Mrs/Mr Floyd-Reynolds-Kent-Grace ♥️

You and Bob were both called for the Uranium Mission which meant it was time for your favorite game, how long does it take for them to realize you're married? It started as a joke at your first command. You two had been dating since high school and got married at 21, it was just at the courthouse but it was done so you two weren't separated in the Navy. Even if you were both WSOs and it forced the detailers to have to find open slots for both of you at the same places.

This time, it was your favorite of them. You and Bob couldn't lie and say you didn't know each other, especially since you both came from Lemoore, but you two also didn't say you were married; which was made easier since neither of you wore your rings to work so they didn't get hurt or lost. Normally the others would start making jokes about getting you two mixed up or something else, but not this group.

It was pretty much pushed to the side until you were all asked to stay in Miramar after the mission. That's when the jokes started, or picked up. Jake had made another pass at you, saying he could be a good husband or whatever. "I quite like my last name, thanks though," you responded, sending Bob a sly wink from across the room.

You were all hanging out in the rec room, everyone still staying in barracks while you tried to find places to live. "Are you saying you wouldn't change your last name to your husband's?" Javy was just genuinely curious when he asked.

"I didn't say that," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "I just like my last name."

"Just marry Bob at that point then," Natasha teased, a good natured smile on her face.

You rolled your eyes again before looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes and a scrunched nose. "If my choices are Hangman or Bob, I'd chose Bob in a heartbeat," you told her before the focus shifted to Mickey tripping over his own feet and falling to the floor.

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When you and Bob turned in your paperwork for being married and living together, Pete and Beau promised to keep it a secret so you two could keep up your little game. Which led to where you were currently.

The team decided to go back to the beach, a team bonding day as they justified it to Pete to get him to join. You were laid out on your towel, your eyes closed since you took your sunglasses off to avoid the tan lines. "What is your dream man actually like?" Jake asked and you almost groaned at the annoyance.

"Why do you care?" you questioned, not moving.

Jake shrugged, not that you could see it. "Just curious," he responded.

"Not you."

"Come on," Jake was smiling when you opened your eyes to look at him. "I actually mean it."

You sighed and closed your eyes again. "Kind," you said first. "The type of kind where he'll always help another but won't be a push over. Smart, I want to be able to play logic games or word games and actually be challenged. Bonus points if he lets me win occasionally because he loves to see the smile I have when I win. He has to be understanding, especially because of the job we have," you had a small smile on your face as you spoke, just explaining what you love about Bob.

"What about physically?"

You rolled your eyes even though they were still closed. "I don't care at the end of the day," you told him. "But I guess taller than me and blue eyes wouldn't hurt," you told him, knowing that this could end your little game.

"Alright," he nodded. "I'll leave you be," he added and you nodded with pursed lips.

You were alone for maybe a few minutes before Bob sat down next to you, you knew it was Bob because you could smell the last wisps of his cologne clinging to him. "What did Hangman want?" Bob asked.

"Asking about my dream man," you replied.

"What'd you tell him?"

"Kind, smart, understanding," you labeled off the three you said. "Also told him that blue eyes wouldn't hurt either."

"Getting bold here, aren't you?" Bob teased and you laughed, opening your eyes to look at your husband.

"Something tells me they're going to try setting us up," you winked, Bob laughing with you.

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You were peacefully sitting in the ready room with Javy when Jake walked in. "Why are you single, Mystic?" Jake asked, sitting down across from you.

"Why do you care, Hangman?" you questioned, looking towards your front seater to see if he knew what was going on.

Javy gave away nothing but something told you that he knew what Jake was doing. "Just asking," he shrugged.

"Fine, I just haven't found someone I've liked enough to date," you answered.

"Ever?"

"No," you laughed, shaking your head. "Just in a while."

"And by a while you mean…?" Jake trailed off, waiting for you to answer.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, wondering where this was going. "High school, freshman year to be exact," you revealed.

The way both Jake and Javy's eyebrows shot up was amusing to you, so much so that you were laughing. "You haven't dated anyone since high school?" Jake asked.

You had two options, lie and keep the game alive or finally tell them you're married. "What's wrong with that?" you questioned, the game always winning in these small moments.

Jake leaned forward with furrowed brows as the others walked in. "It's just shocking, you're hot and you haven't had a boyfriend since high school?" The others all made various noises of shock as you laughed a little.

"If it makes you feel better, he was my boyfriend until we were 21," you added, trying not to make eye contact with Bob and ruin the whole thing by laughing.

"What happened?" Natasha cut into the conversation, sitting down next to you.

You were having fun and trying not to laugh at the way you were telling them without telling them. "We both decided we'd be better off not dating," you shrugged, not technically a lie. Bob and you both decided that you'd be better off married than dating.

"So you haven't dated someone since you were 21, not high school," Jake said.

"That's not what I said. I said I haven't met someone I want to date since high school, there's a difference," you pointed out right before Pete walked in, telling everyone what was the plan for the day.

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You were walking away with Natasha as the team hung out at the beach again, your laughter trailing behind you. Bob was watching you leave, a small smile on his face. "Ok, what's up with you and Mystic?" Mickey asked, his eyes cutting from you to Bob.

Bob looked at Mickey, confusion on his face. "What?" Bob questioned, brows furrowed a little.

"You look at her like she hung the moon for you and your just waiting for the stars next," Mickey sat down on the towel next to Bob. "So do you like her or…?"

Bob would be the first to admit he's not as good as you are at lying off the cuff, but he likes to think he's good at it. But when in doubt, Bob has found playing dumb works just as well. "Of course I like her, she's my best friend."

"First of all, ouch," Mickey dramatically put his hands over his heart. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. But that's not what I meant."

"Oh," Bob's cheeks went pink and he knew you'd tease him for it if you were with him. "I mean, she's great and all."

Mickey sighed, looking over to where you were still walking with Natasha. Though you were headed back and Mickey knew the time Natasha said she could give him was coming to a close. "Are you in love with Mystic?" Mickey straight up asked.

Bob blinked a few time. "Yes," he couldn't lie about that. He wouldn't lie about that, not now or ever.

Natasha had somehow convinced you to detour towards the others to tease Jake about losing the bean bag toss, giving Mickey more time to talk with Bob. "Then why not ask her out?"

This, Bob didn't need to lie about. "She'd probably laugh," he said. And he was right, if he asked you out you'd laugh and say you're already married, but you'd love to go out with him. That last part didn't need to be told to Mickey though.

"I'm sure she wouldn't," Mickey tried to be supportive.

"No, trust me," Bob shook his head, looking towards where you were laughing with Natasha over Jake missing again. For a man good at darts, he sucks at bean bag toss. "She'd laugh, but I don't think I'd mind as long as I got to hear it."

Mickey rolled his eyes and muttered something about Bob being hopelessly in love with you before standing up. You caught Mickey walking over out of the corner of your eye and Bob watched as Mickey told you something that had you walking over. "I was told you wanted to talk to me," you mused.

Bob shook his head at you softly, his soft smile on his face. "I think he's just trying tell the others about our conversation."

You smiled at him, giving him a wink. "As long as it wasn't bad," you muttered.

"It wasn't," Bob promised before you had an idea.

"Let's go get some ice cream, I don't know about you but I'm melting," you told him.

"Ok," Bob was confused but didn't question you.

"We're going to get ice cream!" you called over to your friends. "We'll be back!" you added before tugging Bob along with you towards the little ice cream shop along the beach.

Instead of going into the shop, the door having been facing away from the beach, you tugged Bob along to the other side where you'd be hidden from your friends. "What are you doing?" Bob asked, following as you tugged him closer to you.

"I want to kiss my husband, is that a crime now?" you teased, looking up at him.

"I suppose not," Bob mumbled, leaning down to kiss you.

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"Are you coming to the bar tonight?" Bradley threw his arm around your shoulders as you started walking to the parking lot. Bob was already out there, you had to stay back and talk to Pete about something that went wrong during the BFM training you ran through today. It wasn't your fault, it was just a faulty weapons system, but they needed your eye witness account for the techs that were coming in.

"Yeah, why?" you asked, waving at one of the mechanics as she walked past.

Bradley smiled down at you. "Hangman wants to know, I think he's trying to set you and Bob up," he told you.

You huffed a laugh but there was a genuine smile on your face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I don't think he'd noticed the rings on both of your dog tags," Bradley mused and you smacked his stomach.

"Hey, you promised that you'd keep that secret," you told him, pointing at him.

Bradley laughed while he nodded, mumbling that he was keeping the secret. Bradley had been on a boat with you and Bob once and promised when you saw him the first night to keep what he knew to himself. "I'm just saying, this is the first time someone has tried to set you two up. And I think something is going to happen tonight at the bar," he defended.

"I figured, and Bob and I have been laughing about the fact that they're setting us up."

"How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Until it'll be funnier to tell them than to keep it a secret. Though we'll probably end it tonight anyway," you mused as you reached Bob's truck.

"Well, I'll see you two later," Bradley nodded before leaving you with Bob.

"What was he talking about?" Bob asked, opening the passenger door for you.

"Jake trying to set us up," you told Bob, letting him get into the car before you started talking again. "Bradley thinks something is going to happen at the bar tonight," you added.

Bob nodded slowly. "He's probably right, I was asked if I was in love with you by Fanboy the other day," Bob told you.

"What'd you say?" you asked, even though you knew the answer already.

"Yes, obviously," Bob said like there was no other option. "But Payback also asked if I had a type today."

"Wow, they're all in on it," you laughed softly, taking Bob's right hand in yours.

"At least even they know we're perfect for each other."

You huffed a laugh and kissed the back of Bob's hand. "You're cheesy, you know that?"

"Only for you, sweetheart," Bob replied, kissing the back of your hand in return.

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The Hard Deck was busy like normal and you stuck close to Bob as you two walked towards the back. Both of you had your rings tucked Bob's pocket, waiting for the moment where you could make it the best reveal you could think of. "There you two are!" Jake announced when he saw you two. "We were staring to think you weren't coming."

"And miss seeing Bradley beat your ass in pool? Not a chance," you shot back, a smile on your face as you sat down on one of the taller chairs. Bob whispered to you that he was going to go get drinks.

"You've got your money on Rooster?"

"There's a bet?" you asked, looking towards the others.

Natasha handed you the envelope with a smile. "20 dollar buy in, pick your winner," she told you.

"Bradley, duh," you rolled your eyes, dropping 40 in there.

"Only one to pick him, beware," Mickey told you.

"I'm not afraid to lose 40 dollars," you challenged. "Though Bradley won't let me lose it, will you?"

"I've got your back, Mystic," Bradley winked as Bob came back with drinks for both of you, neither alcoholic.

You and Bob always sat together while the others did what they wanted at the bar, really only going because you two liked the team bonding time. Tonight though, you were more interested in the pool game than the little conversations you and Bob would normally have. "We lose 40 dollars if Bradley loses, by the way," you whispered to Bob a few minutes into the game.

Bob looked towards you with an eyebrow raised. "The 40 dollars I won from Payback?" Bob asked.

"The very same," you smiled at him and he shook his head with a smile. "I have faith in him though, so we'll have more."

"You always have faith in him," he pointed out.

"When has he failed us?"

"Fair," Bob shrugged, looking back towards the table. You know you should have too, but Bob was so pretty you just wanted to stare at him a little longer.

"So, Mystic," Jake's voice made you look away from your husband with pinched brows.

"What do you want, Hangman?" you asked.

"I was wondering how you feel about blind dates," he was leaning against the pool table while Bradley lined up his shot.

"Not happening," you muttered, taking a sip of your drink.

"Oh come on, I know a guy who is exactly your type," he smirked, looking at Bob for a moment.

You rolled your eyes before looking towards Bradley for a second to see him laughing a little. "Still not happening."

"What if I can promise he's a gentleman?"

"Stop," you told him, real annoyance bleeding into your tone.

"But what if-"

"Drop it, Hangman," Bob cut into the conversation, his voice taking on an icy tone none of them had heard from him before.

There was a charged silence, one where you could tell Jake was defending on whether or not to keep going. But Jake cleared his throat and nodded. "Alright then," he muttered, focusing back on the game.

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The game ended and you were almost 200 dollars richer, a satisfied smile on your face as you got the envelope full of money. You handed it to Bob so he could put it in his pocket to hold, which apparently was crazy for you to do. "Just giving Bob your winnings?" Jake asked, an eyebrow raised.

You turned your head slowly, lips in a straight line and face annoying neutral for Jake. "We live together and I have no real pockets," you deadpanned.

Jake nodded, like he forgot until you reminded him. "You know, you and Bob act like a married couple," Jake practically sing-songed.

"Oh really?" you asked, nodding slowly like you didn't believe him.

Jake smirked, like he hit the jackpot. "Yeah, you do," he doubled down before continuing talking. "I really do think you should go on that blind date I want to plan. I think you'd like the guy."

"And why's that?"

"He's kind, smart, and understanding," Jake told you. "You know, the three main wants you have," he added.

"No bonus point?"

"I wouldn't know, hold on," Jake cleared his throat before turning to look at Bob and you had to look at the roof to stop yourself from laughing. "Would you let Mystic win at word games occasionally because you love her smile?"

"I already do, why do you think it's part of her description?" Bob muttered.

Jake blinked as you looked back towards your friends and pulled your drink to your lips to hide your smile. "What?" Jake dumbly asked.

"What did Natasha say the first time you asked about my last name? I might as well marry Bob?" You were pulling the magnetic wallet off the back of your phone. You had decidedly chosen to carry your old driver's license for this exact moment of the night.

Jake was still staring at you two like his brain wasn't working when you handed him your old ID. Jake read your name aloud, first name and maidan last name. "You're not a Floyd?"

"Try again," you handed him your new license, the one with your name now.

Jake was staring between the two while Bob slipped your engagement ring and matching wedding band onto your finger before slipping his own wedding band on. "No way," he muttered. "You're fucking with us."

Your shrugged, taking your IDs back to put into your wallet once again. "Ask Bradley, he's known since we were on a boat together a few years ago," you challenged.

Jake looked towards Bradley, who nodded in confirmation before Jake looked back at you. "This whole time…" Jake trailed off. "Why keep it a secret?"

"It's fun," you said first. "But also because we've been married for years now, and yet most don't believe that we are even if we straight up tell them. Why not let people think what they want and have some fun until it's more fun to reveal it?"

"But you said you hadn't dated since 21," Mickey cut in.

"I said I haven't found someone I want to date since freshman year of high school, when Bob and I got together. You all assumed that I broke it off with him when I said we decided we'd be better off not dating. Because we got married," you explained.

"You fucking word played us?" Javy asked, laughter threatening to take his voice over.

"Words have meaning. I never once said my maidan name was Floyd nor had we ever once we weren't together or married. We just avoided questions and let you come to your own conclusions," you finished your drink after you spoke.

"Who's idea was it to do this little game," Natasha asked you.

"Mine," Bob admitted, a smile on his face when you stepped into his space.

"What's the shortest time you two have played this little game?" Mickey asked.

"Two seconds," you told them. "There was a pilot called Twit who seriously hit on me and Bob got jealous."

Bob gave your hip a small squeeze and you gave him a smile over your shoulder before leaning into his side. "Didn't think you'd be the jealous type Bob," Jake finally got his wits back.

You laughed as Bob rolled his eyes a little. "Just wait until we have to go to a gala, I don't think I've ever not been by his side," you smiled. "Not that I've ever complained," you added.

"Why keep your tags hidden?" Javy questioned.

"We don't per se," you told him. "We normally have them on our dog tags so they don't get hurt during work. Plus there was once Bob had a few layers of his skin peeled off because of his ring getting stuck at work," you explained.

Everyone winced at the thought while you ran your finger over Bob's ring finger, right where he got hurt. You always did when you thought about that moment, you were so worried for him when it happened. "Why not get those rubber ones then?" Natasha asked.

You paused for a moment before looking at her fully. "Yeah, never thought about that," you muttered, already planning to go find some for Bob and you.

"Wait, did you two know we were trying to set you two up?" Jake clarified.

"Mhm, we figured it out when you started to ask us questions about our types. Plus, we had an inside informant," you tilted your head towards Bradley.

"Perks of knowing they're married already," Bradley mused.

"You know, this has been fun," you told them. "But I'm ready to go home with my husband." Oh how you loved to be able to say that. "We'll see you all Monday," you waved and walked away with Bob.

"That could have gone worse," Bob told you as you both made your way to the door.

"Yeah? How?" You looked at Bob, trusting him to lead you to the door safely.

"Could have announced it like you did on that boat," he muttered into your ear.

You felt the heat crawl up the back of your neck as you remembered how you got maybe a little too loud one night when you were supposed to be in your bunk asleep. "Shut it," you hissed playfully.

"I promise you, baby, you're not going to want me to be quiet tonight," he promised, pressing a lingering kiss right behind your ear as you both stepped out of The Hard Deck. You were in for a long night, not that you'll complain.

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He thought the only mark or remembrance of your presence at the hotel would be your name inscribed in messy handwriting on the ledger kept in the back office of that raggedy hotel. Just another two names added to a list that would soon be forgotten and stored away once it got too filled. Miles never expected you to be any more than that. But he should’ve known, from the first time you met, that you and Ben would forever change his life.

You seemed like a nice couple. Listening to Miles give his whole speech about the great hotel and all its amenities, kindly asking him questions about room service and if the lobby was free to access. It wasn’t until you wrote your names down that Miles had realized he actually did know you. Well, your husband at least.

“O-oh, you’re Ben Mears? The author?”

Ben cocked a brow, surprised, “You know my books?”

Miles nodded, “Y-yeah, uhm I really liked your last one. Didn’t really think all those reviews about it were too fair.”

Shyly keeping his eyes glued to the wood counter, Miles missed the amused look of curiosity you and Ben shared, Ben’s raised brow or the playful wink you threw at your husband before he looked back up at you, none the wiser.

Ben chuckled, “Well, thank you Miles. You think you can call my publisher and let him know that?”

You lightly slapped his shoulder; Ben acted like he’d been wounded in combat. Miles smiled at you two. He didn’t usually get to see this type of relationship with his customers. Maybe back in the hotel's hay day when the El Royale was known as the place to be, but since the loss of the gambling license, most “couples” that crossed his paths were more correctly described as clients and their entertainment for the night. You two were a breath of fresh air from that.

Miles handed you the key to your room, ignoring the static he felt as your fingers brushed against his, “What brings you to the El Royale?”

Ben hummed, looking a little pained as he uttered the word, “Inspiration.”

Miles’s brows furrowed, eyes squinting as he tilted his head to the side, “Come again?”

Ben sighed, exhausted already at the mere memory of his publisher admonishing him for his last poorly reviewed book, “Well, my publisher has been up my ass about getting a new book out before the end of the year, and uh…”

You cut in, leaning against Ben's arm, “Let’s just say, staying in New York hasn’t been all that… inspiring.”

Miles nearly snorted at your comment. The idea of New York, the state of self-discovery and endless possibilities being so uninspiring that you and Ben had to come here, to this sad, old excuse for a hotel in the middle of the Nevada and California mountains, was comical. 

And just like that, you two were off. Miles sighed in relief the moment you two disappeared into your room. He waited for the call that never came, the call from management to record the comings and dealings of the famed author staying with them for the foreseeable future, but when it never came, Miles actually felt a tad disappointed. Not that he wanted to blackmail you. Christ no, never. You were both so nice to him. He hated doing that to any guest, especially those as kind as you both, but it would’ve given him an excuse to sneak into those back rooms and take a peek. Just out of… curiosity. Yeah, that’s right. Curiosity. That was all. Nothing more.

Miles knew he shouldn’t have. He should have turned back and gone back to his room. But he couldn’t help the curiosity of it. Were you two the type to throw your bags wherever they landed and flop into bed to sleep off the exhaustion of your journey or did you get straight to… business after a long trip? Guess he’d find out soon enough.

The hallway illuminated with light as the two-way mirrors showed the inside of the various empty hotel rooms, all lonely in this great palace, just like Miles felt. Finally, he made it to your room.

The hallways were deathly quiet as he watched you two unpack. You said something that made the author chuckle and throw a shirt across the room toward you. You grinned and threw a pillow from the bed at your husband, who quickly dodged it. In a flash you were being led to the bathroom, presumably to share a shower with your husband. And just like that Miles was alone again.

It was quite a wholesome sight compared to the next time he went back to see you. He knew he shouldn’t have violated your privacy again; he just couldn’t help himself. Yesterday, you had been his only form of genuine human interaction that he’d had in months. Maybe it had been a small, fleeting moment for you, but to him it was everything.

The sun had barely risen when Miles started his rounds around the hotel. He started preparing the coffee for when you two’d inevitably come down for your morning cup of joe when he felt the pull to check those back rooms. He promised himself he’d just take a peek then march back into the lobby and stay there for further notice.

The sight before Miles boosted him with enough adrenaline for him to forgo caffeine for the rest of the day.

Your breasts bounced as you rode your husband, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as Ben had his hands on your hips, not to guide, but support you. The author looked at you like you were an angel cast down from heaven, love behind his eyes as he reached up and cupped one of your breasts in his hand, tugging at your nipple. Miles knew he shouldn’t have, but his finger flicked the switch to his side, and your moans echoed through the wall the moment he did.

“Oh! Ben, yes, yes!” Then as the author brought your nipple to his mouth, you whined, “Just like that – fuck!”

Unable to contain his own moans, Miles had to cover his mouth to drown out the sound as he palmed himself. The expression on his face could only be described as half scared, half aroused as Ben easily flipped you over.

“Shhh, darling,” Ben whispered with a smirk. “Don’t want to wake the neighbors now do we?”

“We’re the only ones in this fucking hotel. Shut up and fuck me harder, Ben.”

The author simply chuckled at your words, “As you wish.”

Your whine of Ben's name as he thrusted into you at a quicker pace nearly made Miles fall over. A wet, squelching sound of his dick slamming into your cunt followed behind every one of Ben's grunts, letting Miles and Ben know just how aroused you were.

You grabbed at his back, nails digging into his skin as you felt the pressure in your belly build, “Ben, m'close!"

Ben growled, picking up pace, “I got you, come on baby, come on my cock.”

Sweat dripped down the hotel clerk’s neck as he watched you moan. Seeing you come undone was the most beautiful thing. The way your eyes fluttered as you felt your orgasm reaching closer and closer, how you threw your head back and let out a strangled whine as you came on your husband’s cock was a work of art. A masterpiece.

Miles could barely hold back his whimper as he watched you cum. Ben handled you with a gentle touch, caressing your face as your back arched off the bed when you landed with an ‘oof’. Instead of Ben continuing on and chasing his own orgasm, he stopped, checking in on you. He pulled you into a deep, languid kiss, muttering the softest ‘you okay?’ 

You nodded, chuckling lightly as Ben pressed another kiss to your sweaty forehead. Miles was astounded at how attuned you and Ben were to each other, like you knew your partner’s next move before they did. When you moved, he moved; it was instinctive, but Miles guessed that must be what it’s like when you’ve found your person. The love of your life. Something Miles never had the pleasure of knowing.

Not with his high school sweetheart who he swapped kisses with under the school bleachers and who he swore he was going to marry when he returned from the war, or the various men he’d slept with on these very hotel beds. No, no they didn’t count. Miles was nothing more than a faded memory or another notch on their belts.

Miles couldn’t look any longer. He ignored the ache between his legs, covered the bulge in his pants with one hand and hobbled toward the exit. Once he got to his room, he’d be able to relive the ache he felt. And if the image of your breast in his mouth and Ben's hand wrapped around his cock was the only image that could make the lonely Catholic boy cum, he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Not even God himself.

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Time seemed to fly with you and Ben at the El Royale. Usually, the days were dull and mundane, dragging on where 24 hours felt like 48. Miles didn’t think he’d see much of you besides the occasional room service or cocktail at the bar, but you and Ben rarely ever kept to yourselves.

He didn’t remember how it started, but you started sharing meals together almost immediately. Maybe it was when you offered him some pizza after ordering too much or because you ate together at the bar as you swapped stories about life in the Big Apple compared to Miles’s country life back in Indiana.

And then it turned into cooking lessons where you and Ben tried to recreate your mother’s famous chocolate pie. Miles tried to stifle a laugh as he watched you two work. Ben's hair was nearly all white with how much flour you'd thrown at him when ‘he accidentally’ got some chocolate on your face. Miles, in return, baked you both his Nana’s award-winning peach cobbler. 

Ben was almost always in the lobby or patio, pen and notebook in hand as he jotted down idea after idea. The first time Miles saw those glasses perched up on the author’s nose, he nearly stumbled back to the room he came out from. Now Miles wasn’t an idiot; Ben Mears was attractive. He thought so the moment he turned to the back cover of one of his books and read the ‘About the Author’ section and there was Ben posed with his squinted eyes and finger on his chin as if in deep thought. But with those glasses, that collared shirt and the sun illuminating behind him, Miles nearly thought he was in some romance novel.

“You alright there, Miles?”

“Huh? Oh!” Miles jumped when he realized he’d been caught staring. He was grateful Ben didn’t comment on it. The author simply smirked to himself as the hotel clerk’s ears burned red, “Ye-yeah, m’fine.”

That exact interaction happened on more than one occasion. And Ben wore that shit-eating grin each and every time.

But they only really started bonding one night when Miles had woken up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as the memories of gun fire, blood and screams of his fallen comrades shook him awake. He knew he couldn’t stay in bed, so he made his way down to the lobby, sliding on his slippers as he grabbed his robe off the side of the bed.

A few dim lanterns lit up the El Royale at this time of night, but the lobby for the most part was dark and deserted. Well, usually it was deserted.

“Hi.”

“Christ!”

Miles nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face Ben, who was sitting by himself on the lobby couch in the dark, looking quite amused at the sound Miles let out. Ben was lying across one of the couches, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Definitely won’t be able to anymore…” Miles muttered under his breath before walking behind the bar, “Tea?”

The other man shrugged, “If you don’t mind.”

While the kettle was warming up, Miles eyed Ben. He had gotten up and was messing with the fireplace, face scrunched up in frustration that it wasn't doing what he wanted.

“Here,” Miles walked over, taking over so Ben wouldn't break it. If it broke, who knew when management would ever get around to fixing the damn thing, “Let me help.”

Ben smiled at him sheepishly, heat crawling up his neck in embarrassment, “Thanks, sorry.”

Miles just threw him a tired smile, and in a flash, viola! Orange, red, and yellow flames bounced off the walls of the room, “What brings you out here so late?”

“Can’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake her up with my tossing and turning so….” Ben trailed off, gesturing to himself.

Once the kettle whistled and Miles made himself comfortable on the couch across from the author, it didn’t take long for the two men to start talking. First, it was just about their day, asking what errands the other ran, what plans they had for tomorrow, before turning into what led to them both seeking each other’s company.

“What’s keeping you up?”

“Oh, um,” An explosion. Smoke. Fire. Dead eyes, “Nothing just, I get nightmares from time to time. Bad… memories.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Miles meant by that. Ben had a feeling Miles served the moment he met the skittish man before him. Miles didn’t look like the stereotypical military, with his slouched shoulders and meek demeanor, but that look in his eyes screamed of someone who’d seen and survived things most couldn’t even fathom. Ben was lucky enough to have not been caught up in the draft, but he knew many who weren’t.

Ben bit the inside of his cheek, his voice much more serious than it had been all night long, “The war?”

Miles didn’t need to say anything, just a nod was enough, “W-what about you? What’s keeping you up?”

“Also, a nightmare, well, sort of. My parents died in a fire when I was very young, so I don’t really remember much about it. But when I’m sleeping, I can sometimes still feel things from that night, but it’s all fuzzy.” Ben let out a dry chuckle, shaking the thoughts out of his head, “Guess sometimes things are so bad your brain won’t let you remember them.”

“Well, my brain seems to do the opposite, won’t let me forget. I can still see them. The bodies, the dead eyes. The smell…” Miles flinched, like the memory was physically attacking him, “Can never forget the smell.”

Miles muttered the last part, but then, like a flip had been switched, he blinked, realizing what he’d revealed, not expecting himself to say something so real and personal. Ben looked like he was going to say something, but Miles didn’t want to dive deeper into it, “Sorry, forget I said anything.”

“No, don't apologize-”

“How’s the tea?” Miles said that sharper than he intended. He’s glad his Nana isn't here to slap him over the head for being so rude.

Ben stumbled over his words. “The – oh the tea? Y-yeah it’s good. Nice. Warm. Honey?”

Miles nodded, hiding away from Ben’s pity filled eyes, “Honey.”

A silence fell over them, and Ben looked like he wanted to say more. He knew Miles didn’t want to dive back into the past conversation, but he thought about complimenting Miles on how hospitable he’d been to them since they got here. Or maybe he’d compliment his eyes. They were so blue and so pretty; Ben could get lost in them if he stared for too long. But the blare of Miles’s alarm in his room interrupted him before he could say anything else.

“Oh! Is it nearly 6 already?”

“Huh? Oh... shit it is.” Ben messed with his hair, groaning as he stood up and looked at his watch, “Thanks for keeping me company this morning, or night or whatever.”

Miles smiled, ignoring the fluttering in his chest at how adorable Ben looked with his messy hair and tired eyes, before heading back toward his room, “See you for breakfast.”

Ben watched as he left, unable to deny the fact he wished he could’ve stayed talking to Miles, even for just a little longer, “See you.”

Those nightcaps between the two men continued on nearly every night, a routine of sorts. Sometimes they talked about nothing and everything. Almost every time, without fail, you came up. Ben could tell the other man was fond of you. Miles probably thought the shadows kept the blush across his cheeks concealed, but Ben could tell from a mile away. It made Ben all the more confident that the one-sided attraction you and he had for Miles wasn’t so one-sided after all.

At first Ben thought Miles was only attracted to you. The hotel clerk wasn’t exactly the best at hiding it. The way his gaze lingered on you for just a little too long whenever you came down for your morning coffee, and how he blushed as red as a cherry tomato whenever you teased him. 

The one that always made Ben laugh every time he thought about it when he was watching you look over the engine of your guys’ car. You had taken it upon yourself to give it a once over when it wouldn’t start that morning before calling a mechanic that was going to charge way too much for a simple tow.

Blue eyes watched from behind the room blinds as your head was tucked under the hood of the car. Ben couldn’t help himself from ogling your ass from that angle, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one.

Ben’s eyes flickered over to Miles, who looked like he was just getting ready to do his afternoon stroll around the property when he saw you outside. Although you were facing away from him, he could tell you were frustrated from the cursing under your breath and how you threw the rag in your hand down on the engine followed by more expletives.

Averting his eyes from your ass and staring at the ground instead, he called out to you, “Car trouble?”

You turned to face him, sending him a strained smile before turning back to the car, “I was going to go into town and pick up a few things and it just… wouldn’t start, piece of shit,” you muttered those last words to yourself. You knew if Ben heard you say that about his beloved MG MGB, he would not stand for it. It was his pride and joy, even though he knew nothing about cars. “Miles… Do you happen to know of any mechanic in town? Maybe someone friendly enough that they won’t charge an arm and a leg just to look at the damn thing.”

Miles chuckled, “Afraid not, ma’am, but I’m sure we can find someone in the phone book.” He heard you mutter a ‘fuck’ before perking up again, “D-do you want me to take a look?”

You nearly jumped for joy at the offer. While you knew some things about cars, you were nowhere near an expert, “Would you? Do you know cars like that?”

Miles shakes his head, “N-not really, but I learned a little bit about them in LBJ.”

You tilted your head to the side, confused, “In what now?”

“Long Binh Junction.” When you still looked confused, he muttered, “In Vietnam.”

“Oh!” You straightened up at that, smile dimming slightly, “You served?”

“Y-yes, but that’s another life now.”

Noting how he seemed to skirt around the subject, you just nodded, “You’re too kind, Miles.”

He took the tool from your open hand, again feeling that static energy, but he didn't acknowledge it and kept his head down “Just helping where I can.”

Looking to make small talk while under the hood of your car, Miles asked, “Does Mr. Mears not –” Miles motioned to the engine of the car, and you couldn’t help but chortle at the mere idea of Ben knowing anything about cars.

“Ben may be gifted when it comes to writing, but cars? Anything to do with any type of machinery besides a pen and paper? He’s hopeless.” You proudly grinned when you heard Miles laugh.

“Oh, I think I see the issue.” Miles took the rag you handed him, wiping his hands clean as he explained, “Needs a new battery, and some spark plugs. Nothing too hard to change if you got the right tools, which I’m sure I got…”

The hotel clerk seemed to forget his words as his eyes moved from your face to the hand on his arm. Your hand was on his arm, rubbing it up and down before giving it a gentle squeeze as you smiled. Miles nearly combusted when you pressed an appreciative kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Miles. We’d be calling every mechanic in the phone book if it wasn’t for you.”

Heat bloomed under the hotel clerk's skin, his entire face turning a light shade of pink that reached all the way down to his neck, “O-of course. Um, d-do you need, um, me to help you to order the parts? Or, or I can help -”

You waved him off, “It’s quite alright Miles, you’ve done more than enough. I’ll get Ben to handle it. If he can’t look at a car, the least he can do is order the parts, no?”

“Right, right.” He stepped back, watching as you closed the hood of the car. His eyes couldn't help but wonder at your dress, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at how it hugged your figure in all the right places. 

Ben hummed in interest as he watched you two bid each other goodbye, not at all missing how the hotel clerk’s gaze lingered on you, completely unbothered by it. You and he had always been different from other couples, more understanding than most.

You shared your bed with a third person only twice before. Both left you and your husband reeling in the aftermath when you learned the other wanted nothing more than to experiment or live to tell the tale of a wild night sleeping with a married couple. Although you didn’t care what others thought, you couldn’t be too upset when your past partners left when they realized you both wanted more.

Pretty soon after your talk under the hood of Ben’s car, you and Miles got really close over your shared hobbies. Miles liked to knit while you crocheted. They were different yet similar art forms. Sometimes you’d read aloud while Miles knit or cleaned around the lobby, stopping every so often to laugh at the dialog the author used or speculate about what you thought was going to happen next.

One time you surprised him. The weather started to get colder, the sun set earlier and the clouds started creeping in closer and closer every day. You noticed that Miles’ clothes seemed too sparse. He mainly wore his work uniform but on more than one chilly night, you found the hotel clerk wondering about the grounds shivering from the cold, his cheeks red as he tried and failed to protect his face from the icy winds.

Miles knew you were making something, but he thought it was for Ben. Imagine his surprise when you gave him a scarf, wrapping it around his neck and sides of his head as you explained why you were giving it to him. Miles thought it was beautiful. It was brown and soft, and so, so warm.

“I don’t know what to say, just, thank you. Thank you so much.”

You laughed as Miles hugged you, “I’m glad you like it.” Before placing a delicate kiss on the man’s cheek. It was the second one you’d given him, and Miles couldn’t believe it. Were you always so affectionate with people you didn’t know? Was this just something reserved for him, because you were friends? Was it… Could it…?

When you pulled back, Miles looked like he wanted to say something, his mouth hanging open and eyebrows raised as his throat went dry. Instead, he just mumbled another ‘thank you’ before holding the scarf close to him. The very next day Miles was dressed in his usual work attire but with one other addition, your scarf.

A couple days later, Miles had a gift of his own for you. Originally, he was knitting the blanket for himself. As the El Royale aged, the insulation in the building worsened and as the colder time of the year drew near and with management giving no indication into upgrading the bedding of the hotel, Miles decided to make a blanket of his own. But when he heard from Ben that you'd been shivering more at night, he immediately knew the blanket was no longer his to keep.

“For you.”

Your eyes widened, a surprised smile on your face as Miles revealed the secret he’d been hiding behind his back. A gasp escaped you as you touched the fabric. It was wool, but not the itchy kind. It was thick and soft, the best thing to wrap around yourself as you sat beside the fire with a book in your lap as it rained outside.

Clutching it to your chest, you beamed at him, “Miles! You shouldn't have. Oh! I love it!”

He rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his face as you complimented the fabric and his technique, “I know, but… you mentioned being cold at night now that winter's coming, and I, uh, well, I also wanted to thank you for the scarf you gave me.”

Lightly, you flicked his shoulder, ignoring his little ‘hey!’ “You don't need to give me things in return, Miles. That was a gift.”

“I know! I know, but I just…wanted to do something nice for you.”

Miles shrunk away at his confession, eyes glued to the floor. Your heart nearly soared out of your chest at his words. You thanked him again with a hug this time, and Miles couldn't help but bury his head in your neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, not wanting the hug to end.

The night Miles knew he was absolutely and unequivocally gone for both of you was a couple of days later. You were going about your usual routine, reading a book in the lobby as Miles sat beside you, this time with his blanket over your lap. 

At first Miles always sat far away enough as to not make you uncomfortable, but in your time together, he went from sitting on the other side of the couch to you being tucked under his arm, a blanket you made thrown over both your laps with your mugs of Chamomile resting on the table.

Your head lulled to the side as you started speaking slower and yawning between your sentences. Then, silence. The thump of the book in your hands falling shut when your hands went limp echoed as Miles felt the added weight of your head in the crook of his neck.

Oh. My. God.

Miles froze. He carefully moved to peek at you before looking straight ahead again. Okay, okay it’s fine, it’s fine. Besides the fact you’re going to be upset at losing your spot in the book when you wake up later, this was all going to be fine. He just needed his heart to stop beating out of his chest as he caught a whiff of your shampoo.

Miles bit his bottom lip as he stared down at you. He just didn’t have it in his heart to wake you, but he knew you’d do much better sleeping in your own bed than the hotel lobby, so he hooked one arm under your legs and picked you up bridal style. He stopped breathing for a moment when you stirred, looking like a deer in headlights until you settled down, mumbling something in your sleep as you snuggled his chest. Breathing a sigh of relief, Miles made sure you were secure in his arms, and carried you to your room.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, just as Miles reached your room, a groggy Ben opened the door, saving him from having to figure out how to knock and make sure you don’t wake up at the same time.

“Oh! Miles! Hey, wha- oh. She fell asleep?”

“Y-yeah,” Miles whispered, checking to make sure you didn't wake up at Ben’s voice, but thankfully all you did was stir before nuzzling closer to his chest. You were going to be the death of him and you didn't even know what you were doing, “I didn't have the heart to wake her up.”

The two men shared a smile before Ben stepped aside to let Miles in. Ben tried to offer his arms up to take you, but Miles shook his head. He’d hate to have you get woken up because he transferred you from his arms to Ben's.  

Miles set you down on the bed while Ben took off your shoes, a tense, yet comfortable silence falling between them. Tense for Miles because he was finally in the room he’d watched you and Ben on that first day you checked in. He avoided the backrooms since that day he saw you having sex. No matter how tempted he was, he wasn’t going to violate your privacy like that again.

The floorboards creaked as Ben got up and snatched up a pair of wool socks from your drawer before sitting down on the bed and bringing your legs into his lap, “Her feet run cold, so she always gotta sleep with her fuzzy socks on.”

Miles chuckled, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, thank goodness too.” Ben rubbed your calves, smiling fondly down at your sleeping figure, “No more getting attacked by her icicles every night and morning as long as she got them on.”

Two sets of blue eyes met and after a beat, stifled laughter filled the room. Miles grinned even wider when Ben told him not to tell you he told him that. Ben's love for you was so obvious and raw and real. Though his heart broke because he knew he’d never experience that with either of you, he was happy for you both.  

“Did you end up finding what you were looking for?”

Ben cocked a brow at Miles, “Whatcha mean?”

While throwing another blanket over your sleeping body, Miles reminded Ben, “You said that when you checked in. That you were searching for something, that something was missing in New York. Did you find it?”

Ben paused, watching as Miles tucked you in. All the instincts in his body told him to lean forward, kiss the man next to him and tell him he was who they were looking for, but he shook his head at the thought. “Yeah, yeah I think we have.”

Finally satisfied that you were comfortable, Miles turned to Ben, “Good.” But there was something different in his eyes when he said it. Something almost… sad.

Ben noticed immediately, concerned, “You okay?”

Miles nodded, avoiding Ben's face as he stood up, “Yeah, yeah, I'm just tired. I’ll leave you be, have a good night.” And like that, Miles rushed out. He could barely hear Ben's response with how quickly he dashed out of there.

When Miles finally made it back to his own quarters, sitting there alone in the dark, desolate room, he could finally let himself break down at what Ben's words really meant. His hands shook, as he tried to unbutton his shirt, a ragged exhale leaving his lungs when he could finally get it off him. If you truly found what you were looking for, the day would soon come that you two would finally check out and he’d never see you again. That made his heart race, and not in a good way.

He’d like to imagine you’d be indefinite guests here. He had gotten so used to having someone to talk to. You two became the people who helped pass the time when he was polishing the same unused glasses for the hundredth time. There were other guests who stayed when you were there, but neither had the effect on him that you two did. It was like you were a witch and cast a spell on him, keeping him only on you.

Miles shook his head at himself. He shouldn't be thinking this. You and Ben weren't his to keep. To have and to hold. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest, inducing sleep to avoid pain, but no matter how hard he tried, his brain wouldn't shut up. All he saw when he closed his eyes was the back of Ben's car as you and Ben left him, forever. So he did something he hadn't done in a while. Miles thought he wasn't worthy of God's ear for a long time now. Someone who's hurt as many people as he had should not get that pleasure. Nor someone with the same temptations as he.

“Lord,” Miles began, dropping to his knees and intertwining his hands together as he prayed, “I know I have no reason to ask this of you right now, but I need your help. Please, rid me of these urges and wants. I know it’s not right, wanting a man and woman, a married couple, but I can't-” Miles inhaled sharply, nearly collapsing against the edge of his bed as he felt tears brimming his eyes, “Please just stop it. I don't wanna miss them when they leave. Please.”

It almost made Miles chuckle at the irony of it all. He used to pray for a lover who'd love him whole and completely, and yet here he is now, praying his feelings would disappear.

Miles wiped the stray tear from his cheek, sniffling as he got up and settled himself into bed. The cold bed squeaked under him as he pulled one of his pillows into his arm, pulling it under his chin so he had something to hold. Miles liked to think he did this because it brought him some comfort, but really, it was so that way he could sleep, imagining for once, he wasn't going to bed alone.

It was apparent that his prayers went unanswered when your impending departure was the only thing on Miles’s mind all day long. It was all he thought of as he washed the dishes from last night's dinner, cleaned the counters for the fifth time that day and as Miles prepared Ben a drink for their usual nightcap. You two had mostly kept to yourselves today, and Miles hated to admit how much he missed your company. He really wanted to march down to your room and ask if he could come in to just be near you. Whether it be watching TV, listening to the radio or reading a book, he didn’t care. But that would’ve been too much.

He was almost afraid Ben wouldn't come tonight because he had barely seen him, but when the author finally made an appearance, Miles let out a sigh of relief. The usual pleasantries were exchanged between them, before Miles went to get Ben's drink ready and that was when his mind wandered to you. Should he ask for you to join them? He’d really like that. Even though you were probably busy, but he just -

“You alright there, Miles?”

Miles blinked, dropping the spoon into the drink he’d most definitely over stirred as he got lost in his head. Ben sat right across from him, book in hand and glasses perched up on his nose.

The longer the hotel clerk looked at the famed author, the drier his mouth felt. 

Ben looked at him, concerned, still waiting for an answer.

Miles’s voice came out shakier than intended, “O-oh right. Yes, yes, I’m f-fine.”

Ben hummed, putting the book in his lap down and standing up, “I’m gonna miss this place ya know?”

“Oh!?” Christ Miles! Keep your voice at a normal octave.

“Yeah…” Ben trailed off, gazing at Miles with a look so intense the hotel clerk had to look away, “Like I said, finally found that thing I was looking for. Plus, we’ve been getting a bit antsy for a change of scenery. Not saying California isn’t pretty but…”

Miles laughed half-heartedly, before his face turned serious again, “W-when will you be going?” he doubts you’ll be leaving soon. You have to at least give him a two week notice. So he could mentally prepare. He’ll make sure to cherish his time with you both even more. Not that he already didn't, but he’d make sure to remember the sound of your laugh, the smell of Ben's cologne. Maybe he can take one of your pillows, so he can still have something that smelled of you both, until it inevitably disappeared with time -

“Probably in a couple days. At most a week.”

“What!? But that’s so-” Miles cleared his throat, collecting himself. Pull yourself together man! “Sorry, I mean, that’s soon.”

Ben nodded, tapping his finger on the armrest of the couch, “I know…” before he changed the subject, a look flashing across his face that Miles didn't recognize. “Do you dance?”

Miles flashed him an incredulous look, but shook his head, “Not really, no.”

Ben stood up, walking to the dusty jukebox with a sway in his step. The author tapped his foot as he searched for a record to play, before he found the perfect one.

And yet as the record started to play, instead of sitting back down and humming the tune like Ben usually did on nights like this, he walked up to Miles and outstretched his hand.

“Neither do I.”

Miles tried to wave him off, shaking his head when Ben beckoned him over, “O-oh no, I can’t”

“Come on, what’s one dance?”

Miles gave him a look. One dance was asking a lot. That meant Miles would be pressed up against Ben, nose to nose, well, chin to nose since Ben had a couple inches on him, but still, they'd be so close. And what if Miles stepped on his feet? Or what if he'd look so deeply into Miles' soul that he’d realize his feelings for the author? For you? Oh you. What if YOU walked in and thought-

Ben's hand slid over his shoulder, grabbing Miles’s attention. Ben still had that stupid smile on his face,”Comeon, just this once.” 

Miles let out an exasperated sigh, acting as if having the chance to be so close to the man that made his heart skip and head spin was such a chore, “Alright. But if I step on your feet, it’s your own fault.”

“Yesss!”

Miles laughed at his reaction, his stomach doing somersaults as an ink-stained hand wrapped around his smaller, paler hand. Ben held Miles tight at the waist, their hips swaying as the chorus of the song played.

“Is this okay?”

Goosebumps spread up and down Miles’s neck as he felt Ben's hot breath on his skin, “Y-yes, fine. It’s fine.”

“Good, good.” Wooden floorboards creaked quietly under them as they swayed. Miles kept his gaze focused on Ben’s Adam's apple, too scared to look up. And Ben couldn’t take his eyes off the other man, he barely could since he met the man all those months ago. 

Ben was immediately taken with Miles when you met him that first night. You weren't at all surprised as you heard Ben rave to you about how cute the doe-eyed hotel clerk was, gushing about how he blushed and stuttered. Ben always liked to claim he fell in love with you the moment you met, and so far, he’s yet to contradict that statement. And then not even a week later, you were doing the same. Your face hot and flustered as Ben teased you about your crush after he caught you doodling Miles’s face in that notebook of yours. That’s when you knew you had to decide quickly if you wanted to pursue something with Miles or not. And the answer was obvious to you both, and Ben was looking to take that leap for you both.

Ben couldn’t help himself as he blurted out, “You’re beautiful.”

“Ummm,” Miles swallowed, stiffening as his eyes darted from Ben to the floor.

Ben caught on, and started rubbing circles with his thumb on Miles's hip bone, “I don’t mean to offend or make you feel awkward, it’s just, you are. Very beautiful.”

The air went still, something shifting between them. It felt like time stopped as the music playing became nothing but a quiet lull as the two men stared at one another. Miles couldn't stop looking at Ben's crooked smile, memorized. Ben looked like he was in a trance as he brushed the lonely curl out of Miles eyes, cupping his cheek after.

“I-”

Ben leaned forward, placing a delicate, almost tentative kiss against Miles’ lips. Miles’s breath hitched, his brain glitching for a moment before he kissed back. Oh, this was better than Miles could have ever imagined. Ben was so gentle with him, cupping his cheek as he pulled him into a deeper kiss. 

Ben's hands tightened along Miles's waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Miles' hands got tangled up in the author's hair, the kiss going from sweet to excited.

Ben's lips were so soft; he tasted so sweet. Then, Miles thought of you. Would your lips be just as soft? Would he be able to taste the flavor of your chapstick as his tongue danced along your mouth? 

Wait…no, this was all wrong.

In an instant, Miles pushed back, “N-no.”

Ben tried, cupping his face again, “Miles-”

“You’re married.”

The sound Miles made nearly broke Ben’s heart. He sounded so broken. So betrayed at Ben for kissing him, for making him a perpetrator in a seeming attempt to commit adultery. If he only knew this was meant to happen. Not exactly of course. You and Ben were going to talk to Miles before you left. To explain your feelings to the man you’d both come to care for far more intensely than you should for only knowing him a few months, but you needed to let him know before you left.

“Yes, but Miles, she, we, we both-”

“No!” Miles snapped, his lip wobbling as he backed away even further from Ben, “I- I need to go. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to, I just, I need to go.”

“Miles!” Ben tried to get him to stop, but the sound of the maintenance door slamming shut was deafening. The author rubbed his face. With all the vocabulary and literacy experience he had, there was only one word he could use to describe this situation he’d just put himself in and what he was feeling as he thought of telling you what he’d just done.

“Shit.”

---

Miles couldn’t hide from either of you for too long.

He stayed in his room in the hour following his outburst, spending most of his time on his knees, praying with his Nana's old rosary. But he knew it was futile, for if he doubted God was listening to him before, he surely wasn't listening now. Not after that kiss. 

And he also felt so bad about how he snapped at Ben. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about it. Ben was the outlier here, but that shattered look in Ben's eyes kept flashing to the front of his mind every time he closed his eyes.

It’d only been a couple hours since his adulterous kiss when he got a call from your room. He debated letting it ring, too scared of confrontation, but the longer that shrill ring of the phone went on, the worse his fear of you storming over and telling him off in person grew. You wouldn’t be mad at him. He knew that. Your husband was the one who kissed him after all, but Miles honestly didn’t know what to expect. 

Miles’s voice only wavered slightly as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible, “Thank you for calling the-the, um El Royale. This is M-Miles speaking.”

“Miles…” you sounded tense, like you just had an argument and were holding in all your emotions. Miles gripped the phone even harder hearing the shakiness in your voice, “Could you be a dear and come by the room when you have a chance? There’s something…” You paused, and Miles wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “Something we need to discuss with you.”

Panicked, “M-ma’am, I swear I –”

“We’ll see you in a bit, Miles.”

Defeatedly, he responded, “O-okay.”

“Great, thank you.”

Miles’s hands shook even worse as he put the phone down. His eyes flickered over to where your room was; all the lines of windows from the empty rooms were pitch black besides yours. Despite the curtains being drawn closed, he could still see the light from inside. 

His fingers twitched as he stared at the door leading to the back rooms. It wasn't right, he knew that, but part of him wanted to know what he was getting into before he left. But a flicker from outside drew his attention. Your curtain opened, and he couldn't tell who was there, but it looked like someone was looking out the window, probably looking for him. 

The walk to your room felt like the most strenuous journey. Fallen leaves and gravel crunched under his shoes, the clouds circling over the El Royale in a way that made Miles sure it was a taunt.  A glimpse into the storm he was walking into. When Miles got to your door, he debated just turning around and hightailing it back to his little shack of a room until your door creaked open.

There you stood, wrapped up in the blankets Miles knit for you, with swollen eyes, like you'd been crying, and with a look on your face Miles couldn’t decipher. A mix of sadness, anger, and something he couldn’t quite understand (hope?) was etched across your face. 

“Miles.” Your voice sounded rough, smile not reaching your eyes. “Thank you for coming. Please come in.”

Miles shook his head, backing away, but you reached out, grip firm but still gentle, and tugged him inside, “Please Miles, we just want to talk.”

He let you pull him in, and the first thing the hotel clerk saw was Ben sitting on the couch, a look of guilt flooding his face. The author looked like a dog who’d just been caught doing something bad and received the reprimand of a lifetime. He tried to send Miles a reassuring smile, but Miles averted his eyes to the floor, shame flooding him all over again.

“Miles-”

“I’m sorry -” He immediately fell to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain he felt as his bone connected with the wooden floors at the wrong angle. He didn't flinch when he heard Ben’s involuntary gasp or the scrape of the chair behind him, his hand clasped together with yours as he begged for forgiveness, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any distress!”

Your hands shot out, trying to get him off the floor, “Miles please, stand up, you don’t need to -”

“I’m terribly sorry for – I swear I would never -”

“Miles, Miles please! There isn’t anything to forgive. Ben was supposed to wait until -”

“Please don't be mad! I swear - wait, wait, wait…” Miles’s eyes flickering to you then Ben and back to you, “Supposed to wait… for what? To.. to kiss me?”

You nodded, helping the open-mouthed clerk up off the floor onto the edge of the bed, sitting beside him. Ben stayed on the other side of the room, waiting for your okay to move.

Miles looked less stressed but more confused now, “What… I don’t... I don't understand.”

You sighed, rubbing his back, “This isn't how we wanted to tell you. We had a plan in place.” You spoke very pointedly at Ben, who cringed and slumped down in his seat at your tone.

“A… a plan?”

You exhaled, squaring your shoulders up like it’d give you the confidence you needed to confess, “We were going to ask you out properly at least once before we left. Take you somewhere nice now that the car’s fixed. We knew we couldn’t just spring this on you out of nowhere. We thought we weren’t being subtle about it, but maybe we were.”

“So… so you're not mad at me? For the kiss?”

“At you? Heavens no! I was mad at Ben for not acting according to plan…” You trailed off, watching your husband lean forward and face palm himself, “Only slightly.”

Miles looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You… you and Ben… you wanted him? How… Why? Did God finally answer his prayers and give him the love he so sought after? No, Miles didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. You wanted him. Him! He wasn’t going to question it.

“A-all this time - I, I’ve never felt this way before. I didn’t think it was right. Falling for two people, let alone a married couple, but -” Ben moved closer, noticing the shake in Miles’s voice, and Miles immediately leaned into him, “But I have. It’d be a lie to suggest otherwise.”

Nudging your nose against his, you asked, “Can I kiss you, Miles?”

He didn’t care that he sounded desperate and needy when he answered you, “Please.”

You closed the gap between you, hands cupping Miles’s cheeks as you finally kissed the man you’d been pinning over for so long. It may be a cliche, but you swore you felt sparks fly as your lips met. Hands gripped your sides tight, like Miles was afraid you’d disappear if he let you go. Like he was so scared that he’d open his eyes and find this was all some cruel dream. That he wasn’t actually here, kissing the woman of his dreams.

It escalated after that. You had told yourselves you wouldn’t, but sometimes instincts took over and all you could do is act. Ben’s cock ached the longer he watched you two, and he desperately needed another taste.

His cock twitched as the shy hotel clerk let out the most adorable squeak when Ben quickly pulled him away, barely letting him breathe before capturing him in another heated kiss. You didn’t let that interruption deter you. As much as you would’ve liked to spend hours kissing Miles, you found yourself littering the neck of the man sandwiched between you two with hickies, sucking and biting wherever you could.

Miles’s breath hitched as hands tugged on the hotel clerk’s belt. A choked cry left him as Ben slid his hand under Miles’s underwear and touched him. It’d been so, so long since Miles felt a touch that wasn’t his there. And Ben wasn’t rough or quick with his movements like how Miles touched himself. He was curious, languid in his movements as his hand stroked him. Miles could’ve cum from just this, you sucking on his pulse point and Ben jerking him off, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to be as close to you as possible when that time came.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

You pulled back, “What’s wrong?”

Ben’s hand moved from his cock, but Miles’s hand stopped him before he could pull away, “Are we moving too fast? Are you okay?”

“M’fine, I swear, more than fine. I just…I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You cooed at how shy he was admitting that. Miles blushed even harder when you gave his cheek another peck, “Okay, let’s go at your pace. Where do you want us, baby?”

“I don’t know, I just- I just want you both, please.”

“Wanna sit on his face, love?”

Miles’s hips jerked forward at that. His face somehow burned even hotter when you and Ben chuckled at his desperation.

“I think that’s a yes.”

You chuckled at Ben before turning back to him, “Want that honey? Want me to sit on your face?”

He nodded, but you shook your head, “Need to hear you say it baby.”

“Yes, please!”

With that, you kissed him again, both you and Ben working quickly to rid Miles of his clothes and then your own. Once the three of you were in your naked glory, you maneuvered Miles onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow. You hovered over the hotel clerk’s face, giggling as you wiped a bit of drool from his chin.

“Ready, darling?”

Miles nodded, licking his lips  as he stared at your pretty pussy.

You tutted, hand coming up and pulling at his hair. You felt a slick rush through your heat at the pathetic whine Miles let out, “Words.”

“Y-yes, please. I'm ready, I'm ready.”

The moment your pussy connected with Miles’s face, he went wild. Gone was the frazzled, shy hotel clerk from before, now in his place, was a man frenzied for the taste of a pussy he had been dreaming of for oh so long. His tongue darted forward, tracing every surface and crevice of your folds. Miles couldn't get enough; you tasted so sweet and you were so wet for him already.

Your fingers found their way into Miles' unruly locks, decimating the presentable, put-together look they’d had as you curled your fingers into a fist and pulled. You moaned, feeling his tongue glide along your slick-soaked folds. A whimper escaped your gritted teeth as his nose bumped against your clit, and it took everything in you to not start grinding against his face to chase after the feeling, “Miles! Yes! Yes! Fuck, do that again!”

And do that again he did. Every bump of his nose against your sensitive little nub had you seeing stars, thighs tightening over his head, but Miles didn't care. He'd happily suffocate between your legs if it meant he got to hear you mewl and whine his name all day.

Ben watched from the side, entranced. He rubbed his clothed cock, moaning quietly as you turned back to look at him, throwing him a quick wink before going back to facing Miles. Ben couldn't ignore the strain in his pants anymore. You just looked so beautiful like this, both of you. If it was possible, he would’ve gotten this moment framed so it could be immortalized. That look in Miles’s eyes as he looked up at you, studying every part of your face, making sure he was pleasing you the way you deserved. The way your mouth opened in an ‘O’, a moan escaping you as Miles’s nose bumped your clit again.

The bed dipped as the author crawled toward you two. Swiftly, Ben grabbed a hold of those slim, pale legs and spread them apart, his mouth watering as Miles's puckered hole fluttered back at him, “So beautiful.” Ben muttered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against him.

Miles squeaked against you, hole tightening. Ben chuckled, “God you're so cute,” before he spit on his entrance. A desperate, muffled sound escaped Miles as he heard the clasp of the lube and felt two fingers probing at his entrance. He whined, grabbing your thighs even tighter as Ben's fingers entered him. 

You couldn't help but giggle as you started grinding down on his face, “Open him up nice and good, Ben. He makes the most adorable noises.”

“So fucking adorable,” Ben muttered, “Cant wait till i feel him around me.” 

Precum spurted from Miles’s slit when he heard that, and you giggled, cooing at how blown Miles eyes were as Ben began scissoring him open. Every curl and twist of those long fingers elicited moans, each one louder than the last. And the louder Miles was, the more those fingers worked.

Ben made eyes at you, giving you a look that said ‘watch this’ and you quirked up a brow, wondering what he was going to do. And then, Miles jerked, moaning against your sex and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt Ben ghost his prostate, teasing him. Goosebumps littered Miles' skin when Ben bit down on the flesh of his thigh, legs jerking to the side when Ben did it again with a rougher bite.

It didn’t take long for you to climax after that. You could feel the coil in your belly twisting and turning with every whimper, grunt, and lap at your folds. Miles had a wondrous tongue, keeping you on edge for the longest time, but Miles, feeling overwhelmed with the new, exciting feeling, instinctively wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and sucked. That did you in.

The noise that came from you was high-pitched, almost animalistic as you arched your back, toes curling and thighs clenching as waves crashed through your body, the cry of Miles’s name leaving your lips as your orgasm wracked through you. Thank God the bed had a headboard for you to hold onto or else you would have collapsed entirely on the man under you. Slick gushed over Miles' face, and he didn't care. He kept lapping and sucking on your arousal. 

You whined, “Miles, m’sensitive” and slowly lifted your hips, muscles aching from being in the same position for so long, but before you could get far, you were pulled back down.

Blue eyes glimmered with want, the hands around your thighs tightening as they tried to keep you in place. You laughed, shaking your head at the hazy eyes under you, “Oh, Miles. Miles, Miles, Miles.” Another whine from him made you giggle. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, you let him stay there for a little longer before you had to physically pry his hands off you, “Come on baby, let me go. Don't worry, I ain’t going anywhere, just wanna lay down beside you.”

Finally, with sad eyes, he let you go. The moment you were off him, Ben couldn’t help but surge forward, purring against Miles’s lips, “Wanna taste you two together,” before his tongue slipped between those plush, slick-coated lips. Clammy hands wrapped around Ben's shoulders, tugging him closer. They got lost in each other, hands roaming everywhere, grabbing and pulling at whatever they could reach. You watched from beside Miles, feeling a familiar throb in between your legs as precum spurted again from the slit of Miles’s cock and onto Ben’s belly. 

Ben huffed a laugh as he felt that sticky substance on his skin, “Okay, okay, won't keep you waiting any longer.” Miles' chest heaved up and down, eyes only leaving Ben for a second when you took his hand in yours. “You ready, baby?”

Miles had never nodded his head so fast before, “Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

You kept your gaze locked on Miles as Ben's dick hovered over his entrance, not taking your eyes off him when he shut his to brace for the stretch of Ben’s girthy member. 

You studied the beauty of Miles Miller coming undone. How his mouth opened slightly to whine, and how he bit down his lower lip to hold back an embarrassingly high-pitched whimper as Ben finally pushed inside. Tears of ecstasy escaped his iridescent blue eyes, and his lips glistened in the light, coated with his drool and your slick.

Ben's eyes twisted shut as Miles clenched tightly around him, keeping him close, “You feel amazing, so tight.”

After letting Miles get used to the feeling of being stretched wide, Ben finally tried moving. Miles gripped your hand, hissing as Ben pulled out, only to slam back into him. Miles cried out, the bedframe hitting the wall with a thud as Ben found his rhythm fast. 

With a mischievous smile, you started toying with Miles’s nipple, smiling wider when he moaned, squirming and clenching against Ben as you started rubbing his nub until it hardened. 

Miles whimpered through gritted teeth when you wrapped your lips around his nipple and sucked, “Oh my god! Ugh!” 

Not a single coherent sentence left Miles’s trembling lips as Ben hit his prostate dead on, and you sucked and nipped at his chest, just your name, Ben’s, and various “Oh my god!”s, “Please!”s, and “F-fuck, s-so good!”s leaving the man.

It wasn’t long before Miles cried out, his seed shooting out and spilling all over his chest, even reaching the bottom of his chin as the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced ran through him. Sobs wracked his body as he felt pure euphoria. 

You immediately soothed him, petting his hair and whispering words of praise and affection as the last of his cum spurted onto his tummy, “You did so good, Miles. S’good for us. Our good boy.” All Miles could do was whimper as you kissed his fallen tears over and over.

Ben was right behind him, grunting into Miles’s neck as his cum flooded the other man’s ass. He had nearly collapsed on top of Miles but caught himself before he could crush him with his body weight.

Ben pulled out and fell to the other side of Miles. Blindly, Miles reached behind him, searching. Ben intertwined his hand with his, pressing his chest against Miles’ back, "Beautiful. You felt so good, so beautiful. You were amazing, bud.”

Heavy breathing and the smell of sex filled the air as all three of you laid in bed together. You quickly cuddled into Miles chest, peppering his neck with light kisses as you watched him start to doze off.is eyes blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake, but the nerves and emotionally-charged conversation from earlier mixed with the most emotionally intense sex he’d ever had basically drained him off all energy.

You stroked his head, shifting up to give him better access to your chest. You held back a moan when Miles immediately latched onto your breast, his sleepy eyes staring up at you for a moment before they fluttered closed, open, and closed again.

Miles wanted to talk. He wanted to discuss next steps, what this meant. Was this just a fling, or something more? Was he meant to stay or get dressed and shamefully make his way back to his lonely cot in the lonely storage closet of the lonely hotel? But his mind could barely dwell on that, too fuzzy and comfortable with the feeling of your breast in his mouth and Ben’s stubble against his shoulder. Without even knowing, Miles fell asleep.

--

Miles wasn’t used to sleeping with another person. Miles had sexual partners in the past, but none that ever stayed long enough for him to wake up in their arms the next morning. Whether it be the sex worker who entertained him after she was done with her clients or his former dealer, who he used to trade drugs for sexual favors with. They all discarded him like yesterday’s trash after they’d gotten their fill.

It’s why when he woke up face-first in Ben' s solid chest, the author’s heart beating in his ears and your naked body pressed against his back, he didn’t know what to do. The comfortability of the environment was foreign to Miles. He felt so… safe. And that scared him.

Instinct made him panic. What if you weren’t expecting him to be here still? But the things you said last night, about wanting him… was it all just a ruse to get him in your bed? No, no you weren’t like that.

Before Miles could make a break for it and wiggle out of your hold, the arms wrapped around him gave him a gentle but firm squeeze. Blue eyes sleepily blinked down at him, before the author buried his nose in Miles’ hair, giving the top of his head a tiny, good morning peck before he snuggled the hotel clerk further.

Ben’s voice, rough and groggy, cut through the air, “Morning cuddles are the best part of the day.”

“Shut up,” You cut in, eyes closed as you pulled yourself impossibly closer to the wide eyed and no longer asleep hotel clerk, “Let me and Miles sleep.”

You yawned right at the end,and that’s when you finally opened your eyes.

Soft. That’s how Miles would describe you in the morning.

Your eyes were soft. Smile soft. Even the way your hand felt as you cupped his cheek was soft.

“You sleep, okay?”

Miles was going to say yes. Yes, he did sleep fine, how about you. Yes, yes, he slept better than he had in months, hell, years. But instead, he said:

“Did you mean it?”

You hummed, thumb still stroking his cheek, “Mean what?”

“L-last night. Y-you said you -”

Miles averted his gaze, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he felt like a bomb would go off in his chest if he finished the sentence. Ben tutted, cupping the other man’s cheek. Miles looked back up, vulnerable.

“Our feelings for you? Yes, without a doubt.”

“We meant every word, Miles.”

Miles sighed in relief, “Thank god.”

You moved to sit up, and Miles followed. He let out a little ‘oof’ when you suddenly straddled his lap. He opened his mouth to say something when you interrupted him with a kiss, “Do you,” You kissed him again, and Miles gasped against your lips as your exposed cunt rubbed right up against his twitching cock, “Have any guests checking in today?”

Miles shook his head, fighting the urge to pull you down and take you right in front of Ben, “N-no one’s on the books to come until Tuesday.”

“Good,” It’s Ben who spoke this time. The author leaned forward, chin resting on your shoulder as you shared a crooked smile with him, before turning to face the doe-eyed, red-faced hotel clerk, “Means we can have you all to ourselves then.”

And have him you did.

It would be hours until any of you left the bed that day. You explored each other’s bodies, learned what made Miles tick, what had him whimpering and begging for more, while Miles learned just how sensitive Ben’s nipples were and what it took to make you squirt.

Once you were near the brink of exhaustion, you finally stopped, collapsed onto one another as you basked in each other’s embrace. That’s when you asked the question. The question you and Ben had rehearsed over and over on how to ask, and the one Miles had been waiting to hear all night.

“Come with us. I know – we know – you have your own life here, but we don’t want to see you every so often, a few times a year. We want to wake up next to you every day and fall asleep with you every night. We know it might be too soon but -”

“Yes.”

You blinked, not expecting him to sound so sure. You thought Miles would need time to think, you were asking him to risk it all, leave his home and everything he knew. “R-really? Are you -”

Miles pulled you down and kissed you, his damp forehead pressing against yours as he muttered against your swollen lips, “Yes. No question about it. There's nothing for me here. I've been wanting to leave for so long, but never had any reason to, but you…” Ben reached up and wiped Miles’s teary eyes, “You’re reason enough.”

Never in his seven years, 10 months and 15 days of service here at the El Royale did Miles ever think he’d be able to escape the clutches of the wretched hotel. Escaping the rooms that brought him so much guilt as he remembered the people he helped blackmail, to break free of the lonely hallways he’d called home for so long. He chucked his orange blazer on the floor of the hotel lobby along with his name tag, not caring that the hotel would remain unmanned without him here. That was management's issue now, not his.

Now he was packed up in your car, his duffle and satchel nestled neatly between your suitcase and Ben's own duffle bag. The author was at the wheel, a boyish smile on his face as his hand squeezed the former hotel clerk’s thigh. You yawned and stretched out your arms like a cat before curling into Miles’s side, head tucked under his neck as you got ready for one of many road trip naps. The fit was a little snug in Ben's car, but it was comfortable enough.

“Here,” Ben tossed Miles the map from the glove compartment, “Mind being my navigator for the next couple of hours?”

Miles shook his head with a grin and opened it up, “Where we headed next?”

Ben smiled, “Well, while we may have found what we were missing in life in Nevada, or were we technically in California,” Miles blushed and smacked Ben’s shoulder, you sleepily mumbling for him to stop at the same time, “I still have to do some research.”

“I thought you said you found the inspiration you were looking for already?”

Ben ruffled Mile’s hair, while Miles just giggled before leaning his head against Ben’s shoulder, “We found what we were missing, but my book, that's a different story. And I figured no place better than to go home.”

Miles cocked a brow, “And where’s home exactly?”

Ben grimaced slightly, “Jerusalem’s Lot up in Maine. Haven’t been there since I was nine, and it’ll take us a couple days, but I have a feeling it’s the right place to be.”

Miles studied the map, his fingers gliding along the highway that'd take you all from here to Maine. There was so much of the country he called home he'd yet to explore, and now, despite the uncertainty, he could, and it was all thanks to you. With an emotional, but optimistic tone of voice, he put the map down and grabbed your hand with one and Ben's thigh with the other, “Well, let’s make the most of it, yeah?”

You squeezed Miles’s hand, nuzzling further into his side, “Yeah baby.”

Ben nodded, smirking as he pressed the button to turn the radio on, “You bet.”

Miles and his new partners in crime had no idea what was ahead of them. He was leaving everything he’s known for the past decade behind for a couple he’d known for less than four months, and slowly falling for ever since, but what was life without risk? It was time for him to take the leap and find out what life had in store for him, away from that little desolate hotel in the middle of nowhere. Now he could find his new home, with you both.

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