𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮

You haven’t driven this car in weeks, you honestly miss it. The moment you ease out of the place and onto the road, the GR86 speaks in a different language. The steering feels tighter through your hands. The nose responds instantly, better, like every small input now matters.

The first corner you take tells you everything. The body stays composed, weight transferring with crisp precision instead of that soft lean from before. The brakes bite harder too, firm under your foot, immediate and reassuring as you drive faster.

Meanwhile, Nico pushes himself away from the Shelby and wanders toward the workbench against the wall, casually settling against it. He crosses one ankle over the other and folds his arms, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who just spent the last hour planning an illegal engine swap.

His mouth twitches. “I’m surprised he didn’t beg to use the RX-7 instead.”

Rigo watches the garage entrance for another second before the shutters roll back down. “Probably got intimidated ‘cause it’s an oil guzzler.”

He starts walking toward the workbench. “Also, what’s this I found?” He takes a folder from the side, showing the documents inside. Your registrations.

Nico glances at it, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You took his registrations?”

Rigo flips through the pages, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “His registrations?” He holds the papers up between two fingers. “It has your name in it.”

Nico doesn’t say anything, but he stands straighter, hands curling on the edge of the table, and mouth curving into a faint smile with shameless confidence.

“You are one cunning, manipulative bastard, you know that?” Rigo says, his voice full of amusement as he steps closer. “I mean, really? Registering his car under your name?” He stops just inside the other’s personal space.

Nico suppresses any visible reaction, already knowing this conversation will be another game of control between them. “It’s practical.”

“...Practical,” Rigo repeats, dragging the word out like he’s tasting bullshit. He plants one hand on the workbench beside Nico’s hip, leaning in just enough to make the space between them feel charged. “That’s what we’re calling it?” 

Nico shrugs, unbothered. His gaze flicks toward the garage exit where you disappear. “Someone like him isn’t supposed to afford that car. Minimum wage, cheap apartment, no believable reason to suddenly own a tuned sports car.”

His dark eyes slide back to Rigo. “I just made the legal process unquestionable.”

Rigo huffs a laugh. “Yeah, that’s a reasonable excuse, I'll give you that.” His grin widens, “Funny thing is...” He remembers the first car he bought years ago, the memory flashes briefly behind his eyes, “You pulled the exact same move on me.”

“That Dodge Viper,” he continues, voice rougher around the edges, “that’s when I realized owing you favors gets personal.” 

“And?” Nico’s smirk is downright sinful. Provocative, the exact expression of a man who knows he’s guilty and doesn’t care.

“And,” Rigo says, moving in until there’s barely any room left between them, “I know exactly what it all means.” The registration papers are tossed aside, forgotten.

His other hand comes up, bracing itself on the opposite side of the workbench, boxing Nico in. The proximity is undoubtedly intimate. 

Nico doesn’t bother trying to move away. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying Rigo with the same nonchalant composure. “It just means I protect my investments.”

“That’s cute.” Rigo shakes his head, and a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You legally own his car,” his voice sounds conversational, as if the topic isn’t a big deal. “You bankroll the parts. You control the liabilities. Hell, if he starts winnin’ enough, you practically own his whole career.”

The implications hang between them. You’re racking up debts without fully realizing the totality of it. Soon enough, Nico might as well own you.

Nico’s smile turns dangerous, dark eyes half-lidded and intense. “I’m simply making sure the money I’m spending on him is worthwhile.”

Rigo’s eyes narrow accusingly. He leans even closer, their noses almost touching, breath ghosting across Nico’s lips. “Being a ruthless businessman really does run in your family, huh?” 

They’re close enough for Nico to make out the tiny scar near Rigo's jaw. Close enough for Rigo to see the darker ring around Nico’s irises beneath the garage lights.

“Don’t make it sound like you didn’t benefit from his wins.” Nico counters, not backing down.

“Oh, I did. Never hid that fact.” Rigo’s hand finds Nico’s waist. The touch is entirely too familiar to be casual, entirely too natural to be new.

Nico’s gaze drops briefly to the hand before lifting back to meet Rigo’s eyes. Neither of them looks away even as it starts to rain again outside.

“You know,” Rigo says, “he could technically pay you back now thanks to me.” He looks at the other knowingly. “But you don’t actually want the debt gone.”

For the first time, Nico’s composure falters when Rigo moves forward til there’s no space left between them. Nico can feel the solid planes of Rigo’s body against him, feel the warmth radiating from him, feel every breath he takes. Every small movement brings them fractionally closer, neither willing to be the one who yields ground first.

“You like keeping strings attached.” Rigo leans even closer, voice dropping lower. “You just wanna keep a new toy around.” Someone exactly like you, obedient enough to agree with Nico’s whims and interesting enough to make it entertaining more than once. Unlike Rigo, who refuses to go down without a fight.

Nico’s smirk returns instantly, sly and challenging. “Sounds like jealousy.”

Rigo laughs under his breath, the sound is warm and raspy. “Why would I be jealous?” His fingers flex against Nico’s waist, tracing the curve of it. The movement is absent-mindedly possessive.

“I already got my turn.” His mouth drifts toward Nico’s neck, lips grazing his skin. “And I can have you anytime I want.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Nico leans back before Rigo’s teeth can make contact.

The movement feels more teasing than rejecting, an invitation wrapped in defiance. It encourages him, Rigo follows easily. “You keep provoking me since you’ve arrived today,” his grin turns wicked as he glares at him, “And now you don’t like that you’re losing.”

The accusation isn’t entirely unfair. Nico has been doing it all afternoon, distracting him, standing a little too close, and acting like he has no idea why Rigo is becoming increasingly irritated. The mood shifts, but the teasing remains. A shared history. Old habits, old memories.

Normally, Nico wouldn’t have let this happen, being the one at a disadvantage now. He glances once toward the closed entrance. “He’ll be back soon.”

Rigo’s smile only deepens. “So?” His hand tightens just slightly at Nico’s waist, fingers roaming slowly over the fabric of his shirt. “Let him watch.”

“Outrageous.” Nico lets out a chuckle, filled with disbelief and amusement, yet he still doesn’t push him away.

“I don’t see the problem with that,” Rigo’s words are quiet and low. His grip shifts, hand sliding around to Nico’s back, pulling him in. “Matter of fact, I’d love to see his reaction.”

Nico exhales through his nose, but makes no move to resist. “Have some self-control.” His hands remain on the edge of the workbench. “You’re insufferable,” he says, but no displeasure accompanies his tone.

“You started this,” Rigo presses closer, lips hovering just above Nico’s. “And I know you’ll let me fuck you anyway,” he murmurs, lips curling into an arrogant smirk.

“You wish I’d let you,” Nico lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying this. “But I think you look better squirming beneath me instead.”

“That so?” Rigo’s fingers dig into Nico’s hips, pulling him even closer until there’s no mistaking the heat growing between them. “Then prove it.”

Nico’s smirk widens. He studies Rigo’s face, taking in the dark eyes gleaming with challenge, the slight flush creeping up his neck. He lifts a hand slowly, brushing his fingers along Rigo’s jaw before his grip moves to the back of his head. “Make me,” he dares, voice a husky murmur that carries an undeniable temptation. 

Rigo’s breath catches, eyes fluttering briefly before refocusing with renewed intensity, and he closes the remaining distance. Their lips meet, and the kiss deepens immediately, tongues tangling in a familiar dance.

Waiting for the pizza took longer than the back-and-forth drive. By the time you come back, the rain has gotten stronger. The new suspension absorbs the uneven road, and the new brakes scrub speed effortlessly even if the pavement is wet.

The warm smell of melted cheese and meat fills the cabin as you guide the GR86 outside the garage.

You kill the engine, balancing the two hot pizza boxes in one hand as you rush to the other side, where the bay doors are half open.

“Oi, why did you close the shutters? You wanna leave me out in the rain—” you pause, eyes widening. Your pulse is hammering for reasons that have nothing to do with driving fast. 

They’re standing close. Too close. Too intimate. 

Then Nico’s gaze lifts past Rigo’s shoulder and lands on you. His hands, still tangled in Rigo’s hair, fingers tightening for a second before loosening. His expression remains calm, head tilted just enough to keep the space charged with unresolved sexual tension. Their appearance is slightly disheveled, their faces are inches apart, and it has your mind running wild.

He doesn’t even look surprised. The faint curve of his mouth says he noticed you the moment the GR86 rolled outside.

Rigo has him pinned against the edge of the workbench, hands around him in a possessive way. Without breaking eye contact with you, he places a hand against Rigo’s chest and gives him a light push, not enough to be rejection but enough to reclaim his personal space.

Honestly, looking back, it probably should’ve been obvious. It explains way too many things, the way Rigo somehow always knows where Nico is, the way Nico lets Rigo get away with things that would’ve earned literally anyone else a punch to the face. So Vera was right after all.

“Took you long enough,” Nico says, pushing off the bench and walking toward you like nothing about what you just saw requires explanation.

Rigo straightens, crossing his arms with zero shame, tattooed arms flexing as he leans back against the workbench now. “Got bored waiting for your slow ass to come back.”

“Should I leave to give you guys some privacy then?” you ask unsure, cheeks already growing warm. Why the hell are you the one embarrassed when they’re the ones who got caught?

Nico doesn’t even look up from the pizza box as he takes it from your hands and opens the lid to inspect the toppings. “No,” he replies casually. “We were just finishing up our conversation.”

“Right...” you mutter. “Conversation.” The word drips with skepticism. You set the second pizza box down on the nearest workbench and fold your arms. You avoid meeting their eyes. “So am I supposed to ignore what I just saw?”

“Yeah.” Rigo answers without hesitation, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches your expression. “Unless you want in?”

Your brain attempts to assemble a response and completely fails. “I—what—?!” Your face burns red. How are you even supposed to respond to that? I mean, you’re not exactly opposed to the idea... Oh God, you can’t believe you’re seriously considering it.

Rigo immediately starts laughing. “Hah! You should see how stupid you look right now.”

“S-Shut the fuck up! Have some shame!” You turn toward Nico for help.

Big mistake, because he’s standing there already halfway on the first slice of pizza, looking entirely too amused by your embarrassment. The faint smile on his face tells you he’s enjoying this almost as much as Rigo is.

You eventually give up and sit at the workbench because the pizza is getting cold, and arguing with these two is pointless, they’ll twist reality itself before admitting anything.

Surprisingly, it doesn't feel awkward afterwards, even if you can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding on something that existed long before you came along. Maybe it’s because they’re so unabashed about it, and after spending so much time around them, you’re beginning to realize this dynamic has always been there. 

Nico leans back against the couch as if the weather itself is part of the discussion while his eyes track the rain through the opening. 

“We should go out in this,” he says, not as a suggestion so much as a decision that has already been made somewhere in his head.

You glance toward the half-open shutters, then back at him. “In this awful storm?” you ask, watching another wave of water spill down the metal outside like a curtain.

“Especially in this storm,” Nico replies, “Rain doesn’t cancel anything that matters,” and then finally looks back at you. “It just exposes how good your driving skills really are.” 

“Can I digest the food first? I’m too full to move,” you complain, stalling because you really don’t want to drive fast in the rain and possibly lose your life by slamming into a wall.

Rigo chuckles, “grown ass man whining like a child by the way.”

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face.

Nico folds his arms. “The next time you have to push a car in bad weather isn’t going to happen on a practice day,” he says. “The first time you hydroplane shouldn’t be during a race or a police chase.”

“That’s a fair point,” you admit. Getting arrested is better than a chase in these conditions. 

You just finished an entire night of training in the rain, and it was the worst experience ever considering you hydroplaned. You could’ve died, and since you’re a bit traumatized now, Nico invited you to stay the night at his place because it’s closer.

The two of you head toward the door leading into the house. Outside, the night has settled into an unusual stillness after the storm, the cool air carrying the lingering scent of rain-soaked earth.

You walk beside Nico in comfortable silence, the events of the night replay themselves in your mind, your thoughts keep circling back to something else. 

Ever since you walked in on them carrying those pizzas, you’ve found yourself replaying that image over and over despite your best efforts not to. It explains far too many things in hindsight, the familiarity between them with the kind of trust that can only exist after years of knowing someone.

The curiosity nags at you long enough that, eventually, you decide to ask. You clear your throat, glancing sideways at Nico as the door closes behind you.

“Can’t believe I never noticed that you and Rigo are...” The sentence trails off awkwardly, mostly because you aren’t entirely sure what word you’re looking for.

Partners? Dating? Friends with benefits? Situationship? None of them seem to fit what you’ve witnessed.

Nico doesn’t look surprised about your question. The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly, as though he’d been expecting the question ever since you caught them.

“We never really bothered defining it.” The answer comes so naturally that you believe him.

He shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets as you follow him inside. “He’s free to do whatever he wants.” He glances at you over his shoulder, “and so am I.”

You nod. Oddly enough, that makes perfect sense, considering your own relationship with him has never exactly followed conventional rules either.

It isn’t all that different from what you’ve come to expect from him. Nico has never seemed interested in putting labels on things, preferring to let people exist in his life without trying to force them into neat little categories. 

Still, you can’t help smiling. “You know, it’s actually kind of funny.” A short laugh escapes you. “Your connection with him has lasted longer than most marriages last these days.” 

The faintest smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I guess you’re right.” 

The house is peacefully quiet when the two of you make it upstairs. Nico walks ahead with the same unhurried pace he always carries, one hand sliding casually into his pocket before he nods toward the hallway. “The guest room is the second door on the left.”

You follow his gaze. “Got it.” You barely manage two steps before you feel fingers wrap gently around your wrist.

“Hmm?” You stop and turn to him.

Nico doesn’t say anything, he gives your hand the slightest tug, redirecting you to the door into his room. You follow automatically, your pulse picking up from the implications.

When the door clicks softly shut behind you. Your throat suddenly feels dry. Your mind begins filling in possibilities faster than common sense can catch up. He lets go of your hand, and you’re left standing in the middle of the room, dumbfounded.

“Tonight was fun.” He says, walking over to the glass windows leading to the balcony and closing the curtains. 

You cross your arms as you watch him move. “Getting the life scared out of me was fun?”

“For me it was.” He replies, clearly entertained.

You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

His eyes settle back on you, the teasing fades with each step he takes towards you. “One day,” he says, his voice carrying the same certainty he brings to everything he believes in, “I want you to line up beside me and know that if you beat me—”

A faint smile appears, “You earned it.”

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. Ever since you entered the underground scene, that finish line has existed somewhere impossibly far ahead of you. Nico has always seemed untouchable, a benchmark rather than a rival, someone you chased but never truly expected to catch.

Yet hearing him say it feels like an encouragement and a prophecy at the same time.

Your chest feels tight. “I...” You trail off, laughing softly because you don’t know how else to respond. What he just said is something you’ve always wanted, you want to become the driver who can make Nico look over from the next lane and wonder if this is finally the race he might lose in.

“You’re setting the bar pretty high,” you state, giving him a genuine smile.

“I know.” His smile grows enough to soften the edges of his usually unreadable expression. “And I think you’ll get there.”

Your heart has survived near collisions, police chases, six-figure races, and nearly hydroplaning across an entire highway, but somehow, those simple words affect you far more than any of them.

Nico studies your reaction before a small smirk forms on his lips. “You were shaking back there.”

Heat instantly creeps into your face. “I almost sent us into oncoming traffic. We could’ve died.”

“But we didn’t.” He closes the remaining distance between you until you’re standing only a breath apart. Close enough that you can see the tiny reflections from the bedside lamp dancing in his dark brown eyes, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

“You were terrified,” he says, with a hint of amusement. “It was kind of adorable.”

You scoff in the most offended way. “I was having a near-death experience.”

“But you still did everything I told you.” His hand finds your face, thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“For that, I think you deserve a reward.”

Before you can think of a response, he leans in the rest of the way. The kiss is slow enough that it leaves no room for surprise, giving you every chance to pull away if you want to.

You never do of course, leaning into him and angling your face to deepen the kiss. Your arms automatically wrap around his neck, and he responds by pressing closer, the lines of his body meeting yours as his free hand wraps around your waist.

Nico guides you backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. He kneels between your legs, the weight of his body settling over you. This reminds you of the first time you two did this, which felt like ages ago.

His hands make quick work of your shirt, peeling it off your torso. The cool air hits your bare skin, raising goosebumps along your arms and chest. You watch him sit up, taking his jacket and shirt off, the fabric sliding off his shoulders to reveal the defined muscles of his body.

When he leans back down, you grab his shoulder and pull him into another kiss, teeth grazing your lips as you push your tongue against his. His fingers tighten in your hair as he grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel the outline of his cock already stiffening in his pants. Your hands roam over his skin, tracing the muscles on his back.

He moves lower, dragging his teeth along your collarbone, his fingers cup around you through your pants, squeezing right before he pops the button of your jeans open. His hand slips beneath the waistband of your underwear, and the first brush of his fingertips against your erection makes your breath catch. The heat of his hand wrapping around your length makes your hips twitch, your pulse already thrumming beneath his touch.

You gasp as his grip tightens, sliding with practiced ease over you. He watches your reactions knowingly, already aware of what riles you up, dark eyes glinting with lust as he strokes you slowly. His other hand moves to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You’re always so eager,” Nico murmurs knowingly, his voice low with barely restrained desire.

You nod, a soft moan of confirmation leaving your mouth. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and you dart your tongue out instinctively, licking at the pad seductively while you stare into his eyes. His breathing hitches slightly, you watch his pupils dilate, the intensity of his gaze as he watches your mouth.

“That’s right,” he whispers sensually, releasing your chin only to undo the button of his pants with a quick flick of his fingers. “You know what I want.” 

Your tongue darts out again, wetting your lips in preparation as Nico tugs his pants down. He moves away, resting against the headboard with his legs spread invitingly, watching you position yourself between his thighs. He runs his fingers through your hair, his grip firm as he guides you closer. His musk surrounds you, clean sweat, subtle cologne, something uniquely him. 

You don’t hesitate, lips parting to take him into your mouth, your tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as you slowly descend to savor the taste. Nico groans, his fingers tightening in your hair as you swallow around him, his hips flexing slightly to push deeper.

“That’s it,” he says in approval. “Good boy.” The praise sends a shiver down your spine, he didn’t praise you like this last time.

His free hand grips the sheets as you suck him, bobbing your head while sucking. You can feel every vein on your tongue, feel every twitch, and the subtle noises he’s making are urging you on. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you in a rhythm that pleases him. 

His breathing grows heavier as you swirl your tongue around the tip, applying just the right amount of suction going down while you look into his eyes.

Suddenly, you hear the door open behind your bent-over form, and you stiffen, face flushing red even more. 

Nico’s grip on your hair keeps your head down when your try to pull away. His cock remains in your mouth, pulsing against your tongue, but his attention shifts to acknowledge the newcomer.

“You started already?” Rigo says, casually stepping into the room like he owns the place and locking the door behind him. He watches Nico thrust into your mouth for a second, admiring the glorious view.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Nico replies wryly, giving him a knowing smirk.

You hear Rigo chuckle, the sound is amused but edged with something darker. “If you didn’t want me here, you shouldn’t have texted me to come and then purposely left the door open.” He takes his shirt off while strolling towards you.

Then you feel the bed dip. Rigo’s presence looms behind you, his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down just enough to expose your ass. Nico remains seated against the headboard, still buried deep in your throat.

“He’s good at that, ain’t he?” his rough hands run all over your exposed skin, watching Nico fuck your mouth. 

“Very,” Nico agrees, eyes meeting yours while his hips thrust into your mouth. His fingers flex in your hair, guiding your movements with the same ease he navigates every race with. 

“He doesn’t listen, but takes direction just fine.” Rigo grins wickedly, “his annoying mouth is more useful like that.”

One hand reaching around to wrap around your length, thumb rubbing the sensitive head and smearing the precum already beading there. “And look at this, already dripping for us like a fuckin’ slut.”

“Nngghh—” You moan around Nico, the vibrations in your throat traveling to cock, making his breathing stutter. His grip tightens as he pushes himself deeper into your throat, almost making you choke. Rigo’s rough fingers work you in slow, teasing strokes, his free hand gripping your bare ass hard enough to bruise.

“Damn,” Rigo says while hunching over your back, his hot breath tickling your ear as he strokes you faster. “Bet you’re thinking about how full you’re gonna be, huh? Both of us stretching you out.”

Nico finally releases you, letting you pull back and breathe. You sit up panting and grab Rigo’s wrist to slow him down. You glare at him over your shoulder, “W-Why am I always the one being bullied like this?” You turn to Nico, “You’re both assholes!” 

Nico lets out a low chuckle at your sudden reluctance, his fingers trace your jaw, your lips glistening with spit and precum. “You seemed to like it a minute ago.”

Rigo smirks against your nape, teeth nipping at your skin. “Pretendin’ you don’t like it ‘cause I’m here?” He presses himself against your back while his grip on your cock tightens, reminding you that you can’t hide your arousal. “It’s too late to feel embarrassed now.”

Your body responds before your mind can fully process it, twitching in his hand, your ass pressing back against him involuntarily. You gasp, feeling the heat of his body and his desires even through his jeans.

With a hand pulling your hair, Rigo tugs your head at an angle where he can kiss you, stubble grazing your skin. It’s hot, demanding, and messy when he pushes his tongue into your mouth, the taste of Nico still lingers on you, but he doesn’t seem to mind. This is the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy and begging for more.

All the while, you feel Nico’s lips on your neck, leaving marks on your tender flesh. His hands roam your chest, fingers tweaking your nipples in a way that makes your back arch and cling to him for balance.

Your attempt to save face was in vain. Why is it always you being subjected to such treatment? It’s unfair, but part of you can’t deny that having their lavish attention solely on you feels like the fulfillment of a fantasy you never dared admit out loud. Yet your thoughts are hopelessly conflicted, by the way they’re determined to pull you in opposite directions, praising and degrading you at the same time.

When you pull apart, Rigo pushes you back down between Nico’s thighs. He strips your pants off completely, giving one hard slap on your ass and making you audibly gasp. He chuckles at your reaction, his hand rubbing where he spanked you, soothing the sting as his other hand dips between your legs.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunts, pressing a single lube-slicked finger against your hole, applying enough pressure to make your muscles tighten in anticipation while Nico guides you back down onto him when you try to speak.

“I’m going in first since you started without me,” He says to Nico, who pushes himself back into your mouth.

“Mhm,” Nico hums, still reclining comfortably on the bed, his hand lazily stroking your head as you swallow around him. “Not my fault you took so long to get here,” he tells Rigo, voice casual despite the fire in his eyes. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, a silent command keeping you where you are.

Rigo sinks a finger into you, testing the resistance and your muscles clench around the intrusion. After a while, he adds another, curling them slightly as he scissors them apart, drawing a muffled groan from your throat. His free hand grips your hip, his blunt nails digging in just shy of painful. Finally, he adds a third one when you get used to it, twisting it inside, stretching you enough to make your breathing falter when he finds your prostate.

“Hmmm...” You moan around Nico’s cock, the vibration sends a shudder through his body. He tightens his grip on your hair, thrusting his hips up slightly to push it all the way in and almost making you gag. Your nose brushing against the trimmed patch of hair on him.

“Such a good boy,” he breathes out, watching your face contort with pleasure and desperation when you look up at him with bleary eyes. He lets you off, giving you a break before grabbing your face with both hands and hunching down to kiss you again. He doesn’t care even if he can taste himself on your tongue.

Meanwhile, Rigo pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty and needy. You feel him shuffle behind you, taking everything off before you hear the slick sound of him coating his length with lube before he lines himself up with your entrance, pressing forward slowly.

“Ahhh!!” You gasp, muscles fluttering around his girth when he applies steady pressure, working himself in inch by inch.

He groans, the sound rough as he sinks deeper. “Fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, savoring the tight warmth your body offers, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. The stretch burns, a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you moaning.

Nico watches your expression with dark, hungry eyes, his grip on your hair tightening as Rigo finally sheathes himself fully inside you. To him, you look incredibly hot right now, your eyes fluttering close, mouth agape as breathless noises slip past your swollen lips, your face flustered, hair tussled, body quivering and covered in sweat.

Rigo only gives you a few moments before he starts moving slowly. Nico gives you another kiss before pushing you back down on all fours, and you open your mouth instinctively as if you’ve been conditioned to do so, lapping at him from the base up before taking him in your mouth.

You feel Nico slip down your throat again, his fingers tightening in your hair to control the pace, moving your head the way he wants, pushing deeper when he knows you can handle taking more.

At the same time, Rigo begins to set a punishing rhythm behind you, each thrust snapping your body forward towards Nico, impaling you on both ends. The air in the room grows heavy with sweat, every sound raw and unfiltered, the slap of skin against skin mingling with your muffled whimpers and gurgled moans. 

“Fuck yeah,” Rigo growls, his hands sliding up to grip your shoulders. He pulls you back onto him harder, using your shoulder as leverage. 

You feel wrecked already, Rigo’s thick girth splitting you open. His pace becomes relentless, each push punches the air from your lungs, tip grazing your prostate each time. You try to breathe around Nico’s length, but the force of Rigo’s movements makes it nearly impossible to focus. Your arms shake uncontrollably, fingers digging into the sheets, barely holding yourself up under their combined assault.

Nico gasps above you, his hips rolling to push deeper into your throat. His free hand strokes down your cheek before gripping your jaw, holding you still as he thrusts. Drool leaks down the corners of your mouth while you let him.

“That’s it, ah...keep looking at me,” he moans, staring into your teary eyes. “You’re doing so well for us.”

“Look at you,” Rigo groans, “Taking both of us like a proper slut.” One hand moving to grip your neglected cock that’s been steadily leaking the entire time, twitching needily in his grasp. 

It’s filthy, you should feel like a cheap whore submitting to them and getting used like this, but the pleasure you’re feeling is so intense that you don’t care anymore. All you know is that you love the feeling, love every second of their attention and you don’t want it to end.

When Rigo hits that spot inside you repeatedly, your knees nearly give out, and all it takes is a few firm strokes to your length for you to cum. Your body convulses, back arching, eyes fluttering close as you spill your load to the sheets beneath you. Rigo’s harsh grip continues to milk your orgasm from you until you go soft.

“So good...” Nico gasps, plunging deeper. Your throat constricts around him, and your moans make it feel so much better for him.

Your body feels oversensitive from your sudden orgasm, you feel spent, overwhelmed, yet they won’t let up. If anything, they feel more punishing to your hypersensitive body. Each snap of Rigo’s hips drives his shaft deeper inside you, each movement making your muscles clamp around him instinctively, causing you to whimper around Nico, and tears start falling down your cheeks. The stretch is familiar now, your body adjusting to his presence even as your muscles still flutter around them in aftershocks from your orgasm.

After what feels like ages, you feel Nico throbbing on your tongue, and his breathing gets heavier. His eyes locked on your face and your reactions, sweat dripping from his temples.

A guttural groan escapes him as he nears his own climax. He throws his head back, muscles tensing, and finally his cum spills hot into your mouth. You choke slightly, his cum coating your tongue and spilling past your lips as he holds you still. You swallow instinctively, but he doesn’t pull out immediately, making you take every last drop.

“You took that well,” he pants, stroking your hair as he slowly softens in your mouth. When he pulls out, you finally allow your arms to give out. You collapse forward, leaning onto his thigh as he runs his fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. “Good boy.”

“Yeah, a good little slut,” Rigo smirks behind you, “but this is just the start.” With a hand around your stomach, he pulls you up against his chest. His grip on your waist is ironclad, holding you upright while he shifts position behind you.

You’re too sensitive now, every touch is almost painful, making your body twitch.

You squirm, oversensitive and exhausted, but his hands tighten instantly, keeping you in place. “C’mon, you can take it,” he chuckles darkly, dragging his blunt nails down your sides. Every touch is overwhelming, yet you crave it anyway. The friction burns, but the way he jerks inside you drowns out the pain. You can feel his toned muscles against your back again, and with this new angle, he rams your prostate head-on. 

“Ah—fuck!” The impact sends a sharp shock through your body, your breath stuttering as he drives into you again and again. Each shove slowly turns your brain into mush, the overstimulation is insane.

“Still…so fuckin’...tight,” Rigo pants against the side of your neck, biting the flesh before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue. His hips roll forward, sinking him deeper inch by inch, and the stretch of him is exquisite.

By the time he’s close, your mind is already gone, your head falling backwards on his shoulder. You feel his movements falter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he groans. His cock swells inside you, as he reaches his climax. Hot cum floods into you, filling you as he pushes his hips forward to bury himself completely. He stays like that for a moment, panting against your shoulder, a bit of his release drips from your hole.

Rigo’s sweat-slicked skin sticking to yours as he exhales heavily against your back. “Ahh, that was good,” he mutters, voice thick with satisfaction. He pulls out slowly, his cum spilling out of you. You would have collapsed forward if he hadn’t held you up.

He smirks, pulling you into his lap instead, “You always look like you’re about to pass out every time you get fucked.” He chuckles, “As if I ain’t the one doin’ all the work.” 

You don’t even have the energy to respond to his teasing.

Meanwhile, Nico is reclining over the pillows, watching you two while lazily stroking himself, and from the way he’s looking at you, you know this is far from over. It’s going to be a long night.

♡♡♡♡♡

And you were right because after letting you rest, they switched places.

You feel so incredibly filthy, covered in sweat and your own spent smeared on your abdomen. You thought that since Nico had been giving you praises all night, he would have been nicer and more merciful. But no, he might be a bit worse because now you’re on your back, practically sobbing as he drives into you with slow but deep thrusts, reaching spots you didn’t know were possible.

His hands are on the back of your knees, pushing your legs up near your chest. It’s such an embarrassing position that exposes you completely to his gaze. As if it’s not degrading enough to have Rigo cum on your face and forbid you from wiping it off. Maybe this is masochism because feeling this pathetically helpless and vulnerable shouldn’t feel so damn good.

Even so, you mindlessly turn your head to mouth at Rigo’s half-hard cock, sloppily lapping at the tip with a dazed expression and whimpering every time Nico pushes forward roughly. A mix of saliva and cum dripping down the corner of your mouth.

“I think we broke him,” Rigo grins, admiring how pretty this version of you is right now, pliant and obedient without your usual swagger and unable to argue. He runs a hand through your sweat-dampened hair, his touch both gentle and possessive, given what he put you through all night.

“He loves it,” Nico mutters, and he’s right because somewhere during the entire session you were begging for more despite yourself. You’re moaning something incoherently, you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. Please slow down? Please more? You have no idea. He rams you one last time before he shoots his load inside, filling you once more. 

“Nngh...” Your whole body shudders as heat floods inside you, his thick length still pulsing as he stays buried deep. His hands remain on the back of your knees, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, staring at you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, the sound rough and satisfied. You’re trapped beneath him, still pinned, your muscles tight and fluttering as if milking him for more. It’s a delicious kind of discomfort, the way your body struggles to accept him even as he softens inside you. One hand drags along your inner thigh almost absently while he breathes deep, regaining his composure.

♡♡♡♡♡

You were almost asleep, face buried into a pillow, your body sore and exhausted. Too tired to care that you feel sticky and dirty until Rigo’s rough hand slides across your hip. You’re a fool to think it was finally over when they left you to rest the second time.

“Already out of it, huh?” His breath is hot against your ear as he nips your earlobe. “That’s cute. But we’re not done with you yet.” His arm loops around your waist, pulling you back against him so your ass grinds against his growing erection.

You don’t consider yourself to be small and light for a man, but the way Rigo can pick you up and make it look effortless is concerning. His hands slide under you, lifting you like you weigh nothing at all. 

The second he pulls you upright, you feel his cock, thick and already hard against your ass, pressing into the slickness he left behind from before. He shifts his grip, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place while the other hand comes up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he orders, voice low. He grins wide when he sees the fucked-out look on your face, sees the way your breath hitches when he rubs the tip of his cock against your ass, smearing the fluids seeping out of you. 

Nico kneels in front of you, Your body trembles as Rigo’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he holds you against him. Nico’s hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, his other hand still teasing your length, coaxing you to hardness again. 

“You can take both of us now, can you?” He murmurs, breath warm against your ear, but the question sends a fresh tremor through you.

It turns out the first couple of rounds were only to loosen you up to take both of them.

Rigo’s cockhead prods your hole, still slick from the lube and their combined cum release still seeping from you. The movement makes him slide against your entrance, teasing without breaching.

You let out a shaky breath, still trying to process how they can keep going when you’re already ruined. Nico’s fingers wipe the smear of cum on your cheek affectionately. “Easy,” he murmurs. “We’ll go slow. You’ll take us both, I know you can.”

Behind you Rigo shifts, adjusting his grip to hold the back of your knees and spreading your legs wide to make space for Nico. You’re spread open for them, legs draped over Rigo’s arms, back flushed against his chest. 

Nico lines himself up, already fully hard and coated with more lube, insistent and demanding, your body yields easily after everything. He pushes inside, sinking into your still-sensitive hole in one smooth motion.

“Fuck,” your voice coming out as a breathy whisper, fingers scrambling at Rigo’s arms for purchase. Your body jerks involuntarily as Nico completely fills you again. 

Rigo chuckles behind you, his breath hot against your ear. You feel him nudge at your rim, and your breath hitches. 

“T-too much,” you whimper. You don’t think you can fit both of them at the same time. “You guys are gonna kill me...” Your voice is raspy from all the abuse your throat has gone through.

“You can take it. We made sure of that,” Rigo’s voice is rough with lust. He presses the thick head of his cock against your already filled hole. He teases you, rocking his hips slightly to apply just enough pressure to make you squirm and clench. “Be a good slut and open up.”

Nico leans closer, licking a stripe up your neck. “That’s it, baby,” he reassures, “You’re doing so well, just relax and let him in.” His hands roam your body, soothing and encouraging as Rigo inches his way inside. He watches with dark fascination, holding your waist steady as Rigo starts to push in, the obscene stretch making your eyes water.

“Ahh—Nggh!” Your teeth sink into the soft part of Nico’s shoulder, trying to muffle your cries. The stretch burns, it’s intensely overwhelming and borderline painful. Rigo moves carefully, savoring every moment he pushes slowly inside you. You’ve never felt this full, your entire body is trembling uncontrollably.

Nico’s pupils are dilated while watching you struggle to accommodate both of them, his hands firm but gentle on your waist, holding you still for Rigo since you keep squirming reflexively.

“Damn, you’re even tighter like this,” Rigo growls against your ear as he finally bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. His grip tightens on your legs, holding you perfectly still as he gives you a long time to adjust. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your nails digging into his arms.

Nico’s fingers trace the edge of your face, turning your head to meet his gaze. His expression is dark with need. “You look so beautiful like this,” he says tenderly before licking the tear that spilled down your cheek.

“Knew you could handle it,” Rigo rasps against your ear, breathing heavily while holding himself back. “Look at you taking both of us like the perfect slut.” He pulls you back against him as he starts to move in slow, rolling thrusts. The friction is intense, both of them stretching you beyond anything you’ve experienced before.

They’re moving simultaneously, when one pushes inside, the other moves out halfway, keeping you constantly full while they rub against each other.

“A-Aahhh—!” Your eyes roll back as broken moans leave your lips. The dual penetration burns like hellfire, but the overwhelming fullness sends lightning through your body, and soon the pain gives way to the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt. It feels like you’ve been ruined for anyone else now. 

You can feel both of them throbbing inside, your body involuntarily squeezing them both rhythmically, and you know they can feel each other too in the most intimate way.

Nico’s free hand grips your hip, helping Rigo set the rhythm as they work in tandem to fuck you open slowly. He’s panting, fingers digging into your skin where he holds you.

“Fuck, this feels…amazing," Rigo gasps against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven. His fingers dig into your skin as he adjusts his angle, making both of them rub against your prostate in a way that your vision blurs.

Nico leans down to press his mouth against yours, his tongue sliding over yours. The friction builds, two thick cocks filling you, stretching you, owning you in a way that leaves no room for thought. Nico breaks the kiss, panting against your neck. “That’s it,” he murmurs, voice rough and inconsistent. “Take both of us…like a good fucking boy.”

“The best,” Rigo lets out a breathless laugh, his rhythm faltering as he feels your body tighten around him. Their praise barely registers with you, your mind is starting to go blank. Broken, incoherent moans leave your lips.

Nico’s hand slides down your stomach, wrapping around your cock, starting to stroke at the same pace they’re going and making you writhe. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, his fingers working your length while both of them fuck you in perfect synchronization. His fingers are working your shaft with just the right amount of pressure to keep you needy, your precum steadily spilling over his fingers.

They’re pacing changes, now they’re moving in and out at the same time, making you cry out into Nico’s shoulder. Rigo’s hands clamp down on your thighs, holding you up as he and Nico thrust together, stretching you impossibly wide with every dual movement. The sting of it is unbearable, but beneath it is an unbearable pleasure, every nerve ending alight as they claim you. Nico’s fingers tighten around your cock, his strokes matching their thrusts now, keeping you right on the edge.

You don’t think you can last much longer. The relentless pace of their double penetration becomes too much for your battered body to handle. Rigo’s cock bottoms out inside you, his hips snapping forward as he chases his climax. Nico matches his rhythm, his own cock plunging in tandem with him, stretching you to your absolute limit. Your body trembles violently between them, overstimulated and overwhelmed.

Rigo groans low in your ear, his grip on your hips bruising as he nears his peak. “Fuck, I'm gonna—,” he cut himself off with a moan, his hips pistoning faster. The room fills with wet slaps, harsh breaths.

You cum first, throwing your head back and crying out. The sound of your release echoes off the walls, raw and unfiltered. Your cock erupts in Nico’s grip, painting both of your abdomens white, your body spasms violently as Nico milks the last drops from your spent cock, his grip is merciless even as you twitch from oversensitivity. 

Rigo doesn’t let up either, he uses your weakness against you, driving his thick length even deeper as he feels your muscles squeeze around him. Nico’s grip tightens on you, his movements turning erratic as he chases his own pleasure. They both keep moving inside you, twitching with every spasm of your overworked body. 

They cum almost at the same time, from how tight your internal muscles are clamping down on them. Rigo’s cum floods your insides in thick ropes. He groans into your nape, teeth scraping the sensitive skin there as he ruts shallow thrusts, milking every last drop into your stretched hole. Nico gasps as he follows a moment later, depositing more into you.

By this time, you’ve already gone limp between them.

The bedroom has long since fallen silent.

The storm that had swallowed the city for most of the evening is finally gone, leaving behind streets still glistening beneath rows of amber streetlights. Every now and then, a cold breeze moves through the balcony in contrast to the lingering warmth inside the bedroom.

Rigo stands alone on the balcony, one elbow hooked lazily over the railing as he looks out across the sleeping neighborhood. His blond hair is still damp from the shower, loose strands falling over his forehead while the ends drip occasionally onto the faded black T-shirt he’d clearly left here long ago. Judging by how naturally he slipped into clothes already waiting in Nico’s closet, this is hardly the first time he’s stayed the night.

A cigarette rests between his fingers. The ember glows orange whenever he takes a slow drag, then fades again, smoke curling upward into the clear sky where the stars are finally beginning to reappear now that the clouds have drifted away. He exhales smoke through his nose, eyes half-lidded, looking entirely too comfortable after everything that happened.

Eventually, his attention drifts back inside.

The bedroom is lit only by the bedside lamp, casting everything in warm shades of gold. You’re lying beneath the fresh duvet, one arm thrown carelessly over the pillow after exhausting yourself enough to pass out almost the moment you came. Cleaned up and dressed in one of Nico’s shirts, you look deceptively innocent as if nothing wild happened less than an hour ago. But the dark marks peeking above the collar will take days to fade. 

Rigo’s mouth twitches into a grin. “...Poor bastard.”

The bathroom door slides open. Nico steps out while absentmindedly rubbing a towel through his wet hair, dark strands refusing to stay in place no matter how many times he runs the fabric over them. Another towel hangs low on his hips. He was about to wear clothes when he noticed Rigo staring.

Nico’s gaze drifts toward the bed again, lingering on you for a moment before he exhales through his nose. “You were a little too rough with him.”

Rigo doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. He takes another slow drag from his cigarette before grinning at the city lights. “We both know he loves getting treated like that.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Nico gives him a sidelong look before pulling a shirt over his head. 

“Didn’t hear him complaining,” Rigo retorts slyly.

“He was too flustered to form complete sentences.” Nico squints at him, “he was literally crying.”

Rigo lets out a satisfied chuckle, rolling the cigarette lazily between his fingers. “Exactly my point. It was hot.” He stares at Nico knowingly, “Gotta check off ‘DP’ from the bucket list now.”

Nico shakes his head, though the corner of his mouth betrays him with the faintest hint of a smile. “Can’t believe you have a bucket list for this.”

His attention returns to the bed where you’re completely buried beneath the blankets, sleeping so deeply that even Rigo’s laughter fails to get so much as a twitch out of you.

Rigo watches you for a second before breaking into another grin. “...He’s gone. I don’t think an earthquake would wake him.”

The room falls quiet for a beat as they both look at your sleeping form. He flicks a bit of ash over the balcony railing before smirking. “Wanna bet how long it takes for him to wake up?”

“No,” Nico answers without missing a beat. “Fix your gambling addiction.”

You cross your arms as you watch him move. “Getting the life scared out of me was fun?”

“For me it was.” He replies, clearly entertained.

You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

His eyes settle back on you, the teasing fades with each step he takes towards you. “One day,” he says, his voice carrying the same certainty he brings to everything he believes in, “I want you to line up beside me and know that if you beat me...”

A faint smile appears, “You earned it.”

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. Ever since you entered the underground scene, that finish line has existed somewhere impossibly far ahead of you. Nico has always seemed untouchable, a benchmark rather than a rival, someone you chased but never truly expected to catch.

Yet hearing him say it feels like an encouragement and a prophecy at the same time.

Your chest feels tight. “I...” You trail off, laughing softly because you don’t know how else to respond. What he just said is something you’ve always wanted, you want to become the driver who can make Nico look over from the next lane and wonder if this is finally the race he might lose in.

“You’re setting the bar pretty high,” you state with a genuine smile on your face.

“I know.” His smile grows just enough to soften the edges of his usually unreadable expression. “And I think you’ll get there.”

Your heart has survived near collisions, police chases, six-figure races, and nearly hydroplaning across an entire highway, but somehow, those simple words affect you far more than any of them.

Nico studies your reaction before a small smirk forms on his lips. “You were shaking back there.”

Heat instantly creeps into your face. “I almost sent us into oncoming traffic. We could’ve died.”

“But we didn’t.” He closes the remaining distance between you until you’re standing only a breath apart. Close enough that you can see the tiny reflections from the bedside lamp dancing in his dark brown eyes, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

“You were terrified,” he says, with a hint of amusement. “It was kind of adorable.”

You scoff in the most offended way. “I was having a near-death experience!”

“But you still did everything I told you.” His hand finds your face, thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“For that, I think you deserve a reward.”

This is the most difficult smut to write ever, I've reached peak freakiness. You guys are so mean to MC in your suggestions. DP is too much for him, bro almost got fucked to death 🥀

The smut-only excerpt will also be uploaded here on Tumblr later.

You raise an eyebrow. “Professionals?” Rain hammers against the windshield. The wipers sweep again, clearing just enough for you to see the road stretching ahead.

“We don’t invite anyone with a fast car,” he says, clearly referring to you and how you got invited even in an average commuter car. “Speed is the easy part. Correct judgment isn’t.”

“Every accident,” Nico continues, “even a small one, puts more eyes on us. One clipped mirror. One wrecked civilian car. They’ll be calling the cops on us, and that attention doesn’t stop at the driver who caused it... It spreads to everyone.”

He glances at you briefly. “The police don’t care who made the mistake. They see an illegal racing scene that suddenly deserves more resources.”

You think back to your very first race. “The guy who hit the taxi...” It wasn’t a major accident, but you know he’s the one who paid for the damages.

“He’s gone. His crew kicked him out.” Nico doesn’t hesitate. “Nobody invites him to events. Doesn’t matter how quick he is.”

“Just because of one mistake?” No wonder you’ve never seen that guy around again.

“Because it proved he wasn’t good enough.” His answer comes without an ounce of sympathy. “If you can’t control your car around civilians, you don’t belong here.”

The cabin falls quiet except for the rhythmic slap of the wipers. “I thought the rule about clipping something was, I don’t know...” You search for the right words. “A moral thing.”

A faint smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “You thought we were being honorable?”

“A little.” Great, now you feel naive for thinking that.

“You’re so cute,” he lets out a soft laugh and your face slightly turns red. 

“We avoid civilians because they’re bad for business.” He looks back through the windshield, eyes tracking the traffic several cars ahead. “If somebody gets hurt, races get canceled. Organizers disappear for months, sponsors stop betting and crews go quiet.” 

He glances over to see if you understand the nuances, “Enough accidents, and eventually the city throws enough money and manpower at the problem til the entire underground scene is gone.”

“So the rule isn’t about protecting people,” you say. “The real reason is survival.” Keeping civilians safe is just a side effect of the rules, and the more Nico explains it, the more it resembles a business that just happens to operate outside the law.

He nods, “Money comes in. Money goes out. We have standards.” His gaze settles on you for a brief moment. “Which is why I don’t care how talented someone is. If they can’t drive clean...” He pauses just long enough for the words to settle. “They don’t drive for us.”

The highway opens up ahead, with more lanes and less traffic. Long stretches of asphalt disappear into rain and darkness.

Nico lifts one hand and gestures forward. The meaning is obvious: ‘Go faster.’

You glance at him before locking in on the road. “You’re genuinely insane,” you whisper, but despite every complaint you’ve made since leaving the garage, your foot presses down slightly harder on the accelerator. The engine note rises, water sprays from the rear tires, and the speedometer climbs. 

So maybe you’re insane too.

I fucking love my plot, man. Just because I write porn doesn't mean the plot must be generic romance bullshit that gets brushed over afterwards.