handle it : pedro/aleix; pedro/aleix/maverick [e] - 2.3k words (pt. 2) [pt. 1 here]
Maverick gets Pedro onto the bed, hands on his hips, waist, till he’s flat on his back with the other man pressed close between his thighs.
“How’re we doing this?” Maverick asks over him, speaking to Aleix like Pedro isn’t even there. It twists an iron rod of heat in his stomach — that Maverick’s getting approval and direction from Aleix. Makes Pedro feel like he’s owned, collared.
Mav’s hands come up to split Pedro’s thighs even further apart, thumbs drawing deep circles into the muscle. Pedro exhales a long breath, chest catching with anticipation. Aleix hums somewhere above him, brings his arms up in order to peel Pedro’s shirt off, and then his head’s being lifted and laid down gently on the hot curve of Aleix’s thigh. Aleix runs his knuckles across one of Pedro’s red cheeks, staring down at him in thought.
“You can fuck him,” he says finally. Pedro’s eyes widen, heat bursting like fireworks up his throat. “You’d like that, right, Pedro?” Pedro nods jerkily, breath stammering when Mav’s hands creep up to the waistband of his pants and start to tug.
“Ah,” Aleix gives Maverick a look that stills his movement. “He’ll ask nicely.”
A black hole of want opens in his stomach.
“I don’t know if I could share you, though. Maybe, but you’d have to ask so nicely.”
Fuck. A whine pulls from his throat just at the thought. Mav makes a noise, a little exhale of surprise.
“He’s reactive,” Aleix notes, tipping his face up in a toothy grin — proud. God, being spoken over and about is fucking doing something to him. Magma starts to drip down his spine. Aleix looks back to him, leans in close and cups the side of his head with a big hand. “Come on, Pedrito. Manners.”
“Please,” he manages, voice raw. He shifts against Aleix so that he can look Maverick in the eyes, gauging the want drawn across his expression. “Please fuck me.” Mav laughs, attention dancing up to Aleix.
“You’ve got him trained,” he muses, hands leaping into action and shedding Pedro’s shorts and underwear in one smooth motion. Pedro whimpers at the sudden exposure, trying to close his thighs as embarrassment flushes through his veins. Mav grips him again, rough and bruising as he holds him in place. Aleix’s fingers curl around his throat, gentle over his pulse point. The contrast fucks with his head, eyes rolling back to stare up at Aleix. Aleix smiles down at him and squeezes just so, enough for a smatter of stars to burst in his vision.
A lid snicks open and he jolts, mouth falling open at the sound. Aleix laughs, and Pedro would huff, but then one of Maverick’s fingers is pressing into him with no warning. A sound dies in his throat, relegated to a punched out breath of air.
“Tight, fuck,” Mav breathes, crooking his finger. He yelps. Aleix’s free hand finds his, tangling their fingers together. Mav gets a second digit in, scissoring them apart and drawing a broken whine from deep in Pedro’s chest.
“Like he’s made for this, Mav, seriously. Wait till you watch him take it. Such a slut.” Aleix mutters the last part with his eyes on Pedro’s face, creased in the corners. There’s no heat to the word, nothing cruel — in fact his voice is so honey-sweet it trickles right down Pedro’s throat, settling sticky in his lungs and stealing his air.
“Aleix,” he gets out, lashes fluttering. Mav has set a rhythm, driving his fingers deeper with each motion. Aleix leans down till his mouth is beside Pedro’s ear, eyes on Mav’s hand.
“When he fucks you, Pedro,” he starts, voice low. Pedro swallows thickly. “You’re going to suck my cock.” Fuck. Pedro spasms, dick jumping against his abs. Yeah. Fucking yes. He pants into the crease of Aleix’s thigh, wishing desperately that there wasn’t any fabric separating his mouth from the skin there. He wants to taste him. Wants to lick over the sharp cut of his hips; wants Aleix to fuck his throat till he comes.
“Yeah, please, please,” he whines. Aleix pulls back, smiling down at him.
“Good boy, Pedro.” Maverick chooses that moment to get a third finger in, and Pedro keens. “Sounds like a girl, doesn’t he?” Aleix says, looking at Mav. Pedro tracks the shift of his jaw as he speaks, the tan column of his neck. His mouth waters.
“Yeah. Pretty.”
“Wait till you’re inside,” Aleix drawls, filthy. “Sounds like he’s made for it. Takes me so well.” Stardust sets alight in Pedro’s chest. He takes Aleix well. Makes him feel good. That’s all he fucking cares about. Aleix advertising him to Mav — wait for this, till you feel that, breath strung out in his voice; like fucking Pedro is really that good.
“God, yeah. I think he’s…”
“Ready?”
Maverick hums. Pedro blinks up at Aleix, already spacey. He wants Aleix to look at him again. Forever. Aleix’s hand slides over his cheek, two fingers coming to press at his bottom lip. Pedro opens his mouth instinctually, and Aleix’s fingers slide over his teeth and tongue.
“Suck,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. His thumb draws a gentle line over the slope of Pedro’s cheekbone. Pedro does as he’s told, cheeks hollowing around the intrusion. Maverick’s fingers pull out of him and he makes a sharp noise in his throat, until something blunt nudges at the edge of his hole. His eyes drift to Mav, nestled in the V of his legs. He’d taken his shirt off at some point. Where Aleix is all sharp, cutting muscle, there’s more to Mav. He’s solid, pressed up against the backs of Pedro’s thighs, abs flexing as he starts to press in. There’s no — he’s not wearing a condom, and that does something funny in Pedro’s chest. He knows Aleix would’ve thought about it, asked the right questions. Trusts that much. But now he’s — thinking about Mav coming in him, and — Aleix fucking him after, wet, and —
Pedro’s eyes roll back in his head. Aleix draws his fingers out past Pedro’s lips, leaving a shiny trail of spit down his chin. He strips his shirt off and curls over Pedro to get his mouth on his chest, teeth grazing over a nipple and tongue following close behind. The shift puts Aleix’s midriff right against Pedro’s face, and he heaves a deep breath in, anchoring himself in the dark spice of Aleix’s scent, his sweat and cologne. Maverick bottoms out and Pedro whines, a low burn spreading through his limbs.
Mav shifts forwards a little, waiting for Pedro to stretch around him.
“How’s he like it, Aleix?” he asks, eyes liquid-dark on Pedro’s face, pulling heat to his already pink cheeks. Aleix makes a thoughtful noise.
“Deep. Hard,” he decides. “You want to be able to feel it tomorrow, don’t you, Pedro?”
“Yeah, yeah. Please.” He can’t even string a proper sentence together. Just wants Maverick to move. Wants Aleix to kiss him or put his fingers in his mouth again or just — anything.
“‘Kay.” Maverick pulls out and Pedro doesn’t even have time to moan before his hips are hitched up, before Maverick slams back in, pressing up against a bundle of nerves that sets Pedro’s skin on fire. He falls into the motions in a second, fingers locking up around Aleix’s, other hand fisted in the sheets, mouth open and working over silent pleas.
“Fuck, he is tight. Look at his face,” Mav breathes on a filthy roll of his hips, ripping a whine out of Pedro’s throat. Aleix’s forefinger hooks over the edge of Pedro’s lips, pulls his mouth open and taps a nail against his teeth. Pedro drools.
“Isn’t he pretty. Just dumb for it.”
He is, god he fucking is — Aleix caging him in, fingers in his mouth, hand around his throat; Mav a wall of heat moving against him, fucking deeper on every thrust.
“Aleix,” he slurs. Aleix hms, sliding his attention up to Pedro’s face, away from where he’d been intently watching Maverick’s cock disappear inside him.
“What, baby,” he coos when Pedro doesn’t elaborate, just blinks up at him stupidly. Pedro doesn’t want to say it. Already red, already begging and vulnerable. He tips his face to the side till the bridge of his nose and the swell of his lips are pressed against Aleix’s clothed dick. “Ah,” Aleix mutters, eyes darkening. He strokes his fingers over Pedro’s forehead, runs his nails through his hair. So gentle.
“Gonna make you choke on my cock, Pedro. Come down your throat this time, yeah?”
Fucking Jesus Christ. Whiplash. Pedro’s eyes round, breath catching in his throat. His mind reels back to the two of them outside his motorhome, before the start of all this. Aleix’s casual vulgarity, all real, red hot confidence. He can’t say please again. Can’t get his lips around the words — not when he’s imagining them stretched around Aleix, held in place, nowhere to go. He just nods. Aleix smiles and pats his neck, shifts Pedro for a moment so he can slide his pants off. He comes back around to the side of Pedro’s head, rests it on his thigh again and pulls his dick out of his briefs without any ceremony.
Pedro’s mouth falls open. He wants. Mav fucks into him hard, closes his hands around Pedro’s waist and strangles a moan from his throat. He blinks up at Aleix, eyelashes clotted with unshed tears. Aleix wraps one hand around himself and cups the other around Pedro’s face, angles his jaw just so and pulls him close, slowly feeding his dick past Pedro’s lips.
It’s heavy, and big, and all he can smell is Aleix, heady on his tongue. He swallows instinctively, widens his lips to keep his teeth out of the way and keeps still as Aleix rolls into him. Maverick starts to slow, pulling out at a torturous pace before pressing all the way back in, shooting lightning up his spine. Aleix’s head bumps against the back of his throat and he gags, tears springing to his eyes. He fists a hand in the sheets, swallows desperately and whines involuntarily at the sound of himself choking on Aleix’s cock.
“Shit, Pedro,” Mav breathes. “Fuck.” Aleix hums in agreement.
“He’s so sweet. Just wants to be good, you can tell. Would do anything.”
Pedro blinks up at Aleix, teary. He would. He fucking would. A noise snakes out of his throat, reverberates around Aleix’s dick and draws a surprised little huff from him. Light blooms in Pedro’s chest at the quirk of Aleix’s eyebrows, the way his face goes all slack — fond — looking at him. Pedro can’t investigate that right now, the way it bursts magenta in his veins.
Move, he’s trying to say.
Aleix gets the message. Fists his fingers in Pedro’s hair and uses the grip to fuck him slowly, drawing himself out of the tight seal of Pedro’s lips and rolling straight back in. Pedro’s eyes flutter closed, focused on hollowing his cheeks, laving his tongue over the vein on the underside of Aleix’s cock, and swallowing against the burn in his throat. He brings a hand up to curl over Aleix’s thigh, anchoring himself.
With his eyes shut, the world disappears to two points of contact. Maverick inside him, a deep, slow force, hitting that spot on every thrust; Aleix in his mouth, gradually picking up speed, huffing choked little breaths whenever Pedro moans around him. He shivers against the threat of his orgasm, white pinprick stars bursting on the backs of his eyelids.
“Good boy, Pedro,” Aleix purrs, drawing him out of his trance. “Can’t believe you’ve never done this before. What a crime. Fucking made to suck cock.” God, fuck, Pedro’s going to come if Aleix keeps that up, keening high in the back of his throat. “Look at him, Mav. Your turn after, ha. He’s so fucking eager.” Tears sting his eyes. He’s never going to be able to get Aleix’s voice out of his head.
“I’m not gonna last,” Mav says, and Pedro can hear the smile in his voice, the sharp reveal of teeth. Aleix pushes hard, till his cock nudges Pedro’s throat. Pedro gags again and Aleix keeps him there, hand a firm pressure on the back of his head, holding him steady. Pedro swallows desperately, blinking back tears and trying to pry his jaw wider.
“Come in him,” Aleix mutters, dark, and in the same moment lets go and pulls Pedro off him. Pedro gasps, heaving, lips connected to the head of Aleix’s dick by a glistening line of spit. He shudders, moans at the tone of Aleix’s voice, at the permission, the give. Mav swears, and he sounds like he’s a million miles away. Pedro gasps for another deep breath, fighting against a staticky headrush.
Mav starts to speed up, jolting him on every upstroke, making punched little noises with each roll of his hips. Aleix swipes the back of his knuckles across Pedro’s forehead, pushes his sweat-damp hair out of the way. His hand slides down to Pedro’s throat and curls around it, and then he squeezes, cutting off his oxygen in a sudden ruthless swoop. Mav buries himself deep, hips stuttering, and Pedro comes with him, cry choked by Aleix’s grip on his neck.
He feels Mav’s release inside him, wet and iron-hot, feels Aleix relinquish his hold and bring his fingers back up to brush gently over Pedro’s cheekbones. Mav falls over him, hands planted on either side of his waist, chest heaving. It takes effort to draw his attention from Aleix, but he does it — finds himself peering up at Maverick; brow creased, hair mussed over his forehead, face shiny with sweat.
He’s hot. He’s really fucking hot.
A moment later, Mav inhales a straightening breath and pulls himself upright, eyes half-lidded, sated. There’s something satisfied in the curl of his mouth. He tips his head back, slants his gaze across to Aleix and huffs a disbelieving laugh.
Pedro shifts his attention in time to catch Aleix’s wicked grin, threatening — promising.
“Swap?”