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Clive and Cid make quite the fetching vision, if he’s to be completely honest with himself. Doubly so in the moment he is both surprised and not to find himself partaking: two of his own well-oiled fingers helping to stretch Clive open, in addition to the cock already clenched so desperately by slick, red-rimmed muscle.
He’s surprised because Cid is, though he’ll deny it to your face, the possessive type. At the same time, he’s not surprised, because the fool is both a complete sap for the pretty lad he’s fallen for as well as completely and utterly mad.
Otto grunts when Clive whines. “Tense as y’are, lad, you’re gonna want to relax.”
“I know that.” Despite his impatient snip, Clive looks overwhelmed, flushed, dewy with sweat, hands fisting the blankets under the man he’s sitting on. “J-just… need a minute…”
Cid chuckles, low and sinful. He’s stretched out under the bed, using both hands to help support Clive’s back so the lad can lean and give Otto both room and a visual to work with. “I think you’re more excited than either of us, love.”
A petulant whine escapes Clive, followed by a gasp as Otto adds more oil and tests the stretch of his hole. He’s being overly cautious, but still thinks the younger man is ready.
“Deep breaths,” reminds Otto gruffly.
“That’s it, love, so perfect and beautiful for.” Cid purrs encouragement at his partner. Bit by bit, Clive relaxes, until Otto can adjust and straddle one of Cid’s legs. He keeps the fingers in for as long as possible, distracting Clive with firm kisses—something Cid says helps, and Clive seems to enjoy from him.
Good thing these two idiots managed to talk something out clearly before getting him involved.
Either way, the opportunity is too good to pass up. Otto’s shared moments with Cid in the past when they both had an itch that needed scratching, and Clive seems incredibly into what they’re doing. If at any point he isn’t, Otto will carefully stop his part and leave, no harm no foul.
He is slow to rub his cock up the wet, oily length of Cid’s that remains protruding from the lad. Cid groans, which makes Clive gasp. Bemused—and, well, really, really horny—Otto nudges the tip of his cock against Clive’s hole, easing his fingers out.
“Please.”
“So polite,” grunts Otto. He has Clive hold his balls up out of the way so he can better guide is cock in, one hand guiding, the other using his fingers to keep the lad nice and pliant. It’s slow, probably at least a little painful for Clive, even if he gives no sign of wanting Otto to stop, and dizzying to see.
“He’s stretching so well,” breathes Otto. “So tight and wet, but opening up for us. Feels like he’s trying to pull me in.”
Cid throws his head back, arms shaking a bit, though they don't falter from keeping Clive up. “He’s a good boy,” he agrees breathlessly.
“Very.”
At last, finally, the head pops in. Clive cries out. He’s trembling violently, chest heaving, eyes glazed and expression thoroughly fucked-out.
Otto takes a shuddering breath. His cockhead is so sensitive, clamped so tightly by Clive and against Cid—and Cid is on the, ah, bigger side. It’s no wonder Clive is squirming like a needy, overstimulated whore.
Remembering something Cid mentioned earlier, Otto brings his hands to Clive’s chest. One thumb on each nipple, rolling, massaging, distracting, soothing. A low, pleased hum rattles Clive’s chest.
The lad’s tits are bloody Greagor-sent. Firm, with a silken layer of fat over the muscle, giving plenty to squeeze and pinch and play with.
“That’s a good lad,” laughs Otto when Clive’s next moan is that of sheer pleasure. “Think you’re ready for more?”
“Y-yes, fuck, Otto, don’t make me beg.”
Otto is, in fact, tempted to have him beg. One warning look from Cid nixes that idea. Clearly, that’s something at least one of them wants to keep as theirs.
Instead, Otto says as gently as he can, “All right, Clive, all right.” He shifts, pushing in a bit more, pulling a keen from Clive. “Fuck, tighter’n hellflames in here…”
If possible, Clive reddens more, and Cid laughs.
Finally, Otto can’t press any further without causing injury to one or the other. Clive pants heavily, the rippling tension of his hole pulling alternating groans between him and Cid. The younger man looks dazed, utterly in bliss, stuffed as full as possible.
Cid moves first, and the sensation of his slickened cock gliding along his, both encased in wet heat, has Otto cursing up a storm. It’s all he can do to hold steady, supporting Clive’s thighs to keep him spread open while Cid moves his hips in slow, cautious rolls. Every little move feels incredible.
“All right there, Otto?” Cid asks him in a low, strained tone. Between them, Clive whimpers and moans, the flush from his face sweeping down his chest.
“Aye,” grunts Otto, chest heaving. “Just… haven’t done this in a while.”
Thankfully, both men are smart enough not to press for more detail. Or, at least, Cid is smart enough. Clive looks so dazed and aroused, his cock dribbling pre-cum, that Otto would be surprised if he could comprehend anything outside of the stimulation.
Whispering words of encouragement, Cid keeps the languid movements going. The sound of the oil slipping, their cocks rubbing, the soft mewls tumbling from Clive’s throat, is ramping up Otto’s need to come faster than expected. When Clive’s little noises pitch into whines, Otto leans forward, kissing him warm and firm.
Cid groans, notably throbbing against Otto at the sight. Tightens his hold on the man between them, legs tense and shaking as he moves. Clive moans filthy into Otto’s mouth, his eyes bare slits of blue and wide pupil.
The tension, friction, and sounds get to Otto first. He shudders as he comes. The lewd noises increase, as well as Cid’s harsh breathing. Careful, Otto slips out, murmuring an apology as the head of his softening cock audibly pops out and Clive makes a raspy, needy little cry. Seeing his own cum drip out when Cid starts thrusting with more force does a lot for Otto’s post-orgasm satisfaction.
When Cid’s moans become desperate, Otto takes pity on them both. Easing Clive’s legs down to a more comfortable position, then taking the lad’s swollen cock and pumping without any further preamble.
“FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!” Clive fairly screams, jolting hard as thick, white ropes splash against his stomach, Otto’s chest. His partner is right behind him, fucking his spend into him with a deeply satisfied groan.
Bemused and sated, Otto ensures both have detached comfortably before he rises on only slightly shaking legs to help clean up. If this is the benefit of taking a break now and then, he may start fitting more into his schedule.