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05 December 2006 @ 03:48 am
fic: Bourbon Rose CxAxC (3some)  
Title: Bourbon Rose – Part of the Kritiker A/V club
Author: Seraphim Grace and Clueless_Psycho
Archive: www.geocities.com/taliasen1256, if you want it ask, I just like to know where they are. www.livejournal.com/users/seraphim_grace, www.mediaminer.org,
Feedback: Always appreciated and replied to.
Rating: 18
Pairings: AyaxChloexCrawford
Warnings: Smut, lemon, umm more lemon, lots and lots of lemon and some heckling.
Disclaimer: Not mine; just borrowing them for a piece of pwp smut, Bourbon Rose is a cocktail for those who aren’t connoisseurs. Also this is my first ever threesome.
For Andartha.

I couldn't finish this so clueless_psycho volunteered to finish it for me. So praise her.

The four Kritiker secretaries looked at the newcomer warily, “and why should we invite you to the A/V club?” They asked. The woman adjusted her glasses, her impossibly long legs stretched out in front of her ending in a pair of Manolo Blahniks, she wore a tight tailored suit and apart from her wire framed glasses she looked entirely the part. She reached into her designer purse and held aloft a minidisk, “because,” she said, “of this.”
“And what is on that disk that we should give you entry to our rather exclusive club.”
“Since Weiss disbanded,” Nana Mihorogi said calmly leaning back in her chair, “and Schwarz returned to Europe I understand the pickings have been slim.” Her tone was slightly mocking but she spoke Japanese without an accent. “In the house Krypton brand have supplied we have two members of Weiss,” she stopped, “and of course our own boys, Chloe,” Manx licked her lips almost involuntarily, “and Free.” She stopped, “and Aya and Chloe have become rather good friends.”
Birman was making grabbing motions with her hands.
“And of course, they have a new friend, and once Ken mentioned to me about your little club, I thought, well, perhaps it might be fun to join,” she went to put the disk back into her purse, “but if you don’t want me.”
“We never said that,” Queen stammered, “we just want to know what’s on the disk.”
“Side B has no quarrel with Schwarz, I hope you realise.” Mihorogi adjusted her glasses, “and well, it seems your Abyssinian and Oracle have become rather good,” she paused letting them wait, “friends, and well since they have so much in common with Chloe, it’s not uncommon to see the three of them together.”
It looked like Rex might faint. “The three of them?” She gasped.
Manx looked at the other Kritiker secretaries who were all nodding vociferously, “you’re in.”
Then they had a huddle, “but we have to get the equipment for you, we can’t play this.”
Mihorogi’s smile was delicate, “there is a complete set in my car, and Aya said that your technology was rather given to VHS. I also brought some wine and snacks from England.” The Kritiker secretaries looked slightly nauseous, “just sausage rolls and cheese and pineapple sticks. I honestly don’t know where England has this reputation for bad food.”
“Blood pudding.” Manx offered.
“Kidney pudding.” Birman interjected.
“Spotted dick pudding.” Rex suggested.
“Faggots,” Queen finished.
Mihorogi rolled her eyes again, “even I wouldn’t eat most of that, although spotted dick is a rather sweet dessert, you eat it with custard, it’s just sponge pudding with raisins.” They just looked at her.
“Shall we put the tape on?” Manx said finally.

The scene was a rather large and sparsely decorated room in a well appointed Georgian apartment, two men were sat on large wicker chairs, both immaculately turned out and with tailored legs crossed in identical positions turned towards a bed with a rich dark red fur comforter over the foot and a rich navy blue coverlet. On it asleep and curled into a loose foetal position is the third man, his hand beside his mouth as if he is used to sucking his thumb. His hair is a rich dark red, almost the same colour as the comforter and his skin was the pale cream of the coverlet’s piping.

“There is a god,” Manx said, “and he is good.”
“Oh believe me,” Mihorogi said with a smirk, “this is the least of his works.”
“He looks almost innocent when he’s sleeping.” Queen said tilting her head, “and so young, almost like he was Red Rook again.”
“Ah,” Birman said with a sigh, “red rook.”
“He was a pretty boy,” Rex said, “but he’s like a red wine, he gets finer as he gets older.”
Mihorogi almost did a spit take of the wine she had just taken a mouthful of.
“And the blonde, that’s Chloe?” Queen asked, Mihorogi nodded, “he has the same expression as Crawford, they look like a pair of raptors working out how best to capture their prey.”
Manx managed to recreate the same expression, “don’t they just.”

“He should be waking up,” Crawford said looking at his watch, “right about now.”
True to Crawford’s prediction, because he was remarkably accurate with them, Aya started to stir. First coiling in on himself and then stretching out so his back was a curving arch and his hands were over his head. A couple of vertebrae popped but it seemed that he preferred that because he was rolling his shoulders much happier afterwards. Then he noticed that there were two men staring at him. “What?” He asked looking very much like a rabbit in the headlights of a truck.
“Crawford and I were talking,” Chloe said leaning back to better appraise Aya where he was sprawled on the bed, “and we decided,”
“Yes?” Aya wasn’t one to be cowed for long, when given the option of flight or fight; he went in with all guns blazing.
“That neither of us have anything planned for the entire afternoon,” Crawford said, “so we came to the conclusion that we could amuse each other.”
Aya still looked doubtful but his hackles had lowered. “How?”
“Well,” Crawford said, “there’s lots of ways, I got that new CD you wanted.”
“I have a pack of cards.” Chloe said.

Manx grimaced, “they better not just sit there and play cards.”
Mihorogi spread her hands as if to say, of course not, and that they shouldn’t doubt her, that she knew what she was doing.

Aya sat in the centre of the bed with his legs out in front of him and his back bent. His expression was reminiscent of one of a caged animal but yet, at the same time, rather smug. It suited him rather well. Aya Fujimiya was a beautiful young man with shaggy scarlet hair and cream pale skin. He wore a shapeless blue hooded sweater emblazoned with the legend “Loughborough University” where he had had a mission, and a pair of black velvet trousers that had the advantage of being obviously more comfortable than they looked. He was also wearing a pair of black argyle socks.
In fact, sexily sleep mussed as he was, he looked good enough to eat.
“Have I overslept?” He asked, “What time is it?”
“Don’t worry,” Crawford was smirking, he looked like the cat who had got the canary, “we have all the time in the world.”

“How long is this disk?” Manx interrupted.
“Just under two hours.” Mihorogi told her.
Manx thanked every deity that she had ever heard of as Birman fanned herself.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Aya asked.
“You know we like to do that.” Chloe told him.
“You said you were going shopping.” Aya was obviously still sleepy and his voice was a little slurred and petulant.
“And so we did,” Crawford told him, “we got you some new clothes, and that book you wanted,” he paused, “and we called into Whittards of Chelsea.” Aya’s face brightened, “there’s enough types of tea in the kitchen that we could lay a doily on the coffee table and open our own tea room.” His eyes were sparkling with mischief, “and we popped into Thornton’s as well because we know how much you love their Viennese truffles.”
Aya’s expression shifted from beaming to suspicious, “and what do you expect in return for such largesse?”

“I can think of something,” Rex offered.
Mihorogi looked almost as smug as Crawford, “and so can they.”

“Perhaps you’d like to try on the new clothes.” Crawford suggested.
“A little personal fashion show,” Chloe agreed, “make our little jaunt in the London drizzle worthwhile.”

“Tell me they bought him speedos.” Queen said with her hands clasped as if praying.
“Watch and see,” Mihorogi said sipping her wine.

Aya climbed off the bed, tugging the hoodie up over his head, the blue tee he was wearing catching in the fabric and tugged free from his pants to reveal a Celtic briar rose tattoo that covered the length of his spine and up his neck to his hairline.

“That’s new,” Manx said appreciatively.
“He had it when he joined us.” Mihorogi told them, “We think he got it in New York.”
“It’s huge.” Birman added, “it must have hurt like a bitch.”
“I don’t care,” Rex breathed, “I’m just imagining him lying on the tattooist’s chair in really low hipsters with no shirt on.”
“Aren’t we all,” Queen agreed, “oh to have been a burly biker type tattooist on that day.”
“You know it took hours.” Manx said, “you just want to kiss it better.”
“Or lick it.” Queen said, “yes,” she agreed, “lick it.”
“Imagine,” Mihorogi said, “covering him in chocolate and slowly licking it away to reveal that skin and that ink.”
Birman went back to fanning herself as everyone else licked their lips and had a sudden craving for chocolate.

The tape suddenly skipped to Aya coming out of the bathroom wearing a pair of aubergine coloured crepe trousers that hung low on his hips and a black skinny fit tee with long dark red sleeves that he kept pulling down over his midriff as it wasn’t quite long enough. Instead of a belt he wore a long length of black ribbon tied at the left hip.

“Whichever of them bought him that outfit,” Manx said reverently, “I will happily bear his children.”
“Amen to that,” Birman said with a sigh.
“of course,” Rex said with a sly grin, “it could have been a combined venture.”
“Rex!” Queen said scandalised, “we only picture the boys with each other,” she said, “and I’m getting that threesome feeling.”
“I was kind of hoping for it myself,” Rex answered.

Aya’s second outfit was much less informal, it was a black silk button down shirt with a Nehru collar and a pair of black velvet pants with a crease. He looked very grown up and sophisticated, like a model at a party. Noticeably in that one, his feet were bare, as Crawford signalled with his hand that he turn around showing his rather fine ass off to advantage in the velvet.
The third was a white muslin shirt that hung to his knees and laced at the collar with a pair of dusky brown jeans that clung appetisingly to his thighs.
The fourth was a heavy woollen sweater that went rather nicely against the moleskin trousers.

“I’m in fashion heaven.” Manx said sweetly, “all we need now to complete the ensemble is something a little more goth.”

Aya’s last outfit had him raising an aubergine eyebrow. He wore a skintight black tee emblazoned with a white gothic cross that, like the first one, barely covered his midriff, and leather trousers with a double lace fly.
Crawford and Chloe looked between themselves and then whispered rather conspiratorially. “That tee.” Chloe said.
“But the first trousers.” Crawford told him, “and leave the socks off.”
“No slippers either.” Chloe finished.
Aya rolled his eyes with a deep sigh but turned to change revealing a pair of white wings on his shoulders.

When he came back in it was with a scowl. He had hooked his thumbs into the almost non-existent pockets of his trousers, which caused them to show the line of his hip bones to even better effect.

“Uh oh,” Rex said, “Raptor alert.”
“Now there’s a pair of predators,” Birman agreed, “you can almost see them visualising exactly how he’s going to taste.”
“Like we’re not.” Manx added.
“Oh, no,” Queen said calmly as Mihorogi smirked into her wine, “we just want to watch him get eaten.”

On the screen Chloe and Crawford exchanged a look and started to circle, both of them had an expression that suggested that they were just going to rearrange his clothes, but it was totally apparent that that was not their intention at all. Chloe had his hands around Aya’s collar even as Crawford managed to slip one hand into the back of his trousers to rearrange them, obviously.
“You smell,” Aya said leaning into Crawford’s neck, “different, like,” he took a deep breath, “bourbon, and,” he stopped then smiled, “roses, like Chloe.”
“That’s because we’ve been together all day,” Crawford said, “and we did stop off for a drink before coming home.”
“It was hellish out there, Aya,” Chloe said, “You would have wanted a bourbon too.”
“I’m not holding it against you.” Aya said, “I think shopping was designed to drive you to drink.” His tone was faintly mocking, “I’m just a little annoyed you didn’t wait till I came with you.”
“Here,” Crawford said reaching around and kissing Aya on the mouth, “it’s as if you had some too now,” he said.
Aya pulled back and licked his lips, “and did you have a bourbon too?” He asked Chloe.
Chloe leaned forward to be kissed as he slipped one hand up into Aya’s tee. Even as he did so Crawford slipped his hand further into the waistband of Aya’s trousers.

“Ladies we have takeoff.” Manx said.

Crawford picked Aya up even as Chloe pulled his tee off over his head and in a manoeuvre that had to be practised the tee was flung across the room as Aya was thrown unto the bed.

“There is something about bringing out the cavemen in some men.” Birman said wistfully, “sometimes you just want them to pick you up and throw you over their shoulders to have their wicked way with you.”

Aya landed on the bed taking Chloe down with him as Crawford took a step back. Chloe turned his head over his shoulder to look. Crawford just smiled, “you know I like to watch.” He said.
“Control freak,” Chloe answered with a laugh before turning his attention to the white flesh on display.

“For which,” Manx said, “we are eternally grateful, where would we be if Crawford didn’t like to control things?”
“Bored.” Queen said, “Because even if he is a little scary you have to admit he has the best ass.”
“It’s his chest,” Mihorogi said, “it’s enough to convert you to evil.”
“Evil groupiedom,” Birman said with a laugh, “I suppose it makes a change from following around rock bands.”
“But where else would we get our hairspray free?” Manx said with an innocent expression.

Chloe pulled his cashmere sweater over his head revealing a perfectly creased designer shirt.

“Ah,” queen said, “got to love a man that can iron.” The rest of them looked at her askance, “what?” She said, “I hate ironing.”

“Chloe,” Crawford said on the screen, “kiss him for me.” With a rather wolfish smile Chloe obliged. He arranged himself on the mattress in such a way that Crawford could see everything both in front of him and reflected in the mirror on Aya’s dressing table. “Aya,” he said, his voice crisp and not in any way agitated, “remove Chloe’s shirt.” And Aya’s quick slim fingers made short work of it.

“Dear sweet Buddha.” Birman nodded, “it’s the motherlode.”
“A porn film featuring those two,” Queen continued.
“And directed by Crawford.” The rest said in unison.

Chloe’s chest was smooth and broad. It was nicely well muscled and Aya waited to put his hands upon it until Crawford told him to, and the five ladies in Tokyo groaned when he did. Chloe kept looking over his shoulder to make sure that the audience that the knew about was intently watching. He did not disappoint.
“Aya,” he said quietly, without even a hint of arousal in his voice, “turn over so Chloe is on the bottom and spread your thighs over his hips then kiss him.”
Aya smiled, but did exactly as he was told, then wiggled his butt . The aubergine trousers were almost the same colour as his hair and highlighted the detailed tattoo work on his back. Chloe’s hands were on his waist.
“Crawford,” Aya said turning back, “don’t you want to come play too?” He sounded almost pouting.
“Not,” Crawford paused between words, “quite” he stopped and licked his lips, “yet.”

Of the ladies in Tokyo no one admitted the groan.

“In the cupboard beside the bed,” Crawford said, now palming himself through his trousers, “there is a box, take it out.”
Aya fumbled around with the cupboard and then laid the box, which was heavily inlaid woodwork, on Chloe’s chest and opened it somewhat reverently. “Crawford,” he pouted, “you’ve been holding out on us.”

He slowly pulled out a pair of handcuffs, padded with black leather, tilting his head to the right, as if he was pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Chloe snorted in amusement.
“When I was young, I wanted to be a cop,” said Crawford in flat tone.

“I can imagine,” murmured Rex.
“Thanks kami-sama, he always remembers,” said Queen in one rushed breath.

The next item Aya pulled out from the box was a blindfold, and Chloe snickered. “Do we get to choose who’s wearing what or you choose?” asked Aya.
“You get the blindfold, Chloe gets the cuffs,” answered Crawford, his breath was clearly caught on his throat.
Aya leered at Chloe, who gave him a teasing scowl. Aya moved the box from Chloe’s chest, set it next to Chloe’s body, then slid up slowly, rubbing across the quivering tummy, until he could reached his arms out to the headboard. He looked down at Chloe, smiling, and Chloe smiled too, and Aya just had to bend down and plastered his lips on Chloe’s, indulging in the taste of bourbon and soft flesh, as his hands fumbled with the handcuffs and Chloe’s wrists and the headboard railing.

Apparently, he kissed Chloe a little too long, because suddenly, his head was jerked backwards by the hair.

“oh gods, I love it when he’s rough!” exclaimed Birman. She shifted in her chair, straightening her skirt.

“Don’t do whatever I don’t tell you to do,” Crawford’s voice was cold and sharp, “or you’ll both get spanked.”
“yes,” Aya breathed, and moved backward a little, “yes.”
“Now put the blindfold on,” ordered Crawford, which Aya obeyed without any question.

“lovely,” Queen sighed.

Chloe shot Crawford a mocking glare, and Crawford returned it in tenfolds. Crawford then slipped his fingers into Aya’s hair again, and tugged him up, and kissed a flustered looking Aya. Aya writhed into his mouth, and Crawford toyed with his tongue for a while. He heard a protesting growl from the bed, but he ignored it. He put his palm on the front part of Aya’s trousers. Aya jerked a bit, almost biting Crawford’s tongue.
“I thought you wanted to play director,” hissed Chloe through gritted teeth.
Crawford released Aya. “Sometimes, director needs to show the actors how to do it right,” he answered calmly, although lips still swollen from the kiss. He pushed Aya’s head down. “Suck his nipples.”

Chloe practically held his breath as Aya traced his skin with fingertips, in search for his nipples. Whether Aya did it in purpose, or it was indeed difficult to find something with your eyes covered, Chloe thought that it took Aya too damn long time to find what he was looking for. When Aya did, Chloe let out a deep sigh of relief, Aya’s fingertips brushing the pink nub of his left nipple caused his desire to flare up to the maximum level. As if he was not already desperately horny.

To Nana’s expectation, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing.

Aya dived down, taking Chloe’s left nipple between his lips, biting hard that Chloe had to groan aloud. He pinched the right one, putting the same pressure his lips were treating the left nipple. Chloe was not certain that whether it was the handcuffs, or his sheer will, or embarrassment that stopped him from bucking into the painful deliciousness.

“Good boy,” Crawford approved.

Chloe was beyond saying anything coherent, and Aya beyond holding himself back. He rubbed his groin against Chloe’s. Crawfrod caught his hips. “Don’t do anything you are not told to do,” he reprimanded.
Chloe was only grateful that Aya did not bother to answer. It was rhetorical anyway.

Not shifting his eyes from his two lovers, Crawford began undoing his shirt’s buttons and the ladies let out a sigh of relief. Keeping the shirt on, Crawford climbed onto the bed, setting to kneel behind Aya, trapping Chloe’s legs between his knees. He leaned forward, pressing his face on top of Aya’s spine, slipping his hand between the two men’s crotches. Chloe arched a little at the feel of Crawford’s hand through the fabric of his pants, and moaned when Crawford unzipped his fly and freed his erection. He was so thick and heavy, he knew that if he threw himself to the sea, he’d drown in no time.

Chloe growled in frustration when Aya’s lips left his nipples because the redhead needed to scream as Crawford stroked him hard through his trousers. Crawford hn-ed.

“Fuck you, Crawford!” Chloe cursed, he paused to breathe,”bastard!”

“I thought you said I was a god,” Crawford pulled Aya’s zipper down, then, with one arm around Aya’s waist, he pulled Aya up. “How do you like it so far, hm, Aya?” he whispered huskily into Aya’s ear, his hand fondling Aya’s cock affectionately. Aya whimpered.

Chloe did not know which one was worse, Crawford grinding his hips against his groin, the soft wool of his pants rubbing roughly against sensitive skin, the sweet friction triggering his senses to open up, or watching Crawford massaging Aya’s erection, with Aya leaning limply on Crawford’s chest. He did not know either how Crawford could control his desire, already Chloe wanted to come, hard, now, inside Aya, either mouth, but ass would be much the better.

Crawford gave Chloe a smug grin, then he tugged on Aya’s hair, turning his head to the side, and kissed him hard. Chloe moaned.

After what felt like forever watching porn that was Crawford handling and kissing Aya as well as getting aroused violently, Chloe could only wail when Crawford stopped. Aya was panting madly. Crawford gently pushed him forward to land on Chloe’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s only going better and better,” he promised. “Aya, lick him.”

“Ah. Thank you,” Chloe snapped sarcastically. But he was indeed grateful, and more than welcomed Aya’s lips on his ear.

Crawford climbed out of Chloe’s body and reached for the box. He fumbled briefly and when he took out a rather big tube of lube, four of five ladies in Tokyo gasped quietly.

Crawford took his dear sweet time greasing his fingers, watching Aya give Chloe a full body tongue bath. It amused him that Chloe was fighting with his own self-control, which should be a top notch one, but right now was nearing shattered. Meanwhile, Aya was enjoying himself, moving like a cat, smooth and languorous, running his tongue up and down the pale skin, nibbling on the most erogenous parts, rubbing their erections together.

Chloe let out a loud, shameless groan when Crawford pulled his pants off. He practically purred when Aya lost his pants too afterwards.

“And that’s our brave Chloe,” mocked Crawford, his fingertips sliding ever so lightly on Chloe’s leg. Crawford’s two fingers ended on the cleft of Aya’s legs, and before the redhead got to gasp at the surprising touch, Crawford pushed them inside, placing one palm on Aya’s back to keep him still.

Leaning over Aya, Crawford said, eyes on Chloe’s, fingers sliding in and out Aya’s passage, “I want to keep this longer, but you two are sissies, and sissies need to be shown how to act like a real man.” He leaned lowers to whisper into Aya’s ears, enjoying how Aya trembled between Chloe’s and his bodies, ”I’ll fuck you,” he crooked one finger inside Aya to rub across his sweet spot, biting Aya’s earlobe gently, ”nice and slow… and hard….” A pause, a heartbeat, a pull of breath. “you’ll take Chloe in your mouth, show him how I like it done on me.”

“yes… ah…” Aya arched to another rub across his sweetspot.

“No more talking!” Chloe blurted, “gods, no more teasing, Crawford, or I’ll kill you after this.”

Crawford smiled. “Don’t you love him when he’s rude, A~ya?” he bit Aya’s neck, the he began tracing the pattern of Aya’s tattoo with tongue.

Chloe thought that he would explode before Crawford even reached the stem of the ink rose, but he successfully held back, hanging on to the remains of his self control. As Crawford rimmed lower, he took Aya’s hips and pulled him backwards with him, until Aya’s mouth touched Chloe’s erection. Crawford took Chloe’s hard on, and offered it into Aya’s mouth, and the redhead gladly swallowed it whole, and he did not stop until his lips touched the base of Chloe’s cock.

If there was another heaven, Chloe did not want to go there. He was perfectly happy where he was.

“Lift your knees, Chloe, Aya, help him spread his legs wider,” said Crawford as he positioned himself behind Aya, on his knees, one hand firmly on Aya’s hips, another on the zipper of his pants.

For Chloe, the word “ecstasy” was an understatement.

Now that he was certain that his two lovers were comfortable with their positions, Crawford pulled the zipper down. Next, he pushed forward and buried himself completely in Aya’s body, so sudden, that Aya almost bit Chloe’s cock. Crawford paused to let Aya adjust for being fucked top and bottom, then he slid his hand to Aya’s groin, taking a throbbing erection yearning for physical contact in his fingers.

Crawford started slowly, moving carefully until Aya managed to align his body to be in sync with Crawford’s. Then Crawford picked up the pace, and Chloe forgot everything. He twisted and bucked, arching his back, screaming and groaning, his sweat dampened hair stuck into his skull. Crawford still breathed evenly, focusing on the incredible heat and tightness surrounding him, and Aya was torn between staying in place for Chloe, or pushing backwards to get more of Crawford.

“I’m proud of you, Chloe,” Crawford murmured, praising Chloe’s sheer will.

“I’ll get you for this!” Chloe hissed, then aaarrrghh-ed like his breath was snatched from his throat.

“Hang on for… a… while, you…’ll thank… me forever… for… this...”

“Speak one more time… I… ah! Aya! Watch where your tongue is going!”

Knowing that Chloe would not last longer, Crawford ran his thumb across the slit of Aya’s cock. Aya jerked backwards, and came violently into Crawford’s hand, his lips squeezing Chloe’s cock tightly, and Chloe exploded inside his mouth. Another thrust, and Crawford flexed his cock, and he orgasmed with a satisfied grunt.

It took several minutes for the Kritiker secretaries to realize that the disc stopped there, and when they did, Manx said, “I don’t seem to have seen Crawford’s… hard-on.”

A shuffle of skirts and blouses and Mihorogi said, “Shall we replay?”

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