They walked through the park, winding their way towards the performance area on the west side. It was a beautiful evening, the path busy with joggers, cyclists and people out for walks just like them, with a delightful breeze that kept him from being too hot. Sebastian usually preferred to wear shorts in the summer, and when he saw they were going to the park, he’d been worried that he would be too warm.
As it was, he was perfectly comfortable.
The performance section of the park was centered around a wide lawn, with a gently sloping hill on one side and an artificial lake on the other. Performances were usually held on a floating stage anchored so close to the shore that you could cross over with a jump. When they arrived, the performers were already on the stage, setting up and tuning their instruments and chatting amongst themselves.
“On the hill?” Viggo said, nodding toward the hill where a number of people had already started to claim their spaces.
“Sure,” Bjorn said, looking down at Sebastian. “Sebastian?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Taking the lead, his hand still on the back of Sebastian’s neck, Viggo led them to a spot near the top of the hill, off to the side, prioritizing privacy over a good view of the stage.
“This looks good,” he said, dropping his grip on Sebastian’s neck and taking off his backpack. He crouched down, putting the bag on the ground and opening it up. He reached inside and pulled out a blanket, handing it to Bjorn. “Put that down, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Bjorn said, unfolding the blanket and draping it over the ground. “Did you order the picnic package from Moonstrum?”
Viggo nodded, reaching into the bag and unloading a series of packages wrapped in parchment paper and tied with twine. At Sebastian’s curious look, he explained. “Bjorn and I usually order a picnic package for the full moon so that we have something to eat in the morning. It’s indulgent, and I’ll drop you off a cliff if you ever tell another werewolf about it, but we like it.”
“We’re fancy,” Bjorn added. He took a seat on the blanket and stretched out his legs, boots positioned off the blanket, and leaned back on his elbows. He was grinning, clearly referencing an inside joke judging by the way Viggo rolled his eyes.
“Werewolves don’t approve of picnics?” Sebastian asked, looking at the growing pile of packages. They looked fancy, the brown twine wrapped around them tied into cute little bows, and exactly what he’d expect an expensive picnic package to look like. Viggo finished unpacking by pulling out a bottle of wine and a big bottle of water, shaking his head to Sebastian’s question.
“You’re supposed to hunt for your food on the full moon, which Bjorn and I do, but it’s nice to have something civilized when you wake up.”
Bjorn dropped down on his back so that he was lying flat, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun. He glanced over at Sebastian. “My old pack used to take over the local diner after every full moon and gorge ourselves on pancakes, bacon and eggs. Viggo just comes from a very traditional pack, so he gets embarrassed by the fact that he likes his creature comforts.”
The comment startled Sebastian. “You’re not from the same pack?”
Bjorn laughed. “No, not at all. Viggo had challenged my old alpha because he wouldn’t release me to go with him. It was brutal.”
“It was fine,” Viggo said, brusque and clearly not comfortable with the topic. Bjorn lifted back up on his elbows, grinning at Sebastian.
“It worked out in the end. I got to go with Viggo, and my family has mostly come to terms with it. My old alpha still hates him, though.”
“He can hate me all he wants,” Viggo grumbled, taking a seat on the blanket. “As long as he doesn’t try and take you back.”
Still standing, looking down at Viggo and Bjorn sitting next to each other, Viggo sitting up straight and Bjorn lounging back comfortably, Sebastian felt suddenly very much on the outside. Then Viggo looked up at him, and without saying a word, he nodded down at the space between him and Bjorn.
With a flutter in his stomach, Sebastian stepped over Viggo’s legs and took a seat in the narrow space between the two werewolves. It was a tight fit, made even tighter when Bjorn spread his legs wider and sat up straight, mirroring Viggo’s position. Once again, Sebastian’s peripheral vision was entirely made up of bulging pecs.
Reaching over, Viggo started moving the parchment-wrapped packages, handing some to Bjorn and Sebastian before starting to unwrap the ones he’d kept for himself.
“Just put them down wherever,” Viggo said, placing a bundle of beef skewers down between his thighs, folding the parchment they’d been wrapped in into a makeshift serving platter. He grinned at Sebastian, nodding down at the puff pastries he’d unwrapped. “Those are really good.”
With no room between his legs, Viggo and Bjorn’s thighs leaving no space for him to sit with his legs spread, Sebastian put the pastries down on his lap and started opening the next package.
“This is a lot of food,” he said when they were done unpacking, looking down and around at all the food that had been laid out on his lap, on Viggo and Bjorn’s meaty thighs, and between the two alpha’s legs. It all looked delicious.
“Dig in,” Viggo told him, grabbing one of the pastries on Sebastian’s lap and popping it into his mouth. Cheeks bulging as he chewed, he shot a closed-mouthed grin down at Sebastian. The expression made him look endearingly goofy.
Sebastian selected a miniature steamed bun with pork, plucking it off Bjorn’s thigh, and took a bite. Soft, perfectly steamed bread and sweet pork flavor exploded on his tongue, and Sebastian moaned.
“Good, right?” Bjorn said, taking one for himself and pushing the whole thing into his mouth. Sebastian nodded, eating the second half of his and scanning the selection for what he should try next.
“Oh, and we have wine,” Viggo said, grabbing the bottle from where it lay next to his backpack in the grass. He pushed his finger down on the cork, a sharp claw suddenly emerging and stabbing into the top of the bottle. Sebastian jerked, staring at the claw with wide eyes, heart pounding as Viggo curled his finger and yanked the cork out of the bottle. Viggo bit the cork between his teeth and pulled it off his claw, and right in front of Sebastian’s eyes, the sharp point retracted back into his finger.
“We don’t have glasses. You don’t mind drinking right out of the bottle, do you?” He held the bottle out for Sebastian, frowning at his wide-eyed look. “You don’t like wine?”
