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“Oh, stop fussing, the both of you,” G’raha said. “‘Tis but a mild strain, nothing more.”
He performed an exaggerated stretch of his arms and neck in an attempt to prove how mild said strain was, which was subsequently undermined by the way he winced and clutched at one shoulder. B’alith and Deryk gave him a matching set of incredulous looks.
“A mild strain?” B’alith said, one eyebrow cocked at the grimacing Miqo’te. “Seems a bit more than that to me.”
G’raha’s ears dropped in an expression of mild chagrin. “Alright, fine. Perhaps I may have underestimated how quickly I would take to the bow again.”
B’alith shook his head with a wry laugh. Other commitments had kept him from enjoying what had surely been an impressive show of skill from both men—not to mention an opportunity to admire the type of musculature he’d always had a weakness for—but he could not say that he was surprised by the outcome. He’d suspected that G’raha’s competitive streak would get the best of him after Deryk had announced they were planning to spend the morning together at Old Sharlayan’s archery range, and couldn’t help but feel a little smug at having been right.
“I’m afraid I bear some of the responsibility, too,” Deryk said. “I should have spoken up sooner when I noticed G’raha’s discomfort, but I’m afraid I allowed myself to get caught up in our little friendly competition as well.”
“And was there a prize at stake for this little competition?”
“Naturally.”
“Dare I ask what that prize was?”
Deryk’s answering smile had an edge of something hungry in it. “Which of us got to have our way with you first.”
B’alith was not entirely sure if the answer had been meant in jest, or if it was merely an attempt to fluster him. In either case, it had its intended effect—his face went very red at the images that brought to mind, and at the memory of the way he and Deryk had lavished attention on their shared lover the last time the three of them had been together.
“Alas, it seems that I must forfeit,” G’raha said. He stripped off his bracers and rolled his wrists back and forth, flexing stiff fingers and pressing his knuckles along his forearms in an attempt to ease muscle strain. “I claimed the title of victor, if only just barely, but I fear I would not be able to fully enjoy my hard-won prize with how badly I overdid it in the process of winning.”
A pang of something bittersweet tugged at B’alith’s chest at the phrasing of G’raha’s words. His affections had been hard won, in more than one way. Their relationship had not always taken the easiest path, and it had only been in the past year or so that they had found their footing again. He’d been glad to see G’raha and Deryk beginning to grow closer before he’d left for Tural, and that something had continued to bloom between them in his absence—it was a relief to know that G’raha had someone in his life who could provide a type of affection that his more withdrawn partner still struggled with.
Deryk looked between the pair of Miqo’te, his expression thoughtful. “If I may… I have a suggestion.”
“Oh?”
“Let me be your surrogate hands, as it were.” He took one of G’raha’s hands and brought it up to trail kisses along one pale forearm, lingering over the sensitive pulse point at his wrist and coaxing a tail curl from him in return. “Tell me what to do, how and where you’d touch him if it were you in my place, and I will do my utmost to fulfill your instructions.”
There was that hungry smile again, accompanied by a flash of something in Deryk’s amber eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder that made B’alith’s tail flick nervously. So the intimation that he was the prize they were competing for had been at least a little serious, then.
G’raha’s mouth curled into an expression of anticipatory satisfaction. “Well, there’s an idea. You did suggest that you were capable of putting on a good show, when the three of us were last together like this.” He paused to glance at their shared lover too, worry momentarily creasing his brow. “If B’alith’s alright with that, of course.”
Both men looked more attentively at B’alith, who was watching the exchange with his ears pricked forward and his eyes very wide. Sex had always been something he valued as an opportunity to quiet his too-active mind; a time and a place for him to put down the need to perform a role for an audience. He’d enjoyed the evening they’d previously spent together, the push and pull of three bodies instead of two, but the thought of being on display for one as the other pleasured him to their instructions was something else entirely.
Still, though, there was something about the idea that appealed to him. He was curious to see what G’raha would do with being given that responsibility, and if he would be able to restrain himself from taking part and re-aggravating overworked muscles and tendons.
“I confess to a small amount of trepidation,” B’alith said, “but I find that, like with many things, my curiosity is currently winning out over my nerves.” He smiled at his lovers and took them both by the hand, pulling them back towards the bed. “Let’s see how well Deryk does with following instructions, shall we?”
G’raha stopped them both as they started to undress.
“No, not like that,” he said. He pulled off his own shirt, somewhat less gracefully than he was usually capable of, before flopping down onto the bed and making himself more comfortable. He looked back up at the men standing beside him with an expression of studied consideration. To Deryk, he added, “You asked what I would do? Help him out of his clothes.”
Deryk was quick to obey. He made short work of B’alith’s clothes, peeling off his sweater and helping him out of the loose trousers he’d donned in anticipation of a lazy afternoon to himself. B’alith’s efforts to reciprocate were stymied by the way Deryk kept lingering over some of the places where he was especially sensitive, causing him to lose his grip or clutch more tightly at a handful of fabric, but they soon found themselves both stripped bare amidst a pile of clothing at their feet.
G’raha cast an appraising look over the pair of them while Deryk finished shimmying out of his smallclothes. He made an appreciative noise at the expanse of bare skin now visible to him.
“Much better,” he said as he lounged back against the pillows and let his legs fall open, making his growing arousal that much more apparent against the cloth of his trousers. He slid a hand down his belly to palm his cock, a low groan spilling from his throat in response to the friction. “Seven hells, it’s unfair how lovely you both are.”
B’alith tried to fight down the way being watched so hungrily still made him want to blush and squirm. Undressing to bathe or change clothes had never bothered him, or simply being naked around others with no ulterior motives, but a part of him had still not yet learned to see the way a life of adventuring had turned adolescent gangliness into lean muscle that made him nice to look at.
He settled instead for climbing into G’raha’s lap and grasping his wrist to pull his hand away from the now prominent ridge of his erection.
“Thought you said you’d overdid it,” B’alith said, putting a hint of a purr into his voice that always made G’raha’s ears twitch. “Can’t have you going and making that ‘mild strain’ worse now, can we?”
He let his own hand drift between G’raha’s legs to stroke him through the fabric of his trousers. G’raha bucked against him with another throaty moan, tail thumping against the mattress in response to B’alith’s touch.
“You— fuck— you’re supposed to be letting Deryk do the touching,” G’raha gasped.
“The agreement was that you’d tell him what you wanted to do to me. I didn’t hear anything about whether I had to follow instructions.”
G’raha laughed softly and let his head fall back against the pillows. “No, I suppose you didn’t.” He looked over B’alith’s shoulder to address Deryk, who was climbing onto the mattress to join them. “Deryk, would you kindly help him behave?”
“A tall order,” Deryk said with an answering grin, “but I’ll see what I can do.”
B’alith’s attempts to catch G’raha’s mouth in a kiss were thwarted by Deryk’s fingers threading into his hair. That strong grip tightened, not quite as hard as he’d been anticipating but firm enough to encourage him to sit back on his heels. B’alith let himself be pulled with a quiet whine of surrender—the Hyur had thus far been hesitant to be as rough as he preferred, but he remained hopeful that positive reinforcement would coax him into it with time.
“It will be very difficult for G’raha to direct me if you’re occupying his mouth like that,” Deryk murmured against B’alith’s neck. “You are, however, free to continue using your hands however you like.” He let go of the fistful of auburn hair he still held and directed his attention back to G’raha. “Now, then. If you were in my place, what might you do next?”
G’raha cast another appreciative glance over the naked Miqo’te straddling his lap, and the equally naked Hyur behind him. “I would be very tempted to simply shove him down onto the mattress and fuck him, but if you’re going to put on a show… touch him a little more first.”
“Anywhere in particular?”
“His chest, I think.”
Deryk made an obliging noise and brought his arms around B’alith’s waist. Large hands slid up his belly to splay across the plane of his chest. The pad of a calloused thumb brushed across a nipple, toying with the bar that pierced the sensitive flesh and encouraging it to harden to an achingly sensitive peak. B’alith arched back against him with another, louder cry, tail whipping between his partners’ legs at the sensation of Deryk’s fingers working to make arousal coil even tighter between his legs; the length of an erection pressing thick and hot against his ass as he squirmed in the embrace. G’raha didn’t have the incessant need to tease him until he was half-mad with need, the way other lovers did, but he seemed to be intent on getting a show and Deryk seemed intent on providing one.
“Yes, good, just like that.” G’raha’s voice was starting to grow husky with desire. Crimson eyes had gone dark, slit pupils blown wide, his breathing quickening in response to the scene playing out in front of him. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, glancing towards his lap then back up at Deryk. “Play with his cock, too.”
One of Deryk’s hands slid downward at the instruction to do so. He wrapped his fingers around B’alith’s erection, palm dragging along his length with agonizing gentleness to play over the sensitive spot just under the head. B’alith bucked into the light grip with another needy whine, trying to chase more of the pressure that made little motes of pleasure dance across his skin and narrowed his focus to the heat of Deryk’s breath against his neck and the way slick precome was starting to drip onto the fingers stroking him.
G’raha seemed to have noticed too, by the way the tip of his tongue darted out to whet his lips. The tip of his tail made a soft rustling noise as it curled and uncurled against the blankets.
“Gods, what a sight you are,” he murmured, unable to stop himself from reaching out to run a hand along B’alith’s thigh to rest lightly against Deryk’s fingers, feeling the way they worked against their shared lover’s cock. “Do you want to fuck him, Deryk? I certainly find it difficult to resist when he’s so wound up like this.”
Deryk made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh of relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I don’t suppose I get any say in this?” B’alith’s attempts to sound annoyed were undermined by the way Deryk’s efforts had already made him a little breathless.
G’raha’s answering look suggested that he already knew the answer to what he was going to ask. “Do you actually want a say?”
B’alith’s cheeks went pink again as his ears flattened back against his head. G’raha was right, damn the infuriatingly observant man. The way he and Deryk were treating him as if he was merely an object of pleasure to be shared between the two of them was far more arousing than he’d anticipated; he was enjoying the fact that, for however long this particular scene played out, he did not have to make any decisions about what he wanted. His lovers knew him, and each other, well. They would make sure he was thoroughly sated by the time they were done with him.
His pointed silence was answer enough for both men.
“That’s what I thought,” G’raha said with a knowing smile. To Deryk, he added, “As you were, then.”
The answering noise of approval made B’alith’s ears prick back up. Deryk’s weight shifted away, presumably to fetch the bottle of thick oil that was kept on the bedside table for just such a purpose.
B’alith swayed a little, unbalanced by the loss of the broad chest he’s been supported against. He let himself fall forward to press up against G’raha, catching his mouth in a desperate, hungry kiss that dragged a stifled growl from G’raha’s throat. B’alith took advantage of the distraction to turn his attention towards undoing trouser fastenings.
It took a moment of fumbling, unwilling as he was to break the kiss, but he was soon rewarded by the feeling of G’raha’s cock twitching against his palm, thick and hot and just as hard as his. G’raha thrust against B’alith’s grip, trying to grab for him again to drag their bodies more tightly together, only to be brought up short by B’alith catching his wrists and pinning them down against the mattress. A triumphant grin spread across his face at the way overworked muscles failed to respond the way they usually did when his stronger lover tried to break free—physical strength had never been where his talents lay, and he was enjoying the opportunity to reverse their usual roles a little.
His victory was short-lived, however, when the sensation of oil being dripped between his legs broke his concentration. B’alith gasped, ears flattening back against his head again, and let go of the other Miqo’te’s hands in surprise. He let himself go pliant in response, draping over one lover’s chest and arching his hips back to make himself more accessible to the other.
G’raha nuzzled against the top of his head, arms wrapping loosely around his waist to trace the curve of his hips. “I know you don’t like to be praised,” he murmured into B’alith’s ear, “but wicked white, do I love the sight of you with your ass in the air just desperate to be filled like this.”
Deryk’s answering hum of amusement made B’alith’s tail flick. “The view’s awfully nice from back here, too. Should I give him what he wants?”
“I think so, yes.”
B’alith buried his face against G’raha’s neck with a breathless whimper at the sensation of Deryk’s fingers skimming down the cleft of his ass to slip inside him; one finger, then two, then three, pressing against tight muscles and coaxing them into relaxing enough to accept more, occasionally curling inside him to play against the spot that made rational thought temporarily dissolve. B’alith clutched at G’raha’s shoulders and writhed against the sensation of being worked open, caught between wanting to squirm away or arch back to meet it—Deryk’s hands were larger than G’raha’s were, but so were other parts of him. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
“You’d better hurry up and fuck him, Deryk,” G’raha said with a soft laugh. “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer, with the way he’s making a mess of my lap already.”
“Is that what you would do if you were in my place?” Deryk asked. B’alith did not need to see him to envision the expression of playful teasing that must be on his face.
“I’d already be balls deep inside him by now, if it were me.”
B’alith’s face went hot. He made a little embarrassed noise into the veil of G’raha’s hair.
“I have learned a thing or two about restraint in my time,” Deryk said. “Shall I focus my efforts on sating him first, or use him for my own pleasure?”
“That, I leave to you,” G’raha answered. “I am nothing if not a gracious winner.”
Deryk’s answering laugh only served to make B’alith’s cheeks go redder. He was suddenly grateful that neither of them could see his expression.
The fingers that had been stretching him withdrew, prompting a shiver and a soft gasp from him that turned to an anticipatory thrill as he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh being made slick.
“Are you ready for me?” Deryk murmured. He let his cock slide along the cleft of B’alith’s ass, pressing against his entrance not quite hard enough to slip inside him, but with enough force to make the need to be filled again coil more tightly in his belly.
The noise B’alith made in response this time was far closer to a needy whimper.
G’raha’s affectionate laugh made his ears twitch again. “I think that’s as much of a yes as you’re going to get.”
A large hand came to rest on B’alith’s hip again to hold him steady. The thick heat of Deryk’s cock pressed into him, an intensity just on the right side of pain that filled him more completely than fingers could, and any remaining shyness he had about the situation quickly fled.
B’alith bit down hard on G’raha’s shoulder to muffle the cry that rose in his throat, tail whipping across Deryk’s chest as he bottomed out inside his smaller partner. He went still again for a few breaths, giving B’alith a moment to let his body adjust to the thicker stretch; B’alith used the moment to slip a hand between G’raha’s legs again instead, fingers finding his length to stroke him too. G’raha bucked against him with a frustrated growl, his grip strength failing him again as he tried to grab at B’alith more tightly.
“I take it back, Deryk,” G’raha gasped. “Fuck him hard, the way he likes but is too stubborn to beg for.”
Deryk did not have to be told twice. The pace he set quickly increased in both speed and intensity as he slid a hand between B’alith’s legs to wrap around his erection again. B’alith bucked against him, trying to match the rhythm of his hand on G’raha’s cock to the one driving into him until sensation overwhelmed him and doing anything other than simply giving himself over to the moment became impossible. He surrendered to it gratefully, ragged panting turning to desperate pleas as Deryk took him hard, still not quite as rough as he really craved but much closer to it now, urging him towards his release until the tension between his thighs peaked and he came hard, thrusting against the strong grip on his length and spending across G’raha’s belly.
It was not much longer before Deryk followed him, powerful muscles going tense against his smaller partner’s back and spilling into him with a breathless gasp. He sagged against B’alith’s shoulder, kissing his neck and making appreciative noises while he brought G’raha to his edge too. G’raha arched up to meet him, his own cry of release swallowed by B’alith catching his mouth in another deep kiss.
B’alith went relaxed and boneless against G’raha’s chest as they all came down from the high of their exertions, his sated purr turning to another gasp at the sensation of Deryk carefully withdrawing from him. Deryk flopped down onto the mattress beside them, flushed and sweaty and looking almost unfairly handsome for it. He favored the pair of Miqo’te tangled up in each other with a lazy smile.
“So, how’d I do?” he asked.
“I think that’s more a question for B’alith than it is for me,” G’raha answered.
Both of them looked to B’alith, who was still trying to figure out how coherent speech worked again.
“I think G’raha should overdo it more often.”