Triptych

Middle - Part VIII

IN THE morning, Basil's mouth is tender and he sips his tea slowly, gazing forlornly at the pot sitting between the hobs on the stove. He is leaning against the cupboards, half-full mug clasped like a lifeline between curling fingers. By this time of the morning, he's usually finished that pot and is boiling another to pour into his carry-mug and take in the car.

He whines and he moans and he generally makes a big fuss that he had been really looking forward to "real" sex last night and did not get any at all. Gwen scoffs and makes a point of saying that for someone who "got a blowjob" he was being pretty pissy.

"I should have gotten sex," Basil mutters, though it is more like, "I ssssould habe goeen seksh," because his tongue is still heavy and fat, sitting at the bottom of his mouth where it hurts the least.

"Stop complaining," Gwen says. Kalp cannot tell if this is more teasing or if she's serious. Her face is strangely unreadable today.

"A man has two lovers, he should have twice as much sex," Basil points out. "Laws of...physics or sommat, innit?"

Gwen leans over from where she's washing the breakfast dishes and kisses him firmly on the mouth. He yelps, and she pulls back, smirking. "There, see? Hurts too much."

"I can do more than just use my tongue!" Basil protests. Gwen's expression turns positively wicked.

Basil blinks, and then his expression changes to match hers.

Kalp is fairly certain that they've forgotten that he's in the room, and that if Basil's tongue had been up for it, and their morning schedule allowed, there would have been a lot less clothing on them and more on the floor right now.

Kalp — who has been standing on the other side of Gwen, watching — reaches out and runs his fingerpads over her hair, down her cheek to settle gently on her neck, an echo of the motion she made last night. He watches the goosebumps jump into existence all over her skin.

"Kiss me instead," he says.

Gwen turns her head obligingly and does. When Kalp tries to repeat what Basil did to him on her, licking at the seam of her lips to request entrance, she hesitates before she lets him in.

Once she does, though, the kiss immediately turns dirty. Kalp is just as good with his tongue as Basil, and he is determined to prove it. He wants one of those wicked glances turned his way.

When he pulls back, Gwen's mouth is bruised and red, and her eyes have fluttered shut. Her hands, still covered in water and little clouds of dish soap bubbles, are curled against the side of the stainless steel sink. Her chest is bobbing, her lungs filling and deflating at a rapid pace that makes her breasts bounce in a way that Kalp finds extremely arousing.

Kalp looks up at Basil, whose own eyes are wide, pupils large and very black. His cheeks are red and his mouth hangs open a fraction.

Then Basil blinks several times in a row, coming back to himself. He licks his lips, frowns, and says.

"That is totally, totally unfair, innit?"

Kalp smirks, trying to copy the dirty look, and Basil blinks again. It seems to be working.

Gwen clears her throat and opens her eyes and touches her bottom lip with the back of her soapy hand.

"Uh," she says. "Um. Wow."

Basil makes a little whining sound, and if Kalp did not know any better, he would say that Basil was about five seconds away from throwing a full blown temper tantrum. As it is, he stomps his foot like a child, and says, "Totally, totally unfair!"