Three Times Indulgence

You who were born with the sun above your shoulders
You turn me on, you turn me on
You have to know
You who were born there where beauty is existence
You turn me on, you turn me on
Your body heals my soul
You who were born where you shiver and you shudder
You turn me on, the girl is gone so come on
Let's go

"Greek Song," Rufus Wainwright

 

They each had their own reasons for being there. Selfishness, validation, acceptance, closeness – they were reasons not easily understood, by outsiders nor by themselves. They rarely troubled their minds with thoughts of why. To them it was as simple as blood – life and family. What more did they need?

For Shigure it was both greed and despair. To have his needs met and satisfied, whatever the cost. He gave more thought to his actions than most would believe, but even so in the end it always came down to what felt good to him. What felt good at this moment was to have his hands bound by a thick cord of gold chenille, the velveteen fabric easy on his wrists and a tiny added pleasure to his sensitive skin, which hungered and ached for more sensation. His wrists were tied tight to the bedpost, raised just above his head, and for his own comfort pillows had been propped behind him to support his back. He stretched his hands and curled his fingers, whimpering delicately in a way that most of his lovers never got to hear. His eyes were always open as he bit down hard on the corner of his swollen lower lip, trying to angle his hips down to meet the thrust of his partner.

Ayame was sitting at the foot of the bed, thin ivory legs folded neatly beneath him as he leaned his weight on his left hand and gnawed distractedly on the tip of his right thumb. Silver hair fell across his shoulders and lay cool on his back, the ends tickling the rumpled gold bedspread.

"Gure-san looks good like that, na, Tori-san?" he remarked softly, smiling ever so innocently around his chewed digit. He didn’t think he could get enough of seeing Shigure bound and splayed in his bed, his naked body flushed pale crimson with agitated blood, his skin beautiful contrast to the gold chenille. It was power to him, Shigure bound and in his bed, and Ayame watching, letting it be his own decision whether he participated physically or not.

Hatori gave no indication that he’d even heard what Ayame had said. He put his full effort and concentration on Shigure, whose hips he clutched hard in both hands as he pumped himself forward into the satin wrapped heat between his legs. Shigure had his feet planted firmly on either side of him, and bent his knees to lift himself in counterpoint to Hatori’s movements, wrists straining against their bonds and eyes wide with something like awe. Hatori slid his hands down to Shigure’s thighs, tempting the other with the slightest indication that his tender healing hands would heal the raging throb that smacked and bobbed stiffly against his abdomen. But Hatori did not touch him there. He only lifted his legs and spread his thighs wider, Shigure whining in pain and distress just like an injured puppy. Ayame’s smile widened. They were incredible together – two dark-haired young men bound in opposite roles of temptation and gratification. They radiated heat and sex even when they were sleeping; no matter how they may have appeared on the outside, inside they were molten lust, and to see them engaged in sexual play of any nature was enough to get off anyone who had the pleasure of viewing.

Ayame raised up onto his knees and touched himself, stroking slowly as he held his tongue between his teeth and watched.

Shigure was dying. Dying to be touched – to be fondled, molested, manhandled. He didn’t care if he were sucked or punched, he just needed more. He was greedy. This wasn’t enough. Even Ha-san with his body like fired iron, shining wet beneath the glare of the overhead light and his hair hanging in sweaty strands over his eye, was not enough.

"More!" Shigure pleaded, fisting his hands in his restraints. Hatori had made sure there was no way he could break them. Shigure turned his head to Aya, whose amber eyes were fixed on Hatori’s hips and the sharp angle of Shigure’s legs. He was stroking himself with his fingertips, his arousal palest pink like a pretty rose. Shigure whimpered once again. "Aya . . . please . . .?"

Ayame looked up and then smiled lovingly. They had often wondered how it seemed no one else ever noticed Ayame’s pure, loving smile. They all thought Aya was nothing but bombast and vanity, but the truth was he had the biggest heart of the three of them. It was only a matter of catching him at the proper moment to see it.

Ayame crawled forward and leaned his face over Shigure’s, his hair falling over one shoulder and catching the light behind his head in a silver halo. He gazed into Shigure’s dark eyes for one long moment, his own citrine irises thick with want he’d been waiting for. With one thin hand on his cheek, he bent and kissed Shigure on the mouth, accepting the other’s tongue with more grace and poise than any normal person could show. Shigure was ravenous for more sensation, and Ayame’s tongue was like ambrosia in his mouth – slick and nectar-sweet, warm and sumptuous. Shigure was forced to break the kiss with a moan, falling back into the pillows and impatiently gasping for Aya to do something, anything, he didn’t give a damn what.

Ayame smirked. He bent over Shigure’s chest and wrapped his lips around one stiff nipple, nibbling and suckling. Hatori slowed down considerably, withdrawing in long rapturous strokes and then sheathing himself in delectable upthrusts. Ayame straddled Shigure’s waist, letting his length rub against Shigure’s neglected erection, and he switched nipples, slowly humping against him as he sucked off his chest.

Shigure howled, frustrated and on the verge of breaking the bedpost right off the headboard. Ayame snickered. "You’re so impatient," he chastised, nibbling Shigure’s sore, bitten lip before lifting himself off. He took the discarded bottle of lubricant from the bedside table and handed it to Hatori. Hatori had stilled all movement and rested now snug and safe inside Shigure’s body, where his every nerve trembled from the heat and tight slickness of it all. Ayame offered his ass up to Hatori, promptly telling him to lube him up. Hatori did without hesitation, taking none too little time and being none too careful about it, stretching and probing and making Aya’s face twist in pain and pleasure for Shigure’s enjoyment. Or torture, depending on how one looks at it.

Done with the preparation, Aya turned his back to Shigure and then straddled him, reaching for his hard-on and guiding him into his body. Shigure’s breath was stolen away by the sensation he had craved so much, and he released a long wavering cry of satisfaction, trying to reach forward and grab Aya’s hips, but becoming even more frustrated when he was met with resistance from his bonds. Hatori pulled out then, a thin trail of precum leaving his tip and stretching between them for a moment. He stood up, and before either he or Shigure knew what was happening Aya had produced a thick black dildo from out of nowhere.

"I got a new toy." He winked up at Hatori, whose normally conservative mind was having a hard time twisting itself around this odd new addition to what had become normal sex play for them. The expression on his face was a mixture of shock, confusion, and fear. And there was curiosity there too. Aya grinned and said slyly, "Let’s see how Gure-san likes it."

Shigure couldn’t hear their murmured conversation. He was lost in a swirl of intense need and could think of nothing else. So he didn’t notice Aya putting lube on the dildo, and had barely placed any thought on the sex toy at all. When he suddenly felt himself being nudged open, he tried spreading his legs, thinking it was Hatori, until he was suddenly spread farther than was necessary and realized that what was being pushed inside him was much harder than Hatori. He grimaced, not about to protest.

Hatori watched Aya slide the shiny black phallus into Shigure’s ass with quiet wonder. He checked Shigure’s face, and he couldn’t deny that the scene just made him that much more aroused. As long as they were both enjoying themselves, and enjoyed being with him, that was all that mattered. To him, it was about being with his friends, protecting them and looking out for them, making them feel or forget anything painful for just these few moments in time. He could never find forgiveness for the things he had done in his past – the horrible, traumatic things – but he felt that with them he could always find some sort of redemption. Even if this seemed strange to others, he cared about Shigure and Ayame above all else. They were the only outlet for his frustrations he had. The only company he felt safe in.

Aya moved the dildo in and out at an easy pace, angling it so it hit Shigure just right. When he had established a set rhythm, he leaned toward Hatori and took his cock in one hand, sinking his mouth over it. Hatori gasped, then groaned, wrapping his hand around a fistful of Aya’s hair as the rest slipped over his heated skin and tickled his thighs straight past his knees. Having gotten the rhythm in synch between hand and mouth, the platinum haired juunishi finally began moving his hips over Shigure’s erection, buried fully deep inside him. It was an intricate and complicated orchestration of movements that required full concentration and coordination, but Aya was near perfect at it. Taking Hatori into his mouth as far as he could without choking and losing the rhythm, he sucked hard on the damp flesh, letting his tongue loll and play over every ridge and vein. He kept his wrist cocked at the right angle as he fucked Shigure with the dildo, and he rode Shigure’s cock as hard as he sucked Hatori’s, bouncing unmercifully as he tightened his muscles on each upward stroke.

Shigure’s greatest impulse was to writhe and thrust his hips as hard as he could, but he didn’t know if he wanted to thrust up into Aya’s ass or down onto the stabbing, stretching penetration. And besides this he knew any movement he made would disrupt Aya’s flow, which from the looks of Hatori’s face must’ve been as good for him as it was for Shigure. So he lay very still, letting it all be done to him, feeling helpless and out of control and somewhat loving it. In any other situation he would much rather be the one with the control, but with these two it was okay. He was getting his and they were getting their’s. It was all good.

And then it was barreling down on him, faster than he could even open his mouth to scream – he came. He arched back so hard he pushed Aya right off Hatori’s erection, another thin line of opal pale precum breaking between his lips and the tip. The pillows supporting him slid off the bed, and he was completely unaware of how loud he was. All he knew was that it felt fucking spectacular and that was all he gave a fuck about.

Ayame dismounted a bit stiffly, removing the dildo as he did so. Shigure sighed in contentment, his chest heaving. Hatori, still hard and insufferably so, reached up to undo the chenille cord around Shigure’s wrists. Ayame was smiling at him, about to say something, but the black haired juunishi grabbed him and silenced him with another deep, abrasive kiss.

"It’s your turn now, pretty one," he said thickly, voice husky-raw from fresh orgasm. Ayame acted startled, but was soon mewling with his own pleasure as Shigure laid flat on his belly and began sucking him off. Hatori watched the two of them for a moment, some dark type of warmth in his eyes, before he moved around behind Aya and kissed his throat, biting him so hard Aya cried out from the pain, his eyes rolling back behind heavy lids.

And now came the moment of awkward truth, as it always was, and both the dark haired young men always pretended not to notice. Neither knew if it was for their own good or something else that kept them mute about it. Guiding himself between Aya’s ass cheeks, Hatori pressed himself flush to the pale body in front of him, and with one arm wrapped around his narrow waist and the other hand on Ayame’s hand in Shigure’s hair, he fucked him slow and deep. Aya had dropped the dildo to the bedspread and had wrapped an arm around Hatori’s neck, and with every puff of breath came a soft, pleasured, "Hatori . . . Ha . . . Tori . . ."

These were the only moments that Aya ever called Hatori by his full name. And unless Ayame and Shigure were alone, he never said Shigure’s name if Hatori was there.

It didn’t matter much to Shigure. He could scent the truth before they’d even revealed it – he knew this in retrospect. What it meant to Hatori he had no idea though. And he wasn’t about to bring it up to their stolid lover, since at the moment he thought they had a good thing going, and he was greedy and didn’t want to complicate it anymore. So he contentedly sucked Aya off, deep throating him and working his tongue against the tender under-skin, as Hatori’s deep thrusts pushed his sex deeper and deeper into Shigure’s throat. A wicked little thought occurred to the dog just then as he felt the damp dildo bump against his hand. He picked it up, and without skipping a beat, managed to reach around behind the two lovers to Hatori’s opening. Hatori was silent as he worked the toy inside him, either having expected it or just not caring at this point. Shigure always found it amazing how Hatori changed during sex. Stern, conservative Ha-san had a wild streak in him. It was sexy and irresistible, and Shigure didn’t care for its reasons or troubles it had gotten him into before.

Shigure’s hand wasn’t as skilled as Aya’s in keeping the phallus in the right place, and it was made even harder by the position they were in. Hatori reached down to adjust his wrist, angling it upward and grunting when it nudged his prostate. He continued to fuck Aya, stroking his smooth belly with one hand, and kept Shigure’s hand in place with the other. Aya was tightening his muscles around him the way he always did, knowing just when and how. But after a while he stopped, so lost in the bliss between Hatori and Shigure that it didn’t matter. The dildo was sending bright sparks of ecstasy crackling to Hatori’s groin, and he pumped harder, and harder still. Shigure was about to gag from the force, but instead of making some unseemly sound he tried to make it into a sexy purr instead, while forcing the dildo harder into Hatori’s ass. Ayame suddenly choked, calling out Hatori’s name, and in response Hatori grabbed his hips and pumped until he shuddered with the force of all three of them put together. Shigure’s mouth was engulfed in bitter come, and he could almost swear it seemed like Hatori’s orgasm flowed out of him, into Aya, and back out again. There was something sweet and satiating about that thought, and he swallowed it all with satisfaction.

The dildo was dropped and rolled off the bed. The three lovers tangled together amongst the untidy sheets, Aya in between pressed into Hatori’s side, his eyes closed and hair sticking to all three of them in tendrils of white, web-like silk. Hatori had his arm around Aya and was stroking his fingers through the snake’s hair. Shigure spooned behind Aya with one leg thrown over Aya’s thigh, one arm thrown around his waist.

And so it was they lay there in silence, each with his own peace of mind.

Shigure, warm with afterglow, his appetite sated for the time being.

Ayame, high on adoration and affection, curled in the arms of the one he loved most.

Hatori, the only one with eyes open, staring into space as he tried to forget the sound of his name in a child’s voice.

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Don't sew beelines to anybody's hide
Save your poison for a lover who is on your side
~Greek Song, Rufus Wainwright