Bohemian Rhapsody circa 1403 - KCD psls/overflow

[smartass_captain]

Hans Capon and Jim Kirk are cut from the same cloth.

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[capon]

It is tempting to let them keep going and going all night if allowed, but Hans knows his own patience will wear thin soon enough, and there is only so much their bodies can endure before they're exhausted. Besides, it's too hot to suffer the stifling room with endless activity, and he does enjoy watching both men get off. Oh, what a dilemma to have — one of his own making.

The pair of them look so eager and pent up already and when they set their attention on him, Hans feels the hairs on his arms rise. He's still far too dressed by comparison, the arousal trapped beneath hose aching for touch he denies it.

"He does get ridiculously loud. One of us will have to stuff his mouth shut," he claims with an air of indifference, but the grin on his face says otherwise.

Hans sits up more fully against his pillows, slouched as he'd been watching the two of them put on a show for him, and he pats the empty side of the bed as if to beckon them over.

"Here." To both of them, but then: "Come lie down, Kubík. Henry will take care of you, won't you, Hal?"

As exciting as it would be to watch Henry bend James over the table and fuck him there on the spot, Hans is more than well-acquainted with how impossible that is between men like them.

[smartass_captain]

For a moment the only sound in the bedroom is the flickering of the lamplight and the floorboards creaking under James' weight as he shifts on his knees once more. Contemplating what these two have in store for him. How beautiful yet untouchable Hans appears lounged out on the bed as he is clad still in what of his fine clothes he still wears.

"I...I try to be quiet--" Jim retorts but there's a bit of a guilty flush to his cheeks when he says so. He's not terribly Good at being quiet in bed. Especially not when he's taking Henry for God's sake. But the thrill of being made to be quiet has him squirming eagerly, watching Hans' grin with hungry eyes.

"We won't let you get to loud." Henry promises. He holds out a rough hand for James to take to help the other back up onto undsteady feet. Difficult to miss how unashamedly erect Jim is for their games thusfar and Henry swallows roughly in turn. At Hans' beckon Henry turns at the waist to guide James over toward the bed. He doesn't move from his spot until he has to lest Jim let go of his hand. Only at the last does he fully turn round and make the slow steps over to the side of it. "Aye. Who's got the oil in their pack?"

Jim plants a knee on the side of the bed next to Hans and can't help the way he leans over to offer a soft kiss either to Hans' lips if the other will meet him, or against the blonde's hair if he decides not to.

"On my back or my hands and knees...?" Jim asks, his gaze flicking between the two men.

[capon]

As the other two move, Hans takes in the sight of them together and separately with a greed he doesn't bother hiding, eager with them naked and in full view. His eyes flicker to Henry when he goes to find said oil — I have an extra phial in my things — but then Jim is right beside him and Hans meets his kiss with a smile, welcoming it. Hands ghost along his sides to urge him closer.

"Hands and knees. Here, between mine," he insists, before spreading long legs apart so he'll have room between them. "Though I'm starting to feel like a stuffed chicken in these clothes. God above—"

That's Hans' queue to peel his shirt from his torso at last, tossing the thing carelessly aside and leaning back against the pillows once more with a satisfied smile. There, that's much better. Never mind his hose, he can live with those on a while longer.

Henry gets what he's looking for before approaching the bed, blue eyes scanning them both swiftly. Christ, how has he gotten himself into this situation? He often asks himself this same thing when traveling with this particular pair, though he has no regrets for how things have turned out.

He waits until James has moved about as told and then kneels on the bed behind him. Rough hands find the curve of hips and rub there idly, just for the pleasure of touch. 'Get comfortable, alright?'