the night starts here (5/?), will/skandar/anna, nc-17
Why did I not write bottom!Skandar sooner?!
Title: the night starts here (5/?)
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar/Anna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash and het. Real people.
Summary: It would be easier, maybe, if the main thing was the jealousy. But it's not. The jealousy is definitely there -- he has to admit that, as much as he hates to -- but it's mixed up with so many other things that it seems hardly relevant.
A/N: This is a bit longer than usual.
[ Part 1. ¦ Part 2. ¦ Part 3. ¦ Part 4. ¦ Part 5. ¦ Part 6. ¦ Part 7a & Part 7b. ¦ Part 8a & Part 8b. ¦ TBC]
Will doesn't hear from Skandar or Anna for three days. He sends a brief and silly text to Anna's phone when he gets back home from Skandar's house, but it gets no response, and after that he's too busy to get in touch, all his time taken up by organising his move.
It's the day before moving day when Ben turns up, uninvited, at his flat, with a cheerful grin on his face and an armful of empty boxes.
"Thought you'd be at that last minute panic stage," he says, handing Will the boxes. "I came by to help."
"How did you know I was moving tomorrow?" Will asks, completely confused. It doesn't really matter that they haven't said hello -- the two of them have never really bothered with greetings.
"You told me on the phone a few days ago," Ben says, chuckling as he wanders in. "Oh, that's pretty good, it looks like you've packed up nearly everything!"
"Um," says Will, shutting the door and turning around. He doesn't really remember telling Ben, but then again, the conversation was quite hurried and he was pretty distracted at the time. "Yeah. It's just -- it's just the bedroom and the bathroom, really. And food."
Ben nods, then points towards the hallway leading to Will's bedroom, giving Will a questioning look.
"Yeah," Will says, "yeah. Okay. Let's get started then!"
* * *
As unexpected as Ben's arrival was, Will is actually quite thankful for it. He'd been putting off doing the bedroom for a while because there's so much stuff in there, and he just knew it was going to be hell to pack everything up. But Ben is surprisingly organised, and after only about half an hour, all of Will's clothes (save for an outfit to wear tomorrow, of course) are packed neatly into labelled boxes.
"What's next?" says Ben, rubbing his hands together and surveying the room. "Drawers under the bed?"
Just then, the phone rings, and Will turns, immediately thinking of Skandar and Anna and hoping it's one of them. "What?" he says. "Yeah, I'll just -- I'll be back in a moment."
It's Skandar on the phone, sounding a little quiet and tired, but Will doesn't dwell on his tone of voice because he's offering to come round to the new flat tomorrow and help him unpack.
"Thank you so much, Skan," Will says. "I really appreciate it."
He waits for Skandar to make some dirty joke about how he can pay back the favour, but he doesn't, and then suddenly Ben is calling him.
"Who's that?" Skandar asks suspiciously.
"Oh, it's Ben," says Will. "He just dropped by to help me pack."
"Dropped by?" Skandar repeats. "Dropped by your flat, or dropped by Gloucestershire?"
He has a point, Will realises, but Ben is yelling his name again.
"Listen, I'll text you when I know what the plan is tomorrow, okay? I've got to go."
Skandar sounds a bit huffy with him when he says goodbye, but that's to be expected, Will supposes. He goes back to the bedroom, wondering what Ben needs him for.
"Will, what's this?"
Will stops dead. Ben is holding Anna's strap-on in his hands, the box it came in lying open on the bed in front of him. He's grinning -- he clearly knows what it is, of course -- and Will just stares, lost for words.
"Will, mate, you're gay," Ben says, still grinning. "What use have you got for this?"
"I'm not gay," says Will, wondering why exactly he's stating facts about his sexual preference instead of yelling at Ben for invading his privacy.
Ben raises his eyebrows disbelievingly. "That's not what it seemed like when I was fucking you."
Will crosses his arms, a little taken aback. Neither of them have mentioned that night since it happened. "Why are you bringing that up now?"
Ben shrugs. "Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? We've been getting on," he says. "Thought that by now the memory would be a little less -- painful."
"Ben--" starts Will angrily, but he's interrupted almost immediately.
"Hey, hey," says Ben, holding up his hands. "I'm not trying to start an argument. I'm just thinking about the fact that you're making some poor, bewildered young girl strap this on, when we all know how much you love the real thing."
Will is speechless. What can he say? How can he explain? He can't exactly tell the truth. He's thought about it a lot -- moreso now that Anna has told Tilda -- and even though he's sure that some people would be very understanding, there are certainly some people who wouldn't. It's not just that, either, it's the fact that at the moment, he's very much in the public eye, and until he can at least imagine what the general reaction to this would be, he's not going to entertain the idea of the three of them going public with their relationship.
Not that Ben's likely to run out and start giving tell-all interviews to all the tabloids, but at the moment, Will doesn't want to take any chances with who he can trust. He knows Ben isn't that great at keeping secrets, and he also knows how quickly gossip spreads.
So where does that leave him now? What explanation can he give?
It seems like Ben is willing to help him out.
"Will," he's saying, his voice softening as he puts down the strap-on. "Has a girl used this on you?"
That, he can answer. "Yes."
"Did you...imagine that she was a guy?"
Will hesitates. Of course he didn't, but it doesn't seem like Ben is going to believe him if he tells him so.
"I'm sorry," Ben says, "it's just that -- well, I know you were a bit hesitant when we slept together, and then after that night you acted like it never happened, so I thought -- this just seems like another hint that you might be having problems accepting your sexuality. And I want you to know that you can talk to me about it."
Will still says nothing. He's fuming on the inside, though. How dare Ben make these assumptions about him? They had one drunken night together, and now Ben thinks he knows his entire sexual history?
"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Will," Ben continues, gently. "But it's not fair on other people if you spend your life pretending to be somebody you're not. Did you buy this so that you could pretend your girlfriend--"
Will shuts his eyes, dips his head a little bit. It looks like a nod.
"Come here, Will," he hears Ben saying. "It's okay."
Trying to calm his anger, he crosses the room and joins Ben on the bed, lets Ben wrap his arms around him even though all he wants to do is punch him in the face.
"Do you -- do you pretend that she's a certain guy in particular?" Ben asks, resting his chin on Will's shoulder, speaking so quietly that he's almost whispering.
Will grits his teeth. It's too late now. He should've denied it in the beginning, explained to Ben that just because they slept together it doesn't mean he isn't attracted to girls, and just because he wants a girl to use a strap-on doesn't mean he likes to pretend that she's a man. He wonders if there's any way he can explain things now.
"It's okay, you know," Ben is saying, gently, rubbing Will's back. "I still think about it too."
It takes Will a minute to realise what he means, and when he does, he pulls back. "What?" he says incredulously, but Ben doesn't even seem to hear him.
"That night doesn't have to be our last, if you don't want it to be," Ben says, looking him straight in the eye, a slight smile across his face.
Will is speechless, which really isn't good because Ben is leaning in, arms around him again, and Will panics, jerking back and finding his voice at the very last minute.
"Ben, no," is all he says, and it's not enough.
"It's okay, Will," Ben says encouragingly. "If you want to do this, that's okay."
"But I don't," Will spits out, frowning at him. "I think you should leave."
Ben looks down at the bed, eyebrows knotted. "I think you've got a lot of stuff you need to work through, Will," he says after a moment, and Will clenches his fists angrily. "And I'm here for you, I want you to know that."
Will continues to say nothing, because he's not sure he trusts himself, and Ben slowly slides off the bed and walks towards the door.
"You can call me anytime, I won't call you. It's up to you," he says. "I'll let myself out."
Will waits until he hears the front door close and then he throws himself back on the bed and shuts his eyes tightly.
He has the feeling that this isn't over.
* * *
It is very much put on hold, though, as Ben stays true to his word and sort of disappears from the picture in amongst the stress of arguments with removals men and unpacking what seems like hundreds of boxes. He has about half of his furniture in the new flat, and has unpacked some of the more vital things, but the task is extremely daunting and after about an hour and a half, he's starting to wish he hadn't decided to do this after all.
He abandons a box of crockery and cutlery in favour of a box of bedsheets, then swaps the massive job of unpacking all of his clothes for the smaller one of sorting out his books. He has only managed to unpack about six, however, when Skandar arrives.
Skandar doesn't greet him with an offer of help, though. He greets him with the words "I had sex with Anna."
His gaze shifts from side to side as he pulls at the sleeve of his jumper. "Don't make a big deal out of it or anything," he adds, standing small and fidgety in the doorway and regarding Will with a worried expression.
"That's--" says Will, but hasn't actually got anything planned to come next. His brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate, and he realises he has to go on his feelings. When he feels himself starting to smile, the words come easily. "That's great."
Skandar sort of bobs his head, shrugging, embarrassed.
"Did you think I'd be cross?" Will asks.
"I dunno, not really cross," Skandar replies, frowning. "I just thought -- well, you've never been on your own with her, have you?"
Something inside Will sinks, and he shakes his head. It's strange, really, that he hasn't thought about that until this very moment. He knew from the beginning that he wanted to sleep with both of them, and that it didn't matter if it was separately or together. And maybe it's not even that they've been together without him, it's just the fact that Skandar's done that before he has, and it just seems wrong.
He's had feelings for Anna for -- oh, years, practically since he first met her, and Skandar seems to only have developed them in the past month or so. And, okay, he knows this shouldn't matter, because it's not as though Skandar has fucked her and he hasn't, but even so, the idea of Skandar sharing something with her before he has a chance to bothers him.
"It's not a big thing," Skandar says, gesturing vaguely, and Will glances up at him. "It just sort of happened. That's okay, right? I mean -- you'll probably have loads of time with her when I'm off filming."
Will nods slowly. It's been brought up again -- Dawn Treader -- and he knows immediately that it's not going to be discussed any further. Even if he tried -- which he doesn't really want to -- it still wouldn't.
"Yeah, it's fine," he says eventually, hoping Skandar isn't picking up on his discomfort. And he probably isn't, because he isn't very good at that sort of thing, so Will doesn't think he needs to worry. "I'm kind of surprised, but it's good, it's a good thing."
Skandar grins, nodding, clearly relieved.
And then, before he can stop himself, Will blurts out, "How was it?"
Skandar laughs, eyes a little wide, which makes Will angry for some reason, but he laughs along with him anyway.
"It was good," Skandar grins. "Really good."
Will wants to say, better than the first time? but luckily Skandar keeps talking.
"It was...hot. I mean, not the sex -- well, yeah, the sex, but the weather. It was -- it was the day you left, and, you know it was really hot?"
Will laughs. "You're babbling."
He wants to ask more questions, but none of them seem appropriate, because they're all things like what position? and did she come? and the worst one, did you talk about me?
This insecurity, this jealousy, seems to have come out of nowhere and it's caught him completely off-guard. He always expected difficulties, but he never thought they'd come from him. The idea of Skandar and Anna together just excited him so much that he never imagined he could have a problem with it, but then again, there's a big difference between being there with them as they fumble through their first time together with his help, and the two of them fucking on Skandar's bed during a heatwave while Will is miles away.
It's the not-knowing that bothers him the most, he thinks. Not knowing what it was like. It's fine for Skandar to say that it was good, but sex is usually good, especially (he imagines) where Anna is concerned. But he wants details. And he wants to know that it wasn't perfect, that they were clumsy and a little uncomfortable and Anna didn't come and maybe it was awkward afterwards. And he hates himself for thinking that, because he should want them to be happy, but what it all comes down to is that he doesn't want them to be happy without him.
It's strange, because he never thought this would happen. The problems, he thought, would be between Skandar and Anna, their jealousy of each other. Maybe that's why this is such a shock -- he never even considered that they could get so comfortable with each other to fuck each other without him there.
In the end, his mobile rings, interrupting their discussion.
It's Anna.
"My audition got moved," she says brightly. "It's the day after tomorrow now. I can come and help you unpack things if you want?"
Will grins, so happy to be hearing from her that he almost forgets about everything else. "Of course!" he says. "Skandar's already here, but I'll take all the help I can get."
He can't help feeling that once it's the three of them together again, they aren't going to get a lot of work done. After all, whatever problems he might be having with the situation at the moment, they are always easily distracted by each other, and the possibility of sex is always present, and tempting.
This is probably the reason why he and Skandar only manage to unpack one and a half boxes before they abandon the project entirely and end up sprawled out on the sofa, half-naked and kissing each other as though it's been closer to four months than four days.
Skandar's got his trousers and boxers off already, and his t-shirt pushed up practically to his neck. And when Will stops kissing him and looks at him, the image of Anna still floats in his mind and he can't stop himself from trying one more time.
"How did you and Anna -- you know," he says, and then clears his throat, feeling a little stupid. When he tries again, his voice comes out lower than normal. "How did you and Anna fuck?"
Skandar smirks at him, squirms on the sofa beneath him. "Did you never do sex education at school, Will?"
Will tightens his grip on the base of Skandar's cock, holds still. "Come on," he says. "How?"
Skandar doesn't say anything for a moment, but bucks his hips up a little, and Will gives in, slicks his hand up the length of Skandar's cock and then back down again, watching the muscles in his stomach tense up.
"She was -- she was on top," Skandar gasps out, grabbing at the sofa cushion, and Will bites his lip, hard.
It's worse this way, that it's something he and Anna have never done. It's just a position and it can't be that different and it shouldn't be a big deal, and most of all he should stop the questions now so as not to torture himself, but he seems to have misplaced his common sense.
"Did she--" he starts, and then stops again, feeling himself starting to blush and being thankful that Skandar has his eyes closed. He doesn't want to say these things out loud. He should be able to, because it's Skandar, but then again, that's part of the reason it makes him nervous -- Skandar's the type to laugh.
"Mm?" Skandar says, opening his eyes again, looking at Will questioningly. "Did she what?"
"Did she ride you?"
Skandar doesn't laugh, and Will breathes a quiet sigh of relief at this. He twists his wrist, hand gliding smooth and quick over Skandar's cock now, urging him to answer.
"Y-yeah," Skandar breathes out, and Will leans down, covers him with his body.
He kisses his neck, hard, sucking at the skin, and whispers, "Tell me about it."
"What?" Skandar says. "N-no way."
Will slows his hand down, nips at Skandar's shoulder. "Why not?"
Skandar doesn't say anything but Will knows him well enough to know that the reason is embarrassment.
"Go on," says Will, steadying himself with one hand and reaching down to unbutton his trousers with the other. He pushes them down enough so that they're out of the way, and pulls his erection through the slit in his boxers.
He lowers down, presses it against Skandar's, lets him feel it for a moment.
"Go on," he says again, then, rocking slowly forwards, sucking in a sharp breath as their slick cocks slide against each other.
Skandar squirms again, and the heat from his face tells Will that he's blushing. "I don't -- I don't know what to say," he says, hoarsely. "This is stupid, Will, can't we -- can't we just get off?"
No, Will thinks, frustrated. No. He's got to know more than he does now, and he knows Skandar can give him that information.
"Why can't you tell me?" he murmurs, and it's strange really, that they're arguing like this, here and now, with their cocks hard against each other and being ignored.
"I don't know what you want me to say," Skandar says after a moment, wriggling underneath him, but Will holds him down, keeps him still. "It was just sex."
Will feels a surge of anger at the words. Just sex. "Did she -- did she suck you off?" He feels Skandar nod. "Tell me."
"She -- yeah. She sucked me. She -- she had my whole -- Will, please," Skandar says stutteringly, hips twisting.
The please means please keep moving and Will obliges, shifting slowly against him. The heads of their cocks touch, and Skandar's body jerks. They're slick against each other, hot and smooth, and Will wants to reach down but -- not yet. Not yet.
"Go on," he says, desperate.
"She had my whole cock in her mouth," Skandar blurts out, writhing beneath him, rutting against him. "And it was -- oh my god, I nearly came, she's so -- she's so fucking good, Will."
Will hates the way that he says it, like he's telling him something he doesn't know. That's something he's done with Anna, and Skandar bloody well knows it, watched it happen.
"I know," he says, letting himself remember, then, the feeling of Anna's lips, the feeling of his cock sliding down her throat. And then he remembers that she was looking at Skandar while she did it, and he was smoothing her hair out of her face for her, and he tenses up, angry once again. "And then you fucked?"
He pulls up, wriggling out of his boxers and his jeans, kicking them aside onto the floor. He steadies himself again, lifting up, wanting to see Skandar's face. Skandar presses his lips tightly together, groans as their cocks align once again. "N-no."
"Your fingers?" Will hears himself asking, and it's not a full sentence, it doesn't even make sense, but Skandar understands him, nodding, eyes closed as he pushes up, trying to get their rhythm back. "Mouth?"
He shakes his head and Will's glad. Not glad, specifically, that there's something he's done with Anna that Skandar hasn't, but that there's something left for them to do that he can be there for. Skandar still doesn't know how she tastes, and when he finds out, Will is going to be there.
"How many fingers?" Will asks, too turned on to even consider the question, now, and Skandar clutches at Will's hips, pressing up off the sofa against him.
"Two," he says breathlessly. "She asked for two."
She asked for two. Will imagines it, sees Anna lying naked and sweaty on Skandar's bed, Skandar's hand between her legs, hears her begging him. The image brings the usual excitement, makes him thrust faster and more erratically against Skandar, but it brings with it a new burst of jealousy, and he grits his teeth.
Skandar's legs part a little, and Will moves even faster, his cock slipping down between Skandar's thighs in his haste. Skandar gasps loudly, swears, fingernails digging into Will's hips, and Will tries to right himself but can't, it feels too good.
"And then -- and then we fucked," Skandar says suddenly. "She was -- she was on top of me, and her, oh fuck, Will, her tits--"
He doesn't even need to say anything else. Will can see it.
"Fuck, Will," Skandar chokes out, clearly bringing back the mental image into his mind. His hand flies down between his legs, grasping his cock tightly, and his body jerks suddenly and violently against Will's as he splutters and comes hard.
Will can't even watch him, he just closes his eyes and imagines what Skandar has described to him. He imagines Anna riding Skandar's cock, her tits bouncing, her hair damp with sweat and swaying with every movement -- and maybe she leaned forwards, steadying her hands on the bed, her heavy breasts brushing his chest as she pressed kisses to his jaw and neck, open-mouthed and hot and -- and maybe he lifted his hips up, thrust up into her, making her groan against his skin --
He's vaguely aware of Skandar's hands, hot and smooth and soothing as they rub his back encouragingly, and Skandar's low voice in his ears, "Come on, come on," and the wetness of Skandar's come against his stomach as his cock slides clumsily across and between Skandar's thighs. He's so close -- so close --
"She was touching herself," Skandar hisses suddenly, the words coming quickly from his mouth as if by mistake, and Will gasps, hips moving faster, desperate. "Touching her clit while I fucked her. And she made these noises -- come on. Come on, Will."
And he does, head falling against Skandar's shoulder as all the energy seems to leave his body, and he groans out loud against Skandar's slick skin, coming uncontrollably.
They're still lying there, sticky and motionless against each other, when the door buzzes.
"Fuck," says Will as he attempts to get up. It's disgusting down between their legs, and probably even more disgusting on his sofa (which is a shame, because it's new) but somehow he just can't bring himself to move. "Fuuu--uuck."
"You're closer," Skandar grumbles. "Go on."
Will finally manages to detach himself from Skandar's body, and falls onto the floor as the door buzzes a second time. Skandar dissolves into hysterical laughter and Will picks himself back up, stumbling across the room and into the hallway.
"I don't even know how to work this thing!" he yells back to Skandar, peering at the intercom by the door, but he gets no response. He presses four buttons before something actually seems to happen, and then he hears a sort of static, and says tentatively, "Hello?"
"It's me!" comes Anna's voice, and he grins, pressing another five buttons before she seems to be able to actually open the door.
He waits, naked and exhausted, slumped against the wall, for her to reach his floor, and finally he hears a knock.
"Wow," says Anna when he opens the door. She's wearing that vest-top that he loves, the one that pretty much accentuates everything he loves about her body, and a skirt shorter than the ones she usually goes for, and he is stunned by the fact that he can possibly be having sexual thoughts again already. Anna chuckles. "That's quite the welcome, Mr Moseley."
He attempts to maintain some sense of dignity. "Well, Ms Popplewell," he says, and places his hands on his hips, but gets no further. He is naked, after all.
She laughs, prodding him playfully in the chest, and comes in, shutting the door behind her. "So this is the new place? It's nice."
"Yeah!" he says, turning around, intending to guide her into the living room.
She gets there on her own, though, and is greeted by the sight of Skandar prodding at a sofa cushion with a disgusted look on his face.
"Will, I think you're going to need to wash these," he says. "Or possibly buy new ones. It's debatable."
"Hi, Skandar," says Anna, grinning and waving, and he looks up.
"Oh! Hi," he says, standing up. "Please excuse the -- er. Well."
"Yeah, I see you've sort of started without me," she laughs, and Skandar colours slightly. "It's okay though, because if we're going to get technical, I think I got a head start."
She brandishes a large pink plastic bag, and Will and Skandar raise their eyebrows at her.
"What's that?" Will asks.
"Take a seat, boys," she says, grinning. "I wouldn't recommend the sofa, considering what you've been doing on it."
"Damn that sofa," says Will, shaking his head. "Giving away our secrets."
"Oh yeah, because if it hadn't been for the residue on your furniture I would have had no idea what you were doing before I showed up," Anna says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "The nudity wouldn't have been a tip-off at all."
Will wrinkles his nose at her, but doesn't really have a comeback, and so he and Skandar obligingly take an armchair each, awaiting whatever it is she has to display to them.
Anna surveys the room for a moment. "You don't have a coffee table for me to lay things out on," she says disappointedly.
"I do," Will tells her, "it just hasn't arrived yet."
"Right," she says, the grin still not moving from her face. She holds out the bag again. "I went back to the sex shop."
Will isn't sure exactly what expressions cross his and Skandar's faces, but whatever they are, they make Anna crack up laughing.
"I don't know why you look so worried, I haven't gone out and bought whips and chains or anything."
Will shoots a sideways glance at Skandar, who looks somewhat relieved.
"You didn't go with Tilda again, did you?" says Will. "Because I don't think my brain would be able to take it."
Skandar cradles his head in his hands and makes a sort of whining noise.
"No," she says, giggling. "I can pretty much do this on my own, now. Anyway."
She reaches into the bag. "First of all, lube. I know you have some already, Will, but this is strawberry-flavoured, and I was intrigued."
Will feels himself break into a massive grin, and Skandar looks up, chuckling. "Anna," Will says, shaking his head. How is it possible for her to make that so cute?
She just shrugs at him and tosses him the bottle. "And for Skandar..." she continues, reaching back into the bag.
When she pulls out a packet containing a fairly small dildo, Will almost chokes with laughter, and Skandar's head goes right back into his hands.
"I thought you might want to practise," she says, innocently, holding the packet out in front of her.
Skandar rubs his forehead, then drags his hand back through his hair. "I can't believe you--" he starts, shaking his head. She wiggles the packet and he takes it, a smile reluctantly coming across his lips.
"Believe it," she grins proudly. She reaches back into the bag again. "And for me..."
"A vibrator?" asks Will, peering at the packet that she produces. "Are we not satisfying you, Anna?"
He's joking, and luckily she realises that.
"It's for when you're not around," she says, and he notices that she looks at both of them as she responds, not just him. "How am I supposed to cope without my--"
"I'm scared you're going to start sounding like a romance novel," Skandar interrupts suddenly, "and say something about us being 'stallions' or something, so I'm stopping you there."
She giggles at him, and he smirks at her, and Will watches them, an uneasy feeling rising from his stomach to his throat.
"I think you're getting a little too into this sex shop thing," Skandar is saying, teasingly, picking at the plastic wrapping of the dildo. "Who knows what you could turn up with next time?"
"Whips and chains," says Anna, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "Clearly, it's the next step in this whirlwind of debauchery."
Skandar bites his lip, tilting his head and giving her the most seductive look that Will has ever seen him give anyone. Will's hands form fists in his lap almost of their own accord, and he has the horrible feeling of being a third wheel, left completely out of the conversation, sticking out like a sore thumb.
But then Anna smiles and looks towards the boxes lining the wall. "Okay, enough of this," she says. "Time to get to work!"
* * *
"This isn't what you meant by work, is it," chuckles Will softly against Anna's neck as they lie on his bed less than half an hour later. He and Skandar have thrown on some jeans, but he has the feeling they aren't going to stay on for much longer.
"If your bed had taken the same route as your coffee table and not arrived yet," Anna replies, "I might never have been able to forgive you."
"Lucky break there, Will," Skandar chips in from Anna's other side, his hand casually resting on her stomach. It's all Will can look at.
He kisses her, so that he doesn't have to respond. Her lips are lazy against his, but in the good way, the casual, comfortable way. Even so, he finds him pressing more firmly against her, his tongue sliding dominantly between her lips. Skandar makes a noise, and when Will opens his eyes he sees Anna's hand against the crotch of Skandar's jeans. He stiffens.
In both senses of the word.
Out of everything he's feeling, the confusion is the strongest, and it bothers him that he can't think about it properly, and decide where he stands with it. It's probably just because this new development is so unexpected, but even that is a difficult excuse because it makes him feel so stupid. Did he really think that he would be able to have sex with both of them -- together and separately -- and that they would never do anything without him?
It would be easier, maybe, if the main thing was the jealousy. But it's not. The jealousy is definitely there -- he has to admit that, as much as he hates to -- but it's mixed up with so many other things that it seems hardly relevant.
When he glances down to see Skandar's hand disappearing under Anna's skirt, and Anna's legs spread open wide, her knees bent, he feels his heart sink further. This is the thing -- the other thing, on top of everything else -- whatever the problems are, they're going to be doubled. Not only, now, is he worried about Anna having found a connection with Skandar that he has not (and maybe can not) give her, but it works the other way as well.
What is Skandar thinking? Does he -- as juvenile as it sounds -- fancy Anna more than he fancies Will? Why are neither of them concerned about this? What if they have favourites? Will doesn't, not even slightly. For one thing, there's no way of comparing the two of them. They give him different things, evoke different reactions in him, and it's impossible to pit one against the other. And his feelings are, and always have been, equally strong.
Anna's hand curves gently around his thigh, and she turns, pulling away from Skandar's lips and shuffling around to rest her head against Will's shoulder. She's fiddling with the zip of his jeans and, of course, he's hard, but his thoughts nag at him, not giving up so easily.
Just because he doesn't play favourites doesn't mean that they don't.
"These jeans are stupid," declares Anna, heaving herself up with a long-suffering sigh in order to pay closer attention to the fastenings of his trousers.
"You should wear skirts," suggests Skandar with a smirk. "Easier access."
He wiggles his fingers, and Will can't help but laugh. The thing is, no matter what problems they might be having, they're best friends, and even though he's worrying on the inside, they're making him smile on the outside.
"I'm about five seconds away from resorting to scissors," Anna comments, yanking on the stuck zip.
"You can't be, I have no idea what box they're in," Will tells her.
Anna makes a growl of frustration and gives the zip another sharp tug. "I'll use my teeth then. Honestly."
Skandar laughs. "Oh, give it here."
He crawls over to Will and bends down, peering at the zip, and Will, predictably, feels his cock get even harder, making his jeans feel suddenly much tighter. Skandar notices, and grins up at him.
"I suppose you really want them off now."
"Yes please," says Will in a small voice, looking forlornly down at his jeans.
Skandar wiggles the zip tab around, and then presses his hand flat to Will's crotch (making Will squirm under the touch) and slides the zip down. Finally it comes loose.
"I think there was a thread stuck, or," Skandar mumbles as Will wriggles out of his jeans, his erection free now, bouncing against his stomach as he writhes around, pulling his jeans off his ankles.
When he settles back down, Anna and Skandar are both still crouched over him, and it's almost like they're trying to decide who gets to go first. And he knows how self-centred it sounds, but really, this is the way it should be. Anna wins out, flicking out her tongue to wet her palm before grasping Will's cock firmly, stroking smoothly up and down. He stretches out; sighs.
Of course he wants them to be together too, but he wants it to be himself in the middle, always. Not Anna, not Skandar. It doesn't seem right. Maybe he's only making excuses -- after all, this is the way that's easiest for him, and why should they have to deal with the competition and the jealousy if he doesn't?
"Will, you're zoning out," Skandar informs him suddenly. He runs his hand across Will's stomach, then strokes his fingers down through the dark blonde hair leading to his cock. He nuzzles closer, lips against Will's neck. "Will this help?"
Will shakes his head, but it's not to say 'no', more a physical (and perhaps pointless) attempt to clear his mind. This is okay, he tells himself. These are his best friends, and he is so comfortable with them, and he knows they'll work this out. And right now they want sex, and that's fine by him.
He removes Skandar's jeans in record time, finding him thick and hard beneath the fabric. Suddenly, it's as if the heat has risen and, as Anna stands to undress, Will and Skandar reach for each other's cocks at the same moment, falling together into a kiss. Anna, too, in her desperation, pulls off her knickers but not her skirt, and nearly gets stuck inside a tangle of vest-top and bra in her rush to take them off. And then she's on them with no hesitation, down on all fours and moving back and forth between them, hair tickling their stomachs as she licks and sucks at their cocks.
And Will can feel the dynamic shift once again, dramatically. There's something missing, something gone forever now, and it's between Skandar and Anna. But it's a good thing, really, because now she takes his cock between her lips with no hesitation, and the awkwardness is gone, the unspoken, underlying tension now out in the open. And as many problems as this thing between them has caused him (and may continue to cause him) he really, truly loves to see them together like this.
Not only does it make things complete, make things feel right, but they look so good together, Anna's dark head down between Skandar's legs, her smooth white skin against Skandar's freckled thighs, her plump, shiny lips around his cock and the cheeky, crooked grin Skandar is giving Will right now. Will takes it in, eyes scanning down Skandar's slender chest, and the curve of Anna's bare, round arse visible under her short skirt as it rides up.
And he feels a sudden, unexpected surge of love for them both, and he leans in, tangling his fingers down in Anna's hair and pressing his lips to Skandar's smiling mouth. When they pull apart again, Skandar's smirk is back, and he looks down at Anna, who gently lets him go and lifts her head.
"Which of us do you want?" Skandar asks her, eyeing Will cheekily.
"Oh, god," Anna groans, hands over her face. "Don't do that." She kicks out with her feet, frustrated. "I wish I could have you both."
"Well," says Skandar with a wicked grin, "technically, you can."
Anna shoots him a look. "Um, ow." Her eyes are half-lidded and her lips are swollen from sucking Skandar's cock and it might be the sexiest Will has ever found her. Her banter with Skandar only excites him more.
"Just pointing out that it's an option," Skandar teases. "We're not going to have to flip a fucking coin again, are we?"
"No," says Will. "I know exactly what I want."
"Oh, we all know what that is," Anna giggles.
"Please," says Will, leaning in to Skandar and kissing the corner of his lips softly. "Please let me fuck you."
Skandar purses his lips, considering. "You really, really want to, don't you?"
Will nods. He already knows exactly how this is going to go. He knows Skandar almost as well as he knows himself, now, and he knows that if -- if -- Skandar is really considering this, it's going to be a huge difficulty for him to say so. Because if he lets Will get something he wants -- especially after making it initially clear that he was against the idea -- then it means Will wins.
"Well, I suppose if it means that much to you..." says Skandar eventually, sighing. "But I'm telling you now that I won't enjoy it."
"And I'm telling you that you will," replies Will, smirking.
Before it can turn into an argument, Anna speaks up. "My present seems kind of pointless now," she says, sadly, glancing at the small pile of gifts that Will has moved (helpfully) into the bedroom.
Will laughs. "Hardly. Someone is going to put that dildo to use at some point, Anna, I promise you."
All of their attention is focused on Skandar, of course, which rather goes against Will's desire to always be in the middle, but for now he can make an exception.
"This doesn't smell like strawberries at all," Anna is saying, sniffing the new lube suspiciously.
"Nothing that's meant to be strawberry-flavoured ever does," Will says as he holds out his hand for her to give it to him. She does, and then wriggles out of her skirt, tossing it onto the floor.
"This is just wrong," says Skandar, wrinkling his nose as he eyes the picture of the bright red strawberries on the bottle. When Will pulls Skandar's legs apart, Skandar snorts, looking down at him. "Oh yeah, that's not weird or clinical at all. Would you come up here?"
Will laughs, and obeys, stretching out over Skandar, his head nestled against Skandar's neck. Anna copies, nudging Skandar aside to make room for herself, and she curls herself against his body, resting her head on her hand. Her breasts brush his arm and chest, and the dark hair between her legs presses up against his thigh. She smiles at him, a little curve of her lips, and he smiles back, eyelids low. Will applies the lube, and reaches back down, running his fingers along the length of Skandar's cock lying hot and hard against his stomach, before moving them lower, slick and gentle against puckered skin. He hears Skandar take in a deep breath.
"You okay?" he asks, wanting to make sure before he goes any further.
Skandar rolls his eyes. "Yeah."
When Will presses his finger in, he finds himself trying to imagine that it's just himself he's doing this to, that it's no big deal. But it's Skandar beneath him, all stretched out and sweaty and trusting, and when his finger fills him, the unbelievable tightness surrounding it, Skandar makes a sharp little sound and clutches at Anna's hip, and Will's gone, utterly hopeless, pressing his nose and mouth against the skin of Skandar's neck and doing whatever he can to make Skandar make that noise again.
"Go a bit slower," Skandar murmurs after a moment, his voice slightly strained, and Will does, gentle and rocking with his finger in up to the knuckle, letting Skandar get used to the feeling.
He concentrates, and doesn't realise that he's sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth until Anna points and laughs. He sticks his tongue out further at her, leaning across to flick it across her lips, making her giggle and squirm. Skandar laughs along with them, his eyes bright. He's comfortable. It's okay. Will slides a second finger in alongside the first, kisses Skandar's collarbone, thrusts smoothly and slowly into the tight heat until Skandar is moving with him, quickly, his breathing shallow. And then everything is faster, blurred, Skandar's cock burning hot where it's pressed against Will's arm and Will's mouth open and wet against Skandar's neck.
"Are you ready?" Will whispers, and his cock aches against the jut of Skandar's hip. He tries not to think about the incredible tight heat surrounding his finger and tries not to imagine how it's going to feel around his cock, knowing he'll come instantly if he does.
When Skandar breathes in-out, sharp and quick before nodding rapidly, Will tenses up, trying to control himself. Anna's expression is hard, set, her fingers moving quickly down through the soft dark curls between her legs, her hand bumping Skandar's hip repeatedly. Skandar turns, and their eyes lock as he cups her breast in his hand, his thumb rolling over a rosy nipple. Will's throat is dry. He pulls his fingers out slowly, trying to remember what muscle movements are required for him to sit up.
"You wish," says Skandar suddenly when Will does eventually manage it. He glances up from Anna. "Just because you're topping doesn't mean you have to be on top."
Anna looks puzzled for a moment, then laughs, pressing her mouth to Skandar's shoulder to stifle her laughter. "Oh, Will," she says, then, grinning. "You just can't catch a break."
Skandar sits up straight, pulling Will towards him and kissing him fiercely, a rough wet slide of lips, before turning him around and spreading him out on the bed. And Will feels like he's about to pass out from lack of blood in his brain, when suddenly he realises --
"I have no idea where my condoms are."
Anna looks like she's about to murder him. "What?" she yells. She sits up straight and starts muttering to herself angrily. "Tell me you're kidding. Oh, god, I can't believe I went to a sex shop and I didn't buy condoms. I bought fucking fruit-flavoured lubricant and I didn't buy condoms. I want to die."
Skandar cracks up, but rubs Anna's shoulder soothingly. "It's okay," he says. "I've got some."
He fumbles around for his jeans, and then pulls out a rather impressive strip of condom packets from the pocket. He grins at Anna, and she covers her own grin with her hand, shaking her head at him. Will feels like he's missing something again, and there's that sharp pang of it, the confusing desperation to know both more and less. To both his disappointment and his relief, this secret joke they share goes no further, and Skandar turns back, pulling off a packet and tearing it open.
He swings his head round, shaking his dark fringe out of his eyes -- he really needs a haircut, Will finds himself thinking -- and slides the condom slowly onto Will's cock. The simple slight touch of his fingers is enough to set Will off again, and his heart rate quickens. His cock is practically throbbing when Skandar slicks him up with the lube. Anna just settles down, seemingly content with watching the show. She parts her legs, hand slipping down between them again, and Will is torn between watching her and watching Skandar.
This is not a new struggle, though, and he knows he usually figures it out.
Right now Skandar is straddling him, his head dipped as he reaches behind him for Will's cock, and Will runs his hands up Skandar's thighs to his hips, steadying him. He gazes up, but Skandar isn't looking, too busy concentrating on getting this right. When he tries to lower himself down he nearly loses his balance and grabs the headboard, but then he just grins, shaking his head, and tries again. Will wants to help but he knows Skandar wants as much control of this as possible.
When he feels the head of his cock brush Skandar's arse he hears himself whimper, and Skandar doesn't even react, just slides down gently, hand still keeping Will's cock steady as it pushes inside him. Will gasps, fingers unintentionally tightening around Skandar's skinny hips. It's so tight, tighter than anything he's felt before, and he's hardly able to move. The muscles in Skandar's thighs quiver as he takes Will in, ever so slowly, his brow furrowed and his teeth clenched as he lowers himself down. His focus seems to be entirely on the feeling, and he doesn't look at Will until he's filled, and then his eyes dart up to Will's face and Will feels faint.
Anna makes a slight sound like a sigh next to them, and Will glances towards her, murmuring gently and nonsensically, but Skandar is still and silent, shifting, letting himself get used to this new feeling. After a moment he takes a deep breath in, and spreads his hands out across Will's stomach and up to his chest, letting himself rock forwards a little. And then a little more, until Will feels Skandar's stomach against his cock, trapping it between their bodies. Skandar's lips brush his briefly and then he grins, widely, straightening back up and lifting his hips just the tiniest bit.
The effect it has on Will is incredible. The sudden hot slide around his cock makes him groan and he grasps Skandar's hips again, but Skandar just rises up further, hands flat on the bed now. Will catches him share a glance with Anna, and then his eyes are down, watching himself pull up, nearly off, and then in one smooth glide, back down again. Will feels like he can't even breathe. It takes every single ounce of his self-control not to thrust up into Skandar until he comes. He reaches out for Anna's hand, but Anna's hands are busy.
In fact, they are not busy doing quite what they were doing before. She's not touching herself -- she's opening packets.
"I need batteries," she says after a moment. "Sorry."
Skandar stops moving and Will feels like he might explode. He wipes his forehead, and tries to get his vocal chords to work. "Take the one from the alarm clock. It's in -- no, that, the box -- there -- under the lamp."
As Anna leaps off the bed to start rummaging through boxes, Skandar's eyes meet his again, and he tries to get his breathing rate to return to normal. He fails. Skandar picks up the pace, pushing up-off-down-in, and Will can't help it, he has to move with him, has to buck his hips and fuck, thrust, feel Skandar tight and hot and slick around him and ohgod, it's incredible.
There's a low buzzing and he turns, seeing Anna with her legs spread wide. She's not only using the vibrator, rolling the smooth tip over her clit, but she has the dildo in her other hand, her wrist working as she thrusts it into herself. Will stares. Skandar tightens around him, and Will sees that he's staring too. And not just staring -- after a second, Skandar's hand drags down his stomach and wraps easily around his own cock, tugging and sliding and pulling as he watches Anna flushed and breathless and getting herself off.
"Fuck," Anna whispers, a tiny little breath of a word, and her pale thighs tense and tremble. She looks at both of them, and they look at her, and her hand moves faster, the dildo sliding deep inside her and out, her rhythm almost matching theirs.
"I can't -- I can't," breathes Will shakily, as Skandar starts to move faster, slamming down onto him over and over, grinding his hips and rocking against him, so tight, so good. Skandar just nods and breathes out slowly, a contrast to his frantic movements as his fist becomes a quick blur gliding over his cock.
He almost doesn't want to let go even though he's so close, so so close, because the feeling is amazing and he doesn't want it to end. But now Skandar's hand is slowing, and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his throat is working, his Adam's apple bobbing, and Will knows he's close too. He grips Skandar's hips tighter, heaves his own hips upwards, thrusting into him, and suddenly Skandar's entire body jolts and shudders. He even groans out loud, a long low sound that Will has never heard him make and now wants to commit to memory. He holds Will still inside him, his mouth slack and his fingers moving unsteadily over his cock now as he spurts jerkily across Will's chest.
Will comes from the sight of it, almost passing out from the release. His grip tightens on Skandar's hips, his knuckles whitening, and he feels his orgasm roll through him like waves, pulling him down under with it and leaving him utterly exhausted.
For a while he just can't move at all, and when he opens his eyes, his limbs feeling like lead, he sees Skandar chucking something into an empty box (there's no bin in the room yet) and then crawling back onto the bed to focus on Anna. Anna -- Anna, who is still desperately trying to bring herself off, ever so close, he can tell, but not quite there yet. And when Skandar's hand reaches between her legs, Will is up like a shot, joining him, both of them throwing the toys aside and getting her there themselves.
It's Will's fingers, three of them inside her, and Skandar's tongue against her clit, that gets her there in the end, thrashing against them on the bed, pulling at Skandar's hair. And when they keep going, through the rush of wet heat and the shuddering, she comes again, almost sobbing against the pillow with the force of it.
There is nothing for them to do afterwards but fall asleep.
* * *
When Will wakes up, Skandar is curled, hot and sticky, against him, and Anna is nowhere in sight. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, not recognising the new room for a moment. Then, he gently moves Skandar's arm from where it's draped over him, and crawls out of bed.
In the kitchen, he finds Anna sitting on the counter top and snacking on a packet of crackers. The kettle is boiling, and she's wearing his t-shirt and nothing else.
"Hey," she says with her mouth full, giving him a little wave. "Do you want some tea?"
"Hey," he says, sliding a box out of the way with the side of his foot and crossing the room towards her. "Yes please."
Her lips are covered in crumbs but he presses a kiss to them anyway.
"Skandar still sleeping?" she asks, pressing her fist to her mouth as she finishes chewing. He nods, and she rolls her eyes, grinning. "He gets tired out so easily."
A few weeks ago a statement like that wouldn't have meant much to him, but now it causes that awful tightening in his chest and he wonders why he can't talk about it. Wonders why they haven't talked about it. It seems like it would be so easy to say I know you two slept together but his lips stay shut, the words staying inside his head. It's been like this a lot lately, and he's always been a strong believer in communication, so it's odd that he's keeping so many things inside. He remembers Ben (has been trying to push him to the back of his mind) and wonders why it is that he wants so desperately to keep Ben's visit secret. He rejected him, after all. It's not as though he's been unfaithful, or done anything that Anna or Skandar would be angry with him for.
And yet, he doesn't mention it. Doesn't mention anything. And now here he is with the perfect opportunity, sitting down for a cup of tea with Anna.
They used to talk about everything.
"Mugs?" she asks as the kettle finishes boiling, and he nods, wandering off to the other side of the room in search of the correct box.
It's when she's pouring the milk in that she says it, her hands perfectly steady but her eyes focused downwards.
"I love you."
He curves a hand around her waist, feeling her skin warm under the t-shirt, and presses a soft kiss to her shoulder. "I love you too."
It should matter what she means. The details, the specifics, they should matter. But they don't, because it's them, it's Will and Anna, and Skandar is sleeping back in the bedroom, and Will knows that they can make this work.
If there's one single simple feeling that he has about all of this, it's faith.
Part 6.
Title: the night starts here (5/?)
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar/Anna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash and het. Real people.
Summary: It would be easier, maybe, if the main thing was the jealousy. But it's not. The jealousy is definitely there -- he has to admit that, as much as he hates to -- but it's mixed up with so many other things that it seems hardly relevant.
A/N: This is a bit longer than usual.
[ Part 1. ¦ Part 2. ¦ Part 3. ¦ Part 4. ¦ Part 5. ¦ Part 6. ¦ Part 7a & Part 7b. ¦ Part 8a & Part 8b. ¦ TBC]
Will doesn't hear from Skandar or Anna for three days. He sends a brief and silly text to Anna's phone when he gets back home from Skandar's house, but it gets no response, and after that he's too busy to get in touch, all his time taken up by organising his move.
It's the day before moving day when Ben turns up, uninvited, at his flat, with a cheerful grin on his face and an armful of empty boxes.
"Thought you'd be at that last minute panic stage," he says, handing Will the boxes. "I came by to help."
"How did you know I was moving tomorrow?" Will asks, completely confused. It doesn't really matter that they haven't said hello -- the two of them have never really bothered with greetings.
"You told me on the phone a few days ago," Ben says, chuckling as he wanders in. "Oh, that's pretty good, it looks like you've packed up nearly everything!"
"Um," says Will, shutting the door and turning around. He doesn't really remember telling Ben, but then again, the conversation was quite hurried and he was pretty distracted at the time. "Yeah. It's just -- it's just the bedroom and the bathroom, really. And food."
Ben nods, then points towards the hallway leading to Will's bedroom, giving Will a questioning look.
"Yeah," Will says, "yeah. Okay. Let's get started then!"
* * *
As unexpected as Ben's arrival was, Will is actually quite thankful for it. He'd been putting off doing the bedroom for a while because there's so much stuff in there, and he just knew it was going to be hell to pack everything up. But Ben is surprisingly organised, and after only about half an hour, all of Will's clothes (save for an outfit to wear tomorrow, of course) are packed neatly into labelled boxes.
"What's next?" says Ben, rubbing his hands together and surveying the room. "Drawers under the bed?"
Just then, the phone rings, and Will turns, immediately thinking of Skandar and Anna and hoping it's one of them. "What?" he says. "Yeah, I'll just -- I'll be back in a moment."
It's Skandar on the phone, sounding a little quiet and tired, but Will doesn't dwell on his tone of voice because he's offering to come round to the new flat tomorrow and help him unpack.
"Thank you so much, Skan," Will says. "I really appreciate it."
He waits for Skandar to make some dirty joke about how he can pay back the favour, but he doesn't, and then suddenly Ben is calling him.
"Who's that?" Skandar asks suspiciously.
"Oh, it's Ben," says Will. "He just dropped by to help me pack."
"Dropped by?" Skandar repeats. "Dropped by your flat, or dropped by Gloucestershire?"
He has a point, Will realises, but Ben is yelling his name again.
"Listen, I'll text you when I know what the plan is tomorrow, okay? I've got to go."
Skandar sounds a bit huffy with him when he says goodbye, but that's to be expected, Will supposes. He goes back to the bedroom, wondering what Ben needs him for.
"Will, what's this?"
Will stops dead. Ben is holding Anna's strap-on in his hands, the box it came in lying open on the bed in front of him. He's grinning -- he clearly knows what it is, of course -- and Will just stares, lost for words.
"Will, mate, you're gay," Ben says, still grinning. "What use have you got for this?"
"I'm not gay," says Will, wondering why exactly he's stating facts about his sexual preference instead of yelling at Ben for invading his privacy.
Ben raises his eyebrows disbelievingly. "That's not what it seemed like when I was fucking you."
Will crosses his arms, a little taken aback. Neither of them have mentioned that night since it happened. "Why are you bringing that up now?"
Ben shrugs. "Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? We've been getting on," he says. "Thought that by now the memory would be a little less -- painful."
"Ben--" starts Will angrily, but he's interrupted almost immediately.
"Hey, hey," says Ben, holding up his hands. "I'm not trying to start an argument. I'm just thinking about the fact that you're making some poor, bewildered young girl strap this on, when we all know how much you love the real thing."
Will is speechless. What can he say? How can he explain? He can't exactly tell the truth. He's thought about it a lot -- moreso now that Anna has told Tilda -- and even though he's sure that some people would be very understanding, there are certainly some people who wouldn't. It's not just that, either, it's the fact that at the moment, he's very much in the public eye, and until he can at least imagine what the general reaction to this would be, he's not going to entertain the idea of the three of them going public with their relationship.
Not that Ben's likely to run out and start giving tell-all interviews to all the tabloids, but at the moment, Will doesn't want to take any chances with who he can trust. He knows Ben isn't that great at keeping secrets, and he also knows how quickly gossip spreads.
So where does that leave him now? What explanation can he give?
It seems like Ben is willing to help him out.
"Will," he's saying, his voice softening as he puts down the strap-on. "Has a girl used this on you?"
That, he can answer. "Yes."
"Did you...imagine that she was a guy?"
Will hesitates. Of course he didn't, but it doesn't seem like Ben is going to believe him if he tells him so.
"I'm sorry," Ben says, "it's just that -- well, I know you were a bit hesitant when we slept together, and then after that night you acted like it never happened, so I thought -- this just seems like another hint that you might be having problems accepting your sexuality. And I want you to know that you can talk to me about it."
Will still says nothing. He's fuming on the inside, though. How dare Ben make these assumptions about him? They had one drunken night together, and now Ben thinks he knows his entire sexual history?
"There's nothing wrong with being gay, Will," Ben continues, gently. "But it's not fair on other people if you spend your life pretending to be somebody you're not. Did you buy this so that you could pretend your girlfriend--"
Will shuts his eyes, dips his head a little bit. It looks like a nod.
"Come here, Will," he hears Ben saying. "It's okay."
Trying to calm his anger, he crosses the room and joins Ben on the bed, lets Ben wrap his arms around him even though all he wants to do is punch him in the face.
"Do you -- do you pretend that she's a certain guy in particular?" Ben asks, resting his chin on Will's shoulder, speaking so quietly that he's almost whispering.
Will grits his teeth. It's too late now. He should've denied it in the beginning, explained to Ben that just because they slept together it doesn't mean he isn't attracted to girls, and just because he wants a girl to use a strap-on doesn't mean he likes to pretend that she's a man. He wonders if there's any way he can explain things now.
"It's okay, you know," Ben is saying, gently, rubbing Will's back. "I still think about it too."
It takes Will a minute to realise what he means, and when he does, he pulls back. "What?" he says incredulously, but Ben doesn't even seem to hear him.
"That night doesn't have to be our last, if you don't want it to be," Ben says, looking him straight in the eye, a slight smile across his face.
Will is speechless, which really isn't good because Ben is leaning in, arms around him again, and Will panics, jerking back and finding his voice at the very last minute.
"Ben, no," is all he says, and it's not enough.
"It's okay, Will," Ben says encouragingly. "If you want to do this, that's okay."
"But I don't," Will spits out, frowning at him. "I think you should leave."
Ben looks down at the bed, eyebrows knotted. "I think you've got a lot of stuff you need to work through, Will," he says after a moment, and Will clenches his fists angrily. "And I'm here for you, I want you to know that."
Will continues to say nothing, because he's not sure he trusts himself, and Ben slowly slides off the bed and walks towards the door.
"You can call me anytime, I won't call you. It's up to you," he says. "I'll let myself out."
Will waits until he hears the front door close and then he throws himself back on the bed and shuts his eyes tightly.
He has the feeling that this isn't over.
* * *
It is very much put on hold, though, as Ben stays true to his word and sort of disappears from the picture in amongst the stress of arguments with removals men and unpacking what seems like hundreds of boxes. He has about half of his furniture in the new flat, and has unpacked some of the more vital things, but the task is extremely daunting and after about an hour and a half, he's starting to wish he hadn't decided to do this after all.
He abandons a box of crockery and cutlery in favour of a box of bedsheets, then swaps the massive job of unpacking all of his clothes for the smaller one of sorting out his books. He has only managed to unpack about six, however, when Skandar arrives.
Skandar doesn't greet him with an offer of help, though. He greets him with the words "I had sex with Anna."
His gaze shifts from side to side as he pulls at the sleeve of his jumper. "Don't make a big deal out of it or anything," he adds, standing small and fidgety in the doorway and regarding Will with a worried expression.
"That's--" says Will, but hasn't actually got anything planned to come next. His brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate, and he realises he has to go on his feelings. When he feels himself starting to smile, the words come easily. "That's great."
Skandar sort of bobs his head, shrugging, embarrassed.
"Did you think I'd be cross?" Will asks.
"I dunno, not really cross," Skandar replies, frowning. "I just thought -- well, you've never been on your own with her, have you?"
Something inside Will sinks, and he shakes his head. It's strange, really, that he hasn't thought about that until this very moment. He knew from the beginning that he wanted to sleep with both of them, and that it didn't matter if it was separately or together. And maybe it's not even that they've been together without him, it's just the fact that Skandar's done that before he has, and it just seems wrong.
He's had feelings for Anna for -- oh, years, practically since he first met her, and Skandar seems to only have developed them in the past month or so. And, okay, he knows this shouldn't matter, because it's not as though Skandar has fucked her and he hasn't, but even so, the idea of Skandar sharing something with her before he has a chance to bothers him.
"It's not a big thing," Skandar says, gesturing vaguely, and Will glances up at him. "It just sort of happened. That's okay, right? I mean -- you'll probably have loads of time with her when I'm off filming."
Will nods slowly. It's been brought up again -- Dawn Treader -- and he knows immediately that it's not going to be discussed any further. Even if he tried -- which he doesn't really want to -- it still wouldn't.
"Yeah, it's fine," he says eventually, hoping Skandar isn't picking up on his discomfort. And he probably isn't, because he isn't very good at that sort of thing, so Will doesn't think he needs to worry. "I'm kind of surprised, but it's good, it's a good thing."
Skandar grins, nodding, clearly relieved.
And then, before he can stop himself, Will blurts out, "How was it?"
Skandar laughs, eyes a little wide, which makes Will angry for some reason, but he laughs along with him anyway.
"It was good," Skandar grins. "Really good."
Will wants to say, better than the first time? but luckily Skandar keeps talking.
"It was...hot. I mean, not the sex -- well, yeah, the sex, but the weather. It was -- it was the day you left, and, you know it was really hot?"
Will laughs. "You're babbling."
He wants to ask more questions, but none of them seem appropriate, because they're all things like what position? and did she come? and the worst one, did you talk about me?
This insecurity, this jealousy, seems to have come out of nowhere and it's caught him completely off-guard. He always expected difficulties, but he never thought they'd come from him. The idea of Skandar and Anna together just excited him so much that he never imagined he could have a problem with it, but then again, there's a big difference between being there with them as they fumble through their first time together with his help, and the two of them fucking on Skandar's bed during a heatwave while Will is miles away.
It's the not-knowing that bothers him the most, he thinks. Not knowing what it was like. It's fine for Skandar to say that it was good, but sex is usually good, especially (he imagines) where Anna is concerned. But he wants details. And he wants to know that it wasn't perfect, that they were clumsy and a little uncomfortable and Anna didn't come and maybe it was awkward afterwards. And he hates himself for thinking that, because he should want them to be happy, but what it all comes down to is that he doesn't want them to be happy without him.
It's strange, because he never thought this would happen. The problems, he thought, would be between Skandar and Anna, their jealousy of each other. Maybe that's why this is such a shock -- he never even considered that they could get so comfortable with each other to fuck each other without him there.
In the end, his mobile rings, interrupting their discussion.
It's Anna.
"My audition got moved," she says brightly. "It's the day after tomorrow now. I can come and help you unpack things if you want?"
Will grins, so happy to be hearing from her that he almost forgets about everything else. "Of course!" he says. "Skandar's already here, but I'll take all the help I can get."
He can't help feeling that once it's the three of them together again, they aren't going to get a lot of work done. After all, whatever problems he might be having with the situation at the moment, they are always easily distracted by each other, and the possibility of sex is always present, and tempting.
This is probably the reason why he and Skandar only manage to unpack one and a half boxes before they abandon the project entirely and end up sprawled out on the sofa, half-naked and kissing each other as though it's been closer to four months than four days.
Skandar's got his trousers and boxers off already, and his t-shirt pushed up practically to his neck. And when Will stops kissing him and looks at him, the image of Anna still floats in his mind and he can't stop himself from trying one more time.
"How did you and Anna -- you know," he says, and then clears his throat, feeling a little stupid. When he tries again, his voice comes out lower than normal. "How did you and Anna fuck?"
Skandar smirks at him, squirms on the sofa beneath him. "Did you never do sex education at school, Will?"
Will tightens his grip on the base of Skandar's cock, holds still. "Come on," he says. "How?"
Skandar doesn't say anything for a moment, but bucks his hips up a little, and Will gives in, slicks his hand up the length of Skandar's cock and then back down again, watching the muscles in his stomach tense up.
"She was -- she was on top," Skandar gasps out, grabbing at the sofa cushion, and Will bites his lip, hard.
It's worse this way, that it's something he and Anna have never done. It's just a position and it can't be that different and it shouldn't be a big deal, and most of all he should stop the questions now so as not to torture himself, but he seems to have misplaced his common sense.
"Did she--" he starts, and then stops again, feeling himself starting to blush and being thankful that Skandar has his eyes closed. He doesn't want to say these things out loud. He should be able to, because it's Skandar, but then again, that's part of the reason it makes him nervous -- Skandar's the type to laugh.
"Mm?" Skandar says, opening his eyes again, looking at Will questioningly. "Did she what?"
"Did she ride you?"
Skandar doesn't laugh, and Will breathes a quiet sigh of relief at this. He twists his wrist, hand gliding smooth and quick over Skandar's cock now, urging him to answer.
"Y-yeah," Skandar breathes out, and Will leans down, covers him with his body.
He kisses his neck, hard, sucking at the skin, and whispers, "Tell me about it."
"What?" Skandar says. "N-no way."
Will slows his hand down, nips at Skandar's shoulder. "Why not?"
Skandar doesn't say anything but Will knows him well enough to know that the reason is embarrassment.
"Go on," says Will, steadying himself with one hand and reaching down to unbutton his trousers with the other. He pushes them down enough so that they're out of the way, and pulls his erection through the slit in his boxers.
He lowers down, presses it against Skandar's, lets him feel it for a moment.
"Go on," he says again, then, rocking slowly forwards, sucking in a sharp breath as their slick cocks slide against each other.
Skandar squirms again, and the heat from his face tells Will that he's blushing. "I don't -- I don't know what to say," he says, hoarsely. "This is stupid, Will, can't we -- can't we just get off?"
No, Will thinks, frustrated. No. He's got to know more than he does now, and he knows Skandar can give him that information.
"Why can't you tell me?" he murmurs, and it's strange really, that they're arguing like this, here and now, with their cocks hard against each other and being ignored.
"I don't know what you want me to say," Skandar says after a moment, wriggling underneath him, but Will holds him down, keeps him still. "It was just sex."
Will feels a surge of anger at the words. Just sex. "Did she -- did she suck you off?" He feels Skandar nod. "Tell me."
"She -- yeah. She sucked me. She -- she had my whole -- Will, please," Skandar says stutteringly, hips twisting.
The please means please keep moving and Will obliges, shifting slowly against him. The heads of their cocks touch, and Skandar's body jerks. They're slick against each other, hot and smooth, and Will wants to reach down but -- not yet. Not yet.
"Go on," he says, desperate.
"She had my whole cock in her mouth," Skandar blurts out, writhing beneath him, rutting against him. "And it was -- oh my god, I nearly came, she's so -- she's so fucking good, Will."
Will hates the way that he says it, like he's telling him something he doesn't know. That's something he's done with Anna, and Skandar bloody well knows it, watched it happen.
"I know," he says, letting himself remember, then, the feeling of Anna's lips, the feeling of his cock sliding down her throat. And then he remembers that she was looking at Skandar while she did it, and he was smoothing her hair out of her face for her, and he tenses up, angry once again. "And then you fucked?"
He pulls up, wriggling out of his boxers and his jeans, kicking them aside onto the floor. He steadies himself again, lifting up, wanting to see Skandar's face. Skandar presses his lips tightly together, groans as their cocks align once again. "N-no."
"Your fingers?" Will hears himself asking, and it's not a full sentence, it doesn't even make sense, but Skandar understands him, nodding, eyes closed as he pushes up, trying to get their rhythm back. "Mouth?"
He shakes his head and Will's glad. Not glad, specifically, that there's something he's done with Anna that Skandar hasn't, but that there's something left for them to do that he can be there for. Skandar still doesn't know how she tastes, and when he finds out, Will is going to be there.
"How many fingers?" Will asks, too turned on to even consider the question, now, and Skandar clutches at Will's hips, pressing up off the sofa against him.
"Two," he says breathlessly. "She asked for two."
She asked for two. Will imagines it, sees Anna lying naked and sweaty on Skandar's bed, Skandar's hand between her legs, hears her begging him. The image brings the usual excitement, makes him thrust faster and more erratically against Skandar, but it brings with it a new burst of jealousy, and he grits his teeth.
Skandar's legs part a little, and Will moves even faster, his cock slipping down between Skandar's thighs in his haste. Skandar gasps loudly, swears, fingernails digging into Will's hips, and Will tries to right himself but can't, it feels too good.
"And then -- and then we fucked," Skandar says suddenly. "She was -- she was on top of me, and her, oh fuck, Will, her tits--"
He doesn't even need to say anything else. Will can see it.
"Fuck, Will," Skandar chokes out, clearly bringing back the mental image into his mind. His hand flies down between his legs, grasping his cock tightly, and his body jerks suddenly and violently against Will's as he splutters and comes hard.
Will can't even watch him, he just closes his eyes and imagines what Skandar has described to him. He imagines Anna riding Skandar's cock, her tits bouncing, her hair damp with sweat and swaying with every movement -- and maybe she leaned forwards, steadying her hands on the bed, her heavy breasts brushing his chest as she pressed kisses to his jaw and neck, open-mouthed and hot and -- and maybe he lifted his hips up, thrust up into her, making her groan against his skin --
He's vaguely aware of Skandar's hands, hot and smooth and soothing as they rub his back encouragingly, and Skandar's low voice in his ears, "Come on, come on," and the wetness of Skandar's come against his stomach as his cock slides clumsily across and between Skandar's thighs. He's so close -- so close --
"She was touching herself," Skandar hisses suddenly, the words coming quickly from his mouth as if by mistake, and Will gasps, hips moving faster, desperate. "Touching her clit while I fucked her. And she made these noises -- come on. Come on, Will."
And he does, head falling against Skandar's shoulder as all the energy seems to leave his body, and he groans out loud against Skandar's slick skin, coming uncontrollably.
They're still lying there, sticky and motionless against each other, when the door buzzes.
"Fuck," says Will as he attempts to get up. It's disgusting down between their legs, and probably even more disgusting on his sofa (which is a shame, because it's new) but somehow he just can't bring himself to move. "Fuuu--uuck."
"You're closer," Skandar grumbles. "Go on."
Will finally manages to detach himself from Skandar's body, and falls onto the floor as the door buzzes a second time. Skandar dissolves into hysterical laughter and Will picks himself back up, stumbling across the room and into the hallway.
"I don't even know how to work this thing!" he yells back to Skandar, peering at the intercom by the door, but he gets no response. He presses four buttons before something actually seems to happen, and then he hears a sort of static, and says tentatively, "Hello?"
"It's me!" comes Anna's voice, and he grins, pressing another five buttons before she seems to be able to actually open the door.
He waits, naked and exhausted, slumped against the wall, for her to reach his floor, and finally he hears a knock.
"Wow," says Anna when he opens the door. She's wearing that vest-top that he loves, the one that pretty much accentuates everything he loves about her body, and a skirt shorter than the ones she usually goes for, and he is stunned by the fact that he can possibly be having sexual thoughts again already. Anna chuckles. "That's quite the welcome, Mr Moseley."
He attempts to maintain some sense of dignity. "Well, Ms Popplewell," he says, and places his hands on his hips, but gets no further. He is naked, after all.
She laughs, prodding him playfully in the chest, and comes in, shutting the door behind her. "So this is the new place? It's nice."
"Yeah!" he says, turning around, intending to guide her into the living room.
She gets there on her own, though, and is greeted by the sight of Skandar prodding at a sofa cushion with a disgusted look on his face.
"Will, I think you're going to need to wash these," he says. "Or possibly buy new ones. It's debatable."
"Hi, Skandar," says Anna, grinning and waving, and he looks up.
"Oh! Hi," he says, standing up. "Please excuse the -- er. Well."
"Yeah, I see you've sort of started without me," she laughs, and Skandar colours slightly. "It's okay though, because if we're going to get technical, I think I got a head start."
She brandishes a large pink plastic bag, and Will and Skandar raise their eyebrows at her.
"What's that?" Will asks.
"Take a seat, boys," she says, grinning. "I wouldn't recommend the sofa, considering what you've been doing on it."
"Damn that sofa," says Will, shaking his head. "Giving away our secrets."
"Oh yeah, because if it hadn't been for the residue on your furniture I would have had no idea what you were doing before I showed up," Anna says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "The nudity wouldn't have been a tip-off at all."
Will wrinkles his nose at her, but doesn't really have a comeback, and so he and Skandar obligingly take an armchair each, awaiting whatever it is she has to display to them.
Anna surveys the room for a moment. "You don't have a coffee table for me to lay things out on," she says disappointedly.
"I do," Will tells her, "it just hasn't arrived yet."
"Right," she says, the grin still not moving from her face. She holds out the bag again. "I went back to the sex shop."
Will isn't sure exactly what expressions cross his and Skandar's faces, but whatever they are, they make Anna crack up laughing.
"I don't know why you look so worried, I haven't gone out and bought whips and chains or anything."
Will shoots a sideways glance at Skandar, who looks somewhat relieved.
"You didn't go with Tilda again, did you?" says Will. "Because I don't think my brain would be able to take it."
Skandar cradles his head in his hands and makes a sort of whining noise.
"No," she says, giggling. "I can pretty much do this on my own, now. Anyway."
She reaches into the bag. "First of all, lube. I know you have some already, Will, but this is strawberry-flavoured, and I was intrigued."
Will feels himself break into a massive grin, and Skandar looks up, chuckling. "Anna," Will says, shaking his head. How is it possible for her to make that so cute?
She just shrugs at him and tosses him the bottle. "And for Skandar..." she continues, reaching back into the bag.
When she pulls out a packet containing a fairly small dildo, Will almost chokes with laughter, and Skandar's head goes right back into his hands.
"I thought you might want to practise," she says, innocently, holding the packet out in front of her.
Skandar rubs his forehead, then drags his hand back through his hair. "I can't believe you--" he starts, shaking his head. She wiggles the packet and he takes it, a smile reluctantly coming across his lips.
"Believe it," she grins proudly. She reaches back into the bag again. "And for me..."
"A vibrator?" asks Will, peering at the packet that she produces. "Are we not satisfying you, Anna?"
He's joking, and luckily she realises that.
"It's for when you're not around," she says, and he notices that she looks at both of them as she responds, not just him. "How am I supposed to cope without my--"
"I'm scared you're going to start sounding like a romance novel," Skandar interrupts suddenly, "and say something about us being 'stallions' or something, so I'm stopping you there."
She giggles at him, and he smirks at her, and Will watches them, an uneasy feeling rising from his stomach to his throat.
"I think you're getting a little too into this sex shop thing," Skandar is saying, teasingly, picking at the plastic wrapping of the dildo. "Who knows what you could turn up with next time?"
"Whips and chains," says Anna, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "Clearly, it's the next step in this whirlwind of debauchery."
Skandar bites his lip, tilting his head and giving her the most seductive look that Will has ever seen him give anyone. Will's hands form fists in his lap almost of their own accord, and he has the horrible feeling of being a third wheel, left completely out of the conversation, sticking out like a sore thumb.
But then Anna smiles and looks towards the boxes lining the wall. "Okay, enough of this," she says. "Time to get to work!"
* * *
"This isn't what you meant by work, is it," chuckles Will softly against Anna's neck as they lie on his bed less than half an hour later. He and Skandar have thrown on some jeans, but he has the feeling they aren't going to stay on for much longer.
"If your bed had taken the same route as your coffee table and not arrived yet," Anna replies, "I might never have been able to forgive you."
"Lucky break there, Will," Skandar chips in from Anna's other side, his hand casually resting on her stomach. It's all Will can look at.
He kisses her, so that he doesn't have to respond. Her lips are lazy against his, but in the good way, the casual, comfortable way. Even so, he finds him pressing more firmly against her, his tongue sliding dominantly between her lips. Skandar makes a noise, and when Will opens his eyes he sees Anna's hand against the crotch of Skandar's jeans. He stiffens.
In both senses of the word.
Out of everything he's feeling, the confusion is the strongest, and it bothers him that he can't think about it properly, and decide where he stands with it. It's probably just because this new development is so unexpected, but even that is a difficult excuse because it makes him feel so stupid. Did he really think that he would be able to have sex with both of them -- together and separately -- and that they would never do anything without him?
It would be easier, maybe, if the main thing was the jealousy. But it's not. The jealousy is definitely there -- he has to admit that, as much as he hates to -- but it's mixed up with so many other things that it seems hardly relevant.
When he glances down to see Skandar's hand disappearing under Anna's skirt, and Anna's legs spread open wide, her knees bent, he feels his heart sink further. This is the thing -- the other thing, on top of everything else -- whatever the problems are, they're going to be doubled. Not only, now, is he worried about Anna having found a connection with Skandar that he has not (and maybe can not) give her, but it works the other way as well.
What is Skandar thinking? Does he -- as juvenile as it sounds -- fancy Anna more than he fancies Will? Why are neither of them concerned about this? What if they have favourites? Will doesn't, not even slightly. For one thing, there's no way of comparing the two of them. They give him different things, evoke different reactions in him, and it's impossible to pit one against the other. And his feelings are, and always have been, equally strong.
Anna's hand curves gently around his thigh, and she turns, pulling away from Skandar's lips and shuffling around to rest her head against Will's shoulder. She's fiddling with the zip of his jeans and, of course, he's hard, but his thoughts nag at him, not giving up so easily.
Just because he doesn't play favourites doesn't mean that they don't.
"These jeans are stupid," declares Anna, heaving herself up with a long-suffering sigh in order to pay closer attention to the fastenings of his trousers.
"You should wear skirts," suggests Skandar with a smirk. "Easier access."
He wiggles his fingers, and Will can't help but laugh. The thing is, no matter what problems they might be having, they're best friends, and even though he's worrying on the inside, they're making him smile on the outside.
"I'm about five seconds away from resorting to scissors," Anna comments, yanking on the stuck zip.
"You can't be, I have no idea what box they're in," Will tells her.
Anna makes a growl of frustration and gives the zip another sharp tug. "I'll use my teeth then. Honestly."
Skandar laughs. "Oh, give it here."
He crawls over to Will and bends down, peering at the zip, and Will, predictably, feels his cock get even harder, making his jeans feel suddenly much tighter. Skandar notices, and grins up at him.
"I suppose you really want them off now."
"Yes please," says Will in a small voice, looking forlornly down at his jeans.
Skandar wiggles the zip tab around, and then presses his hand flat to Will's crotch (making Will squirm under the touch) and slides the zip down. Finally it comes loose.
"I think there was a thread stuck, or," Skandar mumbles as Will wriggles out of his jeans, his erection free now, bouncing against his stomach as he writhes around, pulling his jeans off his ankles.
When he settles back down, Anna and Skandar are both still crouched over him, and it's almost like they're trying to decide who gets to go first. And he knows how self-centred it sounds, but really, this is the way it should be. Anna wins out, flicking out her tongue to wet her palm before grasping Will's cock firmly, stroking smoothly up and down. He stretches out; sighs.
Of course he wants them to be together too, but he wants it to be himself in the middle, always. Not Anna, not Skandar. It doesn't seem right. Maybe he's only making excuses -- after all, this is the way that's easiest for him, and why should they have to deal with the competition and the jealousy if he doesn't?
"Will, you're zoning out," Skandar informs him suddenly. He runs his hand across Will's stomach, then strokes his fingers down through the dark blonde hair leading to his cock. He nuzzles closer, lips against Will's neck. "Will this help?"
Will shakes his head, but it's not to say 'no', more a physical (and perhaps pointless) attempt to clear his mind. This is okay, he tells himself. These are his best friends, and he is so comfortable with them, and he knows they'll work this out. And right now they want sex, and that's fine by him.
He removes Skandar's jeans in record time, finding him thick and hard beneath the fabric. Suddenly, it's as if the heat has risen and, as Anna stands to undress, Will and Skandar reach for each other's cocks at the same moment, falling together into a kiss. Anna, too, in her desperation, pulls off her knickers but not her skirt, and nearly gets stuck inside a tangle of vest-top and bra in her rush to take them off. And then she's on them with no hesitation, down on all fours and moving back and forth between them, hair tickling their stomachs as she licks and sucks at their cocks.
And Will can feel the dynamic shift once again, dramatically. There's something missing, something gone forever now, and it's between Skandar and Anna. But it's a good thing, really, because now she takes his cock between her lips with no hesitation, and the awkwardness is gone, the unspoken, underlying tension now out in the open. And as many problems as this thing between them has caused him (and may continue to cause him) he really, truly loves to see them together like this.
Not only does it make things complete, make things feel right, but they look so good together, Anna's dark head down between Skandar's legs, her smooth white skin against Skandar's freckled thighs, her plump, shiny lips around his cock and the cheeky, crooked grin Skandar is giving Will right now. Will takes it in, eyes scanning down Skandar's slender chest, and the curve of Anna's bare, round arse visible under her short skirt as it rides up.
And he feels a sudden, unexpected surge of love for them both, and he leans in, tangling his fingers down in Anna's hair and pressing his lips to Skandar's smiling mouth. When they pull apart again, Skandar's smirk is back, and he looks down at Anna, who gently lets him go and lifts her head.
"Which of us do you want?" Skandar asks her, eyeing Will cheekily.
"Oh, god," Anna groans, hands over her face. "Don't do that." She kicks out with her feet, frustrated. "I wish I could have you both."
"Well," says Skandar with a wicked grin, "technically, you can."
Anna shoots him a look. "Um, ow." Her eyes are half-lidded and her lips are swollen from sucking Skandar's cock and it might be the sexiest Will has ever found her. Her banter with Skandar only excites him more.
"Just pointing out that it's an option," Skandar teases. "We're not going to have to flip a fucking coin again, are we?"
"No," says Will. "I know exactly what I want."
"Oh, we all know what that is," Anna giggles.
"Please," says Will, leaning in to Skandar and kissing the corner of his lips softly. "Please let me fuck you."
Skandar purses his lips, considering. "You really, really want to, don't you?"
Will nods. He already knows exactly how this is going to go. He knows Skandar almost as well as he knows himself, now, and he knows that if -- if -- Skandar is really considering this, it's going to be a huge difficulty for him to say so. Because if he lets Will get something he wants -- especially after making it initially clear that he was against the idea -- then it means Will wins.
"Well, I suppose if it means that much to you..." says Skandar eventually, sighing. "But I'm telling you now that I won't enjoy it."
"And I'm telling you that you will," replies Will, smirking.
Before it can turn into an argument, Anna speaks up. "My present seems kind of pointless now," she says, sadly, glancing at the small pile of gifts that Will has moved (helpfully) into the bedroom.
Will laughs. "Hardly. Someone is going to put that dildo to use at some point, Anna, I promise you."
All of their attention is focused on Skandar, of course, which rather goes against Will's desire to always be in the middle, but for now he can make an exception.
"This doesn't smell like strawberries at all," Anna is saying, sniffing the new lube suspiciously.
"Nothing that's meant to be strawberry-flavoured ever does," Will says as he holds out his hand for her to give it to him. She does, and then wriggles out of her skirt, tossing it onto the floor.
"This is just wrong," says Skandar, wrinkling his nose as he eyes the picture of the bright red strawberries on the bottle. When Will pulls Skandar's legs apart, Skandar snorts, looking down at him. "Oh yeah, that's not weird or clinical at all. Would you come up here?"
Will laughs, and obeys, stretching out over Skandar, his head nestled against Skandar's neck. Anna copies, nudging Skandar aside to make room for herself, and she curls herself against his body, resting her head on her hand. Her breasts brush his arm and chest, and the dark hair between her legs presses up against his thigh. She smiles at him, a little curve of her lips, and he smiles back, eyelids low. Will applies the lube, and reaches back down, running his fingers along the length of Skandar's cock lying hot and hard against his stomach, before moving them lower, slick and gentle against puckered skin. He hears Skandar take in a deep breath.
"You okay?" he asks, wanting to make sure before he goes any further.
Skandar rolls his eyes. "Yeah."
When Will presses his finger in, he finds himself trying to imagine that it's just himself he's doing this to, that it's no big deal. But it's Skandar beneath him, all stretched out and sweaty and trusting, and when his finger fills him, the unbelievable tightness surrounding it, Skandar makes a sharp little sound and clutches at Anna's hip, and Will's gone, utterly hopeless, pressing his nose and mouth against the skin of Skandar's neck and doing whatever he can to make Skandar make that noise again.
"Go a bit slower," Skandar murmurs after a moment, his voice slightly strained, and Will does, gentle and rocking with his finger in up to the knuckle, letting Skandar get used to the feeling.
He concentrates, and doesn't realise that he's sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth until Anna points and laughs. He sticks his tongue out further at her, leaning across to flick it across her lips, making her giggle and squirm. Skandar laughs along with them, his eyes bright. He's comfortable. It's okay. Will slides a second finger in alongside the first, kisses Skandar's collarbone, thrusts smoothly and slowly into the tight heat until Skandar is moving with him, quickly, his breathing shallow. And then everything is faster, blurred, Skandar's cock burning hot where it's pressed against Will's arm and Will's mouth open and wet against Skandar's neck.
"Are you ready?" Will whispers, and his cock aches against the jut of Skandar's hip. He tries not to think about the incredible tight heat surrounding his finger and tries not to imagine how it's going to feel around his cock, knowing he'll come instantly if he does.
When Skandar breathes in-out, sharp and quick before nodding rapidly, Will tenses up, trying to control himself. Anna's expression is hard, set, her fingers moving quickly down through the soft dark curls between her legs, her hand bumping Skandar's hip repeatedly. Skandar turns, and their eyes lock as he cups her breast in his hand, his thumb rolling over a rosy nipple. Will's throat is dry. He pulls his fingers out slowly, trying to remember what muscle movements are required for him to sit up.
"You wish," says Skandar suddenly when Will does eventually manage it. He glances up from Anna. "Just because you're topping doesn't mean you have to be on top."
Anna looks puzzled for a moment, then laughs, pressing her mouth to Skandar's shoulder to stifle her laughter. "Oh, Will," she says, then, grinning. "You just can't catch a break."
Skandar sits up straight, pulling Will towards him and kissing him fiercely, a rough wet slide of lips, before turning him around and spreading him out on the bed. And Will feels like he's about to pass out from lack of blood in his brain, when suddenly he realises --
"I have no idea where my condoms are."
Anna looks like she's about to murder him. "What?" she yells. She sits up straight and starts muttering to herself angrily. "Tell me you're kidding. Oh, god, I can't believe I went to a sex shop and I didn't buy condoms. I bought fucking fruit-flavoured lubricant and I didn't buy condoms. I want to die."
Skandar cracks up, but rubs Anna's shoulder soothingly. "It's okay," he says. "I've got some."
He fumbles around for his jeans, and then pulls out a rather impressive strip of condom packets from the pocket. He grins at Anna, and she covers her own grin with her hand, shaking her head at him. Will feels like he's missing something again, and there's that sharp pang of it, the confusing desperation to know both more and less. To both his disappointment and his relief, this secret joke they share goes no further, and Skandar turns back, pulling off a packet and tearing it open.
He swings his head round, shaking his dark fringe out of his eyes -- he really needs a haircut, Will finds himself thinking -- and slides the condom slowly onto Will's cock. The simple slight touch of his fingers is enough to set Will off again, and his heart rate quickens. His cock is practically throbbing when Skandar slicks him up with the lube. Anna just settles down, seemingly content with watching the show. She parts her legs, hand slipping down between them again, and Will is torn between watching her and watching Skandar.
This is not a new struggle, though, and he knows he usually figures it out.
Right now Skandar is straddling him, his head dipped as he reaches behind him for Will's cock, and Will runs his hands up Skandar's thighs to his hips, steadying him. He gazes up, but Skandar isn't looking, too busy concentrating on getting this right. When he tries to lower himself down he nearly loses his balance and grabs the headboard, but then he just grins, shaking his head, and tries again. Will wants to help but he knows Skandar wants as much control of this as possible.
When he feels the head of his cock brush Skandar's arse he hears himself whimper, and Skandar doesn't even react, just slides down gently, hand still keeping Will's cock steady as it pushes inside him. Will gasps, fingers unintentionally tightening around Skandar's skinny hips. It's so tight, tighter than anything he's felt before, and he's hardly able to move. The muscles in Skandar's thighs quiver as he takes Will in, ever so slowly, his brow furrowed and his teeth clenched as he lowers himself down. His focus seems to be entirely on the feeling, and he doesn't look at Will until he's filled, and then his eyes dart up to Will's face and Will feels faint.
Anna makes a slight sound like a sigh next to them, and Will glances towards her, murmuring gently and nonsensically, but Skandar is still and silent, shifting, letting himself get used to this new feeling. After a moment he takes a deep breath in, and spreads his hands out across Will's stomach and up to his chest, letting himself rock forwards a little. And then a little more, until Will feels Skandar's stomach against his cock, trapping it between their bodies. Skandar's lips brush his briefly and then he grins, widely, straightening back up and lifting his hips just the tiniest bit.
The effect it has on Will is incredible. The sudden hot slide around his cock makes him groan and he grasps Skandar's hips again, but Skandar just rises up further, hands flat on the bed now. Will catches him share a glance with Anna, and then his eyes are down, watching himself pull up, nearly off, and then in one smooth glide, back down again. Will feels like he can't even breathe. It takes every single ounce of his self-control not to thrust up into Skandar until he comes. He reaches out for Anna's hand, but Anna's hands are busy.
In fact, they are not busy doing quite what they were doing before. She's not touching herself -- she's opening packets.
"I need batteries," she says after a moment. "Sorry."
Skandar stops moving and Will feels like he might explode. He wipes his forehead, and tries to get his vocal chords to work. "Take the one from the alarm clock. It's in -- no, that, the box -- there -- under the lamp."
As Anna leaps off the bed to start rummaging through boxes, Skandar's eyes meet his again, and he tries to get his breathing rate to return to normal. He fails. Skandar picks up the pace, pushing up-off-down-in, and Will can't help it, he has to move with him, has to buck his hips and fuck, thrust, feel Skandar tight and hot and slick around him and ohgod, it's incredible.
There's a low buzzing and he turns, seeing Anna with her legs spread wide. She's not only using the vibrator, rolling the smooth tip over her clit, but she has the dildo in her other hand, her wrist working as she thrusts it into herself. Will stares. Skandar tightens around him, and Will sees that he's staring too. And not just staring -- after a second, Skandar's hand drags down his stomach and wraps easily around his own cock, tugging and sliding and pulling as he watches Anna flushed and breathless and getting herself off.
"Fuck," Anna whispers, a tiny little breath of a word, and her pale thighs tense and tremble. She looks at both of them, and they look at her, and her hand moves faster, the dildo sliding deep inside her and out, her rhythm almost matching theirs.
"I can't -- I can't," breathes Will shakily, as Skandar starts to move faster, slamming down onto him over and over, grinding his hips and rocking against him, so tight, so good. Skandar just nods and breathes out slowly, a contrast to his frantic movements as his fist becomes a quick blur gliding over his cock.
He almost doesn't want to let go even though he's so close, so so close, because the feeling is amazing and he doesn't want it to end. But now Skandar's hand is slowing, and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his throat is working, his Adam's apple bobbing, and Will knows he's close too. He grips Skandar's hips tighter, heaves his own hips upwards, thrusting into him, and suddenly Skandar's entire body jolts and shudders. He even groans out loud, a long low sound that Will has never heard him make and now wants to commit to memory. He holds Will still inside him, his mouth slack and his fingers moving unsteadily over his cock now as he spurts jerkily across Will's chest.
Will comes from the sight of it, almost passing out from the release. His grip tightens on Skandar's hips, his knuckles whitening, and he feels his orgasm roll through him like waves, pulling him down under with it and leaving him utterly exhausted.
For a while he just can't move at all, and when he opens his eyes, his limbs feeling like lead, he sees Skandar chucking something into an empty box (there's no bin in the room yet) and then crawling back onto the bed to focus on Anna. Anna -- Anna, who is still desperately trying to bring herself off, ever so close, he can tell, but not quite there yet. And when Skandar's hand reaches between her legs, Will is up like a shot, joining him, both of them throwing the toys aside and getting her there themselves.
It's Will's fingers, three of them inside her, and Skandar's tongue against her clit, that gets her there in the end, thrashing against them on the bed, pulling at Skandar's hair. And when they keep going, through the rush of wet heat and the shuddering, she comes again, almost sobbing against the pillow with the force of it.
There is nothing for them to do afterwards but fall asleep.
* * *
When Will wakes up, Skandar is curled, hot and sticky, against him, and Anna is nowhere in sight. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, not recognising the new room for a moment. Then, he gently moves Skandar's arm from where it's draped over him, and crawls out of bed.
In the kitchen, he finds Anna sitting on the counter top and snacking on a packet of crackers. The kettle is boiling, and she's wearing his t-shirt and nothing else.
"Hey," she says with her mouth full, giving him a little wave. "Do you want some tea?"
"Hey," he says, sliding a box out of the way with the side of his foot and crossing the room towards her. "Yes please."
Her lips are covered in crumbs but he presses a kiss to them anyway.
"Skandar still sleeping?" she asks, pressing her fist to her mouth as she finishes chewing. He nods, and she rolls her eyes, grinning. "He gets tired out so easily."
A few weeks ago a statement like that wouldn't have meant much to him, but now it causes that awful tightening in his chest and he wonders why he can't talk about it. Wonders why they haven't talked about it. It seems like it would be so easy to say I know you two slept together but his lips stay shut, the words staying inside his head. It's been like this a lot lately, and he's always been a strong believer in communication, so it's odd that he's keeping so many things inside. He remembers Ben (has been trying to push him to the back of his mind) and wonders why it is that he wants so desperately to keep Ben's visit secret. He rejected him, after all. It's not as though he's been unfaithful, or done anything that Anna or Skandar would be angry with him for.
And yet, he doesn't mention it. Doesn't mention anything. And now here he is with the perfect opportunity, sitting down for a cup of tea with Anna.
They used to talk about everything.
"Mugs?" she asks as the kettle finishes boiling, and he nods, wandering off to the other side of the room in search of the correct box.
It's when she's pouring the milk in that she says it, her hands perfectly steady but her eyes focused downwards.
"I love you."
He curves a hand around her waist, feeling her skin warm under the t-shirt, and presses a soft kiss to her shoulder. "I love you too."
It should matter what she means. The details, the specifics, they should matter. But they don't, because it's them, it's Will and Anna, and Skandar is sleeping back in the bedroom, and Will knows that they can make this work.
If there's one single simple feeling that he has about all of this, it's faith.
Part 6.