gk, you who are my home, 9/9, nc17, brad/nate/ray, 10,698

[sephirothflame]

The one thing that doesn’t change after that first night that Nate called, reached out to them specifically, is that Nate always sets the schedule. The dates and location are up to Ray - and sometimes Brad’s discretion - but if they fuck, it’s up to Nate to initiate contact between them.

It works, for the most part. It’s the only way they know for sure that it’s Nate who wants this, who wants them to fuck them, and not just them pushing their desires onto him. This thing between them - because it’s definitely a thing, even if Ray doesn’t know what sort - has enough questionability in its roots.

Besides, there’s something thrilling about knowing that Nate is calling because he needs them, badly, and he’ll take what he can get. Sometimes he only gets a quick fuck from both of them, pinning him to the bed and biting rough marks into his skin so he knows he’s theirs before they leave him wanting. Others, they’ll tie him up and keep him on edge all night, make him beg for release until he’s gone hoarse from pleading. He comes so hard on nights like that.

Nate is embarrassed about the sounds he makes, and it would be endearing if it wasn’t so frustrating. It takes a lot of biting and bruising, fucking into him so hard the headboard cracks against the wall to get Nate to make the smallest of sounds. It might be the point behind Nate holding back, maybe, but Ray thinks it has to do with the way Nate is always so tense at the start.

Nate doesn’t want to want this as bad as he does, and maybe he wishes it would go away, but he still calls every other week to ask for Brad and Ray to tie him up and use him. He still comes all over himself when Brad and Ray fuck him senseless, still begs for more until it pains him to be touched. Ray has no idea what it says about Nate, other than obvious masochism, but he’s not going to let Nate go for as long as he can keep him.

What they have is unconventional, and probably more than a little bit fucked up, but they all need it. It’s weird to need something this badly, especially this thing with Nate, given the circumstances but Ray wants it too much to care. This thing, here, it works for them, and that’s all that matters.

- - -

It works until, one day, it doesn’t.

- - -

The adrenaline is pumping through Ray’s system white hot, every inch of his body tense with anticipation, and he can’t sit still through the twenty minute drive to get back to the house. His fingers are drumming against the steering wheel, his feet tapping against the floor well while he waits for traffic, and if he doesn’t move soon he’s going to explode.

It feels like he’s crashing from drugs he doesn’t remember taking, but he’s been clean for a month, and he’s never let himself get that addicted in the first place. He’s smart about it, despite what Brad thinks. It’s just, sometimes after he gets shot at, he feels fucking invincible. Granted, the shots were wide and missed him by a mile, but he knows how much difference a half-inch can make in these sorts of things.

Ray is jonesing for something, always wanting something more, and he knows without even trying no pills are going to sate this, the good vodka Brad keeps locked away in his office won’t even dent it. He knows what he wants, and he got shot at today, he could have died if things played out any differently, and he’s tired of waiting idly.

There’s no telling when Nate will call next, but if he keeps close to schedule, it won’t be for another week at least. Ray can’t wait that long, not after today, not when he needs to burn off all this energy this badly. Brad will throw a bitchfit when he finds out, but right now Ray doesn’t care. Ray doesn’t care about anything beyond rush of invincibility through his veins and the fact he wants Nate so badly he’s aching for it.

Ray’s made his decision, doesn’t want time to think his way out of it like he’s seen Brad do about things like this. He makes the call, still fifteen minutes out from home and he doesn’t care that he doesn’t have a hotel room lined up, or that this isn’t how they do this, because Ray needs this.

”Ray,” Nate says when he answers the phone, and he sounds confused and wary and a little bit worried. “Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is Brad okay?”

The concern is touching in a good way, spreading something warm through Ray’s system that has nothing to do with his want, but Ray doesn’t have time to dwell on that right now. “I need you,” Ray says, cutting Nate off before he can keep up the questions. “I like seriously fucking need you right now because I’m fucking invincible and - “

”Are you high?” Nate asks, and Ray could laugh. Yes, he’s high, but not off what Nate thinks he is. They’ll argue over how that’s none of Nate’s fucking business later.

”Nate,” Ray says seriously, curling his fingers tight around the steering wheel. “You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me. I just got shot at by some dickwads who think they can sneak in on Godfather’s territory and I’m ready to explode out of my skin here. I need you before that happens, so - ”

”You were shot at?” Nate asks, and that’s definitely worry in his voice, obvious and a little shrill. “Jesus Christ, Ray, what were you doing? Brad said you guys had a job, but he didn’t say anything about you being shot at!”

For a second, Ray is confused, and it takes him a minute to process Nate’s words. “Yes I was fucking shot at, but I’m fine, thanks for asking. Why the fuck are you talking to Brad?”

”Why the fuck were you shot at?” Nate snaps back, and Ray’s too disconnected to read what Nate’s feeling right now. He gets the feeling Nate wants to shake his shoulders and hit him a little bit maybe, kind of like Brad does when Ray does something stupid, but Ray wants the answer to his goddamn question already.

”Why are you talking to Brad?” He asks again. It absolutely isn’t jealousy that sits low in his stomach, twisting and gnawing at him until he feels the urge to throw up. Nate can talk to whoever the fuck he wants for all Ray cares. He just wants to know why he’s talking to Brad and neither of them thought to fucking mention it to him.

”He’s never fucked me without you,” Nate says, exasperated. “We just talk, sometimes. On the phone. Are you going to tell me why you were shot?”

”I was shot at,” Ray corrects. He doesn’t feel any better after Nate’s reassurances, but Nate didn’t sound entirely honest or placating. Ray’s not stupid and he’s definitely not jealous. “Are you going to get the fuck over here so I can fuck you already?”

”What, right now?” Nate asks, startled. For a moment, Ray worries that he’s blown it, ruined this thing, because it’s always been up to Nate to decide that they were going to do this. Ray needs it too badly to care right now though, and Nate must sense that because he just lets out a heavy breath and asks, “Do you have a hotel room?”

This is the part where Ray knows for sure he’s going to get into a fuckton of trouble, but he doesn’t care. Besides, if Brad is talking to Nate willingly and on his own, Ray imagines he trusts Nate a lot more than he says he does. “Don’t have the patience to find one and get a room,” he says, clenching the steering wheel tight before letting go. “Just move your skinny butt and come to the house. You remember how to get there?”

”My butt isn’t - ” Nate starts, but he sighs and gives up. “Is Brad going to be okay with this? Knowing that I -” Nate pauses, like admitting he knows how to get to the house is a secret he was supposed to have forgotten but could never quite make himself let go of. “I’ll be around in half an hour.”

Ray makes a triumphant sound and doesn’t bother hiding it. “Good,” he says, and he feels smugly superior about having wooed Nate over. Or, successfully booty called his ass instead of the other way around. Something like that, Ray doesn’t care to figure out the specifics, he just knows he won. “I’m hanging up now because Brad would kill me if he knew I was talking on the phone and driving. If you don’t show, I’m going to beat your ass.”

”You were going to beat my ass anyways,” Nate comments idly, but he says goodbye and hangs up on Ray. His easy acceptance of Ray demanding sex has to be a good sign, Ray thinks, has to mean Nate trusts them as much as they trust him. Or something. It means that this is something more than just sex, maybe, or that this is just about him.

Ray’s tired of thinking, is tired of doing anything that doesn’t involve his dick in Nate’s mouth or ass. Ray seriously hates everything about DC right now, but especially the traffic, and he’d like nothing more than to just be home already, with Nate, and Brad who is apparently a traitorous, scheming bastard. Ray just wants so bad it hurts and the relief won’t come soon enough.

- - -

Nate’s barely in the front door before Ray pounces on him, shoving him back against the wood and attacking Nate’s mouth with his tongue and teeth. Nate makes a small sound but opens up for Ray easily, lets himself be dominated with nothing more than an obscene moan. He doesn’t complain when Ray drags him forward by his shirt, curling his fingers around Ray’s arm tight enough his nails are digging in, and Ray isn’t sure where he’s taking Nate only that it needs to be flat and he needs to be able to tie Nate up.

The wait for Nate to show up almost killed Ray, and he doesn’t know how he’s managed to drag Nate through the halls of the house without tearing his clothes off, deeper than he’s ever been before, but he should get a fucking reward for it. They manage to make it up the stairs, somehow, and to Ray’s room, which is a fucking mess, but Nate doesn’t comment on it.

He just starts stripping as soon as they’ve crossed the threshold, and Ray doesn’t have the patience to wait for Nate to get naked before he starts biting at Nate’s collarbones, his chest, his nipples. He loves the way Nate cries out, arches forward to feel more of Ray’s teeth. He lets Ray shove him back on the bed as soon as he’s naked, his legs spreading wide instinctively.

Ray doesn’t have the patience to tie him up right now, doesn’t even know where he’s found the ability to strip out of his own clothes. It takes too long to prep Nate, to slick him up and fuck him with his fingers, but this has never been about hurting Nate. Ray couldn’t do that, not even as badly as he needs this right now, but even then Nate only gets the bare minimum of prepping.

When Ray finally pushes into Nate, so tight and hot around him, Ray almost loses it. He’s been aching too long for this, too badly, and he’s trembling before he even bottoms out. Nate’s not much better beneath him, sucking in sharp little breaths, clenching around Ray’s cock. The second Nate gives the okay, Ray pulls out and thrusts back in, fucking Nate hard and fast and desperate.

Later, when Ray has come inside of Nate and flops down on top of him, sweaty and spent, he’ll realize this is the first time he’s fucked Nate without Brad’s presence. Something about it feels odd and he feels guilty. It’s not that he feels like they’ve cheated, just that they’ve left him out. Brad is delicate about these things, about Nate.

Nate’s fingers are gentle where they stroke up and down Ray’s spine though, and he finds it hard to think when Nate’s touch is so soothing and his head is still spinning from his orgasm and the adrenaline. It’s weird, accepting this little bit of comfort from Nate, but Ray’s too lazy to even pull out of him right now, fighting away his gentle fingers seems like more effort than he can spend for the next century.

”I never thought to ask,” Nate murmurs softly, and he almost sounds guilty. “Is Brad okay? He wasn’t hurt, was he?” It makes that ugly feeling in Ray’s stomach to twist again, the thing he refuses to accept as jealousy, but he fights it back. Nate has a right to be worried about Brad. He’s allowed to ask.

”Brad’s fine,” Ray mutters against Nate’s chest. He sighs heavily, licking at Nate’s sweaty skin weakly. “He had to go talk to Encino Man about the job. I got sent home because they don’t like me and I couldn’t sit still.” He’s quiet for a moment, sighing again and looking up at Nate through half-lidded eyes. “He’s okay.”

”Okay,” Nate says softly. His fingers trail up Ray’s spine, to his hair, and he runs them through the messy locks slowly, massaging Ray’s scalp. It makes Ray moan, and he can feel the huff of laughter from Nate under him. “Ray, I need you to move,” Nate whispers.

Instinctively, Ray clutches tighter. He nips at Nate’s chest lightly, and growls. “I’m not moving for at least another ten minutes so you can fucking forget about it. You are a fuck awesome pillow.”

”I’m not saying we can’t do this still,” Nate replies, placating, pressing his fingers harder against Ray’s scalp enough for him to melt on top of Nate. “You’re crushing me, but I’ll live. I just meant you need to pull out now.”

”Don’t want to,” Ray mutters. Nate feels fuck awesome around him, even now, and Ray is too tired to do anything beyond what they’re doing right now. He’s crashing, he’s crashed, and it feels wonderful.

”And normally, I wouldn’t object,” Nate reassures him, “But you didn’t wear a condom, and - “

Fuck, Ray thinks, because he’s usually a lot smarter about these things. He pushes himself up onto an elbow tiredly, looking down at Nate quickly, and he’s surprised that Nate doesn’t look annoyed. He just looks as tired as Ray feels. Ray pulls out though, fumbling for the edge of a sheet so he can wipe them both down. “Sorry,” He adds idly, before flopping back down on top of Nate.

Nate makes an oomph sound when Ray’s weight is crushing down on him again. He pushes Ray away from him, which Ray objects to, but it’s just so they can roll onto their sides. His arm loops around Ray’s waist and he kisses Ray’s jaw lightly. “It’s fine,” he says softly. “Just - not again.”

”You’re pissed,” Ray hums lightly, shifting his weight so he can let himself be cuddled. He would normally object, because the only person who has ever tried to cuddle him before was Brad, and he’s never been a fan, but he can’t bring himself to care.

”Right now, only a little,” Nate admits. It makes Ray feel guilty, but not as much as it probably should, but that probably has something to do with the way Nate isn’t yelling at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ray nods, more than willing to let the subject drop, not talking about things that could upset Nate sounds like a very smart move. Only, as Ray is shifting to make himself more comfortable, drawing Nate in until he’s got one of Nate’s legs over his hips just to be able to press in as close as Ray wants him, something occurs to Ray. “Nate, has anyone ever come in you before?”

Ray can feel Nate’s blush more than he can see it, feels the way Nate’s skin suddenly gets hot to the touch all over. “Be smug about that later,” Nate says, and yeah, Ray is, and he is definitely going to be smug about it later. “Right now we’re fucking cuddling until Brad gets back and we can start round two.”

This assertive side of Nate is seriously kind of fuck hot, and Ray would tell him as much, but he’s tired, and he thinks Nate probably already knows. Besides that, Nate’s plan actually sounds really kind of good right now, and he thinks that maybe if he naps a little, Nate won’t really mind. Nate’s a good boy like that.

- - -

Ray and Nate are sitting on the kitchen floor eating pizza straight from the box, bottles scattered around them, when Brad comes home. They both look up at him, innocent and wide eyed, but Brad doesn’t say a thing. He just shrugs off his coat and grabs a beer from the fridge before he joins them.

It makes Ray wonder exactly what Brad and Nate talk about when he’s not around to listen, but he bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to ask and ruin this lazy feeling between them. The knot in his stomach isn’t bothering him, and maybe it has to deal with Brad being here, with Ray and Nate, and it feels good.

Sucking the pizza grease from his fingers slowly, Ray stretches one leg out and nudges Brad’s thigh lightly with his foot. “Hey. How long are you supposed to wait after you eat before you have sex?”

Brad looks up at him, staring blankly, before quirking an eyebrow slowly. He finishes chewing before he answers, washing his pizza down with a swig of beer. “You’re supposed to wait an hour after you eat before doing anything arduous.”

”I thought that was just for swimming,” Nate says, looking between the two of them. He licks pizza sauce from between his fingers, which is momentarily distracting and he smiles thinly when he notices Ray’s staring. He’s all cleaned up now, skin scrubbed and hair curling a little as it dries, and Ray wants to put his mouth all over him all over again.

Shaking his head, Brad sips at his beer again. “As long as you’re doing it right, sex is still a workout,” he replies easily, then smirks at Nate. “And we will definitely be doing it right.”

Nate flushes slightly, to the tips of his ears, but his face remains otherwise impassive. He quirks an eyebrow when Brad continues to leer, and sucks the grease and pizza sauce from his fingers slowly. “And what are we going to do in the hour it takes for the food to settle so you can show me how definitely right we’re doing this?” He asks, almost sweetly.

”I’m sure we can think of a few things,” Ray says, grinning, and he loves the mischievous smile that crosses Nate’s face. He’s not entirely sure what they’re supposed to do for an hour while they wait for the food to settle in their stomachs, but he’s kind of hoping Brad was kidding about waiting that long. They don’t really do foreplay, not with Nate, and not with each other.

Brad makes an agreeing sound, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Ray is very creative, for sure,” he says, picking off the black olives from his pizza and dropping them back in the box. He wrinkles his nose, but doesn’t ask why they’re there, and Ray notices he doesn’t shoot Nate a dark look like he does when Ray pulls a stunt like that. “He’s got a bucket list of things he wants to do to you.”

”That sounds promising,” Nate says, grinning through the flush to his cheeks. Ray wonders how long it’ll be before Nate stops blushing at every little comment, but he kind of likes it. A lot. Nate looks good with his green eyes bright and his skin flushed a pretty pink. He’ll miss it when it stops happening.

Not that Ray has a right to miss any part of Nate if he chose to walk away at any time. That’s not what this is about. Except, Ray thinks, he’s sitting on his kitchen floor eating dinner with Brad and Nate, and that soft affection is exactly what this is about. Ray wonders if this means he’s screwed, but he can’t be bothered to care.

- - -

By the time they get Nate upstairs and naked, spread out on Brad’s bed this time because it’s bigger, more comfortable, it’s been more than an hour. He tastes like strawberries and Baileys, and Ray is never going to make fun of Brad for buying it again. Not when the only thing either of them wants to do is suck the taste off of Nate’s tongue and top off his glass.

Nate’s skin is flushed, his cheeks a bright red, and it spreads down his chest. He’s gone hyper sensitive to touch, and maybe they gave him too much to drink, but it’s hard to care when he’s begging them to tie him up and use him. Who are they to deny him anything when he asks so nicely and he’s spread open so prettily?

Ray makes sure the handcuffs are tight enough to keep Nate bound, but not enough to hurt until he really tugs, before he leans in to steal another kiss. He sucks on Nate’s tongue slowly, until he moans, and then Brad is pushing apart Nate’s thighs and licking him open and Nate is moaning for another reason entirely. Nate arches up against Ray’s mouth when he starts to nip at Nate’s nipples, sucking and worrying at them lightly.

There’s more than one way to make Nate fall apart beneath them, constantly torn between pushing back against Brad’s tongue and arching up into Ray’s. It must be maddening for him, the slow torture of their pace as they take their time. Ray is determined to lick and bite every inch of his chest and stomach before going back to his nipples. Brad will rim Nate until he comes, if he has to.

Ray doesn’t have to ask to know he’s just as content to keep Nate like this, panting and moaning with every flick of a tongue or pinch of nails. He’s strung-out and needy, pretty and pink, and he comes long before either of them make a move for his cock.

Brad stops rimming Nate, nipping at the crease of his thighs, but he doesn’t stop fingering him. He smirks, smug pride obvious all over his face, and Ray shifts out of the way so Brad can lick the come off of Nate’s stomach slowly.

Nate just whimpers and his stomach clenches visibly under Brad’s mouth. His eyes are half-lidded, breathing ragged, and Ray’s not even the least bit surprised when Nate passes out before Brad even gets the chance to fuck him proper. They share a look, unsure of what to do with Nate, but they can’t exactly send him home like this. They could wake him up, but Nate is warm and in their - Brad’s - bed and isn’t that reason enough to let him sleep?

Ray uncuffs Nate’s wrists slowly and eases them down onto his stomach. Almost as soon as he’s free and Ray has settled in at his side, propped up on one elbow, Nate is rolling onto his side and nuzzling in close. For a second, Ray isn’t sure what to do. This will be the second time he’s cuddled with Nate today, and there isn’t really a standard operating procedure in place for this.

Hesitantly, Ray shoots a look to Brad, more than a little bit nervous with Brad’s eyes watching him intensely, before he lies down and stretches out. He puts one hand on Nate’s hip, stroking the bone with his thumb slowly, and tucking his other arm under his head. It’s not cuddling, not exactly, but when Brad stretches out behind Nate and covers Ray’s hand on Nate’s hip with his own, it might as well be.

- - -

Nate wakes up hungover and a little green, with barely enough time for him to scramble over Ray and stumble into the bathroom before he throws up. Ray watches him go, tipping his head in the direction of Nate’s retching, before he looks back over at Brad. He’s not surprised when Brad is suddenly alert, pushing off of the bed and grabbing his jeans before he follows Nate into the bathroom.

Ray stretches out on the bed, rolling over to claim the warm spot Brad and Nate left behind, sighing happily. He ignores the sound of Nate dry heaving and Brad’s low murmur in favor of nuzzling in close to the pillow, fumbling awkwardly to tug the blanket up to his neck. They argue at some point, not loud enough for Ray to make out the words, and a moment later Brad is dumping Nate on the bed and telling him to stay while he goes to make breakfast.

”How much Baileys did you give me last night?” Nate asks, crawling in closer to Ray and settling in comfortably at his side. He hesitates for a second, and Ray can’t see his face from where he’s laying, but then Nate’s hand is on his hip and his lips against Ray’s shoulder and he’s resting in close.

”It tasted good,” Ray mutters tiredly, stretching lazily and groaning before rolling back against Nate and settling in comfortably. He can hear Nate’s groan, but he ignores it in favor of grabbing Nate’s arm and wrapping it around his middle. He’s warm and comfortable and this is kind of like cuddling with Brad without the vice like grip, and Ray really kind of likes it.

It’s easy to drift off back to sleep with Nate warm against his back, and he’s just glad he’s not the one nursing a hangover like Nate is. That would suck, Ray thinks tiredly, but with the promise of food at some point and nowhere better to be, Ray is all for just sleeping away the morning.

- - -

Things change. Things always change and Ray knows there is supposed to be some sort of poetry in that about growing and learning and loving but he can’t be bothered to care. He would only mock it if he could figure it out anyway. Ray’s never liked the bullshit in poetry.

The point is, Nate does, and suddenly Ray doesn’t just care about what Nate wants and needs. There’s more to this thing between them, like what Nate likes and who he is, and they’re not just fucking anymore. Nate is a constant in their lives, and maybe they only see him once or twice a week and it still ends with him spreading his legs and begging for more, but it’s not just that.

Nate comes over willingly on his own, and he comes when they ask him to, but it’s not just sex. Nate crashes on the couch and plays Halo and Call of Duty with Ray, even though he isn’t particularly good at either of them, and he chills in the garage when Brad does routine maintenance on any of the cars or trucks they’ve got in there. He naps on the couch during bad movies, and he lingers in the kitchen when they cook dinner.

It’s not where Ray expected this would go when they started it, honestly didn’t think all three of them would still be interested in sex with each other after the first few months, but they are. Things are good, even if it’s not what Ray thought would happen, and he knows without asking that Brad and Nate feel the same.

And maybe they’re setting themselves up to fall and for one or all of them to get hurt over this, but it’s hard to care when it feels so good. This recklessness is nothing new for Ray, he’s used to throwing himself headfirst into things and hoping they turn out for the best, but Brad and Nate aren’t like that. They’re both cool and calculated. Ray just hopes if this crashes and burns he doesn’t lose both of them, because it would be his fault for forcing this, and it would seriously fucking suck.

Even with that fear hanging over his head though, Ray can’t be bothered to call this thing to a stop. He likes having Brad and Nate to himself too much to even consider it. Maybe that’s selfish and shallow of him, but it’s been a long time since he’s had anything this good, and he knows the same goes for Brad and probably Nate too, and that alone makes it worth the risk.

At least, Ray hopes so. He’s never been so good at the coming down from a high part, whether emotional or physical or drug induced, and he’s not looking forward to that inevitable end. He’d much rather ride the waves of unadulterated good while he still can.

- - -

”Do you like steak?” Brad asks one morning, crouching down in front of the freezer and rooting through it. At first, Ray’s not sure what the fuck he’s talking about, because who the fuck doesn’t like steak, but then he realizes Nate has wandered into the kitchen and is wiping his eyes tiredly.

”What?” Nate asks, blinking sleepily over at Brad. He’s not wearing his jeans, Ray notices belatedly, and he’s got on the same faded Comic Con shirt Brad was wearing last night over his boxers. The shirts too big and his hair is a mess, and he’s so fucking adorable that Ray just wants to chew on him.

”Steak,” Brad says, looking over at his shoulder at Nate. He makes a face, incredulous or annoyed, but he smiles softly when Nate just stares tiredly at him. “I have some in here that needs to be cooked. Will you eat it if I make it?”

”Oh,” Nate says. He looks at Brad before he blinks sleepily in the direction of the coffee pot. “Isn’t it a little early for steaks?”

Brad laughs, soft and amused, and he pushes away from the freezer. He tosses the frozen steaks into the sink before he makes his way over to Nate, cupping his face in his hands in kissing his forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Brad says softly, and he laughs again when Nate smacks his side lightly. “Drink your damn coffee and wake up already.”

Nate nods when Brad pushes away, watching him move around the kitchen with his head tipped to the side before he glances over at Ray. “It’s too early for him to be in this good of a mood,” He says, and Ray silently agrees. He roots around in the cabinets for a mug though, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and joins Ray at the kitchen table.

Ray can’t help but think I’ve fucked you on this table every time he sees Nate sitting at it, but Nate stopped blushing at the comment ages ago. It doesn’t amaze Ray any less, though, and he wonders if it ever will. “Dude, Brad’s a fucking morning person. I’m not even sure if he’s human.”

”I can hear you, you know,” Brad comments idly from the far side of the kitchen, pausing in pulling stuff from the cabinets to shoot Ray a dark look. He rolls his eyes when Ray waves him off, turning his attention back to the cabinets and shaking his head.

Nate is content to sit in silence, shaking his head when Ray offers to share his Eggos, just sipping at his coffee and watching Brad moves around the kitchen and prep the marinade for his steaks. He still looks warm and sleepy, and he’s not even a little hesitant or embarrassed when he covers one of Ray’s feet with his own.

It’s stupidly domestic, but Ray loves it. He takes another bite of his waffles and washes it down with coffee before prodding Nate in the ribs lightly with a finger. “So, are you going to stick around for dinner or not?”

Nate looks confused for a moment, blinking at Ray over the top of his coffee cup before realization kicks in. He glances at his wrist, blinking in confusion when he notices his watch is gone, before looking at the clock on the wall. “I promised I’d go to lunch with my sister and mom, but I could come back later.”

”That works for me,” Ray says, glancing to where Brad is looking at them, and he’s not surprised when Brad just shrugs a shoulder weakly. “But if this is just you being scared to try Brad’s cooking, I swear he is actually good at it. I won’t tell if you want to run away though.”

Laughing, Nate pinches Ray’s ribs through his shirt. “Shut up, Ray,” he says, shaking his head and sipping at his coffee again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back tonight for sure.” He puts his cup down on the table and stretches widely, groaning, and Ray doesn’t bother to hide the fact he’s staring. “What?”

”We should have sex before you go home,” Ray says, smirking at Nate suggestively. “In the shower. I’ll make sure you’re nice and clean before you go off to have lunch with your family.”

”That’s awfully generous of you,” Nate says wryly, but he doesn’t outright object to the idea. He drums his fingers on the table before glancing over at Brad. “Do you want to join us, Brad?” He asks innocently, smoothing his hand out on the wooden table. “You know, conservation of water and all.”

Brad snorts, shooting Nate a look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “You have been spending way too much time with Ray,” He says, pointing a finger at Nate. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen, the both of you.” He rubs a hand over his face slowly, before adding, “I’ll be up in a minute. Just let me finish here.”

Ray and Nate share a smug, triumphant look with each other before they push themselves away from the table to obey. Ray is hardly going to object to a plan that involves a naked Nate or Brad, and if they’re going to get wet and he gets to put his tongue on them, he’d be stupid to even consider it.

Nate doesn’t object when Ray takes his hand in his own, tugging him from the kitchen and back up the stairs, because of all the bathrooms in the house, Brad’s is the nicest and has the biggest shower. Logically, he knows he should wait for Brad to catch up before he presses Nate back against the tile wall and starts to suck on his tongue, but he can’t resist a naked Nate. He feels no guilt though, because he knows Brad would do the same.

- - -

Ray finds Brad in his room, after they took turns fucking Nate against the shower wall and sent him home. He’s got his laundry basket tugged towards the middle of the room and he’s stripping the sheets from his bed. Brad has this thing about changing his sheets after he’s fucked in his bed, which Ray doesn’t understand, because it means Brad changes them every few days.

To be spiteful, Ray flops down on the bed after Brad’s tugged the sheets away and stripped the mattress bare, and he ignores the tired glare Brad sends him. There’s something gnawing away inside of him. Ray can’t explain the guilt when he asks, “Do you think we’re making a mistake?” And he hopes to God he gets it and he doesn’t have to explain.

For a moment, Brad is quiet, bunching up the white sheets in his hands before he drops them into the blue basket. “I think we’re being reckless and stupid and that we both have a death wish,” Brad says quietly, picking up the clean sheets from the top of his dresser. He doesn’t look at Ray when he shakes out the bottom one, his expression carefully blank. “But I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

The validation is comforting, and the relief of Brad’s agreeing words has Ray biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything stupid and chick flick. “I like Nate,” He says, propping himself up on his elbows and tracing his fingers along the dips in the mattresses surface. He doesn’t know why he says it, because it’s an obvious fact, but Brad nods his head in agreement all the same. “How come you make steak for Nate but not for me?”

”Because it’s a bitch to marinade and cook and takes all day to do so, and by the time it’s done, you eat it in five seconds without tasting it,” Brad snaps, and Ray would be annoyed, but he’s a little surprised that he might have actually hurt Brad’s feelings or something. “Now move your skinny ass so I can make the bed.”

Ray doesn’t move and Brad doesn’t wait for him. He just flips the sheet up, spreading it out, and lets it flutter down on top of Ray. Ray would stay there, too, but when Brad starts tucking the corners in he thinks that Brad might honestly make the bed around him like a dick, so he rolls over and sits on the floor instead. “You know you’re just going to change the sheets again tomorrow.”

Brad just grunts and ignores Ray, continuing to tuck in the corners before he grabs the top sheet and spreads that one out as well.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ray tips his head to the side and stares at Brad will he tucks in the sheet. “You ever think if this keeps up that maybe you should get a bigger bed?” he asks, because as well as Brad and Ray and Nate fit on the bed, it still wasn’t built for three people when two of them are giants.

The comment makes Brad pause, like maybe he hadn’t thought about it, but he looks at the bed thoughtfully. “I like my bed,” he says, a little frown on his face that Ray doesn’t find even a little bit cute at all, no way. “But... A headboard with something easier to handcuff someone to would be nice.”

Ray quirks an eyebrow when Brad continues to stare at the headboard, considering it, before he shakes his head and looks over at Ray. “I’m just saying,” Ray says, more out of the desire to say something than sit in silence. “I think I’m going to take a nap now.”

”Good for you,” Brad says, and he makes no move to stop Ray from pushing himself up onto his feet and leaving the room. He’s looking at his headboard again, like maybe he is honestly considering it now, and Ray smirks to himself when he makes his way to his own room and collapses on top of the covers.

- - -

Ray wakes up to the feeling of soft lips against the back of his neck and warm fingers petting his belly. At first, he’s seriously fucking confused, because Brad doesn’t ever get this touchy-feely even when he is in a cuddling mood. The body behind Ray presses in close though, and it’s not big enough to be Brad.

”Hey,” Nate murmurs, resting his palm flat against Ray’s belly, kissing his shoulder lightly. “Brad said to come wake you up because you’re being a fucking terrible host and that if you’re going to live here against his will you should at least pretend to care about your guests. His words.”

Ray believes it. Brad has said all of those things at one point or another. Only, usually when Brad has people visiting, it’s Godfather or Snafu, and Ray doesn’t need Brad to tell him to get the fuck out for Ray to be gone. He pushes away from Nate long enough to roll onto his back, and he smiles up at Nate. “Thought you had a lunch to go to.”

There’s a thin smile on Ray’s face, like he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be amused or worried. “Ray, it’s almost seven. I’ve been here for over an hour already and Brad’s cooking dinner,” Nate says, and Ray blinks up at him in confusion. “Your sleep schedule is seriously fucked up.”

”Like the kid who just graduated from college gets to talk,” Ray says, wrinkling his nose, and he’s not surprised when Nate mirrors the expression and pinches his side. Ray and Brad have long since learned calling Nate kid will only serve to piss him off, but sometimes they can’t help it. “What were you and Brad doing without me?” Ray asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

”We weren’t having sex,” Nate says, rolling his eyes. He pushes away from Ray and rolls over the edge of the bed, stretching and standing up. “We talked while he worked on dinner. Shared a little wine while we waited for your skinny butt to make its way downstairs.”

Ray groans loudly as he stretches, closing his eyes and arching his back up off the bed to force the sleepiness and lethargy out of his system. He pushes himself up into a sitting position when he’s done, side eying Nate suspiciously. “Blowjobs count as sex.”

”I haven’t blown Brad since last night,” Nate replies, frowning, pursing his lips into a thin line. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped assuming that just because I’m here that I’m spreading my legs every five seconds that you’re not in the room. I’m not a slut and your jealousy is unattractive.”

For a moment, Ray has absolutely has no idea what to say, because he’s not used to Nate snapping at him like. Brad, sure, he’s a dick and he objects to everything that comes out of Ray’s mouth. Nate is sweet and soft-spoken and he only gets snippy when he’s being teased.

”I’m not jealous,” Ray says after a moment, because it’s the only thing he can think to say, even if it’s not entirely true. He rubs the back of his neck and looks away from Nate to glance at the clock on his nightstand. Nate might be right about his sleep schedule, not that Ray plans on admitting it anytime soon.

”Stop moping and get your butt downstairs,” Nate says, rolling his eyes. He offers his hand to Ray, helping to pull him to his feet and up off the bed. Nate smiles indulgently when Ray presses in close, doesn’t object when Ray leans in to kiss him. “Food, Ray. Sex later.”

There’s a quip on the tip of Ray’s tongue about how he remembers when he didn’t have to do anything Nate told him and that sex was always the most important thing, everything else could fucking wait, but - but for some reason, Ray can’t voice it. Not when he really does enjoy the way things have progressed. It’s interesting, and Nate is good and sweet.

”Lead the way, then,” Ray says, swinging their still joined fingers between them and waiting expectantly. He holds Nate’s hand tight when Nate tries to pull away, and Ray’s not entirely sure what the expression on Nate’s face means, but Nate squeezes Ray’s fingers tight in his own before he starts to move, tugging Ray along behind him.

- - -

There’s a permanent blush to Nate’s cheeks that darkens and spreads with the more wine he drinks and his eyes are shining bright green, and the contrast is amazing. His laughter is easy, charming, and he smiles over the top of his wine glass as he swirls the red wine inside of it slowly.

It’s strange, how easy it is to just talk to Nate. To listen to him tell them stories about Walt or his college friends, about classes he took and how he’s registered to take classes at a local community college because he has no idea what the fuck he wants to do with his life and he’d go crazy if he just worked at the diner all day long.

Even weirder is that they’re encouraging him, asking questions and talking back. This isn’t just about the sex they’re going to get out of keeping Nate happy, this is about Nate. Nate, the boy who probably shouldn’t even be here because it’s stupid and dangerous but they keep plying him with more wine until he’s blinking slowly and smiling at everything they say because they don’t want him to go.

Later, after they’re all bloated on wine and steak, potatoes and pie, when they’ve dragged Nate upstairs and kissed every inch of skin they can reach when he’s still dressed, Nate smiles. He raises his arms sluggishly, swaying on his feet when Brad tugs his shirt off, and he lets Ray guide him back onto the bed but tugs Ray down with him. Pressing his lips against Ray’s jaw, Nate whispers loudly. “If you want me to spend the night you don’t have to get me drunk.”

Smiling, Ray nips at Nate’s jaw lightly and cups Nate’s dick through his jeans. He’s not hard, but Ray’s not surprised after all the alcohol that they poured into his system. Ray’s not even sure if he could get it up. He still holds that wine is for pussies and it’s even worse than Baileys, but somehow there’s an entire bottle between the three of them. “Still gotta earn your keep.”

Nate makes a sound, small and sad, pressing his hips up against Ray’s hand. He rocks up against him lazily for a minute to no effect, before he makes a frustrated sound and reaches to undo his jeans. “Don’t think we can fuck tonight,” He murmurs, fumbling with the button and whining softly. “’m sorry.”

Brad moves in though, rescuing Nate from Ray’s grabby hands and undoing Nate’s jeans easily. He tugs lightly, smiling softly when Nate arches up his hips to help Brad tug them down, and they end up tossed on the floor behind Brad. “Don’t apologize,” He says softly, patting Nate’s hip lightly. “Just get under the covers and go to bed.”

Humming lightly, Nate rolls onto his stomach and crawls up the bed slowly. If he notices the way Brad and Ray are both watching him, the swish of his hips as he moves, he doesn’t say anything, and he settles in comfortably in the middle of the bed. “I have a question,” He asks, stretching widely before blinking down at them sleepily.

”I might have an answer,” Ray replies, and he smirks when Brad shoots him a dark look. He sits up long enough to tug off his own shirt and kick off his jeans, and Nate smiles happily when Ray crawls his way up the bed towards him. “What did you want to know?”

Nate squirms, making room for Ray on his pillow, and smiles sleepily at him. Pressing a finger to Ray’s lips, he watches Ray through half-lidded eyes and asks, “Do you think you two could fuck me at the same time?”

For a moment, Ray has no idea what Nate is talking about. They fuck Nate at the same time all the time, taking turns to use him or having him go down on one of them while the other owns his ass. He hears Brad curse though, the sharp inhale and Ray thinks Oh. Now this is a seriously unfair time for Nate to ask a question like that.

Licking his lips, the tip of Nate’s finger, Ray nods. “Yeah, we could probably try that sometime,” he says. There’s no way he could forget an offer like that either, even with the haze in his system, and he just hopes Nate actually wants to feel Brad and Ray inside of him at the same time and he isn’t just asking out of idle curiosity. “Not tonight.”

”Not tonight,” Nate agrees, tugging at Ray’s hip until Ray scoots in closer and they’re tucked into each other. He stares pointedly at Brad until Brad peels off his clothes and joins them. Nate sighs happily when Brad tugs the blanket up over them proper. “Soon.”

”Soon,” Brad promises, kissing Nate’s shoulder. He lays there propped up on one elbow behind Nate, his fingers skimming along Nate’s hip, just watching. It’s comforting, maybe, or something. It’s hard to pinpoint the feeling exactly, but Ray thinks maybe Brad didn’t have as much to drink as they did. He knows Brad is just keeping an eye on them both, out of protectiveness or wariness or maybe both, but that’s nice, too.

“Go to sleep,” Brad adds, quieter, and Ray can’t think of any reason to object. Judging by the way Nate’s eyes slip shut and he nuzzles in close, Ray gets the feeling he agrees. Brad smiles softly when Ray looks up at him, and it’s enough for Ray to relax back into the pillows and close his eyes as well.

- - -

Ray wakes up with the need to piss. He has no idea what time it is, only that it’s still dark as fuck outside, and he rolls out of bed without thinking about it to stumble towards the bathroom in the dark.

He’s only out of the warm comfort of Nate’s arms for a few moments, but by the time Ray has washed his hands and crawled back into bed, Nate has rolled over to curl into Brad’s side, his head on Brad’s shoulder. For a second, Ray is a mixture of irritated and jealous, because how is he supposed to stay warm when Nate’s got an arm slung around Brad’s waist and is snoring softly?

But Ray is tired, and Nate is still here, so he just wiggles under the covers and presses himself up against Nate’s back, kissing his shoulder softly before closing his eyes. The heat radiating off of Nate is wonderful, and Ray will have to thank Brad for keeping his Nate warm, but it can wait for later. Now, Ray just wants to sleep.

- - -

Nate likes to stop by when he’s done with his classes for the day, kicking back at the kitchen table to do his homework while Brad gets dinner ready and listens to Ray rant. He watches them with fond amusement, and sometimes Ray wonders where the wariness in his eyes went, but he never asks because he likes this more.

Ray actually really kind of likes that Nate is comfortable enough with them to just hang out while he does his homework, staying for dinner and sex. He likes that Nate doesn’t mind staying the night and he likes that sleepy smile on Nate’s face when he first wakes up in the morning to find Brad and Ray are still there. Like isn’t really the right word for it, maybe, but it’s the closest Ray can get to admitting what he means.

It’s fine, it’s normal. Brad and Ray don’t ask questions about it and they’re hardly going to complain. They have no objections to Nate sticking around, not really. They like having him here, where they can keep an eye on him and keep him happy. It works for them.

The thought that maybe the three of them have become a little too domestic doesn’t even occur to Ray, not even when Nate shows up on their doorstep after class looking like death warmed over. Nate is pale, except for the flush to his cheeks, and Ray doesn’t have to touch him to know how clammy his skin is right now.

”Jesus fucking Christ,” Ray says, and he’s reaching for Nate to drag him into the house before he even thinks about it. He ignores Nate’s feeble objections and the way his bag falls to the floor, dragging him through the house until he can shove him onto the couch in the living room. “What the fuck were you thinking leaving the house today? Don’t tell me you went to class?”

”Had to go to class,” Nate protests, collapsing back onto the couch and melting into the cushions. He lets his head loll on the back cushions for a moment, content to just be until Ray drops down and starts to tug off his shoes. “Wha - Ray, stop.”

Ray doesn’t know what he’s doing right now, not really. He just knows that Nate looks like he should be in the hospital right now instead of on their couch and that his heart is thudding in his chest so hard it hurts. He’s worried and scared and it doesn’t make any sense, because this is Nate, Ray shouldn’t care so much about something less than a bullet wound but he does. He does and that terrifies him.

He tosses Nate’s shoes into the middle of the room, tugging his socks down and doing the same before Ray stops. He presses his forehead to Nate’s knee for a second, trying to bite back that nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, before he looks up at Nate again. “Just. Sit here for a second. I’m going to find Brad and some Nyquil and you’re skinny ass is going to bed, do you hear me?”

”I’m fine,” Nate objects, but he can’t push himself up off of the couch without a ton of effort and a soft whine, and Ray is there to catch him before he takes his first step. Grabbing Ray’s shoulders, Nate presses his forehead against Ray’s. “’m sorry I stopped by. I’ll go home if you don’t want me here.”

”You’re an idiot,” Ray tells Nate, and he tries not to squirm at the press of Nate’s skin against his own. Nate is burning up. He shouldn’t be doing anything but sleeping. He could be dying or something, right here, practically in Ray’s arms, and he wants to leave? “Just - sit here for five minutes. I’ll handcuff you to the couch if I have to.”

Nate doesn’t say anything when Ray shoves him back onto the couch, but he whines softly and looks up at Ray through wide green eyes. They’re bright and shining from his fever, and Ray’s stomach twists into knots just looking at him. Nate doesn’t try to get up again though, just watching Ray through half-lidded eyes from his spot on the couch.

Ray knows where Brad is, knows where Brad has been all day because he’s been in a mood recently, and he’s not even remotely surprised to find Brad on his back under the Jeep. The thing has to have had more oil changes in a year than is even healthy, but Brad finds it therapeutic or something and Ray can’t be bothered to object.

Instead, he just grabs Brad’s ankle and tugs him out from under the Jeep and ignores Brad’s angry snapping. “Dude, homes, Nate is like seriously fucking sick and dying on our couch, and I don’t even know what I’m doing, how much Nyquil is he supposed to take when he looks ready to die and I - “

Brad is on his feet in an instant, cupping Ray’s face in his greasy hands and forcing Ray to look up at him. “Hey, shut up and calm down,” Brad says, sweeping his thumbs over Ray’s cheekbones. “What’s wrong with Nate?”

”He’s burning up,” Ray says meekly, and it’s weird how soothing the gentle touch from Brad is, despite the worry twisting away in his stomach. “We should take him to the hospital or call Doc or - or something.”

Brad presses a quick kiss to Ray’s forehead and lets go of his face. He wipes his hands on his jeans, ignoring the smear of grease and oil, turning on his heels and moving through the house. There’s nothing for Ray to do but trail behind Brad awkwardly, digging his nails into his own skin to keep from falling apart or screaming.

Ray doesn’t have any coping mechanisms for dealing with sick or hurt people. Seeing Nate like this kills him almost as much as washing Brad’s blood off his hands after a bullet skimmed his shoulder. He doesn’t know how to deal with the people he cares about being hurt or dying or worse. Ray’s never had to learn before, and now, it’s too much, too soon, and he wants to explode.

Nate has fallen asleep on the couch by the time they make it to the living room, curled on his side with his knees drawn up to his chest. His breath is ragged as he breathes through his mouth, and the sight of his ashen skin is enough to make Ray want to puke or run away, or both.

Brad crouches down in front of Nate quietly, brushing Nate’s hair from his face and checking his temperature. His expression is closed off, and it only makes Ray worry worse, the tension in his stomach enough to almost physically hurt. “I’m going to call Doc,” Brad says softly, looking over his shoulder at Ray. “Get over here and keep an eye on him.”

Ray doesn’t budge. If Brad is calling Doc than maybe there really is something wrong with Nate. What if it’s contagious, and they both get sick as well and then they die? Does someone know that they’ve let Nate in, did they do something to him to get to them? Or did he just get salmonella or something from the mouth breathers he’s too smart to be going to school with?

”Ray,” Brad says, firmer, and it snaps Ray out of his reverie. He looks up at Brad with wide eyes, and he’s a little surprised when Brad crooks his finger and gestures for Ray to come closer. Ray obeys, because it’s easier than fighting it, and Brad catches Ray’s wrist when Ray is close enough. “It’s going to be okay.”

Ray lets Brad tug his wrist, pulling him down onto the floor at Brad’s side, and Ray leans against the couch heavily. He touches his fingers to Nate’s hair, lightly, before brushing the sweaty strands out of Nate’s face and petting him lightly. “No it’s not,” he says weakly, closing his eyes and biting his lip. “It’s not, Brad, this isn’t - “

”Nate is going to be fine,” Brad says, squeezing Ray’s shoulder tightly. He holds up a hand when Ray opens his mouth to object, silencing him with a look. “Ray, listen to me. He has a fever. It’s probably just the flu. It’s that time of year. People get sick. Nate is going to be fine. Stop worrying.”

”You’re not listening to me,” Ray says, shaking his head. He pulls his hand away from Nate and twists out of Brad’s grip. He sits back, knees drawn up to his chest, and he’s so frustrated he could probably cry. Brad would never let him live it down though, so Ray wipes at his eyes in agitation before making an annoyed sound. “Brad, I think I love him.”

Brad is quiet, but he doesn’t look surprised or angry. Just tired, maybe, and a little bit defeated. He rubs a hand over his face slowly, watching Nate sleep quietly, his expression a blank mask.

That’s it, Ray thinks hysterically. He’s fucked this up. He’s gone and done something he was never supposed to do, something he never thought he would ever fucking do, and now he’s going to lose everything. It’s not going to work, Ray can’t love Nate, can’t love Brad, because it makes things complicated and dangerous. They have always had a relationship built off of sex, Ray wanting, needing more than that throws off the delicate balance.

If there’s one thing Ray has always been good at, it’s ruining things. It’s so typical of him to have ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him, even if it really was inevitable, but it still kills him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do now, because he can’t really stay here if he can’t have Nate - and Brad - like he wants them. Like he’s not supposed to want them.

”Brad, I - “ Ray starts, but Brad cuts him off with a look and a shake of his head. Ray has no idea what’s going on in Brad’s head right now, but he looks every bit as scared and broken as Ray feels right now. “Brad.”

”I know,” Brad says quietly, looking away from Ray. He touches his finger tips to Nate’s knuckles, waits for Nate’s hand to relax just a little before he covers it with his own and squeezes lightly. “I know, Ray,” Brad says again, and, “Me too.”

There’s a lump in the back of Ray’s throat that has absolutely no right being there and his eyes absolutely are not burning. He blinks away the wetness before crawling in close again, leaning heavily against Brad’s side and closing his eyes. He doesn’t look when he reaches for Nate, petting his hair, but he doesn’t need to. “What the fuck are we supposed to do?” He asks quietly.

At first, Brad doesn’t say anything. He tips his head to kiss Ray’s temple, slow and soft, before he sighs heavily. “I’m going to call Doc and ask if he knows what to do when sick college kids pass out on your couch. You’re going to sit here and keep Nate company.”

Ray shakes his head, pulling away from Brad slightly to look up at him. “That’s not what I meant at all and you know it - “ He starts, but Brad silences him by leaning in and kissing him proper. Ray blinks at him, before putting a hand to Brad’s chest and pushing him away. “Brad, seriously,” Ray says, and he can feel the hysteria bubbling up inside of him.

”Nate’s going to be fine,” Brad says. He squeezes Nate’s hand again before he lets it go, pushing himself to his feet slowly and stretching slightly when he stands. He touches the top of Ray’s head, carding his fingers through Ray’s hair until Ray looks up at him. “It’s going to be okay, Ray. We’ll figure this out.”

It’s embarrassing how much Ray needs to believe those words. There’s still waves of doubt and fear crashing around in his stomach, but it helps that he’s not alone in this. Brad has gone and fucked up just as badly as he has, and maybe Brad doesn’t believe his own words any more than Ray does, but it’s a start. Ray thinks it might honestly kill him right now if Nate woke up and said he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t want this, but they have time for that.

Right now, the only thing that matters is making sure Nate is okay. He never has to know the truth, if Brad and Ray decide he doesn’t need to know, that the risk of losing him isn’t worth it. It’ll suck, but at least they’ll still have Nate, and that’s better than nothing. It has to be better than nothing.

”Okay,” Ray says quietly, nodding. He waits until Brad nods at him in return before he scoots closer to the couch, pressing his cheek against the cushion and looking at Nate. He still feels sick at the sight of Nate like this, but it doesn’t matter, because Nate is going to be okay. Maybe he’s helpless to do anything about it, but Brad is calling Doc, and maybe Doc will yell at them for letting Nate get this bad, but he’ll know what to do.

Nate is going to be okay, and that’s enough for Ray and Brad to be okay, too.

← | Index | →