Nicky and Booker were grappling together in the garden while Joe leaned against the fence, watching. This was a rare treat, actually, because usually he was the one to spar with Nicky in their free time. He loved that, too, loved the physicality of it. He almost never got to just relax and watch Nicky tussling with someone, not to save their lives but just for fun.
He was distracted admiring his husband’s muscles when Nicky pinned Booker to the ground with a triumphant shout, holding Booker’s wrists above his head, his body flush against their teammate’s, and Joe might not have noticed even then if he hadn’t been so intimately familiar with what it felt like to have Nicky’s weight above him, how delicious a feeling it was.
Booker is trying hard to hide it, but it’s the subtle tells that give him away, the strained look on his face, the way he can’t meet Nicky’s eyes, the way he shifts his hips ever so slightly, and oh. Well, then. Joe leans back more against the wooden fence and tries to think about how feels about this revelation.
There’s one thing for sure—he doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest. He knows Nicolo’s heart inside out, and their relationship is more than strong enough to invite someone else into their bed from time to time, or for one of them to have a night’s dalliance if the mood strikes them. They don’t do it often, maybe once every twenty or thirty years, but it’s never been a problem and it never will be.
Booker, though....He honestly had never thought about the other man that way, had always considered him a cherished teammate, a brother even. But he can’t deny that it’s an attractive picture, watching him stretched out under Nicky like that, and suddenly he wants them to kiss with a ferocity that surprises him.
He sees the moment that Nicky picks up on it, when he shifts his hips and feels Booker hard underneath him, and he locks eyes with his husband, silently conveying that he’s alright with this if Nicky is, that he wants to see them come together.
Nicky rolls his hips down against Booker, slowly and deliberately, and Booker yelps, trying to twist away, but the movement just brings his erection in contact with Nicky’s thigh, and Booker can’t stifle a groan at the brief friction.
His cheeks are scarlet, and he begins to stammer out apologies before Nicky cuts him off with a kiss, and oh yes, they make just as pretty a picture as Joe had imagined. Booker is shocked at first, but quickly kisses back, and Nicky smiles against his lips. “Joe and I don’t mind helping you out,” Nicky tells him, gently, and Booker’s eyes are wide, like he can’t believe this is happening. “What do you want?” He asked and Booker moans, hips jerking up. “Anything, Nicky, honestly, anything—“
Nicky hums in thought, pressing a kiss to Booker’s jaw. “What do you think, Joe?” Joe moves a little closer to them, ponders what he would like to see. “Have you ever been fucked, Sébastien?” He asks and the other man gives a little wounded cry. “Yes, in the army, sometimes. It’s been so long though.” Joe nods. “I’d love to see it, I don’t often get to see my Nicolo opening someone else up with his cock.”
Nicky shoots Joe a look full of heat, and mouths at Booker’s neck while he pulls the other man’s shirt over his head, reluctantly letting go of Booker’s wrists to do so. He gets up briefly in order to let Booker take off his pants before he climbs back on top of him, bracketing him with his body, and there’s something about the sight of Booker nude underneath Nicky who’s still fully clothed that gets Joe hot.
“Joe, do you have—“but Joe already knows what he needs, the little foil packets of lube that he keeps around in case he and Nicky are feeling unexpectedly frisky—a fairly regular occurrence—and tosses it to him. “Thank you, my heart,” Nicky murmurs, chewing on his lip in concentration as he eases the first slick finger into Booker.
He really takes his time, since he knows how long it’s been since Booker did this, slowly jacking Booker’s cock with one hand while he opens him up with the other. Booker couldn’t hide his wince at first, but it’s long since gone and he’s pushing back against Nicky’s fingers and pushing forward into the hand around his cock, and Joe’s achingly hard as he watches them.
“I’m ready, Nicky, please,” Booker begs and Nicky nods, scissoring his fingers one last time. As if he knows what it’s doing to Joe, he doesn’t bother to get undressed, just pulls his cock out, jacking himself a few times with the lube. Nicky and Booker both groan as he pushes in, and Sébastien moves his legs so that they’re wrapped around Nicky’s waist, letting Nicky slide deeper into him.
“Santa Maria, Joe,” Nicky curses as he bottoms out. “He’s so tight I can barely move, feels like a velvet glove around my cock.” He gives an experimental thrust, just barely pulling out, and groans again. “Oh that feels good, I don’t know how I’m going to last any time at all.”
Booker laughs, his voice strained. “Neither will I, Nicky, fuck you feel huge.” He knows, intellectually that he isn’t, he saw Nicky’s cock and it was about average, but it’s been so long that the length in him feels enormous, like it’s splitting him open.
Booker goes wild when Nicky starts moving in earnest, making little mewls and fisting his fingers in Nicky’s shirt. “Nicky, Nicky, Nicky,” he repeats like it’s a prayer, like it’s the only thought he’s capable of putting together, and maybe it is. Joe knows what that’s like, has been so thoroughly wrecked by Nicky countless times over the centuries.
Nicky hikes one of Booker’s thighs up a bit to adjust the angle, and Joe knows instantly that he’s hitting Booker’s prostate dead on now from the look of awe on Booker’s face, the way he can’t seem to draw enough breath even to moan. He’s reduced to just gasping against Nicky’s lips, holding onto Nicky’s back for dear life, and Joe isn’t surprised when Booker only makes it through a couple thrusts like that before he spills over his belly. Some of it gets on Nicky’s shirt, Joe notices, and somehow that’s unexpectedly hot too.
Nicky isn’t far behind, Joe can tell, because he knows all of Nicky’s tells, the way he’s biting his lip to try and stifle his moans—a habit born out of decades without much privacy for them to make love in—and the way he’s losing his rhythm, snapping his hips more jerkily. He clutches Booker harder when he comes, but his eyes are on Joe, as they almost always are.
Booker seems to be lost in a sea of bliss as Nicky spills in him, but it fades quickly, and his brow starts to furrow when Nicky pulls out, and he looks over at Joe. “I want you to know, I wasn’t trying to—I mean, I know that you guys are—I didn’t expect to get turned on while we were sparring—“ and Joe has to cut him off with a fond laugh. “It’s okay, Booker. I know you weren’t trying to seduce my Nicolo,” he teases. “I get it, he’s absurdly hot when he’s fighting.”
Booker looks relieved, and then his eyes dip lower, and oh yes, there’s the pretty visible evidence that Joe didn’t mind watching them. “When I was in the army, I also used my mouth on my comrades sometimes,” Booker ventures, and, well. Joe isn’t going to say no to that.
Fill: Booker/Joe/Nicky, sparring leads to sex
Nicky and Booker were grappling together in the garden while Joe leaned against the fence, watching. This was a rare treat, actually, because usually he was the one to spar with Nicky in their free time. He loved that, too, loved the physicality of it. He almost never got to just relax and watch Nicky tussling with someone, not to save their lives but just for fun.
He was distracted admiring his husband’s muscles when Nicky pinned Booker to the ground with a triumphant shout, holding Booker’s wrists above his head, his body flush against their teammate’s, and Joe might not have noticed even then if he hadn’t been so intimately familiar with what it felt like to have Nicky’s weight above him, how delicious a feeling it was.
Booker is trying hard to hide it, but it’s the subtle tells that give him away, the strained look on his face, the way he can’t meet Nicky’s eyes, the way he shifts his hips ever so slightly, and oh. Well, then. Joe leans back more against the wooden fence and tries to think about how feels about this revelation.
There’s one thing for sure—he doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest. He knows Nicolo’s heart inside out, and their relationship is more than strong enough to invite someone else into their bed from time to time, or for one of them to have a night’s dalliance if the mood strikes them. They don’t do it often, maybe once every twenty or thirty years, but it’s never been a problem and it never will be.
Booker, though....He honestly had never thought about the other man that way, had always considered him a cherished teammate, a brother even. But he can’t deny that it’s an attractive picture, watching him stretched out under Nicky like that, and suddenly he wants them to kiss with a ferocity that surprises him.
He sees the moment that Nicky picks up on it, when he shifts his hips and feels Booker hard underneath him, and he locks eyes with his husband, silently conveying that he’s alright with this if Nicky is, that he wants to see them come together.
Nicky rolls his hips down against Booker, slowly and deliberately, and Booker yelps, trying to twist away, but the movement just brings his erection in contact with Nicky’s thigh, and Booker can’t stifle a groan at the brief friction.
His cheeks are scarlet, and he begins to stammer out apologies before Nicky cuts him off with a kiss, and oh yes, they make just as pretty a picture as Joe had imagined. Booker is shocked at first, but quickly kisses back, and Nicky smiles against his lips. “Joe and I don’t mind helping you out,” Nicky tells him, gently, and Booker’s eyes are wide, like he can’t believe this is happening. “What do you want?” He asked and Booker moans, hips jerking up. “Anything, Nicky, honestly, anything—“
Nicky hums in thought, pressing a kiss to Booker’s jaw. “What do you think, Joe?” Joe moves a little closer to them, ponders what he would like to see. “Have you ever been fucked, Sébastien?” He asks and the other man gives a little wounded cry. “Yes, in the army, sometimes. It’s been so long though.” Joe nods. “I’d love to see it, I don’t often get to see my Nicolo opening someone else up with his cock.”
Nicky shoots Joe a look full of heat, and mouths at Booker’s neck while he pulls the other man’s shirt over his head, reluctantly letting go of Booker’s wrists to do so. He gets up briefly in order to let Booker take off his pants before he climbs back on top of him, bracketing him with his body, and there’s something about the sight of Booker nude underneath Nicky who’s still fully clothed that gets Joe hot.
“Joe, do you have—“but Joe already knows what he needs, the little foil packets of lube that he keeps around in case he and Nicky are feeling unexpectedly frisky—a fairly regular occurrence—and tosses it to him. “Thank you, my heart,” Nicky murmurs, chewing on his lip in concentration as he eases the first slick finger into Booker.
He really takes his time, since he knows how long it’s been since Booker did this, slowly jacking Booker’s cock with one hand while he opens him up with the other. Booker couldn’t hide his wince at first, but it’s long since gone and he’s pushing back against Nicky’s fingers and pushing forward into the hand around his cock, and Joe’s achingly hard as he watches them.
“I’m ready, Nicky, please,” Booker begs and Nicky nods, scissoring his fingers one last time. As if he knows what it’s doing to Joe, he doesn’t bother to get undressed, just pulls his cock out, jacking himself a few times with the lube. Nicky and Booker both groan as he pushes in, and Sébastien moves his legs so that they’re wrapped around Nicky’s waist, letting Nicky slide deeper into him.
“Santa Maria, Joe,” Nicky curses as he bottoms out. “He’s so tight I can barely move, feels like a velvet glove around my cock.” He gives an experimental thrust, just barely pulling out, and groans again. “Oh that feels good, I don’t know how I’m going to last any time at all.”
Booker laughs, his voice strained. “Neither will I, Nicky, fuck you feel huge.” He knows, intellectually that he isn’t, he saw Nicky’s cock and it was about average, but it’s been so long that the length in him feels enormous, like it’s splitting him open.
Booker goes wild when Nicky starts moving in earnest, making little mewls and fisting his fingers in Nicky’s shirt. “Nicky, Nicky, Nicky,” he repeats like it’s a prayer, like it’s the only thought he’s capable of putting together, and maybe it is. Joe knows what that’s like, has been so thoroughly wrecked by Nicky countless times over the centuries.
Nicky hikes one of Booker’s thighs up a bit to adjust the angle, and Joe knows instantly that he’s hitting Booker’s prostate dead on now from the look of awe on Booker’s face, the way he can’t seem to draw enough breath even to moan. He’s reduced to just gasping against Nicky’s lips, holding onto Nicky’s back for dear life, and Joe isn’t surprised when Booker only makes it through a couple thrusts like that before he spills over his belly. Some of it gets on Nicky’s shirt, Joe notices, and somehow that’s unexpectedly hot too.
Nicky isn’t far behind, Joe can tell, because he knows all of Nicky’s tells, the way he’s biting his lip to try and stifle his moans—a habit born out of decades without much privacy for them to make love in—and the way he’s losing his rhythm, snapping his hips more jerkily. He clutches Booker harder when he comes, but his eyes are on Joe, as they almost always are.
Booker seems to be lost in a sea of bliss as Nicky spills in him, but it fades quickly, and his brow starts to furrow when Nicky pulls out, and he looks over at Joe. “I want you to know, I wasn’t trying to—I mean, I know that you guys are—I didn’t expect to get turned on while we were sparring—“ and Joe has to cut him off with a fond laugh. “It’s okay, Booker. I know you weren’t trying to seduce my Nicolo,” he teases. “I get it, he’s absurdly hot when he’s fighting.”
Booker looks relieved, and then his eyes dip lower, and oh yes, there’s the pretty visible evidence that Joe didn’t mind watching them. “When I was in the army, I also used my mouth on my comrades sometimes,” Booker ventures, and, well. Joe isn’t going to say no to that.