TW: Filming, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Smut, Established Relationship

The video camera's fanfaric startup noise makes Ross want to laugh at its seemingly enthusiastic interest. He allows a small smile to rest on his lips as he adjusts the device's settings. The hotel room is lit by three lamps that give off that sense of depravity one often feels when they have made plans like these. The white faux leather chair he sits in is comfortable yet impersonal. It is diagonally across from a similar looking couch. The large flat screen television on his right is off and the heavy coffee colored curtains behind him are closed. There's a low, pleasant hum from the air conditioning unit underneath the window. It blows a cool breeze onto the back of Ross' neck that sends a scattering of goosebumps down his arms.

He's alone for the moment in the spacious room with its single king-sized bed and unused corner whirlpool tub. He remembers the amused look the front desk girl had given them as they had checked in. It only lasted for a brief moment but Ross had seen it. In return he had said his most polite thank you before he accepted the keycards and ushered Alex and Chris towards the elevators.

The door to the bathroom is closed. Ross looks at the dark, solid wood. It won't be much longer now, he thinks, before they're delving into the least of the sociably acceptable forms of art.

They had decided on a hotel room because of Alex. The man insisted that it be a hotel room for a number of gaudy reasons that made Ross and Chris choke on their saliva and double over with laughter. He had been convincing enough, though, because here they all were. A lone Wednesday night out in early August was definitely within their budget and easily slipped into their schedule. When they made the plan it had felt almost too professional. But Ross likes the idea of professionalism. Something like this needs a sort of special execution of effort and Ross always puts forth his best.

Not that they can't have a little fun as well.

Ross is just configuring what he believes to be the optimal brightness setting when the bathroom door opens. He looks up and catches Chris' eyes before taking in the man's clean shaven face. Ross puckers his lips. He likes Chris' patchy facial hair but thinks he knows why it went. Behind Chris is Alex, who stands over him with squinting eyes and a toothy grin. They are both dressed in simple clothes; a light blue polo for Chris and a well-worn burgundy tee on Alex. Their cargo shorts match.

Ross watches them walk over to the couch. They sit in the middle of it with legs touching, pressed against each other's side. They're barefoot and now that they're closer Ross can see the dampness of their hair. Alex's classic top wave is in place though, and it leads Ross to think that he had done a bit of styling to it. His beard is well trimmed. Although the lighting is dim Ross' lips quirk at the sight of Alex's ever perky nipples showing through his thin shirt.

"So," Chris starts, with that same calm enthusiasm he uses when they get together to discuss important business. Ross meets his eyes for the second time. "Is everything ready?"

"I think so," Ross says. He notices that his hands are like ice but they are also sweating. He clears his throat a little while checking the camera's battery life and memory space. He's already done so multiple times, but Chris' gaze is too much to hold at that moment; there's suddenly charged air between them.

"Where do you want us?"

At the question Ross looks up again. They had already talked about this before, on the drive here. Chris had gone over every detail in such a well-presented way that Ross had thought he had it all down perfectly.

He blinks once, then twice. His eyes flick over to Alex, who sits silently, before back to Chris.

Ross takes in a small breath and answers, "On the couch, please, if you don't mind."

He almost curses his automatic politeness, but before he can Alex cracks his knuckles and smiles. He stretches his arms up over his head.

"Ross, relax. You're taking this too seriously." Alex's playful tone helps to calm his nerves only just a little.

Ross keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't want to chance a retort because he knows anything said from him right now would just feel like stalling. So he nods, more so to himself, and lifts the camera. He waits for it to focus on the two men on the couch. He's sitting close enough that he won't have to zoom in too often.

"Ready when you are," Ross says before he pushes the record button. The red light on top comes to life with a steady heartbeat glow.

He holds the camera surprisingly steady as Alex places a hand on Chris' knee and leans into him. It's a gesture Ross has seen so many times before between all of them that he's confused as to why he feels a small rush of excitement over it. Through the flip-out side viewer he watches as that hand slides up only centimeters and then tightens its grip. Alex places a silent kiss at Chris' neck before he's being softly pushed back, just enough so that Chris can face him properly and join their mouths.

There's something sensual, Ross finds, in watching these two men kiss. He isn't envious nor jealous. They are people he has known for years now, and seeing them come together like this is natural. The way that Chris tilts his head back from Alex's forward push, how his hand grips into the smooth couch; it's all so riveting from two separate perspectives. The scene is visually pleasing to his film maker side as it is stimulating to his natural being. He loves them both purely in that moment.

When Alex gives a huff of breath through his nose it's all lost, and Ross feels normal once again. He steadies the camera and rests his elbow on the high arm of the chair. His free hand comes up to run fingers over his mustache without much thought. He's clear headed, but not yet as engaged as he wants to be. He thinks that maybe it's because the two before him are only kissing that he's still feeling the remnants of awkwardness about this whole situation. They've all kissed so many times that it has become an unconscious habit to do so whenever they have the chance alone. It's more sweet than arousing.

Alex abruptly pulls back and buries his face into where Chris' neck meets shoulder. He burrows in until the shirt collar moves out of his way and the exposed skin is quickly sucked on. Ross sees Chris tense, then relax. Chris appears to take the opportunity to thread his fingers into the wild, silken down that is Alex's hair. Ross zooms just a tad, just enough to capture the way Chris' eyes fall shut as he pushes Alex closer, urging him to use more force. The length of his neck stretches before Alex now, Adam's apple a fine little hill. Alex works his way to it and grazes it with his teeth. There's a soft mumble of gratitude from Chris that is far too quiet to be picked up on the camera's audio. They had decided not to wear mics since their clothes weren't going to be staying on. And honestly, it would have felt a little too professional.

Ross wants music. His leg jumps in a light tune that doesn't disrupt the camera. Alex had said no to that, though. He said music ruins porn, no matter how great the songs are. And in a way, Ross agrees with him. Just as bad acting at the beginning is always cringe worthy, the usually distasteful music is the real downfall. Still, Ross scans his mind for an appropriate song, something that suits these two well. Something that will follow their progression from teasingly flirtatious to what is bound to become filthier.

Alex delivers the start of that slow transition. Ross always wonders if the man can read thoughts, or if he just knows body language and certain looks well enough to understand what someone wants. He moves his hand off Chris' knee and weasels it under the polo, nails no doubt skimming Chris' stomach on their way to his side. Alex slides his hand around to Chris' back and up, bringing the polo with it. It bunches at Alex's wrist as he palms along the skin underneath. Alex whispers something to Chris that makes the man smile. It's too low for Ross to hear, but knowing Alex he can probably take a well educated guess at what it was.

Chris raises his arms as Alex pulls up his shirt. It catches at his chin but with a little tug it comes off. Ross stares at Chris' face. He's just had an idea. Ross presses the record button to pause the video.

"Can we stop for a minute? Trott, did you bring your glasses?"

Alex gives a confused head tilt, but Chris' smile grows wider. It seems like he knows exactly what Ross is thinking.

"I did, in fact, bring my glasses. As well as a few other things." Trott slips from the couch and goes to his duffel bag that sits on the floor next to the whirlpool.

Alex balls up Chris' shirt before he seems to realize what he's doing and shakes it back out. He says, "Seems like someone's been anticipating this for longer than expected."

"More like I prepared accordingly because I knew you wouldn't," Chris says as he puts his glasses on. He turns to face them both, hands on his hips, and Ross is hit with a nostalgic feeling. Chris looks so young, like he did years ago. But he's still different, because his glasses are red and his hair is messier and a little shorter. Ross wonders if Alex notices this as well.

"Trott, mate, just hurry the fuck up. We can argue about who's better at playing wife later."

Chris gives an appropriate eye roll at Alex's whining. He turns back to his bag though, and this time resurfaces with a bottle of Maximus lubricant. He returns to the couch and tosses the bottle at Ross, who catches it with one hand. Chris resumes his same position next to Alex. Before Ross is able to refocus the camera, Alex grabs Chris' legs and rotates him so that he's facing Alex, legs on either side of the taller man.

Ross is quick to push record. He was going to say something, but finds that the change in position is actually a good place to pick back up.

Alex lets go of Chris' legs and pushes the man back until he's lying fully on the couch, the top of his head pressed against the armrest. Alex leans over him, hands next to his shoulders. He looks down for a moment before he gradually lowers his head. He gives Chris a slow, deep kiss that has Ross' breath hitching as the camera gently zooms in. But Alex moves on too soon. He goes straight for Chris' protruding collarbones, kissing along them loudly, nipping them every so often.

Chris lifts his arms and takes a hold of the armrest, elbows pointing at the textured ceiling. He breathes in deeply as Alex follows his sternum while Ross lets out the breath he had been holding. He watches as Alex grazes his lips towards Chris' right nipple. There's a low hum of pleasure from Chris when Alex lavishes his tongue over the erect bud. He holds it between his teeth, giving it a light tug and that hum turns into a quiet moan. An amused half-snort comes from Alex and he lets go. He keeps his head lowered though, and continues the length of Chris' body.

At the bottom of Chris' ribs Alex gets his tongue out again. He traces it along the half-moon from right side to left, an unhurried trip that has Chris lifting his legs and pushing his feet at Alex's hips. Ross pans the camera upward to catch Chris' face. His mouth is open, head tipped back, and behind his glasses his eyes are just about closed. A slight sliver of brown observes Alex closely with an unblinking gaze.

Alex pulls away from Chris in order to remove his shirt. He crosses his arms and pulls it off, giving his head a shake afterwards. He drops the tee over the back of the couch and smirks at Chris. Ross steadies the camera's view so that it captures both of them. Seconds seem to tick by as though stuck in syrup. Neither of the two have looked at the camera yet. Ross wants to give them a thumbs up but thinks that he'll probably be ignored. Instead, he shifts slightly and bites his bottom lip, wondering what Alex is going to do next. The man is known to be unpredictable.

Chris stops clutching the armrest and lets his arms lie slack against it. Ross frowns a little, not liking the color of the couch. It clashes with the paleness of Chris' skin. It is so unlike the charcoal one back at the office that Ross almost wishes they would have done this there. But that would have been dangerous.

Alex finally reaches a hand towards Chris. He undoes the button and zip of his khaki shorts. With a swift tug they are off and Chris is bare except for his red briefs. With their black elastic outline they form a beautiful contrast with the couch and Ross takes back what he thought before about disliking the color. Chris looks model-like, stretched out with Alex between his legs. There's something almost devilishly sly about him and Ross has to hold back a laugh at the thought of Chris making his crazed raccoon noise. He's tempted to ask Chris to do it, but before he can Alex blocks Chris in, kissing him fully.

They almost seem to be in a world of their own, Ross thinks, and refuses to feel any jealously. After all, he had agreed to be the cameraman. He could have declined the position and suggested a couple different set ups with stationary cameras instead which would have given him the opportunity to participate. But his professional mind firmly said no. He wanted it done in a certain style, even if it meant being left out. Plus, it wasn't all that bad of a deal. At least he was able to watch.

Chris flicks his eyes to the right, directly at him, and Ross' thoughts freeze. He suddenly feels guilty and tries to offer a smile of reassurance which ends up strained. Chris almost looks skeptical, but refocuses his attention back on Alex. His arms come down to the other man, lying over his shoulders. The empty space between Chris' wrist and fingers is a sort of delicate interest to Ross as he focuses on it movie-style for a quick moment. And then he's back to a fuller shot, leaning into the chair to watch as Alex slides his hands under Chris' back.

Alex lifts Chris' lower half up without any trouble until he's seated in his lap while still reclined. Chris appears to be playing submissive, at least for the time being. Ross usually enjoys seeing him in charge, but Alex's sexually aggressive verbal mannerisms create too much tension not to allow him some semblance of power over Chris. His broad upper body seems to pin Chris down. The pinkish glow of Alex's light skin presses visually against the smaller of the two. It's stunning, Ross thinks, how Alex can keep himself so controlled when he's on top of Chris.

And Ross wonders just how long that control will last because he knows how fragile it is. But maybe, since he's on camera, Alex will be able to keep up the façade. Maybe the camera will provide just enough incentive for Alex to keep his mouth closed, free of his usual obscenities. Not that Ross feels like it would detract much from the video.

Chris looks particularly racy in his red glasses. He holds Alex's gaze as though they are having a silent conversation. Alex moves his face back in close, just enough so that he can bite down on Chris' plush lower lip and give it a tug. Ross is caught up in the act, forgetting to blink. It's somewhat animalistic but also very human. In the simple gesture a lot is said about Chris' and Alex's relationship.

When Alex lets go, Chris stretches his neck to give Alex's scratchy chin a nip. Ross has always been a big fan of Alex's beard. He's a bit envious that Chris gets to feel the bristles rub along his fresh shaven cheek as Alex bites at his ear. There's finally a sound from Alex: a gritted growl that Ross thinks translates into a more complex message than what it might normally mean. Ross is set a little on edge by it. But he's interested, and starting to get aroused. He knows it will be only a matter of time before he's sitting uncomfortably.

In what looks like the issue of a challenge, Chris threads his fingers into Alex's hair and pulls quite hard. Alex holds against it. He puts on an almost threateningly wicked smile. Ross swallows heavily. There is abruptly more tension in the room than there was a second ago. And it's a thicker kind, one that doesn't have any of the usual clenched words from Alex and the shrugging acceptance of Chris. It resembles a standoff, and Ross is sure that Chris will come up with something to assert himself.

To Ross' surprise, Alex removes Chris' hands from his hair and sits back. He hooks his index fingers into Chris' briefs and then drags them down. Chris doesn't even put up a fight; he lets Alex pull the briefs from his legs. Alex drops them onto the floor and sets his hands on Chris' thighs. They look even bigger than usual, splayed out and tanned against the stark white of Chris' skin. Ross gets a closer shot and moves with Alex's hands as he presses in his fingernails and scratches downwards. Once at Chris' knees, they slide back up, not stopping until they are at the bumps of his hipbones.

Ross' angle is no good anymore. He's forced to stand, and the action is so automatic that he finds himself a little stunned. He steps closer to the couch and hangs just behind Alex's left shoulder. Chris fills the screen. A certain type of power is held in Ross' hands as he looks at the recording image of Chris. He feels a strange sense of authority, as though he's the one who can tell Chris what to do. But he says nothing. Instead, Ross stays as still as he can.

Alex ignores Ross. He's completely focused on the now naked Chris underneath him. Leaning forward, Alex comes into view on the camera. Ross can't see his face but wonders what it looks like because Chris lets out a huffed laugh. His amused expression changes quickly once Alex runs a hand over his cock. It lies half-hard against his bare pelvis. Ross blinks a few times, wondering if he's seeing things right. Never, in all the time the three have been together, have they willingly shaved anything other than their facial hair. Ross finds himself grinning. This is just like Chris, to play the part, to be the one who would go to such lengths just for a homemade sex tape. Ross is tempted to say it, too. The words rest on his tongue between parted teeth, except his lips stay closed. He can't ruin the immersion. Even though it's possible to edit the video, he just can't bring himself to tell Chris that he looks like a twink. And Ross wants to know if it instead was Alex who put him up to it, since it's always Alex telling Chris that he fits the part.

A swallowed moan startles Ross from his thoughts. He refocuses his vision through the viewfinder to watch Alex's hand as he teases his fingers up and down the length of Chris' cock. He only palms it lightly, making Chris draw in harsh breaths. Ross can't help but center the camera on his face. Chris licks his lips. A rush of arousal floods through Ross when Chris looks directly at him and gives a partial smile. Ross likes to think he's partaking in a staring contest because Chris holds his eyes. Even as Alex runs his hand lower Chris doesn't look away.

Alex scoots back and dips his head. Chris finally closes his eyes and Ross is able to snap back to what's happening. He has to move again, this time to the floor. He kneels beside Alex, the slate gray carpet soft on his jean covered knees. Chris' right leg is hanging off the couch, the heel of his foot touching the floor. The position is intrusive and personal, and Ross makes sure to keep the camera level. He's starting to like the job as cameraman a little more.

Ross can't help but notice the state of Alex's arms, the few constellations of faded freckles scattered over his skin. His muscles are evident, and Ross wants nothing more than to smooth his hand over what he knows to be warm, solid flesh. Ross is pulled away from the thought when Alex fists the base of Chris' cock, moving his lips to the head.

And then Ross says, "Yeah..."

A shot of dread goes through him. He regrets letting it slip, especially something so stupid, and mentally curses himself. Why had he done so now, when before he had been able to resist? He's usually so good about keeping quiet.

But Alex just flicks his eyes towards Ross and smiles wide. "I was starting to think you were bored," he says before opening his mouth. All of Chris' cock disappears down Alex's throat.

Ross watches silently as Chris arches his back. His hands are once again in Alex's hair. They push and pull along with Alex's even bobs. The speed increases as Alex's cheeks hollow before he pulls off completely with a loud wet pop. As he sits back up, Chris' hands fall away. He spits onto a palm and works the hand over the already slick cock. Alex turns his head and eyes the camera.

"Hand me the lube, Ross," Alex says with a devious looking smile.

Ross is still for a moment before he glances around and picks it up. Alex takes it from him and then the room goes silent. Alex stops moving his hand and squeezes the base of Chris' cock. He suddenly looks thoughtful.

"Should I rim him?" Alex asks Ross. He looks down at Chris. "Do you want to be rimmed, Trotty?"

"Do it," Ross says quickly, before Chris can respond.

They both wait, though, eyes on Chris. The man doesn't hesitate; he lifts his legs and holds them to his chest with his arms hooked behind his knees. Alex grins. He drops the lube onto the floor and places his hands on Chris' lower back. He raises Chris up, folding his body in uncomfortably. Once Chris' ass is high enough, Alex dips his head forward.

Ross has to stand once again and does so on shaky legs. This has only happened one other time and it had been a spur of the moment thing. Now he adjusts in time to see Alex's tongue as it slides across Chris' perineum and then lower.

"Fuck," Chris groans out.

The word goes straight to Ross' cock. Alex tries to laugh but it's muffled and makes Chris squirm. Chris' face is turning red and his breathing is strained. Ross wants to say something but Alex wraps both his arms around Chris' middle and lifts him. The result has Ross stepping to the side so that the camera can capture it all.

Alex is kneeling on the couch, back straight. He holds Chris upside-down with his mouth on the supple ass before him. Chris' head just touches the cushions and his glasses have fallen to his forehead. The low yellow light from the corner lamp highlights Alex's side and Chris' legs.

Ross' eyes start to water from lack of blinking. He can't help but stare. He's seen the position a few times in porn and was never very interested. But to have it physically in front of him, with the two people he loves most doing it... Ross wants to put the camera down and join them. He pictures himself in front of Chris, sucking him off, the shorter man clawing at his thighs.

Chris lets out a breathy laugh and Ross snaps out of his fantasy. Alex gives one last lick before he lifts his head. He eases Chris back down onto the couch.

"Get a real workout holding you up, Trott," Alex says while he undoes the fly of his shorts.

Chris sits up and puts his glasses in place. He cracks his back along the curve of the armrest.

"Next time we go to the gym just use me as the weight when you bench press," Chris says.

"You'd probably get a lot of strange looks," Ross says, not even trying to hide his smile.

Alex pulls off his shorts and briefs. He gives them a toss to the floor before he brings Chris in close. "Fuck 'um," he says into Chris' hair. Alex closes his eyes and for a moment Ross thinks everything is going to come to an end.

"Thought you wanted to fuck me?" Chris asks with a raised eyebrow.

Alex hums and gives Chris' cheek a quick kiss. "You first, dear."

"Them later?"

"Probably just Ross later," Alex says.

They both look at Ross and the man can't help but laugh and shake his head. He stays quiet after that, even though he'd love to express his interest. Ross adjusts the warm camera in his hand. With his left, he points at the forgotten lube next to the couch. Chris and Alex look at it.

"Ready for the main event?" Alex asks the camera with an almost crazed look before he picks up the bottle and gives it a vigorous shake.

Chris drapes himself over the back of the couch. Alex pops open the cap and squeezes out a good sized dollop. Alex stands with the tube still in his hand.

"Trott, you're gonna have to move. My knees are killing me," Alex complains.

Chris gives loud sigh and slides gracefully over top the couch. He stands up once he's on the other side.

"That was a slick move, Trout," Alex jokes.

"Thank you," Chris says in his nerd voice.

Ross follows the tallest of them around the couch. Chris rests his forearms along the top of it, head turned over his shoulder as far as he can. The lighting is better, Ross muses. The bedside lamps cast enough glow that Ross is able to position himself out of their way but still in view of the two men.

Behind Chris, Alex rubs the lube over the fingers of his right hand.

"Spread 'um," he says.

Chris does as he's told, inching his feet out until Alex fits snugly against him. Alex lets his slippery hand travel to Chris' ass where he teases at the hole there. Chris moans at the stretch, letting his eyes close. Alex watches his face intently. Ross thinks he might say something, but he doesn't.

When Alex moves his hand away, he recoats it with lube. This time he fists his own cock, covering it liberally. Chris licks his lips and Ross zooms the camera to get an up close shot. Alex drops the container to the floor before gradually pressing himself in. He grabs onto Chris' hips and tips his head back, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

Ross fills his lungs as quietly as he can. He shifts, jeans too tight. A quick look behind him shows the perfectly made bed. Ross debates with himself for a moment as he watches Alex give short, leisurely thrusts. He decides that it's worth it, and unbuttons and unzips his jeans. It's not the best, but he's used his left hand before. If he switches to his right, then the camera won't be held as steady, and he'd rather sacrifice the quality of masturbation over the quality of the video.

Once he gets his cock out of the constricting materials, Ross sits at the edge of the bed. He's able to focus on Alex and Chris once again. Their skin is starting to show a light shimmer of sweat. Ross stares at the way Alex pulls Chris to him on every push in. He's caught up in watching the wet slide of skin and listening to the little growl-like noises coming from Alex that he doesn't notice Chris' eyes on him until he finally looks over.

There's a pleased little smile on Chris' lips. Ross' hand on his cock stutters only for a moment. He holds Chris' gaze and pans the camera towards his face.

"That didn't take long," Chris manages to pant out.

Alex glances over and snorts a laugh. He says, "I knew he would give in eventually."

"Shut up," Ross mumbles, only slightly embarrassed.

"Can't resist jerkin' it to Trott getting plowed," Alex grits out. He emphasizes his point by giving a hard thrust that has Chris biting back a groan.

Alex's playful smirk falls. He leans over Chris and wraps an arm around his chest. His other hand moves down to the hard cock and covers it.

His voice is low, but Ross hears him ask how Chris' back is feeling. Ross can't make out the reply but sees Chris' lips move around a couple words. Apparently it's a good enough answer for Alex. The man straightens and gives a gleeful smack to Chris' ass. Ross bites his lip, trying not to jerk himself to completion, though his hand matches the speed of Alex's on Chris.

Alex stills his hips, still inside Chris. He holds onto Chris and waits as the shorter man stands fully. Alex's left arm crosses Chris' chest, his hand brushing upwards lazily until his fingers tap at Chris' lips. Chris opens his mouth and Alex slides his index and ring fingers in.

Ross has the urge get closer. His jeans fall down his legs but his underwear stay stuck at his thighs. He steps out of the jeans as he moves from the bed, all thoughts about how ridiculous he may look gone from his mind. He positions himself in front of Chris.

The camera screen is filled with his face. Chris' dark eyes stare back half-lidded, his mouth open as far as it will go, and Alex's fingers in almost to the last knuckle. There's saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth, and once Alex starts giving shallow thrusts, it makes a clear line down his chin and to his neck.

Ross swallows hard. His hand on his cock clutches the base for a moment before he withdraws it. He raises it and grasps Alex's to remove them from Chris' mouth only to replace the fingers with three of his own. They glide forward on top of Chris' tongue before dragging backwards over his teeth. Ross keeps them there, the sides rubbing against the silky softness of his cheeks. Chris bites down on them and Ross is hit with a sting of pleasure that travels down his arm and to his core.

It's harder to hold the camera still with Chris clamped tight to his fingers. Every push forward from Alex has Chris lurching a bit. The rhythm is starting to become more erratic. Ross tries to hold out the camera to get a better shot of Alex's face, but it's no use. The man has his forehead pressed against Chris' shoulder, his hair still looking great. So he stays focused on Chris, who stares right back at the camera. His glasses are sliding down his nose and he looks over top of them, tongue running along Ross' fingers.

Ross aches to touch himself. Instead, he leans back, tilting the camera down. He sees Alex's hand wrapped around Chris' leaking cock. He holds it still, and pre-cum dips down it. There's already a damp spot on the carpet and Ross knows one of them will have to give it a quick scrub or else they'll feel guilty about it later.

The pressure on his fingers is released as Chris opens his mouth. Ross pulls his hand back, letting Chris take deep breaths. Alex lifts his head and rests his chin on Chris' shoulder. He smiles at the camera.

"Better get back over here if you don't want to miss it," Alex says.

Ross hastily steps around to the side. Alex pushes Chris into his earlier position and gives a few more thrusts before pulling out. He takes his cock in hand and pumps himself until he cums with a groan, his seed splattering over Chris' back. Ross makes sure to capture each spurt of it until Alex sighs and lets go. His other hand is still on Chris.

Ross wonders if he should offer some sort of suggestion about what to do next but Alex pulls Chris up again, back to his chest. Alex jerks his hand quickly and Chris curves against him, a pleased mewl rushing out from parted lips. Ross holds the camera down but far enough away to get their faces within frame. Alex licks at Chris' ear before blowing air at it. Chris shakes a little and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Come for us, Trotty," Alex whispers.

It's enough to set Chris off. He tenses and Alex covers the head of his cock, catching the mess before it falls to the floor. Alex releases him, only to have Chris turn around and press their lips together. Ross gets a bit closer, thoroughly enjoying the necking despite feeling somewhat impatient.

After a full minute Ross clears his throat. Alex and Chris stop and look at him. Ross tries to give them a sign by pointing at the camera. Alex grins and reaches out for it. Ross quickly hits the pause button before the camera is taken from his grip.

"Alex, what-"

"Your turn, mate. Better get comfy."

Alex wipes his hand across his stomach before sliding it into the hand strap. Ross grimaces but he's ignored. Chris pushes at his chest.

"To the bed with you," Chris says.

Ross somewhat reluctantly climbs onto the bed. He sits with his back against the headboard. While Alex stands to the side, Chris pulls off the underwear Ross had forgotten was still halfway on. Chris flops down between his legs, giving a twist left and right, his back making a loud popping sound. With a crack of his knuckles Chris slaps his hands down onto Ross' thighs.

"Ready, sunshine?" Chris gives Ross a wink.

"I've pressed record," Alex informs them.

Chris sucks in a breath through his nose before he lowers his head. Ross' straining cock slides easily into his mouth. Chris takes as much as he can, left hand curling around the rest.

Ross can't stifle the moan that bubbles from his throat. He balls his hands, forcing his hips to stay still. He hadn't expected this sort of finish but like hell if he's going to complain. The warm, wet pressure engulfing his cock has him cursing. Alex gives a short laugh and Chris hums. Ross feels his face heat up so he closes his eyes.

Chris pulls off and tongues at the slit. Ross shudders, opening his eyes a sliver to watch as Chris runs his lips down the side, and then back up again. Chris places his mouth just over the head and tightens his grip. With expert flicks of his wrist he slides the foreskin steadily up and down.

Ross can't resist reaching out to thread his fingers through Chris' hair. He holds onto the strands loosely as Chris starts to suck and Ross knows he's right on the edge. He chances a look at Alex and the man gives him a mischievous glance. Ross tries to raise an eyebrow. Alex takes that as a sort of invitation and Ross gasps as his nipple is pinched. His shirt adds the extra friction that makes Ross push at Chris down farther. His head taps the solid wood behind him as he cums. Chris' stays on him, swallowing until there's none left.

When Chris lets him go he gives a thumbs up at the camera. Ross finds it particularly comical and laughs. He gives Chris' hair a ruffle and stretches his arms up.

"And cut," Alex says as he hits record and closes the side viewer.

He sets the camera on the nightstand. Everyone is silent, the whir of the air conditioner the only noise filling the space. Ross scrubs his hands over his face, feeling quite accomplished and satisfied. Chris takes off his glasses and hands them to Alex, who sets them next to the camera.

"I think we all preformed quite well," Chris says, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Think anyone heard us?" Ross asks.

"Probably everyone. Hotel rooms aren't known for having thick walls," Alex says. He rounds the bed and sits in the empty spot next to Ross.

"Shouldn't you two take a shower? Especially you, Trott."

Chris huffs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "I guess so." He sits up. "Come along, Alex."

"But I just got into bed."

"Let's go."

Chris slides to the floor and grabs Alex's arm. Ross watches with an amused look as Chris struggles to pull Alex from the bed. He tries his best to tempt Alex with many different promises and finally the man gives in.

Ross waits until the two are in the bathroom before finding his underwear. He puts them on and then removes his laptop from his bag. He sits back on the bed and connects the camera to the computer. The file finishes transferring within minutes and Ross is just about to open it when Chris sticks his head out from the doorway.

"Ross," Chris warns.

Ross pauses. He hesitantly closes the laptop and sets it on the floor. Ah well, he thinks. There's always tomorrow.

Credit to Tast_Senpai on Ao3