God, what a beautiful moan. The sound of Keith's voice hitching when he was close to bliss, spread thin between gasps, was a privilege to hear. And James knew it.
He also knew the sound was not his to claim. But that knowledge didn't stop it from drowning out every other thought on nights he fought to fall asleep in a cold bed. It was so strangely familiar to him now. James had every muscle memorized, every soft strand of hair that cascaded onto dark sheets, even the way Keith's eyelids seemed to flutter before he would call out Shiro's name and fall over the edge of his ecstasy. Sometimes, James couldn't believe he was so lucky, so cursed, to know the things he did. It was easier when it had been just a fantasy, a pretty dream in his head. Knowing how good the truth could be battered his heart, because he knew it all belonged to another man.
It was James' fourth time back to their room after his initial invitation, but tonight, he felt as nervous as he'd been when he'd stepped through that large gray door for the very first time.
One touch, Griffin. Make it count. Good work out there.
Shiro's words echoed in his mind, and his thoughts raced back to the wink Keith had tossed him as the red tinged shirt of his uniform fell to the floor. Chills raced down his spine. He would wait for the right moment. All he wanted was a kiss. To feel lips and breath as Keith keened with pleasure into him. Anything more would be too much. James didn't think he'd be able to tear himself from their room again if he allowed himself more than a press of lips. Order had to be maintained.
"Shiro," came a shaky voice. Then Keith's beautiful moan pierced the room.
No. It was too soon. He was missing his chance. James stayed his hand against his skin and tried to rise. How the hell had he been so distracted?
Another moan came in response. James' eyes flicked up from Keith's face just in time to watch Shiro crouch over that gorgeously toned back in his own release. He froze—heart falling straight to his stomach—and settled back into the plush seat.
Too slow, Cadet. His chance was gone.
James' heart beat painfully in his chest. He fought to slow his breathing, but his body was tense with unfulfilled need. Everything began to go soft. James groaned. All he could do now was clean up. Looking around for a tissue, he caught a glance of the two of them pressed together in a lazy kiss. Something dark deep inside him told James he must actually like pain. It would always end the same, but that wouldn't stop him from enjoying the ride to inevitable heartbreak. He sighed, resting his head between his hands, crestfallen.
Footsteps padded around the room. James didn't bother to pay attention, instead he let out an exasperated huff and began to adjust his disheveled clothes. Always one step behind Keith.
A strong tug on his bangs forced him to look up at the ceiling. Eyes like a thunderstorm met his own burning gaze.
"Ow," James yelped, staring daggers into the man. Usually, he wasn't so irritable at the end of a night like this, but he didn't even have the energy to fake pleasantries now.
"Waited too long, sir," Shiro chided, leaning down close enough for James to see the beads of sweat that dripped down his temple. "So, what do we do now that you've missed your chance to touch?" He drew the word out slowly, an agonizing reminder of everything he'd almost had.
"We talked about it." There was no mistaking the low gravel and stardust timbre of Keith's voice. James instinctively twitched and tried to face him, but Shiro's floating hand held him firmly in place.
"Shame you waited too long to finish, but we don't want to leave you hanging." A crooked smirk spread across Shiro's face. James struggled briefly under his iron grip, earning himself another sharp tug and a craned neck. He quieted reluctantly. There was no will as powerful as that of the man above him—and James knew it. "Remind me what the normal rule is," Shiro continued, the usual steel in his voice tinged with mirth.
"You can look, but you can't touch," James said through ground teeth.
Shiro's free hand grasped James' wrists and pinned them behind his chair. "So, as a consolation, this time you get to be touched, but you can't look."
His heart skipped a beat. He felt hands work his underwear back down to his ankles. Keith. James' mind raced as nimble fingers drummed against the inside of his thigh. This couldn't be real. It would break the only rule they'd set. The one thing he'd promised himself he wouldn't do.
"Do you accept?" Keith asked gently. The question laid him bare. If James wanted to leave, this was his out.
"Yes." The words left his lips before his brain could catch up. Even if it only ended in pain, it would be a wonderful way to burn.
Keith ran his hand from where it tapped playfully on James' leg up to his chest, popping pesky buttons until his shirt hung loosely around his body. His hips bucked reflexively, and he strained to break free of Shiro's hold. A soft chuckle filled the air, then the grip on his wrists tightened uncomfortably. Warm breath tickled his ear.
"I thought you liked rules," Keith purred, flicking one of his nipples. His touch drew out a moan so dirty James couldn't believe it came from his own voice. But he dared not move his head in response. He understood enough to know that Shiro would only crane his neck further back if he did—or worse, he'd stop the game entirely. James' chest heaved as bare skin brushed his own.
"Any suggestions, Shiro?" Keith's voice was dripping with anticipation.
"Have fun, baby. He's been good."
A chill ran up James' spine. What had he just agreed to?
Keith dragged a finger down to his belly button. James shuddered, biting back a whine, and squeezed his eyes shut. Better to remove the temptation to look than to stare into those unyielding eyes, watching his every move as Keith tore him to pieces.
Nails grazing against his stomach pulled James' attention back to Keith. He pressed a kiss into his chest. It sent shivers racing across his skin. One hand ghosted over his cock while the other held his hip in place, teasing circles with his thumb.
"Do you want me, James?" Keith breathed. His body rolled in response, little moans escaping his lips. He was a whimpering puddle of need beneath Keith, begging to be touched.
"Yes."
"Good," he crooned, running his tongue from James' jaw down to his collarbone. "Looks like you were having a bit of a problem before. Shall I fix it?" He palmed at James' arousal, already growing hard under his touch. A high pitched whine answered for him, and that was all he needed to hear.
Keith traced his thumb up the vein in his cock, circling his head slowly. James slammed back into the chair. It was too much and not enough all at once, and it felt so good. His hips bucked up, yearning for more friction, but Keith held him firmly in place. A loud, hungry groan escaped his grasp when he finally took him in his hand and began to pump. James bit down on his cheek until it nearly bled to keep from screaming. Keith knew exactly what to do to with every inch of him. His lips made their way to James' chest, nipping at the sensitive skin and rolling his hardened tip between his teeth. Moans poured out of him in waves as James took it all in, racing towards his climax.
There was a low chuckle, then the pace against his cock grew faster, harder. James felt his own wetness begin to spill onto Keith's hand and coat his length. His neck lolled to the side, any inhibitions he'd had earlier gone. Shiro's prosthetic was the only thing keeping his head up, but he didn't care what the man thought of him right now. All James could think about was the way Keith was pressing his body against him, sliding his arousal up and down his leg. His toes curled so hard he thought they might cramp when Keith suddenly pulled away.
"No," he groaned, "go back. Please, go back."
"Patience, James, we're just getting started," Keith crooned before tugging on his earlobe with his teeth.
"I want—" he sputtered, keening with every red hot touch.
"Good, James," came a low rumble, "Tell Keith how good he is with his hands, how good it makes you feel."
The words tumbled freely from his lips. "Oh, Keith, the way you—" His voice faltered as he shifted from pumping to drawing circles around the tip of his cock. "That you touch me—is the most—that I've ever—" James was trembling, so close to the edge. "You know just how—I'm so—" He gave up trying to speak. There wasn't enough blood left in his head to form a word with more than one syllable.
Warm skin pressed into his lap; James nearly choked on his own breath. Keith had him pinned beneath strong hips. It was the exactly what he'd longed for in every heated daydream hidden beneath a cold shower. Except this was real and it was Keith. His hands skittered across James' body, tweaking any sensitive spot he could find. He rocked their lengths together so hard that James could see stars.
There was a sharp pinch at his nipples and James bucked up so violently that Shiro had to pull his wrists back to keep him seated. Keith let his full weight press down onto him, pumping his cock with long, agonizing strokes. Sloppy kisses littered James' chest, and a burning desire in his gut threatened to consume him. He felt teeth pull his lower lip down, shredding his last ounce of self control.
The lips pulled away as James began to ride out his release, spilling furiously into Keith's lap. His moans filled the space between them all as he slowly came down from his high.
Keith stood. Cold danced across James' skin at the sudden loss of contact and he whined, begging for more. He felt rough hands, Keith's hands, plant themselves firmly on his shoulders. Opening his eyes just a crack, he caught a glimpse of onyx hair above him and lips pressed together in a fervid kiss.
"I might've gotten things a little dirty," Keith sighed breathlessly, running his tongue along the bottom edge of his teeth.
Shiro's words were like cool steel, and he dug his fingers further into James' hair. "Then clean it up."
"Yes, sir."
Strong hands spread James' knees as Keith kissed a line from his neck down to his navel.
"Yes, sir," James breathed.
Keith chuckled deep in his chest. "Impatient aren't you, Griffin. Didn't the Garrison teach you anything about control?"
He didn't have a chance to respond before Keith's lips encapsulated him in warm, wet splendor.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head bobbing with every twist of Keith's tongue. "Fuck."
He was getting so very hard again. Keith painstakingly lapped up every trace of his release. Electricity coursed through his veins.
"Fuck."
So this is what it felt like to play with fire and burn to ash.
"Fuck," he wailed over and over, the word searing through his body like a wildfire.
"You look so beautiful with your mouth full of cock, baby," Shiro crooned.
It was a helpless mixture of pleasure and pain to feel but not see. James knew just how beautiful Keith could look with his lips around a cock, and his body longed to know what he'd look like with his mouth filled with his. Keith gave James a hard squeeze in response, nearly sending him flying over the edge.
"Fuck," he screamed between gasps.
Keith released him with a long swipe of his tongue and stood.
"Sounds like he's ordering us to fuck, doesn't it, Shiro?" he purred.
"I think so."
Dazed from Keith's touch, all James could do was mumble 'fuck' again and again as he slowly blinked his eyes into focus. Keith and Shiro were locked together above him in a tangle of lips and teeth. Shiro bared down on him, pressing Keith's chest into James' face. James didn't care. He wanted to soak up every second of this bliss. Jumping at the opportunity, he nipped at any part of Keith's skin he could for as long as he could.
They broke their embrace with a sigh and fumbled towards the bed. James tried to turn his head but the floating arm still held him in place. Only when he heard the telltale rustle of skin against sheets did Shiro let him go. He groaned at the soreness in his neck, lifting it slowly before settling his chin in his palm.
Had that really just happened? James looked up. Keith was leaning over Shiro, pressing his back into the bed with a powerful kiss. He watched the large prosthetic hand squeeze his ass. A neon sign that said 'mine' would've been more subtle.
"Have your fun, too?" Keith asked, dark eyes meet his own in a tantalizing stare, daring him to stay.
James nodded between heavy breaths. What was he even still doing here? He was a pawn in a dangerous game, and all he could win was heartbreak. Still, something deep inside him kept his feet rooted in place.
"You can go if that was a bit too much for you," Keith mused, a hungry smile on his lips, "but I'm ready to really fuck, sir."
James was sure of it now. He didn't care how much the rational part of his brain screamed at him to leave; he'd do anything for another moment to bask in the burning star that was Keith.
"Bite him."
Bite me.
"With pleasure."