![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Package Deal
Title: Package Deal
Author:the_deep_magic
For:edie22
Pairing: Chris/Zach/Anton (with established Pinto)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,108
Summary: Anton wants to know what he’s been missing out on.
Warning: threesome (should be obvious, but just so you know)
Disclaimer: The names are real, but everything else is a lie.
A/N: First time writing Anton. He doesn’t usually do it for me, but the prompt grabbed my brain and wouldn’t let go. I think it turned out rather nicely. Written for round 2 at trekrpfexchange
“…so then I start to think: what am I missing out on, exactly?”
“And you came to me for, what, detailed description? Full color photos?”
Anton squirms in his seat, failing entirely to stop the blush that spreads over his cheeks. “I just— I know you’re bi, right? And I was thinking maybe…” He trails off, completely unable to finish the sentence.
Chris just laughs. “Are you propositioning me?”
“Well, look, I know I can trust you. I realize you’re, um, a man of discriminating tastes, but—“
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” chuckles Chris into his beer, which he then sets back down next to Anton’s Sprite. Anton hates that Sprite. Chris leans forward conspiratorially. “But there’s something you need to know first.”
Anton leans forward too, mentally bracing himself.
“Me and Zach,” is all Chris says.
“You and Zach what?” Then it hits him. “Oh. Oh. Since when?”
“During filming. He was so awed by my lexical prowess that he jumped me.”
Anton sits for a minute to let that sink in, then sort of wishes it hadn’t. “Well, you’re doing a shit job of hiding it,” he says at last.
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, my young friend,” Chris says with a wink. As if he’s not… well, he is almost a decade older than Anton. But they’re both in their twenties. Whatever. “Hiding in plain sight. Letting the press think it’s a joke. Fooled you, didn’t it?”
“So I guess that’s a no, then,” Anton sighs. He had been so sure…
“Not necessarily,” says Chris, and Anton perks back up again. Well, parts of him perk back up.
“He’d let you—“
“He’d join in.” Anton fidgets again, wrapping the paper from his drinking straw around his index finger. “That a problem?” Chris asks.
“No, not really, it’s just… Zach scares me. A little.”
Chris lets out an honest-to-god guffaw, as if that’s the funniest thing he’s heard in weeks, and Anton tries to sink down lower into the booth.
“Shit,” says Chris in an attempt at a conciliatory tone, which doesn’t quite succeed since he’s still wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes. “No, I totally get that. Zach can be… intense. He likes to push people, help them find their limits. But I promise you, he will never push you farther than you’re willing to go. And – trust me on this – he responds really, really well when you push back.”
Anton isn’t sure he wants to think about that just yet, so he asks, “You two do this a lot – bring in other people?”
“Not a lot. Only occasionally with people we know and trust. We’re both kind of exhibitionists, and this is a lot safer than, say, making a sex tape or fucking in elevators.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Well, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but… Remember when we were filming on the bridge and Karl kept breaking character ‘cause he was in too good a mood?”
“Oh, god.” Anton is torn between thinking seriously, Karl? and hey, that’s kind of hot. “Does— does his wife know?”
“Apparently it’s his birthday present for the next, like, ten years.”
Anton takes a deep breath. “Okay. I want in.”
“Okay,” agrees Chris with a slow, wicked grin. “I’ll have my people call your people.”
&&&
He’s almost afraid he’s got the wrong time, or the wrong night, or – god help him – the wrong apartment number after the third time he rings the doorbell. But then Chris opens the door, hair disheveled and shirt untucked. “Hey, right on time! C’mon in.”
As he walks in the front door, Anton sees Zach rise from the couch looking as put-together and composed as Chris isn’t – save for the erection tenting the front of his pants. That matches Chris.
“I hope you’ll forgive us,” Zach says, approaching Anton in that slinky-hipped way of his. “Chris was a bit… overeager and it seems we very nearly started without you.”
Anton finds himself speechless, staring straight up at the man with no notion of what to say.
“My god,” says Zach, “Chris was right – you are the most precious little thing. We’re going to have so much fun with you.”
Chris saves Anton from the embarrassment of trying to speak by swatting Zach hard on the arm. “I told you not to scare him. It’s his first time; he’s nervous enough already.”
“Not my first time ever!” Anton splutters indignantly.
Zach breaks into a grin. He says to Chris, “Then why don’t you take him back to the bedroom and relax him?” And then, to Anton: “Would it help if it was just the two of you to start?”
Anton nods gratefully and Zach’s smile softens. “Alright.” He leans over to place a quick kiss on Chris’ lips. “Make him scream so I know when you’re done.”
“S-scream?” Anton croaks out as Chris leads him by the arm.
“Scream, curse, invoke various deities – it’s all good,” says Chris with a grin. When they get to the bedroom, Chris mutters, “Dammit, thought I cleaned up.” Anton looks up to see Chris hastily shoving what appear to be a very large, very green dildo and a string of fat beads into a drawer. He grabs the doorframe for support.
Chris sees the startled look on his face. “Oh, hey, don’t worry about that. Not beginner stuff.” He walks over to take Anton’s hand, leading the younger man farther into the bedroom. “You still okay with this? You can back out any time, you know. But I really hope you won’t.”
Just knowing that Chris wants him to be here is enough to keep Anton on his feet. “No, I still want this,” he whispers, trying hard not to be embarrassed at the cracks in his voice.
“Good,” says Chris, wrapping one arm around Anton’s back and bringing the other up to cup his neck. He kisses the younger man with surprising gentleness, letting him get used to the sensation. And despite all the ways it’s different – the slight rasp of stubble against his chin, the hard pecs against his chest, tilting his head up instead of down – it’s still a kiss, and a damn good one, at that.
Anton lets his tongue slip out to slide against Chris’ lips, and Chris dutifully opens his mouth to let the younger man explore. Anton takes his time, and counts it as a small victory when Chris gets impatient enough to bring his tongue into the mix, and the kiss heats up quickly. Chris’ hips jerk forward a little of their own accord, and Anton feels the other man’s erection against his hip. It’s bizarre and empowering at the same time, and Anton pulls Chris even closer.
Just when he’s feeling overwhelmed, when it’s all getting to be a bit too much, Chris pulls back with a final peck on the lips and brings Anton over to sit on the bed.
“So, um,” Anton starts, still trying to find his breath. “What did Zach mean by ‘relax me’?”
“Whatever you want it to mean,” Chris says, and Anton can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant. “Could be a back rub, some soft music, aromatherapy candles.” He pauses. “Or I could blow you.”
“Erm, the last one?”
Chris’ grin is three parts eager to one part depraved. “That’s what I like to hear. Now lay down.”
Anton does, scooting up the bed to rest his head on the pillows. “Should I take my clothes off?”
“Hm… Not just yet. Might make you feel a little less vulnerable to begin with. Get the pants and underwear out of the way, though.”
Anton complies so fast that Chris chuckles. He eyes Anton appreciatively as the younger man’s cock springs free from his briefs. “Ever gotten a blow job before?”
“Yes,” retorts Anton indignantly.
“Not like this, you haven’t,” Chris says, and then. And then.
And then he’s swallowing Anton’s cock like it’s his job and Anton’s digging his short fingernails into his palms and thinking of baseball statistics, of the migratory habits of Canadian geese, of Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day, of anything that’ll keep him from humiliating himself and exploding in Chris’ mouth before he really has any time to enjoy it.
Chris seems to sense this and takes pity on him, easing up on the suction and letting his tongue caress the underside of Anton’s cock. The younger man closes his eyes and slowly unclenches his fists, trying to appreciate every nuance of Chris’ obvious skill. He swears off drunken blowjobs from groupies forever. Well, for a while, at least.
Despite Anton’s best intentions, once Chris starts bobbing his head, the younger man knows he hasn’t got long. He blurts out, “I’m gonna—“ then Chris’ hand is petting the skin behind his balls and he’s coming hard and helplessly into the wet heat of the other man’s mouth.
The next thing that Anton thinks – when he can think again – is that his throat feels raw. Why is his throat raw? And what’s Zach doing in here? Oh, right: the screaming.
Zach looks pleased. “Well done, Anton. I lasted about 30 seconds the first time he got his mouth on me.”
Chris bounds up off the bed. “Zach, don’t sell yourself short – it was at least 45.”
“Shut up and let me have a taste.” He grabs Chris by the front of his shirt and pulls him in for a long, deep kiss that feels almost too intimate for Anton to watch. But then he remembers the whole exhibitionism kink and oh, yeah, Zach’s tasting his cum in Chris mouth, and he becomes surprisingly okay with the whole thing.
Slowly, the kiss becomes gentle, teasing – like a seduction in reverse – and Zach smiles against Chris’ mouth. “What’s he like?”
“He’s an eager little thing, but he’s got some control, too.” Chris pauses to run the tip of his tongue over the shell of Zach’s ear. “He moans so sweet, Zach. And his mouth tastes like coffee and mint.”
“He can hear you,” says Anton from his spot on the bed, trying to remain indignant with his pants and briefs around his knees. The resentment is short-lived – when Chris and Zach simultaneously turn their lust-filled eyes to Anton, the younger man can feel his cock twitch at the attention.
Zach chuckles appreciatively. “Oh, to be 20 years old again.”
“Zach, at 20 years old, you were a man-slut and I was still jail-bait.”
“Always so literal, Christopher.”
Anton can’t miss the little shiver that goes down Chris’ spine at the use of his full name. He hasn’t thought of himself as innocent in a long time, but he worries that knowing what these two get up to when they’re alone might make his brain explode.
“Might as well lose the rest of the clothes,” says Chris, shucking his own shirt.
Anton tries his best to remove his pants in a dignified manner, but gives up on dignity and concentrates all of his energy on keeping his voice from squeaking. “So, do I, um… pitch? Or catch?”
Zach gives a patronizing little laugh as he begins unbuckling his belt. “Ah, the sports analogies of the ‘til-recently-straight. Why not both?”
“At the same time?”
“If you like.”
Anton’s eyes go wide, but he is definitely… intrigued. “How does that work?”
“You fuck Chris; I fuck you,” Zach says. Like he’s describing the weather forecast.
“I, uh… In that order?”
Chris is hopping up and down on one foot, trying to pull off his one remaining sock, and Zach puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him from tipping over. “It’s up to you, but I wouldn’t suggest letting Chris top you for your first time.”
“Wh-why not?” Anton squeaks.
“Seriously, have you seen him naked? You won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
Chris leans in to nip at Zach’s neck. “Hopeless size queen,” he sighs.
“Only for you,” murmurs Zach. A look passes between them and for a split second Anton’s worried they’ve forgotten about him altogether. But then Chris’ pants come off, and Anton is certain his eyes bug out of his head, Looney Tunes style.
“Holy fuck.”
Chris shakes his head sadly. “Such terrible language. Should we wash his mouth out with soap?”
“I can think of better things to put in his mouth.” Zach turns to look at Anton. “If he feels up to it.”
Anton remembers what Chris had said about pushing back. “I think I can handle you, Quinto.”
The gleam in Zach’s eyes is downright predatory. He strips off his pants and Anton nearly quails, but Chris grins and winks at him over Zach’s shoulder. Anton gets rid of his remaining clothes, then saunters up to Zach, keeping eye contact with him the whole way. The older man cocks an eyebrow but Anton merely sinks down to his knees.
“Wicked boy,” Zach murmurs, and Anton gets a quick glimpse of Chris taking both of Zach’s wrists and clasping them behind his back.
“Zach can get a little… enthusiastic,” Chris says by way of explanation.
Anton does not ask for further elaboration. He does, however, take the bigger man’s cock in his hand, stroking it twice before craning up to take it in his mouth. Zach lets out a pleased grunt as Anton surrounds the head with the wet heat of his mouth, swirling his tongue the way Chris had earlier. He tries to mimic things he remembers as feeling good, and Zach’s making all kinds of appreciative sounds above him.
“Use your hands, too,” he hears Chris say. “Play with his balls – it makes him crazy.”
Zach grunts something unintelligible and probably profane over his shoulder at Chris, but Anton does as he’s told and fondles Zach’s balls as he sucks him. Zach’s hips jerk and he swears. “Fuck, stop. Anton. Stop.”
As empowered as Anton’s feeling, that is a voice you obey, so he pulls off Zach and stands back up. Zach bends to claim his lips in a fervent kiss, throwing Anton so completely off balance that the older man’s arms are the only things holding him upright. It’s a hurricane of a kiss, all probing tongues and clashing teeth, and it leaves Anton feeling punch-drunk and breathless.
Zach cups a hand around Anton’s cheek. “You’re a fast learner. We may convert you yet.”
“I knew there was a Gay Agenda.”
This earns genuine laughs from both of the other men. Chris picks up a tube off the nightstand and tosses it to Anton as the older man climbs onto the bed and makes himself comfortable against the pillows. “This is lube – know it, use it, love it.”
“I know what lube is, you asswipe.” Without being asked, Anton knows to kneel between Chris’ spread legs.
“We don’t doubt that,” Zach says patiently, kissing Anton on the neck and sitting beside him. “You just need to be aware that lube plays a far more central role here.”
Anton rolls his eyes and squeezes some onto his fingers, reaching for Chris. “Yeah, got that.”
Zach grabs his wrist lightly. “Etiquette lesson number one: never approach a man’s – particularly Chris’ – ass with cold lube. Warm it in your hands first, or he will squeal like a little girl.”
“One time,” Chris mutters through gritted teeth, but he grabs a pillow from behind him and lifts up to stuff it under his hips.
Once Zach lets Anton’s hand free, he reaches for Chris again, only to stop short. “So, um, what exactly do I do?”
Zach wraps his hand around Anton’s and guides his index finger to Chris’ hole. “Start slow. This is a really sensitive area, lots of nerve endings, so rub gently at first.” He helps Anton make a circling motion and Chris sighs. “Now start to push your finger in, just past that first ring of muscle.”
With Zach’s help, Anton pushes his finger up to the first knuckle in Chris’ body. Chris asks for more, and Anton works the digit in all the way. “Now what?”
“Move your finger in and out, help loosen him up. Chris won’t need a lot of preparation, but it’s different with every guy. When he feels ready, add another finger.”
Anton tries not to think too critically about the fact that he’s got a finger up Captain Kirk’s ass, but the thought is unavoidable. Chris shifts his hips in silent demand, and Anton slips his middle finger in along with the first. It’s strangely intuitive, really.
“Scissor your fingers a little,” Zach says quietly, and Anton does. “Good. Now, I want you to crook your fingers as best you can on the next outstroke. You should feel a soft bump. You’ll know you’ve got it when—“
As if on cue, Chris’ hips jerk up off the bed and he lets out a strangled gasp. “Nice shootin’, Tex,” he says, and despite himself, Anton blushes a little.
“His prostate?” Anton asks.
“Bingo.” Zach pulls back from the bedside table with two condoms, tossing one to Anton. They suit up, then Anton glances around nervously.
“Now what?”
“Now,” Zach says, picking up the lube, “I do the same to you.”
Anton swallows anxiously. “O-okay.”
“Relax,” says Chris. “You’re in good hands. Really, really good hands. He’s made me come with nothing but his fingers in my ass.”
Anton nods, not quite trusting himself to speak. He feels Zach press warm lips to the back of his neck, slide a hand down his side to rest at his hip. He doesn’t quite jump when a slick finger presses between the cheeks of his ass, but he does tense up. Zach chuckles and Chris reaches up to grasp Anton’s chin.
“You’re doing great,” he says. “You really are gorgeous like this. We’re honored to be your first.”
Anton reminds himself to breath as Zach’s fingertip breaches his hole. “Relax,” Zach whispers against his skin, and he wills his muscles to unclench. When the older man’s finger pushes all the way in, Anton starts to feel lightheaded. It goes on for a few minutes or a few hours – he couldn’t say which – with Zach steadily working him open and Chris murmuring soft words of encouragement.
When Zach starts to add a third finger, Anton’s eyes clamp shut. “It’s okay,” says Zach. “Gotta make sure you’re ready.” The stretch burns a little, but Zach makes up for it by grazing Anton’s prostate on every stroke until he’s… well, “comfortable” isn’t quite the right word, but certainly better prepared.
Zach removes his fingers and urges Anton to scoot forward on his knees. “Get some more lube – make your cock nice and wet. Chris, you good?”
Chris is absentmindedly stroking himself, his eyes glued to Anton’s face. “You gotta ask?”
“Just because you’re a desperate little cockslut doesn’t mean everyone Anton fucks will be,” Zach says, and Anton perks up a bit at the thought of all his future conquests. It occurs to him that he could add a whole new gender to his To Do list. The possibilities are endless.
“Don’t keep Chris waiting,” Zach chuckles, so Anton lines himself up and slowly pushes the head of his cock into Chris’ body.
It’s so tight, so fucking superb that he sees little sparkles around the edge of his vision He nearly falls forward on to Chris’ body because his arms won’t support him. But Chris groans, “Don’t tease, dammit,” and Anton retains enough motor function to thrust all the way in before collapsing against Chris.
“Good,” murmurs Zach. “Stay just like that – don’t move.” Chris whines and wriggles a little under Anton, but Zach just slaps his thigh. “Not everything is about you, Christopher.” Either the slap or the name – possibly both – makes Chris’ hips buck, and Anton forgets to breathe again.
Until he feels something large and blunt pressing against his entrance – then he starts to hyperventilate. “Relax,” says Chris again, and Anton would feel like screaming What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do? if Chris weren’t rubbing soothing hands up and down his back. “Just breathe along with me.”
He does, but he still can’t help the whimper that escapes his lips when Zach starts to enter him. His brain is desperately trying to sort out the sweet, tight pressure of Chris around his cock with the unbearable fullness of Zach pushing in and in and in, but it’s like trying to feel hot and cold all at once and his whole body feels like one raw nerve ending.
Eventually, he realizes his body’s shaking and eyes are watering from the intensity, and he wants to make it absolutely clear to all parties involved that he is not crying, no way, he is far too manly for that, but then he sees Chris looking up at him in absolute awe and his mind goes blank.
“So beautiful,” Chris whispers, lightly kissing Anton’s lips. “Zach, you should see him. Like a debauched angel. So overwhelmed – he’s gonna need your help.”
Anton’s mouth drops open to ask what that means, but then Zach is grabbing him by the hips and dragging them both backward until Anton’s nearly out of Chris, then Zach pushes them both forward again and oh, Anton gets it now.
It takes a few moments to find a good rhythm, with Anton rocking back and forth between the delicious heat of Chris’ body and the hard length of Zach’s cock. It’s like the best sex he’s ever had squared, in stereo, with Chris’ moans in his ears and Zach’s deep growls against his back.
Anton loses track of time, space, gravity – the less fundamental things – but soon the sounds Chris is making become needier, more urgent. “He’s close,” Zach grunts in Anton’s ear, then shifts his hips to change the angle of their thrusts. “Fuck him harder.”
And damned if that’s not the hottest motherfucking thing Anton’s ever heard. The powerful snap of Zach’s hips combined with the chanted litany of yesyesyesyesyes spilling from Chris’ lips has Anton right on the edge, but it’s Zach’s teeth sinking into his shoulder and Chris’ orgasm clenching around his cock that catapult him into oblivion. He comes so hard that everything goes white.
Slowly Anton floats down from Gay Sex Heaven – or wherever it is he ended up – to the sound of Chris’ contented purrs as Zach continues to gently rock them together. Just when everything’s about to get oversensitive, Zach stills and slowly extricates himself from Anton’s body.
“Nrgl,” says Anton, his face planted solidly in Chris’ chest. The man beneath him chuckles and shakes him a little.
“C’mon, Anton. No falling asleep just yet.”
Already starting to ache, Anton sits up enough to pull out of Chris and dispose of the condom. He’s suddenly startled by the smears of cum on their chests. “Fuck, we made a mess.”
Zach laughs, coming back from the bathroom with washcloths in hand. “That’s how you know you did it right.” He tosses one cloth to Anton but cleans Chris himself. Chris leans up to cup his hand around Zach’s neck and press their foreheads together, as much a declaration of love as if they had said the words aloud.
Anton fidgets a little, ignorant of the protocols of all-male pillow talk. “Now what?”
“Now,” announces Chris, grabbing Anton by the wrist and yanking him back down to the bed, “begins the epic man-cuddling.” Zach makes a soft sound of assent and lies down behind Anton, molding his body to the younger man’s back.
Chris offers his chest as a pillow, carding his hands through the younger man’s hair, and soon even the formerly-daunting Zach is rubbing lazy circles into his hip. Anton feels more comfortable, more included than he could have imagined, and thinks he should maybe say something appreciative, though “thanks a bunch” seems a bit trite. Instead, he comes out with, “Wow, that was… fun.”
“Fun?” gasps Chris, sounding mortally offended.
“Er, super-duper fun?”
Zach chuckles in his ear, then nips the lobe. “Hush, Anton. No more sex until you work on your vocabulary.”
“Wait… there could be more sex?”
“Not now, you buffoon,” mutters Chris. “But since we’ve pretty much spoiled you for every man out there, you’ll only be satisfied with us.”
“Naw, you just want to keep the Glory That is Anton all to yourselv—“ Anton cuts himself off with a spectacular yawn. He feels Zach laugh and hears Chris mutter something indistinct, but before he can form a properly indignant response, he’s already sinking into deeply contented sleep.
Page 1 of 2