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The flat is quiet. Marc is napping on the floor in front of the couch, his book strewn over his chest. Jake is asleep too. His ear is pressed into his chest, and Steven’s fingers are buried in his curls.
Steven glances at the clock, and a spark of hope makes him smile. They’re sleeping. He can make it.
He begins to lift Jake off of him, trying to free himself from Jake’s considerable weight. Biting back a grimace from the tight pain radiating up his back, riddled with knots.
Jake resettles on top of him.
He moves him again, with both hands under the front of his shoulders.
Jake undoes his progress with an innocent smile, sinking completely on top of him.
Well. There goes his escape plan.
He murmurs, “Let me up.”
“No.”
“Jake.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“I can't be late.”
Jake opens an eye. “For what?”
Well, Jake certainly won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. And Marc will wake up like it’s intuition.
So Steven drags his fingers along Jake’s scalp. As soon as Jake shivers, he seizes the moment and shoves him off.
Jake crashes on top of Marc. Marc jolts awake, flips them over and pins him by the throat.
Jake grins and holds Marc’s wrist. “Mm, mas duro.”
Marc blinks like he’s coming out of a trance. “My bad.” He sits back on Jake’s stomach and wipes the coal from his eyes.
The gears are turning in Jake’s head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. His hands glide up Marc’s thighs. Marc's eyes roam over Jake in interest and the corner of his lips turn up.
Steven rises from the couch and steps around them before they get too carried away.
It draws Marc’s attention, and he asks Jake, “Where’s he going?”
“Oh. He didn’t tell you either?”
Steven opens up their closet. “You two were supposed to be napping by now.”
Jake gasps. “You’re seeing someone else. I knew it.”
“Yeah, Steven, what does he have that we don’t?”
Steven smiles to himself and plucks a shirt and pants. “He’s 6’5. With a giant dick.”
Jake laughs.
Satisfied with his selected clothes, he shuts the doors. Marc and Jake’s eyes track him as he walks to the bathroom. His posture is too stiff to hide.
“I have an appointment,” he finally says.
Jake sits up, confused. Marc climbs off him, but Jake holds his hand before he gets too far. “Did I forget?”
“No, darling, I didn’t tell you.”
Marc props himself up on the seat of the couch with his elbows, watching lazily. “Your back got worse.”
Steven shuts the door and changes quickly. “A little.”
Marc sounds concerned through the door. “Enough for you to admit it and make an appointment for a doctor.”
“No, not a doctor.” He opens the door again and fixes his hair at the sink. “A masseuse.”
Resounding silence echoes behind him. He looks in the mirror at his partners and finds them both insulted with equal frowns. Jake has his jacket and Marc is holding his travel bag.
He pauses. “Loves? You alright?”
They glance at each other. It’s Marc who speaks up. “What’s wrong with our massages?”
Jake asks seriously, “Have we been hurting you all this time?”
“Of course not.” Steven looks himself over one last time, tousles his hair over his forehead, and exits the bathroom. “It’s the exact opposite, really. I’ll take those, thanks.”
“The opposite?” Marc asks quietly, close now. He hands Steven his bag.
Steven fights a shiver and eases his jacket from Jake’s hands. “Mhm. No big deal.”
Jake takes the jacket back and holds it up like a gentleman. Steven fights to keep his focus as he turns around and slides his arms in.
Jake steps closer, right against his back. “As in… we’re too good?”
Steven flushes against his will and turns around to meet Jake’s eyes. “As in I want to get through the massage for once.”
Marc purrs in his ear, “Steven.”
Steven elbows him in the stomach and scowls when he hits firm muscle. It only makes his partners heckle.
“Back off, both of you!” He hooks his bag over his shoulder. “I’m off to my very boring massage with a stranger who I feel nothing for. She has stellar reviews.”
Marc crosses his arms with an infuriating little smirk. “Okay. Enjoy your very boring massage.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
Jake adds, “Fantastic.”
“Wonderful.” Steven’s eyes flick over both of them. God, they’re handsome. And whenever they touch him they always know exactly what they're doing. Is this smart, or stupid?
Jake drawls, “I thought you were leaving.”
“I am.” Steven stomps away. He grabs his keys off the hook next to the door and shoves his feet into his sneakers. “And I won’t be back.”
He slips out and slams the door behind him. The opposite neighbor's door stares at him.
Honestly, those two will be the death of him.
He sets his jaw and walks to the elevator. Trying to imagine how it’ll be. Strong hands are a given, but they’ll be slimmer. Unfamiliar. Foreign. A staged environment, one without the smell of his weathered books or the lingering aroma of coffee or the whiff of Jake’s cologne.
A session without Marc’s targeted praise. Without Jake’s soft coaxing. Without oil that smells like sweet almonds, without their lips trailing along his skin.
He never presses the button.
No, instead he marches back down to room 502 and flings open the door.
Jake is straightening the covers on their bed. Marc has the massage oil in his hand and is closing the cabinet back.
Jake says without looking up, “Welcome back.”
Steven shucks off his jacket and mutters over their snickers, “You two are the worst.”
“I believe you said it’s the opposite,” Marc tosses the oil like a baseball as he walks to the bed. “Now strip, sweetheart.”
Jake strolls to Steven and helps him undress. “And don’t worry, mi amor.” He presses a feather soft kiss to Steven’s neck. Steven's breath shudders out of his lungs and he bites his lip. “We’ll make sure you last through the whole thing.”