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Nie Mingjue showed up for their date on Saturday driving The Car.
It was shiny and black and every joke that had ever been made about penis extensions and overcompensating, and only missed the ones about mid-life crises because Nie Mingjue was barely eighteen years old. And, while Meng Yao had not yet had the opportunity for more direct observation than a significant bulge pressing against him through two sets of clothing, he was very confident that neither Nie Mingjue nor Lan Xichen needed to compensate for anything. (Obtaining an opportunity for direct observation was very, very high on Meng Yao's current list of priorities.)
Meng Yao didn't know where the two of them got off rolling up with their arms in those shirts and their faces. Lan Xichen especially; it was grossly unfair and the most fantastic injustice of Meng Yao's entire fucking life. He got out of the car so Meng Yao could take the middle (it was a classic car; there were bench seats), and Meng Yao was legally obligated to pin him against the side for a hello kiss when he, like the gentleman he was, went to hand Meng Yao in.
Lan Xichen was far too amenable to being pinned, and, gentleman or not, with Meng Yao's tongue down his throat his hands strayed to Meng Yao's ass. Was it really too much to ask for Lan Xichen to just pick him up and fuck him over the trunk? So what if they were on a public street? Meng Yao defied any human being with a sex drive to call the sight of Lan Xichen in the throes of passion indecent.
"Hello," Lan Xichen told him, smiling foolishly.
"Hi." Meng Yao could tell his own face was doing something equally stupid.
Reluctantly, he unpeeled himself from Lan Xichen after another kiss or three and let himself be ushered in. On the driver's side, Nie Mingjue turned to give him a hot look up and down. "You two don't mind me; I'm just the chauffeur."
Meng Yao dropped the seatbelt without buckling it and slid over the rest of the way to thread his fingers through Nie Mingjue's hair and kiss him hot and wet and messy, until climbing into his lap started seeming like a good idea. He was wearing that sweater of his that probably cost more than everything Meng Yao owned, but was absolutely worth it for the way it made Meng Yao want to strip down and rub his naked body against it like a cat.
There was a puff of breath at the back of his neck, followed by soft lips trailing down towards his collar. Lan Xichen's (big, warm, lovely) hands smoothed along his back and sides. When Meng Yao finally groaned and sank back, the motion slid them up his chest, under his shirt.
"Can you drive, Da-ge?" Lan Xichen asked, amused. He dropped a kiss of his own on Nie Mingjue's lips, wet from Meng Yao's mouth. It pressed him flush against Meng Yao's back. Meng Yao, sandwiched between them, thought, yes, please.
Nie Mingjue cupped his perfect face long enough to deepen the kiss. "You see why I wanted to?"
"I don't recall complaining."
Given what all his boyfriends had confessed to getting up to in this car already, Meng Yao just bet he hadn't. "What are our plans for today?" It was still early in the afternoon, and the day stretched out in front of them, decadent with possibilities.
"Takeout?" Nie Mingjue suggested. "I thought we could go for a drive."
They hated him; he loved it. Meng Yao made a hungry sound and squirmed in his seat.
They stopped at a slightly higher grade of fast food place than Meng Yao usually frequented in that it had vegetarian options for Lan Xichen, and then Nie Mingjue started making his way out of the city. It was the tail end of fall, in the scenic gap between the leaves turning and the first snowfall, but that didn't really matter. Meng Yao held up Nie Mingjue's burger for him to take bites out of, alternating eating his own sandwich with curating the playlist—Meng Yao had been put in charge of Nie Mingjue's phone after the two of them had overridden Lan Xichen's vote for classical music (sweet boy, he tried). Lan Xichen sat with his arm stretched out along the back of the seat behind them both, trying to look put-upon and mostly hitting fond instead.
The food having been demolished, Meng Yao allowed himself to relax into the curve of Lan Xichen's body. He caught Nie Mingjue sneaking glances at them and didn't try to hide the warm, contented glow he was basking in, tipping his head against Lan Xichen's shoulder and watching back through the screen of his long eyelashes.
"Xichen, make him stop that before I drive us off the road," Nie Mingjue complained.
"Da-ge," Meng Yao gasped in mock reproach. Nie Mingjue swore.
Nuzzling at the hair behind Meng Yao's ear to draw his attention, Lan Xichen chuckled. "Don't you think you might be overdoing it, just a little?"
"Geges are both so cruel to your A-Yao," Meng Yao pouted.
"Fuuuuck." Nie Mingjue cut the wheel in a hard turn.
Meng Yao squeaked much more authentically as the car slewed onto what was more a track than a road. Lan Xichen's arm tightened around him, supplementing the retrofitted seatbelts.
They came to a stop a few hundred yards on in the middle of a stand of evergreen trees. Nie Mingjue pulled off to the side of the dirt road and yanked the parking brake before pouncing on Meng Yao like a feral tiger.
Arousal spiked, and Meng Yao clung to those shoulders like a rock face, nipping biting kisses in answer to Nie Mingjue sinking his teeth into his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nipple through his shirt. Moulding himself along Meng Yao's back, Lan Xichen's hands wandered between them in a highly distracting manner such that it was only the release in pressure that told them he'd undone their seatbelts.
Already half in Lan Xichen's lap, Meng Yao found himself pressed deliciously between them as they kissed. There were so many hands on him, over and under his clothes. The world blurred into a perfect haze of wanting and having, a beautifully messy tangle of all three of them. They'd only been dating a few weeks, and they hadn't had a chance like this before.
Laughing, they worked at cross-purposes, Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue attacking the buttons of Lan Xichen's fitted shirt while Lan Xichen simultaneously tried to push Meng Yao's off over his head (by majority vote, Nie Mingjue was absolutely forbidden from removing the sweater). Finally, Meng Yao had to distract Lan Xichen by biting down his throat so Nie Mingjue could finish. He kept scraping his teeth over the exposed planes of Lan Xichen's chest, drawing out breathy little whimpers that went straight to his cock. Lan Xichen arched when his hot little mouth latched onto a nipple, and Nie Mingjue pinned him by the shoulders. Meng Yao pinched the other side and Lan Xichen convulsed again. He was hard; Meng Yao ground against his trapped erection, absolutely on fire, he wanted them so badly.
"A-Yao, A-Yao, may we touch you?"
"Please, Er-ge."
This time, he let Lan Xichen take his shirt off. Instantly, Nie Mingjue's hands were on his bare skin, so fucking huge. Meng Yao rocked into his palm, not caring how needy he looked.
"Fuck, fucking look at you both," Nie Mingjue groaned.
Meng Yao bit his lip as those hands went down his pants, yes, yes finally yes. Lan Xichen was undoing his fly; Nie Mingjue was touching his cock. Meng Yao reconsidered all his views on religion.
"Da-ge, Da-ge," he panted as Nie Mingjue pulled him out and started stroking him in earnest. Lan Xichen watched with wide, dark eyes, fingers tight on Meng Yao's hips. "Fuck, gege, fuck, I'm—"
Meng Yao came messily all over Lan Xichen's perfect stomach. He sagged back into Nie Mingjue's arms; Lan Xichen gave a dazed look up at them like he'd just seen god. All Meng Yao wanted to do was get on his knees and lick him like an ice cream cone. With Nie Mingjue all hard cock and soft sweater behind him, one orgasm was barely enough to give his libido pause. Seventeen sucked a lot of the time, but it did have its compensations.
"So beautiful." Nie Mingjue kissed his hair. "What do you say, A-Yao? Do you want to watch Da-ge and Xichen?"
"I want you both," Meng Yao said dreamily. "It's A-Yao's turn to be good for his geges."
Lan Xichen made a wounded sound; Nie Mingjue rumbled; Meng Yao shivered and melted against him.
"Yeah, yes, we can work with that," Nie Mingjue rasped. "A-Huan, hold him?"
"Mm. I'll even consider giving him back, if you ask very nicely."
Tipping Meng Yao forward onto Lan Xichen's lap, he pulled away, and Meng Yao lost track of him for a long, blissful interval of making out with Lan Xichen that included Lan Xichen taking his jeans the rest of the way off. Meng Yao's come was slick between them; he rubbed it into that creamy skin, bent to taste with little kitten licks.
"A-Yao," Lan Xichen moaned desperately. All at once, Meng Yao found himself pinned back against the solid bulk of Nie Mingjue in nothing but the sweater, and fuck, his cock. His bare, hard cock, rubbing in the crevice of Meng Yao's ass, feeling even bigger than he'd imagined.
And then Lan Xichen was pushing his legs wider. He'd slid into the footwell because as undeniably hot as the car was, it was not a king-sized bed and Meng Yao's boyfriends were both built on a scale that dwarfed the vehicular amenities of anything less than the back of a Good Times van.
Lan Xichen's tongue was hot on his inner thighs. Each of Meng Yao's breaths came with a little shivery whine as he looked on; already, he was better than half hard again. Nie Mingjue clasped his wrists loosely, stopping him touching.
"Fuck yes, A-Huan; you're a fucking genius."
"Mm. You'll like this, A-Yao," Lan Xichen promised, dropping to lick at the base Nie Mingjue's cock. "Da-ge is going to fuck your thighs. You just need to be wet enough."
With that, he dragged his teeth quickly over a tendon, following it to Meng Yao's other thigh. He mouthed at the soft skin there, alternating licks and sucking bruises. Once he was apparently satisfied, he reached between Meng Yao's legs and pulled Nie Mingjue's cock out, which was so hot Meng Yao's brain was reduced to static. Lan Xichen closed his eyes and hollowed his cheeks, those sinful lips stretched in a way that was going to haunt Meng Yao's dreams.
Together, they encouraged Meng Yao to shift up and close his spit-slick thighs around Nie Mingjue's spit-slick shaft. It felt—oh fuck. "Gege," he said to both of them equally; the thick, dusky head of Nie Mingjue's cock poked out beneath his own. "Fuck, please."
Bending his head again, Lan Xichen took Meng Yao's now very definitely revived cock in his mouth. "Er-ge."
Nie Mingjue released his hands so he could bury them in Lan Xichen's hair. He anchored Meng Yao by his hips and gave an experimental thrust. Oh, that was— Meng Yao's eyes rolled up and he writhed back against Nie Mingjue's sweater-clad chest, like a velvet-covered boulder, while Lan Xichen mouthed sloppily at their cocks. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought wildly in time with Nie Mingjue grunting it in his ear.
Meng Yao squeezed his legs tighter and Nie Mingjue bucked under him. Each thrust dragged his cock over Meng Yao's taint and past his balls, pushed him into Lan Xichen's mouth, lighting his whole body up in a way he'd never known was possible.
When Nie Mingjue came, it was like a tectonic movement. He spilled all over all of them, and abruptly, Meng Yao was wild to know what that felt like inside. He'd be so fucking sloppy, Lan Xichen would be able to push right in—
Meng Yao came with something like a wail into Lan Xichen's mouth. Nie Mingjue was petting his front and sides when he resurfaced from the white-out blaze of orgasm. Lan Xichen had that hot, heavy-lidded look Meng Yao was starting to recognise, when he needed something so badly he couldn't process asking for it.
Between them, Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao got him back onto the seat. Meng Yao went to his knees without even having to think about it, unzipping Lan Xichen's jeans with bold hands and greedily pulling out his cock; above, Nie Mingjue was licking the come off Lan Xichen's chest and neck.
Meng Yao savoured his first look at Lan Xichen's cock. It was as gorgeous as the rest of him; Meng Yao couldn't even be mad. Hazy with afterglow, he lapped at the steady stream of fluid weeping from the head and trusted Nie Mingjue to keep Lan Xichen from bucking him off halfway through. Meng Yao dropped his jaw and wondered distantly if Nie Mingjue was very much bigger, if he'd even fit, if Lan Xichen was desperate enough to fuck his mouth. That was probably a little advanced for his first-ever blowjob, but Meng Yao's mouth watered in prospect all the same.
By now, the two of them had moved on to kissing; Meng Yao couldn't help sneaking glances at them, half-dressed and utterly debauched. It was hard to tell who exactly was responsible for that sound Lan Xichen was making, but Meng Yao redoubled his efforts, and suddenly the salt-bitter taste of precome was flooded out by Lan Xichen's release.
He swallowed as much as he could, and then found himself hauled back up onto the bench seat. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue took turns licking the come out of his mouth, keeping him in the warm place between them until finally they'd recovered enough to wriggle their clothes back on. Meng Yao found himself bundled up in Nie Mingjue's sweater.
"You know you're never getting that back, right?" Lan Xichen told him, petting Meng Yao's sweatery chest as he lay across both of them. Bliss.
"Worth it," Nie Mingjue declared positively, sneaking a hand up under it. Wonderfully tight on Nie Mingjue, on Meng Yao it was hilariously oversized. Meng Yao did not care.
"Mm," was his only comment, head pillowed on Lan Xichen's thigh. Fuck, he loved this car.