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When on England camp, it’s a miracle, frankly, if Kieran ever gets a moment alone.
It really is like everyone has a master-key for his room. So much so that Kieran has come to expect to find at least one of the England lads sprawled out leisurely on his bed, or monopolising the use of his PS5, more often than not.
Today it seems to be Jordan Pickford’s turn; upon twisting the lock to his room Kieran is immediately greeted with the sight of the goalie stretching horizontally across his bed, tall enough so that both his feet and arms are dangling off the sides as he taps at his phone.
“Alright?”
Is all Kieran gets in gruff greeting as Jordan’s eyes flicker up to him for a just a second off of his phone screen before returning again. He then rolls over to lie on his back.
“Why’re you not in your room?”
Kieran counters as he chucks his training gear into his open suitcase to add to the piling mount he probably should’ve unpacked as soon as he arrived. He knows it’s not much use asking Jordan to leave, having learned that the hard way long ago.
“Lost my key, didn’t I.”
The other tells him dismissively, still engrossed in his phone screen, some kind of game, Kieran reckons, as he rolls his eyes and laughs.
“What, and you just happened to have the key for mine?”
Jordan looks up at him then, frowning at him like he’s said something stupid, “John gave it t’ me.”
Nodding as he kicks off his shoes, Kieran mutters out a “ ‘Course he did,” under his breath, alongside a long-suffering sigh, deciding not to even ask how Stonesy somehow acquired a key for his room.
“Shove over.”
He decides on instead, moving to sit up against the headboard of his bed, digging his feet into Jordan’s side until it earns him a deadly glare.
“I wanna watch Netflix or something, move.”
Eventually, Jordan shifts over, but when he does it’s with a deep sigh and Kieran almost has the right mind to remind him exactly who’s bed he’s hogging right now.
“John’ll be back here soon.”
Jordan adds after a moment’s silence of Kieran flicking through shows and quickly disregarding them, entirely uninspired to start watching anything new after he finished his last box set.
“Right,” Kieran just says because it was hardly a question, “What you playing?”
He’s craning his neck to see when he’s quickly supplied with the answer, Jordan mashing furiously at the buttons onscreen until he’s exclaiming loudly.
“Fuck, they’re having a laugh! I would’ve saved that one dead easy.”
Kieran takes the opportunity to roll his eyes again, “FIFA mobile? Don’t you get enough footie in training.”
The other man turns to him then, grin plastered on his face as he glances up at Kieran from against the sheets, his longish hair mussed for once and not gel-slicked.
“You let that one get past you,” Jordan informs him gleefully, chuckling as he turns his phone to show Kieran that, yes, he’s included him in his team, “Got to step up your game mate.”
Kieran simply shakes his head at him, opting not to get involved for once. Then there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s open.”
He calls out, well aware that he hadn’t bothered locking it behind him when he’d come in and first seen Jordan, knowing others would undoubtedly be soon to follow.
As promised, his next visitor is Stonesy, looking mightily pleased with himself as he strolls into Kieran’s room like it’s his own, chucking his jumper onto the armchair at the end of the bed before settling into it.
“He still on that silly game?” John asks as he nods over to where Jordan’s hunched over his phone again. Kieran makes a face as he pokes Jordan in the side.
“Of course it’s our fault he ain’t winning.”
Stonesy huffs out a chuckle then, an easy grin settling on his cheeks as always as Jordan swears under his breath and slams his phone down onto the sheets in frustration with mutters of something that sounds like stupid game and sick of it anyway.
“Heads up Jord.”
For the minimal time John gives him to react, Jordan does an astounding job of catching the ball John throws at him against his chest.
“Stole it from Dier.” Stonesy simply replies to two sets of eyebrows raising in his direction, as if that supplies any sort of explanation.
Kieran drags his gaze away in favour of plucking the ball from Jordan’s hands, a move which is accomplished all too easily before the goalie seems to cotton-on to what’s happened, leaning forward to reclaim it before Kieran jerks it out of his reach again.
It’s one of those smaller, softer balls that you might give a kid so they don’t knock anyone out booting it about, emblazoned with the England crest because what isn’t at St. George’s Park.
“Thought we could finish up that game of two-touch from training after Trips got dragged away to suck off the gaffer.”
“Oh fuck off,” Kieran coughs out, flipping off John for good measure as Jordan grins beside him, “He wanted to know how my knee was.”
Despite all their teasing, the three of them are soon picking up their game of two-touch as John had suggested; Kieran had been winning by two points anyway so he’s not too bothered.
Stonesy wasn’t too far behind him, of course, otherwise he never would’ve suggested resuming the game. It’s Jordan, really, who’s in trouble, and Kieran smirks to himself at the thought of getting back at the bastard who likes to treat his room as if it’s his own
Luck, however, does not seem to want to rest on his side.
“Wheyyyy.”
Jordan celebrates loudly as Kieran fucks up his first touch, bouncing the ball too far from him to even think about making a recovery.
“Strike for you Trips,” John notes smugly as he retrieves the ball, spinning it in his hands as he flicks his hair back into place, “Gotta be careful, we’re creeping up on you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Kieran sing-songs dismissively, refusing to believe he could throw such a good lead away.
So of course that’s exactly what happens.
It’s one fumble, and then the next, drawing him even with Jordan, and then Kieran’s convinced that the other two are plotting against him, always sending the ball back to him and never to each other until he’s forced into a mistake that hammers the last nail into his coffin.
“That’s short!” Jordan insists gleefully as the ball bounces at his feet, his grin flashing so wide Kieran thinks he can count all of the man’s teeth as he turns to John who’s nodding furiously in agreement.
“Come ‘ere.”
The two of them approach Kieran at the same time, closing in from the points of the triangle they’d created in the middle of the room, and suddenly Kieran feels very… small, as his two huge, six foot friends crowd in on him.
“Wait! Okay, wait.”
He placates, feeling all too much like the handler of two gigantic dogs as he has to shove at Jordan’s chest and grab onto John’s arm reaching towards him to fight them away.
“Wait.”
Kieran repeats again, some sort of sense of achievement and satisfaction washing over him as the two abide by his command, John only moving to settle his grip on his shoulder as he raises a hand to his ear, poised in flicking position.
“One at a time!”
He insists as Jordan lifts one of his hands to do the same, batting it away, yet this seems to do nothing to curb the goalkeeper’s enthusiasm, the grip Jordan has on Kieran’s shoulder only tightening.
“I’ll go first then.”
Stonesy declares, aligning his poised fingers once again as Jordan seems to decide on something entirely different, grabbing at both of Kieran’s arms to drag them behind him, “I’ll keep ‘im pinned.”
Kieran jerks out of his grip then, a rush of adrenaline jolting through him as he turns back to face him.
“Relax man,” Kieran scoffs out as he pushes a hand to Jordan’s chest again to hold him away, wary of the huge grin that’s still hooked into his cheeks, “Keep me pinned? Just do it.”
He squeezes Jordan’s bicep then, as hard as the other man had been squeezing his shoulder, in chastisement. It doesn’t seem to phase Jordan too much, who stands back to watch John have his turn.
Kieran grimaces as Stonesy gears up to it, making too much of a show, and then tells him that he’s made note of it when the flick reverberates right down his ear.
There’s not much time for him to recover, however, as Jordan is soon pulling at his arm to get him to face him.
“Which side d’you want it on?”
He asks, looking far too gleeful as Kieran points to his currently uninjured ear. Jordan’s look of concentration is almost comical as Kieran watches him deliver his flick.
“You hit me on the side of the head,” Kieran informs him after it’s done, rubbing at what he’s sure is going to be red skin, “Fuck, that hurt more than the last.”
“Aw,” John coos unapologetically as he grins, the dickhead, “Jord, kiss it better for him.”
Kieran rolls his eyes, turning around to grab the ball to insist on another game to salvage his pride, but that’s all it takes to allow Jordan to successfully pin his arms behind his back this time.
“Jord— fuck’s sake, what are you—“
He’s stuck facing forward, watching John, and notices as Jordan’s eyes meet the other’s over his head, confusing, yet partly intriguing him, as something seems to cross between them.
Then, before he knows it, Stonesy’s sinking to his knees in front of him.
“What—“ Kieran starts, and then has to stop again when the words curl up in his throat as the sight before him becomes more and more obscene, “What… are you doing.”
John grins up at him then. Still dizzyingly the same. Broad and easy.
“What does it look like you dafty? I’m gonna suck you off.”
Kieran’s pretty sure he’s seconds away from an aneurysm at this point. The strong and underlying grip Jordan has, holding his arms behind him, certainly isn’t helping either. His breath is warm against the back of Kieran’s neck.
“Why?”
He just about manages to struggle out; he’s sure his plain confusion is clear to see and that that’s what makes John’s grin widen.
“Because I want to. And because Jordan wants to see.”
It’s only then that Kieran first looks past John to the rest of the room, finding that - oh, Jesus Christ - they’re perfectly aligned with the full length mirror fixed to the wall.
Kieran can see himself there. See John at his feet for him, on his knees against the plush carpet. But above all he can see Jordan behind him. See how the goalie towers over him at near ridiculous height, head and shoulders above.
Jordan waits until he catches his gaze in the mirror, Kieran knows he does, before flexing his grip on his pinned arms as if in demonstration of what he’s done. Managed to do to him.
Stooping downwards, Jordan is quick to align his mouth with his right ear, his gaze never wavering in the reflection, and Kieran begins to have a very hard time remembering how to breathe.
“Yeah?”
Jordan asks gruffly and simply, which could mean ten million different things, but that doesn’t stop Kieran from automatically breathing out a ‘Yeah’ in return.
He’s not quite sure what he’s agreeing to, but all Kieran knows is that he wants more of this. Whatever it is.
Adrenaline’s thrumming through his veins once again as Jordan leans down to press a kiss to the spot he’d flicked earlier on the side of his head as John had suggested, grinning smugly to Kieran in the reflection when he’s left with nothing clever to quip back in return for once.
Kieran can’t help but stare down at John then, kind of losing his mind at the way he seems to be waiting for permission or something, just, kneeling patiently in front of him.
But it’s when Jordan places a kiss to the side of his head, and then another to his neck, that Kieran hisses out a ’fuck’ between his teeth, and apparently that’s all John needs to be given the green light.
The first touch of John’s tongue is delightful, and his mouth a welcome and enticing heat that envelops Kieran’s cock so maddeningly that he immediately never wants to be without it again.
Jordan’s grip on Kieran tightens each and every time he has to abruptly suck in a breath at John’s movements, dizzyingly reminding Kieran that he couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to now. The thought making his cock twitch.
The only thing he’s currently capable of is bucking forwards into John’s mouth, attempting to chase his pleasure every time John pulls off and away from him with a knowing, smug grin, his slow pumping fist on Kieran’s cock a poor replacement for that dexterous tongue.
John’s hands look ridiculously huge as he splays them out across Kieran’s thighs, bracing himself as he bobs his head up and down on his cock, gripping into the muscle there and humming appreciatively as he does so.
And just when Kieran thinks this couldn’t possibly get any more obscene, Jordan starts talking.
“You like Stonesy sucking on your cock, eh?”
He asks, his voice gruff and low against Kieran’s ear as he pins Kieran’s eyes to his own in the reflection staring back at them.
“Like him on his knees, having his way with ya whilst I hold you in place?”
Kieran fucking comes then.
He couldn’t take it a moment longer, swearing breathlessly as he’s coming down from his high, feeling John fucking swallowing around him as he finally breaks his eye contact with Jordan to glance down towards him. His cheeks flushed and red from exertion, a grin still printed on his cheeks.
Jordan lets him go suddenly then, and Kieran’s sure his legs would’ve given out altogether if it weren’t for the bed he manages to slump back onto; his feet are still tangled in the material of his shorts, and the waistband of his boxers is cutting into the flesh of his thighs.
Kieran still can’t quite believe that that just fucking happened.
He can see both of the other men perfectly now in front of him, and Kieran somehow manages to choke on his own breath when he notices the noticeable bulges in their shorts.
As he catches his breath and trails his gaze back upwards, Kieran knows exactly why they both have shit-eating grins on their faces.
Here, perched on the end of his bed, he’s at the perfect height.
Kieran feels almost like helpless prey as the two of them close in on him again, pursued from all angles, cornered.
Before John can even open his mouth to say anything, Kieran’s telling him to ’shut up, Stonesy’ as he reaches upwards to press a hand to both of their crotches through their shorts.
He revels in it as he feels them watching, an electrifying jolt springing down his spine when Jordan mutters out swears under his breath.
Kieran wants to stare up at them, but can’t bring himself to do it for long; the sight of them towering over him even more ridiculously than usual, as they stare back down at him with unbridled heat in their eyes, is too much for Kieran’s limp cock to bare, twitching suddenly back to life.
It doesn’t take long before he’s got a hand in both of their underwear and their own wandering hands are quick to tell Kieran exactly what they want, nudging slightly at the back of his head.
“Greedy fuckers.”
Is all he mutters out lowly because he’s soon taking Stonesy’s cock into his mouth, grinning to himself because he can feel Jordan’s impatience relayed in the way his fingers seep deeper into his hair.
“Fuck, Trips…”
Kieran doesn’t get to hear much more of whatever John was going to say because he’s soon cut off by his own gasp for breath. Kieran’s no expert at cock sucking by far, but he does his best to replicate what John had just done to him and apparently it seems to be working.
He curls his tongue lavishly across the head and sucks before he takes John’s cock in his mouth again, bracing himself against the other man’s hip so that he can move himself more steadily, John’s skin is warm under his touch.
“ ‘m still ‘ere y’know.”
Jordan grumbles after he decides he’s been neglected by them for far too long, this time curling his hand around the back of Kieran’s neck to attempt to guide him towards him. John laughs above him and Kieran enjoys glancing up to meet Jordan’s disgruntled gaze.
“Relax.” He tells him lowly before shifting ever so slightly towards him, and Kieran can’t keep the amused grin off of his face as visible excitement flashes onto Jordan’s features.
As he takes Jordan’s cock into his mouth and hands, Kieran can’t help himself in sizing the both of them up. They’re both bigger than his own, by far, and more girthy, but Kieran tries not to let that get to him. They are almost a half-foot taller than him after all.
Jordan’s cock is thick, and stretches Kieran’s lips around it more than John’s had, but Kieran thinks that Stonesy actually might win on length. Both are good, though. Kieran finds himself thinking much to his surprise. Both are good. Fucking hell.
He stays sucking at Jordan’s cock for a little while, giving him the same treatment he’d given John because he knows if he doesn’t Jordan’s stubborn side will undoubtedly make an appearance.
When he pulls back for air this time, Kieran reaches back over to tug John closer to him by the hip, both of their cocks now side by side where they stand angled in towards him, towering above him.
He glances up at them to catch John and Jordan sharing a look between them. A moment of oh fuck, Kieran thinks. Disbelief at what is about to happen.
He cuts off whatever Jordan opens his mouth to say by taking both of their cocks into his hands and pumping them steadily. Kieran licks at the head of John’s cock before he’s leaning to do the same to Jordan’s, alternating between the two of them, aiming to deal equal amounts of pleasure all while pumping them with his hands at their bases.
Both John and Jordan keep a hand either side of his head, guiding and encouraging him and urging him down deeper as they bite out curses in between.
“Fuck. Look at ya. Being good for us.”
Kieran would tell Jordan to fuck off if it wasn’t for the mouthful he has of his cock, so he settles for a half-crooked middle finger instead as he continues.
It’s a bit of a power trip, really, having two six foot giants looming over him yet completely at his mercy. Their pleasure in Kieran’s hands.
He enjoys watching John and Jordan as he sucks at the heads of their cocks together. Watching their stubbled jaws clench and eyes flutter shut every time Kieran dances his tongue over their sensitive slits.
There’s little to no warning when the two climax at practically the same time and a strange sense of accomplishment washes over Kieran as he watches the two men’s cocks spurt with come.
He feels John and Jordan’s grip slide from the back of his head, and is just opening his mouth to speak, when Kieran suddenly feels a wet and sticky substance land on his cheek.
Bastards. Kieran thinks without even having to look up to find John and Jordan holding their cocks so that their come would certainly land on his face.
A streak lands across his lips then, another onto his other cheek, and a last just catching his chin. He waits for both men to look him in the eye before quirking his eyebrows up at them, as if to ask, happy now?
“Good lad.” John tells him with a stellar grin before he’s patting him on the cheek, “You’ve got a little something here though…”
“Fuck off.”
Kieran tells him non-venomously as he bats his hand away, “Someone get me a tissue.”
“Didn’t know you had it in ya, Trips.”
Jordan comments as John disappears into the ensuite to grab some loo roll. How classy.
“Yeah. Well.” Kieran just says, snatching what John offers when he returns and wiping at his face the best he can.
“Didn’t know you enjoyed it so much either.”
Kieran’s about to snap a retort to Jordan until he sees what the goalie means. His cock, erect, and back at standing attention, from the—
“Want us to take care of that for ya?”
It’s only when Kieran nods in return that all three of them finally end up on the bed together and Kieran finds himself spread out in the middle of it, bracketed by the other two men kneeling over him from either side.
He scrunches his eyes shut when his cock is finally taken into someone’s hand again, creating delicious and electrifying pleasure that has Kieran arching off of the sheets already until a set of sturdy hands settle at his hips.
Kieran has to look down then, and finds Jordan’s palms pressed either side against the dip in his hips whilst John moves his hand at an excruciatingly slow pace on purpose, watching him with intrigue as he brushes his thumb over the head.
Soon, however, one of Jordan’s big hands reaches downwards to take John’s cock in his grasp, moving his hand up and down rhythmically as John tries to cover up the pausing of his own movements.
Kieran’s quick to give in to the urge that soon fuels him, sitting himself up between them so that he can grab Jordan’s cock in his fist, wanking him off at the same time, because it was just… lying there, against Jordan’s stomach. Red and leaking and engorged.
However, he’s so focused, determined to get Jordan to spill into his hand before anyone else does, that it takes a moment for Kieran to catch up with the pressed hums and wet noises from beside him.
He finally looks up and away from his own hand to find John and Jordan pressed together a head above him and they’re… kissing.
Kieran has no idea if they’ve done this before. Hell, if either of them had done any of it together before tonight. But if so, there’s surely no passion and heat lost there.
His gaze fixes to where John and Jordan’s mouths clash together, a clatter of teeth sometimes that sounds like it should hurt or at least cause the participants to pull away, yet only seems to add fuel to the fire burning deep within.
Jordan has a firm grip on John’s hair, tugging his head to the side to press in closer as the other continues to work on the other man’s cock, moving up and down and drawing guttural moans to John’s lips as he pushes against Jordan’s own.
Kieran thinks it’s the first time, he decides, if the way Jordan’s kissing like he wants to devour John whole is anything to go buy. It’s the kiss of a starved man.
“Fuck,” He pants out under his own breath as John tightens his grip, “So fucking—“
But he doesn’t give himself a chance to finish before he’s tugging Jordan towards him, suddenly realising that he wants to feel as consumed and as lost as John currently looks. He wants to feel swept off his feet and flung into the wind.
Jordan’s lips are just as bruising with his own, pressing in hard and fast before reeling backwards slightly to take a breath, making Kieran feel somewhat proud.
“John.”
He just says as he’s waiting, and that’s all it takes for Stonesy to lean down and also kiss the shit out of him, steadying Kieran’s cheek with one hand whilst pumping him with another.
“Fucking hell.”
Kieran murmurs as they take turns between them for a while as they stroke leisurely at each other’s cocks, and he watches patiently, again, as some sort of silent communication seems to pass between John and Jordan as they part. But this time, Kieran is pretty sure he knows what they want to do to him.
So he sucks in a breath and nods when Jordan fixes his gaze on him, staring down before drifting his fingers towards Kieran’s hole. His fingers are already wet with some sort of slick; Kieran was too preoccupied to have even noticed. He holds his breath as Jordan slips the first finger past his rim, stretching him and plunging deep inside.
John kisses him again.
At first, more softly, but the other soon works his way back up to kissing and biting at Kieran’s lips in his signature unforgiving fashion, stealing Kieran’s breath from his lungs.
And Kieran knows what it is, or rather, what it is intended to be. A distraction. But he can’t quite feel it’s feeble against the obscene stretch because Jordan’s fucking goalkeeper’s hands and fingers are so big.
It takes a moment, but soon Kieran finds himself worked up to two fingers pumping inside of him; a foreign sensation that’s causing his mind to go completely round the bend. Tugging, biting and moaning at John’s lips. But nothing compares to when Jordan finally presses up against his prostate.
“Nngh— ah! Ah, what the— what the fuck was—“
It’s like thousands of volts of electricity have just been shot down his spine, spindling across each and every nerve and synapse until the sensation has filled his entire body. He feels John’s smile against his cheek.
“Jordan‘s treating you good, Trips. Stretching out that tight little hole of yours for us to fuck. Gonna press up all inside you and send you shivering like you just did.”
“I call first dibs.”
When Kieran strains his neck to shoot Jordan a disapproving eyebrow, Jordan stops moving his fingers inside of him as if to prove a point, “What? ‘M the one doing all the work aren’t I.”
Kieran shakes his head as John captures his lips for another a kiss and murmurs out, “Fucking get on with it then.”
He can hear the smirk on Jordan’s face as he withdraws his fingers, “Impatient are we?”
Kieran desperately tries to deny him the satisfaction of proving his point by swallowing the whimper that almost escapes at the empty sensation that follows.
“You wish.” He bites out instead, although it’s a little more lacklustre than he would’ve liked, craning his neck upwards to watch Jordan lining himself up with his hole.
And if Kieran thought Jordan’s hands were abnormally large, don’t even get him started on the stretch of Jordan’s cock slipping inside of him.
The sensation leaves him gasping for breath and grasping at John’s arms where he’s still leaning over him.
“That good?” John asks him lowly as Jordan finally starts moving his hips, guiding his cock inside Kieran at an agonisingly slow pace. He’s smirking so Kieran thinks he already knows the answer to that.
He means to answer but it comes out more of a cut-off moan. He doesn’t want these smug bastards’ heads getting any bigger after this.
“You just gonna sit there Stonesy?”
Kieran manages finally as Jordan grips a hold of the flesh of his thighs either side, stretching his legs wider and higher, deepening the angle at which his cock bears down into him. Fuck.
His gasping moan that slips out seems to jolt John back into action from where he’d been busy staring between the two of them, as if undecided about which is more enticing to watch.
Very quickly, John’s got his hands running all over Kieran again; over his bare chest, grazing dizzyingly past his nipples, and back to to his face where he presses a thumb to Kieran’s lips before seemingly deciding something.
“Can I fuck your mouth?”
Kieran feels vindicated somehow as he nods his head, digging his fingers into the muscle of John’s biceps as hard as he can on purpose to draw him closer to him before he’s kissing him harshly again, swallowing John’s curses.
He licks around the head as John feeds him his cock, still pressed back against the bed as the other brackets his chest with his thighs, each touch of skin on skin terrifyingly electric. And he takes it well as John thrusts into his mouth, humming around his cock appreciatively as John cups the back of his head.
“You like that Trips, eh?” Comes Jordan’s voice from the end of the bed as he drives his cock inside of him with more force, “You like being stuffed at both ends by me and Stonesy?”
Jordan brushes up against his prostate then, drawing an involuntary moan from Kieran’s lips and subsequently providing him with the answer he was undoubtedly looking for, and it doesn’t take long before Jordan’s thrusts become relentless and he drives himself over the edge, spilling into him.
Kieran can’t help but make noise around John’s cock as he comes because the sensation of Jordan’s seed filling him up inside feels ridiculously obscene, as well as the gaping feeling of his hole as Jordan withdraws his cock. His own cock is still red and waiting, straining against his stomach.
He’s pretty much helpless now, overwhelmed with emotions he has no idea where to channel and so when John wraps his arms around him and shifts him in position, Kieran goes more than willingly.
“C’mere,” John mutters against his cheek as it presses against his own, “We’ve got you.”
Before Kieran can even register what’s going on, he feels John’s cock breaching him, lowering Kieran down onto him as he sits up against the headboard, Kieran’s thighs spread either side of him.
Loose enough already, it doesn’t take John long to build up a punishing pace that knocks the wind out of him every time John buries his cock inside of him, guiding his movements with the grip he has on his hips and Kieran can’t get over just how deep he can feel John inside of him.
Jordan presses up against his back, his firm chest scorching hot against Kieran’s bare skin as he helps John in lowering him onto his cock, roaming his hands freely across Kieran’s chest in the process and pressing his lips to that soft spot on his neck that makes him gasp and moan as he comes.
Winding his hands downwards, Jordan hooks his chin over Kieran’s shoulder as he works him over the edge with his hands until Kieran’s cock stops spurting feebly against John’s chest.
“Alright?” Jordan checks gruffly as he presses his lips against Kieran’s ear before licking over the shell, leaving it tingling, “Fucking class that.”
Kieran can’t help but huff out a laugh to himself at that, sharing a grin with John before he’s collapsing forward, exhausted, against his chest, “ M’good.”
He lets out an ‘oof’ when Jordan decides to do the same, sandwiching him between them with their warm bodies, John’s cock still buried inside him... and Kieran doesn’t think this is as off-putting as it’s supposed to be to him.
He thinks too hard to himself for just a second, then takes a breath and shuts his eyes.
…maybe never having a moment alone to himself at camp is just fine.