30 smutfics

005. The Harem, or, "When in Rome..."

A/N: Because I'm ADD, I'll be... Not doing these challenges in order. Fuck yeah.

Emil is sitting between his legs, smiling up at him with all the hero-worship in the world wrapped up in his green eyes. He wears his scarf and pants, and nothing else. Aster is at his side, brown eyes wide, smiling like the old friend he hasn’t seen in years, and wearing only his shorts. Richter feels the weight of another, leaning against his back, and cranes his neck to look.

“Don’t move, I’m comfortable,” the person leaning against him says. It’s unmistakably Ratatosk.

“Oh, he’s going to have to move, eventually,” Aster says, sounding patient. Ratatosk huffs irritably at this, and Emil laughs.

“But not for a while,” the one with green eyes says.

Richter wonders what the hell they’re all talking about. Wonders how Ratatosk and Emil separated, and most importantly wonders how Aster can be here. Also why they’re in various states of undress. His body is jumping to conclusions, and his mind is racing to figure it all out. When he opens his mouth to ask exactly what in the world is going on, he finds his plans to speak dissolving away.

Emil is somehow adorable, sitting on his knees, hands over his lap. He looks determined, and says, “Okay, here I go.” Richter feels Ratatosk move against his back, turning his head to look, and when he glances to Aster the blond is looking supportive and cheerful, eyes on the boy. Richter looks back to Emil, curious, but only in time to be kissed on the lips awkwardly.

The boy’s lack of experience is obvious, but at the very least, his lips are soft. Richter almost thinks he feels tongue running over his bottom lip for a moment, but Emil pulls away with a red face before he can think about it. Or pull away first. The boy fumbles and toys with his hands nervously, looking down and not meeting Richter’s eyes.

“Em--?” Richter attempts to question the boy, but then Aster is leaning over his lap, hand on his cheek, turning his face to kiss him as well. This is familiar, nostalgic. This is nice. And when Aster pulls away, something about the almost jealous look Emil gives the other blond is kind of nice too. Ratatosk shifts again against his back, crossing his arms. That’s not as nice.

He eventually lets out a “tch,” and turns around to drape his arms over Richter’s shoulders.

“D-do you want to, too?” Emil asks the red-eyed one, and looks a little reprehensive at the idea.

“Like hell,” Ratatosk says, snorting, and Richter realizes how close the summon spirit is to his ear. His breath is warm against it, and to complete the trio of incomprehensible touching, Ratatosk bites his earlobe.

Richter shifts uncomfortably, turning his head away. He opens his mouth to protest, or ask questions, still unsure which ones, but it gets cut off once more. Emil is kissing him, leaning forward and kissing him harder than before, pressing up against him and nearly climbing into his lap. Ratatosk is sucking and biting his neck now, and he feels Aster brushing his hair away from the other side, beginning to kiss the opposite side. Aster’s kisses work their way to his jaw, while Ratatosk’s remain in the same area.

It’s overwhelming, to say at the least, and he feels himself growing hard, pulsing in his pants from just this, just them, and the way Emil is on him, grinding his hips down lightly through their pants. He hears his own breath growing labored - becomes acutely aware of the saliva on Emil’s lips in the brief spaces between kisses. Ratatosk and Aster laugh, though the latter much friendlier in tone. Emil makes an annoyed noise as he kisses the red-haired man, offended on Richter’s behalf. As though he is trying to make up for it, Emil’s hands slide down his chest, slowly and awkwardly unbuttoning his shirt. Aster and Ratatosk help slide it off his shoulders, and all Richter can think, after all this time of silently taking everything in and trying to comprehend it is fuck it, before he begins kissing Emil back, and stops trying to lean away from all of the mouths.

The blond moans lightly into his mouth, startled. His hand runs up and down the expanse of tan skin. Up and down and up and out and down and down and then his hands are on Richter’s hips, rubbing gently. Then trailing lower still, to his thighs, then his inner thighs, then rubbing his erection through his pants. His hand is rubbing his own bulge as it loosely grips Richter’s, and he lets out a heavy breath against the man’s mouth.

Richter makes a quiet noise somewhere in the back of his throat, and feels Emil’s lips curling up into a smile against his own. Ratatosk’s breath is hot in his ear, Aster’s hands are rubbing his back, and the former taunts him, “Feel good?” as Emil begins to stroke his length through the fabric. It’s like extra friction, but not enough, and Richter can almost answer in coherent thought until Ratatosk bites down on his neck, hard.

So hard. Emil pulls away from his lips, and kisses his way down Richter’s chest. The boy is red-faced and wide-eyed as he unbuttons and tugs down the red-head’s pants, but determined. Richter tries to tell him wait, but now Ratatosk is turning his head, kissing him violently, pressing against him so hard that he has to kiss back just so he doesn’t fall over backwards.

Aster is running fingers through his hair, then hands up and down his sides, then rubbing his back, and Emil is stroking him, now hand-on-skin and it’s hot and hard, but so, so, slow.

“Hm, a little harder, Emil,” Aster tells the boy, sounding like an ordinary teacher. The boy nods, and begins pumping faster, squeezing tighter hesitantly. And God, it feels good. Eventually his hand slides down to the base, resting there. After another moment’s pause, he leans down and takes Richter’s cock into his mouth.

Richter has to turn away from Ratatosk’s hard kisses to bite his lip, and it takes effort not to throw his head back.

“Fuck,” he hears Ratatosk say with a shaky voice. The boy is watching Emil’s actions with narrowed red eyes. His breathing becomes louder as he becomes obviously more and more aroused just watching. Emil’s sucking is light at first, then harder, then light once more with no discernable rhythm. His head bobs up and down slowly.

“Use your tongue,” Aster says helpfully, and gives Richter’s ear a little nip. Emil moves up and down, slowly, beginning to alternate between running his tongue over the head inside his mouth and sucking. After a few moments, Emil pulls back, now licking the shaft from the head down to the base. Aster, on hands and knees, leans over Richter’s leg to help. The two of them lick and suck at his cock together, hands running down his thighs, running up his chest, and all the while Ratatosk is still biting his neck lightly.

“You like that?” Ratatosk asks, his voice rough and amused, deep with his own lust. Richter moans for the first time, and Ratatosk almost shudders. Emil and Aster seem to come to an understanding, as Aster begins to suck on Richter’s dick, taking the head into his mouth and working his way down. Emil kisses the man’s hips, kisses his chest, and finally presses lips against lips.

And then Ratatosk pulls away from Richter, pushing past him and then shoving a very confused Emil away from Richter by the mouth. Richter’s eyes can’t focus on only one thing. Aster is at his cock, sucking hard and moving up and down, hands roaming. But Ratatosk is kissing wide-eyed Emil, pushing him down to the floor now, and tugging down the boy’s pants. He’s jerking him off roughly - Emil moans helplessly, clenching his eyes shut with his face bright red. But his hand wanders down Ratatosk’s body to return the favor, and they stay pressed together, pumping each other and both breathing heavily, gasping, grunting.

Aster hums around his cock as if jealous, and Richter shudders. He returns his attention to this blond, with his hot wet mouth around him, soft and sucking, licking inside, and fuck it’s hard not to come. Aster hums again, and Richter hears himself moan quietly. He runs his hands through the blond hair in his lap, and can’t think straight. Fuck, fuck, all of this is hot.

When he finally looks back up, Emil is on his knees, bending over. Ratatosk is behind him, pushing inside. Emil moans a half-hearted “Nn, n-no--” but Ratatosk just grunts into Emil’s ear as the green-eyed boy presses back against him. Ratatosk reaches around, hand jerking off Emil as he fucks him, pushing him down into the ground, harder and harder, and Emil’s ‘no’ doesn’t hold out much longer.

Emil moans loudly, begs, “P-please,” and Ratatosk groans at the sound of his voice. It’s slow sweet torture, and Richter wonders how messed up he is that all he can think, hearing and watching this is that he wanted to that, that he wants to be the one fucking Emil. Aster hums through his sucking, tongue rolling over the tip of his cock and Richter imagines Emil pushed into the ground moaning his name, imagines biting the boy’s shoulder and hearing him cry out.

It’s too much, and Richter’s grip tightens in Aster’s hair. He bites his lip, and his eyes clench shut as he

wakes up. To sticky sheets and sweaty clothes, and the most painful and miserable hard-on he has ever had.