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Ray, nude and explicit, dark eyed and burned all over with friction, exertion and Nate's mouth. Dark hair visibly damp, even on camera.
Tattoos that had never seen enough sun on deployment now out, on each shoulder like they were holding him together, emblazoned across his chest where Brad might hold him, secret-not-secrets on the inside of his arms.
Those arms held out to his sides just a little as he put his body on display, showing off the aftermath of Brad's plan, of Nate's clear use.
'Nate did a better job of ruining me than you did, Brad.'
Ray, disgusting, obscene, a wet shine in the light of the living room painted over his chin, a track up his chest, the heavy lines of come on the gentle ripples of his stomach muscles. Come, probably his own, caught in his navel and against the subtle definition of his lower obliques, those lines so close to his dick where Brad liked to rub his thumbs.
'I’ve just finished the job you started.'
Nate's come spat over the small of Ray's back, Brad's come still spilled between Ray's legs, defiling him.
'Poor work leaving it unfinished, Sergeant.'
Ray looking thoroughly finished off, and then the camera was turning round to Nate.
Nate, who looked deeply self-satisfied without looking smug, who looked like he'd needed Brad's present. Who looked sweet and grateful and suddenly young in a way that he hadn't been lately when he smiled, like the lick of the light of dawn over the horizon.
'-hey. Thanks for the present.'
'Where's my thank you!'
Nate's expression when he looked up at Brad's rude, mouthy, generous, gorgeous slut of a boyfriend, like he could see Ray for who he really was, just the way Brad did.
'Or maybe not.'
That fake irritation exactly the way Brad felt, nothing like real irritation, everything like fondness.
The video message ended.
Brad would have been able to better appreciate what he’d seen if not for the fact that he’d spent all day and then some turning Ray into the come-leaking little fucktoy he’d sent over for Nate to play with.
But… get over there for a full debrief?
He grabbed his keys.
-
“Brad!”
Nate’s happy surprise to see him at his door made Brad smile, one of those deep ones that started small but grew slow into something that brightened his entire face.
“Reporting for debrief, Sir.” he teased, coming in when Nate moved back to let him, turning and not ready for the kiss that Nate reached to give him once the door was closed.
Short but thorough, and Nate’s smile was only a little awkward when he ended it. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I see that.”
Nate laughed and it was good to hear, as it always was. It had been suppressed under tight smiles in OIF, even under the onslaught of Ray’s relentless antics, his hard work to keep the platoon in good spirits that even Brad had overlooked from time to time.
Nate’s laugh was like his speech, quick and certain, but the sound didn’t bring Ray running.
“Where’s our little reprobate?”
“Oh, Ray’s asleep.”
Brad raised an eyebrow, but in Ray’s defence, he had been busy all day. “I could take him home, if you like?”
“No; let him sleep, he’s not a bother.”
Nate led Brad through to the living room, offering a seat which Brad took and then tilting a bottle of whisky at him in question.
Brad nodded to answer as he spoke. “You say that now, Nate, but you’ll wake up with his heel in the small of your back and his elbow in your mouth and regret it.”
Nate huffed another laugh, pouring two measures into glass tumblers, replacing the bottle and then coming around to join Brad.
“I’ll just put you in the middle.”
“Unfortunately, he has an unnerving ability to crawl around like some kind of particularly bony worm and work himself into the most annoying positions known to man. It’s almost calculated. You will wake up with his bundle-of-sticks scarecrow limbs in delicate places.”
“We could just push him out onto the floor instead. He’s out like a light, I don’t think he’d even realise until tomorrow.”
Brad smiled, something hot and smooth like their drink. “You wore him out.”
“I don’t think I can take the credit for that, Brad, he was pretty worn out when he got here.”
Brad smiled into his drink, his turn to feel self-satisfied. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Never thought I’d see Ray Person too tired to get it up. Not that he didn’t make a valiant effort in the end.”
“Oh?”
“He sucked me off while he was in the bath.”
“While he was in the bath?”
“Well, he needed it more than I did.” Nate put his almost-empty glass down and turned where he sat, putting his hand on Brad’s knee and just squeezing there. “He was a fucking mess.”
Brad felt a creeping thread of interest tug at his cock, but it didn’t seem to want to go any further than that. “I don’t think I’ve got anything left after fucking Ray all day.”
Nate laughed. “I’m not surprised after seeing the state you left him in.”
Nate’s hand withdrew, but Brad reached out and caught it with his own. “What about you, Nate? Can you go again?”
Nate’s breath came a little heavier. “You don’t have to put yourself out, Brad.”
Brad put his glass on the table beside Nate’s abandoned one and leaned across the space between them to kiss Nate again, one large hand against Nate’s neck.
“Not putting myself out.” he promised. He moved his hand up Nate’s inner thigh, reached to feel over the shape of Nate’s cock when the touch was allowed, leaned in to kiss him again.
They made out for a bit, Brad shaking away some strange feeling of familiarity, memories of accompanying his girlfriend on babysitting gigs in high school and necking on some strange family’s sofa.
The vague form of those thoughts didn’t hurt the way they would have done once, and he realised, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the great tear inside him had all but healed over. He knew Ray was largely responsible for that.
He missed him in this space, because part of him always did when Ray wasn’t in insulting distance, but not enough that he’d disturb Ray, or leave Nate, just to get Ray involved.
“Nate.” He sat back and then got down off the sofa to kneel on the floor between Nate’s knees. “Lie back.”
Nate knew he could say no, but why the hell would he want to? He did as he was told, and it pleased Brad to see Nate follow his orders given the small gratified sound he made.
Brad worked the elastic waistband of Nate’s pyjama pants down enough to bare his cock, then spat in his own palm to get Nate slicked up. Nate drew in a sharp breath when Brad’s hand wrapped around him, stroking with a brisk efficiency reminiscent of his behaviour in the field.
He was staring straight at Nate as well; that direct, mission focus which made a shudder go through Nate that he wasn’t sure was arousal or fear from his lizard brain.
Arousal, okay, it was pure lust. “Brad, fuck!”
Brad shot him a grin that would frankly be terrifying under any other circumstances, then unceremoniously dropped his mouth down on Nate’s dick. Nate arched his hips up, up towards that wet suction, sighed and dropped the back of his head against the sofa.
“Fuck.” he said again, startled at how helpless he sounded, even to himself.
Brad’s hands came to Nate’s knees, gripping firmly but not holding him down. One of Nate’s hands fisted into itself, pressed against the side of his leg; the other reached out a few times, grasping at nothing, and then came to rest on Brad’s shoulder.
“Slow down, slow down.” Nate panted.
Brad shook his head and it made Nate whimper on the end of a groan.
“Come on, Brad!”
Brad relented, mostly. He pulled up, but replaced his mouth with his hand which was somehow worse. Unremitting, almost mechanical if not for the soft-firm grip. Brad reared up to kiss Nate, used his other hand to thumb just behind Nate’s balls and the sudden sensation almost shocked Nate’s orgasm out of him.
He came hard against Brad’s stomach and the swiftness of it left him lying trembling and slumped into the sofa, forward into Brad.
“Good?” Brad asked after a moment, kissing the curve of Nate’s neck.
Nate laughed, a breathless little puff of sound, and pushed himself into sitting. “Good? Good. I don’t know how Ray is still even alive.”
That made Brad laugh too, absolutely glowing with how self-pleased he was. Nate couldn’t even argue that Brad didn’t deserve to feel that way.
They finished their drinks after Brad removed his shirt and used it to clean them both up, waving off Nate’s apologies. They kissed a little while longer, just that, before Nate invited Brad up to bed.
Nate kept the light in the bathroom on, in case any of his guests had cause to get up in the night so that they wouldn’t have to stumble around in the dark. It provided enough light in his room, with the door open, to see that Ray was fast asleep on Nate’s bed, sprawled out on his front with his mouth slightly open.
He was undressed but semi-tangled in a bath towel; one knee was pulled up a little, and the other leg splayed out like he was trying to take up as much diagonal space as a five-foot-nine man could.
He cushioned his head with one arm, while the other snuck under one of Nate’s pillows in that grabby clutching way that Brad recognised as usually being deployed on him.
Even the faint light was enough to show all the places where that skinny, bared body was marked up dark with tattoos, and brushed with little red smudges that would either fade or ripen to bruises that Brad would play with later.
Brad suddenly wished that he’d stuck around to watch Nate open his present in real time.
“He had a bath and went straight to sleep.” Nate commented, his voice low and quiet but wry.
“On your side of the bed.” Brad noted, equally dry, but his gaze was gentle and genuinely loving on Ray’s sleeping body.
Nate sometimes forgot that people found Brad so inscrutable, because as far as Nate was concerned he was such an easy read. The size and depth of Brad’s feelings were such that they’d be almost impossible to hide, if you knew how to look; how Brad felt about Ray was as obvious as the fact that Ray felt the same things back.
If Nate wasn’t as comfortable with this arrangement, where he had the privilege of sharing in Brad and Ray’s affection for each other, he might have been jealous. As it was, he could confidently say that he loved them without being in love with them, and that he appreciated the trust they had in him to do this.
“Of course he is.” Nate sighed.
“I got it.”
Brad stripped to his boxers and then got into his side of the bed. Ray was lying with his back to Brad, so Brad just reached out and tugged Ray’s sleep-limp body in by his waist, as though he were nothing more than a pet cat.
“C’mere, you.” Brad murmured softly to Ray, who woke enough to stretch a little and tangle his legs back with Brad’s.
“Mm, hi,” he greeted sleepily, accepting the kiss that Brad pressed to the side of his head. He opened one eye lazily in Nate’s direction.
“Hey.”
Ray didn’t say anything in response; his curiosity satisfied, and all important people located, he just burrowed his face in against the pillow and fell straight back into sleep.
“Your side of the bed is all yours again.” Brad grinned, triumphant at his small victory. He lay on his side, kept an arm slung around Ray’s waist and rested his chin on the ducked crown of Ray’s head.
Nate had taken the chance to pyjama-up while Brad was Ray-wrangling, and he tugged the now dried towel off the bed and to the floor before getting in on his favoured side of the bed. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Anytime, LT.”
Nate felt sleepy and relaxed, warm with the heat of whiskey and good orgasms. He reached out and brushed his knuckles gently against the peeking edge of the stark design of Ray’s bicep tattoo.
He let Brad take his hand and link their fingers together.
“Goodnight Nate.”
Brad’s eyes were warm and content, watching him over Ray’s head.
“Night Brad.”
Brad pressed his face into the back of Ray’s neck. Nate fell asleep with Brad’s hand held in his.
-
Nate woke up too warm, assessing his surroundings quickly and realising that he’d been drawn into Ray’s grabby praying mantis arms during the night. Ray had slithered out of Brad’s grip - Brad who now had his face smushed into the small of Ray’s back – and had tucked his head in against the side of Nate’s chest, arms around Nate’s waist.
Nate was on his back, like he’d tried rolling over to escape Ray in his sleep but had relented halfway through, one of his arms draped over Ray’s shoulder. His own shoulder ached a little bit, but at least none of his limbs were asleep.
He tried extricating himself from Ray’s clutch, but just ended up waking him instead.
“Wha, wha?”
Combat arousal clearly hadn’t followed Ray back from deployment. That, or he just felt so secure around Brad and Nate that even his subconscious mind couldn’t trip an alarm when he was around them.
Nate turned towards Ray and took hold of his chin, tilting him up into a kiss and whispering against his mouth, “Shh, shh, be quiet. Brad’s still asleep.”
Ray looked over his shoulder a little, then back to Nate; he still looked half-asleep himself, some kind of just-woken vulnerability in his Bambi-huge eyes. “C’m back to bed.” he suggested more than demanded, tugging at Nate where he still had a grip.
“Gotta pee.”
Ray pursed his lips but let go, if reluctantly.
Nate gave him a fleeting kiss on the mouth. “I’ll come back.”
Good to his word, Nate returned to his bedroom after doing a quick wash up, finding that Ray had turned over and gone back to sleep despite his earlier plea; he’d nestled up against Brad’s chest in a way that Nate would refuse to describe as cute.
Also not the word he’d used to describe the way Brad had tucked into him in return, how his face was pressed nose first into Ray’s dark head of hair.
Of course, Brad was now awake. He was already watching Nate, looking not unlike a cat that was awake enough to keep an eye out, but too lazy to lift it’s head.
He held deliberate eye contact with Nate in something like a challenge; he didn’t look away while he smoothed his large hand down Ray’s back, down over the pitiable but still somehow desirable rise of his bare ass, clutching at it until his fingers pillowed against Ray’s skin.
Ray whined and pawed a little clumsily at Brad; Nate couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not. The action was too uncoordinated for Ray to be wholly cognizant of it.
Brad grinned at Nate and squeezed the muscle of Ray’s ass again, waking Ray enough that he could make a coherent complaint. “Fuck’s sake, Brad, yesterday wasn’t enough for you, you gotta molest me in my sleep?”
Nate laughed and Ray lifted a hand in his direction, middle finger raised.
“So uncivilised.” Brad sighed, capturing Ray’s arm and pinning it back to his body, indulging Ray’s half-hearted attempt at wrestling while Nate climbed back onto the bed.
“He has a point.” Nate put in, leaning in to give Brad a kiss hello when Brad finally pinned Ray and looked up for one.
Ray sighed from under Brad's weight. “Why is it that, even when you’re agreeing with me, I’m still getting shafted?”
Brad dropped his head down and bit Ray on the top of the ear, making him yelp. “Because you like it, and we’re accommodating like that.”
Nate dodged Ray’s kicking, flailing leg. “When you’re quite done…”
Brad put his hand over Ray’s mouth, using his larger mass to hold Ray down and making a face when Ray inevitably licked at Brad’s palm. “Yes Sir.”
“Breakfast?”
-
“Fuck Nate, you’re so fucking good at making pancakes. Is there anything you can’t do? How come you never make me pancakes, Brad?”
“A combination of keeping you away from sugar, and not wanting to see any more of that than I have to.”
Ray scowled at Brad with the mouthful of half-masticated pancake, and the liberal smear of red-purple jam flirting with a curl of whipped cream on his chin that Brad had pointed to.
“Thank you, Ray.” Nate said, genuinely pleased, sitting back and nursing his coffee. Brad gave him a stony Iceman look, which just made Nate grin back at him over the rim of his coffee cup.
Ray absently lapped his tongue widely around his mouth, as though that did anything to clean his face off.
Brad, watching him like he was a particularly interesting but grotesque bug even now, even after years of seeing this, sighed.
“What?” Ray asked, indignant; he mopped up more jam with the last scrap of his pancake and shoved it into his mouth in one bite.
“There are paper towels right there, Ray.” Brad commented, nodding at what was indeed a roll of kitchen towel on a holder in the middle of Nate’s table. “Pretend you’re a human being and clean your damn mouth.”
“I don’t think we need to waste paper towels, Brad.” Nate cut in.
Ray watched him, eyes widening as Nate reached out to hold his face still by his chin, and then licked through the jam up the corner of Ray’s mouth to his lips. Ray was so caught out of step that it took a moment for him to ping back to himself and respond to Nate’s kiss with eager reciprocation.
Brad looked like he couldn’t decide if what he was seeing was disgusting or hot.
Nate pulled away and Ray still looked a little pole-axed. He watched as Nate cleaned the remaining sweetness off Ray’s face with his thumb and sucked it clean; Ray slid an incredulous look over Brad’s way.
“Come on Nate, don’t give him an incentive to keep eating like a pig in a trough.”
“You are so fucking mean to me, homes.” Ray protested, no real complaint behind his words.
“You could be a little nicer to him after yesterday.” Nate agreed, to Ray’s obvious delight and Brad’s clear disapproval. “It was a very kind gesture, and I appreciate the thought, but really, it was Ray who had to do a lot of the hard work.”
“Excuse me? Ray wasn’t the one tapped dry like a beer keg after an end-of-exam frat house party.”
“No, I was the one you decided to turn into a comedump, and then you pawned the clean-up off on Nate. Yesterday was the best day of your life, dude, admit it!”
Nate slid into the discussion before it could turn into a full-blown argument. “This is where a debrief would be useful.”
“Agreed.” Brad said promptly, reminded of Nate’s video clip last night.
“You realise that means you’ll have to sit there and listen, Brad, right?” Nate pointed out, visibly bursting Brad’s bubble. “This is going to be a show and tell event.”
“Ha!” Ray gloated, for about half a second before Nate took him by the arm and urged him to his feet.
“You can afford to be a little gracious.” Nate chided him, sliding his hands over Ray’s hips and up his sides underneath the tshirt Nate had allowed him to borrow that morning.
“Don’t use big words he can’t understand, Nate.” Brad chimed in, seemingly content to sit where he was and palm himself through his boxers, for now at least.
Ray might have said something back, but he was distracted by Nate’s hands on his skin working him out of his shirt, and Nate’s mouth fluttering kisses in a tease against the corner of his mouth.
“Is he always so mean to you?” Nate asked, all sham concern.
Ray responded in kind, pouting like a champion even as he tried to work his hands under the waistband of Nate’s pyjama pants, Nate batting his attempts away. “Yes, all the time.”
“Poor baby.”
Brad sighed pointedly.
“Do you think we should teach him a lesson?” Nate asked, speaking to Ray but looking at Brad.
“Fuck yeah.”
Nate unceremoniously tugged Ray’s boxers – his loaned pair of boxers – down Ray’s legs and turned him to face the table. “Bend over.”
Ray furrowed his eyebrows but did as he was told, the way he always did, and Nate reached over his shoulder to push aside the open jar of jam, the whipped cream can and the dirty plates that cluttered the table.
Nate pressed himself up close to Ray, sliding his hand down one of Ray’s forearms and directing him to lie out flat against the table instead of propped up on his elbows as he was with a soft ‘there you go’.
Ray pressed his chest to the tabletop with a sigh, content already just to be manipulated like this. Nate was careful that he couldn’t rub himself up against anything.
“I still can’t believe you let him out of the house like that.” Nate spoke to Brad, even as he reached down between Ray’s legs; he pulled his hand lazily up Ray’s cock a couple of times, making him whine. “And when I got him out of those jeans…” he shook his head, reaching into his pyjama pants pocket and producing a half-squished bottle of lube, standing it on the table on its cap like some weird breakfast item.
“I said it would be a surprise.” Brad wasn’t unaffected by Nate bending Ray over the table in front of him.
Nate was confident that Brad would speak up, or use the safeword if this wasn’t something he’d enjoy. Brad was in charge with them so often that it was an unusual bit of fun to turn the tables on him this time around, Nate and Ray working together to wind Brad up.
“It was.”
“I’m still here.” Ray complained.
Nate pet his hair but then pinched him on the back of his upper thigh, making him twitch away with a yelp. “Hush.”
He rubbed the place where he’d nipped at Ray’s skin, and then traced his thumb curiously against the rim of Ray’s hole.
Ray pressed his face in against his own elbow with a quiet shiver.
“He was so fucking wet, so soft. I didn’t have to do anything except push into him.” he questioned Ray’s readiness with his index finger. “Didn’t even need lube.” he commented, although he reached for the bottle now. He applied some over his fingers, but used it sparingly. “He’s all clean now, but he’s still loose.”
Nate bent to kiss Ray’s shoulder while he slid two fingers into him without hesitation, gentle but firm.
Brad, watching fixedly, shifted in his chair, sinking lower and pushing his hand down under his boxers to touch his cock bare-handed. He swallowed hard at the little catch of breath Nate’s fingers pushed out of Ray.
“Not surprised, not with how open you fucked him for me.”
“Nate.” Ray whined, and Nate rubbed his lower back, kept fingering him regardless.
“Shit, Nate.” Brad swore softly at the same time.
“Said you fucked him all day and only let him come twice.” He continued, like he wasn’t hard in his pyjamas himself, like Brad wasn’t flushed from his waist to his face in the chair, like Ray wasn’t already panting against the wood of the tabletop and pushing back impatiently into Nate’s fingers. “In fact, this should be familiar to you. He said you, what, ‘railed him over the kitchen table’?”
Nate withdrew his fingers and pulled his own pyjamas down, efficiently kicking them away and stroking his cock with the remaining lube on his hand at the same time.
“That’s what I’m going to do right now.”
He reached down and hiked Ray’s leg with a grip behind Ray’s knee, bending it and encouraging it up and off the ground. Ray was flexible enough to reach the tabletop with a soft expletive, even if he had to go up on his tiptoes to do so.
The position left Ray splayed wide open over the table, the muscle of his calf tensed beautifully, his hands curling into themselves.
“You’re just going to watch.”
It was a command, not a taunt.
Brad just sat back and watched Ray’s face, dark eyes closed and his nose semi-buried against his forearm, as Nate held his hips steady, steadying, and pushed in; he saw, more than heard, the whimper it prompted from Ray.
He watched Nate looking down at where his cock was sinking into Ray’s body, how he reached down and, Brad guessed, rubbed his thumb against the stretch of Ray’s hole. He knew just what that looked like and it made him groan in equal parts frustration and arousal.
That sound made Nate look up at him, a quick, sharp look in his eyes that filtered to the smile he gave Brad, bright as a blade. “You’re doing good Ray, doing so good for me, you feel so fucking good.” Nate murmured, not low enough that Brad couldn’t hear him.
Ray sighed, turned his head until his forehead pressed against the tabletop. His shoulders rolled forward in response to Nate’s own roll forward into his body, shifting to keep his knee up on the table.
“Look at you. So easy I could get a finger in here too.” Nate almost mused, making Ray shudder.
“Yeah, do it.” Brad encouraged, and then found out first hand how Ray felt when Brad thwarted his desires because Nate shook his head at him.
“You can observe, and you can admire.” he bucked his hips in a short but swift punch up into Ray, making him yelp. “But your commentary is not required.”
Ray made a sound that Brad was sure was a giggle, but no amount of knowing he’d taunt Ray about it later made up for the fact that Nate was taking charge.
Brad lifted his hips from the chair so that he could shimmy his boxers down, almost for lack of anything else to do. He stroked his hand over his cock in a full-contact grip, carefully in rhythm with the tempo of Nate’s hips fucking into Ray.
“Fuck.” Ray said, more of a gasp than a word, the first thing he’d said since Nate had pushed in.
“Okay?” Nate checked.
“Mm, yeah, fuck… good. God, Nate…”
His unfocused enthusiasm made Nate smile, had him bend his head down to kiss across Ray’s shoulder and bite at the back of his neck. Ray moaned, turned his head to the side and then he was meeting Brad’s blue stare with an almost blank, foggy look.
They’d done some kinky things, but even in their previous threesomes, Brad had never actually had the chance to look full into Ray’s face as he was getting fucked before.
He’d be positioning a mirror in their bedroom after today, determined that this wasn’t going to be the last time he got to see this: Ray’s eyebrows quirked like he didn’t understand the pleasure he was feeling; an almost feverish flush to his cheeks; the combination of both making Ray’s already dark eyes look inky, enormous in his face and broadcasting how immediate everything must be feeling to him.
Ray panted, mouth opened in a helpless wet curl on short-stopped consonants and whore-moan vowels, all his constant noise now deconstructed and raw.
Brad rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock and the sound he made wasn’t a whimper. “Nate, come on…”
Nate smiled against the sweat-hot skin of Ray’s back. “Are you having a problem?”
“Let me just… just fuck his mouth, just let me put the tip in, something.”
“Sorry, Brad.” It was the last thing Brad wanted to hear when Ray looked like that. Hell, when Nate looked like that, all carnivore and control. “You have your orders: just sit there quietly while I fuck your boyfriend over the table.”
Brad accidentally bit the inside of his bottom lip so hard he broke skin and tasted blood.
Nate’s words did something to Ray, because he whined urgently, “Fuck, Nate, I’m gonna come-”
Nate skipped fingers over the little bow bruise he’d bitten into Ray’s shoulderblade last night, the back of the line of Ray’s neck and the reddened shading of the bite he’d left there too. His hand was covetous around and down Ray’s throat, and then curled in a firm grasp over Ray’s shoulder. “Whenever you like, Ray.”
Ray came with a high cry like that had been all he needed, arching up off the table in a way that contorted his body into something almost painful. Nate fucked him through it, thrust into the strong grab of Ray’s body so hard that Ray had to brace himself on the table where the whipped cream can and the bottle of lube toppled over.
When Nate came inside Ray he bared his teeth, but hid his face against the expanse of Ray’s heaving back with a groan that Brad felt was a little performative.
Didn’t stop him coming over his hand almost in sync with that sound, his own growl through gritted teeth almost a snarl.
“Fuck.” he said, a few long beats into the ensuing moment, over the sounds of the three of them getting their breath back and the slowing rock of the whipped cream can, now on the kitchen floor.
“Need to put my leg down.” Ray finally voiced, mostly into the tabletop’s veneer.
“Sorry.” Nate lifted his weight off Ray’s flattened body, pulling out of him delicately and just as carefully guiding Ray’s leg to the floor, and then the rest of him when Ray slid indelicately off the table.
Nate threw a tea towel Brad’s way and then reached to the somehow still-standing roll of kitchen paper for his own clean-up, watching as Ray flexed his toes and pushed his thumb in against the arch of his foot.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, just… pins and needles.” Ray assured, waggling his foot more vigorously to get the blood flowing. “Fuck LT, and I thought fucking Brad was a work out.”
“I was taking pointers.” Brad commented, his tone somewhere between a reproach and a threat as Nate handed the towel roll down to Ray.
“Why do I feel like that's going to come back to bite me in the ass worse than you two gnawy fuckers already do?” Ray complained, wiping himself down.
“That would be your US Marine-honed skills of perception and pattern-recognition fighting through the brain damage you sustained as a combination of inbreeding and huffing glue as an infant.”
Ray flipped Brad the bird.
Nate laughed at their antics, clearing their dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, all while still nude. He ran the tap over them briefly but left them to soak in favour of retrieving his pyjamas.
“Nate, I thought we were teaching this motherfucker a lesson.” Ray complained mournfully.
“Maybe we could continue this lesson in the shower.” Nate suggested, pulling his pants on and giving Ray a hand up. “I did offer Brad a full debrief.”
“I have doubts about the accuracy of your information.” Brad commented, getting up off his chair and tugging his underwear back up.
“Well, I was definitely stripped down and pushed up against a flat surface while Nate fucked the shit out of me, so that part’s accurate.” Ray said, glib. “But he did spunk up my back instead of inside me, so take from that what you will.”
“God, Ray.” Nate exclaimed, running a hand down his face at the same time that Brad sighed, loud and weary.
“What?!”
“And yet I’m the one being taught a lesson.” Brad said, flat.
-
They’d made Brad shower alone while Ray finally convinced Nate to join him in the bath; they didn’t do anything more than kiss and grope each other a little while cleaning up, but Brad still felt like he’d missed out.
Nate gave him a long, drawn-out kiss to make up for it, lesson over. Ray whooped in the background and then launched himself at Brad when Nate moved away, aiming for a kiss but ending up on the ground and pinned with a lungful of air thwacked out of him.
Brad gave him a kiss on the forehead and then got up off him, watching Ray squirm about and pull himself to his feet.
Leaving Nate’s place took longer than anticipated, as first Ray then Brad had to kiss him, but were reluctant to stop at just one. Nate parsed out that this was stemming from concern for him, that his stress with school was worrying them a little.
“I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m fine. I’m better than I was, ready to get stuck into it, and we can always meet up again next weekend.”
Mollified, Brad and Ray finally took themselves home.
Brad threw some clothes into the laundry, including the ones he'd made Ray ruin before he’d showed up at Nate’s door, and when he came back into the bedroom he had to stop Ray wearing the t-shirt that Brad had picked out for himself.
“I know you’re only used to hessian sacks and worn-out rags you’d only find discarded from a thrift store bargain bin, but you have your own fucking clothes, Ray, you don’t have to wear mine!”
Not to say that it didn’t do something to him when he saw Ray looking small and claimed in his attire, but it was the principle of the thing.
He tried wrestling Ray out of his shirt as he spoke, succeeding mostly in cocooning him in it instead, until the scent of something familiar but out of place in their room halted him.
“What-?” he buried his nose in the dark tufts of Ray’s hair and inhaled.
“The fuck?” Ray questioned, mostly letting himself be held still but only as subterfuge to try and quietly escape the wrapped restriction of Brad’s shirt.
“You smell like Nate.”
“Well, yeah homes, we used his shower stuff in the shower.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Brad walked forward into a protesting Ray, who stepped back a little to avoid being trampled and hit the end of the bed where he was pushed down onto the mattress by Brad, who had used this sneaky trick to get Ray there. “You smell like Nate.”
Brad clambered on top of Ray like a predator species, only to stick his nose in the curve of skin bared at the base of Ray’s throat by the too-wide collar of Brad’s shirt; Brad’s shirt that Ray had only managed to shove one arm and his head into before Brad’s interference, so that it hung loose around his neck on one side.
Ray didn’t need anything other than Brad pressing into him to turn his head to the side, giving Brad all the space he needed to hunt that smell down, shivering when Brad licked at him.
“You’re an animal.” Ray let the shake in his voice be coloured by a laugh instead of whatever it was zipping through him at the feeling of Brad’s breath against him; a tickle that had him hardening up in what were actually his pair of boxers.
His hands went to Brad’s bare waist, just holding there as Brad breathed in deep against his skin, like Ray was perfumed.
“This is fucking with my head.” Brad muttered against the place where Ray’s jawline came to his neck, giving Ray’s jawbone a soft nip and making him jolt.
“Fucking cannibal.” Ray said a little airily, his attempt at grousing falling short under the circumstances.
He could feel Brad’s answering self-satisfied grin.
“Let me…” Brad trailed off, leaning high up over Ray so that he could nose in against his hair again, breathing him in behind his ear, at the top of his head.
Ray took the opportunity to latch onto Brad’s collarbone and suck like a lamprey for a quick few seconds before Brad shifted out of reach.
“Ray.” Brad growled, but he dipped his head down and took Ray’s mouth with his own in a kiss that was more a hungry gnaw. Ray was capable of kissing back, but only just.
Brad released him and tugged at his shirt on Ray’s body in an endeavour to work it off him. Ray curved into a half sit-up and let Brad wrestle it up and off, thrown to the side somewhere, clearly unimportant now.
Brad dug his fingers into Ray’s side and up under his arm, making him squirm before he lay Ray back down and urged that arm up above Ray’s head. He bit at the taut line where pectoral twined into deltoid and then down to graze his teeth over Ray’s chest just under his armpit.
It made Ray laugh, short breathless pants because for a moment he couldn’t compose himself enough to speak.
“Did you use Nate’s deodorant?” Brad asked into his skin.
“What do you think, reconnaissance man?”
Ray yelped when Brad bit him, making sure to nip so that it zinged with a spicy little hurt.
Brad ignored Ray’s following complaint and traced his nose to the jugular notch, down to the sweet, shallow hollow of Ray’s sternum. For a bone so strong it felt ridiculously fragile under that thin layer of warm, forest-smelling skin, and although Ray tensed for a bite, Brad pushed a kiss there amongst the scant hair instead.
The momentary tenderness didn’t go unnoticed; Ray reached a hand down and pushed his fingers into Brad’s clean hair, dark blond indecently silky between the digits. He rubbed at Brad’s scalp gently while Brad muttered something about Nate and then continued on his journey down.
He laved his tongue down to Ray’s navel, biting at it in some mimicry of bellybutton piercing the way he liked to do, the way that always made Ray give a satisfying full body shudder. Brad took a brief moment to lay his head down against the compact muscle of Ray’s stomach which didn’t quite make up for the slight concavity that still hung around there, but only a brief one.
The scent of dark herbs and something like pine was weakest here, on the flatter planes of Ray’s body. It was still strong enough for Brad to feel conflict between his arousal – knowing that Nate had been here, the memory of all the times they’d had together – and the passionate, demanding thing inside him fighting to overwrite that scent and re-stake it’s claim on this body.
Brad licked the skin and smattering of hair that started below Ray’s navel and down under his boxers, and then promptly subverted Ray’s expectations by slipping out from under Ray’s hand and standing back up at the foot of the bed.
Ray propped himself up on his elbows with an incredulous scoff, but Brad didn’t give him time to finish the, ‘uhm, excuse me, but what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ that he knew was coming in one form or another.
He gripped Ray by the back of the knees and yanked him down the bed, hooking Ray’s legs up over his elbows and holding them there. Ray was left lying on his back half bare, spread open, tilted up and – by the look on his face – utterly delighted.
“Ho-ly shit, Brad.” he laughed, his pure joy coaxing a smile from Brad back at him.
Brad juggled one of Ray’s legs and then licked up the sole of his foot from foot to heel, biting Ray’s big toe and making Ray fight not to kick Brad in the face.
“Kinky.” Ray breathed, but he wasn’t complaining.
“Ray, you fucking smell like Nate. I don’t know if I wanna fuck you like this or scrub you down with my shower gel instead.”
Ray raised an eyebrow, pulling a face. “Really? Because I think I can guess which one you’re gonna choose.” He arched his back, Brad bracing as Ray’s legs tensed against the hold he had on them. “Get these boxers off me already, homes.”
Brad responded by catching up Ray’s ankles, one in each hand, and manipulating him until Ray anchored them around Brad’s waist, Brad obligingly shelling him out of his boxers before blithely removing his own shirt.
Ray scraped at the hem of Brad’s customary slouching-around sweatpants with his heels, in an attempt to pull them down Brad’s stupidly long legs. He only succeeded when Brad moved to help, shuffling Ray’s legs from one hand to the other while he did, not releasing Ray for a moment.
Ray himself didn’t seem all that inclined to free himself anyway.
Brad kept one of Ray’s legs slung over his elbow, but hoisted the other one up until the gentle curve of the Achilles’ at the back of his heel rested on the swell of Brad’s shoulder, close and fitted like the one had been carved from the other.
He made use of his free hand to smooth down the taut, hard muscle of Ray’s thigh and down to thumb thoughtfully at Ray’s hole. “You still all opened up from Nate, hm?” he asked, that quiet voice that Ray could almost feel pressing down on him. “Do I even need lube?”
Ray hissed air through his teeth when Brad pushed his thumb in, just a little. “Please.”
Brad reached his hand out towards Ray, almost in supplication. “Spit.”
Ray did as he was told, working his tongue around his mouth and then dropping saliva into Brad’s palm; it felt all the filthier for the way Ray’s eyes were fixed to Brad’s the entire time.
Then again, the texture of Ray’s expression would have made anything seem like pornography in that moment.
“Good boy.” Brad praised, smearing Ray’s own spit against his hole and then giving his cock a rough cover with it.
Ray was fucked-out enough after that weekend for his body to take it, but it still skirted the edges of almost unmanageable, and the muscles in his arms corded up, tensing, when Brad pushed in.
Brad’s eyes kept flicking from Ray’s face to where his cock was moving into Ray’s body, reclaiming him even if he still smelled of Nate.
“Beautiful, you’re beautiful baby, fucking-” Brad broke off, pausing his push in to turn his head and kiss the hard knot of bone at Ray’s ankle, scraping his teeth against it in the next instant.
Ray heaved a sigh that caught in his diaphragm and turned into a falling staircase of shallow breath, panting because of his slightly folded up position, because Brad was carefully pushing into him again.
Brad hitched Ray’s leg over his elbow into a more secure hold, utilising his free hand to squeeze the muscle of Ray’s calf, down to grope at his thigh, down to press his thumb against the taut rim of Ray’s hole like he could open him a little more.
Ray arched up as much as he could when he was bending the way he was, whining in breathless protest. “Fuck. Brad.”
“Okay?”
“Feel… fucking huge.”
Brad chuckled at Ray’s put-upon indignation, pulled back and moved in again. “Well, there’s a reason for that, Ray.”
Even with his toes curling and his body shaking a little from the position Brad held him in as he sank into him, Ray was still able to smirk back up at Brad.
And Brad didn’t know specifically what Ray was thinking, but he knew it was some kind of insult from the colour of Ray’s smirk. “Shut up.” he muttered, not without a smile of his own.
Ray tried a laugh but it petered out into a groan. “Brad, come on, enough.”
“Are you even close to ready here, Ray?” Brad asked, sceptical.
“Fucking fuck me already, fuck.”
Brad held the leg he had hooked over his elbow out further to the side, so that Ray was splayed out wide and open, some weird negative to the way Nate had spread him wide over the breakfast table that morning.
He saw how exposed it made Ray feel in the quick shiver that skittered through him, in the way Ray reached out and wrapped his fingers around Brad’s wrist.
“Yeah, come on.” he encouraged, softly the way he always made a big production of not being able to be.
It shook away any doubt Brad might have had about Ray’s readiness, even if his initial thrust in was still a little curious, testing.
It jumped a short yelp out of Ray, but a low ‘yeah’ followed on it’s heels, so Brad did it again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Brad, so deep, feels so deep like this.” Ray panted, the position compressing him into breathlessness a little, Ray trying to compensate by arching back onto his shoulders. He was red in the face already.
“Not hurting you?” Brad checked in.
“You hear a fucking safeword? Fuck!” Ray’s brief scowl left him at Brad’s next thrust in. “Yeah, yeah, come on, come on Brad, do it, take me back, come on. You know I’m yours, fucking show me.”
“Shit, Ray.”
Brad’s jealousy hadn’t been real, not when Nate had been involved, but Brad knew Ray worried about him sometimes, worried that it brought up things for him that his ex-fiancee had caused. Sometimes Brad needed that reassurance, but not now.
Not now when Ray was folded up under him in a way that couldn’t be wholly comfortable, after Ray had spent the weekend letting Brad mess him up and send him off to get even more messed up with Nate. Not when everything Ray had done this weekend had been because he’d do pretty much anything for Brad.
Of course, that animal part of Brad that wanted to claim a mate and stake out it’s territory had other ideas.
“Gonna soak you in my shower gel after this, Ray.” He promised. “You’re only gonna smell like me, and that’s all.”
“Greedy motherfucker.” Ray managed.
“Yeah.” Brad agreed.
Brad hefted Ray’s leg from his elbow to his other shoulder so that Ray’s feet bracketed his head, leaning down so that Ray’s knees hooked over Brad’s shoulders instead.
He tried for a kiss, and doubled Ray up over himself to get it. Ray made a valiant effort to keep hold of Brad’s mouth with his own, but he was so squashed that his mouth kept slipping off so that he could gasp air in.
He felt lightheaded and dizzy with Brad’s mouth and the way he was all scrunched up both. He was tugged all the way to the end of the bed, almost off it, and Brad was up on his tiptoes despite his height so that he could keep fucking into Ray.
It was deeper than Ray was used to, this angle.
“God Brad, I’m gonna come already.” he warned.
“Yeah, come for me sweetheart, you love my cock, show me how much, come on.”
Ray bit his lip and grabbed his dick with his free hand, the one not clutched like a death curl on Brad’s wrist. He stroked fast and it took nearly no time for him to come, gasping in forced shallow breaths, come hitting his chin.
“Fuck.”
Brad slid his shoulders out from under Ray’s legs and let them down to fall on either side of him instead. He pulled out of the shuddering grip of Ray’s body and reared up with one knee on the bed so that he could angle his cock at Ray’s chest.
He watched the red start to fade in Ray’s face but linger at his cheeks, the sweat at his hairline, all the little marks that Nate had left on his body and the clouded look of adoration in his eyes as he looked back at Brad, at his face, not his cock.
That hazy look about him that made Brad grit his teeth and come over Ray’s chest, down on his stomach, unfortunately missing his face.
Brad caught himself above Ray with his unoccupied hand planted beside him, looking down at Ray as they both caught their breath.
He leaned in to kiss that wicked mouth, rubbing his come into Ray’s skin with his other hand against Ray’s stomach.
“Mm, that’s disgusting.” Ray said, quietly into Brad’s kiss, and Brad had to turn his head as he snorted a laugh.
That set Ray off, and fuck but did Brad love it when sex ended like this, laughing together over kisses.
“You’re mine, I just want everyone to know it.”
“Not necessary, big gay Brad.” Ray said with a sigh, stretching his arms but then bringing them around Brad’s neck, tugging until Brad acquiesced and lay down, his body pressed to Ray’s. “Everyone already knows I’m yours.”