Enjoying the View (Greg Sanders/David Hodges/Archie Johnson)
Title: Enjoying the View
Author: cinaed
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: 073. "Threesome"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.
Warnings/Spoilers: Sexual acts, mature content
Pairing(s): Greg Sanders/David Hodges/Archie Johnson
Summary: It was, of course, Greg's idea.
Author's Notes: *kicks Greg because it's all his fault, the brat*
Word Count: 1,670
Enjoying the View
Usually, David admits to himself, Greg has some pretty stupid ideas. The other man does, however, have occasional moments of brilliance (it’s one of the reasons he actually succeeded in becoming a CSI, and becoming a damn good one at that, after all).
Now, David muses, as he stands at the foot of his bed and watches Greg and Archie slowly peel away each other’s clothing, is one of those moments. He still isn’t sure how Greg cajoled Archie into this -- hell, he isn’t entirely certain how Greg cajoled him into this -- but right now, David is extremely glad he gave into Greg’s suggestions.
He just watches the two younger men. Archie is currently investigating the insides of Greg’s mouth with the single-minded focus he usually reserves for his comic books, while Greg is his normal, over-eager self, hands tugging at Archie’s shirt and fumbling with the buttons. After a moment, though, Greg’s efforts pay off, and the shirt slides off Archie’s shoulders to reveal the smooth, pale skin underneath.
He just drinks in the sight even as Greg lowers his head and begins to kiss his way down Archie’s throat; he feels his breath catch as Archie moans. The sound, deep and rich, is almost like a caress down David’s spine, and he suppresses a shiver. David studies the way Archie’s head lolls back when he half-whimpers, half-gasps and how his mouth falls open ever so slightly, and the redness that stains his cheeks and the way his eyelashes flutter wildly whenever Greg kisses a particularly sensitive spot, wanting to commit this image to memory.
Then Archie murmurs something low and eager to Greg, who is currently kissing the hollow of his neck. David doesn’t catch the words, but whatever the younger man says makes Greg pause and lift his head to turn and grin at David. His eyes are shining and his face is flushed, and it’s definitely one of the best looks David has ever seen on his lover’s face.
When David doesn’t say anything, Greg raises an eyebrow and looks amused, and when David still doesn’t say anything, smirks and says in an all-too-innocent tone, "I’m sorry, are we distracting you?"
Distracting him? What the…oh. Right. David blinks and looks down, realizing he’d only gotten three buttons on his shirt undone before the sight of Archie and Greg kissing had stolen his attention. He swallows, and scrambles for something witty to say, but all he can get out is, "Your apology’s accepted." (Not his cleverest retort ever, but David’s more than a little distracted by Greg’s mischievous smirk and the way Archie is licking his lips and smiling.)
"We could help you," Archie offers, and before David can retort that Greg is all thumbs when it comes to undressing someone, and point out that Archie hasn’t even gotten Greg’s shirt off yet, the two younger men pounce.
And apparently the two work well together, because it seems like it takes them mere seconds to get his shirt unbuttoned and toss it aside, and then Archie’s fingers -- so graceful and certain on a keyboard -- are equally certain as they stroke David’s exposed skin, and Greg is kissing him just behind his ear, a spot he knows is David’s weak spot.
David normally prides himself on being in control, but he doubts anyone could stay in check under this particularly enjoyable sort of duress, and so lets the moans that Archie coax from him with his skillful fingers be deep and fervent, and isn’t embarrassed in the slightest when his knees half-buckle at the sensation of Archie’s hand at his waistband.
He feels a sudden coolness and realizes that Archie has gotten his pants and boxers off in record time, and he’ll really have to compliment the other man on his clever fingers, honestly, but not right now, because right now he’s a bit too busy biting back an undignified whine as Archie’s slender fingers wrap around his rock-hard erection. Moans are fine and good, but whines? Whines were a blow to David’s masculinity.
His knees really do buckle now, but luckily Greg’s there to support him and laugh, soft and slightly husky, in his ear as Archie’s marvelously talented hand begins to stroke and jerk and tease David at just the right tempo.
David gives up on being dignified, because his throat is thick with the repressed whines and whimpers that want to beg Archie to keep doing that, exactly that, and when David throws aside his dignity for the moment, the whimpers tumble out in a flood of, "Just like that, shit, that’s good, god," and more unintelligible groans.
And it seems like all too quickly that a blinding white-hot rush of pure pleasure rattles his frame, and he comes with a final stroke of Archie’s confident hand. When he finally blinks the spots from his vision, Archie is wearing an oddly victorious smile, as though he’s gained some self-respect by stripping David of his dignity and having him completely in hand, so to speak.
"That was amazing," Greg breathes, and it’s only now, far less distracted than before, that David can feel his lover’s own hard-on pressing against his back. Fingers press against David’s cheek and tilt his head at an angle where Greg can brush a slow, appreciative kiss against his mouth, and then the younger man repeats, eyes a little wide, "Really, really amazing."
David accepts the kiss, though he’s thinking it’s really Archie who’s earned some gratitude with that hand-job, and when Greg seems ready to keep going with "really, really, really amazing," catches his lover’s lips in another kiss, this one hard and possessive, because that kind of kiss is the only way to shut Greg up, and then he mutters, voice ragged and still breathless, "Thank Archie for me, would you?"
Greg’s grin is just as mischievous as it had been during his "I’m sorry, are we distracting you?" teasing, and he kisses David one more time before he steps away from the other man and moves towards Archie, seemingly intent on giving him a proper "thank-you."
David, his breath gradually evening out, just stands there for a moment and watches. Archie’s cheeks are flushed again, and his eyes are dark and almost glow. His hands have slid under Greg’s shirt and are roaming everywhere, if the ragged little gasps that occasionally escape Greg’s lips are any indication. Greg’s mouth is red and slightly swollen from earlier kisses, and his eyes are bright with a gleam that David recognizes quite well.
All in all, they make a beautiful image, with the pale colorings of Asian and Norwegian heritages and their lithe, fey-like bodies, and David doubts if even the greatest artists in history could capture this moment of exquisite perfection.
Of course, if Greg keeps fumbling with Archie’s pants like that, David will stop staring and help out, but in the meantime, he’s just going to just stay right where he is and enjoy the view.
Author: cinaed
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: 073. "Threesome"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.
Warnings/Spoilers: Sexual acts, mature content
Pairing(s): Greg Sanders/David Hodges/Archie Johnson
Summary: It was, of course, Greg's idea.
Author's Notes: *kicks Greg because it's all his fault, the brat*
Word Count: 1,670
Enjoying the View
Usually, David admits to himself, Greg has some pretty stupid ideas. The other man does, however, have occasional moments of brilliance (it’s one of the reasons he actually succeeded in becoming a CSI, and becoming a damn good one at that, after all).
Now, David muses, as he stands at the foot of his bed and watches Greg and Archie slowly peel away each other’s clothing, is one of those moments. He still isn’t sure how Greg cajoled Archie into this -- hell, he isn’t entirely certain how Greg cajoled him into this -- but right now, David is extremely glad he gave into Greg’s suggestions.
He just watches the two younger men. Archie is currently investigating the insides of Greg’s mouth with the single-minded focus he usually reserves for his comic books, while Greg is his normal, over-eager self, hands tugging at Archie’s shirt and fumbling with the buttons. After a moment, though, Greg’s efforts pay off, and the shirt slides off Archie’s shoulders to reveal the smooth, pale skin underneath.
He just drinks in the sight even as Greg lowers his head and begins to kiss his way down Archie’s throat; he feels his breath catch as Archie moans. The sound, deep and rich, is almost like a caress down David’s spine, and he suppresses a shiver. David studies the way Archie’s head lolls back when he half-whimpers, half-gasps and how his mouth falls open ever so slightly, and the redness that stains his cheeks and the way his eyelashes flutter wildly whenever Greg kisses a particularly sensitive spot, wanting to commit this image to memory.
Then Archie murmurs something low and eager to Greg, who is currently kissing the hollow of his neck. David doesn’t catch the words, but whatever the younger man says makes Greg pause and lift his head to turn and grin at David. His eyes are shining and his face is flushed, and it’s definitely one of the best looks David has ever seen on his lover’s face.
When David doesn’t say anything, Greg raises an eyebrow and looks amused, and when David still doesn’t say anything, smirks and says in an all-too-innocent tone, "I’m sorry, are we distracting you?"
Distracting him? What the…oh. Right. David blinks and looks down, realizing he’d only gotten three buttons on his shirt undone before the sight of Archie and Greg kissing had stolen his attention. He swallows, and scrambles for something witty to say, but all he can get out is, "Your apology’s accepted." (Not his cleverest retort ever, but David’s more than a little distracted by Greg’s mischievous smirk and the way Archie is licking his lips and smiling.)
"We could help you," Archie offers, and before David can retort that Greg is all thumbs when it comes to undressing someone, and point out that Archie hasn’t even gotten Greg’s shirt off yet, the two younger men pounce.
And apparently the two work well together, because it seems like it takes them mere seconds to get his shirt unbuttoned and toss it aside, and then Archie’s fingers -- so graceful and certain on a keyboard -- are equally certain as they stroke David’s exposed skin, and Greg is kissing him just behind his ear, a spot he knows is David’s weak spot.
David normally prides himself on being in control, but he doubts anyone could stay in check under this particularly enjoyable sort of duress, and so lets the moans that Archie coax from him with his skillful fingers be deep and fervent, and isn’t embarrassed in the slightest when his knees half-buckle at the sensation of Archie’s hand at his waistband.
He feels a sudden coolness and realizes that Archie has gotten his pants and boxers off in record time, and he’ll really have to compliment the other man on his clever fingers, honestly, but not right now, because right now he’s a bit too busy biting back an undignified whine as Archie’s slender fingers wrap around his rock-hard erection. Moans are fine and good, but whines? Whines were a blow to David’s masculinity.
His knees really do buckle now, but luckily Greg’s there to support him and laugh, soft and slightly husky, in his ear as Archie’s marvelously talented hand begins to stroke and jerk and tease David at just the right tempo.
David gives up on being dignified, because his throat is thick with the repressed whines and whimpers that want to beg Archie to keep doing that, exactly that, and when David throws aside his dignity for the moment, the whimpers tumble out in a flood of, "Just like that, shit, that’s good, god," and more unintelligible groans.
And it seems like all too quickly that a blinding white-hot rush of pure pleasure rattles his frame, and he comes with a final stroke of Archie’s confident hand. When he finally blinks the spots from his vision, Archie is wearing an oddly victorious smile, as though he’s gained some self-respect by stripping David of his dignity and having him completely in hand, so to speak.
"That was amazing," Greg breathes, and it’s only now, far less distracted than before, that David can feel his lover’s own hard-on pressing against his back. Fingers press against David’s cheek and tilt his head at an angle where Greg can brush a slow, appreciative kiss against his mouth, and then the younger man repeats, eyes a little wide, "Really, really amazing."
David accepts the kiss, though he’s thinking it’s really Archie who’s earned some gratitude with that hand-job, and when Greg seems ready to keep going with "really, really, really amazing," catches his lover’s lips in another kiss, this one hard and possessive, because that kind of kiss is the only way to shut Greg up, and then he mutters, voice ragged and still breathless, "Thank Archie for me, would you?"
Greg’s grin is just as mischievous as it had been during his "I’m sorry, are we distracting you?" teasing, and he kisses David one more time before he steps away from the other man and moves towards Archie, seemingly intent on giving him a proper "thank-you."
David, his breath gradually evening out, just stands there for a moment and watches. Archie’s cheeks are flushed again, and his eyes are dark and almost glow. His hands have slid under Greg’s shirt and are roaming everywhere, if the ragged little gasps that occasionally escape Greg’s lips are any indication. Greg’s mouth is red and slightly swollen from earlier kisses, and his eyes are bright with a gleam that David recognizes quite well.
All in all, they make a beautiful image, with the pale colorings of Asian and Norwegian heritages and their lithe, fey-like bodies, and David doubts if even the greatest artists in history could capture this moment of exquisite perfection.
Of course, if Greg keeps fumbling with Archie’s pants like that, David will stop staring and help out, but in the meantime, he’s just going to just stay right where he is and enjoy the view.