Tamed with the Belt

Expanded summary: Newly-turned twenty-something werewolf Colt is a huge pain in the ass, constantly antagonizing his alpha, Liam. Alistair, Liam's husband, is frankly getting a little sick and tired of Colt's shit, so he makes a suggestion: Liam should beat the kid's ass like he's clearly begging for and maybe bend him over a desk or something and rail him until he stops being a brat. This turns out to be a great idea that works perfectly, because Alistair is a genius.

Content notes: BDSM × Sadism × Masochism × Impact Play × Belting × Age Difference × Voyeurism × Sexual Inexperience × Dominant Trans Male Character × Older Man/Younger Man × Established Relationship × Anal Sex × Grinding × Frottage × Masturbation × Oral Sex × Brat-Taming × Biting × Sex Toys × Praise Kink × Threesome - M/M/M × Crying During Sex

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It's honestly comical, how bad the boy wants to get hit. Alistair watches in genuine fascination as Colt snarls like a puppy, all noise and not much behind it, sees the flicker of exasperation that crosses Liam's face. Watches dear, sweet, responsible Liam take a deep breath and pack all that away and say, with infinite patience,

"Hey. Your behavior today was unacceptable. Calm down. If you're going to be a part of this pack, I need you to behave like an adult. Are we clear?"

"Make me," Colt snaps, which is egregiously horny, and crowds up into Liam's space like a challenge.

Colt is taller than Liam and uses the height to look down at him, trying to intimidate with his rangy runner's muscle like he thinks that's going to get him anywhere but laughed at. Liam's alpha for a reason. He's only five and a half feet tall, but he's burly, solid, fighter-trained, has been dealing with cis men trying to bully him since he was a stubborn hellion of a trans teen. He's probably got twenty pounds on Colt despite the height difference, and beyond all that, he's the alpha. He's been alpha for ten years of full moons, and their pack is strong. Other alphas nod in respect when Liam walks by. He's stronger than any new-turned puppy could hope to be and he knows it.

Alistair notes Liam's posture change as he takes the challenge in, shoulders squaring, head lowering. His scent changes, growing stronger and thicker, pushing out pheromones that mean submit, or else. Colt doesn't back down. Tension crackles, and it's going to be a fight in a moment. That's going to break bad.

"Alpha," Alistair drawls, from where he's sprawled out across the sofa, and Liam's attention shifts, caught. "A suggestion?"

"Yes, my love?" Liam asks. His tone is rock-steady in the way that means he's on his way to getting real annoyed, but softens around the shape of my love, gentling. He's distracted from Colt for a moment, and Colt's mouth twists. He's staring daggers at Alistair. Ridiculous boy.

"Put the boy over your knee like he's been begging for since he first walked in and put us all out of our misery."

Liam bursts into laughter, but Alistair hears his heartbeat pick up and his pheromones shift off aggression to something warmer.

Colt, on the other hand, goes a vivid shade of red heretofore unseen in the wild, his heartbeat spiking audibly and his scent reeking of anger and embarrassment and, hilariously, arousal. He throws himself backward from Liam so hard he almost trips over the coffee table, stumbling back into the wall with his arms folded.

"Shut your fucking - shut up," Colt snaps, his voice embarrassingly high. "You don't know anything."

Alistair blows him a kiss that makes Colt snap for real this time, wolf-sharp teeth clacking like an angry dog's.

Liam says, in a considering sort of way, "I don't think I like you speaking to my mate like that, whelp."

The whelp is deliberate, the consonants hitting sharply, and Alistair can practically read Liam's mind as they both watch Colt's eyelids flutter a little, the heave of his chest. His pulse races in his throat like a rabbit's. Liam steps towards him, crowding the boy into the wall, staring into his eyes with a hard, even stare. Alistair waits for Colt's gaze to drop, submissive, but it doesn't, though he twitches, clearly fighting the wolf-instinct to bare his throat to the alpha. Huh. Stubborn.

"You want me to punish you?" Liam asks. His voice has gone dead even, low and velvet and dangerous, the tone that Alistair's still not immune to after eight years of marriage and ten years of fucking on every surface at every opportunity. This twenty-two-year-old artifice of fragile masculinity doesn't even have a defense, and he makes a little raw sound, swallows, tilts his chin up.

"I'm a grown fucking adult," Colt rasps. "You can't punish me."

"Puppy," Liam says, almost fond. "If I wanted to bend you over the table and belt you, you couldn't stop me. I'm stronger than you even without the wolf, and I've been alpha for a decade."

Colt inhales hard, his jaw squaring. Alistair watches in fascination as the muscles of his stomach heave in a convulsive movement. The boy is offensively toned.

"I'd love to see it, personally," Alistair volunteers.

"Oh, hush, you," Liam says, definitely fond now, and Alistair settles back into the leather sofa and the smug knowledge that he's Liam's favorite. "Deep breaths, puppy, stop panicking. I only hit wolves who ask for it."

"Fuck you."

"With their words, Colt. Go on. Ask me to belt you."

Colt says nothing, his jaw working, his whole body trembling. His lips part like he's going to say something, and then shut tight. Liam leans back a bit, giving him some space, and Alistair tips his head to watch Colt shiver under Liam's look. He looks furious, but he's so turned on he's filling the room with the reek of arousal. It's heady, almost intoxicating. Ah, to be twenty-two and earth-shatteringly repressed.

"I mean, if you don't want him, kid, I'll have him," Alistair says, in an act of mercy, and Liam looks at him. His face is a question, and Alistair smiles an answer, tipping his chin back. He's not too proud to bare his throat for his alpha.

Liam leaves Colt behind like he's meaningless, padding over to Alistair with wolf-eyes shining, and Alistair reaches up for him as he bends down, turns his head to let Liam sink gentle teeth into his throat. It hurts so good he can't help but groan, the purr of instinct in his hindbrain telling him he's owned, that Liam could rip his throat out and is choosing not to. It's a comforting heat, making his mind go blissfully still.

Colt is still pressed back into the wall like Liam's there to push him, immobilized by the weight of Liam's presence, staring at them. Alistair smiles, insouciant, back at that rawboned, hungry boy, and doesn't look away.

Liam's rougher than normal, his broad fingers twisting into Alistair's long hair to pull his head back further, his claws digging into Alistair's scalp, his body heavy and soft as he straddles Alistair's hips. He smells good, god, like power and desire and heavy wolf-musk, and the surge of helpless arousal is almost Pavlovian at this point. For a moment, he forgets the point of the exercise, just gasps, shutting his eyes and rolling his hips up to grind his dick into Liam's thigh.

Then he hears a cracked little sound and his eyes open again. Colt has his hand tight over his mouth like he's trying to prevent another sound from getting out. He drags the hand down from his mouth, over his chin, down his throat to fist in the collar of his own shirt. The boy smells wrecked with wanting, his human-shift on the brink of breaking, and nobody's even touched him yet. Okay. Yeah, Alistair could be into that.

"Can't help but notice you're not offering to belt him," Colt says, rough and jagged.

Liam releases his bite on Alistair's throat, and Alistair protests with a whine. Liam quiets him with a rumble so low it goes all the way downstairs and sticks in Alistair's gut, silencing him.

"That's because Alistair's my good boy," Liam says. He's rougher-voiced now, too. Still not immune to Alistair either, and both of them hyper-aware of Colt's presence. No matter how many times he says it, good boy always hits Alistair like nothing else will, and Liam knows it, casually dragging claws along the line of Alistair's jaw, pressing down into him with his full weight. If Colt's not going to take Liam up on his offer, Alistair's about ready to beg to take his place. "I save that for brats."

Colt scoffs, swallows. "Who are you fucking calling a brat?"

There's a horribly vulnerable edge to the question, one sharp enough to cut yourself on. God, Alistair doesn't miss being twenty-two.

Liam laughs, low, half a growl. Alistair slides his hand up Liam's shirt to feel the sound rumble in his chest, and Colt's eyes drop to the thick hairy curve of Liam's stomach where Alistair's rucked his shirt up. His lips part, his pink little tongue darting out.

"Aren't you?"

"Maybe," Colt says, defensively.

"You know what I think?" Alistair interjects, lazily tracing patterns over Liam's chest with his claws.

"I don't care," Colt snaps, but Liam's warning growl settles him, makes him wait for Alistair to finish. Alistair continues like there was never any interruption.

"I think you want him to pin you down and make you submit. You want him to hurt you until you roll over for him like a good boy, and then you want him to bend you over and fuck you whether you like it or not. That about sum it up?"

Colt opens his mouth, furious - and then closes it. Looks away. It's a startling, drastic admission of defeat.

"Careful, Alistair," Liam murmurs.

"You're a fool, though," Alistair says, rather more gently. "Because he's not going to do anything like that unless you ask him to. Kid. Come on. If he was the kind of alpha who did that sort of thing, he wouldn't be the kind you'd want to fuck."

Colt's shoulders bow in.

"I'll do all that to you if you want," Liam says. His hand circles around Alistair's throat, his thumb running along the line of his jugular, claw delicately tracing it. Alistair goes loose under his hands, submitting effortlessly. Putting on a show of what Colt should be doing. "I'd love to. You're a pretty boy and I think you'd be very good for me. But you have to ask. Are you asking?"

"Yes," Colt says, very quietly, and Liam says,

"Alright then."

He gets up, sliding out of Alistair's hands and stalking over to Colt, and Colt leans toward him like he's the sun, cracked open and yearning. His scent has turned all submission and wanting, opening himself up, but he's still tensed for a fight. Poor pup is all kinds of twisted up inside. Liam fists his hands in Colt's shitty white t-shirt and slams him up into the wall, lifting him off his feet and knocking the breath out of him as a moan as Liam crashes a kiss into his mouth

Colt presses his hands against Liam's chest and lets himself be kissed, knees bowing in, and Liam gets a hand on his scruff and another in his shirtfront and shoves him down to his knees. The pressure on his nape and the force of Liam's pheromones makes Colt's knees buckle without effort, a trick which Alistair has been on the receiving end of many times. It's devastatingly hot, makes it hard to think of anything but alpha.

Colt's moaning into Liam's mouth, his back and shoulders tensing and rolling as he tries to push up against Liam's hand, tries to rise from his kneel, and isn't allowed.

He's powerless, immobile, and Alistair feels a pleasant heat at the nostalgia of being young and feral and caught.

Liam pulls back and Colt, eyes shut tight, tries to follow, chasing the kiss. His vicious little mouth is red and wet, and Liam idly slides his thumb into his mouth, gripping his jaw tight. Liam's expression is intent in the way he gets when he's gone fully alpha about something, usually sex, watching those lips around his finger. Then Colt's jaw shifts and Liam hisses, wincing.

"You really are asking for it, aren't you?" Liam murmurs, almost to himself, and slaps Colt hard across the face.

Colt gasps, rocking backwards, and Liam pulls his thumb from Colt's lips with a pop. He's bleeding, just a little, though the injury heals over in a moment.

"Did he bite you?" Alistair asks, amused. "You might have to revoke his cocksucking privileges. Good lord. He's completely feral."

"He's not feral, just badly behaved," Liam says, and puts his thumb into his own mouth to lick the blood clean. Colt's eyes drag up his arm to watch him, and he licks his lips, his teeth a little blood-tinged. "Alright then, you'll get what you want. Shirt off or I'll tear it off."

Colt's hands rise like he's going to pull his shirt off, but then he hesitates. Leans back on his hands and glowers like it means anything other than please, sir, fuck me rougher. Liam's mouth crooks up at the corner, and Alistair trades an amused look with him over Colt's head. Very stubborn, especially for a boy who smells like he's about to come in his pants.

"Suit yourself," Liam says, casually.

He grabs the collar with both hands and tears. The cheap Walmart polyester shreds easily under his claws, shocking a gasp out of as his chest is exposed, shreds of his shirt hanging off his shoulders.

They both pause to admire him, pretty, lithe thing that he is. His jeans are low-cut enough to show off the way his hipbones curve down into them, the scattering of hair down his stomach, and there's livid red lines on his chest where Liam's claws caught him. He raises his hands defensively, as if to cover his chest, but Liam catches his wrists, holds them easily over his head to force him to show off.

"Pretty boy," Liam purrs at him, and he flushes to the tips of his ears, turns his face away.

"Quit fucking saying that. I'm not pretty," Colt says, and Liam and Alistair both laugh.

"Puppy, you're ridiculously pretty," Alistair informs him. "And I'm not even the one who's about to fuck you."

Liam shifts his hands so he's holding Colt's wrists with one hand, grabs his jaw with the other to force it up to look at him. "You think that's up to you to decide? You're a very pretty boy. Don't argue with me, whelp. I'd hate to gag that beautiful mouth."

"Oh," Colt says, muffled by the grip on his jaw. His voice shakes a little, soft and uncertain. His heartbeat is pounding and god, he smells needy. Liam bends down to kiss his fierce mouth.

"Alright. I'm going to bend you over the bar now. Work with me or I'll make it hurt worse. Unless you want to back out?"

"'M not backing out," Colt mumbles, and Liam lets his jaw go.

"Good. You going to cooperate?"

"Fuck you."

"God, you're such a brat," Liam says, very approvingly, and it turns out Colt's blush travels down his chest, flushes his pale skin pink and pretty.

Liam squats down, gets his shoulder under Colt, and tosses him easily over his broad shoulder to carry him away. It's very hot, but it does mean Alistair has to get off the couch if he wants to continue watching.

He considers the pros and cons, idly. The sofa is very comfortable, and it's not like he hasn't seen Liam fuck beautiful men before. On the other hand, who is Alistair to waste a chance to watch Liam tame a truly incorrigible brat? And he's never seen Liam fuck this twink before. And Alistair's hard already, hot and bothered by Liam's teasing and Colt's sulky, reluctant desire. He listens to the shift of them in the other room, their movements and their breathing, sniffs delicately at their lingering pheromones.

"Ughhhh," he complains to the empty room, and gets up to follow them through the low stucco archway into the bar room just as he hears the thud of Colt being slammed down onto the bar.

He walks a little faster, ducks through in time to see Colt gasping and reeling, on his stomach on the granite countertop, with Liam's hand in his hair, shoving his face down hard. Liam casually tears away the rest of that god-awful shirt, tosses it into the trash so Colt's naked from the waist up, goosebumps rising on his pale, gorgeous skin from the cool stone.

"Alistair," Liam says, pleasantly. "Do you mind taking my belt off for me? I've got my hands full with the boy."

"Not at all," Alistair says. Clearly this was the right decision after all. He drapes himself over the curve of Liam's back, admiring the way his muscles flex as he holds Colt down even as he tries to squirm and kick. He also grabs a handful of Liam's ass while he's at it, making Liam twitch and laugh.

"My belt, you terror."

"Oops," Alistair says, unrepentant, and wraps his arms around Liam's waist to unbuckle his belt, grinding his hips shamelessly into Liam's ass as he does so. The buckle is simple, and Alistair's taken this particular belt off many times during the past ten years. It's quick work to undo it and slide it out through the loops, handing Liam the doubled-over strip of leather.

"Thank you, beloved," Liam says, and pins Colt with one hand, straddling his hips to shove him up against the bar. Alistair indulges in a moment of dreamy remembrance about all the times he's been thrown over that counter and fucked within an inch of his life by Liam. He'd almost be jealous if he wasn't married to the man. "Hold him down for me, will you? I want to be able to really hit him."

"Yes, sir," Alistair drawls, and circles the bar to the other side. Alistair's more of a luxury experience than a hardy one, and certainly doesn't have Liam's born-wolf, alpha strength, but he's got a decade of full moons on this new-turned twink. He'll be able to hold him.

Alistair pins Colt's biceps down to the counter with an iron grip, spreading him out for Liam to whip, and Colt snarls at him, trying to snap. As punishment, Alistair digs his claws in until Colt yelps.

"If you want Liam to fuck your mouth instead of put you in a muzzle, you'll want to break that habit quick," he informs the pup. "And keep your mouth shut while he's beating you, you don't want to bite your tongue."

Colt pauses at that, his face furrowing in thought.

"Good puppy, use your brain, I know it must be difficult for you."

"Fuck you," he mutters, sullenly.

"What's that attitude I hear you taking with my husband, little wolf?" Liam asks, mildly.

Alistair grins at him over Colt's head. "He's trying to bite me. The nerve. Only one man bites me." And okay, yes, Colt was mostly biting at him with no real intention to harm, but it's the spirit of the thing.

"Hm," Liam says, and hums, low in his throat. "Seems like he's really determined to earn a beating."

The belt cracks in the air, and Alistair sees Colt's full-body flinch as he braces himself.

Liam runs the leather gently up Colt's back. His voice is softer, warm and amused. Leaving the play for a moment, reminding Colt it is a game. "Relax, sweetheart. You'll be alright. There's nothing I can do to you with this that you won't heal in five minutes."

Colt takes a deep, shaky breath, and Alistair watches pityingly as he absolutely fails to relax. God. He's very new to all of this, isn't he?

He flicks his gaze up to meet Liam's eyes, raises his eyebrows to express concern. Liam smiles at him, amused.

Alright, fair, Liam knows what he's doing. He's not exactly going to beat the kid the way he would Alistair, a shameless masochist with a laissez-faire attitude towards any damage short of death. No use pushing it with a wolf so new-turned he flinches at a bruise.

"You can still back out," Liam says, measured.

"Fucking hit me," Colt grits out, and so Liam does, cracking the belt across his upper back.

Colt arches, gasps, his soft mouth falling open, his eyes flashing wolf-gold with shock, and Alistair feels a distinct surge of something like fondness. The wretched boy is made to be hit.

"How's that treating you?" Liam asks.

"Again," Colt demands. "Harder. Please."

Liam smiles with unabashed delight at the back of Colt's head. Alistair leans forward so Colt can't see as he mouths adorable.

"Well, boy, remember you asked for this," Liam says, ominously, and sets about beating the shit out of the kid.

The wide, heavy, doubled-over leather of the belt makes a dramatic cracking sound whenever it hits Colt's skin, the impact thudding into his shoulders until he's not even struggling against Alistair, just melted into the counter top, gasping and panting and making little noises like he's going to sob. His spine keeps arching oddly like he's trying to shift, get away from the hurt, and then the next hit drives him back into human bones. It's cute.

His face ends up pressed into Alistair's thigh, open mouth hot and wet against the fabric of his jeans as he makes those wrecked little sounds, and Alistair's so hard it's uncomfortable.

Ah, the perils of vanity. Sure, tight pants make his ass look great, but God, at what cost?

He could unbutton them of course, relieve some tension, but that's a little too close to Colt's face, and as much as he wants his dick in this kid's fucking throat - the whelp's mostly here for Liam. No use scaring him off.

"I'm going to take your pants off so I can beat your ass," Liam announces, and Colt tenses hard. Alistair is alert immediately, monitoring his heartbeat, his scent. Not scared, exactly. Well, some fear, maybe. Mostly he smells like intense embarrassment. "No? Pants stay on?"

"I," Colt says, rough little gasps. "I, um."

"Hey," Liam says, gentler, and starts to run his hands over the rapidly-healing welts on Colt's shoulders, in smooth, long strokes. "Kid. You with us?"

"Yeah," Colt says, and rubs his cheek into Alistair's thigh, seeming almost unaware he's doing it. That's so precious. It's also setting up some alarming odds for the longevity of Alistair's blood-deprived cock.

"You done for now?"

Colt shakes himself, rolls his shoulders, the muscles of his back rippling under his skin. Alistair and Liam both pause to admire. "No," he says. "No, I want more."

"But keep your pants on?" Liam clarifies.

"No," Colt says, and tries to pull his arms away from Alistair like he'll take them down himself, his hips wriggling appealingly. Liam steps up to grind against his ass, thrust against him, knock him into the counter, and Colt moans. "T-take them off."

So Liam reaches down and does some stuff with his hands that Alistair can't see but can hazard a guess at from the way Colt bucks a little and groans, and then he pulls down Colt's jeans.

"Going commando, hm? Someone's eager," Liam says, and looks appreciatively down at the curve of Colt's pale ass. Then his expression changes. He's suddenly very intent, serious and hot, and he runs his hand over Colt's ass, dips lower. He does something with his hands, and Colt makes a little strangled noise, hides his face in Alistair's thigh again.

"You come prepared, my wolf?" Liam rumbles at him, and his voice is so hot and dark it sends a shiver down Alistair's spine. It makes the hair on the back of Colt's neck visibly prickle, which is cute. Alistair strokes a finger across the fuzz, smoothing it down, as Liam does whatever he did again, and Colt moans. "You were ready for me?"

Eaten alive with curiosity, Alistair leans forward over the counter and finds that there is a little shiny steel ring sticking out of Colt's ass, and that's what Liam is playing with. The idiot kid came to pick a fight with his alpha with a plug in. Hot. Also extremely funny.

"I have to admire the optimism," Alistair says, and Colt grits out.

"Wasn't planning on this."

"No?" Liam asks, and tugs on the ring again, teasing the plug partly out of him and then pressing it back in. "You weren't hoping I'd pin you down and take this out of your ass and fuck you myself?"

"Fuck," Colt gasps, and his biceps flex under Alistair's hands. "Didn't think you would."

Liam's still toying with the plug, making Colt shudder. "Good news, puppy, you'll get your wish. I'll beat your ass another time."

"Another time," Colt says, almost protesting.

Liam laughs at him, dragging his clawed fingers down the line of Colt's back. "Oh, I'm sorry, you don't want to be fucked?"

There's a pause as Colt turns that over in his dense little skull.

"Kid," Alistair says, pleasantly. "He's offering to fuck you now and then beat your ass on a separate occasion. A real two for one deal. If you want your alpha's cock in your ass, this is your best offer."

Colt tips his chin back to fix Alistair with a glare, twisting to look at Liam.

"I'll hold you to that," he says, like a threat. Liam slaps his ass with the belt once to make him jump and chuckles at him.

"Alright, you do that, then. Alistair, would you mind getting my cock from the bedroom?"

"Hmm," Alistair muses. "You've got a few. How much do you think he can take?"

"I can take anything you give me," Colt says, brashly, which is very ambitious and very stupid of him. Alistair's experienced some of Liam's cocks. They're not for the faint of heart or ass.

"I'll make sure you prove it," Alistair tells him, and Colt looks somewhere between defiant and terrified.

Alistair relinquishes the boy back to Liam's capable hands and goes to get one of Liam's dicks out of the old gun case where he keeps them, because he's absurd. It's a good bit, Alistair admits, silently, but he's spent ten years complaining about it and he refuses to lose the argument now.

He undoes the clasps of the rugged black gun case and stares down at the selection of cocks nestled in the foam. His hand hovers over the slender nondescript cock that Liam tends to use for first timers, but that's maybe a little too easy for a boy who walked into the alpha's house with a metal plug up his ass. The giant monster cock Liam uses on Alistair when he wants to get really worked over might be a little much.

He'll be nice.

Alistair picks up the cock that feels most like Liam, the one Liam goes to most often when he's picking one out for himself. It's the most realistic of the dicks that Liam has in his repertoire, one of Alistair's favorites to get fucked with when really likes to feel like Liam is pinning him down and fucking him for his own pleasure. It's on the larger side, just big enough to feel massive inside him without actually being large enough to prevent Liam from fucking him rough and hard.

Liam's apparently started taking the boy apart without even waiting for Alistair to get back, since he can hear the moaning halfway down the hallway before he even gets there. He walks in to find Liam draped over the kid again, fucking Colt with his fingers and playing with his dick. He's pulled the plug out - it's sitting on the counter next to the bottle of lube they usually keep under the bar.

Colt's an absolute mess, sweaty and moaning and rocking back into Liam's hands, pliant and loose underneath him. Alistair meets Liam's dark eyes and feels another twinge of heat. If there's one thing Liam does better than anyone, it's take a boy in hand. Alistair takes the opportunity to give Liam the cock he picked, and Liam looks it over appreciatively.

"That's a good choice," he says, and Alistair can't help but preen under the praise. For all the shit he gives his alpha, it feels good when he's able to please him.

Colt tries to look at the cock Alistair's picked, but Liam blocks him. Let it be a surprise.

Alistair takes the opportunity to admire Colt's ass from a different angle as Liam fingers him, slow and thorough and wet. There's a drop of lube running down the inside of the kid's thigh, Liam's prepped him so much, and Colt squirms as though he can tell Alistair's staring, moaning loud and wrecked every time Liam crooks his fingers.

When Alistair's eyes drag back up to meet Liam's, he's smiling in a way that's almost predatory. He reaches out with the hand that isn't occupied to palm at Alistair's dick through his jeans, pressure that hurts and soothes at the same time.

"Colt, I've got a proposition for you," Liam says, leisurely, and Colt moans something that's a bit questioning. "You've been very rude to my mate today, and I think you ought to make it up to him. So you're going to suck his dick while I fuck you. Thoughts?"

Alistair raises his eyebrows at Liam, skeptically. That's really pushing it with what the kid's going to allow.

"Please," Colt says, wrecked. "Please, yes."

... Unexpected. Hot, but unexpected. "I don't know if I want my dick near those teeth," Alistair lies, circling the counter.

"I won't - I'll be good," Colt begs, and moans as Liam's fingers move. "I want it, please."

"Well, if you insist," Alistair says, and unbuttons his jeans with undignified speed.

God, those pretty lips parted to beg, the tears starting in the corners of Colt's eyes. He's a mess, and Alistair helpfully messes him up worse by shoving his claws into the pup's hair, making a fist in that shaggy, overgrown excuse for a crew cut and tugging his head back, digging his claws into Colt's scalp until he sucks in a sharp inhale.

His eyes shut, eyelashes damp and fluttering, and his mouth falls open and his pink tongue slips out between his lips and he's making the most beautiful little sounds. Alistair has to shut his eyes for a minute, too turned on to think, before he can finally get his dick out. Colt stretches toward it immediately, mouth open, and so Alistair gives him what he wants.

Colt moans at the same time Alistair does as his dick slides into Colt's hot mouth, and then Colt moans again, louder, as Liam starts to push into his ass, slow and patient. It rapidly becomes apparent that Colt has at least sucked dick before, his tongue working with an enthusiasm and skill that makes Alistair brace himself on the counter, pull Colt's hair and say, breathlessly, "Oh, good boy."

"Good boy," Liam agrees, and Colt's throat works in a visceral little sound like a sob as he tries to choke himself on Alistair's dick, overeager. He coughs, swallowing around Alistair's cock, and there's definitely tears now, messy and involuntary. He looks nothing like the feral, angry boy of an hour or two ago. Colt's eyes open, looking up at Alistair through his eyelashes, and then he just fucking goes for it, swallowing Alistair's cock down his throat, and Alistair's mind stalls a little, blanking out at the visual and the heat and the tight wetness of it.

Liam wolf-whistles appreciatively, thrusting shallowly into Colt so that Colt moans, muffled and gagged, his throat tightening around Alistair's dick, his hands compulsively coming up to grab onto Alistair's forearms.

He pulls off after a truly remarkable amount of time, Alistair's dick sliding out of his mouth with an audible little pop, and pants raggedly, grinning a little to himself.

Alistair says, "Fuck, kid, who taught you that?" and sounds much more impressed than he'd meant to.

Colt shrugs, laughing a breathless, exultant little laugh and then his eyes squeeze shut, his whole body rocking forward, as Liam decides to actually start railing the boy.

The noises punched out of his throat are a thing of beauty. He sounds almost shocked, as though he wasn't expecting it to feel so good, and it takes him a long moment to remember he's supposed to be sucking Alistair's dick and take it back into his mouth. Liam is fucking him too hard for him to focus, though. Every ounce of skill has evaporated, replaced with his slack, hot wet mouth, his tongue lapping messily as Liam's thrusts drive him forward onto Alistair's dick, making him choke and cough.

Liam's eyes meet Alistair's over Colt's back, hot and dark, and the surge of heat at the thought that his alpha is using him to fuck this boy's throat means Alistair has to suck in a ragged breath and focus hard on the wood paneling over the door so he doesn't come immediately.

"Keep that up and I'm going to come in your mouth," Alistair warns, breathlessly, and Colt moans, his tongue rubbing hard over the underside of the head of Alistair's dick like he wants to wring it out of him.

Well, alright, he warned the kid. He pulls Colt's hair hard and swears breathlessly as Colt pulls an orgasm from him with his tongue.

As he starts to come, Colt pushes forward, slides Alistair's dick down his throat again, his throat working as he swallows.

He has to admire the kid's enthusiasm. Frankly, as much as Alistair loves sucking Liam's dick, one of his favorite things about it is never having to swallow again. Gross.

Colt seems devoutly pleased though, even as Alistair's spent dick slides out of his mouth and he coughs, groaning. Liam's pace quickens, pounding Colt into the counter, and Alistair relaxes his grip in Colt's hair to pet his head instead, like the good puppy he is. He lets Colt cling desperately to his thigh and his forearm as he takes it, eyes going distant.

Liam bends closer over Colt's back and wraps a thick arm around his waist, taking Colt's cock in hand. The sounds increase in pitch and tempo until Colt shudders and arches his back, going rigid as he comes. Liam fucks him through it, breath punching harshly out of him as he drives Colt limp and boneless. He only stops when Colt's sprawled across the counter, trembling.

Then he pulls out, carefully controlled even as Colt whimpers at the loss.

"Alistair," Liam says, a little tightly.

Alistair goes to him immediately, dropping to his knees as Liam fumbles to unbuckle the strap, shoving his pants down far enough so Alistair can get his mouth on Liam's cock. Liam's hands cup the back of Alistair's head to drag him in harder, and he's wet as hell, grinding hard into Alistair's mouth without letting him catch a breath. His voice punches out of him in bursts of guttural noise as Alistair sucks him off.

Alistair has a lot of experience with Liam's dick, and is very fond of it. It doesn't take long before Liam's body tenses, the sheer coiled strength of it holding Alistair pinned and airless as Alistair licks Liam through his orgasm.

"Good boy," Liam purrs at him, rough and low.

Alistair sucks in a deep breath as Liam finally releases him, sitting back on his heels. He's dizzy with lust.

"Hh," Colt says, and Alistair turns to see that he's rolled over to look at them, beautiful and naked and a complete mess. His eyes are half-shut, and he looks the absolute image of well-used. He presses his thighs together and shifts, clearly feeling the ache of being fucked, and if Alistair hadn't just come, his dick would be very interested.

"Next time I'm going to fuck your ass," Alistair informs him, without thinking about it. Liam rumbles approving assent.

"Next time," Colt mumbles, and lays back on the bar, shutting his eyes like he intends to go to sleep right there on the granite.

"Come on, puppy, cleanup," Liam says, and picks Colt up again. He doesn't resist, had all the bite fucked out of him. He nuzzles blindly, burying his nose into Liam's chest to pick up his comforting scent. It's cute. "I'm going to shower with him, help him come down a bit. You interested, Alistair?"

Alistair surveys the mess they've made of the bar, a little regretfully. He sighs, buttoning his jeans.

"I think I'd better clean up here, before we forget."

"Alright, if you're sure," Liam says, and laughs, and takes Colt away as Alistair gets the spray cleaner and the dishrags out to start wiping up the mess they've made.

He's surprised by the twinge of fondness he feels as he hears Liam talking softly to Colt as he goes down the hall, voice rumbling, and the mumbled, indistinct answers Colt gives in return.

Alright. Maybe the boy can stick around.