Threesomes
Last night
Damn you were in my sex dreams
-- Lady Gaga, Sexxx Dreams
Perfect luck allowed him to leave his house just as Ryan and his friends hung out at the end of the block. He saw them from the sidewalk, talking. It didn’t seem like they were doing much of anything else; from a distance, Theodore couldn’t tell. He’d been on the way to Daisy’s house, but quickly decided to walk past it, pulse skipping a beat. He hadn’t seen them in months!
As he got close, he noticed that only three of them were here this time; Ryan stood with his back to him, the Syrian stood with his back to the street, and the girl leaned against somebody’s fence. They all faced each other. Once again, catching the conversation as it happened, Theodore couldn’t follow it, but that hardly mattered; he was just happy to see them again.
Coming up next to Ryan, green eyes found him first, as they always seemed to do. Theodore’s heart jumped, lips curling into a big goofy smile. A black mask covered the Syrian’s mouth, face turned just the tiniest bit in his direction, too cool to face him properly. How had Ryan made friends with this guy? He was in a league of his own.
“Hey, Theo,” the Syrian greeted as he approached, almost putting a stumble in his step—he remembered his name!
Theodore grinned behind his own mask. “Hey!”
His voice prompted Ryan to turn and see him there. His brother’s eyes were dull, devoid of emotion, very characteristic of him.
“How are you guys?” Theodore asked.
Ryan and the girl both replied very briefly before going back to what they’d been talking about. The girl seemed upset about something, or maybe someone, but Theodore couldn’t really grasp what the problem was and just kind of stood there for a minute, feeling like he was part of something.
The Syrian moved his hands when he talked, gesticulating vaguely. One of his tattoos caught Theodore’s attention, a skull on the outside of his forearm that hadn’t been there before. It begged into question whether Theodore simply hadn’t noticed it the first time or if it was actually new. How many did he have?
Next, Theodore looked at the tattoo that poked out from under the Syrian’s sleeve, the bed of a forest that crawled up his upper arm, wrapping around his bicep—Theodore remembered this one. His shirt was so tight that it was easy to see how strong he was, fabric stretched across his chest. He stood very casually, with a hand in his pants pocket and most of his weight on one leg. The other one was outstretched, leather boots tightly fastened around the ankles. When a breeze swept past, it ruffled his hair and filled Theodore’s lungs with spicy amber, strong enough to filter into his mask.
Ryan seemed like the only one actually trying to cheer the girl up, while the Syrian cracked jokes and made light of the situation. No one really laughed; he was just doing it for himself, too cool to care what the others thought about it.
Most of the neighbors overlooked this corner of the block, and to any onlooker, Theodore must’ve seemed like part of the group. Not super convincingly perhaps, since he didn’t dress like them, but by association. The girl went on about somebody unnamed, and when the Syrian mentioned a threesome, everybody laughed. Theodore wasn’t sure what a threesome was but laughed anyway, pretending to get the joke, half-hoping the neighbors were watching this.
“Where’s the redhead?” Theodore asked, making them all look at him. The attention doubled his heart in size.
“Justin?” the girl asked, lifting her pierced eyebrow. “He should be pulling up anytime now.”
“Are you going to a party?”
“Technically,” the Syrian added, taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “but it’s much bigger than that.” He took a step back and pulled his mask down, one foot on the street, the other on the curb. “Justin’s family has a ranch, but they’re out for the weekend. They do that every month.” He spoke while placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, green eyes down at the flame, orange hues dancing over them.
“A lot of people are coming,” the girl added, absently watching her friend pocket the lighter. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“It sounds awesome.”
They all glanced at Theodore. The Syrian was the only one who had a response to that, smirking around the cigarette. “Hell yeah, it sounds awesome. It’s bigger than us.”
Bigger than them. There was something incredibly magical about that.
A moment later, Justin pulled up in his truck, an old-looking Ford, red paint scratched off at the edges. He had the window down and an arm on the door, waving at Theodore as soon as their eyes met. Even behind Justin’s mask, Theodore could tell he was smiling, eyes bright. “Hey, Theo! Are you coming with us, little man?”
“Fuck no.” Ryan scoffed, following the others to the truck. Theodore’s heart quivered, but he understood where his brother was coming from; it’d be too much responsibility to watch him at a party that size. Plus, their parents would never allow it.
As the Syrian made to leave, Theodore took his arm, pulse racing in his ear. Green eyes found him with none of the annoyance he’d been expecting, curious instead.
“What’s your name?” The question escaped him with every ounce of his soul. It put a smile on the Syrian’s face.
“Laith.”
Laith. He’d never heard that name before.
A hand came up to his head and ruffled his hair worse than Ryan used to do, ruining how neatly he’d brushed it this morning. He didn’t mind it when Laith did it, though. He shoved Laith back playfully, a parting gesture.
“See you later, Theo.”
Laith’s good humor planted a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Justin tossed him a beer through the window. It was sheer luck that allowed Theodore to see that and catch it in time. The can was cold, gold in his possession. He’d never been offered a beer before.
Once everyone was on the bed of the truck, Justin took off; exaggerated waves and loud goodbyes were shouted at Theodore. He grinned wide enough to hurt. Hiding the can in his bag, he walked to Daisy’s house, lungs full of air, a nice feeling in his chest. They remembered his name.
***
The beer only came out late at night. That was the first time he closed his door, painfully aware of how easily the monsters could get him now. He tried not to think about it.
The can wasn’t cold anymore, so he opened it very carefully, trying to keep the foam from overflowing. His mother had told him time and time again just how bad beer tasted and how much she preferred cocktails, but licking some foam off the lid, it wasn’t as bad as he’d been expecting. Carbonation hit his nose as any soda did, and sure, it was bitter, but it wasn’t disgusting like he’d been told.
Sitting on his bed, he drank and thought about Justin’s ranch, how Ryan hadn’t come home yet and that he’d probably spend the entire weekend out. He’d been doing that a lot. Their parents knew about it too; they noticed when he didn’t come down for breakfast in the morning, bedroom empty for days at a time, but no one ever said anything. Turning eighteen really did change everything.
When the can was done, Theodore hid it behind the bed and climbed under the sheets. His chest was a good kind of warm. Light-headed, he took out his phone and searched the word threesome. What came up widened his eyes and burned his face. Instinctively, he locked the screen—so they’d been talking about sex and laughing too. His memory failed to remember just what the joke had been exactly, but it must’ve been a funny one; he just didn’t know anything about it.
Unlocking the screen, he scrolled down the search results, blood warm in his veins. With the volume turned down, he tapped on one of the videos; two girls and one guy in someone’s living room, fully clothed, different from the preview image. They all kissed each other, first in pairs, then together, which seemed like a very awkward thing to do, despite how much they seemed to enjoy it. He wondered if Laith had done something like this, since he knew about it. Well, everyone had laughed, so they must all have known about it. Had they… done this?
In the video, shirts started coming off. The guy was pretty strong; his arms were about as big as Laith’s, a six pack like the ones from the movies. Did Laith have a six pack too? Both girls kissed down his neck and chest, shaved, not a single tattoo on his body. That was disappointing.
When they undid the man’s pants, Theodore paused the video, wide-eyed. On second thought, the genders were off; there were too many boys in Ryan’s friend group, so they must not have done this. They might’ve kissed, but… His heart skipped with the thought of Laith kissing the girl like the people on-screen, shirtless and peppered with tattoos. Warmth traveled down his body, settling between his thighs. Laith kissing the girls in the video as hands traced down his stomach, undoing his pants. Swallowing dry, Theodore resumed the video, now with fire in the pit of his stomach. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Laith and if this were him, in the girls’ mouths, tongue dragging along the shaft. Had Laith done this? Maybe not with his friends, but with people Theodore didn’t know, blonde girls with blue eyes in someone’s living room.
Theodore’s heart raced—he’d never been this hard before. He didn’t do this kind of stuff; his mother said that he shouldn’t, that it had to be a secret, only performed when he was very alone. A hand came down to the front of his pants and tugged on it, readjusting his underwear. The touch received an instinctive reaction, hips pushing into his palm. He grabbed himself. Did he feel very alone?
The girls in the video moved on to something else, so he exited the window, screen locked again. It didn’t matter; all he could think of were the girls’ hands on Laith’s body. His breath came in short, crotch rubbing against his palm. He’d never actually touched himself, but this felt way too nice, so he buried his face into the pillow and kept doing it, mind flooded with images of Laith kissing a pretty girl, tongue on her lips, slipping into her mouth.
His body was warm, heart spreading fire across his skin. It was impossible to stop. His hand slipped under his pants and jerked him off as fast as the rushing of his own pulse. Someone sucking Laith off, kissing his face, grabbing his body; a blonde girl, his best friend, a boy. A boy. The guy from the video. Laith kissing the guy and touching him too; tongue in his mouth, hands on his stomach. Theodore groaned into the pillow, exploding into his own hand as if he’d been set on fire and then immediately tossed into the ocean. He held himself through it, shivering hard, feeling his skin pulse against his palm. His hand was coated in cum, warm and slippery. Breathing heavy, he lay there for a minute, face burning with shame.
How could he have thought about Laith that way? It was so disrespectful. His heart squeezed, hand stuck between his body and the mattress—he was disgusting. He pulled his pants up and jumped out of bed, heat emanating from his face, chest stabbed with a knife. Why did he do that?
He locked himself in the bathroom down the hall and washed his hands, scrubbing them raw. If only Laith knew. He could barely breathe, shadows growing darker, moving in his peripherals—the world was slipping again. His hands hurt, so he stopped scrubbing, clasping them on the sink, holding onto the edges. He shouldn’t have done that. In the mirror, he saw a wild version of himself, with bug-like eyes and messy hair, similar to how Laith had ruffled it earlier, but much worse. Shadows moved behind him, approaching menacingly, but he didn’t care; they could take him. He deserved it this time. There was a stain on the front of his pants, big and dark that made him strip down and climb into the shower.
He felt sick.
***
It was very common to catch his mother reading a book early in the morning, after his father had left the room. The weekends were the only time she could stay in bed a little later, not super worried about breakfast or putting on makeup just yet. Theodore walked in without saying a word, an awkwardness in the way he moved, guilty about last night. Quietly, he climbed into her bed and settled under the sheets, eyes on the book in her hands. She knew how to cook like a professional, but still read multiple books about it. This page taught the recipe for a fun coconut cake, which she turned a bit in his direction.
“What do you think?” she asked, sweet like he hadn’t heard in a long time. “For your friend’s birthday.”
“Kyle from Little League?”
She nodded. “His mother told me he loves coconut. We’re throwing a surprise party at practice this afternoon and I volunteered to bake the cake.”
She always did, and for good reason too; the other moms could never stop talking about her baking prowess. It made her very proud.
“Are you gonna make it look like a baseball?” Theodore asked.
“I can try. That’s a neat idea.”
He let her take a shower and get ready before jumping on this project together. The strange feeling in his chest remained, and every other minute, an urge to confess to what he’d done rose up his throat but never actually left it. They didn’t talk about that; it made her upset, so he tried not to bring it up. It’d be fine; baking with her would take his mind off it.
The surprise party was a great success; they managed to fool Kyle and smuggle all the food into the field before he arrived. His mother was late on purpose and got there just in time to catch him with a happy birthday. Kyle was the quiet kind. He looked very embarrassed that they’d done all of this for him, but seemed to enjoy the surprise, anyway.
The amount of praise Carolyn was showered with put a permanent grin on her face; it was the sole reason why she kept volunteering for and organizing events like this. She was really good at them. Ryan said she hadn’t always been though, that joining the PTA and socializing with the other moms were recent developments, but Theodore wasn’t so sure; this was the only Carolyn he’d ever known.
Changing in the locker room, it occurred to him, for the first time ever, to glance around and see what the other boys looked like. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it. Some of the boys had been getting pretty tall, but no one was as strong as Laith or the guy in the video; their body shapes were very similar to his own. His face burned just thinking about it, but it was an important distinction to make, that no one here caught his eye.
He thought about that video a lot, more than he cared to admit, but rarely ever touched himself. That last time had been too much; he didn’t want to repeat it. Still, lying in bed, it was impossible not to think about Laith and the girls and the way they made him feel. His body’s reactions were involuntary; his heart raced, his blood grew warm, and the pit of his stomach burned. There was nothing he could do about it. He touched himself just a bit and turned around to sleep it off, hoping he’d calm down overnight. Sometimes, it worked; other times, he was forced to get out of bed and take a cold shower. Those were the nights where he buried himself in homework and stayed up until it was time for school.
***
When summer came around, his family went to the community pool every weekend; his father loved to swim and his mother loved to meet up with her friends for afternoons of lemonade and gossip. Without Ryan around, Theodore did a little bit of both, trying not to bother his parents too much. Daisy was usually there too, so they hung out on and off, between swimming laps and sipping on lemonade. She mostly talked to the other neighbors while he stuck around, watching people jump into the water and zip across the pool.
His father drank a beer near the edge of the pool, talking to a handful of the other dads who kept coming in and out of the water. Some were pretty muscular, big arms and a bit of a belly, catching Theodore’s attention. None of them had tattoos, but at this point, that was too much to ask. They laughed and joked very loudly, deep voices traveling a long way to escalate his heartbeat and crush his chest with guilt. It was embarrassing just how alluring they were, impossible to look away from. He hated the warmth they sent down his body, pulse quickening with interest. He watched them during the day, and at night, thought about them under the covers.
He never went all the way again, too embarrassed to do this while thinking of his friends’ dads, feeling like a freak that couldn’t control his own body. What he did always felt wrong, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t help wondering if those guys thought about people they knew too, and if they cared as much as he did. Considering how laid-back they seemed, they probably did it without a single ounce of remorse.
Was Laith like them? Uncaring who made him feel so heated, who populated his thoughts while he touched himself. The thought alone was enough to push Theodore over the edge again. He hated just how good it felt to think about him and how hard it made him cum, body jerking, shivers racing down his spine. The fact that Laith was a guy hammered into the back of his head, louder every time.
The need to tell someone was suffocating. He’d gone to his mother first, since he always told her everything, or almost everything, but he knew how much she hated this kind of conversation and couldn’t find it in himself to upset her. Confessions tried to burst out of his mouth, but he kept swallowing them down, afraid to say the wrong thing.
His lack of options took him straight to Ryan’s room, where his brother sat at his desk and barely spared him a glance. His feet shuffled over the carpet, legs bouncing, but the question refused to come out. There was silence as he agonized over what to say, but ultimately decided to say something else, anything just to exchange a couple of meaningless words instead of remaining weirdly quiet. Luckily, his brother never seemed to care, but every time he failed himself, the lump in his throat grew bigger.
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