Alex Skarsgard, Sam Worthington, and Ryan Kwanten: Three for dinner
[backdated to February, 2012; follows a few days after Alex calls Sam]
Grabbing himself another cold beer, Alex glances at his watch. He actually had time after work today to ring Luke, catching his boy on his Saturday afternoon off. Catching him and making him come until Alex's whole body ached with listening in. But then Luke had dinner plans so there was no time to linger; Alex told him about Sam and Ryan coming by his house tonight and Luke said to give them his best, but then he had to go. Which of course had Alex pouting for a good fucking hour. So knowing that he's got friends to hang with tonight - friends with whom he can be completely open about his relationship - is the best possible medicine for him. Short of a surprise visitor from New Zealand, of course.
Sam parks and reaches into the backseat for the bottle of wine they brought with them. He meets Ryan on the front step and tugs him close, kissing him hard on the mouth. "That'll have to last us most of the evening," he murmurs, eyes sparkling. "Unless we want to risk driving Alex up the wall. Well, more than he is already." He grins.
"He's really tense, huh?" Ryan asks, slipping an arm around Sam's waist and hugging him for a moment. "I can understand that. I'd have gone mad by this point, if I'd been away from you as many weeks as Luke's been gone." He leans in again and nuzzles Sam's neck. Probably not the smartest move since they're out in the open, but Alex's neighbourhood is fairly exclusive and seems pretty private, plus his front door is sheltered by some overhanging trees. And if Ryan's going to be with his lover yet not touching him all evening, then he needs more Sam right now.
Of course, that's the tableau that Alex opens the door on - Ryan plastering himself against Sam like it's been years since they've seen each other - and he can't quite keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Christ, you two," he mutters, but it's far more envy than annoyance talking. "Get inside before someone sees you. Ryan, don't you have any self-control?"
"Not really," Ryan murmurs -- not when it comes to his sir, certainly. He smiles sheepishly and follows Sam into the wide foyer.
Sam's still chuckling when he hands the bottle of wine over to Alex. "Hopefully it'll go with whatever you're ordering in," he says with a grin. God knows he was the same before he met Ryan.
"Anything goes with what I ordered, thanks," Alex says, checking the label. Then he catches Ryan in a one-armed hug before doing the same to Sam. "It's been too long. Come on, I've got the table set out back on the patio." He heads into the kitchen to dig up a corkscrew.
Ryan grins and waits only until Alex's back is turned before he puts his arms around Sam's neck and kisses him thoroughly. Like a little scolding is going to turn him off, please.
Caught by surprise, Sam groans softly into Ryan's mouth, swatting him lightly on the ass even as he makes no move to extract himself from his boy's embrace.
Laughing softly, Ryan slips his fingers through Sam's hair. "Is that supposed to discourage me?"
Alex pokes his head into the foyer to see what's keeping his guests, and he groans. "Stop it," he orders, his voice snapping with impatience. God, if Luke were here right now... "You'd think the two of you didn't even live together. You're supposed to be tired of each other by now." Giving up with a shake of his head, he grabs the wine and a few glasses and heads out to the patio alone.
"Sorry," Ryan whispers, grinning against Sam's lips. "I'm not tired of you yet."
"I'll never be tired of you," Sam says, grinning back and he means it. Can't picture ever not wanting Ryan this much. "But we should be nice to Alex." He's not exactly sure why though. He definitely doesn't think Alex would keep his hands off Luke if their roles were reversed.
"Love you," Ryan whispers with a smile. "I'll be your toy for as long as you want." He links his fingers with Sam's and leads his lover through the kitchen and out to the patio.
When they arrive - finally - Alex wordlessly hands over two glasses of wine. "Beer's in the fridge, too. And there's harder stuff, of course, but I need to eat something first." As if in direct response to his words, the doorbell rings. "There's my cue. Be right back," he says, heading into the house to collect their food.
Eyes sparkling with mischief, Sam sets his wine on the table. He grabs Ryan by the hips and pulls him back in for another kiss, grinding against him.
Laughing into the kiss, Ryan reaches out to snag a chair and manages to fall more or less into it, dragging Sam down into his lap. "I like this," he confesses. "I mean, I know it's kind of cruel to Alex, but I love that we can do this in front of him."
"Yeah. Me too," Sam agrees, nibbling at Ryan's mouth. Fuck. "We might have to excuse ourselves at some point if we keep going this way."
"Excuse ourselves to where? The guest bathroom? He just might suspect something," Ryan says, and damn near giggles. "Of course, I guess that was my point -- that he can suspect anything he wants." He massages his fingers lightly over the nape of Sam's neck.
This time when Alex finds them that way, he doesn't even bother making a comment; why waste the effort? He simply starts naming fragrant styrofoam containers as he lays them onto the table, which is already set for three. "That's, um. Bacon-wrapped grilled shrimp with some kind of cheese. This is supposed to be a spicy pesto, but I've never had it, so I don't know if it's really spicy or not. Salad, and this one's a sort of steak croquette which I heard is really good." He pulls up a chair and digs in, because god it all smells so good.
Still grinning, Sam shifts to his own chair and starts piling food on a plate. "You didn't say anything about being in his lap," he teases, glancing at Alex.
Alex stares at him in confusion for a second, then recalls their phone conversation, when he'd mockingly asked if Ryan could possibly stay out of Sam's lap for any extended length of time. "Fuck, you're right," he mutters. "Really, your self-restraint is admirable. So how are things going with you guys, anyway?" He glances at Ryan and knocks back a large swallow of wine. Shit, that pesto actually is spicy. "Sam said you went away for a bunch of songwriting? Are you getting anything recorded?"
"Yeah, I hope," Ryan says, blushing faintly, as he tends to do anytime he's put on the spot about his music. "It was for Aidan Scott - you know him? - I've worked with him before. And he and his producer really liked some of the stuff I wrote on this trip, so if everything goes well, then yeah."
"And you were okay, being away from that one?" Alex asks with a nod towards Sam.
The blush deepens now, spots of crimson glaring high on Ryan's cheeks. "Yeah. I mean, as okay as I could be, and now I'm home, so I don't care anymore. Short memory." He grins at his lover sidelong, bumping Sam's knee gently under the table.
"Besides which, being apart gives you a great excuse for really re-claiming your boy," Sam says, not that he needs an excuse for anything. Ever. He grins at Ryan.
Tipping his chair back onto two legs, Alex studies Sam with a raised eyebrow. Clearly it's something he needs to explore with Luke, if he can ever summon the patience. Maybe he can plan something special for when he visits to celebrate Luke's birthday. "Do I want to know?" Probably.
Glancing quickly at Sam in question, Ryan lifts his shirt, displaying the array of healing cuts on his chest: legacy of Sam's most recent 'reclaiming'.
Alex's gaze drops to the lingering marks on Ryan's flesh, and his mouth goes dry. "Fuck, you're assholes," he mutters, and slams back the last of his wine.
Sam laughs. "Starting to regret the dinner invitation?" he asks, feeling sort of sorry for Alex, but not really. He has no doubt, again, that he'll be in for the same treatment if it's ever just him with Alex and Luke.
"No." Alex shakes his head and pours himself some more Chardonnay. "Because at least I can talk to you about Luke. I mean, simply being able to acknowledge that I'm with him..." his eyes narrow. "Of course, I could also tell you about how incredible his ass tastes, and how he knelt naked by my chair and let me handfeed him in the Citadel dining room, even though he was blushing like there's no tomorrow. Or how he's dying for me to fist him, and I'll be the first one who's ever done it..." He shrugs slightly, then sticks his tongue out at Sam. So fucking mature.
"Okay, so I'm slightly jealous about the first fist part," Sam admits, because fuck, he can just picture it. Can easily remember how responsive Luke was. Almost as responsive as Ryan. Almost. "But don't make me start telling you about Ryan's P.A. and his tattoo again. How many times have you looked at the picture I sent you?"
Alex mock-glares at him. "Shut up." It just fucking figures that Sam would know that he's secretly obsessing, and has been ever since their conversation.
"Wait. ...What?" Ryan asks, his fork stilling in mid-air. He looks at Sam and whispers, "Which picture did you send him?" Fuck knows why he's whispering.
"The one on my phone, with you on all fours, the one I took, not Dan's," Sam says, frowning a little. "I told you I told him about the tattoo and your new piercing."
"Oh... right," Ryan replies, blinking. "I guess I just didn't realize, when you said... Sorry." He shakes his head slightly. Then he glances uncertainly at Alex. "So, what did you think?"
Is Ryan fucking kidding? Alex meets his gaze without flinching. "I couldn't really see the piercing. But I thought your tattoo was fucking gorgeous. Did it take long?"
Ryan shrugs. "A few hours. But Sam was there, so it was okay. And our guy is really nice." After three different sessions with Dan, it's no wonder Ryan thinks of him as theirs.
"We'll have to get him to do your brand too when we're ready," Sam says, taking a sip of his wine, which is actually really good since Ryan picked it out.
"Jesus," Alex murmurs. Sam had mentioned the possibility to him, but damn. "When do you think that will be?"
"Oh, I don't know," Ryan answers with a shake of his head. "I'd do it tomorrow, except I'm really kind of scared about the idea." Which is saying a whole fucking lot, for him. "But that one will be with a ceremony. So you'll know."
"We'll try and make sure both you and Luke can make it," Sam says, knowing Alex would be much happier attending with his boy.
"Thanks." Alex's brow furrows briefly; from the sound of things, that date is a while in the future yet, and he really doesn't expect that he and Luke will still be together by then. Unfortunately. But not everyone can have what Sam has with Ryan. "I'm grabbing a beer," he announces, getting to his feet. "You want some?"
"Yeah, thanks," Ryan answers, looking up at him with a nod.
Sam watches him go and then turns to Ryan, keeping his voice soft when he says, "I know most people aren't as lucky as us, but seriously, I think I'd go fucking mad if I had to be separated from you like that."
The words are sober, but they cause a sunshine-bright smile to spread across Ryan's face. "You're not the only one," he murmurs, leaning in close to gently suck on Sam's bottom lip. God, Ryan used to worry that Sam would never be able to love him the way he loves Sam; it's the most phenomenal relief to know that he was wrong about that.
"You know what might make him feel all better?" Ryan says, one thousand percent teasing. "If you finally let him fuck you." It's certainly therapeutic when Ryan gets to do it.
Sam gives Ryan a look. "Brat," he says, shaking his head. "I'm sure it'll happen one day but this is not it."
"What's gonna happen?" Alex asks, coming back out with three cold beers even though Sam didn't ask for one. There's a platter of strawberry shortcake in his other hand, all fluffy white frosting and scarlet berries.
"Sam's going to let you fuck him," Ryan explains, sitting back in his chair and reaching for a bottle of beer.
Alex's eyebrows shoot sky-high at that. "But not tonight?"
"You're the one who said you didn't want to fuck around on Luke yet," Sam points out, cracking open his beer.
"Awww, Sam. I could make an exception for you," Alex answers with an earnest nod.
Ryan snorts a laugh, and tries to smother it with the back of his hand. "You and Luke, you're not...?" Alex simply raises an eyebrow, and Ryan realizes he needs to clarify a bit. "You're monogamous?"
"Yeah, so far," Alex replies, beginning to slice the cake into generous pieces. "I mean, he knows I won't stay that way, I told him that outright." He shrugs. "But I haven't yet."
Sam nods, watching Ryan. He'd definitely intended to continue on the way he had been when he'd met his boy, but these days, he doesn't really feel the need for anyone but Ryan.
"And he's okay with that?" Ryan asks, digging his fork into the piece of cake Alex sets in front of him. Then he rolls his eyes at himself. Is Luke okay with something that hasn't even happened yet? Fuckin' brilliant, Kwanten. "I mean, when you told him that you're going to play around. He said he'd be all right?"
"Yeah. Well, he's not sure," Alex says, trying to explain. "But he thinks he'll be okay, so long as I'm honest about it. Which is the way I'd prefer to go about things anyway."
"But you're not gonna let him fool around or let him play with anyone, even when you're there, yeah?" Sam clarifies.
It's a long careful moment before Alex can respond. "No," he says finally, with a shake of his head. "Definitely not without me, there's no fucking question. But even with me there... I don't know." He stabs a fat strawberry with his fork. "It pisses me off just to think about it. I don't want anyone else touching him."
Ryan raises an eyebrow, a bit surprised by the controlled violence latent in Alex's answer. "And is he okay with that, too?"
"If he isn't, then he's in the wrong fucking relationship," Alex retorts, and can't help but notice the way Ryan hunches into himself slightly at the snap in his tone. "Sorry. I... sorry," he mutters.
Sam reaches for Ryan's hand and gives it a squeeze. If Alex weren't such a good friend... "I don't think there's anything wrong with how possessive you are towards him, and from what you've told me, he doesn't seem to think it's a problem either, so what gives?"
But Alex can't really answer that question, can't let himself come right out and confess that, with each day that passes, he just figures they're closer to the day that Luke gets smart and breaks up with him. Because that would be fucking pathetic. "I just miss him," he says quietly, and at least that's true as well. "I'm sorry. It's just been a really long time since I've seen him. And New Zealand is so goddamn fucking far away." He rolls his eyes and changes the subject. "How's the engaged life?"
"It's good," Ryan answers with a shy smile. Sam is still holding his hand, and Ryan rubs his cheek gently against his lover's knuckles. "I mean, it's not really any different from the living-together life. Except that I know..." Trailing off, he turns an adoring smile on Sam, and kisses his fingers. "Well, I know." He sucks Sam's index finger into his mouth, running his tongue along the length.
That gets a soft groan and Sam doesn't even try to hold back. Fuck. His eyes locked on Ryan's mouth.
Well, fuck. Alex stares too, his own mouth going dry.
In a moment, though, Ryan realizes what he's doing and where, and he pulls back with a hot flush. "Sorry," he mutters to Alex, looking down at his plate. But he doesn't let go of Sam's hand.
"Don't stop on my account," Alex says, and he actually means it. He sits back in his chair, crossing his legs under the table. "This is the closest I've gotten to any real action in a while."
"I thought you wanted me to keep him out of my lap?" Sam says, feeling a strange need to doublecheck before they go any further.
"Yeah, well. That was before," Alex murmurs in reply, his gaze still fixed on Ryan's mouth. "Now I'm hard already." It didn't take long.
Ryan's cheeks blush even redder at the talk, and he doesn't dare look up at either of them. He didn't know that Sam and Alex had already chewed over the prospect of Ryan climbing into Sam's lap during dinner... Shit, maybe Alex and Natalie should swap stories. For sympathy.
"Get naked, boy," Sam says, shifting his chair a little more towards Ryan's. "And take your time..."
The order comes as a surprise - although really, it shouldn't - and Ryan is a beat slow in getting to his feet. "Yes, Sir," he mumbles, shedding his hoodie and then pulling off his t-shirt. The sun has long set and it's chilly outside, but he knows that with Sam running the show, very soon he won't be feeling the cold at all.
Alex demurely folds his hands in his lap as he watches the slow reveal of Ryan's body, and it's automatic that his brain rushes with memories of touching Ryan, feeling that tight body move beneath him. For an instant his mind shies away - is that actually disloyalty he's worrying about? - but he sets his jaw and focuses, dropping one hand down to rest on the bulge of his cock inside his jeans.
"Good boy," Sam says, nodding his approval and crooking a finger at Ryan. "Come sit with me."
Ryan straddles his sir's thighs and gasps a little at the heat radiating off Sam's body. He doesn't have orders or permission to touch Sam yet, and god it's tough but he holds himself back, clasping his hands behind himself, his cock already a throbbing spike.
Sam runs his hands up Ryan's stomach to his chest, fingers playing over his nipples, sliding into those rings and tugging lightly, a mere tease of what's to come.
Alex watches Ryan react, hears the yelp and sees how the boy's back arches in response, and he gets to his feet. Because now he can only see half the fucking show. Trying to be as silent as possible, he moves to a nearby lounge chair, a little farther away but more to the side. Fuck.
Whimpering with need, Ryan moves into Sam's touch. And he starts grinding against his sir, knowing he's seconds away from dry-humping Sam. He's slipping down with the speed of an avalanche, already nearly unaware of Alex watching them. That means nothing anymore.
The rings get a few more tugs, each harder than the last, before Sam drops his right hand to Ryan's cock, hooking a finger through his P.A. and giving it the same treatment.
The sight of the new piercing makes Alex's mouth water. And the new tattoo? It's absolutely stunning. He presses the heel of his palm hard against the ridge of his prick, fighting the powerful rush of lust that threatens to take him over.
Gasping for breath, Ryan grinds harder. He could come like this, yes, and he's so fucking close already, sparks of hot pain flashing through his cock every time Sam pulls on his P.A. so brutally. The way Sam yanks on his nipple ring nearly feels like a gentle caress in comparison. "Sir," he whispers, and bucks once against his lover, whimpering loudly. "Sir, please!"
Sam shakes his head. "No." He keeps twisting and pulling on the P.A. but reaches between them to open his jeans, freeing his cock with his other hand. "I want you to ride me, boy."
The sound that spills from Ryan's lips now is much closer to a whine than a whimper. It takes serious fucking effort for him to ease back and get to his feet. He pushes three fingers into his hole, then adds a fourth, swiftly, roughly, working them in and out. With a soft cry he spreads the cheeks of his ass and hovers over Sam for a second before carefully lining up with his lover's cock and pushing down, taking him in to just past the thick head.
Alex chews hard on his bottom lip, because it's the only way he can keep a loud groan from slipping out. Christ, they're gorgeous together. It would be even better if Sam were naked as well, but this is still really damn good: he watches as Sam's cock disappears into Ryan's body, Ryan desperate and breathless as he takes him in, that wicked black tattoo flashing in a perverted game of peek-a-boo.
"Fuck," Sam breathes, groaning roughly as Ryan's body opens for him. Glancing over at Alex, he reaches around and spreads Ryan's cheeks, holding him open for his cock and thrusting hard on the next drop.
Ryan shouts, the sound loud in the evening stillness. He grabs the back of the chair, drops his head back and begins to ride his lover, the muscles of his thighs working as he takes Sam deeper. Until finally Sam's cock is buried all the way inside him. Ryan rises until he's nearly empty, then slams down and takes his sir deep, again and again.
"Jesus Christ," Alex breathes, unable to look away. He unzips his jeans and pulls out his aching prick, closing his hand around it and beginning to work himself at the same pace as Ryan's hips.
"That's it, boy. Fuck your hole on my cock," Sam growls softly, letting his fingers skim the edges of Ryan's hole as he keeps his cheeks spread wide, his tattoo on full display for Alex.
It's fucking beautiful, and Alex struggles against the wave of envy poised to wash through him. This is not the time to be thinking about marking Luke, not the time... He groans deep in his throat, and drops his other hand down to tug roughly at his balls.
Whimpering, Ryan speeds up, his body swallowing Sam's cock again and again. A bead of precome pulses from him, smearing on Sam's favourite Iron Maiden t-shirt as he moves on his lover. "Sir," he whispers, uncertain whether to work up the hope that he's going to be permitted an orgasm, or not. He shivers at the tease of Sam's fingers, right there where everything is so damn sensitive. "Sir, please. Your boy is getting so close."
"Is that right?" Sam says, pushing the very tips of his fingers into Ryan alongside his cock. "And do you think you deserve to come, boy?"
"I don't know, Sir," Ryan answers on a sob of breath. Pain flares through him, mixing inextricably with the lust that's so damn close to boiling over. He leans in and risks a swift lick of Sam's throat, hoping he won't be chided for it. "Please, Sir. Please let me come for you!"
"Do it, boy," Sam orders, his balls drawing up tight, so fucking full... "Now."
That 'now' shocks through Ryan's body like an electric current. He shouts - forgetting that they're outside, forgetting that this isn't even their house - and his grip on the chair goes white-knuckled. His climax races through him and he has to work to keep moving, to keep riding Sam while every last spark of pleasure flashes inside him.
Alex's hand jerks, stuttering on his cock for an instant. His mouth goes dry as he stares, then spills over his fingers.
Sam empties himself into Ryan in hot heavy spurts, fingers pushed deeper as he urges Ryan to keep going through every last aftershock, only dimly aware that Alex has come too, his eyes locked on them. Christ.
Shuddering with pain now, Ryan gasps for breath. "Please," he whispers, dropping his forehead to rest on Sam's shoulder. He's damn near dizzy, and now he's fucking freezing. His muscles clench tight and he shivers again before making himself relax. "Please, Sir."
Fuck. Alex grabs a paper napkin off the table and scrubs at his wet hand, getting to his feet. It's one thing watching Sam fuck Ryan until he screams, but it's totally something else to intrude on an afterglow meant for just the two of them. He slips into the house, heading down the hall to the master bath to wash up.
"Yeah." Sam nods, easing his fingers free. "Go ahead and put your clothes back on, then come sit with me again."
"Thank you, Sir," Ryan whispers, but it takes him a few seconds before he manages to push himself to a stand. Ignoring the wetness dripping down his crack onto his thighs - hell, it's the warmest part of his body right now - he pulls his jeans on, then shrugs back into his hoodie. Shoes will just have to wait. He arranges himself in Sam's lap once more and rubs his cheek blissfully against his sir's shoulder.
"Good boy," Sam murmurs, holding Ryan close, his arms tight around him. "I love you."
Inside the house, Alex studies his reflection in the bathroom mirror, then scrubs a hand over his face. Fuck. He doesn't know whether or not Luke will be upset about this; he hopes not. Well, any more than Alex himself is already upset right now. Groaning under his breath - when did he turn into such a lovesick pussy? - he heads for the freezer. "Hey," he says, pulling open the slider to the patio and brandishing a chilled bottle of vodka. "Time to start the serious drinking. You want to come inside for that, or stay out there?"
Still half-melted around his sir, Ryan grins. "If there's any chance we'll end up singing, then we should probably go inside."
"And get you warmed up too," Sam says, kissing Ryan before easing him from his lap.
"Yes, Sir," Ryan murmurs through his smile. He links his fingers with Sam and follows his lover into the house.