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It was nine o’clock on a Friday night and Nick was seated down for dinner with Monroe and Renard. He couldn’t remember when they had started having regular weekly meals together but it was always enjoyable and a good excuse for them to spend more time together and talk openly about their lives in both the human and wesen worlds.
Tonight was Nick’s turn to host and he had decided to serve a flavoursome vegetarian soup, made with bell peppers, fresh lemon and roasted garlic, though he had added one extra ingredient to the recipe this time: powdered wesen aphrodisiac, made from human testicles.
Nick wasn’t even sure when he had begun taking the idea seriously, but he knew that it had been playing at the back of his mind since Monroe had first mentioned that wesen have a strong reaction to ingesting various human body parts. At first Nick was horrified by the concept, and he still felt that way to some degree. It was strange therefore when, after so forcefully shutting down trade of the illegal substances from the spice shop that had sold them, Nick had found himself sneaking back later and pocketing a small bag of the aphrodisiac that hadn’t been destroyed when he had crashed the cabinet housing them to the floor.
He had tried to hide the bag away for a while to put it from mind but it wasn’t long before he found himself considering using the contents. It felt wrong, but Nick justified keeping the little bag as making good use of something that would otherwise just go to waste. And it wasn’t like he would do it again if he did use it, and he certainly would never give reason for anyone to harvest more supplies to satisfy demand. Perhaps it was more like organ donation really when done properly – wesen doctors secretively putting aside a few extra body parts while taking the officially harvested ones for transplants and other good use.
And this was definitely good use, Nick thought to himself as he stared down at his bowl now, watching the orange and red of the smooth soup twirl spirals in his bowl as he absentmindedly stirred it, waiting.
And anyway, he thought further, surely it was no different to ingesting animal parts, really. But even if it wasn’t the same, well, humans ingested human substances, like semen for instance...
He glanced up under long lashes and eyed his two companions from his vantage point at the head of the table. Monroe was on his right and Renard on his left and they were both relaxed back, talking casually to each other as they discussed a new restaurant that had just opened. Monroe, always one to be interested in a well cooked meal, had been eating out more at exclusive eateries since Renard had joined them. Nick had encouraged them all to spend time together since he and Monroe had discovered Renard was wesen, if only to bring his separate worlds together and to encourage further friendship.
He had also begun encouraging their interest in food since noticing Renard and Monroe’s refined tastes. That was well worth spending the time to cultivate. After all, there was such a diverse range of sexual opportunities present when food was involved in an evening, he thought idly to himself.
Right now though, Nick was exploring patience. He knew he was being unusually quiet, letting his two companions take control of the conversation but it didn’t bother him. His mind was supplying far more diverting images of how far the evening could go once the illicit powder took effect. He could wait. Or not...
It never hurt to push fate a little.
A small, mischievous smile turned up the side of Nick’s mouth and he reached over and casually took a herbed breadstick from the wooden basket in the centre of the table, fingering it at little provocatively as he did so. He noticed his two companions follow his move as they paused for a moment in their conversation, Monroe letting his spoon hesitate for a moment not far from his mouth.
That’s promising, Nick thought.
He pretended not to notice them as he sprinkled a light trail of olive oil over the stick and then slowly pushed the end deep in his mouth, looking up almost inadvertently to meet the eyes of his companions before slowly sucking the oil off as he withdrew it again.
Monroe choked on his spoonful of soup. Renard blinked but didn’t react further but Nick hadn’t expected him to. He was too good at schooling his emotions for that. Nick grinned inwardly.
They had all been playing around the edge of flirtation in the last month or so, and Nick wasn’t sure he could handle the anticipation any longer – he had never had good impulse control. No one had made a definite move, though. Nick was sure Renard was only holding back out of professionalism considering their roles at work, and Monroe was trying to behave himself to not risk their friendship.
It was incredibly frustrating. Wesen could be so damn respectful at all the wrong times.
And that was really why tonight was the night that Nick’s dinner had one more ingredient stirred in. It was time to take charge.
"This soup is delicious, Nick," said Monroe, trying to cover for his obvious reaction a moment before. He reached over to ladle himself an extra helping as he found the warmth of the soup and the closeness of his friends rising his temperature a little too much.
"I agree - it's excellent," Renard added, eying the main bowl and then Nick with a slightly too intense expression. "There's a flavor in there I can't quite identify...?"
Nick decided to go with innocent. "Really? It's just the usual things you’d expect, but I'm glad you like it. Another bowl?"
He knew he shouldn't push it, but it was just too tempting.
Renard nodded and Nick reached over to ladle his captain another serve.
Nick was now sure the aphrodisiac was working. Since his breadstick show, Monroe was barely watching his food as he ate, instead focusing on Nick, his eyes following every movement the Grimm made. Renard had far better control but Nick knew him better than that. There was a different feel to the man’s posture – more alert, more focused, almost expectant.
Almost ready.
Nick chose his time well. He opted for his spoon this time, scooping up a generous helping of the aromatic soup and raising it to his lips. He licked the underside of the spoon, then sucked some of the thick liquid from the centre, then turned it upside down and flattened it to his tongue, swallowing the rest of the mouthful whole.
Monroe snapped his own spoon clear in half. The Blutbad within was flooding his senses with animalistic urges, and he was struggling to retain any decency and control. Renard barely noticed Monroe’s reaction. He had swallowed so hard when Nick licked his spoon that it was audible across the table.
They had now both stopped eating and were staring fixatedly at the Grimm.
The silence finally broke and Nick turned his head to Monroe, pulling the spoon slowly from his mouth as he gave a look of mild surprise. “Oh... that’s no good,” he said with a quirk of his head, motioning down to Monroe’s broken spoon handle still held awkwardly in his fingers. “I’ll get you another one.”
He rose from his chair and turned his back on them to allow a small, shameless grin to cross his face, ever so fleetingly.
“Sorry...” he heard Monroe say from behind him distractedly, a slightly delayed response as though he couldn’t quite stay focused on the motions of civilised conversation. He reached for his glass of wine to calm his racing nerves.
Nick quickly grabbed a replacement spoon from his kitchen and returned back, walking over to stand far too close behind Monroe as he leaned forward over him to place the cutlery down. He was standing so close Monroe could feel the warmth of his body against his back. Nick turned his head and lent down a little further, his face only a fraction of an inch from Monroe’s cheek. “Not a problem,” he replied under his breath, his voice smooth and low in Monroe’s ear.
Monroe gave a small jerk in his chair, spilling his wine though much to his relief not breaking the glass with the crushing grip he was holding it with like a lifeline. He couldn’t stop a half-swallowed moan escaping his throat.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Nick, his voice returned to normal as he rose slightly and giving a look of overdone concern. “I didn’t mean to distract you. I’ll pour you some more.” He moved slightly to the side of Monroe and bent forward over the table to reach for the bottle.
Renard had stopped even pretending to care about his own meal and he watched the scene play out across the table. His eyes were focused and intense, his head tipped ever so slightly to the side in fixated fascination as he watched Nick slowly start dropping his innocent pretence.
Monroe, meanwhile, was trying not to think thoughts about what he wanted to do with Nick while he was leaning over the table, but as he forced himself to look away he caught Renard’s eye and let out a low exhale of air as he saw the man’s expression. It was desire mixed with a subtle thread of amusement. It said: He’s playing you. Take him.
Nick chose that moment to turn his head slightly as he stayed bent over the table for just a moment too long, and the look Monroe saw cross his face left no doubts that Renard was right.
Monroe didn’t need any further encouragement, though somewhere at the back of his hormone flooded mind he couldn’t quite comprehend how they had found themselves here. For the life of him, in that moment, he didn’t care.
He rose from his chair so suddenly that it made a loud screech again the floor, but it was forgotten quickly as he moved behind Nick, letting his hands drop to his friend’s hips. He held himself there for a moment, not moving. He wanted to make that one, obvious move of intent to give his friend one chance to say if it was all a joke, a misunderstanding, anything. But Nick didn’t. He didn’t move at all; didn’t say a word. Just kept staring back over his shoulder, waiting.
Monroe raising his head to meet Renard’s gaze that was on him now, and Renard gave a small, satisfied nod as though giving him approval to begin.
The wesen side of them both was sparking to the aphrodisiac as instinct took hold of them both. Neither was concerned about the setting as the animals within them could not care less about thoughts of human modesty or restraint.
Renard leaned forward and pushed their dishes away, clearing room under where Nick was leaning towards him, and as soon as that was done he reached over and down to Nick’s waist, letting his fingers feel bare skin for a moment before pulling Nick’s shirt up and over his head, stripping him bare to the waist. Monroe moved next, pushing down on Nick’s bare back so he was properly bent forward, his chest against the smooth wood of the table. He then reached down and underneath Nick, unzipping his pants and pushing them down his legs, encouraging him with a small push of his knee to step out of the material and spread his legs.
Nick knew he was playing with fire, starting what he had. He had no idea what it would be like to have sex with wesen, their lust heightened by spiked aphrodisiac, and he felt something like a growl sound against the table, coming from his own throat. Pure want. It sounded indecent and he knew it, lying naked over the table while his friends moved on either side to use him. It was exactly what he wanted.
He let out a short hiss as cold oil on a warm finger pressed into him with no warning. It sent a flood of nerves spiking through his body, making his eyes roll back. He moaned and dropped his head forward to rest on the table, realising as he half-closed his eyes after the first rush that it was the olive oil Monroe was using. Some part of his brain thought in satisfaction that he knew it was worth bringing that bottle to the table for the evening’s meal.
Before Nick could indulge in thoughts of his open manipulation for too much longer, he felt another push against him, this time definitely not a finger. Monroe wasn’t wasting any time. Nick braced himself and pushed back, letting himself impale over his friend’s cock, feeling it slide inside him with barely restrained force.
“Fuck....” he swore loudly, forcefully, as Monroe’s hands held his hips in place and began to start thrusting against him, barely allowing him time to adjust. The Grimm within Nick felt the beast in Monroe take control, pushing to succumb to instinct and take him hard.
Nick arched his back, fingers gripping the far table edge for support and he moved his legs further apart to allow Monroe even more reign over him. He heard low, deep breathing above his bowed head and he raised glazed eyes upward to stare into Renard’s own.
Renard was still seated, his chair pushed back slightly, watching. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even touched his lap which must have been aching with arousal but he was letting himself enjoy what he wanted for the moment. Just to watch the action unfold. Watch the change from Nick being in control to Monroe taking charge. Watch his detective, his Grimm, bent over the table being taken by a Blutbad. It was dirty and uncontrolled and everything that Renard liked.
He looked into Nick’s eyes and his own blazed as they met each other’s stare, Nick’s face the picture of debauchery, still wanting even more.
Renard let his control go a little more, and a small, calculating tug of his lip turned his mouth into a wicked smile. Still not rising, wanting to keep Nick’s gaze, Renard reached a hand over to his discarded soup bowl and idly, frustratingly slowly, spooned some of the mixture up carefully. He leaned forward, making sure Nick’s dilated pupils stayed focused on his before raising the spoon to Nick’s already parted lips and letting him take a small taste with his tongue on the underside. Before Nick could try for more, Renard lifted it out of reach and rose from his chair, smoothly leaning forward to let the warm trail of soup trickle down over the bare skin of Nick’s exposed back.
Monroe had been watching the entire play, his own thrusts into Nick deep and steady but not stopping or threatening to end yet. His eyes were all pupil and his senses heightened as his nose picked up the scent of pepper and lemon, garlic and herbs, mixed with the salt of sweat and the musk of sex. It was pure intoxication. He let out a deep growl and leaned forward over Nick and licked one long trail up his spine, taking into his mouth the flavours Renard has so generously left behind.
Monroe stayed bent over Nick and began pushing harder into him, reaching forward to run his hands over and down Nick’s arms to take hold of his wrists to steady him in place. He felt heat pulse through him with each thrust, and he wanted it to last longer but urges inside him were tempting to peak and take him over. He heard Nick beneath him – raw noises almost desperate in sound and punctuating each thrust he made deep into him. It was almost too much.
But Renard stopped him with a touch on his shoulder, distracting him enough that Monroe let his lidded eyes open wide for a moment to see Renard’s face was not far from his own. Monroe leaned forward and kissed him, not even thinking, acting only on instinct. It was rough and hot and he paused only a moment in his thrusts into Nick as he distracted himself for a few beats with the feel of Renard’s mouth against his own, the king’s hand behind his head, holding them together.
And then they separated, both breathing harder before another deep moan from beneath them made them look down.
“Oh, we haven’t forgotten you,” said Renard in response, his voice teasing and sex-ridden.
He reached over to the side to take up another spoonful of soup, this time trailing it along Nick’s neck and over his shoulder, the crimson and gold liquid offsetting the light tan of bare skin.
Monroe leaned down again and let his tongue fall on the end of the path, the warm skin beneath flexing slightly at the contact, and then he pushed forward and licked it off, this time ending on the side of Nick’s exposed neck, feeling the delicious pounding of blood underneath skin.
He stayed there for a few moments more, relishing the contact and the excitement of his overloaded senses. He raised his head only when he smelled the aroma of another path being spooned down the other side of Nick’s back, and he lifted himself to allow access for it to extend the entire way to the base of Nick’s spine. But upon seeing Renard’s expression he knew that one wasn’t for him.
Renard leaned over his handiwork and let his tongue fall onto Nick’s shoulder blade. He let himself enjoy the flavours there for a moment as he heard the hitch in Nick’s breathing and a quiet moan not far from his ear. He then moved, licking his own trail slowly down Nick’s back, playing his tongue over the contours of spine and muscle before coming to a stop just above where Monroe was deep within.
Nick groaned loudly, a raw exhalation as he let himself be held down, thrust into, and used to finish their meal.
But Renard wasn’t quite done with his plans. He pulled back from tasting the trail of soup on Nick’s back and let himself lower into a squat so that he was once again at eye level with Nick’s head. He reached a hand up and gently grabbed hold of Nick’s hair, guiding him to raise himself to his elbows and meet his eyes.
Renard leaned forward and kissed him, the taste of sweet and sour on his lips mingling with the feel of Nick’s mouth and the sound of a desperate moan begging for more.
Renard didn’t allow him too long but instead leaned back, not breaking his gaze but instead making sure Nick was watching his every move. He quietly placed his spoon down and instead reached a hand over to his bowl and scooped his fingers inside, covering them with warm, smooth liquid. His mouth upturned into a quick, wicked grin as Nick’s widened eyes followed his movements, wondering what was coming. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
Renard reached down with his free hand and undid his pants, pushing them down enough to release his cock, and without a moment’s hesitation smeared his entire handful of soup over the length of his now exposed shaft.
Nick gaped.
Monroe’s thrusts behind him were hitting areas that spiked him to the point of desperately wanting release but he knew there was no chance he would be allowed to before Renard was finished with him. And he knew exactly what was expected. As though Renard wanted to confirm it to him, Nick felt a hand come up and curl again into his dark hair, half-stroking, half-holding his head in place as Renard stepped closer to push his cock against Nick’s slightly open mouth.
“Finish it.”
Nick heard the words above him, barely audible, their pitch so low and laden with lust. He let out a noise that was practically a whimper and leaned forward as much as he could to take a long, deep lick from the base to the tip of Renard’s straining cock. It tasted like nothing he had experienced before, the salty mix of sex coupled with the sharp tang of lemon, spicing the flavours beneath, making him want more.
He felt the rhythmic thrusts behind him, deep into him as they hastened, each one pushing him further against Renard, allowing him to suck in more hardened skin under luscious tastes intermingled together, their smells tantalising his own senses as he heard Monroe take scent behind him and groan his own arousal.
Monroe leaned forward, not breaking his movements but instead letting his own tongue finish licking every last taste of soup from Nick’s skin beneath him until there was nothing left but the desperate shudders of contracting muscle hard against his mouth.
Nick could hardly think, the sensation of Monroe’s mouth against his back and down his spine was distracting him to madness, while his mouth was flooded with tastes and sensations, and his body was thrust deeply into, setting his nerves alight.
He couldn’t hold back any longer and he came hard against his table, contracting around Monroe inside him and making such a deep vibrating moan in his throat that neither Monroe nor Renard could hold their own control any more.
Monroe let out a noise almost animalistic in sound, and Renard tightened his fingers in Nick’s hair and groaned, so incredibly deep and full of uncontrolled release that Nick could only brace himself until the shudders died down and the fingers gripping his hips and entangled in his hair slowly, eventually, let go.
...
None of them even bothered trying to move for a few, long minutes, each lost in their private worlds of stilling pleasure.
Eventually, though, Monroe moved first, pushing himself upright as he pulled out, then Renard stepped back too, allowing Nick to finally push himself off the table. He half stepped, half-stumbled over to his chair. He didn’t even bother retrieving his clothes. There wasn’t really a point in modesty anymore, considering what had just taken place.
“You played us,” said Renard, not even trying to hide the impressed amusement in his voice. He had already seated himself again and refastened his pants, somehow managing to look composed as though he hadn’t just been thrusting his soup-covered cock into his Nick’s mouth a few moments before.
Nick grinned, letting out a slow chuckle as sated satisfaction stopped him from bothering to deny it. “Complaining...?” He looked to both his friends as he spoke.
“No,” said Monroe, still a little dazed and now sprawled back in his own chair as though too tired to move. “Definitely not.”
Renard let out a quiet laugh of his own. “I’m not either,” he said with a nod to Nick as though acknowledging a well played move. “Though I did know you were up to something from the minute we arrived – you don’t have that convincing a poker face.”
Nick just shrugged and grinned again, letting his head roll lazily over to look at Monroe. “And you?” he asked. “Did you know?”
“That you spiked our food with a wesen aphrodisiac?” Monroe asked, actually managing to surprise Nick. “Yes, I did.”
Nick gaped for a moment, momentarily caught off guard as he couldn’t begin to imagine how Monroe knew exactly what he had done.
Monroe just smiled knowingly and tapped the side of his nose. “Blutbad, remember?” he said. “I could smell every ingredient in that soup from the moment I walked in the door. Even the extra addition.”
Nick let out a bark of laughter. “Okay, so I can’t fool either of you,” he grinned and stretched lazily in his chair, shamelessly exposing his still naked body. “So, how about as an apology you both come over again tomorrow night.” He paused to let a wicked grin spread across his face. “Dinner’s on me.”
The looks Monroe and Renard gave him were priceless.
THE END.