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Willy’s buzzing with anticipation.
All he can hear in his head is the replay of Kyle’s voice, a rough little whisper right up against his ear, a quick stolen moment when he kissed him goodbye this morning before he’d left for skate.
“Remember what we talked about it last Friday? Be good and Daddy’ll have a surprise for you.”
Willy inhales sharply, and before he can turn and ask Kyle to clarify, he’s gone, already making his way to the press box.
*
Kyle calls him to his office and Willy ignores the chorus of “ooohs” around the locker room, knowing fully well that he is not in trouble and should in fact be more embarrassed about what’s actually going to go down. So he keeps his face neutral, lest he let himself blush, and eagerly makes his way to Kyle’s office.
There’s no hesitation, for the minute he gets through the door, Kyle’s pushing him against it, slamming it shut while he presses up against him and kisses him hard and fast.
“Daddy,” Willy says in a breath, feels it fall from his lips freely, familiar. Like something he’s been holding in and is all too relieved to exhale.
Kyle doesn’t stop for a second, but he manages to walk them over to his desk, manages to get Willy propped up on its pristine surface. His fingers are quick to undo the buttons on Willy’s shirt, quick to undo his belt. He undresses him so quickly, desperately, and Willy feels himself get hot all over.
Willy melts into each and every touch, skin hot under Kyle’s touches. He whines, high and loud and uninhibited.
There’s a knock at the door.
Willy startles as the handle begins to turn, as the door begins to open and someone starts to walk in. He’s about to get up, to scramble for clothes, to start rambling off thin excuses and apologies. But Kyle is there, calm and collected as ever, and already shushing him, placating.
“It’s okay, baby,” Kyle says, hands pressing down on Willy’s shoulders to keep him steady, to reassure him. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles, massaging into his neck. “It’s just John, he’s here to play with us. He wants to see you be a good boy. Do you think you want to show John that you can be a good boy?”
Willy’s eyes go wide, immediately tries to turn to look at John. But Kyle catches him, holds his cheek in one big palm. He keeps eye contact with him, until Willy forgets that there’s anyone else in the room.
Suddenly, Willy remembers exactly what they talked about last Friday.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, but he blinks at Kyle, swallows, and nods. “I can,” he starts, the stops, building his courage up. “I can show Johnny that I’m a good boy.”
“Good, baby, Daddy’s very happy,” Kyle coos at him. “I told John about our color system. You know it?”
Willy nods vigorously, even as it means leaning into Kyle’s palm. “Green is good, yellow means pause and talk, red means stop and end scene.”
Kyle rubs at his cheek gently. “Very good, baby.” Then, looking over Willy’s shoulder, “That sound good, Tavares?”
Willy doesn’t look, because Kyle’s still holding him steady, but he hears John clear his throat, and then his familiar voice, just edged in a little bit of breathlessness, affirm, “Got it, sounds good.”
Finally, Kyle’s hand drops and Willy takes it as permission, twists until he can look over his shoulder and really look at John. He’s still in his gameday suit, but he’s loosened his tie and hung up his jacket. He’s in the middle of popping open his top buttons. Willy watches John watch him, watches him eye him up, stare at his lips where they must be bitten red, wet and swollen.
Willy knows the look, knows he’s to be absolutely devoured. He inhales, sharp and too fast, at the thought.
Kyle must know what he’s thinking. He threads a hand in Willy’s hair, scratches at his scalp. A reminder of his presence, a reminder to be good.
Willy realizes that this as much a show they’re putting on for John as it something for them. So he blinks a couple of times until he can put on his best coy smile and look up at John through his lashes.
“Hi, Johnny,” he singsongs, sweet.
“Fuck,” is all John manages to sweat out.
*
It’s kind of a blur, how exactly they get to this point. The point where Willy’s laid out, strewn across Kyle’s big desk like an offering, naked and bare for Kyle and John to ogle and touch and utterly use.
John’s fucking into him, steady and strong, but paced, calculated. It’s hard and firm, but not yet quite rough enough. Not yet quite the way Willy wants it. But it’s not his position to say so yet. Kyle is watching, closely so, and if he hasn’t redirected John yet then it’s fully deliberate.
Kyle is, after all, still fully clothed. Albeit, he’s hung up his suit jacket, loosened his tie and popped open the first button. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, but it’s all still there. A statement. Powerful.
He looks at Willy with a certain kind of hunger, looks at John with expectation.
John doesn’t disappoint him, continues to drag his wet dick in and out of Willy, a relenting pressure that slams into him over and over and over again.
Willy writhes, overwhelmed with the attention.
“Daddy, Daddy,” Willy whines like a mantra, face turned to hide in his arm. “I want Daddy.”
And Kyle’s there in a second, Willy can feel his presence before he feels him physically. He leans into him immediately, inhales sharply.
“Color, baby, give me a color,” Kyle says, quiet for just Willy to hear.
Willy takes a deep breath first, and almost feels bad because Kyle almost stops it right there, is about to, even, but Willy speaks up, as best as he can. “Green, green, green,” he assures him, says it again just to make sure his point gets across. “Green, Daddy.”
He feels Kyle relax where he’s touching him, hears the faint breath he lets out in relief. But then his hands grip harder and he’s pressed up to Willy’s ear again, held tightly against him.
“Such a good boy for Daddy, taking it so good. That’s my good baby, a good little slut. Listens to Daddy so good.”
“Wanna be good,” Willy manages, murmured.
“Fuck,” John says from where he’s still steadily fucking into Willy, hands curled around his hips in a grip that’ll most definitely leave bruises.
He feels the drag of John’s dick pull at his rim, feels his hardness fill him and push at his walls. Willy feels himself automatically clench around him, tight and firm, when John hits him just right. When John gets the head to spear him right on his prostate, brushing over it for good measure as he drags it back out.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Willy lets out, punched out in time with John’s thrusts. He throws his head back, just to be met with Kyle, who holds his head in his lap with his hands cupped on either side.
He leans down until he can kiss him, upside down, more reassuring than anything. “Daddy’s here,” Kyle whispers over his lips. “Daddy’s getting so hard watching you get fucked. You’re so fucking hot, baby.”
Willy preens, Kyle’s words filling his head and going straight to his groin. He milks on John as a result, really grinds his ass back into it.
John swears under his breath, meets him and pushes so deeply inside of him that Willy can really feel it low in his belly. Kyle picks up on it, too, because he drags a hand down, brushes over Willy’s chest, his nipples, until it rests over his belly.
“If I press hard enough I be it I could feel John inside of you, owning you, putting you in your place, yeah?” Kyle keeps going. And it’s not just for Willy, because he spares a glance at John and grins when he sees his reaction. Willy is too preoccupied to see for himself, but he knows how Kyle is, can read him well enough.
“He’s so big, Daddy,” Willy agrees. Then, cheeky, peers at John. “Daddy, Daddy, please, can I come on Johnny’s big cock? Please Daddy, I wanna come.”
He’s satisfied when John throws his head back, gets a little bit rougher with his hips.
Kyle, however, tuts and flicks one of Willy’s nipples. “You come when I say so.”
“Be good, Willy,” John offers up, and it sounds choked.
“I
am
good,” Willy says, to the both of them. “Please, please, please, lemme come.”
Kyle hums, considering. He stretches a palm loosely around Willy’s throat, barely any pressure, but the move is charged enough on its own. “Take care of Johnny here first, slut.”
Willy focuses his breathing, then nods, even around Kyle’s hand. “You fill me up so good, Johnny,” Willy turns up the charm to a thousand. “Fuck me like a whore.”
“Fuck,” John says on an inhale. “Damn right, bitch.”
Willy sees Kyle send him a silent look, and John, to his credit, doesn’t show much of a change in his action, but Willy sneaks enough of a peak to see his silent apology to Kyle.
“You’re so good, take cock so good,” John murmurs, making up for his slip. Willy fells Kyle stroke a hand through his hair, grounding. He leans into the touch. He looks up at Kyle, assesses him, and decides to be a little cheeky.
“My Daddy’s mad at you,” Willy says, bratty. “But he’s still gonna let you come inside of me,” Willy pauses, meets Kyle’s disapproving face. “He likes it too much to stay mad. Right, Daddy?”
“You’re gonna get punished for that,” Kyle murmurs, low and mean. It goes straight to Willy’s dick, he feels himself twitch.
“Mean Daddy,” Willy accuses without any heat. He closes his eyes and lets the thought of Kyle’s possible punishments wash over him. It gets him even hotter.
“Be good,” is all John says, choosing to focus on fucking into him rather than getting in the middle of their mind game. Smart choice.
“I don’t know where I got such a brat,” Kyle bites, puts a little more pressure on Willy’s throat. “Needs that attitude fucked out of him.”
“Working on it,” John says dutifully, emphasizes it with a particularly well-aimed thrust.
Without warming, Kyle’s hand moves off of Willy’s neck and down his chest. Willy isn’t sure what he’s doing until Kyle’s already twisting one of his nipples, harsh, forcing him to react and clench tightly around John.
“Oh shit, holy shit,” John says, grinding deep, deep into Willy, forcing his dick as far in as it’ll go. His balls are smushed hot against Willy’s skin, the overall feeling more than intense.
“Don’t you dare fucking come,” and that’s Kyle, leaned over him until he can crow it right up against his ear. That alone sends jolts down Willy’s spine, but despite his brattiness, he knows better, knows at the root to be good.
It’s trying, when he hears John groan from between his thighs, probably pushed over by the sight of them. He’s coming, hot, deep inside of him and he can feel it, feel it fill him up and spill out his hole, around John’s cock.
“Daddy, Daddy, please, oh my god, please,” Willy keens, restless, as he feels John pull out, pulling at his hypersensitive rim, his insides still wet and buzzing with want.
But Kyle shakes his head. “Thank John for fucking you.”
“Daddy!”
“I said
thank. John.”
Willy screws his eyes shut and swallows. When he’s ready, he manages to prop himself up on his elbows, just enough so he can properly look at John, who’s already cleaned himself up and begun to redress. “Johnny, Johnny,” Willy starts.
John looks up at him, neutral but expectant.
“Thank you for fucking me,” he starts, but then Kyle pinches him on the arm and he looks up at him, just a little annoyed.
“You can do better than that,” Kyle scolds.
Willy huffs, but he continues. “Thank you for fucking me like a slut, I hope I was a good slut for you, Johnny. My Daddy loves it when hot men fuck me with their big cocks. You made my Daddy very happy. He’s going to fuck me so good, Johnny. So thank you.” He throws in one of his little smiles, blinks up through his lashes, just for good measure. Then he looks to Kyle, just as sweetly.
“Hm,” Kyle shrugs, face neutral, but Willy can see the fire in his eyes. “That’ll suffice.” Then he looks to John, who is now fully dressed.
John clears his throat. “You’re welcome, Willy. Be a good boy for your daddy. Don’t be bratty.”
“‘m not,” Willy fires back automatically, but then he bows his head politely. “Okay, I promise I’ll be good for Daddy.”
There’s a hand pulling his chin back up and up, then, all the way until Willy’s looking right at Kyle, hovering above him. He’s taken off his glasses at some point, and it’s so much more intense when Kyle’s looking at him like this, uninhibited.
The door opens and closes, but neither of them look.
“Daddy…” Willy finally breaks first, quiet, barely a whisper.
That seems to be all it takes, because Kyle’s eyes go dark. “Get on your hands and knees. Now.”
Willy blinks, stares while it processes. He starts to move but it must not be quickly enough, because Kyle tuts and slaps his ass. It sounds harsher than it feels but it snaps Willy into it, sends him into a scramble to get into position.
Kyle’s hands are on him immediately, spread over the curve of his ass and pulling his cheeks apart. He feels the air over his hole, knows it’s gaping open and leaking, probably red and swollen. Kyle’s made him look with a mirror once, just so he’d know exactly what he looks like, exactly what the sight of him does to Kyle, every time they do this.
“Little whore for me,” Kyle murmurs. “Used and leaking, fucking slut.” He slaps him again, the other side this time. Willy can’t help but flinch a little, but he arches his back, offers himself back up right away.
Kyle doesn’t spank him again, chooses to rub gently over the reddening spot, instead. He does that for a minute, gradually getting closer and closer to Willy’s hole. Close enough until he can slip a thumb around the rim, dipping in teasingly.
Willy’s dick twitches where it’s still painfully hard. It’s calmed a bit since John left, but it’s still wet and leaking, bouncing enticingly. Kyle must think so because he doesn’t hesitate and flicking the tip, laughing meanly when Willy keens.
“Daddy, please,” Willy whines. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not mean, baby boy,” Kyle hums, amused. “You’re just so cute to mess with.”
Willy makes a face, pouty.
“Oh, hush, baby,” Kyle tuts. “Come on, you want Daddy to fuck you now?”
But Willy, petulant, turns up his nose. “Maybe I don’t need Daddy to fuck me.” He folds his arms and rests his head in them. His ass is still upturned and presented for Kyle, but that’s neither here nor there. “Maybe I’ll just go home and get myself off.”
Kyle knows him well enough to see right through him, so he replies by smacking him, twice in quick succession. “Just for that, I’m not letting you come until I do.”
Willy preens, stretches his back into even more of an impossible arch. He knows what he looks like, isn’t surprised when Kyle grabs him and tugs him back until he’s just about pressed right into him.
There’s some shuffling, and then there’s the familiar feeling of Kyle’s dick, hot and hard, the head of it smeared over his crack, catching on his open hole.
Willy lets out a strangled breath, swears he can see Kyle’s triumphant grin without even looking,
“Don’t be a brat, let Daddy fuck you the way you need. Daddy knows exactly what you need, how you need it.”
Willy knows it’s true, but it takes all of his willpower to flush out the defiance and be good. He manages, then nods.
Kyle is waiting for it, doesn’t waste a second before shoving into him. He fits easily, Willy long stretched open and slick wet with John’s come. He’s not as big as John, but he’s much more familiar, much more
right.
He knows Willy, knows his body, and e fucks into him methodically. With purpose.
In fact. “Daddy I have to come, you gotta let me come.”
“No,” is all Kyle says, fucks his cockhead right over Willy’s prostate just to be extra mean.
“
Daddy.
”
“You heard me,” Kyle does it again, but this time pinches the soft skin on Willy’s thigh. “Behave.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Willy says all at once, muffled into his arms.
But then Kyle’s hand is in his hair, yanks his head back harshly with the grip.
“Beg for it.”
Willy can’t help it, he moans, genuine and loud. “Daddy, I want your come inside of me. I want to feel you.”
“Oh?”
“Please, I want to feel like I’m all yours. Daddy, please, please.”
“Yeah? Want me to own you? Remind you who you belong to?” And Kyle’s getting more erratic, losing himself little by little. Willy feels just a little triumphant, but that much more desperate for it. He dick pangs with want.
“Own me, Daddy, make me all yours again.”
It’s enough for Kyle, who grunts, low and throaty, and shoves himself all the way in. For the second time that night, Willy feels himself filled with hot come, marked and used and filthy.
Kyle slips a thumb around his rim, pushes it in despite the pull, all while he’s still coming. It’s a lot, it’s an overwhelming tug that Willy wasn’t expecting.
It’s enough to send him over the edge, for him to come without asking permission, without any proper touch on his dick.
He comes on Kyle’s cock untouched. Naughty.
Willy’s still panting, head still floating and not quite processing correctly just yet. But then Kyle’s dragging his dick out, and his hands are at his hips, flipping him none too nicely. He lands on his back, uncomfortable on the hard surface of the desk, peering up at Kyle and just a little come dumb.
“You didn’t wait for my permission,” Kyle accuses him.
Willy blinks up sweetly, strategy slowly starting to come back to him. “I waited for Daddy to come first,” he reasons.
Kyle huffs, gives him one more mean look, but then he’s leaning over him and kissing him desperately, a lot more words loaded into it than any he could say.
“I’ll punish you later,” Kyle says, breathless, against his lips when he finally stops for air.
Willy laughs, knows the promise is far from empty, but it’s almost sweet, in their own special brand of weird and twisted but belonging nonetheless.
“Good,” Willy grins up at him, shit-eating. “Can’t wait.”