#rating:e

it starts with loud chuuya. chuuya on his first glass is always extra loud. talking about anything, really. hobbies, stuff in his work, gossip from within the port mafia, ranting about ex-colleagues—his mouth runs a mile a minute as he drinks. which you don’t really mind—it’s endearing—but a lot of times it’s just much easier to usher him quickly into his second drink.

that leads him straight to quiet chuuya. chuuya who is deeply contemplative and has a lot of angst inside of him begging to come out. while he still has the ability to talk as he did prior, he’s now much quieter, and only drops heavy one-liners every time he does speak. it’s a good barometer to see how he’s been feeling the past week, except every line is at least twice as miserable as it really is in real life. quiet chuuya sits in a corner nursing his glass of wine until it’s empty and he’s near in tears.

which leads to the third-glass horny chuuya.

really, like something snaps. he goes from tense and silent to one that’s crossing the room with heavy footsteps headed straight to your warm embrace.

third-glass horny chuuya gives very, very eager consent. nosing at your neck, murmuring your name and little whines of “please, please, i need you right now” as his hands are going down your body. give him a push and he’ll back off—no problem, not hard at all—but if you continue to let him, the more enthusiastic he gets.

until he’s so desperate for you no more words come out, just grunts and pants and grinding.

he’s already midway through his third-glass tonight and you know if you wait any longer he won’t even be able to get hard at all, so you decide to give him what he wants.

chuuya makes slacks look extra beautiful, especially on his lithe frame, but by god does it look painful when tented with a dick as massive as his. you pop the button free and pull the zipper and shimmy it down his shaking hips.

you can’t help the laugh that comes out of you. “chuuya, you have to calm down a bit.”

which you’re sure he doesn’t understand in words but he does in spirit, because he whines a complaint, a sound that goes straight to both his dick and your core.

you take him into your mouth, a practiced gesture of tongue and hidden-away teeth. a groan that’s filled with relief exits his mouth, and you grin as your tongue goes further down his length. he sighs, a heavenly sound.

chuuya loves oral. giving, receiving. he can spend hours with you between his legs or him between your legs and he wouldn’t mind one bit. something about the adoration, the worship in the act gets him off so hard that you know it won’t take him more than two minutes right now to blow his load all over you.

but you don’t rush it, don’t push on forward because you want to enjoy this as much as he’s enjoying it. take the base of his dick in your hands and gently pump it as you soothe the head over with your tongue like a salty lollipop. the shivers of his hips are sensations that go straight down to your now-wobbling legs.

his hands suddenly fly to your hair, and so you decide to finish him off. all the way in your throat, so nothing goes to waste. his murmurs and moans finally escalate into a choppy, garbled version of your name, so sweet in its surrender, and the pain in your jaw dissipates as you hear him release one final sigh before his hips fall to the bed with a creak.

you look up at him, grinning, delighted in your handiwork and are about to tease him for round two when—

instead, you see chuuya snoring happily away against his pillow, mouth slightly open, drool falling out.

the anger and sexual frustration that broils in your gut at the sight disappears at his pleased, relaxed expression, such a contrast to the displeasure in his face earlier that night.

well, i guess that was worth it.

you wash yourself up quickly before coming back to bed with him, tucking you both under the blanket. you kiss his cheek, then pinch his nose, grinning as you lay down next to him.

He doesn’t look disappointed, not even upset, (in fact, in a way that you can’t quite yet understand, he looks rather relieved, pleased, like a weight lifted off of him) but you can’t stop the cold sensation of fear crawling up your veins, everywhere that Theo had just earlier set aflame.

You want to pull him back into your arms, but you don’t feel like you have the right to.

So you curl back onto yourself on the bed, knees pressed up your chest, pulling the crumpled blanket to cover yourself. The bed dips where Theo takes a seat at the edge of it. The sounds of the springs and the door closing behind Vincent feels too loud. 

You get a fleeting thought of just wanting to go to sleep.

“Schatje, ” Vincent says, his voice soft, like the room's little world was made of glass and eggshells, like he’s tiptoeing… “Are you sure about this?”

And if you were really to answer that you would say yes, of course you’re sure, there are so few things you’ve ever been sure of like this, like wanting to be held by two of the softest hearts you ever known, the gentlest loves—but there’s so much going on you don’t really know where to begin.

Until Theo holds your hands in his and then you’re sure, you’re sure it’s okay to give in.

He feels too far away with only your intertwined hands carrying his warmth to you but his eyes have always done more of the talking for him, and right now he’s saying: I love you, no matter what you do. He gestures his head at Vincent like his brother is his gift to you.

“Vincent, Theo, I—”

“Shh, hondje, ” Theo says, squeezing your hand in a way that means he won’t let go.

Vincent holds your chin in between his fingers, tilts your face to his until all you see is his sky-blue eyes. And when he presses his lips to yours, you feel your heart tremor at the freedom of being allowed to openly want what you’ve long desired.

It doesn’t take him long to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding in the gap between your lips when you sigh the moment Theo wraps his arms around your waist. Your hand, now freed, makes its way to the golden fluff of Vincent’s hair, squeezing when his hand rests on your bare thigh, squeezing the flesh.

His touch is electric. You sigh when you part, nearly collapsing backward to Theo. Vincent’s hair is a mess where you’ve pulled at it, but he doesn’t look like he minds at all. His lips are glossy and pink from the kiss, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark.

You’re about to say something when Theo presses a kiss along your jaw, distracting you. He lifts you easily up in his arms, and you relax against him like a doll. The intention to do this (“whatever this is,” you say to yourself) now confirmed, he shifts your positions. Theo has this all planned, after all. He expects to give you nothing but the best. You're willing to surrender to whatever he has in mind.

He sits you closer to the headboard than the edge, surrounding you with pillows for comfort, before sitting behind you. He places a kiss on your shoulder, letting his hand caress your shoulder blades, like saying, don’t be afraid, I have you, I’ll protect you. You shiver at his light touch. His warmth all-enveloping, a comforting presence against your back, his hands go down your sides, your thighs, your raised knees.

He spreads your legs apart.

Your head snaps back so quickly to face him, and he has a loving look on his eye that’s stained with playfulness.

“Vincent’s never been with you,” Theo explains, and the weight of each syllable sinks down your belly. “He won’t know what feels good unless you tell him.”

The sound of a thump on the other side of the bed forces you to turn to Vincent, who is sitting across from you a few feet away, his shirt now off, his pants unbuttoned, his hand palming himself through the fabric. You bite your lip at the sight.

Theo presses a kiss along the back of your ear, his hot breath making you ticklish.

“Show him, hondje, ” Theo repeats. “I’ll reward you if you do. Show him what my baby can do.”

Well. You weren’t going to say no to that. You take a deep breath to steel yourself, and Theo pulls up your hands to press a kiss on both before you begin.

You think you can play it cool until you meet Vincent’s eyes.

So you focus on the tent in his pants instead. It’s too early to break— you have a long night ahead.

Wrangling for your voice, you brush your hair behind you and lift your hands, your heart jumping to your throat. 

“My neck is really—really sensitive,” you begin to say, fingers brushing along your jugular. You don't mean it, but the light touch makes you shiver. “My shoulders if you… get the touch right,” you continue, going downward. 

You can feel Vincent’s eyes on you like molten lava, tracing the bruises and marks your own lovemaking with Theo has left on you. Feel him crave to leave some on you as well.

You cup your breasts gently, sighing at the touch—losing your words for how to explain it, do you have to say it, can’t you just show him? —before moving your hand down your stomach.

Vincent groans as your hands skate down your body to where he wants to touch you the most. Want to please you to heaven and back. Your eyes focus on how hard he already is. You swallow the lump of excitement growing in your throat.

“Hondje,” Theo whispers against the nape of your neck, “you’re not yet done.”

Your voice is thin with breathlessness when you reply. “Right.” 

You move your hands up your thighs, opening them, giving Vincent permission to look. You try to act nonchalant, run your hands down your knees to your calves instead, but the heat building in your belly is already making you dizzy. Theo presses his hands on your hips firmly like a warning.

Surrendering, your hands make it to your cunt. 

This isn’t new to you. You’ve done this with Theo before—long, long, long before. Plays on exhibitionism and voyeurism under the guise of getting to know each other better isn’t past either of you. But with a third person in the mix—a very important person to the both of you—it’s much more nerve wracking, leaves you feeling much more… feral, raw. And you haven’t even started. Your fingers slide down your folds and you feel your slick from much earlier.

What should have left you embarrassed in any other circumstance only makes you hungrier. You want him inside of you now .

Vincent’s biting his lip so hard it’ll probably bruise, or even bleed. Theo presses another feather-touch kiss to your shoulder, supporting you. This is all new, to all of you, and you’re thankful to be able to take your time. Not that your impatience won’t soon get ahead of you.

You spread yourself open with one hand, hearing Vincent’s breath hitch in his throat when you do. With your other hand, you begin to trace delicious little circles on your clit, just the way you like it. It makes you let out a shuddering moan.

“Instruct him,” Theo whispers. You don’t have the strength to refuse.

“Slowly,” you say, your voice drawn from a deep well of lust, your hand still moving, “so lightly I can barely feel it. Over, and over, until— aah,” you lean back against Theo once more, and he holds you steady. “Until that, ” you elaborate with a chuckle. “Just, like this, until—it’ll— ah! ” Your hips jolt up instinctively at the rising pleasure. You’re not going to last long, not when Theo’s had you burning up from much earlier. Your other hand lets go; you begin to tease your opening, finger entering slowly and curling, searching. You’re still trying to talk, still trying to follow instructions, trying to make sense, but all that comes out of your mouth are the sighs and whines of someone chasing for release.

Your two hardworking hands find a pace that sends you reeling, making you gasp, “Theo!”

He brings his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as your breath gets heavier. Your eyes have long sealed shut, your senses focused on the feeling that’s beginning to spread all over. The knowledge that you're being watched makes it twice as powerful. You don’t see it, but Theo looks up for just a moment, finds the hunger in his eyes mirrored in his brother’s, and he grins.

“Good girl,” Theo whispers, pressing kisses up your shoulder, to your neck, and you cry out because everything feels too much. “Good girls get rewards.”

Then his fangs are under your skin.

You swear every time he bites you like that your mind breaks at the exact moment your skin does, your awareness and entire body suddenly dunked in a scalding-hot ocean of pleasure that leaves you crying out. This is the second time he’s bitten you tonight and it feels twice as potent as earlier. Your hands fly to your sides, pressing deep wrinkles into the bedsheets as Theo sucks greedily out of your wound, your orgasm causing you to shudder against his tight hold. It feels like forever, white-hot pulsing inside your veins.

You’ve only barely caught your breath when Theo pulls away from your neck, pressing a kiss against the wound. When you look up, the first thing you see is Vincent’s shocked, flushed, aroused face.

And his rock-hard cock.

There’s a palpable silence in the room, thick. The only thing you can hear is your stuttering heartbeat, Theo’s heavy breaths.  

Then, “Can I?” Vincent asks, meekly, like he hadn’t been invited, like all that wasn’t a show for him in the first place, and Theo presses one more kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“All yours,” Theo tells Vincent, before whispering against your ear: “Work hard, schatje. ”

As Theo’s grip on you loosens, you take a moment to relish in the newfound freedom by stretching your muscles a little, fully aware that Vincent’s stare is glued onto the bare expanse of your skin. You reach our arms forward, then stretch them up the sky, not stopping the noise that comes out of you. You feel his gaze wander your curves, and you close your eyes to allow him a moment to look.

Then you’ll make sure he’ll do more than just looking.

Theo has a way of pulling the confidence hiding inside of you out into the open air, knowing the exact strings to pull so that it would shine brilliantly at the perfect moment. Showing Vincent to yourself like that and allowing him to watch you with that look in his eyes has erased all thoughts of embarrassment and shyness in your mind. Now all that was in you was hunger, the kind that filled all the bits of you, lit all your senses and kept you keen on the next meal to swallow.

And you know a feast when you see one.

Your knees and arms nearly give way when you begin to crawl towards Vincent on the other end of the bed, but the excitement building under your skin is nothing to the pain. Besides, you know you’re going to get much more sore later, if Theo’s plans are to be followed. Not that you know Theo’s plans–you just know the man well enough.

Ever so timid Vincent, but with the eagerness hidden in the way he holds his fists to steady him. His cheeks are a deep red when you get to him, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Yours would probably mirror his too if it were any other time than this–all that hidden longing for someone you thought you would never be allowed to love, lest you be called greedy, or deceitful… and now you finally get to claim it. You sit up to meet his level and cup his cheek in your hands.

It’s okay, you say through the gentle touch–lost in that limbo between just-friends and lovers, the two of you have mastered the art of communicating longing through fleeting touches. Not out of the radar of Theo’s watching eyes, but at least inconspicuous enough to get away from the nosiness of everyone else in the mansion.

You’ll find the words later. He will, too. For now you finally have each other, and that is all you could have ever asked for.

The two of you don’t deny the pull of the desire to kiss, and the moment your lips touch it feels electric. You sit on your calves as you tangle your hands into Vincent’s hair, pulling him closer. The pain makes him gasp; you let yourself in  his open mouth.

The kiss feels like it lasts forever, your head beginning to swim. You hadn’t expected Vincent to be this good a kisser–well, not that you’ll ever admit to how many times you’ve dreamt of putting your mouth on his. You kiss him again just to tug his lower lip in between your teeth–he sighs without defiance but his hands begin to travel up your thighs, settling on your waist where he holds you firmly in place.

Warmth begins to pool in your belly.

You hear the thump of the headboard as Theo leans back against it, perhaps to watch the show.

You pull back from Vincent and a string of saliva connects you both. His eyes are hazy with heat.

You tap his hip with one hand, saying “off.” He gets up just enough for you to pull off his pants and underwear in one motion, chucking it away. (Theo kicks the clothes off the bed for you.) Your enthusiasm nearly knocks the wind right out of Vincent, but before he can muster the courage to say anything, your hands are already warm around his cock.

“Shit,” Vincent curses. He never does. The realization of the sheer amount of power you have right now nearly makes you tremble. 

Theo chuckles.

You get down in position, eyes never leaving Vincent, hand not stopping. When he turns away, you snicker, your eyes falling onto the job at hand instead. He has such a pretty cock too, just like the rest of him, a good size and with a curve you know will feel delicious inside you. You press a wet kiss onto the head of it and hear him groan.

“Tell me what feels good, Vincent,” you say, dropping down to lick a stripe from the base of his cock up to the top, the tip of your tongue leaving a wet line of spit. “Tell me what feels good and I’ll help you.”

You look up to him, working him up with your hand, your wrist turning to give an extra motion. Vincent doesn’t answer, his pupils blown wide, hands curled into fists next to him, crumpling the sheets. The only response you get is steady, heavy breathing.

Vincent’s wound so tight, hot desire to see him unraveling flashes inside of you.

You pout, but it’s one of mischief. “I guess I’ll have to learn it myself.”

In a practiced motion, you open your mouth and take him the hilt in one go. He hisses your name under your breath as his tip touches the warm flesh of your throat–which still hurts, from all the shouting and Theo’s prior roughhousing, but it’s nothing to the utter lightness you feel finally being able to get to have a taste of this. You bob your head up and down a few times before coming off of him with a pop.

Knowing you have all the time in the world, you don’t rush, trying out this and that to figure out which will push Vincent’s buttons the most. In a few minutes–you’re a quick learner, and it’s all thanks to his younger brother–you’ve gotten his weak points in a checklist.

Slowly, you feel him letting go. His thighs, which were tense at the start from trying not to just buck up into your warm mouth, now only strain sensitively under your one wandering thigh. His labored breathing relaxes into little sighs. As you continue to pump his length and suckle on his head that’s tucked inside your mouth, you hear him releasing the bedsheets from his fisted hands. Humming in delight, you take him deep into your throat, let him feel the vibrations of your sigh as you nuzzle your nose into him, blond curls of hair tickling your face–and then you pop off.

You look up to see how he’s doing, and the sight makes you gasp. He has one hand partly covering his mouth, rivulets of blood flowing down the back of it from where he’s dug his fangs into the flesh of his finger to stop himself from crying out.

You take his hand in yours gently, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. You press a kiss to the wound, not minding the coppery tang of blood.

You put on your most dangerous pleading eyes and ask, “Let me hear you instead?”

He relents. It’s a gift to learn that Vincent near-sings when he’s lost in the throes of pleasure, each keening “ aahhh” adding sinking hotly into your flesh. Eventually his hand finally makes it to the back of your head, cupping it gently to guide you as you bob your head back and forth in an effort to get him to cum.

Until Theo’s low voice interrupts you.

“How is she, broer ?”

His tone immediately sends you to a high alert, your nerves on fire. But you don’t stop your movements, knowing fully well your lover is watching you intently.

Vincent begins to say something but it’s lost when he laughs it off. “I don’t know, she’s”–he sucks in a deep breath as you pull him into your mouth–“I didn’t think–”

“So good, isn’t she? Well-trained.”

Shit, fuck. Theo knows what he’s doing to you and you don’t know what he’s trying to get Vincent to do but you don’t think your heart is ready for anything more.

Vincent huffs. “Yes, she’s so–beautiful,” he manages to say. You lighten your grip to let him talk a little bit more. Vincent’s hand makes its way to your hair and you fully expect him to pull at it but he doesn’t, just tucks a lock behind your ear and cups your cheek where the head of his cock bulges up against it.

“I–I want to stay with her like this forever.”

You moan at his admission, unable to restrain the sound as you take him to the hilt. Vincent sighs in response, his breath hilting as you switch to work twice harder than earlier. You rub your thighs against each other for friction as you continue on with a much more brutal pace, fully aiming to get him off now, if thanks for his honesty, for his compliment, before you ask for your own turn, if you’ll be allowed.

Except Vincent has other ideas.

You feel his desperation in the way his hand pushes you backward by the shoulder. You know he’s only seconds from cumming when he stops you, so the movement takes you by surprise. Your eyes are wide open, asking him, what do you want, Vincent? Let me do it for you, and he makes it known by manhandling you into his preferred position with his vampiric strength.

To a 69.

“Let me love you too,” he finally says to you, his voice soft, as he pulls you downwards by the ass to finally graze his tongue against your wet heat. You buck into his mouth and allow a sigh before returning the favor, your mouth now more insistent, more strategic around his length. Your hands don’t let up with pumping his shaft, and he squeezes his clit in between two fingers. You sob as you fall, cheek-first, onto his thigh.

“Vincent!”

Yes, he says, but you don’t really hear it because your heart is thrumming so loud in your ears. You take a deep breath and rearrange yourself, return to slotting him back into your mouth. You get as far as just the head without losing control, cautious and unsteady because the beautiful flashes of pleasure as Vincent spreads your open to run his tongue over your slit.

Everything is hot and burning and something in you is clamoring to burst into hot flames of longing. It doesn’t help that you feel Theo’s stare digging into your skin. You don’t have the courage to look up to him yet, knowing full well that something in you will shatter into a million loved pieces when you do.

Delicate fists pumping up and down Vincent’s shaft and playing with the head with tongue and teeth, you’re nearly distracted when the orgasm hits you. Pop off of Vincent in a sharp, keeling cry, his two fingers warm and gentle inside of you just lightly fluttering at a spot that had never felt that sensitive before. You brace yourself up on your palms with eyes wide open as Vincent pulls you closer toward him, seated fully on his face now; he moans against your soft, sensitive flesh and the vibration sends you reeling.

And because the best things are inevitable, your eyes catch on Theo’s gaze and his eyes are so dark you lose yourself in it for a moment. In a half-thought you wish you can tell him I love you, say I can’t believe you let me do this, scream you’re the best person I can ever ask for, sing you have given me the world and I don’t deserve it, and even without telepathy you know he can tell what you’re thinking because he smirks. He smirks the way that gets you so hot he doesn’t even have to touch you to get you off.

So you crash head-first into the orgasm, shouting a name that’s a mix of Theo’s and Vincent's, hands curling into fists as you roll your head back, unable to fight it. Vincent doesn’t stop with his mouth until he’s drawn your orgasm as long as humanly possible, your thighs clenching and unclenching as you surrender to the waves.

You collapse bonelessly back to earth, the only thing holding you up being Vincent’s arms. He presses a kiss over the shallow bite-mark from earlier in the night, where Theo had bitten you while you were thinking of him. You have a vague feeling he knows; the realization makes you shy in a way that’s rather odd considering what the three of you are doing. You tense up, and you know Vincent notices because he tightens his grip around you, holding you up safely against his chest. For a moment, you relish in the feeling of Vincent’s arms around your waist, like he’s putting you back together.

Until Theo calls your attention back to him, pulling you up by the chin with one hand as he waves something in his hand in the other.

“I got you a collar, hondje .”

You muster a low laugh, reaching out to the cool steel chains of its leash. Exhaustion drips from every muscle, but the adrenaline keeps your blood humming.

“Are you really sure you’re not into animal roleplay, Theo?”

Theo takes your outstretched arm to pull you towards him, grinning. “No. Just making sure I got our little beast in bed tamed.”

If you were to be honest, you hadn’t really imagined what making love with the brothers would be like. Hell, you didn’t even think this was going to happen at all. It didn’t feel right, for the longest time, to want two people at once, like this. It didn’t feel fair for either of them. It seemed so selfish of you.

But you’re the luckiest girl on earth, with Theo by your side. Theo and Vincent are complements of each other in more ways than other people can imagine. Where Theo gives love, Vincent takes. Where Theo carves himself into your heart, Vincent surrounds you and embraces you.

Where Vincent prefers to watch, well.

Theo prefers to direct.

You pop off of Vincent’s weeping cock with a cry when Theo pulls out his fingers from your cunt. He rewards you with a spank, and a sharp tug at the collar around your neck. The chains make a clinking sound when they meet the moment he pulls at the leash.

“You alright there, liefje ?” he teases. 

You whine in response.

Vincent curls a hand on your cheek, half-sitting up to reach you. “Too much?” His voice is soft and gentle and the exact opposite of Theo, and you love it.

“No,” you admit, eyelids fluttering, turning back to Theo to meet his eyes. “Not enough.”

“Greedy, greedy little hondje, ” Theo smirks. He smacks your ass once more, watching the plump flesh bounce, before releasing his hold on the leash. “Back to work.”

So you do: pump the length of Vincent’s member in your hands before putting it back in your mouth, swirling at that bit of flesh right underneath the head that makes him jolt. Feel the vein running underneath it throbbing with every push. You’re sloppy and spit slicks each inch of skin, sticky, hot. 

And just as you manage to get it back all to your throat with a shuddering breath, Theo thrusts inside of you in one full motion.

Your gasp sends a vibration down Vincent’s cock, and he grasps your hair tightly in his hands. You sigh because it’s so rough, so ruthless in comparison to the gentle thrusts Theo is making from behind you. He’s bent down over your back pressing kisses down your spine as he races into your sopping heat.

You pull Vincent out of your mouth just enough to be able to speak and say “Theo, please, a little more?” and he growls in response, the thrusting into you becoming a little more agitated, more demanding, the collar around your neck tightening when he pulls at the leash. It leaves you lightheaded, the world spinning for a millisecond. You push against it anyway, tongue still tracing hungry circles, the taste of Vincent’s precum spreading in your mouth. 

Vincent cups your cheek once again, pulling you off of him, and you can only watch as he sits up, changes position. You nearly fall forward when Theo thrusts a little harder than usual, but his older brother catches you, chuckles a little, but before you can respond he’s hooked a nimble finger under your collar to bring him closer to him.

You have half a thought to swallow whatever’s in your mouth before his tongue slides into your mouth, but it gets lost in the muddled fog of your mind the moment his lips touch yours. You rescind your earlier surprise to grateful appreciation. Vincent is a great kisser. Ridiculously so. Theo is, too, but with Vincent it’s different. You moan when your tongue grazes his canines and you feel the sharpness of his fangs.

God, fuck, do you want to be bitten right now.

What's the science of it? Of the addiction, of the painful withdrawals, of upping the dose to fulfill a relentless dissatisfaction, and unending insatiability—

When he pulls back you’re breathless, face red and yet still unsatisfied. You don’t know if Vincent had the heart to pull you off of him because he noticed you slowly losing control and energy, but you still want more, and that’s not on him. You’re so hungry you’d probably break your body trying to satisfy it. You chew on your lower lip, sore and pink, but have no time to ask for Vincent’s lovely fangs glinting in the moonlight when Theo pulls you towards him with the leash.

“Don’t forget me,” Theo breathes into your shoulder. 

You laugh weakly. “As if I can,” you say. As if I ever will. “C’mon.”

Theo doesn’t need to be told a second time. Finding his pace, finding your favorite spot, he holds you up with an arm underneath your breasts, your neck lolling back to his shoulder; your pants and sighs all straight to his ear. 

Vincent calls out your name, and it takes all your strength but you turn to face him, and when your eyes lock it’s like all your nerves are on fire. Something makes your heart jump three paces when you see him—usually angelic, pure, innocent Vincent—looking at you with heat in his eyes, lower lip under his teeth, hand pumping his length still wet with your saliva. 

You feel what it does to you, and Theo does, too.

“Tight,” Theo says between grit teeth. “Like that, huh? Like being watched?”

You try to shush Theo but he only laughs, responds with sneaking his other hand down between your legs, brushing against your clit in a way that makes you feel electric. You close your eyes for a moment to react to it, but quickly recover, craving Vincent’s intense gaze. Each second you spend staring at it making you crumble.

Theo sighs. “Close,” he groans, fangs teasing the shell of your ear. 

You are too. You don’t know because of who anymore. “Theo… Vincent…” you sigh, your voice weak and shaky—

And then Vincent moans as cum spills out of him, white streaks coating his chest.

That’s what pushes you over. 

You sob near painfully as your muscles pulse around Theo, your hands reaching backward to grasp his hair as you succumb to the white-hot flash of pleasure. Theo follows you only a few seconds later, his thrusts turning erratic just as Vincent crawls the distance between him and steals your lips in an urgent kiss, his fang grazing your lower lip so slightly and yet just enough to cut; the hot rush of pleasure that douses you causes you to shudder in one last burst before all of you come down from your respective highs.

The adrenaline crests and breaks as Theo lets go of you. The three of you collapse on the bed in a tangled mess of limbs, you in the middle. Has your shared bed always been this big—had there always been enough space for one more? You feel the sweat sticking to your skin, the cum dripping down your thighs, your hair in a tangled mess. The aches of bites and bruises begin to set in. 

Your mind is already beginning to turn its gears, racing, what is this, what have you done, what is this supposed to be, what are you going to do now, but you shush it, push it for tomorrow, or the day after, for whenever the curtain of contentment is drawn apart. Right now, only the need for comfort fills you. You can clean up after all these messy parts later.

Instinctively, you turn away from Theo to allow him to spoon you, his warmth enveloping you to quiet lull like the deep ocean of his irises. When you look up, you are met with Vincent's gentle gaze.

“How was it?” he asks, shy, boyish smile, all morning sunshine eyes, like he hadn’t just done with him the absolute filthiest thing you've ever done in your life (so far).

You grin, a crescent moon smile, the lull of sleep so close. You feel Theo press a kiss to the side of your neck, and you turn to look at him, then at Vincent.

Lost in the blue of their eyes, stuck in between sea and sky.