"I think we're being a little mean to him, Lina." York mumbles against Wash's hip, nipping and sucking new bruises into the skin of his inner thighs. Nothing that won't heal quick with how they're built but- for now? They'll ache a little. Remind David that he's his. He's theirs.

And goddamn if having him whimpering and protesting isn't seven kinds of sexy. "What do you want, Wash?"