Page 107 of Puck You Both

"You can move, you know," Theo says.

Patrick swallows. "I'm aware," he says, and surely he thinks he sounds snappy, but his voice is hoarse, and shaky, and isn’t it fucking everything?

I close my grip another fraction, and his next breath comes apart in the middle.

Theo bends down and puts his mouth on Patrick's inner thigh, lips first, then tongue, and the muscle jumps under it. The sound Patrick tries to keep behind his teeth doesn't fully stay there. I lean in over the other thigh and learn him with my mouth, tasting the smooth, warm skin. Above us, Patrick’s hands hover in the air, opening and closing over our heads, like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

I look up. "You can touch us," I say against his skin.

His fingers come down into my hair, careful, like I might change my mind if he moves wrong.

Then Theo runs his tongue up the underside of Patrick's cock, base to head, slowly, and the sound that gets out of Patrick is low and helpless.

Something hungry stirs in my chest.

I want that.

I want to be the reason for the next one.

And I want it so fucking much it’s stronger than anything else, and I squash down my cool, and my pride, or what’s left of it, and let my voice shake freely, as I turn my head to Theo, and say, "Teach me."

He stops with his mouth an inch from Patrick’s cock. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Show me," I say, because fuck it. If dignity’s the price, I’m happy to pay.

Patrick's hand stills in my hair. "You don't have to."

I meet his gaze and hold it. "I know."

Theo's grin comes back, but it’s softer than usual. "You can start wherever you feel like it."

Then he shows me, one hand around the base, thumb spreading the pre-cum that already dripped down. He sticks his tongue out, running the tip over slit first, then circling, before closing his lips over the crown with one long pull that hollows his cheeks.

I intend to study this, I do, the angle, and the pressure, and the sequence, all of it. But my study lasts all of four seconds, because there’s no lecture in this world that could prepare me for the sound Patrick makes, or for what the sound does to me.

Theo knows, because Theo knows, because he’s been here before me. He shifts aside, making room.

For me.

On Patrick’s cock.

I freeze for half a second, searching for certainty, but the only thing I’m certain of right now is that I have no idea what I'm doing, and the certainty that I’m doing it anyway, and that has to be enough.

I lower my head and taste him.

All of him. The salt, concentrated at the slit, and skin that’s softer than it has any right to be over something this hard. Patrick's fingers flex in my hair, and the sting travels my scalp, and down my torso and arrives directly in my cock. I close my lips over the head and suck, once, and careful, and somehow, in an act of bravery I never thought I’d be capable of, my eyes stay open, staring directly into his the entire time.

I pull up, then go down again, further this time. Patrick’s cock fills my mouth faster than I imagined it would, heavy on my tongue, pressing at the roof, filling my entire mouth. I breathe through my nose and adjust, and adjust again, learning the angle in real time with his taste getting stronger every trip.

There's a rhythm somewhere in this. I keep almost finding it, and his hand flexing in my hair keeps making me lose it, and I discover I don't mind.

I’m doing it wrong, and somehow that’s okay.

Theo steadies him at the base and kisses whatever my mouth can’t cover, which is a lot, and then his tongue slides up and finds the corner of my mouth. The kiss that happens next happens around the head of Patrick's cock, wet, open and obscene. And the best kiss I’ve ever had.

We trade without scheduling it, like we’ve become one. Theo takes him deep, deeper than I can yet, nose almost to my fist, throat working, and watching it from three inches away is its own separate crisis. My zipper’s fighting for its life, about to get torn open by my own cock. When Theo comes up for air, a strand of saliva connects his lip to Patrick, and I catch it with my tongue, and Theo turns that into another kiss.

Then Patrick tries to give back. It starts small. He leans forward, reaching for Theo's shorts, tugging my hair upward to bring me into a kiss he can run. Theo plants a palm on his stomach and pushes him back into the cushions. I press his hand flat to his own thigh again.