Fanfic: Slippery When Wet (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Slippery When Wet
Author: Avarice and Sandra
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Skids/Harley/Cyanide
Spoilers: 'Timewarp' BMB strips.
Summary: Remember during the flashback BMB strips where Skids and Cyan left Harley alone in the bar where he eventually met Mikhael? What might've happened if they'd taken him with them instead.
Word Count: 7535
Date First Posted: 2001
Date Revised: 21-05-2011
Beta: -
Awards: -
Notes: Multiple POV fic, AU. Oh dear. Lots of abuse of conditioner...
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.

CYANIDE

"But honest, I don't feel like going out," Harley protests, but we shove him through the door of the bar. He's smart, but he's too dumb to see he needs to relax and get all this crap out of his system.

Fucking Jeff. What an unbelievable prick! If I didn't think it'd hurt Harley more, I'd rip that hijo de puta's throat out. You think you know a guy...

Harl sits down in a chair, shoulders up around his ears somewhere. He looks pensive and sad, which I didn't think was in his repertoire at all. I give Skids a worried glance, and see my concern mirrored in his hazel eyes. Skids puts his arm around Harley's shoulders and gives them a reassuring squeeze, before sitting next to him. He's got such a big heart, and I know it hurts him that someone's been able to hurt our friend.

I know, because it hurts me, too.

I order three beers from the guy at the bar. He looks us up and down. Okay, so we don't really look like teenagers, but not exactly adults, either. But one glance at Harley's face and he gets them without any trouble. Okay, so it's a pity drink, but any little bit helps.

Harley looks at the beer forlornly, Skids looks at it with a slightly nervous look on his face. I am already halfway through mine and ordering another.

"Guys," Harley tries again, with the sad attempt at a carefree smile, "I'm not in a very party place right now..."

"Which is exactly why you need to be here," I state firmly, slamming the empty glass down on the bar, hoping to hell it doesn't smash and ruin my cool gesture.

No smash. Suaveness still in place, thank you very much.

"Why?" he asks me.

"Yeah, why?" Skids echoes.

I spare Skids a slightly annoyed glance. After all, we'd spent ten minutes talking about this already.

"We are here to get you laid, dude."

 

 

SKIDS

Oh, yeah, Cya had told me... I forget sometimes. I dunno, maybe I'm weird, but I don't think sex is going to make Harley feel better. Me? I always feel better with a hug, but that's just me.

Still...

I lean over and wrap my arms around my buddy's hunched form, squeezing softly. He sighs and leans into it, curling his arms around me. His hair smells nice.

I back away a little, still holding him. He gives me a weak smile.

"Thanks, dude... it's good to have you guys here, y'know?" And I do. Loneliness makes you feel bad... and I don't want anyone, 'specially not Harley, to feel like that right now.

I stare into my best friend's blue eyes, and there's, like, this moment, a moment that we're snapped out of by the sound of Cy calling over the bartender for a refill.

"So," he tells Harley, "I'm taking Skids, like, over there, so you can get a man."

"We are?" I ask.

"You are?" Harley looks panicked, and as his grip tightens on my forearms I realize he hasn't let go of me.

Cy rolls his eyes. "Look, Harley needs to get fucked. And he only likes getting fucked by other guys, and guys aren't going to come after him if they see he's with two total Baldwins."

I'm sure I blush a little at the complement. Cyanide's usually right... but Harley looks so sad, and he's my friend. Our friend.

So for the first time ever, I ignore Cy and turn to Harley. "Is it okay if we leave you?"

Harley drops his eyes and plays with his glass. "I... I don't think I want to be alone right now."

"That's why we're here!" Cy shouts, exasperated.

I pat Harley's back. "Can I stay with you?"

He looks up at me gratefully, eyes glimmering a bit. "Hell yeah." Out of nowhere, he hugs me tightly, and even kisses my cheek. His goatee tickles, and makes me tingle inside. He smiles shyly as he pulls away. "Thanks."

I have to giggle, and I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. "No worries." And really, none. I like holding Harley. In fact, I still am.

"Well, damn." Cy pouts a bit, but he catches my Cy-Don't-Be-An-Ass (TM) look, and he sits back down on his stool, reaching across the bar for my drink. "If you're not gonna touch it, I am," he says pointedly. He tilts his head back and chugs it within a few seconds.

I realize then that Harley's clutching me for dear life. It hits me: he's not going to get better, not in this loud noisy bar with people he doesn't know without any chance to talk and let go and stuff.

I try to whisper in his ear, but he moves forward to hear me better and my lips accidentally brush against him. I jerk back, a little ungracefully, and with my face burning from embarrassment. Um, what was I doing? Oh, yeah: make Harley feel better... get him out of here.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask.

He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head no. "Don't feel like dealing with my 'rents and Aurora just right now."

I frown. Where then? My parents are adamant enough about not wanting me around except for sleeping and eating. But Cya, of course, always has something planned. He places an arm around Harley. "My pad, then. The twins have some girl party to go to, so Mama's got everyone there except me."

I squeeze Harley's forearm. "Wanna, dude?"

He grins at both of us. "Shibby."

 

 

HARLEY

After a bit of an argument over who was going to drive, I climb into the middle seats of the minivan with Skids next to me. He gives his best stern 'drive safely' glance to Cya's eyes in the rear view, before turning to me, with a smile on his face.

It's the sort of smile that you can just bathe in the warm glow of. I don't know if I was more proud and relieved to have Skids as my friend at that moment.

I edge closer to him, and my pinky brushes his hand ever so slightly. It's fucked, but right now I just need to know I can touch another human being without them looking at me like I'm some kind of mutant. It's great what a friend-cum-homophobic bastard will do for your self-esteem issues.

I really hope he doesn't mind.

Skids looks down at my hand right next to his, bangs dropping down over his eyes. Then ever so slowly he lifts his hand up and away from mine.

Well, there's my answer. Good going Harley, way to alienate more friends.

Freak.

His hand moves around my back and rests on my upper arm like before, only this time, it gently pulls me towards his chest. I let myself be guided and rest my head against his shoulder. He starts up this comforting rubbing up and down my bare arm, which is really... well... comforting.

I glance and watch the road for a while through the windshield. Cya's hands beat a simple staccato against the steering wheel. I watch his dark eyes in the rear view concentrate on the road. Then they flick to Skids, to me, then back to the road ahead.

I think Skids has started to rock me back and forth. I don't know why he's doing it; all I know is that it's making the hurt and the loneliness go away. I really didn't feel like being left alone in that bar. Who knows what would have happened?

And then, I start to hum. It's a stupid nursery rhyme or something, but it seems like the right thing to do. Hey, I'm already being rocked like a fucking baby, nothing can really hurt at this stage...

Skids joins in presently, his deeper voice lifts mine. I look up to see Cya's eyes on us, and a second later, his throaty song fills in the gaps between Skids' and my voices.

It's totally fucking stupid, but we three teenaged guys left a bar early and are singing nursery rhyme songs.

That is so freaking shibby, I love it.

"We're almost there, compadres," Cya announces, turning the corner into his street. Skids squeezes my shoulder and grins hugely, like we're going for a sleepover or something. Which... well, to be technical, we are, but that's not really the point.

He pulls up into the driveway, and turns off the engine. I sort of tumble out of the van like I have had a few drinks, even though I haven't. Cya steadies me and leads me towards the door. I think I could get quite used to my friends leading me around like this. It's nice just stopping thinking about stuff for a while.

Cya and Skids both gently push me through the door. I don't know why, but my stomach does this weird flip when they do. The door shuts behind them with a quiet click. I turn around and clasp my hands in front of me.

"So," I ask, looking at my two friends. "What d'you wanna do now?"

 

 

CYANIDE

"First off, get something to drink." I lead the way to the kitchen, ignoring my sisters' ferrets as they bounce at our feet.

"What d'you guys want?" I ask, opening the fridge.

"I'm fine," Harley says, reaching to pick up a random bunny. He cradles it like a baby, scratching behind its ears, and in that moment, I figure I can plan the perfect murder and kill Jeff for hurting my friend so.

Later.

"Do you have that fruit punch your mom makes?" Skids asks hopefully. I grin, and pull the pitcher out for him, and a wine cooler for me.

"Be careful," I warn him, pouring him a glass in a plastic cup. He drinks some, and then grins at me with a pinkish punch moustache.

Our Saint Bernard bounds into the kitchen, making a beeline for Skids. I barely have enough time to grab the plastic cup from him before Letterman leaps onto him, shoving him to the ground. Oh, brother. I can't help smirking a bit as I watch him wrestle with the dog, both of them growling playfully.

Skids is on all fours, and he shifts forward to rub the dog's belly, making his shirt crawl upwards, revealing the smooth expanse of his tanned back. I find myself staring a little lower than his back, at the baggy cargo pants drooping off his narrow hips. His pants are mind-boggling. For example, right now, they should be somewhere around his ankles, but instead, there they are, still keeping him modest, mocking me and Sir Isaac Newton--

God, what am I thinking?!

I look away, not so much ashamed as just shocked at myself. My eyes land on Harley. He's still got the bunny in his arms, but he's staring at Skids too, jaw slightly agape. Harl turns to me after a bit, his aqua eyes glittering with thinly veiled arousal. I grin, and he grins back, because as usual, we've been thinking the same thing. I bet he worried about Sir Newton, too.

"You were thinking about gravity too, weren't you?" he asks, softly.

See? What'd I tell you?

"Maybe," I answer, avoiding the rolling ball of dog and teenage boy below me.

He blushes a little, and looks at the floor, putting the bunny on one of the chairs. "Sorry-- I didn't mean to imply--"

"Hey--" I say, meaning to add words of comfort to that word, but instead, my hand landing on his shoulder causes him to flinch. He doesn't flinch away so much as he flinches into it, increasing the pressure and the skin-to-skin contact. Instinctively, I tighten my grip, rubbing a bit harder, massaging his shoulder. He gasps, shuts his eyes with a little moan, and I let my hand trail to his shoulder blades, under his shirt, still rubbing. I stare at his throat, fascinated by the feline grace with which he throws his head back, a purr escaping him. His skin's so pale, so porcelain... there's this urge within me now, and I find myself drawing closer to him with every intent to bite, to suck, to mark, to claim--

CRASH.

Harley jumps, squeaking a bit.

SPLASH!

I jerk my hand from his shoulder as if scalded.

"Ow!"

I turn around.

Skids is lying on his back on the floor, hazel eyes wide in shock and surprise. Don't know how (I, ah, had other things in mind), but he's managed to slam into the kitchen counter, knocking the pitcher of fruit punch over, and showering himself with pink fruit punch. It's soaked through his sparkly over shirt to the white tank underneath, making it as pink as the blush staining his cheeks. Letterman paces around him, then lies down next to him, the picture of guilt.

"Sorry?" Skids tries meekly. Letterman adds a plaintive whine.

I burst into laughter, because this is just perfect! God bless Skids... God bless that pitcher of fruit punch. I keep laughing, because my friends have no fucking idea what's going through my head.

Yet.

Harley is staring at me in a mixture of shock and restrained amusement, a smile quirking his lips, and Skids is magically managing to look confused and bemused at the same time.

I help Skids up. "Dork," I chide him, noting the way the wet shirt sticks to his chest, still blessing him for providing the opportunity I need. "Come on, I'm sure you've left clothes here before. They've gotta be somewhere in my closet."

"Thanks." He gives me one of those heart-stopping smiles, pats Letterman on the head, and starts up the stairs without further invitation.

"Come on," I tell Harley.

"Huh?" He blinks, snapping out of a daze.

I motion to the stairs. "My room."

No words are spoken, no words are needed. I stare into his aqua eyes, and read his confusion, his understanding, his embarrassment, and finally, his agreement. I take his hand.

He smiles his thank you.

I lean forward and kiss him, gently, on the lips. His goatee rubs against the stubble I have, a harsh friction that contrasts against the soft tender way our lips move against each other. It's my "no worries, now let's get up there with Skids." Still holding his hand, I lead him up the stairs, making a mental note to get some extra doggy treats for Letterman, and maybe a carrot or something for that bunny...

 

 

SKIDS

I bound up the stairs to Cya's room. I spend so much time here in this house, and in it, I could find it with my eyes closed. I open the door and step over drumsticks, magazines and clothes to get to his closet.

There is junk piled everywhere, and no place on the wall is safe from posters, photos, paper of any kind. I frown a bit as I pass the picture of me, Harley, Cya and Jeff from Halloween in the eighth grade (the one where we got in trouble for toilet papering all those houses). It's the sort of thing that would probably make Harley feel worse about if he saw, so I take it off the wall and put it face down on a shelf. The last thing we need is a reminder of him now.

Mmm... still wet. I walk over to Cya's closet and open it up. The punch has seeped around and is making my shirts stick to me in the small of my back. I strip off my blue over shirt and hang it on the doorknob before bending over and begin to root around, shoving rollerblades and kneepads aside.

My singlet is cold and sticky and uncomfortable too (although an incredibly shibby shade of pink), so I begin to lift it over my head. In the haze of pink-stained shirts covering my eyes, I hear the door open and footsteps enter the room.

Good. Was wondering what was taking so long.

The tank gets caught as I'm pulling it over my head and takes my cap off with it. Hair tumbles around over my eyes, so I can't actually see anything. Brushing it out of my face, I look up to see Cya and Harley looking... well... strangely at me.

I can feel a blush rise in my cheeks, and I don't know why. They're probably just shaking their heads at what a mess I've made of myself... oh well. They should be used to that by now.

"I think I've found one," I mumble to them, frankly a little embarrassed. Getting back on all fours, I stick my head in the closet.

Ah, there it is. I did leave a shirt here last time. It's a deep green button down. I grab it and stand, turning around. Harley, who looks as if he was watching me really close, pads over to Cya's bed and flops down on it. He grabs a pillow and kind of wraps himself around it, large aqua eyes falling shut.

Cya glances at him, before turning to me. He takes the wet tank out of my hand and drops it on the floor. I try to put my arm in the shirt, but he stops me.

"You're all sticky," he says by way of explanation.

Well dur. I think my response was fairly obvious on my face, because he says more.

"If you put on a clean shirt while still being sticky, you're just gonna mess it up more." To emphasise his point, he drags his finger up over my abs, where most of the punch landed. I jump a bit. Cya knows I'm ticklish, and that really tickled.

"You can take a shower, if you like," he continues casually. Hmm... It would be nice to get unstickified... I glance over Cy's shoulder to Harley. It looks as though he's sleeping, but I can see a sliver of blue where his eyes are open just slits. He's awake. His mouth is turned down in a little wonky way. He's probably miserable again.

I drop my voice and lean in close to my friend. "What about Harley? I don’t want to leave him alone..."

Cya shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll keep him... occupied. You just go get clean. Grab a towel out of the hall cupboard. You know where everything is."

I nod once before going over to sit on the edge of the bed. It dips underneath me, and Harley opens his eyes at the movement. Wow... they are so, so big. And beautiful. He really has beautiful eyes. They open slowly, fluttering, before he takes a few big blinks. I feel like he's looking over every single part of my head, inside and out, and I feel like we're having a moment...

"Hey," he says softly, lips turning up a bit.

"Hey," I answer, brushing his blonde bangs off his face. "I'm just gonna take a shower. You be okay?"

He bites his bottom lip, and something flares in those eyes. I don't know what it is but... oh yeah. I feel tingly.

"I'll be fine," he responds, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

I don't know, I feel like I've forgotten how to talk. I just nod and get up, and with a glance at Cya, I leave for the bathroom.

 

 

HARLEY

God, I love the way Cya's mind works. I lie on his bed, staring as Skids walks out of the room. Cyanide turns to me, then, grinning wickedly. He stalks, not walks, toward the bed, climbing onto it, tearing the pillow from my arms, and pulling me somewhat roughly to him. He presses his lips to me, and the difference between the tenderness of the kiss and the way he is gripping my shoulders makes me moan into his mouth.

He pulls away, laughing a little and relaxing his grip. I stare into his deep, dark eyes, and I can read everything written there, from his love to his lust.

"I thought you didn't like boys," I don't realize I've spoken until he answers.

"I don't. But I like you. And I like Skids," he grins a grin that reads predator and out of nowhere, he's grinding against me and his lips are against my neck and I thrust up against him, even through the jeans, desperate for more contact. The pleasure is too muted, too little, I need more. I hear him laugh, and then he bites down, hard, on my clavicles. I think I scream but I can't be sure, because then his mouth leaves my neck and covers mine, thrusting his tongue in. I feel breathless, like he's sucking the energy out of me and--

"Sh..." he whispers, pressing a finger against my lips. I groan and move my lips against his finger, a silent beg for more. He chuckles throatily, tracing the line of my lips, his silent "be patient". "Now then," he whispers, nipping at my earlobe, sucking on the two gold hoops, "listen." I do, listening to him breathing. His hand sneaks under my shirt, playing with the hoop in my belly, tugging. "Do you hear?" he says, tongue flickering around my cheekbones. I nod, even though I have no idea what he's talking about.

"So." He shoves me up a tiny bit, slowly sliding my shirt up. He gets it over my head in one fluid motion. "We're going to join him." He kneels, getting rid of his tank just as quickly. His tattoos seem brighter, fresher now that he's kneeling above me, and I hear it then, the shower, Skids is showering.

Congratulations, Harley, you get an A.

Cy presses a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, contrary to the way his hand is roughly squeezing my thigh. "Come on." He climbs off the bed. I bounce off it, my mood decidedly uplifted, in addition to other parts of my anatomy. There's something about the way that Cyanide is doing this, so... determined, that makes me feel... well, worthy of being seduced.

Gah, if I keep thinking like that, I'm gonna come in my pants.

Instead I watch Cy kick off his shoes, and mimic him, leaving my sneakers besides. My pants seem tighter than ever. Meep. But Cy doesn't take his off his jeans, so I can't either, considering that I'm going commando.

Cy tries the bathroom door. It's unlocked, and Cy's look is pure deviousness, like a snake or fox. It's filled with hot steam, and I can see Skids' silhouette through the shower curtain of the extra large tub/shower combination.

I feel Cyanide's hand snaking around my waist, drifting lower, fingertips slipping inside my hip hugging jeans. I stifle a gasp as he slowly lowers my pants, sliding them past my hips, my thighs... and they fall all the way down. His teeth land on my neck again and I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning.

"Commando. Nice." He lets go of me to slowly unzip his own jeans. I can't help but stare at his body, whipcord thin, as he pushes his pants down, too.

He catches my stare, and licks his lips. He saunters in front of me, and in a blur of speed, pulls the curtain back partially.

"GAH! Don't do that!"

Skids is leaning against the tiled wall, staring at Cy in vague shock. Water's still pouring down him, and more steam has been released, clouding my view. So I step forward, and Cy steps into the shower.

"Um... what are you guys doing?" Skids asks.

"We want to take a shower, too, " Cy whispers, molding his body against Skids'. "Don't we?"

Oh, he means me, he's talking to me. I nod, trying to make my throat work, but it refuses to, with the sight of Skids arching his back as Cya bites him. I'm staring, the contrast between them thrilling me... Cya withdraws his lips from Skids' neck, leaving a dark colored mark. I wonder if he left one on me too.

"Harley." Cy licks his lips and rakes his eyes across my body. He gives Skids another sharp bite, this one on his shoulder blade, making him gasp. I realize it's an invitation, and I nearly trip over myself trying to get in the shower. But I make it, the water almost scalding hot, but not as hot as Skids pulling me to him, claiming my mouth. I melt against him, opening my mouth and giving permission for him to enter me with his tongue. He takes advantage of this, gently brushing his tongue against mine. Ow! Cyanide twists my neck slightly in order to suck hard at the same places where he bit before, while letting Skids keep my mouth. I whimper a bit, and Skids withdraws instantly. Cyanide pulls back only slightly, replacing sucking with long wet cat licks.

"Did I hurt you?" Skids asked, frowning.

I don't know how to answer... my mouth feels a bit swollen, but, "I liked it."

"Good." And Cy wrenches my head toward him, smashing his lips against mine, jealously shoving his tongue into my mouth. Skids moves down to my chest, kissing me gently, working his way to my belly button. He starts to thrust his tongue in mimicry of things to come, all the time rubbing his hands up my abs, gently caressing.

And Cya's tongue is doing that long slow thrusty thing too... oh, it feels so good. Good best friends... oh, take me.

Cyanide chuckles and smiles. "Soon."

Wha? I said something? Oh, I did.

"Y-you want us to--?" Skids trails off.

"Please..." and it's more of a moan than a word when I say it, because Cy chooses that moment to snake down my body, and Skids snakes up, their bodies rubbing against mine. I can't stop the cry of surprise that comes from me when Cya starts to nibble right below the small of back, going lower, lower... I would gasp, but I'm already gasping, breathing through pants, needing oxygen. I thrust forward from Cy's bite and rub against Skids. The pleasure shoots to my brain, turning me into a quivering puddle. I'd fall, but Skids is holding me, pressing into me and rubbing his hips into mine. I can feel his hard shaft rubbing against mine, and I need more.

Then Cyanide is lowering me to the cold floor, him lean-sitting against the tub, legs straight out, making me sit on his thighs. Skids kneels down on the other side, straddling Cy's legs and still facing me. I try to yelp as Cya roughly spreads my legs, but Skids is sucking my lower lip, hands snaking down my back to cup my ass. He pulls me to him, and my hips mold against his, and I can't help it, I shut my eyes and start to thrust forward, aching for that delicious pleasure that fills me when his cock rubs against mine. My eyes snap open as I feel Cya's finger start to slither down my crack, some substance slicking it up. He starts to circle around my hole, rubbing it lightly, teasingly. I whimper and lean against Skids' strong chest, unable to decide whether to thrust my hips forward and get that wonderful friction, or back and hope Cyanide decides to explore more.

 

 

CYANIDE

Harley's little moans and whimpers are so hot. His lean body is warm to touch, and every muscle seems to be buzzing with energy. He pillows his cheek against Skids' chest (again, hot), gripping his arms for dear life. I hear Skids' hiss as Harley squeezes his arms tightly and arcs up with a moan.

Must be something to do with the fact I just slid my index finger inside him. My hands are slicked with conditioner, and they work, massaging his ass cheeks, rubbing the insides of his thighs... it must feel good because he's pushing back against me.

I lift an arm to wipe the sweat and water off my face and look straight into Skids' eyes. His face is flushed with arousal, damp hair hanging in his eyes. There's a large, purpling bruise on his neck where I sank my teeth in (and I can't help but feel really pleased with myself). Oh-so-kissable lips are swollen and red from both Harley and myself.

Harley's pale, perfect white hand rests on his bronzed chest with a slight dusting of brown hairs. My cock jumps again as Harley's hand snakes around Skids' neck, pulling their heads closer together. With a fiery glance in my direction, he lowers his mouth down onto our friend's.

Fuck.

Focus, focus.

I tear my eyes away from the delectable sight of their liplock and concentrate as best I can on the task ahead. Seems like I'm really confident about all this guy sex stuff, but truth is, I never actually have done it before. Guy sex, not girl sex.

Principle's the same, though. Right?

I lift Harl's hips up and reposition him over the tip of my cock. He whimpers again, louder than before, reminding me that I have to go really slowly. Through all the lust, Skids picks up on my thoughts and helps me hold Harl around the waist.

"When... when you're ready," I murmur, not knowing how long I can actually keep this up.

After a moment, Harley nods mutely. My cue. Really slowly, I lower him down onto my dick, the conditioner making for a smooth ride.

Fuuuuck.

The cold conditioner does nothing against the raging heat inside. So warm... and tight. I look up to Harley's face. His head is in the crook of Skids' neck, eyes squeezed tightly shut, panting hard. Skids is breathing heavily, too, and the arousal from him is palpable, but he urges me on.

As best I can, I reposition my hips, drawing out a little, before thrusting back in. Harley moans and moves against me. My thrusts push him forward into Skids, and I can see the effect that is having. Placing kisses up over my purpling bruise, Harley kisses and licks his way back up to Skids' mouth.

I grin ferally and begin to thrust a bit harder. Fuck me dead, this feels amazing. Skids still has one hand under mine on Harl's hips, but the other worms its way out to cradle that blonde head.

Harley starts pushing back harder onto me. I grip his hips and dig my fingers in (that's probably gonna bruise). There's this heavy weight in the pit of my stomach, and I feel like I'm gonna explode any second.

Skids groans into Harley's mouth as their erections rub together again. That deep, throaty noise is heavenly.

And with that sound I officially can't. Take. Anymore.

I tighten my hold on Harley's hips, bury myself deep and come with a snarl.

 

 

SKIDS

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe my two bestest friends in the whole wide world are here, with me, doing things I wouldn't want my parents to know about.

I can't believe Harley is here, clutching my shoulders for dear life, his hips moving up and down on Cyande's cock, mouth over mine, kissing me desperately and rubbing against me, hard. I groan as he sucks my tongue.

It feels so good... my whole body is tingling, and there's this tension everywhere, and somewhere inside my mind I'm thinking maybe this is what Harley needs, maybe this is what he's always needed, and he is making these teeny little sex noises that makes my muscles feel warm.

I tear my mouth away from his, and begin to rain down short, quick kisses all over his face.

"Love you," I whisper, bending to press my lips against his.

I didn't even notice Cy had changed position until I heard him echo my words. "Love you." He licks Harley's neck slowly, over the bites he's left.

Harley cries out as he thrusts up against me again, and he arches his back as he comes to orgasm, babbling random vowel sounds. Cya is biting him again, and I hold onto Harl's hips as he rides out his pleasure, until it's over, and he rests against me, whimpering and babbling still. I brush his wet bangs away from his face, and I notice how the water's darkened it.

He stares at me, blue eyes shining, smiling beautifully. He nuzzles my chest, and then turns his glance to Cy. Something passes between them that I can't read, and then Harley pushes my back against the far wall.

"Ow!" I wince as the spigot digs into my back. "Dude, what're you--"

I never get to finish that sentence because at that moment, my best friend's warm, wet mouth comes down onto my throbbing erection. I gasp, and hit my head against the tiles. Oh, god, I think he's licking me... Not gonna look not gonna look...

I look.

Harl's staring up at me, those huge blue eyes glinting with mischief, pink tongue sliding up and down my shaft, teasing the swollen crown. I have to shut my eyes then, and groan.

I feel his lips come around just the tip of my cock, and he sucks. "Harley!"

I open my eyes as I watch Cya scoot by Harley towards me. It's a tight fit, but he manages, approaching me with a devouring look in his dark eyes. He's kind of on his side, and it looks a bit uncomfortable, but who am I to complain when Harley is bobbing his blonde head over my lap, and oh Cy's kissing me, nibbling at my lips.

Cy breaks off the kiss, moving down my body to lave at one of my nipples. My gaze drifts down, and I can't help but stare at the delicious sight of my best friend sucking me off, completely focused on his task, going up and down, up and down, up and down...

Harley does something with his tongue then, I'm not sure what, but it makes my nerve endings sizzle, and oh it feels good, very good, very oh so freaking good oh oh oh--!

Whoa.

The hot water's still pouring around us, steam clouding all around, and it's just us 3 sweaty guys in a bathshower. We're pressed really tightly together, and Harley's nuzzling my neck while Cy bites up and down Harl's arm.

And suddenly, I'm very glad I left the door unlocked.

I think Harley's feeling better.

The water swirls in all sorts of shibby patterns over their skin and mine.

Pretty.

I yawn and hug Harl. I like how he's small enough for me to curl around. And I like the way he kinda just goes limp and lets me pull him back onto me, his contours fitting like a puzzle piece to me. And I think I like the way all the bites Cya left tingle. And I think I really liked that last bit, and I have to wonder if this was a one time thing, or if y'know, we can do it again.

"You're blushing."

I snap out of it. "Huh?"

Cy's grinning at me. "You're blushing, buddy."

"Am not," I tell him, even though I can feel heat creeping up my cheeks.

He chuckles and bends forward to nip at my jaw. "Are too."

Harley purrs and snuggles against me. "You are blushing, Skids," he says, and I never noticed how lovely his voice sounds when it's thick like this.

"Okay," I say.

Cy gives me this look then, which totally says he's thinking of ways to make me blush even more. I open my mouth to say something, but then Harl's head snaps up.

"Did you hear that?!" he asks.

"Huh?" Who needs vocabulary when you're Skids DiAngelo?

Harley's eyes are wide. "Cy-- when does your mom get home?"

Cy stares at us, then at the ceiling. "Oh... mierda."

I'm not worried. "At least you locked the door behind you." It'll make them feel better, I think.

Harley gets a really funny look on his face.

 

 

HARLEY

"Did you..." I can't finish the sentence. I know I didn't lock it... I wasn't last in. Skids didn't lock it...

I meet Cya's eyes, and we share a perfect moment of clarity...

...before nearly killing ourselves scrambling out of the tub. It's slippery, and dangerous, but Cy makes it out first before turning and hauling me out. Skids still seems a little dazed but he jumps up quickly enough to have Cy throw a towel at his face.

The sounds from downstairs are getting louder.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Faster than we've ever probably run in our lives, we sprint -- naked and wet -- from the bathroom, down the hallway and to Cya's room, where he slams the door behind us.

And not a moment too soon... I hear the squeals and chattering of all of Cya's sisters, going to their respective rooms. I turn around and grab my jeans and begin to put them on as fast as I can, which isn't really very fast. Damn my vanity in wanting tight jeans... I dive onto the floor and lift my hips up to pull them on. Once they're firmly over my thighs and buttoned, I roll over and crawl around, looking for my tank. It's around here somewhere... I remember very clearly Cya kissing me roughly, and then him laying his hands on my stomach and dragging them up, taking my shirt with it and--

Okay, crawling around with a hard on looking for my tank.

Cya and Skids are in similar states of half-dress. I would love to watch them get changed, but am too worried about us all getting caught with our pants down -- literally.

And then God decides that this is a fun time to test my faith in Him.

There is a knock at the door.

Skids and I freeze and look frantically at Cy. I'm still only wearing my jeans. Skids has got his jockeys and green over shirt on. Cya himself has his undies on, with a pair of cargoes in his hand. I think we're all hoping whoever it is will just go away.

"Cyanide? Hijo, are you home? I thought I heard your door..."

Fuck. Cy's mom.

I think he goes slightly pale as we try to speed up our efforts. I look up at Cya who is viciously yanking his pants on. He bends down and picks up something off the ground, tossing it to me. My tank! So that's where he threw it. I give him a grateful smile before pulling it on and going to help Skids with his pants. I think he's panicking a bit.

"Just a minute, mama," Cya calls, "I'm getting changed."

Mrs Torres laughs. "That's nothing I haven't seen before," she says before the doorknob starts turning. Skids gasps, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Can't say I fucking blame him, but this is not the time to freak out.

Says me who is so cool at the moment.

I pull the now-dressed Skids down onto the floor on the far side of the room. There's an open pack of cards on a close shelf that I pick up.

"What are we supposed to do?" Skids whispers frantically.

"Just act natural!" I hiss back, dealing him a hand.

"Is there someone in there with you?" Mrs Torres asks from the other side of the door, a note of seriousness creeping into her voice. The knob clicks the door begins to open. Cya picks up a magazine from his bedside and makes a spectacular leap onto his bed.

When Mrs Torres enters the room, she finds her son casually lying on his stomach on the bed, reading the latest music magazine, with Skids and I playing 'go fish' in the corner.

"Cyanide, I- oh, hello boys," she says, catching sight of us.

"Hi Mrs Torres," Skids and I both chorus, smiling as best as we can.

"I thought you were going out," Cya's mom says, turning to him.

"We did, but it was kinda boring, so we came back here. Quiet house and all."

She bends down to pick a wet towel up off the floor. "And this?" Her eyebrow rises slightly over her glasses.

"Skids spilt some fruit punch on himself and got sticky. I told him he could have a shower," he answers glibly, "I guess I just forgot to put the towel back."

"Alright..." she says, obviously not believing for minute Cya would just 'forget' to be tidy. Mrs Torres turns to Skids and I. "Are you boys spending the night?"

Fuck, I hadn't really thought about that. I look at Cya who is surreptitiously nodding his head. There is something in his eyes that sends this shiver up and down my backbone. Something that says the bathroom was just the beginning.

"Um, yes Mrs Torres, if it's not too much trouble," I reply, quite effectively keeping the quiver out of my voice, I might add.

"It's no trouble, Harley. But seeing as how I have all my chicas home tonight, you'll have to stay in here. Do you mind sleeping with Cyanide?"

At this, Skids -- who is facing away from everyone -- flushes a deeper red and ducks his head down. I get this tingly feeling all over my body, like I'm burning from the inside out. I look over at Cya, who meets my gaze, the connection between us sizzling like electricity. He laughs silently, and his tongue runs across his teeth.

"We'll be fine, mama," he shoots a look at me. "It's nothing we haven't done before." His eyes burn into mine, and just when I think nothing can really beat that, I feel Skids' hand gently brush the inside of my knee.

Guhbibble.

"Ah good." Mrs Torres gets up and moves to the door. Cya jumps off the bed and follows her. Skids and I both find ourselves standing, too.

"Oh, and mama, could you keep the girls away from my room tonight? We're doing... guy stuff and don't want to be disturbed."

"Alright," she acquiesces, "I know you want your privacy... I'll make sure they don't bother you." Cya kisses his mom on the cheek, and she smiles at him and all of us before shutting it behind her.

He turns, and he's wearing the same look that he had when we were down stairs in the kitchen, and when he had me pinned to the bed, and when he was biting Skids' neck while looking at me, and when he was deep inside me, and wh-

Oh look. Ill-fitting jeans again.

Cya stalks towards us, undoing the buckle on the cargoes he so desperately fought on a few minutes ago. Before I can even blink he's behind Skids and I and is maneuvering us towards his bed. He pushes us both gently down onto it, before jumping on the other side of me, so I am sandwiched between he and Skids. He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, tongue snaking inside my mouth.

I can't begin to describe what it feels like to be laying between my two best friends in the entire world and be feeling like this. It's-

Ohhaaaahaaaooh, where the fuck did Skids learn to do that? Oh, that's right, I held my own little workshop about ten minutes ago...

I start peeling the cargoes from Cya, as Skids does the most amazing things with his mouth and tongue and my hipbone. After a few minutes, we're all naked and pressed up against each other once again.

Did I mention how fucking shibby that is?

Skids crawls up to rest his chin on my shoulder, fingers interlaced over my belly ring. Cya has his arm under my head, and one leg flung over Skids and I, his erection pressing tantalisingly into my own.

Cya leans over to give Skids a tender kiss, and then me. When he stops, he rests his forehead against my own, before bringing a hand up to get the bangs off my face.

"Told ya you'd feel better if you got laid," he chuckles throatily.

"You do feel better, right Harley?" Skids breathily asks next to my ear, real concern in his voice.

"I-"

How do I tell them? How do I let them know that they are the best friends I've ever had in my entire life? That they mean more to me than anyone else on this planet? And that I love them both beyond the capacity for me to put into words?

"I... I don't think a little more comforting would go astray," I reply shyly, in stark contrast to my position.

Cya smiles softly and looks over my shoulder to Skids, who presses a gentle kiss to my ear.

"We love you too, Harl," he says softly, "we love you too."

 

~finis