goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"Absolutely," she replies, warmth obvious in her voice.

Wash lets York pull away, albeit reluctantly and watches him pull his shirt off. Sure, he's seen York naked before, but there's something special about this, about watching him tease and play.

When he's done he sits back and pulls his own shirt off, a little less self-assured than York is, but still taking his time on it.

Shirt and sweats come right off and, hey, he's never been a big fan of boxers if he didn't have to wear them. All this skin and all these scars but it's all for them as he slides onto the bed, drawing his hands up Wash's ribs to nuzzle at his shoulder. "Gorgeous. Both of you, so goddamn pretty. The hell did I do to deserve this?"

Wash smiles, leans against him, warm skin and scars but he's never thought those were a deterrent. He wouldn't be York without them.

He shares a look with Carolina at that because really? Can't York figure it out? "You kind of saved us."

"Well- I wasn't gonna leave you both behind again." He had his issues, he was still angry, but he can't blame them for being used. He blames himself more than anything else. "Not like that. Not with him."

With Hargrove. No, York wouldn't have. And there's so much there that still needs to be fixed, still can't think too badly about him without their minds shying away from it. But it's a start.

"But you could have," Carolina says firmly. "Plenty of people had. He has more than enough people working for him." And not one of them had spoken against what was happening.

"Just means we got a lotta people we need to kill to make this right." That- that shouldn't be his first thought. Find the work around. Pop the lock, expose the goods. Not- murder.

But it fits the anger in his gut, the possessive clench of his hands around theirs.

"Pretty much," Wash agrees, not noticing anything wrong with York's assertion. They'd killed enough people already, what were a few more? "Most of the mercs are being paid or being promised other things," he says, chewing pensively on his lip. "Freedom, having a record expunged. A lot of them are ex-UNSC." And Charon had promised them a life when they couldn't adjust to being a civilian anymore. "But there's plenty are employed directly for Charon."

"We'll take care of it. Make things right." He tugs Wash that much closer, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Make them pay."

Vicious vengeance isn't his bag- but maybe now it matters. Because they hurt people that were his. No one gets to do that.

Somehow, and he's not sure why this should be any different, but when York says it, Wash thinks he can believe it. There's a cool certainty about him right now and it's easy to sink into that, wrap it around himself protectively.

He tilts his head back, exposing his throat and giving a needy little groan when York kisses him.

Before it'd been an idle thought. Now? Now it's a plan. They'll make it happen. Cut Hargrove down for size, put HIM in the chair.

See how he likes it when his brain's being scrambled.

it's cold and hard and vicious and Delta- tucks it away along every other plan they've made for future consideration. Right now there's skin to touch and taste and tease, D sitting happily in the back of York's mind, cataloging what stimuli gets the strongest response and pointing it out idly to York so his hands can move to repeat the gesture or explore further.

To wring out more.

It feels better than ever right now. Maybe it's just that they have time and honesty between them right now and they can enjoy it so much better when they're not lying to each other. Wash sprawls himself back along he bed, stretched out and pliant beneath York while Carolina presses up against York's back, heat and curves barely hidden by her t-shirt.

And York seeks out the best places, like he just knows which spots will make them moan and shiver. Which places to lick and suck, which spots to bite down on.

He settles between Wash's thighs, biting and licking bruises from his throat to his navel, Carolina a distracting set of murmurs and soft hands, touching him, instructing him- apparently she's dreamed of this as much as he has. If not quite this way, specifically. He can't fault her. Wash is gorgeous every which way and has this look about him that makes people want to take care of him.

For Carolina and York it's a bit more thorough than most. He nudges her up to start kissing Wash, distracting him there while York slid off Wash's sweats and gets down to licking his cock, calculations and intuition going a mile a minute to leave him absolutely boneless.

They're both very thorough and confident and that's a turn-on in its own right. He'd never thought that Carolina had any interest in him like this, and everything had been professional between them. She's been his CO for years and he wouldn't have dared, but she's the one guiding York like she's spent time thinking about it. He drops his head back against the pillow, arm pressed against his mouth to try to stifle some of the more embarrassing noises, at least until Carolina is there, tugging it away and leaning in to kiss him. And what a kiss. She's got a hot mouth, like everything else about her and her weight holds him down, enough that he barely notices what York is doing.

At least until there's York's mouth against his cock and he whines against Carolina's mouth, body jerking at the first touch of lips and letting out a low moan against her mouth.

Edited 2016-01-13 22:34 (UTC)

He couldn't look up at them if he wanted to focus. Watching Carolina take Wash apart- that'd scrape what little patience he had and toss it right out the window. He narrows his whole focus to the skin under his hands, the heated ridge of Wash's cock as he sucks it in slow. Not showing off, not going to the root in one go- nope.

He wants to make Wash beg for it.

One slow pass halfway down before he bobs his head up, lapping at the slit with careless little flicks of his tongue.

Carolina kisses fiercely, like she wants to drink him down and take in everything that he is. It leaves him shuddering and needing more. Her hands slide down over his shoulders, one of them gripping against the side of his neck to hold him still. And that, that would be enough, but York is there too, there and trying to drag him apart with a hot mouth and the flick of his tongue.

No, he was wrong, it will never be enough. He gasps when York pulls away, and pants his protest against Carolina's lips until she laughs at him.

"I think we're being a little mean to him, Lina." York mumbles against Wash's hip, nipping and sucking new bruises into the skin of his inner thighs. Nothing that won't heal quick with how they're built but- for now? They'll ache a little. Remind David that he's his. He's theirs.

And goddamn if having him whimpering and protesting isn't seven kinds of sexy. "What do you want, Wash?"

"So mean," Wash mumbles, but any further words are stifled when Carolina kisses him again, and sucks on his bottom lip until it stings and feels swollen. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, feeling the sting and ache that York leaves on his skin, and he twists the sheets between his fingers.

"Want you. Both of you."

"How do you want us, Wash? Want me in you, you in her? Want her to ride your face while I ride you?" They've got options, here. Wonderful, steamy options he may or may not have been rolling around in his head idly for god knows how long.

He licks his lips, his eyes wide and dazed. This is more than he could ever have dreamed of having. He wants them, and more than that, they want him. He groans and drops his head forward against Carolina's shoulder. She laughs at him and tugs on his hair to drag him back up.

"How am I supposed to choose?" It all sounds perfect. "Fuck me? And Carolina can ride my face." He'll make them feel so good.

"If you can't I'm sure we'll work something out." York sets to sucking a new bruise to the inside of Wash's thigh, marking him up for the moment. Just for him. Just for them. Of course that- well. THat's a good damn idea.

"Gonna have to grab the lube." He leans up past Wash to kiss Carolina gently, sweetly- he never thought he'd have this.

He never thought he'd have anything like this.

He thinks that if York gets to decide what they do, he may die from whatever they decide they want to do with him. He feels a little like tat now, with York between his legs and Carolina worrying matching bruises into his throat.

He sucks in a desperate breath when York breaks off, but that's hardly a relief when he gets to watch them kiss too. His heart is pounding fit to burst and he needs so keenly it hurts.

Carolina kisses York back, one hand reaching round to cup the back of his skull as they do it. She enjoys the taste of him, of both of them. it's something she never thought she'd have, and she can almost feel it breaking away Charon's grasp.

Pulling away is hard- damn near impossible, but he untangles himself anyway and digs around in his bag for lube. Shoots off quick text to Kimball to- uh- not bug them for a few hours. Leave some bottles of water and protein bars outside their door in a bit, maybe.

Cuz they're gonna be at this for awhile and will need to recover. Breaking into the mess later seems more and more likely.

Crawling back onto the bed feels like a joint settling into place, nosing along David's chest, working past him to do the same to Carolina's neck. "Fucking gorgeous. Both of you."

"Came prepared, huh?" Carolina asks, amused, when York comes back with the lube. Wash scoots back into the middle of the bed, giving them the largest amount of room to work with. He stretches out, one knee raised up while he watches York move.

And then he's back, nuzzling at Wash's chest, face pressing against Carolina's neck, and the way he looks at them... god, it's the best thing in the world.

"You're not hard on the eyes either, York," Wash says.

"I was a boy scout." Be prepared- probably not what they meant, having lube on hand. Or lockpicks. Or bump keys for encrypted locks. Or any number of things of questionable use and legality he keeps on hand just in case. It's saved him more than once.

Or. Well.

Made life better like this.

"Well I've always been the pretty one."

Wash wrinkles his nose at that, giving York a sceptical look. "You? A boy scout? Like, with the tiny shorts and neckerchief?" He tilts his head as though imagining it. "Nah, doesn't suit you."

But it certainly is useful so he's not going to protest too hard if York pulls that card.

"You don't think I'm pretty?" he asks, grinning.

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