The tension didn't just thrum, it pulsed.
Not a word spoken. Not a command issued.
Zed merely leaned back into the leather of his chair, swirling his glass, his robe parted slightly, but he didn't move, didn't blink.
Nigel breathed unevenly, his fingers still tingling from where Thanos had touched him.
Thanos didn't retreat.
He couldn't.
There was something in the way Nigel's throat moved when he swallowed. In the way his pupils were blown wide, reflecting the heat in the room. No more pretending. No more play.
And Thanos, prideful, brash, always in control, let go.
He surged forward. Their lips crashed, not softly, not delicately. Desperate. Starved. Their hands roamed like they'd been waiting too long, fumbling for skin, for friction, for more.
Nigel gasped into Thanos' mouth, nails digging into his back as the heat surged between them. The bed groaned under their weight, sheets rustling like whispers urging them on.
Zed didn't move.
Didn't interrupt.
He watched.
He watched as Nigel tilted his head, inviting Thanos further, as Thanos growled low and pressed harder, hips grinding, fingers tugging at clothing like it was a barrier to survival.
It wasn't a show anymore. It wasn't for money.
It was real.
Their breathing mixed, gasps, moans, curses too low to decipher. Bodies slick, burning hotter, lost in the rising tide.
They didn't care who was watching.
They forgot they were being watched.
And Zed--
He drank every drop of it.
Then, after the interlude, when the room was thick with sweat and breath and trembling limbs tangled--
Zed stood.
He placed the glass down with a sharp clink, his shadow long against the bed.
"You're mine now," he said, voice deep and steady. "Don't stop."
And they didn't.
Not because he said so--
But because by then, they wanted to be.
Like a festival, wild, unashamed, rhythmic in its chaos.
Zed didn't need to touch. He felt everything.
Their pleasure sang through the room like a storm. And he, sitting at the eye, smiled like a king whose kingdom finally answered.
Thanos' lips trailed down Nigel's neck, no plan, just instinct, a magnet pulled toward skin now too warm to ignore. Nigel arched into him, head tipped back, breathless, offering himself without shame.
Clothes peeled off in pieces, scattered across the sheets like fallen leaves after a storm. Nigel's chest heaved, his eyes glassy, mouth parted, Zed's gaze pinned him down harder than any hand could.
He wasn't just being watched.
He was being devoured.
Zed leaned slightly, resting his chin on one knuckle, watching as Nigel's legs parted further, instinctively drawn to Thanos like gravity itself. The air crackled. Heat radiated off their skin in waves.
Thanos gritted his teeth, knuckles white from gripping Nigel's thighs. He shouldn't be feeling this much. But the moment their bodies touched, friction against friction, he let go.
Their hips rolled together, slow at first, like they were learning the rhythm of each other's heartbeat. Nigel let out a choked moan, high and trembling, as his hands clawed at Thanos' back, drawing him in, dragging him down.
Zed's breath hitched once. Just once.
No one noticed.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Their tempo built, faster, harder, deeper into the fire. Bodies slammed in messy unison, mouths seeking, claiming, needing. Nigel's cries bounced off the walls, desperate, filthy, honest.
Thanos was no longer chasing money. He was chasing the high.
And Nigel, gods, Nigel was glowing.
Zed's voice finally returned, rough and low like thunder after lightning.
"Let me see it."
They obeyed, eager, unraveled, beautiful in their ruin.
Nigel's thighs trembled. Thanos clenched his jaw, veins standing out on his neck, sweat dripping down his spine.
Then it happened--
The peak. Raw, unfiltered.
No command.
Just a surge of instincts colliding in perfect, shattering harmony.
Zed closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose, like their release had poured directly into him.
And in that quiet aftermath, moans fading, breathing slowing, he stood again, slow and fluid.
"You'll return," he said.
Not a question.
A truth etched into their bones now.
Zed sat still on the same couch, same whiskey glass balanced in hand. But tonight, his gaze was hungrier. Calculated. Almost territorial.
Last night had stirred something in him. That first gush ignited something too potent to ignore. Not quite a statue… not quite collapse. It held him in place but begged for more.
The door opened.
Thanos stepped in first, his walk slower this time. Not wary, ready.
Nigel followed, subtly flushed, his eyes flicking up to meet Zed's for just a second… and that was all it took. Zed grinned.
"Back already?" he asked, voice smooth.
Neither replied.
He nodded once. "Then let's not waste the night."
His voice cut sharper now, a command cloaked in velvet.
"Strip. Slowly."
Thanos hesitated for a breath. Nigel didn't. Fingers already tugging at buttons, exposing pale skin inch by inch. The ripple of muscle, the arch of his back, all of it on display like art. Thanos followed, heat flashing behind his eyes.
"Touch each other."
They did.
But this wasn't the blind chaos of before—this was orchestration.
Zed leaned forward, setting the glass down.
"Thanos. Behind."
His breath caught. Nigel's lips parted in a gasp, already shifting forward, knowing exactly what that meant.
And Zed...
Zed felt it.
Every brush. Every inhale. The push and pull of breathless gasps. His nerves fired like he was inside them, nerve endings stitched to theirs, wired to every twitch and gush.
"Harder."
A grunt. Skin slapping skin. Nigel cried out, but Zed's lips only curled, he knew it was no act. This was pure instinct fueled by his command.
"Don't stop. Not until I say so."
Thanos obeyed, locked into rhythm, jaw tight, eyes glassy. Nigel, beneath him, gripping the sheets, moaning Zed's name now between gasps.
That was new.
That sent a bolt right into Zed's spine.
They moved faster, messier, delirious under his command. Zed leaned back again, hand pressing against his own chest as if anchoring the electricity flowing through him.
Then--
It hit.
Nigel trembled, body jerking, crying out in raw surrender. Thanos wasn't far behind, head thrown back, a guttural groan shaking his chest.
And Zed?
His head snapped back against the couch as if he too came, no touch needed. Just the release echoing through their bodies was enough to tear through him like wildfire.
He panted quietly. Composed. But within, scorched.
The silence after was deafening.
Nigel collapsed into Thanos. Thanos held him. And Zed…
Zed smiled like a god in the heavens above chaos.
"You'll be back again tomorrow."
Still not a question.
This time, they didn't hesitate.
They nodded.