That's the point. She hesitated once more, then scrolled.
Male attire.
Her lips curved as she chose a garment for Alo: tailored shorts with a wrap skirt overlay, cut to allow movement, dyed in deep tones that matched the dresses she'd chosen for herself.
Coordinated.
Sprout made a pleased noise.
SYMBOLIC DISPLAY: CLAIM REINFORCED.
When the items arrived, Alo blinked down at the clothing draped over his arm.
"This is… for me?" She nodded, suddenly shy. "I thought you might like it."
He put it on without comment. And then he kissed her.
Once. Twice. Again, lingering and possessive, as if he couldn't quite stop himself.
Theo looked away, heart hammering, absolutely not jealous. No. Definitely not.
"You look good," Luna murmured, fingers brushing the fabric at his waist.
Alo kissed her again for that. And again.
And once more for good measure.
Theo swallowed hard.
Alo was very pleased with his new clothing. He shifted, preening subtly, which made his tail stand up and his ears flick with smugness. He wore the clothes as if they were a war trophy, draped across muscle and movement and purpose. But the real treasure, the one he wouldn't stop looking at, was Luna.
It was very clear to her what Alo wanted: for Theo to see, and to hunger even more, and to want so badly that he could no longer pretend otherwise. So she played along.
She let Alo pull her onto his lap, let him tilt her head back to bare her throat, let him bite not hard, but with intent and only then did she press her body against his, seeking friction, desperate to be known and claimed and seen. She made a small noise when his teeth grazed her skin, and she didn't care that Theo was watching. That was the point.
Alo murmured something in his own tongue, and the rhythm of his hands settled at her waist and slid lower. His tail wound around her thigh, anchoring her in place, and he pulled her close, then closer, wrapping her up in scent and warmth and sharp toothed promise. He didn't look at Theo, but he didn't have to. She could feel Theo's electricity against her back, could sense the tension in the air every time she gasped or whimpered.
Alo kissed her. He kissed her until she lost track of the room, of the other male, of even where she was, until she remembered only the pulse under his skin and the ache in her own.
It was only after that, only when he had stripped her of most of her clothing and pressed his lips to the center of her chest and left a bite there, that he finally acknowledged Theo. Alo made eye contact with his brother, a blatant challenge, and didn't bother hiding the satisfied snarl as he slipped his hand between Luna's thighs.
She arched, hands scrabbling for any purchase, and let out a sound she'd never made before broken, breathless, involuntary. Alo latched onto her breast with his mouth and sucked, and she bucked and whimpered and let him do anything he wanted.
Theo made a noise she couldn't decipher. He hadn't moved, except for the clench of his hands and the dilation of his eyes. He was red from cheekbones to chest. When Alo grunted, "So wet," Luna didn't bother hiding the tremor of anticipation. She met Theo's gaze over Alo's shoulder. She held it, unblinking, as Alo worked her open with his thick fingers, as she made the sounds that made Theo's breath hitch and his jaw clench.
Alo was unsparing, but careful. She was small, and new, and delicate, and he wanted her to remember this as pleasure, not pain. But he was also determined to ruin her for anyone else. He wanted her to cry out, in front of his brother, in front of the stars and the gods and the system itself.
"Mine," she whispered, but she looked at Theo as she said it. "All mine."
Alo growled low in his chest, pride and aggression woven together. When he finally let her tip over the edge, her whole body shook. She reached out blindly, catching Theo's wrist, grounding herself in the only witness that mattered.
Theo looked at her as if she'd cut the sky open. His hand faltered, as if he wanted to run or maybe as if he wanted to touch.
She didn't let go.
Alo licked her clean and rumbled, "Again." He set her gently on the pile of blankets and began stripping away the last of her coverings, exposing skin to firelight and the wild-eyed hunger of both males.
Theo should have looked away. Instead, he dragged his hand down his own stomach, openly shaking. He watched her, watched the way Alo pressed kisses into the soft hollow of her hip and the trembling inside of her knees, watched the way she arched her back and made herself vessel and muse for both of them.
Alo lined himself up against her; she could feel the hot, soft weight of his cock teasing at her entrance, something thick and intimidating and not at all gentle. There was no warning, not really he pressed into her slowly, stretching her around him, and she couldn't keep her back from arching or her toes from curling. She didn't want to. The sensation blotted out thought and replaced it with white fire, burning from the inside out.
She cried out, a real, wordless yowl, then choked on a laugh because Alo's possessive snarl was so over-the-top it sent a tremor through the floor. She glanced sideways and found Theo's gaze fixed, wide and drowning, and then she grinned at him because it was the meanest thing she'd ever done and she loved it.
Alo started to move, deep and slow and hard enough that her whole body jolted with each motion. Theo's breath faltered and she heard the soft, slick sound of his hand working himself from just feet away. He was so close. He was so not allowed.
She wanted to reach out, to grab him, maybe even to kiss him. She wanted to ruin him, too.
Instead, she grabbed Alo's wrist, digging her nails into the span of his hand as he fucked her, letting him know how much she liked it by mewling his name and rocking her hips to take him deeper. "So thick," she gasped, voice high and greedy. "Alo-gods—it's too much"