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Roman is a thespian, everything he does plays out as if it was a performance; a frivolous display of embellishment and vanity weaved with talent and prowess. His words are poetic and melodious and every step he takes holds poise and grace. Anybody who knows him would agree that Roman demanded and commanded attention whenever he entered the room, eyes drawn to him.
And yet, Logan was the least likely of their little flock to indulge such ostentatious behaviour even when he found himself drawn into Roman’s orbit, circling him as if he was a satellite built to observe and report Roman’s every move. It’s just Roman, he told himself, he needed eyes on him whether it was the others watching him out in the open or behind the confines of closed doors. It’s how he came upon his conclusion, his hypothesis—so to speak.
Roman was an exhibitionist; it was just his nature and who was Logan if he didn’t set out to prove his hypothesis true?
That’s what led them to this, Logan pressing kisses to scarred knuckles as he led the prince to the mind palace theatre. If his studies in the psychological field were to be believed, certain types of people thrived under positive reinforcement and Logan intended to put such studies to use and reward Roman’s good behaviour as of late.
The two barely made it into the theatre, chaste kisses on the back of knuckles became hands tangling in hair, groping at flesh through the fabric and low growls between deep kisses with tongue. Logan figured they looked like animals—an adequate comparison—as they stumbled inside and yet, he managed to resist the urge to take Roman there and then as they came into the theatre aisles. Roman looked up as the lights turned on, the curtains rising on their own where a single stool was revealed to sit in the middle of the stage.
“What’s this about, Lo?” Roman separated from Logan, his curiosity piqued. “Is this your doing?”
Logan let Roman wander off to investigate, circling the stool as if it was a trap of sorts. It was amusing to watch, forcing Logan to stifle his laughter and mask it with a cough before making his way to his partner, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around his middle and press a chaste kiss to the nape of his neck.
“I have arranged a surprise for you,” Logan explained, loosening his embrace so Roman could turn around in his arms to capture him in a kiss. “I’m positive you’ll enjoy it but for now, it is just us two.”
Roman kissed him again with a smile, caressing his cheeks as he cupped Logan’s face in both hands. Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist, melting into the kiss with practised ease. In the tender moments they shared, ones like this, Logan felt like clay being sculpted by a master artisan of his craft and right now, he was moulded to Roman’s body, warmth and arousal—at the deepening kiss, at the knowledge of what was to come—spread through him. He let his hands trail down toned arms covered by the white tunic the prince wore and rested on his hips, pulling him in closer. Roman’s fingers ran through his dark brown locks, eliciting a groan from Logan when the prince pulled on his hair.
Teeth clashed as they pressed into one another, fighting for dominance, and Logan wouldn’t be losing this fight if he wanted everything to go to plan. He pulled Roman forward, breaking away from the kiss when the back of his legs hit the stool and jostled it before sitting down. He chuckled when Roman let out a whine, pouting with those red lips of his.
Roman peered down at him, running his fingers through Logan’s hair with tender, slow movements and his head cocking to the side, “Can I guess my surprise then?”
“You won’t need to,” Logan pulled Roman closer by the hips, peering up at him through his eyelashes before letting his hands trail up the front of his trousers, ghosting over his thighs and cupping his crotch with his hand. He could feel Roman’s cock twitch, rousing with interest under the gentle caress of his hand. “How about you be a good boy and undress for me, dear?”
Roman’s breath hitched in the back of his throat at Logan’s domineering tone, at the request and there was a hesitation that Logan knew best as Roman debating whether or not he wanted to take control—to push Logan from the stool and pin him to the polished wood of the stage, to stain it white—but there was no room for push or shove in Logan’s gaze, dark blue eyes piercing through him like an arrow. He was quick to reach for his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he pulled off each layer while Logan sat back and watched.
And watched, he did as he appreciated Roman’s frame; he wasn’t a poetic man by any means but if there was an apt comparison or study of his partner’s beauty, it would be Michelangelo’s David. From a distance, it was sculpted for perfection but up close, the statue itself was disproportionate and flawed. Roman, too, was perfect from afar and yet up close, one could see his flaws—they only served to accentuate his beauty, however.
They locked eyes when Roman looked over his shoulder, making a show of good faith by picking up each piece of clothing to fold and set it aside. It was a performance though, one where Roman was showing himself off to Logan in hopes of enticing him, attempting to break him. Logan knew this well enough, retaining his control and composure as he kept his eyes trained on Roman, watching the man shiver at the thought of somebody drinking him in.
“Come here,” Logan commanded as soon as Roman was bare, “On your knees.”
Roman gave him a coy smile as he approached, circling him as if he was sizing up prey that he would swallow down. He let hands trail over Logan’s shoulders, catching the blue tie as he came around in front of him and playing with the soft silk between his fingers before sinking down onto his knees, letting the fabric fall from his grasp. He rested his hands on Logan’s ankles, running them up the length of his jeans until they stopped at the teacher’s upper thighs, giving him a light squeeze there.
“What do you want me to do now, sir?”
“I think you’ve rehearsed this part well enough to know what I want next,” Logan said, his voice low.
With a widening grin—a predator, Logan thinks—and a teasing air to his words, “How poetic of you to use wordplay to seduce me, Logan.”
Roman was met with hands in his hair, pulling his head back with little room to resist as Logan leaned forward, crowding into his space and lips ghosting over his ear. His low voice, deep and thick with arousal, made Roman gasp in response as he spoke: “Maybe it would be in your best interest to put your mouth to better use, Roman.”
Roman let out a whine, nodding eagerly before Logan let go and leaned back in his chair, giving Roman the room to work on freeing Logan’s cock from the confines of his slacks. For once, Logan couldn’t find a reason to complain about Roman—as much as he loved him, there were many reasons to rant and rave when it came to the eccentric and whimsical Roman—when he was left to work his magic, taking each inch slow and steady into his mouth.
Roman hollowed out his cheeks as he reached the base, smiling wide around Logan’s dick that twitched at the feeling. It was such a pretty sight, seeing Roman with his mouth stuffed and on his knees looking up at him.
“Oh god,” Logan gasped out, fingers carding through soft brown locks of hair.
The prince pulled off of him, his smile now an unbearably smug grin as he stroked Logan lazily, his lips ruby red; swollen; and slick with spit. He rested his head on Logan’s thigh, pressing a kiss there before glancing back up at him and teasing him with “You know, most people just call me Roman.”
Narrowing his eyes, Logan opened his mouth to speak, only to let out a drawn-out moan as Roman licked a long stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip of the head, his eyes glued on Logan’s expressions before circling the tip with his tongue. As a shudder ran through Logan, Roman took the cock back into his mouth and it took every bit of strength in him to control the urge to tangle fingers into the wild mane of hair and force his dick deep into the back of his lover’s throat.
As if God themselves answered his prayer for a distraction, lord knows he needed one, he caught sight of Virgil in the front row of the theatre. The plan was in motion now.
“Roman, dear, we have our first audience member for the show tonight,” Logan said, voice low and deep from his chest as he traced patterns down Roman’s neck and circled back to stroke his cheek. When Roman attempted to stop and look behind him, Logan pulled him back by his hair and thrust into the man’s mouth, a resounding moan being muffled at the rough gesture. “Now, now; you don’t want to ruin the show—Virgil, I’m glad you could join us!”
“Thanks for the invite, Logan,” Virgil could be heard from across the mind theatre, satisfaction in his voice. “The show is off to a good start; I’d hate to have missed another second of it and I’m sure the others won’t be long behind.”
Logan didn’t miss the way Roman’s hand travelled between his thighs, giving his cock a gentle squeeze to relieve the ache there. His body was a crimson red colour, flushed from head to toe at the thought of being watched with his mouth stuffed with cock, being on show for everybody. It was an arousing thought, for Roman and Logan.
The conversation went back and forth between groans and whines that passed through Logan’s clenched teeth; talking about how good Roman looked, how he was made to take cock in his mouth and it wasn’t long before a third person joined in.
Logan tapped Roman’s cheek twice, a signal for being close and Roman let his mouth go slack, giving Logan the go-ahead to pull him back by his hair. He came off with a pop , a whine escaping Roman’s lips before his jaw was caught in a rough, firm and guiding hand as Logan turned his head—right there in the front row was Virgil in Janus’ lap, the latter letting his hands roam all over the taller man while they watched Roman and Logan on the stage with vigilant eyes. Roman swallowed back a moan at the sight—of them, of Logan, of them watching him and Logan—as Janus twisted his wrist with a quick jerk, pre-come leaking out of Virgil’s cock.
Roman was definitely aroused, there was no denying it and Logan was just as bad. He dragged the prince to his feet, pulling him close and kissing him with fervour. They melted into one another, hands roaming and Logan could taste the lingering remains of honey and green tea on his tongue. They were both on fire as if Logan had struck a match and let them burn in the brazen wildfire that was their need, their passion and Roman was never so happy to burn before.
The grip around Roman’s neck tightened, in a good way, and there would be likely bruises in the morning. Roman was fine with that, he’d be able to trace and prod at them as he relived the memories over and over in his head. A distant whine from Virgil pulled Roman back to reality, his cock twitching at the sound and he couldn’t stop himself from grinding up against Logan’s leg in search of friction. He felt himself being pushed away and guided back to the stool, stumbling a little as he sat down on the seat.
Circling him like prey, Logan positioned himself behind Roman and leaned down, teeth latching onto the skin between his neck and his shoulder to suck and bite bruises into his unmarred skin. A hand snaked around his waist and between his thighs, gripping his cock and stroking him slowly, teasingly.
“Oh, look—Patton is here now,” Logan said, his breath hot in his ear. Roman’s eyes snapped open, having fluttered closed at the feeling of a hand on his dick, to see Patton in a seat a little further back from Janus and Virgil. He had his hands in his lap, flustered as he watched Logan use his hands to take Roman apart, making him moaning and begging mess. “These three are here for you, Roman dear, just to watch you fall apart.”
Roman could feel the press of Logan’s thick cock against his back, smearing it with pre-come. The thought of being fucked open in front of the others made his body shiver with anticipation, his cheeks lighting up a cherry red and it was only made more exciting watching those who were watching him in return, the way they stared at him as if they would climb onto the stage and take him right there.
He watched as Janus nuzzled into Virgil’s neck, pressing kisses there before whispering something unheard to the anxious side. The two shared a look with Patton before Janus called out to the two on the stage: “Logan, we’re all fans of the prelude but can we see the main show now that we’re all here?”
He wanted Logan to fuck him—the thought alone made Roman squirm— and he let his head lull back against Logan, a high pitched whine in the back of his throat as he begged, “Logan, please .”
“Please, what?” Logan chuckled darkly, his teeth dragging against the flesh of his neck before biting down again while he kept working a slow and steady pace, twisting his wrist every so often as he stroked Roman. “Use your words, Roman.”
“Just—” Roman moaned, shuddering. “Please fuck me, please; I want it, I need it—split me in two, show them how big your cock is and how good I take it, please!”
“I’m going to have to open you up all pretty-like first; do you think you can be patient enough for me to do that?”
“Yes, yes!” Roman whined, reaching up to pull Logan down and kiss him, pleading and begging between open-mouth kisses. “Please, just fuck me.”
It takes time and much patience but Logan positions him on the stage between kisses and fleeting touches, doing so in such a way that the others would be able to see everything of him. His eyes are squeezed shut but Roman can hear the way Patton’s breath hitches just as Logan pressed a slicked up finger into him and he shudders when Virgil lets out a deep growl accompanied by Janus’ satisfied hum when Roman moans uncontrollably at the way Logan’s finger curls inside him, his stomach coiling tight with heat.
He spreads his legs wider for Logan and Logan just knows him—inside and out—so without anything more than a look, he slips a second finger inside and scissors him open to stretch him nice and wide. Everyone can see this, Roman knows that and yet, it’s more arousing than embarrassing and he wonders if they’ll remember this the next time they run into one another. If Patton will blush and flounder when they lock eyes or if Virgil and Janus will press against him more, touch him fleetingly before inviting him back to one of their rooms. The thought makes him whimper, “Lo, I need more—”
“I bet you can’t wait to be stretched out on my cock,” Logan says instead, right in his ear, and all of a sudden, Logan’s eyes weigh the heaviest on him out of everybody in attendance. He’s so focused on what he is doing, how he’s taking Roman apart with each slide and curls of his fingers and the obscene way Roman stretches wide around them. “They can’t keep their eyes off you, Roman, that’s how beautiful you are—a work of art.”
When he was stretched enough, Logan lifted Roman into his lap—fuck, it was always so surprising how strong Logan was—before slowly sliding him onto his cock, letting him sink down. Logan bites his tongue but it doesn’t suppress the groan, unfiltered and loud, that Roman can’t help but feel flustered by how affected Logan is by him even now. It takes a bit of time, even with the preparation, to adjust and Logan gives him time before he starts to guide Roman into bouncing up and down on his cock. Roman barely remembers to breathe as he opens his eyes to watch over the front rows.
The feeling of being watched by hungry eyes as he sank down on Logan’s cock, slamming down faster with each thrust upwards to meet him, was dizzying and Roman had to avert his eyes from the overwhelming feeling that overcame him. Instead, he let his head fall back and moan, unashamed and unabashed as if he was merely conducting a symphony.
“Oh god, fuck!” Roman groaned, pushing back down with all his might against Logan’s hips as the man held him now, thrusting upwards at a quick and unforgiving pace. All he could think—no, feel—was how hot Logan felt inside him, how good it felt to be filled so deep and how he could feel eyes on him, moans in the distant fog of his mind that didn’t belong to him but to the others as they touched themselves and each other at the sight of Logan ruining him.
“Look at them,” Logan demanded, firm and he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust into him. “Look at how much they want you, Roman, how much they wished it was them who had you bouncing on their cock.”
Roman doesn’t hold back the sounds, his fingers digging crescent shapes into his thighs as he holds himself open wider. He opens his eyes and lifts his head again, taking them in as he watched the way Virgil’s cock was leaking, dripping down Janus’ scaly hand and how Patton was rubbing himself through his trousers, sheepish and shy. It made Roman keen, a low whine stuck in the back of his throat, that was only accentuated by the slide of Logan against his inner walls, the feeling of hands on him and the noise that reverberated off the walls.
He found himself revelling in a high that could only be achieved by the most splendid performances—he might even say this was his best act yet—and it was an incredible feeling; to be filled, to be seen and to be adored.
“You’re doing so well, dear,” Logan murmured between his own gasps and groans, pressed up against Roman’s back and every so often, he’d reach around to pump Roman’s cock fast then slow, pushing him close to the edge. “You love this, don’t you? Being watched this way as I fuck up into you but we know whose name you’ll be screaming at the end of the day.”
“Logan, Lo— right there! ” Roman begged as his vision blurred, “I’m so close, please!”
“You can touch yourself now, dear,” Logan kissed between his shoulders, trying to keep a consistent pace as he felt himself grow close as well. “I want you to come all over yourself, right here on stage in front of everyone—it’s the final act, make it a good one.”
Roman doesn’t need to be told twice, one hand reaching down to tug at himself, stroking as fast as he can to chase his release. He only hears Logan now, everything else distant, as he falls over the edge and spills over his fingers, thick white fluid running between his fingers and Logan’s name on the tip of his tongue, his body tensing at the sensation of coming undone.
Logan doesn’t stop, leaving him twitching with sensitivity, as he fucks into him shallow and fast to chase his own release and when he does, Logan fills him to the brim and lets Roman fall against him. If this was their room, they’d clean up and kiss each other until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. If this was anywhere else, there would be praises for a job well done and soft admissions of love.
Instead, Roman and Logan were met with applause and he hears Logan chuckle, his voice a raspy whisper in his ear now, “I think they liked the show.”
“I’d say it was my best show yet.”