The Sky Full of Ghosts 9/? "Mail order omega in space" AU
(okay, I said I wasn’t gonna write the heat-sex with any detail, and then I wrote the heat-sex with some detail. TW for hormonal urges, instinctive behaviors, but with explicitly stated consent just beforehand)
It’s the smell that wakes Jamie up, his body’s reaction to it. The thick, hormone-laden smell of heat. His dick throbs in his shorts, heavy and ready.
“Jamie.” Tyler’s voice is hoarse, and Jamie raises the light in the room. Sees him lying flat and stiff in the bed. Sweat glistens at his temples and along his upper lip, across the bare line of his collar bone. He is exuding enticement from his very pores. Jamie clenches his jaw, tries not to breathe too deep. Not that it helps.
“Jamie,” Tyler says again, like the words are hard to get out. “If you. If this isn’t what you want, this is your last chance to go.”
“Are you sure?” Jamie asks. He’s pretty sure he could walk out if he needs to.
“Yeah. Yeah, Jamie. I’m sure.”
Tyler’s hand finds Jamie’s, grips tight. The room feels too still. Too quiet.
“Then I’m staying,” Jamie says, and breathes deep. Tyler rolls, his knees slotting in on either side of Jamie’s hips. He looks wild, fierce and desperate, and Jamie can’t imagine saying no to him like this, to denying him anything. Tyler grinds down, bellies together, dicks rubbing through the fabric. It feels. It feels overwhelmingly good, and Jamie can only credit the instinctual urge to be inside that he doesn’t come just from Tyler rubbing against him.
Tyler nips his jaw, and the part of Jamie’s mind that is still capable of thinking ahead knows there will be a bruise tomorrow, but he couldn’t care less at this point. He arches and Tyler starts fumbling with the sheets, trying to get bare skin.
“Please,” Tyler growls out. “Stupid fucking-”
Jamie yanks the bedding out from between them, holds Tyler back for just long enough to get his own shorts off. Tyler makes a wild growl in his throat and Jamie figures it’s up to him to get Tyler’s sleep pants off too, so he does. Wrestles with him when Tyler would rather fight to get to him than give Jamie the second of freedom it would take to get him naked.
Tyler presses chest-to-chest, licking at Jamie’s neck. Shifts his hips and leans back, then he’s sliding down on Jamie’s dick, his ass so slick and welcoming, ready to take Jamie.
Tyler breathes out, a soft sigh and the desperate tension in his body eases.
“Oh,” he says, soft and surprised, like he has no idea how he ended up there, but he’s pleased by this unexpected development. “Oh, Jamie.”
Jamie runs his hands up Tyler’s stomach and chest. Holding him up. Tyler shifts and gasps, his eyes showing edges of white underneath the brown of his irises as they roll back.
Jamie pets him, arches under him, driving in as Tyler is coming down. They find a rhythm together, hard but not particularly fast.
The orgasm hits Jamie like a supernova, a brightness that sweeps through his mind and body and goes on and on. He’s aware of Tyler above him, Tyler around him, clenching and shaking, wet spatters hot against Jamie’s stomach. Tyler’s hand smearing it over his chest and throat.
“More,” Tyler pants, and Jamie wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but they don’t stop. He flips them over, Tyler under him, knees up by Jamie’s ribs.
They don’t stop, and Jamie loses himself in the act, in the rush of pheromones, in the sweet welcome of Tyler’s body, in Tyler’s urgent begging every time he thinks he might stop. He loses count of the orgasms. Loses track of time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever. He sleeps, his dick in Tyler’s ass, slowly rocking them together, soft shallow thrusts.
Thirst wakes Jamie the next time, his head dizzy and aching like a hangover has caught him before all the alcohol has left his system. His mouth tastes like ass. Literally.
He groans and Tyler rolls over onto his back, lets out a heartfelt “Fuuuuck” that sends a thread of worry through Jamie’s heart. He’d been sure, that it was what he wanted, that he’d given Tyler every possible way out if it wasn’t what Tyler wanted. But what if he’d done it wrong? What if Tyler was hurt, or regretted it.
“Hey.” Jamie’s voice is hoarse, hard to keep his words soft and still get them out at all. Tyler blinks at the ceiling above them. He looks dazed, slow-headed. “You okay?”
A slow smile spreads across Tyler’s lips, and Jamie’s worries dissipate. He kisses the bare swell of Tyler’s shoulder and then gets up, goes to the crate of ‘emergency supplies’ that Roussel had put together and brings back a pair of water bottles. Tyler takes his with a grateful smile and props himself up just enough to drink without spilling it all over himself. He drains the whole thing in one go, closes his eyes and flops back down.
“You sure you’re okay?” Jamie asks.
That sweet smile returns and Jamie lays himself back on the bed.
“Sore,” Tyler says, “but it’s better than when I was taking care of it myself. You were gentle, and very kind.” He says it like a code, like it means something more. Like Jamie has passed a test he didn’t know he was taking. Jamie feels like he can lean in, rest his hand at Tyler’s waist, nuzzle into his hair and smell the new scent, Tyler’s pheromones rearranged to compliment Jamie’s. He smells like home, like welcome and safety. He smells claimed, and it settles something in Jamie, that Tyler is safe now, that the other alphas will know Tyler is not for them.
“Is it over?” Jamie asks, hoping Tyler is feeling the same peaceful contentment he is. He isn’t sure he could perform again if he needed to, if he has anything left to give without a day or two’s rest.
Tyler hums, covers Jamie’s hand with his own. He seems satisfied. “This was good. This was really good.”
===========
They spend half a day recovering, lounging around and watching some vids. Eating. Jamie can’t seem to keep his hands off of Tyler, can’t stop scenting him. Tyler leans into his touches in return, presses his nose to Jamie’s throat, takes soft licks of his skin. They get up to shower eventually, and the smell of their shared orgasms fades a little.
Tyler strips the bed while Jamie is washing up. He’s looking at the bundle oddly when Jamie comes out, hair dripping, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. He blinks himself out of the daze though, looks lost enough that Jamie aches to hold him. It takes a second for Jamie to realize that he can hold Tyler, so he does, walking up and wrapping him in his arms.
“I know we sent the other laundry to be cleaned on Ligos station,” Tyler starts, and Jamie sees the problem. Letting this out of their hands, out of their control, doesn’t feel safe. Even with Jamie’s alpha-scent all over it, there is nothing more intimately Tyler than this pile of cloth. The idea of letting a stranger handle it is almost obscene.
Jamie runs through the possible solutions. “I’ll com Rouss and Hils to come back,” he says. “Rouss is from here-he’ll know where the locals go to wash, a place where you do it yourself. We’ll take those two with us, in case there’s trouble.” It’s silly to plan a laundry trip like a special op, but better to plan for dangers that never materialize than to walk blind into some kind of mess.
“Oh,” Tyler says, and he sounds-surprised and pleased, like Jamie is doing more than safeguarding some laundry, like Jamie has given him an unexpected and valuable gift. He leans back against Jamie’s chest, and it feels good, good like Jamie doesn’t want it to end.
“Hey,” he says, soft. “There aren’t many omegas out here.”
Tyler twists so he can see Jamie without losing contact, a frown of inquiry between his eyebrows.
Jamie huffs. “I mean, there’s nobody to tell me how to do this. What you need. What you want. So if you do. Want or need something, just ask, okay? I’ll make sure you get it or understand why it’s hard.”
Tyler swallows, so loud Jamie can hear it.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Yeah. I’ll try to.”
Jamie kisses over his ear and hugs him one last time, loving the feel of Tyler strong and tall and solid in his arms before he lets him go to start Operation: Clean Sheets.
Getting Roussel and Knight back to the ship is as easy as he expected. Rouss cocks his head like he’s not hearing Jamie right, that he doesn’t get why they’re taking their laundry to wash themselves instead of having a service come by like they usually do, but he gets with the plan quick enough when Tyler hugs the bundle to his chest at the thought.
So they go out, the four of them, the laundry wrapped in plastic to contain some of the pheromones. It’s the first time Jamie has been off of the ship with Tyler. The last time Tyler went out, Jamie had thought of it as letting Tyler get away from him as much as a chance to breathe different air and stretch his legs.
This time Jamie gets to be with him, watching Tyler experience the station for the first time. Jamie thinks he’s making a good show of seeming calm, head held high and listening to Roussel complain about the terrible room he’d had to spend the night at. The cracks show though, that this is the first time Tyler’s been here, that he doesn’t feel secure. His eyes dart around, just a sliver more of the whites of his eyes showing than when he’s actually relaxed.
An alpha is just coming down the ramp to the ship in the repair bay next to the Star, and must catch a whiff of Tyler, the bundle of heat he’s carrying. He’s tall, older than Jamie. His steps falter, confused for a moment before the not for you-not for you of Tyler’s newly bonded scent comes through. His head goes down, and Jamie can see his shoulders hitch before he turns sharply on his heel and goes back into the ship.
“Hey,” Hilary says, “The shop where we found the strawberries is on the way. They’re growing tomatoes in a hydroponic rig; you can smell them growing before you even see them.”
“Can we get some?” Tyler asks. “Tomatoes yeah, but more strawberries too?”
They walk past the open airlock where the alpha had been. Jamie doesn’t turn that way, afraid any attempt at a sympathetic glance would seem gloating. He knows that before Tyler came, he would have taken it bad if a newly bonded alpha had so much as looked at him.
Roussel leads them to the laundromat, and Jamie slides his credit chip as Tyler feeds the corner of the first sheet into the rollers. By the time he’s put the last piece in, the first has been through the sonic and the vac and a light spritz of enzymes and is coming out the other side. Jamie folds the clean laundry and puts it in one of the pillow cases. Roussel takes the plastic it had been wrapped in and almost gives it to one of the ubiquitous gleaners, people trying to scrape a living together by reusing and reselling the scraps of those who are better off.
“No!” Jamie says, and Roussel’s hand changes direction. The gleaner flinches back, a girl Jamie thinks, thin and dirty. Tyler takes the plastic and folds it up. Jamie fishes in his pocket and finds a small pry-tool, one of dozens he found while cleaning out his room. It’s a better find than the sheet of plastic, and he tosses it to the gleaner. She snatches it out of the air and gives him a small nod of respect.
Tyler watches, jaw tight and eyes wide.
“They not have gleaners in the core?” Roussel asks when she’s gone.
Tyler shrugs. “I…” He glances sidelong at Jamie and then looks away like the conversation is over. “Can we go get something to eat? Like real food?”
“Yeah.” Jamie takes the plastic, folds it small and stuffs it in his pocket. Hilary starts leading the way to the food-sellers.
Roussel shoots Jamie a look behind Tyler’s back, confused and a little worried.
Jamie can only shrug back. He has no idea what the hell just happened either.
It’s the smell that wakes Jamie up, his body’s reaction to it. The thick, hormone-laden smell of heat. His dick throbs in his shorts, heavy and ready.
“Jamie.” Tyler’s voice is hoarse, and Jamie raises the light in the room. Sees him lying flat and stiff in the bed. Sweat glistens at his temples and along his upper lip, across the bare line of his collar bone. He is exuding enticement from his very pores. Jamie clenches his jaw, tries not to breathe too deep. Not that it helps.
“Jamie,” Tyler says again, like the words are hard to get out. “If you. If this isn’t what you want, this is your last chance to go.”
“Are you sure?” Jamie asks. He’s pretty sure he could walk out if he needs to.
“Yeah. Yeah, Jamie. I’m sure.”
Tyler’s hand finds Jamie’s, grips tight. The room feels too still. Too quiet.
“Then I’m staying,” Jamie says, and breathes deep. Tyler rolls, his knees slotting in on either side of Jamie’s hips. He looks wild, fierce and desperate, and Jamie can’t imagine saying no to him like this, to denying him anything. Tyler grinds down, bellies together, dicks rubbing through the fabric. It feels. It feels overwhelmingly good, and Jamie can only credit the instinctual urge to be inside that he doesn’t come just from Tyler rubbing against him.
Tyler nips his jaw, and the part of Jamie’s mind that is still capable of thinking ahead knows there will be a bruise tomorrow, but he couldn’t care less at this point. He arches and Tyler starts fumbling with the sheets, trying to get bare skin.
“Please,” Tyler growls out. “Stupid fucking-”
Jamie yanks the bedding out from between them, holds Tyler back for just long enough to get his own shorts off. Tyler makes a wild growl in his throat and Jamie figures it’s up to him to get Tyler’s sleep pants off too, so he does. Wrestles with him when Tyler would rather fight to get to him than give Jamie the second of freedom it would take to get him naked.
Tyler presses chest-to-chest, licking at Jamie’s neck. Shifts his hips and leans back, then he’s sliding down on Jamie’s dick, his ass so slick and welcoming, ready to take Jamie.
Tyler breathes out, a soft sigh and the desperate tension in his body eases.
“Oh,” he says, soft and surprised, like he has no idea how he ended up there, but he’s pleased by this unexpected development. “Oh, Jamie.”
Jamie runs his hands up Tyler’s stomach and chest. Holding him up. Tyler shifts and gasps, his eyes showing edges of white underneath the brown of his irises as they roll back.
Jamie pets him, arches under him, driving in as Tyler is coming down. They find a rhythm together, hard but not particularly fast.
The orgasm hits Jamie like a supernova, a brightness that sweeps through his mind and body and goes on and on. He’s aware of Tyler above him, Tyler around him, clenching and shaking, wet spatters hot against Jamie’s stomach. Tyler’s hand smearing it over his chest and throat.
“More,” Tyler pants, and Jamie wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but they don’t stop. He flips them over, Tyler under him, knees up by Jamie’s ribs.
They don’t stop, and Jamie loses himself in the act, in the rush of pheromones, in the sweet welcome of Tyler’s body, in Tyler’s urgent begging every time he thinks he might stop. He loses count of the orgasms. Loses track of time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever. He sleeps, his dick in Tyler’s ass, slowly rocking them together, soft shallow thrusts.
Thirst wakes Jamie the next time, his head dizzy and aching like a hangover has caught him before all the alcohol has left his system. His mouth tastes like ass. Literally.
He groans and Tyler rolls over onto his back, lets out a heartfelt “Fuuuuck” that sends a thread of worry through Jamie’s heart. He’d been sure, that it was what he wanted, that he’d given Tyler every possible way out if it wasn’t what Tyler wanted. But what if he’d done it wrong? What if Tyler was hurt, or regretted it.
“Hey.” Jamie’s voice is hoarse, hard to keep his words soft and still get them out at all. Tyler blinks at the ceiling above them. He looks dazed, slow-headed. “You okay?”
A slow smile spreads across Tyler’s lips, and Jamie’s worries dissipate. He kisses the bare swell of Tyler’s shoulder and then gets up, goes to the crate of ‘emergency supplies’ that Roussel had put together and brings back a pair of water bottles. Tyler takes his with a grateful smile and props himself up just enough to drink without spilling it all over himself. He drains the whole thing in one go, closes his eyes and flops back down.
“You sure you’re okay?” Jamie asks.
That sweet smile returns and Jamie lays himself back on the bed.
“Sore,” Tyler says, “but it’s better than when I was taking care of it myself. You were gentle, and very kind.” He says it like a code, like it means something more. Like Jamie has passed a test he didn’t know he was taking. Jamie feels like he can lean in, rest his hand at Tyler’s waist, nuzzle into his hair and smell the new scent, Tyler’s pheromones rearranged to compliment Jamie’s. He smells like home, like welcome and safety. He smells claimed, and it settles something in Jamie, that Tyler is safe now, that the other alphas will know Tyler is not for them.
“Is it over?” Jamie asks, hoping Tyler is feeling the same peaceful contentment he is. He isn’t sure he could perform again if he needed to, if he has anything left to give without a day or two’s rest.
Tyler hums, covers Jamie’s hand with his own. He seems satisfied. “This was good. This was really good.”
===========
They spend half a day recovering, lounging around and watching some vids. Eating. Jamie can’t seem to keep his hands off of Tyler, can’t stop scenting him. Tyler leans into his touches in return, presses his nose to Jamie’s throat, takes soft licks of his skin. They get up to shower eventually, and the smell of their shared orgasms fades a little.
Tyler strips the bed while Jamie is washing up. He’s looking at the bundle oddly when Jamie comes out, hair dripping, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. He blinks himself out of the daze though, looks lost enough that Jamie aches to hold him. It takes a second for Jamie to realize that he can hold Tyler, so he does, walking up and wrapping him in his arms.
“I know we sent the other laundry to be cleaned on Ligos station,” Tyler starts, and Jamie sees the problem. Letting this out of their hands, out of their control, doesn’t feel safe. Even with Jamie’s alpha-scent all over it, there is nothing more intimately Tyler than this pile of cloth. The idea of letting a stranger handle it is almost obscene.
Jamie runs through the possible solutions. “I’ll com Rouss and Hils to come back,” he says. “Rouss is from here-he’ll know where the locals go to wash, a place where you do it yourself. We’ll take those two with us, in case there’s trouble.” It’s silly to plan a laundry trip like a special op, but better to plan for dangers that never materialize than to walk blind into some kind of mess.
“Oh,” Tyler says, and he sounds-surprised and pleased, like Jamie is doing more than safeguarding some laundry, like Jamie has given him an unexpected and valuable gift. He leans back against Jamie’s chest, and it feels good, good like Jamie doesn’t want it to end.
“Hey,” he says, soft. “There aren’t many omegas out here.”
Tyler twists so he can see Jamie without losing contact, a frown of inquiry between his eyebrows.
Jamie huffs. “I mean, there’s nobody to tell me how to do this. What you need. What you want. So if you do. Want or need something, just ask, okay? I’ll make sure you get it or understand why it’s hard.”
Tyler swallows, so loud Jamie can hear it.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Yeah. I’ll try to.”
Jamie kisses over his ear and hugs him one last time, loving the feel of Tyler strong and tall and solid in his arms before he lets him go to start Operation: Clean Sheets.
Getting Roussel and Knight back to the ship is as easy as he expected. Rouss cocks his head like he’s not hearing Jamie right, that he doesn’t get why they’re taking their laundry to wash themselves instead of having a service come by like they usually do, but he gets with the plan quick enough when Tyler hugs the bundle to his chest at the thought.
So they go out, the four of them, the laundry wrapped in plastic to contain some of the pheromones. It’s the first time Jamie has been off of the ship with Tyler. The last time Tyler went out, Jamie had thought of it as letting Tyler get away from him as much as a chance to breathe different air and stretch his legs.
This time Jamie gets to be with him, watching Tyler experience the station for the first time. Jamie thinks he’s making a good show of seeming calm, head held high and listening to Roussel complain about the terrible room he’d had to spend the night at. The cracks show though, that this is the first time Tyler’s been here, that he doesn’t feel secure. His eyes dart around, just a sliver more of the whites of his eyes showing than when he’s actually relaxed.
An alpha is just coming down the ramp to the ship in the repair bay next to the Star, and must catch a whiff of Tyler, the bundle of heat he’s carrying. He’s tall, older than Jamie. His steps falter, confused for a moment before the not for you-not for you of Tyler’s newly bonded scent comes through. His head goes down, and Jamie can see his shoulders hitch before he turns sharply on his heel and goes back into the ship.
“Hey,” Hilary says, “The shop where we found the strawberries is on the way. They’re growing tomatoes in a hydroponic rig; you can smell them growing before you even see them.”
“Can we get some?” Tyler asks. “Tomatoes yeah, but more strawberries too?”
They walk past the open airlock where the alpha had been. Jamie doesn’t turn that way, afraid any attempt at a sympathetic glance would seem gloating. He knows that before Tyler came, he would have taken it bad if a newly bonded alpha had so much as looked at him.
Roussel leads them to the laundromat, and Jamie slides his credit chip as Tyler feeds the corner of the first sheet into the rollers. By the time he’s put the last piece in, the first has been through the sonic and the vac and a light spritz of enzymes and is coming out the other side. Jamie folds the clean laundry and puts it in one of the pillow cases. Roussel takes the plastic it had been wrapped in and almost gives it to one of the ubiquitous gleaners, people trying to scrape a living together by reusing and reselling the scraps of those who are better off.
“No!” Jamie says, and Roussel’s hand changes direction. The gleaner flinches back, a girl Jamie thinks, thin and dirty. Tyler takes the plastic and folds it up. Jamie fishes in his pocket and finds a small pry-tool, one of dozens he found while cleaning out his room. It’s a better find than the sheet of plastic, and he tosses it to the gleaner. She snatches it out of the air and gives him a small nod of respect.
Tyler watches, jaw tight and eyes wide.
“They not have gleaners in the core?” Roussel asks when she’s gone.
Tyler shrugs. “I…” He glances sidelong at Jamie and then looks away like the conversation is over. “Can we go get something to eat? Like real food?”
“Yeah.” Jamie takes the plastic, folds it small and stuffs it in his pocket. Hilary starts leading the way to the food-sellers.
Roussel shoots Jamie a look behind Tyler’s back, confused and a little worried.
Jamie can only shrug back. He has no idea what the hell just happened either.