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veronicaphoenix · 9 months ago

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Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Epilogue | Words: 16.4k

Author's note: Get yourselves a few cups of coffee ready (or tea, for those who are more into it or have an addiction like myself) because this is super long and it's full of sweetness, fluff, and horny men utterly in love with their girl.

This takes place a year and a half after part 3.

Tags & trigger warnings: polyamorous relationship, three people totally in love with each other that go on a very-much-deserved vacation, a bit of implied angst at the beginning, but mostly kinky men, men tied-up, sexual content including p in v (unprotected), oral (both m. and f. receiving), face-sitting, accidental biting, light choking, implied anal sex, dirty talk, praise kink, (a lot of kinks actually, if you start squinting), and probably another bunch of things that I'm forgetting because this epilogue is really long, so forgive me.

This is dedicated to @blessedwithabadomen because without her, half of this fic would probably not exist. Thank you for your constant support and love on this work, and for helping me sort out the writing for the last parts of this story, and for your reassurance whenever I was drowning in self-doubt 🥹 Also, please, if you haven't, go check out her story: In love with the mess. You will truly not be disappointed, and it's just about to get so so so good! Couldn't feel more blessed and thankful for the effort and dedication she's putting into that work ✨ Thank you, L. 🤍

A year and a half later

London, United Kingdom

Heathrow Airport was buzzing with activity when our plane touched down from LAX in the late afternoon.

Noah and I had purposely booked a night flight to ease our jetlag once we hit the UK. It was one of those rare times we were traveling purely for some well-deserved vacation, a break from the hectic schedules of work and touring with Bad Omens. But despite spending the night in the plane, Noah was desperate to unclip his seat belt, get out of the airport with a strong coffee in hand, get to the hotel, and throw himself on the bed. Trying to catch some sleep on the flight was always a struggle for him with his long frame squished into those tiny seats. And I wasn't exactly well-rested either; but I was too excited to see Oliver.

Our last time together —the three of us— had been nearly two months back in the US at a festival where Bring Me The Horizon and Bad Omens were playing. Even though we were all committed to the relationship and always managed to make time for each other —traveling back and forth whenever possible—, those chance encounters were always a bonus and we enjoyed them all the same.

We were still figuring out how to deal with the distance. BMTH had been around for a while, so Oliver had more freedom to move from one place to another, hence why we had been talking about him moving over to the States. We had, in fact, checked some houses in different neighborhoods a while ago, but we hadn’t decided anything yet, beginning with the fact that we had a budget and the houses we saw exceeded it, especially the one I fell in love with. Moving to the UK ourselves wasn't really on the cards, not with Bad Omens still climbing their way to the top and Noah’s and I’s residence being in the America.

For the past couple of months, we'd been counting down the days until we could see Oliver again. Noah wasn’t very vocal about it, but he was just as eager as I was. Right now, however, he was probably just thinking about grabbing the hotel room key and crashing out in bed for a solid night's sleep. The streets of London could wait for us until next morning.

Despite how good things were now, there had been tough days, of course.

When the UK NextGen tour ended, Oliver wasted no time in buying a plane ticket to join us for the last week of Bad Omens' tour across Europe. However, once the end approached, the farewell was imminent. Noah and I were eager to return home. He was obviously more exhausted than the rest of us. He lacked hours of sleep, and his body was beginning to feel the strain.

The farewell was bittersweet. There were tears and hugs that lingered too long. What hurt the most was witnessing the final embrace between Noah and Oliver.

During the time we spent together in Europe, their relationship had grown significantly. The fact that the three of us were in a polyamorous relationship played a big part, but it also seemed like they had found each other after a long time as friends. On one occasion, during one of Bad Omens' day off in Europe, I found the two of them napping in the hotel room when I had slipped away to the nearest Starbucks for a Caramel Macchiato. The sight of them lost in their dreams, cuddled up next to each other in bed, was so tender that it felt like my heart would burst. I kept a picture of that moment stored safely on my phone.

Nevertheless, however peaceful that moment was, there were hard moments that had to happen for us to be where we stood right now. There was jealousy, of course. While I never stopped feeling loved by both of them, even when they had their moments and spent hours away from me, focused on their work and making music together, the feeling wasn't the same for Oliver and Noah. It was inevitable because an ocean separated us, and at some point they started feeling that I spent more time with the other. Their heated argument in Oliver’s house the previous summer had thankfully resolved this issue, regardless of both ending up sleeping on the sofa. The good thing about that week in Sheffield was that the drop that spilled the cup killed two birds in one go, resolving the tension that had been building between Noah and Oliver because they refused to acknowledge that they wanted each other the same way they wanted me.

The image of both of them angry was not a pretty one. Seeing them unleash those demons on stage could be very fun and exciting, but when it was at home, it wasn't pleasant at all. Luckily, we were in a much better place right now and that was part of the past. After that heated fight that nearly got physical, things got so much better. During that trip, we canceled the plans we had for the few days we had left in Sheffield, and decided to spend them holed up at Oliver's house, focusing on resolving our issues, insecurities, and fears, and making up for the lack of affection from the previous days. The reconciliation was so effusive that every time after discussing doubts and possible conflicts that might arise and the solution to these, we ended up having wild sex, and by the time our time together came to an end, we had blessed every corner and nook of Oliver's house, we had used up three boxes of condoms, and we had left the marks of our hands and knees on glass, furniture, and windows.

This time, a year later, the plan was to embark on a road trip to the Lake District, where Oliver had booked a chalet. Sheffield was on the way, so we would make a quick stop to pick up Luna. But first, we were to stay in London for three days. I had booked tickets to the Jack the Ripper Museum and to the Harry Potter studios, and I wanted to get to know the city a bit better, so I had planned a route along the Thames and through Camden Town.

The moment I spotted Oliver standing right outside the arrival gates at the airport, his smile widened, mirroring mine. Leaving Noah with the luggage, I hurried over to him, and he caught me in his arms. I wrapped my limbs around him, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth and every other thing offered by his sole being.

“Hi, love,” he greeted.

“Hi,” I responded, giving him a gentle kiss. “I missed you.”

“So have I,” Noah chimed in from behind, his voice sounding a tad annoyed as he maneuvered the trolley laden with our suitcases. “I’m the one that needs to be held, by the way.”

With a laugh, I disentangled myself from Oliver and watched as he closed the distance to Noah. Their embrace was tight, their kiss passionate, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

“Long flight?” Oliver inquired.

“Just like every other time, but it’s not the flight that’s the issue,” Noah replied.

“It’s the long legs,” I interjected.

“We’ll book you a masseur once we’re at the hotel,” Oliver suggested, wrapping his arm around Noah’s shoulders.

I furrowed my brow at the suggestion.

“Noah doesn’t need a masseur,” I stated, feeling offended. Stepping back slowly as we started to move towards the exit, I kept my eyes on them. They both seemed to find my reaction amusing, their grins widening. I couldn’t help but soften, a smile betraying my feigned offense.

Oliver reached out and tousled my hair, which I didn’t mind. After the long flight, I was already a mess. I sidled up next to him, tilting my head to kiss his jaw as the three of us made our way out of the airport.

As soon as we stepped into the hotel room in London, Noah dropped his bags and collapsed face-first onto the extra-large bed. Following suit, Oliver removed Noah’s shoes from his feet, which dangled over the edge of the bed. It always struck me how Noah managed to make everything seem small in comparison.

Oliver removed Noah’s socks and began massaging his tired feet, paying no mind to the fact that both Noah and I desperately needed a shower. Despite offering to make him coffee or order food, Noah declined, already on the brink of sleep. Before drifting off, however, he mentioned that I must be hungry and suggested Oliver and I go out to eat while he took a nap.

With that, Oliver and I left Noah to rest (ensuring to hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door) and set out to find a nearby spot for a quick meal. Despite the weariness of our journey, the stroll was a welcome relief for my legs. As we walked, Oliver would occasionally reach out to take my hand, his touch sending a warm flutter through me. He would also point out little details of the cityscape that he knew I would appreciate while filling me up with updates from work and about his family.

Eventually, we settled for a vegan cheese roll with falafels from a quaint street vendor. As we sat on a bench, heleaned in close, brushing a strand of hair away from my face with gentle fingers. The simple act sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but lean into his touch, feeling the weight of the journey melt away in his presence.

By the time we finished eating, my head was resting on Oliver's shoulder, and I could feel myself drifting off, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city. We felt like carefree teenagers who had just escaped from class but weren’t quite ready to head home yet. Despite the usual surge of excitement that swept over me whenever the three of us were reunited in the same city, my body felt drained. No matter how hard I tried to summon energy from within, each bite of food seemed to weigh me down further, and Oliver’s constant attentiveness, his arms wrapping around me at every opportunity, only intensified the sensation.

“How is he doing?” He asked suddenly, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of my skull. He was referring to Noah.

In an instant, memories flooded back, a torrent of emotions crashing against the walls of my mind. Bad Omens was on a deadline to get their new record ready before summer’s end, and the pressure had ensnared Noah in a relentless grasp. Consumed by his passion, as typical of him, he had neglected his mental health, and us. Noah had moved into my apartment during the summer before, but the moment he started working intensively in new music, he had practically moved back to the confines of the house he shared with Jolly, Jesse, and Orie. What began as weekday absences soon stretched into weekends lost, then an entire month slipped through and we hadn’t spent not even one night in each other’s arms. He was going to the gym and keeping track of his diet, but the problem was that he was not taking a break. Of course, we were having sex, but sometimes it felt devoid of passion, as if it was a job that had to be done and left me adrift in a sea of longing. He had also started to miss Oliver’s calls, especially the ones after I had talked to Oliver myself and I had cried over the phone, asking him to please come to Los Angeles or get me on a flight to England.

“Much better,” I murmured, drawing in a breath heavy with the weight of the obstacles we’d had to overcome the previous months.

Memories of the night in which I couldn’t hold it any longer flooded my senses. I had been in Noah’s house, waiting for an hour for a date that he had obviously forgotten about. When tears started cascading down my cheeks, Jolly and Jesse intervened and got his ass out of the studio. Noah’s eyes were red and his hair greasy.

“I guess seeing me having a breakdown did something to him. He looked shaken. Scared, even. And after that…” I sighed, relieved. “He's trying harder now, focusing on everything else that also matters.” Us. “He talked to his therapist and he’s managing things in a different way. He’s going to be okay. And we’ll be ok, too.”

Looking into Oliver’s earthy eyes, I could see his relief. He had been absent most of those difficult times, and he’d been worried about Noah and about me, his concern also getting the worst of him at times. At some point he’d been this close to dropping his own job stuff and getting on a plane to come be with me and give Noah a good spanking. Thankfully, it never came to that. Things got better. Now, we were reunited again, the three of us. We were better, trying every day, and supporting each other through our imperfections.

As we made our way back to the hotel room an hour later, I stopped at a Starbucks to get a cup of Noah’s favorite coffee. I hadn’t been able to resist a few sips, the familiar taste being a comforting distraction from my fatigue.

Noah was awake and fresh from a shower when we entered the room, emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a towel that barely covered him from the waist down, his damp hair clinging to his temples and forehead. Even though I had witnessed this sight countless times before and could conjure it up in my mind whenever I pleased, it never failed to stir something primal within me.

“I brought you coffee,” I managed to say, my throat feeling suddenly dry as I handed him the cup.

“My angel,” he replied, his lips curling into a grateful smile as he took the Starbucks cup from my hand and brought it to his lips.

His gaze shifted to Oliver as he sipped the coffee. Oliver approached him, passing by me with a mischievous half-smile, and ran a finger down Noah’s chest, trailing down to his navel. Before he could say anything, Noah’s free hand shot out, gripping Oliver’s wrist, preventing him from venturing any further.

“Let me finish my coffee first,” Noah murmured, his voice low and husky.

Oliver responded with a throaty laugh, the sound sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through the room.

I couldn’t find rest until nightfall came. Despite my insistence that Noah and Oliver let me catch some much-needed sleep in bed while they entertained themselves on the sofa in the room, they conspired together to convince me otherwise. They argued that it would be better for me to expend the last of my energy and then enjoy a more restful deeper sleep.

As if our first night together each time we reunited was ever a night of rest, of course.

How naïve I was to entertain such notion, considering that I always allowed them to have their way with me both before and after dinner.

The first day in London was a whirlwind, leaving Noah and me feeling drained and struggling to regain our footing. The subsequent days, thankfully, unfolded at a gentler pace. We indulged in the luxury of sleeping in and enjoying breakfast in our room, accompanied by tender moments of cuddling, sweet kisses, and the occasional lustful touch.

While I briefly talked to my brother on the phone the second morning, Noah took out his MacBook from his bag and started working, which caused Oliver to scold him because we had all agreed that this vacation would be work-free. I couldn't help but shoot Noah a disapproving look, too, which quickly transformed into a gentle shoulder rub and a heartfelt conversation. I couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. I reminded him that he didn't need to be so hard on himself and that it was perfectly acceptable to disconnect from work for a while. Nothing would happen.

I understood, though, that part of Noah’s reluctance to let go stemmed from his deep-seated fear of everything that he had built crashing down the moment he stepped away from his responsibilities. For months —even years— I’d been trying to help him to get rid of this fear, but Noah’s stubbornness matched his dedication to his work. Bad Omens was everything to him. When he had nothing, he had the band. I knew I wasn’t the perfect role model in this regard, but I was making an effort to help him let go, offering some reassurance that morning in London as I massaged his tense shoulders and tempted him with the multitude of activities we could do during our time in the city.

I’d been to Camden Town before, but spending the day with Oliver and Noah proved to me much more fun and memorable. We lost ourselves in the maze of market stalls, where eccentric vendors tried to sell their stuff with infectious enthusiasm, and stumbled upon a booth selling quirky hats and accessories, where we tried on an assortment of those, collapsing into fits of laughter as we admired ourselves in the mirrors.

But the highlight of that day came when we stumbled upon a street performer—a magician with gloved hands and a twinkle in his eyes. He made us stop by pointing towards me insistently with a finger. I would have ignored it weren’t it for Oliver, who pulled me, and per consequent, Noah, who has holding onto my other hand, to stand in front of the man. He took out a deck of cards from his pocket, and without uttering a word, he made me choose one of them. I couldn’t see them for they were facing down. I didn’t take long to choose one and flip it around to be met with a card called the Ace of Pentacles. I raised an eyebrow, for I had no clue what it meant, and by the look on Oliver and Noah’s faces, they didn’t know, either.

For the first time, the magician spoke with a grin on his face.

“Something new will be offered to you, young lady.”

“Something new?” I repeated automatically.

Noah let go of my hand. When I turned to him, he was glaring at the man with a mix of suspicion and disbelief. The man moved his eyebrows up and down as he stared at Oliver and Noah. I followed the movement of his eyes, expecting either one of the boys to say something to me.

But they said nothing. Oliver handed the man a few coins and pulled me away from him. “What was that about?” I asked as he hurried me through the people crowding the alleyways.

“Just some street magic,” Oliver replied, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying a hint of unease.

Noah, still struggling to keep pace with Oliver’s determined strides, wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Yeah, just a gimmick,” he chimed in, his voice a soft murmur against my hair.

“He was definitely trying to tell me something.”

Oliver glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s just a street performer, love. They say things to entertain.”

“He was probably just trying to keep the act interesting,” Noah added.

“That’s why you’re both trying so hard to dismiss his words?”

“That’s what you think we’re doing?” Noah replied.

“You’re being blatantly obvious.”

Oliver shared a look with Noah and then shook his head. I slapped his chest, demanding his attention. He replied by wrapping his arms around me and muttering his next words between gritted teeth.

“Just let it go, babydoll. Don’t be so stubborn and let things be.” They were definitely hiding something, but it was also obvious that they were not going to say anything. “How about we grab something to eat? I’m starving.”

The idea of food was a welcome distraction, and I nodded eagerly in agreement.

Together, we weaved our way through the maze of food stalls, the tantalizing aroma of various cuisines wafting through the air. We settled in when we found a free spot, and the tension seemed to dissipate.

But try as I might, I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that the cryptic words from that man had a meaning, maybe something that somehow involved Oliver and Noah, and perhaps even me. I had more reason to believe that when I caught them talking about it again after they thought I had wandered to a vintage toys stall in the underground area of Camden Town.

“That was some creepy shit back there, man,” Noah said to him. “How the hell did he know?”

“He didn’t know anything,” Oliver retorted, trying to sound confident in his words, but he failed miserably, and he knew it.

“Dude,” Noah replied, insistent. “I saw the look on your face.”

“Well, I prefer to ignore it, or better: let’s get her s—…”

I couldn’t grasp the rest of the conversation because a group of teenagers accidentally pushed me and pulled me further from Noah and Oliver, dragging me to the opposite side of the shop with useless apologies and giggles. I sent them a sullen look and made my way out, looking for my boys.

I found them after a few minutes, coming out from a packed shop in a corner that was surrounded from every corner, top, bottom, and sides, by merchandising from different movies, series, and bands.

Noah was putting his wallet back in the front pocket of his jeans while Oliver carried a quite big box. I raised an eyebrow.

“What did you buy?” I asked when I was in front of them. The three of us moved slightly to the side to let the tourists move through the narrow alleys.

“Something for you,” Oliver said. “Noah told me you’ve spent the last couple of weeks watching Chucky so…”

“We got you a Tiffany,” Noah finished as Oliver faced the front of the box to me.

I blinked as the replica of Tiffany Valentine stared back at me with her singular smile. She was dressed in her wedding gown and a biker’s jacket, and she looked just as malicious as she was in the movies.

“Oh, my God, guys,” I held the box, keeping it at a fair distance to examine the details of the doll. “This must have costed a fortune. What were you thinking?!”

“That crazy guy back there said that something would be offered to you so… I guess he was right, after all,” Noah replied.

I licked my lips and looked at them with a face that said, “seriously?”. But how could I neglect the joy at the fact that they had thought about gifting me a collectible of this magnitude?

“Where are we going to keep her? In the room? You’ll both get freaked out in the middle of the night if you get up to go to the bathroom.”

“We’ll go together, holding hands,” Oliver joked.

And with our laughs mixing with the sounds of the market, we moved forward.

Come evening, we made our way back to the city center and enjoyed a warm copious meal in a restaurant in Covent Garden.

The next day, walking along the banks of the Thames, hand in hand with my boys, the whispering breeze brushing against our skin, we sipped hot chocolates. I was holding Oliver’s hand while relishing in the drink when I noticed Noah walking angrily at a certain distance. I let go of Oliver’s hand, earning a shocked look from him.

“You can’t both hold one of my hands and still expect me to hold a cup of hot chocolate. Don’t be so dramatic.”

With our voices mingling with the voices of other tourists and pedestrians, we walked the long way from Westminster to the Tower Bridge, sharing stolen kisses. While in London, we also hopped on the Jack the Ripper tour,shivering with excitement and clinging to each other as we delved into the city's darker past. Then, to lighten the mood, we ventured to the Harry Potter Studios, where Oliver couldn't resist teasing Noah relentlessly, suggesting how good he would look with Harry Potter's glasses and a tunic, with nothing underneath. Noah's flushed cheeks and playful slaps on Oliver's chest only fueled the laughter that echoed through the magical halls.

The day we left London in Oliver’s Range Rover had me feeling a bit jittery, especially after we made our pit stop in Sheffield for lunch and to pick up Luna before heading to Cumbria.

While I busied myself with packing groceries that Oliver had in the fridge and that would expire soon, I overheard the boys chatting upstairs. Being the naturally curious (and maybe slightly nosy person that I was when it came to those two), I had the intuition that they were discussing something they didn’t want me to hear. It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d done that, after all. Plus, I still remembered that one time they argued and roared like lions to each other in this very room, accusing each other of hogging all my time.

I climbed the stairs, Luna trotting faithfully behind me with her tail wagging happily. When I peeked into Oliver’s study —a spot where he and Noah often locked themselves to work together—, I found them both bent over the computer screen, looking all serious. But as they noticed me, Oliver quickly closed his laptop.

“Is something wrong?” I inquired casually.

“Nothing,” they replied simultaneously, their responses lacking conviction.

Noah brushed past me, planting a quick kiss on the crown of my head before smoothly transitioning to ask about our trip preparations. It was clear that he was attempting to steer the conversation away.

“What were you talking about?” I pressed.

“Work,” Oliver replied tersely, his tone final. “I’m sorry. That was the last of it. We’ll stay away from all of it during the trip.”

You better, I wanted to reply.

However, I wasn’t entirely convinced, and not in regards to this last statement. Perhaps they were simply hashing out some night scenario that involved sex toys and all those things they liked to use when the three of us were in bed. The thought momentarily eased my apprehension, though a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that they were hiding something.

The trip to Cumbria took about two hours from Sheffield. We made a brief stop in a rural village to allow Luna a chance to stretch her legs while we refueled the car and enjoyed a cup of coffee and a snack.

Arriving at the chalet by Ullswater Lake just after five in the afternoon, the warm glow of the summer sun still lingered, promising us a few more hours of daylight to enjoy. After receiving the keys from the chalet host and familiarizing ourselves with the property, we decided to take a walk by the lakeside and play with Luna, who seemed even more static than the three of us at the prospect of spending a few days away from home.

The serenity of the countryside quickly enveloped us, offering a respite from the hustle and bustle of our lives in the city. While Oliver and Noah unloaded the luggage, I decided to stay on the porch, basking in the new surroundings and peaceful ambiance. All I could hear was the birdsong, the rustle of leaves, and the gentle lapping of water against the shore.

“Doll, you comin’ in?” Oliver’s voice broke through my moment of enchantment as he enveloped me in his arms.

“Yeah,” I replied with contentment, leaning into his touch.

“We’re going to have a good time here,” he mused.

I hummed in agreement, savoring the intimacy of the moment and wrapping my arms around my middle, where his kept me securely pressed against his chest.

“Especially our pretty boy back there,” he teased, casting a playful glance over his shoulder towards the inside of the house, where Noah was.

“Thank you for doing this for him,” I acknowledged.

“I know he needs it the most, but this is for all of us,” he explained, a hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice as he recalled the challenging months leading up to this moment. “We haven’t had proper holidays the three of us together since… forever.”

“We’ve been dating for a year and a half,” I reminded him, unable to suppress a smile at his melodramatic flair.

He responded with a mock growl, his actions sparking laughter between us.

“Come on, let’s go in. You’re going to love the bedroom.”

He led the way inside.

The interior of the house had a rustic charm, with wooden planks adorning the walls and ceiling. The sofa faced the towering windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, offering an uninterrupted vista of the swaying trees and the tranquil expanse of the lake, its surface shimmering in the dappled sunlight. There was also a stone fireplace (not that we would use it, but it added to the coziness of the house). Adjacent to the living room, the kitchen lay open and inviting. Noah had left the food bag on the countertop, next to a water-filled vase that held a bouquet of white flowers that the host had placed right that morning, as a welcoming sign.

There was one guest bathroom and, inside the suite, a main one with a bathtub. The suite had a grandiose plush bed dominating the space. Either Oliver or Noah had placed the Tiffany doll box in the middle of it, propped against the bunch of pillows that were calling to me.

Noah was crouched by the tall windows on the far end, taking out some stuff and clothes from his bag when Oliver and me made our way in.

“It’s practically begging you to dive in, isn’t it?” Noah chimed in from the floor, gesturing towards the bed. Opposite the bed, a large mirror hung on the wall, the reflective surface capturing the play of light and shadow that danced through the room.

Beside Noah, there was a cozy long divan. For an innocent instant, I conceived the idea of laying there with a book in my hands and a steamy cup of tea next to it, totally unaware that I would be propped there in all fours with no book nearby in less than twenty-four hours.

After the evening walk, we entertained ourselves preparing a light dinner meal that would suit everyone’s tastes. Balancing Oliver's vegan diet and Noah's muscle-building goals wasn't always easy, but we managed. I wasn’t too picky myself, so I was happy with whatever was on the menu.

With dinner done, we headed out to the porch overlooking the lake. Feeling witchy, I prepared a pot of lavender tea and served us a cup each. By eleven o’clock we were comfortably settled, wrapped in hoodies and blankets in the chairs provided. Noah was snug in one of his hoodies, but Oliver was barefoot, though. We talked for a while, going over through the activities that we would do while in Cumbria. The moment I noticed that the talk was steering back towards work-related topics, I brought back the talk about the house. We’d been thinking about moving in together and find a place in Los Angeles, and even though we had gone house hunting a few times, we couldn’t seem to agree on one house, and I had the nagging feeling inside of me that maybe Oliver and Noah were still not ready to take that step, even if we would spend half of the time away from each other with their tours and Oliver having his family and most of his life in England.

As the night deepened, our chatter gradually subsided, giving way to a peaceful silence that allowed me to take in the things I should be grateful for.

With a contented smile on my face, I looked at my boys one last time before allowing sleep to take over me. One of them lifted me into their arms and guided me into the house and to the bed. It didn’t matter which one it was. They both felt like home whenever I was tucked against their bodies.

They were home.

It was ten thirty in the morning when I came out from the bedroom, where I had been rummaging through my clothes looking for the swimming piece I had recently bought. My heart swelled with a mixture of tenderness and concern as I found Noah seated on the sofa, his brow furrowed in a deep frown as he stared intently at his MacBook screen. I told him so many times to leave the laptop back at Oli’s house, but to hell if he would ever listen when it came to these things… Without a word, I approached him, my fingers finding his back and gently starting to massage his tense shoulders. A soft sight of contentment escaped his lips at the touch, but it was clear that the burdens weighing on his mind ran deeper than simple muscle tension.

Outside, the joyful sound of Oliver’s voice drifted in through the open door, accompanied by Luna’s excited barks as they played fetch by the water. Through the windows, I watched as Oliver, shirtless and with his hair all over the place, tossed the ball into the water, Luna running after it without hesitation and jumping into the lake.

A minute later, Oliver was in the water, too.

“Let’s go,” I said to Noah with encouragement, releasing his shoulders.

He turned his head to me with a dramatic pout. I just gave him a look and proceeded to lift his MacBook from his lap, placing it on the coffee table before taking Noah’s hand and guiding him towards the door.

Finally outside, Luna’s eager bark greeted us from the water. She emerged from the shore and trotted to us, her wet white fur glistening in the sunlight as droplets flew through the air. I reached out to pet her head, feeling the cool moisture against my skin, while Noah crouched down to squash her cheeks and shower her with affectionate whispers.

I shed the thin beach robe I wore and left it draped over the armrest of one of the wooden chairs that Oliver had moved to the deck earlier that morning. With my hair cascading down my back, I made my way to the edge, oblivious to the lingering stares of the two men, one behind me, the other one already in the water. I dipped my hand into the water before diving in headfirst.

As I submerged beneath the surface, the weight of the world seemed to lift from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of weightlessness and freedom. I swam further from the deck, distancing myself from Oliver. My limbs moved in harmony with the rhythm of the water. In the distance, the silhouette of another house peeked through the trees, a solitary boat resting on its landing. The only sounds were the distant barking of a dog that wasn’t Luna and the gentle rustle of leaves.

Just as I was about to start swimming back to where I had last seen Oliver, I found him and Noah already in the water, their smiles radiant in the sunlight as they swam towards me.

Noah dipped his head, and as he came back to the surface he shook his head, causing water from his hair to splash in my face. I shielded my face with my hands, laughing. In no time, he had me wrapped in his embrace, peppering my neck with kisses. I hugged him tightly with my arms and legs around him. Moments later, Noah gently nudged me towards Oliver, who pulled me close with a perfect smile.

With his hair being longer, Oliver's locks cascaded around his face. I lovingly pushed them back, tucking them behind his ears, and I couldn't help but laugh at how different he looked with his wet hair slicked back. He said something as he raised an eyebrow, but his words were drowned out by Luna's leap from the dock. With a tennis ball clutched in her mouth, she swam over to us. Noah grabbed the ball and threw it far, prompting Luna to paddle after it will all her might. For the next hour, we played with her, reveling in the simple joy of the morning. After the tumultuous year we had endured, both personally and professionally, this vacation felt like a much-needed oasis in the desert.

I felt a swell of pride, not just in myself, but in the two incredible men I was sharing my life with.

After a while, I found myself in Noah's arms again, letting him rock me side to side in the water, my head resting against his shoulder, my skin wrinkling from all the time we'd spent in the lake. Noah and Oliver were talking about a festival anecdote from the previous year in Milan, while Oliver absentmindedly toyed with Luna’s worn tennis ball. She was lounging lazily in the sun on the deck. But the boy’s conversation eventually dwindled into silence, a quietness that I only noticed when I felt Oliver’s chest against my back, his lips pressing a tender kiss to my shoulder. I smiled, nestled against Noah’s body.

Suddenly, Oliver’s hand, which had previously been resting on my waist, slid down to the seam of my bikini bottom, making me gasp. Noah was observing my reaction with a mischievous grin. Two seconds later, he deftly located the strings of my bikini top and skillfully untied the knot.

My questions about what they were doing went unanswered.

A wave of panic surged within me when the two pieces of clothing were removed from my body and I was suddenly naked in the water. I looked over my shoulder to Oliver only to find him swimming back towards the deck. Panicking, I looked at Noah. I was about to tighten my grip on him when he disentangled my limbs from his body, kissed me on the lips quickly, and also started swimming away from me.

“Guys?”

No reply.

“Guys!” I screamed, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes scanning the surroundings to make sure we were alone.

With no preamble, they got out of the water, meeting on the deck with my bikini pieces in hand, exchanging amused glances before turning their attention towards me, floating in the lake with wide eyes, trying to understand what the purpose of this was. Laughing, they headed towards the chairs, Oliver pausing at the outdoor shower to cleanse himself. Before turning on the water, he tossed my bikini bottom to Noah, who caught it in a swift movement of his arm.

“Are you kidding me?” I muttered to myself as I watched Oliver enjoy his shower and Noah have fun examining my bikini with an interested look on his face, as if it was something he had never seen before.

Nervously, I kept glancing around me, aware that if someone decided to come out from those houses in the distance or some people in a boat drove past this place they would see me, for the water was clear enough to reveal my nudity.

This wasn’t fun. Or at least not until I realized they had no intention of returning my swimming suit. The spectacle was too engaging for them to give it up so soon.

I licked my lips in a nervous attempt at sorting out my options. As much as I enjoyed letting them do these things, they were pulling on my strings, and you know that saying ‘two can play at a game’? Well, three can play, too.

So, I swam my way back to the shore and climbed the ladder, letting the water cascade off my body, down my breasts and my legs. I stood at the edge for a moment to sweep my hair back, relishing in the stunned expressions on their faces as their eyes scanned my bare body on display.

Yes, they had expected me to stay in the water and beg for my bikini.

Without sparing them a glance, I walked confidently back to the house, grabbing my towel on the way and wrapping it around me. As I entered the house, I looked back one last time to see their mouths agape.

I stuck my tongue out at them and headed towards the shower in the bedroom’s bathroom.

It had not even been twenty minutes since I stepped into the bathroom to wash myself. While drying my hair, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, sporting a naughty smile. The dirty girl in me was just waiting for the provocation to pay off.

What took me by surprise was how quickly the anticipated scenario unfolded the moment I opened the bathroom door.

I wasn't even given time to look forward to the night.

Oliver and Noah were standing in the doorway leading to the bedroom, each casually leaning against one side, still wearing their trunks and their hair still slightly damp. They looked at me expectantly, wicked smiles playing on their lips.

It looked like a scene straight out of a movie, really. These things rarely happened in real life.

Knowing that minutes of pleasure awaited us –or perhaps hours (I was allowed to be optimistic)–, I provocatively slipped a finger into my mouth, teasingly nibbling on the tip while fluttering my eyelashes a couple of times.

Oliver's eyes traced a path up and down my figure, lingering on the expanse of my legs where the hem of Noah’s white t-shirt I had borrowed ended. Little did he know, I wasn’t wearing any panties, just like the time we attended my brother’s Jack engagement party. My mind had truly turned into a perverted thing. Just thinking about what we had done during that evening made me shiver with anticipation, imagining what could unfold today.

“Get on the bed.”

The command didn’t come from Oliver or Noah, bur from my own lips. The startled expressions on their faces made the courage it took me to assert myself like that in their presence totally worth it.

Noah arched an eyebrow.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me,” I replied, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto my face despite the efforts to maintain an air of determination and dominance. The situation was electrifying, fueling an adrenaline rush that promised to leave me grasping for air.

Oliver was the first to comply, albeit with a hint of reluctance, his gaze trailing me from the doorway to the expansive bed. He settled against the headboard, but I shook my head, silently motioning for him to lie down. Then, my attention turned to Noah.

“Noah?” My eyes met with a look that suggested he had a different idea of how things should unfold. I nearly rolled my eyes.

“Noah, could you please get on the bed?” I emphasized the ‘please’, hoping to appeal to his cooperation.

“Now that’s more like it,” he responded, finally acquiescing.

As I turned to retrieve something from the dresser where we had kept some of our stuff, I did roll my eyes. You might not be able to take the Dom out of Noah, but I was more than ready to keep trying, if only for the fun of it.

In the back of the top drawer, I found what I was looking for: two pairs of handcuffs. A smile played on my lips as I examined them before turning to face the guys.

They were both lying on the bed side by side, their heads slightly raised to watch me. Confusion tinged their expressions as they observed me standing there, the pair of handcuffs dangling from my fingers.

“What do you think you’re going to do with those?” Noah questioned as I approached him, taking his left hand and guiding it towards the bars of the bed’s headboard.

“It’s about time we turned the tables, don’t you think?” I replied, securing the first cuff, noticing how Noah’s expression was becoming strained.

“Baby, you don’t want to do this,” he protested.

“But you’re letting me, aren’t you?” I softened my voice, sweetening my tone.

Noah pursued his lips, a nervous twitch appearing in his jaw.

“I’d let you do anything. That doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of having me at your feet,” he argued.

“Don’t you think I deserve a little payback for you leaving me naked in the lake?”

“You didn’t seem too upset when you came out of the water, doll,” Oliver interjected, lounging back to enjoy the interaction between me and Noah.

“A woman has to learn to govern herself, especially is she’s with two perverts like you two.”

“I’m not a pervert,” Noah protested again.

Click. With both wrists now secured to the bed, from my position at the foot of the bed, the image looked tantalizing. But it was evident that Noah wasn’t comfortable not being the one in control. While my initial intent was merely revenge, I began to consider that perhaps this could end up helping Noah relax and let go. He was a control freak and a perfectionist, qualities I benefited from, but which could also burden him.

Noah tested the strength of the restraints, growing more frustrated as he realized his attempts were futile. The handcuffs were sturdy; they weren’t freaking toys.

I wasn’t too sure that Noah would withstand what I wanted to do to him without starting to plead for release, but it was worth a try.

“Dude, you are a perv,” Oliver said.

“Just because I enjoy sex and having fun during it doesn’t make me a perv,” Noah defended.

“Are you sure about that?” The other man challenged him.

“Absolutely. Call me whatever you want, just not a pervert.”

“Kinky lover?” I suggested.

“Hm. Yeah, that works for me,” He finally agreed.

Oliver’s laughter at the interaction ceased abruptly when I seized his wrist, securing his left hand alongside Noah’s right.

“What?” I spoke. “Did you think I was only going to tie up Noah? You took off my bikini bottoms,” I pointed out.

“Who’s laughing now, bastard?” Noah grunted.

Unlike Noah, Oliver submitted to being tied more readily, without making grumpy faces and pulling at the handcuffs. He simple observed with particular attention as I bound him.

To secure his left wrist, I had to climb onto the bed and pass one leg over his lap, kneeling over his shorts.

“Are you not wearing any underwear?” He suddenly exclaimed.

Immediately, Noah’s eyes also dropped to the space between my legs.

I hurried to fasten the handcuffs, then stepped off the bed, pulling the shirt down to cover myself.

“Are your trunks still wet? I better take them off,” I suggested.

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered, impatient and wide-eyed. “Take them off,” his words were accompanied by the not-so-subtle movement of his hips.

Noah, at his side, was growing increasingly hot and tense. He remained silent, only lifting his hips slightly when I indicated for him to do, allowing me to drop both their trunks to the floor.

To tease them a bit more, I stayed still for a moment, admiring their bodies, relishing in the sight of what they had between their legs.

Yeah, those were mine.

I licked my lips, alternating my gaze between the two. With the intensity of my stare, Oliver’s cock twitched slightly.

“Don’t move,” I instructed as I walked backwards towards the luggage.

“Is that some kind of joke?” Noah questioned, irritated.

I retrieved a tiny light blue lingerie set from my suitcase. I hadn’t planned on wearing it until the last night, but it seemed like debuting it now could be fun. I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself in to change.

I didn’t spend more than five minutes there, but Oliver and Noah were growing so impatient.

When I opened the door, I was nervous, but at least, seeing them both securely tied to the bed alleviated some of it.

Their complaints dissipated the moment they saw me. As much as I would have loved to revel in a delicious torture and watch them fight against the restraints, watch their cocks grow harder and harder just by watching me, and thinking of what they might do to me and what I was going to do to them, impatience was already taking its toll on me, and the butterflies in my stomach were dancing anxiously.

I climbed onto the bed and positioned myself between the two bodies, placing my hands on their thighs. I caressed them, warming the skin of their legs as well as the skin of my own hands.

I initiated the warm-up by kissing Oliver, a little reward for behaving. He responded hungrily, his roar muffled by the intensity of our kiss. Tracing my lips along his jaw and down his neck, I savored the sensation, eliciting withheld moans that mingled with the sounds of Noah’s struggles against his handcuffs.

I may have had only one mouth, but I had two hands.

I slid over to Noah, offering him a smile before pressing my lips to his. As I kissed and nibbled, my right hand trailed down Oliver’s chest, tracing the patterns etched into his skin from memory, reveling in the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. When I placed my palm face down, I could feel his heart racing.

Noah’s contentment, however, surprised me.

I had expected him to beg in a hoarse, choked voice to let him go, unable to bear being at my mercy, so mine was the surprise when instead, he asked me to touch him.

I repositioned myself, glancing at Oliver before complying with Noah’s request.

“Touch him, doll,” Oli said.

My left hand moved down Noah's chest, past his navel and through the dark pubic hair before reaching his throbbing member and encircling it with my fingers. Noah let out a sigh that held all the air he had been holding inside. I tugged at him at the same time that my mouth descended through his neck until my lips landed on one of his nipples. He sucked in a breath. His back arched a little, and I took that as a notice to use my tongue to toy with his nipple, nibble at it and suck on it, just the way he loved doing with mine.

“Fuck…”

That was a glorious sound.

I settled at the foot of the bed, and leaned down to caress the tip of Noah’s cock with my tongue. He tilted his head back, eyes closed. He was hard as a rock.

Beside him, Oliver wasn’t in much different condition, but his eyes were open, and he watched with lust and a fierce hunger the movements of my tongue, lips, and fingers on Noah's cock.

“Watch,” I told him, “because everything I'm doing to Noah I’ll do to you next.”

I loved Noah’s taste. It was a potent blend of masculine essence with a tinge of salty and earthly kick. A surge of pride swelled withing me each time I witnessed how deeply I aroused him. That look of total pleasure on his face? I did that.

With my mouth on his cock, Noah’s moans filled the room, resonating through the walls. The art of sucking him off was a dance I had mastered long ago, a rhythmic symphony orchestrated by the movements of my lips and tongue, the occasionally scrap of my teeth and a tortuous suction, guided by the music of Noah’s vocalizations.

However, I could sense he was holding back. A furrow appeared between his brows; his struggle evident as he strained against the handcuffs. After a few minutes, a vein in his neck began to swell. Next to him, Oliver muttered a curse, his own erection hurting for being neglected while his eyes couldn’t wander away from my ministrations on our pretty boy.

Soon, when I felt Noah tense in my mouth, on the brink of release, I withdrew.

“No!” He shouted, lifting his head in a rush. “Babe, what are you doing?” His tone was desperate, evident in the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

Running a finger across my lips, I moistened them before shifting my focus to Oliver. “It’s Oliver’s turn.”

“But— I didn’t come.”

“And you won’t. Not in my mouth. Not now.”

His brown eyes widened further as he watched me descend, mouth open and tongue out, towards Oliver’s cock, which was already glistening with precum.

“Goddammit, yes…” Oliver mumbled, smiling as he finally rested his head on the pillow, more than ready to succumb to the pleasure I was going to give him.

But as much as I wanted to recreate myself on him, and given that I’d assured him that I would repeat the same steps as I did on Noah, it was impossible. The spectacle I had put on with Noah’s cock had already pushed Oliver to the edge. If I were to repeat the same seductive dance with him, he would come in my mouth in less than a minute.

And I didn’t want that.

Oliver was more vocal than Noah, less inhibited in his desires. Louder. He welcomed me with complete abandonment.

He hadn’t yet fully engaged with the suction of my mouth when he strained against the handcuffs. As I lifted my head, I noticed that both he and Noah had their eyes closed and they were holding onto each other with their hands clasped together on the headboard.

How sweet.

When I pulled away from Oliver, I remained kneeled between them at the foot of the bed. They were covered in a layer of sweat, their flushed cheeks and erratic breaths emphasizing their captivity—they were tied to the bed, and they were mine.

I felt stupidly happy.

“That’s it? You’re not going to let us come?” Noah queried.

I shrugged, my hands on my knees.

“Maybe if you play your cards right…”

“You know we always do,” Oliver declared with a certain roughness in his voice, now tugging at the restraints.

“I’m going to release you,” I said to Noah, positioning myself over him and stretching my body so that my still covered chest hovered above his face. “But only if you promise not to pounce on me like a lion as soon as you’re free.”

In response to my warning, he playfully pretended to want to bite me, lifting his head and opening his mouth before closing his jaw. The gesture made the three of us laugh.

Releasing him, Noah’ didn’t lunge at me; instead, he grabbed my head to bring our lips together.

“One of us is still tied. This isn’t fair,” Oliver complained, tugging on the handcuffs for emphasis.

Raising an eyebrow with one of Noah’s hands still on my cheek, I retorted, “Don’t talk to me about what’s not fair when I spend half of the time tied to the bed and at your mercy.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what we should do now,” Noah interjected. “What do you plan to do about this, huh?” He asked, gesturing towards his reddened erection.

“I’ll take care of that,” Oliver declared, “if this feisty kitten decides to let me go.”

I muttered a playful ‘whiner’ as I moved to Oliver’s lap, unfastening the handcuffs, and letting them fall onto the bedside table next to the keys. In a swift movement, Oliver pushed me onto the bed, eliciting a small yelp from me. His hands swiftly went to my underwear, starting to pull them down.

“Are these new?” He noticed.

I nodded.

“This is fucking sexy. This color looks so good on you,” he complimented as he ironically slid down my panties, tossing them onto the floor. “I’m sure Noah is having the time of his life, aren’t you?”

Indeed, Noah’s eyes were roaming over my chest. Being a man who had a particular interest in the underwear I wore, he admired the details on the design of the lacy bra before leaning in to pull the fabric covering my left breast down. Then, he placed his mouth atop of the peak of my breast and licked.

A moan escaped my lips.

“Always so sweet…” he murmured against my skin, “and so responsive. It only adds to the pleasure.”

Yeah…

Just as with any of their touches, the sensation was intoxicating, and I didn’t want Noah to stop, but Oliver interrupted to insist my bra was unnecessary and I should be naked, always naked. Noah readily agreed, wasting no time in attaching his lips to my breasts again as soon as I was as naked as they were.

“I know she’s delicious, but I told you I’d take care of you,” Oliver reminded Noah, “so get on your back.”

With a pleased smile, Noah complied, kissing my lips one last time before laying down next to me.

“He doesn’t have to say please?” I teased, raising an eyebrow at Noah.

“Don’t be so jealous,” he said to me, extending an arm to grab my forearm. “Come here.”

I thought he wanted me to kiss him while Oli sucked him off, maybe cuddle him, and perhaps watch him as he came undone, but then he said, “Sit on my face.”

Even though it wouldn’t be the first time, the proposal always made me flush. Nonetheless, I couldn’t hide my excitement, a fact that Noah was quick to notice, a big grin spreading across his face as I shifted on the mattress.

“You love sitting on my face, don’t you, baby?”

I straddled Noah’s inked chest and leaned forward, feeling his hands grip my buttocks as he helped guide me.

“Wait a sec,” Oliver stopped us, causing Noah to glance from the side and above my thigh and prompting me to turn my head.

Oliver trotted towards the door, where Luna stood, undoubtedly confused by the scene before her.

“You shouldn’t see this, pretty girl,” Oliver said to her. “This one here is already corrupted, but you’re still a pure soul, so I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to close the door.”

Like the good girl she was, she didn’t say anything.

Oliver closed the door and took a moment to open one of the windows on the right side of the bedroom, given that the temperature was quickly escalating indoors.

Noah’s laughter rumbled against my thigh as he placed a kiss before refocusing his attention on me.

“Hold onto the headboard if you need to. Or pull at my hair, I don’t mind.”

I took a deep breath and gripped the headboard. I felt his breath between my legs. I closed my eyes momentarily to savor the sensation of his hands enveloping my thighs, pressing me down on him, and the anticipation of what was to come.

When I glanced down for a moment, I caught him softly murmuring a tender ‘I love you’ before his mouth found my center.

And I melted.

Already floating on cloud nine, Oliver kneeled at the edge of the bed and grabbed Noah’s ankles, pulling him towards him. In response, Noah tugged at my legs, prompting me to extend my arms so I could still brace myself against the headboard.

“What a fucking glorious view,” Oliver muttered, and I could only imagine. But my thoughts were quickly replaced when Noah’s lips and tongue worked fervently on my clit. By the way his fingers dug into my skin, I knew that Oliver finally had his mouth on him.

Even with a window open, the temperature in the room was rosing up steadily, matching the pace of my increasing heartbeat. Noah’s tongue moved with precision, expertly teasing and tantalizing me. He knew exactly how to play with me, using the tip of his nose to rub against my clit before letting his tongue snake out and wander between my folds.

As our moans intertwined, Noah’s movements intensified. His focus on me unwavering even as Oliver perpetuated a delicious torture on his cock, which caused a symphony of pleasure and curses to fill the air. The momentum kept building up, with Oli taking him deeper and deeper with every bobbing of his head and scrap of his teeth. Noah pressed me down harder to his face, and the pressure and suction on the spot between my legs was growing increasingly maddening.

It never led to madness because at some point Noah’s teeth trapped my clit in between and a sharp cry of pain escaped from my lips, breaking the haze of our pleasure.

The reason: Oliver had sucked his tip in a way that nearly made him lose his sanity. In response, Noah accidentally bit my clit.

“Baby. Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

His hands gripped my waist and pulled me down onto his chest, his eyes searching my face for signs of distress as I kept a hand between my legs, my eyes closed shut and my teeth scrapping my lower lip.

“What happened?” Oliver asked.

When Noah explained, Oliver burst into laughter, causing Noah to scold him before he shifted a bit to check my face again.

“Baby?”

“That was… not nice,” I managed to say, though my gaze softened as I opened my eyes and looked at Noah, his face adorned with pink swollen lips and traces of my arousal.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry, it wasn’t on purpose,” he apologized, his hands stroking my arms.

“It’s ok. I’ll be fine,” I reassured him.

I reached out to touch his cheek and wipe away some of my arousal from his chin. He looked so beautiful like this, though. But I was suddenly lifted from atop Noah’s body by Oliver’s strong hands.

“Let’s see what all this pretty boy’s fuss is about.” He laid me down on the divan by the large windows overlooking the lake. His chest was glistened with sweat, and his scent mingled with mine, surrounding me in an heady embrace.

I took a deep breath as Oliver spread my legs open and inspected me closely.

“She looks pretty fine to me,” he said.

“I’m okay,” I muttered, feeling a twinge of shyness at the way he was observing me.

Noah came to stand on my side. In all honesty, they were a bit terrifying hovering over me while I was laying down. They would have made me tremble if it wasn’t for Noah’s concerned face.

“She’s wet and… very hard,” Oliver noticed, running his thumb up my clit, causing me to bite my lip and inhale sharply.

Noah bent down, running a soft hand through my hair and kissing my forehead.

“Doll, tell Noah you’re okay, otherwise his erection is going to turn into a withered flower.” Oliver’s joke made Noah roll his eyes as he stood up.

Instead of reassuring him verbally, I lifted myself on my elbows and directed my attention to his still-hard cock. With my eyes locked on his, I Indulged in tasting the tip once again, teasing him with my tongue.

“You sure you’re okay?” He struggled to say, losing focus.

“I’ll be better when I have you in my mouth and Olive between my legs.”

His expression shifted from concern to disbelief and then amusement. Yeah, he still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact that he had me. He had me in every possible way. And he had Oliver, too. They both had me and I had them.

With one hand, I took Noah’s length into my mouth, pumping him until he groaned, his head falling back in a mix of pleasure and vulnerability. His hands remained clasped together behind his back, emphasizing his muscular form.

Meanwhile, Oliver’s lips trailed a path of kisses up my thigh. Usually he was one to nibble, but it quickly dawned on me that maybe he was concerned, too, about Noah accidentally biting me, and he opted for keeping his touch soft and gentle.

“Do you have any idea how fucking good you look when she’s blowing you?” Oliver’s words to Noah were a seductive whisper, who made the young one struggle to swallow under his intense gaze. “Next time we’ll get her on her knees, and you will stand before her, with a full-length mirror in front of you. You will see your reflection while she tortures you with that sweet hot mouth, and there I’ll be, right behind you,” Oliver murmured, planting kisses on my legs, his green eyes fixed on Noah as I continued to suck him off. His words weaved a spell around him, Noah’s throat tightening, leaving him momentarily breathless as a drop of sweat slid down his temple. “I’ll get my hands on that fucking tight ass of yours and give you whatever you ask for. How does that sound?”

A heavy breath suffocated Noah. His reaction prompted Oliver to laugh at how easily he got both of us in this state.

“Hold her head,” Oliver instructed Noah, displaying again that face that said ‘let’s get to work’.

Not that Noah wouldn’t have done it. They were so considerate that they even worried about my hair breaking if it got stuck under our mess of limbs or pillows or whatever that was around.

Noah’s hands found the back of my head. He moved my hair to the said and positioned himself closer to me so that my head was nearly resting atop his thigh. I lifted a hand to reach for his cock and stroke it as Oliver kissed my chest and dipped lower until he reached my navel. He stopped. He used his thumb to trace a circle around it, and reverently, he kissed it and licked it, fondling that area of skin and cherishing it as if it was his favorite part of my body.

I found myself gradually descending into the depths of subspace, utterly captivated by Oliver’s every move, unable to tear my gaze away from the ministrations he was performing on the skin of my stomach.

One of Noah’s hands found the side of my face and gently caressed my cheek.

“Do you like it when he does that?” His deep voice was soft, tender.

“Yes,” I managed to breathe out, my heart racing, my mind filled with cotton.

I couldn’t really describe the feeling. Noah was keeping me secured and comfortable against him while Oli pressed kisses on my lower tummy, which felt another level of intimate when they were placed on my navel.

“You love it when we’re all sweet and nice with you, don’t you?” Noah continued, trailing strands of hair behind my ear.

Oliver answered for me.

“She loves it.”

I mirrored Oliver’s grin of satisfaction.

My boys.

“But you like us feral when we’re inside of you,” Noah’s voice dropped, and it didn’t matter that we were already naked and touching each other: a shiver ran down my spine.

“She’s so receptive to everything we do or say,” Oliver remarked, some sort of amazement in his voice. “She’s fucking perfect for us, man.”

And they were perfect for me.

Oliver stepped back, standing up. He lifted my legs, while Noah extended his arms to reach for my ankles, spreading me open for Oliver. As Oli positioned himself at my entrance, he rubbed his cock between my folds, teasing me. Meanwhile, Noah was about to stretch back to retrieve a condom from the nightstand and pass it to Oliver when I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “I want to feel you. No barriers. Just your skin on mine.”

Oliver’s eyes turned a shade darker.

“What did a motherfucker like me ever did to deserve you?”

“If you have to ask that question maybe I’m not doing a good job at showing you how thankful I am for your love and affection…” I teased.

Oliver clicked his tongue and bent down to kiss me hard and passionate.

“Look at her,” he said then, directing his words to Noah. His voice tinged with desire. “So needy.”

The observation wasn’t a tease; it was a simple acknowledgment of the truth. I was indeed needy, overwhelmed with ecstasy at the realization that this was my life, my men, and that we were all totally happy and satisfied with each other, in every aspect possible.

Noah took hold of one of my wrists, securing my arm against his thigh, allowing me to use the other to his pleasure.

“She’s soaked, isn’t she?”

“A complete mess,” Oliver concluded, “which only makes… this… smoother,” he finished huskily as he slid his cock inside of me, one inch at a time.

The delicious stretch made me let out a moan from deep withing me and dig my nails into Noah’s thigh, seeking to anchor myself. I wriggled, trying to adjust to Oliver, yearning to feel him as deep as possible, to claim him as mine one more time. With a lift of my hips, I impaled myself on the last of his rigid length, gasping as he seared me with his heat.

Oliver eased back, teasing me with the almost withdrawal, each movement causing a fresh gasp to escape my lips, my moans growing louder with every thrust. Every nerve in my body tingled with awareness, every cell attuned to the rhythm of his movements as he pushed in and out.

“Faster, please.”

“Yeah,” Oliver roared in response, his hands firm on my hips as he guided me to his desired pace.

My entire body responded to him, just as it did to Noah’s whenever he was inside of me, performing the same intimate dance.

“Your mouths are wonderful and all that, but man,” Oliver’s voice was strained, “there’s nothing like being inside of her.”

“I know. I know…” Noah moaned as I stroked his cock and attempted another long lick the best I could, given my strenuous position.

It took him less than a few moments to gather himself and tell me not to stress my neck, but Oliver’s intensified thrusts stole my breath, making me scream in ecstasy.

“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged, his hands urging my thighs open as they trembled under the force of his movements and the intensity of the sensations cursing through my entire being. “Get all tight on me.”

Oliver looked breathtaking as he pounded into me, driving me closer to the edge. The colors of his tattoos appeared more vibrant, accentuated by the sweat covering his body. When I glanced up, I found Noah smiling at the sight, as if he cherished every moment of Oliver taking me to the brink.

His hand found my left breasts and squeezed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re about to come,” his voice trailed off as his lips found my ear. “I never thought I would enjoy the sight of another man burying his dick deep inside of you, but seeing Oli fuck you does things to me.”

“Noah,” I whimpered in response.

“Yeah, princess. I know exactly what you need.” His hand traveled up to my neck. When his fingers tightened around it just the right amount to give me a new type of high, I thought I could die right there right then. “Is he fucking you good, kitten? Talk to me, come on.” His grip eased just a bit, enough to allow me to answer.

“Yes. God, yes. It’s so good. Please, more. I want more. Everything.”

“You’re like a fucking renaissance painting,” Oliver said amid his struggle to form words, his breath heavy with desire, his body covered glistening. “Both of you naked, disheveled, you in Noah’s arms, holding onto him, his hand around your neck… He’s fucking thrilled to see you coming undone while you’re drowning in the pleasure I give you.”

When Oliver slowed his movements to get one knee on the divan and leaned forward, —to pull Noah into a kiss— I whined for not being able to move and share that kiss with them. I was trapped underneath the cage of their bodies, but oh if this wasn’t a sight to behold. I felt blessed and completed. We were a mess of love and lust and passion, and we couldn’t get enough of each other.

“Take her for a ride,” Oliver offered Noah, pulling away from me. “I can’t stop looking at that pretty mouth and those swollen pink lips and I’m going to die if I don’t get my cock in her mouth in the next ten seconds.”

In less than ten seconds indeed, Oliver maneuvered me onto my hands and knees on the divan. I wasn’t sure if my limbs would hold me, but I had no other choice. Noah stood behind me, bending to shower kisses on my shoulders, back, and butt, while Oliver circled to stand in front of me, his gaze just as hungry. As he indicated for me to open my mouth, I complied because I was, after all, a good girl. But first I had to trace his stomach with my tongue, licking every tattooed inch of his torso and savoring the electricity of his body. Only when I reached the beginning of his happy trail, I put him in my mouth.

The intensity in his eyes mirrored that of a predator, hungry and primal.

His weight on my tongue was deliciously overwhelming.

“The sight of you taking me like this always drives me insane,” Oliver confessed, his hands tangling in my hair. “But you know what tops it? Seeing Noah take you from behind.”

As if his words worked magic, Noah slid inside of me, his hands gripping my hips as he pressed against me. “Kitten…” he murmured, holding himself back. “Fuck. You’re damn sure you don’t want a condom on?”

I shook my head as best I could, for Oliver was occupying every corner of my mouth and cancelling my ability to speak.

“Look at him, baby,” Oliver took his cock out of my mouth so that I could look back over my shoulder. I couldn’t really maneuver as much as I would have liked to, but it was enough to see Noah’s contorted face of pleasure, his struggling smile filled with adoration and desire.

His thrusting started a second after, his movements becoming more fervent with very passing minute, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge of bliss.

“You should see his face, baby,” Oliver said to me, holding my chin, “the way he’s pulling his hair back because you’re taking him to the edge. I’m not sure what to do, man,” his last words were directed to Noah. “I’m torn between taking your place and finish her off, and taking you and making you scream until you can’t sing until your next life.”

“Fuck, man. Shut up. I won’t last long,” was Noah’s reply.

As Oliver’s hoarse laughter reverberated in my ears and Noah’s powerful thrusts shook my entire body, I summoned the last reserves of my strength to reach out and grasp Oliver’s cock. With trembling fingers, I guided it back into my eager mouth. I sucked him off for a long minute, tracing with the tip of my tongue the thick veins protruding from his length, licking the top as if it was candy.

Noah’s next thrust was hard and bordering on pain, but pleasurable all the same. I let go of Oliver to scream, the sound ripping through my vocal cords. Noah’s hands found my hair and he gathered all the messy strands to pull me towards him, tilting my head back until I was left with no choice but to stare at Oliver with watery eyes, my chin up and my lips parted, the saliva dripping from the corner quickly wiped away by Oliver’s thumb. In that moment, I felt completely exposed, vulnerable yet exhilarated by the raw intensity of the experience.

“Fuck,” Noah groaned.

“Yes,” Oliver roared in return, grabbing my face with a hand and pressing his fingers into my cheeks. “You look so beautiful on all fours, letting Noah fuck you hard and deep. You’re so, so good for us, doll. And we love you so fucking much, you know that, right? We fucking adore the good girl that you are.”

I was a wreck. There was nothing I could do. I was done for. My heart was going to explode and so was the rest of my body.

Despite my helplessness, a prideful smile played on my lips, and Oliver kissed me through it, his touch a blend of amusement, desire, and profound love.

“Noah, you should definitely see her like this. She can’t stop smiling while you fuck her. It doesn’t get any better than this. We’re some lucky bastards.”

Noah’s response came amidst his relentless thrusts, his words spoken with conviction and tenderness. Leaning over me, he enveloped me in a hug, his warm breath against my ear, one of his hands sliding down to my clit. “You’re perfect for us, kitten, so take what we give you, yeah? We’re all yours. Everything we have to offer is for you.”

I was surrounded by their love and desire. I felt truly cherished and consumed by ecstasy. I wasn’t going to last much longer, and my orgasm was going to swallow me whole.

The air was thick with the scent of our worked-out bodies. Our desperate and raw moans filling the room, echoing off the walls as every nerve in my body ignited, higher, harder. Each touch, each thrust, pushed me to the brink. Every tingling sensation escalating, every sensation in every inch of my body was constantly awakened and pushed to the edge of feeling. My entire body tingled, the electrifying sensation turning into ache that crazily enough kept me thrusting back against Noah in pleas for more as I welcomed Oliver’s hot and frenzied release inside of my mouth, driving me to arch my back and press into Noah’s body, yearning for his release, too.

I wanted it all.

In the end, I didn’t even need much more than Noah’s movements and Oliver’s words. Their tempo had been a tortuous dance that had promised to send me over the edge, and I was just

about

fall

right

over

it.

“Eyes on me,” Oliver commanded, grabbing my jaw again. “I want you looking at me when Noah makes you come.”

“Come on, baby,” Noah urged. “It’s right there. Just right,” one more thrust, “there.”

It was there, and I took it with screams and trembles until my head fell on the divan, my body unable to hold itself, my legs spasming as Noah’s growls filled my ears and his cum spilled over my buttcheeks and lower back.

A day later — Early morning

Noah's laughter shook his body, causing a ripple effect that had me giggling and squirming against his chest, where I was lying diagonally with my hand extended towards Oliver.

Oliver was sleeping face down. He had drifted off after a morning session of lovemaking in which Noah had taken me while I slept in his arms and Oliver had taken him—a chain reaction that had us falling one after another like a line of dominoes.

Noah and I hadn't been able to fall back asleep, and now we laid intertwined in each other’s nakedness while Oliver’s breathing drifted intermittently above our hushed voices.

Being in a playful mood, Noah and I decided to tease Oliver, making comments about how much he snored. Oliver responded with a muffled grunt into his pillow.

Later, I found myself idly toying with Oliver’s curls until he grunted again and shifted away from us, turning his head in the opposite direction. That’s when my eyes fell on his nipples, and that’s where I teased him next.

Oliver swatted my hand and opened one eye. “Stop,” he ordered. “Why don’t you annoy your other boyfriend? That’s why there’s two of us.”

I hummed in disappointment and then sighed as I rested my head on Noah’s chest, still looking at Oliver’s sleeping face for a few moments. The softness of his features eased my spontaneous frustration, the comforting touch of Noah’s hand running through my hair also helping.

“Did you sleep well?” Noah asked with a soft voice, careful not to disturb Oliver too much.

“Hmm,” I murmured, nodding as I rubbed my head against his chest. Shifting, I turned to lift my head and look at him. “You?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “except for the time I had to get up to pee and the damn doll kept staring at me until I disappeared into the bathroom.” His finger pointed towards the boxed Tiffany on top of one of the drawers in the room, likely placed there by Oliver on purpose.

“So, Oli didn’t get up to walk hand in hand with you, huh?” I teased.

“Does he really look like he would get up in the middle of the night to ease my fears? He’s totally passed out,” he remarked.

“Not really,” Oliver chimed in from his pillow. “Not anymore, anyway, but I’m knackered.”

“Knackered,” Noah repeated, a hint of confusion in his tone. My fingers played with his brown strands of hair. The haircut he wore these days was my favorite. “What the hell does that even mean, dude?”

I giggled softly.

“You should know by now, love,” Oliver added, still speaking with closed eyes, one hand resting beneath the pillow.

“Worn out, tired,” I whispered to Noah. Then, I leaned in to straddle him and planted a kiss on his jaw, feeling the stubble under my lips. He’d probably decide to shave today, and I couldn’t wait to watch him, maybe even Oliver, too, standing together in front of the bathroom mirror with blades in hand. There was something incredibly attractive about watching not just one, but two men shaving.

I sighed loudly, feeling like I was still in a dream.

My lips traced the curve of Noah’s jaw until I playfully nibbled on his earlobe. Sensing my playful vibes, he turned my face towards him and planted a gentle kiss on my lips, his eyes locking onto mine with intensity.

“You were fantastic yesterday morning.”

His words made my cheeks flush.

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a warm glow spread through me.

“You know…” he began, “I didn’t want to fall in love with you,” his tone turned somber as his fingers tucked strands of hair behind my ear. “During those months when we were just having fun and having sex every so often… I was terrified of what I was feeling every time I had you in my bed, in my arms, and I told myself I couldn’t afford to fall in love with you; that I was not good for you. By the time I decided I had to stop fucking you, I realized I had fallen in hard long ago,” he took a deep breath, his index finger tracing the line of my nose. “Now, I don’t regret a single minute I’ve spent with you, any of the steps that have brought us here. And I wouldn’t want things to be any other way. You, me, Oliver. Sex, love, arguments; the sun, and the rain. Everything. I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything in the world.”

His words melted my heart, and tears welled up in my eyes.

Before they could spill over, Oliver’s voice cut through our moment of tender honesty.

“You two are really cute, seriously.”

Noah relaxed with resignation, rolling his eyes. I slapped Oliver’s bare shoulder, but my body sought his with desperation when I saw his beautiful eyes shine under the morning light streaming in through the windows, accompanied by his radiant smile.

I had everything anyone could ever ask for.

We left the warmth of the bed nearly an hour later, after a tickling match and some cuddling.

I took longer in the shower that morning, thoughts of the day ahead and memories of the previous day’s activities mingled with the steam around me. I pulled my hair up in a bun in front of the dresser, and with my bikini on and a well-worn t-shirt that I had long since taken ownership of (and could no longer remember if it had belonged to Oliver or Noah), I walked into the bright openness of the kitchen and went straight to make myself a cup of iced green tea.

Through one of the windows, I spotted Oliver and Noah playing outside with Luna.

After pulling a few ice cubes out of the freezer, Noah's loud laughter drifted into the house through the door and open windows. I caught sight of him doubled over with mirth, hands on his knees while Oliver, not far off, lay sprawled on the grass, laughing as Luna affectionately licked his face.

Witnessing their happiness never failed to reassure me that all was right in the world, in our world. The nights when Noah’s health was a concern seemed distant now, replaced by a sense of well-being and contentment. Any lingering doubts Oliver may have harbored about this relationship or his place within it had melted away. We were a team. We were bound to each other. They loved me, they loved each other, and I loved them.

An incoming call on Oliver's iPhone snapped me out of my trance, forcing me to draw my attention away from the window as I reached for the phone resting on the kitchen island.

Seeing Amelia’s name flashing on Oliver’s phone screen, the same real estate agent that had guided us through potential homes for our future together as a trio a few months ago, caught me off guard. Memories of our discussions about the charming two-story house in a serene Los Angeles neighborhood, close to the house Jack and his wife Sylvie had recently purchased after getting married, flooded back. Noah hadn't been very decisive about it; He had a preference for other neighborhoods. But the main problem was that the house I fell in love with was way out of our budget, so we had ruled it out. Then we decided to leave house hunting activities for another time, maybe after summer and after their crazy schedules turned less chaotic.

That’s why I didn't understand why Amelia was calling Oliver.

Nevertheless, I answered the call. Amelia’s warm greeting reminded me of our prior interactions. When I told her that Oliver couldn’t be put on at that time, she seemed pleased to speak with me instead.

She started talking about paperwork and payments, which left me baffled.

“As I indicated to Noah and Oliver, after receiving the missing paperwork and the main payment, we would have the keys available in a matter of a couple of weeks. So, I was calling to let you know that you can come by the office to pick up the keys to your new home at a time that works best for you.”

What paperwork? What payment?

The keys to my new home?

I had no clue what she was talking about.

“Our new home?”

“Sure,” she didn’t catch my astonishment, how lost I was in this conversation. “The one with the spacious living room and with the garden in the back, in the cul-de-sac. I still remember your excitement when you saw that room upstairs and shared your plans of turning it into a library. That was a fantastic idea!”

I blinked, frowning even harder, and looked through the window for Oliver and Noah.

“The house Noah and Oliver revisited when you were working,” Amelia added.

It couldn't be.

Amelia repeated my name a couple of times when I didn't say anything.

I shook my head.

“Yes, yes, I'm here. Sure,” I forced myself to say, because I didn't know what else to say. “Um, we're on vacation right now. I guess when we get back next week we can stop by and pick up the keys.”

“Perfect. We've sent a copy of the signed papers to both Oliver's and Noah's email. If you have any questions or need anything else, please don't hesitate to give us a call.”

“No, of course. We will. Thank you.”

My hand was trembling as I placed the phone back on the counter. My mind was racing with thoughts, grappling with the implications of Amelia’s words—the sudden reality of a house, our house, in Los Angeles, already paid for.

In that moment of disorientation, a fresh morning breeze made its way into the house, followed by Oliver’s radiant presence and the sound of his laugh. Noah wasn’t far behind. They were dressed in their swimming trunks and simple white t-shirts, exuding a carefree energy and carrying with themselves the scent of nature, their hair moving swiftly with the wind.

They appeared almost ethereal, like angels descending into the room.

The morning light filtered through the windows as Oliver stretched his arms towards me in greeting, his graceful features illuminated momentarily before dropping at the sight of my expression.

“Hey. What’s with that face?”

“Did something happen?” Noah asked, sensing something amiss, too.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. “I just got off the phone with… Amelia,” my gaze flicked towards Oliver’s iPhone resting on the counter. “She said that we can drop by her office anytime to pick up the keys of the house.”

After a moment of silence, Noah cursed under his breath.

“Shit.”

Oliver took another moment to reply, his shoulders sagging as he licked his lips and placed a hand on his hip while sharing a quick concerned, disappointed look with Noah.

“You were not supposed to find out about the house until we were all in Los Angeles,” he admitted.

I frowned because there were no plans of being the three of together in los Angeles any time soon. That’s why we had planned this trip to Cumbria as soon as our days off coincided.

“We don’t even know when that’s going to be,” I said.

Considering their packed schedules, this short vacation was the only opportunity for the three of us to be together before our commitments to work pulled us apart again and Noah and Oliver drowned themselves in work. I also had to return to my job. I wished I could be on holiday for longer, but unfortunately, the demands of everyday life kept me tied to my mundane job in L.A.

“Yes, we do,” Oliver corrected. “I’m flying with you and Noah back to L.A. next week.” He allowed me a moment to take it all in. His words carried a mixture of excitement and anticipation that was contagious, but my confusion and disbelief at the recent revelation were bigger. “I have a month off, and I planned on spending it with you two so that we could go through the moving-in process together and get everything sorted before I have to come back here for work. We thought that a month would be time enough to work on whatever needs fixing in the house and maybe make some changes. Painting the walls, work on the garden, converting that room with the garden-facing windows into the studio you mentioned wanting, and…”

“Wait. Wait, slow down,” I interjected, raising a hand and feeling a whirlwind of emotions stirring inside me. “This is… I don’t understand.”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Noah suggested.

Taking his cue, I sank into the soft cushions of the sofa, folding my legs beneath me. Oliver settled beside me while Noah remained standing, always unaware of the effect his long frame had on everybody else, especially on those who were sitting. But I could feel his nervous energy as he paced a little. However, despite both their worries, there was an undeniable spark of mischief crossing their expressions every other second.

“I thought you had work to do because you’re already over a year delayed on the release of Bring Me’s new album, and you,” I turned to Noah,” your schedule for next month is packed with photoshoots, interviews, and other meetings and stuff.”

“Well, yeah,” Noah acknowledged, “but one more month isn’t going to hurt anybody, is it?”

“I’m sure your fans will have something to say about it,” I chided them lightly.

“We all have personal matters to attend, so if things have to get postponed, they get postponed. Period,” he concluded. “This is more important.”

This. Oliver, me, him.

“And it’ll be just a month, so that we can finally settle down,” Oliver added, his voice filled with determination and hope.

The phrase ‘settle down’ echoed in my mind, confirming that this was not a joke. I blinked repeatedly.

“So… Did you really— You bought a house?”

“We bought you a house, yeah,” Noah confirmed with a smile, his brown beautiful eyes reflecting the depth of his affection.

A sarcastic laugh escaped my lips, disbelief mingling with gratitude.

“You don’t just buy a house like that. Especially not that house. It was way out of our budget and…”

“We made some adjustment to the budget,” Oliver clarified, his tone firm yet gentle. He draped an arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers finding a lose lock of my hair. “You really loved that house when we visited it a few months ago, and we thought… after everything you’ve done for us…”

“What have I done for you?” I asked, feeling so utterly overwhelmed and undeserving of this.

“Doll, are you kidding?” Oliver said, a hint of offense creeping into his voice. “You have to start giving more credit to yourself or we’re going to have a problem here.”

Ignoring his scold, and unable to shake off the sensations flooding me, I repeated, “You didn’t buy me a house.”

“Okay, put it as you wish because technically, it’s our house now,” Noah said. “It’s for the three of us, so, if it sounds better to you, we bought us a house.”

I had a knot in my throat and butterflies in my stomach.

“But I didn’t… I couldn’t… I can’t afford it,” I finally protested, my voice trailing off.

“Who said you have to pay anything? This is a gift from us to you, because we love you and we want to have a place to call our own,” Oliver silenced my objections with a finger. “You threw a huge birthday party for me last November, Jurassic Park-themed,” he continued, a soft smile tugging at his lips at the memory. It had, in fact, required weeks of work to set everything up as I wished. Oliver was a fanatic of the Jurassic Park movies, and I thought it a great idea to celebrate his 38th birthday with dinosaur animatronics and a whole venue decorated as if it was a jungle. “And you were the one who managed to convince Nicholas and Jolly not to prepare anything for Noah’s birthday because he hates celebrating it. Instead, you took him to an escape room, then out for Mexican food, and finally to see the stars from Hollywood Hills because sometimes he’s soppy like that.”

Noah giggled at his comment, his eyes sparkling. The honesty and warmth of their words enveloped me, dispelling any doubts.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be going to bed alone,” Oliver continued, “thinking that I’m too much of a weirdo for someone to love me. And Noah would probably be locked in the studio, ignoring the growing headache in that big head of his.”

Noah responded to his comment by punching him in the shoulder, but Oliver’s response was to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, then gazing deeply into his eyes before turning his attention back to me.

“You love me despite all my bullshit,” Oliver said. “You’ve given me a reason to find the purpose that was missing in my life. You brought Noah into my life.”

“You brought the three of us together, baby,” Noah added with a soft smile.

“We would be a train wreck without you, so the least we could do was to get you the house of your dreams,” Oliver concluded.

At this point, tears streamed down my face, my whimpers mixing with laughter of joy. The overwhelming love and appreciation that filled the room leaving me breathless with emotion.

“You also bought me that really expensive replica of Tiffany Valentine” I commented. “How much more money are you planning of spending on me?”

“Our entire bank accounts if that’d make you happy,” Oliver answered, pursing his lips to show that that was the least of his concerns.

“You know money is not what makes me happy,” I answered, shaking my head. “I just care about being with you, building a life out of moments like the ones we’re spending here.”

“Then, there’s no point for this talk,” he added. “We got a house. We’re moving into our new place next week.”

“We’ll sleep in mattresses on the floor until you select the furniture you want for the bedroom. We’ll let you choose,” Noah announced.

“Oh, my God.” Reality sank in. Noah crouched down in front of me to wipe the tears for my face. “Okay,” I whispered to myself. “You bought a house. We have a house. This is nuts. It’ll take me a while to process it. I have to tell Jack; he’s going to be strangely happy about this. He’s going to give you both a pat on the back and finally be totally convinced that you love me for something more than just my pussy,” I joked

“Already did,” Oliver said.

I frowned, realization dawning on me.

“Don’t tell me Jack already knew about this.”

Both nodded, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to just wrap them both in my arms or throw a pillow to wipe the grins on their faces. They had this planned all along…

“You have to promise me something,” I said, turning serious.

“You name it,” Noah said.

“What is it?” Oliver asked.

“You’re going to quit this bad habit of making decisions without me.”

Even if I always benefit from those.

“Oh, baby, but you love our bad habits.”

And it had been far too long since I had willingly fallen down the abyss of those.

Well, this is the end, but not the last time you'll be reading about them. I have a second bonus scene pending to post which I haven't finished yet. It takes place between BONUS SCENE I and THE EPILOGUE, and it focuses on the reader's brother's engagement party. There are some hints at what transpired during that evening in this epilogue, did you catch them? 🤭

And again, thank you so much to every single one of you that took the time to read this, reblog, and comment. It's been a wild ride.

#noah sebastian #oliver sykes #noah sebastian x oliver sykes #bad omens #bmth #bring me the horizon #oli sykes #noah sebastian fic #oliver sykes fic #noah sebastian fanfic #oliver sykes fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bmth fanfiction #oliver sykes x reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x you #oliver sykes x you

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wordsintheatmosphere · 8 years ago

Text

Room for Two

Series: Persona 5 Pairing: Akira/Mishima Rating: G Summary:

The hotel bed is only meant for one, but Akira finds ways to make it work.

Tags: Hawaii trip, established relationship, canon setting, fluff

When Mishima invites him to share a hotel room in Hawaii, he doesn’t think twice before agreeing.

It makes sense, after all; he can only room with a guy in his class, and aside from the fact that they are dating, Mishima is the only guy who will talk to him in the first place. Kawakami looks relieved at how quickly he finds a roommate, presumably because she knows just how difficult it is for anyone to want to stay in a room with a guy who has a criminal record. She eyes Mishima briefly before writing their names down on the form, with a little more hurry than is necessary. Perhaps she’s worried that Mishima will change his mind in the time it takes her to register their room, and the thought makes Akira smile. If only she knew.

That’s why it comes as a shock to him when he enters the room with Mishima and the reality finally sinks in. It’s ironic how he had spent a brief moment reflecting on their relationship and has only now realized that he will indeed be rooming alone with his boyfriend, together, in the dark. The casual way Mishima had asked him to share a room made it feel like it isn’t a big deal, but when the door closes behind him the room suddenly turns into a private space for two. He looks at Mishima standing in the small room and his pulse quickens.

It doesn’t take long for Mishima to catch on either. At first he mutters about the fatigue from the flight, where they should store their luggage, how small the room is. When he looks at the two beds, he stops in the middle of his sentence and a slow realization dawns on his face. So he, too, hadn’t quite realized the full reality of rooming alone with Akira until now. At least they are now on the same page, Akira thinks, and it’s a little reassuring to know that he isn’t the only one thinking about these things.

The sudden silence has become unbearably awkward, and Akira gathers his nerves and stands next to Mishima. “Yuuki,” he starts, slow and careful as not to startle, but then Mishima immediately jumps back at the sound of his name.

“Oh, uh,” Mishima stammers as he grabs at his pocket, pulling out his phone like he found a lifeline, “by the way, did you know the polls have started for the phansite?”

The topic change doesn’t surprise Akira in the slightest, and he lets Mishima tell him in anxiously quick words how the phansite is doing. Mishima seats himself on the other bed, his body rigid and eyes glued to his phone, the words pouring out of him with frazzled energy. Akira listens, chimes in with occasional questions, but when Mishima talks himself into a circle he finally interrupts.

“Yuuki, that’s great to hear. But right now we’re on a trip.”

Mishima falls silent then, but his grip doesn’t loosen on his phone. Finally he whispers, “I just forgot we will actually be alone. You know, like this.”

“Me too,” Akira confesses, and Mishima meets his eyes for the first time since they’ve entered the room. They grin shyly at each other, and then burst into quiet laughter. Akira is relieved to see Mishima’s body relax, even if only a little.

“Well, shall we sleep? The flight was pretty uncomfortable.” Akira climbs into his bed, and Mishima looks relieved at his suggestion. When Mishima is comfortably nestled in his bed, Akira turns off the lights. The room plunges into darkness, but a nervous energy lingers in the air. He stares into the dark, and the silence tells him Mishima is doing the same.

He isn’t the type to let an opportunity slip by him, and this is an opportunity he will not have again. He listens carefully, and when he doesn’t hear the telltale signs of sleep from the other side of the room, he takes his chances. “Yuuki,” he says tentatively, “is it okay if I join you?”

He hears a slight rustling in response, and when Mishima finally answers his voice is pitched with nervousness. “Uh, like in my bed?”

Akira smiles at the question. “Yes.”

“Oh.” A few minutes pass by, and just when Akira wonders if his boyfriend has forgotten to answer, “Sure, okay.”

His heart is beating hard in his chest now, and he climbs out of his sheets and slips into Mishima’s bed. He feels Mishima roll over to make space for him, a fruitless effort since the bed is only meant for one, but Akira slides in anyway, closes the space between them. The small bed forces their bodies to press together, him against Mishima’s back, and he is relieved when Mishima doesn’t flinch at the contact. “May I hold you?” he asks, and it’s a bold question when he has been allowed this much already. Mishima hesitates, his body tensing for a moment before he carefully turns around. Their eyes find each other, adjusted to the unfamiliar darkness of the room.

“Alright,” Mishima says, and he nervously smiles. “But, uh, don’t try anything weird, okay? If you try to tickle me, I’ll kick you straight out of this room.”

“No tickling. It’s a deal,” Akira says in his most solemn tone, and he curls his arms around Mishima’s waist and pulls him close. Mishima fits small and warm against him, and Akira presses his face into Mishima’s hair and breathes in the familiar scent of his shampoo. A few moments later he feels a pair of arms circle him too, shy but sure. They lie wrapped in each other’s warmth, listening to the sounds of their breaths and their own beating hearts. This is nice, Akira thinks, and then once more, aloud. “This is nice.”

Mishima stirs in his arms. “I move in my sleep,” Mishima mumbles, and honestly Akira does not mind even if he ends up being kicked off the bed as long as he can keep holding Mishima like this. It isn’t long until he falls asleep, basking in the comfortable warmth of his boyfriend pressed against him. When he wakes up the next morning to Mishima nuzzling his neck in his sleep, he can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He is sore from sleeping in the same position all night, squashed on a tiny bed meant for one, but he can definitely get used to this.

Unfortunately, things do not work out the way he’d hoped. He is taken by surprise by Yusuke’s sudden appearance and ends up being swept along for the ride, and he loses sight of Mishima for the whole day. When he comes back to his room, he finds Mishima already on his phone and busy working on the phansite.

“Don’t tell me this is what you’ve been doing all day,” Akira says, but he already knows the answer.

“Well, I haven’t had the time to do any maintenance lately, and you guys have been really popular.” Mishima looks up after a while, his eyes tired but satisfied. “The posts have been blowing up, even now. There’s a lot of work to do.”

He launches into an update of the new polls he implemented, about the sudden rise in rankings, but Akira is only half listening. Akira knows of his boyfriend’s need to feel useful, the satisfaction he finds in helping the only way he can, but even so he can’t help but feel dismayed that Mishima has wasted his time in Hawaii trying to be useful to him.

“Yuuki,” he says, putting his hand on Mishima’s phone and firmly pressing it down. “You’re in Hawaii. Don’t worry about the phansite for now.”

Mishima opens his mouth in objection, but Akira braces an arm on the back of the chair and leans down. Their lips touch, Mishima’s mouth still slightly parted, and when Akira pulls back Mishima stares at him with stunned surprise.

“I would rather spend some time with you right now. What about you?” he drops his voice low, and just as expected, Mishima’s cheeks immediately flush a lovely shade of red.

“That’s…that’s not a fair question.” After a moment of hesitation, Mishima drops his phone on the table and reaches for him, timid but expectant, and he grasps Akira’s jacket and tugs him down. Just as they lean in for another kiss, a knock on their door interrupts them.

“What’s up?”

The force of Mishima’s shove takes Akira by surprise, and he stumbles backwards and catches himself on the bed before he falls. “Sorry! Sorry,” Mishima hisses, eyes wide with worry and already on his feet, “t-that surprised me.”

The knock continues, and Akira inwardly groans. The mood had been perfect before and Mishima had even been a little more daring than usual, but the interruption has snapped them out of it and now he’s a little irritable. “It’s Ryuji,” he mutters, “let’s not answer and maybe he’ll think we’re not here.”

“We can’t do that! Besides, it’s late. There isn’t anywhere else we’re supposed to be.” Mishima pats himself all over like as if the evidence of their moment of intimacy has somehow stained him, and he walks over to the door in awkward, guilty strides.

Ryuji comes in, none the wiser, and Akira tries desperately not to feel put off by Ryuji needing a place to stay. He has just resigned himself to having Ryuji around for the night when Ann comes knocking too. “I can’t get back in my room!” she says indignantly, and Akira pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.

“There are only two beds, even if someone sleeps on the sofa,” Mishima says, and Ryuji frowns.

“One of us is gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Akira snaps his head up at that. “No need for that,” he says, “I’ll share Mishima’s bed.”

They all turn their gazes on him, Mishima’s mouth falling open like a fish. “Huh?” Ann crosses her arms, shooting a dubious look at the beds. “These are small beds. You’re going to have trouble fitting there together.”

“No, we fit fine,” Akira says without a second thought, too quickly and too certain. Ryuji and Ann fall silent, their eyebrows rising high.

“H-he means, that’s what he thinks. Because I’m small!” Mishima blurts out, and fires a look at Akira. Don’t say anymore, I’m begging you, his eyes say, and Akira snaps his mouth shut before he makes matters worse.

“Oh, I see. Dude, you sure surprised me there.” Ryuji settles himself on the sofa, examining Mishima. “Well, now that you mention it, you are pretty small.” Mishima lets out a forced laugh and looks at the floor.

“I guess it comes in handy,” he mumbles, and Akira has to pinch his leg to stop himself from saying I like you just the way you are.

“I don’t know, I still think it’ll be uncomfortable.” Ann worriedly looks at Mishima. “Don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’ll be fine, I think.” Mishima glances at Akira, his gaze shy but meaningful. “The bed is big enough. It won’t be comfortable, but we’ll fit. What do you think?”

Of course Akira agrees, this time making sure his voice doesn’t give him away. When the time for sleep comes, Mishima excuses himself to the bathroom. Akira listens to his friends chat about various things, feeling a little better. This is nice too, he thinks. When the topic turns to his taste in women, he hesitates. It feels wrong to keep something so important to him as a secret from the friends he trusts his life with, but he knows Mishima isn’t ready yet to let them know.

“I don’t have a type,” he finally settles on, praying that Mishima isn’t listening from the bathroom. “I think if I like someone, that’s the person I’m going to like, with or without a type.”

Their conversation is interrupted by Mishima’s groan, and it takes them a few minutes to figure out what’s wrong. “He shouldn’t have drunk the tap water,” Ryuji grumbles as they wait for medicine at the front desk, but Akira is far too concerned to listen. Afterwards when Ann and Ryuji have fallen asleep, he wraps an arm around Mishima’s waist.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, and Mishima laughs weakly.

“I got nervous,” he answers, and though he doesn’t turn around he laces his fingers with Akira’s. “Thanks for getting the medicine.”

They fall silent for a while, listening to the sounds of Ryuji’s snoring and Ann’s deep breathing. “So, no type, huh?” Mishima says suddenly, his voice so quiet that Akira has to strain to hear. “How very diplomatic of you.”

“I like you, you know.” Akira squeezes Mishima tighter, but hurriedly loosens his grip at the sound of Mishima’s pained grunt. “Sorry. But I mean it. You’re my type.”

“You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles at that. “And what about you, Yuuki? What about your type?”

“I have better taste than you. Far better.” Mishima pauses, and then continues. “It’s you, you know?”

Gods, it’s so stupid of him to fall for that, but the pounding in his chest almost hurts. He presses a quiet kiss on the curve of Mishima’s shoulder. “Let’s spend time together tomorrow,” he says, “just the two of us.” Mishima squeezes his fingers in reply.

But things aren’t going to work out on the last day either, Akira quickly discovers.

Ryuji gets a hold of them before they can slip out together, and in his determination to make memories in Hawaii, Mishima gets dragged off with him. Unwilling to lose even a bit of time with Mishima, Akira grudgingly agrees to tag along with Ryuji’s plan to pick up girls. At first the two of them are satisfied with watching Ryuji from a safe distance, but it isn’t long before Ryuji urges them to try. There is a strange, tight knot in Akira’s stomach as he watches Mishima attempt to talk to the scantily-clad girls, a strange tightness that doesn’t leave him for the whole day afterwards. When it’s his turn to try, he can feel Mishima’s gaze on his back as he talks to the women. Damn it, this isn’t what he wants at all, and his disinterest shows in his lackluster conversation.

“Try harder next time,” the women tell him before they leave, put off by his obvious half-hearted attempt, and Ryuji pats him on the back reassuringly.

“It’s okay, man. Let’s try again.”

I’d much rather not actually, Akira thinks, and glances at Mishima. His boyfriend seems determined to stare at the ground with furrowed brows, and Akira swallows the tightness in his throat.

Their abject failure comes as a relief, even if he does feel a little bad for Ryuji. His biggest concern is Mishima, who has grown increasingly sullen and silent as the day went on. The tightness he feels in his stomach gives him an idea of how Mishima is feeling too, and he can’t help but feel guilty as they head back to their room together.

When they are alone, there is an awkward silence that hangs heavy around them. “Yuuki,” Akira starts, “you know I didn’t—”

“I know. Don’t worry about it,” Mishima interrupts, not meeting Akira’s eyes. “Anyway, we need to wake up early tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”

He climbs into his bed and pulls the blankets above his head, and somehow Akira gets the feeling that Mishima wants to be left alone for tonight. For the first time since the trip started, Akira gets into his own bed for good and switches off the lights.

The tightness in his stomach doesn’t ease, and when he shuts his eyes all he can think about is Mishima talking to those women on the beach, Mishima’s determined gaze on the floor, Mishima’s eyes on his back, Mishima’s quiet voice. “I really just wanted to be alone with you,” he whispers out loud, more to himself than anything.

There is no response, and Akira releases a quiet sigh. A long while passes, and he is about to drift to sleep when he suddenly feels his blanket lifting. He jerks awake in a hurry, disoriented and alarmed, but when Mishima slides in next to him his heart leaps.

“Move over,” Mishima mumbles, and he obeys. A small, warm and familiar body presses against him, and Akira doesn’t dare speak in case he changes Mishima’s mind. They lie together in tense silence, and then Mishima finally speaks. “I really wanted to be alone with you too.”

Akira smiles, and he gains the courage to wrap his arms around the smaller boy without the fear of chasing him off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go along with the plan, but Ryuji was so…”

“Desperate?” Mishima laughs quietly, and Akira’s heart squeezes at the sound. “I know. I felt bad for him too. But man, it wasn’t easy watching you pick up girls.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. You didn’t seem into it anyway. Which is good, you know, because I was right there watching.”

“I’m not interested in them.” Akira traces a kiss on Mishima’s forehead, warm and affectionate. “I’m interested in you.”

“I know. I’m your type, right?” Mishima looks up and gives him a small, shy smile. “You have terrible taste.”

Akira smiles slow, and he teases a lock of Mishima’s hair in between his fingers. “Bold, aren’t you,” he says, his tone low and seductive now, “for a person who is exactly my type, sliding into my bed and into my arms at this hour of the night.”

Mishima’s eyes widen at the change in his voice, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. Akira traces his thumb over the bottom of Mishima’s lip, their eyes locked together, and Mishima swallows thickly. “Uh,” he manages to say, “what about sleep?”

Akira hooks a finger under Mishima’s chin, lifts his face, and kisses him deep. Mishima shivers at his touch, and his fingers grip Akira’s pajama shirt. When their lips part, the dazed look on Mishima’s face is almost unfair. There is no way he will be able to sleep tonight. “I was jealous too, you know,” Akira murmurs against Mishima’s mouth. “It wasn’t easy for me to watch you pick up girls either.”

“Oh,” Mishima answers dumbly, still lost in the sensation of their kiss, “uhm, sorry about that.” It’s a half-hearted apology because his mind is elsewhere, but Akira decides to accept it anyway. He pulls Mishima back against him, fits their bodies together, and closes his eyes. Mishima’s warmth softens the tension in his body, soothes the tightness in his stomach, and yet it leaves an ache in his heart.

“I like you.” He waits, and when he doesn’t hear a reply he continues. “Call it terrible taste, but I know the way you make me feel.”

A few moments later, he feels a kiss press against his jaw. His eyes fly open at the unexpected kiss, but Mishima has already buried his face into his chest. “Thanks,” Mishima says. When he speaks again, his voice sounds weak, vulnerable, and yet certain. “I like you too.”

Akira’s breath catches in his throat. He knows, of course, that Mishima likes him, but it’s the first time he’s ever heard his boyfriend say it aloud. The ache in his heart grows stronger, and it hurts a little but it feels somewhat warm. Damn it, there is definitely no way he will be able to sleep tonight.

Things didn’t work out quite the way he’d wanted them to, he thinks as he holds Mishima close, but this is indeed a trip he will never forget.

#persona 5 #shuyuu #yuuki mishima #mishima yuuki #akira kurusu #room for two #fic #this took a long time in the making #because i had the idea but had no idea how to get around to writing it #akira fights me tooth and nail every time i attempted his pov #but this time it worked out nicely!#i think #sorry if this has already been written before #i haven't had the chance to check on existing fics lately #:')#if this already exists forgive me and accept another?

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