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the strings that change the faces of men

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The night’s concert had gone particularly well. No technical difficulties, no mistakes, no maimed audience members (not that that was ever a real concern, but it was something Ollie sometimes worried about), and now Ollie and Richard were on their way back to the hotel from a night of near-excessive drinking.

“Reesh,” Ollie asked, putting his hand on the guitarist’s chest to stop him in his tracks, “I think we’re not on the right street.”

“Oh, shit,” Richard’s brows drew together, “You’re right. We’ve got to loop back that way.”

He pointed to the block behind them, then gestured to the left. Sighing, the two turned around and began to walk in that direction. Richard sped forward, but then soon ran out of energy and ended up walking beside Ollie.

“Man, fuck Schneider for going back without us, he must be so comfortable right now,” Richard looked up at Ollie with a joking smile on his lips, “He must be just, lounging, lounging on the couch, feeling buzzed, maybe he’s watching TV…”

Ollie laughed, looking down at Richard, making eye contact. Richard’s cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes were still surrounded with dark makeup, a few of his light dreads hanging in front of his eyes. His head buzzing a little, Ollie scrunched his eyes shut, and then opened them again, regarding the promenade rimmed with street lights in front of them. They shined quicksilver pools of light on the sidewalk, and his and Richard’s shadows danced through each one as they walked. He looked up at the street sign and saw that they were only one block away from the hotel.

“Almost there,” Ollie said, nudging Richard.

“I’m going to kick Schneider’s ass if he’s enjoying himself.”
Ollie and Richard took the elevator upstairs, and walked down the hall as quietly as they could, despite Richard’s earlier assertions. For Ollie, it seemed like barely any time since he’d moved out of his parents’ house, and so, he walked like a dormouse as he was practiced for sneaking around. When the two arrived at the door of the room, Richard rustled his hand around in his pocket until he found the key, then, as inconspicuous as he could, slipped it into the locked and unlocked the door. He held it open, jokingly gesturing at Ollie from him to go first, and Ollie obliged.

Upon entrance, Richard and Ollie saw that Christoph had parked himself inside of the bedroom, and seemed to have shut the door.

“He’s probably asleep,” Richard whispered loud enough to wake an entire village.

Ollie considered saying something, but that was just how Richard was, and not much could be done, unfortunately. He sat down on the couch and undid his boots one by one. Then, he placed both of them to the side of the couch. Ollie drew his body up into a semi-folded sitting position on the couch and eyed Richard, as if expecting him to do the same.

“It’s too damn hot in here,” Richard said, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it aside, then leaning down to unlace his shoes.

Ollie bit the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from blushing at the strangely erotic nature of Richard’s shirtlessness. He always felt like this when he saw the guitarist undress himself; like he was illicitly watching something pornographic. It was strange.

“My damn back hurts,” Richard whined, plopping down on the couch next to Ollie.

“C’mere,” the other man murmured, his buzzed brain releasing his inhibitions, “I’ll massage it for you.”

“I can go with that,” Richard said, and Ollie spread his thighs a little, while Richard changed his sitting position so he sat between Ollie’s legs.

Richard’s hips and legs were warm through his jeans, and Ollie discovered that the same was true of his broad shoulders when he placed his hands upon them. Hesitantly, he gave Richard’s shoulders a squeeze. The guitarist responded with an affirmative purr, and leaned into Ollie’s touch. Ollie felt the blush rising in his cheeks as he kneaded at the muscle of Richard’s shoulders and neck. Slowly, he lifted one hand, and letting himself give into his drunken desires, laid it on Richard’s strong upper arm. He ran his fingers down Richard’s warm, tan skin, then picked his hand up, laying it on the center of Richard’s back. He spread his fingers out and soaked up the warmth from the other man’s flesh.

“What are you doing, exactly?” Richard inquired, leaning back against Ollie, affectionately laying his head on the other’s shoulder.

“Massaging your back,” Ollie murmured, dropping his gaze.

Damn this shyness, he thought.

“Here,” Richard said, reaching up to take Ollie’s hands in his own, then placing them gently on his bare upper chest, “It happens sometimes when you’re drunk.”

Ollie pressed his lips together, pulling his hands off Richard, and letting them hang at his sides, clenching and unclenching.

“I-I’m-- No,” Ollie stuttered out, “I’m not doing shit like that with you, Reesh.”

“Why?” Richard practically purred, turning from his spot between Ollie’s legs so he was facing the other man.

Why? Ollie echoed the question to himself. He looked Richard up and down, his eyes travelling over the other man’s smooth, sculpted torso; his long, muscular legs… Well, he supposed it was because he was shy. Richard was older than him, and so were the others, and sometimes they made him feel a bit like a teenage boy. Almost like he wasn’t quite in with the crowd. Ollie supposed it was only his own insecurities that caused that, because, from the beginning, the others had been nothing but kind to him.

“C’mon,” Richard said, getting up on his knees, and pressing a gentle peck to Ollie’s lips, “It’s just a bit of fun among friends.”

Ollie looked into Richard’s pleading green eyes, and something about the feral desperation that swam in them compelled him. He was drunk anyway, and Richard was right that some things just happen when you’re drunk. Gently, Ollie placed a hand on Richard’s cheek, feeling his jaw muscle tense against his palm. He leaned in and closed his eyes, pressing a wet kiss to Richard’s warm mouth. His confidence faltered there; how far was Richard willing to go, what did he expect?

Ollie continued to kiss him, and Richard’s frustration became palpable in the air. He made a noise of protest, and lay a hand on Ollie’s chest, pushing his mouth away from his own just enough to speak.

“Take the lead,” Richard ordered, ironically, and Ollie’s brows furrowed nervously.

“I’m not sure what to do…” he trailed off, and Richard sighed openly.

“If you need me to spell it out, I’ll take my clothes off and let you touch me,” Richard smirked, and Ollie felt himself blush deep red again.

Richard undid his jeans, and stepped out of them, then pulled his boxers unabashedly down his thighs, revealing how achingly hard he’d already become.

“Need me to lie down?” Richard asked coyly, and Ollie nodded in reply, standing from the couch, as he tried to swallow his own arousal in seeing the other man’s lithe figure displayed so shamelessly.

Just as Richard lay down on the couch, and Ollie made to straddle his waist as best as he could, Christoph’s voice disrupted them.

“Wouldn’t this be easier to do in the bedroom?” The drummer asked bluntly, causing both Ollie and Richard to jump.

Richard popped up into a seated position to see Christoph standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

“You asshole, how long have you been there?” He inquired huffily, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Long enough to see that you two need some help,” Christoph smirked, “I’ll let you have the bedroom if you let me join in.”

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends,” Richard murmured, standing from the couch, and Ollie found himself not wondering at all, but instead being grateful for whatever sort of help Christoph could offer.

“It’s because of things like this and not despite them, I think,” Christoph said, shrugging, leading the way into the bedroom with the other two behind him.

“This wasn’t gonna be anything serious,” Ollie murmured, looking at the ground, his cheeks reddening.

“Don’t worry, it’s still among friends,” Christoph said, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth, “It’s just more of a party with more people.”

“You sound like a 70’s porn VHS,” Richard rolled his eyes, and Christoph snorted out a giggle.

“Get on the bed, Richard,” Christoph said, pointing to the bed.

“I know where the bed is,” Richard said, and Ollie let out a snort of laughter into his hand.

Christoph pursed his lips at Richard, who rolled his eyes, then ungracefully got onto the bed as per request. He jokingly spread his legs apart, sticking out his tongue grotesquely. He flipped his dreads over his shoulder and harrumphed softly. Ollie couldn’t help wondering what sort of face he really made when he came. Ollie watched Christoph climb onto the bed, the mattress sagging under his weight. He looked down at Richard who now looked back at him with slight apprehension in his eyes, but a drunken smirk still resting loosely on his lips.

“Ollie,” said Christoph, the tone of his voice carrying a higher level of authority than usual, “Sit on the other side of the bed.”

It didn’t even occur to Ollie to ask why; instead, helped over gracefully (still drunken, but much more graceful than Richard) and sat on the bed across from Christoph. Richard cast a glance in his direction, unable to keep his mouth from sinking back into a smirk.

“So, what the hell are we going to do now?” Richard asked, furrowing his brow in a play-dramatic manner.

As if he didn’t start this whole damn thing, Ollie thought, almost laughing.

“Reesh, you seemed pretty eager, from what I saw,” Christoph said, taking the words right from Ollie’s brain.

Christoph pushed Richard’s legs apart, shooting a glance coyly at Ollie, then climbing to position himself between them. He laid a hand on Richard’s shoulder, leaning down to press a wet kiss to his mouth, and pulling back as he placed the other hand on Richard’s waist. He slowly ran his fingers up Richard’s side, stopping at his chest where he lay a big hand on Richard and gave him a squeeze. This elicited a soft moan from between Richard’s lips, which made Christoph smirk like a schoolboy. Gingerly, he removed himself from between Richard’s now very willingly spread legs and turned to Ollie.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” Christoph said, and Ollie looked at him in what seemed like near-terror.

“Please?” Richard asked, staring up at Ollie with puppy eyes, and slowly the bassist mimicked Christoph’s movements, positioning himself between Richard legs.

Christoph looked onward like some sort of caricature of a proud mother as Ollie leaned down to press a kiss to Richard’s mouth; gentler than Christoph’s, then looked covertly back at Christoph for guidance. He took up the role gladly.

“Stroke his hair,” Christoph said, and Ollie did so, running his fingers through Richard’s dreads, causing the other man to practically purr when he tightened his fingers in it. Ollie gave it a pull, causing Richard to let out a soft squeaking sound.

“Good God,” Richard said, trying to fight against the buzzing desire in his mind to submit by making quips, “I really am always the center of attention, huh?”

“Yeah, Ollie?” Christoph said, “Stick your fingers in his mouth to shut him up.”

Christoph was restraining laughter as Ollie took his hand out of Richard’s hair and put the tips of his pointer finger and middle finger into Richard’s mouth. Richard made an indignant noise against the intrusion, but then flicked his tongue out over the tips of Ollie’s fingers. Richard’s cheeks were flushed and his pupils were blown; he looked immensely turned on.

“Beautiful,” Ollie said, “You look beautiful, Richard.”

“Don’t inflate his ego too much,” Schneider laughed, and Richard made an indignant noise against Ollie’s fingers in reply.

On impulse, Ollie pushed his fingers gently further into Richard’s mouth, and Richard sighed.

“What… what else does he like?” Ollie hesitantly asked Christoph, wanting to play along but not knowing where to go next.

“He likes when you grab his tits,” Christoph said nonchalantly, and Richard murmured a sound of frustration against Ollie’s hand, his cheeks turning a bright red.

Ollie cupped Richard’s pec and squeezed it, then pinched his nipple. He lifted his hand to assess the reaction in Richard’s face. Richard looked equal parts annoyed and turned on, and Ollie pulled his fingers out of his mouth.

“You’re filthy, Schneider,” Richard said snarkily, turning his eyes towards Christoph.

“And you like it,” Christoph replied in measure, and leaned in to cup Richard’s pecs in his hands, kneading and squeezing them, “Don’t you, Reesh?”

Richard blushed and fell silent, though Ollie could see his stomach rising and falling in stilted, aroused breaths as his cock twitched and pressed against its inclosed space in his boxers. He was definitely enjoying it. Christoph teasingly flicked one of Richard’s nipples, then lifted his hands from the guitarist’s chest to turn to Ollie.

“You should fuck him,” Christoph said, flashing a toothy grin at Ollie, and then grabbed the bassist’s wrist, pulling him down closer to Richard’s body, forcing him to look right into the other man’s eyes.

“I-I…” Ollie started, uncertain about what to say, or do.

This situation was sudden, intense, and new. He didn't know what to do about it whatsoever.

“Come on,” Christoph said, smiling at Ollie, cordially like he would in an interview, “I know you want to do it.”

Richard smirked, and Ollie felt like a stag surrounded by hunting dogs.

“Yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, his cheeks flushing, “I do want to do it.”

“Knew it,” Richard said, looking up at Schneider with a knowing glance.

Ollie wasn't a vengeful type of person by any means, but the realization that Christoph and Richard had definitely slept together before planted an idea in his head; the idea that he needed to do a better job fucking Richard than Christoph did. He immediately pushed that away; he was content with just making Richard lose it, which didn't seem like too hard of a goal to accomplish when he thought about it more, given Richard’s inherent way of being. Christoph stuck a big hand between Richard’s thighs and wrapped it around his cock, stroking, and looked up at Ollie.

“You wanna finger him, or should I do it?” Christoph asked, accompanied by the undertone of Richard’s soft whining noises.

“I'll do it,” Ollie answered, bucking Christoph’s hand away with his own.

Christoph looked at him with wide eyes, then saved the shocked expression with a smirk.

“Alright, then,” he grinned, pulling his hand away, “You can do it.”

“Didn’t need permission,” Ollie said, his tone soft, and Christoph raised an eyebrow at the other’s growing confidence.

“I never said you did,” he responded gently, and Ollie’s resolve felt somewhat crushed.

He figured this situation wouldn’t last forever, and broke his eye contact with Christoph to instead glance at Richard, whose hair was spread out over his shoulders, and whose eyes were half shut, while his mouth hung half open with languid lust. Ollie lay a hand heavily on Richard’s thigh, spitting on the fingers of the other, and slipping the tips against Richard’s entrance. He felt hesitant again; he didn’t know what he was doing… but then, Richard let out a soft sound of pleasure, and Ollie felt empowered to slide a finger inside him.

Richard choked on his own moan, his eyes blowing wide open, as he twisted over and clapped a hand over his mouth. Ollie stilled, afraid he’d hurt him, and Richard laughed softly, pulling his hand off of his mouth, as the fearing expression melted off of his face.

“Don’t mess with Ollie like that,” Christoph said softly, coming over to the side of the bed, and sitting down near Richard’s torso, “You could have scared him.”

Ollie gently slid his finger out, and then back in, angling his gaze up to watch the developments between the other two. Richard opened his mouth, looking as if he was about to say something with attitude, and Christoph quickly wrapped his fingers into Richard’s dreads in response, giving a harsh yank, and drawing nothing but a soft, pained exhale from Richard’s lips. He held him there, training his gaze down on Ollie, who felt compelled to slide another finger inside of Richard. Richard let out another soft, pained sound, this time not daring to struggle against the advancements of the other two. He pushed his thighs further apart, welcoming the ministrations, as his cock twitched feebly against his stomach.

“He likes the pain, don’t you think?” Christoph asked, and Richard moaned softly in reply.

“I think so,” Ollie said softly, crooking his fingers up against Richard’s insides.

Richard let out a cry, and Christoph pulled his head back by his dreads again, elongating the cry into a pathetic whine.

“P-please,” Richard purred out, and Christoph grabbed his jaw with the other hand, orienting his face towards Ollie.

“Tell him what you want. Speak,” Christoph demanded harshly, and Richard’s eyelashes fluttered as he tried to pull together a reasonable reply.

“Please f-fuck me,” Richard whined, and the breathy sound was nearly enough to push Ollie over the edge right then and there.

“Schneider, do we have lube?” Ollie asked, nearly choking up.

Christoph nearly gawked at him, but instead stared with a furrowed brow, “You’re going to give in that easily? You’re not going to make him beg?”

“Please don’t make me--” Richard began, but was silenced with a yelp as Christoph pulled his dreads roughly.

“No, I want to fuck him,” Ollie replied, then worriedly added, “Is that an issue?”

He pumped his fingers in and out of Richard once again, and Richard let out a satisfying sigh.

“Hey, it’s your call; your turn,” Christoph shrugged, letting go of Richard’s hair and letting him flop roughly onto the bed.

He leaned over to the bedside table to pull it open. He pulled out a container of lube, and tossed it to Ollie. Christoph looked down at Richard and pointed one finger at him.

“When it’s my turn, I’m going to make you beg for it,” he said roughly, and Richard let out a blissed out moan in reply.

Ollie wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but, if he remembered correctly, he’d seen anal done on some of the awful porn Till had lifted from a shop once before. This wasn’t too long ago-- he should be able to remember. Ollie spurted out lube onto his fingers, much more than he thought he’d need, and made a fist around his cock, putting it on in messy globs. He tried to evenly distribute it as best as he could. With his clean hand, he slung one of Richard’s knees up over his shoulder, pulling the man’s body down the bed roughly, and scattering his dreads around his head in a halo. Richard swung his other leg over Ollie’s shoulder with a helping hand from a grinning Christoph.

Ollie wiped the rest of the lube from his fingers clumsily over Richard’s hole, and then wiped his hand off on the sheets, so he could grasp his cock cleanly. WIth the other hand, he held Richard’s thigh steadily and pressed himself against him, pressing his cock against Richard’s entrance. Richard cried out softly, the pressure against his hole palpable, and Ollie massaged his hand awkwardly against his thigh as a gesture of comfort as he pressed inside of him. Richard’s mouth hung open dumbly as he looked up at Ollie with half lidded eyes.

“Thank him,” came Christoph’s voice, directed at Richard, “For being so gentle on you, because, trust me, you don’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Richard said, looking up at Ollie.

His tone was insolent, and Christoph looked down at him with his lips twisted into a smirk, “You’re going to regret your attitude later.”

“Oh, I bet you’ll make me, won’t you, Schneider?” Richard said, smirky and happy, and the fiery look in Christoph’s eyes told Ollie that he would.

“When Ollie’s done,” Schneider flashed Ollie a smile, and then sat back in his spot on the bed.

Ollie was reminded by this exchange that he’d been sitting there for a moment, and he grabbed Richard’s thighs and pushed the rest of his length into him. He didn’t want to injure him, but from the soft yes Richard moaned in reply to his movement, he knew he hadn’t. Ollie pulled his well-lubed cock out of Richard, marvelling at how well the other man was taking him, then pushed back in with a rough stroke.

“Yes, yes, yes…” Richard hissed, trailing off as he practically shook with pleasure, “Harder, please.”

“Politeness,” Christoph noted, “That’s new.”

Ollie let out a laugh, pulling back and pushing into Richard’s tight warmth again. He thrust slowly at first, not knowing how hard would be too hard, so airing on the side of not hurting Richard badly. The steadiness and speed of his thrusts were encouraged by Richard’s soft moans that piped up into louder ones.

“Please,” Richard keened again, after Ollie had established a reasonable speed, “Harder, fuck, please…”


Ollie obeyed the request, his head growing foggy with his own pleasure as he dug his fingers into Richard’s thighs, slamming into him roughly, stroke after stroke getting hotter and faster. Pleasure built in his stomach at Richard’s walls clenching against him, his hands reaching out blindly for Ollie’s forearms, swiping at any skin they could touch as Richard moaned and whine incoherently in pleasure.

“I’m gonna--” Ollie murmured, squeezing his eyes shut out of habit as he pulled back and thrust once, twice more, into Richard, who let out a high sound.

Ollie blew his load inside the other man, slowly opening his eyes as he caught his breath. The scene around him sat still as a religious painting; Richard, with his mouth open and his eyes trained on Ollie with ashamed shock, his own cum messily sprayed on his stomach; Ollie, pleased and fulfilled with flushed cheeks, still sitting placid between Richard’s legs; and Schneider, glaring at Richard’s mess, a look of solid, motherly disapproval in his eyes.

“Did you have fun?” Christoph asked softly, looking up at Ollie with no hard feelings, “Enjoyable, isn’t he?”

“Very,” Ollie said, pulling back stiltedly, watched his own load spill out from between Richard’s thighs in a mind bogglingly erotic manner.

Christoph laughed at the look on Ollie’s face as the bassist sat back on his heels to watch as a bystander for a moment. Richard pulled himself up into a partially seated position, gingerly flopping his legs apart, his mess still apparent on his stomach and now his thighs. He looked up at Christoph, and opened his mouth as if to say something, his brow furrowed in what could be construed as apology.

“Don't speak,” Christoph responded, and Richard made a dissatisfied noise.

“Must be hard for Richard of all people,” Ollie said, the statement uncharacteristically snarky.

Christoph let out a snort of laughter, and Richard said, “Hey!” loudly, which caused Christoph to deliver a prompt slap to Richard’s thigh.

Richard playfully shrieked, his body jolting, and Christoph pulled him roughly over his knees, the smaller man’s torso suspended in mid air save for a hand grasping the headboard, and his legs spread over the bed. Richard was giggling now, and Ollie watched in amusement as Christoph slapped his ass, softly, not disrupting the laughter. Richard did calm down after a few seconds, as did Christoph, and then the guitarist tilted his face up, shyly, his eyes glinting in the light, questioning Christoph’s motives. Ollie watched a smile break across the drummer’s face as he delivered not one but, two, three, steady, hard slaps to Richard’s ass. By the third, Richard’s attitude has certainly changed, and in Christoph’s pause, he inhaled and exhaled sharply, his lips hanging slightly open in a dumb expression of pain.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” Christoph asked, and Richard blinked, slowly, then answered.

“More,” he said softly, “Please.”

Christoph smirked at him, and Ollie could tell he had a string of harsh words on his tongue, but he didn't give Richard the pleasure. Instead, he hit him again, this time drawing a blatant moan out from the smaller man. Richard pushed his thighs apart, grinding himself into Christoph’s thigh, and Ollie swore he could see him growing hard again. Christoph hit him one last time and Richard whined out a command, “Stop.”

“Why?” Christoph asked, his hand calmly positioned above Richard’s reddened ass, ready to hit again if the answer wasn't satisfactory.

“Because I might fucking cum?” Richard said incredulously.

Ollie bit back a snort of laughter at this, and Christoph smiled again, “If you weren't such a whore, things would last longer.”

“Wouldn't be as fun though, would it?” Richard asked, casting a glance at Ollie, and then smiling at Christoph, innocent as a cherub.

“You're the worst,” Christoph groaned, hauling Richard off his lap, “And someday I'll get you back for it properly.”

“Can't wait,” Richard murmured, hoisting himself up on all fours, and spreading his legs.

Both Ollie and Christoph pointedly looked at Richard’s newly hardened cock, his recent mess now drying across his stomach.

“I suppose you don't need much lube,” Christoph joked, shooting Ollie a glance, which the bassist uncomfortably returned.

Christoph unzipped his pants and then pulled his boxers down to his knees, letting out a satisfied sigh as his cock made contact with the air. He put his big hands on Richard’s ass, squeezing at the abused flesh and drawing a high moan out of Richard's mouth.

“Fucking whore,” Christoph said, the glee in his voice audible.

Richard made a soft noise, looking up at Christoph, and then at Ollie, as if desiring their approval. What approval he could possibly be trying to receive in his compromised position, neither man knew, but the glances were cute, all the same. Christoph positioned himself between Richard’s legs, closer in, and spit on his hand, perhaps for safety, then rubbed it messily against his cock. Richard was still stretched out from his earlier fucking like the drummer had joked before, and it didn't take much grunting or difficulty for Christoph to shove his way inside of Richard. Richard whined at the first contact, pushing back easily, and with none of Ollie’s comparative difficulty, Christoph was in.

“Fuck,” Christoph hissed, his hands against Richard’s thighs, pulling him close roughly as her thrusted into him.

Christoph's thighs were tensing, and he could feel sweat dripping down his forehead, the room full of body heat, and his stomach full of arousal. He let out a deep sigh, which Richard reciprocated. The harder he thrusted, the more Richard’s body shook against him. It was as if he could feel the arousal coursing through the smaller man; Richard was pathetic at covering up his feelings, and his moaning and shaking weren't helping matters.

“I want you to ride me,” Christoph said, pulling out of Richard, his tensed thighs pained as he flopped onto his back.

“Watch,” Richard said to Ollie, his eyes traveling from the eager bassist to the place on the bed where Ollie could see him from the front.

“Alright,” Ollie said, clambering over to sit by Christoph’s shoulders.

Christoph looked up at him with a tight lipped smile, then looked back up at Richard, who was now lowering himself onto Christoph, gazing coyly down at him. He pushed himself up and down hesitantly once on the other man’s cock, which resulted in Christoph harshly grabbing Richard’s hips, his fingers sinking into the flesh, as he pulled the guitarist down on his cock, and then pushed him up again.

“Oh, fuck,” Richard huffed, flopping towards Christoph, as his messy yellow dreads flopped in front of his eyes, his shapely chest glistening with sweat.

“Fuck,” Christoph hissed out non-eloquently in response, and Ollie watched him snap his hips up into Richard, faster and faster, until his thrusts became uncharacteristically messy and off-beat from each other.

“Gonna,” Richard whined out, slumping forward, supporting his weight on his hands, “Gonna cum…”

“Fuck, do it, do it,” Christoph sighed, and Richard flipped his dreadlocks back beautifully, sitting back up belaboredly for what would be the finale to his performance.

Richard cried out, stilling, and drilling Christoph’s cock into his body as he sunk down into his lap, spurts of ejaculate thrown across his stomach for the second time. Christoph groaned out in a sort of satisfaction, feeling Richard’s insides clench onto his throbbing cock, shooting his release inside of the other man. Ungracefully, Richard fell against Christoph, causing a pained sound from the crushed party.

“Help me,” Christoph said feebly after tolerating Richard’s body weight for several seconds.

Ollie tried to repress laughter as he hooked his hands under Richard’s arms, pulling his spent body off of Christoph. Richard glanced up at him with a tired smile and Christoph groaned in relief.

“That was good,” Richard said softly, and Christoph snorted, to which Richard indignantly added, “It was!”

“You're so difficult to please,” Christoph murmured, tiredly, “Get fucked by two whole people and it's only ‘good’.”

“I'm sure he didn't mean it like that--” Ollie began defensively, but Richard cut him off.

“I did, Ollie,” he stated, and Christoph groaned.

“I suppose you want us both to cuddle you, too, Reesh?” Christoph said, his voice laced with irony.

“I mean, I do,” Richard said, and Christoph groaned.

“It's not that bad,” Ollie said softly, pulling Richard against him, wrapping his arm around his back, “It's not all that different than when the heating used to go out in the East.”

“We had to hold each other close out of necessity,” Christoph pointed out, begrudgingly curling up to Richard’s other side, putting a big hand on his stomach, his arm wrapped around his waist.

“This is also necessity if you ask me,” Richard said, and this time, both of the others groaned.

“You're two seconds away from being decked,” Christoph warned, but Richard ignored him, and purred instead, pressing his face, sharp cheekbones and all, into Ollie’s shoulder.

“It's not that bad,” Ollie said, and Christoph sighed, conceding, “Okay, it's really not.”

“Do I win?” Richard asked, peeking his head up from Ollie’s shoulder.

“No!” Christoph responded indignantly, “Never!”

Richard opened his mouth to retort, but then decided to shut up before he really did get decked. He much preferred to be held, though he wouldn't have told anyone that, you know.