this got super long and i'll reformat it later ✨
Driver hasn’t been touched, let alone touched himself, since he parked. Standard looked remarkably put together for a man who just ran a heist and then spent the entire getaway teasing himself and Driver.
The elevator slides shut and Standard rounds on him. Driver’s back hits the wood as his lips hit Standard’s. He moans into the kiss, not startled in the slightest when Standard slides his tongue in.
The elevator stops. The break apart, panting.
Standard drags him to his and Irene’s apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.
He’s gentle pushing Driver’s jacket off, laying it against the back of the couch with care. He treats Driver with a similar gentleness, pulling him towards their bedroom.
Benicio is at a friend’s house for the weekend, which means Irene is dressed down and they have the apartment to themselves. She’s sitting in bed with a book that Driver doesn’t manage to catch the title of before Standard crowds him onto his back. His head ends up right next to Irene’s thigh.
She smiles down at him and tucks a bookmark in between the pages. He smiles back, only a little dazed.
Driver turns his face into her thigh when he feels Standard start to work his belt open. Irene sets her book down, returning her hand to Driver’s hair. He's had their hands on him dozens of times before, but it's still a shock to feel both of them at once.
Standard's hand rests on Driver's stomach—just where his shirt rode up—and he leans over him to kiss Irene. Its sweet and short and punctuated with a quiet, "Hey."
Irene huffs a laugh, "Hello boys."
Standard drags his hand down to Driver's waistband and tugs. Driver's heart is pounding in his chest as he nods, the leftover adrenaline getting a second wind and rushing though his veins. Standard pulls his jeans off, than his own.
His erection is painfully obvious to himself, but, in just his briefs and a rucked up t-shirt, its painfully obvious to Irene and Standard, too. Driver whimpers into Irene's thigh when Standard cups him.
"We're not bothering you, are we, Rena?"
She scratches at Driver's scalp, almost subconsciously, "Not at all."
Standard's hands end up back at Driver's hips, thumbs hooked under Driver's briefs. Driver lifts his hips; the only thing keeping him stable is Standard. Standard has just started to take them off when Irene says, "I think you should turn him over, though."
The move Standard pulls flips him onto his stomach and removes his underwear off in a single motion. When the fuck did he learn how to do that? Driver ends up with his head between Irene's thighs and his dick trapped between the bed below him and the weight of Standard above him.
Standard leans over to the bedside table. Driver hears the click of the lube bottle. Part of him wishes he'd pulled into a parking garage and let Standard finger him open with his own spit in the back of his car, but a much louder part is glad that he gets to feel Irene run her fingers though his hair while Standard takes him apart.
He glides a finger in and Driver moans into Irene's thigh, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the same spot. The tension starts to bleed out of him, even as Standard adds a second finger. He pulls Driver's hips up, crooking his fingers down and hitting Driver's prostate. Driver whines, his dick twitching in the open air.
Sometimes, Driver thinks Standard knows just a little too much, because he only ever gives Driver a second more than he needs of recovery time before prodding at that sensitive bundle of nerves again.
It doesn't take long. Driver hadn't been able to sleep last night, so, alone in his apartment, he fingered himself until he came with Standard's name on his lips. Standard always has a better angle, though.
He presses his dick against Driver's ass. Driver pushes himself back onto Standard's fingers just to hear Standard groan from the friction. He pulls his fingers out with one last brush of Driver's prostate. Driver gasps from the loss and from the very sudden realization of how close he is.
Driver whines, trying to gather any semblance of a sentence to string together.
Standard leans down, stabilizing himself by gripping Irene's thigh, "Talk to me, Casey." The way he purrs Driver's name makes the man want to melt. "Good," he manages. His voice shakes a little, "So good, fuck- I-"
He kisses Driver's shoulder, lining himself up but not yet pushing in.
"You what?" Irene turns his head and Driver feels his face heat up.
She has a knowing smile on her face and Standard is smirking into his back. Driver whimpers from the exposure. "Close," he whispers.
Irene brushes his hair back. Standard grinds against him, "You think you can last a little bit longer?"
He nods into Irene's hand, not entirely sure that he's being honest.
Standard pulls back before sinking slowly into him with a groan. Driver shudders at the intrusion and Irene finally let him press his face back into her thigh.
He thinks he might stay true to his word until Standard grabs his hips and pulls himself flush against Driver. He cums with a jerk forward and a quiet gasp, clenching around Standard and gripping the sheets. Standard rocks forward with him, and Driver's head is still clear enough to hear his moan.
"Sometimes," Standard chuckles, rubbing small circles into Driver's hips, "I get the feeling you like me."
Irene giggles, "Be nice."
Driver recovers enough to admit, "I do."
He turns away from Irene's thigh afterwards, hiding his face in the sheets. Irene starts to move and he peeks, curious, once her hand leaves his head. She lifts onto her knees to slide out of her shorts without bumping him. Irene wasn't wearing any panties and Driver's dick tries to defy biology to get hard again immediately.
Standard takes the opportunity to run a hand through Driver's hair. He knows—his heart rate hasn't gone down and this doesn't help—what's going to happen before it does because of the way Standard threads his fingers through Driver's hair.
Irene sits back down, but Standard pulls Driver's head back. He keeps his hold until Irene slides forward—slides under him—and brushes Standard's hand away. Driver keeps his head up, looking up at her and fighting with himself to flat out beg for what he wants. She has to see it in his eyes because she smiles at him. Its not her normal smile, this one's sharper.
He's salivating so much that he chokes when Standard thrusts shallowly into him. Its only once, but its enough for Driver to whimper, "Irena, please?"
"How could I say no to a face like that?"
She pushes his head down and Driver nuzzles into the fine hairs—she only trims her bikini line but neither him nor Standard care. He brings a hand up to her leg, pushing it up to get better access and then resting it on the back of her thigh.
Standard squeezes his hips, and its the only warning Driver gets before he's thrusting into him. The strokes are fast and deep and Driver is panting against Irene's clit because he can't get his thoughts together.
Irene solves that problem pretty quickly, pressing Driver's head down until his open mouth is on her. He strokes his tongue over her clit with a quiet moan. His heart is still pounding his his chest and Standard is still pounding into him, but Irene has always liked it slow and gentle and he'll be damned if he doesn't perform.
He dips lower, gasping when Standard adjusts his angle, and slides his tongue inside of Irene. Driver drools at the taste of her, completely uncaring of the mess he's making. He keeps nosing at he clit as he works her with his tongue. She's beyond wet for him.
Irene pulls his hair, guiding him up just a little and then sighing in pleasure.
Standard squeezes his hips again, the feeling of callouses digging into his skin and the change of pace to something much slower makes Driver whine into Irene. She scratches at his scalp and he can hear Standard laughing.
Fuck, its exactly where Driver wants to be.
The tears well up and he redoubles his efforts to get Irene off. She gasps when Driver curls his tongue inside of her. He pushes, seeing how deep he can get with just his tongue. She moans quietly from years of habit. Driver doesn't care how quiet she is as long as he can hear her over the slick sounds of Standard pumping into him.
We he listens, he can hear how labored Standard's breathing has gotten. Driver meets one of Standard's thrusts and draws a punched out moan from the man. "Fuck, Casey. You keep that up and I won't be able to pull out in time."
Despite how many times they've had sex, Standard's never come inside either of them without a condom on. Driver never brought it up but he's got an opportunity now and he is not going to waste it. He pulls away from Irene enough to say, "Don't."
Standard's grip tightens on him, "You don't want me to pull out?"
Its an earnest question but Driver moans at just the thought of it. "No."
Standard's tone changes, something less serious, more teasing, "You want me to make a mess of you?"
He whines against Irene's clit, trying to get her closer than he feels, but Standard keeps going, "Is that why you're always wanna be in the middle, Casey? So we'll make a pretty mess of you?"
Arousal pools in his gut, sparking through him from where he's connected to his partners. His dick twitches, begging for friction and pressure. Driver hadn't realized how much he needed it until the opportunity slammed into him.
Standard leans over him, pressing his stomach against his back, "Is that what you want?"
The only word, repeating over and over, in Driver's head is, "Please."
"Only because you asked so nicely," Standard purrs.
Driver's heart skips a beat. He doesn't realize that he's gone still until Irene grinds up into his face with a needy whine. He's fluttering his tongue over her clit before she can remind him again.
Standard changes his pace again, his thrusts are quick snaps of his hips that strike Driver's ass so hard that he knows it'll sting for the rest of the night. He starts to leak as Irene pulls at his hair. She's not trying to guide him anywhere, only trying to hold on while Driver brings her closer.
Driver sucks gently at Irene's clit, careful not to nip at her with Standard absolutely determined to take him apart from behind. Irene's thighs tense. She tries to bring them together with a little squeal and only succeeds in encouraging Driver to work harder.
Standard moans and his hips stutter, but he recovers. Irene reaches up to palm at her chest. Driver swirls his tongue around her swollen clit in a slow, constant glide.
Every sensation he feels is a measure of contrasts.
Irene breaks first, finding her release on Driver's tongue. He waits, for just a moment, before licking up what he can, careful of how sensitive she is. She releases her thighs' death grip on his head and he leans against one.
Driver breathes, his heart thumps in his chest. Irene reaches down to lift his chin up and he knows he must make one hell of a sight. Saliva and cum drools from his mouth and coats his chin, and his tear tracks are probably visible. He flits his tongue to lick his lips and savors the taste of her.
He arches his back a little more, meeting Standard's thrust and drawing a moan out of him. The weight of Standard on top of him is incredible, but its the little noises that he presses into Driver's back that are intoxicating.
He clenches around his dick and Standard whimpers. The drag of Standard inside of him is near overwhelming. Standard's thrusts lose consistency so Driver works hips to keep better friction until he's held in place and Standard's nails dig into his skin.
Standard moans Driver's name as he comes inside of him. His thrusts are slow and shallow but they light Driver on fire all the same. He presses open mouthed kissed onto Driver's back as he recovers.
Driver feels so full that he might cry.
Standard's cum spills out of him and drips down his thighs to meet the mess he'd already made of the sheets. Standard drags his hand along the inside of Driver's thigh and then wraps his hand around Driver's shaft. Standard strokes Driver's cum-slick dick, still deep inside the man.
Driver comes a second time with a broken moan after less than a minute. Standard works him though it and they both catch their breath.
He lifts himself off of Driver's back. He starts to pull out—Driver can feel the cum escape—but he fucks into Driver one more time. He whines when Standard pulls out. Driver flops onto his side, narrowly avoiding his cum on the sheets, and then rolls onto his back to look up at Standard.
"Jesus, Case, you are a pretty mess, huh?"
vaporwave
2087
izzy806
gummygunk
stormborns
romaincrisis
areudirty
dailybridgerton
yousharknotpass
