"Are they, ah, tight enough?"
"Yeeuh, I think so." Pickles attempted to slip his fingers into the knots holding Nathan's wrists in place. Nathan too gave a shot at moving; while Pickles managed not to cut off his circulation, he still couldn't budge. "Okay. Now what?"
Seated at the sidelines, Charles sipped his brandy. He'd barely gotten in the door of his personal quarters before a knock followed. Half an hour later, undressed as far as the suit jacket and red tie hanging limply over the back of his chair, Nathan and Pickles visited his bedroom at the same time. Never before had this happened. While Charles entertained them each on their own, the unspoken three-way of sexual expression they shared never quite equated to simultaneity. Nathan and Pickles fucked each other on a regular basis, but they came to Charles when they needed something more than the standard cum-and-go that Nathan fell into habit of. Pickles easily submitted—openly craved it—but Nathan. . .needless to say, when Charles first stood above Dethklok's bulky frontman and saw his green eyes glaze over as surrender took hold, he was a little surprised.
Charles had yet to admit to each his subs that, when boredom struck in the office, he'd flick through the camera feeds about Mordhaus in hopes to catch them at it. Individually, both knew he liked to watch. Sometimes, when he found dreadlocks splayed across Nathan's black sheets or a massive second body in Pickles' mess of a bed, their enthusiasm struck suspicion that they intentionally put a show on for him. Those days more than others, Charles wished the cameras were suited with microphones.
Clearing his throat in his bedroom, Charles pushed his glasses up his nose. "You came clean, you said, Nathan?"
"And I don't mean just around the outside. I mean the inside, too."
Nathan turning sheepish satisfied Charles endlessly, although he kept external exhibition to the merest smirk. Admitting to sticking his fingers there, especially for the intent behind it, was the first step for Nathan to reciprocate what he'd been doing to Pickles all this time. "I, uh. . .yeah. I did."
"Good. Pickles, go ahead and eat him out."
"Ahn it, chief."
Pickles' good nature seemed to calm Nathan back down. The command initially lifted Nathan's head off the pillow, eyes wide, but a deep breath came of a crooked grin and comforting rub of his calf. Thin lips pressed to Nathan's inner thigh on his way inward, pointedly avoiding his erection with a playful look; another exhale grazed Nathan's rallied vocal cords and Charles subconsciously leaned closer as Pickles' face disappeared.
Not that Charles asked, but from what he witnessed Nathan and Pickles' sexual liaisons grew far too monotonous for their liking. A hangdog Pickles apologized shortly after vocalizing he and the other man's request upon arrival, for hopefully it didn't infringe upon all of their respective agreements with each other. How could it, though? The bondage was extra, to keep Nathan from squirming. Charles never actually fucked either of them, so if they wished to expand that practice within themselves, then why would he dream to inhibit them? Especially when given the chance for a front-seat show?
"Feels good, Nathan?"
"Mhm." Abdominals protested, to give Pickles more room to work with. Taking it in stride, Pickles movements grew more spirited. Charles watched Nathan's face as a moan threatened to escape. He'd seen this particular contortion of muscles so many times in silent, grainy, black and white, and now finally he no longer needed to imagine what it must sound like. Even though less feral than expected, Charles found need to rewet his lips anyway.
"Okay." Much as Charles didn't want to snap them out of it, they had plenty of time to explore rim jobs in their own bedrooms. Charles filed away the image of Nathan attempting against his restraints to grind against Pickles' face for later that night. "Did you bring lube?"
"He should be relaxed enough now for you to finger him." Corresponding to the slack expression Charles came to know, Nathan kept his legs spread as Pickles popped the cap. His head rose again when slicked fingers circled about his hole. "Just one at a time."
"Heh." Pickles' crooked grin returned as Nathan's brow furrowed upon permeation. "Doin' alreet there, dood?"
"Think so." Nathan blinked as the rest of Pickles' knuckles rested in his crack.
Charles cleared his throat. "Keep moving, Pickles. Give him a taste of motion."
"Reet." Both Pickles and Charles watched Nathan, for a couple rolls of the wrist lolled his head. "Sahrry. Easy to get distracted."
Understandable; if Charles stood in Pickles' place, he too would find himself stopping at inopportune moments. His position at the bedside was much preferable. He wanted to teach them well, for the spectacles he poised to view. Also, if Pickles and Nathan grew tired of one another because the sex became boring, Charles would sorely miss their leg in the triangle. This worked well, when all parties willed it to.
Charles smiled. "I think you're asking the wrong person."
A confirming grunt from Nathan slowed them as pressure forced Pickles into caution. However deeply Nathan's brow furrowed, his legs coming closer to his chest and precum dripping onto his lower stomach indicated that discomfort didn't at all displease him. From Charles' experience, in fact, Nathan quite enjoyed it when the mood struck right.
"How ya doin'?"
A chuckle lightened the room's mood. Charles found observing Nathan's first time bottoming a serious affair, but sex without some laughter was equatable to food without spice. With it, Nathan grew more confident and he and Pickles chatted more frequently. Preoccupation of his mouth made Nathan not fully realize that he'd taken two entire fingers.
As Pickles became more spirited with it, Nathan licked his lips. "Okay, I'm dying here. Third one. That's how this goes, right?"
"One more," Charles confirmed. "Then you should be ready for Pickles to penetrate you."
"Dood, jest say feck. Thet makes it sound so clinical."
"Very well, then. One more finger, and then Pickles can fuck you."
Charles shared Nathan's impatience. Having done this in college before realizing that fitting body parts together wasn't his interest in the bedroom, Charles too remembered this moment, when mentality beat physicality in readiness. Nathan's hips moved more now, naturally attempting to catch rhythm, and Charles sincerely hoped that he enjoyed it more than him. All that build-up just for. . .nothing, was a huge disappointment to both Charles and his boyfriend of the time.
He cleared his throat when, yet again, Nathan and Pickles threatened to derail themselves. "It's time."
With a glance, Pickles snapped out of his focus. Three fingers inside Nathan and a receptive partner had evolved use of his wrist for leverage into his entire arm. "Ya reddy, dood?"
"Go ahead, yeah."
This was the point where Charles melted into the shadows. Nathan and Pickles only needed him to reach this point, to work collectively under their Dom until Nathan became comfortable enough to relent control to a second man. As Pickles wiped his fingers on the towel provided and brought forth more laughter from Nathan in attempt to quell any lingering nerves, Charles might have been watching yet again through a camera. He appreciated the opportunity to listen in, though.
Fully undressed, Pickles kneeled between Nathan's legs as he rolled on a condom. Charles' breath caught in his throat as the head pressed against Nathan, then it departed his lungs as a trembling body yielded.
"You think this is hard, I thaught you mighta broke somethin', the first time you fucked me," Pickles joked. Fresh, breathy laughter from further down the bed allowed them to settle together. "Well, there ya go, dood. You gaht a whole dick in yer butt."
Pickles couldn't go very hard, nor did he need to. Merely rocking against Nathan turned the man's erection into a rigid, leaking eyesore. When erraticism threatened Pickles' hips, a handful of strokes did the job. At the end of it all, Charles looked forward to seeing Nathan's muscles strain similarly in future. As the two of them stared at each other somewhere between surprise and satisfaction, they were reminded of a third party. "Well done, boys."
"Heh." Pickles pulled out as carefully as he could, gaining another groan from Nathan, and made quick work of removing and tying the condom. "Sahrry again fer crashin'. You want us to send someone in to change yer sheets?"
"I can, ah, tend to that myself, thank you. Just untie Nathan now and take care of him." Charles directed attention to Nathan, next. "You're going to be a little sore. Find some painkillers and take it easy."
Charles showed a springy Pickles and cautiously-moving Nathan to the door. With another round of goodbyes, they'd departed. Charles sighed and made the necessary call for fresh bedding before seeking out the box of cigars tucked away in his bedroom closet. He made a habit of enjoying one in wake of a successful session, and while different than usual, he considered this one just as qualifying.