Make the Most of the Night

Behold, my fucking albatross. I spent all damn night on this thing, because it got deleted last night, and also because I realized that if I write this, I have Kennedy under my heel until the end of time.

Owen/Axel/Joey. It’s seriously nsfw.

And yes it was inspired by a Ke$ha song. Fight me.

If someone were to ask Owen what he liked to do best on the weekends, after ‘fuck Axel’ and ‘text Kara’, he’d probably have to say clubbing.

He’d never had the best luck with bars. Let’s face it, since meeting his father, he’d been abducted from every bar he set foot in alone. Clubs, however, were different. Pounding music, people he didn’t know pressing in on all sides, expensive as fuck drinks. It was a totally different experience, and he loved it.

“Play Paranoid!”

Clubbing with Axel was…well, it was definitely interesting. Axel, who was clumsy on the ground, unless he was in his stupid fucking sky-high heels. He bumped into no less than five people as he made his way back to the bar, but grinned at Owen when he sat down.

“Check it, O! Wallets!”

…of course, he’d been stealing from them. Owen emptied the wallets of their cash, stuffing the shells into his coat pockets.

“I told you not to do that this close to home, baby.”

They were in Central. It was why Axel wasn’t dressed up tonight, why he wasn’t supposed to be robbing people. No one needed to know the Trickster and Captain Boomerang were back in town just yet. Let Axel go buck wild in Star City, lipstick the town red in Opal, pick the pockets of everyone he met in Gotham. But in Central, they had to be careful. Keystone was just next door, and there were more than a few people who wanted them strung up by their ankles in the area. Axel just rolled his eyes, hailing the bartender.

“Like I give a f- uh. Hey! Hold on. Hey! Hey, I see you over there!” He was shouting, waving wildly at a tall man in the corner who looked like he hadn’t washed his hair in a week. The man’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling, and he started making his way over. “Thought it was you, ya greasy bastard. O, this is Joey. You know him better when he’s nine feet tall and molten.”

This ‘Joey’ was tall, as tall as Owen was. He wore a ratty leather jacket, even in the heat of the club, but his jeans looked new. They still had little creases pressed in them, like he’d ditched his old pants in the dressing room and just walked out with them. If Joey was who Owen thought he was, then yeah, that was probably the case.

“Tar Pit. Yeah, hey.” Owen was playing it cool. Coolish. He was watching Joey like a hawk, though, because suddenly, he was a lot more threatening.

Axel was either an oblivious idiot, or he wanted Owen to fight for him. Maybe both. All Owen knew was that he wasn’t shy about having his hands on this other guy, right in front of him.

“-and in Metropolis, it was so rad, totally ran into the Toyman and he gave me this, hahaha! Check it out!” In Metropolis, the Toyman had given Axel a sonic conversion kit, because he felt the kid had too many explosions and not enough sense-scramblers. Owen had made sure to stay between the two of them at all times. But that wasn’t important now, because Axel’s hand.

Was on Joey’s wrist.

The brat caught Owen’s eye and smirked.

“We need to talk.” He was dragging Axel away from the bar by the back of his pants, with the blonde chanting a symphony of ows as they went. Once they were by the bathrooms, Owen slammed him against the wall. “What the fuck was that all about?” Axel tried to look innocent, his eyes going huge behind the big, square glasses that Owen told him made him look smart.

“What was what? Joey’s my bro. We chilled before I even met you. Am I not allowed to have friends now that we fuck?”

That stung. Call him a romantic, but spending nearly two months on the road with Axel’s annoying ass had definitely upgraded them from bros-who-fuck into legit boyfriends. He let Axel go. “Whatever. I’m getting a drink.” He was shoving his way back to the bar when he felt someone tug on his back pocket. “Ax, I swear to fuck-“

“Okay, I wanna do you both.” That froze him in his tracks. It wasn’t Axel tugging at him, it was Joey. He’d followed them, somehow, and from the way Axel was still stuck to the wall, he hadn’t been expecting this little plot twist either. Which is how they ended up stumbling through the front door of Joey’s shitty little walkup apartment, drunk off their asses three hours later.

It had been a fairly long negotiation process. At first, Owen had just said no. No way. Not happening. He was a jealous man by nature, though his easygoing personality hid that fact pretty well. He’d been marking Axel as his quite thoroughly for months now, and there was no way some guido-looking drug dealer was going to take what was his. An entire bottle of vodka on someone else’s dime changed his tune a bit. Okay, a lot. Which was why he was just gripping the arm of Joey’s couch hard enough to rip it and taking a straight swig from their to-go bottle rather than hauling off and punching Joey for daring to have Axel sit in his lap as he shoved his tongue down the blonde’s throat.

Axel moaned into their kiss, and Owen grinned as he spotted a flash of sharp white teeth just before…yup. Joey yelped, pulling back to lick the blood droplets off his lower lip. Owen had little bruises all over his body from those teeth, his own inner lips practically callused from all the biting Axel did. Not that he ever complained. Axel’s lips and tongue more than made up for the damage his teeth caused.

Giggling in a dazed way, Axel flopped off of Joey’s lap, crawling to Owen on his hands and knees until he could rest his cheek on Owen’s thigh. “Gimme some of that.” He opened his mouth expectantly, sticking out his tongue a bit. Owen laughed, then drank from the bottle himself.

“You want some, baby?” He took another swig, then kissed Axel hard, ‘pouring’ it into his mouth that way. Axel went boneless, and Owen picked him up, holding him in his own lap. Across the room, Joey stared at them, jaw slack. He stood, taking a step towards the couch.

“That was…fuck. You two are…fuck.” He gripped his hair in frustration, then relaxed and shed his jacket. Somehow, standing there in just his stolen jeans and old wifebeater, he looked bigger without it. Joey was pale from all the time his body had spent in the Iron Heights infirmary while he was Tar Pit, but his wide shoulders and strong arms more than made up for his basement-dweller pallor, and Owen immediately noticed how Axel bit his own lip, following the lines of Joey’s muscles with his eyes. Axel had a thing for strong men, as he’d confessed to Owen one night, after Owen caught him beating off to a picture in the paper of Len trading blows with the Flash. Just another secret part of his life that Axel didn’t want the others to know about.

“Hey, you wanna hear something great?” His mouth was moving on auto-pilot. Joey cocked his head, and even Axel glanced up at him through his lashes. “Axel looks fucking hot as a chick.” Axel’s face paled, eyes going wide behind the glasses he still hadn’t taken off. “When we go to a club out of town, he dresses up and hangs out at the bar alone, then flirts with guys until I come and steal him away.” And really, wasn’t this just an extension of their little game? Axel lived to make him jealous, but this was going above and beyond the call of duty. “First time he’s done it as a guy, though.” Okay, that was slightly mean. He was making it seem like they were fucking with him without actually planning on fucking him. Joey’s face fell.

“That, that ain’t right, man. Fuckin’ with my head like that ain’t right.” Because Joey wasn’t just some random guy. He was supposed to be Axel’s friend. Owen leaned down, breathing a suggestion into Axel’s ear.

“Hey, go apologize for biting him.”

With a grin, Axel poured himself back onto his feet, snagging Joey’s waistband as soon as it was in range. He had a beer gut, albeit a small one, and the confusing sensation of the combination of fat over otherwise hard muscle caused Axel to sigh as he dropped to his knees. Joey made a little choked noise as Axel pulled out his dick, and Owen wrinkled his nose. Uncircumsized. A little longer that Owen’s, but slimmer. And then Axel’s lips were wrapping around it, and Owen felt positively sorry for the guy when Joey tried to reach out to hold onto a wall and just found empty air. So he carded both hands into Axel’s hair, trying not to thrust into the hot wetness that was Axel’s talented little mouth, and-

“G-god, so this is what I have to do to get you to shut the fuck up.” That causes Axel to choke, and Owen to burst out laughing, and then he’s pulling Axel off and shoving Joey towards what he thinks is the bedroom. He’s right, and the bed’s right there. Axel sprawls across it like a pin-up model, except he still has entirely too many clothes on.

Owen sized Joey up. Through his vodka monocle, the other man was starting to look almost hot. Of course, the rest of him knew that he was a threat, but the important parts were warming to the idea. Owen got him by the back of the neck, mashing their mouths together violently, without a shred of grace. Joey tasted like cheap cigarettes and vodka and Axel’s name, which he’d begun to moan. At first, Owen thought the other man had the bad habit of kissing with his eyes open, like Axel did, until he noticed that both eyes were locked on something that was definitely not his face.

Axel writhed naked on the unmade bed, two lube-slicked fingers deep in his ass as he fisted his own cock.

Owen groaned helplessly, shoving Joey away so that he could pull off his shirt, his pants already unbuttoned by the sheer force of his dick pushing against them. Climbing into bed with Axel, he grabbed the blonde’s wrist, stilling him on the in-stroke. He could feel Axel’s pulse beat rapidly as he tried to twist his fingers within himself, but Owen pulled them out.

“You want him? You gotta work for him.” Owen tossed the tube of lube of unknown origin at Joey; it bounced off his chest. He picked it up with shaky hands, and Axel whined, canting his hips up to thrust into Owen’s fist, which had taken over for his own. Owen tried to see through Joey’s eyes.

Axel’s legs were spread wide, his back arched, feet planted firmly on the bed. His body language was nothing more than a contant plea to be fucked, and Joey looked like he was planning on obliging. His fingers were wider than Axel’s, so it took a few tries before the blonde could accept two. Soon, however…

“M-more.” He gasped, baring his throat to Owen, who latched on without a second thought. Three fingers, four… “No, I mean, fuck me, dumbass!” Joey dropped the tube, which he’d been clutching with his free hand. Owen snorted, reaching for the condom in his wallet.

“This ride comes with a safety bar. No arguing.” The condom was literally snatched from his hand. As he fumbled to get it on, a drunken, nervous giggle bubbled out of Joey’s throat.

“I haven’t, uh, yeah. Since like a month before the first time I became Tar Pit. The first thing I did when I got my body back was jerk off and I-” Axel kicked him in the stomach. Not hard, but enough that he’d shut the hell up and get a move on. Joey tried to enter him as he was, on his back, but Axel sat up. 

“No, wait. Wait. Better idea. Just. You lay down.” Like a blitzed porn director, Axel arranged his bedmates so that Joey was on his back, legs hanging off the side of the bed, while Owen just sort of…stood next to the nightstand.

“Babe, what are you even trying to-” Axel shushed him before straddling Joey in reverse and slowly, carefully, began to impale himself on the other man’s cock. Joey let out a shout. Even with the condom, the heat and pressure from that angle were incredible. Axel dug his nails into Joey’s knees, spreading his own legs further to finish the slow, torturous slide down. Eventually, his ass met with the cradle of Joey’s hips, and it was then that he beckoned Owen forward, grabbing hold of his dick and, without any preable, sucking it into his mouth.

Let it never be said that the second Trickster wasn’t as inventive as the first. With Joey’s hands on his hips, offering unneeded assistance in raising and lowering him, and Owen’s hands twisted in his hair, neither man was in any presence of mind to attempt to Eiffel Tower him. Both, however, were quite prone to babbling.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah. Just like that.” Owen whispered huskily, thumbing Axel’s ear as he swallowed around the thick member in his throat. When he began to hum, Owen nearly doubled over, his knees going weak. Axel had a mouth that was built for sucking cock, and Owen was always happy to tell him so. “Fffuck, Axel! You, goddamn. Baby…” He couldn’t finish, and Axel whimpered. Owen glanced down.

Joey was drawing blood.

Owen nearly pulled Axel off him, until his vision cleared and he saw the full picture. Joey’s nails were digging into the skin of Axel’s hips so hard, he was getting cut. Because the other man was trying to hold back. He’d been making abortive litte thrusts upwards, mostly content to let Axel move the way he wanted. But now Joey needed to move. Owen pulled his cock from Axel’s mouth, leaning down to kiss him.

“Hey, you.” Joey froze. “Get up, and fuck him against the wall.” Axel’s head shot up. “Trust me.” The younger man relaxed somewhat…until Joey didn’t pull out. He sat up, gathered as much of Axel as he could, and just…carried him over to the far side of the room to bend him over. Axel put both hands on the wall, then looked over his shoulder.

“O-“

“Already here.” He was on his knees in front of Axel. As Joey began to move in earnest, he took the blonde’s cock into his mouth. Sensation hit Axel so hard he jerked, grinding back against Joey and banging his head into the wall.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” The Italian man was chanting, the ends of the words practically sobbed. His hands were back on Axel’s hips, his entire body covering the smaller man. “Ax, I. I’m gonna. Fuck! God, Ax, I lo- fuck!” Joey shuddered, shouting. Owen dragged his teeth over the head of Axel’s cock, his hand moving at a speed only he could fathom over his own painful erection.

Axel screamed.

When they finally came back to themselves, Joey was draped over Axel, arms around his midsection, his forehead pressed to the wall. Owen’s front, from his goatee to his naval, was sticky with the evidence of their evening. And Axel was unconscious.

“Heh, yeah. He’s a sleeper. Uhn! Here.” Owen groaned as he got to his feet, legs sore. Joey refused to let go. “Funny. Give him here, or I tell him what you almost said just now.” Panicked, the other man released the slumbering blonde, pulling out with a wet noise.

While Joey disposed of his condom, Owen carried Axel over to the bed, laying him out, then went to find the bathroom. Only a shower would get him truly clean, but he didn’t want to leave Axel that long. Not with Joey there. So he settled for mopping himself off with Joey’s only towel, then wetting it and scrubbing himself down as best he could. When he got back, the number of people in the bed had doubled.

“Look, man. I’m only going to say this once. Axel is mine. I’m a reasonable man. I’ll let him play his games. But if you try and take him from me, I will kill you, and smile while I do it.” Joey pulled his hand back from where he’d been petting Axel’s hair, and the younger Rogue stirred.

“S’time t’go home?” Owen thought about returning to their hotel room in Central, but it was empty, and it’s not like they were planning on paying for it anyway. No, home was a whole different animal, and much, much closer. They’d crossed the bridge to get to Joey’s apartment, after all.

“Yeah, baby. Let’s go back.” He gathered up their clothes as Axel sat up and stretched, already half dressed by the time the blonde got on his underwear. It was nearly dawn when they left the apartment, hopping into Owen’s car for the full ten-block journey back to the warehouse. As they turned onto the street where the secret entrance stood, Axel cleared his throat.

“I heard what you said.” Owen’s blood ran cold, but he kept on driving.

“Yeah, so?” Axel fiddled with his seatbelt.

“I just, I’d fight for you too, y’know? Because we, we don’t just fuck.”

It was as close to a sappy romantic declaration as he was going to get at five in the morning, and Owen decided he’d take it as is.

“Yeah, I know. C’mon, Ax. Let’s see if they even noticed we were gone.”

And maybe, as they stepped through the mirror entrance into the sealed warehouse that served as their home, Axel took his hand.

  1. iheartrogues reblogged this from touchofgrey37
  2. happysunshinerainbowbarf said: “Vodka monocle” is still the classiest thing. <3
  3. thatonelesbianyouknow reblogged this from touchofgrey37 and added:
    i i cant fucking breATHE
  4. touchofgrey37 posted this