cupidandpsycho (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cupidandpsycho) wrote2009-01-11 06:06 pm
cupidandpsycho) wrote2009-01-11 06:06 pm
Fic: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
Title: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
Series: Three for All
Characters: Lester/Lyle/Abby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Implied slash! Het! Threesome, yay! Oh, and frantic frottage. *blushes*
Summary: Lester, Abby, and Lyle have dinner and sort things out. Well, sorta. Okay, the only thing that happens is angst followed by dirty sex.
Disclaimer: Lyle belong to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fredbassett. I thank her for letting me play porny games with him. Abby & Lester are the property of Impossible Pictures.
Authors Note: Thanks tofredbassett again for being an awesome beta.
"What's all this then?" Lyle asked, looking curiously at Lester as the older man set the dining room table.
Lester had wondered when Lyle would pick up on the fact he was preparing dinner for three. Lyle had been studiously avoiding him since he'd got home from the ARC. Just like he'd been avoiding Lester ever since he'd shared the revelation of his affair with Abby. Lyle would slip out of the flat in the mornings, before Lester awoke, and not return until late at night, when he would conveniently fall asleep on the sofa while Lester lay miserable and alone in their bed.
Thanks to some prodding by Ryan - to whom Lester now owed a favor - Lyle had arrived home precisely at five, barely mumbling a hello to Lester before grabbing a beer and parking himself on the sofa, where he feigned watching F1 highlights on Sky Sports.
"We have a guest coming over for dinner," Lester said to the tabletop as he laid out the good silver. Lyle wasn't the only one good at avoidance.
"Who?" Lyle asked, suspicion evident in the tone of his voice. Lester took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever Lyle's reaction would be, and opened his mouth... only to be interrupted by the impeccably timed buzz of the intercom.
"That would be our guest," Lester said. Leaving the last of the silverware in its proper place, he walked around the table and to the door, where he hit the 'talk' button on the intercom. "Yes, Howard?"
"Miss Abby Maitland to see you and the Lieutenant, Sir James."
"Yes, thank you Howard. Please send her up."
"Of course, Sir James."
Lester turned from the intercom and nearly jumped out of his skin, finding himself faced with a visibly angry Special Forces soldier.
"What the fuck are you playing at?" Lyle demanded, eyes flashing dangerously. "Are you trying to punish me?"
Lester scoffed at that, even as he found himself backed against the wall.
"If this was about punishing you, Jon, I'd have thrown you out on your arse four days ago."
Lyle at least had the grace to blush. "Then what the hell is this about?"
Lester opened his mouth once, twice, and then shut it again. As much as he wanted to tell Lyle the truth of his scheme, he couldn't do it. There were just some things that men, even men who were madly in love and fucking like rabbits, didn't articulate to each other. As much as Lester wanted to tell Lyle how insecure he was now that he knew Lyle was getting something from Abby that Lester couldn't give him, he wasn't able to.
Looking into Lyle's eyes, Lester instead asked the question that had been niggling at his brain since his lover's admission to the affair. "Do you love her?"
"I love you."
"That isn't an answer," Lester whispered.
But it would have to do because Abby chose that moment to knock on the front door.
******
The evening hadn't gone anything at all like Abby had expected. Not that she'd really had any expectations beyond Lester telling her, in no uncertain terms, to stay the hell away from Jon. Which he hadn't done... yet.
Much to her surprise Lester was being exceedingly pleasant to her. Which was more than she could say for Jon. He'd answered the door when she'd knocked, giving her a curt greeting of, "Abby," whilst taking her jacket and, after hanging it up, had disappeared into the study, leaving her and Lester alone in the kitchen while her boss finished the cooking.
"Do you love him, Abby?"
She'd nearly choked on the carrot she was munching on. It wasn't anything she'd actively thought about. It was a dangerous path to head down when it was obvious, even when Jon was fucking her, that he loved and was in love with Lester. It was also obvious she was scratching an itch for Jon and Abby thought, if she didn't at least care about him, she would have put a stop to it the first time he'd come to her.
"I don't know, James," she replied, leaning back against the prep table that stood in the middle of the kitchen. "I could if I let myself. He does grow on one a bit, doesn't he?"
"Like a fungus," Lester muttered but his brown eyes shone with good humor as he turned to her and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for being honest."
Over a delicious dinner of baked chicken breast and vegetables, they had chatted amiably about music, books, film, his kids, her reptiles. Lester surprised her by admitting to a fondness for punk rock and she'd amused him with her extensive knowledge of the boy bands of the nineties. Jon had barely spoken as they sat round the table. He was seemingly more interested in seeing how fast he could pour a bottle of wine down his throat whilst staring daggers at her and Lester, his face holding a stormy expression that owed as much to hurt as it did to anger.
The storm finally broke when Lester suggested they all retire to the living room for a cup of tea.
"I'm going out," Jon said, standing so suddenly he knocked his chair over. He was halfway across the room before Lester recovered enough to find his voice.
"Lyle," he said with a calmness that amazed Abby. "You're being rude to our guest."
"Your fucking guest, Lester, not mine," Jon retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at them. "I didn't invite her here."
"Didn't you?"
Jon flinched as if he'd been struck, though Lester's words held no emotion other than curiosity. Abby knew then that this night wasn't about fighting over Lyle or about chastising anyone for the affair. He just wanted to understand why the affair had happened in the first place and Abby, at that moment, knew she could help him. Maybe she could help Jon understand it, too.
"James," she said, sliding a hand across the table to rest on one of his, letting the look she gave him ask the question.
The nod he gave her was all the permission she needed. She stood up, turning to Jon, but he only had eyes for Lester.
"Jon, look at me."
******
Lyle closed his eyes against Abby's soft command. He would not look at her because, if he did, he would fall into her arms and fall apart and he wouldn't allow himself to do that in front of Lester. That fear of falling apart in front of his lover was why Lyle had gone to Abby that first time and all the times after. Now he was stuck in a vicious cycle he couldn't see any way out, running the risk of ruining the best thing he'd ever had.
A subtle shift in the air told him Abby was now standing in front of him and, even with his eyes closed, his well-honed reflexes spared him the embarrassment of jumping when she pressed the palm of her hand against his stubble-rough cheek.
"You have to tell him, Jon."
Those same military reflexes failed him because he didn't realize Lester had moved up behind him until he felt a strong arm come round his waist.
"I can't," Lyle protested weakly. "I can't."
Warm breath fluttered against his neck, making him shiver, as Lester whispered into his ear. "Then show me, Jon. Show me."
A smaller, softer, hand joined the harder one under his shirt and his stomach jerked convulsively as the fingers intertwined, the thumbs stroking his skin idly, shattering his resolve.
Lyle's eyes flew open as his own hands found their way into Abby's hair, gripping the short blonde strands tightly as he leaned down to kiss her, lips bruising hers as he demanded entrance. Her mouth opened under his with a gasp that he stifled with his tongue and he snaked an arm around her, under her buttocks, lifting her until she straddled his waist like she belonged there.
In fact, he was beginning to think she did.
******
Lester had never thought himself a voyeur - he rather much preferred to participate in sex thank you very much - and he'd never had the particular desire to see any of his lovers taken by or taking someone other than him. So he felt a little off-kilter and dizzy as he sat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom, stroking himself in time to Lyle's thrusts inside Abby's slick, wet pussy. Lyle's cock was glistening with her juices and Lester groaned as he imagined, in vivid detail, licking the thick organ clean with every upstroke.
It didn't help that Abby kept looking at Lester over Lyle's head as she rode him, blue eyes pleading with him. She'd come to screaming climax twice already, her legs spread out over the soldier's strong thighs, whimpering and writhing helplessly as Jon fucked her, his face buried in her breasts to stifle his own noises as he chased an orgasm that wouldn't come.
Lester could tell she was on the verge of tears, mentally and physically exhausted and, taking pity on her, he rose from the chair and walked, with shaking legs, to the bed where he sat, unheeded, next to his lover. He watched a bead of sweat, whether it was Abby's or Lyle's he wasn't sure, drip slowly down the side Lyle's face and his tongue flicked out, catching the salty fluid on the tip of his tongue before breathing into Lyle's ear.
"Let go, Jon," he commanded. "Just let go."
With a hoarse shout that made Lester's own throat hurt, Lyle did just that, thrusting once, twice more inside Abby before falling back helplessly on the bed, pulling Abby down with him to rest wearily against his chest. For several minutes, Lester and Jon stared in each other's eyes and, when Lyle gave him a tired grin, Lester finally took the breath he felt like he'd been holding for four days. It felt like being born again.
"You haven't come, yet, James."
Lester met Abby's own gaze as she reached to take his still stiff cock in hand, only to scowl at him as he scooted back out reach.
"No," he said, taking her waist in his hands and turning her, with Jon's help, onto her side with her back to him. "Just stay put. And tell me to stop if..."
Lester lie down behind her and slid up, drawing a squeal from her as his cock nestled between her arse cheeks.
"Oi," she exclaimed, wriggling quite unhelpfully. "Watch where you're putting that thing!"
"It's okay, Abby," Lyle said with a snort that earned him a glare from Lester. "He just wants to rub off on you."
Abby looked back at him over her shoulder and Lester did his best to give her puppy eyes. With a beatific smile, she said, "In that case..."
And then she wriggled again, pushing her arse back into him and all it took was three short strokes to send Lester over the edge with a shout he buried in her neck.
"Fuck," he said, when he could speak again without babbling. "Can we keep her, Jon?"
Series: Three for All
Characters: Lester/Lyle/Abby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Implied slash! Het! Threesome, yay! Oh, and frantic frottage. *blushes*
Summary: Lester, Abby, and Lyle have dinner and sort things out. Well, sorta. Okay, the only thing that happens is angst followed by dirty sex.
Disclaimer: Lyle belong to
fredbassett. I thank her for letting me play porny games with him. Abby & Lester are the property of Impossible Pictures.Authors Note: Thanks to
fredbassett again for being an awesome beta."What's all this then?" Lyle asked, looking curiously at Lester as the older man set the dining room table.
Lester had wondered when Lyle would pick up on the fact he was preparing dinner for three. Lyle had been studiously avoiding him since he'd got home from the ARC. Just like he'd been avoiding Lester ever since he'd shared the revelation of his affair with Abby. Lyle would slip out of the flat in the mornings, before Lester awoke, and not return until late at night, when he would conveniently fall asleep on the sofa while Lester lay miserable and alone in their bed.
Thanks to some prodding by Ryan - to whom Lester now owed a favor - Lyle had arrived home precisely at five, barely mumbling a hello to Lester before grabbing a beer and parking himself on the sofa, where he feigned watching F1 highlights on Sky Sports.
"We have a guest coming over for dinner," Lester said to the tabletop as he laid out the good silver. Lyle wasn't the only one good at avoidance.
"Who?" Lyle asked, suspicion evident in the tone of his voice. Lester took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever Lyle's reaction would be, and opened his mouth... only to be interrupted by the impeccably timed buzz of the intercom.
"That would be our guest," Lester said. Leaving the last of the silverware in its proper place, he walked around the table and to the door, where he hit the 'talk' button on the intercom. "Yes, Howard?"
"Miss Abby Maitland to see you and the Lieutenant, Sir James."
"Yes, thank you Howard. Please send her up."
"Of course, Sir James."
Lester turned from the intercom and nearly jumped out of his skin, finding himself faced with a visibly angry Special Forces soldier.
"What the fuck are you playing at?" Lyle demanded, eyes flashing dangerously. "Are you trying to punish me?"
Lester scoffed at that, even as he found himself backed against the wall.
"If this was about punishing you, Jon, I'd have thrown you out on your arse four days ago."
Lyle at least had the grace to blush. "Then what the hell is this about?"
Lester opened his mouth once, twice, and then shut it again. As much as he wanted to tell Lyle the truth of his scheme, he couldn't do it. There were just some things that men, even men who were madly in love and fucking like rabbits, didn't articulate to each other. As much as Lester wanted to tell Lyle how insecure he was now that he knew Lyle was getting something from Abby that Lester couldn't give him, he wasn't able to.
Looking into Lyle's eyes, Lester instead asked the question that had been niggling at his brain since his lover's admission to the affair. "Do you love her?"
"I love you."
"That isn't an answer," Lester whispered.
But it would have to do because Abby chose that moment to knock on the front door.
******
The evening hadn't gone anything at all like Abby had expected. Not that she'd really had any expectations beyond Lester telling her, in no uncertain terms, to stay the hell away from Jon. Which he hadn't done... yet.
Much to her surprise Lester was being exceedingly pleasant to her. Which was more than she could say for Jon. He'd answered the door when she'd knocked, giving her a curt greeting of, "Abby," whilst taking her jacket and, after hanging it up, had disappeared into the study, leaving her and Lester alone in the kitchen while her boss finished the cooking.
"Do you love him, Abby?"
She'd nearly choked on the carrot she was munching on. It wasn't anything she'd actively thought about. It was a dangerous path to head down when it was obvious, even when Jon was fucking her, that he loved and was in love with Lester. It was also obvious she was scratching an itch for Jon and Abby thought, if she didn't at least care about him, she would have put a stop to it the first time he'd come to her.
"I don't know, James," she replied, leaning back against the prep table that stood in the middle of the kitchen. "I could if I let myself. He does grow on one a bit, doesn't he?"
"Like a fungus," Lester muttered but his brown eyes shone with good humor as he turned to her and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for being honest."
Over a delicious dinner of baked chicken breast and vegetables, they had chatted amiably about music, books, film, his kids, her reptiles. Lester surprised her by admitting to a fondness for punk rock and she'd amused him with her extensive knowledge of the boy bands of the nineties. Jon had barely spoken as they sat round the table. He was seemingly more interested in seeing how fast he could pour a bottle of wine down his throat whilst staring daggers at her and Lester, his face holding a stormy expression that owed as much to hurt as it did to anger.
The storm finally broke when Lester suggested they all retire to the living room for a cup of tea.
"I'm going out," Jon said, standing so suddenly he knocked his chair over. He was halfway across the room before Lester recovered enough to find his voice.
"Lyle," he said with a calmness that amazed Abby. "You're being rude to our guest."
"Your fucking guest, Lester, not mine," Jon retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at them. "I didn't invite her here."
"Didn't you?"
Jon flinched as if he'd been struck, though Lester's words held no emotion other than curiosity. Abby knew then that this night wasn't about fighting over Lyle or about chastising anyone for the affair. He just wanted to understand why the affair had happened in the first place and Abby, at that moment, knew she could help him. Maybe she could help Jon understand it, too.
"James," she said, sliding a hand across the table to rest on one of his, letting the look she gave him ask the question.
The nod he gave her was all the permission she needed. She stood up, turning to Jon, but he only had eyes for Lester.
"Jon, look at me."
******
Lyle closed his eyes against Abby's soft command. He would not look at her because, if he did, he would fall into her arms and fall apart and he wouldn't allow himself to do that in front of Lester. That fear of falling apart in front of his lover was why Lyle had gone to Abby that first time and all the times after. Now he was stuck in a vicious cycle he couldn't see any way out, running the risk of ruining the best thing he'd ever had.
A subtle shift in the air told him Abby was now standing in front of him and, even with his eyes closed, his well-honed reflexes spared him the embarrassment of jumping when she pressed the palm of her hand against his stubble-rough cheek.
"You have to tell him, Jon."
Those same military reflexes failed him because he didn't realize Lester had moved up behind him until he felt a strong arm come round his waist.
"I can't," Lyle protested weakly. "I can't."
Warm breath fluttered against his neck, making him shiver, as Lester whispered into his ear. "Then show me, Jon. Show me."
A smaller, softer, hand joined the harder one under his shirt and his stomach jerked convulsively as the fingers intertwined, the thumbs stroking his skin idly, shattering his resolve.
Lyle's eyes flew open as his own hands found their way into Abby's hair, gripping the short blonde strands tightly as he leaned down to kiss her, lips bruising hers as he demanded entrance. Her mouth opened under his with a gasp that he stifled with his tongue and he snaked an arm around her, under her buttocks, lifting her until she straddled his waist like she belonged there.
In fact, he was beginning to think she did.
******
Lester had never thought himself a voyeur - he rather much preferred to participate in sex thank you very much - and he'd never had the particular desire to see any of his lovers taken by or taking someone other than him. So he felt a little off-kilter and dizzy as he sat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom, stroking himself in time to Lyle's thrusts inside Abby's slick, wet pussy. Lyle's cock was glistening with her juices and Lester groaned as he imagined, in vivid detail, licking the thick organ clean with every upstroke.
It didn't help that Abby kept looking at Lester over Lyle's head as she rode him, blue eyes pleading with him. She'd come to screaming climax twice already, her legs spread out over the soldier's strong thighs, whimpering and writhing helplessly as Jon fucked her, his face buried in her breasts to stifle his own noises as he chased an orgasm that wouldn't come.
Lester could tell she was on the verge of tears, mentally and physically exhausted and, taking pity on her, he rose from the chair and walked, with shaking legs, to the bed where he sat, unheeded, next to his lover. He watched a bead of sweat, whether it was Abby's or Lyle's he wasn't sure, drip slowly down the side Lyle's face and his tongue flicked out, catching the salty fluid on the tip of his tongue before breathing into Lyle's ear.
"Let go, Jon," he commanded. "Just let go."
With a hoarse shout that made Lester's own throat hurt, Lyle did just that, thrusting once, twice more inside Abby before falling back helplessly on the bed, pulling Abby down with him to rest wearily against his chest. For several minutes, Lester and Jon stared in each other's eyes and, when Lyle gave him a tired grin, Lester finally took the breath he felt like he'd been holding for four days. It felt like being born again.
"You haven't come, yet, James."
Lester met Abby's own gaze as she reached to take his still stiff cock in hand, only to scowl at him as he scooted back out reach.
"No," he said, taking her waist in his hands and turning her, with Jon's help, onto her side with her back to him. "Just stay put. And tell me to stop if..."
Lester lie down behind her and slid up, drawing a squeal from her as his cock nestled between her arse cheeks.
"Oi," she exclaimed, wriggling quite unhelpfully. "Watch where you're putting that thing!"
"It's okay, Abby," Lyle said with a snort that earned him a glare from Lester. "He just wants to rub off on you."
Abby looked back at him over her shoulder and Lester did his best to give her puppy eyes. With a beatific smile, she said, "In that case..."
And then she wriggled again, pushing her arse back into him and all it took was three short strokes to send Lester over the edge with a shout he buried in her neck.
"Fuck," he said, when he could speak again without babbling. "Can we keep her, Jon?"
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Ops, sorry? :)
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