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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Steve fits himself to Neil's back, thighs pressing against the backs of his, fingers pressing in firmly as he starts to move them.

It's got to be different from what the two of them are feeling, he knows that much; in the end, though, it still serves to make him groan, turning his face against Neil's shoulder to stifle the sound.

Danny grips at the sheets, clawing his fingers in as he thrusts down into the bed, fumbling clumsily to get his hand under himself, no rhythm to the way he's trying to bring himself off while Neil pushes into him -- guided by Steve. "Tell me," he demands, ragged and blunt. "What you want, Neil, what do you want, babe?"

"Want my fuckin' hands untied, honestly," I admit, coughing out a laugh that manages to get swallowed up in another moan, Steve's dick pressed up against my tailbone and Danny hot and tight around me.

"What do you think, Danny?" Steve asks, reaching out to one of the ties circling Neil's wrist. "Should we give him a little freedom?"

"He wants his hands untied, he's gotta earn it," is Danny's roughshod reply, his voice hoarse to his own ears as he gives Neil the incentive to do something about it. "C'mon, babe, you want your hands untied? Show me how bad you want it."

"Show you?" I gasp, thrusting harder into him, as much as I can with my hips pinned the way they are. "Can't do much of anythin' like this."

Face buried in the crook of Danny's neck, teeth against the corded muscle there, I say, "You want me to beg? That what you want?"

Neil's hips are stuttering in his grip, fighting the urge to thrust harder than he's being directed, and Steve swallows, grinding against the back of his thigh and not really being able to help it.

He doesn't say anything, can't say much of anything at this point. Just groans and holds on, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

Danny's a little reckless with this, feeling like he'll scream if he doesn't get a bit of release, but, fuck, does he ever want to hear Neil begging for him. It's right there on his list with 'life goals' (well, recently added, he supposes). "I want you to beg," Danny bites out, words carrying an edge to them, a low growl. "I want to hear you beg me for what you want and Steve'll decide if you get it."

"I want you to undo my hands. I want on my back and I want you to ride me. I wanna watch you fuck yourself on my cock. Please, Danny," I plead, my hips snapping harder into him, teeth biting down on the inside of my cheek, just to find myself an anchor. Something else to focus on so I won't lose it.

Steve's inclined to give Neil exactly what he wants at this juncture - namely, because it's exactly the kind of thing he wants to bear witness to, and he leans over, straining only slightly, his chest pressed against Neil's back as he frees each wrist from its tie, one at a time.

"Think you can give him what he wants from here, babe?" he asks, glancing down at Danny over Neil's shoulder, unconsciously licking his lips.

Danny puts on his best disaffected face, utterly uncaring as he looks up at Neil from where he's lying, shrugging haplessly as he stretches out, shoulders popping and the bones in his neck cracking. "Yeah, I guess I could manage," he says in a monotone, smirking at Neil as he lies still, waggling his brows as if to dare him to do something about it.

Now that I'm not tied down, I boost myself up on my hands, giving myself enough leverage to snap my hips forward harder, just once. Just to get him back for that smug fucking look on his face.

Holding onto the base of the condom, I pull out of him and roll over onto my back.

"So do it."

Steve looks at Danny, recognizes that look, knows he's not going to make a move until someone goes and does it for him. He reaches down, gently gripping Danny's shoulder to haul him up, stealing a kiss while he's got him within arm's reach just because he can.

"Yeah, Danny," he mutters, grinning against his mouth. "Do it."

Danny's an idiot in love. It's his only stupid excuse for why he grins the way he does when Steve gets close enough. He kisses him back, but only for a long few seconds before he grabs Steve by the face and forcibly pushes him away, pinning Neil down by the shoulders as he shifts and settles in a straddle atop Neil. "You're both lucky that Rachel took my sanity in the divorce."

My hands settle on his hips, grinning back at him, 'cause it's infectious, even though I know it's not for me.

"You really wanna talk about your ex-wife right now?" I laugh.

"He does that, sometimes," Steve murmurs, settling on his side next to them, propping himself up on one elbow.

"That's usually the moment to make him forget her for a little while."

Danny rolls his eyes, shooting Steve a 'thanks so very much' look that's closer to 'you're a real asshole' but he shakes his head and licks his lips, shifting the positioning enough that he can sink right back onto Neil's dick, splaying one hand out on his torso. It's too far away for a kiss, so he does his best to ground himself with just that palm.

"Jesus Christ, Danny," I gasp, my hips snapping up to meet his, one hand sliding up the length of his torso, my hand curving loosely around the base of his throat, feeling his pulse thrumming under my fingertips.

Steve groans when Neil does, slipping a hand around his own dick, feeling it raging against his palm. His other hand steadies at Danny's shoulder before moving, slow, down the length of his back, muscles rippling beneath the skin. "That's it, babe," he groans, leaning in to nip at Danny's jaw.

Danny takes in a sharp breath, trying to slow everything down and give himself just a second, just a minute, to take control of this. He swallows, hard, and then peers down at Neil, knowing he's going to be so well-exhausted by the time the night's out. "Fast or slow?" he asks. "Which do you want?"

"You askin' me or Steve?" I say, biting down on my bottom lip and clutching tight to his hip, struggling not to plow into him and end this too fucking fast.

"Slow... just to start," I say without waiting for his answer.

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