Larry playfully rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because no omega has ever heard that from an alpha before. Let me guess, next you're going to tell me that you're not putting your whole finger in, right? Just the tip?"
Kyle grinned right back at him. "No, yeah… That sounds about right. Just the tip, babe." He flashed another wink then thrust his finger into Larry's armpit, breaking the skin and yes, poking the tip inside.
His eyes closed as he frowned in concentration. After a moment, he nodded to himself and used his talon to open the hole wider. Larry stood there stoically, just quietly watching while Kyle went into his skin with a pincer grip and pulled out a small ovoid pellet.
I had to look away when Kyle leaned back in and licked the wound. I knew he was healing it… but having that knowledge didn’t mean it was an image I wanted to carry in my head.
I looked back right as Larry’s eyes flew open. Kyle held his hand out to show us what I immediately recognized was a tracking device. He offered it to Larry. "Would you like to do the honors of crushing it?"
Larry nodded grimly. "Damn straight I would. Thank you for offering." He leaned in to give Kyle a kiss before taking the bug and crushing it against the side of his finger with his thumbnail. When that didn't do too much to destroy it, he set it on the sink and smashed it with a bottle of mouthwash.
Larry was breathing hard as he poured three years of frustration into destroying the damn thing. When he was done, he stood back with a heaving chest and slumped shoulders. The mouthwash dropped to the floor as Larry's hand went slack.
Kyle slipped an arm around his waist and pressed his cheek against Larry's. "I reckon you've killed it, mate. How about we flush it down the drain and have done with it?" Larry looked in his hand and swatted the broken bits to the floor of the shower in a wide arc. We all watched as they circled the drain a few times before being sucked away into the RV’s tank. I figured I’d ask Sandy and Dottie to dump the tank before we left, for good measure.
Kyle rubbed his hands together. "That's done then. Let's go see about that bush telly I didn't get a chance to finish telling you about. If it's warm enough, maybe we can sleep under the stars instead of bunking in here with our friends."
That sounded good to me. We turned off the water and dressed as quickly as possible before making our way outside. A ridiculously bright outside light was on, lighting up the entire area with its mega-wattage. At some point during our shower, Sandy had changed into a soft yellow one-piece romper that went all the way to his knees. He was struggling with what looked like a tent about ten yards from the RV.
“I probably shouldn’t find this funny, right?” Kyle whispered in a choked voice as we took in the scene. Sandy had half the tent collapsed over his left shoulder and entire head. We had a full view of his round torso and wriggling butt as he fought with a tent pole. Fluffy pink bunny slippers completed the picture.
Dottie was standing over him, waving her hand and sloshing what looked like an overfilled martini glass while she tried to read instructions aloud from a sheet of paper. That is, if one could consider barking instructions that were liberally sprinkled with curse words while squinting at the guide to be reading it.
After I found my voice, I leaned into Kyle. “Probably not, but I’ll definitely be laughing later,” I responded in a sotto voice. “Come on, let’s go give them a hand.”
“A hand? I think they need more than that. Those stakes are never going into that hard dirt with his bare hands. I’ve got this. I can pitch a tent in my sleep.” While I resisted an adolescent snort at pitching tents in his sleep, Larry strode past us.
I had to bite my cheek when he went directly to Sandy, pulling the tent away to reveal a shiny bald head that looked about two sizes too small for the man’s extra-large body. It shouldn’t have been so funny, but fuck me if it wasn’t. Especially with those blasted slippers. Larry seemed oblivious and was speaking kindly to the older man while he discretely took over.
“Fuck me. He’s going to make us look like a pair of dickheads. Let’s get to it, mate.” Kyle flashed a teasing wink and ran up to Dottie, startling her into sloshing more of her drink when he caught her up in a hug from behind and lifted her off her feet. “What’s going on out here, my girl? A man can’t take a shower without the two of you getting into trouble, eh?”
“Put me down, you brat.” Dottie wheezed out a laugh. “What choice did we have? The pheromones leaking out of that bathroom were strong enough to choke a horse. Not that I had a problem with it, but Sandy and I aren’t those types of friends, dollface. It started to get awkward when the scent began affecting us. Besides, you three need someplace to fuck… I mean, sleep, tonight. And when I say sleep, please know I still mean fuck but I’m attempting to be a lady.”
“Ha! Some lady.” Sandy cackled then looked over his shoulder with a dramatic shudder. “Lawd Gawd, do not even joke about you and me, Dorothy. Not even if you wore a strap-on and slipped me a mickey.” He batted his eyes at Kyle. “Now as for you, hon… mhmm. We could’ve been a thing but you just had to go and meet your mates. Oh, well. Your loss, honeyyy. Now why don’t you help your Uncle Sandy up, hmm? The ground is so much lower than it used to be.”
Larry let out a high-pitched braying sound, which was completely adorable. He slapped his thigh a couple times while he tried to get control of himself. Except that he was still snickering when he rested a hand on Sandy's shoulder.
"Holy shit. You didn't tell us we were getting an uncle too. Let me guess, you have special candy in your pocket with my name on it if I sit on your lap and act real sweet?"
Sandy had been on one knee, trying to push himself up. He fell back on his round ass before popping back up into a seated position, holding his gut as he laughed. He finally calmed down enough after a few minutes to let Larry and Kyle pull him to his feet.
Sandy looked back and forth between my two men, fanning his face with a hand. "Sweet Mother Cher, please have mercy on this wee gay boy. My heart will never survive these newly adopted nephews of mine."
Dottie cackled and managed to slosh more drink onto the ground. "Boys? Listen to Mama Dot, ‘kay? That ain't no Tootsie Roll in his pocket. And yes, it's probably quite happy to see you. Watch out for Uncle Sandy and as Nancy Reagan suggested, just say no to any candy offers."
Sandy blew her a raspberry while slapping a hand against his ass as he took a step in her direction. "Kiss my big fat candy loving bootie, you old hag. You're just jealous because the boys already like me better."
"Why you dirty old piece of three-day-old dog shit, what did you say to me?" Dottie pulled herself up to her full height of five foot nothing—if one was being generous with her height—and stuck her chest out. "You wish they liked you better. Take it back, you filthy windbag. You don't get to be catty, because I'm more lovable."
I made a wide berth around the bickering pair and went to finish setting up the tent with Larry. My intention had been to blend into the shadows while the rest of them interacted, but Larry scooted right over to my side. "Let me give you a hand, the two of us will make short work of the job. I can get the back stakes in the ground if you want to handle the front."