Airtight

tw breathplay / asphyxiation

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you.”

The words aren’t directed at him, but they still send a shudder racing up Leon’s spine as he watches the two other figures in bed with him. His bed, the largest, now holding the two people he’s come to care most about in this world. All of their ups and downs and emotions—and lust. Lots of lust for both of them, even though it took him far longer than he wants to think about to admit to that kind of emotion. Too used to denial to even imagine acceptance, and yet here they are in his bedroom. Sheets tangled from where they were carelessly knocked aside to make room for bodies, the lights on low to allow him a full view of the panorama in front of him.

He’s imagined it before, what Raihan and Piers would look like together. The delicious contrasts of them cast in sudden high-definition; Raihan’s tall form curled over Piers, small and delicate, hands sliding with an impossible gentleness over the ribs that press up through pale skin. He allows his gaze to move now with the hunger he used to deny himself, tracing the bunch and flex of Raihan’s muscles as they work beneath his flesh. So powerful, yet placid. Like a shark, or, well...a dragon. Raihan doesn’t need to show off his strength here, it’s taken as nothing more than a firm fact by the man beneath him. Piers arches, languid, one slender leg hooking up and over the brutal v-shape of Raihan’s hips. His heel digs in to the muscle of Raihan’s ass, and for a moment, Leon is distracted by the sight of it.

Until a wet gasp catches his attention, and everything in him freezes, running hot and cold with tremors of anticipation and fear alike. Raihan’s massive hand is wrapping around Piers’ throat, palm pressed over the windpipe that produces so many sweet songs, fingertips digging in faintly at the sides.

God. It’s the way he just holds it, Piers’ whole life in his hand They fit together like notes in a concerto, and Leon’s dick throbs at the picture they paint together. Moving in beautiful unison, Piers’ body undulating under Raihan’s until the larger man leans down, the force of his thrusting hips pinning Piers in place as the filthy-slick slap of their joining fills the room.

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” he croons, and Leon’s throat goes dry. To be either one of them in this moment would be reaching into the deepest, darkest fantasies he’s always kept hidden away inside himself, and with a defeated whimper, he reaches down to his neglected cock to begin stroking it. Wetness comes readily to the tip and doubles when Piers’ mouth falls open, the tendons in the back of Raihan’s hand standing out as he starts to squeeze down. “I know, let me take care of it,” he purrs.

Piers gasps, and the sound is diminishing, like he’s truly running out of air under Raihan’s hand. It should be distressing—doesn’t it hurt? Isn’t he scared?

Yet Piers’ perfect mouth only parts wider, his eyes dark and flashing with want. Above him, Raihan only grins one of his knowing, wicked expressions, and tightens his grip further. Around them, Piers’ hair fans out like a halo, and as though in a dream, Leon reaches out to touch it. Anything to be a part of this moment.

Soft as silk.

“Please—Rai—“ Piers’ voice is rough and hoarse, the way it never sounds, and a part of Leon is terrified in the same moment that he feels lust clench like a fist in his gut. True desperation in that plea, and Raihan’s eyes bear down like a second penetration even as his cock slams inside again. Every part of him is massive, even there, and when Leon’s eye wanders down to catch a glimpse he sees something else entirely. On every inward thrust, Piers’ belly bulges out because—fucking hell, because Raihan’s cock is stretching him like that, so big it’s filling him all the way and forcing him to take even more.

For a flash, Leon pictures being in either of their places with pure erotic envy. To be Piers, cast beneath Raihan, the rival he’s loved and fought against for so long. How would that palm feel wrapped around his own throat, breath dwindling in his lungs? The way every sensation would intensify tenfold, the way Piers’ eyes are blurring now with tears, everything in the world narrowing down to that ocean blue gaze and that white-toothed smile and the absolute knowledge that Raihan would hurt him—them?—only as much as they plead for.

Or to be Raihan, above Piers, who has such a tiny little body and yet is capable of taking so much and giving it back with twice the fervor. Leon groans as he projects the feeling of Piers’ pulse racing under his fingertips, the savage delight of taking him without restraint, knowing that everything is being offered up and all he has to do is claim it. That he’s trusted to be harsh, or gentle. Sweet and romantic or demanding and domineering. That Piers will give him everything and sob for more on his fading breath.

Raihan’s forearm flexes, and Piers gives another choked noise, his eyes rolling back into his head until the whites of his eyes are visible for just a brief moment and—okay, that’s too far, right? He’s sure to bruise, sure to choke, what if—

“Raihan, stop, what if he passes out?” Leon says, his hand coming up to Raihan’s shoulder and breaking the spell of him staring down at Piers. But his expression only turns warm and casual, almost alarming in the incongruence with the tension defining the rest of his body.

A faint snort echoes out of him, and Piers’ hips buck upwards hard, frantic in trying to get more of him into his body.

“Nah, he won’t. Our little rockstar,” he pauses to grab Piers’ hip, pulling him into every thrust, primal and needful “Can take it. Needs it. He needs it, Lee, to be taken to the fucking edge, because that’s what makes him get off the hardest. When you push him like the pretty little slut he is, he’ll cum for you.” Under him, Piers is writhing, and his eyes are nothing but desperate even as his face turns red, mouth hung open in a way that has gone from wanting to obscene. “Isn’t that right, treasure?”

Piers can’t make a sound, but all at once, Leon jumps when he feels a hand clutching at his own. Trembling, calloused fingers wrapping around his own and drawing him into this. Reassuring him.

“You should feel how tight he’s squeezing me, Leon. Fuck, he’s so goddamn beautiful, his guts feel like heaven, can’t wait for you to do this too—“ Raihan’s own words are getting rougher and Piers’ varnished nails are biting into his wrist, tangled with cobweb-thin strands of hair.

On the spur of the moment, Leon’s free hand slides between them and wraps around Piers’ cock, pumping him once, twice, and then Raihan releases his throat.

Piers’ back bows off the bed entirely with the force of his orgasm, a soundless wail on his lips as he tries to scream his release with no air.

“That’s it, cum for us, doing so fucking good—“ Raihan snarls, the sweetness of his words belied by the hunger of his tone. Piers is spilling across his fist, thick wetness dripping across the back of his knuckles as he cums again and again, more and harder than Leon would have thought possible. He twitches, and Raihan’s hands are now just to hold him in place, keeping him impaled on his cock as Piers whimpers and writhes. Divine, he’s utterly divine, they both are.

When the slender body finally falls limp, Raihan lets out a low whistle.

“Thanks for the helping hand there, mate. Think you blew his brains out.” Piers is limp underneath them, utterly wrung out, eyes unfocused as he gazes up at the ceiling and pants in quick, gasping breaths.

Then, after a moment, he blinks and groans loudly.

“Shit...holy fuck, the two of ya are gonna kill me...can’t feel my legs...” Leon almost wants to laugh with relief, and delight, and several other confused emotions. Arousal, too, because he’s still rock hard after watching Piers cum that hard.

“Think I’m in love,” Piers sighs, and Raihan gives another chuckle as he smooths his hand through the sticky mess on Piers’ stomach and chest. Then, in a stunningly dirty display, he lifts the mess on his fingertips up to his lips and sucks them clean.

“Well, lover boy, I think it’s time you show some appreciation to our Champ here. He’s been dripping for you for the past ten minutes while you were busy getting your rocks off. And I’m still not done, either.”

Piers rolls his eyes, and Leon doesn’t miss the faint shadow of fingertips lingering on his neck as he twists, leaning up and over until some of that hair brushes over the top of Leon’s thighs. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Now c’mon, Lee, guess we’re all abusing my throat tonight. Good thing my next concert ain’t for two weeks.”

Leon may be in a bit over his head, but that’s fine in the end.