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Fives nuzzles right back, sloppy and slow, his breathing finally settling back to normal. He strains his neck around enough to catch Jedao's lips in an uncoordinated kiss, then lets go of Quentin's thigh and reaches for his shoulder instead, wanting to tug him closer for a kiss as well. He feels warm and loose and hazy and perfect, and he can't wait for Jedao to turn him over and set the needle to the skin of his back and feel it all again. And then feel both of them after, both of them in him.

"Gon' fuck me after," he slurs, eyes half shut and still glazed as he smiles up at Quentin. "Both of you. Promised."

"I don't have more magic in me tonight."

He warns, and bends down, cupping Fives' face in both hands and claiming a searing kiss.

"What if we got to the fucking now and reconvened sexy ink party two point oh tomorrow night?"

As much as he loves all their ambition and hunger, as much as he shivers as the mix of blood and ink on his fingertips smears over Five's cheeks.

"We can use stickies to protect the ones on front, then," Jedao allows, without even slightly clarifying that he means self-adhesive skin-mimicking bandages with a diluted bacta layer, native to Jedao's cabin's emergency first aid supplies and slightly augmented on the barge, currently stashed under Quentin's kitchen sink since the move-in.

Jedao nibbles on Fives' ear.

"It's your party, love."

Fives hums into the kiss, pleased and still more than a little loopy. When Quentin pulls away and suggests putting the rest of the ink off until tomorrow his expression falls, though, and he tugs at Quentin, trying to keep him close, trying to press their foreheads together without actually lifting his head from Jedao's shoulder.

"Want my eel," he answers a little plaintively, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he adds, "Want the needle back."

Quentin laughs, tenderly, and gives him another kiss, this time on the forehead, deciding;

"I could never say no to you. Okay- hold tight, let me get this set protected and then we'll roll over. I'm okay if I go back to playing pillow."

But he does lean away to get the adhesives to cover up the work they've done so far.

"You'll have your eel, ner'riduur," Jedao croons at him. "Very soon, promise. Everything you want."

His smile in response is almost beatific. "Love you," he murmurs, stroking Quentin's arm, reaching back to thread his fingers through Jedao's hair then stopping partway, entranced by the sight of the dragonfly on his forearm.

"Skin's gonna fit right again," he almost whispers, and completes the motion, tugging gently at Jedao's hair as he turns his head to nuzzle at his jaw.

"That's right."

He agrees, patching him up for safety, letting his touches linger as he does, vowing to himself to find them some edible paint for the future.

"The stories it contains-"

Jedao moans just a little for the tug on his hair, kisses Fives again, sloppy and strained, stroking a hand down Fives' chest, a moment of mindless indulgence before he takes up the needle again.

He groans into the kiss, and when it breaks turns back to beam at Quentin again as he bandages over the completed ink, unspeakably grateful for his understanding. Unspeakably grateful for both of these men, their touches and their care and their understanding of things he wasn't sure anyone but his brothers would ever get more than an inkling of.

When he's finished, he falls onto the bed next to them, and reaches to snag an arm around Fives' waist, giving him a tug to roll over and settle in.

"We're filthy," he observes, low and more than a little pleased, "look at us."

Jedao lets go enough to let them get resettled, wringing out his hand a little before retrieving the tattoo gun, finding the right color inks.

"Shift a little, there, flat canvas -" he encourages Fives with a nudge or two before straddling his hips again, from other side this time.

Fives rolls easily, happily, and sprawls between Quentin's legs, pillowing his head on his thigh. "Smell like me," he murmurs, just as pleased. Him and sex and sweat and magic. At least he imagines magic has a smell. Imagines he can still feel it, pulsing warm under his skin.

He shifts as Jedao directs, then shifts a little more, getting his hips settled, feeling himself still half hard against the sheets as Jedao settles over him. "Vor entye," he murmurs his thanks to both of them as he drapes an arm over Quentin's leg and goes limp in preparation for the first touch of the needle.

"Translate that for me?"

Asks Quentin, who's picking up the edges of the language here and there. He snuggles Fives in cozily, makes sure he's supported and draped comfortably, that he himself is at an angle where there's no bad pressure on his back.

"It means thank you," Jedao tells him, voice utterly tender for both of them.

"Mmmm, that," Fives confirms, his voice low and hazy and warm as he reaches his hand up under the hem of Quentin's shirt to just touch skin. "Thank you for this, and for everything," he mumbles, reaching back with his other hand to pat blindly for Jedao's knee.

He strips his shirt up and off, quickly, and settles back down with them, eyes going half shut.

"Ready."

He'll drift while they work.

The pain is deeper, harsher, brighter; so much of the main body eel is inked directly over the bone of Fives' spine, grounded by Jedao's steady weight on top of him.

"You're taking it so well, baby," Jedao murmurs as he slowly works his way down Fives' back.

The pain is grounding, perfect, beautiful. Fives goes absolutely lax beneath Jedao's weight, breath going slow and deep and even as he sinks into it. Even his hand on Quentin's skin goes perfectly still.

He can picture every line as Jedao brings them to life on his skin, can smell the faint metallic tang of blood on the air. "'S perfect," he slurs, eyelids fluttering as he sinks and sinks into the warm haze of Quentin's skin, Jedao's weight over his hips, his hands guiding the needle as it pierces his flesh. Perfect.

"I think you're melting."

Murmurs Quentin, fingertips stroking easy circles, feeling the heavy puddle of him settle down and in.

"You're radiant like this, you know."

"We won't even need to prep him much before we fuck him," Jedao suggests - exaggerates - far more for the erotic impact of the idea on both of them than because that's actually his plan.

Fives hums contentedly in response to Quentin, wallowing in the warmth of his voice and the feel of his fingers in his hair. And then Jedao chimes in and he groans, deep and low, and barely has the presence of mind to keep from shifting his hips in reaction to the thought of both of them pushing into him, barely any prep, just stretching him wide as he takes it.

Quentin chuckles, and feels his own eyes drift all the way shut.

"You're giving me such nice things to dream about."

"I will tattoo 'I was supposed to double-team my fiance but I fell asleep' on your ass, my darling," Jedao threatens, lovingly.

Fives is almost too far down to notice the byplay. Almost, but not quite, and he huffs a quiet, sweet laugh at Jedao's teasing.

"Want you both... both in me," he slurs warmly. "No... sleeping."

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magician_king - 2019-08-20 01:36 (UTC) - Expand