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autumn's beginning

Summary:

“We’re not conspiring against you,” James says, at the exact same time as Silver says, “We’re pirates. Of course we conspire.”

(Or, what happens after at summer's end. The smutty coda to their evening.)

Notes:

With thanks to lupismaris for all the helpful feedback, as well as to whoever lit this beautiful shot of Rupert Penry-Jones, who plays Thomas.

Work Text:

Thomas still feels Silver’s breath on his cheek, the heat of him next to him on the couch. His heart is racing, and his lips tingle with the kisses they’ve just exchanged. He turns to look at James, who continues to stand in the doorway, filling it with his broad frame. His face is soft in the warm lamp light, and he’s just walked in on them making out on the couch, but somehow his expression is only one of mild amusement.

One of Silver’s hands drops to Thomas’ thigh, a warm and steady weight through the fabric of his breeches.

When Thomas glances back at Silver he expects him to look as though caught with his fingers in another man’s pocket, but Silver only smiles, pleased with himself and slightly flushed. It’s a good look on him, and Thomas realizes a number of things at once.

“You set this up.” His gaze jumps back and forth between them. He’s not actually upset, but he feels entitled to some answers.

James crosses the room and picks up the book that’s dropped to the floor. Thomas was meant to read from it, and instead he’s been… helping himself to James’ partner, in a sense. He feels a flicker of guilt as he watches James smooth the pages carefully, setting the book down on the side table before sinking into the armchair. He hasn’t said a word yet, and his calmness is maddening.

Thomas raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. “Well, did you?”

“Hardly.” James leans back and strokes the edges of his beard. “But Silver had expressed an interest and …”

“… and he said,” Silver nods towards James, “that he wasn’t troubled by the idea of …”

“You’ve set this up,” Thomas repeats, indignant, “and now you’re finishing each other’s sentences.”

“Would you rather I was upset?” James leans forward slightly.

“No, I just—” Thomas takes a deep breath. Somehow, Silver’s hand has edged further up his thigh, and he’s not used to not being ahead of everyone else in the room. He grips Silver’s wrist, stopping its forward momentum and gathering himself. “I thought I was giving the two of you time to get to know each other again, to figure out how you worked together under these new circumstances, and not time to… conspire against me.”

“We’re not conspiring against you,” James says, at the exact same time as Silver says, “We’re pirates. Of course we conspire.”

The situation is so absurd that Thomas is helpless against the laughter bubbling up inside him. It overwhelms him, and whatever tension he’s feeling dissipates along with the sound. He shakes his head at the both of them, wiping the tears from his eyes when he feels sufficiently calm again.

“I should have known,” he says. “I should have known what I was getting myself into.”

“If you must know the true extent of what you’re getting yourself into,” James’ grin turns shark-like, “Silver here said to me that he’d like to suck your cock, to which I only said that I’d love to see him try.”

Oh.

“Is that so?” Thomas studies Silver again, who has the decency to appear bashful. Unfortunately, it is also a good look on him.

Silver nods with a hum of agreement, but there’s a twitch to the corner of his mouth that hints at something more.

“So how exactly did this topic come up in conversation?” Thomas asks.

“Oh, it arose naturally while we were… otherwise occupied.”

“It arose, did it?”

“Mmmmh.” Silver bites his lips in a move that has to be calculated, but it draws Thomas’ eye anyway. Silver’s eyes have turned dark, a stark contrast to the bright red of his mouth.

Thomas gives up the dizzying fight against the urge to reach out and cradles his jaw. “Been thinking about my cock, have you?”

Silver leans into the touch, and something inside of Thomas comes alive, purring into existence. “Not just that. But yes, I may have.”

“What else?” Thomas demands softly. “What else have you been thinking about?”

“Ahem.” James clears his throat to announce his presence. It doesn’t break the spell so much as extend it, weaving James into whatever’s happening between them. “Don’t mind me. I’m just gonna get myself a drink while you two sort yourselves out.”

When Thomas looks at him, James nods in a way that means, I’m good if you are, and the laugh lines around his eyes seem to agree. He busies himself with the drinks cabinet and puts another log onto the fire, and a rush of gratitude floods through Thomas, warm and sustaining.

“As it happens,” Silver’s voice is low, pulling him back into the moment, “I’ve also been thinking about this.”

He leans into Thomas’ space, eyes half-closed and lips parted, waiting for him to bridge the distance between them. Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas sees James settling back into the armchair, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, his whole bearing completely at ease.

Well then.

Beneath the scratch of a day’s worth of stubble, Silver’s lips are just as warm and soft as he remembers them, inviting him to sink deeper. His mouth opens eagerly, and Thomas tastes rich food and the glass of wine they’ve had for dinner, and underneath it something sharper, twisting, Silver himself, wanting him.

He closes his eyes and allows himself to want this in return, the electric touch of Silver’s tongue against his, all those new and different sensations. He pulls him closer by the nape of his neck, the tips of his fingers digging into that mess of curls, and Silver’s hands come to rest on his chest. There’s a sense of vertigo as his fingers dip lower, drifting over his ribcage and side and pulling at the hem of his shirt until they discover skin. His hands are less calloused than James’, and more explorative, still unfamiliar with this new territory.

Usually, Thomas would pull a man into his lap now—he has memories of it, encounters from another lifetime—but he’s not sure how straddling his lap would agree with Silver’s leg. Probably not too well, he imagines. He tugs Silver’s head back to speak to him, just as Silver reaches for his belt.

“Let me,” Silver says, assuming that he’s had second thoughts. “It’s all right. I want to.”

His eyes are glazed, and when Thomas tightens his grip in his hair, his mouth opens on a soft moan. Thomas files the reaction away for later and nods at him to continue.

Silver’s hands are back at his belt within seconds, but instantly get distracted by the hardness pressing against it.

“Wait a minute.” Silver’s fingertips map out the bulge in his trousers. “Fuck. I see how it is.”

James has the audacity to snort into his whiskey glass. There’s a book in his lap, but he doesn’t even pretend to read it, and for a fleeting moment Thomas appreciates being part of a household full of schemers, each in his own way.

With incredibly nimble fingers—which shouldn’t be surprising, he thinks—Silver unbuckles his belt. He digs at the layers beneath and then just pulls his breeches and underclothes down in one go, Thomas lifting his hips to assist.

His cock slaps fat and heavy against his belly, rising into Silver’s touch.

“Well, that explains a lot.” Silver glares towards the armchair and then back at Thomas. “Certainly explains why he can’t fucking keep quiet when he’s with you.”

“Yes, I understand it can be rather difficult.” Thomas exchanges a smile with James, who is busy feigning innocence. “He tries his best, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Silver grumbles as the past few weeks flash before his eyes. His fingers skim Thomas’ length and then close around it, getting a feel for its heft. He watches Thomas’ reactions closely, stroking him until his cock is throbbing in his hand and Thomas is hissing with arousal.

“Why don’t you take this off?” Thomas pulls at the back of Silver’s shirt. If this is finally happening, he wants to see him as well. It would be a lie to say that he hasn’t thought about Silver over the past few weeks, his disarming smiles and quicksilver wit, and also the glimpses he’s caught of his body, sharing a house with him—Silver’s muscular forearms when he’s in his shirtsleeves, his bare chest after a bath, water dripping from his hair and running over his skin. He’s noticed him, of course he has, he’s still got a pulse after all. But he’s held back, not knowing if an obvious show of interest would be welcomed.

(And it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, clearing up any misconceptions with heated looks and the touch of impatient hands.)

So now, when Silver whips off his shirt and drops it to the floor, everything is different. Now Thomas can look his fill. Now the sight is offered to his delight.

He drinks it in, memorizing the pale outlines of scars set against skin darkened after a summer spent pirating, and admires the trail of hair leading down from his navel. As if noticing his glance, Silver opens his breeches and pulls himself out, hard in his hand, and beautiful. Thomas quickly divests himself of his shirt while Silver gives himself a couple of strokes, and when Thomas touches him again it seems right, like something that’s been approaching for a long time finally reaching its destination: not an unplanned excursion, but a feeling of coming home.

Silver feels lithe and strong under his hands, slim but broad-shouldered and well-muscled. He’s all but humming with a restrained sort of power, and his skin is softer than it has any right to be. When they kiss again Thomas gasps into his mouth, and Silver’s cock is warm and weighty in his hand, reassuring and promising at the same time. Silver’s hands roam over his body, and they could do this forever, explore each other and take their time with it, but something niggles at the back of his consciousness, a half-forgotten promise.

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do?” he mumbles against Silver’s mouth, pushing up into his touch.

Silver hums, and his gaze flicks down to where Thomas’ cock is leaking precum into his hand.

“If you feel up to it, of course,” Thomas adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Let’s see if I feel up to it.” With a last squeeze to his cock, Silver’s fingers trail over the tip, gathering up the wetness there. Then he lifts his hand away, grinning. He looks deep into Thomas’ eyes as he licks his precum off his palm and fingers.

Thomas’ heart stumbles in his chest, and it really shouldn’t, it shouldn’t do that at such an obvious gesture, but he can’t help himself. Silver looks delightful with his wicked grin and his wicked tongue curling around his wicked fingers, and he wants that mouth on his cock, now.

He pulls Silver in for a heated kiss, hard and hungry, and he hears James inhale sharply, shifting his weight in the armchair.

“Do you mind if he watches?” he asks, loud enough so that James can hear it, and Silver smiles and blows a stray curl out of his face as if it’s a silly question but he’s glad he was asked. Then he tucks his hair behind his ears and bends down.

There’s a moment of sweet anticipation, of hot breath against his skin, and then Silver wraps his lips around Thomas’ cock, and oh, that feels like homecoming too. Warm and wet and so, so good, the way he laps at the tip before sealing his lips, trying to figure out the fit of it in his mouth.

Thomas exhales softly and lets his head fall back as Silver begins to suck him, his curls tickling against the exposed skin of his groin despite his efforts. Silver is playful with it, teasing and toying at his cock before taking more of it into his mouth, unhurried where James would be full of quiet intensity—which is good in its own way. But this is luxurious and slow, and when Thomas’ hand finds its way into his hair, Silver moans against him in obvious enjoyment.

It’s all the encouragement Thomas needs. He gathers up Silver’s hair in a loose bunch while James watches them, still nursing his whiskey, and of course this way he can see better too, with all those curls out of the way. Thomas watches as his cock disappears in Silver’s mouth, his lips stretching around it, and when Silver moans again, it resonates deep in his bones.

“Fuck, you’re… quite something,” Silver says when he pulls off, pressing his fingers into the hinge of his jaw. He licks a stripe up Thomas’ length and looks up at him. “Show me how you like it?”

He clearly wants him to, so Thomas grabs a fistful of hair and directs him, letting Silver’s lips flick over the ridge of his cock head and encouraging him when his tongue finds a good spot. He experiments with pressing his cock into Silver’s cheek or against the back of his throat, and Silver gasps and relaxes under him, asking for more. It’s a heady feeling to be given such control, and Thomas feels James’ attention on them like an additional touch, his eyes following their every movement and his face flushed with arousal.

“That’s it, right there, you’re doing so well,” Thomas says when Silver lets him fuck into his throat again, and across from them James breathes hard.

The next time Silver tries to take him deep he ends up choking on it, and Thomas gives him space right away, but he can’t help but notice how James’ eyes grow dark and his knuckles white around his whiskey glass.

“I think he likes to see you struggle,” Thomas says to Silver, moving a curl out of his face. “You want to see if we can get him to put that book away and come over?”

Silver hums his agreement and keeps perfect eye contact with James as he sinks back down on Thomas’ cock. He lets it hit the back of his throat again and again, and James’ dumbstruck look as he watches them feels just as good as Silver’s mouth does, swallowing around him. It doesn’t take long before Silver chokes again, panting hard when he comes up. He’s making a bit of a show of it, as far as Thomas can tell, playing up his reactions, but the wide-eyed and overwhelmed look on his face seems real, and it suits him far too well.

Without taking his eyes off them, James deposits the book and his glass on the table. Thomas knows he must be achingly hard—he is intimately familiar with that expression of glazed arousal, and he knows when James is denying himself something he wants.

“Come here.” Thomas nods to his side, and when James gets there, he pulls him down into a kiss. James returns it like a man drowning, and Thomas quickly unbuttons his trousers. “I think by now we all know that he’s got enough of a mouth on him for both of us,” he says between kisses, and it’s true: Silver is already motioning for James to come closer, with what Thomas believes might even be a seductive batting of eyelashes.

He alternates between them, and it’s a treat to watch him with James, all eagerness and dedication, as if the act of sucking dick could get him off as well. James clearly feels he has some catching-up to do, because he reclaims Silver’s mouth with intense determination, thrusting in and tugging at Silver’s hair until Silver moans and pants around him.

When he lets go of him, Silver returns to Thomas’ cock with renewed vigor, and Thomas feels like his head is spinning. There’s Silver in his lap, bobbing up and down, and James in front of him, touching himself while he waits his turn. At this rate, neither of them is going to last much longer, and Thomas reaches for James’ cock, wrapping his hand around it.

They’re all linked now, and even though James moans at his touch, Thomas’ focus is slipping. It’s all too much, and his hands drop back down when Silver moves over him just right. He’s so close he can taste it, the hot overwhelming urge to come, just a little more, just a little closer, and then suddenly there’s no time left for a warning. His hands clench in Silver’s hair and he tenses and shoots his release directly into his mouth. It goes on for a while, and Silver swallows and keeps sucking him until Thomas flinches back, oversensitive and spent.

Silver turns back to James, but the sight of Thomas coming and of Silver’s fucked-out face must have been enough to tip him over the edge as well. James grabs hold of him and spends himself half into Silver’s open and willing mouth and half all over his face, covering his cheeks and nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Silver complains, but James is already pushing him back into the couch and dropping to his knees. He makes it up to him with a ferocious blowjob, and Silver comes down his throat with a beatific expression and James’ release still on his face, all but forgotten.

Thomas decides to help the poor man out while he’s still catching his breath. He gently wipes James’ release off him and licks it off his fingers, and then both he and James kiss him until Silver complains of being covered in a completely different bodily fluid altogether.

It’s not quite how any of them expected the evening to go, but on the whole it turns out to be an evening well-spent.

A short while later, when they’re all curled up in bed together, a tired out Silver softly snoring between them, Thomas lies awake, listening to the sound of their breathing.

Yes, he thinks as he drifts off to sleep, a warm sense of fulfillment spreading through him.

Yes, Silver was going to fit into their new lives quite nicely.

 

 

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