the night starts here (7b/?), will/skandar/anna, nc-17
Title: the night starts here (7b/?)
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar/Anna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Real person slash and het
Summary: Skandar knows he should want to bond with Will P., and Michael, and all the new people he's going to be working with. He shouldn't want to just abandon this party, but there's really only two people he cares about giving a proper goodbye to.
A/N: GUESS WHAT. This fic wasn't entirely forgotten about!! Also, I have absolutely no idea what's going on with its timeline anymore, can we just pretend it makes sense? I also just want to thank everybody who's stuck with this story all this time, despite my obvious issues with updating on any kind of regular basis. ♥ It really means a lot to me.
[ Part 1. ¦ Part 2. ¦ Part 3. ¦ Part 4. ¦ Part 5. ¦ Part 6. ¦ Part 7a & Part 7b. ¦ Part 8a & Part 8b. ¦ TBC]
In the taxi, it proves somewhat difficult to keep their hands off each other. Skandar is just so desperate to touch them, and for them to touch him. And in the club, that was okay as long as they were dancing, like everybody else. But Skandar wants-needs-more, and he's finding it difficult to care about their cab driver's personal comfort.
So he ends up nuzzling Anna's neck, pressing clumsy kisses to her hot skin as he slumps against her in the backseat, while Will's hand clutches at his thigh and Skandar tries to pull it closer to his crotch.
That's pretty much the position they're in when they reach some traffic lights and the taxi driver peers in the rear-view mirror at them, and then again, and then clears his throat and decides, for some reason, that it's not an awkward moment to start speaking.
"'Ere, sorry, but you're not from that Narnia film are yous?" is what he says.
Shit. Skandar heaves a sigh against Anna's shoulder and just shuts his eyes, utterly unable to come up with an appropriate response to that. He can't even be bothered thinking about what would be appropriate, so he just leaves that up to the others.
Luckily, Anna pulls through. "Which one of us?" she asks, patting Skandar on the head comfortingly and making him feel quite sleepy.
"Er," says the man, taken aback. He drives on as the lights turn green, and then looks at them in the rear-view mirror again, kind of studying their faces in the dim light.
Skandar tries very, very hard not to laugh, and fails.
"You, sweetheart," the driver says finally, pointing to Anna over his shoulder with his thumb. "You look like a film star."
Skandar's pretty sure he actually winks after this statement, which is just astoundingly gross. But Anna only giggles.
"Oh, no," she says, turning her head and kissing Skandar softly (possibly just to shut him up). "No," she says, still looking at Skandar and not at Mr. Creepy Cabbie, "you must be confusing me with someone else."
"Oh, ah," the man says, frowning to himself as he drives on.
Anna grins and kisses Skandar again, easing her tongue through the seam of his lips as her hand cradles his face. Will rests against Skandar's shoulder, kisses it through the sweaty fabric of his t-shirt and then hitches it up to kiss the skin. The cab driver clears his throat again and turns up the radio.
Skandar really doesn't think he's one for exhibitionism (though tonight seems to be making him question this stance rather a lot), but there's definitely something exciting about behaving like this in the back of a cab. Right in front of (or rather, right behind) a total stranger. He's hard again already, too drunk to try not to be, and Will's hand keeps skimming the crotch of his jeans teasingly.
Luckily for everybody, the drive to Will's flat isn't that far, and it's not long before they're stepping back out into the cool air, clothes somewhat crumpled as they pay the taxi driver. Skandar feels like maybe they should tip a bit extra as an apology for their behaviour. But then-
"Coulda sworn I seen you on a DVD somewhere," the driver says, shaking his head like he's trying to bring a memory to the forefront of his mind.
Anna, hands on her hips, bends down to look at him through the window. "Which one of us?" she asks, smirking, and then turns on her heel and pulls the two of them after her.
"Finally, home," Will grins, heaving his body against the doors.
But actually getting inside, and up to Will's own flat, proves to be difficult.
Skandar sniggers. "I think you need to actually unlock that, Will."
Will sighs dramatically, pulling himself back up and fumbling around in his pockets for his keys for what feels like a good five minutes before finally waving something in the general direction of some kind of sensor.
"That's it," Will announces, after throwing his whole weight against the door determinedly and letting the others through, "that's it for my responsibility tonight, I'm too drunk for this."
"For doors?" Anna enquires.
This leaves Skandar in charge of getting them into the lift and pressing the unnecessarily complicated pattern of buttons required for getting to Will's floor. When he finally succeeds and they're on their way up, it feels like a genuine achievement.
"You're so drunk, Skandar," Anna giggles, bumping him with her hip. He sways gently, feels the cool surface of a mirror against his arm.
"Not too drunk to get it up," Will points out, smirking, and Skandar half-heartedly cups his hands over his crotch, grinning at Will sheepishly. "He's been hard since we were in the taxi."
"I thought you were walking funny," Anna grins, and Skandar reddens, but then she's nuzzling up to him, prying his hands away and replacing them with her own in a much more firm touch, caressing the hot hard shape of his dick through his trousers.
He says something that sounds, to his own ears, like "fffff," and then moves in to kiss her, but she turns at that same moment to look at Will and beckon him towards them. Will's hand joins Anna's between Skandar's legs, and Skandar sort of whimpers, head rolling back against the mirror.
The lift pings as they reach their floor, and Skandar groans. The three of them stumble out, nearly tripping over as they try to walk and be all over each other at the same time.
"I don't think-" says Anna breathily, in between kisses to Will's bare shoulders and Skandar's neck, "I can make it," she stops abruptly, leans back against the wall and pulls them in towards her, "inside," she murmurs finally.
"No," agrees Skandar. He clears his throat, pulls her closer, his sweaty palm against the soft silk of her slip.
She nuzzles into his shoulder, leaves a smudge of pinkish lip-gloss on his shirt. Their lips meet clumsily, and he can hardly take it, even just a kiss, feels like he could come in his pants right here just from her tongue in his mouth and the heat of her body against his.
"It's only about," Will whispers, "five more metres."
He's tugging at Anna's slip. She shakes her head, turns away from Skandar to look at Will. "Uh-uh," she says firmly, "five metres is five metres too far."
She loops her arms around his neck and kisses him against his giggly protests, while Skandar aches at the loss of touch. Anna backs Will into Skandar, who lets out a surprised little "oof" and then grasps Will's hips, his hard-on pressing up against him. He snakes a clumsy hand round in front, his cheek against the back of Will's neck. He feels growing stiffness against his palm and smiles into hot skin.
He knows that the corridor of Will's flat is hardly private (no matter how beautifully deserted it is right now), but after a night of busy party, of crowded club, and of an inconveniently nosy cab driver, it feels as private as a locked bedroom.
"You were okay with a dance floor and the back of a taxi," he points out to an anxious-seeming Will, "but now we're in an empty corridor you're getting modest?"
"My neighbours," Will whimpers weakly against Anna's mouth.
"This is England," Anna murmurs soothingly back. "You haven't even ever spoken to your neighbours."
"Exactly," Will protests, as Skandar starts fiddling with that ridiculous ram's head belt buckle of his. "I don't think this is the best circumstance for our first meeting."
"No?" says Anna, laughing softly. Skandar watches over Will's shoulder as she takes Will's hand and brings it to the hem of her slip, slides it slowly up her thigh.
Will's voice gets decidedly more strained now. "Hello, yes, terribly sorry, was I making too much noise with my impromptu ménage a trois outside your front door? I'm Will, by the way, I moved in at least a month ago, nice to meet you, yes, I'll take my debauchery away now."
As Anna chuckles and Will shushes her, Skandar wonders how Will is managing French at a time like this. He decides he's going to have to put a stop to that. Or he would, if he could get this damn belt buckle undone.
"We can do whatever you want when we get inside," Will promises in a hurried whisper. "Just, can we please try to hobble to the door?"
"But I'm so-" Skandar mumbles.
He's so hard now he's honestly not sure he can walk-or even hobble-and he can't seem to stop his hips from bucking up against available surfaces.
"I know," Will says, "you're jabbing me in the back."
Anna giggles, and reaches round Will, wedging her hand between them. The movement of her hand sliding down against Skandar's crotch makes him groan and also maybe flail a little bit.
"Wow, you really are," Anna murmurs, and her voice sounds sort of thick, low. "I don't know if I've ever felt you so hard, it's like a rock."
"Anna-a-a," Skandar manages weakly, canting his hips up and only meeting more of the heat and the friction.
Will eases himself out of the way and they close in on either side of Skandar, hands roaming, Will's worries about his neighbours long forgotten.
"God, I want to feel you," Anna mutters, and her hot cheek touches his as she speaks against his ear, her messy hair tickling his nose. He tenses, tries to get a grip. "I'm sorry, Will, I just-"
She's got one of his thighs between both of hers, and she's practically rubbing against him, clearly desperate for friction just as much as he is. She's got his fly undone in the blink of an eye, and he's breathing so quick and shaky he sounds like he's hyperventilating as she fumbles for his cock. He reaches down too, almost embarrassed at how fucking hard he is, but she gets there first, hand pushing down inside his boxers and wrapping around him. He breathes in sharply, so suddenly he almost chokes on his own saliva, and Will chuckles softly, dips, kisses his neck.
"Will, I'm-" Skandar chokes out.
"I know," Will says again, stroking a reassuring hand against his chest, "me too."
Anna pulls him out, squeezing him at the base, firm and steady. "God, Skandar," she breathes. Her fist slides up, lubricated only with sweat, the friction too intense.
"Just-" he starts, but he doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what he wants her to do.
He looks down. He doesn't usually like looking at himself during sex, gets embarrassed about things, but right now he can see the slick, wet, flushed head of his cock pushing through Anna's clenched fist, and it looks so hot he can barely handle it.
"Will, look, feel," Anna says brokenly, and Skandar's never heard her voice so husky before.
Will's hand trails down Skandar's stomach, and Skandar feels like his legs are actually about to give way when Will's fingers replace Anna's, curling around his aching erection.
Will keeps still, but smiles against Skandar's neck. "I...I missed this dick," he says, quiet, a little shy, and Skandar flushes and shuts his eyes, almost wants to turn away.
"Will," he says, blushing hotly now, a nervous sort of laugh bubbling up from his chest.
Anna's hand finds its way down to his balls, sort of cups them, and then she's stroking behind them, fingertips almost at his arse. He squirms against the wall, and Anna's eyes flick up to him. She offers a smile, which he returns with what feels like Herculean effort, finding it almost impossible to focus on anything besides what's going on between his legs right now. Anna kisses his jaw, and he feels the soft plump shape of her lips against his skin and tries to relax.
But then she's pressing down with her fingers and Will's thumb sweeps over the head of Skandar's cock, wet with pre-cum, and Skandar's body practically spasms. He grips Will's hip and Anna's waist like he's holding onto them for dear life, and shudders with orgasm, hips jerking up as he shoots in three hot pulses over Will's hand and Anna's arm and pretty much everything in the near vicinity.
He's pretty sure the corridor is actually spinning around them, but he's too dazed to worry about it, and decides to just stay slumped against the wall gazing at the ceiling until it stops.
"Er-ah," Anna says quietly.
"Oh," Will adds, sounding disappointed.
"It's okay, it's okay," Skandar pants, "I can go again," he assures them.
"Can it be inside?" Will asks.
"I think that'd be a good idea," Anna agrees, and points to a small, wet, whitish spot on the carpet about a foot in front of them.
"I-wow," is all Skandar can manage, as Will hurriedly scuffs his shoe on it, presumably to avoid offending his neighbours' delicate sensibilities tomorrow morning.
"Inside," Will says, "assuming you can walk."
"I...think so," Skandar says.
He tucks his cock back inside his boxers, trying to ignore the discomfort of it, damp and sticky, and takes a few experimental steps forward. His legs are like jelly, but they do seem to be holding up.
"Inside!" he says triumphantly and a little too loudly, pointing at a nearby door.
"Shh! That's not mine!" Will hisses frantically, and pushes him onwards, Anna giggling and trotting after them.
***
"Ah, bed," Skandar says, after they've managed to get through Will's flat to the bedroom. "How I've missed you."
He flops down onto it, headfirst, and nuzzles the duvet.
"Okay," says Will, his tone suddenly businesslike. "It's your leaving party, what do you want?"
Skandar rolls over lazily and gazes up at him. "A moment to recover," he replies, and then adds, "also, some sex, please."
Anna laughs and Will rolls his eyes. "That's kind of a given, you goof," Will says, causing Anna to laugh even harder.
The two of them join Skandar on the bed, curling up to him, and Skandar's tired, he can actually imagine just going to sleep with them like this. Only, he refuses to leave with only the memory of something that can barely be classified as a handjob.
Will nudges him. "Go on, tell us what you want. It's up to you."
Skandar stretches, rolls over to face him. "I don't know. Just sex."
"You never say," Will sighs exasperatedly. "You never really talk about it. Unless I make you."
Skandar flashes back to that day, the two of them entangled on the sofa, Will urging the words out of him, getting him to describe his first time alone with Anna. He starts blushing just at the memory of it and groans.
"I'm sorry I don't talk dirty enough for you, Will," he says scathingly. "Maybe I just don't see the point in talking about it when I can do it instead."
"Doing is good," Anna pipes up, snuggling up behind him.
"Well, maybe we'll just lie here and you'll have to make the decisions," Will says with a shrug, lying back.
"Yes, I'll have no choice but to describe what I want to do to you," Skandar replies, voice heavy with sarcasm.
He pulls himself up and turns around, sitting between the two of them. Anna's slip is hitched up, and her tights are torn from her knee right up to where he can no longer see the rip.
"Is that a ladder in your tights," Skandar says drunkenly, following its path with his fingertip and making her giggle, "or a stairway to heaven?"
Just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket and makes him jump.
"Is that something you can put to good use, or is it just your phone?" Anna retorts.
Skandar sighs and fishes it out, peering at the screen. "Georgie is asking me how Will's ankle is," he says, frowning. He actually has four missed texts from her saying this, getting increasingly more capitalised.
"How my what?" asks Will, sitting up.
"Ankle is," Skandar repeats. He shrugs and tosses his phone aside. "She's probably just being weird. Where were we?"
"Something about stairways to heaven," Anna smirks.
"Oh, of course," Skandar grins devilishly, tracing the ladder in her tights once again, following it right up underneath her slip and feeling the silky softness of her knickers through the tear. The damp silky softness. "You're so wet," he breathes out, fingers stroking gently through the fabric.
"You can't talk, mister, you were hard as a steel pipe a minute ago," she snaps back, but her face is flushed and her legs fall apart for him almost of their own accord as he carries on gently rubbing his fingers against her.
"Speaking of steel pipes," Will chimes in, flopping back down on the bed and pointing at his own crotch with a sheepish grin.
Skandar reaches over with his other hand, strokes the bulge in Will's skinny jeans, feels the stiff heat of it against his palm.
"This is gonna be a serious test of my multi-tasking skills," he says uncertainly, hooking his fingers into Anna's knickers and simultaneously picking at Will's belt buckle. "How about you deal with your-chastity belt, and I'll-"
Anna bursts out laughing and Will glowers, batting Skandar's hand away. Skandar peels Anna's tights down, giggling as she gleefully kicks off her shoes and watches them bounce off Will's bedroom wall. He pushes up her slip and starts to pull down her knickers, and he can't help himself-he buries his face between her thighs, presses his lips to soft damp hair and listens to her gasp. He grows hard again already, breathes in her scent, kisses her there.
"Skandarrrrr," Will groans, and giving him a sideways glance Skandar sees that he's stripped off completely already.
"C'mere," Skandar mumbles, "'cause I don't wanna move."
Will shuffles over, and Skandar reaches over 'til he feels the hard length of Will's dick, resting heavy and hot against his stomach. He brushes his hand against it then pulls back, chuckling when Will makes a frustrated noise in his throat. He brings that same hand down between Anna's legs, strokes it right along her, gathers her wetness on his fingertips. She whimpers, grabs at his shoulder, but he goes back to Will, curls his slick fingers around Will's cock, strokes smoothly up and down, savours the thick feel of him in his hand.
Anna is writhing a little beside him, bucking up against his mouth, and so he pokes out his tongue, slides it over her and tastes her, shudders a little when she moans out loud. He's only done this once before, and it's one of the things that scares him the most, makes him feel like he's really out of his depth. It doesn't come naturally, but he loves it, loves being down between her legs like this and pressing his mouth to her, suckling her clit and coaxing his tongue inside her.
Will is getting restless too, hips thrusting up off the bed's surface so he's fucking Skandar's fist slowly. It's making a sound, slick and dirty, and Skandar feels his face go hot as he nuzzles between Anna's legs, licks and licks at her, pressing his erection into the mattress. Her fingers grapple at his head, stroke, suddenly grasp a handful of hair as his tongue slides over her swollen clit.
Greedy, he eases out of her grip, replaces his tongue with some trembling fingers and crosses over to Will, leans in over him, bumps his lips gently against the straining length of his cock. The skin clings, hot and slick, Anna's smell mingling with Will's, and Skandar rubs himself against the bed, crumples the duvet beneath him. He kisses the head of Will's dick, the shiny-smoothness of it, his heart pounding in his ears. He breathes in, out, in, out, and then takes Will between his lips, sucks him into his mouth at the same time as he sinks a finger deep inside Anna, feels her pulse around him, soaking wet.
He sucks Will messily, too drunk and too needy to make it perfect, his mouth smeared with spit and pre-cum before long. Will is moaning, fingers grazing Skandar's shoulder, and Skandar tries to keep up, bobbing his head as he fucks Anna with his finger, thrusts in and out of her and presses the heel of his hand to her clit. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her fumble blindly for something to grab hold of and find Will's hand. They clutch each other tightly and Skandar works on them like it's the very last time.
He's jerking Will off with a spit-slick hand, fucking Anna with two fingers and lapping at her clit when she stops him. A flexing of her hand around his shoulder and then a breathless, "I-I-Skandar-"
He stops, pulls back, almost gulping for air, still fully-dressed and too hot and so desperately turned-on that it feels like the room is spinning.
"I need you inside," she murmurs, words blurring together.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she nods, swallows, and he sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and hurriedly yanks off the rest of his clothes.
She's wriggling out of her slip, struggling to get it up over her breasts, and then unclasping her bra behind her back. Her breasts sway free, heavy, nipples pink and hard, and Will tackles her onto the bed, covers her with kisses, his cock pressing against her thigh.
She giggles, writhes beneath him. Skandar hops off the bed and crouches down on the floor, pulling out the drawer under the bed and rummaging around for condoms and lube. Finding them, he leaps back onto the bed and is just getting the packet undone when there's a loud, insistent buzz.
"Oh my god, Georgie, Will's ankle is fine," Skandar groans, leaning across Will and Anna's entwined legs for his phone.
"She's so weird," Anna says absentmindedly, hooking her chin over Will's shoulder to watch as Skandar checks his messages.
"It's Tilda," he says. "She says she told everyone Will tripped over and we took him to A&E in case his ankle was broken," he explains, reading the text, "and, um," he smiles, "she also tells us not to do anything she wouldn't do."
"I think that leaves very little," Anna points out. "Can we have sex now please?"
"I-hang on," Skandar says, "let me just reply. I should probably tell Georgie we're okay, too."
Anna heaves a sigh, and Will laughs, reaching down between her legs and stroking her. Anna makes a vague sort of "nnnn" noise, which is surprisingly distracting when one is trying to respond to text messages.
"Okay!" Skandar announces after tapping out what he's pretty sure were the quickest texts in the history of the universe. He practically tears a condom out of its packet, and puts it on while crawling over to Anna.
She hooks her legs around him, pulls him in so that the head of his dick brushes against her, so hot and pink, wet. She's lying back, arms up behind her head, resting against a pillow, and she looks so gorgeous, so relaxed and natural and at ease. She crosses her feet behind his back and her breasts sway with the movement. He just looks at her, the tangled mass of dark hair around her gorgeous face, her sleepy smile, pink cheeks, her eyelids lowered. He strokes a hand down her torso, teases a nipple between his thumb and fingertip, traces patterns over her pale belly, twirls the dark hair between her legs.
Bzzzzzz.
"Oh my god!" Anna cries, bringing a pillow down over her face and groaning into it with frustration.
Skandar fumbles behind him for his phone, peers at it. "It's Tilda."
"Are we seriously being cockblocked by Tilda?" Will asks.
"Did you seriously just say 'cockblocked'?" Anna asks, voice muffled against her pillow.
"These are both important questions," says Skandar, "as is Tilda's, which I'm not going to repeat right now, but the most important thing is-"
"Is what?" Will asks, his eyes seeming to twinkle mischievously.
"The matter at hand," Skandar replies with a smirk. He throws his phone over his shoulder, hears it land with a clunk on the floor, and then pulls the pillow from Anna's face and sends it in the same direction.
Will settles down beside Anna, rests his head on her chest and watches, watches as Skandar starts to ease himself inside her. He can't help but moan with each tight, hot inch that envelopes him, and Will's hand slips down to where they join just to feel it.
"Ohhhhh, fuuuuck," Skandar groans when she's all around him, and she's grabbing at his hips, fingers kneading his arse.
"Good?" Will murmurs, nips at Anna's nipple with his teeth and makes her body jolt, her cunt clenching tight around Skandar.
"So good," Skandar almost sobs, holding Anna tight by the waist, pulling her down on him so he's as deep as can be.
When he leans down over her, starts fucking her, he finds himself hovering right over Will, and they kiss, soft and then sloppy. Anna moans beside them and Skandar kisses her, now, thrusts his hips faster, harder. Will's hand is down between their stomachs, sneaking down further still and then he's pushing a finger inside Anna, alongside Skandar's cock, and she shudders, clutches him tighter.
He straightens back up, everything too close and too hot all of a sudden, claustrophobic, and he throws back his head as he fucks her, hips pistoning back and forth, Will's finger keeping up with his pace and making everything even tighter and hotter. He can hear the slick sound of Will's hand against his own cock, and then there's movement, the bed creaking and mattress wobbling beneath them. When he opens his eyes, Will is in front of him, standing over Anna with his cock right at Skandar's lips.
Skandar grins up at him and sucks him right in, feels his lips stretch around the taut flesh. He brings his mouth back and forth, strokes his tongue over the smooth head, the ridge, that one vein on the underside. With one hand, he pats the bed aimlessly, trying to find the lube. Eventually his hand lands on a tube and he scrabbles with it for a while before managing to get the cap off and his fingers greased. Taking Will as deep into his mouth as he can, and letting Anna bring herself down on him, fucking herself on his cock, he reaches round to Will's arse.
He slides a finger down, waits and feels the heat against his skin for a moment, then the tight resistance as he pushes inside, gentle and slow but persistent, feeling Will's cock grow even harder in his mouth. He tries to find a rhythm, then, between his hips, his mouth and his finger, but he's clumsy from the alcohol and arousal, and he fails for the most part. But it doesn't matter-Will is grasping at his head and groaning, while Anna is moving with him, meeting his thrusts, making these little weak noises all the while. And he has her tight heat wrapped around him and the thick, hard shape of Will's cock in his mouth, the taste of him on his tongue, his finger held tight to the knuckle. And he has no idea how he's supposed to live without this, how he ever did.
Will's eyes are pricking with tears as he looks down, fingers tangled in Skandar's sweaty curls. He pulls out and Skandar wipes his wet mouth and looks up at him, lips curled into a crooked grin.
"Fuck," he says. Eloquent.
"Yeah," Will nods. He strokes his hand down, curls his finger around the hair at the nape of Skandar's neck. "I-can we-?"
"Yeah," says Skandar, nodding. Their eyes are fixed, he has to force himself to look away. "Yeah, Anna, can we-?"
"Yeah," she says, grinning, pulling herself up off him.
Skandar wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling almost dizzy. Will disentangles himself, and Skandar reaches down between his legs to take his condom off.
"Do we have to-fuck, I can't-is it-" he stammers. His phone buzzes. Will throws something in its general direction. "I'm-ack."
Will looks just as flustered, but he laughs, pulls Skandar's condom off and replaces it with a new one, kisses him and strokes a hot hand down his back soothingly. Skandar smiles against his mouth, pushes him down onto his back and flips his legs up, ducking down to kiss the inside of his thighs, the base of his hard cock, his heavy balls, even that spot that Anna rubbed on him earlier that felt so amazing.
But Will pushes him off, sits up and wrestles Skandar down onto his back, straddling him with a cocky sort of grin.
"This is your send-off," he says, "you shouldn't have to do all the work."
"Yeah, like this is work," Skandar laughs.
But then Will is looping loose fingers around Skandar's cock and carefully bringing it into place, a hot smear of skin on skin and then that first push inside that makes Skandar's body jolt almost involuntarily.
"Stay still," Will says with a hint of a smile. Anna takes hold of Skandar's wrists playfully, pins him to the bed.
"Oh, that's easy for you to say," Skandar retorts, and then makes a noise and struggles a bit as Will lowers himself a little bit further, gasps and tosses back his head.
"Shut up," Will adds coolly.
Anna lets go of one of Skandar's wrists, clamps her hand over his mouth instead. He licks her palm obnoxiously, and she raises her eyebrows and purses her lips at him, before letting go of him altogether and clambering on top of him, sitting right down on him and holding him still with her weight. He can feel the slick heat of her cunt against his chest, the gentle throb of it matching the pounding of his heart.
Skandar's phone buzzes pathetically from somewhere on the floor, and when he starts to laugh, Anna says, "Ah-" and places her finger firmly to his lips to silence him. He rolls his eyes, and then Will is sliding down onto him in one movement, so tight and so hot that he can't help but cry out just a little.
Anna turns, swings around to face away from him and budges back until she's almost straddling his face. He tilts his chin, tries to reach her, but then Will makes a shaky little sound and starts to move, and Skandar's brain short-circuits. Anna brings herself gently down to his mouth and he parts his lips, tongue flickering out unsteadily against her, not sure how much of this he can take at once.
He doesn't seem to get a choice, though, because in seconds Will is riding him, so hard he can hear the slap of skin on skin and feel Will's erection smack down against his stomach with each heave. And the moment Skandar touches Anna's clit, finds the hard little nub against his tongue, she's moaning deep and low and unreserved, unable to hold herself up and almost smothering him. It's too much, too good, and he can't do anything but enjoy it, work his tongue against Anna until it aches, and then keep going, thrusting his hips desperately up as Will rides him at an erratic pace.
His hands slide over Will's hips, over Anna's, clutch at her stomach as his tongue pushes inside her and he mouths at her eagerly. He can't see either of them but somehow only being able to hear them makes it even hotter; he knows that they're kissing, that Anna's jerking Will off as the two of them ride him. And he knows when Will comes, feels the clench, the tension, the shudder and the sudden hot spray across his chest. Will moans mostly into Anna's mouth, and Skandar holds him tight, eases him through it, even as Anna starts to tremble against his tongue.
Feeling them both come brings his orgasm on faster, and it's a matter of seconds before it's rocketing through him, leaving him to mouth wordlessly at slick skin and pump his hips weakly up, up, up. Despite the fact that it's his second orgasm tonight, he still loses feeling in his fingers and his toes, and his brain goes completely foggy.
They get up off him to let him breathe-or rather, pant-and they clean him up, giggling, kissing him gently and pottering back and forth with towels and things. The first thing Skandar notices when he feels properly conscious is Anna standing against the wall, naked, eating a muffin.
"I was hungry," she says, "do you want some?"
After muffins, water, and some brief bedtime bathing, they're back in bed, snuggled up together under a thin sheet with the window open, too hot. Skandar is between Will and Anna, and he savours that feeling, the lovely naked closeness of their bodies against his, because he knows he's not going to feel it again for a long, long time.
Somewhere in the room, his phone buzzes to itself.
***
They come to the airport a few days later to see him off, Will limping ridiculously to keep up their pretence.
"So you thought it might be broken, but it's fine?" Ben is saying to him doubtfully as Skandar hugs various people goodbye.
"Yeah, well, I mean, it's sprained," Will says, chuckling, and Skandar wishes Tilda had picked a less terrible liar to be the one with the injured ankle, "but you know me-drama queen."
"Indeed," Ben says, strangely meaningfully. "Well, bye then?"
Skandar watches the two of them hug, and then as Ben heads off, gives Will a slightly anxious smile. Will pulls him into a tight, fierce, unself-conscious hug.
"I'm gonna miss you," he says into Skandar's neck.
"Duh," Skandar says back, but holds him close, whispers, "me too," into his ear.
Anna stands beside them and he catches her eye. She's fidgeting, watching them, a forced smile on her face.
"Group hug?" Skandar offers, retracting one arm to pull her in towards the two of them.
She giggles, buries her face in his chest, and he squeezes her tight.
"Come visit really soon," he says, trying to keep talking so he doesn't cry or something stupid like that. "Like, right away."
"We will," Anna assures him. "As soon as we can, I promise."
"I'm gonna miss you so much," Will frets.
Skandar laughs, ruffles Will's hair, wishes he could kiss him. "You said that," he reminds him.
"But I-"
"I know," Skandar interrupts. "Me too."
"Me too," Anna chimes in.
"I think they're waiting for me," Skandar whispers after a moment.
"Your Mum is giving us funny looks," Anna informs him. "You've spent longer hugging us than you have hugging her."
"SURPRISE GEORGIE ATTACK!" comes a sudden shriek, a split-second before the three of them are pounced on and the group hug gets even bigger.
"Is this a new thing we're doing now?" Georgie asks, wriggling between Anna and Will. "Because it's kind of soppy." Anna elbows her in the ribs, and she squeals. "Ben!! Anna's hurting me!"
"I forgot how hyper she gets in airports," Anna sighs.
Ben comes over, Will Poulter shuffling after him. "Are you leaving me out of a group hug?" Ben asks, sounding hurt. "But I thought that was our new thing."
"It was our new thing," Skandar whispers to Will and Anna.
"In a way," Will whispers back.
"Now they're whispering," Georgie pouts.
Ben's arms suddenly envelope them, and they all bump and knock against each other, laughing.
"Gooooo Pevensies!" Georgie cheers, grinning.
"Go Pevensies!" Will, Skandar and Anna echo, grinning bravely at each other.
"And whatever Caspian's last name is," Ben adds.
"And whatever Caspian's last name is!"
"And also Scrubb," Ben says, following a slightly awkward pause. Skandar cranes his neck as Ben gestures to Will Poulter to join them.
"Join the hug, Scrubb!" Georgie giggles.
"Oh, I don't know," Will says, scuffing his feet. He smiles shyly, jokes, "I mean, you lot haven't even bought me dinner yet..."
Georgie snorts and she and Ben grab a hold of him and bundle him into the huddle.
"I think they've been waiting for us for like ten minutes," Skandar points out after a moment.
Georgie breaks free. "Hold the plane!" she calls to no one in particular, and then trots off to give her parents one last goodbye. Skandar laughs, forces himself to pull away and shakes his head to try and get that stinging feeling out of his sinuses. He goes to hug his Mum and Dad and sister once more, and then heads down the aisle to security with Ben, Georgie, and Will P.
He keeps turning back, waving, as Will and Anna get smaller and smaller, and then, finally, disappear from view.
This is the first real test of their relationship, and he's not at all sure he's prepared.
Part 8.
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar/Anna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Real person slash and het
Summary: Skandar knows he should want to bond with Will P., and Michael, and all the new people he's going to be working with. He shouldn't want to just abandon this party, but there's really only two people he cares about giving a proper goodbye to.
A/N: GUESS WHAT. This fic wasn't entirely forgotten about!! Also, I have absolutely no idea what's going on with its timeline anymore, can we just pretend it makes sense? I also just want to thank everybody who's stuck with this story all this time, despite my obvious issues with updating on any kind of regular basis. ♥ It really means a lot to me.
[ Part 1. ¦ Part 2. ¦ Part 3. ¦ Part 4. ¦ Part 5. ¦ Part 6. ¦ Part 7a & Part 7b. ¦ Part 8a & Part 8b. ¦ TBC]
In the taxi, it proves somewhat difficult to keep their hands off each other. Skandar is just so desperate to touch them, and for them to touch him. And in the club, that was okay as long as they were dancing, like everybody else. But Skandar wants-needs-more, and he's finding it difficult to care about their cab driver's personal comfort.
So he ends up nuzzling Anna's neck, pressing clumsy kisses to her hot skin as he slumps against her in the backseat, while Will's hand clutches at his thigh and Skandar tries to pull it closer to his crotch.
That's pretty much the position they're in when they reach some traffic lights and the taxi driver peers in the rear-view mirror at them, and then again, and then clears his throat and decides, for some reason, that it's not an awkward moment to start speaking.
"'Ere, sorry, but you're not from that Narnia film are yous?" is what he says.
Shit. Skandar heaves a sigh against Anna's shoulder and just shuts his eyes, utterly unable to come up with an appropriate response to that. He can't even be bothered thinking about what would be appropriate, so he just leaves that up to the others.
Luckily, Anna pulls through. "Which one of us?" she asks, patting Skandar on the head comfortingly and making him feel quite sleepy.
"Er," says the man, taken aback. He drives on as the lights turn green, and then looks at them in the rear-view mirror again, kind of studying their faces in the dim light.
Skandar tries very, very hard not to laugh, and fails.
"You, sweetheart," the driver says finally, pointing to Anna over his shoulder with his thumb. "You look like a film star."
Skandar's pretty sure he actually winks after this statement, which is just astoundingly gross. But Anna only giggles.
"Oh, no," she says, turning her head and kissing Skandar softly (possibly just to shut him up). "No," she says, still looking at Skandar and not at Mr. Creepy Cabbie, "you must be confusing me with someone else."
"Oh, ah," the man says, frowning to himself as he drives on.
Anna grins and kisses Skandar again, easing her tongue through the seam of his lips as her hand cradles his face. Will rests against Skandar's shoulder, kisses it through the sweaty fabric of his t-shirt and then hitches it up to kiss the skin. The cab driver clears his throat again and turns up the radio.
Skandar really doesn't think he's one for exhibitionism (though tonight seems to be making him question this stance rather a lot), but there's definitely something exciting about behaving like this in the back of a cab. Right in front of (or rather, right behind) a total stranger. He's hard again already, too drunk to try not to be, and Will's hand keeps skimming the crotch of his jeans teasingly.
Luckily for everybody, the drive to Will's flat isn't that far, and it's not long before they're stepping back out into the cool air, clothes somewhat crumpled as they pay the taxi driver. Skandar feels like maybe they should tip a bit extra as an apology for their behaviour. But then-
"Coulda sworn I seen you on a DVD somewhere," the driver says, shaking his head like he's trying to bring a memory to the forefront of his mind.
Anna, hands on her hips, bends down to look at him through the window. "Which one of us?" she asks, smirking, and then turns on her heel and pulls the two of them after her.
"Finally, home," Will grins, heaving his body against the doors.
But actually getting inside, and up to Will's own flat, proves to be difficult.
Skandar sniggers. "I think you need to actually unlock that, Will."
Will sighs dramatically, pulling himself back up and fumbling around in his pockets for his keys for what feels like a good five minutes before finally waving something in the general direction of some kind of sensor.
"That's it," Will announces, after throwing his whole weight against the door determinedly and letting the others through, "that's it for my responsibility tonight, I'm too drunk for this."
"For doors?" Anna enquires.
This leaves Skandar in charge of getting them into the lift and pressing the unnecessarily complicated pattern of buttons required for getting to Will's floor. When he finally succeeds and they're on their way up, it feels like a genuine achievement.
"You're so drunk, Skandar," Anna giggles, bumping him with her hip. He sways gently, feels the cool surface of a mirror against his arm.
"Not too drunk to get it up," Will points out, smirking, and Skandar half-heartedly cups his hands over his crotch, grinning at Will sheepishly. "He's been hard since we were in the taxi."
"I thought you were walking funny," Anna grins, and Skandar reddens, but then she's nuzzling up to him, prying his hands away and replacing them with her own in a much more firm touch, caressing the hot hard shape of his dick through his trousers.
He says something that sounds, to his own ears, like "fffff," and then moves in to kiss her, but she turns at that same moment to look at Will and beckon him towards them. Will's hand joins Anna's between Skandar's legs, and Skandar sort of whimpers, head rolling back against the mirror.
The lift pings as they reach their floor, and Skandar groans. The three of them stumble out, nearly tripping over as they try to walk and be all over each other at the same time.
"I don't think-" says Anna breathily, in between kisses to Will's bare shoulders and Skandar's neck, "I can make it," she stops abruptly, leans back against the wall and pulls them in towards her, "inside," she murmurs finally.
"No," agrees Skandar. He clears his throat, pulls her closer, his sweaty palm against the soft silk of her slip.
She nuzzles into his shoulder, leaves a smudge of pinkish lip-gloss on his shirt. Their lips meet clumsily, and he can hardly take it, even just a kiss, feels like he could come in his pants right here just from her tongue in his mouth and the heat of her body against his.
"It's only about," Will whispers, "five more metres."
He's tugging at Anna's slip. She shakes her head, turns away from Skandar to look at Will. "Uh-uh," she says firmly, "five metres is five metres too far."
She loops her arms around his neck and kisses him against his giggly protests, while Skandar aches at the loss of touch. Anna backs Will into Skandar, who lets out a surprised little "oof" and then grasps Will's hips, his hard-on pressing up against him. He snakes a clumsy hand round in front, his cheek against the back of Will's neck. He feels growing stiffness against his palm and smiles into hot skin.
He knows that the corridor of Will's flat is hardly private (no matter how beautifully deserted it is right now), but after a night of busy party, of crowded club, and of an inconveniently nosy cab driver, it feels as private as a locked bedroom.
"You were okay with a dance floor and the back of a taxi," he points out to an anxious-seeming Will, "but now we're in an empty corridor you're getting modest?"
"My neighbours," Will whimpers weakly against Anna's mouth.
"This is England," Anna murmurs soothingly back. "You haven't even ever spoken to your neighbours."
"Exactly," Will protests, as Skandar starts fiddling with that ridiculous ram's head belt buckle of his. "I don't think this is the best circumstance for our first meeting."
"No?" says Anna, laughing softly. Skandar watches over Will's shoulder as she takes Will's hand and brings it to the hem of her slip, slides it slowly up her thigh.
Will's voice gets decidedly more strained now. "Hello, yes, terribly sorry, was I making too much noise with my impromptu ménage a trois outside your front door? I'm Will, by the way, I moved in at least a month ago, nice to meet you, yes, I'll take my debauchery away now."
As Anna chuckles and Will shushes her, Skandar wonders how Will is managing French at a time like this. He decides he's going to have to put a stop to that. Or he would, if he could get this damn belt buckle undone.
"We can do whatever you want when we get inside," Will promises in a hurried whisper. "Just, can we please try to hobble to the door?"
"But I'm so-" Skandar mumbles.
He's so hard now he's honestly not sure he can walk-or even hobble-and he can't seem to stop his hips from bucking up against available surfaces.
"I know," Will says, "you're jabbing me in the back."
Anna giggles, and reaches round Will, wedging her hand between them. The movement of her hand sliding down against Skandar's crotch makes him groan and also maybe flail a little bit.
"Wow, you really are," Anna murmurs, and her voice sounds sort of thick, low. "I don't know if I've ever felt you so hard, it's like a rock."
"Anna-a-a," Skandar manages weakly, canting his hips up and only meeting more of the heat and the friction.
Will eases himself out of the way and they close in on either side of Skandar, hands roaming, Will's worries about his neighbours long forgotten.
"God, I want to feel you," Anna mutters, and her hot cheek touches his as she speaks against his ear, her messy hair tickling his nose. He tenses, tries to get a grip. "I'm sorry, Will, I just-"
She's got one of his thighs between both of hers, and she's practically rubbing against him, clearly desperate for friction just as much as he is. She's got his fly undone in the blink of an eye, and he's breathing so quick and shaky he sounds like he's hyperventilating as she fumbles for his cock. He reaches down too, almost embarrassed at how fucking hard he is, but she gets there first, hand pushing down inside his boxers and wrapping around him. He breathes in sharply, so suddenly he almost chokes on his own saliva, and Will chuckles softly, dips, kisses his neck.
"Will, I'm-" Skandar chokes out.
"I know," Will says again, stroking a reassuring hand against his chest, "me too."
Anna pulls him out, squeezing him at the base, firm and steady. "God, Skandar," she breathes. Her fist slides up, lubricated only with sweat, the friction too intense.
"Just-" he starts, but he doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what he wants her to do.
He looks down. He doesn't usually like looking at himself during sex, gets embarrassed about things, but right now he can see the slick, wet, flushed head of his cock pushing through Anna's clenched fist, and it looks so hot he can barely handle it.
"Will, look, feel," Anna says brokenly, and Skandar's never heard her voice so husky before.
Will's hand trails down Skandar's stomach, and Skandar feels like his legs are actually about to give way when Will's fingers replace Anna's, curling around his aching erection.
Will keeps still, but smiles against Skandar's neck. "I...I missed this dick," he says, quiet, a little shy, and Skandar flushes and shuts his eyes, almost wants to turn away.
"Will," he says, blushing hotly now, a nervous sort of laugh bubbling up from his chest.
Anna's hand finds its way down to his balls, sort of cups them, and then she's stroking behind them, fingertips almost at his arse. He squirms against the wall, and Anna's eyes flick up to him. She offers a smile, which he returns with what feels like Herculean effort, finding it almost impossible to focus on anything besides what's going on between his legs right now. Anna kisses his jaw, and he feels the soft plump shape of her lips against his skin and tries to relax.
But then she's pressing down with her fingers and Will's thumb sweeps over the head of Skandar's cock, wet with pre-cum, and Skandar's body practically spasms. He grips Will's hip and Anna's waist like he's holding onto them for dear life, and shudders with orgasm, hips jerking up as he shoots in three hot pulses over Will's hand and Anna's arm and pretty much everything in the near vicinity.
He's pretty sure the corridor is actually spinning around them, but he's too dazed to worry about it, and decides to just stay slumped against the wall gazing at the ceiling until it stops.
"Er-ah," Anna says quietly.
"Oh," Will adds, sounding disappointed.
"It's okay, it's okay," Skandar pants, "I can go again," he assures them.
"Can it be inside?" Will asks.
"I think that'd be a good idea," Anna agrees, and points to a small, wet, whitish spot on the carpet about a foot in front of them.
"I-wow," is all Skandar can manage, as Will hurriedly scuffs his shoe on it, presumably to avoid offending his neighbours' delicate sensibilities tomorrow morning.
"Inside," Will says, "assuming you can walk."
"I...think so," Skandar says.
He tucks his cock back inside his boxers, trying to ignore the discomfort of it, damp and sticky, and takes a few experimental steps forward. His legs are like jelly, but they do seem to be holding up.
"Inside!" he says triumphantly and a little too loudly, pointing at a nearby door.
"Shh! That's not mine!" Will hisses frantically, and pushes him onwards, Anna giggling and trotting after them.
***
"Ah, bed," Skandar says, after they've managed to get through Will's flat to the bedroom. "How I've missed you."
He flops down onto it, headfirst, and nuzzles the duvet.
"Okay," says Will, his tone suddenly businesslike. "It's your leaving party, what do you want?"
Skandar rolls over lazily and gazes up at him. "A moment to recover," he replies, and then adds, "also, some sex, please."
Anna laughs and Will rolls his eyes. "That's kind of a given, you goof," Will says, causing Anna to laugh even harder.
The two of them join Skandar on the bed, curling up to him, and Skandar's tired, he can actually imagine just going to sleep with them like this. Only, he refuses to leave with only the memory of something that can barely be classified as a handjob.
Will nudges him. "Go on, tell us what you want. It's up to you."
Skandar stretches, rolls over to face him. "I don't know. Just sex."
"You never say," Will sighs exasperatedly. "You never really talk about it. Unless I make you."
Skandar flashes back to that day, the two of them entangled on the sofa, Will urging the words out of him, getting him to describe his first time alone with Anna. He starts blushing just at the memory of it and groans.
"I'm sorry I don't talk dirty enough for you, Will," he says scathingly. "Maybe I just don't see the point in talking about it when I can do it instead."
"Doing is good," Anna pipes up, snuggling up behind him.
"Well, maybe we'll just lie here and you'll have to make the decisions," Will says with a shrug, lying back.
"Yes, I'll have no choice but to describe what I want to do to you," Skandar replies, voice heavy with sarcasm.
He pulls himself up and turns around, sitting between the two of them. Anna's slip is hitched up, and her tights are torn from her knee right up to where he can no longer see the rip.
"Is that a ladder in your tights," Skandar says drunkenly, following its path with his fingertip and making her giggle, "or a stairway to heaven?"
Just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket and makes him jump.
"Is that something you can put to good use, or is it just your phone?" Anna retorts.
Skandar sighs and fishes it out, peering at the screen. "Georgie is asking me how Will's ankle is," he says, frowning. He actually has four missed texts from her saying this, getting increasingly more capitalised.
"How my what?" asks Will, sitting up.
"Ankle is," Skandar repeats. He shrugs and tosses his phone aside. "She's probably just being weird. Where were we?"
"Something about stairways to heaven," Anna smirks.
"Oh, of course," Skandar grins devilishly, tracing the ladder in her tights once again, following it right up underneath her slip and feeling the silky softness of her knickers through the tear. The damp silky softness. "You're so wet," he breathes out, fingers stroking gently through the fabric.
"You can't talk, mister, you were hard as a steel pipe a minute ago," she snaps back, but her face is flushed and her legs fall apart for him almost of their own accord as he carries on gently rubbing his fingers against her.
"Speaking of steel pipes," Will chimes in, flopping back down on the bed and pointing at his own crotch with a sheepish grin.
Skandar reaches over with his other hand, strokes the bulge in Will's skinny jeans, feels the stiff heat of it against his palm.
"This is gonna be a serious test of my multi-tasking skills," he says uncertainly, hooking his fingers into Anna's knickers and simultaneously picking at Will's belt buckle. "How about you deal with your-chastity belt, and I'll-"
Anna bursts out laughing and Will glowers, batting Skandar's hand away. Skandar peels Anna's tights down, giggling as she gleefully kicks off her shoes and watches them bounce off Will's bedroom wall. He pushes up her slip and starts to pull down her knickers, and he can't help himself-he buries his face between her thighs, presses his lips to soft damp hair and listens to her gasp. He grows hard again already, breathes in her scent, kisses her there.
"Skandarrrrr," Will groans, and giving him a sideways glance Skandar sees that he's stripped off completely already.
"C'mere," Skandar mumbles, "'cause I don't wanna move."
Will shuffles over, and Skandar reaches over 'til he feels the hard length of Will's dick, resting heavy and hot against his stomach. He brushes his hand against it then pulls back, chuckling when Will makes a frustrated noise in his throat. He brings that same hand down between Anna's legs, strokes it right along her, gathers her wetness on his fingertips. She whimpers, grabs at his shoulder, but he goes back to Will, curls his slick fingers around Will's cock, strokes smoothly up and down, savours the thick feel of him in his hand.
Anna is writhing a little beside him, bucking up against his mouth, and so he pokes out his tongue, slides it over her and tastes her, shudders a little when she moans out loud. He's only done this once before, and it's one of the things that scares him the most, makes him feel like he's really out of his depth. It doesn't come naturally, but he loves it, loves being down between her legs like this and pressing his mouth to her, suckling her clit and coaxing his tongue inside her.
Will is getting restless too, hips thrusting up off the bed's surface so he's fucking Skandar's fist slowly. It's making a sound, slick and dirty, and Skandar feels his face go hot as he nuzzles between Anna's legs, licks and licks at her, pressing his erection into the mattress. Her fingers grapple at his head, stroke, suddenly grasp a handful of hair as his tongue slides over her swollen clit.
Greedy, he eases out of her grip, replaces his tongue with some trembling fingers and crosses over to Will, leans in over him, bumps his lips gently against the straining length of his cock. The skin clings, hot and slick, Anna's smell mingling with Will's, and Skandar rubs himself against the bed, crumples the duvet beneath him. He kisses the head of Will's dick, the shiny-smoothness of it, his heart pounding in his ears. He breathes in, out, in, out, and then takes Will between his lips, sucks him into his mouth at the same time as he sinks a finger deep inside Anna, feels her pulse around him, soaking wet.
He sucks Will messily, too drunk and too needy to make it perfect, his mouth smeared with spit and pre-cum before long. Will is moaning, fingers grazing Skandar's shoulder, and Skandar tries to keep up, bobbing his head as he fucks Anna with his finger, thrusts in and out of her and presses the heel of his hand to her clit. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her fumble blindly for something to grab hold of and find Will's hand. They clutch each other tightly and Skandar works on them like it's the very last time.
He's jerking Will off with a spit-slick hand, fucking Anna with two fingers and lapping at her clit when she stops him. A flexing of her hand around his shoulder and then a breathless, "I-I-Skandar-"
He stops, pulls back, almost gulping for air, still fully-dressed and too hot and so desperately turned-on that it feels like the room is spinning.
"I need you inside," she murmurs, words blurring together.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she nods, swallows, and he sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and hurriedly yanks off the rest of his clothes.
She's wriggling out of her slip, struggling to get it up over her breasts, and then unclasping her bra behind her back. Her breasts sway free, heavy, nipples pink and hard, and Will tackles her onto the bed, covers her with kisses, his cock pressing against her thigh.
She giggles, writhes beneath him. Skandar hops off the bed and crouches down on the floor, pulling out the drawer under the bed and rummaging around for condoms and lube. Finding them, he leaps back onto the bed and is just getting the packet undone when there's a loud, insistent buzz.
"Oh my god, Georgie, Will's ankle is fine," Skandar groans, leaning across Will and Anna's entwined legs for his phone.
"She's so weird," Anna says absentmindedly, hooking her chin over Will's shoulder to watch as Skandar checks his messages.
"It's Tilda," he says. "She says she told everyone Will tripped over and we took him to A&E in case his ankle was broken," he explains, reading the text, "and, um," he smiles, "she also tells us not to do anything she wouldn't do."
"I think that leaves very little," Anna points out. "Can we have sex now please?"
"I-hang on," Skandar says, "let me just reply. I should probably tell Georgie we're okay, too."
Anna heaves a sigh, and Will laughs, reaching down between her legs and stroking her. Anna makes a vague sort of "nnnn" noise, which is surprisingly distracting when one is trying to respond to text messages.
"Okay!" Skandar announces after tapping out what he's pretty sure were the quickest texts in the history of the universe. He practically tears a condom out of its packet, and puts it on while crawling over to Anna.
She hooks her legs around him, pulls him in so that the head of his dick brushes against her, so hot and pink, wet. She's lying back, arms up behind her head, resting against a pillow, and she looks so gorgeous, so relaxed and natural and at ease. She crosses her feet behind his back and her breasts sway with the movement. He just looks at her, the tangled mass of dark hair around her gorgeous face, her sleepy smile, pink cheeks, her eyelids lowered. He strokes a hand down her torso, teases a nipple between his thumb and fingertip, traces patterns over her pale belly, twirls the dark hair between her legs.
Bzzzzzz.
"Oh my god!" Anna cries, bringing a pillow down over her face and groaning into it with frustration.
Skandar fumbles behind him for his phone, peers at it. "It's Tilda."
"Are we seriously being cockblocked by Tilda?" Will asks.
"Did you seriously just say 'cockblocked'?" Anna asks, voice muffled against her pillow.
"These are both important questions," says Skandar, "as is Tilda's, which I'm not going to repeat right now, but the most important thing is-"
"Is what?" Will asks, his eyes seeming to twinkle mischievously.
"The matter at hand," Skandar replies with a smirk. He throws his phone over his shoulder, hears it land with a clunk on the floor, and then pulls the pillow from Anna's face and sends it in the same direction.
Will settles down beside Anna, rests his head on her chest and watches, watches as Skandar starts to ease himself inside her. He can't help but moan with each tight, hot inch that envelopes him, and Will's hand slips down to where they join just to feel it.
"Ohhhhh, fuuuuck," Skandar groans when she's all around him, and she's grabbing at his hips, fingers kneading his arse.
"Good?" Will murmurs, nips at Anna's nipple with his teeth and makes her body jolt, her cunt clenching tight around Skandar.
"So good," Skandar almost sobs, holding Anna tight by the waist, pulling her down on him so he's as deep as can be.
When he leans down over her, starts fucking her, he finds himself hovering right over Will, and they kiss, soft and then sloppy. Anna moans beside them and Skandar kisses her, now, thrusts his hips faster, harder. Will's hand is down between their stomachs, sneaking down further still and then he's pushing a finger inside Anna, alongside Skandar's cock, and she shudders, clutches him tighter.
He straightens back up, everything too close and too hot all of a sudden, claustrophobic, and he throws back his head as he fucks her, hips pistoning back and forth, Will's finger keeping up with his pace and making everything even tighter and hotter. He can hear the slick sound of Will's hand against his own cock, and then there's movement, the bed creaking and mattress wobbling beneath them. When he opens his eyes, Will is in front of him, standing over Anna with his cock right at Skandar's lips.
Skandar grins up at him and sucks him right in, feels his lips stretch around the taut flesh. He brings his mouth back and forth, strokes his tongue over the smooth head, the ridge, that one vein on the underside. With one hand, he pats the bed aimlessly, trying to find the lube. Eventually his hand lands on a tube and he scrabbles with it for a while before managing to get the cap off and his fingers greased. Taking Will as deep into his mouth as he can, and letting Anna bring herself down on him, fucking herself on his cock, he reaches round to Will's arse.
He slides a finger down, waits and feels the heat against his skin for a moment, then the tight resistance as he pushes inside, gentle and slow but persistent, feeling Will's cock grow even harder in his mouth. He tries to find a rhythm, then, between his hips, his mouth and his finger, but he's clumsy from the alcohol and arousal, and he fails for the most part. But it doesn't matter-Will is grasping at his head and groaning, while Anna is moving with him, meeting his thrusts, making these little weak noises all the while. And he has her tight heat wrapped around him and the thick, hard shape of Will's cock in his mouth, the taste of him on his tongue, his finger held tight to the knuckle. And he has no idea how he's supposed to live without this, how he ever did.
Will's eyes are pricking with tears as he looks down, fingers tangled in Skandar's sweaty curls. He pulls out and Skandar wipes his wet mouth and looks up at him, lips curled into a crooked grin.
"Fuck," he says. Eloquent.
"Yeah," Will nods. He strokes his hand down, curls his finger around the hair at the nape of Skandar's neck. "I-can we-?"
"Yeah," says Skandar, nodding. Their eyes are fixed, he has to force himself to look away. "Yeah, Anna, can we-?"
"Yeah," she says, grinning, pulling herself up off him.
Skandar wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling almost dizzy. Will disentangles himself, and Skandar reaches down between his legs to take his condom off.
"Do we have to-fuck, I can't-is it-" he stammers. His phone buzzes. Will throws something in its general direction. "I'm-ack."
Will looks just as flustered, but he laughs, pulls Skandar's condom off and replaces it with a new one, kisses him and strokes a hot hand down his back soothingly. Skandar smiles against his mouth, pushes him down onto his back and flips his legs up, ducking down to kiss the inside of his thighs, the base of his hard cock, his heavy balls, even that spot that Anna rubbed on him earlier that felt so amazing.
But Will pushes him off, sits up and wrestles Skandar down onto his back, straddling him with a cocky sort of grin.
"This is your send-off," he says, "you shouldn't have to do all the work."
"Yeah, like this is work," Skandar laughs.
But then Will is looping loose fingers around Skandar's cock and carefully bringing it into place, a hot smear of skin on skin and then that first push inside that makes Skandar's body jolt almost involuntarily.
"Stay still," Will says with a hint of a smile. Anna takes hold of Skandar's wrists playfully, pins him to the bed.
"Oh, that's easy for you to say," Skandar retorts, and then makes a noise and struggles a bit as Will lowers himself a little bit further, gasps and tosses back his head.
"Shut up," Will adds coolly.
Anna lets go of one of Skandar's wrists, clamps her hand over his mouth instead. He licks her palm obnoxiously, and she raises her eyebrows and purses her lips at him, before letting go of him altogether and clambering on top of him, sitting right down on him and holding him still with her weight. He can feel the slick heat of her cunt against his chest, the gentle throb of it matching the pounding of his heart.
Skandar's phone buzzes pathetically from somewhere on the floor, and when he starts to laugh, Anna says, "Ah-" and places her finger firmly to his lips to silence him. He rolls his eyes, and then Will is sliding down onto him in one movement, so tight and so hot that he can't help but cry out just a little.
Anna turns, swings around to face away from him and budges back until she's almost straddling his face. He tilts his chin, tries to reach her, but then Will makes a shaky little sound and starts to move, and Skandar's brain short-circuits. Anna brings herself gently down to his mouth and he parts his lips, tongue flickering out unsteadily against her, not sure how much of this he can take at once.
He doesn't seem to get a choice, though, because in seconds Will is riding him, so hard he can hear the slap of skin on skin and feel Will's erection smack down against his stomach with each heave. And the moment Skandar touches Anna's clit, finds the hard little nub against his tongue, she's moaning deep and low and unreserved, unable to hold herself up and almost smothering him. It's too much, too good, and he can't do anything but enjoy it, work his tongue against Anna until it aches, and then keep going, thrusting his hips desperately up as Will rides him at an erratic pace.
His hands slide over Will's hips, over Anna's, clutch at her stomach as his tongue pushes inside her and he mouths at her eagerly. He can't see either of them but somehow only being able to hear them makes it even hotter; he knows that they're kissing, that Anna's jerking Will off as the two of them ride him. And he knows when Will comes, feels the clench, the tension, the shudder and the sudden hot spray across his chest. Will moans mostly into Anna's mouth, and Skandar holds him tight, eases him through it, even as Anna starts to tremble against his tongue.
Feeling them both come brings his orgasm on faster, and it's a matter of seconds before it's rocketing through him, leaving him to mouth wordlessly at slick skin and pump his hips weakly up, up, up. Despite the fact that it's his second orgasm tonight, he still loses feeling in his fingers and his toes, and his brain goes completely foggy.
They get up off him to let him breathe-or rather, pant-and they clean him up, giggling, kissing him gently and pottering back and forth with towels and things. The first thing Skandar notices when he feels properly conscious is Anna standing against the wall, naked, eating a muffin.
"I was hungry," she says, "do you want some?"
After muffins, water, and some brief bedtime bathing, they're back in bed, snuggled up together under a thin sheet with the window open, too hot. Skandar is between Will and Anna, and he savours that feeling, the lovely naked closeness of their bodies against his, because he knows he's not going to feel it again for a long, long time.
Somewhere in the room, his phone buzzes to itself.
***
They come to the airport a few days later to see him off, Will limping ridiculously to keep up their pretence.
"So you thought it might be broken, but it's fine?" Ben is saying to him doubtfully as Skandar hugs various people goodbye.
"Yeah, well, I mean, it's sprained," Will says, chuckling, and Skandar wishes Tilda had picked a less terrible liar to be the one with the injured ankle, "but you know me-drama queen."
"Indeed," Ben says, strangely meaningfully. "Well, bye then?"
Skandar watches the two of them hug, and then as Ben heads off, gives Will a slightly anxious smile. Will pulls him into a tight, fierce, unself-conscious hug.
"I'm gonna miss you," he says into Skandar's neck.
"Duh," Skandar says back, but holds him close, whispers, "me too," into his ear.
Anna stands beside them and he catches her eye. She's fidgeting, watching them, a forced smile on her face.
"Group hug?" Skandar offers, retracting one arm to pull her in towards the two of them.
She giggles, buries her face in his chest, and he squeezes her tight.
"Come visit really soon," he says, trying to keep talking so he doesn't cry or something stupid like that. "Like, right away."
"We will," Anna assures him. "As soon as we can, I promise."
"I'm gonna miss you so much," Will frets.
Skandar laughs, ruffles Will's hair, wishes he could kiss him. "You said that," he reminds him.
"But I-"
"I know," Skandar interrupts. "Me too."
"Me too," Anna chimes in.
"I think they're waiting for me," Skandar whispers after a moment.
"Your Mum is giving us funny looks," Anna informs him. "You've spent longer hugging us than you have hugging her."
"SURPRISE GEORGIE ATTACK!" comes a sudden shriek, a split-second before the three of them are pounced on and the group hug gets even bigger.
"Is this a new thing we're doing now?" Georgie asks, wriggling between Anna and Will. "Because it's kind of soppy." Anna elbows her in the ribs, and she squeals. "Ben!! Anna's hurting me!"
"I forgot how hyper she gets in airports," Anna sighs.
Ben comes over, Will Poulter shuffling after him. "Are you leaving me out of a group hug?" Ben asks, sounding hurt. "But I thought that was our new thing."
"It was our new thing," Skandar whispers to Will and Anna.
"In a way," Will whispers back.
"Now they're whispering," Georgie pouts.
Ben's arms suddenly envelope them, and they all bump and knock against each other, laughing.
"Gooooo Pevensies!" Georgie cheers, grinning.
"Go Pevensies!" Will, Skandar and Anna echo, grinning bravely at each other.
"And whatever Caspian's last name is," Ben adds.
"And whatever Caspian's last name is!"
"And also Scrubb," Ben says, following a slightly awkward pause. Skandar cranes his neck as Ben gestures to Will Poulter to join them.
"Join the hug, Scrubb!" Georgie giggles.
"Oh, I don't know," Will says, scuffing his feet. He smiles shyly, jokes, "I mean, you lot haven't even bought me dinner yet..."
Georgie snorts and she and Ben grab a hold of him and bundle him into the huddle.
"I think they've been waiting for us for like ten minutes," Skandar points out after a moment.
Georgie breaks free. "Hold the plane!" she calls to no one in particular, and then trots off to give her parents one last goodbye. Skandar laughs, forces himself to pull away and shakes his head to try and get that stinging feeling out of his sinuses. He goes to hug his Mum and Dad and sister once more, and then heads down the aisle to security with Ben, Georgie, and Will P.
He keeps turning back, waving, as Will and Anna get smaller and smaller, and then, finally, disappear from view.
This is the first real test of their relationship, and he's not at all sure he's prepared.
Part 8.