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Galo pants into the pillow, pressing his too-hot face down, the next inhale slithering out of him as a whine Meis’ deep laughter covers.
“A library, here.”
It isn’t fair that Lio still sounds so coherent given just how long they’ve been at this. Galo shoots Meis an incredulous look and gets a shrug in response, like what do you expect? From the other side of the bed Gueira laughs at both of them on the tail end of a groan, hand curling tighter into Meis’ hair to pull him into the next roll of his hips. Neither of them are helpful here, leaving him alone against Lio’s less than tender mercies. So much for team effort.
“The fire station, here,” Lio continues, flattening his hand over where Galo’s heart is doing double time in his chest. Galo’s back arches underneath him, hands fitting to Lio’s hips to hold him there while he digs his heels in and fucks up into him once, twice, and then on the third— “We’ll put an apartment over it so, hhnn, ah — Galo!”
That’s better. Not that he doesn’t love hearing about the city Lio’s going to build for them, and not that he doesn’t love it when Lio acts disaffected, making him work for it. He does. It rules. It’s just good to remind Lio that Galo’s letting him get away with it, sometimes.
Galo’s hands slide down, press into bruises Meis left earlier against Lio’s thighs and ass, spreading his cheeks as he physically lifts and tugs Lio down onto his cock. It works ; Lio’s making those high, bitten off noises between clenched teeth, his cock dripping, untouched.
The flush from his cheeks goes further and Galo presses kisses along the blotchy line while he dedicates the next few moments to seeing just how many times he can fuck those noises out of Lio’s throat before he catches his breath and keeps city planning.
“Can’t tell if that’s payback or if he’s just really into the idea of living over the fire station,” Meis says, voice sandpaper rough, the slick sound of his hand working over Gueira’s cock making Galo’s stomach flare hotter. He wants to answer, but he also, really, really wants Gueira’s cock in his mouth, watching Meis’ hand work over it, close but too far to reach. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, weighing how likely Lio is to let him suck Gueira off if he asks, even if they’re supposedly in charge.
“It’s both,” Gueira answers before Galo can retort. Leather clad fingers grab him by the jaw and drag his attention up and away. Only once he’s focused wholly on Lio’s face do the fingers release, swiping over Galo’s stomach, out of sight.
“Quit distracting him,” Lio orders, rolling his eyes when he gets a very insincere, whoops, sorry, boss.
Gueira doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest, not for distracting Galo and certainly not for distracting Lio. He’s allowed to get away with it, which Galo thinks is mostly cute; it’s the kind of thing that he’d be punished for but Gueira skates past on. Galo dares to grin at Lio because he knows Gueira was allowed to skate and that’s the important part.
Regretfully, Lio isn’t exactly sorry about playing favorites here.
“I’m still teaching you manners. You’re not fucking them right now, you’re fucking me, remember?” Lio fits two of his fingers into Galo’s mouth as he opens to promise that yeah, he totally remembers. When he sucks them clean, it’s not just leather he tastes, but salt from where Lio’d dragged his fingers against his belly earlier. Galo’s groan is muffled by the third finger Lio slides between his lips, leather lingering on his tongue. Rather than chiding, Lio’s tone is low, smug. “I’ll let you have Gueira’s cock if you behave.”
“Shit,” Gueira hisses beside them and Galo vehemently agrees, lifting and dragging Lio down onto his cock just for the way that he can feel Lio’s fingers in his mouth twitch each rise and fall. “ Boss. ”
Galo echoes the word around the fingers in his mouth and lifts Lio again, muscles straining until just the tip of him is inside Lio and holds . There are hickies lining Lio’s neck, a smattering of pink over the pale skin of his chest also courtesy of Meis, earlier and the purple-yellow of healing bruises where Meis had sucked them onto the insides of his thighs. Burnish healing means bruises didn’t last long unless they were the awful, dangerous sort, not the kind that came from fooling around, but that was just more incentive to leave them.
They’re supposed to be handling Lio , though, not letting him manage all of them, not letting him give them what they need.
Galo Thymos has never backed down from a challenge in his life; he’s going to win this (even if it’s not something to technically win). With a renewed sense of determination, Galo curls both hands around Lio’s hips and lowers him, slow, ignoring the way his arms ache. It’s worth it for the way Lio shakes under his hands, his chin dipping down, breath catching on the end of a moan as Galo bottoms out and grinds into him. It’s just like pushups, he reasons. A few reps, lifting and lowering Lio is just like its own kind of workout with the added benefit of by the end of it, Lio’s hair is damp with sweat, curling against his face, his lips bitten pink and damp. Cute . Not wrecked, but closer.
Next to them, Gueira groans noisily and Meis makes a low, hungry noise around a mouthful of cock, swallowing audibly as Gueira comes down his throat. Galo wants to look so bad it hurts.
“Gueiraaa,” he protests around the fingers in his mouth. Above him, around him, Lio laughs and Galo groans helplessly at the way Lio clenches around him. Another rep, despite the way his arms protest. Gueira makes a strangled, needy sound off to the side and Galo needs to know what dragged that out of him. His head tilts, just a touch, trying to peek out of the corner of his eyes but Lio catches him.
His hand shifts, palm fitting under Galo’s jaw so he can hold him in place just shy of painfully. Conversationally, like Galo’s dick isn’t bottomed out in him, “I’m not done. I know what you need.”
Lio looming over him in any way is pretty much guaranteed later masturbatory material. He’s really good at the whole sexily menacing thing, what the hell. Galo sucks at his fingers obediently and then makes a protesting noise until they retract, tracing his lower lip.
“I’m just saying, you would be done if you would let me do the work! The great Galo Thymos never leaves someone unsat—” Fingers go right back in his mouth and he laughs around them, stroking his hand down Lio’s side affectionately. “Your loss!”
It comes out more like “oour oos,” but the spirit of the words comes through because Lio hides a smile.
Next to them, there’s the rustle of sheets, bodies shifting out of sight and the unmistakable sound of kissing. Lio leans over and winds his hand into someone’s hair. Pulls them over while holding Galo neatly in place. The grip means that he can’t turn and look but there’s a flicker of deep purple and then Meis’ flushed face is tilted toward Galo’s, held in place by the fist at the base of his hair. The hold looks like it hurts; Meis’ face is borderline euphoric.
“Yeah, boss?” Meis breathes, leaning into the weight of Lio’s hand and oh, Galo can hear how far gone he is is like this, he doesn’t have to be able to see his expression. He knows that flavor of wrecked intimately.
“Kiss Galo for me,” Lio orders, pushing him down gently until Meis braces a hand over Galo’s shoulder and smirks, hair falling in a curtain around them once the hand in his hair releases. Lio’s fingers slide out of Galo’s mouth, wiped clean on his chest and the dismissiveness of it makes the heat in Galo’s chest flare hotter. “Gueira.”
“Yeah, boss. Anything.”
He’s not sure if he can kiss Meis how he deserves and still fuck Lio but he’s going to give it his best effort. Above him, Lio makes a startled noise and Gueira laughs again, so he must be doing something right. Meis’ lips slant over his own and Galo doesn’t waste any time kissing him back, licking into Meis’ mouth with a hungry little noise. Now, he gets why Lio’d done this; he can taste Gueira on Meis’ tongue.
Mean, that’s so fucking mean. In response, retaliation he pulls Lio into each thrust, until Lio’s hands smack down on Galo’s stomach, fingers digging in. It’s worth it even if he almost bites his own tongue when Lio clenches hot and tight around him, grinding down as he chases his own orgasm, heedless of Galo’s rhythm, finally getting into it and taking what he wants.
If he weren’t kissing Meis within an inch of his life, he’d ask why the hell Lio’s making this so difficult; they’re supposed to be helping him come, this is a team effort . It’s Lio, though; nothing can be too easy. He’s gotta make them work for it and Galo does love a challenge.
“Yeah, you got him, big guy,” Gueira’s voice is edged in laughter, not bothering to hide it even at Lio’s indignant, punched out little noise as Galo fucks him onto his cock. “Meis, babe, look at him. C’mere.”
Galo wants to protest; he’s absolutely able to keep fucking Lio like this and licking the taste of Gueira out of Meis’ mouth, but Meis is already moving. It turns out to be for the best; he gets a perfectly framed view of Gueira fitted against Lio’s back, teeth pressing another bite into his shoulder while his hand works furiously around his dick. Lio melts into Gueira’s frame, flushed face half-hidden in the curve of his throat, hair stuck messily against damp skin, whines slipping out between clenched teeth.
Above him, Meis hums and leans in to kiss Lio this time, slow and sweet. Like Lio can read Galo’s mind, Lio’s hand gropes for the pillow and then finds Galo’s face, jamming two his index and middle finger into Galo’s mouth until he tastes leather again. Gueira’s hand fits itself against his thigh and strokes down gently, dragging blunt nails up on the way back, little trails of fire sparking over his skin. Galo whines, helpless.
I know what you needed, Lio’d told him earlier, and Galo wonders if he knows how right that is. Above him, Gueira and Meis shift. Galo keeps single-minded focus on his task because Lio’s making these high, bitten off noises and his thighs are shaking, and Galo is not going to fuck this up.
“You’re close, aren’t you, boss,” Gueira murmurs, kissing the flushing indent of where his teeth had been. Where normally it’s a term of respect, the lilt to Gueira’s tone turns it into affection, teasing. “You’re drippin’ all over my hand. Weren’t you city planning? Talking about the firehouse for the fireboy.”
The fingers in Galo’s mouth twitch and go hotter under his gloves, which is as good of a tell as any. Galo grins around the mouthful, just long enough for him to be sure Lio sees it, and then sucks. Drags his tongue over the side of a seam between Lio’s fingers, messily, hungrily. Above him, he watches Meis’ hands settle over Lio’s chest from his new place at Lio’s left, fingers tracing over his nipples with the same thoroughness from earlier.
“I was,” Lio grits between slick pulls of Gueira’s hand over his dick. His head thunks back against Meis’ bony shoulder which can’t feel great, but he doesn’t even flinch, sucking in a shuddery breath. He’s still fucking himself furiously on Galo’s cock; Galo stops trying to direct and curls both hands over his hips to help. “I was, nnh, interrupted .”
“You were saying there was gonna be an apartment…” Three words out of Lio; Galo would put money down on a bet that Lio had to fight for it at this point. Fingers slide out of his mouth, courtesy of Meis coaxing Lio’s wrists behind his back, holding his arms back with a single hand, flames flickering around them. He’s not strong enough to hold Lio back properly but for this, it works. Lio’s hips shudder to a halt, so Galo makes the next few thrusts count, each word cheerful punctuation. “Over. The. Firehouse.”
If there’s a line of too much, they haven’t found it yet. No one in the world burns brighter, hotter than Lio and Galo, but Meis and Gueira come as close as he’s ever seen. Their fires call to each other, hungry and Galo never worries they’ll burn out; it’s more like the four of them burn brighter together. Mouth no longer gagged, Galo takes full advantage. “C’mon. You know we can handle it.”
“Harder, harder, ” Lio orders with all the certainty of a leader who knows he’s going to be obeyed, surrounded by people who adore following his orders. Gueira’s hand works over his cock tighter, faster in contrast to the slow, steady way Galo’s hands drag Lio’s hips up and down, fucking him onto his cock. The heat in the room crawls up with each bit of control Lio loses until Meis’ nails trace over a bite on Lio’s nipple. The noise Lio makes is frustrated, choked, a full body shudder making him quake where he’s trapped between the three of them.
“We’ve got you,” Gueira says again, even as he gets on his hand and knees, leaning over Galo to fit his mouth over the shiny pink head of Lio’s cock in his hand. The dying light catches his hair perfectly, lights him up in shades of warm gold edged in red. If Galo’s hands weren’t full of Lio, he’d wind a hand into all that messy hair and help him.
“Please, I just — I want—” Above them, Lio makes a bitten off, high noise in the back of his throat and sparks skitter over Galo’s chest where Lio’s hands clench and unclench. Smoke curls from between Lio’s lips on his exhale, like all that fire inside him is too much to keep contained like this.
It’s as good a tell as any, but Meis answers when Lio can’t, dragging kisses over the bitten, bruised dip of his shoulder. “Whatever you want. You can stop holding back, boss.”
“Yeah! We’ve got you, boss.” Galo hasn’t called him that more than a handful of times, and it’s worth it just for the way Lio sobs in response, clenching hot and tight around him like he can’t help himself. “It’s gonna feel good, isn’t it. Letting go, letting us handle you, take care of you.”
Lio gives him a wide-eyed look from above, like he hadn’t quite considered that, and Galo blows him a kiss in response, watching him strain against Meis’ hands, sagging when he realizes how securely he’s held.
Sweat beads at Galo’s forehead; the space under their bodies is damp. They’d warned him, of course, that Lio’s control was legendary for safety’s sake and because he held himself to such an insanely high standard and Galo understood that as like… a thought, an intangible thing. Yeah, he knows Lio is crazy powerful; he’s fought with him and beside him. For the briefest of times, against him. That level of power is impossible to miss.
It’s only now that the temperature in the room rises that Galo understands what, exactly, Lio letting go means. Why it’s such a struggle. Telling someone who has dedicated so much of his time to doing nothing but fighting to stop, to undo some of that control when his control needed to be perfect for years. Just this, the faintest hint of control relinquished, and the room is already achingly hot. It’s weird; he hasn’t really felt the heat since becoming a Burnish, and now, it’s all he’s aware of.
Not fighting back his flames means Lio not fighting them either. It means when Galo fucks him onto his cock, all Lio does is gasp, his whole body trembling each time Galo bottoms out. The heat of him is oppressive; the clench around Galo’s cock feeling like it edges close to too much before Meis and Gueira siphon some of it off.
“Come on boss,” Galo coaxes again, hair falling damp into his eyes. He bears it, because Lio’s attention shifts to him and he can see how frustrated Lio is, how difficult this is. Maybe talking like it’s an expectation is part of the problem; Galo could be planning on doing chores but the second someone asks him to do it like he’s forgotten, it’s irritating. Not that...sex with all of them is a chore, but maybe they’re approaching this the wrong way. “Let us take care of you, sweetheart.”
Lio makes a wounded noise from where he’s riding Galo’s cock, face pressed against the curve of Meis’ throat. Galo folds both of his hands against the curves of his ass and gentles the touch, turns it into a stroke rather than the bruising grip from before. Lio is molten around him, trembling, cheeks damp with tears that turn into steam before they get too far. Almost.
“Anything you give us, we can take, firecracker,” Galo reiterates, and yeah, theory confirmed. The nicknames do it for him. Galo has a half-second to be a little smug and then Lio’s thrashing against Meis’ and Gueira’s grips on him, crying out.
When Lio comes, it’s like being hit with a tidal wave of heat. Ground zero of a match strike, an inferno, a volcano. Flames spill out from his fingertips, swelling out from underneath his skin and Galo feels the fire inside him roar out in response, soaking it up. He’ll never be the strongest Burnish, not really, but that’s okay; he’s always been better at putting out flames, he was made for this.
Above Galo, the blue from Lio’s flames split off down Meis’ arm and neon pink flares out behind him, winding around Gueira. The remainder falls down, fire licking across Galo’s arms, over his chest, suffusing him with heat that goes bone-deep. Lio’s breath is more of a sob as he loosens the tightly held reins of control, spilling into Gueira’s mouth at first and then when Gueira eases back to catch his breath, over his knuckles, Galo’s stomach in hot, wet pulses.
Galo’s never thought of him as fragile, but right now he’s trembling furiously in their hands. Galo holds him by the hips but it’s Meis handling the rest of the weight. Bearing the full brunt of Lio’s power when it’s uncontrolled is like being in the eye of the storm. Galo knows it won’t hurt him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not aware of the threat of it. There isn’t anyone else in the world who could take the full brunt of Lio’s powers without being hurt; not even Meis and Gueira could entirely, before. Like diving into a burning building the rush, the danger is part of the appeal.
Meis’ eyes glow through the shadow of his hair, backlit by the flames he’s soaking up. Where Lio’s eyes go a hazy mix of pinks and purples, Gueira’s look like the embers of a fire as he soaks in the residual energy, grinning at Galo as he licks his fingers clean. The two of them could mostly weather Lio’s full power if they needed to; they have, for a while now but it’s easier with three. A lot of things are, Galo’s learning.
“Boss,” Gueira murmurs, weaving drunkenly into Lio’s orbit when he’s pulled, Lio’s hands released. Galo can’t see the kisses with Gueira’s body in the way, but he can hear it, the way Meis inhales. Can feel the way Lio shivers above him, around him, caught between his generals. Patience isn’t one of Galo’s virtues, but for them, he’ll try. Behind Lio, Meis yelps a startled boss! as their combined weight leans against him and nearly knocks him over, the other two tilting until Galo places a steadying hand on Meis’ back and Lio’s hip, laughing. He still hasn’t come yet, but watching them like this feels like its own reward.
Above him, Lio flinches, breath hitching. He’s still glowing like all of his power hasn’t burned off entirely, and, well, Galo has energy left to burn. His heels dig into the bed into the bed and rolls his hips up again just for the noise he rips out of Lio, who sways in his general’s grip, shivering. Galo can’t tell if it’s the good kind of shivering or not, yet, but Lio’s not trying to get away and he sure as hell could if he wanted to. On the other side of them, Meis goes to kiss Gueira and misses, a tangle of limbs and hands getting in the way as Lio tries to move at the same time and Gueira shifts.
“C’mere before you fall,” Galo offers, patting the dry part of the bed in invitation. He still hasn’t come yet, and neither has Meis, but that need feels secondary to making sure Lio’s taken care of in full. From the way Meis isn’t touching himself but Lio instead, Galo can guess it’s the same for him.
“Not yet.” Lio stops Gueira before he gets too far, curving a freed hand through the hopeless mess of his hair, tugging. Gueira groans, bares his teeth in a fierce grin as he tugs against the grip, just enough to ache. Sparks linger on his lips when the kiss ends, flickering behind his teeth as he swallows the rest of Lio’s power down like it’s a shot, glowing dully. Galo’s mouth waters. He must make a noise without realizing, because Lio gives him a lingering look and smooths a hand down his chest gently.
“Meis, give Galo something to do with his mouth,” Lio orders, commanding even as he lets Gueira take most of his weight, thighs spread across the narrow line of Galo’s hips. He steals a kiss before they settle, less filthy and more sweet, ending it with a brush of his hand through Meis’ hair. Meis settles his knees on either side of Galo’s head, the heavy weight of his cock pressing wet against Galo’s cheek. Like Galo’s mouth doesn’t open instantly, tongue out. “Open for him.”
Galo doesn’t need it to be an order to want to do it. Gueria would be meaner about it; he likes fucking into Galo’s mouth until it rides the edge of too much, curling a hand around his throat to feel it. Meis is more deliberate; he feeds his cock into Galo’s mouth until Galo shudders and then he holds.
Meis’ body isn’t exactly stacked but he’s just in the way enough that Galo can’t tell what’s happening behind him; there’s the rustle of blankets, soft murmuring and then Lio’s muscles flex, hips twisting as he lifts and falls again. The shocked groan it drags out of Galo is muffled, Meis’ hips rolling forward in response until it’s lingering at the line of too much, threatening to cross it but never actually doing so. This is awesome, but also super unfair; they were trying to gang up on Lio and here he is, pitting them against each other in the best of ways.
It’s the kind of overwhelming Galo’s wanted for the whole night; mouth stuffed full as Lio starts rolling his hips lazily again. There’s nothing to do but take it, riding the lingering rush of power from Lio’s own orgasm. From the sharp, punched-out noises that Lio’s making, Galo guesses it’s probably Gueira making him move, using that extra flush of power to manhandle Lio into taking it despite having just come. He’d try and help, except he’s literally got his hands and his mouth full, groping for Meis’ ass once his hands are smacked away from Lio.
“You gonna let him come this time, boss?” Gueira asks, low and amused. It’s not clear which ‘him’ he’s talking about, but Galo really, really hopes that it’s Meis because he’s been riding the knife-edge for so long he’s not really sure he can stop if he’s told. Then, like he’s a little surprised, pleasure curling through his words like smoke. “Oh. You gonna come again?”
Like it’s dragged out of him, Lio grits, “I don’t know.”
A garbled noise makes its way out of Galo, mostly a question, answered a moment later: Lio’s thighs flex, rising and sinking back down until he bottoms out and stays there, shivering above him. Blunt nails dig into Galo’s arms, holding bruisingly tight and Galo groans encouragingly around Meis’ cock in response.
The heat in the room is already sweltering; it crawls further, shimmering around Lio the same way the road does in the summer. Galo’d love to actually contribute to this whole get Lio to come again thing, but he’s still pinned neatly to the bed, which was probably the intent.
“Boss?” Meis asks like he’s not two seconds away from coming himself, hands clenched and smoking over the headboard, thighs shaking on either side of Galo’s ears. It’s not really helpful, necessarily, but Galo swallows the mess of spit and precome in his mouth and drags his tongue up the underside of Meis’ cock, only to be denied, again. The bed creaks its complaints as someone pulls Meis back and to the side, gentle even as he’s pushed firmly onto the bed, tumbling back with a groan.
“Hey!” Galo sits up and tries to figure out exactly what the plan is here, only for Gueira to shove him back. Indignantly, “ Hey? ”
“Relax, dummy,” Gueira tells him, so Galo does, glowering until he looks over at Lio. Rather than well-fucked, Lio is tense, his cock half-hard, flames sparking and fading in his palms. “Help me move him.”
Together, less with Galo helping and more mutually agreeable shuffling on the bed, Meis winds up back against the cushions, with Lio face down between his thighs, ass up. Oh. Oh. Yeah, Galo can absolutely work with that. Behind Lio, Gueira crooks a finger at Galo and smirks, his other hand smoothing down the curve of Lio’s spine. “The boss comes first. Burnish rules.”
Technically, Gueira came first, but Galo’s smart enough not to point that out.
Lio will listen to all of them, because that’s the kind of leader he is; he trusts the rest of his people to know when to speak up and when to follow. There’s still a hierarchy, though, and Galo’s more than aware of it. It’s less about who leads and more situation dependent. They’ll defer to Galo’s expertise when it comes to firefighting, or Gueira’s when it comes to Burnish rescue. Apparently, that extends to sex, too; Gueira summons flares to adjust Lio how he wants him, pinning him neatly on his hands and knees over the long line of Meis sprawled on the bed. Only once they’re settled does he crook a finger at Galo again, smirking.
“Listen, asshole,” Galo says with no heat to his voice at all.
Lio’s already gone straight to work, arms braced on either side of Meis’ hips while his head bobs, the wet noises filthy over the sound of Meis’ hitched breaths. His knees are spread, hips tilted up, hole pink and shiny with lube as Gueira’s hands settle on either side of his ass and hold him open.
Dumbly, Galo struggles to his knees and goes to join him. There’s a bruise fading against the curve of Gueira’s throat and Galo fits himself up against Gueira’s side so he can lean down and refresh it, tracing big hands over the narrow dip of Gueira’s hips. He’s half-hard and gives an idle push into Galo’s hand but there’s no real intent behind it. “So, we’re scrapping the rest of the city planning meeting, huh? Meeting adjourned?”
Galo smacks Lio’s ass lightly like it’s a table, his palm the gavel. Somehow that doesn’t get a response; it’s Gueira’s shameless laughter that makes Lio reach a hand back to flip both of them off.
“Like you’ve ever sat through a meeting without falling asleep in your life,” Gueira teases, pushing two fingers into Lio. Both watch Lio’s back arch, his hips work back greedily, taking him knuckle deep with a groan audible even with his mouth full. “Yeah. I know what you need, boss.”
Gueira turning Lio’s own words against him is hotter than Galo expects; from the way Lio’s whole body trembles underneath them, it’s not just him that thinks so. Like this, boss sounds an awful lot like baby.
“I’ve made it through so many boring meetings,” Galo retorts, reaching a hand out to curve it over the swell of Lio’s ass, squeezing, pulling so he can see where Gueira’s got two fingers fucked into Lio. Sex with any one of them is its own challenge in the best of ways, but he’s not sure at what point fucking becomes making love, because that’s sure what this feels like.
“What do you think, boss?” Gueira pushes a third finger into Lio’s hole but it’s Meis’ moan that rings out, the hand not wound in Lio’s hair smacking against the bed, sharp, repeated taps that leave smoking holes in the sheets. Gueira smiles like a shark, all teeth.
Galo wants to kiss that look off his face, so he does, licking sparks off of his lips. Meis gets syrupy smooth and slow with the rush of extra power combined with sex. Gueira, Galo’s learning, reacts the same way he does; the flush of power is energizing, overwhelming. It makes sense why Lio needs an outlet that can handle it, can handle him. That doesn’t mean Galo’s good at being patient. “Are you just gonna leave him like that?”
Gueira laughs at him as he takes the hint and fits himself up against Lio from behind, moving out of the way. Galo steals another kiss as they settle, hands fitting to the curve of Lio’s cheeks, squeezing them while Gueira pulls his fingers free with a slick noise. Gueira goes hunting in the sheets for the lube. “Gotcha. Hey, big guy, catch.”
Galo misses it entirely, too preoccupied with the way Lio’s hole clenches around the fingers he’s pushed into it. Lube smacks against his chest and falls onto Lio’s back. Galo fumbles with his free hand, nearly dropping it again before he manages to get the container in hand, narrowing a look at Gueira who isn’t apologetic in the slightest.
His irritation is mostly performative. The view from this position is so, so much better. Galo drizzles lube over where his fingers are buried deep and adds just a touch of heat so it’s not cold against Lio’s skin. The next few twists of his wrist glide smoother, fingers slicker, and Lio makes a throaty, desperate noise around Meis’ cock.
“Forget city planning. At this point we’re gonna need to build a city just to wear you out.” Galo runs a hand down the tremble of Lio’s thigh, thinks about smacking it and then does, because why not. Lio’s skin goes white, then pink in an instant, the imprint of his hand stark against the rest of his skin there. “Good thing you’ve got the three of us here. We won’t back down from a challenge!”
“You planning on getting to the fucking part of this, big guy? Don’t keep the boss waiting.” Gueira asks dryly, easing across the bed to lay himself out next to Meis, trading lazy, sweet kisses between Meis’ breathy groans as Lio’s head bobs.
“Shut up unless you’re helping,” Galo tells him, distracted, watching the press of the tip of his dick open Lio up again, slow, filthy. Below him, Lio shivers, pushing his hips back and Galo fits both hands to the narrow line of his waist and holds him steady. The roll of his hips is deliberate, slow, feeding his cock into Lio just to watch the way he takes it. “I’ve got you.”
The hand Lio’d used to flip them off earlier goes back again, fumbling until it fits itself over Galo’s gently, tangling their fingers together. The second orgasm he wrings out of Lio comes only after Meis comes down Lio’s throat with a whine, Gueira saving their sheets from further damage, even if it’s a lost cause. Only when he’s done, pushing himself up onto his hands a little unsteadily, does he look over his shoulder at Galo.
Galo beams, like he’s not balls deep and aching to get off. “Best for last, right?”
“Something like that,” Lio murmurs, and lets Galo manhandle him up and back, his knees fitted on either side of Galo’s own. The height and size difference makes it a little tricky, but once he’s got Lio pressed up against him, around him, it’s workable. He steals Lio’s hand and settles it over the flushed curve of his own erection, fingers settling in the spaces between. “Like this?”
“If it’s good for you.” Galo presses a kiss to the sweat-damp nape of Lio’s neck. Slowly, he shifts his weight, rocking up into him with shallow thrusts, letting Lio lead how he’s jerked off. “C’mon, baby. One more, let us take care of you.”
It takes time to build Lio back up to it, but for him, Galo can be patient. He bites a line of bruises along Lio’s throat and shoulder, refreshing ones Meis left earlier. Lio comes with a noise that’s nearly a whimper, shaking so hard Galo would worry if it weren’t for the way both Meis and Gueira watch, unconcerned, their eyes reflecting the flames Lio puts off helplessly. Galo’s own orgasm is more an afterthought. He settles Lio back down onto the bed, into the circle of Gueira’s arms and all it takes is a few jerks of his fist before he’s coming in wet pulses over the curve of Lio’s ass, the cream of his thighs splotched red and purple with his fingerprints.
It’s a lot more mess than he really intends, though, so he swipes fingers up the inside of Lio’s thigh and then pauses, realizing he doesn’t exactly have somewhere to wipe it off. The burned sheet is sacrificed to the noble goal; Galo gathers it up and does what he can, gently. The bit he’d used is torn with a wet ripping sound and tossed somewhere in the direction of the trash.
When he looks back to settle on the bed, all three of them are watching him. “Meis already burned holes in it,” Galo points out, ignoring the look Meis gives him from under messy hair. “We can buy more sheets. I will buy you guys so many sheets.”
“Later,” Lio croaks from where he’s sprawled face-first half on top of Meis, a palm on Gueira’s belly, stroking idly. All versions of Lio are great, but this one, fucked-out and sprawled boneless in the bed is a fast favorite. Next to him, Meis is fighting sleep, eyes lidded and drooping further every few moments. “Will you come here ?”
Oh. He hadn’t realized they were waiting for him.
Obedient, Galo clambers over the mix of limbs and frees the blankets from underneath them where they’re tangled. Gueira does the same on the other side, shaking them out so that when the four of them settle, they’re covered. One arm drapes around Lio’s waist, stretching across the length of them so his fingertips hook over Gueira’s narrow hips while Lio uses his other bicep as a pillow, back to chest.
On his side, pillows stacked underneath him, he’s able to watch Lio’s hand trace itself over the expanse of Meis’ back, the sharp angles of his shoulderblades, the knobs of his spine. Lio’s index finger starts at the top and slowly, gently works his way down and then back up.
“A hotel,” he murmurs, tracing a triangle around a mole on Meis’ shoulder that he’d kept kissing, earlier. “A store down here. We’d have to consider transit. Being able to get to all the necessary places within a reasonable amount of time is important.”
That, Galo understands. The cities that survived weren’t necessarily improved from old issues of the past, built upon cities that existed before the Great World Blaze. The infrastructure sometimes left things to be desired. Long trips to get groceries, inconsistent transit. Little things Galo hadn’t realized that the Burnish had to deal with until he, too, was exiled to the outskirts of Kray Foresight’s walled-off city. “The buses should be fire engine red.”
Across the bed, Gueira snorts, and Galo lifts his head. “I’m serious! ”
“I know you are, idiot, that’s why it’s funny,” Gueira tosses a leg over Meis’ own, and pokes Galo with his toes. “What color are we going to make the fire trucks, then?”
Shit. They can’t both be red, huh. “Buses don’t have sirens!”
“We’ll figure out the color of the buses after we build the city.” Galo can feel the curve of Lio’s smile against the swell of his arm. His finger traces along a bruised indent of teeth over the meat of Meis’ shoulder, courtesy of Gueira. “We’ll put a store here, once we finalize importing.”
“Hickey General Store,” Galo mumbles into the bird’s nest of Lio’s hair, grinning wider when Lio’s shoulders shake with laughter in response. Lio’s hand flattens against Meis’ back, stroking up and down it idly, petting for a moment. On the other side of the bed, Gueira stretches and folds himself up closer to Meis, the two of them moving to match each other without needing to communicate verbally, settling in close.
It’s overwhelmingly warm.
It’s been overwhelmingly warm since they started, but instead of feeling overheated it feels good. Right. Like he belongs here, caught between the tangle of limbs, lingering on the edge of awake and asleep, the warmest he’s ever been. He falls asleep to the lazy slide of Lio’s fingers against his forearm, listening to him map out the rest of the city he’s going to build the Burnish.