
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2518733.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies)
  Relationship:
      OT6_-_Relationship, Natasha_Romanov/Tony_Stark, Clint_Barton/Tony_Stark,
      Tony_Stark/Thor, Bruce_Banner/Clint_Barton/Steve_Rogers/Natasha_Romanov/
      Tony_Stark/Thor
  Character:
      Tony_Stark, Natasha_Romanov, Clint_Barton, Thor_(Marvel), Steve_Rogers,
      Bruce_Banner
  Additional Tags:
      OT6, Polyamory, Polyamory_Negotiations, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics,
      Jewelry, Emotional_Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot,
      Porn_With_Plot
  Collections:
      Marvel_Big_Bang_2014, Tony_Stark_has_a_heart
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-27 Words: 22826
****** Diamonds Do Not Equal Love (but they sure mean something) ******
by AngeNoir
Summary
     Tony’s still not always sure how they all fell out like this. Well,
     okay, it isn’t like he’s completelyclueless, he’s always very aware
     of sex, in all its forms and manipulations, going on around him and
     with him.
      
     But Tony had to be blind not to notice the trinkets that Steve and
     Bruce were sporting.
      
     In a world where omegas are given courting gifts of jewelry when
     alphas or betas or other omegas want to have sex with them, the
     media, the newspapers, and talk show hosts always make dismissive and
     disgusted remarks about how Tony Stark sleeps with so many people and
     yet refuses to wear any of their jewelry in public. Self-centered and
     arrogant, some say, while others whisper that, with his wealth, Tony
     really shouldn't be asking for gifts in the first place. Even with
     all the speculation about how rich and how decadent Tony's jewelry
     collection must be, however, no one's ever seen it.
     Because Tony... Tony doesn't have a collection at all.
Notes
     This is a) based off of an avengerkinkmeme prompt I saw a loooong
     while back (thanks to comments, I believe it is this_one) and b) was
     SUPPOSED to be PWP (porn WITHOUT plot) but instead turned into porn
     with plot. Also, I shot for an actual OT6 moment but failed. Instead
     you get Tony with his alphas and beta, and being intimate with his
     fellow omegas.
     Additionally, in this A/B/O world, female alphas have glands within
     their vagina that swell to 'lock' a male omega's penis inside; men
     cannot give birth, though they can produce lubricant from their anus;
     and pack relationships are seen as old fashioned but acceptable -
     normally an establishment only the rich or military still follows.
     Please visit the absolutely LOVELY art done by sukuiddo here!
Tony’s still not always sure how they all fell out like this. Well, okay, it
isn’t like he’s completely clueless, he’s always very aware of sex, in all its
forms and manipulations, going on around him and with him. He knows exactly how
long it took Clint to search out comfort from Agent’s death from Bruce, losing
himself in the omega, and Tony knew exactly when Natasha convinced Steve to
move into the tower. From Clint and Bruce, it branched into including Natasha,
and then Steve, and then, tentatively, Tony.
Tony uses the word tentatively, even though it really wasn’t, because Steve and
Bruce both needed some cajoling and some maneuvering, and while Steve was aware
of military units forming sexual bonds with one another, particularly when
alphas were present, he still was on uneven footing in this era. Bruce was
another story entirely; Bruce had so many hang-ups about his presentation and
the fact that he couldn’t undergo true heats like most other omegas that Bruce
was a minefield that blew up in Clint’s face more than once. Even Natasha left
Bruce-coaxing to Clint, and, once Tony was involved, Tony himself.
But they finally invited Tony into their little group, their slowly-growing
team, and it was difficult for one alpha and one beta to handle three omegas,
even if one of the omegas didn’t really go into heat, so when Thor came back
from Asgard, it took little to no time to bring him in. And man, did Thor add
to their group. Tony enjoyed everyone’s presence equally, but Thor was by far
his favorite.
He was getting ahead of himself, though. They had all fallen into each other,
and there was love and affection from everyone – Tony had certainly been nearly
undone by Thor’s careful praise and Clint’s low growl of approval and Natasha’s
easy, self-assured possessive touches and pats – but Tony had to be blind not
to notice the trinkets that Steve and Bruce were sporting. He’d noticed in an
absent way that when the first pairing, Clint and Bruce, had taken place, Bruce
had sported a simple silver chain necklace with a few green stones thrown into
the mix. When Steve had moved to the tower and slid into place with Clint,
Bruce, and Natasha, he went around with a new leather bracelet that dangled a
few charms over his wrist. The other omegas had gotten a few things – small
things, more like trinkets, really – but things.
Tony hadn’t really gotten more than a hopeful invitation and really good sex.
Which, to be honest, was par for the course. After all, if his first time
hadn’t been worth getting a trinket about, why would his however-many-
thousandth-time rate some jewelry?
                                      ***
The funny thing was that so many rumors swirled about Tony’s ‘collection.’
Every omega had a collection of jewelry, courting gifts from alphas and betas
who hoped to grace the omega’s bed. Omegas who didn’t have collections were few
and far between, and generally speaking those few were hookers who were paid
for their sex in things other than trinkets and promises.
Tony was that 0.00001% who wasn’t a hooker and didn’t have a collection.
See, Tony was, at fifteen, precocious. He’d wanted to seem as adult as all the
other students at MIT. He’d talked big and laughed loud and gone to party after
party. He’d found an incredible girl, Sunset, a beta who was a senior in
college, wickedly smart, and utterly perfect. She gave him some ribbon to tie
around his wrist the first time she stayed over for sex, and he remembered
being a bit disappointed it wasn’t a real bracelet, even if only a beaded one
or one of those cheap bangles you could buy at a gas station next to the lube
and condoms. He’d said as much, and her eyes had gotten so sad.
“I’m sorry, Tony,” she had whispered, sitting next to him on the couch. “I
don’t have a lot of money. I’m on an allowance, here, so I can’t buy you really
high quality stuff, and this was all I had that I could do. But I can save up,
get on the subway and find a store maybe.” With that, she had stood up, making
motions to put on her coat and leave the house, and, well, they’d been kissing
and petting heavily and Tony was so close to coming and she tried, she really
had, hadn’t she? He had a ribbon on, didn’t he? Who cared that it wasn’t a
proper bangle or bracelet or even a nose stud? So he’d said the ribbon was
enough for him, he loved her, he didn’t want her to leave, please, Sunset,
please stay, the ribbon was perfect.
He’d lost his virginity on that couch, Sunset laughing at his young body and
his inexperience, and teaching him how to eat her out since even a teen
refractory period wasn’t quick enough to satisfy her.
She’d never brought him anything else, though – sometimes she’d come in with
more pieces of ribbon, sometimes string, sometimes cheap glass beads strung on
rough cord, but more often she brought alcohol and gave him mind-blowing
orgasms, and he knew that he was rich and came from a rich background, so his
concept of money was skewed. He couldn’t expect her to have enough money to
give him real jewelry, not yet, not until she had a job and had graduated
college, right?
Of course, when he’d gone to her graduation, cheering for her degree in
chemical-biological engineering, he’d gone down from the stands to congratulate
her and watched as a dark-haired omega launched herself into Sunset’s arms. The
omega was decked out in elaborate earrings and bangles, each step tinkling from
all the anklets Tony could see even though this was a December graduation and
it was too cold for any omega to wear clothes that revealed the extent of their
jewelry, and Sunset kissed the omega deeply.
Tony had turned around and walked the other way. And when Sunset had come by
his apartment later, and he turned her away, she hadn’t asked why, or tried to
give an explanation – simply left, and then proceeded to not contact him. The
ease with which she dropped him had hurt the most, honestly.
He wasn’t very proud of that winter break, which he spent mostly drunk and in
and out of someone’s bed. It was that winter break that earned him the
reputation of a slut, of a promiscuous omega who could be put off with promises
of future jewelry and would give out sex anyway. None of this future jewelry
ever materialized, and the press had a field day with the fact that he wore no
jewelry – not a stud in his ear, or in his nose, not a single bracelet or
bangle on his arm, not a chain hanging from his belt, not a single anklet
around his ankle. Nothing. Speculation ran rampant for why that was – that he
had so many lovers gifting him jewelry he didn’t want to spurn one over
another, that he was too arrogant to wear anything that was below his
standards, that he wouldn’t wear anything that could imply he was with a
particular alpha or beta and thus limit his chances of being in as many beds as
possible, that his father refused to allow him to wear jewelry since Tony would
eventually marry for the good of the company, that Tony was soiled goods and
took pleasure shaming his partner by not wearing anything of theirs.
In Tony’s last semester at MIT, he had fallen into a relationship with
Tiberius, Ty, beautiful Ty who had gifted Tony with an elaborate necklace and
barefoot sandal set. Tony had worn it every day, only ever taking it off to
shower, and if it discolored his skin some, well, he wasn’t expecting pure
metal, this was the first metal jewelry he ever had, and he loved it. He got
other things, too – a beautiful silk choker, a string of glass beads, trinkets
that were much less than the set but Tony wore faithfully whenever he was home
and Ty was around.
Then, during finals week, partying with Rhodey and Rhodey’s ROTC buddies,
cameras flashed and his face was splashed all over tabloids again, draped
against Rhodey’s side with Rhodey’s arm curled protectively around his
shoulder. It had looked intimate, with Tony’s head nestled in the junction of
Rhodey’s shoulder and neck, and it had looked bad that Tony was very visibly
and openly dating alpha Tiberius Stone and yet Ty hadn’t been anywhere near the
party, and it had looked as if Rhodey’s hand was under Tony’s waistband, but in
truth it had been nothing more than Tony, drunk and stressed, curling up
against his closest friend and Rhodey keeping Tony upright by tucking Tony’s
head under his chin and holding Tony up by a belt loop.
Ty had, the day before Tony’s graduation, ripped the necklace off of Tony’s
throat and made it clear he’d taken a chance with the ‘whore of MIT’ because
Tony was the heir to one of the largest tech companies and well, now Ty knew
better. People never changed, and Tony didn’t deserve Ty’s jewelry, and Tony
really didn’t deserve any jewelry, Ty had only given it to Tony because it was
expected, what would people think if he hadn’thad given Tony anything, and Ty
could have saved himself the money and just bought beads but no, Ty had
actually bought a set, and this was how Tony repaid him. At least Ty had had
the forethought to buy cheap street jewelry, and really Tony hadn’t even been
worth those few bucks, and Tony better go bring the rest of the set and hand it
over because they were through.
Which was how Tony had both gained and lost the only pieces of jewelry he’d
been given in his life that was directly related to sex (after all, Rhodey
would sometimes come home from his military tours with tiny trinkets like
bangles or charm bracelets and Tony carefully polished and preserved all eight
of those pieces). He’d slept around, partied, gone into SI for his R&D job
hung-over and markedly naked of any type of jewelry, and the other scientists
had sneered at him and Howard had yelled at Tony in the huge office, shouting
about the disgrace Tony was to the Stark name, how cheaply he sold himself,
Howard wouldn’t have any son of his whoring on the streets. Tony had shouted
back one day, snapped that at least he was getting something more pleasurable
out of his whoring than Howard could ever hope to get from his military
contracts, did you think I wouldn’t notice, dad, you’re selling yourself just
like me only you’re doing it for cash and I’m doing it for sex and so what,
we’re both whores, aren’t you proud, dad?
Maria, who’d been quietly sympathetic and only somewhat distant before then,
had become absolutely unapproachable, and Howard had not spoken to Tony for
months. And then they died, and Tony moved on with his life, wearing nothing
but the clothes he bought himself and the shades that hid his eyes from the
world. So while rumors certainly circulated about his collection, how extensive
it must be, how he must look dripping with gold and precious gems during his
heat when his lover wanted him to dress up, Tony never did anything to put
those rumors to rest. He never explained that the chest he had bought himself
going into college, sleek and smooth and inlaid with mirrors, was empty save
for the gifts Rhodey gave him from his travels, a few beads from the necklace
Ty had torn from his throat and Tony had found on the kitchen floor after Ty
had left, and that first ribbon Sunset had gifted him. He’d debated keeping the
other small things he’d gotten over the years, but in the end, none of them
meant anything to the people who gave them to him, and he firmly told himself
he shouldn’t be sentimental over those kinds of things in the first place. He
kept Rhodey’s trinkets because, even if Rhodey was straight and wouldn’t think
of him romantically, he would think of him platonically, and he kept the other
two pieces as a reminder about what he was and what others thought of him. The
only other pieces in his chest were a small, understated necklace and four or
five pieces Pepper had given him – one of each of the heats she had helped him
through. She was the only one who gave him something for his heats; Rhodey
would help see Tony through Tony’s heats, but he never did anything
specifically for them. In fact, if it wasn’t for Rhodey and Pepper, he’d have
no pieces of jewelry at all.
Now, sitting in his room, staring at his chest, Tony had to admit he’d been
overly optimistic at fourteen when he’d bought the mirrored box. It hadn’t been
very large, not like an armoire or trunk, but it was definitely noticeable, and
he’d naively thought he’d have to buy another by his second semester. Instead,
it had languished under the bed in his college apartment and now it sat on the
back of his closet. He’d come to his room from the shared living room, where he
had been watching Bruce toy with his earring as he and Steve discussed what
Steve could do with the few earrings and piercings he had that he could no
longer use since the supersoldier serum had healed up all of his holes. Steve
had been mournful, because Bucky had given him a set of red stone earrings and
he didn’t want to give them up, and Bruce had fiddled with his own earring
before talking about a jeweler who could take them and incorporate them into a
different piece – how Bruce had accidentally broke a favorite necklace and had
the remnants of it reworked into an anklet.
Tony had been unwilling to listen to them discuss, and so had come up to his
room for a quick shower, but in stripping off his clothes and dumping them into
his closet, he had caught sight of the mirrored edge of his chest.
And now here he sat, like a maudlin teenager, staring at the dulled metal and
mirrors that made up the chest, edges caked with dust and grime from oil and
grease. He knew what he’d see if he opened it, so in the end he didn’t; simply
kicked his clothes on top of it and turned to shower.
                                      ***
That night, sitting on the couches as they made their way through X-Files,
Steve bracketed by Thor and Clint, Bruce sitting cross-legged on the floor,
head resting against Clint’s knee, Tony ensconced in an armchair, barefoot with
sweats and a tank on and his StarkTab in his lap, half paying attention to the
episode marathon (was it a marathon when it was only three episodes a night,
four if everyone was in the mood? Whatever—), when Natasha perched on the arm
of his chair. Tony quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Steve just finished his heat,” she murmured quietly, and now that Tony thought
about it, he did remember the scent of it wafting through the tower over the
past few days. He didn’t know what that had to do with him, though, and so he
cocked his head at her and didn’t say anything at all.
“Pepper’s in Europe right now,” she said, and for a minute it looked like she
was – hesitant, uncertain. It was odd enough that Tony did more than just nod
his agreement.
“She is,” he said slowly, brow furrowing. “But I knew that.”
“Doesn’t she normally see you through your heats?”
Ah, Tony understood why Natasha was asking, now. Even after the team had begun
to form their pack, Pepper and Rhodey would normally make time to be at the
tower for Tony’s heats; they few that they hadn’t, he hadn’t told the rest of
the team, just dealt with the heat on his own. He hefted a shoulder and said
casually, “Not usually, not when we’re not together – she does it as a favor to
a friend, really. My heat’s not for another—”
“—day,” Natasha finished for him.
Tony squinted at her, checked the date on his tablet, and sighed. This was why
he didn’t often enjoy being around other omegas – sure, they were a lot more
comforting and calming than alphas or betas, but then everyone’s heat always
synched up and Tony was just fine with his irregular, light heats instead of
being forced into a monthly cycle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he muttered.
“Shit.”
“Did you want her to be present for your heat?”
Tony heard the subtle emphasis, and guessed at why Natasha was bringing it up.
It was the first time any of the Avengers had offered to see him through his
heat, and to be honest Tony certainly had had more than one fantasy about every
single one of his teammates, specifically in the context of having his heat
taken care of by them. It wasn’t difficult for him to smirk and lean back in
his chair. “I handle them just fine on my own when she’s out of the country and
Rhodey can’t get to me – I’ve seen myself through more heats than anyone’s ever
helped with. But if you’re offering…”
She smiled quietly. “I am,” she murmured, and then placed a small box, about
half the length of his tablet and no more than an inch or two tall, on the arm
of the chair.
He stared at the box in confusion, not sure what it was, but Natasha was
continuing before he could say anything more.
“We agreed that I would offer first, but both Clint and Thor, as well as Bruce
and Steve, are more than interested in helping you throughout your heat should
you want someone else as well as me. When I worked for you as Natalie, your
heats were rarely more than two or three days – have they stabilized out to
more than that?”
“Huh?” Tony asked distractedly, still bewilderedly eyeing the box. “Ah, no, not
really. Um. Three days, I think was the last, with a day before and after as
pre- and post-heat symptoms.”
Natasha nodded and got up from the arm of the chair, letting her fingertips
trail across the arch of Tony’s foot that was nearest to her. “Thank you. Let
me know if you want the others around you during your heat.”
She moved off, back into the kitchen, and Tony pretended not to notice that the
rest of the occupants of the room were pretending-not-to-notice the exchange
between him and Natasha. Instead, he clicked the StarkTab off and picked up the
box.
It couldn’t be… could it?
Making up his mind, he shifted and got up, fingers clutched tight around the
box as he made his way quickly (but not too quickly) back to his bedroom. Once
there, he closed the door and locked it, dumped his tablet onto the bed, and
then sat down on the bed and opened up the box.
It was a jewelry box, holding loops of slender, fine chains. It took him a
moment to find the correct fastening and he realized it was an elaborate
necklace with multiple chains, with small chips of blue and red stones set in
gold links. Almost before he could think about it, he fastened the necklace
around his throat and stood up to look at himself in the mirror in his
bathroom.
The necklace had at least twenty chains of varying lengths. The shortest of the
lengths lay tight against his neck; the longest of the lengths hung low and
clicked against the bottom of his arc reactor. He stared at the shimmering gold
and red and blue, and felt a weird twisting feeling in his gut. Realizing that
he was stroking the chains, letting them run over his fingers and the back of
his hand, he carefully and deliberately unfastened the necklace and coiled it
back into its box. Should he wear it? His heat wasn’t until the day after
tomorrow – well, it began tomorrow, technically, if you counted the fact that
Tony was one of those unfortunate omegas who had a pseudo-heat a day before and
a day after the actual heat, in which he wasn’t irrationally focused on sex to
the exclusion of all else but his skin itched and nervous energy vibrated
throughout his body. He could wear the necklace for the beginning, during his
pre-heat, under his shirt. It would be cool, and the chains would slide against
his throat and upper chest and remind him that someone thought he –he –
deserved a piece of jewelry.
Before he could change his mind, he took it back out of the box and clipped it
around his neck. Right now, he was going to head down to his workshop and
hammer out these uncomfortable feelings by upgrading the shielding on his
latest armor variation. He’d worry about whether he’d wear it during his heat
later.
                                      ***
“Sir.”
Tony was jerked away from his thought process. “Yes! JARVIS, yes?”
“Ms. Romanoff is awaiting approval to enter your workshop, sir.”
“Shit,” Tony muttered, eyes jerking over to the clock Pepper had placed in his
workshop the last time Tony had been late to a board meeting that she and he
had both known was vitally important to SI’s stock and new research direction,
and the reason for his lateness was not calculated or Avenger-related but in
fact because he got caught up in his workshop. The glaring red numbers blinked
an accusatory 13:47 at him and he realized that Rhodey must have fiddled with
the settings – he did that periodically – and that he’d worked throughout
yesterday and into the morning. Now that he wasn’t focused on the engineering
problem in front of him, he was dimly aware of a low ache in his gut, that itch
under his skin that signaled the start of a heat. It also explained why, even
though he hadn’t had any coffee or food since yesterday evening before Natasha
had handed him that box, his stomach wasn’t growling or complaining – his
metabolism was slowing down in preparation for his heat.
“Sir?”
“Let her in, JARVIS,” he said, pushing away from the table and standing up,
shifting awkwardly. He felt – out of place. Nervous. He also felt like he could
run a marathon what with the energy coiling beneath his skin, but that was
beside the point right now.
Natasha walked in through the open doors and carefully set against the nearest
flat surface a mug. “Cocoa,” she murmured. “If you’re thirsty.”
He wasn’t really, but he was flattered she remembered his weakness for
chocolate. “Thank you,” he said, and came to a stop.
After a few moments, she sighed and shifted, enough so that he realized she was
nervous as well. “I offered because I thought you were open to forming a bonded
pack with us, but I realize that it was probably a high-handed assumption, to
think you’d be comfortable with one of us seeing you through your heat,
especially since, even while we were forming our pack, you still used Rhodes or
Pepper or no one at all to see you through them.”
“Ah—” Tony cleared his throat and lifted one shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t – I’m
not offended. I would, um. Be pleased, if it was you. And the others, too,
though… just you, at the start of it and the end of it.” Not that it was
impossible for a single alpha or beta to handle an omega through their heat,
but he really would prefer to have all of them, if they wanted to come.
Besides, he knew he exhausted Rhodey and Pepper when it was just them – omegas
had unending sex drives and their genitals grew desensitized, to a point, but
the alpha and beta partners of omegas just grew… over-sensitized. Sex became
painful without some type of aids.
(Pepper had used a certain box she brought with her, and Rhodey had always used
the toys Tony himself used when neither Rhodey nor Pepper were around, because
he said they smelled like Tony and he preferred them.)
It took Natasha a moment before she realized he had basically agreed without
outright agreeing, and her smile lit up her face and she looked pleased. “Well,
then,” she said softly. “I’ll make sure the first six to eight hours are with
me, and that the last eight to ten hours are just with me, if your heat only
lasts about two or three days. Does that sound all right to you?”
Tony nodded, moving back to his work table. An itch was settling under his
skin, one he’d been ignoring for a while now, and he needed to do something
with his hands while he still could. He knew what he was like in the middle of
his heat, desperate and clingy and mind still moving faster than he could
really process – some of his best inventions and brainstorms had come from his
heats – but generally speaking, only Rhodey and Pepper had ever been alright
with letting him wander out of the bedroom and down to the workshop for the
brief time needed to write down the idea. Then they were taking him up to the
bedroom, where they took care of his needs. Well, Rhodey sometimes stayed down
here with Tony, but eventually they did make their way to the bedroom. He’d
rather get this design done now, before his heat started and interrupted the
thought process as he remained in his bedroom until his heat was over.
“Would you prefer to stay down here?”
The question jarred Tony out of the numbers that had started flowing back into
his mind, and he stopped and blinked at Natasha. “What?” he asked.
“For your heat,” she said, indicating the small bed he had in the back of his
workshop. “We can stay here, if you prefer to be here.”
Tony looked at her askance. “I thought that – why? Would you want to stay down
here?”
Natasha considered the bed for a long moment. “It’d be easier not to,” she
finally said. “Your bathroom upstairs would probably more comfortable to use,
and the bed is probably bigger, but I know a few omegas who nest like you
before your heats, and sometimes you prefer to stay where you began to make
your nest.”
Tony flushed. ‘Nesting’ was when an omega began to imprint on a place that gave
them comfort – all omegas did it, to a degree, with their homes or the homes of
their loved ones – but a few of them, for no biological reason scientists could
discern, nested directly before their heat, and preferred to have their heat
where they nested. They often gathered blankets and food, necessary items,
sometimes bringing in items not so necessary but items the omega felt they’d
need through the heat (even if those items never got used). Tony had never
nested traditionally, though he’d known that he ‘nested,’ in the sense that he
wouldn’t exhibit the traditional actions but more unconventional ones – he
would be more attentive to his ‘bots, he’d spend more time in his workshop than
normal, he’d be more… cuddly.
Correctly interpreting his flush, Natasha dropped her gaze to give him privacy
and said off-handedly, “If you’d prefer to stay down here – a strange beta
seeing you through your heat would already make you nervous. Letting the beta
into your space is probably harder.”
“Natasha, don’t insult my commitment here. You’re not a strange beta by now,”
Tony said immediately. “It’s just – I might prefer to stay down here, one day,
but if Thor and Clint are going to come in – if more than just you is going to
be here for my heat – I don’t think that bed would be big enough.”
“Ah,” she said. “Well, then. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay with you until
you’re ready to retire to your bedroom.”
Tony hesitated again. It wasn’t that they weren’t moving to having one of those
big packs that friends slowly grew into if they were compatible, but even with
their growing familiarity and acceptance of the pack formation, Bruce and Steve
were the only ones really comfortable down here. Steve would sketch by the big
windows set at the side of the workshop or help Tony with the cars, and Bruce
would tease the ‘bots and work on the delicate systems Tony used. Thor would
come down every so often, but it was more likely that Clint would come down,
and when Clint came down it was usually to field test different types of arrows
Tony would make for Clint. Natasha rarely came down, and when she did it was
normally to see if Tony wanted to join in on a group outing of some kind. Then
again, some alphas felt obligated to be more to Tony than just an alpha when it
came to Tony’s heat.
…But Natasha was a beta, and Tony had never had a beta act that way before. Oh,
there were dates Tony had at charity balls that turned into one-night stands,
and a few relationships that were more serious than that. Tony had always had
Rhodey or Pepper to see him through his heats, and when he hadn’t had them,
he’d had his partner at the time or toys. The people seeing him through his
heats had always showed up when his heat started. Rhodey and Pepper had
indulged his need to cling, had allowed him to break for as long as he wanted,
had been kind and considerate and fulfilling. His other alphas or betas had
been less so; most of them were pretty good with him, but a few had been
downright rude and inconsiderate. (Those alphas or betas had always been dumped
once his heat had been over.) But, to get back to the point and he really
didn’t like how his brain was already wandering at this early stage, none of
them had hung around in the time leading up to his heat just to watch him in
his workshop. This time was more like – extended foreplay, for most of them, or
Rhodey and Pepper making sure that he had everything in order.
“Sure,” he finally said. “If you want.”
For about two more hours, Natasha did nothing more than sit quietly with Dum-
E and the fabrication robots, talking softly as she applied oil at their
joints. He kept glancing over at them, realizing he was acting like a mother
hen but unable to stop the impulse. Still, once it hit that two hour mark, he
was sunk into his work, muttering absent commands to JARVIS as he manipulated
the piece of machinery in front of him. Their sales were doing well with the
clean-energy reactors, on the small scale, but those were very expensive and
came with a lot of rewiring and rerouting. He was trying to find a more cost-
effective way to do the basic thing, even if it wouldn’t be as self-sufficient
as a true arc reactor.
Soft fingers brushed against the back of his neck in a familiar gesture – most
omegas liked to be petted there, and Tony was particularly sensitive in that
area. Tony hummed a little under his breath, preening a bit, and then those
fingers caught against the chain he still had around his neck and paused.
The cessation of sensation caused Tony to break from his schematics and designs
to turn around and look at Natasha, who was staring at his neck. “You – okay?”
he asked quietly. He’d had some alphas give him jewelry before, and when he
went to put it on and walk in public with it, they’d asked him not to do so,
that they didn’t want him with their mark in public.
(He’d given all those pieces back, saying that if they wanted to keep it casual
all they had needed to do was say, he didn’t need their guilt-jewelry.)
“You’re wearing it,” she murmured, curling her fingers underneath the chain.
Tony stilled – he’d thought she’d given it to him to wear, but maybe she only
wanted him to wear it during his heat, when she was with him? Maybe this was
just… something she wanted for herself?
She seemed to sense the change in his mood – or, at least, sensed his
stillness, because her eyes flickered over to his and he saw heat and pride and
awe in her gaze. “May I see it on you? Out of your shirt?”
Tony breathed easier (Ty had done that, had dug fingers under the chain and
yanked it off Tony’s neck) and let a small smile curl at his lips. “Sure. I
didn’t want it to get ruined by oil or – stuff, down here,” he said, hoping she
wasn’t angry he had decided to hide it under his shirt. It was supposed to be
something private, for him, while he decided whether he should wear it during
his heat or not, but if she liked it on him, if she wanted him to proudly wear
it…
She purred under her breath, running her hands down his chest, framing the
multiple chains and stones. “It looks perfect on you,” she said approvingly.
“Thank you for wearing it.”
“Of course I would?” he said, confused. “I mean, you didn’t tell me not to wear
it.”
She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips that turned more heated,
more involved, until he was moaning into her mouth and pressing against her
palms to lean up into her. “Tony,” she said with quiet amusement against his
lips, “if an alpha gives you jewelry, they wouldn’t tell you not to wear it.”
“Eh,” he murmured hazily into her mouth. “I’ve had a few.”
She curled her fingers in the short hair at the base of his neck, scratching
nails against the sensitive skin there. “Well, they didn’t deserve you,
obviously.”
“Obviously,” he breathed, and glanced at his schematics. He’d been running into
a wall in the power output stabilization, and he didn’t foresee figuring it out
within the few hours he had before his heat really started. “You wanna head up
to the bedroom?”
“If you’re ready,” she said, and he stood up, wrapping an arm around her waist
to heft her. She laughed under her breath and rocked against his groin – and he
nearly dropped her. Gently pushing down from his arms, she ran hands
possessively down his flanks, and he could almost physically feel the weight of
his heat pheromones increase in the air. “I think I should walk,” she teased.
“Otherwise we’ll never reach the bedroom.”
                                      ***
They didn’t meet anyone walking up to his room, though that was more a function
of the fact that no one was in the hall of his workshop and the elevator had
taken him straight to his personal penthouse floor instead of making its usual
stop at the common room so that the Avengers could take their personal
elevators or stairs to their shared floors. Tony had kept some perks, being the
owner of the building and all.
The elevator opened into his living room, and she tugged at his shirt. “Take
off your clothes, as much as you’re comfortable with for now,” she instructed.
“Then, clean up as you need to in your bathroom; I’m going to head down to my
room and get a few supplies. Will you need to get anything?”
“I’m generally fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. His heat was
starting a bit earlier than normal – it mostly came closer to evening than
this. All ready he could recognize the swampy, logy feeling of his brain
starting to slow down metabolism so he wouldn’t need more than liquids
throughout his heat.
“Well, I’ll bring up some liquids, some blankets. No one here except you and I
for the first six hours and the last eight, correct?”
“I’d prefer not,” he stated firmly. All omegas grew irrational and overly
touchy at the end of their heat, and quite a few preferred to not have a
multitude of alphas around them at that time, only their closest alpha. Tony
did not enjoy having people seeing him in that state, even if they were growing
closer to one another. Additionally, he knew objectively that no one looked
down on omegas for that first desperate rush of slick and pheromones, no one
looked down on omegas for that first desperate urge that started off their
heat, but he always felt highly self-conscious of his begging and whining and
neediness, and so he much rather preferred not having a lot of witnesses of
that first few hours. Part of that was also because he’d never really had more
than one alpha at a time who would help him through his heat – Pepper and
Rhodey would trade off, and if they were ever both around Tony during his heat,
he never knew about it. He had had a few other relationships, and all of them
had been highly possessive and jealous of Tony when Tony was in heat, never
letting him leave the bedroom and certainly never inviting other alphas or
betas in. This would be Tony’s first heat that was with his new pack, and the
first heat that would have more than one alpha on call. It made it easier for
the alphas or betas, having others to call on, because once the middle stage of
the heat hit omegas needed to be fucked and fucked hard, until they lost
consciousness. Sometimes that was a big task for just one alpha.
“All right,” Natasha said easily. “I’ll let the others know. Anyone in
particular you’d prefer, or prefer not around?”
Tony shook his head, feeling sweat start to trickle down his spine. “No. I
mean, if they wanna come in, they can. If they don’t, they don’t.”
She nodded, and stepped forward to give him a deep kiss that seemed to heat his
skin just that much more. Then she moved back to the elevator and he watched
the doors close.
Taking in a deep breath, he turned to the bedroom and attached bathroom. To
have a heat, and to have a period of days in which the body only wanted to fuck
as many times as possible, meant that certain functions of the body needed to
stop – namely, ejecting solid waste (shitting) and eating solid food. The body
could dehydrate if the alpha or beta didn’t regularly remind or supervise the
omega to make sure the omega drank, which was part of the reason why it was
dangerous to go through heat alone. That also meant that before the heat really
started, the omega’s body dumped pretty much every bit of solid waste possible
out, which could equal to anything between minutes or hours on the toilet.
Thankfully, Tony himself was a light eater in general, and he always ate less
coming up on a heat in any case. It only took him around ten minutes in the
bathroom to finish up, and his hands were beginning to shake with the initial
dump of hormones flooding his body. He took a steadying breath and removed all
of his clothes, baring the chains of the necklace to the soft light in his
bathroom. He had little body shame, and he’d already gotten intimate alone,
without a larger group, with Natasha – as Natalie – once. It wasn’t that that
had him needing reassurance or steadying. It was the fact that this pack
relationship had only recently opened up to him and he was still trying to find
his place in it. He had dealt with his heats with Pepper or Rhodey’s help, or
on his own. Ever since Afghanistan, in fact, he didn’t even call a professional
service to help him, mostly because Afghanistan, and the reactor, screwed
something up with his biology. His heats were no longer intense enough to shut
off his brain more than fifty percent of the time (to be fair, his heats had
never, in his entire sexual history, shut off his brain more than seventy-five
percent of the time) which meant more time to be aware of his desperate need
and dislike the mewling mess his heat made of him. His heats also didn’t
produce as much natural lubricant as it should have, which required chemical
lubricant, something some alphas and betas had a problem with since it had an
obvious non-natural smell. Additionally, an omega making little to no lubricant
normally meant the omega didn’t want to be fucked by that particular alpha or
beta, and while some alphas and betas liked feeling like they were forcing the
omega to accept them, the majority would balk or have severe misgivings because
of Tony’s damaged reproductive system.
And his heats made him clingy and needy and self-conscious, and since this was
his first heat with his team and he desperately wanted to make a good
impression, clingy and needy and self-conscious was detrimental to that desire.
Still, he exited the bathroom to find that Natasha was there, in a sports bra
and a pair of boy-shorts. She wasn’t on his bed – it was seen as a gross
invasion for an alpha or beta to invade an omega’s private space like that
without an explicit invitation – but she was patting the tops of the blankets
she had set at the foot of his bed, as if out of things to do to occupy her
time. When she turned to look at him, he watched her eyes travel over his body,
the aging frame showing slight sags here and there (his stomach not as defined
as Steve’s or Bruce’s, for a single example), scars marring his upper chest as
well as his hands and forearms. They’d had sex before, yeah, he’d been invited
to join their pack bonding in that as well as in other ways, and generally
speaking he was not normally this aware of his body’s flaws. Now, as an aging
omega who felt the creaks of the cold in his joints and who knew he was older
than Steve and Bruce both, certainly older than everyone in their group save
Thor, and with his heat pressing on him to make himself desirable and
attractive to his alpha or beta, to please his alpha or beta… now, he noticed
these imperfections.
She reached into the stack of blankets and pulled out a box. It was such an
unexpected gesture that it knocked him out of his thoughts on his body, and he
stared in confusion at the offering.
“For you,” she said, and her voice sounded too understanding, too soft, so he
took it quickly and opened it up.
Inside were beautiful finger sheaths, clearly meant for the middle and ring
fingers on both the left and right hands. They were white gold, with small
green chips set in the center of their base, and looked like they had been
woven together.
“This is… too much,” he said, and to his embarrassment his voice cracked a bit.
Natasha stepped up close to him, and she was shorter than him but he felt like
curling against her, pressing mouth and nose to the hollow of her throat and
breathing her in. “It’s not enough,” she said quietly. “I want you to have
them. If you want them.”
Reflexively, he clutched the box tight in his arms, unwilling to give them up,
and Natasha’s eyes went warm and possessive as she reached out and gently slid
her hand around the back of Tony’s neck. With something like a sigh, Tony
dropped his head low and purred deep in his chest.
“May I put them on you?” Natasha asked quietly.
Tony nodded silently, and she slid the pieces of jewelry over his middle and
ring fingers, sure and strong and confident, and then she cupped his chin and
kissed him, deep and thorough. When they broke apart, she gestured to the
blankets. “If you need.”
A smile curled over Tony’s mouth and he moved to his obscenely large bed,
pulling out the trunks beneath his bed that held the pillows and blankets he
used during his heat to ground him no matter where he was in the world, or what
bed he was using. Over his shoulder, Natasha watched curiously as he pulled out
body pillows and plush, fuzzy pillows, garish colors and sedate unicolor
pillows, thick comforters and thin sheets, soft blankets and multicolored
quilts. With practiced, efficient motions, he built a small fort of pillows in
the middle of the bed, not so much round as rectangular with rounded edges, and
then – because he knew alphas and betas didn’t really like to have their gifts
or supplies snubbed by omegas – he reached for one of her blankets.
“No, Tony, don’t worry about it,” she said, and her voice was both amused and
awed. “I didn’t realize you had these supplies here. The blankets I brought are
unnecessary – I’d rather you be comfortable in the scents you pick.”
And the blankets he was using had been washed, of course, most of the scents of
his previous alphas and betas gone from the sheets (minus Rhodey and Pepper,
but that’s because they were often around for his heat), certainly the sexual
fluids long-gone from the bedding material, but he handled them, they lived in
his room and underneath where he slept, so they smelled like him, like warmth
and safety and comfort, so he laid back, arching his back and rocking his hips
a little, assured in his ability to nest and therefore more assured in himself
as an omega.
Her eyes heated into something a lot stronger than possessive protection. “Are
you inviting me to your bed?” she asked in a low voice.
“I am,” he breathed out, gripping the padded areas by his head, feeling his
fingers flex in the metal and the chains slide across his chest and against the
arc reactor.
With something akin to hunger, she slipped into the center of the blankets, her
gaze trailing over his body appreciatively, and he could feel those first
sparks of lust spike through his system, his body sluggishly trying to begin
the hormone process that would initiate the heat. It always took his body a
while, and sometimes it irritated him that he couldn’t speed it up, that he
felt each agonizing spike of hormones instead of the smooth swell of heat of
his youth, but right now it felt – right. Raw and jagged and matching the
newness of this relationship, marking the beginning of something bigger.
“I love the look of my gifts on you,” she murmured, almost absently, and she
straddled his waist, letting her fingers tangle in the chains and drag the
warmed metal over his upper chest and collarbones. Tentatively, he raised his
hands, and was rewarded by a deep purr as Natasha moved his hands to her hips,
curving his fingers around her waist. He stroked, slow at first, and then
exploring, feeling the scars that dotted her body, the weight of her breasts
and the hard points of her nipples.
“Perfect, Tony,” she sighed, slowly rocking against his abdomen, her alpha
hormones speeding up the heat process just a bit. “Gorgeous. So perfect for me”
– and the words would normally be patronizing, he’d take issue with them, but
it was the beginning of his heat and he was lost in the mindless feel of it,
falling silent with the intensity and intimacy, reduced to nothing more but
gasps and groans as he grew hard and he felt his hole moisten.
Her lips slotted over his, and he let out a hitching whine, grasping at her
shoulders and hips bucking up. She grinned against his lips and ran a teasing
finger down to one nipple, stroking, and while his nipples weren’t sensitive it
was as if she was mimicking drawing a line over other, more erotic areas.
Panting, he squeezed at her breasts and she made a displeased sound.
Instantly, he let go, hands falling away, but she caught one and held it tight.
“You’re fine, Tony,” she said firmly. “Just not so hard. Gentle. Here.” She
placed his hand on her belly and he made a conscious effort to keep his touch
light – which required a lot more brainpower than it should. Vaguely aware that
time was slipping by faster than he could keep track of it, he leaned up to lap
at her nipples, ran fingers down her back to stroke and caress, dipped fingers
into her folds – which was when she pushed his hand away. He let it go with
minimal protest, focused on the scent of her that grew heavy in the air, the
way his erection stayed strong and arousal burned throughout his body. He
wasn’t tracking all that much anymore, just aware of sensation, of time passing
as she stroked and nibbled and teased until he was begging, fisting the sheets,
sweat plastering his hair against his throat. It was only then, only when he
was most desperate and gasping for it, pleading in broken keens and whimpers,
that she slid down his body and lined up his erection with her cunt.
When she slid down, it was as if his heat kicked on, truly started, right then.
He exploded, reaching up to grab at her, gasping and pleading, mindless in his
desire to come, to have her swell around him and hold him beneath her. Almost
too-carefully, she tucked her feet over his thighs and grabbed his hands and
forced him down and stretched out beneath her, holding him down, pinning him as
she rode him. The fog clouding his mind made it impossible for him to realize
what he was begging for, what he wanted, but she always responded soothingly,
letting her nose rub against his cheek or the top of his head, letting him bury
his nose in the hollow of her throat to settle himself.
He came back to himself in bits and pieces, aware of the cool air blowing
against his skin, the warmth radiating from above him. Then he became aware of
the sensation of touch – Natasha against his front, her fingers sweeping up and
down his side, her other hand lightly stroking his scalp. Pressure was next –
the weight of her holding him down, her small swell tight against the base of
his dick, holding him in, milking him, the give of the mattress beneath him,
the mess of sheets around their body that smelled of sweat and sex and heat.
“There you are,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he couldn’t
help the small preening motion, the stretch and purr deep in his chest. “Better
now?”
Already he could feel the need start to rebuild, regardless of the fact that
her swell had yet to loosen enough to let him rock in and out of her. Now,
though, with the first flush of the heat gone and moved out of his system, he
could move a little slower, be a little more sophisticated than someone who did
a poke-and-hump for about eight seconds.
(He hated the beginnings of his heats. Absolutely hated. Rhodey had understood,
but then again, Rhodey was Rhodey. It had taken him ages before he’d allow
Pepper to stay with him throughout a whole heat.)
She stroked down his chest and laughed low in her throat, a throaty noise that
had his attention drawn away from his senses to her and her attitude. She was
looking at him fondly, warmly, and it felt… good. It wasn’t as if it was the
first time someone had looked at him like that, but it was more than he could
have hoped for from his team, more than he had hoped to inspire from her. He
lifted his hands to her hips, reveling in the drag of metal against her skin,
sticking with sweat against his own. She hummed, her fingers tangling in the
chains around his throat, and then lifted her head up to meet his eyes. Her
hair was tousled, falling over her bare shoulders, and for a minute he fixated
on that, on the strands that brushed her skin, tickled over her collarbone.
“Tony,” she said, and he dragged his gaze away from her hair to blink up at
her, dazed, and she kissed the tip of his nose. “There you are. Feels like
you’re getting ready to go again.”
It took him a moment, and then he licked his lips. “I, ah, I’m not as young as
Steve—”
“No one’s comparing you to Steve or Bruce, Tony. They don’t matter right now.”
Her instant and immediate response could either mean that she didn’t think he
was comparable to Bruce and Steve or that he shouldn’t bring them up right now.
He wasn’t certain which one it was, but with her body loose and flowing over
his, her hair curtaining around the two of them, and her swell still firmly
holding him inside her, he didn’t care too much right now. Instead, he rocked
his hips a bit, felt the tight pinch of the swell inside her vagina give just a
bit to let him shift inside her. She let out a rough laugh, and framed his head
with her hands as she tugged his face down for a kiss.
“How are you on being on top?” she asked.
It took him a moment, pulling his thoughts out of drugged pleasure to respond
to her words. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and squeezed her ass a
little. It was a legitimate question to ask – some omegas needed to feel as if
the alpha (or beta) covered them, held them down, protected them. Finally, he
said softly, “Maybe more towards the middle of my heat, but not at the end. Not
– not right now.”
“Very coherent,” she observed.
Tony shrugged, his smile self-deprecating. He knew he’d pissed off other alphas
and betas before because he wasn’t ‘normal’ like other omegas; during his heat,
he wasn’t exclusively focused on the next orgasm, and could hold conversations
during his heat as if he wasn’t being ridden by that desperate need. He didn’t
match the stereotypical picture of an omega in heat and that disappointed a lot
of people.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Natasha hummed as she sat up on his hips,
grinding her hips against him again. “I simply was noticing. And I do – like
it. I feel bad, sometimes, that I can’t ask Steve or Bruce whether they’re okay
with something during their heat, and have to pray that I recognize their
warning signs if it is something they’re not okay with.”
Tony squirmed a hand between them, and Natasha hissed a bit at the touch of
cool metal catching against sensitive hairs in a very sensitive area. He
grinned wickedly and crooked his finger, and her hiss turned into a pleased
moan.
“You have very clever fingers,” she murmured, hips beginning to jerk against
his, and he was stiffening inside of her – it felt as if he’d never actually
gone soft – as her swell began to loosen even more, enough that he could drag a
bit out and push back in again. It wasn’t particularly comfortable for him, but
she loved it, riding him, her hands braced on his forearms as she ground down
against his fingers.
He grinned when he got her to come again from his fingers alone, and then
promptly lost the grin when she reached down past his balls and slid a single
finger in. He was an omega, so he lubricated, but he was glad it was just a
finger – he didn’t lubricate easily anymore and anything more than a finger
would be painful and disastrous.
Then she stimulated the ring of muscle that would normally be pressed against
an alpha’s knot, and he lost himself in the haze again.
                                      ***
He blearily opened his eyes and shivered. There was a line of warmth next to
his side, and soft stroking in his hair, and a low murmur that took a while for
him to recognize as human speech. After a bit of disorientation, the heat
gripped his body and he tugged, whining plaintively.
He was coherent enough to recognize her words now, at least, because it was
her, Natasha, next to him, and she reached down to grip the base of his dick
and simulate her swell, only more, more like an alpha’s swell than the slight
feel of a beta’s swell. “You wore me out, Tony,” she purred.
He didn’t know what those words meant for him, because he was horny and needed
to be ridden, in one way or another, but then the bed dipped down on his other
side and a thick line of heat pressed against his other side. His nose
recognized alpha and aroused and he let out a smug hum as he wiggled closer.
“So beautiful,” Natsha whispered next to him, and then Clint’s voice was
chuckling against his ear.
“She’s right, you know. She’s always right,” Clint said, and his voice was the
rough of the road, of an engine purring under Tony’s hands. When those
calloused, thick fingers pressed against Tony’s entrance, Tony tried to hump
back into them.
But the fingers didn’t press in farther. “He’s not wet enough, Nat. You sure
he’s okay with this?”
“He is,” she replied over him, petting his hair and cheek. He was trying to
form coherent words, trying to work past the fog of arousal that reduced him to
mindless, nonverbal communication, and it was these kinds of moments, moments
when he wanted to speak but was unable, coherent and able to understand what
was going around him, but not coherent enough to react appropriately, that he
absolutely hated the most about his heat. Oh, sure, everyone forgave him,
accepted that that was just a part of heat, he knew he shouldn’t be upset with
his biology, but that didn’t change the sheer amount of frustration it caused
him.
Clint was pressed close enough that Tony rubbed his nose against Clint’s chest
– Clint was naked, like Tony and Natasha – and he could feel the vibration of
Clint’s words when he said, “He’s not wet enough, Natasha, and that’s normally
a sign of displeasure in omegas with what’s happening.”
“He said he was fine with everyone coming, except for designated times,”
Natasha said, but there was doubt in her voice.
Finally, finally, he managed to get the words lined up in the right order, even
as he transferred his grip from Natasha’s hand to Clint’s. “I’m fine. It’s
fine. I make – less. Less wetness. After Af-Afghanistan.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Clint’s lips were pressed against
Tony’s, a light kiss that had Tony whining and arcing up when Clint pulled back
from Tony’s mouth. “Alright. If you’re sure.”
Tony nodded frantically, gesturing in the direction of the small nightstand. “I
have – lube.” He knew alphas and betas didn’t like the chemical smell, didn’t
like the idea that the omega wasn’t wet enough for them, but Pepper and Rhodey
had adjusted and insisted he keep lube around so that they wouldn’t hurt him,
and so he had a bunch of supplies that Clint could use.
Natasha patted Tony’s abdomen, petted his flank, as Clint rolled away and Tony
tried to reflexively grab at Clint to keep him there. “So good, Tony,” she
murmured, “So good that you can tell us this. Thank you.”
The soft and steady praise had him squirming, torn between preening under her
words and that he was good and burying his face under a pillow at his obvious
pleasure at being praised. Thankfully, Clint returned before one or the other
responses won out, and at the sound of the cap being popped open and the
artificial smell of the lube, Tony’s body went into overdrive. He knew what
that sound meant, and he was desperate for it now, body arching back, starting
to twist so that Clint could get up behind him, trying to present his body to
the alpha behind him.
“Shh, shh,” Clint murmured against Tony’s neck, letting his teeth scrape
against the sensitive skin at the base of Tony’s skull. “You’re good, it’s
good. Let’s try and get that need a bit lessened, hmm? Let’s get you off once
or twice. I’ve never known an omega to wear Natasha out so fast. You did well.”
Natasha pulled Tony’s head against her chest, pillowing his head on her breasts
and pressing the chains between Tony’s chest and her belly. Her fingers played
in the short hairs at the base of his skull, and Clint shifted further down,
one hand slipping to cup Tony’s erection, spreading the discharge – it wasn’t
exactly pre-cum, except it was, a continuous slick that kept male omega’s dicks
lubricated, but it carried no semen at all – and Clint’s other hand slid
between Tony’s ass, fingers covered with lube as he carefully worked a single
finger inside Tony’s ass.
Tony mouthed at Natasha’s breasts, gripped at Natasha’s hips, feeling the metal
bite into his fingers and press against his chest, and it made him feel –
special. Made it seem like this meant something, and even as Clint slowly
worked him open as he jacked Tony off, Tony gained more and more of his
awareness, more and more alertness. By the time he broke off of Natasha’s
breasts, his moans had transformed into something sharper and higher-pitched.
He was thankful for the strong hands that anchored him on his shoulders, the
broader hands that caged and reassured him on his lower body.
Finally, he came down from his high, fine trembles making his limbs coltish,
and two sets of hands eased him down against the bed.
“Damn, but you’ve got clever fingers,” Tony mumbled under his breath.
Clint laughed softly, his breath puffing against Tony’s ear, and Tony knew he
was running hot, could feel the sweat slicking the space between his body and
Clint’s and Natasha’s, but that didn’t change the fact that it didn’t seem to
register with his body, that his body craved closer contact, more warmth.
“You’re very coherent, for an omega. Steve couldn’t string together sentences
at all, and Bruce was more about short phrases.”
“I’m special,” Tony grunted.
Natasha laughed in his ear, low and pleased, and it didn’t seem cutting. “You
are,” she agreed, and those slender fingers went back to playing with the
chains around his throat. “Let me go get some water for you. Dehydration isn’t
a fashionable look.” Clever lips pressed against his mouth, making Clint
grumble, “Dammit, Nat, I just got him to settle down, don’t rile him up again,”
and Tony smirk and laugh into the playful kiss. Then Natasha was getting up,
and it was an instinctive kick to reach up and grab at her, prevent her from
leaving, a reaction of his biology to her rejection, though it was imagined. It
took him a moment to school his body and reel his desires back.
She hesitated, looking at him closely, then at Clint behind him. “I can wait a
bit longer, if you want,” she said, and Tony was pathetically grateful she
didn’t make it a patronizing question.
It took him a bit to clear his throat, and then he shook his head. “Sorry.
Harder to control myself, during my heats.”
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” she whispered, nuzzling against his forehead,
and with a deep kiss she stroked his cheek once and then climbed the rest of
the way out of the bed.
Those strong arms shifted, and then Clint’s weight pressed over his abdomen,
hands sweeping over Tony’s chest and gently massaging at the flesh there,
smoothing over the arc reactor and working out aches Tony didn’t realize he
had. Tony watched Clint a long while, had even started to drift off – which was
possible, omegas couldn’t go continuously for the couple of days their heats
were, though their libido far often outstripped their chosen partner’s – when
Clint rumbled, “You know, I’m kinda glad she left for right now. She’s probably
soothing Bruce and Steve, reassuring Thor. But since you seem more yourself –
and you have no idea how awesome that is, that I can check with you that you’re
happy with what’s going on – I have to make sure… that you’re okay with all of
us here.”
“I’m fine with it, Clint. I don’t – part of it’s being old, other part’s
Afghanistan, but I don’t… lubricate enough anymore. It’s a thing.”
“Alright,” Clint said, dropping his head down to kiss at Tony’s nose. “Then I
guess I have something for you, if you want it.”
Arousal pooled sluggishly in Tony’s abdomen, and Clint chuckled, voice deep and
a little hoarse. “No, not that, though I gotta say – wearing Natasha out in
under eight hours? That’s got to be some kind of record. No, we’ll get to that
in a bit, once we get some water in you and make sure that you don’t need to
doze for a while. Here—”
Clint leaned out of the mess of blankets and Tony’s knee-jerk reaction was to
reach for Clint’s arm, bring his alpha back, make his alpha pay attention to
him and only him. But Clint was coming back, one hand smoothing over Tony’s
head, blunt fingernails scraping pleasantly. “It’s alright, Tony, I’m right
here. I’m not crazy enough to leave. No, I have this for you.”
And then Clint set a long, rectangular box on Tony’s chest.
Tony blinked at it a long moment, and then looked up at Clint in confusion. “I
don’t – you’re in my bed, you don’t need to court me any further.”
Clint wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Gifts during heat are… are pretty much
standard, Tony. Especially when it’s the first heat, but even heats after that,
some kind of jewelry is recommended – how do you not know this?”
Tony flushed all the way down his chest, ears going red, and to distract
himself he pushed himself up on one elbow and grabbed the box. “What is it?” he
asked curiously, undoing the tie that held the box closed and then baring
delicate gold chains to the light. “A necklace?”
“No—” Clint began, but Tony was already lifting the beautiful chains and
shifting them every which way until his breath caught in his throat.
They were chains made to sheath the legs, draping over thigh and calves from a
thick band that was designed to be like a garter belt: wrapping around the
upper thigh and hugging it tight enough that the weight of the chains did not
drag it down. The chains themselves were a soft gold color, and Tony ran his
fingers over the draping chains in wonder.
“Steve has some like these,” Tony murmured.
Clint cleared his throat, sounding a bit awkward. “Yeah, I like – I like chains
over the arms and legs, the draping sheaths. I gave some to Bruce, too, but he
said he would only wear them during his heat; he doesn’t like how the chains
pull at the hair on his legs. Which is fair, of course, but that’s why you’ve
never seen him have any. But – I wanted to give you the leg sheaths. You don’t
have to wear them, of course, if you don’t want to—”
“Help me put them on?” Tony interrupted Clint, eager and sly and coy all at
once.
That brought a warm smile from Clint, and he moved off of where he’d been
straddling Tony’s hips for the massage he’d been giving Tony earlier.
Carefully, he took the first sheath and slid it up Tony’s leg, fastening the
band at the top of Tony’s left thigh, so high up that when Clint pressed a kiss
to the skin directly above the band, his nose just brushed the crease of Tony’s
thigh and groin. Then Clint moved to the other leg, dragging the chains up slow
and gentle, and Tony shivered under the feel of that cool metal hugging his
legs and falling artfully against his skin.
He winced a bit, when one of the chains caught at hair, and then he laughed. “I
understand why Bruce wouldn’t want to feel that constantly,” he murmured. “Does
Steve keep himself shaved so that it doesn’t pull?”
Clint shrugged, running his hand down Tony’s legs, pressing those chains
against Tony’s skin. “I dunno,” he said. “It’s entirely possible that his leg
hair is just that fine and light that you can’t really see it.”
Tony grumbled under his breath, trying again to put out of his mind the fact
that Steve and Bruce were probably far more desirable than himself. At least
Bruce didn’t seem as perfect as Steve, he supposed…
“Now,” Clint said, and his voice was low and commanding, enough to drag Tony
out of his thoughts and to force Tony to pay attention. “Where were we?”
Tony felt the familiar haze of need rise up and grip low in his gut, and he let
out almost a purr as he stretched and presented himself to his alpha.
                                      ***
“Tony.”
Tony drifted lazily in his own mind, the desperate need slaked for the moment,
but the voice was insistent.
“Tony.”
Slowly, he blinked, realized that the room was dim and almost overbearingly
hot. Part of that was a body cuddled up behind him, and when he twitched his
hips minutely, he could feel the thick knot at the rim of his ass, plugging
him. Pleased, he snuggled back against that body when he realized that someone
was kneeling in front of him.
It took him a moment for him to place Bruce, wearing a pair of briefs and
holding a cool glass of water. The water was what Tony focused on, and he
started to reach out for the cup.
The body behind him grunted, and the arm around Tony’s waist gripped tighter.
“It’s alright, Clint. It’s just water. Tony’s thirsty, right?”
Tony felt his brain clear up a bit, the pressing need for sex lessening, and he
groaned a bit. “God, I feel well-worn out.”
Bruce laughed softly, and shifted a bit closer. There was another rumbling
growl behind Tony – Clint? – and Bruce stopped moving, face serene and a little
amused. “That’s one way to put it, Tony,” he said quietly. “Natasha left the
room to get you something to drink, but also to get something to eat and to let
her clean up a bit, get some rest. When she came back, about two or three hours
later, Clint wouldn’t let her in the room. You’ve triggered Clint’s rut, which
I’m to tell you is extremely hard to do. Clint is normally more controlled than
this.”
Tony automatically dropped his hand to the arm around his waist, lightly
stroking the hair on the back of Clint’s arm. “Huh. Wow.”
“Yeah. Something about an established, confident omega makes betas and alphas
go wild, apparently.” Bruce chuckled, and Tony was infinitely grateful that
Bruce didn’t seem jealous, at least. “So since I’m an omega, and you did say
Steve and I could come in and help, I figured I’d see if Clint could be cajoled
out of it so that I can see if he hurt you.”
Alphas were the only ones who could go into rut, and like with omegas, it was a
time of mindless sex – only they were pretty much useless for half a day, to a
day, afterwards. Also, while omegas in heat got extra submissive and seductive
and coy, alphas in rut became exceedingly aggressive and sometimes could
physically hurt their partners, omegas or betas or other alphas, by their
mindless coupling.
“Clint never went into rut for you or Steve? I find that hard to believe,” Tony
said, yawning a little and feeling the buzz of his heat still dancing under his
skin, but he was of sound mind now and knew what was going on around him.
“Steve, at least, but I would think you too.”
“Oh, Clint and Thor both went into rut once apiece with me and Steve, yeah, but
Steve’s is a long heat, and Clint and Thor both went into rut closer to the end
of it, and mine is not even a real heat, just a pseudo-heat that lasts two days
or less, and they both went into rut at the same time – which was fun, let me
tell you. Steve and Natasha needed to come in and distract them from killing
each other over me. This is just starting your second day of heat.”
“It’s the middle of mine,” Tony murmured, rubbing his thumb in circles on the
back of Clint’s hand. “Mine’s only ever three days.”
Bruce furrowed his brow, and then nodded slowly. “Then maybe they adapt to our
cycles, and the level of hormones we put out. Having a short heat might also
explain why Natasha was worn out so quickly. She normally has a lot of staying
power, and keeps the alphas from tearing at each other over us, and keeps us
calm.” He smiled a little. “It’s probably something to do with forming a bonded
pack. After all, the alphas I’ve been with before rarely went into rut with me,
and when they did it didn’t coincide with my heat nearly as perfect as Clint
and Thor have.”
“Does this mean I’m stuck for a while?” Tony asked, shifting again and feeling
Clint’s mouth nip at the back of his neck, hold him tight, that knot still
tying them together.
Bruce nodded, edging closer, and this time Clint grumbled deep in his chest but
made no threatening noises otherwise. “Clint’s ruts are normally much faster
than Thor’s – he comes back to himself slowly, but Thor can easily be in rut
for ten to twelve hours. Clint’s in the more average range, in that his rut
rarely lasts more than six hours.”
“I don’t feel all that sore,” Tony mused, reaching out to Bruce now that Bruce
was close enough and taking the cup of water from Bruce’s hands. “Worn out, but
not sore.”
“That’s probably just endorphins; alpha ruts aren’t things to mess around with.
But since you’re still tied, I’ll just make sure you have water and leave you
to it.” Bruce hesitated, and then said quietly, “You’re a lot more aware than
an omega should be in your position, you realize? Is something wrong?”
Tony swallowed, and to his embarrassment and shame he found he couldn’t meet
Bruce’s eyes. “It’s – how I’ve always been. Since I first presented. I – I
don’t lose myself, as much, in my heat.”
“Do you know why?” Bruce asked curiously, taking the now empty cup from Tony
and moving close enough to be within touching distance.
Licking his lips, Tony worried at the back of Clint’s hand unconsciously, his
thumb frozen but his other fingers digging in just that bit tighter into
Clint’s hand. “I’m not – normal, for an omega.”
Behind Tony, Clint growled, and then Tony felt Clint shift, dragging Tony more
fully against his chest, Clint’s other arm – which had most likely been trapped
under his body, or Tony’s body – squirming forward to curl around Tony’s upper
chest and hug him tight. Bruce, meanwhile, looked down at Tony with a warm,
almost amused smile. “No, we geniuses are never normal when it comes to our
heat response, are we?” Bruce whispered, and he leaned down to oh-so-carefully
brush his lips against Tony’s. The kiss was soft, comforting, reassurance and
love poured into Tony’s mouth, and it was so deeply intimate that Tony flushed
from cheeks to chest, unable to comprehend the gentleness Bruce was offering so
freely. Clint would have reacted badly, had Bruce been anything other than an
omega; as it was, Clint made an unhappy sound and his hips jerked against
Tony’s ass as if trying to reassure Tony that Clint’s knot was still present,
and that Clint was still there.
When Bruce pulled away, he nuzzled at Tony’s jaw briefly before sitting back on
his heels. “I’ve noticed things during my heat that I shouldn’t have been able
to, and I’ve managed to communicate desires and dislikes. Steve isn’t as aware
as all that, but even he can comprehend his surroundings at least twenty-five
percent of the time. It’s not unnatural, Tony. From what I understand,
different omegas have different levels of awareness. It’s just your nature, and
I don’t think any of the alphas will complain. Natasha certainly was glad of
your ability to pull out of the heat and respond to questions.”
“Do you know what I want to ask you to do right now?” Tony said impulsively.
Bruce furrowed his brow and shook his head in the negative.
“I want to ask you to bring me a tablet. I have a design in my mind that I can
see clearly, all its lines and equations. I can feel my heat beneath my skin, I
can feel the shift of the fever in my bones, and yet I’m still thinking about
mechanics, and machinery, and I know that lying here while waiting for Clint’s
knot to go down can take minutes, maybe even an hour. I want something to do. I
can’t lose myself in the feel of him holding and protecting me. My brain
doesn’t settle.”
“Alright,” Bruce said, hitching one shoulder. “I’ll go do that. Which tablet do
you want?”
Tony stared at Bruce a long moment.
When Bruce realized Tony was shocked, he shook his head. “I’m sure you’ve been
having heats longer than I or Steve have been. You know what you need, and I’m
not going to argue with you about that.”
“Yeah, but…” Tony trailed off, then realized it wasn’t something he should be
arguing about. “Alright, well, if you could bring that here. How long before
Clint comes back to himself?”
“Soon enough,” Bruce murmured, and he let his eyes trail over Clint before
brushing a hand against Tony’s thigh, making the chains catch against Tony’s
hair and tug pleasantly. “I knew he was going to give this to you. He’s been
considering it a while, actually. He gave silver ones to Steve and myself. He
was saving up for you. Natasha too. Thor… I think Thor wanted to wait until
they could give you something beautiful, so that he didn’t shame them.”
“Shame them?” Tony asked, confused.
Bruce nodded, crawling out of Tony’s nest. “Yeah, you know, show their gifts
up? They wanted to make sure you’d like their courting gifts, that they
wouldn’t give you something petty and then Thor would bring, like, diamonds
strung on pure gold. They’d be embarrassed to tell you, but I wanted to let you
know that Steve and I both know, and we won’t be jealous; it doesn’t matter to
us how pure our metal is or how expensive our jewelry is. We’re not that
insecure. Steve even tried to point that out to them, but Natasha was dead set
on getting you something really nice, and Clint’s an alpha. He doesn’t want to
be shown up by another alpha, even if that alpha is a demi-god.”
“Wait—” Tony began, because he really wasn’t sure what Bruce was trying to say,
because it didn’t make sense, not really. But Bruce was already leaving, and
Clint had dropped his hand to smooth over Tony’s groin. Most omegas were hard
their entire heat; Tony, with his surges in the fever-heat and drops back into
lucidity, would go soft at times.
“Hey there, Iron Man,” Clint said, and his voice was rough, jagged. Tony
wondered if perhaps someone should be there to give Clint something to drink.
Reaching his hand back around to stroke Clint’s short blond hair, Tony
murmured, “Hey there, Hawkass. You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” Clint said, and made several attempts to clear his throat until he gave
up and simply swallowed a lot behind Tony’s head. “Yeah, I’m doing fine. Your
heats must go pretty fast; Bruce brought on the rut pretty quick, too.”
“No more than two or three days, depending on the stress and the month,” Tony
confirmed.
There was a few moments of silence, Tony holding the design in his head so he
didn’t forget it, antsy but not horny, and then Clint chuckled ruefully. “I
know you’re not feeling the urge right now, but even if I was to try and
distract you a bit from your boredom, I don’t think I can do it. I’m pretty
sure I’ve rubbed myself raw, and any further simulation would just be painful.
But I could jerk you off?”
It should have been a statement, but instead it was a question, Clint asking
whether Tony was alright with what he was proposing, and Tony found himself
snuggling back against Clint’s chest before he fully realized what he was going
to do. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not really horny, just – jittery. Hormones bouncing
around without any real output.”
“Hmm. You wanna talk?” Clint asked.
Tony laughed, and when Clint flinched a little, he patted the back of Clint’s
neck and turned his head sideways to breathe in Clint’s scent, heavy with alpha
pheromones and sex. “No, not really, though that’s because I’ve never been good
at talking things out. I need to see it, draw it, move it with my hands. S’why
engineering, you know? Most hands-on science, I feel. That doesn’t have to do
with the human body, anyways. And machines are simple. They make sense.”
“Well, we can talk about other things,” Clint offered. “This is kinda new for
me. I’ve never had an omega I could carry out full conversations with while
knotted.”
Something akin to shame squirmed in Tony’s stomach, but he hid it easier by
virtue of the fact that he wasn’t facing Clint. Instead, he asked, “How do you
normally deal with omegas?”
Clint hummed a little, a speculative sound that had his chest vibrating against
Tony’s back. “Oh, you know. You make sure they come as often as they need to,
keep them hydrated. I’m really glad Thor and Nats are around; most omegas don’t
like it if the alpha leaves their bed, and that makes it harder to get them
water. You have to time it with their periods of exhaustion. It’s hard to hold
off the rut; as much as the rut’s amazing, you can get really violent and it’s
better to wear the omega’s desperate phase out before letting the rut come,
because if the omega’s struggling to reach completion sometimes and alpha can
read that as struggling to get away, and, well… there’s a reason alphas in rut
aren’t treated lightly. Still, it’s difficult to control the rut. I certainly…
didn’t expect it so soon.”
Tony nodded slowly. “So it wasn’t particularly safe for you to go into rut, is
that what you’re saying?”
There was a very long period of silence, and Tony felt anxiety start to creep
in, ushered on by his hormones. Did he upset his alpha? Anger his alpha?
But before he could get himself worked up too much, Clint let out a heavy sigh
and gently ran fingers over Tony’s hip, letting his fingernails catch at the
chains encasing Tony’s legs. “Yeah. Yeah, it wasn’t. Bruce was probably here to
make sure you weren’t bleeding, or had any broken bones. You’re too close to
the beginning of your heat, and that means you still have a ways to go. Thor
and I, we normally hit rut maybe three-fourths of the way in. Once the omega’s
mostly done with their cycle, the hormones begin to lessen, clear up, and
that’s normally the trigger for ruts. But ruts can be triggered by intense
need, or arousal, so it’s not always a safe bet. I’m sorry, Tony. If you… if
you’d rather me not participate in your next heat—”
“No, wait, I wasn’t blaming you,” Tony said immediately. “It’s just – I’ve only
ever shared my heat with escorts, or Pep, or Rhodey. None of those stuck around
long enough for me to ask questions, and generally speaking if I was up and
talking they wanted to get some rest, or they wanted to get me to drink. They
weren’t… tied to me and stuck answering anything I asked. Rhodey would
sometimes carry me down to the workshop, if I asked it of him, and Pepper would
shove books at me, or papers to sign.”
“Their loss,” Clint grunted, pulling Tony firmly against the cradle of his
body, which was when Bruce came in with Tony’s tablet.
“It wasn’t really,” Tony muttered, because he’d never felt half as safe during
his heat with anyone except those two before. And Rhodey made him feel the
best, because with Rhodey he knew he didn’t need to impress him, knew Rhodey
wouldn’t be expecting anything from Tony except that Tony be himself and be
happy. Pepper, and this new pack, he was constantly worried about doing well,
saying the right thing, doing the right thing. Rhodey had never made him self-
conscious during his heats.
Clint shifted, and it felt like his knot had lessened, had softened a bit,
because it wasn’t this overwhelming pressure against Tony’s prostrate and rim
anymore. Before Tony could comment, the door opened and Bruce came in and
paused. “Ah. Well, should I still bring in the tablet?”
“Of course,” Clint rumbled behind Tony, and his voice was more authoritative
than it had been before, enough that Tony, for all that his hormones were
currently making it difficult to keep as close an eye on his environment as he
normally did, caught the way Bruce’s shoulders relaxed, the way tension bled
from his face.
Walking over, Bruce set the tablet next to Tony’s side and then reached for
water. “Are you thirsty, Clint?” he asked.
“Yeah, actually.”
Tony knew, of course, that Clint and Thor were a lot more asserting and
dominant with the other omegas on the team. They were always careful of Tony,
really, always making sure that they weren’t upsetting or hurting or angering
him, and while he liked that consideration, he was highly aware that it made
them nervous and created a tension between them that wasn’t there between them
and the other omegas in their pack. Seeing it now, seeing how Clint relaxed a
bit against Tony’s back and Bruce responded easily to that level, had his heat
clawing at his chest, making his lungs and heart feel tight and painful,
pressed too close to his ribs. It was another example of how the rest of the
pack fit with one another, how Tony was both the last to be included and the
one that brought tension into the mix.
It wasn’t a nice feeling, but when before he could laugh it off or simply not
react at all, now, with his heat pulsing under his skin and a messy soup of
emotions and impulses clogging his veins and the desperate feeling that he was
not good enough for his alpha, he wiggled back against Clint and gripped hard
at Clint’s hand when Bruce approached.
Bruce paused, brow furrowing, and then he carefully held out the cup to Tony.
“Do you want to hold it?”
Which, of course, was ridiculous, because Tony’s back was to Clint and how was
he really going to provide for his alpha, anyway? It was a bit harder to force
his instincts down, but he wasn’t ruled by his heat, hadn’t been since he was
fourteen when his heat had first hit him, and he let his shoulders go lax,
waved a hand in the air dismissively. “No, no. Sorry about that. Omega hormones
and all; just because I’m more in control doesn’t mean it’s easy to ignore
knee-jerk reactions, sorry.”
“Tony—” Bruce began, but Tony picked up the tablet and powered it on.
And it wasn’t like Tony was oblivious; he could feel, practically sense,
Clint’s confusion and Bruce’s worry. It was just… he wasn’t up to dealing with
it. These small flashes of possessiveness had happened on and off during their
‘sex marathons’ (and boy did Steve get all flustered when Tony called them
that, mostly because he didn’t like the connotations of the term and preferred
to call it ‘making love’ or something else ridiculously sappy), when Tony would
be intimately aware of how he was not fitting the way he was supposed to and
got clingy because of it, but he could laugh it off, then. Turn it into a lewd
remark, or a joke. Here, where his emotions were close to the surface for
anyone to notice, spelled out on his face like scarlet letters, he couldn’t do
it. The best and easiest thing to do was ignore it.
(Alright, not the best, but hell, no one ever said Tony was a champion at
facing his insecurities.)
Finally, Bruce leaned forward to let Clint sip at the water, and Tony hummed
under his breath as he tapped out instructions on his tablet. Really, he ought
to be happy that he had his tablet and no one thought too badly of him, that he
wasn’t focused on the alpha literally tied to his ass.
When Bruce pulled back, he hesitated, looking as if he wanted to touch Tony but
wasn’t sure of his welcome. To be fair, Tony knew why Bruce would worry about
his welcome now, but it didn’t change the fact that Bruce’s uncertainty
irritated, dragged against his skin and nerves the wrong way. He dropped his
gaze and focused on the tablet in hand, dismissing Bruce entirely so that he
wouldn’t have to feel – again – cut off and out of the obviously familiar and
intimate relationship the rest of the group shared.
“I’ll send Natasha in,” Bruce murmured, getting up from the side of the bed and
moving towards the door.
“Not yet,” Clint said immediately.
Bruce paused, brow furrowed, and Tony did his best to ignore the both of them
(well, as much as one could ignore someone tied in his ass, but Tony was the
master at ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge). Clint didn’t say
anything more than that, however, and so after a few seconds, Bruce shrugged
and exited the room.
Tony felt Clint shift against his back, felt the knot that much less, looser,
and he wiggled his hips impatiently.
With a hiss, Clint put a gentle hand against Tony’s hip. “Easy,” he murmured.
“Rubbed myself raw, you know.” Before Tony could say anything in response to
that, Clint’s chin hooked against Tony’s shoulder and his nose nudged at Tony’s
ear. “So, what are you working on right now?”
Tony could either keep on ignoring Clint or let it go. It’d be satisfying to do
the first, but contrary to popular wisdom, Tony wasn’t a complete dick and he
wasn’t going to treat Clint badly for something he really shouldn’t be jealous
over in the first place. So he let out a sigh and shifted so that the tablet
was more in Clint’s line of vision. “Some ideas for body armor, actually. You
and Steve and Natasha all need it, and need it to be flexible without giving up
the strength of its protections. Trying to come up with a new mix that will
leave you guys room to move but will still stop the stray bullet or ten.”
“Our suits are reinforced as they are right now, though, I thought?” Clint
asked.
“Yeah, they are. They’re also markedly different from a t-shirt and sweats,
right? Even though you and Natasha and Steve work out in just that. Why do you
guys do that? Because you like the way we stare at you?”
Clint shrugged against Tony’s back. “Soaks up the sweat. And yeah, I guess it’s
easier to move in them. But we can move in our suits, too.”
“But I can make it better,” Tony said huffily.
Clint chuckled against Tony’s shoulder, breath puffing at Tony’s ear. “I
believe you,” he murmured, hand moving from Tony’s hip up his side, stroking
and soothing. “I just – wonder why. You have so many other things to focus on,
it’s… touching when you focus on us, but we worry about you, Tony. We don’t
want to be a distraction to you.”
Tony bit his tongue and stared at the tablet in front of him, counting to ten
slow and steady in his head. Before he’d reached seven, Clint was leaning in to
him, hands uncertain. “Tony?” he asked.
“I get,” Tony said quietly, “that you guys feel that I am not in fact as
invested with you as you are with me, and I get that this entire team functions
fine without me, but I get to say what I choose to do with my time, and if I
want to fucking focus on the bit I get from you, then I’m going to focus on
that.”
There was a long silence and then Clint growled under his breath about not
being able to see Tony’s face. “Look,” he said, loudly and clearly, “we know
you’re as invested with us as we are with you. We are a team, and we’re
building a pack with one another, and that includes you too, okay? We aren’t
not including you.”
“No, you’re only acting as if including me is an inconvenience that you have to
tolerate,” Tony snarled.
“That is – so far from the truth I don’t even know where you got that idea,”
Clint said, and his voice was frustrated, annoyed. Tony felt a heat begin to
build in his chest in response to that annoyance, and he growled in
frustration. An angry alpha normally triggered pheromones within an omega to
please and calm the alpha down, and Tony was in heat – those pheromones would
most likely trigger another wave of nothing but lust and sex, sex that Clint
couldn’t handle right now and that Tony didn’t want right this minute. Clint
didn’t seem to notice, because he had continued, “You’ve probably had thousands
of offers to be with an alpha, maybe even be part of an alpha’s pack – who
knows? And yet you’re still single, and so we don’t want to make whatever
mistakes those other alphas made. We just want you for you, not for what you
can make us or what your wealth can give us.”
“That is a part of who I am!” Tony hissed, fingers jabbing at the tablet keys.
“If you don’t want part of me, how could you really want me to be a part of
your pack?”
“That’s not – you don’t understand—” Clint began.
Tony snorted. “Please, tell me how my feeble omega mind managed to misconstrue
your words.”
“That’s not what I was saying, either! Please, can I just – can I just try and
get the words right? I’m not good at speaking, at explaining.”
Tony stared quietly down at the tablet and then inclined his head.
Letting out a whoosh of breath, Clint sighed and for a minute, there was
nothing. Then, tentatively, Clint began, “We really – really appreciate,
everything you do. You – you opened your home to us. You let us live here, free
of charge. You care for us, give us upgraded technology, you order takeout, you
decorated our rooms, you – you gave us entire floors. Tony, we want you a part
of our pack not because of everything you can give us, but because we like who
you are. If you were broke and homeless, we’d want you. Your – your investment
in us is not, was never, the question. It was whether we could – we could be
enough for you.”
Tony had heard that, often enough. He’d heard it from lovers over and over,
that they didn’t give him gifts and jewelry and commit because he was so great,
so much higher than them, that they didn’t think it would be a good match, it
would be fair. They couldn’t keep him in the ‘comfort’ that he expected. They
didn’t want to embarrass themselves by giving him something cheap – and then,
when he told them that anything would be fine, that he didn’t mind, he didn’t
expect them to drape him in jewels and expensive gold chains, they’d give him a
ribbon or wooden beads strung on a cord. And – he had meant it, he wasn’t
picky, he didn’t want his lovers to break their bank for him, he just wanted
some bit of jewelry that meant he meant something to them, but… it never seemed
that he deserved more than an afterthought. Hearing Clint mouth the same
sentiment, if worded a bit differently…
His body had upshifted again, moving back into the heat, and he knew sooner
rather than later he’d be lost in the haze of his emotions and lust again.
Still, he growled low in his throat, “Maybe you should ask me directly, then,
instead of assuming you can figure out what I need without asking.”
Clint’s forehead pressed against the back of Tony’s neck, mouthing at the
sensitive skin there, licking at the clasp of the necklaces in a way that sent
frissons of sensation down Tony’s spine. “I think,” he murmured quietly, nosing
behind Tony’s ear, “when your heat is done we need to sit down and discuss how
we managed to make you feel as if we didn’t care – because we do.”
Tony hurried to get the last bits of the equation and design out of his mind,
because the tide of emotion was threatening to sweep him under again, and then
he shoved the tablet against the edge of the neck and rocked back.
Clint hissed in pain and then he slipped out entirely of Tony’s ass. Tony made
a soft keen of loss, fingers clutching tight against Clint’s arm, feeling the
corded muscle there that stood out as Clint gripped Tony just as tightly back.
“Shh, it’s okay. Here, let me try something?” Clint asked, gently extracting
himself from Tony’s grip and rolling Tony onto his back before getting on top
of him like a mare standing over her foal, hands braced against the bed on
either side of Tony’s head, knees planted on the mattress underneath Tony’s
ass, waist shoving Tony’s legs apart. He bent his head down and licked at
Tony’s sweat-streaked chest, let Tony scrabble weakly at his shoulders, then
dragged his mouth up to Tony’s, kissing deep and filthy.
“I want to kiss a different part of you,” Clint growled, and maybe his rut was
mostly over – well, no maybe about it, Clint’s words were slurring and sooner
or later Clint would fall into that coma alphas fell to when their rut was
completed – but the authority in Clint’s voice and strength in Clint’s arms and
back had Tony melting back against the sheets.
Clint slid down the line of Tony’s body, biting hickeys into the flesh of
Tony’s belly and thighs, and then he tilted Tony’s ass up and began licking at
Tony’s puffy, weeping hole.
The sight of Clint down there, even if the alpha wasn’t splayed over Tony
keeping Tony feeling safe, had Tony letting out a whine as his heat spread
throughout his body once more, washing away his thoughts.
                                      ***
Tony gradually became aware of himself through the sensation of touch, first –
cool air blowing against sticky and more-than-a-little gross skin, warm narrow
arms cradling his upper chest, head pressed against soft skin, knees pressing
against the outside of his waist, bracketing him, the cool metal chains of his
necklace and leg sheaths leaving a gentle weight that grounded him. He let out
a soft hum of contentment and felt fingers card through his hair.
There was a distant rumble – a voice, he knew, but he couldn’t care to think
about it too much right at the moment. The arms holding him relaxed slightly,
even as broader, powerful hands gently stroked along his ribs, calming and
soothing. He shivered a little from pleasure, but a soft voice murmured against
his ear.
The body that had been holding and bracketing him slowly extricated itself from
him, and he let out unhappy noises, clutching convulsively, before someone else
slid against his front. Someone larger, broader in shoulders, with a harder
chest, tucked Tony’s head close under a sharp jaw. The scent told him omega,
and he growled lightly in the back of his throat.
Then someone much broader and taller, muscular and radiating an aura of alpha
so strongly that Tony registered it even in his slowly-coming-online brain.
This alpha slid into his nest, pressed against the line of Tony’s back, and
Tony wiggled away from the omega in front and plastered himself against the
alpha behind him.
The alpha let out a pleased, rumbling laugh, and hairs tickled against Tony’s
neck. The sensations slowly coalesced into sensory memory, and his brain ticked
online. Thor, he thought, at the same time his hindbrain kicked in and told him
that another omega was in bed with his alpha. Arching his back to rub his ass
against the alpha’s groin, he gripped tight to the alpha’s arm and curled his
other hand into a clawed almost-fist.
“Shit, Bruce said you were more aware than normal omegas,” and that was Steve
muttering, omega, and Tony could feel his teeth beginning to grind, upper lip
curling.
There was more muttering from Steve, soft words that Tony was having difficulty
picking out and putting together, and then two hands came up to gently cup
Tony’s face. The smell of omega curled in Tony’s nose and he snarled, his hands
coming up to grip the other omega’s wrists.
“Tony. Tony,” Steve said, and Tony fought to try and focus on Steve’s urgent
voice. “Tony, because your heat goes by fast, your hormones sent Thor into a
rut. Okay? He wants you, he has you, I’m just here because he’s Asgardian, he
can seriously damage you and he’s in no mental state to stop if he… breaks
bones, or something. I’m just here to help. Okay? I’m not here to threaten you.
Thor’s not here for me. He doesn’t want me right now. He has you. Okay?”
The words were starting to make sense, but it was hard to follow them because
the alpha behind him had either just managed to line things up right or had
been situating everything until he was content with Tony’s position, because
the alpha – Thor – let out a deep growl and bucked forward, hard, into Tony’s
ass.
Tony let out a gasp, hands tightening on Steve’s wrists, and Steve cursed under
his breath. “Tony, you really need to let me know if—”
“M’ok,” Tony gasped, forcing his mouth to make words even if it was extremely
difficult. “I think.”
And it wasn’t even mostly a lie – he might be reengaging his brain, but his
heat was still on him and it was getting close to the end of it, where he was
needy and clingy and wanted this kind of attention. Alright, perhaps not as
vigorous attention as this, but there was something to be said for getting
pinned facedown and pounded by an almost-god.
“Oh good, Tony, I’m here because Thor very literally walked into the door and
then went into rut. Okay? I’m here to help you. You need to let me know if
Thor’s – if it’s too hard, or – or anything—”
“Grip,” Tony gasped, because his hips were creaking in Thor’s powerful hands,
pinpricks of pain sparking with the absolutely delectable feeling of having his
ass stretched out, speared deep, and battered.
“Shit, okay,” Steve murmured, slipping his hands free of Tony’s now-lax grip,
helping Tony brace against the sheets of the nest, and then Steve slid down
Tony’s side.
Absently, Tony recognized that Steve was wearing sweats, and the thought put
him more at ease. Yeah, he didn’t really like other omegas in his nests, no
matter that other omegas liked to create puppy piles with each other inside and
outside their nests. But here, Steve was clearly not here to offer himself as
the better choice for Thor, which made it easier for Tony to accept Steve’s
grating presence.
It helped him relax, go pliant underneath Thor’s vicious rutting, and Tony knew
– objectively, but knew – that alphas could physically injure and sometimes
even maim omega partners if their rut went on too long. He hoped Steve wouldn’t
have to physically drag Thor off…
…because he was enjoying it quite a bit. And he couldn’t guarantee that he
would let Steve do that in the first place, considering that his omega
hindbrain wasn’t exactly welcoming other omegas around right now.
Thor let out a deep growl, hands clutching at Tony’s hips once more, and then
the grip loosened to bearable levels. Tony let out a low moan of approval,
dropping his shoulders down and lifting his ass up, feeling his body relax into
the punishing rhythm Thor was setting. Steve shifted back up by Tony’s head,
hands gentle and loving as they stroked Tony’s neck and head. Purring in his
throat, Tony reveled in the attention he was getting. Having an alpha on his
ass was amazing; having an omega at his head, lavishing attention and care on
him, was heaven, and he reveled in the twin sensations as Thor’s knot grew and
grew and grew in his ass, until he was whimpering, torn between the desire for
that thick swell to be pressed against his prostrate and the desperate
certainty that he couldn’t take it anymore and he needed to get away. It didn’t
matter – Thor held him steady, held him down, and Tony writhed against Steve’s
lap as his vision whited out in orgasm.
He came back to himself slowly, dazed and more than a little dopey, slumped
down against the sheets, Steve’s fingers running through his sweat-soaked hair,
Thor growling low against Tony’s back, hips snugged up against Tony’s ass, knot
pressing all the right places deep inside. Tony hummed his approval, slinking
his body and tugging lightly against Thor’s knot, making sure it couldn’t come
out. Thor’s growls gained a sharper note, hands clenching against Tony’s thighs
to hold him still, and that feeling of safe and protected and wanted had Tony
purring again, pleased and content.
Movement at his head startled him, and Tony jerked slightly – making Thor growl
again – until he realized it was only Steve, and a clothed Steve at that. With
a quiet mumble, Tony settled back down beneath Thor’s heavy weight, feeling
those thighs press against the back of Tony’s legs, feeling the tightness of
metal against his thigh and his neck and his fingers. He was safe, and so he
settled down, blinking tiredly up into Steve’s face.
“You’re… different, during your heat,” Steve whispered, his body curled around
their embrace but carefully not touching Thor as much as he was touching Tony.
“Everyone’s different during heat,” Tony yawned.
Steve shook his head, playing with the hair behind Tony’s ears and then moving
down to rub along Tony’s upper arm. “Bruce isn’t – he’s practically the same
during as well as after heat. I’m almost the same, but not quite; while Bruce
keeps his head and interacts verbally, I can keep my head but I’m very much a
nonverbal communicator.”
The faint stirrings of irritation wisped in the back of Tony’s mind, and he
leveled a half-hearted glare in Steve’s direction. “So? Enlighten me on how I’m
different.”
At least Steve seemed to realize he was on thin ice, because he licked his lips
and hesitated, though his slow, careful touches never stopped. “It’s – when you
were with us, before, sex seemed… seemed expected, or something you knew would
happen. You were – are – a generous lover, not just with alphas but also with
Natasha. And Bruce, and myself, when it comes to it. But it seemed as if you
were trying to keep it casual, as if it didn’t… matter for you, as much as sex
during your heat matters. Which is odd, for me at least, because it’s the sex
outside of my heat that matters a whole lot more than sex during my heat.
During my heat, I’m scratching an itch I need to have attended to – outside of
my heat, I am more conscious. More in the moment.”
Tony stared at Steve a long moment and then remarked in a deceptively mild
voice, “I’ve got Thor’s gorgeous knot up my ass and his weight on my back and
side and legs, so I’m going to just say that fuck you and all the rest of you.”
Steve winced. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound very good.” He paused, and Tony took
that opportunity to curl up tighter against Thor’s side, using physical
sensations to block out the other emotions threatening to rise.
It was hard to keep ignore Steve, especially when Steve lightly touched Tony’s
arm, soft brushes that made Tony’s skin tingle. “I don’t think – look, it’s our
insecurities, okay? You are – you give us so much. Hell, Bruce and I don’t
contribute half as much to this pack as you do. And we’re constantly baffled by
it, because we aren’t all that special. We don’t know why you picked us, and
we’re always happy you did. We just worry that we can’t – we can’t keep you.”
“Steve,” Tony said roughly, “I have my alpha’s dick in my ass and I had a very
nice mellow glow going on. Why don’t you shut the hell up and just lie there,
or leave?”
Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but after a few moments sighed and nodded
his agreement, putting his head down and lying still. Well, mostly still; he
still ran his hand up and down Tony’s arm, a repetitive movement that made Tony
realize how absolutely fucking exhausted he was. After all, it wasn’t like he
was sleeping through Clint or Thor’s attentions, or even Natasha’s. He just
lost time because of the intense sensations, because of his heat, and because
of his orgasms.
Tony found himself dropping off.
                                      ***
“Of course it’s not – it’s not you, Tony.”
“It’s you, right?” Tony sneered.
Pepper swallowed, but she was an alpha and she didn’t back down from
uncomfortable situations, just because Tony was being a prissy omega and
throwing a fit. “It is, yes. I can’t give you what you need. I’m not enough for
you, and it’s unfair to keep you with me when I’m doing nothing but hurting
you. It’s not fair formeto stay withyou, not when I’m constantly comparing
myself to others in your life, getting jealous, and being distracted from
running your company.”
Tony turned on his heel and stormed back to the worktable, ignoring Dum-E’s
soft whine. “Can I still ask you to see me through heats?” he asked
apathetically.
“Of course, Tony. I’d – I’d be honored.”
“Yeah. Of course you would be,” he snarled.
When no other words were spoken, Pepper’s heels clicked away, and Tony listened
to his workshop door slide open and then close. After a few minutes, he
growled, “Lock down all access to the workshop, J.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He had – dammit, he hadtried, he
had tried to make it so clear that he didn’t want or need the jewelry other
omegas had (even though he wished he had at least something long-lasting from
Pepper), he didn’t want or need her undivided attention (even when he did), he
wasn’t going to make unreasonable demands upon her or her time…
Everyone always said ‘it’s not you, Tony, it’s me, how can I compete, how can I
compare, you’re better off without me’ and someday Tony was going to let the
whole world know he was done with others dictating tohimwhat he needed.
“Cue up Project File XTR, J,” he said tiredly, worn out and feeling old and
useless. “Might as well get something done.”
“As you wish, sir,” J replied softly.
                                      ***
Tony jerked awake at the feel of Thor moving against his back. The air rushed
in, feeling cold and uncomfortable, and he let out a confused whine, trying to
coordinate his limbs to turn and grab at his alpha. Why was he leaving? It
didn’t make sense, he’d been good, hadn’t he? Why was—
The hands that had been stroking his hair and arms suddenly left, and Tony
opened his eyes to see Steve extricating himself from the nest of blankets, and
the bed dipped as Thor began to move away. Desperately, he managed to throw an
arm out and grab Thor’s wrist tightly, feeling the beginnings of a panic attack
claw at the back of his throat. “Don’t,” he managed, voice hoarse. “What—”
Another soft sound of movement, from behind him, and then smaller hands, though
no less comforting and competent, gently gripped his shoulders, ran down his
back. “I’m here, Tony,” Natasha whispered against his ear. “I’m right here.”
He knew – objectively, he knew he was clingy at the end of his heat, but he
always, always, hated it. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting the closeness,
the warmth and familiarity of their scent and their touch and their sound.
“Be calm, beloved,” Thor rumbled, voice a little slurred, turning back to Tony,
one large hand cupping Tony’s cheek. “We will speak later on, but be assured,
we will speak.” He started to leave again – which still made Tony’s insides
twist in terror, but Natasha was calming – before he paused. “I have withheld
gifts thus far out of respect to Clint and Natasha, but I see you decked out in
their finery, and I would see you wear at least one of my gifts before I
depart. The other gift I will discuss with you at a later date.” He stood up
from the bed, gloriously nude – and swaying, because he still wasn’t fully
recovered from his rut – and picked up a small box. “May I place it upon your
arm?”
Tony licked his lips, glancing over at Steve, before nodding uncertainly.
Carefully, Thor opened up the box and revealed a beautiful bracer, with a
cleverly concealed hinge to he could open it and set it against Tony’s upper
arm.
“I cannot express my pleasure and the honor I feel because you have allowed me
to tend you throughout your heat,” Thor whispered, eyes half-drooping but no
less intense. “Thank you.”
Steve came over to help Thor stagger out of the room, and Tony watched them go
with a mix of pleased conceit and nervous anxiety. After a few moments, Natasha
took Tony’s arm and gently turned him to face her. “At the end of Steve’s
heat,” she said quietly, “he prefers to be surrounded by all of us, but
particularly Bruce. Bruce, at the end, likes to be supervised but otherwise
left alone. I am here to help you, but I’m not sure if you want actual sex or
just to be held.”
“I – either. Both. Whichever one you prefer.” Tony shifted against her, placing
his nose against her throat and breathing in deep.
Natasha laughed fondly, stroking her hands in his hair, smoothing her fingers
down his neck. “I would like to know what you prefer,” she murmured. “Your heat
is about you, and what you want.”
Tony licked his lips. There was a reason – a reason he’d picked her, he’d
agreed. If it had been Thor, or Clint, he might have agreed, but there would
have been more conditions. Even with Rhodey and Pepper, he put conditions,
asked them to leave after a certain amount of time, letting him curl up in the
center of his nest, wrap blankets around himself, and huddle there waiting for
the hormones to flush out of his body fully. But Natasha – Natasha had seen him
at his lowest, had given him a scathing review, and yet hadn’t treated him
badly when they’d next joined up. Hell, she hadn’t even given him the subtle
digs he’d gotten from other alphas and betas who thought he just needed a
proper swell or knot to pop his ego and cut him down to size. She treated him
professionally and talked with him professionally. She listened to his input
and had never devalued him or his opinions because he was an omega.
So he leaned against her, feeling the weight of her breasts pushing his chains
against his skin, the warmth she offered, and whispered tentatively, “I’d like
to just – sit, for a while.”
“Sit or lay down?” she murmured, already tugging him into a more comfortable
position – he had twisted and turned to grab onto Thor’s hand – and he folded
against her gracefully.
It was – not quite shame, but definitely a private embarrassment. He wasn’t
used to the softer side of emotions, the caring side, and it threw him for a
loop continuously. Pepper had tried, god knew, but he had tried her patience,
and Rhodey’s love had always been of the tough variety. Rhodey didn’t deal well
with emotions himself, and Tony had a horrible time expressing them, so they
soldiered on in their way and often ignored talking about the really deep,
personal things that would have connected them into a solid alpha and omega
partnership.
Well, that and the fact that Rhodey was straight, and saw Tony more like a
younger brother than an actual potential spouse or packmate.
So he let her move him around, let her tug a blanket from the edges of his now-
disheveled nest (he itched to put it to rights, to make it neat again, but that
was a bit beyond his motor skills at the moment) to pull up over them, and she
ran fingers down and over his side and his chest, crooning soft songs.
He had perhaps one or two tides of lust again, but they were both small – one,
she rose up against him, delicately holding him down and beneath the blanket,
rode him through it, still so gentle he almost cried; and the second, she
simply stroked him through his orgasm, an unhurried and slow interaction that
was absolutely perfect. As his heat wound down, he felt his limbs grow heavy,
his metabolism come back to life in sputtering jumps and starts. She kept a
cool fruit juice by the bed, in easy reach, and fed him sips of it. He didn’t
know how long she sat there – eight hours was the average come-down time, but
he could easily go for as long as ten – and he wasn’t sure he was awake for all
of it, but she always seemed to be. Awake, that was; always awake, always
there, her voice low and her touch reverent.
                                      ***
Tony woke up and immediately knew his heat was over due to the fact that scents
that once seemed attractive and arousing – come, pre-cum, and sweat – were now
really rank and gross, and that his body was aching and in pain. He grunted and
scrabbled around a bit, trying not to bump the body next to him, but Natasha
just chuckled a little and pulled the blanket away to give him freedom of
movement.
He sat up, absently aware of the jewelry on his hands and legs and arm, and
around his neck, and looked around. When his eyes reached Natasha, she held out
a pinkish-yellow smoothie.
He took it suspiciously and sniffed it. “What is it?”
“Protein smoothie. Bruce promptly inhales donuts, and Steve inhales everything,
but I’m not sure you’re ready for solid food yet.”
Tony’s stomach gurgled uncomfortably at the thought. “No, you’re right, this is
perfect.” He sipped it, and his eyebrows went up. “No, it’s really perfect,
what the hell?”
Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder and stood up. “I’m guessing
you want a shower and to have these sheets washed?”
“I’ll clean them up,” he said immediately. “Just – I can do it. Thank you.”
She nodded amiably, as if he hadn’t just jumped down her throat for it. “Of
course. I’m going to get some rest, and I’m sure you’re still tired, but see if
you can wander out. Bruce makes excellent tea.”
“I’m more of a coffee man, myself.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “And Steve makes excellent cocoa.”
That gave Tony pause, and he sat there a moment before sighing. “Fine, I’ll see
if I can go out and eat something.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “And Tony?”
She was almost out the door, and he was slowly dragging himself off his
rumpled, messy, smelly bed. He looked over at her at the pause. “Yeah?” he
asked warily.
“Thank you so much, for letting us do this, and we all love you very much.”
It made something tighten in his throat, and all he could manage was a small
nod of thanks. When she left, he sat there a moment longer, thinking, before he
swallowed hard and moved to start washing up.
In the bathroom, he stared at the fading bruises on his hips and neck, down his
chest and arms. He looked at the gold almost glowing against his skin, the
beauty and intricacy of each piece amazing him. He thought over his heat, of
Clint and Bruce’s careful interaction, of Steve’s awkward fumbling. Of
Natasha’s easy acceptance of him, and his issues. Of Thor, and Thor’s promise
to talk.
Carefully taking off all the jewelry, he set them on the marble counter and
climbed into the shower for a long, hot bath with lots of bubbles and the scent
of jasmine. In the water, he thought back over his heat, remembering with
fondness the intimacy, the sheer gentleness Natasha and Clint had had, and the
leashed brutality both Clint and Thor had exhibited that sent his blood racing.
He remembered Bruce and Steve and Clint’s oblique hints that they weren’t
enough, that the problem was with them, the rest of the pack, not Tony, and
remembered countless other lovers saying that to him over the many, many years.
He could say something ridiculous, like it felt as if this group was saying it
in a different way than the others said it, or something sentimental, like he
didn’t care if they weren’t saying it in a different way, he’d take what he
could get, but at the root of it… he couldn’t know. He didn’t know. It was too
easy to blame him, he’d found out. Too easy for alphas and betas to say that
they were intimidated by a strong omega, and that was why they didn’t offer
jewelry, because they were afraid of being rejected, or why they asked for the
jewelry back at the end, because of course their pieces could never compare to
the other pieces Tony must have somewhere in his chest.
He knew he needed to speak to them. He just… wasn’t good at confrontations, at
talking things out, at dealing with emotions whatsoever. It was easier to avoid
and deflect, play the showman to distract from the real issues.
By the time the water was lukewarm, and he’d soaked until his muscles felt
marginally like working bits of his body, his stomach was making itself known.
It wanted something more sustaining than the water he’d been drinking over the
past two or three days, which—
“JARVIS, what’s the date?”
“The time is eleven forty-eight on Thursday the twenty-sixth of March—”
“Thanks, J,” Tony muttered. Four days since he last remembered, which either
meant that his heat lasted an extra day, or it lasted his customary three days
and he slept through the day after his heat ended.
He supposed he could ask Natasha. She wouldn’t mind, and he’d prefer to know if
his heat, at his age, was starting to shift or change its pattern.
Moving like an old, arthritic person, he groped his way out of the bath and
snatched the nearest fluffy towel, wrapping it around his body and shivering a
little. The jewelry sat glittering on the counter, and he couldn’t help the
small thrill that it was – it hadn’t disappeared, or been taken. They were all
his, and they were… amazing. Beautiful.
Picking up the pieces, he shuffled out of the bathroom, the towel draped around
his shoulders and brushing against the tops of his thighs. In his closet, he
pulled out the chest and opened it up, carefully lying the pieces inside.
“Tony?”
Tony jerked in surprise, whipping around and banging his head on the doorframe
of the closet. “Shit, fuck, what the hell?”
Bruce blinked at him. “I was coming to see if – if you needed help, but – Tony,
what is that?”
Tony’s shoulders went tight, hunched up near his ears. “That – look, I was
coming, okay, it just took me a while. Alright? I was – I was coming.”
Bruce moved down to sit on the floor next to Tony, one hand coming up to press
against Tony’s back, warmth and comfort. “Is that your… chest?”
“You got something to say?” Tony snapped. “You going to talk to Steve about
poor pathetic Tony, while you guys have chests overflowing of jewelry? You’re
going to talk about how your gifts is ‘too paltry’ to give me and so withhold
whatever you could have possibly pretended to give me? You gonna throw ribbons
and plastic beads at me too? Gonna tell me what everyone else said, that ‘it’s
not you, Tony, not your greatness, it’s me, I’m not worthy’ and make my fucking
decisions for me—”
Bruce threw his arms around Tony’s shoulders, pulling Tony into a tight hug.
“We didn’t – that was never our intention. We always wanted you, always, but we
– we should have asked you, what you wanted, if you were happy with us, if you
wanted to be in a pack. I think Clint and Thor, they wanted to be a proper
alpha, they wanted to prove we could be a good pack for you, but we didn’t ask
you,” he whispered into Tony’s neck. “We did it – in your best interests, but I
bet that’s not worth much now, is it.”
Tony wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, because he was mad, but Bruce was
hugging him, which didn’t seem to make very much sense. “I – what?”
“Tony, we’re sitting out there hoping we made a good impression on you in these
past three or four days, because Thor and Clint have something very important
to ask you.” Bruce leaned back, and he looked faintly green around the edges.
“Just – we want you. We have never wanted otherwise. And ask Steve about the
jewelry you got; Thor and Clint and even Natasha, Steve told them, but they
didn’t listen. Well, Thor listened.”
Just like during his heat, Bruce wasn’t making any type of sense Tony could
parse. “What? Bruce, you’re not making—”
Bruce gently cupped Tony’s chin, kissing him soft and slow and sweet, and Tony
melted into the touch – omegas might not make good heat partners, but Bruce was
a knowledgeable and incredibly skilled lover, and his kisses made Tony’s head
spin.
“Let’s get you in a robe, or pajamas, and get you out where we can get you some
more smoothies. You’re probably hungry.”
As if on cue, Tony’s stomach ached and rumbled.
Smiling, Bruce stood up and put out his hand to help Tony up. Thoroughly
confused, Tony took the hand and followed Bruce out of the closet.
                                      ***
Wrapped in a fluffy robe over sweatpants and a tank shirt, Tony trailed behind
Bruce into the kitchen, where everyone sat around a table in a weighty silence.
Tony narrowed his eyes at the large amounts of nonverbal communication
happening back and forth between Thor and Clint, Thor and Steve, Natasha and
Clint, and Natasha and Steve, before sighing and stumbling over to the
coffeemaker.
“Please, beloved, please sit and let us get for you sustenance,” Thor said
immediately, leaping up out of his chair to the point that it fell over.
Tony looked at all of them and then looked over at Bruce, who gave him a small
smile of encouragement. Tony looked back at all the expectant and nervous faces
sitting around his table.
Normally, he’d say that this was what people looked like before they broke up
with him. Before they gave him the speech that he was a great omega, of course
he was, but he deserved better in life than them, and they would bow out and
not chain Tony down. But from all the rambling Bruce had done, all the
mysterious words and cryptic sentences, Tony had grasped that they weren’t
going to make decisions for him anymore – or, at least, that they all loved him
very much.
It wasn’t as comforting as it should be, since he could remember Pepper’s voice
telling him that she loved him, she just wasn’t being fair to him, but he
supposed that it was something.
So he let himself be led back to the table, watched as Clint pulled out a thick
green smoothie and Thor began to let the coffee drip down into the pot. He
looked over at Natasha, because for all that Natasha was professional and
unemotional when it came to work, she was warm and loving and protective
without being overbearing. She didn’t look – no, she looked a little worried,
but she didn’t look sympathetic, not in the way that she did when she was
trying to break news gently to him (“Clint broke the coffeepot again”).
“Well?” he asked finally. “You’re all staring at me like I’m the only steak in
a restaurant, so…”
Clint glanced at Thor one final time, and then Thor cleared his throat and
leaned forward. “Anthony,” he said, solemn and serious. “Would you honor us by
being our pack omega?”
Tony—
Tony stared.
There wasn’t—
That wasn’t even remotely on the list of things he thought he’d ever hear.
“What?” he managed.
“We’d like you to be our pack’s omega. You are highly valued, and you already
do so much for us,” Natasha cut in smoothly, as Clint and Thor shifted uneasily
in their chairs. “We want you to remain with us, and we did our best to
showcase our ability to care and provide for you and your fellow omegas. It
would – be an honor if you would accept.”
“No one’s – I mean—” Tony stuttered to a stop, eyes wide, looking over at Steve
and Bruce – who were both beaming, looking inordinately pleased with
themselves. “You all acted like I was supposed to walk away any minute!”
Thor tentatively put his hand out. “But we did not want you to,” he said
fiercely. “We wanted you to stay, and what better position could you have
within our pack beyond pack omega? Who else keeps food in the kitchen, our
rooms warm and comfortable, a roof over our head, an eye in the sky when we do
battle? Who else mends our equipment and keeps an eye on our other omegas? You
are the best choice, and we do not want to let you go so easily. We would – I
have had this, waiting, for us to see you through one heat and prove we can
satisfy and protect and care for you.” He unclasped his hands, and Tony didn’t
know where that box had come from, but it was covered in red velvet, with gold
thread embroidered over the cloth. Gently, Thor opened it to reveal a
beautifully thick choker, blue jewels winking inside the thick bands and red
jewels dangling in gold settings. It was a pack omega choker, a high honor.
Packs were made up, of course, of many different variations of betas, alphas,
and omegas, and to cut down on confusion when a pack formalized, they
designated one alpha (or beta, if there were no alphas) as pack alpha, the
person with the final say, and they designated one omega as pack omega, the
homemaker, the financial caretaker, the overseer of every material and
emotional issue that could affect the pack. In families, this often times
translated to a husband and wife, with the husband an alpha or beta who had
final say over large decisions that affected their way of living, and the wife
an omega or beta who had full control over the home, the children, the
finances, and the emotional well-being of the family. In larger packs, it was
harder to designate those positions in such clear, gender-defined lines. Tony
had never been a part of a large enough pack, but to be offered pack omega…
He stared at the choker.
“Well?” Clint asked, and Tony looked up to see him sitting nervously. “I mean,
if you don’t want it, of course, that’s your prerogative, but we’d, we’d really
like you. To say yes.”
Tony stared at him a long, long moment. “You said you guys didn’t want to be a
distraction to me.”
Clint winced, even as Natasha leveled an intense glare his way. “Yes, well. I
don’t think I was speaking in the clearest of manners. And I hear Steve put his
foot in his mouth, too.”
“I’m not – I’m not asking about Steve.”
Clint spread his hands helplessly. “You never – we don’t know much about your
relationships. You never wear jewelry, and you can buy yourself the best
jewelry, and we didn’t want to – we wanted you to have the best. That’s it. We
didn’t want to do something that would make you… not want us.”
“The only way,” Tony said quietly, “to make me ‘not want you’ is by making my
decisions for me. Such as telling me how I feel. Telling me how I’d react.
Without, you know. Letting me actually speak up. Or react.”
Something knocked against his ankle, and he turned to see Bruce tilt his head
at Steve. It took Tony a minute to remember that he was supposed to ask Steve
about the jewelry, whatever that meant, so he turned to Steve and cleared his
throat. “Bruce said to ask you about the jewelry?”
Steve went a little red. “Oh,” he said, and he ducked his head, because Steve
was still shy when it came to emotions. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “I, um.
I offered to help them pay for your jewelry, because they wanted to get you –
you know. Real gold, not the cheap stuff.”
“But – why?” Tony asked, bewildered. “I mean – look, you all know my
reputation. You didn’t have to – you didn’t, before, need to give me gifts to,
to sleep with me.”
“We want more than just sleeping with you, Tony,” Clint said heatedly, even as
Thor pushed the box closer to Tony.
“We want you. We want you to be part of our pack,” Natasha said decisively. “We
didn’t want a casual relationship. We wanted something permanent, with you.”
Tony stared at the box in front of him and then licked his lips. “Um. Well.” He
looked up at Thor. “I’m guessing you’re – you’re the pack alpha?”
“If you would have me as it,” Thor responded gravely.
Biting his lip, Tony pulled the box closer. “So, you should probably put this
around my neck, right?”
Thor broke into a large grin, and Clint let out an exhale of relief. Natasha
looked – well, not relieved, but definitely more relaxed, and both Bruce and
Steve were grinning widely.
When Thor moved up to clasp the choker and carefully wrap it around Tony’s
neck, Tony placed his hands on Thor’s wrists. “You – I can wear this in public,
right?”
“Tony, we would be honored if you chose to do so,” Bruce said, cutting off
Clint, who looked heated and murderous.
And perhaps they took advantage of Tony’s still-groggy post-heat state, or
perhaps Tony gave himself that excuse, because as they waited on him hand and
foot the whole rest of the day, the slowly tugged free the old stories, the old
hurt, and soothed it as best they could. And if he was worried that they would
suddenly treat him like a china figurine, well… Clint trouncing him at
MarioKart and Natasha scolding him severely for encouraging Thor and Steve’s
ridiculous prank wars soon put that fear to rest.
Diamonds, well, Tony knew more than most that they didn’t mean everything, not
really, not the way the stories and movies played it up, bedecking omegas out
in glittering white chips. But they sure meant something. Something enough that
meant within six months, he was looking for another jewelry chest – because his
old one was full of gifts from his new pack.
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