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Rehabilitating Kevin into drinking human blood has always been an uphill battle. Prissy as he is, the vampire always has a new reason to avoid it — he already ate; he’s not hungry; his chiffon shirt is new and vintage , Andrew, and he won’t risk messing it up with lousy human blood. He tries to snob his way out of healthy meals, but Andrew knows Kevin better than that.
He remembers a freshly Nest-escaped Kevin, shaking at his doorstep, starved and defanged and lost. It was punishment, apparently, for overindulging, but they both knew better. Kevin was scared off from feeding on humans for months after the year-long wait for his fangs to grow back. He had to be nursed like a sick pup. Even after healing, he still shied away from people and blood banks out of fear of losing control. Leaving the Nest may have saved him, but did nothing to break Kevin’s bad habits.
Neil’s arrival made things easier. Aside from his shared past with Kevin, there was something enticing about Neil from the start — something other than the way he changed forms like water. Andrew dealt with the tension for months before he walked in on Kevin feeding on Neil for the first time, and the three of them had a long, arduous talk that ended with a disgusting amount of sweat and blood. Now, Kevin is more likely to feed from Neil when he’s having a particularly rough feeding period. He trusts the two of them to keep him in control.
This night is one of many, many long nights in Kevin’s recovery.
Andrew and Neil sit silently across from each other in the living room — one reading an old novel while the other is half-asleep — when Kevin comes fluttering through. His long dark hair is pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, putting his dangly gold and coral red earrings on display. His brown skin is paler than usual — a sign of underfeeding. Andrew puts a bookmark into his novel and places it on the side table. “Are you searching for something, or is this some vamp-related illness we should be worried about?”
Kevin sneers, but doesn’t respond. The gold caps covering his fangs glint in the dim light, and Andrew considers his interest relatively peaked. “You’re wearing your fang caps. Is there an event Neil and I weren’t invited to?”
In the armchair across from the couch, Neil perks up. The color of his eyes shifts from sleepy brown to shocking blue. He has freckles today, a feature of his true skin. They peek out from the loose collar of a ratty t-shirt Andrew and Kevin keep trying to get rid of to no avail. “You’re going out without us?”
Neil grabs Kevin by the back of his white skin-tight shirt, and Kevin pauses long enough to hiss and slap Neil’s hand away. Ever determined, Neil seizes hold of Kevin’s forearm. The two of them enter a fairly entertaining tussle. Andrew watches much longer than he should have, making vague comments about watching out for their furniture. Only when the scuffle takes a turn into actual fighting — and after watching the two of them fall to the floor — does he intervene.
He calls out, “Junkie, catch,” and lugs his book at Neil’s head.
Neil’s head shoots up from where he was nose-to-nose with Kevin. He catches the book with ease. The distraction is enough for Kevin to throw Neil off from where he’s straddling his waist. Neil groans as Kevin scrambles to his feet. “Andrew,” he whines. “You promised you wouldn’t meddle in our matches anymore.”
Andrew rolls his eyes and places his hand out. Neil hands him his book with faux irritation. He places the novel on the side table. “You,” he says and points at Kevin. Andrew then points to the spot beside his chair. The vampire scoffs, but when Andrew quirks his brow, Kevin listens. He cups a heavy hand at the back of Kevin’s neck and pulls him down. “What is your problem?”
“Nothing,” Kevin mumbles. He twists in Andrew’s stare, but can’t move very far with Andrew’s firm grip on his neck. Emerald eyes gleam, frantically glancing back and forth with nowhere to go.
Andrew hums, using his free hand to cup Kevin’s chin. He turns the vampire’s pretty face this way and that. Andrew presses his thumb against the mole beneath Kevin’s left eye. The vampire swallows. “Neil,” he says, “come look at this.”
Andrew senses Neil’s approach more than he hears him, choosing to hold Kevin’s gaze instead of following the shapeshifter’s movements. Neil leans heavily against the left arm of the chair. His breath brushes against Andrew’s skin.
“Hm….” Neil pokes and prods at Kevin’s cheeks until the vampire snaps at his fingers. He just barely pulls away, and Andrew huffs in amusement. “I’m seeing a lot of things, ‘Drew, but you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“Our vampire is looking paler than usual.” Kevin’s eyes widen. Andrew pushes on. “It seems he hasn’t been following his regular feeding schedule.”
“I see,” Neil mutters. He frowns. Andrew can see the gears turning in his head. Neil is such a visual thinker, though he’ll deny it if anyone ever mentions it. His brow furrows and his eyes dim. If he’s lost in his thoughts, the edges of Neil’s form tend to shimmer, preparing for a switch.
Neil leans forward and pinches at Kevin’s cheek. Kevin hisses, and the skin pales further, not regaining its usual rosiness. “That’s not right,” says Neil. “You fed from me two days ago. I should’ve kept you full for at least another four days.”
Kevin starts squirming in earnest now. Andrew tightens his grip on the man’s chin. It would hurt any other person, but Kevin’s tolerance for pain has always been higher than most — even by vampire standards. Still, Andrew is mindful of his claws. The hand cradling the back of Kevin’s neck is now fisted in the front of his shirt.
“Andrew,” Kevin pleads.
He tilts his head. “If I let you go, you will tell me the truth.” Andrew flexes his fingers in Kevin’s shirt. His head grows slightly murky staring into the deep, swirling pupils of his green eyes. After a long silence, Kevin nods, and Andrew releases him.
Kevin clears his throat as he stands at full height again. He smooths out any wrinkles in his shirt. “You two have no consideration for luxury pieces. I had this shirt made decades ago.”
Neil grumbles something under his breath that makes Kevin growl. Neil is unrepentant despite Andrew’s glare, but he mimes zipping his lips shut.
Kevin fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. He looks miserable. The longer Andrew looks, the more signs of under-feeding he can find. Kevin huffs, “I…I didn’t do it on purpose. Obviously. I overindulged, I think. It made me sick.”
He crosses his arms over his middle, and Andrew catches the split moment where the corner of Kevin’s mouth twitches down. Try as he might, Kevin has never hidden his emotions as well as he believes he can.
Neil reaches out and tugs Kevin closer by the waist of his pants. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“It wasn’t an issue,” Kevin explains. “I’ve been without blood for longer. I can wait for my next feeding.” He runs a hand through his hair and lingers at the ends. “Besides, your body needs time to recover, and nobody drinks from Andrew.”
“Is that what your caps are for? To curb your hunger?”
Kevin clenches his jaw and nods.
Andrew and Neil share a look. Damn their vampire for being so self-destructive in the name of consideration. Kevin is pushy and insistent over many things in their lives. Leave it to him to be this careless about his terrible habits. This is something Andrew has to take care of himself.
He hauls himself to his feet, grabbing Kevin by his forearm and Neil by his wrist. “Go upstairs. My room. We’re solving this now.”
There’s little protest as Andrew drags both men up the twisting staircase and past the many eclectic paintings along the hall walls. Well, Kevin tries, but Neil shushes him at every turn, and the two fall into a hushed bickering that Andrew cares little for. If anything, the arguing was Neil’s intention. Kevin may not have a pulse, but Andrew still feels the rabbiting of his soul in his veins. It’s good to give him something as a distraction.
The door to his room is partially open. Andrew toes it open the rest of the way. A sliver of light snakes along the floor from where his blackout curtains part against the wide bay window. He guides Kevin and Neil to the king-sized bed in the farthest corner of the room. “Sit down.”
Neil stretches out the way cats do in the sun, vertebrae popping. He crawls to the middle of the bed and then lies there. Kevin stands stock-still, posture brimming with anxious anticipation. It’s awfully comedic, all things considered. An apex predator should not feel this out of place in his own house, especially in a room so familiar.
It only takes a few moments for Andrew to arrange the scene — door closed, curtains shut, the chair of his desk dragged to the edge of the bed. He pushes Kevin onto the mattress, long hair splaying around his face like a halo. Three years after meeting him, Kevin’s only gotten healthier — prettier, more delicate. It’s enough to make his mouth water.
Andrew grips the back of his chair as he sits down. Neil sits beside Kevin, and the two of them watch Andrew patiently, wide-eyed and waiting. He stares back until Kevin starts squirming.
“What are we doing again?” He asks, somehow managing to sound put upon despite having nothing asked of him yet.
Andrew rubs his thumb against the corner of his mouth. He leans forward, resting on his knees. “You,” he points to Kevin, “are going to eat. I’m here to keep you from gorging yourself like a tick.”
Something twinkles in Neil’s eyes, but Kevin looks like the floor just fell out from under him. Andrew rarely involves himself with Neil and Kevin’s feeding sessions. Blood drinking always devolves into something messier. Both of them are biters, and most days Andrew can’t be bothered.
Kevin’s throat bobs. He stammers around his words for a long time before Andrew puts a palm over his mouth. “Stop. Think before you speak.”
“Are you sure?” he finally asks. “I- We- Blood has never been your thing. Neil and I can get rather carried away.”
At that, Neil snorts. He leans wholly into Kevin’s space. “You have such a juvenile aversion to dirty talk.”
“I just don’t see the reason to be needlessly vulgar,” Kevin snipes. “
The smile on Neil’s face is wicked, all canines and splitting edges. The way his head tilts brushes his curls into his eyes. He flicks his head to the side, but the wisps of hair fall back in place. Andrew reaches out, and Neil places his face in Andrew’s hand. “You can leave whenever you need to,” reminds Neil.
Andrew nods. He drags his chair a little closer, placing a hand on Kevin’s knee. He says, “After you,” and watches as the two arrange themselves.
Neil wastes no time in tossing off his shirt, his body lithe and deliciously tanned. Andrew places a hand against his stomach only for a moment, feeling how the muscle contracts beneath the scarred skin. Neil shivers. He scoots into Kevin’s waiting legs, back to chest, and presses a kiss to the underside of the vampire’s jaw.
Kevin places his hands on Neil’s waist, deliberating for a moment before he takes his shirt off as well. He folds the garment with care before handing it to Andrew. “Blood is a terrible thing to get out of white,” he says.
Andrew wrinkles his nose, but he sets the shirt on the dresser a few feet away. Pleased, Kevin tugs Neil closer by his waist. He noses up Neil’s neck with a stuttering sigh, nipping at the hinge of his jaw. A grin spreads slowly over Neil’s face. His blue eyes are lidded, but he makes eye contact with Andrew through his lashes.
Under his breath, Kevin mumbles one more searching question. Neil nods. The muscles in his neck flex as he cranes his head to one side. Andrew watches, enraptured. Kevin uses one hand to remove his fang caps, tossing them haphazardly onto the sheets. He raises his arm from Neil’s waist and wraps it around his chest.
Kevin’s lips part. His fangs catch in the light, shiny with spit and venom. Andrew pinpoints the moment Kevin catches the pulse — a predator on the hunt. Something gleams in his eyes. He lines his teeth up with Neil’s jugular, eliciting a whine from the shapeshifter.
Andrew watches as Kevin’s fangs break skin. Neil’s eyes jolt open, a broken gasp clawing up his throat and melting into a moan. His body arches closer to Kevin, and his shape flickers in quick succession. Just little things — the appearance and disappearance of scars, hair, and eye color, the shape of his nose and mouth. He soon settles into his true skin, scars and all. Neil’s teeth are sharp in his mouth when he gasps again.
Behind him, Kevin has one focus. Eyes glazed over, hair fallen to one side of his face, he feasts with ill-contained content. When Andrew shifts in his chair, his gaze flickers toward him only for a moment. It makes his mouth go dry.
“How does it feel?” asks Andrew, surprised by how rough his voice sounds. He clears his throat and sits taller in his chair — trying to keep the pure image of disinterest.
Neil hums. His eyelids flutter. The front of his sweats tent slightly. “It’s- it’s amazing,” he stutters. “Only hurts for a bit. The venom takes most of the bite out of it.” He huffs at his joke. Gentle, Neil pets the side of Kevin’s face. He mumbles sweet nothings into the room, praising Kevin for his work. Kevin’s shoulders relax even more as he preens.
They look amazing together. Andrew knows this. He spends every waking moment watching them both — disciplined passion against desperate desire. Neil and Kevin are two different flavors of the same thing — a ravenous, insatiable will to live.
It’s apparent in how Kevin’s lips press against Neil’s neck, rosy color slowly seeping back into his cheeks.
It’s apparent from Neil’s groans growing louder as he shifts in Kevin’s lap.
A searing heat burns through his veins. Andrew can’t bring himself to look away.
Kevin’s feeding gets sloppy. He’s relinquished himself to his base instincts, groaning loudly when Neil presses back against him. A dark line of blood leaks from his mouth, down Neil’s shoulder, and pools in his collarbone.
Andrew can’t look away from it. Instinctively, he places a heavy hand against the nape of Kevin’s neck. Kevin growls. “It’s me,” he says, pressing down harder. He feels Kevin’s throat convulse as he swallows another mouthful, and twitches in his pants. Neil whines, and Andrew’s reminded of the original reason he’s here.
He taps Kevin’s throat twice. “You’re going to burst if you drink anymore, you leech.” Kevin whines, high and reedy. Andrew rubs circles against his pulse with his thumb. “You will eat yourself sick. We want to avoid that. Let go.”
It takes some more coaxing, but Kevin eventually tosses his head back with a soft cry. He gasps, taking gulps of breath he doesn’t need, then laps at the two entry wounds in Neil’s neck. Kevin holds Neil in place by his hair, tongue chasing down his shoulder and sucking the blood pooled in his collarbone. When he makes eye contact with Andrew, his eyes are black. Andrew lets his arm drop back into his lap and does his best to ignore the throbbing between his legs.
Neil falls back against Kevin’s chest like his strings have been cut. He grabs Kevin by the chin and yanks him down into a filthy kiss, wet with spit and blood. Andrew suppresses a groan when Neil’s tongue darts out to swipe at the stray blood on Kevin’s chin. He pins Andrew with a heavy gaze, visibly smug. “Well,” he says, out of breath, “d’ya think our Andrew enjoyed the show?”
Kevin hums as he kisses along Neil’s neck, leaving traces of red wherever his mouth touches. He places one final kiss to Neil’s jaw and releases his hair, running his long fingers through auburn rings. He looks at Andrew searchingly, lingering at the growing bulge in his pants. He blinks, slowly and drags his fangs over his bottom lip. Kevin, eyes hot and still messy from his meal, says, “You are still welcome to leave if you’d like.”
Andrew swallows around the lump in his throat. He should leave. Blood has never been his thing the way it was Neil’s or Kevin’s. Andrew is not a killer on instinct. Werewolves do not need to hunt to survive. Granted, neither does Neil, but his presence is much less of a threat. Vampires are different — consuming someone else’s life is necessary for them. The act is vulnerable, carnal. Kevin, with his black, blood-drunk eyes, could become territorial at any moment.
Either of them could get severely hurt. He’s never risked it before.
He stands. Both pairs of eyes follow his ascent, making Andrew’s skin crawl. He turns on his heel and gets as far as the door. He stops, turns back to the men behind him on the bed, and presses the door fully closed.
Now and then, Andrew enjoys a risk.
Neil wolf whistles as Andrew pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it. He sits in front of his partners, eyes raking their conjoined bodies. He wants to touch them — to claim them — but there’s a method to these sorts of interspecies couplings. “We will stop at any sign of discomfort,” he vows. “You two will speak clearly, and openly. Any apprehension about my involvement and I leave. Do you understand?”
Both men nod, though Kevin’s comes a beat after Neil’s does. Andrew glares at him. “Kevin, if you feel that I’m a threat in any way, I will leave. You will tell me if that happens. This is non-negotiable.”
“Of course,” reassures Kevin. He’s taking deep, steadying breaths, but the end of his sentence wavers. He rests his head on Neil’s shoulder, who pets the top of his head. “If it would make you more comfortable, I’ll relinquish control to you.”
Before he can even process that, Neil pipes up, asking, “Where can we touch you?”
“Above the waist, for now. Watch the teeth, watch the claws.”
He nods eagerly, a puppy with a one-track mind. Andrew pulls him into a searing kiss. Neil melts into his mouth, possibly too blissed out from the venom coursing through him to put up his usual snarky fight. His mouth is tangy with copper.
Watchful Kevin breathes out a sigh when Andrew pulls away from Neil, drawing his attention like a beacon. He licks his lips. Kevin shudders.
When they kiss, it’s hesitant. It’s a chase. Andrew leans forward. Kevin turns away. Andrew huffs, brushes their mouths together, and Kevin flinches. It’s not as easygoing; there’s a fight, a struggle, a dance. A question. A call and response.
Neither of them has infinite patience. The next time he and Kevin kiss, it’s hard enough to bruise. Kevin gasps into Andrew’s mouth. A growl rumbles in Andrew’s chest as he presses further forward. It’s then he remembers how tightly Neil is pressed between them.
His hand snakes up to Neil’s knee. He mumbles a question against Kevin’s lips. Neil’s affirmation comes as a shuddery, “yes”. His hand climbs higher. Neil is painfully hard in his pants, and Andrew does him the kind favor of removing them and squeezing the redhead over his boxers. He’s rewarded with a muffled moan and Neil’s hot breath against his neck.
Teeth graze his skin, followed by the slow drag of tongue, and Andrew reaches into his endless well of control to not come. Still, it’s a near thing. He pulls away when his wrist starts to cramp. “We cannot keep going like this.”
Neil hums in assent, though he makes no effort to move. Kevin returns to kissing his neck, and it takes Andrew pinching Neil’s inner thighs to gain his attention. “Well,” he moans, clearing his throat, “Kevin’s spacey right now. Drunk. Gotta get through to him first.”
Andrew calls for Kevin, but the vampire keeps lapping at Neil’s neck, almost like he’s debating where next to pierce. After the fifth whine, he tugs Kevin away from Neil’s neck by his hair. Kevin bares his teeth. Andrew’s grip tightens. He levels the vampire with a stare. “You have to be present if you want this to continue. Do you hear me?”
There’s no response at first. Andrew nods at Neil, who moves from between them to flank Kevin’s left side. Kevin gnashes his teeth, and Andrew bares his in response, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Kevin.” Andrew yanks his head back further. “You will control yourself. You will respond. Do you understand?”
Though Kevin growls at him, his eyes clear momentarily. He blinks a few times, slowly coming back to himself. Andrew releases his grip. Neil’s hands snake into Kevin’s hair and scratch at his scalp, earning a pleased sigh. “Andrew asked you a question, Kev.”
Kevin nods. His heavy breathing is loud in the silence of the room, chest heaving with more effort than it should be. “I- yes. I understand.” Neil kisses the underside of his jaw, and Kevin nearly loses himself again. “I meant what I said earlier. You have control.”
Andrew remembers, of course. The words make him twitch in his pants, stirring something deep inside him. At the same time, a cold bucket of reality always threatens to spill over. Andrew takes a steadying breath. He says, “I’m not sure you know what those words mean,” because how could someone - how could Kevin, of all people - be willing to make such a loaded statement? “There are implications. There are rules. We, especially us, must be more careful than others. You cannot say those things and mean them. Not without caveats.”
Kevin, ever so stubborn, shakes his head. “I know,” he affirms. He reaches for Andrew’s hand, and when the blond doesn’t pull away, simply knocks their knuckles together. “I mean it. I will say something if necessary, but I want to give my control to you.”
Swallowing is hard, but Andrew manages. Kevin looks impossibly demure, with his long lashes and fluttering gaze and full lips. Andrew wonders if it’s purposeful, if all vampires are this beautiful, or if there’s something otherworldly about Kevin altogether. It must be the latter. Nobody has ever made his mouth this dry. “Your lack of survival skills never ceases to frustrate me.”
He looks at Neil, who’s waiting patiently off at Kevin’s side. When Neil catches him, he smirks, and that sets Andrew’s nerves at ease. He places a hand at Neil’s nape and presses him towards Kevin. The two move as one, melding effortlessly. Andrew struggles to kick his jeans off and lets them fall to the floor.
Andrew palms himself through his underwear as Kevin licks earnestly into Neil’s mouth. His meditative breathing stutters as he watches the two of them grind together. Neil buries his teeth in Kevin’s shoulder, and the vampire moans unabashedly, head lolling to the side in hazy bliss. Andrew sits back and does the thing he knows best – he stares, tracking their every movement.
His chest pangs when Kevin kisses down Neil’s torso, dick twitching when Kevin strips Neil down to his briefs. Kevin brushes his face against where Neil strains against his underwear. The redhead gasps and reaches for Andrew, who takes his hand.
Keeping composure is an uphill battle. Kevin is relentless in his teasing. He mouths at Neil through his briefs like a starved man but refuses to take them off. He kisses and suckles and pulls at the fabric with his teeth, and Neil holds Kevin’s head down, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to keep from yelling.
Andrew squeezes Neil’s thigh with his free hand. “Is this what I’ve missed?” He asks. He slides his hand up his leg and beneath the leg of Neil’s underwear. The brush of Andrew’s knuckles makes him groan. He flickers. Andrew tilts his head. “Thought it would be Kevin writhing like this.”
Neil pants, chest heaving like he’s run a marathon and cheeks flushed cherry red. He glares with no real heat, the crease in his brow melting when Andrew wraps a hand around him. “Blame him. He’s the one showing off.”
”Oh? Is that right?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kevin scoffs, but the fresh blood in his system darkens his skin wonderfully. He yelps when Neil pulls his hair and sucks a dark bruise into his thigh in retaliation.
“He’s just embarrassed,” Neil teases. “Someone’s trying to impress you and is mad he got caught.”
“And how would you say he acts when I’m not here?”
”Absolutely feral.”
Kevin barely contains his flinch, and all at once, Andrew understands. He’s never considered how different their bedding dynamic might be when Andrew’s not present. A handful of memories surfaces — finding healing teeth marks behind Neil’s knee, on his back, his upper thigh. The image of Neil completely wrung dry after a particularly long feeding session and Kevin’s refusal to make eye contact. He’s always had his suspicions, but Neil’s confirmation makes things that much sweeter.
Andrew gives Neil one last squeeze, pulling his boxers off. Neil’s dick springs free, curving delicately over his stomach. The tip is flushed, weeping a sticky mess onto his stomach. Andrew indulgently smears the mess into the fine curls at the base of his cock, treating Neil to a few lazy tugs.
He spreads Neil’s thighs wider and settles beside Kevin, watching the slow way his throat flexes as he swallows. Andrew takes Neil in hand and guides the weeping head over Kevin’s mouth, his lips shining slick with precum. “Go ahead,” he says, goading. Andrew’s free hand wraps over Kevin’s shoulder and cups the bottom of his jaw, popping it open. “Impress me.”
Kevin gulps, staring at Andrew in lustful disbelief, only coming back to himself when Andrew taps the side of his jaw. “Clock’s ticking, Day. Don’t keep Neil waiting.” Kevin blanks, but one by one, the gears fall into place.
Neil stutters a little punched out gasp as Kevin licks him from base to tip, suckling at the head. Andrew feels the way his jaw stretches, can feel Neil through the skin of Kevin’s cheek when he squeezes the vampire’s face.
Andrew shifts, and lets go of Kevin’s jaw to twine Kevin’s long hair around his fist. He jerks Kevin forward, pulling him further down Neil’s cock.
Kevin chokes. Neil whimpers. Andrew has to wrangle the wolf inside him from doing anything stupid.
“Good.” Andrew drags his thumb between Neil’s balls, massaging them in his palm. “Check-in, junkie.”
“I-I’m good.” His breath hitches when Andrew presses Kevin’s face down further, making him gag. Neil curses and his hips jerk forward involuntarily. He grins, “Your genius knows no bounds.”
Andrew frowns. “If you still have energy for snark, then Kevin isn’t doing a good enough job.”
It’s a haphazard rhythm from there. Andrew controls the pace with ease. He jerks his hand in tandem with the bob of Kevin’s head, alternating between whispering condescension in Kevin’s ear and smattering explosions of bruises along Neil’s thigh. When he bores of that, Andrew sucks a purple bruise in the hollow of Kevin’s throat.
Piece by piece, bit by bit, he uses Kevin to take Neil apart. Spit dribbles down the corner of Kevin’s mouth as the slide grows wetter, slicker. The sound of the vampire's diligent slurping reverberates through the room and bounces loudly back into Andrew’s ears. He licks his lips and watches like a hawk for the telltale signs of Neil’s orgasm.
Tears slip down Kevin’s russet face as he unconsciously humps the mattress, in need of some sort of relief. It usually takes him longer to reach this point of desperation. Andrew observes, hungry. Enraptured. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he wants .
“Kevin, Andrew. Shit!” Neil’s hips thrash, chasing the edge of the cliff Andrew’s had him on for however long. “Yes, yes. Fuck, come on!” He babbles nonsensically, words slurring over each other so badly that it’s impossible to tell whether he’s talking to Andrew or Kevin. He’s so far gone that Andrew doubts Neil can really tell the difference.
“Listen to him,” he orders Kevin, teeth grazing the vampire’s jugular. He sucks on Kevin’s earlobe and bites down, earning a pained whine in response. He whispers, voice low. “You know what he wants, don’t you? You know what to do to get it.” Heat sparks in his gut, burning something fierce.
Neil’s hand stretches down to meet Andrew’s where it’s nested in Kevin's hair. Andrew hisses as he debases himself, pressing deep into the mattress. “You’ve got something to prove, right? Then prove it, Kevin. Make Neil come.”
With one final shove, Andrew loosens his grip on Kevin’s hair, leaving the responsibility to Neil. Instead, he focuses himself on dipping his fingers into the crevices and curves of Neil’s body. He hauls himself upward until he and Neil are eye-to-eye. Neil’s eyes shine, form wavering at the edges, mouth slack. “Yes or no, Neil?”
“Shit, ‘Drew, yes. Whatever it is, yes.”
Andrew surges forward and cuts himself on Neil’s teeth as they kiss. He grunts, Neil laving at his split lip and gripping tightly at the nape of Andrew’s neck. Neil’s mouth falls slack and Andrew just licks into it, taking and taking as Neil gives and gives. Neil trembles, so close to coming he can barely think straight. “Kevin’s working on autopilot. Do you usually fuck his mouth?”
Neil shudders, voice cracking. “Depends,” he stutters. “You know he likes his mouth full. Will swallow too when he’s in this state. Wasn’t kidding when I said he’s messy.”
Fuck, Andrew hopes so. “I want you to come soon. I know that’s not impossible for you, quickshot.”
“Fuck you.”
“Next time.” He manages to align his teeth with where Kevin had first punctured Neil’s neck. Neil’s wince proves the spot is still tender; the high-pitched moan confirms that he likes it. He noses up Neil’s jaw and gives the entry wounds one last lick.
Andrew sinks his teeth into Kevin’s bite at the same moment Neil tenses like a bowstring. Kevin’s muffled voice sounds from below him. Neil’s fingers tighten in Andrew’s hair as he mutters curse after curse. He comes apart in Andrew's arms.
Kevin pulls off of Neil with a slick sound, panting, flushed down to his chest, and visibly shaking as he sits up. Andrew can’t see Kevin’s hands, but he’s sure he’ll find tears in his sheets later.
Andrew crooks his finger. Kevin crawls up to rest on Neil’s other side. He twines his long fingers into Neil’s auburn curls, scratching in his scalp as the man comes down between them. Andrew grabs Kevin by the jaw, pressing his thumb to the man’s lip and supporting his chin as Kevin’s mouth falls open. He swallows when he sees Neil’s come there, as if Kevin knew Andrew would want to confirm.
Possessively, Andrew leans forward, mindful of Neil’s slack body. Kevin cranes his head back as far as Andrew pushes it. He’s pliant. Expectant.
He’s Neil’s.
He’s Andrew’s.
Andrew’s gut clenches. “I want to spit in your mouth.”
“Oh, god.” Kevin’s eyes widen as if he can’t believe the words. Andrew repeats himself, enunciating every word — partially to get through to Kevin, partially to watch him twitch. Kevin nods frantically, jaw clacking shut hard enough to make Andrew experience second hand ache. “Yes. Andrew- I- yes. Do it.”
He doesn’t waste any time. Andrew’s been withholding his urges for too long. He can indulge this once. He holds Kevin’s jaw open with a grip he knows will bruise. Those deep green eyes pierce something deep within him. Andrew lets the saliva pool onto his tongue and spits.
Kevin receives it perfectly. He closes his mouth and swallows, only opening it again to prove to Andrew he’s done so. Andrew’s grip tightens as he groans. Kevin smirks, eyes twinkling. “I would never presume,” he says, words rasping from his fucked raw throat, “But dare I say you’ve been impressed?”
Andrew shoves Kevin’s jaw away. “Even now you are painfully insufferable.”
”I, personally, feel super lucky,” Neil interjects. He’s glancing up at them, eyes hazy, kiss-swollen mouth in a disbelieving grin. “Kevin, you’ve never let me do that.”
He levels Neil with a flat look. “You and I do worse, I’d argue. You’re incredibly greedy.”
“I’m pragmatic. An opportunist, maybe. Sue me for liking a good time.”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “It’s incredible you can still talk.”
Neil grins, wild and open and all teeth. He props himself up on his elbows. “I bounce back fairly quickly.” He plants a kiss on Kevin's knee. Neil dances his fingers up the man’s inner thigh, skimming along the seam of Kevin’s slacks. “Speaking of which, how have we so poorly neglected our main course?”
Kevin scoffs and bares his fangs. His legs spread wider though, betraying his interests. “Only one of us is notoriously selfish,” he quips.
“Ha, ha.” Neil’s hand shimmies higher, glancing at Andrew in his peripheral vision. Andrew watches Kevin’s pupils dilate. “Where does Andrew fall then?”
That piques his interest. Kevin swallows and pouts when Andrew quirks his eyebrow at him. “Yes, Kevin. Do tell.”
“Can’t. I’d be using incomplete data. This is your first time here, and you're still learning.”
“I recall being told I am a fast learner,” Andrew counters. “This is no different then.”
Kevin primly flicks his fingers and repeats, “Incomplete data,” He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, never one to keep his mouth constantly empty. “There is still time to change that,” he hints. “But it depends.”
The banter that makes Andrew dizzy any other day slowly withers down his patience. Kevin’s blasé attitude only stokes the stupid, incessant hunger that’s threatening to overtake him at any time now. His underwear is starting to chafe from how embarrassingly hard he is, and Kevin must be worse off.
Andrew would know. He can taste Kevin’s desire from how thickly his neediness permeates the room.
His eyes flick to Neil. “Can you sit up, junkie, or should we call for a doctor?”
Neil beams. “Kevin’s got me for every drop, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“If I were asking about the sad state of your dick, I would’ve said that. Yes or no: can you sit?”
Neil barks out a laugh, and the glare he receives has no real heat behind it — not when Andrew has more important things in mind. Neil shuffles up the bed, leaning against the headboard for whatever support he’s missing. Andrew nods, then looks at Kevin. “I’m sure you don’t need this spelled out for you.”
“You're nothing if not predictable,” Kevin sets himself up to be devoured, lolling his head against Neil’s shoulder as he waits.
Andrew orders him to lose the pants — something he should’ve done way earlier. Neil pulls them flush together, white against brown where his hands sit on Kevin’s hips.
Kevin tries to cross his legs, but Andrew stops him with a hand on his knee. The muscles in his thighs jump as Andrew drags his hands up and down them. Kevin’s legs are miles long, strong, and lethal like every other part of his body is. He would’ve been a strong track runner in his life.
Alas, it seems Andrew will have to settle for holding those thighs down as far as they’ll go.
There are worse things he could settle for.
Kevin hisses at Andrew’s manhandling, but he doesn’t kick, which is both a blessing and a curse. He does complain, but that comes to a stop as soon as Andrew presses three fingers against the wet spot in his underwear.
Their vampire jumps, heartbeat rising to a rabbit’s pace. Neil holds Kevin carefully in place. He noses the base of Kevin’s throat, nipping at it with ill-conceived glee. “You’re twitchier than usual. Why’s that?”
Andrew tuts. “You know our vampire,” he drawls, voice barely above a whisper. “He’s prudish on the best of days.” Settling on his stomach, he slides a hand beneath Kevin’s knee and presses the leg into the air, relishing in the stretch of the muscle and the way Kevin whines.
Maybe counterintuitively, he takes his time sucking dark bruises into every inch of exposed inner thigh, methodical in his work. Andrew allows himself this indulgence, filling up on every whimper and sigh Kevin graces him with.
He presses cruel fingers into the darkening marks. Kevin’s wince urges him further, pulling on a need deep beneath his skin, head slowly fills with cotton. Andrew tries to stay present, but he’s unable to stop himself from sinking his teeth deep into Kevin’s thigh.
Above him, someone yelps, and he snaps back into clarity. Neil’s mouth is covered with red. The juncture of Kevin’s neck and shoulder has new bleeding marks that weren’t there before. Swallowing, Andrew tastes the tang of blood on his tongue. “You two are freaks.”
Neil grins. He smears blood on Kevin’s cheek. Andrew surprises himself by rising to lick it off. He blinks and has the unfortunate chance of making eye contact with an overly-smug Neil. “What was that about freaks?”
Any other time, Andrew would have something smart to say back, but he’s too busy licking Kevin’s face clean to even come up with something funny. He’ll deal with his ego death at a later date.
Kevin tugs him away, muttering, “Sensitive.” His neck is a pattern of purples. It’s addicting to know he could heal these quickly and chooses not to. He kisses Andrew, arms locked around his neck.
Andrew takes advantage of how tightly they’re pressed together to slip his hand into Kevin’s boxers and pinch his clit.
Kevin shudders, then freezes, muscles pulled taut, head bowed towards Andrew’s shoulder. He sighs wetly when Andrew slides fingers through his folds.
The room falls silent save for Kevin’s prayer-like panting and the wet slide of his pussy. Quieting Kevin is not a small feat. He’s whiny at the best of times, straight belligerent at worst. Kevin does everything loudly these days. It’s not even intentional most days, just a symptom of becoming better adjusted. A product of growing into his skin.
So it surprises him that Kevin can be this quiet with Andrew between his legs. He teases Kevin’s entrance and massages his clit — a ghosting of his fingers, and though he trembles, mouth falling open, Kevin only makes the quietest of mewls.
Andrew tries not to look so starstruck from witnessing such throes of pleasure. By the smug look he receives, Andrew knows he’s failed. He wills away the heat threatening to color his cheeks. “Is he always this…”
“Sensitive?” Neil offers, murmuring the word directly into Kevin’s ear. His mischievous hands scratch hard lines into his chest, eliciting a sharp hiss. Neil apologizes by rolling Kevin’s nipples through his fingers. “Pliant? Needy? I’m running out of words here, ‘Drew.”
Kevin chokes on a whine and scrambles for purchase, hands grabbing at Neil and Andrew in unison, unsure where to anchor himself to stop from floating away. His nails dig into Andrew’s shoulder while his other arm contorts to pull Neil impossibly closer. For all their teasing, Kevin’s been a good sport.
Eventually, Andrew musters up, “Demure.” He takes his free hand, presses his thumb against Kevin’s mouth. His lips part on instinct, and Andrew presses the pad of his thumb against one of his fangs. “Desperate.”
Kevin’s lips close around his thumb, suckling and mewling like a kit who’s been separated too early from its mother. Andrew takes his spit-slick thumb and rubs it all over Kevin’s bottom lip. His other hand presses a hesitant finger at his entrance. Kevin’s breath hitches in a whimper.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, is Kevin’s earlier statement. The easy giving of control. The blanket statement of “yes”, until it’s “no”. The things entrusted to Andrew live in a glass box on the highest shelf in the home of his mind, locked inside a safe with no key. He cherishes these allowances more than he cares for his own well-being.
Still, Andrew questions, “Is this okay?”
Kevin eagerly nods, head nearly knocking with Neil’s chin. “Yes,” he promises. Then, “Don’t make me beg.”
There’s something satisfactory in the way Kevin takes his fingers; something pleasing in the way it disarms. Andrew takes his time pressing two fingers inside him despite Kevin’s impatience. There’s little resistance, only the furrowing of Kevin’s brow and the slow, pleasured groan that falls from his mouth.
Like everything he does, pleasure is something Kevin takes with grace. Every feature of his face moves in harmony, like their sole purpose is to depict Kevin’s face in the highest form of ecstasy.
Andrew handles him with a care he’s harnessed in their couplings. He’s not gentle — nothing with Kevin ever is — but he is reverent. Thorough. Andrew crooks his fingers, the groan he drags out of Kevin strokes his too-big ego.
Back arching, throat bared, bronze skin sticky with sweat, Kevin could give the best Greek statues a run for their money. The urge to mark him – permanently mark him, to sink his teeth into the muscle of his shoulder and stay there until he’s sure it takes – surges through Andrew so violently it makes him shake. It's a bad idea. A terrible one. There’s numerous ways he could hurt Kevin; numerous ways Kevin could hurt him , should he give way to his basest of instincts.
It’s almost as if Kevin can sense his inner turmoil because he chooses the worst time to speak. “Another,” he sobs, always hungry. Always wanting. “Andrew- fuck , I can take more. Want more.”
He hums, a facsimile of disinterest, his restraint a fine line. “Please tell me you aren’t always this gluttonous.”
“Tell me you aren’t always a stingy lay.” Kevin’s claws dig into his shoulder, pulling the teeth from his insult. Andrew licks a trail up his throat, nipping at the underside of his jaw, and Kevin shudders. “S’not greed. Want you terribly. You want me to want you.”
“Wrong. You know I do not want.” The lie is glaring as soon as it slips from his teeth. He glares at Neil’s sharp laugh.
Kevin scoffs. “You’re impossible.”
The thing is, want is too cheap a word, too shallow an emotion for what Andrew feels. Too superficial. The depths to his desires are bottomless and never-ending. When Andrew wants something, it’s bone deep and ravenous. It’s not enough to just want. He needs. He craves.
These days, Andrew’s cravings always lead back to the men sitting before him.
His fingers press deeper still inside Kevin. Kevin clenches. “What do you want, leech? What do you claim to know about what I want?”
There’s a moment of hesitation, where Neil and Kevin lock eyes, tittering to themselves in French. They pin Andrew in place with twin stares, eyes hungry. For a second, he worries the two of them will ask to feed from him.
Sure as a saint, Kevin murmurs, “I want you to knot me.”
Everything in Andrew slows, becomes thick and syrupy. He’s aware of the rumbling building in his chest — a growl? Some sick purr? There’s no way to tell just yet. His head fills with cotton. Everything sounds like static from an old TV.
Kevin repeats himself as if Andrew didn’t hear him the first time, but of course he did. How couldn’t he? “You do not know what you’re asking for.”
“You’ve done it before with Neil. I’ve done my research. I know the risks.” Kevin’s legs spread wider, threatening to pull him in. He’s confident and completely unaware of how this request may lead to Andrew’s undoing.
His gut twists painfully around the words. A cage meant to stay closed has been unlocked. Andrew can feel his wolf inside him, begging for something wet and warm. “Then you know that it will be different from what I did with Neil. Harder. You will fight me, and you will lose.”
“I won’t fight you.”
“Your fragile bloodsucker body might not even be able to handle it.”
Kevin blushes. “I’ve been training.”
Andrew blinks and desperately considers the idea of this being a subconscious hormone-induced fantasy.
Andrew doesn’t use the K-word around Neil and Kevin because he knows how he — no, how his wolf gets. It’s the antithesis to Andrew’s hard-won control and compartmentalization.
They have a deal going on. Andrew stops taking those medications that fucked with his breeding periods, and his wolf stays locked away until called for. It worked for so long.
Andrew never considered for Kevin of all people to ask this from him. He turns the heat of his gaze to Neil. “You’ve poisoned his brain with your sick kinks.”
“I don’t think that corruption has been one-sided for any of us.” Neil’s eyes flicker from toffee brown, to emerald green, and back to sky blue. Scanning. Searching. “Oh, Drew,” he coos, condescension in his voice.
“Shut up, Abram.”
“You wanna mate Kevin so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Andrew grits his teeth. His dick throbs. “I said shut up.”
Andrew presses a third finger inside him. Kevin hisses, and he grinds the heel of his palm into Kevin’s clit in apology. His wrist starts to cramp, betraying him in a way nothing short of blasphemous. Andrew doubles down on his efforts.
It’s not long before the tell-tale signs appear. Kevin’s voice pitches, reedy and raw as he fucks down onto Andrew’s hand, chasing his release. “I’m- Andrew, I need to-I need it.”
He calls Andrew’s name like a mantra for salvation, brow creasing. A god calling for his believer. It stokes multiple flames unfurling in his gut, beneath his skin, behind his ribs.
Andrew, having graduated with a degree in Kevin’s body, presses hard against his clit. There’s a shudder, a prayer, and Kevin’s falling apart in waves.
Fucking Kevin has always been a privilege. As he comes, Andrew realizes it’s a sick addiction he’ll never be able to kick.
“Shit.” Neil’s eyes are glassy with desire. He reaches towards Andrew in question, and Andrew surges forward, licking into his mouth as Kevin convulses between them.
Quiet, tender panting fills the room. Kevin hisses as Andrew pulls his fingers from him, wet with come. Andrew brings them to Neil’s lips, who suckles obediently.
He’s so hard, a single breath on his dick might make him explode. He grunts and shifts back to stare at the mess of his two boys. “Was that to your satisfaction? Are we done rolling around my bed like sick, sweaty animals? Am I allowed to burn my sheets?”
Kevin’s touch to his knee sears through Andrew like a brand. He flinches.
Kevin appraises him, bashful. Shy.
“What?” Andrew says, eyebrow raised. Each breath he takes is measured. He tries to ignore the nimble fingers tracing patterns on his skin.
Dark red eyes peer up at him. A hand squeezes his knee. “You didn’t answer me earlier.”
His resolve. Andrew must remember his 10-foot high steel wall of resolve. “I made myself perfectly clear. Perhaps you didn’t hear me.”
“I did,” counters Kevin. “You told Neil to shut up.”
It’s so, so fortunate that Kevin is beautiful. Andrew has the urge to pray to gods he doesn’t believe in.
He places a placating hand on his cock. He catches how Kevin’s nostrils flare, how Neil pulls his lower lip between his teeth. It’s difficult not to preen beneath the attention. Andrew jerks himself steadily, thumbing the head on every downstroke. “Your ability to be dense is outstanding.” Andrew grunts, then hisses.
Kevin blinks. “Is that a hard no?”
“It’s a not today.”
There’s another flurry of French, and then suddenly Neil’s clearing his throat. “It doesn’t have to be exact, does it?”
Andrew stares at them in a heated, wordless question. Neil gathers Kevin’s long legs and hikes them to the side, gaze warm and inviting. With a smirk, Neil explains, “Kevin’s thighs are almost just as good.”
He inhales sharply, hand tightening around himself and pulling his boxers taut.
Andrew surprises himself with the growl rumbling through his chest. He’s even more shocked with the speed in which he readies himself, underwear tucked beneath his balls, cock aching as he ruts embarrassingly against Kevin’s smooth skin.
It’s rare for him to give leeway to his own desires like this. Andrew has a moral code only for himself, a strict set of rules to keep his primal nature at bay. He does not normally indulge so dangerously, not without taking proper precautions.
Obsessive as it sounds, he has separate protocols for how to treat Neil versus Kevin. Their needs, while similar, manifest differently. Neil needs less of a firm, guiding hand. An unspoken understanding sits between them. Most days, they don’t need to speak to get a point across. Many of their barbs are the same, and that’s vital to their dynamic. He knows what Neil’s tolerance is and trusts him to use his voice if Andrew ever goes too far. That’s why knotting him was not an issue when Neil mentioned satiating a sick curiosity.
Kevin, though. He would stay quiet through his cells atrophying if it meant his daily life stayed unchanged. He’s a spitfire with tenuous emotional standing. The Nest was not kind to him. They did not handle a soul as loving as Kevin Day with the care required, and the resulting issues is enough to keep a single therapist employed for years. Andrew clashes with Kevin more often than not. It’s a meticulous balance they manage with one another.
Andrew is still figuring out when to push and when to pull back. Kevin is still learning just how strong his spine can be when he tries. It would be wrong to put either of them through the knotting experience when they’re still adjusting to their vaguely codependent dance.
This compromise, Andrew believes, is the best either of them can do at this point in time.
Andrew rifles through his side table and throws the bottle of lube onto Kevin’s chest. For his credit, Kevin knows exactly what to do, slicking his thighs up in a perfunctory manner. He and Neil must do this often, then. Andrew’s gut swoops at the thought.
He guides himself between strong, toned muscles with a strangled huff. Andrew is careful as he hikes Kevin’s legs over his shoulder, hissing in relief at how they clamp around his cock. He leans forward just to see how easily Kevin bends in half. Kissing the vampire at this angle is easier than expected, and they meet in a mess of teeth and spit. It’s hard to stay present with the cotton filling his head. “If you need to stop, we will stop.”
Kevin blinks up at him, hazy with lust. He says, “I know,” with such certainty that Andrew has no other choice but to believe him.
The tight, wet heat of Kevin’s thighs sends him for a spin. Andrew groans, rasping as he tests his limits. It’s a miracle he doesn’t come on the spot. He scoots his hips forward, grits his teeth, and slackens his metaphorical leash. Only then is he overwhelmed with the insatiable need to claim, to mate, to breed.
It doesn’t take long for Andrew to peak. He sets a brutal pace for himself, thrusting with abandon as his cock swells. Kevin’s tiny, punched out moans punctuate the surge of his hips, the slapping of skin against skin lewd. Neil’s unabashed staring is hungry, hot, prickling. Andrew closes his eyes and fucks faster.
His orgasm hits him like a truck going at full speed. He barely has time to give warning before his hips stutter forward in short, aborted thrusts. Andrew is quiet even in this, squeezing the feeling between his teeth to remember for days after. His body shakes, whether from the force of his orgasm or the will it takes to stay human, he’s unsure. As he reaches the height of it, Andrew thinks of nothing at all.
It’s a few moments before the pistons of his brain start working again. He groans and presses his forehead to Kevin’s calves. Neil and Kevin whisper in an effort to be considerate, and Andrew is grateful. He blinks blearily, pushing past the ringing in his ears to look at the damage, and his mouth goes dry on impact.
Kevin’s chest is covered in Andrew. Come pools in the dips of his sternum, collarbone, and throat. Neil, playful as always, smears it around with a finger. Kevin’s mouth parts easily when that finger meets his lips. Then Neil kisses him. Andrew curses at the sight, chest heaving. “I’ve never met two people as shameless as you are.”
Both men have the decency to blush. He watches them eat each other for as long as he can allow, before the cool air catches up with him. The moment lasts as long as it takes for Kevin to complain about the cooling come on his chest.
Andrew clambers to his feet on shaky legs and heads to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of sweatpants on his way there. He cleans himself methodically, examining the bites on his shoulders and unable to place exactly when he got them.
He returns to his room with a wet cloth. Andrew hands it to Neil, who busies himself with cleaning up Kevin while Andrew gathers their soiled clothing and places it into a hamper. He lounges at the end of the bed and does what he does best: he observes.
Kevin lies bare to the elements, Neil hovering over him with a teasing tone to his voice. They move in sync with the choreography of a dance Andrew is still unfamiliar with. Neil snarks, Kevin huffs. Neil teases, Kevin gives it back twice as hard. Kevin flinches at a particularly tender spot, and Neil softens his touch as he thoroughly cleans the sweat and spit from Kevin’s body.
Andrew spots the darkening of bruises on Kevin’s legs and subconsciously realizes they’re his fault. His wolf gives a satisfied huff and curls back up behind its restraints.
The trio moves around each other; sated, subdued. Neil and Kevin eventually leave to find normal food. Andrew launders his sheets and airs out his room before rejoining the two downstairs. They sit on the couch, draped around one another, talking about something Andrew has no interest in.
He pauses on his way to the kitchen to pinch Kevin’s cheek. It floods with a ferocious red, and satisfaction once again curls in his gut.
Another successful night of keeping his boys well-cared for.