Nathan Barley fic: Birthday
Title: Birthday
Pairing: Jones/Dan/Jonatton
Summary: Set somewhere in my Memoria-verse. It's Dan's birthday. The three of them get drunk and have a threesome.
Word Count: 1,301
Rating: hard R/light NC-17
Warnings: None! It's not even as porn-y as it sounds, really.
Disclaimer: They're not mine, blah blah. I wish they were, yadda yadda.
Author’s Notes: I haven't written anything in this 'verse in ages, but I found this fic half finished on my hard drive and figured it'd be perfect for doctorpancakes birthday. Happy Birthday, Sami! <3
“This is a bad idea,” Dan decided aloud, though he was really too drunk to be bothered thinking of the potential consequences and his protest was largely a token one.
“Probably,” Jonatton agreed. He leaned forward to trail a line of soft, closed mouth kisses down Dan’s neck before speaking against his skin, “But it’s your birthday, Daniel. We should celebrate, etcetra.”
They had been celebrating for hours now and any common sense was at the end of several empty pint glasses and two bottles of whiskey ago. Dan wasn’t even really sure who had brought up the idea first, but it wasn’t as though the thought of the three of them sleeping together had never occurred to him before. He’d had more than a couple early morning wanks in the shower with that very scenario in mind.
Regardless of who started it, Jones had looked intrigued by the thought, and Jonatton had just got that look in his eyes like it was a challenge and Jonatton was always, always up for a challenge.
So, they’d moved into the bedroom, and Dan had flopped back onto the bed without any preamble, too drunk to continue sitting up any longer. Jones curled up against his side like he always did when they were in bed and Jonatton took a seat opposite him, both of them eyeing each other not exactly warily, but clearly waiting to see who would make the first move.
Jones rested his chin on Dan’s chest, continuing to look over at Jonatton curiously, as if he wasn’t sure what exactly he should do first. Dan curled a hand in his hair and tugged him closer for a kiss as he felt Jonatton move forward as well and start to unbutton his shirt. Some overprotective caveman part of his mind was pleased that Jones had clearly never done this before, though the thought was hypocritical, because he and Jonatton had. It’d been years ago with some faceless model he couldn’t even remember now, and they’d both been too young and too pissed and too into each other to really even have it count for much. They’d probably ignored her completely.
Jonatton tugged Dan’s shirt off his shoulders and then bit at the juncture where neck met shoulder, causing Dan to gasp softly into Jones’s mouth. Jones moved to straddle him, but Jonatton shoved him off, clearly not done with whatever he thought he was doing to Dan’s neck.
Dan opened his eyes, not realising he’d shut them and wondered for a moment if Jones would get angry at that push. If this devolved onto an argument between them, he’d just to go sleep, he decided.
Jones paused, giving Jonatton a look that was somewhere between indignant and predatory as he reached out and gave Jonatton’s shoulders a shove in return. He pushed him flat onto the bed and then slid a thigh over each of Jonatton’s, pinning him there. “What d’you think you’re doin’?” he asked softly, tugging Jonatton’s arms above his head and closing his fingers around his wrists, keeping them pressed against the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jonatton countered sarcastically. “If I’m not allowed to touch him, this is going to end pretty quickly.”
Dan shrugged out of his shirt completely and tossed it off the side of the bed, watching the other two.
Jones just gave Jonatton a cheeky grin in return. “Maybe I just wanna touch you right now,” he replied and leaned down to crush his lips against Jonatton’s. That apparently seemed to be the correct answer, by the way Jonatton arched against him, returning the kiss, as though he just wanted attention, not caring which of them it was from.
After a few moments, Dan grew bored of the show in front of him and tugged Jones back to kiss him again. Jonatton leaned up on his elbows, watching them. “He’s a better kisser than you, Danbo,” he teased.
Dan flipped him the vee, before helping Jones tug off his shirt. Then he got to work on Jones’s belt buckle and started to tug his tight drainpipes off his narrow hips, eyeing the expanse of pale skin the action afforded him.
Jonatton just watched them for a few moments, trying to ignore how absolutely into each other they looked-like he and Dan must have years ago. He sighed softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Dan’s cheek before getting off the bed and wandering into the kitchen in search of more alcohol.
It wasn’t until Dan was fumbling around in his bedside drawer for the half empty tube of lube he’d remembered tossing in there days ago, that he realised Jonatton was no longer in the room. He paused and briefly considered going to check on him and make sure he wasn’t off pouting over the lack of attention or some other perceived slight, but then his eyes fell on Jones again; Jones who had his hand wrapped around his own cock, jerking himself off slowly. His ocean blue eyes slowly rose to meet Dan’s brown ones, and he reached out for him, murmuring, “C’mere.” All thoughts of Jonatton were forgotten.
Later when Jones was asleep, Dan tugged his trousers back on and wandered out of the bedroom for a glass of water. He found Jonatton curled up on the sofa, flicking idly though telly channels, letting the muted lights and colours of it wash over him without taking much of it in. At this hour, it’d all be shit anyway.
Dan sunk down onto the sofa cushion next to him. “Are you sulking?”
“No. Nearly sleeping,” Jonatton replied with a yawn. “What a disappointing threesome.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dan answered, the ghost of a smile curling the corners of his lips upward. “I liked it.”
Jonatton just rolled his eyes at that, before looking at Dan again, contemplatively, “I didn’t want to interrupt,” he admitted.
That got a surprised chuckle from Dan, and Jonatton amended, “Well, of course I wanted to. I would’ve thrown him out the window if we weren’t on the first floor.”
Dan just pulled Jonatton into a hug at that, because they both knew he was lying. He was actually getting used to Dan choosing Jones sometimes; with things like this at least, and he was learning to be okay with it. Had Dan been better with words, he might’ve told Jonatton how much that meant to him, but he hoped an arm drunkenly slung across Jonatton’s shoulders would get the message across well enough.
“Oh, get off me,” Jonatton replied, trying to sound grumpy and being a bit too tired and drunk to manage it. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Dan’s cheek, lips grazing weeks old stubble. “As well behaved as I might be, I’m still spending the night, and it’s not going to be on this shit couch.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Dan assured him. They couldn’t all three fit in the bed, and Dan was comfortable enough here. He really couldn’t be arsed to get up right now and go back into the bedroom anyway, and on the rare occasions Jones slept, he was out cold. He’d hardly notice another person sleeping next to him; much less differentiate if that person was Dan or Jonatton.
Dan was half asleep already by the time he heard Jonatton turn off the television and felt the sofa cushion shift as Jonatton stood up. He let himself slide sideways onto the recently vacated space, stretching out as much as the length of the sofa allowed and used the arm of it as a pillow, never bothering to open his eyes.
When he heard Jonatton whisper into his ear, "Happy Birthday, Daniel," he couldn’t even be completely sure he didn’t dream it.
End.
Pairing: Jones/Dan/Jonatton
Summary: Set somewhere in my Memoria-verse. It's Dan's birthday. The three of them get drunk and have a threesome.
Word Count: 1,301
Rating: hard R/light NC-17
Warnings: None! It's not even as porn-y as it sounds, really.
Disclaimer: They're not mine, blah blah. I wish they were, yadda yadda.
Author’s Notes: I haven't written anything in this 'verse in ages, but I found this fic half finished on my hard drive and figured it'd be perfect for doctorpancakes birthday. Happy Birthday, Sami! <3
“This is a bad idea,” Dan decided aloud, though he was really too drunk to be bothered thinking of the potential consequences and his protest was largely a token one.
“Probably,” Jonatton agreed. He leaned forward to trail a line of soft, closed mouth kisses down Dan’s neck before speaking against his skin, “But it’s your birthday, Daniel. We should celebrate, etcetra.”
They had been celebrating for hours now and any common sense was at the end of several empty pint glasses and two bottles of whiskey ago. Dan wasn’t even really sure who had brought up the idea first, but it wasn’t as though the thought of the three of them sleeping together had never occurred to him before. He’d had more than a couple early morning wanks in the shower with that very scenario in mind.
Regardless of who started it, Jones had looked intrigued by the thought, and Jonatton had just got that look in his eyes like it was a challenge and Jonatton was always, always up for a challenge.
So, they’d moved into the bedroom, and Dan had flopped back onto the bed without any preamble, too drunk to continue sitting up any longer. Jones curled up against his side like he always did when they were in bed and Jonatton took a seat opposite him, both of them eyeing each other not exactly warily, but clearly waiting to see who would make the first move.
Jones rested his chin on Dan’s chest, continuing to look over at Jonatton curiously, as if he wasn’t sure what exactly he should do first. Dan curled a hand in his hair and tugged him closer for a kiss as he felt Jonatton move forward as well and start to unbutton his shirt. Some overprotective caveman part of his mind was pleased that Jones had clearly never done this before, though the thought was hypocritical, because he and Jonatton had. It’d been years ago with some faceless model he couldn’t even remember now, and they’d both been too young and too pissed and too into each other to really even have it count for much. They’d probably ignored her completely.
Jonatton tugged Dan’s shirt off his shoulders and then bit at the juncture where neck met shoulder, causing Dan to gasp softly into Jones’s mouth. Jones moved to straddle him, but Jonatton shoved him off, clearly not done with whatever he thought he was doing to Dan’s neck.
Dan opened his eyes, not realising he’d shut them and wondered for a moment if Jones would get angry at that push. If this devolved onto an argument between them, he’d just to go sleep, he decided.
Jones paused, giving Jonatton a look that was somewhere between indignant and predatory as he reached out and gave Jonatton’s shoulders a shove in return. He pushed him flat onto the bed and then slid a thigh over each of Jonatton’s, pinning him there. “What d’you think you’re doin’?” he asked softly, tugging Jonatton’s arms above his head and closing his fingers around his wrists, keeping them pressed against the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jonatton countered sarcastically. “If I’m not allowed to touch him, this is going to end pretty quickly.”
Dan shrugged out of his shirt completely and tossed it off the side of the bed, watching the other two.
Jones just gave Jonatton a cheeky grin in return. “Maybe I just wanna touch you right now,” he replied and leaned down to crush his lips against Jonatton’s. That apparently seemed to be the correct answer, by the way Jonatton arched against him, returning the kiss, as though he just wanted attention, not caring which of them it was from.
After a few moments, Dan grew bored of the show in front of him and tugged Jones back to kiss him again. Jonatton leaned up on his elbows, watching them. “He’s a better kisser than you, Danbo,” he teased.
Dan flipped him the vee, before helping Jones tug off his shirt. Then he got to work on Jones’s belt buckle and started to tug his tight drainpipes off his narrow hips, eyeing the expanse of pale skin the action afforded him.
Jonatton just watched them for a few moments, trying to ignore how absolutely into each other they looked-like he and Dan must have years ago. He sighed softly, leaning over to press a kiss to Dan’s cheek before getting off the bed and wandering into the kitchen in search of more alcohol.
It wasn’t until Dan was fumbling around in his bedside drawer for the half empty tube of lube he’d remembered tossing in there days ago, that he realised Jonatton was no longer in the room. He paused and briefly considered going to check on him and make sure he wasn’t off pouting over the lack of attention or some other perceived slight, but then his eyes fell on Jones again; Jones who had his hand wrapped around his own cock, jerking himself off slowly. His ocean blue eyes slowly rose to meet Dan’s brown ones, and he reached out for him, murmuring, “C’mere.” All thoughts of Jonatton were forgotten.
Later when Jones was asleep, Dan tugged his trousers back on and wandered out of the bedroom for a glass of water. He found Jonatton curled up on the sofa, flicking idly though telly channels, letting the muted lights and colours of it wash over him without taking much of it in. At this hour, it’d all be shit anyway.
Dan sunk down onto the sofa cushion next to him. “Are you sulking?”
“No. Nearly sleeping,” Jonatton replied with a yawn. “What a disappointing threesome.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dan answered, the ghost of a smile curling the corners of his lips upward. “I liked it.”
Jonatton just rolled his eyes at that, before looking at Dan again, contemplatively, “I didn’t want to interrupt,” he admitted.
That got a surprised chuckle from Dan, and Jonatton amended, “Well, of course I wanted to. I would’ve thrown him out the window if we weren’t on the first floor.”
Dan just pulled Jonatton into a hug at that, because they both knew he was lying. He was actually getting used to Dan choosing Jones sometimes; with things like this at least, and he was learning to be okay with it. Had Dan been better with words, he might’ve told Jonatton how much that meant to him, but he hoped an arm drunkenly slung across Jonatton’s shoulders would get the message across well enough.
“Oh, get off me,” Jonatton replied, trying to sound grumpy and being a bit too tired and drunk to manage it. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Dan’s cheek, lips grazing weeks old stubble. “As well behaved as I might be, I’m still spending the night, and it’s not going to be on this shit couch.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Dan assured him. They couldn’t all three fit in the bed, and Dan was comfortable enough here. He really couldn’t be arsed to get up right now and go back into the bedroom anyway, and on the rare occasions Jones slept, he was out cold. He’d hardly notice another person sleeping next to him; much less differentiate if that person was Dan or Jonatton.
Dan was half asleep already by the time he heard Jonatton turn off the television and felt the sofa cushion shift as Jonatton stood up. He let himself slide sideways onto the recently vacated space, stretching out as much as the length of the sofa allowed and used the arm of it as a pillow, never bothering to open his eyes.
When he heard Jonatton whisper into his ear, "Happy Birthday, Daniel," he couldn’t even be completely sure he didn’t dream it.
End.