So Much Better Than You Know (AKB)
Aug. 2nd, 2009 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thecatevariSo. I wrote this because it was in my head and I wanted to and it was going to make ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beanside and nilchance (hopefully) happy. But I can't post it over on poisontaster because it's either spoilery or AU, depending on how you look at it. But I figure this LJ's fair game, right? Riiight. :)
So. AKB universe. Jeremy Sisto/Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Smutty. An spoilery or AU, depending on how you look at it. *coughs*
Jensen's nervous.
He guesses they all are. He can tell that Jeff and Jeremy want this so much—want it to work, want Jensen to be okay with it, want not to damage the messy thing between them any more than it's already been. Jensen's worried about performance, being good, of course, because that's the nature of the beast, but he's surprisingly not worried about Jeff's approval or Jeremy's. Not…exactly.
I. I don't. I've only really done this once. Or not…with only my one master before.
Jensen, you don't have to do this. Not today, not at all. Just say the word.
No, I want to. I'm just…
Nervous? Heh. Yeah. Me, too.
"Seriously?" Jeremy asks, a nervous hitch in his voice as Jensen comes to stand behind him and tugs gently at the bloused-out love-handles of his dress shirt, coaxing it from his pants. "Seriously?"
Sprawled out on the bed, already naked, already hard, Jeff shrugs. "You said this was my show." His fingers make a lazy, stroking pass around his dick, jaw tightening as the pleasure rolls through him. "So give me a show, Jer."
Jensen slides his fingers under Jeremy's shirt, spreading them out like wings across the warmth of Jeremy's sides. Jeremy's ribs are heaving, smooth skin textured with goose bumps as Jensen smoothes his fingers up, eyes closed and letting himself think of nothing, experience nothing, outside the slow exploration of Jeremy's body.
He can smell Jeremy, too—moreso as Jeremy heats up and starts to sweat—clean bite of soap, spice of aftershave or cologne, lemon balm smell of the product he uses to vainly try and tame his curls. Knowing he has Jeff's permission, Jensen leans in closer, buries his nose there, at the nape of Jeremy's neck, and breathes in at the same time he finds the rough peaked furls of Jeremy's nipples.
Jeremy makes a choked off noise, "—gnngh—" and shudders from heels to crown, leaning his shoulders back against Jensen at the same time he arches out in display.
Jeff chuckles, a sound like dark chocolate tastes. "He's good, isn't he?"
"I…" Jeremy swallows, shudders again as Jensen rakes his nails gently back down Jeremy's torso. "I take back all my complaints about…about how much he cost."
Jensen makes quick work of the buttons of Jeremy's shirt, letting it billow down, off Jeremy's shoulders and…yeah, Jeff has a type. Jeremy looks much thinner out of his shirt, something his clothes hide because of the breadth of his upper body. Jensen tastes his way down Jeremy's spine, teeth teasing the vertebrae. Jeremy's hands flutter, but Jensen didn't undo the shirt's cuffs and Jeremy's wrists are trapped in cloth, a tether Jensen draws tight as he sinks slowly to his knees.
"Jensen—"
"Jensen's just following orders," Jeff interrupts, that sweet-not-sweet richness still in his voice. "You wouldn't want to impede a slave in the performance of his duty, would you, Jer?"
"Oh, God, no," Jeremy replies, with an admirable amount of sarcasm still in his tone. "By all means."
Jensen nudges Jeremy closer to the bed's foot and then turns him. Jeff gets to his knees, takes hold of the twist of shirt with one hand and bends Jeremy's head back with the other. The sound of Jeff's mouth latching on to Jeremy's bare throat is loud, and so is the moan Jeremy lets out in reaction, body bowing tighter between Jensen's hands and Jeff's.
Jensen slips Jeremy's belt from the tongue, from the buckle, from the loops on his trousers, letting them sag on sharp-boned hips. Jeremy's got less hair on his chest and belly than Jeff, treasure-trail sparse and soft as Jensen tongues up it, traces the flattened coin of Jeremy's belly button. Jensen doesn't have the patience to draw it out, though, mouth watering for cock.
Jeremy's pants fall in an easy heap soon as Jensen slips the button and lowers the zip. Jensen leans in again, nosing beneath the hard jut of Jeremy's cock, pressing his face to the damp cotton of Jeremy's shorts and the softness of his sac underneath. Men smell so different than women, taste so different. They feel familiar to him in a way the few women he's been with have not.
Jensen's stomach flutters and hums as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of Jeremy's boxer-briefs and drags them down, revealing the crisp paleness of skin that never sees the sun, soft blue veins he traces with his tongue, marks lightly with his teeth.
Jeff is murmuring to Jeremy, words for them alone, too soft for Jensen to hear, except for the breathless, moaned yes, yes of Jeremy's replies. Jensen doesn't feel left out, though—can't—not when he's the one that gets to wrap his tongue around the thick, warm crown of Jeremy's cock and taste the oily bitterness of his want.
Shudders run through Jeremy's thighs, a feedback loop pulsing like Morse code from Jensen's working tongue to Jeremy, to Jensen's spread palms and back, a building pleasure. Jeff's hand—and Jensen knows his master's touch, even with his eyes closed—falls onto Jensen's head, ruffling through his hair, across his hollowed cheek.
Jeff taps lightly behind Jensen's ear before he starts to bend Jeremy back even further, bringing him down onto the bed. Jeremy seizes and flails a little bit before he realizes Jeff and Jensen have him, easing him to the mattress, still tight as a wire when they get him down, cradled by Jeff's thighs.
Jensen eases his mouth down, licking Jeremy along the shaft, at the base, mouthing Jeremy's balls as he reaches for the lube concealed along the bed's base. Jeff must have freed Jeremy's hands, because they both skid across Jensen's scalp to grip down near the nape. "Suck me," Jeremy growls, fingers clenching and unclenching in Jensen's hair without tugging him closer. "Fuck, please, Jensen…suck me."
Jensen pushes Jeremy's thighs wider, slicking lube along the tight-smooth ridge of skin back. Jeremy twists and jerks, fingers spasming on Jensen's skull and his voice spiraling out of control before Jeff muffles it—with a kiss or his hand, Jensen doesn't know. He's occupied himself, circling Jeremy's hole, coaxing it to open, while he lets Jeremy guide him back to his cock.
Jeremy's tight, resistant—to a point where Jensen's afraid he'll hurt Jeremy and this isn't going to work at all. Then Jeff spanks Jeremy's abs sharply—a smack of sound that Jensen feels in his own cock and ass—and snarls, "Open up."
Another one of those full-body shivers racks Jeremy and when it passes, Jensen can feel Jeremy relax, settle, like one of Jared's horses when they're all pent-up and skittish. Jensen pushes in with one finger, feeling Jeremy shaking, feeling Jeremy cling, like Jensen's finger is all he has to hold onto in the world.
Jensen stops sucking Jeremy long enough to press his mouth wetly to Jeremy's thigh, the hairs rough and burning against Jensen's tender lips. Jeremy's muscles jitter like water on a hot skillet, hips writhing up in wordless quest for better contact.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" The satisfaction in Jeff's voice traces down Jensen's spine like a caressing fingertip, making him whimper against Jeremy's skin. All at once, he becomes aware of his own erection, swinging heavy and low between his outspread thighs. "Think about what it'll feel like when it's his cock in you."
Jeremy groans.
"I'm going to watch him fuck you. Watch you take his cock. And you are going to take it, Jeremy. Hard as I want, for as long as I want."
Jensen's not crazy about the taste of lube, but it's a minor annoyance as he laps down, sucking gently at Jeremy's perineum. Above the smell of the lube, Jeremy smells so ripe, hot and squirming, wet with their mingled juices.
"He's trained for this, remember? Trained by the best. I bet he could make it last all night, if I told him to. How would you like that, Jer? Think you could take it, Jensen pounding that ass all night long?"
Jeremy groans again, a sound Jensen can feel all the way in his mouth and fingers where he and Jeremy are linked.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Jensen can't tell what Jeff does to Jeremy, but he can feel the effect as Jeremy shudders again, clenching tight around Jensen's fingers. "You want me to watch you get fucked, see what a cock-slut you are."
Jensen eases a third finger into Jeremy and now there's no resistance beyond the normal elasticity of the muscle; Jeremy rides Jensen's hand desperately, wantonly, chasing an orgasm Jeff's nowhere near letting him have.
"What you seem to forget, sweetheart, is that ass is mine."
Jensen and Jeremy jerk at the same time, which is probably the only thing that saves Jensen from getting his nose broken when Jeremy bucks.
"And the only cock you're getting tonight is happening on my say-so."
Jeremy whines and bears down again. Jensen lifts his head. Jeremy's head is thrown back on Jeff's shoulder, a blooming sprinkle of bruises welting dark on his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Jeff's eyes catch Jensen's, and his face softens for a moment, a question surfacing through the heat.
Jensen's glad that it's dim enough to hide his blush, the dull ache of his cock throbbing harder as he stiffens even more. If Jeff doesn't get on with this soon, he's going to need Jeff to put a ring on him.
It's not an unattractive thought, but Jensen would rather be perfect the first time around. So it's a relief when Jeff looks back at Jeremy and asks, "Is that what you want? Should I let my boy fuck you?"
Jeremy makes a noise, indistinguishable as words.
"Nuh-uh." The teasing in Jeff's voice reminds Jensen all over again how much there is between Jeff and Jeremy, years of history and love, layers of emotion that Jensen can't even start to pick apart. "Not good enough, Merton. You don't get something for nothing; you gotta ask for it."
Jeremy twists between them; patiently, they force him spread-eagle again. Jensen rolls his fingertip lightly across the nub of Jeremy's prostate, a tease rather than a torture.
"Ask for it, Jer." Jeff's voice is completely inflexible, the no-nonsense tone that always makes Jensen want to go to his belly. But it's not his turn. Not yet. "All you have to say is please."
"Jeff—" Jeremy sounds like he's been wandering through the desert without water, a desperate, frog-like croak.
"Just say please."
"Please."
Jensen didn't realize he was holding his breath until Jeremy whispers the word.
"Please, Jeff."
Jeff's breath sighs out too, mostly satisfied, but with a note underneath it that reminds Jensen that Jeff was nervous about this. "Yeah. Yeah, come here, sweetheart."
Jensen knows how to follow a cue; he pulls out and stands up while Jeremy and Jeff fumble on the bed, getting Jeremy turned around. When Jeremy's on his knees in front of him, Jeff holds Jeremy's face between his hands for a long time, just looking at him. The kiss, when it comes, looks almost accidental, a chance brush of their lips before it combusts, turning deeper, hungrier, Jeremy's hands clutching at Jeff's shoulders, Jeff's fingers digging bruises into Jeremy's waist.
They chose to share this with him, Jensen thinks, bending to pump more lube from the jar, gritting his teeth as he slicks himself. Jeff didn't have to, Jeremy didn't need to agree. Watching them kiss, Jensen can't help the glow that infuses through his skin, different—separate—from the sex-ache and warmth of arousal; though no one's hand is on him but his own, Jensen feels desired, wanted, beautiful as he hasn't felt in years, since he was young.
Jensen kneels on the bed, a little amazed by himself as he puts his hands on the backs of Jeremy's thighs, skimming up the skin, hooking briefly in the soft join of legs to groin and then higher, palming Jeremy's ass, squeezing.
"No condom." Jeff's voice makes them both jump, three of them entwined together in a single loop. "Gonna let him fill you up, Jer,"
Jeremy moans against Jeff's skin and kilts his hips up, back arching.
Jensen's hips stutter, cock dragging as if guided along Jeremy's cleft. It's not forbidden to fuck an owner—a male owner—but it is definitely frowned upon, an embarrassment that could ruin an owner's reputation…and a slave's life.
He's done this before, with Lord Hutton. What he has with Jeff…it's so much better than that, so much better than Jensen dreamed he could have. He can't let fear mess it up now. He either believes in his master or…or what is he?
"Jensen?"
"You gonna make me beg too, man?" Jeremy looks over the peak of his shoulder at Jensen, smile tugging his mouth crooked. Jeremy stretches long—longer—slip-slide-nudging against Jensen. "Or am I not pretty enough for you?"
Jensen gets that it's a joke, the sarcasm all Jeff's friends throw around so casually, so little of what's said at all serious. Still, like his presence here, it means something that they—that Jeremy—jokes with him. He's not much good at kidding back, but jokes aren't what's called for in this situation.
Jeremy's head drops when Jensen thrusts against him, slow, sensuous drag. Jensen has much more experience being fucked than otherwise, but when Jeff leans up to spread Jeremy wide with both hands, Jensen feels the appeal, feels…desire.
"Come on, Jensen. You see how bad he wants it."
Despite the fingering, Jeremy's still tight, pushing in. Jensen chokes out a noise and so does Jeremy and Jeff's fingers crush Jensen's wrist.
"That's it. Fuck into him. God, the two of you."
Jensen wants to keep his eyes open, knows he should keep his eyes open, follow the visual cues, but it's too much, shaky and drawn up tight as he slides into Jeremy. He does feel young all over again, like in the first years of his training before he learned control. At the same time, he desperately doesn't want to ruin this for Jeff, after being allowed to share this with him.
Jensen breathes out through his mouth and pushes aside the awareness of his own body, his own need. He trusts Jeff to give him release when the time is right, when he's earned it, and if not, it doesn't matter much. Jeremy. Jeremy is what matters tonight.
Jeremy doesn't make it any easier on Jensen, though, rocking back onto Jensen's cock, squeezing him, deep inside, and all his moans muffled by Jeff's mouth over his. There's been no drugs and no booze—not tonight, Jeff wanted them all sober, lucid. Jensen feels plenty high, though, eyes closed, trying to breathe, trying to hang on…
"Wait. Wait."
Obedience is drummed into him, even while under the influence. Jensen freezes, Jeremy freezes and the bed shakes as Jeff moves, untangling himself. Jeremy's shaking, inner muscles fluttering around Jensen with the effort not to move, not to take more. When Jensen cracks his eyes open, Jeremy's head is down, fingers fisted tight in the rucked blankets. Jeff is crawling off the bed entirely.
"Jensen." Jensen skin shudders when Jeff touches him, another dimension of sensation.
"Sir," Jensen squeaks out, a little too scrambled to remember Jeff in this place where he's only Master, utter and complete.
Jeff growls, but only in hunger as he jags their mouths together, hard wet crush. At the same time, Jeff's hand skims down Jensen's chest, across his belly and down, until he's gripping Jensen at the root, holding him firm.
"Christ, how you look. How both of you look."
"Jeff," Jeremy groans, hitching back. "Please, man. I'm dying, please."
Jeff's thumb rubs across them both where they're joined together, lazy, leisurely. Jeremy moans again and arches; Jensen lets his head fall onto Jeff's shoulder, muffling himself against the skin, breathing in Jeff's smell.
"Yeah, all right. I got you, Jer. I'll take care of you both." He kisses Jensen again, messier this time, less controlled. "You need my fingers, sweetheart, or you think you can take me whole?"
Jensen jerks and Jeff's fingers tighten, maybe the only thing that keeps Jensen from shooting right then. "I can," Jensen stammers, unable to even get all the words out. "I can," he affirms again.
"Good boy."
Jensen's fingers dig into Jeremy's sides when Jeff pushes into him. He can feel Jeff in more than the stretch of his ass; he feels him everywhere, like he's splintering apart, like he's shattering apart, held together only by the circle of Jeff's restraining fingers around his cock. Jensen's teeth bite into his lower lip and Jeremy cries out as if the sounds welling up in Jensen's throat are passing through him and into Jeremy.
This isn't what Jeff planned, but it feels right, Jeff driving into him, driving him into Jeremy. It feels right to have Jeff inside him, owning him, guiding him, using him to please Jeremy, whom he loves. He likes Jeff's hand around him, holding him, rubbing fiction against his dick, his balls, but he doesn't need it anymore, uncertainty driven out of him by the pound of Jeff inside him—through him, and into Jeremy.
"You're so good, sweetheart. Jensen. My Jensen." Jeff's hands pull him back again and again. "Just a little longer. Hang on just a little more. Can you reach around? I want you to take hold of Jeremy's cock. He needs it. Don't you, Jer?"
"F-fuck you," Jeremy stammers. "You sadistic, oh…oh…" Jeremy ruts into Jensen's hand, cock as needy as Jeff promised. "Oh—"
"Keep pushing, Merton. Maybe I won't let you come at all." The vicious snap of Jeff's hips translates through Jensen, filling him, filling them both. "Or maybe I'll just find a better use for your mouth."
Jeremy's breath hitches and his whole body quakes and tightens, scalds of his come pulsing through Jensen's fingers. The feel of Jeremy's orgasm, the change in friction on his cock drags Jensen to the edge all over again.
"Master." Not the right word. Not the right name. "J-jeff. Jeff—" Jensen tries to hold back, be still, but Jeff's still in him, moving—driving—hard and relentless, deep, sweet rub that builds in Jensen's stomach, his cock.
"It's okay, Jensen." Jeff lets go of Jensen's shoulders to smooth his hands the length of Jensen's back. Robbed of that support, Jensen's weight falls more on Jeremy, who just falls. The three of them sink to the mattress, Jensen whimpering into Jeremy's shoulder blades as Jeff rides him down. Jeff's thumb traces around the circumference of Jensen's cock. "Let go. It's okay.
"I love you, it's okay."
Jensen's coming before Jeff even finishes the words, screaming against Jeremy's spine, body wringing so tautly he can't tell pleasure from pain.
It goes on for a very long time.
So long that Jensen's still twitching when Jeff pulls out of him, deep, aching emptiness. The threesomes—and moresomes—that Jensen's been a part of weren't like this; it's not reflex or training that makes him cling tighter to Jeremy, but it is something he does without thinking.
Jeremy doesn't seem to mind, though, grumble-snuffling under his breath and curling tighter against Jensen in return. Jensen knows that this—tonight—is about Jeremy. Jeff, of course, but Jeremy. But he can't hide from himself how good it feels to be in between them, warm and lazy-boned.
But even that thought brings the reminder that he is the slave in this scenario. Struggling with his sluggish limbs, Jensen eases his softened cock from Jeremy and tries to remember how to get up.
Jeff's hand falls on Jensen's hip like God's fist, defeating his effort. "Where you going, Jen?"
"I… I mean, we, need to clean up." Jensen's tongue is as clumsy as his body.
Jeremy groans, wriggling around until he and Jensen are nose to nose, his arm joining Jeff's in pinning Jensen to the mattress. "In case you hadn't noticed, we kind of like it dirty around here."
Jeremy grins, shyer and younger than Jensen's used to seeing from him, and he kisses Jensen lazily, licking, sucking, slipping his tongue between Jensen's lips with easy sweetness. It's the first time Jeremy's kissed him, Jensen thinks, as Jeff nuzzles at Jensen's nape. He has to remind himself because it doesn't feel like the first time.
It feels like they've been doing this forever.
beanside and nilchance (hopefully) happy. But I can't post it over on poisontaster because it's either spoilery or AU, depending on how you look at it. But I figure this LJ's fair game, right? Riiight. :)So. AKB universe. Jeremy Sisto/Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Smutty. An spoilery or AU, depending on how you look at it. *coughs*
Jensen's nervous.
He guesses they all are. He can tell that Jeff and Jeremy want this so much—want it to work, want Jensen to be okay with it, want not to damage the messy thing between them any more than it's already been. Jensen's worried about performance, being good, of course, because that's the nature of the beast, but he's surprisingly not worried about Jeff's approval or Jeremy's. Not…exactly.
I. I don't. I've only really done this once. Or not…with only my one master before.
Jensen, you don't have to do this. Not today, not at all. Just say the word.
No, I want to. I'm just…
Nervous? Heh. Yeah. Me, too.
"Seriously?" Jeremy asks, a nervous hitch in his voice as Jensen comes to stand behind him and tugs gently at the bloused-out love-handles of his dress shirt, coaxing it from his pants. "Seriously?"
Sprawled out on the bed, already naked, already hard, Jeff shrugs. "You said this was my show." His fingers make a lazy, stroking pass around his dick, jaw tightening as the pleasure rolls through him. "So give me a show, Jer."
Jensen slides his fingers under Jeremy's shirt, spreading them out like wings across the warmth of Jeremy's sides. Jeremy's ribs are heaving, smooth skin textured with goose bumps as Jensen smoothes his fingers up, eyes closed and letting himself think of nothing, experience nothing, outside the slow exploration of Jeremy's body.
He can smell Jeremy, too—moreso as Jeremy heats up and starts to sweat—clean bite of soap, spice of aftershave or cologne, lemon balm smell of the product he uses to vainly try and tame his curls. Knowing he has Jeff's permission, Jensen leans in closer, buries his nose there, at the nape of Jeremy's neck, and breathes in at the same time he finds the rough peaked furls of Jeremy's nipples.
Jeremy makes a choked off noise, "—gnngh—" and shudders from heels to crown, leaning his shoulders back against Jensen at the same time he arches out in display.
Jeff chuckles, a sound like dark chocolate tastes. "He's good, isn't he?"
"I…" Jeremy swallows, shudders again as Jensen rakes his nails gently back down Jeremy's torso. "I take back all my complaints about…about how much he cost."
Jensen makes quick work of the buttons of Jeremy's shirt, letting it billow down, off Jeremy's shoulders and…yeah, Jeff has a type. Jeremy looks much thinner out of his shirt, something his clothes hide because of the breadth of his upper body. Jensen tastes his way down Jeremy's spine, teeth teasing the vertebrae. Jeremy's hands flutter, but Jensen didn't undo the shirt's cuffs and Jeremy's wrists are trapped in cloth, a tether Jensen draws tight as he sinks slowly to his knees.
"Jensen—"
"Jensen's just following orders," Jeff interrupts, that sweet-not-sweet richness still in his voice. "You wouldn't want to impede a slave in the performance of his duty, would you, Jer?"
"Oh, God, no," Jeremy replies, with an admirable amount of sarcasm still in his tone. "By all means."
Jensen nudges Jeremy closer to the bed's foot and then turns him. Jeff gets to his knees, takes hold of the twist of shirt with one hand and bends Jeremy's head back with the other. The sound of Jeff's mouth latching on to Jeremy's bare throat is loud, and so is the moan Jeremy lets out in reaction, body bowing tighter between Jensen's hands and Jeff's.
Jensen slips Jeremy's belt from the tongue, from the buckle, from the loops on his trousers, letting them sag on sharp-boned hips. Jeremy's got less hair on his chest and belly than Jeff, treasure-trail sparse and soft as Jensen tongues up it, traces the flattened coin of Jeremy's belly button. Jensen doesn't have the patience to draw it out, though, mouth watering for cock.
Jeremy's pants fall in an easy heap soon as Jensen slips the button and lowers the zip. Jensen leans in again, nosing beneath the hard jut of Jeremy's cock, pressing his face to the damp cotton of Jeremy's shorts and the softness of his sac underneath. Men smell so different than women, taste so different. They feel familiar to him in a way the few women he's been with have not.
Jensen's stomach flutters and hums as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of Jeremy's boxer-briefs and drags them down, revealing the crisp paleness of skin that never sees the sun, soft blue veins he traces with his tongue, marks lightly with his teeth.
Jeff is murmuring to Jeremy, words for them alone, too soft for Jensen to hear, except for the breathless, moaned yes, yes of Jeremy's replies. Jensen doesn't feel left out, though—can't—not when he's the one that gets to wrap his tongue around the thick, warm crown of Jeremy's cock and taste the oily bitterness of his want.
Shudders run through Jeremy's thighs, a feedback loop pulsing like Morse code from Jensen's working tongue to Jeremy, to Jensen's spread palms and back, a building pleasure. Jeff's hand—and Jensen knows his master's touch, even with his eyes closed—falls onto Jensen's head, ruffling through his hair, across his hollowed cheek.
Jeff taps lightly behind Jensen's ear before he starts to bend Jeremy back even further, bringing him down onto the bed. Jeremy seizes and flails a little bit before he realizes Jeff and Jensen have him, easing him to the mattress, still tight as a wire when they get him down, cradled by Jeff's thighs.
Jensen eases his mouth down, licking Jeremy along the shaft, at the base, mouthing Jeremy's balls as he reaches for the lube concealed along the bed's base. Jeff must have freed Jeremy's hands, because they both skid across Jensen's scalp to grip down near the nape. "Suck me," Jeremy growls, fingers clenching and unclenching in Jensen's hair without tugging him closer. "Fuck, please, Jensen…suck me."
Jensen pushes Jeremy's thighs wider, slicking lube along the tight-smooth ridge of skin back. Jeremy twists and jerks, fingers spasming on Jensen's skull and his voice spiraling out of control before Jeff muffles it—with a kiss or his hand, Jensen doesn't know. He's occupied himself, circling Jeremy's hole, coaxing it to open, while he lets Jeremy guide him back to his cock.
Jeremy's tight, resistant—to a point where Jensen's afraid he'll hurt Jeremy and this isn't going to work at all. Then Jeff spanks Jeremy's abs sharply—a smack of sound that Jensen feels in his own cock and ass—and snarls, "Open up."
Another one of those full-body shivers racks Jeremy and when it passes, Jensen can feel Jeremy relax, settle, like one of Jared's horses when they're all pent-up and skittish. Jensen pushes in with one finger, feeling Jeremy shaking, feeling Jeremy cling, like Jensen's finger is all he has to hold onto in the world.
Jensen stops sucking Jeremy long enough to press his mouth wetly to Jeremy's thigh, the hairs rough and burning against Jensen's tender lips. Jeremy's muscles jitter like water on a hot skillet, hips writhing up in wordless quest for better contact.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" The satisfaction in Jeff's voice traces down Jensen's spine like a caressing fingertip, making him whimper against Jeremy's skin. All at once, he becomes aware of his own erection, swinging heavy and low between his outspread thighs. "Think about what it'll feel like when it's his cock in you."
Jeremy groans.
"I'm going to watch him fuck you. Watch you take his cock. And you are going to take it, Jeremy. Hard as I want, for as long as I want."
Jensen's not crazy about the taste of lube, but it's a minor annoyance as he laps down, sucking gently at Jeremy's perineum. Above the smell of the lube, Jeremy smells so ripe, hot and squirming, wet with their mingled juices.
"He's trained for this, remember? Trained by the best. I bet he could make it last all night, if I told him to. How would you like that, Jer? Think you could take it, Jensen pounding that ass all night long?"
Jeremy groans again, a sound Jensen can feel all the way in his mouth and fingers where he and Jeremy are linked.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Jensen can't tell what Jeff does to Jeremy, but he can feel the effect as Jeremy shudders again, clenching tight around Jensen's fingers. "You want me to watch you get fucked, see what a cock-slut you are."
Jensen eases a third finger into Jeremy and now there's no resistance beyond the normal elasticity of the muscle; Jeremy rides Jensen's hand desperately, wantonly, chasing an orgasm Jeff's nowhere near letting him have.
"What you seem to forget, sweetheart, is that ass is mine."
Jensen and Jeremy jerk at the same time, which is probably the only thing that saves Jensen from getting his nose broken when Jeremy bucks.
"And the only cock you're getting tonight is happening on my say-so."
Jeremy whines and bears down again. Jensen lifts his head. Jeremy's head is thrown back on Jeff's shoulder, a blooming sprinkle of bruises welting dark on his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Jeff's eyes catch Jensen's, and his face softens for a moment, a question surfacing through the heat.
Jensen's glad that it's dim enough to hide his blush, the dull ache of his cock throbbing harder as he stiffens even more. If Jeff doesn't get on with this soon, he's going to need Jeff to put a ring on him.
It's not an unattractive thought, but Jensen would rather be perfect the first time around. So it's a relief when Jeff looks back at Jeremy and asks, "Is that what you want? Should I let my boy fuck you?"
Jeremy makes a noise, indistinguishable as words.
"Nuh-uh." The teasing in Jeff's voice reminds Jensen all over again how much there is between Jeff and Jeremy, years of history and love, layers of emotion that Jensen can't even start to pick apart. "Not good enough, Merton. You don't get something for nothing; you gotta ask for it."
Jeremy twists between them; patiently, they force him spread-eagle again. Jensen rolls his fingertip lightly across the nub of Jeremy's prostate, a tease rather than a torture.
"Ask for it, Jer." Jeff's voice is completely inflexible, the no-nonsense tone that always makes Jensen want to go to his belly. But it's not his turn. Not yet. "All you have to say is please."
"Jeff—" Jeremy sounds like he's been wandering through the desert without water, a desperate, frog-like croak.
"Just say please."
"Please."
Jensen didn't realize he was holding his breath until Jeremy whispers the word.
"Please, Jeff."
Jeff's breath sighs out too, mostly satisfied, but with a note underneath it that reminds Jensen that Jeff was nervous about this. "Yeah. Yeah, come here, sweetheart."
Jensen knows how to follow a cue; he pulls out and stands up while Jeremy and Jeff fumble on the bed, getting Jeremy turned around. When Jeremy's on his knees in front of him, Jeff holds Jeremy's face between his hands for a long time, just looking at him. The kiss, when it comes, looks almost accidental, a chance brush of their lips before it combusts, turning deeper, hungrier, Jeremy's hands clutching at Jeff's shoulders, Jeff's fingers digging bruises into Jeremy's waist.
They chose to share this with him, Jensen thinks, bending to pump more lube from the jar, gritting his teeth as he slicks himself. Jeff didn't have to, Jeremy didn't need to agree. Watching them kiss, Jensen can't help the glow that infuses through his skin, different—separate—from the sex-ache and warmth of arousal; though no one's hand is on him but his own, Jensen feels desired, wanted, beautiful as he hasn't felt in years, since he was young.
Jensen kneels on the bed, a little amazed by himself as he puts his hands on the backs of Jeremy's thighs, skimming up the skin, hooking briefly in the soft join of legs to groin and then higher, palming Jeremy's ass, squeezing.
"No condom." Jeff's voice makes them both jump, three of them entwined together in a single loop. "Gonna let him fill you up, Jer,"
Jeremy moans against Jeff's skin and kilts his hips up, back arching.
Jensen's hips stutter, cock dragging as if guided along Jeremy's cleft. It's not forbidden to fuck an owner—a male owner—but it is definitely frowned upon, an embarrassment that could ruin an owner's reputation…and a slave's life.
He's done this before, with Lord Hutton. What he has with Jeff…it's so much better than that, so much better than Jensen dreamed he could have. He can't let fear mess it up now. He either believes in his master or…or what is he?
"Jensen?"
"You gonna make me beg too, man?" Jeremy looks over the peak of his shoulder at Jensen, smile tugging his mouth crooked. Jeremy stretches long—longer—slip-slide-nudging against Jensen. "Or am I not pretty enough for you?"
Jensen gets that it's a joke, the sarcasm all Jeff's friends throw around so casually, so little of what's said at all serious. Still, like his presence here, it means something that they—that Jeremy—jokes with him. He's not much good at kidding back, but jokes aren't what's called for in this situation.
Jeremy's head drops when Jensen thrusts against him, slow, sensuous drag. Jensen has much more experience being fucked than otherwise, but when Jeff leans up to spread Jeremy wide with both hands, Jensen feels the appeal, feels…desire.
"Come on, Jensen. You see how bad he wants it."
Despite the fingering, Jeremy's still tight, pushing in. Jensen chokes out a noise and so does Jeremy and Jeff's fingers crush Jensen's wrist.
"That's it. Fuck into him. God, the two of you."
Jensen wants to keep his eyes open, knows he should keep his eyes open, follow the visual cues, but it's too much, shaky and drawn up tight as he slides into Jeremy. He does feel young all over again, like in the first years of his training before he learned control. At the same time, he desperately doesn't want to ruin this for Jeff, after being allowed to share this with him.
Jensen breathes out through his mouth and pushes aside the awareness of his own body, his own need. He trusts Jeff to give him release when the time is right, when he's earned it, and if not, it doesn't matter much. Jeremy. Jeremy is what matters tonight.
Jeremy doesn't make it any easier on Jensen, though, rocking back onto Jensen's cock, squeezing him, deep inside, and all his moans muffled by Jeff's mouth over his. There's been no drugs and no booze—not tonight, Jeff wanted them all sober, lucid. Jensen feels plenty high, though, eyes closed, trying to breathe, trying to hang on…
"Wait. Wait."
Obedience is drummed into him, even while under the influence. Jensen freezes, Jeremy freezes and the bed shakes as Jeff moves, untangling himself. Jeremy's shaking, inner muscles fluttering around Jensen with the effort not to move, not to take more. When Jensen cracks his eyes open, Jeremy's head is down, fingers fisted tight in the rucked blankets. Jeff is crawling off the bed entirely.
"Jensen." Jensen skin shudders when Jeff touches him, another dimension of sensation.
"Sir," Jensen squeaks out, a little too scrambled to remember Jeff in this place where he's only Master, utter and complete.
Jeff growls, but only in hunger as he jags their mouths together, hard wet crush. At the same time, Jeff's hand skims down Jensen's chest, across his belly and down, until he's gripping Jensen at the root, holding him firm.
"Christ, how you look. How both of you look."
"Jeff," Jeremy groans, hitching back. "Please, man. I'm dying, please."
Jeff's thumb rubs across them both where they're joined together, lazy, leisurely. Jeremy moans again and arches; Jensen lets his head fall onto Jeff's shoulder, muffling himself against the skin, breathing in Jeff's smell.
"Yeah, all right. I got you, Jer. I'll take care of you both." He kisses Jensen again, messier this time, less controlled. "You need my fingers, sweetheart, or you think you can take me whole?"
Jensen jerks and Jeff's fingers tighten, maybe the only thing that keeps Jensen from shooting right then. "I can," Jensen stammers, unable to even get all the words out. "I can," he affirms again.
"Good boy."
Jensen's fingers dig into Jeremy's sides when Jeff pushes into him. He can feel Jeff in more than the stretch of his ass; he feels him everywhere, like he's splintering apart, like he's shattering apart, held together only by the circle of Jeff's restraining fingers around his cock. Jensen's teeth bite into his lower lip and Jeremy cries out as if the sounds welling up in Jensen's throat are passing through him and into Jeremy.
This isn't what Jeff planned, but it feels right, Jeff driving into him, driving him into Jeremy. It feels right to have Jeff inside him, owning him, guiding him, using him to please Jeremy, whom he loves. He likes Jeff's hand around him, holding him, rubbing fiction against his dick, his balls, but he doesn't need it anymore, uncertainty driven out of him by the pound of Jeff inside him—through him, and into Jeremy.
"You're so good, sweetheart. Jensen. My Jensen." Jeff's hands pull him back again and again. "Just a little longer. Hang on just a little more. Can you reach around? I want you to take hold of Jeremy's cock. He needs it. Don't you, Jer?"
"F-fuck you," Jeremy stammers. "You sadistic, oh…oh…" Jeremy ruts into Jensen's hand, cock as needy as Jeff promised. "Oh—"
"Keep pushing, Merton. Maybe I won't let you come at all." The vicious snap of Jeff's hips translates through Jensen, filling him, filling them both. "Or maybe I'll just find a better use for your mouth."
Jeremy's breath hitches and his whole body quakes and tightens, scalds of his come pulsing through Jensen's fingers. The feel of Jeremy's orgasm, the change in friction on his cock drags Jensen to the edge all over again.
"Master." Not the right word. Not the right name. "J-jeff. Jeff—" Jensen tries to hold back, be still, but Jeff's still in him, moving—driving—hard and relentless, deep, sweet rub that builds in Jensen's stomach, his cock.
"It's okay, Jensen." Jeff lets go of Jensen's shoulders to smooth his hands the length of Jensen's back. Robbed of that support, Jensen's weight falls more on Jeremy, who just falls. The three of them sink to the mattress, Jensen whimpering into Jeremy's shoulder blades as Jeff rides him down. Jeff's thumb traces around the circumference of Jensen's cock. "Let go. It's okay.
"I love you, it's okay."
Jensen's coming before Jeff even finishes the words, screaming against Jeremy's spine, body wringing so tautly he can't tell pleasure from pain.
It goes on for a very long time.
So long that Jensen's still twitching when Jeff pulls out of him, deep, aching emptiness. The threesomes—and moresomes—that Jensen's been a part of weren't like this; it's not reflex or training that makes him cling tighter to Jeremy, but it is something he does without thinking.
Jeremy doesn't seem to mind, though, grumble-snuffling under his breath and curling tighter against Jensen in return. Jensen knows that this—tonight—is about Jeremy. Jeff, of course, but Jeremy. But he can't hide from himself how good it feels to be in between them, warm and lazy-boned.
But even that thought brings the reminder that he is the slave in this scenario. Struggling with his sluggish limbs, Jensen eases his softened cock from Jeremy and tries to remember how to get up.
Jeff's hand falls on Jensen's hip like God's fist, defeating his effort. "Where you going, Jen?"
"I… I mean, we, need to clean up." Jensen's tongue is as clumsy as his body.
Jeremy groans, wriggling around until he and Jensen are nose to nose, his arm joining Jeff's in pinning Jensen to the mattress. "In case you hadn't noticed, we kind of like it dirty around here."
Jeremy grins, shyer and younger than Jensen's used to seeing from him, and he kisses Jensen lazily, licking, sucking, slipping his tongue between Jensen's lips with easy sweetness. It's the first time Jeremy's kissed him, Jensen thinks, as Jeff nuzzles at Jensen's nape. He has to remind himself because it doesn't feel like the first time.
It feels like they've been doing this forever.
