[NOW]
“How’s it been, hanging out with him all the time? I know he wouldn’t get in the way of your work, but other than that. Are you comfortable?”
Kabru blinks and tears himself away from the hydra of monitors on his desk. His desk, in Laios’ office. “What are we talking about again?”
“Work’s over, c’mon,” Laios says. She steers Kabru’s desk chair towards the middle of the office, where a pile of Styrofoam takeout boxes awaits their attention. “I think your brain is melting, we gotta save it. And if you don’t want any of this, I’ll go right downstairs and pick up whatever you think you can eat.”
He’ll have to smell it first—it’s all about the smell, these days. Weird, disjointed thoughts come back together as Kabru scoots up to the glossy wood tabletop. Besides the food, he can’t help thinking that his wife looks really good tonight. Laios is wearing the loose, dark grey suit with the wing-tip shoes and the ribbon neck-tie, blonde hair unbound and tucked behind her ears. Nothing too tight or too showy, just silhouetting the thick lines of her body.
Right. The food. “Thank you, love,” he says, finding a smile for her. Luckily, the second the smell hits Kabru’s nose, he starts to salivate, and before he can remember to eat like a tallman, or any kind of human being, he’s ripping into scallion pancakes in an embarrassing frenzy.
He can’t bring himself to give a fuck. After all, these days he’s eating for…
[TWO MONTHS AGO]
“Oh, wow. Two!” Falin’s eyes go wide and she sits up sharply, taking her hands from Kabru’s bare torso. “Yeah, definitely two of them!”
Kabru had begun the day feeling only a little nauseous, as usual. When Falin offered to check him out, just a courtesy for her sister’s secretary (and husband of two years), he thought nothing of pausing their meeting for a check-up. He had no idea that life magicians could diagnose pregnancy.
“You’re kidding. Twins?”
“For sure.” Falin shrugs. “I can see that now. It’s not too late, though, if you decide not to… I could help out with it, come back later tonight?”
Well, shit. “I’m just surprised, I had… no idea. I haven’t had a normal cycle in years, so.” What the fuck is he supposed to do now? He works for the largest contraband and extraction operation in the territory, which is owned by his wife and sister-in-law, and he already has their rivals to worry about, not to mention the entire city government. One wrong move—that’s blackmail, that’s a weak point, a ransom note. Another push further away from cracking the VT4Y4 Compound.
Falin nods, her startled expression settling. “Oh. You don’t have to tell me anything more than you have to, like, please don’t? But it was an accident, then? You really didn’t know…”
“I, uhhh…”
[FOUR MONTHS AGO]
Adrenaline high and sharp, everything sensitive from the jolt in reality sewing itself shut once more, as the hidden tram car crawls back out of the M3L1N1 Compound and onto the abandoned underground highway, Kabru digs his nails into Laios’ back—he drinks in how her voice cracks in a chamber like the back-seat of a livery sedan.
“Kabru, I need—” She slams back into him, forcing his spine up the sticky rear upholstery. “Oh fuck, my Kabru… Please?”
Kabru gasps, catching sight of one or two orange bulbs beyond the tiny windows of the tram. They’re emergency lamps. They look like miniature suns. “Use your words?” He hooks his legs around her back, an unspoken endorsement.
Burying herself in him, Laios groans with the effort of holding back. “I’m, I can’t stop, I need to cum inside—Kabru…”
“Fill me up,” Kabru hisses, “that’s a good girl. Make me yours, knock me up… Now. Give it to me, I need—”
He’s interrupted by her desperate breaking point, clinging to him as she fulfills her promise. Overflowing, pulsing and bright-hot, dripping out onto his thighs…
[NOW]
So it wasn’t quite an accident. So now Kabru’s eating for three, and answering emails for two, and trying for the sake of everything to stay hidden in the Touden siblings’ headquarters (a mid-rampart facility called The Castle). Until this situation resolves itself, he’s there most of the day doing his same job—which, if he’s honest, takes on a new form from afar. Easier to stay in the shadows that way.
Kabru inhales scallion pancakes. He destroys the container of fried chicken.
He can feel something quickening in his lower belly, and his loose shirt shifts against it. He’s not much bigger, but in the last week things have taken a rapid turn, and Laios claims that he shows more every day. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he can eat again.
“What were you saying? Earlier?” Kabru almost cringes at his own voice. He even sounds pregnant, somehow, his words slippery at the edges. His brain is also so sluggish he can’t remember what the hell Laios was asking him about five minutes ago.
Laios pauses to swallow a bite, looking away from the massive windows, the untainted view of the night city, illuminated geometry all around. Other little windows, recurved tracks of road. Glossy and remotely luxurious. “Ah… Oh, that’s right, Mithrun. I was wondering how that was going?”
Kabru, of course, can’t stay in the building alone all day long. He needed someone trustworthy nearby, a body-guard who also happened not to have much else to do and no one to snitch to. There was only one person on the Toudens' payroll who fit that bill. Mithrun, ex-con, government defector, elf, and longest-known survivor of a Compound. The Toudens had broken him out of a military prison last year in exchange for information. Otherwise, Mithrun wasn’t in shape for much.
But Mithrun is loyal, and spends most of his time either quietly training or sleeping. He made the most logical choice for Kabru’s personal guard. Except for this one thing.
No longer bothering to cover his mouth, Kabru laughs out loud. How had he forgotten that? “It’s fine! He’s not a talkative guy some days, but he’s fine company. A little brusque. We get along. But listen, Laios, this is so funny—I think he might be like… a pervert? But in a weirdly endearing way?”
[SIX HOURS AGO]
The security cameras blink in and out across the monitors. Some scenes are for entertainment only, like the ones that show neighboring balconies and windows. The ground floor and underground entrances to The Castle are important, but quiet at this time in the day. Kabru clicks back to the internal cameras, cycling between floors. The climate-controlled storage area on the 4th floor. The spa on the 18th floor.
Where did Mithrun go? Kabru stretches absently, pulling away from the screens to crack his lower back. No, he’d asked Mithrun to go get something, that’s it.
With a small smile, Kabru flicks back to the channel for the 19th floor, where his private bedroom and living room are. Somewhere in there is a new set of heating pads and a cream for joint pain. Mithrun, true to his word, is solemnly circling the conversation pit, hunting through other piles of crap.
Feeling self-conscious, Kabru allows himself to slip a hand under his shirt, running his fingers over where his skin is just becoming taut. It’s scary. Somehow, though, it’s equally good. This is real, actually happening. He wouldn’t take it back, doesn’t want to, but now anybody could look at him and know.
Kabru rubs his curve and watches Mithrun root around, unaware of the camera mere feet away.
The thoughts are increasingly distracting. He’s only, what, 16 weeks in? Not even halfway. A forbidding knowledge—how big is he going to get, exactly? Impossible to say.
A sudden movement on-screen. Kabru glances up to see Mithrun slowly pull a sleek navy blue robe out of a crevice. “Hey, that’s where that went!” Kabru couldn’t find it that morning. It should probably get sent to the laundry, come to think of—
His eyes go wide. Mithrun hesitates, appears to feel the fabric against his palms, shifts from foot to foot. For the first time since Kabru has met him, the man appears nervous about something.
Then Mithrun goes very still, closing his eye. He presses the robe to his face and breathes in deeply. Oh—that’s new. That’s interesting.
Kabru zooms in. Hell, he even turns the sound on. He watches.
Mithrun pants softly under his breath, keeping his eye shut tight. His free hand slowly drops before an invisible string snaps, pulling hand to belt, to zipper. He moves curiously, like he’s surprised that palming himself through his boxers feels good. At least, that’s what his body language conveys.
Clenching his jaw, moving much faster now, Mithrun sits on the edge of the nearest couch and pulls the robe away from his face. As though he might be discovered any second, he wastes no time taking out his half-hard cock and stroking it lightly—then draping the robe around it, fabric slithering and pooling in his lap. Eye still closed, a blush forming around the scar tissue beneath his simple white eyepatch. He bites his lip and cups his hand around the fabric.
“He’s fucking it,” Kabru mutters, fascinated in a bizarre way. “Holy shit.” This is the most interest he’s seen Mithrun take in, well… Anything.
The speakers crackle softly. “K-Kabru,” Mithrun huffs through gritted teeth, his voice raspier than usual—not even elves are immune to a pack a day. His head rolls back an inch. “You feel so good… Fuck…”
A wet spot is obviously leaking through the sheer fabric where the tip of his cock presses. Is he really going to cum just from this?
Frantically, Mithrun bucks his hips off the couch and into the robe, his wiry but muscled body taking the weight easily. Kabru allows himself to become mildly invested. He gets just the tiniest bit wet, maybe.
“Kabru, ugh—fuck, take it,” Mithrun rasps, a low groan rattling in his chest as his back arches once more.
He wants me, Kabru thinks, simultaneously flattered and confused. What else is there to think?
[NOW]
“And then he finished in it and threw it in his own bag, and who knows what plans he has for it?” Kabru shakes his head, playing it up. “He’s one of those smell perverts for sure. I don’t think I could have guessed just from the way he acts around me. Isn’t that wild?”
Laios looks more puzzled than anything. “Huh. On one hand, it’s not that crazy! You’re amazing! So? I’d jerk off to you every day if we weren’t married.”
“Oh yeah? Romantic. I mean it.” Kabru gently grazes the amber gold band of the ring on his left hand, sliding his thumb over it. “If it’s okay with you, though, I’d like to play a little prank on him. One with a happy ending. This was the first time I’ve seen him get excited about anything. I know he went through a lot. So… maybe this would be good for him?”
Laios leans forward in a familiar motion, reserving judgement but giving her ear for Kabru to murmur into. Her face quickly goes warm. For a career criminal, Laios is very easy to fluster… For Kabru, anyway.
When Kabru withdraws, Laios has that familiar gleam in her eyes. “Whoa—Kabru, you’re good. You mean like tag team? That’s epic. Let’s gettim.”
“On your signal, of course,” Kabru says firmly. Then he pauses again, taking Laios’ hand and fitting it to his bump. “Wait! Hold on, I think… They’ll do it again…”
With her other hand, Laios tenderly cups Kabru’s cheek and waits. Moments later, the smallest movement flutters against her palm. “Is that kicking?”
“I think so, yeah? Hah, it feels weird—I wanted them to say hello to mom, so sue me.”
“I would never sue you,” Laios says, deeply sincere, bending down to nuzzle the curve of Kabru’s body. “Hello to you too! I love you both, even though I know you aren’t sentient and can’t understand any of this, so. It’s the thought that counts! This is mom, by the way.”
Snorting, Kabru runs his fingers through Laios’ hair, sitting still while she kisses across his navel. This isn’t how he thought any of this would go—but he can’t imagine another way, now.
[AND THEN]
After a few days of mild to moderate teasing, it’s time to enact the plan. “I’m taking a break,” Kabru announces, getting up from his chair. He’d spent the whole afternoon overseeing a long thread of encrypted emails hashing out a new contract for contraband artifacts from the Tower of Night Cries Compound. Items that defy the orderly bend of reality don’t come cheap.
Mithrun steps back inside from the rear balcony, flicking his second cigarette of the day over the side. Perhaps over concern for Kabru, he’s been doing it less. “Need anything?” he asks, his dark eye betraying almost nothing, framed by his crooked nose and silver-grey hair. His gaze lingers.
“Hm?” Kabru raises both eyebrows. “I could use some help. You looked like you had something else to say, though. What’s on your mind?”
Flexing both hands and then tucking them in his pockets, Mithrun glances to the side. “You… Look good today, that’s all.”
“I appreciate it,” Kabru snorts, rubbing his stomach, “but I’ve certainly felt better. I think I’m getting stretch marks and it’s fucking up my tattoos.” He gives Mithrun a look that suggests and since I know you don’t care. “And between us, my chest is killing me. Am I also wrong in guessing you might like a break too? You can come to the spa if you want, bring a book, do whatever.”
Mithrun doesn’t smile, because he doesn’t do that, but he cocks his head in understanding. “I don’t mind. I… I can dip my feet.”
“Thanks,” Kabru says. “I just wish I could find my nice robe, I have no idea where it went! I’ll have to use one of Laios’. Don’t worry, since it’s just us, you can put on whatever you want.” He turns around before he can see whether Mithrun reacts to that.
The spa is probably the most egregious use of magic in The Castle, but Kabru is continuously grateful for it. The multiple bath pools and flowing streams of water covering the room are pumped in from the M3L1N1 Compound, deep beneath the upper ramparts. The magic practically heats the whole floor, which is also covered in tiles, strange plants, various perturbing pieces of furniture, and dark slits of windows that offer a hazy view of the world around. It’s also such a fucking waste—its other saving grace is that it often serves as a demonstration area for potential clients to see what artifacts can actually do.
Kabru puts on an over-large robe with a dragon embroidered on the front. It smells warm and familiar. He gets in the elevator. Mithrun, who can teleport between floors and hates the elevator, is already there. Surprisingly, he’s taken off his shirt, wrapping a towel around his waist. It’s unclear what, if anything, he’s wearing beneath that.
Better to let him relax. Kabru nods quietly, choosing a curved, soapstone seat on the edge of a green pool only a few feet deep. He plops his legs in the water, his sigh of contentment echoing much louder than he anticipated.
Meanwhile, Mithrun slowly wades into the shallows, casting ripples across the surface. “It’s weird,” he comments, sotto voce, “these things… In a lot of ways, they really are just tools. For a long time, I thought there was no simple use for what came out of the Compounds.”
“So did I,” Kabru admits, suddenly feeling quite honest. “It terrified me. But there’s no excuse for… For keeping the choice out of people’s hands. Locking these places up, no matter what lurks inside them. So I’m human. I’m fallible and I can’t handle it. So what makes the government any different? You can use artifacts for good, too.”
Mithrun clears his throat. Nods. He’s not looking at Kabru, hasn’t since he stepped into the room.
The silence builds, suffused with the rush of water. Kabru leans back on his outcropping, letting the smooth rock cradle his back. “Mithrun,” he says. “Do you have anything you want to tell me?”
“Yes,” Mithrun replies abruptly, his eye widening by a fraction. He clearly hadn’t meant to say that. He doesn’t elaborate.
“Mithrun,” Kabru says louder, smoothing out his voice, “I lied. I know what happened to my robe. And two pairs of my wife’s underwear. You’ve been busy this week, huh?”
His head jerks up, expression cold, but there’s something in his eye. “I can explain.”
Kabru grins, his skin prickling. “It’s okay, Mithrun. I know how you feel. I couldn’t help but notice. I wonder when that happened… I can help you out.” He slides his legs an inch apart, allows the robe to slip off his shoulders. “Are you following?”
There’s a snap in the air, a sudden displacement of water. Mithrun is thigh-deep in it, as intense as he has ever been. “What do you mean.” Cunning in his eye, as it roves Kabru’s body, mapping him from a foot away.
Kabru shifts forward, robe sliding down until it catches on his nipples, just barely hiding them. “I know you want me. It’s okay. If my wife caught you, she’d be really, reallllly mad. I don’t know what she’d do with you.” He takes a beat, noticing how the threat makes a hint of pink show on Mithrun’s face. “But I think you’ve been nothing but loyal and a good soldier, and you deserve a reward for your service.”
“You… How.” Mithrun demands quietly. He’s definitely hard, judging by how the damp towel clings in a new shape. “You’re serious.”
Kabru undoes his belt. “I’ll show you how serious,” he says, smiling coyly, spreading his legs even further and tracing a path up his abdomen. Most of his tattoos are visible now—the knife on his thigh, the pair of wheeling birds on his right side and the churning body of a bright-eyed sea serpent on the left, plus the stars on his collarbone (done himself, badly, as a teenager). Coincidentally, he is mostly naked now. He wanders one hand down over the gentle rise of his belly, through the dark triangle of hair beneath it, stopping just short of touching himself.
Breathing heavily, Mithrun watches in silence for a few more moments. He seems to consider his own body for only a second before gazing back at Kabru with pure intensity. Then he drops the towel, taking a step into Kabru’s space.
Mithrun isn’t entirely hairless after all. There’s a very short down of white hair around the base of his cock, which is slender and almost pretty, and can’t be more than five inches long. It twitches once, the upturned pink head bobbing. His balls look… well, full. Kabru holds in a laugh at the thought. Even so, they’re still pretty, tight and drawn up close to the base.
“Don’t be shy,” Kabru chastises, cupping his heavy, sore chest in both hands before leaning back and leaving Mithrun to his own devices. Whatever he does next, it would be entirely up to him.
Mithrun bends down, letting his length nudge the inside of Kabru’s thigh. “What… What would happen if the boss finds me fucking you?”
“Worst case scenario? You don’t wanna know. You can probably guess,” Kabru says, “Isn’t that a roll of the dice?” Mithrun’s dick throbs in response, bumping Kabru’s leg. Yeah, maybe he does like a challenge. “If you’re quick, no one will ever know. You can’t even get me pregnant! Kind of the ideal opportunity.”
Shuddering, Mithrun snaps. He touches Kabru brusquely, as though making sure he’s there, squeezing his tits, pinching one swollen, dark nipple—and at the same time, letting the head of his cock graze over Kabru’s entrance, warm and teasing.
Kabru suffuses a pained sound, his chest radiating sore heat. Still, there’s a pleasant feeling underneath. Without seemingly any awareness of just how sensitive Kabru is, Mithrun continues to poke and squeeze, feeling the weight of each in his palms, bouncing them, massaging them.
Little by little, the pain diminishes. Kabru realizes he hasn’t said a word, just panting wordlessly, raising his hips against Mithrun’s slow grinding. It’s interesting just to see what he’ll do next, given the choice, without prompting.
With a quiet grunt, Mithrun reaches down to adjust himself, sliding back and forth over Kabru’s sensitive entrance and swollen, twitching tdick. He’s clearly thinking, considering his options, but the longer he spends testing the water, the more he must be thinking—how it feels to want something, to want Kabru. That’s Kabru’s best guess. And any moment now, he won’t be able to handle it anymore.
He must be out of practice, movements unsure and unvarnished. Mithrun grips Kabru’s thighs, nails scraping against new itchy, purple patches of stretch marks. He stares at Kabru’s entrance, clumsily guides his dick to line it up, and with a few stuttering thrusts, pushes in.
Kabru doesn’t try to help him. It’s sort of entertaining, even if it doesn’t feel awesome, as well as flattering.
Because Mithrun gets lost, right away. He flattens himself against Kabru, their hips flush. He’s not the size Kabru is used to, so it doesn’t hurt. If Kabru’s impassive, faintly amused expression turns Mithrun off in any way, he doesn’t give that away. His breathing heavy, rasping out of his lungs, Mithrun ruts into Kabru without once pulling out, grinding and squirming like he can get deeper if he just puts his mind to it, if he just craves it badly enough.
Leaning back, Kabru just lets Mithrun do as he wishes. In a way, he’s relaxed—a weird form of massage, maybe.
Mithrun’s hair comes untucked, falling in his face, but he doesn’t stop. He murmurs something, fingers digging into Kabru’s hip. “Better than I imagined,” maybe?
He’s so gone that he doesn’t notice the elevator opening again, Laios stepping carefully out in the outfit Kabru had selected: simple gym clothes, as if she was just going to use the sauna in a sports bra and tight grey shorts. Mithrun doesn’t notice Laios approach, doesn’t notice her wading into the pool, the bands of water lapping at the backs of his legs.
Laios is a bad liar, and Kabru knows that. No matter how his wife tries to disguise it, she can’t put on an act for shit. Nevertheless, that’s of no consequence. “Hello Mithrun, what are we doing?” Laios asks sharply, trying to sound threatening and failing—but the glee comes through twisted in her eyes. Creepy.
Jerking up, Mithrun tries to get the jump, but he’s startled. Laios gets an arm around his chest, one hand gripping his chin from behind. “Not so fast! Hey!”
Mithrun could probably still teleport out of the hold and doesn’t. His cock throbs inside Kabru—for the first time, Kabru’s insides clench, pulsing with subtle pleasure.
“I wanted to test your loyalty, Mithrun,” Laios says, practically looming over him from behind. "I think you failed. I’m honestly really disappointed to see after all we’ve done for you, you’d betray my trust like this…” She stifles a laugh, which ekes out in an even creepier little way.
Kabru shudders. This is a version of Laios that he does, perversely, love to see. The danger is fake, but the sensation in his ribs is real.
Mithrun struggles, but he’s snared tightly. Anticipation crawls into his features, his parted lips caught on some desperate word. He doesn’t let go of Kabru’s hips. Paralyzed and aroused.
Taking her time, Laios squeezes his face, stroking his jaw. “My love. What do you think we should do with traitors like this? I’m feeling merciful today, so I’ll leave it to you.”
Ordinarily, it’s the other way around. Kabru wishes sometimes that he had half the restraint that his wife did.
“Maybe he can have a second chance? It’s rare to see him enjoy himself, after all.” Kabru winks at Mithrun, a subtle sign that it will be okay, that he’ll make it through the night with all his limbs intact. “I think he’s just out of his depth, maybe he needs some pointers from an expert! You can teach him a lesson—tell him how to fuck me, how you do it.”
“Can you do it?” Laios asks, earnestly. “Prove you’re obedient again?”
Mithrun can’t nod, but he groans quietly. “Yes, please. I can… I’ll learn…”
Laios grins. “Do exactly as I say then. You have to be nice to my Kabru, or else.” She strokes Mithrun’s silver hair away from his face. “You’re holding his legs wrong, he’s flexible—push them back. Be gentle.”
Shivering visibly, Mithrun releases his grip and repositions, bending Kabru’s knees up and out until Laios is satisfied.
Kabru tries to be patient, gently running a hand around the gentle rise of his stomach again. It looks much more obvious in this pose, framed by his legs.
“You have to touch him too,” Laios says, “Touch him because he’s beautiful and deserves everything you have to give.” Meanwhile, she strokes Mithrun’s torso with her free hand, roaming the wiry, taut muscles, exploring divots of pale pink scar tissue.
Obediently, Mithrun runs his fingers over the place where he and Kabru are joined, feeling the stretch of Kabru’s lips, a sudden gush of wetness on his fingertips, circling Kabru’s dick. “Yes,” Mithrun rasps, “he is.”
“You can’t be selfish with him,” Laios continues firmly. “Like this.” She releases Mithrun’s jaw, going for the jut of his hip-bones and pulling him out of Kabru, and when only his head is left inside, pushing him back down hard—angling his hips, making it look easy.
Even through a proxy, there’s real force in the thrust. Kabru shudders, and goes slack, tension flooding out of the muscles in his thighs and back. “That’s right, like that,” he says, his gasps just on the verge of a much more pathetic sound. “Laios, he needs your help—”
Laios does it again, and Mithrun gets the idea. His body, although lithe, can be exceptionally powerful. Right away, he’s moving with purpose, his eye hard and gleaming with desire—silver, like a knife. He pistons in and out, making every inch of his cock count, bottoming out every time with a wet, solid smack.
Kabru whines, involuntarily. Words catch in his throat. Half of his pleasure is imaginary, empathetic, just feeling Mithrun’s balls tighten and ache as they collide. “Mithrun, fuck… Keep going, you got it!”
“Did you hear that?” From behind, Laios makes eye contact with Kabru, drinking in everything. “He likes it. I’m thinking I’ll spare you.” She licks the side of Mithrun’s neck, grazing his trapezius with her teeth.
Gasping, Kabru arches his back, letting the pleasure sweep everything away until he doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds—until he can’t control it. “G-god, please, harder!”
He performs. For himself, for his wife. For Mithrun, pounding into his cunt as though compelled by divine revelation. He squirms on his perch, cradling his chest in both hands. “You’re doing s-so good for us, ah- OH shit, SHIT, Mithrun!”
With an animalesque groan, Mithrun flinches, his whole face suddenly painted with desperation—to have Kabru and, equally important, not to cum. “Please,” he moans simply, summarizing his problem. “Laios—Uh…”
“Do you want to cum inside him? I can confirm, it’s nice. I bet you think about doing it a lot, huh?” Laios asks, almost innocent, before reaching down to grip Mithrun’s cock around the base. “I always ask permission, though. Kabru, baby, is he allowed?”
Kabru grinds his hips up, as much as he can. “Is he still in?” he asks, panting. “Hah, only joking. I want to hear him say it. He h-has to ask me…”
Mithin swallows hard, his forehead flushed with humidity and sweat. “K-Kabru, I want—please, can I… Finish like this?”
Smirking, Kabru nods once. “But you’ll have to clean me up.”
Laios releases Mithrun only then, but he barely needs to move to bury himself completely in Kabru, growling something incoherent as he finally hits his limit.
“Now clean up your mess,” Laios hums, pulling Mithrun out of Kabru the second he stops twitching, bending his head down. “It’s good manners!”
“Maybe,” Kabru pants, his gaze not shifting once from Laios’s face as Mithrun bends forward and laps at his own cum, “maybe you should just let my wife show you how to do it.” Laios is hard—he can see that, now that Mithrun has shifted out of the way, and Kabru didn’t even get to finish, and he feels… Hungry. He isn’t done. He wants her, and he wants Mithrun to be good and watch.
And Laios, so strong and warm, Laios waits for Mithrun to move just enough before sweeping Kabru into her arms, picking him up fully, forcing him to link his ankles behind her back and slide down against her (barely) clothed erection. Laios kisses him hard, and Kabru bites her mouth—out of affection and ownership, wanting to flaunt this.
Kabru, the moment he can speak again, gives Laios a simple instruction. “Sit.”
So Laios sits on a ledge, her thighs halfway sunk in the warm, aromatic water, Kabru straddling her lap and ruining her shorts.
“You too,” Kabru tells Mithrun, smiling brightly. “Pay attention.”
So Mithrun slowly, carefully, kneels on the same ledge. He’s silent, save for his breath, thick and raw in his chest. His softening cock twitches on his thighs, a final drop of cum beading at his slit but not falling, and he doesn’t wipe it away.
“You’re perfect,” Laios says, stroking Kabru’s belly, the bottom of his ribs, his shockingly dark, painfully hard nipples, the dark curls of hair between his breasts. “Kabru. I love you.”
A bolt of raw emotion and need pierces Kabru, ripping him open and surgically cauterizing him back together.
They don’t always make love, the two of them. Sometimes they fuck. Sometimes they just have sex. But just then, Kabru feels the urge to pour himself into Laios, to do it because Mithrun is watching. He presses himself to her—his wife—embracing her.
He doesn’t need to worry about anything. Her hands are everywhere, clutching him, smoothing curls out of his face, squeezing his ass, holding down his hips. His pussy aches, another tiny stream of Mithrun’s cum slipping out of him, which makes him shudder again.
“Don’t.” Laios says, soft and patient. “We’ll get to you, wait your turn.”
Kabru opens his eyes, glimpsing Mithrun struggling to sit on his hands as his cock perks up once more. Poor guy. It’s endearing. There are other things to worry about, though.
Like Laios slipping off her shorts and losing them in the water; the delicious, heat of her length, uncut and heavy, curved upwards and bobbing against her soft lower belly; the good hurt, the stretch of her, making him cry out as she fills him.
“I’ve got you,” Laios murmurs to him, her face intense and tender at the same time. “Mmm—he did a good job getting you ready for me…”
Already, Kabru’s self-control is shattered. He seats himself, grinding down on her lap as hard as he can before holding on tight and letting his body take over.
Neither of them speaks. Kabru isn’t sure if he could. He lets himself whine and cry out to her, desperate to show her (and Mithrun) his pleasure, needing to show it off. When Laios slips a hand between their bodies, warm fingers so easy for Kabru to grind on, he chokes out a pathetic sob of ecstasy.
He’s about to cum, he’s been about to cum forever, but the thing that pushes him over the line is the echo of Mithrun’s begging—an incoherent whisper under his breath, but so full of lust that it makes Kabru’s skin prickle.
He gasps and stiffens, determined to ride it out, but his legs give up on him. He falls into Laios’ chest, clamping down on her cock and nuzzling into her cleavage. Only a few moments later, he distantly feels the very familiar throb of Laios following suit, hard, warm spurts filling him up to the brim and spilling over, coating both of their laps.
“That’s… That’s how you do it,” Kabru rasps, his face burning. Slowly, he sits up and shifts back, letting Mithrun watch as he painstakingly lifts himself free.
Mithrun, for his part, had obeyed orders. His dick looks downright painful, having recovered quickly and then some. He hadn’t touched himself at all.
“You can help him, I think he’s more than earned it,” Laios says, still out of breath. “Now I’ll watch! If that’s okay?”
Kabru answers with a nod, pulling himself together. Reluctantly, feeling the water wash between his legs, he kneels down in the water and beckons Mithrun forward. “Closer. Closer, so I can see you. What do you want?”
“You to touch me,” Mithrun murmurs, “I… I can’t take it, watching that… I’ll go crazy, please… Please.”
His jaw tingling, Kabru suddenly wants very badly to grant his wish. “Sit back. There—let me.” He licks his lips, lowering his head to Mithrun’s cock and brushing a stripe up the underside with his mouth. When it pulses, bumping against Kabru’s lips, he almost starts laughing but restrains himself.
Sitting up a little more, Kabru pushes his tits together, just to test how it feels. He has some idea that Mithrun would like this. “You jerk off to me when I’m not around,” Kabru explains, guiding Mithrun’s length into his cleavage before trapping it there. “I figured you’d be happy jerking off on me, when I’m right here. Something like that.” He’d never be able to do this with Laios, but at this moment, when it’s Mithrun’s slender cock and his tits feel twice their normal size, at least? Yeah, it’s not difficult at all.
Mithrun can’t control himself, he wasn’t lying. His muscles trembling, he jerks his hips up, groaning loudly. Then his voice cracks, surprisingly high-pitched and breathy. He fucks Kabru’s tits as though experiencing pleasure for the very first time, too slow to break right away, but quick and clumsy. Each thrust more desperate and stuttering than the last. His moans are… Musical. A little sweet.
“You can finish on me,” Kabru says, keeping his voice gentle. “You can cum for me. When you’re ready, I want it. I really, really want it.”
“Yes,” Mithrun says, his eye falling shut again. Needing no other prompting, his hips leap off the smooth tile, the tip of his dick poking between Kabru’s breasts and—Kabru feels the first splatter of cum on his cheek and chin, the second (much messier) all over his chest, the third and fourth trickling down lower. The mess obscures the scribbled stars on Kabru's collarbone.
Feeling completely filthy, Kabru sticks out his tongue to lick a drop off his face. “Exactly like that.”
Helpfully, Laios pipes up again. “Listen, Mithrun, I just want to make sure you know—you’re not really in trouble! We talked about doing this and all beforehand, so there’s nothing wrong with it, it was Kabru’s idea! Just in case you thought, y’know, I was gonna remember this or something. For a bad reason.”
“I just… I thought it might be nice? That you might like something like this. And I—well, as you can see, I’m going through a lot right now, okay? I just thought…” Kabru sighs, suddenly a bit embarrassed.
Mithrun slumps down, looking between the both of them before a very small, shockingly sweet smile flickers onto his lips. “Oh. Oh, don’t worry. I guessed. And you were right. It was nice. It was exactly what I needed.”
