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Don't Touch That Dial

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Malcolm paces the floor. It’s been thirty four minutes since his last text from JT and Gil who have been radio silent all day. He’s well aware Gil is probably holed up in his office with a bottomless stack of paperwork and JT is probably running down a lead or following up with whatever evidence he found with Dani.

Both logically sound reasons as to why neither Gil nor JT are not responding to his messages, yet neither reason is satisfactory.

He can’t help but wonder if he’s gone too far this time.

Maybe his last message was too much, or maybe it’s not enough and they’re bored of his attempts to rile them up while at work.

Regardless, the longer he thinks about it and the longer the stupid ‘Read 8:41’ laughs in his face, the more frustrated and self-conscious he becomes.

Malcolm throws his head back and scrubs his face until the smallest ounce of anxiety disappears through his fingers. They should be home soon.

He pulls his head from his hands, eyes landing on the bottle of bourbon next to a glass tumbler and suddenly the idea of drinking seems like a great idea.

The glass he pours doesn’t last. He pours himself another one and sits on the bar stool with just the drink in his hand and his hopes for an eventful night when his partners walk through the door.

His hand ghosts over his thigh and down to his knees, rolling it back in between his legs and presses his palm against the crotch of his sweatpants, thinking about all the different positions his partners could put him in if he just asked. He wonders what they would think if they saw him right now, palming his growing erection on the idea of what they could do to him.

Just then, a buzz resounds through the loft. Malcolm immediately drops his hand before running to the intercom desperately trying to push those thoughts away.

His brain is in such a flurry he hardly registers the words “Malcolm Bright, this is the NYPD” through the speakers and opens the door anyway, quick to assume the worst has happened to his partners in the line of duty. To think his partners are in danger and here he is fantasizing about the lewdest things–he didn’t have time to grab a shirt or look presentable for a pair of cops at this hour.

The sharp knock at the front door forces him to collect himself, take a deep breath, and prepare for the worst. Malcolm undoes the latches and reaches for the handle. “I am so sorry about the mess, officers, I was just–”

Malcolm’s heart stalls. Standing in the hallway of his loft is an amused JT just as sharp as he was when he left the house this morning and an uncharacteristically solemn Gil, handsome yet brooding. The next breath comes out harsher than it should but neither of his partners seem the least bit thrown off by it.

They push forward without a word and Malcolm clears the doorway for the both of them, eyes wide as his overactive mind tries to catch up to the present after jumping to drastic conclusions. His partners are way too quiet for his subconscious to rest.

This is weird. “What are you doing?”

“We’re here on a case,” JT says smoothly, glancing over the entire loft with his back turned and his hands snug in his pockets. “Got a couple of questions I need you to answer first. Sound good?”

Malcolm’s confusion is the loudest thing in the room compared to their shoes on the floor. He watches his partners observe the loft as if it’s their first time being here, talking among themselves like he isn’t standing there. It quickly dawns on him that this act must be a joke. The smug look on JT’s face makes another appearance, brows raised as he waits for an answer.

“Of course…officer.” He forces a breath, then smiles like he has something to hide. “Anything for the men in blue.”

JT nods and continues walking around the loft.

To Malcolm’s left and the furthest from the front door stands Gil, still in his black turtleneck and slacks from this morning, quietly inspecting the place as if Malcolm isn’t standing right there waiting for a hug, a kiss, or maybe even a ‘welcome home’.

He’s not going to get it. His partners are up to something and he can’t quite put his finger on it, so he resorts to doing what he knows best.

“Find anything interesting?” he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s not a smart move because Gil stops whatever he’s doing just to turn around and face Malcolm with a stare that could crush the guiltiest of men.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were in your position, Mr. Bright,” JT cuts in, hand sliding on the countertops until he spots his phone. “Mind if I take a look?" 

“‘Mr. Bright’, how awfully polite. And who might you be?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“Detective Tarmel. This is my boss, Lieutenant Arroyo, so I would advise you to be a bit more respectful when you address us.”

Malcolm just narrows his eyes with a grin. “You don’t even have a warrant, so why the hell do you need to search my phone?”

“Watch your mouth,” Gil shouts, startling Malcolm to silence. “Show some respect.” Gil takes one long look at him from across the room, seconds stretching on, until he casually walks over to him. Malcolm just waits for something to happen, still unnerved by his change in tone. Maybe this isn’t a joke.

Just when he thinks Gil is going to speak, Malcolm feels his body move before his mind does, and in seconds he’s being spun around and pushed against the nearest wall with his legs caught between Gil’s and his wrists bound together in total submission.

He struggles against his hands and tries to wrestle his way out but Gil’s got a vice grip on his wrists and his legs are trapped with no real leverage. It’s unlike Gil to act this way; Malcolm’s not sure if he should be worried or aroused, but either way, Gil has a plan in mind and JT clearly has no intentions of stopping him. “What happened to asking a few questions?”

Gil shrugs. “I changed my mind." 

His heart flutters in his chest, simultaneously trying to catch his breath and losing it to the swell of anxiety in his chest. This isn’t going how he expected it to. “This is a set up. You didn’t come here for a case.”

“We did,” JT says with ease. “Just not going to disclose any information to you.”

“Even dirty cops are less obvious than you.” Gil’s foot kicks his ankles, pushing it aside so he can press his leg against his crotch and apply the right amount of pressure to make him choke. “What do you want from me?”

Gil gets a handful of his ass and gently squeezes, leaving his hand to linger on the fabric of his boxers. “I’m looking for something in particular. Testing out a theory, if you will. If I’m wrong, you get to walk free and we can pretend this never happened.”

Malcolm swallows hard. “If you’re right?”

Gil hums lowly and nudges his knee even further pressing hard enough to draw a moan from Malcolm. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Do you comply with my orders? Or will I have to force you?”

He shakes his head. “No.” 

“‘No’ you don’t comply with my orders or ‘no’ I won’t have to force you?" 

“I comply with your orders, sir.”

After a beat, Gil loosens his grip on Malcolm’s wrist but maintains his hold as his free hand roams his ass all the way around to the front of his sweatpants, his fingers untying the strings.

“What are you doing?” He tests the strength of his grip and pulls his hips away from Gil but it’s no use; Gil locks his wrist in a death grip and continues to poke and prod his ass like he’s searching for something he’ll never find. “Get your hands off me. I didn’t agree to this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” JT comments from the side, arms crossed with a neutral expression.

Feeling on Malcolm as he squirms in his hold, Gil’s wandering fingers land on a piece of glass and a smug grin spreads wide across his face. “I was right.” He looks over at JT with matching smirks, fingers still wrapped around the base of the plug he’s found. “You owe me one.”

“Next round's on me then,” JT chuckles.

Malcolm’s heart thuds. There’s no way.

Inevitably caught in whatever secret trap they have for him, Malcolm tries to steady his heartbeat and braces for the worst. “And uh, what were you planning on doing with this?” Gil asks, his fingers pulling on the base. 

“I’d like to know, too.” Suddenly, the power of two men standing at his side, cornering him in his own loft is overwhelming but entirely welcomed, and whatever fantasy he dreamt about right before they walked in resurfaces like an old flame and makes his sweats tighter.

“Put it back,” Malcolm mumbles into the wall. 

“What was that?” Gil hooks the plug in between two fingers and slowly drags it out much to Malcolm’s discomfort. “I don’t think I heard you,” he says into his ear, pushing and pulling the plug as his lips hover over Malcolm’s neck. 

“Put it back,” he whines, pushing his hips backwards into Gil’s palm. “Please put it back…sir.”

“You’ve learned some manners.” Gil ignores his request completely, too distracted by the little squelch of the plug every time he pops it out of his ass. “This one’s pretty big. JT, come look at this.”

JT steps closer at his command and towers over Malcolm as he leans in with interest, whistling low as if he were impressed. Malcolm throws an incredulous look over his shoulder just as the pop of the plug echoes through the space again and Gil shoves it right back in just to see Malcolm writhe against him.

“What are we going to do about him?” JT asks, almost too calm for what’s happening.

Gil drops the plug and stares at the beautiful picture before him: Malcolm pinned against a wall with his legs slightly parted, back arched, and a glass pink plug placed perfectly between his cheeks as if it was made for him. Hand over his goatee, Gil hums in thought. “Cuff him.”

Malcolm’s eyes widen with panic. “No, you can’t–” he pleads, moving from where Gil put him and faces them both head on. “Please, I didn’t do anything wrong!” 

His back instantly collides with the wall and Gil’s hand wrapped firmly around his neck and the gleam of a genuine threat behind his eyes. “Who told you to move?”

Malcolm starts to claw at the fingers squeezing his throat like it’s going to help his case, but Gil’s expression tells him to quit while he’s so far behind. This really isn’t a joke.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean it. Please, I’ll do anything,” he whispers, “Just…don’t take me away. Please.” 

Gil stares him down. “Anything?" 

Malcolm hurriedly nods.

Gil looks over at JT who just shrugs, leaving the decision up to him. He debates what he’s going to do next, clearly a different decision since the fading air in Malcolm’s lungs don’t seem to speed up the process, nor his insistent struggling since his next breath will be because Gil allowed it.

Then a small grin adorns Gil’s face and he finally lets go.

Malcolm slumps against the wall with one hand on his neck and the other supporting his weight, coughing as he desperately tries to catch his breath. frightening.

Still, he refuses to let them think they’ve gotten the edge on him.

With his cock tall and proud and peeking out of his boxers, tip red and Malcolm equally needy, he stares at the haunting gazes devouring him just from a few feet away with renewed fight, rising to his feet as if to challenge their position.

“What now, officers? Are you done with your little ‘search’?” 

JT just smirks. He shrugs off his leather jacket in the middle of the floor as he walks over to Malcolm, a calmness to his gait, and props his arm up above his head. “He might be, but I’m not.”

It’s very clear to him what his partners intentions are and how determined they are to getting it and he’ll be damned if they think he’ll just fold like a house of cards. He narrows his eyes in a challenge. “Show me.”

Gil spins him by his arm again and attacks his mouth in a bruising kiss while JT grabs hold of his hips, pressing kisses and bites in the crook of his neck like it’s the best meal he’s ever tasted. Thick fingers slide off his hips and pull his boxers down to his ankles to cup his balls while JT’s half-hard cock rests between his cheeks. 

Malcolm’s teeth scratch Gil’s lip in a fierce attempt to draw blood and get a rise out of him, and Gil’s got a hand in his hair before Malcolm can retreat.

“Bed,” Malcolm chokes out, tapping on Gil’s shoulder in between hungry kisses. 

“You are in no position to be making orders.” His teeth pull on Malcolm’s lower lip as he pulls away to look at the ruffled mess he’s made of him, completely enamored with the older man. The tug at his scalp gets his attention. “What did I say about respect?” 

Before he can give a witty retort, Gil is back to working his mouth open with his tongue and swallowing every moan that leaves Malcolm’s throat, his fingers resting gently on top of JT’s gripping his hips. Malcolm keens with need–a few strokes from Gil are exactly what he needs if his partner wasn’t so focused on playing the long game.

Then JT rocks against him and Malcolm loses his footing before Gil is there to catch him and lie his head on his chest. “JT, please,” he begs, unconsciously spreading his legs apart for JT to fit in between his thighs. The heat in his stomach spreads through his veins until his body screams for release but Malcolm squeezes his eyes shut, unwilling to give in so soon but failing miserably. 

“You want this?” JT pushes up against him, Gil already there to press against his front, and leans in his ear low enough for only Malcolm to hear him. “You want my fat cock?”

“Yes,” he whines into Gil’s chest. “Please, I’m so close.” 

JT kisses into his hair and shoves the plug deeper, faster, right on tempo to keep Malcolm rolling his hips against him until a hand strokes his cock and a long cry slips from Malcolm’s lips, his body tingling with arousal as Gil pumps him and in no time is Malcolm spilling into his hand as JT shoves the plug right against his prostate.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures, the power of his orgasm has his legs buckling under his weight and throws Malcolm off balance. It takes a moment to come down and come back to his senses but when he does, he notices the pressure is gone and Gil is not within sight.

Then JT snickers from behind him.


“Someone’s made a mess…”

“Shut up,” Malcolm huffs out, “and finish what you started.”

JT raises a brow at that. “For someone who doesn’t want to follow the rules, you have a lot of demands.”

Before Malcolm can get another retort in, JT hauls him off the ground and into his arms bridal style, smirking as he carries him over to the bed and carefully sets him down on the sheets.

“Where’s Gil?”

“Bathroom.” JT takes his time stripping down to his own boxers, grinning when Malcolm gets off the bed to roam his chest with his hands until his arms wrap around his neck and JT’s hands land on Malcolm’s slim waist. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

His lips catch Malcolm in a gentle kiss. One without rush, a savory sweet exchange almost to slow down time and remind him that his love is always present. Malcolm eagerly returns it, allowing his body to be pulled in by the bigger man, his own feelings just as strong and complex. He makes a mental note to convey them more often.

Sweet blooms into something deeper and needy, not a race to claim the other but a desperation to be closer, moving against each other as they rekindle the heat from earlier.

They’re so wrapped up in each other that they miss the sound of the door opening. “Am I interrupting something?” 

The kiss breaks off into laughter as they pull apart and welcome Gil back with open arms, happily trapping Malcolm in between their bodies again. The feeling of being close to hi partners never gets old and if time would allow it, Malcolm wishes they could stay like this forever, warm and secure.

“Speaking of interrupting something…” JT nods toward the bed. “I think someone here thought they were in charge tonight.”

Malcolm playfully shimmies between them looking everywhere but up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so?” Gil wraps his arm around Malcolm’s waist breaking the trap and walks him to the bed letting him fall to the sheets so he maneuver around him to crawl to the headboard. “You’ve kept our phones busy while you played with yourself before we got home,” Gil slowly kneels on the edge, “the least you can do is own up to it.”

“Yeah, what did you say over the phone?” JT’s lips quirk up in a grin. “I had to do a double take to make sure I read it correctly.”

Malcolm keeps his eyes glued to the sheets. When the front door closes and confines them to a single space, they are at the mercy of each other, all wounds, fears, and wants exposed to the air and no way out. Despite his partners’ constant reassurance and continuous check-ins, there are times when Malcolm stumbles to voice what he wants and nothing is more embarrassing than his lingering insecurity in the middle of sex.

Sure, it’s so much easier to send a text message without reaping the consequences of what may come of it but here, sitting face to face with the two men that he loves more than anything, his confidence dwindles and he gets roped into a slew of annoying intrusive thoughts.


He turns his head towards the voice and meets Gil’s eyes, warm and comforting like a fresh blanket.

“Mind repeating what you told us? The one thing that you’ve been craving all day.”

The longer he stalls, the more painful it becomes and the last thing he wants is to end the night here. Malcolm closes his eyes, inhales, then exhales.

“You,” Malcolm whispers, too zeroed in on Gil to notice the hands running up and down his thighs. Electricity pumps through his veins as his eyes start to feel heavy and his body loses all of the tension it’s been holding as if he’s under a spell. “I want all of you. I need–” Malcolm falls forward onto his knees and lowers himself in between Gil’s legs, eyes locked on the very thing that’ll have him seeing stars if he asks nicely. He rests a hand on the one massaging his inner thighs. “I need both of you. I want to feel you come inside me, use me, fill me up, I don’t care. I just need you.

Malcolm’s free hand falls to his own hardening cock and lazily tugs, legs spread wide enough for the both of them.

“Remind me why I’m useless.”

Malcolm can't account for the two minutes missing from his conscious memory. The next thing he knows, Gil’s got a hand wrapped around their cocks while their tongues collide in fervent and desperate kisses.

Behind them seats JT adoring his body like it’s the temple he worships, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he can get his mouth on, and when the kisses don’t work anymore, he hooks the base of the plug in between his fingers and toys with it before pulling it free.

JT ignores the groan from Malcolm as he scoots off the bed to grab something while Gil turns Malcolm’s attention back on him with just the guidance of his finger. Soon enough, a finger circles his rim a few times without pressing in just yet but being there is enough to momentarily pull Malcolm out of a kiss.

“Let me have him,” JT says quietly, gently grabbing Malcolm’s hips. Gil lets him replace his hands with his own and guides his body backwards right onto his lap. Leaning forward on his elbows and his ass in the air, Malcolm looks up at Gil as JT spreads his cheeks open with just one hand and lines his cock up with the other.

A quick stripe of lube and a few tugs later, JT plants a kiss to his lower back and slowly presses the tip in past the furled muscle.

The stretch is heavenly as he’s fed inch by inch, his body welcoming the bite of pain that comes with. “Fuck, that’s good,” Malcolm moans. From where Gil sits on the bed, he relaxes as he enjoys the view of JT’s thick cock disappearing into Malcolm and the beautiful faces he makes as he’s being filled.

JT takes a second to adjust his grip on his hips–Gil using the time to draw Malcolm’s mouth back to his lonely cock resting on his thigh–and when he’s got his nails ready to make divots in his skin just how he likes, he snaps his hips and punches a cry out of Malcolm.

“Eyes here, Bright.” Gil tugs at his cock with an expectant look. “Open wide.”

“Yes, sir.” Malcolm licks his lips and drops his head between his shoulders and immediately takes Gil into his mouth, sucking on the tip and swallows every bead of precome that smears his lips. 

JT rocks his hips in a steady rhythm as Malcolm’s mouth settles on Gil’s cock, all three of them sighing in unison. “God, you’re so perfect,” JT groans, “so goddamn perfect.”

Gil tangles a hand through his hair as he watches Malcolm bob his head up and down like he’s starving, hallowing his cheeks the deeper he goes and coming back up to swirl his tongue around the tip. Gil tugs on his hair as if to praise him for his work. “How’s that feel, sweetheart?”

A whine breaks free and Malcolm nearly stops altogether. There is just something about that nickname that makes him weak in the knees and Gil has a habit of saying it at the worst possible times. Instead of responding, Malcolm hums and sinks down until his nose touches his pubic bone, drawing a soft groan from Gil as he tugs on his hair some more.

The bed dips once again and in seconds the tempo skyrockets; JT pistons himself in and out of the wet heat with the strength to make Malcolm stop completely and howl at the ceiling. The buzz from the sudden shock travels through his body as JT picks up the pace, a thin line of sweat already building across his hairline as he grunts from exertion. “Harder.” Eyes squeezed shut, Malcolm rolls his hips back in time with JT’s thrusts in a desperate attempt for more. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Too busy chasing his high, Malcolm misses the low growl reverberating through JT’s chest and only catches his change in pace right before he feels his head shoved into Gil’s lap, his moans cut off by Gil feeding him his cock. He holds himself up on one elbow and strokes Gil with the other, spit dribbling down his chin. “Shit,” comes from above Malcolm, the hand in his hair becoming tighter each passing second which tells him Gil is close.

The pump of his cock and his unrelenting tempo becomes too much for Malcolm to focus on more than one thing. His brows knit as he feels his orgasm sit in the pit of his stomach, putting him so close to coming that he gets off of Gil and onto all fours to ride it out. “Fuck!” he cries into the air. “Please, please come inside me. I’m so close–”

His head falls between his shoulders but Gil moves his disheveled hair from his face and tilts his chin up, smirking at the blissed-out face staring back at him. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It feels so good–god–please JT.” His thrusts are too fast for Malcolm to keep up with so he falls out of rhythm and lets his body be used like a toy only for their pleasure. Gil rests his hands on Malcolm’s shoulders as he’s rocked into his lap again, holding him steady and upright, enjoying the view of his mouth hanging open in a silent cry. 

In seconds, he’s spilling onto the sheets with a shout, clenching around JT so tight that JT finishes in one quick thrust, burying himself as deep as his body will let him. His fingernails carve deeper into his skin as his orgasm hits him in waves, leaving Malcolm spent and delirious in the hands of Gil who’s busy running a hand up his arm and pressing kisses into his hair.

When the high settles and his cock stops twitching, JT lessens his grip on his body and pulls out at an angle, leaving Malcolm to whine as he clenches around nothing. He slumps against Gil and rests his head in the crook of his neck and relaxes in the aroma of rich cologne.

“Bright, look at me.”

With a nudge from Gil, Malcolm picks his head up and looks over his shoulder to find JT staring at him like he’s trying to make a point of something.

“Not a drop, you hear me?”

It takes a second for him to register what JT’s saying and what exactly he’s referring to. Then it does and he starts scanning the bed for the one thing that’ll keep him full when he’s empty. “My plug,” he says, spotting the pretty glass just inches away.

Gil guides his hand back with his own, shaking his head. “Not so fast, Bright. We’re just getting started.”

JT chuckles and scoots back to give them enough room, loving the way his frown quickly disappears after he realizes this isn’t a one and done situation. Gil is the worst when he’s got his mind set on something and JT knows all too well what happens when someone is brave enough to intervene. “He’s all yours, boss.”

“Is he?” Gil cups his cheek with a sympathetic expression. “The poor thing’s already been used.”

Malcolm scoffs and swats his hand away; JT’s laugh gets caught in his fist. “Dude asked for it. What was I supposed to do?”

“What happened to sharing is caring?”

“You two are unbelievable.” Whether it’s JT’s honesty or Gil’s poor attempt at being upset, Malcolm just rolls his eyes while his partners snicker and banter from their side of the bed.

While they poke fun, he just lays down and enjoys their little back and forth until they catch him staring with the same smile they’ve grown to love. In this moment, it takes everything in Gil not to make sweet love to him. The little smirk Malcolm sends reminds him that he has one goal in mind and he’ll be damned if the lights go out before he gets what he wants.

He thinks back to all the times Malcolm and JT tell him that he needs to be selfish in life. When Malcolm moves away to lay on his stomach, his perfect ass just inches away, Gil remembers why he can’t wait for Malcolm to eat his words.

“Look at you,” Gil whistles low, taking in the sight of his lover sprawled out on the bed. Malcolm sends him a half-hearted glare that only seems to spur Gil on, because Gil starts to stroke his cock with the same haunting expression he wore when he first walked in the door in a silent display of power should he feel the need to use it. “Is this what you want?”

Malcolm nods, mesmerized.

“Come here, Bright.”

“Make me.”

As if he expected the response, Gil almost yanks Malcolm by his ankles and forces him on his back. “I don’t have time for these games, kid,” he huffs out.

Gil pushes his legs open and settles in between them, smirking as he purposefully moves the bottle of lube out the way. He doesn’t waste time on any prep and goes straight for his puffy hole, tracing his finger over the pink muscle taking to the digit as he slowly presses past his nail. One finger becomes two in an instant, then three fuck into his hole and Malcolm attempts to trap the noise coming from his mouth with his hand, his toes curling and eyes shut from his teasing touches. Then his fingers are gone as quick as they came and leave him far too empty.

His partners move in sync, Gil positioning himself between his legs and JT moving toward the edge to get a better view; both incredibly eager to watch Malcolm’s body get pushed past the breaking point.

Unceremoniously, Gil slides in like he’s meant to be there and swallows Malcolm’s moan with a heated kiss and buries himself to the hilt. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” He moans at the small sounds coming from Malcolm, brows knitted as he squirms for more. “You’re pathetic,” Gil chuckles, groaning when he hears a splash of his cock fuck through JT’s spend. “Is this what you want? To be fucked and filled like the cock slut you are?”

Malcolm whines as he fists the sheets, rolling his hips the second Gil stops completely just to look at him. “Yes,” he whines, “I need more.” 

“How about this?” Gil drops a hand from his hips and rests it on his neck instead, his pointer finger tapping his pulse before he clamps down on his throat, applying the right amount of pressure that Malcolm craves.

“Yes!” His legs fall apart even wider the second he feels Gil start to fuck his used hole like he earned it by being honest. “Use me,” he practically whimpers, “I need your cock so fucking bad.” 

“So needy,” he groans, pressing harder on his neck. “What else? Want my come, too? Think you can take it all?”

Even with Gil on his windpipe nothing can stop the obscene moan that falls from Malcolm’s lips and the sob that follows after. Gil is quick to snap his hips, practically knocking the fight out of Malcolm until he keens and goes completely boneless in his grasp, widening his legs as Gil fucks him with fervor. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” JT mumbles from the edge of the bed. His recovery almost feels short lived with how ready he is to get back in just to get a taste of him, though Gil seems to be making significant damage and his help would only add fuel to the scorching fire. JT chuckles at the thought. Malcolm knows better than to antagonize him.

Gil’s brutal pace has Malcolm arching off the bed to meet his frantic thrusts. Just like that, Malcolm loses his train of thought and rides the wave of pleasure coursing through his body like electricity, the rush of endorphins of being pummeled setting him ablaze and nearly stuns him to silence. Gil slows to adjust himself on his knees to bring Malcolm’s legs to his chest and the difference is undeniable; both men can’t help but moan at how deep he is, practically rejuvenating Gil as he sinks his cock in come again.

In his peripheral, Malcolm can feel JT’s eyes on him. Knowing that he’s being watched like this, fucked senseless into the sheets and rendered useless makes his mouth water. They lock eyes for a brief moment and Malcolm swears he sees a change in JT’s demeanor and body language–dilated pupils, elevated heart rate–the kind of change that feels imposing in the wrong circumstances.

A warning that this isn’t over yet.

“Good boy,” comes from above. “You want my come that bad? Such a pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

Malcolm tries to nod and hook his ankles around Gil but his pace is too erratic for him to get his thoughts together much less his body as he’s reduced to gasps and moans.

“Answer me,” he groans, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as his climax sits on the horizon. “I want to hear you say it.” 

The squeeze on his neck is so tight it almost makes him come right then and there. “Yes! Fuck!” he shouts, breath ragged as the creaks of the bed fill the loft and Gil’s cock rocks his body, fucking him into the sheets like he weighs nothing. “I’m a slut,” he cries, letting the words really sink in. “I’m a slut, I want your big fucking cock, right there, right there, fuck–”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filters in the air while JT watches his partner get torn apart while he idly strokes his own cock; the pure ecstasy written all over Malcolm’s face turns him on just as much as he likes seeing Gil staring him down with such intensity and aggression. “You’re so wet,” he groans, “so fucking wet for me.”

His moans turn into gasps, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” throwing his head back and arching off the bed as the tip of Gil’s cock rams into his prostate on every stroke.

Gil keeps his rigorous pace until the dam finally breaks and his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, grunting as he spills his hot load into a whining Malcolm. “Yes,” he moans, “more, I need more.” He’s finally able to hook his heels around Gil and he immediately pushes him as deep as he can go while he unloads in spurts.

While he waits for Gil to finish, Malcolm can feel himself getting full just from their come alone. He feels floaty and not all quite there but he’s present enough to feel Gil start to move backwards and whisper something under his breath. “Such a good boy.”

Once his orgasm subsides, Gil eases off of Malcolm's neck and pulls out, leaving Malcolm on his back with nothing but a raging hard on and an ass full of his partners’ come.

“I’m not through with you yet.” The bed dips and Gil is on his way to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of glasses and filing them up with water, leaving the room in comfortable silence.

“You’ll learn,” JT says, idly watching Gil in the kitchen.

“Mm?” Malcolm hums in question from the bed, eyes closed as he quietly basks in the feel of his partners and tries to catch his breath. The urge to touch himself itches like a bite he can’t scratch, and he’s sure if he tried to JT would stop him before he could.

“You know better than to get him worked up.”

“Who says I care?” he asks, his dopey smile challenging JT who just shakes his head and laughs to himself.

They both know Gil is quietly listening in from the kitchen and probably devising a plan to actually shut him up this time, which, in turn works out for Malcolm no matter what he decides to do.

Three glasses land on the nightstand. Gil offers one to JT who takes the glasses and kisses his partner as a thank you and sips while Malcolm attempts to sit up against the headboard. With the help of Gil he rests his head against the wood and takes the glass, thanking Gil with a kiss as well. 

While he sits in the comfortable silence, his hand idly rests on his throat, wondering what kind of marks Gil’s left on him. The little divots on his hips are a pretty shade of red thanks to JT, so he can only imagine what his skin looks like if he stood in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” JT says quietly, and Malcolm nearly misses it, but he smiles when it registers and leans over to kiss his partner. 

“Want to add to it?” he says over his lips.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Malcolm hums and nods, eyes lidded. He brings JT’s free hand to his neck and lets it rest there, thinking about the feel of his heavy hand crushing his windpipe right as he’s about to come. Just the thought of it makes his head spin and cock twitch.

A kiss to his temple, JT gets up to set his glass down on the nightstand and picks up the butt plug with one thing in mind. He sets it down then drops his hand between Malcolm’s legs, eyes locked on each other as he does, prodding his finger around his puffy hole but never presses in.

“Don’t tease me,” he huffs, resting his hand on JT’s wrist.

The bed dips as Gil takes Malcolm’s glass and sets it down before he settles on the other side of Malcolm and joins JT’s finger, grabbing his ass with his palm and presses his middle finger in. “God, you’re so wet. What do you think, JT?” JT hums in response but his gaze never leaves Malcolm’s eyes. “Think we can stretch him out?” 

“I think we can do more than that.” JT’s index joins Gil’s, bringing a new sensation Malcolm hasn't felt all night, and the mix of sliding fingers has his mind wandering to something else entirely. “I think this little come-dump can do so much better, right, Malcolm?”

The name has Malcolm moaning louder than they expect him too, bucking his hips forward to drive their fingers deeper.

Gil kisses the back of his neck, grinning. “Look at you. How about it?” Gil leans into his ear, the heat of his voice bringing goosebumps. “We take you just like this, stuff our cocks into your tight little hole and fuck you until you’re bursting with come. When we’re done, I’ll take that plug and shove it so deep you won’t waste a single drop. How does that sound?”

Their fingers push down past their knuckles at the same time and Malcolm nearly comes right in that moment. His legs immediately close to fend off his orgasm as if he isn’t being worked open, so both Gil and JT keep their movements steady now that they can read just how close he is.

JT leans into his ear next to Gil and whispers, “You really are pathetic, aren’t you?”

Gil’s hand lands in his hair, fingers tracing over his scalp until he grabs a chunk and yanks his head back. “Don’t act shy now,” he coos. “Weren’t you begging for my cock earlier?”

“Yes,” Malcolm huffs, eyes squeezed shut. “I want both of you inside of me.”

“Good job,” Gil praises, kissing him as a reward. “That’s exactly what I want to hear. Love,” Gil calls, and JT’s eyebrows raise in question. “Can you grab a couple of towels? The long ones, please.”

“Sure thing.” A quick kiss and JT is off the bed heading toward the bathroom. 

Impulse takes over and Malcolm practically throws himself at Gil, teeth barely missing teeth as they clash in hungry kisses and groans. Malcolm can tell how much Gil misses his partner in a single kiss, and as much as he wants to start right here and now, he will settle for a couple of minutes reassuring Gil he isn’t going anywhere.

Once they break away for air, Gil props himself up on his elbows and lays back against the headboard, hands at his side as Malcolm crawls over to his lap. He swings a leg over and remains standing on his knees; his fingers trail up his waist to his stomach and circle his nipples until he pinches down, moaning all while maintaining perfect eye contact.

Then he lets go of the tension so his knees slide so he drops down on Gil’s lap as slow as possible.

“That’s it, baby,” Gil coos. “Spread those legs for me.”

“Yes, sir,” falls from his lips as he straddles Gil’s lap and pulls Gil’s cock in between his cheeks, wondering what on earth is taking JT so long. Maybe he intends for Malcolm to wait and build some adrenaline so it’s an easier slide on them all, but the anticipation will break him faster than his partners ever will. Or maybe he’s just impatient. 

The need to bounce on Gil’s cock at this very moment might just swallow him whole. 

A light tap on his cheek reigns him in. “Hm?”

“Get your head out of the clouds, Bright,” he says, nodding in JT’s direction. “You’re not about to ruin this for my detective, now, are you?” 

The slip back into their roles from earlier is a pleasant buzz; though he’s fully paying attention, Gil can see the itch to toe the line and disobey him behind those cerulean irises. So he looks him square in the eye to make sure he understands there will be a price to pay if he tries it.

Malcolm shakes his head. “No, sir.”

“Good,” pipes up JT from behind them, standing on the edge with a bottle of lube and a couple of towels. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to go easy on you.”

“I don’t want you to,” Malcolm says, but his eyes are drawn to the rich, brown skin stretched with muscle underneath the bulky frame and a thick, meaty cock to match.

He tosses the lube and towels on the bed and leans down to kiss Gil slowly, almost too tender for the threats they’ve made in the last hour alone, but it’s one of Malcolm’s favorite things to see since it never leaves the loft. Gil is able to sneak in one last kiss before they pull apart and JT focuses his attention on the smaller man in Gil’s lap staring at him expectantly.

Without warning, JT grips the back of Malcolm’s hair and stands back up just so he can see his pliant body underneath him, quietly watching and waiting. “Just because I brought the lube doesn’t mean I plan on using it. You’re going to take every fucking inch we give you and the only words I want to hear out of your mouth is ‘thank you’ and ‘yes sir’. Got that?”

Malcolm practically whimpers. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good boy. Now...” Gil gently guides Malcolm’s body back to him so he’s facing the headboard again. “Keep those legs nice and wide for me. Eyes forward–I want to see your face when our cocks stretch you wide.”

JT kneels in between Gil’s legs and prods Malcolm’s hole frustratingly slow, his mouth hanging in a soft ‘oh’ from the two fingers sliding in and out, and in no time does he add a third. The way his brows crease and relax from the pull of his fingers has Gil rubbing his thigh in silent praise, unable to see what JT’s doing but Malcolm’s bucks against his fingers, riding him nice and slow until he abruptly pulls them out.

Gil grabs the base of his cock and taps it against his puckered hole. “You’re not getting out of this until we finish. Be a good boy and sit still for me. Show me how good it feels to be fucked with two cocks.”

He lines up his cock underneath JT’s and slides in one firm thrust, snug like it belongs there. JT is quick to cut off all the noise from the smaller man and grabs Malcolm by his hips and nudges the tip of his cock past the furled muscle. All three of them groan as the tip breach their wet mix of come and join Gil’s cock.

The pressure is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. The deeper they go, the louder he becomes as his voice reaches the ceiling in pure, unaltered bliss. Even with their come, the stretch borders on painful but he doesn’t ask them to stop–he can’t wait to feel all of this in the morning. 

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” JT hisses, thumb pressing against his backside as he carefully feeds him inch by inch. 

“You’re taking us so well,” Gil praises. “But I don’t reward sluts for doing their job.” 

His partners feel the sharp clench around their cocks and they both chuckle, JT resting a hand in his hair while Gil pries his lips open with his thumb and dives in for a sloppy kiss. Gil swallows his moan as their lips break and he nudges his shoulder, silently telling him to sit up to make room. He follows with the guidance of JT’s hand pulling him up from his scalp, whining in protest of losing his touch.

JT allows Gil to adjust his legs and Gil gives JT a nod once he’s comfortable, then they pull out to the tip just so they can slam his walls together.

The moment the pain abates to his perfect level of torture, Gil takes the reigns and snaps his hips, building his speed in short thrusts with JT right behind him with deep, hard strokes. “You’re so good when you listen,” Gil praises. “But you need to remember your place.”

“He’s right.” A sudden jerk from JT’s hips has his dick bumping his prostate, punching a sharp gasp from below. “You don’t run shit here–we do.”

“Yes, sir,” he moans into the air, arching his back the faster their cocks collide. “Fuck me. Ruin me. Punish me, I deserve it for what I did. I’m sorry,” he blabbers on, lost in the pleasure wracking his body, “take what you want from me.” 

JT immediately switches his hand from his hip to his stomach and leans back, dragging filthy moans from Malcolm as he fucks him in earnest. Malcolm’s head falls to Gil’s shoulder as he rides out the pressure between his legs splitting him wide, his cock bouncing up and down to their tempo–he can’t remember the last time sex felt so fucking good. It’s too much and not enough at the same time; he’s lost the ability to tell the difference between pain and pleasure, but he knows one thing is for certain: the pulse of their cocks is overwhelming and almost unbearable. 

In the middle of watching his cock disappear into his puffy hole, JT notices a slight tremor in Malcolm's frame and not from his hand.

Neither of them slow down as they eye the smaller body quietly trembling over them but their unspoken message of concern is just as loud. Malcolm is almost never quiet–much less in bed–and he hasn’t used their safeword yet, so they wordlessly agree continuing unless something alerts them to stop.

Just as Gil’s about to check on Malcolm, something wet lands on his shoulders.

“Are you…are you crying?”

Seconds pass before Malcolm makes any sudden movement. Then he lifts off of Gil’s shoulder and turns to face JT with the cutest pout he could ever make, and, as they suspected, his beautiful blues are filled to the brim with tears. 

JT’s initial disbelief turns into a roaring laugh bouncing off the walls, the only encouragement they need to drive his cock deeper. “You like this shit, don’t you?”

“Yes,” is all Malcolm says, turning around so Gil gets a good look at his face and buries his face in the crook of Gil’s neck. 

“My god, you are pathetic,” Gil chuckles.

Somehow the pressure intensifies like this, bent over both of his partners as they spear into his tight cavity like they’ll never get tired of it. The little sob that breaks free is gasoline; suddenly, JT sets a punishing pace with Gil not too far behind and Malcolm can’t help the desperate moans and pleas that break past Gil’s skin. 

The sudden drop in his stomach makes his mouth water, his orgasm right on the brink. His partners must feel it too because the room fills with groans as Malcolm clenches around them, bringing all three of them closer to the edge.

He picks his head up only to find Gil’s lustful expression staring back at him while his cock brushes against JT’s in a wonderful slide, and just as he fists the sheets, Gil repositions himself with better leverage and brushes along that sweet spot. They leave him keening the sharper their thrusts become, short and quick jerks ripping through his body.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Malcolm practically sobs, pleasure wracking his body in waves.

“That’s it,” Gil huffs, the same heat pooling in his stomach telling him he’s not going to last much longer. “Come for me. Let me see how pretty you are.” 

The way he commands him while the rest of his fight is being fucked out of him has Malcolm bracing a hand on Gil’s chest and the other on JT’s hand gripping his hips and rocking his hips to meet their thrusts. Seeing Malcolm push back on their cocks rewards him with a slap on the ass from JT and a quick jerk of his cock from Gil.

Neither partner breaks their pace until their ragged breathing corresponds with the slap of skin getting faster and rougher, both cocks stretching him past his limits and driving deep, their sweet melody of frictions builds to a crescendo so good his eyes water in a fresh wave of tears.

Malcolm throws his head back and cries out in ecstasy, unable to hold it any longer. “I can’t,” he sobs, “I’m gonna co–”

“No you’re not,” JT growls, and drops his hand from Malcolm’s hip, hauls his entire body upright, wraps a hand around his throat and squeezes . “Scream, pretty boy.” 

Malcolm’s mouth falls open in a silent cry until his mind finally catches up with his body and the filthiest moan Gil and JT have ever heard resounds as Malcolm clenches around their cocks and grips Gil’s wrist for dear life.

A sob wracks his body as he doubles over in pure ecstasy and an overpowering orgasm takes complete hold, spurts coating Gil’s chest while his vision blanks and the world blurs into nothing but a beautiful white paradise. Just as he loses himself in the moment, reality comes crashing down at the same time, and the pressure of two cocks grounds him so fast his orgasm keeps him coming and his body shaking.

Gil instantly loses his rhythm and comes seconds later, groaning as he pumps Malcolm full of his spend and drinks in the sight of his partner falling apart at the seams. The rush of his come creates a delicious slide for JT as he fucks to catch his release, pulling Malcolm closer to his chest so he has to ride out the rest of his orgasm on both of their cocks. 

“Fuck!” Malcolm shouts, every syllable punched out of him from the snap of JT’s hips. “Yesss, come inside me!”

His climax catches him by surprise. JT grunts as he stops balls deep and unloads hot, thick ropes coating his insides and Gil’s sensitive cock, both of his partners exhaling as they attempt to come down from their own explosive orgasms ripping through their bodies. 

Malcolm is practically boneless in Gil’s lap. He feels so fucking full his body stops quivering and accepts the fill like it’s meant to be, and it’s so good he can’t comprehend it all at once. Stuffed with two cocks and their hot loads of come makes his head spin in dizzying ecstasy, indescribably satisfied and completely content like he’s riding a high he can’t come down from.

Almost quietly, someone–he’s not sure who–whispers in his ear, “That’s a good boy,” as both of their cocks leave his body. “Taking all of our come and making you so big.” Just as their cocks leave him, something else nudges his hole to replace it, and as the tip pushes in, his body practically sings as he hears: “Is this what you wanted?" 

Then Malcolm quickly loses himself in a sea of overwhelming pleasure.

He blinks a few times waiting for his vision to clear, and when it does, he wakes to a cold, empty bed without his partners.

Once his vision clears and he can see the dark ceiling above him, he tries to push off the bed but stops the second he inches off the sheets. The soreness in his body keeps him from even attempting to sit up so he checks the rest of his body for any other irritations he should avoid.

He snakes his hand behind him and finds his plug there nestled firmly between his cheeks. Then he remembers how he got here, why his hips twinge in pain every time he attempts to get comfortable, and his very elaborate plan to sext his partners in hopes they’d be frustrated enough to mount him the second they were off the clock.

Malcolm realizes he underestimated his partners by a long shot.

“You’re awake,” breezes past him, and suddenly Gil is standing at his bedside in nothing but his sweats and a white mug in hand. “How do you feel?”

“Like I can’t move,” Malcolm rasps, his throat drier than the Sahara.

Gil takes a seat on the edge of the bed and lays his free hand on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Here, drink some water.” He offers the mug to which Malcolm takes several seconds to sit up, thanking Gil when he does, and sighs as the cold water hits the back of his throat. 

When he’s finished, he hands Gil back the mug. “You got me a shirt?”

“Well, we didn’t want you to get cold laying here,” he says, placing the mug on the nightstand. “Plus, you couldn’t put it on yourself so we had to do it for you.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, idly playing with the hem on his shirt. “Thank you.”

Without even thinking, Malcolm’s hand brushes over his stomach and gently presses down, wondering what he’d look like if he stood by a mirror. He hopes that if he did, it would show that his body is merely a cavity for his partners to enjoy.

Gil beams with pride. Malcolm thoroughly enjoys his reward, and nothing makes his heart sing like seeing his love happy. Maybe it’s the angle from where he sits or the low lighting in the loft, but Gil swears he spots the smallest of bulges underneath his palm and who knows, maybe his mind is playing tricks on him, but regardless of what his eyes see, Malcolm is stuffed like a turkey and it is, without a doubt, the hottest thing Gil’s ever seen.

Malcolm notes the obvious missing piece to his heart. “Where’s JT?”

As if on cue, JT steps out the bathroom in nothing but a towel and left over water droplets, and once he passes the threshold into the room he locks eyes with his partners who don’t seem to mind the show they’re getting.

“Oh, you’re up. Thought we lost you there for a sec.”

He frowns, wondering why they sound like he just passed out after sex. “How long was I out?”

“For about fifteen minutes or so,” JT says as he eyes the clock in the kitchen. “Enough time for a quick shower. We tried to get you to move but you were fine with just lying there so we didn’t want to bother you.”

He looks to Gil in hopes it’s an exaggeration, but Gil’s nod reaffirms his story and Malcolm’s face gets warmer and the tips of his ears get darker.

“Don’t overthink it,” JT comments as he pulls a pair of plaid pants from his part of their dresser. “It was cute seeing you like that. All fucked out, smiling. You literally begged us to fuck you again.” JT chuckles at the memory as he finishes drying off, Gil joining in on the laugh while his thumb still rubs circles on his thigh.

Malcolm groans as his spent cock twitches at that. As much as he’d love to go again, exhaustion is not too far behind.

Once JT gets dressed and puts the used mug on the marble island, he climbs into bed right next to Malcolm and allows him to adjust until he settles for being the small spoon just so he can feel JT’s arms wrap around him and pull him in closer.

After he shuts the lights off, Gil joins them underneath the covers and kisses them both before settling in on the other side of Malcolm. In a quiet admission, Gil rests a hand low on Malcolm’s stomach underneath his shirt and perks up when JT’s hand covers his own. 

The gentle reminder of their night has Malcolm sinking into the same haze that had his partners worried about him just minutes ago.

“You sure you’re okay?” Gil asks, idly running a hand through his hair 

If a kiss is any indication, Malcolm nods and pushes into JT’s chest as if can bury himself any deeper in the bigger man. “I promise I’m okay. If it was too much for me to handle, I would’ve said something. I just feel really, really good.”

Gil returns the kiss with a warm smile, quietly adoring Malcolm’s features in the moonlight. “Okay,” he says softly. They lay just like that, soaking in the bliss of each other as if time has stopped completely and they could lay there forever, frozen in this moment in time.

For extra reassurance, Malcolm chases Gil’s lips in a heated kiss, tender yet passionate, and when he pulls away, he hopes he was able to convey exactly what he’s feeling.

JT pushes off his elbow to meet Malcolm for a quick and chaste kiss, settling back down and playfully pulls Malcolm’s waist toward him so he can nestle his cock against his ass, kissing his neck as he squirms and reaches for Gil who just scoots closer and dips his hand from his stomach to the inside of his thighs, earning a surprised gasp at his betrayal.

“At this rate, we’ll never go to sleep,” Malcolm grumbles, clearly not upset as he sounds.

They fall into laughter and snuggle closer, both men stopping their attempts and properly settle in for the night. Their confessions aren’t lost in the dark, but illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows, warming their blankets until their eyes close and that pleasant ache sends Malcolm to bed before either of his partners.

For once in his life, Malcolm hopes there isn’t a case tomorrow.