RSA Main Fiction by Title Fiction by Author Fiction by Partners Slash Subplots Familiar Faces Links


Triad, Part Six

Reply to Gale

Posted to the Roswell Slash list September 15,2000

TITLE: Triad (6/7)
AUTHOR: Gale Dumont
EMAIL: iphignia939@yahoo.com-I'm fully prepared for flames on this one.
DISCLAIMER: The WB would never do anything this much fun with them. Thank God for fanfic, huh?
SUMMARY: Liz and Max and Michael. Oh my.
RATING: NC-17. Hoo boy, is it ever.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Inspired, at least in part, by Sandy's "An Unlikely Trio", as well as a few nasty thoughts Miranda put in my head and my occasional love of UC. Also, this isn't related to any of my other stories. Purely a one-shot. (As if I could top this. Shyeah.)
SOUNDTRACK: "Addicted" by Faithless, Janet Jackson's "Velvet Rope" album (especially "Go Deep", "I Get So Lonely", "Got 'Till It's Gone" and "Rope Burn").
HUGS GO OUT TO: Miranda, as ever, who pre-read most of this for me. Top *this*, sis.



Later. How much later, Liz wasn't sure; looking at a clock would have meant lifting her head, and that would have involving moving, and that sounded entirely too much like effort just now. She was perfectly comfortable here, nestled between the two of them, her head resting on Michael's chest as Max's head rested on hers.

So, prompted a tiny voice in the back of her head. Did you like it?

Actually...yeah, she had. There was a part of her, deep inside, that was wailing about immorality and rampaging hormones, but she tried not to pay it too much attention; this was, after all, the same part of her that still muttered that there were no such things as aliens, proof to the contrary be damned.

"Ow," muttered a voice slightly above her head. She glanced up at Michael. "I am going to be uncomfortable for a week." She looked from him to Max and back again, and he lowered his voice. "I don't know how you do this all the time."

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. "We're sort of built for that, Michael," she said gently.

"Yeah, but still..." Michael spared a glance for the still sleeping figure resting against her. "He's beautiful," he said, and she blinked. She'd never heard that particular note in his voice before.

"I know." She ran her fingers though his hair, careful not to wake him. "One of the reasons I fell in love with him. Not the most important one, of course. Nowhere near."

He touched her shoulder, massaging it gently. "Thank you for this, Liz. I..."

"Ssh, Michael. It's all right." She half-turned and touched a finger to his lips. "You don't have to explain. After today it's just going to be a memory." She smoothed her finger over his lips slowly. They parted unconsciously, taking her finger into his mouth, and she grinned. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She turned the rest of the way around and lowered her head, her breath warm against his skin as she took his cock into her mouth.

"I don't think -- ohhh," he groaned, tangling his hands in her hair. Her mouth was warm and wet, engulfing him totally.

She pulled back slightly, letting him slip from between her lips. The shock of cold air against his skin dragged his attention back. "That's sort of the idea, Michael," she said, grinning again, and took him back into her mouth. She ran her tongue around the head of his cock and moved her hands to stroke him at the base. He leaned his head back and moaned.

There was a low rumble from the other end of the pile. "You're starting without me," Max murmured in her ear, nuzzling the small of her back. "That's cheating."

"Feel free to jump in," Michael gasped, tangling his hands in Liz's hair. "It's not like anyone's going anywhere." He took hold of the back of her head and guided her closer to him, urging his erection deeper into her mouth.

She froze, her shoulders stiffening, and did not look up at him.

"Word of advice, Michael," Max said, sliding up to press himself flat against Liz's back. "She hates that. Just let her do what she wants. You'll be a lot happier in the long run." He traced the path of her spine with his hand and down the curve of her ass, then down to her entrance. She moaned low in her throat and thrust backwards, trying to slip him inside her.

Suddenly, Michael pulled back, rolling slightly away from the two of them.

Liz lifted her head, her mouth red and wet in the late afternoon light. "What? What's wrong?"

"I want to see," he said, gesturing to them. "I want to watch you."

Liz and Max exchanged a glance. "Michael," he said, "this isn't about us."

"Except it is. It's like I said: the two of you seem unfinished without each other." He reached out and caressed Liz's cheek, stroked Max's mouth with his other hand. "Please," he murmured.

Liz looked at him for a long moment, then turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. Something less than a heartbeat and she was atop Max, straddling him. She lowered her head and slid her tongue along Max's lips, arching her back and pressing her breasts firmly against him. Max moaned softly and darted his tongue out, dueling with hers.

Michael leaned back and watched them. His hands rested loosely on his chest. His erection brushed against the low edge of his belly; he ignored it. Watching them was too much fun to be distracted by something as simple as a hard-on.

Liz slid down Max's body and swirled her tongue around one of his nipples, sucking it briefly into her mouth. Her teeth scraped the hardened bud. Max moaned and arched his back, pressing his body deeper into her mouth. She switched sides, laving the other nipple greedily. Michael could see perfect white teeth bite down gently on one brownish nub. In the same instant, she slid one hand down between her own thighs, fingers delving into the heat there.

"Michael," Max gasped, his eyes wide and unseeing. It felt too good to focus. "You...you have to feel this."

Michael froze. "I can't --"

"Sure you can." Liz lifted her mouth from Max's chest and looked at him, her eyes heavy-lidded. In the late afternoon light, her skin was honey-golden, shimmering and healthy. She looked very little like the pale, innocent woman he'd met so many months ago.

"Oh, no. No way. I'm not getting in the middle of this." His erection throbbed against his belly as he spoke, making a liar of him. He wanted to be in the middle of this, the bottom of it, riding them both until they collapsed.

"Michael, you're already in the middle of this." Liz threw her head back, her eyes half-glazed, and looked at the other man. "You said we could share, and now you don't want to. That's not fair."

"You've got to feel this, Michael. There's nothing in the world..." soft, eager moan "...as glorious as this. *Nothing*."

A long pause. Then, slowly, Michael crawled across the bed and rested his hands alongside Max's temple, pressing his lips to his friend-lover's forehead and concentrating.

Contact.

/Hot. Warm. Tight. Silky. Oh, God, yes. Eager and sweet-smelling, sweet-tasting. Spicy, musky --/

/Oh, Jesus, she was clenching her muscles, clasping her firmly inside her. His muscles were tightening, preparing for release. But not yet, not yet, she wasn't ready --/

Michael groaned aloud, throwing his head back. One hand slid from Max's temple to Liz's, opening himself to her. Oh, oh God, he had to have both of them inside him right now, before he exploded --

Contact.

/So wet, so wet and he was so hard, and it all made sense when he was inside her. She could no more leave him than she could stop the flow of her blood with a thought. Every thrust was pleasure, every spasm of her muscles drew him closer to release./

Soft little crooning noises were breaking Liz's throat. The veins in her throat were throbbing visibly; the muscles in her thighs played a sensuous rhythm of tight-loose, tight-loose-tight. Max pressed his body full against hers, the lines and planes highlighted by the sweat pouring down his body. Christ, they were beautiful -- sleek, golden angels come to glory in flesh. Michael bit back a sob.

/Oh, God, oh God, yes --/

/Mine mine mine don't leave/

Thrusting savagely now, sure to leave bruises along Liz's hips. She groaned and clawed at his shoulders, leaving pale red trails down golden skin. She moaned gutterly and tightened her thighs around Max's hips.

Michael could feel phantom bruises ghosting their way along his hips and thighs, the thin red welts on his shoulders. He sucked in a harsh breath, tears coursing down his cheeks. Not all of them were his.

But it was too much too fast. Max thrust savagely; Liz moved with him, her body clasping his with sweet violence. She reached down and bit at his shoulder, blood trickling down his collarbone to pool in the hollow of his throat.

/Don't ever leave don't ever stop loving me/

/Never never never/

Bodies froze. Nerves reached the peak. Climax tore through them both at the same moment in a fiery wave. They collapsed, still joined together. Michael fell beside them, exhausted but not spent. The pleasure thrumming through his veins wasn't his; neither was the orgasm.

For a long moment, the only sound you could hear in the bedroom was harsh, heavy breathing. Then:

"Fuck," Michael said softly, staring up at the ceiling.

Liz rolled onto her side and nipped at Max's jaw. "Looks like someone still wants to play," she murmured, nodding at Michael. Her gaze lit on his erection. "You feel up for another round yet, baby?"

Max glanced over at Michael and grinned wickedly. "Always," he rasped, and ducked his head. Michael's cock slid between his lips eagerly, bumping the back of his throat.

Michael arched his back and groaned, letting his head fall back against the bed. "Slut," he gasped, stroking Max's hair. Slightly damp silk.

"You have no idea," Liz said softly, and sucked at his nipples back and forth, one then the other. One hand slid down to caress his balls, the palm touching Max's cheek gently. "But you will."

Michael sucked in a deep breath and resisted the urge to come.

Tomorrow suddenly seemed a hell of a long way off.

Continue to the Next Part of the Story

Return to Top