vee.ᐟ

the arena lights were their regular, beaming, fluorescent white they always were.

victor stood near the sideline during warmups, hands tucked into the deep sleeves of his hoodie as if that would make him smaller somehow. the floor gleamed under the overhead lights, polished so smooth it reflected the players moving across it in flashes of orange, blue, black, and white. a big basketball was in the center of the court in its usual setup at madison square garden.

oppositely, jeremy was laughing near the baseline. it was hard to forget that exact pitch of a laugh. he had a quick sprint down the court,and the bright echo of his voice cutting through the noise like it belonged there. victor watched for a second too long before looking away, jaw tight, breath slow and uneven.

some things stayed with you longer than they should, for victor, the cigarettes had been one of them. but jeremy had been another.

the smell always came back first; tobacco, cold night air, the faint sweetness of way-too-expensive champagne still lingering on the teams breath.

it had been late, later than any of them should have been awake.

the hotel hallway outside their room had been loud for hours, teammates drifting in and out, music echoing from somewhere down the floor. someone had dragged a speaker into the elevator earlier, blasting music loud enough to make the walls vibrate. champagne bottles had appeared from nowhere, passed around until the carpet was sticky and everyone’s voices were louder than usual.

it wasn’t even a championship celebration, just a celebration after a big win, the kind the league liked to make a show out of. cameras earlier in the night, handshakes, reporters asking the same questions over and over. after that, the team had spilled back into the hotel.

victor remembered sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was sharing, long and slender legs stretched out, still half-dressed from the event. the lights were dim, the television playing some sports recap neither of them were actually watching.

his roommate for the night, jeremy, had been pacing.

he was half-drunk, half-restless, champagne bottle hanging loose in his hand. his tie was already gone, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the chain resting against his collarbone. he kept laughing at nothing in particular, that same bright laugh that carried across a room like it was meant to be heard.

“too loud in here,” jeremy had muttered eventually, glancing toward the balcony door.

the night air outside had been cool, the city stretching out below them in quiet flashes of light. traffic somewhere far beneath the hotel, the distant hum of the city below that never really stopped for anything.

jeremy leaned against the railing first, victor stood beside him a moment later, seeming taller even in the dark, shoulders brushing the glass door behind them.

the cigarette came from the inside pocket of victor’s jacket, the habit he never talked about.

he tapped the box lightly against his palm before sliding one out, the motion familiar enough that he barely thought about it. the lighter flicked once, the small flame catching the end in a quiet glow. for a moment, jeremy just watched him.

“didn’t know you smoked,” he said, voice low and hoarse with the leftover warmth of champagne.

victor shrugged, taking a slow drag. the smoke curled up into the cold air above them, “sometimes.”

jeremy held out his hand, “give me a bump.”

victor hesitated for half a second before passing it over. jeremy brought it to his lips like he had done it before, but the moment the smoke hit his lungs he coughed, shoulders shaking as he leaned forward over the railing. the sound bounced softly into the night.

victor chuckled, “not for you,” he said.

jeremy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still grinning. “shut up.”

he took another drag anyway, stubborn enough to try again. this time he didn’t cough as badly. the tip of the cigarette glowed orange between his fingers, lighting up the sharp edge of his smile. they stood there for a while after that.

now, there were no cameras, no teammate, just the city humming below them and the faint smell of smoke drifting between their shoulders.

jeremy talked about nothing in particular, the game earlier, a stupid play someone had made in the third quarter, the way the champagne tasted terrible but everyone kept drinking it anyway.

victor mostly listened, he always did when it was jermey talking.

the moment itself felt small while it was happening, the kind of moment that didn’t seem important at the time. it was just two teammates on a balcony, sharing a cigarette they probably shouldn’t have been smoking for the sake of preserving their precious lungs, until jeremy turned his head.

he was close enough now that victor could see the faint flush in his cheeks from the alcohol, the way his dyed curls had fallen slightly out of place, the laugh was gone from his face, replaced by something quieter.

“you’re staring,” jeremy said softly.

victor blinked because he hadn’t realized he was. the cigarette burned low between jeremy’s fingers. and for a second, neither of them moved. then jeremy leaned forward.

it wasn’t dramatic, just a sudden shift of weight, the small space between them disappearing in one careless motion. his mouth brushed victor’s first like he wasn’t even sure he meant to do it.

the taste of smoke was still there, champagne too, sweet and sharp at the same time. victor froze for half a second before the instinct to pull away flickered through his mind. but, he didn’t. jeremy’s hand came up instead, gripping lightly at the front of victor’s shirt like he needed something to steady himself. the kiss deepened without either of them really deciding it would.

the city lights blinked below them like nothing unusual was happening at all. when they finally pulled apart, the cigarette had burned almost all the way down. jeremy laughed again, softer this time. like he wasn’t sure what had just happened either.

victor remembered the glow of the ember falling over the railing into the dark, he remembered the smell of smoke in jeremy’s hair, he remembered the quiet way neither of them said a word about it when they went back inside.

jordan's hand was warm, even through the sleeves. he didn’t say anything when he reached across the console, just rested his fingers on the side of your knee like he forgot how to be still. the joint was gone by now, burnt to ash in the cupholder with the other clips. outside, the town of milwaukee was dark and frozen, the windows fogged with breath and the strong smell of weed.

he looked over at you with that dumb smile. the one that barely showed teeth. the one that meant he was too high to say what he was really thinking. “you know you’re my girl, right?” he said softly. it was sincere, like it wasn't just the drugs talking through him.

you didn’t answer at first. just looked at him, watched the way the streetlight carved his cheek in gold. he wasn’t serious, not all the way. jordan said things like that all the time, and you never knew if it was because he meant them or because he wanted you to.

you nodded anyway. his smile got lazy, heavier. and when he leaned across the seat to your lips, you leaned too.

the kiss was warm and hazy. not perfect, but not careless. he kissed you like he liked the way your lips moved, as if he was listening with his mouth. his fingers slid up under the edge of your jacket, grazing skin in a way that made your stomach tighten. he always touched you like that. he didn’t want to ask permission out loud but was still giving you the chance to say no. you didn’t say no, you never did.

the car was too small for the way your body curled into his. he tasted like weed and cinnamon gum and something syrupy that must’ve been on your lip gloss. he kissed you harder when you grabbed the side of his hoodie. he let out a soft breath when your thigh pressed against his.

“when i make it,” he said against your mouth, “you better still answer when i call.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him. “i will,” you whispered with a grin.

in the moment, you meant it.

the apartment smelled like too many things. cheap michigan weed, axe body spray, leftover takeout. the kind of scent that got into your hair, clung to the folds of your hoodie, made your eyes sting if the windows stayed shut too long. it was hard to get rid of it, but you were scrubbing it from the kitchen counters until your fingertips were red.

jordan was on the couch again, hoodie half off to reveal his bare stomach, one sock, a lighter flicking between his fingers like he was bored of everything. his knee bounced absentmindedly, the tv was on low playing something he didn't even remember putting on.

“jordan,” you said from the kitchen doorway, voice sharper than you meant it to be. “can you not smoke in here? the windows aren't even open..”

he didn’t look at you. just hummed, the joint dangling from his lips. he took a deep inhale, letting the ash dip into the rolling tray on the coffee table.

“what if my mom came over?” you finally snapped, letting your precense linger in the space between the kitchen and the living room.

“she won’t,” he muttered around the joint, puff of smoke escaping with his words. his eyes were fixated on the tv still.

“you don’t know that.”

“she don’t like me anyway.”

“that’s not the point.”

he finally turned his head, eyes red, lips parted like he had a comeback ready but wasn’t sure it was worth saying. he took the joint out of his mouth, licking his lips before he finally spoke. “what’s the point then?”

“the point is this isn’t a trap house,” you snapped, arms crossed now. the rag was still wet and strong with product, offsetting the aroma in the room. “and you’re not some burnout who peaked at seventeen.”

his face shifted now. it was slow, subtle. like you hit something he wasn’t expecting. his jaw shifted, goatee following the movements. “you think that’s what i am?”

“no, but sometimes you act like it.”

silence dropped between you both, hot and loud. the joint burned out on the table beside him, smoke curling into the ceiling fan that wasn’t spinning.

he leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice low now. “you know how many people in this city are waiting for me to fuck up?”

“so don’t give them the satisfaction.”

he laughed once, bitterly, not amused.

“it’s easy for you to say. you’re not the one everyone’s watching.”

“i am watching you,” you said, stepping closer. “i’ve been watching you. i’ve seen every time you skip a workout to get high. every time you blow off your brother, your coach, your trainer. you think this little hustle’s getting you by, but it’s getting you stuck.”

his hands fidgeted in his lap. he always did that when he was losing the argument.

“i’m not stuck,” he said. “i’m just not rushing. scouts know who i am. they’re watching my tapes. i just-”

“you’re scared.”

he stood up fast, shoulders tense, voice rising. his expressive eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not scared.” he half murmurred, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“yes, you are.”

he got up, and you stared at him, chest tight. he was taller now, broader. the same boy who once cried in your lap when he had a bad trip, now couldn’t look you in the eye without flinching. he blinked at you, letting your words fill the air. something flickered in his expression, just for a second. nobody moved, just silence. stale air, the hum of the tv filling in the cracks.

“you still love me?” he asked, quieter.

you didn’t answer him at first, not with words.

something about the way he was looking at you. his bloodshot eyes, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, mouth a little parted like he was still waiting to be forgiven for things he hadn’t admitted to yet, it broke something in you. maybe it was the way the question sat there between you both, too real, too naked, like he’d only asked it because he already knew the answer and wanted to hear it sting.

you crossed the space first. just a step, maybe two. he didn’t move, but his eyes followed you. you could feel his breath shift. the air was thick with it, with the way neither of you knew how to hold the silence without making it worse.

“jordan,” you whispered, like his name was the only soft thing left in the room.

his hand moved first, not fast, but firm, fingers curling around the side of your jaw. his touch was rough with nerves, warm from the couch heat, and it grounded you just long enough to kiss him back. his mouth met yours like it needed somewhere to go. lips open, breath hot, the kind of kiss that left no space between gasping and taking. your hands tangled in his hoodie, pulling him closer, his other hand sliding down your side until it caught at your hip. he kissed like he wanted to forget what you just said. and you let him.

his tongue dragged slow, then faster, messy, like he wasn’t sure what rhythm to fall into but he didn’t want to stop long enough to figure it out. your teeth clinked once, awkward, and you both paused, breathing hard, foreheads touching.

his body pushed you gently back, and suddenly you were against the arm of the couch, knees bent, breath caught in your throat. his hand slid under your thigh and pulled it around his waist, his lips still brushing yours between words he wasn’t saying.

the kiss slowed again. softer now. quieter, like a lie you both needed to believe in, just for tonight.

it was junior year now. the frat house was already full. not shoulder to shoulder, but enough bodies to make the walls hum. you didn’t know what frat this was, or who was hosting it. probably some older guy from the rugby team, or a grad student with leftover student loans and an aux cord. but someone said jordan might be around, and you’d already said you didn’t care, twice, out loud, and still came.

he was on the couch when you found him. you’d done a lap, grabbed a drink, smiled at someone you used to hook up with, but when your eyes finally landed on the corner by the window, there he was. jordan anthony poole.

his hoodie was pulled over his head, but the brand new chain peeked out anyway. he looked looser than you remembered, like he took up more space now without meaning to. someone handed him a blunt and he shook his head, laughing like he didn’t need it tonight.

you didn’t move, just stood against the opposite wall, drink in your hand, watching the way his fingers flexed over the cup. he looked up and saw you. he didn’t flinch, just blinked like he wasn’t sure if you were real or not.

“damn,” he said, walking toward you with that slow, uneven swagger. “i thought you moved to switzerland or something.”

“just up the hill,” you said.

he smiled with that little half-smirk you used to kiss off his face.

“still feel like you left,” he said.

“you were the one who left.”

“i had to. they wanted me.”

silence again. the music changed to a bass line you didn’t recognize.

“so how’s golden state?” you asked, eyes scanning him.

he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “fast, loud. everyone’s bigger than you think. everyone’s better. i thought i was gonna be the flashy one, but nah. they got all-stars in every corner.”

“and you?”

he met your eyes. “still figuring out where i fit.”

you didn’t say anything, just sipped your drink.

“the first week, i slept on the couch of some assistant coach,” he said, like he had to confess it. “i didn’t even know how to order room service. i called my mom every night, then stopped when she started crying on the phone.”

“you could’ve called me,” you said. it came out too easy.

he stared, the space between you closed by something unspoken.

“yeah,” he said quietly. “i know.”

someone bumped past him. a laugh echoed from the hallway. neither of you looked away.

“you remember how you used to,” he paused, eyes flicking to your mouth. “used to tuck your feet under you on the passenger seat? i still think about that. shit like that sticks.”

you smiled, barely.

“you’re drunk,” you said.

“not really, or not enough.” he sipped again, then looked down at his cup. “you were like, i don’t know. like a little copilot or something. kept me from crashing too hard.”

your breath caught a little.

“pilot jones,” he said suddenly, joking. your smile disappeared, just for a second. he noticed and his smirk faded with it.

“that was dumb. i didn’t mean it like-”

“i know how you meant it,” you said softly.

he looked at you then, like really looked. and for a second, you weren’t at some college party, and he wasn’t some almost-famous kid with a guaranteed contract.

you were just two people standing in the middle of a house that smelled like beer and regret, trying to remember how it felt to fit inside each other’s world.

he reached out, hand attempting to grab at you. your wrist, your waist, anything to ground himself back to you. but you stepped back first.

“see you around, poole.”

the air in the room didn’t move, and neither did they. for a moment, all you could hear was the click of a clock and the champagne fizz in someone’s glass. no one spoke, but both boys were looking at you like they were waiting for you to laugh, to say you were joking. to break the tension with some easier dare. you didn’t.

you just tilted your head, lashes low, legs still tucked under you on the hotel bed. “you heard me.”

luka was the first to move.

he didn’t lunge, didn’t smirk, didn’t make a show of it. he just leaned over slowly, one knee lifting onto the mattress. his gaze didn’t leave austin’s, not even when their mouths were a breath apart. you expected hesitation, maybe a sarcastic comment, but austin didn’t pull away.

when they kissed, it was slower than you imagined. it was a test, not a performance. austin’s hand found luka’s jaw first, thumb dragging up the side of his face like he was trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. his thumbs grazed over the prickly stubble, making luka reply by leaning in harder, like he wasn’t going to let austin get the upper hand. it wasn’t soft or rough, instead it was curious. heat blooming slow, mouths opening just enough to pull a gasp from one of them.

you didn’t breathe, at least not for the first few seconds. you just watched in silence. the kiss deepened before either of them spoke. you could hear the wet, rhythmic, the quiet smack of lips parting and returning. the tiny stutter of breath when austin tilted his head slightly, teeth clinking against luka’s with a soft, startled clack. they paused, barely, a moment of shocked laughter caught in their throats, but neither pulled back. instead luka hummed low in his chest, almost a growl, and pulled austin closer by the wrist.

their bodies shifted with it. austin moved into him, the mattress dipping slightly under the weight of their knees. the kiss wasn’t gentle anymore, but it wasn’t angry either. it was messy, like they were learning how to kiss for the first time. mouths opening wider, breath getting heavier. the kind of kiss that left their lips sticky, red. one of them made a sound, half moan, half exhale, and it pushed the other closer. it sounded like a gasp swallowed down too late, like a noise they didn’t mean to let out.

teeth scraped again, austin’s probably. he bit down on luka’s bottom lip, just for a second, and it made luka pull back to catch his breath. the sound that came with it wasn’t loud, just a low gasp, like he hadn’t expected it to feel like that. their chests barely touched, but the air between them was hot. you could feel it from where you sat.

austin was smirking now, just a little. his lips shiny, curved at the corner. luka wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but his eyes were still locked on austin’s like the dare hadn’t ended. they both looked at you then, like they remembered you were the reason any of this happened.

“that good enough for you?” austin asked, voice scratchy, lips kissed raw.

you didn’t answer right away, your heart was beating too loud for that. they were still so close, both of them half on the bed now. you felt the heat off their skin, the champagne-slick haze still settling over all three of you. instead of answering, you leaned in.

austin was the first to move, as if he remembered what you liked about his lips on yours. his mouth met yours before you could even tilt your head, catching your lips in a kiss that was warmer than you'd expected. they were slow, but far from shy. his hand ghosted over your hip, fingers curling at the fabric like he wanted to grab you and pull you in, but didn’t.

you sighed into it, lips parting. his breath caught, and you could feel it against your cheek, the tension in his jaw when he kissed you deeper. it was like he’d thought about this before, like he already knew what your mouth would taste like and he just wanted to be right.

then you felt another hand, larger, rougher, grabbing at your neck. you gasped, austin’s lips still on yours when luka pressed close, brushing his mouth along the edge of your jaw. not kissing yet. just lingering, breathing you in by your prefume. you shivered.

“don’t forget about me,” luka murmured against your skin. his voice low, far from teasing. moreso possessive over something that wasn't either of theirs.

austin’s kiss slowed, then pulled back just slightly, enough to look at luka over your shoulder, he didn’t say a word. as if it was clockwork, luka’s mouth was on yours. it wasn’t careful like austin’s, it was greedy. he kissed you like he was claiming you. tongue sweeping into your mouth with barely a warning, teeth grazing your lower lip, hand coming up to cradle the back of your head so you wouldn’t pull away, as if you would ever think of that.

you melted into the kiss, knees shifting, body folding between theirs without even thinking. austin’s hand found your thigh now, grounding you, while luka kissed you deeper. your fingers tightened in the fabric of luka’s shirt, while your other hand slid up to austin’s chest. you were sandwiched between them. warm hands, soft lips, the heat of it all making your skin flush under your clothes.

when luka finally let you go, breath stuttering, you turned back to austin and he didn’t wait this time. he kissed you again, rougher than before. like he’d been holding back, and now he wasn’t. you moaned into it, quietly, sweetly, and he felt the vibrations travel in his open mouth. he tilted your chin to kiss you harder, like he didn’t want luka’s mouth to be the last one you remembered.

your lips were sore already. your head was foggy, and when you opened your eyes, they were both looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the room. and for a second, maybe you were.

the first button undone wasn’t yours; it was austin’s. your fingers curled in the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his stomach. he shifted to help, arms raised as the fabric slipped over his head and landed somewhere on the carpeted floor. his skin was warm, chest rising and falling shallowly, already pink in the places your touch lingered.

luka followed your lead, brushing your hair from your neck before trailing both hands down your sides, slowly. he caught the hem of your top and tugged it up with a soft sound of approval, knuckles grazing your ribs as he helped you out of it. the fabric clung for a second before falling away, leaving you flushed and breathless in just your bra. his eyes flicked down to your chest, then back to your face.

you reached for luka’s shirt next, tugging it impatiently over his head. he let you, moving close enough that your knees bumped as he helped shrug it off his shoulders. it dropped to the floor like the air had gotten too heavy for it. you were surrounded by bare skin now, hot, smooth, waiting for your touch. four hands met at your back. one of them unhooked your bra, the other palmed your hip, thumb teasing just beneath the waistband of your jeans. you gasped softly, too focused to figure out whose hands were where. they moved like they’d practiced this in their dreams. it was a two-man operation, unhurried but greedy.

when your bra slipped down your arms, someone, maybe austin, brushed the straps from your shoulders with a graze that was more worship than teasing.

“zala deklica,” "beautiful girl," . luka murmured under his breath, half against your neck your hands moved next.

one to austin’s belt, the other to luka’s fly. fumbling, almost frantic. it wasn’t graceful, not with the way their lips kept finding your collarbone, the hollow of your throat, stealing your breath. they didn’t wait for you to finish with them, austin was already dragging your jeans down your hips, luka’s fingers sneaking under the band of your underwear like he didn’t care about sequence.

you could barely keep up, your mouth parting with a shaky exhale as you tugged luka’s waistband lower, hand brushing over the outline of his bulge beneath his briefs. he hissed at the contact, hips twitching toward you.

austin grinned at the sound and leaned in to kiss your shoulder, biting just soft enough to make you gasp. you were half undressed, clinging to two half-naked boys, flushed and breathing hard and already soaked from nothing but mouths and fingers and the warmth of their bodies pressed against yours.

austin kissed down your stomach first, his mouth soft and warm, lingering longer than it needed to like he was memorizing you. luka followed him, slower, trailing just behind, both hands moving to your thighs like he already knew how to part them. they didn’t wait their turn. they shared the space between your legs like they were used to it, alternating without needing to ask, like they’d practiced this in every dream.

austin’s lips brushed over your inner thigh as luka leaned in first, tongue dragging through your clothed folds with slow, greedy intention. his mouth was steady, focused. you gasped, thighs twitching, and austin groaned at the sound, mouthing at the other side of your thigh with an open kiss that turned into a soft bite.

“fuck,” austin murmured, half to himself, half to luka. “she’s already shaking.”

his thumbs dragged higher, catching on the waistband of your panties and pausing just long enough to make you ache. luka didn’t stop his mouth, just moved down slightly, kissing along the edge of the fabric, his breath warm where it hit the damp spot growing beneath his lips.

you felt fingers hook beneath the waistband, both of them. austin on one side, luka on the other, drawing the lace down together like they had every right to. the fabric peeled slow from your skin, catching at your thighs, pooling somewhere around your knees before austin tugged it all the way off and dropped it behind him like it didn’t matter anymore.

luka kissed you first. he parted you with both thumbs and leaned in like he needed it, tongue flattening against your clit with a slow, steady drag that made your back arch. the sound you made was broken and soft, like a thread pulled tight. austin watched with hungry eyes, thumb brushing lazy circles just above your hipbone before leaning in himself, kissing just beneath luka’s mouth, lips hot against the inside of your thigh. you felt their mouths overlapping, breath catching against each other as they took turns, trading places, trading rhythm. luka focused on your clit, his tongue flicking just enough to tease but never let you fall over the edge.

austin slid two fingers between your folds, collecting slick before licking it off, groaning at the taste like it did something to him.

“she’s so wet,” he whispered, voice low and full of heat. “fuck, she tastes good.”

luka hummed against you in agreement, the vibration sending another wave through your core, and your fingers clenched the sheets tight, hips starting to roll into their mouths on instinct they didn't hold back from watching you fall apart. their hands gripping tighter, mouths sloppier, tongues trading places again like they were competing to see who could ruin you first.

your breath came in shaky whimpers, throat raw from how much you were gasping. everything felt tight and coiled. your hips lifted without meaning to, only for luka’s hand to press you back down again, fingers splayed just above your mound like he wanted to feel every twitch, every desperate clench.

“stay still,” luka murmured, voice low against your skin, lips not even leaving you as he spoke. “be good and take it.”

his tongue flattened again, licking you from dripping entrance to throbbing clit in one long, slow stripe that made your knees jerk open wider. austin’s teeth grazed the inside of your thigh, kissing the mark after like he didn’t want to stop touching you for even a second. he was mouthing at your skin like it was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, fingers curled loosely around your hip, just watching luka ruin you like it was a show made for him alone.

“fuck, baby,” austin groaned, tilting his head just enough to kiss luka’s shoulder, his voice spilling over with something darker. “you’re falling apart. feels good, doesn’t it? having both of us here. you were fuckin’ made for it.”

you tried to nod, but your body couldn’t keep up. your eyes fluttered, head tilting back as luka’s fingers curled perfectly, fucking into you slow but deep. every drag inside you lit something up, and the flick of his tongue against your clit kept you stuck in that high, suspended and messy and wrecked. you whimpered his name, barely a whisper.

austin was climbing higher now, thumb circling your nipple, breath heavy against your chest. he was watching the way your hips couldn’t stop moving, how luka’s fingers dragged slick sounds out of you like he was playing a song he already knew the end to.

“there it is,” he whispered, forehead pressing to yours. “you’re close. i feel it. you gonna cum, pretty girl? gonna let us feel it?”

your answer came in the form of a choked moan, your whole body tensing, your back arching as the knot finally snapped. you came hard, twitching under them, body soaked and unraveling, your orgasm crashing through you like your body had been begging for it for hours.

luka didn’t stop, neither did austin. their hands held you there, open, thighs parted, slick spreading across both their mouths as they licked you through it. your moans broke into sobs of overstimulation, every nerve lit up and pulsing as they drank it in, like they were starving.

“that’s it,” luka said, lips swollen and wet, voice warm like a thread pulled through you. “so fuckin’ pretty like this.” austin kissed your cheek, then your jaw, mouth hot against your ear. “you’re perfect. took it so good, honey."

you barely had time to come down before you were moving again, slipping from the bed with shaky legs and letting your hands guide them back. “sit,” you whispered, and they listened. austin leaned back on his elbows, thighs parted, already hard again. luka sat next to him, chest rising and falling, hand curled loosely around the base of his cock. both of them were flushed, leaking, watching you like they were the ones being undone now.

you settled between them, knees hitting the carpet. the air felt hotter down there, like you were the one in control now, even with your skin still humming from the orgasm they just tore through you. you reached out with both hands, fingers wrapping around their shafts slowly, like you had all the time in the world.

they were warm and heavy, twitching against your palms. you stroked them in tandem, slow at first, thumbs brushing along the slick heads, and watched them shudder.

“you look so pretty like this,” luka murmured, voice husky. “fuck, so pretty.”

you leaned in and licked a stripe up the side of austin’s cock, then turned your head just enough to flick your tongue over luka’s tip. both of them groaned. it was messy, teasing, deliberate. your fingers tightened just slightly, sliding down to stroke them both together, and your breath caught when their cocks brushed together, the soft, wet slide of precum against precum, heads bumping, sensitive and flushed. austin’s hips jerked and luka cursed under his breath, biting his lip.

“god,” austin breathed. “you’re really gonna make us lose it.”

you hummed in response, tongue pressed between their tips like you couldn’t choose. your spit was everywhere now, slicking them up, dripping from your lips as you kissed between them again, licking one, then the other, then both at once, tongues and fingers and need. they were falling apart for you. one of them grabbed your hair. the other gripped your wrist, panting.

“keep going,” luka groaned, barely more than a whisper. “presneto, don’t stop,”

you took them deeper, alternating between mouths and hands, messy and breathless. it was almost overwhelming the way austin’s cock twitched against your tongue, how luka’s hand tightened in your hair when your lips stretched around him. you were soaked again just from the way they sounded, the way they looked down at you like you were holy and filthy all at once.

austin’s voice cracked when your mouth wrapped around him fully, head bobbing slow and deep. “fuck, baby. your mouth,” he hissed between his teeth, hips rising, trying not to thrust too hard.

luka’s fingers replaced yours on austin, stroking him while you moved over to suck him off. it was dizzying, how easy they worked in sync. how you let your tongue drag across luka’s slit next, licking up everything he gave you, spit dripping from your chin, his taste hot and heady on your tongue.

you leaned in again, stroking them both together, mouths open just enough to tease, letting their tips brush again, a wet kiss of precum and spit and shared heat. both of them twitched at the contact, and you knew you had them close. your fingers tightened.

“you wanna cum for me?” you whispered, voice wrecked, lips kiss-swollen. “i want both of you. i want it in my mouth.”

their groans overlapped, deep and desperate. you took luka first, sucking him slow and steady while stroking austin, spit running down your wrist. luka cursed in slavic under his breath again, hips stuttering.

“yes, yes, just like that,” he gasped, voice low and hoarse. “i’m gonna-”

his words broke off as he came, hot and thick, spilling over your tongue. you swallowed, barely a breath before turning to austin, lips messy and shining as you kissed the head of his cock, then took him deep again, greedy.

“shit, baby, fuck,” he moaned, head falling back, fingers tangled in your hair as he pulsed hard in your mouth. you didn’t stop. you took all of it, felt his thighs tense around you, his cock jerking with each wave of release, your mouth full and dripping.

when you finally pulled off, breath heaving, lips ruined, they both stared down at you like they didn’t know how to speak. cum still lingered on your tongue, slick shining down your chin, and you smiled.

the bar was too loud. not club loud, but enough that the bass pressed into your sternum when the door swung open. someone from the team had picked it, probably lebron because of the dim lights, low ceilings, booths packed with bodies slouched into postgame sloppiness. it smelled like sweat and bourbon. the kind of place that let the players unwind without snapping pictures.

you’d almost skipped because you never came to these. not unless it was someone’s birthday or coach was guilt-tripping you into “team bonding". but something in the air tonight pushed you to show up. maybe it was the win, or maybe it was the way luka looked walking off the court, or the way austin hadn’t let your eyes go when he passed your bench. whatever it was, you showed.

your hoodie was traded for a fitted long-sleeve, jeans clinging tighter than usual. you still weren’t dressed for the crowd, but you weren’t trying to be invisible either.

when you entered, a few heads turned. not just from your squad. some of the other guys, younger benchwarmers, staff, raised their drinks. you nodded, sliding into the edge of a booth like it was instinct. you didn’t even get a chance to order.

“what’s your poison?” a voice said from your left.

you turned. austin stood there, slightly damp curls pushed back with his hand, jawline sharp in the bar lighting. there was a glow to him. some from the game, half from the beer already in his system.

you blinked. “not letting me choose?”

he smiled, slow. “trainer’s choice.”

“gin.”

he raised his brows. “neat?”

“surprise me.”

he walked off with that same smug energy he wore on the court, and you turned your head just in time to see luka enter. he didn’t scan the room like austin did. he walked slowly, head ducked, shirt draped over his shoulders again. but when he saw you, he froze, a blink, then a shift. his spine straightened, eyes hooded like he hadn’t expected you here, which only invited him to walk over. you scooted slightly, but he didn’t sit. just leaned against the side of the booth, one hand braced on the wall.

“this seat taken?” he asked, accent curling around the edges.

“depends who’s asking.”

he exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lip. “didn’t think you came to these.”

“i don’t.”

“hm.” he hummed in response.

then austin returned. two drinks in hand. one for you, one for himself. but his eyes flicked up the second he saw luka.

“you good, man?” austin asked, chin tipping toward him like a dare.

“better than you,” luka replied, not moving.

you watched them. your drink stayed untouched.

“can’t you two behave for one night?” you muttered.

austin smirked, setting your glass in front of you. “he started it.”

“did not,” luka said. “you invited her to this.”

austin blinked. “you mad i asked her to hang out?”

“you think you’re the only one who notices her?”

you rolled your eyes, taking a long sip, liquor burning as it passed through your throat. “i’m not a prize.”

“no,” luka said, eyes dragging up your legs, “but some of us like to win.”

a moment passed like a match held to paper. quiet. then burning.

you shook your head. “i’m gonna go say hi to the rookies.”

you slid out from the booth, brushing too close to both of them. neither moved out of your way. you felt their eyes on you as you walked away.

at the bar, the rookies were loose. someone bought tequila, someone else brought up your playlist from the gym. a few tried flirting, but harmlessly. a small joke, a smile, a hand that stayed too long on your back, but never pushed. when luka passed behind you to grab a beer, his hand grazed your waist, definitely not accidental. you turned just in time to see the smugness bloom on his mouth. from across the room, you could feel austin’s gaze spike like he was watching every move.

the rest of the night blurred a little. not in a drunk way, but in that heavy-limbed, slow motion way where everything feels sticky with unsaid things. austin bought you one more drink. luka kept leaning in too close. they both hovered. they both glared. you didn’t choose, not yet.

but when it was time to leave, when the guys started filing out, back to the hotel in groups or in ubers, you stood alone outside, phone in hand, waiting for yours. until luka appeared at your side, then austin. neither of them said a word. just stood there, each half a step closer than the other. you flourished in the silence, letting it linger until your ride pulled up. you opened the door, turned back to them, expression unreadable.

“both of you coming?” you asked.

they didn’t hesitate to climb right in.

the uber smelled like vanilla and expensive cologne. some sort of air freshener clipped to the vent, still humming cold air into your thighs through your jeans. you were sandwiched in the middle of the two boys. luka on your left, austin on the right. it started with knees.

luka’s touched yours first. barely, like maybe it was an accident, like maybe the curve of his leg just slipped into yours because of a bump in the road, but he didn’t move it. he just let the heat stay there. your hand twitched in your lap.

then it was fingers. austin reached over to the console, brushed something from your thigh. glitter, maybe. maybe an excuse. his knuckle dragged over your skin too long for it to be casual. you met his eyes for half a second, then quickly looked away. you shifted in your seat. not awayfrom one, not toward another, just enough to make them feel you noticed.

luka’s fingers landed next. featherlight over your lower back, like he was steadying himself on a turn. he leaned in close enough to smell your perfume.

“you cold?” he asked, voice low.

you shook your head, mouth dry.

austin snorted under his breath, like he knew exactly what luka was doing. you just crossed one leg over the other slow enough to let your thigh brush both of theirs. there was no hiding the way luka’s breath hitched, or how austin sat up straighter, like he was ready to pull you into his lap. the tension wasn’t loud like the club was, it was buried under the quiet music, the hum of the road, the lights flashing past the windows.

neither boy moved again, but their hands stayed close. luka’s pinky on your hip. austin’s palm resting on the seat, almost touching yours. you exhaled slowly. bit your lip just to ground yourself. and when you looked forward again, the driver met your eyes in the mirror. he didn’t say anything, just looked away until you both got to the hotel.

your hotel door clicked shut behind you. it was clean and cold and dimly lit by the city glow outside. you’d offered for them to come over offhandedly in the uber, something about having champagne in the fridge. you didn’t think both of them would actually follow.

obviously, they did. neither boy said much as they trailed in behind you. austin walked straight to the window, pulling the curtain half-open to look at the skyline. luka lingered by the door, hands in his pockets, gaze sweeping the room like he was grounding himself.

you kicked your shoes off with a sigh, the postgame buzz still rolling under your skin. your shirt clung a little tighter now, warmed by the body heat and the brush of both of their legs from the ride over. you reached for the hair tie on your wrist, tugging gently at your updo.

“let me.” luka said, stepping forward before you could finish. you hesitated, but your hand dropped.

he moved behind you slowly. his fingers were careful, unwinding the band, combing through the strands with more patience than you expected. you exhaled at the sensation, tilting your head slightly back. his touch was steady, thumbs brushing your scalp.

“you always wear so tight up,” he said quietly.

“easier that way.”

“shame,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

when he stepped back, austin took his place without missing a beat. he crouched to gather your shoes, fingers brushing the side of your ankle as he did. he didn’t look up, just set them gently by the corner.

“gonna stretch out your calves if you keep working in those,” he muttered, you could tell it was his way of pretending this wasn’t intimate.

you turned, finally, and met both of their eyes. neither sat. they just stood there, like two ends of a magnet held inches apart.

“well,” you said, opening the fridge and pulling out a chilled bottle. “we won.”

“barely,” austin said.

“i carried,” luka added.

you rolled your eyes and popped the champagne. the fizz filled the room. you poured three plastic hotel glasses and handed them out, clinking them gently before taking a sip. dry, crisp, not the expensive celebratory kind, but it worked.

“you always got champagne on deck?” austin asked.

“only when i know i’ll deserve it.”

the alcohol worked fast. enough to loosen your spine, make the room warmer. you curled onto the bed, legs folded beneath you. they followed, sitting across from you, one on each side. again, not too close, not too far. tension was back, but softer now. the kind that hummed.

“truth or dare?” you said suddenly, just to see what they’d do.

austin snorted. “what are we, in high school?”

“scared?”

he raised a brow. “never.”

you turned to luka. “you in?”

he nodded slowly, unsure of what you had in mind.

you smirked. took another sip. “truth or dare, luka.”

he didn’t blink. “truth.”

“do you like watching me work?” you asked, letting the words hang.

he tilted his head. “too much.”

austin snorted again, louder this time. “your turn, doncic.”

luka’s eyes slid toward him. “truth or dare?”

austin leaned back on his elbows. “dare.”

luka didn’t hesitate, “touch her.”

you blinked, but didn’t move. austin’s hand lifted, he reached for your wrist, then slid two fingers gently along the inside of it, tracing the vein. then down to your palm, across your knuckles. you felt your breath hitch. when he was done with whatever knee-buckling touch that was, he let go without a word. you swallowed hard, trying not to show how warm you’d gotten.

“my turn,” you said. you looked at both of them. “truth or dare.”

“dare,” they said in unison, you smiled. “prove it.”

“prove what?” luka asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“that you both want me this badly.”

austin raised a brow. “how?”

your gaze sharpened, “kiss each other.”

silence.

just the clock ticking, the streetlight flickering outside.,the weight of all the glances, all the touches, all the unfinished moments finally breaking through. you didn’t flinch, just leaned back on your elbows to give them space.

practice had been brutal.

not in the technical sense; drills were clean, footwork tight, even the new guys kept up, but the energy had been off all day, like the air hadn’t cleared since the last game.

you were on the sideline again, clipboard in hand, headphones half in. your hoodie was zipped to your neck, hair tied back, doing your best to look like neutrality in human form, but you could feel the tension rising. the way austin glanced sideways whenever luka got the ball. the way luka grinned just a little too wide when he beat him on a drive, none of it was sportsmanlike.

by the second half, coach had split them onto different squads. but that didn’t stop it. austin caught luka hard on a rebound. it wasn’t a foul on paper, but it was damn close. elbow brushing just under the ribs, hand lingering longer than necessary. luka dropped the ball but didn’t stumble, just straightened with a tight jaw and sharper eyes.

“watch it,” luka muttered, just low enough for only austin to hear.

austin didn’t blink. “should’ve held onto it tighter.”

you saw it from across the gym. saw how luka took one step forward like he wasn’t going to let it go. and then the whistle blew.

technical foul. austin. for escalation.

luka smirked. didn’t say anything, just ran a hand through his hair and walked back to the baseline like it didn’t touch him. but you saw the shift. saw the way his fingers curled at his sides. how he didn’t look in your direction even once after that. not even when he limped off court an hour later, rubbing at his back like it had started to tighten up again.

you stayed silent, didn’t offer, didn’t hover. if he wanted attention, he’d ask. you knew you were his favorite contact.

later that night, the facility was almost empty. lights dimmed, most of the players already gone home. you were in your repetitive routine. putting ice packs in the deep cooler, slow with your movements like you were waiting for something to break the silence. or, deep down, someone. a knock on the doorframe, soft but heavy. you didn’t turn, it was familair.

“you good?” you asked, not even looking up.

“back’s tight,” came the low reply, accent thick, familiar. then, a pause. “or maybe just an excuse.”

you turned at that. luka stood in the doorway, hoodie zipped halfway over his chest, sleeves bunched at the elbow. he looked tired, the usual postgame flush, hair damp at the edges, eyes unreadable.

you nodded toward the table. “same spot.”

he didn’t smile. didn’t say anything. just walked in, quiet in that way that made you notice. you prepped wordlessly; gloves, balm, towel. he laid flat, arms folded under his head like last time. your palms found the familiar lines of his back you didn’t speak for a long time. just moved over him. slow drag of thumbs, pressure into the scapula.

“you tech him on purpose?” you asked eventually. voice even.

he hummed, not quite a laugh. “depends who’s asking.”

you pressed harder. your touch said you weren’t in the mood for games.

“you enjoy this?” you murmured.

he scoffed lightly, cheek pressed into his arms. “don’t gotta enjoy it to win it.”

your hands stilled for a second, then resumed, firmer this time.

“you play better when you’re jealous.”

he turned his head, just enough for one eye to catch yours. “not for him.”

you didn’t answer. your fingers drifted to the dip of his spine. his skin was warm. his body finally, slowly, starting to let go beneath your palms. after a beat, you spoke again. “you’ll call me if it flares up again?”

“won’t need to.”

“no?”

“you’ll know.”

the weight of it hung there. it was thick, suspended, like his voice had left an imprint on the walls. he sat up then, slow. legs swinging off the table, hands braced behind him. sweat clung to the back of his neck. he didn’t reach for his hoodie yet. you stood still, gloves off now, just watching. he glanced at you once, sharp but not cold.

“he makes a lot of noise,” luka said quietly. “i can too.” he grabbed his hoodie. pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. then looked at you again, expression unreadable but not indifferent. “see you soon.”

you didn’t expect to find austin waiting for you after luka left, but when you came back from cleaning up the table, there he was, in the doorway, eyes dark.

“you’re clocked out,” he said quietly.

“so are you.”

he stepped in. the door shut behind him with a whisper. “you stayed late,” he added.

“wasn’t for you.”

his jaw flexed, “i know.”

you crossed your arms, leaned back against the edge of the table. “you trying to prove something again?” you asked, half teasing.

“nah,” he said. “i’m trying not to lose.”

you looked at him, searching deep for any sign of him in his soul, “you think this is a game?”

“no,” he said, stepping forward. “i think it’s already started.”

he stopped in front of you. not touching. but close. close enough that you felt his breath. close enough that you remembered the kiss, his grip, the way your knees almost buckled under the weight of it.

“he thinks he’s got it,” austin said, eyes locked on yours. “but he’s late to the story.”

“so write a new one,” you whispered.

he reached for you again, hand sliding behind your neck like he knew exactly how much you could take, like he was willing to burn for the win. and just before his lips touched yours again, you exhaled.

“careful,” you murmured. “he’s already a few points ahead.”

austin smiled then. crooked. hungry. “guess i’ll have to play dirty.”

the next game ended an hour ago, but the tension never left. not from the court, not from the locker room, not from the way you still felt their eyes on you long after the final buzzer. you hadn’t even turned around yet, and still you could feel it. you were refilling the ice cooler when they both came in. separately, but not far apart. luka first, silent and sweat-drenched. then austin, door swinging wide behind him like he wanted the room to know. his cut lip, flexed jaw, tank clinging to the slope of his chest like it had been glued there by grit and frustration.

you looked between them once. then gestured with your chin. “bench or table. either of you fall, i’m not catching you.”

neither of your boys moved, not at first. but they didn’t leave either. you walked over to luka first. you pulled an ice pack from the cooler and pressed it into the curve of his lower back. his breath stuttered, sharp, teeth clenched.

“you flare it up again?” you asked softly.

“not on purpose,” he muttered, accent thicker when he was tired. “but, maybe.”

you didn’t let your hands linger. just held the cold there. watched the way his shoulders rose with restraint. behind you, you could feel austin shift. his presence came closer before you heard his voice.

“you done icing him yet?” low ,annoyed, a challenge tucked into every word.

“jealous?” you replied, not looking.

“of bad posture?” he scoffed. “nah.”

you turned your head. just enough to see the way austin stood. his shoulders squared, arms crossed, jaw tight. but it wasn’t really anger. it was something smaller, darker. kinda even hotter.

you walked to him next. he didn’t flinch as you reached for his jaw, gently tilting his head to see the damage. the cut was small, but fresh.

“doesn’t need stitches,” you said, thumbing under his chin to hold him still.

“kiss it better then,” he said, almost too quiet.

you exhaled, short. your thumb stayed against his skin a moment longer than necessary. you wiped the blood and moved away without another word. luka hadn’t stopped watching. his eyes trailed you like he was still measuring the space between your body and his. his ice pack slipped a little, and you didn’t fix it.

instead, you stood in the middle. no gloves. no clipboard. nowhere to go. they were across from each other now, benches parallel, torsos hunched forward, bodies heavy with postgame fatigue. but the one thing they had in common, their eyes stayed sharp. trained on you, on the way you tilted your head like you were deciding if either of them were worth it.

austin’s leg bounced once. luka’s hand closed into a fist and opened again. you looked at luka, then austin, then back. they both looked good like this. tension buzzing under their skin. lips parted like they were waiting for direction. needy, desperate, not in words, but in want. you didn’t smile.

“you’ll both beg eventually.”