Gabe and Pete, it's not like a serious thing. Usually it's something they do when they're too wasted to find anyone else. It's not a big deal, Gabe's hot and he's got a nice dick that Pete likes to suck. He even fucks it sometimes, rides it fast, sliding his fingers into Gabe's mouth as he comes.
“You wanna do what?” They're in Pete's bed, legs tangled up under dirty sheets. Pete's wiping come off his stomach with the corner of his bedding as he listens intently to what Gabe wants to do next.
“Come on, imagine it. You and me, something tight and hot between us.” Gabe's running a hand over his nipple, frowning down at the bitemarks Pete's left.
“That sounds, like, super duper sexist,” Pete says back. He's got better over the years, at figuring out a filter for all the idiotic thoughts he thinks, but Gabe's a little delayed in that.
“It don't have to be a girl. I think a guy could be kinda hot. You and me fucking the same ass at once, kissing each other over his shoulder, feeling the same stretch; feeling the slide of our dicks against each other.” Gabe's hand falls to Pete's thigh, squeezing lightly. Pete's cock gives the tiniest of twitches at the thought.
“You got anyone in mind?” Pete asked, thinking through all of the people Gabe knows. He's got a better book of twinks that would be up for shit like that. Pete can only think of one himself, and that's, no.
“I have,” Gabe smirks dirtily, like he knows who he wants. “You gotta ask though.” Pete winces when he figures Gabe's talking about the same person he’s thinking of. In theory Patrick would be up for it, but he's just so goddamn mouthy. Pete's heard stories, man. No one comes out of it the same way.
Pete watches Patrick the next time they go out together. Patrick's already halfway to drunk, eyes scanning the room for someone to entertain himself with. People have him all wrong in Pete's opinion. Patrick's a downright whore when he wants to be and it's not long before some dude comes over, offering to buy them both a drink.
“They come onto you so easy,” Pete notes, watching Patrick take a sip of his fresh drink. He stares at Pete over the rim of his glass, blinking softly for a few moments.
“It's the baby face,” Patrick says eventually, placing the glass down on the bar. “They think I'm either a virgin or easy.”
“You are pretty easy.” Pete's been there once, years ago, when Patrick was barely nineteen. They'd got their wires crossed at the time; Pete wanted just the one night with him, Patrick was expecting a relationship. Patrick didn't talk to Pete for nearly three weeks after Pete explained to him, but then they just started talking again and they've pretended it didn't happen ever since.
“Yeah, well, whatever.” Patrick bats a hand, fingers tucking beneath his chin. Pete watches him for a time, his innocent little face; soft mouth and body. He's not anything like that when he's in bed. Everyone that's fucked him knows it.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” Patrick asks, turning his head when Pete continually watches his profile.
“I'm not.” Pete looks away, down at his own drink. It doesn't take long before the man comes back in all his lumberjack glory, leaning forward into Patrick's space, dirty nails tracing Patrick's knee. He's alright looking, Pete guesses, but Patrick can do better.
The man's leaning forward, touching a hand beneath Patrick's chin, the spare one resting on Pete’s forearm. “So do you guys come as a pair?”
The hotel room is cheap, the sheets starchy and rough beneath Pete's shoulders. He's having a hard time thinking of that when he has Patrick between his legs. Patrick's good, he's better now than he was as nineteen. Patrick moans against Pete's cock, pale lashes flickering shut as his pink lips fold down over Pete's dick. Pete rocks a hand down, fingers catching in Patrick's sweaty hair, tugging hard when Patrick's mouth swallows him down. Pete guides him in a bob, wanting to see how far Patrick can take it; if he's going to play it cool or dirty.
“Do you mind?” Patrick says, pulling away. He twists his head to the man standing behind him, hand openly playing with Patrick's ass. “You don't stick your fingers in my ass until I say you can.”
The man smirks, pulling his hand out, fingers shining with lube. “Your boyfriend’s a little power bottom. It's always the cute ones, huh?” Pete shifts, takes Patrick's hand and curves it over his cock instead of responding to Mr Lumberjack. Patrick strokes deliberately slow fingers down his dick, like he's thinking about what he wants to do next.
“Quit it with the slow one finger, two finger shit. Give me three straight and then I'll think about letting you fuck me.” Patrick's voice is low, a sneer to the man over his shoulder before he turns back to Pete with a sweet look. “Come on, let me play with you some more.”
“You don't find this a bit weird?” Pete whispers as Patrick pushes at Pete's shoulders until he falls flat to the bed. There's something desperate in Patrick's movements, in the way his body slides over Pete's. Pete holds him for a moment, flat on his back as Patrick sucks at his neck before wriggling down.
“We've done it before,” Patrick says, face flickering again when the the man at his back pulls his hips again. “This dude thinks we're together anyway.” Pete falls back to the bed, rolling his hips to get Patrick down the bed. Patrick mouths at Pete's hips, hands either side of Pete's body. Pete can see the roll of his shoulders like this, the thinning of his hair. Pete brushes his hair lightly as Patrick teases his mouth against Pete's thigh. Pete watches further back, sees the the man drizzling lube onto his fingers, eyes staring flatly at Patrick's ass in the air.
Patrick drizzles spit onto the head of Pete's cock before smirking and diving back down. Pete jerks up, hand to the back of Patrick's neck, stroking his thumb back and forth. Patrick mouths down the shaft, laughing suddenly at the feel of a bearded chin brushing against the small of his back.
“Trying to redeem yourself huh,” Patrick gasps. Pete watches as the man spreads Patrick's ass, burying his face between his cheeks. Pete watches Patrick's face fall open, his head dropping to Pete's thigh. Pete grasps his cock in one hand, his other sliding to Patrick's hair again. “You're not entirely fucking useless.”
“You're such a little bitch,” Pete says, grabbing Patrick's hand and wrapping it around his cock. As hot as it is to see Patrick get his ass eaten, he wants the attention back on himself. “Suck my dick, asshole.”
Patrick's eyes flicker open, the sounds of his ass being sucked loud in the room. He nods his head. Patrick sucks at Pete's dick when the man pulls away from his ass. Pete keeps himself from shooting off by watching the man behind Patrick slick a condom over his dick. He isn't small, Pete can see from his position and he watches as Patrick pulls off again as the man lines up, spanking Patrick's ass a few times.
“Someone's feeling macho.” Patrick rolls his eyes, not able to help the gasp he gives when he's penetrated. Pete listens to Patrick's breathless moans as he's given no time to get use to it. Patrick sits up on his knees, thumbing his cock, rubbing his balls in his hands as he's fucked. He keeps eye contact with Pete, until Pete gets creeped out and looks away.
“You like that, daddy? Like fucking me like this?” Patrick says, loud in the room. Pete's eyes bulge, watches Patrick slide a finger down past his balls to press inside next to the man's cock. The man bites down on Patrick's shoulder, beard already leaving a red rash over Patrick's skin.
“You let your boyfriend call other men daddy?” the man asks, eyes on Pete sprawled naked on the bed. Patrick's quiet for now, fingering himself as the man fucks him. He looks like a toy against the muscle and breadth of the man behind him, Pete doesn't know if he likes it or not.
“Patrick, suck my fucking dick, man,” Pete grunts out instead, ignoring the idea that the man thinks he and Patrick are an item. The man pushes Patrick down onto his hands and knees, and Patrick steadies himself, crawling over to where Pete's sprawled again. The man still fucks quietly behind Patrick, opening him up around his cock. Pete feels bad because even though he's the one in Patrick's tight ass, he's not getting much attention.
Pete jerks his cock a few times until Patrick's settled enough to take it into his mouth again. Patrick sucks rougher this time, leaning on his elbow to give himself some leverage. Patrick sucks loosely, sucking down on his fingers holding Pete's cock. It doesn't seem to bother him that there's a man fucking his ass with how he's looking at Pete. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
Patrick peels his wet hand from Pete's cock, thumb pressing against his balls as he plays a little more. Pete's more verse than Patrick, bottoms for Gabe and a few other people, but gets more out of topping. There's still nothing quite like riding a couple of fingers when he's getting his dick sucked and he hisses in delight at the feel of Patrick's fingers sliding in, how his lips are sealed over the head of Pete's cock in a hard suck.
Pete rocks back and forward, onto Patrick's fingers and into his mouth when Patrick loosens the seal. Eventually, when Pete feels the low thrumming in his stomach he pulls Patrick's fingers from his ass and sits up, sliding his cock from the warm depth of Patrick's mouth.
“Let us spitroast you,” Pete says quietly. Patrick's eyes narrow when the man behind him makes an appreciative noise, spanking Patrick again, but then Pete's stroking fingers through Patrick's hair and he's nodding his head.
Pete lets Patrick gather himself onto his hands and knees. The lumberjack behind Patrick holding his hips steady until Pete's pressing between Patrick's pouty lips, penetrating his mouth with a hand in his hair to stop him bucking backwards. Pete starts the rhythm, keeping an eye on the man behind Patrick. He slides out when Lumberjack pushes in, until Patrick's more or less going with the movement; back and forward, sliding wetly onto Pete's cock and off onto the man's dick in his ass. Pete comes in no time, balls drawing tight as he shoots thick globs of come into Patrick's mouth. Patrick doesn't swallow, spits it onto the sheets below in annoyance when Pete drops his fist from his hair. It's hot and it's degrading and Patrick's clearly fighting it, even with his own dick bouncing heavy against his stomach.
“Kiss me,” Patrick gasps, falling onto his elbows, just out of touch from where he's spat jizz. Pete does as he's told, hearing the man grunt and growl from behind Patrick. His thrusts are getting more aggressive now and it won't be long before he's coming. Pete kisses Patrick like he asks, tasting himself, and wiggling his hand beneath Patrick to grab at his cock. Pete feels the thick slide of it between his fingers, can feel how close Patrick is, and he jacks it roughly, tongue sliding sloppily into Patrick's mouth as he starts to come.
Patrick makes sweet little noises in the back of his throat when he comes and Pete catches them between his own lips. Patrick's hand shakes on Pete's cheek, sweating everywhere, and groaning from oversensitivity until the lumberjack gives one final roar and pulls Patrick right down onto his dick. Pete looks at him casually; red face, vein popping by his temple. Patrick just looks dissatisfied, wriggling away when the man’s finished coming.
Pete strokes Patrick's hair as the lumberjack strips the condom and heads into the bathroom to clean up. Patrick rolls onto his back, laughing lightly as he hears the water run.
“You know, I was thinking maybe I was being too much of a dick, but then he started spanking me,” Patrick says, pushing his hair out of his face. “You fucking ask to do that beforehand.”
“You didn't stop him,” Pete says. He would've stopped him, but he knows Patrick's into that shit. They have mutual friends, Pete knows the gossip.
“You were keeping me preoccupied.” Patrick rolls onto his belly again, fingers tracing lightly against the tight skin of Pete's bicep. “It was nice having you here. We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, about that.” Pete can't believe his luck, that he's got an in like this. He opens his mouth to speak when Lumberjack comes out of the bathroom. His dick is big, even when flaccid, and Pete's impressed Patrick took it so easily.
“The room’s paid for so you guys can have it,” Lumberjack says, pulling his jeans on, drawing his thick leather belt closed. Pete watches Patrick watch the belt and puts a hand over his lips just in case he mouths off again. He's usually more sedate after an orgasm, but he's also pissed at the dude. “He's tight, but I'd invest in a gag if I were you.”
“Yeah,” Pete says, guessing Patrick's heard that line before. “Power bottoms, you know.” The man laughs, winking and pulling his flannel shirt over his shoulders, feet sliding into boots before he's leaving. Patrick bats Pete's hand away from his face, but crawls close to him when the door shuts.
“Big dicks always come with the worst personalities,” Patrick says, stroking his fingers across Pete's ribs. Pete's forgotten how cuddly Patrick is, but he's soft in all the right places. Pete draws an arm over his friend, cheek resting against Patrick's damp hair. “What were you saying before?”
“Uh. Oh yeah, so you know Gabe and I play around sometimes? Well, we kinda wanna d-p someone,” Pete's speaks it quiet into the room, it sounds silly aloud, even to Patrick, who has been everywhere and done everything. “I'm verse, but not enough to bottom for that. Gabe figured you'd be up for it.”
“Did he?” Patrick asks quietly. His voice has changed slightly, too fucked out to be haughty, but it's not soft either.
“Yeah, plus we've both fucked you so we know how it goes with you. I don't know if you've ever done it before, but would you do it?” Pete asks. Patrick doesn't speak for a time, fingers still so soft against Pete's skin.
“You know I'd do anything for you,” Patrick answers softly. “You're my best friend. I think I can manage it.”
“Sweet!” Pete just about stops himself from fist pumping, only because his arms are all tangled up with his warm best friend. “Can you believe that fucker thought we were together though? Like I could deal with you in the bedroom 24/7?”
“Right,” Patrick laughs quietly, wriggling from Pete's grip. Pete feels loose and cold as Patrick leaves his arms. “I'm gonna take a shower.”
“So Patrick's in,” Pete says down the phone to Gabe the next morning. Patrick's insisted Pete pay for breakfast after the spitroast the night before and so they're wedged into the booth of a greasy diner. Pete watches Patrick demolish his pancake stack quickly. For a tiny dude he eats a shit-ton. “It took a threesome with some dude, but at least we know he's up for it.”
Patrick glares at Pete over his mug of coffee, but he seems placated when Pete hangs up on Gabe's whooping laughter. “You're gonna owe me so hard,” Patrick says, quietly, darkly. He's not in a bad mood, but he's been a little bit grumpy all morning.
“Can you, like, not be a little bitch the entire time we're screwing you?” Pete asks, pushing his half finished plate to Patrick. His friend rolls his shoulder dismissively, taking a bite of Pete’s pancake before answering.
“Everyone knows what I'm like in bed, I'm not gonna change just because you want some peace and quiet. Being 'a little bitch' makes me unbelievably happy, Peter. I'm gunning for a good time if you're gonna be stretching me that fucking wide.” Pete can't really argue with that point so he grunts instead, throwing his coffee back to end the conversation.
They all agree on a time and place a few weeks later. Pete's house, because it's got the biggest bed and Patrick's slept in it enough times to feel comfortable. Gabe's still living out of hotel rooms and Patrick doesn't want them at his place.
Gabe gets there the night before and he and Pete go over positions and how it's going to work. Gabe's pretty much letting Pete do all the work, but it's the only way it'll really be a success. Gabe lets Pete fuck him and then they order chinese take-out; it's fun, a good Saturday.
Patrick turns up late the next afternoon with a bag over his shoulder. Pete eyes the bag, but Patrick just rolls his eyes, kicking his shoes off in Pete's kitchen. “If you're expecting me to take you both at once, then you're gonna have to look after me afterward. I'm not driving home.” Patrick touches his hand to Pete's shoulder lightly. “I have some rules I want followed. Hear me out.”
Pete nods his head in wait. He knows that Patrick plays kinky; is submissive, but only on his own terms. He doesn't like being told what to do, Pete knows from friends that have had him, from things he's witnessed himself. One time Patrick showed up at Pete's house in uncharacteristic tears, rings of bruises around his throat when the guy he was playing with ignored his limits. Patrick knows what he's doing these days, Pete figures, but that night still plays in his mind during bouts of insomnia. Patrick's so stable and good with everything apart from his sex life. It all goes to shit there.
“What rules?” Pete says when Patrick does nothing but stare at his feet. He's small, making himself smaller with how he's got his arms wrapped over his stomach. It's a defensive move and it isn't like Patrick. Pete sighs heavily, waiting on Patrick's rules.
“I want to face you. Don't make me feel like a fucking fleshlight, don't make me feel like I'm nobody special.” Patrick's blue eyes stare flatly to the wall over Pete's shoulder, fingers curled over his bag still.
“Like what happened with Lumberjack dude?” Pete snorts but Patrick's got that puppy dog expression on that Pete can never get away from. Pete pulls him close, feeling his best friend fall against him. “You're my best friend, asshole. You're always going to be special. You’re the most special person in the world to me.”
Patrick shakes his head. “That's not what I mean.”
“We want you, Patrick. We asked you because we know you'll make it fun for us. I love you more than anyone, doofus,” Pete says. He grabs Patrick's shoulders, shaking them lightly. Patrick kisses Pete softly on the mouth, dropping away with a small smile.
“Where's Gabe?” he asks, pulling away. He looks down at his feet, not at Pete, but that's alright. Pete doesn't mind Patrick being the weird-acting one for once.
“Upstairs,” Pete says, watching Patrick leave the room, touching his mouth lightly to the sound of footsteps on his staircase.
They're making out by the time Pete heads into his bedroom and Gabe's stripped down to his boxers. Patrick looks tiny balanced in Gabe's lap, round ass pressing down against Saporta's obvious erection. Pete watches Patrick grind down, sees Gabe's large hand sprawling against the small of Patrick's back. The height difference is a sweet thing to watch. It's there with Gabe and Pete, but it's different; he doesn't know how, but it is.
Pete strips himself of his clothing, pinching his cock at the base as he listens to the wet sound of them kissing; the little noises Patrick makes and the way Gabe still sounds like he's laughing even when he's making out. Pete climbs onto the bed, straddling Gabe's legs as he presses up behind Patrick, one hand circling him around the chest, the other grinding down against Patrick.
“How much have you taken before?” Pete asks, nudging his nose beneath Patrick's ear. Patrick softens in Pete's arms, his head twisting so that he can kiss Pete. He's way more into kissing than Pete figured, but if it's something that will placate him later on, Pete's going to use it to his advantage.
“I'm pretty experienced,” Patrick finally murmurs, soft lips and wet tongue against Pete's mouth. Pete wants to bend him over right now and fuck the goddamn shit out of him, but he holds back, watching Gabe pull at Patrick's zipper, long fingers sliding into Patrick's underwear to cup him. “I've never taken two at once, but toys and a cock. A small fist, stuff like that.”
“Fuck, that's hot. Pete's got small hands, you should let him put one inside you,” Gabe says, pulling at Patrick's pants until his cock pokes up, dark already, firm under Gabe's hand.
“Didn't say I liked it,” Patrick bites back, still leaning on Pete, still mouthing wetly at his jaw. “I like fingers and a dick, I like being eaten out. I expect both of those things to happen today.”
“I thought you were a sub,” Pete laughs, but Patrick suddenly sits up in his arms, scowling and ready to fight back.
“Nah, little dude's a bratty sub,” Gabe pipes up, cutting across whatever Patrick's about to say. “C'mon, we don't care, Patrick. We just wanna fuck you as much as you want to get fucked. We're using each other mutually.”
Patrick nods again, this time kissing Gabe, falling down on top of him, still fully clothed. Pete slides down, one hand wrapped around Gabe's knee, the other pushing up Patrick's cotton shirt to mouth at his spine. Patrick arches his back and Pete laughs at the way it pushes Patrick's ass out even more.
Pete lifts Patrick up slightly, so that he's straddling Gabe's stomach instead, giving him access to Gabe's boxers. He listens to them kissing, the slurping and sucking, as he yanks Gabe's underwear off. He tosses them over his shoulder, before pressing his lips to Gabe's cockhead. He's solid when Pete wraps fingers around him. He knows the weight and girth as well as his own. It's comforting to suck a dick he enjoys on a regular basis. He couldn't be like Patrick; always sniffing out another cock to stuff down his throat.
Pete sucks for a time, holding it upwards, trying to preserve his energy. Gabe's going in first, Patrick sitting on him before Pete slides in when Patrick's stretched enough. Pete looks up from sucking Gabe's dick, but all he can see is Patrick's ass hovering in the air, round thighs packed tight to his jeans. Jesus, he's gorgeous. Pete gives a few sloppy licks to Gabe's cock, but lifts a hand to palm Patrick's ass. Patrick wiggles back, moving into Pete's hand. The way he's rocking alluding to the handjob Gabe's giving him right now.
Pete rolls his tongue lazily over the head of Gabe's cock before lifting off for now. Instead, he inches Patrick's hips up, so he's balanced on his hands and knees over Gabe's body. Pete slides a hand between Patrick's legs, cupping his balls as Gabe continues to jerk him off. Patrick moans again, as Pete rolls his palm back and forward over Patrick's balls, Gabe's hand twisting up the length of his dick. Patrick's a writhing, clothed mess between them.
“Do you wanna come before we fuck you?” Gabe asks, but Patrick shakes his head, dropping down to rest against Gabe's shoulder as he tries to gain composure.
“I'm only coming once and that's when you're both fucking me,” Patrick says. Pete nods from behind, all he can do right now is either nod or laugh or he knows he's going to ruin everything. Instead he pulls his hand away from Patrick's balls, and touches Patrick's ass again. He thinks about how badly he wants to get Patrick out of his jeans; wants more on display than his dick and balls hanging out of his underwear. Pete lifts his hand and spanks Patrick once. Patrick cries out loudly, hissing as he falls down onto Gabe.
“Fuck you, Pete! I'm wearing a goddamn plug, don't fucking spank like that,” Patrick spits over his shoulder. “Didn't trust you to prep me properly so figured I'd do it myself.”
“I thought you were gonna not be a bitch today,” Pete says, lifting Patrick's hips back up again so that he can tuck his hands over his waist to yank his pants and underwear down. Patrick kicks them both off, and then presses his ass back towards Pete.
“M'not, just telling you to be careful,” Patrick says again. Pete strokes his fingers down Patrick's back, eyes up briefly on Gabe and Patrick kissing again. There's bruises on Patrick's ass, not from the one clap of Pete's hand against his cheek, but sore red skin, purple in some spots. Patrick must've played with someone else recently, got himself bent over and spanked for his big mouth no doubt.
Pete holds Patrick's fleshy ass in his hands for a moment before he uses his thumbs to spread his cheeks. There's a heavy, glass plug sitting snugly in Patrick's ass, the flared base shaped like a pink flower. Pete laughs, and Patrick gets it when he wiggles his hips again.
Pete runs his hand down Patrick's cleft, up from his balls and then to the curve of the plug. Pete presses his finger down until it slides beneath the pretty head of the plug, dipping against Patrick's rim. He's hot and slick with lube. Pete imagines Patrick earlier in the day, smearing his pretty pink plug in slick before sliding it into his body. Fucking himself with it, laughing with his legs spread wide, hips tilted up against the pillows.
“Wanna spread you open and lick you out,” Pete mutters, pressing light kisses against Patrick's red ass cheek. Patrick's moaning into Gabe's mouth, pushing his ass out again. It's a good sight, and Pete holds the plug between his thumb and finger, rolling it just to hear Patrick cry out.
“Do it,” Patrick hisses. “You said you were gonna. Eat my fucking ass.”
Pete pulls away at that, pushing the plug to sit snug to Patrick's rim again. “Nah, you said I was going to eat you out. You're not in charge.” Patrick scoffs at that, pulling his ass out of Pete's grip and muttering something beneath his breath. Pete yanks him back, a hand in Patrick's hair until he's falling into Pete, back to his chest. Pete pinches Patrick's jaw between his thumb and fingers, pressing down until he feels the ridges of Patrick's teeth.
“Yo, Pete,” Gabe warns, sitting up. His cock's gone a little soft in the last few minutes and Pete feels kinda bad for abandoning it. He shakes his head at Saporta's warning, his mouth against Patrick's cheek.
“It's fine, Gabe. He plays like he's in charge, but I know what he likes.” Patrick's eyelashes flicker, but his cock twitches when Pete touches it, pinching the base. “Now, you fucking shut that mouth or I swear to God you'll get a fucking spanking and nothing else.” Patrick makes the most delicious keening noise at that, and it almost drives Pete into pulling Patrick over his lap and drawing more bruises to his broken skin.
“Maybe I like getting spanked,” Patrick says when Pete lets him go. Pete's eyes roll back and he's about to grab Patrick around the neck when he just laughs softly. “Okay. I'm not sorry, but I'll stop talking back if you promise that we can pick things up.”
“Fucking finally,” Gabe says. He's jerking his cock back to stiffness with his own hand, knowing he can depend on the other two when they're arguing. Patrick's back is to Gabe now, and Pete hears Saporta snort at the toy in Patrick's ass. “Nice plug, Patrick. It suits your delightful personality.”
“I have the set. Makes me feel like a pretty princess,” Patrick preens, before dropping the simpering look to stare over his shoulder at Gabe. “I'm okay to take your dick now, if you're ready.”
“Let's get you out of this shirt,” Pete says when Gabe's nodded. Patrick's supplied the condoms and lube, because he's the fussy one, and Gabe goes through Patrick's bag at the end of the bed as Pete strips Patrick.
Patrick kisses Pete again, desperate and soft and not like everything else he likes. Pete pulls Patrick close to him on the bed, warm and sweaty in his arms and kisses him harder, until he hears how hard he's making Patrick breathe.
“You fucking melt when I kiss you,” Pete says against Patrick's mouth, pulling away so Patrick doesn't fucking pass out. “It's adorable.” Patrick digs his nails into Pete's shoulders, his usual bratty retort not coming out.
“You're a good kisser,” Patrick whispers back. His mouth opens again, like he wants to say something else, but then Gabe is looming over them and Patrick pulls away. Pete stares at the condoms in Gabe's hand, some kind of latex free brand Pete doesn't recognize, and he frowns.
“Hey, Gabe and I are both clean. Why not let us fuck you bareback-- fill you up with our come at the same time. Don't act like that isn't your thing.” Pete's leaning down, kisses pressing down against Patrick's thighs, his jaw rubbing the length of Patrick's cock.
“No,” Gabe interrupts Patrick again. “That's not what we agreed on. You two can play hard and fast with your safety, but I'm keeping my dick wrapped.” His eyes are directly on Pete for that, dark and hard until Patrick's reaching absently behind himself to pull the plug from his ass.
“Wrap your dick, then,” Patrick says, dropping the toy to the bed. It's not the biggest, but it's pale and pink. It's both incredibly Patrick and not very like him at all. Pete stares down at it, and then at Patrick crawling over to where Gabe's rolled a condom over his cock and slathered it in lube. He's got his shoulders pressed against the headboard, just like Pete told him.
“Reverse cowgirl, I like how you think,” Gabe says when Patrick straddles him backwards. Patrick leans onto his elbows, ass bent over as Gabe guides him down onto his dick. Patrick stares at Pete as Gabe pulls him down onto his cock. Pete pulls at his dick a few times, as Patrick suddenly sits back, resting against Gabe's chest. “Just like old times, huh?”
“Not really,” Patrick grits out but then he just sighs, his soft stomach jiggling slightly as he balances himself on Gabe's cock. Pete lifts Patrick up until the head of Gabe's cock is all that's inside, this time he slides two fingers in as Gabe gives a tight thrust. Patrick makes a noise like breath leaving his body. Pete hitches one of Patrick's thighs over his elbow, pushing it back. Pete can't imagine the burning sensation Patrick's feeling.
“When we're both fucking you, Gabe's going to hold your legs up, alright? I'll do the rest of it,” Pete says. He rubs his fingers against Gabe's cock hearing the low groan of his friend. An almost handjob in their other friend's ass. Jesus, it's intense. Pete's never really believed in the idea of coming without being touched, but he can already feel the way his balls are tightening; he's not going to last long inside Patrick.
“Fine, but neither of you touch my dick when you're fucking me. It's too much otherwise,” Patrick says, biting his lip. He's completely spread open now, one foot braced on the bed, his other leg pushed up near his chest. Pete looks down at Patrick's ass, spread open around Gabe's cock and Pete's fingers. “Give me a third finger now.”
Pete does as he's told, stretching up to kiss Gabe, sorry that he's been neglected a little. Gabe doesn't seem to mind, and they all groan when Patrick tightens hard around them both. Pete pulls away, sliding his fingers out to see Patrick looking the other way.
“Don't get pissy, you've had plenty of kisses already,” Pete says, but he pecks Patrick's nose when he finally looks at Pete.
“Put your dick inside me before I fucking tighten up,” Patrick says again. There's a petulant twist to his voice, but Pete sees Gabe rubbing Patrick's thigh like he's trying to placate him. Pete frowns, grabbing a condom and sliding it down over his cock. He squeezes more lube over it, wincing at the sorry state of his sheets before crawling over.
Pete runs his hands up Patrick’s damp thighs, sees the way his whole body is shaking. Pete kisses him, feels Patrick's arms fall over his neck to bring him in closer. “I got you,” Pete says, kissing Patrick's cheek before leaning back.
Gabe hitches Patrick's legs up, cock still nudged inside. Patrick's pretty soft in body, but he's flexible and he bends easy. It's awkward, Patrick's used to anal play, but he's still tight and it's a stretch, trying to line up and press inside.
Pete grunts when he figures he's still not getting in just yet. “Patrick, can you relax some more?”
“No,” Patrick hisses, and Pete gets stuck looking at him. He's got his head thrown back on Gabe's shoulder, sweaty hair flat to his forehead. He's breathing heavy, looks close to the edge. It's gorgeous, Pete's almost in love.
“Alright, I'm sorry. Baby, it's okay,” Pete says, trying for a different approach. Patrick doesn't seize up and scream at Pete for the pet-name, which is good. He opens his eyes and stares at Pete.
“Kiss me,” Patrick says and Pete nods his head, remembering. He folds himself over Patrick's sweaty body so that their lips can meet. Pete kisses him softly, feels Gabe's long arms fold over him, touching Pete's back, stroking down the solid muscles, Patrick's leg in the bend of his elbow. Patrick's wedged tight between them, and Pete kisses him, chases a tongue into his mouth as he moves one hand to his cock, pressing it to Patrick's sore, stretched rim. There's nothing to do but push slow and firm. He kisses Patrick because that seems to be the thing that softens him up and eventually Patrick opens around him, the head of Pete's cock sliding into Patrick's slick heat, pressed tight to Gabe. Jesus, it's hot; it's intense.
“Oh my fucking God,” Gabe stutters, one arm dropping Patrick's leg to press tighter to Pete, holding them all together. Pete can feel the fucking pulse of Gabe's cock, can feel their balls touching, can feel Patrick sweating between them; clenching around them. “Dude, I can feel you.”
“I know, right?” Pete looks up at Gabe, dark eyes blacker than normal, his curls drenched with sweat. “You okay, Patrick?”
“Yeah,” Patrick whispers. He's not saying much, he seems to be fading a little bit, headspace changing. Pete doesn't really play as heavy as Patrick, but he knows it's a thing. “Fuck me. Do it.”
Pete doesn't want to move, but he's the only one that can, so he sits up, hips pushed forward so he doesn't slide out. His knees ache already, but he helps Gabe catch a firmer grip on Patrick's thighs as he sits up. It's a hot sight, seeing the two of them buried balls fucking deep in Patrick.
Pete moves his hips back slightly, sliding his cock along the length of Gabe's, who moans loudly at the sensation. Patrick's just a wet mess, breathing, but not doing much else. Pete sees his cock pull out, but he leaves the head inside, rocking his hips forward again, snapping himself back into Patrick's ass.
It's not easy, but it's worth it. Pete pulls out before sinking back in. Patrick's tight like this; like a fucking virgin and some. The rock hard cock rubbing against Pete's own is delirious, the fact that it's Gabe's even better. They're a sweaty mess, and it's almost like he's fucking Gabe through Patrick. Patrick's a blathering mess in Pete's ear, soft little crying whispers about how this feels for him. Pete goes to touch Patrick's dick, hard and drizzling between them, before he remember Patrick doesn't want it touched.
Patrick wraps his legs around Pete, pulling him in, and giving Gabe's arms a rest. Gabe just pulls Pete in tighter, both of them buried so fucking deep in Patrick's ass; the ring of muscle squeezing them tight and tighter as Pete slides in and out, a perfect friction. Patrick whispers something a lot like I love you before he's tightening even more, and then Pete feels Patrick come between them. It sets off something in himself and Gabe. The fact that they're pressed even tighter into the already tiny space has them both grunting and climaxing. Pete feels Gabe's legs shake, feels him come right against his dick. They're both shaking, but Patrick whining between them and Pete can't even imagine how over-sensitive he must be.
Pete slides out as gentle as he can, pulling his condom off as Gabe deals with Patrick for the moment. Pete grabs a washcloth from his bathroom, dampening it under the water. He's in a fucking daze, high on something. It's a little like being baked, but with more clarity somehow. He feels more at peace and definitely more achy.
Pete heads back into his bedroom to see Gabe and Patrick curled up in the bed. Patrick has his face pressed into Gabe's chest, Saporta's condom resting on the bedside cabinet. Patrick's shoulders shake and Pete stands, feeling useless.
“Pete, come on. Patrick's a cuddler, is all,” Gabe says lightly. His eyes are serious again though, his fingers stroking Patrick's hair. Pete climbs onto the bed, abandoning the wet cloth to curl around Patrick's back.
“You're amazing Patrick, the smart mouth was worth every second of that.” Pete slides a hand over Patrick's belly. He pulls him back from hiding in Gabe's chest, so they're curled up together. “You did awesome.”
“Yeah, man. Best threesome of my fucking life,” Gabe says, wiggling down the bed so that he's nose to nose with Patrick. “Have you dropped?” Patrick nods his head slightly, one hand covering his face. “I'll get you some water. Pete, look after him.”
Pete's not used to the super serious Gabe that's suddenly appeared, but he watches him pull on his long-forgotten boxers before leaving the room. Pete rolls Patrick onto his back, watches him wince. Patrick's going to be sore for days, there's no getting away from that. Pete grabs the wash cloth and cleans Patrick's stomach up, wiping it through the fuzzy hair beneath Patrick's bellybutton. He presses it between Patrick's legs, apologizing when Patrick cries out slightly.
“It's not-- I haven't dropped properly,” Patrick whispers when Pete runs the cloth up and down Patrick's thighs, wiping more from comfort than cleanliness. “I got things confused in my head and I realized shit too late.”
“What shit? How could you even think when you had two dicks inside you?” Pete laughs, but Patrick doesn't. He just looks away.
“You kiss Gabe like you kiss me. You're not in love with Gabe.” Patrick swallows, eyeline focused on the ceiling instead of Pete.
“Well, no. I love him like a friend,” Pete says, he runs the cloth over his own stomach before Patrick's come dries on his skin. “Like I love you.”
“Yeah,” Patrick says softly. He sits up, face pinching. “Can you run me a bath?” Pete nods his head, just as Gabe re-enters the room with a bottle of water. He stands in the door for a moment, before heading over to Patrick. Pete leaves, confused at the weird atmosphere, confused at Patrick's behavior.
Pete runs the bathtub, uses his fanciest bubbles because he can bet Patrick would insist on them. He could do with a bath himself, and normally he'd hop in with Patrick, but there's something off in his mood and Pete doesn't want to get caught up in whatever insecurity Patrick's reveling in now.
When Pete's shut the water off, he's grabbing some towels from his laundry when he sees a fully-clothed Gabe help Patrick into the bathroom. Pete hovers, waits until Gabe closes the door on Patrick before cutting into view.
“What's wrong with him?” Pete asks, offering his mouth when Gabe leans down to kiss him. “You leaving already?”
“Yeah, you and Patrick have a ton of shit to talk about,” Gabe says, standing to his full height again. “Pete, why didn't you tell me he felt that way about you? I wouldn't have suggested him otherwise.”
“What are you--” Pete frowns, and then thinks about the entire thing today, how soft Patrick got with every kiss Pete gave him. The weird conversation before Gabe interrupted a few minutes back. “I thought he got over it years ago. Oh fuck.”
“You're an idiot and I'm leaving to let you deal with this mess.” Gabe gives Pete a pat on the ass, ruffling his hair afterward. “Pity, because I'd love to do it again. Guess we'll have to find someone else.”
“There's no one like Patrick,” Pete says and Gabe nods, giving Pete another obnoxious pat on the head before sidling past and ambling down the stairs. Pete sighs heavily, tucking the towels to his chest before walking back toward the bathroom.
Patrick's crying into his knees and Pete's heart sinks as he drops the towels onto the heated rack in the corner. Patrick wipes at his face, but Pete's already seen and it's too late.
“Patrick, you know I'm the densest dude in the fucking world.” Pete sinks down onto his knees, hand resting on Patrick's damp shoulder. “I didn't mean to lead you on. You're so mean sometimes that I wouldn't have figured you still wanted me that way.”
“It's a self-preservation thing with you. Scared you'd see right through me otherwise. I got confused in your kitchen, I thought you implied you wanted more,” Patrick sniffs, resting his cheek on his arms wrapped around his knees.
“I'm sorry,” Pete says and he means it all the way down to his pathetic little soul. “If I could love anyone enough to want a monogamous, serious relationship, it'd be with you.”
“If I'm too bossy I can stop. If that's what's stopping you,” Patrick whispers quietly. He isn't looking at Pete now, and it sucks. Their best fucking threesome has been reduced to sadness in a bathtub. Pete doesn't want Patrick changing for anyone, but he knows this offer isn’t open to anyone else. It catches Pete right in the chest when he realizes.
“That's not what's stopping me. It's the same thing that turned you down when you were nineteen. Fuck, I love your feistiness, that's so fucking hot.” Pete curves a hand to Patrick's cheek before standing up. He drops his boxers and climbs into the bath at the opposite end, thankful Patrick doesn't squirm away. “You have a ton of dudes waiting in line, anyway. Someone spent time spanking your ass raw recently. He might want to date you.”
“He's an asshole,” Patrick says softly, lips pushed out into a pout. He won't look up at Pete, but at least he's not leaving. Though, Pete figures, Patrick isn't going to be rushing anywhere fast over the next few days.
“Well, so am I. So are you,” Pete laughs and Patrick gives into a small smile, eyes down at his knees. “Speaking of assholes, how's yours?”
“Pretty sore,” Patrick whispers. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Don't.” Pete leans back against the tub, poking Patrick's thigh with his toe. “Look, I can't fall in love with you and you're not going to fall out of love any time soon, so we'll just deal with it, alright? We're best buds and that isn't going to change, so after our bath we'll go downstairs and I'll order pizza and we'll watch Rushmore or maybe something sad if you want to pretend that's what's making you cry, then we'll go to bed and fucking cuddle. I can't give you what you really want, but I can give you the next best thing.”
“We'd never work out,” Patrick says after taking Pete's words in. He looks pretty devastated; pretty exhausted, but he's not mad and that's good. “You're too soft in the bedroom, I need someone that can handle me better.”
“I wasn't at my best,” Pete shrugs, “but don't argue about that with me, I'll only try and prove I'm not soft and that'll just make this worse.” Patrick laughs and it fills the echo of the bathroom. He shrugs his shoulder, sad eyes and a sad heart, but at least they're talking. It's better than what it could be.