The cupcakes were long gone and the champagne had gone flat in the glasses hours ago, and by the time Elliot and Grayson turned the living room into a whipped cream laboratory, Kota was properly, royally drunk.
His collar was open, his shirt had come untucked somewhere between dinner and dessert, and he had laughed so hard at Grayson screaming at Corey to hold still that his ribs ached.
Theo was drunk too, draped over Kota’s shoulder, and Sebastian had loosened up enough to tell a genuinely funny story about a student’s essay on Moby Dick that had all three of them giggling into their glasses.
Then Kota’s surprise had been thoroughly unwrapped and cried over and kissed about, and gift time came.
Theo’s hand found Kota’s under the table, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.
“We’re going upstairs,” Theo announced.
“Both of you.
Right now.”
Sebastian blinked.
“Upstairs?”
“My room.
I have a gift.”
“You already gave us gifts,” Kota said, but he was already letting Theo pull him upright.
“Those were your gifts to us.
This is mine, to both of you.”
Theo tugged him toward the door, reaching back with his other hand to snag Sebastian’s fingers.
“Come on, come on, before the twins notice we’re gone and try to make it a group thing.
I love them.
But I’m not sharing tonight.”
Sebastian scrambled after them, nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Should we not at least tell someone we’re leaving?”
“The others are currently seeing how many marshmallows Corey can shove in his mouth,” Kota said.
“They won’t notice.”
“Oh.
Fair point.”
They went up the grand staircase hand in hand in hand, and Kota missed a step twice, and Theo shushed him with a finger to his lips even though Theo himself kept hiccuping with suppressed giggles, and Sebastian kept whispering
“shh, shh, we’re being stealthy” at full volume.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs all three of them were shaking with laughter, leaning on each other so nobody tipped over.
Kota’s brain short-circuited.
Whipped cream was the first thing he registered, and there was a lot of it.
Bowls of it on the vanity, more on the nightstand, a whole silver tower of cream puffs on the writing desk, and three unopened cans lined up on the dresser like a small army.
In the center of the bed, arranged on the duvet like a display in an expensive shop window, sat the toys.
Two cupid outfits, matching, scraps of white trimmed in red ribbon so small they looked like they belonged on dolls.
Kota picked one up and held it against his chest and genuinely could not figure out how a person was supposed to fit inside it.
There were straps where fabric should have been and windows where there should have been straps.
One cutout sat right over the chest.
Another sat lower, right over the groin.
And when he turned it around, the back opened up in a gap so wide that an entire ass would hang through it, framed by ribbon like a present nobody had to unwrap.
“I don’t,” Kota said slowly, “understand what this is.”
“It’s a cupid costume,” Theo said, bouncing on his heels.
“There are two.
One for Sebastian, one for me.”
“These aren’t costumes, Theo.
These are two thirds of nothing.”
Beside the outfits lay a little red bow and a matching arrow.
Kota picked up the arrow without thinking and immediately understood from the weight that it was not a decoration.
It had a base, flared wide at the bottom, and the shaft curved in a way that left absolutely no room for interpretation.
“Theo,” Kota said, holding it up.
“This has a base.”
“It’s a very festive arrow.”
“This arrow is not for shooting.”
“Correct.
It’s for other things.
Valentine’s things.”
Sebastian made a sound like a kettle about to whistle.
“Oh.
Oh goodness.”
And in front of the whole display, sitting on the vanity table like it had been waiting for them, was a heart-shaped box of chocolates tied with a fat red ribbon.
Kota had seen plenty of chocolate in his life, but this box was different.
It was heavy and expensive, and it sat there like it knew something he did not.
Theo picked it up, untied the ribbon, and opened the lid with a little drumroll sound from his own lips.
Eight chocolates sat inside, nestled on velvet, each one dusted with gold so fine it shimmered in the candlelight.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Theo said.
Then he picked up the first chocolate, put it in his mouth whole, and bit down.
He ate four of them.
Kota stood frozen and watched, watched Theo’s eyes fall shut, watched the chocolate melt slowly on his tongue, watched him lick the gold dust off his fingers one by one, unhurried, like he was putting on a show.
Because he was.
Every single move was aimed at Kota.
Every swallow was measured.
Then Theo picked up the remaining four.
“Sebastian,” he said, and his voice went soft.
“Open.”
Sebastian’s cheeks were already pink.
He opened his mouth, and Theo fed him the chocolate, holding it between his fingers and watching Sebastian take it, watching his lips close around it.
He did it four times, once for each piece, and by the last one Sebastian was trembling and there was a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth that Theo leaned in and licked away, slow, keeping his eyes on Kota the whole time.
Kota’s throat was dry.
His hands were shoved in his pockets for a reason.
“Okay,” he said, and his voice came out rough.
“I’m not gonna complain about that.
Not even a little.
Watching my two hot boyfriends feed each other chocolate is not a bad way to spend a Valentine’s night.
But I have to ask.” He nodded at the empty box.
“What was that about?”
Theo’s grin sharpened.
“Each one of those chocolates has enough aphrodisiac in it to keep somebody horny for four hours straight,” he said.
“Not a little horny.
Out of their mind horny.
Can’t think, can’t stop, can’t get enough.
Body won’t settle down no matter what you do horny.”
Kota blinked. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“Each?”
“Each.”
“Four hours.”
“Four hours,” Theo agreed.
Kota’s drunk brain did the math anyway, and he watched Theo’s smile widen the second it clicked.
“You ate four,” he said slowly.
“Sebastian ate four.”
“Sixteen hours,” Sebastian said faintly, from somewhere very far away, his voice cracking on the last syllable.
“Sixteen hours of.
Of.
Oh.”
“Sixteen hours of nonstop fucking,” Theo confirmed, popping a stray bit of gold dust off his thumb.
“And that’s not counting however long it takes us to get warmed up before it really kicks in.
By the time we’re done with you, darling, you’ll know exactly what you signed up for.”
The heat climbed up Kota’s neck before he could do a single thing about it.
It spread over his cheeks and burned the tips of his ears, and he knew he was blushing, actually blushing, deeply, and he could not stop it.
He was the Dom.
He was the one who made other people blush.
He had reduced grown men to stuttering with one sentence before.
But standing here in the middle of Theo’s candlelit room, drunk, with his two boyfriends watching him like he was a meal they had been saving up for, Kota was blushing so hard his face felt like a furnace.
“Sixteen hours,” he repeated.
“Theo, that’s a lot.
That’s.
Isn’t that too much?”
Theo laughed, and took off his clothes.
Sebastian took a breath, steadied himself, and pulled his sweater over his head.
They undressed slowly, deliberately, folding their clothes and stealing glances at Kota while they did it, and Kota stood there with his hands in his pockets and watched, because there was no way on earth he was going to look away.
Theo stepped out of the frilled dress and let it pool around his ankles, Sebastian unbuttoned his shirt with fingers that shook only a little.
And when they were both bare, flushed and beautiful, they reached for the cupid outfits.
Theo stepped into his like he had been wearing it his whole life, settled the straps over his shoulders, and turned in a slow circle, showing off how the satin framed his monumental ass, the deep cleft on full display through the gap in the back.
He reached behind himself, adjusted a string, and winked at Kota over his shoulder.
Sebastian wrestled with his.
He got a strap twisted, turned an even deeper shade of red, muttered what sounded like an apology to an inanimate object, and finally got the thing settled with Theo’s help.
When he turned around, the cutout framed his smooth chest, and when he looked down and realized his cocklet was poking through the little window in front, he made a sound like a dying mouse and slapped both hands over himself.
“Don’t,” Kota said, and his voice came out wrecked.
“Don’t you dare cover that up.”
Sebastian’s hands dropped.
Theo picked up the little red bow.
Sebastian picked up the arrow, holding it the way someone might hold a snake they had been assured was friendly.
They walked toward Kota together, hip to hip, two cupids made of white satin and red ribbon and bare skin, and Kota was suddenly very aware of how tight his pants had become.
Kota found the composure to ask them, “isn’t this too much?”
They stopped right in front of him, close enough that he could smell the sugar on their breath.
Then they blew him a kiss, in perfect sync, and said, “Is it?”
THEY GETTING FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKED