(no subject)
Title: Meant For Breaking
Author: Becky_H
Character(s): Bobby/Tommy (the acrobat twins)/Jack.
Genre: PWP
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers Very vague ones for TKKS.
Warnings: Threesome, incest, double-penetration.
Word Count: 2,100
Beta: Matsujo9
Prompt: Set2Music Prompt 19: If you're ready, I'm willing and able
Summary: There's no plot. There's just porn with Jack, a set of acrobat twins, and double penetration.
Author's Notes: There's a short, meme response follow-up here
There wasn't a lot that scared Jack. Of the few things that did, most were universe- or, at least, world-ending disasters. None of them had a thing to do with sex, and right up until about thirty seconds ago, he would have sworn that there was nothing about sex -- at least consensual sex -- that could shake the hell out of him.
He'd been around for more than a century. He should have known better to even think in absolutes.
He was on top of one of his acrobatic boyfriends, being fucked slowly while the other boyfriend -- his twin -- lay beside them, hand resting on Jack's back. Jack wasn't sure what or who was setting the pace: him riding the man under him, the lift and thrust into him, or the slow press and release of the hand against his back.
He wasn't really thinking about it all that much. It was familiar, but the slow build toward orgasm never got old and it never stopped his brain shutting down. He was relaxed and comfortable, warm, and happy to let heat of arousal low in his stomach, coil and twist and build. When he was pulled down so his forehead was pressed against one of the twin's -- he wasn't even sure who it was -- he didn't resist. He bent, tilted his head and caught the soft mouth beneath his in a slick, hot, demanding kiss.
He was still lost inside that kiss when the hand on his back slid lower, over the curve of his ass and curled around the back of his thigh, high enough that the fingers were just brushing the cock that was moving into him. Jack made a low sound, half appreciation of the extra sensation, half questioning. The hand the other twin had on the back of his neck responded by tightening a bit, the vaguely worrying fingers didn't move, and Jack decided it was too nice to bother worrying about.
When the bed shifted and the fingers disappeared, Jack pulled away from the kiss and pushed up to figure out where the second twin -- and bother it all, he should be able to tell them apart by now -- was going. Nowhere far, as it turned out. Jack watched him get the lube and kneel behind Jack, settling near his brother's knees. The twin fucking Jack stopped moving and slung his arm low around Jack's waist.
Jack didn't think anything of it until he watched the second twin slick his fingers rather than his cock. At that, he looked between the two, his expression wary. Despite the undeniable appeal of auburn hair falling over their foreheads, it didn’t ease his mind when they both flashed quick grins that lit up their green eyes.
The twin under Jack lifted his hips and his thrust did more than nudge against Jack's prostate. It hit solidly, held there just long enough for Jack to arch his back, for him to forget his unease and thrust back onto the twin’s cock with a deep groan. Jack realized through a haze of sensation, that Bobby was the one fucking him; Tommy was never, ever, that direct.
Bobby wrapped his long fingers loosely around Jack's cock. Jack made a rough sound in the back of his throat, something that tried to be a growl but, when Bobby's thumb circled lightly around the head of his cock, turned into a moan. Something that was a lot more needy than it was demanding.
He was so lost in feeling and frustration that he almost didn't notice Bobby's slight nod, not to Jack, but to where his brother was still kneeling behind them. There was the warm slick glide of two fingers along his ass, stroking around Bobby's cock, then pushing inside Jack, along with it.
The stretch was there, a bit uncomfortable, but not all that bad. The implication, on the other hand, made his pulse race and his breath catch. He dropped his forehead down, arched and bent, so that he could bite at Bobby's ear and shoulder, teeth blunt and careful not to break skin, but still venting some of his arousal and fear in aggression.
Bobby hissed through his teeth in response, lifted his hips into Jack and tightened the hand around Jack's cock. "Do you want to stop?" Bobby asked, voice strained.
Jack could feel Bobby's cock all that much more with Tommy's fingers inside him, and when those fingers flexed, twisted and slid in silent echo of Bobby's question, the only response Jack could -- or wanted -- to give was, "Fuck, no."
Jack could hear the grin in Tommy's voice when he said, "Didn't think so."
When Bobby caught Jack’s mouth in a deep, fast, kiss he felt the mirror image of Tommy's grin, and when he pulled back, he could see it.
"I knew you could do it," Bobby told him. He sounded almost childishly gleeful; it worried Jack a little.
"I haven't done it yet," Jack reminded him. "And I'm not going to if you don't both get on with it."
The twins laughed in unison, Bobby slid his thumb across the head of Jack's cock and lifted his hips just a bit as Tommy pulled his fingers free and pushed back in with three. That was almost too much. The burn of the stretch, the extra pressure, the sharp shock of direct sensation. Jack stopped breathing altogether, cock hardening that tiny extra bit in response.
That extra bit of arousal eased the intensity of the stretch, kept it from becoming too much. As pre-come eased Bobby's hand over Jack's cock, slick and sliding, his arousal notched up even more. He could feel the fingers inside him moving against Bobby's cock, feel the response Bobby was having to them in his racing pulse, his shallow breath. Jack fell into it, barely aware of anything outside the men who surrounded him.
The hand around his cock stopped, the fingers inside him slid free and were replaced by the unmistakable heat and blunt solidity of Tommy's cock. Jack stopped moving entirely and nearly stopped breathing. With the slow press and unbelievable stretch of that second cock moving into him, his fingers curled down into Bobby's shoulders, hard enough to bruise.
Jack shook as he fought to keep breathing and fought the instinctive urge to tighten up. He knew, he knew, with what was left of his functioning brain, that if he tensed up now it wouldn't just hurt, it would hurt him. The difference was enough to keep him mostly relaxed as the slow press in continued for what seemed like forever but was, of course, very finite.
When Tommy stopped moving, completely buried inside Jack, Bobby lifted a hand to Jack's face, curled his fingers around Jack's jaw and stroked his thumb over his lower lip. Jack turned his head and nipped sharply, and Bobby arched his back upward. Even that slight motion was enough to break Jack's fragile control.
He tensed -- from his fingers on Bobby's shoulders to his thighs against Tommy's -- including his ass around both their cocks. His breath turned into something dangerously close to a sob at the ache of it, at the sheer overwhelming heat, weight and feeling of being so completely surrounded and taken.
"It's OK, Jack! We've got you!" Bobby sounded as if he was almost in pain, his voice tight and strained with more than arousal and with an edge that Jack rarely heard from him.
Tommy's echoed "we have you" was more familiar. Lower and steadier, there was no edge at all, but there was undeniable strength. Bobby had always been the one with a penchant for dramatics.
Jack was able -- with their verbal reassurance, with Tommy's hand smoothing along his back as Bobby lightly stroked his cock -- to relax in gradual increments, to allow arousal to return, and to begin to breathe again.
They waited for him, gently easing his arousal higher until need took the place of tension and fear, they waited for the stuttering exhale that signaled the shift. Bobby let go of Jack's cock and moved his hand to Tommy's hip. Tommy pressed against Jack's back, urging him down at an awkward angle that Jack was barely flexible enough to manage. Then, with breathtaking timing and stunning grace, they began to move.
With everything that close, that tight, there was no way it was going to be fast, or hard, or anything but slow and careful. Jack didn't move at all, but Tommy and Bobby quickly found a rhythm, a slick slide of press and release, moving counterpoint to one another. With each subtle motion ending with his cock brushing against Bobby's stomach and with near-constant pressure against his prostate, Jack didn't need to move.
There was sweat in his eyes, stinging and salty. His thighs and back ached with the strain of his position. Arousal built, and with it, tension. Gradually at first, then as he was moved closer and closer to the edge, uncomfortable and undeniable. Bobby hissed through his teeth. Tommy leaned forward and bit sharply at the edge of Jack's ear. "Don't come," he warned, his voice sandpaper rough, breath warm against the side of Jack's face.
There was no way he could come without tensing up, and while he might have adjusted around them enough to avoid hurting himself, it wouldn't be comfortable for either of them. He nodded tersely to indicate that he understood, and was given a kiss to the back of his neck in return. He pressed his forehead against Bobby's shoulder, closed his eyes tightly, and held on.
They were less careful, then. Tommy straightened, put his hands on Jack's hips as Bobby moved his hands to Jack’s waist. Their thrusts became harder, longer. There was more motion, more friction, more sensation. Jack had to work to stay relaxed and not coming became increasingly hard.
By the time he felt their rhythm falter -- Bobby going tense against him -- the ache in Jack's ass had spread to his balls and he was breathing through his teeth. His fingers curled, and he made a low, sympathetic sound as the tension in the man under him broke in a warm wave that stung like hell, made him go rigid and cry out softly.
Jack's wordless exclamation was echoed by Bobby, then, for a moment, all three were still, with only the sound of their breathing to break the silence.
They still hadn't recovered completely when Tommy used his grip on Jack's hips to pull him up, while Bobby pulled back and out of Jack. He didn't move out from under him, even when Tommy started to fuck Jack in earnest.
It was almost too slick, almost “not enough” in the same way both of them had come close to being too much, but the force of it, the angle, and finally, Bobby's hand wrapping around Jack's cock, was more than enough. He snarled and bit down hard on Bobby's shoulder as he came, wringing a ragged scream out of the other man. It was echoed by his brother's shout as he followed Jack over that metaphorical ledge and into the drop.
When Jack came back to himself, he was half-sprawled on top of Bobby, with Tommy's arm and leg draped across him. All three were sticky, and the room reeked of sex and sweat. The bed was a mess, the sheets were coming off, and his entire body ached. His ass, in particular, was sore, and he was exhausted in a way that made thinking as impossible as moving.
What he was mostly, he realized as he shifted his position, groaning when his strained muscles protested, was really and completely sated. Satisfied. Proud of himself. Good.
He should probably scare himself more, he thought and yawned so wide that his eyes watered, his jaw cracked, and both of the twins shot him inquiring glances. He'd think about it more, he decided, after he'd had some sleep.
At least tonight he wouldn't have to worry about nightmares.
Author: Becky_H
Character(s): Bobby/Tommy (the acrobat twins)/Jack.
Genre: PWP
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers Very vague ones for TKKS.
Warnings: Threesome, incest, double-penetration.
Word Count: 2,100
Beta: Matsujo9
Prompt: Set2Music Prompt 19: If you're ready, I'm willing and able
Summary: There's no plot. There's just porn with Jack, a set of acrobat twins, and double penetration.
Author's Notes: There's a short, meme response follow-up here
There wasn't a lot that scared Jack. Of the few things that did, most were universe- or, at least, world-ending disasters. None of them had a thing to do with sex, and right up until about thirty seconds ago, he would have sworn that there was nothing about sex -- at least consensual sex -- that could shake the hell out of him.
He'd been around for more than a century. He should have known better to even think in absolutes.
He was on top of one of his acrobatic boyfriends, being fucked slowly while the other boyfriend -- his twin -- lay beside them, hand resting on Jack's back. Jack wasn't sure what or who was setting the pace: him riding the man under him, the lift and thrust into him, or the slow press and release of the hand against his back.
He wasn't really thinking about it all that much. It was familiar, but the slow build toward orgasm never got old and it never stopped his brain shutting down. He was relaxed and comfortable, warm, and happy to let heat of arousal low in his stomach, coil and twist and build. When he was pulled down so his forehead was pressed against one of the twin's -- he wasn't even sure who it was -- he didn't resist. He bent, tilted his head and caught the soft mouth beneath his in a slick, hot, demanding kiss.
He was still lost inside that kiss when the hand on his back slid lower, over the curve of his ass and curled around the back of his thigh, high enough that the fingers were just brushing the cock that was moving into him. Jack made a low sound, half appreciation of the extra sensation, half questioning. The hand the other twin had on the back of his neck responded by tightening a bit, the vaguely worrying fingers didn't move, and Jack decided it was too nice to bother worrying about.
When the bed shifted and the fingers disappeared, Jack pulled away from the kiss and pushed up to figure out where the second twin -- and bother it all, he should be able to tell them apart by now -- was going. Nowhere far, as it turned out. Jack watched him get the lube and kneel behind Jack, settling near his brother's knees. The twin fucking Jack stopped moving and slung his arm low around Jack's waist.
Jack didn't think anything of it until he watched the second twin slick his fingers rather than his cock. At that, he looked between the two, his expression wary. Despite the undeniable appeal of auburn hair falling over their foreheads, it didn’t ease his mind when they both flashed quick grins that lit up their green eyes.
The twin under Jack lifted his hips and his thrust did more than nudge against Jack's prostate. It hit solidly, held there just long enough for Jack to arch his back, for him to forget his unease and thrust back onto the twin’s cock with a deep groan. Jack realized through a haze of sensation, that Bobby was the one fucking him; Tommy was never, ever, that direct.
Bobby wrapped his long fingers loosely around Jack's cock. Jack made a rough sound in the back of his throat, something that tried to be a growl but, when Bobby's thumb circled lightly around the head of his cock, turned into a moan. Something that was a lot more needy than it was demanding.
He was so lost in feeling and frustration that he almost didn't notice Bobby's slight nod, not to Jack, but to where his brother was still kneeling behind them. There was the warm slick glide of two fingers along his ass, stroking around Bobby's cock, then pushing inside Jack, along with it.
The stretch was there, a bit uncomfortable, but not all that bad. The implication, on the other hand, made his pulse race and his breath catch. He dropped his forehead down, arched and bent, so that he could bite at Bobby's ear and shoulder, teeth blunt and careful not to break skin, but still venting some of his arousal and fear in aggression.
Bobby hissed through his teeth in response, lifted his hips into Jack and tightened the hand around Jack's cock. "Do you want to stop?" Bobby asked, voice strained.
Jack could feel Bobby's cock all that much more with Tommy's fingers inside him, and when those fingers flexed, twisted and slid in silent echo of Bobby's question, the only response Jack could -- or wanted -- to give was, "Fuck, no."
Jack could hear the grin in Tommy's voice when he said, "Didn't think so."
When Bobby caught Jack’s mouth in a deep, fast, kiss he felt the mirror image of Tommy's grin, and when he pulled back, he could see it.
"I knew you could do it," Bobby told him. He sounded almost childishly gleeful; it worried Jack a little.
"I haven't done it yet," Jack reminded him. "And I'm not going to if you don't both get on with it."
The twins laughed in unison, Bobby slid his thumb across the head of Jack's cock and lifted his hips just a bit as Tommy pulled his fingers free and pushed back in with three. That was almost too much. The burn of the stretch, the extra pressure, the sharp shock of direct sensation. Jack stopped breathing altogether, cock hardening that tiny extra bit in response.
That extra bit of arousal eased the intensity of the stretch, kept it from becoming too much. As pre-come eased Bobby's hand over Jack's cock, slick and sliding, his arousal notched up even more. He could feel the fingers inside him moving against Bobby's cock, feel the response Bobby was having to them in his racing pulse, his shallow breath. Jack fell into it, barely aware of anything outside the men who surrounded him.
The hand around his cock stopped, the fingers inside him slid free and were replaced by the unmistakable heat and blunt solidity of Tommy's cock. Jack stopped moving entirely and nearly stopped breathing. With the slow press and unbelievable stretch of that second cock moving into him, his fingers curled down into Bobby's shoulders, hard enough to bruise.
Jack shook as he fought to keep breathing and fought the instinctive urge to tighten up. He knew, he knew, with what was left of his functioning brain, that if he tensed up now it wouldn't just hurt, it would hurt him. The difference was enough to keep him mostly relaxed as the slow press in continued for what seemed like forever but was, of course, very finite.
When Tommy stopped moving, completely buried inside Jack, Bobby lifted a hand to Jack's face, curled his fingers around Jack's jaw and stroked his thumb over his lower lip. Jack turned his head and nipped sharply, and Bobby arched his back upward. Even that slight motion was enough to break Jack's fragile control.
He tensed -- from his fingers on Bobby's shoulders to his thighs against Tommy's -- including his ass around both their cocks. His breath turned into something dangerously close to a sob at the ache of it, at the sheer overwhelming heat, weight and feeling of being so completely surrounded and taken.
"It's OK, Jack! We've got you!" Bobby sounded as if he was almost in pain, his voice tight and strained with more than arousal and with an edge that Jack rarely heard from him.
Tommy's echoed "we have you" was more familiar. Lower and steadier, there was no edge at all, but there was undeniable strength. Bobby had always been the one with a penchant for dramatics.
Jack was able -- with their verbal reassurance, with Tommy's hand smoothing along his back as Bobby lightly stroked his cock -- to relax in gradual increments, to allow arousal to return, and to begin to breathe again.
They waited for him, gently easing his arousal higher until need took the place of tension and fear, they waited for the stuttering exhale that signaled the shift. Bobby let go of Jack's cock and moved his hand to Tommy's hip. Tommy pressed against Jack's back, urging him down at an awkward angle that Jack was barely flexible enough to manage. Then, with breathtaking timing and stunning grace, they began to move.
With everything that close, that tight, there was no way it was going to be fast, or hard, or anything but slow and careful. Jack didn't move at all, but Tommy and Bobby quickly found a rhythm, a slick slide of press and release, moving counterpoint to one another. With each subtle motion ending with his cock brushing against Bobby's stomach and with near-constant pressure against his prostate, Jack didn't need to move.
There was sweat in his eyes, stinging and salty. His thighs and back ached with the strain of his position. Arousal built, and with it, tension. Gradually at first, then as he was moved closer and closer to the edge, uncomfortable and undeniable. Bobby hissed through his teeth. Tommy leaned forward and bit sharply at the edge of Jack's ear. "Don't come," he warned, his voice sandpaper rough, breath warm against the side of Jack's face.
There was no way he could come without tensing up, and while he might have adjusted around them enough to avoid hurting himself, it wouldn't be comfortable for either of them. He nodded tersely to indicate that he understood, and was given a kiss to the back of his neck in return. He pressed his forehead against Bobby's shoulder, closed his eyes tightly, and held on.
They were less careful, then. Tommy straightened, put his hands on Jack's hips as Bobby moved his hands to Jack’s waist. Their thrusts became harder, longer. There was more motion, more friction, more sensation. Jack had to work to stay relaxed and not coming became increasingly hard.
By the time he felt their rhythm falter -- Bobby going tense against him -- the ache in Jack's ass had spread to his balls and he was breathing through his teeth. His fingers curled, and he made a low, sympathetic sound as the tension in the man under him broke in a warm wave that stung like hell, made him go rigid and cry out softly.
Jack's wordless exclamation was echoed by Bobby, then, for a moment, all three were still, with only the sound of their breathing to break the silence.
They still hadn't recovered completely when Tommy used his grip on Jack's hips to pull him up, while Bobby pulled back and out of Jack. He didn't move out from under him, even when Tommy started to fuck Jack in earnest.
It was almost too slick, almost “not enough” in the same way both of them had come close to being too much, but the force of it, the angle, and finally, Bobby's hand wrapping around Jack's cock, was more than enough. He snarled and bit down hard on Bobby's shoulder as he came, wringing a ragged scream out of the other man. It was echoed by his brother's shout as he followed Jack over that metaphorical ledge and into the drop.
When Jack came back to himself, he was half-sprawled on top of Bobby, with Tommy's arm and leg draped across him. All three were sticky, and the room reeked of sex and sweat. The bed was a mess, the sheets were coming off, and his entire body ached. His ass, in particular, was sore, and he was exhausted in a way that made thinking as impossible as moving.
What he was mostly, he realized as he shifted his position, groaning when his strained muscles protested, was really and completely sated. Satisfied. Proud of himself. Good.
He should probably scare himself more, he thought and yawned so wide that his eyes watered, his jaw cracked, and both of the twins shot him inquiring glances. He'd think about it more, he decided, after he'd had some sleep.
At least tonight he wouldn't have to worry about nightmares.