his eyes. He feels the same fire catch slowly in his own. “Vessel was his… shield from everything terrible that kept him locked away in his grandparent's cottage.”
III smiles, but there's lingering ire in his eyes.
“Vessel still is. But he also has me. And now, he has you…” III says. It sounds like sheer relief. As if he's been holding those words back for a while. Unsure of whether or not Ivy was going to stay. Stick around. Be the Guardian for II, and the pack as a whole, just as he promised them he would be.
“Yeah,” Ivy hums in agreement, shuffling the last of the boxes around as he slips from III’s hold. He places what little he desires to keep in one pile. Moves the others back into the guestroom’s corner. Making a mental note to discard them when the rubbish was next cleared away.
“He’s loved you ever since you stepped in front of him on stage,” III whispers quietly. Ivy stills. Listening. Eyes drifting from the sparse pile of his belongings that he deigns to keep where the Empath stands. Watching him with a small smile. “He… doesn’t love you because you remind him of Fore. Or because you smell… similar. He loves you because he feels safe with you. And for II, that’s… that’s everything to him.”
“What about you?” Ivy asks, fondness swelling in his chest as III offers him a genuine smile.
“When did I fall in love with you?” III inquires with a raised brow. Humming when Ivy nods. Cheeks darkening. Smile growing. Eyes crinkling in their corners. III has always been pretty. Ivy’s never thought anything different. But right now? III looks radiant in spite of the proof of pain that surrounds his swollen eyes. “When we sat on the front porch, I asked you not to bring up II’s heat or give him a hard time. You instantly agreed. Took it seriously. It started then.”
Ivy smiles. Steps forward. Doesn’t think about anything else. Not his measly possessions. Not his hurt. III’s smile is all he sees as he leans his head into III’s chest, breathing him in. III’s arms encircle him. They sway gently back and forth.
“Please don’t ever think that you aren’t good enough,” III begs him, holding him closer. “Don’t ever think that you’re the replacement for someone who hurt us. You’re not, Ivy. You’re you. A good man. A great Alpha. A wonderful mate. You’re nothing like him.”
Ivy lets out a shuddered breath.
“I know that,” he says because it’s true. Because he does know that he and Fore are different. That they need to know that he knows it. Even if III can feel his acceptance, he needs to vocalize it. Bring life into the words. Assign them meaning.
“I love you so fucking much,” III whispers into the crown of his head. Warm lips ghosting over his hair. Forcing a shiver out of him. Ivy hums softly. Squeezes him back. “I… couldn’t bear the thought of you… leaving us. Leaving me.”
“I’d never be able to live with myself if I did that,” Ivy confesses, leaning further into the bassist’s chest. Listening to the rapid beating of his heart. His quick intakes of breaths. Heat simmers in his gut. But Ivy kicks himself for it. Reels it in. Smells the fire and the cedar and lets it become a grounding force instead. “I’d… still see your scar on my neck everyday. I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror again, either.”
“Because it’s not a claim,” III says the words sadly. Scent souring. Ivy shakes his head against him. Amber wafts forward.
It comforts. Doesn't hurt. Not III. Not him.
“It is,” Ivy disagrees, kissing the Empath’s sternum. Right above his thunderous heartbeat. “Just not the kind that venom inflicts. Or the kind that Vessel can undo. It’s just as important though, remember?”
III’s breath catches. Ivy hears it. Feels it. Smiles into his mate’s shirt as III holds him impossibly close. Nearly crushing him. Forcing a laugh out of him as he playfully pushes against III’s chest.
“I meant what I said,” III grumbles into his hair. Ivy closes his eyes. Feels kiss after kiss as III places them on his brow. Smiles to himself as the Empath continues to rock them back and forth. “I love you, Ivy. I’m… so fucking sorry for what we did and the role I played in it. I… just… thank you. For not giving up on me. On us. For sticking around. You’re… everything to us too, you know? We’d be lost if you were gone.”
“I love you too,” Ivy assures him, clutching at III’s back. Breathing in his scent. Allowing himself to calm. Allowing his Alpha to rest. Hoping that it provides III some semblance of peace. Of comfort. Of something other than exhaustion. Illness. Sadness. Remorse. Stress. “I… I’d be lost without the three of you. Stuck in a place that never was kind to me. I… I don’t regret it, III. I need you to know that.”
III lets out a shuddered breath. Heartbeat quickening once again. Scent flaring. Coiling in Ivy’s nostrils.
When he feels tears dampen his hair, he hugs the Empath just a little tighter.
-
II throws Fore’s blanket away.
Tosses it in the outside rubbish bin that night as Ivy watches him through the nearby window. He is not alone. III stands alongside him. And Vessel… trails after II. Hypervigiliant. Uneasy. Following II around as if his property, his territory, is no longer the safe haven it truly is. Vessel’s hands are shaking when they re-enter their home. The Dominant Alpha ushers II inside before shutting the door. Locking all three separate locks immediately afterward.
Vessel’s eyes are dilated. Black. Scent erratic. Strong. Heady. An encroaching monsoon. Drenching the walls in the salt of the sea. The smell of the rain. He eyes II as Ivy follows his gaze. Registering the relief he sees in II’s pale blue eyes. The happiness coming through their bond, as if letting go of that final piece of Fore had somehow freed him from the shackles of his previous Alpha’s ghost.
Ivy smiles at them. Elbows III playfully. But III doesn’t respond.
Not at first.
“Vess,” III says at last. Vessel’s dark eyes snap to the Empath immediately. Ivy watches Vessel’s sharp fangs dig into his bottom lip, as if they ache. As if he needs to sink them into something.
Ivy realizes he probably does.
“Don’t worry about it,” II says, voice slightly clearer now in spite of his lack of rest. He sniffles a little. Rolls his pretty, bleary eyes. Pads over to Vessel as Ivy and III watch him out of curiosity. II steps forward, throwing his arms around Vessel’s waist. Burying his pretty face into the Dominant Alpha’s heaving chest. "I have you, Ve. I'm here. It's okay. We're... fine now. You can let go."
Vessel makes a sound. It’s not human, not fully. Instinctual, yes. But not in the way Ivy’s ever known it. Only ever associates it with Vessel. The same person who the air itself crackles for. The same person who nature seems to give way for. The same person who eyes him as if he’s his next meal.
Ivy’s cock twitches.
He doesn’t curse himself for it.
Remembers his words. His desires. How he wants to try.
It won’t fix anything. Sleeping together. Sharing pleasure. Skin on skin. Crashing over the peak together.
But it isn’t meant to be healing. Not when Vessel is so clearly suffering. Holding back an unstoppable force with sheer guilt and willpower alone. Not when II is still recovering from something traumatic. Sick and sad. Not when III is dancing on the razor’s edge of his emotions boiling over. Constantly teary eyed and overwhelmed. Not when Ivy himself is only just beginning to heal. To accept and forgive.
But Vessel is his mate. His Alpha.
II is his mate. His Omega.
III is his mate. His Alpha equal. His chosen partner.
They’re all hurt. Tired. Suffering from one pain or another.
What Ivy wants can’t be accomplished by lying together. But by the assuagement of their suffering. The release of pressure. Of tension. Of instinctual need and desire. He wants them. All of them. Always will. Even when things aren’t perfect. Even when they’re all hurt but healing. He loves them.
Enough to stay.
Enough to try something that unnerves him.
Enough to try something that terrifies his Alpha, even if it trusts its mate to not inflict physical pain upon them.
But not all pain was equal.
The hurt he feels over their suffering. Over Fore. Over Ivy’s own suffering. It’s immense. Fresh. Raw.
But Vessel can’t fight a losing battle forever.
III seems apprehensive. Ivy knows why. Knows that the bassist feels helpless. He doesn’t need a bond with him to discern it. Can see it in his mate’s eyes. The doubt. The fear. The resignation.
And II…
Ivy thinks of III’s words. Remembers them well.
”Little love can take it. He handles Vessel, and Vessel's ruts are... well... you and I can't handle those for him.”
Ivy knows what he needs to do. To try. To take the pressure off of II. To ease the strain and war in Vessel’s eyes.
But Vessel….
Ivy watches. Silent. Observant. Alpha pacing in his chest. Vessel effortlessly lifts II. Secures their little mate in his arms. Says nothing as he carries him up the stairs. Disappearing in a flurry. Ivy blinks. A beat passes.
Vessel isn’t gone for long. Comes back a moment later like a silent storm, circling back to its flood. Vessel is silent still. Scent cresting like a tidal wave as it washes over them. The Dominant Alpha nudges him towards the stairs. Nudges III alongside him. III laughs a little, as if this is a well rehearsed and practiced thing. Ivy’s cock twitches with renewed interest. Without complaint, he obeys the silent command. Takes the stairs two at a time. Lets himself be led into the bedroom.
II lies comfortably sprawled out in the center of the nest.
The moment the bedroom door closes, Vessel locks it. Nudges them forward until their knees hit the bed. Until they sit upon it.
In the next moment, Vessel is hovering over II. His scent saturates every surface. Rolling off of him in waves. Overwriting everything else. II will complain about the imbalance to his scent-work later on, Ivy thinks but II merely moans. Baring his neck. Letting Vessel kiss, nuzzle, and lick away at the still tender flesh.
II’s moans are soft. Quiet. Scratchy at times from the illness that wracks him. But never, not for a single moment, does Ivy doubt how much II wants this. Wants Vessel. Wants their Alpha to sink his teeth into him. For Vessel’s cock to sink into him.
He can feel II’s arousal. Smell it in the air. Buried beneath the lingering pain. The muted sickness. II gives into desire. Into his love for his Dominant mate.
Ivy's heartbeat quickens in response to the raw display of want. Of instinct. The desire for closeness. For togetherness. For the collapse of distance between them.
A low ache sparks in his gut as his cock pulses in anticipation. III finds and squeezes his hand. Grounding him.
Vessel’s eyes glance backward. A moment of clarity in them as Ivy meets his gaze.
It’s a final out.
A hard fought invitation to decline participation.
Ivy swallows thickly. Remembers why and how he fell in love with Vessel in the first place.
He palms at his cock through his black sweatpants. Knows that Vessel can feel his own simmering arousal. That II can feel it. That so can III. He lets it be answer enough.
Bites his bottom lip with aching teeth.
Feels his cock grow hard beneath his hand.
Vessel expertly moves II off of the bed. Undresses their beautiful mate in a flurry of motion until II’s gorgeous body is bare upon their sheets.
No one speaks. No one needs to.
Vessel gently guides II down. Face first. Pulls his pretty ass into the air. Palms at his pale cheeks. Spreading them apart. Slick drips onto the covers beneath them, as if II has been riling himself up for hours in secret. Hiding it even through their bond. Ivy’s breath catches. His cock hardens. When Vessel hastily pulls free his cock, dripping and obviously painfully hard, Ivy swallows thickly.
“II’s chosen to be sweet,” III grumbles in his ear and Ivy shudders hard. The Empath chuckles. Warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Vessel’s gonna be gentle with him for it. But first?”
Ivy licks his lips.
Vessel pins II down. Bares his weight on him. Wolfish teeth poised at their mate’s swollen scent gland as Vessel takes his place behind him, teasing II’s slick drenched hole with the head of his weeping cock. Ivy eyes Vessel’s already swollen knot. Chews on his bottom lip. Wonders how II will ever get that thing inside of him.
How he was ever hoping that he himself would be able to.
“Keep being good for me,” Vessel growls huskily. Taken. Gone. Given over entirely to the throes of instinct. Of rut. Of pleasure. II brokenly whines. Ivy can feel his need. His desire. His aching want to be filled. II’s scent curls thickly. Saccharine. “I’ll be easy with you, my precious Omega.”
Harmony dances in the air.
The Guardian takes its offer this time without hesitation.
Feels it sink into him. Settles in his bones. Calm his Alpha entirely. Bring forth the heat that coils thickly in his gut. His cock kicks hard.
“Fuck that,” II grumbles back, whining. “Just fuck me already.”
Vessel’s eyes soften. Then darken once more. Scent dripping with want. With lust. Caramel colored irises fading to black.
Teeth sink into pale flesh. Vessel sinks his length into II in one powerful stroke.
II’s bond explodes with pleasure as he screams out a hoarse, beautiful moan.
Ivy nearly cums on the spot. Grips his cock harder to force himself not to. Curses under his breath as III mumbles a breathy fuck underneath his own.
Watches Vessel’s pulsating knot in fascination. Lust in his eyes. Blood pumping. Cock painfully hard.
III licks a stripe up his ear, causing him to tremble. Ivy’s breath is shaky as he exhales.
“II likes it rough. Vessel’s going to give him what he wants. Fill him up,” III whispers, lithe fingers dancing over Ivy’s thigh. Drifting towards his cock. Ivy removes his hand. Bites his lip hard enough he draws blood. Feels no jealousy then. No anger. His Alpha, too, is quiet.
Enamored.
Keen on the scent of pack in the air. In II’s whines of pleasure. Of Vessel’s growl as he cums, filling their mate. His swollen knot keeps the two of them locked into place. The Dominant Alpha’s teeth sink deeper into II’s scent gland. Vessel’s body pins II’s entirely in place.
Dominating him. Re-claiming him. Marking him as pack once more. As Vessel's. As theirs.
II’s pleasure melds into his own. III’s hand tentatively brushes over Ivy’s cock. Ivy lets out a groan.
III’s deft and soft lips swallow the sound.
Ivy gives into instinct, too. Gives into love. Gives into his mates as if it's as easy as breathing air.
Because for Ivy, in spite of everything, it is.
Notes:
Smut? To be continued. ;)
See you all next time!
Chapter 18: Encore
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Emotional stuff. Fluff. <3
Before anything else, thank you all so much for the support on this fic. I am in awe that it reached 500 kudos. You all are beyond lovely and kind. <3
Notes:
Hi, hi!
I've had quite the week, but I managed to get nearly 7k words done. <3 We are nearing the end of Act 2, the final chapter of Act 2 will be the one after this. Then, we begin the final, and probably longest, act! I'm super excited about what comes next. ;)
Before we begin, I want to once more link the amazing Pack House that was made in the Sims by the lovely ghostsvessel . She made my mental image come to life, but made it soooo much better than I expected. Definitely check it out if you haven't!
Link is here: LENSFLARE Pack House
Also, a huge shoutout to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
I am doing my best to respond to all of the amazing comments you all have left. I will be taking several hours tomorrow to try to get to as many as I can. The support on this fic is astronomical, and I am so very grateful to you all. Thank you all so much for continuing this journey alongside me. I hope you stick around! <3
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The bedroom is soaked through in their mingling scents, laced with sex.
Ivy's tongue dances across Vessel's leaking cock. Grazing against the veins. The pulsating of his skin. The lingering taste of II's slick. Of Vessel's own cum. III's tongue meets his there. Runs across the other side of Vessel's cock as the Dominant Alpha growls. Ivy smirks when Vessel's hand settles in his hair. The singer's other hand finds a place tangled in III's unruly golden locks. Vessel holds them close, bucks his hips slightly into the space between their tongues and mouths.
Beneath them, II whimpers slightly.
Fucked out. Exhausted. Dripping with sweat. Thighs soaked in slick. Hole leaking Vessel's plentiful cum.
Vessel remains knelt between II’s parted thighs. III lounging on one side of the mattress beside them. Ivy kneels on the other side, meeting III in the middle. Leaning over II, mouth open and pliant as he joins III in continuing to work over Vessel’s dripping length.
Ivy angles his head further. His lips slide along Vessel's cock, trailing down a vein. Meeting III reddened lips in the center. Their tongues lash against one another's, both tasting the Dominant Alpha. Vessel groans. A low growl. Head tilted back. Sweat dripping from his defined chest. II's cock twitches beneath them. Spent. Slowly hardening. Keen on more even if II himself is in a daze. Ivy groans around Vessel. Body vibrating with lust and desire as III's tongue swipes his lips. Leaving behind spit.
"Good boys," Vessel praises them, voice as rough as gravel. Ivy moans then. Feels Vessel's fingers tighten in his hair as the Dominant Alpha slides his cock between their open, waiting lips. Sliding his cock over their tongues.
Vessel's cock twitches, drenched in spit. Knot slowly forming at the base. Expanding slowly. Vessel growls, pulling them closer. Ivy licks a line down the shaft of his cock. III's head dips lower when he slides free from Vessel's hold. III moans openly as he takes one of Vessel's balls into his mouth, forcing the Dominant Alpha to pant and bucks his hips forward with renewed fervor. II whines sweetly below them. Trembling hands rising. Clutching at them. Reminding them of his own burgeoning wants in spite of his illness.
"Fuck," Vessel growls, gnawing on his bottom lip with wolfish fangs. Ivy feels Vessel's cock throb beneath his lips. Renews his own efforts. Kisses his flushed, dripping length. Sucks on the head, tongue lapping at the slit of Vessel's leaking cock. Vessel groans. The hand in Ivy’s hair tightens, pulling him off with a low, possessive growl. Vessel's other hand pulls III free from his own task as the singer settles his hips lower. "Move."
Ivy lays his head above II's pretty cock as III slides backward, holding II's legs open. Vessel plunges into II with a howl. The little Omega's body shakes as II tilts his head back with a hoarse scream. Vessel pumps into II once, then twice. Cock pulsing as the Dominant Alpha's length is easily accommodated by II's drenched hole. Slick gushes from II as the drummer's hands fly to Ivy's hair. Holding him in place as Vessel buries himself to the hilt before his knot slips through II's spasming hole. Ivy shivers, sticking his tongue out.
He catches II's tiny spurt of cum with his tongue, drinking it in as Vessel growls and grips II's thighs like a lifeline. Spilling inside of their little mate. Locking their bodies together. Keeping II full of his cum.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," II whines. His voice is scratchy. His eyes bleary. Ivy can feel his trembles as he kisses the drummer's lithe stomach, soothing him. Vessel's scent washes over them in waves. Bathing them in his very essence as III encircles Vessel with his arms and mumbles encouragement into the Dominant Alpha's ear.
"You okay, II?" Ivy asks, rising from II's stomach as he leans up and presses a kiss to II's furrowed brow.
"Full," II whines softly, nuzzling into him. Sniffling. Ivy frowns. Kisses his trembling jaw. "Tired."
"You deserve a break," Ivy whispers, head lulling further into II's. Alpha contemplating. Deciding. Choosing, as it so often does. "I'll... see if I can do it. You need to rest."
II barks out a laugh as III lets out a shuddered breath. Vessel merely continues to grumble. A pure droning sound.
"You really are the self-sacrificial type, aren't you?" II asks huskily, threading small fingers through Ivy's dark hair. Tugging. Ivy moans slightly, smiling into II's skin. "III already told you, Ivy. You're going to wind up hurt."
"You're the one who's going to be hurt at this rate," Ivy mumbles right back. "You know I can't allow that."
It's the truth. He wants nothing more than to protect II. Angry. Sad. Worried. Exhausted. It makes no difference to Ivy. To his Alpha.
Protecting II, even when he's safe, remains his goal.
Serving his pack remains his sole mission. Guarding them in public and private. Doing the things that need to be done no matter how much it might hurt him in the process.
Vessel's rut is an extensive, intense thing.
II's body is tired. Sickly. Healing.
Vessel knows that. Only knots II now. Doesn't fuck into him as he did the first few rounds with II's more than apparent want and blessing. Fucks III's mouth instead. Fucks Ivy's thighs. Both of their mouths. Spills his cum inside II only for the purpose of achieving a relief that Ivy knows pains Vessel otherwise. II doesn't complain. Never. Not once. But he doesn't need to.
Ivy knows II needs rest.
They all know it.
"Ve... won't hurt me," II laughs, but it's an exhausted sounding thing.
"Never," Vessel rumbles then, leaning down and around Ivy on the opposing side. Kissing II's cheek over and over again. Sickeningly sweet. Nuzzling into him. Flooding II with his scent. His love is palpable to Ivy even without a proper bond. He tries not to frown at the thought. Fails. Vessel's eyes snap to his. Ivy swallows thickly. "You'd... try for me?"
"I... would," Ivy confirms shakily. Fingers outstretching. Searching. Finding purchase in Vessel's sweat dampened, dark locks. He brushes them back, smiling as Vessel leans into his touch.
"Ivy," III says softly. Tentatively. Voice shakier than Ivy's ever heard it before. His eyes snap to III, where the bassist still kneels behind Vessel at the end of the mattress. III's eyes are wary. Blue-green and bloodshot. Lust and desire replaced entirely with concern. Ivy hesitantly removes his hand from Vessel's warm cheek. He catches III's shaky hand as the Empath reaches out. "I... don't want to see you get hurt, love. I don't think this is a good idea."
"Let him try," II speaks up, voice soft but scratchy. Ivy watches in his periphery as the little Omega wraps his arms around Vessel, rubbing soothing circles in Vessel's shivering back. Vessel nuzzles into II's swollen scent gland in return, whining softly. "Vessel will stop if it's too much."
"And if he doesn't, little love? Are you going to relegate him to the couch?" III smiles softly, his other hand reaching out to rest on Vessel and II's tangled legs.
II's scent goes sour.
III's face falls. Vessel stills. Ivy slowly turns his head to look downward at their little mate. But II buries his face in Vessel's neck.
"No one is sleeping on the couch," II grumbles, his words muffled and quiet, "never again."
Silence answers him. Heavy. Understanding.
For a fleeting moment, Ivy feels another flash of sadness build in his chest. But he buries it. Stifles it. Shuts it out and forces himself to remain in the moment as III nods. The bassist moves, settling to the side of Vessel and II's joined bodies as they continue to come down with one another.
Vessel hums lowly. The sound is more breathy and instinctual than voice. Ivy watches intently as Vessel presses a reverent kiss to II’s temple. The Dominant Alpha stays buried inside II for another moment, as if reluctant to part from him. As if the act of detachment will shatter the sense of peace that's once more fallen over them. But II’s body trembles. His eyes are tired. And his scent bears the threadbare edge of depletion. Distant lavender. Faraway honey. Spiced vanilla moved to the back burner.
Gently, slowly, Vessel braces a hand behind II’s trembling thigh. Shifts his hips back with practiced care. His knot slips free from II’s swollen rim with a wet sound. Accompanied by a low, choked groan. II gasps softly. His body shudders with the release. Slick and cum spill out, dripping onto the duvet beneath them. Ivy's cock twitches. His eyes bewitched by the sight.
"You did so good, II," Ivy whispers, brushing the back of his fingers along II’s damp cheek as Vessel gently retreats. "You need to rest now."
II’s lashes flutter. He nods faintly, cheeks flushed from exertion and affection alike. His hands remain on Vessel's skin, removed from his back and shifting down his toned forearms. As if letting go of their Alpha would make the world itself shift beneath him. As if Vessel is the only thing keeping him conscious. Keeping him in place. Vessel’s own hands don’t leave II entirely. The Dominant Alpha lingers, thumbs trailing over their Omega’s soft, sweat-slicked skin. Vessel leans forward, pressing his forehead against II’s.
"Thank you, my love," Vessel murmurs to him. II smiles, scent sweetening. Ivy smiles with him. "Gonna take you shopping next week. Wanna spoil you."
Vessel presses one last kiss to II’s parted lips before straightening, scent flaring hot with something newly ravenous.
Ivy barely has time to inhale before Vessel’s focus pins him.
It’s instinctive, the shift between them. From tenderness to hunger. From Dominant Alpha to claiming force of nature.
Ivy swallows hard.
He tilts his head slightly, as Vessel reaches out for him. Ignoring the grumbling of his reconciling Alpha and offering his throat up in silent submission. It earns him a rumble of approval from Vessel, a hand tightening on his shoulder before sliding down his bare chest. Then reaching lower.
Vessel drags Ivy close by the hips, nudging him gently until he’s straddling II’s waist. III leans in, helping support Ivy with steady hands on his side and thigh. Ivy feels unease wash over him. Silences it with the slow drag of II's fingertips as they dance over the stubble on his cheeks.
"You’ll tell me if it’s too much," Vessel says lowly, not as a question, but a command laced with palpable concern. His fingers curl around Ivy’s jaw, just beside II's. His thumb strokes his cheek, brushing II over where the little Omega's fingers have only just touched.
"I will," Ivy nods against their hands. His Alpha paces within him. Nervous. Amber and warm leather dance in the air.
The smell of amber only hardens his resolve. To prove to himself how he is nothing like Fore. How he is willing to go to lengths that Fore never could. How he is willing to prioritize the pack above himself. Prioritize II. Prioritize Vessel.
Apparently satisfied with his resolve, Vessel shifts his attention downward.
Ivy moans softly as Vessel reaches between II’s parted thighs beneath him. Vessel dips two thick fingers into the mess spilling from the little Omega’s sore hole. He gathers a mixture of II's gushing slick and Vessel's own oozing cum, coating his fingertips. Ivy shudders at the sight. At the scent. At the raw display of lust. At the palpable air of desire that surrounds them as Vessel's rut reaches its fever pitch.
Vessel withdraws his fingers slowly. Dripping. Glistening. The Dominant Alpha brings them to Ivy’s quivering entrance with reverence.
The first touch is warm. Familiar. The mix of II’s scent and Vessel’s own makes Ivy moan before a finger even breaches him.
Vessel hums again, low and intent. Pleased. III's fingers dig into his side. II's hands shift, finding III's. Holding him. Grounding him.
"You want to take me?" Vessel breathes into the shell of Ivy's ear. Voice thick with rut and lust. "You want to help your pack so badly?"
Ivy groans, voice catching.
"Words, Guardian," Vessel chuckles darkly, oceanic scent flaring. Settling over Ivy like a blanket of warm water and soft sand.
"I want to," Ivy says, panting slightly. Alpha grumbling out of his throat. Scent flaring. Determination setting in. "I want to help."
Vessel slides the first finger in, kissing Ivy's neck in the process.
It’s easier than it should be. Ivy's already stretched from earlier teasing. The mix of body fluids on Vessel's fingers makes it nearly frictionless. But it’s the intimacy of it all that hits the hardest. This isn’t just about sex or rut, but about care. Proximity. Continuity. Trust. Forgiveness. Love.
III rests his forehead against Ivy’s upper arm as Vessel begins to move his finger. Slow and steady. Vessel's low, gravelly rumbles soothe him. Keep him steady. A second finger joins the first, pressing into him in one slow push. Ivy arches, his head tipping back with a moan. Vessel smiles into his skin, groaning.
"You take me so well," Vessel rasps, fingers prodding gently. Stretching him open. "Such a good boy, my gorgeous Guardian."
Ivy grumbles, trembling. His hands find II’s shoulders. His knees quiver against the sheets. Beneath him, II smiles. At his side, III kisses his shoulder. Ivy leans down further, and his Alpha finally settles once more. Recognizes this. Vessel over him. His Alpha.
"More," Ivy exhales, licking his lips. "I can take more."
"You will," Vessel murmurs, and presses a kiss between Ivy's shoulder blades. "But not before you’re ready, love."
And then, Vessel adds a third finger.
Ivy gasps, forehead falling against II’s bare shoulder once more. II shifts slightly beneath him, not quite entirely awake but murmuring something soft and sweet. Reaching for him even in exhaustion. Ivy lets him. Lets all of them. Seek his skin. Soothe him. Ground him. Hold him together as Vessel's fingers gradually take him apart.
Vessel gently adds in a fourth finger and Ivy curses. Hissing. III whimpers against him. II softly shushes him. Vessel whispers encouragement to him. Guides him through it, patient and relentless all at once.
Vessel kisses between Ivy’s shoulder blades again. Lingers there. Breath hot over his sweat damp skin. His cock heavy and flushed against Ivy’s inner thigh. Ivy shivers, his own cock twitching. II sleepily sniffles below him, but his scent sweetens. Harmony coils in the air. Quiet, tamed offering. Ivy feels the moment that both he and Vessel accept it, as if the Omega's gift links them.
“You ready, gorgeous?” Vessel murmurs into his skin, voice as smooth as silk. His scent is the smell of looming storm clouds. His fingers are still buried inside Ivy, still coaxing him open. “Need you to tell me.”
Ivy nods first, but it’s not enough. Vessel growls. Not out of anger, but insistence. Ivy chuffs back. Can't help the sound. Feels Vessel's smile all the same.
“I need words, Guardian," Vessel reminds him.
“Yes,” Ivy breathes out. His body trembles, but not from fear. It's determination. Anticipation. Nerves. “I’m ready, Vessel. I want to try. I want you.”
Vessel exhales roughly against his skin. His fingers slip free from Ivy’s hole with a slick sound that makes all four of them shudder. III whimpers quietly from beside them. II stirs, mumbling sleepily as one hand rubs III's. The other rubbing Ivy's own shaking hand. Vessel shifts behind him. The mattress dips further as one hand guides Ivy’s hips further, angling him. Ivy leans downward, head on II's shoulder. Ass raised in the air. Vessel strokes his own cock. He strokes himself once. Twice. Then presses the thick, dripping head of his cock to Ivy’s entrance.
There’s no teasing. No time for more foreplay.
Vessel chuckles darkly.
"Mine."
And then, the Dominant Alpha pushes in.
The burn is immediate. So is the stretch. Ivy gasps, body clenching, Alpha grumbling deep within his chest as his knees press harder into the sheets. III and II both murmur his name. Whisper soft encouragements that dance across his skin. II holds his head to the side. Keeps his neck bared. III's fingers shift up and down his shaking limbs. Vessel’s hands grip his hips with bruising reverence, holding him steady as he sinks in inch by inch.
“Fuck,” Vessel hisses through gritted teeth. “So tight, so good for me.”
“Fuck, Vess," Ivy chokes on the rest of the words. They scatter like his thoughts. Incoherent, as the head of Vessel’s cock pops past the tightest ring of muscle. “Holy shit... you feel so fucking good.”
“You’re taking him so well, Ivy.” II whispers sweetly against Ivy’s cheek, brushing sweat-damp hair from his face. Voice hoarse but tone saccharine. Scent calming him. Harmony holding him. Regarding him and his Alpha as if he was something undeniably precious. “You’re doing so good for him. Just breathe, let it happen. I have you. We have you.”
“You can always stop if it's too much,” III adds, his voice tight but tender. Squeezing II's hand tighter. Other hand regarding Ivy with an abundance of care. Concern. “Let us know if you need to, love.”
Ivy’s whole body arches as Vessel pushes in deeper. Every inch steals breath. Every second feels eternal. By the time that Vessel's knot stops him from proceeding any further, both of them are trembling. Ivy’s breath is erratic as II holds him closer.
Vessel stays still. Letting Ivy adjust. Letting him feel every pulse. Every twitch. Every promise of the knot swelling at the base.
Ivy's cock grazes II's. The little Omega moans sweetly. Hand shifting from Ivy's neck to slither between them. Gripping them both as best as II can as he strokes them languidly. Ivy moans. Sees stars. Wills his body to relax as Vessel's knot pulses at his stretched rim.
“You okay?” Vessel asks softly, nose brushing over Ivy’s sweat-slicked spine.
"Yeah,” Ivy rasps. His throat is dry, eyes wet. Alpha howling in his chest. "Think... I think I can do this."
“Want me to move?” Vessel questions, kissing his back as Ivy trembles from pleasure.
“Please," Ivy begs, doesn't care if it's unbecoming. Reminds himself why he's doing this. Why he needs this. Why he needs to feel Vessel's love and care for him. Ease Vessel's suffering. Ease II's burden. Ease III's worries. They all need this. Ivy's no longer surprised by the ease in which submission comes to him. Not when it's Vessel who asks it of him.
Not when Ivy wants more than anything to feel him.
Vessel moves slowly. Carefully. The first pull out makes Ivy whimper and tighten around him. The slide back in knocks the air from his lungs. The rhythm begins like waves. Gentle. Steady. Gradually, it builds. Vessel finds his pace. His depth. And Ivy begins to unravel.
“Oh fuck, Vessel,” Ivy cries out, voice rising as Vessel slams back into him with a growl. Bruising his prostate. II's hand tightens on their cocks. Ivy's weeping as II's twitches alongside his own. “Gods, don’t you dare fucking stop.”
“Never,” Vessel grits out through a deep chuckle. Alpha flaring. Dominance rearing its head. “Not until I’ve filled you. Fucked you so good that you can't think straight. Made you mine. Keep you fucked open on my knot. Cumming hard on my cock.”
Ivy moans, wrecked. Distantly aware of II beneath him, kissing his cheek. Of III pressing kisses along his shoulder. But all he can feel is Vessel. Claiming him. Driving into him with strength and purpose. With heat and praise and need so thick it drowns him.
“Breathe, love,” III murmurs, voice quiet over the squelching that follows each thrust. “Keep breathing for us. For me.”
“You’re so perfect,” II adds reverently. His fingers stroke Ivy’s throat, his temple. His voice is a balm. “We’re right here with you, Ivy. Not going anywhere.”
His Alpha sings in his blood. Thrums with devotion. With pride. With a sense of purpose. Of protection. Devotion. Pack.
He's so glad he stayed. That they love him.
As Vessel’s knot begins to press harder against his rim, he doesn't panic. He pushes back. Spreads his legs a hair wider. Holds his ass in the air higher.
“Good fucking boy,” Vessel growls approvingly, tone shredded by the claws of instinct. “So perfect for me. Gonna knot you, Ivy. Gonna fucking stay inside you.”
Ivy sobs with it. Wants it. Takes it.
“Do it,” he chokes out, mind in a haze. “Do it, please. Want it so fucking bad. I want you."
Vessel slams in one final time. The force of it is enough to knock a cry from all three of them. Vessel's scent flares. Drenches the walls. Saturates them like the sea.
His knot slips past the rim. Locks inside.
Ivy screams. Vision whiting out. Cock spilling in II's hands as he cums hard. Hole spasming around the intrusion as Vessel's knot settles inside him. Stretches him out. Swells further. Forces him open. II's slick inside of Ivy's hole eases the burn. The strain. His Alpha howls in blind pleasure. Brokenly sobbing from pleasure as II's pretty cock spills against his own. Warm cum filling II's hands, dragging slowly against them both.
Vessel spills inside him with a broken groan, burying his face against Ivy’s neck. Teeth sinking into his swollen scent gland. Fangs perfectly reopening their previous, healing marks. Ivy moans silently. Completely gone with pleasure. Vessel's arms wrap tightly around the Guardian’s chest, pulling him close. Holding him there. Knot secure. Filling him entirely.
“I love you so much,” Vessel whispers raggedly against his throat. “My Guardian. My Ivy. My mate.”
“Gods, Ivy,” II murmurs, eyes glassy as he presses a kiss to Ivy’s temple. “You did so good for Vessel. For us.”
Ivy whimpers again. He doesn’t know how he finds the strength to speak.
But he does.
“I love you too," he whispers softly, smiling as his body goes slack between Vessel and II. Vessel holds a majority of the weight. His strong arms hold them partially aloft, preventing them from crushing II beneath them.
The knot locks.
And Ivy floats.
His body still trembles, twitching faintly with each pulsing throb of Vessel’s cock inside him. But his mind drifts. Unmoored. Weightless. Safe. It feels like drowning in warmth. In Vessel's boundless sea. Like being pulled under silk as II and III's soft hands hold him together. Voices become muffled. Fingers blurred. Time is irrelevant.
All he knows is touch.
The strong arms locked around his waist. The shallow pants against his throat as Vessel kisses his bleeding skin. The dull ache of fullness. His Alpha hums low in his chest. Soothed. Curling like a cat beneath a sunbeam. Sated. Whole once again. No longer the wounded thing it once was.
He feels II’s hands before he hears his little mate's words. Gentle fingers brush the hair from his sweaty brow. Soft lips pressing to the space beneath his eye. A quiet hush of breath against his cheek.
“You’re okay,” II whispers quietly. Sniffling softly. Ivy can feel his awe. His devotion. His love. His gratitude. It brings a wide, lazy smile to his face. “You’re safe.”
Vessel doesn't speak. He noses at Ivy’s throat, scenting deeply. Breathing him in like he needs amber and sun-warmed leather to survive. His fangs graze Ivy’s swollen scent gland, but he doesn’t bite through the split skin again. He merely nips. Brushes. Kisses.
Teasingly. Promisingly. Worshipfully.
Ivy moans quietly. Too tired to move. Too high in the aftermath of bliss to process it beyond the bloom of comfort and fullness that blossoms between them.
III strokes a hand down Ivy’s arm. Fingers tracing the ridges of muscle and bone beneath sweat-sticky skin. His touch is grounding. Steady. Ivy’s fingers twitch to meet his, and III squeezes once. Soft. Shaky. The smell of hearth smoke rises, curling in his nostrils as it greets him.
“You did... so well, love,” III murmurs against his shoulder. “You took him. You... really took him."
Ivy can’t form the words to reply. He merely sighs. Utterly surrendered. Melting between their bodies. Leaning into their touches. Letting his demeanor say everything he needs to without words.
They stay like that for a long moment. Breathing as one. The room smells like home and sex. Pack bonding. Tentative healing. Love beyond the lingering swells of hurt and pain. Comfort beneath illness. Reassurance above worries. II still lies beneath him, drowsy but sweet. Painfully so. Stroking small circles into Ivy’s back. Soft breathy praise escaping his pretty, pink lips. Vessel is locked to him, panting into his skin. Cum still pumping steadily into him. Every bit as abundant as II had teasingly claimed it to be, III is the only one still fully present. Eyes clear, expression soft.
When the knot finally begins to deflate, Ivy doesn’t notice at first. It’s Vessel who shifts gently. Who kisses between Ivy’s trembling shoulder blades and breathes the words against his skin.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
Vessel slowly, carefully slips free.
Ivy shudders at the release. At the trickle of cum down his thighs. But no one moves away. III slides closer to catch him when he starts to sway. II’s arms tighten around him and hold him closer to his chest. And Vessel… Vessel only kisses the top of his spine, hands never leaving his body. Still holding him close. Still holding him aloft.
“You okay, sweetheart?” III asks softly, brushing hair away from Ivy’s flushed face. “Still with us?”
“Mhm," Ivy hums. It’s barely a sound. His lashes flutter. His vision blurry from the white-out of pleasure. “Tired. But… good.”
III smiles. Kisses his cheek. Lips pillow soft where they land, grazing against the stubble on his skin.
“I’m gonna go run you a bath. All three of you,” III murmurs, blue-green eyes scanning over their tangled bodies and limbs. “You all need it.”
“Don’t… don’t bother,” Ivy mumbles, still floating. “Don't want to move."
"You'll sleep better when you're clean," III insists, chuckling fondly. "Gonna need to replace the bathroom door this week, Vess."
"Hm," Vessel grumbles, the sound noncommittal.
Ivy flushes, suddenly wondering how effortlessly Vessel must have broken the door down. Snap the locks. There were no bruises on Vessel's skin to show for his display of strength. Ivy's spent cock kicks from that knowledge. His Alpha doesn't respond to the fleeting lust. Exhausted. Spent. Taken. Claimed. Everything Ivy shouldn't be. Everything another Alpha shouldn't be. But his Alpha does not complain. Ivy himself feels nothing but contentment. Floating. Elated. Sleepy. Loved.
III presses another kiss to Ivy’s shoulder, then one to II’s brow. The Empath hesitates only slightly before reaching out and touching Vessel’s forearm.
“You did good Vess,” III says, voice low. Unshakable. Calm. Everything it was when Ivy first met III. First clocked him as a Beta. Was surprised to find out he was wrong. Something about that unsettles him. Unnerves him. But III's smile is dripping with fondness all the same. “He’s okay. You didn’t hurt him.”
Vessel meets III's gaze, eyes wild but clearing.
"Thank you,” the Dominant Alpha murmurs.
III nods once and removes himself from the bed. Leaving the tangle of their bodies behind as he pads toward the destroyed bathroom doorway. Ivy watches him go with heavy eyes, the warm weight of Vessel behind him and the soft rise and fall of II’s chest beneath him.
He sighs softly, relaxing into them. Allowing himself to breathe. To calm down. To be held. Something that soothes a part of himself that's still raw and hurting. They hold him close. Scenting him. Loving him.
The warmth lingers. A breathless stillness before their bodies unravel.
Ivy barely registers when Vessel fully withdraws. Doesn’t move when II exhales a soft, sleepy sound beneath him. He feels too boneless. Too safe. His body goes slack. Hips sore. Inner thighs sticky with drying cum. But he wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything.
And then, without warning, II’s scent changes.
From sweet, but fading, to saccharine but alert.
Ivy barely blinks before II flinches beneath him. II's body goes rigid, sharp breath escaping his sore throat.
“What's wrong?” Ivy starts, but II is already pushing up. Scrambling out from under him with shaking hands.
Vessel is even faster.
His body jolts upright. He stares toward the bused down doorway, head cocked like he’s heard something that no one else did. Then Vessel is off the bed. Not even pausing to dress. Simply moving. Snarling under his breath.
“Something’s wrong with III,” II whispers hoarsely, barely steady on his feet as he stumbles after Vessel.
Ivy blinks, stunned.
"What do you mean?" He calls after them, forcing his sore body to move.
He receives no answer.
Just the sound of II’s unsteady footfall and Vessel’s growl echoing throughout the bedroom.
Ivy curses. Forcing himself upright. His knees nearly buckle from the soreness. His hole aches. Raw and stretched. But he grits his teeth and stumbles after them, limbs shaking with effort. Cum runs down his leg, mingled with II's slick and his own sweat. He'll clean it later if it drips on the floor. Can't think about it now as he staggers after them. Alpha alert. Heart racing. Only III fills his mind now, eclipsing every other thought.
He follows the sound of running water into the space left vacant by the absence of the bathroom door. The wood is still cracked from when Vessel broke it off its hinges to reach him, and the sharp edge catches Ivy’s hip as he slips inside. It digs into his bare skin.
It doesn't matter.
Not when he hears it.
III's muffled sobbing.
What he sees freezes him, rooting him in place.
III is crouched by the tub. Hot water flows from the faucet. Steam curls into the air. But III’s arms are braced on the porcelain edge. Shoulders heaving. Forehead pressed to his hands as he cries. Openly. Raggedly. Like a dam has finally burst.
Vessel kneels beside III. His eyes are wide with panic as he reaches outward, soothing their trembling mate. Scent punctuating the air. Smothering III's dwindling flames with cold rain. A balm to soothe the burn. To ease the sting. To ground him.
II is at his side, his hand on Vessel’s back, but his own face is pale. Stricken. His eyes watery as he fights off a fresh wave of tears.
Ivy swallows thickly.
"III?” he croaks, voice rough with exhaustion. Trembling with concern. From strain.
III chokes on a muffled sob.
“I’m fine,” III lies instantly. Shaking his head between his hands. Shoulders heaving.
“You’re not,” II whispers in disagreement. Settling on his knees. Sniffling as he reaches for III's bouncing knees. Holding them in his hand as the Empath sucks in a deep breath.
“Don’t... don’t do that. Don’t comfort me,” III says, voice shaking. “I’m the one who’s supposed to... do that. Keep us all... keep us all on...” III laughs humorlessly. Head still shaking. Voice broken and cracked as Ivy stumbles closer before collapsing next to II. His knees hit the tile floor. He winces. Pain radiating up his backside as III's cries grow louder in his hands. "What... what is wrong with me? Why... why can't I do it? I... can't help at all. I feel so... so useless."
Vessel’s head drops. He presses his hand to the small of III’s back. II sniffles louder then. Tears flowing down his flushed cheeks. Ivy's own expression falls. Shifting from the pain his body feels to the pain of hearing III call himself useless. As if he was anything but the most grounded one of them all. The most caring. The most attentive. The most in-tune with what was happening amongst them.
As if that wasn't exactly the problem all along. As if that wasn't more weight than one person could carry.
Ivy can't feel his pain, not in the way that II and Vessel can. But he can feel it all the same. Sense it. Feel it as it rips his heart asunder, tearing it in two.
“You do help me,” Vessel growls, low and hoarse. "You help me more than I can ever tell you, my beloved."
“No I don’t,” III snaps, voice breaking. “Not the way you need. Not during your rut. I’ve... never been able to. Not even once. I can’t... I just can't. My body doesn’t take you, Vessel. Not your knot. Not like... not like they can.”
He sobs again.
It’s ugly. It’s loud. It’s real. It's anything but jealous. Anything but selfish. It's devastated. Gutted. Heartbroken. Agonizing.
“I’ve failed you,” III says, curling in tighter. “For six fucking years. I’ve never been able to give you that part of me.”
Ivy feels like the floor drops out beneath him.
II’s breath hitches beside Vessel. But it’s Vessel who finally surges forward.
“No,” he growls, arms wrapping around III from behind. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t ever say that. Do you hear me?”
“I have to say it,” III cries, sobbing harder as Vessel buries his nose in III's scent gland. Scenting him. Trying to soothe. “Because I feel it every time we have sex. Especially when you're in rut and there's... nothing I can do for you. I should be able to help you, Vessel. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. You're my... my mate. My Alpha, too.”
Vessel kisses the back of his neck. Over and over. Rubs his own neck against III's until the bassist shudders.
“You do help me,” Vessel says fiercely. “You ground me. You know me better than even I do, III. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t care if you never take my knot. I never want to force that on you. I never have.”
III finally raises his head. Golden hair catching the warm bathroom light. Shimmering through the haze of steam as it rises from the tub.
His beautiful eyes are bloodshot. His usually pale cheeks are blotchy. He tips his head back into Vessel's hold. Stares up at Vessel with more vulnerability than Ivy’s ever seen from anyone, especially III.
“I wanted to,” III whispers. “I still want to. I just… I can’t. And I hate myself for it. I'm sorry. Being an Empath is... draining. I try not to complain. I really do.”
Ivy's heart sinks. II's bond radiates with pure sadness as the little Omega leans backward. Ivy catches him with his arms. Noses into II's neck. Kissing away the tears that slide down his cheeks and linger on his jawline.
Vessel cups III's face in both hands.
“Look at me and listen to me, III,” he demands, forehead touching III’s. “You’re everything to me. I love you more than life itself. Don't you ever say that you hate yourself again. Do you understand me?”
III closes his eyes, nodding slowly as Vessel kisses III's swollen, reddened lips. A remnant of their time spent between Vessel and II's legs.
“You are not a failure,” II whispers, voice hoarse. Rough and lower than Ivy's ever heard it. “You’re our glue. You can call me pack glue all you want, III. But you're the one who actually holds us all together."
Ivy reaches outward with one hand, encircling II with the other arms. He presses his hand to III’s knee alongside II's fingers, rubbing it gently.
"I love you, III," Ivy says sincerely. "You... have an impossible task. One you didn't ask for. I'm sorry I don't know what it's like for you. But... maybe you can talk to me about it from now on? I'd... I would like to know how I can help you. I don't want you to be upset. Especially not over this. It's... instinct, III." He pauses, recalling III's words when he arrived there. To their home. He smiles as he repeats them. "We don't apologize for our instincts. Not in this pack. Not in this household. Remember?"
III lets out a broken breath, and then leans forward into his and II's waiting arms. Vessel goes down with him, arms still snaked around III's neck. Lips still whispering promises and reassurances into his skin. II all but climbs into III's lap. Ivy, sorely but with a smile, leans into them back.
Steam rises around them.
The bath threatens to overflow, but no one moves to stop it.
They stay there, clinging to each other on the tile floor, until the tears slow and the air grows thick with forgiveness. With love.
The broken pieces begin to mend. Slowly. Steadily. And this time, stronger.
Eventually, Vessel breaks the silence.
"Bath time," he declares, shifting on the floor. II leans backward, pressing into Ivy's chest as III looks up. The Empath wipes his eyes, ridding them of the last of his tears. Vessel turns off the water faucet, checking the temperature before he smiles. "Come here, my gorgeous mate."
Ivy smiles as Vessel leans down, securing III in his arms as the bassist laughs softly. Allowing Vessel to lift him without complaint. A genuine grin forms on III's lips as Vessel carefully lowers him down into the tub. III groans softly, head lulling back against the porcelain rim as his body is submerged. Water splashes over the edges. Something II crinkles his nose at, but before either of them can say a word, Vessel leans down again. Ivy bristles on instinct as he's lifted from the ground. Laughs a moment later as pain shoots up his backside. Vessel offers him a proud, wolfish grin in response.
III's arms catch him when Vessel lowers him down. The water is warm. Soothing. Eats away at the sweat and fluid that soaks his skin. He tries not to think about how dirty the water becomes the moment he's lowered into it. They can shower later. All he focuses on instead is III's arms around him. The sound of the Empath's heartbeat as Ivy lowers his head to III's chest. He wraps his arms around III's. Leans completely back against him. Melts into the familiar feeling of being sheltered in III's steady embrace as III noses into his neck. Scenting him right over his scar.
"Thank you, sweetheart," III grumbles into his ear. Ivy smiles so wide his gums ache. "I love you, Ivy."
"I love you too," Ivy replies immediately, head lulling further against III's lithe, but defined, chest.
"Come here, II," Vessel calls. Scooting the stool to the edge of the tub behind III before reaching down for their little mate. II rolls his pretty eyes, bleary as they are, as Vessel lifts him. But the Omega doesn't complain as Vessel takes a seat on the stool, securing II in his lap. Sitting face to face. Ivy watches their movements with an inclination of his head, upside down as they are from his perspective.
Vessel leans forward, reaching for the nearby cup beside the tub, but II stops him. Ivy turns his head completely then, peering over III's shoulder further as II rises. Ivy chews on his bottom lip. Watches in silence and awe as II lowers himself slowly onto Vessel's leaking cock, taking him down to the base of his knot in one skillful motion. Vessel growls, a sound caught between instinct and a groan of pleasure as II wraps his arms around the Dominant Alpha's neck.
"Don't move," II warns him, voice strained as he leans into the crook of Vessel's neck. Nuzzling him. Scenting him. Vessel chuckles, reaching for the cup with his free hand.
"Going to get water on the floor, but..." Vessel trails off, dunking the cup around them in the tub before pouring the water over III's hair. III moans softly. Eyes flying open, clearly not expecting the returning of his favorite favor. Something III does because it feels good for his mates. And because it feels good for him by proxy. Ivy smiles. Strokes III's hands in a way he hopes feels nice as Vessel dutifully washes and massages III's hair with one hand, holding II in place with the other.
"Feels... nice," III says quietly, voice cracking. Ivy knows he's crying again, can hear the bassist's tears, but he merely continues his task. Pressing a little harder. Going a little slower. Doing his best to allow III to feel something good. Something that makes III happy. Makes Vessel happy. Makes II happy. Makes Ivy happy, too.
"You deserve far more than this," Vessel says, voice pitched low as III leans back further against the rim of the tub. Ivy feels his bond with II flicker, knows that the little Omega is dosing off as Vessel shifts on the stool and steadies himself further. "Tomorrow, if my rut is finally over, how about I take the three of you out? III can get a much needed break, maybe a nice couple's massage. II can buy whatever bedding he wants. And we can help Ivy pick out some new clothes. How does that sound, loves?"
"Perfect," III sniffles as II softly hums before falling silent, having drifted off to sleep.
Ivy doesn't disagree. Doesn't complain. Wouldn't even if he wanted to.
III's hands are warm in his. He knows without reassurance that III is happy. That they all are.
For him, that's more than enough.
Notes:
The next chapter marks the end of Act 2! For the Final Act, our journey begins in another country, on a very well awaited tour. What happens then... well, I hope you all are ready for what I have in store. ;)
Chapter 19: London
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Fluff. World building bits. Did I mention fluff?
6.8k words and the end of Act 2!
Notes:
Hello!
Before we begin, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be banging my head against my laptop trying to edit. You're a life saver! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! It's been a lot of fun getting to know you all. <3
I've responded to a ton of comments the past few days. Ao3 has put a cap on how many comments I can respond to daily. I've hit that twice over now. I cannot begin to thank you all enough for the incredible support on this fic. You guys are so lovely. <3
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Relaxing.
Ivy can't remember the last time he's felt so at ease. He slouches deeper against the massage table as the masseuse's fingers dig expertly into his skin. Vessel chuckles opposite of him, and when Ivy raises his head, he quickly sees why. III is in absolute bliss. Eyes fluttering. Smile wide and gleaming. Hands trembling as the Empath's own masseuse works away the tension in his neck. Ivy knows his own massage feels like heaven. Can hardly imagine how III must feel. He smiles as the masseuse allows him to sit up, working away knots in his shoulders as Vessel lies down on his back and lets out a pleased sigh.
"How are you doing, II?" III breathes out softly, smiling still.
"Half asleep," II grumbles beneath his face mask, head lulling backward as he curls up with the heated blanket he had been offered. "Are you relaxed enough?"
"I'm in heaven," III sings off-key, earning a snort from Ivy and Vessel. II creaks open a tired eye. "Feels nice, but... feeling how nice my mates feel makes it even nicer."
"You deserve every bit of this," Vessel tells the Empath. Even turned away, Ivy can hear the smile in Vessel’s voice. "We should make this a monthly tradition when we're not traveling."
"We offer year long packages you might be interested in," Vessel's masseuse, a meek Beta woman offers. Her voice is quiet and thoughtful. "If you were to buy four, I'm sure that Anna at the front desk could give you a discount."
"That would be lovely," III hums excitedly, seemingly already knowing that Vessel would be agreeable.
"Where to after this?" Ivy asks, groaning softly as his shoulder pops and the tension in his neck lessens. His masseuse bids him to lie back down. Ivy complies without complaint. He settles against the massage table and closes his eyes. Basking in the feeling of knots being worked out of his hands and upper arms.
"Buying you clothes," Vessel replies, voice lilting. "Whatever you want. My treat."
"You're spoiling us today," III laughs. Bright. Happy. Crystalline. The sound sends a jolt through II’s bond.
II hisses, clearly perturbed at being awoken from his nap.
Ivy laughs softly as Vessel's chuckle fills the otherwise quiet of the room.
"Get used to it," Vessel tells them. "I should have been doing this from the start."
"You've done plenty for us," II replies, calming scent flaring. Harmony reaching out. Ivy snorts as their little mate chuckles. He doesn't need to ask to know that Vessel took II's offer. "Now shut up so I can take a nap. Someone didn't let me sleep very much."
The masseuses snicker as III barks out a sharp laugh. Ivy himself laughs alongside them as he allows himself to relax, breathing in the comforting air. Smiling because it feels nice. Because III’s happiness makes it even better. Because even though things weren't perfect, and even though they still had things to discuss, everyone was trying their best. Helping each other. Making it work. Being considerate. Being kind.
Being everything that they needed and more.
Ivy drifts off to sleep in peaceful bliss, hoping that when he awakens, it is to the sight of a smiling, happy III.
-
The spa lobby is quiet. The room is lit in soft and golden hues of light as the early afternoon sun begins its slow ascent through the tall front windows. Ivy shifts his weight on his feet, trying not to wince. His lower back twinges with another dull ache of pain. Sore in a way that makes him hyper-aware of every minute movement that he makes.
II stands beside him. Arms stretched overhead, hoodie sleeves tugging up his forearms, exposing pale skin. He yawns, his jaw cracking.
“That massage turned me into jelly,” II mumbles, blinking sleepily. His voice is less strained than it was the day prior. Still a bit scratchy. But Ivy doesn't feel any distress in their bond. Ivy smiles, reaching for his mate's hand. II takes it instantly. Ivy holds the door for him with his free arm as they depart the lobby and step out into the nearby shopping district. III and Vessel remain inside the spa. Opting to stay a while longer with the promise of joining them later.
II yawns again, lavender wafting.
“I feel like I could sleep for a month straight,” the little Omega mumbles.
“You already were asleep,” Ivy mutters, breath catching slightly as he adjusts his stride. He grimaces. II snickers, squeezing his hand tighter. “Half the time the masseuse just brought you warmer blankets.”
“She knew better than to wake me up,” II says, deadpan. Then smirks. “I needed that nap, honestly. Vessel’s rut was exhausting."
Ivy doesn't interject. Doesn't point out the damage Fore laid to waste in his little mate's body. Only brushes his thumb over II's soft hand and offers him a tired smile.
“Maybe I should have tried sooner and let you sleep,” Ivy grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You wanted it that badly, huh?" II chuckles, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "On a serious note, thank you. For doing that for me and for Ve. III... might need some time to come to terms with it. But maybe this will be the thing that makes him want to try again." II pauses, humming thoughtfully. "Vessel is scared to death of hurting III, though. He never has when they've tried in the past. But he's... gotten frustrated. Ruts have a way of doing that to Alphas though, don't they?"
“I'm a mess of sweat and misery when mine hits," Ivy concurs, nodding his head. "Usually tough it out, though. Suppressants help. I feel bad that Vessel can't use them."
"Don't feel too bad for him," II snorts. Rolls his pretty eyes. No longer red-rimmed. No longer bloodshot. Familiar. And pretty. The color of the sky. Lavender curls with fondness. Ivy finds his own scent lightening, too. "Vessel behaved this time, honestly. He enjoys his rut. Maybe it's an Alpha thing, or maybe it’s a Dominant Alpha thing. It's definitely a Vessel thing. But usually he won't shut up about knocking me up."
Ivy chokes. Laughs so hard he sees stars as II snickers beside him.
"I think we should probably change the topic though," II suggests. Voice light and airy. "Gonna traumatize anyone who passes by us otherwise."
"You're right," Ivy snickers. Scent coiling around them denser as the streets go from sparsely dotted to packed. The sun is warm. The day a little on the hotter side. But II pulls down his sweatshirt sleeves as they round the corner at the end of the street, heading towards a diner. "You okay, II?"
II hums softly, leaning into his side.
It's then that Ivy remembers something about II. Something he's never seen. Something that happened long before Ivy ever met him. Something he's only learned about secondhand.
II used to dislike being away from home. It made him nervous. People made him nervous.
Ivy knows why. It's an impossible thing to deny. The horrible reality and vulnerability of being an Omega of any kind in their society.
He can hardly imagine it. How scared II must have been before Vessel came into his life. His scent sours. II leans further into him. Harmony coils around him. Bristling against the edges of his instinct as his Alpha raises its slumbering head. He takes the offered sense of calm, squeezing II's hand tighter within his own.
"You feel safe with me, right?" Ivy asks, wincing slightly as they walk over the uneven cobblestone.
“You’re my mate. My Guardian Alpha,” II says with a slight snort, but Ivy can sense the slight fraying of his mate’s nerves. His sarcasm. His lingering, residual exhaustion. His nerves. “Of course I feel safe with you, Ivy.”
"I am your mate," Ivy confirms with a knowing lilt. "That's exactly why you should be honest with me, II."
II's expression and bond both flicker with immediate hurt. A remnant of Fore's doing. Of II's own doing, But the drummer recovers quickly.
They walk another few steps before II sighs. Soft. Measured. Punctuated. As if he's letting out just enough steam to keep himself from boiling over. Ivy hates the sound. What it stands for. What it means. They come to a stop two blocks away from the diner.
"I used to hate walking alone in places like this,” II says, voice lower now. Not quite whispering. But the sound is almost entirely drowned out by the bustling crowd. If they weren't mated, Ivy wouldn't even be able to smell II's scent. Weak as it is as II tuts and shakes his head. “I’d always get followed. Stared at. Never really... stopped being afraid of it. Of people. Of what they could do to me."
Ivy doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. He pulls II forward. Guides his little mate closer to the edge of the sidewalk, positioning himself on the street side like some outdated romance novel Alpha. III would find it sweet. Vessel would likely giggle. But II merely rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t pull away. Doesn't complain.
Instead, he smiles. Small. Tired. Genuine. The same beautiful smile Ivy's been in love with from the get go.
“But I don’t worry about that anymore,” II murmurs, casting him a glance that’s softer than his words. “Not when you’re here. Not when I’ve got you and Ve and III.”
He sounds so sure of it. And that shouldn’t make Ivy’s stomach twist like it does. But it does.
Because II shouldn’t have needed someone to keep him safe just to feel okay being outside.
Because he does need it.
And Ivy hates the world for that.
But he still smiles. Calms his scent. Meets II's sidelong gaze as they approach their destination.
“We’ve got you, II,” Ivy says. Simple. Direct. Absolute.
“I know that," II exhales the words as easily as he breathes. Completely confident. Trusting. Scent sweeter.
Ivy ushers him inside their destination.
The diner is loud. Packed. Lined with cracked vinyl booths and smeared glass windows. The smell of grease and fresh coffee drowns out all other scents. It feels like any other diner. A little run down for the part of town it's in. But familiar in the way every late-night meal after a show usually was. Ivy realizes he's never visited one before when the sun was still up as they sit across from each other in a back booth. Far from the clatter of the register. II orders two plates of chips and a milkshake that arrives swimming in whipped cream. Ivy sticks with black coffee and steals fries, much to II's chagrin.
They eat in easy silence. Tired silence. Comfortable.
“I’m still so sore,” II mutters, half into his milkshake straw. “Like, my back hurts. My hips hurt. Even sitting hurts. Vessel’s knot should be classified as a weapon. I don't understand how you're still in one piece.”
“Hardly in one piece,” Ivy laughs, wagging a fry between them. II snorts. “Whatever happened to not discussing this in public? We’re going to give the old nans a heart attack, love.”
“Well, I just remembered something,” II tells him, sighing as he sets his milkshake aside. “Remind me when Vessel and III meet back up with us that I need Ve to take me to the pharmacy.”
II’s scent sours at his own utterance. Wilted lavender. Curdling, scorched vanilla. Forgotten honey.
“What for?” Ivy asks, frowning. II reaches for a fry. Dunks it in his ice cream. Not making eye contact. Avoiding Ivy’s gaze. Shoulders sagging. Ivy reaches for his hand. II hesitantly takes it.
“Contraceptives,” II says under his breath. “I’m out. The pharmacy won’t give them to me unless Vessel is with me because he signed my paperwork for them in the first place. They won’t even let III pick them up for me. Vessel’s tried giving permission to us both. It makes no difference.”
Amber rises. The sun scorches Ivy’s leather. He grits his teeth.
“That’s bullshit,” Ivy grumbles, Alpha snarling through his teeth.
II wags a fry in the air. Chocolate ice cream splatters the table. The little Omega meets his gaze then. Eyes resigned. Distant. There’s a smile on II’s lips. It isn’t a happy one. His tiny fangs glint in the light as his lips part to speak. Ivy can’t bring himself to return it.
“That’s the way it is,” II says with a slight shrug. Hoodie dipping low enough to show off the claims upon his neck. All three of them. Ivy hates that it should look like a deterrent. Hates even more that it isn’t. “It’s not Ve’s fault I ran out. We’ve been a bit distracted. I’m sure he’ll make it up to me.”
Ivy swallows his anger, forcing himself to smile.
It feels hollow. Looks hollow. But II doesn’t bring it up.
“Oh, yeah? How so?” He asks instead, burying his ire. Drowning in II’s pale blues. Watching them fill with mirth as a smirk crosses the little Omega’s lips.
“Usually he eats me out,” II grins, voice just low enough to not be heard by anyone else.
Ivy chokes on his coffee as II cackles, reaching for another fry.
-
Vessel exits the corner store with a bag in his hand, handing it over to II without any fanfare.
Ivy can see the war of emotions in the Dominant Alpha’s eyes. The anger at the world around them. His love for II. His Alpha’s disappointment at the act itself.
Yet, as II pops open the bottle within the bag and hurriedly places two pills in his mouth, no one says a word. III merely hands over his water bottle. II takes it with a grunt, chugging from the mouthpiece a moment later before he stuffs the bottle into his pocket.
“Now that that shit is out of the way, and III’s bones are made of jelly, is it time to go shopping for Ivy?” II asks with a lilt. He plants himself by Vessel. Doesn’t object when Vessel reels him in, tucking him into his embrace. Ivy watches the movement of Vessel’s hands. Isn’t surprised when they land on II’s stomach, sliding into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie. Ivy knows by now not to bring it up. To never bring it up.
II indulges him, as he so often does.
It’s only now that Ivy can feel the sadness in II’s bond as the little Omega’s head rolls back into Vessel’s chest.
No one brings that up either.
“Time for me to spoil Ivy," Vessel confirms with a smile. Wolfish fangs glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Oceanic scent curling. Ivy wishes he could discern how Vessel feels. Finds it impossible when his scent swells like that but his eyes remain locked in an endless battle. His emotions continue to war against himself. His instinct winning the losing battle. "Then, I'm taking you shopping next, my love."
"I don't need anything," Ivy lies with a hiss. Embarrassed. Alpha grumbling. Remembering how little he has. How little he owns. How what little he did possess paled in comparison to the magnitude and quality of what his mates possessed. He tries to remind himself that it means nothing. That it doesn't make him any less. Doesn't make him inadequate. Not enough. But it, too, is a losing battle.
"That thing you're doing, stop that." II snaps, lowering his voice. Ivy blinks. Reminds himself that while he can't feel all of them, they can all feel him. He buries his own lingering doubts further. Hoping that if he buries them deep enough, they can't reach out for them. “You’re not a burden. You’re not taking advantage. You’re Vessel's mate. Our mate. You think I let him buy me things because I need them?”
Ivy swallows thickly. Shoulders shrugging. He sighs beneath his breath.
“I let him do it because it makes him happy,” II continues. “Because it’s one of the few ways he knows how to say I love you without choking on it. For a man who writes beautiful metaphors for a living, Vessel has always struggled to express himself with words. He prefers actions. So, let him love you. In his weird, capitalist way.”
Ivy huffs a quiet laugh. Doesn’t quite lift his eyes from where they've drifted to the cobblestone beneath their feet. III's arm snakes around his shoulders. Pulling him in close. Holding him there. Ivy relaxes against him. III's side is warmed by the sun. Even warmer from the Empath's own body heat. Ivy sweats under his worn leather coat, but he doesn't pull away. He only leans further into him. Breathing in the calming scent of fire. The smell of freshly chopped trees. III smells relaxed.
He breathes in. Then out. Intends to keep III feeling that way.
"All right, fine," Ivy concedes as he raises his gaze. He flashes II and Vessel a grin. Feels it turn genuine on his lips as Vessel returns it wholeheartedly. II's knowing look fades quickly into smugness. "Any suggestions?"
"There's a shop down the way I think you'd enjoy," III says, squeezing his shoulders tighter. "Their specialty is leather goods."
Ivy pulls a face, raising a brow.
"Not a sex thing, love," III giggles. The sound forces a laugh out of Ivy as he turns his head into III's chest. Ivy smiles against the fabric of III's shirt, basking in the heavenly sound as it shakes his chest. His cheeks warm with affection as the bassist pulls him in closer. "They sell custom battle jackets. Wallets. Keychains. That sort of flair."
"A battle jacket would work well with the new masks we're having designed," Vessel's deep voice rumbles. "We could pick up some stagewear and shop for the basics afterward."
"Works for me. Anything to keep me away from another department store," II responds with a chuckle. Vessel makes a sound. A huffed out noise. II clicks his tongue. "Don't start with me today, Vessel. I don't need another three hundred dollar blanket to know that you love me."
"I just want to give you everything I have," Vessel says the words simply, but Ivy can hear the remnants of the Dominant Alpha's emotional war in his tone.
He knows it isn't easy for Vessel. Denying his Alpha something. Many somethings in one day. But hearing Vessel's voice almost crack sends a fresh wave of hurt down the bond Ivy shares with II. He isn't sure if the hurt is his mate's, or his own. It hardly makes a difference.
"You've already done that," II sighs softly. Ivy turns his head. Watches II spin in Vessel's arms and reach up for their Alpha's cheeks. Vessel goes down without a fight. Still smiling that same wolfish smile as II pinches his cheeks. Vessel yelps. Heads turn. Expressions morph into shock at the sight. A man so obviously a Dominant Alpha manhandled by his little mate. III laughs so loud that those who pass by them, who didn't notice them before, turn to look at them now. II giggles. The sound is bright and crystalline. Ivy can't help but smile.
"Fine," Vessel grumbles, leaning downward. Ivy watches as their mate nuzzles against II's neck. "I just love you a whole lot."
"Shouldn’t you be clinging to Ivy like a leech right now?" II asks, and Ivy can practically hear the rolling of his pretty, blue eyes. "But I love you too, you big idiot. Now go buy our mate some nice clothes so we can get home. I want to cook III's favorite for dinner tonight."
“You heard the boss,” III snickers, tugging Ivy along. He watches the bassist toss his empty water bottle into a nearby bin, nearly missing the rim. “You’re really cooking for me tonight, little love?”
Ivy’s grin widens. He can hear III’s quickened heartbeat. Practically feel his immense love for their Omega as II hums quietly in confirmation.
“When we’re at the shop, maybe I can buy you something,” Ivy offers. Looks up at III with so much love in his eyes that he can feel it. His own heartbeat picks up. His breath feels caught in his throat. Caged between his ribs. Blue-green eyes meet his. The outside world melts away.
III’s never looked at him like this before.
Not this intensely. Not this comfortably. Not this smitten.
Ivy feels his cheeks warm as he offers III a genuine smile.
“Let’s go then,” Vessel instructs them. Directing them, but not commanding them. Letting II decide the details. Letting III decide the pace. Leaving room for objections.
There aren’t any.
Ivy takes III’s hand with his own and tugs him forward. They fall into step behind Vessel and II. The Dominant Alpha’s arm coils protectively around II’s shoulders as he guides them all forward. III squeezes Ivy’s hand. Reassuring him. Grounding him. Loving him. Ivy squeezes his hand right back.
The walk to the shop is uneventful. By the time they arrive, III excitedly ushers them inside. The shop smells like new leather. Polish. Metal rivets. Ivy grins as III inclines his head. He doesn’t need to ask why the bassist insisted on bringing him here. Only blushes as III lifts an incredibly beautiful leather coat from a nearby rack and shows it off proudly. The shop owner offers them a wave. Offers them assistance. But Ivy’s already made up his mind.
He wants the coat in III’s hands. The one that reminds the bassist of him. The one that makes III’s gorgeous eyes light up. The one that makes his chosen mate smile at him as if Ivy hung the stars themselves.
Leather.
This is his scent and his scent alone. Something distinctly his. Something not marred by the scent of another. Something that doesn’t carry with it unpleasant memories. II’s immense pain. Vessel’s frustration. III’s silent devastation.
Ivy will make sure that his mates never hate the scent of it.
“Find somethin’ that caught yer eye?” The shopkeeper asks. A burly man. His accent Scottish. Thick. His scent surprisingly muted given his stature. A Beta. Ivy finds himself pleasantly surprised as he nods his head, motioning towards the jacket. “That’ll look proper good on ya’. Are you lads interested in some customization? I remember the last time you lot came by.”
“You do?” Vessel inquires. Grip slackening on II. Ivy knows why. They’re the only Alphas in the store. There is no danger here for their littlest mate. Only rows of leather. The outside world sequestered away behind the tinted panes of glass that line the storefront. II mumbles something before padding off. His eye seemingly caught by something. Ivy watches him go. Realizes vaguely that they all do.
“Aye, I do,” the shopkeep says with a huff of laughter. Deep and reverberating. Warm. Ivy’s heart aches. The man reminds him vaguely of Gethin. Of the pub. Of the days behind him now. Homesick. He clears his throat. Lets III lean against him without fuss as the shopkeeper points languidly at Vessel. “You lads are a bit hard to forget. Never met someone like ya’ before. Ya’ made quite the impression.”
Vessel blushes. Laughs a little awkwardly as III hands Ivy the jacket with a charming smile. Beyond pretty. He always is. Always has been.
Ivy slides out of III’s grasp, slipping his old coat off in the process. III takes it wordlessly. Holding it close to his chest as Ivy slides his arms into the new coat. It fits like a glove. Like it was made for him. Sitting on a rack and waiting for him to come by to purchase it.
Well, waiting for Vessel to buy it.
“Think you can do some painting on this one?” Ivy asks the shopkeeper, eying his name tag. Sean. The burly man laughs, nodding his head as he strokes his grey mustache thoughtfully. “You have any references to the masks on you, Vess?”
“Always,” Vessel hums, retrieving his phone from his back pocket. His eyes briefly scan the shop. Ivy catches the moment that Vessel’s gaze falls on II. Feels love blossom in his chest as Vessel visibly relaxes upon spotting their little mate. Vessel unlocks the device. Scrolling for a few moments before he offers the device up to Sean.
Sean puts on a pair of wire rimmed glasses as he takes the phone. Studying the image on screen before he nods his head.
“Ya’ lads ever paint before? I can do it me self, but I’ve been offerin’ to let my customers help with the process,” Sean offers with a shrug as he carefully sets Vessel’s phone down on the shop’s counter. “I’ll provide the materials and give ya’ a place to set up shop. Won’t charge for more than the material costs if ya’ wanna do it yourselves.”
“II’s good with a brush,” III adds. Words that Ivy raises a brow at. Not knowing that information. Vessel hums in agreement. III glances at Ivy, smiling. “He painted Vessel’s old guitar cases. I’ll show you later. But as for the jacket, we can try our best. I’m assuming you’ve got a way to undo it if we fuck up.”
Sean lets out a full body laugh as he removes his glasses. Folding them before he tucks them into his apron.
“That I do. There’s no mistakes I can’t fix,” Sean confirms, nodding his head towards the back of the shop. “I’ll get ya’ lads set up in the back if yer done browsing.”
“Hold on a second,” II calls, emerging from behind a rack. His hands are full of thick straps of leather. Black and neatly crafted. “While we work on the jacket, can you customize these?”
II lays the bracelets down on the counter, waiting patiently as Sean turns the leather around.
“What were you thinking?” Sean inquires with a raised brow.
“Vines for this one,” II informs him, nudging one of the bands closer. Ivy feels his lip twitch upward. Shares a look with III and Vessel as II continues. “Scythes for me. Bats for this one. Swords and flowers for the last.”
“Ya’ have a vision, I see,” Sean chuckles, picking up the bracelets. “Aye, I’ll engrave ‘em after I get you lot set up in the back. Come on back.”
They follow through the winding shop. Passing by the few other patrons until Sean guides them behind a black curtain. They settle in at the table the shopkeeper offers them. Ivy slides the jacket off his shoulders, replacing it with his old one when III hands it off to him. Vessel lies the new coat down between them while II foregoes the chair and leans over the table. He winces slightly. Ivy snorts, feeling his pain as his own backside aches.
Vessel offers them both a smug smirk. II glares at their mate.
“III, kick him under the table for me,” II instructs. Ivy barks out a laugh.
“No can do, little love,” III chuckles, smoothing over the jacket’s leather. “Vess is pampering us today.”
Ivy’s grateful then. Grateful that there’s no shame or embarrassment in III’s eyes. No jealousy. No tears in the Empath’s eyes.
He knows that III still feels it, the lingering sense of disappointment. Of failure. But he’s never seen III so at peace. So relaxed. So… happy.
Ivy knows his assumption is right when II sighs softly and pads around his chair. II wraps his arms around III’s neck, leaning into his back.
“Love you,” II whispers, nuzzling into III’s skin as Sean returns. Paintbrushes in hand. Paint tucked away in his apron. Sean says nothing of the open display of affection. Seemingly doesn’t care. Or seemingly knows better. Vessel eyes the man like a hawk. A silent warning. Unneeded as it is. Ivy remembers well how intimidating the Dominant Alpha’s gaze can be.
Be it Vessel’s eyes blown wide and dilated. Or simmering like boiled sugar, shimmering the color of soft, chewy caramel.
“You’re sweet,” III grumbles back, nuzzling into II with a contented smile. Ivy meets Vessel’s gaze. He watches his mate’s eyes warm as Vessel offers him a lazy grin.
“There ya’ go, lads,” Sean says, dusting his hands off on his apron. “Holler if ya’ need me or fuck up the paint job.”
“Will do,” Vessel chuckles, reaching for a brush before passing it off to Ivy. Vessel retrieves his phone once again, lying it on the table next to the coat. II uncurls from around III’s back and reaches for the paint. Ivy once more catches Vessel’s gaze. Feels his gums ache as he smiles at the loving look that Vessel offers him. “Do you have any ideas in mind?”
“Runes, maybe,” Ivy says as he spins the brush in his fingers. “Elder whatever it’s called.”
“Elder Futhrak,” III snorts, reaching for his own brush. “We can do some runes and leave the detailed work to little love here. If you’re up for the task, II.”
“Let me focus,” II huffs, dipping his brush into the paint before lowering it to the leather. They share a laugh as II confidently brushes a curved line onto the sleeve of the jacket. Ivy watches, mesmerized, as II continues his work.
By the time Vessel finishes converting words into Elder Furthrak using III’s phone, II’s already switched from white paint to red.
“Ready to get to work?” III asks with a charming, pretty smile. Ivy tears his gaze away from II’s talented paintstrokes, meeting III’s affectionate look with one of his own. Amber and sun-warmed leather dance in the space between them. Ivy steadies the brush in his hands.
“Let’s give it a shot,” Ivy answers, dipping his brush into the white.
His strokes are unsteady. His elbow brushes III’s, splattering paint on the table. Ivy thinks of calling for Sean. Decides against it. Splattering his jacket intentionally instead.
-
By the time the paint dries, the engraving is complete.
II says nothing as he takes the small bag offered to him. The one where each bracelet is individually wrapped. Ivy mumbles out a genuine thank you as Sean offers him a larger bag, his coat neatly tucked away inside of it. Vessel smiles, stepping forward and swiping his card before Sean can so much as speak the total aloud.
Ivy blushes as III nudges him, winking.
“Let him spoil you, love,” III reminds him. Eyes glimmering with mirth. With warmth. With sheer and utter love. “Vess has been looking forward to this all morning.”
“We’re not done yet,” II lilts, reaching for III’s hand with his free one. Ivy watches III’s eyes widen upon the contact. As if II’s touch electrified him. II’s bond radiates with fondness. Ivy imagines that III’s would feel the same. “We’ll grab the basic stuff for Ivy in a bit. But first, there’s something I want to do.”
“Finally decide to let me spoil you after all, my love?” Vessel chuckles, leaning down and kissing II’s cheek. Ivy watches pink blossom against II’s skin. A blush steadily forms as II tucks himself closer to III’s side. Vessel snickers, slipping an arm around Ivy’s waist. Squeezing him tight. Ivy doesn’t think as he turns his head upward, seeking a kiss that Vessel gives him. Pillow soft lips brushing against his own.
“Thank you,” Ivy mumbles against them, meaning every word.
“Anything for you,” Vessel whispers right back. Ivy knows that he, too, means every word he says with such conviction. “Where do you want us to go, II?”
“Jewelry store?” II inquires, voice partially muffled by III’s shirt. “Ivy wants to buy III something. Maybe we could start there. I want to buy something, too.”
“Works for me,” Vessel muses, nodding before kissing Ivy’s brow. Ivy blushes, leaning further into him. “You all ready?”
“Ready,” Ivy answers, sharing a glance with III before Vessel leads them to the door.
Ivy walks hand in hand with Vessel. II plastered to III’s side. The streets are still bustling as they duck into a darkly painted jewelry shop on the corner of the busiest intersection. A woman with black hair and spiderwebs for earrings offers them a brilliant smile. She smells like night blooming jasmine and roses. Omega. Her unmarked scent gland shimmers with sparkling shades of white, as if she’s pressed powder to it to highlight its prominence. Ivy doesn’t question why. Doesn’t care to.
“Well, well, look who we have here!” She laughs, her voice surprisingly bright and cheerful as she ducks out from behind the glass counter. “If it isn’t my favorite customer. How were the necklaces, love?”
“Perfect,” II replies, slipping from III’s hold. But not before pushing his bag off to Vessel, who takes it with a laugh.
Certified pack mule.
Ivy remembers when Vessel called himself that. Chuckles as he falls into step beside III, stepping further into the brilliantly lit room. The interior is dark in spite of it. Black velvet in the cases. Black painted walls. Black curtains. Every bit a place that II looks at home in.
“Is that the guy? The handsome one with the dark hair?” The jeweler asks, elbowing II playfully as the drummer flushes. Her dark eyes flicker to II. To his neck. Her smile widens. Red lipstick standing out against her brilliantly white fangs. “Looks like it worked out well for you. I’m happy I could play some small part in that.” Her eyes flit back to Ivy. He meets her gaze with a nod.
“You had him proper smitten,” she tells him. II hisses, but the woman tilts her head back and laughs. “All right, I’ll stop embarrassing him now. Tell me, what brings you boys here today?”
“Murph, can you help III design something for him to wear on stage? Ivy here,” II nods with his head towards him, “wants to get something nice for him.”
“Adorable, and absolutely I can help you boys design something.” Murph answers with another blinding smile. “You gonna peruse the cases, II?”
“Always,” II answers, sticking his hand out. Ivy blinks away shock as Murph hands over the keys to the display cases. As if she’s not at all worried about handing over the literal keys to her kingdom. Not that she should be. But it speaks volumes about their familiarity.
“How’s the Fuck ring I made for you?” Murph asks, looking at Vessel with a raised brow. Vessel laughs as II walks over to a case and quietly unlocks it with clearly practiced ease. Familiar. “You have no idea how much joy that one brought me.”
“It’s held up perfectly, even with the paint on it,” Vessel answers her query. “You’re a master of your craft. Always have been.”
“Damn right I am,” Murph says with a playful wink. Her scent remains neutral. Not flirting then, Ivy notes. Hates that the thought even crossed his mind. Truth be told, he’s not a jealous person. Can’t be. Not when he has three mates of his own. But the idea of someone else flirting with them?
His Alpha grumbles, still discontented. III hugs him closer. Nuzzling into his skin.
“Guardian Alpha,” Vessel says simply. Something Murph whistles appreciatively at. “Don’t take it personally. He’s territorial like I am.”
“And freshly mated by the look of it,” Murph cackles. Ivy growls at that, but it’s an embarrassed sounding thing. Muffled by III’s shirt as the Empath cackles. Once more, Ivy finds himself grateful for the sound. For the way III’s fire scent curls in the air. Radiating joy.
Murph clears her throat.
“Sorry, mate. Meaning no offense. I’ve known these boys for ages,” Murph says as Ivy peels out of III’s hold. Vessel takes his bag with a wink. Kissing his cheek before following after II. “They’re a good lot. You seem a good fit for them, too.”
Ivy doesn’t ask if she’s ever seen them with someone who was a bad fit. Doesn’t want to know whether or not she had. Whether or not she knew Fore. Or if Fore owned a piece of jewelry from her shop. Picked out by II.
Ivy clears his own throat.
“No worries,” he settles on saying, inclining his head towards the nearby counter. He seeks III’s hand. Seizing the Empath’s long fingers with his own. “So, about that design? What were you thinking, III?”
A smile settles on III’s lips, one that eats away at the lingering doubt in Ivy's mind. Grounds him to the present.
“Why don’t you pick something out for me?” III asks, eyes crinkling in the corners.
“Might as well stick with II’s theme, no?” Ivy shrugs, offering his chosen mate a raised brow. “Maybe a ring to wear on stage? A bat with its wings spread out, maybe?”
“Think you can play with something like that on?” Murph questions, looking at III for an answer. Tapping her freshly painted pink nails across the dark tattoo lines drawn on her forearms. III hums for a moment before nodding his head.
“Think it’ll be fine,” III answers, shrugging himself. “You sure you want to buy it for me, love?”
“Not to steal Vessel’s line, or anything. But anything for you,” Ivy offers III a genuine smile. He hopes it's as loving as it feels as it forms across his lips. III’s eyes soften in his gaze. Ivy’s heartbeat quickens as III leans down, brushing their lips together in a kiss that says more than words ever could.
-
There’s a comfortable weight on Ivy’s chest as he tosses the remainder of his cigarette into a nearby drain whilst they all finish piling their bags into the car’s boot.
Ivy’s fingers itch for another smoke, but he buries the need. Shuts the trunk instead before climbing in the backseat. Mulling over his new possessions.
His new leather coat. New shirts. New shoes. New socks. Underwear. A bath robe. Slippers. Things he’s always wanted but never had. Things he’s never thought of owning, but can call his own now. III climbs in beside him. Leaning his weight into Ivy’s side as Vessel turns the car on and II relaxes in the passenger’s seat. II curls into his sole purchase. A sole blanket he swore he didn’t want that Vessel bought him anyway,
Ivy can see why Vessel does it. Does anything just to see II relax a little. Feel at home no matter where they are in the world. No matter how distant and far away they are from the comfort of II’s nest.
Absentmindedly, Ivy reaches for the chain around his neck. For the gold ring that dangles from it. He pulls it through the chain, into his palm. Holding it close as his eyes flicker to III. To where an identical ring rests above his heart.
Something they all share. Something they all received as a gift from II.
A physical symbol of their love. Of their pack. Of them.
“When Murph finishes the ring, you’ll pick it up with me, right?” III mumbles into Ivy’s ear, pressing a kiss to his jawline.
“Of course I will,” Ivy answers, smiling as he presses the gold ring tighter into his palm.
“Looking forward to it,” III chuckles against his skin. Placing kiss after kiss on the stubble on Ivy’s cheek. “Little love is making beef wellington tonight. My favorite. You’re in for a treat.”
“So are you,” II replies sleepily, pulling the expensive duvet around himself. Curling up tighter in the passenger seat. Ivy smiles.
Vessel’s eyes meet Ivy’s in the rearview mirror. Simmering caramel. Rich. Full of love.
“Ready to go home?” Vessel asks, deep voice filling the car’s cabin. The smell of the ocean’s waves fills the car. The smell of rolling hills of lavender, blessed with the honey from a thriving hive. The smoldering hearthflame from III’s scent gland fills his nostrils.
Ivy breathes in deep, smiling as he nods his head. Fingers still gripping the golden band within his palm.
When he speaks, he does so with conviction. He does so with happiness. He does so with a bravado that eats away at what little remains of his lingering doubts.
For in truth, there is nothing for him to doubt at all.
“Yeah. Let’s go home.”
To where II's real nest resides. Where his belongings now join the other's, filling the house's walls. Home with the broken down bathroom door. The one that Vessel wouldn't let stand in his way in his desperation to get to Ivy. The same home where the tub that III had relaxed in resided. The same home that he yearns for now.
The homesickness is a fading, quiet memory. Not quite distant yet. But growing smaller with the passage of time.
He closes his eyes and thinks of home.
He doesn't think of Cardiff.
He thinks of London.
Notes:
Thus, Act 2 comes to a close.
The third and final act for this fic will begin on the next update. I hope to see you all there. Until then, have a wonderful day/night! <3
Chapter 20: Bus Call
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Minor angst. Fluff.
That's all.
6.5k words. Welcome to the third and final act. :)
Notes:
Hello, everyone!
It's finally time for the curtain to rise on the final act. Before we begin, I just want to say a huge thank you to all of you. This fic means a great deal to me and reading your comments has brought me a lot of happiness. Thank you all sincerely for sticking around with this fic and accompanying me on this roller coaster of a story.
As a general note, consider the tags refreshed from the conclusion of Act 2. Everything is on the table once again. No spoilers from me, of course. But please know that this act is by far the one I'm most excited to explore. I hope you enjoy the journey.
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be crying over my docs. Hating my life. Editing my own work is hell. You're incredible! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
As always, take care and enjoy!
Chapter Text
Passport.
Luggage.
A plane ride so long that Ivy's fingers shake as he steps out of the terminal and lights up a much needed smoke. He groans in delight. Brain pleasantly fuzzy from the buzz. II snorts beside him.
“So much for quitting before August,” II comments, pretty eyes simmering with amusement.
“Sorry, love,” Ivy snorts, smoke billowing out of his nostrils.
“The crew is meeting us at the rental spot. We'll pick the buses up here in a few,” Vessel instructs them. His luggage and II's rolling to a halt beside him. III throws an arm around Vessel's shoulders. Flashes them all a dazzling smile.
“Excited to be in America, love?” III asks with a raised brow.
Ivy takes another drag off his smoke, scanning the horizon. It looks no different than any other airport at first glance. Bustling with travelers. Taxi cabs lining the pickup lane. Luggage strewn about, dotting the walkways.
The air smells like diesel. The sun's heat warms his skin, causing sweat to form on his brow beneath his hat. Idly, he scratches the stubble on his face with his free hand. He ashes his smoke. Smiles.
“I never thought I'd make it here,” Ivy says sincerely. “I'm looking forward to seeing what it's all about.”
“The shows come easy,” II hums. Tired Harmony coils in the air. Lazily soothing what lingers of Ivy's nerves as his little mate leans into his side. Ivy grits his smoke between his teeth. “It's the sight seeing part that's up in the air.”
“You know we always make time for fun, little love,” III laughs with a wink. “But first, it's time for a long drive.”
“Can we stop by a petrol station before we head for the bus?” Ivy inquires, cigarette bobbing between his teeth. “I want to grab some more smokes.”
“We always make a snack run before we board,” Vessel smiles. Charming. Wolfish. The salt of the sea curling around him. It lingers pleasantly in the air between them. “You'll get to try all sorts of new things, I suppose. III is our resident snack guru on the road.”
“Oh, I remember,” Ivy laughs. He remembers the park. Running with Vessel around the pond. II perching on his back as he did push-ups. He smiles at the fondness of the memory. Wonders how many more pleasant memories they'll make this time.
“A fully sold out tour,” III lilts, squeezing Vessel’s shoulders tighter. Grinning. Eyes crinkling in the corners. Blue-green seas swelling with pride. “I can hardly believe we've made it this far. You and II have really made something beautiful out of all this, you know?”
“It's a group effort,” Vessel responds with a wolfish smile. Fangs glinting in the mid-afternoon sun. Ivy discards his smoke in the nearby disposal bin. Lights another as II clicks his tongue. He coughs once. Reminds himself to drink water as he clears his throat and breathes through it. “The performances would be meaningless without you and Ivy.”
“Can you all stop being so sappy? We just got here,” II playfully scolds them. Leaning further into Ivy's side. Ivy pulls him closer. Breathes him in. Feels happiness and contentment radiating through the bond. Relief.
Ivy knows II feels his, too.
It took time. Consideration for each other. A plethora of conversations and even more time spent beside one another for the wounds Fore left to mend. There would always be a scar in his absence. A reminder of what could have been but never was.
A reminder of how close Ivy came to never becoming IV at all.
But time heals. People grow. Change. Ivy knows he certainly has. Knows his mates have changed, too.
It takes II pulling his fingers, guiding him away from where they stand, to pull him from his reverie. He seizes his luggage. Perches his fresh smoke between his lips. Smiles at his mates as II tugs him along.
Vessel and III walk hand in hand before them. Each pulling suitcases. Each carrying one of II's bags. They look happy. Peaceful. Excited for what's to come.
He wishes he could feel them, as he so often does.
But he knows that they feel him, and reminds himself that that is enough.
That he is enough.
III glances over his shoulder, fire scent carrying on the breeze. There's once more that unshakable calm over him. An ease that used to unsettle Ivy that he so often takes comfort in now.
III grins and Ivy's heart skips a beat.
“You coming or what?” III calls, grinning wider. Showing off his dazzling charm. Saying words that are familiar. Words that Ivy's heard before. Words that remind him that he's exactly where he's supposed to be.
With them. Following. Something he never saw himself doing.
Permanence was earned.
But Ivy knows that he's earned it.
“Coming,” he answers III's question, tugging II along with him as they walk together into the warming sun.
-
It’s late by the time they hit the road, heading for Chicago.
Ivy all but collapses onto the tour bus’s couch. His knees pop louder than usual as he sinks into the couch. He winces, not expecting the ache. All of his limbs feel heavy in a way they shouldn’t. Travel fatigue, maybe. He chalks it up to jet lag. Knows he’ll sleep like the dead by the time the nest is made. Finds himself looking forward to that more than the food that’s been stuffed into every nook and cranny in the kitchenette.
The couch he rests on is far more comfortable than the last. Larger. Plusher. A special request made by Vessel. It’s far from the Dominant Alpha’s only instructions for their label.
In place of the row of bunks down the aisles, there’s more furniture. More couches. A wardrobe placed on either side. One for III’s intricate outfits and Ivy’s personalized battle jacket. The other filled to the brim with expensive, impossibly soft linens for II’s use and comfort. There’s sketchpads and pencils on the bar meant for II. A gaming console by the television for Vessel and III to share. Ivy’s first guitar and the sheet music for his former band securely tucked beside II’s wardrobe.
Ivy smiles to himself. Wonders how annoyed their label must have been adhering to Vessel’s strict instructions.
Reminds himself to thank his mate for it in either case.
II pads by him, arms full of linen and a glint of determination in his eyes. Ivy chuckles, reaching out to playfully swat at II’s ass he walks by. II hisses, spinning on his heel with a furrowed brow before he readjusts his hold on the blankets in his arms.
“Hands off until the nest is done,” II breathes out. Cheeks flushed. Pretty eyes sparkling with exhaustion beyond the immediate fondness. Ivy snickers, reaching out to place a hand on II’s. Soft fabric brushes his fingers as II hefts the blankets up with a little huff. “Vessel and III can come keep you company. I need them out of the bedroom.”
“How big is the bed?” Ivy asks, squeezing II’s hand before he slowly releases him.
“Big enough for two giants,” II snorts, turning on his heel towards the end of the hall once again. “So plenty big enough for you and me to fit in between them.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Ivy muses, sinking further back into the plush couch beneath him.
“Don’t forget to call home,” II calls back to him, voice carrying over the roar of the bus’s engine. Ivy almost forgot the rhythm of its steady hum. How it had, in the past, lured him to sleep. He doesn’t need to rely on it anymore, he realizes. Can use his mate’s breathing instead. He smiles at II’s reminder, seizing his phone from his pocket. He wags it in the air.
“Already texted mam, Alys, and Jack,” Ivy calls back. “It’s late back home, but they waited up. Thankfully that petrol shop had good Wifi.”
“America is weird but wonderful for that,” III interjects, sidestepping II with Vessel in tow. II hurries into the bedroom, dumping the blankets out of Ivy’s view before trailing after their two towering mates. “I talked to my nan. She said hello and hopes that we visit soon.”
“We’ll go see her when we get back,” Vessel promises III, kissing his cheek. Ivy makes room on the couch. Offers up space for them. Delights when Vessel collapses on one side of him while III collapses on Ivy’s other. They encircle him like it’s nothing. Giggling to themselves. Squishing him as II rolls his pretty eyes and retrieves another handful of sheets. “You glad to be on the road again, IV?”
“I am glad,” Ivy answers, squirming in their hold but never once trying to break away. “What design are you going for II?”
“You’ll see when I’m finished,” II responds, disappearing down the hall once more. The bedroom door slams shut.
The three of them laugh softly. But Ivy leans into Vessel’s side a little harder. Knows that the Dominant Alpha feels as if the things that he does and provides for II are not enough. Never enough. He has to remind him that it is. That Vessel is. That he always has been.
“If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d be all over you tonight, Vess,” III confesses with a breathy sigh. Hearthsmoke curls in the air, warming between them. Ivy nuzzles into Vessel’s neck. Smiles into the shaky sigh that his mate exhales. “You’ve really gone above and beyond for us this time.”
“Same here,” Ivy admits as Vessel chuckles deeply. “Thank you for everything, Vessel.”
“You’re my pack,” Vessel says, squeezing Ivy tighter before slowly releasing him. III follows their leader’s lead, loosening his grip around Ivy’s waist. “Providing things for you and making sure you’re comfortable is my job.”
“Well, you’ve done an excellent job,” III giggles, all but collapsing on top of them. Ivy barks out a laugh, coiling his hands over III’s spine as the Empath stretches out across their laps. III snickers louder, burying his face in Vessel’s thigh. “Love you both so much.”
“Love you too,” Ivy and Vessel say at the same time. Words that make Ivy’s heartbeat quicken. It never fails to. Being reminded of how deeply he feels for his mates. How deeply they feel for him. For each other.
He’s blessed, he knows. So incredibly blessed.
“Do you think the fans will dig the new looks?” III asks, voice muffled by the fabric of Vessel’s joggers.
“They seemed to enjoy the sneak peaks,” Vessel hums, lithe fingers dancing through III’s messy, golden locks. Ivy’s own fingers splay across III’s ribs. Gently massaging his chosen mate’s skin. Reveling in the shudder it elicits from III. “II is excited to show off his new variations for The Summoning. He’s been working hard on them.”
“II works hard on everything he does,” Ivy muses through a smile, leaning further into Vessel’s side as the singer slumps against him. Ivy clears his throat. Finds it annoyingly scratchy. Laments not drinking more water after disembarking the plane. “These allergies are killing me.”
“A new country will do that to you,” III grumbles, relaxing further against them. His position can’t be comfortable. Legs splayed out awkwardly. Torso and head cradled by their hands. But III seems entirely content to lie there, held in their embrace. “My nose has been running all day.”
“Don’t get snot on my leg,” Vessel bemoans, throwing his head back dramatically before laughing. “Let me up, you two. I’ll make some tea for us before II’s done with the nest,” Vessel says, stretching his arms overhead as he stands. He presses a kiss to the top of III’s head on the way up, then another to Ivy’s temple before making for the kitchenette.
"Think he'll bring us some snacks?" III sighs, head lifting from the spot Vessel left behind. The Empath curls in closer. Ivy holds him close. Cradling III's head with his free hand. His fingers brush back his unruly hair.
“He usually does when he's like this,” Ivy hums, hand lazily tracing patterns into III’s side. “Hopefully it's one of those biscuits you bought at the petrol station."
“Hopefully,” III lets his eyes flutter shut. “Don’t let me fall asleep here, though. I want to be awake when II finishes up the nest.”
“I won’t,” Ivy murmurs, though he already feels his own limbs growing heavier. He tilts his head back, letting it rest on the back cushion. His throat scratches again, dull but persistent. Maybe it’s from the recycled, dry air on the plane. Or maybe he just needs sleep.
The low hum of the engine beneath them rocks the bus gently, like a cradle in motion. III’s breathing deepens. Somewhere toward the back, they hear II shuffling behind the closed door. Vessel hums a tune under his breath as he works, preparing the kettle and their mugs. III sighs softly, snuggling in closer to him.
It's comfortable. He's comfortable. His mates seem at home here. On the road. With each other. With him.
His Alpha is exhausted, but content. So is he.
Ivy closes his eyes.
Just for a second.
Vessel jolts him awake.
“Here,” Vessel smiles, offering up two mugs of tea as III groans and begrudgingly sits upright.
Ivy blinks, sitting up further as he takes the offered cup. Steam coils in the air. Wafts the scent of a familiar brew. Ivy smiles, sipping the scorching hot liquid. It tastes like honey on his tongue.
“It should help with the allergies,” Vessel explains as he hands off the last mug to III. III hums appreciatively, sipping the liquid. Ivy snickers as the Empath pulls a face at the temperature. Vessel chuckles, fishing a packet of biscuits from his pocket before tossing them into Ivy's lap.
“You know us so well,” III sings off-key, reaching for the package. His lithe fingers tease the outline of Ivy's cock through the fabric of his joggers. Ivy sputters around his mug. Coughing as III laughs and finally takes hold of the cookies.
“Don't make him burn himself,” Vessel chides the bassist with an amused snort. “Finish your tea and snack. II should be done soon.”
“I’m already done,” II’s voice calls from down the hallway, faint but unhurried. Ivy clears his throat before blowing on his tea. Eager to finish it as III offers him a bite of the biscuit. Ivy takes it. Feels chocolate stick to his teeth as II comes to a halt beside Vessel.
“Did you have everything you needed?” Vessel asks their little mate, caramel colored eyes dancing in the bus's warm lighting. II hums sleepily. Doesn't fuss as Vessel pulls him off the ground and into his arms. Cradling him close to his chest. “Tired, my love?”
“I’m worn out,” II confesses, snuggling closer to Vessel’s neck. Burying his face there. Ivy feels it as II’s exhaustion permeates the bond. He feels something else that he wishes he didn’t. Stress.
“Little love,” III starts, wolfing down the biscuit between his teeth as he sets his tea aside. Ivy watches him rise from the sofa. III places a hand on the small of II’s back, snaking another around Vessel’s shoulders. “Want to come with me for a bit? I’ll play with your hair once we’re both in our pyjamas.”
“Will that make you happy?” II questions groggily. Lavender blossoming. Honey saturating the air. Vanilla warmed by affection, spiced with consideration. III chuckles as Vessel adjusts his grip on II before placing him in III’s waiting arms. II’s head flops to the side. Immediately finds purchase in the crook of III’s neck. Ivy can feel it the moment that II relaxes, held in the arms of their other mate.
“You being happy always makes me happy,” III says with a lilt, holding II closer. “Besides, I’m dying to see what design you’ve come up with for us this time.”
“It’s nothing special,” II snorts as III begins carrying him off down the hallway. Ivy’s faint smile around the rim of his mug grows when he hears III’s beautiful laugh echo off the bus’s walls.
“Everything you make for us is special. None of that now,” III’s voice carries before the sound of the bedroom door closing fills the air.
Ivy sips the remainder of his scalding tea as Vessel collapses beside him on the couch. The Dominant Alpha reaches for III’s tea, polishing it off with a slight grimace.
“III likes his tea far too sweet,” Vessel remarks, setting the empty mug aside.
“So does II,” Ivy chuckles, setting his own empty drink aside. He folds the biscuit wrapper and sets it down next to his abandoned mug. “Is II… going to be okay? Being away for so long?”
Vessel sighs deeply, pinching his brow.
“To be honest?” Vessel begins, his voice pitching itself an octave higher before he exhales. “I… worry about that every time we’re away from home. This is the longest tour we’ve ever done. II says he’ll be fine. But…”
“But it’s II,” Ivy finishes for his mate, placing his hand over Vessel’s free one. Squeezing it. Lacing their fingers together as Vessel despondently nods. “That’s just how he is.”
“Sometimes I think II’s getting tired of this life,” Vessel admits, his grip tightening around Ivy’s hand. “What if he’s… too afraid to tell me that? What if he wants something that I… haven’t given him? Stability is one thing. But permanence somewhere is something else entirely.”
“I wonder if II’s afraid of wanting that for himself,” Ivy muses, not disagreeing. “II loves touring, Vessel. He lives for this. For music. The road. The performances. But I do wonder if… Fore,” Vessel sucks in a hissed breath. Ivy pauses, affording his mate a moment before he continues. “I wonder if Fore pressuring II into another lifestyle that II denied wanting makes him reluctant to admit it if something changes. Because if he admits that he wanted to take a break and rest for a while, or something else, then…”
“Then he would be admitting that Fore was right,” Vessel hisses with a defeated sigh. “He’d be admitting that everything he suffered through was for nothing.”
Vessel shakes his head.
“But if we hadn’t endured what we did with Fore, you wouldn’t be here.” The Dominant Alpha continues. Ivy smiles sadly. Allows his mate to pull him in close, separating their hands as Vessel pulls him into his side. “I can’t imagine our lives without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Vessel,” Ivy reminds his mate. Collapsing into Vessel’s side as the singer gently rocks them back and forth. The smell of saltwater washes over him. His scent combined with the motion of their bodies feel heavenly. As if Ivy is not on a tour bus at all. But rather drifting peacefully at sea.
“It’s… not easy for me,” Vessel admits, Alpha grumbling out a growl through the singer’s wolfish teeth. Ivy’s own bristles, curious. Listening. Responding to the pain in his mate’s voice. They’ve long since grown accustomed to one another. His Alpha and Vessel’s own. They recognize each other. They call out and for the other. But there is little that can be done about embarrassment in the face of instinct.
Little that can stifle the pain of perceived failure when one’s own evolutionary traits are deemed not met by their instincts.
Ivy knows the feeling well.
How he can’t protect his mates, his pack, from everything.
He can’t imagine the pressure on Vessel's shoulders. The demands of perfection. The responsibility of three bonded mates, claimed by his glimmering fangs. The urge to provide for his pack. The war between Vessel himself and his Alpha on the topic of expanding it.
“Do you want to take a break from all of this?” Ivy asks sincerely, listening to Vessel’s breath as it catches in his throat.
“Not yet,” Vessel confesses, his voice a hushed whisper. “I… I don’t think I'm ready yet. I don’t think I’m… good enough as I am right now.”
“You’re plenty good enough,” Ivy disagrees. His throat scratches again. He clears it. Sniffling a moment later. Cursing the liquid he feels drip down the back of his throat.
“I’ll never stop wanting this,” Vessel tells him, eyes darting to the nearby window. To where the open road passes by them in a blur of headlights and color. “But can I have both things? Or does that make me greedy? Unfair to II? Unfair to… everyone?”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself,” Ivy shushes him. Turning his head into his mate’s chest. Pressing kiss after kiss on the fabric of Vessel’s hoodie, right above his sternum. Right above his rapidly beating heart. “Maybe you and II should talk when we’re home.”
“Two months from now,” Vessel chuckles, the sound shaking his chest. Ivy hums into it. “We’ve barely just begun and I’m already falling apart.”
“I’m not going to let that happen.” Ivy promises him. Smiles into the fabric of his mate’s sweatshirt as Vessel pulls him fully into his lap. Arms snake around him. Lift him from the couch as Vessel stands. Ivy snickers. Alpha grumbling at being manhandled. “Should I expect you to wake me up at six in the morning wanting to go for a run?”
“Oh, if we’re in Chicago by that time then naturally.” Vessel replies, carrying him down the hall. Ivy snorts. Buries his face in Vessel’s neck, breathing in his mate’s scent gland. Ivy smiles into the scar he made on the Dominant Alpha’s skin as Vessel opens the bedroom door. “But make it seven because we deserve to sleep in a little.”
“Seven?” Ivy laughs, lifting his head. “How gracious of you.”
The bedroom is dimly lit. Warm fairy lights twinkle over the built-in bookshelves behind the massive mattress. It takes up most of the room, leaving little room on either side for entry. Around the mattress’s edges lies a thick pile of blankets. Faux furs. Knitted blankets. Fleece and silk line the interior rim of the circular pattern. Ivy spots one of his crewnecks. One of II’s shirts. Vessel’s joggers. III’s favorite oversized hoodie. Clothes pins, tangled with fake ivy, hang from the bookshelves. Each pin is empty.
Ivy knows why. Smiles.
“II is going to pester Adam for polaroids along the way,” III says quietly. II is sound asleep in the bassist’s arms. Tucked against III’s chest with the Empath’s fingers still working through II’s pale blond waves. “Twenty pins. Twenty photos from Chicago to LA.”
“Cute,” Vessel snorts, gently lying Ivy down on the mattress. Ivy reluctantly lets go of his mate’s neck. Groans softly when he relaxes in the nest beside II. He instinctively leans into his little mate’s space. Feels II’s warm breath ghost over his cheek as II subconsciously leans into him.
“Do you want your usual place, Vess?” III asks softly.
“Not tonight,” Vessel answers and Ivy feels the mattress dip behind him. Warmth blossoms across his back as a hand snakes across his chest. Ivy smiles as Vessel cocoons him. Placing kiss after kiss on Ivy’s scent gland. Amber and leather rises. Wafts over them in gentle pulsations as Vessel sighs contentedly. “We’re all exhausted. Let’s just get some sleep.”
“Sounds good to me,” III concurs sleepily, curling tighter around II’s sleeping frame.
Ivy feels a blanket drape over his shoulders. Doesn’t open his eyes as exhaustion takes over him. He should get up. Brush his teeth. Drink another glass of water. Have a final smoke before he heads to bed. But he’s content here. Content to breathe in the comforting scent of his mates. Content to feel the steady rise and fall of their chests. Listen to the quiet sounds of their breathing.
The hum of the bus over the open road sings beneath them like a traveling lullaby.
Ivy falls asleep to the sound of II’s soft snoring all the same.
-
Vessel doesn’t wake him at sunrise.
Ivy awakens on his own accord. Eyes greeted with the sight of II still curled up beside him. Only there is no warmth at his back. No III behind II’s frame. Ivy lazily pulls II into his arms. Kissing his mate’s brow. Smiling as it twitches beneath his lips. Ivy’s mouth is dry. His lips cracked. But minus the slight scratchiness in his throat, he feels well rested.
II’s scent is saccharine. Overwhelmingly sweet.
The little Omega purrs in his arms. Ivy’s teeth ache in response. Fangs panging with fondness as he nuzzles into his mate’s skin.
It’s been a long time since II’s done that. Purred for him. For anyone.
It brings a swell of pride to Ivy’s chest. Makes his Alpha sing. II feels safe with him, he knows that. But to have proof of that feeling beyond II’s words, and the weight of his emotions through their bond, brings a genuine smile to his lips.
“You awake, II?” Ivy mumbles, voice deep with the remnants of sleep. II’s brow twitches again. Pale blond lashes flutter, lengthy and soft. They graze ivy’s cheek. Force a rough giggle out of him as II blinks himself awake. Ivy needs to get up. Use the restroom. Drink something to clear his throat. But II only melts further into him and Ivy can’t bring himself to complain.
II is happy. Content. Safe. Sleepy. Adorable and cuddly in his arms.
That’s all he needs. All he’s ever wanted in regards to his littlest mate.
“You’re warm,” II rumbles against him. Scooting in impossibly close. Plastering himself to Ivy’s chest. Ivy noses at his mate’s hair. Feels his half-hard cock brush against II’s thigh as the drummer settles fully against him. II smirks against his skin. Sharp teeth graze the sensitive curve of his neck, just above the spot II's claim rests. Ivy breathes in a stuttered breath as II chuckles against him. “Want me to take care of that?”
“You don’t have to,” Ivy responds, basking in his mate’s sweetened scent as his Alpha fully blinks itself awake. No longer drunken on the feeling of pride. Honed in on something else now. The promise of his Omega’s touch. The promise of II’s warmth.
II liked to be sweet at times. Ivy’s known that from the rip. But it still takes him by surprise in quiet moments like these. Just how sweet II really can be beneath the rolling of his pretty eyes and the snarling of his pretty little fangs.
A hand deftly pushes past the waistband of his joggers, bypassing his boxers with ease. Ivy groans appreciatively as II’s soft fingertips dance over the head of his cock, rubbing the slit. II nips at his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Ivy relaxes fully. Lets II take the lead as the little Omega coils his hand around Ivy’s cock and lazily strokes it. Ivy feels it twitch in II’s palm, growing harder as the drummer lets out an airy exhale.
“You okay?” II asks softly, warm lips ghosting over the damp skin left behind by his kisses. Ivy shudders, tilting his head back.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says through a gruff tone, clearing his throat as II continues to languidly move his wrist. The heat and pressure feel incredible against his skin. His own pre soon coats II’s hand, easing the gentle slide.
“I love you,” II mumbles against him. Returns to placing kiss after kiss on Ivy’s exposed neck. Ivy’s Alpha sings. Content with the pleasure it receives. With being cared for. Serviced by the object of its desire. By its mate. By Ivy’s.
“I love you more than anything,” Ivy says wholeheartedly, tipping his head back further. II leans in further to his space. Pace increasing. Pleasure mounting. Ivy subconsciously bucks his hips upward, thrusting into II’s twisting hand. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.”
“When am I not good for you?” II teases, playfully biting the dip between his neck and shoulder. Lavender spikes. Honey pours over him. Saturates the air. His little mate’s words. His tone. Every sound II makes is a purr. Contented. Happy. Ivy can feel him now more than ever when they’re like this. Connected. In-sync with one another. Relishing in the comfort. The lack of distance between them.
“You’re always good,” Ivy laughs, agreeing easily. II’s never been anything to the contrary with him. But he’s heard things before. Heard II making demands of Vessel behind a cracked open door. Heard Vessel pleading for II to behave for him. To take him. Heard II’s pleased giggles at having their Dominant mate so openly beg. Wrecked. Taken. Consumed by want for II.
“I could make you work for it,” II hums, voice lilting. As if he knows what Ivy’s thinking. Reminiscing on. But II chuckles adorably against him. “But I know you need this right now. You feel… out of sorts. Let me take care of you, Ivy.”
And Ivy lets him. Lets go of the tension he didn’t know he was holding. Lets II love him the way only II can. Sweet. Steady. Comforting. Giving his Alpha what it needs, the touch of its Omega. Giving him what he needs, an outlet for the emotions he cannot name. The words stuck on his tongue. The feelings caged between his ribs.
II kisses his neck. Slides down the mattress a moment later. Ivy flops on his back without thinking. Without instruction. Knows what II means to do and braces himself for it.
He won’t last much longer. He knows it the moment that II pulls Ivy’s leaking cock free from his joggers and lazily licks the head. II’s mouth is warm. Skilled. Deft. The little Omega takes him in like it’s second nature to him. Breathes around his length. Takes his cock down his throat until II’s nose brushes against Ivy’s pubic bone. II stays there.
Hums.
Ivy feels it’s tug. Feels the insistence of Harmony. Feels how it changes him the moment he gives into its incessant call.
II forces him to feel pleasure. Whites out all else with a rhythmic hum, muffled by the weight of Ivy’s cock on his tongue. Ivy lets out a hoarse moan as he cums. Hands scrambling to hold II in place. Hips bucking up into his mate’s warm, wet mouth. II’s throat constricts around his length. Drawing out every drop of his spend with practiced ease. II looks up at him. Eyes bleary and bloodshot. Radiating smugness. Ivy curses under his breath. Lets II go.
The little Omega pulls off his cock with a wet pop. Grins. Then laps at the head of his softening length. Drinking every last drop of his release.
“Fucking hell,” Ivy groans huskily. Fingers threading through II’s pale locks as the drummer purrs and nuzzles against his spit covered cock. It’s sweet. Erotic. Loving. It’s everything.
II is everything.
“Did I make my Alpha happy?” II asks with a saccharine tone, scent flaring in a way that saturates the room. Ruining even his own scent-work. Ivy feels like he could cum again from the drummer’s words alone. But his cock only offers a tiny twitch against II’s cheek as II continues to brush against it.
“Everything about you makes me happy,” Ivy answers honestly, brushing the hair out of II’s soft blue eyes. “Going to let me return the favor now?”
“I’m going to go pester Vessel,” II declines with a sly grin. Ivy snorts. Gasps a little as II kisses his softened cock before tucking him back inside of his joggers. “I’ve got three Alphas to keep satisfied after all.”
“As if we don’t keep each other busy enough,” Ivy laughs, pushing himself off the mattress as II sits up on his knees. Ivy’s limbs ache. Sore from the flight. From the travel. He hardly knows what time it is. His internal clock entirely disrupted by the ocean away from him and their home. “I don’t think we’re moving anymore. So, I guess we made it to Chicago.”
“Why don’t you and III go do a little exploring?” II suggests with a shrug, slipping from the nest. “We’ve probably got time until we have the crew meeting.”
“Not a bad idea,” Ivy agrees easily, slipping from the bed without disrupting the circular pile of linens that encircle their resting place. “I like the nest, by the way.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about it,” II comments with a laugh. Ivy watches him dig through the sheets before plucking out a familiar shirt. One of Vessel’s. II strips shamelessly. Leaves himself in only the tiniest of black shorts and Vessel’s oversized shirt. It will drive their Alpha wild. Ivy grins as II flashes him a knowing look.
“What don’t you like about it?” He inquires as he makes for the nearby closet, rifling through his duffle bag before pulling out a pair of cargo pants.
“It kind of reminds me of a bird nest,” II says, and Ivy can practically feel his embarrassment. Feels it tug on the bond as he turns to face II. His mate’s cheeks are flushed. Red spreading over the paleness of his cheeks, dipping down to his chest.
“It’s nice, II,” Ivy tells him sincerely. Offering his mate a reassuring smile before he slips out of his pants and hurriedly pulls on his cargo pants.
“You’re in a hurry,” II notes with a raised brow. His embarrassment fades once more into relaxed contentment.
“I have to pee so badly,” Ivy confesses with a cheeky grin of his own.
“That would have been nice to know before I let you fuck my mouth,” II barks out, flushing a vibrant shade of red. Ivy cackles as he leans down, pressing a kiss to his mate’s brow before he quickly exits the bedroom.
He slips into the nearby bathroom and makes quick work of relieving himself. Washing his hands a moment after as he stares at his reflection. His eyes look red rimmed. Slightly puffy from sleep. Dark circles rest beneath his eyes. His nose is slightly pink. His skin flushed from his morning spent with II. He clears his throat again, reaching for one of the new toothbrushes and toothpaste. He robotically finishes his morning routine before he shuffles out of the door.
What he sees puts a smile on his lips. Vessel sits on one of the additional couches, II perched on top of him. They kiss languidly. Affectionately. Hands tangled in each other’s hair. Lips moving in sync. Their scents coil and merge, combining into one. Ivy walks past them quietly. Feels Vessel’s eyes on him as he enters the kitchenette and is greeted to the sight of a lazily sprawled out III.
“Morning, beautiful,” Ivy grumbles as he makes for the small refrigerator. He grabs a bottle of water and hastily uncaps it, chugging it in a bid to soothe the burning sensation in his throat. He groans in relief when it satiates the sting.
“Morning, gorgeous,” III giggles as he rises, locking his phone and slipping it into his back pocket. “You want to go do some exploring I hear? II told me you were keen before he bullied Vessel to the other couch.”
“I doubt Vessel took much convincing,” Ivy snorts as he finishes off his water. Frowning when he finds himself still parched. “Remind me to pick up some allergy medication while we’re out.”
“Still stuffy?” III asks with a frown, raising a hand and planting it on Ivy’s forehead. “You’re not hot.”
“I’m offended by that,” Ivy says teasingly, delighting in the grin that III offers him in response. “I’ll buy you… breakfast?”
“Lunch, love,” III chuckles, pointing to the nearby clock. “One in the afternoon, doll.”
“You let us sleep in pretty late,” Ivy remarks as he tosses his empty water bottle in the nearby bin. III’s scent curls around him. Warm. Fond. Laced with something else. Something he doesn’t have the word for. Something he can’t feel. He doesn’t let it bother him.
“You both deserved some good rest,” III says through a genuine smile. Blue-green eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun as it filters in through the blinds. “Now come on. Let’s go get something to eat and give those two a little time to themselves. Vessel and I had some breakfast delivered for us all, but the leftovers will be here when we get back. Let’s just go have some fun.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ivy replies. Smirks when he hears II let out a soft moan. A part of himself wants to stay. Wants to see what Vessel did to make II let out such a pretty sound. But he knows that III is right. That they need time together. To themselves. Space to work through things that they’ve both been feeling for eight years together now. The same feeling every time that they hit the road. The same feeling when they leave the comfort of their home and need instead to find a home in each other.
He follows III to the entrance of the bus. Sliding on his combat boots and grabbing his cigarettes before stepping off the bus.
Wind kisses his cheeks, tousling his short hair. The sun warms his skin. He shivers slightly in spite of it. With a smile, he brings an unlit smoke to his lips and lights it with a lighter that produces a steady flame even as it dances in the breeze. III comes to a halt beside him after shutting the bus’s door. They stand there for a moment, breathing in the skyline in the distance. A million emotions swell in Ivy’s chest.
He coughs around his smoke, nose crinkling as he removes it from his lips. III offers him a worried look. But Ivy merely flashes him a reassuring smile.
“Ready to go enjoy your first real day in America, love?” III questions, extending outward Ivy’s forgotten phone. He curses to himself as he grabs it, stuffing it in his pocket before taking III’s hand with his own.
“Ready,” Ivy says sincerely, raising his smoke to his lips. He watches as it filters out of his nose, swirling in the wind.
Chicago greets him in the distance, skyscrapers filling the skyline.
It’s a far cry from any place Ivy’s ever been. A far cry from home. A far cry from their comfortable house in London.
The city waits. Their future, unknown. But Ivy takes III’s hand, and together, they walk towards it.
Chapter 21: Backline
Summary:
7.2k words. Nothing inherently worthy of chapter warnings, except angst? Just heed the tags, as usual.
Notes:
Hi, hi.
It's been a bit of a hectic week for me, but I'm happy to have this chapter ready this quickly in spite of it. I'm going to refrain from saying anything else to avoid spoiling this chapter or the rest of the final act. I won't be saying much else about it. ;)
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be crying over my docs. Hating my life. Editing my own work is hell. You're incredible! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for helping me with a certain scene because I was banging my head against the wall. Words are hard, even when you know what to say.
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
I will be responding to comments this evening! Thank you all so much for the incredible, and continued, out-pouring of support on this fic. You guys are amazing. <3
As always, take care and enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The crowd’s roar follows Ivy like a ghost as he slips offstage.
His chest is heaving. Sweat clings to his neck beneath his new mask. His final scream had been a good one. Sharp. Guttural. Timed just right to punch under Vessel’s final growl. But it left something burning in his throat on its way out. He doesn’t stop moving until he’s past the curtain and into the half-lit corridor behind the stage. He rips his mask off in a haze. Then, he braces his free hand against the wall and coughs.
Once.
Twice.
A third time. Rougher, catching on something raw in his throat.
It hurts.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word barely more than a rasp.
His first American tour. Kansas City. Only their ninth show in, and he’s already coughing up his lungs.
Ivy doesn’t hear the footsteps. But he feels him.
The air crackles. The deafening roar behind the curtain falls silent. It feels like the world beneath his feet is spinning.
Vessel’s scent hits him. Cold and heavy as the sea. A hurricane, flooding the venue hallway in a matter of seconds.
It silences the nearby technicians. Quiets their crew's idle chatter. Drowns out the smell of all else. Ivy hasn't been able to smell anything well in days. Vessel's ocean fills his nostrils. Burns his aching throat. Fills his lungs.
Ivy stiffens against the wall. Throat still burning. Sweat cooling against his brow. His body trembles. His Alpha whines. Choked and trembling. An involuntary response.
Vessel finally rounds the corner. His stage cloak billows behind him, flowing from his rapid pace. His body paint streaks across his abdomen, dripping with sweat. Even through his mask, Ivy can feel Vessel's eyes on him.
His mate moves quickly the moment that their gazes meet. Two long strides. Then there's no distance left between them. Ivy leans against the wall. Vessel’s hand slams beside his head. Palm flat. Body close. Frowning. Scent soured with apparent worry. Ivy offers Vessel a shaky smile.
Vessel doesn't return it.
“You’re going to a doctor,” Vessel says. His tone brokers no room for argument. There’s a deep, inhuman emphasis in his tone. It makes Ivy’s Alpha bristle. It always has. He knows it always will. Mated and familiar as they are, there is nothing his Alpha can do to unlearn a centuries old behavior. The fear of being lesser. The fear of being prey before the maw of a bigger beast. The fear of being seen as weak.
Weak.
Ivy’s felt that way since they got here. Since he set foot off of the plane. II’s already taken his cigarettes and crushed them. Ivy had griped about it endlessly. But in the end, II was a master of negotiation. Rode Ivy’s cock all the way from Indianapolis to St. Louis. Besides the cravings, he hadn’t complained much after that.
III’s already pleaded with him to rest. Batted his pretty lashes. Curled around Ivy like a protective shield, or a comforting blanket. Snaked hands around him and put his gorgeous lips down to Ivy’s pubic bone to distract him. To make him feel better. To make him feel anything else but sick. Tired. Stressed.
The snarl dies on his lips. Silenced by the flare of Vessel’s aquatic scent.
“We’re going to wash up first, and then you’re going to urgent care.” Vessel tells him slowly, emphasizing every word. Ivy sees III linger around the corner, II tucked underneath his arm. Pressed into the Empath’s side. Ivy can feel II’s worry. His concern. But Vessel is the one in control now. What transpires occurs between the two of them, and the two of them alone.
“Vessel,” Ivy tries because that, too, is instinct. He is, after all, an Alpha, too.
“Don’t you dare argue with me on this,” Vessel growls. It will never not be a terrifying sound. The hairs on Ivy’s neck stand on end. His Alpha grumbles, but it soon turns into a whine. As if it too is cowering in fear. As if it too can sense the changing in the atmosphere itself.
Ivy once thought Vessel’s ire a warning shot from nature itself. He feels it now. Poised at his heart. Pulsating and threatening.
“You are going if I have to drag you there myself,” Vessel snarls, but it is then that Ivy can see the tremble in his lips. Hears the shakiness in his voice. A man so accustomed to longing for the perfection that being a Dominant Alpha demands of him, but a man who at last gives in to the need to be assertive. To be in control. To command his pack. Vessel’s voice, shaky as it is, drips with steel and cuts like sharpened stone.
“I don’t need urgent care. It’s just… a cold or something,” Ivy tries again because pride demands it of him. Because his Alpha paces in his chest in a flurry of motion. His heartbeat quickens. His breathing hurts. He coughs ruggedly, bowing his head down to his chest. Vessel’s hand catches his neck, clamping down on his skin where the paint has begun to crack.
“You bared your neck for me,” Vessel says matter of factly. Ivy’s never heard him use that tone of voice before. It sends a shiver down his spine. Vessel’s fingers dance over his scent gland, digging in slightly into his claim. “You do as I say. I won’t let you work yourself into an early grave.”
Ivy opens his mouth. His lips part to protest. He coughs again.
Once.
Then, twice.
Vessel’s grip on his neck tightens. Ivy shudders as the Dominant Alpha leans in. Vessel’s mask digs into his skin. Ivy grips onto him anyway. Breathes him in, the only scent that he can smell. Vessel kisses his sweat dampened scent gland. Black painted lips dancing over black pained skin.
“II took your cigarettes for a reason,” Vessel mumbles against him. Steadying him. Holding him aloft. The world around them is still silent. II’s sadness still permeates through their bond. Ivy knows that they’re there, II and III, just outside of his sight. Watching them. Listening. Expecting compliance from him. “You’ve been smoking your stress away. It’s caught up to you, love.”
“It hasn’t gotten any better since I stopped,” Ivy bemoans. His head lulls forward, landing on Vessel’s slumped over form. He noses at his mate’s bare skin. Feels sweat on his lips. Doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind it. Just wants this. To be held. To feel safe. To feel like nothing could touch him. Not even the illness he tried so hard to deny.
“Which is exactly why you’re going to see a doctor,” Vessel reminds him. Squeezes him tightly. Ivy grumbles then falls silent. His Alpha bows its head. Nervous. He’s nervous, too. Doesn’t want to know what’s wrong with him. It’s easier that way.
He’s never been the priority.
He’s always wanted something else to protect. Something else to die for. He’s never been an option.
“Vocal rest until we get there,” Vessel says with a sigh. His tone as serious as the grave as he peels backward.
Ivy opens his mouth to speak. Thinks better of it as Vessel growls once again.
He’s never seen his mate like this. Domineering and afraid.
Ivy nods his head stiffly. Lets Vessel wrap his arms around him and pull him into another strong embrace.
He catches II and III’s eyes as he peeks around Vessel’s arms. Sees the worry in II’s pale blue eyes. The gripping sorrow in III’s.
Ivy offers them both a reassuring smile.
Neither of them return it.
Neither had Vessel.
Ivy frowns as he coughs into Vessel’s cracking skin.
The silence around him speaks volumes. The silence around him is deafening.
-
The urgent care facility is packed when they arrive, but Ivy never has to wait.
He doesn’t need to question why. He knows how bizarre it must look to the nurses. To everyone. Someone clearly an Alpha with the claim of another on his skin. A Dominant. Vessel’s scent hasn’t lightened up once. Still soured. Stagnant water. A festering sea. It consumes everything. Eats right through the scent neutralizing agents that pump through the facility’s vents in a bid to make the place more welcoming for all.
No one comments on Vessel’s scent, even though it saturates the walls like a stormfront.
Maybe they’re too polite. Maybe they’re afraid. Ivy doesn’t blame them.
Ivy buries his nose in II’s scent gland while he waits. II sits on top of the examination table with him. Caged in by his thighs. Hands trembling where they grip Ivy’s own. II’s scent is muted here. Dull from the congestion in his nose and the powerful neutralizers in the air. But what little of it Ivy can smell is decisively different than its usual notes.
Saccharine. Unbearably sweet. Tooth-rotting.
Ivy can feel the worry through their bond. The unease. The tension. But that’s not what this is.
“Besides being worried,” Ivy sniffles, nosing at his little mate’s skin. “Are you okay, II?”
II sucks in a hissed breath. Pauses. Ivy knows where his mate’s eyes fall. How they dart to III, who sits on the seat directly beside the examination table. How they then shift to Vessel, who stands with his arms crossed next to the room’s closed door.
“I’ll be fine once you are,” II says a beat later. Voice uncharacteristically soft. Sad. Ivy squeezes him tighter. “That’s all.”
“Everything will be fine, love. I promise,” Ivy assures him. His scent flares. It’s drowned out entirely by the neutralized air.
A knock sounds from behind the door.
It opens a moment later as a woman slips inside the room. She’s tall. Dark hair. Piercing green eyes. Alpha. Ivy can tell immediately, even without discerning her scent. She smiles widely, flashing her perfectly white teeth.
II slides off the table, soundlessly slipping from Ivy’s arms. Ivy lets him go. Watches as III pulls II into his arms and into his lap. The doctor’s eyes soften as she regards them with a nod.
“Good evening, my name is Dr. Fuller. What brings you in today?” She introduces herself, taking hold of her rolling stool and dragging it towards the examination table. Ivy scoots towards the end as she takes a seat. He eyes her perfectly manicured nails as they adjust the stethoscope around her neck. Painted a deep shade of red. Cut short.
His brain feels foggy. His mind enshrouded in haze.
He clears his throat. Coughs into the crook of his arm.
Vessel pushes off of the wall.
“He’s been sick since we arrived in America from London. That was a little over two weeks ago,” Vessel answers for him. Ivy coughs again. Sees stars. Feels fluid slide down the back of his throat. He grimaces as Vessel comes to a halt beside him. A hand coils on his shoulder. Grounding him. He coughs again in spite of it. “He got better there for a while. But he’s been getting worse since this morning.”
“I see,” Dr. Fuller replies, removing her stethoscope. Black plastic. Golden metal. Ivy knows it will be cold. Shivers preemptively. Vessel tightens his grip on his shoulder. “You must be the pack Alpha, I presume?”
“I am, yeah,” Vessel answers her with a nod. Minute. Uncomfortable.
Ivy doesn’t envy Vessel in times like these. The balancing act. The need to care for three mates. To be their unified voice. To make decisions on their behalf.
Ivy’s never trusted someone like that before. Grapples with it even now. But there’s sadness in Vessel’s voice as he answers. Too many murky notes to his scent. Ivy knows that he’s the reason for it. Doesn’t want to make it worse. Bites his tongue. Chokes on his own desires and wants. Forces his Alpha to comply. To submit. To do anything but upset Vessel further when his mate already has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting a Dominant Alpha before,” Dr. Fuller continues with a curt nod. “But rest assured, as a Provider Alpha, it’s in my very nature to see to the care of those around me. Your mate’s health is my primary concern.”
Permission.
It never occurred to Ivy before that someone might seek that now.
Not from him. But from Vessel. His mate. His Alpha.
“Do what you need to do,” Vessel sighs, as if the need for his voice at all leaves him troubled. Ivy reaches for Vessel’s hand, but Dr. Fuller scoots closer and in his way.
A Provider Alpha.
A common sub-type. Service oriented. Nurturing those in their care. Mate driven and accommodating. The type that prioritizes Omegas and packs above even themselves. Perfect for the job she’s doing now, Ivy thinks as she raises her stethoscope aloft and looks him in the eye.
“Is it okay if I listen to your lungs?”
He nods his head. Breathes in as best as he can when instructed to. Exhales when she asks. Her stethoscope is cold on his skin. Pulls shiver after shiver out of him as she listens to his lungs.
“Got some rattling going on in there,” Dr. Fuller explains as she removes the stethoscope and lowers his shirt back down. She reaches for her thermometer and wheels herself over towards the wall. Ivy watches as she places a disposable head on it before she comes back over to him. He flinches when it enters ears. Remains silent until it beeps. “You’ve got a fever. 101 Fahrenheit. About 38 degrees Celsius if memory serves me right.”
“So, what’s wrong with him?” III asks, speaking up for the first time in hours.
That knowledge hurts Ivy now. To know how much weight III carries. How the emotional load of their pack is placed firmly on his shoulders time and time again. III’s demeanor is off. Calm replaced by nervous glances. Concern in his blue-green eyes. Ivy watches as III tightens his hold on II, fingers flexing over II’s stomach. II’s head lulls back. Eyes screwed shut. Ivy hates every part of how worried they are. Knows once more that he is to blame.
“I can’t say for certain just yet,” Dr. Fuller says as she disposes of the used tool covers before rolling towards her desk. “But I’m going to order a chest x-ray and some labs. While I get that set up, are there any questions or concerns you have for me?”
“Is he going to be okay?” II asks softly, voice quiet. A hushed whisper. Ivy can feel it then. His devastation. His worry. His pain. He hates it more than anything. He always has.
“We’ll figure out what’s going on and discuss a treatment plan moving forward,” Dr. Fuller says with a placating smile as she stands. “I will go put these orders in so that we can get some proper answers.”
Ivy watches her leave. Hears her heels click down the hallway as he stares tiredly at the closed door. Vessel’s hand finds his shoulder again.
“Everything will be okay,” Vessel tells him. Leans down. Ivy feels his breath ghost his skin before warm lips press against his cheek, brushing against his stubble. “Don’t worry about anything else right now, Ivy. Just focus on getting better.”
“I’m sorry,” Ivy apologizes without thought. Licking his dry lips. Eyes still trained on the door.
“What for, love?” Vessel questions, his voice a grumbling whisper as Ivy swallows the lump in his throat.
For Vessel’s question, he doesn’t have an answer. Only silence. Only unease. He has too many reasons.
None of them feel fair.
-
Bacterial pneumonia.
Contagious.
Ivy’s never been happier that Vessel was a Dominant Alpha. Immune to common illness. Thanks to Vessel’s venom, so was III. So was II. Rendered immune by Vessel’s habit of biting. Of re-claiming. Of unintentionally protecting his pack while giving into the haze of instinct.
Ivy’s only remorseful that it’s not enough for him. Not yet. That his body isn’t used to it. That he still isn’t immune. There’s not enough venom in his bloodstream yet. He hasn’t had enough time to build resistance. Not like the others.
The illness has ravaged him, that much was apparent from the moment that Dr. Fuller returned to the examination room.
But she provided him a solution, one that sits neatly in a bottle in his jacket pocket as Vessel corrals them back into the familiarity of their tour bus. A lifesaving antibiotic. A common one. Ivy feels relieved as he opens the bottle and plucks two of the pills out and into his palms. III passes him a bottle of water.
Ivy takes the medication without a second thought. The bitter taste settles behind his teeth. Leaves an unpleasant layer of chalkiness on his tongue.
“Bed,” II demands, his tone soft spoken. Laced with the remnants of sadness. Rife with concern. Ivy opens his mouth to protest, but II’s eyes narrow in response. He falls silent. II’s bond spikes with worry. With misery. Ivy grimaces as he sets the pill bottle aside. “We’re not going to get sick from you. So, don’t even think about arguing with me over this.”
“Do as he says, love,” III pleads with him. Ivy shivers as the Empath’s hand snakes through his hair, brushing it back and out of his eyes. For the first time in days, Ivy can smell his hearthflame. The scent of freshly felled cedar. III offers him a shaky smile. “We can’t feel as poorly as you do, Ivy. But we can feel you’re uncomfortable and in pain. For our sake, if not your own, do this for us?”
Ivy lets out a stuttering chuckle. Breathes in a shuddered breath a moment later. A sharp whistle escapes on his next inhale.
“You always know exactly what to say to get me to listen,” Ivy notes with a fond lilt. His voice is scratchy even to his own ears. Strained. Exhausted. Raspy and grating.
Still, he means it.
He’s never prioritized himself, he knows this. Always prioritized someone else. Anyone else.
His family. His best friend. His former band. His former co-workers. Now, his mates.
He’s always needed something to fixate on. Something worth protecting. Worth shielding. Worth dying for.
Ivy doesn’t want that now. Not like this. Finds himself grateful for the pills that rest upon the countertop.
Dreads to think what could have happened to him without them.
He’s experienced that once before. Isn’t keen on doing it again.
“Listen to them,” Vessel’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. Leaves no room for argument. No room for any form of complaint. Only compliance. Only submission. “You’re resting, that’s final. We'll have one of the techs fill in until you’re well.”
Ivy blanches. Eyes wide. Lips parted. Vessel’s eyes are dark when they meet his own.
Dilated.
Boiled sugar gone. Replaced entirely with the inky blackness that typically remains in the center of his irises.
“I’m not replacing you,” Vessel all but growls. Stepping forward. Parting II and III’s stances as he comes to a halt before him. Ivy looks up. Studies Vessel’s eyes for reassurance. Vessel’s hand rises. Clamps down on his scent gland. The Dominant Alpha’s thumb presses lightly into his scent gland. It hurts. It shouldn’t.
“I… I know that,” Ivy replies, leaning into the painful touch. Uncaring. Needing his contact. His comfort. His touch. His everything. Regardless of whether or not it pained him. “Feels like I… let you down, though.”
Vessel does growl at that. Grips his cheeks with either hand. Tips his head back.
Ivy sniffles. Vessel’s snarl falters, sliding off of his lips.
A gentle kiss graces his forehead. Then his brow. Then his cheek. One after another. It leaves a trail of dampness down his skin. Vessel’s warm breath cools as it brushes over the wetness on his cheek.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Vessel assures him, thumbs moving steadily back and forth. “You just need to rest and recover, love.”
A growl escapes Ivy’s lips before he can stifle it. It hurts his throat on the way out. But his Alpha cares very little for his discomfort. It’s just as tired as he is. Stifled. Suppressed. Unwell.
Vessel kisses his rumbling lips, silencing him.
“Ivy, listen to me,” Vessel beseeches him. Lips still brushing his. Warm. Soft. Velveteen. Ivy wants nothing more than to feel him on his own once more. To keep feeling them. He’s never been clingy before. Not like this. But it’s all that he can think about now. Being with his mates. Wanting to feel safe. Loved. Wanted.
“I’m not used to this,” Ivy confesses with a shuddered breath. His voice is barely a rasp. “I’m not supposed to be the one needing protection.”
It’s embarrassing. Shameful. His Alpha’s sorrow mounts in his chest. A whine leaves his lips. Vessel’s gently press forward. The Dominant Alpha swallows the sound. Ivy melts into him. All but collapses into Vessel’s arms.
That should make him feel worse. His Alpha. His wounded pride.
But it doesn’t.
It never does. Not when it’s his mates.
“Go with II and III,” Vessel tells him when they part. It’s been less than ten seconds since their lips met. Ivy’s already breathless. His throat seizes. He coughs over his shoulder as Vessel’s hands rub his sore neck, gently gliding over the painful places where his throat constricts. “I’m going to make some calls then I’ll be there with you.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” III’s gentle voice rings in his ears. Ivy sighs sleepily as the Empath’s hand takes his own. Ivy offers no resistance. Knows there’s no use in asking Vessel to stay either. He can see it in his mate’s eyes. His Dominant Alpha in full control. Vessel himself on the backburner as he does what he needs to do to keep his pack together. To keep them safe.
Ivy remembers when III and Vessel shared with him the disappointing news that their fishing cabin rental in Ireland had charged a cleaning due to II’s nesting.
Ivy wonders if they’ll keep things from him, too. For his own good. For his peace of mind. Wonders if their label will be infuriated by his illness. By his inability to perform. He wonders if his paycheck will be docked. Wonders how far that fifteen thousand pounds will dwindle. He thinks of his family. Thinks of what he intended to do with that money.
Anger flares in his veins. Anger at himself.
III pulls him into the bedroom. II follows behind them, silent as a ghost.
Ivy says nothing as III strips him of his clothes. Mumbles the quietest of thanks as II passes the Empath a fresh set of pyjamas meant for him before III gently dresses him. Ivy all but collapses in the nest. Exhausted. Sick. Shaking.
“I’m going to text your mam,” II says as he reaches for Ivy’s phone that lies on the edge of the nest. “I’ll tell her it’s me, and that you’re getting some rest.”
“Please don’t tell her I’m sick,” Ivy utters out, eyes widening out of horror. It’s the last thing he wants. For her to know. For her to tell them that this is far from the first time he’s been ill. That him neglecting his own health is the reason why he’s got here.
He’s never told them that before.
The story his mother reminded him of all those months ago, back when Fore was in their kitchen and Ivy chain smoked on the patio.
It’s not a story he wants to share. Not a memory he wants to relive. He knows it makes him a hypocrite. Knows it makes him unfair. But he’s not ready to have that conversation. To hear the disappointment in his mother’s voice. In his sister’s. His father’s. II’s. III’s. Vessel’s.
Ivy can’t bear the thought. Coughs so hard that a globule of something flies past his lips and lands on the blanket that III’s pulled up around him. He grimaces. III’s worry filled eyes meet his own as the Empath reaches for a nearby tissue and cleans up after him.
Ivy’s ears burn with shame. His Alpha growls pathetically in his chest. He’s not felt this vulnerable since he was a kid.
II’s saccharine scent punches through his muted senses, flooding his nostrils.
“You’ll tell her yourself then,” II says, and Ivy knows that tone of voice. The one that II uses when he gets what he wants.
Ivy minutely nods. It’s all that he can manage. Can’t bring himself to lie more than that. To give voice to his deceit.
A wave of guilt washes over him. He knows that they feel it. Covers it up with a cough that’s more forced than anything.
His pride always gets in the way, it seems.
“Lay on your side,” III urges him, gently nudging his side. Ivy complies. Feels the bus hum to life under them as they finally depart the parking lot. Four hours behind schedule thanks to his sudden trip to urgent care.
The bed dips beside him. III slides into place behind him. Ivy shudders as the blanket is pulled over his tired frame. III’s scent is plentiful as it washes over him. Smoldering. Earthy. Calming. Ivy lets out a pleasured sigh that sounds more akin to a gasp for air as it tumbles off his lips.
“Here,” II mumbles as he offers Ivy’s phone to him. His mother’s contact is displayed on the screen. He grimaces. “Call her while I get ready for bed.”
Ivy takes the phone, hitting the call option with a frown before he presses it to his ear. III shifts behind him. Snakes an arm over his torso and buries his nose in Ivy’s scent gland. Ivy’s hand shakes as the phone rings. Once. Then twice.
It’s late for him. Early for his mother.
She answers on the third ring.
Ivy clears his throat.
“Hey, mam,” he forces out. His voice isn’t a rasp. But it isn’t quite clear either. It burns. His throat stings. Phlegm runs down the back of his throat. He swallows it. Forces himself not to gag as he waits for his mother’s reply. He switches to Welsh. To his mother tongue. It’s easier that way. Easiest on him, at least. “I just wanted to check in with you.”
“You sound out of sorts,” his mother notes, and he can already hear the exhaustion in her voice.
She doesn’t need this. The added stress.
She’s old enough as it is. Has the weight of the world on her shoulders. Has her boss breathing down her back about her productivity. The last thing she needs is to know that he’s ill. Seriously ill. Sick with the same illness that nearly took him away from her, all those years ago.
He needs to keep this from her. For his own good. For hers.
She notices anyway.
She always does.
“You’re sick, sweet boy,” she sighs, her voice plagued with a rattle of her own. The remnants of sleep, maybe. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious, picked up a bug at a show,” he lies with a cough. The words taste like ash on his tongue. His scent sours. III nuzzles him. II pauses his task, looking over his shoulder. Ivy resists the urge to sniffle. “I got medicine from a doctor here. American healthcare is… a lot different than what we’re used to back home.”
“Expensive, too,” his mother hums knowingly. Ivy wonders if she buys it. His lie. Feels relief wash over him as she laughs quietly. “But you’re covered by your mate’s employer, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m on Vessel and II’s plan,” Ivy answers with a smile. Grateful for the slight change in topic. His skin feels warm. III’s heat blossoms across his back. He shivers in spite of it. III pulls the blankets around them up higher. “Vessel said that the label would reimburse him. It feels wrong having to pay at all… just to stay healthy. Or alive.”
It’s a miracle how his voice doesn’t waver. How he manages to stifle his coughs.
He doesn’t want to be weak.
He never has.
“So, you got yourself some medicine,” his mother continues. Ivy can hear the click of a lamp. Knows that sound like the back of his hand. The lamp in the living room in his childhood home. The same one that’s been there since he was a child himself. “Are you getting enough rest? Did you stop smoking?”
“Stopped smoking a few weeks ago,” he replies, neglecting to tell her why. Refusing to broach the topic. “I’m… sitting out of the next show so that I can rest.” A cough. A wince. Ivy curses under his breath. “Don’t worry about me, mam. It’s nothing serious, and… they’re taking good care of me.”
“Vessel… Lucas,” his mother starts with a laugh. It brings a smile to Ivy’s lips. He catches II’s eyes as his little mate perches himself on the end of the nest, eying him with curiosity. His scent is incredibly sweet. Perceivable still beneath the congestion, and the lack of sense of smell. “He’s a tough lad, that one. Good for you, too. I’m glad you’ve got him.”
“I’m glad I have him, too,” Ivy confesses. Means every word.
“Finley and Toby are proper lovely, too. How did my boy wind up so fortunate and blessed?” His mother asks. Ivy can hear her smile. Smiles himself as III’s arms tighten around him. Protective. It’s not lost on Ivy. How rare that is for III.
“Luck,” Ivy breathes out, raspy and quiet. “I… I’m glad that I stayed, mam. Thank you for… talking some sense into me back then.”
Emotions well in his eyes. He’s still not much of a crier. Wonders why it bothers him now. Why it hurts to remember.
“I’m doing okay now,” he says with far too much pain in his voice. His mother falls silent on the other end of the line. He clears his throat. Buries it. Blinks until the wetness in his eyes disappears. III frowns into his skin. II averts his gaze, hanging his head. “I… love you, mam. I hope you have a good day at work.”
“I love you too, Ivy,” his mother returns immediately. “Get some rest, and keep me updated. Don’t go neglecting your health now. You’ve done plenty of that, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ivy says quietly, lifting the phone from his ear. Unable to argue. “I have.”
As the phone clicks dead, Ivy hands it over to II. The drummer takes it without a sound, plugging it into the nearby charger. Ivy sighs softly. Sniffles a moment later as III shifts in even closer. Pressing entirely against his back. Curling around him. II grips the edge of the blanket before climbing over the nest’s circular edge.
“You felt guilty,” II says with a knowing lilt in his voice. Ivy’s painful breath hitches. II lies down beside him, pulling the blankets up high. Pale blue eyes lock onto Ivy’s deep blue own.
“I didn’t… tell her how bad it was,” Ivy admits with a frown. III sucks in a hissed breath before returning to scenting his skin. His Alpha creaks open a tired eye. It’s been quiet since he laid down. More tired than he is, maybe. “She’d insist on coming here, and… my parents don’t have passports. Besides, they can’t afford to lose their jobs.”
“What part of Vessel will take care of them do you not understand?” II bemoans, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You really don’t fucking get it, do you? How much you mean to us. You scare me with that, Ivy. ”
“II, that’s enough of that,” III cuts in. Speaking up for the first time in a while. His voice is gruff. His tone deeper than it usually is, a feat impressive for III. Ivy’s hair stands on end where III’s warm breath ghosts over the dampness on his skin. He’s never heard III sound this way before. Not to this extent. Not even with Fore. Not even when II was sick.
“Tell him that,” II pouts, eyes softening. Ivy reminds himself of his little mate’s immunity before pulling him in close. Tucking him flush to his chest. Sandwiching himself between II and III entirely.
“Ivy needs rest, little love,” III sighs, wrapping his arms around them both. Ivy melts into the feeling. “No more stress.”
But II is stressed, too. So is III.
Ivy can smell it in their scents. Hear it in their tones. Feel it in the tension in their bodies as they press against his own. II’s bond radiates with it. Immense amounts. His scent is… sweet.
“Why is your scent so sweet?” Ivy grumbles, hoarse voice barely a whisper. He breathes II in. Feels him stiffen in his arms as III’s lengthy limbs coil further around them. Caging them in.
It’s easy for Ivy to forget it at times, as passive as III is, how big his chosen mate’s body truly is. How sturdy. How quietly, deceptively, strong. He can hardly imagine the internal struggle III must face. How his nature for nurturing and affection must war against his baseline instincts as an Alpha. He’s never doubted III ability to step up when needed. Knows from experience that III’s drive to keep his mates safe ran deep.
He did, after all, whisk II away when Fore showed up at their doorstep.
“Harmony,” II says with a bitter laugh. “When I’m… stressed, and around my mates, my scent gets sweeter so that they’ll… be nicer to me.” Ivy frowns at that. Understands it’s an evolutionary trait. Hates that it’s necessary at all. A defense mechanism. Self preservation. “Manipulative, isn’t it?”
“I wish you wouldn’t think that way, little love,” III sighs. The sound rumbles in Ivy’s ear. Reverberates through his skin. “You’re not manipulative.”
“Everything I do is inherently manipulative,” II disagrees, mumbling the words into Ivy’s sweat-dampened skin. “There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging it, III. I am what I am for a reason.”
“You’re stressed,” Ivy interjects, cutting through the tense atmosphere. His throat itches. Scratches. Raw. Sore. He silently hopes that the medicine works quickly. Hates being sick. Being weak. “II… be honest with me. Are you stressed because I’m sick? Or are you stressed because we’re away from home?”
II snorts. It’s not an amused sound. Not a happy one.
Ivy feels a fresh wave of pain sweep through their bond. Hugs II a little bit closer to his chest in response.
“Can’t both things be true?” II whispers, his voice soft. Barely discernible over the steady thrum of the tour bus as it continues down the open road beneath them.
“When we get home,” Ivy sighs, clearing his throat a moment later. “Promise me that you and Vessel will have a conversation?”
“There’s nothing else that needs to be said,” II disagrees with a tut. Scent flaring. Souring for the first time in weeks. Ivy’s not missed it. The smell of rotten flowers.
The bedroom door creaks open. Their conversation quiets. Ivy makes a mental reminder to bring the topic up again later. Knows that he’s already told Vessel. But feels the need to make II understand.
Understand that it’s okay for him to want something more. That it doesn’t make him any less. That it’s perfectly normal to have wants. Needs. Things that you desire but keep buried. Hidden away.
That it doesn’t mean that Fore was necessarily right.
“What’s wrong?” Vessel asks, and for the first time all day, Ivy can hear the strain in his voice. The exhaustion. The man beneath the immense instincts, addled by untold emotions.
“Nothing is wrong,” III answers for them. Ivy thinks that maybe it’s for the best that they, for once, keep the truth to themselves. Hide it away from Vessel. Their Alpha. The one who has the weight of the world on his shoulders. The one who, somehow, has managed to avoid crumbling under the weight placed upon him.
“Right,” Vessel replies, and Ivy knows that he doesn’t believe them. That he’s only letting it slide due to the circumstances. Idly, he wonders what gives them away. If it’s his own lingering guilt. Or maybe II’s. Or III’s. Or maybe, it’s all of their emotions as they course through their bond with their mate.
“Come to bed, Ve,” II requests, peeling back his tired head just enough for Vessel to get a look at his face.
“Management is aware of the situation,” Vessel sighs as he begins to undress. Ivy watches him through sleepy eyes. How he foregoes a shirt. How he slides joggers over his hips, but keeps them seated low. “They’re not docking your pay, and they’re going to cover the cost of whatever treatment you might need going forward. You have nothing to worry about, Ivy.”
“I’m not worried,” Ivy hums through a wince. Pain spreads through his throat. His neck hurts. Everything does. “I’ll be better in a few days, I’m sure. I’m… only sorry that I have to sit out the show on Friday.”
“Don’t be,” Vessel offers with a beautiful, wolfish smile. Ivy hasn’t seen him smile in days. At least, not genuinely. His Alpha curls in on itself. Shame burns his cheeks. Vessel sits down on the edge of the nest, looking down at them for a moment. In the next, he lies down behind II. Sandwiching their little mate between them.
“The fans will understand, Ivy,” II reassures him, snuggling in closer. Sour notes absent from his scent once again. Sweet. Unbearably sweet. Ivy finds it strange. Doesn’t mention it. Can’t. Not yet. Not now.
“We understand too, love,” III reminds him. Still nuzzling into his skin. Still caging him in as if he’s in need of protection. Of reassurance. Ivy hates that he is. “We don’t want to play without you. But your health is our primary concern.”
He should tell them what happened before. About the time that he wasn’t fine. He should clear his conscience. The lingering guilt. The taste of ashen words on his tongue. But his teeth remain clenched. His eyes refuse to open. To run the risk of meeting their gazes. Of seeing their disappointment. Of seeing his own shame reflected back at him.
“I’ll be okay,” he says instead, his voice as shaky as his conviction. “Thank you all for everything.”
“We love you more than anything,” Vessel’s deep voice sounds. The overbearing scent of the sea washes over him. With his eyes closed like this, surrounded by his mates on either side, Vessel’s tide almost feels like a weighted blanket. Comforting. Reassuring. Everything he needs in spite of the things he cannot bring himself to say. The things he cannot bring himself to ask for.
“I love you too,” Ivy says through a tired, strained, smile.
It’s the first time all day his words haven’t tasted bitter on the way past his lips.
-
Three days later, Ivy sits alone on the tour bus.
There’s three hundred and fifty miles between him and the urgent care clinic that provided him an answer. There’s eight less pills in his prescription bottle. There’s three degrees less on his temperature, reading normal now. There’s only a few thousand feet between him and his mates. Yet, Ivy’s never felt so alone.
So disappointed in himself. So angry with himself for being weak when they needed him. For not being there performing with them. For being absent when they could need his protection.
He sighs. It doesn’t hurt him like before. His throat no longer as scratchy as it once was. His voice no longer hoarse. His neck no longer sore. He should feel relieved.
He doesn’t.
Mindlessly, he lounges in the nest. The one that smells like them. Vessel’s hoodie nearly swallows his arms, but he pushes back the sleeves. Sinks further against III’s pillow. Pulls II’s blanket tighter around himself.
With some reluctance, he logs into his old social media account. Browsing through names and faces he hasn’t seen in ages. People he hasn’t thought of in even longer.
He sees Ieuan with his girlfriend and her family. Wonders if he’s happy now that he’s gone. Now that he’s no longer a part of Ivy’s life. Idly, he wonders if Ieuan ever thinks of him at all.
Keeps scrolling.
He sees Bryn and Owen. A photo showing the two of them as they play live at a bar back in Cardiff. Ivy recognizes the backdrop, but finds himself wondering if they’ve ever returned to Gethin’s pub. If they were even allowed to. He wishes that he didn’t miss them.
He does.
Scrolls further.
He sees his sister and Gareth in a photo together. One where Gareth’s hands rest on the swell of his sister’s belly while she smiles at the camera.
They’ve kept the gender a secret. Ivy can’t wait to meet them. To find out who they are. Who they look like. To see the precious life his sister created with the man who she loves. The one who takes care of her just as Ivy’s own mates take care of him.
Reluctantly, he goes to the search functions. Types in a single query.
Sleep Token
What he sees breaks his heart.
Each of his mates wears their rings. Lets them shine on their golden chains as the house lights hit them, illuminating their forms in the darkness. Vessel stands center stage. III stands at his side. II is in the background, standing up high on his stool. Towering from atop his riser. The tech who fills in for Ivy stands off to the side. But they share one thing in common.
Four fingers held aloft in solidarity. Out of respect. Out of love. Out of so much more than those present for the show could ever hope to know.
Ivy saves the photo. Exits the app a moment later. He lays his phone aside and sits back against III’s pillow, grounding himself in the familiar scent
His eyes sting. The ring that dangles from his neck weighs heavily on his chest.
The ring that was a gift from II. The one that represented their bond. That represented the duty he has to their pack. The one he’s failing to perform now. Laid up and sick. Recovering and tired. Everything but the strong presence they needed. The strong presence he promised them he was.
He coughs into the fabric of the pillow, biting back tears.
Forgetting entirely that his pride wasn’t supposed to let him cry.
He sheds tears anyway. Feeling like a failure. Feeling ashamed.
In the distance, the crowd cheers for his mates. The sound reaches him, even here.
But for the first time, Ivy doesn’t reach back.
Notes:
We are going head first into this final act. I hope you all enjoy the ride. <3
Chapter 22: Stage Dive
Summary:
Chapter Warnings will be posted in the end notes to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Read the warnings if you need to do so.
Nearly 7.8k words. This is a big one and for good reason.
Notes:
We're early with this one! I couldn't bring myself to wait. I may have written 6.2k words last night and the rest today. I was possessed by inspiration. I've been waiting for this moment for a while now.
That being said, please; check the warnings if you need to. Tags will be updated accordingly. These tags are accurate. All of them. Heed them. I will not jumpscare you with something major or worthy of an Archive Warning. Not now. Not ever. That would be tagged from the jump.
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be crying over my docs. Hating my life. Editing my own work is hell. You're incredible! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for help as well!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
I will be responding to comments left on the previous chapter tomorrow evening. Thank you all so much for the incredible, and continued, out-pouring of support on this fic. You guys are amazing. <3 I have had a rough week. Reading your comments has made me smile. Thank you for that.
As always, take care and enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dallas.
Its skyscrapers lick the skyline. Heat waves lift from the asphalt, distorting the roadways. The sun is shining. There’s not a cloud above Ivy, only open blue. He breathes in deep as he leans against the side of the tour bus, sweating through his loose attire. The stinging in his throat is gone. Replaced by a constant soreness that settles in the back of his mouth. But it’s the first time in days he can breathe without wheezing.
He doesn’t feel perfect. But he feels better. Healthier. Well enough to take to the stage later in the day. Well enough to convince Vessel to let him perform.
Ivy watches his mates in the distance. III mumbles something into Vessel’s ear that makes their Dominant partner smile. III lovingly nuzzles into Vessel’s skin before kissing his cheek. Ivy tries to smile too, but his lips twitch unevenly. The grill sizzles beside his mates. Their crew surrounds them, eager for a meal cooked by III’s talented hands.
He isn’t hungry. Has hardly eaten since he fell ill. The mere smell of food makes his stomach churn.
For III’s sake, and for his effort, Ivy will force himself to eat regardless.
He kicks off the bus. Walking the short distance back to the door before swinging it open. Air conditioning blasts his skin as he ascends the steps. Slowly. Everything he does feels slow. But it’s better than being bedridden. Better than being incapable of doing anything at all.
The bus is quiet. In disarray. Ivy pauses. Assesses the changes that have occurred since he disembarked two hours ago.
There’s blankets everywhere. Covering almost every surface, save for the kitchenette. II’s scent is poignant.
Their bond… muddied.
Ivy feels a fresh wave of panic as he calls out his little mate’s name.
Silence.
He doesn’t think. Can’t think. Not when it comes to II. His heartbeat quickens. His blood pumps. Adrenaline courses through his veins. His teeth chatter. He tears down the narrow hallway. Calling for II. Searches under every blanket. Moves pillow after pillow. Doesn’t feel anything from their bond. Only static.
He swings the bedroom door open.
The nest is empty.
Nine photos of their pack together hang from their pins, placed beneath the twinkling lights and ivy. Two photos sit next to those. Two photos of his pack and the tech who replaced him for those dates are placed beside them. Their fingers are held high, showing off a number. A moniker. A reminder of his absence.
Ivy growls. Alpha in full control now. He throws the bathroom door open. Sighs out of relief immediately as the door slams into the opposing wall.
II looks up at him through red-rimmed eyes. Sits on the closed toilet seat with a blanket doused in their combined scents. His pale blonde hair is tousled. Wavy locks lying at odd angles. His chest heaves. His nose is red. His cheeks are damp. Ivy crosses the small bathroom in a single stride. Drops to the hard tile as he kneels before the drummer and takes II’s trembling hands in his.
“Talk to me,” Ivy urges him, thumbs brushing over the back of II’s hands. “What’s wrong, II?”
“I… don’t want to say,” II says softly. His scent is sweet. Saccharine. Nervous. Stressed. Ivy can feel him now. His bizarre mix of emotions. Scared. Worried. But beneath it all lies a muffled layer of happiness. Something strange. Something that stands out in stark contrast to the tears in II’s eyes.
“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?” Ivy reminds him with a slight smile, his own muted scent doing its best to soothe his mate. II scoffs, shaking his head.
“I can’t,” II grumbles, averting his gaze. Ivy searches for pale blue. Frowns when II closes his pretty eyes. “You’re just now feeling better, Ivy. I don’t want to stress you out even more than you already are.”
“You’re not going to stress me out,” Ivy assures him, squeezing his hands tighter. “Not knowing what’s going on with you is what’s stressing me out, love. Tell me what’s going on. I promise I can handle it.”
II takes in a deep breath. His cheeks flush. His shoulders shrug. II tilts back his head and slowly opens his eyes.
“I think…” II starts. Stops. Swallows thickly before he huffs out the words that were caught between his lips. “I think I might be pregnant.”
Ivy blinks. Watches in stunned silence as II slowly meets his gaze. II’s bottom lip trembles as he exhales before groaning.
“The… test was negative, but… I feel weird,” II continues, chewing on his lips as if to stabilize them. “I can’t control my scent. My stomach is bloated. I’m getting… headaches. Dizzy, occasionally. I’m on edge, and… I just don’t feel like myself, Ivy.”
“Okay,” Ivy breathes out, squeezing II’s hands again. Nodding slowly. Processing. “When… when do you think this happened?”
“When I took one contraceptive instead of two because I couldn’t find my other bottle,” II explains, his eyes slowly closing again. The little Omega breathes in deep. Exhales slowly. “It was after we… you and me…”
“Us,” Ivy murmurs, throat scratching. The world feels as if it’s spinning beneath him. His Alpha perks up. Interested. Intrigued. Prideful. Pleased. A natural response, he muses to himself, tilting his head to the side. Observing II, watching as his mate nods minutely. “Are you… considering what to do next?”
II hisses at him. Lips peeled back. Hands pulling free from his own.
Ivy drops them. Startled. Blinking dumbly at II as a look of horror crosses II’s features. Flashes in his widened eyes. II opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. Repeats the process several times before burying his face in his hands.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Ivy consoles him, frowning as he grips II’s bouncing knee. “II, listen to me. I’m here, love. Whatever you decide to do, you have my full support. Vessel and III will-”
“Don’t you dare tell them,” II barks out, dropping his hands. Nose crinkled. Eyes narrowed. Dilated. Pale blue light dancing around an expanse of darkness. “I… I can’t tell them. I’m already trying to be calm so they don’t come in here to check on me. I don’t want III to panic. And Vessel… Vessel will be…” II pauses, scent drifting. Souring. Flowers wilting. “Vessel will be… happy.”
Ivy sucks in a hissed breath as II winces.
“I don’t want to get his hopes up,” II continues, lowering his hands. Ivy takes them with his own again. Hold his bleary gaze as II shakes his head.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself, II,” Ivy tells him pointedly. II meets his gaze. Holds it. Studies him. Gauging his reaction. “Is this… something you want?”
“I don’t know,” II confesses honestly, smiling sadly. “I don’t want to give up what we have. But…” II’s eyes drift to the open door. To the nest. To comfort. To safety. To the place they called their home away from home. “But would it really… be so bad if I did want this?”
“No,” Ivy answers with sincerity. II’s eyes fall on him again. They share a glance. A small smile. Nervous. Uncertain. Ivy clears his throat, managing not to wince. “And for what it’s worth, II, none of us would be upset over this. It might not be something we planned on happening. But these things happen all the time. And I… I could never be anything but happy if you are.”
“This is all your fault,” II laughs, sniffling. Ivy chuckles, coughing a little as II wrangles a hand free and playfully pushes him on the shoulder. The laugh dies in his throat, replaced by a fleeting haze of dizziness.
“You’re not going to kill me for this, are you? I remember you said something like that to Vessel when we were back in Cardiff,” Ivy snorts. II rolls his pretty eyes.
“I guess I can let you off the hook, since you’ve been sick and all,” II hums, but nothing about it is Harmonious. Only II. Only his little mate. Afraid. But brave. Always so brave. Always blinding in his beauty. In his presence. Lavender blooms, and Ivy feels consumed by the sea of flowers as it washes over him. “How are you feeling, by the way? Our bond feels… hazy.”
“That isn’t your doing?” Ivy asks with a raised brow. II’s brow furrows.
“The haziness? No,” II answers, lips twitching downward into a frown. “I’m just… staying calm enough not to alert III and Ve. I’m not doing anything to make it feel like this, though. It… feels like it’s coming from you.”
Odd.
Ivy brushes it off, soothing II with a smile.
He hooks his arms under his mates. Lifting II in his arms as he stands from the knee he’s taken. II snorts, throwing his arms around him. His Alpha hums in contentment. Accepting. Loving. Just as smitten as he was on the day he met him.
Just as blind as it's ever been. As he’s ever been.
“I’m fine, II,” Ivy whispers into II’s soft hair.
“If you say so,” II grumbles, nuzzling into his skin. “Keep this between us? At least until I know for certain.”
“Yeah,” Ivy promises, remembering that sometimes things had to be kept secret. Kept away from his mates. Done in a bid to protect them. Their emotions. Their instincts. He hates the feeling regardless. But he knows it’s necessary. For II’s sake. “Anything for you.”
Ivy sits on the edge of the nest, holding II in his lap. His arms feel heavy. Shaky. Tired.
His body still doesn’t feel the same.
“Are you… sure you’re not mad?” II asks through a hissed breath. Warm breath dancing over his skin.
Ivy smiles, burying his face against II’s shoulder. Processing. Thinking. Imagining something he never expected for himself. For them. Something that he never thought he’d have. Something that he… doesn’t mind the thought of.
“Not mad,” Ivy assures him, adjusting his grip on his mate’s body. Holding him close. His limbs hurt. His mind is a haze. But there's nothing more important to him than this. II's comfort. His safety. “I'm not mad at all. I want this if you do.”
II squeezes him tighter. Nervous. Scared. Uncertain.
Ivy’s always been a pillar. Unshaken. Unmoving. He vows to be that once again.
Even if his body is still failing him. He will not fail this.
-
The sun sets.
The temperature drops. The venue is packed, buzzing with excited fans and photographers. Security lines the barricade. Directs the flow of people. Thousands of them.
Ivy lazily strums his guitar. His first one. The one his parents bought him. The one that Vessel brought on the bus in a bid to make him comfortable. To make him feel at home. Ivy rolls his neck to the side, watching through blurry eyes as III slowly removes his outfit from its protective covering.
“Going for something dramatic tonight, I see,” II teases, smiling smugly from where he sits perched in Vessel’s lap.
“Dramatic? Hardly,” III scoffs playfully. “This is the tamer option, little love.”
“What were you going to wear?” II asks with a snort as Ivy languidly strokes a discordant note. He winces from the sound. It rings in his ears. Lingers there a beat too long. He breathes in slowly. Exhales even slower.
It takes more effort than it should.
“Ivy,” Vessel interjects, silencing their chatter. Ivy slowly raises his head. Meets Vessel’s intense gaze. Eyes deep brown. Assessing. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
“I’m fine,” Ivy assures him, offering his mate a smile, “really, I am.”
“Your scent is… still off,” III notes as he carefully hangs up his attire for the performance. “Your emotions are also… muted. Even for me. It’s hard to… describe. I don't like this, love.”
III frowns. Ivy sighs, setting his guitar aside. Standing from his chair. He wills his legs steady as he approaches his chosen mate.
“I’m recovering,” Ivy tells III, reaching for his hand. Lacing his fingers together with the Empath’s lithe ones. Ivy feels his familiar calluses. Grins a little wider. “The three of you can’t get sick from illnesses, only instincts. I’m sure it’s just a side effect from the pneumonia.”
III offers him a look. Doubt dances in blue-green eyes. Hearthsmoke snuffs out. Ivy squeezes III’s hand tighter.
“I’m sorry that you’re worried about me,” Ivy says sincerely. Brushes his thumb lovingly over the back of III’s hand. “I don’t have all the answers, but the medicine the doctor gave me is almost gone. I’ve been taking it every day, remember?”
“I know you have,” III replies with a slight upturn of his lips. Ivy watches the crinkles form in the corners of his eyes. It’s always been his favorite feature on III. The thing he looks for. The thing he envisions when he thinks of the Empath. The very thing that makes his heart beat a little quicker in his chest.
“You’ve taken good care of me,” Ivy exhales, stepping into III’s chest. Burying his face in his mate’s shirt, breathing in his comforting scent. Muted as it is. “Thank you.”
“I love you,” III breathes out. Ivy smiles into his chest. Feels III’s arms encircle him as they drop their joined hands. III holds him close. Cages his body in. His Alpha doesn’t grumble in protest. It doesn’t make any sound at all. Doesn’t rise. Doesn’t awaken. Ivy doesn’t question why. Chalks it up to familiarity. “In sickness and in health. All that corny stuff.”
Ivy chuckles. His throat aches from the sound. He hides it behind another smile.
“How romantic,” he murmurs, letting III rock them back and forth. He doesn’t protest. The ground tilts beneath him. But III’s steady arms keep him aloft. Keep him upright. Ivy’s grateful they don’t notice. Can’t stomach the idea of being alone on the bus again. Seeing someone else in his place on the stage.
Can’t stand the thought of seeing his mates flashing another four with their hands, pinned to the vine above their nest.
“Something is off,” Vessel grumbles. Nearly a growl. Ivy stills. Freezes when III does. Turns his head in time to watch Vessel sniff the air. Grimacing. “Your scent is getting weaker, not stronger. I can’t feel you well. Neither can II. If III still can’t, then something is wrong.”
“Vessel,” Ivy sighs deeply, shaking his head. “I’m okay, seriously. I'm a little tired, and my body is definitely sore, but I’m doing better. I’m not hacking up my lungs anymore. I’ve slept through the night for three days straight. Let me do this.”
Vessel’s upper lip twitches upward. The barest hint of a snarl. Ivy wonders why his Alpha remains silent. Doesn’t vocalize it. Covers it up with a huff.
“I’ll take it easy,” Ivy promises him, reluctantly placating his mate. Reluctantly seeking his permission. Something he never once thought he’d come to terms with. Something he accepts now. Anything to see the war in Vessel’s eyes come to an end. To see his mate smile again.
“Let him try, Ve,” II says, gently headbutting their mate. Vessel whines. Melts. Relaxes.
And for a moment, Ivy is back in London. Sitting in a cafe, sipping overpriced coffee as Vessel and II sit across from him. Discussing the terms of his employment. Laying the groundwork for something that none of them knew would become something more. Something precious to them. Something important to them all.
Ivy blinks. His vision blurs a little. He clears his throat, laying his head on III’s chest again.
“Let me do the vocals,” Vessel demands, shaking his head. “You can play, but stand still. Don’t back me up. Don’t chase III around or let him pull you to your knees. Leave the girls alone and stay off their riser. Stand still and play.”
“That’s boring,” Ivy bemoans. II’s scent flares.
Ivy then remembers their conversation. Their secret. II’s wariness. His reluctant reveal.
The negative test.
II’s… acceptance.
How difficult had that been for him to admit? Ivy wonders. Regrets not asking.
II… pregnant. Ivy can see it. Envision it with ease. His mate’s skin glowing with golden hues. His eyes glimmering. His hair shining. His stomach swelling. Growing firmer. Growing life. A life they created. A life they would love more than life itself.
He imagines the road. The music. Tries to imagine how it would all work. Touring with a pup. Making a safe space for them. Keeping them close. He knows the crew would love them. Knows III would be constantly aware of their needs. Loving. Knows Vessel would be smitten. Protective. Knows II would be an incredible parent, even if he was reluctant to give into his instinctual wants.
Reluctant, but not entirely unwilling.
He realizes then, for the first time, that fear of loss isn’t the same as not wanting it at all.
That maybe there doesn’t need to be a hard-line cutting off the possibility. The divide.
Vessel has wanted this for years. III, reluctant as he is, would be wonderful at it. And II…
Ivy thinks maybe II isn’t afraid anymore, of saying what he wants. Even if it is done through actions and not words. A snarl instead of a no. The refusal to think that the potential life he might carry is anything but precious and worth protecting.
Ivy feels his Alpha stir then. Lift its tired head.
He wonders how he’d be if it were true. If II really is carrying a life within him. He wonders if he’d be any good as a father. If he’d be like his own father and be fair, but firm. If II would be soft and sweet with their pup, just as Ivy’s mother was with him. Even now. Even though he’s grown. And away…
So… far… away…
“Ivy.”
He blinks, shaking his head. Clearing his thoughts. Offering Vessel his undivided attention as his mate comes to a halt before him.
“I’m not going back to the bus,” Ivy says pointedly, determination glinting in his gaze. Vessel’s eyes narrow at the challenge. But Ivy doesn’t back down. Can’t back down. Not now. Not when he has something to prove. Not to his mates. But to himself. “I’ll stand still and play if that’s what you want. But I’m not pinning someone else’s photo above our nest again.”
Vessel lets out a tired sigh.
“I… can’t read you right now,” Vessel confesses, scent swelling before receding. The ocean’s tide slowly pulled away. Ivy slips from III’s arms, reaching for his mate’s neck. Vessel lets himself be guided down. Lets Ivy rest their foreheads together. “I’m… worried about you.”
“I’ll take it easy,” Ivy promises him. But Vessel frowns all the same.
“Your head is warm again,” Vessel notes. But Ivy merely snorts, playfully headbutting his mate back.
“You’re sweating, Vessel,” Ivy laughs quietly in spite of the itch in the back of his throat. “It’s hot here, love.”
He can’t be seen as weak again.
He won’t hold them back.
Won’t disappoint them.
Won’t become someone who can’t pull his weight.
Won’t become a Guardian Alpha incapable of guarding anything at all.
Harmony reaches him. Stronger than before. Tempered by something. Emboldened by II.
Ivy can feel his worry. But above all, he can feels his mate’s desire for no further discord. He curses himself inwardly. Grounds himself. Focuses. Shakes awake his lethargic Alpha. Reminds himself to do research on medication and its effects on instincts when the show is over.
II doesn’t need this right now. Them disagreeing. Butting heads.
Two bull-headed Alphas who struggle to back down.
Vessel’s brow furrows. Ivy knows he can feel it, too. He wonders what Vessel chalks it up to. Assumes that it’s stress. Knows from experience, and from being told, that Vessel worries about II’s stress on the road above all else.
Ivy can’t tell him the real reason. Can only steel himself. His resolve. Hope that Vessel backs down. If not for his sake, than for II’s.
He can see Vessel’s reluctance. The hesitancy. But in the end, his mate crumbles. Giving into II’s incessant call for peace.
Ivy lets out a relieved sigh. Reminds himself to thank II for it later.
Wants to lie his head on his mate’s stomach, listening for a sound he cannot hear. Whether it is truly there or not.
He swallows thickly.
“Promise me you’ll let us know if you need to stop?” Vessel questions with a slight lilt. Ivy can sense his doubt. See the war in his eyes. Smell the concern in his scent. When Harmony reaches for them both, Ivy uses more energy than should be necessary to take its offered hand.
“I will,” Ivy confirms, kissing Vessel’s cheek.
His mind is in a million different places. His sore body is only in one, held together by Vessel’s strong embrace.
-
The stage lights dim, and for a moment, Ivy is back in Cardiff.
The bar is dimly lit. Jack’s energetic voice fills his ears. Ivy can’t discern his words. Hears it as a faint grumble. A boisterous laugh pierces the silence. Gethin, smiling from behind the bar. Owen jams an elbow into his ribs. Points at Bryn as they unpack their gear, preparing for another show to a packed house.
He blinks. Snaps back to reality at the sound of a thunderous applause. He scans the horizon. The endless sea of blurry faces. There’s thousands of them.
His mask sticks to his skin.
He grips the neck of his guitar, swallowing thickly.
Sweat pours down his brow like rain. Drenches his shirt. His suit. His skin. He must look dazzling on stage. Fabric shimmering with sparkles underneath the spotlights. They blind him as he plays. Methodical. Muscle memory. He’s hardly thinking at all.
He stands still. Remains in place. Adheres to his promise to Vessel.
But the world feels like it’s shifting beneath him. Like the stage is swallowing him whole.
He opens his mouth to sing. Forgets the words of the song even if his fingers could never forget the chords. He realizes a moment too late that the song he sings is one of his own. Something written long before his mates came into his life.
A song about nothing happy.
He never did write any happy songs, in hindsight.
He closes his mouth. Feels his throat ache. Scratch. He’s burning up. Sweltering underneath his stagewear. Suffocating beneath his mask. Drowning in his own sweat. His teeth grind together.
Someone nudges his back. Ivy quickly turns his head. Too quickly.
The world spins.
III’s eyes pierce through his mask. Worry. Concern.
Ivy shakes his head. Swallows thickly. Focuses as he tightens his grip on his guitar.
He doesn’t mess up his solo. He hits every note even if his fingers ache through it. Even if his arms grow heavier by the second.
The crowd cheers again.
Ivy tries to remember how he got here.
He thinks of II. Smiles beneath the silicone that presses against his lips.
He thinks of II drumming behind him. Thinks of him standing outside their studio in London, drowning in one of his mate’s hoodies. Thinks of the smell of his heat and how it took him by surprise back then. Thinks of how II fell for him, remembering III’s words when the Empath told him exactly when II had fallen in love with him.
The moment that Ivy stepped in front of him on stage.
Ivy clears his throat, turning his head away from the microphone. A tech scurries by him. He forgets her name. She has dark hair. A beaming smile.
She reminds him of Alys.
He wonders how she’s doing. How the baby is developing.
Ivy wonders if II is pregnant. Carrying their own child. He smiles a bit wider, handing over his guitar with a slight sway. He thinks that he’d like that, for his child and Alys’s to grow up together. To share memories. Experiences. New sights and sounds.
Just like he and his sister did, all those years ago.
He reaches for his first guitar as the tech offers it to him.
He sees his mam’s smiling face. Younger than she is now. Sees his tad, giggling as Ivy unwraps his birthday present. His first guitar. The first big gift his parents ever got him. His prized possession then. One of his prized possessions now. He learned to play on it. He wrote song after song on it. He played it in pubs and bars until he could afford something better.
No instrument ever felt the same.
He holds it close to him. Tastes metal in the back of his throat, coating his tongue. Nausea grips him. Sweat continues to saturate his clothes. His body trembles. His lips are dry.
He misses his family.
Misses his mam. His tad. His brother. His sister. He misses Jack, his best friend. He misses Bryn. Misses who Ieuan used to be. He even misses Owen.
Vessel circles him as the house lights dim. His mate’s scent is a monsoon, sweeping over the stage. Ivy can’t see Vessel’s eyes, but he can feel his gaze. He stands a little straighter. Fetches another pick from his pocket when he drops his own. He doesn’t see where it lands.
He can hardly see anything at all.
His fingers dance over the strings, playing a somber tune.
Missing Limbs.
He’s always liked that song. Always thought it was one of Vessel’s best. Raw. Poetic. Painful. Something relatable. Something real.
He tries to straighten up. To stand a little taller. He stumbles.
Vessel’s voice fills his ears. But it sounds so distant. So far away.
It’s a miracle he’s still standing, Ivy realizes as the world beneath him sways. He moves as if the tide has taken him. Adrift. Alone. At the mercy of an endless, bottomless sea.
Something is wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. But it’s far too late to make a difference now.
Panic.
Fear.
Realization.
The stage fades away. Bright spots fill his vision. The lights above him flare with halos, piercing the venue’s darkness. Searing his eyes. He’s always been so easily swayed by the things that he wants. The things that he desires. Too eager to put himself in harm’s way.
He’s always known he’s needed something worth dying for.
He doesn’t want it, not like this.
For a moment, he’s back in their nest. Their real nest, back in London. II is sleepily curled up beside him, nuzzling into his neck. Sweet and affectionate with the sunrise. Lavender scent curling in his nostrils. Searing its way to his heart. To his memory.
III is sprawled out behind II, lazily stroking their Omega’s unruly bedhead. Blue-green eyes meet his own, peeking over II’s head. Ivy can feel himself smile when III does. Loses himself in the crinkling of his eyes. In the gentle scent of cedarwood. In the smoke from III’s fire.
Vessel lies down behind Ivy, strong arms seizing him and holding him close. Ivy melts into the contact. Into the feeling of being sheltered. Willingly drowns in Vessel’s sea. He feels comfortable here. Happy. Loved. Safe.
Like he’s finally earned his permanence. Like he’s finally earned his place.
In their pack. In their lives. In his own.
Vessel’s voice pierces the sound system. Pulls him from his reverie. Ivy realizes then he can’t breathe. That his skin is far too hot and constricting. That the sweat that pours off his brow and saturates his clothes is far from a side effect of the mid-summer Texas heat.
He’s beyond unwell.
It feels like he’s dying.
Like his body is shutting down. Like his life is flashing before his eyes. Like he’s fading out of consciousness.
Like he’s…
… losing himself.
His hand drops from his guitar.
…
Static pierces his ears.
…
A sharp, incessant ringing.
…
…
He can’t feel the ground beneath his feet anymore.
…
…
…
He’s never been afraid of anything.
…
…
…
He’s petrified.
…
…
He’s… dying.
…
“Vessel, I… think I need… to stop,” he lets out a broken sound, reaching helplessly for his mate. Reaching across the mattress in his mind’s eye. Reaching across the cafe table back in London. Reaching across the center console in the rental car that took them to the fishing cabin back in Ireland. He reaches for Vessel as if it’s enough to save him.
He hits the ground. Hard.
His guitar shatters beneath him.
He can’t even smell his own scent anymore.
He wonders once more how he got here.
Blinded by his own desire.
Ignorant of his own health, just as he’s always been.
Desperate to prove himself.
Desperate for meaning.
Desperate for…
… approval.
…
…
Desperate for…
… love.
The sound of his broken guitar shattering fills his ears.
He fades out of consciousness to the sound of his own name…
Ivy.
-
Static.
Ringing.
The sound of three deafening screams.
One is his own.
Vessel moves before he can think. Before he can process what’s happening. His body acts on instinct. Honed to perfection. Stifled as it is. Imperfect as he is. None of that matters. Not now. Not when the sound of shattering wood and snapping strings fills the air. A broken, hoarse call of his name.
He shouldn’t have been able to hear it. Not above the crowd. But Vessel would always be able to hear them. His mates. His everything.
His.
“I need fucking help over here!”
He doesn’t recognize the sound of his own voice. Doesn’t care if it’s a command. Doesn’t care if it silences the already shocked crowd.
He doesn’t catch Ivy.
He’ll never forgive himself for it.
Holds his mate close to his chest as III collapses to his knees beside him and peels away broken parts of his guitar. III is shaking. Sobbing. Just as destroyed as the guitar in his hands is.
And II…
Vessel will never forget the horror in II’s voice.
The agony. The searing pain. The absolute terror.
II’s scent is fetid. Rotten. Rancid. Beyond sour. Beyond anything he’s ever smelled before.
Even worse than it had been when Fore had left him, dying in their nest. Abandoned.
II claws at his arms. His back. Desperate to see a sight that Vessel doesn’t want to subject him to.
But… he can’t protect II from everything. Can’t protect him from heartbreak. From fear. Not when he himself feels it. Not when III is just as devastated as he is. Unable to help them process.
Vessel shields Ivy’s face from the crowd as he rips his mate’s mask off, exposing his pallid skin. There's black paint around his eyes. But they're screwed shut. A gasp escapes the Guardian Alpha’s lips. Vessel could practically cry from relief. Doesn’t. Can’t. Not when III is sobbing beside him. Not when II collapses against him and wails. A sound so gutwrenching that Vessel’s Alpha can hardly stomach it.
Gloved hands encroach on his vision as the house lights come on in full. Beaming down on them. Illuminating them in the darkness.
He growls lowly. The lowest pitched sound he’s ever made.
Barely human.
He’s never felt like one, anyway. Too big. Too menacing without effort. Monstrous.
Everything II spent so long convincing him he wasn't.
Everything III spent so long disproving with his unabashed love and trust.
Everything Ivy spent so long disproving with fierce loyalty and adoration. Even after everything they put him through.
Vessel wants to take it back. Every unpleasant memory. Every worry. Every pain. Every negative thought.
He wants to protect this. A thing that cannot be mended by his hands. But rather, by the hands that reach hesitantly towards his own.
Medics, he realizes.
Forces himself to let go.
It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. Up there with the time where he licked Fore’s claim off of II’s sweat-dampened, swollen skin.
Vessel growls once more. Surges forward. Alpha in full control. Mindless. Every bit the monstrous Alpha that the outside world believes him to be.
He sinks his teeth into Ivy’s neck. Bites down hard. Holds him there. Gripping him from the opposite side of his scent gland, injecting wave after wave of venom into his mate’s searing skin. Ivy’s body shivers. II sobs into his back, clawing at his arms. III cradles the broken pieces of Ivy’s guitar. Hands trembling. Horror in his teary eyes, nearly swallowed whole by his mask.
Vessel feels tears prick his eyes in his desperation. Wants to crumble. To break. To crack. Feels nothing but guilt and shame. Anger at himself.
He’d let himself be convinced that Ivy was fine.
Couldn’t discern his state of being behind the veil of sickness. He knows every instinct like the back of his hand. Can read every subtle shift and change. Knows that II’s hiding something from him and has been for days. Knows that Ivy’s hiding many somethings.
But he never expected this.
He cannot feel an illness, one borne from a common threat all people faced besides himself and his.
He wishes he would have claimed Ivy sooner. Found him sooner. Wishes he could rewrite their history. Bring Ivy to him sooner.
He can’t lose him.
Won’t lose him.
They’d never survive the loss.
Even if Ivy’s claim was removed from their skin, they’d never heal. Never smile. Never laugh. Never feel the urge to want to simply be again.
Vessel needs him like he needs air. Bites down harder even as the medics ask him to let go. Say that they need to take him.
“Vessel, please,” II sobs. Whines. Hisses. A combination of every horrible sound all at once. It’s the only thing that gets him to release him. Gets him to let go of his mate’s skin as blood soaks his mouth and teeth.
It doesn’t taste any different.
More copper. More iron. More of the same.
“Help me move him,” someone says.
“He’s barely breathing,” says another.
Vessel can barely think, let alone form a coherent thought. The medics shield Ivy’s face, lifting him onto a board. Vessel sweeps II up in an instant. Cradles him. Pulls III up from the ground with a strength that’s never felt like his own.
There’s a sea of faces around him. All looking up at him in horror. Some are in tears. Some are taking photos.
He bares his teeth in distaste without meaning to. Mindlessly guides his mates to safety as he follows after the medics who lift Ivy from the stage. They lie him down on a gurney the moment that they duck behind the curtain.
Vessel watches them in a daze. His scent rolls off of him in uneasy waves as II cries into his skin. Shivering. Sniffling. Whining. Begging for something Vessel can’t give him.
Begging for Ivy.
III’s head finds a home against his own. Vessel nuzzles into him. Incapable of much else. Leaning into III’s shaking arms as they encircle him.
A medic breaks the seal on a plastic tube. Vessel can’t bring himself to look away as they snake it down his mate’s throat, forcing it open. Forcing him to breathe as they constrict a bag above his face, pumping air into his lungs. Vessel feels sick to his stomach. Horrified.
Please, don’t take him. Please, don’t take him. Please, don’t take him. Please, don’t take him.
He doesn’t know who he prays to. He’s never believed in any god.
But he begs the universe itself for an improbability. Desperate for his mate to open his eyes. Desperate to hear his laugh.
See his smile.
Feel his touch.
Something.
Anything.
Anything but… this.
“We have to take him,” a medic woman says with urgency in her tone. “One of you can ride with us. The others will have to follow.”
“No, no, no,” II begs, gripping onto his neck tighter. Nails digging in. Sweaty. Shaking. Bond radiating with sheer overwhelm. Panic. Fear. “Please… please. I… I can’t… Vessel, I can’t…”
“II,” Vessel manages out, voice steady but rife with pain. To his own ears, he sounds devastated. He is. Torn asunder. Lamenting. Broken. But II needs him. III needs him.
Ivy needs him.
“Take him, III,” Vessel instructs his other mate. Winces. Grimaces. Feels every bit a horrible mate as II screams his name and claws at his neck, desperate to hang on to him. “Get Sam to get a car and meet us at…”
“Central Dallas Emergency Department,” the male medic answers, loading Ivy’s stretcher onto the back of the ambulance. Vessel follows after him. Doesn’t wait for an invitation. Only climbs aboard.
“Everything will be fine,” Vessel tells III, who shakily holds a thrashing II in his arms. III’s eyes are wide. Blue-green and gleaming. Scent muted. Bond radiating sheer agony. Vessel grits his teeth. He wishes he could fix it. Wishes he could make the pain stop.
He just wants to take his mates home. Back to London. Keep them safe and sound. Have them all be whole and healthy in his arms. In his bed. At his side. Always at his side.
But there’s no use in that now.
He trusts III to keep II safe. Trusts Sam to get them there. He turns his attention back to where it is needed the most.
Back to Ivy.
Pale.
Sweating.
Amber and sun warmed leather completely absent. Scent gone entirely.
Bond silent.
Body still.
Not breathing on his own.
Dying in the back of an ambulance, thousands of kilometers away from home.
Vessel swallows thickly. Clears his throat. Tastes blood on his teeth as he takes Ivy’s hand and squeezes it with his own. Ivy doesn’t squeeze him back. Vessel’s heart shatters. Blood drips down his forearms where II’s nails had dug into his skin. Red fading into black.
As the doors to the ambulance slam shut, Vessel hears one final call.
A heart shattering scream from II. A sound that will haunt him until the end of his days.
He hears his own name as it echoes off of the venue’s acoustic walls.
Vessel.
-
The emergency department is a nightmare.
Overwhelming. Crowded. Filled to the brim with people sick. People crying. People worried over their loved ones. People dying.
Vessel has always been more than keenly aware of the amount of space that he occupies. The way that the air shifts around him. The way that he can’t mask his scent. His presence.
He doesn’t have the wherewithal to imagine it. How he must look right now as he paces the entire length of the room. Dressed head to toe in his stagewear. Full costume. Streaking body paint. Mask on his face. Hood over his head.
People avoid him on instinct, even when he isn’t dressed like this. Even when he wears simple street clothes. People scamper away from him now. Refuse to meet his obscured gaze. Refuse to look at him.
He’s sure the hospital policy has something written against this. Against his state of dress. But not even the hospital security guard says a word to him. He doesn’t even look up as Vessel passes him. Vessel knows why.
He’s not the one in the driver’s seat. Not the one in full control. His Alpha pilots his skin. Drives his body down the length of the room. Then back again. Pacing. Heart racing. Blood pumping. Adrenaline coursing in his veins. Dread settled in his chest. In his heart.
He doesn’t hear his name called. He doesn’t need to. Knows the second that II and III enter the emergency wing.
Vessel spins on his heel. Catches II in his arms and hoists his mate up as II clambers up, climbing him like a tree. II is shaking. Teeth chattering. Hands sweaty and trembling as they wind around his neck. Vessel secures him in his arms. Holds his weight with one hand, and cradles II’s head with the other.
There’s paint still flaking on II’s skin, but it’s been scrubbed down. The handiwork of baby wipes and elbow grease. II’s still dressed in his stagewear. So is III. Eyes red-rimmed. Bleary. His red, velveteen coat stands out in stark contrast to the hospital’s white walls. Vessel nods him over. Silent. Afraid to speak. Not trusting his voice.
He needs to be strong now. Be their pillar of support. Their unshakable foundation. Their fearless leader.
He’s terrified.
He can’t let it show.
“Have…” III speaks, voice shaking as he approaches. Lays a hand on II’s back before all but collapsing against their little mate. Vessel steadies them both, dragging them both in. “Have you heard… anything at all?”
Vessel swallows thickly. Prays to whatever gods might be listening so that his voice doesn’t crack.
It doesn’t.
Sounds firm to his own ears. Deep. Level. Controlled even if he’s spiraling. Even if he’s falling apart at the seams.
“No, not a word,” he answers steadily. Lets himself be guided backward. Trusts III to lead them. Stops when his back hits the nearby wall. II’s tears soak his skin, coating his neck. Vessel breathes in deep. Steeling himself. Lets his scent wash over his mates in an effort to calm them both down.
He hopes it works.
Knows that it won’t. That nothing will. No. Not until they have answers. Not until they know why.
Not until they have Ivy with them once again.
“This… this is my fault,” II whispers brokenly into Vessel’s scent gland. Whining. Scent erratic. Sweet. Then sour. Fading. Flickering. The agony in their bond knows no end. No depths. Vessel knows pain. He doesn’t know it quite like this. “I… oh gods, I used… Harmony. I didn’t… want you two to fight. I… I’m the reason… the reason that he-”
“Don’t you dare do that,” III begs II, nosing at their little mate’s hair. “Don’t you dare start blaming yourself.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Vessel assures him, kissing the top of II’s head. Kissing III’s brow a moment later. He hopes his mask doesn’t dig into their skin. If it does, neither of them complain. “I’m the one who agreed to this. To let him play. I knew something was off. But I… I never knew it was something like this.”
Vessel has never regretted anything more in his life. Letting Ivy on that stage. Letting his mate push himself.
He needs answers.
Needs assurances.
The thick metal doors to the emergency ward swing open. A man in a white coat walks out, lowering his mask. Calling a familiar name.
“Ivy Gwilym.”
Vessel surges forward. III stumbles back. Grips Vessel’s arm as II slides from his grasp. The doctor faces them. Keeps his eyes kind in spite of their state of dress. In spite of how bizarre they must look. How panicked. In spite of Vessel’s overwhelming presence.
“He’s our mate,” Vessel says, licking his dry lips. Tasting Ivy’s blood. Tasting the peeling paint. “How is he? What’s wrong with him?”
“Please, come with me,” the doctor asks them, motioning towards a nearby closed door.
Vessel’s heart sinks. II’s tears start once more. III sucks in a hissed breath. Silently, despondently, they follow.
The room is bland. White walls. Eight chairs. One table. A box of tissues.
Vessel wants to scream.
He grips III’s hand instead. Wraps his other arm around II, reeling him in. None of them sit. Sitting means bad news.
And they can’t take that. Not now. Not ever. Not when it comes to one of their mates. Not when it comes to their beloved Guardian. Their protector. Their headstrong partner.
The love of their collective lives.
“Currently, your mate is in critical condition,” the man explains. Dr. Greene, his name badge reads. Vessel swallows thickly. Licks his dry lips once again, trying to wet them. Fails. II shakes in his hold. III slumps against him. Vessel stands tall. He has no other option. “We’ve run an extensive bloodwork panel, but we suspect sepsis as the culprit. The pneumonia is still present in his lungs. If he’s finished his prescription, there’s a real possibility that it can be an antibiotic resistant strain.”
“He… never got any better?” Vessel asks, heart sinking. Blood pumping in his ears. Ringing.
He can still hear Ivy’s pained words. His plea. The sound of his guitar shattering as it hit the stage.
As his body hit the stage along with it.
He wishes he would have caught him, just to feel him in his arms for a little while longer.
“It’s unlikely,” Dr. Greene confirms with a saddened smile. “We intubated him to maintain his airway. But we will need your permission,” the doctor looks at Vessel, “for his continued treatment. As of now, he is… in a very precarious state. I wish that I could tell you that he will make a full recovery. But as of now, I cannot promise you that.”
“Do whatever you need to do,” Vessel growls, startling the Beta man before him. “Keep him alive.”
Silence stretches. Time dilates. Vessel’s ears ring. Crinkling with static.
“We will do everything in our power to treat him,” Dr. Greene assures him with a stern nod of his head. “But as of now… if he has any family, they need to get here. Now.” II sobs. III curses, burying his head in his hands. Vessel blinks. Teeth grinding. Hands shaking. “I would get them here as soon as possible.”
“They don’t have… passports,” II bites out. Choking on his cries. Collapsing into Vessel’s side.
Vessel reminds himself to breathe. To stay calm. To not show how much pain he’s in. To not upset his mates further.
But inside, it feels like he’s the one dying.
Above everything, Vessel wants to fix this. Take his mates home. All of them. Keep them safe. Keep them close. Keep them… alive.
Once more, as it so often has in the past, the universe reminds Vessel that the things that he wants don’t matter.
They never have.
Notes:
Chapter Warnings: Heavy angst. Mentions of medical complications/history of illnesses. Depictions of serious illness. Mentions of potential pregnancy. POV switch.
-
Buckle up, folks. Oh, and trust the process. Trust me to deliver. I know where we're going. Walk with me here. <3
Chapter 23: Lullaby
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Heavy angst continues. Severe illness and hospitals, as well. Warning that just in case. <3
I will say nothing else so that we can avoid spoilers.
7.7k words. Another long chapter awaits.
Notes:
Before we begin, allow me to thank you all for the amazing support on this fic. Over 600 kudos and 1,000 comments in less than 2 months. I am truly blown away. You all are incredible. I will be doing my best to respond to each and every comment left on the previous chapter. But do know that I have already read them. Your support means a lot. :,)
A special thank you goes out to the insanely kind and incredibly helpful andfluorescentlights for helping me with the medical side of this fic. This arc holds a deeply personal meaning to me based on some of my own life experiences. You helped me refine that. You have my thanks, sincerely. :)
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be crying over my docs. Hating my life. Editing my own work is hell. You're incredible! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
As always, take care and enjoy!
Chapter Text
Comatose.
A medically induced coma. Septic shock. Antibiotic-resistant pneumonia. Ivy's body… shutting down.
Vessel flinches as II gently wipes the warm washcloth across his face again. Wiping away the last of the black pigment. II's eyes are teary. Bloodshot. His hands, shaking. Vessel catches them in his own, holding his little mate's gaze.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. Forcing himself to smile. To remain calm. He knows his expression is hollow. But II sniffles and nods all the same.
Vessel knows he's hiding something.
He knows better than to pry. Won't do that now. Can't. Not when Ivy is fighting for his life across the hallway. Not when II’s scent remains uncontrolled, unsteady. Sweet, then sour. Disorienting. Their bond continues to pulsate with wave after wave of raw agony.
There's not enough scent neutralizer in the world to rid Vessel’s nostrils of his mate's distressed scents.
It's agonizing.
Vessel needs to see Ivy. Verify that he's alive with his own two eyes. But he forces himself to wait. To be patient. Puts his faith in the hands of the doctors who tend to Ivy in the other room.
“We… we need to call his family,” III breathes out from where he sits. All but collapsed in the chair beside them. Sprawled out. Knees bouncing. Gaze forlorn and serious. Bond exuding something Vessel’s never felt coming from III before.
Numbness.
“I'll handle that,” Vessel breathes out. Gritting his teeth. Dreading the inevitable conversation. The heartbreak that was still yet to come. But he knows it’s his duty. To his mates. To Ivy. To their pack. His. “Is Sam…?”
“He's on his way back with the rest of our things,” III says through a muffled cry, quieted by his lips pressing against his jacket sleeve. Their duffel bags lie at their feet. Stuffed with scarce few belongings. A change of clothes. Their phones. Chargers. Things Sam grabbed in a hurry on his second trip to the Emergency department.
II grabs his hands, pulling him from his reverie.
“I… hurt you,” II speaks so softly that his words are almost indiscernible. Vessel has to lower his gaze. Follow II’s eyes to see where they land on his skin. To the deep cuts that line his forearms, encircling them in places. Sprawling down the length of his entire arm in others. He doesn’t feel the pain. Not even when II tenderly brushes his fingers over it.
Tears well in II’s eyes as he raises Vessel’s left arm. The one that bears the worst of the frantically made scratches. II nuzzles into the scent gland on his wrist, choking out a bitter sob.
“Sorry,” II’s voice squeaks. Whines like a wounded animal. The sound alone is devastating. The genuine remorse is even worse. Vessel resists the urge to frown. To sigh. Only pulls his arm free and scoops II up in his embrace, pulling him into his chest.
II settles into his lap. Scrambles a moment later to take his arm back in hand and continue his loving assault of Vessel’s skin. III offers him a look, one that says far more than words ever could. Vessel beckons him over silently, using his eyes as a means to his end. III joins them on the couch, wrapping his arms around both Vessel and II as they bask in the deafening silence.
The door creaks open a moment later. A mousy Beta woman tentatively enters. Vessel tenses. Feels his mates do the same as she quietly shuts the door behind her.
“You can see him now,” the nurse, Amanda, says with a hesitant smile. Vessel is on his feet in the blink of an eye. II slides down his body. Stumbles into his chest as the drummer spins on his heel. III joins them, placing a trembling hand on Vessel’s shoulder.
He nods solemnly before looking at his mates.
“Get your things,” he instructs them. His voice sounds hollow. Dull. Far from his usual presence. Far from his usual tone. He grabs his own bag, as well as II's, and chucks the fallen, blackened wash rag onto the nearby counter. Ivy’s phone sits in his pocket. It feels like lead against his thigh.
Amanda leads them down the sterile hallway. Scent neutralizers sting Vessel's nose. He can't bring himself to care as they enter the ICU ward through the double doors.
“Visitors and overnight guests are limited to one,” Amanda informs them as they pass the nurse's station. Vessel growls on instinct. Low. Grumbling. Droning. Every head in the ward turns to him. Every gaze avoids his own but a moment later.
“That won't do,” Vessel says with emphasis. Words dripping with venom in his displeasure. II's bond fluctuates, as if Harmony wishes to extend its tired hand.
It doesn't. Vessel wouldn't have been able to take it in either case.
“Right,” Amanda murmurs, shifting nervously. Eyes darting from his, moving towards the security guard in the distance. Vessel's always hated that part of himself.
How easy it was to scare people.
“We won't make a scene,” III promises, his voice a hushed whisper. It's rare for him to step in like this. To speak on their behalf. It takes Vessel by surprise. Leaves him blinking dumbly as they linger outside of the closed door.
He wonders if III knew before he did. Knew that he’d react this way.
He growls and pushes past the nurse. Barges straight through the closed door. He's grateful that even for a moment, he's alone.
His expression crumbles. His heart breaks. His scent floods the room, climbing up the sterile walls. He drops his and II’s duffel bags to the floor. The thud they make against the tile echoes in the silence.
Ivy looks every part a corpse. Lifeless. Limbs stationary. Tube crammed down his throat. Bags tucked beneath his bedding for the urges he could no longer control. His skin is pallid. His eyes are closed. He doesn't look peaceful at all.
Machines whirl. Beep. Lines drip.
For a fleeting moment, the world around Vessel is painfully silent.
Our brave, beautiful mate, his Alpha laments.
Vessel closes his eyes to drive away the tears.
“Oh, gods…” II's devastation washes over him. Echoes in time with his little mate's words. He forces his eyes open. Forces himself to watch II stumble into the room before all but collapsing at the bedside.
One of II's hands goes to Ivy's. The other, his stomach.
Vessel's mind screeches to a halt.
The deception. The uncontrollable scent. The nervousness. The need for Ivy to be nearby. It all clicks into place.
Under any other circumstances, Vessel's Alpha would be singing. Elated. Sated. Perhaps even jealous. Perhaps even feel challenged for the first time in his life.
He would have enjoyed it, every moment of it. Choking on his own pride and desires. Watching life flourish beneath II's skin. Watching his pack expand.
Vessel wants to scream.
He remains silent.
“Ivy…” III bites out. It's an equally devastated sounding thing. Heartbroken. Agonized. III's love ran deeper than anyone's. Constantly bleeding. Risking wounds that never healed. Scars that never faded. Vessel turns to him. Kisses the quiet pain that leaks from III's bloodshot eyes.
III's bond is numb. Distant. His scent a dwindling flame.
“I need you to be strong for me right now, III,” Vessel mumbles into the Empath's tear soaked skin. III's jaw trembles. His golden blond hair looks dull under the fluorescent lights. Vessel knows that III sees it. The way II holds his stomach as he sobs into Ivy's side.
Vessel's eyes meet III's, catching the Empath's periphery.
“Can you do that for me?” He asks lowly. More a grumble than a whisper. What he asks is no small feat. It kills a part of himself to demand it of his mate. But II needs this. Needs them. Has always needed them more than anything. Needs them even more now that Ivy is unable to shield him. Protect him.
Guard him.
“Go… make that call,” III answers with a hissed breath. Vessel kisses his cheek again. Mumbling his thanks into his mate's tear-streaked skin.
Vessel reluctantly pulls back. His Alpha, reeling, drags his feet to II's side. He places a hand on the small of II's back, leaning down to kiss his Omega’s brow. His cheek brushes Ivy's hand in the process. Ivy's skin feels scorching hot against the sensitive skin of his face. Vessel winces in spite of himself.
“II,” he whispers, brushing back his mate’s pale, damp locks as II buries his face further in the bedsheets. Vessel doesn’t need to look at II’s other hand to know where it is. His stomach. Hovering above the place where their little mate believed life grew. His Alpha does sing then. It isn’t a pleasant song when laced with despair. Mourning. His own searing pain. He forces it down, focusing on the pain in II’s bond as he noses the top of his mate’s head.
“I’ll be back in a second, my love,” Vessel tells him. Feels II tense before the hand from his stomach rises, gripping onto his forearm. Dull pain radiates up the length of his arm, still sore from the cuts on his skin. He doesn’t flinch. Lets II grip him tighter in his desperation. His fear. “I have to talk to his family. I’ll be in the hallway, right outside.”
“I… can’t do this, Ve,” II whispers brokenly through a sob that breaks his heart all over again. “I need… need him to…”
“I know,” Vessel shushes him, kissing the top of his littlest mate’s head once more before he hesitantly begins pulling away. II’s hands slip from his forearms in understanding. Not questioning him. Even then, understanding that it was, after all, Vessel’s say that went. Vessel’s never told them how much he hates that. How things have to be this way. The pressure on his shoulders. The weight on his mind. His heart.
He turns to Ivy. Steels himself. Buries deep the hurt and pain as he steps around II. III collapses at II’s side, nuzzling into the drummer’s skin in a bid to soothe. Vessel hates that he has to put that on III, too. Hates that the Empath can’t properly mourn the temporary loss of their other mate. But instead, must be a pillar for II in Vessel’s absence.
Vessel sighs softly, stepping around his grieving mates. Reaches for Ivy’s cheek, smiling sadly as stubble grazes his fingertips. The tube plastic is cold against his hands. He tries not to think about it as he leans down, kissing Ivy’s forehead.
“I’m here, love,” he whispers in a bid to soothe a mate who can no longer hear his words. His Alpha screams in his chest. Blinded by pain. Vessel only presses his lips back against Ivy’s skin, effectively drowning out the sound. “Come back to me soon. I can’t do this without you.”
He wants to stay there. Stay with his lips on Ivy’s skin. His hand on his cheek. Feel Ivy’s proof of life, even if the machines breathe for him.
But Vessel has things to settle. Calls to make. Friends to inform.
A tour to cancel.
He rises to his feet and quietly slips into the painfully silent hall, the sound of the heartbeat monitor echoes in his mind even as the door closes firmly behind him.
-
The sound of Ivy's mother's screams of despair will haunt Vessel until the end of his days.
He stands solemnly in the hallway, Sam at his side with the remainder of their belongings, while he listens to the shrill sounds coming from the other end of the line. He clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. Gutted. Feeling helpless.
He shouldn't have to feel this way.
His teeth and jaw ache. His body produces venom at a rapid pace, eager to inject antibodies into Ivy's skin. But he can't. The doctor's words still ring in his ears.
Ivy can't risk any further infection. He wouldn't survive it.
They can't gamble it. Risk it. Ivy's body developing immunity quicker than a new infection forms.
The sound of Ivy's mother's screams make him second guess his decision. Reluctant as it was in the first place.
“My son… he… he's been this way before,” Ivy’s mother gasps out between cries. Vessel's eyes widen. Shock floods his system. Rage. “He… oh god, I can't do this again. My sweet boy… please God, don't take him.”
“Again?” Vessel manages out through gritted teeth. Scent flaring. Lapping at the hospital's pristine white walls. Sam offers him a look that says more than words can. The idle chatter in the distance from the nurse's station falls silent.
He's always been impossible to calm down. Had to learn to walk away. To not give into his Alpha's demands of showing his ire. He's fought tooth and nail against it, time and time again. Learned to use II's Harmony. III's steady presence.
Ivy’s strength and bravery.
Without them, he falls apart in the worst of ways.
He always knew he would.
“Ivy… got sick when he was younger,” Ivy's father answers him, voice heavy with a now familiar accent. “He was in a medically induced coma for over a month. Pneumonia. Same damn thing he has now.”
Vessel sees red. Feels his fangs nick his lip. Split his skin. He slams his free hand into the wall behind him.
He's not surprised when plaster coats his skin.
“He… never told me that,” Vessel forces out. Forces himself to breathe. Sam's eyes are pleading. But he is not what he needs.
Who he needs has already shut his eyes.
Vessel wonders if he'll ever open them again.
“Of course he didn't,” Ivy's mother sniffles. “Stubborn boy, my sweet… sweet Ivy.”
Another sob. Another gut wrenching wail. Vessel lets out a shuddered breath at the sound.
“We can't get there,” Ivy's father reminds him. Vessel can hear the strain in his voice. His fear. He can hear him trying to remain calm. “You… you have to take care of our boy, Lucas. We… we will call his friends and Alys. You just keep our boy… keep him alive. Please.”
A father's plea. A mother's earth shattering scream.
Vessel will never forget the horror of those sounds.
“I will,” Vessel swears, even when he lacks the power. The ability to make his promise come to life. He can’t lose Ivy. II can't. III can't. Ivy's parents can't either. “I'll take care of him. I swear to you.”
“Thank you,” Ivy's father responds. It's the first time his voice cracks. Vessel flinches. “Is there… anything else we can do for our boy?”
“I'll give your number to the physician so that you can provide his medical history,” Vessel's voice trails off. Ire turns to ash in his mouth, coating his tongue. He smiles sadly. “Clearly, I don't know it as well as I thought I did.”
“Please… call us if anything changes,” Ivy's mother begs. Vessel breathes in deep through his nose. Flexes his fingers as plaster crumbles off his skin. His scent recedes. Sam offers him a wary smile.
Vessel's never felt so hollow.
“You have my word,” he vows, listening somberly as the line clicks dead. He lowers his phone with a sigh, looking at Sam. “How much does the label know?”
“Enough to suggest a tech stands in to replace him for the remainder,” Sam says, eyes downcast. Vessel snarls. Growls inhumanly. Sam raises his hands in mock surrender. “I told them it was your mate. I may have also told your manager to eat a dick.”
Vessel snorts at that, as grumbling a sound as it is.
“Thank you,” Vessel says sincerely. Forcing himself to breathe. To calm down. His Alpha's protests are deafening in his ears. Adrenaline courses through his veins. But he manages to maintain his facade all the same.
“I'll handle what I can and call your attorney in the morning, if you'd like?” Sam offers with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I should still be covered to speak with them on your behalf, no?”
“Yeah, never took you off the list,” Vessel informs him with a curt nod. Making for the two large suitcases that lie across the hallway from them. The remainder of their things. And Ivy's.
“I put the photos and clothespins in the top pocket,” Sam says, halting his movements with the offer of a hug. Vessel sighs as he accepts it, embracing his friend. His eyes slam shut. “I'll handle what I can. I got a hotel booked down the way. The girls are sticking around for a bit, too. Call us, Vess. We're all here for you lads.”
“You're the best, truly,” Vessel utters out. Squeezing his longtime friend one last time before seizing their suitcases. Desperate to get back to his mate's. To Ivy's bedside. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Sam says with a small smile before taking his leave.
Vessel opens the door to Ivy's room, slipping inside with the bags in tow. II lies despondently on the reclining chair, nestled on III's lap. The chair lies flush with Ivy's bedside. Their hands are wrapped around Ivy's unmoving arm, the one not connected by wires and tubes.
He should tell them that this isn't the first time Ivy's been this way. That their mate has fallen victim to this illness once before. Been placed in a sleep as quiet and dark as death itself.
“Ve… hold me, please,” II requests, letting go of Ivy's hand. Sitting up from the chair. Reaching for him. Vessel doesn't hesitate to scoop his little mate up. To offer him solace. His presence. His love. What little he has to offer II.
What little he's always had to offer the brightest light in his life. In theirs.
Ivy's heartbeat monitor beeps in a steady rhythm. III snuggles in closer to their unwillingly slumbering mate. II nuzzles into Vessel's scent gland, tears streaking both of his cheeks. II’s stomach presses against his own. He tightens his grip on their Omega.
Vessel should tell them.
But he can't bring himself to speak. Too afraid that his statuesque facade would crumble into dust from stone.
-
II makes them a nest by the bedside.
Haphazard. Lacking its usual intricacies. Crafted with warm hospital blankets and some of the linen from the tour bus. Two couches pushed together as the base. Every other detail a meticulous routine performed with haste. Comfort, an afterthought.
Ivy's scent is everywhere. His crewneck. His leather coats. His undershirts.
The Guardian's broken guitar rests in a case by his bedside. Tucked away after a night of toiling by III, who was far from a luthier and lacked the proper tools, but was determined to fix it nonetheless.
Vessel sits on the edge of Ivy's bed, holding his mate's hand. He watches the IV drip. His gaze forlorn. Exhausted. Eyes bloodshot and watery. II cried himself to sleep in III's arms an hour ago. III followed not long after.
Vessel can't sleep.
Can't think. Can hardly breathe. Function. It takes every ounce of his willpower to remain calm. Steady. The grounding presence he was meant to be for his mates. Their leader.
He thinks of II, shielding his stomach. Sobbing. Sighs as he leans down and kisses Ivy's cheek, staring angrily at the tube that protrudes from his already bruising lips.
“You smoked,” Vessel murmurs, his voice a deep rasp. A whisper. “II will never forgive himself for letting you continue if you don't wake up.”
Silence. Another steady beep from the monitor. II's soft snoring. III's quiet breaths.
Vessel grimaces.
“III is fixing your guitar,” he says simply, keeping his voice steady. “He knows how much it means to you, love. We all do.”
More deafening quiet.
He grits his teeth. Scent saturating his mate's skin. His teeth ache, longing for purchase on his skin. Throbbing with the desire to sink in. Inject their venom.
Cure him.
He reminds himself he can’t.
His Alpha begs to differ.
“You're supposed to keep me out of my head,” Vessel laughs lowly. Brokenly. Bitterly. Agonized. Another beep fills the silence. He shakily exhales. “Only you can, you know? Always so quick to protect other people, even from themselves.”
His next intake of breath is more a hiss than an inhale.
“Why couldn't you… include yourself in that, my love?” Vessel asks somberly, nosing at his mate's skin. “Why don't you see yourself as worthy of it?”
Silence.
Vessel sighs. Kissing Ivy’s cheek. Once. Then, twice. Too many times. He loses count.
Ivy's phone vibrates in Vessel’s pocket. Reluctantly, and against his Alpha's wishes, he parts. He stands quietly, escaping into the dimly lit hallway as he answers the incoming call.
“Lucas, it's Alys,” her voice fills his ears from the moment he presses it against his cheek. He blinks tiredly. Hears the pain in her voice. The exhaustion.
“Hey Alys,” he returns, his tone equally tired.
“I'm calling because… something happened on our end,” Alys says through an exhale. Vessel’s mind races. He thinks of his mate's father. His mother. Alys’s unborn child.
He doesn't think of Ivy's brother.
“Evan presented,” Alys continues, and faintly, in the background, Vessel can hear a miserable whine. Something instinctual. Never a sound he'd emit. Never a sound III would make. Or Ivy. But rather… II.
“He's an Omega,” Vessel says flatly, not quite asking.
“Yes, and the first heat has him in a bit of pain. But that's not why I'm calling,” Alys cuts herself off. He can hear the sheer amount of strain in her voice. Her anxiety. “He's… complying with everything we've told him to do. That's… that's not normal, is it?”
Vessel's jaw sets. His blood runs cold.
Their world is not an entirely kind place. Especially not to Omegas. Murph, who owns her own jewelry shop in London, and sports an unmarked neck, is an exception. Not the rule. An Endurance Omega. Unclaimable by all but a Dominant Alpha or the equally rare Sovereign Omega. Infertile. Given the same treatment by society as a whole as if she were a Beta. But she was still shunned by their community all the same.
II was not so fortunate.
It seems neither is Evan.
“That isn't normal, no,” Vessel explains through a frown. He pinches his brow. Tilts his head backward. Eyes the wary security guard in the distance. The one who's sized him up since he arrived but been too unnerved to approach him. “II… Toby… is defiant towards anyone but an Alpha during his heat.”
“Evan is… listening to our mam. Even listened to my husband,” Alys says with emphasis. “We're all Betas here, Lucas. I'm worried what that means for him.”
Pliant Omega.
A death sentence.
Easily manipulated. Easily controlled. Lacking bite. Lacking defense. Suspectible to suggestion. Preyed upon. Common. All too common.
Vessel grits his teeth, grinding them. It does nothing to stifle the ache.
Ivy would be beside himself at the news, he knows. Frowns as he thinks of his mate. Unconscious. Tube shoved down his throat, breathing for him. Body pumped full of a new medication that has the best chance of healing him.
“Jack is on the way with Bryn,” Alys sighs into the phone when he doesn't answer her. He closes his eyes. Nods even when she can't see him. “Owen is the only Alpha we know here in Cardiff besides Gethin. He… may call you. He's beside himself. Even I admit that.”
Owen.
The same Alpha who Ivy beat to a pulp in Gethin’s pub. The same Alpha who insulted his mates. All of them. Insulted him. Vessel's Alpha growls. Alys snorts dryly in response.
“He was crying,” Alys whispers softly, and that gives Vessel pause. Alphas of Owen's sub-type never shed tears. Not even for themselves. “He doesn't want…” Alys coughs. He can hear her tears. “He doesn't want the last time he saw Ivy to be a time when they fought.”
Last time.
“It won't be the last,” he grumbles, more to himself than to her. “If he's genuinely sorry, he'll put that Sentinel of his to work. Keep Evan safe by keeping watch outside the house. That is, if you think you can trust him.”
Vessel is thousands of kilometers away. Ivy incapacitated. III asleep with II in his arms, far away from London. From Cardiff.
He only knows one other Alpha with familiarity. An Alpha who caused more harm than good. An Alpha who owes him more than he can ever hope to repay.
But Vessel can't bring himself to hate Fore any longer. Wonders if Ivy would feel the same about Owen.
“We can trust him when he hasn't had a pint,” Alys sniffles. Vessel's frown deepens at the sound. “This is… a horrible twist of fate. Ivy presented… the night that Evan came home from the hospital. Mam always said Ivy must have seen something innocent that needed protecting. And now… now Evan needs him, and he… he…”
“He will recover,” Vessel tells her. Tells himself. Listens to her cry quietly as Evan whines in the background. Vessel can still hear Ivy's mother's sorrowful cries. His father's saddened voice. “Tell Owen to protect Evan if he wants to make it up to Ivy. If Evan is what I suspect, he'll… need to stay inside until… until we get back.”
“What then?” Alys questions, coughing slightly as she undoubtedly dries her eyes. Vessel doesn't want to hear her stressed. Dreads to think of what it can do to the baby.
What stress can do to the potential life in II's stomach.
His Alpha howls in disdain. Vessel remains silent.
“I move him closer to us,” Vessel explains simply. His tone leaving no room for argument. “Pliant Omega or not, he is family, extended pack, of mine. I will…” Vessel licks his aching fangs. “I will keep him safe. Your family has my word.”
“You are family,” Alys reminds him. Laughing slightly. But there is no humor in her tone. Only relief.
“I'll see about finding a place remotely,” Vessel tells her, kicking off the wall. “Someone owes me a favor that they can never hope to repay in full. But he can start by scouting out property near London.”
“Thank you, and… I'm so sorry to trouble you with this,” Alys exhales. “Please… take care of Ivy. He's… he's my best friend. My baby brother. I… I can't lose him. My baby needs their uncle.”
A fresh wave of sorrow washes over him. All consuming. Raw. Primal. His Alpha’s pain slips through his lips. A muffled growl of pain. Alys sniffles on the other end of the line as he says his goodbyes.
He doesn't hesitate to walk back into the ICU ward where his mates slumber. Two peacefully in each other's arms. One in the clutches of death. He all but collapses by the bedside, lying his wary head on Ivy's hand.
He's never felt so helpless.
The sound of the heart monitor lulls him to sleep.
-
Dignity.
Ivy was full of it. Prideful. Headstrong to a fault. Stubborn.
Vessel corrals his mates into the hallway in the early hours of the morning. Affording the nurses a moment with their ill mate, tending to his needs. Vessel hates leaving him there. Alone. Without them. But he knows Ivy wouldn't want them to see him like that.
He doesn't think III can stomach the sight either.
The Empath's eyes are swollen. Red-rimmed and bloodshot. Vessel's keen sense of smell cuts through the scent neutralizers in the air. Assessing. Evaluating his mate's condition with a simple, deep inhale.
III's flame is a dying thing. Deprived of oxygen. Suffocated.
“I'm so proud of you,” Vessel murmurs into III's neck. Knows his mate needs to hear it. His words of affirmation. Of praise. III shudders as his head rolls down, bumping against Vessel's own. “Thank you for helping II, and keeping watch while I handle the calls.”
III's sigh is the tired, strained sort.
“They're my mates, too,” III explains while Vessel hums. II shifts beside them, eyes darting to a passing nurse. Hands instinctively holding his stomach. “So are you. Don't… don't burn yourself out, Vess. We need you now more than ever, my love.”
“Don't worry about me,” Vessel asks of him. Knows III will worry all the same. Asks him anyway. Out of love. Care. Affection. Vessel's eyes flit to the side. Linger on their Omega. “II, I want you to go speak with a doctor.”
II opens his mouth to protest, but quickly shuts his lips. Vessel knows whatever expression he makes must have been unpleasant. Feels guilt wash over him until III lazily nuzzles against him, immediately soothing him.
“I… just don't want to leave him,” II manages out through a hoarse tone. His eyes are still red. Still surrounded by dark bags. His lips haven't stopped trembling since they arrived. Vessel wants nothing more than to hold him. Comfort him.
But he can't always be there for II. Not when he has their entire pack to look after. Not when the responsibility always falls on his shoulders, sagging as they are. The price of leadership, steep.
“I'll stay with Ivy,” Vessel assures him, parting from III. He kisses the crown of II's head. Soft blond waves tickle his skin. Grace his lips. Lavender curls in his nostrils. Saccharine. Overwhelmingly sweet. Vessel has long since known why. “I am being nice to you, my love. I'm looking out for you. If you…”
II lets out a hissed breath.
“If you're pregnant, II, then you need to take care of yourself. Especially now,” Vessel finishes. Bites back the pride his Alpha still sings with from the thought.
It’s always wanted this. He's always wanted it, buried it beneath his selfish desires all the same.
But he never wanted it like this.
The promise of new life, tainted by the shadow of death.
“I'll go with you, little love,” III offers as he approaches. The Empath places his hand on the small of II's back. It's the first time Vessel has smelled cedarwood in days. “Stay by your side the entire time. I promise.”
“What… whatever you decide if it's true,” Vessel forces out. A growl escapes him at the thought. His Alpha in a frenzy at the insinuation. He stifles it as best he can. Knows he fails when II's scent spikes with sadness. A sadness he never wanted to be the cause of. “You have my full support.”
“Do I?” II asks. The question rhetoric. Vessel recoils as if he's been struck. It isn't unwarranted, he knows. But it cuts deep all the same. II's eyes catch his. Panicked. Swimming with remorse. “Fuck, Ve… I… I know that you mean it. I'm… really sorry.”
“It's okay, II,” Vessel tells him with the most sincere smile he can muster. It feels hollow on his lips. He kisses III's cheek. II's brow. “I love you both. I'll keep Ivy… safe.”
He wishes he could. Says it anyway. Voices his sole want in the moment. His sole desire.
His Alpha has never faced a problem it couldn't conquer. Faces one now. It turns everything he's ever known on its head. Reels him. But he forces himself to remain calm all the same. Lets his false sense of peace exude through his bond with II. Lets III feel how much he's trying. How desperately he is.
“I… I want this,” II says, cradling his stomach. “Ivy… was the one… so I… I want him to wake up and know how much I want this. How… happy the idea makes me. I… need him to… to…”
“You don't have to say anything else, little love,” III shushes II the moment that his tears begin to fall. It's gutwrenching, seeing II like this. Brave II. Prideful. Headstrong.
Just like Ivy.
Different, but the same.
“I love you,” II sniffles, shuffling closer to them. Sandwiching himself between them. Vessel's arms meet III's, crowding their little mate into their embrace. It doesn't feel right. Doesn't feel complete. Not in Ivy’s absence.
“I'll be here,” Vessel says as he squeezes them both one final time. Reluctantly letting them go. His Alpha wants to protest. Wants to keep his mates in his sight. Afraid of what could happen in his absence.
But he can't leave Ivy’s side. And they need answers. II needs answers.
“Call me if something changes,” III requests, tucking II into his side before they depart down the hall. Vessel watches them go. Makes a phone call a moment later.
Owen answers on the second ring.
“Lucas,” Owen greets. Voice deep and rumbling. He's been crying. Vessel can hear it in the way he breathes. Unsteady. Uneven. “I'm… at Ivy's parent's house, sitting on the porch. Jack and Bryn are inside. Evan is… he's safe. Miserable, but safe.”
“I don't have any updates on our end,” Vessel says through a sigh. His head tips back. His free hand grazes the place where he inadvertently punctured the plaster on the night before. Dust coats his fingertips. The healing wounds on his forearms from II's nails ache. A physical reminder of their pain. Their desperation.
“I see,” Owen replies, and Vessel can practically hear his frown. “Lucas, mate… I'm so fucking sorry for how I acted. Ivy is like a brother to me. I was being a proper prick. Being drunk is no excuse. I… I have to make this up to him. I need him… to wake up. I need to apologize. Make this right.”
Vessel grimaces, slowly closing his eyes.
“I don't want… this to be my last memory of him,” Owen chokes on his words. Vessel knows it's no easy feat for a Sentinel Alpha to be reduced to tears. To openly sob. “Fuck, mate. I'm so sorry.”
“You're making it right,” Vessel reminds him, chewing on his bottom lip. Trapping it between sharp fangs. “You're protecting Evan. Ivy will forgive you for what happened. I know he will.”
“How I disrespected him… disrespected you and your pack,” Owen bites out, words laced with sorrow. “I’m really fucking sorry, mate. I was… jealous. Drunk, and stupid. It’s no excuse. Ivy beating my ass was a mercy. You would have been well within your rights to rip my head off. You… could have done it, too.”
Vessel chuckles, smiles a little when Owen snorts on the other end of the line. Their laughter is tired. Raw. A brief reprieve from crushing guilt and sorrow.
“Yeah, well,” Vessel starts, only for the door behind him to click open. A nurse holds it there, waiting for him. “Keep Evan safe and you and I can call it even. You can apologize to Ivy when he wakes up. Call me if they need anything. Any of them.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. Hangs up the call a moment later and stuff his phone into his pocket before he steps inside, following after the nurse.
“He’s still critical, but his condition appears more stable now,” the nurse informs him, motioning towards her nearby chart. “The doctor will be by in half an hour to assess his condition and make any adjustments necessary. We’ve got him on azithromycin for the bacterial pneumonia, and we’ve paired that with a broad range antibiotic, piperacillin-tazobactam, to address the sepsis. The lab has confirmed the strain he’s carrying, and it is resistant to penicillin. We’re moving forward with an aggressive treatment plan.”
“How long… will he have to stay like this?” Vessel asks her, offering the Beta woman a small smile. Hesitant. Forced. Anything but natural. Anything but genuine. She takes mercy on him as she gradually returns it.
“The coma is giving his body time to heal. His lungs are… in really bad shape at the moment. We don’t feel confident about his ability to breathe on his own. He will need to remain intubated until the pneumonia clears. It’s hard to say how long. Everybody heals differently. But right now… this is what’s keeping him alive.” she says, hesitantly reaching out to pat at his forearm. “Now, let me dress those wounds for you.”
He wants to refuse. To be alone with his mate. To brush back Ivy’s hair. To tell him how much he loves him. But he’s afraid that if he’s alone, that he’ll break. That II will find him that way. That III will.
Reluctantly, he nods. Sits by Ivy’s beside, staring forlornly at his mate’s face. The stubble on his cheeks. His pushed back, damp dark locks. The tube that is perched between his lips. The bruising on either side of the plastic, dark shades of purple and blue.
“I commend you,” the nurse tells him as she sits down beside him in a free seat, pointedly not touching II’s nest upon the pushed together sofas behind them. “I know this isn’t easy. No one should have to watch their loved one suffer. But you have been a pillar of strength for those mates of yours,” she hums. She reminds Vessel of his mother. His eyes slam shut. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself, too.”
“I know,” Vessel grits out. The words taste like ash on his tongue. At his side, the nurse gingerly tends to his cuts. Holding his arm aloft, slathering his skin in something that stings his wounded flesh.
“My mother always used to tell me, You can’t pour from an empty cup,” she laughs quietly. Vessel opens his eyes. Blinks. Processes her words. Thinks that maybe he needs to hear them. Maybe Ivy needs to hear them when he wakes up. And he will wake up. Vessel believes in him, his mate. His strength and determination. His ability to persevere.
“Your mother… is a smart woman,” Vessel tells her with a curt nod.
“She was,” the nurse agrees, correcting him. Vessel remains silent. His own mother is long since gone, too. He knows her pain.
But there’s nothing left to say. Only grief. Only silence.
The heartbeat monitor’s beeping fills the void in sound. Vessel wishes it was enough to fill the void within him.
-
Vessel’s phone vibrates. Once. Then, twice. Pulling him from his reverie.
He brushes Ivy’s hair back once more, fishing for his phone with the other hand. He checks his messages. Finds himself pleasantly surprised when he sees the sender.
Fore: Vess, I saw what happened. Is IV okay? I can’t imagine how upsetting that must have been.
Fore: I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I just wanted to make sure you all were safe.
He responds, his fingers lightning quick over his screen.
IV is in the ICU. If you’re serious about making things right with us, then can you do me a favor?
It feels wrong, asking for help now. Asking for help from Fore. But Fore wanted this, a chance at further redemption. He owes them that much. And Ivy, for all of his hurt, had left the window cracked open back then. Had said himself that Fore, in the future, might be able to make amends with them. Undo some of the hurt.
Vessel can never forgive him, not fully. Fore is the reason he almost lost II. He is the reason III’s first instinct at the sight of danger is to take II and run. He is the reason Vessel second guesses himself, even now.
Ivy never hurt them, not like Fore did.
For all of Vessel’s anger at the Guardian’s lack of transparency about his health conditions, both past and present, it pales in comparison to what Fore did. To what Vessel did in keeping the depths of Fore’s bond with II a secret from Ivy.
His phone lights up in his hand.
Fore: Fucking hell. I am so sorry to hear that, Vessel. I hope he gets well soon. What can I do to help?
Vessel swallows thickly, forcing the lump in his throat down as he replies.
Need you to find me a house in London. Not for us, but for some important people. It needs to be in a safe area. Five bedrooms minimum. If you can go in person and send me photos, even better. I need this done as soon as possible.
For Ivy’s sake. For Evan’s. For the Guardian’s entire family.
Vessel can only imagine Ivy’s horror when he awakens to the news of his brother presenting as a result of stress. Alys has already texted him twice. Told him that she has someone coming to the house in Cardiff to assess Evan’s condition. To analyze his behavior. To provide him with an official sub-type designation, if they’re able to discern it. Vessel knows that they will. Can feel it in his bones. Remembers the hesitancy in Alys’ voice as she described his mindless compliance.
Pliant.
Vessel has to keep Evan safe. Keep him close by. Close to their pack. Close to Ivy. Close to the one person who would guard him without hesitation. Without thought. Acting out of sheer instinct.
He still needs to tell II and III the news. But he has a feeling that conversation is still yet meant for later.
Three dots dance on his screen, illuminating the text window.
Fore: Consider it done. Call me if you need anything else. I can be in London in three days.
Vessel breathes out a sigh. Part relief. Part dread. Every part exhausted.
I’ll cover the expenses of the trip and your stay. Do this for us, and consider us even.
It wouldn’t be the first person seeking forgiveness amidst the chaos. Seeking redemption, even now.
Fore. Owen.
Two Alphas who hurt people they loved out of instinct. Out of pride. Out of jealousy. Out of their own selfish wants and desires. Two Alphas willing to act now. To make amends. Make things right.
Vessel needs all the help he can get. Can’t be in three places at once. Can’t bear anymore weight upon his shoulders.
He feels liable to crack. To break. Feels his facade chipping away long before the door to Ivy’s room swings open and III strides inside, carrying II in his arms.
Vessel locks his phone. Sets it aside. Looks at III’s expression, feeling III’s sadness in their bond as II continues to hide his face away in the Empath’s jacket. II’s bond exudes heartbreak.
Vessel feels the cracks in his mask begin to show.
“He… isn’t pregnant,” III says through a shaky exhale. III adjusts his grip on II. Hoists him higher. Holds him closer. There’s a blanket in II’s arms. A baby blanket. Vessel’s heart sinks. “He never was. It’s, uh… a false pregnancy. Psychological, apparently? The doctor said it was… probably the stress, and uh… instinct wanting something it doesn’t have.”
“II,” Vessel breathes out, standing on tired legs as he pushes his chair back. He makes for the door where they stand. Places a hand on the small of II’s back, his eyes lowering to where II lies. Cradled in III’s arms. Face hidden away. Blanket held in a death grip in his hands. “I’m… sorry, my love.”
“Maybe next year,” II says the words bitterly. Tiredly. His voice muffled by the fabric against his lips. Lavender sours. Fire fades. Amber and sun-warmed leather entirety absent. And Vessel cannot stop the ocean from drying up as II’s shoulders shake. “How many times have I told myself this? I put things off because I thought we had all the time in the world…”
Vessel knows where this is going. Steels himself. Reminds himself to be strong. To not break. To be there for them. His pack. His mates.
Even when he himself wants nothing more than to fall apart. To crumble. His Alpha mourns the loss of nothing, the feeling catching in his chest. It mourns for Ivy. For the life that never was. For II’s sorry state. For III’s gutwrenching sniffle.
He thinks of Evan. Ivy’s mother. His father. Alys. Her baby. Jack. Bryn. Owen. Fore. The need for a new house for Ivy’s family. The need to move them. Their inability to get to America to see their son. Their inability to let Evan leave the house, lest risk losing him forever.
The heart monitor beeps.
Vessel swallows thickly, stifling the urge to scream.
“What if we… don’t have that kind of time? What if I… missed my chance?” II grits out. Anger flaring. Anger at himself. At his wants. His desires. His perceived selfishness. His perceived foolishness.
There’s true horror in II’s voice. Mourning the loss of what could have been Ivy’s pup. Reconciling with the fact that he may never have another opportunity to have that with the Guardian.
But Vessel can’t allow that to come to pass. Won’t allow it. His teeth ache. His venom drips against his tongue.
He reminds himself once more that he can’t interfere.
He bites his lower lip instead until it draws blood.
“We… we will have time,” Vessel forces out, kissing II’s soft waves. “You and Ivy will have time. We’ll make it. We’ll… stop putting things off, if that’s what you want to do.”
“I want to go home,” II cries, and it’s rare to see him so broken. So raw. So open. Vessel doesn’t think he can take much more. But he endures it for him. For II. For III. For Ivy. His reason for living. For breathing. His everything. “I want… us all to just go home.”
It’s not the first time II has wanted something that Vessel cannot give him.
He prays to whatever gods might still be listening that it is the last.
Chapter 24: Downbeat
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Angst continues. And... other things. Smile.
Notes:
We're early with this one, but I already had it done and ready to go. So, early update it is.
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin ! Thank you for all that you do! <3 You're incredible. An actual life saver. :)
Thank you all once again for the continued support on this fic. To be honest, I've had a rough past two weeks so that's why my comment replies have been super slow/absent. Please know that I have read each and every single one of them. I plan on responding to everyone once irl slows down a little and lets me breathe. I'll do my best over the course of the next few days. <3
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Numbness.
III’s never felt this way before. Not like this. It’s been two weeks since Ivy collapsed on stage. Two weeks since a piece of their soul shattered. Two weeks since III has felt anything close to normal.
He had been worried that night, before Ivy had taken to the stage, before he succumbed to illness.
He wishes he would have listened to himself. To his gut. That feeling that overtook him while Ivy smiled in his face and insisted he was fine. Hindsight. III wishes he could blame himself. For all of it. But he knows the futility of self-wrought guilt.
II lies beside III on the sofa. One of the Omega’s hands holds Ivy’s. The other clutches his flat stomach. Protective of nothing. Aching. Longing for something that no longer needed words.
Vessel snores softly behind him, nuzzling subconsciously into III’s neck. III is worried about him. Worried about the bags under Vessel’s eyes. The absence of light in them. Vessel’s irises are constantly dark now. Consumed by exhaustion. Molded by instinct. III feels guilty for that, too. Feels guilty for relying on him. For answers. For guidance. For leadership.
He’s an Alpha, too. He shouldn’t be so reliant on Vessel. But he’s… fragile.
He always has been.
III will always find it ironic, how Ivy had initially believed him to be all-knowing. Quiet. Assessing. Unnervingly calm. Maybe he was to some degree, III muses to himself as he reaches across II and lays his hand over Ivy’s. Maybe he’s always been that way. On the outside, unshakable. Inside, a bleeding heart.
Ivy’s condition has been improving.
His lungs clearing. Vacating fluid. His temperature down. The sepsis, manageable. Still reliant on life support. But healing. The prognosis looks better than it ever has. III’s heard the nurse’s conversations. The ones that they thought were private.
A few more weeks. A few more weeks until they attempt to rouse their incapacitated mate. A few more weeks before they remove the tube, affording Ivy the opportunity to breathe. If he’s capable of it.
III supposes he should feel some semblance of peace knowing that. He doesn’t. It’s impossible when Ivy still lies unmoving. Comatose. Kept alive by the dull whirl of machinery. Condition kept stable by the medication that drips down, spreading through his veins.
Hospitals are full of emotions. Their own. His own. The nurses. The doctors. The patients. The visiting friends. The family. III has never been so inundated with information. Overcome and overwhelmed. He wishes they were home. Together. Healthy. Lying in each other’s comforting embrace.
He hugs II a little closer to himself. Tilts his head back further, giving Vessel’s sleeping lips more access to his claim. He loves them all more than anything. Offers them what comfort he can. Takes from them all what they’re willing to give without detriment towards themselves.
“When we get home, little love,” he starts, tightening his hold on II with the arm tucked underneath the drummer’s smaller frame. His other hand flexes, holds II’s and Ivy’s hands with his own. “What’s the first thing you want to do?”
“Sleep,” II answers immediately, leaning further back into him. “I want us all to just… lie down in the nest and sleep.”
“We could use the rest,” III replies, nuzzling back into Vessel’s instinctual touch. “We’ll all be… very exhausted by then. And Ivy will still need time to recover. Regain his strength.”
“Maybe we… could get him a physical therapist?” II suggests, his thoughtfulness shining through. It’s always been III’s favorite aspect of II. The kindness he possesses. Buried beneath his grumbling exterior. His sharp looks. The rolling of his pretty eyes. II’s defense mechanisms. Deep beneath it all lies who he truly is. How III sees him. How he wishes the world could see his beloved, little mate.
“That’s a good idea,” III concurs with a quiet hum. “Ivy will want to get back to working out with Vessel as quickly as possible, knowing him. Maybe it would be a good thing to have him work with someone in-house so that he regains his strength faster.”
“His family will be moving when we get back,” II reminds him, glancing over his shoulder slightly. III catches his gaze, the bleariness of his pale blue eyes. “I… need to thank Fore for helping us out.”
“You don’t owe Fore anything,” III says with a sympathetic smile. “He’s the one who owes us something, little love.”
“Still,” II lilts, sighing softly. “He’s… really trying. So is Owen. Life’s too short to hold these types of grudges, III.”
“You’re right,” III relents as II leans further back against him. Faint lavender blooms between them. Harmony quiet, but present for the first time in weeks. III doesn’t hesitate to give into its barely present call. Its desire for peace. II’s emotions become crisper. More easily discernible. His hope. His sadness. His desperation for a future that feels so out of reach.
“I told Ivy’s mam that I’ll help Evan,” II explains, head lulling back further into III’s chest. “The only other Omega I know is Murph. But Murph can’t help him like I can,” II says, without apology. “I know what it’s like to feel like your body is at war with itself. I know what it’s like to be afraid of what you are. I’m probably the closest he’ll ever get to having someone he can relate to.”
“Evan will appreciate that,” III says sincerely with a smile. It’s the first smile that has felt genuine in weeks. “So will Ivy.”
“Ivy will be… really sad when he learns about his brother,” II pouts, scent snuffing itself out. Bond closing its doors. His emotions muted. Fuzzy. III wishes he had the heart to ask his mate not to shut him out. Wishes he had the wherewithal to vocalize how deeply the feeling wounds him. The loss of one of his senses. His most predominant one. Emotions. “I need to do everything I can to make it easier on him.”
“We all need to do our part to help ease his strain,” III hums, his fingers slotting over II’s ribs. “Right now, we need… to take care of ourselves, too. I’m worried about you and Vessel.”
“We’re worried about you, too,” II tells him. III tightens his grip on II’s hand. On Ivy’s. Holds them both in his much larger hand as II gently nuzzles his chest. “Can I… ask you something III?”
“You can ask me anything,” III replies with another slight smile. Trying his best to keep calm beyond the unfamiliar numbness. The unnerving sensation of II’s muted, frazzled bond.
“Would you be… upset if we stayed home for a while?” II asks hesitantly. III listens to his sharp intake of breath. Feels II’s breath catch beneath his fingertips. III gives him a moment. Gives himself a moment. Thinking. Processing. Reading in between the lines. The unspoken implications.
“No,” III answers honestly, nodding slightly. Vessel grumbles in his sleep in response. As if reacting subconsciously to his admission. “We need some time to process everything, naturally. But maybe we… stay home for a little while longer. We have one festival in November, but it’s back home in London. After that, maybe… you and Vessel can work on that new album. It would give us time to relax at home for a while.”
“I want to work on the new album, and…” II trails off. His muted scent sweetens. III knows before the Omega speaks that whatever II means to say next is something he wants. Something II doesn’t wasn’t push back on. His scent grows sweeter with his wants. His needs. His desire to be held. Loved. Accepted. III never means to deny him. Not anything.
Their love for each other was different. They’ve all said so themselves.
Ivy is someone III and his Alpha chose. Someone he could rely on. Someone he was enamored with. Smitten. Someone who held him up. Someone who was willing to go to bat for him, when III himself was unwilling to resort to confrontation unless in defense of himself. In defense of his pack. A last resort.
Vessel is his stability. His warm, welcoming arms. His sturdy foundation. His leader. The one he seeks when he needs help. The one he seeks when he needs comfort. Needs grounding. Someone who understands his woes. The downsides of his sub-type. Someone who loves him fiercely. Unconditionally. Someone who III loves with the same ferocity. The same devotion.
II is the light in his eyes. The air that he breathes. The warm feeling that grows in his chest. It’s only natural between them. Their craving for one another. Their desires. But II is so much more than that. II’s bravery. His defiance. His anxieties. His fears. His pretty blue eyes. His gorgeous skin. II is the one who he craves to comfort. To calm. To hold and cherish.
His love knew many variations. But it was all the same to him. All consuming. All encompassing.
III wants what’s best for them. He always has. Their happiness is his own. He relies on maintaining it. For their sake. For his own.
“Tell me what you want, little love,” III urges him. Voice soft. Eyes even softer. His own scent flares. It shouldn’t be discernible, but it is. A side effect of mating with a Dominant Alpha, he presumes. Vessel emboldened every aspect of their instincts. It was only a blessing that it didn’t render them incapable of regulating their instincts artificially.
His rut was long since overdue. Stifled by medications now.
II’s heat was strangely late. Quieted now by medicine provided by the same doctor who told him the news about his false pregnancy. The same doctor who had broken II’s heart.
II’s heat was late due to stress.
III knew something had to give eventually.
“I want… to stop putting off the things that Vessel and I want,” II says, his voice shaking. III slowly closes his eyes. Listens to the beeping of Ivy’s heartbeat monitor. To II’s trembling breaths. To Vessel’s soft snoring. III can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. “Ivy… won’t be well enough for a while. I know that. But, when my heat comes, I want Ve to…” II clears his throat. Embarrassed. Ashamed. No matter how deeply II tries to bury his emotions, III can feel those all the same. “I want us to try, III. I want to try. I’m choosing this for myself.”
“I know you do, and you have every right to make that decision.” III confirms with a slight lilt. Vessel’s warm breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of his neck. Right over his claim. Over II’s. Over Ivy’s scar. “We can figure out the logistics of touring with a pup in the future. Right now, let’s just… get home. Help Ivy recover. Help his family adjust. We have Alys’ baby being born in a few months. We have… a lot to look forward to, II.”
“You’re not upset,” II assesses. Doesn’t quite ask. Says the words as if they surprise them. III can feel his shock. Frowns as II twists in his arms, looking up at him. “I thought that you… were uncomfortable with the idea of being a parent, III.”
“I was uncomfortable with the idea of knowing what they need and not being able to provide that for them,” III explains, his voice trailing off. He snorts. The sound is anything but amused. “But if I’ve learned anything about being an Empath through my time spent here, I don’t think anything will compare to how… overwhelming this whole situation is. This environment. I think I can handle a hungry, tired pup now.”
II smiles. III hasn't seen him smile in far too long. His Alpha swells with pride. So does he.
Ivy's heartbeat shatters the silence. Steady. A reminder of what's at stake.
III watches the smile fade off of II's lips. He feels his own slip away.
“I love you, II,” III whispers softly. Numbness sinking in once again.
“I love you more,” II replies back.
III doesn’t think that's possible. But he holds his mate a little closer to his chest anyway.
-
III can see the war in Vessel’s eyes.
The constant strain against instinct. He can feel the emotional toll. The exhaustion.
Vessel locks his phone with a sigh, letting it slip from his fingertips atop their makeshift nest. II sits at Ivy’s bedside, earbuds in. Holding Ivy’s hand, listening to a song performed by the Guardian’s previous band. III can see the dry remnants of tears in II’s eyes. But it is not II’s emotions that startle him.
It’s Vessel’s.
“Let me rub your back,” III suggests, standing from his own chair. He perches himself beside their Dominant partner. Raises a hand to snake it behind Vessel’s taut shoulders, rubbing them through the dark fabric of his hoodie. Vessel sighs. Relents a moment later. III smiles when Vessel leans forward, giving him better access. “You’re running yourself ragged, love.”
“This is exhausting,” Vessel confesses, his voice a hushed whisper. III can’t help but frown as he doubles his efforts, working away the tension in his mate’s spine. “I… want more than anything for him to just… open his eyes so that we can go home. But… this doesn’t end there, III. We have rehab, and…” Vessel bites out the words. Stutters. Tuts and growls a moment later in his frustration.
“We have a long road ahead of us,” III concurs, bringing his other hand to Vessel’s back to join the other. “But you are taking on too much right now, Vessel. We need you, yes. But you’re not in this alone. Delegate. I can handle it. You know I can.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Vessel says, almost as if offended. III can feel his wounded pride. His relentless Alpha. His desire to provide for them. To work hard so that they don’t have to. But nothing ever is that simple. Vessel knows it better than any of them, of that much III is certain. “Of course you can handle it, III. But I… this is my pack. I am the one who is responsible for taking care of all of you.” Vessel laughs bitterly. “Some job of it I’m doing.”
“You have always done more than enough,” III disagrees, grumbling. Alpha blinking itself awake. Ready to stand its ground against his most stubborn mate. Vessel’s head lulls to the side, lips twitching up in a snarl. All instinct. III can feel his love for him. Feel how good his own hands feel on Vessel’s skin. How relaxing it is, even if they clash over words. “Ivy will wake up, Vess. We just need to give his body time to heal. I don’t like it anymore than you do. But you are far from alone in this.”
“It’s not your responsibility,” Vessel disagrees. There's a bite in his voice now. In his words. The byproduct of exhaustion. “You are a member of my pack, III. You know what you need to do. Let me take care of the rest like I’m meant to.”
“You’re not meant to do anything,” III grumbles back. He flattens his palms against Vessel’s back. “You’re putting the weight of the world on your shoulders again. Now you’re losing your grip on your Alpha. You can’t do everything alone, Vessel. You can’t protect us from everything, love.”
Vessel tenses underneath his grasp. The snarl on his lips turns into a growl. Defensive. The battle in Vessel’s irises continues. The longer that time goes on, the longer they go without Ivy, the less of Vessel III sees in them. He sees instinct instead now. Raw. Scared. Dangerous. Instinct.
II’s head snaps up. The earbuds clatter to the floor. Harmony smacks them both with the force of the London tube.
There is no room for argument in it. No room for refusal. III takes the offered peace. And Vessel…
“Vessel,” II warns, but his voice is shaky. Teeth chattering. Vessel’s scent saturates the walls. The air itself. Oceanic. Raging. An imminent flood. The war in his eyes is over. They’re pitch black now. Dilated. Devoid of caramel. Devoid of light. III can feel his spiraling. His loss of control. His guilt. His heartache. His pain.
It’s too much.
Harmony smooths it over. Takes the edge off. II’s presence shines through their bond. A beacon in the dark. The only light that can reach Vessel when he’s like this.
“Our mate is fighting for his life,” II hisses at the both of them. III winces. Vessel flinches as if he’s been struck. It’s the first semblance of hard fought composure that flickers across his face. Clues them in on how hard he’s fighting against instinct even still. Buried beneath the misery. Beneath the feelings of inadequacy.
The perception of failure.
He and Vessel have always butted heads the most. Vessel, who kept his emotions private. And III, who could read him like a book.
It hurts III every time. He knows that it hurts Vessel, too. Can see it in his eyes as caramel eats away at the darkness in the center. As Vessel accepts the offer of Harmony and lets out a rugged sigh.
Vessel collapses backwards, against him. III catches his Alpha without a moment’s hesitation.
“No more of that,” II tells them both with a pointed look. Lips still peeled upwards. Eyes sharp. Discerning. II always denied being pack glue. Passed the title back to III. But II doesn’t understand all that he does for them. Keeps them in line. Keeps their instincts in check. Their baseline Alpha aggression under control.
“I’m sorry,” Vessel whispers softly, bowing his head as if in shame. Even that is a bold gesture. For a Dominant Alpha to do something so against its nature. Something that goes against its hardcoded DNA. “I… just want to keep you all safe. I… know I’m failing. I’m trying my best. I’m trying.”
III’s heart sinks. He nuzzles his mate’s skin. His nape. His neck. His scent gland. Imparts his fire on Vessel’s ocean, sizzling the surface.
“I didn’t say it to upset you, love,” III promises him, kissing the place that bears his mark. “You’re just as upset as we are, I know that. We know that. But you don’t have to pretend like this doesn’t affect you, Vess. We’re not asking for you to be poised. Or have all the answers. We just… we need you here. You can be upset. You can’t bottle this up.”
“I’ll fall apart when we’re home,” Vessel laughs dryly. Humorlessly. “Maybe not even then. But never a moment before. I love you, III. I know you’re looking out for me. But all I want is for you and II to be here for Ivy, and for each other. Let me handle the rest.”
III sighs softly, but he knows it’s a losing battle.
Vessel’s resigned to his fate. To his instincts. To the pain that comes with being a leader. To the heartbreak and strain that consumes them all.
“Will you at least let me soothe you?” III asks with a pout. Feels it the moment that love pulsates through Vessel’s being. Raw. Genuine. Heartfelt, love.
“Can you play with my hair?” Vessel inquires, turning his face into III’s. III smiles when lips graze his brow. Over and over again. Vessel nuzzles him. Kisses his skin. Apologizes in the way he knows how to. The way he always has. Actions instead of words.
It’s one of III’s favorite things. Especially with Vessel. Especially with… Ivy.
He swallows thickly, blinking away freshly forming tears. Vessel mumbles calming words in the space between them. Mumbles a proper apology. Mumbles praise. Affection. Remorse. The numbness in his chest creeps in. Not even Vessel’s presence is enough.
He threads his fingers through Vessel’s hair, massaging his scalp. Detangling his short, brown locks.
His eyes never dry. Vessel’s reassurances never cease.
II sniffles from across the room.
Ivy remains silently sleeping. Healing. Doing the one thing that they can’t do without him.
-
Another week.
Another passing haze, obscured by grief. Happiness, a distant memory.
It is then when the physician breaks his silence.
“His lungs are looking good,” Dr. Briar says as he lowers his face mask.
He's a kind man. Has been kind to them since they arrived. Exudes an air of confidence that toes the line with his consideration. He's a Beta. But he understands their pain. Their needs. Has advocated for the staff to make space for them since they've arrived.
It's rare that III meets someone like him.
Good. Honest. Trustworthy. Genuine.
All the things claimed to be, but never quite managed to live up to.
“I think we are out of the woods,” Dr. Briar continues, his smile growing. A choked gasp punches from III’s chest. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath for days. II sobs into Vessel's side. For once, it isn’t heartbroken.
“Can you wake him?” Vessel inquires, his tone hopeful. His gaze serious. III can feel his burgeoning faith. Hard fought as it was with the medical team.
“We’ll begin tapering the sedation this afternoon,” Dr. Briar answers with a hopeful smile. “As we’ve discussed, Ivy will have to keep the intubation tube in when we wake him. We need to monitor his condition, and give his body time to play catch up before we remove it.”
“He’s… going to be so scared and confused,” III hisses out through wobbling lips. II sniffles, wiping at his eyes. Raising his head. III feels his gaze. II’s love for him. His sorrow and concern. His joy at the news they've just received.
III doesn't know if he can stomach it. Feeling Ivy’s agony. His terror.
“He will be,” Dr. Briar doesn’t mince his words. “I know that this is a difficult thing to ask of you, but it is imperative that you remain as calm as possible when you see him open his eyes.”
“We understand,” II mumbles, drying the last of his tears from his cheek. “How much longer do we have to stay here?”
III’s heart shatters at the question, reaching for him before he thinks. Touches II’s shoulder. Feels him tremble beneath his fingertips. Vessel winces. Exhales shakily on the other side of II’s trembling frame.
II’s stress has never been this high. Not even when Fore left. Abandoned him. Left him dying in their nest.
Ivy’s collapse destroyed something in their little mate. It had carved something out of him. Left a hollow where the Guardian used to be.
The longing for home. The tears. The lack of his usual bite. The loss of the pup he never truly had… it’s been too much for II. III knows it without asking. Not that II would ever admit to it in either case.
Not that any of them would.
Too much. It's all been too much for all of them.
“Only time will tell. Everyone's recovery process is different,” Dr. Briar answers with a curt nod. “He will remain in intensive care until such a time that he can breathe unassisted. From there, he will be transferred to a different ward for further observation. But the fact that he’s on the road to leave the ICU?” Dr. Briar smiles gently. “That’s worth celebrating.”
“Dr. Greene told us he was unlikely to make it when we arrived,” Vessel recalls with a frown. II grips their hands. One each. III squeezes back immediately. Trying to soothe him. Trying to be calm.
Trying to be as hopeful as they feel.
But he's still never felt so numb.
“Ivy's a fighter. He's defied our expectations. But it is important to bear in mind that there will be things he is incapable of doing for quite some time,” Dr. Briar reminds them. “Regaining full motor function is a top priority. But even though his brain scans look good, there is a possibility that there will be complications. Please keep that in mind moving forward.”
“We are here for him every step of the way,” II answers, exhaling slowly. III nods along. Doesn't quite trust his own voice at the moment. Too hung up on the inevitable.
He wants Ivy to be awake. To see his eyes. To hear his voice. To feel his touch.
He doesn't want to feel his fear. His agony. His confusion.
But he knows he has to endure it. He knows it is what they need. Their pack. Ivy. He's always been their emotional center. The one who regulates them. The one who they rely on when everything else gets to be too much. When their heads get too loud.
“I will give you some time to make any calls necessary while I go speak with his nurses and make preparations on our end.” Dr. Briar concludes as he extends his hand. First to Vessel. Then II. Lastly III.
It breaks all societal codes, shaking II's hand before his own. III offers Dr. Briar a genuine smile. Wishing things could always be that way. Simple. Respectful. The type of world that II deserved to live in.
“I'll call his mother,” Vessel says as he rises from his seat. III watches him pull out his phone and stand by the window. The only place in the room with decent enough service for an overseas call. It's late back in Cardiff.
III knows she'll answer on the first ring regardless.
“I’m so proud of him,” II says, regaining his attention. II’s bloodshot eyes are steeled now. Trained firmly on Ivy’s bedside before them. The drummer’s free hand rises, clasping over Ivy’s as a fond smile spreads on his lips. III feels himself do the same. Grin. Even if it’s nervous. Even if it’s half as genuine as II’s. “We need to watch what we say around him until he gets cleared by the doctors. He doesn’t need to know everything right away. He needs to focus on his recovery.”
“We can’t burden him with our woes,” III murmurs, giving II’s hand a squeeze. Vessel’s quiet, whispered conversation carries on in the background. III can hardly imagine Ivy’s family’s joy, but he can feel Vessel’s all the same. “Things will have to change once we get back home. But for now, let’s just be grateful that he’s… coming back to us.”
“I thought we lost him,” II quietly confesses. His smile turns bitter. His eyes look vacant. Faraway and unseeing. III presses closer. Breathes in II’s scent. His grief. His love. He says nothing, because what could he possibly say? Only that he feels it too. All of it. All at once. “I’ve always known how important he was to me. To all of us. But almost losing him?” II’s voice breaks. “This is the most painful thing I’ve ever endured, III. And I know… I know you’re hurting more than you’ll ever say.”
“I’m struggling,” III admits, watching II slowly turn his head. Hold his gaze. Pale blue oceans melding into the blue-green sea. “But what good is it to break down now? We’re all hurting.”
“We could all use a good cry,” II snorts. Mirth returns to his eyes. III never wants to watch it fade away again. “It’s strange, really. Ivy waking up is the only thing I’ve thought about in almost a month. But I’m… scared to see him like this. I don’t want it to hurt you. Or Vessel. Both of you are so stubborn. Far too stubborn to admit that it might be too much for you. But… we need to be strong for Ivy’s sake. All of us do.”
“I couldn’t have said it any better myself,” III says with a proud smile. He leans forward, kissing II’s damp cheek. Smiles into his mate’s soft skin. “He’s going to be okay, II. All of us will. It might take some time for us to get to that point, but we will make it through. We have so much to look forward to. But we have to get there first. That’s all.”
“Ivy’s never been the type to be afraid of anything,” II exhales, tilting his head back slightly. “He was scared when he fell, III. I know you felt it. I… I’m just preparing myself to feel it again.”
III remembers. He doubts that he’ll ever forget it.
It had been the first moment of clarity through Ivy’s hazy emotions on the day that he collapsed. The abrupt uptick in his output, both that which Vessel and II could discern, and the one in which III himself could feel.
Ivy had been petrified. And them? Helpless.
“I wanted to be able to tell him we were going to have a pup,” II confesses, and it’s the first time he’s said the words with clarity. Conviction. Mournful, yes. But steeled with resolve all the same. Vessel rejoins them, sliding his phone into his pocket as he lingers by the edge of the couch. Their makeshift nest. III misses their nest in London. Feels a wave of homesickness wash over him but drowns out his own pain with the feeling of II’s as it seeps into him.
“We’ve had our discussion, and agreed on what we want moving forward, II. Ivy will be happy that we’ve decided to pursue something he encouraged us to,” Vessel reminds him with a smile. It isn’t wolfish. It’s far from confident. But it’s sincere in a way that brings life back into his eyes. Brings light into them. Caramel. The darkness once more relegated to the center. “He might be disappointed, but there’s no use in us speculating on how he might react right now.”
“All of this can come later,” III agrees with a nod. “We do have time, little love.”
II’s next inhale is shaky. The exhale, steady.
“We do,” II repeats, a smile once more forming on his lips.
Ivy will be woken up soon.
He will be panicked. Nervous. Possibly in pain. Scared. Still sick. Still recovering.
But he’s alive.
That’s all III ever wanted. All they ever did.
-
Patience.
III’s always had it. Always needed it. Patience for himself. Patience with others.
He possesses none of it now as he waits. Knees bouncing. Eyes glued to Ivy’s expression. His bruised lips around the intubation tube. The stubble on Ivy’s cheeks that III’s been grooming to the best of his ability given the circumstances. His eyes flit to Ivy’s. They’re still closed.
The anticipation kills him. The desperate longing. The desire to see his Guardian’s eyes. To drown in his deep blue oceans. To know that he’s still Ivy in spite of all that he has endured.
There’s fear there, too. A fear that creeps into the numbness, shattering the false sense of peace.
He breathes in deep. Exhales slowly. Seeks II’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers together as Vessel wraps his arms around the both of them. III complies with Vessel’s pull, allowing himself to be pulled into Vessel’s embrace. II is sandwiched between them now. Their joined hands pressed between them.
“Breathe for me,” Vessel urges them, seemingly not sensing the irony in his words. III doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t want to associate his mate’s heartfelt concern with something so traumatizing. Something so dreadful. Instead, he does as Vessel asks of him. Inhales once more. Exhales even slower.
“I’m proud of both of you,” Vessel continues, squeezing them tighter. “Everything will work out in the end. We’ve done all that we can do. Now, we just need to keep being here for him. I know this is hard. I know we’re exhausted. But we’re… finally getting our mate back.”
“I’ve missed him so much,” II grumbles, his words muffled from where he stands pressed between them. “I hate that I have to wait to hear his voice…”
“You still have his songs, little love,” III says with a shuttered breath. “He’ll be awake. Alive. With us. That’s… that’s all that matters right now.”
“His family wants to see him on a video call after the tube is taken out,” Vessel informs them, letting them go. III misses his body heat immediately. His comforting presence. The smell of the ocean on his skin. “Owen is staying with them until we get back to London. The owners of the house that Fore found are still considering my offer. Everything is… falling into place.”
“And the label?” II asks with a lilt, tilting his head upward to look at their Dominant mate.
Vessel offers them a wary smile.
“We… are not on the best of terms with them at the moment, my love,” Vessel answers honestly. Words he had kept hidden from them until now. II’s eyes narrow. A sigh escapes the drummer before his gaze softens. “Our attorney is handling it. They don’t need bad optics. They just need a reminder.”
“Sam is still taking care of it with him, no?” III inquires with a raised brow. Vessel hums, turning on his heel. Facing the bedside. III immediately finds Ivy’s eyelids. Still closed. No change. Dr. Briar looks up from his seat and the chart in his hands before looking back down again.
“Sam is handling it for us, yes,” Vessel confirms with a nod. “I told you I’d take care of things, loves. Everything is being taken care of. For now, let’s just focus on Ivy.”
III swallows thickly around the lump in his throat.
Feels his nerves fraying. Feels the numbness slipping away. The hospital was an overwhelming place. This much he’s established. But there is nothing more overwhelming than the prospect of feeling more pain from the people he loves the most.
II’s quiet hope bleeds into nervousness.
Vessel’s calm demeanor belies the surge of impatience that washes over him. A dam straining under pressure. Bound to crack before it shatters.
III knows Vessel well enough to know that the Dominant Alpha will only stifle it, his emotions, until it becomes too much to bear. Maybe it will occur when they make it back to London. Maybe it will happen before.
III dreads it all the same.
“He should begin rousing soon,” Dr. Briar tells them as the door swings open. A team of nurses floods into the room. One politely brushes past them, monitoring his vitals. Three more join Dr. Briar on the opposing side of the bed as the physician rises to his feet. Vessel’s scent flares in misplaced warning. Protective. Instinctual. II headbutts their Dominant partner’s chest without a second thought.
III can’t help but smile, seeing them like this. Seeing them almost acting like themselves.
“Let me be the first thing he sees,” Vessel doesn’t ask. Doesn’t request. He commands. III’s Alpha bows its head as he does. Long since over the bristling response. The fear. The confusion. Vessel’s Alpha chuffs through the singer’s lips.
III notices that they tremble.
“Very well. Please, remember to keep a cool head when he wakes,” Dr. Briar asks with a respective, deep nod of his own. “Your presence can be soothing to him. But he might be in pain. He will also be experiencing extreme discomfort. Give him a moment to adjust, and take in his surroundings. This experience will be overwhelming for all of you. But none more so than Ivy.”
“I understand,” Vessel’s grumble dies in his throat. Stills on his slightly parted lips. III wants to console him. Knows that II feels the same. Can feel II’s desire. Vessel’s anger at himself.
But the nurses are already moving. The air shifts, as if changing positions with them.
Vessel is gone from their side in an instant. Hovering over Ivy’s bed. His face.
Amber and sun-warmed leather grace III’s nostrils for the first time in nearly a month.
He blinks away tears he promised to himself that he wouldn’t shed, shifting his gaze just in time to see it. A most beautiful sight.
Atop the hospital bed, Ivy blinks.
Notes:
III POV is fun. :,)
Chapter 25: Harmony
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Lingering angst. That is all.
6.8k-ish words!
Notes:
Hello, hello!
Once more, thank you all so much for the continued support on this fic. I'm doing my best to get caught up on the comments you all have left. I should be finished responding to them all by the end of the weekend. You guys are incredible. <3
As always, a huge shoutout goes to my incredibly amazing beta-reader: JayDawnSin! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Without you, I would be crying over my docs. Hating my life. Editing my own work is hell. You're incredible! :)
And another massive thank you to ghostsvessel for perusing this!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me whatever. :)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
II wasn’t quite sure what to expect when Ivy awoke for the first time in weeks.
Pain was certain. Fear, guaranteed. But he suspected immobility. Tiredness. A numbness in his Guardian’s limbs. An ache that came with being bedridden. Comatose.
What he wasn’t expecting was thrashing. Violent, terrible thrashing.
Agony sweeps through II like the ocean’s tide. Inundating his bones. Saturating his mind before finding itself a home in his chest. Nestling between his ribs. The terror is excruciating. The confusion, gut-wrenching. Ivy wakes not with grace, or cumbersome limbs. But with a start, legs kicking the doctor’s steadying hands. Arms flailing, flying towards his bruised lips. Attempting to remove the tube perched between his teeth.
“Restrain him!” Dr. Briar commands the nearby nurses. All II can focus on is Ivy. His flailing limbs. His pain. The heartbreak that it causes him. The underlying relief II himself feels because Ivy is alive. Moving. Conscious after so long.
The monitor shrieks. Bed rails rattle against the frame. The terrible, rhythmic thud of Ivy’s heels slamming into the mattress fills II’s ears.
Everything blurs. Everything but Ivy.
His Guardian.
Their mate.
Thrashing. Panicked. Wheezing around the tube in his mouth. Eyes blown wide. Filled to the brim with fear. Vessel shifts from above Ivy’s head. A nurse catches a wild elbow to the ribs. Ivy’s IV tears loose. Blood drips down his arm. Red against hospital white.
II can’t breathe. Can’t move.
III’s bond radiates with the intense pressure of their combined pain beneath Ivy’s overwhelming emotions. Vessel’s… consumes everything.
“Ivy,” Vessel growls, and the room falls silent. II’s rarely heard Vessel use this tone. The one that freezes everyone around him. The one that makes II whine on instinct. Makes III duck his head. Makes Dr. Briar and the nurses avert the eyes, unable to hold Vessel’s gaze. A Dominant Alpha’s command. A true command. “Stop.”
Ivy stops moving. Freezes atop the bed. Does nothing but grip at the thin bedsheets that surround him as Vessel leans down, cupping his cheeks. II watches them through wide eyes. Blinks when they become too watery and obscure his vision. III shudders at his side. Sniffling. Raising his wary head.
“Listen to me, my love,” Vessel says through trembling lips. Their bond doesn’t lie. II feels the press of Vessel’s guilt like a leaden weight on his chest. The fear. The anger. The trembling thread of relief. All tangled together, all leaking into II’s own already overwhelmed mind. “You’re safe, Ivy. You’re in the hospital. You collapsed on stage. We’re still in Dallas. I’m here. II and III are sitting right next to you. Everything is going to be okay.”
II cranes his neck. Grimaces when Ivy blinks away heavy tears. Vessel catches them with his fingertips.
“Blink twice if you remember what happened,” Vessel requests. II watches with wide eyes. Sniffling. Reaching for III’s hand. Clasping it when he finds it. III squeezes his fingers. Rubs their scent glands together, grounding him. Atop the hospital bed, Ivy blinks twice. Vessel smiles sadly.
“You collapsed, my love,” Vessel continues softly, leaning down to kiss Ivy’s twitching brow. “You were very sick. They had to intubate you so that you could breathe. You had a bad infection. But you’re doing better now.”
Ivy blinks rapidly. Their bond thrums to life. His scent, sour as it is, fills the air.
“You were asleep for three weeks,” Vessel whispers, and II can see the devastation in Ivy’s eyes through his own tears. Vessel continues to brush Ivy’s cheeks until they’re no longer streaked with wet lines. “I know you’re scared, my brave Guardian. But you’re safe. We have you. You’re going to be okay, Ivy.”
Silence. Gripping, piercing silence.
“Are you in any pain?” Vessel asks, brushing Ivy’s hair back once more. III squeezes II’s hand tighter. II feels the bite of III’s bat ring, a gift from Ivy, made by Murph’s skilled hands, as it digs into his skin. “I can feel your discomfort and panic. But I need you to blink twice if the pain is too much.”
Two blinks. II bites his bottom lip to stifle the sound that tries to escape him. III leans on him. Half-collapses into his side. Their scents are muted. Dull. Quiet. As if even their instincts know not to intervene here.
Still, his Omega is whiney. Needy. It always has been. It’s always been the one part of himself that he hates the most. The one that was the hardest to suppress. Even back when he was alone, before Vessel. Hiding himself away in his grandparent’s cottage and looking over his shoulder in spite of the escorts he was provided to and from school.
He’s always needed someone at his side. And when he found someone his Omega chose, who he chose, it never stopped craving them.
He never did either.
It’s why he clings to Vessel. His Omega desperate to keep its Dominant partner’s attention. Vessel guarantees his survival. His Omega’s survival. No one’s stronger than Vessel. No one faster. No one more terrifying when he wants to be. And no one else’s venom can do what his does. Burn out claims. Prevents illness. Protects.
A Dominant Alpha should have as many mates as they can manage. Way more Omegas than one. That's what their biology dictates. But Vessel tells him he never wants another Omega as a mate. Never needs another. Says that he is enough. II’s Omega is desperate to keep things that way. Keep the Dominant Alpha all to itself. All to himself.
It’s why he relies on III for emotional support. Stability. A calm, guiding hand that helps him navigate the unkind world around him. He’s not naive. He knows what other people think of him. He loathes it, every part of it. How they see him as weak. How he is weak. How they see him as emotional. How he is emotional. III weathers the storms with him. The fluctuations in his moods. The instincts. The losses of control. The insatiable wants and needs.
III has the patience of a saint. Treats II as if he walks on water. As if he hung the very stars with his hands. II’s never felt himself deserving of it. Still remembers, even now, how III spent what little money he didn’t have on his credit card just so that he and Vessel could have their first proper nest. His Omega needs that. Needs that understanding. That constant reassuring presence. The emotional intelligence. The boundless love that ran deeper than the Mariana Trench.
It’s why he was so hesitant to give up on Fore. Even when Fore left him. Abandoned him. Gave up on him. On them. Fore was a walking Sanctuary on his good days. A living hell on his bad ones. He made II second guess himself at every turn. Made his Omega louder. More demanding of the things that it wants. The things he wanted but buried deep beneath his need to perform. His need to be heard in some aspect of his life. Seen, but safe.
It makes him happy now. How Fore was at least trying to make amends. How the Sanctuary Alpha learned from his mistakes. Gave II that piece of himself back. Helped them out now. Helped Vessel. Helped III. Helped Ivy and his family. His Omega doesn’t miss Fore anymore. II doesn’t miss him romantically either. But his heart still aches when he thinks of Fore. When he thinks of his old friend.
It’s why he’s consumed by his need for Ivy. The way he makes him feel safe. Secure. Like he can walk beside his Guardian mate and know with definitive certainty that nothing would ever touch him. Never harm him. Never lay a finger on him. Never speak to him in a condescending way. Never look at him as if he were nothing more than a walking piece of meat. II’s Omega felt safe with him. Has felt safe with him from the jump. From the very moment Ivy stepped in front of him on stage, ready to defend him from the crowd, II has felt just as safe with the Guardian as he did his own mates.
Growing up, II was always told he was naturally manipulative by those around him.
Told that he charmed someone on purpose. That his sub-type was too appealing. His skin too dewy. His hair and its waves too soft. His hips too grabbable. His waist too lithe not to hold. His smile too pretty. His eyes too ensnaring. His words too honeyed. His voice too soothing. His scent, aerated gold.
He sees it even now, in himself.
The way he hums rhythmically to stifle panic. To calm the nerves of those around him. The way he bats his eyes at his mates. The way he speaks to them. The way he rolls his eyes and bares his teeth. The way his scent sweetens when he wants something or attention. The way he clings to them and climbs their bodies so that he doesn’t have to feel trapped in his own.
He’s always been this way.
Angry on the inside. Suffocated by the world. Admired by leering eyes and potentially fatal smiles.
Vessel was his first safe haven. He still is. He always will be.
III was his first sense of peace. His infinite calm. His unyielding patience.
Fore was the one who taught him the consequences. Who showed him the truth of their world. Who served as a warning.
Ivy was the one who made him feel comfortable in his instincts. In his skin. Who made him dare to want more for himself.
So as Ivy blinks twice, signaling he’s in pain that not even their bond portrays, something in II hardens itself to stone.
“Give him something,” II breathes out, looking to Dr. Briar for acknowledgment. “Don’t just watch him suffer.”
He has to be strong now. For Vessel. For III. For Ivy. For the friends and family waiting for the Guardian back home.
His Omega wants something soft. Something to soothe the pain. He buries it deeper than it’s ever been buried before. Denies it. Denies himself. Holds III’s hand tighter for it, but refuses to crumble now. Not like he did when Ivy first arrived. Not like he did at his bedside every day for the first two weeks of their stay. Not like he did when he learned that the pup he wished grew within him was nothing more than a cruel trick of his mind. A cruel desire of his Omega.
Its way of hurting him back for once.
Ivy’s eyes go wide. II rises to his feet, squeezing III’s hand before letting go. He smiles as he steps forward. Watches the moment that Ivy sees him. Feels relief wash over him as he sees recognition flash in Ivy’s deep blue eyes. II raises a hand, surprised it isn’t shaking. He places it on Ivy’s cheek, just below Vessel’s. Leans in, pressing his lips to his Guardian’s twitching brow.
II feels the tension leave Ivy’s skin beneath his lips. Dr. Briar says something about fixing the IV line. A nurse mentions another medication by its name.
II holds Ivy’s gaze before he gently strokes his mate’s cheek, nudging Vessel’s hand away. Vessel says nothing. Rises. Takes a seat beside III on the nearby chairs, filling II’s space, as Ivy blinks upward at II.
He can see the Guardian’s pain. His confusion. His discomfort. He can feel it more intensely now than ever.
But II forces himself to remain calm. Extends outward Harmony like a balm. His Omega howls with delight as it feels its once slumbering mate desperately, weakly, latch onto its steady grasp.
“I love you so much,” II says through a smile. Nothing about it is forced in spite of their circumstances. “I need you to stay calm right now, okay? We’re here for you, Ivy. We’re not going anywhere. We’re right beside you.”
Two blinks. Ivy doesn’t flinch when the new IV goes in. Relaxes a few moments later when the medicine washes over him, easing the strain. It’s palpable, the feeling of his pain fading away. II listens to the steady monitor beeps. To the idle chatter of the doctor and nurses as he continues to stare into Ivy’s reddened eyes.
II wants to kiss him. He knows that Ivy just wants to breathe.
“The tube is what’s freaking you out the worst, isn’t it?” He assesses, stroking his mate’s cheek lovingly. Two blinks confirm his suspicions.
“We are going to begin the process of removing it in a few hours if your tests continue to come back normal,” Dr. Briar says, stepping into view. II doesn’t move from his place for him. Only moves aside when III dries his eyes and approaches.
It brings II some joy, watching Ivy’s eyes light up like a dying star as III’s visage fills his gaze.
“Hi, my love,” III coos, dropping to a knee by the bedside. His hands tremble. His scent flairs. Comforting. Warm. More stable than it’s been since they spoke quietly atop the mockery of a nest that II had made for them from hospital linens and what they had managed to move in from the long since departed tour bus.
II runs his fingers down Ivy’s arm, seizing his hand. Making space for Dr. Briar by Ivy’s head as III continues to whisper sweet nothings to their still rousing mate. II catches Vessel’s gaze from across the bed. Sees the shame swirling in his Dominant partner’s eyes. The guilt from his command. The disdain.
Go to him, his Omega dictates, halting its song of joy from the revival of its Guardian.
II’s fingertips dance around Ivy’s body. Over bedsheets. His feet step over chords. Wires. II doesn’t care to deny his Omega. But he’d never deny this. Deny his mates his comfort. His presence.
What parts of himself he used to hate, they made him love, after all.
Vessel’s eyes are watery as he gazes up at him. But II knows his mate. Knows that they will never be shed. Buried deep inside himself. Blinked away. Emotions dragged beneath the surface. He perches himself in Vessel’s lap without preamble. Keeps his hand on Ivy’s knee as III chuckles over something. Ivy coughs around the tube. But when the nurses show no alarm, they don’t either.
Vessel’s arms snake around his waist. Hold him close. Secure. Safe. Warm breath dances over the skin of his neck. Even warmer lips find his scent gland a moment later. II can feel his first partner’s gratitude. His all consuming love. His silent appreciation. His form of thanks. Actions. Hardly ever words.
III remains calm. His bond, level. Even. Devoid of fluctuations. Devoid of waves. III’s eyes are dry now, red-rimmed as they are. His smile seems genuine. His hands, reverent.
Vessel’s voice, muffled from II’s scent gland, rings softly in his ears.
“You are so unbelievably strong, II.”
II smiles, nuzzling back into Vessel’s loving embrace.
Lavender fields bloom. His Omega sings once more. A rhythmic, happy song. Vessel’s tide becomes a gentle swell. His bond ebbs and flows with it, radiating relief. Radiating unabashed pride. Love. III’s hearthflame coils like smoke, floating by in time with emotions. Steadily present. No longer numbed and fading.
Amber and sun-warmed leather rise above the murkiness of sedation. Above the bounds of illness. Ivy’s bond, his Alpha, lies safe in the arms of Harmony.
II knows the road ahead of them is long. Arduous. Daunting. Scary.
With his mates by his side, he’s far from afraid to walk it.
-
II doesn’t consider himself squeamish.
He realizes how wrong he is as Ivy dry heaves, his whole body shaking. Ivy is partially sedated. His bond is quiet. Numb and devoid of pain, courtesy of the medication provided to him. But there is nothing more agonizing for II than watching his mate writhe in discomfort.
II stares at his shaking hands. Stares at III's bouncing knees beside him. Doesn't look up until he hears a wet pop and the sound of a raspy gasp. II's eyes catch Vessel's first.
Wild. Dark. Dilated. Vessel sits with his hands balled into fists. His bond sings with rage. A byproduct of watching Ivy’s suffering.
II knows that Vessel didn't look away. Offers his mate a wry smile before his eyes dart to Ivy.
Ivy's lips are blue. Purple. Bruised. Chapped. Trembling against his teeth as a nurse gingerly rubs an ice cube across his lips. Soothing the sting. Another nurse attaches a nasal cannula to Ivy's ears, bringing it to his nostrils before gently inserting it.
The whole room holds their breath. Ivy breathes.
“Can you tell me your name?” Dr. Briar asks Ivy, smiling downward at the dazed Guardian. Ivy’s deep blue eyes scan the room. Scan II. III. Vessel. II shifts in his seat, leans in closer as Ivy lets out a rattling gasp.
“I-Ivy Gwilym,” he exhales. The sound breaks II’s heart. The pain in his mate’s voice. The strain is palpable through every broken syllable. Amber and sun-warmed leather dance in the air. Drift into II’s senses. Further proof of life. Further proof of resilience. II swallows thickly, determined not to shed tears.
III sniffles beside him, quietly wiping his eyes.
II can feel his overwhelm. III’s quiet agony. He reaches for III’s bouncing knee, steadying it with his hands. Shaking as they are.
“Do you know where you are?” Dr. Briar continues his questioning. A kind lilt in his voice. The nurses check Ivy’s monitors. Assess his oxygen levels. His heartbeat. Listen to the sound of his lungs as they expand then decompress.
“Hospital,” Ivy whispers, wincing slightly. II reaches with his free hand to clasp Ivy’s twitching own. Ivy’s fingers squeeze his back. Weakly. But it’s overwhelming for him. Feeling Ivy respond to his touch. Respond to him. Seeing Ivy’s deep blue eyes as they catch his own. Ivy’s bruised lips twitch upward in spite of his obvious discomfort.
It’s the prettiest smile II has ever seen.
“Are you in any pain?” Dr. Briar asks, and Ivy slowly shakes his head. “Discomfort?”
“A… little,” Ivy admits, his lips twitching upward into a snarl. II’s heart wrenches from the sight of his wounded Alpha. Knows that Ivy’s instincts know better than to rear their head now. Won’t risk harming him when his body is already so weak. Recovering. Ravaged from the illness that nearly took his life.
“Are you having any trouble breathing?” Dr. Briar asks the burning question. II tenses. III holds his breath. II can feel Vessel’s keen eyes watching. Assessing. Feel Vessel and III’s concern. Their hope. Their faith in their mate.
“No,” Ivy answers, flashing them all a weak smile in spite of the obvious twinge of pain the action brings him. Relief slams through their bond. Their scents. Saturates the air. Settles pleasantly into II’s chest.
“We’re going to run a few tests, then keep you for observation. We’ll try to keep you as comfortable as possible,” Dr. Briar promises with a smile. The nurses go with him, quietly exiting the room but keeping the door open.
For a moment, all is quiet. In the next moment, Ivy breathes in deep.
The sound is music to II’s ears.
“I’m… sorry,” Ivy whispers, and something inside of II breaks. He surges forward, flying off his seat. III scrambles up beside him. Vessel is on the other side of the bed before II can even blink.
“Don’t you dare apologize for this,” Vessel tells Ivy, gently cupping his cheek. II smiles sadly, squeezing Ivy’s hand tighter. III brushes back the Guardian’s unruly hair. “You pushed yourself too hard, love. But we know that you never wanted this. You were trying your best.”
“You quit smoking,” II adds, tracing Ivy's knuckles with his fingertips. Ivy's gaze pierces through him. Intent. Eyes glistening. “You took all of your medication like you were supposed to. It's not your fault that it didn't work.”
“But we all need to take better care of ourselves moving forward,” III tacks on, leaning down to kiss Ivy’s brow. “You’re… alive, Ivy. That’s… that’s all that matters right now. We love you so much.”
“I… love y-you too,” Ivy shakily exhales. The monitors beep. They sound the same as they had before. Normal. Stable. Far removed from the shrill of nightmares that II’s heard too many times to count in their time spent living in the intensive care unit.
Ivy’s words hang in the air between them. His remorse. His heartfelt expression.
II lets his scent reach outward. Expand. Doesn’t worry about the scent neutralizers pouring in from the vents. Knows they won’t affect him as Lavender coils languidly in the air. Honey dances with it. Warm vanilla simmers just beneath.
Ivy’s eyes meet his once more.
“Your mam and tad want to see you on a video call,” II says through a genuine smile. Alys won’t be there. Evan won’t be either. No Jack. No Bryn. No Owen. They’ve all decided this. All decided to shield Ivy from further stress until his body can take it. Until he can. “Do you feel up to seeing them?”
A silly question, II muses, as Ivy’s eyes light up like a shooting star.
He finds it endearing. Always has. How loyal Ivy is to his family. How much he loves them. How much he’s willing to do to provide for them. How he wants to give them a better life.
Evan presenting as a Pliant Omega will break Ivy’s heart.
But his family moving to England, to be closer to them, will excite him. II knows Ivy will love the house they’ve chosen. The one Fore scoured the streets for. Worked so hard to find and secure it.
II wonders if Ivy will mind who found it. Yet, a part of himself knows that Ivy will accept it. Forgive. Forget. Let go.
Near death experiences put things into perspective.
For II. For III. For Vessel. For everyone involved.
II is certain that Ivy will be no different.
“Before… y-you call,” Ivy mumbles out softly. His tone is so far removed from what II knows. It lacks confidence. Bite. Charm. It’s shaken. Scared. Tired. But so undeniably alive. “Want… to… tell you I-I’m happy.”
Happy.
II focuses. Tries to discern it, the elusive emotion beyond the depths of pain. It’s there. Barely noticeable. But the light and life in Ivy’s eyes brightens as his bruised lips move to form another labored string of words.
“Thank you… for s-staying with me.”
II closes his eyes. Bites back tears. Gently pushes past III and dislodges even Vessel as he carefully hugs his mate and listens to the harmonious sound of their mingled breathing.
There are a million words to be said between them. But in that moment, as Vessel leans in against him, and III joins in from the other side, there is nothing left to say.
-
It's a miracle Ivy survived.
That's the general consensus delivered to them from the team in the intensive care unit. A sentiment shared by the emergency department.
Resilience. A Guardian's strength. Alpha. Headstrong. The presence of his mates.
The reasons presented to them are as numerous as they are plausible. II doesn't deny them that.
It's the sentiment of Dr. Briar that haunts him. Rings in his ears as they take Ivy away from the ICU and provide them a room in the observation wing.
If Ivy had arrived any later, he would be dead. If Ivy had collapsed alone, he would be dead.
If Ivy hadn't been on stage alongside them, receiving Vessel's venom and immediate care from medics afterward, he would be dead.
Ivy's transport to the new wing is a celebrated affair. III clutches Ivy's guitar case. The one that houses the shattered, glued together remains of his first guitar. III had worked tirelessly on it. Meticulously. It was far from perfect. It barely made a sound. But III had done his best. Was eager to show their mate when they arrived at their new temporary lodging.
Vessel's arms are full of their belongings. Duffel bags weigh down his forearms. His hands guide their luggage down the sterile white corridors.
II holds little in his hands. Ivy's sweatshirt. The ring he gifted him, the one that matched the others that they wear even now. Three blankets are cradled in his arms. Pressing against his chest. One a warm linen provided by a kind nurse named Emma who took extra care to keep it scent free. One a luxury throw from Vessel. A gift from when their tour began. Soft and unbelievably warm.
The last lies wrapped within it. The baby blanket he took in shame. Desperate for comfort. Longing for home. Longing for a piece of Ivy to have all to himself. Longing for a life that never was there at all.
His Omega hums a somber tune as they walk alongside Ivy's hospital bed. It's wheeled out of the ward by the team of nurses who saved their mate's life. A debt that they could never repay. A debt that they didn't expect them to.
The remaining ICU doctors and nurses clap and cheer as they pass.
When the doors swing shut behind them, II breathes out a sigh of relief. Wilting flowers rising with the warm rays of the sun they pass as they filter in through the hospital's gargantuan windows.
Ivy's shame bleeds through their bond. His longing for home. His sadness and relief at seeing his family.
II has seen Ivy's eyes drift to the flatness of his stomach.
He isn't sure what to say. Isn't sure he's ready to have that conversation. To relive his own hurt.
The room given to them is spacious. More spacious than the last. His Omega delights at the stack of freshly laundered linens left for him. More than plenty for a decent nest when combined with the ones he carries in his arms. The nurses place Ivy's bed in the center. Explain the transfer to them for the third time since they awoke.
Observation. Speech monitoring. Physical therapy. Continued oxygen. More medication.
They know the drill front and back. But one exemption is now given. One that stops Vessel in his tracks.
“You may administer small doses of venom directly into his scent gland,” the eldest of the nurses informs them. II eyes Vessel, watching the surprise form in his eyes. Smelling it in his oceanic scent. “We will see how Ivy responds to the antibodies provided. We don't believe it will be cause for further infection at this time.”
II can feel Vessel’s joy at the news. At the newfound purpose bestowed to him. Can feel his Dominant Alpha’s contentment as it chuffs out a sound that makes Ivy smile weakly in response.
“Once you regain some of your strength, we’ll begin the process of removing the feeding tube and then schedule surgery to reverse the stoma. If you have any questions, or if you start to feel uncomfortable, push the nurse’s button and someone will be with you shortly.” The same nurse continues, flashing them all a slight grin as she corrals the other nurses out of the room once they have Ivy settled.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” III says the moment the nurses leave, breaking the brief silence. The Empath brushes back Ivy’s hair, peppering his hair-line with kisses. “You’re all right now, love. These things kept you alive. Don’t be ashamed of that.”
“I know this is hard on you,” Vessel continues where III left off. His scent climbs the walls. Saturates the lines. Devoids the room of its neutralized air, leaving nothing but the smell of storm in its wake. II walks forward. Lies the blankets in his arms down as III grabs the guitar case one again. “You’re used to doing everything by yourself, but there’s no shame in having help.”
II can’t bring himself to comment on that. The irony of it all. But he knows that sometimes they have to hide things from each other. Important things. It’s no different than how Ivy’s parents hid Evan’s presentation. Or how no one mentioned Owen yet. Or how no one mentioned Fore.
Just like the hidden fees on Vessel’s credit card. Charges he never mentions. A new one pops up almost every time they travel. Quiet penalties for loving an Omega in public. II knows. Of course he knows. But he’ll take his secret to the grave. Let them believe he doesn’t. He’s grateful for his mates. Their want to hide the worst of their world from him. Or perhaps, shield him from it.
“I don't know if this will cheer you up, but…” III trails off. II looks over his shoulder as he begins to arrange the blankets atop the offered couch. Vessel soundlessly shifts their luggage before dragging the other sofa forward. Pushing the two together. II murmurs his quiet thanks, eyes still watching III.
III perches himself on the edge of the hospital bed. Picking up the guitar case and placing it gently across his lap. Ivy's eyes are laser focused. His blue, bruised lips parted slightly as III slowly opens the case.
“I know how much this means to you,” III continues as he carefully lifts the case's lid. II knows what lies within it. The once shattered black guitar. Glued together. Strung with new strings. Strings that can be plucked but hardly make a sound. “I should have left it to an expert, really. But I wanted… to fix it for you. That way you could see it when… when you woke up.”
The room falls silent. II's Omega operates on instinct. Fixing the blankets. But his gaze is not on the makeshift nest. Not on Vessel who stands at his side.
His eyes remain on Ivy's. Deep blue. Glistening. Filled to the brim with love. With sadness. Appreciation. Every emotion that punches through their bond and slams into II's chest.
“It's… perfect,” Ivy manages out, and it's obvious how difficult it is for him to speak. His voice is hoarse. A rasp whisper. Deep and groggy. But III's face lights up in spite of the Empath's teary eyes, and that, II knows, is worth the strain in Ivy's eyes.
“I want to buy you a new guitar when we get home,” III says through a smile. Ivy's eyes are full of mirth. III's eyes crinkle in the corners. Fire flaring. Cedarwood settles in the air. “I know I can never replace this, but… I never got you a proper courting gift. I think it's time we change that.”
“Matching,” Ivy breathes out. Weakly reaches for III’s elbow. II smiles, ducking his head back down and focusing on his task. Making them yet another nest. Another home away from home. “We could… do… something l-like that.”
III's bond explodes with raw emotion. A love strong enough that colors dance in II's vision. His eyes feel damp. His eyelids heavy. Vessel kisses his brow.
“Can you… help me with the nest, Ve?” II asks softly, and it's the first time he's asked this of him. The first time he's ever asked any of his mates for help. His Omega whines in his throat. But Vessel's lips gently swallow the sound. Soft against his own. Comforting. Loving.
“I'd be happy to,” Vessel whispers against his lips. II's fingers grab the baby blanket. Shove it underneath a pillow the moment that Vessel backs away enough for him to move freely.
III and Ivy's quiet conversation thrums in his ears. The most comforting of sounds. He bites back the raw emotions within himself as he makes their nest.
When Vessel places a blanket in the wrong space, rather than roll his eyes or quibble, II offers his mate a beaming, radiant smile.
-
It’s raining.
II listens to the sound of the downpour as it taps against the glass pane window inside Ivy’s new hospital room. Ivy lies fast asleep on the hospital bed. Still hooked up to wires. Still exhausted. But alive. Breathing with only a nasal cannula as his aide. III lies asleep at his side. Looks impossibly small, curled up as he is. Avoiding the wires. The tubes. The machines that beep and whirl in rhythmic, comforting patterns.
II sighs softly, tugging down the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, Ivy’s, as he continues to watch the rain fall. Vessel’s reflection catches his eye as his mate comes to a halt beside him.
“I want to ask you something,” II tells him, his voice a hushed whisper. He watches Vessel’s reflection in the glass. Studies the way his mate tilts his head upward, as if examining the droplets that roll down the windowpane. “I’ve always wondered about this, but I never knew how to bring it up. So, I’m just going to ask. Why are you so… content with the way things are when you clearly want more for this pack?”
II sees Vessel smile through the pane of glass.
“When I met you, I had nothing,” Vessel answers with a slight shrug. “I had even less to offer you. But you never seemed to mind that. You tolerated me. My quirks. My untamed instincts. You never blamed me for them. You were terrified the day that we met. But you heard me out. Let me gain your trust. Let me prove to you that I was someone you’d be safe with. Someone you could rely on.”
“Where are you going with this?” II inquires with a hum. He tilts his head back, glancing sideways over his shoulder. Vessel’s lips twitch upward further. “You’re so sappy sometimes, honestly.”
He says the words with mock annoyance. His sweetened scent betrays his contentment and joy from Vessel’s loving words all the same.
“Everything I have, we earned together,” Vessel continues, taking another step forward. “You never asked me for anything that I didn’t have. Never complained when I had nothing left to give you. You never complained at all, II. You never got angry with me. Or demanded someone else give you something that I couldn’t. I was always afraid that I would never be good enough for you, or to you. All I’ve ever wanted was you. And when it comes to you, nothing else matters.”
“You’ve always been good enough, Ve,” II says sincerely, leaning to the side. His head rests on Vessel’s hip. Deft, skilled fingers thread through his hair. Detangling his pale, wavy locks. “I never asked you for more because I had the things that mattered because of you.”
“Then you understand my answer,” Vessel chuckles quietly. The sound reverberates in II’s ear. It’s always been one of his favorite things. Hearing Vessel’s soothing laugh. His smooth as satin voice. Deep. Rumbling. Comforting. The sound of safety. Of home. “Alphas and Omegas… they’re all the same to me, love. I don’t see you as any different than Ivy and III. You’re no less capable. You might have a harder go at things than we do, and maybe that’s why we prioritize you over each other…”
“Or yourselves,” II notes with a slight frown. He watches Ivy’s reflection through the window. Watches the rise and fall of their Guardian’s chest as III unconsciously shifts closer to their other slumbering mate.
“Or ourselves,” Vessel confirms, his fingers digging soothingly into II’s scalp. “We all need to know when to prioritize ourselves. We can’t be here for each other if we’re… not here at all.”
“A lesson we almost learned the hard way,” II concurs, nuzzling into Vessel’s side. Breathing him in. Listening to the sound of his breathing. The sound of Ivy’s heartrate monitor. III’s soft snorting. The falling of the rain. “When this is all over, and we’re back home for a while to work on the new album, maybe it’s time that we get a fresh start somewhere new.”
“Is this your way of telling me you want a new house, II?” Vessel laughs softly, his deep voice as smooth as velvet as it rings in II’s ears.
“I’m not asking anything from you that you can’t provide for me,” II explains, tilting his head back. He looks up at Vessel. Feels the warmth in his own eyes. The fondness. His first partner. Their safe haven. His. III’s. Ivy’s. II wishes Vessel could understand how much he meant to all of them. Wishes his actions spoke louder than his words, as Vessel’s so often did.
II finds it ironic.
Vessel’s voice was his key to the kingdom. II, his drumming.
Vessel’s words. II’s actions.
Yet, when it comes to this, expressing what they want, their roles were entirely reversed.
“You can provide it for me,” II continues, smiling upward at long-time mate. His best friend. His business partner. The one who kickstarted everything. Who gave him life. Purpose. Who lifted him up and held him aloft when times were hard. He owed everything to Vessel. All their successes. Meeting III. Ivy. It wasn’t he who needed the reminder. It was his stubborn, Dominant mate.
Vessel always did want to provide for them. II feels happy to ask now, knowing that the singer has the means. That they do.
“We’re going to need a bigger house in the future anyway,” II hums, Harmony extending outward. Its aim is not to soothe. But to feel a broader sense of connection. More intense than Ivy’s peaceful sleep. Than III’s quiet calm. Than Vessel’s growing happiness. His barely concealed fondness. His pride. II grins wider when Vessel accepts his Omega’s offering. “If Ivy is well enough for the show in London in November, I was thinking I could come off the heat suppressors after that’s over with. Then, you and I…”
II trails off. Rolls his eyes at the grin Vessel flashes him in response. Wolfish. Charming. Devoid of sorrow. His eyes alight in a way they’ve scarcely been since they arrived. Excitement thrums through their bond. Their scents rise, melding together. Bleeding into one. Lavender blooms floating over an exalted sea.
Vessel leans downward, kissing his brow.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Vessel mumbles, his words muffled by II’s skin. “All of you. I… just want to take you home and never let you all out of my sight again. I can’t get over thinking what could have happened if you hadn’t insisted Ivy joined us on stage that night. He would have been alone, II. We… could have lost him.”
II breathes in deep. Exhales slowly. Rises his scent. Floods Vessel’s bond with the lulling comfort of Harmony.
Vessel chooses to accept its influence. Has never shied away from it. Never once called it what it is. Manipulative.
Vessel makes II feel like maybe he isn’t. Or maybe if he is, it isn’t such a bad thing after all.
“We’re safe, Ve,” II consoles him. Lovingly nuzzling upward into the skin of Vessel’s cheek.
“I’ll get you whatever you want, II,” Vessel says through a shuddering breath. “A sprawling villa. A cottage in the country. A three story manor. It’s yours if you want it. Just… stay with me. Keep this together with me. That’s… that’s all I ever really wanted.”
“I’m never leaving your side,” II soothes him, kissing the warm skin of his cheek. “I love you. We love you, Ve. Don’t ever forget that.”
A flash of lightning illuminates the sky in the distance.
Ivy’s bond continues to radiate comfort for the first time since they arrived in America. III’s bond crackles with the warmth and contentment of a cat, lazily slumbering by the fire. Vessel’s bond swells and surges, a rising tide of overwhelming love. Gratefulness. Melancholy beneath it all.
“We’re going home soon,” II reminds his mate. Affording Vessel his silence. Saving him from continuing the false projection of internal peace when he was still reeling from the trauma of what they endured. The fear. The pain.
Thunder echoes in the distance. But II can’t smell the rain. Only the sea.
Vessel kisses his cheek this time instead.
“Yeah, we’re going home.”
II closes his eyes and leans into the warmth Vessel provides him. He tilts his head back. Embraces the comforting sound of quiet breathing from his mates. The comforting silence. The comforting peace.
The comforting sound of the rain.
Notes:
Next time, Ivy POV returns. ;)
Chapter 26: Resolution
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Fluff and angst. The return to Ivy's POV.
Approximately 6.1k words. A little on the shorter side with this one.
Notes:
Hi, hi!
Before we begin, I just want to once more say thank you for all of amazing, continued support on this fic. I apologize once more for not responding to all of your comments. My crazy hectic start to August continues, but please know that I have read each and every single comment left and it means a great deal to me. So, thank you guys. I am dedicating my free time at the moment to continuing this story. But hopefully I will have a little extra time to respond to more comments as well. I hope you understand! <3
As always, a huge shoutout goes to JayDawnSin for betaing this fic for me! Thank you for all that you do! <3 You're an absolute legend.
And another massive thank you goes to ghostsvessel for perusing this, and for providing feedback!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me cursed images. Send me your thoughts. Send me your energy. I gladly welcome all of it. :)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ivy awakens to the sound of the door to his hospital room quietly opening.
A familiar face stands in the doorway, arms full of take away bags and drinks. Ivy forces his sore lips to smile as Vessel carefully shuts the door behind him with his boot. III lies asleep beside him, snoring softly. II is curled up in the nest, his hand still held firmly against Ivy’s own. Their scents faintly permeate the air.
It comforts him. Now more than ever.
He can't believe he almost died.
Can’t believe his body was almost buried beneath the dirt. Or perhaps incinerated until nothing remained of him but ash and distant, fading memory.
He can't believe he almost left them, his mates. He can hardly believe he almost left his family. His friends back at home in Cardiff. Everyone who was still there, waiting for him to return to the UK. Eager, desperate to see him. His heart aches at the thought of his elderly parents, beside themselves. Trapped an ocean away from him. Unable to reach him.
Ivy misses their nest. Their humble abode on the outskirts of the city. He misses the early morning singing of the insects. The comfort of their front porch and the steps that led up to it that he and III so often lounged upon, foregoing the patio furniture entirely. He misses the backyard, lounging on the outdoor sofa as II slumbers peacefully on his chest. He misses sitting alongside Vessel in the office, strumming his guitar as his Dominant mate answered work emails and nodded his head alongside Ivy’s tune.
He wants to get back to that. Wants to see his family. Wants to sleep in the comfort of their own nest, underneath their own roof.
Ivy knows he’s disappointed people. Namely, their fans. He wishes he could express his own disappointment at the cancellation of their tour, but he knows the futility. Knows that his guilt is self sought. That no one blames him. But it bothers him all the same.
Vessel’s deep voice snaps him out of his reverie.
“To celebrate,” Vessel says softly, beaming downward at him. Ivy watches his mate place the bags on the nearby tray. His stomach churns with delight. The feeding tube is gone now. The stoma thankfully removed. Another successful procedure under his belt. Another milestone achieved.
He's starving, but he grins. He feels alive for the first time in months. Weaker than he was before, thinner and less in control, but awake. Alive.
Slowly, he releases II’s hand, providing Vessel with a way between the couch and hospital bed. His Alpha grumbles lowly in his throat by the way of greeting as Vessel leans down to nuzzle him. Ivy closes his eyes. Breathes him in. His Pack Alpha. His strength. His safety. His neck is sore from where Vessel continues to bite him, administering wave after wave of venom into his sensitive skin. He's thankful for it in spite of the sting.
“We're almost there, love,” Vessel mumbles softly against his cheek. Ivy shudders from the pleasantness of the sensation. His Alpha is tired still. Weak and mostly slumbering. It feels safe in Vessel's arms. In his care. His embrace. “I know I say this every day, but… I'm so proud of you.”
“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you,” Ivy reminds him, his own scent flaring to dance across Vessel's waves. He knows how desperate his mates were to smell it. Familiar notes of amber and leather. But all Ivy can smell is the scent of melted cheese and fryer grease. He resists the urge to moan out of delight as he lulls his head to the side, his eyes longingly darting to the take away bags atop the tray. The source of the divine smell.
“You’re going to be happy with what I got you,” Vessel chuckles deeply, kissing his cheek. Ivy hums, reaching past his mate towards the tray of food. Vessel lets go of him. Side steps Ivy's arm and circles the bed a moment later. “It’s probably the greasiest cheeseburger Texas has to offer.”
“You have no idea how hungry I am,” Ivy says through a genuine smile. He reaches inside the nearest bag, pleased when the food he pulls free is his own.
“Time to wake up, my love,” Vessel rumbles softly as he leans down, cupping II's cheek. II hisses. Angry honey smacking the air molecules as the little Omega creaks open a tired eye. Ivy snorts. The sound no longer hurts his throat. A small victory.
“III, Vessel brought us food,” Ivy calls, placing his burger in his lap as he gently prods the slumbering Empath. III’s eyes fly open, pure joy already brimming in his gaze. Ivy can’t help but laugh, as quiet as the sound still is.
“What a perfect way to wake up,” III's deep, sleep-roughened, voice rumbles. Ivy shifts slightly, making room for his chosen mate as III scrambles upward. “Feed me.”
“Feed yourself,” II chimes in, sitting up with Vessel's assistance. Already rolling his pretty, pale blue eyes. Ivy can feel II’s contentment all the same, sleepy as it is. II shifts alongside Vessel, sitting up with his back pressed against the walls of the makeshift nest. The little Omega shares a look with their Dominant mate. A look that conveys a silent conversation. Something only they know.
Ivy wonders what it is that they’re hiding from him.
II’s flat stomach belies nothing of his state. His scent is always sweet, and it too provides him with no answers. His Alpha wants it to be true. So does he. But…
He knows he’ll be disappointed.
II doesn’t clutch his stomach. Doesn’t shield it as he moves. Doesn’t cradle it as he sleeps.
Ivy tries not to be upset by it, he instead buries it down deep as he unwraps his cheeseburger. He can feel his mates’ eyes on him all the same. They felt everything he did, after all. There was no hiding emotions without great effort and focus.
He finds himself too tired to try.
“This looks incredible,” he says instead, groaning as he lifts the monstrous burger towards his lips. They’re still bruised. Pale shades of purple and blue with pink poking through underneath. It stings as he takes a bite, but the taste alone is worth it. It’s heavenly. The best thing he’s ever eaten, or so it feels like in the moment. II laughs, and Ivy knows it must be from his expression.
They eat in quiet, appreciative silence after that. Ivy tears through his meal, uncaring of the slight discomfort it brings him. Brushing off his mates’ concerned stares as he hungrily devours the seasoned chips and burger topped with oozing, melted cheese. As he reaches for his drink, Vessel finally breaks the silence.
“Are you… comfortable enough to have an important discussion?” The Dominant Alpha inquires with a thoughtful expression. Vessel’s scent floods the room, laced with soothing notes of rain. Ivy sighs around his straw, nodding his head. He was more than well aware that his mates were hiding something. He’s known since he became conscious enough of his surroundings to understand what was going on. To truly understand what happened to him.
How close he had come to death.
“Several important discussions,” III says with a sigh, setting the remainder of his food down on the nearby tray before snaking an arm around Ivy’s shoulders. Mindful of the wires and tubing still connected to Ivy, leading to various machines. Ivy tenses without meaning to. His body still sore from the rehabilitation session from the morning prior. The sensation remains muted, soothed by III’s warmth and presence.
He hadn’t even noticed his own discomfort until then. Too focused on the tantalizing smell and taste of the delicious food offered to him.
And wasn’t that the crux of the issue? The reason why he found himself here in the first place?
His ability to be blinded by his immediate needs and wants. Ignorant of the equally important and noteworthy things transpiring within his own body.
He needs to take better care of himself, he knows. Needs to stop getting so distracted. Enamored with the things and people around him at the detriment to himself. He already knows without asking that if he continues down this path, continues ignoring his body’s wants and needs, he will find himself here again in the future.
He can’t do that to his mates. His family. His friends.
He can’t do that to himself.
“Ivy, I…” II starts, swallowing thickly. Ivy smiles sadly. He knows what comes next. Offers his hand outward, reaching towards his smaller mate as II scoots forward on the makeshift nest. II’s hand rises, taking his. Squeezing it tightly. “I’m not pregnant.” A stomach punch. His Alpha laments. Stirred awake by instinct that ran deeper than anything else in him. A disgruntled chuff escapes his lips. II looks him dead in the eyes, sharing in his somber expression. “I never was. I’m… really sorry.”
“Why would you apologize over that?” Ivy asks through a steadily growing frown. His thumb dances over the back of II’s hand, brushing over soft, pale skin. II’s eyes are dry. Hardened. Ivy never wants to see II in tears. But he never wanted this either. Seeing his little mate’s expression chiseled into unflinching stone. “It’s not your fault, II. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“II told us that he told you, back on the bus,” III informs him, rubbing comforting circles in his back. “We figured you didn’t mention it because you promised to keep it between the two of you. But we know. It’s… unfortunate that things turned out this way. II was… disappointed. We all were.”
That news doesn’t surprise Ivy. Not even coming from III.
He’s always known Vessel’s desire for pups. II’s hidden wants, biological and his own. But III’s fears were not something that Ivy didn’t believe the Empath couldn’t overcome. While not easily conquered or invalid in any sense, III was more than capable of navigating the experience. Making peace with it. Processing. Learning.
III’s emotional intelligence was startling. Honed in instinct and III’s own intellect. As overwhelming as it might have been, caring for their young, Ivy agreed with his other mates’ assessment of III.
The Empath would excel at it, being a parent.
“We can always try in the future,” Ivy promises II, offering the Omega a small smile. “We have all the time-.”
“We almost didn’t,” II cuts him off, frowning deeply. Flowers wilting. Warm vanilla charred, sour. “The three of us have already discussed this, Ivy. We’re done putting things off. You were right when you told me and Vessel to want more for ourselves, that it was okay for us to. We have the means now. The money, the support… we can have it all. A career, and a life, too. A life that we want. A life that I want.”
Ivy can’t help but smile at the vicious glint in II’s eyes. The determination. Even as his scent sweetens once again, turning saccharine. Trying to assuage his mates. Trying to get his way. Trying to ease the pain his Omega expects to endure for expressing its wants. His wants. Even if II has no need for that fear at all.
Still, it was instinct. Baseline Omega Instinct. The fear of reprisal.
“I’m so proud of you,” Ivy whispers sincerely, squeezing II’s hand tighter. Pale blue eyes widen minutely. Blond lashes fluttering. Pale pink lips parting. II is a vision. Even with his blond hair tousled. Even with bags underneath his striking eyes, puffy from sleep. “You deserve it, II. Genuinely, and I… I can’t think of someone better suited for it than you. You have us in everything you do. I… I’m not going anywhere. I promise you.”
“You better not,” II says through a pout. Lavender scent laced with something tooth-rottingly sweet. But before Ivy can offer him more words of reassurance, II’s demeanor shifts. Changes. Ivy can feel his nervousness. “We need to talk about something else. Before I say anything more, I need you to understand that everyone is safe and being looked after, Ivy.”
Ivy’s blood runs cold.
At his side, III tenses before leaning into him. Holding him closer. Lovingly nuzzling against him, leaving behind the comforting scent of his fire. Of cedarwood and hearthsmoke. Vessel wraps an arm around II’s waist, taking a seat at their littlest mate’s side.
“What’s… wrong?” Ivy manages out, feeling his mouth run dry as he forces himself to take a sip of his drink before setting it aside. II breathes in deep, then slowly exhales.
“Your brother presented,” II explains, and Ivy’s heart sinks. It’s nothing good. He can tell that alone by their expressions. He needs to get home. His Alpha shakes itself awake in his chest. Clawing at the walls of his ribs. Sinking its teeth into his throat. Desperate to see Evan. The one whom he presented in defense of, all those years ago. “He presented the same night that you collapsed on stage.”
“I’ve been in communication with your friends back in Cardiff ever since,” Vessel continues in place of II. Ivy’s eyes snap to his. Assessing. Wide. Desperate for answers. “Owen… is watching over him, Ivy. That man… bawled his eyes out when he learned the news of what happened to you. He may have made a horrible mistake and let his jealousy get the better of him, but we have forgiven him for what he did. For all he’s done for Evan and your family since you’ve been ill, I know that you will, too.”
“Why does Owen need to protect him?” Ivy bites out, his bruised lips curling upward into a snarl. Owen is of no consequence to him. Even if he had his quibbles with him. Even if he had a distaste of the man and the way he treated those around him. The way he had spoken to his mate. Ivy got vengeance for it. Justice. Even if it made him sick to his stomach in hindsight. Their relationship wasn’t anything that couldn’t be mended with time and effort. An effort Owen has clearly been putting in. But that is not the pressing matter at hand.
The pressing matter is Evan. His baby brother. His Guardian’s first target designated for protection.
“He’s a Pliant Omega, Ivy,” II says through a genuinely disheartened, stricken frown. Ivy’s world comes screeching to a halt. Horror floods him. Saturates their bond. Sours his scent until it festers. “It was… confirmed by a behavioral analyst, but Vessel knew what it was the night that it happened based off of Alys’ description of him. I’m… really sorry.”
Ivy can’t find the will to speak. Only stares heartbrokenly at his mates as III kisses the stubble on his cheek.
Pliant.
The idea of it terrifies him. Evan, his sweet, smart, younger brother, left entirely to the mercy of those around him. Unable to resist. Unable to deny. Unable to fight back.
Ivy's Alpha is just as devastated as he is.
“II has been in contact with him ever since, giving him advice and listening to him. He has a good support system, my love. Vessel isn’t going to let anything bad happen to him,” III assures him, his honeyed words doing little to offset the sting of the terrifying revelation.
“Ivy,” Vessel says, or rather, his Dominant Alpha does. Vessel’s call of his name echoes with the weight of a command. His scent, absolute. Replacing everything else in the room. His presence unsettles the air itself. Disturbing even the silence. Ivy meets Vessel’s gaze. He doesn’t see pitch black when he looks into his mate’s intense eyes, only caramel. Only rolling, boiling sugar. “I will not let anything happen to him. You have my word. If this is too much for you to handle right now, tell us.”
“There’s…” Ivy cuts himself off, licking his sore, cracking lips. “There’s more?”
Heavy silence follows. A silence in which no answer is needed. It speaks for itself.
“Fore reached out to me, concerned about your condition when he saw that you collapsed on stage,” Vessel confesses, and Ivy can’t help but stiffen. Tense underneath III’s grasp. He wants to hate Fore for all that he did in spite of the fact that the Sanctuary Alpha did his best to make it right. To make amends. To give II back that piece of himself that should have been relinquished long ago.
That should have been disclosed to Ivy in the first place.
He refuses to hold grudges now, but it stings. He doesn’t want hatred in his heart. Doesn’t want his worldview soured anymore than it already is. He wants to be at peace with things and people who wronged him. Wronged his mates. Wants to not worry about what-ifs and different outcomes. Similarities and differences. He wants…
He wants to go home.
He bites his tongue, keeping himself silent as Vessel clears his throat.
“I told Fore if he wanted to make amends with me, he would… scout out property close to our home in London,” Vessel continues, chewing on his bottom lip. It’s rare to see his Dominant mate like this. Nervous. Ivy wonders what Vessel feels at that moment. What III feels. But all he can feel is II’s Harmony, desperately punctuating the air. Begging for peace. “He found a beautiful home, Ivy. Somewhere close by, and in a safe neighborhood. I… I bought it for your family.”
Ivy blinks. His jaw goes slack. Shock washes over him like a slap to the face. Jarring. Immediate.
“They’ll be moving in as soon as we get back home,” II explains, squeezing his hand. Offering him a reassuring smile. “Fore is… going to make sure that the area is safe the day of the move, and then Owen, Jack, and Bryn are going to escort your family and the movers. It’s… a beautiful place, Ivy. Big enough for Alys, Gareth, and the baby, too.”
“Please don’t be upset with us for keeping this from you, sweetheart,” III begs, nuzzling into his skin once more. “We wanted to tell you, but Vess has it under control. We didn’t want to upset you, and run the risk of… making you sick again. We’re sorry for keeping quiet, though. Please understand why we did it.”
“I’m… not angry, I’m…”
What was he?
Overwhelmed? Taken aback? Shocked by Vessel’s generosity? Terrified for his brother’s future? Surprised by Owen’s tears and heartfelt effort to make things right with him and his family? Bizarrely grateful for Fore’s involvement in helping out people who were, to him, essentially strangers, even if it was to pay a debt and make amends?
No, that wasn’t it.
He was…
“I’m grateful,” Ivy returns with a small, barely perceivable grin. He knows it isn’t a pretty sight. Knows he needs a proper haircut. A decent shave. Knows that his lips are bruised and unappealing. But he knows his mates couldn’t care less. Are just grateful that he’s alive. Breathing. Responsive. He knows they can feel his gratitude. Feel the array of emotions that wash over him, lapping at his psyche in waves. It’s a lot to process. But he means what he said wholeheartedly.
He was grateful.
For Vessel. For III. For II. For his family. For his friends. For Fore’s involvement in securing a home for his kin. For Owen’s decisive actions, keeping his brother safe.
Ivy feels whatever animosity he might have had shrivel up inside of himself. Fade away. Crumble into dust, carried away by an unseen wind. Change was never easy. It wouldn’t be any easier for him now. But change was oftentimes necessary. And he refuses to let his near-death experience be in vain.
He needs to change, too.
Forgive. Forget. Let go. Well and truly live.
“Thank you, all of you, for taking care of them. I… I know you understand how much that means to me,” Ivy speaks through a smile. A genuine, happy sort. “I’m… worried sick about my brother, and want to see him with my own eyes, but I… trust Owen to keep him safe until I get there. I just… Thank you, Vessel.”
“They’re our family too,” Vessel reminds him with a lilt. The Dominant Alpha places his hand over Ivy’s and II’s, holding them both with his own. “I promised you that we take care of our own, Ivy. I meant that.”
“We know how overwhelming this is,” III says once more, kissing his brow. “But you can rely on us, love.”
“I know that I can,” Ivy responds without a moment’s hesitation. “I trust you all with my life, and more relevantly… I trust you with theirs. My family’s.”
“I will continue to do everything I can to help Evan get adjusted to things, Ivy,” II speaks up once more. There’s determination in his eyes once again. Hardened steel in his bond. Radiating confidence. Assurance. Everything Ivy needs to hear and feel from exactly who he needs to see it from. “This… isn’t easy, I know that. But we will work through this together.”
“Some things are going to have to change when we get back home,” Vessel says with a nod, holding their hands tighter. “But everything is going to work out, my love. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my promise to you.”
“I just… can’t wait to get back,” Ivy confesses at last, tilting his head back. Wincing from his sore muscles. Knowing that they’ll be made more sore by the end of the day, after the physical therapist visits him once again.
“You should get some rest,” III suggests, brushing back Ivy’s unruly, dark locks. “Why don’t I trade places with little love for a bit?”
“I could use some more sleep,” II admits, sliding off of the couch and out of Vessel’s hold.
“I love you so much,” III murmurs, kissing Ivy’s cheek once more before he moves away from him. Gently lowering Ivy back downward onto the bed. Ivy misses their touches. The feeling of their skin against his own. The feelings of pleasure that they gave and took from each other. His body is still weak. Far too weak for what he desires. What his Alpha desires. Craves.
He stifles his wants, flashing III’s a slight smile.
“I love you too,” he returns as II carefully perches himself on the edge of the hospital bed. Ivy sighs contentedly as II slowly lowers himself down beside him. Ivy doesn’t hesitate to press against him. He curses the wires that halt his movements. The dull sting of the IV still stuck into his arm. But he doesn’t let it deter him.
II snuggles into his side. His warm breath ghosts pleasurably over Ivy’s neck. He tries to mask his own disappointment at the news he received. Evan’s predicament burns the brightest within him. A searing worry that stifles the demands of his instincts. But it can not completely erase them.
He would have enjoyed it. Being a parent. Waking up to the sight of II cradling his stomach. Showing him ultrasound pictures. Planning their future around their newest arrival. The newest addition to their pack. Their family.
“We’re going to take some time to ourselves after Wembley,” II whispers, his voice soft and airy. Vessel and III quietly settle on the couch, sharing in each other’s heat. Each other’s company and embrace. Ivy feels his breath hitch. But before he can speak, II continues. “It was my decision. Vessel and I have been itching to work on some new material, and… writing a new album is the perfect excuse to stay home for a little while.”
“That’s not the only reason though, is it?” Ivy hums softly, gently nudging his mate’s soft hair with his nose. The nasal cannula digs into his nostrils. But II’s comforting scent makes the minor discomfort worth it. Reluctantly, he leans back a little, giving his nose room to breathe without being squished.
Baby steps, he realizes.
If he wants to act on the things that he wants, while maintaining his own needs, it’s going to take time to balance. To find middle ground. A difficult task, he knows. But far from impossible.
He owes his mates that much. He doesn’t want to disappoint them. Not now. Not ever again.
“I told Vessel it was time to try for a pup,” II says with a confident smile. As if he’s no longer afraid of vocalizing what he wants in simple, poignant words. As if he’s been emboldened by all that he almost lost. Ivy hates that it took his near-death for II to realize this. To realize that it was okay for him to have his own wants. His own needs. His own desires.
It didn’t make Fore right about II. Not in the slightest.
It was gradual growth. Gradual yearning. Gradual hope. And even more gradual change.
“Did you promise not to castrate him?” Ivy asks through a cheeky grin. It feels unnatural on his lips, sore and healing as they are. But it earns a bright, crystalline laugh from II, and that… that is something he will never be willing to compromise or risk going without.
“I promised he could fuck me until he’s certain that it takes,” II purrs, and Ivy wonders how long its been since II made that sound. How long it’s been since II’s felt that content. That safe. That playful. That happy. “You can imagine he didn’t take much convincing.”
“I don’t think he would have taken any convincing at all,” Ivy chuckles, nosing at his mate’s hair once more. Breathing him in. Latching onto extended Harmony. Allowing his Alpha a reprieve that it always seeks. The comforting presence of its Omega. His Omega. Theirs.
“I told Vessel and III that I want at least one pup from each of you,” II hums, before a wicked smile twists on his pretty, parted lips. “III said you could be next, you know?"
It’s playfully cruel of him. Riling him up like this. The heartbeat monitor beeps irregularly. Betraying his rapidly quickening pulse. Vessel laughs. III cackles, wheezing until Vessel has to slap him firmly between the shoulders. Helping him not choke on the remnants of III’s drink. II’s giggles are music to his ears. His own, a proof of life. Of his existence.
A hardfought thing worth celebrating. Cherishing.
“I get to be next, huh?” Ivy rumbles, Alpha keen, as he brushes his sore lips against II’s twitching brow. “You say the word, love. You already know that I’m like Vessel. I won’t take any convincing either. I’ll always give you exactly what you want.”
A pup of his own. Their own. Pack. Family.
Music. Touring. Performing. The road.
They didn’t have to give it up entirely. They need only compromise. Make space. For themselves. For their instincts. For their desires.
They need only make use of the time given to them. Never once taking it for granted, again.
-
Ivy’s departure from the hospital is a surprisingly grand affair.
Seven weeks. That’s how long it took. How long it took for him to go from as good as dead to good enough to leave without the assistance of oxygen. Although his nurses still insisted on him using the wheelchair to navigate the hospital’s labyrinthine walls, he didn’t need it.
His strength hasn’t returned to him. Not fully. But he can stand. Walk. Pick things up. Bend down.
They won’t let him walk through the sliding glass doors all the same.
Vessel walks at his side, rolling their luggage. Duffel bags stacked high on the suitcase handles. Holding everything they accrued from their time spent in America. The photos of them on stage. II’s nesting materials. Expensive, soft linens. Their clothes. Their chargers. The few souvenirs and gifts they received both on tour, and from the hospital staff who bid them farewell.
III carries the last of their bags. A backpack slung over his shoulder containing Vessel’s gaming laptop. Another bag full of their toiletries. Another holding a single item that II seemed reluctant to part with. The baby blanket gifted to him during an intense period of mourning and grief.
Ivy’s heart breaks when he imagines it. II clutching onto it like a lifeline, lying down beside Ivy’s unconscious form.
He hates that he put his mates through this. Hates that he didn’t take better care of himself. Hates that he picked up smoking and refused to drop it until it was too late and the damage was done. Hates that he didn’t disclose his history of illness to his mates beforehand out of fear of reprisal.
II pushes his wheelchair, guiding him down the nurse and doctor lined hallway, as the hospital’s staff applaud his departure. It’s familiar. The sound of applause. The feeling of eyes on him. A deafening roar after the conclusion of a song. Only now, it’s for surviving. For fighting.
Not for a performance.
A miracle.
That’s the general consensus amongst those involved in his care.
His survival is a miracle. His recovery time, a miracle. There was no disputing it, their experience and opinions on the matter. Ivy felt lucky. Knew he was lucky. Doesn’t take a single moment for it granted as he mumbles his thanks to the people who saved his life. The people who held his mates together in his absence. Who gave them the information that they so desperately needed.
Who made his mates feel as at home as possible in the white, sterile walls of the hospital itself.
“Good luck to you,” Dr. Briar says with a curt nod. A beaming smile. The last smiling face that stands between them and the exit of the hospital, where their taxi awaits them.
Vessel sets aside their luggage. Shakes Dr. Briar’s hand. Clapping the doctor on the shoulder with a loud, echoing thud.
“Thank you,” Vessel exclaims, his words dripping with sincerity. His scent punctuates the air. Crisp ocean air. Storm clouds on the distant horizon. Ivy’s grateful for that, too. Being alive to smell it and know that that is his mate. His Alpha. A man who sacrificed so much for him and expected nothing else in return.
Ivy can never repay Vessel.
He wants to spend the rest of his life trying to.
“It’s been my pleasure watching Ivy’s recovery and playing some small role in it,” Dr. Briar answers with a charming, warm tone. “Take care of each other out there. And don’t forget, you can always give us a call if you have any questions or concerns. I wish the best of luck to all of you, and especially to you, Ivy. You’ve been given a second chance at life. Now go out there and live it.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” Ivy says, extending out a hand as Dr. Briar parts from Vessel, moving to take his offered limb. Ivy shakes his hand. For the first time in days, his hands don’t shake. His arms don’t hurt. He grips the other man’s hand, and firmly squeezes it. Smiling. “Thank you for everything, Dr. Briar. I’ll never forget your words, or what you’ve done for me.”
Dr. Briar chuckles, clasping his hand before slowly releasing it.
“Take care on the long road ahead,” Dr. Briar says, extending his hand next to II. Then III. Against societal norms. Against social protocol.
Ivy’s smile turns into a full blown grin.
Dr. Briar politely excuses himself, ducking down the hall and out of their way, leaving nothing but open space before them. Ivy swallows thickly, watching the outside world through the remaining windows as hospital patients and visitors pass by them in the background.
“Our taxi is waiting,” Vessel says, stepping in front of them once more with their bags in tow. “We’re one short car ride away from the airport, then a nine hour plane ride.”
“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Ivy confesses, raising a hand to brush over his freshly trimmed stubble before smoothing back his hair. It feels soft beneath his fingertips, courtesy of III’s skilled hands and expertise. “I also can’t wait to sleep in our own nest. The hospital bed killed my back.”
“You’re not allowed to joke about dying anymore,” II huffs, playfully swatting at the hand in his hair. Knocking it away. Ivy can’t help but chuckle as he tilts his head back. Taking in II’s unamused expression. “I’m half tempted to not let you out of the nest for at least a week.”
“We have to stay on top of his physical therapy, remember, love? You’re the one who found him a good PT back home,” III chimes in, readjusting the straps of their bags over his shoulders. “We’re going to have guests for a few days, too. We can’t keep Ivy locked away like a princess.”
“I could,” Vessel muses, flashing them a wolfish grin. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
Ivy’s cock twitches in his loose sweatpants. II’s contentment through their bond quickly morphs into amusement.
“Someone really is feeling better, huh?” II teases, leaning downward, trying to kiss his cheek.
Ivy turns his head. Presses slightly bruised lips against II’s own. Swallowing the little Omega’s surprised sound. Lavender coils around him. Vanilla soaks into his bones. Honey rises, greeting him. II’s lips are soft. Damp, warm velvet against his own. He tastes like mint and his favorite energy drink. He tastes better than any food Ivy’s ever had before. Better than the first burger after not eating for six weeks. Better than the finest aged bourbon, or the most expensive cut of steak.
Ivy wishes he could devour him. Spend forever with II on his tongue.
He never wants to go another day without it. Go another day without kissing II. Kissing III. Kissing Vessel.
Telling his mates how much he loves them. How much he always has. How much he always will.
II smiles against his lips, and all Ivy can feel from him is love.
Harmony extends its unseen hands outward. The Guardian, as he always has before, immediately reaches back.
“Enough you two,” Vessel’s deep voice cuts through the air, causing them to part. “We’re going to miss our flight.”
“Can’t have that now, can we?” III teases, stepping forward. Ivy blinks as the Empath playfully nudges II aside, taking his place.
Ivy laughs against III’s lips when they gently press against his own.
This time, Vessel doesn’t interrupt him. Doesn’t ask for them to part.
III tastes like fire and hearthsmoke. Tastes like the forest that clings to his skin and the charcoal of his toothpaste. Ivy breathes him in. Lets his Alpha grumble and whine as it greets its chosen mate. Drinks in the delighted sound that III’s Empath emits through him, a sound easily muffled by the meeting of their lips. His heartbeat quickens. His chest feels liable to explode.
It’s not the pain of dying that grips him. He’s felt that pain twice before.
It’s the promise of the return to normalcy. To days spent in bliss alongside those he loves. Performing. Seeing the world. Providing for their families and for each other. Their journey is unlikely to look the same as it once did, Ivy knows that Vessel’s words ring true. Some things had to change.
But he’s not concerned about the outcome or the destination. He knows, trusts, that his mates will be there with him. Walking at his side every step of the way.
“Enough, enough,” Vessel laughs, and it’s still one of Ivy’s favorite sounds. III flashes him a brilliant grin, and Ivy takes no small amount of pleasure in watching the Empath’s eyes crinkle in the corners. Still one of his favorite sights. Vessel once more sets their bags aside, stepping forward. Ivy looks up at him as Vessel leans down, cupping his cheeks with a wolfish grin. “Are you going to let me take you home now, Guardian?”
Home. Back to the life they held together. Back to where their relationship first started. Back to where his family awaits him now, desperate to see and embrace him.
Ivy’s lips pull back wider as he nods his head.
“Yeah,” he answers with a lilt in his no longer strained tone, “take me home.”
Vessel’s eyes dilate. An abyssal sea eating away at liquid caramel. Ivy could lose himself forever in Vessel’s gaze. He wouldn’t mind that at all.
But there’s nothing he prefers more than this, the feeling of his mates surrounding him as Vessel’s lips finally, desperately, crash into his own.
He no longer feels the sting.
Thirteen hours to London.
Ivy kisses Vessel back with a smile.
Notes:
The end is in sight, but we still have a little ways to go. I hope you are looking forward to it as much as I am.
Chapter 27: Symphony
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Light angst applies. But that is all. :)
6.5k words in total.
Notes:
Hi, hi!
So... the end is in sight. Very much so. As we get closer to the end of this fic, I just want to express my gratitude for the sheer amount of overwhelming support this fic, and I, have received. I've made a lot of new friends thanks to writing this, and it holds a very special place in my heart. Thank you all so much for that. :)
As always, an absolutely massive shoutout goes to JayDawnSin for betaing this fic for me! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Thank you for tolerating me. :,)
Another massive thank you goes to ghostsvessel for perusing the first half of this. I always appreciate your input! Thanks also goes to hijackedhalfdeity for the feedback. You're so appreciated! <3
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me cursed images. Send me your thoughts. Send me your energy. I gladly welcome all of it. :)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Home.
It's exactly as Ivy remembers it. Exactly as they left it. A little dustier in places. The pack’s scents muted throughout the rooms. Mail piled up in the mailbox. But the yard was maintained while they were away. The lights alternated every night on a timer, scheduled to Vessel's liking.
It's dark when they arrive. The land around their house is dark. Quiet. Accompanied only by the faint humming of insects, hidden in the grass and surrounding plant life.
Tomorrow will be chaos, but it's a chaos Ivy looks forward to.
Come morning light, his family will be escorted to their new abode from Cardiff. His brother guarded by Owen, with Fore serving as added security. Awaiting their arrival.
Ivy finds it strange. He should be anxious. But there’s peace instead.
Owen's debt has been forgiven. Fore's an even harder earned thing. II says he has forgiven him. Ivy reasons that he should, too.
He owes them his thanks, he supposes. They all do. But for now all he can think of is their awaiting nest.
All he can think of is sleep.
Vessel drops their bags in the entryway before striding past them inside. Ivy finds himself tiredly smiling, leaning on III for support in absence of his usual strength, as the Dominant Alpha scours his territory. Claiming it as his own once more. Marking it as safe for the pack as a whole.
“Not going to complain about Vessel messing up the scent-work, little love?” III asks teasingly, earning a pointed stare from II.
“You know as well as I do that this is going to take weeks to fix,” II tuts, reaching for duffel bags. The ones he was more than capable of carrying on his own. Not that they'd ever make him unless he wanted to. “I have Evan to consider as well. But for now, Vessel's scent might actually be calming for him.”
“I don't want to let Evan out of my sight,” Ivy confesses, his Alpha grumbling lowly in his throat. III offers him a sympathetic expression, holding him just a little bit tighter. Warm wafts of hearthsmoke wash over him in a bid to calm. Tired Harmony offers him a brushing glance of ghostly lavender notes.
“I'll help him get into the same program I was in,” II says, shifting his weight. Ivy can see the exhaustion in his pale blue eyes. Feel it in their bond. But none of them move deeper into the house. Lingering in the entryway until Vessel returns to retrieve them.
“What program was that?” Ivy inquires, leaning more heavily into III's side. His body aches, still not accustomed to being mobile once more. He reminds himself he's still healing. Healing from being comatose. Healing from surgery. Healing from the very combination of disasters that nearly took his life.
He feels like he could sleep for weeks, but thinks better of voicing his desire. His exhaustion. Dreads to think what his offhanded commentary would do to his mates and their psyche after everything they've endured.
“Shelter,” II answers with a hum. Footsteps thunder in the distance, echoing throughout the house. Ivy snorts, knowing Vessel will be coming back down the stairs in a matter of mere moments. “It's a protective escort service to and from classes, work, and shopping marts. We can consult with them at the very least.”
“I hate that it's necessary,” III says through a sigh, shaking his head slightly. Ivy watches the Empath's tangled, golden locks as they sway. His eyelids are heavy. The motion, distracting. “But we shouldn't have to worry about it for a while since we plan on staying put for the time being.”
Before anything else can be said, Vessel’s footsteps draw closer. Not a moment later, he emerges from the stairwell.
There’s something wild in Vessel’s eyes. Dark. Dilated. Honed by instinct. Vessel’s Alpha guides him, evident in the breathtaking intensity of his scent. Ivy blinks dumbly at his Dominant mate as Vessel strides forward, coming to a halt before him. In the next moment, his feet are lifted from the ground. III’s arm slips away as Vessel carefully, delicately, cradles Ivy to his chest.
“Bed,” Vessel says, but doesn’t. His Alpha speaks through him. His voice deep and rumbling. Commanding.
Ivy sighs softly, not fighting his mate at all. Melting into Vessel’s hold. His Alpha is keen on being sheltered now. Keen on being comforted. It is, after all, weaker than it’s ever been. And Vessel is… immovable. Unbelievably strong. Physically. Mentally.
Ivy’s Guardian may not possess a biological response to Vessel’s Dominant, but its own experience shaped its responses now.
He doesn’t purr. He isn’t quite capable of emitting such a sound. But the whine that escapes his throat is the closest he’ll ever get to reproducing the sound. Vessel lets out a resounding, deep drone in response.
It used to make his hair stand on end, hearing that particular vocalization. Now, he can only smile.
II and III follow closely behind them. II tucked safely into the middle, holding his duffel bag full of soft, expensive linens once again. III quietly brings up the rear, bracketing their smallest mate between himself and Vessel as they ascend the familiar stairs.
Their bedroom looks the same as he remembers it.
Soft, warm lighting. Inviting colors. Their belongings neatly tucked away in the bedroom’s four corners. Vessel’s scent covers the faint smell of dust. Their fading scents from prior to their departure still lightly permeate the room.
“We’re home,” Vessel’s deep voice pierces the silence. There is something undeniably sad in his tone. Ivy knows the thought has occurred to him on more than once occasion before, but he laments not being able to feel it, his Dominant partner’s emotions.
II’s abrupt sadness speaks volumes all the same.
As Vessel leans down in an attempt to deposit him on the nest, its covers already peeled back in invitation, Ivy refuses to let him go. Vessel tilts his head to the side. Ivy looks upward at him and smiles.
“I was promised once that you’d cling to me like a sloth and never let me out of your sight,” Ivy reminds him with a small snort. His Alpha delights as much as he does when the sound escapes him without the barest hint of pain. “I want what I was promised now.”
Vessel’s bottom lip trembles before a wolfish fang catches it. Steadies it. If he were anyone else, maybe Ivy wouldn’t have noticed it at all. But it was Vessel. His Vessel. It was impossible not to see it. Impossible for the sight to not break his heart.
“Let me… get everyone settled first,” Vessel requests, and Ivy knows there’s no sense in denying him. Vessel was operating on instinct now. His body exhausted, controlled not by conscious thought, but by sheer instinct. His Alpha’s presence burns like boiled sugar as Ivy catches his eyes. Sees the fire in them. The fight beyond the exhaustion. The remnants of dutiful desire in his mate’s expressive, dark eyes.
Ivy lets him go slowly, maintaining his tired smile. Even when he misses Vessel’s warmth immediately. Even when his Alpha whimpers from the loss.
All is made right within him as II climbs atop the mattress beside him, carrying a slate gray blanket in his arms. The scent-work on the linen is perfect. Expertly crafted. A familiar comfort. A reminder of their pack’s cohesiveness. A reminder of their unity. A reminder of the experiences they endured together. A reminder of the once readily available scent of their home.
“I’m so glad to be home,” II speaks softly. His warm breath ghosts over the stubble and skin on Ivy’s cheek. It causes him to shiver as III slips in behind II, something once so foreign. The Empath almost constantly a heat leech, glued to Ivy’s back or side. “I’m so… glad you’re okay.”
There’s relief in II’s words. His bond. His scent. Minute wafts of lavender. Distant swathes of honey. Vanilla and spices, simmering on low heat. Perfuming the air with comforting, familiar notes.
“We have eleven hours until your family arrives,” III reminds them with a yawn. Ivy watches through half-hooded eyes as III’s arm snakes around II. Drawing their littlest mate closer. Holding him firmly against his chest. Ivy’s lips twitch upward as III’s hand extends once more, resting on his side. Just above the still-healing wound on his stomach. A scar that was unlikely to fade with time.
“The others will take care of everything,” II mumbles through a yawn of his own. A seemingly contagious thing between them. Ivy’s lips move to form the same soundless exhale, something that his mates share a quiet laugh over. “We’ve talked about this the entire way here. I know it’s important, and I know how badly you need to see them. But let’s just… talk about something else for a while.”
A sniffle silences the room.
It is painfully quiet. Almost imperceivable. But it’s there. Hushed. Agonized. Raw. Exhausted.
II’s bond radiates immediate concern. Immediate worry. III is untangled from II’s limbs and off the bed before Ivy can even blink his eyes.
“Vess, love, come here,” III coos, and it, too, is devastated. Saccharine in its sweetness. Genuine in its sorrow. Ivy tips his chin down slightly, past the gray blanket he shares with II, just in time to catch sight of Vessel’s eyes.
Or rather, the tears in them.
Ivy’s heart sinks. His blood runs cold. Vessel all but collapses in III’s arms as II scrambles to sit upright. Ivy tries to prop himself upright, his elbows bearing his weight, but II’s hand gently stops him.
He’s never felt so useless in his life.
Vessel’s tears are for him. From him. Their ordeal. His illness. His brush with death. Everything they survived. The stress added by Ivy’s own family. His kid brother. Canceling a sold-out tour. Disappointing untold fans. Quarreling with their label. Paying out of pocket for another home. Helping II and III cope with their almost near loss of him. Watching II mourn the loss of something that never was. Vessel mourning it himself all the same.
It had to be too much for him. A ticking time bomb. A mantle far too heavy to carry. A burden unlike any other.
“I have you, love,” III coaxes Vessel, and it’s easy for Ivy to forget at times how strong III is physically. How tall he is. How he stands even taller than Vessel. How his lithe body belies the muscles that the Empath has, muscles that Ivy’s fingertips and tongue have spent hours tracing. III holds Vessel upright without apparent strain. Without apparent effort. A solid, unmovable wall. Uncrying. Unflinching.
Once more possessing what used to be an eerie, unshakable calm.
“I… got you… all home,” Vessel chokes out, and the sound will never not destroy something in Ivy.
Hearing Vessel cry on stage wounded him, but it was easy enough to separate. Tears for a pain long since healed. A pain long since accepted. Reconciled. Dissected and learned from.
He’s only seen Vessel cry twice off-stage.
The first was on their bathroom floor, the night that Fore arrived on their doorstep. The night that Ivy’s world tilted on its axis. The night that Vessel broke down the bathroom door over the sound of his tears, and pulled him securely in his arms. The night that Ivy almost walked away from them. The night that he considered it. The night that his mother talked him down. An act that he could never hope to repay. Not monetary, and not with kindness.
The second…
The second is now.
The oceanbed runs dry in their presence. III’s warm fire and forestry the most present, and grounding, of scents. II’s hand gently eases him back, and not a moment later, II lies down at his side. Ivy frowns at him. Frowns at the sadness in pale, glimmering blue. But II merely offers him a smile.
“He needs to see this,” II whispers quietly, his words almost entirely drowned out by Vessel’s gut-wrenching sobs. “He needs to see the both of us here. Safe in his territory. In our own nest.”
Ivy knows he’s right.
II usually is.
Vessel’s sobs are agonizing. But Ivy and his Alpha both know what needs to be done. Who to listen to. Who to defer to. II is well versed in Vessel’s needs. His desires. His instincts. His emotions. As his first partner. As his Omega. As his best friend.
“You’ve been so incredibly strong, Vess,” III’s voice is as smooth as satin. Deep. Soothing. Grounding. Their pack’s true emotional center point. The one they all rely on for support. For quiet strength. For presence. For pretty smiles and calming words. For a love with boundless depths and compassion. “It’s all right, beautiful. You’re allowed a good, ugly cry. I’ve got you, doll. II and Ivy are safe, see? They’re right there, love. Nice and comfortable thanks to you.”
III speaks nothing but the truth. Speaks words Vessel needs to hear. That they all do. A heartbroken moment of painful healing. A relieving end to what was nearly a fatal, cautionary tale.
Vessel deserved more than a good cry for all his efforts. For his strength. For his leadership. His calm demeanor, and his unflinching ability to take the world upon his shoulders without complaint or ire.
Ivy wants to hold Vessel in his arms. Breathe in his scent. Let amber and sun-kissed leather seep into his mate’s skin until Vessel understands that he’s alive. Alive, and home. Not leaving. Not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever. Not until he’s lived a very, very long life at their side.
But III has Vessel.
And Ivy can think of no one he trusts more in that moment than III.
II nuzzles sleepily into his side, but Ivy can feel his muted somberness. It wasn’t easy, hearing Vessel cry. Ivy knows it goes against II’s instincts, catering to Vessel’s own. Vessel needs to see them here, like this. Lying in their nest. Safe beside each other. But II’s Harmony needs to comfort. To extend its shaky hands. To offer peace, and respite.
Ivy turns his head slowly, brushing fading-bruised lips over II’s brow as the little Omega nuzzles into his side.
He knows his role in all of this, after all. This pack. This family.
He knows when to play it, and when to take a bow.
When to play to his strengths. When to defer to someone else’s. When to fight back. When to compromise. When to submit. When to dominate. When to take charge.
And most importantly, when to trust.
“Are you comfortable?” Ivy asks II softly as Vessel sniffles something about being tired underneath his breath. It hurts a piece of him every time he hears Vessel’s pain spike, but he forces himself to remain calm. Bites back his own instincts. Silences his own Alpha.
“I am,” II hums softly. Rhythmic. Punctuated. It licks the edges of Ivy's instincts. Hushes them. Vessel's ragged breathing catches. Comes out in bursts of staccatoed exhales, timed perfectly with II’s tired lullaby.
“You should go lie down with them, love,” III's voice still has that same unshakable calmness in its cadence. Soothing. Placating. It works alongside the offered Harmony. Taints their scents slightly sweeter. More prominent. Comforting. “Or do you want me to hold you for a change?”
“Lie down beside Ivy, Ve,” II suggests, stretching out his limbs. Yawning slightly. There’s worry in his bond still. A certain level of lingering unhappiness. A byproduct of Vessel’s rare, painful tears. “Let III hold you, too.”
“What… What about you?” Vessel inquires, and it’s impossible not to hear the discomfort in his voice. His tears. His exhaustion. But his scent begins to return all the same. The former ocean, a tidepool. The storms on the horizon, a drizzle. It’s better than the dry ocean floor. Better than clear skies. It brings a sympathetic smile to his lips as II snuggles in close.
“Don’t worry about me for once, Ve. Besides, Ivy’s got me,” II suggests. Instructs. Closes his pretty eyes to hide the sadness in them as Ivy turns his head, nosing at their littlest mate’s hair. It’s still soft. Pale, wavy blond. It tickles the skin of his nose. Brushes against his lips, causing them to twitch. It smells like II. Devoid of perfumes. Washed with scentless shampoo. The lavender makes his eyelids heavy. The honey soothes his nostrils. His throat. The spiced vanilla comforts him. Reminds him of his mother’s baked goods, back from when he was a child.
III mumbles something that Ivy can’t quite hear, but it doesn’t matter. In the next moment, the bed dips beside him. Ivy lies on his back still. Body still healing. But he presses a kiss to II’s crown before slowly turning his head. Vessel’s red-rimmed eyes fill his gaze. He leans into Vessel, resting their heads together as the Dominant Alpha carefully curls up at his side. II’s hand takes Ivy’s arm, holding it close to his body.
When the bed dips once again, Ivy’s pleased when III lies down behind Vessel. Spooning him. Holding him close as Vessel lets out a shaky exhale.
Held together by them for once.
The blankets drape over them, courtesy of III. They’re slightly musty. Almost scentless from disuse. None of them complain. Only lie closer together in silent response.
“Thank you for bringing us home,” Ivy whispers into the skin of Vessel’s brow. His Alpha sings. His heartbeat quickens. Vessel sniffles once. Then twice. But finally, he responds.
“We’re… finally home.”
Silence comes easy to them, as it always has, even when there is more to say. Ivy’s learned to appreciate the silence. The calm. The sense of presence without expectation. He could stay like that forever, basking in the quiet love of his mates.
II’s breathing evens out the moment that Vessel’s eyes dry. III’s soothing words do not cease until Vessel shuts his swollen eyes, and his brow no longer creases. Ivy meets III’s gaze as the bassist peers down at him from his place on Vessel’s neck. Warmth dances in blue-green eyes, crinkling in their corners. Love blooms in deep, oceanic blue.
He squeezes II’s hand once. Nuzzles into Vessel. Shares one final glance with III before the comforting sense of home settles into his bones. The pleasant, mingling sensations weave around him, lulling him to sleep.
-
Joy. Tears. Pure and utter chaos.
Ivy is overwhelmed with emotions from the moment the front door to their home swings open in the early hours of the afternoon. His mother is the first through the door. The first to run to him. He hasn’t seen her move that quickly in years. Her tired, elderly body just doesn’t allow it. Her motherly instincts surpass her physical limitations in the end.
Ivy holds her close. Buries his face into her shoulder as she sobs into his arms. Stroking his hair. Clutching onto him with shaking limbs as his father barrels into the home and joins them. They hold him fiercely, but delicately. Handling him like precious glass. His father ruffles his hair. Mumbles words of love seldomly expressed into his ear, as Ivy wraps his arms around them both.
“I’m okay now,” Ivy tells them, slipping into his mother tongue with familiar ease. He hates seeing tears in his mom’s eyes. Hates seeing the even rarer sight of his father’s watery gaze even more. He bites back his own discomfort as he offers them a small smile. “I’m sorry, mam, tad. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”
“You don’t get to do this to me again,” his mother hisses, and it reminds him once more of being a child. Being scolded by his mother. “You don’t get to leave this earth before your father and I. You have got to take care of yourself, sweet boy. You… you can’t go on like this.”
Ivy sighs softly as he releases them. Wipes his mother’s tears with his thumbs a moment later as she looks up at him. Her lips quiver. Her mascara smudges. He wipes away the inky blackness, staining his skin a familiar shade of black.
“I know, mam,” he says through his still present smile. “I’ve learned my lesson this time. I promise.”
“Ivy?”
His world comes crashing to a halt.
Strawberry. Cream. Sugar.
Nauseatingly sweet. Far more saccharine a scent than even II’s on the cusp of heat. Ivy’s heart sinks as he slowly releases his hold on his mother’s cheeks. His eyes trace the room to the speaker. Flit over Alys and her round stomach, standing alongside her husband. Dart over a smiling Jack, a nodding Bryn, and an absolutely gutted looking Owen. Ivy sees Fore in the doorway, speaking softly and quietly with III.
His eyes don’t linger there either.
Standing beside II, with tear filled eyes and a wobbly smile, stands Evan.
His baby brother. His reason for presenting. His first precious fixation that demanded his protection.
Ivy’s body is still healing. Still sore from physical therapy. Still recovering from surgery.
He moves with fluidity. Speed that belies his state. Evan flies with equal urgency into his arms.
The hug he pulls his brother into is bone crushing. His Alpha howls in his chest, escapes his lips in a garbled, terrible growl. A sound of despair. Of love. Of sympathy. How his baby brother could never freely walk the streets again. How he’d spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. Avoiding people. Avoiding the places he loves. Being so easily commanded by those around him. So easily influenced. A fate oftentimes deemed worse than death itself.
“You’re safe now,” Ivy shushes his brother’s cries. Rubs soothing circles into his back. Evan’s tears soak the collar of his shirt. II’s melancholy bleeds into Ivy’s own. The room around them is suddenly quiet. “I have you, okay? Not gonna let anything bad ever happen to you either. You don’t have to be scared. I’ve always protected you, haven’t I?”
Evan doesn’t say anything. Time screeches to a halt. Ivy shushes his baby brother, smoothing back his hair. Lets his own scent of amber and leather seep into Evan’s skin, scenting him. Calming him. Reminding him of his presence. Of his promised protection. Of his presence.
His life.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ivy promises, rocking them gently back and forth as Evan clutches at his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Ev. I know you’re scared. You’re okay now. Everything is going to be okay.”
“I missed you,” Evan finally manages out in between sobs. There is nothing worse than this. Hearing his brother in so much pain. So scared. So nervous. So uneasy. Nothing worse for any decent Alpha than seeing an Omega fall apart at the seams. Nothing worse for a Guardian than watching someone under its protection afraid for their safety.
“I know you did,” Ivy grimaces, clasping onto him tighter. Trying to calm him further. Holding him close. “I missed you, too. Has everyone been taking good care of you?”
“Yeah,” Evan sniffles, nodding weakly against him. “Owen’s been… staying with us, and taking me places with mam. Theo’s… been nice today, too.”
Fore. Theo.
Ivy swallows that information. Breathes out as he, too, nods against his brother.
“Has anyone given you any problems?” He inquires, squeezing Evan’s shoulders. Smelling his sickeningly sweet scent. It breaks his heart all over again. His brother has no control over it. Not yet. His scent on the maximum output at all times. A freshly presented Omega, announcing its presence. It’s beyond mortifying given Evan’s Pliant nature.
“No,” Evan mumbles, shaking his head. Sagging against him. Tired. Mentally exhausted. Resigned. Ivy shushes him again. Rocks them gently back and forth, using every bit of his strength to keep them both aloft.
Abruptly, a hand rests on the small of Ivy’s back. His head snaps up. Dark, caramel eyes meet his own. Evan whines in his arms. Buries his face into the crook of Ivy’s neck, as if trying to hide himself away.
Ivy knows what it feels like. Remembers it from the first time that he met Vessel. It’s far from Evan and Vessel’s first meeting, but it’s their first since Evan’s presentation. It’s undoubtedly overwhelming. A lot to process. Too much to process. Too much fear to reconcile.
Vessel steadies them. Takes some of the weight off of Ivy’s sagging shoulders. Grounding Ivy so that he may, in turn, ground Evan. Ivy knows that Vessel doesn’t understand their conversation. He doesn't speak Welsh. But he also knows that his Dominant mate doesn’t need to understand his mother tongue to infer what transpires in their conversation. Vessel can feel it through their bond, even if it is once sided.
And when Vessel speaks, his voice is as smooth as silk. Deep and reverberating. Clear in its intention.
“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Vessel whispers, his words aimed directly at Evan. “I can’t even begin to imagine how lost and scared you must feel. But know this, you have your brother, you have me, and you have III to protect you. You have II to rely on for support and understanding. You are far from alone in this. You are welcome here at any time, Evan.”
“I understand,” Evan speaks, but it is through the voice of his Pliant. Soft. Meek. Mousy. Far removed from the Evan that Ivy once knew. Jovial. A jokester. Light hearted. He doesn’t know if things can ever be that way again. Too much has happened. Too many things have changed. But he vows to do everything in his power to give his brother his life back. His agency. His smile.
“Come here,” Ivy’s mother beckons, reaching for Evan. Ivy reluctantly lets him go. Smiles sadly at his teary eyed mam as she brings Evan to her side and soothingly pets his hair. “My beautiful, brave boy. Everything is fine now.”
It is not the truth, but it is what is needed.
The movers have a tall task ahead of them. Unloading two trucks while Ivy’s family is away. One filled to the brim with old belongings. One filled to the brim with new furnishings and appliances. But when the sun is sure to set, their task will be completed. His family will begin their new life, courtesy of Vessel. He can feel their appreciation for Vessel in their gazes. See their eyes meet the Dominant Alpha’s. See a thousand unspoken words exchanged between them.
Vessel slowly backs away from his side, his hand falling away as he passes. Fore still lingers in the doorway, as if reluctant to enter. Ivy chews on his thoughts in that fleeting moment. His feelings. His apprehension. But when he turns his head, he catches II’s eyes. It feels like they never even left him. As if they’ve been on him and him alone since the moment that Evan had flung himself into his arms.
II does not look at Fore. He does not look at anyone. Only Ivy.
All Ivy can feel is his love.
“Do you want to talk to him?” Ivy asks quietly, stepping forward. Head bowing down low. Jack and the others await him. A reunion weeks in the making. There are still tears in Owen’s eyes. A sadness in Bryn’s. A sympathetic understanding in Jack’s gaze. But at that moment there is only II. Pale blue slowly closes. Blond lashes flutter.
Ivy feels happiness in their bond, even when II reopens his eyes. Even when he finally meets Fore’s gaze as Vessel allows the Sanctuary Alpha inside.
II and Fore lock eyes.
Ivy doesn’t feel any love in II’s bond at all. Only appreciation. Only quiet fondness. Only what can be described as forgiveness. Hard-fought, hard-earned, forgiveness.
“I think I’m… good for now,” II says, nodding by the way of thanks and greeting toward Fore. When II turns back around, he offers Ivy a smile. A beautiful, radiant, genuine smile.
Ivy feels like he’s been blinded by it before.
Love blossoms between them in earnest. Amber and lavender. Sun-warmed leather and spiced vanilla. Honey seeps into the cracks between them.
“You’ve got people you need to see,” II reminds him, stepping forward. Ivy leans down on instinct. Smiles when II kisses him. His lips no longer sting. They no longer ache from bruising. His heartbeat quickens. His breath catches, but it is now without panic. II’s lips are soft velvet against his own. “Worry about what you need to do for once, Guardian.”
II is right, Ivy muses, as his littlest mate walks away.
He usually was, he repeats to himself, grinning wider as he pulls his pregnant sister into the most grateful of hugs.
-
Peaceful.
It’s the first time in months, conscious or not, that Ivy’s felt a true sense of peace. His mother, sister, and II laugh together in the kitchen. Trading cooking tips over the gas burning stove. Fragrant spices and the smell of marinated meats mingle in the air. Evan, seemingly growing more comfortable as the day goes on, grabs a plate of uncooked chicken and carries it out the back patio door. III, manning the grill alongside Gareth, Jack, and Owen, takes the plate from Evan with a smile.
Ivy watches from the living room sofa, smiling softly to himself as Vessel, his father, and Bryn quietly discuss a program that plays on the flatscreen television.
The couch dips slowly beside him. Ivy doesn’t need to look up to know who sits next to him. He can smell his scent.
Familiar.
Amber, like his own.
“I wasn’t there… when II nearly lost his life because of you,” Ivy says the words softly. A hush whisper. The sound buried beneath the sounds of laughter and happiness that permeate the air in their home. “But having almost died myself, I can only imagine how… scared he must have been.” Ivy licks his lips. It no longer hurts. They’re no longer dry. “But if he’s chosen to forgive you for it, then I have no room to hold a grudge either. You’ve… really made it up to them, you know?””
“Nothing could ever make up for the fact that I almost, inadvertently, killed the most important person in my life,” Fore disagrees with a thoughtful, regretful tone. “I never would have walked away from him like that if I had known he didn’t want to let me go. But… looking back, I don’t regret it. Leaving them. I was… never the person that they needed, and it took me far too long to realize that.”
A beat of silence passes between them. Ivy slowly turns his head. Catches Fore’s gaze with his own. Ivy can feel Vessel’s eyes on them from across the room. But there’s no need for defensiveness here. No need for posturing. Fore offers him a shaky grin. Ivy slowly returns it.
“You’re perfect for them. I’ve had that thought in my head since I left here last,” Fore continues, nodding slowly. His words take Ivy by surprise, but he refuses to let it show. “After I saw what happened on tour, I just… my heart sank. It’s strange, really, but… I really do just want what’s best for them. And what’s best for them is you.”
“I could spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to them and still never do enough to deserve them,” Ivy admits. Shame pools in his gut. Shame for the secrets he kept. For the bad habits he refused to drop. For putting his mates through this in the first place.
Fore's smile is an easy one.
“You and me both,” Fore snorts, and Ivy can't help but chuckle at that. The irony of it all. Their similarities. Their differences. Everything that made them alike, but distinct.
With laughter on his lips, Ivy extends his arm in silent offering. An offering of understanding. Of truth. Of mutual respect earned, not easily given.
Fore's hand meets his with a resounding clap.
The handshake between them speaks for itself.
-
The food spread through the kitchen smells delicious.
A wide variety of grilled meats, courtesy of III. Dish after dish of sautéed vegetables, freshly baked bread, and beautifully presented desserts. Ivy leans down slowly, kissing his mother’s cheeks in thanks. He ruffles Evan’s hair as he passes. Says his quiet thanks to Alys for her help and hard work in the kitchen. He takes his seat beside Vessel, flashing II a thankful smile as he settles in his seat. II returns it immediately, a fond look in his eyes.
“This looks incredible,” Owen comments, cracking his knuckles at the bar. “Ives, you remember when you and I tried to cook out of the back of the van a few summers ago?”
“How could I forget?” Ivy snorts, reaching for his silverware and unraveling it from its decorative holder. Vessel takes his plate and loads it for him. The portion is plentiful, a silent plea to eat more. To regain his strength. Regain his weight. Something that Ivy shares his enthusiasm in.
“You two muppets almost burnt us all to a crisp,” Bryn cackles, taking a plate from Jack with a curt nod.
“Cheap cuts of meat didn’t help anything either. All that rendered fat sloshing about in the pan,” Jack remarks with a laugh of his own. “Do you still have the burn scars from the grease, Owen?”
“Wear them like a badge of honor,” Owen remarks, showing off his forearm. The tiny, barely there scar from when Ivy had accidentally tipped the pan and splashed him. He almost forgot about that precious memory. But he recalls it with fondness now. Devoid of any negative connections. His hatred of Owen, or the man he once was, now a bygone thing.
“The movers just texted me,” Fore exclaims, unlocking his phone. Juggling it between his plate and his drink. “They say they’ll be done and out of the way in the next hour or so.”
“I’ll escort them back,” Vessel speaks up before stuffing his mouth full of steamed broccoli, caked in seasoning and dripping with butter. Ivy’s stomach growls as he eyes the plate before him. He plunges his fork through a thick cut of steak and gets to work. It's hard on his tired arms, still sore from immobility and physical therapy alike. But it's getting easier now.
Everything feels easier now that he’s home.
“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Fore dismisses with a wave of his hand. “I’ve still got my extended stay until next weekend. It’s no trouble for me at all.”
Ivy thoughtfully chews his steak as he listens. III’s eyes meet his own. Warm and full of comfort. He grins as he swallows his bite of food, winking at the Empath before he takes a stab at II’s casserole. It all but melts in his mouth, but III melts before his eyes from the playful gesture.
“I should be the one escorting them back, but…” Ivy trails off, half-shrugging as he swallows his bite of II’s delicious dish. “We appreciate the help… Theo. You’ve done a lot for my family… Thank you for that.”
Fore’s eyes light up, dark pools brimming with light.
Amber wafts in the air. An amber not his own. It doesn’t make his stomach churn as he smells it. Instead, Ivy plunges his fork into his mam’s dish. Anglesey eggs, a familiar comfort food that reminds him of home.
“It’s the least he could do,” II speaks up, but there’s a content lilt in his voice. A pleasantness in his scent. A warmness in the pretty smile he flashes Ivy, just across the table. Ivy doesn’t think it will ever get old. Seeing II’s eyes light up like a supernova whenever their gazes meet. “All jokes aside, you’ve… done a good thing, Theo. We won’t forget it.”
II’s words carry with finality. A quiet, but undeniable, forgiveness.
A sentiment seemingly shared by all as quiet conversation resumes around the dining room, spilling forth into the kitchen.
It is only when the meal is over that Alys raises her drink, a sparkling glass of water in place of everyone else’s wine, as she loudly clears her throat and garners their attention.
Ivy knows what’s coming. But still he cannot help but blush all the same.
He always did hate the spotlight. Ironic as that was.
“To my baby brother Ivy, and to new beginnings!” Alys cheers, her glass held high in toast.
A new beginning for Ivy and his family. A new obstacle for Evan to overcome. A beautiful home in the city. No more overtime hours at the factory for their elderly parents. No more unpaid bills and unmowed lawns. No more illness in Ivy’s body. No more machines to keep him alive. No more kilometers left between them. No more limitations at all.
A new beginning for Ivy and his partners. One final performance away from a well deserved break. A break that will be spent by Vessel and II writing. Trying for a pup of their own. To expand their pack and family. They’ll find a new house soon. Move somewhere more spacious. Big enough for the expansion. Big enough to have a practice room underneath their own roof. A spacious kitchen for II. A body of water for III and Vessel to fish in. Another task for Ivy to try to learn, but ultimately fail. Not that it mattered, no. Not when he had them.
A new beginning for Ivy, Jack, Bryn, and Owen. A friendship reforged in the face of hardship. A band once fractured, but tentatively reunited. He would record the vocals for that new EP he once promised. He would put their craft out into the world. It might never be successful. It might never take them far. But it was theirs, and it was their passion. Something they enjoyed. Something they bonded over. Something Ivy wanted. Something that they all did.
A new beginning for Fore. A man who once made a critical mistake and failed to recognize his own misgivings until it was nearly too late for II. A man who carried with him a piece of their pack’s very soul until the day he returned to relinquish it. A man with a troubled history. Unsteady employment and woes. A man trying to make amends with those he wronged. A man trying to do the right thing. A man trying to grow not only as an Alpha, but as a person. A man forgiven by all.
There was much to be celebrated, Ivy muses, as he flashes his sister a thankful smile.
Twelve glasses rise in the air in agreement to her call.
Ivy makes it thirteen as he lifts his own and joins them.
Notes:
This chapter fought me tooth and nail. Resolving this many characters's arcs, and their development, has been an incredibly enjoyable, but absolutely exhausting, experience. We shift focus back to the boys through the end of this fic.
Stay tuned for an announcement in the near future, as well! :)
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the remainder of the journey. <3
Chapter 28: Da Capo
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Smut. Fluff. <3
6.5k words-ish.
Tags updated. Avoid those if you don't want spoilers for smut.
Notes:
Hi, hi!
The end is nigh. Not quite here, but so very close. I am incredibly grateful for each and every one of you who has read my story, shared their thoughts, and left kudos behind. This community is truly remarkable. Thank you for embarking on this journey with me. Enjoy the remainder of the ride. Our destination is just up ahead. :,)
As always, an absolutely massive shoutout goes to JayDawnSin for betaing this fic for me! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Thank you for tolerating me. :,) Thank you for helping me with this absolutely monstrous fic.
Another massive thank you goes to ghostsvessel for perusing this. I always appreciate and value your input!
Reminder, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! Send me your memes. Send me cursed images. Send me your thoughts. Send me your energy. I gladly welcome all of it. :)
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ivy smiles to himself as he finishes wiping down the glass of his newly bought display case.
Inside lies his first guitar. Shattered from his fall. Pieced together by III’s loving hands. Held together with tape and glue, it’s a shadow of its former self. It’s a reminder of the ordeal they endured. Of the love that barely held them together.
But it held.
Just like the fraying tape. The beading wood glue. It wasn’t pretty by any means. It wasn’t practical. It wasn’t ideal. But it worked. It survived.
So did they. So did he.
He cleans up the remnants of the mess, discarding the shipping box the display case arrived in as well as the box that his guitar was shipped back to London in, courtesy of Dr. Briar. He stacks the cardboard inside the largest box and cracks his back, feeling his once sore muscles relax as tension leaves his body.
His wounds are fully healed now. His limbs feel more limber than they’ve been in months. His physical therapist is demanding of him, leaving him with an intense regiment that Vessel makes sure he adheres to. Not that Ivy minds.
He feels strong again. Powerful. Once more an unmovable force, capable of holding his own.
That doesn’t stop Vessel from doting on him, clinging to his side and not allowing him out of his sight outside the four walls of their home. That doesn’t stop III from holding him in his lap and giving him massages as frequently as Ivy will allow it, which just so happens to be every time that III expresses the desire to. That doesn’t stop II from cooking him delicious meals, recipes from his former job as a chef, and insisting that Ivy eats until he’s back up to the weight he once was.
He isn’t quite there yet, but he’s close. Baby steps. Progress. Three weeks worth of his own hard work and his mates’ determination.
He feels like himself again.
Outside the office, where the case now resides, Ivy hears the sound of thunderous footsteps. Long strides. Familiar footfall. Strides too long to belong to II. Each step too loud to be Vessel.
III.
Ivy pushes the boxes aside, moving them to the office's corner, before he peeks his head out of the door. Quiet conversation greets his ears. The words are too soft to be discernible from a distance. But that's not what grabs his attention.
It's the smell of a raging forest fire.
Thick. Heady. Hanging heavily in the hallway. Wafting over him. Clinging to the air molecules themselves.
Ivy knows that smell well, but he's never smelled it on III before.
Rut. Or at the very least, the cusp of it.
Ivy exits the office, following the quiet murmurs until his feet take him to the kitchen. III stands with his back against the countertop, pills in hand. II stands before him, smirking.
Ivy's cock twitches in his joggers as II snatches the pills out of the Empath’s hand. III chuffs in response. Eyes wild. Reaching blindly for the medication that II holds behind his back.
“You could do this,” II purrs with a suggestive smile. “Or I could double down on heat suppressants and you can take me upstairs.”
“You're… not thinking about Vessel and Ivy, little love,” III grits out. Ivy can see the war in his eyes. Smell it in his scent. His desperation. His lust.
It's been months since Ivy’s felt the pleasure they can bring him, with the exception of the drag of their hands around his aching cock.
His own rut is overdue, but his Alpha isn’t ready. Still tired. Still recovering. Haywire with emotions. In overdrive due to Evan’s presentation and Ivy’s own ordeal.
III, however, is delaying the inevitable.
“Oh, I am thinking about them,” II continues, backing away from III with a laugh. Ivy watches, enraptured, as II places III’s suppressants down on the counter and instead reaches for his own. II uncaps the bottle, dumping four of the pills in his hand. The little Omega offers them a mischievous smile. “Vessel will come home to the sight of you ravaging me. And Ivy… Ivy gets to have a little fun too, no?”
III swallows thickly. Ivy can’t help but do the same.
“Don’t you think you deserve this, III?” II lilts, chewing on his bottom lip, raising the pills towards his mouth. “I think you do, my Empath. You’ve been so strong for us lately…” II trails off, shoving the heat suppressants into his mouth. Ivy watches II’s throat bob as the little Omega swallows them dry. Desire pools in his gut as II sticks out his tongue before slowly licking his lips. III’s scent goes from a forest fire to a devastating inferno in a split second. “I think you deserve anything you want.”
III moves before Ivy can even blink. A growl escapes his lips. An instinct. But the moment that III’s visage fills his gaze, the sound dies on his lips. II snorts, rolling his pretty blue eyes, as III scoops him off the ground. II’s legs fly around III’s waist, and Ivy can’t help but grin as III mindlessly carries II out of the kitchen.
He follows after them. Cock aching, leaking in his joggers. Heartbeat in his ears. Trailing after the scent of comforting lavender and the firestorm that III sets as he bounds up the stairs with II in hand.
They barely make it to the bedroom. II is deposited on the mattress as III playfully drops him atop it. II lets out a surprised sound as he hits the nest, but III is on him in an instant. Ivy chews his bottom lip, watching intently, as III ravages their Omega with kiss after kiss. On the cheek. The neck. His scent gland. His nose. His lips. III’s lithe fingers are everywhere. Running through II’s pale blond waves. Dancing over his skin. Pulling beautiful moan after beautiful moan from their littlest partner’s lips.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a while,” Ivy says begrudgingly. His Alpha whines in distaste. His cock continues to weep against the fabric of his joggers. III’s head turns as if on a swivel.
“Bed,” III growls, and the sound goes straight to Ivy’s dick. He’s never heard III growl before. Not like this. Not primal. Not raw with instinct. With sheer desire. He shivers as blue-green eyes dilate before his eyes.
Ivy would never deny III what he wants. Not that it goes against his own wants to begin with.
Their scents fill the room, interfering with the only just corrected scent-work II worked so hard on. Not that it matters. II’s eyes are already glazed over. His lips swollen. His skin flushed. He looks a vision, spread out beneath III’s length limbs.
“Want to watch me take our Omega apart?” III grumbles lowly as Ivy sits down on the edge of the nest. Soft blankets graze his palms as he braces his hands on the bed. His breathing, too, is heavy. In-line with his mates’ as II whines beneath III when the Empath’s hands flex, holding II in place. III leans down with a smirk, speaking through a deep, rasping growl. “Been thinking about being inside of you for weeks, little love.”
“I’m sure he’s been thinking about that too, haven’t you, II?” Ivy chuckles, reaching for II’s hands, pinning them in place as III’s teeth peel II’s shirt upward. II shudders violently beneath their touch. Whether it be from his bare chest becoming exposed to the air, or from their words, it’s hard to say. II is panting beneath III before the Empath’s tongue finds its target. Ivy laughs deeply as II moans. III’s tongue flicks over the little Omega’s nipple, teasing it until it hardens under the Empath’s wet appendage.
“Fuck,” II groans, shutting his eyes. III’s scent flares. Potent. Heavy in the air. Scenting them without contact with their glands. Scenting them without effort. Ivy watches the struggle in III’s eyes conclude. Instinct wins in the end.
“Need you so fucking bad,” III huffs out, peeling the shirt upward as he pulls off of II’s nipple. Ivy watches the hardened, glistening nub as he releases II’s hands. III pulls II’s shirt off the second that II’s arms are free. Not a moment later, II’s pants and boxers are pulled down in one fell swoop. Ivy’s breath catches as he takes in their mate’s beauty. His pretty cock. His slick glistened thighs.
II is soaked.
Ivy’s mouth is suddenly dry. The smell of honey lingers in the air, just beneath III’s potent scent. Ivy wants nothing more than to wet his tongue between II’s thighs, but III won't allow it. Not like this. Not when he’s in a frenzy, peeling off his own clothes in a hurry. When the Empath’s weeping cock springs free, Ivy gets his first glance at III’s knot.
He wonders how it would feel inside of him.
“III,” II purrs, and Ivy can hear the demand for attention in their little mate’s tone. Smell it in his scent. Saccharine. Overwhelmingly sweet. Luckily for II, III seems keen on giving him exactly what he wants. Ivy palms at his own cock through the fabric of his joggers as III descends once more, mouthing at II’s neck.
“You’re such a good boy for me,” III moans into II’s scent gland. Ivy’s own cock aches, desperate for touch. But he knows he needs to wait. Knows that III needs this more than anything. Needs II more than anything. It was the only thing that took the discomfort of rut away, being buried inside of an Omega. Knotting them. Fucking them. Smelling their scent.
“You going to be good and take my knot?” III growls, and it’s the single hottest thing that Ivy’s ever heard the Empath say. “Are you going to let me fill you up now?”
Scratch that, Ivy muses to himself as he squeezes his cock tighter through the damp fabric of his joggers. That’s the one.
III’s hands are kind. Reverent. Worshipful. His gaze, hungry. His words, dominant.
II is a writhing mess beneath him. Gasping. Panting. Moaning. Coming apart at the seams, cock dripping pre-cum onto his flat stomach, long before III’s impressive length is poised at their little mate’s soaked entrance.
“Stop teasing me,” II growls, all bite. No playfulness. Anger flaring in his pretty, tear-filled eyes. All from desperation. Ivy’s never heard that, II’s tone before. Not with him. Heard it through the muffled walls as the little Omega teased their Dominant mate, but never with III. Never with him.
Ivy wants so badly for II to talk to him like that. Make demands of him. Take what he wants. Just as II does as he wraps his muscular thighs around III’s legs and drives the Empath forward, impaling himself on III’s hard cock. III gasps, snapping his hips forward instinctively as II lets out a satisfied moan.
The sound of their skin meeting crescendos. A lewd symphony. Rut takes hold in III fully then. Hastens the pistoning of his hips. Forces his cock in and out of II’s sopping wet hole with fury as the Empath’s knot forces its way inside. II’s eyes roll back in his head. His hands reach out. Ivy takes one on instinct as II buries the other in the sheets.
“You’re so fucking tight,” III moans, collapsing forward. He buries his face in the pillow above II’s head, fucking into their writhing mate with brutal, powerful thrusts. Ivy wonders how it feels for III. How II feels around him. How Ivy’s own desire feels through III’s Empath’s gift. How II’s pleasure must resonate with III’s own. Driving him more wild. “Missed this. Missed you. Need to fill you up. Make you mine again.”
“You… deserve this,” II purrs in-between breathy, airy moans. Ivy squeezes his hand tighter, feeling II’s palm become sweaty against his own. “Wanna make you… feel so good. Wanna be good for you.”
“Such a good boy for me, always so fucking sweet,” III praises, and it does little for Ivy’s neglected cock. He needs this as much as they do. Not out of instinct. Not out of rut. But out of a desire for renewed connection. The need to feel their skin against his own. To give them pleasure. To take pleasure from them. With them.
III’s hand reaches back, pulling Ivy forward. His hand slips from II’s. III leans upward, reeling him in. Ivy rises to his knees, groaning as III’s lips crash into his own. III’s thrusts slow into an agonizingly patient rolling of his hips. II’s whine echo in the air. The drummer’s sweet scent rolls off of him in waves beneath III’s raging inferno. Ivy’s own scent is lost beneath theirs.
His tongue, lost beneath III’s. III kisses him as if he means to devour him. Licking into his mouth. Tasting him. Claiming him with his tongue.
III chuckles deeply against his lips, smirking into his sensitive skin.
“Want you next, Guardian,” III whispers huskily, and Ivy’s brain short circuits. His Alpha keens. They’ve discussed this before. Doing what feels right for them at the moment. Never making decisions beforehand. Letting the setting and emotions speak for themselves.
He’s never been fucked by III in spite of it.
Has been content to split the Empath open on his cock. Fuck into him with blistering fury, passionate snapping of his hips. Been content to take III into his mouth until his jaw aches. Drag their cocks alongside one another’s until they reach the peak alongside each other. Content to rut against one another until they spill inside their clothes.
III’s length is impressive. His cock’s girth is comparable to Vessel’s. His veins well defined. The head is pretty and pink. Glistening with pre-cum and sweat as it continues to disappear into II’s drenched heat. His knot swells to what Ivy knows to be a mind-numbing stretch. It makes II’s eyes roll back. Makes their little mate sing with moans and praise.
He already knew he wanted it inside of him.
He knows he’ll have his way as III brushes past him and slams into II with a shuddering howl, spilling inside of their little mate. Loud. Echoing. It reminds Ivy of the fishing cabin, hearing III’s pleasure from his place beside the fire. II’s orgasm follows not a moment after with a sharp call of III’s name. Ivy’s eyes dart to where II’s cock jerks, painting the drummer’s abdomen in spurts of white as II’s whole body shakes.
Ivy curses under his breath.
The ocean fills the bedroom, saturating the air as the door quietly opens.
Vessel.
His deep, smooth voice bounces off the walls. An amused laugh. A husky whisper that follows.
“You couldn’t wait until I got home, II?” A pause. “Or was it III who finally caved?”
Footsteps. Tension. Ivy’s Alpha blinks to life in the presence of its Dominant. He doesn’t turn to look at Vessel as their mate strides forward. He focuses instead on the pleasure emanating from II’s bond. The sound of III’s rugged, gravelly breaths.
The sound of Vessel’s belt coming undone.
“What a pretty sight to come home to,” Vessel rumbles, and Ivy can’t help but jump as warm breath ghosts over the shell of his ear. “You going to let III open you up, Guardian?”
Ivy swallows thickly as he stiffly nods his head. A hand rises, curling under his chin. Tilts his head back. Vessel’s eyes are dark and wild as they fill his gaze.
“Before that,” Vessel chuckles once more, and Ivy’s heartbeat thunders in his ears. Vessel kisses his cheek before slowly releasing him. He follows their Dominant partner’s movements as Vessel leans over the nest, examining II and III’s entwined bodies. Locked together by the Empath’s swollen knot. “II… you think it’s time we give Ivy a taste of what your heats look like?”
Ivy’s mind blanks as II blinks groggily, minutely nodding in response. III’s smile is wicked. Sharp. Charming. His eyes crinkle in their corners. III lifts II from the bed, still impaled on his cock. II yelps from the sudden shift in position. Moans a second later as Vessel lets his belt fall to the floor.
Vessel is a work of art as he strips bare. Toned muscles. Lithe torso. Long limbs and broad shoulders. He lies down in the center of the bed as III’s knot slowly slides out of II’s hole. Slick and cum drip down onto the mattress, saturating it in their combined fluids. Ivy’s mouth waters at the sight.
“Can you take us both, doll?” III asks, tilting II’s head back with a gentle tug on his hair.
Ivy blinks. Dumbfounded. Intrigued. Painfully hard as his cock leaks more pre-cum into his joggers, forming a wet spot on the front.
“Y-Yes,” II hisses out, as if offended that they’ve asked. III laughs lowly in response, mouthing at II’s skin before slowly letting II down. Ivy watches, entirely enraptured, as II crawls forward, straddling Vessel’s already hardened cock. II takes it in hand, stroking it a few times before he rises. Ivy’s Alpha whines lowly with want as II sinks down onto Vessel’s length with a beautiful moan of the singer’s name on his lips.
“You always take me so well,” Vessel coos upward at II, who rolls his hips with a blissed out expression painted on his features. III slides in behind him. Nudges II forward. Down. II lies on Vessel’s chest, humming softly to himself. Harmony. Rhythmic. Calming. Licking away at their instincts. Soothing them. Offering them bliss.
Ivy knows they’d be fools not to take it.
“Gonna take all three of us, aren’t you?” III grunts, and Ivy scrambles to shift on the mattress. His clothes stick to his skin. II’s pleasure melds into his own need for it, straining him. Sweat drips down his brow. He needs them. Needs this. Their touch. Their bodies. III’s cock presses against II’s hole, dragging around the edges of Vessel’s knot. “Our perfect, beautiful mate.”
III’s cock presses in, and II’s entire body shakes. Shudders. Spasms violently as III’s length bullies its way inside of II’s stretched hole. Vessel’s moan is animalistic. Wild. Filled to the brim with pleasure. Their cocks slide with relative ease into II’s heat, stretched from the knot their littlest mate has only just taken. II’s words are incoherent. His pleasure explodes through their bond in wave after wave of punctuated, Harmonious elation.
“Open your mouth, II,” III growls, but there is no coercion in his command. Only instinct. Only desire. Only a request that II makes with ease. Dilated blue-green eyes meet Ivy’s own. “Take your clothes off, love.”
Ivy doesn’t need to be told twice. He strips in a haste. Barely has time to feel the remnants of burning shame as the scars on his abdomen come into view, remnants from his time spent in the intensive care unit back in Dallas.
His mates don’t flinch. Don’t offer him pity.
He kneels at Vessel’s head. II’s hand finds his cock. The drummer’s lips are parted. Waiting. Inviting. Warm.
Ivy leans down, allowing himself to be pulled in. His knees hit the corner of the bed. Anticipation thrums beneath his skin. His Alpha howls within him.
Two mouths find the head of his cock. He curses with a prolonged groan. His head tips backward. Vessel’s tongue dances around the underside of his cock with expertise. II’s slides over the topside with practiced ease. They kiss around him. Licking. Sucking. Nipping at his flesh.
III starts to move. II moans loudly, the sound only muffled by Ivy’s cock and Vessel’s lips as the little Omega continues about his task. Vessel’s growl sends a shiver down Ivy’s spine. Vibrates the head of his cock. III’s instinctual moans and gasps fill the silence in the room. Vocal. Praising.
II takes both III and Vessel without complaint. Without pain or discomfort. Moans with his pretty, airy voice. Shudders when the stretch brings him pleasure. Licks the head of Ivy’s leaking cock with more vigor every time that Vessel’s tongue slides further back, teasing the length of Ivy’s twitching length.
Ivy's fingers brush back II's hair. Entangle themselves in Vessel's. It's the single most erotic thing he's ever seen. II fucked open by III and Vessel's cocks. Ivy's own cock slathered in spit and pre-cum, pressed between two pairs of eager lips.
Heat coils in his guts. It's been far too long, he reminds himself.
“I'm close,” he warns them through a gasp. They double their efforts in response. III slams his cock into II, dragging it alongside Vessel's buried length. II and Vessel's mouths latch onto the head of Ivy's cock. Cover it. Kiss over the top of it as it twitches.
It's too much. The slapping of their skin. Their moans. The warm, wet heat that envelops him. His fingers flex, then tighten, holding them in place. His head tips back in sheer ecstasy. A moan rips its way past his lips as his orgasm washes over him.
They drink his spurting cum. Every last drop.
Ivy's knees buckle. He sees stars as he peels backward, his cock softening against his stomach, before he collapses behind their heads atop the nest.
“Keep… going,” II pants out, and Ivy can tell he's almost at his limit. Vessel grunts, his head tips back. His eyes unseeing. II's name on his lips, followed by a blissful smile. II moans openly, clawing at Vessel's shoulders as III pulls back.
Ivy doesn't need to look to know what III's hands do. Remove Vessel's spent, softening cock from II's hole before the Empath drives his cock back in. II's scream of pleasure shakes the room itself as III slams inside of him. Knot and all.
III's groans of pleasure ring in Ivy’s ear as the bassist cums deep inside of II's trembling body.
“Fucking hell,” III grunts out, leaning forward. Hovering over II and Vessel's entwined bodies. “You took us so well, doll. Are you okay?”
A moment of clarity amidst the haze of rut.
II's eyes flutter open, dewy lashes grazing the flushed skin of his cheeks.
“I'm… good,” II assures him through a tired smile. “But you already knew that. You just want to hear it.”
“Always,” III confirms with a rumbling chuckle. Ivy watches through half-hooded eyes, his fingers still tangled in Vessel's sweat-soaked hair, as III kisses his way down II’s brow. The room drips with their combined scents and the heady smell of sex.
“You all did so good,” Vessel praises with a breathy sigh. “You going to let me open Ivy up for you, my sweet Empath?”
Ivy’s breath catches. His heartbeat quickens. Blue-green eyes meet his own. His Alpha, wary, paces in his chest. Whether from anticipation or fear, he’s too far gone to say. III’s gaze pins him in place.
III has never looked so predatory. Underneath the weight of his undivided attention, Ivy feels like his prey.
He offers III a wolfish grin of his own, taking a page from Vessel’s book.
III’s pupils expand, dilating until the color of his irises becomes a memory. Replaced entirely with darkness.
“Get him ready for me,” III commands. The sound goes straight to Ivy’s spent cock. Forces it to twitch with interest. His hole clenches around nothing as eagerness floods his veins. III’s arms wrap around II’s torso, reeling him backward. Holding him close to his chest. Giving Vessel room to wiggle out from underneath their locked-together bodies.
II looks gorgeous like that, Ivy thinks as Vessel slides out from beneath him. II’s skin is flushed. Glistening with sweat. Flat stomach smeared with his own cum. His lithe waist held by one of III’s large hands. His curvy hip held with the Empath’s other hand. His pretty cock, softening and dripping, hangs between his muscular thighs. His pale blue eyes, glazed over with pleasure, are filled to the brim with love. With smugness. Adoration.
Ivy can feel his pleasure in it, the ease in which II takes them apart. With his body. His beautiful mind. His saccharine scent. His gorgeous moans. His everything.
Ivy always knew he never stood a chance against II when it comes to love. He was always destined for this. Loving him. Loving them. It was impossible not to. III, even in the midst of rut, caresses II’s skin with reverence. Kissing his brow, his cheeks. Holding him as if he was the most precious thing in the world to him. Something sacred and worthy of worship.
Vessel’s touch is warm and inviting. Gentle and loving. Even as Vessel drags Ivy forward by his ankles with a beautiful laugh. Ivy goes willingly, chuckling as Vessel hikes his legs up and positions himself between them. For a moment, they merely gaze at each other. Dark rimmed, caramel colored eyes melding into deep, abyssal blue.
“I love you so much,” Vessel whispers sweetly, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Ivy smiles upward at him as his Alpha settles under the familiar weight of his Dominant partner. He feels safe here. Sheltered. Seen. Held. Loved. Everything that his Alpha used to protest. Everything that it craves now.
“I love you too, Vess,” Ivy breathes out as he snakes his arms around Vessel’s neck. Vessel’s lips brush against his own in response. Soft. Deft. Plush, warm velvet that drags over his lips, then his cheek. Lastly, his neck. Vessel licks a stripe over his scent gland. Over top of his claim. The same place that the Dominant Alpha has bitten time and time again, desperate for his venom to take hold. For Ivy’s immune system to adapt to it. Its antibodies. Its resistances.
Desperate to never relive the nightmare that they endured.
“You okay with this?” Vessel breathes out softly, nosing at his jaw. Ivy swallows thickly, nodding, as Vessel kisses him once more before retreating. “You’ll let us know if it’s too much for you, love.”
Vessel doesn’t ask. He instructs. Demands. Commands. But Ivy’s long since grown accustomed to obeying him.
“I will,” Ivy confirms with another minute nod. “I promise.”
Vessel’s warmth retreats as he does, reaching for the lube. Brief as the absence is, Ivy misses his touch all the same. Smiles a little brighter when Vessel returns, situating himself once more between his thighs. It’s been over three months since he’s last laid like this. His knees bent. Thighs parted. Offering up that part of himself that always brought butterflies to his stomach.
He’s missed this. Missed their gentle touches. Their delicate probing of his skin. Vessel warms lube on his fingertips with practised ease before dipping a finger inside of him. The intrusion briefly causes his hole to clamp down, but Ivy forces himself to relax. To breathe. To let go of his doubts and give himself over willingly to Vessel’s skilled hands. The first finger loosens him. The second spreads him further. The third whites out his vision as it stretches him, colliding with his prostate in the process.
Stars dance in his eyes as Vessel’s fingers, soaked in copious amounts of lube, pry him open. Leave him full when they enter and empty when they retract. Vessel kisses his quivering thighs. His shaking knees. Whispers soft words of encouragement as the tide of his scent washes over Ivy, lulling him comfortingly like the ocean’s gentle sway.
“Are you ready for me, darling?” III’s husky voice breaks the spell Ivy’s under. Forces him to see beyond the haze of pleasure as the Empath leans over him with lust dancing in his dilated eyes. Ivy’s breath catches as Vessel’s fingers expand inside of him, holding him open. When Vessel’s hand retreats, he groans from the loss of contact. But he manages to nod upward at III, who all too happily takes Vessel’s place between Ivy’s splayed open thighs.
“Hi, sweetheart,” III laughs softly, the sound bright and crystalline. Ivy can’t help but grin as his hands rise upward, seeking purchase on III’s broad shoulders.
“Hi, love,” Ivy murmurs in response, digging his fingertips into the muscles beneath them. His Alpha raises its wary head, but there is no cause for concern here. Not when III is the one who hovers over him, lining himself up with Ivy’s well stretched hole. Not when Vessel scoops II upward into his arms, whispering soft, sweet nothing into their littlest mate’s ears. Not when II’s teasing smirk returns to his lips as he playfully nibbles on Vessel’s earlobe.
“I… want you so much,” III huffs out, and Ivy can see the struggle in his mate’s eyes. The war against instinct. His consciousness against his Alpha. For as docile as an Empath was, they still had their needs. Their wants. The craving to be buried inside of something warm, wet, and inviting. Ivy hopes he’s enough as he brushes back III’s wild, golden locks. He tucks them behind the Empath’s ear.
“You won’t hurt me,” Ivy assures him, assuaging his fears. Breathing in III’s overwhelming scent. The fire. The smoke. The cedarwood. The smell of sweat and sex that hangs in the air between them. Warmth fills III’s gaze. Eats away at the darkness of his pupils, giving light to his irises once more. Blue-green oceans swallow him whole. Ivy drowns willingly in his chosen mate’s adoring gaze.
III’s cock presses into him slowly. The stretch isn’t as foreign as it once was, in spite of it being his first time beneath the Empath’s towering frame. It burns the same way that Vessel’s length did. Stretches him open wide. He forces himself to breathe. Remain calm. Loosened. Pliant. III’s moans of delight and the twitch of his cock inside of him makes Ivy clench down without meaning to.
III practically shrieks, panting in apparent delight.
“You are… so fucking tight around me,” III manages out, his words seemingly catching in his throat. Ivy can’t help but smirk from the praise as his own cock rapidly hardens against his stomach. Lying untouched beneath them. Leaking pre-cum onto his scarred skin. “Fuck, Ivy. You… you are doing so good, love. Stay relaxed for me. Just like that.”
Ivy exhales, adjusting himself underneath III, as the Empath ease his cock the remaining way inside of him. Ivy feels III’s knot as it presses against the rim of his hole. III shudders. Scent flaring. Eyes wild with interest. Ivy doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t think twice. He hooks his heels around the back of III’s thighs and gently pulls him in.
The stretch isn’t easy. But Ivy relaxes. Lets the lube that’s saturated his skin act as a slick guide for III’s girth. His eyes slam shut as III gently rocks into him, helping him take him in. III’s breathing is ragged. He wonders if the Empath will last at all, or if III will cum the second he’s buried to the hilt inside of him.
He hopes it doesn’t bring any unpleasant memories to the surface for III. Doesn’t remind the Empath of his inability to take Vessel’s knot. Or Ivy’s own, he assumes, having never tried for himself. He hopes instead that pleasure consumes his chosen mate. That the feeling of his welcoming heat distracts him from the feelings of inadequacy that III mentioned in the past in his desire to do more for Vessel. To be more for their Dominant mate.
Ivy hopes III knows that he is enough. That he’s always been enough.
III’s knot slips inside him, popping into place. Ivy’s vision whites out before III’s does. His back arches. His cock, only made hard again just a moment before, spurts white across his abdomen as III’s cock twitches inside of him.
Warmth floods him as III howls an approximation of his name. Ivy groans. Shudders. Holds onto III's trembling, sweat-soaked shoulders as the Empath's knot expands further. Stretching him. Unifying their bodies. Holding them in place. Holding them together.
Reverant, shaking hands grip Ivy’s cheeks. Tilt his head up. When III's eyes meet his, the Empath lets out a beautiful, resonating laugh.
“Well, aren't we pathetic? Barely lasted a single stroke,” III's chuckles are music to his ears. There is no sadness in the bassist’s eyes. No jealousy in his tone. No sourness in his scent.
There is only an endless, boundless river of love flowing into him from the Empath's elated smile. His Alpha settles in his chest. Sated. Accepting. Pack. Unity. Everything beautiful in-between.
Ivy can't believe he almost lost this.
It's the only thing in the entire world that's scared him so fiercely. Scared him more than the time his mam brought home a tiny baby that needed protecting. Sheltering. Scared him more than losing job after job, leaving him to couch surf in place of returning home emptyhanded. Scared him more than Evan facing the world as a defenseless Pliant Omega.
Because without life, Ivy couldn’t protect his brother. Couldn’t provide for his family. Couldn’t hop in the car and drive the now short distance to their beautiful, sprawling abode. Couldn’t feel Vessel’s hand, buried in his dark locks of hair. Couldn’t feel II’s deft hands as they wind around his shaking knees, soothing him with his presence and the extended hand of Harmony. Couldn’t feel III’s callused fingertips dance across the skin of his cheek, wiping away his plentiful tears.
He never used to be much of a crier.
But then again, he never had anything he was so viscerally afraid of losing either.
You can’t pour from an empty cup.
Vessel had repeated a nurse’s words to him once, after he had been roused from the cruel clutches of dreamless sleep. The saying resonates with him even now as he lies there.
He’s learned to love himself again. To be kind to his body. His skin. To never take a single moment of his life for granted. It’s picturesque now. A reel from a beloved film. A highlight from a best-selling novel.
He’s beyond lucky in life to have this. A place of belonging. People who loved him so fiercely. People who relied on him. People he could rely on.
Weeks of hard work and dedication, a promise to himself, leave his flesh whole once again.
Ivy’s filled his cup. Now, it overflows through his tears. Caught and swept away by the hands of those who hold him.
Cradled in the impossibly warm embrace of love.
He’s afraid of a lot of things now. The idea of losing something precious.
He isn’t afraid of crying. Showing weakness. Showing the depths of his desires. His affections.
III’s fingers are warm against the dampness of his cheek, tickling Ivy’s lashes as they brush away the remnants of his tears.
Where once there would be shame pooling in Ivy’s gut, he instead looks upward at his chosen mate and offers him the most brilliant and blinding of smiles.
He feels like himself again.
He feels at peace.
He’s home. Where he belongs. Where he was always meant to be.
-
The following morning greets Ivy with soreness in his backside, but contentment in his very soul.
He rouses slowly. Showers even slower, letting the warm water wash away the grime and sweat of the previous day. The evidence of their long night spent together, tangled up in each other’s limbs. Giving and receiving pleasure.
By the time he exits the shower, the nest has been stripped bare. II’s handiwork, he knows.
He dresses without fuss, wincing ever so slightly as he fastens his cargo pants and slides one of III’s hoodies over top of his head. His hair drips water onto the hood as he pushes it backward, reaching for a black ball cap atop the dresser before he secures it in place.
They’re going house hunting today.
Searching for their own little slice of heaven. Their own perfect place to call theirs forever. A place for their possessions to belong. A space big enough for their pack to expand with the promise of pups on the not-so distant horizon. A home big enough for its own recording studio and isolation booths, a place for Vessel and II to work their magic. Hone their talents. Perform their craft.
Ivy eyes his reflection in the bedroom mirror. The normal, pink hue of his lips. The deep blue of his eyes. The brilliant whites that surround them, replacing long since faded red. He runs a hand over the short stubble on his face, dark just like his hair. His features look more angular now, as if his ordeal has changed him in some way. As if the process itself has aged him. But he reasons that that is unfathomable.
He’s still coming into his own, after all. Still a mere twenty eight years of age. Still young. Healthy. Still with a lot of life left in him. A lot of life that he intends to put to good use. Good purpose. Sheltering those around them. Guarding them. Reminding them each and every day how precious they are to him.
Reminding himself that he, too, is precious and worth caring for.
A hard fought battle. A slow victory. A near defeat. But a victory nonetheless.
There’s three weeks left until Wembley.
Three weeks left to find a new home and move. Three weeks left to prepare himself for what follows afterward. A future alongside his mates. New experiences. New music. New life. New sights and sounds. New cities to visit in the future. New roads to navigate. New songs to write alongside his bandmates. New bars to play back in Cardiff. New shopping centers to explore. New faces to grace his presence. New blessings left to experience.
He smiles at his own reflection, amber and sun-warmed leather seeping into the air around him.
From beyond the bedroom door, a familiar voice.
“Ivy!” II’s voice cuts through the silence. Ivy watches his grin grow on instinct as his Alpha responds to the sound of its littlest mate’s call. “We’re going to grab some breakfast and hit the road. Come on! III is starving, and Vessel’s already starting to panic about finding a nice house. I can’t handle these idiots on my own, I swear.”
Ivy laughs, grabbing his wallet off of the dresser before he stuffs it inside his pocket. There is no cash in his pocket, but it feels heavy against his skin all the same. His bank account is far from empty. He can buy himself anything he wants. Anything he needs. Anything his mates might like. Anything his family might enjoy.
He gets to spend his days like this, he realizes.
Comfortable. Happy. Loved. Safe.
It’s all he’s ever wanted.
“Coming!” Ivy returns the little Omega’s summoning yell, grinning wide enough that his lips crack.
He doesn’t wince as he walks out of the bedroom door, eager to spend the day alongside his beautiful, loving mates.
Eager to face whatever the future may bring together.
Notes:
There is no more questioning the final chapter count.
2 more chapters until the end.
I will see you all next time with an announcement that I'm excited to share. Until then, please take care! <3
Chapter 29: Fermata
Summary:
Chapter Warnings: Fluff.
6.4k words. The end is nigh.
The end notes contain an announcement!
Notes:
Hello, all!
Classes resumed for me today, which brings its own stress, but nothing can detract from how excited I am to be finishing this story soon. This is the second to last chapter. The next one is the finale. It's been a long journey, made all the more enjoyable by all of you. Thank you all so much for the continued support along the way! I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to this story's conclusion. <3
I have more visualizers thanks to the wonderful ghostsvessel! She's taken the time to construct a model in Sims of Ivy's parent's new home.
You can check it out here!: Ivy's Parent's House
As always, an absolutely massive shoutout goes to JayDawnSin for betaing this fic for me! Thank you for all that you do! <3 Thank you for tolerating me. :,) Thank you for helping me with this absolutely monstrous fic.
As always, enjoy and take care!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The most anticipated house that the realtor shows them is beautiful.
A sprawling mansion. A well kept garden. Iron rod gates surround its perimeter. It boasts six bedrooms. Three full baths, and two half-baths. The countertops are granite. The cabinets white and pristine. It's breathtaking and opulent while maintaining practicality.
It's the perfect home for a pack looking to start a family.
Except, Vessel hates it. His scent has long since grown sour. Each offered bit of criticism is more pointed than the last.
The location. Too close to other people. Too sterile of an environment for his creativity. Too far away from their recording studio. Too far from Ivy's own family, a sentiment he wholeheartedly agrees with.
The most vocal critique, however, was safety.
The neighborhood itself is safe. The house, a fortress. But Vessel needed territory. Space to call his own. To stake his scent. His claim. His mark.
That is where they differ. Their divergent sub-types. Their unequal needs. Ivy's Alpha can make any place, any person, its intended target of protection. III’s Empath can adapt.
Vessel’s Dominant demands a space all its own. A space with no other Alphas present besides those who bare Vessel's claim. No competition. No outsiders. No challengers. Not that there could ever be any, as II has already pointed out.
“II, it's not safe here,” Vessel stresses for the umpteenth time, and Ivy can sense his growing agitation. His clear distaste. “I know you like the spaciousness, but we can find something else that isn't so… surrounded.”
“We can't say no to everything just because it's in the city proper,” II retorts, offering their overworked realtor an apologetic look. Tom, an expert in his field but a novice at accommodating someone with Vessel's level of instincts, returns II's forced smile. “Is there anything else on the agenda for today?”
“This was the final showing I had planned,” Tom explains with a sigh. Vessel lets out a displeased tut at that. Ivy snorts. Wraps his hand around Vessel's forearm as III steps between their Dominant partner and the realtor.
“We haven't been exactly forthcoming, since we value our privacy, but…” III trails off. Ivy watches the Empath glance over his shoulder, seeking silent permission. When Vessel minutely nods, III faces the realtor once more. “We're planning on having pups in the near future. Gonna need somewhere a little less crowded with more open space.”
“You won't find anything like that in this area,” Tom notes, and Ivy can hear the consideration in his words. His cologne is strong. Obnoxiously so. Ivy doesn't question it when II joins him at Vessel's side, burying his nose in Vessel's sleeve. “I understand your reservations, if not your instincts. Let me make a call. I may have the perfect place to show you.”
Tom excuses himself then, walking through the massive kitchen and disappearing into the dining hall. Out of sight. His pungent scent, artificial and nauseating, goes with him.
Vessel lets out a deep, resounding sigh.
“I'm being difficult, I know,” Vessel admits. Shoulders sagging. Scent sizzling out. Dry oceanbed. The absence of rain. II pinches their mate's arm, earning himself a yelp for his efforts.
“You're allowed to be particular. But we weren't going to make any progress if we kept withholding our reasons for buying a new house in the first place.” II explains, removing himself from Vessel's side.
He looks small as he stands toe to toe with their Dominant mate. But his scent is the single most poignant thing in the room. Even in the absence of Harmony's extended hand, II's presence itself stands tall. Reels them in. Commands them to listen.
“I know this is stressful enough as it is,” II starts again, and Ivy can only watch as II reaches up to cradle Vessel's cheeks. “But I want to get this over with, Ve. After Wembley, I don't want to worry about anything else but us. All of us. We deserve time for ourselves. I want to enjoy that time in our new home.”
“I want things to be perfect for us,” Vessel grits out, bowing his head into II's steady hands. III smiles at that. Ivy reaches for the Empath. Not on his Alpha's instinct, but rather, his own. III takes his hand without hesitation, offering it a squeeze. “I know that isn't possible, but… I still feel the need to try.”
“We're buying a new house,” II points out with an incredulous expression. “We’ve slept in heaps of secondhand laundry in the back of vans, and in pest-ridden student dorms. We've come as close to perfect as we can from where we once were. Stop being so hard on yourself.”
Ivy thinks of Bath. Of all the times he missed. Of all the wasted years that came to pass without his mates in his life. He knows it's pointless to wonder about what-if scenarios, but he can't help but wish that he met them sooner all the same.
He's heard the stories by now. The ones reluctantly told to him by his mates. Their darkest moments. Their deepest fears. Their experiences from before he met them.
He believes that things happen for a reason. That Vessel entering II's life when he did was more than just an accident. That the duo meeting III and opening up their hearts and pack for him came with a grander purpose.
Every loss was a lesson. Every ill turn of fate an attempt to make them stronger. Unify them more.
Even his own misgivings. His own near fatal mistake.
Progress was slow for a reason. A gradual, evolving process. Consciousness itself was akin to instinct. A change occurring over time. Leading II and Vessel from a run down dormitory in Bath, to the grandest homes available in London. Their bank accounts inundated with cash.
He hates that he missed those years. But looking at Vessel’s shoulders bowed into II’s hands, feeling III’s palm warm against his own, he knows every loss led him here. To this.
“I want you to be comfortable,” Vessel breathes out through a tiny, hopeful smile. II’s expression softens, but his scent remains rife all the same. Sprawling fields of lavender. The bite of honey from a bustling hive. The warm and spiced notes of vanilla. The combination of notes is familiar. Ivy remembers where he’s smelled it before.
The day they first met. It’s never smelled the same before. Not since then. Not until now.
He squeezes III’s hand just a little bit tighter, feeling the Empath’s calluses as they brush against his own.
“I want to give our… future pups the kind of childhood that you and I never got to experience,” Vessel continues. Ivy takes a step to the side, leaning into III’s space until the bassist pulls him in, tucking him into a comfortable embrace. III’s scent fills his nose as he breathes in deep against the fabric of III’s faded sweatshirt. “Ivy had a good childhood in spite of his family’s financial obstacles. I want us to be the same. Close knit, and stable. That's all.”
Ivy smiles on instinct, rocking gently back and forth against III as Vessel’s words linger for a moment in the silence.
It’s a testament to his close bond with his family, Vessel’s desire to replicate it. Ivy’s family never had much. They barely had enough at times. But they never gave up trying. Never lost hope. Not even when Ivy fell ill the first time. Not even when he lay an ocean away in dreamless sleep. Not even when Evan presented, facing insurmountable odds.
They stuck together through thick and thin. Through the good times, and the bad. Ivy knows that he and his mates will be the same. They already are the same. But there were still more challenges ahead. New bumps in the road to face. New obstacles to overcome. But he’s never once doubted that they’d face them together. Not since he opened his eyes in Dallas and found his mates still at his side.
Still, it serves as a point of pride in him. Makes his Alpha sing out from the praise. He had helped hold his family together for so long. To have that recognized by someone so inherently keen on providing for themselves and theirs was one of the single most kind things that he’s ever heard.
Sensing his wide array of emotions, III presses a kiss to his brow. Warm lips. Softly brushing against his skin. Forcing a shiver out of him. Forcing him to remember the slight sting in his backside from where the Empath had taken him only mere hours ago. III’s scent is still erratic. Still unbound by the grip of rut, and deeply rooted instinct. But III’s mind is as clear as his eyes as Ivy tips his head back and grins upward at his chosen mate. III’s smile was enough to make him swoon, let alone the crinkling of his pretty blue-green eyes.
It is Tom’s voice who inevitably breaks the silence, shattering their precious reverie.
“Great news, the property is still available,” he announces as he re-enters the kitchen from the direction in which he had only just departed. “They can meet us there in an hour. I think you’ll love it. It’s closer to the house you purchased last month, and it’s closer to the district you need to travel to for work. It’s a bit out of the way, but the area is stunning, and the house itself has all the amenities you expressed wanting.”
“Well, we’ve got time,” Ivy says, speaking up at last. III releases him slowly, but doesn’t peel entirely away. Allowing him to use the bassist as support, alleviating some of the discomfort he feels as dull waves of pain radiate off of his backside. Before he fell ill, he would have ignored it. Stood tall. Refused to show how much it bothered him in public. But now, he leans into the offered support. Silently thanking III for it through the scent of sweetened amber.
“We’re not due at your parent’s place until seven. We might as well,” III adds in with a shrug.
“Then, we can start heading that way if you’d all like,” Tom offers, and Ivy doesn’t need to look behind him to know that Vessel gives the nod. The stamp of approval. The final say. Not one bit of himself, his Alpha included, raises an issue with that. Comfortable with it now. Comfortable with handing over the reins to someone trusted. Someone who has never, not once, led him astray.
“We’ll follow you,” II tells Tom, and it is then that Ivy reluctantly parts with III.
He eyes the bassist before offering him a playful grin.
“You gonna drive this time? I’ll ride passenger if you do.”
III’s eyes crinkle further in the corner as the Empath chuckles and leans down, placing yet another kiss on his brow.
“You have yourself a deal then,” III confirms, smiling against his skin. “Vess, why don’t you and II get all comfy in the back. Maybe take a nap. I’ve got a passenger princess to keep me company.”
“Careful now,” Ivy teases right back, playfully slipping out of III’s grasp as he walks backward, trusting Vessel’s hand to guide him. His fingertips dance over the nearby countertop before the Dominant Alpha’s hand directs him to the side, his intended destination. Cold metal graces his touch as he slides the keyring over his index finger. He twirls it. Eying III the whole time. “I’ll drive and let Vessel ride up front with me.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” III gasps, mock-offended. Tom offers them a confused expression, but Ivy can’t bring himself to care. Not when he feels II’s happiness as it exudes through their bond. Not when he can feel Vessel’s hand still on the small of his back, a guiding, comforting presence. Not when III looks at him like that. The look that says more about the bottomless bounds of the Empath’s love than his words ever could.
He tosses the keys to III, who catches them with a bashful smile.
“And deny you something that makes you happy?” Ivy laughs, but his words are as genuine as his expression. Heartfelt. Excited. Elated. Grateful. Loved. “You’re right, I wouldn’t do that to you, love.”
“Race you to the car,” III calls before bolting, not even giving him time to respond.
It reminds Ivy of the department store they visited on tour. The one where III raced off towards the socks. The one where Vessel first opened up about his and II’s past struggles, speaking of their time in Bath.
Just like before, Ivy takes off after him at a languid pace. Affording Vessel and II a moment to themselves. A moment that, just like back then, he knew without asking that they needed.
-
The house is perfect.
That's all Ivy can think of as he exits the passenger side door and cranes his neck upward, looking at the sprawling manor. The stone exterior stands three stories tall. River rock lines the wall surrounding the entryway. Sprawling swaths of grass surround the massive property itself, giving way to a crystalline pond. Trees blow in the slight breeze. Their susurating leaves gracing them with nature's very own song.
It's the largest house Ivy’s ever seen by a long shot. The landscape has everything they could ever ask for. Everything they could ever dream of.
A sentiment clearly shared by III.
“Vess, think about the fishing,” the Empath all but swoons. There's a giddy smile on III's face. His blue-green eyes alight with wonder. “We could have the pond stocked up if it isn't. We could finally teach Ivy here how to properly cast.”
“Good luck with that,” Ivy snorts as Tom waves them forward toward the entry. III laughs, all but skipping to catch up on his lengthy limbs. Ivy smiles as the Empath slings an arm over his shoulders. “But you and Vessel would never leave the waterside.”
“This place is massive,” II adds, and Ivy can hear the disbelief in his voice. Smell the delight in his scent as it carries on the warm wind. “How much of a budget did you give Tom, Ve?”
“I didn't,” Vessel answers as Tom keys in the passcode to the small realtor lockbox. It opens, producing a key that he uses to promptly unlock the door.
Ivy doesn't hesitate to step inside.
It's barren. Unfurnished, echoing with their footfall. But the interior is even more breathtaking than the scenery. He gawks at the high ceilings. The dark wood floors and the branching hallways.
“The downstairs has all the essentials, including three bedrooms and a sunroom attached to the back. There's a den, a living room, and laundry room as well,” Tom explains, motioning in various directions towards the mentioned rooms. “The former owners are willing to come down on the price for the right buyer. It's been empty for two years, but the property has been thoroughly maintained.”
“What's the asking price?” Vessel questions softly. Ivy turns to look at him. Catches the sparkling sunlight in his caramel colored eyes. The pleasantness of his scent. Crisp ocean waves. Stormy skies.
He's gotten better at it, reading Vessel's moods through his demeanor. Even if he can never feel his emotions, not in the way he wants to, he's grateful to have this. A small peak through the window of Vessel's beautiful, boundless soul.
Vessel likes the property. His Alpha likes the property.
While Ivy's own measures and weighs defensive strengths and weaknesses of the sprawling abode, Vessel's sees it as what it desires. Territory. Away from the masses. Secluded. Beautiful. And above all, safe.
“Four million pounds is the asking price,” Tom says, and Ivy's stomach drops. But Vessel's gaze doesn't change. He doesn’t grimace. Doesn't gawk. Only nods his head in understanding. “I suspect we could offer three and a half million and negotiate from there if you're interested.”
“Let them look around first,” Vessel instructs with yet another nod. Directing. Commanding without increasing his presence. Letting them know not to worry. Not to fret over the price. To see if they enjoy the property and make a decision based on that and that alone.
Ivy can't fathom it, spending that amount of money. He wonders if Vessel even has it, but judging by the look in his eyes, Ivy assumes he does. Or at the very least, he can secure it.
“Go,” Vessel reiterates with a small smile, gently nudging II forward. Ivy takes II's hand, pulling him close. “I'll walk the grounds. You just… see if this feels like the right place for us to call home.”
“I'm already sold,” III all but sings. His voice bounces off of the walls. Echoing in the empty expanse. “What are you thinking, II?”
“It's nice,” II answers softly, stepping further into Ivy's space. Seizing his arm and pulling him forward. “Come on.”
Ivy follows without complaint. Watches III all but race across the house's sprawling interior, clearing the rooms with ease thanks to his long strides. Their footsteps rattle the newly installed floorboards until the sound thins into the otherwise quiet. The house smells of cleaning products rather than dust. But the chemical smell makes his nose crinkle all the same.
II has absolutely spoiled them with his mastery of scent-work.
“Going to need to air this place out if we get it,” Ivy notes, allowing II to lead him up the stairs. He takes them slowly. Wincing from the sharp pain that radiates down his backside. II looks over his shoulder. Gauging his progress. Silently reminding him not to push himself.
Not that Ivy needs the reminder any longer.
He's learned his lesson the hard way.
“I can fix the smell,” II nods as they finish ascending the staircase. Ivy can't help but laugh as III bounds up the stairs behind them, taking the steps two at a time. “This place is going to take a lot of furniture. Even then, I don't know what we'd do with half the rooms.”
“We can finally make a studio,” III suggests, hearthsmoke curling in the air as he joins them. “I know Vessel has always been particular about separating work and home. But if we plan on staying in one place for a while, maybe he's willing to make a concession.”
“Don't let him keep me locked up in here,” II chuckles, rolling his pretty blue eyes. “I think a studio is a necessity, though. He'll agree if we ask.”
“We would have plenty of room for people to visit,” Ivy adds in as they walk the second story of the home. Eyeing the empty bedrooms. The spacious bathrooms. Trying to envision a purpose for each room that they pass.
“We'd never need to worry about running out of room, that's for sure,” II comments as they finish touring the second story. They arrive back at the stairwell. Slowly take the steps up to the third floor. ‘We need an elevator.”
Ivy cackles at that, nodding his head in agreement as his sore limbs carry them to the top. More bedrooms. More open spaces. More possibilities.
Endless ones.
They could spend forever here. Pursue their interests. Their hobbies. Grow their family. All without ever running out of space. All while being close enough to the city and Ivy's own family that it never feels as if they've given up the conveniences they desire.
They could make a life here.
A life full of possibilities. A life of happiness.
“I want it,” III says with finality, tipping his head up towards the ceiling. Golden strands of hair sway as the Empath closes his eyes. “It feels right. I think we'd be happy here.”
“So do I,” II gives the nod, and even that feels definitive. Set in stone. His approval was the most hard fought. The most hard won second only to Vessel's Dominant Alpha's needs. “Ivy?”
“I think it's… perfect,” he responds easily. He tries not to think of the cons. The price. The pressure put on Vessel. He reminds himself that their Dominant mate isn't worried. That he seems happy. Content with this. The house. Their decision.
Vessel makes concessions for them all the time.
Ivy knows that this one won't be any different.
Footsteps and chatter echo off the house's walls. Vessel's familiar footfall, followed by Tom's. When they arrive on the third floor, II's scent pitches itself sweeter. Saccharine notes of honey and vanilla. A sprawling field of lavender.
Ivy can see it in Vessel's eyes, the understanding. The silent conversation that occurs between them.
“So,” Vessel starts, offering their littlest mate the most charming of smiles. “We're home then?”
II snorts, leaning back. Resting against Ivy's chest. Ivy grins, leans his head into III's chest as the Empath once more throws an arm around his shoulders. Tom gauges their expressions with curiosity. Ivy knows that Vessel doesn't need to.
“Yeah,” II replies with a lilt. “We're home.”
That's all that needs to be said between them.
Some things really are just that simple.
-
Vessel submits an offer on the property without a second thought.
It’s surreal to Ivy as they pile into the car and begin the forty five minute drive to his parent’s house. He glances back at the sprawling manor through the rearview window. Twisting in his seat beside III as the towering structure gradually fades out of view behind them. The drive to and from the home is just as stunning as the property itself.
Streams. Ponds. Towering trees. The beauty of nature surrounds them on either side. It’s quiet here. Reported crime rates are absurdly low. The area is home to families. Well off through various means. Some lawyers. Some doctors. Some celebrities. Others hail from well off families, never having had to work a day in their lives themselves. Tom had been something of an expert on the house and the area around it.
For two years it sat empty with no interested buyers. Too expensive. Too grandiose.
Ivy wonders how eager the owners are to part with it. If they’ll have a response by the end of day, or the next. Or if they’ll be stuck in negotiations until Vessel finally relents in a bid to appease his Alpha’s desires. Or theirs.
As Ivy turns back around in his seat, he offers III a small smile, taking the Empath’s hand in his.
“You excited?” He asks, snorting when III reaches over and tugs Ivy’s hood up, over his hat. Patting the brim a moment later as if pleased with the result.
“I’m excited for a lot of things,” III agrees, retracting the hand on Ivy’s hand. Still holding Ivy’s hand with the other. “More importantly, doll, how are you feeling? I didn't hurt you last night, did I?”
“You didn't hurt me at all,” Ivy assures him, reaching up to brush the hair of III's loving eyes. “You know my days of pushing myself beyond my limits are over. But at the same time, I'm not made of glass, love. You'd never hurt me either.”
“You guys are so sappy,” II playfully snarks, turning in the passenger seat. Cradling Vessel's coat in his arms. In spite of his words, there's humor in II's gaze. In his tone. “What's for dinner?”
“Mam wouldn't say,” Ivy answers with a chuckle, reeling III in until the bassist all but collapses against his side. They nuzzle each other on instinct. Habit. And that too is a learned behavior. Not something new, but not something ingrained into them through Alpha instinct either.
“Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be delicious.” Vessel chimes in as they turn back onto the main road that will lead them to their destination. “How close is Alys’s due date again?”
“About a month from now,” Ivy hums with a fond smile. He still doesn't know the baby's gender. Alys hasn't told a soul beside her husband. Not that it matters. Beta. Alpha. Omega. Boy. Girl. None of it was important. Ivy just wants them to be healthy. He already knows that they'll be loved.
“Wembley really is our last big hurrah until a lot of change comes our way,” III remarks, mumbling the words into Ivy's shoulder. “Are you sure we aren't doing too much, Vess? That house is perfect and all, but… the price is really high.”
“II and I have already discussed this, but… we've been floating the idea of switching labels. Our contract agreement is up, and I woke up to a generous offer,” Vessel announces with a grin, shown to them through the rearview mirror. Ivy raises a brow.
Vessel and II handle the business side of things. Keep it to themselves. Save them the trouble. But Ivy already knew his hospital stint soured relations with the duo's current label.
A canceled tour and astronomical healthcare bill will have that effect.
He tries not to feel guilty over it.
III doesn't allow him to. Scenting him. Grounding him. Nuzzling into his skin. Kissing his cheek.
“Are you going to accept it?” III asks, but they all already know the answer. II's grin morphs into a smirk as the little Omega nods his head.
“It's better for us. They want a new album and don't expect a tour for a full year. The signing bonus alone is worth it,” II responds, holding Vessel's coat tighter. Closer to himself. “They're aware of our concerns, and have been really accommodating. You'd both remain on for tours, that was non-negotiable, of course.”
“They won't propose replacements either,” Vessel says, his words dripping with venom. Ivy knows there must be a story there. A story he hasn't heard. But he puts a mental pin in it. Unwilling to sour the triumphant mood. “I've been approved for the amount needed for the new property already. But if we sell the current house, and accept the label deal, we will be in a very comfortable position.”
“I'm so proud of you both,” Ivy mutters out sincerely because it's true. It's hard to fathom how far his mates have come. How much hard work and dedication it's taken. How much skill and practice. How many sleepless nights.
Never again.
He won't subject them to it. He won't let anything else subject them to it either. They deserve this. Their success. Their happiness. Their comfortability. They've worked hard for it. They've suffered more than enough.
He wants to make sure that they know it. That even if the masses will never know their names and stories, that someone recognizes the tribulations that led them to this moment. The sacrifices they've made. The difficult choices.
Ivy can't think of anyone more deserving than his mates.
He's going to make sure he spends every day of his life reminding them of it.
“We wouldn’t be truly happy if not for you,” Vessel calls back, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. The leather croaks underneath his grip, the sound mingling with the roaring air conditioner as it pumps frigid air throughout the cabin. Ivy watches their Dominant mate with fondness, leaning harder into III. Golden blond hair tickles his nose as III turns further into him. “It always felt like we were missing something. Not just with the band, but as a whole. I know we’ve said this before, and you’re probably tired of hearing us say it, but you… make us happy, Ivy.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say it,” Ivy assures him. His cheeks flush. His heartbeat quickens. III’s lips graze his scent gland. Vessel’s claim. II’s claim. III’s meaningful scar. So much has happened. So much has changed between them. But one thing remains constant throughout.
Them.
Through thick and thin. Good times and bad. Ivy never wants to go a day without them by his side.
He’s as thankful now as he’s ever been, knowing that he’ll never have to.
“I feel like I’ve finally done it, accomplished everything that I ever wanted,” Vessel announces, and it’s impossible not to hear the emotion in his voice. The brimming pride. The lingering waves of sadness. The pressure on his shoulders, but the joy that it brings him. “Our band is more successful than II and I ever imagined it being. We have III. We have you. My pack… it’s… complete now.”
“Almost complete,” II corrects their Dominant mate, placing his hand on Vessel’s thigh. “You still want that, don’t you?”
There isn’t even a moment of hesitation. Vessel’s answer is an immediate, happy reply.
“More than anything.”
It brings Ivy pride to hear him say it so openly. To no longer shy away from expressing his wants. To bear his desires and instincts without hesitation. To know that II is no longer afraid of it either.
Vessel had been right. Things did have to change.
As Ivy watches the passing cars out of the backseat window, he catches sight once more of his reflection. He still thinks that he looks happy now. Happier than he’s ever been. He used to not be able to stomach the sight of his own reflection. Used to feel like a failure every time that he looked himself in the eyes.
A part of him wishes he could forget those moments in his life.
Another part of him thinks of a younger Vessel meeting a younger II back in Bath. Thinks of III maxing out his cards and quitting his job to pile into the back of a rundown van alongside them. Chasing a dream that felt impossible to reach.
They never knew what the future had in store for them.
Ivy doesn’t either. He never has. But for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel fear when he thinks of the unknown. Every choice that led him here. Every bad memory. Every illness. Every fleeting joy.
It all amounted to something. It all coalesced into forging him into someone better and stronger in the end.
He never used to think of himself as something worth protecting. He realizes now that he always has been.
-
Ivy can still hardly believe his mates’ kindness.
It’s the hardest thing for him to reconcile with, being cared for so implicitly by another. As they step inside his family’s new home, Ivy’s heart feels liable to burst with the sheer amount of love and appreciation that washes over him. It’s his first time seeing it in person. Sequestered away for the past few weeks, resting and regaining his strength with help from his physical therapist.
The warm cream colored walls of the living room are accompanied by vibrant shades of blues and yellows. Each piece of furniture that he sees is nicer than the last. The kitchen that his mam stands in reminds him of the housing magazines she used to read when he was a child. Eyeballing the gorgeous kitchens and wistfully cataloguing the things about them that she liked. She has all of that and more now, Ivy thinks as he gives him mother a hug.
She looks younger now than she has in years. His father does, too. Gone are the dark circles under their eyes from stress. Gone is the dull sheen in their eyes from the day to day grind at the factory. They look alive in a way they haven’t in years. Less troubled. Less worried. More happy and bright.
Alys’s hug is more careful than her usual vice of an embrace. Her round stomach presses against the flatness of his own and he can’t help but laugh as the baby kicks against the palm of his hand when she allows him to feel it. Evan’s scent is more muted now. Grounded and controlled. Every phone call and visit with II paying off as the drummer helps the newly presented Pliant Omega navigate the unfortunate intricacies of their world.
He lets Evan show him around the home. The bedroom where he sleeps, outfitted with a desk meant for writing and a piano that Vessel insists on teaching him. The office where Alys’ husband, Gareth, now works from home; having acquired a new job the week prior. One that allowed for him and Alys to stay. Evan proudly shows off their parent’s bedroom, the slate gray walls and perfectly complimentary furniture that Ivy knows without asking was picked out by Vessel himself; as if somehow, he had known his parent’s dream.
"We even have a room for you," Evan exclaims with a shy grin as he opens one of the other bedroom doors. Ivy's heart swells with affection as Evan ushers him inside. "I figured you could come stay the night sometime. If you can ever get away. Lucas paid for everything, but... he let me pick out the furniture. I thought that you'd like it."
"You're a good kid, you know that?" Ivy chokes out, biting back emotion as he pulls his brother into a hug. Strawberries and fresh cream fill his nostrils. A reminder of Evan's status. His plight. Ivy's Alpha responds by exuding his scent, covering it up with his own. Protecting him even when Evan doesn't need it. Just as he's always done. Just as he always will.
"Come on, let me show you the baby's room next," Evan chuckles as he wiggles out of Ivy's hold. They follow after Evan silently, slipping inside yet another newly installed door while Evan flips on the lights.
The nursery takes Ivy's breath away, as well as the jack-and-jill bathroom that it shares with Alys’s own bedroom. It’s easy for him to imagine her there. Cradling his niece or nephew. Swaddling them in soft fabrics. Singing them to sleep.
It’s easy for him to imagine II there. Tending to a child of their own. Playfully drumming his fingers over the crib. Bouncing a pup on his knee. Holding them close, swathed in the expensive throw blankets that Vessel insists they’ll never have enough of. His throat feels dry as Evan bounds back down the stairwell, leaving him alone with his mates at the top of the stairs.
The home smells like his home never did, in spite of his mam’s best efforts.
It smells clean. Like freshly baked pies and roasting veal chops. Like fresh herbs from her patio planters. Like a well loved, well lived in home.
His eyes water before he can stop them. Tipping over and rushing down his flushed skin as he chews on the inside of his cheek. His scent wavers as II slips into his hold, burying his face against his chest. III’s hand finds the small of his back. Vessel’s fingertips dance over the skin of his cheeks, brushing the tears away from his lashline. Ivy blinks dumbly. Choking on the words he wishes he could say. The expression of his gratitude. His remorse for not being able to do this for his family sooner. Not being able to do this for them on his own.
His regrets are as aplenty as they are pointless, in the end.
Everything he has, everything he is, he owes to the people under this roof.
The mother and father who bore and raised him, giving him what little they could. Ensuring that he was loved and cared for, even if he didn’t always love and care for himself.
The elder sister who always supported him in everything he did. Who sacrificed her own wants and dreams to take care of their parents. All so that Ivy didn’t have to. All so that he could so selfishly pursue his own dreams. He hopes he’s made it up to her with this. Hopes that she feels free now from the crippling weight on her shoulders. He hopes that she knows the depths of his love for her. The eternal gratitude he feels.
The younger brother who surprised them all with his arrival. The one he always wants to, and will, protect. The one who he teases. The one he taught how to skateboard. How to ride a bike. How to change a tire. The one who relies on him and his mates so heavily now.
The mates alongside him, the ones who he owes everything he has now to. The ones who his family can never repay. The ones who never expect them to.
“Your family are good people. They deserve all of this and more,” Vessel shushes him, leaning down to kiss his brow. Ivy breathes in their mingling scents. Instinctively takes the offered hand of Harmony. Breathes in slowly. Exhales even slower. Grateful that his lungs work at all. Grateful that he can breath without the horrible feeling of plastic pressing against his teeth, crammed down his throat and choking.
“You’re the best of people,” III hums, kissing his other cheek. Rubbing soothing circles into his back. His side. “You deserve good things too, love.”
“I can never thank you enough,” Ivy grits out because it’s all that he can think of. All that he can say. A million ideas swirl around in his mind. A million words he can never express. A million debts he can never repay.
II’s blindingly white smile fills his gaze as the little Omega shoos their other mates away and firmly grips both of his cheeks. Ivy smiles in spite of his tears as II crashes their lips together in a kiss that’s as sweet as it is desperate. He returns the pleasant pressure. Shifts his weight to alleviate the sting in his rear as II pulls backward, shaking his head slowly. Smiling softly all the while.
“You already know this, but you don’t have to thank us,” II reminds him, and once more he is right.
But sometimes it’s nice to hear it. The things you know are true, coming from the lips of another.
It eats away the last of his guilt. Smooths away the remainder of his doubts. II’s eyes are filled with love as he sighs softly and pulls Ivy downward once again. Resting their foreheads together. Rocking them gently back and forth as Ivy calms himself and the rapid beating of his heart.
A call for dinner sounds from downstairs. His mother’s voice carries, echoing off the walls as it reaches them. He sniffles once. Kisses II’s brow. Then slowly peels away, wiping at his eyes until they’re dry once again.
“Did we ever find out what was for dinner?” III questions with a lilt.
And while Ivy knows the smells coming from the kitchen, has smelled those dishes all his life growing up in his childhood home, he can’t help but laugh and take off down the stairs. Leaving his mates in brief, stunned silence before the sound of thunderous footsteps follows after him. They call his name. Tease. Shout. Cause a ruckus that reminds him of his youth as he barrels down the hall.
It’s a moment of playfulness. A moment of reprieve. A moment of good fun, devoid of the heaviness that had only just washed over him.
He's tired of crying, even if it comes naturally to him now.
He wants to smile more. Laugh more. Worry less.
There’s still three weeks left until Wembley.
Ivy wants to make the most of them.
Notes:
Announcement time!
So, this story might almost be at its natural end, but there is still yet another story left to tell. I will be doing either a collection, or a direct sequel, to this fic in the not so distant future. The goal is a month or so from now while I work on a few other projects and get back into the groove of things with university. All in all, LENSFLARE is ending. But this world still has a lot left to explore. The outline for the continuation has been done for over a month and I think you all will enjoy what is yet to come! <3
Stay tuned for that in the future, if you're interested! In the meantime, I will see you all in a few days for LENSFLARE's final chapter. :)
Chapter 30: Coda
Summary:
Nothing lasts forever.
Notes:
Hello, everyone.
Before we begin, I want to take a moment to thank all of you for the amazing support on this fic. It is a bittersweet moment for me to mark this story as completed. I'm beyond proud of how it has turned out, but I will absolutely miss this fic. Thank you all again for joining me for the journey. As I said in the previous chapter, there is much to come in this universe I've crafted. However, this story ends here. Stay tuned for more in the future, whether it be a direct sequel or a collection of one-shots/short stories, if you're interested in that!
For now, the sun has set. What a wild ride.
I want to take a moment to thank JayDawnSin, ghostsvessel, and hijackedhalfdeity for all of their incredible help throughout the process of writing this fic. Thank you Jay for betaing this fic for me, you are incredible. Thank you ghost for the visualizers and all your incredible feedback. Thank you hijacked for all of your feedback as well. You guys are the best.
BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: Myself, alongside a few wonderful individuals, have created a Discord server for writers, readers, and artists here in the Sleep Token community! We have various chats, voice chats, forums, art channels, brainstorming channels, writing channels, and feedback channels that have already been set up for use. We have an incredible and dedicated mod team to help get this server off the ground, and keep it safe and functional for everyone! Come hangout, meet new people, get assistance with a fic or an idea you're having, or share your art and writing with us! We do ask that you be 18+ to join the server. We are operating purely on an honor system. No verification is required. The sever is officially live as of now, but we continue to work on it and make improvements. We would love to see you there!
You can find a link for the new community discord here: Sleep Token Creative Guild
Please be sure to read the rules, and follow all bot commands for access to the correct channels!
Also, you can find me on Discord! My username is itsminthis (@itsminthis)! Feel free to add me! If you have any questions about the server, or just want to chat, my DMs are always open!
For the last time on this fic, enjoy and take care out there!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wembley.
Nerves and anticipation course through Ivy’s veins as he sits backstage, lounging on a sofa. The cracked black leather squeaks as he shifts, his palm flexing over the arm of the loveseat. III lies beside him. Curled up into a ball. His head rests in Ivy’s lap. Golden blond locks splayed out over the black techwear joggers that Ivy sports. Ivy threads his fingers through III’s pale strands, brushing them back as the Empath blinks upward at him.
Across the room, Vessel sits with his chest bare. II’s steady hand drags the thick kabuki style brush over Vessel’s shoulder, staining their Dominant mate’s skin a familiar shade of black. Each movement is precise. Practiced. Rehearsed. Performed time and time again. II paints Vessel like the masterpiece that he is, all while Vessel sits as still as a statue before the well-lit vanity.
Inside their dressing room is quiet. Outside, chaos. Twelve thousand people await them. The largest show they’ve ever played to date. Ivy tries not to think about the other firsts the show represents. Fails.
It’s the first show with him back on stage. Their first show back after their canceled tour. Their first time in London this year.
III’s hand rises, cradling his cheek. Pulling him out of his reverie.
“Getting lost in there?” III smiles up at him. Kindness and warmth in his beautiful blue-green eyes. Ivy shakes his head against III’s palm, silently thanking his chosen mate for bringing him back into reality. “Good things ahead, love. Try to stay positive for me, yeah?”
“Always,” Ivy hums in agreement, turning his cheek to kiss the skin of III’s palm.
“Think I’m going to go shirtless tonight,” II announces, regaining their attention. Ivy watches as the drummer drags the brush down Vessel’s spine, forcing a shudder out of the singer. “Not for any other reason other than the fact I want to tease you mercilessly, Ve.”
“How could you?” Vessel huffs out, but it’s an entirely amused sound. Ivy sees the goosebumps rising on the Dominant Alpha’s skin as II dabs the remaining paint on the bristles around the curve of his beltline. “Your scent is getting sweeter.”
“I’m not taking my second round of heat suppressants tonight,” II says with a smirk. Ivy’s Alpha perks up at that. Keen on the implications. But he has no part in this. Not tonight. Tonight, II belongs to Vessel. And Vessel, II. “Think you can trigger that rut of yours for me?”
“I think you don’t even have to ask,” Vessel shudders, his words coming out as a growl. Lavender dances on the ocean’s breeze as Ivy continues threading his fingers through III’s mess of hair. His Alpha whines pathetically. Desperate for a taste of what II’s heat has to offer. Desperate to be on the receiving end once more of Vessel’s rut.
But, they have all the time in the world for that. His day will come. His time spent with them matters more. Their pursuits and desires mean more than his fleeting need for a different kind of pleasure.
They have the rest of their lives for those things. What they don’t have the rest of their lives for is the chance to have a proper family to call their own.
“Don’t sweat it, doll,” III mumbles up at him, stroking his cheek once again. “You and me can spend the rest of the night doing whatever you want. If you want us to order some takeout and cuddle in the living room or den, we can. If you want to spend it in the studio, we can.” III trails off, a devious smile forming on his pretty lips. “Or you can fuck me silly in one of the five hundred guest rooms we have now. Your choice.”
Their new home.
The sprawling manor in the safest area they could find. It’s not fully furnished by any means, but it’s theirs. It’s warm. Welcoming. Inviting.
The owners had parted with it on the first offer, accepting it without a second thought. Once the inspection was complete and their bags were packed, they had moved in without hesitation. It smells like them now. Not quite up to II’s standards, or Ivy’s own anymore, really, but it carried their scent all the same. It was marked like they were. A place carved out for them by their Dominant mate.
A place to make memories in. Make music. Make a future.
A place to make his mates scream Ivy’s name until it echoed off of the sprawling abode’s towering walls and vaulted ceilings.
Ivy returns III’s smirk with a wink, leaning down into the Empath’s space. Forcing him to shudder.
“Think I’ll butter you up with dinner first,” Ivy says through a lilting tone. His fingers dance downward, curling around III’s chin. He tilts the bassist’s head upward, smirking wider as III’s cheeks flush with color. “Then I’ll have my way with you. Any way that you want me.”
“Fuck, why are you so hot?” III bemoans. Flustered. Cheeks a vibrant shade of pink as Ivy chuckles and slowly releases him. “Ivy is torturing me, little love. Get him.”
“I’m not your attack dog, III,” II shoots back with a pointed glare over his shoulder, but Ivy can feel his amusement as it radiates through their bond. “Besides, I’m too busy riling up Ve.”
“He’s cruel,” Vessel proclaims, shaking his head until II forces him to sit still. “Are the two of you going to go shirtless, too? Make this even more difficult for me than it already is?”
“No way,” III scoffs, shaking his head against Ivy’s lap. Firesmoke and cedar waft in the air, pointed notes of distaste accompanying the Empath’s flourishing scent. “That sight is for my lovely mates and my lovely mates alone.”
“I… might,” Ivy answers with a shrug. Confidence has never been a problem for him. Not when II took all of his clothes on their first tour bus and used them for his nest. Not when he first slept with his mates, or any other meaningless partner that came before them. II finishes painting Vessel’s chest with a few well placed, saturated strokes before quickly making his way down the singer’s hands.
“Come sit next then,” II instructs, and Ivy shoots III an apologetic glance.
“Gonna need my legs back, love,” Ivy says through a begrudging smile as III pouts at him.
“I will never forgive you for this,” III chuffs before breaking out into a giggle. Ivy snickers as the Empath swings his legs to the side, sitting up a moment later. “I’m up, I’m up. Do we need anything else before curtains? We’ve got about an hour before the soundcheck.”
“Don’t think so,” II answers as Ivy rises from the sofa. He stretches out his limbs. Feeling his neck and spine crack as he yawns. “I’m having a delivery made just before we get home. We’re going to need snacks if Vessel and I start our cycles.”
“I’ll keep you both well fed,” III promises through his laugh, winking at the duo. “After Ivy takes me apart, that is. Sounds like we all have something to look forward to then.”
“Nevermind the fact that there’s a sea of people out there waiting for us to perform,” Ivy muses as he shrugs off his jacket, tossing his hat aside a second later. “I guess it’s no different than us performing at that festival. But this time… they’re all really here for us, aren’t they?”
“Us and us alone,” Vessel responds with a snort. Ivy’s eyes flit to where II’s brush continues its skilled strokes. Deft hands, already splattered with dark paint, continue about their work. Staining every visible inch of Vessel’s skin a familiar shade of black. “Surreal, isn’t it? I… I’m a bit nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous,” II says as he finishes Vessel’s left hand and moves on to his right. “You’ve done this time and time again. They say they’re here for us, but what they mean to say is they’re here for you. Your music has done a lot more than change our lives. You’ve changed a lot of people’s, Ve. Be proud of what you’ve done, and go out there knowing that they’re all here because they want to hear you.”
“Who’s the sappy one now, little love?” III comments through a smile, stepping forward to kiss the crown of Vessel’s head. “All jokes aside, II is right, love. You’re the one who brought us all together here. Everyone here under this roof, really. All of us included.”
“II discredits himself too much,” Vessel disagrees, and Ivy doesn’t need to see the singer’s face to know that he’s pouting out of displeasure. II sighs softly, stepping in front of their Dominant mate as he raises the brush once again. Ivy watches the freshly gathered paint drip down the bristles as he takes a step forward.
“I don’t discredit myself for anything, but you are the focal point. You always are, and I’m glad for that, Ve.” II remarks as he leans in, setting about the task of silencing the singer with a brush pressed against his lips. “Don’t you get it, Vessel? I can take to the stage and do my thing without fear because of you. You’ve changed my life more than the music ever has. Call it sappy if you will, but it’s true. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
The words hang heavy. The praise settles over them, lingering in the silence of the room.
Ivy steps forward on instinct, not his Alpha’s own, but a learned thing with time and knowledge. He wipes Vessel’s eyes before the tears can ever fall, mindful not to knock II’s hands in the process.
“You’re allowed to be emotional,” Ivy reiterates as he wipes yet another unshed tear. Dark caramel eyes flit up at him as he slowly removes his hand. “But everything they’ve said is true, you know? I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, Vessel. Your music didn’t save me, even if it brought us together. But you did. You deserve all the success in the world, even if you don’t want the spotlight on yourself. Enjoy it as much as you can. We’ll be right behind you.”
“I’ll show you my own form of appreciation tonight,” II promises as he leans in closer, painting the curve of Vessel’s cheek. His nose. Leaving his eyes and the sensitive skin around them be. “I’m letting you do the thing you’ve always wanted, Vessel. I want it, too. Let’s… make it memorable, yeah?”
“I’m going to keep you in our nest for days,” Vessel sniffles, but there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. A wolfishness to his smile. Sharp fangs. Glimmering white teeth. Ivy chuckles alongside III. II puts the brush back on the dresser next to the paint tin, rolling his eyes.
“You’re going to keep me in our nest until you’re certain that it takes,” II proclaims with an entirely seductive smile. “Not that I mind that, mind you. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
“Fuck’s sake, little love,” III exclaims, gnawing on his bottom lip. “We’ll never make it to the stage if we keep talking like this.”
“Can’t have that now, can we?” Ivy agrees, but there’s amusement in his tone as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head without second thought. Hears the creaking of the stool as he rises, knowing that Vessel has abandoned his chair. As he pulls it overhead and tosses it behind him towards the couch, III lets out an appreciative whistle.
Ivy steps forward, walking towards the stool, then he abruptly freezes.
His eyes land on his reflection. On his stomach. On the surgical scars that line his abdomen.
His scent sours immediately. His Alpha ducks its head. He’s gone so long without thinking about it. Doesn’t mind if his mates see it, they’ve kissed the lines a thousand times before. Doesn’t mind if his family sees it, it’s a reminder of what he endured. But it’s bigger than the scar he had as a child. Angrier than the one that came before.
It’s noticeable. Even if it were to be painted jet black, there would be no hiding it.
Everyone would see it. The internet would post. Speculate. Discuss his health. His collapse. The picture that floated around the internet of Vessel snarling on stage, downward at the crowd, with Ivy’s blood on his lips from where he had bitten him. Injected his venom.
He doesn’t want to subject his mates to more speculation. More ridicule. More prying.
He doesn’t want to subject himself to more stranger’s input on his life, when no one in truth knew him or his ordeal.
“Ivy,” II calls, and it is that sound that pulls him out of his head. A place he feels stuck more often. A place he gets tired of visiting when the reminders of his ordeal get to be too much. He needs to talk to someone. To work through the lingering trauma. It never impacted him before, what happened to him as a child.
But he had nothing to lose back then. Nothing to gain from staying. No concept of life and death as a whole.
II’s hands find his cheek. Ground him. Hold him in place, preventing him from spiralling further.
He’s been doing so well.
But he knows, reminds himself once more, that healing isn’t linear.
There would be setbacks. Ivy expected them. But he didn’t want them. Not now. Not like this. Not over this.
“The people in your life who love you don’t care about those scars, only what they mean,” II reminds him. Ivy lets out a shuddered breath as he lowers his head. His forehead rests against II’s. They breathe the same air. It’s warm. Comforting. “Do you think that our future pups will care how you got these scars? Or why you have them?”
II’s words steal his breath. Still his rapidly beating heart. Silence him. Soft, but callused hands cradle his cheeks. Wipe away his tears. Hold him. Reverant. Loving. He feels whole again, held together by II. By his Omega. The love of his life.
“They won’t, you know? They’ll look at you and see their tad, that’s all.” II continues, and Ivy feels his throat constrict. The sensation should scare him. The feeling of not being able to breathe. But when it is caused by II’s soft spoken words, it does anything but leave him afraid. “The same way we look at you and see our mate. Our Guardian. Our brave, selfless partner.”
Ivy lets out a shuddered breath, nodding his head against II’s as the little Omega tightens his grip on his cheeks.
“So, don’t you dare worry about what other people have to say, or what they think. Do you hear me?” II asks, gently shaking his head in his hands. “The people that matter know the truth, and love everything about you, Ivy. Don’t you ever feel ashamed over what you survived. I won’t allow it.”
“Stole the words right out of my mouth, little love,” III adds in as he steps into their space. Crowing around them. Gathering them in his arms as he pulls them both to his chest. Ivy melts into the contact. Shivering from their touch. Warming within their embrace. “Ivy, do what you want to do, yeah? Do you want to wear your shirt tonight, or do you want to go without?”
“With,” Ivy manages out. His Alpha ducks his head in shame. Embarrassed over his own cadence, as low as it is. His vibrato is gone. His confidence shaken. But he’s still healing, he reminds himself. Even if the physical wounds are gone, there would be others that were slow to heal.
“Here,” Vessel chimes in, holding out his shirt. Ivy never even saw him move. Never saw him lift it from the couch. Ivy takes it, sliding it between himself and II as III slowly releases them. Vessel’s hand reaches for his back, rubbing circles in it as Ivy lets out another shuddered breath. “You okay, my love?”
“I’m fine,” he assures them, forcing himself to regulate his breathing. II’s hands squeeze his cheeks before reluctantly parting from him. Ivy says nothing as he slips his shirt back on, suddenly feeling naked once more without his coat. His eyes dart behind him to the sofa. His soured scent remains heavy in the air. Heady. Nauseating. Vessel steps forward, taking the coat and hat from the sofa. Ivy takes them with a small, appreciative smile.
“I love you,” Vessel whispers softly, leaning down and pressing his lips against Ivy’s brow. It twitches beneath the singer’s lips. But Ivy feels himself calming all the same. His Alpha settles. His scent recedes. The Dominant Alpha’s presence eats away at the worst of his insecurities. II’s offered Harmony forces them down further until Ivy lets out a contented sigh.
“I love you, too. I’m… trying my best to get over it. I’m good on most days, really. But… some days it just hits me, and… it’s hard not to think about it,” Ivy admits sheepishly, sliding his arms into his familiar leather coat.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” III assures him with a lilt. Ivy feels hearthsmoke coil in the air. Cling to his nostrils. Serving as a guidepost to further ground him back to the present. “Want to come snuggle with me on the couch for a bit longer? II can paint us a bit later.”
“No, it’s fine…” Ivy answers with a shake of his head. “You care to get me covered, II?”
“Of course not,” II responds, pointing towards the stool. Ivy nods sternly, sliding out of Vessel’s hold as he approaches the vacant chair. He perches himself atop it, studying the tired lines of his expression as he hands his unneeded hat over to II. The drummer places it on the vanity before taking up the brush once more. Ivy watches as the little Omega dips it into the paint before pressing it to the shaking skin of his hands. “Everyone is going to be excited to see you out there again, you know that?”
Ivy licks his drying lips, remaining silent as II continues about his work. The paint is cold against his flushed skin. His hands tremble as the drummer ghosts the brush over them. But no one says a word of his state of disarray. No one mentions the lingering anxiety he feels, for which he’s grateful.
“People adore you, love, it’s true.” III adds in with a smile as he ducks into view, assessing II’s handiwork. “They love your style the most, I’m afraid. I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”
“You’re not offended, you’re jealous,” II snorts, and the sound alone brings a smile to Ivy’s lips. “You have no idea how much you mean to our fans because you don’t frequent social media. But trust us, you are very much adored. Rightfully so.”
“You’re being awfully nice today,” Ivy teases, a familiar thing made easy when II offers him that look that says more than words ever could. He can feel II’s concern alongside his happiness. His nerves. His eagerness. His worry. His stress.
Ivy never wants to contribute to that, the negative emotions. But he knows that that is an unreasonable goal.
Life has its ups and down. So does he. So do they all.
“I’m due for a heat,” II reminds him, rolling his pretty eyes once more. Ivy loses himself in pale blue waves. In the smell of comforting lavender. In the warmth of vanilla and spice. Lets honey fill in the gaps and creases in himself as his own scent levels out, melding into II’s. “I want Vessel to knock me up. Of course I’m being sweet.”
Ivy chokes on air as III lets out an abrupt cackle. Vessel’s words come out a garbled mess. Incoherent. Taken aback. And it only makes him laugh louder. Hearing their Dominant made, usually so eloquently spoken and well put together, at a complete and total loss.
II’s giggle rings in his ears. Happiness seeps into his bones. The promise of a better future. The sparkle in the little Omega’s eyes. It lights a fire under him. Warms him. Wills him to do better. To want to be better. To give everything he has to them, but to also take care of themselves.
“While not half as tempting as giving into II’s wants,” III starts, forcing his words out through a wheeze. “Don’t forget you owe me dinner, and I owe you a night you won’t forget.”
“Any night with you is a night worth remembering,” Ivy remarks with a wink, happy to see III’s cheeks flush with color as his words sink in. “All jokes aside, it’s just been… a very long journey to get here. Maybe I’m a bit nervous to get back out there, that’s all.”
He is nervous.
Nervous to take to the stage in front of that many people. Nervous to feel the weight of his guitar back around his neck. See black body paint over his skin. Nervous to see a sea of unfamiliar faces looking back at him.
Nervous because the last time he was up there, performing before their fans, it nearly cost him his life.
He still remembers the sensation of almost dying. Still remembers the spots that appeared in his vision as he lost consciousness. Remembers the flashing images. The memories. The sights. The muted sounds. The sensations. He remembers it all in excruciating detail, he realizes. All things that he had thought he had forgotten. A piece of himself lost to the haze of fever. A singular act of mercy in his near-demise.
He’s confronted with that now as II finishes painting his skin, dragging cold paint over his warm neck.
He remembers it all painfully well, and it scares him. The idea of having that happen to him again.
Realistically, he knows he’s healthy. He’s been cleared by his doctors and the physical therapist back at home. But that doesn’t stop the sensation from sinking in. The memories from haunting him. Tormenting him.
He feels himself start to spiral once again.
He feels large hands, devoid of calluses, tip his head back.
He stares upward into caramel. Boiling, rolling sugar. Into the eyes of the one who saved his life. Who never left his side. Who held not only their pack, but him, together. Who sacrificed so much for him, expecting nothing in return. He doesn’t want to let Vessel down. He wants to make it up to him. But above all, in that moment, all he wants is to see his Dominant mate smile.
Vessel’s lips peel back, wolfish fangs glinting in the low light, and Ivy feels his rabbit fast heartbeat settle.
“Do you remember what you told me, just a little while ago?” Vessel questions, smoothing back his hair. Forcing their eyes to remain locked. Ivy’s Alpha responds to its mate’s call. And Ivy feels himself getting lost in Vessel’s boundless, gentle sea. “We’ll be right there with you the entire time, my love. Nothing is going to happen to you, or any of us. Everything will be fine, Ivy. I promise you.”
A promise.
A promise Ivy knows Vessel will do everything in his power to keep. His mate is the strongest man he knows. The most level headed. The most caring. Compassionate. Concerned. Loving. Selfless. Giving. Vessel is everything to him.
Ivy trusts him now, even when he can’t trust himself.
“You’re going to make me cry, you know?” III sniffles, and Ivy’s head jerks in Vessel’s painted hands. His gaze immediately falls on III, who leans against the dresser with a pout. “You asked me to be more open about things, so I am. Ivy… you’re hurting, love. I hate it. I wish I could just… take those memories away from you.”
“I don’t,” Ivy mumbles as II steps back, allowing him to slide off of the stool. Vessel’s hands ghost over the skin of his neck as they release him. Ivy doesn’t hesitate to stride forward. To seize III’s neck with his arms and drag the Empath down. Dark paint stains III’s cream colored hoodie. Neither of them pull away in spite of it. “I’ll admit it, I’m nervous. I don’t want to see how people react to me being back, and I don’t want what happened to me back in Dallas to ever happen to me again. But I don’t want to forget what happened either.”
Ivy breathes in deep. Exhales slow. Offers III what he hopes to be a reassuring smile.
“I learned a lot from what happened to me, as traumatizing as it was for all of us involved,” Ivy continues, his thumbs ghosting over III’s freshly shaved skin. Slinking downward. Tracing the line of II’s claim. Vessel’s claim. His own. It mattered not if it was a scar, or a true claim left in III’s neck. The Empath was his. He’s never thought of him any other way. “I’m good, love. Promise you. It just hit me all at once, that’s all.”
He speaks the truth, knowing the futility of lying. III felt everything he did. All his anxiety. His insecurities. His pleasure. His pain. His happiness. His fear. There was little sense in lying, not that he ever would. III deserved the truth. Deserved to be held for being made to endure it, their conflicting, overwhelming emotions. III might not be the most physically imposing in spite of his stature, but Ivy admires his strength all the same.
The quiet strength of his body, and the quiet strength of his intelligent, empathetic soul.
“You have every right to have reservations about it, I know this isn’t easy,” III bats his eyes, and Ivy’s only grateful to see the unshed tears in them disappear out of sight. Gone as the Empath offers him a warm, charming smile. He’s always been pretty. Ivy’s always thought that. His eyes trace the familiar line of the crows feet that form on III’s skin as he smiles. It eats away at his lingering worries. His doubts. He reaches up, leaving black paint behind as he traces over them with his fingertips.
“You’re right, but… I’ll be okay,” Ivy hums, walking to the side as he reluctantly lets his hands fall away. “Go get painted. We don’t have a lot more time, do we?”
“Not much, no,” Vessel answers as Ivy spins on his heel, leaning against the dresser as III collapses in the stool. II glances at each of them, and Ivy can feel his lingering concern. But the little Omega says nothing else as he takes back up the brush, dipping into the paint before he begins the process anew.
“Thank you all for everything,” Ivy says again, speaking softly. Shattering the remote quiet. Vessel cocks an eyebrow at him. But Ivy can’t help but laugh. Seeing his mate’s face half painted, paired with such an expression. Vessel grins, stepping forward as Ivy snorts, trying his best to reel it in. “You… look cute like that, you know?”
“It’s better than scrubbing this stuff off of my eyes,” Vessel explains, grimacing in apparent distaste. Ivy’s never had a problem with it; he paints them every time they perform. But he imagines Vessel grows annoyed and tired of it, scrubbing the excess of paint off his skin, exposing more of himself than they do. Vessel clears his throat, his voice pitches itself lower the next time that he speaks. “Do me a favor when we get back home, Ivy?”
“Anything, yeah,” Ivy answers, tilting his head up as Vessel leans down, whispering in his ear. His breath a warm ghost over the exposed skin of his neck. Over his exposed scent gland. Their claims.
“Take care of yourself and III,” Vessel pleads. Not an easy task for a Dominant. Asking for help. Asking for someone else to do its perceived job. Ivy swallows thickly. Feels his Alpha keen as it is once more called upon, this time with purpose. “II is going to be the death of me, talking the way he is. Teasing me all night. If I go into rut with him, I won’t be coming out of our nest until we’re both done. My Alpha and his Omega, that is. Guard the house for me.”
“You know I’d do that without being asked, Vessel,” Ivy reminds him, leaning into Vessel’s offered touch. The Dominant Alpha nuzzles him gently, impairing behind the salt of the sea. The overwhelming scent of the sky. Ivy gives him back the scent of amber. The smell of leather left to warm underneath the burning sun. They rest against one another for a moment, basking in each other’s presence before Vessel turns into him, kissing his cheek.
“Like I said, take care of yourself too,” Vessel continues, and Ivy finds himself nodding along. “Eat something, decompress with III. Do whatever you have to do. I know you’re healed physically, love, but these things take time. Don’t push yourself, please. I… worry about you.”
“The only thing you should be worried about tonight is our insatiable mates,” Ivy responds, shifting. Turning on his heel. Pressing his lips against Vessel’s own. They taste of paint beneath his, but they’re plush and warm all the same. Ivy dares not add heat into the mix. Knows they can’t stand it. Not right now. Not when emotions are high, and instincts threaten to run rampant. Instead, he forces himself to peel back. To kiss the exposed skin atop Vessel’s nose.
“I worry about you all, always,” Vessel sighs, but the Dominant Alpha’s scent lightens all the same. “Thank you for everything, Ivy.”
Ivy blinks dumbly. Feels his lips part as Vessel takes a step back. III rises from the stool, dripping with freshly applied paint. II says nothing as he chucks his shirt off, throwing it into the corner with abandon before he begins painting dark lines across his own skin.
Warmth floods Ivy’s cheeks.
They’re ours, he reminds himself. Reminds his rousing Alpha.
A smile forms on his lips in spite of his confusion as Vessel’s words of gratitude ring in his ears.
“What are you thanking me for?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
II cranes his neck backward, staining the skin of his neck in streaky onyx hues.
“What’s not to thank you for?” II calls back, lulling his head to the side. “You’re our Guardian, aren't you? Thanks for choosing to protect us, even when we can’t protect ourselves. But don’t forget to protect yourself, too. That’s all. Right, Ve?”
Vessel nods, shooting II an appreciative smile as he looks at him.
Ivy has a million questions. Wants to know why they’d ever thank him at all. But he knows no matter what inquiries he poses, he’d never understand why. The same reason they will never understand why he will continue to thank them, time and time again, for each and every little thing that they do.
“Soundcheck is in five,” III reminds them, shrugging off his hoodie and reaching for a glimmering black and gold coat. “You about ready, loves?”
“Ready,” Vessel responds, approaching their costume rack and seizing his cloak from its hanger.
“Ready,” II retorts, sliding down from the stool and inspecting himself in the mirror before his eyes fall on Ivy.
Pale blue meets Ivy’s abyssal oceans. A blinding white smile clouds his vision, whiting out the rest with familiar, shimmering light.
“Ready,” Ivy answers, offering his mates, his pack, a genuine, grateful smile.
That moment of connection, that moment of happiness, of pride in each other and their shared craft, he never wants it to fade away.
He'll never allow himself to forget it.
Never take it for granted.
III's laugh rings in his ears as the Empath claps his hands, uttering a simple, familiar phrase.
“It's showtime.”
Ivy feels the negative emotions slip away. Replaced entirely with anticipation, as he follows his mates out of the green room. He walks with newfound confidence behind them. Anticipation, eagerness, and love coursing through his veins.
All of their losses and struggles. Their sacrifices and choices. All things that led them together have also led them to this moment.
It will be a night they never forget.
Ivy is determined to keep it that way.
-
One by one Ivy watches his mates walk beyond the curtain on stage. Vessel strides forward with confidence. III's long limbs carry him to the right hand side with grace. II holds his drumsticks up triumphantly as he ascends his riser positioned at the back of the stage.
The cheers they receive are thunderous. The floor itself shakes with the sound of the elated cries from the crowd. It brings him immense joy. Knowing that there were others out there that cherished and appreciated his mates with equal enthusiasm. But none could worship them like he can.
Three figures take their place in the spotlight, but one piece is still missing. One role left to fill.
He grips his guitar tightly, the one that III gifted him, the one that matches the Empath’s bass. He holds it reverently by its neck as he takes in a deep breath, strings digging into his fingertips, then exhales slowly. Beneath his mask, he smiles.
Ivy enters from stage left to the sound of a deafening applause.
Notes:
Thus, the curtain closes on arguably my favorite fic I've ever written.
Thank you all so much for accompanying me on the journey. I hope to see you around, be it in the new discord, or on the sequel to LENSFLARE in the future, or any of my other works! As always, take care.
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