Chapter Fifteen
"They've whittled down our numbers, and slain our friends and comrades," Sergiy said to the surviving four guardians in his pack. "But we just need one last push to put an end to all of this. Ready? Let's move! Take the throne!"
Yacob kicked the door open, but made it a mere two steps before a beam of light arced across his body, leaving behind a glowing residue. With an overly dramatic howl, he threw a bolas across the room as he fell to the ground.
His 'death' had bought the rest of them an opening, however. Mary, Bridget, and Auguste charged in right after, shifting into their smaller animal forms to dodge the magical attacks. As lynx, wolverine, and wolf, they navigated over and underneath the tables and benches in the Great Hall to engage with two of the last defenders.
Ignoring his watching parents and the other spectators from their spot at the High Table, Sergiy came up behind his packmates, his wooden staff at the ready as he waited for the surprise he could feel was coming.
There!
Rolling to the side, he parried a descending sword-strike as his sister fell out of the rafters.
"Ha, nearly got you!" she crowed, harrying him with follow-up strikes while he regained his footing. "Dance with me, little brother! I mean, evil spirit king. Awoo!"
Sergiy itched to shift into his weredrake form, but for today's training, dire and werebeast forms were forbidden, limiting them to their animal and person shapes. This meant that though he still had forty or so pounds on his sister, she had both height and reach.
Still, he wasn't Bastion's warlord for nothing, and he spun his staff, neatly disarming her. Before he could land a blow on her person, though—
"Catch!"
Marka caught the sword just in time to prevent Sergiy's thrust. He circled around, looking past her.
Mary, Bridget, and Auguste were down, according to the glowing red lines across their bodies courtesy of a lengthy enchantment cast by Roland, but at least they'd taken out Lux. The defending team's witch had propped himself up on an out of the way table, and was watching them with interest.
As Markos picked up Marka's disarmed sword for himself, Sergiy hazarded a glance at the row of candles decorating the wall. The defender's row only had two still lit by blue flame. His own row… he quickly turned his eyes back to his opponents, giving away nothing.
"Just you two left, then?" he asked, pacing to the side as his siblings moved to surround him. "Yar, but Bastion shall fall ere the end of day, or my name isn't Bumble Bee-ard, the Bee-nevolent!"
"Brother, that is an atrocious pirate accent, and even worse wordplay!" Markos flipped his sword back and forth in his hands.
"If you were planning on a pirate theme, the least you could have done was wear a fake beard." Marka struck a pose. "But Bastion shall survive this night, and never fall to the dark!"
His siblings engaged him together. He was fortunate that he had as much space in the middle of the room as he did, and he could keep them at bay with his longer weapon. But they weren't pack leaders for nothing, and he felt blind and deaf, fighting without his extra limbs.
After a few frenetic exchanges, Sergiy managed to strike Markos a heavy blow upside the head, dulled by the training magic, and was gratified to see a red flare. Unfortunately, he'd overcommitted, and stumbled when he tried to catch his balance with a tail that wasn't there. His own vision flared red as Marka scored a slash across his chest. Looking at the wall, he saw his candle blow out.
"Finally! Awoo! High-five, brother, we pulled one out over him."
"Did you?" Sergiy asked with sly import, helping Markos to his feet.
Marka, instantly wary, first double-checked that he was actually defeated—Roland's enchantment glowed red for death, and yellow for lesser wounds—then spun back around.
"Hi!" Bruin said.
Sitting on one of the High Table's benches, Sergiy's mate was kicking his feet cheerfully. In his hand he had a wooden practice dagger with a glowing edge, and behind him, Lady Usenko was drinking from a flagon. She raised it up in a toast, the red criss-cross across her chest unmistakable.
"To Bumble Beard the Benevolent!" she declared. "Sorry, my little candies. You took your eyes off the goal at the last second, and this little assassin slipped in."
"You say that as if you couldn't crush me like a mosquito if this had been real," Bruin teased.
Sergiy watched as his mother, the Lady of the castle and former warlord, proceeded to put her hand on top of his mate's head, making squishing sound effects as she pressed down on him. For his own part, Bruin made squealing noises as he slid off of the bench and contorted his limbs.
"Hang on!" Marka declared, striding towards the High Table. Sergiy and Markos followed, while the rest of the guardians began setting tables and chairs upright from where they'd been used as barricades. As dinner was brought out, the remainder of the guardians began trickling in, some nursing minor injuries as they took seats with good cheer.
"How'd you get past us?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Bruin leapt to his feet, then did some kind of esoteric motions with his hands. "Witchcraft."
"That explains nothing. Was it illusion magic? Did you turn yourself invisible?"
"Not saying."
Marka, though, shifted into her werewolf form and began sniffing him. "Was it earth magic, to dig your way through the wall? No. Teleportation? No, not that either."
Bruin laughed, and tried to push her away. "No fair, using a lie detector. Sergiy, save me!"
"You can tell her, it's fine," he said. "We won't surprise her like this again anyways."
Bruin took in a deep breath, waited until Marka began making impatient choking gestures at him, then pointed behind her, grinning broadly enough that his lips pulled back from his tusks.
"I walked in through the kitchens when your back was turned."
"But that wasn't… you're not supposed to…"
"A valid strategy," Markos said, patting his sister on the back. "Perhaps, Marka, we should have barricaded those doors after all. And keep in mind that deadly assassins might use any point of entry. Well played, Ser. Guardians, a toast! To Ser's mate, and his clever strategy of coming in the backdoor!"
There were yips and howls from a few shifters, and Sergiy got to see Bruin blush a lovely dark shade as he loudly complained about that normally being the other way around.
Since his mother was in attendance, Serigy took a seat at the High Table, instead of with his pack as he normally would. Chairs and benches were found, and dinner was delivered by the kitchen staff.
Russ showed up partway through dinner, carrying his own plate and drinking mug as he joined them. Sergiy reached out behind him, briefly touching Russ's hip as he passed by, earning him a smile. Turning his head back to his food, Sergiy worked on quelling the appetite he'd worked up from their war games.
When dinner was done, he headed upstairs to his room, Russ and Bruin following.
"After showers, did either of you have anything in mind?" Bruin asked. "Tomorrow's a picnic, you'd said."
Sergiy stopped outside of his door, thinking. "Movie night in the guardian's lounge was nice, but it got a bit crowded."
"Yeah, it's kind of hard to give you proper cuddles when there's so many people coming and going." Bruin ran a hand up his shirt, rubbing against his sensitive belly, soon followed by a second hand.
Sergiy checked that there weren't any others walking down the hall, then lifted his shirt up, giving his mate more access. Apparently petting was Bruin's thing, a fact that he'd become well-acquainted with over the last two weeks, since the confession in Town.
"They wouldn't have minded," Russ said, leaning against the wall beside Sergiy.
"Well, you two shifters might be okay with it, but I'm not quite ready to give public blowjobs just yet. Ask me in a month, though. Oh, you flinched! Are you okay?"
Sergiy growled. "Magically dulled or not, the weapons still pack a punch. But I think these are from the morning's practice."
Russ nudged Bruin aside, then proceeded to take Sergiy's shirt off entirely. He tried not to wince from the shoulder movement, but a rumble from Russ let him know that he wasn't fooling him.
With a gentleness that belied his large hands and thick fingers, Russ prodded at his chest, and Bruin started checking out the rest of his torso.
"Mm.Bruised."
"I won't even feel it by tomorrow, I'll bet. It's fine."
Bruin traced a finger over a yellowish welt. "What if you didn't have to wait? I mean, if we're going to be hanging out, wouldn't it be nicer to not be in pain?"
"It's not painful," he said, crossing his arms to prevent any more touching.
"Is he fibbing?" Bruin asked, looking up at Russ, but the big man shook his head slowly.
"Lord Sergiy's tough," he said. "He feels merely annoyed."
"Well, annoying discomfort is still annoying, and I want us to have a nice time together. What if I did a healing charm?"
"You don't need to waste magic like that on me, I'll be fine."
Sergiy turned to enter his room, but Bruin quickly stumbled around him, banging his shoulder into the door in his haste to put himself in the way.
"It's hardly a waste. I've got plenty of crystals charged up, or ready herbs if I went for a tonic route. Besides, what if something happens, like an incursion? Shouldn't Bastion's warlord be at full strength?"
"The last incursion was a mere three weeks ago. We're unlikely to see one for at least another week, maybe even two, with summer nearly here."
He and Bruin stared at each other, neither of them wanting to give in. For some reason, Sergiy felt a measure of pride. Isn't this what he would want in a mate? Someone to stand up to him, challenge him, keep him sharp?
Is that why he'd been disappointed with Russ, when his boyfriend had just walked away? Why he'd felt angry, and frustrated, and—
No .
Sergiy shut down that train of thought in a hurry. It hadn't been Russ who had run. Russ had challenged him by confessing his love, and daring him to do the same. And instead of rising to the challenge, Sergiy had undercut his boyfriend while he'd been vulnerable.
Before he could get himself mired in shameful self-reflection, he felt Russ's hand on his shoulder, and then Bruin perked up.
"Oh! Sergiy. Hey, guess what? You're going to let me heal you…"His eyes shone with the terrible glow of imminent victory. "Because I need the practice. Ha! You practice almost every day of the week, keeping your fighting skills sharp, right? Well, I need to make sure my charm skills are top notch, especially if I'm going to be a dedicated healer for Bastion. You wouldn't deny me a chance to practice, would you?"
"Our little witch has you," Russ rumbled, squeezing his shoulder. "No escape."
"I'm sure there are others who might be feeling sore after today's training. Auguste or Yacob, for example."
"Are you saying I should go to my room, shower, grab my tools, and find Yacob in his room? Offer to put my hands all over him to help him heal? Sure, I'll just go bang Yacob right now. Sorry, bang on his door, I meant."
Sergiy reached out, grabbing his giggling mate by the collar before he could take off. He growled. "You will do no such thing."
"Then you'll let me practice?" Bruin asked, making his lower lip stick out in a pout.
"I'd suppose I'd better, unless I want you roaming the Guardian's Quarter, plying your trade and your ass."
"Good." Bruin leaned down, planting a quick peck on his cheek. "Let's say, meet here in your room in half an hour? Russell, will that work for you, too?"
"I am staying, so yes."
Sergiy reached up to his shoulder, giving Russ's hand a squeeze.Russ responded by wrapping both arms around him, holding him tight.
Bruin seemed oddly pleased at the idea. "Oh, that's perfect. As badly injured as he is, Sergiy probably needs someone to make sure he doesn't slip in the shower and hit his head or anything. Okay, be back soon."
Sergiy watched his mate walk off, his pockets and pouches clinking as he went on his way. Once he'd turned a corner, Sergiy was released, and he entered his quarters.
It was tidy and orderly, just as he'd left it. Nothing out of place, and plenty of seating in his living room with its modest entertainment system. There were also fresh flowers in vases, adding a touch of color to the admittedly black, silver, and gold color scheme. So why was he afraid to show it off?
Turning around, he saw that Russ was still out in the hall, and had his hands folded in front of him, his thumbs moving in a worrisome habit.
"Russ, you're always welcome to hang out." No, wait, he needed to phrase it more directly for him. "I mean, I would like it if you came in and joined me."
Russ stepped past the threshold, then stopped to take off his house shoes.
Sergiy gestured to the room. "Not much has changed, I suppose. I have a new coffee table."
Turning around, he tried to see if he'd made any big changes in the last five years, but it all felt banal to point out.
Russ went over to the sofa, taking a seat in the middle of it as he pressed his legs and hands together, seemingly trying to make himself appear small.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked, then joked, "I probably still have a bottled drink or two from when you lived here before.
"No, thank you. Go shower. I will wait."
"Alright. Make yourself at—make yourself comfortable. I'll just be a few minutes."
He walked backwards out of his sitting room, not wanting to take his eyes off of Russ in case he vanished. Probably sensing his feelings, his big guy raised a hand to wave at him, and then sprawled out lengthwise across the couch, as if cementing himself to the room.
Surprisingly, it helped.
Once he was in his bathroom, he took off his clothes, putting his whites in one hamper by the door and his darker pants in another, then hopped in the shower.
He did a quick scrub, heedless of his bruises and the discomfort in order to go faster—this minor bit of pain was nothing. As he dried himself off in front of his floor-length mirror, he realized that he had more injuries than he'd initially thought. The bruises were all a bit tender when he pressed on them, but thankfully only the two largest on his chest were actually unpleasant. They'd heal naturally in a day or so, but it would be nice to see what Bruin could do.
He did a check of his face in the mirror, but he'd shaved a few days ago and still couldn't feel any stubble, a natural consequence of being a drake shifter.
Back in his bedroom, he began going through one of his oaken dressers, looking for something to wear.
Basic briefs? No. Should he get one of his rune-stitched pairs, in case there were shifting shenanigans? No. What if he just shifted into his weredrake form now? He had a few pairs that allowed for his tail.
He was folding and putting back probably his tenth pair when he heard the sound of Russ getting up off of the couch and approaching. The pattern of his footsteps was so achingly familiar that Sergiy froze.
Russ poked his head inside, saw him at the dresser, and then marched over, heedless of Sergiy's nudity.
"I'm just deciding on what to wear," Sergiy said.
Russ nodded, then reached past him and stuck a hand in the dresser, instantly pulling out a white silk thong buried in the corner. He held it up in front of Sergiy's face.
"Those things always ride up."
"You will not be wearing it long, if the little witch has his say."
Russ said it so matter of fact that Sergiy couldn't help but laugh.
"Okay, Russ. Your point is taken."
He reached up to take them, but Russ pulled them back.
"Let me help you, my lord," he murmured, his hand trembling a little.
Kneeling down in front of him, Russ lowered the garment to the ground by his feet. Sergiy lifted up first one foot, and then the other, allowing Russ to dress him. The big man's hands were warm as they slid up his thighs, setting the waistband around his hips.
Sergiy set his hand on top of Russ's head, smoothing down his hair. Russ looked up at him, giving him the glimmer of a boyish smile that took him back to when they'd just turned eighteen, in this exact same position, though back then Russ had been taking his underwear off . He thumbed the edge of Russ's cheek, again appreciative for this new hairstyle that left his face open.
Russ moved his hands to his front. The thong had a kind of pouch for where his dick should go, and he wasn't seated quite right. Reaching in, Russ's hands were breathtaking as he angled him into place, setting the thong properly around his shaft and balls with far more attention to detail than was strictly necessary.
Russ's next move was to reach behind him, adjusting his ass cheeks so that everything was placed right. In doing so, he leaned his head forward, resting his cheek against Sergiy's growing semi.
"How's that, my lord?"
"I've missed you," he said fiercely, by way of answer.
"I was only ever a word away." Closing his eyes, Russ rested his head against Sergiy's front, setting his hands against Sergiy's ass. After a moment, he lifted his head, kissed the tip of his now full erection, then stood up.
Sergiy growled, reaching out to put Russ's hands back in place, but the man simply shook his head.
"I would like to, but I don't want to leave you spent right before our witch returns."
"You make it sound like the sex is guaranteed," he grumbled, but found himself a pair of pants to don that wouldn't be too tight in the front while he was, ahem, temporarily encumbered.
"Ser," Russ said patiently. "It doesn't take thirty minutes to shower."
Sergiy paused, thinking about it. "Ah."
He debated going to his closet to get a shirt as well, but decided against it. He'd only have it on until Bruin returned, and as nice as it would be to have his mate remove it off of him, it wasn't worth dealing with the discomfort of raising sore arms above his head twice over.
Besides, Russ had already grabbed his hand and was leading him back to the couch.
Russ stopped in front of it, then looked at him. He found himself intuiting his thoughts easily enough.
Ser sat down at one end, then nodded, patting his lap.
"If you want to lay down with your head in my lap, I would like that," he said.
Russ was quick to do so, then smiled up at him.
"Hard seat."
"I could get a cushion."
"No." Russ rolled his head back and forth over his bulge teasingly before relaxing.
Letting out a deep breath, Ser rested his hand on Russ's broad chest. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the couch, feeling certain knots start to loosen.
Russ wasn't the talkative sort, and right now, it was the right thing to not say. After a minute, he felt Russ lay a hand on his own. He scratched the hairy chest, then relaxed his hand. They stayed like that for some time, and he could almost believe that it hadn't been years since they'd last been like this.
No, that wasn't the right way to think. Time had passed, and ignoring that wouldn't fix things. Better to be grateful for a second chance with an amazing guy, and to count himself lucky that someone else hadn't snatched him up.
Russ patted his hand.
"Shh."
"Sorry," Sergiy said, meaning it in more ways than one. "I'll be quiet."
A while later, Sergiy heard the patter of bare feet jogging down the hall that could only be one person, and Sergiy opened his eyes, turning to his door.
"Enter," he called out before Bruin had time to knock.
"Hey. Wow, I love your room, and oh, hang on you two, I definitely want in on this." Smelling of some kind of mossy wood scent and with his hair damp from his recent shower, a shirtless Bruin immediately wandered over and knelt beside his feet. "Where should I sit?"
Sergiy leaned forward, laying a hand on Bruin's head. "Right where you're at seems fine to me."
Grinning up at him and brandishing his tusks, Bruin repositioned so that he was draped over his leg. "My lord likes to be adored by his men, does he?"
"Your lord likes to be adored by one specific man, he does."
"Two men," Russ corrected, holding up two fingers. "I like adoring you, too."
"Lord Sergiy, adored by many. If my math is right, that makes him very, very, adorable."
Russ sat up off of his lap, flipping over so that he was on his hands and knees on the couch. "Yes. Lord Sergiy the Adorable. It will be his new title."
Sergiy did his best to avoid breaking into a smile at the sight of the twin earnest expressions. "I am a fierce warlord, and at worst should be considered handsome. Your proposed title will never stick."
Russ shook his head. "I will tell Markos, and Marka, and Leona, and Auguste. It will spread. You will see."
Sergiy at last laughed, turning it into a groan. "Please don't. I'm still called the Lord of Sinking Stones when I go swimming, and it took over a year when you let slip Prince of Puddings at the… the…"
Sergiy winced, his breath catching.
Ah, stupid bruises.
"Why don't I get started on the healing charm?" Bruin said softly, standing up. Out of his pocket, he pulled out a pair of polished crystals, a green one and an orange one.
"Yes," Russ said, getting up off of the couch. "Ser, lay down."
He did as he was told, but kept his head lifted as he watched his shirtless mate ponder him. Bending at the waist, Bruin ran a hand up and down his torso, tracing the lines of his abs.
"Alright. Let me just get in a good position, first."
Carefully, Bruin stepped up on the broad couch, then got down to his knees, straddling his hips.
Reaching forward, Sergiy put his hands on Bruin's waist. "This is the ideal healing position, is it?"
"Yes," he said, nodding solemnly. "Physical touch and closeness is an important part of healing."
Russ moved closer, laying a hand on Bruin's shoulder. "Mm. Does that mean you heal better naked?"
"Good question! For some kinds of healing, yes, like spiritual or whole-body illnesses, but sadly not in this case." Bruin rocked forward and back on his waist, and Sergiy growled. "The smidgeon of extra oomph I'd get by having more skin-to-skin contact would be lost many times over from being distracted, and I actually need him to have his blood circulating in his body, not pooling in one region."
"Then you'd best get on with it, witch."
Looking down at him, Bruin licked his lips.
"Lord Sergiy, may I heal your bruises?"
"Yes, Green witch, you may."
Nodding along, Bruin let the crystals dangle from his left hand by the cords that he had wrapped around them, placing the other hand on his chest.
Gentle light,
Set things right.
The green crystal began shimmering, and Sergiy immediately felt a tingling across his torso.
He and Russ watched Bruin work. The Green witch had his eyes shut, and was slowly running one palm across his torso, pausing a few times as his charm did its job. After a few passes, Sergiy lifted his head again, seeing that some of the bruises were already returned to normal flesh. He poked at a couple, and didn't feel any pain at all.
"This is amazing," he said, then added teasingly. "Maybe I should toughen up the pack training, if we have this to help recover afterwards."
"If it's not too many guardians at once, sure," Bruin said distractedly. Still with his eyes shut, he leaned back, running his hand down Sergiy's leg. "And also as long as you don't mind me riding them like this. Hmm, your lower body is a little bruised, too."
"Pants off?" Russ suggested.
"He absolutely should, but not for healing purposes." Taking in a deep breath, Bruin sat up, then handed his crystals over to Russ who put them on the coffee table. "All fixed. How is it?"
Sergiy touched his own chest, prodding at where just a few minutes ago he had two welts. Nothing.
"It's better. Thank you."
Bruin flashed him a smile, then made to get off of him, but Sergiy kept his hands wrapped around his waist, keeping him in place
"Stay," he ordered, and Bruin nodded, swallowing.
The fire inside of his chest, having climbed while he'd been tended to, was now a steady roar.
"Bruin," he said, watching as Russ laid a hand on the witch's head, using his thick fingers to massage his scalp. He saw Bruin's breathing speed up. "You are my mate, my promised. May I kiss you?"
No banter or games this time. His witch immediately lowered his head, letting him close the rest of the distance. It felt good, to give in a little.
Laying back down on the couch, he brought Bruin with him, his hands on the side of his head. He experimented, running his mouth along Bruin's tusks, finding out intimately the differences of properly kissing an orc. Bruin had a broader jaw and wider mouth than a human, and seemed to prefer open-mouth kissing as a result. His lips were also fuller, delightful to press against. Sergiy gently bit the lower one, tugging on it.
Bruin ground his hips against him, already hard, then arched his back and neck, letting Sergiy plant kisses along it. Beyond his mate, he saw Russ with a hand down the back of Bruin's pants.
"Bruin," Sergiy growled. "May I fuck you?"
"I'm hoping at least one of you will," he said, giving him a red-faced grin as he sat up.
Russ proceeded to pick Bruin up off of him, helping set him on his feet. As Sergiy stood up himself, he saw Bruin reaching a hand behind himself, gripping the front of Russ's kilt.
Sergiy was already breathing heavily, and his mate senses were starting to engulf his reason, but he still paused, regarding the two men in front of him.
Russ lifted his head up from where he was gently kissing one of Bruin's ears.
"Ser?"
"I…"
There was still a knot in his chest that his flaming desires had yet to penetrate, even after two weeks. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff and wanting to leap off, but knowing his wings were tied.
Russ circled around Bruin, coming up to kneel in front of him. Reaching out, he grabbed Sergiy's hand and put it against his cheek.
"It's okay," he said, with his simple and straightforward assurance. " We're okay."
Sergiy lifted Russ up to halfway standing, his boyfriend in a courtly bow rather than a position of submission. He kissed him. And then, he made the choice that he would believe him.Wings unbound.
Russ rumbled happily, probably smelling the difference in attitude.
"Good," Sergiy growled, pushing Russ towards his bedroom and wrapping an arm around Bruin. "Now move to the bed and strip, because you're both wearing too many clothes.That's an order from your lord."
He heard Bruin laugh, and the witch broke out of his grasp in a rush to get to the bed, his hands already unfastening his shorts.
The next several minutes were spent in a flurry of tangled hands and discarded cloth. In his rush to help divest Russ of his kilt, Bruin ended up tripping on his shorts that had caught around his ankles. Russ managed to rescue him, catching him by the shoulders as he spun them onto the edge of the bed, but this ended up with Bruin kneeling between the werewolf's legs. Entirely distracted by the covered rod and running his hands up beneath the kilt, it fell to Sergiy to take his mate's clothes off the rest of the way, and then Russ's kilt from him.
While Bruin planted his face in the now naked Russ's crotch, apparently content to breathe in his musk while he nosed his balls, Sergiy neatly folded their clothes, setting them on top of his dresser. As soon as he tried to take his own clothes off, though, he was immediately stopped, Bruin jerking to his feet, Russ beside him.
"No no, allow us, my lord," Bruin said.
His words were teasing, but the orc's gaze was lustful, and he and Russ knelt on either side of him. Sharing a look, they slowly undid the laces on his trousers, their hands pressing firmly against his muscles, caressing him as they slid first his pants off, and then his thong.
Sergiy's cock popped free, bouncing up with a drizzle of precum. While Russ set his thong and pants neatly on top of their own clothes, he heard Bruin making a pleased sound as he laid a head against his thigh, wetting his lips as he stared at his crotch. Lifting his head, his mate made an inquisitive sound, reaching a hand up to hover around his shaft.
Sergiy's insides were aflame, and he ran a hand through the witch's hair before gripping it. "Suck my cock, Bruin. Get a taste of what's about to be inside you."
He let out a low hiss and his mate proceeded to do just that, opening his jaw wide to take his head in, rolling his tongue around it.
Not to be left out, Russ knelt down beside him, his large hands warm as they stroked his rear. He and Bruin took turns taking him in, or playing with his drawn-up, tight testicles, even kissing each other while they kissed his tip, though that last was more visually enjoyable than physically satisfying.
It was Russ who stopped their oral fun, standing up and pulling Bruin to his feet. He leaned down to receive a tender kiss from Sergiy, then picked Bruin up, tossing him playfully up in the air before setting him on all fours on the bed.
"Bruin wants you now," Russ said to him, taking an offered towel and bottle of lube that Sergiy retrieved from a drawer. "I'll get him ready for you."
"Wait, I wanted to suck your cock too, woo, oh wow…"
After Russ laid a towel down between Bruin's legs, he pressed an oiled up finger against his hole. Sergiy heard Bruin make a sound, and slowly that thick finger disappeared inside him.
"Mm," Russ said. "Soon, if you'd like."
"I would very much love to give you a blowjob, Russell." Bruin sank down to his elbows, lifting his ass up as Russ prepped him. "Gods and spirits, I'm so fucking excited! Two fingers, please? My mate isn't small, as I'm sure you well know."
Once Russ indicated to him that he was done, Sergiy climbed up onto his bed. He paused with his cock resting on Bruin's crack, breathing in deeply through his nose. Beyond the lube and sandalwood and his own shampoo, he smelled the earthen scent of a male orc, and the heady smell of two willing men.
What sent blood rushing to his cock, though, almost uncomfortably hard, was the familiar scent of Russ. He could pick out his wolfen scent, the hint of sunshine, even his uniquely familiar breath…
Looking up the bed, he saw Russ kneeling in front of Bruin. The man gave him his easy smile, like someone had held a camera up and said to say 'cheese.' At the same time, Bruin turned around, his jaw protruding and hanging open. The orc was essentially panting, deep heavy breaths of arousal. He didn't say anything, but he wiggled his ass.
Growling in delight, Sergiy gripped a rounded cheek with one hand, then angled his cock into place with the other. He thrust into his mate.
Slow thrusts to begin with, getting the witch used to his size, enjoying the grunts he made, low-pitched and deep, but quickly speeding up as his own desire took him.
"Ser," Bruin said after a minute, letting Russ's cock fall out of his mouth as he bowed his head. "Ser, you're holding back again."
"I don't… hah. I don't want to hurt you, though. You're my mate, and it's harder than it ever was to not shift."
Sergiy slowed his thrusts down, holding himself in place to let his mind recover, to let the inner flame settle, but Bruin was having none of it and began rocking back against him.
"Ser," he said. "It's fine. I remember when you dragon shifted in my room. I saw the size of your bulge, so I planned ahead and did a charm. I can take your larger size."
"What?"
Bruin twisted around. "I'm saying I want you to fuck me."
As Bruin lowered his head down, arching his back and lifting his ass up, Sergiy started to feel his draconic nature pushing forth. He held it back for several seconds, but fuck, it would feel good to let go. Trusting in Bruin, he pulled out and relaxed, letting the shift happen.
Scales. Tail. More than an added foot in height, with muscles to match. Sergiy managed to keep just enough human in his form to prevent the claws, running a scaled hand on his mate's backside. He applied more lube to his pink shaft, getting the new ridges, then pressed the head forward. Surprisingly, he went in, though Bruin hissed through his teeth. He saw Russ stroking the back of Bruin's head as he buried it in the blankets, moaning.
"Fuuuck," he said. Charm or not, Bruin was tight. He kept waiting for him to speak up, to say stop, but instead Bruin made heavier grunts, encouraging Sergiy further until he managed to sink into the base.
"Now fuck me, my lord," Bruin gasped, grabbing the base of Russ's shaft and returning to work.
Sergiy didn't need any further encouragement. With both golden hands grabbing either side of the green ass before him, he let his mating desire free, a roaring flame in his chest that he occasionally voiced in oaths and swears.
It was a point of pride to see Bruin unable to focus on anything else as he pounded him, and Russ slid to the side after receiving a last sloppy kiss, letting Bruin suck on one of his thumbs while he jerked himself.
Snarling, Sergiy wrapped his arms around Bruin's chest, stepping back off of the bed and holding him aloft. He thrust his hips up repeatedly, his tail slapping against the wall.
"Getting.Close."
" Bite me ," Bruin demanded breathily, lifting an arm over his shoulder, blindly patting the side of his snout.
Sergiy lowered his maw down, several of his sharper fangs just piercing the flesh. He smelled sweat and maleness, and tasted heat and blood, and it was enough to push him over the edge.
He roared as he came, a declaration muffled by Bruin's shoulder. He ground his cock into Bruin, pushing all of himself into his ass, feeling the warmth of his own cum saturating his cock. He smelled the seed of his mate as it shot across the room, hands-free. He held him where he was, arms wrapped around the Green witch, growling lowly with each exhalation as the afterglow settled.
He lifted his head up to the bed, and Russ strode over, heavy cock swaying side to side. Grabbing Bruin by the armpits, he lifted him up off of Sergiy's rod, laying him on the towel.
Sergiy and Russel laid down on either side of their witch, each of them taking one of his hands while he caught his breath. Sergiy looked at the bite marks, reddish indentations with a few drops of blood, and bent his head down to begin planting gentle kisses on each mark.
"Mmm," Bruin said lazily, wiggling a hand free to reach between his legs. He used a thumb to collect some of his dripping cum, then licked it off. "Russell needs a turn too, though, right?"
"Yes." Russ propped himself up on an elbow, leaning over Bruin and setting his hand on his head. "My turn now, little witch?"
Bruin pulled Russ's hand down to plant a kiss on it. "Yes. I'm willing to do whatever you want. Do you want a blowjob? A mount? If you'll give me a minute, I'm sure I'll be hard again and could top you, instead."
Russ started sniffing around Bruin's neck, then without preamble scooped Bruin up entirely within his arms and slid to the edge of the bed, putting Bruin on his lap.
"I want to put my dick inside you," he said, hugging him. "Is that okay?"
"I would love it if my big, cuddly boyfriend put his cock inside of me." Bruin repositioned himself so that he was sitting astride Russ. "I'm already getting hard again at the thought."
Teasing the top of his own cockhead, Sergiy watched as Bruin began kissing Russ, occasionally thrusting himself against the man's belly, or leaning back to tease the large man's large rod. After a moment, Bruin paused to take a breath.
"Should I clean up, first? I kind of still have our lord's load still in me."
Russ shook his head, sliding his hands down to Bruin's hips. "I know. You smell like him. I like it."
"Maybe just a bit more lube, then. Sergiy?"
Frowning, Sergiy grabbed the bottle of lube and brought it over. The white-hot flame of his mate senses had quieted when they'd come together, but was starting to make angry noises, and his arm tensed as he reached out to apply lube.
"Ser?" Russ turned his head, concern on his face.
"I…"
He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing.
"Give me a second. My mate instincts don't like sharing."
"Your instincts sound outdated," Bruin joked.
Sergiy growled, opening his eyes. "I know. Give me a second. I just have to convince them that Russ isn't about to either steal you away, or get you pregnant."
"No babies," Russ said, shaking a finger at him. He looked at Bruin and repeated the gesture. "Bruin? No babies."
"No," Bruin agreed, nearly choking with laughter, then grabbed Russ's head in his hands. "But I want you to try your best anyways."
As the two of them began sharing ardent kisses, Sergiy mentally grabbed his instincts and told them to shut up. It was fine if Russ and Bruin fucked. Absolutely fine. And his cock was hardening again at the thought of watching them, especially knowing that Bruin still had his cum inside of him.
"Ser," Russ said, interrupting his thoughts. "Bruin is your mate."
"Yes."
"Can I also be your mate?"
Sergiy looked at him, sitting on his bed, smiling and happy and hopeful.
Slowly, he nodded.
"Yes, Russ. You're also my mate."
That admission did it, and he exhaled in relief. If both of them were his, then it was fine for them to be together.
After applying lube to Russ's thick member and stealing a few kisses from each of them for himself, he watched as Bruin sank himself down onto Russ. His big strong werewolf made delighted yipping sounds as he thrust himself earnestly into Bruin.
Bruin didn't last long, cumming for a second time as he rode Russ like a stallion, a smaller load landing amidst all the red hair of Russ's chest.
Bruin tried to continue his servicing, but Russ shook his head nudging him gently aside. Laying spread out on the bed, his former and now current lover looked over at him. Instead of speaking, he reached his arms out.
"Okay," Sergiy said, rolling over on top of him.
Werebeast form, for Russ. He was a big guy, but liked to feel small, sometimes.
Tender, though. Gentle and soft lovemaking, digging his fingers into Russ's back, or caressing the side of his cheek as he looked him in the face. Sergiy's tail swung wide and with abandon, slapping the ground unchecked, a physical representation of his emotions while he made careful thrusts into the man that he was remembering how to love.
Russ came long before he did, his massive cock throbbing against Sergiy's belly, and he made very wolflike sounds despite his human form. He buried his head against Sergiy's neck, kissing him ceaselessly until, soon, Sergiy was himself shuddering.
As he lay there on the bed, still inside of Russ while Bruin stroked the werewolf's hair, catching his breath, he thanked Mother Moon for sending him a promised mate, and for seeing into his heart well enough to give him two.