JAQ - James and Alec seal their come inside Q. This is 2500 ridiculously porny words.
Happy Birthday to the lovely, witty, wonderful ayrtonwilbury! <3 <3 <3
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The curve of Q’s arse is smooth and firm, the contrast sharp between the pale skin and the wool of his trousers pulled down just enough. He waits with gritted teeth, face down against the desk, fingers clutching at the edge as he was told.
James moves behind him, rich fabric swishing softly, fingers warm and almost-touching but not quite there. Hot breath is blown over the exposed skin, Q tightening around the plug nestled in between the cheeks of his arse.
“Could you…. get on with it, please?” Q says in the best impression of unaffected that he can muster. The arching of his back tells otherwise and he pushes his head forward further into the wood of the desk, shamefaced.
A fingernail runs along Q’s spine, beneath his jumper, hand splaying out to push the small of his back down. Q feels his cock being ground into the desk, letting out a small grunt at the friction.
“Patience, love,” James murmurs, voice close and deep. The fingers skate downward, turning into the nail, scraping. Q shudders and bites his lip to keep the moan from escaping. They have to be quiet in here. The people just outside… they’ve done this a dozen times before but it doesn’t stop the quiet blush or the little thrill that quickens his heartbeat and lodges thickly in his gut.
The nails reach down to the top of Q’s arse, pausing, waiting for Q to shift. When he doesn’t they soothe against him firmly.
“You’re so good for me,” he praises, sliding the fingers downward in reward and letting them skim around the gentle stretch of the rim of muscles. Q can’t help but mewl out at the touch, attempting to spread his legs but still held restricted by his trousers. James grasps at the base of the plug, wrapping around its slim exterior like a handle and giving a tug. Q’s body strains backward, back bowing and arms growing rigid. The room is hot, the air thick between the places their bodies don’t touch.
“Yes, I’m good for you, James,” Q says, and it’s not really a question or request but Q inches backwards, clearly looking for more. James lets his fingers flex, pushing against the tender flesh just to hear Q suck in a breath.
“You look so gorgeous for me, spread out. Filled up. Just waiting for my cock. Do you want it now or should we wait for Alec?”
Q knows it’s a trick question and he bites his lip to stall. Either way he answers will get him punishment from either James or Alec, and the thought is a bit mind-numbing. He lets his fingers stretch again over the desk’s edge, remaining silent.
“Do you want my cock, Q?” James asks again, pulling back on the plug until the widest section slides out and Q makes an undignified whine into his forearm.
“Yes,” he answers, voice beginning to edge into something a little more unhinged. James begins to thrust gently with the plug, twisting it with each inward movement and Q’s body grows stiff beneath the onslaught.
A quiet clicking of the door is heard and the fact that James doesn’t stop his movements indicates to Q that Alec has arrived.
“Bloody late, you know,” James says in a cheery greeting and Q can practically hear Alec’s smug smirk.
“I see you didn’t waste any time waiting for me,” Alec intones lightly. There is rustling of fabric and Q imagines that Alec is removing his suit jacket. A clank of metal on wood means that he’s removed his sidearm and more shifting of cloth means a rolling up of shirtsleeves. Q twists his head around, peering up at Alec’s darkly amused face and confirming his deductions on his lover’s state of undress. Alec looks gorgeously pleased, forearms thick and exposed, fingers trailing along his own throat. He removes his navy silk tie and walks forward to slide it against Q’s flushed cheek and parted lips before pushing it in between Q’s teeth.
“How’s our boy been, James?” Alec asks as he slides the edges of the tie back behind Q’s ears and forms a snug knot. Q feels a bit ignominious at the fact that Alec hasn’t even addressed him and is instead petting him along the back of the head and running his fingers over the place where the tie meets his ears. The fingers linger before sliding around to grasp lightly around Q’s long throat.
“Wet. Waiting,” James says in reply and the words and the shifting plug and Alec’s fingers tightening incrementally make Q’s body tense. His skin prickles with sweat trapped under the hot layers of his jumper, the clothes growing itchy and heavy and cumbersome. Q shudders as James pulls firmly on the plug and it slides out, warm and heavy. Q fights to stay silent, tongue pushing against the makeshift gag seated in his mouth.
“You first or me?” James asks politely, hands withdrawing completely and leaving Q feeling exposed and bereft. Q hitches his breath, waiting for the response.
“I’ll go first. Get him riled up. Make him moan sweetly behind that little gag. I know you like to watch, James.”
There is an audible intake of breath behind him and Q feels the air stir over his bare arse as they switch positions. James hovers nearby and Q watches as well as he can from behind the sleeve of his jumper. James is still fully clothed and a firm line fills out the rise of his trousers, looking obscene. He settles down on the desk near Q’s hips and palms himself over the fabric.
James’ form distracts Q enough that he hardly flinches when Alec slides his cock wetly against Q and nudges inward without pretense. Q buries his head in his arms and elongates his body, pushing down as Alec continues to just sink inward until he’s buried deep. The plug has made him loose, pliant, and they both groan at the ease of the slide. Alec gives Q only a moment before making tiny grinding thrusts and grasping on tightly against the slim hips. It doesn’t take long for Alec to begin to pick up the pace and pound into Q’s arse, their bodies shaking the desk along the white linoleum floor.
Q alternates between scrunching his eyes closed and peering at James’ face, the latter making him grow red-hot with flushed awareness of what they were doing. A stinging slap on his arse makes Q forget and cry out against the tie, feeling it wet and soaked against his tongue. Q watches the way James’ features slowly grow tighter, darker, as he watches. Alec doesn’t take any time, any finesse, just holds Q down with a good pounding that lasts and lasts before barking out a quick fuck as he empties himself inside Q’s wiggling body. He fucks hard through the waves and Q can’t help but wail at the rough and unrelenting force.
“Quiet, love,” James warns, his trousers now open and tip of his cock pulled out. Alec slows his movements and rests heavily against Q’s legs, fingertips raking over the fevered skin beneath Q’s jumper before sliding back upward with soothing strokes. Q shudders against him, untouched, nerve-endings singing. Alec pulls outward quickly, too quickly, and Q feels warm wetness seep down to run over his bollocks and the backs of his thighs. He wiggles his hips slightly, hoping the come doesn’t make it down to his trousers, because how will he explain that?
As Alec’s fingers leave and the two switch positions once more, Q experimentally stretches his body. His muscles ache from being held in the same position for too long, too near release. His shoulders are bunched tightly, spine long, arsehole aching and wet, skin tingling. He pushes his head down against the desk again to avoid looking at either of them. He feels his nose press into the wood and focuses on the point of contact, allows his breath to grow calm, his body to draw back from the brink. If he comes now, there will be consequences. Sometimes Q likes that, likes to push them, edge them into it, but not today. Today he wants to be good.
Q flinches bodily when James’ thumb slides along the flesh of his arse, gathering up Alec’s come and pushing inside. The other thumb joins and he wrenches outward, opening Q up completely. Q burrows into the desk, face flaming, letting out a hoarse groan as a wriggling tongue laps against him roughly. James pulls away and Q feels a twitch in his cock at the two sets of eyes on him, looking at the pretty picture he presents. Spread out, well-fucked, gagged, wrenched open, wet with come. Q shifts against the desk once more, now trying to ease any feeling away from his cock as he feels himself nearing too close to the edge of orgasm.
“Let go of the desk,” James says, and Q does so with relief. James pulls up on Q’s shoulders and he is raised to wobbly feet, the come sliding downward further with gravity. Q’s jumper slides downward also, brushing along the top of his arse and James crowds him up against the nearest wall. He rubs along the shoulders gently for a moment and Q lolls his head as he is suddenly achingly aware of the tension and knots between his shoulderblades. James kisses along the long ear, taking it into his teeth before licking around the outer-shell. Q braces his hands against the wall, legs only shoulder-width apart and trousers pooling around his ankles.
“You’re so wet for me. So sweet,” James says with wet breath directly into Q’s ear, and Q doesn’t know if he means his cock or his arsehole, because both are painfully true. James slides inward in one smooth stroke and they both grunt loudly. Q’s been held open for so long, overstimulated, sweaty and damp and trembling; he’s not sure he can take it.
“James,” he begins to say, feeling a bit of panic welling up.
“What is it, love?” James says affectionately against Q’s neck in between nips with sharp teeth. His hands move over to Q’s wrists and begin to pull them backward, crossing them down over the small of his back. Q is now pressed completely into the wall, the pre-come smearing along the grey paint. Q briefly hopes he remembers to clean that off later. Another well-placed thrust from James and the thought flies from his mind.
“I’m…. I need…” The words are muddled against the tie, but he can articulate clearly enough.
Q closes his eyes and feels his cheek scrape across the wall. He opens and closes his fingers, the fabric of James’ dress shirt dragging over them.
“I’m trying so hard,” Q finally manages, the tie a limp mess clamped tightly in his teeth.
“I know you are.” James doesn’t change a thing, keeps thrusting, keeps tugging on the wrists until the fine bones are bending slightly under his grip.
“Turn him around,” Alec says from nearby and Q’s eyes fly open. He hadn’t even realized Alec had come closer. James does, pulls Q off the wall, and then Alec is sinking to his knees and wrapping his mouth around Q’s leaking cock. Q shudders completely from head to curling toe, feeling the pressure building up in a white-hot blaze in the pit of his belly.
“God, please, please let me,” Q says behind the gag. James tugs back on the wrists, pulling Q’s body into a taut line.
“Come for me, Q. Come for us.”
And Q does, the cry dragged from his lips pained and whining, hips juddering as Alec holds still and lets him fuck forward. He is caught between the two, the fingers bruising, the edges of his vision growing white as he trembles and spurts and bounces along James’ cock. Q’s fingers clench, looking for something to grasp onto, and when it finally ends he collapses forward, strength sapped. James lets Q’s wrists go and Q grasps onto Alec’s shoulders as James pounds into him harshly and sinks his teeth down, the flesh of Q’s shoulder bending beneath the bite. He is quiet through his orgasm, holding Q bruisingly tight, teeth working into the flesh in what will surely be a spectacular bruise. They stay like that for a moment, the three of them breathing heavily, Q feeling leaden and hot and glazed all at once.
Alec pulls away and so does James, and Q is left on his two unsteady legs, hanging in the air, drenched and sore.
“Back over the desk, love,” James says, and Q groans at the spark that those words shoot through him.
He bends over, hands by his face this time, unable to stretch out further. His body is absolutely aching, throbbing, fevered, and he presses his cheek against the cool of the desk and closes his eyes. He knows what’s coming next.
The plug is back against him, sliding in easily. Q feels it, grunting as the widest section slips in and stretches his aching flesh, sealing in the mix of come and lube. James pulls Q back up and pulls up his pants and trousers, tucking Q’s wet cock inside and zipping up the flies slowly, tooth by tooth. He undoes the wet tie and kisses Q on the nose. Q tosses his head, thinking what he must look like. His hair has got to be ridiculously unruly, skin ruddy, clothes wrinkled and messy. And the scent…. the smell of sex and come and sweat is heavy in the air. James pushes down on Q and he falls bonelessly to his desk chair, the plug jolting against him and making him clench his eyes shut.
“You’re so gorgeous,” James says, stroking Q’s hair and putting a damp lock behind his ear.
Alec bends and kisses Q on the other cheek, leaning down to whisper into his ear.
“You’ll think of us later? When you’re bent over your desk, and someone brushes by? Think of our come inside of your plugged up little arse?”
“Think of how we’ll pull it out later, and fuck you again, and plug you up again? Hmmm?” James’ voice is charged and whispering on Q’s other cheek.
Q is beyond words at this point, just lets them lick and kiss and whisper. They leave and it take Q a full ten minutes to open his eyes and get out of the chair. He dreads opening the door to his office, because everyone will know. Everyone already knows. He doesn’t even know why he keeps pretending. As Q stands he feels the ache of every single part of his body, and the shift of the heavy plug. He runs a hand through his hair to get it to behave and slides on his glasses, feeling his demeanor shift, becoming the Quartermaster once more. The armour helps when he walks out onto the floor and all eyes look at him questioningly.
