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The internet might be full of sex, (the internet is for porn...the internet is for porn...why do you think the net was born? Porn, porn, porn, Jack's brain offered unhelpfully), but it didn’t really do much in the way of helpful hands on advice. At least not with the search terms he was putting in. He glared at a series of videos of writhing flesh that he would usually happily beat his meat to. What was he doing wrong?
...did he need to get a book? What the hell would a book like that even be called? If Jack wanted to read, he would’ve been a fucking English major like Palgraves' pretentiousness ass.
Wait. Palgraves would actually know. He could just ask another human being. Except that if he asked sober, he doubted either of them would actually survive the conversation. Palgraves refused pot because the guy was screwy in the head and had ideas about ‘clarity’ that mostly made Jack want to very gently push his head into a toilet and flush. Despite that, Palgraves he did drink. Unsuccessfully. Perfect.
“The thing is,” Palgraves started saying than stopped dead three nights later. “I don’t remember the thing. What were we thinging about?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Jack topped off Palgraves’ glass. “Something something death something something you’re a weirdo?”
“Sounds right,” Palgraves agreed.
His glasses were crooked and his hair was sticking up in every direction. They were sitting on Jack’s couch, alone in the house for once. Sam was out, Anne and Read were having a date night. They weren’t often alone together and Jack wasn’t sure he liked it. Palgraves was a somber guy, rarely laughed at Jack’s jokes as if he was somehow above them, but he also had asked for Jack’s help with chem assignments more than once and listened to what he said. Mixed bag.
“Question,” Jack ventured.
“Answer!” Palgraves hiccuped. “Are we free associating now?”
“No, you-” Jack gritted the insult back. “You and Sam are fucking, right?”
“What?” Palgraves blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yes? Oh shit. Can you hear us through the wall? I told him you guys could totally hear us. Oh fuck, I’m gonna die now.”
“No, we can’t,” Jack said readily. Could they? Sometimes there was banging and moans, he guessed, but he was usually too busy focusing on his own banging and moans to care.
“Oh. Good. Why are you asking?”
“Do you take it up the ass sometimes or what?”
Palgraves stared at him, eyebrows knitting together, “Is that...what? Why? Is this....are you being homophobic or just Jack?”
“I’m marrying a dude, genius,” Jack rolled his eyes. “Come on, follow along.”
“I am trying my best,” Palgraves huffed. “You’re being confusing.”
“I’m trying to figure how to get fucked.”
“I-” Palgraves blinked. “Why?”
This was harder than expected which was very irritating.
“Because I want to get fucked, so I need you to tell me what the hell to do cause I’ve never has sex with a cock involved.”
“Oh!” A flush pink as anything started at Palgrave’s neck, disappeared down the front of his shirt and set his whole face on fire. Jesus. “Uh....wow. Um. So....”
“Yeah?”
“Fingers!” Palgraves blurted. “Like you’re own. Figure out if you even like it first?”
That actually made sense. Jack understood experimentation to get results.
“Yeah, okay, what else?”
“Wow, uhhhh,” he picked up his drink again and threw back the rest of it. “Ok. So. Do you know what your prostate is?”
“Of course I do. But tell me like I don’t.”
“Um, okay, so like, there’s a bump..."
After a few fumbling attempts to explain, Palgraves managed a pretty credible demonstration using his fist and a finger. That was around when Sam walked in. Was it midnight already? Fuck.
“What did you do?” Sam demanded of Jack as soon as his eyes hit his boyfriend’s red face.
“Jack needs to know about anal,” Palgraves said earnestly.
“What? Why?” Sam frowned. “Also why Palgraves?”
“I’ve had a lot of anal sex,” Palgraves announced proudly. He was listing to one side a little. Sam came around to brace him up and run a hand through his hair. “Some of it with you!”
“Yep, thanks. I was there for it,” Sam laughed tiredly. “You okay?”
“Peachy,” Paglraves yawned, eyes closing as Sam kept petting him. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. You would’ve hated it.”
“Probably.”
Jack sensed his window to mine Palgraves for information had closed. Shit. Sam was no longer glaring, but he was getting his boyfriend up and onto his feet.
“Let’s get you in bed with some water.”
“Yeah, okay. Night Jack!”
“Night,” he grunted, pulling the half-full bottle of coconut rum closer to him. Palgraves couldn’t even like liquor right.
They went out the back door to the stairs and then there was a clatter.
“Hey!” Sam shouted.
“No, I have to tell him!” Palgraves said urgently and busted back in through the door. He ran up to Jack and took Jack’s face between his hands. “This is important.”
“What the fuck?” Jack said. Or tried to say. Palgraves was squishing his lips together.
“Flared base only. Do not stick anything in your butt if it doesn’t have a flared base.”
“I-”
“Promise me! You are so very smart and so very stupid and you already spend too much time in the E.R.”
“One time!”
“One time, this summer,” Palgraves' eyes were wide and Sam was taking him gently by elbows. ”Promise!”
“Yeah, yeah I promise, fuck.”
“Good!” Palgraves let go and went all limp and adorable again, leaning against Sam. “Okay, we can go now.”
“I want to be mad at you, but I think you just did us all an important service, honey,” Sam decided. “Good job.”
Jack would’ve protested, but they were gone before he could scrape something up. He got out his phone. He had some more direct googling to do now.
***
After that little side adventure, Jack’s research took a bend to the more helpful. It was a little distracting too and he almost took off an eyebrow at work when he got a message that the first of his late night packages had arrived. He wasn’t worried about Anne or Read opening them. They were used to him receiving weird bits and bobs and just left his boxes in his work corner of the living room.
“You good?” Tony asked, as Jack scrubbed at his face.
“Yep.”
“Keep your head in the game.”
“Sure thing, coach”
Tony liked to be called ‘coach’. It was probably a fetish thing, but he was the boss and pretty easy to work with otherwise, so Jack just rolled with it.
“What’s got you all knotted up anyway?”
“Just personal stuff.” Jack didn’t generally care much about boundaries, but he liked this job and he wasn’t going to fuck it for himself that way.
“This about your woman?”
Tony knew about Anne. Read had yet to come up and Jack didn’t love that. He’d never been closeted before and it turned out that it sucked. But the job was the job. None of them were fully out at work and that just was what it was.
“Sort of. Planning a present, I guess.”
“Eh, I always get my wife exactly what she tells me she wants. I’ve got bad taste in jewelry.”
Jack nodded and let Tony rattle on about failed gifts. Should he be asking first? They’d talked around the idea. Certainly things had been mentioned both in and out of the heat of the moment. It was all there. No. He was right about this, he was fairly sure and if he was wrong then so what? It was just a whim. Everyone knew about Jack’s whims.
When he got home, the package had indeed arrived, but so had Anne and Read. It was a slothful night and Jack loved those. They were all in varying degrees of pajamas, piled on their bed while Anne ran the laptop. Anne pillowed her head on his stomach and Read was up around his shoulder. Sometimes Anne would get restless and sometimes elbow him in the gut, but he barely felt it these days. Though he felt the apologetic kisses that sometimes followed and usually wound up upsetting the laptop.
“Hey,” Jack mumbled into Read’s ear as Anne hunted for the series they’d been watching.
“Hey,” Read tilted back his head. “You good?”
“Mhm,” Jack walked his fingers up Read’s arm. “You call that guy yet?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Got an appointment in a few weeks. Still seems like a lot of money we could use for other shit though. Like a wedding.”
“Eh,” Jack wrinkled up his nose. “I figured I’d just grab a shotgun and figure something out in front of the courthouse.”
“Handsome, please tell me you know that’s not what a shotgun wedding is,” Read buried his face in Jack’s neck, laughing at him. “Please.”
“I don’t lie to you,” Jack said gravely, mostly to make him laugh harder which he did. Anne noticed, glancing up to give them both a warm smile, before returning to her clicking.
“She wants a nice wedding,” Read mumbled. “Traditional.”
“It’s a day, hotstuff. This is the rest of your life.”
“Still,” Read sighed. “I don’t want to suck up all the resources. We can’t live here forever.”
“Why not? Now that Anne finished the kitchen, and we replaced the missing stair, it’s nice.”
“We’ll need an office eventually though. And you might want a real workshop instead of the living room and sneaking in the university ones.”
“I don’t sneak,” he huffed. “I’m invited.”
“Debatable, but not really the point.”
“No, yeah, I got it,” Jack sighed. “Still. We’ll figure it out. At least find out what it’ll cost.”
Read nodded then said softly, “Come with me?”
“You want me to go?” Jack asked incredulously. “You want Anne.”
“Who wants me for what?” Anne looked back up the bed.
“For everything always,” Read told her and Anne crawled back up the bed to kiss him. Smooth shit. “But I was saying I want Jack to come with me for the consult next month.”
“Okay,” Anne nodded. “Makes sense to me.”
“You told me I wasn’t ‘fit for public consumption’ like yesterday,” Jack pointed out.
“Because you had breadcrumbs in your beard and you were so high you walked into a wall, babe,” Anne patted his chest. “Be sober and wash your face before you go in, you’ll be fine.”
“But-” He subsided. What was he fighting it for? He wanted to get asked to this shit sometimes and usually accepted that he wouldn’t be. “Send me the date.”
The show started. Jack didn’t really absorb it, but neither of them would quiz him. If anything, they’d eagerly catch him up next time when he denied ever seeing it in the first place, so that was fine.
Anne always fell asleep first, cutely drooling into his t-shirt. He rolled her off and grabbed one of the blankets to cover her. They’d learned early on that three in the bed meant lots of blankets for temperature regulation. Anne was perpetually cold while Jack threw off heat like a furnace. Read fluctuated wildly and kicked so he was either mummified, naked or wrapped around Jack like a barnacle. All were excellent states of being.
Tonight was mummified, luckily, so he was able to wiggle off the bed and go downstairs to inspect his waiting package. With a flick of a knife, it opened to him and pulled out the items. He’d bought it cheaply by necessity. They were hoarding pennies and someone would ask if they saw a big chunk go out.
The minute he touched it, he judged it as fucking unacceptable. The texture, the craftsmanship (zero, no one had taken any personal care with this) were not going to work. He wouldn’t give this to an enemy let alone his sensitive-skinned partner. And the color...no. Nope. Read liked black, but this was the wrong place for it. Why were they all black? The other thing was slightly better, at least clearly body safe and a decent shape, but it was all one creepy color and the texture unappealing.
Fuck. Fine. He’d do it himself.
Jack: hi doc, think I could get some machining time next week?
Prof. Black: to do what?
Jack: making something for Read. surprise gift.
Prof. Black: k. I’m here 6-10 on Thursday anyway. No free materials.
Jack: I’ll get my own. Tnx.
Hell yeah. Jack used the existing pieces to start mapping out some designs. Most of the things would be simple enough. He messaged a classmate of his, who was still working on graduating and also did some time in the costume shop for the theater. That took some back and forth and exchange of favors, but nothing he’d really mind doing.
This kind of research he was better set up for and by the time he was yawning too hard to keep going, he had a solid model setup and some ideas for improvements. When he got up to bed, Read had already rolled towards Anne, so he shoved up next to him, buried his face in Read’s pillow and passed out.
By Thursday, Anne commented, “You’re squirrely.”
“Got a new idea,” he told her, which had all the benefits of being true.
“Ooooh fun,” she squeezed his hand. “Anything I’d understand?”
“Oh yeah,” he squeezed back. “But I kind of want to sit on it.”
He did not chuckle at his own joke, but fuck he wanted to. Sit on it. Heh.
“Okay, babe. But come to bed at a normal time tonight? We miss you.”
“Aw, miss me or miss my mouth?”
“What if we missed you and not your mouth?” She teased. Jack mimed zipping his lips then waggled his fingers at her. “Excellent rebuttal, senator. You may still come to the floor.”
Jack did not come on the floor, but it was admittedly a close call when Read had Anne writhing on his tongue while Jack was still wrestling off his socks. Fuck they were both so fucking hot. It was a good thing Jack wasn’t in the habit of questioning his own luck or he might spend more time semi-catatonic.
Worn through by both of their bedroom ambitions, Jack obediently fell asleep at a normal time. If he woke up early to order body-safe silicone in a few different grades, then they were happy to come down to the pancakes he'd made afterwards.
He did have a last hurdle and he knew exactly who to annoy about it.
“If you keep staring at me, my hair is gonna catch on fire,” Izzy groaned, and dropped his textbook into his lap. It looked boring as fuck. When Izzy graduated, Jack was going to bonfire all those books so they couldn’t hurt the world with their dryness anymore.
“I want to commission you,” Jack told him.
“Why are you in my house?”
“You let me in.”
“Mistake one,” Izzy agreed. “What the fuck do you mean commission?”
“I need someone who can paint.”
“...paint what?” Izzy narrowed his eyes at him.
“Silicone.”
“Jack.”
“Izzzzy,” Jack grinned wide at him.
“Specifics, Jack.”
So Jack told him.
Honestly half the fun of being friends with Izzy was trying to figure out what things would make him explode. Jack fucking loved explosions and Izzy would froth over into some inventive new insults when provoked, many of which Jack had attempted to steal. He had a fondness for ‘dickfuck’ even though Izzy had reluctantly admitted that it was in turn taken from his ex.
Unfortunately for Jack, Izzy did not insult him. If anything, Izzy looked very thoughtful and then started to laugh in a way that could only be described as ‘evil’.
“You really want someone who knows how to paint that, then I have just the guy, but he’s not cheap and he doesn’t do sculpture usually.”
“Oookay? But he might help?”
“Maybe. But I get to ask him.”
“Knock yourself out,” Jack said happily.
He probably should’ve asked follow up questions because all of that landed him in a duplex that was more art than wall and being stared down by Izzy’s beloved professor. Spriggs was wearing a shirt made of a dozen different colored stripes that Jack really wanted to steal it off him. It was perfect. He also had a smirk etched on his face.
“So. Izzy tells me you want...art,” Lucius ventured.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “I asked him, but he said you’d be better for this.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“No, but I know how to use the internet. You draw a mean dick.”
“I draw a-” Spriggs repeated, then gave into laughter. “Okay wow. This is truly a new one for me. But I have to point out several reasons why this isn’t a great idea, first and foremost that you could just buy one online.”
“No, I know,” Jack frowned. “It’s just....I want it to be special.”
“Okay, I’ll also point out that it could be uncomfortable considering that I do spend a lot of time around Izzy and eventually one and one is going to make two. I did teach a class he was in.”
Jack frowned, “Yeah, okay. I don’t want to make it weird.”
“Jack, I say this from the bottom of my heart: too fucking late.”
“Aw dammit. Good weird or bad weird?”
“Undecided,” Lucius settled on. “I think I have a solution though.”
“Yeah?”
“You really only need to do a little painting. So let me show a few things that I think we’ll work and you can just pay me for an hour of private tutoring.”
“Really?” That was better, actually. Then the only hands that had touched them would be his and that would probably make everyone involved more comfortable.
“Really. One requirement.”
“I’m all ears.”
“We’re going to be in close quarters and I get migraines, I need you to not wear whatever you usually spray on yourself to cover up the weed.”
“Then I’ll smell like weed,” Jack pointed out.
“You could not smoke it.”
“Interesting theory, doc.”
Lucius closed his eyes momentarily then reopened them, “I’m only saying this because you have never actually been my student and I don’t have any moral obligation over you: I would rather you stank of pot than whatever you douse yourself in.”
“Can do! So when is this happening?”
They wound up in Lucius’ office at school which was cool because it was a room he already felt comfortable in. He and Professor Black had talked over plans there a bunch of times. Jack had met Lucius that way, but not taken much notice of him or his side of the room. Though he had liked getting out of the engineering building. The art building had lots of things to stare at when your brain was overclocked.
“Okay,” Lucius came in and studied Jack then sighed. “Let’s do this.”
“Awesome!”
“I figure we’ll just mostly practice blending and some watercolor things since that’s mostly what you’ll need as far as I can tell,” Lucius didn’t shut the door which Jack thought was kind of cool. It really was just a one-on-one lesson and Lucius was treating it that way, not something that had to be hidden.
“Sounds good,” Jack got out one of Read’s discarded sketchbooks that still had some good blank pages in it and a pencil.
Over the next half hour, Lucius just matter-of-factly showed him how to blend colors together and Jack followed along, awkward with the brush when Lucius set in his hand, but making do.
“I think that’ll get you through a lot of it. Remember whatever color you’re trying to capture is beneath the skin, so you can’t go wrong diluting it more. Now, I was thinking we could sketch an outline and maybe build on that.”
“Oh, yeah sure,” Jack fished in his bag, drew out the copy of the schematic he’d made, and laid it out.
“This is...” Lucius tilted his head, then drew the paper closer to him, “Jack this is good work. Did you draw this?”
“Not really. I 3D modeled it and then generated some different views.”
“3D modeling has some things in common with sculpting,” Lucius tapped the sheet with his prosthetic finger. It made a nice even clacking sound that rubbed Jack’s brain right. “You’ve got some talent. I can see why Pete talks about you being one of his better students.”
“He does?”
Jack didn’t give a shit what adults thought about him. He mostly tried to live his life as free of other people’s opinions as possible. But Black was different. The man kept helping. Being there. Jack was a fuck up. Had always been a fuck up, would probably die a fuck up. He figured Black had seen that and just wanted to make sure Jack didn’t fail out on his watch.
“Yes, Jack,” Lucius was still looking at the 3D model, “and Izzy sees something in you too. A lot of somethings or we wouldn’t be sitting here.”
“Izzy thinks I’m an idiot,” Jack grinned.
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t suffer fools well. He calls everyone an idiot. It’s practically a love language,” Lucius said fondly.
“Does he call you an idiot?”
“Absolutely not,” Lucius snorted. “It’s not my love language. My point is that he cares about you a great deal. So does Pete. I don’t know you very well, but I put a high premium on both of their opinion.”
“I think we just uh...Ikea Mindfucked Izzy or something.”
“Excuse me?” Lucius’ eyebrows flew up into his hairline.
“Yeah,” Jack snapped his fingers as if he could pluck the right words out of the air. “That like...Swedish Fish Sickness that hostages get.”
“Stockholm Syndrome?” Lucius asked faintly.
“That’s the one! We did that to him.”
“Right,” Lucius coughed and reached for a mug of coffee that had to be cold, swallowing about half of it down. “You didn’t do that. He was really lonely and you guys reached out to him. It’s really nice.”
“Nice, huh? Then how come you named us the Bastards?”
“He started it! Basically. Anyway....wait. Do you actually get offended by that? Because I can stop."
“No, man,” Jack shrugged. “I like it. It’s cool. Sounds like an air force squadron name or something.”
“Good. That’s...what were we actually talking about? Right,” Lucius looked back down at the design. “Let’s work with this and do some color placement.”
***
By the time Jack got to the college’s machine shop on Thursday night, he was well armed with a box of supplies, his laptop (custom-built with extra fans, enough processing power for three machines, and some stickers, including one of a sexy devil that said 'Maybe Today Satan' that Anne had bought him when they first started dating. Jack knew she was perfect right then) and a dream.
Black was soldering when he came in, sitting back and pushing up his face shield when Jack got close. There was a dark line of sweaty dirt across his forehead.
“Jack! Come here and hold this for me,” Black pointed to a piece of sheet metal and Jack pulled on gloves and jogged up to it. Black flipped the shield back down. Five minutes later, he turned off the flame and took a step back. “All good, release.”
Jack took a step back and it held. “What’re you working on?”
“Meat smoker,” Black grinned. “McKinty, history guy, he asked me to help him make a prototype of a 1800s smoker from some plans he found for a paper.”
“Cool, think it’ll work?”
“Don’t see why it wouldn’t, and I get to eat the experiments, so I’m good with it. You need any help with your thing?”
“Nah, mostly gonna make some rings and do some leatherwork. You still have Manny lying around?”
“You know it! He’s in his usual spot.”
Manny the Mannequin had been subjected to many horrors through the years, but he was still basically person shaped which was really all Jack needed today. Jamming on his headphones, Jack turned up some house beats and got to work.
Some time later, really in a flow state with the sewing process, Jack almost stabbed himself when Black waved a hand in front of his face. He ripped off his head phones,
“What?”
“It’s midnight,” Black gave him an amused look. “You going to sleep here tonight, or what?”
“Uh, shit. I need like a half hour more?”
“Kay, I’m going home. Get the lights on your way out, door will lock behind you, you know the drill. I’ll tell Buttons you’re in here so campus security doesn’t try to pick you up.”
“Thanks, man,” Jack sighed in relief. “I really appreciate it.”
“Pay me back by not breaking anything or falling asleep face down in whatever you’re doing. How’s the job by the way?”
“It’s great,” Jack turned to face him. “We’re doing fireworks every Friday night after games. You should come down.”
“I’d like that,” Black smiled. It was a damn good smile. “Think anymore about getting your masters?”
“Nah, not yet,” Jack looked down at his hands. “Barely got out of undergrad alive.”
“This would be different. You’d just be doing engineering. But there’s no pressure. Mostly I just want to have you back as an assistant. Not the same without you around here.”
“You told me I was a menace every day,” Jack reminded him.
“Because you are. But you were a menace with ideas. Think about it.”
“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled.
“Night, Jack.”
“Night.”
He turned back to his buckles and straps. He stared sightlessly down at them for a minute, considering giving up for the night. Anne and Read would be happier if he came home, probably, since they didn’t know why he’d decided to do a workshop night.
He couldn’t let anyone down if they didn’t know he was even doing anything.
Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his phone to text them. The lock screen was one of the better pictures Palgraves had taken of their engagement. He and Read were lip-locked, Anne’s arm around Read’s back. He put his phone back in his pocket. There wasn’t that much more left to do.
In the end, he left at 2 AM with gritty eyes and his mouth a graveyard for three Monsters of varying flavors and a fistful of beef jerky. When he got home, he zombie walked up the stairs. Anne stirred when he came in, gave him a sleepy wave and shuffled into the middle so he could get into bed. Once he was clear of the campus, he lit a joint and smoke it slow on the walk home. He didn’t give a shit about smoking up on college grounds, but Buttons was always trying to get a free toke and Jack wasn’t in the mood to share.
***
“What are you up to?” Anne woke him by shoving her knee between Jack’s thighs in early morning light.
“Mmf?” Jack cracked open his eyes. Anne was staring him down.
“You’re staying out late and getting weird packages and not bragging about what you’re making, so you’re up to something.”
He closed his eyes again, “S’good thing.”
“Promise?”
“Mmmhm.”
“Okay, holding you to that. I set the alarm for eleven for you. Anne already left for work. I’ve got class until 3. When do you get back from work tonight?”
“Dunno. Midnight-ish,” he burrowed his face into the pillow.
“Love you,” Anne kissed his cheek.
“Love you too, babe.”
As soon as the front door closed, he sat up in bed like a zombie, turned off the alarm and headed for the shower. He stayed under the hot water for a long time, staring blankly into space.
When he wandered into the kitchen, he found a bowl of Lucky Charms already poured and a post-it note:
J,
Last of the box for u. Even picked out the greens.
<3,
R
The bowl was beautifully free of green marshmallows, a task he usually had to accomplish himself. (He had a thing about green milk, yes it was a hangover incident, no he didn’t like to think about the details and yes, he was aware he could eat other cereals instead, but Lucky Charms were his favorite, so fuck off).
Jack: your the best marry me
Read: you got it handsome
That was enough fuel for him to finish the job. He de-molded his creations, carefully removed excess, then started experimenting with the paint on the extra bits. The techniques Lucius had shown him worked despite the change of medium. Definitely worth the money there. The final event was almost anticlimactic, the painting accomplished in less than an hour. He gently stuck them in a box to dry.
Work before play or no one was getting married or having surgery or eating Lucky Charms. The voice that said that in his head sounded a lot like a very patient Anne, probably for good reason.
But at last Saturday night came and no one needed the bathroom or to eat or to get one last thing. Anne and Read were even already naked, fucking jackpot.
“Hold up!” He threw up his hands.
“What?” Anne lifted her mouth from Read’s neck. “Why?”
“I got a surprise.”
“...you’ve been working on a sex thing?”
“Mostly yeah,” he nodded. “Wanna see?”
“Obviously,” Anne got to her knees and Read propped himself up on his elbows.
“Okay, so it’s really for Read, but should be fun for everyone,” Jack pulled the black silky bag the original awful cheap one had come in out from under the bed. The bag was at least nice. He held it out to Read.
“I’m afraid,” Read said as he took it.
Would Read be freaked out? No. Right? No. Maybe Jack should’ve asked first. Fuck.
He sat down on the edge of the bed as they tugged open the drawstring and reached in.
“Leather? If this is handcuffs, I swear to the devil’s anus you are sleeping on the- holy shit!”
“Oh wow,” Anne stared at it.
The harness had come out well in Jack’s entirely unhumble opinion. It had been lucky to find the pale peach leather in a bundle of fabric discards. He’d carefully backed it all with a satin that wouldn’t rub and catch against Read’s skin, but with enough friction that it wouldn't slip off either. All the buckles and rings were enameled in the same color so they’d blend right in. The dick itself wasn’t enormous. Read wasn’t a heavy-boned person and the thought of a huge dong on him seemed wrong to the part of Jack’s brain that liked good proportions. He’d gone for a solid five and half inches with a nice girth. In Read’s hand, which even now was circling around it, it looked natural.
“How’d you pick one that matched like this?” Read said, pressing it against his wrist to show Anne the skin tone.
“I painted it myself,” Jack declared. “Made it myself. High grade body-safe silicone. If you don’t like it, I can do other shapes or sizes. Whatever you want. Something else in there too though.”
“More?” Read’s eyebrows flew up and he reached back into the bag and pulled out the second cock. Jack had had some extra silicon even after a dud or two. “Jack...is this a packer?”
“Uh huh. I know you wanted one that felt more real? The harness one I had a cheaper dildo to make the model, but the limp one...well I hope you like me a lot.”
“You modeled this on your own limp dick?” Anne asked, a smile blooming over her face.
“That shit is cold,” Jack said mournfully. “Good thing I'm a shower.”
“Jack, this packer is pierced,” Read held it up so Anne could see the Prince Albert Jack had put there.
“Yeah, you pierce everything else so I figured you’d pierce your dick,” Jack nodded. “I wanted to do the one in the harness too, but condoms or whatever.”
Then he had a lap full of Read and he was getting kissed. Awesome! He hadn’t fucked up. He kissed him back, steadying him by sliding hands under his ass.
“You like it?” He asked against Read's lips.
“Yeah, I fucking love it. It’s hot and you made it for me.”
“I uh,” Wow. Usually Jack had no issue saying what he wanted in bed. This was a new experience. Not a pleasant one either.
“What?” Read drew back searching his face.
“Break it in on me? I’ve been messing around a little when you guys aren’t here and I like it, so I thought maybe...”
“Jack,” Read’s eyes went wide, “are you serious?”
“Super serious, hotstuff.”
“That’s so cool,” Anne breathed out almost silently, apparently trying not to disturb the fragile thing building between Read and Jack.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing," Read protested.
“Yeah, me either,” Jack agreed. “I mean I’ve done anal stuff before, but I was the one doing the screwing. Think it’s pretty much lube, hole, don’t go too fast and we should be golden though.”
“Seems like a hell of a way to break it in,” Read glanced at the straps sitting demurely on the sheets behind her. “I’m down if you are.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I wasn’t.”
Anne made a muffled shriek then coughed and offered, “I can go be downstairs, if you guys want to do this alone the first time. I’d get it.”
“Up to you,” Read decided, looking to Jack. “I’m good either way.”
“Eh. Anne’s seen me do worse shit and not on purpose, I’m good with that.”
“Let’s make out first.”
“Hell yeah.”
Kissing was familiar and good. Read always kissed him like they were headed somewhere. Anne liked a meandering make out, but even when he and Read had no intention of fucking, they’d always kissed like they might.
When things started picking up steam, Anne helped Read with the harness, tightening and adjusting.
“Good?” Jack checked.
“It’s really comfortable,” Read nodded, and then his hand fell to the prick, circling it again with a long experimental stroke and that was....
“Fuuuck,” Jack propped himself up on his elbows to watch. “Do that again.”
“Yeah?” Read grinned.
“Oh hell yeah.”
Anne seemed to agree, her hands still on Read’s waist, stroking over leather straps, eyes fixed on his hands.
“One more thing!” Jack recalled, stuck his hand into the bag, seizing on the little remote. He tossed it at Read, who fumbled it a little, but didn’t actually drop it.
“Does it vibrate?” Read laughed.
“Nope. I mean I can do that, but that’d be more for Anne. I know what you like, hotstuff.”
Read frowned and turned it on. A surprised yelp rose out of him and then his fingers were around the base of the cock, adjusting a little. A full body shudder rippled over them.
“What is it?” Anne asked eagerly.
“One of those sucking one he likes,” Jack said happily. “I bought one and cannibalized it. So now it’s a suck and fuck harness!”
“How’s that gonna feel while he’s actually fucking you?” Anne frowned.
“No idea, but the remote has an on/off if it’s not good.”
“Off for now,” Read decided after another shudder. “It’s distracting.”
Jack got the bottle of lube out from behind the tissue boxes. From his own recent explorations, it was significantly lower than usual. Something for the grocery list. Maybe he’d finally talk them into buying that industrial barrel of lube and they could also make a slip and slide out of it in the backyard. Naked slip and slide.
“We lost him,” Read realized.
“Naked slip and slide again, babe?” Anne checked.
“Yeah, one day.”
“Dream on, big guy,” she chided him. “Focus up.”
Read crawled over him and they both watched the dick bob a little between them. Jack was very very focused. He squeezed lube into his hand and then reached down to smooth it over the almost velvet texture of the silicon. Experimentally, he got his own cock involved, gathering them both up in his hand and slowly jerked them together.
“Jesus, Jack,” Read’s breath was a little uneven.
“Yeah, that’s hot as fuck,” he agreed. But not the point of the night, so he let go. “I’m gonna roll over. Feels better that way.”
“How much experimenting did you do?”
“A lot,” he admitted. “And I messed around a little in the bathroom while you two were getting naked, so I think I’m good to go.”
“What do you mean you messed around?” Read rested both palms on his chest. The metal of his engagement ring touched just above Jack’s right nipple, a pinpoint of cold. He loved that ring on Read’s hand.
“I got some fingers involved, but uh, my wrist doesn’t bend that way so good, so I wound up getting some plugs. Swirly colors. I’ll show you late.” He was not blushing. Jack did not blush. You needed a working sense of shame to blush and he had very deliberately murdered his at seventeen.
“Okay wow, first off. Hot.” Read ground down against him to make a point and he could feel the press of Read’s cock against his stomach and fuck, that was a turn on too. “Second off, next time, if ther eis one, let us help you? That’s part of the fun sometimes.”
“Yeah,” he agreed willingly.
He'd thought maybe all of this would be hot. He’d been envisioning overall as a slightly awkward, but probably okay feeling event. The messing around on his own had been okay and he’d managed to come a few times, so he’d been confident this would feel at least decent anyway. Admittedly though, he’d been thinking of it as something he could do for Read. Prove something to both of them.
Now with Read pressed against him, the reality was setting him on fire.
“I want to make you feel really good,” Read murmured.
“You will,” Jack told him. “You always do.”
Read moved, giving Jack room to turn over, then covered him again. The insistent press against his thigh was promising. Read kissed his shoulders, then nipped playfully at his neck. There was a crinkle of a wrapper and some squirming that Jack didn't bother figuring out. Then the bed dipped and Anne settled a few inches away from him.
It took a minute to figure out elevations, but Jack wound up with The Pillow (so called because it was a sex-only pillow, a sensual delight Anne had introduced so they’d stop fucking up their sleep pillows) under his hips, propped up on his elbows a little. Read reached down to get his hand under Jack’s body, so he could give Jack’s cock a few long strokes.
“Still hard for me, handsome?”
“You know it,” he said brightly. “Come on, Read. Give it to me. Dare you."
“This isn’t a dare situation,” he huffed, but apparently Read was interested in getting on with it too because his hand slid away.
For a brief wild moment, Jack’s entire world narrowed down to the first ever inquisitive prod of a dick against his asshole. It seemed both hysterically funny and deadly serious. He wanted to run away, he wanted to arch back into it. He wanted to tell Read to get a move on, he wanted to Read to stop.
Then with a very tentative lean forward, the head of the cock Jack had carefully crafted pushed inside him. It burned a little, but it was also so fucking good. When he’d done this to himself, there hadn’t been the brushing of Read’s thighs against the inside of his own. There hadn’t been Read’s hand on his waist, both assuring and holding him in place without pressure. There sure as shit hadn’t been Anne reaching out to gently push the hair of his face.
He and Anne’s gazes locked as Read pushed further in. Jack groaned, dropping his head lower and Anne’s made a soft moan with him like she’d been the one opened up.
“Okay?” Read checked.
“Uh huh,” he managed. “Just...keep going.”
Read’s hand tightened on his hip and with a firmer effort, Jack was pierced and he muffled a sound that might’ve been a sob into his own arm. Anne let him stay behind his hair this time, but she stroked his arm like she was soothing him. It worked too.
“How’s it feel?” Read asked and he was bending over more, enough that his voice was intimately close and that was good too.
“Like you’re all up in me,” Jack tried to joke.
“Should I stop?”
“No...fuck no. What’s it feel like for you?”
Read sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Not sure yet. But I like how it looks.”
“You can move,” Jack told him. “You should.”
Read’s hand moved from his waist to the small of his back, not pushing exactly, but the same steady press that said ‘I’ve got this’. It was weirdly confident, considering. Jack did not give a shit. He was happy to yield to it. Especially when Read pulled back and then pushed back in and it was like every nerve in his body had gotten yanked out of him and re-arranged.
“Oooooh fuck,” he groaned. “Again.”
This time Read pulled out more and the push in made Jack hot all over, a prickling sweat that started in his balls and radiated out in every direction.
“Okay,” Read said like his voice had been dragged over gravel, “I’m sure. This fucking rules. You want more?”
“Give it to me.”
Anne moaned again and when Jack turned to look at her, she was already flicking her finger over her clit like she was going to make money come out if she rubbed hard enough. He licked his lips. He could well imagine a future moment where Read would be confidently fucking him and he could have his face buried in Anne’s pussy, licking her up.
With Jack’s unsubtle urging of rocking against Read’s thrust, things started to pick up speed. It never got wild, not even particularly fast, but after a little experimentation, Read found an angle that made Jack see stars. The prickly sweating feeling turned into a full on raging fire.
Next to him, Anne gave the broken whimper that meant she’d come hard. The vision of her flushed and a little glassy eyed did things to his brain that worked beautifully to the fireworks show happening in his body.
“Anne, babe,” he panted. “Help a fella out?”
“Which fella?” Anne teased.
“Hand me the remote, then give Jack a hand,” Read directed.
Anne and Jack’s eyes met again, this time in shock. It wasn’t that Read didn’t have clear desires in bed and he’d never been afraid to say what he wanted, but there had always been a certain feeling that Read was waiting for direction. That he didn’t want to jump his turn or something. It didn’t happen when they paired off, but inevitably did among the three of them. Some residual feeling of Jack and Anne as the established couple and Read as the newcomer, despite that not being true for a long time.
Not today, apparently. Read had found his place and that place was trying to drill Jack’s brain out through his asshole. It was a damn good place. Jack hoped he kept it.
With a lazy stretch, Anne got a hold of the remote and handed it to Read. A second later the pace Read had chosen went ragged and grinding.
“Works?” Jack checked.
“Oh fuck me running, it totally works,” Read laughed breathlessly, and pushed in hard. “Suck and fuck harness. You’re a mad genius.”
Anne found the bottle of lube too and a second later her hand was wrapped around Jack’s aching cock, moving with all the teasing efficiency of long knowledge. Maybe Jack was a genius, but right now he couldn’t hold more than one thought in his head and it could only be articulated by a series of groans that seemed to rise up from the depths of his soul.
“You going to come for me, Jack?” Read asked with such cool ease that Jack could only nod fruitlessly into a pillow. “That's really really hot, go on, handsome. Come on....”
Read pumped into him and Jack came hard, bucking back to make sure Read was buried to the hilt as Anne’s hand milked him dry. Time stretched, dilated then snapped back, giving him whiplash. He wasn’t even aware of Read slipping free or taking off the harness. He did pull himself out of the depths though to be thoroughly kissed, Read twining around him like a snake.
“You didn’t come,” he realized.
“S’okay. Plenty of time left in the night,” Read assured him. “It felt really good. Next time I might be able to figure out how to do it with the way you rigged it up.”
“Okay, but I could blow you right now,” Jack pointed out. “I would fucking love if you sat on my face right now.”
“Can you even roll over?” Read teased. “Seem kind of limp.”
“For that? This dog would roll over every fucking time.”
“You’re not a dog,” Read nipped at Jack’s bottom lip. “But yeah, I kinda do want to sit on your face.”
Jack rolled over and spread his arms in welcome. Read’s thighs were starting to get a little hairy and he ran his hands over them as he settled down. It was Jack’s turn to put a hand at the small of Read’s back, steadying him and getting the angle right so Jack could pleasantly suffocate as he sucked on Read’s organically grown cock. Heh. Organic cock.
Slick and worked up, Read rocked against the suction, eventually bouncing against his face in a way Anne had taken several go-arounds to assure him Jack could both take and greatly enjoyed. His nose hadn’t been broken yet though Anne had certainly given in her best shot. He loved this, being flooded and surrounded by the flex of muscle, the salt tang on his tongue and the smell of arousal buried deep in his nose.
He was almost sorry when Read came with a silent convulsion, thighs pressed tight around Jack's ears. After a few beasts, Read sat back, butt resting lightly against Jack’s chest. Jack squeezed Read's thighs, mostly just to touch. To stay connected. Then he became aware they were both staring at him. Ardently.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “Feedback on the prototype?”
“Not a prototype,” Read said immediately. “Mach 1. I love it. You don’t get to mess around with it yet.”
“But-”
“No. My cock. I like it. The packer is awesome. I’m going to love that too, I think. It feels really good. You’re...thanks, Jack. “
“Design is iterative,” he warned him. “I can’t not tinker.”
“Don’t tinker with my cock,” Read said sternly then busted out in a laugh. “It's invite-only dick."
“Okay, hotstuff,” Jack grinned. “Your cock, your design process.”
“Damn right.”
“How do we clean it?” Anne asked, already getting up and rescuing the harness. At some point while Jack had been turning over and contemplating his life choices, someone had rolled a condom on there. That was the crinkling noise. Good thinking.
“Just chuck that, should be fine,” Jack shrugged. “But it comes out of the harness, cleans the regular way. Soap, water. All that.”
Anne eyed it speculatively, popped it out of the harness then leaned over to kiss Read’s cheek. “You want to keep going?”
“Uh, yeah sure,” Read nodded. “Got something in mind?”
“I’m going to give this a wash and then I’m next!” Anne said gleefully, then danced out of the room.
Read shook his head, but didn’t object. He did swing his leg over Jack’s body and lay down beside him. His hand slid into Jack’s, his chin rested on Jack’s shoulder. They didn’t say a word, just listened to Anne clattering around the bathroom.
In a few weeks, there would be a doctor’s office and Jack would hold Read’s hand just like this while options were explained and a lot of pictures of Read’s chest would be pinned up and drawn on. They wouldn’t solve the money problem in a day, but they would work it out. Jack was engaged to two really smart people, he trusted between them and him they could do just about anything.
For right then though, he just held Read’s hand in their bed, the wet spot spreading out cold and gross under his thigh, his ass aching and his heart beating too fast.
“This was so fucking good, we should get tattoos to remember it,” he said into the silence.
“No,” Read groaned, but then asked, knowing full well Jack would answer, “What would that even look like?”
“Just get your dick tatted right on my ass with the date. ‘Read Was Here’, under that.”
“Thanks, I hate it,” Read declared, then snuggled in closer. Jack wrapped his arm around him.
“Maybe I’ll just put in my vows. 'And then he took my ass cherry and it was magical'.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Aw, they’re my vows! It’d be from the heart. And my ass.”
“No asses at our wedding.”
“That’s gonna make the invite list real short, hotstuff.”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining my afterglow.”
Anne reappeared in the doorway. Her tits bounced a little with the force of her reentry.
“No afterglow!” She pointed at Read. “Because you’re not done.”
“Sorry!” Read laughed into Jack’s chest. “You’re right. I’m up for it, bring it on, Bonny.”
Anne leaped on the bed and the night continued to earn it’s number one ranking in Jack’s spank bank for a good long while.