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It was a quiet ride out of the city. No one much wanted to talk, especially Alfred. He wasn’t much good at talking to people at the best of times, and he certainly had no idea what to tell Neil to take the haunted look out of his eyes. Neil had come upstairs with blood on his shirtfront and a distant stare in his eyes, and Alfred had realized with a start that he wanted to help wipe both of them away.

“Oy, Alfred,” Neil said, flashing him a short smile. “Something you want to say?”

Alfred shook his head.

“Good. Because we’re not going to talk about what happened today. We’re not going to think about it. All I am going to do tonight is get very drunk.”

“Good luck finding booze at the safehouse,” Tom said, poking at Neil from across the jeep.


As it turned out, the safehouse had a shelf full of bottles that certainly smelled like booze. Neil took a swig, grimaced, and passed the bottle to Tom.

“What is it?” Tom asked, looking suspiciously at the bottle.

Neil shrugged. “Strong.”

Aurora got the bottle next, and she passed it to Alfred, bypassing Harry.

“Hey!” Harry protested, trying to sit up off the bed they’d laid him out on and then wincing and clutching at his chest.

“You’ve had enough morphine already,” Tom said. “Save the alcohol for the rest of us.”

Alfred took a drink, nearly spitting it out again. “That’s horrible!”

Neil nearly doubled over laughing. “Isn’t it? Trust me, Harry, you’re not missing out.”

“I’ve still got the morphine,” Harry said, slurring his words a bit.

"Exactly!" Neil took a second swig, grimacing a little less this time.

After a few more rounds, whatever was in the bottle stopped burning as much, and Alfred began to feel very glad indeed that he’d pushed past his initial reaction. He could barely remember how the day had started anymore, and if it hadn’t been for Harry’s bandaged chest, Alfred might have entirely forgotten that he’d ever been worried.

The others seemed to share his sentiments. Harry, for his part, kept trying to sit up and join the revels, frowning down at the bandages that kept him from moving freely.

“Stop that, or you’ll tear something. We can’t have you bleeding out after going to all this trouble to save you.” Tom nudged Harry, then leaned in closer to kiss him.

Everyone in the room froze.

Alfred cleared his throat, grasping for the words that would erase the worry from his partners’ (his friends’) faces. “I’ don’t need to stop on my account. Not that you need to continue, I don’t mean to say I have to watch you, but--” He groaned and cursed the alcohol sloshing around inside of him. “It would be hypocritical of me to judge you, if you catch my meaning.”

It seemed they did, because the terrified-rabbit posture faded back into drunk camaraderie, with only a little tension like static around the edges.

Tom grinned at Alfred. “You have a man back home, then?”

Alfred shook his head. “I’ve never...” He trailed off, not sure he’d be able to articulate what he wanted to say even if he were stone-cold sober.

“Would you like to...?” Tom mimicked his ineloquence in a way that felt like an inside joke instead of a mockery.

Alfred nodded, and in the blink of an eye, Tom had him up against the wall, hands warm on his hips. Then he leaned forward and pressed their lips together, and pink bloomed at the corners of Alfred’s vision. He had no idea what he was meant to be doing, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. Tom’s eyes flickered shut and he scraped his teeth against Alfred’s lip in a very pleasant manner. Alfred tried to follow his lead, pressing back into the kiss and parting his lips when Tom did.

Tom’s hands roamed over Alfred’s body, tracing his biceps and his hips and his chest. Alfred thought he should do the same, pull Tom closer, connect them at more points than the mouth, but he could barely focus on moving his lips properly.

Tom pulled back. “You’re supposed to close your eyes,” he murmured, lips brushing against Alfred’s jaw.

“If I do, I won’t remember it as well.” Alfred’s voice had gone breathy. “I want to remember everything.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Neil said, and Alfred had forgotten he was in the room, as focused as he’d been on the flutter of Tom’s eyelids and the stutter of his fingers across Alfred’s skin. “Is this what we’re doing tonight, then?” He made a grab for Aurora, pulling both of them to the ground and hitching Aurora’s skirt up around her hips.

Tom raised an eyebrow and returned to kissing Alfred, who found his attention torn in three different directions. His eyes darted from Tom’s face in front of him to Aurora’s hands tightening in Neil’s hair as he licked at her to Harry biting his lip and palming at himself through his trousers, fingers too fumbling to undo them.

Tom brushed a hand against Alfred’s cock, which was straining at his trousers by now. “May I?”

Please,” Alfred said, surprised at the desperation in his voice.

Tom dropped to his knees, and pressed his lips to Alfred’s cock, mouthing at him through the cloth. Alfred gasped, fingers fluttering at his sides. Tom unzipped his fly (slowly, almost too slowly, but Alfred relished the tension) and licked a stripe up Alfred’s cock. Then he sucked Alfred into his mouth, and yellow sparks bloomed in Alfred’s eyes.

He couldn’t watch the room anymore, could only focus on Tom’s lips stretched around him and the color rising in his cheeks and the way he sometimes looked up at Alfred, eyes bright. Tom took Alfred’s hand and guided it to his head, and Alfred thought, All right, he could do this. He ran his fingers through Tom’s hair, feeling a little ridiculous, like he was petting a dog. But Tom moaned at his touch and so Alfred kept up, winding his fingers through Tom’s hair and playing over his scalp.

The pleasure evened out as Tom kept sucking and licking at him, until it wasn’t spreading across the field of Alfred’s vision and he could look over at Neil and Aurora. Aurora’s shirt was unbuttoned and she had her head thrown back, laughter turning to moans and back again as Neil buried his face between her legs. She let out a cry and nudged him back, and he came up for air grinning, kissing her thighs as she shuddered through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Tom did something amazing with his tongue, drawing Alfred’s attention back to him. Alfred gasped and accidentally tightened his fingers in Tom’s hair, and from his moan, that might have been what Tom had been looking for when he dragged Alfred’s hand to his head. Alfred gave an experimental tug, and Tom smiled as well as he could with a cock in his mouth and let out a contented sigh.

Alfred didn’t notice Aurora coming up to him until she’d put her lips against his. He tensed, and Tom immediately pulled off of him.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“It’s just...too much, the two of you.” Alfred waited to see disappointment, or disgust, but Aurora smiled and stepped back, taking a seat on the floor.

“You want me to--”

Alfred cut Tom off with a desperate, “Don’t stop, please!”

Tom laughed and went back to work, making Alfred groan.

He looked over at Aurora, who had slid a hand between her legs. “Later?” he gasped.

She grinned. “Of course.”

“Wasn’t I enough for you?” Neil laughed, sitting himself down behind her.

“It would be a shame not to enjoy the show,” she replied.

Alfred shivered, suddenly acutely aware of all three sets of eyes on him. He could almost feel them, hot on his face, and he found he rather liked the idea of putting on a show.

Tom swallowed him even deeper, and Alfred couldn’t hold back anymore. He gasped out a warning, expecting Tom to pull back (wasn’t that the done thing?) but Tom stayed put and swallowed. The feeling of his throat shifting around Alfred’s cock made Alfred’s knees go weak. He slid to the ground, grateful for the wall behind him, and didn’t even try to hide his smile.

The sight of Tom’s lips splattered with white was almost enough to get him hard again. “Fuck,” he whispered, pulling Tom closer to kiss him. Then he looked around the room, determined to take everything in now that he wasn’t quite so distracted. He wanted to remember it all—Aurora’s fingers sliding slickly in and out of herself, Neil pressing a kiss to her neck as he jerked himself off, Harry red-faced and desperate on the bed.

“Do you need me to, ah, help you out?” Alfred asked, feeling like he should do something in exchange for Tom sucking his brains out through his prick. But Tom only grinned and gestured to the wet spot on the front of his trousers and oh, Alfred hadn’t even noticed that happening.

“I’ll take you up on that next time,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to Alfred’s lips.

“If someone doesn’t come over here immediately, I’m getting up and coming to you,” Harry said, still trying and failing to undo his zipper.

“Hold your horses, Harry!” Neil laughed and walked over to him, kneeling by the foot of the bed and pressing a kiss to his tented trousers. He undid the zipper with his teeth, winking at Harry while he did.

“Mind if I leave you?” Tom asked. Alfred nodded his assent, not having quite gotten his words back yet.

Tom sat beside the bed (thank goodness it was low to the ground) and leaned over to kiss Harry. It was a practiced move, and Harry leaned back and moaned.

“I can taste him on you,” he said, making Tom’s face color.

Neil took a break from tonguing at Harry through his briefs to call out to Alfred. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“I don’t think I can stand,” Alfred admitted.

Neil laughed, and lifted Harry’s legs to tug his trousers and briefs down. Harry arched up into his mouth, gasps drowned out by Tom’s kiss.

Aurora slid closer to Alfred, giving him an inquisitive look. He nodded, and she laid her head against his shoulder.

“They’re wonderful to watch, aren’t they?” she said.

“It’s been an educational experience,” Alfred replied, and Aurora laughed.

Her hand traced over his thigh as they watched the others, an innocent and mindless caress. Alfred leaned his head against hers and watched as Neil slid his mouth up and down Harry’s prick. It was an entirely new experience watching from this angle, and he found himself wondering if he’d looked like Harry, face red and mouth slack with pleasure.

Tom had tugged down the collar of Harry’s shirt and was kissing his collarbone now, carefully avoiding the bandages on his chest. He left a chain of red marks behind where his lips passed, stringing across Harry’s skin like a necklace. Harry had given up all pretense of coherency, letting out a string of bitten-off syllables and ‘Tom’s and ‘Neil’s.

Neil slid down his prick until his lips were pressed to Harry’s skin, and Harry arched off the bed with a shout—first of pleasure, then of pain.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” he snapped when Neil moved to lift his shirt. “I promise.”

“If you say so,” Neil said, raising an eyebrow, but he left Harry’s shirt alone, sitting down and leaning his head against the bed. Tom pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead and then rested his head on the pillow beside him, and Alfred felt a pang in his chest at the domesticity of it all.

“I’ve been keeping you from this, haven’t I?”

Neil shrugged. “We all knew if we got fresh blood on the team, we’d have to stop. No fault of yours.”

“God, it’d been ages, though,” Tom said, after a quick glance at Alfred to make sure he hadn’t taken offense.

“The last time was Tom’s birthday,” Harry added, still a bit breathless. “We were back at the barracks, so we didn’t have to be as careful. Aurora loosened him up and then the rest of us fucked him, all three of us...” He trailed off, a flash of pain spreading across his face. Alfred saw, in his mind’s eye, the blurry photograph of a man laying facedown on the river’s edge. He squeezed Aurora’s hand.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that again,” Tom said, shaking off the sorrow like water. “Maybe next time we’re back in Canada, yeah?”

Alfred’s face flushed, thinking of Tom laid out before him, maybe already slick from Harry or Neil. “I could certainly try it out.”