Work Text:
Really, the first time is an accident. Hand wrapped punishingly tight around his dick, some twink on his phone with a pretty mouth, dark hair, and big eyes moaning in a room set up to look like a locker room while message after message comes in of Dennis and Charlie chattering back and forth in the group chat with just the three of them. Notification of their names followed only by the words ‘Voice Message’ because both he and Dennis agreed it’s way easier than using only emojis and less committal than just calling each other on the phone.
Mac shakes his head to try and ignore the onslaught of messages, entirely unwilling to take his hand off of himself to turn on Do Not Disturb while he tries not to let either of their faces replace the top’s when he closes his eyes. Or their bodies, their cocks. None of that.
The twink whimpers as the guy pounding into him comes, leaves him a dripping mess, and Mac’s fingers clench around his phone as his back arches and grinds down into the bright red dildo he has shoved down to the hilt inside himself as he comes across his stomach. Moaning, his phone slips underneath his sweaty body as he rides out his orgasm, trying to take in air but getting too lost in the sensation to prefer breathing, not even fighting the squeeze in his lungs and focusing only on the feeling of being full, so close but not close enough to the real thing. He’s so glad Dennis is the one watching the bar today, that there’s no chance of him hearing just how fucking loud he’s being, how wet the lube has made him where he’s fucked open on the toy.
He whines and shifts so the dildo presses against his prostate even after he’s done coming, flinching at the jolts over overstimulation that shoot through his body, limbs like noodles on his bed. He fucks himself back on it, punched out little sounds he’s blushing about forcing their way out while his dick makes a valiant effort to get back in the game before Mac decides he’s finally done. The sheets are sweat damp and gross, but Mac knows he’s too lazy to change them, pulling the dildo out gingerly and throwing it aside on the mattress so he can get up and shower.
Mac grabs his phone as an afterthought, attributing his sudden ignorance to the notifications as a result of coming so hard he could feel it in his toes, and not the fact that it was because he wasn’t getting notifications at all. Because the chat is open.
And right there at the bottom sat a forty-six-second voice message from Mac delivered to their group chat less than one minute ago.
No. No no no no no no no.
Hands shaking for a completely different reason than they just had been, Mac presses his sweaty thumb to the play button on his touchscreen and notices in minute detail how every single fucking granule of his life promptly implodes when his loud, desperate moaning rings loud and semi-clear out of his speakers. No. No no no no no no no. He drops his phone only so he can hide his face in his pillow when a message comes through from Dennis. No.
Dennis & Mac
Dennis
Did you fucking mean to send that? (3:15)
The message is almost immediately given one of the ‘thumbs down’ reactions from Charlie, who does that every time one of them absentmindedly sends a message with words in it, because they’re not fucking thinking that one of their thirty-year-old friends would not know how to fucking read it. But Mac can. He can read it and it’s real and he just sent his best friends a voice message of him coming with a dildo up his ass.
He gets another notification, a proper one, in the private chat with Dennis that says the exact same thing. Did he mean to send that? Did he mean to send that? In what fucking universe would he mean to send it? Why would he mean to send it? Mac doesn’t respond. He scrolls a little bit back in the group conversation and plays the messages at random, one of Charlie’s from ten minutes ago.
(3:04) “I dunno, man. I think I could probably fight a bulldog. A german shepard, no way–That thing’ll rip me to pieces. With the teeth? No way. But a bulldog is just, like, kind of a fucked up toddler looking kinda thing. I could fight a bulldog. What do they eat? Like I know dog food is alright, but, like, what’s in it, ‘cause I don’t want, like, a ‘roided out bulldog. But I guess if I am also eating the dog food then it could be a fair fight ”
Dennis’ response is almost instant, only delayed by the near-minute it took to record it:
(3:06) “Dude, I just said picking an animal based on diet is completely out of bounds. The whole point is you don’t know. You find it in the street or out in the woods or by the river one day and it’s just on, it’s happening. You can’t stop and ask what it eats, and you can’t train for it. That defeats the whole purpose of it being a random encounter. Do you know what ‘ random encounter’ means? Mac, by the way, if you’re listening to these, a fucking answer would be great right now, because I feel like Charlie isn’t hearing me at all.”
Quickly followed by, “Also, Charlie, you can stop focusing on the logistics of fighting a dog and start focusing on the fucking kegs you were supposed to have finished changing twenty minutes ago?”
Mac briefly thought of how long he could go to jail for terrorism charges if the plot of blowing himself up with whatever he had in the apartment right there, right now were to fail and he, by a miracle, survived. Because there is no looking anyone in the eyes after this. There’s no anything after this. Mac could only hope now that God would be totally cool with this.
Dennis & Mac
From: Dennis
Do you always sound like that when you come? (3:18)
The complicated schematics full of equations Mac doesn’t know pause. An audio message from Dennis, then another from Charlie.
☘️
(3:18) “Did you fucking mean to send that?”
(3:18) “That was kinda hot, Mac. I’m not gonna lie…Don’t know what the fuck it had to do with fighting a dog though. ”
(3:18) “Oh, fuck.”
Mac’s face burns and he curls into a ball at the edge of bed, skin sticky with sweat and cum and lube. He’s already horny again, not that his dick cares, soft against his thigh. He holds his phone up, pressing the record button, his face raised from his lap just enough that the microphone will pick up on it.
“You thought it was hot?”
He wants to melt into a puddle on the floor, skin tingling with years and years of want snapping all along his nerve endings and making him feel wired. Like he touched an exposed electrical cable. The way all his fantasies always seemed to look like one of two people, or two if he really let himself truly admit it to himself, the way that desire curled around his stomach, in his bones, before it ever had a name.
From: Dennis
So you did mean it as a joke? (3:20)
Not funny dude. Weird. (3:20)
Mac bit his lip, debated in his head on how to be honest without it making it look like he’s not completely, one hundred percent down. Because they don’t seem to hate it…and the borderline of not hating it and getting people to agree is kind of where Mac excels. Besides, he needed this like he needed air, needed it to finally come to him. For the first time in years his mind got in front of his embarrassment, started picking up on it before the reality of his situation could make him dig his own grave. He also has no idea on how to build a bomb, so there’s that.
To: Dennis
Not a joke (3:21)
Accident. But not a joke. (3:21)
Did you like it? How I sounded? (3:24)
Is that why you asked? (3:24)
He switched back to the chat with the three of them, where Charlie sent another message.
“ C’mon, man. You know that,” Charlie mutters, self-conscious, so quiet it barely picks up on the fact he’s speaking at all. There’s a shift of something, like fabric, and then a barely bit back groan. “‘ve never thought you weren’t.”
“Well, it was an accident.” The line of dots rolls across the small recording bar as Mac keeps going through his silence, unsure of what he’s going to say next but certain there’ll be something. “...But I…I’d’ve done it earlier if I knew you…if you guys were into that sort of thing. Or something. Or both of you, whatever.”
“How could I hear that and not be interested in it, man? You sound…god, I…need a longer version. Wanna hear all the shit leading up to what made you come like that.”
“ Wanna make you come like that.”
Mac’s heart stutters and skips and jumps out of his ribcage entirely. He’s always been hyper aware of the gay-ish nature that grew in his friendship with Dennis and Charlie. He’d have to have been blind, and deaf, and maybe stupid, to not see it. But he thought he was just being an idiot. A hopeful, shooting for stars with a gun– a bullet can travel pretty far, but it’s still not reaching space–kind of idiot. He never even considered it would be reciprocal. That it would be for him.
The silence stretches long in Dennis’ next message, too, before there’s a sense of surrender in his repetition, a confession not meant for a priest, but still holy: “Wanna make you come like that, too.”
---
And then they don’t. Three days and nothing happens.
Until Mac is in his bedroom, scrolling mindlessly through dating apps while seriously considering absolutely none of them, when he gets a voice message. Or, well, him and Dennis both get a voice message.
“ Ah….fuck,” Charlie’s voice whispers, barely audible over loud ruffling and creaking on his end, from what sounds like bedsprings. Charlie hisses under his breath, then a groan, settled finally into whatever position he was going for. “Y’know, this is all your fault, Mac.”
Mac nearly goes to record his own message immediately, despite the fact that there’s still seven minutes left of the voice recording and he doesn’t have specifics on what the fuck Charlie is talking about, because it sounds like he’s talking about who on the Eagles could score the most touchdowns after a bare minimum of 15 beers, and Mac had been completely fucking right with Jalen Hurts while Charlie was arguing for Mariota. Like an idiot.
“ Sending that stupid fucking audio. Saying it was an accident, shut the fuck up, man. Drive me crazy on fucking purpose. Both of you. With…with your…oh, fuck,” Charlie keens, and Mac’s jaw drops as he moves around again, the rhythmic shifting of someone clearly jerking off now taking the forefront of the microphone. “Like I haven’t wanted to fuck you guys since, like, sophomore year.
“ You…sounded good, man. Desperate. Wanna make you both desperate. Think I could. Every time I talk you both look at me…Hungry for it. It’s…kind of…I thought it…it was weird. But…I got it after a while. You want it so fucking bad.” Mac grimaces when he hears Charlie spit, knows before he hears the hiss, his newly-slick hand working himself, hates that he doesn’t hate the sloppiness of it, the grossness of Charlie doing it.
“Oh…oh. Like you need it. But…if you need it I’m gonna need you to tell me. Gonna have to ask me for it. ‘Cause I know how you guys look, how I am. Think you like it, I…I know you like me. I know you…you know. I’m not saying it first, f-fuck you. Want me, though. ‘Nd…I think it’s stupid you haven’t realized how much I want both of you…I mean, fucking…But I…fuck. ”
He can picture it, tries to pretend he doesn’t draw on the million other times Mac has thought about exactly this. Charlie sitting on his stupid couch, mouth cracked open, breathy and breathless all at once. He’s weird, wouldn’t be naked, just his dick pulled out of those hideous fucking long underwear.
Mac and Charlie living in each other’s pockets for years basically guaranteed they’ve seen each other naked, and Mac knows…he knows what Charlie is working with. And if he developed a size kink at the age of twenty after changing in Dennis’ poolhouse one time…well.
Charlie’s arms, freckles dotting his skin, his rough hand wrapped around himself, the other holding the phone just to his mouth. His lips spit-slick and shiny in the dim light of his apartment, precum dripping down his knuckles, not willing to pause for a single second to wipe it away. Cursing to himself, thinking about Mac, about Dennis, using them to get him off.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie.”
“ I think…Mac, at least. I know you’re gonna let me fuck you.” Charlie chuckles and Mac burns, shoving his hand into his jeans and wrapping his hand around his cock. Charlie whines, shuffling, before gasping. “Shit, shit. I think you would’ve always let me fuck you. ‘Nd Dennis, too, but…you’d be such a bitch about it, man. Trying to make it…be the one in charge. ‘M gonna fuck you. ‘Nd you’ll be…be so fucking good…for me. Fuck. Fuck, you guys–it’s…gonna make– fuck–” Charlie makes a noise, almost a quiet, grainy yelp, and Mac would find time to make fun of it if it weren’t Charlie coming, Charlie.
He audibly shudders, and Mac inwardly does the same when realizing Charlie’s cum is going to end up wiped somewhere on his clothes or blanket or couch or bed that is also his couch. And then again when he thinks about where else Charlie could put it, the feeling of swallowing around him, cum dripping down the sides of his mouth. Dennis buried to the hilt in his throat while Charlie fucks his cum further into him, his mind empty.
Oh, Christ.
Mac doesn’t wait for Dennis to answer, can’t bear not jerking off for another second before he’s pressing record and coming in his own jeans, slumping body managing to press send. He hears a sharp cry from another room, smiling to himself when the voice message comes in a few moments later.
“I mean…you guys are ridiculous,” is the first, and most predictable, thing Dennis says, a message Mac can only barely manage to play as he loses his fight with sleep. “And I-I resent the accusation that…that I…would be a bitch about it…” He can’t hear him jerking off, which is a shame, but it’s helpful that there’s nothing of Dennis that Mac and Charlie haven’t seen, from the tapes or otherwise. “I’d…I’d be good.” He hisses, surprising even himself by the moan that breaks open from his chest. “N-Not like…not…you know what I mean. But…if you wanted me t-to…I…I could be…for you. For you guys. Oh, oh. If you’d let me. P-Please, please let me.” He whimpers, then curses, mutters something Mac can’t hear. “Can’t believe I just said that…Meant it, though. Oh, Jesus Christ.”
It’s like he forgot he was supposed to be speaking, the rest of the audio just cut off moans and Dennis’ heavy breathing, but Mac doesn’t complain, listening to the real sounds Dennis makes when he comes, instead of the restrained grunting he does when he fucks women, when he’s performing for people who will let him get away with it, who don’t know him.
He manages to send one more message, a muffled, “Shit,” before finally letting himself fall asleep.
---
And if he’s being completely honest, Mac is starting to get completely fed up with any and all time he spends with Dennis and Charlie where they aren’t all banging one another. Like, to the point where he’s actually contemplating locking them all in a room with nothing but a bed, lube, caffeine pills, and Viagra. Maybe beer while he's at it.
Two fucking weeks, and all their group chat had to show for it is a handful of audios downloaded onto Mac’s phone of Dennis and Charlie making the hottest fucking noises he’s ever heard in his entire life and the embarrassing ones he sends back that kind of make him want to kill himself if he thinks about them for more than ten seconds. How desperate he knows he sounds, especially that first one he never meant for anyone to hear. How it’s not even an act, a show he can put on and then close the curtain after it’s all done, shed like a costume. That may be the worst part, how much he’s always wanted them, how being so fucking close to getting it while still so far away makes his skin crawl and his chest hollow.
Charlie passed out on the couch a few hours ago, after they stopped pretending they were paying attention to whatever cop show they had on and just watched the Golden Girls, and Dennis had shuffled off to his room soon after, leaving Mac alone with his thoughts and Charlie drooling onto his shirt. And, well, Mac is only human.
Pressed thigh to thigh with them all on the couch all night, drinking enough that it peeked over the baseline drunkenness they became used to since alcohol became readily available over a decade ago. Picking at each other’s food, smacking hands away when the other had basically devoured half of Mac’s fucking sour cream and cheddar chips, still bitching when Charlie held his butter-soaked popcorn out of his reach, and again when Dennis cut him off of his lightly salted veggie straw bullshit.
He can't help but think about them, can't stop thinking about them, messy and open on the same dildo from the first ever message he sent like this. Suction cup stuck firmly to the floor, Mac watches himself in the mirror, sacrificing the structural integrity of his knees, just so he can lift himself up, sink down so it presses heavy and thick against his prostate, whining despite himself because it's not the real thing. It’s not what he needs.
He's not too worried about the noise, Charlie is asleep in the living room, and Dennis should be by now. Still, the door isn't locked. There’s nothing stopping them, if they were to hear him, from coming in.
And that's when he gets the idea.
He’s too far gone to stop, so he sits back completely, twitching when it fucks him so deep it snatches his breath away, while he fumbles with his phone.
He finds the website he bought it from easily, scrolls through the display pictures until he finds the one he's looking for, the thing nearly bowing from its own weight, placed next to a blank, brandless soda can to show the scale of it. Mac’s heart pounds, his hands shaking. Before he can talk himself out of it, he screenshots it, sends it in their group chat without a caption.
Mac figures he’ll get one insane orgasm out of the display of it all, the tease and the audios he has playing in the background, and pass out pretty quickly. He’ll only have to deal with whatever reaction or consequences there are in the morning, which he hopes is someone grabbing him and fucking him on the kitchen counter. Anything other than that really is not worth caring about.
He gets a response no less than fifteen seconds later.
☘️
Dennis
? (12:18)
Well, there goes Mac’s theory that everyone is asleep.
Still, he's left at least one person on kind of a cliffhanger, and for all the other opportunities he ruined, Mac isn't backing down on this one. He thanks God he remembered to turn the light on when he came in. He plants his feet firmly on the floor, lifts himself up until the camera can catch the base of the dildo, just how far it is inside of him, phone in one hand and cock, shiny and wet and red, in the other. He bites back a moan, scared now that Dennis will hear him and it'll ruin it. Straightens his back, drops his shoulders so his neck stands out, puts himself on display.
The picture is a work of fucking art, and it makes Mac angry to look at it. He just walks around all day, looking like that, with the capacity to look like that, and yet neither of them have torn his clothes off and fucked him until he cries. It’s insulting, honestly. He sends it without hesitating, this honest annoyance only spurning him further.
☘️
Dennis
Shit. (12:20)
Mac manages to suppress the low groan that overtakes him when Dennis’ message is immediately responded to with a single thumbs-down.
He fucks down hard, his head falling as he breathes through the reality of it all, tears dotting his eyes. Ah, god. He presses record on his Voice Memos app and doesn't bother hiding the moaning that time, sweat dripping down his forehead as Mac nearly topples onto the floor. He can't keep doing this, needs someone to do it for him.
He missed the sound of Dennis coming out of his room, if Charlie and Dennis said anything to one another. Surely it doesn't matter if they did, because they're both bursting through Mac’s bedroom door regardless of if they discussed it first. Mac stumbles in surprise, falling further back onto the dildo. A startled moan makes its way out of his mouth, and Mac thinks that he probably could have come just from the surprise, but he’s glad he doesn’t.
“Holy shit,” Dennis whispers, eyes wide and glassy.
The picture he sent means next to nothing now, because he’s suddenly acutely aware that he’s naked and awkward and keeling on the floor with a fake dick shoved up his ass in front of his two best friends for life, and he doesn’t feel at all like the fucking adonis he thought himself to be just moments before. Now he feels scared, and insecure, like a deer in headlights that kind of wants the car to hit him, and will kind of jump in front of it if it doesn’t do it soon.
Charlie does it, saying nothing as he strides over, bending at the waist so he can grab Mac hard by the jaw and kiss him. And it has no fucking right to be that good, not when it’s Charlie.
“Forgot how much I missed that,” Mac breathes, his eyes still closed even when Charlie is pulling away.
“What?” Dennis interrupts. “Wh-You guys have done that before? Without me? What the fuck? When?”
Charlie and Mac smile into each other’s mouths. “You were in college for ever, dude. We got bored.”
“And really, really drunk.”
Dennis puts his hands on his hips and scoffs. “I can’t believe you…and that you wouldn’t tell me? I-I mean…that’s…that’s betrayal. I-Did you ever…go further than that?”
Mac and Charlie both shake their heads at him, and Mac tries to figure out a way to get Dennis closer to him, to finally kiss him like he’s been wanting to all these years.
He lifts himself up gingerly, grimacing as the toy slips out of him and the sound it makes as it does. Not that he has much time to dwell on it, Dennis and Charlie shoving Mac onto his bed as the top-heavy dildo detaches from the floor and plaps onto the hardwood.
“We were waiting on you, man,” Mac finally answers, his legs wrapped around Dennis’ waist while Charlie grabs the lube from next to the mirror. He kisses him just once, before biting marks under his jaw where he’ll be able to see them the next morning. He cards his fingers through the shorter hair at the back of Dennis’ neck, and he knows he looks so gay, but he can’t help it. It’s Dennis and Charlie.
“Fuck,” Dennis breathes, eloquent, his dick rubbing against Mac’s ass where only his paper thin skinny jeans keep them apart. He clumsily rolls his hips against him, and the air catches in Mac’s throat at the brief pinch of pleasure that clouds his entire face.
Before he can dwell on it, make him do it again, Dennis is inching away from him, the miniscule space of his absence only remedied by Charlie rejoining them, pressing two lube-slick fingers inside of him. Mac whines, loud and no longer caring who hears, pressing down on what is better than nothing but still not enough. He’s already wet and open and wanting.
“Fuck me,” Mac insists, and Charlie adds another finger. “No. Not–I–You saw that thing. I can take it. I need one of you, both of you, inside me. Now.”
His hands scrabble at who to grab for, so he settles for clawing at his sheets. He’s panting, every single inch of his body covered in sweat or lube or both, but Charlie doesn’t relent. Dennis leans down to kiss him, and, yeah, that…that definitely helps. Really, definitely. But it’s not enough. He crooks his fingers, presses against his prostate, but doesn’t give him what he actually wants.
“Bastard!” Mac yells against Dennis’ mouth, when Charlie slides what he can of his pinky inside him instead of taking his fingers out altogether and replacing it with someone’s cock, and he’d probably kick him in the face if it didn’t mean getting fucked with nothing at all.
“You want it?” Charlie asks, and Mac thinks, actually, that he’s not completely in love with him. Maybe he just wants him dead, and wires got crossed. “Want us to fuck you?”
“Please,” Mac begs, and he hates Dennis for how wide his smile is against his skin. “Been waiting for fucking years, dude.”
“What’s a few more minutes?” Dennis teases, hand snaking around his cock and squeezing it lightly. “Hours?”
Mac whimpers, tears collecting in his eyes as he fucks down onto Charlie’s fingers. He’s got nice hands, and they feel so fucking good inside him, but there’s no point in prepping him, it’s strictly to fuck with him, and Mac just wants to be fucked. “Please.”
A sob wrenches its way out of his chest when Dennis leaves him. Clenching around four of Charlie’s fingers, he watches, chest heaving, as Dennis leans down to kiss Charlie. It’s under the pretense of being confident, but he can see the uncertainty in both of them, which is kind of crazy considering Charlie is a thumb and a palm away from fisting Mac in his own bed.
“Fuck,” Dennis spits, his lips shiny. He dives back down to kiss him again, hungry, wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist and pulling him closer while he shoves his hand into the jeans Charlie is still wearing, like a freak. He dials back, brows furrowed. “Dude?”
Charlie just shrugs. He steps back to pull his hoodie and his shirt over his head before finally working himself out of his jeans, and Mac has to clench his legs closed and his eyes shut so he doesn’t spontaneously come just from the actual sight of Charlie naked, like this, for them. And his cock is so fucking hard, red and thick and not at all proportionate to his body. He rolls his hips down onto the bed just to feel how open he is, how he’s about to be completely, utterly full.
Mac is not even thinking at this point, seizing forward and grabbing Charlie. He can barely even kiss him, their mouths just smacking together as Mac pulls him on top of him.
“Fuck me,” Mac demands, and he’s not fucking asking anymore. “Your dick is…it’s fucking stupid, and if you don’t fuck me with it now, I’m going. to. lose it.”
Dennis crosses his arms over his chest, smiling. “I recall you saying something about having both of us inside you,” he says. He appears behind Charlie, kisses his bare shoulder. “I think it’s only fair that we both get to fuck you first.”
Mac whines, lifts his hips so Charlie’s cock is sliding between his ass, the leaking head grazing his hole. Despite this, he nods, and he’s openly crying now, and he doesn’t fucking care.
“Please, please, please,” he babbles. “I…I’ve been DP’d before, it…was good. God, fuck.” Mac sees the stony look in both their eyes, the set of their jaws, the sharp possessiveness that Mac imagines they always had to have had, that it didn’t make sense for it to just suddenly form, simultaneously, right then. “They…it didn’t matter. Won’t matter. Please. Oh my god, please.”
Charlie leans down, mouths at Mac’s neck while Dennis reaches between them. His breath is cool against Mac’s overheated skin, his teeth digging into his shoulder lightly while Dennis guides Charlie’s cock into him. Mac cries out, digging his nails into the hard border of Charlie’s shoulder blade, clutching at Dennis’ chest but not quite being able to reach.
“Oh…h..m…God.” Mac rolls his hips, desperate to get more of Charlie inside him. “F-fu– uck. ”
Charlie smiles, bare teeth against Mac’s throat and switchblade sweet as he shoves the rest of the way in, hips smacking against the backs of Mac’s thighs. He’s not even sorry for the yelp Charlie lets out as Mac digs his nails into his back, could not fucking care less as he bottoms out and quickly punishes him for it, fucking him so hard the bed shakes. He presses his hands flat against Charlie’s back, feeling the muscles flex and release as his hips roll, filling him again and again, completely.
“Oh,” Mac creaks, and he misses Dennis, and yes every single point of matter his body is made of is on fire, cracking open into a pool of gold light, until he's nothing and he's everything and he's full. The emptiness only lasts as long as it takes for Charlie to fuck back into him, pulsing inside him; and there’s no discussion of a condom, no question. It would be ridiculous to entertain anything but this, raw and leaking and earnest, tears dripping down his face.
“Shit, Mac,” Charlie hisses. He bites down on the skin that joins his shoulder to his neck before pulling out, and Mac could probably beat him to death with hammers for even daring to leave him empty for one second, but oh. God, he’s pretty. So pretty that he kind of, for one fleeting second, doesn't even care.
He’s obviously not the only one who seems to think so, either. Before Charlie can even explain, even get a word out, Dennis is attacking him. Charlie’s covered in sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and red from the tips of his ears down to his breastbone, freckled and gleaming and basically the picture of every one of Mac’s jerk off fantasies for over a decade.
Charlie’s surprise is muffled by Dennis’ mouth, but he makes a stunning recovery, his one arm wraps firm around Dennis’ waist and the other splayed wide between his shoulder blades. Dennis makes a noise, canting his hips to roll against Charlie’s, which can’t feel good on Charlie’s end, the bite of the denim against him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Mac thinks of complaining, but then thinks better of it, propping himself up and wrapping a hand around his cock. He clenches around nothing, wants Charlie back inside of him desperately, but Dennis is panting into the kiss and Charlie is smiling and Mac is so in love with them his dick hurts.
“Take these off,” Charlie breathes, tugging on Dennis’ jeans and his belt.
“Nothing new to you guys,” Dennis mutters, dropping his shirt and undershirt onto the floor, picking his belt open with nimble fingers. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Does. Not. Matter,” Mac argues, and he tries to ignore the sudden rush of anxiety that they just remembered he exists, that they’re just placating him so he doesn’t get all whiny that they want to get married and have gay rat babies and love just each other forever.
Charlie beams, smoothing his hand along Dennis’ hip. “It really doesn’t.”
Dennis’ dick is exactly as he remembers it from the tapes, but better in real life, and just like that he realizes he’ll never be able to watch another one again. It’s different, when you want to fuck the dude, and you’re pretty sure he’s always known, but you can never be certain if he wants you back or not and hey, here’s, like, two hundred VHS tapes of eighty percent balls and ass just for you and your other best friend who you also want to fuck. It’s different when he’s fucking someone else on a TV screen. Now he’s here, and he’s real, and he’s theirs. And Mac doesn’t think he can ever go back. Knows he can never go back.
Dennis groans when Charlie takes his cock in his hand, red and flushed just like the rest of him, leaning down so he can bury his head in Charlie’s shoulder.
“I’m supposed to be fucking him right now,” Charlie mutters, gesturing to Mac with a nod. “You’re supposed to be fucking him right now.”
“If either of you bitches could lift then you could fuck me and stay like that,” Mac complains, squeezing the base of his dick at the image of him sandwiched between them, feet dangling off the floor as they both bounced him up and down on their cocks. But no. Charlie has never seen a gym and Dennis works on his pecs more than anything else. “All I’m sayin’.”
Charlie looks up at the ceiling, incredulous, but doesn’t say anything. And they have until morning, but Mac is so desperate and impatient that he needs them now. Is more than willing to bend spacetime so that the time between both of them inside of him is nonexistent, no movement, no getting in place, just them.
“I’m up to here with you,” Charlie threatens, but he leans over and whispers something to Dennis, who smiles and ducks down to hear it like they're little kids with a secret they don't want Mac to know.
Dennis is blushing again, but replies, and Mac contemplates throwing something at them for having a whole conversation when they're supposed to be fucking him so hard he can't breathe. But he doesn't, and God should consider forgiving him for all of the gay stuff for his patience. They should make him a saint for it as a reward.
They part, giddy and excited, Dennis clambering onto Mac’s bed and Charlie kissing Mac soundly on the mouth, the kind of kiss that makes worlds fall away and fireworks go off.
“You still want both of us?” He’s got that pitch in his voice that Mac recognizes, when he's being evil or just generally scheming, the just barely visible purse of his lips, dimple forming where the corner of his mouth upturns. His eyes are wide and shiny and Mac swallows hard, nods.
“Yeah,” he whispers. His legs fall open a little wider, trying to get Charlie closer, but he doesn't budge, hand cupping the side of his face and grazing his cheek with his thumb.
Charlie’s smirk turns into a timid grin. “‘Kay. Face me or face Dennis, you pick.”
Mac's face falls. He looks at Charlie, then back at Dennis, who is very clearly trying to look nonchalantly sexy, but looks a little like he's just been caught doing something he shouldn't have been, and thinks standing still will help him get away with it. And kind of constipated. Unfortunately this does very little to make him not sexy to Mac. He turns back to Charlie, eyebrows furrowed.
“Th-that's not fair,” Mac whines. “How am I…How am I supposed to…Dude, stop that I-I can't focus.” He slaps Charlie away from where he started rubbing Mac’s thigh.
“Kinda the point,” Charlie mutters. He smiles in the general vicinity of Mac’s shoulder, and noticing that is the only warning Mac gets before Dennis is at his right, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.
He probably looks so stupid on all fours on the bed behind him, but then he’s kissing Mac’s neck and he can't really care at all. Charlie grins, leans forward to mouth at Mac’s neck, and oh God.
They’re doing it on purpose. They have to be. Through the haze of desire very rapidly encompassing his brain, Mac is quick enough to put it together that they're not going to fuck him until he tells them how, but he's also not on earth enough to speak, or to make them stop. He really, really doesn't want them to stop. Is there a word for that? For being forced to choose the greater of two pleasures? Instead of the evils? He wonders if there's any money in making phrases.
He pushes forward to sit up better, further getting his jugular between Charlie’s teeth, and he’s snaking his hand around Dennis’ wrist. Mac tips his head back and a creaking moan falls out of his mouth. They're both smiling against his skin, and Mac hates them, hates them, but God he loves them.
Charlie’s hands skirt up and over his ribs, cold hands on his warm skin. Mac may kill him.
“Y-you, fuck, you already fucked me.”
“For like two minutes,” Charlie argues, hands on Mac’s hips and squeezing.
“Two minutes is enough to get the picture,” Dennis argues. “Don't be a slut, Char.”
Charlie bites at Mac’s earlobe, breathing him in. “Shut up.”
“Are…Are you guys fighting over me?” Mac asks, and he's not above blushing even though he didn't before. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you're about to fight over me.
Mac yelps as Charlie bites down harder this time, enough to sting but not to break skin. “Shut up. ”
“Dude, make me.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and he can hear Dennis rolling his eyes, but it doesn't stop his smile from pressing into Mac’s shoulder.
He looks over at Dennis, just to see him, kiss under the corner of his jaw. He feels his pulse drum under his tongue, heavy and fast, the clench of his jaw when Mac grazes over marks he already left. They bump into one another as Dennis pulls away, tries and kind of succeeds at kissing him at this weird angle. He rises up on he knees to hold Mac’s jaw in his hand, crane his neck up to meet Dennis where he is.
“You’re gonna ride me?” Dennis asks, but Mac can tell it's not a question. His eyes focus on Mac’s mouth like he can't help it, kisses him until a choked off groan breaks them from it, to where Charlie is slowly jerking himself off.
Mac straightens his shoulders, fixes his posture, tilts his head in all the ways the girly magazines he didn't read in high school tell you to pose for pictures, to get guys to notice you. He tries not to make it too obvious, trying to look attractive while simultaneously fearing that they're going to laugh at him, call him pathetic for even trying, that they're going to leave.
He turns to Dennis, eyes glassy as they dart from Mac to Charlie, unsure of which to focus on. He swallows before grabbing a fistful of Mac’s hair and pulling him up to kneel. The last thing Mac sees before he’s crying out, complying and scrambling into position, is Charlie smirking, like something he considered an inevitability is finally happening.
Dennis all but throws him so he's on all fours before collapsing in the middle of the bed, and Mac doesn't need to be told twice. Burning under his own eagerness, he takes the lube Charlie pushes into his hand and straddles Dennis’s waist.
He's sure he's going to deny it in the morning, is already rewriting the memory in his head, but now, Mac is desperate. He doesn't even let the heat of his palm warm the lube before he’s slicking Dennis’ cock with it, base to tip with intent. Dennis’ attempt at a macho-dom face immediately slips, eyelashes fluttering shut while his hips twitch minutely into the feeling.
Finally sinking into him is actually what he pictures heaven like, but Mac has never been praised for his patience. Dennis has, unfortunately for those around him who must suffer his ego, a nice cock. Not as thick or long as Charlie’s but still a good size, a good weight against his prostate, stretching his rim enough that Mac knows he’ll be able to feel it tomorrow.
“Ohhhhh,” is all Dennis can get out, a low and rumbling noise that Mac can almost feel, his hair stuck sweaty to his temples and the nape of his neck. He throws his head back, sits fully on his cock, feeling like a live wire on ecstasy. Dennis grips Mac’s hips and pushes them back and forth, the sound of his breathing the only thing in the room until the head of his cock sits against his prostate and Mac’s loud, desperate moan drowns him out.
He jumps a little when Charlie comes up behind him, palming over Mac’s body like he can't believe it's real. Along his sides, over his nipples, until he has one hand splayed out flat on Mac’s chest, possessive. His thumb and pointer fingers dig gently into his collarbone, and it would be so easy for Charlie to inch up, wrap his hand around his throat.
Mac almost asks for it, almost begs, but then Dennis is shoving his feet down onto the mattress so he can fuck into Mac and Charlie is circling his stretched out rim with the finger of his other hand and Mac shuts the fuck up. Takes back even the words he didn't say.
Dennis, for all of his focus on speed and the smacking sound balls make against ass in his tapes, focuses mostly on getting as deep inside Mac as he can, filling him. Mac scrabbles at his chest, almost smacks Charlie upside the head when he catches the corner of his shit-eating grin in his periphery.
Dennis lowers his hips slowly, and the threat of his cock leaving him is enough to make tears dot Mac’s eyes. He yelps, though, when Dennis shoves back in, abrupt and hard, a crack of lightning coiling around Mac’s spine.
“Ah, fuck,” is all he can get out, his voice only a whimper as Dennis keeps going, keeps filling him and taking it away.
“Yeah?” Charlie hums, smug, and Mac contemplates killing him. “You like it?”
His shoulders burn with how hard he's blushing, and he's sure if it came out of anyone else's mouth then he’d be kicking the guy out of his ass and then out of his apartment, but he's full and it's them and God. He isn't going to last.
Mac leans back against Charlie while Dennis shoves Mac down, manually rocking him back and forth on his cock, the movement of it providing constant pressure on his prostate. He's still loose enough that the wetness from the lube makes it feel filthy, like he's actually dripping around Dennis’s cock, like he actually has a cunt.
“W-Want…” Mac clenches around Dennis and smiles breathlessly when Dennis’ hands flinch hard enough to bruise his hips. “I’m…won't last like this.”
“Then don't,” Dennis says, teasing him by fucking him just hard enough that Mac’s fucked-languid body can't react, bouncing him on his cock.
“But we’re both fucking you tonight,” Charlie adds, and Mac gasps until it hurts when Dennis wraps his hand around Mac’s cock. His mustache tickles Mac’s skin, “You're not done until you're full.”
Charlie slips a finger into him besides Dennis’ cock, and Mac is coming. He fucks Dennis’ hand as he grinds down hard on the both of them inside of him. His vision whites out as all the breath is sucked from his body.
The first thing he notices when he comes down is Dennis, hand still around Mac’s cock, tensing all of his muscles so hard the vein in his forehead is bulging. Mac smirks, can see how hard he's trying not to come, how much Mac is doing to him. Fuck.
“Good, you did good,” Charlie whispers, kissing along the side of Mac’s neck. “That was really good.”
Mac curls into the praise like a cat in the sunlight, but the warmth is short lived. Charlie shoves him down hard so he's chest to chest with Dennis and fucks two fingers into him alongside Dennis’ cock. Mac will say he grunted, manly, but really it's a squeal, oversensitive and his body entirely made of static as he's stretched out further.
“Charlie get the fuck away from my dick. Stay as far away from me as possible or I’m done,” Dennis warns, urgency in his voice and the veins popping out of his neck.
“Where do you want me to go?” Charlie asks, incredulous. “It’s an asshole, n-not a fucking, a hallway.”
“After this it might be,” Mac groans, he buries his head in the crook of Dennis’ neck. “Don't be a pussy.”
Dennis snorts. “Says the guy who's getting fucked like he has one.”
“Dude, f-fuck …fuck you.”
He’s already getting hard again, and it hurts. But it's so good, fills his stomach and his ears into the tips of his fingers. He tries to fuck back onto Dennis, onto Charlie’s fingers, but Charlie smacks a hand on his back and keeps him where he is.
“Like you’d say no,” Mac spits, rubbing his stubble on Dennis’ skin just to piss him off. “Like the only reason you're not getting fucked right now is because I was already fucking myself.”
Dennis shudders, turns his head so his cheek rests on top of Mac’s. “I’m being dead fucking serious if you keep talking like that I’m gonna come.”
“We’ll just keep you in him soft,” Charlie mutters. He leans down to kiss Mac’s tailbone, lips trailing further down until they're grazing his hole and fuck. “And I’ll fuck ‘im ‘til you're both hard again.”
He licks around Mac’s rim, stretched on Dennis' cock and two—fuck, three —of Charlie’s fingers, lapping at his hole sloppily enough that Mac can feel Charlie’s spit dripping.
“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” Mac tries to warn, for him or for Dennis or in general he doesn't know, but Charlie keeps going, tip of his tongue sliding alongside his fingers, fucking into Mac’s hole lazily, like it's not even a big thing.
It’s too much, and he wants every second of it to be rolled out into infinity, neverending. His brain starts to slip as he pants, wet, against Dennis, moaning and rocking back and forth trying to get some friction. He’s so gone, he can't even bother to notice if he's hard again or not, just wants and wants and wants.
He whines when it leaves, tries to push back into what's already gone, but then Dennis is white-knuckling Mac’s thighs and the pain of it isn't not hot, and Mac manages to put two and two together even in his current state.
He lifts his hips up so Dennis slips out of him an inch or two, is rewarded by Charlie’s quiet chuckle and Dennis scrambles against his body, holding him in his arms as his hands grab at Mac’s back.
Charlie shifts behind him, and his tongue gives a final tease where Mac and Dennis are connected before Charlie is pulling his fingers out and sitting up. Mac hides his eyes in the pillow, thoroughly ashamed at just how loose and open he is, how noticeable it is when it’s back to just Dennis inside him. He feels so desperate, like a whore, like his next breath is entirely reliant on whether or not he gets getting fucked into the mattress.
The blunt head of Charlie’s cock feels bigger than it did before, the way he has to stretch to accommodate it in a way he didn't the first time.
Mac whines, trying to push back, but Dennis’ arms tighten around him, restrictive and binding. “Please,” he gasps, reaching back to grab at Charlie, like touching him with his hands will do anything to make him understand how badly he needs this.
Instead, Charlie grabs his wrist, pulls the other one out from his side, and holds them tight behind Mac’s back, right above where Dennis grips him like a vice.
“Fuck,” Mac curses, “Fuck!”
And Charlie’s pushing in, unrelenting and big and fucking him so full Mac can feel him in his throat, in his stomach, and the branching off thought of Charlie in his throat makes him tremble between them. Mac is nothing but a puddle at this point, hardly even aware of anything outside of the two of them inside of him, slick with lube and spit, sliding against one another.
“Shut…the fuck up,” Charlie pants. “And take what I give you.”
“Oh, fuck,” Mac repeats, he tries to lift his head, his body heavy, a rubber band pulled tight. A string of spit connects his lip to Dennis’s shoulder, and he absentmindedly leans down to lick it up.
Dennis squirms, but doesn't push him away, his face crinkled and confused as to whether or not this is something he likes.
Charlie mutters something Mac can’t hear, not that he can comprehend words. He bottoms out, his hips pressed flush against Mac’s ass. His hand joins the other around Mac’s wrists. Hissing, he pulls out slow, Dennis cursing and throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatically.
“Oh, that looks good,” Charlie says. His fingers dig into the meat of Mac’s arms, using the leverage to yank Mac back onto his cock. Mac cries out, struggling against Charlie’s hands. He aches to touch him, grab at him, feel him, but Charlie doesn't let him. He presses down harder with his body weight, slamming into him with what feels like his entire strength.
He realizes he’s crying, all of his senses flooded with how much it is. All of his senses, all of his emotions, it's all molten lava boiling down to this.
Dennis takes Mac by the back of his hair and pulls him up entirely on his own, Mac strung out and limp. Mac whimpers, the blaze of pain along his scalp adding to the pleasure not distracting from it, looking at him through lidded eyes.
“You good? Feelin’ okay?”
Mac whines, drops his head to bite down on Dennis’ neck. He nods, kissing the skin there. He can’t, he can’t form words, can't do anything but lay there and do exactly what Charlie told him, take what he gives him.
His eyes roll back into his head when Dennis starts moving, pushing deep inside of him when Charlie pulls out, hitting his prostate on every single fucking thrust. Mac sobs, tries to shove back onto them both but can't move out of Charlie’s grip.
Dennis is smirking like a fucking asshole, Mac can tell. “Yeah?”
“C-C’nn…” Mac pants, gulping breaths as he tries to piece together a sentence. He shoves back, greedy, cock-hungry, white-hot burning from the inside out, rolls his painfully hard cock against Dennis’ stomach. “C’n I come ‘gain?”
“What was that?” Charlie asks, and his voice is serious but it's laced with…desperation. With desire, the tone of someone quickly and rapidly losing it but scrambling to keep it together. “What'd you say?”
Mac gives an indignant noise, hardly able to say what he did manage to get out, let alone say it again and better.
“C’nnnn—” he’s sobbing as Charlie speeds up, moving against Dennis’ slow thrusts and pushing his cock roughly into Mac’s prostate. “C’n I come? Please.”
“Fuck,” Dennis and Charlie both say at the same time, but Dennis doesn't try to answer, moving Mac by the hair into a position where he can suck a mark into his neck.
“Come,” Charlie spits, and Mac whines. It sounds like an insult, like a dig at how pathetic he is, how much he likes having two cocks in his ass, likes being a hole. “Come, Mac.”
Dennis winces when Mac comes a second time, and Mac first thinks it’s because he doesn't like the feeling of cum on his stomach, but he then realizes it’s because Mac is screaming pretty much right in his ear, a terrifying rush of weightlessness in his head before he’s gone.
He wakes up, what couldn't be more than a second off two later, to his arms limp by his sides, Charlie’s bruising grip on his hips as he fucks him hard enough that the headboard shakes, and Mac is openly sobbing. He’s clenching hard around them both, the wet, sloppy sound of it filling the room underneath the heavy breathing.
“Fuck,” Dennis yells, and Mac gasps as Dennis’ cum adds to the mess, pulsing burning hot inside of him. “Mac. Ch-Charlie.”
“God dammit,” Charlie chokes, and then he's coming too, slamming all the way home so Mac doesn't miss a single drop.
“ Please,” Mac sobs, but he doesn't know what he’s asking for, has every single thing he wants. “Please, please, please.”
He’s only sniffling by the time Charlie gingerly slides out of him, Dennis following behind him. His breath still comes in harsh pants, his heart beating a mile a minute. He feels so achingly empty, and the lube and cum dripping out of his hole and his cock twitching dejectedly against the small paunch of Dennis’ stomach.
Dennis hugs him around the waist, manages to catch Mac’s mouth to kiss him, almost uncomfortably gently. They're actually hardly succeeding, both trying to catch their breath, but it's sweet, and Mac takes comfort in the idea that they'd also want want to be sweet with him, to love him instead of just fucking him. Not that he hates that part, almost sad it seems to be over.
Or so he thought.
Charlie pulls Mac so his ass is in the air and drags his fingers through the mess. Mac’s jaw drops open, his throat too raw to actually say anything or make any noises. He laughs in disbelief as Charlie pushes it back into his hole with three fingers which don't even stretch him. He finds his prostate straight away, pressing firm circles into it.
“Charlie, Charlie I can't,” Mac complains. His dick is interested but not participating, for the good fucking reason that it just ejected his soul through an orgasm so intense he’s still shaking.
“I think you can,” Charlie whispers.
“ Why?” Mac whisper yells. “Why the fuck would I be the one of us who could come again?”
Charlie shrugs, bites his asscheek. “Well I want you to give me another one, and so you’re gonna.”
Mac moans. “Oh, god.”
Dennis cants his hips up, and it's fucking gross, cum still wet between them, but then their cocks are sliding together and he couldn't fucking care less. It hurts, a razor sharp ache in his stomach, but it still doesn’t outweigh the citrusy-static of oversensitivity, the fingers inside of him stretching him.
Charlie scissors his fingers wide, holding Mac open before his tongue is alongside them again, fucking into Mac’s hole and licking up his and Dennis’ cum from inside him.
“Oh, Charlie,” Mac drawls, wishing Dennis was wearing a shirt so he can ball it up in his fists.
He lets all the air in his lungs out when Charlie slowly pulls out his fingers, using both hands to spread Mac open. The cool air around them that somehow managed to fight off the sweat, the condensation of three bodies moving together like that, electrifies Mac’s skin as the heat of Charlie’s mouth envelops him, licking a flat stripe up his hole before fucking his tongue inside.
“Oh, fuck,” Mac bites. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Dennis is half hard against Mac, inching his hips back and forth like he doesn’t want anyone to know that just watching this is turning him on.
“He’s rimming you, right?” Dennis asks, and Mac realizes that while he can probably see what’s happening, he might not be able to see everything. Or maybe he can, and he just wants to hear Mac say it. He grins when Mac nods, looking between their bodies where Mac is shamelessly fucking down onto Charlie’s tongue. “You like when he eats you out? When he puts his mouth on your pussy?”
Mac shouts, swatting at Dennis. “Told you to stop looking at my search history, bitch. You sound like a-an asshole.” Charlie circles his rim again with the flat of his tongue and Mac is trembling in Dennis’ arms.
“Dude, you do it on my laptop on a public tab. Sometimes you leave the window open! If you didn’t want me to know that you’re into that, don’t use my laptop and leave all your evidence everywhere.” His eyebrows do some weird fucking gymnastics. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t answer my question.”
Mac could cry as he burns from the humiliation. It’s not his fault. Sometimes he comes and the sight of what he just got off to kind of disgusts him, and he ends up just shutting the laptop instead of taking the time to actually close any of the tabs. He could also cry because Charlie isn’t listening, at all, to their conversation, fucking his tongue in and out until he flattens it against his hole and licks Mac open.
It’s clear how much he enjoys this, his breath heavy and hot against him, completely focused on the one sole task of this.
“Yeah…yeah I like it. When…man, fuck you,” Mac curses, and anger flares in his stomach, but he can’t distinguish it from the coiling heat there, too, the one making his skin feel tight and sweat drip down his spine and the backs of his legs. “Fuck you. Yeah. Like it. When…like it when he eats me out. Puts his mouth on my pussy. Whatever. Fuck you.”
Charlie moans against Mac’s hole and it reverberates into Mac’s whole body. One of Charlie’s hands leaves him so he can stuff his fingers inside him again, his prostate once again the center of Charlie’s attention but certainly not the only one. His tongue doesn’t leave, laving around his own fingers and pressing deep inside of him.
He jerks so hard he almost kicks Charlie in the stomach when Dennis snakes a hand between them, using the cum there to jerk both of them off in his hand. Dennis leans up to kiss him but they’re just panting in each other’s mouths, choked off whimpering sounds bouncing back and forth between them.
“There you go,” Dennis coos, his voice cold and commandeering in the way Mac usually makes fun of him for because he’s failing to sound authoritative, but he can’t now. “You wanna come again? Hmm?”
Mac nods, gulping for air when Charlie seals his mouth around him and sucks. “Yes, please. Please.”
Dennis nips at Mac’s jaw. “Come, then.” He flicks his wrist, sets a punishing pace jerking both of them off. “C’mon, girl, come for us.”
And it’s stupid, and Mac hates it, and he’s going to beat the shit out of Dennis for calling him it, he’s totally going to, but he can’t do it right then. Because right then he’s whining and coming dry between their bodies, shaking and writhing in the iron grip of Charlie’s arms hooked under his thighs and around his hips.
After, Mac sort of slumps off to the side, spent and liquid. He’s got tears running down his cheek again, but he doesn’t blink them away. Instead, he watches as Charlie crawls up Dennis' body, a predator hunting his prey. His cock is heavy and leaking, and Mac almost makes a bid to get fucked again if Charlie wasn’t taking his place, wrapping their cocks in his hand and stroking languidly.
“Wait,” Dennis whispers. He leans up to kiss Charlie, hand on the side of his neck. Charlie does, holding them both by the base that can’t really complete a full circle around the sheer girth of the two of them, before Dennis is pulling away. He looks…nervous…which is kind of insane considering, before he’s pushing himself down on the mattress until he’s under Charlie’s legs and propped up on his elbows. Mac’s breath catches as Dennis pulls the head of Charlie’s cock in his mouth, past his red, red lips shiny with spit.
Charlie groans, falls forward until he can hold himself up with one arm on Mac’s headboard and the other tangled gently into Dennis’ hair. Dennis’ pretty eyes flutter shut as he whines, takes Charlie as deep as he can into his mouth, making that noise Mac has only ever heard in porn, the shallow fuck against the soft palate, saliva pooling in the corners of his mouth and dripping down his face.
“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Mac asks, sitting up so he can trace down Dennis’ Adam’s apple, smooth his hand up his throat.
Dennis pulls off with a gasp, and Mac can sense his reluctance. “I was in college forever,” is the only explanation he gives, a bitchy callback if Mac has ever seen one. But he doesn’t argue, would much rather watch Dennis kiss the head of Charlie’s cock, sloppily licking his slit before he’s taking Charlie into his mouth again, hollowing out his cheeks and going so deep tears dot his eyelashes.
Charlie understandably doesn’t last long, grip hard and forceful on the back of Dennis’ neck while he fills his mouth, his muscles gleaming and statuesque in the moonlight. Dennis isn’t even holding himself up anymore, arms dangling at his sides and letting Charlie take care of the entire weight of his upper body using only his hands and his cock. He’s fawning at him, like Charlie just gave him a diamond necklace instead of almost giving him a pearl one, and Mac starts to wonder if they were justified in treating him like the slut out of the three of them. He’s definitely one of them, but he’s starting to think he may not be the sole star. He’s starting to think maybe it’s all of them.
He kisses Dennis before he can swallow Charlie’s load, licking into his mouth so he can taste it. Dennis lets him, hides his smirk so he can adequately kiss him back, until Charlie is breaking them apart so he can collapse on the bed, spent and glowing from the inside out.
Charlie grins, spreads his legs not to be enticing, but so that he’s touching both of them. “You guys are gonna fucking kill me.”
Mac stares at them, blinking. He combs through everything that just happened, thanks God his dick is down for the count because the sheer memory is enough that, if he’d not been fucked out of his mind with Charlie and Dennis still here, he’d be back on that red dildo faster than he could blink, and realizes.
“Y-You guys are in love with me, right? Like…we’re all…” He tries to make some sort of tangle gesture with his hands, but ends up just making two V’s on either hand scissor one another. “This isn’t, like…”
“I think if you ever fuck someone else again I’m burning this place down with us inside,” Dennis confirms, leaning over to rummage through Mac’s bedside drawer.
Mac almost protests before he sees not any sex toys but the pack of cigarettes he keeps in there, along with a lighter. And yeah, yeah. If there’s any time to indulge in that cliche, it’s after sex like that. There’s only two in the box, though, so Dennis only takes out one, and they split it between them like they’re kids smoking weed in Charlie’s basement again, like nothing could ever make them want anything more than this.
Charlie speaks around the cigarette in his mouth, pulling the comforter from beneath him so he can curl under it. “And I’d let you.”
---
Later, when the cigarette is put out in the ashtray, and they’ve made out again like they’ve never been kissed, Mac will crawl out of bed for water and pick up his phone from where he discarded it on his bedroom floor when Charlie and Dennis first broke into his room. But instead of the clock and his homescreen, the three of them the day they opened the bar, he’ll see:
Ongoing Voice Recording
3:15:22
Oh fuck yes.