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Len bites his lip hard enough to bleed as he takes in the sight before him.
The sheets on the bed are rucked about and barely still clinging to the mattress, a single pillow sits plush beneath a mop of dark hair and the rest of the pillows are scattered around the bed.
Mick’s huge, hulking frame rocks the bed rhythmically against the wall as he thrusts into Ray’s pliant, loose body. Mick’s skin is flushed and shining with sweat and his muscles are straining—his thighs are bulging with the effort of his thrusts and his biceps are flexing as his grip shifts on Ray’s hips.
He’s picturesque in his passion, Len thinks, an interesting blend of old and new. Old Mick was wild and rough, sometimes to the point of uncaring; new Mick is wild and rough but also delicate and measured in his movements. He’s fucking Ray with abandon and his grip will leave palm-sized bruises on Ray’s skin, but there’s no pain or fear to be felt from Mick’s touch.
Ray seems to contrast Mick in every way. His skin is soft and pale and though flushed, he’s not nearly as red as Mick; where Mick’s body is tight and controlled, Ray’s frame is loose-limbed and relaxed. Ray’s hair is spread out messily over the single pillow on the bed and his face is overtaken by a dazed grin. He tilts his head to one side and locks eyes with Len, and his grin grows.
Len’s legs are shaking and his cock is so hard it hurts. He’s shirtless and thankful for it, and he’s fast becoming bored with his pants. He pads slowly toward the bed, cautious, almost more partial to watch the show on display rather than partake.
“C’mon, Lenny, let the pretty boy suck your cock.”
Len can’t help it—he groans at that, in time with Ray’s own desperate and breathy plea. Len absent-mindedly undoes his belt and shoves his pants off as quickly as he can. He steps out of the garment and takes the last few steps toward Ray. Len shifts onto the bed; he presses a knee against the mattress and leans in close. He helps Ray sit up just enough to be eye-level with Len’s dick.
Ray’s brown eyes flick to catch Len’s blue, then he smiles dopily. Ray lets his lower lip drop as an invitation and makes a muffled, delighted noise as Len guides his cock into Ray’s waiting mouth. Len shudders as inch by inch of wet heat encases his prick and barely holds himself back from thrusting forward eagerly. As the bed keeps rocking to the beat of Mick’s own thrusts, Len wants to match the rhythm and fuck Ray’s mouth.
“Y’can, Lenny.” Mick’s voice breaks through his haze, “he can take it, got a slut mouth. Deep throats like he could do it all day.” Mick reaches out and trails his fingers along Ray’s chest, flicking each of his nipples to earn a shudder in return. Mick’s grin is hungry and predatory and reverent. “Grab his hair, mess up that nice little haircut, he loves it.”
Len doesn’t bother pointing out that Ray’s hair is far from the usual well-put together look it typically is, and grips a handful of the soft black hair obediently. He’s rewarded with a sigh from Ray, an exhale through his nose that has hot breath skittering across the sensitive skin of Len’s groin. Len tugs the handful of hair again and Ray goes still.
Len starts to roll his hips, slowly at first, far slower than Mick’s own punishing pace. Ray’s body relaxes again and his eyes flutter shut; his mouth opens wider for Len and offers no resistance. Len shivers and pumps his hips faster, groaning each time the head of his cock hits the back of Ray’s throat. Len drops a second hand to Ray’s hair and pulls him closer to meet every thrust; idly, distantly, he marvels that Ray never falters or gags. Ray only moans, wanton if stifled, and the vibrations run like electric currents through Len’s veins.
“Fuck, doesn’t he take it so good?” Mick murmurs. His grip has shifted again, this time one hand is locked around the leg Ray’s thrown over Mick’s shoulder, and the other hand is curled around Ray’s own stiff cock.
“He loves it, too,” Mick continues, “loves bein’ so full of cock, such a whore for it. For us.”
Mick’s words send another tidal wave of thrills down Len’s spine, particularly ‘us’.
He and Mick have been struggling the past few weeks. Their relationship is better but they aren’t perfect, conversations are still strained and they both take turns shooting biting remarks at one another; neither hesitates to dole out reminders of all the ways they’ve hurt each other.
Here and now, though, they’re a team again. They’re partners in driving Ray wild and taking him apart and pushing him over the brink. It feels good, Len thinks, to have something to bridge the gap between him and Mick. He’d never expected it to be Palmer of all people, but he isn’t going to complain.
Yet again, Mick draws Len from his thoughts. Mick’s hips start to stutter and his groans get louder, stronger, more obnoxious. Mick’s grip on Ray’s cock falters for a moment as he comes. He slams his hips forward once, twice more before coming deep inside Ray with a hiss. Ray moans at the feeling and the sound buzzes around Len’s prick and nearly pushes him over the edge too.
Mick pulls out of Ray before falling forward, spent, and curling around Ray’s back. Mick’s hands dance across Ray’s skin while he peppers kisses to Ray’s shoulders. His hand teases Ray’s cock, never getting quite close enough, and he kisses his way up Ray’s neck to stage-whisper in his ear. Mick’s gaze slides over to Len and he’s grinning around his words.
“Can’t wait to watch Lenny fuck you,” Mick hisses. His hand resumes stroking Ray off as he speaks. “Wanna watch you ride him, then me. We’re gonna fuck you till you’re sore and not gonna let you come.”
Len is caught between the slick heat around his prick and the intoxicating sound of Mick’s voice purring fantasies.
“What d’ya say, pretty boy,” Mick kisses Ray’s cheek then sucks a hickey just below the ridge of his jaw, “think you could take both our cocks at once? Two dicks fillin’ you up?”
Ray pulls back, finally, and gasps. He coughs and his lips shine with precome and spit. He looks at Mick with wide, startled eyes and Len takes over, jerking his cock with Ray’s spit to ease the glide. Len’s own mind is blazing with the thought of both him and Mick fucking Ray, at the same time. It’s absurd and extreme and so very Mick, it ignites a fond fire in Len’s chest that couples nicely with the heat of passion steaming the room around them.
“Lenny?” Mick looks up at him, really seeing him for the first time since this started, “come on, Len, come all over his pretty face.”
Len obeys, he can’t hold back at Mick’s tone. He strokes his cock fast and tight until his come is spilling out and landing across Ray’s lips. Ray tilts his head again so that another streak of come lands on his cheek, and his nose. Len tips forward and braces his freehand against the wall, letting his dick go soft in his hand and taking in the gorgeous view of Ray Palmer’s face covered in come.
Len stands on shaking legs as he watches Mick finish taking Ray apart. Len listens to the slick sound of Mick’s fist jerking Ray off and the soft little gasps Ray offers in return. Len watches Mick lap at the come clinging to Ray’s skin and drinks in Ray’s answering whimpers. Ray is a mess, Len thinks, a pleasure-addled mess who can barely string words together. Mick seems to know exactly what to say to drive Ray wild, and Len wants to learn. He wants to know what gets Ray going, what gets Ray off.
Len has sunk to his knees by the time Ray comes; he leans against the bed and watches the way pleasure contorts Ray’s face. Ray throws his head back against the pillow again, his fingers clench where they’re digging into Mick’s skin, and he screams—
“Oh, fuck!”
His voice is loud and unashamed and Len has no doubt that everyone else on the Waverider heard him. Sparks of pride and jealously run rampant through Len and he leans in to kiss Ray the moment he quiets down. Mick sits back and watches; he reaches out and scrapes his nails along Len’s scalp before letting his hand rest possessively at the base of Len’s neck.
Eventually, Len pulls back from the kiss and can’t decide who to stare at.
Ray’s eyes drift shut as he melts into the bed again, grinning and panting and clearly drifting to sleep. Len turns his attention to Mick, but can’t think of what to say.
Mick doesn’t shy away from him and doesn’t take his hand back. “We should get ‘im cleaned up. If he’s still sticky when he wakes up, he gets fussy.”
Len wants to ask how Mick has learned all this in between coming back and pointedly ignoring him. Len wants to know where Mick found all this spare time to learn Ray’s body so intimately. Len wants to feel betrayed that Mick has been getting his kicks elsewhere when Len had made it clear Mick could still come to him.
Len wants to say and do a million things, but he just follows Mick’s lead and helps get Ray in order. He helps wipe Ray’s stomach and thighs and face clean, helps change the sheets and helps maneuver Ray so that he lays comfortable between him and Mick.
Len looks at Mick with uneasy eyes.
Mick shrugs. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Lenny.”
“Say you’ll have me too.” Len blurts out before his mouth snaps shut, teeth clacking. A flush of embarrassment burns his neck but he doesn’t take the words back. He doesn’t look away from Mick, either.
Mick’s own eyes widen, just as surprised as Len feels. Neither of them speaks for a while and the silence feels like it’s on the verge of erupting.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mick growls softly in a tone that leaves no room for argument. It’s possessive and sharp and familiar, so much so that Len feels overwhelmed. “So long as you don’t mind him,” Mick brushes a stray hair from Ray’s face for emphasis, “and so long as you don’t mind me,” Mick leans over Ray and tilts his head toward Len, “you’re not going anywhere.”
Len shivers and meets Mick halfway for the kiss. Len cups his jaw and kisses him sweetly, softly, parts with a bite to Mick’s lower lip.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Len agrees.