Perry is the first to break the silence, letting out a low whistle. “Oh, Abel,” he says, his voice reverent. “That was fucking beautiful.” He strokes Abel’s hair, brushing the sweat-soaked strands from his forehead, and Abel leans into the touch hard, like a plant needing light. Then Perry flicks his gaze to me, his eyes crinkling with mischief.
I laugh, and Abel’s choked giggle follows, less desperate this time. He looks down at his own chest, then Perry’s palm, and surprising me to no end, Abel brings Perry’s sticky hand up and licks a long, wet stripe up the center, from heel to fingertip. He tastes himself, then lowers his eyes, cheeks flaming, and for a split second he looks impossibly shy before he grins.
“Okay,” Abel says, voice hoarse. “I think I’m dead. But if this is what being dead is like, I’m not mad about it.” Then hecollapses onto his side, giggling, and both Perry and I move to cage him in a fort made of our bodies. Perry bands his arms around Abel’s chest, and I splay my hand over his hip, thumb idly tracing circles where skin slopes into bone. The air’s thick with pheromones and the honeyed musk of fucking, but even sweeter is the warmth of Abel’s body pressed between us, so thoroughly and perfectly trapped.
Perry nuzzles into Abel’s neck, inhaling deeply like he’s imprinting this precise moment forever. “We should clean up our Beta,” he murmurs, voice all velvet. “He’s so messy.” He plants a kiss just below Abel’s ear, licking up a bead of sweat, and Abel shivers again, this time in obvious pleasure.
I smirk. “What about me? I’m pretty sure I’m covered, too.”
Perry slides his gaze over my body, eyes going heavy-lidded. “You can wait. Abel got the worst of it.” His tongue darts out, catlike, and he leans down to lap at the pearly streaks on Abel’s stomach. The noises Abel makes, half-moan, half-squeal, are so honest and primal I fight my body to keep from getting hard again.
Abel’s curiosity is a living thing, and he doesn’t stay content for long. He swipes a finger through the cum on his chest, considers it, and then sucks it into his mouth. His tongue licks over his teeth, as if he’s trying to decide if he likes the taste.
Perry makes a sound of delight, and claps his hands. “Abel, you’re a natural. Look at you.”
Abel’s ears go scarlet. “Shut up,” he mutters, but the words are soft, playful. He glances down at my cock, not even pretending he’s not curious. “You didn’t come yet, though.” His voice goes smaller. “Do you want me to…”
I have to bite my cheek to keep from groaning. Abel’s so earnest, and it flips some switch in me I didn’t know I had. “You don’t have to,” I say. “Not unless you want to.”
Abel chews his lower lip, then slides his hand along my thigh. His palm is hot, a little shaky, but he doesn’t pull away. “I want to,” he says, almost to himself. “I want to see if I can.”
Perry leans up on his elbow, grinning like some kind of sex demon. “Do you want me to show you how, sweetness?” He’s not even pretending to hide the way his dick twitches at the idea.
“I kind of want to try it myself, first,” Abel says. He glances at me, as if expecting me to laugh at him. “Is that okay?”
I nod. “It’s more than okay.”
Abel pushes himself up, wobbly at first. He kneels next to us, scanning both our bodies. “I want to suck both your dicks,” he says, voice trembling but determined. “Stay where you are.”
I share a look with Perry, and he shrugs, settling in beside me with an exaggerated stretch. Abel trembles, but not with fear. He starts with Perry, reaching out with both hands. He cups Perry’s cock, running his thumb over the tip, and Perry lets his head fall back against the sheets, moaning aloud.
Abel’s first movement is cautious, almost scientific. He bends low, nose nearly touching Perry’s skin, just breathing him in. His throat bobs as he swallows, maybe fighting a wave of nerves or anticipation. Then he licks, just a single stripe from the base to the head, and Perry twitches in response, a soft “oh” escaping him.
I’m not sure if Abel expected that reaction, but it clearly delights him. He glances up at me, looking for approval or maybe just permission, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. “Good?” I ask.
He nods, then licks again, a little more confidently. Again, Perry’s hips jerk, and Abel grins wide. “He likes it,” Abel says, voice full of wonder.
“I love it,” Perry agrees.
Abel takes his time, mapping the territory with slow, deliberate moves. He laps the length, circling the crown, thenpulls back to watch as Perry’s cock twitches from the attention. When he finally takes the tip into his mouth, Perry makes a strangled, desperate sound. Abel’s eyes go wide, the feeling, maybe, or just the raw power of it, and then he goes back in, bobbing his head a little deeper, working out the rhythm. His tongue darts around the slit, and he pulls off with a messy, satisfied grin.
Perry’s panting now, his whole body tensed like a bowstring. “You’re a fucking natural, sweetness,” he says, voice nearly wrecked.
Abel glances at me, pride and need warring on his face. “Can I…” He gestures toward my cock.
I can’t even find words. Maybe the language center of my brain has shut down, maybe the rest of my body needs all available bandwidth to just process the feeling of Abel kneeling between Perry and me, gingerly wrapping both hands around my cock. He’s careful at first, as if he’s handling a priceless book, but his curiosity is ravenous, he keeps glancing up at me, at Perry, like he’s searching for a sign that he’s doing it right. The sight of Abel so focused and eager sends a hot, raw spike straight to the base of my spine.
He leans forward, a little awkward, and hesitates with his mouth hovering just over the head. Then, as if making a decision, he goes for it. Lips part, tongue flicks out, and his mouth glides down over me. Just the tip at first, then a little more, but not much more. I’m probably too big for him.
I let out a strangled sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a prayer, and Abel freezes, alarmed, but when I tangle my hand in his hair and nod encouragement, he resumes, even bolder this time. His lips are so soft, his tongue even softer, and he keeps up this careful, almost scientific rhythm, like he’s collecting data with every motion.
I try to keep still, but my hips have a mind of their own. Abel seems to like the feedback. Every time I twitch or grunt, he stops, retraces his last move, and then repeats it, like he’s marking it down in a ledger for future use. The next time he glances up, his eyes are bright and hungry. I can’t help but smile back at him, though I’m pretty sure it’s more of a grimace at this point.
Perry, meanwhile, is propped up on one elbow, observing with rapt, appreciative attention. “You look so good like that,” he purrs, low and reverent. His hand strokes Abel’s back, slow and firm, a tactile vote of confidence. “Taking care of our Alpha. So proud of you, sweetness.”
The praise makes something in Abel light up. He redoubles his efforts, sucking a bit harder, and I have to dig my hands into the mattress to keep from thrusting up into his mouth. He works his way down my shaft, then pulls back, making this wet little pop that sounds obscene in the quiet of the room. His hands squeeze more purposefully, stroking in time with his mouth, and the coordination nearly does me in.
“Oh, fuck, Abel,” I manage to grind out, my voice cracked and breathless. “You don’t have to, fuck, just, only if you want.” The words sound ridiculous even as I say them, but I need him to know he can stop at any time.
