agoodyarn | For notrosecolored : Bonnie and Clydin' It

If Scott had nothing else going for him, he had the ability to be carried in flight without drama or nausea. He relaxed a bit at the kiss, tucked his face when Hernan settled his forehead against Scott's temple and then he just held on. He didn't try and look, didn't get scared and cling, he just went for a ride.

He unwound when the motion stopped and looked up and around, tilted his head and then, by every appearance got captivated.

Which held even while a tall, pale, guy with a lot of dark hair and red eyes slipped into the room silently. Into the room and with absolute confusion.

Hernan, on the other hand, noticed all of this... and couldn't help the bright, slightly wicked smile that lit his face.

"Perfect! Let us get this over with, shall we?"

Which was when he leaned down and pulled Scott into a firm, passionate, unquestionable kiss. It said, in no uncertain terms, that the recipient held his love and no small measure of his lust.

Once he had made sure that was accomplished, he carefully slipped away (making sure not to jar) before heading right to Kirk... and doing the exact same thing. At which point he looked from one to the other and spread his hands.

"Discuss if you wish. I am going to get myself a drink."

Neither one of them started off comfortable with that kind of kiss in front of the other, for different reasons. Both of them eventually yielded a bit, but stayed uncomfortable in the situation itself.

Tense, anyway. Tight shoulders, if nothing else.

Then both turned almost in unison to fix a red stare (well, two) on Hernan. Looked back at each other and Scott lifted his eyebrows to ask: "Do you wish?"

Kirk said, "No." And then Scott resumed looking out at the impressive view.

Kirk looked bemused and lost. For a second. Before he rounded on Hernan and - "What was that?"

"That," he said as he lifted his drink, "was making sure that everyone was on the same page."

He took a sip of his drink, enjoyed the burn, and lowered the glass.

"I won't lie, to either of you. About anything. So I thought it was best to make my feelings on the matter clear so you can both stop being so nervous."

"And you couldn't have done this before you disappeared on an impromptu road-trip with some guy I'd never even heard of?"

Kirk was arguing with Hernan. Scott was... present and listening, but absolutely not interrupting. He was looking at Metropolis.

Or waiting.

One of the two.

"His name is Scott. I know you are not usually rude, so there is no reason to be now."

Sip.

"And besides the fact that you were grieving, I had thought you were fully aware of my feelings on the matter and did not feel the same in return. I will not apologize for that, nor will I draw back from what I feel for either of you. This is how it happened and now we must deal with it."

"You won't apologize for assuming that I was fully aware of something I had no idea about?" He arched his eyebrow sharply. The rude remark he more or less ignored, except - then he couldn't. "I said I had never heard of. Obviously now I have."

He even glanced at Scott but - well, Scott had excused himself from the discussion and seemed quite content to stay excused from it. So Kirk carried on.

"You are the foremost detective in the world. If you did not see, it was because you were not looking. And I would not ask you to apologize for that either."

He made his way over to the couch. Too much standing. He would at least be comfortable for this.

"What do you want me to say, Kirk? I will say it. Depending on what it is, I may even mean it. I have loved you since I pulled the rat from your mouth in that mierda alleyway. What else is there to say?"

"Well, that puts a new spin on Magnus, doesn't it?" Except it was true. He didn't want to see that, so he didn't and -

He couldn't exactly apologize for that. It was just too big and too terrible.

He crossed to the couch but stood in front of Hernan and gave a huffy sigh. "I don't want you to say anything. I think I might actually prefer you stop saying things."

"That's fine with me. Though I think Scott is enjoying the show. Or at least getting something from it."

He was content to lean back in his seat and finish his whiskey.

"It is a lovely view, however. There is a reason we are not the Bunker of Justice."

Edited 2015-12-07 15:06 (UTC)

Scott and Kirk had more in common than red-eyes. They were both incredibly, incredibly insecure and lonely men. Kirk because of his apparent, terrible, taste in friends and neither one of them had any real self-worth.

They handled things differently, outwardly expressed things differently, had major, major differences as well, but.

In the moment, they were basically sharing a single reaction between them - not mirrored or echoed but divided.

Kirk was nervous and confused. Scott was tense and... resigned. Fortunately, neither was inherently monogamous, so none of that factored in.

Kirk looked at Hernan, then looked at Scott, then looked back to Hernan, sighed and walked over to Scott and put a hand on his shoulder.

He felt tension abruptly ramp up under his hand while Scott turned around. His hand moved as Scott turned, went from his shoulder to the middle of his chest - then he pushed Scott back until he was being held against the glass wall.

Scott's hand came up and wrapped around Hernan's wrist, hard enough to turn the knuckles white. Then that, exactly that, held for a few long seconds while Kirk waffled and considered and Scott kept waiting. For something. Afraid? A little, actually, but not terribly so.

The stillness of the scene broke abruptly. Scott started to do something, reach up or reach out. Kirk grabbed him by the wrist and stopped the motion. Scott snarled, Kirk growled back and whirled them away from the glass and they landed on the floor. Hernan really should probably just leave it alone. It looked sort of like a cat fight, but shit was being worked out.

The only thing Hernan did was turn so he could watch. Of course, he was doing so to make sure that no one was seriously injured.

...of course.

There was an honest to god fight from that point. Two things never entered into the equation, though: Kirk never brought his full strength or speed into play, and Scott never reached for his visor. There was, however, a definite growling, snarling, grunting, punching, rolling and wrestling even going on in the middle of the floor. Furniture got knocked around, and broken. Bruises happened. Blood was definitely spilled, though only from noses and lips and the result of punches and fists.

It was, while it lasted, an honest to god brawl.

The thing was, they both knew what they were trying to accomplish, even if they were making the other work for it - or, well, Scott was making Kirk work for it. The outcome of the fight was a pretty foregone conclusion, even with the restraints they'd wordlessly, apparently, agreed to. Which meant that, yeah, it ended up with Scott on his back with Kirk over him and both hands pinned down.

It also ended up with Scott relaxing, and after a moment giving a huffy sort of laugh and baring his throat very deliberately.

Kirk was.. well he was Kirk and there was blood in the air and all over Scott. He took what was being offered. Scott yelped, jumped, almost freaked and then just relaxed again at a barely audible sound from Kirk.

Hernan leaned back to ease the strain on his jeans even though all he wanted was to lean forward. Watch in greater detail.

He had known something like this was necessary; Kirk and Scott both were both thinking men with an intense need to settle things with violence. It was one of his favorite things about them both.

Though that list was shortly becoming how it looked when the two of them were brawling in the Tower's upper room. And Kirk's fangs pressed into Scott's skin as he drank--

Dios mio, that should not have been so arousing. No, no, that wasn't true. There was nothing that wouldn't be arousing here, between the blood and the fight and the beautiful men on the floor in front of him...

Now he just had to watch Scott's heart and make sure Kirk didn't take too much.

Kirk wasn't exactly known for his self-control when it came to blood coming out of a person. Scott was aware of that, but he was also not fighting Kirk, at least not yet. Because he wasn't a masochist but this was turning him on, too.

It was sure as hell turning Kirk on, though more so because Scott and Hernan were turned on.

Nothing much outwardly happened for several seconds, but eventually Scott tugged at his wrists, Kirk freed them and Scott buried both of his hands in Kirk's hair. Arched up and tugged Kirk back at the same time. Kirk - let go of Scott's throat, looked and was confused and got more confused when Scott curled up and crashed into a kiss that was all about licking the taste of his own blood out of Kirk's mouth.

Point had been made, things established - and he'd yielded a lot, but he had a point or two of his own to make. About the fact that to some degree he'd let this happen and also, hey, blood. And also also: He hadn't lost enough of it to be in danger, but he was riding a particular kind of high.

He let Scott make his point before carefully gliding to the floor and sliding his hand against the back of Kirk's neck, fingers brushing against Scott's as he let his other hand run into Scott's hair.

"You are both so beautiful but I have never had much patience for watching. May I join you or is this a private party?"

Scott let go of Kirk's hair when he felt Hernan's fingers brush against his - even before the hand in his own hair. Kirk turned toward Hernan and basically crashed into him - not the same way Scott had with Kirk, but a little more nervous energy and need.

Scott kept his other hand resting on Kirk, but mostly he was just there and was content to watch for the time being, at least as long as someone was also touching him. Blame blood loss. It would even be sort of true. "I'd say that means you're welcome," he murmured.

Hernan couldn't help the soft moan into the kiss. He could taste Scott on Kirk's lips, Scott's kiss and Scott's blood and Kirk's mouth all in one and it was perfect, pure perfection that made his hand in Scott's hair tighten just a little.

He felt the need to share it, to adjust the balance of his lovers in his senses, and leaned down to press a kiss to Scott even as his fingers squeezed and rubbed along the back of Kirk's neck.

Kirk arched his neck like a cat, but moved away from Scott. Not away-away but enough to get on the other side of Hernan so Superman was surrounded. He also pushed and nudged and basically made a pest of himself to get Hernan to lie down.

Once he had, Kirk made short work of getting Hernan's pants open and shirt pushed up.

Scott responded by rolling up onto one hip, bracing a hand on Kirk's shoulder (reaching across to do it) and continuing the kiss - lazily. Languidly. He was pretty damned content.

Kirk was pretty damned determined. Somehow, it balanced.

Hernan was pretty damn happy to let Kirk work. Usually, the other man tended towards a more passive attitude about things but once he pounced...

Hernan was a fan of being pounced. He was also a fan of Kirk getting his pants off while he kissed Scott. Especially since Kirk would know exactly how turned on he was. No questions. No doubts. This was literally the best thing he'd ever had happen to him and, he hoped, they both knew that was how he felt.

If they didn't, he would have to make sure they did by the time they were finished.

Scott was usually more active, so it balanced that he was being a bit more passive while Hernan pounced. Scott, in his defense, was not Superman and had gotten off recently. Is he turned on again? Yes, yes he is, and he handles that by basically taking Hernan's hand and putting it on his covered dick in a not so subtle message.

Kirk, meanwhile, is licking his way from Hernan's belly and downward.

There really is no doubt about where the focus is here, and the focus is Hernan.

Hernan can certainly understand that message and if he starts stroking Scott through the cloth, well, could anyone blame him? He shut out the rest of the world, focusing on his lovers so he didn't miss even the slightest of twitches.

Or licks. Dios, he's seen that tongue lick up blood too many times. Even if he hadn't already been hard, he would be now.

"Mi vida," before leaning into Scott's kiss.

"Mi corazon," as he arched up against Kirk's mouth.

Scott suddenly became very, very invested in shutting Hernan up, and as it so happened he had the means to do so - with his mouth. He knew what Kirk was doing and eventually got his hand in Kirk's hair, light and gentle and just barely there, but his focus never left Hernan.

Neither did Kirk's. It was just all mouths and hands and an intense focus on a shared lover, and a strong desire to show him how much he was wanted and valued, even if he had never been the one who needed the reassurance.

For notrosecolored : Bonnie and Clydin' It

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