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comphy-and-cozy · 2 years

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A Night in Paris

Pairing: Top Gun pilot!JT Compher x Reader (f) x Top Gun pilot!Tyson Jost

Summary: Anything can happen on a Friday night at the Hard Deck. When you run into some old friends in search of a night to remember, you just might end up getting exactly what you wished for.

Word Count: 10.6K

Author’s Note: I’m… speechless. I’ve labeled other fics as ‘the filthiest thing I’ve ever written’ but this time I mean it. @jostystyles inserted the idea of hockey pilots into my head and I immediately went insane and have been ever since. So, here we are, 10K words of filth later, and I’ve written it for Emmie’s 2.6k challenge! My song was “Bad Habit” by Steve Lacy. Side note: Definitely do not need to be a Top Gun fan to enjoy this!

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Threesome (MFM), alcohol use/mention, kind of a medium burn?, swearing, light objectification of reader, oral sex (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, choking, spitting, swallowing, light degradation/name calling, creampie, absolutely filthy dirty talk.

NHL Masterlist

Friday nights in San Diego aren’t quite as vibrant as in LA, or as posh as in NYC, but there certainly is no shortage of activity on a warm spring evening.

Confidence flows through you in waves, brewing from the moment you opened up your closet doors in search of the perfect bombshell outfit. A touch of makeup, a good push-up bra, and a few spritzes of your favorite perfume seal the deal. Simply put: you look good, and you know it.

After the week you’d had, it felt all too good to get dolled up and let loose, determined to unwind. In an ideal world, it’d be at the hands of a beefy naval officer, but you’d accept some free drinks, shitty pickup lines, and the black wand in your nightstand drawer if necessary. Of course, there was no better place to do that than the Hard Deck, crawling with fit naval officers and promises of a night spent horizontal.

Walking through the familiar, creaky wooden doors, you’re engulfed with the background buzz of a Bruce Springsteen song amid the loud chatter of a sea of aviators — a telltale sign of a Friday night in San Diego. The bar is crowded, but not so crowded that you can’t easily sneak through the throng of people, aiming for a section of the bar that looks somewhat less congested. Debauchery and the scent of hops floats through the air, raucous laughter echoing off of the nautical rope and netting hanging from the ceiling.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” a voice sounds from behind you, followed quickly by a low whistle. “God damn.”

You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Jost,” you greet as you turn, far more intrigued by the prospect than you are at getting a drink. If history is to repeat itself, you have a feeling there’ll be one in your hand sooner rather than later; after all, Tyson Jost is a creature of habit. Your eyes flash to the name on his crisp uniform, then glance up to meet his gaze. “Or should I say, Rainbow?”

“Whatever’s easiest to moan when I’ve got you spread out and cryin’ out beneath me.”

You can’t help the amused smile that forms on your face, almost taken aback by his forward nature. Almost, but not quite.

“Now, now, Rainbow, that’s no way to speak to a lady,” cuts in another deep voice behind him. Your eyes flick to the redhead who flanks his friend, thick auburn mustache resting above his lip. “Hiya, darlin’.”

“Nice to see you, Compher.”

“Pleasure’s always mine,” he replies, smugness oozing from his figure that leans lazily against the wooden beam beside him. His eyes trail shamelessly down your body, admiring the black satin of the lace corset you’re wearing, sheer in all the right places, no doubt admiring what it would look like without the skin-tight jeans you’re wearing.

Tyson scoffs. “You wouldn’t be calling her a lady if you heard the things she’s said to me.”

JT’s eyebrow raises quizzically. “You told me.”

“Kissing and telling, are we, Jost?”

Shrugging sheepishly, Tyson sends you an apologetic glance. “Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Considering you two share one single brain cell, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Can you blame me for telling him after last time?” presses the brunette, his tone in disbelief.

You hum, the memory of his lips on your skin and hot words whispered in your ear flashing through your mind, and you resist the urge to shiver. Let’s get weird. “With how good I am with my mouth, no, I can’t say I do.”

Your words take JT by surprise, who coughs mid-sip into his beer. His eyes glitter in your direction as he recovers, intrigued by your cheek. Blinking prettily, you hold his gaze for just long enough to see if he’ll squirm.

He doesn’t.

“Haven’t seen you here in awhile, sweetheart,” Tyson says, breaking both your eye contact with JT and the moment.

Your eyes flick to his brown ones, warm like cinnamon. Beside you, you can still feel the heat of JT’s eyes on you, burning against your body where you know his gaze is trailing. “I’ve been busy.”

He ignores your statement, pressing to continue, “S’like you knew we’d be here.”

“You’re always here, Jost.”

He hums, then gestures to you. “So you wore this on purpose, huh? Wanted to grab our attention with this skimpy little thing? You know how much I love you in lace.”

Shrugging, you cast a demure glance over your shoulder at him. “Had a bad week, wanted to find someone to relieve some stress.”

“You have my number, sweetheart,” Tyson winks. “You know I’ll always come when you call. No need to go through the effort to get all dolled up. Though, can’t say I’m complaining.”

It’s almost comical how obvious they’re being, the thinly-veiled puns and innuendos almost acting as foreplay for something you haven’t even agreed to yet. The confidence has always been part of what attracts you to them, their cockiness an unusually appealing trait — because you know that unlike others in their company, their big talk is warranted. And as much as you try to deny it, the confidence sets off the animalistic desire in you. Paired with your stressful week and the night’s unspoken mission to get railed within an inch of your life, you can’t help but feel that fate is intervening, placing two more than viable candidates right in front of you — almost too easy.

With another shrug, you smile back at Tyson. “I thought I’d see who the prospects were. You’re not the only one out there, Jost.”

“But I am the best one.”

“You sure about that?”

“Please,” Tyson scoffs, “take a look around this bar and tell me that any one of these plebeians is gonna show you a better time than me.”

“Who says I don’t want something different?” you ask, eyes flicking briefly to his comrade who definitely notices, smirking in response. Then, shifting the dynamic slightly, you say, “Maybe I want a challenge. Maybe you’re too easy.”

“Too easy? Between the two of us, I’m the one that’s too easy?”

You shrug, accepting what’s meant to be a lighthearted dig as a compliment. “We weren’t debating your preferences.”

JT’s voice cuts through the banter with a cheeky warning to his friend. “Play nice, Rainbow. Everybody knows it’s nice to share your toys.”

Tyson’s eyes find yours, glittering and velvety, a smirk forming on his face at the innuendo. You can’t help but notice the way your skin heats up at the words, a vague promise of what might come if you choose to accept their advances. He leans forward, close enough to have you catching a waft of his cologne, sandalwood and something else that’s equally intoxicating. He knows the game you’re playing, knows that it is just a game and that you’ll be slipping into his car without complaint before the night is over.

“You’re okay with him joining this time, aren’t you, sweetheart? You told me last time how cute you thought he was.”

“Think I used the word ‘smoke show’, actually,” you retort, letting your eyes trail over JT’s thick thighs. The consent is there, enthusiastic, the subtle invitation out in the open for anyone to take.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You mock offense, pressing a hand dramatically to your chest. “What kind of woman do you think I am? I’m not going anywhere with you until you buy me a drink like a proper gentleman. Then we can talk.”

“Okay, deal, a drink,” Tyson agrees, amused by your feigned modesty; you know that behind his light eyes he’s reflecting on his last interaction with you, which you recall was far from ladylike. “How about a round of darts? If we win, you come home with us. And if you win…”

“You make me breakfast in the morning,” you finish for him, a wicked smile on your face. There’s no need to place any bet; they know and you know that despite your ‘hard to get’ facade, you’re going home with them at the end of the night. But, you think to yourself, it doesn’t hurt to play the game, right? “I’m talking the works. Not boxed pancake mix and shitty orange juice.”

Tyson glances at his friend, their eyebrows raised at each other in a this is too good to be true shrug. “Deal. Your order, miss?”

“Cosmopolitan. With Grey Goose or Belvedere, Jost, don’t cheap out on me.”

Tyson nods curtly, making a beeline for the bar with his strict orders. In his absence, JT eyes you warmly over the rim of his beer as he takes a long swig, the amber liquid matching the shade of his mustache a little too perfectly.

“Come sit in my lap, darlin’,” he purrs, extending out a thigh from where he’s leaned back in the wooden chair, scraped from years of use.

You obey, unable to ignore the honey in his voice, slinking out of your seat and closing the small distance between you. His leg is warm against your already warm center as you perch on the firm muscle. An arm slips around your waist under the guise of holding you in place, but it lingers a little too low on your hips to believe it.

“You gonna come home with us tonight?” you feel the ghost of JT’s lips brush over your shoulder blade, feather light, the fringes of his mustache tickling your skin. “Know you know how to handle two at once, don’t you, pretty girl?”

Shifting against his leg, you adjust yourself to accommodate the throb that’s begun in your low abdomen, suddenly scorching hot and needy all over. The rise and fall of his chest behind you has you struggling to breathe, in combination with the way the heat from his hands has your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Have you ever… done… this before? With him?”

A soft chuckle, then a smooth exhale. It’s the first — and only — inkling he’ll get of any nerves, but he appreciates the small glimpse of the real you underneath your confident display. “Shared a girl?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Twice,” he admits. “But never with a girl like you.”

“Which is what, exactly, Tiger?”

He hums. “Different. Captivating.”

“Look at you, Mr. Big Shot who knows how to use a thesaurus.”

His chest rumbles with another chuckle, accepting your jab. It’s incredibly sexy, and, truly, captivating, just like he said, the way you match him step for step, sharp tongue quick to strike back. Instead of engaging in a battle of wits, though, he opts for a different approach.

“Can’t wait to see you all spread out in this lingerie for me,” his voice lowers to a velvety whisper in your ear. “Been dyin’ for a taste of you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

If you’re taken aback by his forward nature, you don’t show it. “You have, huh?”

“Mmhmm. Was so jealous when ‘Bow got to you first. Nearly fucked my fist raw when he told me about how tight you are.”

The crassness of his words have the pulse between your thighs roaring, aching almost uncomfortably at the promise of what’s to come. Around you, the other patrons continue chattering, laughing, bantering, completely oblivious to the filth emerging from the top-of-the-class Lieutenant’s mouth in the corner of the bar.

“I wish I knew you wanted me,” you murmur, soft, a sharp contrast to the scorching words you’d exchanged up til now.

“Y’never gave me the time of day, sweetheart.”

You hum quietly, ignoring the way your heart thuds in your throat as you approach unfamiliar territory with JT. He adds, “I always thought you were too good for me. You should’ve made a move.”

“You went off to Singapore.”

He’s quiet for a beat, pondering, or maybe reflecting on his deployment. “Hope you’re not just messing with me.”

At his admission, your confidence is at a high, so you mentally shrug and reply, “Feel between my thighs right now and find out if I am.”

Beneath you, JT shifts — in surprise, or in earnest, you aren’t sure. You hear the sharp intake of breath and the heavy pause as your words sink in.

“That an invitation?”

“Are you accepting?”

JT’s large hand nudges your jaw, turning your head to the side to face him. His eyes examine yours, searching for truth or teasing, ready to accept the latter but hoping it’s the former. “Without question, darlin’.”

For the first time, heat blooms in your cheeks at the sincerity of his words. Shyly, you cast your gaze down to avoid the intensity of his eyes.

“Y’feel how hard I already am for you?”

He grunts, followed by a deep chuckle when you shift again in his lap, very intentionally brushing your ass against his groin. And yes, you do feel how hard he is, can feel the way he throbs against the material of his uniform. Another shift of your hips grinds you against him, earning a rough squeeze of the side of your thigh.

“Bet you like takin’ it raw in that little cunt, don’t you? Yeah, I bet you do, little slut.”

You shudder, near ready for him to take you on the pool table just a few feet away. As you open your mouth to reply, maybe even suggest it, Tyson approaches. Smoothly, he sets your drink down on the table beside you, then pushes another beer toward his friend before raising his glass in a toast.

“To a night well spent.”

The three glasses clink loudly and there’s a pause as each of you sip your drink, completing the toast and, by extension, the oath that the night will, in fact, be well spent. The vodka burns your throat — Tyson did deliver on his promise with Grey Goose — and you feel the heat settle into your cheeks.

Licking his lips, Tyson’s eyes flick to JT with a nod. “You want to do the honors, Tiger?”

Slipping off of JT’s lap and feeling instantly cold from the lack of scorching heat, you step aside to let the redhead approach the board, gathering the darts in his hand. With a wink, he easily flicks his wrist, the movement comfortable from years of practice, landing directly in the center of the bullseye.

All of JT’s hit their mark, and while Tyson isn’t quite as successful, they’ve both made more than decent headway toward hitting zero.

Taking the handful of darts from Tyson’s extended hand, you approach the faded line of tape in front of the dart board. You can feel the heat of both of their eyes on your ass, surprised there isn’t drool dripping from each of their mouths. With a perfected pout, you glance over at the redhead, who isn’t quite as familiar with your antics as his curly-headed co-pilot. “Comphy, can you help me?”

A smirk tugs at Tyson’s lips, though he stays quiet as JT saunters up to you, all too eager to take a place behind you, pulling your hips against his own as he murmurs instructions on the proper stance. Naturally, you’re a little dramatic, pressing your ass into his hips a little more than you need to, but the hitch in his throat tells you he doesn’t mind.

“Keep your elbow still, like this, then hinge it to move your forearm,” instructs the redhead, hand pressed gently against your arm. “Release the dart when your wrist is about parallel with your elbow.”

“Like this?”

The expression on JT’s face is priceless when you hit a bullseye, turning to smirk at him.

Tyson guffaws on the barstool beside you, hooting as JT stares in surprise, returning to his beer to nurse his bruised ego.

“Didn’t your co-pilot tell you how he ended paying my tab and a round for the entire bar the first time we met? He tried to hustle me and lost a round of darts.”

“No, he failed to mention that,” JT says with a grimace.

Shrugging, Tyson sends an apologetic glance in JT’s direction, though all three of you know he isn’t really sorry.

Your next two throws are successful, right on JT’s heels in scoring. The round carries on, flirtatious despite the now competitive edge to the conversation.

The game slips by amid some chatter and a brief pause for JT to head to the bar for another round of drinks. No one else is even eyeing the dart board, so the three of you are leisurely in your pace, taking your time to soak in the Friday night feeling, enjoying yourselves even if nothing were to progress past casual conversation amongst friends.

‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ blares through the jukebox in the corner, AC/DC bellowing a harbinger to what is waiting for you after one of you strikes 0 on the scoresheet. Your hips shake to the beat, singing to Tyson and JT into your dart-turned-microphone. They watch you, amused, speechless for once as you perform an impromptu karaoke routine, sure to rub up against each of them albeit briefly.

With a saucy alcohol-infused wink, you line up to throw, the second cosmo causing your dart to hit slightly off your usual target. Your trail behind JT lengthens, but you only smile as you go to collect the darts before handing them off to Tyson.

His next turn puts you in last place, giving JT the opportunity to seal the deal and close out the game on his next turn. Twirling the stem of your drink, you watch as he lines up for his first shot, and you hum thoughtfully.

“What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Tyson asks, right on cue.

“Oh, just debating who I want in my throat first.”

JT launches into a choking fit, completely flubbing his toss, the dart landing solidly in the worn wood beside the board. He looks at you darkly, fully aware of your scheme, even more peeved that it worked. With a wink, you allow your eyes to trail blatantly to his groin, imagining all that lies beneath the tan uniform.

“And? What’s the verdict?”

With a smile, you take another sip of your drink. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

JT grimaces, disappointed, though he knew you wouldn’t divulge that information. Not here. Not yet.

Led Zeppelin’s riffs sound from the corner, Tyson eagerly finishing his swig of his drink to offer his hand as ‘Whole Lotta Love’ begins playing. You accept, and before you can process, he’s tugged you into his arms to dance, hands slowing the movement of your hips. To the outside world, it’s harmless, silly dancing fueled by alcohol and a favorite song, but you know better. The heat of his body melds into yours, thickening the already absurd tension in your corner of the bar.

Tyson twists you around so your back is to his front, pulling your hips back against him in a clear invitation to dance on him. Though still conscious that you’re in public, you do, a watered-down version of what you might do if you were back at his place in the privacy of his bedroom. JT’s attention to the board is shot, staring at the way your waist sways against his co-pilot.

Lips ghost over the skin of your shoulder, not kissing, but teasing, tickling your neck before his mouth lands behind your ear. He sings lowly to the song, accentuating in particular the line, ‘I’m gonna give you every inch of my love.’

Giggling, you push him off of you, though you’d be lying if it didn’t spark a fresh throb between your legs and send a wave of heat to your cheeks. JT’s still staring, eyes roving over the lace on your chest, like he suddenly forgot how to play darts.

Needless to say, he’s more than distracted when he takes his final shot, making your victory within arm’s reach.

“I like French toast,” you taunt. “With raspberries and powdered sugar. A Bellini would be nice, but I’d accept a mimosa, too. You got that?”

JT grumbles, returning to the board to hand you the darts. Your final three shots are enough to pass JT’s low score, solidifying both your lead and your win, and with a cheer, you grab your drink and down the rest in celebration.

“A well-deserved win,” JT congratulates you, impressed with your tongue and your skill with a dart, even despite the slight impairment from the alcohol. He raises his glass toward you in a mock salute before clinking it with Tyson’s.

Watching Tyson drain the remainder of his beer, licking the foam off of his upper lip, the air between you suddenly changes, the tension even thicker than it had been before. You swallow thickly, eyes locked with the rich chocolate of his. Anticipation hangs heavily between you, and the invisible surface groans under the weight that JT adds when he sets his drink down with a hopeful smile.

“You about done? Want another round, or want to go home?”

Tyson nods in your direction. “You make the call, sweetheart.”

Your lip slips between your teeth, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes slide from his to JT’s, then back to his. “Take me home, Tyson.”

The brunette nods, his eyes locking wordlessly with his friend.

“Meet you back at your place. M’gonna close our tab,” JT says, understanding Tyson’s glance.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he urges, slipping an arm around your waist as he maneuvers through the crowd.

Outside, without the noisy chatter of the bar, the reality of what will come in the next few hours sinks in. A beachy breeze passes as you step into the parking lot, and you shiver; from the wind, or from the whispered promises of two pilots, you aren’t sure.

“Are you good?” Tyson asks, pausing as you approach the teal blue Bronco, the color as boisterous as its owner. He’s sensed your nerves, mistaken them for hesitation. “We don’t have to… if you don’t want to.”

The warmth of his body against yours is comforting in more ways than one, cool air licking at your arms, and you blink shyly as you glance up at him. His eyes are amorous, looking deep into your own as he searches for a sign of doubt. He’s caught by surprise when you press up on your toes to place a heated kiss against his mouth, instantly igniting the scorching flame that’s been simmering between you all night. Tyson quickly recovers when both hands land on your hips, pulling you tightly against his body with a low sound, halfway between a growl and a moan.

You allow his tongue to flirt with your bottom lip, accepting his familiar taste, this time stained with a pilsner. Your heart beats heavily in your chest as you murmur, “I want to, Tyson.”

He hums against your lips with a wry smile. “Then get in that car so I can get you home and back into my bed.”

Reaching around you, Tyson opens the passenger door and extends his hand to help you step up into the lifted vehicle. Heat settles into your cheeks and between your legs when he slams the door beside you, jogging around to the front as he hauls himself into the driver’s seat.

“Are you good to drive?” you ask him, trying to remember how many drinks he’d had. You’d only had the two drinks, but the thrill and buzz of what lies ahead had you feeling all but drunk.

“All good, sweetheart,” he assures you with a smile. “Tiger and I both took it easy. Wanted to make sure we remember every single second of this.”

Nodding, you shiver at the implication, the anticipation once again settling further into your stomach as he pulls out of the parking lot.

The drive back to his place is familiar, as is his hand that rests on your thigh. Tyson interlaces his fingers with yours, a sweet gesture, when he walks you up the same stone path toward his house, tossing his keys in the same dish by the door. He’s not ceremonious, doesn’t need to be, when he tugs you into his lap after he plops down onto the blue couch in his living room, instantly attaching his lips to yours.

It doesn’t take long for your thighs to find his hips, straddling his lap as you allow the desire that’s been building inside of you all night to lead the way, reveling in the feel of his tongue against yours after so much time.

Tyson’s hands grip your hips, inhaling sharply against your lips. His mouth makes a wet path down your jaw, finding the place on your neck that makes your knees weak, the spot that hasn’t failed to get you naked in his bed during your last three run-ins with him. As he’s sucking a mark into the flesh, tongue hot against your skin, you hear the front door swing open along with the sound of JT’s voice announcing his arrival.

“Started without me, huh?”

“You were taking too long,” Tyson mumbles against your chest, mouthing at the lace hem of your corset along your breast.

JT grumbles, something like a, “bet you didn’t even try to wait,” as you hear him kick off his shoes, tossed carelessly against the hardwood floor. He’s not wrong, but you’re amused at the childish disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t pout, Tiger,” you say, eyes fluttering open to meet JT’s, boring into you. His presence ignites a flutter in your chest, the anticipation that’s been sitting between you all night ready to come to a head. “You want a taste?”

He smirks, nodding, and he steps closer, bending slightly from behind the couch to claim your mouth with his own. The kiss is otherworldly, wings beating in your chest, aided in part by the way that Tyson’s mouth attaches to your nipple. JT tastes of hops with a slight hint of cinnamon, and his lips are plump on your own, slotting perfectly against your mouth. It doesn’t take long for his large hands to find themselves on either side of your face, cupping your jaw posessively while his tongue slips past your lips.

With four large hands on you, you’re in heaven. The two of them massage and grope and squeeze your body, all of it drawing more and more heat between your thighs. You’re pleased to find that they’re both enjoying this as much as you when you place a hand on each of their groins, finding them both already hard and tenting the zipper of their uniforms. The action makes your mouth water, an impatient expectancy coursing through your veins.

It isn’t long before they’re maneuvering you, encouraging you to shift to your hands and knees on the couch. JT sits down beside you, and you glance up at him with wide eyes as your hand eagerly works his zipper down. The redhead aids your movements, lifting his hips and shimmying his jeans off before he helps you tug the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips. He’s beautiful, in every sense of the word, hard and leaking at the tip, and it’s all for you.

Timidly, you wrap your palm around him, hot and heavy in your hand as you stroke him slowly, acclimating to the feeling of him beneath your fingertips. His eyes are warm, watching you with a slow exhale, savoring finally having the feeling of your hands on him.

Tyson, on the other hand, has the zipper of your jeans undone, working the skin tight denim over the curve of your ass before tugging them down your legs. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he drags the material of your panties to the side, painfully slowly, probably to tease himself more than anything else.

“Shit,” he groans. “Almost forgot how pretty this little cunt is.”

“Did you forget how sweet it tastes?”

“Never,” he shoots back. “Go on, pretty girl, show him that thing you do with your tongue.”

You feel his hand trail up the ridges of your spine, and before you can process, your head is being pushed down onto JT’s cock. Despite the surprise, you still take him eagerly into your mouth.

He’s thick, pushing past your lips as your head bobs in a rhythm. Your tongue swirls around his head, teasing as you familiarize yourself with his size, and JT groans when you suck on just the tip. It’s a bit lewd, kneeling at his side while your entire sex is laid bare to Tyson, who’s kneeling behind you and kneading the supple flesh of your ass in his large hands. His mouth soon joins, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the insides of your thighs.

“Could eat this sweet pussy for days,” he mumbles against your skin.

You pull your mouth off of JT’s length for just long enough to quip, “You haven’t even eaten it yet,” before JT’s hand is pushing your head back down. “Didn’t tell you to stop, darlin’. Keep sucking.”

If it was any other man, you’d tell him off in an instant, but the redhead has you under a spell, eager to please and submit to his heady and libertine commands. Obedient, your mouth returns to his length, and you’re rewarded with the feeling of Tyson pressing his tongue flat against your core.

A muffled moan leaves your throat as he reacquaints himself with your pussy, his tongue delving into the depths, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lower lips. Your mouth matches his, doing your best to keep your practiced tongue in motion despite the pleasure that Tyson is working on your cunt.

“Think she likes your dick, Tiger,” Tyson hums against your core, pausing to sink a finger between your soaked folds, groaning at the way you squeeze just one thick digit. “She’s fucking dripping.”

To affirm his observation, you shake your hips and press your mouth further onto JT’s dick, lowering yourself until he’s brushing against the back of your throat with a groan. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling it out of your face so he can watch the way he disappears between your lips. Another time — maybe later tonight, for all you know — you’d like to truly dedicate yourself to worshipping him the way he deserves, intimately learning every single inch and curve of his cock, but you’re distracted when Tyson adds another finger to your aching hole, the stretch drawing a strangled moan against JT’s length.

“Jesus fuck,” JT grits out, head thrown back against the couch cushion. “M’gonna come if you keep doing that, darlin’.”

Fighting against the urge to collapse forward from the way Tyson’s fingers work your cunt, you press up to kiss JT, tongue tangling with his while your hand continues to stroke him attentively. Softly, you murmur against his lips, “Come in my mouth, J. Want to taste you.”

He groans at your request, hips tightening when your hot mouth resumes its sinful work. Tyson, too, is determined to push you over the cliff, his fingers pumping with vigor, aided by his wet tongue. Your own tongue swipes a few more times over the pulsing vein resting just beneath his head, warranting a long groan and a warm explosion against the back of your throat as JT hits his climax, a string of curses under his breath.

You’re rewarded for your work by Tyson pressing his digits deeper, hooking in just the right way to hit your g-spot, and soon you’re following JT into euphoric oblivion, crying out as you do your best to swallow the salty liquid in your mouth amid your orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” JT groans, watching the way your back inadvertently arches when you come.

“Taste so sweet, like always,” Tyson adds, further accentuating his point when he sticks his wet fingers in his mouth.

JT helps you to sit up, a dopey expression on your face as the dopamine settles into your body.

“Heard how good you were at that,” he winks. “Turns out my co-pilot was right about something for once.”

“You know I’d never lie about something like that,” Tyson says solemnly. It’s only then that you realize he’s still fully clothed, and as you wipe a remaining dribble of cum off of the side of your mouth, you desperately desire to change that.

“Are you gonna take me to bed, or what?”

Your sass earns an amused chuckle from JT, and a sadistic glitter shines in Tyson’s eye as he regards you. Somehow, you know he’s undressing you entirely with his eyes and is envisioning everything he’d like to do to you, and the thought makes your skin hot.

“You know the way, pretty girl,” he says, gesturing with his hands for you to lead the way. You can feel the heat from both of their eyes on you — more specifically, your ass — as you make your way up the stairs and into the door on the left.

The room is the same as the last time you were there, the cluttered desk on your left and dresser along the right wall, a photo of Tyson and JT framed on its surface. His bed is made for once, the knit blanket folded neatly on the end almost enough to make you wonder if a feminine presence had placed it there — if you didn’t know better.

There’s a brief pause, a beat of silence that’s pregnant with anticipation as you turn to the two of them. Your body is hot, has been hot from the moment they both greeted you at the bar, feeling the all-too-familiar throb between your legs that happens whenever the two of them are in proximity.

“Gotta get this off,” JT breaks the silence by stepping forward, reaching behind you to expertly unhook the clips of your corset, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor and leaving you completely bare in front of them. “Wanna see all of you.”

Heat rises into your cheeks as they both drag their eyes along your bare breasts and over the miles of skin you present for them. Tyson smirks, glancing at his friend who is all but mesmerized at the sight of your naked body.

“Told you,” he brags, matter-of-fact. “C’mon, princess, want you to ride me.”

Haphazardly, he tosses the pillows on the bed to the side so he can lay more comfortably on his back. Climbing onto the mattress, you move to straddle him, and his eyes glitter before he’s wagging his finger. “Face Tiger. Don’t want him to miss out on the fun, now, do we?”

Another wave of heat blooms in your cheeks at the sentiment, but you comply with the request, turning around and facing the redhead, who’s still watching you intently. Your legs settle around Tyson’s, sitting back against his erection and savoring the feeling of it pressed up against your ass. JT smirks, eyes trailing slowly down your naked body, unabashedly admiring your curves. Hungry eyes watch your hand grasp Tyson’s length and you shift backwards slightly to line his tip with your core.

Your mouth falls open as you press back onto his cock, eyes fluttering shut as it slips into you inch by inch. You hear JT hum lowly with appreciation when Tyson bottoms out, the neatly trimmed hair at the base of his pelvis tickling your lower lips.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Tyson rasps from behind you. A pleased smile curls upward on your face, his words encouraging you to move your legs to begin an upward rhythm.

JT’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, mesmerized by your pebbled nipples. His audience creates an additional stream of desire, tapping into your deepest, most vulgar fantasies of being manhandled, enjoyed in all of your beauty for two — or maybe more — lucky men.

Tyson’s hands move to grip your hips, aiding your movements as he watches you bounce on his lap.

“Jesus,” he groans. “This never gets old.”

Determined, you lean forward slightly to simultaneously create a tantalizing view for them each, your breasts pressed together and your ass on full display behind you. While confidence wasn’t always your forte, tonight, you’re glowing, the embers in your belly stoked by the heated coals in JT’s eyes and Tyson’s hands.

“Fuck yeah, baby, ride me,” Tyson mutters, the encouragement enough for you to begin rocking your hips. You begin a slow, hypnotizing rhythm that has Tyson all but salivating as he watches your pussy swallow him whole, engulfed by your tight heat all the while your ass bounces in mesmerizing jiggles.

JT, on the other hand, is enjoying the frontal view of you, watching the lust invade your eyes while your arousal is driven higher with each roll of your hips. He’s tempted to drink the moans that fall from your pretty lips, torn between wanting to stand back to admire the artwork in front of him, and wanting to join the creation himself.

Fortunately for him, it isn’t long before his co-pilot is thinking the same thing.

“Lean back, sweetheart,” Tyson commands you gently. “Let’s give him a better view, yeah?”

Tyson shifts underneath you, tugging you backwards so your back is resting against his chest. His knees beneath your thighs spread your legs wider in a very lewd display, earning a low whistle from the redhead in front of you. His eyes are glued to your center, watching the place where you and Tyson connect. Your cheeks burn, partially from the effort of riding him, but mostly from the heat in JT’s gaze.

“That cunt looks so good stuffed full like that,” he muses. “Can’t wait to put my cock in it.”

“She feels like fuckin’ heaven, Tiger.”

JT grunts, hand moving to leisurely stroke himself, hard again, as he watches his own personal porno unfold before his eyes. Your head spins from the influx of sensations and the heat on your skin, the hands on your waist and the fervor in JT’s eyes nearly enough to set you on fire. Slowly, Tyson punches his hips upward to continue fucking into you, the angle perfect for striking the hot spot deep within your core. You find yourself meeting each of Tyson’s thrusts, desperate for the release his steady rhythm promises.

“Hold still for me for a minute, darlin’,” JT instructs, and your hips falter under his command, pussy fluttering dreamily around Tyson’s length. When JT leans forward to flatten his tongue against your clit, you let out a wail.

Distinctly, you see him spit on the place where your body connects to Tyson’s, and you moan when you feel the saliva sliding over your lips, coating Tyson’s dick. Beneath you, you feel Tyson begin to pump his hips again, pushing back into you while JT watches the two wet liquids combine into a frothy mixture swallowed greedily by your pussy.

“Tiger — JT, please —”

“You want my tongue back on that clit, pretty girl?”

You nod with a whine as Tyson presses into you with a deep thrust, bottoming out with a groan. He continues his movements, steady, while JT adjusts himself between your legs. He spits again, aiding the already absurd slickness, before his tongue flicks your clit.

“Fuck,” you cry out, the sensation of Tyson inside you paired with JT’s wet tongue almost too much to bear — no vibrator could replicate this feeling. “God, don’t stop.”

“Not God, sweetheart, just Tiger,” he winks at you before his tongue is back on you.

“Shit, keep doing that, Tiger,” Tyson groans beneath you, hands gripping tightly onto your hips. “She’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.”

“Yeah? You gonna come with Rainbow’s cock inside you and my tongue on this pretty little clit?” JT asks, attention toward you. You’re a sight to behold, he thinks, with your thighs spread and wet pussy swallowing his best friend’s dick, swollen clit dripping with his saliva.

“Yes, please — please —”

“The lady gets what the lady wants,” he complies, pressing his tongue against you once again. He’s skilled, flicking and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure in tandem with the push of Tyson’s hips, and you come with a resounding cry. Your head falls back as Tyson groans beneath you, holding your waist steady while JT coaxes you through the waves of your orgasm with his tongue.

Dreamily, you blink in your coital haze, unable to stop the movement of your hips, chasing the feeling even as the euphoria slips away almost as quickly as it came.

“Jesus, m’gonna come,” Tyson announces.

“Come inside me, Tyson,” you call with a moan, willing your body to prolong the blissful elation. He feels so good, thrusting beneath you, aided by the slick from your own orgasm. “Please, want you to come.”

JT curses lowly as Tyson lets out a guttural groan when he reaches his own climax, hips stuttering once he’s pressed deep inside you. The warmth of his release splutters against your walls, filling you and earning a soft moan from your lips.

Once Tyson’s caught his breath, his hands grip your hips to gently lift you off of him. Instantly, you can feel a warm glob of cum slipping out of your used cunt, dripping back onto his still-hard dick.

“God fucking damn, what a fucking sight,” JT whistles, squeezing his dick in his palm.

As Tyson shifts out from beneath you, he gently helps you to your back and you sigh contentedly. Your eyes flick to JT’s dick, bobbing freely, and you feel another throb between your thighs, your pussy not ready to be done yet. With a smirk, you spread your legs in a silent invitation.

“Want more already?” he asks, eyes catching your line of sight. His lips curl up into a smirk that matches yours perfectly. “Greedy little whore.”

“You gonna fuck me like one or what?”

The redhead growls at your snark, his big hands gripping your sides to tug you roughly toward the edge of the bed. It’s a display of his physical strength, the military training making it all too easy to manhandle you in a way that has you stifling a moan. With one hand, he holds your thigh open while his other presses the tip of his dick against your opening, collecting all of Tyson’s remaining cum before nudging it back toward your aching hole.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” he mutters, smearing the liquid over your swollen, already sopping lips. His actions earn a fresh flood of wetness to the exact spot where his dick is caressing, and you preen with desire. Beside him, Tyson’s got a hand wrapped around his own dick that’s twitching with interest again at the sight of his own creation, dribbling between your thighs and catching on the head of his best friend’s cock.

JT teases you, prodding gently at your entrance, barely nudging past your folds even as you arch your back to draw him in. You whine, frustrated, glaring at the way he smirks, refusing to give in to what you want.

“You gonna ask nicely, darlin’?”

“Please, JT, want you to fuck me,” you say sweetly, shifting immediately and batting your lashes. “Want that big cock to fill me up.”

He smirks, enjoying the way you stroke his ego and allowing himself to indulge, listening to your agitated whimpers as he continues to prod at your clit. You watch his eyes drop between your legs again, moving his tip to push the latest bit of cum drooling out of your hole. “All this cum won’t stay in this slutty little cunt. Guess I should help push it back in where it belongs, huh?”

Beside you, Tyson nods hungrily and JT hums briefly, barely allowing you the moment to process before he’s pushing into your tight heat. Your head falls back in relief, quickly drawing a moan from you once JT’s snug inside you.

“Even better than I imagined,” he grunts out through a grimace. “Fuck, you feel good, darlin’.”

“Move, JT,” you sigh, then open your eyes to smile sweetly at him. “Please.”

Tyson chuckles. “So polite.”

“You’re lucky I’m dying to fuck this pussy or else I’d be making you beg for me for hours.”

“Guess it’ll have to wait til next time,” you quip back, closing your knees on his hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Not even done and already talking about next time? Greedy girl,” Tyson chirps.

“If you could feel how hard Comphy is inside of me you’d be confident there’ll be a next time too.”

In response to your snark, JT punches his hips forward forcefully, any remaining sass exiting your mouth in a moan. He’s quick to find a brutish rhythm, gripping onto your thighs tightly while his eyes bore into yours. The furious pace is enough to render you speechless, your mouth hanging open as you’re unable to do anything other than take what he’s giving you.

You catch Tyson’s eyes, warm brown of his irises nearly swallowed whole with his lust-blown pupils. His lower lip, now a flushed pink, is tucked between his teeth.

“Do I look good getting fucked like this, T?” you breathe, watching the way his eyes zone in on the way your breasts bounce with each determined thrust.

“Fuck yeah you do, baby,” he groans, stroking himself leisurely. “Look so good takin’ dick like that.”

JT’s hand floats over your collarbone, grabbing your breast and kneading the supple flesh. “Perfect tits you have.”

“Taste good, too,” you shoot back, craning your neck to look back at Tyson expectantly.

He doesn’t need more encouragement than a quirk of your eyebrow to shift so he can scoot closer and wrap his lips around one of your nipples. You moan as he sucks, the additional stimulation driving you wildly close to your third orgasm of the night as JT holds onto his steady pace.

“JT — fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna come.”

A smirk blooms beneath the thick mustache, amusement written on his handsome face. “Already? Barely fucked you yet, darlin’.”

“Thought you said you were gonna spoil me.”

Tyson glances up at you from his perch at your chest before reaching around your body, hand gliding over your hip to press his finger against your clit. A loud moan sounds from your throat as he circles it teasingly, returning his mouth to continue his work on your breast.

“You want to come?” he breathes.

Before you can even get words out, you’re nodding, tears pricking in your eyes from the buildup of your release. You’re desperate for it, only able to beg. “Please — please.”

“Come, baby,” Tyson murmurs against your chest. “Come all over his cock for me.”

His words are the catalyst for your climax, his permission all you need to let go of the band held tight in your belly. Pleasure shoots through you as your head falls back with a cry. Distantly, through the haze, you can hear a low groan — whether it belongs to JT or Tyson, you aren’t sure. The orgasm pulses through you, even as Tyson removes the pressure of his finger from your clit.

The two pilots admire the sight of you, sprawled on the bed and looking beautifully and thoroughly fucked. Your skin is glowing, hair tousled in that perfect bed head, your eyes lustful as you catch your breath. Groaning softly when JT pulls out, missing him instantly, your eyes close while your heart thumps inside your chest.

Your eyes open when you feel JT nudge the tip of his dick against your face with a cheeky grin. “Gotta clean this up, now, since you made a mess all over it.”

It’s meant to be in jest, a jab at you for your quick reload, but you know he’s more than pleased with himself for making you come so quickly. Biting your lip, you ignore the way your legs shake and move to kneel on the floor in front of him. You allow yourself a moment to admire his dick, glistening with the mixture of yours and Tyson’s cum, and Tyson chuckles beside you. “She’s lookin’ at you like you’re her last meal, man.”

JT responds by carding his fingers through your hair, resting his hand on the back of your head, not pushing, but enough pressure to encourage you to take him into your mouth. With a show, you lick a long stripe up from the base of his dick, collecting some of the cum coating his dick. Tyson whistles when you turn to show him the mixture melting on your tongue before swallowing fully with a moan.

“Yeah? You and me taste pretty good together, don’t we, sweetheart?”

“Why don’t you try for yourself?” you ask, repeating the action to collect another mouthful of cum.

Tyson hums, gripping your jaw to pull your mouth to his, tongue immediately delving between your lips. He groans at the taste, the mixture tangy on his tastebuds, eager for more as he deepens the kiss. Blindly, you reach your hand for JT’s dick, wrapping your fist around it and giving him a stroke while Tyson’s tongue explores your mouth.

“Your hand is nice, but I’m feeling a little deprived here, darlin’,” JT husks beside you. An impatient quip bubbles up in your throat, but Tyson’s mouth is far too tempting to bother. Finally, you tear yourself away from him with one last apologetic kiss and return to your original position in front of JT, looking up at him with your biggest doe eyes.

“What a fuckin’ sight,” he muses, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Always imagined having you on your knees for me.”

“And what is it that I do on my knees for you in your imagination, baby?”

His hand returns to the back of your head with a smirk, inching your mouth onto his dick. “Somethin’ just like that.”

Words are no longer necessary as your mouth envelops him. Your tongue runs alongside his shaft, lips wrapped tightly around him while you focus on his head. Now, you think, is your opportunity to blow his mind — literally — and you decide to take advantage of the time and study each inch of him.

So you do, dragging your tongue down his length, pressing your lips against his hard flesh, savoring the weight of him in your mouth. You explore the sensitive spots, noting which ones make him grunt and twitch in your mouth, throbbing against your tongue. He groans loudly, accompanied by sharp curses from Tyson, when your mouth trails to the base of his dick, dropping to tenderly kiss and lick at his balls. You’d do this for hours, if you could.

“Darlin’, as — fuck — insanely wonderful as you are with that mouth, y’gotta stop. Gotta be inside you.” His voice is deeper, raspy, his pupils blown as he gazes down at you, lips flushed from tucking them between his teeth.

You smile at him, smug, and send a wink to Tyson, who was enjoying your performance almost as much as his copilot. JT’s large hand reaches for yours to help you up to your feet, and you move to lay back on the bed. He watches, hand stroking himself, aided by your saliva.

“Can you flip over for me, sweetheart? Want to watch this ass bounce on my cock.”

Obediently, you shift to your hands and knees, arching your back in a way you know he’d like. It doesn’t take long for him to line back up with your slit, pushing into you again with a grunt.

“So fuckin’ tight, Bow was right.”

Tyson, taking his cue, smirks down at you, enjoying the blissful expression on your face as you’re stretched around JT’s dick. You feel the curl of his fingers wrap around your jaw and he lowers his voice. “You like that, sweetheart? You like takin’ his dick, huh?”

“Y- yes —” you wail, stuttering when JT delivers a particularly hard thrust.

“Yeah? Knew you would, little slut,” he coos. His gaze is hot, eyes ablaze while he licks his lips. You whimper when his thumb trails over your lip, swollen from the kisses and the dicks pushed between them.

Another whimper leaves your throat when he pushes your head back slightly so that he can spit into your open mouth. It’s warm on your tongue that you stick out to show him, his eyes watching it slide down your throat. JT groans behind you, fingers gripping tightly onto your hips as Tyson leans forward to kiss you again. His tongue is hot against yours, probing your mouth while he pulls the moans from your throat.

“Bet you fuckin’ love being between two big dicks, don’t you?” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips.

Your response is a whimper, all words completely void in your mind.

“So brain dead for dick she can’t even talk,” JT teases. Again, meant to be a jab, but honestly, he isn’t wrong.

“Yeah? You like being a pretty little slut, taking both of these cocks, don’t you? Spreadin’ these gorgeous legs for us two pilots?”

Tyson’s words are honeyed, sweet, but the way his hand shifts to wrap around your throat as he reclaims your mouth is anything but. The wet sound of Tyson’s tongue in your mouth is overpowered by the slap of JT’s hips against your ass, clapping rhythmically with his powerful thrusts. You already know you’re going to be aching tomorrow, body nearly pushed to the limit of pleasure.

“You ready for another one, sweetheart?” Tyson asks, standing up and wrapping a hand around himself.

Biting your lip, you nod, looking at him desperately. You don’t know if it’s the way JT’s fucking you, or your inhibitions flying out the window, or maybe you really are just a whore, but suddenly you’re desperate to feel him in your mouth.

Tyson shifts onto his knees in front of you, gently slapping your face with his erection, drawing another moan when JT slows his thrusts down to allow you to enjoy the moment. Your eyes look up into Tyson’s, who’s looking down at you like he might eat you alive, and he grunts when your tongue darts out to flick the tip of his dick.

“Open wide, darlin’,” JT coos behind you.

When you reflect on the night later on, you’ll wonder if they really had studied telepathy or if they were just that in sync with each other from years of drills and missions together. Either way, they’re able to read the other’s eyes with ease, anticipating the other’s next step every time. Seamlessly, Tyson follows his cue, pressing his hips forward until your mouth is full and you’re gagging. He takes his time, building up his pace slowly, until the two of them are thrusting in tandem, making you a literal human spit roast, but you don’t mind in the slightest. You feel so full, so complete with both of them in you, and it’s a sensation you’ve never experienced before. The sound of your slick blurs with the wet sound from your mouth, and you lose yourself in the filthy symphony that fills the room.

It certainly wasn’t what you had in mind when you stepped into the Hard Deck, but with pleasure radiating through your entire body, every nerve and cell in your body buzzing with heat, you can’t bring yourself to complain.

A slight shift of JT’s hips have you pulling your mouth off of Tyson’s dick to moan loudly, your eyes shutting in a moment of pure bliss.

“Fuck, Tiger, right there,” you breathe, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the base of Tyson’s cock to allow yourself a brief reprieve from his onslaught of your throat.

“Ah ah,” JT tsks from behind you, pausing the movement of his hips. You whine, and he slaps your ass in punishment. “I know it feels good, baby, but you gotta keep sucking him, or else you don’t get to come again, okay? If you stop, I stop.”

Your cheeks burn as you glance up at Tyson, who’s smirking far too smugly for your liking. With a motion of his hand, pointing lazily at his own dick, you debate if you should dish out some attitude. But then your pussy throbs around JT, desperate for a release, for him to keep striking the perfect spot deep in your core, and you have no choice. Instead, you opt to roll your eyes, opening your mouth to take Tyson’s length between your lips again.

“Good girl,” comes the praise from JT, along with another slap of his hand against your ass, this time a reward. “Know you like having that cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

Tyson doesn’t allow you the chance to answer, instead pushing his hips forward to render you effectively speechless, gagging on the dick he’s pressed into your throat. He knows you do, though, by the way you eagerly hinge your jaw to accommodate, blinking away the tears at the blunt intrusion. You can’t help your earnest, hungrily sucking on the smooth skin, tongue admiring the firm appendage.

“Make him come with that hot little mouth of yours, darlin’,” is JT’s command, voice ragged at the way you feel around him.

In any other situation, you’d bring a hand up to aid your movements, stroking in unison with your mouth, driving him to insanity. But with the rough way JT is pounding into you, your body can’t hold itself upright on just one arm, so instead you open your mouth wider, jaw aching, with a glance up at Tyson. He takes the hint, pressing a hand to the back of your head as he fucks your mouth, thrusting roughly into your throat the same way he did to your pussy earlier.

Your vision blurs with tears, breathing as steadily as you can to avoid gagging. Soon Tyson’s hand is gripping tightly onto your hair as his hips still with a groan, your lips pressed snugly against the base of his pelvis while he spills into your throat. It’s all you can do not to cough, tears spilling down your cheeks from the effort. Tyson pauses, holding himself in your throat while JT continues to thrust, and it’s the last inch of movement that has you gagging, causing a stream of cum and saliva to spill out of the sides of your mouth. You’re a mess, but you know Tyson wants you like that.

When he finally pulls out, you gasp for air, and Tyson smirks. “God, you look so pretty like this, baby. Turn around and show Tiger.”

Instead of turning, though, JT simply tugs on your hair and pulls you backward, twisting your head with his free hand to kiss you, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

He hums, licking his lips at the taste of your saliva and Tyson’s cum. “Gorgeous.”

JT releases you, and you fall forward onto your hands again, bracing yourself against his brutal pace. Tyson catches his best friend’s eye, a silent message sent between the two of them.

“You gonna flood that tight little cunt, Comph?”

He grunts in response, and you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, JT, come in me.”

He responds by gripping your hips tighter, his other hand reaching to press your neck down into the mattress as he adjusts to drape himself over your back, his hips pumping at an even deeper angle that has you moaning. His breath is hot in your ear, panting, and you hear him whisper, “Fuckin’ come for me, sweetheart. Want you to cream all over my cock like a good little whore. Gonna fill up this tight little cunt with my cum. Yeah? Would you like that, baby? Gonna make you fuckin’ mine.”

All you can do is whimper, his filthy monologue filling your brain while the force of his thrusts destroy all other thought. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed in you, the sound of his hips slapping crudely against your ass.

“J —” is all that leaves your throat, a hoarse whisper before you’re forced to succumb to what has got to be one of the most powerful orgasms of your life. Your limbs go rigid, the force of the release paralyzing you as it rips through your body.

JT’s hips stutter like he’d barely been hanging on, coming with a shout, pausing deep inside of you. You swear you can feel his cum hitting your insides, warm as it spills into your waiting and eager womb. He’s throbbing against your walls, near enough to send you spiraling into another final euphoric release.

Panting, he slumps against you, and Tyson chuckles observing the scene. Distantly, somewhere miles away, you hear the sound of feet padding on the hardwood floor, the feeling of being alone with JT registering vaguely in your brain. Your body buzzes, vibrating all the way down to your toes.

“Feeling less stressed now, sweetheart?”

Wincing slightly when JT finally sits up and pulls out of you, you nod blissfully. Your eyes are still closed, brain fuzzy as you process his question. “Yup.”

“Told you we’d show you a good time.” Tyson’s voice. Briefly, you wonder if you imagined him leaving the room or if he’d just returned that quickly.

“Never doubted you for… a second,” you say, breathless, rolling over with great effort once JT gently taps your hip.

“Tyson drew you a bubble bath, so I’m gonna help you, okay?” he asks. You open your eyes, vision still slightly blurred, to meet his own. All of the previous lust and heat in them has been completely replaced with care and a rich, warm russet.

“Wh —?”

“He got it going while we were… recovering.” He chuckles, amused at his own choice of words.

“W — why?”

“Darlin’, as incredibly sexy and hot as all of that —” he nods toward the bed, “— was, we definitely used this gorgeous body for all it’s worth, and you need to rest. You’re going to be sore.”

Oh.

Tyson laughs when you mutter, “Worth it,” against JT’s shoulder when he tucks you into his arms, picking you up. He’s warm and sturdy against you as he carries you to the bathroom, setting you gently into the tub that’s filled with warm, bubbly water and —

“Is that lavender?” you ask, the scent taking a moment to register. “Are you serious, Jost?”

JT snorts, laughing that your first real sentence is a jab at Tyson.

“Essential oils are a godsend when I have a hard time sleeping,” he shrugs from his post leaned against the doorframe.

You hum, only then realizing as the water soothes your muscles that JT was unfortunately right and that you are, in fact, already sore. The redhead takes your hand delicately in his own, pulling it toward him to press a kiss against your knuckles in a simple gesture that you’re ashamed to admit has your heart melting. “Rest. We’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?”

Tyson offers a smile and a nod before he turns away to head back into his bedroom, mumbling something about finding pajamas. JT stands up with a grunt, placing a lit candle on the edge of the tub by your feet before he, too, turns to leave.

“JT —”

He turns back, holding your gaze, and you try to say everything in your head without saying any words, unable to form a coherent thought even if you wanted to.

“I know, darlin’. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Your heart flutters at the thought, and you smile and nod, whispering, “Okay.”

Returning the smile, he goes to close the door, pausing just before he does. With one more glance at you, he adds, “After your homemade french toast.”

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