Archive of Our Own ^beta

These clothes touched him, are soaked with him—two things Al had wanted for himself for longer than he cared to admit.

He eyes the rivulet of sweat enviously—the one winding its way down James’s neck, forging the same path that Al would beg to be allowed to nip and suck. 

It dips into the hollow of his collarbone—just as Al’s tongue would gladly do if granted permission. 

It continues down his chest, over his strong pecs and dangerously defined abdominals, before tricking over his hip bone where it juts out—right above his cock, half-hard and glistening as well.

Maybe he could make it glisten with spit instead of sweat, Al thinks to himself, watching the droplet get lost at the crease of his muscular thigh.

“Fucking hell, Jamie.”

Had he spoken? Quickly taking stock of the position he maintains hidden around the corner in the corridor leading to the kitchens, he looks up to see—

“Hey, Ted,” James says with a sheepish grin, clearly catching the meaning behind Teddy’s groaned words. “It was just so hot, I really shouldn’t have even gone for my run. Though I don’t think Coach would really care if my clothes are soaked through, as long as I stay in good shape— shit, Teddy!”

James cuts off with a moan as Al takes in the sight of their godbrother on his knees in front of James, his lips stretched around his cock.

A hand flies to grip Teddy’s blue locks, pulling slightly to elicit a filthy muffled moan from the older boy.

Al fights the urge to move his hand to the bulge in his own shorts, his very last brain cell devoted to logic realizing that wanking and coming in his pants not even twenty feet away from the other two boys would be a decidedly poor move.

His hips still jerk slightly in need, his eyes laser focused on Teddy’s mouth as it laps up all of the droplets that had been rightfully Al’s.

“Do you want me to, Jamie?”

Teddy has pulled off of James’s cock, stroking him with a hand as he looks up at him from under his lashes, a look of mischievous delight on his handsome features.

“Teddy,” he whines, trying to chase his godbrother’s mouth as he thrusts helplessly.

“Yes or no.”

“Ah, fuck, Teddy!” A pause. “Please.”

The older boy withdraws his hand, a look of concentration on his face before his hair darkens, his legs and torso become slightly shorter, and he reopens his eyes—staring up at James with a lust-filled emerald gaze.

“Hi, Jamie.”

Al’s heart nearly stops as he looks on in horrified fascination at the near perfect replica of himself kneeling on the floor in front of James, reaching out eagerly for his cock.

Al watches his own tongue dart out to lick up the underside of James’s shaft, swirling around the head teasingly as James’s hands find his—Teddy’s—he doesn’t fucking know—unruly hair.

“How do you think your little brother would feel,” Teddy starts in Al’s haughty drawl, “knowing that his own flesh and blood fantasizes about fucking his pretty mouth?”

James whines as he bucks his hips into Teddy’s face, Al watching his cheeks hollow around James’s cock as he takes in almost his full length.

Teddy releases him with a pop, and his long fingers trail up and down James’s throbbing prick gingerly as his next words land.

“Do you ever wonder if he thinks about the very same thing?”