He had stopped dancing, stopped touching himself, and looked startled by his own exclamation.
I wasn’t. I rarely kissed others unless bidden to and had anticipated his disruption.
“I do not like your mouth on another’s,” Nakht admitted. “I would have you kiss only me. If you also agree. And I will kiss no other again either.”
Unwinding one of my arms from behind Osiris’s head, I outstretched it toward Nakht, beckoning him closer. “Then come and claim the lips that are yours.”
Nakht moved swiftly, but as he reached us, he slowed enough to remember to feel the music, swaying his hips and trying to be patient. He finished his trek to us with the grace he often denied he had and grasped my chin to tilt my head up for a kiss.
Osiris smelled like cool metal and incense, but Nakht carried the scent and taste of the dew at dawn. When we parted, we both continued to move with the music, but less of a dance now and more gyrations as we climbed together into Osiris’s lap, me to the left and Nakht the right as we straddled his thighs.
He tipped backward but supported us with ease.
“May I kiss other things?” I asked Nakht coyly.
“Yes.” He chuckled and looked at Osiris with the wonder a god deserved. He felt down Osiris’s neck over the golden sealant there, then circled his pecs, which were bisected down the middle with a similar line, and finished in a figure eight over his nipples. “Our lord is beautiful. Masterful in your recreation. Remade in love without hiding your imperfections but glorifying them.”
Yes. How poetically Nakht said it, and all so true.
“As love should be,” Osiris agreed.
“Perfect in its imperfectness,” I said. “I like that.” I touched the god too, following the same path that Nakht had, only starting with the other side.
Where our hands met in the center of Osiris’s chest, we laced our fingers together, turned to each other, and kissed as ravenously as if we had only just reunited.
I heard the increased panting from Osiris while he watched us, enjoying how we writhed atop him amidst our locked lips. Our hard cocks kept bumping into his hips through our red and blue fabrics, but neither met his length between us yet. As we kissed, licking lewdly into each other’s mouths now, purposely messy and frantic, I reached with my free hand to trace lower down Osiris’s stomach and felt him suck in a breath.
I peeked at Nakht, finding him also peeking at me, and then his eyes darted to my drifting touch, where I feathered my fingers around Osiris’s navel. Nakht mimicked the motion,forever my twin when it came to dancing or seduction, whether I moved first or he did.
It was such a strange texture for skin, truly as if Osiris was made of polished metal or marble or maybe even delicate ceramic. Yet despite the filled-in cracks where he had once been in pieces, I knew we could not break him.
“Pull us against you, my lord,” I said, tearing my mouth from Nakht’s at last, and quickly brushing the fall of our loincloths out of the way.
Osiris did as asked, arms encircling us and tugging us close enough upon his lap that our cocks finally touched. To feel him and that same strange texture, while also feeling Nakht—my Nakht, my dawn, hot and familiar—sent inspiration flowing through me, and I remembered the music.
This was a different dance, but to me, it was all alwaysdance, the roll of my hips and arch of my neck, telling my watchers, my partners, just how much I wanted their passion, and for them to witness mine. Soon, we were all achingly hard and starting to grind wherever we could find purchase, and Osiris—
“Ah!”
“Ohhh!”
Nakht and I overlapped with our mewling as the dribble of Osiris’s prerelease mixed with ours. It didn’t only look like molten gold, it felt like it too, like the spill of hot wax or oil, further spurring us to grind harder into his heat.
If we didn’t move things along, I was going to make a mess all over Osiris’s lap.
I took Nakht’s hand in mine and brought it down behind me, up under the back of my loincloth for him to feel the soft mounds of my backside and the tempting crease between.
“You want me inside you?” he asked, already teasing his fingers closer to my opening.
“Yes… and me inside Osiris.”
“Yes,” Nakht echoed with a flash of his bronze eyes. “But I would also have—”
Something glinted near the head of the bed, and when we looked…
It was us!
So startled, I nearly tipped backward, but Osiris had me, had us both, and easily kept hold. The image behind the bed was us, but not true copies. It was simply the clearest reflecting surface I had ever laid eyes on, like the stillest water or smoothest metal.
