Got a Feeling It's Two Against One (Harry Hart POV)

[gotanothercall]

Anything even marginally resembling tension left Harry's body as the three of them came down together. He could have collapsed right there and then, but supposed he should be considerate to the man beneath him. He didn't extend that courtesy in most of his dealings with Archy, but this was a far cry from an exchange of information. Rosalind climbed off of him delicately, showing her usual attention to detail. This entire tryst had been her plan, and like most of her plans, it had gone off exactly how she wanted it to. Archy gulped in air, his face at last fully exposed again. She laid down next to him. This gave Harry quite the vantage point, still atop of Archy. Rosalind looked nothing less than satisfied. Her smile was small, but she had an openness about her she so rarely displayed. Her arms curled out her at her sides, luxuriating in the afterglow. Her cheeks and other points of her body were flush, her long red hair was fanned out beneath her. She was nothing less than a vision. Knowing he had something to do with that made Harry's not inconsiderable pride inflate just a little bit more.

She was perfect. Anything that could make him look away from her had to be quite the sight. Where Rosalind damn near looked like a pre-Raphaelite ideal, Archy... frankly, Archy was a mess. Quite literally, for one. His insistence on taking them both at the same time left cum on his chin from Ros and on his torso from Harry. More than that, Archy appeared to have just gone ten rounds with a prize fighter. Clearly, he didn't know what he was signing on for. This tickled Harry. He was supposed to be the devious gangster, the opulent crime lord, yet was much tamer than either himself or the quiet, sharp scientist. Scratches littered his shoulders and sides. His chest heaved while he regained his breath. His eyes were unfocused and dazed, as though he had been smacked in the back of the head with a waffle iron. He was shaking, not worryingly so but enough for Harry to know he wasn't just coming down. He was recovering. Rosalind was unquestionably beautiful, but Archy. His slicked hair askew, his normally put-together facade obliterated and replaced with this shuddering mass... that was a beauty Harry simply couldn't ignore.

They made quite the good looking pair.

He did dismount from Archy eventually, the action earning a strangled noise from the man that Harry couldn't help but smirk at. Archy wiped his face with the back of his arm but made no other movement. For a moment, Harry was surprised. Archy could never fathom the idea of his being anything other than straight, and each of those rare times he and Harry did have a dalliance, he was very quick to leave and deny everything right after. (This was no problem with Harry, who had no qualms with his sexuality, but more than a few with the criminal who he was fucking.) Of course, there was a difference between tonight and those other nights: the third party. That wasn't the right term, Harry thought. Third party implied that Rosalind was an extra component. She could never be written off as something so trivial. No, she had her men right where she wanted them. Harry made his way to Ros' other side, sandwiching her between himself and Archy. It had been quite the surprise to learn that having a pair of eyes on them didn't make Archy shirk those cravings he spent so much time denying. If anything, having permission from Rosalind to let that impulse go made Archy into something Harry had never seen. But it was always after she gave the okay. Harry had to fight for each inch of leniency with Archy. To himself, he couldn't deny the attraction in that. With Rosalind, all she had to do was say a word, or give a look, and Archy would be on his knees in record time, both metaphorically and literally. It was a different man from what Harry was used to, but it intoxicating to watch, to receive the benefit of it. Archy was so eager to please, and Ros was eager for every touch from both of them, to pull her satisfaction from any way it could be offered to her.

It was a miracle that Harry lasted as long as he had.

He slid down into the bed to be closer to them. Ros showed her approval by leaning over to him and kissing him, lazily but not without heat or affection. He returned the quiet passion in kind. Archy rolled over onto his stomach, unbothered by what a wreck he had become. He grasped for Rosalind. She turned to face him, and they shared a kiss of their own. Harry watched with some degree of fascination. There was something between them, something he was so unused to seeing on Archy that it took him a moment to identify it as tenderness. His hand traced her face carefully, and her lips curled into the faintest smile. Harry was struck with the thought that this wasn't meant for him and he should look away. Before he could, they parted. Archy was still too dazed to notice much of anything, but even post euphoria, Rosalind missed nothing. Feeling bold, she gently placed her fingertips beneath Harry's chin. She brought him down, not to her, but towards Archy. Archy understood, and too blissed out to bother fighting it or even thinking about it, his hand moved from Ros' face to Harry's and closed the gap between them.

Harry made the softest noise of surprise, which Archy gladly took into his own mouth. Harry grabbed Archy's chin and returned the kiss. The two of them were never without intensity. Archy's short but biting nails against the beginnings of his scalp were both unsurprising and welcome. However, again Harry was exposed to something new. Archy moved his mouth slowly, deliberately. Not only was any trace of hesitance gone, it was replaced with something. He was gentle. This wasn't the forceful push Harry knew, it was Archy giving something to him. Harry gripped his chin a little harder, his mouth pushed more insistently. When they parted, Archy gave him a look. Then with no word, just laid back down. Harry blinked. He swallowed. Then, after a moment, figured it out. Tenderness. That was what was there. What he just saw Archy do with Ros, he just received. Archy may have been kissing Harry, but it wasn't meant for him, really.

Perhaps Harry himself was the third party all along.

It would be a strange note to leave the night on, but Harry did have other matters to attend to. A gentleman spy's work was never done, and all of that. He was needed to run a practice exercise for when the day came that they needed to test new potentials. He stood. He didn't even have a moment to start gathering his clothes before Ros took him by the wrist. Her warm hand was an anchor, her voice even more so.

“Going so soon?”

He grinned at her, a picture of grace. “I'd hate to be cliché, but duty does call.”

Archy lifted his head back up, for a moment ago he collapsed into his pillow. He rolled his eyes, and oh, there was that cheeky bastard Harry knew. That said, Archy's response did surprise him. “You heard her.” He flopped back down, spent beyond belief. He was partially obscured by the pillow again, but his voice came through. “World can wait a night to be saved, can't it?”

Harry cocked his head. Rosalind raised a brow. Archy closed his eyes, already checking out of the conversation. With a small shrug Harry would never in a million years describe as helpless, he lowered himself back down into Archy's bed. He was loathe to admit it, but Archy had a point. Surely someone else would be around to act as the trainee. Merlin had a score to settle with Lancelot, he would likely be the one called. He didn't bother with the covers, but rolled over to his side so he could throw an arm around Rosalind's middle. Archy's arm ended up around her shoulder, along with Harry's. So the spy, the gangster, and the scientist sprawled out, clashing missions and beliefs discarded for the time being. They would still be there in a couple hours, when Harry could think this through properly.

The world could wait.