fic: Box Seats
John scooted closer to Scott and slid an arm around his waist, his expression some combination of mildly amused and scandalized.
"That's the fourth person that's tried to look under my kilt!"
Scott almost, almost rolled his eyes. "They do know you, y'know."
Smiling mysteriously, John leaned into his partner.
"You don't know what's under it."
"Because you wouldn't let me see you get dressed."
John grinned, wide and promising.
"It's getting warm in here," he said, giving Gavin a wave. His manager-and-friend was caught up in a mass of well-wishers, unable to escape.
"Want to step out for some air?" Scott asked, always solicitous of John's comfort.
"That would be great." John grabbed a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and nodded his head toward the sheer drapes that blew gently in the early evening breeze.
Handing Scott, a glass, John allowed himself to be lead. He was pretty sure that Scott knew he had something in mind, but his husband was, as usually, willing to play along.
There was a selection of large, comfortable chairs on the balcony, and a beautiful view of the city spread out before them.
John steered Scott to a chaise tucked into a corner, though it really wasn't in shadow.
"Here?" Scott looked bemused, but let John push him back onto the lounge.
"Here" John handed Scott John's glass, and then climbed up, smoothing the kilt over his legs and he straddled Scott's thighs.
Scott handed his glass back and John tapped them together.
"Cheers."
They drank. John snorted a little, because champagne made him silly. He bent over carefully and set his own empty glass on the tiled floor.
He watched as Scott drank, eyebrow raised, then took the glass from him and it joined the other.
"What're you up to?" Scott asked, half a laugh in his voice. His hands settled on John's waist.
"What'd'you think?" John wriggled, settling his ass more firmly on John's legs, and then scooted up to straddle his groin.
"Are you wearing anything under that?"
"You're the only one allowed to check," John smirked.
"Should I be...checking?" Scott's hands slid around to cup John's arse, his fingers stroking gently.
"Oh yes," John sighed, leaning back slightly.
Scott slowly slipped a hand down and under the kilt, making it flare slightly in the back. Running them very slowly down the crack of John's exceedingly fine arse, he paused when he felt the tell-tale coolness.
"You didn't." He cocked his head, gave John a surprised, yet resigned, look.
John grinned and wriggled again. He slipped a hand down his own front, barely moving the kilt, and his fingers went unerringly for Scott's zipper.
"I practiced this move," he said, still grinning. But his breath was beginning to come faster.
"John..." Scott sighed, tempted. "We *can't*."
"Gavin would be disappointed if we didn't at least try," John retorted.
"We'll be caught."
"Nobody else out here." John glanced around. "Nothing showing."
He rubbed gently at Scott's cock, pleased to find him half-hard already. "Seems like you like the idea."
"When do I not like the idea of fucking you?" Scott asked rhetorically as he slipped his index finger deeper into John, biting his lip as it slid smoothly inside him.
"Shit, John," he gasped. "You - you're -”
"Really ready for you?" John crooned, dipping his hand into the slit of Scott's boxer-briefs and pulling him out and up.
Scott slid a second finger in, holding back a moan as it went all the way. "Can you -" he had to clear his throat to get his voice above a croak, "-can you take three?"
"I can take anything you want to give me." John scooted forward, just enough to position Scott's cock.
Scott glanced around. He could hear the music from inside, something light that didn't interfere with conversation. Bursts of laughter, people chattering happily. Gavin's distinctive laugh carried clearly through the drapes.
"You're sure?" he asked John. His husband rolled his eyes. "Like I wouldn't be. If we're found out Gavin will count it as a birthday present."
"Another John story," Scott smiled at that, but had to bite back a moan as John moved again, lifting up enough to get Scott's cock under him.
"You'll have to - mmm - remove those fingers, unless you want it to be *very* crowded in there," he moaned out softly.
Scott pretended to think about it for a minute, then shifted his other hand under the kilt as well, using both to spread John enough to make entry easier.
"I think I'm enough for you," he ended on a gasp as John began to slide down. "Oh God."
It came out more loudly than he intended, but he barely glanced at the doors, not with John sitting on his cock. The air was cool, but John was living heat, inside and out. He leaned back as far and the chair would allow and lifted his hips slowly.
"Can't make too -mmm - big of a - ahh! - scene -" he panted.
"Then let me do the work," John sighed. He was hardly affected yet, the bastard.
"Get on with it," Scott grunted, mildly annoyed. But he knew John would be moaning and panting soon enough.
True to his word, John started slowly. He rose up on his knees, just a few inches, and then came back down. Beneath the kilt Scott gripped John's thighs, knowing he didn't have to hold back; John loved being tightly held.
Scott dug his fingers in a little deeper. The marks would be hidden by John's clothes, even if he wore shorts.
John built a rhythm carefully. The chaise was sturdy and stable, but there were two large men fucking. Anything could happen.
He'd just begun to lose his breath when the curtains opened. Catching the movement out of the corner of his eyes, Scott quickly freed a hand and brought John down into a kiss, holding the back of his neck firmly. He felt John's cock jolt against him, trapped between their bellies.
Kissing John fiercely - and he loved how John melted into it, just let Scott have control, loved it - Scott hoped futilely that whoever it was would see them and politely go back inside.
No such luck. He heard a chuckle he recognized and sighed internally.
"Really?" Gavin's voice rolled over them. "Seriously? Scott? You let him put you up to this?"
Scott opened one eye and looked Gavin over. John kept kissing him.
It took a minute to get John to let up, but Scott half-turned, holding back to groan that rose as John twisted around him, and gave Gavin a small smile.
John, on the other hand, gave him a large, winsome grin.
"Who says we're doing anything?" he asked innocently.
"Yeah, you can't pull that off, mate," Gavin shook his head, his own smile amused.
"Hmmm." John pretended to think. "What is it you're saying there, exactly?"
He wiggled just a bit and Scott bit back a gasp. John was so tight around him, so hot. He gave John's thigh a particularly vicious squeeze, but knew it would backfire.
John wiggled again, clearly pleased with that reaction.
Gavin took a couple of steps back and tugged the curtains aside. "Stu!" he called. "Come here, luv. I've a surprise for you!"
Scott groaned and dropped his head forward onto John's chest. John, the bastard, was laughing.
It did strange things to Scott's cock.
"Noooo." Scott groaned.
"We're just having a cuddle!" John insisted, but he was laughing too hard to pull it off. And Scott was enjoying it too much to protest.
"I *knew* there was a reason y'wore that kilt!" Gavin huffed.
Stu stuck his head around the curtains, one hand pulling them back. Scott tried to sit, tucking John's face into his neck, though John's shoulders continued to shake with laughter. "Close those!" Scott managed to gasp.
Taking in the situation, Stu's eyes widened. He hastily closed the curtains behind him and got to Gavin's side.
"Oh my," he said, and then he began laughing, more loudly than John. "Oh you wouldn't!"
"They did!" Gavin said with mock indignation. "At my birthday party!"
"Present -" John gasped out after he managed to turn his head, Scott's grip slipping as John moved on him, just a bit, hopefully not enough to be noticed. "- for you!"
"For me, anyhows," Stu chimed in, now watching avidly. Gavin put an arm around him and started to tug him back toward the doors.
"You owe me so much," he said. "I'm permanently scarred, I am."
"Hang on, I want to watch!" Stu objected, resisting the tug.
"No!" Scott and Gavin shouted together.
John just giggled harder.
"Not much to see, luv," Gavin soothed Stu. "Everything’s hidden under that bloody kilt."
"I could fix that," John giggled out.
"No!" Gavin and Scott did it again. This time it made John laugh out loud, Stu following him.
"Let's get another drink," Gavin huffed, pulling Stu firmly off the balcony. Scott and John could hear them arguing, albeit quietly, and then Gavin's voice rising slightly. "You - yes, you - guard this door and don't let *anyone* get out there, alright then?"
There was a hasty "Yes, sir." and then Scott was moving, dragging John upright, hands on his hips as he urged him to move. Insisted on it, really.
"Ye bloody daft bastard," he ground out. "You planned that!"
"Not exactly," John panted, rally moving now, his thighs shaking under the strain. "Just thought it might - uhn - happen..."
"Wanted it too, more like," Scott tightened his hands on John's hips, using his greater strength to move his husband more quickly. John threw his head back and leaned.
"There, yeah, there -" he moaned. Scott thrust harder, knowing he was in the right spot, knowing that John didn't need any more than this.
"God, baby, so perfect," John moaned more loudly. Scott knew that whoever was watching the doors was getting an earful, but now he didn't care. When John was on him, around him, giving himself to Scott - he was just beautiful. "Harder." John demanded.
Scott shifted again, getting his knees up for more traction, and granted his wish. John stuffed a hand into his mouth to muffle himself and Scott groaned at the sight.
John arched back further yet, a strip of tanned skin showing between kilt and shirt and Scott just started to lose it.
"Come on, come on," he muttered, trying to lean forward enough to lick at that spot. It taunted him, made him stretch and John stiffened, clenching around him, his body shaking with desperately withheld sounds.
"Goooood..." Scott groaned as he came, long and slow, John trembling above him.
After some undetermined amount of time John slumped forward, trusting Scott to catch him, and
Scott held him close. Stretching out his legs, wincing at a slight cramp, he kissed John's face, his ear, his hair; every part of him he could reach with his mouth.
"I love you," he panted. "I could never love anyone the way I love you."
John was silent, softening against him, his arms sliding around Scott. "Just as I am?" he asked quietly.
"Like you need to ask," Scott smiled, lifting John's head. Flushed from the sex, eyes dark and contemplative, John looked at him carefully. "I'm out here with you, aren't I?"
"Yeah," John laughed shakily. "I guess you are."
He cuddled back down and Scott held him while they settled, pulses quieting, breath slowing. He felt himself slip free and mourned the loss of connection, as he always did.
"We should go in," John whispered.
"There's no hurry," Scott lifted his head with both hands and kissed him tenderly. "No hurry at all."
~~the end~~