C

“hey.” the lead singer of Spiritbox, Courtney LaPlante, is preceded only by the clacking of her black knee-high boots echoing as she walks the hall backstage towards you. “heard we had our number one fan in the house tonight.”

you flush instantly, embarrassed. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll vouch for her.” the voice comes from behind you, Noah chiming in from where he’s leaned against cool, white concrete, arms crossed over his chest.

you hadn’t even noticed him exit the green room to meet you. 

“it’s Spiritbox on repeat. all day, every day,” he tells Courtney.  

“stop it. I’m trying to look cool in front of Courtney. you’re ruining it,” you whine, only half-serious. “I told Noah not to say anything.” you shoot him a sideways glare, but he’s completely unruffled. (read: rather pleased with himself.) “he knows how much I love you—I mean, your band, obviously.” Noah’s smirk grows bigger by the second. 

you’re cute when you get all rambly and nervous. starstruck is a new look for you.

“obviously,” he parrots, grinning like the menace he is.

when he got the call about performing Spiritbox’s song “Holy Roller” on stage with them, he knew he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. it was a combination of admiring their work as a band and knowing you’d never speak to him again if he didn’t.

“if you’re trying to play it cool, then I think maybe you’re a little out of your depth here, baby, but best behavior, I promise.” Noah chuckles, his cheeky grin widening from ear to ear as he raises his hands in surrender.

“he’s such a brat,” you tell Courtney with an affectionate roll of your eyes.

Courtney laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes your heart skip a beat. you just got done watching her command the stage like she was born there, but up close, she’s somehow even more magnetic, and suddenly, you’re all too aware that you have her full, undivided attention. 

“sounds like you’ve got your hands full with this one,” she says, looking between you and Noah.

he pushes off the wall, stepping up behind you to lean down and kiss your temple. “she loves me.”

“unfortunately,” you huff teasingly, patting his cheek and cupping his chin affectionately. “he’s all bark, mostly. sometimes a little bite, but it’s always consensual. isn’t that right?”

a knowing smile plays at the corners of Courtney’s mouth.

Noah grins unabashedly. “woof.”

“see what I mean?” you say, shaking your head. “total brat.”

“well, brats are more fun,” Courtney points out.

“exactly.” Noah pouts. “you should be thanking me.”

“nice try.” Courtney seems like she understands his brand of mischief, like she’s already sized him up and made her determination. mostly harmless, she supposes, though definitely a glutton for punishment. “let me know if you need any help teaching him a lesson in submission. I know a thing or two about how to handle a brat like him. bet he’s a well-trained puppy once you put him on a leash.”

you blink as if expecting that offer, and her, to disappear in the instant it takes. it doesn’t, and she’s still standing in front of you with something like expectancy in her eyes. 

so, not just a figment of your imagination.

“you mean that?”

“I’m not reading the vibe wrong, am I?”

“no. no, not at all,” you rush to answer.

“I think what she means to say…” Noah butts in, “...is that you’re welcome to try,” he challenges.

Courtney arches an eyebrow and glances at you as if to confirm you’re hearing this too, right? 

you stifle a giggle. 

well, she can dish out the audacity right back. 

“like it’ll be hard.” Courtney doesn’t miss a beat. “where are you staying?”

you and Noah exchange a look—

cut to falling in through the door of your hotel room. 

Noah shucks off his jacket to the side, revealing the glimpse of black leather you know to be there regardless of whether he hides it under his stage clothes or not. 

“pretty collar,” Courtney comments. Noah’s cheeks flush pink. 

he can’t help that someone close to him recognizing it for what it’s for—a mark of ownership, evidence of your claim on him—causes a stirring of his already hard cock that cannot be ignored. 

“you want to fuck her?” Courtney cups the length of him through his joggers, evidently pleased with what she finds, but schooling her face not to show it.

Noah mumbles a breathy “yes”, already succumbing to the desperation he feels longing to be inside you.

“that’s just too bad, because I don’t think you deserve it just yet,” she tsks. “bet you’d do anything to earn it though, wouldn’t you, pretty boy?”

she guides you backwards towards the bed, all while tugging Noah along behind you with a finger hooked in his belt loop. 

he’s there when your back hits the mattress with a soft thud, salivating wishing he was in Courtney’s place—mouthing over the fabric of your panties, breathing you in. he wishes it was his lips ghosting over your swollen clit, her kiss ensuring the slickness between your thighs only grows.

“I’m gonna eat your girlfriend out—” Courtney teases despite Noah’s whines. it isn’t lost on her the effect her words have on him, in fact, the very opposite. “—I know, I know, that’s your favorite, isn’t it?—I’m gonna work her up nice and slow for my strap.” 

Noah pouts, boba eyes pleading. 

“aw, don’t be jealous. you can watch… and maybe, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you taste her from my lips. you do want a taste, don’t you? bet she has such a pretty pussy.”

Noah nods feverishly.

Courtney’s being cruel at this point, trailing kisses up your thigh with one eye on Noah, knowing full well she’s not going to let him have a taste. not until she’s had her fun.

she’s perfectly content to limit him to the mere role of holding your thighs open for her, back against the headboard as he drags you into his lap, his calloused palms delightfully rough against your most sensitive skin. 

“yeah?” you squirm in anticipation as Courtney finally tugs your panties down enough to give herself room to work. “I think she does too,” she whispers almost conspiratorially. 

she spreads you open with her thumbs and croons admiringly, then spits, her saliva highlighting your puffy and swollen clit right before she sucks it into her mouth. 

you writhe underneath her, your thighs flexing in tandem with waves of pleasure that roll over you while powerless to move except for grinding your ass torturously against Noah’s hard-on underneath you, your own underwear acting as a form of restraint. Courtney seems to delight in your helplessness, only emerging from between your thighs when you can scarcely keep from shaking, with eyes that look up at you as if anything but satiated and her chin slick with your arousal.

you’re glad for the brief respite when she fixes her attention instead on Noah, who’s mesmerized by the glisten of your juices coating her mouth as he licks his own lips.

she cocks her head. 

“beg for it.”

Noah stares, tongue tied, mouth agape, eyes darting between you and Courtney. “what do you want, Noah?” she strokes his face with one hand, her smile sickeningly sweet when he whimpers as she makes a show of lapping the last of your wetness from around her mouth. “beg for it,” she tells him again, louder.

when he finally brings himself to make eye contact, she nods, encouraging him to obey, but he’s already so fucked he can barely string the words together. 

you can tell by the way she’s looking at you, it’s only about to get worse. 

“funny, you had a lot to say before.” Courtney bats her lashes at Noah. “what, cat got your tongue?” 

she seems to enjoy the way she’s rendered Noah speechless as she delves back in for seconds, her hand curling around your hip as she fucks her tongue as deep inside you as she can reach. 

she’s eating you out in earnest, and all Noah can do is watch, his nails leaving crescent marks where they dig into your thighs in an effort to restrain himself from acting on every impulse that screams for him to take her place. his eyes are glued to your cunt where it rocks against Courtney’s tongue, practically rolling back into his head at the sight. “god, that’s fucking hot,” he breathes. 

he’s convinced the sounds you make will forever be immortalized in his mind, pleasure etched into every syllable as you ride out a second orgasm on her mouth. your hips stutter through the oversensitivity, one hand in Courtney’s dark hair and your other over top of Noah’s heavily inked hand resting on your thigh.

he thinks he’s being sneaky with the way his free hand palms his bulge over his stage pants, but Courtney promptly slaps his hand away.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.” she looks to you. “did we give him permission?”

you shake your head.

“didn’t think so,” Courtney chides, “but I’m gonna let it slide this time, and I’m still going to let you have a taste. isn’t that nice of me, pup?” 

silence. 

“speak.”

“yes—”

“good mutt.” it’s like she’s hit the factory reset button with the way Noah’s eyes glaze over. “open your mouth.”

he’s quick to obey, tongue out, as Courtney takes his chin in hand and spits in his mouth.

he whines.

“what? that wasn’t enough?” 

Noah shakes his head, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows eagerly. 

“so greedy.” she drags a finger through your wetness, her thumb brushing over his lips as she smears your arousal around his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste.

one manicured nail hovers just above the wet patch he’s made with his precum alone. “you’re leaking, baby,” she croons, walking her fingers across his impressive bulge. 

she must have pity on him because she kisses him then, Noah desperately licking into every inch of her mouth trying to get a taste of you.

“told you I know how to handle boys like him,” she assures you when he’s breathless and heaving. “I think she’s ready for my strap. do you want my cock, baby?”

“please,” you beg, Courtney’s answering chuckle sending a shock straight through to your core. you wiggle your hips on the bed, and Courtney shimmies your underwear down your thighs, tugging them from your legs.

“Noah’s gonna get it nice and wet for you,” she murmurs, securing the harness. she enlists your help to make sure it rests comfortably on her hips and around her thighs, and your excitement only grows as you realize the prime view you’ll have above you.

“kiss the tip, baby.” she holds up the dildo expectantly, waiting for Noah to do as she says. 

his blush matches the pink of the toy as he shyly leans forward to plant a kiss to the slit, then sticks out his tongue for her to slap weighted silicone against it. 

“good dog.” the resounding thwap of silicone sounds in the room. “now suck.” Noah hollows out his cheeks.

“baby,” Courtney tuts, “like you mean it. like it’s a real cock. I know you know how you like yours to be sucked, and I expect the same treatment.”

he bobs up and down on her length with renewed fervor, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth. let it never be said that Noah Sebastian doesn’t know how to deepthroat cock.

“there you go,” she coaxes. “take it deeper. gag on it. look at her while you do.” Noah’s brown eyes find yours, bright with unshed tears as he endeavors to prove the lengths he’d go to please you. to make you proud. “that’s right, you’re doing it for her,” Courtney praises, the room quiet except for Noah’s soft glugging noises.

“you didn’t tell me he’s a pretty lil size king,” she croons, petting his cheek as she wipes the tears that spill over. oxygen floods his system as she withdraws to admire his debauched form, red-faced and drooling. “breathe. in and out through your nose. 

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now.”

she begins to rock her hips, Noah’s throat bulging in his eagerness to swallow around the length of it. all six inches. 

and you have a front row seat. 

“that’s it. so eager to please,” Courtney croons. “he looks so cute drooling around my cock, doesn’t he?” she frowns. “makes me wish I could feel.” her thumb brushes the drool running down his chin as she taps the back of his throat and holds there, withdrawing in a string of spit as he chokes and gasps for air. 

“spit on it,” Courtney holds up the head of the silicone strap to his lips as he obeys, a glob of his saliva sliding down the tip.

he scrambles to get out of his remaining clothes and into the position she assigns him, fucking you over his face—you on all fours and him on his back—and you sigh as she purposely catches the head on your clit. she takes her time rubbing it back and forth, each pass eased by the added slickness of Noah’s spit and drool, as she builds your anticipation for the moment your needy pussy will finally be filled.

your hips grind down in their impatience to try and get more friction while Noah’s mouth remains open to catch even a drop of your wetness. 

“I bet you could come just from this, huh? feels good, doesn’t it?” Courtney croons. 

“please,” you plead.

“‘please’ what?”

“it’s not enough.”

“no?” she tsks. “what is?”

“need to feel it in my pussy.” 

“and how does that make you feel?” Courtney teases Noah. “knowing she’s begging for my cock while yours is practically weeping?”

Noah whimpers in his desperation, hips bucking in air until she reaches for him. 

in an extra layer of sadism, she lines the dildo up against his hard cock, as if comparing the length of each. his precum drips onto the silicone, and his breath catches when she uses it to give a little slap to his shaft and his balls, his unexpected squeeze of your ass coaxing a gasp out of you.

next thing you know, you’re moaning as she sinks inside you with a debaucherous squelch.

“look at her…” Courtney croons, “already creaming on my cock.” her hand cradles Noah’s chin, coaxing his tongue to latch onto your clit. “clean it up.”

his tongue eagerly laps where your arousal froths around your folds, stretched tight around Courtney’s girthy strap.

she thrusts into you, perched on one hand as with her other she slips her thumb into Noah’s mouth, using it to rub your clit. “such a good pet, being of use to us like this,” Courtney praises. “good puppies let their domina use them as she sees fit, isn’t that right?”

he lets out a pleased hum. 

Noah is as fervent in his worship of your cunt as Courtney is in her determination to leave you weak-kneed and puddled on the mattress. 

every roll of her hips is calculated to draw out the pleasure. she’s only satisfied when you’re bordering on overwhelm, gasping, Noah’s own breath hitching with the scratch of your nails digging into his thighs as his tongue dutifully suckles your arousal as it leaks from between your thighs. 

you’re so absorbed by your own bliss, you almost miss it. the telling moan that vibrates through your core, the spurt of cum signaling his orgasm. you know it’s a fantasy of his, to be used. his coming hands-free? beautifully pathetic. 

“oh, look at that… he already came.” Courtney frowns, eyeing the puddle pooling in his navel and Noah’s embarrassed flush. “I thought you wanted to fuck her.” her tone is one of faux disappointment as she swirls a manicured nail through the mess. Noah nods furiously, practically pleading. “you do? up, puppy.” she taps his hip.

Courtney has Noah nudge you gently on your back, settling over top of you both as she grasps his cock to glide it through your folds, just shy of your entrance. Noah hisses at the contact. “this is your chance. go ahead, puppy.” 

Noah bucks his hips, whimpering at the friction. 

“what’s wrong? too sensitive?” 

he whines pitifully. 

“that’s too bad.” Courtney is all but empathetic. “let me help you.” 

Courtney’s hands on his hips leave Noah no choice but to seat himself inside you once more, his cock trembling inside your cunt at the same time as she slips a lubed finger inside his ass. 

his thrusts are shallow at first, a slow rocking of his hips as warmth unfurls in his belly and the addition of a second finger has him arching greedily in search of more. it comes in the form of her strap as she fucks him under the guise of aiding him in fucking you, her hands pushing his hips into yours as you shimmy to fuck yourself back on his cock in rhythm with his thrusts.

even like this, he fucks like only he can, nudging up against your sweet spot in a way that has your hands grasping his freckled shoulders for dear life. no one can satisfy a craving to be filled like his cock splitting you open, demanding purchase inside your cunt. 

he revels in being nothing more than a toy for you to use, grunting and shuddering all the while with his cock trapped between you, still oversensitive, but doing nothing to stop Courtney, just gritting his teeth as she ruts against his ass and your pussy seeks to milk him for all he’s worth. 

you feel him twitch inside you every time she taps his prostate, his breathing hot and heavy in your ear. he’s unraveling; the way you clench around him—like you’re trying to suck him in and keep him there, memorizing every inch, every vein, even though you’ve had him a hundred times before and you’ll have him a hundred more—only making it worse. 

all it takes is you coming to push him over the edge. “baby,” he gasps, voice cracking. “I’m—” his back bows. 

“no, you don’t get to come inside,” Courtney tuts, sliding his hips free and taking hold of his cock as it slips from inside you only for him to hump the air. “you get to paint your pretty tummy.”

pearly translucent strings of cum spurt across Courtney’s palm and Noah’s stomach as her hand pins his shaft taut against his navel. 

another bead wells at the tip with the press of her manicured nail against his frenulum, trailing oh-so-tantalizingly down his v-line for Courtney to lap it up, her tongue teasing as she licks what’s left of the cum dribbling from his sensitive tip. then, with a hand grasping his shaft and balls, she nudges the head of his cock into your clit with a soft shlick as you ride out your orgasm against him. incorrigible. 

Noah’s stomach muscles flutter tantalizingly as he struggles to hold himself above you, his glistening abdomen dipping down to press against your sweat-slicked skin as your lips meet his in a clash of teeth and tongue, trying to communicate everything you can’t say. 

thank you. 

I love you. 

I won’t take you for granted.

until finally you both find yourselves on your backs, panting. 

“such a good pet.” Courtney looks up through long lashes at a dazed Noah. “it was a treat to play with you. I can see why she doesn’t make a habit of sharing,” she says. “she’s got you perfectly trained. you might play at acting out from time to time, but all you want is to be her favorite toy, and my, my, you are the perfect plaything. 

“thank you… for sharing her with me,” Courtney murmurs softly. “and if you ever need help with a certain brat…” she blows you a kiss. “I’m around.”

“you’re not staying?”

Courtney shakes her head. “big interview day tomorrow.” she starts collecting her things. “but I had to give my number one fan the special treatment,” she adds, glancing back over her shoulder as she smooths down her skirt.

“I’ll say,” you giggle, feeling your limbs melt further into the mattress by the second as a testament to her treatment.

Courtney pauses by the door on her way out. “it was nice to meet you. you’re everything Noah’s said and more.”

“all good things, I hope.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever heard him talk about anyone the way he talks about you.”

“okay… that’s enough sharing,” Noah mumbles from where he’s buried his face in your shoulder, embarrassed. 

“you’re doing it wrong,” Nick points out to Noah, who’s currently trying to pitch your tent for the night. (rather unsuccessfully.)

it had been Folio’s idea to get away on a camping trip over the weekend, just the three of you, nevermind that you and Noah are both a little… green.

Noah’s never been camping a day in his life, and it shows. “dude,” Nick mutters, eyeing Noah’s work critically, “you can’t just clip it in place, you’ve got to feed the pole through first.”

Noah doesn’t even spare him a glance. “shut up, I know what I’m doing,” Noah retorts. he stubbornly clips yet another section of tent to the pole ribbing, and it sags almost immediately, collapsing as soon as he steps back into a sad, polyester puddle.

Nick has to laugh, but at least he’s good-humored about it. 

“this tent’s stupid,” Noah grumbles. “remind me again why we couldn’t get a cabin?”

“we wanted to experience the great outdoors,” Nick emphasizes, clearly trying to coax Noah into feeling his same level of enthusiasm.

“ugh.” Noah crosses his arms and flops down on the nearby picnic table, making a hurdle of his long ass legs. “great outdoors, my ass.”

Folio just chuckles, able to finish setting up the tent with ease. he turns to Noah with a satisfied smirk. “see? easy. a five-year-old could do it.”

“yeah, okay, I see why you were able to now. that makes so much sense,” Noah deadpans.

Folio rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at him. “real mature, Noah.”

“says the guy sticking out his tongue at me,” Noah remarks, returning the gesture just as childishly.

“you’re both hopeless,” you sigh, reaching over to poke Noah in the stomach. he yelps dramatically and bats your hand away as, right on cue, his stomach lets out a low, pitiful growl.  

“I’m hungry,” you pout, plopping down beside him on the bench.

“food does sound good,” Noah agrees. 

you’d been driving for at least three hours before arriving at the park, and the last thing any of you had was coffee and a bag of chips split between you. anyway, that hardly constitutes a proper meal.

“hot dogs work for everyone?” Nick asks, rummaging through the cooler.

“hot dogs are perfect,” you say.

“now, who wants to go find sticks for the fire?”

“if we had a cabin, we wouldn’t have to find sticks for a fire because we’d have a stove,” Noah says pointedly.

“wrong,” Folio disagrees. “everyone knows food over a campfire tastes better.”

“we’ll go,” you volunteer yourself and Noah. this whole camping thing is Nick’s rodeo anyway. you and Noah are mostly just along for the ride. he’ll probably have an easier time setting up with the two of you out of his hair.

“wait, what?” Noah lets out a surprised yelp as you drag him off, stumbling a few steps before finding his balance and succumbing to the pull of your hand as you tug him toward the treeline. “I never agreed to this.”

“try not to get eaten by bears!” Folio calls after you with a smirk.

Noah freezes, his eyes widening. “are there really bears around here?”

you shake your head, amused. you’re not exactly deep in the wilderness. the campground is nestled between two highways, not in the middle of some remote forest. 

the woods aren’t dense, really. more of a scattered border of trees that gives the illusion of seclusion. cars hum in the distance now and then, reminding you civilization’s still only a few hundred feet away, but the park still has the added benefit of feeling like you’re somewhere else entirely; something you want Noah to take full advantage of. at the very least, he promised to put his phone on ‘do not disturb’. 

no work calls, no lurking on social media, no stressing over the latest music deadline. 

“relax, the chances of us running into a bear are pretty slim. besides, they’re mostly harmless.”

“key word: mostly,” Noah shoots back, keeping a suspicious eye on the shadows in the forest as his gaze flicks between trees. “and I’m especially gonna make note of the fact that the—chances—are not zero.”

he looks like he’s half-expecting the trunks themselves to grow claws and teeth.

“Nick’s messing with you,” you reassure him, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

Noah lets out a long-suffering sigh and looks up at the sky, a near-perfect day for early spring. “I swear he lives just to torment me. I don’t know why I put up with him.”

you glance over at him, your smile softening as you bump his side with yours. “same reason you and I both came on this trip.”

there’s a place for him with you and Noah, but only Nick can decide where he wants to belong, and whether that’s with the two of you.

“I think Nick only invited us so he’d have free manual labor.”

“because you setting up the tent went so well.” 

“hey!” he shoots you a wounded glare. “I volunteered to set up camp out of the pure goodness of my heart. I did my best. sorry I’m not Nick, ‘Lord of the Tents’.”

“uh-huh. well, joke’s on him because neither of us have ever started a fire.”

​​behind you, a distant voice calls out, “you guys dead yet?”

Folio.

you both groan in unison.

“it can’t be that hard, right?” Noah says.

famous last words.

back at camp, the pile of sticks you and Noah collected lies beside the rusted metal fire pit while Nick crouches in front of it, eyeing each piece like he’s drawing up a mental blueprint for the world’s greatest feat of architecture.

“okay,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “we’re going to go with a classic teepee build. newspaper and kindling go in the middle, with larger sticks leaned against each other over top.” he demonstrates a triangle by bringing his fingers together, tips pointing upward and touching. “then we add the logs. this is a delicate, precise—”

“I wanna light it,” Noah cuts in, nudging Nick with the toe of his boot.

“dude—”

“I brought the sticks,” Noah continues, undeterred. “I should get to light it. that’s only fair.”

you don’t bother to correct him that it was thanks to both of your efforts.

Nick deigns to construct the teepee himself, rightly trusting neither of you with the task, although he does eventually hand over the honor of lighting it to Noah. probably because he knows he’d never hear the end of it otherwise.

he’s already regretting his decision when Noah picks up two sticks from the pile like he’s starring in a survival show and begins rubbing them together while Nick looks on, appalled. “what are you doing?”

“starting a fire. duh.”

“Noah,” Nick says with the slow patience of someone speaking to a toddler. “we use a lighter. because, you know, we’re not in the Cub Scouts.”

“could’ve fooled me,” Noah snarks, not un-saltily, but he takes the lighter in Nick’s outstretched hand anyway, watching with a tinge of unhinged glee on his face as the paper he holds it to catches with a soft whoomph of heat.

“happy, you little pyro?” Nick mutters.

“ecstatic,” comes Noah’s reply, the flames reflected in his eyes as the fire flares brightly.

Noah’s marshmallow is on fire. 

again.

he holds it up, squinting as it crackles and blackens on the skewer, flames curling up the sides that he tries to blow out.

“I meant to do that,” he says flatly, watching it smoke.

Nick doesn’t even look up. he’s too busy crisping his marshmallow to golden brown perfection.

“sure you did,” he mutters.

“I like it that way.”

you reach for a graham cracker, ready to assemble your s’more, and when you look his way, Nick is leaning back with a smug little grin, his marshmallow perfectly golden, the chocolate already melting into the graham as he takes a bite.

show-off.

“you’ve got a little something,” you say, nodding toward the smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth.

he raises a brow. “where?”

you lean in closer, your knees brushing as you take his chin in your hand, licking your thumb and gently wiping the smudge away. 

his eyes make you falter for the briefest of seconds—warm brown, almost amber in this light, steady, curious—drawing you in. then, just because you can, you press a soft kiss to the spot.

Nick blinks, momentarily surprised, but then he grins, and even in the low light, you can see the faint flush that blooms across his cheeks.

“what was that for?”

you shrug innocently. “what can I say? I have a sweet tooth.” 

“what about me?” Noah pipes up, clearly not one to be left out.

you turn just in time to watch—equal parts curious and horrified—as Noah smears a thick streak of chocolate across his bottom lip with one swipe of his finger.

“there,” he says, facing you with big, pitiful puppy dog eyes and chocolate war paint as he puckers up.

you stare incredulously at him for a long moment. Nick snorts. and just like that, the two of you dissolve into giggles.

he’s ridiculous. absolutely. but it’s kind of adorable.

“c’mere, you menace.”

you cradle Noah’s jaw in your palm as you pull him in for your kiss—slow and tender at first, then deeper and more passionate all at once. with him, it’s always too much in all the best ways. it’s either tooth-rotting or toe-curling, and there’s no in between. 

he practically melts into you, making happy, contented little noises as your tongue gently brushes against his bottom lip. you tug it between your teeth, and when you slip your tongue into his mouth, he tastes of honey and chocolate, every bit as sweet as he is.

when you finally pull back, he’s gazing at you with a dreamy, lovestruck expression, seemingly dazed and out of breath. the warmth of the fire has nothing on the heat rushing to his cheeks, tinging them a soft rosy hue. his hair is a mess from your fingers, and he looks so damn cute you can’t help but want to ruin it—and him—more. 

so, at the very least, you give in to the former.

a mischievous smirk curls at your lips as you reach up, ruffling his hair so his already messy brunette locks fall even more haphazardly across his forehead and into his eyes. it softens him, makes him look even more the sweet boy you know him to be, rumpled and adoring and utterly bewitched by you.

Noah makes a small sound of protest, a faint crease between his brows like he’s pretending to be annoyed trying to fend off your hands.

“hey!” he whines. “quit it.”

you only lean in and give his cheek an exaggeratedly wet kiss in response, leaving behind a faint imprint of the chocolate that had rubbed off on you.

whine as he might, it’s all for show. despite the pout, he can’t keep the smile off his face. he loves the attention, and you both know it.

“okay… truth or dare?” Folio leans across the fire ring, a marshmallow stick dangling from his lips.

Noah groans from where he’s sprawled out beside you, his thigh pressed against yours. “truth or dare is a kids game.”

“that depends how you play it.”

you shrug. “I’m game.”

“yeah, sure. why not,” Noah relents.

you go around in circles for a bit. Nick has to sing a terrible camp song, and he immediately launches into a loud, off-key rendition of “99 Bottles of Beer” that drags on far past Noah’s pleas for him to stop. you confess to an embarrassing first celebrity crush. Nick dares Noah to sprint into the lake, fully clothed… except then you both have to endure him shaking his dripping hair all over you like a wet dog. meanwhile, your eyes wander toward his glaring bulge, more obvious than ever. 

him and his fucking short shorts.

you lick your lips.

it’s dumb fun… until it isn’t. 

“your turn,” Nick says, looking at you now as his face becomes unreadable. the game suddenly feels a lot less like a joke. “truth or dare?”

you hold his gaze. “truth.”

“when you said you were open to the right third, did you really mean me?”

Noah goes still beside you. the fire crackles in the silence, emitting a shower of sparks as the logs shift.

you don’t hesitate. “yes.” you look him in the eyes, chin up. 

“I have a truth for you, too, Nick,” you say.

“shoot.”

“do you want to be?”

there’s a catch in his breath, like he’s been holding it for that question. “yeah,” Nick admits, “but… I don’t really know how this works.” he looks at the both of you, swallowing hard. “does that mean we’re a couple now?” 

“it can mean whatever you want it to mean,” you offer kindly. “you want to explore your submissive side, right?” he nods slowly, uncertainty etched on his face. “so we take it slow.”

“what if I don’t have a clue what I’m doing? it doesn’t bother you that I’m not… experienced?”

“if anything, I’m just honored to be someone you trust to have your best interests at heart while you experience a lot of firsts. no one expects you to be one hundred percent from the start. I thought I had to have it all together when I first dommed Noah. I was nervous as hell. but a true partner will meet you where you are. Noah did, and look at us now.”

Noah smiles softly, his fingers tightening around yours, grounding you.

you glance down at your intertwined hands, then reach out with your other hand and take Folio’s too, threading your fingers between his.

“you don’t need to be perfect,” you reassure him. “there’s no such thing. and anyway, learning is a part of being human. Noah and I are still learning. I don’t think you ever really stop.”

“most important thing,” Noah adds, “is to be honest with your partner and yourself. all the time, but especially as you’re figuring things out, like what you want from your dynamic and boundaries you may have.”

Nick clears his throat. “and if I don’t know what I want yet?”

“then that’s step one,” Noah tells him. “learning what you want. and you don’t have to do it alone. you already know who you want to do it with.”

“okay,” Nick exhales softly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “that helps.”

you squeeze both their hands. “good. okay,” you say in an attempt to lighten the vibe, “new round. Nick. truth or dare?”

“dare.”

you flash him a devilish grin, the kind that spells nothing but trouble, and he knows it. “I dare you to kiss Noah.”

Nick blinks. “what?”

Noah almost chokes. “what?”

your grin turns saccharine. “what? you said dare. you can always pick truth…. you’re telling me you’ve never kissed one of your bandmates before?”

Nick narrows his eyes at you like he knows exactly what you’re doing, shoots you a look like you know exactly why he’s never crossed that line of just a bandmate with Noah. then again, he supposes if that were true he shouldn’t have been a spectator to his best friend having sinfully hot sex with you. maybe then he wouldn’t have opened the door to exploring with you in whatever form it takes... because something in his expression says he’s trying his hardest not to give away that he might be into the idea and for more than just your benefit.

Noah looks like he’s buffering. you’ve joked before that pretty boys should kiss more often, but the moment it’s about him and Nick, it’s like his brain bluescreens.

Nick rolls his shoulders back, stands up slow. “fine.”

you would’ve never expected him to straddle Noah’s lap like he does, and you can tell he’s not quite sure what to do with his hands. Noah goes as still as a statue before awkwardly resting his palms on Nick’s thighs, and you watch as Nick’s breath hitches.

“comfortable?” you ask, grinning.

Nick just glares at you. 

“you know, if you’re feeling too chicken, you could always just kiss his cheek,” you tease.

“nuh uh, I don’t do half-assing.”

stubborn bastard. 

they have that in common.

he finally finds a place for his hands, one cupping Noah’s jaw, bringing their faces closer together, while the other finds his back. Noah’s lips part slightly, and you catch him subconsciously licking them, dry and chapped from the combination of the chill night air and the heat of the fire. 

Nick’s eyes flick down to those lips, then back up, before he leans in and covers them with his own, and they’re kissing, tongue and all. 

you whistle, watching as Noah’s face reddens and he goes shy when Nick pulls away.

Nick abruptly lifts off Noah’s lap, muttering something about how “that was the worst dare ever.” Noah won’t make eye contact for the next few minutes, but Nick sits back down next to him instead of across from the pair of you, and it’s impossible to ignore the way their knees touch or the increasingly undeniable pull between the two of them. it’s a string you can’t help but want to tug.

you, however, feeling very smug, pop a marshmallow into your mouth and say nothing at all.

“alright,” you say an hour or so later as you stand from the log, stretching your arms overhead with a groan. “I’m braving the bathroom. I need to brush my teeth.”

Nick immediately perks up, sitting a little straighter. “we’ll go with you.”

the path crunches underfoot as the three of you leave the campsite behind and head down the gravel trail toward the restrooms, Nick sweeping the beam of his flashlight across the brush on either side like he’s expecting to catch a ghost. “feels kinda spooky, huh?”

“only when you narrate it like a horror movie,” you mutter. 

no way in hell are you going to admit that if it weren’t for your two tall, tatted bodyguards, you’d probably be halfway back to the campsite by now, all because of the wind rustling some leaves. the majority of the comfort of their presence is at least knowing they’d get eaten first.

Noah sidles closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “you know, this is exactly how those Supernatural episodes start. group of friends, full moon, suspiciously quiet woods…”

“yeah, but nothing’s gonna happen while we’re here,” Nick says, attempting at least a modicum of reassurance.

“because you could fend off a werewolf,” Noah challenges.

Nick puffs up his chest heroically. “I’ve been working out.”

you’re halfway to the bathroom when Nick suddenly stops.

“wait—what’s that?” he says, swinging his flashlight toward the trees.

you turn, following the beam of light just as a rustle cuts through the brush.

“nope,” you say, heart rate already spiking. “nope, nope—don’t mess with me right now.”

you turn around, but before you can move back in the direction you came, Noah lunges from behind with a wild “RAHH!!!”

his fingers dig into your sides as he tickles you without mercy, and you let out a soft shriek, twisting away and laughing at the same time despite yourself.

“gotcha.”

“I hate you both.” you shove Noah towards the men’s room door, pale yellow light flickering weakly in the darkness. “now go do whatever it is you do for such stupidly perfect skincare.”

“nothing,” he says conspiratorially. 

“god, I hate you,” you grumble, your tone saying you feel anything but. “how does it feel to be god’s favorite?”

“like a walking commercial.”

“brat.” 

“any excuse to get underneath you,” Noah quips cheekily. then, to Folio, “you’ll find out how good the sex is when you get her riled soon enough.”

the air between you thickens, charged with a playful, electric tension that makes your pulse quicken.

“don’t corrupt my new plaything,” you scold Noah playfully.

Nick, who’s been quiet until now, finally speaks up... “well, baby,” he drawls, “I hate to break it to you, but the damage has already been done…”

in bed, you’re sandwiched between the two of them. you’ve arranged your sleeping bags in a row, the ceiling flaps of your tent unzipped so you can see through the mesh screen to the night sky and the stars beyond. a cool breeze rustles the leaves of the trees above you and caresses your skin, and Noah shivers beside you. 

“you cold?” you ask, surprised. he’s usually the one radiating enough body heat to qualify as your own personal space heater.

“maybe a little,” he admits. “could’ve brought extra blankets.”

“but then we wouldn’t have the excuse to cuddle.” you lift the edge of your sleeping bag invitingly. “come here.”

he nestles closer to your side, his nose brushing your shoulder.

“plenty of room on this side, too,” you say, reaching back to find Nick’s hand and give it a gentle tug.

the sleeping bags slowly turn into a tangle—zippers half undone, edges overlapping. Nick’s hand rests lightly on your stomach, thumb tracing slow, thoughtless circles, while Noah curls in toward you from the other side, his thigh between yours, arm resting loosely around your middle.

“is this what a world without light pollution looks like?” Noah murmurs, used to the L.A. sky.

“you can actually see Orion.” you tilt your head back, eyes wide with awe. “and that’s supposed to be like the easiest one to find.”

“there’s the Big Dipper,” Nick remarks, “and the little one.” he points at a vague curve of tiny stars. “that bright one over there?” he nods towards the last star of the Little Dipper’s handle, “is the North Star.”

“of course you know that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“just that it’s exactly the sort of thing a guy who lives out his days in Carhartt would know,” Noah comments.

“hey, don’t knock the Carhartt life. it’s a lifestyle.”

“just as long as I’ve got you in the zombie apocalypse,” Noah mumbles. “do you also know how to hotwire a car or make a Molotov cocktail?”

“just because I’m generally handy doesn’t mean I know how to do any of those things.”

“but do you?”

Nick hesitates. “I plead the fifth.”

you stifle a laugh, biting your lip. “don’t ever change.”

“yeah, yeah, goodnight,” Nick grumbles.

Noah, on the other hand, is already halfway asleep, his eyelids heavy as he presses a barely-there kiss to your shoulder. “g’night.”

“night,” you whisper back.

there’s a beat of quiet, and then Folio’s voice from behind you, dry as ever, “don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

you shiver. “gross.”

you wake to the feeling of a tongue lapping up your folds, only to find your sleep shorts halfway down your thighs and your panties to the side. “what’re you doing?” you peer at Noah through one open eye as you rub sleep from the other. “do you wanna wake Nick up?”

“don’t care about Nick,” he mumbles into you, his morning voice rough and you sensitive as the vibration pulses through your pussy.

“good morning to you too,” Nick murmurs, shifting to stretch his arms next to you as he yawns.

Noah only nuzzles closer after shimmying your panties further down your hips, his nose nudging your clit before latching onto the bud with perfect suction.

“oh, shit,” you groan, “right there.” your fingers tangle in Noah’s hair, holding him in place.

it’s a lovely start to a lovely morning. dappled sunlight through the leaves, birds chirping, the smell of woodsmoke from another camper’s fire, and your boyfriend’s tongue leaving a smattering of wet kisses all over your cunt, uncaring of how filthy it sounds as he gets sloppy with it. 

“should I start making breakfast?” Nick squints at you with an arm over his face. “give you two some privacy–?”

“mm, the only meal I’m concerned with is right here. most important meal of the day,” Noah says, looking up at you through long lashes as your arousal drips down his chin. cheeky. 

“okayyy…” Nick makes to leave, no doubt to get a start on setting up your propane stove for the mandatory bacon and eggs. food tastes better when you’re camping. you’re also hungrier. something about the fresh air. 

before he can, Noah grabs Nick’s wrist, unable to meet his gaze (no doubt brings to mind the moment they shared last night) as he slips his index and middle fingers into his mouth, making sure to get them nice and slick before guiding them between your folds. 

they’re thick. a drummer’s hands, calloused and rough, but gentle in a way that still remembers how to hold something delicately. hands that know rhythm, and labor, and fuck if they don’t fill you perfectly. 

the feeling of Nick’s fingers curling behind your clit as Noah sucks it into his mouth has you arching off your makeshift mattress, hips pushing into his face. Noah grips your ass in his palms, making sure you stay seated on his tongue as it flicks over your swollen clit. 

“fuck,” you grip Nick’s wrist, your eyes all but rolling back in your head. a second wave of pleasure overshadows the first, threatening to take you higher. “I’m gonna—”

Noah spreads you open with his thumbs, kissing the bud encouragingly before sucking it between his lips again as your legs shake and white hot pleasure courses through you, gushing between your thighs. too much. you’re pushing at him—clawing more like—your thighs hugging his head, pussy clenching around Nick’s fingers until Noah finally allows you reprieve. 

“you ever make a girl squirt before?” Noah smirks. 

now, Nick’s given his fair share of orgasms, but he can’t say he’s ever had someone drench his fingers the way you just did, so he shakes his head.

“I’ll have to teach you a trick or two.” Noah seems only all too happy to volunteer his services. “but lesson number one”—Noah unabashedly laps up your arousal with what can only be described as a debaucherous slurping sound as you tremble underneath him—“is not to waste a single goddamn drop she gives you.”

he then proceeds to take Nick’s middle finger into his mouth, his confidence seemingly bolstered as he locks eyes with him this time, before pushing Nick’s hand up toward his own mouth for a taste. 

Nick’s tongue darts out from between parched lips to lick at his fingers, tasting you. 

“the more stimulation, the better,” Noah says. “g-spot, clit....” Noah makes a vulgar gesture of pumping his fingers. “don’t switch up at the last minute, keep it constant. you push her over the edge, and you don’t stop. make her feel so good she has no choice but to let go. she won’t even be able to think about anything else, and you don’t pull away until she’s dragging you. I’m gonna test you later.”

“you hear that, Nick?” you tease. he’s perched on his knees, leaned one one hand, when your hand sneaks past the waistband of his boxers to cup his cock, your other doing the same to Noah. “class is in session.”

“what can I say? I don’t gatekeep.” Noah kisses underneath your jaw, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses all along your jawline while Nick cups your breast and mouths along your shoulder and the curve of your neck, both making soft sounds against your skin as you stroke them. “that doesn’t mean I’m gonna teach him that thing I do with my tongue that you like so much though. you’ll have to come to me for that one.”

“oh yeah?” you murmur. he’s panting now. they both are. ragged and hot and heavy as they paint their shuddering stomachs with thick, white ropes of cum. “good morning to me.”

you swipe two fingers through both their messes, offering them first to Noah, who laps at them with no hesitation, sucking your fingers into his mouth as their tastes intermingle on his tongue. Nick is more tentative, but he follows suit, and when your fingers withdraw from his tongue, they’re spit-slicked and clean of his and Noah’s cum.

“I’ll take that breakfast now,” you say, smiling.

Nick laughs softly, getting himself together before making his way out of the tent to cook. “on it.” he play salutes.

“enjoy,” he tells you when he hands you a plate a few minutes later, bacon and eggs and buttered toast, which you accept gratefully. “I’m gonna catch us some fish for lunch.” he shrugs on a flannel shirt, grabbing his fishing rod from the bed of the truck.

“it’s early.” 

“as good a time as any,” is his reply. “you’re welcome to join. thought it might be fun to take the boat out.” he nods toward the little rowboat you’d parked at the shore of your campsite. 

you’ve been on the water for less than an hour when Noah, with his feet propped on the cooler and a pair of sunglasses sliding down his nose, remarks, “god, this is boring.”

“that’s because you’re not doing anything,” Nick retorts and casts his fishing line into the water with a flick of his wrist. he’s already caught two fish in a relatively short amount of time. 

“I could be doing something,” Noah says. “but then I’d be fishing, and I don’t have the patience for that.”

“you could always paddle back.”

“tempting. where’d you stash your jerky? I know you have some.”

Nick rolls his eyes, affectionate in that begrudging way he is when it comes to most things involving Noah, and rummages through his bag. “here, you greedy bastard.”

Noah grins victoriously, asking through bites, “okay, serious question. what do you do if you catch, like, a monster fish?”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “define ‘monster.’ this is a lake, not the ocean.”

“no, I mean really big. like, the kind of fish you brag about forever.” he adds, “aside from the mandatory instagram post where you’re holding it up at arm’s length like it’s some giant trophy or something.” 

you laugh. “yeah, you know, ‘look how big my dick, I mean—fish—is.’”

Noah lets out a giggle, Nick just shoots you a less than amused look. 

“well… the biggest thing in here is probably an overgrown carp, so I’d say you’re dreaming, but I’d probably just cook that bad boy up and feed it to you,” he tells Noah, “since you’re like a freaking bottomless pit.”

“you’re telling me you wouldn’t mount it over the fireplace?” Noah suggests. “taxiderm that shit and immortalize it forever?”

“neither of you have a fireplace,” you point out. 

“well, obviously we get a house that does,” he says like it’s the clear solution. “you know. in the future.”

Nick freezes so fast at the mention of a future together that he locks up, and if he were a goat, he’d topple over, he’s so startled. only, he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because you break the silence with a loud explanation of “oh my god, what is that?” your eyes on the water. 

“what’s what?” Noah jerks upright to look, standing up, and the boat lurches sideways, water sloshing dangerously close to the edge. no doubt he thinks it’s that so-called ‘monster’ fish he’s conjured in his imagination.

“Noah,” Nick warns.

“okay, okay! I didn’t mean to!” Noah flails, trying to counterbalance his sudden movement, which only makes it worse.

“sit. down.”

“I think it’s an otter.” you squint at what you’d thought was a log at first glance, but that was before you’d caught the glint of sleek fur, water parting around the unmistakable shape of a small, furry creature drifting slowly, lazily, on its back closer to the shallows. not a single care in the world.

the boat rocks as Noah leans forward again. “an otter? holy shit, otters are cute as hell. Matt’s gonna be so jealous—”

“Noah—” you warn.

 “I’m fine! it’s sturdy!” he says, waving a hand.

but in proving his point, he ends up tipping the boat, and all of you, into murky, clammy lake water that’s actually no higher than your navel. 

you surface, sputtering, with your bucket hat gone.

“what the hell, Noah?”

“I barely moved!”

Nick is already gathering gear, kicking toward the overturned boat as he splashes furiously. “my rod—my bag—”

“it’s all there. look—look, that’s your stupid tackle box!”

“it’s floating away, you jackass!”

you’re half-laughing, half-shivering as you wade to where the boat now bobs upside-down, its belly to the sky. Noah reaches it at the same time you do, grabbing the side.

when you look again, the otter is gone, only faint ripples left in its wake. can’t say you blame him.

“okay,” Noah says, a little out of breath, “so, that was my bad.”

you blink water from your lashes, too stunned to reply.

he grins suddenly, wide and sheepish. “but hey—now it’s not boring.”

he looks so pitiful, you can’t even be mad at him. not when his hair is plastered to his forehead, shades gone, big brown puppy eyes weaponized to beg for forgiveness.

you shake your head with a sigh. “you’re unbelievable.”

“yet devastatingly handsome, even when I look like a drowned rat?” 

you snort. “you don’t even look like a drowned rat. that’s the problem.”

his grin only deepens. he’s incorrigible. “so, just devastatingly handsome, then?”

“you’re lucky I don’t drown you.”

“get in line,” Nick grumbles. “now help me flip the damn boat.”

“I’m serious, though. one day we’ll have a fireplace. just in case we do catch something worth mounting.” 

“there is no ‘we’. I’ll be lucky to catch anything with you scaring away everything within a ten-foot radius,” Nick says as you haul the overturned rowboat upright.

“please tell me our lunch made it,” you plead. 

“the fish are fine, which is more than I can say for us,” Nick says pointedly. “at least the cooler floats.”

Noah is unruffled, presenting his back to you for a piggyback ride to shore. 

Nick is already halfway to the shoreline, dragging the boat through the shallows at your campsite as you wrap your arms around Noah’s neck and your legs around his waist.

by the time the fish—two decent-sized rainbow trout—lie gutted and cleaned, ready to be cooked, it’s late morning and the sun is significantly higher in the sky. 

“should we be helping?” Noah asks from the hammock a few feet away, stretched out like a cat sunning itself. his shirt is wrung out and draped over a tree branch, leaving him shirtless and his many tattoos on display.

you shoot him a look. “you flipped us into a lake. I think you’ve helped enough for one day.”

“I carried you to shore,” he defends himself.

“and I’m still wet,” you say, hair and clothes dripping.

Noah’s gaze flicks down, slow and appreciative of this fact.

“you could always strip if it bothers you,” he teases. “nothing we haven’t seen before.”

Nick, stood over the fire, flushes deeply and avoids your eye.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you? perv.” you flick a little water in Noah’s direction.

choosing to ignore him, you cross the campsite to where Nick is, sliding your arms around his waist from behind as he stands watch over the fish.

“thank you for inviting us,” you mumble against his back, the shirt he’s changed into soft against your cheek, warm and smelling of cedar and sandalwood. 

he sets aside the spatula and turns around, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his chin on top of your head. “of course,” he says lowly. “I figured we could use the privacy to… talk.” he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, but his hands stay firm on your waist. “I know it can be chaotic with the three of us, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I mean it. I like this. I like us. and I want to see where it goes.”

you visibly soften, leaning into him again. “let’s enjoy our last night, yeah?”

when he pulls from your hug, it’s only to reach for his cap. it’s denim, the one with the embroidered trout and the words ‘fish around find trout’ stitched across the front that you’d found in a little roadside gift shop and given him for his birthday two years ago because it made you laugh and because it instantly made you think of your fish boy. he places it gently on your head, then tugs it teasingly down over your eyes by the brim.

“you still wear this?” you ask, lifting it just enough to peek at him from beneath it.

“it’s my lucky fishing hat.” he grins, and you have to admit it’s funny how on the nose it is with the dinner he’d caught sizzling on the grill in front of you. “here. try.” he picks up his fork and cuts a piece of fish, then lifts it to your lips, feeding it to you.

you take the bite obligingly, chewing slow. “oh, shit, that’s good.”

it flakes perfectly on your tongue, tender and buttery, with just the right hint of smoke. the fishy taste, which usually puts you off, is barely there. just enough to remind you it came fresh from the lake this morning. and the lemon? too die for.

Nick smiles wider, pleased with himself. “told you I knew what I was doing.”

“okay, chef,” you say, nudging him. “more please.”

“hey, I haven’t had any yet.” Noah materializes in front of you, opening his mouth expectantly waiting for Nick to feed it to him. 

yeah… you could see a life with them. 

you could picture coming home to them. 

sure, maybe it’s a little early to be thinking about it, given nothing’s strictly official, but every moment you spend with them only serves to make everything click even further into place. something in your gut tells you they’re your people. 

you wouldn’t say you didn’t believe in soulmates. more like the near-impossible odds of finding yours in a world that feels so vast.

and somehow, against all odds, you have two.

you may have had a less-than-innocent idea in mind about how exactly you’d be making the most of your last night, and it started with waking up the unsuspecting boy next to you. 

you slide your hands along his shoulders, lean in until your lips brush the shell of his ear, and smile as you feel him shiver. “what do you think about giving Noah a show this time?” you ask Nick, already straddling his lap as he slow blinks at you sweetly, no doubt thrilled to find himself in this position.

Nick’s hands immediately tighten on your hips, his sleepy smirk sharpening into something far more wicked as he registers what you’re suggesting. he glances over at Noah—whose mouth is open in soft exhales as he snoozes beside you, unwittingly—before dragging his gaze back to you with a slow, dangerous grin.

“yeah?”

his fingers dig in more possessively as he leans up to capture your lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss, just deep enough that the wet sound might just reach Noah’s ears. 

he still tastes of mint toothpaste. 

“then we’d better make sure he wakes up for the best part,” he murmurs against your mouth.

a deliberate moan slips from his throat as he palms the curve of your ass, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp, every sound obscenely loud in the quiet of the tent. 

his hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head as his mouth latches onto your throat, sucking a mark right where Noah will definitely see it. his other hand teases under the hem of the pajama shorts you’re in, fingertips skimming dangerously close to where you so desperately want them before the pad of his finger brushes over the crotch of your panties and feels the dampness concentrated between your thighs.

“shit.” with a thigh-clenchingly attractive huff, he rolls you over, effectively topping you as your hands come up to brace against his chest and he hitches a leg over his waist. he grinds his bulge between your folds as you savor how solid he feels underneath your palms, his breaths becoming labored with the weight of his need. “you been lying all innocent between us while you got wet thinking about this?” 

all his blood seems to be flowing straight to his dick, and it’s calling the shots here. it dictates how he rocks his hips and tells him when he rubs up against your clit perfectly. it feeds off knowing you’re every bit as desperate to have him inside you as he is to be inside you, and fuck if dry humping has ever felt this good. every tease of contact, of friction, only serves to make you burn hotter. “was this always your plan? pretend to be asleep and then crawl into my lap and seduce me? get me to fuck you for Noah to watch?” his lips trail hotly across your neck. “wake him up to the sight of me balls deep inside you?” he nips where you’re sensitive, right behind your ear, and yeah, if he isn’t giving it to you hard and fast within the next five minutes, you’re going to have a problem. 

“why? does it turn you on?” you ask coyly, despite knowing the answer. “yeah it does.” your hand brushes over the evidence, his growing erection pressing into your palm. 

you enjoy this back and forth, this banter. you already know he’s going to challenge you, and the fun it will be bringing him to heel. he’ll make you work for it, which will only make his submission all the sweeter. 

maybe part of it is only just realizing what he’s gotten himself into, but one thing is for certain: he does love a tug of war. 

“look at you.” you admire the outline of his cock in his boxers, reaching in to find him already half hard and perfectly pink. he’s thicker than Noah, if shorter, has a bit of a curve to him that you know will hit all the right places. “fucking perfect.” he jerks in your hand at the compliment. 

“don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. you want to fuck me. I want that too,” you tell him. “I’m as much yours as I am Noah’s, you know that, right? that’s what this whole trip was about. lucky me getting to dom the both of you. us playing together.”

you stroke him in your palm before taking him in your mouth, enjoying the way he hardens on your tongue before you tease him against your folds.  

when he finally sinks inside you, it’s with a choked gasp. it’s a stretch, even with how wet you are, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the fullness of it all. 

“jesus fucking christ.” Nick moans into your shoulder, nipping the skin of your collarbone. “there you fucking go,” he praises as he bottoms out. “taking me so well, holy shit.”

“don’t come until I tell you,” you warn, and he groans as if he’s just remembered what the dynamic here is going to be. 

“you’re not making it easy for me.” 

“I never said I would,” comes your reply. after all, you like to play too. 

you thought Noah was affectionate? with Nick, it’s like he has ADHD, always needing his mouth or his hands to be occupied. restless, never settling—kissing you, wandering your body with his hands, his tongue sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. physical contact is his primary language, and he just learned how to talk.

with every thrust, your ass backs into Noah, who grumbles sleepily and ruts against you from behind as if succumbing to a wet dream. he pants softly against the shell of your ear, eyes fluttering open and blinking away sleep as they widen at the sight before him. 

“rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Nick taunts. “fuck, I’m so close,” he pants, “she’s gripping me like a vise. fuck, I could just—” he grunts, and then he’s coming before you can chastise him, pulling out only in time to paint Noah’s stomach. 

sly fucker thinks maybe he can get away with it, but you’re about to show him otherwise. 

“don’t let me interrupt,” Noah remarks dryly.

“oops.” Nick grins sheepishly, as unrepentant as they come. “don’t worry, I’m good for another round. I’ve got stamina,” you practically hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. “they don’t call me ‘animal’ for nothing.”

“you talk big for someone who just came without permission.” you shake your head, trying to keep your smile at bay. “something told me you were going to be a brat. we’ll work on it.”

“don’t act like you don’t love it. you live for this shit. so…” he waggles his eyebrows. “how’re you gonna punish me?” 

you narrow your eyes. “you don’t think I can make you regret it. mhm, you should ask Noah what he thinks of my punishments. he can be a bit of a brat, too, from time to time,” you say. “seeing as you came without my permission, I think a ruined orgasm is only fair. payment, of course, for such willful disobedience.

“what do you think, Noah?” your fingers absentmindedly trace a heart in the sticky puddle of Nick’s cum pooling on Noah’s navel. “baby’s first ruined orgasm?”

he mumbles incoherently against you. 

“yeah, he’s going to hate it, but he’s also going to take it so well for me because he wants to make me proud, like someone else I know. doesn’t he?”

Nick nods, and Noah’s cock springs out to greet you as you fumble with his sweats, tugging them low enough to reveal the v of his hip bones. 

“sweet dreams?” your fingers trail across Noah’s stomach, and he trembles, ever sensitive to your touch as you trail yet lower, lapping with your tongue along his inner thigh as his cock pulses. you lick a long line up his stomach, eyes on him the whole time, and also along his cock, trailing from the base to his head, his cock twitching underneath you before you suck his tip into your mouth.

you like to circle the tip with your tongue like it’s a clit, lavish it with attention until his hips can do nothing but jerk into your mouth in search of either escape or more friction, the breathless gasps that escape him only fueling you. 

he has a pretty voice for more than just singing. 

“I think Nick’s going to take some of the heat off you. he’s gonna be my little mischief maker, and you’re going to be my good boy. hm?” you purposely draw out the hum, and he bucks as the vibration goes right through him. 

“go ahead and come for me, baby,” you coax. 

he does so with a strangled moan, hand flexing where you’ve let him anchor it in your hair, and you lick your lips after you’ve swallowed him down, sticking your tongue back out to show him how artfully you’ve made his cum disappear. his eyes practically roll back at the sight while you… you live to tease him. 

“don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, baby boy.” you turn your attention back to Nick as you crawl to his lap. 

a soft sound resonates in his throat as you straddle him once more, and he watches appreciatively as inch by inch of his cock disappears inside you. 

“I knew you’d like a girl on top,” you muse. he looks like a kid in a candy shop with you riding him like this, unable to figure out where to ultimately focus his attention. 

“lets me do this,” he maintains eye contact while sucking your tit into his mouth, his hands cupping your ass. 

“you know, I would’ve bet money that cowgirl was your favorite position.”

Nick lets out a quiet, rasping laugh against your neck, his fingers gripping the back of your neck as he drags you into another searing kiss. “which one?” he teases against your lips. “cause you know, sweetheart,” he murmurs when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, “I’ve got plenty of favorites.” 

you don’t push him away when his hands slide down to grip your hips, letting him have this indulgence as he guides you into a slow, deliberate grind against him, his eyes locked onto yours with devilish amusement. 

“but right now?” he thrusts sharply upward as if to emphasize his point. “this one’s winning by a fucking landslide.”

his hand slips between you, fingers teasing where you’re already wet for him as your rhythm falters and he picks up the slack. 

he wasn’t kidding, already gearing up for another orgasm. sweat beads at his brow and lust-blown eyes look at you from atop ruddy, pink cheeks. 

“oh no you don’t.” you manage to snap yourself out of his near-hypnotic sex glow to lean in and take his earlobe between your teeth. “I could’ve made you watch instead.” you trail a teasing finger down his chest as beneath it his muscles scrunch. “lucky for you, I wasn’t finished with you or your cock.” you circle your hips in one last teasing arc worthy of stealing his breath. 

now, however…

you ease yourself up, his cock slips from inside you, and you take him in hand, stroking once from base to tip before rubbing his cock head with your open palm. his stomach tenses, a soft whine of protest leaving his lips almost involuntarily at experiencing an orgasm that never fully peaks, his cum spurting all over your hand regardless of never reaching the real crest of satisfaction. 

“what do you think?” you play at conferring with him. “is that enough to learn your lesson?” you look down to where he’s sprawled on his back across the rumpled sleeping bags, hair mussed, out of breath, with the glow of moonlight painting silver lines across his bare shoulders.

he blinks up at you, lips parted, and you can see a faint bruise beginning to bloom just beneath his collarbone. you don’t remember leaving it, but the sight sparks something warm and possessive low in your belly.

god, you could fucking eat him alive.

“I don’t know,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “you might have to teach me again,” he challenges. 

you exhale a soft huff of disbelief as you sit back on your heels, shaking your head. 

“trouble,” you murmur, cupping his jaw. “you’re going to be trouble.” 

he only grins wider. “good thing you like trouble.” he turns his head just enough to press a kiss to the center of your palm. 

your stomach does somersaults. and that was even before he slipped his hand back between your legs and drawled in a voice dripping with sex, “I believe I owe you an orgasm.”

your whole body breaks out in goosebumps, terribly, terribly affected by that hint of Southern lilt. “well, who am I to say no?”

beside you, Noah’s cock has stirred back to life. 

you wiggle your hips when he positions himself over you, the hand with his mandala over your stomach, keeping you close as his cock slots between your ass cheeks. “sweet boy. guess we should take care of that, huh, Noah? or else it might interfere with your beauty sleep.”

he nuzzles against your hair, mumbling his agreement.

“we’re going to have fun together, aren’t we?” you practically purr.

You couldn’t see him in the main room as you entered, cautiously stepping further into his apartment as you closed the door behind you.

“Noah?” You popped your head into the kitchen, he wasn’t there either.

“One second!” The shout came from his bedroom and moments later he appeared in the doorway, sweatpants sitting low on his hips, no t-shirt on. You tried your best not to stare, clearing your throat as you felt the blush start to form on your face.

“Sorry, I-I thought you said to come whenever.” You looked down at your shoes, not trusting yourself to look up at him. You tried to fight the ideas already formulating in your brain, but to no avail. You peered up at him through your lashes, he looked smug.

“Oh, I did. Don’t worry, I just spilt a drink on myself. Bad timing, but there’s a beer in the kitchen for you, if you want it. I’ll be back out in a second.” He lingered in the doorway for just a couple seconds before stepping back into his room. You pushed a hand back through your hair, trying to shake free the thoughts.

Instead of waiting for him to reappear, you followed his advice, heading into the kitchen to grab yourself a beer. As you stepped back into the living room, he was re-entering from his bedroom, your eyes immediately zoning in on the skin of his stomach as he pulled a t-shirt over his head.

You mentally reprimanded yourself, there was no way you were going to be able to rid yourself of those thoughts if the night carried on like that. You managed to avert your eyes just before his face appeared through the top of the t-shirt.

“I was thinking, food, a couple drinks? Maybe try and watch a movie? Hopefully we don’t fall asleep.” He smiled as he spoke, walking further into the room to grab his own beer from where he'd left it. You simply nodded your head as you listened to him, taking a sip of your beer to give yourself a second to compose yourself, your brain still attempting to formulate a million scenarios.

“Sure. Sounds good to me. Want to order pizza?” He flashed you a grin, hopping down onto the couch, patting his hand on the seat next to him for you to join.

“Come here, let's see what looks good.”

❤️

With the pizza acquired, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, pressing start on the movie you'd agreed on. You were sitting a little further apart than you had been while ordering food and the distance was helping you keep somewhat focused on the movie. Though, it didn't take long for your eyes to start flicking between the screen and the person next to you every few minutes. Noah was doing almost exactly the same, the two of you ever so slightly out of sync, his eyes landing on you as you tried to feign interest in the film and vice versa. This back and forth carried on for almost half the film until you looked across at him just as he turned to glance at you.

Your cheeks flushed red at having been caught, quickly turning away from him, trying to act as if you hadn't been looking at all. You took a bite of your pizza, chewing the piece as you tried to force yourself to watch the movie. You didn't have a clue what was happening, you'd completely lost the flow of the storyline. You huffed out a breath and gave in, letting your eyes rest back on him. He was watching the film.

You let out another small huff, a little louder this time, placing your half eaten slice of pizza back in the box, grabbing ahold of your beer.

“You okay?” You turned towards the voice, taking a large swig of beer. He was looking at you again, his voice soft. He looked concerned.

“Yeah, I'm good.” You placed the beer back down, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. You offered him a smile, trying to reassure him that you really were fine. Certainly, you didn't want to reveal to him, that seeing him topless had fried your brain so badly it was only thing you could see every time you closed your eyes. No, you definitely didn't want to tell him that.

“You seem distracted.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Really. I guess I'm just not really following the plot very well.” You waved a hand towards the TV as you spoke, a soft smirk gracing Noah's mouth before he leant himself forwards. He rested his elbow on top of his knee, propping his chin up on his fist as he eyed you.

“Well, that might be because you aren't paying a lot of attention.” You almost gasped at the suggestion, cheeks warming as you realised you'd been caught out. He knew you'd been staring.

“W-What? I am!”

“Oh yeah? Then what's the movie about, pretty girl?” Your eyes flicked back to the screen, looking for some sort of clue as to the plot. Something you could say to answer his question. Your mouth fell open, cheeks red as you started to stutter over your words in a flurry.

His fingers came to rest under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. He had that smug look on his face again.

“Don't worry. I'm not following the plot very well either.”

“Yeah?” The word left your lips in almost a whisper as your eyes met his, your faces much closer than they had been all night. Those thoughts were trying to infiltrate your mind again.

“Yeah. I keep getting distracted.” You let out a shaky breath at his admission, wondering briefly if he'd only known you were looking because he too had been doing the same.

“What- What by?”

“You.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His fingers lightly grazed the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You were almost jelly beneath his hands by this point, waiting patiently for him to make his next move.

“Can I?” His fingers were caressing your jaw. His eyes, flicking between yours and your mouth.

“Can you…?” You could guess what he was asking for and you didn’t want to give yourself a chance to second guess yourself. You tilted your own head back slightly, lifting your chin up to bring your lips closer to his. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something and then stopped, opting to close the distance between you both, your lips meeting his.

Your lips moved against his in a steady rhythm, fingers reaching out to curl into his locks as his hand caressed your jaw. You pulled away with a giggle, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. His face mirrored yours, big smiles on both your faces.