Archive of Our Own ^beta

Holt hadn't held back since discovering more about Gardner. And neither had Guy since discovering more about Michael. But that second real time between them, after Gardner walking out of the T-Craft with knees of jello, Michael noticed Gardner was a bit more careful with how he approached him. Almost like he didn't realize that just because Michael hadn't had sex before, didn't mean he hadn't taken the time to study the basics.

But Gardner should have known that he wasn't the type of person to like being put in a situation where he didn't know what to do. So he studied everything. He thought Guy had appreciated that, because again, he had left with legs quivering and his hair slicked back with sweat. And he had always commended him for it in battle, in his strange backhanded way. But maybe taking it so analytically, so precisely, was making Gardner notice that even Michael was capable of perversion. And Gardner knew how to make him capable of perversion.

If Mr. Terrific was too stressed out and needed to somehow get his mind off everything it usually thought of, it went to Guy. The Green Lantern had a way of lightening every mood with a horrible joke or a stinging slap to his ass, and it did balance out his spirals of deep thought when they went too far. But he thought long and hard about what he'd want from Guy next time they were together.

And it usually ended with just wanting him. The issue the first time was… Michael. Though Guy had insisted that he had wanted it to be one-sided, and that he thought it was incredibly hot how quick Michael was to come, Holt still held a slight of humiliation. He had gotten back at him a little bit, even now tasting him in his mind like a ghost on his tongue, but it wasn't the full experience. He hadn't thought about prepping… admittedly he hadn't thought about bottoming before the ginger, face still red and legs still shaking, had asked him if he was ready for more. He didn't think he was ready for more in that moment, but it still felt extremely out of character of him not to have considered that

Though… being caught having prepped before a League Meeting, with the alleged Justice Gang still in the building when Guy approached him after… yes, it was good he hadn't been. That asshole always got too excited too quickly, and paired with his ring he hated to hesitate on enacting his plans.

So today was the day, though admittedly felt a bit strange to have pre planned it all. Mr. Terrific hadn't read about scheduling sex with someone you're hardly entwined with. That didn't mean he wasn't excited, of course, in his own way. He was going to get this big insurmountable label removed from him entirely - this was no big deal to anyone, and technically completely arbitrary in the real world. But it felt like those date conversations, as rare as they were, stilted to an awkward pause when you admitted you hadn't gotten around to sex. The questions of why, the assumptions of not wanting it, it was all too much to deal with. And yet, Gardner asked those questions, he had answered them, and here he was at his doorstep. Mr. Terrific admires the large stack of brick brownstones, lined neatly on either side of the one he was standing at currently.

It's hot, but he's covered and sweating. Michael wants to go inside. He knocks, feeling stupid for having to wear a disguise. Wearing a disguise wasn't actually the issue… the issue was wearing one that looked like something Mr. Terrific wouldn't wear. Which was basically anything uncool.

When there's no answer, he knocks again, Clark's impossibly wide sleeve drooping just a bit as he did so. A Clark Kent sweatshirt (he refused the handknit sweaters), a Kendra Saunders hat, and worst of all,

“You're wearing my sweatpants.” The ginger swings open the door with a crooked smile, reaching up to a hooked nose that bends with it. It was a little quirk of his that Holt couldn't help but pick up on. His eyes flicker up and up, doing their usual checking out of him. Michael shoves the gift he was holding into the other man's arms, pushing past him to go inside.

“I didn't expect you to live somewhere like this.” Michael offers bluntly, taking his shoes off at the doorstep - though he sees a few pairs strewn about through the doorway and frowns a little. He wants to bring this up when two cold, green glowing hands start to slide up the sweater and around his waist. He tries to turn to face Gardner but there's no budging.

“Who's sweatshirt is it?” He asks gently, his real hand brushing against the back of Holt's neck with such an intense heat compared to his rings hands, it makes him gasp a little.

“Clark's.” He doesn't understand the big deal. But it's not like he can explain himself properly when the Lantern bearer is rubbing his back, his neck, all while Green hands keep him exactly in place.

“Oh. Mm. Yeah?” He almost sounds like he doesn’t care. The warm hand rubs the back of his neck in such a way that the thumb keeps rubbing against the side of his throat, adam's apple bobbing as a taunt to be lightly squeezed. It's rougher than usual, but not terribly. Gardner had been touches of mean before. Michael had encouraged it. “Does he want it back?”

Michael's eyebrows knit. What did that have to do with anything? Could he… continue? Without the talking? “Maybe? I didn't ask-” He nearly stumbles from how quickly it's torn in half, tattered to the floor in a mess of cotton. Left in his undershirt, he's even more confused. “Guy, I'm pretty sure he did want that back.”

The other man has become an unresponsive mess of hands and lips, taking advantage of all the newly revealed skin between his shoulder blades. He was acting depraved, Holt could feel the dozens of hickies being left behind with each disgusting sucking sound. He could tell him to stop, sure, but Michael was so far past that. He didn't want to pretend like this weird freak didn't turn him on - he could admit that to the both of them and no one else. The sweatpants, unlike the daily planet sweatshirt that looked decently well taken care of, were very gently slipped off of him. His elbows prop himself against the wall as Gardner uses his tongue for something useful for once.

Four hands held him in place, two green gently cradling at his waist, two warm cupping his thighs as Gardner sat on his knees. If using his tongue for shit talking was practice for this, Mr. Terrific admittedly could let some of it pass. The sounds are horrible, and Guy always makes a point to sound like he's enjoying whatever one-sided act he's doing, small hums and grunts of approval as he digs into the other with a deft tongue. Michael was glad his face was turned away, thinking that having to show him what expressions he thought he was currently making would be the end of him. Instead he bites his tongue, forehead pressing up into the drywall for some sort of cooling. He was going to hold on this time. The sound of a zipper promises skin to skin contact, which Gardner soon delivers on. Michael tries to glance around to catch a look at him - his body was such a turn on for him. Pale red hair that was probably trimmed every two months, if that, starting like a patch of grass on his upsettingly well sculpted chest, and starting down, down, down, to a crop that covered two lips that tasted like sweat and salt and musk.

Gardner stands up, leaning forward, one hand slithering to wrap around his nerve blessed skin. Holt panics, quickly taking his own hand and intertwining their fingers, locking his still. He was trying to hold on a little longer, and felt it was so unfair Gardner was testing that. His hold on the other man's hand was tight, fingers squeezing together to keep him in place. There's a bit of silence from behind Michael that confuses him. He starts to explain, “Last time you pushed me too quickly. I want to… I'm trying to hold on so it feels a little equal.” He clears his throat.

A hot wet tongue licks across the back of his neck, eliciting a shiver. When Michael loosens his hand out of surprise, Gardner only clenches down and keeps their palms locked together.

“Don't let go.” He warns, his other hand snaking forward to grab and hold Mr. Terrific's second hand. With both arms behind him, the hero finds himself supported only by his forehead resting on the wall, and Gardner's own will. He squeezes his eyes shut as a shudder rolls down his spine. “You don't know… how erotic you sound… with your fucking nerd speak…” A third, green glowing object, had found itself rubbing gently between Michael's soft but muscled thighs. He tries to turn around to get a better look, only for the Lantern bearer to let out a loud laugh. He pulls him back from the wall, showing him what he was itching to see. Green, pulsing, and two-sided. His eyes close as he pictures Gardner behind him, hiding the expressions he makes while he fucks both him and himself.

Michael hard swallows. “Can I face you?” Gardner freezes again, eyeing him quietly while turning him around, softly pressing his body against the wall behind them. They're facing each other now, finally, with Michael excited to devour whatever new expressions were going to become available to him. This current one was strange and unreadable, a soft look in Guy's eyes as he continued to massage Holt's hips with his own hands. The large green ones had disappeared, but not the phallic figure that looked down at the both of them from just slightly above.

“What the fuck are you sweet talking me for, I don't need that shit.” The words are half grumbled, catching Michael by surprise. Was he sweet talking? He was just speaking bluntly about what he wanted… he considers if Gardner made a point of asking to watch his face during an act. It makes him shiver. He considers Gardner being the one to initiate holding hands, and squeezing in such a way. Maybe he was being unfair but those were things he had desired… and Guy had always encouraged that. He weighs his next words carefully.

“I'm telling you, and doing, what I want.”

This was the right reply apparently, because the ginger grins with a slight sadistic touch, pressing that somehow already slick object up and into him. “Me too. What a coincidence.” Michael's never had something actually go inside his ass before, especially not something with small bumps and ridges and that glowed and twitched. He squeezes his eyes shut, forehead resting on Guy's shoulder in that familiar nook he liked to rest in.

He forces himself to lift his head so he can watch as Gardner sinks himself onto the other end, green disappearing into flushed pink flesh. Michael never felt this hungry in his life. This turned on. He presses himself against the other man, feeling the full length of his invention shared between the two of them, with a fraction of it rubbing just against the underside of Michael. He watches Gardner closely. Avoiding his eyes, knowing that Gardner was watching him closely too. Gardner releases one of Michael's hands, keeping a tight hold on the other, using it to explore an already well explored body.

Michael wants to return the favor, and when he leans forward and presses a thumb first to the lip of his crotch, then slips it gently inside to play with what became his favorite spot of Gardner's- just because of how quick it made the tough exterior of the other melt - he watches as the other man arches his back and grunts. Almost like a bear in how animalistic he sounds. Holt is barely holding on and can feel the built up pool start to break, quickly trying to make up for lost time by gently massaging further, leaning forward and kissing him. They didn't kiss for long, usually, and it was typically foreplay. Michael didn't understand what the point of kissing was if they were already naked and touching each other. But Guy enjoyed kissing, judging by how long he liked to linger on it. Playing with his lips, his tongue, running his own tongue against his teeth.

So he kisses him now to try and get him close, earning an urgent reply from Gardner. He's rough and so much messier than usual, thick hot hand running against Michael's length with urgency as their teeth clicked together once or twice.

Michael came first. Again. The overwhelming heat was too much, his body shaking and shivering as Gardner pushed him through it, thrusting into the object with an intensity that pushed it further into the other. He's fighting a build up of salt in his eyes, only one tear slipping out as he manages to finally get Guy to come as well. The other man is noisy with it, his body clenching and unclenching as he kisses Michael with urgency, rolling his hips through it and forcing Michael through another wave of pleasure. They come together, though with Holt terribly spent by the time he's blinking away tears to look at Gardner. They're chest to chest, clothes abandoned on the floor of the doorway.

Michael licks his lips, thighs shaking as he suggests, “We should go upstairs.”

“Don't come around here wearing some other guy's clothes, and you can go upstairs.” He leans forward, pressing his nose to Holt's throat. Michael feels his body shudder in response, still overestimated even as the empty feeling inside him grows - Guy having disappeared his green friend. “You smell like him.” He warns, pressing his tongue to the spot as if he could just lick it off. Awful. He was so awful. Michael can barely hold himself up against the wall as Gardner leads him up and up the stairs, laughing as if his own legs didn't wobble with each stupid step, taking the both of them to the shower.

It was strange how normal Guy's apartment was. His decorations were plain, with hints of green thrown in here and there as if to make wearing the neon uniform more bearable at work. His bathroom was clean, really clean, and Guy led them right up onto a large bath tub. Michael shakes his head. With a pout, and wordlessly, he leads them to the glass framed shower. He nibbles Michael's shoulder the entire time they're not sudsing, almost like a content cat rocking behind him, enjoying the hot water pouring down between them. And he enjoyed it.

Holt felt fucked in more ways than one.