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before you fall apart

Summary:

Michael thinks he has a beta. His husband Calum thinks so too (even though he didn't tell him).

Notes:

Hello! This is my second time posting on AO3. I worked so hard on this piece because its my first ever ABO dynamic, and it's a mix of slash and self insert. I am addicted to Malum after writing this. I say give it a try if you'd like, as I would love to know what you think. You can find me at 5sosnsfw.tumblr.com. Come say hi!

Enjoy! šŸ’˜

Work Text:

Michael resented the moon.

He was angry at the way it looked over the horizon, distant and beautiful with no intention but to anchor the earth. To keep up a pull—to keep the planet in check while it held life. Unlike him, who abandoned his planet for three nights in a row. Michael tried to ignore a shift in his mood for as long as it took Calum to fall asleep. He could smell something. Maybe an object or a person. He had for days on end, sometimes for hours. It made his heart jump—his pulse elevating for a reason that didn’t connect to anything that made sense.

He chalked it up to a verbena-scented sweat. Sweet enough that he could taste it. Michael had a vision of sheen on skin. A few images came with heavy breaths, a distant arousal accompanied by the sway of his own desires. It wasn’t possible. He never thought that he would feel anything comparable to the heat that crept up his neck when he met Calum for the first time. The pangs of longing—the need to find him as soon as he could. This was new. It was similar but not the same, confusing in the way he was entranced with the mental image of a shoulder and a lower back.

He didn’t like that he wanted to be alone at 3 am. Michael harbored an umbrella of thoughts that deepened through the closed glass doors—a disturbance that woke Michael up in the middle of the night. The sensation swept him up when he was alone. He tensed at the uncontrollable swell of desire at the pit of his stomach. Another flash of a back had him biting his lip, aching for something.

It was someone else.

For the first time, Michael realized his rut was triggered by the impulses of another person. The smell wasn’t like his Omega, the person he wanted to be with for every reason on top of the fact that they were bonded. Calum smelled like a beautiful musk when Michael caught his scent when he sat next to him. Michael smelled something light, glittering on the tip of his tongue and radiating to the back of his throat. You were close by—leaving Michael aimlessly searching for more as he fondled his crotch. He couldn’t help but be shaken by the desire he had. Someone he had yet to see—but could feel. Michael exhaled when he tried to push himself out of the idea of bonding with anyone but Calum.

They joked about other mates all the time.

Calum would talk about leaving Michael when the house got a little too messy. Threatening that he would pack while he was sleeping and leave piles of dirty dishes on his side of the bed. Michael liked antagonizing him because he could push his buttons enough to clean up after him (in some instances). Having a Beta was so rare for an Alpha that Calum joked that Michael would hit the lottery before having someone else live in their house, especially if he kept up the way he burned their dinner every time he tried to make something nice with a bottle of wine. Michael and Calum were made for each other. Michael couldn’t imagine his life without Calum outlining the day—being there no matter how much he fucked up. 10 years with Calum and he was smelling someone else.

It felt like betrayal.

Trying to get in bed without waking him was in vain. Calum was awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the comforter settled around his waist. He looked cute with messy hair. Michael thought that he would have to tell him as soon as he got the nerve, as he couldn’t lie. Not to Calum—who looked irresistible to Michael with waves of light from the pool refracting off the wall.

ā€œWhat’s wrong babe?ā€

Michael answered by sitting on the left side of the mattress.

ā€œJust missing you, that’s all.ā€

Michael was telling the truth. He did miss the days when it was just the two of them—separated by nothing but obstacles in their way. They had gotten through everything. Michael could feel a strain on his heart when Calum kissed him with a gentle pressure. He tasted like denial—his mouth open to Michael’s tongue as he pulled his shorts down. Having sex made it easier to forget about anything (or anyone) else. Soon their hips were locked and Calum’s hand was on Michael’s shaft. He moaned at the contact of his lover, the person that knew he could cum from a squeeze of his balls and a delicate finger in his ass.

Calum felt like home.

Michael got swept up in the phase of being mated with Calum. Tied to him from the moment they were two teens with raging hormones and marks to prove that they would never be apart.

He had built a life with Calum—who jerked himself off while he tried his best to prep for quick sex. Michael gasped when he squeezed his eyes shut. His cock crested Calum’s hole as he faced him, blinking between moans. His mind went there when he pushed. It was the skin—the same body that made him want to rip himself in half after he turned inside out. Michael was drunk with the idea of that scent. He needed to be close to you, to touch them and tease them whenever he wanted to. His hips pushed upward when Calum whimpered.

Reality cut when Michael got close.

His stamina varied based on how much he masturbated that day. It was a different case now, with Michael fighting an orgasm inspired by his beta. You were on his mind when he knew nothing but your scent—singing hymns of his own desire as Calum rode him. Michael tried to keep his pleasure at bay until he thought about how hard it would be to acknowledge outside of his body, outside of the fence of his mind, where he would have to look Calum in the eyes and admit something was going on. Calum’s moans were enough to bring Michael to the present.

He watched his chest rise and fall. The kind of movements he did during sex reminded him why he liked to keep watch of every expression he had. Calum was stronger than Michael but he liked to be compliant to his whims—because he was under Michael’s influence. Orgasms were in close proximity when Calum noticed something in Michael’s face. He looked like he had something bad to say. It was the same face he had when he broke something their in-laws got them by an accident because he wanted to to a stupid dance he saw on social media. Only it was worse, with Michael coming before he could stop himself. He felt guilt on the edge of pleasure—tears in his eyes as Calum fell to the side, cum all over his torso.

Michael didn’t want to explain.

He wished he never had to, yet it felt like he already left Calum out of something important. He felt like the bad guy. Michael was in the middle of flirting with change, trying to get a grip on what his life would look like if he told Calum what was going on. They wouldn’t be able to have sweet conversations about growing old with no pressure—no more hogging the remote without the context of changing his relationship with Calum. It was biological and tied up in strings, feeling strange. Michael sighed as he pushed his head into his pillow. He looked at the ceiling after Calum cleaned himself up. They were talking in the silence—finding their favorite spots on the mattress in unison. Michael didn’t have to look at him for the tension to break, his voice wavering when he spoke.

ā€œI think I have a beta.ā€

Calum pressed his forehead to Michael’s shoulder.

ā€œI know.ā€

*
A week passed.

Michael had to make his own breakfast and text Calum to make sure he did too. His cereal didn’t taste as good without the thin slices of banana Calum usually put on top. Michael was too lazy to dirty a knife for fruit, so he broke it up into big chunks that almost made him gag when he sat at the table. He overlooked raindrops that danced on the surface of the pool as he broke up the discs in his bowl. His anxiety didn’t subside after he stopped trying to ignore the fact that he had upset the ecosystem in his home.

They stopped crying in front of each other when Michael moved into the guest room.

He observed all of the changes Calum made (without telling him), the new curtains and the memory foam mattress pad his mom requested for stays longer than a week. Michael often laid on his back and tried to will the urge to fuck whoever had been living in his head away. It worked sometimes, long enough for him to knock on Calum’s door and ask how his day went. They maintained a level of civil behavior while trying to have ā€˜space’ in the house. Calum went shopping that day. He got all of Michael’s favorites in the wrong flavor. It was the most polite way of saying ā€˜fuck you’ and ā€˜I love you’—Michael grimacing at orange flavored yogurt an hour after breakfast.

Calum had every right to be upset.

It was the day they negotiated that Michael would find his beta—walking all over town until the smell was met with a person. With the way things were, Michael wanted to kill time by trying to get Calum to say more than ten words to him at a time. They had kissed the night before in passing. It was out of habit, as they never wanted to go to bed angry. Now it was a no man’s land, as Calum said he needed ā€˜time to adjust’. Michael was pulled from his thoughts when Calum opened the door. He had two black shirts in his hand and a look of contempt marring his face.

ā€œYou’re not wearing that to go meet your beta. They’re never gonna look at you again if you don’t match, babe.ā€

Michael’s face twisted when he looked at the poorly picked outfit he was wearing currently, smirking at Calum.

ā€œI don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have no idea what I’m doing. I almost never do.ā€

*

Michael was tired after a full day of wearing an uncomfortable shirt.

He let his dogs pull the course as he went around the corner of his culdesac, trying to keep himself present. It was frustrating to smell his beta and lose the aroma to street food or someone in his way. Being that close to something he wanted so badly—finding his footing at the root of feeling like this would never end. Calum said he’d leave a light on in case someone came home with him. He seemed more like himself as he helped Michael get ready for the evening. It was like their love in old times. Michael smiled at Calum whispering in his ear, telling him that he always gets his turn first no matter who he meets. The memory was sweet on his lips. Desperately trying to keep the lightness between them, Michael wanted to prolong the search for his beta. It was more time for them to keep things normal.

More time to keep tomorrow as far away as it could be.

As if it was timed, Michael couldn’t finish his thought when he walked into a cloud of that beautiful smell, more tangible than ever when Duke veered off to the side to smell a lump of cut grass.

Looking ahead into the near dark—Michael knew.

He swallowed hard when he stopped mid-pace. It was like a trance, an orchestral swell in his ears when you stepped into the light. Michael tried to keep himself cool. He was sporting a semi and a full on blush. It didn’t help his case when you came closer, trying to keep a fistful of leashes at crotch level. He sputtered for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. He asked Calum if he wanted ā€˜to eat’ the first time he met him—boasting about making him a cold sandwich while his parents were away. Michael was now ten years older and he couldn’t do anything but look you over while letting out hot air. He never learned how to woo anyone.

ā€œIt’s you.ā€

Michael held a sincere expression when his green eyes widened just enough to catch the amber light from above. You were out for a long walk outside of your neighborhood, trying to find peace from loud neighbors. Finding your alpha was completely different than you imagined it, as the blonde haired man with nothing to say was beautiful. It was like seeing the light of day for the first time after being told about it your whole life. Prepossessing, a sight that you have to see to believe that it can happen in your world. He was disheveled in a charming way. Shirt untucked with worry in his eyes—looking bright with your silhouette reflected in them.

ā€œI’m Michael.ā€

The dogs at his feet were laying on pavement in no rush. You stepped towards him to get a waft of the floral scent that had been just far enough away to make you feel like it would be years before you found him. But he was right there and it seemed too easy.

ā€œShould we go somewhere and talk?ā€

*
Calum lost his touch.

Hearing Michael and his beta bang the headboard against the wall brought back his jealousy with a vengeance. He picked it up as quickly as he lost it—taking his anger out on the plates in the kitchen that he left overnight. They weren’t bad. Both of them seemed to take his needs into consideration while keeping their moans to noise that could be covered up by the TV or Calum’s good headphones. Michael came out occasionally to snuggle up to him. He let him, not hugging him back when Michael’s chin was on his shoulder. He mentioned that he wanted him to meet you, trying guarantee that it would be pleasant.

Biological.

That was the word Calum tossed around in his head while Michael went off to have sex with his beta for the fifth time that day. You had unofficially moved in, staying with Michael in the guest room. It was normal for new pairs to go through a sex phase when getting to know each other—especially since Calum knew this was the longest rut his alpha endured. He assumed that it would be a few days until he settled down. Michael was trying to be romantic with someone else's hickies on his neck. Calum tried to keep himself at peace, feeling let down by a fact none of them could control. It was like a bruise on his heart forming in slow-motion. Calum thought it would never heal with how pain dripped into his unconscious—exposing his insecurities. His world collapsed inside of the rooms of their house. The foundation was solid, yet their relationship was ravaged by the presence of a beta. If anyone asked, Calum would have said he wasn’t the type to feel envy because he had the strongest bond with the man at his side.

But the more Michael groaned with the door closed, the more he felt ill.

ā€œHey. I have a question.ā€

Calum’s eyes met yours when he dropped the green soapy scrub brush he used on pans in the sink. Sweet was the first word that came to his head when you took a step towards him. Calum disagreed with Michael in the back of his mind. He had described your scent in passing as an overwhelming perfume. But you smelled like an ice cream drink he used to love when he was seven or eight, something else he used to share with his alpha.

ā€œWhat do you need?ā€

Calum tried to sound helpful instead of intimidating.

ā€œA bandage.ā€

You held out the top of your hand—sporting a cut above your knuckles. Based on the bruise around it, Calum assumed you hit the edge of the bedside table too hard due to Michael throwing you back on the mattress. He did it on every couples’ vacation they had ever been on, and he didn’t expect him to stop with someone new.

ā€œIt’s happened to me, too. Let me help, follow me.ā€

Calum found it easy to pretend like they had a house guest. He felt calm when he led you into their large bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and reaching for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. They had to keep it on hand for copious stunts that happened during the summer months. The view from the window was burning out—light struck between dusk and night. Calum’s jaw flexed before he pressed a cotton ball to your wound. He inhaled when he closed his eyes. The same way Michael did when he woke up with his nose pressed to your cheek. It was a projection of their time together. Michael and Calum were connected on a level that was beyond reason or ties to mates. You could see the inflection of Michael in his face, the wear of his love for someone else.

It distracted you from how good you thought his skin looked.

ā€œAll done.ā€

Calum left you with a blue PokƩmon band aid that he said was a gag gift with utility. He walked you out of their bedroom with his head turned towards the door. Not much stood out besides tousled sheets and an untouched half of a large bed. You smiled at Calum when his eyes drifted to your chest. A faint line was on your skin. Blistering red over the neck of your shirt.

Calum had one too, as it was Michael’s imprint.

Michael promised that he would do it after they talked it through on the first night. But there was an accidental mark instead, which wreaked of horny, sweaty, drunk Michael. Calum’s heart dropped for a second time that day. He tried to hide it—speaking in a flat tone.

ā€œHe marked you,ā€

You watched a strong brow turn into a broken line as Calum finished his sentence.

ā€œHe must really like you.ā€

*
ā€œPlease do this for me. I’m asking you as your partner.ā€

Your scent made Calum dizzy the more time you spent in the house. Far from negative, it put a lift in his step. Weeks passed and Michael came back to bed. He left for a few hours in the night to be with you, but he always came back. Sometimes smelling like sex—carrying your sweetness. Pangs of resentment flowed with Michael’s lingering hand on your back in the kitchen, or his affection geared towards you first when all three of you were in a room. He had made up for it with sex and circumstanical agreements to add an extension to the house.

Calum didn’t want to spend time alone with you until Michael asked him to.

ā€œFine. We’ll go on a date. Should I be home by 11?ā€

Calum pulled the collar of his shirt before Michael took his hand. His eyes were pleading, like he wanted something badly enough to clean the kitchen by himself for a month (after Calum taught him how).

ā€œA little room for a beta in our home would be nice,ā€

Michael was advocating for what he wanted for you. He was tired of Calum walking out of the room when he saw Michael try to kiss you. His aversion was based in his comfort zone. Michael could tell that Calum was trying his best to be okay as he was. He was split between loving Michael and hating that someone else had to crash into their new version of normalcy. He was afraid that he would be the one waking up in the guest room, maybe in another place entirely. The back of his mind juggled possibilities as he considered how he iced you out.

ā€œJust a little, Cal.ā€

Affection wasn’t even a question when you were now the first to make coffee. You made it too strong, and Calum didn’t like that you drank it walking around the house instead of at the table. Though he couldn’t ignore the effect of your scent. The weakness in his knees that came after smelling you in passing. According to a late night Google search, Omegas have to bond with a Beta for a connection to appear. He didn’t think much of it until he started getting aroused at the sight of you. It took work to keep his urges on the low—trying to find excuses to get away and force himself to keep calm. He wanted no one in his heart but Michael. No matter how hard it was to masturbate over the toilet without making a sound, he was determined to keep you out.

ā€œI’m trying, Michael.ā€

Calum looked in the mirror, tousling his hair before grabbing his jacket from the bed. He got a feeling when Michael was at his side. A fragment of nerves, a tension from someone in the other room. Calum had forgotten how hard it could be for him to stop his defenses before they were full blown.

ā€œI know. I want you to have a good time. Pretend I don’t exist.ā€

Michael kissed Calum on the cheek when he had his tattooed hand on the handle—looking in your direction. Michael wondered how long he’d have to wait up for the two of you. He assumed it wouldn’t be too late but made plans for it to be. Calum’s brown eyes downturned when his fingers brushed Michael’s, making sure he heard him before closing the door.

ā€œI could never do that, babe.ā€

*
ā€œAnd that is why I can’t apply there anymore, but I have my eye on UCLA.ā€

Calum finished a story about how Michael botched a potential college off the list due to an incident with a beer and a ballpoint pen. Sand moved between your toes when you turned your head. The moon was high—wrapped in a blanket of distant stars as the ocean rose to splash your ankles. A reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town opened by some blonde miracle. One look at the menu made Calum leave with your arm hooked in his, anxious to find the nearest place with a good veggie burger. You split french fries and kept consistent eye contact until closing. The beach was off limits but he knew a way around the side of taller sand dunes that weren’t gated. He held your shoes after the first half-mile, giving you a look of ā€˜I told you so’ when you took off your socks. Evening with Calum was nice in a way you weren’t expecting after his behavior in the house.

Something changed.

ā€œYou’re so nice.ā€

Calum laughed, respiring towards the sea.

ā€œI’m sorry. I’ve been such a dick to you.ā€

Sincerity met your ear when Calum stopped. He looked sorry—inspiring you to release some of the tension in your shoulders. Guilt was the main reason you didn’t try to get to know Calum sooner. You felt like an invader even though Michael said you could do what you wanted, secretly trying to please him without knowing it.

ā€œThere’s no real reason, but Michael,ā€

A wave in the distance cut him off.

ā€œHe’s my world. Took me a long time to feel okay expanding it.ā€

Calum was opening up for the first time. You assumed that his protective nature would fade the more he saw you without pants on. The man was locked tight—only open to those he wanted to give access to. You wanted to make sure he knew that you didn’t take what he said for granted. It was admirable that he let you see a softness in him even for a few seconds, holding on to his forearm.

ā€œI like being a part of it, even if it’s small.ā€

That was your way of saying ā€˜let’s start over’ to Calum. You replaced his horns to a halo in your mind’s eye, waiting for him to make your heart flutter with another kernel of his vulnerability.

ā€œI like it too. And I promise to tell you that.ā€

You desperately wanted that to be true. Calum’s face was so wonderful when he smiled. It was like a break of sunshine on a cloudy day—illuminating the colorless. He moved your hand from his forearm to his palm. Holding his hand felt right, his palm cupping yours with a gentle pressure. You wanted to know what it was like to be held by him. To feel his back on yours, steeped in Calum’s teakwood-like fragrance. You felt the heat of summertime in your chest while the cool of spring nipped your nose. Calum was all over your conscious mind.

He wasn’t an opponent.

He was a person of interest that you savored under your tongue when he kissed you. His lips tasted like the sweetest tint of his scent and something that reminded you of wine. He pulled back to witness the possession of the moment in your eyes—going back with a focus on your bottom lip. Every molecule in your body succumbed to the heatwave between your thighs. Calum’s hands sloped downward, cresting on your lower back. Something aligned and Calum met you halfway, coming back from his third kiss.

ā€œHave I ever mentioned that you smell incredible?ā€

*
Michael’s fingers tapped on the table when he checked the time.

2:15.

Calum was never out past eleven unless they were together, at least in the time he knew him. It was odd being in the house alone, small creaks and noises from the refrigerator capturing his attention.

There was something else too.

Michael narrowed his eyes when he heard a small squeak near the bedrooms. It wasn’t in the master—leading Michael to the guest room. A lamp was on. One across the room, mimicking sunlight when Michael opened the door just enough to look inside. Two naked bodies in the center of the mattress made Michael’s eyes wide. He didn’t expect anything to happen, let alone to find Calum pressing his face in the valley of your chest after one dinner. Michael watched Calum handle you between his legs. He bedded you at an expert level—moaning at the sensation of your nails gripped on the tops of his biceps. It felt wrong for Michael to be there. He felt like it wasn’t fair for him to feel anything but joy that his beta and omega were getting along, no animosity. A part of Michael wanted to masturbate to the sight of Calum balls deep in someone else, another part of him wanted to interrupt. Michael decided to leave it until he couldn’t—his hoodie pocket catching on the door and making a loud knock when the door swung forward.

ā€œWhat the fuck?ā€

Calum moved the comforter to cover you both. He pulled out before Michael awkwardly entered, blushing because he got caught.

ā€œSorry. I didn’t realize you were home.ā€

He looked Calum in the eye before getting a glance at the cock that satisfied him all this time. Michael was horny and a little surprised, backing out of the door when Calum spoke.

ā€œYeah, I think you realized for quite some time.ā€

Michael left with a nod and telling Calum he would see him in bed. It was too late to have the conversation about new relationship dynamics. Sex with Calum made you want as much of both of them as you could—still craving him even after a third orgasm. He kissed your forehead before he stood up, raising his eyebrows.

ā€œI want to make sure he’s okay.ā€

You nodded, sheets puddled around your waist. You ignored the urge to pull him back to bed, especially when you remembered the blowjob you gave Michael in front of the kitchen sink. Being in the Hood-Clifford household had been spats, affection, and quarrels so far. It was an adjustment to get used to the attention of two men when you were so used to being alone with your desires. Calum had gone from avoiding you that morning to fucking you. It was something to think about—an event that needed all the space you had when Calum closed the door. You felt like you had lost touch with how you imagined your day to go, flopping back on the bed with an exhale.

ā€œI don’t care if you stay in there.ā€

Michael pulled his shirt over his head in the master bedroom, mussing his hair as Calum dried himself with a towel.

ā€œI know. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to check on you.ā€

Calum pulled his boxers up before settling into bed. He liked to adjust his pillows to his preference first, as he knew he’d have to change it in the middle of the night when Michael rolled over to hold him. He did want to check on Michael. It felt strange to be with anyone else and getting approval felt fair. Calum didn’t ask for the same when Michael slept with you. Then again, it was Michael. If he killed someone Calum would find a way to rationalize it because he loved him that much. No matter how bratty he could be about vegetables or accidental fuckups Michael had, it wouldn’t change his feelings. He could do anything and Calum would take it.

Finding Michael’s heart when they were teenagers made him want to see his face at all hours of the day—even if he just had sex with someone else.

ā€œI love you.ā€

Michael sat up when he saw Calum clutch their top sheet. The changes in his face said it all. Calum was feeling someone other than Michael in his heart. He wasn’t sure if he liked feeling so full of love—a wrong club of two instead of a monogamous partner. Michael pressed his forehead on Calum’s when he saw the comfort in his eyes fade out. Feeling it for him wasn’t an option. Michael was full with the responsibility of his mates, his first folding in his arms when he turned his head. A perfectly timed comfort, Michael kissed Calum on the cheek when he saw a tear fall on the fabric of his shorts.

ā€œI love you more than I could ever tell you, Calum.ā€

*
Michael opened a bottle of champagne with the back of a knife.

It was after 5. The house was filled with new connections and love—bringing all three of you together with bad movies and adjusting two person recipes to accomodate 3 people (or four, with the way Calum was trying to bulk up). He wanted to make things special for his invented mating ceremony. As Alpha, Michael thought it was his responsibility to set up the itinerary:

- Dinner
- Drinks
- Sex until he could knot his beta and beat his personal record of two orgasms in one night

It seemed like the right choice to be against going out. Calum mentioned it would be better if they bonded at home. Michael and Calum booked an expensive hotel room in Sydney when they decided that they wanted to bond the first time. It ended with Calum distracted by the noise of an event and Michael not able to pull out until he came 30 minutes later, leaving Calum with bruises on his sides.

It wasn’t romantic—very much in the style of their early days.

Now their house was filled with candles. Soaked in low light with the patio doors open just enough to get a view of the sun falling behind the trees in the distance. It was nice. Both of them changed right in front of you with passing weeks. Michael became more confident in his declarations. Saying what he wanted, and what he felt with you. Seeing him that evening on the street was the inception of a new story—leaving your Alpha at the apple of your eye. Calum wasn’t far behind. He surprised you with doing things for you after you made up. He made your coffee and brought it to bed, he kissed the back of your neck after hugging you. His acts of service spoke much louder than anything else, letting you know that he was feeling something too. Together and apart—your partners proved themselves to be essential to your life and bond.

Calum laid against the island in the kitchen while Michael had his head on your shoulder until he went to get more alcohol, notioning for Calum to say something.

ā€œI’m happy that you’re here with us,ā€

He raised his glass to you before taking a small pull from the rim. His cheeks reddened when he said something that made him nervous. You were never tired of seeing the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you, met with Michael’s nod of approval when he finished his sentence.

ā€œYou mean a lot to me.ā€

Michael cooed when Calum swatted his hand in his direction. You smiled into your glass, wondering how the night would progress. You had been with both of them individually. Sex was normal depending on the time of day. Michael usually woke you up with sex (something you never complained about) and Calum would come in for an afternoon or early evening fuck before dinner. You knew that Michael and Calum had sex whenever they were inspired to based on the way moans traveled throughout the house. Yet, even with that context, a threesome seemed more daunting now that it was likely to happen. You placed your bets on quality time to wipe away any apprehension you had.

It gave you chills.

Michael walked towards the living room with a board of light after-dinner snacks he was proud of, raising his eyebrows for dramatic effect.

ā€œShall we continue?ā€

*

ā€œOh, fuck.ā€

Michael stroked himself when he watched you pull back from Calum’s cock. Your mouth was still open when Michael’s hand cupped your backside. Watching him stroke himself was a performance of its own. His thumb grazed his tip with light force. He looked over your naked body painfully slow—massaging his balls with anticipation. The sound of his palm moving up and down his shaft made you want to beg him to come inside of you. Michael was desperate for you, making you dizzy with adoration. It would be sexy and special when he spilled his load while you came. Something that was once so distant was right in your lap—fixed with two hard cocks and wandering eyes.

The drinks portion of the evening migrated to the bedroom time when Michael got handsy between the two of you. The three of you piled on to Michael and Calum’s bed, leaving clothes behind in a rush.

Fear was the last thing on your mind when you felt both of their hands on you at once. It was a warmth that you couldn’t describe. A mix of their scents—a lusty rendition of intimacy times two.

Michael felt the peak of his rut when he teased himself.

You felt him between your legs when Calum kissed you first, letting Michael’s bare tip graze your hole for the first time. You could feel drops of precum marking his territory. Michael was possessive, holding you in place while you tried your best to stimulate both of them at once. Small groans grew to exaggerated moans when Michael’s fingers traced your opening. It felt pointed. He showed himself as in control when he moved your foot over his shoulder. Your legs were opened wide when Michael pushed the tip of his finger in. He pulled it out to wet the tips of his middle and index finger, taking pleasure in watching you contract under his touch.

ā€œThat’s my beta,ā€

You tightened around him when he curved his fingers upward. You moaned when he kissed the top of your knee, pushing his digits deeper as you reacted to his touch. He wasn’t moving inside of you. Michael waited for you to get frustrated, leaning over to watch your lip quiver.

ā€œYou’re going to have to be a slut if you want my knot.ā€

Michael looked good with a hint of mischief in his eye. He was confident when he started to move his fingers inside of you and then stop, enjoying the struggle. Calum watched Michael handle you from the side. He was into the slow burn of teasing that Michael had in place. He endured his share of torture from Michael being too horny to go easy on him—memories of overstimulation and rough fucks flooding his mind when he saw you move under Michael’s influence.

Calum tried to ignore his erection until he couldn’t.

He leaned over you, focused on your nipples with his tongue rolling over the rise of the skin. His forehead rested on the valley of your chest when he simulated your left nipple. Feeling both of them at once made your sex throb between your legs. Arousal turned into something else when their scents became a symphony of every want you had. You were desperate for more, more fingers, more teasing, more of Michael trying to get you overwhelmed. An incredible sense of longing plucked up inside of you when your alpha changed positions. Calum moved to the side when Michael moved between your legs. His length looked intimidating when it crested your opening. Michael’s tip teased you with a formed wetness on his slit.

You needed him to fuck you.

Michael pushed his tip in your opening with a low growl. He couldn’t contain himself. Calum watched as Michael’s head rolled back. He was already so close to knotting, solidifying the bond that brought you together. You tried to focus on every sensation Michael’s cock inspired in your body. Hard nipples, tension in your thighs. Michael’s thrusts ripped through your core. Heat kept the two of you together, a tension changing the way his movements met your sweet spot. It felt like his cock was fit to fill you. Michael barely moved when he caught himself on the edge. His fingers pressed on your nipples as his balls slapped against the skin of your opening. Michael was fraying from the friction. You knew that he was feeling the most from your sex-thrusting as deep as he could. You could tell something changed in his face. He was connected to you in that moment. All walls down, any distractions from the unadulterated truth of Michael far away.

Your body bloomed into the biotic ritual that would make you his.

Michael’s chest was shallow when he lifted you up. He wanted to watch you when it happened, wrapping his arms around you before kissing your neck. His voice cracked when you slacked around him. You held his shoulder when you felt your arousal spiked. It was the way his cock moved inside of you, the small shift of his tip through rigid muscle.

Keeping his orgasm at bay didn’t last when you pulled on his bottom lip.

Michael came with power, hot cum spilling inside of your hole. You could feel every part of your sex in a new way—as if you could sense Michael’s pleasure in your own body. The sensation was heightened, growing stronger while his cum settled inside of you. He moved one of his hands between your legs. Michael met your opening at the end of his cock, rubbing there. He licked his lips when he saw your mouth open. A thought of how good you looked filled him with adoration. You were his beta, someone that made his balls ache two minutes after an orgasm. Michael knew he would have to cum again for his knot to loosen, focused on you while he did his best to keep you excited. His gaze moved to Calum when he got you to moan in his mouth. He steadied himself at the end of the bed, occasionally running his thumb over his tip with expectation. Michael felt a small tweak of heat—inspired by Calum watching him with someone else.

Your second orgasm was close.

Sex with Michael felt like a dream—balmy with a side of desperation. Michael bit his lip before he came again, trying to get you off to seal the ritual. You had never seen him so wild. His hair was all over his head when you felt a rise in your core. This was an orgasm unlike any other. Your legs felt like they would give out any second when Michael’s tip moved deeper, the mix of his cum and his thrusts pushing you to break. Your body tensed when you felt Michael’s hands on your hips. He kept the two of you connected while you saw the ceiling change shape with the rattle of your satisfaction.

ā€œJesus Christ.ā€

Michael’s face flushed when he exhaled. He took you in his arms when you leaned forward, drawing shapes on your lower back while he waited for his knot to dissipate. Calum came towards the two of you to help you relax, kneeling next to Michael. He looked content with both of you. You wanted him too. Calum looked irresistible—his lips a deeper shade of pink as he watched. Thinking about Calum’s touch motivated you to stay still. His cock made you think about getting fucked again in a matter of minutes. Your arousal started again when Michael’s cum dribbled out of your opening, making you tense with the desire of being filled. He pulled out when you settled back on the bed. You were warm when Michael and Calum switched places, wasting no time as Calum settled between your legs.

ā€œI think you know how good Calum is at cleaning up.ā€

Michael sat to the side, watching the two of you with his cock in his hand. You whimpered when Calum’s mouth met your core. His tongue was flat when he lapped up Michael’s finish. You felt hollow when your pulse rang in your ears. Calum wanted to get every trace of cum—pushing his tongue inside of you while he pushed your legs apart. Another orgasm was bound to cum with his tongue moving in your hole. He focused on rubbing his thumb on the small mark Michael made with his mouth when he teased you earlier—licking it when he came up for air. Calum’s tongue made your heart flutter. He got the last bit of Michael’s cum on his finger and put it in his mouth. You were turned on by how playful he was. He felt you on the edge with the sweetness of his kiss, pulling you towards him with intention.

Michael was whining under his breath.

He was hard again, thinking about the next time he would get to fuck both of you under his discretion. Staying on the sidelines was enough for him to beat himself at his own game—his cock twitching at the sight of Calum cresting your opening.

ā€œI need you.ā€

Heat wafted from Calum’s body when he lined himself up with your hole. You held on to his forearms with a grip, your hole adjusting to the tip of another cock. He let up quickly, moaning from the desire he had for you. It was odd seeing Calum in this space. Things had been so complicated until he decided to open himself to you. You had a feeling for him that made your heart glow, his feelings for you shining through with the way he handled you. Calum’s pace rose steadily as his hands rested on your thighs, applying pressure when he pushed himself balls deep inside of you. You sighed when you gripped the comforter to anchor the euphoria that built with Calum’s sex—crying out. His face knit with concentration when he met the edge of his own orgasm, swallowing hard. Michael was humping a pillow on the side of your bodies, a string of precum breaking when he moved closer to Calum.

Everything came to a head.

Michael couldn’t make a coherent sentence when he rose to his knees—leaning towards his cock when Calum’s thrusts got sloppy. You felt yourself brink when you saw Michael kiss Calum. It inspired Calum to pull out of you at the last second and bring himself to come on your torso. They synchronized their orgasms, Michael’s hand on Calum’s cock as ropes of cum fell from your chest to your opening. You came from the image above you, barely noticing your hands between your legs when you watched your partners get each other off. Your wetness sent you somewhere else when another orgasm took over. You felt yourself tense for a minute straight. It was like every feeling you ever had mixed into one—marking the experience with more pleasure than you thought you could feel. The tips of their cocks met in Michael’s hand as Calum kneaded Michael’s balls. They were lost in each other—wrapped in desire while they placed kisses wherever their lips landed. You could feel the tension in your body release. Your urges transformed into something new, feeling Michael and Calum all at once.

Their cum glistened on your skin.

Something new stirred inside of you when you began to come down. A tenderness—a sentiment that grew when you watched Michael and Calum recover at the end of the bed. It was hard to consider that you hadn’t been with them forever. All you wanted was this, the three of you breathing in tempo after being so close.

A stretch of time passed before Calum went into the bathroom to get a towel. He came to you first—wiping you down with a kiss to your temple. Discerning his mood was easy with your connection intact. His eyes flashed with love when he stopped to look at your face. Calum blinked only to keep staring. He was searching for something to say when Michael found the top of your shoulder, the dots tattooed on his finger rising when you took a breath.

ā€œSo, are there any post-ritual traditions?ā€

Michael scoffed when you moved, letting your head on his chest.

ā€œNo, but we can make some.ā€

Calum joined the embrace. He faced you and kissed you softly. You met his lips with a new appreciation for how his top lip rested on your cupid’s bow before he went back for another. All three of you were in a solar system of your own—planets pulled by the gravity of what you meant to each other. You couldn’t be without them even if you wanted to be, your universe resting on both sides of your naked body. You thought about the future. How your lives would meld into one—how each of your secrets would deepen what was already there.

You were drifting between consciousness and dreaming, barely registering Michael’s quiet voice above you. He was speaking to both of you—securing himself in the arrangement of what you were.

ā€œI’ll love you forever.ā€

Ā 

Ā