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We Oughta Give it A Try

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John can’t stop touching the ribbon. Dark blue stretching up from the medal, brightly contrasting with his uniform. It’s beautiful. Unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Unlike anything he’s ever been able to call his.

He's been smiling since the moment he realized he'd won. Since he'd gotten that last hit in and the bell rang and people started cheering. Since before he'd tugged his mask off and turned around. Catching Lafayette's eye as he stood there cheering more obnoxiously than anyone else in the stands. Since before they placed the medal around his neck. First Place boldly engraved in the center. School, date, and location printed in laminate on the back.

The tournament had lasted for hours. Each seed getting progressively more difficult as the day wore on. Lafayette had sat there, leaning over the wall that divided the spectators from the competitors. Arms wrapped around John's shoulders. Quietly whispering instructions and notes into John's ear.

Tara had whined that John got to cuddle the whole competition. Had begged Lafayette for a hug before she went on. He'd given it to her too. Started a trend, really. Giving each competitor a hug before they scampered off to fence. He even made Tara blush when he kissed her cheek. Winking at her as she hurried over to take first position.

John rolled his eyes. Called him a scoundrel. Lafayette had just placed a hand on his heart. Did his best to look offended. "Moi?" he asked. Scandalized.

"Oui," John had replied. Not budging an inch.

This had been the first time John'd gotten the chance to use the touch sensors. It'd been strange at first. Threading the wire through his uniform so he could attach it to his sabre. (Lafayette still grumbled about the fact that John eventually switched from foil to sabre. Complaining that foil was so much better. John rolled his eyes every time he did). You couldn't argue with results, though. The sensor picked up the exact moment contact was made, and John felt adrenaline pumping through him from start to finish.

Fencing pools are generally quiet. Applause exploding at the completion rather than throughout. Judges watching closely for the moment when the tip makes contact. But when the explosion came. It came. The crowd had never sounded louder when John’s sabre touched home. And his ears are still ringing from it.

He won.

He won the whole event. There's a big trophy being made right this second. His name's going to be engraved on it. It's going to sit in the school trophy case for the rest of eternity.

He won!

 

More than that, his team won too. Won, and propelled them all to Nationals.

Alex had been screaming in the phone when John finally got him on the line, shouting between him and Aaron/Madison. Unable to control his excitement. Eventually Aaron had taken the phone from Alex. Put it on speaker so they could all talk at once.

When someone dragged John off for a photo with a local newspaper, Lafayette had snatched the phone from him. Waved him off, smiling, and completing the call while John got posed this way and that.

Things have settled a little now, but the buzzing adrenaline still hasn’t quite faded completely. With the rest of the team on a bus heading to campus, John’s immeasurably grateful that he and Lafayette had taken their own car. It means he can stare at the medal without worrying about looking like an idiot. He can look over at his boyfriend. Tell him something sappy, without the audience.

"Thank you," he starts.

Lafayette glances at him. He hasn't stopped smiling either. It's been more subtle. It's been less pronounced. But it's been there start to finish. "Thank you so much." John leans over the divide and kisses Lafayette's cheek. "You have no idea how grateful I am."

"For what?" Lafayette asks.

"For teaching me? Getting me involved?" For encouraging John to try out for the team. For not complaining too much when John had started to drift away from foil. Had started to really enjoy sabre. Had begun changing his practice habits. For willfully fighting John every night. For driving him to show after show. For financing his presence in this sport from start to finish. For not listening when John said he was the wrong color for this sport. For telling him to do it anyway. For not letting John doubt himself.

For believing he was good enough to attend a tournament like this.

For being there when John won first. First place at Regionals. He's going to go to Nationals. He's going to Nationals. Nationals are in two weeks, and he's got to arrange his schedule. Got to take finals early. Got to prepare for the trip. He can't believe this. He really can't. He's going to Nationals. Their school's so small. But their team made it. They're going. They're going!

"Thank you," He tells Lafayette again.

Lafayette reaches up and around. Ruffles John's curls. John closes his eyes, ducking under the touch. Trying not to preen at the contact. It's another reason he's happy to be in the car with Lafayette and not on the bus. Not that it's much of a secret with the rest of the fencing team how much he adores the light little touches. The gentle moments of well wishing that seem to carry him through the entirety of the match from one fight to the next.

In fact. They seem to think it's adorable.

John's not used to being adorable.

He's not used to having this many friends either.

But just last week Tara gave him a sticker to put on his fencing bag that says Certified Cinnamon Roll. And he has no idea why it makes everyone laugh when he sees it. Aaron had been nearly in hysterics when he saw the bag. Madison heartily agreeing. They both enjoyed drawing out the phrase cinn-amon like it meant something different. And Alex was always right there, nodding along in agreement. Usually patting John's head. "Too good, too pure." Which seems to have caught on, because John hears the team saying it every so often.

But. They are his friends. He got invited to Jeremy's birthday party. He helped Alvie with his homework. He took Shauna and Daniel to the store when they needed a ride and the bus was running late. He gets texts occasionally from the various members of the team. Joins them for their pasta dinners.

He's not sure how any of this happened. But he knows Lafayette started it. Knows that he wouldn’t have ever spoken to any of them if it wasn't for Lafayette. It's been a long time since John felt this comfortable about anything. Since he felt so at peace with where he was in life. "Thank you," he says again. He doesn't know how to convey all the thoughts in his head. Doesn't know how to put the words in the right order. He wishes he could. Wishes he could tell Lafayette exactly how he's feeling. Wishes he could show the man how much it all meant to him.

"You're welcome," Lafayette tells him. Squeezing his hand. John squeezes back. He's going to Nationals.

He's going to Nationals.

He’d never thought he’d be going to Nationals. Never thought he’d place first. That of the forty-five points needed to win team, he’d scored almost half of them. That he be the first sophomore to be selected for the team match. Ralph had shaken his head. Made it clear. “You’re the fastest out of everyone.”

And he was . Davis had timed some of his touches. Shown him the results. Consistently he got in and out quicker than his peers. His lunge covered more ground. He avoided getting hit more often. His indicator score was one of the highest of the tournament’s. And Columbia’s coach even came over to talk to him afterward.

Columbia.

Not that he had any intention of changing schools. But. Columbia.

“Davis said he was gonna look into a scholarship for next year.” John’s fingers squeezed around the medal. A scholarship. For him. He...he never thought he'd get any kind of scholarship. Especially not like that. “Help with some of the aid.” The less of his mother’s life insurance policy he used, the better. He hated tapping into it. Even if it was set up for exactly this reason.

And a scholarship...for something he already loved doing naturally...?

“You deserve it.” Then, with a wry smile, he nudged John’s arm. “I do believe you are better than me, now.”

John had been wondering that for some time. If Lafayette had been letting him get those hits in recently. If when they practiced together Lafayette purposefully attempted to bolster his confidence by giving in.

The struggle with practicing with Lafayette in the first place was that Lafayette preferred foil.  Preferred being able to hit with all sides of his sword rather than just the tip.

More often than not, Lafayette’s touches weren’t real touches. They’d need to reset and try it again.

“You’re better at foil than me,” John tells him. Lafayette just smiles. Running his hand over John’s arm. He stops back at John’s wrist. Plays with the skin there a little before ducking his fingers against John’s palm and holding it.

He flicks the turn signal and gives a honk to the bus letting them know they’re leaving the pack. The bus honks back. Then, they’re turning onto the street leading up to Lafayette’s house. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he tells John. “You did so well today.”

Well enough, that when they reach the house— there’s a party waiting for them.

John blinks. Laughing when he sees the mess Alex made. A mixed assortment of balloons are tied to the banister of the front porch, Darth Vader through Dora the Explorer. Streamers are rolling down from the gutter. Someone’s pinned fairy lights to the front door.

When they actually get inside, Alex propels himself into John’s arms. Squeezing him breathtakingly tight before pulling him over to see the rest of the house. Baked goods line the counter. Chips and soda gathered on the table. There’s some Frito Chili Pie warming in the oven. There’s a bottle of water being handed to him by Aaron. “Thank you,” John says, snatching it and popping the cap as Alex continues the impressive tour.

“You’ll never get any otherwise,” Aaron replies. Rolling his eyes. He’s telling the truth. Alex shows no signs of stopping, and even Madison is shaking his head fondly at it all.

John half wonders how long they’ve been working on this. Regionals was nearly eight hours away, and the drive had taken the bulk of the day. It’s late, but everyone’s still up. Still standing there smiling and applauding. Congratulating him and giving him cards.

Alex shoves his card in first. Handmade Tony the Tiger giving John a thumbs up saying Yooooooou’rrreee Great! “I even gave him a sword!” he did. It’s tucked into the bottom. Squeezing in around a couple of big purple hearts.

Aaron steps up and gives John a quick hug, wishes him well. Madison delivering much the same, if somewhat more awkwardly. Then the both of them are heading out the door with a jaunty “See you tomorrow” tossed over their shoulders.

It’s the only warning John has before Alex is there. Pressing hard against his body. Nuzzling against his chest. His throat. Leaving kisses on John’s collar bone.

Christ yes.

It’s still awkward. Especially since Aaron and Madison clearly left with this in mind, but John lifts his hand. Wraps it around Alex’s hair and pulls it back just enough to give him a kiss. Alex moans, eyes fluttering shut as he arches into the touch. Mouth inviting John for the plunder. It’s so nice to give. To take. To squeeze Alex tight and feel him pressing even more enticingly against him.

Lafayette steps in behind him. Planting rough hands on John’s hips and shifting him so when Alex tries to get more contact, he can’t get the angle he wants. Can only whimper. “Shall we make mon amour happy, chaton?” Lafayette whispers. He’s saying it in John’s ear, but it’s not meant for him. It’s meant for Alex. Alex, who makes another keening noise. Who arches even more. Holding onto John’s body as he tries desperately to nod his head.

John’s holding Alex’s hair too tightly for that. His head only shifts a little. But when it does, John can see Alex’s eyes rolling back. His lips part with a heady pant. Tongue flicking out to wet them. John pulls Alex’s hair back even more. Stretching that delectable throat as far as it will go. Skin and muscle strain. Sinew taut.

John leans forward. Traces the throat with the edge of his teeth. Sliding them up and down one muscle in particular. Relishing in the gasps Alex provides. Eager for more.

Nosing at Alex’s collar. He find his spot. Braces Alex with a hand at the base of his back, then bites. Hard. The keening moan is everything . Alex’s knees go weak, and John holds him upright. Keeps him in position as he feels the swollen flesh burning in his mouth. John flicks his tongue out. Licking the indentations his teeth left. Kissing the bruise that’s forming.

Lafayette grinds into John’s ass. Cock teasing and hard. John’s eyes flutter. He pulls Alex toward him. Eager to take everything and more. Wanting every bit of what Alex can offer him.

He barely has time to consider what he’s going to do next, when he feels Lafayette’s mouth moving its way down the back of his throat. Settling just at the junction of his neck and shoulder. It’s the only warning he receives, before the bite he’d given Alex is returned to him in full.

This time, it’s Alex holding him up. Even as John’s vision turns white. His head starts feeling suddenly empty of all thoughts and complaints. All concerns or planning. He can feel Lafayette looping one arm around his waist. Can feel Alex shifting his hands to bracket John more firmly against Lafayette’s body.

For a brief moment in time, John’s floating. Fiery pain flares brightly across his synapses, but he rides it out. Feels its tender waves and knowing affection. There’s a small part of him that thinks he should probably not submit like this. That thinks Alex came all this way to be with him, and if he submits, he’s not going to be able to give Alex what he wants.

But when Lafayette pulls back, it’s only for a fraction of a second. Only long enough to reach out and snatch Alex firm. Hold both of them, John’s back still pressed against Lafayette’s front, Alex’s front still pressed against John’s. But Lafayette’s got both in hand. “Shall you please mon amour?”

And that’s it. Lafayette’s got both in hand. He can manage this. John lets go. Bliss clouding all rational thought and judgement as Alex takes him by hand, and leads him up to bed.

It’s Lafayette who lays John on his back, though. Who tells Alex to get on top of him. “Why don’t you undress him, chaton?”

Alex nods. Pushes at John’s shirt. Tucking his fingers around the hem and pulling. Cold fingers sliding up against John’s sides. John squirms. Leans up so Alex can pull the shirt over his head.

Almost the moment the shirt’s been removed, Lafayette’s hand is tangling in John’s hair. Pulling his head back and holding him in place. His scalp twinges. His eyes flutter.

He’s been fighting all day. Every moment of every second of this day. From start to finish. And he loves fencing. He does. He can’t fathom a world where he no longer fences. But it’s combat from the moment he wakes up to now.

And when Lafayette holds him in place. Tells Alex to remove John’s pants next. It’s so easy to just let it happen “Look at you,” Lafayette coos. He slides his hands over John’s chest. Fingers pinching John’s nipples cruelly. Pulling him upright so he’s arching. Lafayette sliding behind him.

John whimpers. The sound is pulled up from him. Cold air is wrapping all around him. His legs are bare, and then there’s heat. Heat and the feeling of clothing pressing against his bare thighs. His back.

“That’s it chaton... He deserves your mouth on him doesn’t he? Deserves to feel you take him down?” Alex whines. His fingers wrap around John’s hips. His nose presses against John’s groin. Tongue trailing lines from root to stem.

Lafayette’s nails are digging into John’s chest. Stinging so much he can arch into it. Mouth wide. “Do you want something, mon amour?” John does. He does , but he can’t speak. Words are lost. His tongue is laden with weight. He stares up blearily at Lafayette. Alex wraps his lips around his cock, and John loses sight of Lafayette’s face.

He gasps again. Arches into Alex’s precious mouth. Warm and tight and sinful. Oh God…

Lafayette runs his nails across John’s chest. Lifts his fingers and traces across John’s lower lip. Pushing inside. John’s mouth closes around it. The finger slides back and forth between his lips. Pumping in and out. Slowly. Carefully. Even as Alex marks his pace on John’s dick.

John’s eyes roll back in his head. He breathes in through his nose. Rapid bursts. One finger becomes two. Three. His lips burn with pressure, his tongue is flattened. He tries to suck on the fingers. Half desperate for the feeling to continue. Alex is sucking harder. Harder than ever before. Sinking down so his lips are kissing John’s groin.

Something presses against John’s ass. He whimpers. Fingers reaching out. Scrambling for purchase. One of Lafayette’s hands wraps around his left wrist. Pins it down. The other keeps shifting. Fingers sliding in and out of John’s mouth smoothly.

No need to think. No need to speak. No need to conjure up words his brain struggles to say. He just needs to lay there. Lay there. This feels nice.

The rough press of jeans. The sharp sting of a zipper. John’s lifted up and turned. His head is spinning. He’s sprawled against Lafayette’s front. The fingers are gone. Gone to adjust something else. Somewhere else. He whines. Head falling forward.

He laps at Lafayette’s throat. It’s not enough. He needs something in his mouth. Not resting against his lips. He’s-he’s—

Something presses against his hole. He jerks. Whimpers. Alex is there. Alex is there and it’s wet and smooth and oh God—

“That’s it...that’s it ma belle.” Lafayette’s hands are back. His perfect hands. Always in motion. Always there. Holding and gripping. Sliding and caressing. Alex is pushing his fingers inside John and John can’t think.

Can’t process.

He opens his mouth again. A needy little bird. Desperate for something to fill it. Lafayette pulls him down. Pulls him so his lips are constantly in motion. They kiss. They kiss and Lafayette plunders his mouth. Ravaging each open space. Taking and claiming. It’s so good. So perfect.

Alex’s hands are wrapped firm around John’s hips. “Shall he take you, mon amour? Shall you feel him inside you?” John nods hazily, and Alex does just that. Pushes in. Slides home. He stays still though. Stays still. Harsh burn of his jeans still pressed against John’s thighs. Their clothes will stain. They’ll be ruined by this.

It doesn’t seem to matter. Neither Alex nor Lafayette show any signs of undressing. Still grinding the rough fabric against him. Setting his skin aflame.

Lafayette pushes back. Shifts John’s angle on Alex’s cock. Shifts them both so Alex is on his back. So John’s gasping and shuddering on top. Eyes closed. Lungs heaving for air. He’s pushed back farther. Farther. Until Alex holds him. Babbles in his ear. They’re lying on top of each other. Lafayette bracketing them in. There’s a finger tracing their join. There’s a hand pushing John down.

“So good you feel so good,” Alex chants. Hugging his arms around John’s body. Mouthing at John’s shoulder. John’s head falls. He’s theirs for the taking.

Lafayette presses in. One finger sliding alongside Alex’s cock and John gasps. Alex moans. “Don’t you dare move, ma petit. Don’t you even think about it.” Alex whimpers. Squeezes John’s chest even tighter. Can’t stop telling him how good it feels.

How hot he is. Pleading Lafayette if he can move. Please. Please let him move. Let him do anything.

But no. Lafayette presses his finger further alongside Alex’s shaft. In and out. In and out. John’s hips move. Meeting each thrust. Gasping at each contact.

He’s vaguely aware of the lube being drizzled on him. The extra care and consideration going into this. The negotiation Lafayette and Alex must have had prior.

Two fingers. Three.

That’s not a finger.

That’s—

“— Laf!” Alex moans. He’s shaking so violently beneath John’s body that he may as well have been a vibrator. Bought and purchased at the local adult outlet. Just for their pleasure. His pleasure.

Lafayette’s there. Both of them are there. Both of them are there inside him and John’s going to self destruct. He’s going to tear in two. He gasps. Shivering. Hot and Cold. “You can move now, Alex,” Lafayette teases.

It’s all Alex can do. He tries to buck up. Tries to gain friction. Lafayette’s holding John so firmly in place. His teeth trail against John’s throat.

“Come for us,” He commands, and John does just that.

The moment Lafayette’s teeth sink in. The moment Alex moans filthily beneath him. The moment Lafayette pulls almost completely out before slamming home.

He’s too full. He’s not full enough.

And it’s perfect.

“Congratulations mon amour,” Lafayette whispers. “You won.”