Silly Ménage à Trois
Title: Silly Ménage à Trois
Author: Amanda, who goes by the aliasapodiopsys
Pairing: Danny Kurily/Ian Planet/Matt Flyzik
Rating: NC-17
Summary: “So what you’re saying is,” Matt says carefully, “I can... have him, as long as you’re there? So it’d be like a threesome.”
Disclaimer: do not own the characters even though sometimes i pretend to etc title and cut belong to Adam Lambert.
A/N: this is another one you can blame on Megan. she just gets ideas and basically forces them on me so it's like writing rape? idk man.
tumblr is here
The first time Ian finds out, he really isn’t supposed to. It’s not supposed to be a thing, especially not a thing that his boyfriend found out. They’re in an “established relationship”, whatever it is that that means. Either way, they’ve been together for about seven months now. Things are getting pretty serious. Sex isn’t a big deal between them, they’ve been sleeping together since the early stages in the relationship, so now they know what turns the other on and what makes them tick.
Ian thought that he made Danny tick, until when, in the middle of having sex, Ian’s cock kind of inside of the other man thrusting deep and slow, Danny moans, “Matt,” eyes closed and mouth open. He stills inside of him, staring down at his boyfriend with a shocked expression, Danny staring back at him with the same, if not more, amount of shock etched across his features. He pulls out, still kneeling in between his legs with a look of clear disbelief in his eyes and says, “What the fuck, you were thinking about Matt while I was fucking you?” Danny blinks slowly, trying to figure out what would be worse: admitting it or denying it.
“Well, I. Not exactly?” he tries instead, biting his lip as he stares wide eyed back at his boyfriend. He kind of may or may not be hoping that Ian will finish fucking him because he was so close and well, he is still hard, so. Ian blinks at him, one eyebrow still raised.
“What the fuck, Daniel,” he says, and that’s when Danny knows that he’s in trouble because he’s only ever been called Daniel one other time and that was when he accidentaly left his phone unlocked and Jack found the nudes that he sent him when they were off tour. “Matt? Our fucking tour manager? Has it always been like this? Thinking about him while I’m screwing you?”
“What? No!” Danny says, moving forward so he can push Ian down and pin him to the bed, because he knows him pretty well by now, and the second things start getting a little hairy he’s going to leave and sulk about it for days. So they need to get this all out now that it’s started. “Look, it’s almost always you, okay? But sometimes I think about Matt, Matt with me or Matt with you, because admit it, he’s fucking hot.”
Ian stares up at him for a minute, searching his eyes and face for some sort of lie. He doesn’t find it. “So it’s like,” he says slowly, mouth forming the words very deliberately. “A thing?” Danny can’t quite read his expression; Ian doesn’t know how he feels about it yet, his boyfriend thinking about another guy while they’re together, no matter how hot the other guy is.
“It’s like,” he says, pausing to think about how he wants to say it. “I love you, right? But I’m really like, attracted to him? It’s hard not to think about it, the way his mouth is and when he walks around our bus in just his boxers. It’s the way it was before us.”
He nods. Ian understands. “Do you think he’d -”
“No.” Danny cuts him off before the sentence is fully formed. “Don’t. He could fuck things up, we could fuck things up and end up without a job. Just, don’t.” He turns his head away so that Ian can’t see his eyes. He wants it more than he lets on, but he isn’t going to let it fuck them up.
&
Not a lot on the bus changes. Things go on as they usually do, except they’re more careful around Matt than they usually are. Danny is a little quieter around Matt, mostly watching him and being careful not to touch him too much, especially when clothes start disappearing after too many tequila shots. Ian watches Danny watch Matt, and starts to slowly see him through his boyfriends eyes.
He sees him when he’s tired in the morning with a days worth of scruff covering his cheeks, and it’s hot in the same way it’s hot on Danny and Danny thinks it hot on him. He sees him when he’s drunk with the rest of them, pupils blown wide as he leans against Ian and says, “You’re the best, no really, the best.” And he sees him early in the morning when he’s the only one up because Danny rolled over and incidentally pushed him out of the bunk, when Matt is still waking up and walking around in just boxers, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he searches for his first cup of coffee. In the early morning like that he’s got wrinkles from the sheets imprinted on his skin and he wears boxer briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, so it’s easy for Ian to imagine what it’d be like to have him hard and panting underneath him, biting his lipring and begging for more.
Ian sees what it is that Danny wants, and a small part of him wants it too.
&
The thing is, they don’t plan on telling Matt. Ever. The way Danny puts it, it’s an infatuation, and it’ll blow over with time. So they continue on with their lives, pretending that they don’t want their tourmanger the way they do in a threesome. Because the third person is supposed to be a stranger, someone you won’t have to see on a daily basis or the one who basically got you the job in the first place.
It doesn’t stop them from talking about it, behind closed doors and in bed and to each other. It’s their dirty little secret, the one that they don’t want anyone to find out, especially not a certain James Matthew Flyzik.
During the day, the doors between the hotel rooms are open and unlocked, leaving them to walk freely between the ten rooms that they have, all on the same hallway. They start drinking in Jack’s room and by the end of the night they’re in Vinny’s, sprawled across the bed and the chairs and the desk, Danny leaning heavily on Ian, mouthing at his neck. “I think we need to go now,” Ian says when Danny’s hand skims down his chest to press to the front of his pants. Vinny has been providing them with a steady stream of vodka and tequila and rum, and Danny is about as wasted as wasted gets.
They have the room at the very end of the hall, Matt’s room is on the other side. Ian tries to close the door between the rooms while also trying to manhandle Danny into the room. Danny is barely holding his own weight up, sliding out of Ian’s grip to sprawl across the floor. He doesn’t notice the way the door doesn’t click properly shut, instead staying in the state between almost-but-not-really closed.
“Danny,” Ian grunts, trying to lift him up and onto the bed. He finally moves with him, pulling him on top the second he’s hit the mattress. Hands slide down Ian’s back, and Danny kisses him with a lot more finesse than a far-from-sober man should possess. His tongue traces the seam of his lips, pressing inside to kiss him hot and wet, rubbing his tongue over the roof of his mouth. It sends a spark down Ian’s spine, and he pushes his hand up Danny’s shirt, making the buttons pop so it falls undone. He pushes him further up the bed until he’s in the middle of it, going for his belt and then his pants until he’s naked and spread out underneath him.
When Matt makes it back to his own room - which, yeah, his own room with a queen sized bed that he can totally sleep in the middle of because he’s the tourmanager and doesn’t need to share rooms on hotel nights - he notices the light coming through the cracked door that connects his to Danny and Ian’s. He moves over to the other end of the room, fingers closing around the handle. And it’s not like he looks through the crack on purpose, and he definitely didn’t hear it before, but now he can hear the way the bed in the other room is squeaking, the way Danny is moaning soft and low, and he can see what is definitely the long line of Ian’s bare back and ass and Danny’s legs connected around his lower back by his ankles.
His mouth is too dry all of a sudden, grip too tight on the door handle. And then he hears Ian say, “Is this how you would take it from Matt? Just like this, lie there and beg for it until he gives it to you?” He hears Danny’s answering cry, and thinks fuck, I am so fucked. “What if he wanted you to go down on him?” Ian asks in a low voice, one that Matt hasn’t heard before, one that’s clearly saved for the bedroom. He pictures Danny’s lips stretched around his cock before he can stop himself, and then realizes that he’s really fucking hard.
“Ian,” he hears Danny gasp, and he cracks the door open just a little bit more, carefully carefully carefully so that it doesn’t squeak and give him away. He wants (needs) to see them now. Matt can’t just close the door and go to bed and jerk off thinking about the two guitar techs who work for him and then pretend that he didn’t just see and hear that and didn’t jerk off thinking about it. He’s involved now, they’re talking about him, he needs to bear witness.
It’s the dumbest fucking thing he’s ever had the impulse to do. Matt presses the heel of his hand against the front of his pants, carefully undoes them until he can wrap his hand around his cock, going slightly slackjawed as he watches the couple in the other room. “Ian, please,” he hears Danny gasp again, voice rising in pitch, and he thinks, even if the door wasn’t open I would probably be hearing Danny anyway. “Yes,” he hears Danny say, and then the low moans that get louder and louder as Ian wraps his hand around his cock.
Matt spits into his hand quickly, making the slide easier and the pace faster. He’s listening to them, not hearing Ian’s words anymore since he’s dropped it to a dirty murmur, head bowed so his lips brush Danny’s ear, moving against the cartilage as he whispers filthy secrets. His teeth sink into his lower lip, trying not to make any noise. He watches the way Danny drags his fingers up Ian’s back, is sure that there’ll be angry red lines decorating his skin later. Danny arches up against him, arms curled over his shoulder and around his neck, and when he comes, he stares at Matt, meets his eye and moans Ian’s name loud enough for him to hear. His eyes widen and he chokes out a startled moan, and comes into his hand.
He vaguely hears Ian’s low groan as he comes. Danny stays the way he is, wrapped around Ian and staring at Matt until he remembers where he is and who he’s staring at, and blinks, closing the door with a careful click. Matt slumps against the floor and stays like that for a few moments, trying to regain himself and what little dignity he has left after Danny spying him spying on them. He finally moves over to the bed, kicks off his jeans and pulls off his t-shirt, using it to clean himself up, and then collapses against the mattress and crisp hotel sheets. Matt flings his arm across his eyes and tries hard to erase the past fifteen minutes out of his memory.
&
Danny doesn’t tell Ian that he saw Matt watching them, that he knows that he heard what he said. He stays quiet about it, instead catching the way Matt watches them now, much more aware of himself and of them, eyes dark and probing as he watches the couple sitting together on the sofa in the crew’s bus or leaning against an amp as they watch the band do soundcheck. And he may or may not egg him on a little, force him to look at them. When Ian kisses him and Matt is there he kisses him back fiercely and runs his hand through his hair, eyes open and on the tourmanager the whole time. He’s daring him to do something about it, double daring him because he knows and Danny knows that he wants because clearly they’re all there and Matt has gotten into the habit of staring at them with this intense look on his face.
It takes Danny being alone on the bus with his feet propped up on the table, shirt off in the cool air of the bus because it’s hot and humid outside, for Matt to snap, pulling him to his feet and pushing him roughly against the wall. “You need to stop whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing,” he says, eyes burning angrily. Danny gapes at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Stop what?” he asks, way, way too innocently.
Matt pushes him again, arms bracketing him in as he crowds him against the wall. “You need to stop flirting and staring and whatever else it is that you’re doing, because Ian will kill me if I try anything and I really don’t want to have to find new guitar techs. You know that I saw and I know that you saw me watching, so quit fucking pussy footing around me and acting like a fucking whore.” Danny blinks up at him, staring at his lips and the way his lipring glints as he talks, faster and faster. He leans up on his toes, closing the small distance between them with his lips, kissing him and then tugging on the piercing with his teeth, making Matt clench his fists where they’re pressed palm to wall.
One hand slides down the wall to cup the side of Danny’s face, kissing him back, hard and hot, teeth clacking when they surge together again. Kissing Matt is better than all the times that Danny has fantasized about it; it’s a lot different from kissing Ian. His mouth is shaped differently and his lips are drier, lipring pressing cool against his own lips until the metal heats up between them. “God, fuck,” Matt bites out, rubbing his tongue over the roof of Danny’s mouth. “Ian is going to fucking kill me.”
They both hear a dry cough from their left and they break apart, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Ian is standing in the middle of the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised. “That depends,” he says slowly, staring Matt down as he takes another step closer, standing on discarded shirts and clothes and really not caring. “If you were planning on sharing him with me, or just taking him for yourself.”
It’s Matt’s turn to gape at Ian, eyes wide. “I wasn’t -“ he says, and then closes his mouth, drawing himself up so he’s standing at full height. He narrows his eyes. “Sharing?”
“Yes,” Ian rolls his eyes. “Sharing. Danny kind of has this thing for you and he can’t really get over it and therefore he kind of inflicted it on me. And the only way you’re getting close to him like that is if I’m there, so. Sharing.” He narrows his eyes back at Matt, daring him to say something. Anything.
“So what you’re saying is,” Matt says carefully, taking a step back to let his eyes flicker between Danny and Ian. Ian is looking at Danny. Danny is looking at him. “I can... have him, as long as you’re there? So it’d be like a threesome.” They’re all silent for a moment, and then Matt speaks up again: “I thought the third person was supposed to be a stranger?”
The other two share a look, have a conversation silently that Matt can’t follow. “It should be,” Ian agrees for the both of them. “But we don’t always play by the rules.” They’re standing close to each other, Danny’s shoulder brushing Ian’s. Matt stands a few feet away, watching the two, feeling like this is some sort of out of body experience and like he didn’t just get offered to have a threesome with two other guys - which, for the record, he’s never done before. There was one time with Kendra and another guy, but she was in the middle, like. It’s different with three guys.
Jack appears as a blessing in disguise, running through the front lounge and then up the stairs and back down, pushing through the hallway that the other three men are currently occupying. “Guys,” he says, and then looks between the three, stopping for a second. “Wait, shit, am I interrupting something?”
“Nah,” Ian says, leaning against the wall space between two bunks, arms crossed lazily across his chest. “Not really.”
A look of relief crosses Jack’s face before he sobers up again, and says in all seriousness: “Tay Jardine totally just invited me back to her bus, do any of you guys have a condom?”
&
Things are more strained between them after. They’re all seeing and knowing and wanting, and they can’t do anything about it. They don’t have time alone again, constantly moving and surrounded by the rest of the band and crew and everyone else they’re touring with. Danny is positive he said that the lifestyle they lead is lonely. That’s the biggest amount of bullshit he’s ever heard. Even him and Ian are tense around each other, highstrung from the tension that everyone is feeling although most of them don’t know the reason why.
They have a blowout the day before they all have a much needed day off and hotel night, over something really small like who ate the last of the nutella or something. They aren’t really sure how it starts, but it ends with Danny walking out and slamming the door of the bus hard enough that the walls shake. In the end it’s just a good thing because by the time they get to the hotel room that they’re sharing they’ve managed to calm down and are ready to kiss and makeup.
And by kiss they mean make out heavily until Matt walks in, kind-of-not-really on accident. Matt’s the one handing out room keys, so of course he has the one connecting to theirs, rendering him free to come and go between the rooms as he pleases. He abuses that power, opening the door to see Danny on top of Ian on the bed, hands up his shirt as their tongues twist and press. They don’t stop kissing, even though they both hear the squeak of the door hinges as it opens. Matt watches them, hesitating and doubting that he’s actually been given to watch and -
participate.
“Well?” Danny says, twisting around to look at the tour manager, Ian watching him closely from underneath his boyfriend. “Are you just going to stare, or.” He sounds a lot more confident than he actually is, Ian can here the way his voice cracks on the or, just as scared that they’ll fuck things up over this as the others are. He touches his wrist and their eyes meet, and somehow that one look that Matt witnesses feels much more intimate than watching them kissing just now, or seeing them having sex the other night. He says, “Come here,” in a voice a little less demanding and lacking the confidence from before, reaching out to tug Matt forwards so his knees brace against the bed once he’s close enough.
Danny shares another look with Ian, and he nods, just barely, a tiny movement of his head that could be easily missed. He moves over so he isn’t straddling him anymore, up on his knees so he’s more or less the same height as Matt. “Hey,” he says softly, curving his hands around his neck, leaning up and kissing him carefully. Matt is equally careful, not pushing and taking whatever Danny is giving him until he hears Ian saying from where he’s still lying on the bed, “He isn’t going to break, yano.” He pulls back then, breaking the kiss to look at Ian.
“You’re - you’re sure this is okay?” he asks, wanting to make sure that it’s all clear and out of the way before they’re suddenly there and Ian decides to break it off. He nods. Matt is less sure of where he stands with Ian than where he is with Danny. With Danny, he knows that he’s basically the one who started all of this, that he’s the one who really wants. Ian is like - an accessory to murder, or something. Danny moves to pull him onto the bed, backing up until he’s kneeling next to Ian, Matt kneeling a few inches away.
It’s quiet for a moment, each measuring the others up, testing the water silent. “Could you guys - I mean, would you?” Danny asks tentatively, glancing between the other two men, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Matt and Ian look at each other, and Ian pushes himself up into a sitting position, making a small shrugging motion. Their kiss is a lot different to the one Danny and Matt had, it’s harder and more rough and it’s clear that both of them want to be the dominant one. Danny watches as Ian bites down hard on Matt’s lip, pulling on his lipring the same way he did back in the bus hallway. Matt fists one hand through the dark curls of his hair in retaliation, twisting the strands through his fingers as he licks into his mouth.
When they pull back, panting with pupils blown wide they both turn to look at Danny, who’s still kneeling to the side of them, palming himself slowly through his jeans. Watching them was like... some really really awesome wet dream come to life. They glance at each other and then both grab one wrist, pulling his arms above his head and pinning him down, one on either side.
Ian’s tongue traces the shell of his ear, making Danny make a soft, broken noise in the back of his throat. ”Why don’t we let Matt fuck you?” he asks rhetorically, glancing up to see him staring at them, eyes dark and intense. “We both know you’d like that, so I think I’ll prep you real good while Mouse blows you, hm?” Matt makes a little involuntary noise at the name that Ian calls him, nodding in agreement to the plan. “Here,” Ian says, pulling his shirt off and then taking one of his hands and curling it around the slats in the headboard, doing the same with the other. He leans over and kisses his wrist, the crease of his elbow and then his shoulder, kissing his lips before he works his way down his body, pressing open mouthed kisses down his chest to his hips. Ian works on his belt and getting his pants off while Matt leans over again, kissing him with lips and tongue and teeth, his lipring pressing cool against Danny’s lips.
He’s so distracted by this unfamiliar way that Ian is kissing him that he’s almost surprised by Ian’s fingers pressing cool against his entrance, two pressing in at the same time. Danny moans into Matt’s mouth and Matt swallows the noise willingly, smoothing one hand down his chest and side to stop at his hip, feeling the way he’s pressing down against Ian’s fingers. Breaking the kiss, he mouths at his jaw and neck, and then down lower, teasing at the dip in his collarbones and then paying close attention to each of his nipples, biting and licking and sucking gently until he’s arching his chest and moaning for more, more fingers and more of Matt’s mouth anywhere, anywhere. Ian and Matt look at each and share a smirk, and they’re careful to time it, counting one-two-three. Matt does down on him at the same time as Ian adds a third finger and Danny shouts, hands flying from the headboard to curve around the back of his skull, guiding him up and down slowly, testing his limits to see how far down he’ll go.
(As it turns out, Matt can go down like, really far, to the point where he’s about one step away from deepthroating.)
“Ian,” Danny pants as his boyfriend twists his wrist viciously, rubbing his fingertips back and forth over his prostate. He thinks he’s a little delirious at this point, with the way Ian is just making pleasure spark up his spine to spread out across every single fucking nerve ending in his body and Matt’s lips and tongue working over his cock. “I’m gonna - gonna, you need to stop, fuck.” Matt lifts his eyes to look at him and Danny looks down at the same time, groaning deep at the way his mouth is stretched around the girth and how his eyelashes flutter dangerously. He tongues at the slit and then pulls back and drops a kiss to the head of his dick, smirking up at Danny the whole time. Ian twists his fingers one more time, pulling them out and biting the inside of his thigh playfully.
They’re kissing again, and Ian gets off of the bed and strips on the way to the suitcase, grabbing a box of condoms out of the front pocket. The bed dips under his weight when he gets back on it, on Matt’s side this time, touching his side and curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt as he pulls him away from his boyfriend so he can help him undress. “C’mere,” he mutters, opening the box of Trojan Magnum and ripping a condom off of the string. “I guessed your size,” Ian smirks eyeing Matt’s junk with one raised eyebrow. He almost, almost flushes. His hips jerk up when Ian rolls it down over his cock and then spreads lube across him, pressing his fingers into Danny’s ass one more time just for good measure.
Matt settles in between Danny’s legs, staring wide eyed down at him because he just realized that yeah, Ian just put a condom on him and, yeah, he’s about to fuck his boyfriend. He glances at Ian involuntarily and he nods, tipping his head at Danny who’s watching him. Ian recognizes the slightly hazy expression that’s in his eyes, making them a deeper shade of blue than they usually are. They’re his bedroom eyes, the ones that he’s used being for him and him alone, and it’s almost unsettling watching him use them on someone else.
“C’mon,” Danny says softly, hooking his arms underneath Matt’s, pulling him closer. He swallows and looks down, lining up the necessary body parts and pushes in slowly, chest tightening because it feels fucking good, it feels - it feels good. “Fuck,” Danny chokes out and Matt rests his weight on his elbows, all too aware of Ian watching them.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing his lips over his cheeks.
“Yeah,” Danny says breathlessly. “It’s just, you’re a little more than what I’m used to.” Something like a laugh escapes his throat, and Ian leans over, linking their fingers together so that he can at least be touching him while someone else fucks him.
He squeezes his hand light, and then says in an almost conversational voice, “You can just go, you know. He won’t complain.” Matt looks up at him where he’s settled on the bed next to Danny, and nods, rocking his hips forward experimentally. It’s his turn to almost choke, and he rests his head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of Danny’s skin. He starts again, drawing back before thrusting back in, trying to go deep so that he really feels it.
Moving his hands to his hips, his rhythm stutters for a few moments, shifting so he has a better angle to fuck him with. “You feel so good,” he says in this gravelly voice, hands pressing bruises to the skin on his hips. His thumbs sweep back and forth, directly over the bone which is slowly driving Danny crazy. “I want to fuck you for hours, maybe let you ride me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He nods, gasping in little ah ah ah’s because he can’t really say anything else right now. “Maybe I could bend you over the desk so you could watch yourself take it in the mirror,” Matt intones, grinding his hips deep and filthy. Ian makes a noise in the back of his throat, skimming the hand that isn’t linked with Danny’s down his side and crossing his hip, stroking his cock light before going down further, fingers pressing at where he’s stretched around Matt.
“Fuck,” he says quietly, rolling onto his side so he can properly wrap his fingers around his boyfriend’s dick, stroking slowly and off-beat to the rhythm that Matt has set. He strokes slowly, palming over the head and biting at his shoulder. Danny arches suddenly, back bowing up against Matt so they’re pressed chest to chest. He feels Matt grinning into his neck, pressing in deep and grinding his hips so he’s just rubbing against his prostate. The room seems to spin around him and his vision swims, blurring at the edges as he stares up at the ceiling, a litany of oh oh oh’s spilling past his lips. Ian grips his cock, jerking him almost exactly in time with Matt now, lips brushing his shoulder and neck. There’s barely a warning when Danny comes, digging half-crescents into Matt’s shoulders with his nails. His come stripes his chest and covers Ian’s hand, vision whiting out for a few seconds.
When he comes to, he opens his eyes to see Ian and Matt making out above him, as rough as they were before. Danny groans softly, and he watches as Ian pulls back, one hand fisting Matt’s hair. He looks at Danny for a second and then says slowly to Matt, “Can I fuck you?”
“I,” Matt starts, looking a little unsure, because he’s bottomed for all of three guys before and he wasn’t that crazy about it, but this is Ian and Danny is there, fucked out and watching. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He kisses him on the mouth, pushing his tongue past Danny’s lips to lick into his mouth as he pulls out, swallowing the tiny noise that he makes. The condom is tied off and tossed in the general direction of the trashcan before Ian is pushing Matt down on his back, tapping at his kneecaps to get him to spread his legs. Lube drips cool and wet onto his fingers and he blows on them to heat it up a little, pressing two in at once.
It burns, the stretch of going from nothing to two at once, and Matt cries out, curling his fingers around the sheets and twisting. “Shh,” Ian says in a soothing voice, smoothing a gentle hand up his leg and across his lower stomach. He twists his fingers carefully, trying a few times before he manages to press them right against his prostate. A very undignified noise escapes his lips (he has very little dignity left at this point, what was left of it from last time was pretty much stripped from him the moment he walked through the adjoining door) and he presses his hips down, gasping out, “More, fuck, again.”
Ian fingerfucks him open quickly but thoroughly, jumping to three fingers before he deems him well enough prepared. He rips open a condom and puts it on himself, and then Matt’s hand is there, lube covered hand fisting his dick slowly a few times before he wipes his fingers on the sheets and leans back down. Danny and Matt are kissing, Danny sucking on his tongue as he pushes in. “On a scale of one to ten how flexible are you?” Ian says, breath shallow, pupils blown wide as he looks down at Matt.
“I - what, uh,” Matt says, trying to make sense and find the relevance in what Ian is asking while his dick is in his ass. “Eight?”
“Awesome.” Ian grins breathlessly and then pulls out, maneuvering one of his legs so it’s hooked over his shoulder. Matt groans loud and low once he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against his ass. With the way that his leg is over his shoulder the angle is different, better, letting Ian fuck him harder and deeper and much, much more intense. He digs the heel of his foot into the middle of his back, his other leg bent at the knee with his foot pressed against the mattress. Ian turns his head to the side, sucking a deep purple mark onto the lower part of the inside of his thigh.
“Fuck, Mouse,” he says breathlessly, and Matt moans, tipping his head back so the column of his neck is exposed. He doubts that he’ll ever get rid of that nickname now, and no matter who uses it (he doubts anyone except for Ian or maybe Danny will, though) he’ll always think back to this. He definitely isn’t expecting it when Danny presses a line of kisses up his neck, leaving a sharp bite to the sensitive skin behind his ear. His tongue traces the shell of his ear, pointing the end so it goes through his black gauges.
Matt twists his head to the side, reaching with one hand and pulling Danny’s facing towards him so he can kiss him hot, and then Ian presses his hips in deep and grinds just right so that his whole body starts and he forgets how to kiss Danny for a second. The one who isn’t being fucked grins against Matt’s lips and kisses the corner of his lips and then draws back, taking Ian’s face in both of his hands and kissing him so intimately that if he weren’t being fucked by Ian at this very moment he’d feel like he wasn’t supposed to see it. Danny ends the kiss with a peppering of smaller kisses, short pecks until he pulls away and lies down on his stomach, propping his chin in his hand to watch them again.
“I’m not -“ Matt starts, and Ian nods, cutting him off with a sharp thrust and “I know, me neither.”
It gets messy and fast after that, a handful of thrusts before they come almost at exactly the same time, their lips connected and moaning low into each other’s mouths. When they look over Danny is grinding his hips into the mattress slowly, and Ian smirks, kissing Matt deeply again before pulling out and discarding the condom in the same fashion that Matt did, moving over to where Danny is and leaving Matt to recover from fucking Danny and being fucked by Ian and watching the two of them together now.
“Hey,” he says to Danny, and he rolls over without even thinking about it, letting Ian wrap his hand around his cock. They kiss again, and Ian starts jerking him off slowly, moving his mouth so he can use it for other things. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks, not expecting more than the hum that he gets. “And you’re hard again so soon just from watching me fucking Matt, was it that hot? Did you like it that much?” He looks directly over at him, looks Matt in the eye and says, “Maybe we’ll have to do this again, except next time I’d really like to watch you riding him. Maybe he’ll rim you if you’re nice,” he says, dropping his voice to a husky murmur that even makes Matt want to go again, and Danny comes on the spot.
He wipes his hand off on the sheet and thinks vaguely that they must be pretty gunky by now. Part of him pities the person who does laundry for the hotel. Danny flings an arm across his eyes and mutters something about Ian and his fucking mouth and Matt laughs, looking almost startled by the noise in the room. It sounds out of place after all the fucking and sex and sex noises. Ian reaches over the edge of the bed and flings a pair of boxers at Matt and then gets out and goes over to his and Danny’s shared suitcase, getting out a pair for each of them.
They all crash on the king bed, and Matt may or may not have accidently mixed up the room orders and asked for a king instead of a queen for the couple’s room, but that’s okay because that means that there’s more space for the three of them to lie there together.
“I was serious, you know,” Ian says into the darkness after the lights are out and they’re all just there, sheets pulled up over them, one of his arms wrapped around Danny’s waist where he’s lying in the middle of them. “It could - we could do this again.”
Matt smiles and rolls over onto his side so he’s face to face with Danny, and if he props himself up on his elbow, facing Ian too. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’d like that.”
A/N II: yeah, this definitely wasn't supposed to be +6000 words long. It kind of grew wings and flew away by itself.
Author: Amanda, who goes by the aliasapodiopsys
Pairing: Danny Kurily/Ian Planet/Matt Flyzik
Rating: NC-17
Summary: “So what you’re saying is,” Matt says carefully, “I can... have him, as long as you’re there? So it’d be like a threesome.”
Disclaimer: do not own the characters even though sometimes i pretend to etc title and cut belong to Adam Lambert.
A/N: this is another one you can blame on Megan. she just gets ideas and basically forces them on me so it's like writing rape? idk man.
tumblr is here
The first time Ian finds out, he really isn’t supposed to. It’s not supposed to be a thing, especially not a thing that his boyfriend found out. They’re in an “established relationship”, whatever it is that that means. Either way, they’ve been together for about seven months now. Things are getting pretty serious. Sex isn’t a big deal between them, they’ve been sleeping together since the early stages in the relationship, so now they know what turns the other on and what makes them tick.
Ian thought that he made Danny tick, until when, in the middle of having sex, Ian’s cock kind of inside of the other man thrusting deep and slow, Danny moans, “Matt,” eyes closed and mouth open. He stills inside of him, staring down at his boyfriend with a shocked expression, Danny staring back at him with the same, if not more, amount of shock etched across his features. He pulls out, still kneeling in between his legs with a look of clear disbelief in his eyes and says, “What the fuck, you were thinking about Matt while I was fucking you?” Danny blinks slowly, trying to figure out what would be worse: admitting it or denying it.
“Well, I. Not exactly?” he tries instead, biting his lip as he stares wide eyed back at his boyfriend. He kind of may or may not be hoping that Ian will finish fucking him because he was so close and well, he is still hard, so. Ian blinks at him, one eyebrow still raised.
“What the fuck, Daniel,” he says, and that’s when Danny knows that he’s in trouble because he’s only ever been called Daniel one other time and that was when he accidentaly left his phone unlocked and Jack found the nudes that he sent him when they were off tour. “Matt? Our fucking tour manager? Has it always been like this? Thinking about him while I’m screwing you?”
“What? No!” Danny says, moving forward so he can push Ian down and pin him to the bed, because he knows him pretty well by now, and the second things start getting a little hairy he’s going to leave and sulk about it for days. So they need to get this all out now that it’s started. “Look, it’s almost always you, okay? But sometimes I think about Matt, Matt with me or Matt with you, because admit it, he’s fucking hot.”
Ian stares up at him for a minute, searching his eyes and face for some sort of lie. He doesn’t find it. “So it’s like,” he says slowly, mouth forming the words very deliberately. “A thing?” Danny can’t quite read his expression; Ian doesn’t know how he feels about it yet, his boyfriend thinking about another guy while they’re together, no matter how hot the other guy is.
“It’s like,” he says, pausing to think about how he wants to say it. “I love you, right? But I’m really like, attracted to him? It’s hard not to think about it, the way his mouth is and when he walks around our bus in just his boxers. It’s the way it was before us.”
He nods. Ian understands. “Do you think he’d -”
“No.” Danny cuts him off before the sentence is fully formed. “Don’t. He could fuck things up, we could fuck things up and end up without a job. Just, don’t.” He turns his head away so that Ian can’t see his eyes. He wants it more than he lets on, but he isn’t going to let it fuck them up.
&
Not a lot on the bus changes. Things go on as they usually do, except they’re more careful around Matt than they usually are. Danny is a little quieter around Matt, mostly watching him and being careful not to touch him too much, especially when clothes start disappearing after too many tequila shots. Ian watches Danny watch Matt, and starts to slowly see him through his boyfriends eyes.
He sees him when he’s tired in the morning with a days worth of scruff covering his cheeks, and it’s hot in the same way it’s hot on Danny and Danny thinks it hot on him. He sees him when he’s drunk with the rest of them, pupils blown wide as he leans against Ian and says, “You’re the best, no really, the best.” And he sees him early in the morning when he’s the only one up because Danny rolled over and incidentally pushed him out of the bunk, when Matt is still waking up and walking around in just boxers, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he searches for his first cup of coffee. In the early morning like that he’s got wrinkles from the sheets imprinted on his skin and he wears boxer briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, so it’s easy for Ian to imagine what it’d be like to have him hard and panting underneath him, biting his lipring and begging for more.
Ian sees what it is that Danny wants, and a small part of him wants it too.
&
The thing is, they don’t plan on telling Matt. Ever. The way Danny puts it, it’s an infatuation, and it’ll blow over with time. So they continue on with their lives, pretending that they don’t want their tourmanger the way they do in a threesome. Because the third person is supposed to be a stranger, someone you won’t have to see on a daily basis or the one who basically got you the job in the first place.
It doesn’t stop them from talking about it, behind closed doors and in bed and to each other. It’s their dirty little secret, the one that they don’t want anyone to find out, especially not a certain James Matthew Flyzik.
During the day, the doors between the hotel rooms are open and unlocked, leaving them to walk freely between the ten rooms that they have, all on the same hallway. They start drinking in Jack’s room and by the end of the night they’re in Vinny’s, sprawled across the bed and the chairs and the desk, Danny leaning heavily on Ian, mouthing at his neck. “I think we need to go now,” Ian says when Danny’s hand skims down his chest to press to the front of his pants. Vinny has been providing them with a steady stream of vodka and tequila and rum, and Danny is about as wasted as wasted gets.
They have the room at the very end of the hall, Matt’s room is on the other side. Ian tries to close the door between the rooms while also trying to manhandle Danny into the room. Danny is barely holding his own weight up, sliding out of Ian’s grip to sprawl across the floor. He doesn’t notice the way the door doesn’t click properly shut, instead staying in the state between almost-but-not-really closed.
“Danny,” Ian grunts, trying to lift him up and onto the bed. He finally moves with him, pulling him on top the second he’s hit the mattress. Hands slide down Ian’s back, and Danny kisses him with a lot more finesse than a far-from-sober man should possess. His tongue traces the seam of his lips, pressing inside to kiss him hot and wet, rubbing his tongue over the roof of his mouth. It sends a spark down Ian’s spine, and he pushes his hand up Danny’s shirt, making the buttons pop so it falls undone. He pushes him further up the bed until he’s in the middle of it, going for his belt and then his pants until he’s naked and spread out underneath him.
When Matt makes it back to his own room - which, yeah, his own room with a queen sized bed that he can totally sleep in the middle of because he’s the tourmanager and doesn’t need to share rooms on hotel nights - he notices the light coming through the cracked door that connects his to Danny and Ian’s. He moves over to the other end of the room, fingers closing around the handle. And it’s not like he looks through the crack on purpose, and he definitely didn’t hear it before, but now he can hear the way the bed in the other room is squeaking, the way Danny is moaning soft and low, and he can see what is definitely the long line of Ian’s bare back and ass and Danny’s legs connected around his lower back by his ankles.
His mouth is too dry all of a sudden, grip too tight on the door handle. And then he hears Ian say, “Is this how you would take it from Matt? Just like this, lie there and beg for it until he gives it to you?” He hears Danny’s answering cry, and thinks fuck, I am so fucked. “What if he wanted you to go down on him?” Ian asks in a low voice, one that Matt hasn’t heard before, one that’s clearly saved for the bedroom. He pictures Danny’s lips stretched around his cock before he can stop himself, and then realizes that he’s really fucking hard.
“Ian,” he hears Danny gasp, and he cracks the door open just a little bit more, carefully carefully carefully so that it doesn’t squeak and give him away. He wants (needs) to see them now. Matt can’t just close the door and go to bed and jerk off thinking about the two guitar techs who work for him and then pretend that he didn’t just see and hear that and didn’t jerk off thinking about it. He’s involved now, they’re talking about him, he needs to bear witness.
It’s the dumbest fucking thing he’s ever had the impulse to do. Matt presses the heel of his hand against the front of his pants, carefully undoes them until he can wrap his hand around his cock, going slightly slackjawed as he watches the couple in the other room. “Ian, please,” he hears Danny gasp again, voice rising in pitch, and he thinks, even if the door wasn’t open I would probably be hearing Danny anyway. “Yes,” he hears Danny say, and then the low moans that get louder and louder as Ian wraps his hand around his cock.
Matt spits into his hand quickly, making the slide easier and the pace faster. He’s listening to them, not hearing Ian’s words anymore since he’s dropped it to a dirty murmur, head bowed so his lips brush Danny’s ear, moving against the cartilage as he whispers filthy secrets. His teeth sink into his lower lip, trying not to make any noise. He watches the way Danny drags his fingers up Ian’s back, is sure that there’ll be angry red lines decorating his skin later. Danny arches up against him, arms curled over his shoulder and around his neck, and when he comes, he stares at Matt, meets his eye and moans Ian’s name loud enough for him to hear. His eyes widen and he chokes out a startled moan, and comes into his hand.
He vaguely hears Ian’s low groan as he comes. Danny stays the way he is, wrapped around Ian and staring at Matt until he remembers where he is and who he’s staring at, and blinks, closing the door with a careful click. Matt slumps against the floor and stays like that for a few moments, trying to regain himself and what little dignity he has left after Danny spying him spying on them. He finally moves over to the bed, kicks off his jeans and pulls off his t-shirt, using it to clean himself up, and then collapses against the mattress and crisp hotel sheets. Matt flings his arm across his eyes and tries hard to erase the past fifteen minutes out of his memory.
&
Danny doesn’t tell Ian that he saw Matt watching them, that he knows that he heard what he said. He stays quiet about it, instead catching the way Matt watches them now, much more aware of himself and of them, eyes dark and probing as he watches the couple sitting together on the sofa in the crew’s bus or leaning against an amp as they watch the band do soundcheck. And he may or may not egg him on a little, force him to look at them. When Ian kisses him and Matt is there he kisses him back fiercely and runs his hand through his hair, eyes open and on the tourmanager the whole time. He’s daring him to do something about it, double daring him because he knows and Danny knows that he wants because clearly they’re all there and Matt has gotten into the habit of staring at them with this intense look on his face.
It takes Danny being alone on the bus with his feet propped up on the table, shirt off in the cool air of the bus because it’s hot and humid outside, for Matt to snap, pulling him to his feet and pushing him roughly against the wall. “You need to stop whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing,” he says, eyes burning angrily. Danny gapes at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Stop what?” he asks, way, way too innocently.
Matt pushes him again, arms bracketing him in as he crowds him against the wall. “You need to stop flirting and staring and whatever else it is that you’re doing, because Ian will kill me if I try anything and I really don’t want to have to find new guitar techs. You know that I saw and I know that you saw me watching, so quit fucking pussy footing around me and acting like a fucking whore.” Danny blinks up at him, staring at his lips and the way his lipring glints as he talks, faster and faster. He leans up on his toes, closing the small distance between them with his lips, kissing him and then tugging on the piercing with his teeth, making Matt clench his fists where they’re pressed palm to wall.
One hand slides down the wall to cup the side of Danny’s face, kissing him back, hard and hot, teeth clacking when they surge together again. Kissing Matt is better than all the times that Danny has fantasized about it; it’s a lot different from kissing Ian. His mouth is shaped differently and his lips are drier, lipring pressing cool against his own lips until the metal heats up between them. “God, fuck,” Matt bites out, rubbing his tongue over the roof of Danny’s mouth. “Ian is going to fucking kill me.”
They both hear a dry cough from their left and they break apart, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Ian is standing in the middle of the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised. “That depends,” he says slowly, staring Matt down as he takes another step closer, standing on discarded shirts and clothes and really not caring. “If you were planning on sharing him with me, or just taking him for yourself.”
It’s Matt’s turn to gape at Ian, eyes wide. “I wasn’t -“ he says, and then closes his mouth, drawing himself up so he’s standing at full height. He narrows his eyes. “Sharing?”
“Yes,” Ian rolls his eyes. “Sharing. Danny kind of has this thing for you and he can’t really get over it and therefore he kind of inflicted it on me. And the only way you’re getting close to him like that is if I’m there, so. Sharing.” He narrows his eyes back at Matt, daring him to say something. Anything.
“So what you’re saying is,” Matt says carefully, taking a step back to let his eyes flicker between Danny and Ian. Ian is looking at Danny. Danny is looking at him. “I can... have him, as long as you’re there? So it’d be like a threesome.” They’re all silent for a moment, and then Matt speaks up again: “I thought the third person was supposed to be a stranger?”
The other two share a look, have a conversation silently that Matt can’t follow. “It should be,” Ian agrees for the both of them. “But we don’t always play by the rules.” They’re standing close to each other, Danny’s shoulder brushing Ian’s. Matt stands a few feet away, watching the two, feeling like this is some sort of out of body experience and like he didn’t just get offered to have a threesome with two other guys - which, for the record, he’s never done before. There was one time with Kendra and another guy, but she was in the middle, like. It’s different with three guys.
Jack appears as a blessing in disguise, running through the front lounge and then up the stairs and back down, pushing through the hallway that the other three men are currently occupying. “Guys,” he says, and then looks between the three, stopping for a second. “Wait, shit, am I interrupting something?”
“Nah,” Ian says, leaning against the wall space between two bunks, arms crossed lazily across his chest. “Not really.”
A look of relief crosses Jack’s face before he sobers up again, and says in all seriousness: “Tay Jardine totally just invited me back to her bus, do any of you guys have a condom?”
&
Things are more strained between them after. They’re all seeing and knowing and wanting, and they can’t do anything about it. They don’t have time alone again, constantly moving and surrounded by the rest of the band and crew and everyone else they’re touring with. Danny is positive he said that the lifestyle they lead is lonely. That’s the biggest amount of bullshit he’s ever heard. Even him and Ian are tense around each other, highstrung from the tension that everyone is feeling although most of them don’t know the reason why.
They have a blowout the day before they all have a much needed day off and hotel night, over something really small like who ate the last of the nutella or something. They aren’t really sure how it starts, but it ends with Danny walking out and slamming the door of the bus hard enough that the walls shake. In the end it’s just a good thing because by the time they get to the hotel room that they’re sharing they’ve managed to calm down and are ready to kiss and makeup.
And by kiss they mean make out heavily until Matt walks in, kind-of-not-really on accident. Matt’s the one handing out room keys, so of course he has the one connecting to theirs, rendering him free to come and go between the rooms as he pleases. He abuses that power, opening the door to see Danny on top of Ian on the bed, hands up his shirt as their tongues twist and press. They don’t stop kissing, even though they both hear the squeak of the door hinges as it opens. Matt watches them, hesitating and doubting that he’s actually been given to watch and -
participate.
“Well?” Danny says, twisting around to look at the tour manager, Ian watching him closely from underneath his boyfriend. “Are you just going to stare, or.” He sounds a lot more confident than he actually is, Ian can here the way his voice cracks on the or, just as scared that they’ll fuck things up over this as the others are. He touches his wrist and their eyes meet, and somehow that one look that Matt witnesses feels much more intimate than watching them kissing just now, or seeing them having sex the other night. He says, “Come here,” in a voice a little less demanding and lacking the confidence from before, reaching out to tug Matt forwards so his knees brace against the bed once he’s close enough.
Danny shares another look with Ian, and he nods, just barely, a tiny movement of his head that could be easily missed. He moves over so he isn’t straddling him anymore, up on his knees so he’s more or less the same height as Matt. “Hey,” he says softly, curving his hands around his neck, leaning up and kissing him carefully. Matt is equally careful, not pushing and taking whatever Danny is giving him until he hears Ian saying from where he’s still lying on the bed, “He isn’t going to break, yano.” He pulls back then, breaking the kiss to look at Ian.
“You’re - you’re sure this is okay?” he asks, wanting to make sure that it’s all clear and out of the way before they’re suddenly there and Ian decides to break it off. He nods. Matt is less sure of where he stands with Ian than where he is with Danny. With Danny, he knows that he’s basically the one who started all of this, that he’s the one who really wants. Ian is like - an accessory to murder, or something. Danny moves to pull him onto the bed, backing up until he’s kneeling next to Ian, Matt kneeling a few inches away.
It’s quiet for a moment, each measuring the others up, testing the water silent. “Could you guys - I mean, would you?” Danny asks tentatively, glancing between the other two men, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Matt and Ian look at each other, and Ian pushes himself up into a sitting position, making a small shrugging motion. Their kiss is a lot different to the one Danny and Matt had, it’s harder and more rough and it’s clear that both of them want to be the dominant one. Danny watches as Ian bites down hard on Matt’s lip, pulling on his lipring the same way he did back in the bus hallway. Matt fists one hand through the dark curls of his hair in retaliation, twisting the strands through his fingers as he licks into his mouth.
When they pull back, panting with pupils blown wide they both turn to look at Danny, who’s still kneeling to the side of them, palming himself slowly through his jeans. Watching them was like... some really really awesome wet dream come to life. They glance at each other and then both grab one wrist, pulling his arms above his head and pinning him down, one on either side.
Ian’s tongue traces the shell of his ear, making Danny make a soft, broken noise in the back of his throat. ”Why don’t we let Matt fuck you?” he asks rhetorically, glancing up to see him staring at them, eyes dark and intense. “We both know you’d like that, so I think I’ll prep you real good while Mouse blows you, hm?” Matt makes a little involuntary noise at the name that Ian calls him, nodding in agreement to the plan. “Here,” Ian says, pulling his shirt off and then taking one of his hands and curling it around the slats in the headboard, doing the same with the other. He leans over and kisses his wrist, the crease of his elbow and then his shoulder, kissing his lips before he works his way down his body, pressing open mouthed kisses down his chest to his hips. Ian works on his belt and getting his pants off while Matt leans over again, kissing him with lips and tongue and teeth, his lipring pressing cool against Danny’s lips.
He’s so distracted by this unfamiliar way that Ian is kissing him that he’s almost surprised by Ian’s fingers pressing cool against his entrance, two pressing in at the same time. Danny moans into Matt’s mouth and Matt swallows the noise willingly, smoothing one hand down his chest and side to stop at his hip, feeling the way he’s pressing down against Ian’s fingers. Breaking the kiss, he mouths at his jaw and neck, and then down lower, teasing at the dip in his collarbones and then paying close attention to each of his nipples, biting and licking and sucking gently until he’s arching his chest and moaning for more, more fingers and more of Matt’s mouth anywhere, anywhere. Ian and Matt look at each and share a smirk, and they’re careful to time it, counting one-two-three. Matt does down on him at the same time as Ian adds a third finger and Danny shouts, hands flying from the headboard to curve around the back of his skull, guiding him up and down slowly, testing his limits to see how far down he’ll go.
(As it turns out, Matt can go down like, really far, to the point where he’s about one step away from deepthroating.)
“Ian,” Danny pants as his boyfriend twists his wrist viciously, rubbing his fingertips back and forth over his prostate. He thinks he’s a little delirious at this point, with the way Ian is just making pleasure spark up his spine to spread out across every single fucking nerve ending in his body and Matt’s lips and tongue working over his cock. “I’m gonna - gonna, you need to stop, fuck.” Matt lifts his eyes to look at him and Danny looks down at the same time, groaning deep at the way his mouth is stretched around the girth and how his eyelashes flutter dangerously. He tongues at the slit and then pulls back and drops a kiss to the head of his dick, smirking up at Danny the whole time. Ian twists his fingers one more time, pulling them out and biting the inside of his thigh playfully.
They’re kissing again, and Ian gets off of the bed and strips on the way to the suitcase, grabbing a box of condoms out of the front pocket. The bed dips under his weight when he gets back on it, on Matt’s side this time, touching his side and curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt as he pulls him away from his boyfriend so he can help him undress. “C’mere,” he mutters, opening the box of Trojan Magnum and ripping a condom off of the string. “I guessed your size,” Ian smirks eyeing Matt’s junk with one raised eyebrow. He almost, almost flushes. His hips jerk up when Ian rolls it down over his cock and then spreads lube across him, pressing his fingers into Danny’s ass one more time just for good measure.
Matt settles in between Danny’s legs, staring wide eyed down at him because he just realized that yeah, Ian just put a condom on him and, yeah, he’s about to fuck his boyfriend. He glances at Ian involuntarily and he nods, tipping his head at Danny who’s watching him. Ian recognizes the slightly hazy expression that’s in his eyes, making them a deeper shade of blue than they usually are. They’re his bedroom eyes, the ones that he’s used being for him and him alone, and it’s almost unsettling watching him use them on someone else.
“C’mon,” Danny says softly, hooking his arms underneath Matt’s, pulling him closer. He swallows and looks down, lining up the necessary body parts and pushes in slowly, chest tightening because it feels fucking good, it feels - it feels good. “Fuck,” Danny chokes out and Matt rests his weight on his elbows, all too aware of Ian watching them.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing his lips over his cheeks.
“Yeah,” Danny says breathlessly. “It’s just, you’re a little more than what I’m used to.” Something like a laugh escapes his throat, and Ian leans over, linking their fingers together so that he can at least be touching him while someone else fucks him.
He squeezes his hand light, and then says in an almost conversational voice, “You can just go, you know. He won’t complain.” Matt looks up at him where he’s settled on the bed next to Danny, and nods, rocking his hips forward experimentally. It’s his turn to almost choke, and he rests his head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of Danny’s skin. He starts again, drawing back before thrusting back in, trying to go deep so that he really feels it.
Moving his hands to his hips, his rhythm stutters for a few moments, shifting so he has a better angle to fuck him with. “You feel so good,” he says in this gravelly voice, hands pressing bruises to the skin on his hips. His thumbs sweep back and forth, directly over the bone which is slowly driving Danny crazy. “I want to fuck you for hours, maybe let you ride me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He nods, gasping in little ah ah ah’s because he can’t really say anything else right now. “Maybe I could bend you over the desk so you could watch yourself take it in the mirror,” Matt intones, grinding his hips deep and filthy. Ian makes a noise in the back of his throat, skimming the hand that isn’t linked with Danny’s down his side and crossing his hip, stroking his cock light before going down further, fingers pressing at where he’s stretched around Matt.
“Fuck,” he says quietly, rolling onto his side so he can properly wrap his fingers around his boyfriend’s dick, stroking slowly and off-beat to the rhythm that Matt has set. He strokes slowly, palming over the head and biting at his shoulder. Danny arches suddenly, back bowing up against Matt so they’re pressed chest to chest. He feels Matt grinning into his neck, pressing in deep and grinding his hips so he’s just rubbing against his prostate. The room seems to spin around him and his vision swims, blurring at the edges as he stares up at the ceiling, a litany of oh oh oh’s spilling past his lips. Ian grips his cock, jerking him almost exactly in time with Matt now, lips brushing his shoulder and neck. There’s barely a warning when Danny comes, digging half-crescents into Matt’s shoulders with his nails. His come stripes his chest and covers Ian’s hand, vision whiting out for a few seconds.
When he comes to, he opens his eyes to see Ian and Matt making out above him, as rough as they were before. Danny groans softly, and he watches as Ian pulls back, one hand fisting Matt’s hair. He looks at Danny for a second and then says slowly to Matt, “Can I fuck you?”
“I,” Matt starts, looking a little unsure, because he’s bottomed for all of three guys before and he wasn’t that crazy about it, but this is Ian and Danny is there, fucked out and watching. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He kisses him on the mouth, pushing his tongue past Danny’s lips to lick into his mouth as he pulls out, swallowing the tiny noise that he makes. The condom is tied off and tossed in the general direction of the trashcan before Ian is pushing Matt down on his back, tapping at his kneecaps to get him to spread his legs. Lube drips cool and wet onto his fingers and he blows on them to heat it up a little, pressing two in at once.
It burns, the stretch of going from nothing to two at once, and Matt cries out, curling his fingers around the sheets and twisting. “Shh,” Ian says in a soothing voice, smoothing a gentle hand up his leg and across his lower stomach. He twists his fingers carefully, trying a few times before he manages to press them right against his prostate. A very undignified noise escapes his lips (he has very little dignity left at this point, what was left of it from last time was pretty much stripped from him the moment he walked through the adjoining door) and he presses his hips down, gasping out, “More, fuck, again.”
Ian fingerfucks him open quickly but thoroughly, jumping to three fingers before he deems him well enough prepared. He rips open a condom and puts it on himself, and then Matt’s hand is there, lube covered hand fisting his dick slowly a few times before he wipes his fingers on the sheets and leans back down. Danny and Matt are kissing, Danny sucking on his tongue as he pushes in. “On a scale of one to ten how flexible are you?” Ian says, breath shallow, pupils blown wide as he looks down at Matt.
“I - what, uh,” Matt says, trying to make sense and find the relevance in what Ian is asking while his dick is in his ass. “Eight?”
“Awesome.” Ian grins breathlessly and then pulls out, maneuvering one of his legs so it’s hooked over his shoulder. Matt groans loud and low once he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against his ass. With the way that his leg is over his shoulder the angle is different, better, letting Ian fuck him harder and deeper and much, much more intense. He digs the heel of his foot into the middle of his back, his other leg bent at the knee with his foot pressed against the mattress. Ian turns his head to the side, sucking a deep purple mark onto the lower part of the inside of his thigh.
“Fuck, Mouse,” he says breathlessly, and Matt moans, tipping his head back so the column of his neck is exposed. He doubts that he’ll ever get rid of that nickname now, and no matter who uses it (he doubts anyone except for Ian or maybe Danny will, though) he’ll always think back to this. He definitely isn’t expecting it when Danny presses a line of kisses up his neck, leaving a sharp bite to the sensitive skin behind his ear. His tongue traces the shell of his ear, pointing the end so it goes through his black gauges.
Matt twists his head to the side, reaching with one hand and pulling Danny’s facing towards him so he can kiss him hot, and then Ian presses his hips in deep and grinds just right so that his whole body starts and he forgets how to kiss Danny for a second. The one who isn’t being fucked grins against Matt’s lips and kisses the corner of his lips and then draws back, taking Ian’s face in both of his hands and kissing him so intimately that if he weren’t being fucked by Ian at this very moment he’d feel like he wasn’t supposed to see it. Danny ends the kiss with a peppering of smaller kisses, short pecks until he pulls away and lies down on his stomach, propping his chin in his hand to watch them again.
“I’m not -“ Matt starts, and Ian nods, cutting him off with a sharp thrust and “I know, me neither.”
It gets messy and fast after that, a handful of thrusts before they come almost at exactly the same time, their lips connected and moaning low into each other’s mouths. When they look over Danny is grinding his hips into the mattress slowly, and Ian smirks, kissing Matt deeply again before pulling out and discarding the condom in the same fashion that Matt did, moving over to where Danny is and leaving Matt to recover from fucking Danny and being fucked by Ian and watching the two of them together now.
“Hey,” he says to Danny, and he rolls over without even thinking about it, letting Ian wrap his hand around his cock. They kiss again, and Ian starts jerking him off slowly, moving his mouth so he can use it for other things. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks, not expecting more than the hum that he gets. “And you’re hard again so soon just from watching me fucking Matt, was it that hot? Did you like it that much?” He looks directly over at him, looks Matt in the eye and says, “Maybe we’ll have to do this again, except next time I’d really like to watch you riding him. Maybe he’ll rim you if you’re nice,” he says, dropping his voice to a husky murmur that even makes Matt want to go again, and Danny comes on the spot.
He wipes his hand off on the sheet and thinks vaguely that they must be pretty gunky by now. Part of him pities the person who does laundry for the hotel. Danny flings an arm across his eyes and mutters something about Ian and his fucking mouth and Matt laughs, looking almost startled by the noise in the room. It sounds out of place after all the fucking and sex and sex noises. Ian reaches over the edge of the bed and flings a pair of boxers at Matt and then gets out and goes over to his and Danny’s shared suitcase, getting out a pair for each of them.
They all crash on the king bed, and Matt may or may not have accidently mixed up the room orders and asked for a king instead of a queen for the couple’s room, but that’s okay because that means that there’s more space for the three of them to lie there together.
“I was serious, you know,” Ian says into the darkness after the lights are out and they’re all just there, sheets pulled up over them, one of his arms wrapped around Danny’s waist where he’s lying in the middle of them. “It could - we could do this again.”
Matt smiles and rolls over onto his side so he’s face to face with Danny, and if he props himself up on his elbow, facing Ian too. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’d like that.”
A/N II: yeah, this definitely wasn't supposed to be +6000 words long. It kind of grew wings and flew away by itself.