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Lucius hums pleasantly as Fang swipes a warm wash cloth across his belly and legs. It's one of his favorite parts of nights with Fang. Pete and Izzy are generous and kind with their aftercare, but something is special about the way Fang cleans him up, like he's afraid of wiping too hard and ruining Lucius’s delicate skin. He waits for him to get close enough to grab at him, pulling him in to steal his kiss-swollen lips again.
“Thanks, love.” He pecks at him again and again until he's had his fill, “hey, do you wanna watch the sunrise with me?” It's a soft request, though not the first time he's ever asked. The balcony off of him and Pete’s bedroom gave them plenty of use.
“Absolutely,” Fang nods, an excited smile spreading along his lips, “but first, pants and coffee.”
It's week three of Pete working third shift and it was completely draining for both of them. Lucius has never taken kindly to sleeping alone, and it was even worse after meeting Pete. He slot so perfectly, gave off just the right amount of heat, and his snore was the cutest thing Lucius has ever heard. He’s perfect.
But they haven't slept together since he started. It's been painful.
Lucius gathers his comforter and wraps it around himself, grabbing his phone and his pack of cigarettes. He's not going to fuck with clothes if he's just going to shower and none of their neighbors will be able to see them anyway if he flashes his junk.
The balcony isn't big by any means, but it fits a small outdoor set complete with table and sofa. He takes a seat in his usual corner, enjoying the way the cool morning air wraps around the limited skin he's showing.
It's still dark out, but a golden hue is starting on the horizon and Lucius stares at the halo as he smacks his carton against his hand. I should stop, he thinks to himself, but he knows that won't come any time soon. He started smoking as a means to calm the beast inside of him, the moment the nicotine hit his brain his thoughts seemed to stop. The only problem is he enjoys it now, and you can't really fix a bad habit that you like doing until you don't like it anymore.
Fang comes back exactly as promised with gray pajama pants on and coffee mugs in each meaty fist. He passes one off to Lucius before taking the spot next to him.
“Not even gonna put a shirt on then?” Lucius speaks around the filter of his cigarette, “just gonna let your nips get all hard.” He flicks the track on his lighter once, then twice, but nothing happens. He tries again, then shakes the little bastard. “Fuck.”
“I like when my nips are hard.” Fang produces his own lighter, flicking the zippo open and bringing the dancing flame to Lucius’s cigarette. He's thankful as he takes a drag, the end glowing bright red. It’s always the first lungfull that gets him, feeling the smoke curl around his lips and nose as he exhales.
“Thanks, babe.” Lucius leans in, pressing a kiss arm before nuzzling against him as he packs his pipe. The sun is growing bolder as it peaks along the hill, stretching along the vast land behind them.
Lucius never thought himself much for suburbia, always more of a city dweller, until now. It's nice to have space of your own. To be able to entertain or relax in quiet air or sit in the rising sun with your lover after a pleasant night of edging. You know, suburban stuff.
He figured living here would be temporary when he moved in. After being kicked out of his last apartment, and with nowhere to go, living with Izzy and Fang in their giant, tree lined wet dream seemed like a good opportunity. But he loved being within walking distance of shops and food and bars. He loved the sound of cars passing by and fighting in the distance. He figured once he was back on his feet, he would leave the warm carpet of the house on the hill and land on the cold concrete of the inner city.
Thank fuck he was wrong, because how could he miss out on this? After Pete’s lease ended and they all agreed he could move in, there was no reason for him to desire the city anymore. He could take a bus if he wanted to, or drive if he was feeling confident, but the more he found a home here, the less he felt the need.
He sips his coffee. Fang always burns it, somehow, but Lucius suspects he likes it that way because he's happy to drink it. Lucius only drinks his because he can't deny coffee, especially when he doesn't have to make it.
“When’s Pete off nights?”
Lucius shrugs. Never? “Dunno. He said another week, but they're so short that I doubt they even know how long.” He never wanted Pete to take the security guard position in the first place, but he figured it couldn't be too bad at a hospital. The thought of Pete with a taser on his hip was worrisome.
“Ah, let's be positive.” Fang puffs away on his pipe, hands clasped over his belly. “We can do one more week. And then we threaten his boss.”
The sun is warming the earth, half above the horizon. It feels like she's creeping up on them, honestly, trying to catch them doing something scandalous. Yellows and oranges streak the cloudless blue sky like finger paints. And of course, like the good millennial he is, he decides it's the perfect time to take an artsy photo and upload it to social media. He tags it something with a lot of thumbs up emojis and sends it off into the internet like he's pushing a baby out of his nest.
The app takes hold of him, though, and he starts to scroll mindless through his feed. All social media apps look the same, pictures of people having fun or in love or doing dumb shit like skydiving or windsurfing.
He stops at a picture from Frenchie’s feed. Izzy is in it, which shocks Lucius half to death. He never lets Lucius take pictures of or with him. Not without wanting to chop his head off and hold it up like a trophy after. It's a funny feeling to see him photographed there, facing the younger man like he's the only thing he can see while Frenchie squints at the camera.
Is this what jealousy feels like?
“This might sound weird, but how do you feel about this whole Frenchie thing?”
Innocent enough, right? Fang is married to the guy, he's the one who's opinion really matters. Lucius taps the heart button and scrolls away.
Fang shrugs, “what do you mean? He's a good kid. Izzy seems to like him a lot.”
“Well like, what if he likes him…too much?” Lucius flicks the ash from his cigarette and locks his phone.
“Can you like someone too much?”
Lucius supposes you can, but not the way he's thinking. He knows where this feeling is coming from, even if he doesn't necessarily understand why. It isn’t like he’s jealous of Fang for loving Pete or Pete for loving Fang. Why did this feel so different?
“What if he…”
“What if he becomes a great addition to the house on the hill?” Fang offers, and it’s just like him to push the pieces into place. “We don't always have to like our partner’s choice in lovers in a situation like this. And we can tell them our fears and worries, and we hope they get better with time and that they won't come true. Izzy didn't like Pete and now look at them!”
They were getting along better since the night they came home bloody and bruised. It’s scary how close they've gotten, actually.
“But don't you ever get jealous?”
“Absolutely!” Fang shouldn't sound that happy, or that proud, but he has his excited energy showing. “They went to a whiskey tasting the other night and Izzy couldn't stop talking about it.” The smells this, the tastes that, Frenchie said this and did that and laughed, “it hurt, couldn't he do that with me? But Lucius…”
Lucius pulls his head from Fang’s shoulder. He’s all fucking ears now, “I hate whiskey. I would have been bored to tears. And I was the one he came to tell after he got home. He took his shoes off and immediately came to find me.”
Lucius thinks back on the first few months of his situation at the Hands’ household. How Fang would take him out and the moment he'd enter Pete’s apartment, he'd kiss him and fawn over the time he had. Pete could have been jealous the entire time and Lucius would have had no idea, because he never saw anything but excitement back.
“How do you deal with that feeling, though?”
“It's all in how you react,” Fang taps his pipe against his hand, letting the ash fall, “I acknowledge my jealousy. It's there for a reason, but it doesn't own me. I could be cold or distant, but not only does that hurt him, it hurts me. I would miss his smile when he thinks he's funny, or the kisses I get when he's had a good night out. Their relationship doesn't stop ours from being very deep, and very real, just like my relationship with you doesn't. It just feels different because he’s new and he doesn't live with us.”
“Yet,” Lucius inserts.
“Maybe he never will.” Fang shrugs, “whatever the future brings, we’ll work through it as we get there. We always do.”
The door snaps them both to attention as it slides open. Pete steps out and onto the balcony in his pajamas and Fang cries the sweetest Petey! for a greeting. He kisses Lucius first, but takes Fang next and then plops down heavily across from them.
“How was work?” Lucius tries, though he knows the answer.
“It was fine. Just tired.” He's rubbing his face, his eyes, his head, “what are you guys talking about?”
“Nothing–”
“Lucius is jealous of Frenchie.” Fang interrupts, earning a glare from Lucius. Really?
But Pete smiles, “me too.” Lucius’s head swivels. Do they meet to discuss emotional clarity? No one could be this good at understanding themselves.
“What?” He’s more confused than anything.
“Yeah,” Pete nods, his brows furrowed like he's confused why the question was even asked. “Look how quickly Izzy took to him. He doesn't even say anything mean about him and the kid trips over his own feet more than I do. Izzy's soft on him, why wouldn’t I be jealous?”
The sun is warm so Lucius lowers his blanket, wrapping it around his stomach instead, “I just…didn't expect you to be so open about it.”
Pete shrugs, “you never ask. Which isn't bad.” He adds, “some emotions are just for you to work out, unless you can't. Then we’re here to help.”
He knows the jealousy will fade (or at least hopes) and they’ll go back to playing happy family with a new addition. Maybe they’ll even get closer and become friends, he doesn't know, but the future, and all of the emotions that come with it are as bright as the sun in the sky.
“Also Frenchie’s hot. Just to throw that out there.” Pete’s always good about adding to the discussion, but apparently that's something all of them can agree on, because even Lucius feels his head bobbing in a nod of agreement.