Everyone at the office knows him from the sound of his boots when he arrives. He is a new guy, at least from your perspective. Being only a month into his work, he still is fairly recent in the grand scheme of your work. This office, your home for eight hours a day, Monday through Friday, has been your home for months. He is a flash in the pan, a bright and shiny new object that will walk in and capture everyone’s attention. His name is Matty, not Matthew as he made sure to make known in the office, and he is ruining your life.

Black curls pulled back, round-rimmed glasses, and a fluffy sweater - it is his signature dress. You would know, given your room’s position towards the front of the office. You have to see it every day whether you like it or not, because Matty likes to linger around your specific room. Why, you are not sure - perhaps it is due to the water cooler’s placement only a few feet away, or the fact the kitchen is a few rooms down. All you know is that he exists there far more than you would care for him to, sweaters and all, looking like he owns the place he has only known for a month.

Speaking of sweaters, you hate his sweaters. Okay, you do not hate them per say - they’ve never done anything to harm or annoy you intentionally. They’re just sweaters. It’s more the fact that the person wearing them always wears them, regardless of the actual temperature outside. It’s not like the office is cold, either. Sometimes, it’s so hot you have to open up a window to let in the cool air from outside. How he can live with himself and not suffer, you are unsure.

After the first week of it, you thought he was simply wearing them for comfort. Maybe he worked at a place that made sweaters before this, or recently lost a family member who wore sweaters a lot, and wearing them made him feel comfortable in this new work environment. By the second week however, your thoughts changed. You decided that this move, wild as it was, was a call for attention. It was equal to his requirements about saying his name - he wanted to stand out, and he wished to ensure that through those damn sweaters.

The frustrating aspect about his little cry for attention is how well it has worked for him. Cat, a girl who works in sales a few rooms down, will make sure to comment every day about how ‘stylish’ or ‘comfy’ Matty looks. Peter, chief editor of the magazine you all work for, makes sure to say ‘nice outfit’ whenever he can to Matty’s benefit. Helen in accounting and finance brings him shopping when she can. It frustrates you, and it frustrates you even more knowing that he’s successfully gained your attention, too.

Why else would you be so obsessed over him? He has you right where he wants you. The only difference between you and the rest of your office is the fact that you have not given into him yet. You never make comments, you never invite him anywhere, and you most certainly do not acknowledge him when he sits by your office, messing around on his phone or gazing out the windows by the door. It sounds cruel, and you feel guilty occasionally, but you are far from willing to give in. Annoying sweater boy with the stand-out name will not get your attention that easy. This is war, whether he knows it or not.

“{Y/N}?”

Your eyes fly up from your desk Friday afternoon to find the enemy peering around your doorframe. He’s wearing a big, red sweater today with flowers smattered across the front and on his wrists today. His hair is tied up like usual, the only difference in his appearance being the lack of glasses perched on his nose. You suppose he either forgot them at home or tried out contacts. Clearing your throat, you leaned back in your chair and motioned for him to come in. He walks forward and sits in the chair opposite you, and you realize you never have noticed how small of a man he really is - probably due to his large sweaters. He melts into the seat as if it were three times too large. You try to remain unfazed.

“Can I be frank with you about something?”

Chewing on your lip, you shrug. “Shoot.”

“I think, and tell me if I’m wrong,” he says, “that you do not like me. W-Which is fine by the way, no one is entitled to be liked by anyone and everyone and certainly I am no exception, but I’m confused. Have I done anything to make you think of me negatively, or done something to offend you? I want to know so that I can stop. You’re one of the only people here I never talk to, and I want that to change.”

You sigh and grab a pencil to fiddle with as you contemplate which way to go about this. Picking out a bright green one from its container on your desk, you decide that the best way is to lay everything out just as frankly as Matty did. He likes honesty it seems, so who are you to lie to him?

“All you wear is sweaters,” you begin, causing his eyes to widen a bit, “and I mean like…that’s it. You always do, and it confuses me because who the hell can do that every day and not hate themselves when it gets hot or they run out of stuff to wear? Not to mention, it’s such an obvious grab for attention. And you always stand right by my office without saying a word to me and it’s like…choose to do something! Say hi or get lunch or walk outside or something! Don’t just stand here like you don’t obviously have work you could be doing!”

Okay, perhaps honesty was not exactly the best way for you to go about this.

Matty’s face contorts to reveal a billion emotions you did not think he was capable of. Most poignant of these emotions is self-loathing, which you can recognize from a mile away as it crosses his features. You can practically feel his gut churning and sinking as it realizes your words and digests them, and immediately you want to slap yourself for being so blunt and borderline rude. You open your mouth to backtrack, making some quick apology just to ensure he doesn’t cry, but Matty beats you to the chase. He stands, nods as if to accept your terms of his annoying behavior, and leaves. The door gently shutting behind him snaps your heart in two.

You fucked up.

Oddly enough, Matty doesn’t show up on Monday. When you inquire around the office to see if anyone knows why, everyone seems to tell different stories. He’s sick, he’s traveling, he’s got an appointment - none of it makes sense, but all of it makes you feel sick. What if he did something bad because of how you spoke to him? What if he feels scared to go to work because of how he looks? You hope your mind is simply going mad with guilt, but in your gut you can tell something is definitely up. It takes you all night to get to sleep, and when you do, you have nightmares about the scenario.

You really fucked up.

Tuesday comes, and your eyes are glued to the front door in anticipation of Matty’s arrival. Thirty minutes after nine, he thankfully does arrive. However, something is wrong about him in a way that leaves you with an unsettling feeling. Matty is not wearing a sweater. He’s wearing a plain white button-up shirt, with black slacks and black shoes. His hair is cut shorter and gelled back to suppress his curls, and his glasses are nowhere to be found.

He looks normal.

You hate it.

It’s not ugly - actually, Matty looks quite dashing in his new fashion. It’s not him, though. That fact, coupled with the knowledge that it is in direct correlation to your words, makes you feel sick.

“Hey Matty,” you say as he passes by your room with a shaky voice, a product of guilt. He looks up, offers a half-assed smile, and gives a singular wave.

“Hello {Y/N}.”

He leaves before you can say more, walking down the hall to his room in complete silence. No one compliments him today, you realize. Everyone’s quiet during his trip, either keeping their comments to themselves or not approving of the change. It’s deafening, and you feel like throwing up. You nearly do when you realize by the end of the day that he completely avoided your side of the office. When he passes by your office to leave without a word, you want to cry.

A few weeks later, not much has changed. Matty still is wearing his mundane clothing, only changing up the color of his shirts between the acceptable combo of maroon, navy blue, white, and black. He still avoids you, and it is not clear he ever will speak to you again. When he does pass by, he looks sadder. At this rate, him sending in a resignation letter would not surprise anyone.

An email goes out for Secret Santa around the time you start to feel the guilt eating away at your sanity. It’s sent by Alisha, the HR rep. She went back a ways with you as a college friend, and she always told you that if you ever needed anything, she would gladly help. Little did Alisha know how useful that promise would be to you. Closing out the email, you run down the hall to her office. Shutting the door, you sit in the seat in front of her without allowing her time to speak.

“Don’t ask me why, but I need you to ensure that I am Matty’s Secret Santa.”

Raising a brow, Alisha types a few things into her computer. She gazes at you soon after curiously. “Why did you want me to do that, again?”

“It’s bad and complicated and I do not have the time to explain it all,” you say hurriedly, “but it needed to be done. Just trust me, okay? It’s for a good reason.”

“…Even though it was bad?”

“Don’t mind that,” you reply, “just make sure it’s a thing, okay?”

Alisha nods, and with that you find yourself running out her door and back to your desk, quickly awaking your computer. You type in the first website you can think of to get you what you want, and with that you are off. No one hears from you the rest of the day. When Matty passes by your room, the guilt is a little less in your heart. You will make him happy again - you are determined to see his smiling face again.

Two weeks later, you find yourself crammed into the conference room with everyone at the company. All around you, you see your coworkers dressed up in some sort of Christmas-inspired outfit. Everyone has something to celebrate the holiday except for Matty. Matty, sitting in the corner keeping to himself, looks like Ebenezer Scrooge had infiltrated his heart. His body language screams upset, and his eyes barely meet anyone else’s as if to ward off anyone even thinking about attempting conversation with him. You bite your lip and, clutching the package in your hand, hope that your gift will brighten his day considerably.

All presents are put into the middle of the conference room’s table. Even Matty shoves a small gift into the pile, a small red box with a green bow on top. It’s quaint and about the most Christmasy thing about him. When all gifts are set down, Alisha goes and starts to distribute them. To your delight, you get your gift before Matty gets his. Upon opening it, you find a beautiful charm bracelet, with dogs and coffee and Christmas charms dangling from it. The gift is wonderful, heartfelt, and exactly something Alisha would get you. You make eye contact with her and mouth ‘thank you’, making her grin and wink back before reaching for your gift to Matty, stopping your heart momentarily. He takes the box and looks rather surprised at how big it is. Ripping open the silver paper dotted with Christmas trees, he opens the top of the box and gasps audibly.

Sitting in the box is a gorgeous black sweater with red roses all across the front. Matty brings a hand to his mouth as he picks up the fabric and feels it beneath his fingers, its soft texture feeling like home. You watch in awe as his eyes tear up. He looks around the room, begging to find whoever gave him the gift, only to meet your eyes. Smiling bashfully, you mouth to him ‘check the card’ and point to the box. Mind spinning, he reaches into the box and pulls out from under the sweater a little green card. Opening it, he reads.

“Matty, I’m sorry for all I said to you. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you for being unique and yourself. It was far too rude of me, even with you asking for a frank answer. Nothing hurts more than for me to see you betray the person you are deep down and feel awful for it. Please go back to the happy guy I remember seeing loitering outside my office while wearing the most vibrant clothing I’ve ever seen. You deserve to be happy. Merry Christmas - Your Secret Santa xx”

Picking his head up, Matty sets aside his box and goes over to you, enveloping you into a hug that nearly knocks you over. You hug him back and giggle, rubbing his back. He asks you to join him outside real quick, and you follow, slipping your bracelet on your wrist. He pulls his sweater on over his shirt as you both leave the room, already looking more like himself than before. You look him over and smile.

“I knew that would look good on you. Black’s your color, I think.”

“This is the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten,” he says, genuinely gracious. “I…I tried to follow what you told me and it’s been such a weight on my shoulder. Where I used to work, they got on my case for the same thing. They also called me loads of names because they thought I’m gay, which…well, I like both guys and girls and currently have a thing with this bloke named George who gets me all of my sweaters so I have no idea what I am, but that’s beyond the point. The point is, I thought I was going to get fired again because of how I dress. I got so worried. I’m just…I’m really thankful that you’ve given me this. I don’t know, I guess it shows me that it’s…okay. You know?”

You nod. “Matty, I would never judge you for that. Promise. It was just me being annoying and bored and wrong. I’m really just glad to see you happy again. And, if I’m being honest, I’m really jealous you have someone to buy you all of those sweaters. They’re always so elaborate. I spent an arm and a leg trying to get you this one.”

Matty chuckles, rubbing his arm and the fuzzy material on it fondly. “George takes good care of me. He thinks I look soft and happy in them, so he buys me them a lot. He’s a good guy.”

“How about,” you say, “I take you two out for lunch one day? Before the holiday comes around, my treat. I want to make up for everything and figure out more about how he finds these sweaters. I checked five websites for a good one - five!”

“You don’t have to,” Matty says with a smile, “but that would be lovely. I’ll bring it up to him later. Thank you, {Y/N}.”

You smile back. “Of course, Matty. Come by my office any time.”

“Will do.”

On the contrary, Matty thought of you as anything but. He thought of you as, in no particular order, a goddess, a vision he had been longing for, a taste of divinity, and a bright spot that lit up his, apart from his earlier performance, shitty day. You showed up after the concert rocking an outfit that, without being flashy or obviously-trying, stood out. Matty saw you, caught eye of your flare and nature, and well…the rest was history. You ended up on the band’s tour bus with a drink in one hand, a spliff in the other, and Matty’s eyes gazing all up and down you. Truthfully, you had only planned on going home and crawling deep beneath your bed sheets to pass out. This alternate route, though blindsiding, did not exactly upset you. There is only so much that you can complain about when you are taken in by a visibly attractive man you are inspired by to hang after he blew your expectations away with a kick-ass concert.

Really, you could not complain.

“Are you sure you do not have somewhere to be?” George, who you did not realize was as tall as he was in person, chimed in from behind his spliff. “Really, you do not have to stay with us if you don’t want to.”

“Hey,” Matty chided, “don’t go on telling our guest to leave! She’s having fun, right love?”

You chuckled, blowing clouds of smoke in their faces. They were a bickering duo, that was for sure. “It’s alright guys, I’m doing just fine here. Thank you for your concern though, George. I appreciate it.”

That was a win enough for George, for after giving you a sweet smile, he changed his expression to a more teasing one and flipped off Matty. Matty rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, {Y/N}, make yourself at home here. Our bus is your bus.”

“At least for the time being,” Ross replied, earning a giggle from George. Blushing, you put a hand on Matty’s shoulder and smiled.

“Thanks, Matty.”

The five of you, later six once John got done washing up, sat and chatted for hours, drinking and smoking until the entire bus smelled like weed and various hard liquors. Adam was the first to turn in, followed by Ross and John, and eventually George. Matty, undeniably, was determined to stay up until you were either fast asleep or safely on your way home. As touching as it was to begin with, the act went up tenfold with the introduction of alcohol and weed into your system. It was not long before you began to be a little more-than-friendly with Matty in thanks, sitting on his lap and giggling at his every word.

He, equally as intoxicated, hardly was opposed.

“I-I know you said earlier that you were not exactly missing out on anything,” he drawled, playing with your hair, “but – would you like to stay here a little longer?”

A twinkle came to your eye. “What am I, a groupie?”

Matty laughed. “No, but you’re beautiful. I’d hate to have only given you a few cheap drinks and some weed from this night. You deserve more than that. I’d give you my heart truthfully, if you’d take it.”

“Was that a drunken confession, or are the drugs making you feel some sort of way?”

Matty’s returned smile rendered the stars in the sky dim. “They are only words. Though, I would love nothing more than to prove them to you with more meaningful actions.”

“Oh? And what are those?”

“I’ll show you.”

Show he did. In moments, his lips were on yours, fierce and pressing and enough to send you nearly leaning back off your seat. His hands found their way into your hair, tugging, begging you to believe his words. When he pulled back, you were breathless. His face had a wicked look to it, with his pupils dilated and his hair falling out of place and into his eyes. You giggled when you got your breath back because frankly it was all you could do. It made Matty laugh.

“Shush love, let’s…let’s see where there is a better place in this bus. Don’t want anyone to get nosey and interrupt our fun.”

Nodding, you let Matty guide you from the front to the back, where you saw both his empty bunk and the makeshift bathroom. Though it was the comfier option, the bunk hardly looked capable of fitting one person, let alone two. George’s dangling leg above it proved that much to be true. The bathroom seemed to be the only option. You thanked your lucky stars you were not sober enough to get grossed out about it.

He shut the door behind you once the both of you were inside the space. It was not terribly cramped, though it was far from preferable. There was a counter, a toilet, and a shower. Shower sex did not exactly seem smart given the state of the both of you, so Matty made the quick decision that it was off limits. He much rather fancied trying out what the counter provided.

Matty’s hands found your hair again, backing you up against the countertop with a deep kiss. One hand dropped to undo your shirt, a button-up that, though very lovely, needed to go in his mind. It found a new home exploring your breasts. All moans of yours were suffocated against his lips. Your hands in the meantime found a home rubbing his chest, his arms, and wherever you could feel. You found out quickly that such actions made Matty excited. The more excited he was, the better he would caress your body, or kiss at your lips. One particular southern trip of your hands to the hem of his pants resulted in a hickey, bright and intense, pressed perfectly on your neck. Matty had to cover your mouth to hide the moan that gave you.

With your shirt gone, Matty moved to your pants and tugged them off. As they hit the floor, his lips flew to your underwear, where they placed open-mouth kisses to the fabric. You gritted your teeth at the sensation. Your hands, now free from his body, made quick work of diving into his hair.

His tongue stayed there, licking against the fabric and ghosting you where you needed him most, until you could barely take it anymore. The real breaking point came when you slammed your fist against the countertop and, not only caused yourself a dark bruise, but knocked over some of their toothbrushes in the process. It made you both have to stifle giggles, but it was far too close of a call to allow the teasing to continue. This drunken hookup, or ‘exchanging of hearts’ as Matty put it, needed to get underway, and fast.

Diving into the drawer to your left, Matty found a box of condoms. Undoing his jeans and his underwear in a grand reveal to your eyes, he put one on and stroked himself, releasing probably a lot of pent-up tension in the process. You licked your lips, and he dove in for a kiss. Moments later, your underwear was slid down and tossed across the small room. Matty grinned.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

Shaking your head, you smiled back. “Though, this is the first time I’ve drunkenly hooked up with someone in the back of a tour bus.”

“Hmm, so I am your first.”

You giggled. “In that way, yes.”

“Brilliant.”

The actual schematics of your little ‘adventure’ were a bit hard to figure out at first. Hazy minds did not allow for the smoothest times in deciding what position was comfortable in a small compartment like a tour bus bathroom. However, after a few embarrassingly funny and somewhat uncomfortable misfires, the two of you came up with a somewhat comfortable position. The countertop, though a bit sharp without a curved edge on the end, could be made comfortable to bend over given the applying of a few towels. It also, when bent over on, did not dangle you above ground. So, Matty took you like that, bent over on the counter with towels aiding you. Was it the best scenario? Probably nowhere near so. It worked, though. That was enough for two very passionate and drunken lovers like Matty and yourself.

Such a position had its benefits. Matty’s thrusts went deep and quick. He had perfect access to you so that he could be able to hold your hair and be ruthless with his movements if he wanted to. This, though certainly a wild ride, was like heaven for you. You made your lips near bloody from having to suppress your moans courtesy of him. The sting made you feel electric.

After a few minutes, both of you were close. Matty had his hand over your mouth to silence you, and his moans were being suppressed against the skin of your back. His hands gripped your hips so hard that each thrust shook you, rocking you against the counter in a way almost brutally pleasurable. You knew there would not be much time where this could last. Not when everything felt so good and you felt so alive.

Sure enough, Matty sped up, and his thrusts became less precise. He also grunted against your skin, his heart racing to meet yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your gasps against Matty’s hand could only be muffled so much. If there was a time where those outside would hear your escapade, it had to have been then, you were sure of it. A few more gasps here and there, followed by more pained grunts, and suddenly everything hit its peak. Matty collapsed against you, his moan echoing through the small room. You too moaned as the pleasure hit, though it was caught by Matty. He gave a few more thrusts, and then he was done for. Pulling out, he sat you up and smiled. You gave him a lazy smile back.

“You’re incredible.”

Giggling, you cupped his face. “No, you are.”

“I’d keep up the fight, but you’ve exhausted me, love.”

“It’s alright,” you said with a kiss. “I’ll take it, by the way.”

Matty furrowed his brow. “It?”

“Your heart,” you replied, looking into his tired eyes. “If it’s still up for the taking, I’ll take it. As much as I loved the booze and weed, I see what you meant now about there being more to offer, and I’m perfectly fine if you are with taking advantage of that.”

Beaming, Matty brought you back in for another kiss, this one more tender than before. “I’d love nothing more. Listen, let’s get cleaned up, and then we’ll find a way for you to sleep here tonight. We leave tomorrow night after our second concert. In the morning, I want to take you out for breakfast and decide how we can get you to come along and visit more often. Make this a bit more of a permanent setup, you know?”

Running a hand through Matty’s hair, you nodded. “Sounds like a fantastic plan.”

Suddenly, a knock came to the door. You gazed at Matty, who gazed back at you with a similarly spooked expression. Another knock came.

“Are you two guys done fucking in there? I’ve gotta’ piss.”

George.

Running into the small dining room of his home, Matty expected to find a disaster scene. You rarely shouted, and when you did, it usually came from some catastrophe. Often, you spilled something. Bad. Occasionally, important things would be broken. Very rarely, you managed to really ruin a lot. One time in particular, a poor chair of Matty’s ended up in literal pieces across his floor. You never told him how exactly it turned out that way - Matty did not really look like he wished to know. In fact, he looked so incredulous as to how it happened that any explanation would have been underwhelming to him. You denied telling him, for his benefit.

Matty expected something of that brand to meet his eyes. However, he approached a scene with no destruction at all. You were sitting on the couch with your legs pulled to your chest, your hair pulled up in a bun, one of his black and red t-shirts on, and mismatched ankle socks. On the television was what appeared to Matty to be a video game - Halo, to be exact. With no controller in your hands however, he was left confused. Walking up behind you, he leaned down and gave you a kiss to say hello. Still shaken from your ‘GODDAMMIT’ scream, you do not follow it up with more.

“What was all that about?”

“This goddamn favorite show of mine,” you grumbled, pulling your legs even closer as Matty sat at your side. “I missed a few episodes while we were away on tour, and I just caught up to basically have my mind blown and fucked with all at once.”

Matty raised a brow. “Show? Babe, you do see that that’s a video game too, right?”

Sighing, you face him. “It’s a show that uses video game characters and settings. It’s called Red vs. Blue, and it will literally consume your life.”

“Oh,” Matty chuckled, “will it now?”

“Yes,” you replied with a pout, stopping the TV from moving on to a different series. “It’s got multiple seasons, and they all fuck you up.”

“I’m still lost at how a show about video games will cause that.”

“It’s about these two teams, red team and blue team,” you replied, intent on changing Matty’s mind. “The show basically follows them as they encounter shit and meet new people and basically fuck themselves over on a constant basis. The only issue is that around season six, they decide to pull shit on you like making you find out someone you’ve known the entire series is a completely different person than you thought they were, and your whole freakin life is a lie.”

Matty chuckled. “All that happens in a video game?”

“Matty, it’s not a video game, it just takes place in a video game setting.” You sighed and laid your head on your knees. “It was really funny for the first five seasons.”

“How many seasons does this show have?”

“A fuckton too many for my sanity.”

Laughing, Matty reached over and wrapped his arm around you. “I think it’s cute how you are obsessing over this. So much for a video game.”

“I wouldn’t be messing with me about being obsessive over a video game, Mr. ‘I have a Mortal Kombat tattoo on my arm’,” you said to him slyly, giving him a look. Matty went red, and his hand reached to cover the tattoo up the best he could. It made you smile.

“At least I play the game.”

“You think I couldn’t kick your ass at Halo?”

“I think,” Matty said, kissing your cheek, “that I would love to see you try.”

You jumped up out of his arms and folded your arms before him. He looked up at you with a smirk. “Break out your controllers, Healy. I call blue team.”

“Fine by me. Red team looks more rock’n’roll anyway.”

“Red team sucks in RvB.”

“Oh?” Matty stuck his tongue out at you. “Better prove it to me then.”

“Fuck off, you ass.”

“That’s a lot of talk from a blue team loser.”

You sighed as Matty fussed with his curls. Bad news had been all over the media all day, and after even just a brief scroll through his phone, Matty was down. He was down about it all, about all the fighting and the anger and heartache. You could see it in his face. His eyes, usually bright with wonder, looked sullen and sunken in, a speck of anger tinging them. His hands, usually so soft and comforting, were clenched tight enough on the counter to turn his knuckles white. His lips, usually turned up or bitten in concentration were snarling, disgusted and fraught with trouble. It was not the Matty you were used to. It was a darker Matty, a hopeless Matty. A Matty who was losing grasp of his world and in need of help remembering its worth and goodness, like many others also faced with the pain. Gentle, you reached out and caressed his arm.

“Hey...hey, it’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” he grumbled to himself, sounding ages older than he had moments before. You frowned at him, unhappy for him and from seeing him this way. Going up to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. You felt him relax a bit into you, a hand leaving the counter to rub at your arms. However, he was not fully relaxed. He needed more. That was when the perfect thought hit you: a bath.

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

“A bath?”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll get some incense going, maybe a few candles? Whatever you want.”

Sighing, Matty turned around so that he faced you and kissed your forehead. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Follow me then, love.”

Thus, your plan came to action. Matty trailing behind you with his hand in yours, you brought him over to his bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, you left him to go over to the bathroom, the bright pink room you originally thought gaudy but now loved as so incredibly, inherently reminiscent of your boyfriend. You started running the water and let the steam fill the air. After digging around elsewhere, you found some incense and moved to light it, the soothing smell dispersing wonderfully. That was when you decided to grab Matty from the bed.

Guiding him, you instructed him to stand in front of the tub, still filling up behind him. He watched as you went and delicately took off each article of clothing on him, folding it and setting it on the toilet seat. You hurried back and, after shutting off the water, took his hand. Matty eased himself into the water, the bubbles you poured surrounding him comfortably. You watched his stress melt away with each inch he slid down, until finally his shoulders fell back and he let out a glorious sigh. It brought a smile out of you.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmm.”

“Want me to help wash your hair?”

“That would be lovely.”

“Alrighty then.”

Grabbing a cup sitting on his ledge, you got a good amount of water inside it and then gently poured it through his black curls. Matty let out a lovely hum at the feeling, the warmth trickling through and soothing his nerves. You reached and got a good amount of shampoo for him. Lathering it through his curls was your favorite. His eyes squinted shut, and little happy noises slipped through his lips. His curls were so soft too, little ringlets that fell flat on his face once lathered and heavy. You loved all of it, especially being the cause of it. Pouring the water to rinse them out, you smiled.

“See love? All it took was a little love to cheer you up.”

“I see.”

“That’s what it’s always good to turn to when you are sad or when the world makes you hurt,” you whispered, rinsing his hair more. “Love. The Beatles had a whole song about it.”

Matty smiled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m right.”

“Well, Miss Right, care to make my night even better by joining me? To make me feel better, of course,” he added with a pout. You giggled, splashing some water at him.

“I suppose I could join.”

“Yes.”

“Promise me one thing, though.”

“I promise I’ll not let things get me too down.”

“No,” you said with a grin, booping his nose, “promise you’ll wash my hair, too?”

“Screw it, you’re Miss Ridiculous now.”

“Matty!”

“Shush Ridiculous, get into the tub.”

It was a given. Putting together four boys who had known each other for nearly fourteen years, their best friend saxophone player, and their lead singer’s girlfriend into a bus for weeks on end was a recipe for chaos. A matter not of ‘if’ but ‘when’ it would occur. You joined with this fully known and accepted. And you were excited for anything that came your way.

‘Anything’ came your way about a week into the tour, when everyone was starting to get a bit stir crazy, but still was excited enough to not channel it into slumming it in the bus in exhaustion. Patron, Gin, and wine sat laid out across every counter surface. One of Drake’s more rap heavy songs was playing loudly from portable speakers, just barely audible over the horrid and comical stylings of the very drunk duo of Matty and George. As they tried and failed to rap, Ross and John sat near the kitchen area and did shots, as many of them as they could do to drive them to the point where the boys were not as annoying as they seemed. Adam sat between them and the drunken idiots, desperately trying to tune his guitar, but laughing at the boys when their voices grew ghastly. You sat nearby Jamie, who was shaking his head the whole time and probably questioning how he became the manager of a group of wild idiots like these, looking like a properly embarrassed parent. On any other night, you would have joined right alongside him in his embarrassment. However, on this one, you were sleep deprived and laying on your couch, with way too much tequila in your belly and your boyfriend now attempting to dance along to Drake’s newest single. How could you not laugh at that?

The giggles continued as Matty and George consumed even more alcohol and became even bigger Drake fans. You nearly laughed until your sides began to hurt as the boys resorted to dancing in each other’s arms as a means to keep the other from losing their shaky balance and falling over. They looked like a proper couple, even more so than you and Matty, and that was hilarious to you in your slightly less drunken state. You nearly began a chant for them to kiss when Matty, after reaching to take a swig from the bottle nearest him and scrunching up his face from the taste, began yelling.

“HEY! HEY, SHUT UP, ‘M TALKING! S-SHUUUSH!”

Matty waited for the world to stop before going on - George shut off the music, Adam set his guitar aside, Ross and John...well, they continued to drink, just more quietly, and Jamie merely looked up from behind the hand that had been shielding his eyes to the ordeal to gaze at his very crazy partner-in-crime. You sat up, legs crossed and eyes as attentive as they could be. Matty giggled to himself, and then began to finally speak.

“I’ve gotta’ ‘nnouncement to share with you.” He grinned at everyone, leaning his hand on George to steady himself. “I’m,” he spoke, pausing to burp to the laughter of John and Ross, “hungry.”

“Fucking hell, that’s what you stopped us for?” George grumbled, moving away so that Matty had to scramble to not fall. “Make some damn noodles or something, don’t...don’t go stopping the party.”

“Ya’ don’t understand,” he pouted, stumbling over to sit by you and curl up like a small child, “I don’t wanna’ make noodles. I...I want to go out and eat.” You pet his hair, offering up comfort in this trying time of his.

“Well here’s the thing Matthew,” Jamie cut in opposite you, earning a small raise of the head from Matty, “we can go out, but it’s nearly three in the morning. The only places that would be open are breakfast places. Unless you’re fine with going to a pancake house, then I think we’re screw-”

“PANCAKES!”

As if Jamie said the magic word, Matty jumped up and out of his pouting spree. Leaving your side, he stumbled over to the bottle of Patreon and, upon grabbing hold of it, held it up as if he were going to make a toast. The rest of the bus looked on, curious as to what else could possibly leave his mouth now. You giggled, reaching up to cover your mouth and disguise it with your hand.

“Well, let’s go get some fucking pancakes now, yeah? YEAH?”

You watched in amusement as the boys all conceded to his wishes, agreeing that pancakes would be pretty good even at three in the morning. Even the more sober Adam enjoyed the thought, nodding along before grabbing his guitar once more. You hardly could complain, either. A big stack of pancakes sounded mouthwatering good. You were not sure that you had eaten a proper home-cooked kind of meal since you left on tour with the boys. Anything, even pancakes, sounded fantastic. Slamming his hand on the counter, Matty turned and faced the direction of their poor driver.

“HEY DRIVER! TO THE PANCAKES!”

The driver, the trooper that he was, gave Matty a thumbs up up front. Matty cheered with a loud ‘WAHOOOO’ before spinning around and telling George to turn the music back up again. His eyes caught on you at this moment, catching you mid-giggle from both the way Jamie looked positively mortified around the driver and the way Matty looked seconds from toppling over. Swaying his hips, he came your way and brought your face into his hands.

“Somethin’ funny to ya?”

“Yeah,” you replied, giggling some more, “you, you dope.”

“Yeah well,” he muttered, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours, “you’re a dope. But you’ve got a pretty face. I like that.”

“You using your lyrics to flirt with me, Healy?”

“I’ll use whatever I want when I’m about to kiss a pretty girl like you,” and sure enough, he did just that, leaning in to capture your lips and send your stomach in knots. You both sat there for a bit kissing as the bus changed course to find the nearest pancake place - a Denny’s off the side of the road. When it did, Matty broke off to take you by the hand and drag you out, because he just had to be the first one to get his pancakes. The rest of the band trickled in after you both, Jamie looking already apologetic for the state of them all as he trailed in last. Matty ordered a tall stack of six buttermilk pancakes, while you ordered three. Adam got two and a side of eggs, George got five chocolate chip pancakes, and Ross and John decided to split a stack of four together. Jamie went with one, merely out of desire to facilitate getting them out of the place as fast as they could. It was a lost cause the moment they stepped into the shop drunk, though.

“This is so good,” Matty somehow mumbled through a rather large bite of his pancakes. You giggled as you drank your order of milk, sliding a piece around on your fork through syrup.

“Eating well, babe?”

Matty replied with a grunt back. He was too invested in the deliciousness of his food to form proper sentences, especially when so drunk. Also hard for him to do was eat all of his food without getting distracted. He got through two pancakes before standing up and, without a word, heading to the door. Everyone gave each other a look before you went hustling after him, trying your best not to fall. You caught him just before he exited, grabbing his arm with a huff.

“And where are you going?”

“Shower,” he hummed, swaying a bit. “Gotta’ freshen up.”

“But your pancakes.”

“They box em up, yeah? Have them do that.”

With a sigh, you brought Matty in for a hug. “Fine. Don’t trip goin’ up, yeah?”

Matty smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling back. “Yeah.”

With that, he was off, wobbly but still aiming for the bus. You watched until he made it successfully inside before heading back in and asking the poor waitress still up to serve you all to get a box for his. Thankfully, there was one, which allowed you to stuff the delicious food without letting it go to waste. After it was all packed away nicely, you brought it over to George and Adam’s booth and finished the rest of your stack there. John and Ross happily ate theirs together, giggling to themselves as Ross tried to take a picture of them sharing to post online. Jamie ducked out soon after Matty, probably heading to the bus to make sure his superstar drunk didn’t fall in the shower and make him regret this decision to stop even more. It was all laughs and fluffy pancakes for the next fifteen minutes or so. And then, a panicked Jamie appeared at the door.

“I don’t care who does it, or how fast of a runner they are, but one of you needs to come help me get Matty.”

You shared a glance between George and Adam before turning to Jamie. “What’s wrong, is he okay? Why is he running?”

“He’s-”

“WAHOO!”

That was when you saw him: hair shaggy and wet, his face giddy and drunk, and his body as bare as the day he was born, running around like a maniac outside the bus and nearly toppling over from his laughter and alcohol. George broke into a fit of giggles, while Adam jumped up and ran to Jamie’s aid. Ross and John shared a look before laughing as well. You smirked, shaking your head.

“He’s a goddamn lunatic.”

And that he was. Not even with the addition of Adam was Matty able to be detained. He was so drunk and so silly that he did not wish to be able to be caught, and tapped into some reserve adrenaline of his to be able to do so. You watched him through the window running around with a blush, shaking your head. George by that point fell into full out laughter, clutching his sides.

“Alright you three, here’s what’s gonna’ happen,” you spoke, getting their attention away from your drunk, naked boyfriend behind you. “Ross and John? See if you can box up whatever is left and tip the shit out of the waitress. I’m going to pay for the food. George...make sure you get this shit on video before you go and help them actually wrangle him in, yeah?”

George grinned. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Taking out his phone, George ran off to do just that. As Ross and John followed your instructions, you went and paid for everything, while also ordering a side of tater tots because well...it was three A.M., you still felt a bit drunk, your boyfriend was publically nude running outside a Denny’s, and you wanted some goddamn tater tots. Procuring them, you thanked the waitress kindly for not taking any pictures of your boyfriend and spreading them anywhere, slipped her more money, and then stepped outside to sit on the curb. George was still recording the scene. Jamie and Adam were screaming after Matty as he ran around the bus laughing, his curls bouncing up and down as he did. You pulled out your phone and began recording as well as you ate. George turned his phone to you.

“And how do you feel knowing that you are currently dating that?”

You threw a cheeky grin to the camera. “Lucky as fuck.”

“And why’s that?”

“‘s got a cute bum,” you replied, plain and simple before popping a tot in your mouth. George turned to Matty as if to check your words, nodded, and then turned the camera back to the boy.

“Suppose you’re right.”

For the next ten minutes, you sat watching Matty, so carefree, so drunkenly silly, running around the parking lot dodging Adam and Jamie. Eventually, George stepped in and tackled Matty, his bigger stature actually holding him in as he tried to break free. He carried him to the bus, and when you all collectively filed back in with boxes and a now half-finished order of tater tots, Matty was found lying on his bed giggling up a storm as George laughed beside him. You walked over to him and did the same, reaching to pull a blanket over Matty’s lower half.

“Silly boy.”

“I am so fast!”

“What happened to your shower?”

“Took it,” he said, grinning up at you. “Had more Tequila after. It was yummy.”

“How much Tequila, Matty?”

He giggled. “A bunch!”

“And Jamie didn’t stop you?”

“Jamie,” Jamie grumbled, wiping sweat off his head, “was busy trying to apologize to our driver for having to stop because somebody wanted pancakes in the middle of the night.”

“They were good pancakes!”

You giggled and put a finger to his lips. “They were. How about I get you some water and pills and then you go to sleep? I’ll join you after my own shower, sans the streaking.”

Matty smiled wide. “Yeah. Wanna’ cuddle.”

“Of course. Oh and Matty?”

“Yes?” he asked, watching you start to go.

You paused and smirked. “You have a cute bum.”

It was a lesson you learned the first night you joined the band on tour. You had already been made aware by Matty that, because of the fact your joining was so spur-of-the-moment, you would have to be sharing the room with the duo of him and George. That frankly was not an issue to you when he brought it up, because you loved George. He was Matty’s best friend and made him so happy. As Matty’s girlfriend, you appreciated anyone in his life that could do that. Matty deserved all of the love he could get.

What was the issue was what Matty did not tell you. Perhaps, he had forgotten because you had arrived only moments before soundcheck, and he was too preoccupied to remember small details in that time. Heck, even you had forgotten by the time the concert began and you got to enjoy it on the side of the stage. There was something captivating about seeing Matty at his prime that drove away all other thoughts.

It was not until the band left the stage and you stayed with Matty that the real issue became known. This hotel did not provide the nice double queen beds like you had imagined they would have. No, instead, this hotel had tiny double beds. This meant cramped sleeping quarters and, as you knew well, an even more ridiculous situation for you. Matty did not exactly like to be slept all over at night because he would get sometimes claustrophobic. Thus, you had the ‘privilege’ of getting to share the bed with none other than the band’s resident giant for the night - George.

“It won’t be that bad,” Matty told you as you walked down the hall to the room. “He’s rather comfortable to share a bed with. Very courteous.”

“You say that like you’ve done it a lot.”

“When you’ve known a boy for nearly fourteen years, you are bound to have had a night where you had to share the bed with him.” Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, Matty leaned in and kissed your cheek. “It will be fine. It’s like sleeping with an oversized teddy bear. Besides, he’s a gentleman. You know that. He’ll do whatever you need him to so that you can sleep well. If not, then I’ll make sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Following Matty, you checked in with Jamie real quick and then headed over to your room with George, room 375. Matty swiped his card in the door, and in seconds, you were entering the room. There, you found a sight you were not exactly expecting. Sprawled out on the bed as if he owned the thing, clad in only his boxer briefs and scrolling through his phone, was George. You were shocked. Matty could only smirk. George, looking up from his phone briefly, threw a nod your way.

“Sup.”

You laughed, mostly at the audacity of him. Sup? He’s nearly naked on the bed you have to share with him and the first thing he says is ‘sup’? It was hardly believable. However, Matty left your side and went to his things as if it were, as if that was simply how George functioned. You felt incredibly out of place. Not to mention, a bit embarrassed and shy. He was nearly naked, after all. His lack of layers did not really leave much to the imagination, and you were not too sure you wanted to have Matty catching you ogling his best friend right before you were to sleep in the same bed as him. You swallowed hard.

“C’mon love, I won’t bite,” George spoke, startling you in your spot by the door. He scooted over and patted next to him, throwing you that silly grin you were so fond of. You looked to Matty, as if you had to ask permission to move forward. He was busy unpacking his things, but when you did not reply nor move towards George, he looked over to you. Smiling, he dropped his clothes on the bed and went over to hug you.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to act like sleeping in the same bed is going to do any harm,” he soothed, kissing along your neck. “I’d have you sleep with me but you know how I get.”

You nodded. “I know. I just don’t want to make things awkward.”

“How would you make things awkward?”

Startled, you looked over to see George, now propped up on his elbows watching the two of you. Biting your lip, you looked between him and Matty. He looked even better than before. His hair, wet from a quick shower, sat in curls on his face. His eyes looked rather concerned for you, yet mischievous. It was almost as if he knew exactly why it would be awkward, and wanted to push your buttons to get you to admit it. Something in Matty’s eyes, you saw when you gazed back at them, caught the same twinkle. You swallowed hard.

“I-It’s just that...that you are...well...and I am...guys, do I have to say it?”

Matty looked to George, and when his eyes were back to you, the mischievousness had taken over fully. Along with it, a hint of lust appeared. You could feel George’s eyes boring into your side.

“You’re all shy because you’ll be sleeping in the bed of another guy, aren’t you love?”

“Matty-”

“Here’s the thing about that love,” he whispered, his lips ghosting against your cheek as they led to your ear, “George and I have shared plenty of things in the past. I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to sharing you with him for a night.”

Blinking, you opened your mouth in another fit of shock. Matty grinned, wickedly so. His hand held your hip, gripping a bit tight. You gasped as his lips went to your neck again, this time less as a comfort and more as a devilish expression of intentions. You pulled back from him after a moment, searching his eyes. He smiled.

“I saw your face when we first walked in, love. You find him fit.”

“I-I-”

“It’s not bad,” he whispered, caressing your side with his other hand. “He’s a proper fit lad. If you’re alright with it...we might be able to arrange a bit of fun between the three of us tonight to ease your nerves. That is, if you are alright with it.”

You could hardly believe your ears. Wouldn’t what Matty was suggesting be dangerous? Wouldn’t it mess up the relationship you had with him, and he with George? Then again, as you looked to the bed and saw George, your friend, the goofy guy you knew to bring Matty so much happiness, and back to Matty, your boyfriend, the guy you knew loved you more than anyone, you realized that maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe, Matty knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe, he had done this before. The thought sent a thrill up and down your back.

“If anything, it’ll make you more comfortable sleeping next to George.”

And that was what got you convinced. Looking to George, you with a nervous hand beckoned him over. He crawled to the end of the bed and got up, only needing one stride to go over to where Matty and you stood. You looked to Matty for permission, and when he nodded and granted it, you bent him down to kiss you.

He was a sweet kisser, different yet just as lovely as Matty. His hands had a bit more force behind them than Matty’s, probably due to their overall larger size. You found after kissing him for a few moments that he was quite a gentle kisser in comparison, though that could be because of his lack of familiarity with you. If anything, it was nice. Not knowing him in this way was nerve-wracking. You liked the ease-in that George gave you.

You liked the feel of Matty’s hands rubbing up and down your body from behind even better.

“Mmm, you’re being so good for him already,” he murmured, his voice like silk against your ear. “You’re going to give him such a time, love.”

You leaned your neck to the side to let George access it, allowing for your eyes to meet Matty’s. “I-I want you.”

“You’ll get me,” his whispered reply promised. “You’ll get all of me. I just want George to have some fun with you before then. This is to get you to be comfortable with him, after all.”

Matty finished his words with a fierce kiss to your lips, driving you moaning into his mouth. He for sure was more confident in kissing you. He knew exactly what drove you wild, what made your knees weak and had you begging his name. He knew all your secrets and then some. His kisses proved that.

“How about you two have some time on the bed while I go shower off a bit.” Turning to George, Matty winked. ‘Give her a good time, yeah?”

“Of course. She’ll be in good hands.”

Matty gave you one final kiss before going off and disappearing into the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, it was a whole different game. It was just you and George, which was odd, yet not the worst thing. Matty basically gave you permission to learn and explore George, and he was far from a bad guy to enjoy that permission with. Still, you were nervous. You did not want to cross any lines you were not sure existed with him. You could tell he recognized this in you with Matty’s shower now turned on and you no longer under his supervision. George smiled.

“C’mere.”

Following his lead, you took his hand and let him guide you onto the bed. There, he began to tentatively feel up and down your sides like Matty had been doing. It was soothing and familiar in the face of such oddity. You liked the feeling of it, and moaned to let him know you liked it. George’s smile returned even stronger than before. His lips took to yours.

“Do you like to be eaten out, love?”

The question came at you suddenly, and not without a gasp and questioning of if he was mad. George laughed, bringing your hand up to his mouth so he could kiss it. “Matty asked me to show you a good time. I figured that perhaps you might enjoy it and it might get you a little less nervous around me.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll only do what you are comfortable with.”

Biting your lip, you looked around and then nodded. It would be a bit weird having George see you in that way, but it was what Matty wanted, right? Kissing George deep, you let him gently lay you down onto the bed and kiss along your legs. He had you sit up on your elbows like he had been sitting before so that you could see him as he worked, first in taking off your shorts and then in taking off your underwear. Being exposed to him felt a bit odd, but each kiss that he placed to the inside of your thighs made you not care as much. It felt good, frankly. You were not really in a position to complain. Kissing a bit nearer your core, George shifted you forward so that your legs were bent on either side of him. You blushed, making him smile.

“Think you can make Matty hear you in the loo?”

“Depends,” you said softly, feeling most of the blood in your body running south, “how good are you at this?”

George shrugged, pausing to kiss right on your clit to make you gasp. “I don’t know. Why don’t you be the judge?”

And that was the end of that. George went right to work on you, his mouth warm against you and his tongue not as worried about being sweet and careful as his lips had been on your mouth. Sure enough, George was right. You were in good hands, great even. He had you forgetting your inhibitions in no time, they being replaced quickly with the intense pleasure forming thanks to his work on your clit. It was a wild feeling. Matty had been like this with you before plenty of times. George’s work, much like his kiss, was different yet just as nice. He used a bit more directness with his touches than Matty. Matty liked to tease you more, bringing you to the point of screaming his name before allowing you any release. George on the other hand cut straight to the chase. His tongue was unrelenting and made sure to leave no part of your core unexplored. He did not want a big performance like Matty - he wanted instant gratification in the form of your moans in the air. And did he ever get them.

Panting, gasping, you were falling apart underneath George’s grasp. The best part about his direct nature was the direct pleasure that you got, lick after lick, hum after hum against your skin. It had you moaning out, grasping at the sheets, even pulling yourself closer to George’s mouth. It was on that action that George pulled away and smirked at you.

“I think you need to encourage Matty to get here before all the fun goes away. Shout his name for me, love. Let him know how much you want him to come back here.”

Gasping, you nodded and left George back to his work. Within a minute or two, he had you back to how you were before, writhing and moaning like a fool. That was when you decided to speak and do as George said, happy to oblige him after all of his hard work.

“Oh...oh Matty,” you moaned, hoping he could hear you now that the shower seemed to be shut off. “Matty, I need you, babe. Please. Oh, oh fuck, Matty I-”

Stepping out in only a towel, his hair every which way and just as damp as George’s, Matty wore a big smirk. He walked on over to join George’s side, giving you a beautifully lustful look from underneath his eyelashes. He looked eager to join in, and pleased with how relaxed and aroused you were.

“You called?”

You moaned, your hips rising from the bed in pleasure. “I-I need you.”

“Where do you need me, baby?”

It had been a while since he had called you that. The sound alone was enough to drive you closer to your release, but you couldn’t cum. Not just yet. “Kiss me.”

You hardly needed to ask. Matty walked over and knelt by the bedside, bringing your head into his hands so he could get a good look at you. His lips met yours, along with his hands meeting your breasts through the simple t-shirt he had bought for you last year when he first met you. His mouth explored you as George worked furiously to get you to cum, suppressing your moans while encouraging George on. They worked like a team on you. You could only imagine how it would feel once one of them was inside you. Or both. You shivered at the thought. Then, something inside you snapped.

Yelling into Matty’s mouth a sharp squeal, your orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched you up into Matty’s grasp, and George’s large hand worked to keep you down flesh against the bed in a way that made you unable to escape the pleasure. It was so much at once, the waves of pleasure going through you at their command. You felt your body jolt a bit from it, something that made both George and Matty smile as they pulled away from you. George gently rubbed your clit until you were through your orgasm, leaving you a panting mess. Your eyes opened to find them both admiring you, sweet eyes meeting your blissful ones. You found yourself grinning back at them.

“I think George is good at that.”

Matty chuckled, nodding George’s way. “I knew you would be in good hands. I heard you begging for me though, love. You want me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I do.”

“Say it.”

“I-I want you inside me, Matty.”

He smiled, turning to George. “She’s so good, isn’t she?”

“She deserves some kind of reward for putting up with us,” George murmured, wiping his mouth before licking his lips. “You’d like that, yes beautiful? A reward?”

Nodding, you looked between the two. “I-I would.”

“Follow my lead,” Matty whispered to George, and suddenly you found yourself being pushed up further on the bed. Matty situated you slightly propped up on the pillows. After some heated kissing, he instructed George to go grab some condoms. A short rummage through their things later, and George had exactly what Matty asked. Matty got his on a little after George, and when he did, he went down to your entrance, teasing you with his tip before going all the way in to the sound of your moan. He grinned, pleased with the noise.

“Mmm baby, you feel so good.”

Moaning as your hips rolled against his thrust, you nodded in agreement. “You do too, Matty. Oh.”

“George,” Matty called, catching his attention away from you, “I think her mouth isn’t occupied. You’d be alright with that my love, right?”

Nodding, you watched as George crept forward. His hand went to weave itself into your hair, and then you went to put your mouth around him. It was his turn to let out a moan, and it was a glorious one at that. Pure music and bliss. It sent heat down where Matty entered, and had you squeeze around his cock in a way that made Matty gasp and moan. It spurned something within him, for he quickly brought your legs up and held them on either side of you, allowing him to enter you better and deeper. You cried out at the new feeling.

“She making you feel good, George?”

He nodded, letting his head fall back. “Best goddamn lips, she has.”

“I know, right?”

Matty’s thrusts into you were relentless. Clearly, he was still high off of his performance, for he was intent on putting on a show for you. Moans, his hands holding you tight to the bed, his hand reaching down to work at your clit - it was a fit of stimulation. You felt your abdomen heat up, pulsing with pleasure. It was enough to send you arching and writhing again. This time however, when you felt like you were going to cum, Matty did not give you the sweet release you desired. Instead, he pulled out, all the way, and made you moan from the loss onto George. He gasped, his hips jerking and nearly causing you to deepthroat him. You were glad he stopped himself. George was certainly a bit too big for you to successfully do that. Matty called him over.

“Stay into her until you’re close,” he instructed, low and commanding to his friend, “or until I say to switch, okay?”

George nodded as if his command was nothing. Matty patted him on the back and walked over to you, petting your hair before asking your permission to enter your mouth. Looking into his brown eyes, you couldn’t refuse. He always looked at you so beautifully, no matter what the reason. A blowjob was hardly enough thanks for that, but you were happy to do it nevertheless.

“Ugh, I love you,” he groaned as he entered. George chuckled before nudging at your entrance, giving you yet another thing to focus your mind on. He, you knew for sure, was bigger than Matty. Your gut twisted at the thought of him being so big, but you were excited at the thought of feeling him inside you at the same time. Your conflicting emotions proved to heighten your senses as he did enter, leaving you gasping and moaning around Matty, which in turn led him to moan. The room sounded like a big assortment of moans. A true rockstar’s bedroom.

George’s pace was more gentle at first than Matty’s, but as soon as he got a good pace going, he had you nearly moaning with every thrust. Matty proved to make this arrangement even more eventful, as he did start to buck into your mouth. You tried your best to take him in, his hands tugging at your hair for encouragement. He got sloppy, and you knew that he got that way when he was close. George too seemed to get that way as his pace got almost unbearably faster. You felt like you would explode when he suddenly called out to Matty. Your mind whirled at how fast these boys could just stop their actions and switch. Sure, they had known each other for a while and, given how comfortable they seemed, you probably were not the first girl they had done this with, but it still was impressive considering each time they did, you felt frustrated enough you could hit something. You supposed it made returning that much better for them.

George tore off his condom as he went to you, tossing it aside so that you could take him in skin-to-skin. He moaned and begged you to help him cum, his voice higher when so needy as he was. You went to work on him as Matty roughly entered and began thrusting hard and fast into you. Your legs once again found themselves bent back, this time with the addition of the hand not rubbing your clit pinning your hip to the bed. He grunted with each thrust, and each thrust made your moans louder. Everything seemed to speed up from there. Your bobbing on George’s cock, Matty’s thrusts into you, his hand going back and forth on your clit. You felt wild. The pure ecstasy you felt was unparalleled. Soon enough, it got to the point where it really couldn’t be paralleled. The boys were reaching their peak.

George came first, his hips bucking into your mouth and a long groan escaping his lips after your tongue managed to lick right across his slit. You did not mind swallowing - you did it for Matty all the time. You tried your best to work him through his orgasm as Matty pounded into you, nearly rocking the bed against the wall. It only took him a bit more to cum, a few perfect thrusts and, to your happiness, your orgasm clenching you around him. You both came with yelled versions of your names. George brushed your hair out of your eyes as you did, and his touch guided you down from your high after it hit. Matty found himself after leaving you and disposing of his condom collapsing next to you, his chest rising and falling fast as his breathing still continued to get to normal. George grinned.

“Well, that was something.”

Giggling, you and Matty nuzzled your noses together. “She sure is, isn’t she?” Matty said softly, languidly kissing you. You pulled back blushing, curling into his side. “Love, do you feel more comfortable around our Georgie now?”

You giggled again. “Yeah, though I’m not going to start calling him Georgie.”

Folding his arms, George grinned. “Good.”

“Actually, I’m so comfortable with him that I have an idea.” Both boys watched you as you slipped past them, getting up to stand before both of the beds. “Why don’t we push them together? I...I think it would be nicer and...and I kind of want to wake up next to both of you. If you don’t mind.”

Matty and George shared a glance. “Your girlfriend has a point. It would be nicer.”

“I wouldn’t be uncomfortable. That would give me enough space, I think.”

“Let’s do it.”

And so, after moving suitcases and discarded clothing around, the boys worked together to push the beds side by side. It took a little bit of fixing up to make the beds comfortable to sleep on, but then they became the perfect place for the three of them to stay. You hopped onto the middle, and the boys took to either side of you. George spooned you, while you spooned Matty. Together, you were the perfect trio.

“We have to do this some other time.”

Turning to look at you, Matty laughed. “Who knew my beautiful girlfriend has a thing for threesomes?”

“She’s a perfect one, she is,” George replied, kissing your forehead. “I think she deserves whatever she asks for, don’t you?”

Nodding, Matty flipped over and kissed you. “I couldn’t agree more. Maybe in the morning love, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you for coming on tour with us.”

Smiling, you brought Matty in for a deep kiss, ending with nibbling his lip slightly as you pulled away to get him to smile back. “I wouldn’t ever want miss out on being with my favorite boys.”

“That’s why we love you.”

Giggling on your spot on the couch, you happily took the fresh pint of ice cream from Matty’s hand as he joined you at your side. Life was great for the two of you. You were entering your eighth month of pregnancy, with a big happy tummy and a happy, healthy baby girl growing inside you. Not even born yet, she was already the light of your world. You adored her and her little movements inside you. She was like a little best friend, and you wanted nothing more than for your last month to safely hurry along so that you could meet her. 

For Matty, the sentiments were much the same. Fresh off of a long tour, he had a good seven months intended for album creating where he could be there for you and for his little girl. He loved her so much, growing so excited about her that he would mention her between sets, preaching to the audiences how he could not wait to spoil her rotten. Now in a position to, he was spending every moment doing so. You had to pull him away from her nursery one night to keep him from staying up until ungodly hours decorating it. She had a nursery fit for a queen, and a father intent on treating her no less than such. You happily appreciated all of his work.

“Stop fussing, it’s not that bad,” you chided him gently, diving your spoon into the bright green tub. “The baby wants it, anyway. Are you really going to fight with your own daughter about ice cream?”

“If she’s going to have piss poor taste in it, then yes,” he replied, dramatically averting his eyes and scoffing to make you laugh. He was really intent on making you laugh more and more as time went on. You believed it was because of how excited he was to see the baby - his good mood made him want to share it with everyone, like a merry king. You also felt like it had something to do with guilt. The more Matty read up on actual childbirth, the more he seemed to feel sorry for the pain you were going to go through. Making you smile now seemed to be his way of making up for the anguish later.

“How is the little one?”

“Kicking away like usual,” you said proudly, scooping a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth as Matty’s hand moved to your stomach to feel. “She feels really strong today. Must be all this mint ice cream.”

“Don’t put thoughts like that into her head.”

You giggled, placing your hand on top of Matty’s. “Is she putting on a show for you?”

“Feels like it,” he softly murmured, his ear moving to listen right next to his hand. A kick hit him in the cheek, making the both of you laugh, you ‘till you cried. Matty only shook his head, his face going red. “You’ve got an MMA fighter in there.”

“I think she’s mad at you for dissing her favorite dish.”

“You keep on about that and I won’t be getting it for either of you again.”

Smiling, you reached over and messed up Matty’s curls. “You love us too much to do that.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Have you thought up any names for her yet?”

The debate of what your little bundle of joy’s name would be had been going on for weeks. After a lot of back and forth, it was decided that you would get to choose the middle name, and Matty would get to choose the first name. Matty, determined to find the perfect name, had been deliberating nonstop on tour. You already had a middle name picked out, Rose. Rose had been your go-to name for years, and you always knew that if you had a girl, she would somehow have that name. All you had to do was wait for Matty to come up with something good to fit with it. The thing was, during tour, he did not seem to have any inspiration. Now, with him back home and in a writing mood anyway from working on the new album, you figured some inspiration would come. The downtrodden look on his face told you before he could speak that it had not.

“There just doesn’t seem to be a name perfect enough for her,” he grumbled, folding his arms and pouting like a child. “I hardly know her, too. What if she’s a girly girl and we give her a name that doesn’t properly reflect her? Or what if she’s all emo and we give her a name like ‘Lily’ or ‘Elizabeth’? It would not fit and I’d regret it all her life.”

“I’m sure whatever you pick out for her will be lovely,” you soothed, “and she will love you for it no matter what. Even if she ends up all emo like you.”

“That’s a terror.”

“What, only one Healy can be emo?” you spoke, grinning at him. Matty pouted some more, though he looked more playful than before.

“Yeah. It’s me. It’s my brand.”

Taking another spoonful of your ice cream, you shook your head. “I’m going to have my work cut out for me if she is any bit as dramatic as you. I’ll have to be calling up George to take care of you so I can watch over her.”

“I’m not that dramatic.”

“Say that to any one of your fans and they’d probably slap you.”

“...alright, fair point.”

Stretching out, Matty rested his head on your lap. As he laid and rubbed at your tummy, you continued to eat and twirled his curls around your fingers. The true sight of domestic bliss. Kissing your tummy, Matty let out a soft sigh.

“One day, I’m going to find you the most beautiful name, baby girl. It will be perfect for whatever you decided to do with yourself, and it will be just as beautiful as I know you are.” He placed another kiss. “You are so special to me.”

You smiled. “You’re so special to her too, Matty. You’re already such a good dad.”

“I hope she has your eyes.”

“Why not yours?”

“Yours are prettier than mine,” he replied, now drawing circles on your stomach with his finger. “They’re softer. I think they would suit her better.”

“Well then I hope she has your hair,” you countered, your fingers weaving their way through his curls.

“Why would you wish this mop on her?”

“Because contrary to what you say, it’s actually really, really pretty.” Matty rolled his eyes in disbelief, only to yelp and backtrack when you pulled them slightly. Giggling, you patted his cheek. “I think no matter how we look, she’ll still come out gorgeous. She’s so loved.”

Matty looked at you tenderly. “Yeah, you’re right. She is.” He paused. Then, he had an epiphany. “That’s it! Love! Her name should have something to do with love!” And that was the start of it. Jumping off of your lap, Matty rushed to find his phone. When he did, he paced back and forth scrolling through it, scrolling long enough that you finished your paint and started to drift off to sleep in his absence. Right when it seemed as if you would be able to nap, Matty let out a triumphant ‘A-ha!’ and ran over to you. He placed a hand on your bump.

“Amorette,” he told you, his eyes sparkling. “It’s French and means ‘little love’. Don’t you think that that is perfect?”

“Amorette Rose Healy.” Nodding, you smiled and pulled Matty in for a kiss. “It’s so beautifully unique. See, I told you that you would be able to find the best name for her. It’s both strong and sweet. She’ll love it.”

“I hope she does,” he cooed, rubbing your belly. “Do you like that one, love? Do you like the name Amorette Rose?”

In a fit of fate, the little baby kicked right as Matty asked. Grinning at each other, you realized that it was perfect. The little girl, be she covered in curls or with your soft eyes, would be called Amorette Rose. Bringing Matty close to you, you cuddled into his arms and kissed along his jawline.

“I love you so much, Matty. Having a baby with you will be the best adventure I’ll ever have with you.”

Smiling, Matty kissed you back. “I love you too, beautiful. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for giving me this chance at being a father. I will do everything I can to protect you and little Amorette.”

“And I’ll love you for it. Even if you still hate our desert choices.”

The very next day, slightly hungover but still riding the high of being with Matty, you woke up and did the first thing you could think of: dial the blonde-haired boy’s number. You could barely remember his name. Henry? Harry? Hardy? It was something forgettable with an H. Trying to sound as sweet as you could, you told him that unfortunately the date would have to be broken, and that you had a previous commitment you wished to keep. Sure, it was far from a true statement, but blondie was sweet. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings and make him think it was something he did wrong that cost him you. It wasn’t his fault you couldn’t keep it in your pants around Matty the night before. Some things simply happen out of one’s control. He thankfully understood.

That night, you met up with Matty at the nearby park and talked. You talked about anything the boy’s mind would entertain, from the boy he went on roadtrips alongside to how he felt after the previous night. It was effortless, and warm. With each passing moment, you found yourself even more drawn to Matty than before. Something about the kid, his dark blackish-brown hair and his chocolatey eyes, drew you to him. He made ditching blondie worth it. His lips against yours did the trick, as well.

Three days worth of these meetings culminated in one final meeting. It took place on the swings, Matty lacing his hand in yours to keep you moving in time. Conversation was sparse that day. Matty seemed on edge. Had he not had his hand so tightly in yours, you would have thought him mad at you. You sent a frown his way, and were met with his eyes, boring their way into yours.

“Is everything alright?”

The boy let out a long, unsure breath. “Yes.” It was as if he was trying to convince himself, the way he spoke. You wished to give him a hug, but feared his reaction. The boy looked like he could snap at any moment. Instead, you squeezed at his hand. He sighed.

“Look, {Y/N}, I...I’m not sure how to say this.” Fear pooled into your stomach. The horror you would feel if he turned you down this early on would be dreadful for sure. He couldn’t possibly be wanting out now, not this soon. He barely was with you. All you did was fuck. Had he had any issue with that, he would have stated it on the first night after it. You bit your lip to distract yourself from the what ifs. Matty’s eyes flickered down to it briefly before returning back to your eyes.

“I...I think you are beautiful. I know I told you this that first night in my van, but I wanted to say it again...and let you know that I truly mean it,” he spoke, barely audible even mere feet away. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since then. You’ve changed me...and I know that that sounds mental and honestly borderline creepy, but it’s honest. It’s raw and emotional and true. Just like my feelings for you. Fuck...will you be my girlfriend, {Y/N}?”

Hearing him say the words was incredible. Glorious, even. You felt like you were out of his league and just a fuck buddy before, but now? Now he wished to be your boyfriend. He wanted to date you, bring you around at his hip, kiss you whenever, fall in love with you. You. You barely remembered to speak and agree to his words, you were so shaken. When you did however, Matty’s face lit up. You received in that moment the first real, true, loving kiss from Matty’s lips. It was the most intense feeling.

“I want to show you to my friends.”

You blinked. You did not expect that. “Your friends?”

“J-Just three of them,” he explained, as if he could already sense your apprehension. “They’re really nice, don’t worry. Besides, you said before that some of them are in classes with you! It shouldn’t be too bad seeing them again, yeah? I don’t think they’re that shitty of students.”

Giggling, you shook your head. “No, they’re not terrible. I just didn’t think I’d be introduced to the friends so early on. I feel like that’s a privilege reserved for someone who you actually have been dating for more than a few minutes.”

“By the time you see them, it’ll already have been over a day.”

“Alright, fair point.”

“Don’t worry love, you’ll be just fine,” he spoke, assuring, reaching to squeeze your hand. “They probably will take one look at you and be as blown away as I was. When they hear you speak, they’ll be just as gobsmacked as I was as well.”

“You, gobsmacked?”

Matty grinned. “Absolutely. Felt like I was going to die, I was so worried.”

“About what?”

“About anything really. It’s not every day a gorgeous girl comes into view. I had to make a move, I knew I did, but damn,” he said, laughing in spite of himself. “It was next to pulling teeth in my mind in terms of how hard it was to get the courage to speak to you that first time.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You obviously were impressed, otherwise I would not have ended up with you in the back of my van, now would I?”

Shoving at his arm, you giggled. “Alright. Enough of that. Your friends. When will I meet them, and where?”

Matty paused for a moment, thinking. “Saturday, seven o’clock, my house. Do you have the address love? Shit, I think I haven’t given it to you. I’ll do that eventually.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, smiling. It made Matty smile as well.

So the plans were made, set, and hatched. Twos days of enjoying life with Matty as your new boyfriend came and went, and you found yourself driving over to his flat ready to meet people he considered important in his life. You chose to wear a pair of darkened jeans and a faded blue blouse with boots - not too casual, but still comfortable to wear. Letting your hair fall loosely, you hopped out of your car and headed up to the door, Matty’s door, the door to Matty Healy’s house. Your boyfriend’s house. Hands growing sweaty, you knocked once, twice, three times. Finally, he opened it, the sound of loud music and the smell of pot wafting through the door. A big, lopsided grin washed across his face at the sight of you.

“You...you look gorgeous, babe.”

Grinning, you let him bring you into a big hug. “Sure that isn’t just the weed talking?”

“Yes, because if it was, I’d be calling you fucking hot and the sexiest being I’ve ever seen,” he spoke, and regardless of whether or not he was teasing you, you felt your cheeks turn bright red. He ushered you inside, too excited to notice or care if he did. His hand slipping into yours and gripping you tight, he brought you forward and into a large open room, stark white but decorated with tons of beautiful knick-knacks and art. Scattered on leather seats were three boys, all watching you. One was tall, a big fellow, with blondish-brown hair dyed bright blonde at the tips and wearing all black, from head to toe like Matty, only with more leather involved. Another was draped on his own couch, his long legs spread comfortably. He had shorter dark hair and the thin makings of what could become a beard. The third boy, sitting next to the blonde one, had sandy hair and looked much thinner than the others. He had soft eyes and a unique look to him that matched his unique patterned shirt. You smiled at them all, and they returned it genuinely.

“Guys, this is {Y/N}. {Y/N}, I’d like you to meet George, Ross, and Adam,” Matty announced proudly, pointing to each as he said their name. Adam and Ross waved, while George got up and went to hug you. He was incredibly tall compared to you, but his hug felt warm and comforting, and in your nervous state it felt like heaven. Matty smiled at the lad as he sat back down, and then brought you to sit down with him on the third couch there. Once you sat, a bong on the table was brought to your attention by Matty.

“Do you wanna’ use it?”

You bit your lip. As tempting as it was, you did have to drive back home before the night ended. The last thing you needed was any drama involving that. Politely, you declined, and thankfully, Matty understood. He instead took to taking hits for himself, breathing the smoke in and out after preparing it as if it were his job. George shared it with him, growing even more spacey than he had looked before. You turned and grinned at Matty.

“Are we going to just sit here and get high then, or are you going to strike up a conversation so I get to know your friends?”

“I like her,” George said, smirking. Matty rolled his eyes.

“Sod off, George. Well, everyone, I suppose I’ll have her tell you a little bit about her to get things started.”

“Way to pass the ball to me.”

“You tell your story better than anyone, babe. Besides,” he said with a laugh, “we haven’t even gone out on a date yet. This’ll be informative for me, too.”

And he was right. As close as you were, and as fast as everything had happened, you had not told Matty much about yourself. He didn’t know the little things that made you who you were, and what you enjoyed the most from life. He, essentially, sat on the same playing field as the others. Speaking to them all, you hoped that it would shine a better light on you. From the look of adoration in Matty’s eyes when you finished, you felt that it had done just that.

“You seem really passionate about what you do,” Adam said, smiling softly your way.

“Yeah, and you have a great taste in music,” Ross noted with a nod. “It’s hard to find someone with those kind of tastes that’s like you.”

“I still like you.”

You giggled. “Shut up George, you’re high as a kite.”

“I do, though!”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Matty brought you close and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, soft from how airy he felt, tender from the newfound adoration he had for you. It made you blush.

“I’m so proud to have you as my girlfriend. Little did I know I’d be meeting such a talented lass like yourself at that party.”

Smiling, you went to kiss his cheek. “You’re too sweet.”

“Just so you all know,” he announced, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, “I have the best girlfriend in the world now! Y’all are fucked, it don’t get better than this!”