Archive of Our Own

Tony knew he was drunk, but it wasn’t something that was really bothering him.  He’d been drunk for a while, to be honest, and it was good—it felt good to be sprawled out across Sunset’s white leather couch, looking at something she’d had on her coffee table.  It had transistors, and reminded him of something, something but just a little bit off, but whatever it was, it wasn’t breaking through the haze of scotch and the damp warmth of the hot tub earlier that was still clinging to his skin.  He felt a little overheated, and his hair was curling damply against the back of his neck, but it was a good kind of overheated.  The kisses Ty and Sunset had pressed over his body were a good kind of heat, too, and he swore he could still feel them when he thought about it, warm and tingling.

And hey, if he looked down at himself, he could see them, too, marks and a few bruises, raw, tender skin around one nipple and a purpling bruise above his hip, just above the line of his boxers—he thought it was from where Ty’s fingers had dug into his hip, but the bruise above his collarbone was from Sunset’s mouth for sure.  No wonder he still felt all hot and tingling.  Tony swallowed a little, ran his fingers down over the device in his hands to distract himself.  It really did seem familiar.  More than that, it was interesting.  And it kept blinking at him.  He kept thinking transistors were the key to something new, and when he thought about the schematics for some of the things he’d been working on for his dad—

“You’ve been looking at that old thing for a while now, Antony,” Ty’s voice, from over near the mini-bar.  “It can’t be that interesting.”

“It’s pretty interesting,” Tony said, pushing himself up a little, though he had a feeling the words came out languid and slow.  “Probably more interesting than whatever you guys are into over there.”

“A good mixed drink is always interesting, darling,” Sunset said, and he looked up to see her smiling at him, crossing the room back toward him with two drinks in her hand, both the cocktails she’d been mixing for herself all night.

“Sorry,” he said, “give me a straight shot, any day.”

“Tone here is a real man,” Ty said, lazily.  “The closest he gets to a mixed drink is whiskey and soda.  Like a good little business tycoon.” 

Tony scowled at him.  He pushed himself up a little more and shook his head, trying to clear it a little, as Sunset settled onto the sofa behind him.  She curled her arm around his shoulders and laid a kiss against his temple, soft and fluttery, before pressing a glass into his hand.

“Well, too bad,” she said.  “I made you one of mine.  Bottoms up, and stop worrying about that old thing.”  She pulled the device out of his hand and laid it on the table.

“Isn’t this a Tequila Sunset?” Tony asked, staring at the drink in his hand and blinking.  He grinned a little.

“It certainly is,” she told him.  “It takes a certain panache to make your signature drink one that shares your name, don’t you think?”

“Or it’s incredibly corny,” Ty said, crossing the room with loose strides.

“A self-made woman is never corny, Tiberius,” Sunset said, not quite snappily, and ran her fingernails down the back of Tony’s neck, with enough pressure that he felt their sharpness.

Tony turned toward her, letting her pull him in with that hand on the back of his neck and pressing a kiss against her ear, beneath the soft, perfumed fall of her hair.  Her mouth twisted at him, but fondly, and she ran through his hair, tugging it slightly.  “You’re both such boys,” she said.  “Drink it, baby, I made it just for you.”

Tony wasn’t really fond of sweet cocktails, but at least the tequila made it a little less cloying.  He tipped it back against his lips and took a long swallow as Ty sat down on the coffee table across from them, setting his own drink aside.  “You’re really putting it away tonight,” he said.

Tony winked at him.  “What,” he said, “afraid you won’t be able to keep up, Caesar?”

“I don’t drink girly drinks,” Ty said, leaning forward to rest a hand on Tony’s knee.  It felt very warm, and sent sparks skipping up Tony’s leg under his skin.  He was suddenly very aware that he was sitting there, already damp, in his boxers, and he spared a glace at Sunset, wondering if she’d noticed his reaction to the touch.  She didn’t seem to have, curling her tongue against an ice cube toward the top of her own glass.

Tony swallowed and wondered if all the experts were wrong and spontaneous human combustion was actually a thing.  He felt incredibly warm now, even warmer than before, hemmed in with Ty on one side, leaning in with his hand on his knee, and Sunset on the other, her breasts barely covered by her loose half-buttoned blouse, white and nearly see-through where it stuck to her damp skin, pressed soft against his back.  He took another sip of the drink.  Citrus and honey and fruit all over.  And the tequila, of course.  “And you don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.  “I wonder how that happened.”

“Correlation, not causation,” Ty said, leaning in even further, his hand skimming up Tony’s thigh with the movement.  “I could have one if I wanted one.”  He grinned at Sunset.  Tony’s stomach flip-flopped uncomfortably.  They kept looking at each other like that, and . . . well, he didn’t think he was the jealous type, not really, but he knew perfectly well that he was lucky to be with Sunset as it was, and Ty was so much more—well, more, sometimes.  More charming, more flashy, he didn’t know what it was, but Tony sometimes felt . . . well, like iron, next to Ty’s gold, even when he beat him, even when he won.  Which was a dumb metaphor, and he was drunk.  He sipped a little more of his drink anyway.

It was a stupid amount of relief to him when Sunset’s next move was to slid her arm around him more solidly, curling it around his side to run her palm over his chest and pull him into her.  “Well, it’s good,” he said, even though it wasn’t, really, and it sounded stupid, even to his own ears.  He played it off, lifting the drink toward Ty.  “You should try thinking outside the box sometime.”

Ty just smirked at him and put his other hand on his other knee, sliding his thumb along his skin, then cupping his palm under the curve of it.  Tony’s breath caught at those hot little skitters under his skin, worse this time.  He’d been pressed up between them in the hot tub, too, an arm around both sets of shoulders and his scotch in one hand, and things had gotten pretty heated there for a while before Ty had splashed him in the face and it had degenerated into rough-housing while Sunset shook her head at them.  Eventually she’d shoved both of them under the water and told them to get out of the hot tub and come back to the bar.  And so Tony had ended up here, on the sofa with transistors, trying to catch his breath, while the other two mixed drinks.

“I’ll see about trying that, Antony,” Ty said, a smirk on his lips, and there was something in the way he said it, some deep, smoky curl of meaning, that had Tony’s stomach twisting with heat in response.  He swallowed.  He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do here—if responding to Ty’s flirting would be all right or not.  He didn’t want to mess things up with Sunset, but she knew he’d had a . . . a thing with Ty, before, that was part of the reason she’d said she wanted to meet him, and how they’d ended up naked in a hot tub at her place at all.  Sunset stroked his side, running her fingernails down over his chest now, and Tony shivered.

“You shouldn’t give your competition advice, baby boy,” Sunset said, turning her head to press a kiss, wet and chill from the ice, just under his ear.  Tony had to struggle not to shiver all over, and shifted to curl his arm around her slim waist in return, to pull her closer.

“Hey,” he said, mildly annoyed at the nickname.  “Come on, sweetheart, don’t call me that.”

She smiled at him and traced her fingertips down the curve of his jaw.  “What am I supposed to call you?” she asked.  “Remember, I am the older woman, here. You are my baby.”

Tony made a face at that explanation, but he supposed he couldn’t object to that.  He leaned in and kissed her when she tilted his jaw forward, toward her.  “Mmm,” she said, warm, stroking her fingers back into his hair again.

Ty squeezed his thigh.  “Besides,” he said.  “Can’t be a prodigy without getting some teasing about it, T.  You are young.  Here I thought that was the whole point.”

Tony frowned at him, pulling away from the kiss.  “I’m not that young,” he said.  “Not that much younger than you, anyway.”

“Younger enough,” Ty said, smirking again.

“Oh, no,” Sunset said.  “Tony’s all grown up now.”  She reached up, ran her finger over the mustache just above Tony’s lips, then over his mouth.  “Especially with this.  So dashing and adult.”

“Sunset,” Tony said, a little pained, and she just tapped her lacquered fingernail against his lips, so he pressed a little kiss to the pad of it.

“Yeah, I noticed you have a full-on caterpillar now,” Ty said, and he was still smirking, damn it.  “Just like dear old dad, right?”

“Not on your life,” Tony told him, rolling his head back around to look straight at him.  “I wear it a hundred times better than he does.”

“Sure, you do, baby,” Sunset said in a low purr, already running her hand back down over his chest.  Her fingers pinched at the tender skin of his nipple, trailed down in sharp lines to press into the bruise at his side.  Tony tried very hard not to flinch—flinching wasn’t sexy at all.  “Mmm,” she said, “you’re all marked up already.”

“Maybe a little,” Tony said, and hoped his laugh hadn’t sounded too awkward.  He was always careful about leaving marks on Sunset, unless she asked him to, which hadn’t happened very much, and he’d been a little wary of touching Ty too much, since he wasn’t quite sure where he was supposed to be standing with him, but he still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so much more marked up than them, anyway.

“Tony always marked up easy,” Ty murmured, and Tony looked back at him, blinked, in surprise.  “Didn’t you, Tony?” Ty said, even as he reached forward and took Tony’s glass out of his hand, turning it around so he could drink out of it from the same place Tony had, where the sugar on the rim was already gone from the touch of his mouth.  He made a face.  “Mmm, no, too sweet,” he said.

“You should see me after a football game,” Tony said, trying to play it off light again.

Ty laughed a little.  “I still can’t believe you play football,” he said.

Sunset bit lightly at Tony’s ear.  “Me neither,” she said, skimming her hand up his chest to touch her fingertip to his chin, then his nose.  “And I wish he would stop.  He’s going to get his pretty nose all broken, and there where would we be?”

“I’m not going to get my nose broken,” Tony said, exasperated.

“I think you’d look fine with a broken nose,” Ty said, setting the glass down and picking up the device Tony had been looking at earlier, tilting his head to glance at it.  He picked it up.

“You would,” Tony muttered.  “Hey, Sunset, what is that thing?”  It really had been interesting.  He leaned forward, looking at it again, framed between Ty’s big hands.

“It’s just an old piece of tech, sweetie,” Sunset said, tracing shapes down his back.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“I like tech, you know that,” he said.  “I’m a tech guy.  And you’re doing something amazing with transistors here.  I’d love to take it apart and look at it.”  Ty looked up at him, and so he kept going, only realizing once he was into it that he’d been rambling for some time, with hand gestures and everything.

Ty was smirking again, and put the device aside.  “You and your transistors, Tony,” he said.

“He’ll go on about them at the slightest provocation,” Sunset said, sitting up and draping herself over Tony’s shoulders again, curling one hand around his biceps and turning his face toward her with his other hand again.  “You have better things to do with your mouth than ramble on about transistors, baby,” she said, her voice low and husky, and kissed him.

He wasn’t quite ready for it, still half-turning to reply to Ty, but he did his best to respond, to kiss her with all the skill he’d managed to acquire, hot and slick.  He curled one arm around her shoulders and leaned in—and was surprised when he felt Ty skim his hands up his legs, run one hand up over his chest.  He jerked, a little, but Sunset just drew him back into the kiss with both hands, not letting him pull away, and so he leaned into it again, sucking lightly at her bottom lip before slipping his tongue back into her mouth.  He could feel her fingernails digging into his shoulder.  He was feeling hot all over again, dizzy, and suddenly he was really feeling the mixture of the tequila with the scotch from earlier.  He could feel the arm of the sofa against his back, soft leather against his bare skin. 

He wasn’t quite certain what to do, but Sunset wasn’t complaining about Ty touching him like that—or had she not noticed?  But then Ty was thumbing at his nipples, nuzzling at the place where his shoulder met his neck, nipping at his skin, and there was no way she hadn’t noticed that.  Tony wasn’t that absorbing a kisser.  But her hand was tight at the back of his neck now, and she hadn’t moved away, so—Tony ran his hand down her side, let his fingers slip just under her blouse, and she made a hungry noise and leaned into him.

He was really trapped between them now, the warmth of Ty’s torso radiating into him from where he was leaning into Tony, Sunset’s breasts grazing his chest, the arm of the sofa against his back, and normally that might have bothered him—at a party, it would have, he’d have pushed them away, made an easy joke about needing more alcohol for that and used the excuse of making drinks to put him in a different position—but they were his friends, and the little frisson of discomfort he’d half expected didn’t even run down his spine. 

He just wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that Sunset wasn’t just comfortable flirting with Ty in front of him—because that might have just been to make him jealous, you never knew—but apparently Ty coming onto him in front of her was fine as well.  But he still felt all right tipping his head back into Sunset’s hand as she curled her fingers in his hair and Ty bit harder at the muscle in his shoulder, still teasing at his nipple with his other hand.  Normally that didn’t do much for Tony at all, but that one had been sensitized enough from the attention they’d paid it earlier that the raw skin sent little sparking jolts of sensation through him, and he shivered.  A moment later Ty’s other hand landed on his crotch, palming him through the damp, clingy fabric of his boxers, one thumb stroking along the skin just above his waistband, and a wave of hot pleasure rolled through Tony’s body, leaving him gasping and feeling dizzy, his head fuzzing with it.  He arched up into Ty’s touch, and Ty grinned and bit the side of his neck, but his hand left Tony’s groin a moment later to settle over Tony’s fingers against Sunset’s side, skimming up over them to travel over her breast, cupping the curve of it.

“Mmm,” Sunset said again, and pulled away from Tony, turning her head toward Ty.  Tony gasped for breath, wiping his mouth and staring at them, a little dazed, as Sunset leaned in and Ty kissed her, hot and intense.  That was . . . well, it was hot, but it was also . . . .

“Hey, um, guys, what’s going on?” Tony said.  What are you doing, Caesar, she’s my girlfriend, remember? was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew what they’d say if he said that—

They kept kissing, for a moment, Sunset’s other hand moving to the back of Ty’s neck, and only slowly pulled away, but then Ty’s hand shifted to Tony’s hip and squeezed—a little hard, but Tony wasn’t complaining.  “What the matter,” he said, “getting a little jealous, Antony?”  He turned back toward Sunset.  “Is he always this possessive?”

“Hmm,” she said, and smiled.  “Not always.”  She rested a hand on Tony’s shoulder, stroking one finger from the sensitive skin behind his ear down his neck.  It both scratched and tingled, and one of those shivers went through Tony again, especially with Ty’s hand still tight on his hip.  He felt amazingly breathless.  “Don’t worry, Tony,” she murmured against his ear.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Don’t you know a set-up for a threesome when you see one?”

“Apparently not,” Ty said, with that smirk back on his lips.

“I’m not worried,” Tony said quickly.  “I just—” he blinked.  “A threesome?  Really?”  Okay, he had to admit he hadn’t even thought about that.  He sure hadn’t been expecting it.  Really . . . hadn’t been expecting it.

Sunset laughed.  “Yes, baby,” she said, stroking her finger down the line of his shoulder now.  “A threesome.  You’re familiar with the concept?”

Tony was too taken aback to scowl at her.  “Well, yes, of course, but . . .” he stopped, took a moment to get past his initial surprise.  “You’d be okay with that?”

“Clearly,” Sunset said, laughing again, her mouth curved with amusement.

Well, that made all of this make a lot more sense.  And . . . okay, he could go with that.  Ty was certainly hot, and if she wanted the two of them to give it a shot, he couldn’t blame her.  And a threesome was . . . better than playing the jealousy game, at least.

Though if Ty gave her more pleasure than Tony did, Tony wasn’t sure what he’d do—die of shame, maybe?  But there was no way to back out of something that was practically every fantasy he’d ever had, not without seeming like he was scared.  And he wasn’t scared.  Definitely not.

“Sure,” he said.  “That sounds like fun.”  He grinned at Ty.  “You want us both to show you a good time?  We can do that.  Though I’m warning you, it’s not going to be much of a contest.”

Ty ran his hand down his thigh, got his hand under Tony’s calf and lifted his leg so he could squeeze his foot.  “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Antony,” he murmured, looking down at his own hand as he skimmed it back up over Tony’s shin.

“What?” Tony asked, looking back at Sunset in confusion.  She laughed again and trailed her hand back up into his hair, leaning in to trace her fingers over his jaw again.

“Tiberius is right,” she said.  “I was thinking you would be the lucky one, darling.”

“Me?” Tony said, and it wasn’t a yelp, it wasn’t.

“You’d like that, right, Tony?” Ty said, and it was his big, wide lion’s smile that he gave Tony, then.  “All the attention on you.”

“I . . .”  Tony swallowed.

“Besides,” Ty continued, settling his hand back onto Tony’s thigh, pushing his legs apart slightly, “you’re the one who’s had sex with both of us, aren’t you?”

“It’s not my fault you can’t get a girlfriend,” Tony told him, a little unsettled by the position that left him in, sprawled half over the sofa and half Sunset with his legs spread apart.  In his boxers.

“We went over this already,” Ty said, both hands on Tony’s thighs now.  Sunset was still playing with his hair, stroking the side of Tony’s face.  “Not can’t.  After all, I scored with you, didn’t I?”

“That’s a little bit different,” Tony said, trying hard not to sound offended.  “I’m not a girlfriend.”

Ty just winked at him, the little shit.  “I know,” he said, and palmed Tony’s crotch again.  “At least, you’ve got the equipment not to be.  So why don’t you stop whining like a little girl?”

“Hey, I’m not—” Tony started, and he was going to say whining, because he didn’t whine, thank you very much.

But before he could finish, Sunset was talking, turning his face toward her again.  “I don’t know,” she said, “I like it when he whines.”

“I don’t,” Tony said, frustrated, “whine,” but that probably sounded petulant, he thought uncomfortably—and then she ran her fingernail up his cock, nuzzling in and biting the lobe of his ear.  The sharp feeling of pleasure bit into him, not quite pain but too edged for pleasure, and he gasped, his cock hardening almost instantly beneath her touch.

“Oh, hey, look at that,” Ty said.  “I knew the idea would turn you on.  Exciting, isn’t it?  Both of us, all over you?”

Tony wanted to say something snarky about it having a lot more to do with Sunset’s hand on his cock, but then she was kissing him, and it was lost in a surprised huff of air.  He was leaning up into the kiss before he even thought, eager for the touch of her lips to his through the haze of pleasure that came from her hand lightly stroking his cock through his boxers.  She laid her palm flat on his cheek, turning his head further into the kiss, and then skimmed her other hand up his chest.  But Ty’s hand, big and warm, was there a moment later, curling around him, and he gasped again.  The pounding of his own heart sounded oddly loud in his ears.  Ty’s hand felt good, he couldn’t deny it.  He shifted his hips up into it instinctively.  His head was spinning, all over the place.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ty said, his thumb swirling over the tip of Tony’s cock, warm even through the fabric of his boxers.  “You like this, just look at you.”

“Mmm,” Tony said, against Sunset’s lips, and she smiled, and then she was kissing him again.  He wasn’t sure how long it went on for, it could have been forever, or a few seconds, he was too hazy and warm to tell, but when they pulled away, he was panting for breath.  “I—” he said.  “What?”

“You like it,” Ty said.  “C’mon, T, don’t try to deny it.  I can feel how hard you are.”

Sunset’s fingers were still stroking lazily through his hair.  Tony let himself lean into the touch.

And Ty was right.  He was hard.  Hard as a rock.  So . . . yeah, he must like the idea.  And it was hot, wasn’t it?  Just that, just then . . . it wasn’t how he normally liked to do things, he liked to be a little more involved, but . . . but it must have been doing something for him, the idea, with Sunset’s hand in his hair and Ty’s hand on his cock he was so breathless and hazy with desire his brains were practically leaking out his ears.

Or maybe that was the booze.  He wasn’t sure—either way, he felt pretty good right now.  “Sure,” he said, and his voice sounded hazy, too.  “I can . . . I can make it good for both of you.”

“Of course you can, honey,” Sunset said against his ear.  “You will.”

“Tony’s generous like that,” Ty said.  He leaned in, and then Sunset was pulling back, and Ty’s mouth was on his, coaxing Tony’s mouth open, his head back.  He felt a vague wave of pleasure that Ty would say that, reaching up with one hand to wrap his arm around Ty’s back.

They kissed for a while longer, Sunset running her hand down over Tony’s chest, before she leaned in to press a kiss to Ty’s shoulder.  That left Tony caught between the both of them, her breasts pressing into his back, his chest against Ty’s, Ty’s mouth hungry on his.  Sunset scratched her fingers down Tony’s chest, and he gasped, pulling away from Ty.

“Let’s move things along to the bed,” Sunset said, “don’t you think so?”

“Sure,” Tony mumbled, and Ty laughed.

“Yes,” he said, “why not?  More room to play in there, right?”  He patted Tony’s hip and pulled back, moving off.  It took Tony a moment to get to his feet, and he stumbled once he was there.

“Oh,” he said, with a bit of a laugh, “oops.”

“Drunker than you thought, Tone?” Ty said, warm, and then his arm was around Tony’s waist.  “Don’t worry, we’ll get you there.”

“Yes,” Sunset said, pressing a kiss to Tony’s neck so that her hair swung forward and brushed against his chest.  “We will.” 

Tony didn’t really need that much help, which he wasn’t sure if he’d said out loud or not—he definitely didn’t need as much help as Ty gave him, but getting into another wrestling match over it seemed pointless, so he let himself lean into Ty as they headed for the bedroom.  Sunset broke off on the way there, with a wave of her hand and a murmur of, “Just making sure we won’t get thirsty,” and Ty watched her go appreciatively.  Tony elbowed him in the ribs.

“Hey,” he said.

“Not bad, Antony,” Ty said, and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah?” Tony said, and smiled, fondly.  “Yeah, she’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Ty laughed.  “Oh, yeah,” he said.  “She’s certainly something else.”  He nudged Tony into the bedroom, then over onto the bed.  Tony sat down when he urged him to and leaned in, skimming his hands up over Ty’s sides, licking a stripe up the middle of his chest, eager to get a chance to participate a bit more this time.  Ty sank his hand into Tony’s hair and tangled his fingers, tugging slightly, as Tony kissed and sucked his way across his chest, nibbling and worrying at one nipple, teasing with his hands over Ty’s chest in ways he knew he liked.  “Mmm, that’s good, baby,” Ty said, “that’s nice.”  His hand tightened a little in Tony’s hair.  Emboldened by the praise, warm with it, Tony leaned in further, flattening his hands against Ty’s sides, tasting the chlorine on his skin, the salt taste of clean sweat.  After a moment, Ty huffed out a laugh, reached down and caught his chin with one hand, pulling him up.  “That little mustache of yours tickles,” he said, tracing his thumb along it.

“Yeah?” Tony said, breathless and still rather mentally foggy.  His lips felt wet, and he wasn’t sure if what Ty had said was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Mmm, yeah, I have to say I like it,” Ty said, smirking, and Tony grinned in triumph.  Ty stroked his thumb over it again, then pressed it down against Tony’s slick lips, in between them, and Tony sucked obediently at it, swiping his tongue over the pad of the thumb, curling it against the nail.

“You’re so good at this,” Ty said, his eyes heavy-lidded and lustful as they swept over Tony’s body.  “Get a lot of practice?”

“Enough,” Tony said, letting Ty’s thumb slip out of his mouth. 

“I bet that Sunset’s taught you a few things,” Ty said, grinning.  “She seems like the type who wants a performance just so.”

“A few,” Tony admitted.  “I’ve been around.  You know?”  He skimmed his hands up Ty’s sides, around to his back, then leaned in, pressed a kiss against Ty’s hipbone, just above the waistline of his boxers.  “I thought the point of all this involved getting naked at some point,” he said.

“Oh, look who’s eager now,” Ty said, but he didn’t move to pull down his boxers.  Tony shrugged, figuring that was his cue, and slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband, pulling them down and following them down Ty’s thigh with his lips, Ty’s hand still heavy on the back of his head.  He pulled them down past Ty’s knees and they dropped to the floor and Ty stepped out of them, even while Tony sucked and kissed at the skin just above his knee.  Tony was vaguely considering offering him a blowjob, just to get started, when he heard Sunset come back into the room, the click of her heeled sandals, and looked up.

She set three shot glasses down on the nearby nightstand, still holding a bottle of tequila by the neck as she cocked her hip and rested the back of her hand on it, looking at them.  In her half unbuttoned, nearly transparent shirt and tiny little skirt, she probably shouldn’t have looked as commanding as she did, her hair swinging behind her as she looked them both over, smiling, but the way she looked at them both made Tony feel naked even in his boxers.  Maybe more naked that he was still in his boxers, somehow.  Ty looked so comfortable nude, and Tony felt awkward still covered by his underwear.  “That’s a pretty sight,” she said.  “You two do make a lovely visual contrast, you know that?”

Gold and cast iron, Tony thought, again, and sighed to himself.

“What,” Ty said, and he was grinning, “darkness and light?”

“Something like that,” Sunset said.  She set down the bottle next to the glasses, crossed over to the bed, and for a second she was too close, and something tangled, anxious, in Tony’s stomach, but then Ty moved away so that she could sink her hand into Tony’s hair, stroking her fingers through it, and that was better, easier, the touch to his hair soothing somehow.  He looked up at her, leaning in to press a kiss to her stomach, the little sliver of skin left uncovered by the hem of her blouse, and she smiled at him.  “Aren’t you going to take off my clothes, too?” she asked, and Tony just nodded, bringing his fingers up to get started on the few buttons left fastened on her shirt, kissing and caressing the skin it revealed, running his thumbs over her breasts before he leaned up to cover them with his mouth.  She sighed and sank her fingers further into his hair, holding his mouth close against her chest as he worked it over her breasts, her nipples.  Ty tapped his hip, and Tony put both hands on Sunset’s waist and shifted upward a bit obediently, feeling Ty tug his boxers down even as he got his own hands on Sunset’s skirt.  By the time Sunset let go of him, he was entirely naked, and Sunset was standing there in her open blouse and blue silk panties, her breasts heavy and full and flushed from the attentions of his mouth, her nipples perked.  “That was good, Tony,” she said, her breath heaving just a bit, and he smiled and laid a kiss against her collarbone.  She petted her hand through his hair just a little more, then pushed at one shoulder.  “Now down on your back,” she said.

“Really?” Tony asked, but he lay back, propping himself on both elbows.

“We both need a way to get at you,” Ty said, from where he was sitting on the bed.  He reached over and squeezed one of Tony’s nipples.  “You’re an engineer, you figure it out.”

“I can think of at least four positions that don’t end up with me on my back,” Tony pointed out.  He didn’t say that all of them sounded like more fun, but he was definitely thinking it.

Sunset squeezed his knee, lightly.  “Stop making it complicated, Tony, honey,” she said.

“Sorry,” Tony said with a grin.  “Can’t help it.  I’m a complicated guy.”

“Yes,” Sunset said, “and sometimes it’s cute.”  The implication was obvious, even to him, drunk as he was—and it wasn’t right now.

“So,” he said, trying to smooth it over, hey, he got the idea, “how’re we going to play this?”  He hoped he didn’t seem too nervous.  He wanted to do well at this, silly as that sounded, but, well, they both clearly knew what they were doing, while he didn’t really, and he really did want to show them a good time.  He’d been good enough to attract both of them, after all, but if he screwed this up, they’d both know he wasn’t as hot stuff as he pretended to be.

So he couldn’t screw it up.  He folded one arm and propped it behind him to lean back on it, letting the other one fall to the bed.  He very carefully didn’t let it knot in the sheet.

“Well,” Sunset said, “you’re going to lie there, on your back.”  She leaned in, curled her fingers around his cock, and stroked him easily, once, twice, making him gasp and give a brief cry of pleasure with the surprise, arching up into it.  Ty’s hands were very warm on his shoulders as he leaned in and kissed him, swallowing the noise Tony made with his own mouth.  For a moment it was too much, he was too close, again, but then he sucked on Tony’s tongue, and that feeling of tightening anxiety faded beneath a wash of heat, and Tony leaned up into it.

“That’s pretty, too,” Sunset said, “you two are good at kissing each other.  Lot of experience?”  She let go of Tony’s cock, let him fall back to the bed, and leaned over them to run her clean hand through Ty’s hair, ruffling it.

Ty licked at Tony’s lips and pulled back.  “A bit,” he said.  Sunset squeezed the back of his neck, and he shrugged her off.  “Right, T?”

“I told you,” Tony told Sunset, and looked at Ty, hoping he was still all right with the fact that Tony had told Sunset about their history together—he’d said he was, earlier, before they’d gotten here, but you know, things changed.

“Yes, you told me all about how experienced you were,” Sunset said, smiling down at him.

“I didn’t put it quite like that,” Tony said, uncomfortable, because he knew perfectly well that compared to them he really wasn’t, and sure enough, Ty laughed.

“Experienced, Antony, really?” he said.  “Experienced at giving head, maybe.”

“Oh, come on, Ty, I didn’t say that,” Tony said.

“He is good at giving head,” Sunset said on a smile, and sat down beside him, curling her arm around his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him.  Tony leaned up into it, putting his arm around her in return, across her shoulders, careful not to pull at her hair, as he stroked the back of her neck, ran his tongue over hers.

“You’re welcome,” Ty said.  He got up, patted Tony’s knee, caught his foot as he kicked out at him playfully.  He stroked his finger down the sole, and Tony tried his hardest not to squirm, before he moved it off to the side, spreading Tony’s legs apart to settle in between them.

So was that how they wanted it?  Tony did his best not to let his shoulders tense up, a little bemused at the thought even through the haze of alcohol.  He wasn’t quite sure he liked the idea, entirely—and then what would he be doing for Sunset?  Did she want him to fuck her, or . . . but no, that wasn’t going to work.  He’d have to have his feet flat on the bed to have any leverage, and if Ty was going to be in there, thrusting, it was just going to be awkward and probably impossible to get any kind of good rhythm for her, and where would her legs go, anyway?  So she had to want him to eat her out, and well, he did like doing that, if that was what she wanted.  But still, the idea of that position made him just a little uncomfortable.  He took a deep breath and blew it out.

Sunset nipped at his bottom lip, and Tony jumped a bit, enough that Ty caught at his ankles, pulled them back down.  “Sorry,” he blurted.

“You were a million miles away,” Sunset said, sounding miffed.

“What?” Tony said.  “Yeah.  Yeah, sorry.”

“He does that,” Ty said.  “You just have to keep his attention.  Right, babe?”

“I’m sorry,” Tony told Sunset.  “I didn’t mean to wander off.  I was just thinking about how this is gonna work.”

“Engineers,” she said, and rolled her eyes.  “You’re thinking too much, Tony.”  She carded one hand through his hair.  “Not that I don’t love that brilliant head of yours, but try to keep it in the game, can’t you?”

“It was,” Tony protested.  “But uh, yeah.  Sorry.”

“My kissing you is a lot more interesting than anything else you’ve got going on,” Sunset purred, leaning over him again, and Tony looked up at her, his breath catching—it was hard to disagree with that. 

Sunset bit at his bottom lip, worrying it until it was tender and almost sore, then slipped her tongue into his mouth, and he groaned, opened his mouth eagerly for her.  Ty made him jump a second later, sliding his hands up over Tony’s thighs to cup one palm against his balls.  He rolled them a little before he ran two fingers up along the underside of Tony’s cock, then curled his hand around it.  The pleasure traveled up Tony’s body, sparking and bright through the warm alcohol haze, and he gasped dizzily into Sunset’s mouth.  She just curled her fingers in his hair and kissed him even more deeply, stroking one hand down over his shoulder, down his neck. 

She kept him there for a long moment, stroking down over his shoulder and collarbone, while Ty stroked his dick, played with his balls, and Tony relaxed into the pleasure of it, let himself sink down into it.  It could have been a long time before Sunset pulled back and let her fingers rest against his lips, stroking them gently over his mouth.  He tried to kiss them, soft and affectionate, eager, and she smiled at him before she was leaning away, just for a moment, and Tony blinked, confused—but then she was back, pressing another kiss into his mouth, pushing him back into the pillows again, and he went willingly, giving way beneath her.  He was about to lift his arms to wrap them around her shoulders when she pressed lightly on his wrist, holding it to the bed.  A second later he felt the slither of silk around it, and then it tautened, went tight.  He blinked again, a little confused, shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Sunset,” he said, “what?”

“Shh, baby,” she said, and kissed him again.  “Don’t worry.  You’ll enjoy this.”

“What’s this?” Tony asked, and he could feel that creeping sense of alarm coming back now, breaking through the haze.  His wrist lay where Sunset had put it, above his head—for some reason it didn’t occur to him to tug it at, try to work it free.

“Oh, come on, Tony,” Ty said, and squeezed his hip again, pinched it lightly.  “It’s just a little bondage.  Don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Tony said automatically.  He took a deep breath.  He wasn’t . . . right?  He couldn’t help it, though—bondage, Ty had said?  He did tug on his wrist now, curled it, tried to slip it free.  It didn’t come loose, but then, he was clumsy, slow with the alcohol haze.  “Sunset,” he said, turning his head toward her.  “What’s this about?”

“I told you,” she said lightly.  “Something fun.  I thought we could try something new.”  She smiled at him, stroked her finger down over his nose, his mouth.  “You’re game, right?”

Tony bit the inside of his cheek.  Being on his back was bad enough, he wanted to say.  This was an order of magnitude worse. 

He couldn’t say that, though.  It would sound whiny, and honestly pretty pathetic, for one thing.  This was what they wanted, and—and yeah, he wasn’t going to freak out about a little bondage, was he?  He was Tony Stark, he could take more than that before he got scared off.  Maybe they wanted to see how far he would go—or maybe they were just having fun, and he was being stupid, and paranoid, and a wet blanket, which was far more likely.  They both knew he was the inexperienced one here.  He couldn’t be the one to make that any more obvious. 

Besides, it wasn’t like they’d brought out chains and leather.  He glanced up at his wrist, and yeah—it had felt like a tie, it was Ty’s, from earlier, they’d taken off their clothes to go fool around in the hot tub and left them in Sunset’s room.  Ty’s blue silk tie stood out against the olive tone of his skin.

So yeah.  It wasn’t a big deal, was it?  Just a tie.  Come on, Stark, get it together.

“If you’re not freaking out, stop tugging on it, babe,” Ty said, and squeezed the top of his thigh with his other hand.

“Oh, Tony,” Sunset said with a sigh.  “Here I thought you were up for anything.  Is it too much?  We don’t have to do it like this if you can’t take it.”

“No, no,” Tony said quickly, and stilled his wrist with an effort.  “I’m fine.  I’m fine.  This is great.  Yeah.  Let’s do it like this.”  He blew his breath out again.  “I’m good with it.”  He tried to grin at Sunset, brightly.  “It’ll be fun.”

“That’s more like the Tony Stark I know,” she said with a smile, and pushed his hair back out of his eyes with one hand, stroking it down the side of his face.  Ty chuckled, still with both hands on Tony’s thighs, and Tony bit the inside of his lip again, but he laid out his other wrist, let Sunset pick up his own tie from earlier and loop it around it, tying it to the bedpost.  She was good with knots, and Tony could already tell he wouldn’t just be able to tug himself free.  He guessed that was the point.  Ty was stroking his legs now, almost absently, and Tony lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling a minute, trying to focus on that, trying to calm himself down.  “Tiberius, get my pantyhose, won’t you?”  Sunset said, over him, and Tony blinked again, sank his teeth into the meat of his bottom lip and said nothing.  But he couldn’t help thinking it—what was she going to use that for?

Ty patted Tony’s knee and leaned away.  “You can call me Ty,” he said, laughing.  “No need to be formal at this stage of things.  Right, T?”

It did seem a little ridiculous at this point.  “I think we’re all fairly casual with one another by this point, yes,” Tony said dryly, giving a pointed look to his bound wrists, spread apart, each bound to one of the bedposts.

Sunset just laughed, trailing her fingers along over Tony’s knee, as she reached out and took her stockings from Ty.  “I’ll call you what I want to call you, Mr. Stone,” she said, still laughing.  She pinched the skin just above Tony’s knee lightly and laughed when he jerked a little.  “Mr. Stark.”

“Mr. Stone was my father,” Ty said, on a chuckle.  “If it’s a choice between that and Tiberius, I’d rather have the Roman emperor.”

“Oh, I see,” Sunset said.  She looped the pantyhose around one of Tony’s ankles, he could feel the whispery slide of the material, and everything in him seemed to tighten up.  “Is that where the nicknames come from?”  She nodded back at Tony.

“Caesar and Antony,” he said, making a conscious effort to relax, to keep his voice light, teasing.  “Yes.  What else was he supposed to do with a name like Tiberius?”  He grinned at Ty.  “Had to make a joke out of it before anyone else did.”

“You should never have let him put you in second place, dearest, even as a joke,” Sunset said, offhandedly, tying off the knot around his ankle.  She handed the stockings to Ty, who looped them around one bedpost, and knotted them, then moved to his other ankle, smirking.  “Though does that make me Cleopatra?” she smiled.  “I can’t say I mind the comparison.” 

“No,” Tony said, “it doesn’t.  Because you were with me first.  And . . . you’re with me.  Not with him.”

Sunset laughed at that.  “Yes, darling, of course,” she said.  She gestured at Ty.  “No, no, his legs will get sore like that,” she said.  “Pull him down a bit.”

Ty shrugged and looped one hand around Tony’s heel, put the other on his hip, and tugged him down.  Tony bit his cheek again to keep back a startled yelp as he slid down the bed, his heels slipping against the coverlet without any traction, spread out wide as his legs were already.  It pulled on his arms, too, and he ended up in the center of the bed, spread out uncomfortably.

It was a lot harder to ignore that he was tied down like this, that was for sure.  “Um,” he said.

“There, that’s better,” Sunset said, “isn’t it?”

Tony tried for a laugh and was afraid it came out sounding nervous.  “I’m not so sure,” he said.

Sunset patted his chest.  “You’ll thank me later,” she said.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Tony said, smiling at her to try to soften it.

“Tsk,” she said.  “No faith.”

“Tony appreciates results,” Ty said, tugging his legs further apart.  He looped the stockings around Tony’s other ankle, and then that one was tied to the bedpost, too, and it was getting hard to ignore how spread out he was in front of them.

“I do,” Tony said.  “I, uh.”

“What, Tone?” Ty asked.  He cupped the heel of Tony’s foot in his hand, lifted it off the bed to press a kiss to the hollow of his ankle, just above the knot tied around it.  “Getting nervous again?”

“No,” Tony said.  It wasn’t that.  He wasn’t . . . it was just.  “No.”

“I bet your buzz is fading by now,” Ty said.  “Sunset, give him a little more to drink.”

“We wouldn’t want you getting thirsty,” Sunset said, with a smile in Tony’s direction.  She traced her hand down Tony’s chest, ran a fingernail along his cock in a way that made him gasp and twitch up, then got up and reached for the bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

Maybe they were right.  Maybe he just needed to be more drunk for this.  Maybe that would help.  Make things easier.  Tony pushed himself up on his elbows as best he could, let Sunset tip his head back before she rested the shot glass against his lips, just for a moment before she poured it down his throat.  It burned, and in this position it was hard not to choke, but he’d done shots like this before, and he thought he could probably have done it in his sleep.  He swallowed and licked his lips, feeling the burn of the tequila over them. 

Sunset leaned in and kissed him, licking it off, tugging his head back with one hand in his hair and baring his throat.  The warmth of the alcohol kicked in soon enough, and Tony let her push him back down after the kiss was over and she pulled away, opened his mouth for her to pour just a little more down his throat even as he struggled to swallow with his head flat on the bed.  She didn’t give him the whole shot this time, but handed it to Ty, and he knocked the rest of it back.  He curled his tongue against the rim and sucked on it, grinning.  “There,” Sunset said, tousling Tony’s hair, “that’s better, isn’t it?”  Tony nodded, hazily, not wanting to argue, at least.  He certainly felt, well, warmer.

Tony had been hoping the alcohol would help—and it did, made things feel easier, slower, more relaxed—but he still felt his muscles tighten with alarm, his hands clench into fists around the silk that held them, as Ty settled back on the bed between his legs and patted Tony’s thigh.  “Oh, come on, Antony,” Ty said.

“What are you so nervous for?” Sunset said, running her hand up Tony’s chest, flicking a nipple in a way that made him jerk and twist away.  “You’ve done this plenty of times, haven’t you?  I thought you were so experienced.”

“Yes,” Ty said, and exchanged a look with Tony.  He laughed.  “Plenty of times.”

Tony swallowed.  He and Ty both knew that he didn’t have much experience outside of handjobs and blowjobs, not with another man.  He kept his mouth shut, hoping that if he did, Ty wouldn’t say anything more about it.  “Do you have lube?” he asked, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about.

Ty slapped the inside of his thigh, playfully, Tony thought, though it was hard enough to sting a bit.  “Yes, we have lube, princess,” he said, chuckling.

“Really, Tony, honey,” Sunset said, and laughed.  He could see her reach for the nightstand, open the top drawer, and toss a tube to Ty, who caught it, and squirted the glistening liquid onto his fingers, which he then waved in Tony’s direction.

“As requested,” he said, and rubbed his fingers together, warming it up.  Tony tried to conceal the breath that left him in relief, turning toward Sunset instead.  She was reclining on the bed beside him now, looking down at him, and he turned his head to press a kiss to her forearm, looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes.

“But what’ll I be doing for you?” he asked.

She smiled at that, running her fingers back through his hair, curling them against his cheek.  “Oh, don’t worry about that, baby,” she said.  “We’ll think of something for you to do.”

“I could do a lot more with my hands free,” he pointed out.  He kissed her wrist, this time.

She just smiled.  “That’s all right,” she said.  “This’ll be more fun.  Besides,” she tapped one finger against his lips.  “I like your mouth.  You’re a smart guy.”  She smiled, still stroking his cheek, letting him rest his cheek against her arm.  “You figure it out.”

“I know,” Tony said, his head feeling very warm, muzzy, “but—” but that was when Ty bent his leg, pushing it up—the pantyhose went tight around his ankle, but a moment later he was distracted from that by Ty rubbing his thumb over the entrance to Tony’s body, getting him wet and slick.  He pressed in, slightly, and Tony could feel himself tense, how his body resisted him, however he tried to relax.  Ty pressed his thumb inward a little more, then relented to just swirl it around over the surface, spreading the lube.

“Damn, you really do need to loosen up,” Ty said.  “You’re tighter than a virgin on prom night, T.”  He looked up at Sunset.  “Are you sure you gave him enough to drink?”

“’m all right,” Tony said.  He could hear how his words were slurring, and he took a deep breath.  “I’m . . . I’m all right.”

“Well, then relax, if you’re so all right,” Ty said.  “And open up.”  He tapped his finger against the sensitive skin of Tony’s hole.  “You sure you’ve done this before?”

“I . . . yeah,” Tony said.  That was right, wasn’t it?  He rubbed his face against his shoulder, took a deep breath, tilted his head back against the bed and blew it out.  He was being stupid.  They knew what they were doing.  They wouldn’t hurt him.  They were his friends, after all.  If he just did whatever they wanted, they’d make sure it was good for him—right?  He was being a dummy.  He was perfectly safe here.  He trusted them.  Didn’t he?  Or he’d never have let them put him in this position to start with.  “I’m fine,” he said.

“Of course you are,” Sunset said, confidently.  She leaned in to kiss him again, sucking on his wet, swollen bottom lip, running her hand up over his bound arm, and Ty pressed his thumb really into him.  Tony did his best to relax, not to tighten up, let himself just go limp against the bed—and it helped, Ty’s thumb pushed into him more easily this time.

“Hmph, that’s better,” Ty said.  A second later, it was a finger, and Tony squeezed his eyes shut tight and forced himself not to tense up.  He could do this.  It was mind over matter, right?  Yeah.  He could do this.  He leaned into Sunset a little more, hoping the way he was kissing her didn’t feel too desperate or needy.  That was the last thing he wanted.

Ty had big hands.  Big fingers.  Two fingers, now, and the stretch hurt no matter how Tony tried to relax, and he felt himself quiver, the tremor start in his stomach and travel all through him, up to his fingertips.  He bit back the sound that wanted to escape his lips, though.  That was something, right?

Sunset bit at his bottom lip, and he flinched, a little surprised, and then she was pressing him back, both shoulders against the bed.  He gasped into her mouth, feeling very dizzy, almost lost, disoriented.  He could feel himself stretching around Ty’s fingers, the feeling odd, uncomfortable, slick and too warm, with both Ty’s fingers inside him.

His cock would be warmer, though, wouldn’t it.  And . . . and a lot bigger.

Ty sank his fingers into him up to the second knuckle, twisted, and Tony huffed out a breath in surprise, the not-quite-pain of it.  He tried to bring his hands down, instinctively wanted to wrap them around Sunset’s waist, bring her closer, and was half surprised when they were brought up short almost immediately, held fast.  Right.  Bondage.  Tied up.  Silk, rubbing against the sensitive skin at the hollows of his wrists, but it was fine and soft, and he’d almost forgotten it was there with everything else going on.

Ty twisted his fingers, pushed them in up to the third knuckle now, and Tony’s breath shoved out of him on another gasp, more air leaving him as Ty spread them apart.  Sunset pulled back, kissed his forehead, and she and Ty were talking, but for a moment it seemed so difficult to focus, to follow what they were saying.  He licked his lips, opened his eyes, blinked them, and Ty twisted his fingers again, and oh, he was trying not to make noise.  Right.

“That’s right,” Ty was saying.  “That’s better.  Still tight as hell, but that’s fine, I like a little squeeze, right, Tony?”

Tony was opening his mouth to answer—maybe to point out that it was going to be more than a little squeeze at this rate, but then Sunset’s fingers were at his lips, pushing inside, and he sucked on them, obediently, rolling his tongue, twirling and twisted, hollowing his cheeks to provide some suction.  And that—that was easier, just to do that, suck on Sunset’s fingers and look up at her as she winked at him, even as Ty pulled his fingers out, then pushed three in, wet with lube.  He pushed them in and out once, cursorily, then pulled them away, and Tony really wasn’t sure that was going to be enough, Ty was big, he remembered that, and—Ty had his other knee up, now, pushing them apart.  “Spread ‘em,” he said.  “That’s it.  Give me some room to work here.”

Tony huffed out an anxious breath around Sunset’s fingers, but he did as requested, spreading his legs apart, and reminded himself that Ty and Sunset knew what they were doing, and he was trusting them, he trusted them.

Sunset pulled her fingers out of his mouth and traced his bottom lip with them, leaving it wet and messy, pressing her fingers in enough that his lip gave beneath them as she moved them along it.  “Don’t put runs in them now, darling,” she said, then scraped her fingernail over his bottom lip so that it stung a little.

“Uh, there’s gonna be,” Tony told her.  It was inevitable at this point, really—and as far as he could tell, pantyhose got runs just from breathing on them, anyway.  “Just so you know.”

Sunset rolled her eyes, tossed her head a little.  “Darling, stop being so practical all the time,” she said.  “That’s no fun.  Just play along.  It’s more fun when there’s a little bit of a threat—even if it’s not realistic, don’t you think?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say no, not really, that wasn’t his thing, but then he looked up at Sunset, and she was so gorgeous, and really, was he going to say no to her?  When they were here, having sex—having a threesome, and if that wasn’t supposed to be fantasy material, he wasn’t sure what was.  He wasn’t going to screw that up now and ruin it for himself—he definitely didn’t want to screw it up for her.  He wanted to do what she wanted, he wanted her to have a good time.

“Sure,” he said quietly, instead.

She smiled.  “That’s right,” she said.  “That’s a good boy.”

Tony bit his lip, dubious at that, about being called that at all.

“That’s my good boy,” she said, and shifted, moving to straddle him, resting her thighs on his shoulders.  She still had her turquoise silk panties on, Tony realized, but they were wet, he could see the dampness, could smell the desire from her this close, and he felt a bit of pride at that, even as Ty pushed his legs up—he was holding one of Tony’s ankles with one hand, the other had to be lining up his cock—and then pushed in.

“Fuck,” Tony swore, he couldn’t help it.  It hurt, not a horrible tearing pain, sure, but it was a—a lot, of stretch, and it ached, all heat and unyielding pressure, pushing into him.  It took all his efforts not to tense up, clench up around Ty’s length because he knew that would just make it hurt worse.

“That’s the idea, Antony, yeah,” Ty said, laughing, though his voice sounded warm and rough, a little husky, and Sunset laughed, too. Ty pushed in, further, and he tried not to moan, but he thought a low sound escaped his lips anyway.

“Relax, baby,” Sunset said, tapping her fingers against his cheek.

But he was relaxed, Tony wanted to say, this was as relaxed as it got with him, here, like this, but he knew, he knew that would sound like whining, and so he chewed on the inside of his cheek and bit the words back.  And who knew, he thought he was relaxed—he was trying so hard—but maybe he wasn’t doing a very good job, maybe he wasn’t trusting them enough.  He could feel how hard and fast his heart was beating, thumping against his ribs.

He bet Ty could feel it, too, around his cock.  Tony shifted his head, took another deep breath, tried to calm down.  “God, you’re tight,” Ty grunted, then moved, shifted nearly out and pushed in again, that had to be what he was doing, though all Tony really felt was the twinges of pressure and ache as his body shifted around him, tried to close up and then was thrust back into, thrust back open.  Just like he’d thought it would be, Ty’s cock was very, very hot, and it—it was strange.  He felt half-suspended in mid-air with one leg held over Ty’s shoulder and the other bent and spread so wide he had no leverage at all, and wow, Tony hoped it felt different for girls when he was fucking them, because . . . ouch, to be quite honest.  “You’re so tight,” Ty said.  “Jesus.  I’m going to break you open on my dick, T.  Fuck you loose.  You’re gonna feel me for days.  I’ll fuck you so open and slick I can slide right back on into you all easy.”

Tony knew he made a noise at that, of alarm or arousal or what he had no idea; his head was too heavy and warm, too thick to tell, but he swallowed it, pressed his lips together, tried not to gasp and moan too obviously.  But yeah, obviously Ty’s cock was—was breaking him open, like he’d said, spreading him far wider than his fingers had, splitting him open for it, and . . . .

But that was okay, maybe he could—he could learn from this, be a better lover for Sunset.  Right?  He was pretty sure he was going to let her ride him after this, the missionary position really wasn't doing it for him, at least—

“Tony,” Sunset said, and ran her finger down his nose.  “Focus in, darling.”

“I—I am,” Tony said, “I’m here.”

“Good,” Sunset said, and smiled, tossing her hair behind her shoulder.  “That’s what I wanted to hear.  You know what to do, don’t you?”

Ty pushed into him again, and Tony’s breath caught on a groan at the burning stretch.  “Yeah,” Ty said.  “Pay attention.”  Tony blinked, tried to clear his head, took a deep breath, because he did, he got the picture.  He didn’t just want to lie here, anyway.  He was supposed to be making this good for them, not just lying on his ass like a, a blow-up sex doll.  He had his pride to consider, after all, and he wanted this to be good.  He wanted them to want to do this with him again.

Didn’t he?

“Yeah,” he said.

He leaned forward, pressed a kiss just beneath Sunset’s navel, though he had to crane his neck at an uncomfortable angle to do it, and it put strain on his shoulders.  She hadn’t taken her panties off, so he knew what he was supposed to do.  He nuzzled downwards, pressed a kiss to the silk, downward until where he knew her clit was, and nuzzled there, kissing and sucking through the fabric, playing with his tongue there just for a moment, before he licked a stripe down her, what would be between her folds, then came back up, delicately closed his teeth around the waistband, and pulled it down. 

He was careful, though it was hard to be with his arms stretched out above him, pulling her panties down around her thighs with his teeth before he shifted, centered himself, took them more firmly in his mouth to pull them all the way down her thighs.  They tasted like her.  He gave a muffled grunt, his mouth still tight around them, as Ty pushed into him again—he still wasn’t quite sure if it hurt or not, his head swimming with warmth and alcohol, but that had been a lot of pressure, and thrust, all at once, and he was suddenly glad the silk had muffled the noise he made a little. 

Ty just thrust in again, harder, muttered something about how Tony felt, all tight and hot, but maybe Tony was getting used to it, because he kept his balance better this time, finished pulling the little slip of silk cloth that was Sunset’s panties down to her knees.  He gave her a moment to lift off of him, pull them off and toss them away, gratefully letting his head rest back against the bed, easing some of the strain in his neck and shoulders from the way he’d had to twist to pull them down like that.  He knew he wasn’t close to being finished. When she moved back and knelt over him again, he leaned back up, licked down over her slit, pressed his lips to her clit, pressing his tongue in just below it, and she sighed, let her breath out, so that was a good sign.  Normally he’d have reached up, let his fingers start to get in on the action around now, but that wasn’t an option, so he just trailed his mouth downward, licking between her folds, tasting how wet she was.

“Mmm,” she said, “honey,” but then her hands were on either side of his jaw, pulling him away, moving down to his shoulders and pushing him back down against the bed.

“Sunset?” he asked, a little alarmed.  Was he not doing it right?

“You’ll give yourself a crick in your neck,” she purred, both hands against his shoulders now.  “You just lie back, darling boy.  We’ll make this . . .” she brushed a finger over his lips where they were slick and shining, and brought it up to her own lips, sucking at the tip, “. . . easier on you.”

“I’m okay,” Tony said, though it came out tight and unconvincing even to his own ears as Ty thrust into him again. 

“Okay?” Ty said, on a laugh that was heavy with lust and effort, “That’s it, Antony? Just okay?  With all we’re doing for you?”

The thought flitted into his head, swirling and dizzy, that he should be doing something for Ty, too, shouldn’t he?  He tried to squeeze down around him, make himself tighter, more inviting, that would make him feel better around Ty’s cock, wouldn’t it?  And he heard Ty gasp, so he guessed that was good, even though it hurt, sent pain sharply through him.

“No, no, I won’t hear of it,” Sunset said.  “Lie back, Tony.”

He did, let his head rest against the coverlet and tilted his head back for her to settle over his mouth.  He shifted his shoulders against the bed, a little uncomfortable—he did like doing this, but he liked touching her while he did, feeling the smoothness of her thighs, holding her close.  He was having a hard time getting used to the idea that his wrists were bound and that wasn’t going to happen.  But he could still do a good job at this, he supposed, though it was going to be a little bit difficult, with each thrust of Ty’s jolting through his body.

But he could handle it.  Tony closed his eyes, opening his mouth and leaned up to lick into her again, starting soft and easy, gentle little licks and long, slow swipes of his tongue.  It was hard to focus, with the push-slide-thrust of Ty in him, harder than he’d thought it would be at first, and then Ty shifted him, grabbed hold of his hip and pulled him forward, his ass sliding on the bed, and that changed something inside him, the angle, and something felt good, sparked into pleasure instead of pain, and Tony couldn’t help the ragged little cry he gave at that unexpected pleasure.  He pressed his face into Sunset’s thigh and gasped for breath.

“Feels good, right, babe?” Ty said.  “I knew you’d like it.”  His voice sounded self-satisfied.  “You should see yourself, all spread out with your legs in the air, taking it like a little bitch and loving it—you’re still hard, you know that?  Hard and dripping.”  He hit that spot again, and Tony wanted to protest, somehow, if only just to tell Ty that wow, that kind of talk really didn’t do it for Tony, all right?  But Sunset grabbed his face and pulled his mouth back to her clit, and so he retaliated the only way he could think of—clenching down around Ty, trying to make him feel good, acknowledge that he was the one getting off on fucking Tony’s ass, please.  It wasn’t the best response, but it was the best he could do.  Sure enough, he could hear Ty gasp, the break in his voice, though Tony didn’t think he could keep it up for long, besides the fact that it hurt kind of a lot, and it made things spark and flare oddly up and down his nerve-endings—it was hard to focus on that and give Sunset enough attention, too, and he was afraid all he was doing when Ty thrust in and hit that place inside him again was licking sloppily at her, which really wasn’t—

Ty pulled out, and thrust in again, and damn, Tony had thought he was rough before, but that—it hurt, but it felt good, at the same time, and Tony squeezed his eyes shut and panted for breath, unable to separate the sensations.  But it had hurt, it—but was that really that different from before?  C’mon, Stark, focus.  You need to concentrate on your girlfriend, you moron.  He opened his mouth and leaned up again.

He slipped, though, when Ty shoved into him again, so hard it shifted him up the bed, then back down, and he wasn’t fast enough to recover, his nose bumped Sunset’s leg, and his teeth bit into her a little.  Tony pulled back immediately.  “Sorry,” he gasped.  “Sorry, Sunset, I’m so.  I’m so sorry.”

She sighed, looked down at where he’d gotten her, swiped her fingers over the spot.  “Come on, Stone,” she said.  “I’m trying to get off here, too, have a little consideration.”

“Sunset?” Tony asked anxiously.  It came out as little more than a whisper.

“Oh, he can handle it,” Ty said.

“You’re jerking him around too much,” Sunset said, her hand sinking down to curl in Tony’s hair, pulling him up to rest his face against her hip.

“He just needs to be more careful,” Ty said.  “Right, Tony?”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Tony said against Sunset’s skin, his breath shuddering in his throat with anxious guilt.  “I will be.”  He felt hot, sweaty, prickling all over.  Her wetness was drying on his face, and even now that he had a chance to breathe, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“Hmm, well,” Sunset said, tossing her hair.  “I suppose it’s only what I can expect from a pair of boys.”

That . . . that really stung.  Tony hoped the humiliated rush of blood to his cheeks wasn’t too obvious, though Sunset could probably feel the heat in his cheek where it was pressed to her skin.  “I’ll do better,” he promised.  “I will.”  He turned his head and pressed a kiss against her thigh, another further up, swallowing hard as Ty shoved into him again.  He turned one hand, braced his wrist against the bedpost, holding himself in place.  It hurt a little, and he was going to be bruised there, but oh well.

“Hmm,” Sunset said, but she did guide his head back down to her slit, stroking her fingers down over the back of his neck, running them through the short hair there.  Tony lost no time in pressing his face back in against her—he could feel how wet she was, and she usually got too sensitive around her clit when she was close, so after trailing his lips over it and sucking just slightly, he concentrated on licking in between her folds, up into her.

Ty’s hand was bruising him on his hip, he was pretty sure.  The knots had gotten very tight around his ankles, too; his feet had gone numb a while ago, though he hadn’t noticed it whenever that had started.  He was sure there were runs in Sunset’s stockings.  The thought made him wince.  He leaned up a little more, licking more earnestly into Sunset, and closed his eyes.  Just do whatever they want you to do, he told himself.  Impress them, and it’ll be over soon enough.

Sunset pulled him closer, and wow, okay, hard to breathe.  But that was good, right?  Pulling him closer was good.  His head was really swimming now.  Was he doing this well enough?  Was she going to come soon?

Ty was saying something.  Tony fought down the urge to hunch his shoulders up around his ears and try not to listen; he straightened his back, made himself focus, not missing a beat of what he was doing for Sunset.

“Is he always like this with you?” Ty was saying, and Tony couldn’t help it, he flinched, really flinched.  “Just lying here thinking of transistors, or whatever the fuck he thinks about in bed instead of you?”

“I don’t,” Tony protested, pulling back.  “I swear I don’t.  Ty, I never . . .” he tried to swallow.  “Sunset, honey . . . .”

Sunset tugged on his hair, pulling him back to her.  “He’s doing just fine for me,” she said sweetly.  “If he’s not responding to you, that’s your problem . . . Caesar.”

“I’m sorry, Ty,” Tony said desperately.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to do to make that kind of sex any better, and he couldn’t really move tied down like this, but clearly there was something he should have been doing.  His hands pulled awkwardly at the ties around them again, not really on purpose, he knew they wouldn’t come free, but—the silk just rubbed uncomfortably against his wrists.  He sniffed, tried to swallow, to banish the hitch in his breathing before either of them noticed it, panting for breath.

“Shh, baby boy,” Sunset said, tugging his head forward again, “just get back to what you’re good at doing with your mouth.”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, took a deep breath and blew it out.  “Right,” he managed to say evenly, finally, opening his eyes again.  No more excuses.  But really, he couldn’t just let Ty get away with that.  “You know, Ty, I thought you were having a pretty good time, but if you have any tips, I’d love to hear them.”  He pressed another kiss to Sunset’s thigh, to the curve of her hip, the flat plane of her stomach, took another breath, and then dipped his face obediently up into her again.  She had to be close, he could feel her trembling, in her thighs, her stomach muscles.

Ty kissed the top of his knee, then reached down, brushed his fingers down Tony’s cock, and Tony jumped at the feeling, the shivering shock of pleasure oddly unfamiliar after all this time, though he managed not to move his head too much.  “Well, you could give me something,” Ty said, stroking Tony’s cock lazily, “make a little noise, maybe?  Instead of just lying there.”

Tony guessed that was fair.  “Mm,” he agreed, hoping the vibration would do something for Sunset, too.  She sighed, and her hand tightened in his hair, clamped down on the back of his neck, so maybe it had.  Which was good, because he was honestly groaning a second later, as Ty tightened his hand around his cock, stroking up in a way he must have remembered Tony liked.

“The great Tony Stark, asking me for sex advice,” Ty said, satisfaction smug in his voice.

Oh, jeez.  Tony rolled his eyes, though he knew neither of them would see him.  He worked his ankle a bit, twisted it enough that he could pull despite the numbness, push the heel of his foot against Ty’s shoulder, shoving him lightly, in retaliation for that crack.  His lips were starting to feel numb, too, but Sunset’s wetness was sweet against his tongue, and at least she was close.  She had to be close, if the way she was gripping him with both hands, tight against her, fingernails digging into his neck, was any indication.

Ty laughed a bit, grabbed at his ankle and squeezed, laid a kiss against the top of his foot, or Tony figured he did from the way his cheek brushed his shin; he couldn’t really feel it.  “See?” he said.  “There’s plenty you can do, don’t give me this bs.”

Tony licked down the middle of Sunset’s folds, then pulled back, panted for breath.  “If you’re going to fuck me, fuck me,” he said, “don’t give me this bs,” and then let her insistent grip on his head push him back into her.

“Well,” Ty said, and patted him on the hip, then pinched him there, just above it.  “You asked for it, Antony.”

He sure had, Tony thought, bracing himself with that wrist again as Ty shoved into him.  Deeper this time, really . . . deep, Tony hadn’t realized he’d been keeping his thrusts so shallow before.  He hadn’t realized you could get that deep, he thought dazedly, even as he opened his mouth further, kissing and lapping at Sunset, sliding his tongue up inside her.  She had to be close.  He knew she was close—she made a soft sound, and all he could feel was pure relief, as she cried out again, slightly louder, and her fingers dug, sharp, into the back of his head.  Her thighs clamped down around him, and he could feel her wetness on his face, drenching his lips as she pulled at his hair.  He panted for breath, but all he could taste was her; he could still feel Ty’s thrusts, deep and jarring, but Sunset was holding his head entirely still.

It was clear that he wasn’t getting a breath for a few seconds, at least, so he just hoped the black stars at the edges of his vision didn’t turn into an actual blackout and stayed there, licking her wetness up mindlessly, even once she let him go, and he could pull away long enough to get a breath.  He sucked one in through his nose and went back to her until she pushed him away, shoved him back down to the bed.  She had an awful lot of her weight on his shoulders and sternum, but hey, he could sort of breathe anyway, so that was something.  And he hadn’t blacked out.  That was something, too.  He wondered if they were going to untie his wrists now, or what.  Probably not—after all, Ty wasn’t done.  He wished he could wipe off his face, though.

Sunset gave a long sigh after a moment and stretched, bending her back, before throwing her leg over Tony and moving off of him to recline on the bed beside him.  She ran her finger down over his nose, his lips, his chin, all still damp with her slickness, but when he tried to turn his head, to rest it against her palm, she moved her hand away.  He sighed, not really surprised, licked his lips to clean them, though there wasn’t much more he could do.  Ty shifted, leaning up over him, pushing Tony’s legs up more to accommodate him, and Tony blinked, took a deep breath.  “Hey, Ty,” he said.

“Hey,” Ty said, smirking again.  “Sunset, I bet he’d like some more to drink.  He must be thirsty after all that work.”

“Hmm,” Sunset said.  Tony closed his eyes.  Ty was sure taking his time, he thought, a little blearily. He was a little surprised by that.  Ty must be right, and he wasn’t doing a very good job.  Sunset moved off the bed, and Tony opened his eyes again as Ty thrust into him, trying to move with him more, since he’d sort of implied that was what he wanted—hadn’t he?  Tony wasn’t really sure anymore.

Sunset came back, handed a glass to Ty, and he stilled, braced one arm over Tony’s knee, took a swallow.

“If you get too drunk to get it up, don’t blame me,” Tony muttered.

“That’s not going to be a problem,” Ty said.  He closed his hand around Tony’s cock again.  “Though you seem to be having a mild whiskey-dick issue, Tone.”

Tony shook his head—that wasn’t what was going on, he wanted to say, but it seemed like too much trouble to argue.

“He’s never had that sort of problem before,” Sunset said, draping her hand over Tony’s shoulder.  “You want more to drink, Tony, right?”

“Haha, of course he does,” Ty said, handing the shot glass back to Sunset.  “You’ve seen him drink; just give it to him.”

“Good point,” Sunset said.  “Open up, darling.”

Tony figured another drink couldn’t hurt, so he opened his mouth when she pressed the glass against his bottom lip.  When the first swallow hit the back of his throat, he started to choke, but she didn’t stop, and so he swallowed desperately.  At least he got most of it down his throat, though his throat felt raw, afterwards.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Sunset said, pulling the glass away.  “Do you want more?”

“Nah,” Ty said.  “Better not.  We still want to get you off, right, T?”  He patted his thigh, ran his hand up over his hip, around to grope his ass, squeezing a little, which made Tony twitch a little, wincing at how it felt.  “Don’t worry, we’ll get you there.”

“Good luck,” Tony wanted to say, but it left his lips a slurring mumble.

“What was that?” Sunset asked.  “Speak up, Tony, honey.”

“If he’s too drunk, he’s too drunk,” Ty said, “nothing out of his mouth’s going to make any sense.  Feeling good, aren’t you, Antony?”

Warm, Tony thought.  He felt warm.  Which was an improvement over cold and sore, so sure.  “Mmhmm,” he said, when it seemed like Ty was waiting for a response.

“See,” Ty said, “told you.”  He leaned up, like he was going to kiss Tony, bracing his elbow on the bed, and Tony raised his head a little, hoping for a kiss, honestly, to recapture some of the excitement he’d felt toward the beginning of the night, but then Ty pulled back, made a face.

“God, you made a mess of his face,” he said.

Sunset laughed.  “He has a lovely mouth,” she said.  “And it looks good like that, don’t you think?  All glistening and wet.”

Tony blinked, tried to get his eyes to focus.  “Are you sure this isn’t the reason you don’t have a girlfriend, Caesar,” he managed to get out, more clearly this time.

Ty scowled.  “Clearly, I manage to get plenty of action,” he said.

“Apparently,” Tony said, swallowing past his raw throat, “I get twice as much.”  He grinned up at him.  “Are you going to kiss me or not?” he said, though the words were bleary, blurred, no matter how hard he tried to make them clear.  “C’mon, T, I dare you.”

Ty wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, pressed his lips to Tony’s, harsh and bruising, but Tony just sighed, leaned up into it, kissed him back eagerly.  They ended up kissing for a long time, tongues slipping and sliding against each other, even when Ty started thrusting into Tony again.  It got rough and sloppy at that point, biting at each others’ lips and tongue, but the more slow, wet kisses Tony pressed into Ty’s mouth, the more his hand clenched and tightened at the back of Tony’s neck, gripping his hair, the slower and more dragging his mouth became over Tony’s in return.  Tony figured there was no way Ty was going to last much longer, and soon enough, his cock dragged over that place inside Tony that made little shivers of pleasure spark up through him, and he came with a shuddering groan, smearing hot and wet inside him, pressing his face into Tony’s neck for a moment, before he bit down there, hard, on Tony’s collarbone.  Tony just turned his face to rest it in Ty’s hair and closed his eyes.

He felt . . . strange.  Warm, and drifting, but also shivery and off-balance.  He thought his own dick might be hard, from the little bursts of pleasure from Ty fucking him, he could feel it, the awkward friction against Ty’s hip whenever he shifted, but he didn’t feel like he was going to come.  He felt strange.  He guessed he was pretty drunk.

He hoped they were going to untie him soon.  This was over now, right?

“Very nice,” Sunset said, from beside them, reaching down to brush the hair back out of Tony’s eyes, and he jumped, startled.  Ty groaned as he was jostled, pushed Tony’s hip back down to the bed, and moved back.  He pulled out of Tony with a wet noise that made him flush without quite knowing why, and okay, wow, that hurt, even through the warm alcohol haze.  At least Ty let Tony’s leg fall back down to the bed from over his shoulder.  The way it fell tugged on the pantyhose a bit more, the tightness of the knots, but Tony barely felt that.

Ty swiped a thumb over him back there, over the place that felt wet and sore, and leaking, and Tony flinched; his legs tried to close automatically, but they couldn’t, the pantyhose wouldn’t stretch that far, and Ty just put his other hand on Tony’s thigh anyway and held them apart easily.  “I told you,” Ty said, “that I’d fuck you loose.”

Tony bit his lip, hard, to keep the indignant, distressed noise that wanted to escape his lips behind his teeth.  Of course there was going to be a physical result, he told himself.  Equal and opposite reaction, except there wasn’t anywhere for his body to go, so . . . yeah, his thoughts were tangling, but the point was, of course his body would be . . . affected.  Right?  Yeah.

“Not so tight anymore, are you, babe?” Ty said, and he pushed his fingers back into him, and they slid on in, easy, and Tony just wanted to tell him to stop, but he didn’t want Ty to say anything else and he didn’t want to whine, so he just turned his head away, pressed his face into the coverlet beneath it.  “Loose and sloppy,” Ty continued, sounding satisfied.  He crooked his fingers, pulling at the rim of Tony’s hole, holding Tony open so that more of that warm wetness leaked out of him, and Tony couldn’t help the noise that escaped him at that.  “Look at that.”  Tony shook his head, though he didn’t know if it was in protest or just point out that he couldn’t; he was pretty limber, but he wasn’t a contortionist.  Ty slid his fingers back into him, further in, twitched them again, curling them, and Tony made another helpless noise and wasn’t able to keep this one back.  “Do you think you’ll feel me for days?” Ty asked smugly.

Yes, Tony thought, but he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give Ty the satisfaction of that.  That wasn’t how their game, their competition, worked.

“Oh, whatever, I know you will,” Ty said.  “But you haven’t come yet, Antony,” he said in another moment, not moving his fingers from where they rested achingly deep inside Tony’s body, and he sounded so goddamn cheerful.  “We’d better fix that.”

“S’okay,” Tony mumbled.  He was tired.  His head felt so . . . weird.  Drifty.

“No, no, it’s not okay, what sort of people do you take us for, Tone?” Ty said.

“Really, Tony,” Sunset added, stroking the back of his hand down over his cheek, and Tony flushed hot again.  He hadn’t meant to imply anything about them, nothing like that.

“Sorry,” he murmured.  He opened his eyes again.  “Sorry.  Yeah.  Sure.  Okay.”

“That’s more like it,” Ty said.  “C’mon, T, I know you, of course you wanna come.”  He pressed his fingers in, deeper, and Tony flinched a little, but then he was pressing them against that spot that felt good, and the little sparks of pleasure were back.  Tony groaned, shifted down into the touch before he even realized what he was doing, because it felt good, and he wanted more, more pressure, more of that sparking tingling feeling of pleasure, almost itchy under his skin.  “That’s right,” Ty said.  “That’s right, baby, fuck yourself on my hand.  See, you love it.”  He pushed his fingers in, harder, and white stars of pleasure bloomed across Tony’s eyes for a second, and okay, he could see why people kind of liked doing it like this, though he still wasn’t sure this was worth the soreness.  Maybe a different angle would be better, to hit that spot without so much of the pain . . . stuff?  He was sure he could figure it out if his head was a little clearer.

But then Sunset leaned over him, tilted his head up toward her with her hand on his chin, and kissed him, and his thoughts fled in the wake of the touch of her mouth.  He tilted his head back for it, kissing her back eagerly, and she ran her hands down over his shoulders, his chest, scratching her nails over his nipples, his ribs.  Tony barely noticed, not with how good the kiss felt, the soft heat of it, the way her tongue swirled against his—and the warm, building pressure of what Ty was doing to him.  He started to move his fingers inside Tony, swirling and stroking, and that—well, it felt a little weird and wet and sore, but it felt good, too, no, more like amazing.  He wasn’t sure if it felt good despite the pain, the ache, or if the pain sharpened it somehow, made it more intense.  Sometimes he felt like, being with Sunset, he was losing track of the line between the two.  Maybe he’d liked it when it hurt all along, though, and hadn’t known, it was hard to say at this point.

Ty moved his fingers away, then pressed just one to that one spot inside him, and Tony moaned, could feel his fingers clenching into desperate fists above the ties.  His wrists felt raw, when he pulled against them, but he barely noticed.  That, Ty’s finger, wasn’t enough, just a tease, pressing into that place, just enough to make him feel warm and needy, not enough to—not enough.  He groaned, but Sunset just kissed him more deeply, and Ty didn’t give him more, just pressed in a little harder. 

Tony was trembling now, he could feel it, and even when he shoved himself down against Ty’s hand, it wasn’t enough.  He groaned against Sunset’s lips, tried to shift himself down more, get some friction somehow, but he couldn’t, not tied like he was, especially not with Ty’s other hand still pushing his legs apart, and all he did was make the itching needy feeling of want worse, made it flare even hotter and dizzier. 

Sunset was still kissing him, sucking on his lips, and he could still taste the flavor of her desire on them, on his tongue, and he could feel himself starting to—to fray, around the edges, desperate, when Ty smeared his finger over that spot again, moved it away to stroke him inside where he was sore for a few seconds until Tony made a desperate noise, then moved it back to press in there.  He did that a few times, and then he pressed two fingers back to that place, massaging with firm pressure, and it felt so good and it still wasn’t enough, just pleasure spreading warm and trembling through Tony’s body, but not enough.  Oh, God, Tony thought desperately, but it was all he could manage, his thoughts sparking and dizzy, slipping away when he reached for them and burning like sparks off metal. 

He knew his cock was hard now; he could feel it, pre-come sliding down along the shaft, dripping against his pelvis; he felt it in oddly clear detail, even as Ty rubbed his fingers against that spot inside him again, and Tony moaned desperately, almost embarrassed at how needy he sounded but unable to help it.  Ty just stroked his other hand down over Tony’s thigh, and Tony gave another desperate noise, because that was the opposite of the direction he wanted him to move his hand.  He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hot and spun out and spread out thin, and just leaned up into Sunset, kissing her with more determination.  He knew he was rocking onto Ty’s hand now, but it wasn’t doing anything, not really, just sending those teasing flashes of pleasure through him and making his ass feel raw where it slid over the bed.  His shoulders hurt.

Sunset pulled away from his lips for a moment, her fingernails biting into his ribs as she pressed a kiss against the side of his mouth, then against his cheek.  “Come on,” Tony panted before he thought, now that his lips were free.  It came out a breaking moan.  “Come on, Ty.”

“Hmm?” Ty said.  His voice sounded smug.  “Aren’t you enjoying this, babe?”

“Yes,” Tony said on an impatient huff of air, wasn’t that obvious?  “Yes, but . . .”

“Oh, do you want more?” Ty said.

“Please,” Tony said.

“Oh, well, you should have said,” Ty said, and finally, finally wrapped his hand around Tony’s cock.  Tony made a broken, desperate noise, tried to push up into it, but Sunset pulled him back down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him again. 

Tony knew he was making noise against her lips, breathless little grunts and gasps for air interspersed with the moans he couldn’t keep back, but he felt strung out, helpless, opened and spread for Ty’s fingers deep inside him, Ty’s other hand hot and welcome around his cock.  He knew just how to stroke him, too, and Tony knew he was never going to last, thank goodness for small favors. 

The pleasure welled up inside him, he could feel his muscles tightening, the welcome pressure in his dick, and then he was coming on a shout of pleasure.  Sunset winced and covered his mouth with one hand, and he gasped and panted behind it, mindless, not even aware of how much noise he was making.  The pleasure just kept going, and going, and he realized Ty was still stroking him, both along his cock and inside his body, not moving his fingers away, kept at it until Tony was twitching and whimpering, desperate, Sunset’s fingers still covering his mouth.  It was too much, and he couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe in through his nose, and after everything the pleasure was so overwhelming, he could feel it everywhere, so intense he thought there might be embarrassing tears starting in his eyes, he felt wetness catch in his eyelashes when he squeezed them shut.  He thought he blacked out for a while; knew he sagged back against the bed, his head lolling against the covers.

He must have blacked out, because there was a definite feeling of coming back to himself, of waking up.  He blinked eyes that felt sticky open again and realized he was cold.  But not so cold he was shivering with it.  He felt oddly disconnected from things, not quite sore, but not sure of how each part of his body connected to the others, maybe.  He felt . . . sticky, and slick, and when he tried to bring his hand down to swipe at that wetness, his wrist came up short, and he realized with a jolt that he was tied to the bed.  Still—still tied to the bed. 

His eyes came open all at once, and he glanced up over his head, and there was Ty’s blue tie, still looped tight around his wrist, holding it to the bedpost.  The feeling that swept over him then was pure, embarrassing panic, and he struggled, wrenching against the ties and the knots at his feet, but he couldn’t get them loose.  Where had Ty and Sunset gone?  They’d been there, hadn’t they?  But yes, of course they had, how else would he have gotten tied up like this?  Where were they—how long had he been here like—hell, he’d passed out, they must have gotten bored waiting for him to wake up, and who could blame them, you weren’t supposed to—falling asleep after was rude.  No wonder they’d left him.   Though he wished they’d have untied him first.  Tony took a deep breath, turned his head to rub his face against his shoulder, trying to collect himself.

They must have thought he’d be fine.  Right?

And he was fine.  He was.  He’d be fine.  He’d be . . . he took another deep breath.

He could feel himself, spread open, and his ass felt cold and wet and a little numb.  He still felt like he was leaking, down there, a little, and he winced and instinctively tried to bring his legs closed, his knees back together, and couldn’t, the knots around his ankles holding his legs apart though he barely felt them tugging at his numb skin.  His knees could almost touch if he pulled hard, but he—he wasn’t supposed to.  No pulling, no stretching out Sunset’s stockings.  Right?  He let his legs fall back, panting.  He didn’t . . . like that, feeling so open and wet and exposed, and, and used.  He could feel his own come over his cock, soft now, feel it over the front of his thighs and onto his stomach, and it was cold but still wet, so—so he must not have been here like this that long, if it hadn’t started to dry and flake.

Right.  He was fine.  What was he supposed to—was he supposed to wait for them?  No, maybe not, they were probably letting him sleep.  But—but he was awake now, he could find them, make it up to them for falling asleep on them.  If he could . . . if he could get free, anyway.  He pushed himself up, and winced as his shoulders flared into sudden pain, but gritted his teeth and ignored it, pushing himself up until he could get at the knot around his left wrist with his teeth.

It took some doing, a lot of slipping and frustration, and his shoulders were killing him, but eventually it started to come loose.  He almost slid back down out of relief when it first started to loosen, but he caught himself, even though it wrenched his shoulders painfully.

Talking, he realized when he was about halfway done.  He could hear talking—Ty’s deep baritone as a low rumble, Sunset’s voice more clearly.  Were they coming back?  Their voices were coming closer.  Tony lifted his head, hopeful that maybe they’d come in, untie him after all.

“Round two?” Sunset was saying.  “Ambitious, aren’t you?”

“Like you said,” Ty said, and they were closer now, enough that Tony could make out his words.  “Little Tony’s got a talented mouth.  I figure—you have a strap-on, don’t you?—we can switch it up, you take his ass, I fuck his face this time.”

“I don’t know,” Sunset said dubiously.  “He was pretty drunk there at the end—he’ll probably just sleep it off.  It might be hard to rouse him.”

“I know how to wake him up,” Ty said.  “He’ll be fine.”

Tony froze.  He . . . stared, away into nothing, not seeing his own bruised wrist or the rest of the room.  For a moment he didn't know how to process what they were saying, and then another humiliating shiver of panic went through him, and he flinched, hard and involuntary, banged his shoulder against the bed and nearly fell back down.  He squeezed his eyes shut, caught himself—he couldn’t slide back down now—sucked in a breath.  No, he thought, panicked, and it was all he could think for a moment, no, I can’t, I can’t, I don’t have another round in me, not right now, please, not right now.

They were joking—fooling around.  Right?  They had to be fooling around.  They—they both liked jokes.

He tugged more desperately at the knot around his wrist with his teeth.  He could hardly think, and for a moment he didn’t care if it was a joke, or if they were being serious, or not, he just had to—had to get free.  He had to.

Finally the knot came loose, and he could pull his wrist free, and he hissed at the sting; he could see the raw marks around his wrist, just under the base of his palm, against the skin.  But at least now he had another hand to work on his right wrist along with his teeth, and even though his fingers were clumsy from being bound so long and the alcohol, that one came free more easily.  His own tie came loose and fell to the bed, and Tony rubbed automatically at his wrists, wincing, as he slid back down against the pillows, then sat up.

His ass immediately flared into pain, and he groaned, biting his lip and curling in against his knees, because it was both a sharp, insistent throb on the surface and a steady, unrelenting ache deep inside and it hurt, oh, hell, it hurt.  He sucked in his breath, fought to blow it out again, fought for his composure, but that almost slipped away from him again at how wet and hot and slickly, dully bruised he felt, how . . . open; he could feel his ass slide, wet, against the covers.  No.  Don’t think about that, Stark.  It’ll be fine.  You’re just a little sore; you’ve had a hell of a lot worse in football practice—a hell of a lot worse, though not . . . right there.  It’d pass, it was just pain, he’d be fine.  He straightened up, reached for the knots around one ankle, wincing when he touched the top of his foot and felt nothing but a dull, far away nudge against his skin through the numbness.  These were trickier; they’d pulled tight, over the course of—of everything, he realized, no wonder he’d gone all numb.  He was still fumbling with the first set when the door opened. Ty and Sunset came in, and Tony’s head jerked up automatically.

Ty had another glass in his hand, still naked, and Sunset had a loose chiffon robe on, open in front, though covering her breasts, with the belt tied loosely in front, transparent bronze that concealed very little and cut short enough to expose her thighs.  She hadn’t put any underwear back on, either.  Tony swallowed, and his fingers stilled on the knots.

Come on, he told himself again, and brought a smile to his lips from somewhere.  “Hey, guys,” he said, and tugged at the knots again, trying to untangle them as gently as possible.  See, he wanted to say, I’m already awake, and part of him wanted to add, and hey, Caesar, where do you get off calling me little, but another part of him didn’t want to let on that he’d overheard them talking about him, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Well, look who’s awake,” Ty said with a laugh.  “What’s the hurry, Tone, going somewhere?”

“I woke up,” Tony said, and then winced at how unnecessary and stupid that had sounded.  “And you weren’t here?” he added, annoyed with himself a second later for how uncertain, how questioning, that had sounded, too.  He tugged at the knots, a little angrily, and was relieved when they came free, so he could bring his leg down, lay it folded across the bed, hiked up against his stomach to conceal his groin, as he bent to start on the other.  He worked his toes against the bed, or tried to, trying to work feeling back into them.

“You can’t exactly expect us to wait around however long it was going to take for you to sleep it off, can you?” Sunset asked, crossing one arm across her chest, beneath her breasts, to rest the glass Tony belatedly realized she had in her hand against her other arm.  So was that where they had gone?  To get more drinks?

“Yeah, so I figured I’d better quit lying around,” Tony said, trying to make a joke of it.  Ty crossed to him, rested one hand on his shoulder, brushing his thumb against his neck, before he leaned down to kiss him.  His lips tasted like rum.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked, patting Tony’s knee.  “You seem like you’re in a rush.”

“I—I’m not,” Tony said.  He knew his eyes flicked from Ty to Sunset, and his stomach was all twisted up in knots and he knew he had to look anxious, jittery, but he didn’t know why or how to stop it.

“Goodness, darling, stop with the dramatics,” Sunset said with a roll of her eyes.  “What’s all this?  Nerves over waking up alone?  Really?  Please.”

“Don’t be so tense, Tone,” Ty told him, and winked.  “Just relax.”

And okay, now Tony was getting a little annoyed.  “You just left me here,” he said, and didn’t even try to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.  “Both of you.  I woke up and I didn’t know where you were.”

“Did you know where you were, either?” Ty asked knowingly, “Because you know, booze can do that.  Don’t be so uptight, Antony.  We were coming back for you.”

“For round two?” Tony asked, stung.

“Are you up for it?” Ty asked with a wicked grin.

“Look at him,” Sunset said, sounding bored and rather annoyed, rolling her glass against her side, between her fingers.  She lifted it and took a sip.  “All worked up.  Sort of kills the mood.”  She stepped forward, and they were both so close, boxing him in again, Tony’s muscles tensed involuntarily and then she was touching him, his hair, his cheek, his knee, and he relaxed again, turning toward her.  “Really, sweetheart,” she said, soft and honeyed, “is that what you think of us?  What you think of me?”  Her eyes sharpened, and her fingernails bit into the skin around his knee.  “Do you trust me that little?  Of course we were coming back for you.  We just needed a little break ourselves.”

“I guess it was too much,” Ty said, smirking.

“What, for you?” Tony snapped.  He’d been doing all the work, hadn’t he?

“Well, you did just lie on your back and take it,” Ty pointed out.  “Besides, look at you—you got free all on your own.  Nothing to worry about.  So what’s the fuss all about?”

“You looked so sexy coming apart like that, for us,” Sunset said, stroking his knee again.  “We needed some time to cool down, you know.”  She looked at him, and her mouth was tight, frustrated.  “We did all this for you, Tony,” she said.  “Really.  If you you’re going to decide you don’t trust me anymore—because of a little thing like getting up to get a drink—”

“No,” Tony said, immediately, automatically, reaching for her arms, holding her softly, running his hands up to her shoulders.  “Of course I trust you, sweetheart.  Of course I do.”  He swallowed, ducked his head to look into her eyes, tried a little smile.  “I love you, remember?” he said, put his hand on her cheek and leaned in, angling for a kiss.  She sighed, looked away, but allowed him to touch his lips softly to hers.  Her lips tasted like rum, too.  “Of course I trust you,” he said again, after he’d pulled away.  “This was . . .” he swallowed.  “This was fine.  I’m fine.”

“Then why the rush to get away, Antony?” Ty asked.  When Tony looked up he was still smirking, but there was an annoyed look in his eyes.  Well, he’d never liked things to get too sappy, anyway.

“I have to piss, all right?” Tony said shortly, and he was afraid it sounded defensive, “I had to untie myself.”  And he did have to piss, there was an uncomfortable, insistent pressure in his bladder.

“Aw, too much tequila,” Ty said, “and there you go, running off to the bathroom.”  He grinning.

“Well, I need to get cleaned up a little, too, don’t I?” Tony muttered.  Finally the knots came free around his other ankle, and despite the desire not to do it in front of them, he couldn’t resist pressing his thumb in behind the bone, rubbing at his foot and trying to restore some feeling to the numb flesh.

He winced, a second later, when it did start to come back, stabbing like needles, or like the sparks when he welded without protective gear.

“I don’t know,” Sunset said musingly, and ran her hand down the middle of Tony’s chest, making him shiver.  “There’s something about you like this.”

“What,” Tony said, trying to make a joke of it, “tired and drunk?”

“Mmm, no,” Sunset said.  “Used and tousled and covered in come.”  She smiled.

Used, Tony thought.  He knew she meant it in a sexy way, he did, but . . . he rubbed the back of his neck, swiped one hand across his face to wipe off some of the drying slickness there, and slid his legs over the edge of the bed, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and try not to look like he was testing the ability of his feet to take his weight too obviously.  He leaned forward, let the soles of his feet go flat against the floor, but one foot was still prickling all over, and the other had just started to feel alive again.  His ankles wobbled when he tried to settle his weight onto them and push himself up, and his head spun dizzily, almost dumping him right back on his ass.  He felt a trickle of wetness ooze down the curve of his ass, the inside of his thigh, and his stomach twisted.  He firmed one hand into a fist to stop it from twitching over to cover his flaccid dick, still damp and clearly visible between his legs.  Stop it, he told himself.  Stop it.  What is this, Stark, modesty?  Don’t be an idiot.  You know you look good naked.  Flaunt it.  Don’t you dare curl up like a wilting flower, you dumb shit.  He didn’t let himself press his legs together, either, but he did sit there a moment longer, trying to get his strength up to push himself up to his feet without his spinning head dumping him right onto the floor.

“Yeah,” Ty was saying. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Yeah,” Tony said dazedly, rubbing the back of his neck again, which gave him another twinge of pain from his shoulders.   He passed one hand over his eyes.  “Sure.”  He guessed it was a compliment, anyway.  Most of his focus was on getting himself to his feet.  He felt sweaty, cold sweat beading down his back, the back of his neck as they looked at him.  Besides, the pressure on his bladder was becoming more insistent, harder to ignore.

“Very,” Sunset said, sounding self-satisfied.  Tony pushed himself to his feet, and to his great relief didn’t immediately land himself either back on the bed, or the ground, though his feet still stung and wobbled.  He forced himself to stand up straight and not to lean over and support himself on the bedpost, or the nearby nightstand, instead taking a step forward.

“So, uh, bathroom,” he said, with another smile at them.  “Back in a little while.”

“Don’t be too long,” Sunset said.

“Right,” Tony muttered.  At this rate it was going to take him long enough just to stagger into the bathroom, but he wasn’t about to say that.  He worked his ankle a little, trying to work out the stinging pinpricks before he took another step and put his weight on it.  It held him, at least, when he did step forward, even though he had to lock his knees for a moment.

He almost fell anyway when Ty’s hand came down against his ass in a light slap that stung far more than it should have against his raw skin.  He cupped it in his hand, squeezed a little, and Tony hissed from between his teeth.  “Ty,” he said, pained.

“What?” Ty said.  He ran his thumb down between the cleft of Tony’s ass and he couldn’t help it, he twitched away, from the sensitivity, the uncomfortable intimacy of that touch, the way it hurt to have Ty’s thumb brush against him there.  “You’ve got a nice ass, babe.  You should work it.”

“That’s funny, I thought you already did,” Tony said tensely.

“Ha,” Ty said and smirked.  He ran his hand down over Tony’s hip, wiping the wetness on his thumb off against Tony’s skin.  His fingers curved around the inside of Tony’s thigh, bit in against his skin, just for a moment, not letting him pull away.  Tony’s shoulders felt tight, and he could feel the twinges of soreness worse than ever.  “I guess I did,” Ty said, but he released Tony a moment later with a pat to the meat of his thigh, and Tony felt his breath leave him in relief.

“So, yeah,” Tony said, “I’ll be right back.  Don’t do anything fun without me, right?”  He winced again, at how stupid that had sounded, considering, but Sunset just smiled.

“That depends on how long you take, sweetie,” she said.

Tony bit the inside of his lip.  God.  Did she mean . . . ?  No, she was just teasing.  Don’t be stupid and jealous, Stark, he reminded himself.  “I won’t take that long,” he said.  “I’m not doing my hair or anything.”  He grinned, then turned, fixed his eyes on the door, and managed to walk to it without stumbling or even shuffling too badly, though he did have to grab hold of the doorframe to steady himself a little, doing his best not to think about them looking at him as he went.

When he was on the other side, he let himself stumble over to the wall and slapped his hand against it, letting it support him for a moment as he wavered on his feet.  His head was still spinning dizzily, and he wasn’t certain if it was because he was drunk, or some other reason, but he forced himself to keep walking anyway, to hurry his steps.  Just get to the bathroom, he told himself.  It had a door.  He would be alone in there; he could collapse if he needed to.  Luckily it wasn’t too far, just down the hallway and around one corner.  He stumbled inside, fumbled the door shut behind him, and then stumbled, badly, and only managed to catch himself on the sink.

He stayed there for a moment, propped his hands on it and locked his elbows until he could catch his breath, then lowered himself to rest on his elbows, ran his hands back over his face, through his hair, to clasp them at the back of his neck.  His stomach wrenched, and for one absolutely horrifying moment he was afraid he might throw up before it passed.

Hell, what was wrong with him?  This was just . . . it was weird.  Sure, it hadn’t been that great, but sex was kind of a roll of the dice, right, sometimes it was great and sometimes it wasn’t so much.  He knew that.  But he felt shaky, shuddery all through his body.  Had he—had he had too much to drink?  But he’d had way more than that before without reacting like this, feeling this sick or shivery.  Was it the kind of tequila?  He wasn’t sure what brand Sunset had bought.  He scrubbed the heel of one hand against his eye, took a deep breath, and dared to raise his head to look at himself in the mirror.

Fuck, he looked awful.  His vision swam, and it felt like he was looking at someone else in the mirror.  Someone else who’d just been through some kind of traumatic event like an earthquake and was now being interviewed about it on the six o’clock news, though he wasn’t sure what kind of earthquake vaporized your clothes and left you sticky and covered in bodily fluids.  Maybe more like an alien invasion.  He snorted, and he could see the wry pull to his mouth, which looked bruised and swollen.  His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was washed out and pale, and his eyelashes looked weird and spiky.  His hair was a complete mess, and he ran the tap, wet his hand and tried to fix it almost by instinct, combing it back with wet fingers, trying to get some of the style back before he realized it was a waste of time and just left it.  It felt greasy and stiff with sweat beneath his fingers, and he sighed and just bent forward, pulled one of Sunset’s face towels down and wet it beneath the flow of water to run it across his face.  When he was dripping, he rubbed some soap on it, closed his eyes, and began to scrub.

When his face felt clean, or at least, the towel was no longer sticking and catching on its way across his face, he ran it under the water again, wiped his face off, then turned it over and wiped it as dry as he could.  Then he held the towel under the hot water to get any stain out before it started to set, folded it, and left it on the side of the bath where it might not drip too much.  He pulled out a few tissues, which he ran over the damp side of the sink just to get them a little wet without destroying their structural integrity, and started to clean up his stomach, his dick, swiped them over his balls and down between his legs. 

He took a deep breath before he pulled his ass cheeks apart, dabbing the tissues at the fluid there, pushing one finger up into himself to pull himself open again so that he could swipe that up, too.  It hurt, so much he groaned, and turned his face automatically, gasping for breath into his shoulder.  Fuck.  Was that normal?  Maybe.  A lot of people said it hurt a lot.  Maybe Ty had been at a bad angle.  Should Tony have spread his legs more?  Maybe tilted his hips . . . .  He could still feel that . . . wetness.  He wondered if he were bleeding, or if that was just . . . just come and lube.  But no, it wasn’t that bad, was it?  He felt bruised, that was all.  Tony kept the tissues there until he couldn’t feel any more of that wetness, pushing his finger up inside himself no matter how badly it stung and pulled, then pulled his hands away, balled the tissues up, resisting the urge to look at them and see if there was any streak or stain of blood.  He threw them in the toilet without looking at all, and washed his hands.  And then washed them again before he even thought about it.

He put his head in his hands after they were clean and stood there for a moment.  He could feel how badly he was sweating, cold sweat that beaded on his forehead and shoulders.  It was only after a long moment that the insistent twinge in his bladder reminded him that he had come in there for another reason to start with, and he stumbled over to the toilet—ow, now that his feet had mostly woken up he could feel how . . . sore he was, all around his hips, down his thighs; the pain in his ass didn’t even stand out much, huh—and relieved his bodily needs.  He flushed it, stumbled over to the sink and washed his hands again, automatically, then stood there for a moment, not sure what to do.  He wondered if he were sober yet.  He didn’t feel sober.  He ran one hand through his hair and shivered.  The air was cold, and, well, he was naked.  He supposed he’d better go back.  They’d be waiting for him.  He put his head down for a second, curled his hands around his arms, and closed his eyes.

He kind of felt like he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week, but no, he couldn’t do that, anyway, he had homework to do tomorrow.  Hungover, that was going to be fun.  Well, it was nothing he hadn’t done before.  He wondered if Sunset would let him spend the night—but probably not, with him as drunk as he was right now, and it wouldn’t be a good idea, anyway, she’d want sex, and they usually got distracted during the day and he never got anything done.  He wasn’t up to pulling an all-nighter to get his work done, not like this.

He scrubbed a hand back over his face again and stretched a little, which was a mistake, since it woke up every strained aching part of him, it felt like.  When he was done wincing and gasping for breath—maybe he needed another drink, fuck—he took a deep breath and eyed the door to the bathroom.

There was no reason to waste time in here.  That was stupid.  He laid his hand on it, took another breath, and then opened it, told himself to stop fucking worrying about the fact he was naked—his clothes were in Sunset’s bedroom, anyway—and started back, trying to walk with as little a limp as he could.  He didn’t think he did that great a job.  But that was the best he could do right now, even if it wasn’t good enough.  It was hard enough to walk in a straight line this drunk, anyway.

“Hey,” he said, knocked on the doorframe before he stepped back in, and tried for another charming smile he had a feeling didn’t quite come off right.  “Did you miss me?”

“Hmm,” Ty said, looking up from where he sat with his arm around Sunset’s shoulders.  He had been running his lips over her shoulder, her robe pushed back to reveal it, up along the line of her neck, and Tony felt his stomach twist.  “Oh,” he said.  “Hey there, Tone.”

Tony bit down, hard, on his tongue, and managed to keep back his initial reaction, which was . . . probably ridiculously upset, over the top.  Right?  “Sunset?” he said instead, as evenly as he could, looking toward her.

But he must not have concealed his hurt as well as he’d hoped, because she just rolled her eyes at him, even as she sat up and pushed Ty away with a brief caress to the back of his neck.  “Well, really, Tony,” she said.  “You took so long we weren’t even sure you were still here.  What did you do, fall asleep in there?”

“It took . . . a few seconds,” Tony allowed, “but Sunset . . . really?”  He hoped he didn’t look too . . . pathetic, too pleading, but he could practically feel the way his eyes were begging her.  He squeezed them shut and turned his face down, away for a moment, trying to capture his composure.

“You don’t own me, Tony,” Sunset told him coldly.  “Don’t act like you do.”

“Sorry,” Tony said.  “I didn’t mean it like that, Sunset, I just . . . .”

“I think after we all enjoyed each other,” Ty said lazily, leaning back to sprawl over the side of the bed, “there’s no need to get all worked up over this sort of thing, wouldn’t you say, Tony?  Or does it have to be about you before we’re allowed to have any sort of fun ourselves?”

“No,” Tony said.  “No, of course . . . not.  It’s not that.”

“Well,” Ty asked, snagging his glass from the nightstand and taking a swallow, “what is it, then?  Explain it to me, genius boy.  You were perfectly willing to have a threesome, even with Ms. Bain here in the middle, weren’t you?  Doesn’t make sense to me, I admit, getting upset after volunteering her like that.”

“I—I didn’t,” Tony said.  But he had suggested that, hadn’t he?  “I mean, sure, but I just thought that . . . was what you two meant.”  Sunset’s words rang in his head again.  She was right; he didn’t own her.  He didn’t . . . he didn’t want to be that kind of guy.  Assuming his . . . his partner would always be there, no matter what.  No matter how badly he acted, or treated her . . . .

He wasn’t his father.

He swallowed.  “Look,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm,” Sunset said, “well.”  She took a sip of her drink, then made a face.  “My ice is starting to melt,” she said distastefully.  “Come here, darling, and won’t you get me a new one?”

Tony started forward, then hesitated, uncertain if she had meant him this time.  She just beckoned him forward impatiently, and when he crossed to her and took her wrist, ran his thumb down the inside of it, she let him.  He took the glass, pressed a light kiss into her palm, against her wrist, and she let him do that, too, then reached up and pulled him in with a hand curled at the back of his neck, fingernails against his nape, to kiss him.  She bit at his bottom lip, then let him go with a smile.

“You’ve made them before,” she said, draping her hand over his shoulder, running a fingernail down his spine, “haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tony said.  “I remember.”

She reached up with one foot, trailed it down his shin from his knee, teasing.  “Good,” she said.  “Very good.”  She shoved at him lightly.  “Now go on.”

Tony hesitated, just a moment—he knew he couldn’t hesitate too long, he didn’t want to annoy Sunset any further, for one thing, and after saying the things he had . . . but he knew he was still limping, and he hadn’t really looked at himself from behind.  He wondered what the view of him they’d have was going to be—it was a clear view from inside the bedroom through the open door to the bar, after all.

But he needed to get going.  Couldn’t waste any more time.  Wasn’t like they hadn’t already had a prime view of his naked ass, right?  He gave Sunset an apologetic little smile and started for the bar, glass in hand, forcing his chin up.  He tried not to limp, again, but he knew he wasn’t succeeding, and he couldn’t manage even half of his usual long stride, so he was sure it looked painfully awkward at best.  He could feel their eyes on him, but he told himself firmly that it was his imagination.  Even though he doubted it was.

It was a relief to get to the bar, even though he knew they could still see him.  When he looked up into the mirror over it, not only could he clearly see himself, still looking like hell warmed over, pale and sweaty, but he could see Ty grin and nudge Sunset, his eyes fixed on Tony’s ass.  Sunset smiled, too.  Tony knew he was walking funny; he wondered if that or the view of his ass was what was amusing them so much.  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask bitterly if they’d enjoyed the show, but he figured he knew what they’d say, and why not?  His stomach twisted tightly, even knowing that they were looking at him now.  He locked his knees, just for a moment, to keep himself from shifting uncomfortably, but he could feel his shoulders hunching.  God, what was he being so self-conscious for? 

Before he poured out Sunset’s drink, he got down a new glass, filled it full of scotch, and knocked it back, poured himself another one, sipped it, and then set it down.

Maybe that would make things easier.  Would help him stop being so damn paranoid, feeling the weight of their eyes on him every second.  Help him relax, just have fun with it. 

He set about pouring out Sunset’s drink, rinsing out the glass, and fixing her a new one. It had to be layered, and it took him a moment to remember that he had to put the honey in later so it sunk to the bottom.

He was just being over-sensitive.  If he’d been feeling better, all of this would have felt flattering, wouldn’t it? Fun.  He’d be laughing right along with them, maybe showing off a little.  It was just because the sex had been a little off that he was feeling so raw and well, bruised, both figuratively and literally.  He couldn’t blame them for acting like he’d had a good time when he hadn’t said anything to give them the impression that it hadn’t been great.  And he wasn’t going to, was he?  So he should just let it go, stop holding it against them.  Play along instead of being such a sensitive, paranoid child, acting like everything they said was a dig, or feeling like they were laughing at him.  He rubbed at his forehead.

“What,” Ty called, “were you running dry?”

Tony shrugged, and finished mixing Sunset’s drink. 

Bartending naked.  This was a new one.

“Get me one, too,” Ty added.

Tony scowled.  “Okay,” he said.  “What do you want?”

“How about a martini?” Ty asked, and Tony glared at him.  He almost always drank whiskey, neat, so he was probably just asking for a mixed drink to be difficult.

“Okay,” Tony said.  “Gin or vodka?”

“Gin,” Ty said.  “Don’t shake it, it—”

“Bruises the gin,” Tony said.  “Yeah, thanks for that, what is this, bartending school?  You want dry gin?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ty said.

Tony shook his head, reaching for the London dry.  He had to bend down to get the martini glass, which made his hips and his back flare back up into soreness, but with the alcohol washing through him again, he hardly felt it; the pain was far away.  He mixed the martini as fast as he could, and knocked back the rest of his own drink before he collected the drinks and carefully made his way back into the bedroom.  He had to watch his feet this time to make sure he didn’t stumble or spill anything, so he didn’t even really look up at them, though he was fully aware that now they were getting a show, from the other side this time.  He handed Sunset her drink first, hoping that the ice hadn’t melted too much.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, skimming her hand up over his thigh so he shivered.  He smiled at her as honestly as he could manage, then gave Ty’s to him.

“Let’s see,” Ty said, and reached up to loop his arm around Tony’s waist before he sipped at it.  “Hmm,” he said, “not bad.”

“Thanks,” Tony said dryly.

“You’re not a bad bartender, Antony,” Ty said with a grin. 

“His doing it naked adds a certain panache, too, wouldn’t you say?” Sunset said archly.

“You want a taste?” Ty asked, tilting the glass up toward him.

“Sure,” Tony said.  He leaned in, let Ty put the glass to his lips, and drank.  Ty was right, it wasn’t a bad martini, he thought with some satisfaction.  To his surprise, as he pulled away, Ty leaned in and kissed him, running his tongue over his lips, dipping it just between them as they parted.  Tony blinked at him, made a surprised noise, and Ty winked and pulled away.

“Delicious,” he said, and Tony felt his skin heat, hoped the blush wasn’t visible.  They usually didn’t show, with his skin tone, at least he had that.  Ty patted his ass and let him go.

“How’s yours?” Tony asked Sunset.

“Not bad at all,” she said.

“Oh, good,” Tony said, relieved.  He looked around for his clothes.

“Looking for something, sweetheart?” Sunset asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said, “get dressed?”

“Little late for modesty, don’t you think?” Ty asked from behind him.

“I’m cold,” Tony said shortly.

“Well, then come here and sit with me,” Sunset said.  “That should keep you warm.”

But he wanted to get dressed, Tony thought.  He closed his teeth over his tongue, bit down on it.  There wasn’t much room next to the director’s chair Sunset was sitting in, though.  Not many places to sit in her bedroom, really, except the bed.  He could kneel on the floor, he supposed, but . . . no.  Or have her sit on his lap.  But the very thought of that made his ass hurt, and she wouldn’t want to move, anyway.  He crossed over to stand behind the chair, sliding his arms around her and resting his cheek against her hair.

“Yes, you have goosebumps, dearest, my goodness,” Sunset observed, running one fingernail up the skin of Tony’s forearm, sending his skin prickling with gooseflesh in its wake.  Tony stepped forward, snugged himself more in against her back, until he could feel his hips bracketing hers, the slide of her chiffon robe and the warmth of her body, through the gap in the chair.  His dick stayed mostly uninterested, but the warmth and contact felt good.

“’m okay,” he murmured.

“I think you’re very drunk,” she observed, and he laughed a bit.

“Probably,” he said, and pressed a kiss against the shell of her ear.  She smiled and tilted her head, letting him gently pull her hair back behind her ear, tracing down her neck with his fingers before he began to press kisses there, keeping his mouth slow and soft.

“Definitely,” she said, and reached up with her free hand to curl her fingers in his hair.  When Tony moved to raise his head, press a kiss to her cheek, her fingers tightened, holding his head down, his mouth to her neck, so he willingly continued laying kisses across the skin, up to her jaw, then down to her shoulder, careful not to do anything that could leave any marks.

“Aww,” Ty said, mockingly.

“Ignore him, darling,” Sunset said, tracing Tony’s ear with one fingertip.  Ty just laughed.  “I suppose we should give him the benefit of the doubt,” Sunset said to Ty, “considering.”

Tony froze a moment, until Sunset pulled on his hair and he went back to what he was doing, laying soft kisses behind her ear.

“Considering what?” Ty asked.  “How loaded he is?  Sure, I guess that explains his bedroom technique.”  He laughed.  “Or lack of it.”

Tony went cold, then hot with indignant humiliation.  “Hey,” he said, as hotly as he could without Sunset letting him up so the words were muffled against her neck.

“Shush, darling,” Sunset said.  “It wasn’t bad.  A bit sloppy, maybe, but considering how drunk you were—and your Caesar can be rather overwhelming, can’t he?”

“I could have done better if you hadn’t tied me up,” Tony said, blankly.  His face still felt very hot.

Sunset laughed.  “Well, of course you could,” she said.  “That isn’t the point, is it?”

Ty shook his head.  “You don’t have the first clue about how to bottom, do you, Antony?” he asked.

“Uh,” Tony said.  He looked at Sunset.   Hadn’t he bottomed for her before?  Or, well, maybe that didn’t count.  Did it count if it didn’t involve his ass?  “I . . . .”

“Maybe not for you,” Sunset said to Ty, and laughed again.  She put one hand on Tony’s neck, pulled him down into a kiss, and he leaned forward with a puff of surprised air, let her kiss him, still feeling rather lost and humiliated, but it was hard to think with his head fuzzy and warm from the alcohol.

“I can do better next time,” Tony promised against her lips.

“I know you will,” Sunset murmured, scratching at the back of his neck with her nails.

“I mean,” Ty said, rolling the stem of the martini glass between his fingers, “some people like it when the bottom just spreads his legs and takes it, but I like a little more participation.”

“I was busy,” Tony said, tense, when Sunset let him pull away.

“Don’t make excuses,” Sunset told him, and trailed her fingers down his throat.  “It doesn’t suit you.”

Tony’s face felt even hotter now.  “I just . . .” he said.  “I mean.  Right.”  He wasn’t sure what more he could have done, but he figured that was just a function of his inexperience, so he couldn’t exactly say that, could he?  “It’ll be more fun next time,” he told Ty with a forced grin.  “That’s a promise.”

“Only,” Sunset said coolly, “if I say that’s all right, I assume.”

“Oh,” Tony said.  “Yeah, I—I mean, of course, honey.  I just . . . thought you meant another threesome.”  He bit the inside of his cheek.  That had been stupid.  It had sounded like he was planning to cheat on her with Ty, and he wasn’t, and assuming they even wanted another threesome after how badly he’d apparently done, was—was presumptuous at best.

“Hmm, well,” Sunset said.  “I suppose I don’t mind the sound of that.  We could try it sometime.”  She kissed him again, lightly, smoothing her lips over his, and Tony caught his breath on the lump that formed in his throat from pure relief.

“Maybe someday,” Ty said, taking another swallow of his drink.

“It’ll be fun,” Sunset said, and tapped her fingers against Tony’s collarbone.  He swallowed, fairly sure he should feel relieved, but not sure, really, how that made him feel.  He pressed another kiss against her hair anyway, and she ran her nails down the line of his collarbone.  “All right,” she said, after a moment, and flicked one finger over the dip of his sternum.

“All right?” Tony said.

“You might as well get dressed,” she said, nudging him away, and he felt a surprising sense of loss at the rejection and bit the inside of his cheek again.  The chill swept over him, and he did his best not to shiver as he reached for his clothes.

He had to bend over to pick them up and Ty whistled, long and low.  Tony did his best to ignore him, but then he realized that his boxers weren’t with the rest of his clothes and had to look around for them, and eventually Sunset whistled for him, too.  When he looked up she was holding his boxers, and she grinned and tossed them to him.

“Thanks,” Tony murmured.

“Oh, you’re very welcome,” she said, and Ty just laughed.  Tony rubbed one hand over his face and just ignored him as he pulled the boxers back on, then his shirt, and did the buttons up to his collarbone as fast as he could.  He followed that by pulling on his slacks, grabbing his tie off the bed and stuffing it in his pocket.

“If you’re covered to your satisfaction,” Sunset said finally, “baby boy, why don’t we move into the other room?  There’s more room to sit in there.”

Tony winced, and he almost wanted to say that she’d been the one who’d told him to get dressed—but then, he had wanted to put his clothes back on, so he supposed he didn’t have any right to complain.

“Okay,” he muttered, “sure.”  And he didn’t think until he was settling down beside Sunset on the sofa, the place she’d patted next to her, about how much it was going to hurt to sit down, even though he’d avoided it until then, however badly his muscles cried out with the strain of constantly standing after so much exertion.  The extra glass or so of scotch had made that easier, though also made it harder to keep his balance.  He folded one leg under him, braced it against the sofa cushion, and settled onto it as carefully as he could, even though the position made his hip ache so badly he could feel it even through the alcohol haze.

Sunset reached up and brushed his cheek, running her thumb over his bruised bottom lip before she brushed her knuckles along his jaw.  “So, baby,” she said.  “Enjoy yourself?”

Ty laughed, settling onto the sofa on Tony’s other side and letting his arm fall around him, almost touching Sunset.  “Sure he did,” he said.  “He had a hell of a lot of fun.  You saw that as clearly as I did.  He came, didn’t he?”

That was true, Tony thought dazedly.  That was perfectly true.  He had come, and . . . and that part had felt good.  Really good.  Though a little humiliating, coming apart so completely from Ty’s hand in his ass.  He hid his frown by looking down at his own knee.

Sunset smiled and tilted his face back up with her fingers against his cheek, dipping them under his jaw.  “That’s certainly true,” she said.  “You definitely looked like you were having a good time.”

“Did I?” Tony asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Ty said.  “You were loving it, babe.  Grinding down on my hand like that, you couldn’t get enough, could you?  You should have seen yourself.”

He’d seen himself after, was all Tony could think, with a twist of embarrassment at how bad he knew he looked.  He wondered if he’d looked different in the moment, strung out and dazed with pleasure.  He must have, based on what they were saying.  He felt his face starting to flush.  “Well, I . . . I mean, yeah, that part was good,” he said.

Sunset raised her eyebrows.  “That part?” she asked.

“The beginning just wasn’t so . . . great for me,” Tony said.  “Not bad, you know,” he hastened to assure them.  “A little uncomfortable, I guess.”

“You were just way too tense, that’s all it was,” Ty said dismissively.  “You think too much sometimes, Antony.  It’s not all about you, you know?”  He jostled Tony with one shoulder, a bump Tony knew was supposed to be friendly.  “It’s a threesome, not a floorshow.”

“Yes,” Sunset agreed, making a face, “goodness, Tony.  You weren’t the only one there, were you?  We made certain you felt good.  Do you really begrudge us our fun, too?”

“No!” Tony protested, feeing suddenly cold all over again, as if he’d never put his clothes back on.  “No, of course not.”

“You just didn’t care if we got off at all?” Sunset asked.  “That wasn’t fun for you?  I thought you enjoyed making me come, darling.  I wouldn’t have made you all those times if I realized it was so unpleasant for you.”

“No!” Tony said urgently, “of course not.”  He swallowed.  He was saying everything wrong tonight; he sounded like such an idiot.  He was an idiot.  He was so lucky to be with Sunset, and he knew it, so why did he keep saying things to make her think he didn’t appreciate her?  “You know I love that.  I love watching you come, honey, I . . . I think I could get off just from that sometimes.  You know that.  You know I feel that way.”

“Hmm,” she said.  “Do I know that?”

“Here,” he said, desperate, “let me show you.”  He leaned forward into her, reached out, skimmed one hand up her thigh, beneath her sheer robe, letting his hand slide over the smooth, warm skin of her hip and linger there.  She let him duck his head and press his lips to her neck, run them down over her throat to her collarbone as he brought his other hand in to stroke gently over her stomach and pushing her robe up to reveal her legs, to rest over her hips.  She sighed, spread her legs apart to let him trace his fingers down over her thigh, dip his head to lay his lips against the upper swell of her breast, but then she was pushing him away with one hand against his shoulder.  He had a moment of confusion, not sure what was going on, before he sat back, let her push him away.

“Shower first,” she said dismissively, distaste in her tone.  “You smell.”

“All that sweat,” Ty said, laughing, and ruffled his hair, pushing it up against the back of Tony’s neck, pushing his head down even when he tried to shrug him off.  He couldn’t shake him off, even as Ty leaned in and sniffed the back of his neck ostentatiously.  Tony scowled.  “Yeah, you stink,” Ty said.

“Let go of me,” Tony muttered, and he sounded horribly sullen, even to himself, but he couldn’t seem to help it.  He pushed Ty away, staggered to his feet.  “I’ll be right back,” he said, and this time he didn’t lift his head, just kept his eyes on his feet as he headed for the shower.  His stomach hurt, but he didn’t think about it, just about getting his clothes off and himself into the shower and clean as quickly and efficiently as he could.  The water was still cold when he stepped under it, but he didn’t care.

At least this was a chance to wash off whatever was left on him from . . . before, he figured.  He watched the water as it ran into the drain beneath his feet and scrubbed harshly at his arms, his shoulders and neck with the soap, feeling the spray plastering his hair across his forehead and blinking, a little dully, as it spit water into his eyes.

He showered as quickly as he could, then found his deodorant, the stick he kept in Sunset’s cabinet, and put that on, after he’d dried himself off.  That finished, he folded the towels and draped them over the edge of the shower to dry, cleaned up a bit, and pulled his clothes back on, sniffing at them to make certain they weren’t too sweaty.  They mostly still smelled like soap and a whiff of cologne, not his body, so that was something.  He got dressed as quickly as he could and started back into the other room, wondering if he’d find Ty and Sunset together again.  His stomach felt knotted, twisted and aching with anxiety, though he wasn’t sure if it was over that or something else.  He felt very drunk—the shower hadn’t cleared his head at all, it felt like more the opposite.  He had to support himself on the wall again as he started back.

Sunset and Ty were talking and laughing when he came in, and he heard his name, but at least they were sitting where he’d left them, separated by enough space, well, for Tony’s body.  They looked up as he came in, and he tried again to take a deep breath, put his shoulders back and smile.  “Hey,” he said.  “All clean.”  He gave his best teasing grin, or at least the best one he could summon, which felt rather crooked and weak on his lips, and leaned over the back of the sofa, holding out one arm for Sunset.  “Any better?  I pass inspection?”

“Better,” she said, and allowed him to turn his head, lean in and kiss her, even leaned into him, curling her hand around the back of his neck, sliding her fingers into his hair.  Tony slumped with relief, he couldn’t help it, and concentrated entirely on kissing her the best he knew how, not letting it get too sloppy or uncontrolled.

“Do you mind sharing?” Ty asked.  He traced one finger over the back of Tony’s hand, back over his wrist, up under the loose cuff of his shirt.  “God, Antony, you really are whipped.”

“He’s a very good boyfriend,” Sunset said, stroking her hand down over Tony’s cheek, against his jaw, and Tony smiled back, knowing it was wide and soft as he felt himself go warm with pleasure, amazed that she would say something like that about him.  She brushed one hand over Tony’s lips.  “If you wanted him, you should have kept him.”

“No, Ty and I aren’t like that,” Tony said with a smile back at Ty.  “Right?”

“Mmm,” Ty said, but Tony was already looking back at Sunset.  “Should I?” he said, gesturing at the place between Ty and Sunset on the sofa.

“Yes,” Sunset said, and finished the last of her drink, handing it to Tony.  “Come here, darling.”  Tony set the glass on a coaster on the nearby coffee table and skirted the edge of the sofa again to gingerly settle himself in between them again.  “Now,” she said, tracing her fingers down over his shoulder.  “You were going to show me what you can do for me.”

“First let me have a turn,” Ty said, and then his hand was on the side of Tony’s face, making him twist around so that Ty could kiss him.  He pressed him back into the back of the sofa so that his back twisted and his hips flared painfully, and he couldn’t get any leverage, and proceeded to kiss him roughly, demanding, overwhelmingly, until it was all Tony could do to lie back under it, his head swimming too badly to even really kiss back.  He wasn’t sure how long the kiss went on; it seemed to last forever, until Ty released him.  Tony lay there, gasping.

“All right,” Sunset said, sounding bored and impatient.  “Not that it’s not a lovely picture to see you two kissing, but Tony here promised me something.”  She patted his knee, squeezed it lightly.  Tony was still dizzy, enough that he was grateful when Ty laid one hand on his back and pushed him upright, steadying him.

“Sorry,” Tony told her.  He smiled a little at Ty, not wanting to give him the impression that he had been unwilling or anything, before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the base of Sunset’s throat.  He opened her robe, undoing the ties and smoothing it back with careful fingers, even as he brought his mouth down over her chest, her breasts, ran his fingers over them and down her sides.  Ty, meanwhile, was nosing at the back of Tony’s neck, curling fingers in his damp hair, running his hands down his back, over his shirt, making Tony tremble and struggle to focus on what he was doing for Sunset.  Ty squeezed his ass, and Tony had to bite back a yelp, knew he shuddered. 

Ty must have liked that reaction because he did it again, squeezed the same hand at Tony’s hip a moment later.  It hurt, vaguely, even through the haze of alcohol and the focus Tony was keeping on what he was doing for Sunset, but he did his best to push it to the back of his mind, not to let the tremors the touches sent through him throw off what he was doing for Sunset, running his fingers and mouth slowly over her.  She sighed, tilted her head back against the sofa so that her neck arched, her hair fanning dramatically over the leather, and spread her legs again, raising her knee a bit, bracing her arm over it, and Tony was struck again with how effortlessly beautiful she was.  Ty knew all the sensitive spots on his sides and back and wasn’t shy about playing them, making Tony gasp and tremble even as he traced his tongue over the valley between Sunset’s breasts.  He felt very warm, rather tingling and dizzy with what was almost a sense of vertigo, though he wasn’t sure if it was desire, or what.  His cock stayed soft and tired between his legs.  He kept shivering, despite the warmth.

Finally, Ty skimmed a finger along his spine, ruffled his hair, and pulled away.  “Going to take a shower,” he said to Sunset.  “If that’s all right with you.”

“Mmm,” she said, stroking one hand absently through Tony’s hair as he played his mouth over one of her breasts, working at the other with his hand, teasing it gently.  “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Ty said, and Tony could practically hear the grin in his voice.  “Enjoy.”

Tony raised his head, to say something to Ty or smile at him as he went, or something, he was thinking, but Sunset just murmured, “Don’t mind him, darling,” and pushed his head back down, so he lowered his mouth to her again obediently.

He spent a good while just kissing her breasts and chest, along her collarbones, down over her stomach despite the way it hurt around his hips when he bent himself over, then up over her breasts again, but he didn’t dare to delay too long, because Sunset tended to get impatient.  So when her fingers started to tighten in his hair, and her nipples were peaked, breasts heavy and flushed, and she had spread her legs even wider, arched her back, he skimmed his hand down over her stomach, and dared to raise his head.  “Do you mind if I . . . is it all right if I just use my hand?” he asked.  He was so tired, and it was still hard to catch his breath at times.  He wasn’t sure how good a job he’d do with his mouth a second time.

“Yes,” she said, “I suppose.  Since I know your hands are clean.”  She caught his wrist, dragged his hand up to inspect his nails, then let it go with a shrug.  “Yes,” she said, and smiled at him.  “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.  “We don’t have all night.”

“Yeah,” he said, with the best smile he could summon in return, and moved his hand back down, skimming it over her chest and down her stomach, teasing gently over her before he laid his thumb against her clit and rotated it in soft circles, returning his mouth to her shoulder.  By the time he dipped one finger inside her, she was wet against the pad of it, and he was relieved as he laid soft kisses between her breasts.  He was careful not to be too much of a tease, pushing more firmly when she demanded more or spread her legs, arched her back demandingly, pressing inside with two fingers while he worked at her clit with his thumb.  He wasn’t sure how long it had been when she tugged his head up and kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip and pressing her tongue demandingly into his mouth, kissing the breath at him even as he kept his hand working at her, spreading his fingers and swirling his thumb against her. 

They spent so long kissing he was dizzy from hardly breathing and his hand started to ache from the position.  He turned his mind away from the pain of it and concentrated on the wet heat around his fingers, the way she fluttered and clenched around him, the way she smelled, like her perfume and sex, and, well, sweat, but it smelled good on her.  She dug her teeth into his bottom lip when she came, arched her back and gave a low, guttural cry against his mouth, then let him go, pulled away from the kiss.  He kept his hand moving, though he moved his thumb away from her clit, working her through it until she pushed him away.

“Lick me clean,” she said, lazily, tugging at his hair, pushing his head down, and he didn’t protest, even though he had just wanted to use his hand, because it gave his fingers and wrist a break, just slid down to his knees and began to gently, obediently lap up her slickness, keeping his tongue very gentle and careful.  He lost track of time again, just tasting the slickness of her, the wet musk of her sex, the way she felt and tasted against him, until she nudged him with her knee and pushed him back with one hand on his shoulder.  “That’s enough, baby,” she said, and he withdrew, wiping his mouth and licking his fingers dry one by one, looking up at her.  She smiled lazily, indulgently at him, licked her bottom lip, and when he was finished, patted the space beside her on the sofa again.  He climbed to his feet a little clumsily and sat down carefully beside her again, pulling her robe closed and retying it when she gestured at it.

“Was that good?” he asked, trying not to sound hesitant.

“Mmm,” she said, and smiled at him.  “That was what I wanted.”

“Good,” he said, and smiled back, grateful when a moment later she let him rest his head against her shoulder.  He traced his fingers absently over her chest, careful not to touch her anywhere where she might be too sensitive.  He pressed a kiss against her shoulder.  “I’m glad it was good,” he murmured.

“So am I,” Sunset said with a laugh, and ran her fingers back through his hair.

“I love you,” he whispered reverently against her skin, the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck, and she laughed again.

“And you love doing that, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Tony said, and kissed her neck again.  “Of course I do.”  He smiled up at her, and felt like it looked a little glazed and dopey, but maybe she wouldn’t mind.

She traced a finger down over his swollen bottom lip.  “You love pleasing me,” she said, and he nodded.

“Of course I do,” he murmured, and kissed the pad of her finger when it passed over the seam of his lips.

“So tonight must have been very fun for you, baby boy,” she said, and tapped her finger gently against his lips, “because you were very fun to watch.”

Tony felt himself flush, and he ducked his head, biting his lip and looking down, not quite sure how to respond to that.  “Was I?” he asked, and he knew it sounded rough.

“Very,” she said, and laughed, reached down and squeezed his nipple through his shirt, smiling at him when he jerked, widely enough that her eyes crinkled up.  “You’re so responsive,” she said.

“I’m glad I wasn’t too . . .” Tony said, and shrugged one shoulder, looked away

“What?” Sunset asked, her fingers stroking down the middle of his chest.

“I don’t know,” he said, feeling his shoulders slump.  “Dull?” he looked back at her and smiled a little.  “Selfish?”

“You were fine,” she said, and patted his side.  “And I know you, you learn so quickly.  You’ll do better next time.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, looking down, “I will.” He was glad when she let him lean against her again, bury his face back in her shoulder.  He didn’t want to have to do better next time.  He wanted to have done well enough this time.  But he supposed he just had to live with his performance as it was, and at least be happy with the fact that he had satisfied her just now.  She was very warm, and it was nice to let his head rest against her, to lean against the soft curve of her body, wrap his arm around her.  He pressed kisses against her shoulder, stroked her side, feeling very warm himself, and oddly dizzy, still, like he was floating.  She let him curl his arms around her, one around her shoulders and another around her side, and nuzzle into the side of her neck, and stroked his hair for a while, but after a bit she stopped doing that.

It was sometime later when Ty came back in; Tony heard his voice above his head, talking to Sunset, and after a moment she pushed him away, and he raised his head, confused, only to find Ty grinning at him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, running a thumb over his chin.  “Um, hi,” Tony said, and grinned.  “Good shower?”

Ty laughed.  He smelled a little like Sunset’s shampoo; it was weird.  “Very good,” he said.  “Wow, you’re drunk, aren’t you, T?”

Tony guessed he must be.  He lifted his head, searching for Sunset.  “Sunset?” he asked, still a little disoriented.  “Honey?”

“If you’re going to want to cuddle,” Sunset said, smiling at him, “go on and do it with Mr. Stone.  I’m getting warm.”

“Oh,” Tony said.  He laid one hand on Ty’s shoulder and struggled up, searching for her, to apologize.  “Sorry.”

She waved one hand at him, even as Ty slid his arm around Tony’s waist, tucked his hand into the pocket of Tony’s slacks, tugging him close.  Ty pulled him in, laid his other hand back on his chin and tilted his head up for a kiss, and Tony let him, let his head be tilted back and his mouth kissed so thoroughly he felt rather dizzy, like his lips were being bruised.  He didn’t have much energy for kissing back, though he did his best to use his tongue and lips, but Ty didn’t seem to mind.  Eventually the kiss ended, and Tony laid back against the back of the sofa, gasping for breath, even as Ty rubbed at his thigh, teased his hand along his chest, plucking at his nipple through his shirt.  He was too tired and breathless to react, and just stayed there, twisted so much of his weight fell on one hip and not his ass and let his head be pillowed by the sofa.

“So,” Ty said, “Sunset, how was he?”  He squeezed Tony’s hip again, and he grunted, because it did hurt.

“Convincing,” Sunset said.

“Really?” Ty said, feigning surprise.

“I’m not bad at sex,” Tony told him.

“What you are is practically passed out,” Ty told him, and Tony shrugged, reached up and touched Ty’s lips with one hand.

“Didn’ stop you,” he pointed out.

Ty smiled.  “What was I supposed to do when you practically plastered yourself to me?” he asked, and tweaked Tony’s cock lightly through his slacks.

Tony shrugged again.  “S’okay,” he told him.  “Sorry if I’m not more fun.  But I think I’m . . . I’m done for the night.  Had a lot to drink,” he added apologetically.

“I bet I could get you going again,” Ty told him.  “You know you’re a slutty drunk.  Besides, you’ve got a hard head.”

“Sorry, Ty,” Tony told him.  His head was swimming dizzily, even more so than before.  “I’m done.”

“Aw,” Ty said, but he took his hand off Tony’s cock, at least.  “Well, if you insist.”

“Don’t insist,” Tony said.  He didn’t want to sound too selfish again.  “Just . . . tired.”  He rolled his head to one side and smiled up at Ty, letting his hand rest limply beside his head on the back of the sofa instead of propping his head up with it.

“I am tired, too,” Sunset announced.  “In fact, I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’m going to bed.  By the time I’m out of the shower, I expect you two to be gone.”  She stood up, and Tony raised his head, pushing himself up clumsily to look up at her.

“How should I get home?” he asked.

“I assumed Tiberius would take you,” she said.  “Considering he brought you, and that you seem like you’d drive yourself into a tree left to yourself.  Come on now, baby boy, give me a kiss good night.”

Tony nodded, pushed himself to his feet, then kissed her, curving one hand against the side of her face, skimming his fingers down over her neck, as he gave her a soft, slow kiss.

“Mmm,” she said, and pulled away.

“See you on Wednesday,” Tony said, “for our date?”

She smiled.  “Yes,” she said.  “Wednesday it is, honey.  Pick me up here.  Don’t be late.” She touched one finger to her lips, then his, then turned away.  Tony watched her go before he turned back to Ty.

“So?” he said.  “I’ll get my shoes on, and we can go.”

“What about my good night kiss?” Ty asked from where he had sprawled out over the side of the couch.

“We’re not saying good night yet,” Tony pointed out, but he put one knee on the couch beside Ty’s and leaned in to kiss him, brushing their lips lightly together.

“C’mon, what was that?” Ty drawled.  “Give me a real kiss, princess.”

Tony frowned at him, but grabbed both sides of his head and dragged him into a fierce kiss, pressing his tongue into his mouth and kissing him as hotly and passionately as he could with what little energy he had, pushing him back against the sofa himself this time.  Ty pulled him close with one hand on his back, kissing him back, and Tony’s mouth felt ravaged again when he pulled away, but at least he’d left Ty panting for breath against the back of the sofa.  He climbed to his feet.  “Okay,” he said, blearily.  “Shoes.  I’ll be right back.”

It was trickier than he’d realized it was going to be to get his shoes on.  Sitting down really did hurt, and bending over hurt, too, and his fingers were clumsy and stupid on the laces.  Finally, he finished, feeling sweaty again from the effort, and lurched back up to his feet.

“Took you long enough,” Ty said, already dressed and waiting by the door, his arms crossed loosely across his chest as he leaned against the wall.  Tony wondered how he always managed to look so easy and relaxed.  He wished he could do that. 

Tony shrugged.  “Told you I was tired,” he said.  He sighed, picked up their glasses and took them to the sink to rinse them out, then dried them and put them away, capping all the bottles they’d opened and putting them away, too.

“So what,” Ty said, grinning, “you fell asleep in there?”

Tony rolled his eyes at him.  “Scotch and shoelaces don’t mix,” he said.  “Ancient Stark family saying.”  He scowled down at the sink, thinking about his dad.  He’d probably never had trouble with his shoelaces.

“So can we get out of here any time soon?” Ty asked.  “Or are you going to scrub the floors, too, Cinderella?  What’s all this cleaning shit about?”

“What’s the rush all of a sudden?” Tony asked.  “You wanna take me to the ball or something?”  He narrowed his eyes at Ty, seeing him smirk.  “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said, “it’s probably a lame pun, am I right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ty said.

“Save it,” Tony said.

“Aww,” Ty said.  “You’re no fun, Antony.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” Tony told him, “and you just had it. Take me home instead.”  He finished up at the bar and starting toward Ty at the door.  He spared one more glance for the device Sunset had lying on her coffee table, and almost made a detour to bend down and look at it again, maybe pick it up.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Ty said.  “I know you, you’ll get absorbed in transistors and we’ll be here for five more hours.”  He grabbed Tony’s shoulder and steered him toward the door.

“I was just about to leave,” Tony said, outside, a little belatedly.  He suddenly felt extremely cold, and he pulled his suit jacket on to help with his shivers, though it took him what felt like an inordinately long amount of time to get it on over his arms.

“Sure you were,” Ty said.  “Car.”  He shoved him lightly in the right direction.  Tony managed to get the door open and settled into the seat, then winced at the sudden pain.  He’d forgotten.  He managed to balance himself more on one hip and was looking out the window, feeling like he needed some air again, when Ty leaned over and tilted his face toward him, kissing him again.  Tony opened his mouth, leaning into it mostly to get his weight off his ass.  He only got his hands up, pushed Ty away when his hands started to wander down his body.

“I’m done, Ty,” he said tiredly.  “Sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Ty asked, smearing his thumb across Tony’s lips.

“I’m sure,” Tony said.  “Can we just . . . “ he nodded at the stick.

“Car sex?” Ty asked, grinning.

“Ty,” Tony groaned.

“Kidding, kidding,” he said, and shoved lightly at Tony’s shoulder.  “Sit back and relax, Antony, I’ll get you home.”

“Thanks,” Tony told him, sincerely, and propped his head on one arm, leaning back in the seat.  He hoped the ride was going to be a smooth one.  He closed his eyes.

Ty tried to make conversation on the way home, and Tony did his best to respond, but his mind had wandered, and he felt slow and thick and half-asleep, what little conscious thought he had left devoted to shifting in minute increments over the seat, trying to keep his ass from getting too uncomfortable in a way Ty wouldn’t notice.  Ty had to shake him by the shoulder when they got there, though, Tony still blinking and wondering why they’d stopped.  He staggered out of the car, and Ty wrapped one arm around his shoulders and helped him to the door of his apartment, Tony leaning on him gratefully.

“I hope you appreciate this,” Ty muttered into his hair.

“I do,” Tony hastened to assure him.  “I really do.”  He smiled at him gratefully.  “You’re a real friend, y’know, Caesar?”

“Haha,” Ty said.  “You are hilarious when you’re drunk, baby.”

“S’not a joke,” Tony said, confused.  “I mean it.”

“I know,” Ty said.

“Oh,” Tony said.  “Okay.”  He smiled at Ty as Ty pulled his arm off of Tony’s shoulders.  He wasn’t expecting to be kissed again, pulled up against Ty’s body as Ty slid his hands down over his sides, rubbed his groin against him, but he supposed he should have, really.  He let Ty kiss him and fondle him for a while, because he was grateful, but when Ty started biting down the side of his neck and fumbling with his shirt and belt, he pushed him away.

“Sorry, T,” he said, panting for breath.  “I . . . I really am done.”

“C’mon,” Ty said.  “You won’t have to do anything.  I won’t stay.”

“I have homework to do tomorrow,” Tony said, “and I really am tired, okay? I . . .” he swallowed and flushed, looking down and away.  “I wouldn’t be any good,” he said.  “You know?”  It was a wrench to admit that, after everything, but he just couldn’t summon any more energy, even to please his best friend.

“You’d just have to lie there,” Ty said.  “C’mon.”

“I thought you didn’t like that,” Tony said, low, swallowing, and stared down at the ground under Ty’s shoes.  “Hell, I’d probably fall asleep on you or some shit.”  He summoned up a grin, somehow.  “I’m just going to go roll into bed.  Some other time, all right?”

“Fine,” Ty said, and rolled his eyes.  “Fine.”  He nudged Tony in the shoulder.  “But you owe me one.”

“Right,” Tony said, and smiled at him.  “No problem.  Good night, Caesar.”

Ty waved a bit at him and started back to his car, and Tony finally got the door open and stumbled into his own apartment.  He locked the door behind him and then just stood there a moment, then wiped his mouth with one hand and stumbled for the bathroom.  It didn’t occur to him to turn on a light until he was in there.  He thought he wanted a bath, but then he looked at it, and thought about lying down on his back, and how it would feel to lie on his ass and his shoulders, and changed his mind.  Shower.

A really hot shower.

He’d just taken one . . . how long had it been?  But suddenly the idea felt irresistible.  He was desperate for one, to smell his own soap and his own shampoo, and feel really honestly clean.

Sure enough, the hot water felt amazing when it cascaded down over his shoulders.  He braced both hands against the wall and just let it wash down over him, ducking his head under it.

He lost track of time.  Things fuzzed out a little, again, there was just warmth and the pressure of the water and . . . it felt good.  He kept blinking water out of his eyes, reminding himself to rinse, scrub, wash his hair, but he was shocked when the water started to run cold.  He’d never run out of hot water before in this apartment.

He stumbled out of the shower and dried himself off, a little haphazardly, then folded the towel.  He used the toilet, washed his hands, brushed his teeth.

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so strange.  He rubbed one hand back through his hair.  It was just drunken fun with some friends.  Something he’d done hundreds of times, though with more . . . sex.

Right.  Sex.  A threesome—how about that?  He envisioned himself telling his dad, for a second.  So, what did you do over the weekend, boy?

You know, homework, same as always.  Oh, and I had a threesome.

His dad would have a heart attack.

That’d show him, wouldn’t it?  Who was the man now?  Sissies didn’t have threesomes, right?

Though he supposed having a guy fuck him in the ass would count as a pretty sissy thing to do in Howard’s book.  His stomach clenched, turned over.  That wasn’t manly at all, was it?

Whatever.  Didn’t matter anyway.  He shook his head at himself, got himself a glass of water, drank it, got himself another one and drank that, too, then turned off the lights in the bathroom, and made his way into his bedroom in the dark.  He was about to fall into bed, but then backtracked, dug out his winter pajamas, the ones Jarvis had packed for him even though Tony had told him four separate times he wasn’t going to need them.

They were flannel and striped and almost unbearably matching.  Tony pulled on a loose pair of boxers, then the pajamas, then finally let himself crawl into bed.

He pulled the blankets up over his head and lay there for a second.  His head swam, and he felt dizzy, almost like he was falling, not lying in his own bed.  He could smell his own sheets, though.  It was nice.  He pressed his cheek into them.  He was so tired, why wasn’t he falling asleep?

Well, he usually lay on his back, sprawled out, there was that.  He wasn’t about to try it now.  He’d tested that variable more than enough already, thank you.

Fuck, he was going to be so sore tomorrow.  Better not to think about that.

He lay there a moment longer, then, without letting himself think about it too much, pulled down one of his pillows and wrapped his arms around it.  He buried his face in it.

It smelled like exactly what it was, like his own pillow, nothing more or less.  It was soft.  He pulled it closer into his chest.

He really needed to start his homework as soon as the hangover wore off tomorrow.  There was a lot of it, and some of the equations were going to be pretty tricky.  He sighed, summoned what he remembered of them to the front of his mind.

His last conscious thought was the beginning of the solution to one of the equations.  The simple cleanness of the numbers was soothing, welcoming, and he fell into it and was asleep a moment later, the proof he was working on trailing off into white noise in his head.