Chris Colfer/Darren Criss/Mia Swier
recreational drug use, barebacking, threesome sex, etc.
I never actually posted Switch on LJ but I'm testing this here to see if I can, because it's significantly shorter than Switch. Still in font and formatting hell, though. :)
“Oh my god, Rollergirl!” Chris exclaims, clapping his hands with delight when he opens the door to see Mia striking a disco diva pose on his porch. He grabs her and hugs her, her arm that was raised in a dance move draping down about his head, her fingers twining up the back of his neck and into his crazy hair.
“Oh shit you’re a Derby Doll. You’re like, every college lesbian fantasy come true right now. Fuck. I’m gonna lick you later, remind me.”
Chris nods and laughs ok, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms as he thinks of what exactly her sunny retro halter top reminds him of. “Actually you’re more of an Amber Waves,” he decides, nodding to himself, pleased that he figured it out.
Mia grins at him with pride. “Very good! I’m always so relieved when you know film references from the 90’s,” she says, tilting her head to scrutinize him and chewing on her lip. “Weren’t you like, 6?”
“Shut up. I’m catching up as fast as I can, but you people keep getting older too you know. Where’s the boy?”
“In the car putting on more eyeliner, of course.”
“Oh lord...no eyepatch?”
“He couldn’t find it. Hey, it’s your theme. You know he only knows one way to play ‘pirate’...well two, I guess,” she says with a twisty smirk.
Chris narrows his eyes and thinks. “...ok that took me a second. Filthy. Clever, but filthy.”
“You know I try. Com’ere, birthday boy...” She lifts on her toes in his arms and Chris lowers his head to kiss her, sweet and soft. She smells different today, more like Darren’s house, more like California. She pulls at his lower lip, just the tiniest nip in her kiss, and he smiles down at her. From the driveway, Darren blows the horn.
“That fucking...” Mia groans, rests back down on her heels and leans against Chris’s chest to laugh.
“Why do we even?” Chris rubs her back, bare skin on his hand that no longer feels foreign or forbidden, just feels like Mia.
“I don’t know, krispie treat. Come on, we can make out in the backseat while he drives.” She drops his hands and starts down the stairs, flipping Darren off as Chris grabs his keys from inside the door and locks it, follows after her.
Chris scampers to the driver’s side first, flings the door open to glare at Darren. “You look absolutely fucking ridiculous. I missed you.”
Darren caps the eyeliner and tosses it in the cupholder, swivels to look him up and down. “You look fucking hot...I missed you too!” Darren grabs him practically into his lap in the driver’s seat, and Chris reaches up for a handful of curls. Darren’s hair is fluffy, messy, maybe the longest he’s ever gotten to feel it in his fingers. He pulls Darren’s mouth to his and just takes. It’s a good kiss, one Chris has been missing too often and too much. Too many late night jam sessions, too many musicians and friends and parties always wanting him. Chris wants him too though and needs to remedy that, he thinks, as Darren cups the back of his head, slides his tongue along his palate.
Chris’s cheeks feel hot pink when he pulls back, looks at Darren still holding him around the waist, smug, wearing a fucking pirate blouse, a lopsided smile and too much eyeliner. Mia drums on the backseat, makes bass noises with her mouth, and Chris just smiles. He fucking loves his birthday.
There’s a makeout corner, easily discernible to every barely pubescent 5th grader, in every roller rink, either by design of an architecturally inexplicable nook behind a partial wall, or by accidental burned out fluorescent light tubes that no one has bothered to replace since the 60’s.
Darren, with his stupid surprising athletic grace and agility, finds a burst of speed and grabs Chris’s arm as he rolls by to Wild Ones, pulls him right into this spot, of course. Chris crushes against Darren as his body hits the back wall, stopping them both with a thud, and Chris gasps, the breath a little knocked out of him and Darren’s hands pulling grabby at his hips. Mia skates up just in time to block them from view at least a little, twirling distractingly and showing off a couple of different spins she knows. Darren braces his skates against Chris’s and slumps lower down the wall as Chris crowds over him, Darren straining up to kiss him but his lips are just out of reach. Chris grins, faint streaks of fine glitter on his cheeks and arms shimmering in the disco lights.
“You’re gonna get us caught, you know. Then you’re going to be in trouble,” Chris mouths against Darren’s ear, wisps of curls and thick stubble on his neck tickling his lips as he pushes himself off the wall behind them, but Darren holds him tight.
“Trouble with who? You?” Darren’s smudged, dark-rimmed eyes twinkle as he glances over Chris’s shoulder, around the room at their friends and colleagues zipping by in sequins and mismatched Halloween costumes. “You think anyone here doesn’t at least suspect, or wonder?”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Wondering and actually seeing you try to rub your dick against my thigh are very different.” Chris nudges his knee against Darren’s groin to press his point, and Darren groans. “And my publicist is here. Let’s not give her a heart attack just yet--”
“--oh she definitely suspects,” Darren cuts him off, tip of his tongue poking between his teeth and lips, shifting his hips so they’re no longer aligned perfectly with Chris’s thigh.
“She suspects, and dutifully ignores, and tries not to think about, and drinks when that doesn’t work, and I don’t ever, ever want to have that conversation with her, so.” Chris manages to push away when he tries this time, uses his momentum to spin into Mia’s space and takes her hand to twirl her, Darren looking on with a pout. Chris crosses behind Mia and skates past Darren, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the wall as he does, smiling as he pulls them both back out into the dancing lights, lets go of their hands as he spirals away.
It’s late and the makeout corner has been well-visited, most of their snuck in punches, concoctions, pot brownies, and one chocolate mushroom truffle split three ways (though Vanessa proudly announced she’d brought enough for the whole class), consumed, when Mia’s skate wheel sticks on a turn. Chris sees Darren try to grab her by her ass but she falls kind of spectacularly, catching herself on one hand. They’ve all taken a spill or two or seven tonight as the party has gone on and people’s skating moves have gotten more creative with daring or intoxication, so he doesn’t think anything of it until he sees her grimacing and rubbing at her wrist.
Chris can’t really remember ever seeing her express pain, and it kind of pinches at his heart in a nagging way that’s befuddled by the lights and the slight edge of the mushrooms creeping around his periphery. Darren is looking between a comically giant styrofoam cup of ice and a tiny bottle of Maker’s Mark he pulled from his vest, as if figuring out how best to apply both, Mia leaning on him and mustering a soft but pained smile as Chris skates up.
“Time to not be on wheels anymore?” he offers, smile twisting at the corners as he feels both sympathy for Mia and a weird wave of chest-crushing, almost overwhelming love for both of them. He wonders if there was maybe a little something else in the chocolate too, and definitely wouldn’t put it past Vanessa.
“I think so, krispie treat.” Mia scowls and sips the Maker’s as Darren tries to fit her whole hand in the cup of ice and Chris can’t help his burst of mocking laughter.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Darren...” Chris wheezes, still in hysterics as he pulls out his phone to call the car service to come fetch their wasted asses.
“They don’t teach first aid at theater camp, OK?! Also I’m pretty high. Also I kind of invited people to afterparty at my place...” Mia just shakes her head at him like he’s an idiot and Darren looks like he’s confused by everything, including himself, until Chris singsongs right in his face, making Mia fall over laughing in Darren’s lap and spill the ice everywhere.
“No birthday sex for meeeeeeee, only Weezer covers all niiiiiiiiiight...”
It’s always more fun at Darren’s late night bullshit jamborees than Chris expects. This one is all for him so he feels guilty begrudging it just a bit. It’s his almost-birthday, after all. He can’t help that he’d rather be cuffing Darren to his bed and licking his way between his thighs right now than watching him and Matt dueling guitars on a somewhat horrifying yet entertaining rendition of Jesse McCartney’s Blow Your Mind...but still, it is fun.
Mia wraps her arms around him, Chris being very careful to gently cradle her hurt wrist, while Darren plays piano and Rebel sings Fernando for him and it’s awesome. Darren somehow segues this into something that Chris recognizes as Whatta Man but it must be the original version, which Chris isn’t familiar with.
Hearing Darren sing it, the perfectly old-soul crackle of ache in his voice, seeing him roll his hips on the bench, his hands up and down the keys, that innate, bluesy rhythm that somehow possesses his whole being, makes Chris feel tipsy again even though he thought was finally mostly sober. He leans back against Mia woozily and she murmurs something in his ear, presses her lips along his jaw. Darren sidles over to them in a down moment, kisses Mia and fusses over her wrist, asks her if she’s sure she’s ok and she groans, kisses him and shoves him back toward the piano. Darren catches Chris’s eye, stares for a moment, until Chris nods serenely, like he understands. He does.
It gets later, and weirder. Despite Mia’s insistence she’s ok, Chris can see the pain and the tiredness around her eyes every time she forgets and moves it, even just to lift a plastic cup or pick up her purse. When everyone left has progressed from obsessively rehashing each snippet of rumor they’ve heard about the Yoshimi musical finally actually getting staged--Chris and Mia exchange a long-suffering look, knowing exactly how resentful Darren is about that one and how hard he’s trying to keep a poker face on his absolutely irremediable desire to throw his hat in the ring for it--to settling on performing the whole album right now and trying to use every instrument in the room, Chris knows it’s time.
“Do you want to go to Urgent Care?”
“Is that a line? It’s terrible. I mean I’ll still sleep with you but that’s awful.”
“Mia...serious. I can call the car back?” Chris drops his voice, touches her hands gently.
She looks up, rolls her eyes at him a little, but there’s a soft sadness there and he doesn’t miss it. She shakes her head, brushing him off with an anxious smile and almost looking embarrassed. He frowns, holds out a hand to help her up. With her good hand, she accepts it.
They raid Darren’s fridge for a chilled bottle of champagne and two Italian ices, the medicine cabinet for some leftover Flexeril with Joey’s name on it, and take it all into the bathtub.
“Exactly how I imagined my 22nd birthday. In a bathtub with a naked woman. Can’t even tell you.” Chris shakes his head softly, but he’s smiling, pouring water down her hair and watching the glitter floating off of their bodies and settling amongst the mounds of bubble bath.
“It’s not your actual birthday yet. There’s still time to gay it up...get some hot dick up in here.” Mia tries to reach back and slap at his ass but the movement makes her cringe and she actually sort of cries out from it. Chris winces with sympathy pain, he can’t help it. He shifts carefully to a position he can better support her, trying not to slosh water over the edge or hurt her, and leans his arm where he can gently take her wrist in his hand without bending it.
“Uh huh, where’m I going to get that? Be still, I’m doing something here.”
“Hmmmm...I know a guy. He’ll be here soon. He does have a dick.”
“He’s kind of hot, I guess,” Chris offers in agreement, slipping his wet fingers carefully along her wrist, not massaging, just gliding back and forth, barely touching.
“What are you...doing?” Mia tilts her head to watch his hand on hers, water droplets falling around them.
“Can you feel it? It’s like a...ninja secret. Kind of reiki. Kind of...I just taught myself, I don’t know.”
“Of course you did. It actually feels a little better. When you do that.”
“Ninja powers...yes.” Chris splashes a little excitedly in the tub, reaches for a sip of champagne with his free hand and then focuses back on making as much ninja pirate energy radiate from his fingers as he can summon.
Mia takes the champagne from him, holds it between her knees and laughs, her head lolling happily against his chest. “Or, you know, the Flexeril and booze finally kicking in...” She licks her Italian ice and follows it with a sip from the bottle.
“Could be. Or, I really do have secret ninja powers.”
She twists a little further to actually look him in the eyes, totally sincere, and as soothed as Chris hoped he was making her feel. She tilts her head and kisses him, actually kisses him, heavy and kind of deep and Chris sighs, lets her in a little more, lets his tongue touch hers and it’s still surprising every time. Chris brushes his wet hair out of his eyes and pulls her gently closer, kissing and smiling against each other’s lips. The soft swell of her breast rises with the foamy water and brushes against his chest, and Chris giggles.
“Too much boob?” She laughs, still kissing him.
He moves his hands, lets his fingers skate down her ribcage, along the sides and under the curves of her breasts beneath the warm water. He shakes his head, pulls back. “No, oh please. They’re...very nice boobs.”
“God you’re so gay.”
“So are you!”
“Point.” She kisses him again, and he floats underneath her, just feels her and her lush mouth, cool with lemon ice, the buzz of champagne and warmth and everything else until Mia starts to slip in his arms, because she can’t really hold on. She rolls over again, her head on his chest and a delicate hmmmm on her lips, leans back into Chris and takes another sip of champagne.
“Your gay ninja powers are very real...I totally believe. You know I do.”
Chris turns his cheek and rests it against her smooth shoulder, closes his eyes, and hums. “I know you do. Because you’re awesome.”
Chris rouses awake to a series of loud thumps, a heavy shifting on the bed and a lot of swearing. He grumbles and half sits up to squint at Darren in the faint light around the blinds, sliding over so he can squirm his way all the way into the bed with them. Mia stays peaceful--more used to sleeping through Darren’s clamors, probably--her arm sprawled princess-like atop a pillow.
Darren leans up on one arm, looks up and down at her, then gently kisses the exposed inside of her wrist before snuggling down into the space between them and burrowing against Chris. He curls his hands into Chris’s chest and lays his head down, Chris touching him lightly and mentally willing his manic energy into stillness. Chris takes a deep, slow breath of him, and Darren smells bright, cool, like late night air and that organic peppermint hippie soap he likes.
“I think her wrist is broken.”
“You have to make her go to Urgent Care.”
“I can’t make her do anything.”
“Well you have to encourage her to go, you know what I mean.”
“I know. I will. I’ll take her tomorrow.” Darren takes a deep breath and pushes, off the mattress, up against Chris, his whole body pressing and his thigh slipping between Chris’s knees. He finds Chris’s neck, puts his mouth against it, warm brush of lips and breath and beard. “Thank you.”
Chris squirms at the tickling sensation on his throat, pulls Darren by one hip to roll him close and he can still feel Darren just coming at him in waves. “Of course. God, aren’t you tired?”
“Not even a little bit...can I go down on you? Please?”
“Fuck...yeah. I mean, I was sleeping, but...yeah.”
“Stay awake...” Darren is already halfway down the bed, curling himself between them under the sheet and stroking down Chris’s hip. He lets out a snarling sound and his hand clutches at Chris’s skin. “Fuck, you’re naked under here...” he half mumbles, nestling his mouth under Chris’s mostly soft cock and sucking all the skin he can reach between his lips at once.
Chris shudders as the blood rushes in, feels himself harden and go taut inside, wound up and kind of strange and suddenly very, very desperate. It’s been way too long. He tries not to lurch up off the bed, grabs Darren’s head to hold on, fingers snaked tight into the long curls. “We were...yeah...took a bath. Ummmm made out a little...”
“Mmmmmffffff...” Darren interrupts, his mouth full of Chris and moving his way around, to his balls, to everything. “So hot...you two...mmmmm, fuck, Chris...” Darren trails off, dragging his tongue all the way down Chris’s cock, reaching up to wrap his hand around it as he pushes even further under the covers, probably suffocating but not stopping until he can wedge himself under Chris’s thighs and work his wet tongue into Chris’s ass. Chris gasps out as his tongue sinks in, “missed you,” digs his heels into Darren’s back, somewhere down under the covers.
Darren sighs happily as he settles there, a faint vibration Chris can feel all the way to his bones, and just starts licking. Darren licks like he loves this, and Chris still isn’t quite over that. He groans and lifts his hips, opens his thighs and pushes into Darren’s face. He licks tight little circles, tracing the tip of his tongue around Chris’s rim, again and again and then pushing through the wet circle he’s laid down, all while stroking him with his hand.
Darren swaps then, no warning, his mouth back on Chris’s dick and his fingers pushing inside, a wet path from his mouth marking everywhere he’s been and Chris’s back arches up off the bed, his neck thrown back as all the sounds he wants to make die in his strained throat.
The sheets rustle, leaving Chris half exposed in the slowly lightening room. Darren pulls back and sucks noisily, rubs the head against his mouth and cheek and Chris can feel everything, slippery and slick with spit but then the plush, prickly feeling of Darren’s beard rasping against his sensitive skin. It’s strange feeling and erotic and Darren’s clearly not entirely sober because he’s all over the place and messy and it’s fucking amazing.
Chris reaches for Darren’s free hand and pulls several fingers up to his own mouth, sucking them hard to stop from yelling a lot of filthy shit and waking Mia up. He’s trying so hard to be quiet but Darren is never quiet unless he is under control, and no one is in control. Mia makes a growly sound and starts to turn over, Chris somehow finding the clarity of mind to spit out Darren’s fingers and remind her, “your wrist! Be careful moving.”
“Mmmmm...s’fine...you guys....ow, fuck.” She sits up warily holding her arm, eyes the lump of Darren’s body sprawled and twisting in the sheets, gives Chris a crooked, squinty smirk in the dark and shuffles off the bed to the bathroom. Darren throws the sheets off himself finally and sort of sits up on his knees, head still hung low over Chris’s body and not letting go of his dick for anything. Chris pushes up a bit too and they readjust a lot of body parts, Darren finally letting out a long whine and taking his mouth off Chris for just a second.
“Can I jerk off? Please.” He rests back on his thighs, still stroking Chris thoughtfully, his own cock still miserably untouched. Chris smiles, his mind flashing on the dozens of times he’s seen Darren on his knees like this, the things they’ve done to each other. He clears his throat a little, leans forward to touch Darren’s face, reaches for his neck and some hair to grab.
“You can jerk off...I don’t care. Just rim me some more...s’my fucking birthday.” Chris takes the hand back to his mouth, sucks the fingers inside again to get them nice and wet, guides them to Darren’s cock. He coils his fingers around himself gratefully, starts stroking them both in the same rhythm and working himself back down Chris’s body on his knees so he can get to Chris’s ass. “And don’t come,” Chris adds as Darren nuzzles his cheeks apart.
“Of course not,” he mumbles, kissing and lapping his way in again.
“You know what he said he wanted for his birthday, babe?” Mia appears again in the doorway, bottle of champagne retrieved from the bathroom sink, and Chris reaches out for her as she eases onto the bed next to them. Darren makes a questioning sort of noise from between Chris’s legs, Chris letting out a huff of air and throwing his head to the side in reaction to whatever Darren’s mouth just did.
Mia takes a long pull off the bottle and sets it on the bedside table, stretching out alongside Chris and taking his closest hand carefully in hers. Chris grits his teeth as Darren works a couple of fingers in where his tongue has been, turns to face Mia, to see the sleepy, mischievous smile on her face. She lifts his hand to her mouth, kisses the fingertips.
“He said he wanted some hot dick...what do you think about that? Think you can give it to him?” Chris squirms and Darren lifts his head, looks up the length of Chris’s body and Chris can just barely make out his wrecked hair and mouth, the room getting lighter by unfortunate degrees.
“You called my dick hot? Awwww,” Darren laughs against his skin, sinks his tongue back inside and Chris shivers all over. Mia laughs and sucks one of Chris’s fingertips, carefully adjusts her hurt arm under her head. She meets Chris’s eyes and they’re smiling, dazed at each other, and she mouths to him, nibbling on his fingertip, you want it? Chris groans as Darren twists inside him, tongue and fingers endlessly teasing and opening and he realizes he does, he wants, and so much more.
“Gimme some of that...hey babe,” Darren gestures with an impish little tilt of his head to Mia, to the champagne bottle, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her closer as he pours a generous amount into his mouth. Chris sits up with interest, watching Darren stroke up and down her side, her hips, the curve of her ass, kissing her and murmuring things in her ear Chris knows she only acts like she hates. She rolls her eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder, tucking her one good arm around Darren and letting him nuzzle into her neck. Chris smiles, scoots himself up and closer, holds himself up with one hand on Darren’s ass and one hand on Mia, and sinks his mouth over Darren right where he is.
Chris sucks him and they kiss, and he just keeps going, taking Darren deeply in and out with the movement of his head, letting the wetness from his mouth gather and drip, slipping his tongue around the head of Darren’s dick and feeling for his pre-come to start and Darren finally pulls back from Mia’s mouth. He huffs out a hard puff of air, takes another gulp of the champagne before setting the bottle down and twisting to put his hand on the back of Chris’s head.
“You’re gonna make me come...”
“You better fucking not. I’m just getting you good and wet for me, shut up,” Chris mumbles, pulling off his cock and looking up into Darren’s face, the bedroom now lit with dawn and everything clearer. Traces of black still line Darren’s eyes, smudged and smearing to gray now, but framing Darren with a certain wildness. Chris hums, sucks him down once more until Darren gasps, puts his hands on Chris’s shoulders, holding him back and sliding himself out, looking flustered by wanting everything at once and Chris knows that look so well. Chris feels a little flare in his stomach, a little pang for how this usually would go from here, but he flicks it away. He lets Darren have him, lay him down. He watches Darren watching him, all weird twisty smiles and eyes still flashing with whatever bits of everything he’s had in his body tonight.
Chris smiles, spreads his legs, motions for Darren now now now enough. Darren makes his way, helping Mia down on the bed next to Chris, her wrist propped on the pillow above her head. He leans forward to kiss her again and grab a little bottle from the drawer right by his bed, pausing with his hand hovering, still surveying the contents.
“Do we need a condom?” He asks Chris, simply, no judgment or prying, just a matter of fact thing they have discussed many times.
Chris smirks a little sheepishly, puts up his hands. “Thank you for thinking I might have gotten laid apart from you...but no. Still all yours...completely up to you.”
“Totally good...I wanna feel you...fuck, Chris,” Darren settles between his knees, leans his cheek inside Chris’s knee as he works a couple of fingers back in. “Wanna come inside you.”
“They’re your sheets, honey...” Chris feels himself flush, and snickers, tosses his head to the side to look at Mia because he feels silly, slutty, ridiculous, so good. He reaches for Darren, touching his shoulders and arms, whatever he can reach, insisting...urging. He wants to touch Mia, dance his hands up and down her body and tell her she’s gorgeous and ridiculous too but the angle is wrong. He grins as she of course reads his mind, grazes her uninjured hand over them both, over his chest and neck and then down her own, turning her hips just slightly and angling her body for a better view, for Chris to have better access.
Chris goes for it, pushing her hand aside, turning his palm up to fit against her body. “I’m ambidextrous you know, I can actually do this with either hand...” she protests half-heartedly as he cups and teases, slipping one finger at a time, in, out, across her clit, back in. Mia laughs, a little gasp of a giggle, “krispie treeeeeat, oh my god,” like she can barely believe it.
Sometimes Chris can’t believe it either, but he’s actually pretty satisfied with his skill at this. “Will you just let someone else take care of you? God, woman, it’s my birthday, let me have my fun.”
She relents with a heavy sigh, ok, but only because it’s your birthday, grinding and rubbing shamelessly as she likes into his hand and chewing on her lip. Her cheeks flood with pink as she looks up at him through heavy, fluttering lashes, and he knows she’s pretty satisfied with his skill too. Chris smiles, smug and still feeling in control, but lets a little whimper escape as Darren starts to push in.
Darren sits up, stroking his shaft lightly while the head of his cock just barely holds Chris open, practically buzzing as he tries to focus, get his hands and brain and dick working together. “I’m really...fuck. Sorry. You’re just so hot to me. Just gonna use a tiny bit of lube, k?”
“Darren use whatever you want just...yeah, fuck,” Chris bites and shoves up against Darren, into Mia, as he feels just a hint of cool and wet, feels it warm up instantly when Darren sinks in deeper, the drag and heat of not much lube pulling at what feels like his fucking spine and he loves it. He wraps his legs around Darren and holds on as Darren finally starts to move, starts really fucking him. Mia coos at him with delight and dirty talk as she swivels her hips, uses her good hand to shift his a little so she can basically fuck herself just how she wants.
Chris shakes out a moan, a long breathless whine as the feeling of being used, being their thing right now but more importantly, theirs, washes over him with sweet, sweet relief.
He lets go.
“Awwwww, there you go baby...feel that? Feel Darren’s nice cock? It’s good isn’t it. He’s pretty good, I know, I’ve had it a lot...mmm you’re so fucking hot right now, getting fucked.” Mia speeds up the movement, the rhythm in their joined hands, his fingers or hers he can’t tell, just wetness and the flickering of her clit, back and forth and he doesn’t dare move, she knows exactly what she’s doing. “One of these days, you gonna fuck me, baby? I think Darren would like that...watching you get me off...maybe we would tie him up first...”
Mia gasps, two soft yelps, and a quiver through her body, and Chris knows from her sounds it’s just a little one but still...not bad for a gay guy and one (probably) broken wrist. Darren lets out a sudden shriek shit! from either the things Mia was saying or watching her come or both, and for a moment Chris think he’s going to come already and he is really not above begging him if he has to, please, please keep this going longer. He needs it more than he knew.
Chris whispers, frantically motions for Mia to lay down beside him, still watching Darren on pause, his eyes shut and head thrown back like he’s concentrating so, so hard. Mia flops down on the pillow and Chris squeezes Darren with his legs, pleading with his body, his mind, stay with me. Darren shudders as he opens his eyes, totally unfocused, but he gets control again. He shifts a bit, pushing Chris’s legs further up and back and leaning down heavily to kiss him, his cock throbbing inside Chris as their mouths meet, lazy, unrushed.
“That was close...too fucking close...” Darren whispers into his lips, leaning over to carefully pet Mia, rub one hand down her cheek and ask, ridiculously, hi babe, how are you? before sitting back on his knees and pulling Chris by the hips up onto his thighs and fuck he is strong.
“Babe, can I have the champagne?” Darren asks innocently, Mia giving Chris a kiss and carefully peeling his fingers away from between her thighs, and Chris sees her shudder a couple more times as she rolls off of his hand at last. She sits gingerly, hazily picks up the bottle and drinks some first, tips the bottle down for Chris to take a sip, and finally hands it to Darren.
Chris sees Darren fucking wink before holding the bottle to his mouth and guzzling some down. Asshole.
He starts fucking him again immediately though, so Chris gets distracted, gets lost really, because Darren is an asshole but he is really, really good at fucking. That rhythm, that abandon, that something that just moves through him that none of them know what to call. It’s what Chris saw on the piano, it’s what he sees in everything Darren does, but in this, it’s naked, concentrated, more than just his prostate getting stimulated, which it is, but the push-pull of their bodies, like breathing, like the overwhelming, almost suffocating love he felt earlier at the skating rink is all around him and literally fucking moving inside him and he wonders, distantly, why he doesn’t let Darren do this to him more.
He lets go.
He feels Mia leaning over him, her breasts softly pushed against his ribs, tickling her fingers up and down his chest, around his nipples. He opens his eyes, having no idea how long they’ve been closed, and Mia has the champagne bottle there, tucked between her thighs and his body. She smiles wickedly, starts to tilt it, licking her lips.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Chris starts with a kind of undignified snorting laugh but he really doesn’t care. Darren slows, still inside him, almost to a stop, just for a second, lifts his head to somehow manage to meet Chris’s eyes and he is pouting and Chris feels just stupid with love.
“My sheets, remember? You even said! ‘Gonna have a way bigger mess than Veuve to worry about in a minute here...” Darren lifts Chris by the hips and fucks into him once, perfect and deep and hard enough to make Chris’s vision sparkle around the edges. He feels the fizzy coolness trickle down his chest about a second later, followed quickly by Mia’s tongue, chasing down the rivulets.
“I told you I was going to lick you later,” she grins, burying her face in his soft belly, the streaks of sticky wine.
“Are you gonna sing the song?” He squirms, bringing one hand to tangle in her hair and touching Darren with the other one, just anywhere he can grab to try to stay grounded, overstimulation and aching muscles starting to pull him apart.
“Mmmm...maybe...” Liquid floods over Chris’s belly, pools around his cock where it lays, hard and seething and he barely has time to catch a breath before Mia’s mouth follows the trail right there, presses her full, luscious lips around his head as the champagne left in the bottle spills out. It bubbles over his cock like a fountain and she laps it up, drinks it right from his skin as it slides down the tip, then finally just takes him all the way inside her open, wonderful mouth, starts to suck.
“Oh, shiiiiiit oh shit,” is basically all Chris can say and Darren echoes him exactly, Chris trying so hard to watch this all and take it in but really just unspooling so fast now he has no idea how he ever could. He instinctively grabs a handful of Mia’s long, thick hair, wraps his hand in it and wonders somewhere far off if it’s ok, but her sounds of approval humming up the length of his cock and into his whole fucking core tell him yes, good, ok, so he pulls. He pulls and thrusts into her mouth, both more gently than he would with Darren, looks up from his daze and sees that Darren is watching them, is pleased, and is very close.
Chris wants to come, wants them to come together, doesn’t quite know if he should come in Mia’s mouth or what but he trusts her to not let him fuck up. Darren goes a little faster, clearly feeling every muscular exertion now, sweat rolling down his neck and chest and Chris is too far away to lick it up, which is a damn shame. Darren is beautiful and Mia is swirling, sucking around him in earnest, and their attention pulls at his chest, pulls him into himself and suddenly he’s just there, rolling right toward the edge and he knows he only has seconds.
His feet clamp around Darren’s back and he pulls Mia’s hair, all he can think to do to let her know, hears a sound that is his own voice from somewhere deep inside him, “Darren. Come now.”
“Oh, fuck, Chris...” is the last thing he hears before everything just goes blank, muffled in the rush of blood, the sensations prickling every nerve, deafening, the full, fluid feeling of Darren’s come pulsing inside him and oh god, he loves that, how weird and wonderful is that?
Mia swirls her fingers in the mingling come and expensive wine on his chest, singing to him finally, ever so faintly under her breath, sticky with champagne, it’s ok it’s her birthday. Darren inches up the bed, stretching to lay alongside him, kissing everywhere along the way, his arms, his waist, his nipples. Chris feels two fingers still lightly playing, teasing just barely inside him where he’s still open, Darren dipping into the sticky mess seems both inordinately proud of and fascinated by back there. Darren’s as quiet and gentle as Chris has ever felt him though, and it feels a little weird, but really kind of good, so Chris doesn’t mind, his muscles slowly unwinding while Darren touches, Mia whispers soft words.
He drifts away on the feeling, a seemingly endless wave of nothing, of everything, of pleasure and relief and exhaustion and the absolutely smothering, overwhelming feeling of loving and being loved in their wonderful, fucked up way. And it's not even his birthday yet.