Teddy’s hands massage James’s lower back, and without Teddy holding him there, impaled on his cock, James is sure he’d slither into a ball on the bed, recoiling from whatever is about to happen next. And yet, that dark, secret place inside him wants to know… wants Teddy to hold him there for it, unable to run, able only to wait, exposed and wanting.

“Can I…?” Albus’s voice is closer now.

Even the skin behind James’s ears is tense.

“Jamie,” Albus says softly. Then his fingers sift through James’s hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp. James wants to shiver but fights it. “Look at me,” Albus says.

James swallows. He gathers everything within himself that he’s able to, and he turns his head on the pillow, opening heavy lids, and testing a glance up at Al’s face.

Albus’s dark hair is dishevelled, his pale skin ghostly so except for the blush that sits high on his cheekbones. He licks his lips, and James wants his brother’s mouth on his cock or Albus’s cock in his own mouth. Jesus, he wants it. He has to close his eyes or risk Al knowing. But then Albus’s hand moves over his head again, warm and slow, and James peeks up at him once more, breath held.

Whatever Albus sees in him makes him blink, makes his lips part, makes him take a questioning look at Teddy before blinking back to James’s face. “Fuck,” he breathes, his hand sifting James’s hair out of his eyes with such strange tenderness. James breathes so shallowly it can hardly be called breath. His gaze locks with his brother’s. Then Albus’s hand is gone. And he starts working his jeans open.

James hardly has a moment to process this because Teddy pulls out again and lays James onto his back once more. He cradles James’s face in a hand.

James glances over and watches his brother getting undressed. Then he closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“It’s okay,” Teddy tells him. “There’s lube in the drawer,” he says to Albus, voice different when he’s talking to someone besides James, and fire bursts along James’s every nerve, shame, lust, fear, joy, all at once. “Come here,” Teddy says to him again now, gathering him close and rolling them so that once again James lies atop him. “We’re going to make you come so hard.”

Teddy holds his cock by the base and waits for James to sit on it. He’s going to let—he’s going to make James do it himself, initiate it. Albus is quickly shucking his shoes, his jeans, his pants. It would be comical if it was under any other circumstance. James strategically doesn’t spare him a look, keeping his gaze locked on Teddy’s face as he helps aim Teddy’s cock and then slides it home inside himself, wiggling his hips as he settles with it lodged deep.

“Do you mean…” starts Al. “... both of us? At the same time?”

“Get behind him, Albus,” Teddy says, staring into James’s lust-drunk eyes. James can feel his heart hammering away at his ribcage, the pound of it so fast it’s almost dangerous.

The bed dips behind him, and Albus’s heat nears his back. James’s lashes flutter, his arse tightening on Teddy’s length.

“James,” Albus says quietly just behind him, not yet touching. “Jamie, I want—”

James doesn’t think. He turns, grabs the t-shirt Albus is still wearing, and he jerks him in, their lips crashing together, his own tongue seeking and then easily gaining entrance. Albus groans as James pushes his tongue in, tasting his brother’s mouth, opening wider when Albus thrusts his tongue over his and kisses him back roughly.

James can hear Teddy’s breathing grow ragged… feels his hands up his stomach, his chest, even as everything else becomes Albus: the air he’s breathing, the cotton tight in his fist, the body hot beneath his knuckles, the hands now not just touching him but grabbing for him, rough and eager. Albus’s teeth sink into his lip, and James gasps out of the kiss.

“Sorry,” Albus murmurs.

“Fuck you,” James grits out. And he kisses him again, now moving a little in Teddy’s lap, easing his cock in and out in a way that has him making little sounds into Albus’s mouth.