Threesome
In love, as I am when I lay with you
I think of him, I think of him
-- Lady Gaga, Sexxx Dreams
The only driving force stronger than every voice in his head was his curiosity. No matter how petrified he was about all the things that could go wrong tonight or how worried he was for his own safety, the urge to know what his friends had in store pushed him out of his apartment and into the tunnels anyway.
It was important to note, however, that while he didn’t trust men topping him, something about Hwan and Marquis just felt trustworthy. They were in a relationship, which meant that a certain level of trust already existed. The assumption that every couple could be trusted simply because they trusted each other wasn’t his train of thought, though; it was the fact that he knew these guys prior to any engagements of this sort. He didn’t know them well, but he knew them enough to garner the courage necessary to see this night through, excited despite the fear.
The plan was for all three of them to do this in Hwan’s place, since he was the only one who lived by himself. Quite a feat really, even if his parents lived just across the hall. It didn’t matter; he still lived alone. His address was in Moorgate, the station where he’d been drinking with his friends last night, the one way too far for Theodore to walk to. They said they’d pick him up at Atlantic, so they could all go together. Figuring out how those guys got around when they didn’t have a car was another part of the mystery.
As it turned out, the tunnels had actual trains in them. Learning that blew his mind. The reason why the world above didn’t know about it was because the trains ran a level below the tunnels themselves, where chances of anyone from above visiting were practically zero. It brought to mind that staircase in Kings, the one far too creepy for Theodore to venture down. The bad vibes were probably on purpose, to keep visitors—like him—out. It worked too well.
The subway system was complex. Trains came and went in opposing directions and didn’t always stop at stations. Actually, they didn’t even follow the original pathways the government had started and had subsequently abandoned, probably because they didn’t have to, which allowed for stops that led up into the guts between stations and stops that led up directly into the Dead Ponies, besides the regular ones. It was weird to think that someone would go into the DP just to take the train, but when he remembered the sheer size of that place, it made sense that people would need a means of transportation to traverse it.
The wildest part of it was that the rides were completely free; anybody could just walk in and take the train. He almost felt bad taking it, since he obviously didn’t belong here or contribute to this community. This was their subway, not his, but right now, that was the only way he’d ever get to Hwan’s place.
Moorgate’s theme wasn’t nautical, but the neon lights were still blue and the streets still felt magical. Walking between his two friends, he felt his heart beat against his chest, excitement rising above the nervousness. It’d only taken an entire day for that to change. He wondered if the passersby that crossed paths with them knew what was about to happen, if they knew why he was between them. The answer was no, but thinking about it still quickened his pulse.
Hwan’s apartment was much bigger than expected. The front door opened into a big floorplan without any walls separating the three main areas—the dining room, the kitchen and the living room. It was dark, but he could see the outline of some key furniture that helped him localize each area; the dining room closest to the door, the kitchen behind it and the living room to its left.
As soon as they walked in, Hwan flicked a switch that turned a couple of wall lamps on, dimly illuminating the dining table, rectangular and made of wood. Instinctively, Theodore shrugged his jacket off, but while it still rested over his elbows, Marquis stepped in front of him, far into his personal space. He was quickly met with a kiss, eyes slipping shut, front door clicking behind him.
***
There was a certain synchrony between Marquis and Hwan that caused the night to flow very naturally, a clear indication that they’d done this before. While Marquis went down on Theodore, Hwan kissed his neck, pressed up against him. That particular experience, coupled with Hwan’s hands on his hips, reminded him of Laith, but he tried not to think about it. This wasn’t Laith, it was somebody else, despite the goosebumps that trailed down Theodore’s back with the mere thought, the mere possibility that it might be him.
It wasn’t.
As promised, he really didn’t have to do anything. The night was centered entirely on him, and since the couple already knew what to do, there wasn’t even room for him to try and give back. They pulled his clothes off, laid him over the table and made him see stars. Hwan stood between his thighs while Marquis sat on him, knocking him completely breathless. For some reason, all his brain really focused on were the tattoos on Hwan’s body and the way he touched Marquis, hand flat over his stomach, face buried into his neck. Marquis leaned the back of his head on Hwan’s shoulder, legs doing all the work.
Theodore watched them with a softball in his throat and a pit the size of the world in his stomach. Their closeness, their synchrony just killed him.
They pushed him over the edge first—considerate hosts. So considerate, in fact, that they checked in on him throughout the whole evening, asking him if he was okay, if he liked what they were doing, if he wanted anything to stop or change. It helped him feel comfortable; he even found himself relaxing, allowing them to take care of things. They already carried it out so well. For better or worse, it wasn’t the emotional experience he thought it’d be. His friends were very thoughtful, but the way they touched him had absolutely nothing to do with the way Laith usually did. It killed him; everything about it killed him.
They asked him if he wanted to keep going after climaxing, but he told them he was okay, mostly because he wanted to see them together. Something about that set his heart on fire, painful yet addictive; Hwan’s hands on Marquis’ hips, the careful way he pushed into him, the familiarity between their bodies, so used to each other—the softball in Theodore’s throat was hard to swallow.
Still lying under Marquis, he craned his neck to glance down Hwan’s body, tattoos crawling up his chest, etched into his arms. He wasn’t as strong as Laith, but had a similar build to him anyway; thick waist and broad shoulders that were just good enough for tonight. It was the closest Theodore had ever seen somebody get to the original.
Absently, Marquis pressed a hand over Hwan’s. That alone stabbed Theodore in the chest, but what really took him out point blank was that Hwan actually lifted his fingers so his boyfriend could hold them. Seeing that, Theodore could barely breathe. His entire body hurt as if it’d been run over on the highway. He thought of his first time with Laith, when a hand had touched his stomach, his only opportunity to take it. What did it feel like to have someone that would let him do that? As naturally as this, Marquis’ hand over Hwan’s, absent. With shards of glass in his mouth, Theodore closed a fist around Marquis’ cock and stroked it. That was the least he could do.
Once they were all done, Marquis turned on the shower for Theodore while Hwan gathered their clothes. A hint of worry pinched Marquis’ eyebrows the tiniest bit together, hand touching Theodore on the arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem shaken.”
“I just—” He stopped himself immediately, heart punching the softball out of his mouth. “I came too hard, I guess.”
That put a smile on Marquis’ face. The bathroom door had been left open behind him, where Hwan showed up with everyone’s clothes hanging from his arms. Somehow, all Theodore could look at was the size of his arms and the tattoos there. “I’m gonna put this in the room.”
Theodore nodded.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Shout if you need us.” A gentle squeeze on his arm was Marquis’ parting gift.
As soon as the door closed, he felt himself start to crumble. First, an arm reached for the wall, hand pressed hard against the tiles. Then, his heart broke in a million pieces, and with shrapnel in his eyes, he let himself cry.
***
Originally, he wasn’t going to spend the night. They hadn’t talked about it or made any plans past the threesome, so he hadn’t exactly expected the invitation. Neither had Hwan, apparently. It was clear that it’d happened on a whim, Marquis acting on an impulse. The worst part of it was that Theodore knew why. He had not only failed to mask the pit that ate him up inside, but had also displayed its effects on his face, which his friends could easily read. If he’d tried a little harder, he’d have been able to hide himself better, but part of him wanted to be found out. Part of him wanted the others to know how badly he felt, so compassion would follow, and it did. Marquis took his arm and asked him if he didn’t want to sleep over.
Over Marquis’ shoulder, Theodore saw Hwan lift his brows in surprise, but not argue it. They were a team, after all—one and the same. Whatever one decided to do, the other would give their full support.
With a painful sigh in his lungs, Theodore nodded.
His sleeping schedule had been backwards for a while now, which meant that trying to go to bed at a reasonable time was pretty much useless. The whole affair had happened extremely early in the evening, earlier than he’d been waking up these days, to fall in accordance with Marquis’ schedule. Out of the three, he was the only one with a normally functioning day-to-day, where he studied in the morning and slept at night. The other two didn’t, but still got in bed with him anyway.
For some reason, Theodore ended up in the middle again, hugged left and right by two very caring friends. It was… different. It didn’t patch up the hole in his chest, but it still helped him feel loved. He found himself turning towards Hwan though, arms folded in the space between them, hands touching his chest. If he squinted, he could pretend that the tattoos over his body were the right ones in the right places. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that the one who hugged him was somebody else completely.
When he came back to, his lungs breathed in the freshness of the ocean, face buried into Hwan’s pecs. Theodore found him awake, staring at something out of sight, face lit up by a blue glow—he must be holding his phone behind Theodore’s head. When had he nestled into Hwan’s tits? Also, why didn’t his friend seem to care? Well, a win was a win; he’d never argue it.
A hand poked Hwan to let him know his guest was awake, and in silence, the two shared a glance. Hwan’s smile was warm. Per request, he got Theodore’s phone for him, so they could communicate without bothering Marquis. It wasn’t because Theodore was awake that he’d relinquish his place, remaining in Hwan’s arms with his face in his chest—where he belonged. The solidarity actually felt really nice; the hand that touched his hair, the heavy arm around him, Hwan’s nose buried in golden locks. It turned the burden of staying up late into something enjoyable.
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