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Win's about as comfortable as he's ever been in his entire life. He's reclined against what counts as his headboard, all his pillows and Team's bolster stacked behind him.
They're sweatily stuck together, belly to belly, Team's head on Win's thigh. Between keens, he really does make an effort to get Win off by suckling on his cock, but Win knows that Team gets a little pleasure drunk when they're like this. His brain fizzles out, connections no longer being made, and his vocabulary consists of Hia, more, please, yes, rinse and repeat.
Win loves it. He loves every single moment of it. He's greedy for it, the way he palms Team's cheeks apart, pushes until Team squirms with the uncomfortable stretch, digs his fingers into the flesh, circles his tongue over the bruised flesh where he's been leaving bite marks and hickeys.
They've been at it for ages, Team's rim loose and sloppy with spit and lube. His hole quivers when Win blows on it, opens so sweetly around the pressure of his tongue and fingers, stays gaping open when Win commands it.
Win slides two fingers inside again, just to feel, just to tease, to tap generously at Team's prostate, slowly, sweetly, no matter how much Team whines and tells Win that he's being mean, punishing Team for some imagined insolence. Win's chest is sticky with come and sweat, his chin and cheeks a mess of saliva and lube, too.
"Come on, one more," he whispers into Team's rim before diving in and lapping at the soft furl, licking between his fingers, spreading wide enough to fit a third in as well. Team shudders, keens, cries out that he can't, Hia, please, I-I-I, he shivers away, pushes back, pants into Win's thigh, leaves a string of saliva dripping onto the skin.
Team comes, of course he does, and he shakes so much that Win has to anchor an arm around his waist to keep him from sliding away. Team's stomach clenches, back bowing, causing his forehead to press painfully into Win's thigh.
It's been hours, most of their day spent right here, and Win feels greedy and giddy and wants to roll Team over onto his back, fuck his loose hole until he comes again, until Win comes inside him. He won't though; he's not a mean lover. He does, however, wait until Team's breathing is under control, before he reaches down, under Team's arm, and guides his cock into Team's pliant mouth.
Win suckles a fresh bruise onto Team's skin, mouths "Come on, baby, suck me off," and Team does as his Hia tells him. Obediently suckling the head, choking when he goes down too far, too quickly.
Win moans. Team's hips are twitching, cock growing hard against his chest. Win grins, cockily, thrusts his cock a little deeper into Team's mouth, says, "Get it nice and wet. Don't swallow, baby. I wanna fuck you with it," and Win keens at the filth coming from his own mouth. The image of using his own come as lube to fuck Team is what pushes him over the edge. He hears distant choking and spitting sounds, but his ears are ringing and his eyes are rolled all the way back in his head.
When he comes to, Team's already smeared Win's come onto his own hole. Win's pretty sure he's not getting any course work done for the rest of the weekend, but that's okay, he thinks, as his fingers join Team's.