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Ivar: Toby just asked why I’m zooming into a stranger’s backside at breakfast. I told him it was for science.
Felix: Adequate.
On Wednesday he sent a photo of Ruari’s forearm, flour-dusted, veined, braced on the kitchen doorframe while he shouted something at Raf about proving times. Thursday was Ruari asleep on the sofa with one enormous foot hanging off the end, his mouth open, looking nothing like an apex predator, just someone Cassian wanted to curl up inside forever.
Ivar liked each one. Occasionally he sent something in response: If Toby looked like that I would not be sending photos to a group chat. I would be in a state of permanent occupation. And once, with no elaboration: I have saved this photo for personal use. Toby does not need to know this.
By Sunday morning, Cassian had assembled a portfolio that captured the full breadth of his alpha’s physical magnificence, and he was running out of angles.
Ruari was still asleep beside him, with one arm slung above his head. The morning light from the gap in the curtains fell across his cheekbone, catching the dark stubble.
They’d fucked through most of the night. Cassian could still feel the pleasant ache of it low in his pelvis, pulsing whenever he shifted on the mattress, and he had bite marks on his shoulder and the inside of his thigh that would take days to fade.
He reached for his mobile from the bedside table, opened the camera, and framed Ruari’s sleeping face.
The photo was beautiful. Ruari’s jaw was slack and soft, the hard set of it gone almost boyish.
He sent it to the MOAN chat with a single heart emoji.
Ivar: He looks peaceful. Guard this man’s sleep with your life.
Felix’s reply took longer.
Show us his cock, then.
Cassian looked at the message. Then he looked at Ruari with a new and appraising eye.
The duvet sat across Ruari’s waist. Cassian pinched the edge of it and drew it down. Ruari’s cock lay soft on his inner thigh, flushed and pretty in the warm light. His thighs were parted just enough for Cassian to see the full length of it nestled in the dark hair at its base, the foreskin gathered over the head, still tacky from the night before.
Cassian frowned at the screen.
He raised the mobile, framed the shot, adjusted the angle, framed it again, and then lowered the mobile, lips pressed together.
No. This wouldn’t do.
Ruari’s limp cock might get a seven. A generous seven, on account of the girth, which even at rest was considerable enough that Cassian’s hand couldn’t close around it. But Felix didn’t grade on a curve, and Felix had once given an alpha who’d been photographed by GQ a four-point-five on the basis that his jaw was ‘too soft’. Ruari deserved better than a seven. Ruari was a ten, for both presentation and practical application, which meant his cock needed waking up.
Cassian reached out and wrapped his hand around it, giving it a few strokes, firm enough to coax blood southward, gentle enough not to startle the rest of Ruari into consciousness before the composition was ready. The alpha’s cock responded with gratifying enthusiasm, thickening against his palm and flushing a deeper pink as it lifted away from Ruari’s thigh and curved upward.
Much better.
Cassian released it, wiped his palm on the sheet, and raised his mobile again, tilting the screen to check the angle. The golden morning light was really bringing out its rosy flush.
Ruari surfaced slowly from sleep, his eyes opening to Cassian kneeling beside him with his tongue poking out one corner of his mouth, one hand holding the mobile at a considered angle above Ruari’s lap while the other hovered near his hip, ready to make adjustments if his cock lost its firmness.
“Cass.” Ruari’s voice came out thick with sleep. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t move,” Cassian said, without looking up. “The light’s good, and I want to send a good photo to the MOAN chat.”
“Cassian — no.”
Ruari’s hand shot out and covered the lens. Cassian ducked sideways, twisting the mobile out of reach.
“But Felix asked, Ruari.” Cassian clutched his mobile to his chest with both hands. “And I want to show them. You’re very impressive. You should be proud of your cock. I’m proud of it.”
Ruari’s laughter shook the mattress as his head dropped onto the pillow.
“Felix was taking the piss, Cass.” Ruari pushed himself upright and confiscated the mobile from Cassian. “And nobody wants a surprise cock. Not even a well-lit one.”
