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Bloodstained and Champagne Kissed

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There’s a tremendous thump at their door. It’s a pretty distinctive sound, for their kind of people anyway. Kenzi calls towards Bo’s room, “We expecting any bodies today?”

She has to wait a while for Bo to consider that question.

There’s another thump, and a sound of animal pain.

Kenzi goes to the door because someone might need their help; she brings the sword because she’s not an idiot.

There’s not even a second’s thought between seeing the oh-my-God wolf and realising oh-my-God-Dyson-wolf. Bloody Dyson-wolf. Bloody Dyson-Wolf who looks at her with wild eyes and doesn’t change back right away. She puts the sword down and walks backward into the apartment.

“Bo?” Kenzi calls again. “Bo?” She touches the side of his neck and her fingers come away with blood on them, where it was matted darkly into his fur. “Hey. You okay?” He turns his head to look at her and Bo has got there now.

Bo breathes, “Dyson,” and Kenzi takes another second to marvel that their very first thought when a huge-ass wolf wanders his way into their apartment is what the hell kind of mess Dyson has got himself into. Bo says, soft like he’s brought her flowers, if they were the kind of girls who got flowers, “your blood or someone else’s?” She settles her hand solidly into the mess of fur at his neck.

He whines, which is somehow more worrying than if he snapped his jaws at them.

Bo says, “Dyson. Come on, sweetheart. Let us take a look at you.”

Dyson’s skin ripples and it’s that part Kenzi never really knows how to describe, when it finishes and now there’s a naked guy crouching on their floor.

He’s still covered in blood.

“Yours or someone else’s?” Bo asks again.

Dyson looks up at her. “Is there a right answer to that question?” His voice is hoarse. He looks like he’s gone ten rounds with an under-fae.

“Any answer would be a start,” Kenzi tells him.

“Not mine,” he says, “Mostly.” And the two of them sigh in relief. They’re maybe not always great people; when it comes right down to it, better someone else than one of theirs. Dyson is definitely theirs, no matter what happened or didn’t happen this past year.

“Let me…” Bo says, “let me grab you something to wear.” She walks away, which leaves Kenzi alone with naked bloody Dyson.

Kenzi goes to the sink to get a cloth. “Let me guess: they totally deserved it. They badmouthed your momma? They badmouthed Bo? They were cat people.”

Dyson smiles at that. “We had a disagreement.”

“That ended with your claws in their chests?” She settles down on the floor beside him and wipes the blood away from his face.

He doesn’t meet her eyes. “Something like that.”

“So how’d you end up back here? All wolfed up.”

He shrugs. “If I wasn’t ‘all wolfed up’, I wouldn’t have ended up here. My wolf instincts aren’t always that considered.”

“Hey!” Kenzi protests.

He runs his hand over his head. “I was… startled. It’s been a while since anyone managed to jump me like that. When it was done, I ran.”

“To us,” Kenzi points out.

Bo comes back in. “Of course to us.” She tosses clothes at him. “We’re pack.”

That is… probably not how Kenzi would have put it but then ‘family’ doesn’t always mean the right thing to their little band of weirdos. Pack works. She can deal with pack.

Dyson lets her wipe the cloth down his chest. Bo takes over to deal with the stuff that’s… lower. He pulls the jeans on but leaves the shirt. Kenzi has long suspected that if it wasn’t for the fact he has to be out there in the world looking normal, Dyson would probably never be wearing shirts. It might be a wolf thing.

Dyson stands up. “I should probably go.”

“Not a chance mister.” Kenzi drags him to the couch. “We should talk.” When he looks like she’d suggested they go start a fight in a Dark Fae bar, she backtracks. “Or we can sit here. Get drunk.” Dyson maybe doesn’t want to go into all the reasons he got himself messed up and came straight to them, not to his empty apartment or to his best friend. Things are still a little weird between them all, and Dyson’s not mega-loquacious at the best of times.

He wraps one arm around her, big hand falling on her shoulder. Kenzi turns to press her face against his chest. She had missed him. She’ll stand with Bo against anyone in the world but she had missed him too.

Kenzi whispers, “You give the best hugs.”

On the other side of Dyson, Bo gives a little mock-offended ‘hmph.’

Kenzi says, “Don’t be like that, you give the best kisses.”

Dyson leans back from Kenzi and raises his eyebrow.

“Shut up, like you have room to talk.” She meant, actually, that Bo is the best person to hold you close, kiss your cheek and convince you that you can save the world together. The other parts, Kenzi has her suspicions, but not much practical evidence. She really did mean it the first time she said she was into dudes. It’s only that Bo – seriously – has this effect on people. It’s not even all the succubus thing – Kenzi gets pissed off enough at Bo doing ridiculous shit to know that she’s not enthralled – it’s just that Bo makes the world look that bit shinier.

Dyson raises his free hand placatingly. “No talking, I swear.” He turns his head to look at Bo. “I certainly never had any complaints.”

Oh, this is how they’re playing it today. These two could give a girl whiplash, though Kenzi guesses there are worse fates. They’ve experienced a few of them. The two of them are still staring at each other. Kenzi prods Dyson’s shoulder. “Coy does not become you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kiss the girl already.”

Between Bo’s succubus-sense and Dyson’s wolf stuff there’s not much chance of a miscommunication at this particular level. (At all of the other levels, sure, but as beautiful people who are super into each other’s bodies, not so much.) Dyson leans towards Bo, his arm still around Kenzi’s shoulder.

Kenzi… has not had the varied sex life Bo enjoys. Granted, since living with Bo, she has developed a deeper understanding of the many ways a person can have the kind of sex that shakes ceilings and leaves its participants bruised and satisfied. She still is totally not expecting Dyson’s hand to tighten on her arm; the way he turns to kiss her too is even more of a surprise. Sort of.

He stops to look at her. “Thought I’d try challenging Bo for the title.” He seems uncharacteristically uncertain. Maybe his wolf senses are a little addled after the hits he took this evening.

“I don’t know,” Kenzi says, “maybe I need a more recent comparison.” She stretches across Dyson’s lap to reach Bo’s mouth. Bo smiles and her lips part easily. Kenzi doesn’t know if she is like this with other people. With Dyson, their kisses tend to look like they’re trying to crawl inside each other. Bo is never like that with Kenzi. It’s not over-careful, the way she still is with humans sometimes. She kisses Kenzi the way they do everything else together, the way she just folded Kenzi right into her life.

Dyson moves and it’s really impossible to call the sound he makes anything other than a growl. Kenzi’s kind of into that – it’s an honest noise.

Kenzi twists across his lap. “You’re drooling, wolf-boy.” This isn’t to say she won’t mock him for it.

A dark flush rises on his cheeks. “Blame me?”

She really doesn’t. Bo snakes her hand down and slides her fingers under the edge of Kenzi’s shirt. Kenzi, feeling like she should be spreading some of this around, palms down Dyson’s bare chest, teasing at the waistband of his jeans. He sighs, sounding wrung out already.

Bo says, “Maybe we shouldn’t- you could still be hurt.”

“Really wasn’t my blood, babe,” he says.

Bo prods a still-red gash at his collar-bone. He winces; she frowns. “Hmm.”

“I’m tired,” Dyson says. “Just tired. Doesn’t mean I don’t...”

“Okay,” Bo says. “Okay.” She climbs, halfway over Dyson, so she has her left leg over his right, her right leg over Kenzi’s left. She presses down, hair swinging over her shoulder to brush Kenzi’s face. “We’ll just have to be a little more careful.”

They make a triangle, Kenzi thinks, with Bo on top. She giggles.

Bo grins at her. “What?”

Kenzi looks at Dyson. “I’m just not sure ‘careful’ is the first thing I hear when I think about Bo. At least not when it comes to naked parts. I was there for the great sex-induced blackout last May.”

“Who was...?” Bo starts to ask. “Oh, right. Melech. In my defence: lightning spirit. I’m surprised we kept the blackout to our building.”

Dyson, for reasons Kenzi can’t totally figure out, seems to think this is a good time to plant a hicky on Kenzi’s neck. Bo turns her head to brush a kiss on Kenzi’s lips, and Kenzi hadn’t pictured suddenly being the centre of attention here. Although she has maybe underestimated Bo’s ability to multi-task, as Dyson arches up like he’s been shocked, and Kenzi sure as hell wasn’t the one to do that. She’s way too busy palming the warm curve of Bo’s breast and enjoying the pleased moan this earns her.

Bo rocks down lazily, grinding against Kenzi’s thigh. Kenzi deepens their kiss. Bo protests, “Kenzi, this is...”

Kenzi smiles. “Share and share alike, honey.”

Bo gets it. Bo always gets it. She curls her hand around the back of Kenzi’s neck and pulls her in. ‘Fireworks’ Bo always says, when she’s trying to explain what it tastes like. Kenzi thinks of champagne, the really expensive kind that she’s only ever tasted dishonestly. Kenzi’s normally less interested in the things she’s allowed to have; this has been freely offered but she wants it no less keenly. Or maybe it’s because it’s Bo, who freely offers Kenzi things all the time. Kenzi has never minded giving her something back. She feels the twinge of energy passing from her to Bo.

Bo nudges Dyson’s cheek. “Want a taste?”

Dyson’s eyes turn slitted. “Come here.”

Kenzi can see the way Bo’s eyes shine, the way the glow passes from Bo to Dyson. Kenzi’s glow. It might be the most intimate thing Kenzi’s ever been a part of and she’s not even the one kissing him. “Wow.”

Bo laughs. “Hang on.” She wriggles closer. Kenzi feels the warmth of them both, Dyson hot and restless against her side, Bo pressing down on top. Bo’s kiss this time is fire, the way Dyson burns.

“More nakedness,” Kenzi gasps. “Now.”

“What the lady wants...” Bo murmurs.

Kenzi does a pretty literal fade-to-black sometime between Dyson mouthing his way down to her nipple, and Bo’s fingers crooking inside her. It’s pretty awesome. And she doesn’t feel bad about the brief passing out thing, because Dyson’s a complete lightweight and when Kenzi comes to, she has a wolf mostly asleep on her shoulder.

Bo still looks awake and glowing. She’s a total freak, and Kenzi tells her this.

Bo shrugs. “There are benefits to being me. Like right now, I’m going to help you drag Sleepy here to bed, so you don’t need to wait on the couch all night with him passed out on top of you.”

“And I appreciate that,” Kenzi says.

“I thought you might.”

Bo gets her arm under Dyson’s. “Bed.”


“Man,” Kenzi says, “when he goes, he really goes.”

“Tell me about it.”

They drag him to Bo’s huge bed and drop him onto it. Kenzi looks at him. He’s very much naked again. And still a little bruised: Bo’s mojo doesn’t work that way on him. Kenzi asks, “Feel like talking about the guys wily enough to sneak up on a wolf now?”

Dyson mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Fucking redcaps’ and that’s clearly something they’ll have to discuss later. But now he’s grumbling in an adorably sleepy way, pulling Kenzi down to the bed with one hand and Bo with the other.

Kenzi drapes herself over Bo and Dyson, letting Bo figure out the situation with the blankets. Kenzi asks, “Is it still a puppy pile if only one of us is...?”

Dyson pinches her.

“No ruining the afterglow, man.” Kenzi burrows her way into the pillows. “Seriously.”