Work Text:
Coriolanus Snow was the most beautiful boy Lucy Gray had ever seen.
West Virginia’s Sprawling mountains and dinky small towns had sheltered her most of her life. She’d seen nearly the whole state in her youth. Foster care had ensured that, never letting her cousins and her stay in one place for too long, but she’d grown accustomed to the same sort of people her whole life. The faces all melded together, the Scarlett drawls all sounded the same, and it was a lonely childhood, not that she didn’t have her cousins around her; she’d shared rooms with them her whole life; paneled wood walls that smelled like smoke, multiple twin beds crammed into one room, Maude Ivory tucked into her arms, snoring into her chest as the sun rose over the blue-tinged mountains. She was never alone, but always lonely. Occasionally, there would be a boy, but they’d always fade quickly. Before university, the longest she’d ever been in a relationship was with her classmate, bandmate, and on-and-off lover, Billy Taupe. But even they’d fade away, for times, sometimes months, and then fade back together, and then away; like a flickering porchlight, attracting clouds of moths, and, as her cousin Barb Azure would put it, a series of poor life choices. But eventually, and entirely too late, she put her foot down, and he faded too, albeit more abruptly than the others, with the slam of a door and a box of his things hurled at his head.
Then an acceptance letter, a full-ride scholarship, and a prestigious university in the north with a renowned music program.
Tearful goodbyes, promises to call, and Maude Ivory running barefoot down the road, calling out to her:
‘Don’t forget about us when you're famous, Lucy Gray!’
Her daddy’s old jeep, somehow still running after all these years, an open road, and a new beginning.
And then, Coriolanus Snow.
Because they always knew just how to find her, didn’t they?
He’d sat next to her in their Anthropology 101 class, been her assigned class partner for the semester-long project that brought them together. And of course, the most beautiful boy she’d ever met. It was no exaggeration, not a case of lovesick face blindness, Lucy Gray never had to utter the words: ‘it’s just a bad angle’ when she’d slide her phone over to her cousins. There was no bad angle. He was utterly gorgeous; it was an objective fact. Tall, lithe, pale, but not sickly, like a marble statue, effortlessly sculpted until the artist set down the chisel and said: ‘There, perfect.’ The edge of his jaw and the regal slope of his nose made her heart flutter in her chest the first time he leaned down to her in class, soft blonde curls fluttering over his baby blue eyes as he’d softly asked,
‘Would you like to come over to my apartment to study for the exam?’
People stopped in the hallways to stare at him as he walked by. The baristas at the overpriced coffee shop she always dragged him to tripped over themselves to be the ones to take his order, smiles dropping once she snaked her arm through his. And every time she’d just smile at them, because she could never find it in herself to blame them.
Coriolanus Snow was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen, and there was nothing, as infuriating as it was, that he could do to change it.
Not even now, knelt on the mattress between her spread legs, chin tucked into his flushed chest, sweaty curls falling over his bright red face, helplessly tugging at his limp cock, “Just give me a moment, baby, I think it'll…” he trailed off, sighing in frustration.
In their shared bedroom, the rapid turns of the overhead fan blew cold air on her naked body. She thought, a little dejectedly, that it had been the only thing in that room that gave her goosebumps and made her shiver for a long time. She looked up at him, “Did you want me to try to—“
“No, no, just lie there,” he gave his wrist a few twists, muttering curses under his breath.
Her eyes trailed past him, watching the blades of the fan squeak with every turn as it teetered slightly off course. One of them, she wasn’t going to name names, insisted it remained on at all times because the room was too stuffy, but she was half convinced the old, shuddering thing was going to fall from the ceiling at any moment and send them to an early, but objectively hilarious, grave.
“I’m so glad my humiliation is hilarious to you,” his smooth, sarcastic tenor, laced with a little more hurt than he was willing to admit, broke her train of thought.
She leaned up, kissing the frown on his plush lips, “Wasn’t laughing at you, darlin’.” She nipped his chin, “Promise. Just thinking about the fan,” she jerked her chin up, narrowly missing his jaw as he leaned back to glower at her, “Great. So, I’m boring you?”
Coriolanus was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. He was also incredibly sensitive. He’d never admit it himself, of course, but if there was a god out there, one who blessed him with good looks and a whip-smart brain, his hand must have slipped when giving him his ego. Choosing peace, she ignored the comment, reaching to cover his fingers with her smaller ones, “Baby, let me try-“
“Don’t.”
That really set her off. Those choice little words always did, dismissing her opinion and her autonomy in one breath. But before she could let her frustration simmer, he continued, softly sighing, “This was supposed to be for you. Just lie there, and keep your eyes on me, okay?”
The smooth control of his tone made her flutter a bit, but that resolve faltered a bit when her eyes drifted to his pretty fingers, and his soft cock between them, still considerable, mind you, even useless. She’d never thought she’d find herself calling one pretty, but even soft, his cock was utterly gorgeous, all pink and—
“Not it. Me.” He grunted.
She folded her hands over her sternum and cocked her head challengingly, staring into his eyes.
A beat passed, and then another petulant sigh, “What are you doing, Lucy Gray?”
“Starin’ at you?” She drawled, batting her eyelashes.
“Okay, well, it's making me uncomfortable.”
“Well, it’s what you wanted!” She cried, sitting up.
“I know!” He blurted, both hands coming up to wring his curls in frustration, he dragged them down his face, “I know what I said, it’s just… this isn’t going to work.”
He groaned, throwing himself beside her, and she reached over, petting the mop of curls nestled into the pillow beside her, scratching around his ear, sticking out from the scrunched pillow the way he likes, “Baby, don’t be embarrassed. It happens to a lot of guys—“
His muffled voice cut her off, “Not what I want to hear you say right now.”
She bit her cheek. “Right, I’m sorry. I’ll just lie back down and be quiet. Since I can't seem to do anything right tonight.” She mumbled the last part lowly under her breath; she hadn’t meant the childishness, but she’d admit that his recurring issue over the last few months, paired with his increased moodiness about said issue, was starting to get to her.
He lifted his head, tone entirely too condescending for her liking, “That’s not what I meant.” She sighed once again, this time in the way she knew conveyed to him that she was pissed off, and he wasn’t far off from sleeping alone in the extra room tonight.
“Hey, no,” he reached over, kissing across her collarbones, “that’s not how I meant it to come across, I’m sorry.” He cooed.
She kissed the top of his curls, extending the olive branch. “The doctor said this could happen,” she offered. Another muffled groaned vibrated against her chest in response.
It was an assumption; he never brought up the doctor’s appointment beyond a vague, ‘it was fine.’ She understood his flightiness with the matter; she didn’t exactly grow up in a town that understood mental health, but at least she had her supportive cousins, and not a conservative grandmother and years of rigid, upper-crust private schooling. She was pragmatic enough to understand that, inevitably, everyone was a product of their upbringing, no matter how frustratingly stubborn that might make them.
And he was beautiful, her boy, but endlessly frustrating. Neurotic and controlling in equal measures. Prone to giving her the cold shoulder, prone to showing up at her dorm in the early hours of the morning because she missed a single call from him, prone to tantrums and paranoid accusations, followed by apologetic kisses and groveling apologies.
But she wouldn’t have it any other way, would she?
Her boy. Here in her arms, in her life. And she truly did want him there, for all the frustration it had brought in the past; they never dulled those moments of joy. Because, perhaps despite her better judgment, she truly did love him. All of him. Coriolanus Snow: radiant and effortlessly charming to everyone around him. Coriolanus Snow: intelligent and hardworking.
Coriolanus Snow: prone to intense episodes of anxiety.
Episodes, maybe aren’t the right word. It was the word his therapist, or more specifically, his second therapist, because allegedly the first was ‘out to get him,’ used. But Lucy Gray would describe it as more of a constant state of Coriolanus’s being. The constant desire to wear the rigid mask of ‘effortlessly perfect outstanding young man’, to hide the things he hated, the things that made him weak. Which, to her, were the things that made him human, and things she loved so much about him. But her boy, for whatever reason, was convinced he could control those things, bottle them all inside, and store them on the shelf next to the attachment issues and somewhere in between the implication of a Mormon upbringing and internalized homophobia. But try as he might, he couldn’t, and sometimes, those bottles would overflow, pouring through the cracks of his mask. Sleepless nights, tossing and turning next to her, becoming withdrawn at every inconvenience. When she noticed he’d gone nearly a week without shaving, she was concerned. When she caught him wearing sweatpants to his classes, she was very concerned.
When she told him it was time to consider talking to a professional, he laughed in her face. She’d stood up, blinked the tears out of her eyes, and wordlessly begun packing her things in a duffel bag.
He made the appointment that night.
He even started seeing the therapist they recommended to him and, with a little more pushing, started taking the medication they prescribed him. As it turns out, a difficult childhood, the constant high expectations of a secret scholarship kid, and a lack of education on the complexities of mental health did, in fact, sow the seeds of his crippling fear of being known. They argued about it often, their little differences of mentality, per se. To be fair, they argued about many things, often. Sometimes it was petty, little spats ending in kisses or cellophane-wrapped flowers from the nice grocery store uptown, sometimes they ended in a little more. The two ‘breaks’ they’d taken their first two years of school were evidence of that.
But she came back to him, and then he came back to her.
A few days before he did, that second time, she’d sobbed in her dorm bed, accepting the comforts of her then-roommate and now best friend, Coral.
“I think y’all two need a mediator or something, somebody to step in and tell him to pull his head outta his ass and to tell you to grow a backbone.”
The words were perhaps a little harsh, but strangely, she’d clung to them. A mediator. What an interesting, and highly ironic thought, considering the strange course of events that occurred their junior year, not long after their second break.
The door of their apartment opening and closing took her from her thoughts. Coriolanus lifted his head from her chest at the sound.
Enter Sejanus Plinth, said mediator.
Okay, well, that’s not really what Sejanus was. He was many things: kind, empathetic, also ridiculously handsome, especially because, unlike Coriolanus, he didn’t know it. She remembers their first encounter, her freshman year, when Coriolanus had invited her to his apartment. She had been excited, considering all the older boys she’d seen in the past had lived in trailers, not apartments, and had been anxiously fretting over what to wear the whole day leading up to.
As it turned out, it didn’t really matter what she wore, given that only twenty minutes after she’d crossed the threshold of the apartment, Coriolanus had her dress on the floor and his head between her thighs and once she’d gone to find a towel afterwords, she accidentally found Sejanus’s bedroom, and inside, Sejanus, clad in only headphones and bright red boxers with Christmas trees on them. It was August. She’d blushed like a schoolgirl, not just because she was only wearing Coriolanus’s t-shirt, but also because the boy in front of her was nothing short of adorable; all dark curls and freckled skin, all thick and broad and strong, but oh, so adorable.
She's not sure how it happened, neither are either of her boys, and at this point, people had stopped asking; all they knew was that at some juncture, the couple that had gotten into the screaming match in the parking lot of the campus library were back together, now with a third.
It had been Sejanus, urging Coriolanus to ‘please just go’ while Lucy Gray packed her duffel bag.
It had been Sejanus who sat them both down and explained to them how even if Coriolanus didn’t have some sort of chronic anxiety disorder, the pills could help, and if not, Coriolanus could wean off them, and they could try something else.
It had been Sejanus, holding both of their hands, telling them that they'd get through whatever happened next together.
And it had been Coriolanus who agreed, because try as they might, they couldn’t change him, the pills wouldn’t neither, but it was worth a shot, just for a little while.
She’d been hesitant about the pills herself, not exactly a fan of ol’ big pharma, but the prescription helped. At first, he complained in earnest about the array of symptoms, then he was convinced they did nothing for him, implying the doctor was some sort of snake oil salesman, but shockingly, he stuck with them. And for several weeks, he started to feel and even sleep better. It’s not like the pills fixed him, but they helped him, and that was enough for Lucy Gray’s support. The only problem was the lingering side effects. The nausea and shakiness passed quickly. The night sweats, not so much, but he was diligent about changing the sheets, and Sejanus wasn’t much better, hence his insistence about the fan. Point was, they could get over it.
The erectile dysfunction was tricky, though. It wasn’t the end of the world, certainly not. Just, the end of her sex life, given that Coriolanus could already barely handle the emotional drain of his impotence, but if he’d caught wind Sejanus and Lucy Gray were enjoying each other without him, not that they did often anyway, he’d say it was fine, but sulk around the house with his kicked puppy eyes and then they would all feel terrible.
Sejanus’s voice echoed throughout the apartment, “I got Chinese food! Who's hungry!”
She quirked an eyebrow at Coriolanus, who just shrugged and kissed her nose, “I’m good, but I do need to shower.” He pushed himself off her and sauntered over to the closet, shutting the door behind him.
When she redressed and padded into the kitchen, Sejanus was already flitting about fixing her plate; he had a habit of doing that, since they’d all moved in together, he’d taken one look at her eating habits and threw his arms up in frustration, “The two of you eat like birds, no wonder you two always have headaches! And on that note, neither of you are drinking enough water!” So, he bought them entirely too expensive water bottles and fixed their lunches for the week, and it never failed to make her heart flutter. Sejanus looked over his shoulder, “He’s not hungry?”
He’d grown a beard over the last few months, only making him more handsome in her eyes. He’d come into the bathroom while she was braiding her hair one evening, pointing at the lower half of his face, “I’m thinking of shaving it.”
She nearly threw her hairbrush at him, “Why?!”
“I’m worried about my Pediatrics internship,” He frowned, “I don’t want the kids to think I’m intimidating.”
She turned around, looking at the giant teddy bear clad in Winnie the Pooh scrubs, and laughed so hard she thought she was going to faint.
She sat down at the table, “Nope, he’s gonna shower.”
Sejanus hummed, setting a steaming bowl down in front of her as he sat down. She only got a few small bites in before he spoke, “You okay? And don’t say I’m fine.” He placed his large, warmer hand on her own, a gesture that always made her feel safe.
“I’m fine—Sorry, force of habit,” She set her fork down, because, and they teased her endlessly for it, she was useless with chopsticks, “Just…we tried earlier and…”
Sejanus immediately nodded, understanding her before she even finished, “Yeah, I get it, it’s been hard.” She snorted, and he swatted her arm gently. They ate in silence for a bit before he broke it once again, “Are you feeling okay about it?”
She shrugged. She wasn’t truthfully. Things were hard for her, too. Damn it. She tried not to let it get to her. There were worse things in the world than not having mind-blowing sex with your two hot boyfriends, and Coriolanus was doing better; she should be happy for chrissakes!
But it wasn’t just about sex; it was about Coriolanus’s never-ending frustration. Not about them, but about himself, it seemed that no matter what happened, pills or no pills, hard as a rock, or soft between his legs, He just couldn’t let go. Maybe it was true what they say, you never shake your baggage.
Sejanus rubbed her shoulders, “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain how you feel.”
The sound of drawers opening and slamming shut echoed from the other room. Sejanus turned his head at the sound, “Is he okay?”
She didn’t answer the question; they both knew the answer. “You’re the science guy,” she laughed humorlessly, “any end in sight to this?”
Sejanus shrugged, “Maybe.”
“Thats not very helpful.”
He snorted, “It often isn’t. I got put on something similar when I was younger, my parents took me off it because I got these wicked migraines, and they hated the idea of me taking pills anyway.” He sighed, “Side effects are side effects, not much you can do about them.”
“Can’t he try Viagra?”
“You think he’ll go to the doctor and ask for Viagra?”
“No, but…”
“Lucy Gray, I know you're upset right now, but—“
“I’m not!” She hissed, before lowering her voice so their third couldn't hear, “He’s upset Sejanus, and it’s killin’ you just as much as it is me to see him like this.” Sejanus was silent a while, staring at her the way he looked at things he couldn’t fix, with so much empathy it gnawed at his very insides. It won’t be easy for him, but he’s gonna make a damn good doctor, that much she’ll always say.
“Sometimes there are problems you can’t fix,” Sejanus hummed, “This is something he was to work through himself.”
“This bein’?”
“Everything.”
“Just once,” she laughed, “Just once I wish you’d say somethin’ truly stupid and I could tell you to shut it.” She let him take her into his warm arms. He kissed the top of her head gently,
“That being said, I have an idea.” She quirked an eyebrow. He grinned, “its real creative, though.”
“Oh,” she nodded, creative could mean many things with Sejanus, it could mean a different brand of pasta noodles for dinner, or it could mean the two of them inside her at the same time. It was a very broad spectrum.
“Just trust me,” he winked, although Sejanus didn’t know how to wink properly, so he just blinked at her. She giggled, tapping his scrunched nose, “I’ll try, darlin’.” It wasn’t her he was worried about, though. New things were hard for Coriolanus, who’d been buying the same brand of underwear since he was fourteen. New sex things were even harder—damn it, she’s not doing this intentionally!—for Coriolanus, who spent most of his teenage years assuming he’d wait till marriage, and even still treated his past casual rendezvous as something to be deeply ashamed of. Don’t get it wrong, he was an attentive lover. He just needed a little nudging when it came to branching out beyond his comfort level. One time, they’d gotten him to confess his wildest fantasy. And in a low, shameful voice, he said:
Bondage.
At first, they were confused, and Lucy Gray, who will admit she had seen, and maybe even enjoyed, some questionable things after she finally got a smartphone and unrestricted internet access not shared with her cousins, immediately thought of hardcore bindings and ballgags. Sejanus was on the same page, rubbing over Coriolanus’s back as he nodded earnestly, “Oh, like Shibari?” Coriolanus’s head had shot off the pillow, eyes narrowing as he asked, “Who’s Shibari?”
Handcuffs.
He’d meant handcuffs. And not anything more. Just handcuffs. Lucy Gray didn’t even want to entertain confessing hers after he’d said that.
Their aforementioned third sauntered into the kitchen, smiling at their playful exchange, “How was your lab?”
“Boring,” Sejanus pushed himself out of the chair, wrapping a thick arm around his waist, “Missed you,” he murmured into the taller boys’ lips.
Coriolanus hummed, leaning into the kiss, “Yeah?”
And call her greedy, but she’d never deny herself this sight.
Sejanus pulled back, pushing his thumb against Coriolanus’s hip bone through his shorts. Coriolanus’s sharp eyes darted to her, lounging on the wooden denying room chair, enjoying her dinner and her show, as if to say: you put him up to this? Before Coriolanus could protest, Sejanus whispered into his ear.
“Sejanus, I’m not sure if—“
“Just trust me?” Sejanus kissed his temple, looking at him through his hooded puppy eyes. Coriolanus huffed, a little flustered, even after all this time. Coriolanus shot them both a skeptical look before he shut the bathroom door behind himself. They heard the squeak of a handle, then the hiss of the water, and waited as Coriolanus took himself a long, hot shower.
They changed, her into the bathrobe Coriolanus bought her after she teased him about his own, and Sejanus out of his scrubs, Monsters Inc today, and into a pair of grey sweatpants.
When Coriolanus finally emerged in a cloud of steam, toweling his curls and adjusting his bathrobe casually, like he wasn’t stunning. Creamy skin still tinged red from the water, and curls hanging lowly around his eyes. He’d neglected his usual meticulously scheduled haircut, and allowed and often allowed a couple strays to hang over his eyes, unstyled. Something she thought only made him more beautiful, and something she’d show her appreciation very eagerly, if his body would just cooperate. She shifted apprehensively; Sejanus hadn’t filled her in on what exactly tonight entailed. She highly doubted he had some sort of magic technique to fix their lover's sleepy dick, but she trusted him and leaned back, giving Coriolanus the same look she knew damn well could have him on his knees pleading if she wanted it.
“Go lie down on the bed, darlin’.” He quirked a thin eyebrow at her, but shockingly obeyed, settling himself onto the pillows.
Sejanus followed until his knees hit the bed, and then, pursued on all fours, crawling over their boy, sprawling against the plush pillows like a pampered prince, and she bet he knew it too, her vain boy.
“Hello,” Coriolanus hummed teasingly, trying desperately to seem impassive, but Lucy Gray could see right through him, hear the husky tone of desire in his voice, and notice his eyes fixing on the way Sejanus’s biceps flexed with his movements, watching the way his hands flexed on the sheets on either side of the thinner boys shoulders, caging him in.
“Hi,” Sejanus leaned in, mumbling the words against Coriolanus’s jaw before catching his lips between his teeth. Coriolanus let him, opening his mouth so Sejanus could suck on his bottom lip and drop to his forearms, carding his thick hands through his golden curls, dragging a pleased hum from the blonde boy.
Lucy Gray drank the sight like a glass of iced tea, sweet and pleasant, washing through her like waves of pleasure and making heat coil in her lower belly. She did not move from her seat; instead, she tilted her head and flashed Coriolanus a sweet smile when he caught her eye.
Sejanus broke this kiss, nipping at Coriolanus’s chin when he tried to follow. He worked his way down his body, kissing at his exposed neck and chest, letting his beard scratch against the pale skin in the way Coriolanus loved.
And she watched eagerly as Sejanus’s fingers, all thick and blunt and attractive, plucked the knot of the robe loose with impressive dexterity. He brushed the barrier aside, opening Coriolanus up like a present and kissing every inch of skin he revealed. Coriolanus watched, enamored and carding his hands encouragingly through the short curls on top of Sejanus’s head as it drifted downwards, stopping to suck at the protruding ridge of his hipbone.
And that ripped an eager, pleading noise from Coriolanus’s chest, one that nearly caused Lucy Gray to shudder herself.
But his eagerness faltered once Sejanus’s head ducked below his hips, pushing away the last of the robe, letting it fall open on either side of Coriolanus’s body.
Sejanus leaned over to mouth at Coriolanus’s thigh, sucking purple marks into the ivory skin, and giving Lucy Gray a view of Coriolanus’s soft cock, sitting flaccid against fine, golden curls smattered across his pelvis.
Coriolanus’s blue eyes flicked ruefully at the ceiling, “That’s…about all you're going to get,” he grumbled. The sound of his voice, his usual airy tenor now scratchy with embarrassment, made her heart twinge in her chest. Her poor boy, so cultivated and self-assured, and so humiliated at the idea of his body betraying him.
In one of his more vulnerable moments, they pulled the confession out of him. Those pretty blue eyes wavered as he whispered,
‘I just feel like I can’t please you guys anymore.’
They’d reassured him the best they could, but Lucy Gray knew how insecurity could eat away at him. She’d given him a lot of grace these last few months, not too much, but enough to help balm his wounded ego. She knew, as painfully sensitive as Coriolanus could be at times, that this particular insecurity was…tender…for him. But stronger than her urge to rise to her feet and rush over to him, and kiss that insecurity away, was her trust in Sejanus.
Sejanus detached his lips from the bruise he’d been working into the top of Coriolanus’s thigh, lifting his head and smiling at the blonde boy, even though he would not take his eyes off the ceiling fan, spinning rapidly above them. His smile shifted to a lazy grin, one that would bring his dimples to the surface had his cheeks not been covered in thick, dark hair, and in that husky, whiskey-smooth voice, he whispered out.
“It’s all I need, honey.”
And, oh, that voice had her gripping the arms of the desk chair like a lifeline. Sejanus had given her no instructions other than: “just sit back and enjoy yourself”, because even his attempts of being in charge were selfless, but Lucy Gray was unsure of when exactly she could start enjoying herself, she wanted to, she really did, and she’d never been exactly good at not indulging in life’s simple pleasures; a shot of white liquor, a dress on the rack that she just knew she’d look good in, a hand between her legs.
One night, the three of them sat around their dining room table, half empty bottle of vodka between them as they played some iteration of a drinking game that devolved into them asking each other increasingly personal questions. Sejanus had drunkenly asked his at the time strictly platonic roommate how many times he masturbated a week, given just how long his showers took, and in hindsight, how did she not know then?
The official ranking was Coriolanus at twice, Sejanus at four, and Lucy Gray also at four, unless they were counting individual orgasms, in which she trumped them both combined at eight.
And just the memory of the hungry, drunken looks they’d given each other that night? Sejanus’s brown eyes dropping to the bulge in Coriolanus’s khakis, Coriolanus's wolfish gaze on her breasts, and the way she couldn’t pull her eyes off Sejanus’s biceps stretching through his white shirt.
She shivered, traced her middle finger teasingly between her legs as she remembered that now, the wait was over and they were right here in front of her, and shivered harder.
And Coriolanus did too, even gave a weak, little twitch at it. And yet, he refused to meet their gaze, still staring stubbornly at the ceiling. It did not deter Sejanus in the slightest, who licked his lips as he tilted his head to stare lovingly between Coriolanus’s legs.
The room was silent except for the rushing noises of the blades of the ceiling fan Coriolanus continued to study, over the tilt of his cut jaw, she watched his cheeks flush.
“It’s cold in here.” He said thickly.
Sejanus laughed at that, and Lucy Gray felt a rush of air leave her nostrils. She tilted her head fondly, resting her cheek into an open palm, her other hand still tracing delicate circles around herself to send small nips of pleasure up her spine.
From her adjusted angle, she could see the side of his handsome face, his high cheekbones, and the slope of his nose. His sharp jaw ticked at their amusement, “Not funny, you two.”
“Pretty, is what it is.” Sejanus cooed, resting contentedly against Coriolanus’s thigh.
Lucy Gray hummed in agreement. Pretty indeed. Prettiest she’d ever seen by far, even now, pink and placid between his legs. “Pretty cock on a pretty boy,” she drawled, dragging out the words in a way that brought out the accent she knew he secretly loved.
“Stop,” Coriolanus grumbled, shifting away from Sejanus, who caught him by the hip and pinned him, reaching up to scrape his thumb gently against the length of him.
“Sooo pretty. Even when it’s cold in here.” Sejanus teased, blowing gently on his tip, causing Coriolanus’s whole body to twitch. He clasped a pale hand over his face, trying to hide the growing blush, and the other reached down to swat Sejanus away and cover his nudity,
“Stop you two, I mean it,” Coriolanus warned.
“Oh, we don’t want to stop. Right, Lucy Gray?” Sejanus quirked his brow at her, and she hummed her agreement, feeling that familiar tingling pleasure of her nerves at the heat in his gaze.
Confidence, like gray sweatpants, was never not attractive on Sejanus Plinth.
She pressed harder along the seam of herself, the sharp shocks of pleasure forcing her to fight to keep her voice even in the quiet room, “He’s right, baby. Now move those hands, let us see our pretty boy, and his pretty, pretty cock.”
Coriolanus lifted his hands, but only to snatch his robe, sitting up and throwing it back on in a huff. Both their faces fell, and her fingers retreated to her thigh, “Baby, don’t be like that—” She called.
He ignored her, standing and fumbling with the belt, “No, this is stupid. It’s not going to work, and I feel even shittier when you guys—“
“Coryo, stop it.” And he did, ceasing his movement at the sound of Sejanus’s firm tone. Sejanus rose, planting himself across from him, “I know this whole thing has been hard for you, but not once have we been making fun of you about it, and right now, we're being sincere.”
Coriolanus blinked at him, then at her. She watched the gears continue to turn endlessly in that beautiful head of his, the jump of his handsome jaw as he worked it, and then those long, delicate fingers plucking at the tie of the robe, and pointing downwards,
“It’s actually not hard, Sejanus,” and they softened once they heard him snort at his own joke.
Sejanus shrugged the robe off him in one smooth motion. He kissed right below his ear, and then leaned up to whisper something Lucy Gray could not hear, but made Coriolanus’s shoulders sag,
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
“It’s okay, it’s all okay, just let me, honey.” Sejanus reached down, wrapping his fingers around his soft cock. Coriolanus hummed, turning to look at Lucy Gray. He smiled at her gently, “What do you guys want me to do?”
“All you need to do…” Sejanus instructed, “is lie on your belly and lift those hips for me.”
A year ago, when this whole arrangement started, Coriolanus would have detested the thought of being bare and vulnerable at the hands of another man in front of her, but he’d come far in just the short while they’d been in this three-way lovers trio. Wordlessly, he laid himself onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to rest his head on, and with the encouragement of Sejanus’s coaxing hands, lifting his hips into his touch. Sejanus knelt on the bed behind him, and in the dim light of their shared bedroom, she allowed herself to drink him in.
Her other lover, the one that came after her first, but not any less important to her. Different from her past fellas, more in the sense that she thought Sejanus Plinth was the last good man left in America. Even physically speaking, he was different than the other men she’d gone for in the past, with his broad, and well, to be frank, corn-fed frame. Some girls would turn their nose up at boys on the bigger end of the spectrum, but on Sejanus, it was a welcome, downright irresistible thing. It was true what they say: don’t knock it till you try it. And tried it she did. Brought those thick fingers into her mouth, buried her nose in the hairy chub of his belly, let that beard scratch just right between her thighs.
She knew attraction was different for Sejanus, even he didn’t fully understand how Lucy Gray fit into his preferences, he’d confessed to her early into their relationship
‘I just…when it comes to girls…I don’t think I understand how—’
She didn’t need him to finish. She wrapped him in her arms and comforted the sensitive boy through his fit of tears, so that it didn’t matter to her. As long as she could have him, her boy, here in her arms, and in her life, then they didn’t need conventionality. So, once he’d assured her that he was fully comfortable, she welcomed any opportunity she could get to admire him.
And especially now, as he dragged his palm over the globe of Coriolanus’s ass, and slipped a finger inside him, pulling a shudder and a contented sigh from Coriolanus.
Sejanus suppressed a groan of his own, and from where she was sitting, Lucy Gray swore she could see the outline of his cock, hard and heavy, twitch in the confines of his sweatpants.
“He prepped so well for us, Lucy Gray, look.” He pulled out and showed her the glossiness on his finger, shimmering in the glow of the lamp. “Hmm, I see baby. So good.” She hummed.
Before Coriolanus could respond, Sejanus slid the finger back in, and then, a second one, working his hand slowly, in and out, with practiced ease. She followed suit, following his rhythm as she pumped her fingers inside of herself. Coriolanus whined at the sight, bringing himself up on shaking hands, slack-jawed and hungry.
Sejanus dragged his free hand over the thinness of Coriolanus’s waist, pushing him gently back down,
“None of that, please. Tonight’s all about you, just enjoy it.” He emphasized the statement with an upward flick of his wrist, and judging by the way Coriolanus flopped back onto the mattress with a groan, hit that sweet little spot inside of him.
Coriolanus mumbled out some incoherent string of words, face still smashed into the pillow.
“What was that, honey?” Sejanus asked him with a casual raise of his eyebrow, like the sound of his fingers pumping into him wasn’t echoing in the room.
“I said—“ Coriolanus lifted his head from the pillow, curls mussed and jaw slightly slack, “that it’s good—”
“I’m so glad,” Sejanus cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder blades. He tilted his head to look at her, still perched in her chair, and perhaps there was something to her gaze that she didn’t realize, because he flashed her a grin and began pumping his fingers faster.
Whatever Coriolanus was going to say next caught in his throat and came out a broken moan that went straight to her core. He pressed the side of his head back into the pillow, face scrunching.
“I’m trying to—fuck—I’m trying to tell you—“ Coriolanus choked out. “Tell me what, honey?” Sejanus, without breaking pace, wrapped his free hand around Coriolanus’s hip, bringing his ass back to meet his fingers, “I need you to keep these up, remember?”
“That’s what, mmph, that’s what I was trying to tell you—oh fuck.” Coriolanus gritted out. Her boy, so articulate, completely melting with another man’s fingers inside of him. “It’s good, so good, I just can’t…”
Coriolanus didn’t need to gesture; they could see him still limp between his thighs, now spread out for them to see. Lucy Gray was admittedly starting to get a little discouraged, foreseeing the same result that occurred so many times before: with everyone pent up and dissatisfied, and Coriolanus nursing his wounded ego.
“I told you, that’s all I need, honey.” He petted his curls before bringing his hand back to lock his hips in place, fingers pumping earnestly in and out of him now, his thick brows were furrowed, as if he was trying to achieve some sort of anticipated result.
Lucy Gray tilted her head as she slowed the pace of her fingers. Sejanus had never bothered to explain to her what exactly he had planned tonight, and she was still a little confused if—
Coriolanus gasped, the sinewy tendons of his forearm jumping as he squeezed the pillow, “Fuck!—why does it feel like—mmf!?” He bucked like a bronco, and Sejanus was right there, folding over him and cooing in his ear, “Baby, it’s okay, just let go, okay?”
Oh.
Lucy Gray had heard about this before. Now, she didn’t dwell on the logistics of it, just scrolled along and clicked on another video. But she was a big believer in expanding one's knowledge: meetin’ all sorts of new folks, listenin’ to new music, watchin’ your boyfriend get his prostate mil—
“OH, Sejanus!”
“Yes, honey, he’s fuckin’ you real good with those thick fingers of his, ain’t he?” She slid her fingers back into herself, spreading her legs and allowing the robe to fall from her shoulders, preening in the throaty gasp torn from their honey watching her from the pillow with glossy eyes and pink lips all wet and bitten. “Just fuckin’ you all pretty and stupid, huh?”
Sejanus groaned at that, squeezing himself through his sweatpants with his free hand, before placing his hand back on Coriolanus’s thigh, spreading him further. Coriolanus began to sing for them in earnest now. Pretty little staccato gasps she wanted to record and keep for herself and play over and over again while she fucked herself on her lovers’ cocks.
After a sharp, relentless thrust of Sejanus’s fingers, their honey’s head jerked away from the pillow, eyes going wide and shoulder blades contracting as his back arched,
“Wait, wait, WAIT.” Sejanus did not wait; instead, he leaned up, digging the angle harder, Coriolanus’s face flushed scarlet, “Sejanus. Stop, I—mff—need you to stop right now, because it feels like—“ he broke off into a undignified groan, and Lucy Gray barely bit her moan off, her fingers sliding so sweetly inside of her.
Sejanus, seemingly one step ahead of her and him, cut him off with a casual tone, “I know, but you’re not going to, just relax.”
And after a few more pumps of his hand, Coriolanus’s panicked tone filled the room once more,
“Sejanus, I’m serious, you’ve got to—fuck—you’ve got to stop, I think I might—“
Sejanus sighed and gently eased Coriolanus's head back onto the pillow, “You're not. Just trust me, just let go, honey.”
Lucy gray curled her fingers in time with Sejanus’s nerves zipping with excitement. Fuck, she was soaked, wasn’t she? Perhaps she shouldn’t be so…thrilled…at his discomfort. Maybe she wouldn’t be if he wasn’t gasping so prettily and Sejanus wasn’t grinning, and oh, he liked it too, didn’t he? Her dirty boy, and to think, this was the same man who’d blushed so shyly when they met for the first time that day, his hands clasping over the front of his ridiculous boxers as he rambled,
“You must be Lucy Gray. I’m Sejanus by the way, and I…really need to do laundry, sorry.”
She gasped as her fingers mercilessly brushed against that tight, welling spot, and Coriolanus, ever the doomsayer, darting his eyes between her and her hitching breasts, and the sheets underneath his soft, flushed cock, was still unconvinced,
“But… what if?” He squeaked.
Sejanus grinned, some sly thing she’d never seen from him before, “Then, it’ll be fine, Honey. Besides, I bought an extra set of sheets.” He leaned down to the shaking, desperate boy underneath him, “Just. Let. Go.”
The dam broke just at that moment. For Lucy Gray, thankfully, not Coriolanus. Her ears rang with it; there was a woman back in her hometown, with a bad leg and a smoker’s cough, who’d tell anyone who listened she’d been struck by lightning, and Lucy gray used to wonder what it felt like. To have your nerves lit up like firecrackers, and your vision turn hot-white, and the closest she ever got was when she was with her boys. She shuddered through her orgasm, coming back to the present with her ears ringing in time with the squeaky fan and the squelching of Sejanus's fingers.
And, oh! Lucy Gray wasn’t going to try to unpack why that particular interaction had affected her so much! Perhaps it was best to move on from that, and move on to less conflicting matters, like her heart thump, thump, thumping in her ears like a kick drum. Or Sejanus's wickedly determined expression, tongue darted between his lips. Or their honey in front of him. Gorgeous. Stunning. Just downright fucking beautiful even now, as he clung to whatever shred of control he had left, whatever gnawing, stupid thing he was convinced was so important right now, that it meant he couldn’t be truly unbidden with her lovers.
Perhaps in frustration, perhaps in post-orgasm bliss, and certainly, no matter what, with all the love in her heart, she caught his blue eyes and thought of the crisp, blue lake that first summer they spent together in her hometown. Before she left, before she came back, before he left, before they found their third piece, and when she realized nothing else mattered but them. And it was time, she felt, for him to do the same. She mouthed to him,
“Just. Let. Go.”
And perhaps Lucy Gray was old school, but maybe that was the real medicine he needed, not some bitter pill to swallow every morning, but to just let go.
And finally, with a pretty, desperate gasp, he did. Thin, and almost clear, dribbling weakly into the sheets. Not a traditional orgasm, but something different, unconventional, but just as good, and, judging by the high-pitched whimpering noises she’d never heard fall from those lips before, even better.
Sejanus worked him through it, letting their honey babble into the pillow, “Oh—fuck, that’s so—oh fuck, so good—fuuuck,”
“I, fuck—” a broken whimper, and then, a full body shudder, and then, he all-but-screamed into the pillow, “Oh, God! I love you two so much!”
The words gave way to a broken moan and a few more watery spurts into the sheets, before he collapsed into the mattress.
And then, they were both on him, the combined squeaks of the fan and her chair, spinning in circles from her eager exit, joining in the chorus of their sweet praises into the blonde boy’s sweat-soaked curls.
It took the two of them to wipe him unceremoniously clean with the towelettes they kept in the bedside table. Half-conscious, their boy mumbled something into the pillow, snuffing against her neck.
“What’s that, honey?” They whispered in unison.
“Thank you…” He sighed dreamily, slurring off into a snore.
“aand, he’s out.” Sejanus whispered fondly, “Enjoy the show?”
“Indeed, my wrist’ll be sore for a week,” she snorted, “yours too, probably. Need me to help you out?” she waggled his eyebrows. Sejanus blushed down to his bearded cheeks, “No need.” He shifted back, wincing as he pushed himself off the bed. She sighed fondly as he changed out of his soiled sweatpants, “I’m gonna shower,” Her poor boy, a little too eager and maybe a little too sweet for them, but she wouldn’t have him any other way. Coriolanus mumbled protests into her neck, “I think he wants you to stay.” She hummed.
“Wet wipes it is then,” Sejanus said, opening the bedside drawer, “Put something on the TV, he’ll be out in a minute.”
He was out by the time he finished the sentence. And by the time Sejanus tucked them all into bed, dimming the lights and offering them both a goodnight kiss to her forehead, he’d melted completely into her arms. If she craned her head, she could see his face soft and unbidden and gorgeous, and if she could see herself ten years from now, she hoped it looked like this.
Some time in the night, she’d cracked her eyes open blearily, alarm clock glowing a soft, red four-thirty, and she saw one of her boys, beautiful and neurotic, lying beside her, snoring in the arms of her other, perhaps too good for them. She scooted over, wrapped her arm somewhere between them, dozing back off to the sound of the fan squeaking softly ahead, dysfunctional, no good reason for it to be tethered, and yet still going.