figsy malone.

⏱

Noon, the sky a pastel blue and pink-ish yellow, flitting through the clouds; a quaint ranch home with almost never-ending plains, nearby houses and one distant town miles in the horizon, so far away it looks like tiny specks amongst the endless pasture. 

It was rustic, and homely. It was almost a privilege to be standing here on his porch, admiring the view. The quiet calm, unlike the bustling multi-layered cities. Safer like this too, really. He felt that maybe, this was where he’d meant to be all along — despite his talents with the single action army; he was a cowboy, not a gunslinger.

He used to live on a farm like this once upon a time, many years ago as a boy. However, this time around, he decided not to burden himself with any excess responsibilities. Instead of something flashy with manual labour, excess mouths to feed or machines to operate, he decided on a comfortable homestead in the middle of the land without any work — nothing for him to do except relax, clean, cook and sleep.

This was his retirement, away from Overwatch, and something that was his alone. He could sleep at night knowing it was paid off with dirty money, he could ignore the ways he wasn’t always helping in the way that he wished he was— but when the nights were long and cold, it helped when his bed wasn’t empty.

Still on his porch, leaning over the railing with elbows jutted. It was nice to get fresh air; like I said, there’s not many places like this anymore. Untouched by the world, not piled up on top of itself to accommodate so many people. Not reeking of piss and machines.

⏱

“Hey.” He gruffly looked up. “Thought you’d stay out there forever.”

There he is, in all his glory, reclined back on his well-used couch, feet kicked up and one arm behind his head. His hat hung on the coat rack by the door, and his prosthetic arm sitting idly on the coffee table.

He was watching some western movie, typical of him, while giving his stump a rest. The residual limb barely peeked out from his short-sleeved wrangler. It looked uncomfortable, covered in those little red indented lines that revealed hours of use.

To Cassidy’s standards, a glass of whiskey with a coaster was as tidy as it got, however for once it wasn’t a complete mess. The metal arm stood against the side of the coffee table, his sock-clad feet resting on the surface with what I assumed were bounties and alerts from Overwatch — not that he talked to me about it, he just did a shitty job hiding it.

He was ‘ignoring’ his contracts, and the recall, letting the holopads pile up. He claimed he was ‘thinking about it’ before he committed to anything, and would leave it at that, silently urging me to drop the topic before he admitted something stupidly lovesick. He’s happy now, even if he wishes that things were different, and he would rather leave it at that.

I casually thump into the spot next to him, tucking myself into his side, his bicep nudging my shoulder as he attempted to wrap that arm around me. “Are you.. Cozyin’ up to me?” He hummed in amusement, eyes only briefly flicking away from the old film.

I shot him an unimpressed look, the kind that he knew all too well—

“What? I’m just askin’,” he smirked, “not complainin’ none.”

And it’s quiet. He’s just glad to be present, whether his time off is spent alone or not, it’s all the same to him. Although, it is nice to have something warm pressed against his side.

He’s seen this movie so many times that he’s mumbling along under his breath, turning his head just enough to press his nose against my hairline; eventually, he went quiet, pressing a short sweet kiss on my temple.

He shifted so his free — his only — arm was no longer behind his head, he kicked his feet down onto the floor and sat more upright. His thumb grazed against my thigh as he continued to inwardly recite the movie to himself, still pressing chaste kisses to my temple, cheek and eye.

I tilted my head to look at him, interrupting the onslaught of pecks against my face, “Cole,” I murmured in faux-stern; I knew him, he was predictable and far from subtle.

“Mhm?” He barely glanced away from the movie for a second, just pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth before acting all innocent, as if his hand wasn’t near groping my thigh with tender squeezes. “That’s my name.”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing. Jus’ thinkin’, the only thing that’d make this better is a good cigar..” Nothing was stopping him, not really. Not when this was his house, but truthfully he didn’t want to spend his fifties scrubbing the yellow off of the walls. That, and it was a good habit to keep.

“Really? I was just out there..” I teased, and he hummed again, shifting closer. His head dips, pressing a long, unsubtle kiss to my neck, lingering there. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and the lack of a secondary limb made things a little harder.

“In the mood.” He said, his voice low and rumbly, as if his actions weren’t loud enough. “C’mon, darl’, I’ve only got one arm. Make it easy for me, would’ya?” He sounded smug, making me do all the work as he placed open-mouthed kisses along my neck and the curve of my shoulder.

I straddled his thick thighs, letting my knees bracket his hips. “So.. You wanna have sex?” I questioned innocently with a teasing lilt at the end, his arm wrapping around my waist to support me, his bicep moving out of habit before realising it was a futile attempt.

“Mhm. Y’er so pretty, just wanna eat you up.” Yet, I had a feeling that was not what the lazy bastard was going to do. Despite knowing that, I moved in his lap, not quite grinding, but there was just enough friction that he couldn’t complain.

I pressed a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, his eyelashes fluttered shut and he chased the brief contact, wanting more of it, his hand pressing down on the middle of my back so I’d arch into him. He let out quiet grunts, rolling his hips periodically, slowly hardening beneath me.

My fingers ran through his messy locks, angling his jaw upwards as I towered over him. His bicep half wrapped around me the best it could, his mouth parting to try and let me in despite my lack of attempts; he licked my bottom lip again, a quiet ask, and got denied with a teasing nip.

“I think you’re sweet on me, but y’won’t admit it.” He was breathless, his western twang thick. He was a big ol’ baby, sulking that he couldn’t shove his tongue down my throat like a teenage boy with boundary issues.

He got a stern look in return, the kind that made him give a nervous chuckle and a lop-sided grin. He cleared his throat and shifted his hips, giving me access to undo his pants, as if his meager help would make it easier— better, somehow.

“Hm. Where on earth would you get that idea from?”

I barely managed to get his worn jeans past his thick thighs, his cock jumping to try and escape his boxer briefs, the wet smear of pre-cum revealing how his dick naturally lays to the side. 

He didn’t even seem phased, a sharp exhale and his thighs twitching that betrayed nothing— My fingers slid inside his underwear, wrapping around his cock, his skin burning hot to the touch and pulsing in my grip. That betrayed a lot.

“Darlin’, don’t be mean t’me.” He murmured, trying to play it cool, despite how obviously wounded he was by my teasing.

I hiked his briefs down just enough to free his cock, letting it twitch at the cool air. His arm circled my torso, then pulled me closer until we bumped crotches, his thumb digging under the waistband of my shorts in a silent plea to pull them off despite the position making that difficult.

“Want you.” All breathless and honest, “want you more than anything. Need someone to fill this saddle.”

I laughed at that, and rolled my hips for him when he dug the ball of his palm into the bottom of my spine. “How do you plan to fuck me with my pants still on?” I mused.

He wishes he had 2 arms right now — despite how good the reprieve from the cybernetic felt — his hand trying to grab greedy fistfuls of ass, fumbling with my shorts when he couldn’t decide if he wanted to go above or under the fabric.

“..Could rip a hole in ‘em?”

“Cole.” I warned him before he could get any other bright ideas. He was getting too old to act like this, so he rolled his eyes, wishing I’d entertain him just this once.

He gave a quiet ‘fine, fine’, then angled his knees for me to lean back onto. He liked doing the work himself, his fingers achingly pulling the shorts down my hips, his strong and comforting hand running across my legs to move them into a more favourable position, then thwip— both my shorts and underwear thrown somewhere to be found later.

A less selfish man would, in his words, ‘eat me up’, but he always had a habit of not thinking for himself, and when he did, it was typically with the wrong head. He knew 3 things: how to do what he’s told, how to shoot good, and how to fuck better.

“Gonna behave?” I teased, voice low and sultry, adjusting my legs yet again so I could press my core against his cock, grinding against the thick ridge on the backside. I towered over him like this, something that made him — a big, tough as teak mountain man — feel small for once.

He nodded eagerly, a sharp breath escaping him like he’d been shot. “Yes, ma’am,” he spoke against my lips, leaning in for another kiss and hoping he’d be rewarded. 

I continued my movements, his hips trembling with restrained effort as he tried not to buck upwards like an animal. His bicep flexed in a useless attempt to use the metallic hand that was usually there — his human fingers digging into my skin, biting crescents — he let out quiet hums and grunts, knowing better than to take, and never really wanting to properly ask.

“Darlin’, please,” he begged, voice rough like swallowing glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tossed his head back helplessly. “Use your hand or sumthin’, use your pussy. If you love me—”

I wrapped my fingers around the thick base of his shaft, squeezing enough to feel how the blood rushed through the vein there. He gasped and let his eyes flutter shit, his breaths desperate and ragged.

Angling his member straight up, I rubbed my clit against the deep red tip. “Look at me, Cass.” Grinding him through my slit, the fluttering hole kissing his tip like an invitation. The sticky pre coating my folds and modestly dribbling down his shaft.

He let out a desperate noise, akin to painfully swallowing his pride, and forced his head straight. “Pumpkin..” He started, voice rough and sultry with that tender name. “Have mercy on me,” his hips jerked in an attempt to close the gap. Frustration lingered on his expression for only a few seconds, briefly wishing he had two hands so he could grab me by the hips and—

Sinking down slowly, and all the fight suddenly left him. His hand slid under my loose t-shirt and ran up and down my spine briefly, trying to stabilise me, but also just to feel his calloused fingertips splay over the softness of my back. Droopy-lidded and dry-mouthed, his thumb brushed my hair away from my neck, smoothing it straight and collecting the beadlets of sweat already forming there.

“Christ, some warning next time,” he gasped, taking in a sharp inhale between his teeth, pushing himself flush against me, mons-to-mons, then a shuddering breath on the exhale.

“You said to take mercy on you,” despite the slow slide, I was light-headed from the size, taking a moment to adjust. I leaned forward, pressing my chest against his, feeling the way his breathing stopped while he looked up at me doe-eyed. “It would be cruel to not reward you for asking so nicely.” 

“Ah, love, just want you to take care of me,” He knew it was his cue to ask for what he wants, but he’d always preferred to do what he’s told and take what he’s given.

I shifted on my knees, getting the momentum I needed to grind into his lap, rolling my hips back and forth slowly, he let out a contented sigh. “Keep those eyes on me.”

“Always.” He murmured, there was an intimacy behind not being able to hide his gaze behind his hat. “I like seeing you like this.”

Chest to chest, my fingers reaching up to run through his hair, soft massages to his scalp. I leaned over him, my nose touching his as I craned his neck to keep him from throwing his head back. His arm still remained steady on my spine, running up and down in tender touches and ignoring the fabric there while his bicep tried to help my position.

He jerked his hips, small movements in time with my back-and-forths, pushing deeper into the A-spot and letting my vision spark white with that sharp pleasure that runs through my whole body. I let out an affirmative hum, and he absorbed the reactions.

“Gonna make you feel good, hon,” I huffed.

His fingers spread in a ‘V’ shape, his hand reaching under my ass to feel where we were joined, adding slight pressure to the backside of his cock. He let out a low groan; he knew how to be quiet, I was sure of it, not that you’d ever know from the way he’s grunting and cursing under his breath.

“Yeah, doin’ a real good job of it, pumpkin,” he reassured, lips parted in an attempt to suck in more air. “Keep doin’ what y’er doin’..”

“The exact same, or..?”

“Could kiss me, if y’er offering.” His nose bumping into my jaw, a soft nip there that earned his hair a sharp tug. My fingers slowly drifted down to cradle his face.

I pitied him, gently pecking him at first and feeling him melt. I would tease, say I’m not offering, but he made pretty little gasps and groans that sent sparks of heat straight through me. He licked at my bottom lip again, silently asking entry; whining ‘aw, c’mon’ under his breath when he got denied again, but he continued the eager nips anyway.

Mouths melding together as I continued to bounce myself on his lap, his hand grabbing a fists-worth of my waist to help. He was trying to steal the air from my lungs, pressing into me with a bruising amount of force, sloppy and far from graceful. I tried to keep it steady despite the effort it took to ride him, and he was losing his rhythm fast.

“Gonna cum?”

“Mhm.” He whined, low and rough in the back of his throat, his hand squeezing the fat of my hip. He let out a half-hearted nod, one that only smeared a mess of saliva across my lips.

“Gonna do it inside of me?”

“Fuck,” his eyes fluttered for a second; his hot breath on my lips, and balls drawing tight. He continued to buck his hips, pushing his cock in that little nook beside my cervix. I reached down with frantic circles, the uneven pace working against me. “Yeah, darlin’, ‘m gonna cum. You’re— shit, you’re gonna make me cum.”

That was the secret phrase, like a slutty version of ‘open sesame’, I parted my lips just enough for him to swipe his tongue over mine with a low groan. He moved slowly at first, tentative with self control, then pushed insistently forward. I craned my neck awkwardly and tugged his hair to steady him.

Undulating his hips and losing sync with each other, becoming desperate with pants and moans, this was the kind of hard work that he excelled in. “Like this?” He grunted, swallowing hard and all breathless, he could already feel the tension in his hips. 

“Cole, I’m—”

“Me too, pumpkin,” he huffed, his head drooping to my shoulder, his hair bunching up against his forehead as he writhed under me. I felt the muscles in my back tense under his large palm, my body careening into him in an attempt to turn to jelly.

His back arched into me, letting me lean fully into him, his hand rising enough to hold my torso flush against his chest and his residual arm making the familiar, futile attempt to complete the embrace.

“I got you,” he murmured sweetly into my jaw with hot, open-mouthed kisses across my neck and collarbone. My body jolted suddenly, and his hips stuttered; my insides pulsed around him, clenching and gushing. He let out a low groan, biting his lip to muffle any unsavoury curses, and I felt him cum— hot and heavy inside of me, his dick throbbing with each squirt before he collapsed entirely, melting into the couch.

The air was thick and heavy for a moment, both of us panting and gasping in aftershocks, waiting for the thrum to leave our bodies. The only other noise in the whole house was from the television, still playing that old western, his forehead and nose nuzzling into my neck while I barely managed to stay upright.

Breathing steadied, and I slowly rose up, letting him slip out of me, the gooey mess hitting his lap with a gross squelch. Like already established, he wasn’t really the pinnacle of cleanliness, he can just tuck himself away into his briefs and pretend he’s fine, wash it off in the shower later.

Wobbling on my feet, and using his knee as support. “Cass, where’s my pants?” I mumbled, the oversized shirt doing just enough to cover me as it reached down to my thighs, stopping his gaze from seeing the smear of cum there. I glanced around briefly, the wooden floorboards bare of any offending fabric.

“I dunno,” he yawned lazily, squirming to try to tuck himself away and get his jeans back over his thighs, evidently struggling due being one-handed.

He noticed the way my eyebrows knitted, scanning the floor carefully like it’d jump out at me.

<3

it starts when you bring him coffee, random and out of the blue to the point where you’re not sure why you even did it, just a friendly gesture i suppose, but he quirks an eyebrow and he takes a polite sip, and is surprised that it’s not burnt and bitter — it’s sweet, and creamy, perfect down to singular grains of sugar. he recoils, awe on his face as his tongue darts out to collect the milky-foam across the stubble of his short trimmed beard.

“god, i love you.” he’d say, tumbling from his lips like a sin but he’s not even embarrassed. not even a pink dusting. it’s the first time he says it yet neither of you bat an eye because truthfully, it wasn’t all that serious at first.

but then it stuck. stuck like a fly in a gluetrap; inhumane to the fly but second nature to anyone else, so normalised that you see it struggling to free its feet that it lands face-first and you still don’t do anything.

lines would quickly blur between friends and not quite more; you can’t draw that line, it’s hard to stop it when you both like it, and it gets so heated at times that neither of you can see in the fogged up windscreen, or the rearview. 

so when he’s driver and you’re passenger, the tension is thick yet somehow hardly even there at all. his fingers twitch to touch you but dares not cross the middle. he settles for the arm across the back of your headrest when he reverses, and when he brakes, his arm reaches in front and across your body like a safety net, because a man who provides and protects does it like a baser instinct.

and when he drops you off to where you call ‘home’, deep down a word he wishes was synonymous with his name. “love you!” he’d call out casually like it meant nothing, like a casual goodbye, like you could say it to just anyone.

it was becoming so normalised and routine that you took notice when he didn’t say it, his ‘love you’ was now his ‘see you later’, and who leaves without a simple goodbye?

eating at home or eating out — he shares food like it’s intimate and personal. he shares food from his damaged home with bittersweet memories, and food from his lightly traveled time as a, err, some would call him a ‘soldier’ — and naturally, i mean food from the times when they weren’t just barely getting by on rations alone.

nimble fingers moving and digging against the plate of food, collecting little balls and sharing the sweetness of the moment. his lips brush innocently against fingertips, cleaning his mess as you pop them into his mouth. he’ll chew down, mumbling “i love you” with his mouth full.

he calls you “mô” — short for amore; even when subtle, he’s calling you his love — fitting tiny pieces of affection into every breath he takes. he’s a sucker for pet names, trying to find something that makes you weak, makes you think he’s so charming that you preen and can both ignore that glaring question; ‘what are we?’

and eventually, it becomes more than that. you’re not nothing — you’re something now. the word “boyfriend” is like a ghost; you’re not sure it’s even real, and he’s tip-toeing around a sleeping giant. yet he’s yours nonetheless, so you don’t think about it, selfishly, it doesn’t matter if you’re his in return. so you let it take its own pace, and he reassures you and says, “don’t worry, i love you,” as if that was the problem.

you don’t know how you got here, the term friends has gotten awfully loose-meaning nowadays, but he’ll say it during sex like it’s a prayer, like you’ll slip through his hands and he’ll wake up with sticky boxers. the words are said when you come up for air after giving him head; cum and saliva clinging to your lips and chin. he’d help pull you up like a ragdoll finding strength, and he’d kiss you despite. “i love you,” as a tender gratefulness.

he’ll say it when he’s returning the favour. you ride the high all over his lower face, and he takes it like a reward. “that’s it, that’s my love, just keep coming”

and of course, after sex when he’s a cat in the sun, it’d fall from his lips like a lazy sigh of much more than just content. “i love you.” his arms wrapping around you and holding you to stay with him.

he tries to be a good man — truly he does. but he becomes ill-mannered when his tongue gets loose. he’s glued to your side, hand on your hip. he gets a might too drunk, and god does that whiskey mouth not know how to shut up.

casual, down-low even. really not a stickler for labels. they’re just words, after-all. but then he’s parading around like he can’t sit still either, whiskey spilled down the front of his half-open button up, his chest hair sticky with would-be-regret.

“oh, i love you,” he says loud enough that he’s not ashamed, not bothered by a dirty secret. he doesn’t read the room and you’re probably too gone to fully notice it either.

he says it, enunciates it, every syllable. he says it like he’s learning the word, like a spelling bee. love. l-o-v-e, luh-ve; an intense feeling of deep affection, or to like and enjoy very much.

“you have no idea how much i love them—”

he wakes up with a sinking quicksand pit in his chest, and you’re by his side. you both question what is remembered of the night before. maybe you regret mixing friend groups. some things need to be separate but you should’ve chosen segregation from the start instead of slow feeding until his friends were also yours and vice versa, so really, it was ultimately doomed since then.

then it’s tense coffee. tense drive to get brunch. tense ‘sitting on the couch pretending it’s a comfortable silence so we can call it a date instead of avoiding whatever is making it hard to breathe in here’; tension like a cord, tension like a tightrope of carlos trying to do the right thing but feeling dissatisfied anyway.

he clears his throat, shifts how he’s sitting, pulls his arm away from behind your head, not draped out so intimately, instead pulled to his own chest like a wounded bird.

where to start? 

he made a fool of himself, as he tends to. it feels like an MRI scan ripping metal through his organs. but it’s deeper than that now. these feelings aren’t just between you and him now, it’s his friends and your friends. it’s any unfortunate soul that happens to be in the vicinity of you both like a damn cloud lingering overhead like a shadow.

…

“so.. i’ve guess i gotta ask,”

the air is stale, filled with static like the dry air and gray sky before a thunderstorm. not the violent kind, the one that cracks the sky like a whip while you sit on the porch with him, pointing out the bright white flashes and laughing together.

<3

Elbows jutting into each other as they stand in line. It was like they were glued to the hip, one wasn’t far from the other, always hovering — it was a sibling rivalry, bickering and shoving each-other.

It was a small apartment, tiny even. I don’t think you could even call it 3 bedrooms if you tried. Cramped like sardines, it was near impossible for intimate moments not to be permeated by the other, intentional as it may be.

Early Tuesday, at some fuck-off hour in the morning, all congregated in the kitchen for breakfast. A mix of smells from bacon, eggs, toast, and to what looks like protein sludge. 

“Relax, Super-cop. We’re just talking.” Carlos would snide as Leon pulled his mug from the top shelf, busying himself far too close to be coincidental. The instant coffee was almost out of arms reach as he dragged the sugar container closer.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Leon grumbled under his breath, boiling the water intentionally loud enough to disrupt the conversation.

Carlos had the inedible looking sludge, and he was kind enough to cook the eggs and bacon for Leon. I took the toast, and a stray piece of bacon — and the day went on as usual.

…

I’d be dumb not to see it. Men are like dogs; all bark and no bite. They’re also territorial, yet loyal to a fault. Bickering turned into bared teeth and snarling. They weren’t exactly subtle.

…

A movie with Leon, sitting on the couch together, his arm draped across my shoulder so casually and twirling a tuft of my hair. The rain poured down, pitter-patter against the windows as Carlos was quick to move out the door for work. He stopped so quickly that he almost skidded against the floor, but he was in too much of a rush to speak.

That in itself is small;

But then the fight would break out. Hushed yelling, the small thuds of them shoving each other. “What’s your fucking deal?” Carlos gritted out quietly, his thick arm across Leon's clavicle; pinning him into place. “What happened to no touching?”

…

Small flirting here and there, touches when they could. Always right under the other's nose. I almost took it as an insult to my intelligence as they shyly pressed the line of how far they could go, their flirty jokes turning more earnest.

Yet, admittedly, it was nice being the centre of attention, and they really know how to pick the time for it.

The fighting doesn’t stop, still chasing little bids of affections and small one-ups against each other. Both of them constantly encroach into my personal space, hell, if I didn’t know before— I’d have to be oblivious not to know now.

“Hey, don’t let him fool you, I can be charming too. I just don’t make it my whole personality.”

“And what is? Standing there, looking pretty?”

…

“Did you practice that in the mirror, or..?” Leon chided, jealousy stirring at how smooth his lines tended to be, while Leon fell flat awkwardly, relying heavily on jokes instead of compliments. 

“And was that a real question, or another of your jokes?” Sarcasm rolled off his tongue easily as they stood across from each other in the small bathroom, trying to get ready for work while they took turns using the sink.

“Right. And you hovering like that all the time isn’t obvious at all.”

“I’m spending time with her.”

“You’re performing. Worse, you’re third-wheeling.”

Carlos spat and rinsed his toothbrush. “Third-wheeling?” He scoffed in offence, his head jerking to look at Leon. He took a moment to watch Leon throw his uniform in the dryer, so last second and unprepared. He knew it was true, his hackles raised and his tone was short. “You mean that I happen to be in the same vicinity as you because our apartment is a fucking shoebox?”

“That, and it’s like a second without her attention would kill you.”

“Are you jealous?”

It fell from Carlos’ mouth without missing a beat, leaving the bathroom quiet. Leon’s gaze was heavy and thick, and Carlos’ snippy attitude didn’t help. Another fight was probably on the horizon, but held back considering there was someone else in the other room that they didn’t want to concern.

“I’m just saying you could be less.. I don’t know, what’s the word?” He mused, feigning trailing off as if he didn’t already know the myriad of insults he could use; starting with asshole, pathetic, lost dog—

Carlos busied himself with his hair, the untamed mop covering his forehead, his hands scrambling to tie it back out of his face. “Stop talking, Leon.” He warned. 

Leon knew better. He would push it under any other circumstance, but he didn’t want to be late for work, or show up with a black eye from the second biggest guy he knows right after Chris Redfield, so he kept his dumb mouth shut.

And Carlos seemed smug at that, the tension still thick and he was still feeling scrutinised under Leon’s gaze. Eyes flicking across his features, landing repeatedly on his lips and making Carlos bristle.

“What?”

He tapped the corner of his own mouth. “You got something right there.”

With the back of his hand, he wiped the white foam from the corner of his lips and left in a huff; he had better things to be doing than sit around and argue with Leon. He stormed out of the room, wanting to slam the door behind him, but managing to refrain.

…

So, they’d go to work, both high-strung from living in an apartment basically crackling with electricity at all times and a fight always a breath away. 

Carlos — a fitness instructor slash personal trainer, probably works with half of the police force anyway. Tight knit community and all that — waits until he’s between clients. Lifting weights that make his arms shake, sprinting on a treadmill until he’s gasping for air and his legs feel like they’re burning. It takes a lot to cut through his stamina, and by the time he’s ready to collapse, in walked his three o’clock. 

“Oh, hey, Kev. Just a moment and I’ll be with you, alright?” He tries to feign that he’s fine despite how he’s doubled over for breath. 

Leon paced the library with books tucked under his arm, returning them from the cart to their designated spot. He busied himself by taking a book from its slot, walking a circle around the library and then placing it back where he took it from. He was like a ghost in the police station, mentally revisiting the last few weeks and every fight since.

Echoing the arguments in his head with a frown, sarcastically muttering under his breath. He was relatively composed — he felt like he’d won this morning from the way Carlos stormed off — but he was still frustrated; Carlos was smooth and Leon was.. An awkward mess, on the best of days, and he knew it. I think to an extent, everyone knew it.

He didn’t question his self worth. He knew he had a chance, but he questioned whether or not it was worth competing since it all felt futile now and it was going to hurt someone. Deep down, he knew he should’ve just stayed in line when they agreed to suffer in silence.

They both drag themselves home, parking their cars at the same time. Carlos buzzed the doorway first, and Leon slipped in before the door shut. They took the stairs, Leon a constant 10 paces behind, his gaze downcast.

Fucking gym-bros; thin tank top thats basically sticking to his body, he reeks of sweat, and his thick thighs powering up the stairs. A snide remark stuck on the tip of Leon’s tongue but he just wanted to get inside first.

Thin hallway with a barricade to the left side facing the gardens, two or three stories high. Carlos glanced behind him before scoffing, his keys rattling when pulled out of his pocket. Leon stepped, waiting.. waiting.. waiting– Carlos blocked the doorway, slumping against it with a soft thud. 

“Get it out now before we go in.”

Tempting, so tempting.

“It’s been a long day,” he tried to deflect calmly but Carlos stayed rooted in his spot. “We’re not gonna fight.”

“Bullshit.” 

He still didn’t move from out the doorway, keys tucked tightly in his hands, spinning them idly. There was something in the way Leon carried himself, he’d probably been writing snarky comments in his pocket notebook all fucking day.

“You stink of sweat.” He practically spat in return. “I don’t want to stand out here.”

“And what do you want?”

“To kick my shoes off. Some good dinner. For you to get out of my face and take a damn shower. Take your pick.”

Carlos huffed, arms crossed. “What are you getting at?”

“You know she only likes you because you’re hot.” It was stated like a fact and hung heavy in the air. Maybe an ounce of truth behind it, Leon was.. Tiny, when placed side by side. A few months older, and only a few cm shorter, but no one could ignore the 30 pound difference.

And then there was silence. Despite finally confessing what he’d felt for a while — that Carlos was hot, charming and definitely had more going for him in comparison — there was an underlying sense of not feeling relieved to admit it. Like, as if he’d just bared his biggest insecurity; not being enough.

On the other side of the coin, or thin hallway, there was Carlos. Smug, pissed off, and a little unsure how to take being called hot. “You were the one who made the first move when we agreed not to.” He shifted from foot to foot. “And now you’re trying to make me feel bad?”

“No,” Leon shifted too, hands clenched into fists.

There wasn’t much room for an argument, Carlos rolling his eyes and jerking his head to look back down the hall, twisting the keys in his fist to hear them jingle.

“Do you have a warrant?”

“What?”

Carlos’ gaze flitted up and down Leon briefly, making Leon realise he’s still a public servant as long as he’s wearing this damned uniform.

“Sorry. I can’t let you in without a warrant. Yeah, I think it’s called trespassing. Something about it being against the law for you to enter when I’m telling you to fuck off?”

…

I walk down that same thin hallway, feet dragging. I tried to hide my annoyance when I see them still in the hallway, now bickering with a certainty that they knew who would win, but they couldn’t see past their egos.

“You try too hard, Kennedy.”

“I don’t have to try when she already likes me,”

I rub my hand against my forehead, and they notice my approach, Carlos shoves at Leon to get him to notice too. “Funny. I was under the impression she could decide that for herself.” Carlos spoke, almost condescendingly, like they remembered I was a person.

“Fine, Yeah. So we can stop doing this.”

“Yeah. That’d be great, actually.” Carlos was just about over it. Leon forced a stiff nod and tried to look like Carlos hadn’t dug himself three inches under his skin.

Why’d they have to be so fucking stupid? Great, now I was in the middle of this. I just glanced between them, and honestly I could’ve saved a lot more time by not letting them fight every single day like clockwork.

“Can you just pick? You don’t have to drag it out,”

I shoved Carlos out the way, leaving him a little starstrucked. “Drag what out?” I feigned playing dumb, hoping they’d work it out without me having to say it.

Leon gestures vaguely between them, they’re both completely stunned by how casual I’m being about this and how I’m ignoring Carlos’ question entirely.

“Oh. The competing?” I turn my key into the lock, shoving the door open and finding my way in. Tired and drained from work with two grown-ass men following behind me like lost puppies, expecting me to offer them the validation they needed.

“Yeah,” Leon confirms immediately. “Exactly.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

There was a long silence, disgustingly long, I mean as if I’d just ripped out their tongues. Then a tense silence washed over the darkened, empty apartment. We all take a moment.

Leon kicks off his boots, shrugging off his thick uniform until he’s just in his slacks and undershirt. My bag hits the ground with a thud and I b-line to the fridge, while Carlos focused on untying his hair and running his fingers through the tangled curls, feeling the grime and sweat stick to him as his eyes dart to the bathroom.

Everyone mentally planned their escape routes if things went south. And it stays silent, like there’s a million questions.

Carlos was wound tight like he was about to snap. He was a lost dog at times, Leon was right about that. There was now a sudden looming threat of a decision being made, and there was very real fear in their minds of someone losing. Carlos had no idea what he was going to do, a pit forming in his stomach as he mentally braced for rejection; in his mind's eye, who would pick him over Leon?

“God damn it, Leon, why’d you have to go and–” He threw his arms around in a huff, too frustrated to stay still, and trying not to pull out his own hair in the process. “We had a good thing going before you went and—!”

“Me?” He retorted back in offence. “We said– Yeah, but things change.”

That hurt, enough where Carlos looked momentarily stunned. He opened and closed his mouth, a weak scoff escaping his lips instead of words as he took a heavy step towards Leon, finger jabbed in his direction.

“I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing!” Leon defended himself, shoving at Carlos when he tried to get closer, creating some semblance of space.

“And I thought we were on the same page!”

For the first time in weeks, there was a flash of guilt across Leon’s features. “I didn’t think you’d actually care this much, I thought—”

Like snarling dogs at each other's throats and pulling on their chain as far as it would go, pushing and shoving, and grabbing, and yanking at each other. Carlos felt betrayed, Leon felt like it was his right, and neither would admit defeat.

It was awkward to stand by and watch, they were pathetic, truly. I never realised how being so head over heels turned men into idiots, and how big of a turn off that could be. Jesus fucking Christ, you think they’d come to the conclusion of a threeway on their own.

My tone was even and flat, controlled and steady; “Wow, this is.. Really sexy, actually.”

“Are you serious?” 

They spoke up in unison, the off-handed comment silencing their argument immediately. It felt like time froze still as they both let go of each other and took a step back. Leon straightened himself, and Carlos released his threatening hold.

“No.” I scoffed. “It’s annoying, god– just make out already.”

…

The air was hot and sticky, dim lights except for a cracked blind, Leon melting as he moved his lips slowly. His hands balled obediently into his lap, his eyelids fluttering with self control.

Fingers kneaded into his hair, then running down his shoulders, and he let out a low groan when he felt goosebumps follow the touch like a ghost.

Carlos pulled me by my chin, forcing his lips onto mine like he had something to prove. He was trying to take control, yet was being rejected at every turn, his tongue swiping my lip for entry and being ignored.

His hand was cupping my face with fingers gently across the nape of my neck, reverently his other hand touched my side, feeling the curve of my hip. Leon was a good boy, waiting patiently with his forehead on my shoulder. 

Carlos tried to keep his breathing steady despite the way his heart was thumping against his ribcage. He frowned when I pulled back, but used it as his chance to slow his breathing. In, one.. two.. three… out— 

I tilted Leon’s head back, nipping at his pouty bottom lip before pulling them both closer, slotting myself between them like I belonged there. Carlos dipped his head to my neck, it was awkwardly quiet, just the wet sound of lips smacking, the rustle of movement and heavy breathing. No words, no moans, no background noise, maybe the occasional panted breath at the most.

Slowly, Carlos moved from open mouthed kisses on my collarbone and the curve of my neck, upwards to my jaw. It was hesitant at first before his hand went back to my face, holding me still.

Leon shifted slightly to the side, taking one corner of my mouth and giving Carlos the other, both struggling to be considerate and take turns. With my hands on the scruff of their necks, I pulled back enough and guided them to each other.

They kissed once, then twice, realisation dawned on them quickly but it was again and again, Leon’s hands digging into the back of Carlos’ hair, knots between his fingers. Both of them are hesitant yet not wanting to look weak in front of the other. The sound of wet lips smacking, and teeth clicking together.

“I thought you’d enjoy this more,”

Carlos swiped his tongue across Leon’s bottom lip and to my surprise, Leon actually let him in, and he whined at that, craning his neck into it. “Carlos–” He was trying to pull him closer despite the way his hands fisted into the bedsheets.

I reclined back onto my elbows, watching, admiring, actually pretty happy with myself like the cat who got the cream. I shifted my position, jutting my elbow into the front of my shirt to easily pull it over my head, tossing it past them.

The faint sound made Carlos’ eyes snap open, he tried to pull back, eyes glued to the way I shimmied out of my shorts. Leon made a sound of protest, his lips chasing Carlos, kissing at his jaw before noticing the sight too.

Leon moved first, greedy and impatient, like he couldn’t live without a second of his lips being on someone. Down my neck, collarbone, jaw, shoulder; anywhere his mouth could reach. Carlos joined too, gentle and tentative kisses mixed with sweet nothings, his arms supported himself despite how they twitched to touch me. 

“Fuck, you’re so– so..” Leon’s hands splayed across my stomach, slowly inching behind to try and unclip my bra, I pulled back before he could, and in retaliation I pushed Carlos flat onto his back. 

And Carlos was almost insulted by that, until I untangled myself and shifted to straddle him, feeling his bulge under his sweatpants, and my hands slid up under his shirt to feel his toned stomach, feeling it twitch under my touch.

He smirked, hands running up and down my sides, “Hey, gorgeous..” He shifted himself easily despite my weight, peeling the shirt off completely, and reclining against the pillows. “What about Leon?”

He was considerate. I liked that, he was good with sharing, even when Leon wasn’t. I shrugged, and Carlos laughed.

“Oh, too eager, huh?”

Leon winced, mumbling apologies and sinking onto his knees behind me and between Carlos’ legs. His head rested on my shoulder blade, and his hands found purchase on Carlos’ thighs in an attempt to keep them to himself (and failing, depending on who you ask..)

The bed was surely not big enough for 3 people, but it didn’t stop anyone from trying anyway.

I moved my hips, grinding in odd shapes with no actual rhythm to it, while Carlos dug his thumbs into my waistband, almost like waiting for consent. “What are we gonna do?” I teased. Part of me missed the fighting, but this was nice in its own way.

“Mhm..” He sighed, his hips flexing into me. “We can take turns, or at the same time, or..” That made Leon raise his head, nose pressed into my hair.

“Same time?” I snorted. “I’m not giving you head–”

“I didn’t say head,”

I furrowed my brows at that, waiting for him to explain or elaborate in some form, but he stayed silent. Though it seems like I was the only one who didn’t understand considering the way they were both pressing against me.

“You wanted both of us.. Makin’ us share..” Leon murmured. Oh. Who knew greed could backfire so badly?

Yet, it wasn’t the worst idea they’d had so far..

Carlos’ hands moved slowly, unclipping the bra and slowly peeling it off, reverently, patiently, then threading his fingers through my hair to move it away from my neck so Leon had something to sink his teeth into.

Leon was next, moving close enough for us to peel his shirt off, leaving him in cotton pyjama boxers and Carlos in his sweatpants. 

I suppose that was my cue, so I began to pull my underwear down agonisingly, tufts of the mons peeking out before I shifted to awkwardly tug them off and throw them with the other pile.

Leon moved quickly, letting go of Carlos’ leg, leaving moon shaped imprints and drifting his palm to my apex. Carlos watched, hands roaming casually across my body and face in adoration.

He stood pressed firmly against my back, his hand moved slowly, easing at first, just rubbing all 4 fingers flat against my cunt, letting the wet-sticky sound fill the air and turn Carlos’ ears that faint pink that you can hardly see on his golden-warm skin.

If I had any shame, I wouldn’t be bowing into his touch while Carlos watches, and gropes, and grabs.

“Is this okay?” Leon nipped at my ear, prodding his two middle-most fingers. I nodded, eyes half lidded and looking down at Carlos — feeling them both press into me — then his fingers slowly sank in, reaching to the hilt, palm flush against me.

My eyelashes fluttered as I tried to bite back any noise, but Leon moaned right into my ear without any shame to compensate.

“Que vista..” Carlos let out a low whistle, listening to the squelching sound of Leon curling his fingers and trying to rock his hand.

He found the spongy spot quickly, and he was probably enjoying it just as much. My head craned back to lean against his, and I could hear him panting out sweet coo’s right next to my ear, all open mouth and breathless.

“You feel good,” he whispered, the ball of his palm digging into my clit, rolling it into small circles in time with his movements so I could feel it. “Can’t wait to have you.”

Carlos’ hands stopped shy of my ribs, watching me squirm slightly and gasp on Leon’s fingers. My throat bobbing with each noise. 

There were weeks— months of lingering tension from everything beforehand, so despite the intimacy, it was quiet. It was more about taking time to bask in its glory, so there was a subtle silence of just taking it all in, entirely wordless except for small noises of debauchery. 

My nails bit into his arm, holding him in place as I squirmed my hips. Leon hummed in approval, watching me unwind and take. “S’beautiful like this..” He let me grind against his hand helplessly, rolling my hips as he crooked his fingers.

Leon squeezed a handful of thigh with his spare hand, keeping me in place for him to thrust his hand. My head leaned back against his shoulder, low sounds from my throat.

“Use your words, bebe,” Carlos spoke, hands still travelling across my body to keep himself busy, “don’t be so cruel to keep your noises from us.”

I nodded dumbly. “Dunno what to say-haah—”

“Don’t have to say much,” Leon started, “I just gotta know when something feels good–” there was a pause as he shifted his hand again, making me careen enough that he had to steady me, “or when you need something..”

“I need to cum,” I huffed out, losing my patience as it grew, building that pit in my stomach more and more, twisting and lurching as it felt near. So fucking close, like an impending reward for my not very hard work.

He moved languid, pumping in and out like he was taking his time. “Oh, I bet.” It was almost teasing if not for the sincerity behind it, his fingers getting sucked in as he searched for what made me tick.

Carlos’ face was hard and focused, his brow twitching at the rhythmic wet sounds that he tried his best to not look at. His gaze averted from the source, watching me— only me. The way my face twisted, small little gasps and pants from pouty and kiss swollen lips.

It was addicting, blood rushing to my face and through my fingers until they tingled, and down to my cunt, then my toes. I let the shiver crawl up my spine, the hair on my neck standing up and my shoulders pushing together. Tighter, and tighter, until slack.

Nails biting into Leon’s arms, I came with a stuttered breath and sharp gasp; the two men quickly fawned over me once they realised, soft and reverent touches all over.

Carlos made obnoxious kissing noises across my face, followed by the click of the lube bottle opening. “You okay?” He asked coolly, “You’ll tell us if you’re not?”

I nodded, catching my breath. I knew they’d go relatively slow, depending on what they would define slow as, but that’s neither here nor there.

“I’m gonna go first, just tell me when you’re ready,”

“Why do you get to go first?” Leon objected. 

“Because I’m bigger—” He stated like a fact; not even mentioning how Leon was already knuckle deep just moments prior.

He was already shucking off his sweatpants as Leon opened his mouth to protest that he didn’t know that, however the words died in his throat and he grumbled ‘nevermind’ instead.

I bit back a comment about the size, and he squirted the lube into his palm. I watched as he rubbed his hands together to warm the cool liquid to a nice room temperature — how polite — then I raised myself, letting him ‘apply it’ to my cunt.

Carlos ran his tip across the slit, hushing quietly. “Deep breath..” He squeezed the fat of my hip reassuringly and notched himself into place.

He guided me down until I was flush against him, my clit twitching against his brown curls, fingers digging into his lower abs. “Oh, fuck–”

In contrast, he was still as stone, eyes screwed shut, letting everything sit and adjust.

“It’s so.. hot ‘nd tight..” He choked on his words for a minute, trying not to let his hips twitch upwards. “You don’t have to do anything, just– just a moment, I’ll do all the work,”

I nodded dumbly like I couldn’t do anything else, my mind wandering just enough to turn my head at Leon; his hand down his pants while he stroked Carlos’ thigh, as if it was some form of encouragement.

After what felt like an eternity, but was realistically just 40 seconds of Carlos repeating some mantra to himself, he began a few testing thrusts. Shallow, but enough to make him grunt little ‘uh, uh, uh’s each time.

I rolled my hips on the downstroke, and after a few moments, he moved his hands from my thighs to around my back, gently pulling me against him.

“Gotta lay like this, so Leon can get in,” he replied tenderly, and it made me question whether or not this was planned beforehand. 

Nonetheless, he continued the gentle rocking, bullying himself a little deeper each time, feeling the stretch. Leon groped at my ass and it almost took me off guard, I only actually flinched when I felt him probe the already very-full hole with his middle finger.

Somehow, by the grace of God, he managed to fit one, then two. He worked it like that for a moment, crudely manhandling my cunt to make room for himself. I mewled out when it reached three, partially headbutting Carlos in the process. He kissed the side of my head as a soothing motion while I rocked my hips back.

“Mhfm– Leon, c’mon, I need more..”

His free hand fumbled for a moment, reaching for the lube and letting the lid click open again. He poured a generous amount of lube over everything, the cold shooting up my spine and making Carlos’ balls tighten.

There was an almost sickly ‘pop’ sound when he pulled his fingers out, using the warm wetness to coat himself instead of ice cold lube.

Leon straddled Carlos’ thighs as he pressed the blunt end of his tip against the taut entrance. Carlos shifts his position, lifting me slightly and giving Leon space to push in; it took a second of resilience before I choked out a noise at the sudden pop.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Carlos comforted quietly as Leon got his bearings, trying to slowly sink in but it came across more like ‘bullying his cock into me like trying to fit into jeans that don’t fit you anymore and you just can’t let go—’

And then Leon was cruel, maybe lost in his own thoughts, he moved his hips a few times while Carlos laid still and let him; then he pulled all the way out, just to push back in to feel that tight ‘pop’ of being sucked in, over and over. I buried my head into the crook of Carlos’ neck, letting him hush quiet reassurances.

He eventually settled, sinking back in and laying down across my back, trapping me there — Leon’s arms supported his weight while Carlos held me tight across his chest — the stillness heavy in the air as they let me breathe, “Alright?” Leon whispered.

“Mhm, need a second..”

I squirmed, all fidgety, and no amount of being held into place could stop it, my mind just repeating full, full, so full that I can’t think of anything but how full I am—

Admittedly, his grip was restricting me from moving myself as much as I wanted, a soothing touch down my spine and across my side. It went from restless squirming to adjusting, shifting to get comfortable while impaled by both of them; a task that was much harder than it sounded. I kept pushing myself back as much as I could, letting out quiet little gasps as I tried to take more, more, more...

“Okay,” I mumbled out, all breathy and needy. “You can go now..”

Leon moved first, and on the downstroke, Carlos pulled back. They moved like an old-time handcar where you’d need teamwork to be this out of sync. I couldn’t tell what would be worse, moving at the same time so I’d feel twice as empty, or just like this where I’m only ever half-full.

Either way, I’m sure there’s a saying about not every struggle is necessarily a bad one, right?

A teary eyed mess, moaning and squirming against their thrusts like I was unsure if I was trying to get away or get closer.

“Talk to me, bebe,” Carlos crooned, “is this what you wanted?”

I’m not actually sure what I expected to happen but somehow, this is exactly what I wanted. It might not have been what I had in mind when I wanted them to share, but who am I to complain?

“Are those good tears, pretty? Are you happy?”

“Feels good– feels full.”

“Mhm, full of our love for you.”

Carlos can feel the bulge of my stomach digging into his own, and Leon is trying to ignore the way it feels to drag his cock against Carlos’, probably with reciprocated effort.

Leon pouted like a child, huffing to himself. “Not gonna ask how I am?”

“Aww,” he mocked, “and how are you, baby?”

He knew if he made any sort of comment about how he’s getting tired, he’d never hear the end of it from Carlos; he could hear it now, something akin to ‘you need the right trainer,’ and snide comments about not doing enough cardio.. Well, this is a good way to start doing it regularly.

“—I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t think I can hold it.”

“I don’t blame you,” was the unexpected yet welcome response when he had already braced himself for teasing, “Fuck, this is hot, right?”

Leon agreed mindlessly, not really thinking too much except for trying to stop himself from cumming. “Yeah, fuck, it’s... she feels.. and you feel—”

He shifted his weight to one arm so he could use his free one to feel where we’re all connected. It was sloppy with the mix of wetness and lube, his two fingers prodding around to wipe up some of the mess.

“Taste,” Leon shifted the conversation,

He pushed his two fingers past Carlos’ lips, just between the second and third knuckle, letting his tongue lap at it though it could’ve passed more as him sucking off Leon’s fingers.

It wasn’t really helping anyone, not Carlos, not Leon, and not me. This felt like divine punishment in some way. He pulled his fingers back, leaving the other slack-jawed.

Carlos leaned forward just enough for Leon to get the hint, meeting him in the middle. Leon shifts again, his hand grabbing Carlos’ waist as support as they sandwiched me into place, squishing me between their bodies, further robbing me of any attempts to move.

Wide eyed with awe as I watched them kiss just inches from my face, wedged right in the middle with both of them buried inside of me, it was erotic— it was filthy. Trying to ignore the smck-smck-smck sounds of them making out while they rocked into me, blush creeping up my neck and ears as they groan about sharing the taste of me.

That’s when it was too much, eyes screwed shut, I tried to spasm and shake but Carlos held me still. I choked out whimpers and curses, muffled by the echo-chamber of being pinned between them, cunt twitching around them as if it could get even more impossibly tighter.

I opened my mouth to speak, say anything, comment on what was happening but the words died in my throat. Leon mutters to himself, practically chanting against Carlos’ mouth. “I’m gonna cum,” repeating it over and over like a warning.

He got more sloppy with his thrusts, more desperate and trying to find that edge. It would’ve been nice if he warned me about his plans to cum considering I was the one he was six and a half inches deep into.

It’s like Carlos recognised that, his head nodding slightly towards me, a quiet ‘who’s really in charge’, despite how much it didn’t feel like it; all powerless between them.

“Please–” he gasped like a child remembering his table manners. I watched him nod, short and jerky as he gasped and whimpered like he was fighting for his words. “Is it okay if I–? Inside? Let me..”

Before I could really answer, he was already gone.

He buried his head into the crook of my neck, mine buried into the crook of Carlos’. Leon’s hips stuttered into place. “Fuuck, that’s it,” he whimpered, and I felt the warmth spread through me. Carlos could probably feel it too, evident by the way his thrusts sped up, or maybe it was just to make up for Leon stopping.

Leon pushed himself up to stand upright, giving me room to breathe, head lolled back as he panted for air, slowly just slipping out... feeling it ooze, but it just helped Carlos move more freely.

“Rookie cop can’t last long, huh?” Carlos was more than a little patronising about it, making Leon huff. “We’re gonna have to work on that.” He’d heard it a million times before, some comment about how Carlos should be his trainer or coach or whatever. He already works with half the force, and god knows Leon could use it. 

Maybe dating the instructor could have its perks. He might consider it this time.

Leon was still soft (well, getting there), but that comment got under his skin, it was the one thing Carlos did well. So he slowly pushed himself back in, wincing at the overstimulation, whimpering and trying to keep me stuffed full. It.. Kind of worked? Probably not to the extent he wanted.

He moved, or at least, he tried to; it was slow and had no pattern to it. Just kind of pathetically jamming his dick back in and hoping he’d get hard again. However, it did give Carlos the opportunity to move more insistently instead of carefully measuring his movements with Leons.

“Aww, do you need a break?” Carlos crooned at the stammered whimpers. “Is it too much for you, old man?”

“Fuck off. It’s four months.” But he relented, knowing it was too much, that didn’t stop him from still hesitating to pull away. All it did was amuse Carlos, he knew he was right — they both knew it. Leon had poor impulse control, he was a cop after all.

“C’mon, be a good boy and do something useful instead of being a limp dick, Kennedy.”

Leon scoffed and pulled away. Despite coming to an agreement of sorts, the petty arguments weren’t going to end any time soon. It was still a competition, now it just had less devastating losses and far more entertaining wins.

So he got up, almost stumbling, stiff-jointed like a newborn deer from the way his knees ached, and walked like a ghost to the bathroom, the distant sound of water running.

“Bebe, you plan to do this a lot, or do you like picking favourites?” Carlos mused, shifting my position to be more centered on his chest and more loosely embraced by his big arms. “Going to have to get a bigger bed– fuck, one that fits all 3 of us,”

“So mean to him,” I gasped, shifting my own position to get him right there; “I think you secretly like him as much as you like me,”

“As much as I like you?” He snorted. “Oh, I like him but not that much.”

He helped me move my hips now that I was more ‘riding him’ and less ‘being fucked in half by 2 dicks until I’m sloppy and stretched’, his arms still moving across my back, waist, hips, ass, thighs—

“Don’t let him know I said that..” He murmured, a tender kiss to the side of my neck.

“Of course not,”

My knees were starting to ache and my cunt wasn’t much better, yet I was still chasing another orgasm despite how distant it felt.. And I suppose letting Carlos cum was the right thing to do. 

“Greedy, greedy girl.” God, was this man a mind-reader? “You were so gorgeous, you know? Like you were made to be shared.” I preened, letting him control the pace of my hips, a mix of rolling me back and forth, and up and down, like some fucking Street Fighter combo. 

Leon came back shortly thereafter, he stood for a moment, fresh pyjamas draped low on his hips, a bottle of water and a wet rag. He just watched, then stalked closer and slid behind me.

“He’s right,” Leon muttered, moving my hair from my neck, kissing me there, then snaking his arm around my waist to pinch my clit. 

I yelped at the sudden pinch, before he soothed it with soft circles. “About time you both realised it.”

Leon brought a damp rag, running it over my body, starting from my forehead, across my sore joints, so adoring and kind. Carlos hummed in approval, still kissing at my neck and murmuring sweet words for just me to hear, admittedly making Leon feel a little left out.

“You’ve done so well, bebe, just tell me when you’re close,”

I nodded, hands taking purchase on his chest to help him get there, moving my hips with him while Leon rubbed small near-frantic circles. It’d already been a long night, and I could tell by the way his cock was twitching that he didn’t have much longer.

He’d wait. I could be cruel and make him wait. He would do it too.

The air was filled with quiet sounds and loud sounds of him fucking me through cum, lube, more cum as lube, it was all over my thighs and all over his like a fucking slip‘n’slide. His hips jerked up to fuck into me, making the plap-plap-plap even more grotesque, instead of moving me left-right-whatever, he just helped me bounce into his lap.

It was a dull pleasure that thrummed through me from how abused it was from before, paired with Leon’s adamant attention to my clit. The only downside was that it felt like you're chasing a sneeze. Too slippery to feel as good, only staying that low thrum that vibrated through my body, but not enough to make me shudder 

“I can’t cum,” I choked out at the realisation, too wet to feel the friction, too sore, too stretched, too much of everything, good or bad.

“You’re right there,” Leon soothed, not sure what else he could do to help. “He’s good at being told what to do, just boss him around..”

“S’right there, but I can’t—”

Carlos was frustrated at that, eyebrows knitting in effort, and he was close, so close. “Fuck, fuck, fuuck, come on,” he begged, groaning as he chased his finish. “We can do something else, huh? This isn’t working, we can try something else..” He was a problem solver, but it had already been too much. Leon carefully let go of me, a soothing hand on the small of my back as he moved to support Carlos instead.

“Carlos, breathe,” he inhaled sharply and let Leon talk. “Let’s try something else.”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do,” he snapped, wound tight and ready to cum. “I don’t need to be ordered around by you.” It was hostile like a dog with food aggression, watching another dog eat just fine while he’s being starved of feeling my cunt milk him dry.

I was restless, my shoulders rolling as I fought with the ache between my legs. My hands were tentative and slow, brushing the sticky strands of hair from his damp forehead, no doubt every crease and joint in his body felt as gross as I did. “S’okay..” I crooned, all raspy from effort.

“Tell me, bebe, I want to hear you say it.” He squeezed the fat of my hip, cock pressing insistently against that spot. It made me shiver anyway, even if it couldn’t get me there. “I’ll make it good for you, just.. God, don’t be mad at me,” He practically whined out, hips jerking as a relentless attempt to chase.

“Not mad,” I brushed my nose against his as he shifted his position, hitting deeper. “Cum in me.” I whispered tenderly, feeling his body tighten, making me repeat it like a mantra.

He’s panting, shuddering, cumming; “Fuckk, don’t– don’t fucking say that,” then gasping for air. It ripped through him like a bolt of lightning, his knees jerking together and his iron grip keeping me flush for a moment.

It takes a long silence of ragged breaths, and I felt ready to collapse into tears, when he rolled me off of him gently. The combination of their cum oozed out with his exit, leaving Leon to inch closer with the wet rag.

I flinched at the cold when the hand towel started to wipe around my thighs, the stickiest and most uncomfortable part, but it felt soothing to be cleaned up despite the burning sensitivity. 

I choked out a noise somewhere between tired and needy, letting them cater to me like a princess; fluffing my pillows and lying me back, the cool rag cleaning up the sticky mess, easing my knees, making them creak into place, as they stretched out my legs.

Leon moves first, pressing kisses up my calf and to my thigh. Carlos is staggered for a moment, then follows on the opposite leg. I tensed when he paused at the apex. 

“How’s this?” Leon asked, reverent and thoughtful. “Do you think you can cum from this?”

I nodded, fingers threading through his blonde locks. He was so close, I could feel his soft breath. Before Leon could close the gap, Carlos shifted closer too, meeting him in the middle.

“Is this okay?” Carlos spoke quietly, nestling into his spot beside Leon. “Will this do?”

So attentive and worshipful, it reminded me why I even considered having two boyfriends in the first place. Yeah, it was double the work, but it was triple the reward. 

Leon pressed his tongue flat against the dull ache, making me shudder. Jesus fucking Christ, he was looking utterly sinful, lapping up the mixture of cum between us.

Leon’s eyes fluttered— hell, they rolled back in his damn skull. It took him a whole 10 seconds before his arms were wrapping around the underside of my thighs and pulling me to his face, licking in with a low groan.

Carlos shoved like a petulant child, pressing his own nose against my clit and making room, slotting himself like he belonged there. 

That’s how confidence works, walk in like you should be there and no one really questions you, so Leon moved, it was either that or he was too cum-drunk to think about it.. 

My other hand snaked through Carlos’ knotted hair, basically holding them both to my pussy as they both huffed and puffed against my abused hole— groaning into it like fucking pornstars.

“S’not as good as being full of cock, but we’ll learn..” He nearly pleaded like he needed some sort of forgiveness. “We’ll be better next time, so this doesn’t happen..” 

“I dunno, I kinda like it,” Leon retorted, drinking in the bitter, yet sweet combination, robbing the flavour from Carlos.

They both continued to eat every ounce of me that they were given; my hips grinding into me just as pathetically. They licked and kissed, sloppy and open mouthed, tongues collecting the essence eagerly.

It didn’t take long for them to be practically making out on my cunt, and with it. My hands in their hair guided them back to my clit when I felt particularly ignored, but they somehow were in a mix between being focused on the task at hand, and being completely gone with lust.

Leon was tired, spent from work as a civil servant, just to come home and be.. ahem.. a different kind of servant. Carlos, the more fit of the two, felt it begin to ebb away.

However, they persevered.

Carlos bumped shoulders with Leon, almost to shove him out of the way, though he protested. “Let me make her cum,” he grunted near demandingly, “you already did– twice.”

“..Just get better then..” Leon replied snidely, not too keen on wanting to move either.

Their argument dwindled to a low muffle, tongues too busy to keep fighting, and here I’d say ‘my legs wrapped around their heads’ but it was a little hard to do that when they were both pinning down a leg each just so they could fit, so it was met with a meek attempt instead.

Carlos slid his calloused fingers into the slack hole, crooking them to hit that spot, making me arch my back and push him closer, “I want you.”

“S’not gonna work like that—”

My vision flashed white when I realised he was using my cunt like a bowling ball, digging his fingers in for leverage to pull me closer to their mouths instead of akin to Leon’s grip on my thighs, you know, like a sane person.

“Oh–! Fuck me, wait–”

Then.. White. Everything is white. Gasping ‘unh–unh–ah—!’, back bowing off the mattress and trying not to thrash my torso like a fish out of water. I felt like I was on fire and trying to squirm away from the feeling, but I used all my willpower to stay still.

I was scrambling for purchase on something that wouldn’t pull a chunk of hair out of their heads, fingers gripping the bedding like I could rip a hole through them with my nails, and Leon would probably protest if I destroyed his only sheets.

So much at once, my body tight and screaming at the feeling of another orgasm wracking through my body, and then soft, limp and lightheaded, the pull of sleep trying to make me succumb when all I could feel was exhaustion.

Leon pulled away first, then Carlos crawled up my body, shifting how I was lying. All curled up like a dead spider, he forced me to relax. 

“In, one.. two.. three.. And out..” Carlos crooned softly, taking a deep breath before an audible exhale on the ‘out’,

Leon’s faint footsteps echoed around the dim room, he took the bottle of water — previously abandoned on the bedside table — and gently slid it into my hand with the insistence of ‘hydration is important, blah blah blah,’

I followed Carlos’ breathing techniques, feeling my pulse return to normal. I was tired, worn, and whatever the polite term for ‘came my brains out’ was, I let my eyes flutter shut as Carlos untangled my limbs into a comfortable position.

His touch was particularly gentle, and he laid carefully by my side like I was made of glass. Leon returned with uneven footsteps like he had a limp. 

“How did you get fucked so hard that you can’t walk?”

Leon didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, just scrunched his nose and jutted his head as mock ‘ha-ha’; the wet cloth from before was now fresh and damp, and cool to the touch.

Tenderly, he started wiping across my joints and sweaty spots, same as before. Cleaning up the mess between my thighs, and it was like a metaphorical weight had been lifted to feel clean after such an intense moment.

He knew he should go rinse the cloth, but that was a later problem, and now he was focused on wiping Carlos’ torso, backs of his knees, his cock—

Carlos swatted his hand away. “So you can be useful?” He joked lightly, making the other man bristle.

Leon continued to clean up Carlos as an act of care, or love if you squint, while Carlos teased. God, they rub off on each other to the point it was sickening.

Leon, all puppy eyed, tossed the rag to the side, lost somewhere to get all mildew-y, “he’s so mean to me,” he playfully pouted, tugging up the blankets and curling into my side just opposite from Carlos.

“And you’re an instigator,” Carlos retorted quickly, only to be met with a sulky whine, all playful and teasing but nonetheless digging under Carlos’ skin.

“And you’re meannnn,” the syllables dragged out like a little brother crying just so mom would scold him.

I briefly closed my eyes, body thrumming with the need to just sleep it off. I drank the previously offered water slowly, watching them bicker, like any second the air would ring out with ‘he’s touching me! he’s touching me!’, though maybe in this context it’d be far less grating.