somepoorsoul | (no subject)

(no subject)

The night is damp and chilly for May, but that has not stopped the university’s young revelers from stumbling about in drunken celebration, even past midnight. Athos only ever comes this far north to visit the stables, and it is strange to be here so late at night, amongst the older, more scattered houses, stuffed full of students nine months out of the year. Outside the university, neighborhoods fall away to countryside fairly quickly; it is no surprise that so many could so easily go missing.

Athos has spoken little during their late-night trek to the edge of campus, thoughts focused, as best he can, on the task at hand. Is he glad that Porthos agreed to come along, or nervous? He still trusts Porthos with his life, and always will, but he fears that the man has been guilted or coerced into this venture. Believing what he does (knowing what he does), why would he follow Athos anywhere?

But they are here now. Athos leans against a lamppost that leaves him half-illuminated. Celebrants are now stumbling home in ones and twos, and fewer of them seem out and about. If the vampires intend to strike tonight, it will likely be soon, now that most students have gone home, leaving the more foolish (and the more drunk) to venture into the darkness alone and vulnerable. He glances at Aramis, their "bait" for the night, and then, briefly, meets Porthos' gaze. “Still up for this?" he asks them both.

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"Perhaps," Aramis considers, "But why deny you the show? He will simply have to ride you with precision." He takes them each by the hand to lead them to the bed.

Aramis sets his knees to it first, crawling over to retrieve the lube from their bedside table before fixing Athos with a look. "You can do that, can't you, darling?"

"You want to do both at once," Athos realizes, eyes going wide. He snorts and grins, ducking his head as he re-adjusts his expectations in his mind. He sneaks a look at look at Porthos, and then looks at Aramis with a lifted brow. "You truly are mad, but if you think you can manage it..." He approaches the bed and nudges Porthos onto it, leaning over him to kiss him.

"Well, what would you like to do?" Porthos retorts with a smirk, feeling like this is child's play compared to some of the flexible things that he's asked Aramis to do in the past. "Take turns? Neither of us are patient enough for that," he mumbles into the kiss, muffled now.

"It's certainly worth a try," agrees Aramis. He holds the tube between his hands to warm it, watching them from the pillows. "Hardly the most unusual thing we've attempted, at any rate."

Athos inclines his head slightly, conceding both their points. Their lurid imaginations are bottomless, but Athos is rarely in a position to complain. Shooting Aramis a smirk, he pushes Porthos back to lie upon the bed, straddling his torso as he leans down to kiss him languidly. When they break for air, he nudges’ his nose against Porthos’, and then begins to mark a trail of kisses down his neck, knowing the man could throw him over if he wanted to. The thought is thrilling in its own way, for Athos is in control, and yet not in control, and though hid nerves still tingle with uncertain anticipation, he wants all of it, desperately.

Porthos is happy on the bed, grinning as he leans back for the kiss, enjoying the feel of their high-count thread sheets on his bare, drying skin. He submits to the touch, allowing himself to give himself over to the control that Athos seems to need so much here. "Aramis," he coaxes, breathless. "I think there's a great bit of Athos going unkissed right now, and that's a shame."

"Do you think I intend to be idle?" asks Aramis with a laugh, settling behind Athos. He leans in to kiss his nape, mouthing down the nobs of his spine. The lubricant is warm now, his fingers slippery with it when he coaxes his hand between Athos' legs, rubbing them against his hole. "Just enough this time," he says, half to himself as he begins a cursory stretch. "I think you'd like to feel him for days."

Athos groans in pleased surprise, pressing his forehead against Porthos’ as his heart begins to beat faster in response to Aramis' touch and his words. His heart swells at this chance to look down at Porthos, to see him smile, and see his eyes filled with warmth, and not the hurt, or anger, or disgust he has expected to see there of late. Athos is not sure he deserves Porthos’ forgiveness for whatever crimes he may commit in the future, but he has grateful to have gotten it - or something close enough.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a fierce kiss to the man’s temple.

"I love you too," Porthos replies, trying not to make it sound flippant because he knows that Athos needs to hear the truth of it in his words right now. He digs his fingers through Athos' hair as he gives him a tender-hearted look, fond as anything. "I never stop, I never will, just the same as Aramis never will."

Aramis works Athos open, entertaining himself by matching each catch of the man's breath to another twist of his fingers, and before long he is sitting back. "I think that will be enough," he says, grasping Athos' hips in slippery fingers. "Shall I help you down?"

Breathing ragged by now, and grasping at the last bare vestiges of control, Athos kisses Porthos fiercely once more, eager to feel the man inside him. He straightens and manages a small nod, not quite because he requires Aramis’ help, but because he relishes the feel of Aramis’ fingers gripping hard at his hips, and does not want to see them gone quite yet. Letting Aramis guide him, he gasps as he sinks down onto Porthos’ cock, head tipping back slightly as he lets the sensation of being filled wash over him.

There is nothing in the world more beautiful and wonderful and incredible than being able to watch Athos lose control from such a close vantage point. His heart skips a rapid beat, sliding his thumbs slowly up Athos' sides as he digs in, running them over Aramis' hands in order to hold onto both of them at once.

"Gently, now," he coaxes softly, with a fond smile. "There you are, there you are, Athos," he continues, like he's talking to a spooked horse. "I've got you."

Aramis kisses Athos' throat as he settles, giving in to the urge to let his hands wander, over Athos' belly and chest, his sides, down the curves of his arse and even below, brushing the place where he and Porthos are joined. Aramis sighs, contentment and want all at once, and waits for Athos to adjust.

Athos whines softly, forcing himself to remain patient and allow his body to adjust. Balancing with his hands on Porthos' chest, he rests where he is for a moment, and then sinks down a little further. Gasping once again, he finally, carefully, begins to move.

Porthos, for his part, has no intention to move. He plans to let Athos do as much of it for him as possible. He does gasp, softly, when Aramis' hand is there unexpectedly and his hips buck upwards, pushing him further into Athos without really meaning to. Apology swiftly falls over his face, but it vanishes with a rueful smile because he's not that sorry.

"Oh, lapin, you're so warm," he sighs.

Aramis hums for the buck, knowing very well how such a thrust feels inside, and relishes the sensation of his own aching cock against Athos' smooth back. "You will entice me to remain where I am," he laughs breathlessly.

Athos has no interest in apologies, anyway; he groans at the feeling of that unexpected thrust, for Porthos' cock nudges against that spot inside him that always makes him tremble with pleasure. He continues to move, taking Porthos' deeper with each rock of his hips, senses becoming fragmented as his need builds. "You better not," he says with a shaky, breathless smile, for now that the thought has been fixed upon his mind, he cannot escape the need he has to feel Aramis' mouth upon him.

Porthos had never really thought too hard about what Athos would look like undone, before all this. He'd let his imagination stray to kisses and touches, but never so far as to think about him like this, and god, but he can't help the wonder in his eyes as he stares at Athos now, glancing at Aramis with a teasing smirk. "C'mon, chou. Don't leave our darling waiting."

Aramis thrusts forward for one last tantalizing drag of pleasure and obliges, settling in on his elbow next to Porthos as he considers. After a moment of watching them move, he slings his arm across Porthos' torso to brace on the other side, levered just high enough to receive Athos' cock as he lifts himself. Aramis opens his mouth and lets him slide loosely through his hand, taking Athos along his tongue the next time he rises.

Athos groans, lightning shooting up his spine as Aramis takes him in his mouth. Now, every move he makes earns him a new kind of pleasure, leaving him panting and gasping. For all their sakes, he tries to keep his movements steady and slow, but doing so requires all his control. “Oh yes, oh please-“ the words tumble over his lips between gasps. “Fuck, yes-"

Clever, clever man. Porthos knows he loves him for a reason and this is just one of many. He stares up at Athos with sheer wonder, giving a punctuated little snap of his hips to see if he can't steal all those pretty little words from Athos' lips, even more than they already are gone.

Aramis relaxes his mouth and throat, his arm holding him steadily in place as Athos moves and curses and groans. He keeps a hand at his arse, guiding him as best he can as pleasure threatens to rob Athos of precision.

“Porthos,” he gasps as the man thrusts further inside him. Damn it all, he loves this, and loves Aramis and Porthos both for giving it to him, Only with them has he managed to entirely quiet the voices that tell him that what he desires most is shameful. Athos draws out his pleasure for as long as he can, but finally he tips his head back, moaning shakily as he comes into Aramis’ mouth.

Well, that's unexpected. Not entirely, because that's the whole point of what they're doing, but his thrill shows on his face when Athos comes so soon, like a child who's been giving a treat and a toy for a job well done. "Aramis," he murmurs. "Come up here and kiss me so I can taste him."

Aramis hums in encouragement when he sees the telltale tremor of Athos' thighs, and he swallows him completely, not letting a drop past his lips. When he pulls off him at last, Aramis kisses his belly, grinning briefly up at him. "Can you bear to keep moving on him?" he asks, postponing Porthos' request for just a moment.