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indulge like rats

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Chris and Tim have a thing going on. 

Ricky knows. Actually everyone in this tour probably knows, even though they aren’t vocal about it. 

They just mind their business. They do their thing, saying nothing, dismissing questions, yet they do nothing to hide it. 

Ricky saw the way Chris’s fingers brush against Tim’s when he hands him the coffee he bought for him. Chris thanks him with a sweet smile, looking him in the eyes for a second too many. 

It’s subtle. But it can also be blatant, like those times Jon and Nero go for a walk in the city and Tim joins the guys in the band. All of a sudden, he and Chris disappear together, and they’re nowhere to be found until it’s VIP time for Motionless. Chris looks hurried, dazed, not entirely there for the first two VIPs or so. 

Ricky notices. 

Ryan teased Chris about it once, it was in Germany, maybe, and Chris just laughed it off, told him to go fuck himself. Then he changed the subject. Ricky listened from a distance, the blood boiling in his cheeks a little. 

He doesn’t know why he’s been weird about it. Doesn’t know what feels wrong with it, but something clearly does. He doesn’t want to be a dick to his friends, so he keeps it inside. 

 

He keeps it inside until they’re in Italy. Tim is sprawled on the couch in the bus, phone in hand, then Chris arrives. Chris finds his seat beside Tim, head on his shoulder, and Tim turns his face just slightly to place his lips on Chris’s hairline. 

Ricky tries not to look. He really does, but his eyes are just attracted to the scene across from him, mixed feelings manifesting their symptoms throughout his whole body. He wants to go, kind of overwhelmed. Yet he’s like, bound to the chair. 

He wants to go, but he can’t help watching the way Tim’s arm crawls around Chris’s shoulder, the way Chris closes his eyes sighing blissfully with his hand on Tim’s thigh. 

He wants to go. He feels in the way. 

But he doesn’t. He speaks instead. 

“What are you guys up to?” he says, suddenly breaking the silence. Chris’s eyes flutter open. Ricky’s heartbeat increases. 

“Nothing,” Chris says, brow furrowed, head still reclined on Tim’s body. 

“Why do you ask?” Tim says promptly. His tone doesn’t sound as soft as Chris’s. His posture isn’t as relaxed. Ricky fears he might have crossed a line. Violated a silent rule. 

“Nothing I just -” he says, voice trembling a bit. 

“Jealous?” Tim inquiries. Ricky doesn’t really know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just looks at Tim in the eye and thinks that yes, maybe - maybe it is jealousy. 

He sighs. 

“I don’t know,” he manages, voice low, eyes averted. Tim stands up, walks over to him. When he’s close enough, Ricky lifts his gaze and his knees go weak for a second the moment Tim puts his fingers under his chin. 

“Chris and I talked about it,” he says quietly. “We don’t mind sharing. You don’t have to feel left out.” 

Ricky shudders. 

“What?” 

“Both me and Chris think you’re hot. If you want to fuck either of us, go ahead. No need to feel weirded out for the fact that we’re… close,” Tim says. 

Ricky is at a loss of words, and tries to glance at Chris for reassurance, because he has no clue what is going on. Turns out that Chris is also watching him, upright posture, as if waiting. As if expectant. As if hoping the situation will evolve into what he wants it to. This isn’t what Ricky was expecting to find. 

“Who do you want?” Chris says suddenly, and even though Ricky was looking in his direction, he’s taken aback. He swallows hard. 

“Honestly…” he starts to say, trying hard to find the words. He can feel himself blush furiously. “Honestly. I want you both.” Ricky doesn’t know where to look, he’s completely disoriented. Tim chuckles, and Ricky thinks he must look like a complete idiot. 

“Don’t be shy,” Tim says, and touches his face again. Gently. Ricky has to stop himself from leaning into his hand. 

“At the same time?” Chris asks. Ricky turns to look at him, and he’s watching him with the same anticipation as before. “Like… together?” 

Ricky hadn’t thought about it. 

Ricky didn’t even have it figured out five seconds ago, for fuck’s sake. 

“I mean -” 

“We could arrange that,” Tim offers. “If you’re into that.” 

Ricky looks at him then at Chris then at Tim again. What the fuck. 

“Okay,” he says eventually, voice weak, yet assertive. A huge smile forms on Tim’s face, and it sends a shiver down Ricky’s spine. Then Tim turns to Chris. 

“He’s in.” 

*** 

They play the show. Ricky almost forgets about it all during their set, losing himself in the music and watching the crowd sing along. 

Things take an unexpected turn when The Final Dictvm starts. It’s new in the set. They played it the night before in Austria, but that’s it. It’s new. It felt weird to Ricky the very first time, because look at them touching one another like that, isn’t it a little too much , but now it’s - now it’s almost overwhelming. The way they’re doing it in front of the whole world. No one knows, of course, no one can even begin to imagine what’s really going on, but Ricky does, Ricky does and he has to look down at his guitar. Because it’s too much. Because it makes him want them even more. 

He’s relieved when Tim leaves the stage. 

*** 

Then Tim finds him again when the show is over. Ricky almost hoped he wouldn’t, but there he is, fresh out of the shower, no make up on. He invites him to go out of the venue and to the bus together. Ricky shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. 

There are fans still waiting outside. Not many, about fifty people. Tim is talking to him, but Ricky has trouble understanding what he’s saying. He giggles nervously at something Tim said, a joke, maybe, he doesn’t know. 

A fan shouts Ricky’s name repeatedly, and he looks at the crowd, smiles, waves goodbye. The bus door closes behind him and Tim. 

“When?” Ricky says out of nowhere, interrupting Tim’s speech. Tim halts, smiles big. 

“Very soon.” 

*** 

They stop at a hotel in Switzerland. From Milan to Aarau it’s just a little more than a couple hours, hours that Ricky tries to use to catch up on sleep, and they spend the rest of the night at the hotel. Ricky doesn’t ask any more questions, he gets the keys to his room, glances at Chris and Tim briefly, but they give him no signal. He takes the elevator and goes to his room. 

It’s half an hour later when he hears a knock on his door. He was still awake. 

He clears his voice. 

“Come on in.” 

His heart skips a beat when the handle turns. 

 

“So here we are,” Tim says after he’s locked the door behind him. Chris is right before him, looking at him with bewildered eyes. Ricky notices he looks like he’s eating out of his hand, and for some reason it makes Ricky’s dick twitch. 

Oh shit. 

“Any questions? If not, we can start,” Tim adds, locking eyes with Ricky. Ricky swallows hard and is kind of too shocked for his brain to formulate logic thoughts. He simply nods. 

Tim wastes no time and in a minute his face is smashed against Chris’s, and Chris kisses him back eagerly. Ricky’s eyes widen, because he’s never seen anything like this , because it’s hot, because they’re both so fucking gorgeous. He instinctively brings his hand to his crotch, adjusting himself. Things are happening down there. Fuck. 

“Are you just gonna stand there, Rick?” Tim says, and he’s breathless, and Ricky feels butterflies. He briefly glances at Chris, who’s still eyeing Tim’s mouth mere millimeters from his face. Ricky gulps and looks at Tim again, when he finally moves towards the two of them. 

Ricky kisses Tim and his mouth is hot and inviting. Tim grabs Ricky’s waist and forcefully pulls his body closer, abdomen against abdomen, hard cock against hard cock. Ricky moans in Tim’s mouth, and then one hand is crawling to his groin from behind. It’s Chris’s. Ricky moans again the moment he feels Chris’s fingers wrap around his cock through the fabric, and he shamelessly rocks his hips upward. Chris’s face is in the crook of his neck now, breath hot against the side of his face, of his jaw. 

They haven’t even started and Ricky’s already on the edge. 

“Someone here is a little flushed,” Chris says quietly to his ear, from behind. Ricky sends his head back and closes his eyes, allowing Chris to place his mouth on his neck. His lips part.  

“Let’s move to the bed, shall we?” Tim says, and Ricky barely hears him; he doesn’t want to stop this even for a second, but nods anyway, and he just lets one hand grab his and lead him to the bed. He doesn’t know who it is. What does it matter? 

He sits down on the bed and dumbly watches Chris as he takes his shirt off, revealing inked skin, and fuck, Ricky longs to touch him, longs to kiss him anywhere. He’s soon pulled out of his primal thoughts when Tim comes into view, kneels in front of Chris and unbuttons his pants. Chris looks down on him, puts his hand on Tim’s head and caresses it. Ricky promptly palms at his own boner through his clothes, and he’s in his own underwear without even realizing it, stroking himself slowly. Tim takes Chris out and Ricky groans softly when he sees him, big, hard, and he’s pretty sure a similar noise came from Tim’s mouth as well. But he can’t be sure. 

“You wanna?” Tim asks, addressing him. Ricky nods silently, not even grasping the full sense of the question, just - just going with the flow. 

Chris joins Ricky on the bed and lies down, head on the pillow. Ricky looks at his stretched out naked body, lingering on his cock in particular, feeling his own mouth water a moment before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the head. 

Chris moans. His pretty singer voice comes out low, and somehow it sounds like the perfect note to Ricky’s ears. He wants to hear more of it, so he starts to suck, moving his tongue on the tip, drawing the hottest noises out of Chris. 

“Take him deeper,” Tim says as he gently rests his hand on Ricky’s nape, pushing down just slightly. Ricky doesn’t fight it, he relaxes his throat, taking as much as he can. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now, is that alright?” Tim asks after he decides his help with the fellatio is no longer needed. He does keep his hand on Ricky’s hair for some extra moments though, tenderly massaging his scalp as a tear runs down his cheek. 

Ricky lets go of Chris for less than a second, just the time necessary for him to say “yes”, then goes back to working him with his mouth. He lifts his eyes and looks at Chris through his lashes: Chris’s head is sent back, his eyes closed, his mouth agape. Ricky’s dick twitches in his underwear, and he’s now more determined than ever to make him feel extremely good. 

Which is when Tim pulls his pants and boxers down in one motion. 

Ricky gags a little but keeps it together. It’s hard to focus on his oral task with Tim’s hands caressing his naked cheeks, kneading the flesh, parting them open. When one finger presents itself against his entrance, it’s cold and wet. Ricky hums around Chris’s cock when Tim pushes in, which makes Chris groan lower. 

Ricky is already kind of overwhelmed. Tim is adding a second finger, and he’s saying something, something about how tight he is, maybe, but Ricky isn’t sure, the ringing in his ears loud enough to drown out Tim’s words. 

Then, suddenly, Tim pulls his fingers out and Ricky gasps, releasing Chris’s cock. He looks behind him, and Tim’s aligning his cock to his ass; the breath catches in his throat, because it is so fucking obscene. He hears Chris chuckle above him, and Ricky turns to glance at him, probably looking dumb or high, and Chris’s face is flushed red, eyes dark, lips swollen. He’s a fucking work of art. 

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” Chris says, one angle of his mouth turned upward, and Ricky sighs just before nodding. He nods enthusiastically

“Yes,” he breathes out, and it’s more of a moan than a word. Chris giggles, puts his hand on his cheek, brushes his lips tenderly with his fingers. In that very moment, Tim pushes in. 

Ricky emits a long, loud moan. He hears Tim say “fuck” behind him and his eyes roll back. He’s big inside of him, and it hurts at first, he feels like his body is tearing up in two; but soon the pain subsides, leaving room for an intense, primal pleasure that reaches his grey matter and instantly turns off all of the remaining functional brain cells - that, Ricky thinks, hadn’t been working that well since yesterday morning in Milan anyway. 

Tim is pounding into him, and it’s very hard, brutal at times, even; Ricky has to give up on sucking Chris’s cock because he’s being pushed forward too violently. Chris seems to be forgiving, though, in fact he’s still caressing his face, telling him how pretty he looks all sweaty and used like that, making him blush, making his dick wish for some kind of friction. 

Fuck, does he want to come. 

Tim’s hands are firmly on his hips, holding him in place, and he’s hitting his prostate with every thrust. The guttural groans he produces make Ricky’s head spin, and he lifts his face, meeting Chris’s gaze again, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, hand tenderly touching his lips. Ricky shudders. Tim’s ectic movements stop abruptly, and Ricky’s head falls forward again, facing the sheets underneath him, his long hair framing his view. The thick, hot liquid fills him up and he breathes deeply as Tim makes sure that every drop he has ends up deep inside of his ass. 

“Fuck,” Ricky breathes out weakly. And his aching cock hasn’t even been given the right amount of attention yet. 

Tim pulls out and Ricky keens at the loss. He feels so empty, even with Tim’s cum falling out of his ass and tracing lines down his balls. 

The bed shifts. Tim suddenly comes into view, face flushed and droplets of sweat dripping down his temple, and he looks gorgeous and lewd and at peace. He brings his face close to Chris’s, whispers something in his ear, and Chris briefly closes his eyes, then nods and Tim kisses him. 

Tim looks at Ricky after that, and smiles big, Ricky’s heart racing. 

“Are you ready for another dick?” he asks, and Ricky looks at him with big eyes. 

Chris gets up and and arranges himself behind Ricky. His strong hands crawl on his back and reach his shoulders, pulling him up gently, so that Ricky’s now sat down on his knees, legs spread, back against Chris’s torso and head pressed to his collarbone. He can feel his breath on his forehead. 

Chris’s hands keep travelling up and down his body, reaching his tummy, then down until they find the hem of his shirt. Ricky gets the hint and lets Chris take it off him, leaving him completely naked. Finally, after what feels like years, he wraps his fingers around Ricky’s throbbing, leaking cock, and the moan that comes out of Ricky’s throat is so loud that it’s almost embarrassing to him. It would be, if he wasn’t too caught up in feeling the sensation of Chris’s hand around him, stroking him slowly; he starts rolling his hips, desperate for friction, the moment he sees Tim hand Chris the bottle of lube. 

He swallows hard. 

He stays immobile while Chris smears the lube on his cock, he doesn’t turn to look at him, just waits. He waits until Chris’s hands grab his sides and nudge him to lift his hips, which Ricky does, ready to fall impaled on Chris’s cock once he’s ready. 

Chris pushes him down forcefully, all at once, and Ricky’s moan is embarrassingly loud again. Nobody seems to care, though, and he swears he can hear Chris purr behind him, so maybe his loud moans are welcome. 

Ricky doesn’t know when or how but Tim is now lying on his stomach right in front of him, propping up on his elbows, lustful blue eyes fixated on his. Ricky gulps, because those eyes are - those eyes are utterly indescribable. Butterflies start agitating in the pit of his stomach the moment he realizes what Tim is about to do, his mouth getting closer and closer to the tip of his cock, and Ricky has to send his head back against Chris’s body when he captures it between his lips. He moans long and low, his mind completely blank except for the words fuck , cock and mouth

“Keep moaning for us,” Chris says quietly to his ear, from behind, and he doesn’t have to ask twice, because as soon as Chris starts pounding into him, indirectly pushing Ricky’s dick deeper into Tim’s mouth, he’s a complete writhing, groaning mess. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this loud in his life, but then again he’d never been manhandled like this by two of the sexiest men ever existed, so. So, it kind of makes sense, and Ricky forgives himself mentally. 

“Can’t believe how tight you are even after Tim fucked the shit outta you,” Chris breathes out, and Ricky’s looking down at Tim, whose heavy lidded eyes don’t seem willing to disconnect from his, and watches as his cheeks hollow out while he sucks on him, making his cheekbones seem even sharper. Fuck, how can one man be so fucking hot? 

Chris’s hands hold Ricky’s hips tightly as he thrusts into him, keeping him from losing balance as he pushes him upward. It feels so fucking good, Chris’s big, hard cock being buried deep inside of him, sweaty skin rubbing against his, tall body engulfing him. Chris’s thrusts become faster and faster, less controlled, frantic. 

“Come inside him, Chris. He wants it, he wants it so bad,” Tim encourages him, and it’s as if Chris was holding his breath before, because suddenly he exhales, air landing on the side of Ricky’s face. His movements come to a halt, and he digs his digits into Ricky’s flesh when he comes, spilling inside him with a growl. 

Ricky’s breathing heavily, everything is too much, he’s on the edge, and it takes as little as Tim bringing his mouth to his aching cock again, taking him halfway down and sucking hard, to make him come as well with a desperate groan. Tim doesn’t pull away, he lets him spill into his mouth and swallows everything he can down. Ricky can’t look away, his glistening pink lips stained with cum are probably the hottest sight Ricky’s ever beheld, and Ricky’s seen a lot of pretty hot shit. Most of it during the past couple of hours. 

His head spins. He falls down against Chris’s chest, whose arms catch him readily and wrap tightly around him. 

“You are so fucking small ,” Chris comments, and Ricky lets out his upteenth groan, because really, he still hasn’t regained his ability to speak. 

“We can adopt him if he wants,” Tim says, and Ricky avoids looking at his lips at all costs. He doesn’t have the emotional stability for it right now. 

“You can join us anytime,” Chris says, and Ricky turns his head to look at him. He’s smiling. Ricky’s heart melts. 

“He’s in,” Tim says, and Chris lies down on his back, bringing Ricky down on his chest with him.