Chapter Text
They sit in a circle on Jeremy’s bed, mugs warming their hands and preventing Jeremy from freezing from the inside-out. They’re all fully clothed. They had only gotten as far as taking Jeremy’s shirt off before being interrupted. He’s cold even after Kevin took a blow dryer to him. Maybe it’s the antibiotic cream slathered over his scratch marks; Jean wouldn’t stop staring like a disappointed parent until Jeremy applied and taped gauze over them.
Kevin’s eyes dart between Jeremy and Jean, irises the shade of a misty field. It’s a discomforting thought that he’s experienced the least of the three in terms of sex. Especially considering Jean doesn’t have many good experiences at all.
Jeremy takes a deep breath.
“It’s not that it’s the both of you. It’s being touched by both at once—between two people. For some reason, that specifically is a trigger. I haven’t been with more than one person since…since freshman year. I didn’t know this would happen.”
“Do you want to continue with this?” Kevin asks.
He blushes despite himself but nods. “I do. I don’t want us to shut it off completely. We can find a solution.”
A loud sip of Jean’s coffee draws their attention. “The solution seems obvious. It’s simply a matter of deciding,” he shrugs, flippant.
“Deciding what?” Kevin furrows his eyebrows.
Jeremy shoots Jean a chiding look. Jean is too busy immediately and visibly regretting his words to notice. They’re all idiots and it’s a shock they’ve made it so far.
Jeremy clears his throat.
“Deciding who gets to watch.”
Kevin blinks as he glances between them. Slowly but surely, pink starts at his cheeks and rapidly spreads across his entire face, down his neck and beneath his shirt (well, Jean’s shirt. His and Jeremy’s previous clothes are in the dryer now). Watching someone so calculated look so lost is all at once funny and cringe-inducing.
Jeremy downs his coffee.
“This is fucking stupid,” Jean grumbles even though he said it aloud first, “are we supposed to vote?”
“Look at you, embracing American tradition! We have to wait for Kevin’s brain to come back online first.”
Kevin scowls at his own flustered state and tries to wipe the blush off his face. It’s adorable. “I’m fine. How exactly are we deciding?”
Anxiety radiates off the other two, concerning enough that Jeremy reigns himself in. If this is going to happen, he’ll have to lead. Despite his panic attack, he is the one who knows the most about sexual relationships with people. He’s a captain; he can guide.
“We figure out who’s the most enthusiastic about watching the other two fuck,” Jeremy explains with a very curated calmness.
The room falls into silence.
Then Jean snorts.
“Do not tell me the Queen of the Court is having a fit over the word ‘fuck’,” he jeers.
The Queen of the Court is, in fact, having a fit over the word ‘fuck’.
Kevin’s hands are shaking so hard Jeremy takes the mug from them and sets it on the nightstand. His face is burning, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, glaring at the bed. Jeremy sees his eye twitch.
“How about the two of you? I would sit out if it made you feel safe,” Jeremy offers.
Jean stills. Him and Kevin stare at each other with the bold, unadulterated terror of being matched with your crush in 7 Minutes In Heaven.
“No,” they both deadpan at once. Jeremy nods.
“Fair enough.” He sets his own empty mug down and rubs his face. Being a ringleader feels eerily similar to pet-sitting two animals that hate each other. If said animals also had years of seemingly unrequited love between them. “The choice is yours, then. Pick who gets to fuck me.”
He won’t lie to himself; it’s incredibly entertaining watching some of the world’s best Exy players flounder over him. It’s a major ego boost—one he definitely needs after having a panic attack while their lips were on his neck.
Jeremy’s back is to the headboard, so he leans against it and lets them deliberate. Except, neither of them speak. The entire first half of the conversation happens through grueling eye contact. Their intensity is unnerving.
He admires their profiles in the meantime, clenched jaws and proud posture. Jean’s hair is wildly curly; healthy because Derek forced him to learn how to care for it, evenly cut because Xavier took matters into his own hands. Kevin used to have a longer crew cut, but that was over six months ago. Now it’s grown out and wavy, unfairly attractive tucked back, bangs parted down the middle and perfectly fallen across his forehead. It’s a little infuriating to look at. David Wymack and Kayleigh Day created a modern Adonis, then gave him a personality that needs a very acquired taste to enjoy.
Both of them have small locks long enough to frame their tattooed cheekbones. Jeremy can only see Kevin’s from his angle, and the queen lays along a crescent shaped curl.
Kevin’s brows furrow.
The two burst into furious French, scaring Jeremy half to death. He's been studying, but there’s no way he can keep up with their speed and vocabulary.
Leaning closer and closer together, they snarl arguments with bared teeth. Jean shifts from crossed legs to leaning forward on his knees, rising solely to look down on Kevin. Jeremy can’t even tell if he’s the topic of conversation anymore—it’s more concerning if he still is.
Kevin spits something especially fierce—suddenly, Jean’s eyes light up.
Jean moves quick enough that Kevin can’t dodge. He grabs Kevin’s face, hand spanning across his mouth and gripping his cheeks. Jean slides a look at Jeremy.
“Kevin wants to fuck you.”
“Shut up!” Kevin hisses behind Jean’s palm. His blush looks genuinely painful. “I don’t—“
It seems Jean’s mean streak is back with a vengeance. His smile is gleeful and condescending as he forces Kevin to hold his gaze. “Kevin, ne mens pas, tell him what you need.”
Kevin tries to grumble but it comes out as a whimper.
Jeremy raises his eyebrows in interest.
From the moment Jean snapped and kissed Kevin, then naturally passed him to Jeremy like there was no other conceivable option, Jeremy assumed that he would be wedged in the middle. A proxy between the two since they struggled with one another directly. After his panic attack, he had no idea how the dynamic would shift. How uneven would it be, between Jean and Kevin’s history and Jeremy and Jean’s established relationship? Would it be an actual triangle, or a V with Jean at the center?
But this…Jeremy can definitely work with this.
“Kevin?” Jeremy says, laying seductive teasing into his tone. He crawls over to the two, Jean still clutching Kevin’s cheeks in a vice grip. He turns both their heads to look at Jeremy, Kevin’s pupils blown wide. “C’mon, Kev, tell me.”
It’s definitely cruel, ganging up on him like this. Jeremy uses his phone-sex voice, Jean pets Kevin with the hand not holding him. It’s too fun for them to leave Kevin in peace—they both tease like an Olympic sport. With a common object of affection, combining forces just amplifies their sadism.
“Y’all are despicable,” Kevin murmurs, shockingly, adorably meek.
“You have spent far too long in South Carolina,” Jean retorts.
Jeremy inches closer and Jean pivots so they don’t touch; he’s rewarded with a smile for his efforts. Jeremy cuddles up to Kevin’s side, throwing legs around his waist. Jeremy buries his fingers in wavy black hair. Barely hidden delight crosses his face as Kevin’s brain melts out his ears. He leans forward to mouth at the edge of Kevin’s jaw, gentle enough to set nerves on fire.
“Kevin,” Jeremy whispers, “you want me, don’t you?”
After his goosebumps rise, Kevin nods.
“And you want to feel good, hm?” Jean adds into his temple.
Kevin swallows a lump in his throat. He nods. Jean releases his grip and runs a finger from Kevin’s collar to his chin. Meeting his partner’s gaze, Jeremy understands what it means: I am entrusting him to you.
“Will you let me help?” Jeremy asks with a lingering kiss to Kevin’s hairline. “Will you let Jean see? Let him sit back, and watch me take you apart?”
Kevin trembles so violently Jeremy feels it through their embrace. He drags his nose across Kevin’s jaw and kisses the space behind his ear, nuzzling thick hair to the side. He smells expensive, something smoky and rich—mixed with the scent of Jean’s borrowed clothes.
“Jean—“ Kevin exhales.
Jeremy perks up, knowing that noise was important, more than just a flippant moan.
Something flickers across Jean’s expression. It’s every color on the spectrum combining into white—a blank look.
Jeremy is granted a glance in warning before Jean swoops down to devour Kevin’s mouth.
Jeremy massages Kevin’s scalp and keeps rapt attention on them. Jean cups Kevin’s face, kissing him hungrier than Jeremy has ever seen. Pressing and pulling, their chapped lips sticking together until Jean licks them moist. Kevin grips the back of his shirt in desperation and throws himself in with newfound confidence.
It seems wise to remove himself from the situation, so Jeremy unwinds from Kevin’s waist and stands up, crossing to their other side. They freeze to see what he’s doing, lips still connected as they stare, but Jeremy sets his hands on their deltoids and shoves them into laying down. Jean acknowledges it for a split second, then goes straight back to Kevin’s mouth, wedging their thighs together.
Their breathing gets harder, kisses louder. Jeremy folds his arms and watches, pleased. Arousal swims in his stomach.
Jean is ferocious. He paws at Kevin’s waist and neck, completely uncoordinated kisses shoved against Kevin’s mouth. It’s fitting, since Kevin obviously doesn’t know how to properly kiss, so he lays every emotion into Jean and bites back just as hard. Starved and juvenile. They gasp like the only air good enough to breathe is each other’s.
Heart pounding, strangely proud, Jeremy makes himself useful. He grabs their mugs and slips out the room. Dumping their coffee in the sink and rinsing the mugs, he gives himself a moment of peace.
A lifetime of trauma and pain lies between those two; they found comfort in each other until everything went wrong. Jeremy knows there’s something he’ll never comprehend about it, and that’s okay. Seeing them happy and satisfied is fulfilling enough.
There's a pull connecting all their chests; a person is always trusting one with the other. Jean trusts that Jeremy won’t hurt Kevin. Kevin trusts that Jeremy will protect Jean. Jean trusts that Kevin won’t disrespect Jeremy. Jeremy trusts that Kevin will be good to Jean. It’s a confusing, cycling emotion that sorta hurts Jeremy’s head to think about. He’ll need to draw a graph at some point.
Jeremy walks back in to find Jean pressing Kevin into the bed. Shins over thighs, hands pinning wrists. Their eyes are closed as they pant against each other, but open to track Jeremy’s return.
“Jeremy,” Kevin pleads.
“Hello,” Jean peers with a wolfish expression, “Kevin has something to say to you.”
He nods and slides onto the bed. Jeremy moves on his knees until he’s looming above Kevin, level with Jean, but not touching either.
“How much happened in the minute I was gone?” Jeremy teases. He combs his fingers through Kevin’s disheveled hair, causing him to preen like a cat.
Jean points a look at Kevin, expecting.
“Can…can we?” Kevin asks, failing to make eye contact.
“Can you what?” Jean prompts. Bending down, he rubs their cheeks together. “Be polite. If Jeremy makes me ask for explicit permission, then you must, too.”
Holding in his laugh is difficult, so Jeremy distracts himself by petting up Jean’s spine.
Kevin takes a deep breath. “Can we do this? Jean watching, and you and I—“ he winces, pained. “P-please.”
“Yeah, of course.” Jeremy smiles down at him. “Thank you for asking. I know it’s hard.”
Kevin sags in relief. Solid shoulders and twitching muscles, it’s clear that Kevin isn’t used to any of this. The attention, the affection, needing to be granted permission to do something from someone besides Andrew. His voice went hoarse and nearly angry when he said please, but he said it anyway, and Jeremy becomes incredibly aware of how arousing that is to him.
“Where do you want me?” Jean asks.
“Drag the armchair over. I want Kevin to hear anything you have to say,” he directs. Jean gets up to obey, but only after nipping the almost-gone baby fat of Kevin’s cheek. Jeremy looks down at him. “Hi, there.”
Without being blocked from view by another body, Jeremy sees how ruffled Kevin is. His shirt is rucked up, stomach showing, hair a disaster from hands run through it, flushed red everywhere. Kevin Day is notoriously attractive. Now he’s in Jeremy’s bed, peeking up with anticipation.
“Hello,” Kevin says back. “Are we really doing this?”
“As long as we all agree to it, yeah. If you wanna back out at any time, feel free. It won’t be an imposition.”
“That isn’t what I’m worried about,” he quietly admits.
Jeremy rubs the shell of Kevin’s ear as he says, “This doesn’t have to be any more complicated than previous sex.”
Kevin stares.
Inexplicably, chills roll down Jeremy’s spine.
Jean carries the armchair over and sets it a few feet away for a good view. The ease at which he lifts the furniture dries Jeremy’s mouth out. With him settling into the seat, Jeremy takes Jean’s former position straddling Kevin’s hips. He feels less guilty about his erection when he sees the tent in Kevin’s sweatpants. Jeremy keeps a polite distance, since Kevin seems terrified.
Jean clears his throat.
“Kevin has no previous experience.” The emotions in his voice are conflicted.
Jeremy blinks. He considers Kevin.
How someone so unfairly beautiful and endearing managed to go this long without it—it’s confusing to Jeremy. Maybe it had to do with location? LA is much different than West Virginia or South Carolina. Maybe it’s because Jeremy has known him for a while, but he can’t take Kevin’s rudeness or condescension seriously. Now, Kevin looks away, nervous, and it’s so fucking cute that Jeremy wants to blow his mind.
“You’re a virgin,” he whispers, prickling heat rising in his spine, “oh, Kevin.”
He has no doubt Kevin would attempt to escape if not for Jeremy’s weight in his lap. Kevin’s cheeks burn, and it’s obvious he’s been teased about it before. He grumbles and tries to look away, but Jeremy grabs his face, just as Jean had.
Kevin’s pupils blow wide enough that his green is a simple ring around the rim of his irises. Jeremy looks over to Jean, who’s examining them—examining Jeremy—like he expects something to go wrong. Expects humiliation. And Jeremy doesn’t know everything they experienced together, but Jean might have justified fear.
Jeremy isn’t a chaser. Preferably his partners will have had experience with men—with someone before him. He won’t be responsible for an experimental fling where the guy has a breakdown afterwards from fucking a dude.
In terms of consent, Jean was also a virgin. Now Kevin is here. Jeremy doesn’t give a shit about “purity” or the supposed power of taking someone’s virginity. However, the idea that he’s the first person to give someone that pleasure? That’s appealing.
He turns back to Kevin.
“Don’t worry,” Jeremy says, head cocked to the side, “I am gonna take such good care of you. Do you want that?”
“Yes.”
Giddiness sparks across Jeremy’s body.
“Where should we start? What should I do to you, hm?” When he gets a frozen Kevin in response, Jeremy kisses the tip of his nose. “Jean? Any suggestions?”
Jean grins, slow and hungry. Jeremy curses his issues, because he would do anything for his partner to be pressed up against him right now. Instead, he sighs and moves his hips closer to Kevin’s.
“He is…unrefined. Perhaps you should train some skill into him.” Jean leans back and props his chin on his fist. “He has very enthusiastic hips. Keep that in mind.”
Jeremy smiles and grinds down. Kevin gasps and bucks, the hard lines of their erections dragging against each other. Jeremy laughs, then dips to capture Kevin in a kiss.
He doesn’t carry the years of raw desire Jean does, so Jeremy remains poised and intentional with every pass. Kevin takes a few seconds to adjust; it’s typical that people lay and learn before kissing back, but Kevin is too hungry to consider that an option. He stretches and keens, chasing Jeremy’s mouth every time he retreats. They both taste like coffee when their tongues brush. Eventually, Jeremy places his palm against Kevin’s neck, keeping weight off his throat, fingers gripping his jaw to hold him down.
Kevin tries to reach back up but is stopped by Jeremy’s hold. “There we go,” Jeremy coos, “relax and take it, Kev.”
Kevin goes limp, melting into the bed. It should be shocking how obedient he is, but he comes from the Ravens same as Jean; it was trained into him despite his controlling urges. The difference is that Jean enjoys dominance for the same reason Jeremy does; providing pleasure through complete control. Kevin hasn’t shown a single sign of desiring control during this affair.
Jean speaks up from his chair. “You are allowed to touch him, Kevin. Go on, you have been wanting to for years.”
Jeremy rips away. “Years?!”
In response, Kevin groans, exasperated. “I had a lot of Trojans merchandise. Jean and I used to spend…far too long staring at your picture.”
His vision blacks out, head rushing a hundred miles an hour. Well that’s a perspective shift. Realizing he’s had nearly five years worth of promotional content for them to pick through and collect is terrifying. He’s twenty-two. Kevin is twenty, and Jean a year younger than that. The thought that they could have been flipping through magazines and lingering on his image since age sixteen is baffling.
“Oh my god,” Jeremy mutters, face ablaze, “touch me all you want. You’ve earned it at this point.”
Kevin lights up like a kid on Christmas, and Jean snorts somewhere to their left.
“It is a shame we cannot use that as blackmail anymore,” Jean complains. “We have been threatening each other with it since Kevin first got your phone number.”
“That is adorable.” Jeremy takes turns grinning at them before locking onto Kevin. “Anything specifically you’ve had your eye on?”
It honestly shouldn’t surprise Jeremy as much as it does when Kevin gropes the backs of his thighs. “You have no idea,” he grits out, then swallows Jeremy’s laugh.
This time around, Kevin is much more reigned in. He stays against the mattress, mimicking Jeremy’s rhythm as they kiss. Despite that, there’s rolling fire under Kevin’s skin; potential energy indicating he wants more. He’s having an easier time laying still now that he can heft Jeremy in by the thighs, pressing himself into the bed.
Jeremy settles his weight fully onto Kevin’s lap. He moves Kevin’s hands to his ass and cups his neck, caressing the point of his jaw with both thumbs. Instead of lifting Jeremy closer, Kevin ruts them together.
“Desperate,” Jean says, sounding far too pleased. “Does that feel good, Kevin?”
Jeremy grinds down, calculated and slow. Kevin gasps, then moans affirmation to Jean through the next kiss. It’s a nice little discovery when Jeremy finds out just how turned on he can get by Kevin whining ‘uh-huh’.
Many a lap has had Jeremy planted in it, and many a lap has been ground against, but Kevin moves differently. His entire life has been training to be the best. Strength and agility and endurance and competence. Kevin knows every inch of his body and exactly how to move the pieces. When Kevin finally gets a feel for necking, his hips roll more smoothly and with more precision than anyone Jeremy has ever been with.
Jeremy has experience and interpersonal knowledge; Kevin has desperation and the need to please; Jean has pure hunger and fire, encompassing anyone he’s with.
They stay lip-locked until Jeremy is confident in Kevin’s ability to kiss somebody stupid. Holding him in place, Jeremy pecks just above his mouth and across his left cheekbone. Pursing his lips dramatically, Jeremy smacks a kiss right on the queen with an obnoxious noise.
Kevin snickers. It’s genuine, Jeremy knows, and that makes how mean and fox-like his laughter sounds even funnier. Jeremy nuzzles against Kevin’s neck.
Stubble scratches Jeremy’s face when he drags his mouth across Kevin’s jaw. Soft, warm and wet, he trails every exposed inch of Kevin’s left side. The man under him shivers, taking guidance of their hips. Tempo rolls like waves, rising and falling. Jeremy sways along with it.
“You’d be fun to ride,” Jeremy whispers into Kevin, stomach twitching each time they rub together. “I could fuck you for hours like this. I think Jean could, too.”
“God Dammit,” Kevin hisses at the air.
Jeremy stays against his throat while peering toward Jean. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have Kevin here for a while? Keep him in your lap, planted on your cock, squirming.”
Jean’s eyes widen. Jeremy nods permission, and only after that does Jean reach down to palm himself through his sweats. Kevin’s next moan sounds more like a pathetic whimper, hips stuttering at the thought. Bingo.
“You have no idea how good Jean is, Kev. He fills me up completely. Stuffs me so full I feel it for days, can’t sit down without being reminded of it. He’s meticulous, too. Takes me apart inch by inch then puts me back together again. And he’s gorgeous with my dick down his throat, y’know? All curly hair and blushing cheeks and shit—he’s so good at begging with his eyes. He’s doing it right now, see?”
Blood pumps through Jeremy so hot it nearly hurts. Focusing on anything besides narrating loud enough for Jean and grinding on Kevin is impossible.
Kevin, who definitely looks like he’s about to cum in his pants—mouth agape, eyes all glassy and darting between the two. Jean isn’t any better off based on how he’s rutting against his hand.
“And that’s only when he’s on top.” Jeremy gasps and reaches to grope Kevin’s pec, dragging his shirt fabric against the nipple for delicious friction. “Or, I guess giving, because he loves being on top even when I’m fucking him. Jean can ride me into the fucking mattress. All I can do is lay there and take it ‘cause his ass is good enough to make my brain melt.”
The loudest sound in the room is their panting and choked groans.
“Jeremy, Jeremy, please—“
Sitting up, Jeremy catches sight of Kevin’s eyes rolled far back in his skull. He tries to speak again, but he’s shaking like a leaf. Jeremy grins, a little cruel and a lot exhilarated.
“What’s the matter, Kev? You gonna cum?” He teases, pinching Kevin’s nipple between his knuckles. “Go on, do it. I can pull another few out of you by the end of this.”
Kevin’s hips buck several more times, and Jeremy rolls into each one. His moans get higher and higher pitched—a sound no one would ever assume Kevin Day could make—then, like a punch to the gut, he gasps. Jeremy feels Kevin’s orgasm between his own legs. Kevin’s grip on Jeremy’s ass gets bruising, movements less and less controlled. Jeremy works him through it, kneads his pecs through his shirt as Kevin’s jaw clenches. A wet spot forms in front of his sweats.
Completely breathless, Kevin heaves like this is the most difficult match he’s ever played.
“Perfect, Kev. Nice and beautiful like this.”
He curls Kevin’s hair around his fingers, petting up and down his chest while Kevin’s soul returns to his body. Green eyes blink several times in an attempt to focus, still trembling.
“Jean, would you mind grabbing a few water bottles?” Jeremy asks. His partner, despite his spread legs and incredibly noticeable erection, nods and stands. Jeremy watches in adoration as Jean stumbles out of the room without question. “Hey, pretty boy, you there?”
“Yeah,” Kevin croaks, “yeah.”
“Did you like it?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Jeremy cups his face, rubbing his thumbs over Kevin’s cheekbones, hot to the touch. “I did, too. I’m like, giddy about it. Your hips are incredible, by the way. And you’re so cute when you’re losing your mind.”
Kevin blinks like he doesn’t believe it, and he might have argued had Jean not re-entered with bottles in his hands. Jeremy can pinpoint the exact moment Kevin’s gaze lands on the tent in Jean’s pants, because his eyes widen comically. Jean passes Jeremy a bottle and brings the other two to his chair for safekeeping.
“Jean?” Jeremy calls. He offers his hand, and Jean places his own on it. Jeremy bends down to kiss each knuckle. “Thank you.”
Jean bows his head slightly. “Of course.”
He settles back into his seat, so Jeremy twists the cap off the bottle and sits Kevin up, cupping his neck. Kevin moves to grab it, but Jeremy shakes his head with a dismissive hum, so he drops his hands. Carefully, Jeremy presses the rim to Kevin’s lips and tilts the bottle. Kevin drinks obediently, and as soon as he looks done, Jeremy pulls it away. He chugs a few gulps himself, then recaps it and tosses it to Jean.
“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Jeremy turns to his partner and squishes Kevin’s cheeks.
Jean scoffs. “For you, maybe. We all know what a diva he is, elsewhere.”
Jeremy shrugs. “If you fuck him stupid, he may calm down a little.” Kevin chokes on nothing and avoids eye contact. The jolt stimulates Jeremy’s cock, hard against Kevin’s stomach. Jeremy loops his arms around Kevin’s neck and pets in an effort to keep him still.
“That is an idea,” Jean murmurs. He scrubs a hand over his mouth, considering. A pang of arousal runs up Jeremy’s spine.
“Are…” Kevin says suddenly. Softly. “Are we done?”
Jeremy keeps his tone and expression neutral. “Do you want to be?”
“No. No, I don’t, but…” He gestures to the seat of his pants, where his cum has soaked into the fabric.
Jeremy is not one to humiliate—otherwise he’d tell Kevin that he looks like a massive virgin, right now. He doesn’t even think it negatively; more like how cute some pathetic animals are.
Jeremy smiles far too sharply. “That’s only one. If you feel up to it, I can keep going ‘til there’s nothing left.”
“His record is four,” Jean agrees grimly, frowning into his bottle. The bob of his throat as he drinks is distracting.
Kevin looks between them. “Two each?”
Jean shakes his head. His face appears haunted despite how much he loved it—he’s probably trying to scare Kevin. Jeremy glares playfully at him.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I had a hangover the next morning from dehydration!” Jean argues.
“Hence the water now.” Jeremy chooses to ignore him in favor of running a knuckle under Kevin’s chin, stroking like a cat. “How about it, baby? Wanna keep going?”
Blank eyes watch him. It seems he’s killed Kevin with a pet name. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Kevin blinks. “Yes…Sir?”
Jeremy gapes at him, “I was looking for a please.”
“Oh,” Kevin blushes over his scowl, “thank God. Yes, please, Jeremy.”
“Interesting,” Jean taunts. “Anything to share with us, Kevin?”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to call either of you Sir. That feels fucking weird.”
“Would ‘Coach’ be better?”
“You asked permission so much easier than before. Didn’t stutter or anything. Good job, Kev,” Jeremy says, patting his head. “You’re so well behaved.”
That stuns him into silence easily. Jeremy keeps poking and prodding, finding soft spots everywhere that melt Kevin into something smaller. Sweeter. Kevin preens in response, looking so pleased with himself. Jeremy can’t help but pet Kevin’s hair, combing the wavy black strands through his fingers.
“Kevin, baby, how do you wanna continue?” Light sparks in Kevin’s eyes but he snuffs out the flame just as fast. Not fast enough for Jeremy to miss it—but the speed at which Kevin can kill his own enthusiasm is disturbing. “Tell me. I wanna know.”
Lost, Kevin darts his gaze between Jeremy and Jean. First, their faces, then, the obvious bulges in their pants where neither had cum yet. It’s astonishing that they’re all fully dressed.
“You said…” Kevin begins, more cautiously meek than Jeremy has ever heard him. “Being between me and Jean wasn’t an option. Would it be the same if…I was between you two?”
Jeremy shares a curious glance with Jean.
“I’m not sure actually,” he admits, “but what do you have in mind?”