#trio!reader

Luckily for you, the project partner that you had been assigned was the most dedicated of students. For any one idea or piece of research you contributed, Luca contributed two more. The only catch was, his schedule only aligned with yours during evenings and weekends.

That’s why, for the last two weeks straight, your social life had basically been non-existent. You spent all of your free hours hunched over textbooks, creating and scrapping PowerPoint presentations, and trying to understand research articles written by people with decades more experience than you had.

You and Luca were creating something you felt truly proud of, the hours and sacrifices you were making made sense.

Unluckily for Luca, he also had the misfortune of being genuinely funny, annoyingly handsome, and completely oblivious to the fact that the men you usually spent a significant amount of time with were... territorial.

Admittedly, giving enough attention to your two needy men was a challenge you were losing recently. You often went back to your dorm exhausted, having only managed to send a few texts to the group chat before falling into deep sleep.

On the rare occasions they did finally catch you, like today, you were usually about to rush back off to the library.

“Again?” Dean asked, arms crossed as he leant against your dorm room doorframe. “You’re going to spend time with him again?”

Your eyes narrowed at the accusatory tone. You cared for Dean, more than you could admit out loud without having spoken to Beau about it first, but he had no right to be implying whatever it was that he was implying.

“That’s usually how group projects work, Dean.”

Beau scoffed from where he was lounging on your bed and Dean turned to glare at him.

“You think this is funny, Maxwell?” Dean asked, his voice devoid of its usual teasing angle. “Because I’m failing to see the punchline here.”

Beau rolled his eyes, tossing his phone onto the mattress, the relaxed posture he’d had gone. He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“I called you three times last night,” Dean said, turning back to look at you. “Every single time, it went straight to voicemail. Then I get a text at two in the morning telling me how you were still with Luca?”

A sharp spike of annoyance hit your chest, masking the sudden heavy ache of guilt that was rising. “I just want to pass the semester, Dean. We’re only focused on working.”

“Right...” Dean mocked, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. “With a man who happens to be a 6’2 varsity athlete who keeps his desk close enough to touch your shoulder. I know his game. I know the type. I am the type.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” you retorted, your fingers gripping the strap of your backpack. “If you can’t trust me to sit in a brightly lit library with a classmate, then we have much bigger problems.”

“It’s not about trust,” Dean growled. The defensive mask he always wore was slipping, revealing the terrifyingly fragile insecurity beneath it. He hated how much he cared about someone he technically wasn’t in a relationship with. He hated that another man was occupying your mind. “He’s looking at you, he’s making you laugh, and you’re letting him take up every single second of your day while we’re left with whatever scraps you have left.”

The heavy silence that followed Dean’s words was suffocating, ringing in your ears like the aftermath of a physical blow. You felt an uncomfortable and nauseating swirling in your stomach, your heart hammering painfully against your ribs as you stared at the raw hurt on his face.

“Scraps?” You whispered, looking between the two of them, it wasn’t fair that you felt guilty right now. “Is that really what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” Beau’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “Dean’s acting like an asshole, but he isn't entirely wrong. You come back here, you drop your bag, you sleep for eight hours, and then you leave again. We barely see you.”

You looked at Dean, waiting for his face to break out in a smile or a teasing wink that told you he was just messing with you. But it wasn’t there, his face was tense, lips pressed into a thin, straight line.

Even worse, when you looked at Beau, his face mirrored Dean’s.

“I have a deadline,” you said, your voice trembling as you adjusted the heavy strap of your backpack. “A deadline that dictates seventy percent of my grade. If I don't go right now, I'm letting Luca down, and I'm ruining my own semester.” You turned to look directly at Dean, your tone turning sharp. “And honestly, Dean, you don’t get to be jealous. I don’t want to get into this with either of you right now.”

Dean flinched at your words, his jaw tightening so hard it looked painful. A flash of raw, ugly envy crossed his features before he forced his wall back up.

“We’re just... feeling a bit neglected, babe,” Beau said, his tone softening. He looked at your tight grip on the backpack strap and sighed heavy. “Look, I get it. I know it’s seventy percent. I know you’re stressed out of your mind trying to pass this class, and we want you to. We’re proud of how hard you work. It’s just... we miss you. Just go finish it, okay? We’ll be right here when you’re done.”

The sudden reassurance made a tight knot in your chest dissolve, the wave of relief hitting you instantly. You managed a small nod toward him. “I miss you too. I promise, the second it’s submitted, I’m all yours.”

You looked over at Dean, but he still wasn’t making eye contact with you.

You opened your mouth to say something. To defend yourself, or maybe to tell him how much you actually missed him. But you hadn't officially spoken to Beau about what Dean meant to the two of you yet. You were still operating in this grey, unlabelled, territory where Dean joined you on weekends, and the weight of what you wanted to say felt too massive to drop now.

“I’m leaving,” you said, turning on your heel.

Dean let out a bitter laugh, stepping back just enough to clear the doorway. “Right. God forbid you keep Luca waiting.”

You didn’t look back as you pushed past Dean and stepped into the hallway. The walk to the campus library was a blur of angry tears and a suffocating weight in your chest. You spent the next four hours staring at a laptop screen next to Luca, but your mind was back in your dorm.

The next day, you’d finally submitted the final draft of your project. You didn’t go back to your dorm, opting to immediately make your way to the hockey house. You shot a quick text to Beau, asking him to meet you there.

When you pushed open the door to Dean’s bedroom, Beau was already there, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Dean was stretched out on the other side of the bed, his back resting against the headboard with his headphones around his neck, staring blankly at his phone screen.

“It’s done?” Beau looked up at you.

“It’s done,” you breathed, stepping into the room. “We submitted it.”

You waited for Dean to look up, to offer a sarcastic comment or a lazy smirk, but he didn't even move. He kept his eyes pinned to his phone.

“Dean, what’s up? Please look at me.”

Dean slowly lowered his phone, his eyes flicking to yours. “Congrats. I’m happy for you.”

His voice sounded anything but happy.

Your eyes flicked over to Beau’s, you weren’t sure you understood what was happening here, but clearly, he did.

“I think you’re going to need to fill in the blanks for her, Dean,” Beau said.

“You told me I don’t get to be jealous,” Dean whispered. “And you’re right, aren’t you? I don’t. I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You felt the oxygen rush out of your body. “No, Dean, that’s not what I meant. I–.”

“It’s fine,” Dean cut you off. He tossed his phone onto the blankets and stood up from the bed. “People come to me for a good time, not a long time or a serious time. And that’s fine by me.”

It clearly wasn’t fine by him. His jaw was ticking again.

“Dean, I don’t see you like that, we don’t see you like that,” you said, gesturing between you and Beau. “I just meant you didn’t get to be jealous of me and Luca, when I saw you and some puck bunny laughing it up the other day.”

Dean’s head snapped to your direction.  

“You... what?” Dean stammered, his arms slowly uncoiling from his chest.

“I saw you by the athletic centre on Wednesday afternoon,” you confessed, the words spilling out fast. “You were laughing with some blonde and she was practically throwing herself at you. I was stressed out of my mind about this project, completely exhausted, and then I see you doing that. So, when you started interrogating me about Luca, I snapped. I said you didn't get to be jealous because I was hurting.”

From the edge of the mattress, Beau snorted. He rubbed a hand over his face, a look of profound relief softening his features. “Jesus Christ, you two are idiots.”

“I don't even remember her name,” Dean whispered. “We spoke about the game, that’s it. I swear.”

“Okay.” Is all you said.

“Okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Okay.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at your cryptic words.

“I think what she’s trying to say, in a non-emotionally constipated way, is,” Beau said, coming over to wrap an arm around you, “we like you and it’s about time we’re absolutely clear on what we want.”

“Exactly,” you agreed softly, leaning into Beau’s sturdy side.

Dean’s throat bobbed, his shoulders dropping. “What do you want?”

“I want you to be our boyfriend,” you said clearly, making sure every single syllable sank in. “Officially. Publicly. Will you?”

After all, the other guys were supposed to be away.

You skip all the way to the fridge, with a stupid grin on your face, opening it and pulling out the carton of orange juice. Fucking not one, but two, athletic men is really doing wonders for your mood. Now you walk around the house grinning and skipping and shit.

The sudden sound of your name coming from the living room makes you shriek and you spin around to see Garrett and Logan peaking their heads up from behind the sofa, wearing matching massive grins.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you mumble as your cheeks flush. You’re wearing nothing but Dean’s shirt, not even bothering to put on underwear. The sudden draft on your bare legs leaves you feeling overly exposed.

Panicking, you set the carton down and desperately tug the hem of Dean’s shirt lower down your thighs.

“Didn’t expect us in the house that we actually live at?” Logan retorts, his lips still curved in a stupid grin.

Fair point. You don’t have an answer for that.   

Logan’s eyes narrow on you, studying your swollen lips and the love bite on your neck. “So... not that you aren’t welcome here, but what exactly are you doing here at...” he pauses to check his watch, “...seven in the morning, wearing Dean’s shirt?”

“It’s not Dean’s shirt,” you lie. A ridiculous lie considering the name DI LAURENTIS is stretched across your back in bold letters.

You can practically see the gears turning in Logan’s head as the puzzle pieces click together.

“Oh my God,” Logan gasps, his eyes widening. “Are you the source of all that noise last night?”

Your heart stops and your stomach flips. Every single incredibly lewd sound that you had made last night flashed through your mind with incredible clarity. The breathless begging, the unhinged moaning, the way your voice had cracked when they both went down on you.

‘Awesome,’ you think to yourself. ‘They heard everything.’

“I actually... don’t think I know what you’re talking about,” you choke out.

You’re not embarrassed for them to know that you both were with Dean, but you are embarrassed that your unfiltered moans have apparently become public knowledge.

When they both stare at you, you swallow hard. Surely it can’t get worse than this.

“Does... Does Beau know that you’re here?” Garrett asks. He doesn’t sound judgemental, but you can see the awkwardness written all over his face.

So, apparently it can get worse.

They think you’re cheating with on your boyfriend with his best friend. You have this sudden urge to leave the country, change your name, and never look back.

“Um. Yes. He knows,” you blurt out, desperate to clear your name and newfound reputation.  

Their eyes widen even further, Logan’s grin turning into a full-blown smirk. To them, this is the juiciest scandal of the year so far.

Logan turns to slap Garrett’s arm. “Dude, I fucking told you I heard another male voice coming from that room last night.” Spinning back to look at you, his face is completely lit up. “Beau was up there with you guys, wasn’t he?

When you freeze and offer no response, Garrett pipes up again. “Let me go get Tucker, he’s going to love this.”

As Garrett sprints down the hall to get Tucker, you scramble toward the staircase, still holding down the hem of Dean’s shirt.

“Dean! Beau!” You shout up the stairs, your voice cracking slightly. “Get down here right now. Please!”

Beau comes down the stairs first, running a hand down his face. Right behind him is Dean, his hair’s a mess. You wish he could have at least brushed it before he came down; the whole ‘thoroughly fucked bed hair’ isn’t making this any easier.

To top if off, both are dressed in only their boxers.

“What is all the screaming about?” Dean grumbles, his voice thick with sleep. He blinks, finally registering Logan leaning over the back of the couch. “Oh, you’re here!”

“Yeah, we’re back!” Logan cheers, practically vibrating with excitement.

“In fact, Dean,” you say through clenched teeth, “they were back last. night. So, they heard everything.”

Both Dean and Beau process that just as Garrett and Tucker stroll into the room. They take a seat on the couch next to Logan.

“Tucker’s all caught up now,” Garrett announces.

The three of them watch the three of you like a pack of hyenas, waiting to jump you.

“I’m just going to hang out down here if that’s okay with everyone,” you say as you drop to the floor behind the kitchen island, shielding yourself from their grins.

Beau moves to stand beside you, giving you a reassuring pat on the head as you crouch on the floor. Dean looks unbothered as he moves to the kitchen and begins pulling out breakfast ingredients.  

“Okay, I have so many questions,” Garrett begins, looking between Beau and Dean. “Is this like... a regular thing? Are you guys a trio or whatever?”

“Yeahhh, who initiated it?” Logan presses, his eyes sparkling. He turns to Beau. “Is Dean just crashing your relationship or is she dating both of you?”

You pull your knees up to your chest and bury your head there. Dean and Beau fly around the kitchen, still unbothered by the barrage of questions.

“Wait, I have a question,” Tucker calls out. “What happens if you get jealous? If you argue, who sides with who or are you not allowed to take sides?”

Dean turns to the group on the sofa. “You’re all thinking way too much. We all like each other. We all sleep together. It’s not that complicated.”

“I don’t know it seems kind of complicated,” Tucker mumbles under his breath.

“Well, I guess that explains why you’ve stopped hooking up with puck bunnies,” Garrett adds much louder. He looks way too deep in thought for such an unserious environment. “Actually, you’ve not brought a girl back in months. Is that how long this has been going on for?”

Logan snickers next to him. “Why bring another girl when he’s too busy stealing Beau’s?” He quickly holds up his hands when Beau glares at him. “Joke! It’s a joke!”

The trio continue to throw rapid-fire questions at Dean, who easily deflects them. Beau crouches next to you.

“Are you okay? Do you want to stand up now?” He whispers to you.

“I’m good down here, thanks. I think I’m just going to play dead until the room clears.” You genuinely do plan to hide here for as long as it takes. They had heard you begging!

Beau laughs a little. “Would it help if I went and got you some pants?”

You nod your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead before turning to run up the stairs and grab you something to wear.

Dean chuckles from the stove, flipping a rapidly burning pancake. “Look, maybe if you all had more interesting lives, you wouldn’t be so focused on ours.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘our’ life now,” Logan points out instantly. “You have a life together?”

You groan loudly, burying your face deeper into your knees.

Dean throws a grin over his shoulder. “You sound jealous. Don’t be. Not everyone can handle a crowd like I can.”

Beau jogs back down the stairs, tossing a pair of sweatpants over to you. You quickly scramble into them, finally feeling a fraction of your dignity return.

He slides onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his side. “They still giving you a hard time?”

You give him a look that says, what do you think?

Jumping up, Beau looks over to the trio on the sofa. “Are you all bored yet? We’d like to eat breakfast in peace.”

Logan sighs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

The trio on the sofa turn to face away from you.

“Wanna play NHL?” Tucker asks, already getting up to grab the controllers and turn on the TV.

Logan’s focus shifts immediately as the TV screen flashes with the game’s start up menu. Within minutes, they are completely locked into their match, shouting at the screen and trading insults as if the morning’s interrogation had never happened.

You let out a long heavy breath, your shoulders finally dropping as the spotlight is away from you.

You stand up and stretch before taking a seat next to Dean. Beau’s taken over the cooking, and he slides a stack of unburnt pancakes towards you. “Eat up, sweetheart. You had a busy night.”

You roll your eyes, a small laugh escaping your lips as you take a bite.  

Lifting you by the waist, Dean positions you over Beau, who’s lying flat on the mattress. You’re already aching, your pussy quivering as you’re suspended over Beau. You can hear him breathing heavily under you, eager to have a taste, and it’s driving you insane.

“Wait-” you call shakily, you’re not fully seated yet but Beau’s already lifting his head, trying to lick at you. “Ahh, Beau.”

“I want you to smother him,” Dean whispers into your ear as he lowers you down fully over Beau. “He can take it.”

“I can, I can take it,” Beau tells you; his breath is hot against your core and you shiver. Strong hands come to spread you open as Beau sucks on your clit. He’s relentless, sucking and flicking his tongue where you’re most sensitive.

Hinging forward, you press your chest against Beau’s stomach, ass rising to the air as your forearms press into the mattress to hold yourself up. As Beau’s tongue continues to move over you, you reach out, lazily dragging your hand along his length and teasing the tip.

From behind, Dean has the perfect view of you spread open, dripping and ready for him. Your hole clenches as you feel Dean’s finger slide alongside Beau’s tongue. You won’t last long like this.

“Dean, please,” you beg, “I won’t last much longer, fuck me. Please,” your voice quivers, and it sends jolts of electricity down their spines.  

“So, so, needy,” Dean teases. He grabs hold of your waist and slowly drags his dick along your folds. “Are you ready for me?”

You whine in response. It’s a redundant question, he knows. Your folds are glistening, drenched in your excitement.

Over Beau’s head, he lines himself up and slowly sinks himself into your wet, hot, pussy. His eyes flutter shut as you squeeze around him. “So tight, so perfect,” he whimpers.

The praise has you pushing your hips back into him. He fills you up completely, thick and veiny. The dual attention leaves you dizzy, Dean slowly rocking into you as Beau’s tongue circles your clit again. Your thighs quivering around Beau’s face.

Tears prick your eyes in frustration as Beau’s mouth leaves yours. You were so close, “why,” you whine. Beau tilts his head up, tongue coming to where Dean disappears inside of you. As Dean plunges into you, Beau licks along the vein of his dick.  

Dean pulls back slowly, letting the tip catch on you.

“Look at our greedy girl clenching around nothing.” You never should have let them know just how much you like it when they’re mean and teasing.

“I know you want to see your boyfriend taste you on my cock,” Dean speaks to you sweetly, a stark contrast to the lewd things coming from his mouth.

“I do,” you whine. You want to turn, but Dean keeps one hand pressed against your lower back. Beau’s got his arms locked around your waist too.

You can hear the sound of slurping, as Beau tastes you on his ‘best friend’.

Desperate for some friction, to be touched, you grind down on Beau’s chin.

“Ow, are we not paying you enough attention?”  

“Please,” you sob. They’ve been edging you for almost half an hour now, bringing you close then leaving you dry. You need to cum.

“Ok, I’ve got you.”

Dean slides back into you as Beau takes your clit in his mouth again. Both moving with renewed vigour and a determination to make you cum.

“I could stay like this forever, buried deep inside you. I never want to leave.”

“Mhm,” Beau agrees around your clit.

Nails digging into Beau’s thighs, your mouth falls open as you wantonly moan.

You can tell Dean’s close as his thrusts get sloppy. He practically folds over you as he buries himself into you.

“F-Fuck, I’m… Fuckkkk.” Dean holds you in place as he squirts ropey cum into you. You feel the coil tightening in your belly, the pleasure rising up your body at the feeling of being so full and so surrounded.

“Yes, yes, I’m gonna-” your words cut off as your orgasm crashes over you. You collapse forward, falling onto Beau as you clench around Dean’s softening erection. He winces, he’s too sensitive but he doesn’t want to come out of you yet.

“That’s it, cum for us,” Dean coos, your body twitching as you come down.

Beau keeps his mouth on you throughout, not sucking, just on you gently. You hiss as Dean slides out, somehow feeling over and under stimulated at the same time. His cum leaks out of you, dripping onto Beau’s face.

You’re given no more time to rest as Dean lifts you by the waist again. You’re not small, but you’re flung around like you’re weightless. The joys of being with athletes, you muse to yourself as you’re flipped over.

There’s a lewd squelch as you’re lowered down onto Beau’s still stiff erection. A mixture of your wetness and Dean’s leftover cum making it an easy slide down him.

You’re spent but you want to do this for Beau. You lean forward, hands resting on his chest as you grind down into him. You rock your hips a few times, Beau’s dick circling around your walls.

Beau looks up at you, dark pupils blown as he takes you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is strained.

Pulling you down so you’re chest to chest, Beau plants his feet on the mattress and fucks up into you. Each thrust sends Dean’s load deeper into you.

Despite your fatigue, when he hits that sweet spot inside you, you feel the coil start to tighten again.  

Dean’s fingers slide in between you two. He knows just the right amount of pressure to apply, just the right way to circle you, and just the things to whisper to you, to get you to cum again. You cry out against Beau’s shoulder.

Your pussy is swollen and sensitive but Beau’s so close.

“Please… I can’t,” your voice is hoarse, your body is tingling.

“You can,” Dean calls. “You can take it.” He strokes your cheek, it’s soft and intimate. If you really couldn’t take it, you knew the word to say to get all activity to stop. They know you know it, you confirmed it before you started this, so Beau continues pounding into you through your whines.

“I’m almost there,” Beau grunts.

Beau spills inside of you, his cum mixing with Dean’s inside of you. You feel him twitch inside of you as he continues shooting ropey cum into you. You’re sticky, hole overflowing with cum, but content.

As aways, Dean’s ready with a warm washcloth to clean you up.

Beau rolls out of the bed to open the window. He spots your book, the one that inspired today’s activities and smiles fondly.

“This book of yours is incredible,” Beau says, flipping through the pages.

“Yeah, big fan,” Dean smirks, “What’s next?”

It started as a blocked nose. Every time you breathed in, you only managed to pull in a uselessly frustrating amount of air. No matter how much your nose ran or your head began to pound, you absolutely refused to believe you were sick.

It was a reality you firmly elected to ignore.

The denial became harder to maintain when the next day, it developed into a sharp pain at the back of your throat. Every swallow felt like you had deepthroated some sandpaper. You kept deliberately swallowing, desperately testing to see if the pain would just disappear. It didn’t.

Still, you refused to give in. Delusion had to carry you through as surely the universe wouldn’t align like this.

You had plans, very hot and sweaty plans, with your boyfriend and Dean, who didn’t have a label because what do you call the man who you and your boyfriend would spend many a night with and were most definitely falling for.

So, no, you weren’t sick because you just couldn’t be.

By day three, reality was quickly catching up to you. You were half-way through your morning lectures when suddenly you were seeing double of your lecturer. In your mind, Beau & Dean would still be able to come over tonight, you just needed a heavy nap. You refused to be the sole reason that everybody had to stay clothed.

Packing up early, you abandoned the rest of your lectures and slipped back to your apartment, determined to sleep it off.

Your body, however, had other plans. By the time you unlocked your door, you were so dizzy that you had to steady yourself on the wall as you stumbled into the bedroom. You had just enough energy to pull off the clothes you’d been in that had hit the lecture room air.

With a heavy thud, you collapsed onto the mattress. The tissue box on your bedside table became your lifeline, they were on rotation. One snotty tissue out and the next one immediately in.

Shakily, you reached for your phone, fully intending on admitting defeat and messaging Beau. You don’t remember how you drifted off, but the sound of a distant door slam jumped you out of your sleep hours later.

As you rolled over to face the bedroom door, the entire room span around you. The sleep had done nothing for you, in fact, you woke up feeling worse. Your head was pounding and, clearly, you’d been breathing through your mouth as it was dry, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth.

“Babe?” Beau called from the hallway, his footsteps getting louder as he approached the bedroom. “Are you okay? You’ve been silent all day, that’s not like–.”

His voice died as he rounded the corner into your bedroom. You watched as his bright smile instantly faded into pure concern.

“Don’t come any closer,” you croaked, your voice raw from how dry your throat was. “I’m really sick.”

Completely ignoring your ask, Beau pulled off his jacket and threw it onto your desk chair. “You say that like it’s going to stop me.”

He crossed the room in two long strides, sinking to his knees on the side of the bed. A cold palm was pressed against your forehead as Beau took you on. “Oh, baby, you’re burning up.”

Despite you wanting him to leave, you pressed your head into him, sighing with relief when his other hand came to your cheek.

“Beau, go, I’m probably contagious and it’s a bio-hazard in here,” you grumbled. Your arm felt like it weighed a tonne as you weakly lifted it to gesture toward the pile of tissues you’d discarded onto the floor.

Beau looked down at the mess on the floor, as if he hadn’t even noticed in when he walked in. Your heart squeezed with a mixture of shame and appreciation when you realised there wasn’t a single hint of judgement on his face. The past few days had taken a toll on you and your room bared the brunt of that.

Beau stood up and began cleaning up your room. He gathered the snotty tissues from the ground but didn’t stop there; he organised the books on your desk and wiped down the messy surface.

Picking up the clothes you had discarded, he tossed them into the laundry basket. Seeing that it was full; he disappeared with it down the hall, and soon you heard the washing machine click to life.

You drifted in and out of sleep as he worked, cleaning and putting things away as he saw them. He knew you would have been restless knowing that things were untidy, even if you didn’t have the energy to do it yourself. You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having someone like him.

When Beau returned to your room, he was carrying a fresh washcloth and a tall glass of water. Kneeling on the floor by the bed, he gently slipped an arm behind your head to help you sit up a little. The water felt so satisfying as it ran down your throat, soothing the fire there.

Once finished, he gently guided you back to lying. He unfolded the damp cloth and gently pressed it to your sweaty forehead. You hadn’t realised how badly you needed that until he was pressing it against you.

“Can you text Dean?” You looked up into his eyes, they’re gentle as always. “Tell him I’m sorry for ruining tonight?”

“He won’t care about that,” Beau murmured softly. He stayed in front of you on the floor, patiently wiping your neck with the cloth. And when your nose ran, he used the tissue to wipe that too.

“Tell me about your day, missed you,” you slurred.

His laugh was soft but he told you about his day. The soothing sound of his voice and how he wiped you down until the cloth was no longer damp acted as a sedative, it pulled you into another sleep without you even realising your eyes were closing.  

When your eyes finally opened again hours later, the room had gone completely dark save for the warm light coming from the hallway. Beau was no longer knelt in front of you. You gave a discontented mumble, slowly rolling to get your bearings, careful to avoid moving your pounding head too much.

“Hey there, sleepy.”

Arms came to wrap around you from the bed, but the voice hadn’t come from there. You blinked against the shadows, tired eyes straining to see the figure in front of you. “Dean?” you whispered, your brows furrowing in confusion.

He was sitting in the desk chair, leaning back very comfortably.

The way Dean said your name back to you had your heart skipping a beat. You hadn’t expected him to be here when you woke up. Of course you cared for Dean, you loved the wicked things that he did with you and Beau in the dark, but this was territory you hadn’t crossed before.

He had never seen you look this snooty, miserable, or unglamorous. You didn’t like how vulnerable you felt at that moment, how your mind wondered if he’d still find you attractive if he saw you at your, arguably, worst.

Standing up, Dean came to sit on the edge of the mattress next to you. He didn’t look at you like he was uncomfortable or seeing a side to you he didn’t like. He simply gave you a soft smile and began pressing the cool washcloth over your face, wiping away the fresh layer of sweat that was a mixture of fever and the furnace that Beau was next to you.

He then reached over, popped open the lid of the Vaseline that was on your bedside table, and used the pad of his thumb to spread it over your chapped lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“Beau texted me,” he explained softly. “Said our girl was out of action.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you protested weakly. You wiggled in Beau’s hold as he stirred beside you. “You both shouldn’t be. I’m gross and you’re going to get sick.”

“You’re not gross, you’re beautiful,” Beau mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

“I can be both,” you said defiantly.

“Here,” Dean said, ignoring your protest as he picked up the glass of water to offer it to you again. It was warmer than when Beau had given it to you, but still deeply needed. He held it to your lips, forcing you to take a few small sips.

“I think I’m fine now, you both should go.” You weren’t fine. Every move you made hurt. Your throat was burning and your teeth was beginning to hurt. Your muscles felt like they needed a good stretch.

Dean let out a soft huff, fingers brushing your face. “I’m not going to be present only for the good times, you know. I’m here for it all. You’re sick, so we take care of you.”

It all sounded so amazingly simple when it came from his mouth, but your fever ridden bran kept thinking about getting them sick. They were in varsity; they couldn’t afford to be knocked out by the thing that you knew would claim you for days. They had training sessions to attend, strict schedules to keep, fans they couldn’t disappoint, probably scouts that would watch them play their respective sports. It was a lot of pressure and you couldn’t be the reason they missed a game.

The hours of sleep you’d had did nothing to restore your strength, but that didn’t stop you from trying to argue. “But I–.”

“Do you really want to use the little bit of energy you have left arguing with us?” Dean interrupted.

“Yes.” You immediately responded, a weak grin on your face.

“All in favour of us staying and taking care of our girl?”

Both Dean and Beau raised their hands, shouting and very rehearsed sounding, “Aye!”

“Looks like you were outvoted. Sorry.” Dean does not sound the least bit sorry.

“That’s not fair,” you whined. “Have you no shame, ganging up on a girl when she’s vulnerable?”

Beside you, Beau laughed, a chuckle that vibrated through your body. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your neck, “Brat.”

As if on cue, a harsh cough ripped out of your chest. Then your nose began to run. You body really was being your own worst enemy. You pressed your eyes closed, willing the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Just leave me here, the death will come swifty.” With how you were feeling, it wasn’t the least bit dramatic a thing to say.

Dean laughed, the sound rumbling into the quiet room as Beau chuckled beside you.

“It’s a hard no on that one, but thank you for the suggestion. We’re going to take care of you, starting with me making you some soup.”

You opened one eye, looking at him sceptically. “Oh, so you do want me to die.”

Dean had the audacity to look offended, scoffing and placing a hand over his chest as if the last time he attempted to cook didn’t nearly give you all food poisoning.  

Beau’s arms tightened around you. “I will do the cooking,” Beau intervened smoothly, pressing another kiss to your neck. “Dean will do the supervising.”

“Hey, I resent the implication that all I’m good for is standing there and looking pretty,” Dean defended himself, tossing the washcloth onto the bedside table.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed; entirely certain that Beau was doing the exact same thing.

With a reluctant groan, Beau unravelled his arms from around you and slid out from under the duvet.

The bright light of the hallway flooded in as Beau left the room. You instantly closed your eyes to avoid the harsh glare. The moment the door clicked shut, you blinked them again, fumbling weakly toward the bedside table for the new tissue box that Dean had brought.

Dean beat you to it, smoothly pulling a tissue free and leaning across the mattress to help you clen up with an unbothered hand.

“Gross,” you whispered, cheeks burning from more than just the fever.

“Firstly, grow up,” he teased gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Secondly, trust me, you have no idea what gross is until you’ve spent a season in a men’s locker room.” He set the used tissue aside.

Reaching over, Dean clicked on the small lamp you had on the bedside table, bathing the room in a soft glow. It made his face look so warm. “Let’s get you to sit up, Beau will be back soon.”

He slid his hands under your arms, his touch careful as he helped you to sit. He plumped up the pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. You leaned back wit a soft sigh, the physical effort making your head swim just a little.

Dean stayed next to you as you heard Beau working in the kitchen. He sat on the edge of the bed, tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles. For a while, you just talked. You fever ridden brain had your thoughts going crazy. You told him how you felt guilty about ruining the night and that you didn’t want to ruin the season for either of them. Dean, of course, told you you were being ridiculous. They wouldn’t choose anything over being here with you.

It wasn’t long before the rich aroma of chicken broth began to drift into the bedroom, making your mouth water despite your lack of appetite.

The soft click of the door came not too soon after. Beau walked in carrying a tray, carefully balancing the streaming bowl of warm chicken broth, another glass of ice-cold water, and a small bottle of medicine.

He set it down on the bedside table before moving the pillows you were popped up against to replace them with himself. He sat with his back propped against the headboard. Dean helped as Beau pulled you into his lap, rearranging you so your legs were hanging off of the bed and your head was tucked into his neck.

You grumbled. Beau began rubbing slow soothing circles into your back, putting pressure on the right points to have the muscles relaxing slightly. “I know, my love. Take some medicine first.”

Dean handed you with some medicine and you swallowed it with the glass of water.

Once you finished with your glass, Dean reached for the bowl of broth. He sat beside you both and gently blew on the spoonful to cool it down before bringing it to your mouth.

“Dean, you really don’t need to feed me,” you said.

“Let us have this,” Beau whispered against your ear, he continued rubbing perfect circles into your back. “Just relax and let us take care of you.”

There was no real point in arguing, you didn’t hate that you didn’t have to make much effort when there were two athletes more than willing to do this for you. Dean fed you a few more spoonfuls before you pulled back, shaking your head. You had managed about half the bowl, and you couldn’t do anymore.

Dean set it back onto the bedside table.

“You did well,” Beau said.

“Better?” Dean asked, his voice a low murmur.

“Much better,” you breathed, your eyelids already growing heavy again.

“Good, let’s put something to distract you while the meds kick in.”

10 minutes later, the three of you were sitting against the headboard watching one of your comfort movies on your laptop. You were sat in between them, both having a hand on you in different ways.

Slowly, the weigt of the medicine kicking in took over. Your head began to droop, eyes shutting for longer and longer periods until you could barely open them at all.

Sensing your exhaustion, Beau slid down the bed until he was on his back, brining you with him. Sleepily, you crawled completely on top of him, your body sprawling over his. Your cheek rested over his heart, the sound soothing you to sleep easily.

Dean reached over to close the laptop, setting it on the floor before sliding back under the duvet. He scooted closer to where you and Beau were, draping a large, heavy, arm over your back.

“We’re definitely catching this flu, you know,” Beau chuckled quietly, his chest vibrating beneath you.

“Likely,” Dean murmured back, his eyes blinking shut as he rested his chin near Beau’s shoulder. “Worth it, though.”

“Definitely worth it.”

You’re lying on your back on Dean’s desk; legs pulled into your chest.

"Are you sure you can behave yourself?" Dean drawls, as he drags a finger through your already slick folds. A shiver runs down your spine, you know he isn’t speaking to you; you were actually told to be on your worst behaviour tonight.

“I can.” The words sound strained as they come out of Beau. He’s already been told off once. That’s why he’s sat with two pairs of your lace panties securing his wrists to the armchair. The chair is positioned so that Beau has a clear view of you spread open.

This whole thing had stemmed from Beau’s idea. Two nights ago, the three of you had been hanging out in the living room. You and Dean were playing on the PlayStation, giggling as loud explosions blasted from the TV, when Beau suddenly turned to Dean and blurted out. “I want to watch you fuck my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know why you had to mute the TV for that,” you snorted. “You’ve watched him fuck me a hundred times at this point.”

“Yes,” Beau swallowed hard, “but those times I was involved. This time, I just want to be in the room. Watching.”

That had your eyebrows raising. This was new. You like new.

Dean let out a dark, sharp laugh, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “You really think you can handle that, my man? You know how bad I want her; I’m not going to hold back to spare your feelings.”

“I can handle it,” Beau insisted.

Now, two nights later, you aren’t so sure he could.

Dean raises a finger, the one that’s slick with your arousal, to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking on it, humming around his finger. He pulls it out of his mouth with a loud pop. You both keep your eyes on Beau the entire time.

“She’s delicious, Beau. God, I wish you could taste it.”

Dean swirls his fingers around your clit, before running them between your pussy lips again. His fingers are glistening with your arousal when he walks up to your very frustrated boyfriend. Dean brings his fingers close to Beau’s face, close enough that he could smell you on his hand. Beau inhales deeply as Dean’s glistening fingers hover just inches from his lips. The familiar scent of your arousal hits him instantly, making his mouth water.

It's like you were so close, all he’d have to do is stick his tongue out and he’d be able to taste. But, that’s against the rules. Dean’s just being mean and you love it. Like a good boy, Beau leans back, away from temptation, letting out a breath of pure frustration.

Dean’s careful not to block Beau’s view of your body as he comes to stand back next to the table that you’re on. Beau actually whimpers as Dean uses two fingers to spread you a little further.

The blonde flicks on the vibrator, and slowly trails it down the back of your thighs. His movements are tortuously slow as he moves it up the lips of your pussy, both he and Beau watching in fascination as your hole clenches around nothing in anticipation.  

Dean turns off the vibrator just as he reaches your clit, resting the buzz less toy gently on you. Without the vibrations, it provides you with no stimulation, so you roll your hips up, trying to force some friction.  

A small chuckle escapes Dean’s lips at your attempts.

“You’re supposed to be teasing him, not me, asshole,” you growl breathily.

“I can do both,” Dean says smoothly.

You hate how unaffected he sounds as he keeps the toy off, denying you the friction you so desperately need.

“Look at him,” Dean commands softly, nodding in the direction of Beau on the armchair.

You shift your gaze, blinking through the haze. Across the room, Beau’s hands are tightly gripping the armchair, his knuckles turning white and the muscles in his arm tensing as he watches the two of you.

Breathing low and ragged, his eyes come to meet yours. The need in his gaze is overwhelming. He looks entirely undone by the situation, cock straining against his trousers when nobody has even touched him.

“Turn it on,” Beau grinds out, his chest heaving as he glares at the toy resting against you. “Stop messing with her.”

You let out a soft groan, your nails digging into your legs as you pull them closer to your chest. “Listen to him, Dean. Please.”

“Well,” Dean says as he pours some lube on the toy, “since you asked so nicely. Sure.”

Spreading your lips once again, he turns the toy back on and presses it right against your clit. Your back arches off of the table as pleasure shoots through you. Dean knows just the right pressure to apply, circling the toy around your clit to give you the perfect stimulation.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you moan noisily. “Fuck, there, juuust like that.”

Beau feels drunk on your moans. His eyes close as he listens to you, imagining it’s him bringing these sounds of of you.

You whine as the vibrator is taken off of you. “You said you wanted to watch me fuck her, so you have to watch, Beau. You stop watching, I stop fucking.”

Dean’s eyes blaze as you make eye contact with him, your eyes are pleading with him, begging him to continue.

“You look so good like this, I can’t wait to fuck you.” The words catch in Dean’s throat, the sight of you turning him feral. He takes his length in his hand, his dick throbbing in his fist as he worked along his length. His balls tightening as he watches you.

“Hurry up and make me cum so you can fuck me, then,” you manage out.

“Don’t look away from Beau, okay? I want him to see your face as I make you cum.”

Dean brings the toy back to life, going to the second setting and pressing it against you. Pleasure coils in your belly.

“I’m so close, I’m- I’m gonna.” The tightly wound coil in your belly snaps, shooting pleasure throughout your body as you cum with Dean’s name on your lips. He keeps the toy pressed against you as you grind your way through it.

“Ah~” you and Beau moan in unison. Dean helps you to hold up your twitching thighs so Beau can watch the after effects of your orgasm. The lube and your arousal are running down your pussy, leaving a mess on the table. Beau’s shaking in his chair, mouth salivating.

Dean picks you up easily and positions you on the bed so that Beau can see the length of your body. He immediately comes between your legs, lifting both straight up. He leans forward, shifting his weight on you until his chest presses against the back of your thighs.  

You hook your knees over his shoulders, drawing your legs further into your chest. He lines himself up and slides in, forcing himself to go slowly as you adjust to him inch by inch.

“I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day.”  

Dean pulls back until just the tip was left in. His eyes search yours and you give him a subtle nod as he thrusts into you. At this angle, you feel impossibly tight around him, gloving around him.

“Mmmm, you fuck me so well,” You whisper seductively in Dean’s ear and his hips snap into you harder at the compliment.

This angle also gives Beau a perfect view, his breath hitches as he watches Dean slide in and out of you. He’s hitting that spot within you that has you seeing stars.  

Sweat rolls down Dean’s neck and clings to his hair. He looks into your eyes, his usually playful glint replaced with something so sinful. He’s taking such good care of you. Emotion washes over you in this position, the trust you have for him with your body leaving you feeling too vulnerable, too open. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you as he continues fucking into you.

His hands come to cup your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, you know he’s close, he’s whimpering into your mouth and his thrusts can’t keep a consistent pace.

“Fuck me, harder,” you moan into his mouth, your voice quivering.

Dean adjusts his body to get more leverage to fuck into you. “Beau, are you watching?” He calls, his eyes not leaving yours.

Beau gives a straggled moan in response; his balls are aching and he desperately needs to come, but he’s watching.

Dean thrusts into you harder, two, three times before he’s cumming. He can’t help but call your name as he releases warm cum into you. You don’t take your eyes off of him, watching him become a blubbering mess under the force of his orgasm. He collapses on top of you and stays until his dick stops throbbing within you.

All the wetness surrounding your pussy forces a squelching noise as he slides out of you, it’s a lewd sound but heat pools in your belly.

Dean walks over to Beau and unties him. Beau’s immediately up, running to line himself up to your leaking entrance.

Dean collapses in the chair that Beau had occupied, thoroughly spent and content with his life with the two of you.

And that’s because it partially was.

For weeks, Beau danced around what he considered a bigger introduction than the one to his family: introducing you to Dean. He made excuses that always sounded just believable enough to pass. You saw through them, but didn’t push. You hadn’t understood his hesitation until you finally saw them together.

The second Dean entered the picture, everything clicked.

You spent the next few weeks observing them, catching the small details that anyone who didn’t know Beau as well as you did would miss. You noticed the way his dimples grew deeper whenever Dean was around. You saw the lingering looks Beau gave him when he thought nobody was looking. The looks were filled with a deep tenderness that bordered on something more complex than friendship, but not quite romantic.

For the weeks since you met Dean, you could see that, beneath Beau’s chilled exterior, there was a layer of hidden panic. A fear that you’d noticed the blurred lines of their bond and would force him into an ultimatum. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his best friend, but, with every passing day that he spent with you, he knew he couldn’t bare to lose you either. So, he lived in fear of the day where you’d finally confront him.

That was today.

“Why didn’t you want me to meet Dean, Beau?”

The question hung in the air, catching Beau off guard as he was pulling his shirt over his head. He froze, his shirt halfway over his head. When he finally pulled it off, letting the shirt fall to the floor, his dark hair messily fell over his forehead as he looked at you. His brow furrowed. For a second, his usually sweet demeanour faltered, replaced by a defensive one.

But he caught himself quicky, soothing his expression. He had no right to look at you like that, your question was soft, not accusatory in the slightest. Even if it were, you’d have every right to that.  

“I...um.” Beau swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. He knew this was coming. He had weeks to prepare what he’d say to you and how he’d explain it in a way that you’d understand.

But every time he tried to prep, he felt selfish. How could he tell you not to feel jealous? How could he beg you not to give him the ultimatum he believed would come when he told you? How could he explain a bond that he hadn’t even fully defined to himself?

Beau’s gaze broke away from yours. He looked away, staring at the ceiling, his jaw flexing.

“Okay,” you said patiently. “Let’s start with an easier question. Do you love me?”

Across the bed, his eyes locked on to yours immediately, expression serious. “Yes,” he said. “Please, don’t ever question that. I love you so so much.”

“I don’t question it; I’m just proving a point.” You crawled across the mattress until you were kneeling right in front of him. You reached out, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “And because I know you love me, and that I love you, I need you to hear me out.”

He swallowed before looking at you.

“I’m not blind, Beau. I see that there’s a bond between you and Dean.”

Beau flinched slightly against your palms, his breath hitching. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his heart clenching with guilt. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt,” you responded firmly. “But I’m not a homewrecker either.”

Beau’s eyebrows furrowed again. “Wh-.”

“Let me finish,” you said, continuing once he closed his mouth. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I don’t want to stand in the way of whatever’s going on. But... I would like to be part of it.”

Beau froze under your hands, his chest pausing mid-rise. “So... you mean?”

“I mean, if you’re okay with it, why chose between us, when we could all explore together?”

He stared at you, his pupils dilating as his brain tried to process what you were offering. It almost made you laugh at how quickly his expression darkened in desire.

The realisation that his deepest secret, the thing that had been causing him pain for weeks, was not only safe with you, but craved by you, unlocked something within him.

“You’re serious? You’re not playing with me?”

You leant in close to his face. “I am completely serios,” you whispered against his lips.

Before the last word could fully leave your mouth, Beau moved.

His hands wrapped around your waist before he threw his weight forward. You gasped as your back hit the mattress, the air leaving your lungs as he pinned you down.

Not giving you a moment to recover, his mouth was immediately on yours. It wasn’t his usual sweet kisses, it was demanding. His mouth moved against you all rough and desperate. The weeks of tension finally spilling out in this moment.

There was a hunger to him that you hadn’t experienced before. He nudged your legs open so he could lay in between them and you immediately wrapped your legs around him.

It’s like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, where to touch you first. His hands were all over you, touching your neck, cupping your jaw, sliding up your shirt, cupping your breasts.

His mouth was swallowing your moans as he ground himself against you. He didn’t stop rubbing himself against you until the wetness between your legs had seeped through your panties and on to the front of his boxers.

He pressed kisses over you as he undressed you both, his hands continuing their roam over your body.

“Take what you need, Beau.” You said as you drew your knees to your chest, exposing yourself to him completely.  

Gone was the Beau who was soft and gentle, he was a man on a mission. Positioning himself between your legs, he lined himself up and slowly slid inside of you with a long, low moan. He didn’t immediately begin thrusting. Instead, he rocked his hips back and forth, hair flopping as his head dropped.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know, I know you do. Now, hurry up and fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

A string of curses left your lips as he snapped his hips into you, building up to a quick pace. Every thrust was intentional, he wanted you to feel him, to know how deep his love ran for you. pressing your legs close to your chest, he snapped his hips into you harder, hips clapping against the backs of your thighs.   

Your head fell back in bliss as he reached between your bodies to rub at your clit. He groaned at the sight of you, head thrown back and eyes half-lidded.

It was the look on your face that had him cumming with your name on his lips. He did his best to keep moving, to keep giving you the friction that you needed to get off. It took a few more moments of caresses and whispers of sweet nothings before you were clenching on him, cumming with a silent scream.

By the time the night became the early morning, you were still awake. Even as Beau slept deeply, his arm slung over your waist, you couldn’t close your eyes, body too buzzed.

The weeks that followed that were easy. Beau no longer had walls up when you and Dean were in the same room, and that allowed you to get to know Dean better too. Dean had integrated into you and Beau’s life just as easily as you had integrated into Beau’s. You hadn’t felt like there was a piece missing until he somehow found a way to fit in. You didn’t know what to call him, a friend sounded wrong, your third-wheel sounded even worse. He was none of that.

The three of you sat in Beau’s dorm one Wednesday evening, scarfing down the meal Beau had made for you both. Dean was mid-sentence, ranting about something that had happened in training when Beau caught your eye. He gave you a slight nod. The green light.

“Dean,” you started, tilting your head as a wicked smile played on your lips. You leant forward, resting your elbows on the table in front of you as you looked him dead in the eye. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

Dean choked on his food, his eyes darting frantically between you and his best friend.

“Is this a trap?” He asked, throwing his hands up defensively. “I quite like my face and I don’t want Beau to break it.”

“Just answer the question, man,” Beau called from the other side of the table. He leant back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, amusement flashing in his eyes as he watched his best friend squirm.

Dean looked back at you, letting out a sharp laugh. “Well, duh. She’s hot and I’m a guy with eyes and a pulse. Of course I’ve thought about it.”

“Good,” you said, your smile widening as you took a sip of your drink. “Have you ever thought about what it would be like to fuck both of us at the same time? Me and Beau, to be clear.”

Dean turned his head toward his best friend, looking for backup, but found none. Beau was leaning back in his chair, a relaxed and incredibly smug expression on his face.

“She’s serious, D,” Beau said. He reached across the table, fingers brushing lightly against yours. “We’ve talked about it.”

Dean swallowed hard, his throat dry. The invisible boundary that Dean had spent months carefully respecting, the unspoken feelings he had locked away to keep from ruining Beau’s relationship, was being torn down right in front of him.

“It could get messy, sleeping with people who are in a relationship?” Dean hoped you’d dismiss his warning. You did.

“I like messy,” you replied with a shrug.

“So, what do you say?” Beau asked, staring at Dean. “Do you wanna have a threesome?”

Dean’s gaze darkened, his eyes flicking from you to Beau as he stood up from his chair. “Fuck yes. Let’s go.”