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"What are you looking at, Martell?"
Wyatt’s hand slid quickly, almost imperceptibly, under the hem of Jack’s t-shirt. Jack was sitting in his lap, recently having decided that he felt a bit too lonely on the oversized sofa that sat awkwardly in the center of their rented villa’s small living room. The movie they’d put on hadn't interested anyone since that very moment. Jack was sprawled over Wyatt in a drunken, languid pose, pressing his entire body against him, a move Wyatt met with an unashamed smirk. It was with that same smirk, if not a wider one, that he spoke those words just before Jack finally lunged for his lips, forcing Wyatt to at last pull his gaze away from Jaeden.
But actually he didn’t want to be rude, and he didn’t want to embarrass him—well, maybe just a little. Wyatt simply felt the eyes on him and wanted to know exactly what had Jaeden so flustered or intrigued. After all, something had been going on between him and Jack for at least six months now. Six months ago, back in France, Morgan had thrown a truly massive fit after seeing something she was never supposed to... In short, Jaeden had known for a long time, and as far as Wyatt could tell, he was at least indifferent to it, but now...
"Should I leave?"
Both Wyatt and Jack turned sharply toward him. Jaeden sounded blunt, and there wasn't a hint of humor on his face. Wyatt started to say something, but Jack was faster:
"No, of course not! You’re uncomfortable, aren't you? I’m sorry, I... I guess I wasn’t thinking, I probably had too much wine, yeah, you’re right, I—" Jack tried to pull away and get off Wyatt, but Wyatt held him in place.
"It’s not your fault, it’s fine," he said to Jack, his voice calm and steady, but his tone shifted when he looked back at Jaeden. "Does this bother you? So much that you want to leave?"
Jaeden could have sworn he heard the second sentence, even though Wyatt’s parted lips—which were threatening to curl into a smile again—barely moved.
"No, it’s fine," he said, unconsciously shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to turn his attention back to the movie.
However, Jack and Wyatt also returned to what they were doing. Jack’s shirt was hiked up as high as it could go—it looked like it might go flying toward the TV any second—and their kisses were becoming increasingly unrestrained. The noise from the TV couldn't drown out the sound or distract Jaeden from it. He glanced around his armchair and the table, searching for a solution to the problem, and damn it, the remote was on that very sofa. He looked up again, intending to stand up and grab it, but what he saw made him freeze.
It was beyond hot. Pairs of hands tangled in each other's dark curls while their faces were locked in a feverish kiss. What Jaeden was feeling right now wasn't like anything you're supposed to feel while watching your best friends. What Jaeden was feeling right now wasn't like anything at all.
The whole thing looked like another arthouse performance, this time directed specifically for him. It might have sounded crazy, but when Wyatt, still kissing Jack, opened his eyes and caught his gaze, Jaeden was only more convinced of it.
He swallowed and slowly stood up to get the remote anyway, but he simply couldn't break eye contact with Wyatt. He had to look away for just a split second to find the object on the sofa with his hand. And in that exact moment, Wyatt seized the opportunity and grabbed his hand.
"Want to turn it off?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as he met Jaeden’s stunned expression again.
"Good idea, the movie was boring anyway," Jack added with a laugh.
At that moment, it was as if Jaeden blacked out, instinctively hitting the red power button. He looked down at his hand in confusion, at Wyatt’s hand on top of it, and dropped the remote back down. It seemed like nothing major had happened, but he felt an unfamiliar, unspoken influence from his best friend. As if Wyatt knew better than he did what Jaeden actually wanted and needed right now. This wasn't quite how he had imagined their "soul connection.
"Sit," Wyatt said, patting the spot on the corner of the sofa next to him. There was no command or sternness in his voice, but it wasn't necessary. Jack looked between the two of them with interest a few times before smiling playfully, pulling back slightly from Wyatt and leaning his elbow on the back of the sofa.
"I know what you're thinking."
Jaeden immediately turned red and shook his head, which only made Wyatt’s smile grow wider.
"Look, I really don’t mind... It’s your business and I can just go to sleep, it's okay. I have the furthest bedroom anyway," he said, blushing even harder as he realized his words were outrunning his thoughts. He felt physically uncomfortable sitting so close. As quickly and discreetly as possible, he adjusted his sweatshirt and shifted his legs.
"Do you really want to leave?" Jaeden’s eyes went wide. He hadn't drunk nearly enough to misinterpret the meaning of that offer. Because it was an offer. He couldn't find the words. "You can leave, if that’s truly what you want right now."
Wyatt’s words made him sink back into the sofa. It was the absolute opposite of an attempt to leave. He gave a slow nod, noticing that Wyatt had already turned his entire body toward him.
And then, he finally made his move.
Instead of getting up to go, Jaeden sat on one of Wyatt's knees, confidently taking Jack’s place, and rested his hands on Wyatt’s shoulders. Wyatt bit his lip, his gaze dropping to the telling folds in Jaeden’s shorts, and squeezed him through the fabric. Then, just as nonchalantly, he used his free hand to pull Jack back in, dragging him into another kiss, pausing only long enough for Jack's already stretched-out t-shirt to finally hit the floor.
The tension this created finally pushed Jaeden over the edge. But he couldn't move; Wyatt’s hand was holding him too firmly for him to do anything. He waited for the moment the two of them pulled apart for a second and lunged to kiss Jack first, while his other hand pressed down on Wyatt’s shoulder, preventing him from interfering.
Jack’s eyebrows shot up for only a moment before he responded to Jaeden’s hungry kiss, as Jaeden led him almost as confidently as Wyatt did. And all the while, Jaeden kept his eyes wide open, staring at Wyatt. He felt the grip on him loosen and let out a satisfied moan into the kiss, finally squeezing his eyes shut and cupping Jack’s face.
Jaeden felt a touch on his waist but didn't stop to think whose it was until something wet touched his neck. Gentle and weightless—he didn't immediately feel the stubble—Wyatt was being careful with him, and for some reason, it made his head spin. Jaeden actually faltered, losing his rhythm in the kiss. After a few seconds, he pulled away from Jack entirely, unashamedly tilting his head back to expose his neck. To be fair, his face was redder than the rug in the living room, but his slightly trembling hands were busy unbuttoning Wyatt’s linen shirt.
"I think I got carried away, sorry," Wyatt murmured, pulling back to look at Jaeden’s neck before meeting his smiling face and smiling back. Jaeden reached out to touch his lips, but Wyatt pulled away and nudged him back, crushing the hope in Jaeden's puppy-dog eyes.
Instead, Jack leaned into the now-free knees, but only for a moment to whisper something in Wyatt's ear, earning an even more pleased smile and a chuckle from him.
Jaeden didn't hear a thing; he just knit his thick eyebrows together in annoyance, then shot them up as he watched Jack sink to his knees and Wyatt spread his own wider.
"Come here," Wyatt said, nodding to Jack while trying to wipe the puzzled, slightly miffed look off Jaeden’s face. It was easy enough—he ran his thumb gently over Jaeden's cheekbone, forcing him to look at him.
For the first time seriously, for the first time consciously, and most importantly, for the first time with mutual desire, they were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Jaeden could have sworn he saw Wyatt flush slightly, though he’d never admit to it. Wyatt got flustered often but always denied it, trying to keep his cool. And Jaeden loved flustering him—he just loved him, period, there was no point hiding it. But their love had never manifested like this.
Not like this—feeling every breath, every pulse, the impatient grazing of lips, the rough skin of new stubble, the touch of a tongue that was polite at first and then insistent. Jack didn't kiss like that; he was fast and almost messy. Here, there was a clear rhythm and a sense of calculation known only to Wyatt himself. Somehow, Jaeden couldn't get used to it or predict the next move, and it caused his mind to fill with thoughts that ventured far beyond a single kiss. He hadn't even noticed that his hand had moved from Wyatt’s hair to his chest, while the other hooked into the waistband of his underwear beneath his shorts.
At that exact moment, however, Wyatt pulled back, breaking the kiss and leaving Jaeden hanging off his shoulder with wet, parted lips. Wyatt let out a groan, his gaze dropping to watch Jack’s lips as he began to suckle, then slowly take him in. Jack was being patient and diligent, focusing on the sensitive spots instead of doing everything chaotically his own way. Wyatt had taught him that. And right now, watching the result of their combined efforts was more satisfying than ever. Almost as satisfying as feeling it.
And surprisingly, he wasn't the only one enjoying the view.
"What are you looking at, Martell?"
Wyatt ran his hand down Jaeden’s bare back, collecting the sweat that had pooled between his shoulder blades, and buried his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He did nearly the same to Jack. Jaeden looked at him and stopped his hand's movement, his fingers clenched tight; he was doing this while still fully clothed. The look in the heated eyes of Wyatt, whose temples were starting to glisten with sweat, made Jaeden go cold and unconsciously squeeze himself.
Then, his eyes accidentally dropped back down to Jack.
"Take them off. Show me how much this is turning you on," Wyatt said. Jaeden stared at him, swallowing hard. It had been obvious from the start, so why was he acting shy now? "Do I have to do it myself?"
"N-no," he stammered, nodding a few times before reaching for the drawstring of his shorts. But Wyatt’s hands were faster again.
"Your body language makes it hard to lie," Wyatt whispered into his ear, his palm sweeping broadly over him, getting slick with precum. Then, smirking, he ran his fingers over Jaeden’s parted lips.
"Can you focus?" Jack stopped and looked up at him from under his brow.
"So sorry, darling, I won't do it again," Wyatt said, first gently twining a few curly strands around his fingers, then gradually increasing the tension until Jack gave in and relaxed his neck. And his throat.
Jaeden licked his lips in silence, listening to a few quiet gasps and incoherent mumbling. Jack’s eyes were starting to water, and Jaeden thought about how he couldn't do that, at least not right now. But he really wanted to. He sped up the movement of his hand, his breathing falling into sync with Wyatt’s, until he finally arched his back, burying his head in Wyatt’s chest, thrusting into his hand with more and more desperation.
He finished quietly enough, practically collapsing onto Wyatt, but Wyatt held his trembling body and carefully eased him back against the sofa. It took Jaeden about a minute to catch his breath and watch the finale of the performance through half-closed lids.
"Jack, wait. Jack."
The words were out before he could even think them through. He whispered it so softly it seemed Wyatt didn't hear. Jaeden leaned toward Jack and pulled him closer with his left hand to kiss him—well, you could hardly call it a kiss, as he essentially just licked the viscous fluid off Jack's tongue. It happened too fast, and Jack pulled away, his eyes wide and his lips curled into a smirk, as if he hadn't expected something like that from Jaeden. He ruffled Jaeden’s hair and, laughing, stood up. When Jaeden finally looked at Wyatt, his cheeks were red again, but he felt a bit more confident. Wyatt didn't look shocked or appalled; if anything, he looked more than pleased with what had happened, and with the whole situation in general.
"Would you be happy to join us in the future?"
"You're actually asking him?"
"True," Wyatt said, not even bothering to hide his laugh. He looked back at Jaeden, who was pulling up his underwear and throwing his shorts at Wyatt and his shirt at Jack, making both of them laugh even louder.