Chapter Text
It’s a sign of how messed up the world is that the safest place Phainon and Khaos have ever been in is the Syndicate, the most feared and dreaded crime organization in the country, just because they were born omegas. Twin omegas, a rare find—it was a nightmare for Khaslana to keep them out of the kennels after their parents passed in an accident.
Having just reached majority and barely an adult himself, Khaslana struggled to obtain legal guardianship of the twins. There were too many other interested parties obstructing the process, trying to take the boys for their own, to be bought and sold as chattel. In desperation, Khaslana claimed both his little brothers as their alpha. It wasn’t exactly legal for a blood relation to claim them, but it wasn’t illegal either with how meager omega rights were.
The first time Phainon had a heat was a mess of miscommunication. Khaslana took care of him, but acted restrainedly, wracked with guilt for feeling desire for his little brother. They only had a gap of two years, but it was wrong. “Is this okay?” Khaslana kept asking Phainon, his touch hesitant. Little did he know that Phainon had always secretly wanted Khaslana as his alpha since before the claiming, and desired Khaslana just as much. Sensing Khaslana’s resistance, Phainon thought Khaslana didn’t want him and was forcing himself to do this for his sake.
They had both been miserable. It was Khaos who lost his temper with them, calling them out on their behavior and making them talk it out properly. To Khaos’ annoyance, the subsequent reveal of their sentiments for each other resulted in a deluge of tears but, satisfactorily, Khaslana and Phainon also confirmed their feelings, becoming real mates.
As for Khaos, he was ambivalent about sex. Frankly, he hated his biology and considered it his worst enemy. Heats were miserable and degrading, only made tolerable by Phainon and Khaslana’s soothing; they were the only people he could stand to be touched by.
Omegas were slaves to their biology, unable to resist the draw of an alpha during their Time, but Khaos was an anomaly, a freak. If any alpha other than Khaslana brought their dick near him while he was in heat, he would do his level best to rip it off. For him, sometimes heats could be pleasant, but most of the time they were just something to be tolerated.
But… Khaos did like being held by Khaslana. Though he never explicitly said it, he loved Khaslana too and was glad to be mated to him with Phainon. The twins were polar opposites in personality, but they did everything together, and this was no different.
Despite that, being formally mated to Khaslana still wasn’t sufficient protection. After the second time the twins were nearly snatched, Khaslana turned to someone unimaginable—Nanook, Boss of the Syndicate.
By chance, their paths crossed a year prior in a misunderstanding. Khaslana was passing through the streets of the lower districts after a late night at work when he heard a distressed cry for help, and saw a hulking brute of a man holding a delicate-looking youth by the collar in the shadow of an alleyway. Later, he learned that person was a rat but, at the time, Khaslana had only seen someone in need. In the following altercation, Khaslana was thoroughly beaten but managed to scratch the man’s face. Rather than being offended, Nanook was impressed. He gave Khaslana his name and left his business card in his shaking hands.
Now, the three of them live in Nanook’s house. Khaslana and Nanook got off to a rocky start, making Phainon and Khaos worry endlessly over what their stoic elder brother might be enduring for their sake, not trusting in Khaslana’s reassurances. To their relief, Khaslana’s relationship with Nanook quickly improved and they could see that although Khaslana continued to put on a show of reluctance, he had become relaxed around this person and actually liked him. It helped that Nanook waited until this point—when Khaslana was comfortable with him—before taking him to bed. Otherwise, Phainon and Khaos would never have given their approval.
Turned enforcer for Nanook, Khaslana’s demeanor became colder towards everyone except family, but he swore to Phainon and Khaos that Nanook wasn’t making him do anything he couldn’t live with, his missions primarily involving clashes with other criminals.
Unbeknownst to them, Khaslana gave Nanook an ultimatum at the outset: if Nanook crossed his bottom line, he would take his brothers and leave. In reality, it was a meaningless threat when Nanook held so much power but, to Khaslana’s surprise, Nanook abided his terms. He wasn’t kind, but he respected Khaslana’s boundaries, and that was more than enough.
**
It’s a year later before Khaslana tentatively lets Nanook help with Phainon and Khaos’ heats. Phainon is shyly interested while Khaos is pragmatic. The two omegas’ heats frequently sync up, and the two of them together is too much for Khaslana to handle with how busy he is these days.
To be honest, they’re all more or less expecting it to be a disaster, especially given Khaos’ intolerance of other alphas, but their test run goes astonishingly well. They’re all in Nanook’s massive bed, Khaslana embracing Khaos while Nanook takes Phainon under the two’s watchful eye.
Phainon isn’t given time to feel self-conscious. The moment he’s shed the last piece of clothing, Nanook is lifting Phainon into his lap, as easy as if he’s handling a kitten rather than six feet plus of solid muscle. Nanook guides Phainon’s knees to either side of his hips, distracting him with a heated kiss; no warning given before Nanook plunges two fingers into his sopping pussy. Letting out a startled moan into Nanook’s mouth, Phainon spreads his legs and pushes down into the touch. Starting to be affected by heat haze, he only vaguely registers the way Nanook’s gaze turns calculative. Phainon whines when Nanook withdraws, leaving him empty, but it soon turns into a pitched cry when four fingers are shoved into his cunt. The fingers spread in a perfunctory check and then Nanook puts Phainon on his back on the sheets, pushes his knees up, and proceeds to fuck him hard, each thrust slamming in as deep as he can go, punching Phainon up the bed. Almost instantly, Phainon squeals and comes. Nanook doesn’t pause, fucking him through his orgasm. Guiding Phainon’s legs around his waist, he blankets him with his body, and takes his mouth in a hot, languid kiss.
And, just like that, Phainon blooms for him, open and wanting, arching into his touch, desperate for it.
The thing is, Phainon likes it rough and, while Khaslana indulges him, he could never bear to be as harsh as Phainon would like. Nor does Phainon ever ask for more, knowing it would be outside Khaslana’s comfort zone.
Khaslana and Khaos are initially worried, seeing Nanook treating Phainon so roughly—grip tight on his throat as he takes him on his back, pulling his head back by the hair as he fucks into him from behind. But Phainon clearly loves it, and then it’s just insanely erotic, seeing Phainon go full sex kitten for Nanook, pliant and submissive, pretty baby blues gone misty as he begs shamelessly to be knotted and bred.
It gets Khaslana and Khaos so hot and bothered that, for once, Khaos is in agreement with his body’s needs. Khaos rides Khaslana hard, his back pressed to Khaslana’s chest, both their gazes fixed on where Phainon is being taken on his hands and knees, face pressed to the sheets, mouth open and drooling. Seeing Khaslana and Khaos watching, Nanook’s attention lingers on the pretty view of Khaos working himself down on Khaslana for a moment, and then he’s dragging Phainon up by the throat, back into his lap. Hooking his hands beneath Phainon’s knees he spreads him wide so the other two have a perfect view of the huge length plundering Phainon’s pussy, pale thighs glistening. Phainon’s cunt is so dripping wet that clear fluids splash onto the sheets every time Nanook goes in, each thrust punching little “Ah, Ah, Ah’s” out of him.
Drowning in ecstasy, Phainon’s dewy gaze meets Khaos’. “Khaos,” he moans, reaching for his twin.
Slowing his movements, Khaos tugs on Khaslana’s arm. “’Lana,” he says, a request, and Khaslana is already scooping him up, carrying him over. When they get close enough, Khaos grabs Phainon’s hand, and then they’re kissing, pressed chest to chest, the two fluffy white heads bent together, slick red mouths sliding together.
“Gods, you two are gorgeous,” Khaslana says breathlessly.
“Beautiful,” Nanook agrees, and Phainon shivers feeling that deep rumble against his back, inside him, and groans into Khaos’ mouth.
Seeing the heat in Nanook’s eyes as he watches the twins kiss, Khaslana is unable to resist, pressing Khaos further into Phainon as he leans up to steal a kiss of his own from Nanook, slow and deep. When he draws back, he smiles to see the twins watching him and Nanook, pupils of their baby blues blown. “Up on your knees,” Khaslana tells Khaos, running his hands down his flanks. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he orders, voice gone deep with arousal. Khaos isn’t normally obedient, but he goes easily this time, unusually aroused and moaning softly as Khaslana pushes back into him.
As the twins are fucked together, Phainon and Khaos mouth at each other, kissing or licking or biting at lips and neck and chest, their hands wandering. Khaos’ curious fingers go down to feel where Nanook and Phainon are joined, stroking over the slick folds, getting a whine from Phainon and a warning growl from Nanook. Knowing Phainon is close, Khaos abruptly slides his hand up to meanly pinch Phainon’s clit, kneading the nub. Immediately, Phainon is climaxing with a loud cry, nails digging into Khaos’ shoulders. As Phainon’s body clamps down, Nanook is pulled over the edge with him. Nanook’s large palm closes over Phainon’s throat and then he’s hilting himself deep, knot swelling up to lock him inside as he pumps his seed into Phainon’s womb. Phainon whimpers as the knot stretches him to the limit, a wave of euphoria rushing through him as hot come hits the walls of his uterus, a warm, deeply satisfying fullness welling up inside. Fucked dumb, Phainon still remembers to return the favor, reaching down to rub Khaos’ clit, rolling it between his fingers until Khaos is biting at Phainon’s slack mouth, shuddering all over as Khaslana drives him over the peak and knots him.
When the twins have gone slack with bliss, Nanook and Khaslana ease them onto their sides to be bred, letting them cuddle together while they wait for the knots to go down.
Khaos has his head buried against Phainon’s shoulder, hiding his face.
Recognizing Khaos’ embarrassment, Khaslana silently squeezes his hip in question. Khaos’ hand moves to his, briefly twining their fingers together before slipping away. Relieved, Khaslana relaxes, leaning over to check on Phainon. He runs his fingers through the damp white strands of Phainon’s hair, tucking a lock behind his ear. “Alright, sweetheart?”
“Mmhm.” Phainon’s answering smile is so sweet that Khaslana has to kiss it.
“Feels good?” Khaslana whispers knowingly.
“It’s so good, ‘Lana.” Sighing in pleasure, Phainon rolls his hips a little, gasping at the grind of the knot against his sensitive inner walls. His thighs tense at the sensation, body tightening around the huge girth inside.
Khaslana chuckles. “Brace yourself.”
“What do you—Ah!” Phainon’s lidded eyes fly open, his shocked cry turning into a long keen as Nanook fucks him on his knot.
“You little minx,” Nanook growls.
“No, I—Hn! Oh—” Phainon’s protest dissolves into pitched moans.
Khaos’ head jerks up from Phainon’s shoulder, wide eyed with awe that Phainon can take this too. And Phainon isn’t just taking it, he’s loving it, writhing and moaning like a whore, his pretty nipples peaked with arousal. Nanook is so huge that Khaos can see where he’s moving inside Phainon. Without thinking, he touches the soft skin of Phainon’s belly, feeling the bulge of Nanook’s cock, the knot, and freezes when Nanook’s golden, predatory gaze snaps to him.
“Kiss him,” Nanook demands. His voice doesn’t have the push of an alpha’s command behind it but Khaos hurries to obey, licking into Phainon’s lax mouth.
After that, Phainon needs an extended break, their alphas going to bring them snacks and water.
The real test is to follow.
Khaslana has Phainon in his arms, back against the headboard. Khaos sits at their side, eyeing the man across from him warily. Nanook watches him in return. Even when Nanook is calm like this, there’s a constant air of silent menace about him that never really goes away.
But his primary concern is the monstrosity between Nanook’s legs. Examining the thing, his mouth twists into a grimace.
Phainon must be a masochist, taking that, Khaos thinks glumly. They haven’t done anything and he already wants to call it off. He can feel the demands of his heat building again but it’s back to “normal” now—out of sync with what he actually wants.
Seeing his hesitation, Khaslana hooks Khaos waist, reeling him in. He presses a soft kiss to Khaos’ lips. “Let’s just continue like this, okay? I’ll stay with you, and Nanook can take care of Phainon.”
“Yeah,” Phainon chimes in quickly. “I—” he flushes, darting a quick look at Nanook. “I don’t mind.”
“No,” Khaos says grimly. “I want to try.” He’d rather know, once and for all, especially if Phainon is going to get involved with Nanook.
“Khaos, you don’t have to,” Khaslana says gently.
“I know.”
In the tense silence that follows, Khaos and Nanook study each other.
Nanook holds out a hand to him, waiting.
Khaos dawdles, but Nanook’s expression doesn’t change, not withdrawing his open palm.
If he doesn’t like it, he can just tell Nanook to stop, Khaos reminds himself. Even if Nanook’s control doesn’t turn out to be as extraordinary as Khaslana claims, it’ll be three against one.
Khaos crawls over to him, putting his hand in Nanook’s. His muscles are tight, expecting to be hauled around, but Nanook doesn’t do anything, just watches him with that uncomfortably intense gaze, holding his hand—what the fuck.
“Do something,” he mutters.
As if waiting for the cue, Nanook lightly touches Khaos’ jaw, tilting him for a kiss.
It’s just a brush of lips, lingering.
“Do you want me or not?” Khaos growls, starting to feel irritated.
“It’s you who doesn’t want me,” Nanook says, deep and calm, a statement, and Khaos’ heart jolts for no good reason.
“Let’s see if I can change your mind.”
“…What do you want to do?”
“Lie down.”
Nanook follows him down, guiding Khaos’ feet over his shoulders to rest on his back.
Oh. This…might work? It’s one of Khaslana’s go-to methods for coaxing Khaos into enjoying himself.
Khaos is prepared to be eaten out. He is not prepared for Nanook to spread his cunt wide and go at him like a man starved, skillful tongue delving so deep, lapping at quivering walls until they gush an abundance of clear fluid. Nanook keeps at it, persistent, feasting between Khaos’ thighs until his spine is bowing, heels digging into Nanook’s back and thighs clamped around his face. He brings Khaos off once like that, and then once more on his fingers. Khaos’ legs are quivering by then, panting for breath with his arm thrown over his face to hide it because, despite the convincing sound of the other two’s lovemaking, he knows Khaslana and Phainon are peeking at them.
“Fuck,” Khaos says, with feeling. When he flops his arm to the side, Nanook is braced over him, waiting. His scent curls in the air between them; open flame and rusted blood, overlain with a deep, primal musk, unreasonably alluring. Disgruntled, Khaos knees Nanook in the ribs. Nanook doesn’t even pretend to feel it, the bastard. “Fine, come on then.”
When Nanook takes him, it’s nothing like how he was with Phainon. It’s sweet and slow, Khaos cradled in his arms as he goes deep. Khaos hates how much he loves it, how ridiculously good it is. He spares a second of irritation at Khaslana, because Khaslana must have told Nanook what Khaos likes—which, fine, is reasonable—but it’s still mortifying. The aggravation lasts no more than a second, because Nanook proceeds to steadily fuck Khaos into complete incoherency with commendable dedication.
Later, Khaos grudgingly gives Nanook a score of “Pass,” blissed out on his knot with every last bit of dignity fucked out of him. He would never have guessed Nanook could do—do—this kind of sex. It’s unsettling until he figures out that Nanook was probably having a good old time taking him to pieces. Maybe the guy isn’t picky about the method. He shivers when Nanook noses at his nape, and shudders out a breath when the thick knot shifts inside, rubbing up against his walls. He can’t help biting his lip, shifting his hips. He’s been bred so well that thick come sloshes inside his womb at the motion. It’s so good that he’s shaking a little, overwhelmed. He’s grateful when Phai and Khaslana come over, gentling him through it with their touch and kisses.
It starts out as just the occasional helping hand with their ruts, but the twins find themselves increasingly entangled, always welcome to go to Nanook if they (mostly Phainon, really) want more.
**
As Zephyro likes to tell it, he was just a hapless passerby, dragged into their mess.
It started when the brothers first came to the Syndicate. The general public considers omegas to be brainless breeders. As a consequence, there’s a heavy stigma against educating them, essentially excluded from schooling.
Neither Phainon nor Khaos have any interest in spending their lives warming someone’s bed. They want to learn, and Khaslana and their parents have always been fully in support of this, homeschooling the twins and supplementing their lessons with online courses.
Now, with Nanook’s name behind them, it’s no difficulty to get the twins into school.
The flagrant prejudice, however, remains. Khaos gets into a lot of fights, and many of them aren’t started by him. Phainon gets into a lot of fights, sometimes because he’s protecting Khaos, sometimes because others picked a fight with him. Khaslana is furious about it, confronting the headmaster. Subsequently, there’s a slight improvement, the teachers intervening on occasion.
One day, Zephyro shows up and—that’s all it takes, the bullying ends.
When it happens, Phainon and Khaos are putting down another group of bigots. It’s more annoying than difficult. The bastards are no match for them, but they never learn, seeming to get more worked up each time they have their asses handed to them by “sissy omegas”. Khaos has a brute by the collar, about to punch him in his idiotic face when Zephyro arrives. The first Khaos knows of Zephyro’s presence is the bone-chilling killing intent that swamps the schoolyard, an oppressive force that can only be topped by Nanook. It’s the harrowing sensation of imminent peril—the icy, razor-sharp steel of a blade at your throat, a guillotine hanging over your head about to fall. Even Zephyro’s scent is sharp, crisp with ozone, like lightning and scorched earth.
The guy Khaos is holding pisses his pants. He’s probably not the only one.
Nose wrinkling at the foul scent, Khaos drops him, disgusted.
Phainon is the only one who doesn’t stop despite the suppression, tossing the alpha trying to grab him from behind over his shoulder and planting him into the ground. Only then does he ask, “Mister Zephyro?” his voice uncertain. They’ve only met Zephyro once when he was introduced to them as Khaslana’s combat instructor.
Zephyro walks over, his expression is impassive. At this moment, he only has eyes for Phainon and Khaos, not sparing the rest a glance. “Go get cleaned up and wait for me at the gates. I have people to talk to.”
“You’re here to pick us up?” Khaos asks. The alpha’s tyrannical pressure is even more ruthless at this proximity and he’s sweating under it, his knees wanting to crumble out from under him, but he refuses to let it show.
“Mm,” Zephyro confirms. There’s a flicker of interest in his eyes, seeing the two omegas standing tall under his intimidation, while the group of senseless alphas and betas cringe on the ground.
Khaos bristles. “We can handle it ourselves.”
“I know you can.”
The twins stare, stunned by the matter-of-fact confidence in Zephyro’s voice, as if the rest of the world wouldn’t consider two omegas fighting off a group of alphas a joke, even with the proof right in front of their faces.
“But you don’t have to,” Zephyro continues curtly. “Boss’ orders. I’m not giving you a choice.” He pauses, seeming to notice something in their expressions, though Khaos isn’t sure what. “It’s not a bother. This is just going for a stroll for me.”
That startles a giggle out of Phainon. Even Khaos laughs a little, incredulous.
Zephyro “talks” to the relevant students, teachers, and headmaster. Khaos and Phainon never find out what he said to them. But, after that, the bullies avoid them, their teachers fearfully obsequious.
Up until then, Khaos hadn’t known Nanook was keeping an eye on them. He figured the Syndicate boss just considered them Khaslana’s extra baggage.
Later, he thinks that Nanook simply started to consider them his people.
Khaslana was Nanook’s person, so they were as well.
**
It’s quite the impression Zephyro leaves on them. He’s an alpha, but he’s different from the others, the only one the twins have seen that doesn’t react to them at all, even when they’re close to their heat. They learn from the gossip mill that Zephyro isn’t interested in sex. That he considers his ruts a nuisance to be taken care of like an odious task. It’s not like they haven’t heard of asexuality and graysexuality—Khaslana had given them a mortifying sex talk when they both came of age which included this topic, knowing Khaos’ preferences.
It’s…refreshing. To be an omega and have it not matter to someone in the least.
Following that incident, Phainon bugs Zephyro to teach him to fight and is shot down cold every time. Zephyro has neither the time nor interest, only having taught Khaslana because Nanook ordered him.
“Don’t bother,” Khaos tells Phainon. “He’s Nanook’s best.” Instead, he suggests they take lessons at a Kremnoan martial arts school nearby. They want to be able to protect themselves, to never be a burden to Khaslana, to be able to help him. Frankly, Khaos expects to be laughed out the door when they show up at the school. To his surprise, the master of the hall—a woman named Gorgo, happily takes them in. There are a few mishaps the first day but, after that, not a single instance of bullying occurs—Gorgo has zero tolerance for bigotry and enforces her rules with an iron fist. Gorgo is impressed with the both of them, the two excelling under her tutelage and garnering her rare praise.
A few months of training later, Khaos doesn’t stop Phainon this time when he goes to challenge Zephyro to a spar. He’s ignored, of course, but Phainon is nothing if not determined. Eventually, Zephyro gives in, just to shut him up.
In two moves, Zephyro has Phainon on the ground, so fast Khaos can barely follow the motion. Zephyro is not gentle about it—intending to deter Phainon from annoying him again. “Don’t waste my time. I’m not a babysitter. Go play with your brother.”
“Khaslana is busy,” Phainon says, which is absolutely the wrong answer. It does, however, incense Zephyro enough that Phainon gets another free beating spar.
Naturally, this isn’t enough to deter Phainon, and it’s far from the last time he gets a lesson from Zephyro. On the fourth instance, when Phainon is panting on the ground, Zephyro looks over to Khaos, still expressionless. “Well?”
Having been waiting for this, Khaos leaps to his feet, eager for his turn.
Because Phainon (and Khaos) aren’t ones to receive without giving, they snoop around and find out that Zephyro is fond of Niko Bakery’s savory spiced turnovers. The next time they bug him for a spar, they present him with a pastry box, Phainon beaming when Zephyro accepts the treats, nonplussed.
Khaslana hears about this affair, straight from the twins and, apparently, from Zephyro’s pointed comments to him during work hours. He finds it greatly amusing that they’re able to get under Zephyro’s skin, teasing Phainon about his crush. He does, however, also let Phainon down gently.
“From what I’ve heard, Zephyro doesn’t do relationships or sex. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Phainon is cuddled in Khaslana’s lap on the couch, Khaos typing away on his laptop at the side.
“’Lana! I didn’t say anything about that. I wouldn’t,” Phainon adds quietly, upset. “We have you and Nanook.”
Khaslana blinks, glancing at Khaos who evades his gaze. “I’ve thought about it,” Khaslana admits, “when Zephyro had me pinned beneath him. More than once.”
Khaos’ head whips around. “You did?” He knows that Khaslana respects Zephyro, but there’s also tension there that he and Phainon are unclear of the reason for—Khaslana rarely talks about the man.
Khaslana shrugs, sheepish. “I’m not sure why to be honest, but if it’s Zephyro…” his lips quirk. “I wouldn’t mind having a go at him myself. As for you two, it’s not so much I wouldn’t mind, as I would like to watch. You’d both look pretty beneath him.” He considers it, head tilting. “Or on top.”
Phainon wriggles closer. “Is this like Nanook?”
Two pairs of blue eyes sparkle at him with curiosity.
Khaslana makes a face. “No. Zephyro is nothing like Nanook…” But the situation is kind of similar? At the same time, it’s totally different. His nose wrinkles in confusion. “I don’t know. Don’t get your hopes up, but if something happens, we can talk about it, okay?” He grunts when Phainon surges up to kiss him, throwing his arms around Khaslana’s neck.
“Love you,” Phainon says, smiling, and gets kissed again for it.
Scooting close, Khaos presses his lips to Khaslana’s cheek, and quickly hides behind his computer screen afterwards, ears a little red.
Heart feeling full, Khaslana gathers them both close, nuzzling them until Phainon is humming contentedly and Khaos is grumbling, the two leaning into their alpha’s side.
**
Falling into bed with Zephyro is almost happenstance. Well, kind of.
Nanook and Khaslana are away on an international trip, a conference of consortiums, long enough to span two heats. It’s not like the twins can’t weather a heat on their own, but it can be pretty miserable depending on how hard it hits. They deal with the first one on their own, comforting each other through it with toys and hand and mouths.
The second one though, is wretched for Phainon. He’s curled up in a little ball, whimpering quietly and burning a high fever. He retches every time he tries to eat something, too nauseous to keep down anything but water. He doesn’t want the toys and Khaos has to help him with them, hoping a false knot will trick Phainon’s body into thinking it’s getting what it wants, but knowing from experience that it won’t work.
It only ever gets this bad for Khaos so he’s at something of a loss. Still, they’ve had worse before, so he quietly takes care of Phainon through the first two days, neglecting his own heat and feeding Phainon the fever medication. It’s the worst when Phainon goes quiet because then Khaos knows he’s hurting enough that he doesn’t want Khaos to know about it.
After thinking it over, Khaos realizes there is one person who they can trust for this. Slathering himself with scent blockers, he goes to find Zephyro.
“What are you doing here like that?” Zephyro asks sharply.
Khaos exudes an omega’s heat pheromones, the scent blockers only partially dampening the scent. Nanook and Khaslana’s scent marks on Khaos have worn off by now and, despite knowing who he belongs to, he received several unpleasantly evaluating looks in the halls as he walked through headquarters.
Khaos isn’t worried. His own heat is light this time, not as compelling and, after sparring with Zephyro, he knows he can handle himself. The four alphas in Zephyro’s office, pheromones seeping into the air and expressions hungry, aren’t a problem.
Zephyro evidently doesn’t feel the same. His sharp, clean scent, the violent spark of a crackling wire, like scorched lightning and thundering storm, floods out into the room, obliterating the other alphas’ pheromones and crushing the four beneath his suppression. The alphas cringe back, sweating and stammering apologies as they make themselves as small as possible, their necks bared in submission.
The oppression is withheld from around Khaos but, in the midst of his heat, Zephyro’s pheromones still make him dizzy, stumbling over to lean against the front of the desk.
“Get out—”
Khaos has never heard Zephyro’s voice like this, gone deep and dangerous.
“—I’ll deal with you all later. Close the door.”
The alphas flee, Zephyro’s scent lifting as he comes around the desk to meet Khaos. “What is it?”
Khaos explains the situation, surprised when he doesn’t get an instant rejection. Instead, Zephyro frowns at him, thoughtful. It’s because Khaos is the one doing the asking. Not only is Khaos excessively protective of Phainon, chasing away anyone who isn’t Khaslana or Nanook, he has a chip on his shoulder about alphas and heats. That he’s making this request is an indication of how bad Phainon’s condition is.
“Nanook and Khaslana?”
“We have Khaslana’s permission for…for you.” Khaos’ cheeks heat, knowing what it sounds like. “Nanook, um, we never talked about it, but I don’t think he’ll mind if it’s to help Phainon.” Specifically, if Zephyro helps. Anyone else would be buried six feet under. In pieces. Many tiny pieces. If there’s even anything left of them.
“You don’t think the boss, Nanook, will mind.” Zephyro stares at him, disbelieving.
“Phainon hasn’t eaten in two days,” Khaos reveals, biting the inside of his lip. “I know you’re busy handling everything while brother and Nanook are gone, but could you stop by for a short while?” he pleads. “Even just having an alpha’s pheromones would help.”
“…Fine.”
**
Zephyro’s frown deepens when he sees Phainon, curled silently on the bed, his shoulders shaking. Phainon quickly composes himself on noticing his arrival, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. “Mr. Zephyro?”
Sighing, Zephyro takes off his jacket, hanging it on the bedside chair, and settles on the mattress next to Phainon, releasing his pheromones. Instantly, the tension begins to drain out of Phainon’s frame. “Will this help?”
“Yes. Thank you,” Phainon whispers. He doesn’t ask for more, nor does he scoot closer even though he wants nothing more than to plaster himself against Zephyro. It’s obvious now that the rumors were true. Phainon is an omega in the throes of a potent heat, the sweet irresistible allure of his scent thick and heady in the room. Any alpha would be hard pressed to resist, but Zephyro’s gaze remains cool. The alpha’s body reacts to Phainon—there’s a visible bulge in his trousers, but he acts as if it has nothing to do with him.
Phainon is nearly trembling with need, but he hugs his arms around himself, snuggling back when Khaos curls around him.
Zephyro stares at Phainon. “You can use those.” He gestures roughly at the obscene toys lying about on the bedspread.
Two pairs of baby blue eyes blink at him. “It won’t make you uncomfortable?”
Zephyro’s expression twitches. “Who do you think I am? It would take a lot more than watching you fuck yourself for something to make me uncomfortable.”
Phainon nods slowly but makes no move to touch the toys. Neither does Khaos.
Zephyro presses his knuckles to his forehead. “I don’t care for sex, but I don’t mind it either,” he explains reluctantly, testy about it.
“It feels good physically, but it doesn’t do much for you,” Khaos says, wondering if Zephyro is like him.
Zephyro’s gaze moves to him, considering. “Yes.”
Khaos nods. “It’s the same for me. Sometimes. But for you, it’s always?”
Zephyro shrugs. “As far as I can tell. No exceptions to date.” Moving himself closer, he lays a hand on Phainon’s head.
Phainon turns onto his back, knees drawn up to expose his cunt. While Khaos works a toy inside Phainon, Zephyr pets his fingers through soft white strands. Watching this carnal scene, the temperature of Zephyro’s gaze remains lukewarm, more concerned with Phainon’s health than the lascivious happenings below.
Khaos is careful as he works Phainon over. In this state, Phainon is both oversensitive and unable to be truly satisfied. His hips rock into Khaos’ motions but his lashes are damp with frustrated tears, mouth pressed into a thin unhappy line.
“It’s not enough?” Zephyro inquires.
Phainon shakes his head. “I need a knot.”
Zephyro nods. “Alright.”
“Alright?” Two voices repeat. The twins’ jaws go slack when Zephyro tosses aside his belt, opening up his pants.
“Zeph, I’m okay,” Phainon assures him earnestly. “You really don’t have to—"
Zephyro rolls his eyes. “Shut up, brat. And don’t call me Zeph.” He pauses. “Don’t call me mister either, if we’re sharing a bed.”
Khaos moves to the side, giving Zephyro room to work.
“Lube.”
Khaos hands him the tube. The twins watch blankly as Zephyro squirts the slick into his palm and jerks himself hard. Like priming a machine, Khaos thinks with some hilarity.
Phainon just looks dazed as if he can’t believe this is actually happening.
Khaos is a little worried that Zephyro is going to continue like that, mechanically fucking Phainon to completion. Instead, he’s shockingly gentle—matching the slow and careful pace Khaos had used to take care of Phainon, he realizes. Lying down at Phainon’s side, Khaos kisses and touches him softly as Zephyro steadily brings Phainon to two dreamy orgasms. With his body too sensitive like this, the sensations are a bit too much for Phainon, but he’s also shivery with pleasure, already looking better.
But not entirely satisfied—Zephyro hasn’t come inside him yet.
“If you want my knot, it’s going to take a lot more effort,” Zephyro states, braced over Phainon and still sheathed inside. His brows lift when Phainon tightens tellingly around him, soaking his length with fresh slick, and shuddering with anticipation.
“Please.”
By the time Zephyro knots him, Phainon is completely fucked out, drowsing and half asleep. He makes a questioning sound when Zephyro moves him around, sitting back against the headboard with Phainon in his lap, weight resting on his chest. Phainon hears Zephyro tell Khaos, “Bring me my bag.” Squinting his eyes open, he sees Zephyro taking out a tablet.
“You…Are you going to work while you breed me?”
“Do you have any idea what it takes to run this damn empire?” Zephyro grouses right back. “If Phantylia doesn’t start pulling her weight I’m going to kill one of her boytoys, see if that doesn’t motivate her.”
Phainon shouldn’t laugh—Zephyro probably isn’t joking about the murder threat—but he can’t help it. It doesn’t help that Khaos is in agreement, finding Zephyro’s actions reasonable.
“Can I help with anything?” Khaos asks.
Waiting for his laptop to boot up, Zephyro’s fingers tap against the edge. “You’re good with computers aren’t you?”
Good is the understatement of the century. Khaos is a genius, having already surpassed the best of the Syndicate’s hackers.
“Pretty good,” Khaos replies.
Thus, Phainon has the…unique experience of being knotted, womb being bred full of alpha seed, while two people diligently tap away at their keyboards. It’s mostly funny and…and more than a little bit nice, being cared for by the two of them and having it not be about sex, not really.
Zephyro knots Phainon one more time, makes a few phone calls, does some more work, and then addresses Khaos. “Do you need my cock?” he asks bluntly.
This whole time, Khaos has been helping Zephyro tend to Phainon or helping him with work, ignoring his own heat. This cycle has been mild for Khaos; it’s mostly a minor irritation—but it’s one that has been growing problematic over the course of the day.
Evaluating himself, Khaos lips pull down. “Maybe.” He probably can’t ignore his body’s demands for much longer. “Probably,” he corrects resignedly.
Zephyro isn’t put off by his unenthusiasm, shutting down his laptop and setting it aside. “Come here then.”
Phainon watches them sleepily, tucked cozily beneath the sheets within their nest—and desperately trying to repress his inappropriate laughter.
Zephyro and Khaos fuck like a well-oiled machine, cooperative action with maximal efficiency and not a single wasted motion, their teamwork flawless as they work towards the goal of getting Khaos knotted and bred.
Phainon isn’t sure whether he wants to cry or laugh at these two.
“Can you at least kiss?” Phainon says, plaintive. He’s aware this is his problem, not theirs, but he really can’t stand it, when he likes them both so much.
…
Zephyro…Zephyro too.
They both pause in their work to look over at him. Khaos is knotted in Zephryo’s lap, back against his chest, each typing away on their laptops. Trading a glance, Zephyro lets out a put upon sigh, but meets Khaos halfway when he shifts in his lap, turning for a kiss.
There’s no passion in it. Rather, it’s a tepid and comfortable kiss, the preferred temperature for the two of them. Happily, Phainon notes that they’re both enjoying it, even if neither will admit to it. “Thank you,” he says, wriggling over to Zephyro’s side when they part.
Zephyro grunts in reply, lightly touching his head. When Phainon takes his hand, he lets him, waiting for whatever he has to say.
“Zephyro, was this okay? For you, I mean.” Phainon knows Zephyro wouldn’t do anything he doesn’t want to, but he still can’t help worrying over it.
“It…wasn’t bad,” Zephyro answers, and it’s the bemusement in his tone that convinces Phainon it’s true.
Zephyro exhales heavily through his nose, thumping his head back against the wall. “Boss is going to kill me,” he mutters to the ceiling.
“We’ll talk to him,” Phainon and Khaos speak as one.
They’re startled by the sudden harshness in Zephyro’s voice when he says, “No. This is between me and Nanook, understand?”
Phainon doesn’t understand, and he can tell that Khaos doesn’t either. “Will you be in trouble?” Phainon really needed the help, but if Zephyro gets hurt because of him and, even worse, if it’s Nanook who—
Zephyro pulls his hand out of Phainon’s, rapping his forehead. “Stop. You think too much.” His lips purse. “I’ve been with Nanook since the beginning. I wouldn’t betray him, even for you.” Hesitating, he gruffly admits, “Nanook wouldn’t get rid of me so easily, either.”
“Oh…Then, it’ll be okay?”
“It’s fine, it’s just—troublesome.” Zephyro’s expression turns pained, imagining having a conversation with Nanook about relationships. “I am not explaining this to Khaslana though. You two take care of it. I don’t care what you tell him, just keep him off my back.”
Phainon grins, Khaos nodding seriously.
“Deal.”
**
Khaslana is amazed, not a single bit upset when the twins tell him what happened, cuddled together in bed with their alpha.
“Zephyro did…really? I didn’t think he ever would.” A speculative gleam enters Khaslana’s eyes.
“It’s probably a one off,” Phainon hurries to warn.
“It depends on what Nanook says,” Khaos qualifies. “Khas, do you think it’ll be okay? Zephyro didn’t want us to talk to Nanook about it for him.”
Khaslana laughs, amused. “Zephyro’s scent was all over the two of you when we got back. Did Nanook seem angry?”
Nanook wasn’t angry. He did, however, fuck the twins into oblivion, drenching them in his scent. Notably, Nanook didn’t hold himself back this time for Khaos, despite knowing better than to be aggressive with him. Vaguely recognizing his alpha’s need, Khaos allowed it, soothed through the claiming by Khaslana and Phainon. It felt good, but Khaos is on the fence about whether he would want a repeat performance.
Now that Khaos thinks of it, Khaslana was unusually possessive as well; that whole night, and the following morning was an overwhelming haze of pleasure.
“Did you talk to Nanook about it?” Khaos guesses.
“For a given definition of talk,” Khaslana says dryly. His lips quirk. “He’d like to watch, but I suspect Zephyro might not like that. Who knows though, those two have a complicated relationship.”
Phainon groans, briefly smothering his face into the pillow. “When did things get so complicated?”
Khaslana ruffles his hair. “As if you mind, little minx. Two of us not enough for you?” he teases.
Phainon peeks up at him. “Is this really okay with you, ‘Lana?”
Khaslana chuckles. “You two. I’m just sorry I missed the show.”
**
Nanook gives his permission.
“Tell me if you need me,” is all Zephyro says when the twins corner him in his office, not looking up from his computer. “Don’t make it a habit.”
“What about your ruts?” Phainon presses.
“What about them?”
“Can we—I—take care of them?”
Khaos doesn’t correct Phainon, silent at his side.
It’s an open offer, more than once, meaning it’s more than repayment.
The typing stops, Zephyro’s face gone blank—more blank, if that’s even possible. “You want to?”
“Yes,” Phainon says firmly. “We can do it however you like to handle your rut.” He remembers what Zephyro and Khaos were like together that day.
“You’re not going to like it,” Zephyro predicts, thinking of the same, “but I know you’ll be a busybody until I let you try. I’ll call you when my rut comes around, we can see how it goes.”
It’s a week later when Zephyro calls Phainon.
Phainon mentally prepared himself for impersonal, dry-as-dust sex.
It doesn’t go like that at all.
Zephyro is hungry.
And pissed off about it. It’s not quite passion. Instead, Zephyro is just—incredibly intense. Given how unemotional Zephyro normally is, it’s hot as hell seeing him like this.
The sex does turn out to be a bit perfunctory, though Zephyro accommodates Phainon to some extent despite saying he wouldn’t. He kisses and holds Phainon, sometimes gentle and sometimes rough. What Phainon likes best is that Zephyro lets him show him some care, massaging his scalp to release the migraine that often comes with his cycle, even letting Phainon wash his hair, though that ends with Phainon bent over the side of the tub, water sloshing over the sides as he’s mounted.
Joining Zephyro for his ruts becomes a regular occurrence for Phainon. Unsurprisingly, Khaos declines to go, his attitude towards sex having always been ambivalent—uncommonly something he would seek out for himself.
With three alphas and two omegas in their haphazard mess of a relationship, scheduling around ruts and heats could theoretically become a nightmare. Thankfully, with Nanook and Zephyro being older, the two alpha’s ruts are regular and infrequent.
Still, inevitably, Phainon isn’t able to make one of Zephyro’s ruts. It’s not a problem—Zephyro calls up a longtime acquaintance-with-benefits to assist and books a hotel room for three days.
The last person Zephyro expects to show up at his door is Khaos.
The moment Zephyro sees who it is at the door, he asks, “What’s wrong?” Not having started yet, he’s still dressed, already pulling out his phone to deal with whatever emergency it is.
Khaos pushes past a confused Zephyro, barging into the room, his jaw clenched. “Get out,” he snarls at the omega lounging on the bed. The man is only slightly less built than Khaos—unusual for an omega, and not nearly as stunning, his features too harsh. Somehow that’s worse, when it makes him look like a better fit for Zephyro.
The person Zephyro called is no typical omega. He simply raises an amused brow, unintimidated. “Zeph, you didn’t tell me you had such a gorgeous boyfriend. Trouble in paradise?”
Zephyro is still staring at Khaos, thrown for a loop. It can’t be that Khaos wants to accompany him through his rut, except that’s exactly what this looks like. “Don’t call me that,” he responds absently. “We’re not…” boyfriends, he doesn’t say, seeing Khaos lips pull tight into a white line.
The omega chuckles. “I’d love to stay for the show—it’s rare for you to be the one in hot water, but you know my rules, darling: no complications.” Sauntering over to them, he eyes a tense Khaos up and down. “If you ever get tired of this old man, I’m always available for a pretty thing like you,” he purrs to Khaos, reaching out with the intention to twist a white lock around his fingers.
His hand never connects, the omega’s wrist grabbed by Zephyro, who simultaneously blocks Khaos’ defensive attack.
“Don’t provoke him,” Zephyro says lowly. Don’t touch him.
The omega huffs, tugging his wrist from Zephyro’s grasp. His smile fades. “Zephyro, I’ll give you a piece of advice I wish I listened to before: don’t let what’s important to you go easily.”
Zephyro doesn’t acknowledge it, simply saying, “I owe you for the trouble.”
The omega laughs, cheery again. “You could stand to loosen up a bit, old man. Send me a nice bottle of wine and we’ll call it even. Ciao, darlings.” He’s gone like a breeze, taking care to close the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Zephyro asks.
At the same time, Khaos demands, “Who is he?”
“An old acquaintance. My helper for the rut,” Zephyro replies evenly. “Chasing him off like this, are you planning to take his place?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to, and I don’t need this from you.” Zephyro folds his arms, unimpressed. “Anyone will do: that’s why I came to a hotel instead of staying at home like I do with Phainon. It’s not personal.”
Khaos is silent for a long moment. Then: “I don’t want you going to anyone else for this,” he hisses, the ever-cool blue of his eyes gone brilliant with emotion. You’re ours.
Zephyro isn’t able to look away, mesmerized. Slowly, he reaches out to cup Khaos’ cheek.
Determinedly, Khaos turns his face into Zephyro’s hand, nuzzling a little.
“It’s not going to be like last time,” Zephyro warns. “It’ll be rough.” Not that a rut is enough to make him lose control, but he isn’t going to coddle the brat.
“Phainon told me. I can take it.”
Khaos isn’t prepared when Zephyro’s suffocating pheromones surge, so intense that it buckles his knees, burning ozone so sharp that it stings his nares, brining involuntary tears to his eyes.
“Khaos,” Zephyro says, low and intent, his gaze burning. “I don’t want you to endure. Do you understand me?”
It’s Khaos’ turn to stare, emotions roiling, and then he’s grabbing Zephyro’s collar, dragging him down into an impassioned kiss.
That night, the two people’s temperature rises to a rare possessive swelter as Khaos stakes his claim on his alpha, and is claimed by Zephyro in turn.
**
It’s a rival Consortium that snatches Phainon and Khaos in broad daylight. The mobsters are clever about it, having done their homework. They threaten a child, sending a live video to Phainon’s cell. Khaslana and Zephyro have gone over with the twins how to handle this kind of situation, but the villains are merciless. Don’t send out a message, or else, they say, and mean every word. Having no time to react, Phainon and Khaos willingly walk into the trap.
The kidnappers have no intention to keep their word not to harm the child—a witness that can’t live to talk—but Phainon and Khaos have planned for that possibility, fighting off the mobsters long enough for the child to run. However, as a result, they’re both captured. The only uneasy consolation is that there’s an absolute order from above not to touch them. Holding a deep grudge against Nanook, the Consortium’s boss wants to break in Nanook’s omegas himself and doesn’t want his fun ruined.
The mobsters this time aren’t easy to deal with. Most would be lax in guarding omegas, but these men heard rumors that Phainon and Khaos were trained by Zephyro. They don’t take any chances, keeping the twins drugged and bound.
The Consortium manages to hold them for an impressive two days before the Devil himself arrives on their doorstep.
Disoriented by the drugs, Khaos’ memories from that time are cloudy, just the panicked ruckus of screams and explosions, and then fighting his captors when he and Phainon were dragged forwards to be used as human shields. He remembers seeing Nanook standing across from them, gun pointed at the captors. He’d never seen Nanook’s eyes blaze so bright. His face was wiped clean of expression, so terrifyingly forbidding that, despite himself, it evoked an instinctual fear in Khaos.
And Khaslana…Khaos didn’t even know Khaslana could get that furious, a towering wrath, his eyes wild and crazed.
It was dazzling.
Barely conscious, Khaos and Phainon feigned docility, and then, at the soft double tap of Phainon’s toes against the ground, they struggled fiercely, shoving off the kidnappers to give their alphas a clean shot. Khaos took a bullet to the shoulder, Phainon a gash on his side, and then Zephyro dropped down from somewhere above, coming up from behind. With Nanook and Khaslana at the front, their captors had nowhere left to run. There was a blur of motion, shots ringing out, and then Khaslana was clutching Khaos and Phainon in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he frantically checked them over with shaking hands.
Khaos breathed in deep, taking in Khaslana’s familiar scent of sunshine and petrichor, a crisp and warm scent that meant safety and home. There was a new scorching quality to the sunshine in Khaslana’s scent but…it wasn’t bad.
Zephyro stood silently over them, guarding while a doctor tended their wounds. Afterwards, they were taken to an ambulance to be transported to the hospital, Khaslana climbed in with them.
Zephyro only stopped in briefly, murmuring something as he leaned over Phainon, softly kissing his lips. He came over to Khaos next. “Khaslana will stay with you. We’ll be back after we clean up the trash,” Zephyro told Khaos. His face was calm, but his voice was odd, dangerously soft.
“Mm,” Khaos acknowledged, mind too full of cotton wool to decipher it. “Nanook?” he whispered, and saw Phainon’s head turn from the other cot.
Nanook had taken a single glance at them, turned around, and left.
Was he angry at them for handling the situation poorly?
Zephyro kissed Khaos gently and stroked his hair, his clumsy consolation. “Nanook…his control isn’t good right now,” Zephyro said roughly, and there was a wealth of implication in that short statement. Zephyro’s gaze flicked briefly to Khaslana, who had gone over to soothe Phainon, then back. “That’s why I have to be the one to go with him. Understand?”
The anxiousness in his heart released, Khaos nodded, and let his consciousness slip under.
**
Khaos and Phainon stayed in the hospital for a week—the cocktail of drugs they were given causing more problems than the wounds they sustained—with Khaslana nearly glued to them, the beds pushed together and Khaslana’s arms around them.
Once they’re discharged, they return home, piling together into Nanook’s big bed.
Khaslana leaves the next day, trading places with Zephyro with a vague promise to return soon.
Zephyro is oddly stiff around them until Phainon holds out his hand to him, wordlessly inviting him into bed. Zephyro’s hands are careful on them, as if they’re made of glass, but he buries his face against their throats for a long time, first Phainon, then Khaos, just breathing in their scents.
“Nanook and ‘Lana went after the Consortium, didn’t they?” Phainon says, more for confirmation than an actual question.
“Yes.”
Khaos sighs heavily. “Then Khas isn’t coming back anytime soon.” It could take months, it had better not be years—he’ll drag them both back himself if they dare stay away that long.
There’s a strange silence from Zephyro, tucked between them, that has them both studying his unhelpfully blank face.
“End of week.”
“…What?” Khaos stares. Zephyro can’t mean…
“The Consortium will be finished by the end of the week. Have you noticed?” Zephyro says slowly. “The boss gets angry, but he’s never enraged.”
Phainon’s eyes widen. “Nanook is always in control.” Truthfully, he had been a bit shocked when Khaslana—overprotective of them both—had suggested Nanook join them in bed. He somewhat understood after that first time together. Nanook was only as affected by two omegas in full blown heat as much as he allowed. His control wasn’t strained—it was easy, effortless.
“I don’t know what the Consortium leader was thinking,” Zephyro muses, “but he told Nanook every detail of what he had planned for you two. It…took awhile. That was a grave mistake.”
“Khaslana—” Phainon starts worriedly.
“Wasn’t in the room. I didn’t expect Nanook to be so affected,” Zephyro says softly. “I think it took him by surprise too. The end result is the same: when The Blemished One is in fury, the entire world burns.”
“Oh,” Khaos breathes, and sees his wonder reflected in Phainon’s eyes.
After a moment, Phainon tentatively says, “That doesn’t seem good, if it’s not just the Consortium that’s…affected.”
Zephyro ruffles his hair. “That’s why Khaslana is there now.”
“Damage control.” Three voices say together, and then, for no good reason, they’re all laughing. There’s a tinge of hysteria to it, and Khaos’ shoulder aches, but it feels good to laugh again, and he knows everything is going to be okay.
**
It’s just over a week later when Nanook and Khaslana return.
Khaos’ eyes open blearily, wondering what that ruckus is, and then he’s jerking upright.
“They’re back!” Phainon is grinning ear to ear, sitting up as well.
Zephyro somehow ended up on his far side, rubbing his face tiredly. “Why did they have to fuck next door, in the middle of the night, when there’s so many damn rooms in this house?” His eyes squint sleepily. “Why is it so loud?”
The noises Khaslana is currently making are enough to make Khaos blush. Khaslana is never this loud. “Victory sex?”
“Or ‘Lana is thanking him.” Phainon’s grin turns into a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief as he tugs at Khaos’ hand, climbing out of the bed. “Shouldn’t we thank them as well?”
Khaos isn’t sure he wants to get in on that, but he’s absolutely going next door to watch the show.
Zephyro grunts. “You do that. I’m going to find a room to sleep.” Standing, he rolls his neck. “On the other side of the building.”
Khaos tilts his head at him. He understands Zephyro not wanting to join in, but—“You’re not curious?” The corner of his mouth curls, when Zephyro pauses.
“…Not curious enough to fuck someone.” Zephryo would rather just go back to sleep.
“Why would you need to fuck someone? I’m going over to watch.” Khaos knows Zephyro likes watching too. Well, sometimes. Not often.
“I’ve never heard Nanook and ‘Lana this worked up,” Phainon entices, seeing Zephyro wavering. “Once in a lifetime opportunity,” he singsongs.
Both Khaos and Zephyro groan. “You’re ridiculous.”
Holding one of Khaos’ hand in his own, Phainon stretches the other one out to Zephyro.
Zephyro’s expression is mildly despairing. “I’m going to regret this,” he mutters, but takes the outstretched hand.
**
(Nanook isn’t a cuddler, but that night, he holds Phainon and Khaos for a long time, his large hands gentle on them. In the morning, he’s reluctant to let the two go.
He doesn't need to: Phainon and Khaos are happy to stay with him, Khaslana puppy piled in with them.)
**
Khaos isn’t sure how that night leads to the scene he incidentally sees two days later, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water—Zephyro (irritably—is there any other way he does anything?) having Khaslana up against the wall—but he’s not going to complain about the results.
With no great fanfare, Zephyro moves into their home, taking a room on the opposite side of the building from everyone else for his peace and quiet. He begins to take Phainon and Khaos’ training seriously, even hauling Khaos out of his den if he misses a lesson—once a week with Zephyro, and their regular three times a week at the Kremnoan training hall.
Initially, Zephyro keeps to himself. Khaos and Phainon leave him to it, assuming it’s his preference. Oddly enough, it’s Nanook who requires everyone to sit down together for dinner, the entire family when they’re available—Zephyro included. Zephyro is uncomfortable the first few times until he realizes that no conversation is required. Only Phainon occasionally talks, with Khaslana contributing a small amount, but neither of them are chatterboxes either.
Looking around the table, Khaos marvels at the menage they have here—a mob boss, his most dangerous enforcer, and Khaos’ brothers; yet he feels a warmth in his heart that he could never have imagined before.
It’s an odd little family that they have here, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
[The End.]