(no subject)
I can feel you in my veins (a danger I will take)
Bandom - Empires || Ryan/Sean/Tom || Adult || 2465 words
Disclaimer: I don't know any of these boys personally and I make no claims on them. No harm intended. If you are one of the persons in this fic, please hit the back button or at least don't tell me about it.
He doesn't want to fuck up whatever bond is forming in his new pack, but the marks look good on Sean. They look even better when he realizes Ryan's the one leaving them.
A/N: Title comes from Empires' Valmont. If you don't know the song, go download HOWL from their website FOR FREE right this very instant. Part of the werewolf!Empires 'verse. You don't have to have read They Just Howl, since there's no plot to this, but that's where it started. And there's a big part in between that's as-yet-unfinished. This one is just about sex. Beta'd by irisgirl12000, all remaining mistakes (and I know there are at least a few) are all mine. Dedicated to my girls: irisgirl12000, shutyourface, reallythateasy, nearlycloudy, and ashlein, who have all already read this.
Somehow Ryan always ends up with accidental marks. Sean ends up with the intentional ones.
Tom doesn't ask the first time he notices the bruises under Sean's collar that have the distinctive marks of bites, but he can't stop thinking about it. He had his own thing with William, and so did Carden, but he thinks it was always strategy instead of actual affection. It was never serious, and more often than not they each had their own girl on the side. This, though... this isn't a passing fascination with Sean, thinking he'd be a hot fuck. And it's not just feeling possessive over someone else marking Sean. This is something else. He doesn't want to fuck up whatever bond is forming in his new pack, but the marks look good on Sean. They look even better when he realizes Ryan's the one leaving them.
Tom's roughhousing in the yard with Max - a game of tug-of-war taken to the extreme - when Sean dives off the porch and tackles them both. Tom's attention shifts in an instant and he mock-growls at Sean before rolling them over, biting at Sean's neck. Sean goes still beneath him for a moment, almost quick enough to miss, but it's enough to make Tom wonder if he'd do the same thing when they're not wolves. It's not about dominance - they do pretty well without an alpha - but there's some kind of desire there that Tom's getting tired of fighting.
Later that night, they're all sprawled out in the living room watching the game. Ryan's half-laying across Tom's lap and Tom's running his fingers through Ryan's hair - Ryan likes to be petted even when he's not furry - when Ryan turns around to look at him, presses an open-mouthed kiss against his wrist, then scrapes his teeth across the same spot. Tom's breath catches - seriously, who knew even the hint of biting could be so hot? Apparently Ryan, because he turns his smirk from Tom to Sean and says, "Told you he'd like it."
Sean shoots a questioning glance in Tom's direction and Tom's pretty sure his blush answers the question Sean's not asking. Hell yes, he likes it.
Max looks at them and rolls his eyes. "I bet Nick is showing the game on the big screen."
"Let's go down to the bar and check it out," Al suggests, jumping up and snagging Ryan's wallet.
Tom watches Al and Max leave, not joining in on Sean and Ryan's laughter because he's still feeling a bit unsure about this whole situation. Ryan sits up and scoots over to Sean, the two of them sharing a sloppy kiss before looking at him, invitation clear in their eyes.
"C’mere, Tom," Ryan says.
When Tom hesitates, Ryan's grin turns a little bit evil, his expression almost predatory. "I promise I do bite."
Sean laughs and pulls away from Ryan, crawling over to Tom and leaning in to kiss him. It takes Tom a few seconds to kiss him back. He doesn't want to fuck this up, but he’s thinking about what Jon said, that Tom needed to let go and trust. Of course, they were talking about the pack in general, not sex with a couple of his packmates, but Tom figures the same concepts apply.
When Sean starts to sit back, Tom follows him, not wanting to pull away. He feels Sean's hand slide over his thigh and up his side, fingers curling in Tom's shirt and pulling him closer. Tom pushes Sean back against the couch and climbs into his lap, one hand on the back of the couch for balance and the other sliding through Sean's hair. Sean's hands are slipping under Tom's shirt, just enough pressure for Tom to feel like it's not enough.
He tries to keep the kiss easy, the way Sean started it, but it's not in him to resist the urge to bite and mark and claim. He bites Sean's lip before pulling his head back, scrapes his teeth over Sean's stubble and shifts so he can sink his teeth into Sean's neck. Sean's breath is coming rushed and harsh above him, punctuated by this little whimpering sound that Tom really really likes. Tom's so wrapped up in Sean that he doesn't even sense Ryan, doesn't know he's there until Ryan presses up behind him, bending down to whisper in Tom's ear.
"You're ours, Thomas Alfred Conrad." If his voice and his words weren’t enough to make Tom shiver, the feel of his teeth nipping at Tom's ear would be.
Tom makes a slight whimpering sound of his own, letting go of the skin between his teeth and smoothing his tongue over the indentations he’s left behind. Ryan laughs, straightening up but keeping his hands on Tom.
“We got a bed upstairs. Granted, there’s no dinosaur sheets, but-“
“Shut up,” Tom cuts him off with a laugh, sliding off Sean’s lap to stand up. Ryan’s still pressed right against his back and when Tom takes Sean’s hand to pull him up, for a moment he’s stuck in between the two of them. He likes it. “What’s this about a bed?”
Tom’s never been upstairs, which is probably strange considering how much time he’s spent at the house. He’s not as surprised as he once would have been to find there are only four doors that open off the hallway - three bedrooms and a bathroom. The only one he’s interested in is the one at the end of the hall. He follows Ryan like it’s an everyday thing, and Sean doesn’t let go of Tom’s hand until they’re in the room. Tom falls on the bed, onto blankets that smell of SeanandRyan, and leans back on his elbows to watch as Ryan reaches for Sean.
Ryan doesn’t even try to be gentle with his kisses, and Tom’s not sure if he’s more jealous of the way Sean just gives in and lets Ryan take or the way Ryan bites Sean’s lip hard enough to draw blood. Tom doesn’t know if he wants to watch or get into the middle of that, mark and be marked. He kinda wishes he had his camera and he makes a note to bring it next time. There had better be a next time. He doesn’t think once will be enough for him.
Ryan pulls Sean's shirt up over his head and tosses it to the side. Sean's skin is spattered with marks, mostly ones clearly left by Ryan's teeth or fingers, some more faded than others. There are a few scars Tom can't place, but he knows they're the result of a decidedly less-than-sexy encounter, especially the trio of marks across the soft part of his stomach that look like claw marks. They're pale and obviously old, but that doesn't stop the rush of anger and protectiveness Tom feels.
Ryan's hands linger over the scars for a moment even though he's not looking at them, and Tom wonders how long they've been doing this, to know each other this well. He also wonders why he can't turn off the thinky part of his brain when he's got what is essentially his own personal live porn going on in front of him.
Ryan and Sean are directly beside the bed - Tom can feel their legs brushing against his - and if he sat up he'd be close enough to touch both of them. He's still trying to let them set the pace of things, though, to let them dictate his role in this, but when Ryan's shirt comes off, he can't resist.
Ryan's injury is in that stage between healed and scarred, still angry-looking red and sensitive but no longer something to worry about. Tom presses his fingers against it, ignoring Ryan's hiss of pain - he imagines Sean's touch is always a bit lighter - and follows the movement with his tongue. Ryan's stomach is all smooth muscle and warm skin, and Tom has a hard time not scraping his teeth along the edges of the reddened area, just to see what kind of reaction he gets. Instead, he nuzzles against Ryan's side, breathing in the scent and sense of Ryan.
Tom feels fingers slide through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging just a little, and another set of fingers - Sean’s - sliding across Ryan’s belly to tangle with his own. He pushes back into the touch on his head - Ryan isn’t the only one who likes to be petted - and pulls Sean’s fingers to his mouth, looking up at them. Ryan lets go of Sean and reaches for Tom, pulling him to his feet.
Ryan’s kisses are rough and slick and different than Sean’s, and Tom’s caught up in the tastes mingled on his tongues and the not-so-subtle way Ryan’s tugging at his shirt. When Tom turns around after pulling his shirt off, Sean’s stretched out naked on the bed. Tom glances at Ryan, not exactly seeking permission but looking for some sort of sign. Ryan grins and gives him a playful shove. “Go for it.”
Tom doesn’t need any more encouragement. He quickly steps out of his sweatpants and clambers up onto the bed. His kiss is probably a little too enthusiastic, if Ryan’s laughter is anything to go by, but fuck, he’s been waiting for this. Wanting. And now he’s got Sean laid out beneath him, and Tom can lick, bite, tease, taunt to his little heart’s content. There’s a half-circle of fingerprint-shaped bruises on his hips, symmetrical and perfect, still just the slightest bit tender, and Tom deliberately presses his fingers over the same spot, holds Sean down while he blows him. Tom is a tease; he likes drawing it out, seeing just how much he can make Sean whimper and moan and beg. Ryan’s the unknown in this, though, running his hands over both of them, stretching out to kiss Sean, slow and sloppy and swallowing all those little sounds Tom is trying to elicit. He whispers something Tom doesn’t catch, but it must be good because Sean comes with a choked out sound that’s almost a mix of Tom and Ryan’s names.
After Tom sucks Sean off, he works his way back up Sean’s stomach and chest with more licks and nips, and kisses Sean. Ryan presses against Tom’s back, hot and heavy but not forcing him down, and brings one hand around Tom to jerk him off, bites at the back of his neck. His other hand is on the bed beside them and Tom slides his fingers over Ryan’s.
The kiss Tom and Sean are sharing is messy and uncoordinated and completely out of sync with the way Ryan is sliding his fist over Tom’s cock, despite the way Sean is working his tongue in the same rhythm. Tom is mostly trying to keep his mouth occupied, to keep himself from spilling out secrets that aren’t really secrets. Sean and Ryan both already know how he feels, but saying the words out loud means something more.
Tom can feel the bruise forming where Ryan is biting, and between the teeth and the touch and Sean still all warm and pliant beneath him, Tom’s finding it hard to think. Hard to breathe.
“Tom,” Ryan whispers, pulling away just a little.
Tom tilts his head, trying to tempt Ryan back, give him better access. This gives Sean the opportunity to bite his chin. Sean is more puppyish than Ryan, less serious, all nips and lips and scraping his teeth against along Tom’s cheek and muttering TomRyan like they’re two parts of the same whole. He kisses Ryan over Tom’s shoulder, chest slick with sweat pressing against Tom as he leans up. Tom wants to press down, wants full body contact with Sean, wants to force Ryan’s hand to speed up, a little tighter a little harder a little faster. Sean relaxes against the bed once more, hands coming to hold Tom’s hips steady.
“Hey, Tom.”
Tom forces himself to give in to the way Sean’s holding him still, open his eyes and focus on Sean’s oh-so-blue ones. Ryan’s cock is pressing hot and hard and insistent against his ass and Tom lets out a plaintive little whine. He understands where Sean’s confusion came from when he smushed their names together, bites his lip hard enough to bring blood but still not managing to hold in the “SeanRyan” and the “please.” He doesn’t know what he wants, what he’s asking for. He wants them to let him go, let him fall down on Sean and rut against him. He wants them to hold him where he is, for Ryan to fuck him, make him beg and whine and need, and have Sean there to swallow the sounds. Right now he’s at their mercy; the only friction he’s getting is from Ryan’s hand. He can’t rock forward into the touch or push back against Ryan’s dick. It’s unfair and so fucking hot.
Sean lifts his head up, sucks Tom’s lower lip into his mouth and worries it with his teeth. His lips are bright red - blood red - when he pulls away. “Tom,” he repeats. Tom mutters something even he doesn’t understand and Sean grins at him, glances over his shoulder at Ryan. “Kiss me.”
Tom leans in to comply, lick his own blood off Sean’s lips, bites his tongue. Ryan speeds up his hand, twisting it a bit. Tom’s focused on that, and on the way Sean’s fingers are flexing sure and solid against his hips, and loses the kiss again. He’s just breathing against Sean’s mouth, doesn’t realize at first that Sean’s chanting “ours ours ours” against his lips.
“Ours.” Ryan’s agreement is rough and growly and fierce, and punctuated by his teeth digging sharply into Tom’s shoulder. Tom comes, shaking, and he’s glad Sean’s there to hold him up. Ryan keeps stroking him through it, running his hand over the head of Tom’s cock and through the mess on Sean’s stomach. He straightens up, jerking himself off over Tom’s back. Tom falls against Sean, heavy and languid, shaky and breathing hard, and lets Sean pet him as he comes down. Ryan comes quickly, hot and sticky over Tom’s back, and lets his weight rest mostly but not fully on top of Tom and Sean for a minute, a pile of sweaty, satiated skin. Ryan sighs and slips over onto his side beside them. Tom rolls over to the other side, keeping one leg firmly over top of Sean’s, and leans over to kiss Ryan. Both Ryan and Sean look happy but tired, the way Tom feels.
“Next time,” Tom mumbles sleepily, pulling back and settling down against Sean, “someone had better fuck me.”
“Next time,” Ryan replies, smirking and fitting himself against Sean’s other side, “I plan to.”
Bandom - Empires || Ryan/Sean/Tom || Adult || 2465 words
Disclaimer: I don't know any of these boys personally and I make no claims on them. No harm intended. If you are one of the persons in this fic, please hit the back button or at least don't tell me about it.
He doesn't want to fuck up whatever bond is forming in his new pack, but the marks look good on Sean. They look even better when he realizes Ryan's the one leaving them.
A/N: Title comes from Empires' Valmont. If you don't know the song, go download HOWL from their website FOR FREE right this very instant. Part of the werewolf!Empires 'verse. You don't have to have read They Just Howl, since there's no plot to this, but that's where it started. And there's a big part in between that's as-yet-unfinished. This one is just about sex. Beta'd by irisgirl12000, all remaining mistakes (and I know there are at least a few) are all mine. Dedicated to my girls: irisgirl12000, shutyourface, reallythateasy, nearlycloudy, and ashlein, who have all already read this.
Somehow Ryan always ends up with accidental marks. Sean ends up with the intentional ones.
Tom doesn't ask the first time he notices the bruises under Sean's collar that have the distinctive marks of bites, but he can't stop thinking about it. He had his own thing with William, and so did Carden, but he thinks it was always strategy instead of actual affection. It was never serious, and more often than not they each had their own girl on the side. This, though... this isn't a passing fascination with Sean, thinking he'd be a hot fuck. And it's not just feeling possessive over someone else marking Sean. This is something else. He doesn't want to fuck up whatever bond is forming in his new pack, but the marks look good on Sean. They look even better when he realizes Ryan's the one leaving them.
Tom's roughhousing in the yard with Max - a game of tug-of-war taken to the extreme - when Sean dives off the porch and tackles them both. Tom's attention shifts in an instant and he mock-growls at Sean before rolling them over, biting at Sean's neck. Sean goes still beneath him for a moment, almost quick enough to miss, but it's enough to make Tom wonder if he'd do the same thing when they're not wolves. It's not about dominance - they do pretty well without an alpha - but there's some kind of desire there that Tom's getting tired of fighting.
Later that night, they're all sprawled out in the living room watching the game. Ryan's half-laying across Tom's lap and Tom's running his fingers through Ryan's hair - Ryan likes to be petted even when he's not furry - when Ryan turns around to look at him, presses an open-mouthed kiss against his wrist, then scrapes his teeth across the same spot. Tom's breath catches - seriously, who knew even the hint of biting could be so hot? Apparently Ryan, because he turns his smirk from Tom to Sean and says, "Told you he'd like it."
Sean shoots a questioning glance in Tom's direction and Tom's pretty sure his blush answers the question Sean's not asking. Hell yes, he likes it.
Max looks at them and rolls his eyes. "I bet Nick is showing the game on the big screen."
"Let's go down to the bar and check it out," Al suggests, jumping up and snagging Ryan's wallet.
Tom watches Al and Max leave, not joining in on Sean and Ryan's laughter because he's still feeling a bit unsure about this whole situation. Ryan sits up and scoots over to Sean, the two of them sharing a sloppy kiss before looking at him, invitation clear in their eyes.
"C’mere, Tom," Ryan says.
When Tom hesitates, Ryan's grin turns a little bit evil, his expression almost predatory. "I promise I do bite."
Sean laughs and pulls away from Ryan, crawling over to Tom and leaning in to kiss him. It takes Tom a few seconds to kiss him back. He doesn't want to fuck this up, but he’s thinking about what Jon said, that Tom needed to let go and trust. Of course, they were talking about the pack in general, not sex with a couple of his packmates, but Tom figures the same concepts apply.
When Sean starts to sit back, Tom follows him, not wanting to pull away. He feels Sean's hand slide over his thigh and up his side, fingers curling in Tom's shirt and pulling him closer. Tom pushes Sean back against the couch and climbs into his lap, one hand on the back of the couch for balance and the other sliding through Sean's hair. Sean's hands are slipping under Tom's shirt, just enough pressure for Tom to feel like it's not enough.
He tries to keep the kiss easy, the way Sean started it, but it's not in him to resist the urge to bite and mark and claim. He bites Sean's lip before pulling his head back, scrapes his teeth over Sean's stubble and shifts so he can sink his teeth into Sean's neck. Sean's breath is coming rushed and harsh above him, punctuated by this little whimpering sound that Tom really really likes. Tom's so wrapped up in Sean that he doesn't even sense Ryan, doesn't know he's there until Ryan presses up behind him, bending down to whisper in Tom's ear.
"You're ours, Thomas Alfred Conrad." If his voice and his words weren’t enough to make Tom shiver, the feel of his teeth nipping at Tom's ear would be.
Tom makes a slight whimpering sound of his own, letting go of the skin between his teeth and smoothing his tongue over the indentations he’s left behind. Ryan laughs, straightening up but keeping his hands on Tom.
“We got a bed upstairs. Granted, there’s no dinosaur sheets, but-“
“Shut up,” Tom cuts him off with a laugh, sliding off Sean’s lap to stand up. Ryan’s still pressed right against his back and when Tom takes Sean’s hand to pull him up, for a moment he’s stuck in between the two of them. He likes it. “What’s this about a bed?”
Tom’s never been upstairs, which is probably strange considering how much time he’s spent at the house. He’s not as surprised as he once would have been to find there are only four doors that open off the hallway - three bedrooms and a bathroom. The only one he’s interested in is the one at the end of the hall. He follows Ryan like it’s an everyday thing, and Sean doesn’t let go of Tom’s hand until they’re in the room. Tom falls on the bed, onto blankets that smell of SeanandRyan, and leans back on his elbows to watch as Ryan reaches for Sean.
Ryan doesn’t even try to be gentle with his kisses, and Tom’s not sure if he’s more jealous of the way Sean just gives in and lets Ryan take or the way Ryan bites Sean’s lip hard enough to draw blood. Tom doesn’t know if he wants to watch or get into the middle of that, mark and be marked. He kinda wishes he had his camera and he makes a note to bring it next time. There had better be a next time. He doesn’t think once will be enough for him.
Ryan pulls Sean's shirt up over his head and tosses it to the side. Sean's skin is spattered with marks, mostly ones clearly left by Ryan's teeth or fingers, some more faded than others. There are a few scars Tom can't place, but he knows they're the result of a decidedly less-than-sexy encounter, especially the trio of marks across the soft part of his stomach that look like claw marks. They're pale and obviously old, but that doesn't stop the rush of anger and protectiveness Tom feels.
Ryan's hands linger over the scars for a moment even though he's not looking at them, and Tom wonders how long they've been doing this, to know each other this well. He also wonders why he can't turn off the thinky part of his brain when he's got what is essentially his own personal live porn going on in front of him.
Ryan and Sean are directly beside the bed - Tom can feel their legs brushing against his - and if he sat up he'd be close enough to touch both of them. He's still trying to let them set the pace of things, though, to let them dictate his role in this, but when Ryan's shirt comes off, he can't resist.
Ryan's injury is in that stage between healed and scarred, still angry-looking red and sensitive but no longer something to worry about. Tom presses his fingers against it, ignoring Ryan's hiss of pain - he imagines Sean's touch is always a bit lighter - and follows the movement with his tongue. Ryan's stomach is all smooth muscle and warm skin, and Tom has a hard time not scraping his teeth along the edges of the reddened area, just to see what kind of reaction he gets. Instead, he nuzzles against Ryan's side, breathing in the scent and sense of Ryan.
Tom feels fingers slide through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging just a little, and another set of fingers - Sean’s - sliding across Ryan’s belly to tangle with his own. He pushes back into the touch on his head - Ryan isn’t the only one who likes to be petted - and pulls Sean’s fingers to his mouth, looking up at them. Ryan lets go of Sean and reaches for Tom, pulling him to his feet.
Ryan’s kisses are rough and slick and different than Sean’s, and Tom’s caught up in the tastes mingled on his tongues and the not-so-subtle way Ryan’s tugging at his shirt. When Tom turns around after pulling his shirt off, Sean’s stretched out naked on the bed. Tom glances at Ryan, not exactly seeking permission but looking for some sort of sign. Ryan grins and gives him a playful shove. “Go for it.”
Tom doesn’t need any more encouragement. He quickly steps out of his sweatpants and clambers up onto the bed. His kiss is probably a little too enthusiastic, if Ryan’s laughter is anything to go by, but fuck, he’s been waiting for this. Wanting. And now he’s got Sean laid out beneath him, and Tom can lick, bite, tease, taunt to his little heart’s content. There’s a half-circle of fingerprint-shaped bruises on his hips, symmetrical and perfect, still just the slightest bit tender, and Tom deliberately presses his fingers over the same spot, holds Sean down while he blows him. Tom is a tease; he likes drawing it out, seeing just how much he can make Sean whimper and moan and beg. Ryan’s the unknown in this, though, running his hands over both of them, stretching out to kiss Sean, slow and sloppy and swallowing all those little sounds Tom is trying to elicit. He whispers something Tom doesn’t catch, but it must be good because Sean comes with a choked out sound that’s almost a mix of Tom and Ryan’s names.
After Tom sucks Sean off, he works his way back up Sean’s stomach and chest with more licks and nips, and kisses Sean. Ryan presses against Tom’s back, hot and heavy but not forcing him down, and brings one hand around Tom to jerk him off, bites at the back of his neck. His other hand is on the bed beside them and Tom slides his fingers over Ryan’s.
The kiss Tom and Sean are sharing is messy and uncoordinated and completely out of sync with the way Ryan is sliding his fist over Tom’s cock, despite the way Sean is working his tongue in the same rhythm. Tom is mostly trying to keep his mouth occupied, to keep himself from spilling out secrets that aren’t really secrets. Sean and Ryan both already know how he feels, but saying the words out loud means something more.
Tom can feel the bruise forming where Ryan is biting, and between the teeth and the touch and Sean still all warm and pliant beneath him, Tom’s finding it hard to think. Hard to breathe.
“Tom,” Ryan whispers, pulling away just a little.
Tom tilts his head, trying to tempt Ryan back, give him better access. This gives Sean the opportunity to bite his chin. Sean is more puppyish than Ryan, less serious, all nips and lips and scraping his teeth against along Tom’s cheek and muttering TomRyan like they’re two parts of the same whole. He kisses Ryan over Tom’s shoulder, chest slick with sweat pressing against Tom as he leans up. Tom wants to press down, wants full body contact with Sean, wants to force Ryan’s hand to speed up, a little tighter a little harder a little faster. Sean relaxes against the bed once more, hands coming to hold Tom’s hips steady.
“Hey, Tom.”
Tom forces himself to give in to the way Sean’s holding him still, open his eyes and focus on Sean’s oh-so-blue ones. Ryan’s cock is pressing hot and hard and insistent against his ass and Tom lets out a plaintive little whine. He understands where Sean’s confusion came from when he smushed their names together, bites his lip hard enough to bring blood but still not managing to hold in the “SeanRyan” and the “please.” He doesn’t know what he wants, what he’s asking for. He wants them to let him go, let him fall down on Sean and rut against him. He wants them to hold him where he is, for Ryan to fuck him, make him beg and whine and need, and have Sean there to swallow the sounds. Right now he’s at their mercy; the only friction he’s getting is from Ryan’s hand. He can’t rock forward into the touch or push back against Ryan’s dick. It’s unfair and so fucking hot.
Sean lifts his head up, sucks Tom’s lower lip into his mouth and worries it with his teeth. His lips are bright red - blood red - when he pulls away. “Tom,” he repeats. Tom mutters something even he doesn’t understand and Sean grins at him, glances over his shoulder at Ryan. “Kiss me.”
Tom leans in to comply, lick his own blood off Sean’s lips, bites his tongue. Ryan speeds up his hand, twisting it a bit. Tom’s focused on that, and on the way Sean’s fingers are flexing sure and solid against his hips, and loses the kiss again. He’s just breathing against Sean’s mouth, doesn’t realize at first that Sean’s chanting “ours ours ours” against his lips.
“Ours.” Ryan’s agreement is rough and growly and fierce, and punctuated by his teeth digging sharply into Tom’s shoulder. Tom comes, shaking, and he’s glad Sean’s there to hold him up. Ryan keeps stroking him through it, running his hand over the head of Tom’s cock and through the mess on Sean’s stomach. He straightens up, jerking himself off over Tom’s back. Tom falls against Sean, heavy and languid, shaky and breathing hard, and lets Sean pet him as he comes down. Ryan comes quickly, hot and sticky over Tom’s back, and lets his weight rest mostly but not fully on top of Tom and Sean for a minute, a pile of sweaty, satiated skin. Ryan sighs and slips over onto his side beside them. Tom rolls over to the other side, keeping one leg firmly over top of Sean’s, and leans over to kiss Ryan. Both Ryan and Sean look happy but tired, the way Tom feels.
“Next time,” Tom mumbles sleepily, pulling back and settling down against Sean, “someone had better fuck me.”
“Next time,” Ryan replies, smirking and fitting himself against Sean’s other side, “I plan to.”