haolehothead | (no subject)

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As far as cake-baking attempts go, Danny's not the master. Sure, he can do a simple birthday cake, but Steve's? No, he'd needed the big guns for that, which is why he'd showed up to work on one of his days off. The result is worth it -- it's so worth it. He's got a grenade cake, made of chocolate and buttercreme wrapped up. It's only a week into the marriage, but Danny feels like not getting the right gift is pretty much a great way of starting off a marriage in a difficult way.

When he gets back, he makes sure it's tucked away in the ice box. When that's done, he strips down to his shorts and grabs his surfboard, waiting outside for Steve to get back. A surf, a swim, and a cake -- he figures if that's not what Steve wants (outside of some breakfast), then he's just out of luck.

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Danny had already been on edge, but now he's just being given reasons to fall apart. He can feel his control splintering and slipping away from him so quickly that he's not going to last very long. Hell, he'll be lucky if he makes it through a quick recitation of the Yankees' starting line-up. His hips rise off the bed and he utters a repeated 'shit, shit, shit' under his breath as Neil touches him.

"You always this much of a hair-trigger?" I tease, letting out a low groan at the hard press of Steve's dick. No lube and not much prep, but that's fine by me. I press back against him, ducking lower and taking the head of Danny's cock into my mouth.

"Not always," Steve mutters lowly, pulling back after the initial tease to slick a finger in his mouth, easing it in slow and deep to start with.

"He likes watching this. Don't you, Danny?"

"I've been turned on since you goddamn came home from your run," Danny bites out, gnawing on his lower lip when Neil takes him into his mouth. "Fuck you both," he swears, hissing as he tries to shift slightly and ease his hips, wanting to last just a little bit longer.

Steve's got good hands. Wide fingers, and I let out a groan, rocking back against him, encouraging-- nearly begging. I suppose if he wants to take his fucking time, he's the goddamn birthday boy or whatever, but I'd be just as happy if he'd get on with it.

Fuck you both.

Rumbling out a laugh, I slide a finger into my mouth alongside Danny's dick, just enough to get it wet with spit. He's gonna come like a fuckin' teenager at this rate, but I wanna make him shout. Shifting my hand lower, I press at him with one slick finger, sliding it in deep and crooking it against his prostate at the same time I swallow his cock as far down my throat as I can.

Steve's not going to take his time, but he sure as hell isn't going to rush this either, finger working deep until he can feel Neil's ready for it, more than ready, and he glances down the line of his shoulder to watch as he takes Danny into his mouth, long and slow. He times it too, times the press of Neil's finger with the press of his own dick in, easing in all at once.

His head tips back as he releases a groan, hips pressed flush against Neil's. Even through the rubber, he can feel the sensation of tightness and heat. It's dulled slightly, but it's still there, and he doesn't linger long before starting to move, gentle and even thrusts, his eyes finding Danny's and holding in a heated gaze.

Danny's breath hitches when he opens his eyes and his gaze lands right on Steve's. He doesn't really know how the hell he got to this point -- so goddamn besotted it's embarrassing -- but he knows that he loves Steve more than anything in the world and that a single look can make him this weak. "Fuck," he chokes out, softer this time as he slides one hand to Neil's shoulder, brushing against his neck and twining with the hairs at the nape before he's pushing further in order to slide his fingers over Steve's lips.

It's one slow, easy slide, and it's so fucking good, I nearly choke, forgetting what the fuck I'm doing, one finger up Danny's and my lips wrapped around his dick.

I let out a helpless whimper of a moan, the sound of it muffled, and I draw back with a gasp, panting out, "Jesus," and after half a second of not knowing what the fuck to do, I wrap my hand around Danny's cock, jerking him in time with the thrust of Steve's hips.

They're all wrapped up in each other, but I was never stupid enough to think this had anything to do with me.

Steve parts his lips to let Danny's finger in, sucking slowly, but he hasn't forgotten who he's buried in, who he's fucking. He lets Danny's finger slip from his mouth to groan, sliding a hand down the curve of Neil's back to feel the way muscles coil when he arches underneath him, taller and leaner than he's had before.

"So good," he groans, sliding an arm around Neil's middle and pulling him up until they're pressed from knees to shoulders, his hips moving a little faster as he turns his head to lick along a tendon in his neck, teeth scraping against skin.

Danny clenches his fingers, grasping the bedsheets in an attempt to not writhe and turn into a begging mess. He's already feeling like a hero for lasting this long and he actually whimpers -- honest to god lets out a whimper -- at the sight of Steve's mouth on Neil's neck. "Shit, I'm -- I can't -- Neil, you..." he tries to get out a warning in between breathless panting.

This is... really fucked up.

I'm laughing, breathless, leaning back against Steve's chest and tipping my head to the side, neck exposed like a fucking offering. I force my eyes open, watching Danny struggle not to squirm, and I want to lean back down and swallow him, have him come down my throat instead of my fist, but Steve's got an arm around my middle, holding me close, and that's good too.

"Come on," I murmur, my thumb sweeping over the head of Danny's cock, "Nobody's stoppin' you."

Steve knows Danny's close, can hear it in his voice, and he also knows he doesn't want to be selfish, relinquishing his firm hold around Neil's middle so he can lean forward to finish him off - hand, mouth, any way he wants.

"Let go," he whispers, pulling back on the force of his thrusts into more of a slow grinding as his hands map over Neil's back again, kneading the curve of his spine.

Well, he's definitely out of the game first, at this rate. He feels like he practically could do damage, but he comes, hard as he ever has and then he's slumping into the sheets of the bed like it can absorb him up. He hates that he did it on command, like he actually takes orders from Steve, but he's too goddamn blissful right now to care.

I only have enough time to catch the last spurts, the rest hitting my chin, making a fucking mess of me, but it's worth it, just to see Danny speechless, for once.

Then, it's like I remember how fucking hard I am, and it's really no surprise it's this good. You take one look at the two of them and know they're fucking like rabbits. Practice makes perfect and all that shit.

My forehead resting against Danny's stomach for a moment or two, I finally boost myself back up with one hand on the mattress, wiping the back of my other wrist across my mouth and rocking back against Steve's cock with a shuddering gasp.

Steve grins loosely at the sight of Danny already completely wrecked, left lying there and still panting against the bed. If anything, that gives him further incentive to drag this out a little longer, just to give Danny something to see - and then Neil grinds back down onto him, removing all remaining coherent thought, and it doesn't take him long at all to work back up to harder thrusting, pounding in with a loud slap of skin against skin.

His fingers are digging into Neil's hips, his other hand moving to Neil's shoulder to anchor himself down, his breath coming in a series of ragged pants as he barely manages more than low grunts, gritting his teeth.

See, and this is why Danny wishes he'd held out just a little longer. Now, they're still going at it and he's lying there, fumbling for his sweats to pull them back up because he has a healthy respect for decency -- and he'll do the damn laundry later. He could move -- he could do something like push his tongue into Steve's ass, but that's just too much work and he'd rather just watch now, lazy and content.

"Are you... Are you seriously gettin' fuckin' dressed?" I pant out, incredulous even as I'm getting pounded into, but it really doesn't last long-- the giving a shit about Danny's fucking modesty or whatever. The angle's just right and my mouth falls open, words falling pretty much unchecked from my lips.

"Oh... Oh, fuck... Fuck, fuck, ffffffffffff-- Steve, Jesus," I whimper, my eyes catching Danny's and -- Goddamn, you're one lucky fucking bastard.

For all the times he's enjoyed it slow and unhurried, he needs it like this now, hard and fast - maybe a little too fast, too fast for how he'd originally planned on dragging it out, but wrenching those kinds of noises from Neil's throat is a good compensation for being impatient.

He bends over him, molding chest to back again as he snakes a hand over to work around Neil's dick, stroking him out over Danny, in time with his hips.

Danny's eyes are half-lidded now as he watches, a breath of content on his lips as he gives Neil a knowing smile, I know, god, I know unspoken because Danny's good at being a parent, he's good at being a boyfriend, a husband, a partner, but he's never going to be as good-looking as Steve, never going to be as good at sex as he is, never going to be what everyone in the bar is looking at.

My eyes screw shut tight and I can barely keep myself boosted up, my forehead resting against Danny's collarbone now, panting against his skin.

"God, I can't--" I gasp, and then it slams into me like a fucking freight train and I come with a hoarse shout. Danny was really fuckin' dumb, putting on those sweats, 'cause they're sure as hell a mess now.

That's it, the catalyst he needs, and between the two of them, Steve's pretty much done for. His hips stutter and stop against Neil's backside as he comes, wave after wave shooting through until he finally stiffens and shudders, easing out slow.

"God," he gasps, barely managing to roll off to one side before he collapses entirely against the bed.

Danny smirks lazily, shaking his head because Neil definitely ruined Steve's sweats and he writhes slightly, kicking them off. He nudges at Steve's stomach with his toes as he gets up to find another set of boxers, catching Neil with an arm around his waist when he makes it back to the bed. "Happy birthday to you, too," he mumbles. "Early."

If Danny hadn't scrambled away to get cleaned up, I'd have collapsed right on his chest. As it is, I end up between them. It's too familiar to be entirely comfortable, but I don't bother to move.

His back against my chest, I can feel him talk as much as hear it, that rumble against my back and his breath against my neck. I groan, crack open an eye and look at Steve with a crooked grin.

Steve's eyes are still half-closed, but he manages something of a breathless grin before scrubbing a hand over his face, resting it against his lower abdomen.

"Yeah, or something like that," he murmurs, head lolling over slowly to look at the both of them.

"Yeah, he does this too," Danny says, dropping to one knee on the bed behind Neil, sliding his fingers slowly over his back before digging into his neck a little tighter. "Gets the lazy SEAL commando thing going on and doesn't have much stamina. I usually have to goad round two out of him with profanity or slurs against his abilities."

"Speaking of, babe, unimpressed," Danny says, snapping his fingers at Steve while his other hand works out the kinks in Neil's neck.