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When Jon follows Peter into the honeymoon suite Elias is already there, examining the full-sized bar with an expression of mild interest. It's an appalling room; appallingly large, appallingly expensive, and appallingly decorated. Fortunately Jon hasn't had to see much of it as their hotel also has a library and he's been left blessedly alone to explore it at his leisure. Honestly, since the wedding he hasn't seen much of Peter at all. Which is apparently about to change.
Elias looks up at them with only a little more interest than he had been offering the liquor selection, but fortunately doesn't make any snide comments about the happy couple. He isn't wearing a tie, which gives Jon a fluttering feeling in his chest. It seems shockingly casual.
"There you are," he says, as though they'd been keeping him waiting. He looks over them both assessingly, and the fluttering feeling intensifies. "Thank you again for the invitation."
It had been more than an invitation; it had been two hours of the most god damned embarrassing conversation Jon had ever been forced to take part in, though fortunately Elias had, for the most part, accepted his responses without demanding explanations. Jon didn't think he could justify this to himself, never mind to anyone else, except to attribute it to his own inconsolable curiosity. Or, possibly, that of their patron, as Elias would say, and the smirk he gives Jon implies it all over again.
"Are you really going to be like this about it?" Jon grumbles. He would very much like to make himself a drink, but Elias is standing in the way, and Jon can't quite bring himself to push past him.
Peter plops himself down on the end of the bed and grins. "Absolutely he is," he says, "he doesn't know any other way." He sounds downright fond.
"Manners are never inappropriate," Elias says, amused, but he takes a step forward into Jon's personal space without asking anyway. "But I can understand if you might be more comfortable with a more direct approach." He cups one hand around the back of Jon's skull, ruffling his fingers in short-cropped hair, and pulls him in slowly for a kiss.
It's much too chaste for the situation, is all Jon can think once Elias lets him go. Jon licks his lips without thinking, and Elias's eyes track the movement, lingering on Jon's mouth before he steps away, leaving Jon feeling oddly berift.
"Well?" Peter says. "If it's the direct approach you prefer, why don't you go ahead and get undressed and we can get on with it." He leans back with his hands braced on the bed behind him, legs spread obscenely wide. He won't stop looking at Jon.
And neither will Elias, and it's the faint worry lines on his forehead that have Jon stripping out of his expensive new suit before Elias can say anything - he thinks that if he has to listen to concern at this point he will actually lose his composure. He pauses when he's down to his boxers, looking at Peter with his chin raised to simulate a confidence he doesn't actually feel. He cannot bring himself to look at Elias just now.
Jon expects a lecherous demand to finish the job, but Peter just sits up and crooks a finger. Jon considers his options - few, at this stage - and goes to him.
It's hardly their first kiss, but standing there so nearly naked and with Elias's eyes on him Jon feels stripped raw even before Peter curls his hands around Jon's shoulders and then runs them slowly down his back. Jon bites at Peter's tongue to stifle the noise that wants to find its way out of his throat, and Peter makes a pleased noise and nips back. His hands slide into Jon's boxers to cup his arse, pulling him closer. He can feel the hot line of Peter's erection against his hip, and he tells himself that the shudder that runs through him is trepidation.
"Is it really necessary for you to feel me up," Jon protests when Peter finally leaves his mouth to bite a kiss into the side of his neck.
Peter chuckles into his skin. "I intend to do a great deal more than that, Jonathan," he says, emphasizing his point with a firm squeeze. "You've picked a fine time to start protesting."
"It's a bad habit he has," Elias agrees. "Terrible timing. I've done what I can but - well."
Jon looks sharply up at him. Despite his tone, as nonchalant as ever, Elias's eyes are bright, his breathing quick. Jon is fairly certain that he ought to be at an advantage here, but it doesn't feel like it.
Peter squeezes his arse again, drawing Jon's attention back where he wants it before sliding his hands down, dragging Jon's boxers with them and leaving him standing naked between Peter's spread legs. He's half hard just from this, nerves and irritation and their combined attention on him all mixing together under his skin and leaving him flushed with sensation. He's steadying himself with his hands on Peter's shoulders, Jon realizes. He can't remember when he did that.
"Hmm." Peter says, reaching down and giving his cock a firm squeeze. "Very nice. You've been holding out on me."
"I fail to see how this is holding out," Jon grumbles, but he can't stop his hips from bucking forward into Peter's grasp. Peter, damn him, just lets his arm follow the motion, giving him no friction at all.
Jon knows a moment before it happens, so he doesn't jump when Elias puts his hands on his shoulders, stepping in close to hem him in between Peter's thighs. The crisp cotton of his shirt brushes against Jon's back as Elias lets his hands wander, down Jon's arms and around his waist, stroking his belly and moving down to nudge Peter out of the way. When he wraps a hand around Jon's cock he presses a kiss, chaste and tender, to Jon's shoulder, and he's not as shocked as he should be to find himself shaking from the tenderness as much as from Elias's intimate grasp.
"Stealing my new husband from me already, Elias?" Peter, hands freed, is taking the opportunity to divest himself of his own clothes, and Jon can't help but watch. His chest is broad, hairy and thickly muscled, dotted here and there with tattoos in a pale blue ink. He's attractive, Jon supposes, in an extraordinarily masculine way that he's always found a little suspicious.
Elias is paying him no mind, although of course he doesn't need to look at Peter to see. "It seems only fair," he answers, dropping a kiss on the place where Jon's neck meets his shoulder, then sinking his teeth lightly into the same spot. Jon bites his tongue but that doesn't stifle the embarrassingly high-pitched noise that escapes his throat, and he can feel Elias's smug smile. "You stole my Archivist first, after all."
Jon would very much like to protest that he had some input into these decisions, but Elias chooses that moment to wrap his hand around the head of Jon's cock, slicking it with the fluid leaking there, and then slowly slides his fist back down the length of him. He slumps back a bit into Elias's chest and doesn't even try to cover his shuddering moan. Elias finds another sensitive spot on his neck and starts to suck in a bruise.
"Beautifully responsive, isn't he?" Peter murmurs.
"And he takes direction well," Elias agrees. "Though he does have a tendency to complain." His hand on Jon's dick is maddeningly slow.
He knows it's playing right into that last comment, but it's intolerable to be talked about as if he isn't here while Elias winds his body up like a spring and Peter watches. "I'm right here, you know," Jon snaps, his voice too unsteady to be properly annoyed. "You could at least pretend I'm here as a person and not a – a sex toy."
"Why Jonathan, I didn't know you cared." Peter spots Jon looking at him again and he winks broadly and finishes wriggling out of his underwear. He's only half hard and he's – well, he's huge. Much like the rest of the man, Jon supposes, but it's still...more than he'd anticipated.
It must show on his face because Peter looks almost as smug as Elias as he takes himself in hand and works himself steadily to full hardness. "You might stop teasing the poor thing and get on with it, Elias," he says. Then, a clear concession, he looks Jon in the eye and smiles lazily. "I'd very much like to get you on my cock tonight, but I think we've got a lot of work to do to get there."
Elias smiles into Jon's neck, and Jon finds he can identify the exact expression by feel. He's not at all sure how he feels about that. "Oh, that won't be a problem," Elias says, low and amused. "Will it, Jon?" His other hand slips from Jon's hip to cradle his balls, then back to press dry fingertips gently against his hole. Under the circumstances, Jon doesn't think it unreasonable that it takes him a second to parse the comment.
If he had any blood to spare not already occupied, he'd have blushed at the revelation. "Do you have no respect for privacy?" he snaps. Peter's eyebrows go up, and Elias bites into Jon's shoulder again, interrupting his irritation with another low moan.
"Not where you're concerned, Jon," Elias says, and the fondness in his voice makes it almost sweet. He laves the bite mark gently with his tongue, his hands still working Jon steadily in a truly frustrating display of coordination. "Well?" he suggests after a moment. "If you'd like us not to talk over you, perhaps you'd like to tell Peter what you're complaining about this time."
Jon fights for anything like composure, but it's far too late for that; the humiliation of knowing he's been stripped bare and seen so thoroughly, not only now but in the past, only feeds his arousal. He's vaguely aware that he's beginning to slump back against Elias, who bears up his weight with no effort at all. "I, ah." He licks his lips, closes his eyes for a moment, but he can't bear to know how Peter is watching him and not look back. Elias hums his approval. "I have some. Experience. With – with penetration."
Elias chuckles softly against his skin, and the intimacy of his amusement makes Jon's stomach flip disconcertingly.
Peter is looking hungrier and more intrigued by the minute. "Is that so. And here I thought you'd just been telling me you weren't interested in that sort of thing."
"There's a difference between attraction to a person and – and desires," Jon says, indignance steadying him in spite of Elias's all-consuming touch and the way Peter reaches out to lay big hands on his hips, tugging him closer. The feel of the hair of his thighs against Jon's skin makes him shiver.
"Desires," Peter says lasciviously, rolling the word around on his tongue. "Full of surprises as ever, Jonathan. Tell me, did you know Elias was watching you fuck yourself silly with anything you had to hand?"
Elias's hips buck forward against Jon's arse, the first sign he's given that he's affected by any of this, but Jon can feel his cock hot and hard against him for a moment. If he weren't so close, Jon would never have heard the hitch in his breath.
"Hardly – anything," he protests over the catch in his own throat. He badly wants, he realizes, to see what else might fray the edges of Elias's control, what might blur the distant amusement in Peter's eyes.
It isn't this, at least; Peter is stroking his hips and thighs gently, as if he were calming a startled horse. It would be infuriatingly condescending if it wasn't helping. "Of course not," he says soothingly. "I'm sure you do things properly and thoroughly researched. But these things always take a bit of trial and error. How many tries did it take you to find something that filled you up the way you needed?"
Jon swallows his next breath, drowning for a moment in sensation, both of their hands on him and their relentless questions about things he would never have dreamed of saying aloud. If this is anything like what the compulsion feels like, he doesn't wonder at Elias's reaction to it.
But he must be taking too long to answer, because Elias pinches his sack, making Jon gasp and spasm in his arms. He scrambles to remember the question. "Th-three."
"Lovely," Peter says, genuinely appreciative. Meanwhile, Elias gives his cock a fond squeeze and removes his hand, withdrawing half a step. Jon whines at the loss as Elias slides his hands around to Jon's back and gives him a gentle shove.
"Why don't you let Peter see just how lovely you look working yourself open?"
Jon nods shakily and Peter steers him onto the bed with hands still on his hips. It's a relief to fall back onto the plush linens and stop trying to force his knees to hold him up. He's fairly sure he's never waited this long to come in his life.
Peter pushes something into his hand – lube. Jon fumbles it open, pours what's probably too much into his hand, then remembers Peter lazily stroking his cock and decides there's no such thing as too much under the circumstances. He sinks two fingers in deep and moans in relief. He doesn't need to touch his cock to come like this so he's careful, stretching himself open while avoiding any direct stimulation where he wants it the most. When he's sure he has a sustainable rhythm he opens his eyes again.
Elias has gotten his shirt off and his trousers undone, and Peter has stood up off the bed to kiss him, one hand gentle on his face and the other down his pants groping his arse. They look thoroughly wrapped up in each other, and Jon doesn't have time to decide whether it's jealousy or just irritation at being ignored before Peter removes his tongue from Elias's throat and says cheekily, "Regretting your decision yet?"
Elias's gaze goes back to the bed where Jon is sprawled, one knee up and two fingers buried inside. "Hardly," he murmurs, meeting Jon's eyes, and Jon thinks the resulting flush of heat might actually be enough to kill him. It's this thing – the Beholding – whatever Elias has offered him up to like a sacrifice, it must be, never before has the thought of anyone's eyes on him like this been anything but mortifying. Without breaking their gaze he adds a third finger, and Elias licks his lips.
Peter seems less pleased. He hums a skeptical noise and sinks easily to his knees, dragging the last of Elias's clothing with him, and leans forward to swallow Elias's cock in one smooth motion. Elias sucks in a breath through his teeth and steadies himself with a fist clenched tight in Peter's hair, but he's still looking at Jon, his gaze roving hungrily from his eyes down his chest to his cock flushed and leaking against his belly and his fingers – four of them now, not thrusting so much as pressing and stretching – opening his body for them. "There are things you must experience for yourself," Elias had told him once, and whatever part of Jon is still thinking critically about any of this grasps for the comfort that he can blame the monstrous thing he's promised to for the way his blood boils in his veins when Elias looks at him and he can't stop thinking about Peter's hand rough on his cock.
When Elias starts gasping for breath and shifting his hips minutely into Peter's face, Peter pulls off him with an obscene pop and grins up at him. The fond, frustrated look Elias gives him as he pulls Peter's hair and strokes his cheek says more about their relationship than anything else Jon has seen, and for a moment he feels like the intruder in their intimacy.
But Elias's eyes are on him again which makes it hard to think about anything else, except for the way Elias has apparently watched him do this before – lord knows how many times. He walks over to the bed and Jon can't believe he's never paid any attention before to the way that he moves, because it's enthralling. Elias settles on the bed at his feet, and he hesitates for just a moment before wrapping his fingers around Jon's ankles, then sliding his palms up to his inner thighs and pressing them apart and down, spreading him even wider, the stretch aching through his muscles making him gasp. One of those small, predatory smiles creeps across Elias's lips.
And then he proceeds to do absolutely nothing, just leans there with his hands braced on Jon's thighs, so close Jon can feel the way it disturbs the air around him when he breathes. He hovers there and he watches. Jon's breath catches in his throat and Elias smirks. He's sure there's a reason that he shouldn't let on how much this is affecting him but he can't stop the noises coming from the back of his throat.
"That's enough of that," Peter says, and Elias huffs out a breath in surprise as Peter grabs him around the waist and tosses him aside. He takes Elias's place without any of his restraint, planting one knee between Jon's thighs and and leaning down into him, not the full weight of his body but enough of it to feel, a heavy, soothing pressure. Jon extricates his hand from between his legs with a scowl and Peter grins and kisses him, exactly the way he always does when Jon scowls at him, except now the bulk of his body is between Jon's legs and his cock is hard and hot against Jon's belly as Peter ruts against him.
"Lovely," Peter murmurs appreciatively, "and I appreciate the insight, Elias, I do, but this isn't quite what I had in mind."
He manhandles Jon with as much ease as he did Elias, scooping him up as he shifts position and settles back down with his back against the headboard, still spreading Jon's knees apart but with Jon now perched on his thighs, trying to pretend he's not breathless. That smirk looks filthier on Peter's face, even if it's clear where he learned it from.
"A little warning next time," Jon says, and behind him Elias laughs.The man is close behind him again, one hand steady on Jon's back, the other lightly petting at Peter's leg.
"You'll ruin all my fun between the two of you. Come on then," Peter says, "if you're so experienced." He grabs Jon's arse again and gives it a good squeeze before pulling his cheeks apart and grinding his cock up against Jon's hole, slick with lube. It feels – very good, and Jon closes his eyes and rocks into it for a moment. He can't even be too annoyed at Peter's smug look when he opens them again.
"Don't get your expectations up," he mutters, raising himself up on his knees to try to find the right position. Peter holds him up without any visible effort, hands hot on Jon's hips, and the giddiness that swoops through his stomach in response is enough to distract him from being nervous for a moment. He sinks down just a little too fast, gasping and clutching at Peter's shoulders.
"Careful," Peter says, smug as anything.
Jon makes a little punched-out noise, as close as he can get to his usual exasperated huff. "Yes, you're very impressive," he drawls. "Honestly more of an inconvenience than anything," he adds, half to himself, half to feel Elias grin against his shoulder again.
Peter squeezes firmly at his thighs and says, "I don't hear you complaining."
"That is in fact exactly what I'm doing." Elias laughs at the dry note in Jon's voice, and Peter gives them both a slightly hurt look.
"Well if you're going to be like that," he says, and gives a thrust of his hips that has Jon swearing and grasping for balance. Elias wraps an arm around his waist, holding him steady, and Jon can feel the hot, rigid length of him pressed up against his back. It's dizzying, being wanted this much, and he can almost believe that it's just that and not the fact that it's Elias grinding impatiently against him that leaves him breathless.
They give him no reprieve, Elias tugging firmly on his hips while Peter works his cock in deeper with sharp little thrusts that punch unerringly at just the right spot. The suddenness of it takes him by surprise, and Jon barely has time to gasp out, "God, I–" before he's coming onto Peter's chest and stomach.
When he comes back to himself he's fully seated on Peter's cock, feeling wholly split open and more full than he can ever remember. "Fuck," he says with feeling, forehead braced on Peter's shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.
"Beautifully done," Peter says fondly, stroking Jon's arms in a gesture that's probably meant to be soothing but is instead sending confused sparks through his nervous system. He wants to straighten up but he's so sensitive right now he's afraid that if Peter moves inside of him he's going to scream.
Jon whines helplessly when Elias nips at his earlobe. "Lovely," he murmurs, his breath hot on Jon's neck. "My perfect Archivist." He's trailing his fingers through the mess on Peter's belly; it's all Jon can see from the angle he's resting at, and Jon has really always found the mess of it the most offputting part of sex but the sight of his come on Elias's long, elegant fingers is somehow dizzyingly erotic. He feels as though he should want to shut his eyes, but he doesn't, and Elias purrs soft praise into his ear.
It's distracting enough that Jon doesn't wonder what he's doing with his hands until he feels the gentle, insistent pressure where he's stretched wide around Peter, and even then his brain skitters over the thought before he can process it correctly. "What are you–"
"It's a poor time to play at ignorance now, Jonathan," Peter says cheerfully, and Jon does push himself upright then to glare at him. The effect is ruined by the way Elias uses the opportunity to slip a finger inside him, and Jon tilts his head back so he doesn't have to watch Peter's smug face and gasps for a breath he can't seem to find.
The stretch is unbearable, too much and incredibly good. Jon would very much like to object to the way his husband and his – the way they've both taken control of his body without the slightest bit of consideration, but the only sound he can manage is a soft, breathless moan as Elias works in another finger. He's sure he can't take it until all the sudden he has, and Elias crooks his fingers just so and Jon sobs.
Peter growls something low and unintelligible, the first hint of a reaction other than his usual detached cheerfulness, but Jon doesn't manage to process it before Peter's hips jerk once, twice, coring into him and leaving Jon feeling helpless and used. Peter comes inside of him with a groan, so deep Jon could swear he could taste it, and then slumps back against the headboard, his arms around Jon's shoulders pulling him down onto him. In spite of the sticky mess between them, it's surprisingly comfortable.
"Impatient," Elias tuts, extracting his hand and shaking out his wrist. He sounds genuinely annoyed, which Jon can't help but find rather delightful, not least because he isn't so ignorant that he doesn't know what Elias was working up to and he really doesn't think he could manage it.
"You'll just have to try again sometime," Peter says sleepily.
Elias huffs in irritation, and the sheer mundanity of it, of ordinary human jealousy, sends a wave of affection through him that Jon genuinely didn't know he bore for the man. He makes a decision on impulse, wriggling free of Peter's loose grasp and pushing himself back up to his knees. Peter's softening cock slips free, and the slick he can feel leaking from him would be humiliating if Jon weren't already focused on something else. "Give me a hand," he says, more a demand than a request, and Elias looks surprised but steadies him as he climbs off Peter's broad thighs and back onto the bed.
Elias is sat back on his heels, chewing at his lip and giving Jon an unintelligible look. He's still hard, painfully so, it would seem, but he doesn't move, the twitching of his fingers in the sheets the only sign betraying any impatience. "Ambitious," Peter says from behind him, but Jon ignores him, assessing the situation.
"Stay there," he says finally, and he catches the edge of a look of real surprise on Elias's face before he settles down on the bed, forearms braced on Elias's thighs, and licks at the head of Elias's cock.
He really doesn't have the strength to hold himself up at the moment, but in this position he doesn't have to, and gravity and his own lassitude do half the work for him as he lets his head drop to take Elias deeper into his mouth. Elias tangles his hands in Jon's hair, gripping tightly but not pushing. He still hasn't made a sound, and some perverse thing in Jon is determined not to be the only one utterly undone by all of this.
Jon shifts up into a better position and the texture of smooth, expensive sheets is delicious on his cock, and the hum of pleasure he gives makes Elias tense under his hands. Promising. He hums again, more deliberately, and Elias catches his breath; and then all at once Jon's gag reflex catches up to the proceedings and he's able to push himself down and take his cock into his throat.
The noise Elias makes is wonderful, a low keening sound that settles pleasingly into Jon's bones. He swallows deliberately, just to hear it again, and Elias complies. Peter chuckles. "Quick study, this one. Didn't take him long to have you all figured out."
"Shut up, Peter," Elias snaps, but he doesn't have the breath to put any venom in it.
He doesn't last long, which is frankly a relief; Jon's exhaustion is catching up with him and his jaw is aching from the unaccustomed stretch. He shifts his hips against the bed as he sucks determinedly on Elias's cock, and he comes again just a moment before Elias does, crying out and pulling so hard at Jon's hair that it brings tears to his eyes.
Jon feels a disgusting mess, sticky and sore and with the taste of Elias's come on the back of his tongue, but he doesn't have the wherewithal to do anything about it. He considers trying to find a blanket, but gives up on that idea just as quickly, instead struggling up to tuck himself against Peter's warm bulk. Elias is draped over his other side, head resting on Peter's chest, his eyes barely open but watching Jon intently. Inexplicably, Jon feels himself start to blush.
"I think that went rather well," Peter says, for all the world like he's discussing a particularly contentious business meeting.
Jon shoves his face into Peter's arm with a muffled groan. "Do we have to talk about it now?" he grates out, his voice rough with hard use, and he feels rather than sees Elias's gaze on him sharpen for a moment.
"We do not," Elias says, prodding at Peter like he's punching a pillow into shape. "We all acknowledge your brilliant coordination, now will you please let it rest."
"Ungrateful," Peter says, but he sounds unbearably fond. He nuzzles a kiss into Elias's hair, probably because he doesn't think Jon is looking, and Jon can feel the same pressed to the top of his head before he drifts off to sleep.