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Diego’s been shot before. Once or twice; a graze and a near-miss.
So he’s been shot, sliced, stabbed. That one time with the katana, and that other time with the golf club. Hero-business isn’t exactly the fluff job their teenage press conferences made it seem to be.
None of it - none of it - stunned him more than the sight of Ben’s pale, shaking thighs, as he sits on Klaus’ dick.
Diego’s immediate thought is that it’ll never fit. He remembers thinking the same when he fucked Klaus though, and he’d fit just fine. He thinks he’ll probably think every time, no matter the brother he’s fucking.
Fuck---
Because he’s going to fuck Ben. Just as soon as Klaus is done.
He can see the taught, defined muscles of Klaus stomach jump and twitch, as he strains against the fucking tentacles . They’re snakes in the water, curling, and coiling; the slick, glossy skin standing in stark contrast to the milk-pale skin of Ben and Klaus both. There’s something particularly jarring about the sight of them, something decidedly unsettling, but Diego likes the gut-punch frisson that ripples his spine, every time they brush his ankle below the murky water.
He likes it. It’s---it’s the dirtybadwrong sensation Klaud kisses into him. It’s the slick, sleek degradation, the freedom in the filth. He likes it.
(God, but they are fucked up, all three of them. But they’re fucked up together, so it’s just fine.)
It had taken a bit of awkward maneuvering to get Ben properly in Klaus’ lap. Diego had finally given up on the both of them bickering and picked Ben up, nudging him to bend his knees and setting him down to straddle Klaus' thighs. Ben has his eyes closed tightly shut, and the play of his muscles, tensing in slow motion, is unbearably sweet , as he reaches blindly for Diego. And Diego’s there , can’t imagine being anywhere else.
(When they were little, and the world wasn’t so hard - it had always been Klaus and Ben. Diego...Diego couldn’t. He was Number Two, and he had responsibilities and he needed to practice, he needed to---- But Klaus and Ben always invited him along for whatever they got up too. Always. Hey Diego, we’re sneaking out to the public library, want to come? And hey Diego, the milkman said he could sneak us a cat, what do you think.
Diego usually had to spar with Luther and Allison, or practice blades with Father or one of his many tutors, or-or---or it was always something. But sometimes...sometimes he said yes. Sometimes he snuck out to the back gardens to see who could climb highest in the apple trees. And sometimes he snuck out, two blocks down, to eat street dogs with the change left behind by the newspaper boy. But as they grew older, those moments of yes grew fewer and far between until the offers to join were perfunctory at best, and saying yes anymore would have been unwelcomed anyway. Every time he didn’t say yes, every time he trailed behind Luther instead to the second-floor gym instead of hiding by the ponds to feed the koi fish bread crumbs - he regretted until Ben and Klaus stopped asking and Diego had no way back.
Then Ben died.
And Klaus left.
And Diego...never followed Luther to the second-floor gym again.
He steadied Ben, hand curling under his elbow. “Easy, easy,” he murmured, at every little hurt escaping Ben. He didn’t look hurt - he looked wrecked . He’d spent the better part of his morning with his greedy fingers up his own ass, Diego had known it from the first fucking touch, the way his body just opened right up. And because he’d left the drawer open when he stole Diego’s lube.
The words good boy curl themselves like cursive across his mind. Visualize the words. He can hardly stop. “C’ mon baby,” he says roughly, gravel in his voice from sinking so deep, the phantom press and push of Klaus and Bens hand on the back of his head burning right up his spine. “You can take more.” He can’t decide who looks closer to losing it- Ben or Klaus, both with their eyes closed, mouths open, chests heaving. Ben hasn’t even bottomed out yet, and Klaus looks close to tapping. Diego---Diego wants him to come so bad, selfishly yes, but also just to watch Klaus’ body snap, and give, and break . Swallowing on a dry throat, he holds Ben through it, eases him down. He moves a leg between Ben’s open thighs, where he's half seated over Klaus - something to lean on, something to brace. His bare toes bump a tentacle, where it’s lain across the steps. “You can take more, Benny.” He sucks in a breath and pushes, urging the tentacle deeper. “And so can Klaus.”
It sends off a chain reaction that links the three of them. Klaus gasps, body coiling. His hips drive upward, and Ben---
God - Ben .
Diego holds Ben against it, helps him take it and God , he does. He pushes back, all bold and brash, fingers balled to fists and pressed to Diego’s chest. He watches Ben’s face as Klaus crashes back to the stone steps, feels his body move to chase the feeling and from there---
Ben knows what to do.
(Diego taught him.)
And it’s fuckin’---it’s fucking phenomenal , to watch him find his rhythm. Watch the roll of his hips find that steady grind. Klaus is a mess, splashed across the steps, torn between watching Ben and holding his eyes tightly closed.
Diego sees it in all slow motion, caught up the molasses heat burning him up. Ben starts out fast and hard - eager and new. Diego thinks about all the time he’s had to steady him, slow him, a hand on his hip, on his ass. He reaches behind Ben, crushing him forward, chest against chest. “It ain’t a race, Benny.”
“It’s kind of a race,” Klaus reminds him, catching his gaze with a heated, heavy-lidded stare. He looks wrecked, pink mouth parted, and wet. “C’ mon, Gogo. Don’t fucking torture us. Didn’t you have a plan where we all get to come? I liked that part.”
And it’s---it’s---Klaus is all the hedony Diego ever wanted, all the obscenity and release. And he’s looking up at Diego with those bright eyes - and telling him to do it.
What it is - that’s up to Diego.
It’s a heady .
Klaus looks helpless. Diego’s---fucked up for the needy little look in his eye.
And Ben---
Ben’s right between them.
He kisses Ben - the wet and messy kind Klaus would never dare press upon his good boy. He takes a step back, down another step, and laughs when Ben chases his mouth, straining between him and Klaus. He pulls away as fast as he pushed, taking Klaus hard and deep and choking moans from both of them. “Ride em’ baby,” Diego says roughly, carelessly, putting a hand in Ben’s hair and pulling. Ben likes it, it’s a learned behavior - but Klaus would never dare.
Ben groans, pulling against his fingers, and Diego watches over his shoulder, Klaus’ teeth bared and clenched. With his other hand on Ben’s waist, he moves him, a rolling wave, up and down Klaus cock. He pushes and pulls Ben between the hand tangled in his hair, and the one bruising his hips.
“Fuck---” Klaus chokes, and Diego watches his fingers curl into fists, forearms straining against the tentacles. But they’re relentless, they’re unmoving, except for the one Diego nudges a little further, just to watch Klaus cry out. “ Gogo . Diego---Please .”
Diego can only smile though - can only smirk. He pulls Benny’s head to the side, exposing that long, pale neck of his and he bites . The chain grows a little tighter between them - Ben’s whole body clenches and Klaus---Klaus sobs . Diego pushes them faster, driving sweet, shocked little grunts from Ben’s open mouth every time his ass meets Klaus straining hips. Diego drags his teeth up Ben’s throat, and Klaus----
Klaus whole body coils, Diego can see it, the way his spine curls him up straight off the steps. He’s rapt, eyes chasing the move of Ben’s hips and the way Diego’s teeth look set against Ben’s neck. Ben’s panting, shaking, and Diego only holds him tighter when his arms reach up to wrap around Diego’s shoulders. The new weight pulls Diego closer, dropping Ben harder on Klaus, who is watching now, the way his dick disappears and yeah - Diego gets it.
“Fuck---Fuck---” Klaus cries, his body a bowstring, shaking up and down. “Benny---Benny---”
Benny’s barely there - he’s happy to let Diego do the work, and Diego is just fine with that. All Diego can see is Klaus, broken down to the roll of Ben’s hips, set to Diego’s pace. He can’t move, he can’t help, he can’ take control. “He says your name,” Diego says, with a filthy smirk. There’s heat in his voice and in his cheeks, a little element of shame that only makes him harder. “When I’d have him over the counter, three fingers up his ass. I’d make him ride them just like this, and he’d say your name .”
Diego had known from the very start - Klaus would have Ben first. It was an unspoken truth, right up until Ben put it to words, and Klaus put Diego to work. Diego’s known he would be Number Two from the very start and it’s exactly where he wants to be.
He wants to come second, for the first time in his life.
“This your good boy , Klaus?” He pulls Ben’s head to the side and licks a wet, hot strip up Ben’s cheek. It’s a knee-jerk, the way Ben’s body twists and jerks and loses Diego’s rhythm. “Look at him.” Diego leads Ben back until he’s flush against Klaus' chest and it’s the angle that does it. “He’s been real good to me.” Klaus sobs, as Diego pulls Bens hips up, rolling, grinding, stealing the breath out of both of them. He’s hard where his cock lays, riding the crest of Ben’s hip but he won’t come like this, no---
He’s gonna fuck Ben.
God- He’s gonna fuck Ben.
Ben .
(it’s the thought - it’s the thought that he’s about to fuck a second brother, but only after he’s done fucking a different brother. It’s that - and there’s the sensation of too much burning through his body, it’s too good, it’s too much. Diego fucking wants it.)
“I’m gonna bend him right over you and fuck your come back up his ass,” Diego says, meanly and it’s all he can fucking think about. It’s all he can fucking see . They don’t care- they don’t care , they want it too, the both of them. It’s hard to feel bad about the ways you’re fucked up, when it looks so fucking good. That first push, the feel of it - Klaus comes a lot, and Diego wants to fucking feel it. God - he wants--- He wants--- “Fuck, Klaus. Let me have him .”
Let me.
Let me.
Let me .
It might have been enough - Klaus has to know how close Diego is to breaking. He likes to hear Diego beg, he likes to watch him fall apart. It might have been enough, but Diego won’t take credit. Ben’s fingers are curled over his own calves, body bent backward, hips rising and falling. He’s hard, leaking sticky wet across his own belly as the black water splashes in ripples around Klaus' legs. Diego wants very badly to take pity on him, make him come, he’s good at it - but no. Not yet. “Please,” he says and Diego knows - that’s Klaus weakness. That’s his line. There’s nothing he won’t give Ben. Nothing at all. “Please---Please---I want---”
Klaus comes, lip caught between his teeth and Diego can’t---Diego can’t even think straight. The gasp that echoes off the high ceilings could belong to any of them, but in this moment - where they’re tangled and messy - it belongs to all of them. Every breath that escapes Ben, belongs to Diego, and every cry that escapes Klaus, belongs to Ben. Watching Klaus come apart is such a visceral thing, such a tangible moment and for a brief, crippling instant- Diego’s certain can feel everything Klaus feels.
The tentacles tell the time - they slip away to curl and coil on the surface of the water as soon as Klaus’ body goes lax against the steps. He’s a panting, heaving mess, mouth bitten, and arms limp. Ben though - Ben’s pulled taught, holding himself very still and Diego knows - Diego knows he has to be dripping----
“Shit---I---I---I---” And he’s stuttering, God, he’s stuttering but it doesn’t matter because the fucking---The fucking tentacles are moving, turning and pulling and tugging Ben around. “ Fuck .”
Surprisingly accommodating, the tentacles. They put Ben exactly how Diego needs him.
When he doesn’t move right away, when Klaus' hands come up to frame Ben’s narrow hips, and the tentacles find their home on the curves of the wet steps, surprisingly content to bask and be - Ben looks at him over his faintly freckled shoulder.
Diego is struck . He wipes a hand over his mouth, takes a minute to get his shit together because---
Shit .
Ben looks wrecked from head to toe - the thick black blood courtesy of the tentacles, froths against the steps, staining his pale legs. Klaus' fingers bite little red crescents into his hips. His eyes are wild, and his hair a mess, and Klaus come’ is dripping in milky little rivets from his pink, wrecked---
“C’ mon,” Ben wheezes, rocking back against absolutely nothing, and Diego chokes against his own palm. “I didn’t---I didn’t--- ”
Diego puts his hands on him. Puts his hands right above Klaus, lets their fingers brush. “You did so good,” he tells Ben, rough and wrecked. It doesn’t come to him so smoothly, this type of talk. Not like Klaus, who sounds so natural when he’s calling Benny Baby when he’s calling him good. “Little more, Benny. You know I’ll take care of you.”
It’s Klaus who makes a noise at that, a broken, choked cry. His fingers spasm, where they bite into Ben and God---Diego wants to fuck him too.
Greedy , he thinks. Selfish .
Ben and Klaus don’t mind though, Diego thinks.
He’s been thinking about them since that day - since the day he slipped into the smallest bathroom on the third floor and found Klaus and Ben wrapped up in each other. He felt himself go hard so fast, he’d swayed on his feet - dizzy at the sight of them, at his own horrific response.
Funny now - he’s still dizzy, still so hard he can’t feel anything else. But this time - it just feels good. He did not think, when he stood there, eyes caught on the line of spit connecting Ben’s mouth to Klaus, he did not think one day he’d fuck them both.
It’s good.
It’s better than good.
Ben, all slippery and slutty , braced against Klaus. He’s pretty. They’re both pretty. Klaus looks dangerous, Ben looks soft. Diego’s not pretty. Diego’s scarred, and dark. But they let him touch them. They let him have them. They want him, want to pull him right into their little world - into their pocket. And all Diego wants right now is to get inside the both of them. He can’t handle the sight of Klaus come, sloppy sticky, smearing down Ben’s ass and thighs. He can’t fucking- stand it --he reaches out, pushes two easy fingers in, and the new rush of come is viscerally gratifying, spilling between his knuckles. Ben gives so easy, driving back, greedy and needy and Diego---Diego’s not gonna fucking make it. He’s not.
Ben spreads his legs. He knows what Diego wants by now, without Diego ever needing to ask. They’ve been here, metaphorically. They’ve done this. And God- he knows what Diego wants before Diego even knows. Diego wants to put his mouth on him, wants to lick him clean, steal every little last bit of Klaus. But no---Bigger things in mind.
Taking himself in hand is unbearable, but Diego does, shaking all over and sure he’ll come with the first press. He pushes in, feels that sleek, slick pop, and Ben gasps, elbows buckling. Klaus is there, hushing and shushing him and Diego---
Diego fucks right in - fast and hard. Klaus is bigger, Ben’s all easy give and soft now and Diego fits . Diego fits like he was certain he never could.
He’s mindful that Ben’s gotta be a little tender, a little sore - but it’s hard not to just take him. Have him. Throw him down right on Klaus and fuck him raw. God, but Diego can hardly stand the sudden, sticky rush of Klaus’ come dripping down his balls. It’s---filthy. It’s violently filthy, and he can taste it like blood on the back of his throat, he can fucking taste the obscenity , the disgrace.
It rolls through him, curling his spine on a sharp, shocking thrust. Ben gasps, crashing down against Klaus but it doesn’t stop him, no - not at all. Diego gets his hands up under Ben’s hips and lifts him to meet his thrust. The inky water splashes, spilling up over the pool edge to bleed out across the floors. The tentacles, they creep, curling constrictors making their way up Diego’s calves. They must sense his apprehension, or perhaps Ben does - they creep n further. Klaus is there, kissing sweetly at Ben’s mouth, lean, knobby fingers tangled in his birdnest hair. He catches Diego’s eye, and Diego bares his teeth, animal to animal.
Klaus---Klaus smiles, and Diego wants so bad to feel that feral.
He fucks Ben like he might find the feeling in him. He thinks - Diego really fucking thinks...he just might.
Ben winds his arms around Klaus' neck and Klaus lets his own slip and wanders downward and downward, following the yellow brick road of Ben’s spine until he’s gripping Ben’s ass, spreading him wide and shit , Diego thinks. Shit goddamn .
Klaus pulls Ben down - away from Diego, and the resistance against his own strength his strange, bleeding through his veins thick and violent. Diego lifts Ben’s hips again, harder this time, his own slapping loud against Klaus' knuckles as he bottoms out and Klaus is there, pulling Ben away ---
It’s not give and take, not at all. It’s---tug of war, maybe. It’s a fight, and something wild bites his heels as Ben calls out, the curl of his spine curved like a question mark at the end of a question that begins and ends with more .
“I think Benny needs to come,” Klaus says, and there’s an edge to his voice that tells Diego he is not unaffected by five-feet nine-inches of lean, squirming body riding up against him....or the fucking tentacles. “Benny, baby - you want it faster?” Even as he asks, he’s driving Ben harder, forcing Diego to catch up or fuck up. “You want it harder?”
“Please,” Ben cries, throwing a hand out behind Klaus, to catch his fingers over the edge of the stone steps. “Fuck---Please.”
“C’mon, Gogo.” Klaus rolls his body beneath Ben, even as he pulls Ben against himself. “Don’t make him beg.”
(Diego likes it when Ben begs. He’s real pretty about it, and real fucking rude. It’s hard to look sweet while you’re fucking yourself back on half a high-five, but Ben had somehow perfected it.)
He’s mindful that Ben must be tender, again, but it’s hard. It’s hard . He wants to bottom out and stay there, live there - but there’s Klaus, dragging his tongue up a line of slick, black blood where it paints Ben’s cheek and Diego’s hips stutter.
“Fuckin’----touch him,” he manages, through gritted teeth. Ben’s skinny little hips rabbit back and forth, for all that Diego’s doing his best to keep him in place. Klaus gets his hand in the water and Diego feels it when Klaus touches Ben. He feels the fierce, flutter of Ben’s body, clenching hard just as Diego sinks deep and he feels the ricochet, the shots-fired ferocity of his orgasm and with one exhale, Diego’s gutted by the suddenness of his own. He pulls out even as he’s coming, watches splashes of pearly come stain Ben’s bright pink ass and it’s--- a high sob escapes him, burnt up by delirium, pleasure so fierce it stops your heart and he’s still coming, the last few spurts weak, but desperate on the sight of Ben and Klaus in a sticky, heaving tangle.
He sinks to his knees on the last step, unsure where his own slick skin begins and ends against the slide of theirs. At the moment - they breathe and heave as one.
Ben’s only half-conscience, bleary eyes blinking shut. Diego kisses Klaus because Klaus is there and it’s sweet and wet and taste of hot copper, and salt.
“You did good,” he tells Diego after a long quiet, and his voice is cotton candy soft, and almost as sweet. “Great job fucking your brother.”
“I’ve had some practice.” He keeps his voice mild, even though his mouth is close enough to kiss Klaus jaw.
“Ah yes. I suppose, when it comes to dicking your siblings, only Luther has you beat.” He says it with a grin, but there’s a furl to his brow that Diego reads on instinct.
“That’s the life of Number Two.” And it doesn’t seem so bad, right here, right now. “Besides, I have twice the opportunity to catch up.”
Klaus hums, hands petting lightly at Ben’s sides. “Three times the chance, if you count me fucking you .”