clo (clo) wrote in clofic, @ 2005-07-06 14:49:00 |
|
|||
Multi-part: Parisian Dreams (NC-17, Andy Roddick/Roger Federer/Mardy Fish/Mirka Vavrinec)
Title: Parisian Dreams (4/4)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Andy/Mirka, Roger/Mardy, Mardy/Andy, Mardy/Mirka/Andy/Roger
Summary: Mardy and Mirka are pulling the strings while Roger and Andy are just trying to understand why they’re wandering, seemingly aimlessly, through the streets of Paris... and they’re not above a bit of manipulating of their own to try and get an explanation.
Notes: Sequel to Ficlet N, set in December 2004.
Part One.
Part Two.
Part Three.
It’s colder now it’s dark, curls of mist drifting lazily across the black waters of the Seine beside them. Mirka shivers, her jacket made for style rather than warmth and Andy’s arm slides around her shoulders, drawing her against him. She snuggles into his warmth, too cold to care about propriety and hell if everything goes to plan she’ll be sleeping with this man soon enough, so propriety be damned. For a moment she wonders what a picture they make; a couple with their arms around each other, walking beneath trees adorned with Christmas lights beside a misty river and she can’t help smiling. He’s her ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend and they’re on their way to meet said boyfriend and the man who, if she’s learnt anything at all about Mardy over the last few months, will have kissed said boyfriend at least once by now. It sort of ruins the romance until she realises that they’ve flown thousands of miles and risked everything to make this work, which, in a way, makes it more romantic than the idealised picture.
“You’re very quiet,” Andy murmurs. “It’s making me nervous.”
Mirka glances at him, being met with a broad smile and teasing hazel eyes. “Nervous? Andy Roddick? Never,” she teases back and gets a gentle elbow to the ribs in retaliation.
“You’ve got a wicked mouth on you.” Andy’s smile becomes a grin but there’s something in it, something almost wistful. “Roger always said you had but I insisted you looked too innocent. Damn I hate being proved wrong.”
For a moment Mirka struggles to catch her breath. “Roger talks about me?”
“Oh someone has to push him to but once he starts he won’t shut up.” Andy’s smile disappeared under a frown as he took in her stunned expression. “You didn’t think he would? Why the hell not?”
“I- I thought he wouldn’t need to.” Mirka’s too surprised to censor the bitterness lacing her words and they slip out knife-edged. “Not when he had you.”
“You really have no clue at all, do you?” Andy ignores the way Mirka stiffens against him, shaking his head in disbelief. “The guy worships the ground you walk on. I spent the first three weeks of the relationship trying to cut you out-“
“I remember. Lost messages, changed meeting times, taking Roger away to Spain on my birthday-“
“Please don’t remind me what an asshole I was.” Andy winced. “But remember when he turned up on your doorstep at 3am and asked to crash on your couch?”
“Yes.” Mirka frowned. “That was because of you? He said you were in Austin and he couldn’t stay in the house by himself.”
“He lied.” Andy isn’t looking at her now, his gaze fixed on a patch of empty air in front of them. “He worked out what I was doing and I’ve never seen him so mad. I had to grovel for more than a week to even get him to so much as look at me. Don’t even ask how long it was before he let me fuck him again; I still have nightmares about it.”
Mirka can’t believe what she’s being told. “He- he made you stop?” She’d always wondered about the American’s change of heart, putting it down to losing interest or his better nature making itself known at last. She’s not sure how she feels about it being due to Roger withholding sex.
Okay she is sure that it hurts her feelings a little. Noble Roger, still trying to do the right thing even after he left her. She’s going to yell at him for that as soon as the opportunity presents itself.
Though perhaps manipulating him the way she and Mardy have is revenge enough.
“Are you okay?” Andy sounds worried and it’s sweet, really, only right now she doesn’t really want to be this close to him. She tries to push him away but he holds on, tightens his grip. They’ve stopped walking, both Andy’s arms around her as he keeps her from pulling away. “Mirka I swear I regret it, not just because of Roger.” He takes a deep breath and she closes her eyes against the stinging tears; she’d almost forgotten that this man has been making her miserable for over a year simply by existing, simply by loving Roger. A few hours of being kind and sweet don’t change that. “I- Jealously makes me do strange things. I didn’t do it against you, I did it-“ He breaks off, sounds miserable when he speaks again. “I did it because he still loved you, even if he couldn’t admit it. I didn’t want to lose him back to you okay?”
“He would never-“
“I know.” Andy looks at her and his smile is bittersweet, nothing childlike about it anymore. “I know that now.”
She doesn’t know what to think and she doesn’t know how to feel. She was starting to like Andy; she was starting to love him if she dares admit it to herself and old rivalries don’t change what she’s seen tonight, what she sees in Mardy’s eyes when he talks about the blond American. She trusts Mardy’s judgement. She trusts her own despite past mistakes and right now that judgement is telling her Andy’s sincere. She glances up uncertainly only to find him looking at her pleadingly, eyes huge and reflecting the fairy lights like stars; it’s not hard to see how Roger gives into Andy so easily, with eyes like that. It’s like watching a puppy cower when he knows he’s done something wrong and it’s so cute it’s impossible for her not to smile.
“It’s okay. I’d have done the same thing in your position.”
Relief and guilt chase each other across Andy’s expression. “I’m so sorry, I really-“ His arm shift around her and paper crinkles loudly from the bag on her back. He frowns, drawing back slightly. “What’s that?”
“What? Oh, the sketch.” Mirka briefly forgets the tension between them as she searches through her bag to find the Montmartre sketch. It’s a little crumpled but intact.
“Sketch?” Andy’s lifted it from her hands before she can even reach for the ribbon holding it shut. “Of what?”
“Roger and me, in Montmartre-“ Mirka catches her breath as Andy pulls the ribbon free and the sketch unravels in his hands. She catches a brief glimpse of pencilled dark eyes before Andy’s moving away towards the nearest street light, eyes intent on the paper. She hurries to catch up.
“Andy-“
“Sssshhh.” He’s studying the drawing, a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to believe me when I say he loves you just as much as he ever loved me. Look.”
She does, peering around him cautiously as if she won’t like what she’ll see. What she does see brings a smile to her face, disbelief and surprise at how exactly the artist captured the moment in just a few simple lines. She’s looking directly outwards, amusement in the crinkles around her eyes, in the slight quirk to her smile. Roger however has his head tilted down, dark eyes with the darker lashes that she always envied fixed on her face. There’s a startled smile on his lips and adoration in every line of the sketch; he’s watching her as if seeing her for the first time, loving every inch of what he sees. Mirka blinks; she remembers the exact moment itself, when she looked towards the woman sketching them and glanced back only for Roger to hastily avoid her eyes. Andy makes a small sound that’s almost a sigh, almost a moan and her grip involuntarily tightens on his shoulder.
“I could never figure out why he left you for me.” There’s no bitterness in the American’s tone, only faint confusion. “Sure he loved me but he loved you too, still does. Not even he can hide it.”
“He left me because he needed you more.” Mirka leans against Andy’s shoulder, staring wistfully at the sketch. She can’t be angry at the American, not after today and not after having seen the sweetness hidden beneath the brash confidence and childish enthusiasm. She knows why Roger left her for Andy and she can’t guarantee that in his place, she wouldn’t have done exactly the same. “Roger’s always known what he needs and nothing ever stands in his way. Stubborn bastard.” She feels more than hears Andy’s laugh, vibrating through him. “He knew he needed you more than he needed me and I happened to be in his way.” On instinct she presses a kiss to Andy’s shoulder, damp cotton cool against her mouth and Andy’s looking at her again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What?”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Andy murmured. Mirka frowns, confused.
“What?”
“What? Oh nothing, just something Mardy said.” He turns to get a better look at her, smile fading to a contemplative look. “Would Mardy kiss you?” he demands and that probably takes the prize for the most bizarre question she’s heard all day. Andy’s staring at her intently, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t – he hasn’t if that’s what you’re asking-“
“No, I mean would he?” Andy insists and his arms are around her again, sketch still clasped lightly in one hand. Mirka shrugs helplessly, still with no idea where this conversation came from.
“Andy I don’t- maybe!” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I suppose he might, given the option.”
Andy smiles, relieved and a little wicked. “Good enough for me.”
And before she can work out what he means, he’s kissing her, warm mouth on hers and she’s reduced to trembling under the hands that slide suggestively over her shoulders, down her arms. Tension and rivalries forgotten, she kisses him back and loves the ripple of a shiver that runs through him, a quick intake of breath against her mouth.
“Does this mean it’s time to go meet Mardy and Roger?” he murmurs against her lips without leaning back. She smiles, kisses him again with a soft sound agreement.
“Good.” Andy’s hands tangle in her hair and she shudders, sliding her own hands up under his t-shirt, over bare skin that’s hot and smooth and his shiver matches hers. “Because I’m looking forward to getting you into an actual bed and putting that wicked mouth to good use.”
“Oh really?” Mirka grins, partly in disbelief at the nerve of him and she digs her fingers in deep in retaliation. He yelps, pulling back slightly with a laugh. “That’s funny because I’m pretty sure you’re the one who owes me a favour right now…”
“We’ll see.” Andy’s arms wrap around her waist and he glances up, around as if Mardy and Roger will appear by magic. “Where are they?”
“Just around the corner.” Mirka swallows because this is it, they’ve done all they can do and it’s really up to Andy and Roger now. “Come on. They’ll be waiting.”
~
“Roger if you don’t cut that out I’ll scream.”
“Please, feel free.” Roger grins and Mardy feels something flutter through him, adoration matching the thrill of pleasure from Roger’s hand massaging its way up his thigh under the table. They’re sitting at a table outside a café, underneath trees sparkling with yet more fairy lights and the black waters of the Seine swirling silently past nearby. Thankfully there’s no one else there, so Mardy’s muffled moan of pleasure doesn’t attract any unwanted attention. “It might let Andy and Mirka know how impatient we are.”
“Oh believe me, Andy and Mirka know,” a voice remarks behind them and Andy comes up behind them, wrapping his arms around Roger and pressing a kiss to the dark curls. “Care to tell me why you’re giving my best friend a hand job love?”
“He asked for one.” Roger turned his head for Andy to kiss him on the lips, ignoring Mardy’s outraged hiss of “I so did not!” “Had a good day?”
“Yeah.” Andy drops into the chair besides Roger as Mirka appears out the shadows and sits beside Mardy, exchanging a small smile with the American. “I learned some interesting things.” He looks across the table and meets Mardy’s eyes. They hold the contact for a long moment then Andy takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry Fish,” he says softly. Mardy is taken aback.
“For what?”
“For not telling you sooner. For telling you when I did.” Andy shrugs, lost for words. “Are… You’re okay with it yeah?”
“Andy,” Mardy says. He’s smiling and trying not to, genuine amusement in his tone. “If I wasn’t do you think I’d be sitting here?”
Andy thinks for a second. “I guess not,” he admits and there’s relief in his tone. “So, what are we waiting for?”
“Whoa.” Roger sits up, his hand leaving Mardy’s thigh and the American makes a small sound of disappointment. Andy kicks him under the table, Mardy evading it with a laugh. “Andy just listen. I want to know how this… plan is going to work.”
Mardy frowns at him across the table. “How’d you mean?”
“Well.” Roger pauses, seeming to think hard about how to phrase his next words. “I mean to say… How are… we going to work?” His dark eyes flick from Mardy to Mirka, Andy frowning next to him as he thinks it through. “It won’t be just a…”
“A one-off,” Andy supplies and Roger nods.
For a moment Mardy’s too surprised to speak. He hears Mirka catch her breath beside him, her hand tightening around the arm of her chair and he knows she’s furious. He rests a warning hand on her wrist and glares across the table at Roger.
“You think we’d go to all this effort to… to just…” He can’t think of a polite way to finish but Mirka says what he’s thinking, disgust in her tone.
“Just to fuck you? Come on Roger you’re good but you’re not that good.” Mardy sees Roger flinch and almost feels sorry for him, despite his hurt at what the Swiss just implied. “This isn’t about sex Roger, it’s about us.
“Can at least a little bit of it be about sex?” Andy tries to lighten the mood and gets three fierce glares directed at him. “Ouch. Maybe not then.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Roger insists. There’s an edge to his words and he stares directly at Mirka as he speaks. “I meant how will we manage it? Two countries, four people… it’ll take a lot of work you know.”
“We did it,” Andy points out and gets surprised looks from everyone, including Roger. “Well we did. I assume when there’s just two of us together we’ll still be allowed to… you know…”
“Do you ever think about anything but sex?” Mirka demands and Andy grins at her.
“Not really. Very occasionally I think about tennis but most of the time it’s just sex.”
“He’s joking,” Mardy says wearily before Mirka can retaliate. Andy frowns at him.
“I am?”
Mardy rolls his eyes and continues as if Andy hadn’t spoken. “I see your point Roger, but honestly it won’t be much different to how you and Andy worked. Me and Andy will fly to Switzerland whenever we can, you and Mirka to America whenever you can. We spend most of the year on tour together anyway. It’ll be a normal relationship only… with four people.”
“Foursomes!” Andy murmurs gleefully and three separate feet hit his shins at the same time. “Fucking ouch! I’m only saying what you’re all thinking.”
Roger sighs but turns away from his boyfriend to Mardy who’s frowning now, unsure if he likes where this is going. “So you’re telling me if I’m with Andy and you’re not, you won’t get jealous?”
Mardy’s about to make a flippant reply, I won’t if you won’t, but his common sense asserts itself and he bites the words back, knowing Roger’s serious. “I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “Could you say if you’d be jealous? If it was me and Mirka?”
Roger looks startled. “I- I don’t know,” he admits. “I’d like to think not, but...” His eyes meet Mirka’s across the table. “I couldn’t say for sure.”
“Then we won’t know until we try.” Mardy shrugs, glancing across at Mirka who’s fallen silent. “Mirka? What do you think?”
“I think my opinion is pretty much clear, from how much work I’ve – we’ve – put into this.” Her eyes flick from Roger to Andy as she turns the hand Mardy’s still touching, twining her fingers through his. “We can make this work. I think today proved that, if nothing else.”
Mardy glances around the table. Everyone is looking pensive, Roger watching Mirka as he reaches over to link hands with Andy, who in turn is looking sideways at Mardy. “So we’re decided?” Happiness bubbles up but he holds it back, waiting for the other three to confirm it. “We’re going to try this?”
“Yes,” Mirka says firmly but Mardy hadn’t expected anything else from her. Andy squeezes Roger’s hand and smiles across the table at his fellow American.
“I’m in.”
Roger hesitates.
Mardy’s heart sinks; the Swiss seemed into this only half an hour ago and the sense-memory of slender fingers on Mardy’s thigh proves it. Without Roger they’ve got nothing. He looks pleadingly at Andy who understands and leans over to the Swiss, pressing a kiss to Roger’s lips.
“It’s okay Roj,” he whispers. “Trust me. Trust Mardy and Mirka. Please.”
Roger hesitates a second longer, staring searchingly into Andy’s face before closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. “I trust you. Okay.”
Oh god. They’d done it. Mardy swallows, takes a deep breath and Mirka’s hand tightens around his.
“So,” she says, the faintest tremor of nerves in her voice. “Our hotel or yours?”
~
Roger’s room is as neat as Mirka knew it would be, suitcase tucked out the way in the corner, clothes from the night before folded tidily on top of it. Andy wanders over to the bed as Roger locks the door behind them, dropping onto it experimentally.
“Mardy you suck at picking hotels. This bed is better than ours.”
“Ours?” Roger queries with a smile, tossing the room key aside and wrapping his arms around Mirka from behind. She leans into him, smiling as his lips press briefly to her bare shoulder, jacket and scarf thrown carelessly towards the nearest chair. He’s warm and everything she remembers, strength in the slender arms that are locked around her waist, shivers running over tawny skin as she presses back against him.
“I bribed the doorman,” Mardy confesses and outrage flashes across Andy’s face. Mirka stifles a giggle; she hadn’t known that part of the plan had worked.
“You what?!”
“Relax, it’s not like I snored.” Mardy crosses to the bed to sit beside Andy, followed by the entwined Roger and Mirka. Andy slides an arm around Mardy’s waist as the other American sits down but something catches his eye before he can turn to kiss him.
“Inferno?” he questions, reaching over to tap the book on Roger’s bedside table. “I swear Roger, universities across the world lost out when you chose tennis over school.”
“You should read it,” Roger offers, still standing, wrapped around Mirka. “It could be… educational.”
“Screw that.” Andy directs a bright smile at the Swiss. “I’m the handsome stupid one. You’re the intellectual.”
“Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’intrate,” Mardy quotes unexpectedly. The other three turn to stare at him. “What? It’s a good book.”
“You sound so fucking sexy speaking Latin,” Andy murmurs, tangling a hand in his friend’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. Mardy resists with a grin.
“It’s Italian.”
“Latin, Italian, English, I don’t care. You sound sexy anyway.”
Mirka shivers as she watches Andy leans in to kiss his friend, Mardy’s eyes fluttering shut when their mouths meet. She knows how much Mardy wanted this, has wanted it since he was seventeen and behind her she hears Roger choke back a sound that she guesses was going to be a protest, watching his boyfriend kiss another man. She turns in his arms, catching his chin and gently forcing him to look at her.
“Relax,” she whispers in German, so the other two won’t understand. “It doesn’t make him love you any less.”
“I know.” Roger swallows and manages a smile. “I just didn’t expect to feel so… it surprised me, that’s all.”
“Hey.” Andy, flushed and smiling, is at her shoulder, Mardy leaning against him as if he’ll fall without Andy to hold him up. “How is this going to work? Share and share alike?”
Mirka glances from him to Roger, knowing underneath the implacable expression Roger is a trembling mix of jealousy and want. They’ll have to ease him into this and watching Andy fuck Mardy probably isn’t the best way to do it. She takes a deep breath and remembers Andy kissing her barely an hour ago, all wicked eyes and hot skin. She might even enjoy this.
“I think we should start by breaking down some walls,” she says softly, watching Roger’s reaction. His eyes are on hers, wary but curious and that’s a good sign. “We all know why we and Mardy did this but for us to work as a foursome, we can’t have preferences.” She goes on tiptoe to brush a light kiss across Roger’s mouth then lets him go, turning to hold a hand out to Andy who looks surprised. “I think you owe me for a certain comment about my mouth Roddick.”
There’s a tense moment when she feels Roger stiffen behind her and she’s about to turn hastily back to reassure him when Mardy’s pushing past her, sliding his arms around Roger and kissing him. A moment later she hears the American murmuring words of comfort too soft for her to hear and mentally makes a note that she owes Mardy one as Andy takes her hand.
“Let me guess - you want to prove that my mouth is as wicked as yours,” he suggests with a grin, leading her towards the bed. His free hand is already under her shirt, tracing calloused fingertips lightly up and down her back and as they reach the bed he lets go of her hand to start unbuttoning her shirt. She shivers, smiling at the tip of his tongue sticking out his mouth as he concentrates on the fiddly buttons. The same tongue is as hot as it was earlier when she leans in to kiss him and he slips her shirt off while she’s distracted, the soft, wordless sounds he’s making enough to sends thrills racing through her. It was always a challenge to draw sounds out of Roger, his iron-clad self control working even when he was bucking up beneath her, her mouth wrapped around him and she was putting her considerably talented tongue to good use. It became almost a challenge to make him scream at times but listening to Andy, already moaning as her fingers start to undo his belt, she has a feeling that won’t be an issue here.
God she’s glad there’s only her empty room next door. Mardy had told her a month back that both Roger and Andy had been thrown out a hotel for ‘disturbing other guests’ and it had taken some serious money to keep the story away from the press. Five-star hotels have thick walls, but Andy’s already making enough noise for two of them and he’s going to be making more before long. She smiles against his mouth and pushes him gently backwards onto the bed, letting his jeans fall as he willingly goes.
“You’re good at this,” he murmurs as she straddles his bare thighs and it’s enough to make her laugh, inane pride flushing through her at the compliment. She tugs his t-shirt over his head to hide her blush and bends to run her tongue up his chest as she tosses it aside, surprised by the resulting cry from him. Guess he likes that. She does it again, the faintest trace of hair tickling her lips and a slight tang of sweat to his pale skin. Another difference from Roger who is all soft, dark hair and tawny skin underneath, slender limbs and dark eyes, watching her every move. Andy by contrast is more muscled, heavier built than Roger and she can see what drives the legions of girls crazy over him, she really can because he’s gorgeous, sun-kissed skin smooth and perfect. He arcs under her and she lets her mouth slip lower, pausing lick the trail of hair leading downwards from his belly button, just to hear the muffled shout she knows will result. He’s practically incoherent when she finally frees him of his briefs.
Something hits the bed next to them and she glances over to see Roger on top of Mardy, both of them naked and the sight enough to make her breath catch, awe and arousal mingling as Roger drags his mouth over Mardy’s neck. She starts to move over to give them more room on the bed and before she can stop him Andy’s rolling her on her back, pinning her wrists above her head and smiling down at her, still struggling to catch his breath. The heat of him through her jeans makes her shudder and she suddenly wants them off. He seems to understand as she bucks up into him, releasing her hands to make short work of her belt and it’s bliss to finally get rid of constricting denim, skin on skin as she rubs against him. Her eyes are closed and the kiss is a surprise, fierce intent behind it and she can’t hold back a moan.
“Want me to prove how wicked my mouth is?” he murmurs. She can only nod, shivering a constant now and his mouth working it’s way steadily downwards is reward enough for the months spent planning this. Mardy moans beside her and she feels blindly for his hand, twining her fingers through his just as Andy’s tongue slides between her legs and she’ll be surprised if that scream hasn’t woken half the hotel. Despite the thrills racing through her from what Andy’s doing with his tongue – fuck, she hadn’t known it was possible for anyone’s tongue to do that – she feels Mardy’s hand tighten convulsively around hers and knows it means Roger is doing to him exactly what Andy is doing to her, with some minor changes in geography. With a wave of relief she breathes out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding and lets go, her hips arcing up into Andy’s mouth as she shivers through orgasm, everything briefly reduced to pleasure racing through her. Andy keeps going until she shifts away with a muffled protest.
“Hey,” she whispers and he slides back up the bed for a kiss, salty-wet lips on hers and the fact that Roger and Mardy have stopped moving takes a minute to register through the fog of pleasure. She breaks the kiss to look over at them and finds both of them watching her and Andy, brown eyes as equally fascinated as grey-blue and she blushes. She’s never done anything like this with an audience before but Andy brushes a reassuring kiss over her forehead and it’s okay, because it’s Mardy and Roger who probably know her better than anyone by now. It’s then she realises Mardy’s eyes are half closed and he’s moaning a little at the back of his throat, trying to arc up into Roger’s hand while the Swiss holds him down. She doesn’t remember Roger being cruel and glares accusingly up at him, only to be met with a smile.
“It’s not my place,” he tells her and leans over to kiss Andy who’s still sitting across her thighs. “I think it’s your turn love.”
“You sure?” Andy hesitates and Mirka can tell he wants to by the way he bites his lip, by the lightening-quick glance down at Mardy and back up to Roger. “We’re sharing-“
“He’s been waiting for this a long time, I think,” Roger says with a glance to Mirka and she nods. “It’s right for it to be you.”
“I love you.” Andy kisses the Swiss again, one hand coming up to tangle in Roger’s hair and Mirka watches them with an ache in her heart, because if the four of them are ever as good together as Andy and Roger were then they’ll be lucky. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m counting on it,” Roger murmurs teasingly and in a tangle of limbs and movement they’ve changed places, Roger sitting beside her while Andy kneels between Mardy’s legs, whispering soft words of encouragement. Roger passes him something that Mirka can’t see and Andy grins, pressing a final kiss to the Swiss’ mouth before turning his entire attention to the blond American writhing in front of him. Mirka isn’t looking. She’s watching Roger who in turn is watching her with a small smile.
“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her, lips wet and soft and everything she’s missed, a salty tang that she thinks must be Mardy lingering on his tongue. “I missed you.”
“Hey,” she whispers back, lips brushing his. “I missed you too.”
~
Mardy isn’t sure what he’s saying anymore. Hell, he isn’t even sure what he’s thinking. Roger has a fucking talented mouth and all Mardy can think of right now is finishing what the Swiss started, so hard it hurts and a large, calloused hand wrapping around his cock makes him cry out, arcing into the touch. He opens his eyes to see Andy, flushed in the dim light and smiling down at him. Briefly Mardy wonders if he’s dreaming because this can’t be real; he’s dreamed Andy, naked and leaning over him, too many times for it to actually be happening. Then the other American bends down for a kiss and it’s Andy’s mouth on his that finally convinces Mardy this is genuine because Andy kisses like he plays tennis, hard and fast with desperation lacing the scrape of hard teeth on soft lips. The first lube-slick finger sliding into him is a shock and Mardy breaks the kiss to gasp, Andy pausing, finger half inside the other American.
“Shh,” he soothes, kissing Mardy again. “Just relax. It’s okay.”
“I know,” Mardy mumbles because he has done this before, though not often and he knows the brief discomfort is worth it. It’s the fact that it’s Andy doing it that he can’t quite believe and in an effort to make himself feel it he pushes his hips up, begging without words. Andy gets the hint and adds a second finger, working them in and out in time to his hand sliding over Mardy’s cock. It’s enough to make Mardy cry out, quivering on the very edge.
“Andy for godssake just fuck me,” he gasps and Andy’s laugh would make him smile if he wasn’t so fucking hard. He lets his head drop back onto the pillow at the first push and lifts his legs to lock them around Andy’s waist, a stifled moan escaping clenched teeth as the other American slides in another inch.
Beside them Roger and Mirka are getting reacquainted and enjoying every minute of it from the sounds they’re making but Mardy can’t spare them more than a passing thought, all his attention on Andy inside him, shivers running between them and Andy leans down to kiss him again, the change of angle making Mardy almost whimper into his lover’s mouth. Andy rests their foreheads together, holding himself carefully motionless.
“You okay?” he whispers and Mardy swallows.
“I will be when you move goddamit,” he growls back and Andy’s laughing as he does just that, drawing out then pushing back in, Mardy digging his hands into the bed to stop himself writhing with pleasure at the feeling. Andy can’t keep it slow for more than a few thrusts; Mardy arcs his hips up and lets Andy slam into him, everything he’s wanted since he was seventeen right here, even if he hadn’t planned on the involvement of Roger and Mirka, currently moaning beside him. Andy’s hand finds his and their fingers lace together as Mardy comes, hard enough for the world to blank out for a second and Andy’s coming a second after him, gasping Mardy’s name. As the rush of orgasm finally subsides, Andy leaning tiredly down to press another kiss to his mouth, Mardy knows this, the four of them, is going to work and happiness makes him laugh, wrapping his arms around Andy and kissing him harder.
Beside them Roger and Mirka come together with joint cries, Roger dropping to the bed next to her a minute later, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. The four of them are tangled together and Mardy reflects contentedly that it’s how it should be, Andy curling up against his chest with his face buried in Mardy’s shoulder, Mirka wrapped around Roger on the other side of him. They’re all too tired to speak and Mardy feels Andy’s breathing slow, sweat and come and lube gluing them together and he’d be worried about having to peel themselves apart in the morning if he wasn’t so happy. From what he can see over Andy’s shoulder Roger is asleep too and as he looks, Mirka glances back with a smile. All the years of waiting and the months of hard planning paid off and they’re right where they want to be, right where they should be.
Mardy returns Mirka’s smile with a lazy, contented one of his own before closing his eyes and drifting into sleep, listening to the slow, soft breathing of his three lovers.