( [glance] [glance] [snatch] You are now my RPF bitch. )
"That's it?" Oscar asks, one eyebrow raised. "That's all you want?"
Adam blinks at him. He hears a stiffled sound next to him, and turns to see Domhnall badly hiding a smile behind his hand.
"...Yeah..." Adam drawls slowly, dark eyes darting between the two other men. A light flush spreads from his ears to his face to his neck in the silence. "Unless... Unless that's too..."
He trails off, feeling a hand on his knee, feeling it slide up his thigh. Domhnall is still smiling, but his bright eyes are more pupil than iris now.
"No no, it's good," he murmurs.
"Great," Oscar adds, standing slowly with a stretch. His fingers work at the buttons on his shirtsleeves as he steps closer and reveal his tanned forearms.
"A great start," Domhnall continues as he leans closer to Adam, aiming for the strip of neck between his shirt collar and his long hair.
Adam hums, a little awkwardly, and grants Domhnall better access. His large hand finds a slim hipbone easily. His fingers play at the bottom hem of Domhnall's T-shirt and help it ride up as the redhead situates himself against Adam's side.
"What do you--ah," Adam tilts his head back to rest on the couch. Oscar looms over him, them, so he directs his question upward. In a mumbled rush, he asks, "What do you want me to do?"
Oscar looks thoughtful for a moment. Then his hand lightly traces Adam's cheek and combs through his hair. He maintains eye contact as his other hand ruffles red locks and his chin points to Domhnall.
"Him," he says playfully. Adam's groan is cut short by Domhnall's fingers slipping under his belt, but only briefly, teasingly. It distracts him from Oscar, who is now half-sitting half-leaning on the couch. With his lips inches from Adam's ear, it's clear his voice is growing rougher by the minute. "For starters."
"Nnngg, god, I--please--I..."
Domhnall laps at the hollow of Adam's throat, and over the sounds he elicits he says to Oscar, "Take care of that, would you?" His free hand gesture's vaguely to Adam's jeans.
"Heh, yeah, he looks achingly uncomfortable."
Adam says nothing, nothing coherent anyway, but he grabs a fistful of Oscar's shirt and pulls.
"All right, all right. One dirty fantasy, coming right up."
Not long after that, Adam realized just how tame his request actually was, and just how good a team Domhnall and Oscar were together. Next time he would get one of them to make a suggestion first. Maybe he would be better at fulfilling desires than expressing them.
MISFIRE FILL
"That's it?" Oscar asks, one eyebrow raised. "That's all you want?"
Adam blinks at him. He hears a stiffled sound next to him, and turns to see Domhnall badly hiding a smile behind his hand.
"...Yeah..." Adam drawls slowly, dark eyes darting between the two other men. A light flush spreads from his ears to his face to his neck in the silence. "Unless... Unless that's too..."
He trails off, feeling a hand on his knee, feeling it slide up his thigh. Domhnall is still smiling, but his bright eyes are more pupil than iris now.
"No no, it's good," he murmurs.
"Great," Oscar adds, standing slowly with a stretch. His fingers work at the buttons on his shirtsleeves as he steps closer and reveal his tanned forearms.
"A great start," Domhnall continues as he leans closer to Adam, aiming for the strip of neck between his shirt collar and his long hair.
Adam hums, a little awkwardly, and grants Domhnall better access. His large hand finds a slim hipbone easily. His fingers play at the bottom hem of Domhnall's T-shirt and help it ride up as the redhead situates himself against Adam's side.
"What do you--ah," Adam tilts his head back to rest on the couch. Oscar looms over him, them, so he directs his question upward. In a mumbled rush, he asks, "What do you want me to do?"
Oscar looks thoughtful for a moment. Then his hand lightly traces Adam's cheek and combs through his hair. He maintains eye contact as his other hand ruffles red locks and his chin points to Domhnall.
"Him," he says playfully. Adam's groan is cut short by Domhnall's fingers slipping under his belt, but only briefly, teasingly. It distracts him from Oscar, who is now half-sitting half-leaning on the couch. With his lips inches from Adam's ear, it's clear his voice is growing rougher by the minute. "For starters."
"Nnngg, god, I--please--I..."
Domhnall laps at the hollow of Adam's throat, and over the sounds he elicits he says to Oscar, "Take care of that, would you?" His free hand gesture's vaguely to Adam's jeans.
"Heh, yeah, he looks achingly uncomfortable."
Adam says nothing, nothing coherent anyway, but he grabs a fistful of Oscar's shirt and pulls.
"All right, all right. One dirty fantasy, coming right up."
Not long after that, Adam realized just how tame his request actually was, and just how good a team Domhnall and Oscar were together. Next time he would get one of them to make a suggestion first. Maybe he would be better at fulfilling desires than expressing them.