Fic: Sweat For Me
E-mail: violet147@yahoo.com
Rating: Definitely R. Maybe NC-17.
Warnings: Slight threesome, with lots of boy on boy. Hurrah.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Pairings: Bobby/Marie/John
Summary: "Being satisfaction for a kink has never been so good."


“John!”

“What’s going on-“

“SHUT THE DOOR!” Marie’s voice is high and panicked, and before John can even react, she throws one of her boots at him. “SHUT THE DOOR, JOHNNY!”

The boot makes a swoosh sound as it sails right into his ear and John quickly reaches around and shuts the door. “Jesus, fuck,” he curses, and he glares over at Bobby. “I thought I told you to keep her AWAY from basketball players and martial artists and shit,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” Bobby asks, and his eyes are so wide John can’t stop himself from laughing at him.

“I was coming by to see what you guys were up to.” He looks at Bobby, and says, “I see what HE’S up to…” Bobby glares at him, and John gives him a sweet, innocent smile. He looks over at Marie, and the smirk on his face is so wide, it’ll probably end up breaking his face. “But what the hell are YOU doing?” he asks.

“None of your business!” Bobby snaps.

“Bobby.” Marie’s voice is very soft and almost chiding, as she looks from him to John, and she smiles at John. “Would you like me to show you what I was doing?” she asks very sweetly.

John can sense that he’s being pulled into a trap, but she has such a sweet smile on her face, and he hasn’t been able to say no to her since she got here. He hasn’t been able to say, “No, Marie, I’m not going to give you my fries.” Or “No, Marie, I’m not switching the dishes duty with you.” or even “No, Marie, I will not stroke your ego by saying your ass is definitely not as big as Jubilee’s.” Also, Bobby’s looking absolutely mortified at the moment, and there’s no way he can say no to THAT.

“Sure,” he answers.

Marie smiles as Bobby puts his head in his hands, and she gestures for John to sit next to Bobby on the bed. “Get as comfortable as you like,” she tells him, winking at Bobby.

“Um. Did I miss something?” John asks, looking at the both of them.

Marie, who’s turned around, gives John a smile over her shoulder, and walks over to Bobby’s CD player, leaning over a bit as she goes through Bobby’s CD case. John is not ashamed to say that he is blatantly checking her out, admiring the way her halter clings to her and the ties curve up around her neck, the blue sticking out against the paleness of her skin. John has never seen her this bare; he’s learned to appreciate her arms, since that’s all he ever sees.

So this is nice. Strange, but nice. He leans back against the wall, letting his feet dangle off the bed. He looks over at Bobby, who’s still got his hands over his face, then looks at Marie, who’s putting a CD in. “I didn’t walk in on some kinky sex game, did I?” he asks. He leans forward and starts looking around the room, searching for clues. “I better not be sitting on latex or some shit,” he informs them.

“John.” Marie is suddenly standing above him, smiling. “Shut the hell up,” she orders, pushing him back against the wall.

John doesn’t say anything else as a distinct, loud beat starts to fill the room. He looks over at Bobby, and the disdain in his voice is quite apparent. “What the fuck is this?” he asks.

“It’s Ludacris. Southern Hospitality,” Bobby answers.

“I KNOW what it’s called. WHY are we listening to this?” John asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste because. Rap music? So not John’s forte.

“Shut up,” both Bobby and Marie say at the same time.

“Shut up, shut up,” John mouths to himself, then rolls his eyes upward. When they return to their normal state, his mouth ends up falling open because, holy shit, Marie’s hips are moving with the music. He’s never seen her like this; he’s certainly never been able to see the outline of her hipbones like he can now, jutting up from beneath the material of her skirt. He vaguely feels Bobby leaning over and closing his mouth, but he cannot manage to make himself care when there is a hot, untouchable girl in front of him, swaying her hips as if she COULD be touched.

She looks over at Bobby as she rolls her hips in a small circle, popping her shoulders back, making her breasts more…there. Her eyes never leave his as her hands run along her thighs, her mouth open just slightly. John looks over at Bobby and sees the desire dancing in his eyes, sees it slide down Bobby’s throat as he swallows down a lump, sees it in Bobby’s fists as he twists at the end of his shirt. It is then John realizes that this is not new, that this is familiar for them. This is their game.

Suddenly those eyes, dark as chocolate and just as inviting, are upon him, and he realizes that not only is it their game, but they have decided to let it become his as well. His eyes trail the length of her body, slowly, and she grins at him, like she can feel the heat on every inch his eyes stare upon. Her arms raise above her head and she rolls her upper torso, closing her eyes, savoring the moment. John looks over at Bobby, who gives him a short, anxious look, then returns his gaze back to Marie. Sigh. Figures.

But John’s not complaining; he can appreciate having a beautiful girl gyrating right in front of him, for him. Well, for Bobby, he’s just there to satisfy a kink or something, but that’s not the point. He looks over at Bobby again, knows he probably shouldn’t but it’s instinct, and this time he notices the sideways glance Bobby’s giving him, like he’s trying to pay attention to Marie, but can’t help looking at John as well. Both John and Marie see it, and while John says nothing, Marie does. “Go on,” she tells Bobby, running her fingers through her hair and rolling her hips.

“Wha-“ John doesn’t even get the word out before Bobby grabs him by the hair and kisses him hard and dangerously. Dangerous because John knows if the kiss lasts long enough, he’ll cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed. But he doesn’t think about it for long; it’s kind of hard to think when you’ve got a pair of icy, firm lips devouring your own. Most people would probably freak out over how cold Bobby’s lips are, but John likes it, how it cools the fire in his own lips. He lets Bobby run his hands through his hair and grabs Bobby by his neck, kissing back just as hard, fighting with Bobby’s tongue just as quickly.

Being satisfaction for a kink has never been so good.

Eventually he has to pull back, and when he does, he feels like he’s coming up out of the water, he’s gasping so hard. He looks at Bobby, who’s staring at John with such lust, who cares who it’s actually for, because John’s hard as fuck. He then looks over at Marie, who’s got a glazed smile on her face and a dreamy look in her eyes, and she twirls around, turning her back on them and shaking her hips a la Shakira.

Her skirt rides up a bit, and the backs of her thighs are white, like lilies, and John can faintly discern the start of the curve of her ass. The thought of taking action, like lifting her skirt up and running either his tongue or fingers or both along the flesh, dies as she looks at him over her shoulder. She nods her head toward Bobby. “Don’t stop,” she orders.

And on that note, John is suddenly devoured with Bobby turning him onto his side and pressing himself against John, wrapping his leg around John’s waist, trapping him. They’re kissing like they’ll die if they pull away. Bobby’s hips thrust into his in a pattern, pushing in when Bobby’s lips go slack under the weight of John’s, and oh yeah, this is good. They keep opening their eyes periodically, looking over at Marie, watching her as if she is the fuel to their fire. Then it’s back to eyes shut and kissing and rubbing and moaning. For a few moments it’s rinse, repeat, rinse repeat. John doesn’t like routine, but right now, he doesn’t think routine has ever felt so fine.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches Marie. He suspects that even if they were not here, she would still shake her hips from side to side, run her hands along her stomach, roll her neck and let out a deep sigh as her hair falls in her face, like she is now. He’s not so sure about whether or not he and Bobby would be doing this if she weren’t here, but it doesn’t matter, especially since Bobby’s hands are undoing his jeans, fumbling at the zipper. He can’t get a grip on it. What a retard.

“Bobby.” Both of them look up at her, and she’s right next to the bed, shaking her head. She’s still dancing to the beat, her hips rolling and her head bobbing, even as she leans over and. John holds his breath as Marie’s hand floats above his crotch, and he swears he’s going to come as he looks upon her, biting her lip and her eyes narrowing. Her hand lightly brushes across the fabric, and it’s enough to make his hips buck forward. Fuck.

Marie just laughs, and she starts to rub the fabric, each swipe of her hand becoming harder, just like John. His head falls back as he moans, and Bobby starts to bite at his neck, biting to the point of pain, but then he blows on the wound, and it cools the sting. It just. Fuck. John sounds like such a fucking slut right now, but he can’t care, not when it’s like this.

He hears the sound of a zipper, undone, then there’s a brief bit of air. He opens his eyes and sees Marie’s no longer leaning across the bed, but has her hands in her hair as she moves her hips in such a manner that John can only say it looks like she’s fucking an invisible person. He looks down and sees Bobby’s hands in his pants, slightly tugging at the waistband of his boxers, and-

Then John starts to see stars, and he feels heat he knows he himself could never create. His head hits the wall but he doesn’t care, for he doesn’t stop moaning, and neither does Bobby, who doesn’t remove his hand from John’s pants or stop flicking his wrist. He hears Marie let out a deep, content sigh, and he looks up at her. She’s smiling like she’s high. “You know what to do, right, Bobby?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Bobby answers, low and guttural, closing his eyes and letting out a moan that could rival the pitch of John’s. His hand speeds up as he licks John’s neck up and down, and he opens his eyes and gives Marie a smile, a feral, sadistic smile. “I know just what to do,” he adds.

“What-“ John starts to ask, but Marie twirls, and when she’s facing them again, she crawls onto the bed, crawling up to John like a cat, all sinewy limbs and Cheshire grin. She sits on her knees, and leans in just enough so her skin feels like a phantom above his. She looks over at Bobby, and they share a smile. Both lean forward and blow into John’s ears, and the shiver runs so deep throughout John, he almost breaks the bed in half.

“It won’t be so bad, Johnny,” she tells him. She’s still dancing, even as she sits on her knees. “He’s going to make you sweat for me.”

She turns and crawls off the bed, and John can’t even stare at her ass, he’s so wrapped up in Bobby. Or is it the other way around? It doesn’t matter. Bobby is trying to slide John’s pants off his hips, and John’s just lying there, like a moron. Once he finally realizes the objective, he immediately lifts his hips, into Bobby’s, oh how convenient, and his pants are now at his ankles. Fantastic.

About the only thing John can think of is how Bobby is absolutely awesome at giving hand jobs. Apparently he’s not the only who thinks so; he opens his eyes as he hears Marie gasp, and she’s staring at them with half-shut eyes and her mouth hanging open. “Keep going,” she tells them, almost breathless.

The pace of Bobby’s hand quickens and John would be flat on his back, if it weren’t for Bobby holding him up with the hand that’s NOT on John’s cock. “Jesus Christ,” he can’t help but saying, hissing as Bobby runs his thumb over the head. It’s so fucking cliché, but it’s doing more than the job, it’s indescribable. John looks at Marie, who’s dancing harder, faster, with her hands pressing deep into her flesh as she touches herself, and this is just so surreal. John cannot believe this is happening.

“How does he feel?” Marie asks. She sounds like she’s been running a marathon, but John knows the difference between being breathless due to physical labor and being breathless due to erotic imagery.

“So good,” Bobby pants out, and Marie lets out a soft, barely audible moan. Jesus CHRIST, John’s seriously going to die. He’s going to come soon, and it’s going to be so messy. It’ll probably end up all over Bobby’s nice new turtleneck. He’s not sure why he’s so concerned about Bobby’s turtleneck at the moment. He just hopes that if he keeps thinking about making a mess of Bobby’s new expensive turtleneck, he WON’T end up making a mess of it.

Apparently Bobby has other ideas, from the way he’s kissing John and stroking John and moaning in John’s ear. John tears his lips away from Bobby and announces, “FUCK,” in a loud, unabashed groan. He sounds like a smoker, he’s breathing so heavy, but so is Bobby, and so is Marie, so he’s not alone here. John knows he’s about to come, that he’s about a minute away from it, maybe. So he looks over at Marie, and they lock eyes. She knows, too. She licks her lips, and puts her hands on her thighs, pushes her legs far apart, lets her fingers slide up farther, up onto her panties, and lets out a breathless groan to shatter all breathless groans.

And that, as they say, is all she wrote, because John’s coming with a visible shudder and a cry on his lips. He ends up leaning on Bobby, who’s just smiling down at him, holding him as if he were a baby. He waits a moment for his heartbeat to return to normal, takes a few stabilizing breaths, eyes shut and hands clutching Bobby. He still cannot believe this has actually happened. He cannot believe he is still breathing. He opens his eyes, and he cannot believe that there isn’t anything on Bobby’s turtleneck.

Finally, when he thinks he’s okay to continue functioning, he looks up at Bobby and returns his smile. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, and his forehead is glistening with sweat. Just like Marie wanted. “Fuck,” he says.

Bobby smiles, and above them Marie laughs, no longer dancing. She sits down next to them and nuzzles her nose into John’s shoulder. “That’s what we were doing before you walked in,” she shares.

“Aren’t you glad you decided to check in?” Bobby asks.

“Huh.” John pauses for a moment, then looks at the both of them. “Southern hospitality, indeed.”


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