AN: Due to popular demand via email and reviews both on here and AO3, here is what happens when our lovely boys awaken, enjoy!
Sherlock is the first to awaken in the pile of limbs and body parts. His body is slightly stiff, though he is not sure why at first. It takes him a moment to compute why he is warm on his front and cool on his back. Then it clicks, four hours and twenty-one minutes ago his John and him had bed done with Eric. John was the warmth to his front, Eric the cool on his back.
Stretching just a bit he kisses John's shoulder, enjoying the way it feels beneath his lips. He is mildly surprised when a rough tongue flickers against his neck.
I am surprise you do not smell or taste half bad. Now how did you decide this would be the most successful idea? he hears the cobra comment in his mind as his tongue traces his spine.
"John gave me a list of things that had been already tried," he starts to answer, losing his focus when a set of sharp fangs brush the joint of his shoulder and neck.
And? The smart ass cobra queries.
"I did the math and probabilities. We are very similar so I considered what would be the best option, then told John." He replies tilting his head forward a bit so that he has easy access. Those fangs feel a bit unusual as they scrap across his skin.
Hmmmm. It was different. Eric replies, I can say having someone else's emotions in me is very, he pauses for a moment, different.
Several minutes pass in silence as the deadly cobra explores his back with an ease that startles him. Normally he dislikes being touched by anyone but John, however for some reason it is not an annoying feeling the way the cobra's long fingers are skimming over his back, kneading the muscles there. Everything else about the cobra seems to be perfectly still, he cannot even feel his breath on the back of his neck.
Slowly, John rolls over and looks at them, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes as he awakens. The sight before his is rather erotic though the wolf in him wishes to attack the interloper until it recalls that it had willingly allowed said interloper into their bed. Which was really the interloper's bed, he reminds himself as he watches the cobra rubbing his mates back. Despite the fact he is no longer linked with the cobra, he is still more comfortable with him in the bed with them than he would have been waking up with anyone else.
Giving a small shake of his head, he focuses in on Eric, using his gifts to check on his spirit. He can still feel the link between him and his children, the broken edges of his past bond link are almost completely smoothed out, still rough but no longer shattered into a frayed mess. Still he was concerned that it was not enough and was considering what else to do. While his mind was working, he maintained the iota link between himself and the cobra, watching the effects just his touching of Sherlock. It seemed to sooth something, the edge of his pack bonding and mate bonding are slowly healing though the parts that had been shredded the night before seem almost normal now. Breaking off the link he is surprised to see a pair of pitch black eyes watching him narrowly.
You forget I am a telepath first I think. He hears the tall cobra remark.
Not really, I was just checking how well everything worked. He gives a small shrug, shifting a little closer to his mate, after all, that was the purpose of driving my wolf a bit insane wasn't it?
True. There is laughter in the cobra's mind voice, well, what did you find?
Just about there, not all the way but close. Its odd, the wolf part of me dislikes the fact you are touching my mate, the thera part of me recognizes the fact that with every touch you seem to be healing. He gives a mental shake of his head and another shrug of his shoulders, it may be interesting to see how this works without being completely linked like we were last night, but we should make sure that Sherlock is alright with it.
Well then ask, the cobra replies as his fingers continue to knead the muscles of Sherlock's back, moving lower.
The low moan that escapes his mate causes him to tense up for a moment in jealousy as his wolf snarls, however the part of him that is a healer shushes the wolf without second thought. "Sherlock, love," he murmurs, catching his bondmates attention.
"Yes John?" he hisses out, arching towards those long fingers that are kneading his lower back, it feels amazing.
"Would you be willing to continue this morning's activities without the link?" he inquires, his voice catching a little at the idea of sharing his mate. His inner wolf is screaming like crazy but is being suppressed by his healer's nature. It is a rather annoying feeling really.
Sherlock's eyes flicker open as he studies his mate for a few breaths, long enough to figure out that they had not been completely successful but that it was rather close. According to the feeling he was getting from his love, he was certain that one more try, this time not linked, would do the trick. The problem was, his lover's wolf nature was not happy to share even if he had invited the cobra into the mix.
Leaning forward a bit he catches his golden wolf's lips with his own, kissing him deeply before murmuring against them, "I am not against it at this time."
Well? Eric softly hisses to John, leaning forward again to brush his lips down the human back in front of him and enjoying the spike of pleasure he could taste in the air.
The blonde man nods once before pushing his mate back a bit, his wolf nature complains about the interloper being so close but he ignores it as he shifts his body in just a little bit more, kissing his mate first on the lips before trailing across his jaw and down his throat. His shorter fingers trace a similar path, rubbing and touching his mate, while his sense of smell delights in his mates arousal even as it protests the others presence.
For Sherlock's part he is not sure who he should try to touch, the cobra who is making him feel like a boneless puddle of muscle or the wolf who is making his body burn with need. What he does know is this is not a situation he ever expected to find himself in once, let alone twice. Before he needs to make any sort of choice, the cobra makes one for him, reaching around him to shove John flat on his back before casually lifting him as if he is a child to settle him over his bondmate's thighs. Once the two of them are situated, the tall snake settles himself behind Sherlock once more, this time using his tongue and teeth to tease his ear and jaw while his hands wander over his body.
Moaning, he decides to run his hands all over every part of John that he can reach. He knows exactly how to arouse his wolf lover and puts that knowledge to work even as he is teased into a fevered pitch by the two shifters.
Somewhere along the way, a new bottle of lube is produced, and Sherlock whimpers as he feels those cool fingers slowly exploring his ass. When the first of those long digits slips into the tight ring of his asshole he cannot help but rub himself against John who in response arches against him. He is surprised when he feels a second finger join the first, but not as surprised when two becomes three. However he is surprised when that cobra, pushes him forward and down just a bit, which embeds his wolf deep inside his ass. How, he wonders even as his mind starts to blank, did he pull that off.
John does not care how the cobra pulled off, only that he did. As his hips slowly surge upwards into his mate, his fingers loosely grasp his hips in order to move him in time. He watches as the cobra runs his scaled tipped fingers down his mates body, but is mildly surprised when he moves on to rubbing his body slowly. Those cool fingers kneading him much the same way they had kneaded his mate just minutes before. While his head rested on his mates shoulder, tongue occasionally flickering out to brush against the pulse point when he turns his head.
Unlike the previous time where fire seemed to reign down, this was a slower burn, enjoyed by each of them for differing reasons and before it was done all three of them were breathing heavily, though John was probably breathing the hardest.
Through all of it, the cobra keeps his telepathy wide open to the pair, enjoying listening to their pleasure as much as he can taste it in the air. He is not as much of an active participant this time, compared to the last, but then, that is bound to be the truth when one goes from sharing every feeling and emotions and reaction to only getting the same input as a normal lover would. Well as normal as a person whose mind never stops playing with others would.
He teases both of them, though keeps himself pressed against the human in their threesome. It shocks him when Sherlock twists around, catching him in a deep kiss without managing to lose the connection to the wolf inside him. Surprises him further when said wolf shifts his positioning, lifting his mate and the cobra both just enough that he can move his legs while his mate takes the time to finish turning around somehow managing not to dislodge his mate. It is a rather alluring sight.
Now it is John pressed against the humans back as the slender human carefully runs his fingers along the patterned scales that grace the cobra's body. To Sherlock those scales are fascinating, he is certain that there is a meaning behind the pattern but he cannot deduce it from the information he has available. The difference between scales and skin is rather noticeable; his scales are several degrees cooler than his already cool flesh. One long fingered violinist hand sinks into the short hair at the nape of the cobra's neck as he pulls the cobra to him, kissing him deeply and enjoying the response he gets.
Where before the two men tasted the same to him, now that their minds were separate, he could taste the distinct difference between the cobra and the wolf. He prefers his wolf's flavor but enjoys the taste of the cobra in a different way. Perhaps they could discuss doing something to this effect sometime in their collective future for the fun of it and not because of a possible death sentence hanging over their collective heads. He is curious how that would feel, if it would be different.
Thoughts flee however as the cobra decides to take over kissing, and joins John in running his fingers over his body before carefully cupping his achingly hard length and slowly beginning to stroke him. Within moments he is panting harder than John, his body trying to decide whether it wanted to push back onto the exquisite fullness of his mate or forwards into the cool fingers that are driving him crazy.
Apparently the two shifters are having a conversation, because he is startled when Eric shifts from kissing him in deep, breathe stealing kisses, to across his jaw and shoulder to kissing his mate over his shoulder. As he does so, both shifters press closer, and John goes from thrusting into him to slowly circling his hips, hitting his prostate on nearly every rotation. He whimpers with his head thrown back against John's should as he watches the two men, his mind blank as his body overloads.
Moments later he is coming hard across his and the cobra's chest, through it all he is making all sorts needy sounds. Delighting in the same type of sounds escaping his partners. Not really thinking about it, he reaches down with one slender hand to stroke the cobra's cock bringing him to a peak within moments after himself. Perhaps the scent of their release does it, because as the cobra comes on their close chests he feels John's body strain against him and come deep within.
Again all three lay down as a boneless mass together, though none of them pass out. John reaches one smaller hand across his body to touch the face of the cobra whose eyes drift shut.
From inside his gift, John can feel the very nature of Eric's soul. The areas where the links had once been rough and fray are completely healed over. No longer does it feel like an itch he cannot solve, but instead it is smooth and flowing. There are still spots where there is scaring, for a lack of a better word, but those spots are not nearly as noticeable. The force that he could feel when he had first healed the cobra's broken body is gone.
A soft brush against his mind makes him think of a woman's touch before it vanishes.
"I would suggest a shower, or three depending on your preferences," Eric murmurs, his voice a soft hiss. He can feel the difference. The burning urge to find and rip Kimberly's throat out was gone. While the ache he had felt since the day his family was butchered has lessened to something more bearable than it has been in a long time. Thank you, he thinks, directing his attention internally, towards the dark goddess whose domain includes healing.
