"Sweet bloody jesus," he murmured, and that was only at the sight of Christian draping himself over the chair like some supine General, his legs wide, his erection clearly visible in his soft sweatpants. Sean wet his lips anxiously and stepped after Viggo as he crawled forward, wanting to be close when the other man reached Christian, and he wasn't let down either.

Viggo was a bold and generous lover - and his inventiveness was on a different scale to Christian's - but Sean had rarely seen him put all of himself into it like this, so boldly throwing himself into the act. The first time they'd had sex it had been wary, careful, as they drew up their boundaries around each other, but here Viggo was flicking his tongue devilishly against the very tip of his other lover's cock, unflinchingly falling to the act, and barely thirty seconds in through the door.

He hadn't even asked how the flight had been.

There was a balance being struck here. Sean had wanted control, but then Christian had taken it from here with a single note in his voice, and an order. Several orders, and Major Sharpe knew how to take orders. In a matter of seconds Christian had taken the leading role, the role of the General in this little play, and there was nothing Sharpe or Sean could do about it but go along.

"Yes, sir."

His own carefully pressed trousers couldn't have come off any faster, and the underwear he wore with them, but the neat black socks stayed on as he padded closer, and he worked the look better than most men might, but it was still an awkward look. He stepped closer still, brought his hand down to Viggo's hair, and stroked the back of Christian's hand where it was knotted in the feather light strands.

If Viggo was begging already they were all bloody doomed.

"You heard Lord Bale, Viggo," he breathed softly, and his shirt tails could barely hide his prominent arousal. "You know what to do."