Steve hadn’t realized that Dylan had come as well. The combination of August working his hole and Ryker fucking his throat must have pushed him over the edge.
“Those look very big.”
Dylan’s voice sounded nervous.
“Don’t worry, I’ve stretched you enough that it should just be a little uncomfortable,” August said. “Why don’t you let Ryker distract you by putting his balls on your face.”
Steve smirked, looking around for something to clean up the mess he’d made of the wall and floor as he listened to August finally start the process of removing the shampoo bottle from Dylan’s ass.
He found a box of tissues under the desk in the reception, but the box was only half-full and he only managed to clean up the worst of the mess on the wall. A bathroom a few doors down yielded better results. Steve found a roll of paper towels which he used to wipe up the rest of his mess, though the hallway still smelled like come when he was done.
Hopefully the smell would clear up by Monday morning when people came into the clinic for work.
While he’d been working, August finally managed to get the bottle of shampoo out of Dylan’s ass.
It sounded like a painful process, and Steve still couldn’t understand why something that Dylan had been able to push into his ass without any problems would be so difficult to get out.
Dylan was breathing hard, August muttering encouragement and telling him what a good boy he was.
Steve walked back to the bathroom with his pile of come-stained tissues and paper towels, shoving them into the bin next to the sink. He emerged just as August and Ryker came out of the examination room, Dylan standing between them with a relieved, happy look on his face.
When Dylan spotted him, his face turned red and he quickly looked away.
“You cleaned up after yourself,” Ryker said, looking at the wall where Steve had sprayed it with come.
“I figured I should,” Steve said, not particularly embarrassed. He actually kind of liked how the hallway smelled like he’d marked his territory.
“You missed a spot,” Ryker said, nodding towards Steve’s boots. Steve looked down, and sure enough, a few splatters of come stained the leather.
“I guess I did.”
Hooking his thumbs in his jacket pockets, he wondered where Ryker was going with this. There was no way he was going to bend down and wipe his boots clean.
“They’re nice boots,” Ryker commented, biting his lip and looking playful. He put his hand on Dylan’s neck and gave him a small push forward. “Dylan, don’t you think you should help Steve out so that he doesn’t ruin his nice boots?”
Dylan frowned, looking confused, but Steve immediately got it. His cock surged back to life, pressing against his jeans like he hadn’t just come harder than he had since he was a teenager.
Dylan looked up at Ryker with a scrunched-up brow, looking adorable. “What do you mean?”
“Seriously?” August asked, sounding resigned but not objecting. Ryker grinned, pushing Dylan ahead of him and putting both hands on his shoulders. He squeezed down, applying pressure and forcing Dylan to strain not to bend his knees.
“You’re the reason he made a mess. I think you should help him get clean.”
Dylan hesitated, still resisting Ryker’s hands on his shoulders, not taking the hint that he should be getting on his knees.
He looked at Steve, gaze flitting from his face to his boots and back, and then over his shoulder at Ryker.
“Do you have a tissue or something I could use?”
Ryker chuckled, sounding wolfish as he pushed Dylan another step forward and forced him down. “You don’t need a tissue, you have your tongue, don’t you? Get down on your knees and lick Steve’s boots clean.”
Instead of gracefully sinking to his knees, the force on Dylan’s shoulders had him falling back and landing on his ass between Ryker’s legs. He looked up at the three werewolves surrounding him, his face red and his eyes blown wide open.
“You don’t have to,” August said, his voice gruff. “It’s your choice.”
Steve looked at him, surprised. He wasn’t surprised that August was giving Dylan an out, but rather that he seemed reluctant to do so.
“Of course, it’s your choice,” Ryker said, crouching down and grabbing Dylan’s waist. He lifted him up and put him down on his knees, making him cry out in surprise, giving him a push toward Steve. “But it would be really hot if you did.”
