Eric fucking Assad with Luke watching and Luke's pov
Anon I hope you will forgive me for making this top Assad despite you specifying the opposite. It is sub top Assad if that helps
🖤🖤🖤
Luke's pretty sure at this point that Assad and Eric have completely forgotten that they said he could stay on their couch tonight.
"Fuck," Eric grunts over the sound of skin slapping skin. "Yeah, that's it baby, come on, I can take it."
The slapping sounds grow impossibly faster, Assad's panting even louder.
To be honest, in all the time he's been imagining the two of them together, Luke never once considered that Assad might occasionally take a turn on top. Maybe that's regressive of him. He doesn't know. He's also never considered the possibility of Assad topping him.
He's considering it now.
"Good boy," Eric's saying. He sounds winded, and desperately aroused. "That's my good boy, don't stop, don't stop…"
Cautiously, doing his best to make as little noise as possible, Luke sits up and peeks over the top of the couch.
They couldn't have given him a better view if they'd tried. The hotel room is split into a living room and a slightly raised bedroom with no door inbetween, so it's as if Eric and Assad are fucking onstage with Luke as the lone spectator in the stalls.
Eric is on his back, hips resting on the bottom edge of the bed. Assad stands between his bent knees, curls flopping as he thrusts frantically. He's going as hard and fast as he possibly can, Luke thinks, which is pretty fucking hard and fast, but Eric is still egging him on.
"Is that all you got?" he taunts, as sweat drips from Assad's brow. "Virile young thing like you, you'd think you'd be able to fuck me harder than this."
Luke only realizes he's biting his lip when he tastes blood, and when he shifts to touch the split he feels his erection brush against the couch cushions too.
"Is this how you're gonna fuck Luke?" Eric asks, and Luke freezes with his finger on his lip. "Or do you think he likes it gentle? Soft touches and staring into each other's eyes?"
"How can you still talk?" Assad gasps out, just as Luke is wondering the same thing.
Eric laughs.
"You know me, baby. You'll have to try harder than that to shut me up."
Assad slows, panting, seemingly trying to catch his breath. He rolls his hips and Luke imagines what those slow, deep movements would feel like inside his own body. He has to muffle his gasp in the couch cushions.
"Pretty sure Luke wants to fuck me," Assad says.
"But you'll do whatever he wants, won't you? Cause you're a good boy who does as he's told. And cause he's a pretty boy with pretty green eyes, and you just can't say no to that, now can you?"
"No," Assad pants, grinning. "No, no I cannot."
