#this was originally soapgaz x reader but the 2nd person stuff really wasn't happening idk why. sorry!

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 26 - Overstimulation

Gaz x Soap - 1.6k (on ao3)

summary: Johnny and Kyle get a little carried away on a night out. (Johnny POV)

cw: poly 141, public sex (they don't get caught by anyone else but ghost and price watch them), making out, teasing degradation, some super light puppy play (in the way ghost talks to soap and gaz)

note: i didn't notice until i finished but this is... not really overstimulation. but it's what you're getting! sorry (not really)

Soap’s always loved to make out with Gaz. He matches Soap’s energy perfectly, completely willing to pull when Johnny pushes, to bite back when he gets a bit worked up. Johnny’s so used to always being the more enthusiastic partner, having someone to match his energy is almost relieving.

It’s also addictive. Half the time they hook up, they never get any further than some heavy petting, instead just laying with each other and making out for hours on end. Sometimes they get off - clumsy hands, humping against each other’s hips or thighs or stomachs - but sometimes the act is just the kissing. It’s enough, with Gaz.

But sometimes it feels almost like too much.

Sitting in an old leather booth in a dive bar, Soap’s legs tangled with Kyle’s while they make out, it feels like too much. The music is so loud that it’s difficult to hear someone at your own table speaking, there’s a thick cloud of smoke floating over that smells suspiciously like weed, and Johnny can feel Ghost staring at them. (It doesn’t bother him - Ghost is the perfect voyeur to Soap’s exhibitionist.)

The constant presence of everything else floats away as Johnny’s tongue tangles with Kyle’s. The other man tastes like the tequila shots they’d taken, the taste passing from one mouth to the other. Where Soap is all nipping kisses, trying to stick his tongue as far down Gaz’s throat as he can, Gaz is focused on the touch of it all, hands wandering over Johnny’s chest while he tangles their tongue together.

Johnny hitches a leg over Kyle’s lap, so that his knee is pressed up against his half-hard cock, and his own length is pressed to Gaz’s side. When he wraps his arms around Kyle’s waist, the other’s going around his neck, they’re both in the perfect position to grind against each other.

And oh it feels good to grind against the hard muscle of Kyle’s side, to lean his weight onto the other man and feel himself tugged closer. Gaz whimpers into his mouth when Soap’s knee shifts further forward, his hips beginning to rock into the pressure.

“Jesus,” Soap hears Ghost murmur, the sound of his glass being set down loud despite all the noise. He can’t help but smirk into his kiss, feels Kyle reciprocate. 

He spares a moment to glance over his shoulder at Simon, Gaz’s lips immediately going to his neck. “Jealous, sir?”

Ghost snorts, shaking his head dismissively as he crosses his arms. “Jealous of what, those sloppy kisses? Jealous of two pups humpin’ each other? I could have each of you ridin’ my boots with just a look, there’s nothin’ to be jealous of.”

Soap smirks, goes to bite out something about Ghost’s tone betraying him when Gaz grabs him by the nape of his neck, tugging their mouths back together.

“Gonna - get - us - in - trouble,” he whispers between nipping kisses, sharp spikes of pleasure-pain left against Johnny’s bottom lip, then the soothing stroke of his tongue. “Not lettin’ you take me down with you, MacTavish.”

Johnny’s laugh is a little loud for such close proximity, and Kyle presses their lips together to muffle him.

They stay like that for several long moments - humping each other, smiling into the kiss. They end up more bumping teeth and biting at each other than kissing, both lips stinging at the roughening treatment. 

It’s fun to play with his fellow sergeant like this, to take knowing that Gaz will give. Ghost and Price are so commanding, always so in control of what’s happening, and Soap loves submitting to that but he also loves the reprieve of a casual kiss with Kyle. 

His hips work a bit faster at Gaz’s hip as the low simmering in his gut grows warmer and warmer. The desire to get off is becoming a substantial need, driving him closer and closer to the other man. He levers himself up a bit more, so he’s fully sitting over Kyle’s thigh, and moves his arms up so he can scratch at the man’s back.

Gaz grunts, hips bucking up into Johnny’s knee as he arcs his back further into the sting of nails down his back. His arms stay around Soap’s neck, tugging him further down so there’s hardly an inch of space between their bodies.

It’s good to get off like this. A slow growing pleasure controlled only by them, no waiting (or begging) for permission, an orgasm controlled just by them. The freedom is rare, and Soap savors it as much as he savors the taste of Gaz’s tongue.

He doesn’t notice when Price comes back to the table with a fresh round of drinks, only clueing in to the man’s presence when he speaks.

“They’re still going at it?”

A grunt from Simon. “Think they’re almost finished.”

Price sighs, and Kyle and Johnny share a smile with each other. There’s nothing quite like putting out the Captain, and the casual way he had spoken leaves both of them even hornier. 

Soap is the first to come, like he almost always is when he’s allowed to control his own orgasms. One is rarely enough for him with his sex drive as high as it is, and he already knows he’s got a few more in him as he gets himself off against Kyle.

His climax is slow, a building thing coming from his gut and moving through him in long waves. It hardly even feels like an orgasm, more like strong waves of pleasure that nearly bowl him over. If his boxers didn’t get uncomfortably wet, he might have thought he was just exceptionally horny.

But he shudders through the peak, panting into Gaz’s mouth and leaving the other man to do most of the work as he humped erratically, hips moving on instinct alone.

He has enough sense to know better than to leave Kyle hanging, so he lets his arms drop to the man’s waist and sneaks his hands up the white shirt he’d worn. He tries to press his knee further into Gaz’s movements, stroking over his chest.

It’s the pinch to his nipple that finally gets him, Soap’s short nails digging in and giving him just enough pain to get off. Johnny pulls back enough to watch Gaz’s eyes go wide, watch him bite his lip to hold back a moan (even though someone has surely noticed what they’re doing). Soap is quick to lean in and return Gaz’s favor from before, loving their lips together to quiet his moans.

Johnny recovers before Gaz does. Slowly but surely he starts to shift against the man’s thigh, his cock pushing uncomfortably at his now soaked underwear. There’s an element of humiliation that comes with humping your friend with cum filled boxers, and that only makes Johnny more eager.

“Soap,” Gaz moans, letting his forehead fall forward to Johnny’s forehead and trying to move his own hips away from the pressure Johnny’s hadn’t pulled away. “Too much, too soon.”

“Nah,” Soap pants, settling into a faster rhythm now, working himself up much more quickly. “Nah, c’mon, feels good.”

Gaz shakes his head, grunting. “No, mate, it’s- fuck, ouch, how are you not too sensitive?”

Johnny’s orgasm comes far quicker, like a tidal wave in the distance that he watches grow closer and closer. He’s nearly breathless as he falls forward a bit, giving more of his weight to Kyle and almost kneeling on top of his groin. “Feels, fuck, feels so good… you don’t wanna feel good too? Come on, mate.”

Johnny reaches down, pressing a hand roughly down on Kyle’s crotch. The other man yelps spine going straight as he tries to squirm away.

“Johnny! Stop, stop, that- ow, motherfucker!”

Soap would laugh if he wasn’t riding the edge himself, pressing his entire weight into Gaz’s body, hips working in quick little thrusts. He can feel himself throbbing, grits his teeth when he can practically taste the orgasm.

Gaz tries to get revenge by gripping Johnny’s cock through his pants with a (frankly unreasonably) tight hold, a sharp squeeze.

The jokes on him though - the spike of pain is what gets Johnny off.

He settles a bit more after the second orgasm, the cum becoming a truly horrendous discomfort in his boxers, but worth it for the pleasure cooling his bones. He slumps against Gaz until the other man shoves him off, legs shaking slightly.

“That was quite the show,” Price rumbles, and Soap smiles with his eyes still closed, basking. “Think everyone else enjoyed it?”

Ghost grunts. “How could they not? Two of them moanin’ like that, damn lucky we didn’t get kicked out.”

That startles a laugh from Soap, the playful degradation a pleasant familiarity from Ghost. He blinks open a bit blearily, makes eye contact with the masked man. “Couldn’t have been too loud, what with him tryin’ to suffocate me.”

Gaz makes an offended noise, kicking the side of Johnny’s leg. “Shut it. You nearly had me choking on your tongue.”

There are soft sounds of amusement from all of the men, and Price slides a try with four shot glasses towards the sergeants once they all calm.

“Your tequila, boys. Should give you enough energy for another show.”

Johnny can’t help but smirk when he and Kyle make eye-contact, both wearing matching expressions. If Price is already trying to get them drunk, it’s going to be a long night.

He grins as he downs the first shot, already looking forward to it.