#poly!bbs

“Tyler!” The thick accent welcomed him at the door and he pulled the Irishman in for a strong hug. Though he liked to pretend he was tough and unfriendly, Tyler loved the close friendliness he could uphold with the guys, especially Brian. They bumped knuckles when they drew apart, both wearing broad smiles in excitement for the evening. “How’ve ye been?”

Tyler beamed, nodding as he led the man down the hall. “Good, good- how are you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been great. It’s been good t’see Craig again after Ireland, I missed the stupid bastard.” His smile was fond as he looked down at his fingers. Though Brian and Craig could be a pain, they were very much in love and sickeningly cute. Tyler wouldn’t hesitate to say they were perfect for each other.

Brian looked around, the main room of the house huge and open with the height of two stories. The second floor was split down the middle, only half the floorplan of the first floor, and the pretty banister above showed off the nicely decorated hall that lead off the top of the stairs. “Ye got damn lucky with this, man- oh shit!”

The pitter-patter of paws on wooden floorboards. A black and white blur shot out of an open door. Brian let out a cry of happy laughter as the young dog leapt up at his hip and yipped at him with excitement.

“Kino, be nice.” The stupid baby-voice Tyler used caught the dog’s attention and the pup woofed in acknowledgement, tilting his head almost upside-down to look at his owner. Brian’s hands were already rubbing at the pup’s head and neck, smothering the animal with adoration and his own accented kid’s voice.

He fell to the floor soon after, allowing the dog to jump all around him, pawing at his legs and shoulders and chest, and licking at his face and hands. “Down, boy! Down!” He laughed through his words. Tyler admired the smile on his friend’s face.

It was nice to see him happy.

He was thrown from his thoughts at another knock on the door, leaving the man and his dog in the main room. As he opened the door, he heard his pup barking from where he was still being showered in love and attention.

“Is that a dog!?” Craig’s gasp of excitement was heard before Tyler even got a good look at his friend, pushing past him into his house and rushing down the hall. Tyler stood still for a moment, frowning out his front door before slowly shutting it and turning around. “Oh my GOD! You’re the cutest!” The squeal of excitement rang through the whole house.

“Aw, Craig, babe, thank ye!”

“Not you, you prick; the dog! What’s his name?”

Tyler peered into the main room, Craig crouched before his overexcited puppy, cooing happily as Brian watched with a pout, jealous of the dog. He held his heartbreak in his eyes.

Crystal blue eyes rolled, and he clicked his tongue. “Kino. C’mere, boy.” The dog perked up, jumped aside and trotted up to his owner, tongue hanging cutely out of his mouth. He dropped his big hand on top of the pup’s head and rubbed behind his ears.

When he drew his gaze back to Craig he saw the exact same look in his eyes that Brian wore and scoffed.

“Hi Craig, nice to see you too, fuckboy.” Sarcasm heavy on his tongue he pulled his hand back and Kino scurried off, no longer interested. The Brit stood, brushing himself off and wearing a smile that lacked any level of apology for ignoring his friend. Tyler shook his head, expecting no less as Brian stood also, catching his British love’s attention. Craig walked to his boyfriend’s side, allowing himself to be pulled close and grinning as a sweet kiss was pressed to his cheek.

“Hey baby,” he cooed, still ignoring Tyler who groaned loudly. Brian beamed, pressing a loving kiss to his boyfriend’s lips and pulling him even tighter against him. Tyler gagged. Craig laugh against his lover’s mouth and only broke away when Tyler threw a spoon at the two of them.

“Quit it!” he growled, mocking irritation as the two parted and Craig giggled. Tyler looked to Brian in disbelief. “You let him walk all over you?” he asked, incredulous.

Brian hummed in thought, smiling still as Craig intertwined their fingers, and nodded. “Yeah,” was his answer and Tyler rubbed his eyes.

“It’s love,” Craig said, corny look in his eyes and Brian pulled him back in for another kiss.

Tyler wanted to bash his head against the wall when Brian’s hands slipped down to squeeze Craig’s ass. A fork was thrown that time. “Fucking Christ. You two are like fuckin’ teenagers, I swear.” Not a speck of apology in their pretty eyes. Tyler pointed at them. “None of that shit for the rest of the night. I’m already fifth wheeling, I’m sure you guys can leave each other alone for a few damn hours.”

Brian smirked, eyes wandering up and down his boyfriend’s body with no shame at all. “I don’t think we can make any promises.”

Craig giggled.

Tyler regretted being born.

“You two are disgusting, if Scott and Marcel are this bad I’m gonna jump off my balcony.” Their voices chorused in a laugh and Tyler didn’t know whether to feel fearful or thankful to hear more knocking at the front door. He shot a distrustful look at the two men. “Don’t touch anything in my house,” and added after a moment of thought: “or each other.”

With that he t returned to the front of the house where Kino waited excitedly, his whole body shaking back and forth with the wagging of his tail. Tyler carefully nudged him aside and opened the door to the dusk sky.

“Tyler! Dude, how you been?” He got an armful of Marcel the moment it was open, firm grip on his hand and heavy thumps on his back. He laughed over his friend’s shoulder.

“Good! I’ve been great. Been a while, man, how’re you?” Pushed back away, he beamed, the man holding him at arm’s length and looking him up and down. Dark eyes sparkled above a pearly white grin.

“Better now that we’re seeing you! Happy Christmas, you tall fucker, now let us see this mansion of yours. Where the Hell did you get this kind of money?” Scotty slipped past the two of them, nudging Tyler playfully and meeting his eyes with a friendly smile.

The smaller of the three crouched down, giving the excited dog much-needed attention as it whimpered and whined in excitement, panting loudly.

“I swear you guys like my dog better than you like me,” Tyler sighed, moving back when Marcel released him. He shut and locked the door behind him. “Get in here, I gotta introduce you to my co-workers. Fair warning? They’re disgusting.”

The two laughed but kept their comments to themselves as they followed him down the hall. Craig and Brian were already waiting and watching, and Tyler glared at their suspiciously innocent eyes. “Marcel, Scotty. Meet Brian and Craig… You two, meet Marcel and Scott.” The four came together, big smiles and laughing as they shook hands and clapped backs. If any one of them was nervous or awkward it didn’t show, their social sides gleaming through.

Shared phrases of, “Nice t’meet ya!” and, “Merry Christmas,” were passed between them and Tyler walked back to the kitchen. The digital clock read 18:32 as he checked the lasagne he had cooking in the oven. Excitement coursed through him as he pulled a plate of snack foods out of the fridge and grabbed a pack of beers for the five of them.

“Alright, alright.” He dismissed their greetings and small chatter as he stalked over to the large, comfortable couches, laying the food and drinks down and waving them over. “You losers gonna keep talking about your days, or you gonna let me kick your asses in Mario Kart.”

A grin stretched across Brian’s face, the same look mirrored on Marcel’s, and the Irish man easily slung an arm over his shoulder. “I think ye should reconsider who is about to get their ass kicked,” he taunted and all four sunk down on the large couch.

As Tyler had completely expected, his four friends clicked together instantly. Chatter between games, teasing thrown back and forth in the form of half-assed trash talk. Scotty was either laughing or yelling, never a moment of silence from him as Craig nudged him routinely and tried to throw him off. The Brit seemed to be the least lucky of all of them, copping the most of their fire and shrieking with helpless anger each time he was sent back.

Brian just laughed, not a drop of sympathy for his boyfriend as he cruised through every race winning nine times out of ten. Marcel and Tyler both put up a fight, shouting at each other, shouting at Brian and growling in irritation when Craig or Scotty would pull them back towards last.

Squished between Marcel and Craig, Tyler tried his best to not get too worked up. His focus felt skewed either way, making sure the guys around him were enjoying themselves (and not getting too pissed off either). His attention also continued to jump between Marcel; who tilted left and right with his character, tongue peeking out from between his lips in his intense concentration, and Craig; who spent most of the games leaning heavy into Tyler’s side, whinging, and complaining, and squealing with excitement when he got first in one game.

Tyler found it difficult to concentrate.

They were all shocked out of their focus when the oven beeped. Their game came to a finish, the unsurprising gold medal going to the Irish prick of their group.

Scotty’s head fell back to the couch pillows behind him as he inhaled and let out a low groan. “Fuck, that smells amazing.” Brian blinked at him, laughing softly as his thoughtful gaze lingered on the pale expanse of the American’s neck.

Tyler heaved himself to his feet, ruffling Craig’s hair as he passed when the Brit nearly collapsed on the couch; the support he was leaning on having left him. “You guys play a bit more if you want and I’ll serve up food. You hungry?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Of course.”

“Starving.”

He shook his head, listening as they started up another game and Marcel dramatically mimicked the start up tune. Three beeps. Craig shrieked. The other three howled with laughter.

The plan was for the guys to spend the night there, knowing that they were likely to get drunk and stay up past any logical time. Plus, with the size of Tyler’s new place, he had several spare rooms and more than enough space for all five of them. He heard cheers of excitement as he pulled his meal out of the oven and plated up some for each of them. The smell filled the large room, Tyler laughing as they vocalised their complaints about growling stomachs. Cleaning up a bit and placing a salad bowl and plate of garlic bread on the table, he called out, “Alright, food’s ready,” and had all four of them finding seats in seconds, game forgotten.

“Tyler, marry me and cook for me, please.” Tyler pulled a face as the Brian spoke around his mouthful and Craig rolled his eyes at his lover’s antics.

“Marry Craig,” was all he gave the Irishman.

A hearty laugh, swallowing his food when Craig elbowed him. “I’ll marry both o’ ye.”

A sarcastic scoff.

Marcel and Scott looked on curiously, sparkles showing the amusement in their eyes. Scott swallowed, covering his mouth with the polite manners he had. “You actually could.” Curious eyes flicked to him instead and he shrugged, speaking with a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s not unheard of, being in a relationship with more than one person. It’s called a polyamory.”

Tyler listened, but didn’t speak. A three-way relationship? “Like a threesome?” Brian spoke his thoughts for him and Marcel rolled his eyes, laughing.

“I mean if that’s what you want from it, but it doesn’t have to be three; it’s just more than two.” Marcel and Scotty shared a look, the subject something they were obviously knowledgeable about.

“Never heard of it.” Tyler bit into a piece of garlic bread. “Wouldn’t you get jealous?”

A small smile and a slow nod. “People can be mono or they can be poly. Some people can just spread their feelings equally and some can’t – it’s not for everyone.”

“Is it for you guys?” Craig’s words had the two thinking but not flustered. They were a rather calm and collected couple, though silly when they wanted to be. It was easy to speak to them and easy to understand what they were saying.

Scotty scraped the last of his plate, licking at red sauce. “We haven’t found people who we’d want to share a relationship with yet.”

“But yes.” Marcel answered the question for the both of them. “We’re polyamorous.”

Brian’s phone went off, biting his thought in half as the man stuck his bread between his teeth and pulled out the device.

Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Oi, you prick, don’t you have any manners?”

“No.” Muffled around the bread. “OI!” He cried out at a pen smacked his forehead, thrown from Tyler who watched smugly as the Irishman dropped his phone out of sight. “What the fock!”

Rolling blue eyes. Craig leant across Scotty and snatched the phone from his boyfriend, tucking it likely beneath his leg where it couldn’t be reached. Brian pouted, widening his eyes and looking more like an ugly child than a cute puppy. His phone didn’t make another appearance and Craig happily ignored him to talk to Marcel instead. “So how long have you guys known Tyler?”

Scotty grinned, the couple suddenly remembering countless times in high school that had brought them together and gotten them in trouble. Neither hesitated to launch into old stories and make fun of the taller friend who tended to be the most clumsy and uncoordinated of their trio, qualities that continuously got all three in pretty sticky situations.

With this change of subject, thoughts about polyamories and relationships floated away and Tyler didn’t let himself linger on the unheard-of ideas. Not that it mattered much to him; Tyler never had been one to wonder about romance and dating. Attraction just wasn’t something he felt for people he met and if he couldn’t fall in love with one person, it didn’t seem possible for him to fall in love with several.

-

“Thank you, Tyler. That was delicious.” Dark-skinned arms looped around Tyler’s neck and he nearly fell when Marcel leant his full weight against him. It made stacking dishes significantly harder while trying to hold up his friend also but he knew complaining would do him no help as Marcel propped his head up on his shoulder. “You would make a lovely househusband.”

“If you’re good at BJs, I’ll buy us rings,” Scotty called, his laughter following his words to emphasise the silliness of the jokes. Marcel giggled in his ear, lingering for another long moment before standing upright and letting Tyler finish up his cleaning. He just ignored the two, by far used to their jokes after so many years.

Craig hummed to himself, playing with Alexa and the house’s speakers as he searched through his music. Brian and Scotty were busy neatening up the living room, turning around one couch and moving their large pile of presents in front of it. They dragged a love sac to one side.

Tyler groaned when Mariah Carey floated through the speakers.

“You’re such a basic white bitch,” he said as the Brit grinned, turning up the volume and allowing the room to fill with the festive music. Scotty grinned with glee as he flicked on the Christmas lights that hung at the top of the walls, encircling the tree and filling the room with coloured light. He turned the rooms overhead lights on low, and Tyler wiped his hands as he finished up his tidying. “Alright, present time?” he asked and hums of agreement were heard as they all migrated to the pile.

Tyler fell back on his couch, Scotty beside him and Brian on the floor, leaning against his legs. Marcel and Craig got comfy on the massive beanbag, shuffling around to make little dips for themselves to sink into.

“Okay. Gift time. I’ll be Father Christmas,” Brian said, grin broad. Marcel scoffed, shuffling to get comfortable and stretching an arm around Craig. With their current seat it was impossible for the two to sit apart but neither seemed opposed to the closeness; Craig didn’t seem uncomfortable beneath his arm.

Scotty scoffed, wiggling his eyebrows and gently kicking his foot against Brian. “Mm, Daddy Claus.” Tyler groaned into his hands, Craig snickered and Brian laughed but didn’t oppose or agree. He leant forward and grabbed at the closest boxes.

“Okay,” he drew out, tilting his head to read names. “Tyler! This one’s for you. Then Craig, from Yours Truly: Papa Claus.” He sent a wink in his lover’s direction and threw the box at him, passing the other over his head. Names between them dropped, the majority of presents bought and wrapped by Tyler himself. It wasn’t easy for Brian and Craig to buy for Marcel and Scotty, and vice versa, seeing as they didn’t know much about each other.

Yet being the genuinely kind people they were, they did bring presents still, mostly chocolates and little knickknacks that would make anyone laugh. Tyler was happier than ever seeing his friends open his gifts and laugh and smile at the thought behind each one.

His smile didn’t fall at all and as he opened the presents his friends brought for him, he wore the same fond reactions, laughing at stupid inside jokes and smiling quietly at the sentimental value of some. Gift paper floated everywhere, surrounding them all as they watched each other tear boxes open and show off especially enjoyable gifts.

At some point, Scotty found himself laughing loudly and rocking back against Tyler behind him. The taller man grinned, happy sound contagious, and lifted his arm from where it was squashed between them. It only remained on the top of the couch for about five minutes before it fell to settle along Scott’s shoulders, the smaller frame happily remaining close and accepting another present.

Tyler’s head very barely rested against the side of Scott’s, peering over his shoulder to watch him open up his next gift. From the glint in Marcel’s eye, he had been waiting for this particular box.

“For fuck’s sake.” Tyler shook his head, filthy images filling his thoughts that were very much unwanted as Marcel cackled and Scotty went bright red.

“You said you liked blue, right Baby?” he cooed, Craig’s hands over his mouth as he laughed. The little box, marked with a very big red 18+ held several objects, including: a little blue vibrator, cock ring, and fluffy blue handcuffs.

The boy slammed the box shut, burying it where he couldn’t see it as he ducked his head down and covered his face with a pillow. “Marcel, no,” he whined, very obviously humiliated as his lover giggled with delight.

“I really don’t think those are the words you’ll be saying tomorrow night.”

“Marcel!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his head back against Tyler’s knee and laughing openly. Craig huffed, soft eyes twinkling as he grumpily crossed his arms.

“Brian, where are my sex toys!?” he whined, kicking his foot against his boyfriend, the only way he could reach him from where he sat. “You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

Scotty shook his head, grumbling something incoherent into the pillow. Marcel looked all-too proud.

“There’s no way you two are sharing a room tonight,” Tyler said, making the other laugh and giggle like nothing else, Scotty leaning heavier into him as if hoping to hide from the world. Tyler had to resist the urge to drop his face into the soft blondish hair and press his lips to the scalp. He didn’t even get time to think about the random impulse before Craig jumped to his feet at the start of another song.

He laughed with glee, all eyes on him as he grabbed Marcel by the hand and pulled him up, doing the same with Brian. “Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing at Scotty (despite his still-red face), and Tyler.

Marcel slid up to Scotty as they stumbled out of the sea of wrapping paper. He slipped an arm around his waist, leaning close to whisper something in his ear that had the Caucasian man shoving him away with a scowl, neck and ears very red. Brian allowed himself to be dragged away where there was enough space for Craig to lead him to dance, jumping around with far too much enthusiasm as they sung loudly to the old Christmas track. Though their coordination was awful, they moved around in a somewhat-messy little dance routine, throwing in spins and twists and dips where they could. They never stopped laughing.

Tyler just smiled and began packing up, stuffing the torn paper in bags and turning the couch back around while his four closest friends enjoyed the simple festivities. His little Christmas party was going better than he’d hoped, not at all expecting his friends to end up getting along like they’d known each other for years. It was ridiculous.

He cleared away the mess in a few minutes, listening to the old album and humming to himself as his friend danced all together, swinging each other around and belting out what lyrics they could remember.

It took him several minutes to realise how long he’d been staring, watching the two couples exchange partners and dance very overdramatically together. He’d been leaning against the back of the couch, a fond smile on his lips that very directly contradicted his bad-boy reputation.

He forced himself to roll his eyes for good measure, before turning away.

Dumping empty beer bottles in the trash and easily avoiding his noisy friends. Craig attempted to lift Scotty into his arms, singing along to gibberish Tyler couldn’t make out. They both fell, despite their efforts, and laughter filtered into the music. The host of the little get-together fetched more beer and just as he placed it on the bench, two hands grabbed his arm and he was being pulled towards the childish group.

“Dance, Tyler, dance! Show us yer moves!” Brian cooed, cupping his hands around his mouth for emphasis as he was thrown in the mess of all of them.

He stood up straight. “I’m not dancing.”

Arms folded to be stubborn. Craig rolled his eyes, grabbing his hands and yanking them away from his chest. The grin on his face remained as he swung Tyler’s arms from side to side, spinning him around as he tried his best to stay still and contain his laughter.

“Tyyylerr,” Scotty whined, hands on those broad shoulders as he fought to make his friend move with the music. “Loosen up, dude! We’re here to get drunk and be stupid.”

The laugh bubbled from his lips as he tried to shake his friend away, Brian and Marcel giggling as they jumped around ridiculously. “I’m not fuckin’ drunk yet!” he laughed and Marcel scoffed.

A change of song and Craig was pulling Tyler’s hands up to his face, eyes and mouth wide open with excitement. “Oh my God, it’s been so long since I’ve listened to this!”

“Last Christmas?” Tyler suggested and his comment was ignored as Craig spun him around a few times. “Craig, I swear you’re gonna-” Before he could even make his prediction his foot caught on Craig’s and he fell back to the floorboards, his friend falling on top of him.

The other three were doubled with laughter, Brian leaning against Scott as the three wheezed and gasped for air. Craig met Tyler’s deadpan eyes with a guilty smile and a small giggle, and the American dropped his head back to the floor with a groan.

“Idiot.”

“Sorry, Ty.”

“Are you really?”

“Mmm. Maybe?”

He huffed, unable to hide his smile as he pushed his friend upright, sitting up as well and rubbing his head. It took him a second to realise Craig was straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap with his hands pretty much settled on Tyler’s pecs. And he definitely wasn’t rushing to get off.

God, he’d only had one beer.

“Craig?”

“Er, yes?”

“Mind getting off?” He raised a brow.

Craig shrugged. “A little bit.”

Both brows lifted. “Huh?”

A flashed grin before the Brit got back to his feet, Tyler definitely not watching his crotch as he pushed his hips forward first, using Ty’s shoulder to get one foot beneath him and stand.

“Alright, I’m dying to know what the upstairs of this place is like. Are we gonna explore or are you gonna give us a tour of this mansion?” Scotty asked, recovering his breath as Tyler got back to his feet also, still confused about Craig’s intention.

“Can we play Hide and Seek?” Brian asked, far too casual of a question from a grown man.

Tyler blinked, incredulous. “How old are you?”

But Craig had already grabbed onto Marcel in excitement, the black man glancing at him with an amused look. “Yes,” the Brit whispered.

“No! Are you guys eleven? I’m not playing Hide and Seek.”

Scotty took a step back, shit-eating grin on his face. “I say Tyler’s the seeker then, boys.”

“No.”

Marcel bit his lip, hiding his smile as he slyly stepped back. “Count to sixty, no cheating!”

“Guys, no! Fucking Christ, you’re all insufferable. I’m not playi-”

“Start counting!”

He stared in disbelief as the four bolted for the stairs, laughing and grinning as they stumbled up after each other.

“Close your eyes, Fuckboy!” Scotty shouted and he turned around, fingers coming up to rub his eyes.

“You’re fucking kidding,” he mumbled to himself. “Hide and fuckin’ Seek. I’m… I’m gonna be an alcoholic at twenty-four.” Lifting his head and closing his eyes, he sighed. “Ten. Eleven. Twelve.” Numbers dropped beneath his breath, listening as doors shut and laughter echoed, cut short in childish excitement.

Disappointment glared down at him as he walked up the stairs, shaking his head at himself after shouting out that he was coming to find them. His friends were ridiculous, and he was far too easy to manipulate into their childish antics.

Still.

It was Christmas and there was nothing wrong with having a bit of fun.

The house could have convinced him he was alone with just how silent it was, breathing with him as though nothing were any different. He hummed softly to himself as he crept down the hall, peering into the open space of the small upstairs entertainment room. A large window facing the street wore thin blue curtains that weren’t usually drawn together.

Tyler sighed. “Craig, you’re shit.” The moonlight from outside clearly outlined the man’s body from where he hid behind the curtain, pressed against the glass and standing on the wide frame. Defiantly, the other didn’t move and Tyler shook his head, stalking up to his shitty hiding place and pulling the curtains away to expose him. “My neighbours are gonna think I’ve got a fuckin’ perv in my house. Get down, you fuck.”

The Brit giggled, not looking too bummed out about being found first. “I’ve always sucked at Hide and Seek,” he admitted, following Tyler out of the room with a grin on his face.

Movement caught the man’s eye and he sighed, not pausing. “Brian, get out from under the table before you break one of the legs.”

A whiny groan echoed from beneath the piece of furniture, legs moving where Tyler could see them. “I nearly had it,” he muttered. “I blame Craig for his shitty curtain spot.” The Irishman joined them with a pout as he made it out of his hiding spot without breaking anything. He yelped in surprise, Tyler assuming Craig had hit him for the claim and walking on.

He cleared the next two rooms with the bickering couple in tow and stopped in his bedroom, one he was slowly getting used to after having bought the house that month. The bed was wide (and tall so his feet didn’t hang over the edge) and a large desk covered half the wall with three large screens. The room also housed a comfy couch facing a TV.

Nothing beneath his bed, no one behind his curtains (ignoring Brian bullying his boyfriend over the ridiculous spot), and no one behind his couch or beneath his desk. He was halfway back out the door when he heard a small thump from his wardrobe.

“I swear if you touched any of my clothes or shoes, I’m gonna get Kino to bite your balls,” he mumbled, far too quietly for whichever of the other two were hiding in his closet. He stormed up to the door, grabbing the doorknob and yanking it open, light from his room pooling into the small space.

He expected to see Scotty huddled up beneath his jackets or Marcel pressed between his shelf and the wall. What he didn’t think he would find, and what he didn’t want to find, was both of them taking up the small amount of space, Scotty pinned between Marcel and the wall with his legs locked around his boyfriend’s waist and Marcel’s hands unashamedly holding onto his ass. Their eyes were tightly shut, lips locked as Marcel ground into Scott whose hands grasped at his biceps, his shoulders, tangled in his hair. A long few seconds lasted before they broke apart to breathe and Marcel didn’t waste time in dropping his mouth to the pale neck.

Scott’s eyes opened following the short gasp that slipped from his lips and Tyler blinked out of his surprise. “You two are filthy,” he exclaimed, fighting down the heat in his cheeks and ears. Marcel startled at the voice, dropping Scotty and glancing back in surprise. His reluctance wasn’t subtle when he put space between them and Scotty glowed bright red as he wiped at his mouth and stared at the ground. “It’s Hide and Seek, not Seven Minutes in Heaven. Get out of there.”

“Scarred. Scarred for life.” Craig walked from the room with his hands over his eyes, Brian snickering and watching the two unbalanced men shuffling out of the wardrobe.

Marcel didn’t seem half as bad as Scotty though, hands in his pockets and smirk still on his lips as he followed his lover into the bedroom. The new definition of crimson was Scotty’s face though and Tyler had to fight back a laugh at his fluster. “Don’t worry, Tyler, we didn’t finish in your sneakers.”

“There won’t be any ‘finishing’ at all tonight, you horny pieces of shit. I thought Craig and Brian were going to be the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair and ignored the disapproving cry of “Hey!” from the Irishman.

Scotty hurried out the door and Marcel and Tyler followed suit in less of a dishevelled manner, the latter hopeful that it marked the end of the silly game.

“Let’s just go eat some food and drink so I can forget everything I just saw.”

“Woah t’ere, Scott!” Brian caught a hold of Scott’s arm as he tried too hastily to shuffle away, wanting to put distance between himself and his lover, it seemed, as quickly as possible to avoid the teasing. His foot caught on the rug though and Brian was fortunate to stop his fall, holding him steady for a second as Craig glanced back.

Tyler saw his pale eyes lift and only then he remembered the festive habits he picked up from his mother. No matter where he was, he always hung mistletoe around the house on the same day he put up his Christmas Tree. It was tradition, but tonight was the first night said tradition actually had the chance to play a part.

“Look up, boys,” Craig cooed, looking more excited than anyone as both pairs of blue eyes flashed upwards to look at the green plant. “You know what that means!” Was it normal to be so eager for your boyfriend to kiss someone else?

Tyler didn’t understand it, but the laugh that Marcel let out didn’t seem against it either. Brian just shrugged and Scotty looked ready to pass out. Was he holding his breath?

“Yeah, yeah, you focks. Calm yer tits.”

Brian settled a hand on Scotty’s pink face, tipping it up to lock their eyes and smiling reassuringly. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And that was all it was: modest and respectful.

Craig laughed and Marcel scoffed. “You call that a kiss?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Pussies.” It was a very obvious taunt, nothing more than playful teasing of course, but the spark in the Irishman eyes showed offended competitivity and Tyler sighed.

“You guys are stupid. Go downstairs before I throw you down there myself,” he said and the kiss was forgotten in seconds as Brian jostled Craig back and forth down the stairs.

So he didn’t know why he found it so odd or why it was hard to stop thinking about. Seeing Marcel and Scotty not-so-modestly making out, seeing Scotty and Brian share a very innocent, modest kiss; why did he care so much? Did it mean something to him?

“Alright fuckers, who’s up for another round of Mario Kart?”

A chorus of excited cheers and the hiss of opening bottles surrounded them. Seeking out snacks and drinks, everyone else crowded back in their places at the TV and their silly round of a childish game was forgotten. Instead, they had hours of shouting and cursing and shoving one another.

The results didn’t deter from those that showed previously. It was a unanimous agreement that Brian was an asshole and even he didn’t deny it, Craig cuddled up beneath his arm.

-

They spent several hours playing the silly game before Tyler slammed the controller so hard he cracked it and they decided it was time to stop. None of them were really on the light weight side and making it upstairs wasn’t all that hard. Scotty had enough of a grasp on his surroundings to flick off the Christmas lights, not wanting one to burst during the night.

Other than a slight stumble and slur on words that showed itself here and there, the five of them were managing quite well and Marcel only stumbled twice going up the stairs.

He bumped into Tyler’s back halfway down the hall, giggling and once again reminding Tyler that this get-together was a hilariously stupid idea. Four non-sensical idiots stumbling half-drunk around his house late at night? Something was going to break.

“Oi, Tyler.” He turned, seeing the Irishman’s grin as Marcel leant against him, trying to blink himself awake it seemed. He and Scotty were the tipsiest of all of them, and he showed it as he reached a hand up to get a grip on Tyler’s shirt. Craig and Brian smirked, the both of them far better at handling their liquor. Craig pointed above his head and he just sighed, eyes falling closed. With Marcel leaning heavy and oblivious against him and mistletoe hanging teasingly above his head, unwanted thoughts mingled with his where the alcohol let them linger.

“Marcel,” he nudged the man upright, dark eyes blinking and coming back to where they were.

“Hey, what, huh?” he got out, glancing to their friends before looking up. A smile dropped to his lips and Tyler felt worried at how happy he looked to be in the situation. Did he want to kiss him?

“Go on. Show us a real kiss, Marcie,” Scott teased, hands on his hips to add to his sassy flare.

His boyfriend only laughed, rolling his eyes. Egotistical; he didn’t care about their teasing as he grabbed a fistful of Tyler’s shirt in the other hand too.

“Oh,” he said, grinning, “we will.”

And with that he turned to Ty, grasping his shirt and pulling him down. Not being totally sober, their lips collided rather off-centre, Tyler hunching slightly in his lack of preparation. A wave of surprise hit him a few seconds late as he adjusted the both of them, fingers curling around Marcel’s hips and pulling him closer. He adjusted his posture to stop the strain in his neck and everything moulded together like it was made to.

Marcel’s arm wound over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, other hand holding his jaw and tilting his head to adjust. Their lips moved into place, matching pace, and Tyler melted as the tip of a tongue slipped into the mix.

He didn’t realise his hands had slipped until he caught himself squeezing Marcel’s ass and pulling them closer at the hips. Eager hands dragged down over his chest, pressing palms against his pecs and his shoulders, grasping his biceps with far too much enjoyment.

“Well, fuck.”

“I mean, he didn’t lie.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, make them stop please.”

“I don’t know what ye’re complainin’ about, this is great.”

The kiss lingered, minds drifting without any particular train of thought. And after Marcel spent a few long seconds sucking on Tyler’s bottom lip, he reluctantly drew back and dragged it out from between his teeth. Hesitation. Marcel removed his arm and dropped back onto his heels. Tyler couldn’t help but notice the dilation of his pupils but moved away as Marcel grinned and slapped a hand against Tyler’s chest. They tried to hide how breathless it left them.

“That was hot.” Always one to be blunt, Tyler rolled his eyes and wiped at his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d rather go drink toilet water than taste Scott’s dick on your tongue again. No offense, buddy.”

Amused grin. “None taken, though I brushed my teeth after I blew him this morning. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Grimace. “Okay, gross.”

“Fuck off.” The sleepy drawl followed them as Tyler shoved Marcel into his room, the others unsurprisingly following. He flicked on the small heater to the side and fell lazily atop his bed. Marcel fell to the couch, Craig finding comfort on his new fluffy carpet, and Scott and Brian both joined the tallest on his large mattress.

Scotty’s head made a pillow of Tyler’s stomach, rising and falling with his breaths and Brian happily stole a real pillow to snuggle up with, back against Tyler’s side. He lifted a hand and let it rest on the back of the Irishman’s head, and the whole room settled, breathing deeply.

Though they sought comfort, they were all wide awake.

It was only eleven and their final hour of Christmas was bound to be a fun one.

“So, what now?” Marcel asked and Tyler tried to drown out the memory of his chapped lips and curious tongue. The taste of them clung to his thoughts and refused to be shaken off.

“Hey Brian?” Scotty whispered, giggling to himself at the hilarity of his thoughts. The Irishman hummed in acknowledgement. “Truth or Dare?”

Tyler groaned, feeling the giggles through his shirt when Scott turned to bury his face against the softness of his stomach. Brian laughed also, revelling in the slow head massage he was receiving. “Trut’.”

“Ever had a one-night-stand?”

He didn’t need to think about it. “Yep.”

A noise of surprise and a laugh from the carpet. “Really, with who?”

“Yer Mom.” Again: no thought needed.

Tyler snorted, Marcel letting out a howl of laughter as he clapped his hands together. Scotty released a sound of disapproval and the Irishman giggled to himself at his joke. Craig chuckled but didn’t say anything more.

“Marcel.”

“Really guys?” Tyler was becoming very used to the constant feeling of disappointment when it came to his friend’s go-to entertainment sources. It seemed that being together doubled their immaturity, but the silliness of all of it and the alcohol in his system had him smiling.

It didn’t surprise him that he was ignored, Marcel responding enthusiastically with, “Dare, because I ain’t no bitch.”

“Marcel, get up here ‘nd fight me if ye think ye can talk shit like tha’.” High-pitched giggling. Did they do anything other than giggle and act like teenagers? Tyler had no answer for himself. “I dare you to… come give Tyler a hickey on ‘is t’roat.”

“Okay, I didn’t know you were sixteen, Brian,” Tyler drawled, the giggling proving his point as he swatted his co-worker over the head. Scotty sat up and shuffled to the side to make space as Marcel heaved up onto his feet. “I didn’t say I wanted to be a part of this.” Of course his voice held no real denial of the game’s intentions, sitting up and loosely crossing his legs as Brian did the same. His grin mimicked the Cheshire cat and Tyler glanced to Marcel who climbed onto the mattress and crawled towards him.

“You don’t have to be,” he purred, making Tyler huff dramatically as he ignored the heat in his stomach. “Just sit back and enjoy yourself.” Whispered words put thoughts in his head that really didn’t belong there. With his focus on the sultry smirk he didn’t have the energy to force them out.

He didn’t remember “sit on his lap” being a part of the dare as Marcel got himself comfortable, tucking his head beneath Tyler’s chin and smiling against his skin. Yet his words were caught beneath his tongue and he forgot all about his snarky remark as hot air dripped down his neck.

“Get on with it, Marcel,” Scotty whined, shoving him further against Tyler as Craig clambered up on the mattress as well. Tyler flipped them all off and didn’t expect his heart to stutter so heavily when warm, wet lips pressed against his neck, laying a couple of careful kisses around his Adam’s apple as though deciding where was the best place to leave a mark.

Tyler almost melted when those lips locked onto the sensitive skin and sucked it between eager teeth. “Oh God,” dropped from his mouth before he could think to stop it, head tipping back just slightly to allow Marcel more room as he tongued the patch of skin and sucked painfully hard. He was trying to leave as obnoxious a mark as possible and Tyler’s eyes widened when he subtly rolled his hips against him.

It wasn’t like grinding helped with giving hickeys but Ty’s eyes rolled back into his head, thought forgotten as fingertips pressed into the top of his shoulders.

A few minutes of mostly giggling and a couple of amused wet sounds before Marcel let the skin go and licked his lips, peeling away from the proud hickey he’d left behind. He didn’t notice how Tyler gripped the sheets.

The spell lingered a moment before reality reappeared in Tyler’s mind, and he pushed irritation into his cold blue eyes. Marcel smirked in response to his dry look and Tyler tapped his leg in reminder, trying to think as little as possible about the throbbing patch of skin on his neck and the closeness of their crotches. “I know I’m comfortable but you can get-” He didn’t expect those smirking lips to cover his, sucking at his bottom lip and slipping his tongue into Tyler’s mouth straight away. It was a painfully familiar feeling.

Brian cheered, laughter mingling with the other two’s as they clapped their hands and egged them on. A confused sound got lost between their tongues, Tyler breathing heavy through his nose as Marcel hummed happily and continued to grind his hips down.

Tyler did not remember Brian mentioning this part at all.

When he managed to get a grip on himself, he put his hands to Marcel’s chest and eased them apart. “Okay,” he gasped, thankful the other had stopped his grinding. He never dropped his smirk though. “That’s enough. Get off, you heavy piece of shit.”

He listened and Tyler let himself breathe again, Marcel leaning back against his headboard with that cheeky smile on his face.

“Craig, Truth or Dare?” Attention drifted and the Brit shrugged.

“Dare.” Nonchalant

A grin that focused on the smallest of all five of them. “Make Scotty blush.” The shocked eyes raised but didn’t get the chance to express themselves vocally in time as Craig was removing the distance between them.

The Brit barely hesitated, on his knees to balance as he leant in, cupping Scott’s surprised (and slightly fearful) face with both hands. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered, shuffling closer and very slowly placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Tyler couldn’t look away as he kissed down to Scotty’s jaw, following it up to his ear. “Wish I could show you what else I can do with my mouth,” he murmured, voice low and lips hot against his ear before he pulled Scott’s earlobe between his teeth. Craig was an extremely good actor.

His hand rested comfortably on the man’s thigh, tight and heavy to make sure it wasn’t forgotten as Scotty bit his lip and focussed on breathing. Unsurprisingly, as Craig kissed down to his shoulder, fluster smothered him and his cheeks went from pink to crimson before the Brit was shoved back, finally breaking and laughing.

“Sorry dude,” he apologised, cheeks rosy as well as he ran a hand through his hair. Scotty hid his rosy cheeks with his hands, not wanting to look at his amused boyfriend or anyone else. Craig patted his knee, trying to bite back his proud smile, before his eyes slid to Tyler and he nodded at him. “Truth or dare.”

Roll of the eyes. “Truth, fuck you.”

“Pussy.” Marcel coughed into his sleeve.

“I ain’t suckin’ any dick tonight, fuck off.” His defence provoked laughter and he hummed in irritation. “Get on with it.”

“What’s your sexuality?”

His face softened, the question was simple and curious, unlike “What porn gets you hard?” or “How long do you take to jerk off?” like he’d expected. He twisted his lips in thought. “Pansexual.”

Brian grinned, raising a fist and happily bumping knuckles with him. “Ayy, me too, Tyler!” he said and the man returned the smile, this time his eyeroll was more playful. The Irish enthusiasm was cute, dare he say, and none of them showed any surprise or confusion. They just nodded and Craig smiled.

“Alright Brian, how about you now? Pick your poison.”

“Truth.”

Be nice… or not… “D’you prefer doggy or bein’ ridden?”

At the Irishman’s laugh he realised there really wasn’t a question he could ask that would fluster the man. No matter what he was always cocky and overconfident; if anything the question embarrassed Craig as he frowned in disapproval.

“Hey, who said he topped?”

It was Scotty who actually had a response, hiding his laughter behind his hand with apologetic eyes. “Sorry dude, but you’re not much better than me.”

The rest of them nodded, biting lips to hold laughter and he let out an annoyed “hmph”, frowning and folding his arms. He didn’t have a comment and Tyler admired the red of his ears as he avoided eye contact.

Brian nudged his boyfriend. “Don’t be sad, babe, you’re really hot on top anyway.” To reinforce his response he turned to Tyler all-too casually and nodded. “Yup: bein’ ridden is great.”

“Ew,” left the American’s lips and the other two locals nodded with humoured grimaces. He felt his stomach curl as the image of Craig riding him jumped into mind and he closed his eyes briefly. The heat, the feeling, hands on his chest, sounds leaving his lips… No. He opened his eyes and threw a pillow at Brian. “You’re gross.”

“You wanted to know.” A wink that definitely didn’t make him clench his fists.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Truth.” Marcel responded to the question that hadn’t even been asked when the Irishman dropped his eyes to him. He was far too comfortable, but alike the Brian he was hard to unbalance.

“Marcel, ye got any guilty pleasures? What turns ye on?”

A snort of amusement, Scott’s eyes flaring in fear. “Marcel, don’t you fuckin’ dare…”

Craig clasped his hands together, laughing openly and rocking back and forth. He’d recovered from his grumpiness and the blatant threat showed that the smallest of all five was hiding something. His cheeks were going to become permanently rosy if he blushed any darker and they all waited, knowing Marcel’s lack of shame.

“Lace and panties.” He practically purred the words, Scotty shrieking and smacking him with a pillow.

“Fuck you!” he shouted, falling off the bed to hide from sight in shame. Marcel just grinned, proud of himself.

Craig had fallen face down in the mattress, fake screaming at the internal imagery as Brian fell back on his side with laughter. He held his stomach, wheezing as he tried his best to keep his airflow going.

Tyler’s eyes were wide and as subtly as he could, he dragged a pillow over and hugged it to his chest where it would hide his embarrassing interest in the conversation. First kissing Marcel and having him grind on him unashamedly, then it was thoughts of Craig on top of him, now it was Scotty, flushed red and embarrassed, completely naked other than silky lace panties. He fell back, hands covering his face, and groaned in a way that could pass off as being disgusted.

He was far from it.

“Tyler’s dead,” Marcel stated, giggling to himself in his own hilarity.

“Fuck off,” he murmured, voice muffled into the pillow.

“Yeah, fuck off,” Scotty spat, whiny and childish. They could hear his pout from where he hid.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Scotty, truth or dare?” The man clambered back up onto the bed, cheeks still flushed and Tyler couldn’t really tell if it was more to do with his boyfriend or the alcohol in his system. The way he swayed and blinked widely, he guessed it was the second option.

“Dare because I ain’t no bitch,” he proclaimed, but his eyes still darted around uncertainly and his cheeks still remained scarlet. The attention having shifted; it was easy to forget previous embarrassments.

Tyler pushed himself back upright, still holding his pillow, and Marcel eyed him thoughtfully. His grin was cruel. “Give Tyler a lap dance.”

“What!?”

“Wait, what?”

He and Tyler both spoke at the same time, Scotty groaning loudly as his voice showed off the higher amount of alcohol he’d downed in his frustrations at the Nintendo game. It was definitely settling into his actions too. “Why me!?” he asked and Marcel slid a hand up his lover’s leg.

“Because,” he said, grasping the man’s thigh as he visibly tensed up, “I know how good you are with your hips.”

The statement left enough to the imagination and Tyler clutched his pillow tighter. “Fuck off,” he bit out, shaking his head. “Don’t be dumb, Marcel.”

“Don’t be a pussy, Tyler,” Marcel fired back, grin taunting. “Just sit back and enjoy it. Do we have a chair?”

Brian perked up, stumbling off the bed. “There’s one in the other room, one sec’.” He didn’t hesitate to rush off before the refusals could leave Tyler’s lips, reappearing with a standard tall chair, just a spare he had upstairs if he needed it to reach lights or the smoke detectors. Not for this.

But Marcel was far too excited to see the scene play out, Scotty just watching Tyler with a gaze that looked somewhere between annoyed and thoughtful. The seat was sat in the middle of the space between the bed and the door, giving Scotty more than enough room to walk around it and move his legs.  

Craig dragged Tyler off the bed and Brian stole his pillow, shoving him to his assigned seat as Marcel clapped his hands down on the his shoulders. “One song’ll be enough. Scotty, pick your groove!” he cooed, knowing his lover was the most intoxicated of all of them and extremely easily persuaded either way. If they were sober, he would have been complaining far more. If they were sober, none of this would have been happening anyway.

Tyler shook his head, inhibitions barely existent as Scotty shuffled over to the speaker and phone, picking his song. The mellow beats of Blackbear floated into the room and Craig turned it up until it was filling Tyler’s ears comfortably. In the relatively dim space, Tyler had to focus on his breathing, tucking his feet beneath him and curling his toes.

Just one song. It wouldn’t be too bad?

“Now, no touchin’, TyTy!” Brian sung and took the glare he received with a giggle.

When ‘TyTy’ locked eyes with Scotty he couldn’t look away. It was entrancing how the man walked up to the chair, putting one foot up on the footrest and leaning over him. His hands were heavy on Tyler’s thighs.

Yup. Liquid courage.

Fuck.

Eyes fluttered shut and lips tentatively pressed at the side of his nose, laying light kiss after light kiss down and down towards his lips. Tyler held his breath, the kisses lingering at the corner of his mouth before they hovered just above his. Tongue peeked out, just barely sliding over his bottom lip before Scotty’s pelvis was following his upper body in pushing forward.

His lips moved away and Tyler almost whined, tempted to follow and demand a taste of what he craved. He didn’t.

He thought that maybe if he focused hard enough on the music that filled the room, he’d be able to control himself. It was worrying that the low tones only encouraged the warmth beneath his skin, urging him to do what he wanted and retrieve what he craved.

Holding himself back was incredibly hard.

Scotty dropped his foot back to the ground, straddling him and keeping steady eye contact as he swayed his hips from side to side to the melody. His breath washing over Tyler’s jaw. Fingers curled over rigid shoulders, their tips pressing down as he lowered and lowered with every beat.

Do re mi filled Tyler’s bloodstream with excitement as Scott’s crotch brushed against his with the lightest of touches. Blinding white flared at the edges of Tyler’s vision when Scott pressed down and he had to hold himself back from jerking up into him, clenching his fists. There was no relief as Scotty rolled his hips forward and Tyler thought it impossible for him to get any closer. He also thought it impossible for himself to have this much control but he didn’t want to test his limits.

Eyes tightly shut. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He lifted, chest at Tyler’s face as he stepped up onto the foot rests on either side of the chair. Much higher, he balanced and then dipped down and to the side, swinging left and right and slightly forward with each beat. Those hands crept up Tyler’s neck, one tangling in the short, fluffy hair and the other cupping his neck.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he whispered, barely audible. Tyler was in no position to refuse, tilting his head back and exhaling slowly as Scotty smiled with half-lidded eyes. With the chorus of the song, he swayed faster, defining each beat with a small snap of his hips. “It goes like”—he dropped the song lyrics beneath his breath, popping his hips to each syllable—“do re mi fa so fuckin’ done with you, girl.” With the last few words and the following beat, he sat himself in Tyler’s lap, breath against fluttering eyelashes as he circled his hips heavy and purposeful.

“Oh fuck,” Tyler breathed, the friction doing wonderfully torturous things to his lower half, and Scotty giggled, the sound breathless and not doing him any better. He lingered for half a moment before his weight lifted again and Tyler exhaled. The abuse of his heart slamming against his lungs only made it harder to breathe.

Craig, Brian and Marcel watched, mostly curious but all three enjoying the show. Tyler stared up at the ceiling and tried to contain his heartrate and the heat pooling in his gut.

It didn’t help when Scott shifted back, putting space between their heaving chests, and dragged Tyler’s attention back to his parted lips as he dropped his hand to the edge of his shirt. The breath of a smirk lifted the corners of his lips and Tyler watched, mesmerised as slim fingers pulled the cloth up. His hips pushed forwards, back arched. His tongue peaked out from between gleaming teeth. The shirt lifted to reveal his smooth stomach, the gentle outlines of muscle there but not defined and Tyler couldn’t look away.

Even if he did, Scotty’s intoxication pushed him further, holding his shirt up and leaning forward to reach for Tyler’s hand. Thin fingers wound around his wrist and Tyler’s stomach flipped as his hand was brought to the smooth, warm skin. He was invited to explore and there was no way he wouldn’t, fingers immediately skimming up to his collarbone before dragging down with an almost possessive touch. Scotty didn’t falter, the contact luring him closer. Tyler kept his hand braced lightly against Scott’s ribs, unwilling to remove it from beneath the shirt even when Scott let it fall back over his arm.

His bottom lip bloomed with pain beneath his teeth when Scotty rocked forward once again, grinding without hesitation this time as the beat urged him on, still controlling the tempo of his movements. He cupped Tyler’s jaw as he moved, looking down to fluttering eyelashes and parted lips. His breathless smile driving anyone and everyone insane, another chorus running through him as he mumbled the tune beneath his breath.

The rotation of his hips drove up a storm beneath him, feeling another hand join the first beneath his shirt, the two dropping to squeeze his hips. A pressure of control and possession, keeping him close and resisting the urge to press his face to Scott’s neck, resisting the urge to bite at the skin and suck until bruises bloomed like roses.

And Tyler definitely wasn’t the only one enjoying the friction. Big hands spread over the back of Scott’s hips and slid down to grasp his jean-clad ass. He couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his gut when Scott inhaled sharply, Tyler’s fingers squeezing and pulling him forward to grind them both together. There was a relieving satisfaction to push up against the smaller frame, holding them against one another for a moment far too short for Tyler’s liking. It was painful to let him go when he pulled back and dropped to the carpet, but the look in those dark eyes showed he was far from finished.

The eye contact held intensity like a forest fire spreading between them, pale eyes watching Scott step around to his side and swing one leg over him. Those slender fingers braced themselves atop Tyler’s knees, once again stepping up to hook his feet on the little bars. Tyler almost started bleeding from his nose as Scotty bent down low, stretching his legs and arching his back.

Brian catcalled, laughing at Tyler as he stared. Scotty dipped, bending his legs and grinding in the air far too sexily for his own good. Tyler’s blood boiled in a frustratingly good way and beneath his confusion, he knew he couldn’t help himself. It only seemed to encourage Scotty’s hips when long fingers slid up the side of his thigh, the other hand unseen where it gripped the chair to keep grounded.

Although the whole event was extremely enjoyable and a taste of something he knew he wasn’t supposed to have, a taste of something he knew he wasn’t supposed to enjoy so thoroughly; he had to stay aware of the eyes watching them and the reality that it was all just a dumb game.

A game of Truth or Dare, he told himself as his fingertips dug into the muscle of Scott’s thigh. Yet when the smaller man glanced over his shoulder with a thick mix of intoxication and arousal in his eyes and planted himself heavy in Tyler’s lap, rolling his hips back to press his ass firmly against Tyler’s obviously interested crotch…

Tyler saw stars.

Scotty leaned back against him, head beside his as he lifted his hips and rolled them back down. Fingernails dragged white lines into the wood of the chair and Tyler’s entire stomach exploded into red hot flames. He slammed his eyes shut, licking his lips and pursing them.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Jesus Christ,” Tyler hissed as fingers pushed up from his shoulder to the back of his neck, giving the dancer support to thrust up and grind down to the beat of the music. His movements were smooth and confident, and every single brush of contact pushed Tyler further and further away from his inhibitions.

Marcel had been damn-fuckin’-right about Scott being good with his hips. The man was fucking flawless and if the song went for much longer, Tyler didn’t know if his sanity would remain intact. He’d torn a shred of skin from his lip with his teeth, tasting the iron of his blood and not sparing a second to worry about the damage he was dealing. There were far more important things on his mind.

Like Scott’s other hand, sliding up and down his thigh as the smaller man let the whisper of a moan drift from his lips with his sigh, head tipping back just slightly as he really thrust his hips back. The circling of his hips remained planted in Tyler’s lap, fingers reaching around the side of his neck before dragging back and leaving hot lines of pain on the skin he pinched. He rode out the last of the song with closed eyes, Tyler counting out the seconds before it was finished and not relaxing until the movements of the ass on his crotch slowed to a stop and Craig was turning off the speakers.

“Holy shit, that was better than I thought it would be,” Marcel commented, his tone holding a dry edge as he licked his lips and blinked. The expected laugh that would accompany his usual humoured voice was absent. Scotty pushed forward and hopped off Tyler’s lap, turning with eyes that didn’t know where to settle. He licked his lips nervously and shifted on his feet, pants uncomfortable.

Brian threw a pillow at Tyler, grin relentless as he dropped his eyes to the guy’s crotch. “Cover yourself, ye nasty boy,” he teased.

It took him a few seconds to recover his voice before he dropped a malice-lacking, “Fuck off,” and got up, returning to the bed but avoiding proximity with any of his friends. Scotty glanced at him, licking his lips, and grinned, still looking rather out-of-it.

It was unsurprising that he wasn’t embarrassed at all. The intoxication lingered in his eyes where his arousal faded, his body catching up to his mind and recovering from the whole ordeal. Tyler rolled his eyes, hoping to brush it off just the same, but he was far from drunk enough to do so. It was lucky he could pretend, pillow once again in his lap and suspicious look back in his eyes.

Scotty’s grin was cocky, aimed at the man he’d successfully tortured and teased. Tyler waited.

“Craig, truth or dare?” A giggle held beneath his tongue.

“Dare.” The Brit wore an intrigued smirk.

There was that giggle… “Make Tyler come.”

“NO!”

A pillow to the face had Scott falling back and giggling uncontrollably, Craig covering his laughing grin and Brian chanting, “Do it, do it, do it!”

“Fuck off, the game’s over. You’re all horny teenagers with nothing better to do.” The weak attempts at insults fell short as they continued laughing, the high-pitch of Marcel’s voice forcing a small smile onto his lips. They were too stupidly hilarious, he couldn’t really be annoyed.

Brian raised his brows, grinning. “Says the guy wit’ a boner.”

He got hit with a pillow also, but Scott was already off the bed and on the carpet and Craig was clutching his stomach in pain. Their idiotic hilarity mixed with the alcohol couldn’t ever not be funny and Tyler just shook his head and stubbornly pretended he wasn’t wearing a fond smile too.

By the time their giggles faded, they accepted the silence around them to zone out and enjoy the night. Not a single one of them was upset or uncomfortable or anything less than content and it was only the sound of soft breathing that filled the room.

Tyler kept his hands over his face, his lower half painful as he tried to banish any inappropriate thoughts from his mind. It was far harder than it seemed and he couldn’t stop thinking about the evenings events. The Christmas party had gone down paths he didn’t think were even accessible and he didn’t know how many mistakes he’d made, if he’d really made any at all.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about his friends. His friends who were all comfortable with anything and everything. His friends who were far too good for him. His friends who were already dating each other.

His thoughts were plagued with confusion and questions and hopes that were way too irrational to dwell on. He couldn’t help it. The kissing, the dancing, the small comments and the looks shared between them; he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just fun and games or if there was something else none of them were willing to address.

Did he want it to be addressed? Would he prefer to let it lie and pretend it didn’t exist?

He huffed a small sigh and Brian hummed softly in the silence, Craig resting on his back as he lay on his front. “What’re ye sighing about over t’ere, Tyler?”

A laugh followed his exhale and the others listened lazily as he tried to collect an answer in his tipsy mind. “Nothing you guys would understand, don’t worry about it.” His laugh sounded more like a cough.

Shifting around the mattress. He didn’t lift his hands to look until a weight settled on the pillow atop his chest. When he spread his fingers to see, he met blue eyes in the dim light, curious but ever cheerful.

“Well now I just wanna know,” Brian said, chin resting on his arms as he lay half on top of Tyler, Craig left to stretch out in the space by himself. “What’s up, big guy? It’s bloody Christmas an’ we’re having a great time. Notin’ to be sad about, right?”

He hummed, closing his eyes and dropping his head back, lifting and lowering Brian with every breath. “Yeah, I know, we’re just having fun. I’m fine, dude, don’t worry.” Was he?

“You’re not,” Marcel sung softly, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “You’re also a trash liar; have been for, what, eight years? Nothing’s changed.” It was irritating how they could read him so well but he couldn’t hate them for it.

“Mmm.” A soft agreement from Scott, then a hesitant: “I, er, ‘m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

But he shook his head. “No, you didn’t. It was, er…” He swallowed. “Fun… I’m just…” How disgusted would his friends be if he told them he’d fallen in love with them? He didn’t want to know. Years on years. It took him a single night to realise and the contents of his chest felt heavy. “I’m fine. We’ve just been having some fun, it’s no big deal.” He couldn’t determine whether he was brushing off their concern or reassuring himself.

Craig coughed lightly. “Fun…” he repeated.

“That’s all it’s been.” Tyler spoke to himself more than he did to anyone else and fear rose when he realised how he sounded, how open and readable he was. “Right?”

“Has it?” Scotty asked, voice small and timid and Tyler felt his heart swell for reasons he didn’t want to let himself believe.

Silence.

“If what we’re trying to say is that we don’t want to regret all the shit we’ve done tonight then I’ll say I enjoyed kissing Tyler.” Marcel had unbelievable amounts of courage, Tyler decided.

“I mean…” Craig swallowed thickly. “The proximity has been really nice.”

Brian nodded, felt against Tyler’s chest. He giggled lightly, a warning about his following words. “Y’know, I wouldn’t refuse the chance t’ see Scotty in lace.”

As quick as lightning, the shorter one responded with a scoff. “You gotta work for this ass, fuckboy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tyler murmured. “Are you guys fucking with me? I won’t be able to live with myself if this is all just a joke.”

Craig laughed, a freeing sound. Relief coated his words. “Why would we?”

Brian’s fingertips brushed against his cheekbone and the Irishman pulled Tyler’s hands away from his face. He stubbornly kept his eyes shut and ignored the moving around. What if he opened them and everything had just been a dream?

“Does this feel like a joke t’ you?”

Before he could ask what the man was talking about, lips were closing over his. He didn’t let his eyes open still and didn’t even consider not kissing back. Brian’s hair was soft between his fingers and he relaxed under the gentle touch.

Warm. Reassuring. The hint of a smile.

“Cute,” Scotty whispered and Brian laughed against his lips, pulling back to press a few gentle chaste kisses to his bottom lip in his laziness. It was casual. Comfortable. Content.

Tyler exhaled. “So it’s not bad that all of… this has been really good? Like, really, really good?”

Pretty giggling. “No, Tyler.”

He wound his arms around Brian and the Irishman tugged the pillow out from between them. A content sound left Brian’s throat and he tucked his head into Tyler’s neck. It felt far too right.

Marcel hummed softly and Craig voiced what they were all thinking. “So, this is normal, right? Uncommon but… what was it called?”

“A polyamory.” Scotty’s smile could be heard.

“We can… all be toget’er then?” Brian whispered against Tyler’s neck, sounding fearful though he tried not to. They were all swimming in unknown waters, but they were thinking the same things, hoping for the same things. It was hard not to be scared but the hopeful excitement was worth it. “Like, all be boyfriends?”

“If that’s what we all want.”

Silence let them think about it, the entire night ahead of them.

“Does anyone not want that?” Tyler asked and it was as though he hadn’t said a thing, the silence lingering. It was hard to be convinced. “Brian?”

“I want it.” His lips dragged against Tyler’s skin when he spoke, not confident enough to say it to the room around them.

“Marcel?”

“Fuck yeah. Tonight has been incredible.” As casual and comfortable as ever.

“Scott?”

“I like you guys. All of you. It’s fuckin’ hard not to.” Blunt but honest.

“Craig? You too?”

“Yeah.” Shy and scared.

“Then…” He couldn’t stomach saying it himself.

He just listened to the shuffling by his feet until Brian was laughing and another body climbed up to his other side, collapsing against him and humming happily beneath his arm. Someone leaned over Brian, dropping a kiss to Tyler’s temple before dropping one to the back of Brian’s head.

A soft edge of intimacy

Marcel curled up beside the Irishman after falling back and Craig found comfort between Tyler’s legs, laying a pillow over his stomach and resting his head on top. “Then what?”

The sigh that left Marcel’s lips was fond and amused. “You guys are so good at avoiding things,” he teased, playing with Tyler’s fingers. “Craig and Brian, would you two like to join Scotty’s and my relationship as a fully equal poly?”

“Yes.”

“Definitely.”

They were eager to agree and Tyler grinned into the darkness.

“Tyler?” Scotty cooed, finding more confidence as he kissed the man’s shoulder. “Would you like to join Brian, Craig, Marcel and me in our relationship?”

The silly formality of their words made them laugh to themselves and Tyler let his head fall to the side, dropping a kiss just below Scotty’s hairline. “Yes. How could I fuckin’ not?”

And for a moment they all breathed in the silence, too happy and excited to believe what was actually happening. The moment seemed too unreal in the latest hours of the day, different limbs tangling with different people and breathing far too slow and gentle and happy; he didn’t know if he wanted to believe it or not.

But it was real, Brian lazily kissing at Tyler’s neck while he carded his fingers through Scotty’s hair. Marcel drawing his fingers up and down Craig’s shoulder and arm and all five of them just breathing and smiling and loving every second of it.

Craig was the first to break it, mumbling into the pillow. “So, boyfriends?”

Hums of approval, little agreements. Five smiles in a dark room.

Tyler hated to break it. “Well this is amazing and I really don’t want to move, but I’m wearing skinny jeans and there’s no way I’m sleeping in them.”

Heavy groans surrounded him and Scotty’s grip tightened. “No, not moving.”

Tyler huffed, smile on his lips. “Yes, you are.” Using as much strength as he could so late, he pushed up against the several limbs that lazily tried to weigh him down until he was sitting upright and his boyfriends were whining and complaining. “Stop being so dramatic. Half of you are wearing jeans too. Get up, you idiots.”

“Noooo,” Brian whined, hugging his waist as Scott and Craig both detached with acceptance.

Tyler wriggled his way out of the loose holds and off the bed, glancing back at the dishevelled mess of sleepiness with a fond smile. He fetched a pair of sweatpants and dropped his jeans, kicking them off.

“Nice ass, hot stuff,” Marcel called, Scotty cheering with a laugh.

He flipped them off as he pulled on his comfortable pants, thankful that his arousal had gone down as he pulled off his shirt.

“Fuck.”

He glanced back in confusion at Craig who was very focused on his back, brows raised and eyes half-lidded. “Up until now, I never realised how hot you are.” He swallowed and Tyler laughed nervously, hiding his blush by facing away as he pulled out a singlet and tugged it on.

He heard a zipper and a grunt, turning back to see Craig half out of his jeans with Marcel giggling as he tried to help get them off him.

“Just get up, you lazy ass,” Tyler chastised.

“I can’t be fucked.” Reasonable response. Scotty shimmied out of his jeans and pulled on the sweats Tyler threw to him. Craig did the same after Brian joined in to help Marcel, and they shoved the blankets back, collecting the pillows and settling them back where they belonged.

When Tyler flopped down on the bare sheets, they laughed and giggled, pulling at his hair and shirt to tease him until he turned over and sat up.

“Tyler?” Eyelashes batted.  

“Yes, Craig.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Red cheeks and stuttering. “I, er, I g-guess?”

The others watched curiously, little smiles and laughs at the nerves Tyler showed. It wasn’t often they saw their friend so uncertain seeing as he was usually one to be in control of himself and his emotions. They savoured the moments seeing him like this, savoured the pinkness of his cheeks.

And Craig didn’t hesitate, pushing forward against Tyler’s chest with a grin and clambering onto his lap. Tyler allowed himself to be pushed down beneath Craig as the Brit fit their lips together, and his eyes rolled back and shut as his shock melted into sweet enjoyment. Craig’s lips weren’t as chapped as Marcel’s or Brian’s and the man’s whole body swayed with the motion of their kiss. He kissed with more of an open, honest touch; slow and reassuring although eager. His hands settled on Tyler’s chest and Tyler settled his own hands on his boyfriend’s hips.

They barely noticed the soft giggling as Scotty slapped Craig’s ass. Marcel pulled Brian close to connect their lips after a small laugh of, “C’mere, you fuck.”

When Craig’s lips drew back and he sat up, Scotty swooped in and they tangled their tongues with a heated eagerness, hands in hair. Tyler propped himself up on his elbows but didn’t complain about the view as the two sighed and hummed into each other’s mouths, tugging one another closer as Scotty nibbled at the Brit’s lip and sucked on his tongue.

“This doesn’t seem real,” he commented, falling back to have Marcel lean over him and lock their lips upside-down. His approach was far more affectionate than before and Tyler couldn’t fight down his smile, reaching one hand up to steady against his new lover’s jaw.

“I’m happy too,” Scotty said, pecking at Marcel’s lips as Craig reached for him next.

Different lips, different kisses, different tastes. They spent following hours talking about nothing and everything as they draped over each other and shared kisses. Getting used to the situation was more exciting than they thought it would have been, the ability to kiss more than one person, to cuddle with more than one person, to openly love and appreciate more than one person; they couldn’t get enough of each other.

It was a night that couldn’t have been recreated, with feelings that couldn’t have been rebuilt. The Christmas party had started with two couples and a single man and ended with a five-man polyamory. Falling asleep beneath two bodies with one hand in soft silver hair and the other around a waist of dark skin; Tyler knew there was nothing more comfortable in the world.

-

anon’s ask

note: ok so this is the longest req and fic ive ever posted. 13k.... holy fuckin shit.

well i hope you enjoyed this overflow of.... everything.... i hope the anon who requested it sees it too!! i hope they enjoy and i hope it is what they were hoping for, if not better.

also..... 1.5k lap dance scene? no regrets. none. 

Leaving 0.1

"So when does your flight leave?" A voice over a Skype call asked, watching as a cute boy shoved clothes into a suitcase.

"Tonight, around midnight," Craig answered, grunting as he struggled to zip the suitcase close. "God dammit-" The voice laughed at him. "Don't laugh, you dick! It's really full!!"

"It's hilarious to see your stupid ass struggle with a fucking suitcase, of all things."

"Shut the fuck up, Tyler." Craig laughed with him, nonetheless.

Tyler glanced at the clock at the bottom of his screen. "So it's, like... what, 8:00 PM for you?"

"8:30, yeah." Craig grunted one last time as he finally closed his last suitcase. He slumped into his computer chair, glancing around his empty room. Most of his things were sold or tossed. He was bringing a suitcase of clothes and his computer stuff, which he still needed to pack.

Tyler smiled. "You gonna get some sleep before then?"

"I-" A notification popped up on his computer. After reading it, Craig sighed.

"What?"

"It's James."

"That dickwad again?" Tyler made a face, clearly displeased.

"He's taking all of this hard. He wants to talk again tonight."

"You gonna humor him?"

"Might as well." Craig sighed, and typed a message back. They began to argue back and forth. Tyler could clearly tell Craig was distressed over it.

"Dude, just ignore him. He isn't worth your time."

Craig was silent for a moment. He groaned and dropped his head on his desk. "I can't. He's outside my house."

"Right fucking now? Are you fucking kidding m-"

"CRAIG. JAMES IS OUTSIDE. GET DOWN HERE! NOW!!"

Craig looked up at Tyler, dreading every bit of what was to come next.

"Four hours, not four days."

"God I hope so," Craig mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I'll text you later, Ty."

"Let me know how it all goes, 'kay?"

"Sure thing." Craig gave him a tired smile before ending the call.

"CRAIG!?"

Craig sighed, rubbing his face. "COMING!"

~*~*~*~*~

Airport 0.2

**If you want to read Craig's conversation with Tyler, you can read it on Tap, unless it still isn't working, then I'll make a separate book for texts. This is just so people don't have to bother with texts if they don't care about them. If you don't read the texts or don't have access to Tap, you won't miss much. Now this may be a really stupid thing, but as you'll find out in the fourth part, this us experimently. Thanks for your time, enjoy the second part.

Craig shoved his suitcase into the backseat, closing the door with a tired sigh. James looked at him, concern on his face. "I really don't think you leaving is the best idea, honey..."

Craig looked at him, tired, before getting in the passenger seat. "It's exactly what I need if I want to be a game designer."

James slid into the driver's seat, sighing, "I know, but is that what you really want?"

"My answer is the same as it was an hour ago: Yes." James sighed for the umpteenth time, and started the car. "I have a life and a job I want to pursue. Why aren't you happy I'm doing something I love?" He said nothing, so Craig remained quiet as he pulled out of the driveway.

On their way to the airport, Craig got a message from Tyler. He talked to him for a little while, ignoring how James looked over at him constantly. Craig knew James was jealous of the attention Tyler got, even though James had no idea who Tyler was, but it was something he was just going to have to get over.

But, knowing him, he would bug him about it until he got what he wanted.

"Who are you talking to?" James questioned, letting his eyes slip over to Craig.

"I'm letting Tyler know we're on our way to the airport, and reaffirming the time he'll be at the airport to pick me up in the next twelve hours." Craig continued to type away on his phone. Really, he was telling Tyler about the hour long debate he had with James, and how ridiculous he was being about him leaving. Craig was so utterly annoyed with James, he was dreading the next half hour of driving.

"... oh."

Another moment of silence before James pestered him again. "What are you talking about now?"

"Mom messaged me."

"Oh..."

More silence.

"What if this guy isn't who you think he is? What if he's a bad person? What if this was a mistake?"

"I've known him for almost two years, James. And it was my idea to move, not his. He just offered his place to me until I could get my own." Craig was really, really trying to be patient. He really was.

James didn't say anything after that, and for that, Craig was grateful. By the time they got to the airport, it was a quarter after 11:00 PM. James helped him carry his things inside. They found where Craig's plane would be leaving when James stopped him with tears in his eyes.

His voice broke as he spoke, "Craig... I don't want to lose you. You're everything to me, you're all I have..." Craig's vision blurred, and his heart clenched painfully. "Please, please don't go..."

Craig kept his eyes on the ground, guilt creeping into his mind. What if this was a bad idea? What if it turned out badly? Maybe James was right, maybe he needed to stay here...

"... You always say that..." Craig's voice was soft. He was afraid if he spoke any louder, he would cave in on himself. "You always say I'm everything to you and everything you have and... and yet every time, it ends with me bruised, and broken, and you're happy as can be..."

"Craig..."

"You can't... You can't guilt trip me into staying, James. You...don't control what I do and say. It was never something you were meant to do and..." And yet you did it anyway. Repeatedly. All the time. And it terrifies me to stay here longer than I need to. "...I loved you once. I don't feel the same anymore."

They were both quiet for a while. Craig was afraid to look up and see the painful expression of his ex. He kept his cool when James stepped forward and hugged him. He gasped when James tightened his hold and whispered into his ear. The words sent shivers down his spine, and froze him to the bone. James pulled away and walked past him, leaving Craig panting, wide-eyed.

He collected himself and quickly dragged his suitcases behind him.

~*~*~*~*~

Flight, Tyler 0.3

*If you want to see their texts, refer to Quietly Burning Messages on Tap, unless it isn't working, then refer to QBM here on Wattpad. There are two different scenes where they text.

On the plane, five minutes before takeoff, Craig was telling Tyler about what happened before James left. His stomach was turning, he felt lightheaded and sick to his stomach. He wanted to cry, but he refused to disturb the annoyed male next to him.

The conversation came to an abrupt end when the plane was about to take off. They bid each other goodbye as a flight attendant asked him, once more, to put his phone away.

The flight went by quickly. His anxiety had exhausted him, thus letting him fall asleep quickly. He jolted awake as the plane landed. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his face and discovering he had drool on the corner of his mouth. Gross.

Getting off the plane was easy. Finding his suitcases? Not so much. He was smart, and tied a brightly colored piece of cloth to the handle of each bag, but they took forever to come around. Once they did, Craig found the nearest seats and stole one, getting out his phone and turning it on. He yawned quietly, rubbing his eye as the screen blinked to life. He had a few goofy texts from Tyler, which made him smile brightly. The conversed back and forth for a small while. Excitement flowed through him when Tyler said he was looking for him. He was about to reply when someone plucked his phone out of his hands.

"What the-" Craig looked at the thief, annoyed and confused as hell, but it all disappeared with a grin. He stood and tackled Tyler with a hug, squeezing the life out of him. Tyler didn't seem to mind, as he laughed and hugged back, making him feel secure and safe. "Finally."

"Yeah, no kidding?" They pulled away, and grinned at each other. "I don't think I've properly introduce myself. I'm Tyler." Tyler returned his phone, and shook Craig's hand.

"I'm Craig." Craig was giddy with happiness and excitement.

"Ready to get settled in?"

"I will be when I get coffee in my system and oh my god you got me coffee." Tyler laughed, holding the large cup out to him. Craig was quick to burn the top of his mouth. He moaned quietly, "holy shit you even got what I like."

"Told you 20 questions wasn't stupid."

"You're a saint, bless you."

Tyler laughed, grabbing Craig's bag and slinging it over his shoulder, then getting a hold of all of his suitcases. He struggled for a moment,"Jesus Christ, I don't know how you managed this."

"Sheer will and determination, my good friend." Craig watched as he struggled a little more,frowning. "Here, let me-"

Tyler slapped his hand. "No. I can do it, I got it. Let's get you out of here and into a restaurant. I'm thinking takeout, what do you say?"

Craig beamed. "Tyler I could marry you. Yes please."

They made a beeline towards the exit, food on their minds and coffee in their systems. By the time they reached the doors, Craig was finished with his coffee and had tossed the cup in the trash.

"Damn."

"Thank you." Craig reached for his suitcases. "Let me-"

"-Nope, I'll put these in the back. Go sit your pretty ass down and relax. Post-flights suck balls, it's going to be hell for you for the next few days, so it's my job, as your loving host, to make it as great as possible."

Craig dropped his hand and laughed, shaking his head. "Dunno what I did to deserve a friend like you, Ty."

Tyler froze a moment, but he quickly came back with, "With the shit you've been through? You deserve the entire world and more," as he shoved Craig's luggage into the back of his trunk. He missed the shocked look on Craig's face, and the blush that accompanied it. Craig quickly climbed into the passenger seat, and his stomach grumbled at him. Once Tyler was in the truck, they buckled up and headed out to stuff their faces.

~*~*~*~*~

New Home 0.4 (my personal favorite of these four)

"This smells like heaven."

"It tastes even better." Tyler laughed at him as Craig shoved his nose into the plastic takeout bag, inhaling the godly smell through his nose and groaning.

After they ordered and picked up their food, Tyler drove them back to his apartment to dig into the glorious takeout and get Craig settled into his new home. As they pulled up to his place, Tyler glanced over at Craig. "It's Thursday, right?"

Craig looked at him, curiously, "Yeah? Why?"

Tyler nodded, more to himself, and got out of the truck. "I'll tell you over food. Let's get you inside, first." Craig couldn't agree more.

Once inside, Tyler set two of Craig's suitcases behind a couch and took the food from Craig. Craig set his duffel and small suitcase next to his other stuff, and took a moment to look around Tyler's place. It surprised him how well kept everything was, and how big and expensive it all looked. It made him feel slightly out of place, like he asked too much to stay in a place like this. The part of him that believed, from the beginning, that he didn't belong here and he didn't deserve to be here was slowly growing larger.

"Hey." Tyler grabbed Craig's attention away from his wandering thoughts. "Food is gonna get cold with all that thinking you're doing. Get over here and stuff your face with me." He smirked when Craig laughed, noticing how he gave in and relaxed.

They sat down at the table, and dug in.

"You weren't fucking kidding, holy shit," Craig mumbled in between bites.

"Right? Best shit around."

They ate in silence for a while enjoying the flavors they shoved down their throats.

"So." Tyler swallowed. "Was the flight okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I slept through it all. I was pretty exhausted after, uh, the thing."

Tyler twirled his fork, eyeing Craig. "Right. Sleep okay?"

"Dreamless and quick, which I'm happy about." Craig pointed his fork at Tyler, "What was that earlier about today being Thursday?"

"Oh yeah. I have a thing planned Saturday. I'm meeting up with family at a bar around 8:00. You feeling up to that?"

Craig chewed his food slowly for a moment. "Like... Meet your family?"

"Yeah. Well- they're not blood family, but they're the best family i could ask for."

It never crossed Craig's mind that he knew nothing about Tyler's family. Hesitantly, he asked, "Oh, so not your parents or anything?"

Tyler's shoveling of food slowed for a moment. "Uh, no. No parents."

Shit, did I mess something up? "Oh... Sorry, um... what happened?"

Tyler glanced over at Craig, who was quietly scraping his food into a pile. He smiled, "It's a long story I'll have to tell you another time."

Craig kicked himself, feeling terrible. "Oh, okay, s-sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"Hey, it's cool. Not upset over it."  

They finished up their meal, Tyler breaking the thin ice they were treading on by nudging him and asking if he wanted to play COD. Craig's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and it was the most adorable thing Tyler has ever seen (well, no, it actually isn't. He's seen Craig get angry over hiccups, and get flustered by an onslaught of compliments Tyler tossed his way, when they first video called).

Within the next ten minutes, they were shouting at each other and elbowing each other to get the other to fuck up. The switched back and forth between zombies and multiplayer, having the best first night they could ever ask for. By the time Craig began to tire, it was almost 3 AM.

"Shit, I didn't mean to keep you up so late, man," Craig yawned as Tyler stretched. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's all good. Not tired yet anyway."

"But tired of COD?"

"Hell yeah." Craig laughed, shutting down the console and putting the controllers on charge. When he was finished, he turned to look at Tyler, only to find him opening a glass door to a balcony. Tyler glanced back, and smiled. Craig couldn't help but smile back, his cheeks burning. Tyler stepped into the chilly morning, and leaned against the stone, staring out into the city. Quietly as he could manage, Craig joined him, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapping it around both of them.

They were quiet for a while, just watching the city as it went on with its busy self. They shared the blanket, shoulders pressed against each other. It was quiet where they were, but if you listened hard enough, you could hear sirens and city noise coming from the cluster of lights on the ground.

"I bet the sky is gorgeous back in Ireland," Tyler whispered, looking at the almost black sky.

"You don't see views like this," Craig said quietly, eyes on the city.

They enjoyed their sights, content with the silence between them. A thought crossed Craig's mind at random, almost startling him.

"...Ty?"

"Hmm."

"Did...you mean what you said?" A pause. "I know it was a bit ago, l-like a week or more? But, u-um..."

Tyler looked at Craig, surprised. His focus was on the city, his eyes darting back and forth. "Of course," Tyler said, quietly. "Every word." Craig couldn't help but smile, and laugh a little. Tyler looked at him, smiling despite his confusion, "What's so funny?"

Craig met his gaze. Tyler had done so much for him over the past two years. He was everything he needed when no one else was there. When his parents gave him hell for wanting to design games, Tyler praised him and encouraged him with love a parent should give. When high school kicked his ass and pushed him around, Tyler helped him up and smiled, and joked and laughed until Craig forgot his problems. When James took control over his life and abused his health, Tyler gave him choices, and comfort, and a way out.

Craig broke out of his thoughts when Tyler touched his cheek, concerned. Craig's eyes burned, and his chest felt tight. "Hey... hey, what's wrong?"

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, tears spilled down his face. He stumbled over his words to try and explain what he was feeling, "I just. It-It doesn't- I don't- wh-what did I do to deserve you-ou, I-I- I don't und-derstand, I-I-" His shoulders were shaking and his chest heaved and hitched as he sobbed quietly and covered his face.

Tyler was there, as he always was when Craig was having a break down, whispering comforting words into his ear, "Hey, hey..it's okay. You deserve the world, Mini, all of it and so much more." It was different this time, because he wasn't whispering to him through a pair of ear buds. Tyler could wrap his arms around him and let him rest his head on his shoulder, rub his back and shush him gently as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed into the gross mess he knew he was. It was different, he felt secure and safe and away from everything he grew up with and he was so utterly relieved that he couldn't help but grip his t-shirt and pour his heart out into the open air around him.

Craig told Tyler just how happy he was. He told him how safe he felt and how relieved he was, how sorry he was for everything and how he wished he moved sooner. He told him he loved him, too, and how he felt as if he didn't deserve the whole world and more. He soaked his shirt with tears, and apologized more than once. Craig told him he couldn't bring himself to let go of him because he was afraid he would wake up and Tyler would be gone. And it terrified him, because he didn't want to go back.

And Tyler was there, gently rubbing his back and listening to every word he said. And he made some joke about not getting a refund on his ticket, and it made Craig laugh wetly, but laugh nonetheless. And he was there, and he was real.

And Craig was finally safe.

With that, the brunette rushed from the room, barely giving the tallest time to admire his ass before he was gone. He lifted the phone back to his ear. “Delirious, shut the fuck up.”

“C’mon, I have Buddy to keep me company,” he whined.

“Jonathan.”

He huffed a sigh. “Yes, Luke?”

“We planned this dinner to be together, not just to go to a fancy restaurant.” He threw his towel into the bathroom, slipping on comfortable shoes and hurrying out the front. Ryan appeared beside him, donning comfortable clothes and a happy but concerned smile. “The reservation can be postponed. We can go another time. Tonight we just want to have dinner together, like we haven’t been able to do for ages, okay?”

Silence greeted him, the other man obviously fighting between being stubborn and being grateful. Luke smiled at Ryan in victory as they hurried through the light rain and hopped into the car. The brunette leaned close to Luke, speaking to the phone: “We’ll be there in three minutes, baby, boil the kettle and stay warm!”

A grunt of disapproval accompanied the sigh of defeat their boyfriend let out. “Drive safe,” was all he said before hanging up and allowing Luke to put his phone in his back pocket.

The drive was short, though not complete without Luke’s usual complaint of why on Earth he didn’t live with both boyfriends. Having to drive those few minutes through four sets of traffic lights and two main roads was always too far to venture in order to see one third of their relationship. Ryan just laughed, a promise of “Soon, Toonzy,” leaving his lips like every other time.

Ryan almost tripped three times while rushing to the elevator and along the corridor to reach Jonathan’s apartment. He held a bag to his chest and knocked on the door with his knee, too impatient to wait for Luke to catch up and knock for him. The second he heard the weak voice call out, “It’s open,” he pushed through the door and vanished into the apartment.

By the time Luke had followed him in and locked the door, Ryan had the stove on and ingredients cooking. “Don’t make a mess of my damn kitchen!” He couldn’t help but smile at the husky, broken voice of their boyfriend. The younger man appeared, shuffling into the kitchen with an oversized blanket covering him completely and pooling around his feet. He tripped over it every few steps, thin fingers clutching the ends of it to hold it tightly around him.

“You look like shit.” Luke couldn’t help but be brutally honest as he draped an arm around his sickly-looking lover. Jon sniffed, eyes red and watery above his pout.

“Fuck you,” he spat pitifully, stubbornly snuggling into him. Luke nearly fell as the shorter man allowed all of his weight to depend on him, thankful for his strength to hold the both of them upright. By Jon’s smirk, he knew what he did and didn’t feel sorry in the slightest.

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, pouring hot water into three cups holding teabags. His soft green eyes widened. “Holy shit, you look like you’re dying,” he exclaimed. Luke snickered at the insulted look Jon adopted.

“Wow, good to see you two fuckers. I’ve missed your ugly mugs too. Get out of my house, you assholes,” he muttered, wriggling out of his boyfriend’s hold to shuffle across the floor. Any time he caught either man’s eye, he glared and stuck his bottom lip out like a five year old.

Handing the spoon to Luke, Ryan curled his arms around the youngest of their trio and let his head rest on his shoulder. “You know that’s not what we mean,” he said, pressing a kiss to Jon’s jawline. “We love you, whether you’re sick or not. Right Luke?” he waited, Jonathan studying his emerald eyes with a distrustful frown. After a few long seconds of silence, Ryan turned to glare at Luke who was pretending to scroll through his phone. “Right, Luke?” he repeated.

“Sure.”

Jonathan grunted. “Bitch.” He reluctantly allowed himself to be embraced by his more lovable boyfriend, glaring over his shoulder at the oldest who just snickered in amusement. “Ohmie, can we dump him? I don’t want him anymore, he’s mean.” Luke’s eyes twinkled with a cheeky sort of fondness and Jonathan raised the bird out of his blanket-cloak when the bearded man blew several over-dramatic kisses in his direction.

“Maybe tomorrow, love. Lemme finish up cooking and we can go watch Game of Thrones until it’s ready to eat, okay? Then we can watch any movies of your choice. Sound good?” he untangled himself from the brunette, tapping his cheeks lightly to make sure he’d been listening. At Jon’s stubborn nod, he slipped out of his grip and returned to the stove.

The sick man eyed his boyfriend from across the kitchen. The suspicious glare probably wasn’t as subtle as Jonathan would have liked but it was clear he didn’t care much as Luke shot him a teasing wink. When blue eyes were cast to the ceiling, an uncaring look on his face, Luke took a few steps towards him. Those blue eyes snapped to his smirk and he stumbled back over his blanket.

“Stay back,” he said, sniffing. His ferocious glare did nothing to scare the older man away and he sent a helpless look to Ryan who just watched with a twinkle in his eye.

“If you kiss him, I’m not kissing you,” Ryan reminded Luke, and Jon’s look of desperation turned to harsh insult.

“Excuse me!?” he gasped.

Ryan shrugged. “You’re sick and we’re sharing enough germs as it is.” He put the wide dish into the oven. “I don’t want to play pass the parcel with your disease.”

“What, so you two can kiss each other but not me!?” Even though it made complete sense to him that he shouldn’t kiss either of them, he still sniffled and whinged like a child. His illness made him feel tired and a tired Delirious loved affection. What was the point if he couldn’t get even that?

Luke still grinned, hands in his pockets as he sauntered towards his youngest boyfriend. Jon shuffled back. “No, go away,” he swatted at the man with his hands, catching the DIY coat before it fell off him and pulling it tight.

For each step Luke took forwards, he took one back, yet his foolproof plan was foiled as he hit a wall. Luke closed in on him, curling his arms around his shorter boyfriend and ducking down to lift him up.

“Luke!” he shrieked, voice breaking as he was thrown up over the man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Put me down, you bitch! Fuck you!”

Ryan shook his head as the man was carried out of the room, squealing and kicking as Luke jostled him around, hand conveniently holding his ass. He set the timer on the oven, putting dishes in the sink and getting out a pack of Maltesers. Placing the three cups of tea on a plastic tray, he carefully carried it into the next room.  

The living room had no lights on but the TV, the couch holding Luke who had a grumpy Jonathan sitting between his legs, his strong arms curled around the sick man’s waist and his head rested on his shoulder. Jon was obviously trying to stay stubborn and stoic as Luke laid affectionate kisses along his shoulder and the side of his neck. It was clear to Ryan that his blue eyes were melting and that he was anything but unhappy with the situation. Luke knew it too.

“Game of Thrones?” Luke suggested, reaching for the remote at Jon’s nod. Ryan placed a few pillows at Jon’s feet, taking a seat on the floor between his legs instead and wrapping his own blanket around himself. They all fell silent as Luke navigated through the TV and Jon buried his fingertips in Ryan’s hair. Green eyes fell shut and the three of them listened to the rain outside. It had carried through the entire day with light showers, but as the night settled it grew heavy, thundering down around and above them.

Jon melted against Luke’s chest, his fingers rubbing slow circles in Ryan’s scalp. Their silliness and teasing faded away to a comfortable silence of content and for the first time in a while all three were together for the night, peaceful, happy and in love. The TV show started up on the episode following the last one they’d all watched together and Luke couldn’t stop the fond smile on his face as Jon and Ryan devoted their entire attention to the screen. The two of them followed the action closely, jumping at certain parts and leaning forward in anticipation in others. He kept his laughter silent and tapped Ryan’s shoulder gently until the other knowingly raised a hand and allowed their fingers to link loosely against the edge of the couch cushion.

When the timer of the oven rang, they paused the episode and Luke had to physically drag Jon from the couch to the dining table. They all sat and ate, telling each other what they’d been doing, what they’d missed out on. The occasional joke or prod of teasing was passed across the table with the water jug and the plate of garlic bread, and Jon thanked his sickness silently for pulling both his boyfriends to his home instead of the restaurant.

As nice as the place was, their experiences going out in public together weren’t always the best. As much as Luke assured him that there wouldn’t be a problem and as much as he knew the likeliness of there being an issue was small, he didn’t like to risk it.

Out in public it was hard to be affectionate and it was obvious all three spent more time on edge than they did laughing. People often glared in their direction or even shouted their disgust at them. It was weird enough to be publicly queer, but to be romantic with two other men? It was just not right to most people.

But here in his home with blankets and homemade food, they could be happy and comfortable. He smiled into his plate as the two men across and beside him burst out into laughter at the recounted story he told of running into the old lady downstairs in just his briefs. Their faces were glowing with happiness and he knew there was no one else he’d rather be with, no matter what other assholes thought of them.

After dinner Ryan fetched some medication for the brunette who (obviously) claimed he didn’t need anything and that his body was an impenetrable tank of power and fury that could pummel any puny disease that tried to infiltrate it. Of course, this claim went down the drain as he sneezed violently three times in a row through the word ‘fury’, and when he tried to continue the sentence, his throat closed up and forced him into a coughing fit when he tried to gasp in air.

Ryan pushed the tablets against his pursed lips. “Stop being a baby,” he scolded, poking him in the chest and stomach in weak attempts to make him open his mouth.

The man grunted, trying to speak without parting his lips. His humming sounded something like either, “You can’t make me!” or “I’m not a baby!”, Ryan couldn’t tell. He just gave Luke a look until the bearded man pulled his stubborn lover back against him. He buried his face in the crook of his neck and placed kisses along the bones of his shoulder and collar, knowing full well that it was the quickest way to get him weak in the knees. Jon grunted again, attempting to shove him away, and pressed his lips together tighter in defiance.

Luke grinned, holding him still and sliding his tongue along the pale skin, rising goosebumps in its trail. Jon quivered and melted against him. He hummed, unable to verbally tell his partner to fuck off like he’d wanted to. His body betrayed him as he stretched his neck up to allow his lover more access to the milky skin.

Ryan just rolled his eyes, his show-off of a boyfriend taking his damn time.

Luke grinned against the side of his throat and bit down gently on the sensitive skin. Jon gasped, a broken whimper dropping from his tongue. The moment his lips parted, Ryan pushed his thumb and index finger into the hollows of his cheeks, forcing his mouth open and pushing the tablets past his teeth. Jon made a sound of alarm from the back of his throat, but Luke clamped a hand over his mouth before he could spit the medicine back out.

“Swallow it.” As an afterthought, he smirked and added: “You’re good at that.” The comment earned an elbow to his ribs. Jonathan swallowed the pills and shoved his boyfriends away grumpily.

He turned to Luke and slapped a hand against his chest. “Traitor bitch,” he snapped, and Luke laughed.

“I’m not a traitor: I was never on your side,” he corrected and earned another harder slap to the chest. He grinned, unbothered completely and enveloped Ryan in a tight hug. Just to tease their ill lover, he tilted Ryan’s head up and pressed their lips together. Ryan rolled his eyes, letting them close for a second as Luke nipped at his bottom lip. When he pulled back, Jonathan was shuffling out of the room with his blanket over his head.

“I’m leaving this relationship,” he announced dramatically and they followed him with grins on their faces. “I want new boyfriends! Boyfriends who don’t tease me and don’t fuck wit’ me.” His nasally voice made his already silly words even more ridiculous and he grumbled as the two men sat either side of him. Despite his glare, he shifted so two sets of arms could curl around him and he didn’t complain as they squished him between them. “Fuck you guys,” he forced out.

Ryan kissed his cheek lovingly. “You don’t want new boyfriends,” he cooed, resting his fingers at the nape of his neck. They slowly rubbed circles into the muscles either side of his spine and he swallowed the urge to hum with pleasure. He was grumpy.

“You know we love you,” Luke added, one hand resting on the man’s thigh as he murmured his words against Jon’s pierced ear.

He struggled to shake off his anticipation and shouldered both men away from him. He tugged the blanket around him tighter and reached for the remote. “Y’all are fuckin’ with me and I know it. I ain’t stupid, you dicks.” He hid half his face in his knees and the layers of blanket, peering out at the TV and trying to ignore the chuckling either side of him.

“You love us,” Ryan assured him, resting his head on the blanket-covered shoulder. Luke huffed a laugh and pulled Jon against his side, an arm secure around his waist.

The younger man ‘hmph’ed but stayed silent. He didn’t deny the claim and he didn’t need to agree with it either. Instead, he started Pocahontas and leant back into the couch and the hold of one boyfriend, the other playing with the rings on his fingers with a head on his shoulder.

His pout melted to a soft smile in seconds and the warmth that spread to his fingertips and toes was just a reminder of the love both men possessed for him and the love he returned with no hesitation in the slightest.

-

mel’s ask

note: so much cuteness and fluffiness, i loved writing this one- thank you so much for the request melly, i really hope you like it! time between getting requests done will probably vary heaps, and i’m probs gonna take a few months to do them all, honestly.

thank you guys for your patience!

Craig snickered across the bench, tying his laces but somehow getting confused on the loops and twists of the holes, “Wait, do you tie these like sneakers or like boots??”

Evan face-palmed and Smitty jumped to the stand, “You tie it like this, then loop it around, twist it through like that, and pull both sides. Then you twist it and repeat.”

Craig watched him and tried copying him with his other skate, however, it didn’t work out so well.

Smitty sighed and tried it for him, making sure he was watching. “Anyone else?” Evan asked, glancing around.

Tyler, John, Brian, and Brock were busy tying their skates flawlessly. However, David and Lui were having difficulties.

Smitty smiled softly and giggled, heading towards them and kneeling down, “You guys are hopeless.”

Evan finished tying his own laces and stood up carefully, “Alright, everyone who has their laces tied properly, come with me. I’m pretty sure you can all skate.”

Jonathan nodded and stepped forward, casually walking out onto the arena of ice. However, as he planted a foot on the ice, he drifted into a lazy split. (He flexible because of obvious reasons, though.)

Evan carefully skated in front of him, slowly, and held out his arms as he steered to a full stop. “Here, come on.”

Jonathan grabbed his hands and pulled himself up into Evan’s grasp, “My bad...”

Even chuckled and nodded, “It’s fine. Here, I’ll help you skate.”

“I got this, I got this.” Jonathan budged, pushing from Evan’s grasp, “It's like walking, right?”

He took another step and lazily drifted into another split. He frowned and furrowed his brow in thought, “It’s cold...”

Smitty chuckled as he led Craig onto the ice. Tyler skated past them and immediately fell on his face. Craig feared he would do the same and clung to Smitty like crazy, “D-Don’t let go, fuck!”

Marcel passed them and stretched his arms up above his head. He went straight, slowly, and neared the wall. As soon as he placed his hands against the wall, they never left that wall again.

Scotty followed in after Marcel and speedily swerved right, grinning as he felt the ice beneath his feet. “It’s like I’m floating!” He giggled.

“Scotty, watch out!” Smitty shouted, chuckling as said male ran into the bar connected to the wall, “Dumb ass!!”

Evan facepalmed as Jonathan took a step forward and slowly drifted his legs apart into another lazy split.

Tyler, face on the ice still, placed both hands on the ice and grunted as he tried getting up. “Evan, his tongue’s stuck on the ice...”

Evan knelt down and held in his laughter as the other male tried cursing him out. “Spit on the ice, Ty.”

Within seconds, the male sat cross-legged on the ice, rubbing at his sore tongue. Evan knelt next to him and gently kissed him, holding his chin in place as he warmed his tongue up with his own.

Tyler smiled as the other pulled away and stood up.

“We’re lucky we booked it for a party today... VIP nonetheless.” Smitty giggled, hooking an arm around Craig’s waist and pulling him into a straighter line than his swerved loops.

Craig clutched onto Smitty for dear life, John on his other side as he tried helping out.

But John didn’t last long and fell, his hands grasping Craig’s right arm and pulling him down on top of him.

Smitty came tumbling down as well, landing on top of Craig who landed on John. He groaned and sat up on his butt, “Guys, for fuck’s sakes. John!”

John grinned and sat up “My bad.”

"Damb right! I had that, John!”

John helped up Craig and nodded to Smitty, “Okay, when you’re done, come join me. I wanna try some figure skating.”

“Fine, but we gotta play some Hockey after, dude.”

“Fuck yeah!” John grinned, skating off towards Marcel.

Scotty had found himself clinging to Marcel’s free arm, leaning against the darker male with such dependence that Marcel almost couldn’t move. “Scott! Scotty, come on, man! It’s like walking, dude.”

Scotty shook his head, “It’s like flying without your feet!”

Smitty glanced over at Evan and furrowed his brow. Evan glanced back and sighed, rubbing at his face. The two turned and walked off the ice and into the locker room.

"Wait!”

“Evan!!! Come back here!”

“Help me, babe!!”

“Evan, help us!!”

“EVAN!!!”

“Smitty!!!”

“Come back, Don’t leave me!!”

“Smitters! “

“AHHH!!”

“Yeah, okay. What the hell did you do, Smitty?!” Marcel giggled some more and tugged at the top of the collar, Lucas letting out little protesting sounds.

“I can’t do anything about it, Lucas, sorry.” He chuckled.

Lucas grunted in annoyance and trudged past the giggling lover, running into a wall nearby before turning a direction and stumbling to the next wall.

However, that wall was the back of Luke who was discussing food with Evan. “Luke! What the fuck?!”

“Evan, it’s just Smitty. I think he got his shirt stuck on his glasses again.”

Evan burst out laughing, “Again?! Yyou mean this has happened before?!”

Luke grunted as he tried pulling the stretchy hoodie off the other Canadian, “Usually I can pull it right off! It’s not working this time.”

“What do you mean, it’s not working?!” Smitty’s muffled protest barely registered in Luke’s mind.

uke huffed and let go, the force lightly pushing Smitty back a few steps. Smitty groaned and rubbed at the collar.

“I can’t pull it off, sorry. Maybe ask Moo, he can try and cut through it.”

Smitty shook his head, “John bought me this, it’s a meme hoodie.”

Luke and Evan both shrugged and went back to their conversation. Smitty grunted and turned away from them, turning down the hallway to find a new helper.

He stumbled into the kitchen and into Craig, who seemed shocked to see Smitty stuck in a hoodie.

“Smitty, what in the world?!”

Jonathan stood behind  Craig, investigating the hoodie closely, “How the fuck did you get stuck?”

Lucas muffled a reply tha neither could hear. They shrugged and took hold of the hood that was loopily drooping behind  Lucas’ head. They pulled it up and towards them, Lucas bent forward to help and pulled back.

However, to no avail, it stayed in place and did not budge.

“Who the hell bought you this onstrosity?!”

Lucas snarled, “It’s a meme hoodie, Craig! John bought it for me.”

The two could hear the despair in the boy’s voice and sighed, “Alright, well... take a left and walk a little ways. You should reach his room.”

Lucas sighed and waved them off, thanking them quietly in his head as he trudged towards said room.

He slammed into the door and fell on his front, groaning in annoyance once again. John’s laughter could be heard in the corner of the room.

“Hey, Smit, you’ve got something on your head, you know?”

Lucas sat up and frowned, his eyes straining to see through the fabric, “I can’t get this fucking hoodie off, John! Help me!”

John grinned and pulled it back down, he placed a gentle kiss to his cheek and pulled off those glasses. With a sigh, he pulled the neck hole over his lover’s nose and ears, bit by bit.

“There we go! All done.” John grinned.

The two cuddled until the sun began shining through the curtain, listening to each other’s heart beat. Jun was relaxed after a long night of recording and gaming.

“Isn’t it exhausting?”

“Hmm?”

Cyra glanced up at the ceiling window, “You know... dealing with those different feelings.”

Jun nodded, “Yeah, but it’s fine for me.”

“I feel confused.”

“About what, hon?”

Cyra sighed softly, “Well, no one knows but you and well, I kind of feel a little...”

“Underappreciated?” Jun let a soft breath leave her lips.

“A little bit.”

The two coaxed the other up form the bed, one trying to budge up from underneath the other heavy cuddler while the other lazily kissed understanding marks into their neck. “Should we...”

“No”, Cyra mentioned, “They’d never understand us, Jun.”

Jun sighed and sat up, “Yeah, you’re right, I guess.”

The door squeaked open and in stepped one of the youngest, Lucas. “Hey...”

Jun stared alarmingly at Lucas and felt her knees go weak, “D-did you...?”

Cyra felt her eyes tear up an she nervously rubbed at her arm. “Can you guys keep a secret...?” Lucas muttered under his breath.

Jun and Cyra glanced at him questioningly, “Um, if you can keep ours?”

Lucas nodded, “Of course.” then paused for a second to breathe in deeply, “Well, I’m... I go by... um...”

“Are you.... femme?”

Lucas briefly nodded, “Yeah. I didn’t know you guys felt similar. You’re probably more of Gender Fluid than Transgender.”

“Gender fluid? Transgender?” Jun questioned, Cyra taking out her phone immediately.

“So what is your preferred name, Lucas?”

“Luce...”

Cyra squealed, “That’s such a cute name, babe!”

Luce giggled and smiled brightly as Cyra launched her into a huge hug. Jun joined soon after, “Now there’s three of us.”

The door, once again, sneaked open and in stepped the tallest of their group, “Guys? Whatcha talking about in here?”

“Tyler...!” Cyra gasped, breaking from the hug to stare in pure shock and shame at him.

“I, um, I heard.”

“Tyler, please, for the love of fucking Christ, do not tell the others.” Luce pleaded, clasping her hands together at her chest as she glared at him.

Tyler shot his hands up above his head for surrender, “I won’t, I won’t. But, it might be a good idea, just so we call you by your names on the right days. Ya  know, it’d be bad if we were to just, stomp on your feelings like that.”

Cyra stared in pure shock at Tyler, “You mean...”

Tyler smiled softly, “Geez, you’re so sensitive about everything.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Cyra, “Stop worrying about what we’re going to think, it only matters what you think.”

Cyra felt her eyes tear up even more and clasped her hands around his middle, nuzzling her face in his neck. He smiled and sighed softly, opening an arm to the other two girls, “Come on, you two.”

“A hug from an accepting lover! Yes!”

“Why wouldn’t we accept you guys if we’re part of the gay in lgbt?”

Marcel suddenly was grinning in the hallway like an idiot, Scott beside him with Evan to their left.

Luke was peering in from the right and John found a seat at the dining room table behind the group in the hallway.

Lui and David sat next to him over there.

“You guys...” Luce glanced over at his lovers with a small small.

Marcel grinned again and stepped closer just as all three began running at him. He prepped himself for a huge impact and felt all three slammed into him, arms wrapping around him into a huge hug.

The other guys chuckled behind him as he collapsed to the ground. “Thanks, girls, Jesus Christ.”

Cyra chuckled and sat up, “Sorry Marcel.”