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“Shit, should’a known you'd be usin’ him before we even got started properly,” Bucky swears when he enters the penthouse to the sight of Peter bouncing on Tony's dick like his life depends on it.
Tony just flaunts Bucky a wide grin like he couldn’t care less—and he doesn’t—and squeezes one hand over the bare skin of Peter's hip. Peter lets out a whine at that, startling, but Tony hushes him by coaxing him into a kiss. Tendrils of smoke wisp out from the gap between their lips, and Bucky watches, enraptured. Steve already has his dick out and he's jacking himself off—always one step ahead of him, the bastard.
When Peter pulls back, his eyes are heavy and glazed over. Whether it’s from the blunt or the cock that’s filling him up oh-so-good, Bucky doesn’t know. All he knows is that his dick is aching, and he needs to do something to alleviate it, pronto.
“Daddy,” Peter whines, the noise high-pitched and whiny. It makes Bucky's mouth go dry.
“What is it, baby?” Tony murmurs, taking another drag from the blunt in his hand. “Need something from Daddy?”
“Pl–ease,” Peter whimpers, leaning forward to fall onto Tony. It does nothing but show off the curve of his spine and ass even more.
Bucky’s moved next to Tony on the couch now, and he's pressing the palm of his hand to the growing bulge in his pants.
Tony takes a lazy drag from the blunt, then passes it off carelessly to Bucky, who takes it wordlessly. Then, Tony grips both of Peter’s hips, nails digging in just enough to turn his pale skin white at first, then a blush-pink.
“If you can't speak,” Tony growls, hips snapping up and jostling Peter, making him squeal and choke on a moan, “how is Daddy supposed to give you what you want? Hm?”
“Aww, stop being so hard on him, Tony; you know exactly what you're doing,” Steve chuckles indulgently.
Tony rolls his eyes. Peter mewls when he grinds his ass down onto his cock, balls-deep inside him now. “What, you think it's fine that he can just go dumb and drooly after one dick? Pathetic.” But he soothes the sting of his words by pulling Peter into another kiss. And if anything, the way the boy’s cock is drooling white streaks down its length is enough to show just how much he likes Tony's words.
Bucky takes a drag from the blunt, just like Tony had done, and lets his head fall to the side, blowing smoke out lightly towards Peter’s direction. Peter sways, and clumsily places his hands on Tony's shoulders to steady himself.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” Tony croons, voice laced with mock sympathy. “Daddy's gotcha, all you gotta do is tell him what you want, hm? You can do that much, can't you?”
“Hnngh—” Peter bites his lip, thighs quivering as Tony's hips pick up the pace. “I wan’— I want— please—”
“You want what?” Tony snaps, and cracks a hand down on his hip. Peter moans, and Bucky finally takes his cock out of his pants, stroking himself with a lazy hand.
Tony's next words are delicious.
“If you can't choose what you want, baby, Daddy’s gonna choose for you.”
“Bet he doesn't even know what he wants,” Bucky mutters through gritted teeth as he fists his cock.
Tony laughs and Peter's face reddens. “Oh, you got that right, Buck.” And with that, Tony doesn't say anything else, just snaps his hips at a brutal pace.
It doesn't take long for Tony to come. And when he does, he lets out a deep, guttural growl, sucking a bruise into Peter's neck almost desperately. Peter's cock is an angry shade of red now, but he makes no effort to reach down for it. Good training underneath all that pretty pink flush, Bucky thinks to himself.
“Well, Petey-Pie,” Tony drawls after he's done basking in the afterglow of his high, voice rough and gravelly. “Time's up. And that means you're gonna be a good boy, aren't you?”
“Uh-huh.” Peter nods fiercely. He looks a sight—lips bitten until they were swollen and red, cheeks painted with streaks of pink, hair mussed up from when Tony twisted a hand through it to expose his neck. “Gonna— gonna be g-good, Daddy, promise—”
“Oh, I know,” Tony murmurs, and slowly lifts him off of his cock. He wraps a hand around Peter's cock and strokes once, making Peter arch with a silent moan, lips parting. “That's why I know you're gonna be a good boy and go ride Bucky and Steve too. And don’t you even think about coming, sweetheart. We’ll get to decide whether or not you earned that after everything. Isn't that right?”
“Sure is,” Bucky agrees easily, and Steve echoes his agreement.
Tony seems delighted by their enthusiasm. Of course he is. “After we've painted your ass and face white with our come, we'll ask ourselves—was Petey-Pie a good boy? Does Peter deserve to come? Did Peter half-ass his job? Should we go for round two, see if we can get that jaw aching, fill that filthy mouth up? And then—only then—we'll decide whether you get to come tonight.”
Peter shudders at the words, wracking his whole body, and he gasps, “D-Daddy—“
“Go on, baby,” Tony murmurs, smirking. “Go give Bucky a kiss, show him how good you wanna be.”
Peter stumbles as he tries to clamber onto Bucky's lap, awkwardly getting into position. Bucky's cock slides between his ass and feels the rim of his entrance wet and slick with lube and Tony's come, leaking back out. It's filthy, and Bucky loves it.
Peter looks up at him from underneath his eyelashes, and Bucky pointedly takes another drag from the blunt. Then, pulling it back, he leans forward and kisses Peter hard, letting him inhale the smoke.
Peter keens, a high-pitched noise that goes straight to Bucky's cock, and Bucky decides that yeah, this is gonna be a great fucking night. It always is.