For the first ten minutes of being on Carver’s back while he rode his motorcycle, Peter felt like he was on a roller coaster. He had no control—no ability to move his body to control his center of gravity—and Carver was riding much faster than he’d anticipated.
It was both thrilling and scary, but as the clock ticked on, Peter got used to the movement and the ride didn’t seem quite so intense anymore. Relaxing, Peter was able to focus on the scenery they were passing by, the quiet back roads lined with towering green trees as far as the eye could see.
After a while, they reached the coast, the smell of the ocean filling Peter’s nose, and as they drove along the road, Peter looked out at the waves and the water with a smile on his face.
After what felt like an hour or two, Carver pulled off the coastal road and drove a few minutes until they reached a diner. He parked the bike, Tex pulling up next to them, and took off his helmet, running a gloved hand through his hair.
Looking over his shoulder, Peter stared at the diner. It was a little run down, the sign faded and the parking lot pavement cracked, but it looked cozy.
It hadn’t been that long since breakfast, so Peter wasn’t sure why they were stopping at a diner.
“You want to eat?” Tex asked, pulling off his own helmet and looking at Carver.
“No, I figured we could get some coffee before we go further, and I wanted to check in with Peter back here.”
As he spoke, Carver unbuckled the straps keeping Peter’s arms and legs wrapped around his torso. He then climbed off the bike and pulled the straps coming from the front of Peter’s suit over his shoulders, taking Peter off like a kid removing his backpack after school.
“I’ll help,” Tex said when Carver started to crouch down, blindly trying to get Peter to his feet without dropping him. He walked up behind him and caught him around his waist, lowering him down gently. “There you go,” he said, helping him take off his helmet.
Even though he was free from Carver’s back, Peter was still helpless, the closed sleeves of his suit meaning that he couldn’t use his hands—and with the legs of the suit all bunched up under his feet, walking would be cumbersome.
Looking down at his arms, his hands trapped in leather, long straps dangling from the ends of his arms, he still felt thoroughly tied up.
“There are zippers,” Carver said, noticing his expression. He took Peter’s arm, finding the top of a small zipper over his wrist and pulling it down, creating an opening for his hand to push through. “See?”
Peter grinned. For a second there, he’d thought that he wouldn’t have the use of his hands until they got home.
“It’s the same for your feet,” Carver said. Then he frowned, looking down the length of Peter’s legs. “But I forgot to bring shoes. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Peter said, using his now free hand to undo the zipper on his left arm, before bending down and freeing his feet as well. “I’ll go barefoot.”
Looking at his suit, he noticed that there were small buckles on his arms and calves where the straps could be fastened so that they wouldn’t be in the way, so he spent a few seconds fastening them.
The straps coming out of his chest—the ones that turned him into a backpack—didn’t have anything similar, and Peter resigned himself to looking like some kind of strap person.
“We’ll carry you,” Carver said, still frowning down at his feet. “We don’t want you to cut yourself on anything.”
“I can walk,” Peter protested, jumping away when Carver tried to grab him. “I’ll be careful.”
Carver looked like he wanted to protest, but he nodded instead. Peter was relieved. He really needed to stretch his legs after having them tied around Carver’s waist the whole ride there.
“So, coffee?” Tex said, walking next to Peter and draping his arm over his shoulder. His leather riding suit clung to his muscular arm and wide shoulders, making him look like some kind of futuristic super-soldier, and Peter wondered if maybe he could get him to wear the outfits when he knotted him sometime.
Peter would very much like to sit on Tex’s lap, stuffed full of his knot, while the alpha’s gloved hands played with his nipples. Just the thought of it made Peter’s cock press against the crotch of his own suit, his hole getting wet and leaking slick down the inside of his thigh.
“Coffee,” Carver agreed, coming up on Peter’s other side, adding his arm to the one already draped over his shoulders and curling his hand down over Peter’s chest, grabbing one of the straps like a handle.
Peter didn’t mind being the middle of an alpha sandwich, his two alphas towering over him and holding him tight between them.
* * *
Inside,Tex and Carver led Peter to a booth by the window where they could look out at the view and keep an eye on their bikes. Carver slid in first, pulling Peter down to sit next to him with a smug smirk up at Tex.
Tex, rather than do the reasonable thing and take the seat across from them, grinned and told them to scoot over.
“Really?” Peter asked, Tex sliding into the seat next to him and squishing him into Carver’s body.
“I want to sit next to you,” Tex said, grabbing the strap on Peter’s chest and lifting him up so that he could put him on his lap. Carver tried to snatch him and pull him onto his lap, but Tex was too fast getting his arm around him.
