Work Text:
Soap has been sitting at his desk for the last hour, pen scribbling onto page after page of paper. The entire 141 just got back from what was easily the most tedious mission he’d been on all year. Every step of the way something went wrong. Now Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Price were saddled with incident reports on top of the already mind-numbing paperwork they’d do after each mission.
His already fleeting concentration was broken by a knock on the door.
“Come in.” He spoke, already knowing who was at the door by the sound of the knock alone.
“How’s the work coming along?” Ghost spoke.
“Like hell. How’s yours?” Soap turned to look at the man approaching his side.
“Won’t be bad much longer.” Ghost plopped a stack of papers down over Soap’s own work.
Soap looked up at him through narrowed eyes. “What’s this?”
“Your work. Have it back to me by 1500 hours.”
“ My work, huh.” He shook his head in disbelief, eyes focusing on the printed “Lieutenant Ghost” at the top of each page.
“I know you’ll get it done, Sergeant. ” Ghost was pulling rank with a soft smile in his eyes and Soap was ready to punch the bastard. Soap didn’t miss the heavier scent of his pheromones wafting through the room. The asshole must think if he stinks up the place enough, Soap will submit.
“What will you do with your afternoon?”
Ghost tilted his head in confusion.
“Now that your afternoon is freed up, what will you do with it?”
“Haven’t thought about that.”
In that moment, Soap decided exactly what Ghost’s afternoon would look like.
Ghost was pinned face-down to Soap’s bed. Soap had him bracketed in, both of Ghost’s arms pressed behind his back, a dark red rope looping itself around them. He pulled the rope tight against his skin, a small groan escaping Simon. Soap dug his knee deeper into his lower back before pulling off. He lifted the lieutenant by the hair and wrapped the rope around his midsection, dragging it down his stomach and between his legs.
Soap knotted the rope around his body, lifting and maneuvering Simon into whatever position needed. Simon’s face was bright red, blush creeping down his neck and shoulders. Each time Soap lifted him like he weighed nothing, flipped him, or pinned him down, ropes tugging tight against his skin, he felt his face grow hotter. He hardly put up a fight, despite what his instincts told him. He attempted squirming against Soap while he stripped him of his clothes, but a harsh bite to his shoulder and a hand scruffing the back of his neck stilled him quickly. He resigned himself to Soap, laying limp and allowing the omega to manhandle him however he pleased.
Finally, Ghost laid back in the position they started in, face pressed into the mattress so hard he could barely breathe, Soap’s knee digging into his lower back, and arms tied behind his back.
Simon whined, attempting to grind his hips down into the mattress below, searching for any type of friction. Soap’s knee and the ropes intricately tied around his legs stopped him short.
“Already worked up, Simon?”
“Johnny.” The only word Simon could think to say, the only thing on his mind. The sweet scent of Soap filled his nose and clouded his brain entirely. His voice was muffled by the mattress below, but Johnny understood him all the same.
“You look bonnie, Lt. With an entire afternoon off…” he ran his fingers up and down his back, “you should spend your free time here.”
A long, whiny groan escaped Simon. He tried and failed once again to buck his hips into the mattress. Soap drug his fingertips across the skin of his shoulderblade. His knee slowly slid down off his back and into a straddle.
“I wish I could stay right here on top of you,” his fingers glided into his hair before tangling into it and pulling his face up from the pillow, gasps of breath escaped Simon, “You look so needy right now.”
“Please.” Simon whispered, eyebrows knitting together and mouth falling into a pout.
“Sorry, Lt. I got paperwork.” He dropped Simon’s head, letting it fall back onto the mattress.
“Fuck. Johnny, I’m sorry.” He turned his head to the side, trying his best to look up at the man behind him. “I’ll take it back.”
“Sorry, sir.” He emphasized the honorifics. “I have to follow orders. I can’t disobey my superior, my alpha.” That stupid appeal to his instincts shouldn’t have affected Simon as much as it did, but the thought of Soap following his orders, the feeling of being a good alpha to his sergeant, had him squirming in his restraints.
Soap shuffled off the lieutenant, making his way over to the desk before stopping in his tracks. He opened the top drawer of his nightstand and fished around for something Ghost couldn’t see. Simon pleaded with him the entire time.
“Here, to keep you busy.”
He pulled out a small plug. It was small enough that it could go in with minimal prep, but large enough that it would be impossible to ignore. Soap coated it with lube and slowly worked it into Simon, who growled and squirmed the entire time, a strange mixture of leaning into the feeling and recoiling from it all at once. By the time Soap popped it in, Simon was red in the face and whining. He let out the beginnings of a snarl but was stopped by Soap’s hand scruffing his neck. His interrupted growl melted into little whimpers.
“Stay here and enjoy your afternoon, sir.”
Soap sat down at his desk, ignoring Simon’s pleas and getting started on his reports. Simon laid bare on his bed, restrained and plugged and blushed beyond belief. He let out apology after apology, whines and cries saying he’ll take the paperwork back; all of which were silenced with a shush. Finally, Simon seemed to get the memo. He stopped talking and all Soap could hear from behind him were small whimpers and the shuffling of bed sheets each time the alpha attempted to fight his restraints.
After around thirty minutes, maybe an hour—Soap wasn’t sure—the sound of whimpers picked up behind him. They turned to cries and finally, he was pleading with him again.
“Please, Johnny. I’m sorry.” Soap turned around to the sight of Simon, face red a blotchy, tears welling up in his eyes, voice cracking with each word.
“Are you?” He asked in disbelief.
Simon nodded his head, tears dripping and staining the pillowcase beneath him. “I’m sorry, I am.”
Soap stood from his chair, slowly walking towards Simon. He could see the lieutenant squirm, a false hope igniting in him that maybe he’ll be let off the hook. “I don’t think you are.”
Simon’s eyes somehow became even more teary. “I am. Fuck, Johnny, I am!” He whined, fighting against the ropes.
“You came to my room, stunk up the place, and thought you could push your work onto me just because you’re my superior-”
“I didn’t-” Simon interrupted.
“Yes, you did.” Soap was standing over him now. “You think because I’m an omega I’ll just roll over and do whatever you say-”
“I don’t.” He cried and Soap almost felt bad.
“And now that I’m doing it, you can’t stop interrupting me. Every ten seconds, all I hear behind me is ‘please please please’ and ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.” He leaned down and ran his fingers so gently through his hair that it caught Simon off-guard. “Because of you, I have hours worth of paperwork ahead of me. Be quiet while I work. I’m not letting you out until I return the papers to you at 1500 hours.”
Simon nodded his head, looking up at Soap through wet eyelashes. His face was red and his eyes were perpetually glossy. His chest rose and fell heavily as he practically panted, little whines escaped him without his control.
Soap sat back at his desk, pen scribbling over Simon’s reports. The lieutenant was fairly silent, save for the periodic whimpering muffled by the pillow he had his face pressed into. Every once in a while, Soap felt a pang in his heart at the soft sobs emerging from behind him. He took a deep breath and continued working on the stack of papers in front of him. As time passed, Simon’s scent grew stronger. It wasn’t in the domineering way he had attempted earlier. He was so worked up he couldn’t control his pheromones.
After what felt like hours for both men in the room, Soap had made it past the lieutenant’s reports and through his own. He finished up the last page before stacking them neatly and peering down at his watch. 1400 hours. He finished early.
“Simon.” He called out to the man behind him.
He heard a soft hum of acknowledgement, the man’s face was still pressed into the pillow.
“I finished early. Want your reports back?”
Simon lifted his head up and peered over at Soap, his eyes misty with tears. Pouting, he nodded his head.
Soap stood, papers in hand, and walked over to the man on his bed. They landed harshly over his shoulder, the edges tickling the skin on his face.
“How you feeling?” Soap asked, looking down at his superior.
“Sensitive.” He groaned.
“I did your work for you. Gonna thank me?”
“Thank you, Johnny.” He spoke barely above a whisper.
“What was that?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re no better.” Soap picked up the papers and moved them to the nightstand. “You haven’t made up with me yet.”
“I apologized already. A lot.”
“Not enough. Your papers are due at 1500 hours. It's only 1400 now, how about you spend the next hour making it up to me?”
Soap eased the ropes off Simon, massaging his sore muscles as he did. The lieutenant was still laid flat on his bed, letting out the closest sound an alpha can get to a purr. Soap ran his hands over his body, fingertips grazing his skin. He lifted the man up, rolling him over and once again manhandling him into whatever position he needed. He untied each knot holding Simon together and eased the tension in his muscles. By the time he got all the dark red ropes off his superior, Simon eyes were half-lidded and a loud, deep rumble of a purr was reverberating through him. Soap rolled him onto his stomach and massaged his shoulders, thumbs digging into the muscle and forcing an even louder purr out of the man.
“Thank you, Johnny.”
“For what.”
“For dealing with me.”
“You were supposed to be thanking me for doing your work for ye, but I’ll accept that.”
Soap reached for the lube on his nightstand and gently slid the plug out. He lined himself up and slowly pressed in, just far enough to get the tip in before pulling back out. Simon’s purring picked up, the deep rumble getting even louder. Against all his instincts, he grinded himself back against Soap,
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he babbled, tears filling his eyes again.
Soap pressed himself deeper, hands massaging Simon’s hips.
“Thank you, Johnny. Thank you.”
Soap grinded against Simon until his hips were flush with the lieutenant, fingers digging into him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He hiccuped.
Soap leaned down and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, right over the bite mark he left earlier. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Johnny.” He sobbed, grinding against him. “I’m an asshole.”
“Well, I already knew that.” Soap teased, his slow grinding turning into harder thrusts.
“I’m sorry.” His voice broke and he hid his face in the pillow.
Soap gently ran his hands over the alpha and pressed kisses all along his neck and down to his shoulder. He dug his thumbs into his lower back, releasing the tension in it and drawing a broken groan out of Simon.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated again, voice shaky and higher than an alpha’s usual range. His words were muffled into the pillow, but Johnny always understood Simon.
“Simon,” he whispered into the man’s ear, “feeling guilty?”
The alpha choked down a sob and nodded his head.
“You should.” He said casually, another teary whine escaping Simon. “What kind of an alpha are you, anyways?”
Simon stiffened, entire body going still except for the slight trembling in his legs. Soft whimpers were the only noise Soap could hear from him.
“Aren’t you supposed to take care of omegas?” Soap thrusted harder, forcing his point across. “Instead you're whining like a bitch in heat and making me do all the work. Again.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a terrible alpha.” He turned his head away from the pillow, tears dripping down his face. His voice trembled as he spoke.
Johnny gently brushed his thumb over Simon’s cheek, collecting his tears and wiping them away. He softly brushed his fingertips up Simon’s back, resting them between his shoulder blades before firmly pressing his palm into him, pinning Simon down.
“No. You’re perfect.” Simon was arched below him, chest planted to the mattress, face flushed, eyes teary, and legs shaking. “You present so beautifully.”
Simon relaxed under his touch. His sobs melted into thank you’s and his thank you’s melted into unintelligible whines. He was plush and malleable below Johnny. His skin was flushed red and he let out soft noises each time Soap ran his hands over it. A low rumble sounded out in his chest, a deep purr.
“You’re the perfect alpha. You tied up on my bed all day… I couldn’t ask for a better courting gift.”
Simon let out an intense whine, his back arching against his sergeant. His “purring” grew louder and he came, trembling slightly and whimpering into his pillow.
“Good boy, Simon.” He drug his words out, grinding into him. His pace slowed.
Johnny grinded deep into him, leaning down to nibble at his neck. His chest was pressed to Simon’s back as he bit down, licking over the bite mark after. He whispered praise into Simon’s ear, telling him what a good alpha he is and how well he’s taking it, before finally cumming inside him. He bit down harshly to muffle his moans, hands squeezing Simon’s hips tightly.
The lieutenant practically collapsed onto the mattress, Soap following suit. The two laid on their side, Soap spooning his superior. The sergeant ran his hands up and down Simon’s body, squeezing the dense muscle surrounding practically every part of him. Simon let out soft grunts and whines when Soap squeezed down on his thighs.
“I love alphas,” Soap whispered, “they’re so big.” He wrapped his arms around the man.
Beneath his hand, Soap felt a rumble in Simon’s chest. Another one of his “purrs”. The alpha relaxed into Johnny, eyes closing and chest rumbling softly.
“C’mon, Si. We gotta get cleaned up and get those reports to Price.”
Simon’s soft rumble became almost growl-like as the two begrudgingly forced themselves up.