Georgie presented his pine cone haul in his outstretched t-shirt, glowing under Casey’s praise. There hadn’t been much else dry enough to go in his journal, and certainly nothing small enough to be squeezed between the pages. A piece of twine kept his collection enclosed and it could only stretch so far.

The tent was up, positioned on the highest of ground in the lumpy zone between trees. A homemade flag protruded perpendicular to the muddy ground, a relic he remembered fondly. Branches cleaved from crumbling trees, and the driest of Georgie’s pine cones, made up the start of their campfire. The ground was too damp to collect from yet.

On the outside, everything appeared just as it should be. A fizzle filled the air, though, a sense he seemed to have developed in his mate maturity. The tension, bouncing like bolts of lighting between the twins, stood Georgie’s hairs up. Cove had not even acknowledged his return. He refused to make eye contact with Casey as he focused on his own task of sharpening the single knife he’d brought strapped to his side. Even his crouch was faced away from their camp, looking out amongst the crowded trees. Later he would use it to slice apart whatever they caught for supper.

“I think we should go find some more firewood,” Casey murmured against his temple.

Georgie blinked curiously. There was enough firewood to keep them warm overnight. And pine cones aplenty!

“I think,” Casey pressed on, “that just you and I should go find more firewood.”

“Oh!” Georgie gasped. “Yes!”

A chuckle pre-empted his jovial shushing, pretending to cover Georgie’s mouth and clutch his head. The teasing touch dissolved into wrapping himself around him, coating him in his hefty alpha warmth and scent. It was heavy and lovely and he could melt under it, droop into Casey’s arms on a sigh that deflated him.

“What’s for dinner?”

Casey blew a long, aggravated, breath down his nose. Trust Cove to choose now to participate. “Aren’t you gonna hunt?”

“By myself?” Cove sniffed.

Dredging up the last of his good-nature, Casey teased, “You want to tag-team rabbits?”

“I didn’t realise I was invited to be your servant.”

A flex in Casey’s neck was all that showed of his frustration. “I’ll hunt, you chill here, then.” Fingertips danced down Georgie’s spine to his tail bone. His tone lightened again, chuckling into the crown of his head, “Wanna come watch me chase squirrels?”

Georgie tilted into him, grinning. “I’m craving venison.”

The challenge lit his ivy eyes. Cove stood from his crouch. They locked looks, childish energy charging up between them. A deer was worthy of teaming up.

“I’m not refusing my mate anything.”

“I wouldn’t,” Cove offered, the most agreeable he’d been all day. “Might even be willing to help you.”

“Might?”

“As long as you promise not to show off for him.”

“I’ll be staying here,” Georgie said with palms raised. “I’m no help in a hunt and someone needs to filter some water and chop veggies.”

Casey snorted. “Also known as: taking a nap and doodling in his notebook.” He said it with a knowing beam to his brother. Cove didn’t mirror it, but there was a twinkle in his eyes he couldn’t dull with stoicism.

Georgie flailed a discarded firewood stick in their direction. “Go catch me a deer!” he demanded through badly-restrained giggles. What was wrong with taking a nap if there was plenty of time for it? They had to sniff out their prey before they could even attempt to take it down and who knows how far the nearest deer was from camp.

The twins backed away in mock caution. Identical grins. A twitch to signal the readiness to run and they both turned, leaping out of their clothes and onto all fours, slaloming between trees and effectively scaring away any animal that may be taking a patter through the forest.

Already far into the distance he heard joint joyous howls, it brought a soft smile to his face. Both his soulmates working in tandem to catch his dinner, it was the most settled and serene he had felt since their birthday. Peace, even if temporary, was all he wanted. If only he knew how to extend it…

He heaped the fire and fanned it, egging on the flames until their firewood supplies were conveniently diminished. Next he checked on the bedding laid out inside the tent – all arranged already. Their food containers were all secure as well. Satisfied in the safety of their camp with his wandering away, he took the water filtering pack and loped off to find a tasty-looking stream. Usually the alphas (or, in the last six months, just one alpha) carried bottles of pre-filtered water for them. On this occasion, it had been forgotten in the surprise of Cove agreeing to join. Hand-inked maps burned to his memory led him through the undergrowth, seeking out all the available trickles.

He filled his own water bottle, then the few empty containers and pans they had. It took a few journeys and still left him plenty of time to lounge before he needed to start on the meal prep. It was a fine day despite the damp. He slipped off his shoes and slid inside the tent backwards with his head poking out of the entrance to stare up at the clouds. It wasn’t as fun to guess their shapes without Casey. Instead he thought about his love tearing through the trees, stretching his speed and strength, side-by-side with his brother. It brought goosebumps to think of alphas in their element. How blessed he was to have a mate – two mates – of such power.

The clouds blocked the receding sunlight fully as he dozed. When twilight arrived, he convinced himself to clamber back up and get to chopping. Not long after his knife had stilled, a pair of wolves trampled their way back to camp carrying sacks of freshly sliced and skinned meat.

They cooked far too much because there was far too much collected from the deer, well beyond what they could safely store. The twins put in the majority of the effort, eating feats that would be reminisced over in future nights by the fire. Georgie didn’t kid himself about keeping up, but he did pretty well for his bodyweight.

“Looks like we really need more firewood now,” Casey groaned.

“Come on.” Georgie took his hand and pulled. There was no chance to actually lift him from his prone position with his own muscle but Georgie’s encouragement raised his upper body like a creature from a horror flick, bursting out of the grave.

Casey took a deep breath and clutched his stomach. “Coming, my mate.” It took him two attempts to climb to his knees and then his feet.

This time, Cove didn’t complain about not being included. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, splayed on his side and watching the dying fire. The embers would soon be out and their camp swept with darkness. This did not hurry him to bed just yet.

“Back in a bit,” Georgie promised him. He didn’t reply.

He and Casey lumbered away in an almost random direction. It didn’t matter. All they needed was privacy… and maybe a few dry twigs if they came across them.

Beneath the cover of night and boughs, Georgie fell to his knees, clinging to Casey’s hips to soften the landing. His shorts were slip-on, no belt or buttons or zips, perfect for shifting in and out – and perfect for Georgie to access his mate’s member unhindered.

“Geor-”

He snatched them down to his knees, knocking them forward and forcing Casey to crouch a little, bringing the tip of him close enough to take it into his mouth. A gasping, quickly cut-off, noise came from his throat. Sucking the hot head first, Georgie watched him through his lashes, the little he could see of his face in the shadows, then inch by inch he swallowed him deeper.

It seemed almost ironic that after all this time avoiding these parts, he was now trying to fit as much in his mouth without being able to see past the end of his nose in the dark. He was following the heat of his mate’s body, the scent of alpha, the shape of him sliding to the back of his mouth. The restrained noises were stuttering and Casey reached back to grasp at bark, steadying himself and his hips from the twitches that betrayed the urge to thrust into him.

It was addictive, the feeling of his pleasure roiling through his body, the desperately controlled noises, the taste of his soulmate riding back and forth over his tongue, precum lapped as soon as it could drip.

“Oh, G-” A second time he couldn’t finish his name. Casey slammed back against the tree, pulling almost free of his lips, and spilled.