Big Book of Hatsome One Shots

Theater Games (N)

TW: Teen!Cast

Surprisingly, it was Ross' idea to skip school and go see a movie; usually it was Smith who'd make questionably wise suggestions like that. But Ross' pleading look had gotten the other two to bend to his will, and 9:00 a.m. on a Tuesday saw them lined up outside their local theater.

It was Ross' idea, but it was Smith who whined and begged for 3D until Trott begrudgingly gave in. After all, what was the point of watching Sharknado if it wasn't in 3D?!

Ross was in charge of the snacks. He drenched the large popcorn tub heavily in butter, and piled Trott's arms high with overpriced chocolate.

Then the three made their way into the completely empty theater, Trott seated on the left side, Ross in the middle with the popcorn, and Smith in the aisle seat, spreading his long legs out into the walkway.

Trott fiddled impatiently with the 3D glasses, trying to fit them over his own as the theater darkened and the trailers began to play. Giving up with a huff of annoyance, he leaned past the huge tub of popcorn in Ross' lap to give Smith a dirty look.

"What?" Smith said innocently, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it, gracelessly, into his mouth.

Trott rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "You're disgusting, mate."

"Says the slimy catfish."

Trott sighed heavily, but let the slight go by without comment. He settled back into his seat as the opening credits began on the giant screen in front of them.

The movie was as ridiculous as Ross had predicted: over-the-top acting, absurd CGI. The three took turns making snide comments in a stage whisper.

Fifteen minutes in, the popcorn was gone and Ross set the empty tub on the floor in front of him. Only a few moments passed before he felt a heavy weight against his side, and tilted his head to see Smith's face, in a playfully mischievous expression, leaning on his shoulder.

"Guess what, mate?" Smith said in a normal tone of voice.

"What?" Ross asked, matching his volume.

"We're all alone in here."

Trott laughed quietly, pushing the 3D glasses higher on his nose until they clanked against his own glasses. "Thinking with your dick as usual, mate?"

"Oooh, you dirty bugger," Ross said, sounding half impressed and half scandalized.

"C'mon," Smith urged, draping his weight onto Ross' side. "How often are we gonna get the chance to do this?"

As Smith's arm got closer to his belt Ross turned a pair of half-aroused, half-pleading eyes on Trott.

Trott was wrestling with his sense of responsibility – then Ross' eyes fell shut abruptly and a light groan escaped his lips. Trott looked down and sure enough, Smith's hand was planted squarely on Ross' crotch, fingers tightening and releasing methodically.

Trott debated for half a moment longer, but then Ross' breath whistled out of his mouth and brushed the fine hairs on Trott's neck and to hell with it, why fight the inevitable?

His hand reached for the bottom hem of Ross' shirt, sliding underneath even as his eyes stayed focused on the screen. A shaky breath escaped Ross' lips as Trott's cool fingers brushed over a nipple, and Trott couldn't hide the smirk that crossed his face.

Smith's more generic suggestion quickly became a specific game – tantalizing touches racing over Ross' body, grazing his lips, stroking gently along his side as the other two kept their eyes fixed on the screen in front of them. Smith snickered as Ross bit down on his knuckles to avoid making more noise.

Smith, always one to take it a step too far: with deft movements, he unbuckled Ross' belt and undid his fly, pulling his cock out of his boxers and his jeans.

"Jesus!" Ross said, arms flapping in a futile attempt to dissuade Smith.

Watching the other two with hooded eyes, Trott slowly pulled his hand out from under Ross' shirt and instead wrapped it around Ross' shoulders, tugging Ross toward him. The darker-haired boy turned to look at him in surprise.

Three things happened in the same heartbeat: Smith lowered his head to wrap his lips around Ross, Ross unsuccessfully stifled a desperate groan, and Trott successfully shoved four fingers into Ross' mouth to shut him up.

Ross' eyes stayed fixed on Trott, almost too afraid to look down and see Smith's head bobbing in his lap. He closed his lips around Trott's fingers and sucked, the intrusion a welcome distraction from the feelings overwhelming his system.

Trott smiled condescendingly and muttered "good boy" in a way that made Ross want to throw him to the floor and fuck him into the next century. There was a time and a place, though. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on Trott, trying to let the other know what he was thinking.

Trott, flush, seemed to realize; but to his credit, he kept his eyes focused on Ross' and the smile faint on his face.

The movie gained volume and so did Ross, despite Trott's hand in his mouth. Ross was twitching up into Smith's mouth uncontrollably. His eyes, still focused on Trott's, turned pleading.

"Yeah, Ross, you can come now. Do you want to come?" Trott murmured, eyes never leaving Ross'. Ross writhed, his eyes slamming shut.

Trott leaned farther in, until his lips were brushing Ross' ear, and he said, "Come on, mate, come on," and Ross' mouth closed automatically around Trott's hand as his lower half jerked convulsively into Smith's mouth, built up tension finally leaving him in a series of desperate thrusts. He slumped back against the seat, Smith considerately rearranging his pants and Trott pulling his hand away and making a melodramatic face of disgust at Ross' saliva.

There were a few moments of quiet as the three rearranged themselves and turned back to the screen.

Then Smith, amusement coloring his tone, said, "You look even better in 3D, mate," and the other two couldn't hold in their laughter.

Credit to Roehrborn on Ao3