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a room for three

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The key turned in the lock and John glanced at the clock on his laptop, before hitting save and closing the lid. It was past one in the morning. His brain was still confused from the time difference as it was often after flying home from Jamaica and so he was wide awake. From the living room, he could see Jamie come in through the front door and toe off his trainers before turning, locking the door and plopping his keys into the little bowl on the cabinet.

“Ye’re still awake?” he asked, spotting John, although he didn’t look surprised.

“Yes,” John replied with an exaggerated sigh. “I do wish there was a magic cure for jet lag.”

Jamie smiled at him, that broad, kind smile of his that John adored so much, and came closer. John stood up and embraced him. He smelled of a mixture of sweat, the remains of his cologne, and sex. It was a good smell on him and a smell that made John slightly nostalgic, remembering the bittersweet days at university when he tried to drown himself in the gay clubs of London.

John pulled back, kissed him briefly on the mouth, then asked:

“How did it go?”

Jamie’s ears went pink, but he grinned.

“Weel, it was verra good.”

John picked up his half-empty whiskey glass and offered it to Jamie. His boyfriend of six years, who just had sex with another man who wasn’t John for the first time since they were together, took it and emptied its contents.

“Tell me,” John asked in a light tone, “did he ask you to kneel at his feet and call him ‘sir’?”

Jamie reddened further and John laughed.

“Some of the stereotypes are true, I see.”

The whole thing was surprisingly John’s idea. Jamie and he had a great relationship. They were perfectly compatible both inside and outside of the bedroom. This also meant that they communicated when one of them craved something that wasn’t present.

They haven’t been all too kinky in the bedroom, and that suited John just fine. They did experiment with a few things. One included John’s handcuffs, and he admitted that it was very hot. There was also that thing, that almost became a ritual, after one time Jamie came home, stressed from work, his back one tight knot of muscle. When John asked what would help, he was thinking about a bath or a massage. What Jamie spluttered out, however – embarrassed and fidgeting – was that he just wanted to lay on the couch and hold John’s cock in his mouth.

All this, John was willing and able to give. But sometimes, Jamie wanted – and John suspected, needed – more. One evening they drank almost a bottle of whiskey between the two of them while they picked this apart.

Sometimes Jamie wanted to be in pain. He wanted to be ordered around and punished for disobedience. Taken out of his head with the alternating tools of pleasure and hurt.

“People don’t try to push me around, John,” Jamie explained. “I’m six foot four for Christ’s sake, some people are even afraid to ask me what time it is.”

While John was happy to give it a try, it just never sat right with him. He gave enough orders in his work life, it felt strange, distancing to do that to Jamie. And he hurt, restrained or interrogated more people in real life that he absolutely could not get off on the idea of doing that to someone he loved.

But there were solutions to this, and he said so to Jamie.

“I’m not a naturally jealous person, love. And I do travel a lot. If you want to get involved in the BDSM scene, you have my blessing.”

The way Jamie was, he chewed on it for a good while, but once he made up his mind, he jumped in with both feet. By now, there was a guy he had been in contact with for a month or so, online and in text messages. John liked how slowly they were taking things and Jamie said it helped him to be open that they weren’t negotiating things in person.

And it was an absolute delight to watch Jamie Fraser, the master of a poker face choke on his morning coffee and get a hard-on because of something Jack had written to him.

Finally, today, they set up a date to meet in person. Jamie wanted it to fall on a day where John was in town. John had fun helping him pick out his outfit. They had decided on dark jeans and a blue shirt, that complimented Jamie’s blue eyes and red hair.

“If he can resist you, he’s a stronger man than I am,” he joked.

Judging by the dishevelled state Jamie was in, Jack Randall wasn’t a stronger man.

They settled on the couch and John asked Jamie to tell him how the evening went.

“Weel, at first we just talked,” Jamie started, leaning back on the couch. When his back touched the cushion though he jolted and sat up straighter. John raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt him.

“I was a wee bit uncomfortable, and he wasna kind about it. He mocked me and that made me furious. I thought…” he broke off, frowning. “He’s verra precise with words, ken? So, I thought it would be more impersonal. We hash out something and then do it. But he got under my skin right away.”

“Is that a good thing?” John asked carefully and Jamie laughed.

“Aye, I think so.” He leaned closer to John and lowered his voice in a conspirational whisper. “I suspect he wanted to show off. I think he quite fancies me.”

John’s eyes flicked down to Jamie’s lips forming the words. He couldn’t resist bending forward and stealing a slow, languid kiss.

“He’s got good taste then,” he murmured playfully.

Jamie cleared his throat.

“But he implied that he could easily get someone else, and if I wanted it, I would have to prove it.”

His blush was back and that made John even more curious.

“Did you?” he asked encouragingly.

Jamie’s throat bobbed.

“Aye. He wanted me to get under the table and…” he trailed off. John grinned and finished for him:

“Give him a blowjob?”

Jamie nodded.

“Everyone was doing all sorts of things in that place, so it wasna like ye’d do it in a random bar, but it still… It was so humiliating.”

John was surprised to find, that hearing the story excited him quite a bit. Jamie coughed awkwardly and continued.

“After it was done, he said I’ve earned a reward. He took me upstairs to one of the rooms.”

Jamie swallowed again. John scooted closer and laid a hand on his thigh. Jamie was getting visibly flustered and John felt his own arousal rise to meet his.

“And then?” he asked.

“He had this wee flogger,” Jamie said, his voice husky. “He told me to take off my shirt and whipped my back with it. Hard. It was… it was so good.”

John licked his lips, his fingers instinctively tightening on Jamie’s muscular thigh. He didn’t really understand yet what Jamie was getting out of it, at the same time he enjoyed seeing him like this, relaxed but excited. There was a visible bulge in Jamie’s trousers now, and John trailed his fingers higher.

“To me, it seems like he didn’t quite leave you satisfied, my dear,” he said, letting his voice drop deeper.

Jamie made a sound in the back of his throat that was less like his usual gruff Scottish noise and more like a needy whine.

“No. He said I dinna earn that yet.”

“Well,” John answered, kissing along Jamie’s stubbled jaw, “I politely disagree.”

There was a surge of possessiveness in his belly and he kissed Jamie hard on the lips, while his hand reached its destination and started rubbing Jamie through his jeans. Jamie’s hand mirrored the movement, a John moaned into the kiss. He splayed his other hand over Jamie’s back to pull him closer. Jamie hissed.

John opened his eyes, frowning at his lover with concern.

“Did he hurt you?”

Jamie leaned his forehead against his.

“Oh, aye,” he laughed. “I wanted him to, remember? My back is sore, but ye can touch it as much as ye want.”

It was John’s turn to swallow.

“Show me?”

Jamie untangled himself from John, stood up, and started unbuttoning his shirt. John let his eyes take in every inch of golden skin that was revealed. Jamie’s ruddy chest hair glinted in the light and John idly palmed himself through his trousers. Jamie turned around, and finally, let the crumpled blue shirt fell to the ground.

Jamie’s broad shoulders and muscled back were crisscrossed with thin red marks. The skin wasn’t broken, but some of them were raised, implying heavy impact. John stepped closer and lightly trailed his fingertips along Jamie’s spine. Jamie shivered.

John wrapped his arms around Jamie’s torso and started kissing his shoulder blade. He let his tongue follow one of the red lines and Jamie arched into him.

His hands went to Jamie’s fly and worked his jeans open, so that he could reach inside and stroke him. He was gorgeous like this, like some wild Highland warrior. John felt completely undeserving of such glory. He lightly dug his teeth in and Jamie’s prick twitched in his hand.

“Christ, John, I need ye.”

It was obvious that Jamie enjoyed the slight pain the marks caused him. And so, John grabbed the lube from the side table and made sure to keep kissing, licking and pressing down on the welts while he worked Jamie open.

They ended up with John sitting on the couch, trousers around his ankles, with Jamie straddling him. John loved how Jamie towered over him, bracketing him with his strong thighs, unashamedly chasing his pleasure. He loved his weight pressing down on him, and the way he curled over John when he came.

John followed shortly after, fingers helplessly digging into Jamie’s hips and back.

They rested tangled up, Jamie peppering John’s face with small kisses. He sighed, like a contented, big cat.

“If it bothered ye, I wouldna…” he spoke softly. John shushed him with a finger on his lips.

“I know,” he answered. “I want you to have everything you desire, my dear. And if I’m unable to give you that, then I want you to go out there and get it from someone who can.”

Besides, so far, he had no reason to complain about this arrangement.

***

Him having no objection to Jamie sleeping with someone else didn’t, however, mean he wouldn’t run a background check on Jonathan Wolverton Randall, nor that he wouldn’t confront the guy when said background check came back with one case of (later dropped) physical assault charges.

“I just want to talk to him,” he assured Jamie while putting on his silver cufflinks. “I’m not trying to end this for you. You do trust me?”

Jamie took his face between two big, warm palms.

“Of course, John,” he said, and kissed him on the mouth. “Ye trust me to be honest about my business and I trust ye to do the same.”

Lavender House was the name of the club, and Jamie connected him to Jack. They’ve met in the late afternoon when the place was as good as deserted.

Jonathan Randall was a handsome man, in black jeans, a t-shirt and a quite flashy red leather jacket, with a firm handshake and hazel eyes. John noticed, with some annoyance that he was slightly taller than him. He had long brown hair tied into a messy ponytail and he managed to have a dangerous air while being perfectly polite. John thought beating willing men in his free time bizarrely suited him.

“So, you are Jamie’s other half,” he said with a smile after they ordered beers and set down at a table. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you wanted to meet me.”

“I wanted to see what kind of man Jamie has been spending his time with,” John said, honestly. “I only heard good things about you of course,” he added. Some easy flattery was always a good idea when one wanted to be diplomatic, “but I thought we can all benefit from getting to know each other.”

They made small talk, subtly seizing each other up. Towards the end of it, John finally laid his cards on the table.

“You see, Mr. Randall, my family has been in the private investigation business for many years.” At least, that was the official story and Randall didn’t need to know more than that. “And so, it’s natural for me to look into the people my loved ones have intimate relationships with. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”

He watched Jack’s face carefully. The man looked suspicious, but not alarmed, and John continued. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper, a copy of the police report.

“Can I trust you that nothing like this will happen again?”

Jack picked the paper up, took one good look at it, then leaned back in his chair and gave John a piercing stare.

“Are you jealous, Grey?”

“No.”

It was too quick and John swore internally. He wasn’t jealous, dammit.

“I love Jamie dearly,” he went on, composing himself, “and I want to make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Jack gave him a condescending smile.

“People do hurt the ones they love the most. Some people even take pleasure out of it. And some people, like Jamie, explicitly want to get hurt. That’s kind of the point here, you know.“ He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Have you never felt the urge to cause him pain? Even when he begs you for it?”

The more personal turn of his phrasing punched John in the gut and he pressed his lips together. The man had a way with words, alright. John hated him more and more with each passing second.

“Mr. Randall,” he drawled, flicking down an imaginary dust particle from his shirt cuff, “if I were into these sorts of things, my boyfriend wouldn’t be seeing you. Please don’t waste my time with your little games. Is he safe with you?” he asked, voice hard.

Jack stared at him for the moment, then leaned back again, his face back to a congenial expression.

“Of course.”

“And what about that?” he pushed, nodding towards the paper. It wasn’t his business, but the man got in his face first.

Randall’s temper flared and he crumpled the paper in his fist, then tossed it onto the table.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” he spat. “But I will tell you since you came all the way across town just to be a nosy little prick.”

John balled his hands into fists. It took all his self-restraint not to fling himself across the table and punch the man in the face.

“That man attacked my brother,” Jack said. “And when I protected Alex, he used my hobby to completely blacken my character. They only dropped the charges because there were enough witnesses to see the truth. Most people, just like you, can’t distinguish between simple violence and mutually beneficial arrangements between two consenting adults.”

John gritted his teeth. He was more open-minded than most. It was a completely unfair accusation. Before he could come up with an answer though, Randall spoke again. He sat up straighter and brushed back some wisps of hair with his hand that escaped from his ponytail, visibly composing himself.

“Do you have a brother, Grey?”

John was so surprised by the question that he answered without thinking.

“Yes.”

God, he was going to get whiplash from this fucking man. Jack squinted at him, then laughed.

“Oh, but you’re the little brother, aren’t you? You were always the one who got protected, and you hate it. So now you play tough. I understand it now.” He smirked. “It can be quite cathartic to play on that, you know? To rebel against someone, who makes you obey and then takes good care of you. Let me know if you want to try that sometime.”

John pushed up from the table, chair-legs scraping loudly on the floor. He vaguely registered the bartender casting a concerned look their way. He was seeing red and his hands were trembling with fury.

He reached out, fisted his right hand into the front of the other man’s t-shirt and yanked him closer.

“Cut the shit, Randall,” he hissed. “I don’t need protecting. In fact, I could make you disappear without a trace if you cause any trouble, so you better watch your attitude.”

With that, he shoved Jack Randall back into his chair and stormed out of the club.

***

“He’s such an asshole,” John complained later to Jamie. He composed himself on the way home and after some reflection decided that he might have overreacted things a bit. That still didn’t make him like Jonathan Randall any more.

“What happened?” Jamie asked, sounding concerned and so John told him how the bastard found and pushed all of his buttons. Jamie listened, sympathetically, then poured him a large glass of brandy.

They’ve left it at that, until one day, a few months later Jamie brought the idea up over dinner.

“Ye could come and watch.”

John stared at him.

“Is that usual?”

Jamie shrugged.

“That doesna matter. Jack wouldn’t mind he’s such an exhibitionist.”

“And you?” John asked. That was really the only thing that mattered to him: what Jamie wanted.

Jamie stared at his dinner, his ears turning red. Then looked up, straight into John’s eyes with his startling blue ones.

“I want you to see it. To understand. To see me like that. I…” he shook his head. “I want you to be open with you like that. I cannae go there on my own but you could come and watch.”

***

Jack Randall looked all too smug for his liking when they’ve met again, but Jamie told him a lot about how things went with them, so he didn’t feel as lost as the other man might expected.

Lavender House had multiple rooms upstairs to rent and they retreated into one. It had a bed in the middle and a few chairs, the colors were all tacky, and one of the walls was covered in mirrors, but it smelled clean. It could have been a hotel room if not for the condoms on the little table and a few, strange but strategically placed bars around the room.

When all three of them got inside, Jamie immediately started getting out of his clothes while Jack rounded on John like a particularly excited hyena.

“In this room, I have the authority. Can I trust you to follow simple instructions?”

John bristled but nodded. Jack patted his face.

“Good. First of all, you’re overdressed, now, strip.”

He didn’t see a point of him being naked, other than it being some twisted test from Jack whether he would keep his word about following his instructions. But John wasn’t ashamed of his nakedness. If Jack thought this would make him uncomfortable, he was sorely mistaken.

The man watched him with a sharp gaze and when he was finished, he took his neatly folded clothes from him and put it on a chair, next to his large backpack that seemed to contain all of his kinky supplies. When he turned back around, there was a length of red rope in his hands.

“Do you mind, if I ask you for some insurance that you won’t interfere with the scene?”

John had to consciously refrain from swallowing. There was something about the way Jack was idly twisting the rope around his hands that made his stomach flip. John had no doubt he knew what to do with it, but it was his own reaction to that sight that concerned him more.

He composed himself. He came all this way, and won’t chicken out now.

“No,” he answered, trying to sound casual. “What do you want me to do?”

Jack instructed him to kneel on the floor by the door. He had a good view of the room from here, and while the floor was hard, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.

He felt the rope being wound around his ankles, and it made his skin prickle. He was acutely aware of how close the man’s hands were to the back of his thighs. Jack didn’t touch him more than necessary, but slid a few fingers underneath the rope, before tightening it with must have been several knots. When he was finished, he got another, identical length of rope.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he said, not unkindly, and John obeyed. Jack crouched down with the rope, his hair brushing the back of John’s neck and he suppressed a shiver.

His wrists got similarly bound, the smooth rope sliding on his skin in an almost hypnotic way. This then got secured to the rope around his ankles, and the finality of the last knot made John’s heart race. He was left with some wiggle-room and nothing was straining or digging in, however, he would have been in trouble if he wanted to move from the spot. He flexed against the ropes. His heart jumped when they cut off his range of motion.

“Comfortable?” Jack asked with a crooked smile. This time, John swallowed audibly.

“Yes,” he said defiantly, holding eye contact.

“Good. Enjoy the show, Johnny.”

He turned towards Jamie.

“Let’s get you prepped. Fetch my paddle from my bag, Jamie dear, will you?”

Jamie took a step towards the bag, and Jack immediately stopped him with a hand on his hip. He tsked.

“We talked about this, Jamie. You want to show your boyfriend how good you are, no? Then don’t force me to punish you.” His tone was stern, but there was a distinct edge of playfulness in it compared to how he talked to John when he confronted him. John found comfort in intellectually analyzing the situation and realizing the performative nature of it. No matter what Jamie did, Jack would have found a way to reprimand him, because that’s what they were doing. Creating friction between them and getting off on it.

Jamie glanced at John, then back. Finally, he lowered himself to the ground and crawled over on all fours to the bag. Even in this humiliating position, he was graceful, the strong lines of his naked body gloriously on display. John’s prick stirred with interest.

When Jamie got the toy, Jack made him bend over the bed.

“Feet apart. There’s a good lad.” Jamie was facing away from John, so he got a perfect view of Jamie’s muscled backside And because of the mirror on the back wall, Jamie could see him, and his half-hard erection quite well. He gave him a cheeky grin and John smiled back.

A loud smack brought them back to the moment and they both flinched. Jack was grinning, the paddle still across his palm, enjoying the effect.

“If you gentlemen are done flirting…”

He walked over to Jamie and stroked his hair lightly. John’s fingers twitched with the urge to do the same.

“You know the rules. You can count if you want, but no coming without permission.”

“Yes, sir,” Jamie said.

Jack rounded him, and without further ceremony swung his arm and brought the paddle down across Jamie’s ass. Jamie grunted, and John watched, mesmerized as the pale and freckled globe bounced from the impact and turned pink in a patch.

Jack continued, alternating between the two sides until Jamie’s whole ass was a blotchy pink color. Jack swung again, and John saw in the mirror how Jamie bit his lip and held onto the bedsheets with white knuckles.

“Don’t hold back, Jamie. Scream,” Jack instructed in an impassive voice. The next blow landed at the juncture of his upper thigh and Jamie jerked, biting down on his lip, even as tears sprung visibly in his blue eyes.

“What is it?” Jack asked all mock concern. “Still your pride? Or are you embarrassed?” He glanced over his shoulder at John and grinned. Then turned back and all but barked at Jamie. “You know I don’t care either way. Scream.”

The last word was punctuated with a hard blow, and this time, Jamie obeyed.

John would have felt bad, but the spanking clearly turned Jamie on. He was rocking with each blow and occasionally John got a glimpse of his erection that he ground into the mattress with each movement.

By the time they were done, Jamie had tears on his face. Jack's face was flushed as well a vein throbbing on his neck. He got a tissue and wiped Jamie’s face with surprising gentleness, then helped him up. Jamie blew his nose loudly, and eventually stood up, muscles jumping in his legs.

“Now that you’re warmed up, I have a treat for you.”

Jamie stood by the wall while Jack went back to his bag and pulled out a few things, setting them on the chair. He opened a packet of alcohol wipes and lifted one of the other items casually while wiping it down so that both John and Jamie were able to see it.

It was a long and narrow piece of stainless steel, its surface slightly textured and John was all too aware of where that was supposed to go. His hands flexed instinctively to cover himself, only remembering too late that he couldn’t, when the ropes stopped his movement. Even his dick, which was very interested in the proceedings so far seemed to wilt self-protectively.

Jamie sucked in a breath and pressed himself to the wall, but his hard-on didn’t go anywhere. Jack grinned. The implement both looked threatening and very delicate between his long fingers. He grabbed two small packets of lube and walked back to Jamie.

“You can hold onto that if you need to,” he nodded towards the bar at the base of the ceiling. His tone suggested that he expected Jamie to need it. He slicked up both the sound and Jamie’s erection with lube, his movements tortuously slow. John had to admit, his hands were mesmerizing. Jamie whimpered as Jack circled the head of his prick with a thumb, spreading the pre-come around, while Jamie gripped the bar over his head. He was breathing heavily, his strong chest rising and falling as if he had just run a mile.

Jack placed the tip of the rod where his thumb was a second ago, still holding Jamie’s member in his fist, and asked.

“What’s your color, lad?”

“Green, sir.”

“Then hold still. This is delicate work.”

With a wolfish smile, Jack tilted the sound into a vertical position and it started sliding into Jamie’s erection.

John gasped, but it couldn’t be heard over Jamie’s much louder moan.

“Oohh.”

John had never heard such a noise from Jamie. It was a sound of pure, helpless ecstasy.

Now, that John’s subconscious understood that it wasn’t his prick that would be subjected to what looked like torture – even if based on Jamie’s expression must have felt like heaven – he started to harden again.

“You are a magnificent creature,” Jack said, voice deep and reverent.

John couldn’t help but agree. Jamie was gripping the bar with both hands now, his whole body on display. Every muscle was strung tight, his face was flushed and his proud member red where it was trapped between Jack’s hands.

Jack wasn’t unaffected either. He was standing slightly to the side, probably to give John a better view of Jamie, but his tight jeans were leaving nothing to the imagination. John didn’t expect to enjoy watching this much, but he found himself squirming on his heels, his prick leaving a wet patch on his belly.

Jack slowly moved the sound in and out. It went surprisingly deep, and every tiny movement made Jamie moan.

“How does that feel?” Jack asked, voice husky. “Is that nice?”

“So good, sir,” Jamie answered, and his voice made John’s prick jump.

Jack stroked Jamie with his other hand, twisting his wrist in a way John knew for a fact drove Jamie crazy. Jamie’s hips stuttered.

“Ah-ah,” Jack reprimanded him. “Keep still.”

Jamie cast his eyes towards the ceiling and bit his bottom lip but managed to stop the movement. His blue eyes were glazed over and glistening from unshed tears of pleasure. His wild red hair was standing on end. His muscles were shaking and sweat poured down on his whole body.

John watched in awe, understanding that this was what Jamie wanted him to see.

He was so far gone, moans and bit-off words pouring from his lips, completely unashamed in his pleasure. That was what excited John more than anything.

“You love this, don’t you?” Jack crooned. “You just love being penetrated, doesn’t matter which little hole on your body.”

The words seemed to turn on Jamie even more and John didn’t blame him. Hell, it was even doing it for him.

“And you love the sick pleasure of watching me strung your prick up like a bead.” Jack continued, filthy words coming conversationally onto his lips.

Jamie whimpered and nodded.

“Sir, please, can… can I come?” he pushed out, voice wrecked.

“Already?” Jack teased, letting the rod slide even deeper. Jamie gasped.

“Please, I cannae… cannae hold it.”

“Alright,” Jack relented. “You may come now, Jamie.”

That was all it took. Jack pulled the rod slowly out, his fist still stroking Jamie’s length and John could see the orgasm crushing through his body. When Jack pulled the sound completely free, Jamie spilled all over himself and his hand with a whine.

Jack led him back to the bed and helped him lay back down. Jamie hissed and resisted for a moment.

“I know, you’re sensitive,” Jack murmured. “It’s okay, settle down.”

Jamie did, and Jack put a blanket over him. Jamie was watching John with half-closed eyes, smiling and John couldn’t help but smile back.

Jack, however, turned his attention to John.

“I see you liked what you saw,” he said with a raised eyebrow, pointedly looking at John’s raging erection. John didn’t grace that with an answer. Jack stepped closer. He was sporting a hard-on, that much was obvious. “Is watching all that you intended? Or do you want to join?”

John looked the man up and down. He was clearly just as turned on by the play as John was and wasn’t trying to hide it. While he lacked Jamie’s imposing height or built, he wasn’t unattractive.

“What do you have in mind?” John asked cautiously.

Jack walked closer, casually carding his fingers through John’s hair. John shivered.

“You do something nice for me, and I let you fuck Jamie, how does that sound?”

John bristled at the implication that Jack had to let him do anything to his boyfriend. But, after all, he was currently naked and trussed up at the man’s feet. And from the way he stood over John with his hips right in front of his face, John could make an educated guess about what kind of favor he had in mind. What the hell, he thought and nodded.

Jack pushed his jeans down letting his cock spring free. John licked his lips. The thing was, he really had no objections to sucking dick. The man was a bit of an asshole, but at least a good-looking one. Jack stroked himself with one hand while combing the fingers on the other hand through John’s hair once more, this time with a hint of nails. He fisted his hand into his hair and angled his face up a bit. John vaguely thought that he shouldn’t be so turned on by this, but then couldn’t be bothered to feel bad about it.

“What’s your color?” Jack asked. It was the first time he asked him like that and John felt a surge of excitement at being properly included.

“Green.”

“Good, now,” Jack placed a little bell in John’s bound hand, “you drop that if it changes. Because,” he added, dragging a thumb across John’s bottom lip, “you won’t be able to talk for the next while. Open up.”

John did, and the other man’s hardness slid into his mouth. He groaned, closing his lips around it. Okay, he liked that. A lot, actually. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he liked giving head, only a little uncomfortable that it was Jack’s and he still didn’t mind it.

“That’s it,” Jack crooned, guiding his head with a firm hand. “Relax your jaw. Mind your teeth and use your tongue.”

Irritation flared in John’s chest. He knew very well how to suck a dick, thank you very much. He tried to say so, even if it only came out as an angry mumble. Suddenly, Jack pulled him off and slapped his face with the back of his hand.

“Quiet.”

It was more startling than anything else. But what really gave John a pause was how his own prick throbbed at it. He didn’t get time to contemplate it, Jack pushed back in. It was a second later that John realized that he could simply let the bell fall from his fingers and back out. Jack started moving his hips in gentle thrusts and there were tingles running down John’s spine.

Fuck. He really actually liked this. It had the same strangely meditative quality as when Jack used the ropes and John decided he had to do some serious soul-searching on that later. In retaliation, he made sure to use every trick he knew.

“God, you love this,” Jack panted. “If I knew it only took this to make you shut up…”

John made a sound, slightly embarrassed, and very turned on, his eyes meeting Jamie’s across the room.

John could feel the other man was getting close. He was therefore slightly disappointed when he pulled out. Jack started stroking himself, fast, all the while keeping a firm grip in John’s hair. They locked eyes, and John realized what he was about to do. He thought he should say something. But the heat rushing through his body only made his hips stutter, futilely searching friction. Jack came on his face with a savage grin, with a few hot pulses. John almost followed him out of sheer sympathy. Sweet Jesus, that was hot.

Jack swiped some of his seed up with his thumb and pushed it into John’s mouth. John automatically sucked on it. It tasted faintly bitter, like green tea, but not unpleasantly. And so, he accepted it when the man fed him more.

“Have an oral fixation much, Johnny?” Jack murmured, entertained. “I should let you sit next to me when I’m doing boring admin work and use your mouth whenever I like it. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

John shot him a what he hoped was a menacing glance, but well, actually, that was a fantasy he didn’t mind keeping for rainy days.

Finally, Jack rounded him and started untying the ropes. His large, warm hands massaged his wrists with surprising gentleness. He even helped him up and handed him a tissue to wipe his face clean.

Then, he guided him to Jamie.

“Do you want your boyfriend to fuck you, Jamie, hm?”

“Oh John,” Jamie sighed, “Mo chridhe, please.”

Jack squirted some lube on his long fingers and slid them down the crease of Jamie’s ass. Jamie groaned. Jack’s fingers dipped back in casually, and John was unable to look away.

“Are you sure?” John asked, uncertain. “Isn’t it too much?”

Jack grinned.

“Oh, but Jamie loves it when he gets oversensitive, don’t you Jamie?”

“Aye,” Jamie panted. “Please?”

John didn’t protest further. He reached out to take the lube from Jack, but the man pulled it away and squeezed out some more into his own hand. Then, he wrapped his hand shamelessly around John’s dick.

“Fuck,” John managed, “you.”

Jack sniggered.

“Not me, Johnny.”

“Dinna be gentle,” Jamie said. “I want to feel this tomorrow, John, please.”

Even John’s self-restraint had its limits. And his beautiful lover splayed out on the bed, red arse up, begging him to take him absolutely made him reach that limit. He crawled on top of Jamie and sucked his earlobe between his teeth.

“Tomorrow?” he growled into his ear. “You’ll feel it for a week, darling.”

Jamie whined and John eased himself into him. After a few experimental thrusts, he began to fuck him in earnest. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jack settling on a chair, and openly watching them, but it didn’t matter. Only Jamie mattered his movements, his sounds of pleasure. He draped himself over Jamie, kissing the back of his neck, and shoulders, murmuring his name into his hair. Jamie arched into him, heedless of his previously abused flesh.

“You’re so beautiful, Jamie,” John panted between thrusts. “So gorgeous. You were so good. Thank you for showing me. Thank you for letting me see this. I love you.”

John fucked him quick and hard until both of them came with a mingled shout. They lay there, limbs tangled together, idly stroking and kissing each other’s skin for some time. John vaguely registered a box of tissues being tossed to the bed.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” Jack Randall said from behind them, sounding amused. “I’m off. Call me if you need something.”