Tempest in a Teacup -- celebrity

By moc.liamg@swerdna.nave.rm

Published on Oct 2, 2024

Gay

Tempest in a Teacup Chapter two: It's a Magic Number Evan Andrews 2024

This is a fan fiction.

All characters depicted in it belong to and are trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of ownership over the characters. I've given up trying to figure out where my stories fit into the DC continuity anymore.

The story depicts males in sexual situations, mostly with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please help keep Nifty going by contributing at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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In a community as closely knit as the Teen Titans, people noticed things, so Garth was not surprised when not long after he'd washed, pulled on some shorts, and donned a robe (but before he'd made a new bed) that the entire crew came to check up on their wounded comrade.

They touched him on the shoulder, patted him on the back (Roy, instead of patting, slapped him on the ass)), and generally congratulated him on being back on his feet. Once that was done, Donna, with Dick's help, put Garth into the newly made bed, but that simple attention sparked a warm glow in Garth's heart. He was the hero of the moment.

"And stay there until I tell you that you can get up!" Donna admonished him. "I'll send up breakfast in a few minutes."

And that said, she started to usher the rest of the team out of the sickroom.

"Uh, Dick, Roy," Garth said, "Could you stay behind?"

Dick looked at Donna, who shrugged. Supposing it to be some guy thing, she nodded.

"But don't get him worked up. I'll bring up enough for three."

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Once the food had been delivered and eaten (mostly by Roy) Garth got a sheepish look.

He held up the pair of stained trunks and said, "“Thanks, which ever one of you dropped by and got me off last night."

"Got you...?" Roy, still chewing, was confused.

"Yeah, I mean, at first I wrote it off as just a truly superior wet dream, but when I washed this morning I also found places where fingers had painted my body with sperm."

"Well," Dick said with a smile, "Hot as you are, the idea of Donna getting pissed off at me is enough to make keep my hands to myself."

Different teen superhero fanzines had over the years compared Dick's body (and face, and—well everything) to Garth's own. Dark, handsome, muscled, and with that barely chaste bulge in his (usually wet) sea blue trunks, the Atlantean was accounted a prize stud, true. However, he clearly stood second to the former Robin when push came to shove (which had sparked several slash fiction authors' careers in THOSE sort of fanzines over the years).

(Roy, similarly, got compared to Wally, Kid Flash, but the boy archer ignored that. His issues were never with his friend Wally, but with the lean green ego machine that was his mentor.)

"Tell us more about your dream," Dick said.

"Well, mostly what I remember was lying there while someone felt me up all over," Garth said. "Then, once the pump was well and truly primed, he..."

"He?" Roy asked, intrigued.

"I may not have your vast experience," Garth said, "But I can tell the difference between a guy's touch and a girl's."

"So, you got all hot to trot. And then..." Dick prompted.

"Then he went to town on my junk. He worked my bulge like a pro, actually. Like he knew how to bring a guy off without getting raw."

"Yeah, a pro," Roy was rubbing his own bulge by then and smiling.

Garth knew that Roy though the Atlantean needed to get laid more often—and the boy archer had offered to help his friend with that on several occasions. And Garth was pretty sure he was about to get propositioned again.

"And I came. Then the dream played though again, and I blew another load."

"And another," Dick said, looking at the sodden trunks. "Or maybe another three?"

"Like I said, I have intense dreams."

"So," Roy said, "Everything works, and here you are confined to bed by She Who Must Be Obeyed. If you think you're up to it, I wonder it..."

"Roy, you're a slut," Dick said.

"I think we established that years ago," Roy refused to take the bait.

Garth considered his friends, as he had many times before. Dick, dark hair, muscles for days, full hot ass (and on the straight side of bi just as Garth was), and Roy: ginger, lanky, and as pansexual as god made `em, made for a good contrast.

In behavior, too, Dick and Garth had been well-mentored, although Bruce could be intense as fuck, and Arthur could be distracted. Roy's mentor, Ollie, on the other hand played the playboy card to the max. Garth was sure that it was simply money that had kept CPS from removing Roy from Ollie's care—though had they known more about Ollie's sexcapades, they might have done so anyhow. And then Roy ran away, and when Ollie recovered him and found that his ward had been selling himself on the streets to afford the drugs he was addicted to, well, relations between the two got even more tense as guilt warred with disillusionment. At that same time, Garth had been experiencing prejudicial treatment from some Atlanteans—okay more than some. Fucking purple eyes, and stupid ancient superstitions.

Then, as Ollie had transferred his attentions to his blood son and Arthur had taken to mentoring other youths. In both cases, former wards and heroes had grown apart. And of course at the same time Dick was chaffing at always being cast as the boy wonder sidekick. This should have brought them together, maybe reforming the Titans. And in fact the three friends had turned to one another for support that they weren't getting at home anymore—and had occasionally gotten it on together. But it never went any further.

So now, Garth laughed at the sheepish yet interested look on Roy's face.

"Yeah, Roy, I'm up to it," he said.

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As always, one of the boys became the anchor, and in this case that was clearly going to be Garth. Donna couldn't be that pissed off if it were Dick and Roy engaging in the most demanding sexual gymnastics. Dick leaned in to kiss his buddy, and then moved aside for Roy to make his move.

"Mmm," Garth moaned.

Say what you might, but his friends really knew how to kiss. One superstud would engage Garth's lips, while the other explored the Atlantean's upper body with lips and fingers. Dick had the most experience here. (Roy was more an anal enthusiast.) Back and forth, they teased Gath silly, and then they left his mouth and moved south where little Garth was already tenting the loose shorts.

Nipple sucking on Dick's part anchored this part of the seduction as Roy grazed his way across Garth's muscular belly. They traded back and forth a few times, until finally Roy decided there'd been enough playing. The redhead worked Garth's cock out of the leg hole of his shorts and then took Garth's weeping cockhead into his mouth.

"Fuck!" Garth groaned as his dick buried itself in tight, hot throat.

Roy sucked hard and furious, and Dick dove lower and went to work on Garth's sensitive balls. The Atlantean rolled his head from side to side and teased and pinched his own nipples as his pals traded off cocksucking for ball worship duty. Balls and beyond, in fact. Garth nearly bounced out of the bed when Roy started licking his taint, moving with wicked cunning towards the Atlantean's pucker.

"Oh, fuck! Roy!"

"Thought you'd like that," the redhead smirked.

"I do, but I'm not getting fucked today!"

"Spoilsport," Roy pouted. "Here, Dick, let me have some of that cockhead and you work this ingrate's balls."

In the end, both Dick and Roy spent the better part of a quarter hour double teaming the Atlantean's junk.

"Dammit, I can't keep taking without giving," Garth complained.

The three sat up, and Dick said, "Which of us do you want to suck?"

Garth considered the cocksucking audition both had just given, and he chose.

"Dick I want you to keep blowing me, so, Roy, scoot over here to I can suck that ginger cock."

The three boys' resolved their daisy chain, and switched direction every now and again. How they could fit it all on what was a fairly narrow bed, Garth never worried himself about.

Finally, Roy looked up from sucking Dick's cock and said, "You know, your cocks taste as good as always, but my ass needs fucking!"

Pig slut indeed.

With an ease born of familiarity, the boys transposed the daisy chain into a doggie-style spit-roasting with Roy acting the part of grinning pig bottom Lucky Pierre. Dick plowed the ginger's slut mouth while Garth drilled his ass.

"Fuck!" Roy whimpered after a few minutes. "Garth, can I share my hot cunt with Dick too?"

The dark studs changed places, and Garth had the pleasure of getting his dick hoovered by Roy's professional technique again. Damn, but Roy was good at what he did!

"Okay," Garth said when he was afraid that Roy might just suck the skin off his prick, "We need to finish this before I pass out and before Donna catches us and exiles you two to Gar's doghouse. Roy, get on your stomach!"

The grinning redhead assumed the position, and Garth drill fucked his buddy—hard! Roy actually had to gag himself with Garth's scummy sleeping trunks to keep from screaming. Soon Roy's 8 ½ inches let loose and fouled the sheets beneath him. Then Garth switched and took Dick on his back.

The Atlantean did this so that he could look Dick in the eyes as he screwed him to orgasm. It was never not a good show. Dick, who had spent years taking dick as the Boy Hostage and knew how to put on a good show, snatched the sodden sleeping trunks from Roy's mouth and shoved them in his own to keep from crying out as his 9 inch cock unloaded—painting his abs with sperm.

"Your turn?" Roy asked eagerly. Roy was a cum slut, too.

"You know it!"

Pushing Garth onto his back again, Dick and Roy went back to worshiping the ample Atlantean cock. And then Garth felt fingers, two men's worth of fingers at that, slide up his ass and go after his prostate.

"Fuck!" Garth gasped, "Yeah, do me like that! Take my hole!"

Sucking and fingerfucking their friend, Dick and Roy worked like Trojans until Garth visibly stiffened.

"I'm cumming!" the Atlantean announced, and his cock let loose.

You might think that after the number of orgasms Garth had achieved during the night, his balls might be empty, but that proved not to be the case. Ropes of sperm blasted across his belly, and when his dick had indulged in its last spasm he went limp.

"We broke him," Roy said.

"Hardly," Dick said, "But maybe we should leave hm to sleep."

Licking up the aquatic hero's jizz, Dick and Roy shared it before leaving their friend to engage in a suck and cuddle session of their own.

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It took a while (and a couple of more visits from his male friends) before Garth moved from infirmary to a bed set up in the sunroom. The higher humidity needed for the conservatory plants, made it more comfortable. Not to mention that it was easier for Dick and Roy to pay their fuckbuddy visits—and even to bring along other Teen Titan cock-wielders to bond with their Atlantean teammate. Gar was a beast--sometimes literally; Cyborg proved to be a merciless fucking machine; and Jericho fucked like he saw right into your soul and knew what you really desired.

It was possibly the happiest period of his life to date, not because of the sex, but because of the simple sense of belonging.

`It's too good to last,' Garth thought.

He was right.

Next: Chapter 3


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