Wildfire

'So, would you be interested?'

Jack eyes the young man in front of him. The flush on his cheeks, as though he's amazed at his own daring, brown eyes almost black in the subdued light of the bar. He looks young, early twenties maybe, with a cloud of careless dark curls. Fine-boned and visibly nervous in a thin white t-shirt and black jeans. Jack looks over his shoulder at the man he's with, sitting in a booth nursing a tumbler of what looks like whiskey, which he tips towards Jack in a friendly greeting. Older, handsome in a slightly battered way, like the rugged cowboy in an old film. His neck above his black shirt is tattooed with a design Jack can't make out from this distance. Close-cropped beard left to go naturally greyer than the ash-brown on top that falls to his shoulders, he looks relaxed and comfortable in himself.

'Sure, I'd be interested.'

It's not the first time a couple have pulled a 'we saw you across the bar and really liked your vibe' on him. It's usually a good time, and these two are extremely easy on the eye. He's not bad himself; nothing showy, just trim, lightly muscled in slightly ripped jeans, black hair buzzed close and one piratical silver hoop winking in his ear. Hazel-eyed with an easy smile. He allows himself to be led from the bar as the youth asks him if he'd like a drink, and the older guy - late forties if Jack's any judge - stands and reaches out.

'Philip,' the handshake is easy but firm, the man's blue eyes crinkling in a mix of amiability and assessment. Jack gets the message:

Friendly, but tough as shit.

'Jack,' he says, slipping into the booth. 'You two visiting?'

He gratefully accepts a scotch from the youth's hand as he returns, and Philip makes room on the bench as he slides in beside him. 'Yeah, I'm on a work trip so we thought we'd stay on a couple days, try and see some of the city.'

'What is it you do? If you don't mind me asking.'

'Gallery curator,' Philip says, and Jack sees he's telling the truth. No need to hide who he is. '3D mostly, installations and sculpture. We're scouting for new artists.'

'Well, you're in the right city,' Jack says, with a smile. He turns to the younger man, who's nestled in close to Philip's broad shoulder. 'And you?'

'Eli, I'm an artist, it's how we met.' he says, in his soft, low voice. His stare is open and frank, and Jack tries not to stare back. There's hardly had a shortage of pretty young men in this town, shit, you could find someone who looks like this on most street corners probably, but something about him tugs hard on his dick.

'What kind of stuff do you...art?' He asks, clumsily, laughing at himself. 'I had an ex who did watercolours.'

'Abstract sculpture,' Eli says, with a heartbreaker of a smile, full-lipped and a little shy.

'Cool, there's a place showing something like that around here at the moment, at the Iris?'

'It was our first stop when we landed,' Philip says, and they both laugh easily together. 'Trust Kowalski to bag the whole first floor.' He turns to Jack, including him. 'Jakub Kowalski makes these huge pieces, ceiling-scapers.'

'He's doing something really interesting at the moment, he says he's been inspired by those seeds that don't sprout unless there's a bad wildfire,' Eli's eyes light up as he talks. 'Like...only the pressure of complete destruction makes them live.'

Philip smiles indulgently, one hand on the back of his boyfriend's neck. Jack realises what it is about Eli that draws him; his glowing, slightly innocent, enthusiasm. He imagines those soft, pinkish lips bitten and moaning and feels his cock harden in his jeans.

'Well, it's a real pleasure to meet you both,' he leans back comfortably, as though he's known them for years. 'Are you...ah, looking for anything in particular?'

'We're just...open to a new experience.' Philip says, stroking the inside of Eli's wrist. 'We haven't done this before.'

Jack is impressed. 'You come across on ice for a man who hasn't.'

Philip shrugs those broad shoulders. 'I like to take life in my stride.'

'Best way,' Jack agrees, sipping his drink, feeling the pleasant burn of it in his chest. He looks at Eli, who returns his gaze with that half-smile. 'Well, it's all about trust, parameters, communication.' He flicks his gaze between them. 'How about we head back to yours, have a drink, see how we go...you want to try something out, we can, and if you decide it's not for you, no drama.'

'Sounds good,' Eli says, looking to Philip for confirmation. He nods, the tattooed skin of his neck moving as he swallows hard.

'I...well, I

think

I'd like to watch.' He says, grazing Eli's curls with the back of his hand.

Yeah, I can understand that

, Jack thinks, as the image makes his brain mist. As they wander back towards their hotel, Philip reaches over and places Jack's arm around Eli's slim waist as he lays his own across his shoulders. Jack relaxes a little more as they fall into step. So, he isn't going to be made to feel like a spare prick at a wedding, good sign. When the younger man looks into his face, then down at the sidewalk, blushing, Jack feels every nerve in his body sing.

The hotel's nothing special, mid-range business trip local, but he does know from previous assignations that it has modern soundproofing. He grins as they bundle into the elevator, pressing Eli between their bodies. He shares a glance with Philip over his shoulder.

'Can I kiss him?' He asks, brushing the hair from the back of Eli's neck, pressing his mouth to it when he nods, licking the tender skin. Eli makes a stifled sound that goes straight to his cock, and he can tell by Philip's sharp intake of breath that it has the same effect on him.

In the room, he shrugs off his jacket and takes off his shoes, walking around, stretching, assessing the furniture for fuckability. Apart from the basic double bed, there's a full length mirror on one wall and a soft, low, armless chair by a coffee table which definitely has potential. Philip pours some more whiskey from a bottle on the table into two water glasses, handing one to Jack and sharing the other with Eli, who looks increasingly nervous. Jack takes a sip of his drink.

'You don't have to do anything you're not cool with,' he says. 'As if your man's gonna let anything happen to you.'

'It's not that,' he says, taking a gulp, wincing as it fires down his throat. 'I just...I've never done anything like this, I don't want to be disappointing.'

As if you could be, you beautiful young idiot

, Jack thinks almost affectionately as Philip rubs Eli's back, clearly thinking the same thing.

'Hey, I'm the third wheel here, worrying about being a disappointment's my job.' Jack grins. 'Don't go making me redundant in

this

economy.'

Eli smiles then, genuinely, and Jack shoots a look at Philip. 'You got a bath or a shower?'

'Shower, could get two in there, but not three.'

'Ok...well, if you think you might like to watch, we could start there?'

'Works for me,' Philip says, brushing his lips against Eli's temple, unbuttoning his own black shirt and pulling it off. Jack gives him an admiring sweep; broad and muscular, with a work-out stomach and really nice shoulders. The tattoo on his neck - entwined snakes, he can see now - comes down to his nipples, which wink with two steel rings. He yanks his own t-shirt over his head and sees Philip give his physique a returning glance of approval. Eli watches him slowly unbutton his jeans with widening eyes as Philip kisses the back of his neck, and Jack mentally takes a deep breath as he slides off his boxers. His cock isn't the longest, but it's thick and eager, and he strokes himself once, twice, watching closely as Eli bites his own lower lip, before sauntering towards the bathroom.

'I'll make sure the water's warm,' he says, grinning.

'Much obliged,' Philip murmurs against Eli's neck, and Jack stays to watch as he unbuttons the youth's black jeans. Eli closes his eyes and rolls his head back as Philip pushes them down his thighs along with black briefs, and Jack feels the heat pooling between his legs intensify at the sight of him, cheeks flushed, pretty cock straining in Philip's wide hand. He offers up a silent prayer:

please god, don't let anything go wrong, please let me get to fuck him, I know some people say you're against this sort of thing but look at that, I mean, you can see where I'm coming from.

In the bathroom, he steps into the shower and begins to lather up some citrus-scented gel over his chest, and when the door opens he gives a sleepy glance over his shoulder at the two of them. Eli looks almost dazed as he joins him, still blushing as he stares at Jack's soapy body. Naked, he himself has the slightly reedy look of a library rather than gym-goer, lithe and pale.

'Come here,' Jack says softly, and he soaps Eli's shoulders, squeezing along the tense muscles. He runs his hands down that long back, making him shiver, before letting his hands roam lower, stroking and massaging the tight, round arse. He kisses Eli gently, thrilled at the little gasping sounds he makes as Jack's soapy fingers slip between his cheeks and rub teasingly over his hole. He probes more firmly, edging inside him and making slow little circles as the water runs over them both, feeling Eli's legs tremble and cock twitch against him as Jack's tongue simultaneously explores his mouth. Eventually, he tears his lips away even as his wet finger works deeper, glancing at Philip who is leaning against the wall and palming himself through his jeans, eyes glazed with lust.

Jack turns Eli around, squeezing more gel into one hand and running it liberally over him, slowly soaping his cock in front of his boyfriend as his eyelids flutter. From behind, he slips a thumb back inside him, pressing and flexing until Eli's breath hitches in uneven sounds swallowed by the pounding water. The shower rinses the soap from them both as Jack leans in and speaks softly right into his ear.

'I'm going to take you back in there and put my tongue in your arse until you cry, you'll beg me to put my cock inside you, but it's not up to you, you hear? It's up to him,' He nods at Philip. 'He says whether you get fucked or not, he says whether you're allowed to come.'

'Oh,

god

,' he hears Philip groan as Eli bucks his hips into Jack's hand. He lightly slaps his arse,

Christ, that beautiful arse

, and gets out of the shower, yanking a towel from the rail.

'Everyone good?' He says, quickly rubbing down. Philip doesn't take his eyes from Eli's face, tight with need, as he answers breathlessly:

'Oh,

definitely

good.'

Jack takes Eli by the hand and leads him into the other room, pushing him face-down over the edge of the bed. He fists his hands in the sheets, ears going endearingly red, and Jack makes a couple of soothing passes down his back as Philip positions himself in the low chair. Jack kneels and pushes those gorgeous cheeks apart, and Eli makes a soft, involuntary sound, jerking as Jack's tongue works around and into him, the delicate sensation and exquisite shame of it making him moan helplessly into the sheets. He wriggles, grinding his hips and seeking friction against his cock until Jack pulls away, smiling to himself as Eli moans at the loss. He locks his hazel eyes with Philip's blue ones.

'Say, he's having trouble keeping still, for

some

reason, would you bring me your lube and hold him down for me?'

Philip doesn't need to be asked twice, rising quickly, groaning with the aching hardness in his jeans, tossing Jack the bottle from the nightstand and kneeling on the floor on the opposite side of the bed.

'Eli, look at me,' he says, low and rough, and when he does Philip grips his wrists hard. Jack lowers his face to that perfect little rosebud hole again, and Eli shudders as his tongue resumes its teasing; twisting and flicking and forcing his spit into him. Jack feels him straining against Philip's hands, and he works him hungrily until he hears Eli whimper: 'Please let him fuck me.'

'Ask me again,' Philip says, and Jack hears something hot and almost cruel in it.

'Please let him fuck me.' Jack renews his efforts despite the burning ache in his tongue, and Eli arches his back: '

Ah

...

please, Philip, please let him fuck me.'

Jack withdraws and pumps a little lube into his hand, coating his fingers, carefully working two inside. When he finds what he's looking for, he curls down, pressing and rubbing, and Eli almost wails. Still gripping his wrists, Philip leans forward to capture his mouth until he runs out of air to plead with and can only writhe between them, making urgent little noises into Philip's mouth. Philip pulls away, watching his face contort as Jack's fingers stroke him into incoherence. He slides his eyes to Jack and back again, deciding something, then he drops a kiss on the top of Eli's curly hair.

'I want to see you take his cock,' he says softly. 'Will you do that for me?'

Eli gasps:

yes, yes,

and Jack looks briefly at the ceiling:

Thanks god, I owe you one.

He slowly withdraws his fingers.

'I think,' he says quietly to Philip, 'if we can move the chair over it gives you, ah, better access if you decide you'd like to join us.' Quickly, Philip drags it over and turns it sideways, and Jack guides Eli to it, knees apart on the wide seat, hands braced on Philip's thighs as the older man sits on the edge of the bed. Jack glances in the mirror, he can see them both in profile, which pleases him.

'Okay,' he says, softly, slicking up his dick with one hand, working a little more lube into Eli's keyed-up body with the other. 'Okay.'

He lines himself up and pushes, pushes - so careful and so demanding all at once. He knows the knuckles of his hands where they grip Eli's hips are white, and

god, god

, he's tight and hot beyond reason. Jack bites his lip against the almost suffocating pleasure as Eli gasps, grunts, tries so hard to relax around him; and he knows the burn as he's forced apart is hurting him a little. He circles his hips gently against Eli's arse and Philip grips the younger man firmly as he squirms against Jack's invading body.

'God, he's an

angel

, your boy,' He manages to grind out between his teeth, the pale back before him is already sheened with sweat.

Philip's lips curl in a savage smile as Eli's breath stutters, the air pressed out of him by Jack's long, relentless thrust. Considerate as he is, his cock is thick enough that Eli's fingers tighten convulsively and he makes desperate sounds in his throat. Jack can tell it's taking all of the other man's fraying self-control - staring at Eli's mouth - not to stand up, push his head down and hear that sound again against his own cock, still straining agonisingly against the front of his jeans. Jack meets his eyes and looks appreciatively at the bulge practically wearing a hole in the denim.

'Oh, yes,' he says, reading his mind with a wide grin. 'So much more fun than just watching, don't you think?'

He slides in then to the hilt, brows knotting in concentration and fierce pleasure as Eli's back arches and he cries out as he's held against Jack's strong thighs. Philip cups his face in his broad hands.

'You're doing so well,' Jack hears him whisper against his lips, brushing a thumb over them and inhaling sharply as Eli sucks it eagerly. 'Good boy.'

Jack sets a slow, slow rhythm as he opens him up, gentle but insistent, and Philip kisses Eli deeply, not really letting him catch his breath as he whines into his mouth. The way his thighs tense and tremble against the rhythm of Jack's hips excites him unbearably, and he feels his own desire mingle with Philip's, shifting the texture of the air, making it electric. The guy can hardly believe he's watching his pretty boyfriend get fucked in his tight arse by a stranger...Jack knows he needs navigate this carefully though, he sees the grip the man has on Eli's jaw as he kisses him, strong and demanding and suddenly

possessive.

Can't blame the guy,

he thinks, as the slim body writhes between them, sweat glittering on his sides.

Don't think I could bear to share him, fuck, I'm not sure I'd let him out of the house.

Philip unbuttons his jeans with one hand, almost wrenching his own cock free, and Jack just about stops himself whistling in appreciation. Long, leaking pre-come, thick at the base like a root. He fucks into Eli a little faster, imagining that cock being crushed into his pouting mouth. At the sight of that straining dick Eli moans as though he's almost afraid, and Philip strokes himself slowly as he glances at Jack with a calm assurance.

'Fuck him harder.'

With pleasure, friend,

he thinks. Putting a strong, tanned hand on the back of Eli's neck, he shoves his cock into him with renewed vigour, forcing little panting cries from that mouth that make his spine tingle.

'...uh...god...fuck, I...'

Philip strokes Eli's hair away from his eyes, fingers tangling in the damp curls.

'Reckon I will join you after all,' he says, attempting to retain his dry, nonchalant tone but failing utterly.

'

What do you think?'

'I think you should put that pretty mouth to work, or you can touch him, if you think he's allowed to come already,' Jack gasps, smirking.

'He isn't.'

'Good...' Jack slows his rhythm, catching his own breath and willing himself to be still. Then he pulls Eli back against him, forcing his spine to arch like a bow, impaled on Jack's cock. 'You hear that?' He croons into his ear. 'He's going to fuck your mouth, and you'll be good for him too, won't you? You've already been so good.'

Eli moans in response, eyelids fluttering. His cock has softened a little from being fucked, but he's slick with his own pre-come and Jack flicks his eyes to Philip for permission as he reaches round and strokes lingeringly over the sensitive underside of the head, making him jolt.

'

Yes

...'

Eli whispers, inhaling raggedly. '

Please.'

'Please what?' Jack breathes. He smiles at Philip as Eli tosses his head from side to side, overwhelmed. 'Such a sweetheart, so polite.'

'Trained him right,' Philip says gruffly, positioning himself, mouth dropping open as Eli braces his hands against the edge of the bed and eagerly licks the tip of him. Philip pushes his cock slowly into Eli's mouth, and there is a moment where they both fill him completely, so deep it aches. Between them, Eli's body trembles and clenches in a way that makes Jack's vision blur. For all his legendary self-control, the choked noises coming from that throat as it takes Philip's length, the way he spasms uncontrollably around Jack, are close to pushing him over. Philip's hands cradle the storm of dark curly hair and they hold him still together, helpless and stretched and full.

Jack reaches out and gently squeezes the tension in Eli's shoulders a couple of times, taking the moment to regulate his own breathing. He meet Philip's eyes.

'How would you like me to fuck him?'

'Slow,' He groans as he pulls out of Eli's mouth. 'I'm not sure how long...ah...' his words peter out as he slides back inside.

Jack rocks in and out gently, matching Philip's languorous thrusts. Soon, they fall into a steady rhythm, surging inside Eli's body together as he whimpers around the cock in his mouth and his hips rut uselessly into the air. Taking his cue from Philip, Jack slowly increases his pace, hearing himself groan as he tries to delay the spiral into pleasure. Usually a stamina god, something about Eli's trusting abandon as he shudders and sucks makes his head spin. They fuck him with increasing urgency for what feels like forever, until Jack thrusts into him hard enough to push his throat violently onto Philip, whose breathing starts to unravel and growls obscenities as he forces himself deeper, until Eli struggles to breathe.