#lewships

Usually, you're more attentive during your weekly move nights. Cracking jokes, groaning at the characters' stupid decisions, or blinking back tears whenever a scene gets even the slightest bit emotional, but tonight you're quiet, in your own head. You don't even make a fuss or call Cleo, your cat, a traitor when she jumps from your lap to Bob’s. Something's definitely up with you.

At first, Bob thinks maybe you're missing Rocco. The alpha was barely home today, off with his buddies at the bar straight after work. While you spent your days helping stray cats and dogs at the animal shelter, Rocco spent most of his days under the hood of a car, covered in grease and oil as he fixed engines and did oil changes. Unwinding with a couple of cold ones at the bar wasn't atypical for the alphas' Friday nights, though, so it must be something else. 

You and Bob were the ones who pushed him to go out more after all. On Fridays, you and Bob watched movies, while Rocco got to hang out with his guys. Rocco often told Bob stories about how much of a loser he was before he met you, spending all his free time getting shitfaced with his friends until he found a cat off the side of the road and brought her to your shelter, falling for you the moment he laid eyes on you. That same cat he took to you was curled up in Bob's lap, purring as loud as a newly oiled car engine.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Huh?” You blink, no longer hypnotized by that spot in the wall like it was the most interesting thing on Earth. Bob nuzzles his nose into your cheek, wide, adoring eyes staring at you as he waits for you to answer. “Sorry. Yeah, just... just...” 

Bob raises his brow at you, curious. You sigh, leaning closer to him, seeking comfort. “Just work was rougher than usual…” Bob waits for you to continue, ignoring the movie still playing as he shifts his entire focus on you. “We got a litter of newborn kittens today and -” Bob perks up when he hears about the kittens, but then his face turns serious when your voice breaks. “But about half of them didn't make it and…” you sniffle, blinking back tears that are threatening to fall. 

Bob turns and hugs you instantly, trying to comfort you the best way he could, “I’m sorry, I know that must've been horrible. I don't know how you deal with it.” A small smile breaks through your frown when you feel Bob nosing at your gland, scenting you. He’s such an affectionate omega, always knows what to do to make you feel better, even a little. 

“Yeah, I don't know either.” Bob squeezes you tighter. He’s ready to ask if you want to just cuddle for the rest of the night. That he can stay up with you until Rocco comes home, it wouldn't be the first time your mate found the two of you in your room, burrowed together under the blankets. But before he can, you get up. Bob bites back a whine, not wanting you to go, but he doesn’t really have a good enough excuse for you to stay. “I actually think I'm gonna call it a night.”

Bob can’t help the disgruntled noise that comes out from the back of his throat. “But the movie’s barely even halfway through.”

You try to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. “Sorry, I know, I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

Bob deflates, but nods. You've obviously been through it today; it’s selfish of him to still want your company when you're obviously so drained. His face falls forward, hair covering his eyes as he mutters, “Oh, okay yeah, that’s okay. Understandable. I’m sorry, I was being selfish. I know you must want time to yourself, especially after today. Sorry.” 

“Hey,” You poke his cheek, and then poke it over and over again until he looks back at you. “You're not being selfish. You know I love our movie nights whenever it can be just us. No Rocco snoring in our ears fifteen minutes in, just not tonight.” 

That calms Bob down enough for him to settle back into his space on the couch, biting back a chuckle at your comment about your mate. Rocco is always the one to fall asleep 15 minutes into a movie. He says he's sorry. He tries to stay up, but the moment he gets too comfortable, all cozy and warm under the blankets with the both of you curled up at his sides, he’s snoring before the opening credits even roll in. Bob shrugs, trying to act nonchalant as he scratches Cleo behind her left ear, “It’s okay, I haven't really been paying attention anyway.” Because I was worried about you.

You stare at him, analyzing. In the three months Bob’s lived with you, you've come to know him better than the back of your hand. His little tics that show up whenever he’s annoyed or sad, and right now, you can tell he’s disappointed. If only you were that smart when it came to noticing his feelings for you. 

You ruffle his hair, chuckling when he lets out a ‘hey!’, but he doesn't attempt to push you back. Instead, he leans into your hand, very similar to how Cleo does when she wants pets, “Just a raincheck, yeah? Tomorrow we can watch two movies to make up for it.”

“Only if you choose the other one.”

“Deal.” 

Satisfied chirps erupt from the omega, who nuzzles your hand one last time before you leave, Cleo jumping from his lap to follow you out. The moment you’re out of sight, Bob flops down completely on the couch, stuffing his head into the pillow you were just using. Immediately, he sinks further into the couch. Your scent is so comforting, it’s almost like you’re still here, lying with him, holding him.

It isn’t long before the omega falls asleep like that, with his nose stuffed in your pillow. He isn’t paying attention to the movie now that you’re gone. His mind is full of you. Your smile, the thing he wishes he could see every morning he wakes up and every night he goes to bed, the warmth of your palm as you held him in your hands just moments ago, the way you said his name so softly as you bid him goodnight. With your name on his lips, sleep finally takes him.

---

The next time Bob's semi-conscious, instead of being on the couch, he’s moving, in the arms of the alpha who smells of leather and cigarettes. Bob sleepily whines, hands tightening around Rocco’s jacket. The alpha gently shushes him, turning his head slightly so he can reach down and press a comforting kiss on the top of the omega's head. “S’just me. Taking ya to bed.”

Bob can smell the alcohol in his breath, and it makes his nose scrunch up in disgust. Rocco sees it immediately. “Sorry, I was chewing some gum before I came home. I hoped that would take care of the smell.” Bob’s too tired to respond and just snuggles further into Rocco’s broad, warm chest. He can endure the smell if it means he gets to stay in Rocco's big, strong arms longer.

Gently, Rocco lays Bob down on his bed. His bed welcomes him back home with plush softness, his body melting into the cold comforter that immediately cools the warmth under his skin. Bob always ran hot, but he liked being wrapped up in some sort of blanket for comfort reasons; that’s why you got this specific one for him in the first place. Rocco makes sure the omegas' pillow is propped up just right so he doesn’t wake up with a busted neck before tucking him in.

Once he’s satisfied Bob's comfortable, he turns to leave, ready to slide into bed beside you and whisper about how adorable Bob looked when he found him cuddling your pillow on the couch as he slept and how much he liked seeing Bob wearing his shirt to bed. You and Rocco are practically head over heels for the omega, wishing nothing more than to officially add him to your relationship and pack, but you don't want him to feel forced into a situation. After learning about his past, it was the last thing you wanted to do. So you decided to love him from a distance, until, if ever, Bob made his feelings known.

Before Rocco can even step towards the door, a weak hand grabs his.

“Stay.”

That makes the alpha pause. The way Bob said that was so soft, almost vulnerable. Almost as if, even in his sleep-like state, he was still unsure whether he should ask. The alpha's pupils widen the longer he looks at Bob. So ethereal, so soft. With his head buried into a fluffy pillow, soft, lush blankets covering him. You know what, what's the harm? 

Rocco opens his mouth, ready to slide off his jacket and slide right beside him, but then Bob's hand falls, and quiet snores fill the room. Rocco lets out a chuckle, careful not to wake Bob, as he caresses his cheek. “Maybe next time, Robby.” He stays there for a minute longer, just watching as Bob's chest rises and falls, before quietly slipping out of the room, the door shutting behind him with an almost silent ‘click’.

---

Bob’s favorite time of the day with you two is weekend mornings. Bob likes to sleep in, often rolling out of bed just before ten. You two are always up before him thanks to Cleo. She wakes you two up at 7 am on the dot most days, meowing nonstop until you both get out of bed and head down to the kitchen to feed her. Cleo runs a very strict program around here when it comes to her food.

But this morning, neither you nor Rocco are outside to greet him. No good morning hug or affectionate kiss on the cheek before you ask him how he slept and whether he wants anything for breakfast. It was just Cleo, rubbing against his legs as she meowed at him.

Bob crosses his arms, pouting. This is so unlike you two. He kind of wants to go to your room and see what's up, but he refrains from intruding on you two. After what you told him about your day at work, maybe you just want a quiet morning.

After eating a quick bowl of cereal, Bob goes back to his room, bored out of his mind without you two to bug. He plays a game of solitaire, finishes reading the last couple of chapters of Little Women he had left, and plays with his feline companion for a while before she even gets bored without you two. It’s when he’s halfway through the first Lord of the Rings that one of you finally makes an appearance at his door.

Bob is lying on his bed, head propped up on a pillow, as he totally doesn't ogle Aragorn fighting off some orcs when he hears a knock at his door. Bob smells the alpha before he sees him. Rocco’s familiar scent of leather and cigarettes fills the omega's senses as he pokes his head in through the door.

“Hey.” The alpha smiles at Bob, but it isn’t a smile Bob was used to seeing on the alpha’s face. Not warm, not teasing, but apprehensive. Rocco stands in the doorway like he doesn’t know if he should come in or not. Even though the alpha let himself in last night to carry the omega to bed, this was still Bob’s space, and neither of you wanted him to feel like it wasn’t.

Bob lets out a curious chirp, noticing Rocco’s awkward body language, and pauses the movie to give the alpha his full attention. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing, just…” Rocco scratches the back of his head, looking like he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say, “Just um, here.” Rocco walks closer and hands Bob a wad of cash. At least a couple hundred, if not a thousand. “This is for you.”

The wad of cash feels so heavy in Bob's hands. Bob tilts his head to the side and frowns, “What is this for?”

“Just - uh - for you to get a hotel room for - uh - a couple days.”

The bundle of cash Bob was playing with freezes in his hands. The omega gulps, feeling his mouth dry up. He should’ve known this was going to happen; it was too good to be true. Nothing ever works out for him like he wants. “Are you kicking me out?”

Rocco’s eyes go wide, and he immediately starts shaking his head. He gets closer, sitting on the bed and holding the hand Bob didn’t have the cash in, “No! No, God no! Shit, that’s not what I – what we- it’s just – shit -” Rocco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. So much for being fucking head alpha. “We just need the house to ourselves for a couple of days, that’s all.”

That doesn’t stop the pit of anxiety in the omega's stomach from flaring. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Um… not exactly wrong just…” Rocco takes a minute before finally sighing. There was no way to beat around the bush; Bob was going to find out anyway when he came back home and smelled your arousal all over the house. “Her rut.”

Oh.

Oh.

Wait... you didn't -

“Her rut came earlier than we were expecting. We were gonna go away so you wouldn’t have to put up with the smell and sound, and just so you’d feel more comfortable. We didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in any way -”

Rocco keeps talking, but Bob isn’t listening.

You… wanted him to leave? You didn’t even think to ask him?

To not even ask him for help, to aid you during your rut, made him want to curl up in a ball and cry himself to sleep. It’s irrational, the disappointment. He shouldn’t be disappointed. He’s just some omega you two took pity on after seeing him in a bar one night. When you offered him a warm bed to sleep in and a roof over his head, Bob was skeptical.

He’d been on the street since he was a teen and had dealt with his fair share of creepy alphas and betas looking to take advantage of an omega in need, but after talking more with you both that night, he knew you weren’t like that. It didn't take long for the omega to find himself putting his complete trust in you both and, inevitably, falling for you.

Neither of you had had your rut, and he hadn’t had his heat since he’d been here. He knew it’d come up soon and hoped that when it did, you’d open your hearts and bed to him. And it’s not like Bob didn’t try.

He flirted with you both, and he really wasn't subtle about it. Batting his lashes at you, being touchier than just the usual friends were. He scented you before you left for work, asking for you both to scent him before he went off on his own to explore the city. Stealing your clothes is something you two expected at this point. Bob always had one of Rocco’s leather jackets or one of your pajama shirts around and wore them out and about and around the house. He did just about everything an omega ready for courting did, and you two chivalrous idiots didn’t do anything about it.

Bob knew you two liked him. Rocco’s alpha persona turned into a gooey, stuttering mess whenever Bob so much as praised his paintings, and Bob could hear how your heart skipped a beat when he cuddled up against you on the couch while you two waited up for Rocco to get home from the bar with his buddies. But he knew you two were too kind for your own good, always stressing about making sure Bob was comfortable. At first, he appreciated the sentiment, but now, the very sentiment that drew him to you, was cock blocking him.

But no, Bob wasn’t going to let this go. The Bob from six months ago would have just quietly accepted defeat, taken the money, and never pressed on. But Bob has grown since then. You and Rocco gave him the stability and companionship he’s never known, given him the space to grow and become his own, never holding his past or gender against him. Bob Reynolds was going to do something he’s never done before: stake his claim.

“And we just - Bob? Bob, are you okay?”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

That question makes Rocco pause, caught off guard by the tone in Bob’s voice. “Ask? What -”

“Why didn’t you ask if I wanted to join?” Before Rocco can even think of a response, Bob sputters out, “I know you two like me, Ro. Now I’m asking again, why didn’t you ask me?”

Eyes wide, Rocco stutters. This was the last reaction he was expecting to get from the omega, “We- we didn’t want you to feel - You don’t have to do this to stay here.”

Bob can’t help but roll his eyes. Does he have to take Rocco by the shoulders and shake him as he yells, ‘I KNOW THAT YOU IDIOT JESUS CHRIST’ or what?

“Well, we know there’s a… shit, what did she call it? A… a power imbalance. You know with us taking you in and we uh, we didn’t want -” With a sigh and roll of his eyes, Bob cuts him off with a kiss.  Rocco immediately kisses him back, one arm wrapping around the omega’s waist and one hand cupping his cheek, holding him.

Bob pulls back first, face hot and lips red, “Enough with the chivalry. I know you two aren’t letting me stay here for a fuck. Now, let me take care of her; she’s been waiting long enough for you, right?”

With one nod from the alpha, Bob tosses the bundle of cash out of his hand, not watching as it rolls out onto the bed, and walks out, dragging a flustered Rocco behind him. It takes them less than 15 seconds to march down the hallways to your room, the scent of your arousal getting stronger the closer they get.

When Bob opens your door, he nearly stumbles to the floor when the scent of your rut hits him at full force. Your vanilla bean scent is usually light and subtle, which is unusual for an alpha, but during your rut, it seems to be dialed up to the max, overpowering any other scent in the room.

You’re not quite naked, still wearing your underwear and one of Rocco’s oversized shirts. Your skin glistens with sweat as you hump one of your pillows, your face stuffed in a sweater and – wait. That’s his sweater. Bob’s sweater. The one he thought he lost a week ago. You had it. And you were using it to get off on his scent.

“Ro? Ro-” You gasp, stopping whatever you were doing and getting off the bed when you see it’s Bob at the door. “Bob!? What are you -” You stop again when you see Rocco behind him, your mate looking disheveled and half scared at the tone in your voice. “Rocco, what the hell is he doing here? Bob, you gotta go-”

He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his cheek, “No.”

You don’t have it in you to pull away. It takes all your control as it is to not pounce on Bob and stuff him full of your cock. “Bob, this is not the time. My rut is – Oh god shit, it’s picking up fast – Bob, you just gotta go sweetie, for a couple days -”

“No, I already talked to Ro; I’m staying.” Not wanting to go through the same conversation he just had with Rocco- which he can tell is where it’s going based on that look on your face- Bob decides to stop the conversation and just fast-forward to the kissing part of your night.

“Let me help,” he whispers against your lips, “I want you. Ro said you wanted to send me away, but please don’t; let me take care of you…”

“Oh Bob...” You shudder, composure melting away as you’re hit with the soft, plush feeling of his lips on yours. The kiss starts off slow, curious. Your hands hover above his hips, not sure where they should go, but Bob answers that for you, keeping his mouth on you as he pulls your wrists, putting one hand on his hips and the other on his ass. You squeeze his cheek, not even meaning to; it was just instinctive, and clutch him tight. Bob moans into your mouth, rutting his hip against you. 

The energy in the room shifts after that. Maybe because your rut finally kicks in at full steam, or maybe because the longer Bob kisses you, the stronger the scent of his arousal is. That intimate, curious kiss turns crazed and desperate. Your teeth graze along Bob's chapped lips, pulling at his bottom lip. The little whimper that leaves him makes you grab him by the waist and pull him to the bed, your mind frenzied with want.

“Alpha…” Bob whines so sweetly when you press him against the bed and climb on top of him, scenting his neck and running your hands down the bottom of his shirt, lifting it over his head. Rocco finally acts when he sees that, sliding Bob's bottoms off in quick succession before stripping down to nothing himself. Rocco’s tempted to start lapping at his pussy, to be greedy and finally get a taste of the omega he’s been thinking about since you met him. His lips are already shimmering with slick, practically begging to be touched. And as much as Rocco wants to, he knows you need it more than him right now.

“Sweetheart…” You pull away from Bob, eyes full of fire and desire, “Come here. It’s your rut; you should get your turn with him first.” Rocco doesn’t have to tell you that twice.

You quickly switch places, and when you finally feast your eyes on his pussy, you want to drive forward and spear him on your cock, but you still want to play with him a little, at least while your mind’s still somewhat clear. Your hand glides down to his lips, goosebumps littering the omega's flesh as you do. Bob’s so wet, there's no tightness at all as your finger practically slides in him. Bob's hips jolt up, giving you the perfect opportunity to lean down and engulf his cute little clit between your lips before adding in another finger. The noise he lets out is delicious enough to send any alpha into an animalistic rut.

Rocco cups his cheeks with both hands and nuzzles their noses together. Wet lips attack Bob's jaw, leaving a trail of saliva as Rocco kisses up and down his jaw and cheek, before finally landing on his lips. Rocco dominates the kiss, tongue exploring every crevice of Bob's mouth as he drinks him in with every breath. And then, Rocco pulls away. 

Bob nearly hisses, ready to pull Rocco’s tongue back in his mouth, but then his jaw drops the moment Rocco moves, and he’s eye to eye with Rocco’s cock. It’s standing up against his stomach, hard and leaking precum, begging to be nestled deep in the omega's throat. Bob's reaction makes the alpha chuckle. It almost reminds him of yours the first time you two fucked. “Like what you see, Robby?”

The stupidly horny omega doesn’t even have the brain cells to say yes; Bob just looks at him with those pleading blue eyes, begging for a taste, and who’s Rocco to deny the pretty little thing what he so desires?

Bob moans as the head of Rocco’s cock brushes against his lips. He can’t help but press light kisses against the tip, sending shivers down the alpha’s spine. Rocco’s hands wrap around the back of Bob's head as he shoves half of his cock in Bob’s inviting mouth.

If Bob were religious, he’d be praying to the almighty right now for giving him the ability to suck cock with no gag reflex. You and Rocco are big. Like… really big. He knew you were, but seeing your cocks up close sent a gush of slick down his thighs, like he was no better than an omega in heat. His measly 3-inch cock is nothing compared to yours, and he couldn’t wait to feel you both stretch him open.

“You know how many times she’s come from thinking of you? We both have. Starts thinking about your pretty pussy wrapped around our cocks, and she just goes buck wild.”

You stop your attack on the omega’s clit, coming up for air to chastise your mate, “Rocco!”

The alpha chuckles, pulling his dick out of Bob's mouth to smear some precum on his lips before thrusting back in, “No reason to be embarrassed, sweetheart; m’sure Robby’s done the same, haven’t you, darling?”

All you two get is a choked groan, Bob’s response drowned out by Rocco thrusting himself further down the omega's throat.

Your exploration of Bob's body leads you from his clit to his little cocklet. It’s so small you could probably sit the whole thing in your mouth, and it wouldn’t even make you gag. But that’s not the part of him that’s got your full attention tonight: “God, that’s a pretty little pussy. M’ gonna go in okay, baby? You like the sound of that, Robby? Want me to fuck you on my cock?”

His gurgling and slight nod of his head is all the answer you need. In one fell swoop, you thrust your hips forward, your dick welcomed home in Bob's wet, soapy cunt.

Grunts and the smell of sweet arousal fill the room. Bob gets so lost in the feeling between the two of you, filling him up. You quickly find your rhythm. Every thrust is timed perfectly to send Bob into a haze, as his mind turns to mush. He can feel the buildup in his stomach pretty quickly, but he doesn’t want it to end so fast. Even though he knows you’ll be fucking for all hours of the day for the next three days, he needs his first time cuming to be on both of your cocks

He slides off Rococo cock with a wet pop. A string of saliva and precum connects the two of them until Rocco wipes it away with his thumb, eyes full of concern as Bob heaves out, “No, no, wait.”

You start to pull out, to check on him, but Bob doesn't let you, wrapping his legs around your waist to keep you inside him. “Hey baby,” Rocco holds his face in his hands, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Not yet. I- I don’t want to cum yet.”

“Okay sweetheart, we can go slower -”

“No – I just - I want both of you. Inside, at the same time.” Rocco is already shaking his head, but Bob’s not going down without a fight. “Please! I can take it”

Calloused hands turn the omega's head to the side, Rocco’s blue eyes laced with concern, “Robby… we do. Believe me that image is…” he shakes his head, feeling his dick throb at the idea of Bob filled the brim with both of your cock, “We don’t want to break you -”

“You won’t!” Bob cuts in, frantic. “I promise.” His cheeks flush a cherry red, neck on fire as he admits, “I’ve been… um… practicing…”

It takes a full fifteen seconds before it clicks for you two. The surprise lasts less than a second before you chuckle, shaking your head at him, “Omega, omega, omega.” Bob blushes harder, trying to hide away from your gushing, “You’re truly adorable, you know that?”

A lighthearted swat makes you grin even wider. Rocco cocks a brow at him. “Oh yeah? With what?”

“Um… uh - Ah!” Bob gasps, throwing his head back as he feels Rocco’s finger slide up beside your cock, stretching him more. If Bob thought he felt full just with your cock, he’s not ready for what’s to come. 

You let out a shaky moan, thrusting up further into the omega when you feel Rocco’s girthy fingers against you. Rocco's chest blooms with pride at the sound, his mate and omega both barely holding on by just his fingers. “Come on, Robby,” Rocco coos, smirking as his finger curls to the right, eliciting a choked gasp from the omega between you two. “Tell us, what did you use to stretch your little pussy open while thinking of us?”

Bob moans, head falling between the crook of your neck when Rocco adds in another finger and begins to scissor him open. “Um, my uh, I have two dildos, one i-is si-six inches and the other is – ugh, um, twelve inches, I- Ah! I’d try them, uhhh, at the same time…”

The smirk on Rocco's face grows wider and wider with every word that stutters from the trembling omega's lips. Rocco stretches him open for a little longer, curling his fingers every couple of seconds before Bob could get used to the stretch, dragging his nails along his velvety walls whenever his breath almost evened out. Once you both deem him ready, Rocco pulls his fingers out.

Bob whines at the loss, making grabby hands at Rocco, wanting, no, needing him back in. The alpha chuckles and brings his glistening fingers to Bob's mouth. Bob doesn't hesitate, his tongue darting out to lick up every last bit of his slick, like it was a forbidden nectar he’s been dying to taste. Finally, Rocco pulls back and aligns his cock next to yours, “Alright, I’m gonna go in slow, just breathe for me Bob, just breathe.”

Bob nods, gripping onto you tighter and hiding his face deeper into the crook of your neck as he braces for impact. You lift Bob off your cock a little to give Rocco room, and once the head of his cock forces its way in, you slowly let gravity take control.

The stretch is unlike anything Bob's ever felt before. Yeah, he’s fucked his fair share of alphas before, but never like this. Even the toys he played with didn’t stretch him like this. Didn’t fill him so deep. He feels like he’s being split in two, like he’ll be lucky if he can ever walk again after this, but really, he’ll take the injury day in and day out if it means he can always feel this. This satisfaction, this pleasurable bliss.

You are barely holding on. You have to bite down on your lip to not start bucking wildly into Bob once you feel Rocco’s cock slide in. In all your time as a mated pair, neither of you have experienced this before. Never have you invited another into your bed, especially not like this. Despite the dirty, sinful act, it was also the most intimate form of affection you could show each other. Complete and utter trust in your mate and the stretched-out omega between you. And you fight like hell against instinct so you don't break him before the fun truly begins.

Tongue lolling out of his mouth and drool dripping down his chin, Bob pants like a dog in heat when you’re both fully sheathed inside him. Yours and Rocco’s dick are nestled tightly together between Bob's stretched-out lips.

You all take a moment to compose yourselves, getting used to the tight, stuffed feeling of Bob's throbbing, warm pussy. Bob nearly cums when he looks down at himself. His usually slim stomach is bulging; the outline of yours and Rocco’s monster alpha cocks is clear as day. Rocco kisses his cheek nonstop, murmuring words of encouragement as the omega squirms in his hold.

The moment you start thrusting, Bob sees stars. You take turns; when you slide out, Rocco slides in and vice versa. A perfect, delicate rhythm. But then, the pleasure gets to you all. Slow, gentle thrusts turn frantic and wild, both you and your mate chasing ecstasy as the omega unravels between you.

You pepper the side of his face closer to you with kisses, the taste of salt coating your tongue as you lick up his fallen tears. Bob looks especially delectable with his face all wet from sweat and tears from being pounded by your cocks, “Look at you, being so good for us, taking us so well.”

Rocco nips at his ear when he feels Bob try to clench around you both, but he’s stretched so wide, it barely does anything. “What a needy little omega you are; couldn’t even wait for us to take turns.”

Bob cries, nodding his head, “N-needed you! H-had to have you both, I-I couldn’t -” the rest of the words get lost in a high-pitched mewl when Rocco’s hand comes down and starts playing with Bob's swollen clit.

“Ro!” Bob gasps out your name next, face flushed pretty pink as he feels both your knots swelling. With one last choked cry of both your names, he sees white, slick gushing out between his thighs and wetting both your dicks. Bob’s dead weight between you two as you continue to sloppily thrust into him

Instinct is screaming at you to mark the omega who’s nearly passed out on your cock, and Rocco notices. The way you nose at Bob’s neck, nip at the omega's shoulder, and lick your lips like you couldn’t wait to devour your meal as you stare at his neck. Right when you’re about to cum, he sticks his arm between your lips and without even needing to think twice, you bite.

An involuntary whimper leaves Bob as both your knots catch on his pussy, flooding him with your seed. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, little whines and shaky breaths leaving him as he gets used to being more filled than ever before.

Bob passes out on your cocks. The emotional and physical extremities too much for him. Protectively, your hand draws circles around his bloated stomach, mind close to feral the longer you scent him. You’ve got a potential mate defenseless, passed out, and full of you; every sound your hyper senses pick up makes low, territorial growls leave you.

The next time Bob wakes up, it’s to Rocco’s moans in his ears as you thrust into the alpha, making him push his dick further into Bob. You go at it for hours, taking turns fucking them both. Rocco’s grateful to Bob to no end for being able to handle you for longer than he ever could.

Whenever either of your ruts would hit, you could only keep up with each other for so long. Your alpha bodies are not made to withstand and bounce back as easily as an omega's during an alpha's rut. So as Bob lies on his stomach, little “uhs” leaving him as you pounded him into the bed, Rocco took his hand, brought it to his lips, a silent thanks to the omega. All Bob does to show he understands Rocco’s thanks is his fingers twitching in the alpha’s hand.

It takes two days for your rut to finally break.

The three of you are a messy pile of limbs on the bed. Rocco’s asleep on his side with one arm thrown over Bob's back. Bob's on his stomach, face down in a pillow with one knee pointed out to give relief to his hips since you bent him in ways he never thought his body could bend before. You fell asleep almost halfway on top of Bob, your cheek nuzzled comfortably into his back.

You wake up first, groaning when you try to stretch your legs and are greeted with your muscles screaming at you in retaliation. Fucking for days nonstop is a workout after all, especially when you’re the one topping.

Awe fills your chest the moment you turn your head to the side and see Bob and Rocco. You could get used to seeing this every morning and night. You shift again, reaching for your phone to try and get a picture of your two sleeping lovers, but it looks like one of them isn’t as asleep as you thought.

Bob whimpers, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “Stay.”

Rocco stirs awake at his whimper, alert and ready to go help when he hears the omega in distress. But once he sees it’s just you two, he relaxes. Rocco’s a man of few words in the morning, so he just grunts in 'good morning', watching you.

Your fingers run through Bob's curly hair, brushing it out of his eyes as you reassure him, “M’not going anywhere, baby, promise.”

That satisfies the omega enough, it seems, but just when he’s getting comfortable again, he feels you tense, and Bob doesn’t like that at all. He noses at your cheek, frowning, “What?”

You shake your head, “Nothing, nothing, it’s fine, just…” Bob nods for you to go on, waiting patiently for you to find the right words. “Just, we still don’t want you to feel stuck here. That money is still yours, for you, so that if anything happens, you can have something to fall back on. Money we can’t touch and-”

A tongue in your mouth interrupts your rambling. Bob crawls into your lap, lips not leaving yours until you’re left flustered and tongue-tied, completely forgetting about what you were trying to say just moments ago.

Bob grins, delighted to have rendered you speechless once again. “Cute to think you can ever get rid of me.” That grin grows wider when you shy away from him; Rocco can’t help but laugh before asking where his kiss was. And who was Bob to deny him that?

This is what you and Rocco have been waiting for. The opportunity to finally start growing your pack. Bob was basically already part of it, but now it’s official. Before you know it, your pack will have more members than ever thought possible, but for now, you rest. This is only the beginning for you three; time to enjoy the quiet now while it lasts before a certain beta with a golden chain and wild eyes wrestles his way into your hearts next.

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Rhett had taken a temporary job with a local cattle ranch, and he had been offered a generous sum of money to travel to their second operation over in Montana and fill in during a cattle drive, because the ranch was short-handed. 

It had taken him away for nearly a month, leaving Miles to hold down the fort at home. He had his own responsibilities to tend to. His quilting business kept him busy, and he’d been selling baked goods at the farmer’s market on the weekends. There were many things to occupy his time, but even as he stayed busy, he continued to think about how much he missed his Rhett. 

Usually, on market days, Rhett would be there with Miles, selling small, intricate figurines he had whittled out of wood. The Abbott-Miller booth was a popular one. Miles’ baked goods always sold out, Rhett’s wooden figures were always in high demand. And people loved the men responsible for creating the goods. The sweet, mild-mannered young man with the mysterious scars that decorated the left side of his face. The stoic cowboy who looked at that young man as if he’d hung the stars in the sky. 

The elderly ladies that frequented the booth were the sweetest. And when Rhett suddenly stopped showing up to run the booth alongside Miles, they grew concerned. 

“Where is that handsome husband of yours?” Asked Melinda, the kind old woman who was no bigger than five foot one, who always showed up early to snag Miles’ sourdough loaves before they sold out. Cranberry orange and jalapeño cheddar were her favorite. 

“Oh, Rhett had to go out of town for work. He’ll be back soon!” Miles explained, as he handed her the individually wrapped loaves, branded with a sticker that read Rodeo Royale Baked Goods. 

“Well you tell him I missed him! He needs to hurry on home, you look lost without him, you poor dear.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile softly at her, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. “I’ll tell him. It’s definitely not the same without him here,” came his honest reply. 

Their banter continued for a moment more, before Melinda soon moved on to another booth and the next customer stepped up to browse. Miles couldn’t hide his joy. How far he’d come, in the years since he’d first met his husband. From having spent so long keeping his attraction to men a secret, for fear of judgment from both God and man, to now living without fear, proud to show off his relationship. 

Rhett had changed his life for the better. Miles would sing that from the rooftops to anyone who would listen. 

Now that he was gone, albeit just for a few weeks, Miles felt like a limb was missing. He and Rhett worked together in all things. It was just how they operated best. Around the homestead, they usually weren’t far from one another. Rhett in the stable, feeding the horses. Miles at the adjacent chicken coop, feeding the chickens. Miles tending the garden, Rhett mending the corral fence a few feet away. 

Always in each other’s orbit, gravitating toward one another, both intentionally and unintentionally. 

Of course, Miles still functioned just fine without him. He could take care of their homestead and keep up with everything that needed done, but it still wasn’t the same without his cowboy. His company as of late had been their farm animals, and his elderly cat Matilda, who followed him around meowing up a storm, as if she knew he needed some company.

Some days, Miles would drive over to the Abbott ranch, where he would enjoy a morning cup of coffee, along with a slice of homemade bread and fresh jam, on the porch with Cecilia. He had developed a sweet bond with his mother-in-law, something he’d never had with his own mother. It was incredibly healing for him. 

But even as he filled his days with activity and family visits, there was always that ache in his heart, that longing for Rhett’s return. And now, finally, he was coming home. 

Miles had been bustling around all day. Baking Rhett’s favorite apple pie, preparing a slow simmering stew, ensuring the chores were done so he wouldn’t have to worry about them when he came home. Cleaning the house from top to bottom, fluffing the pillows on the bed, anything and everything to keep his mind occupied. 

There was only so much he could do. With the pie cooling on the window sill, the floors swept, the house in tip-top shape, he was left with nothing else to distract himself with. So he curled up on the couch with a book. Matilda climbed into his lap, letting out one of her raspy little meows. 

“Hey, old bird,” Miles cooed, reaching up to scratch her head. She chirped at him, curling up on his lap, where she proceeded to begin making biscuits against his thigh. His heart warmed at the sight, book set to the side in favor of showering the kitty in attention. 

“You just as excited for Daddy to come home as I am?” He asked. She pushed her head more insistently into his hand as if to say yes. 

Matilda loved Rhett, her favorite pastime being flopping down at his feet every time he walked, nearly causing him to trip. Miles couldn’t blame the old gal, he too would drop to Rhett’s feet constantly if he could. 

Matilda had been in their lives for three years. Surrendered to Wabang’s only animal shelter because her aging owner could no longer care for her, Miles met her when he volunteered at the shelter for a special adoption event. No one wanted the scraggly looking elderly cat with health issues and missing teeth. 

The poor thing was curled into the corner of her kennel, frightened and confused. It was only natural that Miles would be drawn to her. In a way, he saw himself in her. Scared, alone, traumatized. After all, that was how Rhett found him at the El Royale, what seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Miles believed himself to be a lost cause. But Rhett saw something in him. Something worth saving. And that was what Miles saw when he looked upon that scared little cat. 

He adopted her that day. It didn’t take much convincing. All he had to do was turn to Rhett and look at him with his big, wet eyes, and the cowboy was giving in with a soft sigh. 

“You and your bleedin’ heart,” he fondly murmured. 

Since then, Matilda had become a source of joy for both men. She was Miles’ partner in crime, and she had quite the affinity for Rhett. When she wasn’t flopping down at his feet, she was curling up on his shoulder when he sat on the couch. 

She had felt his absence just as much as Miles had. The household just wasn’t the same without Rhett. 

Meanwhile, not far from home, Rhett was feeling that same loneliness, and sense of anticipation. He’d just crossed the Wyoming state line, and in just sixty minutes, he would be reunited with his love. He hadn’t expected to be gone for an entire month, but that was how things unfolded. 

He’d never been apart from Miles for that long, and it was torturous. He felt like one half of a whole, a missing puzzle piece. And sleeping had been hell, because he was so used to sleeping with Miles’ head resting upon his chest. To sleep in an uncomfortable bunk, in a bunkhouse full of crude cowboys, for an entire month had been miserable. 

The guys were nice enough, and he’d made friends with most of them. But after living with a group of men, Rhett had come to deeply appreciate his Miles, even more so than he already did. Rhett wasn’t necessarily intuitive when it came to cleaning and neatness. But he had gotten much better about it since Miles had come into his life.

Miles was extremely neat and regimented. He did all the laundry, folded the clothes a specific way, made the bed exactly the way he’d been expected to make his bunk in the military. He preferred all his products to be lined up a specific way in the bathroom. That was partly a compulsive tendency, and partly military training. Everything was clean and neat and in its place.

Of course, Miles didn’t expect Rhett to be exactly like that. But he had shown him how he preferred to keep things, how to be neat and organized. It wasn’t that Rhett was careless, it was simply that he wasn’t taught. His mother hadn’t spent as much time emphasizing those things. He was clean, but he wasn’t organized. 

Miles had certainly rubbed off on him in the time that they had been together. He’d gotten so used to the neatness, the order, that living in a bunkhouse full of men who generally weren’t neat and orderly was a bit of a rude awakening. 

Oh, how eager he was to go home, and sleep in a bed of crisp linen sheets, freshly laundered, smelling of the pine scented gentle detergent that Miles used. The cottage, a cozy little fixer-upper that Rhett and Miles had worked hard to remodel, would smell earthy and sweet, thanks to the essential oil diffusers (filled with cat-safe oils, of course) that Miles kept running throughout the house. 

It was comforting. It was home. It was everything he could ever dream of having. 

And the closer he got, with each passing road sign that pointed toward Wabang, the more giddy he felt. Because he had a surprise for Miles. In his time away, Rhett had decided to let his beard grow out. Partly because he’d forgotten to pack razors, and because he just couldn’t be bothered to care. He kept it neat with an electric razor lent to him by one of the guys he worked with, but otherwise let it continue to grow.

He’d never sported a beard before, so he wasn’t sure what Miles would think. His husband had always loved his stubble, said it gave him a more rugged look. Would he like a beard just as much? There was only one way to find out. 

He’d purposely avoided video calling Miles, citing bad reception, which was actually true, as he had to drive to a spot all the way outside the ranch just to get enough bars of service for their nightly phone call. But it had worked out in his favor, because it allowed him to keep his newly grown facial hair a secret. 

In his head, he’d gone over the different ways Miles might react. Either he would love it, or he would gently tell Rhett that he needed to shave it. Rhett wasn’t attached to the beard, so he would shave it with no problem, if that was what Miles wanted.

However, he didn’t anticipate just how much his husband would love it. To the point where he would forbid him from shaving at all. 

The hour drive through Wyoming felt like days, a slow form of torture as he continued to glance at the clock on the truck dash, watching time drag on like sand in an hourglass. So close, yet so far. 

Never again would he spend so long apart from his love. The only other time they had been forced to be apart was then. The night Rhett had nearly lost Miles. A whirlwind of terror, confusion, and chaos. Forced apart by strange and impossible circumstances. Rhett had to fight tooth and nail just to get back to Miles, to save him, to keep him alive. 

This time, being apart had not been forced. They had not been taken from each other, their lives had not been threatened. Rhett willingly left to do what he felt was necessary to ensure their financial security. And Miles, though sad to see him go, had encouraged it. 

“It’ll be a good experience for you,” he’d assured Rhett. “I think you should go.”

So he did. But oh, what a relief it was to return. And he knew in his heart that no matter how much money was involved, he wouldn’t leave, not unless Miles could come with him. 

What a major step it had been for Rhett to admit that he needed someone. Not in the way of codependency, or in the way that he was incapable of being by himself. But in the way that his life wasn’t the same without Miles, that he didn’t want to imagine a world where his sweetheart with the soft blue eyes and the honey colored curls wasn’t there.

And in the way that Rhett had spent so many years on his own, thinking he was unlovable, undesirable. That no woman would ever want him, because what did he bring to the table? A couple of DUIs? A fucked up shoulder and an alcohol problem? A dangerous career that could end with him paralyzed, or worse?

He certainly couldn’t entertain the thought of being with a man, either. More so because of his own insecurity and fear than anything else. He didn’t think his family would shun him for it, but he did worry about what the townsfolk would say. What his mother’s church, who was so staunchly against homosexuality, might say. 

And then, there was that fear of being treated differently by fellow bull riders. In a more “masculine” sport, he worried about being seen as less than a man. Now, he knew how foolish he had been. But back then, as a sheltered, small town ranch boy, he didn’t know anything different. Navigating his sexuality was a scary thing. In some ways it was easier not to acknowledge it. To pretend like his attraction to men simply didn’t exist.

And then he was thrown through a black hole that brought him tumbling headfirst into the lobby of Miles’ hotel, and everything changed. It was easy to deny his sexuality when there was no man to place his affections upon.

Meeting Miles changed everything. During that time at the El Royale, no matter how short-lived it was, it felt as if they were the only two men left on earth. And what followed was an intense love story, one that Rhett still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around.

Somehow, despite all the adversity they had endured together, they had been given a second chance. Since then, Rhett had promised himself he would never live ashamed of his sexuality again. 

It had taken longer for Miles to come to terms with his own identity, rooted deeply in religious guilt and trauma, not to mention his upbringing, that took place during a time in history that was so much different from Rhett’s. But Miles had come a long way, in his journey of accepting himself. After coming within a hair’s width of death, his perspective had changed greatly. 

Almost seven years after that harrowing night at the hotel, they had put all that pain behind them. They wore the proof of their love, of their commitment to one another, on their ring fingers. Rhett could hardly believe, after so many years of repressing his true self, that he was now married to another man. What a milestone he had crossed, the day he said “I do” in the middle of Wabang City Hall. 

And thus, they had become Rhett and Miles Abbott-Miller.

Now, Rhett was pulling into the driveway of the very home he shared with his husband. Their forever home. And as he took in the familiar, comforting sight of their little slice of heaven, he couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through his chest. 

He was where he was always meant to be. What a privilege to return to the homestead he had built with Miles. In the waning light of day, the chickens frolicked about near their coop. The horses grazed in their pasture. The goats played in their pen. 

A domestic scene, one that stole Rhett’s breath away as he pulled the old GMC Sierra to a stop. This was where he belonged. Where the other half of his heart resided. 

Inside the cozy cabin, Miles, who had managed to get into a chapter of his book, perked up at the sound of an approaching engine. With a soft gasp, his nimble fingers shoved the bookmark between the book’s yellowed pages, casting it aside on the oak coffee table beside him. 

“Daddy’s home, Tils!” Came his exclamation to his cat. 

“Mrow,” she said. 

Quick as a flash, Miles jumped up from the couch, shoving his feet into his house slippers. The orthopedic kind, so his feet wouldn’t ache from walking on the cottage’s hardwood floors all day. Matilda was hot on his heels as he made his way to the front door. 

Through the window, he could see Rhett’s truck coming to a stop, and a jolt of sheer and utter elation rippled through him. He’s home. 

Without a second thought, Miles flung the door open, uncaring that he was wearing his inside shoes outside. That was a problem he would sort out later, solved by taking a few disinfectant wipes to the soles of the slippers. 

From this angle, he couldn’t see Rhett’s face as he climbed out of the truck and went around the side to grab his duffel. Rhett kept his head down, almost as if purposely shielding it from Miles’ view. And, essentially, that was what he was doing. 

Rhett could hardly contain his smile at the sound of Miles’ rushed footsteps, coming closer and closer. “You’re home!” A sweet exclamation that hit Rhett directly in the heart, warming him from the inside out. 

Duffel slung over his shoulder, Rhett turned to face his husband, revealing what he had so sneakily been concealing for so long. 

The new addition to his face went momentarily unnoticed as Miles launched himself forward, straight into Rhett’s arms, the force so sudden it knocked the baseball cap off Rhett’s head. “Oh, I missed you so much!” 

Rhett caught him with ease, joy washing over him in waves, big arms wrapping around Miles’ smaller frame, holding him tight against his chest. He didn’t expect the wave of emotion that hit him, but it gripped him in an instant, eyes welling with tears. “Missed you too, bub,” came his whisper, fracturing around the edges. 

Miles buried his face against Rhett’s chest and breathed in deep. Earth, the peppery edge of cologne, and that natural, addicting musk that could only be described as Rhett. 

When Miles pulled back, searching for a kiss, he froze, eyes going wide as saucers as he gasped, “Oh! Oh my gosh, you grew a beard!”

Rhett couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, crow’s feet deepening around his eyes. “Yeah! What d’ya think?” He stepped back slightly to give Miles a better look.

The look in Miles’ eyes, shimmery and full of wonder, reminded Rhett so much of the way he had looked up at him on the day they got married, as Rhett slid a ring onto Miles’ slender finger. 

“Wow,” Miles breathed, hands lifting so he could tentatively run his fingers through the beard. It wasn’t too long, nor was it too short. It was just right. And oh, how it made him weak in the knees. 

The addition of facial hair made Rhett look so much more rugged. Strong and masculine, as if he had been away in the wilderness for weeks, hunting for food to bring back to his sweet little wife. Who, in this case, was Miles. 

“I’m guessing that means you like it?” Rhett asked, still smiling, though a bit uncertain.

“Like it?!” Miles’ blunt nails gently scratched at the beard. “I’m speechless! Honey, you look…just…wow!” He dove forward again, mouth connecting with Rhett’s. It only took the cowboy a moment to regain his composure, large hands coming to rest upon Miles’ narrow waist as he melted into the kiss.

Rhett’s mustache bit against Miles’ soft upper lip, not necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, but a reminder that it was there. Miles couldn’t help it. He whimpered softly against Rhett’s mouth, body pressed firmly against him, fingers clutching at the collar of his button down.

When they parted, they were both breathless. Miles’ gaze went a little unfocused. His cheeks warmed pink. “Uh, s-sorry. I kinda lost my composure there for a second,” he murmured.

A mischievous glint shone in Rhett’s eyes as he smiled again. “Shit, you really like it, huh darlin’?”

“Well, yeah. How could I not? I don’t see you for almost an entire month and then you show up looking like a mountain man? I mean, good grief! I have half a mind to just drop right here and ride you in the middle of the driveway.”

At that, Rhett sputtered out a laugh, the tips of his ears turning red. “Well damn, here I was thinkin’ I was coming home to my sweet little husband. Didn’t know I was actually coming home to a feral little beast instead.”

Miles shook his head, not at all sheepish. Why should he be ashamed of his attraction to his man? “I can’t help it, you make me feral. Especially with a beard.”

Regaining some of his composure, Rhett ducked forward, nuzzling against Miles’ cheek. At that, he giggled, shrugging away from the scratchiness. “Stop! Don’t you start terrorizing me!”

“Oh? But I thought you liked the beard?” He moved to rub his face against Miles again, but the other man slipped out of his arms. 

“I do, but first we’re putting some conditioner on it so it’s not as rough! Then you can rub it against me all you want!” 

“But I wanna rub it against you now.”

Miles dashed toward the house, quick on his feet, but Rhett was right behind him, duffel bag tossed aside as his long arms reached out to catch Miles by the waist. Laughing like school children, they stumbled over each other, landing in the grass in a heap.

“Stop! You monster! Let me go!” Miles squealed, shoving at Rhett’s broad chest. Certainly strong enough to fully push him off if he wanted, but not trying in the slightest.

Rhett grabbed onto Miles’ wrists, pinning them to the ground above his head. “What’re you gonna do now, huh li’l mouse? Can’t stop me from rubbin’ my beard all over that cute face of yours, now, can you?”

“No! Rhett!” Miles cried, despite the giggles flowing out of him.

Rhett shoved his face against Miles’, rubbing that scratchy beard all over his blushing cheeks. That drew the sound of the beautiful belly laugh that Rhett adored so much, the kind that shook through Miles’ entire body and bubbled out of him in a way that seemed almost painful, though it was the furthest thing from it. 

“Okay! Okay! You’ve made your point!”

At that, Rhett lifted his head so his face was hovering inches away from Miles’, and they both melted into another fit of laughter, bodies pressed to one another, against the warm earth of their homestead. 

As their laughter quieted, a comfortable blanket of silence settled upon them, interrupted only by the steady breeze and the sound of farm life around them. Rhett nuzzled his nose against Miles’, humming lowly. “S’good to be home.”

Miles’ hands lifted to hold Rhett’s face, palms pressed gently against the beard. “It’s good to have you home.” 

When Rhett kissed him, it was deep, loving, filled with all the minutes, hours, and days of yearning he’d experienced while he was away from his beloved. When they parted, both were breathless, warmth rushing through them like champagne fizz. 

Hands resting upon the back of Rhett’s neck, Miles opened his mouth to speak. “Honey, I—”

“Meow.”

The raspy note of Matilda’s voice, which Rhett liked to joke made her sound like she smoked ten packs of cigarettes a day, interrupted whatever Miles had been about to say. 

Rhett looked over to find the cat approaching, fluffy tail vibrating in excitement as she greeted her second dad. With the shake of his head, he reached over, scratching between her ears. “Hey, old bird. Did ya miss me?”

“She sure did. Slept on one of your flannels every night ‘cause it smelled like you.”

“Surprised you didn’t sleep on one of my flannels too,” Rhett teased. 

“I did actually sleep on your pillow because it smelled like you. Even sprayed your cologne on it after I did the laundry, hopin’ to make it smell like you again.”

“Did it work?”

“Wasn’t the same. But it’s alright, you’re back now so I can just lay my head on your chest and smell you all night long.”

Another bout of laughter followed, while Rhett absently scratched at Matilda’s head. Here, surrounded by his little family, he was exactly where he was always meant to be. “Guess we should get off the ground, huh?”

“I dunno, I’m kinda just content to lay here and pet this gorgeous beard.”

At that, Rhett shook his head, scoffing. “Gorgeous? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Miles leaned up to kiss the tip of Rhett’s nose. “I would. Beard’s gorgeous, I said what I said, no take-backs.”

With a roll of his eyes, Rhett playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip before he finally scrambled to his feet, reaching out to pull Miles upright. “Alright, beard monster. Let’s get inside.”

Miles giggled, watching as Rhett stooped to grab his duffel, and together, the two ambled toward the house, hips bumping as they walked, Rhett’s arm around Miles’ shoulders, Miles’ arm around his waist. 

Matilda followed eagerly after them, darting around their feet. 

“Old gal’s tryin’ to trip us,” Rhett muttered.

“I think she’s herding us into the house,” came Miles’ reply, laced with laughter. 

By some miracle, they managed to get inside without falling over top of the cat. As Miles closed the door behind them, Rhett stood in the entryway, breathing in deeply for a moment. The scent of home enveloped him like a comforting hug.

Cedar and oak from the hand cut woodwork that accented the cottage, chamomile and frankincense from the diffuser Miles kept on the entryway credenza. And then, of course, there was the scent of a slow simmering stew, onion and garlic and seared meat. 

Rhett’s stomach growled. Miles’ cooking was his favorite. After going weeks without it, he couldn’t wait to eat whatever it was that his husband had cooked up. “Smells s’damn good in here,” he murmured as he toed his boots off, careful to put them on the boot rack near the door. Miles hated when he left his shoes in the middle of the floor. 

“I’m makin’ stew!” Miles happily replied. “I also made you an apple pie.”

At that, hearts might as well have appeared in Rhett’s eyes, like a silly cartoon. His arm found its way to Miles’ waist again, pulling him into the warmth of his body. “What’d I ever do to get blessed with such a good husband? You spoil me, bub.”

Lashes fluttering, Miles shook his head. “You know me, always gotta make sure my man is fed well.”

Rhett ducked his head, kissing Miles once more. They melted into one another, in the cozy confines of their cottage, finally at ease, at peace, two halves of a whole joined together again. When Rhett’s tongue swiped at the bottom of Miles’ lip, he eagerly opened his mouth, letting Rhett inside. Tasting each other, memorizing the feel of one another’s tongues, the slick warmth of their mouths. 

It was dizzying. Intoxicating. Within his chest, Miles felt his heart rate spike, fluttering like a hummingbird. Rhett’s was the same, a caged bird trying to escape. His Miles was so soft against him, cheeks rounded and a little squishy, blushing with the glow of good health. 

What a testament to how well he was doing. Rhett remembered how, not so long ago, Miles was all gaunt cheeks and sharp angles. Now here he stood, healthy and robust. And he was whimpering into Rhett’s mouth, losing himself to the kiss. Fuck. What a pretty sound.

Miles’ hands lifted to take hold of Rhett’s collar, then, as if remembering the beard existed, his fingers began to run through it, petting the slightly coarse hair. Rhett’s hand rested upon Miles’ lower back, pulling him closer, pelvis tilting into his own. 

Rhett felt it then. The telltale hardness that was beginning to grow in Miles’ sweatpants. At that, they parted, both out of breath, eyes a little unfocused, swaying in one another’s arms. 

“Oh, um, I…got a little carried away,” came Miles’ reply, voice cracking. He glanced down, cheeks warming as he realized he was hard. 

With the shake of his head, Rhett grinned. “We’ve been apart for a whole damn month. No such thing as gettin’ carried away, not after we’ve been missin’ each other so much.”

“Uh-huh,” Miles agreed as Rhett kissed at his jaw, distracted by the scrape of his mustache. “But I wanna feed you first. Know you’re probably starvin’.”

“I am starvin’,” Rhett agreed, “but it ain’t for stew or apple pie. Got somethin’ even tastier right in front of me.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let the stew simmer for a little longer…”

The smile that spread across Rhett’s face was wolfish. “Now we’re talkin’.”

“But you have to let me soften this thing up a bit first, ‘cause I just know it’s gonna give me a rash if you don’t,” Miles mused, stroking Rhett’s beard again. 

“Alright, how ‘bout we go hop in the shower? Gotta rinse off anyway, A/C is busted in the truck and the ride home was sweaty. I probably stink to high heaven.”

Miles shook his head, eyes glimmering. “No, you smell like you, and I love it. But it wouldn’t hurt to take a shower anyway.”

“Alrighty then, let’s get to it, loverboy.” 

Together, they headed toward the staircase that led to the upper level, where their bedroom, and the bathroom resided. Giggling, stumbling slightly, hands all over each other, they managed to ascend the steps, Rhett dragging his duffel bag along with him. Once they reached the bedroom, the bag hit the floor with a thud. 

The cozy oasis instantly made Rhett feel at ease. The floor was dark wood, a large rug with shades of green covering part of it. The bed frame was fashioned out of rustic wood, built by Rhett’s own hands. Bedding in shades of green complimented the rug, bringing the room together. 

The room smelled of lavender, soothing in nature. 

This haven was their safe space. A place of solitude and comfort, surrounding the bed in which they held one another as they slept, spent hours engaging in pillow talk, and made sweet love to each other. 

Rhett no longer had to sleep on an uneven vinyl mattress in a bunkhouse full of guys. There was no doubt that he would sleep like a baby tonight, in the comfort of his own bed. But first, there were some things to attend to. Which were made clear by the insistent press of Miles against his back, cheek resting between his shoulder blades as his arms encircled Rhett’s waist from behind. 

“If you grab the towels, I’ll start the shower.”

Rhett hummed. “Sure thing, darlin’.”

And so they parted, Rhett with his job, and Miles with his own.

Steam began to rise in the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and creating a hazy atmosphere as Miles brought the water to the perfect temperature. Rhett joined him moments later, holding two neatly folded towels in one hand, and a bottle of something in his other.

“I, uh, have this beard oil here. One of the guys I was workin’ with gave it to me, but I haven’t tried it out yet. Thought now might be the perfect time.”

Miles nodded eagerly. “Yes! That’s good, we can use it when we’re done.” He took the items from Rhett, setting them down upon the bathroom counter. “Now, go ‘head and get naked, cowboy. Water’s nice and hot.”

“You just want me to strip for ya, s’that it?” Came Rhett’s teasing. 

“I mean, unless you want to take a shower fully clothed…”

With the roll of his eyes, Rhett shook his head, already moving to begin unbuttoning his shirt. But a glint of mischief flashed in Miles’ eyes, and he moved toward Rhett like a honey badger in search of sticky sweet honey. “Wait! Let me do it.”

In amusement, Rhett watched as Miles’ nimble fingers began to undo each button. Once he got to the waistline of his jeans, he gripped the belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. Something about that act made Rhett’s breath hitch in his throat, his mind flashing back to so many times like this one, in which Miles had eagerly unbuckled his belt to take his cock in his mouth.

Rhett’s blood rushed south.

“Honey.”

“Huh?”

“I said, could you step out of your jeans, please?”

Rhett glanced down, realizing Miles was waiting for him to lift each foot from the pant legs of his jeans. “Oh. Got distracted, sorry.”

Miles giggled as he tossed the now discarded jeans to the side. “Soon as I get on my knees you go all caveman brained,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Rhett’s bare thigh. 

“Can ya blame me? Got a little nymph kneelin’ at my feet, can’t help but lose my composure a bit.”

A blush darkened Miles’ cheeks. “I’m a nymph now, huh?” He asked with the raise of his brow.

“Yep. Real cute one too.”

“What kind? Dryad? Naiad? Aurae?”

It was Rhett’s turn to blush, though his was because Miles had such extensive knowledge of Greek mythology, and Rhett was totally out of his element. “I, uh…I dunno, which one do you want to be?” 

Miles giggled as he rose to stand. “I’ll go with dryad. They’re tree nymphs.”

That gave Rhett the opportunity to roll with it and return a humorous quip. “Why? ‘Cause you wanna climb me like a tree?”

They both melted into laughter, Miles shoving at Rhett’s chest. “You’re lame.”

“Ain’t that why you love me?”

“I love you in spite of your lameness.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Rhett pulled him in for another kiss, before he shrugged his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with a barely audible whisper of fabric. 

That left him in just his underwear, and Miles still fully clothed. Something that needed to be remedied. Rhett eased Miles’ waffle knit shirt over his head, exposing his upper body. Dusky pink nipples that had hardened to stiff little peaks. Milky skin dotted with freckles. A soft tummy, with a scar directly in the middle, just above his bellybutton. 

Slightly jagged, pale around the edges. The scar that had nearly taken him from Rhett. The scar that reminded them both of everything they had overcome just to be able to live this sweet, slow life on their little homestead. 

Rhett was struck with a wave of awe as he watched Miles undress. He so vividly remembered the first time he had slept with Miles, back at the El Royale. Though Rhett had never had sex with another man before, he wasn’t half as nervous as Miles had been. Trembling hands, blushing cheeks, eyes that couldn’t meet the cowboy’s gaze.

Miles admitted that he had been with men before, but the reason he was so nervous was because he’d never connected with any of them like this. It wasn’t a quick, hurried fuck in the dark that left Miles feeling like damaged goods, dirty and used. This was intimate. And true intimacy was a very foreign thing to Miles. 

He had been shy. Uncertain. But that was okay, because Rhett was patient. He, too, was navigating something foreign and new. 

Then, Miles had been self-conscious about undressing in front of Rhett. Now, he shrugged out of his clothes without hesitancy or complaint, comfortable in his own skin, accustomed to being naked in front of his husband. 

The cherry on top? Rhett caught a glimpse of something glimmering, nestled between the soft swell of Miles’ ass, as he stepped out of his underwear. 

“You’re wearin’ a plug?” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, but it did anyway. 

Miles paused, lashes fluttering as he smiled, not shyly, but mischievously. “Well I wanted to be ready for you, had to keep myself stretched.” He said it so matter-of-fact, and it sent a jolt of arousal through Rhett. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Such a good boy.” 

At that, Miles couldn’t help but beam with pride. Rhett’s praise always made his heart sing. He knew wearing a plug would elicit such a reaction. His husband couldn’t get enough of the sight of that pretty, purple, heart shaped jewel contrasted against Miles’ skin. 

It was clear that Miles had been banking on the fact that he was going to get fucked tonight. And Rhett would gladly oblige him. But first, there were other things to attend to. 

“C’mon, get outta those underwear and hop in, so we don’t waste any more water,” Miles said, motioning toward the shower. 

Nodding dumbly, Rhett was already moving to tug his boxers down his legs, half hard beneath them. The sight of him, naked as day, stole Miles’ breath away. It had only been a month, and yet, seeing him now, it felt as if they had spent a lifetime apart. 

He nearly dropped to his knees to take that gorgeous, thick cock into his mouth. But somehow, Miles mustered enough restraint not to do that, but to instead grab Rhett’s hand and guide him into the steam of the shower. 

Rhett followed like a lovesick puppy, which was essentially what he was. As the warm water enveloped him, his hands took hold of Miles’ hips, drawing him closer. The press of bare skin against bare skin was overwhelmingly intimate. It stole Rhett’s breath away. 

He realized how touch starved he was, as he wrapped his arms around Miles, allowing the water to cascade over them both. Going without his lover’s sweet embrace had been more torturous than he even realized. 

Funny, Rhett had always believed himself to have an aversion to touch. In reality, he had merely been so deprived of affection, that he had allowed himself to believe he had no desire for it. 

First, he had needed to come to the conclusion that he could seek out affection, that it was okay, that he wouldn’t be dismissed, turned away, scoffed at. It had helped, early on in their relationship, that Miles needed him. When Rhett first brought him home after his hospital stay following the events of the El Royale, there was a lot of physical contact involved. 

Miles needed to be held when the nightmares woke him in the night. Needed Rhett’s help to take care of himself, to bathe, to do basic tasks that required Rhett to get up close and personal with him. And through that, they had developed a very deep bond. Physical touch provided them both so much comfort during that time, and it still provided comfort now. 

“Missed holdin’ you,” Rhett murmured, voice low. “Hell, I missed everythin’ about you. Already knew I was lucky to have you, but living in a bunkhouse full of dudes reminded me just how lucky.”

At that, Miles grinned. “Oh, he finally admits it.”

That earned an eye roll from Rhett, who playfully swatted Miles’ pert ass. “Hush up, ‘ve always told you how lucky I am to have ya. Just had a good reminder this past month after bein’ away from you.”

“You just missed me for my cooking,” came Miles’ teasing reply. 

Eyes glimmering, Rhett shrugged. “That, and maybe I missed the really good head you give.”

It was Miles’ turn to shake his head in disbelief, pushing at Rhett’s chest. “Oh, unhand me, you perv. Let me condition that beard of yours.”

In reply, Rhett snickered, releasing Miles so he could grab what he needed. But Rhett couldn’t be expected to keep his hands to himself for long, not after being so deprived. 

When Miles turned back around, shampoo in hand, Rhett guided him close once again, tilting his chin back to kiss him languidly. 

“Let me take care of you for a minute,” Miles spoke against Rhett’s mouth, “wanna make you feel pampered.”

An amused hum left Rhett’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, ‘cause I know you haven’t had much pamperin’ these last few weeks. Taking rushed showers doesn’t count. You need someone to actually take care of you.”

Something about that took Rhett’s breath away, and he couldn’t conjure up a coherent reply. Certainly not when Miles coaxed him to kneel upon the shower floor so he could properly wash Rhett’s hair. There was a tenderness that Miles brought to everything he did. Care and attention to detail. 

Rhett let himself be looked after. Miles so carefully detached the shower head and used it to dampen Rhett’s hair, allowing some water to cascade down to his beard. The shower head was returned to its cradle in favor of pouring shampoo into his palm, which he first lathered in his hands before so gently working it through Rhett’s hair.

“Your hair got longer too,” Miles observed, “I like it.” 

Rhett was too busy enjoying the sensation of Miles’ fingers massaging his scalp to reply. Eyes fluttering shut, he allowed himself to fully relax. Above him, Miles couldn’t help but admire how at peace his husband looked. The crease in his brow had smoothed out, stress melting away. Miles could only imagine the physical toll the last few weeks had taken. 

Rhett was tired. But now, he could rest. 

“Alright, I’m gonna wash your beard now.” 

At that, Rhett opened his eyes, watching Miles’ focused expression as he lathered shampoo into the beard. His lashes fluttered, eyes glimmering, mouth parting. The expression made Rhett’s heart stutter in his chest. He had never felt more beautiful than he did under his husband’s gaze.

Rhett had never had a high opinion of himself or his own looks, but with the way Miles looked at him, he may as well have been the most handsome man in the entire world. And he was, to Miles. All others paled in comparison. 

Rhett might’ve offered another teasing quip about how far gone Miles was for this beard, but he couldn’t find it in himself to muster a coherent word. Not when his face was so gently cradled in Miles’ hands, handled with the utmost care. 

When it came time to rinse the soap out, Miles was cautious not to get any in Rhett’s mouth, or his eyes. And once he was finished, he spoke, voice slightly wrecked. “You can stand now. Don’t want your knees to hurt from kneeling for too long.”

When Rhett rose to his feet, he watched Miles turn to grab the conditioner bottle, muscle rippling beneath his skin with the movement. Quiet strength, rebuilt after a long period of weakness. A time when Miles could barely walk, because of the pain he was in. Now he hauled bales of hay, carried feed sacks over one shoulder, endured more strenuous forms of labor. He still dealt with lingering aches and pains from his old injuries, at times, but it wasn’t debilitating any longer. 

“You’re staring.”

Rhett’s eyes snapped up to Miles’, and a smile tugged at his mouth. Not sheepish, but loving. “I was just admirin’ your muscles.”

A flush creeped onto Miles’ cheeks. “Oh. They ain’t anything to write home about.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Look how strong you’ve gotten after all this time. I mean, you could barely walk when I first brought ya back to Wabang. Now look at all you can do.” Instinctively, he pulled Miles toward him, arms winding around his waist, bodies slick from the water, warm from the heat. Skin to skin, chest to chest, desire thrumming between them, where their hips met. 

“Guess I have come pretty far. But it’s because you believed in me. Couldn’t have done any of it without you.”

Rhett hummed, nuzzling his nose against Miles’. “We’re a team. We work together.” One large hand came up to rest against the scarred side of Miles’ face, thumb rubbing loving circles against his cheek. The feeling of raised skin beneath his touch always reminded Rhett that Miles was very much alive and well. 

Here, in the cozy warmth of their shower, the sweet scent of coconut shampoo hanging in the damp air. A place of softness, goodness, love. 

“Love you so much.” Miles murmured, slow and relaxed. Then his mouth curved into a smile. “But you gotta let me condition the beard now. You keep distracting me.”

“Sorry, sorry, can’t help myself. Wanna hold ‘n squeeze you all the time, twenty-four-seven.” For emphasis, his hands skimmed down the expanse of Miles’ back, gripping the plushness of his ass. 

By some miracle, Miles managed to smooth conditioner into Rhett’s beard, without dropping the bottle, even with the other man grabbing at him. He even managed to ease out of Rhett’s grip and grab soap and a wash cloth.

As he let the conditioner sit, Miles began to attentively wash Rhett’s body. Careful passes of the cloth, starting at the neck and working his way down. Over Rhett’s chest, over that ridiculous faded bull and rider tattoo that he’d gotten at a sketchy tattoo shop when he was eighteen. Over the scar on his shoulder, where he’d taken a bullhorn when he was twenty-one. 

Down, down, down his torso Miles went. Washing away sweat, leaving Rhett’s skin clean and slightly pink. Then, Miles found himself kneeling, and something shifted in his expression. With reverence and tenderness, he ran the cloth between Rhett’s strong thighs, over the ever-growing hardness there.

On instinct, Miles leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the base of it, and Rhett gasped softly above him. There was an innocence to that action, a sweetness, and it increased Rhett’s desire so intensely that he had to reach a hand back against the shower wall to steady himself. 

Miles was so tempted to suck him off then and there, but he had an end goal in mind, and that involved being in the soft comfort of their bed. So he forced himself to continue cleansing Rhett’s skin, moving further down his legs, until, finally, Miles rose to stand once again. 

“Gotta, um, rinse out that conditioner now.”

“Bub.”

“Yeah?”

“Y’can have me in your mouth, if you want.”

At that, Miles shook his head. “I know, but I don’t wanna do it in the shower. I’d rather be in bed.”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. “Anythin’ for you, princess.”

“Hush up,” Miles responded, though he couldn’t hide his own smile. He set the wash cloth aside and grabbed the shower head again, using it to quickly rinse the conditioner out of Rhett’s beard. Then, once he was satisfied, he shut the water off. 

Quick and methodical, he gave Rhett a towel to dry off with, before grabbing one for himself. Miles would take his own full shower later, because he knew he would need one after whatever mischief he and Rhett got up to in bed. 

Until then, Miles ushered Rhett to sit upon the closed toilet seat. He’d wrapped his towel around his waist, and it did little to conceal his arousal. Miles tried his best not to get distracted by it as he retrieved a clean, dry face towel from the cabinet. 

Rhett let himself once again enjoy the relaxing sensation of his husband’s hands on him. With precision, Miles towel dried the beard, and then retrieved the bottle of oil from the vanity, pausing to read the directions before he began to apply it.

Once satisfied, he took a fine tooth comb, and ran it through the beard, ensuring it looked neat and well-kept. “There. All finished.” He was beaming. Eyes shimmering. Admiring his man. 

Rhett turned, glancing over his shoulder to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. “Not half bad,” he said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Maybe you should open a barber shop.”

“Maybe I should,” Miles jokingly agreed. 

After he put the beard oil away, Rhett guided Miles toward him, hands on his hips, over the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. Eyes hungry, Rhett gazed up at him, and admired the way his honeyed curls, damp from the shower, fell across his forehead. He looked angelic, in a way. 

“Y’know…” Rhett began, “I was thinkin’. You like my beard so much, maybe you’d like to go for a little ride on it.”

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to, if–”

“I wouldn’t offer, if I didn’t want to do it.” He lovingly squeezed the backs of Miles’ thighs through the terrycloth. “You spent all this time gettin’ it nice and soft. Should be allowed to enjoy your hard work, don’t ya think?”

“I-I guess so.” Cheeks blushing pink. Lashes fluttering. 

Rhett squared his shoulders, eyes narrowing, a cat eager to play with its little mouse. “C’mon now, pretty baby. Let’s go get in bed so you can sit your cute li’l ass on my face.”

Miles lost his ability to form a coherent sentence as Rhett stood, a full head taller than him. Towering. Broad. Oh, he’d definitely missed this. How small Rhett made him feel. Not a feeling of powerlessness, but of safety, of sanctuary, of peace.

Allowing himself to be led by the wrist, Miles followed Rhett out of the steam-dampened bathroom, the cool air of the hallway leaving goosebumps in its wake as the two made their way into the bedroom. 

Once in the tranquil confines, door shut so Matilda the cat wouldn’t try to sneak in, a blanket of comfort and ease fell upon the two men. There was no performance, no expectation. They could just…be. 

Rhett turned toward Miles, his eyes shimmering with something he could not name. In this haven, they were both exactly where they were meant to be. 

Strong, weathered hands skimmed down Miles’ abdomen, deft fingers unwrapping the towel and sending it to the floor. Rhett’s towel followed suit, leaving them bare to one another again. 

The mattress was soft beneath Miles as he e was guided onto it. Rhett held eye contact as he joined him, straddling Miles’ waist, skin warm against skin. Anticipation hung between them, thrumming through their veins.

In his lungs, Miles’ breath hitched, stalling as Rhett ducked forward, eyes narrow, mouth curved into a knowing smile. And Miles melted beneath him, contentment softening his face. Rhett couldn’t help but admire how at ease the other man appeared. Hair curling in tendrils against his forehead, softening his features and giving him a boyish glow that made Rhett’s heart flip. 

He couldn’t resist tracing Miles’ features with his fingertips. The slope of his nose, the fullness of his blushing cheeks, the thin, pink line of his lips. Instinctively, Miles parted his mouth as Rhett’s thumb brushed over it. Wordlessly, he pressed that thumb forward, allowing Miles to suckle at it.

Rhett watched in awe as Miles’ lashes fluttered, eyes hooded, unfocused. His hands came up to loosely grip Rhett’s wrist.

“Oh. You need it bad, don’t you baby?” Rhett breathed. 

“Uh-huh.” came Miles’ response, mouth still full of Rhett’s thumb.

Warmth spread through Rhett’s chest, that familiar, protective instinct swelling within him. Assuming a role of dominance. Not overbearing, not loud. Quiet, controlled, driven by the need to care for his husband. 

“Waited so long, huh?” He cooed.

At that, Miles pulled back from Rhett’s thumb to speak. “I…I didn’t touch myself the whole time you were gone.”

The admission didn’t shock Rhett. Miles didn’t prefer masturbation, at least not when he was alone. He needed physical contact, needed his partner there with him so he could stay grounded. Getting off by himself usually left him feeling unfulfilled and lonely in the comedown, yearning to be held, so his mind wouldn’t spiral too much.

With a low hum, Rhett nuzzled Miles’ nose. “Can I tell ya, I didn’t touch myself, either? I barely had two seconds of privacy some days. Not so easy to get in the mood when you got people breathin’ down your neck.”

A smile crossed Miles’ face. “So we’re both super pent-up then?”

“Guess so. Gonna have to pace ourselves so we don’t finish too fast.”

Miles reached up to run his fingers through Rhett’s beard. “With this thing on your face, I know I won’t last long.”

“We should put that to the test.” Rhett ducked forward to capture Miles’ sweet, mocking mouth in a kiss. 

It was then that Miles seemed to truly register just how bare they both were. As Rhett kissed him, tongue delving into his mouth, Miles canted his hips forward, cock dragging against Rhett’s, hard and insistent between them. 

This was what Miles had been stretching himself for all day, with that jeweled plug. He couldn’t wait to be filled, connected in the most intimate of ways. But first, there was a beard to sit on. 

Rhett knew how much Miles enjoyed foreplay. Not just leading up to the act itself, but in the hours before. A slow, steady buildup. Stolen touches throughout the day, charges glances, and various acts of service that made Miles swoon. 

Of course, Rhett had only been home for about an hour, so a long, drawn out day of foreplay wasn’t on the table. However, he could still worship his husband in this moment, bringing his mouth down his jaw, his neck. Beard brushing over sensitive flesh as he went. 

He sucked on Miles’ pulse point, which drew the most delicious little whimper, cock growing even harder from the sensation. 

Then, Rhett went lower. Over Miles’ clavicle. Between the valley of his chest. Then, ever so slightly, Rhett ran his bearded cheek over each of Miles’ nipples. That drew a choked gasp from him as he jolted beneath Rhett. 

“O-oh! That…that feels good.” A soft, breathless admission. 

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Yeah?” He did it again, facial hair brushing over each pebbled little nipple, enjoying the way his husband squirmed beneath him. 

Then, he continued his descent, kissing over Miles’ belly, gentle as he kissed his scar. There had been a time when Miles couldn’t stand to be touched there, but now, he welcomed it, melting into the affection Rhett left against the mark. 

When Miles lifted his head to gaze down at Rhett, he found him already looking up at him, now hovering just over the dusting of hair that led down his lower abdomen, giving way to a thatch of thicker, blondish hair that framed his cock. 

“Look at that. So hard f’me already.” Rhett’s hand wrapped around Miles’ shaft, tugging once, twice, relishing in the hiss Miles let out. “You ready to sit on my face?”

“Uh-huh.” Mouth loose around the syllables, ability to speak leaving him momentarily. 

Rhett’s brow lifted. “Words, bubba.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good boy.” Then Rhett shifted, first grabbing a bottle of lube from the nightstand, and then moving to slide the pillows aside so he could lay flat. Once he was settled, he waved Miles over. “Now c’mon, get on up here.”

Butterflies fluttered in Miles’ tummy as he moved to join Rhett, hands resting upon the headboard to steady himself as he swung his leg over to straddle his face. From this position, Miles found himself feeling just a little vulnerable. It wasn’t often that they did this. 

“Don’t you get lost in that pretty head of yours.” Rhett’s hands came up to gently grip Miles’ thighs, squeezing the muscle. “I’m gonna take your plug out now, alright?”

“Okay.”

Rhett slid his hand back, fingers locating the jewel, before he cautiously eased it out of Miles, who sighed softly at the feeling. He’d been wearing it all day, and was struck by the sudden emptiness. An emptiness that would soon be filled. 

After the plug was set aside, Rhett slowly guided Miles forward, until he was hovering over his face. From Rhett’s vantage point, he was admiring everything in his line of sight. Miles’ cock bobbing between his thighs as he shifted, his full balls, the sensitive, pink skin that led to that cute little hole settled between the plushness of his ass.

“Mm, so pretty,” Rhett cooed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Miles’ thigh, certain to rub his beard into the sensitive skin.

That earned him a surprised “oh!”

Rhett couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be so much fun. 

Hands against Miles’ thighs, Rhett kept him steady, guiding him lower until he could mouth lovingly against the underside of his cock. Miles had to grip the headboard again to keep himself upright. The sensation of that beard was indescribable.

As Rhett licked and sucked and nuzzled, Miles found himself falling deeper and deeper into that state that could only be described as champagne fizz, or maybe fireworks, popping through his brain, through his neural receptors, through every nerve ending in his body.

If this had been his first time experiencing such intense sensations, he might’ve asked to stop. But he knew this feeling well. It was something he had begun to experience after he retired the drugs. After he regained his senses, and they weren’t dulled by another form of stimulus. 

He felt everything. 

And then Rhett guided him forward a little more, so he could swirl his tongue around Miles’ entrance, and that heightened it all. Pathetically, brokenly, Miles moaned, eyes rolling back. Fuck, they’d only just started and he was already this far gone. 

He didn’t have to hold back. Didn’t have to hide his pleasure for fear of Rhett’s judgment. Because Rhett loved how sensitive his husband was. How it was so easy to send him over the edge, how Miles was comfortable enough to allow himself to be in his most vulnerable state, because he knew that Rhett would take care of him. 

No matter how fast he fell, Rhett was always there to catch him. 

And now, Rhett held him, guided him, encouraged him to take what he needed as Miles’ hips canted against that bearded face. 

When Miles looked down, his breath caught in his chest. What a salacious sight. Rhett, between his thighs, Miles’ dick resting across his face. It earned a whimpered “oh my stars,” from Miles. 

That drew a deep groan out of Rhett. Didn’t matter how down and dirty they got. Miles rarely uttered swear words. He just wasn’t in the habit of doing so. Instead, he would say his usual clean phrases. Oh goodness. Oh my stars. Oh my gosh.

Rhett found it both adorable and incredibly hot. Perhaps it was his innocence kink running rampant. 

As if anything about what they were doing was innocent whatsoever. 

Wanting to draw more sounds out of his man, Rhett decided to offer double the stimulation. He eased Miles back just a little so he could speak. “Can ya hand me the lube, darlin’?”

Dumbly, Miles nodded, eyes blinking rapidly as he registered what Rhett was asking. Slowly, he reached over to grab the bottle, and Rhett held up his palm. Miles wasn’t sure how he was able to muster the wherewithal to pour some into Rhett’s hand, but he succeeded somehow. 

Then Rhett pulled Miles back over his face, and wrapped that lubed up hand around his cock. The moment he applied pressure, fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, Miles jolted, gasping raggedly. 

That spurred Rhett on, and he found his rhythm. Just knowing how much enjoyment Miles was getting out of this was turning Rhett on immensely. The sounds his husband made were so sweet, so vulnerable. Whimpers, squeaks, sighs.

The most gorgeous music he’d ever had the pleasure of listening to. Far surpassing even the melodious birdsong Rhett always enjoyed when he was out in the pastures. Miles’ song was even sweeter than a meadowlark’s. 

Rhett drew more sounds of pleasure from him as he continued his onslaught, laving at the delicate skin, delving his tongue inside, nuzzling his beard against Miles just to draw even more whimpers forth, like a babbling brook. 

That, paired with Rhett’s hand steadily stroking him, was almost too much for Miles. He lost himself to the bliss, eyes fluttering shut, head lolling back. Yes, yes, yes, right there, don’t stop. 

Warmth spread through him, from head to toe. His muscles trembled, his heart flip-flopped, his entire being knew only Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

Having gone so long without stimulation, experiencing it again was a welcome assault to his senses. He couldn’t help but grind down against his husband’s handsome face, unable to keep still as one hand held the headboard, and the other tangled in the mop of brunette hair beneath him. 

Rhett grunted at the feeling of Miles tugging at the roots, and it only spurred him on, encouraging him to work with more fervor to provide the man above him with as much pleasure as possible. 

As the intensity mounted, Miles found himself instinctively reaching for Rhett’s hand to hold on to, needing the physical contact, an anchor to ground himself so he didn’t float away, up into the sky like a hot air balloon. 

With their fingers intertwined, he tried to focus, tried to be present in the moment, to enjoy being reunited with his love in such a salacious yet intimate way, after being apart for so many days. But his mind kept fixating on various discomforts. The way his thighs were beginning to burn, the way his spine was too tense because he was subconsciously afraid of resting his weight entirely on Rhett.

And then there was the lack of physical contact. Miles needed more. Needed Rhett’s arms around him, his voice in his ear, his body pressed against him. 

Miles opened his mouth to speak, to ask to change positions, but he was suddenly overcome with a wave of pleasure so electric, he realized almost too late that he was already close to falling apart. 

“Ah! W-wait, wait, wait,” he babbled, reaching down to grab Rhett’s wrist. 

Rhett stopped immediately, hand falling away as Miles pulled back, hovering just over Rhett’s chest now. 

“Y’alright, bub?” 

Miles took a steadying breath, lashes fluttering. His face was flushed, cheeks pink, eyes unfocused. “Yeah, I…I don’t wanna cum yet. Got there a little faster than I wanted.”

Rhett’s palm came to rest upon the softness of Miles’ thigh. “Do you wanna take a break?”

In the past, Miles might have let himself spiral over that, worrying that he was upsetting his partner for needing to put things on pause. But now, he found the confidence to say, “yes. I think that would help. Just…need to be close to you for a bit. Can’t get enough contact from in this position.”

A soft, pleased smile passed over Rhett’s face. If his bub wanted to be close to him, he’d give him exactly what he asked for. “Alright, get over here then.”

Miles was then guided down onto the bed, where he eagerly snuggled into the cowboy’s side, warm and safe, no pressure to continue sex until he was ready. 

An apology was on the tip of his tongue. And he would’ve uttered it, if he hadn’t spent the last few years being assured by Rhett time and time again that he didn’t need to be sorry for needing a break. Now, he believed it. He had nothing to apologize for. 

Besides, it was nice to have a moment to just…be. Here, he could exist in the arms of his spouse, in his most vulnerable state. Protected, loved, cherished. The physical contact was welcome, especially after going without for a while. 

“Mm, missed layin’ on you like this,” Miles spoke, nuzzling his face against Rhett’s chest, sparsely dusted with hair. He breathed in deep, inhaling the clean scent, settling even further into the heat of his body. 

Rhett’s arm wrapped around Miles, holding him closer still. The air between them was still charged, thrumming with anticipation of what was to come. But they were in no rush to get there. Rhett was content to hold his sweetheart for a little while longer, and enjoy the closeness. If there was one thing Miles had taught him over the years, it was to be present and enjoy the moment.

If he’d rushed things along, he wouldn’t get to experience this. The soft press of Miles’ mouth as he lifted his head to kiss Rhett’s chest. Again and again, he kissed the skin there, and the slight swell of his pectoral. Lovingly, adoringly, Rhett watched, admiring the way Miles’ lashes fluttered, the way he seemed so at peace.

“Love you so much,” he continued, words muffled as he mouthed at Rhett’s chest, so they sounded more like “luh ya s’much.” 

Rhett was overcome with something he could not name. An all-consuming need to protect, to provide, to hold and cherish. His free hand lifted, thumb gently brushing over the roundness of Miles’ cheek. 

“Love you too, bub.” There was a rawness in his voice. Sincerity burned through him. 

“I…” Miles opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t voice them. Couldn’t muster the wherewithal to form a single coherent sentence. But Rhett didn’t expect him to speak.

What Miles needed was for his mouth to be occupied. So Rhett gave that to him, guiding him forth until Miles wrapped his lips around one of Rhett’s peaked nipples.

That did exactly what Miles needed it to. He moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. It drew a broken gasp from the cowboy, who soon cooed and reached up to brush Miles’ curls away from his forehead. 

“There ya go. That what you needed, baby boy?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. Just had to have your mouth full for a bit. Bet you missed havin’ something to suck on, huh?”

Another whimpered “mhm!”

Rhett knew his partner well. Miles had always had an oral fixation, and together they had found that he loved sucking on Rhett’s fingers, or, in this case, his nipples. Something that Miles had originally been embarrassed about, but Rhett had assured him that he found it to be a major turn on. And not only that, but it had become very soothing for both of them. A way to connect with each other, to experience another form of intimacy. 

Here, in the sacred confines of their bed, they melted into one another. A sense of peace blanketed Miles, his overwhelm fading away as he nuzzled further into Rhett. This was what Miles had needed all along. The close contact. Nights spent in this bed had been so lonely without his cowboy. The emptiness of the house would press into him, too quiet, too vast. He would play soft classical music to fall asleep to, just to fill the silence. 

Now, he could listen to Rhett’s heartbeat, and the soft, rhythmic sound of his breath. Oh, how sweet it was to be reunited. 

If only for a moment, everything disappeared. All of Miles’ worries, all his uncertainty. It left his mind, and in its place, a flood of endorphins rose to the occasion.

Rhett allowed Miles to have his fill, to remain against his chest for as long as he wanted. Because it was just as soothing for Rhett, and he adored watching how peaceful his husband looked. 

And then, instinctively, Miles’ hand came up, fingers absently running through Rhett’s beard, and that quite nearly sent Rhett’s heart soaring up into the heavens. He was a source of comfort. And that privilege meant everything to him. 

He held Miles a little tighter, relishing in the closeness, and in the sound of his soft hums of contentment. 

After a few moments, Miles pulled back, lips wet and shimmering, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glassy. And he seemed to fully register the fact that Rhett was hard and aching, cock resting heavy and flushed against his abdomen. 

Switching gears, his hand skimmed down Rhett’s chest, over his stomach, and stopped right against his cock. Miles’ fingers wrapped around the shaft, thumb swiping over the blushed tip, which leaked a steady stream of molten arousal. 

Rhett’s breath hitched, a shock of pleasure rushing through him. 

“You’re so wet,” Miles murmured, an observation more than anything. But the way he said it, with this unintentional air of innocence, made Rhett’s heart rate pick up speed. 

“Can’t help it,” he grunted, “s’just what you do to me.” 

In wonder, Miles lifted his hand to admire the way the sticky substance glistened on his fingers. And then, he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked those fingers clean. 

Rhett groaned deep in his chest, unable to hold back any longer. With ease, not force, he shifted, until his body was hovering over Miles, not pinning him down, but blanketing him. 

Miles blinked up at him, lashes fluttering, curls mussed atop his head, appearing more like a halo. 

“God, I could just eat ya right up,” came Rhett’s rasped admission. “You got no idea how much you turn me on.”

“If it’s anything like the way you turn me on, I think I have some sort of idea,” Miles managed to tease back, even as his eyes drifted down between their bodies, where Rhett’s cock brushed lightly over his. 

A smile warmed Rhett’s face. “Guess we’re even, huh?” He playfully nipped at Miles’ bottom lip, and when it parted, he kissed him deeply. 

Miles’ brain went haywire once again at the feeling of that facial hair against his skin. The overwhelm he had felt earlier had melted into something much more manageable, and now, he found himself wrapping his arms around Rhett’s shoulders, pulling him closer, eager for more. 

“Whatcha want, bubba? Want my face between your legs again? Or you want me inside you?”

“I’m ready for you to be inside me.” There was no hesitancy. Miles knew what he wanted. 

With another kiss, Rhett said, “alright. Lemme just grab the lube.” The bottle had rolled toward the edge of the bed, and he rescued it from falling to its death over the edge, before moving to kneel against the bed so he could ready both himself and Miles. 

Rhett took extra care to warm the lube between his fingers before he brought them down to prep Miles. His work roughened palms were gentle as he parted Miles’ legs, hunger in his eyes as he admired that pink little hole. 

Carefully, deliberately, Rhett smoothed his slick fingers where Miles needed him most, touch teasing and light as he circled his entrance. Any other time, Rhett might have drawn things out and made Miles beg for it. But after going without for so long, that just seemed downright cruel. Especially when Miles batted his pretty lashes at Rhett, bottom lip quivering from the force of his neediness. 

Rhett ducked forward, capturing those sweet lips in a kiss as he eased two fingers inside Miles, drinking down his broken whimper like it was some sort of heavenly nectar. 

He was so pretty like this. Already fucked out. In this lust-addled state, Miles’ inhibitions essentially went out the window. He was more vocal. Unashamed of his own desperation. 

As Rhett’s fingers stretched him, Miles sank deeper and deeper into that blissful state, eyes going unfocused, mouth open to let out those precious squeaks that Rhett adored so much. 

Miles trembled against the plushness of the mattress, blindly searching for one of Rhett’s hands to hold. In the haze of his own pleasure, Miles thought briefly that it was slightly pathetic just how needy and responsive he was. But he couldn’t help it, could he? His body was reacting of its own violation. His brain was just along for the ride.

Through the haze, he heard Rhett’s voice. A low rumble in his chest. Murmured words of praise. “Look at that. Pretty li’l ass opened right up for my fingers. Like you were made to take me, huh?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Was made f’you,” Miles managed to slur, mouth loose around the syllables. Intoxicated, not off of any sort of substance, but off of pure, unbridled arousal.

Rhett spent a little more time readying the man beneath him, guiding his fingers deeper. He splayed his hand against Miles’ lower abdomen, touch warm and grounding. Wordlessly encouraging him to relax. 

And relax, he did. His legs parted further, his body sank into the comfort of the quilt beneath him. The very quilt he had sewn together with his own hands, made from various patches of fabric, many of which held sentimental value. Including pieces of Rhett’s favorite childhood blanket. 

The quilt was a wedding gift Miles had presented to Rhett the night they got married. And now, it provided a source of grounding comfort as Miles melted into it. 

Safe. Protected. Enveloped in his husband’s warmth. 

“I’m ready.” Miles surprised even himself with how quickly and decisively he said it. He needed Rhett inside him. The thought of waiting another minute was unbearable. “Please, sir. Can’t wait any longer.”

That did it. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, mouth parting as his cheeks went ruddy with warmth. “Yeah? Poor baby. Gonna give you what you need.” He brought his hand up to cup Miles’ scarred cheek, thumb swiping over his lips. Miles took the digit greedily, mouth wrapping around it, relishing in its weight against his tongue. 

When his gaze flickered up to meet Rhett’s, the cowboy’s breath caught in his throat, dick twitching between his thighs. At that point it was just cruel to make Miles wait any longer. 

Rhett eased his fingers out of the man beneath him, swallowing his soft whimper with a kiss, before he reached over to take hold of the bottle of lube once again. 

He used a generous amount, not wanting to take any chance of possibly hurting Miles. Once Rhett was certain he’d used enough lube, he finally situated himself between Miles’ parted thighs, taking a moment to admire how pretty he was like this. Pliant and needy, eager for whatever Rhett was going to give him. 

Next came what was one of Rhett’s favorite moments whenever he made love to his husband. It was the sight of that sweet, handsome face crumpling into a mask of utter bliss as he eased his hips forward. 

The head of his cock only just breached Miles’ entrance, and already, his eyes were rolling back, mouth falling open, chest heaving as he took in a trembling breath. 

Rhett carefully pushed Miles’ thighs further apart, knees up near his chest. Holding him like that, he continued to ease forward, inch by inch, gauging Miles’ face for any signs of discomfort. But there were none. 

In fact, Miles began to softly plead, “more, more, more.”

So Rhett gave it to him. He pressed his hips down until Miles had taken all that he could. And then, in a breathless whimper, he sighed out, “thank youuu.”

Rhett’s head was spinning as he stared down in awe at the man he loved. So perfect and pliant, so utterly devoted. In this moment, trembling with desire, Rhett knew Miles would do anything he asked. Anything at all. 

But Rhett had never, and would never, abuse that sacred trust. In his most vulnerable state, Miles could give himself over to his husband, and know that he would take care of him in every way he needed. 

“There ya go. That’s what you needed, huh darlin’?”

Miles’ bottom lip quivered as he nodded. “Yes, yes, it’s everythin’ I needed!”

Rhett surged forth, elbows resting on the mattress, at either side of Miles’ head, caging him in. Instinctively, Miles wrapped his legs around the narrow plane of Rhett’s waist, pulling him even closer. Chest to chest, hearts beating as one. 

“S’alright if I move, or do you need a minute?” 

With a nod of his head, Miles replied, “you can move.”

He couldn’t describe it with mere words, but the feeling of being connected like this, in the most intimate way possible, brought a sense of all consuming peace upon Miles. It was more than just physical. The connection was emotional, he might even go as far as to say it was spiritual. 

Sex wasn’t simply a means to an end. A way to get off, to let off some steam. It was special, sweet, intimate. Even when they were participating in kink scenes, there was always a level of tenderness and care just beneath the surface. A reminder that they had each other. That, together, they were safe and loved. 

“Missed this so much,” Rhett gasped, voice strained as he eased his hips back, only to thrust forward once again. “Can’t believe I went a whole month without you.” Another thrust. 

Too overcome to speak, Miles tilted his head, searching for Rhett’s lips. As they kissed, they swallowed one another’s sounds of pleasure, as if they could consume each other’s souls this way, two becoming one. 

Chest to chest, hip to hip, there was no way to tell where one began and the other ended. And that was how they preferred it. Wrapped around each other wholly and completely. 

Before Miles, Rhett’s relationship with sex was hurried, impersonal fucks that left him unfulfilled. He’d always said he wasn’t the type to settle down, but that was a bold faced lie that he told himself, because he truly believed he would never meet anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. 

How wrong he’d been. Now he had a sweet husband who went weak in the knees at the mere concept of him sporting a beard. Life was good. 

Beneath him, Miles lost himself to the warm press of Rhett’s body against his own. The feeling of that gorgeous beard against his cheek, the side of his neck, the column of his throat. Rhett had essentially turned into an affectionate cat, rubbing his face all over the whining, moaning, quivering man beneath him. 

Miles welcomed it, relishing in the contact, the closeness. The sensations rippling through him were increasing, the heat of pleasure growing tenfold. All he knew was the feeling of Rhett’s cock within him, thick and unrelenting. And then, with just the right angle of his hips, he nudged into that spot that sent Miles trembling against the bed like a live wire. 

“Oh!” He yelped, one hand gripping at the sheets, the other thrown around Rhett’s shoulders as he searched for something to ground himself. 

Rhett grunted, hips stuttering, though his pace didn’t slow. “Yeah, that’s your spot, ain’t it bubba?” He gave Miles a moment to adjust to the sensation, and he could feel the way his cock twitched between them, wet and shiny, leaking steadily with each thrust. 

And it seemed to send forth even more slick as the head of Rhett’s cock bullied against that sensitive little button. If there was one thing that always turned Rhett on to no end, it was how wet Miles got. 

Rhett couldn’t resist bringing his hand between their joined bodies, fist closing around that fevered cock that smeared against the skin of their lower abdomens. At the added stimulation, Miles wailed softly, drunk from the pleasure, already in a daze. 

“Can ya talk to me, sweetie? Tell me what you’re feelin’?” Rhett cooed, strained as it was. 

“I-I-I…” Miles’ mouth started working before his brain could catch up, a response at being given a gentle command from the man above him. It took him a moment to gather enough wits to speak. “Fuh–feels…oh! Feels in-incredible, sir! Not gonna last!”

Rhett was impressed Miles was even able to get a coherent word out. “Yeah? You close already?” For emphasis, he swirled his thumb around the blushing tip of Miles’ cock, drawing a broken gasp out of him at the contact.

“Yes! Yes!”

Offering another deep, deliberate thrust, Rhett ducked forward, mouth hovering over Miles’. “Hold it f’me, just a little bit longer, alright?”

A tearful nod was all the confirmation he needed. So Rhett slowed things way down, drawing his hips back and carefully, steadily driving them forward again. Not hurried, not rough. Just a deep, prolonged connection. 

When Miles pawed at Rhett, gripping his shoulders for purchase, Rhett took the initiative to wrap his husband in his arms. With practiced ease, he guided Miles into his chest, maneuvering them both until Rhett was on his knees on the bed, and Miles was in his lap.

There, they moved in tandem. Instinctively, Miles rolled his hips against Rhett’s with each thrust he made beneath him. A rhythm was developed, a steady push and pull that had them gasping and moaning into one another’s mouths.

Their bodies were attuned to one another, a certain flow to their movements that spoke of their connection to one another. Miles might describe that connection as spiritual, in a way. Rhett, a man of fewer words, didn’t know how to describe it. All he knew was that he loved the man in his arms more than words could say. 

He held Miles a little tighter, a little closer. Sharing in one another’s warmth. Sweat dampened their bodies, skin slick against skin as their desperation mounted, growing more overwhelming still. 

Miles found himself seeking out Rhett’s mouth, but he could hardly find his faculties to initiate a kiss, his mind was too far gone, enveloped in a safe, warm blanket of bliss. Mouth hot and wet against Rhett’s, Miles whimpered, “love you, love you, love you.”

Bodies pressed tightly against one another, with each shift of his hips, Miles’ cock was pressed between the plane of his own abdomen, and Rhett’s. The combination of lube and sweat provided a deliciously wet friction. That, along with the steady push and pull of Rhett inside him was enough to send Miles’ brain into overdrive.

What followed wasn’t necessarily a black out, it was more so an all-encompassing rush of molten pleasure, sparking through his veins like firecrackers. The sounds that left his mouth were pathetic and unrestrained, loud whimpers and squeals with each thrust of Rhett’s cock. Miles had lost all sense of decorum, and he was too far gone to even care.

As he held his blissed out husband, Rhett basked in those pretty little sounds, and he knew, by the way Miles trembled, like a leaf in the wind, that he was close. 

So he decided to help him along. He knew exactly what to say to send his sweetheart over the edge.

Grinding deep inside him, Rhett murmured lowly against the shell of Miles’ ear, “you’re gonna squirt for me, ain’t you, bubba?”

Miles whimpered, mouth open, eyes watering. He tried to answer, tried to say yes, yes, yes, but all that came out was an incoherent warble. 

Rhett’s strong, but gentle, hand came up to cup Miles’ blushing cheek. He kissed him, open-mouthed, tongues sliding over each other. And then he pulled back to speak again, “let go, I’ve got ya.”

So Miles let himself fall, because he knew Rhett was there to catch him. It all came to its peak when that delicious, sizzling pleasure engulfed him, sparks igniting at the base of his spine, the constant nudge of Rhett’s cock against that sensitive spot within him sent Miles plummeting.

He cried out against Rhett’s mouth, jolting in his arms like a live wire as it overtook him. Everything that had been pent up in the time they had been apart was now released. A steady, viscous torrent that spilled from Miles, hot and pulsing, soaking himself and Rhett in the process. 

He could hear the breathless murmur of Rhett’s voice, talking him through it, but the rush of blood pounding in his ears made it impossible to make out a single word. 

“That’s it,” Rhett was saying, words strained as he fought against his own mounting pleasure. “Let it all out.” What a sight to behold, as Miles fell apart. He was gorgeous. Perfect. Ethereal. A heavenly being sent from above.

Rhett cradled him close, hips still rolling upward, even as that tight ring of muscle spasmed around him, sending him dangerously close to the edge. He would hold Miles through his first, and only then would Rhett let himself cum. 

But for Miles, it seemingly had no end. Tears sprang to his eyes, spilling down the warmth of his flushed cheeks, meeting at the apex of his chin. And Rhett leaned back to lick those tears away, cooing at his beloved as he wept. 

“Ca-can’t stop!” Miles squeaked, “th- ah! - there’s so much!”

“Shh, s’alright,” came Rhett’s groan. He allowed himself a glance between their joined bodies, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded as he took in the sight of the mess. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”

Finally, finally, Miles slumped forward, still shivering with the aftershocks as the intensity began to ebb. Whimpering, gasping, he babbled repeatedly, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I’m right there, bub,” Rhett gritted, muscular thighs trembling beneath Miles. “Can ya take a little more?”

Barely able to form a reply, Miles managed a “mhm!”

So Rhett’s large, warm hands came down to grip Miles’ hips, holding him in place as he rocked his own upward. Several deliberate strokes soon brought Rhett to his own end, and he all but crushed Miles to his chest as he let go.

Nose buried into the softness of Miles’ hair, Rhett breathed in as his orgasm washed over him. Deep inside his husband, his release spilled forth, marking him, claiming him. A primal act that only heightened Rhett’s pleasure, and reignited Miles’. 

Miles couldn’t help the broken moan that tore itself from the depths of his throat as that sinful, slick warmth filled him to the brim. There was something so primal about it. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling. 

Chest heaving, pulse thundering, Rhett slowly came down, still twitching inside Miles. A blanket of calming quiet settled over the two, save for their labored breathing. They needed a moment to gather themselves, to enjoy the closeness before it was time to part. 

Rhett tightened his arms around Miles, nuzzling the side of his neck. It was then that Miles began to giggle, a soft, musical sound that made Rhett laugh. 

“Whatcha laughin’ at?”

“Your beard tickles.”

That brought a grin to Rhett’s face. “Yeah?”

Too late, Miles realized his error. “Wait!”

But Rhett had already buried his face into Miles’ neck again, purposely rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin until Miles was laughing openly, shoving at Rhett’s chest. However, the full body tremor that ran through Miles as he laughed was instant, unintentional payback for Rhett teasing him with the beard, because the movement caused him to clench around Rhett’s softening, sensitive cock.

He hissed softly, shuddering at the feeling.

“Sorry, sorry,” Miles apologized, trying to still his laughter.

Rhett shook his head, eyes glimmering with amusement. “S’alright, I’m the one who got you all giggly.” He lovingly bumped noses with Miles. When their lips met, it wasn’t hungry or desperate. Instead, it was tender, sweet, gentle. 

When they parted, Miles seemed to finally register the aftermath of their passion. He glanced down, lashes fluttering as he took in the sight of his pearlescent release, sticky against his abdomen. “Made a mess.”

“Yeah you did,” Rhett said with a knowing smile. “Guess we need another shower, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

Although they both wished to linger a little longer, Rhett knew that Miles hated the feeling of cum drying on his skin, and he wanted to prioritize his comfort by getting him cleaned up first before they did anything else.

“Want your plug back in?” Rhett asked.

Cheeks warming, Miles nodded. “Please.”

What followed was careful maneuvering as Rhett lowered Miles onto the bed, kissing him sweetly to swallow his whine as he eased his cock out. Rhett moved quickly, quick to locate the previously discarded plug. Retrieving a pack of wet wipes from the bedside table, he wiped the plug clean, and then returned to ease it back inside Miles. 

It slid inside with ease, and the moment it was in place, Miles let out a soft sigh of relief. Then, Rhett hovered over him, moving to kiss his nose before he said, “let’s go rinse off, okay bubba?”

They found themselves in the shower once again, and this time, it was Rhett who reverently washed his husband. Few words were spoken as they engaged in aftercare. There was no urgency, no hurriedness. Just the two of them relishing in the intimacy of being together. All was right with the world now that they were reunited, here in their cozy little home. 

Once they were finished rinsing off, they were quick to change into pajamas. Rhett into a pair of lounge pants, sans shirt, and Miles into one of Rhett’s ratty old rodeo t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. 

Sleepy eyed, they made their way downstairs, where Miles dished up bowls of slowly simmered stew. They enjoyed their meal at the kitchen table they had built together when they were newly married. 

Matilda the cat decided to curl up on Rhett’s lap as he ate. 

“Look at her. She missed Daddy so much,” Miles pointed out in amusement, leaning back in his chair, stew long since finished as.

Rhett hummed, lovingly scratching her little velveteen head. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “not as much as you missed Daddy though, huh?”

Miles rolled his eyes playfully, leaning toward Rhett. “Oh, I definitely missed you more than she did, Daddy.” Throwing the name right back in Rhett’s face seemed to spark a fresh wave of desire through him, and with a smirk, he reached out to tug Miles closer, but he was too quick for the cowboy, darting just out of reach. 

“Get back here!”

“Can’t catch me, you’ll disturb Matilda’s nap.”

“You evil li’l thang.”

A triumphant smile warmed Miles’ face as he waltzed over to the kitchen window to retrieve the apple pie. “Will you accept pie as a peace offering?”

Rhett relented, leaning back against his chair. “Maybe.”

“With a nice big scoop of vanilla ice cream?”

“Fine.”

That was exactly what Rhett got. A generous slice of pie with a hefty scoop of vanilla bean-flecked ice cream. A comforting warmth spread through Rhett’s chest as he took the first bite. Sweet, cinnamon-y goodness, balanced by the slight tartness of the perfectly cooked apples. 

“Fuck me, this is incredible as usual, bub,” he murmured around a mouthful of pie. 

Miles beamed over his own slice of pie. He found great joy in watching Rhett enjoy the food he made. “Glad you like it.”

With fondness softening his features, Rhett leaned forward, hand coming up to rest over Miles’ own. “You take such good care of me. S’good to be home with you, where I belong.”

Miles turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with Rhett’s. “You better not leave again, you hear me, cowboy?”

Rhett grinned, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t think I could stand another month without ya.”

A serious look settled onto Miles’ face. “In all seriousness, I love how hard you work to make sure our little family is taken care of. Always know I can depend on you.”

Rhett’s eyes glimmered, heart growing warm in his chest. “Lookin’ out for you is important to me.”

“I know. And I love you for it.” Leaning across the table, Miles kissed Rhett sweetly, hand lifting to run his fingers through that beard. “By the way, you better keep this gorgeous beard.”

A grin spread across Rhett’s face. “Anythin’ for you, bubba.”

-

tagging those who interacted with the post i made about this:

@aratheegreat @fairyheart @hi-res-tm @live-love-be-unique @abbottsdarling

@rhettled @lalalunascope @peachystenbrough @lostglassguitars @spencers-stardust

@em1i2a3 @mywinterivy @good-vibes-and-glitter @lookitsgrim @monkeydoll5

@abbotslamb @fanboyswhore9 @lilmisslexapro @fandomxo @fridamoss

God, your boyfriends really should be more grateful… The metaphorical lightbulb lit up your face as Bob’s powers fried the bedside lamp. Now there’s a thought.

“You're not going to say thank you?” you ask Bob. Even under the heavy, echoing sounds of your thighs clapping against his supple flesh, Bob can hear the affected pout in your voice. “After I got you all nice and stretched out on my dick?” 

The pad of your finger punctuated your point as it coquettishly traced the ring of spasming muscle - at once shutting you out, sucking further inside the black silicone it already feasted upon, and fighting the urge to take whatever you deigned to offer him. Already, his breathing was running ragged. Turns out, the power of whole universes couldn’t keep up with just one mortal and their 6-inch, strap-on dildo. The one that suddenly stopped, the plush but unyielding head keeping him open as it kissed against his hole. Teasing. Promising.

You couldn’t see his face as he ground his forehead into the quilt, trying to dispel the frantic energy that had no other option than to shoot out through his curling toes, and punch its way through his chest, causing his heart to pound like a war drum until you could feel it under your secure grip on his waist.

“I’ll thank you after I c- Oh god-”. Whatever taunt sat on his tongue was swallowed the second you drove the whole length of your cock back in, back bowing like an over-tuned guitar string when the bulbous head hit his prostate dead on. You plucked at him with each tight rotation of your hips, keeping up the pressure on that smooth bump like you could commit it to memory on your clit through the unfeeling silicone. Each press and rub elicited a delicious light nudge against your swollen pearl, not enough to build, but firm and persistent enough to feel like he truly was on the end of your dick. Stamping your claim on his body and soul as you moulded his guts in the image of your cock. No one made him feel owned as you did, like he finally belonged somewhere. To two someones who had made it their life’s mission to learn what he needed, even when he often didn’t know himself.

And after the week he had, you knew your Bob needed to switch off that chaotic, troubled mind of his, at least for the night. It had started with a movie on the sofa. Bob’s tired, heavy head on your lap, followed by your other boyfriend appearing in the doorway, waking from his second nightmare that week. No longer paralysed by the fear that he was an intruder in the relationship, Miles curled up like a cat under your arm, wrapping it around him like a favourite, weighted blanket. Now swaddled by your body, not much time elapsed before they were kissing each other, and then you, their mouths hanging open in a silent plea to relinquish control. Even fewer minutes passed before they were both on their knees, clawing at your trousers until they lay in a heap on the floor, allowing them to lap at your chosen toy as they snuggled it into place against your bud. 

The memory made your hips stutter. A slap against his ass rang out, jolting both him and his bedmate in sympathy.

“What was that? Lil Puppy tried to bark, did you?” 

“No!” he protested, weakly pawing at the bed to push himself up to plead his case. But you pinned him with the flat of your palm against the valley of his shoulder blades. The mightiest hero who had ever lived, trapped under just your fingertips, and the unsaid promise of his reward if he was a good boy. “M’sorry”, he whined. The incremental shift of his hips as he tried to steal another inch inside himself told you he was not. 

Luckily for him, you loved it. There was something so special about watching Bob take his pleasure, instinctively knowing that he was cared for and loved so much that he could play with the power you and Miles had cultivated in him... Unfortunately, however, he really ought to know better than to take without asking.

The second spank ricocheted off the walls. “What was that, baby?”

“I’m sorry!” he wailed, his cock leaking like a tap despite having recently cum. “I wanna be good- I’ll cum for you Mommy-Ah!, just please touch my c-cock. I’m so close, I promise!”

The gasp from Miles was louder than your own at his filthy words. 

“I believe you, always such a good boy in the end”. The praise made him loll his head to the side, your eager puppy desperate for more. However, you knew Bob wanted to earn it. “... But you need to learn how to control that mouth of yours, and until you do, you’ll come with just my cock or not at all.”

The whine in response was all play as he thrashed against you on a final hard slam. Against the urging of every bone in your body, you ignored the enticing wiggle of his hips and scooped him up under his shoulders, plastering yourself to his now-sweating back. The brazen moan as the cool fabric of the lacey bra met his inhumanly burning skin made the extra $3.99 on priority delivery worth it in an instant. What you now sacrificed in mobility, you more than made up for in depth, feeling his whole body release a week’s worth of tension as you rolled him between your hips and the bed as though you’d slowly run him through a mangle. When he couldn’t stretch out any further, you pulled back and did it again. And again. Harder, slower, stopping and then restarting, anything to keep him from finding an equilibrium. With each repetition, no matter how hard or soft you went, the action never failed to tear out a groan from deep within his soul.

And to your side, just inches away, unseeing eyes bore into you, mouth twitching in silent whimpers, encouraging Bob on. Miles moved as though he and Bob were two puppets tied together, the former hotel clerk rubbing himself against the bed with each of your conjoined movements. You felt like a vampire, watching yourself fuck your beloved in the mirror without you there at all. You sped up, and sure enough, so did Miles. You slowed again, encircling your hips, and he limply followed with feather-light swirls against the bed. 

You brought your mouth to Bob’s ruddy pink ear, the suggestion of a canine lightly nibbled on the shell as you huffed, “I think you have an admirer, Puppy.”

He didn’t move, not at first. You both knew full well what seeing Miles’s wrecked expression did to him… Which is exactly why you took a handful of his locks and turned his face to see. Your thrusts never faltered. You couldn’t fully see Bob under his long hair, but you could see Miles’s pupils dilate the second Bob must have opened his.

Your Bunny’s face was frozen somewhere between fear and bliss, like the pictures of holy saints that he so loved, entrapt in a religious ecstasy that always triggered a ‘bless your cotton socks’ look between you and Bob when Miles protested that no, they were perfectly innocent, thank you very much. Bob must have been thinking the same thing, as a soft laugh bounced you up and down.

You went to tease, but Bob got there first. “E-Enjoying the show?”

Oh, what monster had you created? You patted his head like a dog performing his tricks unprompted, rewarding him further with a quick downward stroke to slide his own length across the sodden sheets. The haze that had descended on Miles’s face since his orgasm was slowly lifted as he realised that yes, despite what his nerves were telling him, he still existed, and he was being talked to. You weren’t sure he knew what he was agreeing to as he absently nodded, the tiny motion dislodging yet more drool from the open slit of his mouth.  

“What do you think, Bob, does our patient Bunny deserve a reward, too?”

He whined like he’d been kicked, nodding so vigorously he nearly took your chin out. Miles, to his credit, seemed to realise Bob’s mistake before he did as his breath hitched.

“Okay, okay. Down boy,” you chided, giggling the whole time. You let go of his shoulders and gently eased yourself off him, his heated skin clinging to you like tape… Until that is, you were gone completely.

“No-! No!” Bob cried. “Don’t go, please - I’m so close.”

He tried to find the leverage to push himself up, but he flopped back down as soon as he felt your hand on his back. You didn’t even need to push. Now standing straight again, you cricked your back, trying not to laugh at the desperation emanating from Bob, and the sheer excitement that speckled Miles’s eyes and made him blush. “Don’t worry”, you gently cooed to Bob. You gave a reassuring pat to his ass, your voice taking on a dark tone that made them both quiver. “Mommy’s not going anywhere.”

It had been a new strap that you had bought just a week earlier, one you had casually instructed them to fetch when they got you ready. The faux-leather holster looked the same, and to keep the surprise, you had kept it assembled and ready for your first time. But this toy had one catch. The dildo was easily detachable.

Bob could hear you doing something, could feel it too as the silicone rattled about, but the hand on the curve of his spine told him to keep still. Which, unfortunately for you, meant looking right at Miles. He never meant to. Your sweet, dear Miller would never do anything to betray your trust, but his open face was your schemes' number 1 arch-nemesis. Before you could untangle it, you spotted their unspoken communication beneath you—a tilt of Bob’s head up. A tremble of Miles’s lips, followed by a dart of his eyes between you. You’d kept your thighs away from Bob for this very reason, so you could walk over to Miles with a new strap without him ever realising that it wasn’t you inside him anymore…

Alas, it was another victory for that baby-faced traitor. “No! Please!” Bob urged, wrapping you in his legs, almost tripping you over as his heels met your butt to keep you locked together. Bob tried to push back, to seduce you to stay and finish the job with a cluster of “Pleasepleaseplease”, breathed out with the prettiest, most desperate tone he could manage this side of another climax. But every one of them fell on deaf ears.

“Ah ah ah, bad Puppy”, another spank, imprinting your palm into his skin, healed as instantly as it started to paint his cheeks. “Gotta learn to share if you want to cum, understand?” “Please, Mommy. Mistress-”. It was a low blow, but not low enough. Bob’s pleas became mindless as you finally managed to detach the dildo. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of trying to escape Bob’s lower-body hold on you, you instead simply leaned forward and picked up the thinner, but still long orange toy from within the chest of drawers. Pulling it through the harness’s ring, you didn’t argue back. You didn’t acknowledge misbehaving puppies after all. You just cleared your throat and waited. 

And waited.

Miles suddenly stared in quiet disbelief, beseeching Bob with every shift in his expression to surrender his hold. You smirked. For all his innocence, you thought Miles knew exactly what he was doing. First, he let his lip quiver, then unshed tears glittered under his batting long lashes. When Bob’s legs merely tightened possessively around you, Miles tried to look annoyed, but anger never rested easily on Miles’s shoulders, so instead he scrambled for heart-wrenching betrayal worthy of an Oscar. Finally, he found his killing blow. His cute lil buttoned nose sniffed a couple of times like he was about to cry, the very action that earned him his eponymous pet name. And as Bob’s calves eased for just a moment, you thought you saw Miles mouth ‘please’, sucking in his lower lip as though a whole babble of them was lying in wait. God help you, you have made two monsters. 

Knowing he was outmatched, Bob’s legs fell from your waist. Giving him a fond tap ‘well done’ to the meat of his thighs, you paced to Miles like a jaguar, appraising your next delicious meal that lay like a sweet innocent lamb, eager to be led to the slaughter. Your teeth flashed in a predatory smile as he subconsciously shook his butt, getting comfortable on the edge of the bed and folding his arms under him to hide the tiny, victorious smile from his boyfriend. 

You grabbed the bottle of lube on the bed and clicked it open. The hairs on Miles’s arm stood on end in a Pavlovian response, his lids fluttering closed so he could hear everything you were doing and see it perfectly in his mind’s eye without breaking your rule on turning. You put a generous dollop of the gel onto your finger and asked if he was ready. When the stuttered affirmative came, you carefully reopened him with just your ring finger. The elongated sigh that escaped Miles’s throat, as easy and free as a spring breeze, set off your own Pavlovian response. A fresh torrent of slick leaked from your pussy, flooding your folds and the leather strap that was wedged between your lower lips. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to relieve the ache that was building in your core, but your wetness had made the harness slide with it, rubbing you with an intensity that cheated you of a surprised, guttural moan.

You stared pre-emptive daggers at Bob, expecting to be greeted by a Cheshire cat grin at your moment of weakness. But Bob had other things on his mind, and more importantly, in his ass. The dildo was still lodged inside him, obscenely pointing up towards the heavens in an offering to a God even The Sentry would get on his knees to worship. His hips canted, trying to drive it in deeper to where he wanted it most. You ignored his cheeky attempts to claim his pleasure and softly giggled when his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to suck the dildo back in. But his attempts were all in vain. He bit the duvet to hide his grunts of frustration as the cock ever so slowly started to work its way out of him, his body doing everything it could to shut the door on it, even as his mind screamed for it to be welcomed back in like a dear friend. Just as it was coming close to falling out, high-pitched, panicked wimpers escaped the gag of silky cotton. Showing mercy, you took it by the flared base with your hand that wasn’t knuckle-deep in hotel clerk, and gave it a gentle series of slaps, hammering it in like the final nail in the coffin of his brattiness. Both men went deadly silent under you, one in wonderment, the other in mind-wiping pleasure as you used him as a sleeve to hold onto your discarded cock.

You twisted the dildo, screwing it into place. Only the black base was visible, a cartoonish circle that pulsed back and forth ever so slightly, as though his hole was pacifying itself on it. You struck him, straight on the toy, causing his whole body to quake until it broke the Richter scale.

“You’ve been a naughty Puppy, but don’t worry, you’re still going to cum”, you promised. Your play never ventured into cruelty. As much as Bob liked to test the rules, you always set them again, letting him feel secure while you found ways to ensure he still got his reward at the end. “You just need a lesson in sharing your toys first. Keep my cock nice and warm for me until I get back, understood?” 

His body relaxing into the soft plush of the bed, the dildo now firmly pressing against him but not overwhelming, Bob nodded. Likely biding his time, but you allowed it. Maybe you weren’t such a cruel mistress after all. 

Refocusing on the eager, slowly impatient man below, you pulled out. Your voice sang with a low burr, in case anything too loud could startle your tiny rabbit, “Now let’s see what we have here. Show me that pretty clit of yours, baby. Did watching our Puppy get it nice and wet?”

The best things in your life had been a quiet, accidental discovery. The terrified New Avenger slumped in your kitchenette, holding his breath as he hid from an enemy that had pushed his emotional buttons when his physical ones proved invincible. The hotel clerk who silently fussed with his sleeve as he appeared on your doorstep, seeking your famed help when his conscience couldn’t take the blackmail anymore. You opened your heart to them both, not letting any of those moments slip through your fingers. But there had been smaller discoveries that proved just as great and momentous. The time you realised Bob slept more easily with Miles spooned in his arms after a late night reading session. The lingering stares that told you their feelings weren’t just for you. And the moment your brain decided to break its connection to your mouth when you called Miles’ pecs his breasts, making him cum with just your and Bob’s hands down his pants.

It had quickly developed from then to the present. Now, Miles turned on his side, giving you and Bob a full display of his (somehow) still erect penis, blushing as hotly as his cheeks at the feminine name. The tip twitched frantically in indecision, not knowing whether to strain towards you or towards Bob with a faint ‘come hither’ bend. Luckily, you decided for him. You took his length within your hand, smothering it as your fingers wrapped themselves around him. Making sure Bob could see exactly what kind of treatment well-behaved boys got, you gave it a few slow and firm pumps, spreading the spend that still clung to his turgid flesh and the soft swell of his tummy. The blunt head peeked out of your fist, a timid mouse courageously braving your and Bob’s ravenous gaze, before disappearing again when you collected the pearl of clear fluid and coated him from root to tip. 

You hummed in a sing-song tune, weighing him up in your palm, luxuriating in the feel of the velvety skin cloaking his hardness as you encouraged the blood flow to engorge him further with steadily quickening strokes. “Beautiful, absolutely stunning. Don’t you think so, Puppy?”

“Fuuck”, Bob quietly slurred, his voice barely registering over the slick, wet thumps of your hand. “So beautiful. Think if you keep touching him, he’s gonna pop already.”

There was no meanness behind his words, just simple, objective fact. One that was not lost on you as you felt the telltale quiver at the base of his prick, his leg nearest you opening wider to make it easier for you to reach. Miles didn’t like to push you as Bob did; he wanted to be told what to do and to follow your orders to a T, handing his body on a platter and knowing you’d cherish and protect the soul within. There was something so sacred to him about being able to let go, knowing you’d both be there to catch him where others had done their best to bleed that trust dry.

And because of that faith, he now owned the parts of himself he had once hated. No longer shying away from Bob’s watchful, intense gaze or your honey-sweet voice, that indulged him in praise after praise, he instead let his small, precious smile shine through. It had taken months for his once thin, watery smiles to grow teeth; now they did so readily whenever both of you were around.

The beaming grin tugged on your heartstrings. Giving Bob a small wink, you knead the underside of Miles’s member with your thumb, coaxing another squirt of pre like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I bet he wants to, but he knows he can’t do that without permission.”

“Yes, Mommy, I’ll be good.”

“I know you will. Now, show Bob what we say”, you teased. He shuddered, his lips tugging imperceptibly wider, “T-Thank you, Mommy. Thank y-you, Robbie.” “That’s it, such an obedient boy for me”. You let the words fill your bedroom as Miles breathed them in, inflating his lungs until he puffed his chest. “As your treat, why don’t you choose your reward?”

He craned his neck and gazed at you like you were an angel sent from heaven, taking in your ethereal beauty while he still had the chance. “Want you to fuck me, please. I-I need it, I feel so empty- it aches so bad, Mommy.”

That was all you needed. A tiny chirp escaped his lips as you quickly manhandled him right back into where he belonged - under you and your cock, side by side with Bob. With a quick heave, you took him by his thin hips and returned him to the edge of the mattress, rolling him back to his front. Bob shifted in place, just as eager as Miles to watch you take him apart.

“Open yourself up, let me see that pretty pussy”, you commanded, soft but firm. Ever the dutiful soldier, he does so in an instant, spreading his legs as wide as he can so you can slot yourself in place. Murmuring another automatic praise, you pick up the bottle of lube again and pour it over the smaller toy, pumping yourself, giving your clit a delicate roll to tie it over for a bit longer. Once it’s glistening obscenely under the mood lighting of your bedroom, you finish the bottle, the final drops eeking their way onto his waiting ass as you anoint it for the final time. He’s still drenched from your thorough fingering from earlier, but Miles often needed more prep than Bob, as well as more time to relax into it.

You quickly knelt to place a lingering kiss on each cheek before taking yourself in hand and running the fat head over his crack and down against his undercarriage. His own tip caught against the bed, his balls hung heavy over the side, you thrusted against the sensitive seam of sac before dragging your cock back along the whole length from perineum to ass. Letting him know exactly how much bigger than him you were. Just the thought of how deep inside his guts that cock could reach made him shudder. 

The orange toy rested against his opening. As you expected, it jumped away, Miles suddenly standing on his tiptoes as he did his best to stoically push down the nerves that always reared their ugly head at the worst moments. “Colour?”

“G-Green”, he stuttered.

Needing confirmation, you held his hand as it lay limply on the bed. Taking the hint, he squeezed twice for go.

“Perfect. You’re perfect, always are for us. So tell me if you need to stop or slow down, ‘kay baby?” You knew drawing attention to it would only make things worse, especially when he was already slipping into that floaty headspace where he needed you to do the thinking for him lest his own mind take over and sabotage everything. 

The toy was only a hair’s width over two of your fingers, but Miles battened down the hatches like there was a fearsome monster on banging its doorstep. You nuzzled yourself just a fraction deeper, letting him get used to the less forgiving silicone. Bob always said it felt like the first time with Miles, and as he gripped you in an obscene chokehold, you believed it. His whole body was on tenterhooks, skin tightly drawn across the expanse of his back, sculpted from years of service. Old muscle memory tried to wrestle him from you, standing to attention to take whatever pain he’d been drilled in to accept as a soldier. He knew neither of you would hurt him, even the supposedly ‘unstable’ superhuman, but that didn’t stop his body from trying to protect him anyway. It wasn’t unlike what the Sentry would do for Bob, taking over when things got too much. Better then, to do what you had done with Sentry and bring his body back on side.

Seeing the challenge ahead, you nodded to your partner in crime. You worked quickly together, a well-oiled machine, honed through months of practice. Even from his new home, faceplanted in the mattress, Bob worked his true magic.

“Shushhh”, you soothed. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so well for me, sugar, just need you to relax.”

You gestured to Bob to start. A gentle hand weaved through the curl of Miles’s fringe, slicking it back and out of his tightly clenched eyes. Bob wavered, keeping Miles’s forehead cradled so he could keep his keen, watchful gaze over Miles, looking for any sign he was hiding his discomfort. You saw the roll of Miles’s neck as he tried to burrow his face into the sheets, but Bob was stubborn when it came to Miles and kept him in his line of sight. Bob had been in his shoes once, grinning and bearing everything the world threw at him, not knowing there was any other way to exist. But then you came along. You showed him the alternative, supporting him in asserting and caring for himself within the safe haven of your bed. 

Then you welcomed Miles in, too, and Bob flourished. Under both of your tender, loving adoration, Miles found his path to healing, with Bob passing on the lessons you had learned and crafted together. He wasn’t there yet, but every day brought him closer. And for when he still struggled, Bob was waiting in the wings.

When Bob saw you ease back, unable to penetrate any further, he scooched over. Still on his front, ignoring the tussle of the makeshift plug, he placed a chaste kiss on Miles’s crown, running his fingers through his curls, giving him tiny scritches he knew always drove him crazy. You tried again, and this time you sank in that slightest bit deeper. Not wanting to overstep, you signalled to Bob again.

“Doing so well”, Bob whispered, now so close Miles could feel his warm breath caressing the cooling sweat of his brow. “Feels big, doesn’t it?”

Miles hiccuped. For a while, he felt chagrined that he couldn’t take a cock like the both of you could. Still did, when even now his body struggled over a mental block he wasn’t privy to. But Bob’s encouragement and your soothing hand on his bottom eased a slow, languid “soo big” from his drooling maw.

“Yeah, it is. God, S’not fair, want to see how full you look. Worked so hard to train yourself for our Mommy, didn’t you?”

That got the shattered moan you were waiting for. Although, to be entirely honest, you weren’t sure if it came from you or Miles. The smug, amused smile on Bob’s face staring back at you gave you your answer.

You pushed his dildo back in place to wipe that smirk clean off.

But who could blame you? Just the sight of the two loves of your life, looking absolutely wrecked as Bob talked Miles through taking your juicy cock, his own girthier dildo wriggling as it started to push out again. It was too much. Your pussy throbbed with such force you swore it was swelling around your strap.

“God, Bunny”, you keened, nudging a bit further in. “I-I can feel you on my clit. You’re making me gush.” 

Torturing yourself further, you opened Miles’s cheeks with your thumbs. You stared transfixed. His cute lil pucker quivered around you like it was shy, even as it gradually expanded over the end of the head, finally taking it all inside with a quiet, yet obscene ‘pop’. You took a deep breath to compose yourself before thrusting those couple of inches in and out, not yet going any deeper.

Miles was trembling under you; judging from the pitiful noises he was making, he had gagged himself with the quilt cover. The dirty talk seemed to be working, so as you gave Miles your inch, Bob took a mile. A conspiracy of looks and nods, so complex and instinctive that it would make even a codebreaker weep, your spy bade you forward and back, stopping and starting when he could see Miles relax and tense up. For a moment, you weren’t sure who was leading whom- a moan bubbled low in your chest. You clamped your mouth shut before it could escape.

“You hear that? She can barely keep it together”, Bob teased.

Ah, shit. So much for fucking the sassiness out of him. Maybe you should have let him cum when you had the chance. You rolled your eyes as his narrowed, an evil glint lighting them while his whole face darkened as it always did when he got one of his ideas. 

Miles turned to look at you, but Bob held him in place.

“Keep looking at me”, he continued. “Mommy’s a bit busy right now.” Bob swirled the tresses of Miles’s hair around his pointer finger like a phone cord. He sounded just as casual as an 80s teenage girl gossiping down the line to her friends. Abusing his kindness, he drank you in, knowing you wouldn’t reprimand him while he was helping Miles.  

“You want to know what you’re doing to her?” Miles nodded so vigorously he thumped against the bed like the hind legs of a march hare. Bob chuckled, his eyes flaring brilliant gold as he stared right at you. Served you right for making a deal with a horny devil. “You got her dripping, Bunny. The strap between her looks drenched… Even her thighs are. Every time she’s thrusting into you, her breasts are heaving. They look so beautiful cupped in that bra, I… I think I can see her nipples underneath,” He sounded genuinely taken aback as he raked his eyes over you. “God, Miles - they look rock hard, and you’ve not even touched her. Imagine what they’re going to feel like against your back once she starts to really fuck you. Think if we’re really good, she’ll let us have another taste after?”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The image of your boys from just a fortnight ago, both of them shucking your bra down just enough to nurse from you to self-soothe after a particularly intense session- you collapsed into Miles, another couple of inches locking into place. You didn’t cum, but god, any more of that and you could.

Miles was now fully squirming like a worm underneath you, a puddle of muscles and sinew melting into the sheets. He had to muzzle himself with the duvet, chewing at it like he was teething. You didn’t know who was more worked up, you or Miles.

But it was Bob, suddenly sounding completely broken, watching the debauched masterpiece unfold, who was truly gone. “Shit, she’s drooling nearly as much as you are”, he muttered, more to himself than either of you. You noted, with just a hint of satisfaction, that his eyes were a steely blue once more. But more than that, they were starting to glaze over.

He had done it. Your beautiful, fiendish, ridiculous boy actually did it.

Just describing you had made him dip that incredible brain of his into the primordial soup, sinking it back to the state where executive function ceased to exist and every nerve and thought all led back to one place. He looked completely mesmerised by your dick, mouth hanging feebly open in a perfect ‘o’. 

So not even Bob could resist Bob’s charms?

You were never going to let him live this down.

Reaching back inside for that dominant spark that re-energised you, you felt the flame ignite in your belly. It consumed you. Standing tall over both of them as you got high off your own fumes, your shoulders filled out, your voice rasped into something between a purr and a lion’s growl.

“Damn right I’m drooling. Got my two boys playing so nicely together, all just so Mommy can fill you up as you deserve”. You spanked them both in succession. “You wanna be my good Bunny? Then I’m gonna breed you like one.”

You would swear under oath you didn’t mean to press forward at that moment, but it was like the gravity suddenly reasserted its authority and slammed you forward. All of Miles’s resistance disappeared before the words had even finished leaving your mouth. A broken, guttural cry was the only thing left in its wake as Miles practically seized under you in ecstasy, feet kicking at the floor as the sheer, overwhelming bliss lay claim to every nerve in his lower body.

It was just a blink, but Bob’s eyes flashed gold once more, brighter than the sun and all the treasures of Solomon. He looked so fucking proud of Miles.

“You did it, baby”, you cooed, letting your soothing voice blanket over him like a fussing babe as he caught his breath. Tears of relief rose over his eyelids, running down his flushed, glowing cheeks like a steady, babbling brook. Before they could reach the ocean of sheets, Bob tilted his face to meet him and kissed them away. A low sussurrus of mindless praise escaped his lips, ‘such a good boy for Mommy’, ‘always so brave’, ‘love you, Bunny’.

You didn’t even need to tell Bob to get back into position. Once Miles was more collected, flopping like a relaxed pet rabbit, flat as a pancake under both of your attention, Bob gently headbutted against him. It was just a little boop, two bonded strays wordlessly expressing what their distant brains could not, and then Bob inched back. Lying on the bed, ass to the air, waiting for his turn. Only this time, Miles didn’t let him go. Arms straining awkwardly, they interlaced their fingers in the space between them, Bob tethering the floating Miles down to earth, and Miles silently thanking him. Watching over him, your Puppy looked like a protective, ferocious guard dog. 

Oh, you were going to make sure he got his reward after.

Miles wriggled himself back onto you, chanting ‘green, green’ like a desperate prayer to a merciful God. And after their display today? How could you be anything but? 

Now that you had uttered those magic words, as powerful as an ‘open sesame’ on the entrance of Fort Knox, you slid in and out of Miles with ease. Each gentle thrust was met with another corresponding kick, a flail of his head into the bed, a thumping punch against the sheets. He was already dialled up to eleven, feeling every single atom of the silicone stretch him open in delicious, bone-trembling pleasure.  He sounded almost giddy as he took you in his stride, his excitement reflected back to him by Bob, who looked addicted to Miles’s high as though it was his own.

Their excitement was infectious, making you giggle, “There you go. Such a greedy ‘lil hole”. 

The slap of your skin as your thighs met his sounded more heavenly and victorious to Miles’s ears than the trumpets of Jericho. Both hands firmly planted on his waist, pulling him back onto you as you gradually built up speed, you moved as one being, now in perfect sync as Miles’s body recognised its keeper.

And Miles quietly joined in, even as his mind was slowly turned to putty, he switched off every anxious thought and let himself be led by just instinct and his beloved mistress. Where you gently brought him close, he bounced on you. When you pulled him off, he practically leapt up the bed. “Y-You’re so deep…” he half-sighed, half-yipped. “M-Mommy… More, please-”

The warm hospitality of Miles’s snatch would make his old profession proud. You couldn’t leave him a five-star review, but you hoped that the five quick spanks along the cushion of his bubble butt made up for it. Pulling all the way out until just the tip remained, you opened his cheeks again, watching the way his hole refused to let you go now that it finally had you. He took a shaky deep breath, but before he could exhale, you slammed back in, making him choke on the air as you punched a series of ‘ah ah ah’s from his spit-slick lips. Stuck between a relentless to and fro of ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’, he slinked up the sheets like a soldier going prone.

And each time you laughed, towing him back with a sharp yank and onto the root of your cock. A “Where are you going, baby?” fell trippingly from your tongue, relishing in the chase. The harder you fucked him, the further he went. You pawed at his tender flesh, playing with your prey as he kept squirming away, letting him get so far before you hauled him back, welcoming him back to your claws with a triumphant smack.

You were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose.

Finally tiring your little bunny out, you feasted your eyes on him. If you could think about anything other than the pale twin marshmallows practically begging you to smoosh them together, you would have remembered you were supposed to be aiming for his G-spot. However, they were really, really squishable. Figuring you deserved this much, you groped at them, massaging them like a cat making biscuits as your cock plunged shamelessly between them. That is, until your reverie was broken by Bob’s amused, knowing laugh. The embarrassment jolted you back to reality, and with it, your hips. Miles hissed.

Oh. Right. The celebratory ‘ding-ding-ding’ rang around your empty head as you realised you had hit the jackpot. Yours and Bob’s smirk grew in perfect mirror image as you repeated the action, rubbing against that smooth spot before you testingly ebbed away and rolled back in. A sharp creak of springs struck your ears as Miles jumped, his legs wrenched back towards his ass, clamping under your ribs like a bear trap.

“There! Oh God, there-there-there!”

Your voice was the dictionary definition of innocent, even as your tongue was weighed down with lust as heavy as lead. “Was that it? Did Mommy find your g-spot, baby?”

His crown of curls burrowed into the sheets in a furious nod, his butt jiggling in perfect harmony as you rub against him. Before he could get used to it, your Bunny met Jackrabbit. With a particularly hard thrust, you memorised the spot and bore down on it, changing the angle so you could bully it with a speed even the Sentry would be proud of. “Oh god-” was all he could bargain to as you bombarded your target with hit after hit, a lewd carnival attraction that you’d mastered over months of practice, all for the sake of the prized stuffed bunny you won at the end. When his hitches of breath dissolved into fevered pants, you stopped while you were still ahead and squeezed his engorged, purpling cock from under him.

His feet flailed in the air like a tantruming toddler. “No! Nononono! Please, Mommy- I’m so close. I need it-” 

But it was no use. Miles looked to Bob, pleading with his round, shimmering eyes to say something, to do anything on his behalf. But now that his own pleasure was back on the table, Bob went dumb. Miles didn’t put up the fight that Bob did; his pouting, trembling lip did that for him. However, it wasn’t enough to stop the jostling of leather and metal as you detached the dildo and rested it nice and snug as you had done to Bob, right against his prostate.

Ever the sore winner, Bob lathered his commiserations to Miles swollen mouth before you pulled them apart. Any more, and you were going to have to get the spray bottle on them. You wasted no time threading the dildo back in, quickly ducking down to whisper a ‘thank you’ to Bob’s ears for what he did for Miles. His back bowed at the praise. Bowed even further when you speared him open, rutting straight back into him like an animal in season. 

You didn’t sound much more evolved as you purred straight into his ear, “Been such a good Puppy today, now I’m gonna make you squeal like a bitch in heat”. 

He did so like it was a command - his skin so hot his tears dried before they could reach the sheets. One hand on his shoulder, your mouth worked without conscious thought as your lust took the reins, hips ramming into him like a wind-up toy keyed up too tight.

“Take it - take Mommy’s cock.” you splutted. And he did with unrivalled aplomb.

You heard the shift of fabric even over your obscene ‘plap plap plap’ of sticky flesh. It was Miles, his hands encased in the sheets, twisting them so rigid that he bound his own wrists to the bed. They twitched. He wanted to raise his hand like an exemplary prefect, asking ever so politely if you could come over here and please fuck him into oblivion instead. You felt Bob shake, a shiver he tried to suppress from you and your incredible, mean schemes. He was close.

So you did what Miles’s eyes begged you to do. 

Miles’ expression lay suspended between tremulous anticipation and a fearful, religious awe normally reserved for the prophets as you moseyed on over to him, leaving Bob hanging once again. Knowing you had him sussed, he didn’t even have the energy to protest. You squished Miles’s face between thumb and forefinger, bringing him to look at Bob, so fucked out that at any moment he could turn to liquid and melt through the bed. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? So handsome when he’s all flushed like that.” 

Miles agreed, or you think he did. It was hard to hear as you put the dildo back on and went to work. Who needed yoga when you had two submissive, perfect boys under you? 

And so it continued. You took Miles nice and slow, promising to ruin his pussy for anyone else. His hips lifted to greet you in supplication to your divine beauty for each unholy thrust, laying like a damned sinner in desperate prayer. His body was your altar as you filled him with your presence until cries of ecstasy overflowed from his lungs. His sniffling prayers for clemency, however, were lost as you returned to your Puppy, leaving him to wallow in his own drool and precum.

Bob wagged his invisible tail as you approached. He whined as you entered. And he panted when you pushed him by the scruff of his neck into the unforgiving mattress. You asked your captive Bunny what you should do with him. Bob must have taken a page out of Miles’s book if the gentle, loving smile on Miles’s face was anything to go by, for the clerk took pity and softly asked you to kiss your puppy. When you did so, Miles parted his lips as though he was joining in.

But while Miles had intended you to be gentle, you knew Bob wanted anything but. Claiming Bob’s mouth with a messy French kiss, you pulled him by the hair so you could lap your way inside. He could do nothing but grant you entrance, the wires connecting his brain to body severed in an instant as you nailed his prostate like you were magnetised to it. 

By the time he registered that you were kissing him, you were already halfway through fucking Miles once more. His tongue lolled from his kiss-nibbled lips, searching for yours, absently waiting for when you came back. 

He wouldn’t have to wait long. With a firm grip, you had tied Miles’s wrists together, holding them to the small of his back as you snuggled your hips into his. He raced towards that final precipice quicker than ever before, struggling in delight as you refused to let him budge. You bade him be quiet, like a good Bunny should. When he failed on each and every thrust, you spanked him until his ass was a lucicious garden of blooming red and pink roses. 

You lost count of how many rounds it took, but eventually they both fell into line, completely under your thrall. No complaint was raised. Every order followed. They took the pleasure you gave them, and basked in the other’s as if it were their own. You didn’t even need to tell Bob to put his hands around his back like Miles had done; they were there before you had even pulled out of your Bunny.

Your pussy ached, rubbed raw from the onslaught until it was starting to chaff. Both of the men under your command were a crying, trembling mess of limbs and barely audible gasps and moans as you pounded into Bob with abandon. You had well and truly fucked them dumb, making them drunk on everything you gave, and still thirsty for more. But each rotation was drawing quicker and quicker to a close, both of them hurdling to the edge in mere seconds. It was time.

“You close, Puppy?” you asked, as though you couldn’t feel every cell of skin ignite with the heat of barely contained, exploding stars. 

The weak affirmative nod was all he could muster, bracing once again for the cruel laugh as you pulled out. But this time was different. You reached around and cradled his balls in your hand, rolling their heavy weight in your palm as they heaved with each thrust.

“That’s a good boy”. He had heard it before, refused point-blank to believe your pretty lies anymore. He whined, another fat tear burning on contact with his oven-hot cheeks. You continued undeterred, watching intently for that beautiful sight. The one where every cell lights up in sheer bliss when he knew, beyond all doubt, that you were finally going to let him cum. “You feel ready to burst - gotta find somewhere for all this to go. Where do you want it, baby? You wanna make a mess of yourself? Of us?” 

You weren’t sure if he tried to speak or not. Maybe, just maybe, you should let him finish anyway, but you were nothing if not a diligent trainer. Puppies should speak when spoken to. The sultry, rhythmic squeak of the bed as you pummelled into him was unrelenting. So too was your mouth. You dived at his neck, sucking a hickey right into his pulse point, trailing another right below his ear. When the serum healed them, you did it again.

You blew on it as it faded from view, like a dandelion you could make a wish on. 

You didn’t even have to contemplate what your wish was.

With a flourish of kisses, your voice led him by the leash, back to the edge, every fibre of his being ready to heave himself over at a moment’s notice. “Come on, Puppy,” you hummed–  seductive siren’s song, promising his sweet damnation. “You’re so close. You know the magic word.”

But he didn’t. He didn’t know any words right now, just ‘Mommy Mommy Mommy’ bouncing around his skull like a ping pong ball, destroying every other thought in its wake. He shook his head, trying to rattle his mind free from its grasp. But the word just grew louder, stronger, until it was the entire purpose of his entire being. Bursting from its cage, your puppy, no- Your wolf, howled majestically.  

“Mommy! Ahhh- Moommmmy!” 

It was gorgeous. Awe-inspiring. Your precious Bob, imploding as you rearranged his insides, emptied his mind and bequeathed control of his body over to you. He was boneless. He was completely and utterly yours. You may not have been able to mark his body, but you marked his soul with every kiss to his throat.

But… That didn’t mean it was the right word.

“Pah”, you popped, rubbing his vocal cords like you could push the word free for him. “La…Eh..”  

He gulped around you, frantically trying to work out what you were spelling before his mind went into system reset.

Just as he was losing all hope, his final functioning brain cells rubbed together.

You thought you saw the ‘Eureka!’ illuminate his pleasure-dulled eyes even from the back of his head.

“Pleaasse!” he wailed. “please-please-pleaseee!”

There it was.

A scream queen couldn’t have done a better job as he stretched the word out again and again until it ran out of oxygen. But still, he went one better, babbling through clenched teeth, he begged, “Wherever y’ want Mommy. Cum wherever- W-Want… Oh god p-please, I just wanna be s’gud f’you.”  

You patted him on his fluff of hair. Wrenching him up, his shaking legs gave way under him. You, however, did not.

The Guardian of Earth fell back onto you with a soft, grateful huff, his back to your chest. The hitch in his breath only served to amplify his moan while a feeble dribble of lube leaked from between your toy and his gaping hole. Cock still lodged inside, you frogmarched him to the barely twitching body next to him, needing to move his legs with your own like a child’s stuffed doll.   

Only the large shadow encroaching over Miles’s face gave him any clue what was happening. He didn’t stir when larger, sweating palms pinned him by the shoulders. Nor did he spot that his bedmate had disappeared at all. It was only when Bob’s meaty cock brushed against his sac that a faint spark of recognition seemed to jolt him back to life.  

“Shushh shush”, you soothed, stroking his hair as you came in close. “It’s okay, baby, been so good for us. Let Puppy have a turn with you now, ‘kay?”

He nodded his consent, a slight shuffle betraying his eager, if exhausted, excitement. After how much of a struggle it had been to get the thin dildo inside, you didn’t want to ruin the evening by pushing Miles to take Bob’s thick cock. So instead, with a tap to his flank, you motioned Miles to spread himself. When he did, you took Bob in hand and inserted him between his pillowy thighs, slotting you all in place like you were all made for each other. Even as his spirit ascended higher than the invincible Sentry could fly, Miles took the hint and closed his legs.

Holding Bob with just the front of your strong thighs and a single arm around his chest like a seatbelt, you started to ride the hero into the veteran. The hours of edging had soaked Bob with pre-cum, his cock glittering with such a shine that you wondered for a second if somehow his powers had rushed to his member as well as his blood. However, it was all his mortal self as he stuttered between you, a limp shell of a man, helpless to do anything other than be a conduit for your cock and Miles’s pleasure. You rolled your hips, bullying his prostate so he could return the favour to the back of Miles’ aching balls. The action jostled the dildo in your Bunny, finding new nerves to pleasure with every clap of Bob’s hips to Miles’s and then yours. 

You hooked your chin over Bob’s shoulders, watching Miles flop about like a fish on dry land as Bob kept him pinned just to keep himself upright. “That’s it, wiggle your thighs together. Puppy is gonna fuck them so good, I’ll make sure of it.”

The soft, padded flesh swaddled Bob’s entire length, billowing as you all moved in rigorous tandem. “G’d M-Miles”, Bob snivelled. “You’re- Ohohoh gawd. 

You slapped Bob’s ass, riding him like a bull as he bucked into Miles so hard he saw stars. The panicked squeak as the dildo threatened to come out of Miles was short-lived as Bob collapsed forward, pushing it back in with his torso. You couldn’t be certain, but you’re pretty sure he nudged it in the rest of the way with his thumb. 

It was meant for Miles’s benefit, but it drew Bob’s attention down to the intersection where Miles swallowed both the dildo and Bob’s aching member. Bob wasn’t sure if he or Miles was the toy. Bouncing between you and Miles, he realised. They both were. His head hung low, too heavy to ever hold up again- the twin sensations were too much. You and Miles overpowered his senses, his very veins and the space between his cells, strong and more potent than even the serum. A splattering of drool rained on Miles’s back before he could draw it back.

“I’m cummin’ - Fuck! Puh-please”, Bob warned. He sounded surprised, like he had forgotten such a possibility ever existed. That this pleasure could ever end, that he hadn’t always existed right here between you and your beloved Miles. 

Miles braced himself, trying to swivel his head back to watch that incredible moment where the power of galaxies obliterated into a supernova, collapsing under its own strength with such force that it previously birthed entire solar systems. You waited in delirious anticipation… but it didn’t come. Only a strangled, muzzled grunt echoed through your ears

You thought his cry of ‘please’ was to not leave again. However, as you caught a glimpse of his lower lip, sucked in between sharp teeth as he tried to hold himself together, you realised.

He wanted, no- Craved your permission.

“Do it”, you commanded. Firm and proud, eliminating any doubt from his mind. “My brilliant, perfect Puppy. Cum for your Mommy. Make me proud.”

The order hit him like it had physical force right between his shoulder blades, pushing him into the body below with a ‘thump’. You didn’t let up, shifting just enough to put whatever strength you still had left into pounding him into Miles’s thighs, chasing that climax for him.

Your Puppy’s voice thrummed, a sustained tremolo as whine, bark and howl all converged together and delirious, earth-shattering pleasure, “Mmphfh! Ah- ahhhhh– Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou!”

The room bristled with Sentry’s power - the light flickering on and off, a low hum crescendoing into another broken filament. You had multiple fairy lights dangling from the window for this one singular reason. They clattered together, a tornado of energy engulfing your tiny bedroom, the reinforced walls and floorboard creaking as though they were mere seconds away from tearing at the seams. The lights moved back and forth in a cavalcade of multicoloured beams, preparing the stage for the grand finale.

If there was one side-effect Valentina hadn’t accounted for (barring the consuming Void that nearly wiped out half of New York), it was this.

You laughed in awe? Jubilation? It was a strange reaction, whatever it was, but your body didn’t know what else to do as it was confronted with such a grand and beautiful spectacle. Whole religions had been founded on lesser visions than the one only you and Miles got to witness in the hallowed ground of your bed.

Your tone trembled as you stood before the divine, quiet and hushed, so neither of you missed a single moment. “Stay nice and still, Bunny, let Puppy milk himself with your thighs. Then you’ll get your treat.”

Wave after wave of cum flooded Miles’s thighs, hitting the side of the bed and falling to the floor. The force tore Bob apart; you and Miles held him together. You placed a tender, reverent hand over his stomach, feeling the muscle that always surged like a piston when he came this hard. It thumped against you, running out of sync with yours and Miles’s rhythm, beating to its own drum as it kept going. Bob caved over your arm, going completely limp, instinctively trusting you to catch him like a fallen angel as his soul plummeted back from the heavens. 

You took the opportunity to quickly remove the dildo from Miles and take Bob’s engorged cock in hand. His mouth leaked just as much as his cock as moan after moan flowed like a waterfall, watching in a daze as you aimed him right over Miles’s empty, twitching hole. 

“Go on, get it right in there”, you encouraged, sounding just as broken as Bob. The tip caught the ring of muscle, not penetrating, but shooting its load right into the begging orifice like a hose pipe. “Stuff our pretty Bunny full of all your cum. Want him nice and round so he can’t even think of leaving this bed again.”

Miles peeked up, twisting awkwardly around to watch. He stared at Bob like he was a rampaging mythical beast, caged by your arm and speared by your cock. Tamed, if just for a moment, to breed him like a virgin sacrifice to a pagan god. He couldn't see his irises under his wild, flowing hair, but he knew what colour they were. “Please, Booobbb. Want you-”

The plea knocked another pitiful dribble from his still undeflated cock.

Finally, there was no more left to give. Miles was a mess, streams of pearlescent cum painted his cheeks and crack, pooling in his opening and the small dimple at the bottom of his spine. Individual streaks descended varying, interlocking and winding roads, cascading over the swell of his thighs, the lean muscle of his calves. Some of it clung to his groin for dear life before dripping onto the ruined towel below. A steady drip-drip was the only sound in the room. 

Before Bob could crush Miles below, you slowly and delicately eased your strap out of him, guiding Bob to the bed with all the grace you could still muster. He looked like he was breaking apart from the inside out. You could still feel that muscle in his belly, coiling and spasming as his orgasm continued to wring him dry. Even his cock bounced on his stomach, a still angry red like it was frustrated that it had no more to give. 

Your Bob always got clingy after an intense session like this. Not wanting to leave him for more than a second, you went to move Miles into him, to give him the contact he needed. But Miles was already sluggishly crawling on his hands, dragging his dead weight to flop bonelessly on top of him. Still in the clutches of his orgasm, his arms grabbed for him blindly, like they couldn’t work out where he ended, and Miles began. But ever your golden-hearted, gentle soul, Miles brought his biceps around him, cocooning himself in his own personal heater while he lay like a weighted blanket over him. You saw the instant Bob’s heaving breaths started to even out.

Miles bunted his hand, encouraging him to comb his fingers through his hair, a trick that never failed to help Bob bring himself back to reality with a landing as soft as Miles’s curls. He slurred, head rolling in Miles’s general direction like he still wasn’t sure which way was up, “Mommy’s gonna make y’feel s’good Mi'..”

Miles placed a loving kiss on Bob’s nipple next to his lips. “Did so well, Bo’… Y’were amazin’. Lo’you…”

Bob wrapped him up even tighter, mouthing an approximation of a kiss to whatever skin he could find. You didn’t think a single villain, in this dimension or the next, could ever prise Miles from his embrace.

They had no right to be that cute while bathed in Bob’s cum, but your boys had done the impossible and saved worlds. Your days were filled with tiny miracles… what was one more?

You kissed along each bump of Miles’s spine, the scars of his shoulder, leading into his thick neck. They were gentle, just enough to let him know you were there, not overwhelming. Not pushing, just small affirmations until he was ready for whatever he wanted next.

Catching your drift, Miles met your eyes and nibbled on his lips, “I’m ready, M-Mommy. Can I please cum?”

It was never even a question. You scooped up some of Bob’s spend with your finger and filled him with his essence. Quickly reattaching his thin dildo, you had to kneel on the bed to reach him from on top of Bob. It wouldn’t take much - Miles was dangling right over that edge, but you wanted to make it perfect.

Taking yourself in hand, Miles jumped like a live wire, snapping with electric pleasure that reverberated right under every point of contact with his two loves. His body welcomed you back in, every movement sliding his cock against Bob’s stomach as he angled himself away from Bob’s oversensitive member.

Each thrust produced a filthy squelch. Your cock quickly coated itself in Bob's semen, fucking it into him on every jab, and letting it seep out whenever you pulled back. Whenever there was a lull in that debauched chorus of wet slaps, you gathered up more and filled him all over again. The thought took form, a thousand fireflies fluttering in your core. You really were breeding your Bunny.

Just as you thought Miles was about to finish, he surprised you. He rather had a habit of it, after all. Hips sensually rolling into him, turning his legs into jelly as he full body trembles, he used the last of his strength to limply raise his head and flop it onto the crux of Bob’s neck, landing softly so he could nuzzle into Bob's sanctuary, where the outside world ceased to exist. You had joked that if he could reach yours or Bob’s nape, Miles was always home. And as Bob tilted his lips down to meet him, you thought they both were. In the one you had made together

Miles was muttering something, what exactly, you weren’t quite sure, but Bob’s eyes rolled back, another squirt of cum painting their conjoined tummys. Bob brought Miles’s chin up to kiss him, their uncoordinated mouths slotting into place, more for comfort than arousal. Miles whispered something again, drawing Bob’s attention to you as Miles somehow found the presence of mind to giggle. Brushing a loose strand of hair from Bob’s face, you saw Bob's disbelief melt into something softer. Lids narrowing, he studied you… and then they softened, gold flecks swirling around the blue whirlpool of his eyes, in perfect equilibrium.

“You’re right”, Bob murmured, “She’s close…”

Wait… What?

Before you could ask, Miles pulsed under you. Your hips stuttered as he suddenly clamped down around you with a startled cry. He knew it was coming, but the force hit him like a runaway freight train. Living up to his namesake, he binkied against Bob, legs straightening and his face contorting in pleasure until they flowed out of his eyes, curling his toes, and straightening him out like he was on a medieval rack. He lost control of his body and his accent as he mindlessly moaned ‘momma’ into Bob’s throat like a mantra.

It was beautiful, gorgeous, every other adjective your brain could still think of- it was what you built your life around, to see him accept yours and Bob’s love like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then it hit you. Bob was right.

His steely gaze pierced your own. His legs reached out for you, drawing you deeper into Miles, pushing the toy perfectly against your clit- He smirked. 

Oh, that fucker.

“Come on, Mommy, be a good girl, and come for us.”

And you did. Your vision blurred, white spots dancing around your periphery like spilt ink blots. Someone was screaming, distantly, you thought it sounded like you. The blobs of human-shaped flesh pulled you into their arms as liquid pleasure radiated from your clit, drowning your core until it erupted like a volcano, singeing every nerve and fibre until all that was left were the places your beloved held together. You’d never cum with just a strap before. The realisation was not lost on Miles and Bob as they chanted praise into your sweat-soaked skin. ‘Thank yous’ finding physical form as they suck hickeys into your flesh for each one, ‘love yous’ littering your breasts as they nibbled their way up and over the swell of your bosom… Until you felt it. Not a platitude, or a thanks… It was Bob at first. Of course it was.

Latching onto your breast as he had promised Miles, Bob laughed, lower than even the taunting jibes of the Void could reach. "Only one, Mommy? Think you can do better than that… We were so good, after all..."

Even dear, sweet Miles betrayed you as he eased your strap from your still gyrating hips, humping the air just in case the breeze from the A/C could somehow provide you with just a modicum of the friction you craved. You were powerless to stop him as he looked up from between your splayed legs, blinking slowly in innocent kitty kisses. You saw why Bob never stood a chance as he played the innocent cherub.

“Let Bunny and Puppy take care of you, Momma. Wanna taste you so bad… Wan’ see you squirt for us.”

God help you, you really had created two monsters.

Of course, Todd left no stone unturned. His entire room had been torn inside out in his search. He even interrogated his housemates about the shirt's whereabouts, suspecting a prank, but to no avail. Now Todd was sweaty, irritated, and dreading having to put his room back in order.

Truth be told, it wasn't a particularly special shirt. On first glance, it looked like any other button down in Todd's (formerly) impeccably organized closet. It wasn't more expensive, held no particular sentimental value, nor did he feel superstitious about it the way some of his frat brothers felt about a lucky hat that supposedly made them do better on tests or a pair of underwear that 'always' got them laid. It was just a nice shirt - light blue in a way that accentuated his eyes, sleeves that rolled up easily to showcase his forearms and whatever Rolex he decided to wear that day, with a collar that never seemed to wrinkle even when put through the most vigorous activities. Todd just liked it. It felt good to wear. He felt more confident in it. And it didn't hurt that one Professor Ben Mears never failed to compliment Todd whenever he wore it.

The thought of Ben made Todd glance at his phone and the notifications he'd ignored. There weren't many of them, unusual for a prolific texter like Ben. But before he could press the little banner on his screen, Todd's eyes flicked down to the time.

"Shit!" he swore, tossing his phone back down on the bed and scrambling for another shirt.

There was one appointment today he couldn't miss - a meeting with the new Dean of Student Affairs. He'd have to continue the hunt (and clean up his room) later on, much to his chagrin.

"Whoa, what happened in here?" Tom asked as he stepped into Todd's room minutes later, sharply dressed as instructed and painfully punctual. "One night stand gone wrong? Or really, really right?"

"Not exactly," Todd grumbled, stepping out of the bathroom, still clasping his cuff links. The shirt he ended up choosing was another blue one, slightly darker and with little white buttons at the points of the collar. It was an old, reliable button down, one of his first he'd bought as the president of KNA. Todd had considered wearing his newest dress shirt. After all, he was dressing to impress. But considering how the day had gone so far? A safe bet seemed to be the wisest decision.

Fortunately, he and Tom were so in sync with one another that the other man picked up the suit jacket on the bed and threw it over his shoulder, careful not to crease it. That was Tom all right, always one step ahead.

"Need anything else?" Tom asked, glancing around the room as Todd hastily shoved his keys and wallet into his pockets.

"No, I think I'm…" He paused, spotting the phone on his dresser before snagging it and slipping it into his only remaining pocket - the one on the front his shirt. "Good catch, Sunshine. Let's get going. I'll drive."

The meeting was…less than encouraging to say the least. That combined with lingering thoughts of Mitch's blow up at the pledge pick a few days prior (not to mention the day mostly spent tearing apart his room) led Todd to suggest grabbing a late lunch, his treat, a prospect Tom was more than happy to take him up on.

One perfectly-cooked medium rare steak and multiple beers later, and Todd Stevens was in a much better mood. The good food and cheap beer helped, but it was Tom's company that really helped lift the weight of such a shit day off his shoulders. Conversation was kept light - upcoming parties at other frats, hardass professors, and eventually romance. Or at least sex.

Tom had been telling him about some girl called Annabelle. He tried to act like it was a casual thing, but Todd wasn't stupid. He could see the soft look in Tom's eyes when he spoke about her, making a note to himself to find out who this elusive girl was and see about inviting her to the next kegger.

"And what about you?" Tom asked, turning the topic around so quickly that it took Todd a second to catch up.

"Me?" Todd said, pointing at himself. "Ahh, you know. Just the same old, same old. Meeting some chick on campus who's hot for me or at a party who wants to let loose. Nothing new."

"Really?" Tom asked, eyebrows raising in surprise. "I haven't seen that many girls doin' the walk of shame outta your bedroom lately. Pretty sure it's been a few months. Even before summer vacay."

Had it? Todd wondered, thinking back over the past semester, finding himself even more surprised than Tom when he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a hook up that didn't involve a certain annoyingly hot professor. Guess I'll have to up my game, he told himself, pushing down the strange pit forming in his stomach at the thought of sleeping with some random sorority girl who was more interested in his title and money than in him.

"I've gotten better about hiding 'em," Todd said, shooting Tom a wink. The other man's face visibly relaxed before he broke into a laugh, one Todd joined in on.

"You better not be makin' them climb out the window! You're on the second floor!" Tom exclaimed, still laughing.

"Well, there's that Magnolia tree right outside. I just tell 'em to aim for the branches," Todd said with a grin, chuckling when Tom guffawed, slapping Todd's arm in an involuntary show of amusement.

"Apparently that isn't running them off, seeing how your phone's been blowing up for the past 30 minutes," Tom said, pointing at Todd's phone, which just then buzzed, rattling lightly against the table. With the music so loud and the good conversation distracting him, Todd hadn't heard it make a sound.

"Huh, I hadn't noticed," Todd said, forcing himself to be casual as he picked up the phone and not snatch it up off the table. It couldn't be urgent KNA business or else someone would be texting Tom as well. Most likely wasn't his family; they knew he was busy the first few weeks of the new school year. So that could only leave one person who would message him repeatedly with zero shame.

Ben.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Todd knew Tom was talking, razzing him for being so in demand and blase about it, but he wasn't listening. He was thumbing through the messages he'd left unread, of which there were at least two dozen. Probably more.

Okay, definitely more.

And he sent pictures. Oh my God, what did I miss?

The first text that caught his eye was the very last one sent:

The words Mmm, feisty popped unbidden into Todd's brain. God, he loved it when Ben got angry. It usually led to the kind of sex where they fought over who was going to top. Todd normally won, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he hated when Ben won.

However, the smirk that curled his lips at that didn't last very long. One scroll up and the messages flashed in pieces before his eyes:

Oh no.

Oh God.

FUCK!

All at once, Todd stood up so abruptly that Tom visibly startled.

"Whoa, is everything okay, man?" Tom asked, tone genuinely worried. "You need me to get the waiter to get our check?"

"Don't bother," Todd said, his tone as stiff as other parts of his body were threatening to become. He dug around in his pocket, grabbing his wallet, and hastily throwing some bills on the table. "That should be enough to cover it."

As he grabbed for his suit jacket, not giving a damn if it wrinkled this time, Tom stared wide-eyed at the money in front of him.

"Todd. Hey man, this is way too much for the bill." Seeing Todd's hurry, Tom started hastily snagging his coat and phone, but Todd waved him off. The phone was already to his ear, the ringing impossibly drawn out as he impatiently waited for Ben to pick up the goddamned phone already.

"Give a good tip; keep the rest. You don't mind taking a cab back to campus, do you? I have some urgent business."

Todd didn't even wait for Tom's assent, already headed for the front door, walking swiftly and taking large steps. When he passed their waiter, he gestured back towards Tom.

"Left the money on the table. Make sure he gives you a good tip, darlin'."

And with a wink, he was out the door.

Naturally, Ben picked up on the very last possible ring. As if Todd's heart wasn't already hammering in his chest as he threw himself into the driver's seat of his car. He probably timed it that way to up Todd's anxiety even further.

Or he was debating whether he wanted to answer me at all, you fuckin' idiot, Todd thought to himself.

"Oh, so now you want to talk to me," said an extremely pissy Ben Mears. Todd could practically see him, arms crossed in one of his cozy sweaters, pouting in the way that always made Todd want to bend him over his desk.

"I am so sorry. It has been the weirdest fuckin' day." As he spoke, Todd hastily turned the car on, switching the audio over to the car's speakers so he could talk and drive at the same time. "The meeting with that new Dean prick was fuckin' horrible. I had to reschedule an inter-fraternity meet up last minute, and of course that tightass Richards from Lambda Beta Nu is gonna be up my ass about it like he always is when I cancel. And I didn't even get to work out this morning or else I woulda sent you a gym selfie. I had those grey sweats set out and everythin'."

The silence on the other end of the line felt indeterminable. As much as he wanted to peel out of the parking lot and break numerous traffic laws to get to campus as fast as possible, Todd waited. There'd be no point in risking life, limb, and multiple tickets if Ben didn't want anything to do with him, after all.

Finally, a sigh, the kind Ben usually did while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That does sound like a pretty shit day," Ben said, not bothering to hide how begrudging the words came out. "I guess I could see why you were too busy to answer."

Todd's whole body went slack in sheer relief, his head lolling back against the headrest.

"Thank God," he muttered under his breath.

"You started driving yet?" Ben asked. Todd lifted his head, looking at his phone as if trying to gaze into his hook up partner's face to read his expression. Unfortunately, the only thing that stared back at him was his own reflection, slightly smudged from his fingerprints.

"Uhh, no. Not quite yet," Todd admitted almost sheepishly.

"Good, good," Ben said offhandedly. "Stay there for now."

"Oookay…" Todd drawled, still staring at his phone, now in a state of confusion.

"So, I have a little…confession to make, Todd."

There was some rustling noises coming from the other end of the phone, like Ben was moving something around. When he heard a little groan, the same kind the professor let out when he was getting up off the couch or bed, things started to click. Ben was going somewhere.

"Haven't you noticed something different?" Ben asked, his tone not quite back to the level of teasing that it normally was when he and Todd played their little games, verbally prodding and poking at each other to see what would make each other tick. Todd took it as a positive either way, that Ben was willing to overlook being ignored enough to go back to their status quo. Whatever that was.

"Something…missing?" Ben prompted.

Earlier in the day, those words would've triggered something in Todd Stevens. Anger, maybe, for the literal hour that he spent combing through and tearing apart his room. Outrage, perhaps, for the audacity of a man he was just fuck buddies with taking something of his. Annoyance, definitely, for Ben finding yet another way to be a little shit and get under his skin. But this Todd was too focused on the here and now, on the sound of Ben Mears' voice coming through the speakers, wrapping around him, ever the devil on his shoulder.

When Todd didn't answer, Ben chuckled.

"Just sent you a text. Make sure you actually look at that one."

And with that, the call disconnected.

Perplexed, Todd pulled up their messages again, ready to comb back through them to see whatever missing clue would finally answer the impossible riddle his day had turned into. He expected to see that last text message again, the hot one where Ben threatened him. Almost like he's jealous. The words floated through Todd's mind, but he ignored them, shoving them back down just like he did to any feelings about Ben Mears that weren't annoyance, amusement, or pure lust.

Instead, he found a picture of a familiar sight - His. Fucking. Shirt.

Before he could get worked up into a lather, Todd's brain registered the rest of the picture in little pieces - light tufts of chest hair peaking out from where Ben had unbuttoned the front, a flash of skin that Todd recognized the very plush thighs that he'd had draped over his own shoulders on more than one occasion, the white fabric of the briefs Ben wore that clung to his lower half, exposing…

Todd was dialing Ben's number as he put the BMW into reverse. Unlike a few minutes ago time, the professor picked up on the first ring.

"Yeeeeessss?" Ben taunted. There he was. The annoying little fuck who liked to wink at him when they passed by each other on campus, knowing Todd would text him asking to hook up later on in the day.

"Get your ass over to my dorm, Mears."

Ben's chuckle this time was even richer than before, filled with the kind of smug amusement that never failed to drive Todd crazy.

"Aren't you going to say please?" he teased, but there was something in his voice, that deep, gravelly thing Ben did when he was turned on. Just as that picture had grabbed Todd by the balls, Ben was already hooked, too.

"Now," Todd practically growled, as he sped out of the parking lot, already mentally calculating the fastest, most efficient route back to campus.

The dinging of an open car door sounded from the other end of the phone.

"I'm already on my way."

BONUS:

Divider Credit -> @/strangergraphics

Images in headers (and texts) are not mine.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Rhett

Rhett’s jealousy only really reared its head before him and Harrison got together, the first time being when he was talking to Harrison on the phone and all the sudden Harrison went “Crap! I have to go, I’ve got a date”. When the immediate shock finally settled Rhett was just left with a sinking feeling, he didn’t even say goodbye to his friend over the phone, just grunted out a “Okay” and let him hang up. There last in person interaction had let Rhett to believe that Harrison was interested in him, at least he thought so, but if Harrison was out there dating other people what did that mean? Maybe Rhett had realised too late again and this would be another Maria situation, where he had to watch the person he was attracted to go off and be happy with someone else.

Rhett tried the entire evening to push the thoughts of Harrison on a date out of his head, but unfortunately when he managed to do so with one thought, another one would take its place. It gets to the point where during dinner Royal even made a “Boy I don’t know what’s got you so upset but don’t go takin’ out on your mothers cooking” after Rhett had jabbed one of his baked potatoes a little too hard and sent it flying across the table. Rhett just mumbles an apology and excuses himself from the dinner table, he’s just tired and wants to go to bed at this point.

Rhett has only just closed his eyes when he hears his phone buzz, he opens it to a you still awake? text from Harrison. He quickly types back date go that badly?  Because it’s still way too early in the evening for a date to be over and for it to have gone well. *buzz* zero spark.. but that is just what happens when your elderly neighbour tries to set you up on a blind date XD. Relief floods through Rhett’s body, he instantly feels silly for letting such a trivial thing get him down and he has to stop himself from replying with something stupid like maybe go out with me instead next time, instead going to the tried method of teasing Harrison about having his elderly neighbour as his matchmaker. They end up spending the rest of the evening talking on the phone and planning Rhett’s next trip to Harrison’s place, Rhett is just glad that there will be a next visit, it’s getting to the point where there just isn’t enough time when he goes there, he wants more time with Harrison in general.

The second time Rhett gets jealous it happens right in front of him at a bar. Harrison had gone to get more drinks for the group, bumped into someone and was now happily chatting with them for what felt like far too long. It got to the point where one of their friends just up and said “Alright I’m going to go rescue Harrison, because you look like you are about to shatter that bottle in your hand.” To which Rhett replied with a “Don’t bother him, it’s not like he looks like he needs rescuing or anything” before taking a long swig of his drink and looking over at Harrison who was beaming at the person he was talking to. The friend however was over having to deal with this circus, gets up anyway, goes over to Harrison and taps him on the shoulder, then points to the booth where Rhett is still sitting.

Rhett just has to sit and watch as Harrison face drops a little, morphing from calm and happy to one of concern, he turns back to the person who he has been talking to says something and grabs out his phone. Harrison and their mutual friend make their way back to the booth with the friend making a “I can’t take you anywhere without someone hitting on you, so you gonna call them?” comment. Harrison gives a chuckle and while looking directly at Rhett says “Hmmm maybe, but I don’t think they were really my type”. Okay maybe Rhett was getting worried again over nothing, maybe he just needs a little more liquid courage to actually get to the point of admitting to Harrison that he likes him, yeah he’ll just have a few more drinks then they’ll talk.

Harrison

Harrison on the other hand will claim that he doesn’t get jealous, though every time someone is a little too friendly with physical contact while “chatting” to Rhett after a ride he will find himself putting his arm around Rhett and pulling him nice and close. Rhett just finds the whole thing very cute when he does it, but he’s also thankful because people getting too handsy with him has always been an issue and now he has a very good and very handsome excuse to get out of those situations.

The one time where Harrison was the most jealous was during his separation from Rhett, he was helping their mutual friend out with wedding stuff and the current task was going through all of the RSVP’s. They had been making steady progress when Harrison came across Rhett’s one, he’d been aware that Rhett was getting invited to this wedding, he was Spencers childhood friend of course and half of Wabang was going to be in attendance. But the thing that caught Harrison’s eye right away was that Rhett was bringing a plus one, it was going to be hard enough seeing his ex after 2 years but now he was going to have to see him with someone else? No doubt he could get through it but it was still going to hurt a little. It would be good to see Rhett happy and he hoped that whoever this Miles Miller person was made him so, despite everything that had happened he still deserved happiness.

“Oh is that Rhett’s?” Spencer asked extending his hand to grab the RSVP.

“Yeah.” Harrison responded handing it over “wait how did you even guess that?”

“Because you made that face where you look like a depressed seal” Spencer chuckled then added “Let me guess he’s bringing someone?”

“I do not look like-“

Before Harrison could even protest any further Spencer put his hand up, let out a small laugh and said “Oh it’s just Miles, he’s not bringing a date at all.”

Wait how could Miles not be his date?

“What do you mean?” Harrison asked

 “Look it’s a long story and not really mine to tell, but to put it plainly they are just friends.” Spencer explained “Plus I think you’d really like Miles, he’s helped Rhett a lot these past 2 years.”

“I’ll take your word for it”

Harrison tried to not have the feeling of relief plastered all over his face, but he felt the rising jealousy fade by the second. He wasn’t sure he would have any time on the day to even see Rhett much less meet this new friend of his, since his best man duties would surely keep him busy.

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.

---

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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