Archive of Our Own

Noel has kissed Arthur and John once before, but this time is about as different as could be.

The last, and first, had been after they reappeared in New York, while Noel was still on hospital leave and fighting the belief that there was precious little left in the cards for him.

Arthur had been haggard and exhausted and dressed like something out of a reenactment theatre group, but Noel's relief at seeing them again had been so potent he had all but collapsed into their arms. The kiss had been a desperate, almost thoughtless thing, pressed to one hand and then the next, and Arthur's gasp had scared Noel straight – right up until Arthur got his bearings back and laid one on him properly.

Even then, it had been all relief and fondness. The same emotion that long separated friends at the train station convey when they tackle each other to the ground.

Now feels deliberate. Charged, like a live wire, and purposeful. There's no denying what's happening, and the excitement of it all rushes through Noel's veins faster than a racehorse.

Arthur's got Noel straddled into his own damn sofa chair – fuckin' control issues, this one – and kisses him like he's perfect.

It's a hell of a thing for his ego, Noel can't lie, and it helps that Arthur is damn good with his mouth. His lips press against Charlie's, sliding between and then kneading into them, pressing nothing short of devotion into all the skin he's offered. Noel tilts his head and squeezes at those nice hips of his and tries to keep up, thinking he tastes like peaches and adrenaline and the coffee they just brewed.

Arthur pulls back, chucking, and Noel chases after him for a moment before remembering himself. He's not trying to look too desperate.

"John's getting impatient."

Noel snorts, trying to think straight. "Can you blame the poor guy? He can't even see what's going on." Noel finishes with a look at those smoldering chips of sunlight in Arthur's face.

Arthur tries to roll his eyes but John doesn't let them move enough to complete the gesture. It's a fascinating tic to watch from the outside.

"He'll live." Arthur leans back into Noel's mouth, and Noel unthinkingly melts back into him, letting Arthur tease his tongue over the soft inside of his mouth just so, making his blood fizz.

A hand on his arm — Arthur's left; John's — squeezes insistently, and Noel abates and pulls back out of reach, fingertips pressing to Arthur's chin to keep him at bay.

"Maybe we should move this to the bed, doll. You did say you wanted John to have a nice time, after all."

"I said I wanted him to have some fun, not all of it." Arthur grumbles. Noel lightly pinches at his arm.

"Kid, he's not having any fun now."

Arthur jolts and scowls as if John's yelled something right in his ear. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, Jesus."

Noel chuckles as Arthur grumpily clambers out of his lap, and extends his hand to help him up after. Sweet thing, when he wants to be.

He still reaches to pull Noel into another kiss, tugging him in by his belt loops so that they shuffle backwards hip to hip. The aftertaste of peaches is fading now, replaced by a simple warmth that Noel finds he can't get enough of.

Noel squeezes at Arthur's thick waist in retaliation for having him by the belt, and God, there's so much softness to Arthur's body, such a stark contrast to the razor edge of his will and the endless violence he's been subjected to. It makes Noel a little crazy to think that he survived the pits and actually got back everything his body had lost in there.

His own body is still as scrawny as an alley cat's, as if his system never quite remembered how to hang on to padding after the Dreamlands.

Noel blinks himself loose from those less intimate thoughts and notices as he does that Arthur's left his eyes open this time, so Noel is greeted by the full force of John's stare, flicking over all the blurry details up close.

It's strange but thrilling being watched by the person he's kissing, knowing that an entirely different person owns those eyes. It's Charlie's first three-way, and he can't help but wonder how this might look if the circumstances were simpler.

Would John demand to watch as much, or simply take Charlie's kisses for his own? Noel supposes he could get involved now if he wanted, he could wedge a finger in between the seal of his and Arthur's lips, get caught up in the push and pull. He almost wants him to try.

However, whether through embarrassment or politeness, John only intervenes as much to cup his cheek, smooth down his hair, and finally slide his hand along Noel's chest, tucking himself between him and Arthur.

Noel reaches up to cover John's hand with his own, thumbing over the back of it, and then pulls away from Arthur to bring John up to his lips and kiss across his knuckles. He opens his eyes to meet John's, and exhales a smile as he's met with a stare that looks absolutely liquid with fondness.

"Mmm, whatever that was, he liked that," Arthur relays.

"Hm," Noel smiles against his skin, not breaking eye contact. "Noted."

Arthur then bumps into the bed behind them and pulls away, moving swiftly to push Charlie down onto it. Noel freezes at the switch up as he lands — that's not how he was picturing this going — and his reflexes rise to the surface like that of a coiled snake. He instinctively rolls out of the way when Arthur comes after him, letting the larger man land down on the mattress. He has no interest in letting himself be pounced on.

Arthur makes a small noise of confusion and turns himself over to let John see what happened, but Noel is faster, appearing overtop of Arthur's now supine form.

"Hey—" Arthur sits up, but then Noel's straddling his lap, and grabbing his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. Or, well. John to meet his eyes.

Anticipation boils in those pupils, and John's hand slides around his, squeezing.

"Sorry, doll. I just need to know: You gonna be good for us?" It's teasing and light, but underneath lies a real question. It's gonna be real fucking annoying if Arthur can't get over himself enough to let John have a turn, and just the thought of it makes Charlie anxious, wanting to leave Arthur squirming. 

They had started this whole encounter off because John asked for it; asked if they could show him a nice time, and Arthur had promised that he wouldn't feel like a passenger to someone else's affair. Noel really, really does not want to assist in making John feel unwanted.

Arthur, though...

Not unwanted, certainly, but perhaps un-prioritized. Now, there's an idea.

"You really want me playing good, Detective?" Arthur's voice snaps him back to the present, and Noel looks at him, sees defiance written into every line of Arthur's face, the curl of his shoulder.

God, he gets off on this kind of brattiness, doesn't he?

"I do, actually," Noel's voice is quietly earnest. "I want John in on this too, and if you aren't gonna give him a chance, I think we're gonna have to save you for last."

It's far more stern than he usually likes to be in bed, but Arthur's breath hitches, he licks his lips, and John's eyes gleam. Okay, then, good. Noel doesn't want it to be a punishment, and it looks like Arthur won't take it that way.

"What do you want us to do?"

Oh, yeah. That's the breathiness of someone who likes being edged. Thank god.

"Oh, no, doll." Noel tries to lean into the charade they're putting together, reminds himself that it isn't control, it's something entirely else. He still bends down to kiss Arthur softly, fingertips dancing on his chin, treasuring the feeling of his warm lips, trying to communicate the truth under the charade. "It's what I want you to do, singular. Tell me: You boys done this before?"

"Yes," Arthur nods, and John squeezes his hand again— Noel is starting to understand that gesture as meaning yes.

Noel kisses the back of John's thumb and cups Arthur's cheek in thanks. "Alright then." He smiles, letting his eyelids droop seductively. "Arthur? Tell me how he likes it."

Arthur glows.

"Mmm. He loves a mouth to curl in. Altering soft and firm touches... he likes it focused. Intense. Like he's the only thing in the world." A deeply affectionate sigh leaves Arthur's lips. "You've got to- to see him to devour him."

John's fingers flutter against Noel's, squeezing sporadically. Yes, yes, yes.

"Alright, doll. Very good. Now, lay back for me."

He brackets his arms around Arthur's head as he lays back, watching and watching John's heady eyes, and when he's all the way down, Noel leans down and kisses Arthur sweetly one last time as thanks. The kiss lingers, feeling like honey and the first drag of a cigarette after dawn.

Arthur whimpers quietly against him, and Noel switches to press his lips to the soft part of his jaw. He kisses down Arthur's neck to his left shoulder, taking an extra moment to mouth over a scar there, and then begins to work down his arm.

"Squeeze my hand once you can feel that, John, got it?" He presses the words into Arthur's skin, and feels John tense against him, lacing their fingers firmly together.

"Ngh, he's ready." Arthur translates. Noel grins.

He continues over Arthur's firmly coiled bicep — and adamantly, does not think about how nice it would be for Arthur to hold him down — to the crook of his elbow, when John abruptly squeezes him.

Noel smiles right into his skin. "There you are."

He spends a moment mouthing at the strange boundary between the two of them, just inside the crook of his elbow, kneading John's knuckles between his hands, until Arthur is groaning and squirming from it. Suddenly, Noel realizes that though Arthur's vocalizations are beautiful, he has no idea which ones might belong to John.

"Hey, John," He pulls away a little bit, breath cooling over the damp shared skin and making both the god and his human shudder. "Squeeze means it's good, doll, right? When you want me to keep going?"

John's voice comes from Arthur's lips, his cadence subtly deepened as he subconsciously tries to match the rich thunderstorm rumbling across the landscape of his mind. Oh, how Noel is jealous.

"Why do we need a code? It's not like Arthur will have his mouth busy."

Arthur snorts at that, and Noel laughs also. "I want us to have something direct, just in case. Don't want there to be any hesitation in getting me to stop."

"And if I want you to stop?"

"Hm. Tap me twice."

John tests the tap against their interlocked hands and Noel immediately lets him go.

"Got it?"

John sheepishly seeks out his hand again, squeezing in reassurance. "Got it." Arthur speaks for him.

"Very good, boys," Noel goes back to pressing the words into John's skin, this time bringing up his palm to his mouth. "I realized I can't hear any pretty sounds you make, John, even though I'm getting a symphony from Arthur."

Arthur's back arches a little beneath them. "God, Noel, you should hear him," he whines, voice his own again. "The way he gasps whenever you touch him. He practically purrs when it's good."

Noel can't deny what that mental image is doing to his dick, and lets out a tight sigh of his own. "Damn, Arthur, you're a lucky man. Let's get him purring in your ears for me."

The chasteness leaves his movements. He uses his grip on John's hand to pull Arthur's arm taut and licks a stripe over their shared arm. John squeezes, and Arthur groans. Noel works his way back from the boundary, mouthing and licking, being sure to follow the tendons and veins in the arm, all the way up to his wrist.

He kneads his free thumb into the base of John's wrist as he latches his mouth onto the meat of his palm, sucking and teething against it, earning a throaty groan from Arthur and several sharp squeezes from John's hand.

"Oh, Noel, don't stop—" Arthur moans for John.

Noel finally detangles his fingers from John's so that he can pull his mouth up the inside of his palm, smoothing a sure hand along the back of him as he does. It's smooth, warm, and he kisses firmly at the base of each of John's fingers, watching as they shiver and curl towards him.

"He loves that," Arthur croons, breathless with stolen pleasure from his shared soul. "So good to my John. Oh, lick between his fingers."

John's hand twitches sharply in Noel's grip at Arthur's suggestion, and Noel wastes no time in laving his tongue between his index finger and middle.

John's fingers press into Noel's cheek as Arthur moans utterly sinfully.

"Like that, baby?" Noel smiles, and John's eyes flare as his fingers grip even tighter. "Ooh, like it when I call you that, hm?"

"Jesus, Noel, the sound he just made..."

Noel grins up a storm and shifts his hips to straddle Arthur's — ignoring very valiantly the clothed member standing nearly to attention against his backside as he does — and looms over John's eyes, bracing a hand against the pillows beside him. He tugs John's hand along with him, kisses his knuckles as he smiles down at him.

"I've got you, baby," he breathes heavily, and then sucks John's index finger in to the hilt.

"Oh, fuck—" Arthur translates, and John's eyes nearly roll. His hand is trembling in Noel's grip, but trying to push itself deeper also.

Noel swirls his tongue around the digit, sucks him in, then eases him out, then sucks him in again, fucking the finger against his tongue, holding eye contact all the while. Those eyes are pleading, now.

"More, Noel, please. Please—" Arthur gasps.

"Of course, sugar. Anything."

Noel presses his tongue into the crevice between fingers again, and then swallows both his index and his middle.

This time John's eyes really do roll all the way back. His thumb and pinkie grip onto Noel's cheeks like the world depends on it, trying to pull out and fuck back in, and not quite managing to do anything more than resist the heavy suction in Noel's mouth.

"God, No-Noel—!" Arthur's voice is downright decadent, Noel's hips roll a little against his better judgment, pressing down onto Arthur's torso, and Arthur gasps, his right hand flying up to claw into Noel's hips.

"Fuck, sorry," Noel pants, tugging John's hand from his mouth. "We'll get to that. It's just. Jesus, you two are turnin' me on something furious."

"He's asking to touch you," Arthur pants. "Please, let us touch you."

"Not quite, sweetheart," Noel swallows back his hunger. "John, I want you unravelin' first."

John's hand grasps for his chin, and Arthur makes the most petulant sound for him. "Charlie—"

Noel squeezes his shoulder, insides roiling something soft at the use of his real name. God, these two...

Still, he climbs off of Arthur's stomach and settles himself on his left side so he won't distract himself anymore, and draws John back into his mouth. He sucks the first three fingers in one at a time, curling around them as they slide in, and then lightly lets his teeth drag over each digit as he pulls them out.

A genuine shudder passes through John's hand, his eyes wide and ravenous. If he had a mouth, Noel guesses it would be drooling.

Well. For his first time pleasuring a god, Charlie thinks he's doing alright. Better add that to his resumé.

At the first touch of his lips to John's pinkie, however, he receives that agreed upon signal; a quick tap twice against his chin.

"Mm!" He pulls back immediately. "You all good there?"

"John?" Arthur asks also, shifting his head as he listens. "Fuck do you mean embarrassed?"

Noel raises an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"

Arthur huffs and translates. "That part of me is alien, Noel. I don't want you to disgust yourself."

"John..." Noel gets serious for a moment, making sure to meet his eyes. "Hey, with respect, pretty thing, all of you is alien. And I'm still here. Happily, I might add."

"It's different. That part isn't me, it's the Dreamlands wood."

"It's in your hand though, isn't it?" Noel hums. "And you can feel it?"

"Yes."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but—"

"Let's try this." Noel rubs his thumb comfortingly into the back of John's wrist. "Let me try, just to see, and if you don't like it, then we stop again, alright?" He presses a gentle kiss to the meat of John's thumb in promise. “I'll be gentle. Honest.”

"Alright," Arthur says for him, and John gently squeezes to mark his consent directly, and allows his pinkie to drift nearer to Noel's mouth once again.

"I've got you, John," Noel says into his palm as he kisses up towards his fingers again. "We've got you."

And then he's mouthing up the inner skin of his pinkie, towards the dark, bone-like tip. The finger twitches against him until he wraps his lips around it and sucks it down onto his tongue, keeping things gentle, as promised.

It feels a little odd, admittedly, but the wood is smooth as polished bone, and it doesn't squirm or enlarge or anything terribly off-putting. It's just a little cool.

"Oh," Arthur makes a punched out sound and scrabbles his right hand for a hold against the sheets as his voice turns to a hiss. "Oh, Charlie, you may have just found the spot."

Charlie raises his eyebrows as John squeezes around his jaw. He hums, fighting back a grin. He's glad his instinct was right and this was a nice time for John rather than a missed opportunity. He sucks the digit in to the root before smoothly pulling it out.

“Yes, yes…”

He mouths down and around it then, kissing and sucking against the dark roots that he can see through the skin, getting firmer now, and John convulses and arches his wrist against him desperately, pressing his palm into Noel's cheek. 

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Charlie you— oh, you've got him right where you want him..."

Noel realizes he'd shut his eyes to the pleasure and opens them again to see John's eyes likewise closed, scrunched tight in bliss.

"Tell me when you're close, John," Noel presses the words right against the edge of his palm and licks hotly up to the tip before pulling him in again, pinkie and ring at once.

Arthur is nodding frantically, his hips rutting pathetically up against nothing now that Charlie doesn't hold them back.

Noel fucks the fingers into his mouth, opening wider when John offers his middle as well, just his index and thumb keeping him tethered, squeezing and clawing helplessly at his chin, and moans around them.

"There, right there. He's close, oh, he's so close—"

Noel responds almost immediately, sucking him in all the way to the hilt and then biting firmly down, trapping the veins of his pinkie in place against his molars as he laves his tongue over and under and against the crevices between.

"Charlie—"

Charlie is delighted to learn that he can tell when John comes from the near violent spasm his fingers give inside Charlie's mouth, and the sudden high pitched, panting whines that drip from Arthur's lips — fucking filthy and utterly symphonic.

Charlie drinks in the sights, the sweat on Arthur's brow, the flickering white of John's eyes beneath their lids, the taste of John's fingers spasming and fighting to curl against his soft palate...

Jesus he's lucky.

Arthur throws his head back onto the pillow with a punched-out gasp, releasing his clawed grip on his own thigh. "Oh, fuck. I felt that."

Noel swallows against his suddenly dry mouth and pulls John's fingers gently from his lips. He cups him in both hands as he follows up the heavy stimulation with sweet kisses down his palm and wrist and soft, soothing strokes to the back of his knuckles.

"Easy now," he whispers. "Easy."

John and Arthur come back to themselves as Noel holds them to his chest.

John twitches faintly against the touch and his eyes slide open, looking blissed out and beautiful.

Arthur audibly swallows and opens his mouth. "He says thank you, Charlie."

"Aw," Charlie kisses his hand again, feeling soft all over. "My pleasure, doll. Truly." Suddenly, he remembers something. "Say, wait. Watch this."

Waiting for John's hazy eyes to focus on him, Noel lets go of John's hand entirely, and raises his own left one to his chin, palm parallel to his face, fingertips just hovering over his chin. John blinks and mimics the gesture over Arthur's chin.

"Right, then you do this." He then pushes his hand away from his face at an angle, similarly to how he might blow a kiss. Again, John mimics the gesture.

"There ya go! You've just said thanks all by yourself!"

John's eyes widen, and he repeats the gesture once, twice, before reaching his hand out to take Noel's wrist and squeeze.

"He's very grateful," Arthur sighs contentedly. "I imagine you're showing him some sign, yes?"

"Yeah. 'fraid I don't know too much, but it's a start. It won't help Arthur much, but it could be nice for you."

"Thank you," John signs, and Noel can't help but catch his fingertips once more for a kiss after he's finished the motion.

"Alright, Arthur," Noel finally smooths his left hand up the man's stomach and leans in all the way until he bumps their noses together. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Mm," Arthur nuzzles up against him and then lets his head fall back with a deep, satisfied groan. "No need. I'm quite alright."

"Oh?" Noel leans back to glance at the man's crotch and starts when he sees a new stain against the fabric, dark and wet. "You— Now, hang on. Already!? When?"

Arthur laughs brightly, throwing an arm back over his face and stretching his back as he does. "You have no idea how it feels to share his pleasure. God, it's like being wrapped in a live wire. And with how much he's writhing and moaning in there..."

Noel shudders. To have your very nerves of pleasure intertwined... no wonder these two had something incomparable with each other.

"Well, there go my plans." He cups Arthur's cheek and smiles down at his blissed out expression and honey eyes, far more amused than anything else. "Now what are we gonna do with you two?"

John squeezes his shoulder twice insistently and Noel chuckles. "What's he sayin in there, doll?"

Arthur exhales a laugh and brings his arm back down to cover Noel's hand on his cheek. "That means it's your turn, friend."

"Oh?"

With a light groan, Arthur sits up, gently pushing Noel back as he goes, until he's sitting cross legged in front of Noel's kneel.

John's hand hasn't left Charlie's shoulder, smoothing up and down the upper part of his arm. Charlie chuckles and tilts his head over to make a kissing sound at it while Arthur threads his fingers up into his hair.

"Come here," Arthur murmurs, and tugs him back to his mouth.

Charlie once again melts into his kiss, Arthur wrapping him in warmth and surety with just a thread of dominance rearing its head once more. Where it was getting on his nerves before, now Noel allows himself to shiver in anticipation of it, of Arthur content and firm and powerful. It's sweet, and most importantly, it feels safe.

Charlie can't remember the last time he felt safe underneath someone like this. He feels like he's in the arms of a fellow soldier, one he can trust to guide him through this fight.

Only it isn't a fight. Nothing like that. It's all downy pillows and gentle skin and soft hair, for miles as far as the eye can see. He feels weightless with bliss, with this kind of comfort he once thought he'd never know again.

Arthur moans lightly into his mouth, noisy as ever, even knowing he's not sporting a hard one anymore, but it sure makes Charlie remember his own. John and Arthur's hands slide in tandem down his exposed, scarred back and ring around his waist to tug at his pants.

John doesn't quite get the slow firmness Arthur's intending to convey, and instead eagerly wiggles his fingers under the band of his slacks to try and get to his dick, making Noel pull away from their kiss with a good-natured laugh.

"I think you lost your sync there, boys. Am I making you flustered?"

Arthur scoffs and leans back as well, thumbing at the button of his pants. "John, come on. Help me out."

Together they work the pants and underwear down over Noel's skinny ass, and then all of a sudden, Arthur's leaning over him with a hand on his chest, a steady, firm signal of 'I've got you'  that makes Noel feel treasured.

Noel swallows, but goes easily, warm and ready for what comes next. It feels more serious than fooling around, if he's being honest, and he's loving it.

Arthur shucks his own ruined pants off too for convenience, despite his own softness, and Noel drinks in the sight of him uncovered, uncaring that Arthur's own pleasure is over. This is all for him now, and he thinks Arthur's fucking gorgeous.

The swell of his nice freckled thighs, the scars all down his stomach, the blush still receding from his shoulders, the fold of fat off his waist as it meets his groin... Noel loses himself to the full, naked picture of Arthur Lester, until the man himself is tipping up his chin with a hand and smiling like the sun. 

"You still with us?" Fuck. And his stupid light voice and charming accent. Charlie never had a goddamn chance.

"Yeah," Charlie splutters and shakes his head. "Just like what I'm seeing."

Arthur's ears go red. "Well, I-I'm not—"

"Oh, shut up," Noel teases as he runs a hand up his chest, not leaving any room for argument.

Arthur laughs dryly, his face a little pained. "I'm a scarred mess, Noel."

"Yeah?" Noel tugs Arthur's hand forward and guides it over his own chest, so badly burned that he's even missing a nipple, reminding Arthur of what he can't see. "Join the club, handsome."

Arthur's brows knit in a twist between longing and self-hatred for a brief moment, and then his expression pinches and he takes his hand off Noel's chest to flick at the air.

"Not you too, John. Jesus, you're both saps."

Noel laughs again, charmed, and catches Arthur's hand to squeeze it. "What can we say, we've got taste." He finishes up with a wink at John's eyes. "But seriously, doll. It's alright. Nothing to fear."

Arthur exhales slowly and nods, gently tracing over the hinge of Noel's jaw. "Alright, silvertongue," he breathes. "Turn over for me?"

Yes, Charlie almost says, right as his brain sparks out a warning flare of why? He tenses, lips half parted, not sure what to do with the flash of concern.

Arthur tilts his head at the hesitance. "Noel?"

Noel swallows. He hadn't actually thought about how it would look for his partners to be pleasuring him, especially when he's the only one still riled up. He feels unexpectedly vulnerable.

"Ah, one second, kid. I don't love taking it facedown. What's your plan?"

"Oh." Arthur's face warms and he glances askance, despite John's compassionate eyes not leaving Charlie's face. "Well, if you want me to lay it out... I was hoping to get my mouth on you."

Charlie's eyebrows lift. That— and while turned over... oh. Oh shit. Arthur's relentless, beautiful tongue pressing inside of him...

His voice squeaks a little when he finally answers. "Yeah. Yeah okay. That sounds good."

Arthur chuckles and then his voice deepens a bit for John as John's hand slides up Charlie's thigh. "We've got you. Remember to tap twice if you want us to stop."

Noel pauses at that. "How am I gonna reach you back there?"

"Hmm. How about you slap the sheets? Or... yeah, good idea." Arthur murmurs. "Knock on the headboard. We'll both hear it simultaneously, then."

Charlie nods, gearing himself up, and then rolls himself onto his side, still with enough leverage to look back over his shoulder. As much as he's been through the ringer with Arthur, as much as he understands and trusts him, it still isn't enough to make him perfectly happy to flip blindly on his stomach. He'll ease over the rest of the way when he feels like it.

For his part, Arthur presses himself up against Noel to get a feeling for his position and slides like silk down his back, trailing kisses down the indent of his spine.

John strokes slowly down after Arthur, trailing his fingers in the wake of his lips as if he can feel their afterglow. Arthur shuffles as he makes his way down towards his ass, getting harder for Noel to see until those pianist's hands grip onto his hips like he's something magnificent and Arthur presses a firm, lingering kiss like pure honey whiskey onto his tailbone.

Charlie lets out a low whistle, and feels Arthur's smile as John uses his left hand to nudge Noel's bent knee even further away, spreading him open. Arthur glides his right hand gently over Noel's ass to get his bearings — for a moment Noel braces himself, expecting a smack or something equally rough like that — but then Arthur simply leans in and traces his nose over his skin, his breath ghosting over him like a fuckin prayer.

The unexpected softness makes Charlie gasp, shifting his legs a little further apart, and twists back to see better over his shoulder, bracing himself up on his arms for leverage.

As Arthur absolutely caresses him, John spies his weight-bearing hand and sneaks his arm out to lace his fingers with Charlie's, eyes flicking up to his with a softness Charlie can't help but reflect back at him.

"Heya sweet thing," he murmurs. "I'm good."

John squeezes gently.

"Don't distract him, John," Arthur breathes, kneading his fingers gently into his thigh now. He leans in again and traces his nose beneath Charlie's hole, dragging the lovely sensation up his inner cheek, soft as a butterfly's kiss, and then finally repeats the gesture with his tongue, all warm wet wonderful softness just out of reach of where he wants it most.

Charlie groans, squeezing John's hand down into the sheets.

"God, you're a tease, aren't ya."

Arthur hums against him and takes his time to mouth at Noel's perineum, losing himself in the sensation as Noel quickly finds himself squirming, laying flatter on his stomach as pleasure begins to take over his instincts.

He lets out a soft, shuddering breath. "Fuck, Lester, you’ve got a mouth on you."

Arthur chuckles against him and then he's thumbing apart his cheeks and then he's pressing in and then he's gently kissing directly against his hole, and Charlie... oh, Charlie...

Arthur smooths his tongue directly over his entrance, bathing him in sensation, and Charlie's breath leaves him in a long moan.

"Doing alright, love?" Arthur asks, and John squeezes his hip. Noel hadn't even realized he had left his hand.

"God," Noel nearly whines. "Don't stop, kid. You're gonna make me crazy."

Arthur grins against his cheek, Noel can feel the corner of his smile on his skin. "John, you can go ahead now."

As he dives in once more to stroke his soft tongue ethereally softly over his hole, John's hand slips from Noel's hip to trail around his waist and loosely curl around his cock.

Noel bucks his hips into the touch immediately, and swears as he crushes his cock and John's hand down into the mattress.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

"Oho," Arthur chuckles. "John liked that." His purr absolutely resonates through Noel's body, catching on every nerve ending inside. "I think he'd like you inside of him."

Noel makes a helpless little grunt in answer.

"Ah, but," Arthur cups his hand around his hip again, this time gently tugging him upwards. "Try getting up on your knees, dear. That might make it easier."

"Yeah," Charlie manages, raising himself on his bent knees and resting his forehead on his folded arms as the two godsends prepare to take him thoroughly apart. He had been wrong to think he was ready for this, and that made him starved.

John strokes slowly around the base of him, now that he has room, as Arthur laves sloppy, perfect kisses against his body, leaving him tingling for more.

Charlie feels like a shower of live sparks scattered across stone; bright, electric, alive.

His hips rock back into Arthur's nose, and Arthur makes a soft noise of surprise. Before Noel can apologize, though, he murmurs something that sounds like "ready for me?", and grabs a palmful of asscheek and changes his pace.

The first breach of Arthur's tongue has Charlie gasping high and freezing in place, his eyes slammed shut, every sense turned inward on that gentle probing muscle dipping beneath his rim. His hips arch back into the feeling, chasing the intrusion.

Arthur makes an absolutely sinful noise against him, that for all the world makes it sound like he is the one with a man's tongue up his ass.

"Oh, Noel." He turns to scrape his teeth over his cheek. "You're doing fantastic, you needy little thing."

John punctuates the words with a hard squeeze to his dick, dragging his affirmation of Arthur's praise over him from root to tip, and Charlie— god, Charlie wants to let go. Somehow, in this moment, trapped between a murderer and a monster, he feels perfectly comfortable, perfectly content. He lets his eyes slide closed, his shoulders sag, his spine droop so low that his cockhead catches on the sheets below him. He lets out a whimper, and lets it feel good as it leaves his mouth. He's the embodiment of open and relaxed, weightless here.

"Jesus. John, Arthur— Take me, you two."

John squeezes him as Arthur moans directly into his hole, and Charlie shivers from his scalp to the tip of his toes.

Arthur cups his hips again, his hand reaching around to plant against his stomach, and mouths him open. His tongue presses in in earnest, tasting deeper, deeper in. John ups the heat as well, his thumb gliding beautifully over the already wet head, rolling back the foreskin, reaching down to squeeze at his sack and then fist all the way back up again.

Arthur squirms inside of him, shallow and then deeper, wet and warm and curling, flexing, pulling him apart like caramel candy. Charlie feels like a shattered piece of glass beneath the touch, perfectly human and perfectly divine.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Arthur moans and squeezes his waist and pulls himself back, and then begins to tongue-fuck him earnestly.

Charlie swears and gasps, thighs shaking from how far he has them spread, how badly he needs all of Arthur in this moment, deep as he can go. The rhythm of movement inside has him breathless, back muscles contracting and rippling as he hurtles closer to a climax he's never dreamed of reaching like this. Meanwhile John's fist is perfect around him, sliding back and forth, a tight little hole made just for him.

It feels rawer than fucking, honestly. There's something even more intimate about the sin of lips against his ass, the suction and probing in his most private of places as an entirely different lover strokes his cock, thumbing sweetly over the head on each pass. Heat blooms under his skin, burning through his arms and ears as he floats down the river of need as it builds up and up in his body towards the peak.

Arthur pumps into him over and over and John wrings tension out the other side, and the rhythm between the two of them is fucking perfect, flawlessly in sync and flawlessly fervent against him as his hips tremble, caught between rocking backwards and pumping forwards and fuck. It's exquisite and overwhelming and slick and hot and deep and comfortably perfect and it doesn't feel like being used, it feels like being absolutely adored.

The thought breaks raw upon his psyche and his hips jerk forward with a cry delivered facedown in the sheets as that little death explodes through every nerve and synapse and muscle in his gorgeous, burning, living body.

Arthur strokes inside of him through his release, slowing to curl his tongue lazily as Charlie trembles, and John squeezes firmly around the head of him, catching the evidence of his joy in his palm and curling away once he's finished as if treasuring it.

Charlie whines as his body comes loose from Arthur's mouth and John's hand and his hips can flop down, spent and breathless and happier than he thinks he knew he could feel.

"Charlie," Arthur is murmuring against his shoulder blade, leaving thoughtless, messy kisses against his skin as he slides his clean arm around him, hugging him to Arthur's side, letting Arthur bury his face in his shoulder. "Charlie, Charlie."

Charlie breathes out against his forearm, squeezing his eyes as he feels tears well up in them. He inhales once more and feels the breath spasm in a sob, and presses his face further into the privacy of his arm.

Arthur must hear him, because he makes a sound of distress and his hand is tugging on Noel's shoulder, rolling him back over so John can see his face.

"Charlie? I mean— Noel? You alright?"

Charlie sniffles, covering his face with a hand and shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry." He swallows. "Charlie's fine. It's just-just been a long time." He pushes the hair back from his forehead and exhales deeply, lying flat on his back now. "Not sure I've ever had it that nice before. Thank you."

Arthur's expression absolutely melts and he murmurs Charlie's name once more as he leans back in and pillows himself on top of his chest, long legs tangled hopelessly in their downy sheets.

“We've got you,” Arthur murmurs against his skin. “I'm glad you got so much out of it. Christ knows that was wonderful for us.”

Charlie's breathing evens as he focuses on the feeling of Arthur's heartbeat, and not the fact that he feels so safe he could melt into stardust.

John must say something because Arthur lifts slightly up and makes a noise.

"Well, wipe it off, John. What's..." he pauses and then hisses. "The moment has passed, John. I'm not going to do that. Give him a minute."

Noel wipes the moisture from his eyes and tries to figure out what they're talking about. He sees John gesturing with a loosely held fist, and feels his brows crease in confusion.

"What’s that?"

Arthur gestures as much as he can with the hand trapped right up against Noel's side. Which is to say, only about as much as to splay out his fingers.

"John's hand is, um. Well, he wanted me to..."

"Words, doll."

There's a sigh. "John wanted me to suck the spend off his hand. I told him the moment has passed. You don't need that right now."

Charlie swallows. Well. He may not need that right now, but that isn't to say he doesn't want to see it.

"I don't mind," he says, his voice rougher than intended. He sees John's eyes dart up to him. "I mean. He's gotta get clean somehow."

John nudges the back of his knuckles excitedly against Arthur's nose, and Arthur twitches away from where he's cuddled up on Charlie's side.

"Alright, alright. Needy little god. What am I ever supposed to do with you?"

He kisses Charlie's shoulder once more before pushing himself up all the way and then cupping John's left hand in his right. Noel watches with great interest as Arthur drags his tongue up John's eager palm to lap up the remnants of Charlie's pleasure, brief flashes of white coloring the pink of his tongue before he swallows them down.

Charlie's spent for the moment, but Jesus, ten years ago the sight would've got him rearing for an encore.

Arthur finishes with John's palm and sucks on each one of his fingers, and when he's done, he presses a final kiss to the center of his palm that John clearly savors, his fingers cupping Arthur's cheeks sweetly.

"There. Satisfied?" Arthur asks, and then smiles wide as if John's just handed him the moon. John sweeps his thumb over Arthur's cheekbone.

They shift their attention back to Charlie, John swiftly and subtly wiping his hand down on the bedsheets.

Charlie huffs and opens his arms for them to cuddle up, and they come willingly. Arthur snuggles into his neck once again, hair tickling his jaw, and John splays his hand out on Charlie's chest, feeling for his heartbeat.

When he finds it, his fingertips press into it gently, as if he could draw the sound out and cup it safely in his hand.

Charlie wraps his arms around them, these incredible beings in the body of one man, and presses a kiss into Arthur's hair meant for both of them. God, it's a miracle that he has this.

“You're a full-course meal, Dowd,” Arthur sighs into his shoulder, his own hand nudging against his side, asking to snake under him. 

Noel arches up for Arthur to slide his arm under his back, and relaxes back down onto him, getting comfortable.

Charlie lets out a long, contented sigh from deep in his chest. "Next time, Lester," he murmurs. "I'm taking care of you properly. You hear?"

He feels the wide smile that splits Arthur's face and the excited hum that follows.

"Oh, I will most certainly look forward to it."