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The cycle, it seemed, had come full circle again. Though at least this time things were going to be different. Cherry knew the pattern, as did Pico and Keith. Crawling feelings of hollowness, not enough of being loved, body feeling completely wrong and lonely. A few months ago this pattern would entail either one of the boys trying to suffer through it alone, because that’s what they’d learned to do for years. Something that ended up rubbing off on the demoness as well, and that was when they all decided that it had to stop. No more going off alone to lick their wounds because doing that only made it all feel worse. They would communicate when something was wrong. All three of them went through the same struggle, it was stupid to think judgements would come from embarrassing vulnerability.
This time, for the first time ever, they seemed to all sync up for once. Which was unfortunate in the fact they were all feeling like shit, but fortunate because they were all home together. Shy and unsure of how to bring the topic up, but the difference was clear because no one was being avoidant, no one was trying to hide away and cause themselves any more pain than they already had to experience.
Cherry noticed it first in herself- a discomfort that first sat in the pit of her stomach. A weight that felt like a bowling ball crushing down, and then it started spreading throughout her body and making her skin prickle in the worst way. She knew exactly what this was, and of course it had to happen today, why wouldn’t it? Because apparently just the normal amount of kissing and cuddling she did with her boyfriends was still not enough to keep this from happening. It was already like they were surgically attached at the hips, but still her body craved more. What a greedy bitch she turned out to be- oh, Gee, don’t be so harsh on yourself now. This was exactly the behavior that caused the disconnect of communication in the first place.
Cherry’s tail was lashing back and forth where she stood. The kitchen was her favorite place in the apartment aside from the bedroom. All of her teas were in there, as well as her candles. Pico insisted she keep them in the one room that was meant to handle fires. Keith had complained that her candles were too strong-smelling to keep in the bedroom. It was a little funny how despite being a demon, with all heightened senses, Keith’s sense of smell seemed to be stronger than hers. The only downside of keeping them in the kitchen was now they were starting to pile up in a haphazard collection in the corner. Was she a hoarder? Maybe a little, but there were so many nice smells at the candle shop and why wouldn’t she buy them?
Distracted. A gross shockwave of discomfort roamed over the skin of her arms, snapping Cherry back to reality. Right. Everything sucked. There was no way in hell she was going to tough through this nonsense alone again. The sky was cloudy outside, everything was already dull and dreary. What better time to spend ignoring the outside world than now with her boyfriends?
“Keith? Pico?” The demoness called, pushing herself off the counter. “Are either of you busy right now?”
“No, not particularly.” Keith’s voice came from the couch in the other room, and Cherry immediately noticed his tone sounded tight. Something was wrong. “I was just about to come looking for you and Pico, actually. Where’s the idiot hitman?”
“I’m in bed.” The voice of said hitman traveled down the hallway. Even more tightness in his voice too. “Could use some company, if you guys don’t mind.”
Cherry blinked. “Wait a minute…” She and Keith met in the middle, sharing a quick kiss and making their way down the hall to the bedroom where Pico already was, cocooned in their shared blanket. They could still see his face as it was unobscured. He looked uncomfortable but tried to hide it at the same time. “No damn way in hell we’re all stupid again. Oh my god, we are, aren’t we! That would almost be funny if it wasn’t annoying.”
“I’m… not following.” Admitted Keith with a sheepish look. “How are we being stupid exactly?”
“You, mister, are touch-starved and craving.” Cherry teased slightly, pointing a finger to the ginger burrito in bed. His face flushed and eyes narrowed, but he didn’t protest the claim. “And so are you, Biff. I can hear it in your voice. And guess what? So am I! So we’re all stupid. Incredible.”
“How did we all even get here?! We already cuddle literally every damn day, how is this still happening? I don’t understand.” Pico whined, frustrated. “How fucking greedy can we get? This is so stupid.”
“Ah-ah, no being rude. This is the first time the cycle’s come back around after the last time. We’re doing things differently now.” Cherry admonished lightly. “I have an idea. You guys don’t have to actually do it, because it’s intimate and I don’t want to force you. But considering skin-to-skin contact helps best with this, it might help to take our tops off.”
The boys watched her carefully as she crossed the room, swapping her dress out for a pair of long pajama pants. She kept her bra while she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “Just easier than having to fight against fabric.”
Keith shrugged, following her lead and raising his signature white shirt up above his head and off. He could feel the two pairs of eyes burning into his chest and back as he did, grinning to himself that he could make them stare. It was always nice to be reminded you were considered attractive. He and Cherry joined Pico in bed, coaxing him to sit up.
“Okay, how do we want to do this?” Cherry asked quietly. “What do we all need right now? I could go for anything, I don’t really care. I just want contact. Someone’s becoming my teddy bear and you two can fight for it if you want. Keith?”
“I want to be held.” The rapper admitted under his breath. He’d tried to not be embarrassed, but it was still hard to be open about it in this state of mind. “God that still feels so fucking stupid to say. Only in this mindset too, I can admit to that no problem literally any other time but now it’s just mortifying. Fucking hate this shit- oh, damn, Pico?”
The conversation was derailed by the hitman who, surprisingly, removed his sweater while the two were talking. His face was burning as usual, and he couldn’t quite meet their eyes while he tossed it to the nightstand. “I want… I want both.” He bit out slowly, seemingly having an internal war with himself. “Fuck, what was the code again? It’s been months and I’ve forgotten the little system we used. I guess it doesn’t really matter since we’re all shirtless. I’m going to hope and pray you two have enough of a brain cell to know what ‘both’ means.”
Keith snorted out a laugh. “We’re not that dumb. Well, not all the time. I think this calls for another sandwich situation.”
The three of them wordlessly began moving, all slotting into place. Cherry’s back was against the head of the bed, arms around Pico’s stomach as he sat in her lap. She buried her nose gently against the small space between his shoulder blades, taking a deep breath and soaking in the comfort of having a warm body right up against hers. Keith was tucked snuggly in Pico’s arms, his hands overlapping with Cherry’s. The demoness’ tail was stretched to wrap around the rapper’s middle since her hands were otherwise occupied. Pico had his face slightly buried in the bright blue hair of the man in his lap. They all sat in silence for a few minutes, letting themselves derive comfort from the contact their bodies had started desperately craving.
“I saw you guys were surprised that I took my sweater off.” Pico said after a while. “Is it really that shocking?”
“Well, not to be that guy, but you almost never do that.” Keith replied. “Any time that sweater is anywhere not on your person is like, rarer than your chances of winning the lottery.”
“I wear the sweater because it gives me a sense of security. It’s stupid.” Pico mumbled into the mop of Keith’s hair. “The less exposed I am the better. It gives back my own body heat and it’s comforting. That’s how it’s been for years. Being safe is always my priority. And now I’m here without it and at the moment I’m fine. Your arms are warm and I can feel Cherry’s pulse through her wrists pressed against my skin, bare skin. Fuck, you two make me feel safe and that’s so dangerous. But I can’t stop chasing it.”
Cherry and Keith snuggled all that much closer to Pico for that. Any kind of vulnerability from the hitman was something they knew took effort, so whenever he actually did share they were compelled to reward him for it. Physical vulnerability stacked on top of emotional vulnerability. Both, at the same time, from Pico of all people? If Cherry and Keith didn’t know any better, they’d think the world was ending.
“I like your sweater.” Keith said after a few seconds. “It’s nice, and warm, and it smells like you. I like anything that makes you happy. But it’s not stupid, Peeks. I have a comfort item too, if it makes you feel better. My microphone. I’m almost always carrying it, if not then it’s somewhere nearby. You and Cherry both know I have rejection sensitivity, and the microphone feels like a buffer against it. Helps me with the auto-tune because then I can sound however I want, adjust to any situation. Makes it harder to disappoint with my actual voice.”
“Disappoint?” Cherry frowned, squeezing her tail tighter around his waist. “Your actual singing voice is wonderful, Biff. Even though you only use it rarely. I’m glad you’ve let us hear it at all. I love those moments when you do.”
“She’s right.” Pico spoke, fatigue starting to slip into his voice. It was often he’d get sleepy surrounded by his partners’ body heat. “Your voice and Cherry’s are two of my favorite sounds. You should sing to us without the microphone more. You wouldn’t have to worry about any rejection from us, I promise.”
“Mmm…” Keith hummed, snuggling his face under Pico’s chin more. “Maybe. Baby steps.” He sighed, pressing his lips to the hitman’s collarbone.
Pico shivered, arms wrapping tighter around the other man. “Biff…” He warned, but it was hollow. “I’m not saying stop, but you know exactly what you’re going to do to me if you continue.”
Cherry’s muffled giggling vibrated against the skin of his back where she was cuddled. Pico rolled his eyes, pushing his elbow backwards to playfully nudge at her.
“God forbid I find something funny.” The demoness grumbled playfully. “I can’t say I have a comfort item like you two do, really. I don’t think my speaker set counts. Hmm… Can I get away with saying you two are my comfort things instead? Or is that too corny?”
“Can’t say I’d be surprised to hear it.” Pico joked, leaning back more against her chest. “You like being corny. Keith likes being corny. Dumb sentiment that’s rubbing off on even me, you better stop that shit right now.”
“Shit, Gee, he’s onto us.” Keith snickered. “He knows what we’re after now. Trying to make sappy Pico the norm. Come on, Peeks, you know how nice us being sappy to you makes you feel, don’t deny it. And you have the capability to be incredibly sappy back, we’ve seen it. Normally when you’re a bit sleep deprived, but still.”
“Nah, you’ll have to torture that out of me before I willingly become that soft all the time.” Pico said stubbornly, a small smile forming on his lips. “I have limits. You two idiots might be able to stretch those limits but not break them entirely.”
“Not yet, anyway.” Cherry purred. “We’ll make an emotional softie out of you yet. And then you’ll have another skill under your belt aside from being a strong hitman and cunning survivalist.”
“I don’t think there’s any benefit for me to have that skill in reality.”
“Benefit: It would make us happy.” Chimed in the rapper.
“Oh, so I don’t make you guys happy already? I see how it is.” Pico teased, playing up the dramatics. “Here I was thinking I was doing so well. What a shocking betrayal!”
“Nooo, you do make us happy. You make us so happy, Pico, I could go on after hours about it.” Cherry whined, pressing her face into his back. She grinned slightly at the shivers she got from talking directly into his skin. “You wouldn’t let me go on for hours though. You wouldn’t even be able to handle two minutes of nonstop praise. That’s cute. You’ve got so many sides to who you are and I love every single one of them. Even the ones you think are bad.”
“Gee…” The hitman’s face started flushing again. “Dammit, you may be the nicest demon I’ve ever met but you sure do like making people squirm. Fuck’s sake.”
“Did you forget you’re my teddy bear right now?” She replied mischievously. “Didn’t know it was a crime to play with my toy.”
“We’re supposed to be helping each other feel better, not killing each other babe.” Keith cut in, cackling. “You’re going to make him too embarrassed to keep cuddling.”
“He’s stuck between us, he can’t escape. I don’t care how strong he is, he’s not going anywhere. Pico is going to stay here and listen to how happy he makes us.”
He makes them happy, huh? Pico knew he did in the back of his mind, but it was always something special to actually hear it out loud. Stuck between two sappy, sentimental idiots. He let out an amused sigh, shaking his head as he took one of Keith’s hands in his. “You two are so stupid.” He said, letting that hang in the air for a little before bringing the intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of the rapper’s hand slowly. “But you’re my stupid people. Give me one of your hands, Cherry, you get one too.”
The demoness fell into fits of delighted giggles when Pico took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her wrist, him taking a guilty pleasure of feeling her heartbeat through this action. He liked reminders that they were alive.
“He’s losing the battle. He’s becoming sentimental whether he likes it or not.” Keith teased, pressing another kiss to Pico’s skin in the space between his shoulder and neck. “You’re adorable. Endearing. Several other words that are positive that you’d punch me for if I sat here listing them all.”
“Don’t push it.” Pico growled, tone not matching his actions as he tightened his arms around him again. He knocked his head back a little to bump gently against Cherry’s behind him. “We’re supposed to be fixing each other’s touch-starvedness, not pushing each other’s buttons like assholes.”
“Could do both.”
“Shut up, Keith.”
Comfortable silence swept them all up again, drinking in each other's company and touch. It was nice, a much more pleasant way to deal with the ugly waves over touch-starvedness that overwhelmed them at random times. Pico found himself pressing his hands firmly into Keith’s back, giving him a massage and drawing satisfied and happy groans from him. Cherry returned to her habit of kissing patterns of constellations with the freckles on the hitman’s back as she squeezed him like an oversized teddy bear. Soft hands, gentle touches. The crawling discomfort that raced across each of their skin slowly subsided, but none of them bothered to move.
The cloudy sky outside the window had turned into a small, weak rain. The sound soothed the trio more, each melting further into their shared embrace. Cherry’s tail curled that much more around Keith’s stomach. Pico learned further back against Cherry, trying to be as close as possible while he kept Keith tucked perfectly under his chin. Keith kept his arms comfortably tight around Pico’s middle and back, a stray finger rubbing small contact against one of Cherry’s overlapping arms.
The cycle may continue, but handled differently now. Cherry didn’t have to go chasing after her boys to help make them feel better. Pico and Keith were already so much better at asking for help instead of trying to hide away and suffer. Progress was so, so wonderful.