Fic: 1+2=The Best Math Ever, or The Motherfucking Threesome of Dooooom) (Nathan/Haley/Brooke; NC-17)
Title: 1+2 = The Best Math Ever, or The Motherfucking Threesome of Doooooom (Part I)
Author: Lee
Pairing: Nathan/Haley/Brooke, and all combinations thereof
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Summary: The night started out like any other-Nathan came home with Chinese takeout and a rented movie-and somehow, by the end, it was a night like she had never experienced before. (This is part one of a multi-part fic.)
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers up to 5x18. Graphic language and sexual situations, including m/f, f/f, and m/f/f.
Author's Notes: Thanks to adis723 and globalfruitbat for their earlier read through of the fic, and to J for her help with the fic. All mistakes are mine.
Author's Notes Deux: For those who gave me shit for writing this fic, I have a secret to share. It's pretty new and apparently not a lot of you know about it, but I'm hoping it'll catch on. *fingers crossed* Psst, lean closer. Okay, ready? If this fic or the pairing doesn't appeal to you, don't read it. I KNOW. Crazy idea, right? I mean, it's not like I'm holding a gun to your head to read the story or anything. So, to sum up: if the idea of a Nathan/Haley/Brooke threesome squicks you, don't read any further. Because yes, you are free to criticize my writing, but I'm not really in the mood for personal attacks, which seems to be the name of the game. I know, that's so silly of me, but let's just put it this way: you bash me for writing this story, I bash you for being an asshat. Sound fair?
The night started out like any other-Nathan came home with Chinese takeout and a rented movie-and somehow, by the end, it was a night like she had never experienced before.
*****
“Hales? I’ve got the food, but Blockbuster didn’t have the movie you wanted so I grabbed Speed,” Nathan called out as he entered their house, dropping his keys on the foyer table.
Jamie was staying with Lucas for the night-his son always loved his time with Uncle Luke-and he and Haley were having a date night, a tradition they started soon after Jamie was born five years ago. With their hectic schedules during college, they were lucky to have date night once a month, which only made each date all the more special. Now that they were on stable ground after the problems of the last several months, from his accident to the incident with Carrie to Jamie’s subsequent abduction and safe return-by Dan, of all people-both vowed to renew this favorite tradition.
“Mmm, Keanu Reeves in his hot phase? Nice,” Haley said as she walked down the stairs, a basket of laundry perched on her hip.
Nathan rolled his eyes but leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips when his wife rose on her tiptoes. As always, the kiss quickly escalated, tongues dueling and laundry basket nearly dropping as Haley pressed closer, but the edge of the DVD package poking into her side soon left Haley backing away and heading towards the laundry room.
Stupid DVD, he thought to himself. He hated whenever anything disrupted a soon-to-be hot and heavy make-out session with Haley. With a five-year-old son running around, Haley’s job teaching and her work on the album with Peyton, and Nathan’s own busy training schedule, their intimate activities were of the quick and fast variety. As much as he loved making love with Haley, he missed their long, drawn-out make-out sessions. Stupid DVD.
“Why don’t you get some plates, I’ll drop this off in the laundry room and we’ll get settled in the den, okay?”
Nathan watched as his wife walked away, her firm ass drawing his eye and causing his groin to tighten. Goddamn, his wife was sexy without even trying.
“Haley James, have I told you lately that you have a serious ass?”
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with the lust that only her husband could inspire, Haley grinned.
“I think you might have mentioned it once or twice.”
******
Haley took a deep breath as she entered the laundry room. How was it that Nathan seemed to grow better looking day by day? Just one look from him, his trademark smirk fully present, and her panties were wet, causing her to feel like some oversexed, hormonal teenager. After six years of marriage, one son, and countless ups and downs, shouldn’t she be more immune to Nathan’s charms?
Apparently not, as evidenced by the current state of her underwear.
Needing some time to calm her raging hormones, she began to sort through the laundry basket, methodically separating the clothes into colors and whites while steadfastly concentrating on anything but Nathan. She tried to remember whether she had grabbed the sheets from Jamie’s bed, and if she finished the grocery list she started earlier that day. She ran through her list of mundane household chores, mentally checking off completed tasks, but her mind screeched to a halt when she grabbed a pair of her husband’s boxers from the basket.
No, she chided herself, you are not thinking about Nathan in his boxers or a naked Nathan. You are separating laundry, thinking of anything but your husband and what happened the other night.
Like how his long fingers tunneled through her hair or teased her pussy.
Or the way his arms banded around her waist, pulling her tightly against his body.
Or how his stomach muscles felt as she ran her tongue down his torso.
Or how his hard cock felt as it entered her in one quick thru-
“Hales? Are you coming?”
Running her hands through her hair, she took another deep breath before exhaling slowly. “God, I wish,” she muttered as she placed the laundry basket on the floor and left the room.
*****
“Oh god, Nathan, faster. . . fast-ohgodohgodohgod. . . “
Nathan sped up the thrust of his fingers as Haley continued to ride his hand. Not even five minutes into the movie, his wife was straddling his lap, her tongue in his mouth as her hand unzipped his pants and began to stroke his cock through his boxers. Not wanting Haley to have all the fun, he managed to pull down her yoga pants enough to grant him access to her panties. Needing to feel her around him and uncaring as to how ungraceful his actions were, he pulled her panties to the side before thrusting two fingers into his wife’s wet pussy as she continued to give him the best hand job since. . . well, the last hand job she gave him. It was rough, it was urgent, and it was so. fucking. hot. The blinds open to anyone passing by the on the street, his wife riding his fingers so desperately , her warm hand slipsliding over his cock. . . it was all so good, and he knew her climax was rapidly approaching but all he could focus on was his own orga--
“HALEY! Are you here?!?”
What the fuck? What the hell was Brooke Davis doing in their house, bursting in like she owned the goddamn place? Haley was frozen on his lap, her eyes wide and terrified at being caught in such a wanton position, and all Nathan could think about was wringing Brooke’s neck because he had been so goddamn close to coming, and making his wife come, and what the goddamn hell was fucking Brooke Davis doing at his house right now?
The click clack of Brooke’s high heels-“stupid, fucking high heels, I hope she trips,” Nathan muttered to himself-had Haley scrambling off his lap and attempting to pull up her pants in order to make herself presentable and not look like a woman who had just been fingerfucked by her husband.
Nathan, unfortunately, was still so wrapped up in cursing Brooke silently that he sat there-“goddamn it, Haley, I’m still fucking rock hard,” he grumbled while staring at his cock, deaf to Haley’s frantic whispers to cover up, just hurry and cover up, Nathan, until a horrified gasp, followed by a shriek of “my eyes, my eyes” snapped him into action. Grabbing the nearest pillow, he hastily placed it over his lap and glanced up to find Brooke, hand over her eyes and still doing her best shrieking harpy impression, stumbling in the hall, and his wife trying to calm their friend down while shooting death glares at Nathan.
Not my fault, he mouthed, although he knew that defense wouldn’t work with Haley. Her glare sharpened. I knew it, he thought to himself.
Goddamn Brooke Davis.
*****
Seriously, has Nathan always been that well-endowed? Yes, it was a shock to walk into their den to find Haley looking like she had just been seriously fucked and Nathan’s dick waving in the air like some kind of flag, and sure, she should have knocked before entering their house, but good lord, she certainly didn’t remember Nathan Jr. being so. . . well, not so junior. Granted, their one time was a drunken mistake their sophomore year of high school, an event Brooke tried not to ever think about, and although he and Peyton had certainly screwed enough while they were dating, Peyton never went into many details beyond, “it was good.”
Well, Brooke certainly knew why Haley was looking so pleased lately. She chalked it up to the rollercoaster that was the Naley relationship finally settling, but the main reason seemed to be, uh, hanging out in the living room. If Brooke had been the recipient of that cock for the last six years, then she understood why Haley married Nathan when they were juniors. As much as she loved Nathan and Haley, and as much as she supported their relationship over the years, she never fully understood why they had gotten married so young.
Now she knew and she didn’t blame Haley one bit.
*****
“God, Haley, I’m so sorry! If I had known Nathan liked to watch TV like that, I never would have barged in.”
Haley nodded, gulping down the rest of the glass of wine that she poured when she led Brooke into the kitchen while Nathan got himself under control. Although she was horribly embarrassed that Brooke caught them in such an intimate situation, particularly Nathan, she couldn’t prevent the flush of want that brightened her cheeks when she thought of how hot he looked sitting on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, hard cock rising from his unzipped pants. His frustrated grimace only made the scene that much hotter because Haley knew that he was desperate for her, and that knowledge was nothing short of arousing.
“-I mean, I have seen it before, although I certainly don’t remember it being that impressive that night and Peyton certainly never said. . . “
Hearing the reminder of Nathan’s previous sexual encounters in high school with her best friends, Haley grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself another healthy glass before offering the bottle to Brooke. She needed to drink this situation out of her mind, as well as the images brought forth with Brooke’s remembrance of the man whore Nathan was before they began dating.
“More wine, Brooke? And less talking about my husband’s privates?”
*****
His grip tightened on the bathroom sink as Nathan recalled the nightmare from a few minutes ago. One minute his fingers were buried in his wife’s cunt, her hand job putting him so close to climaxing; the next, Brooke was flailing about the hallway, shouting about seeing his erection, with whatever action he was going to see long gone.
Why the hell did he not lock the door behind him? And why did he and Haley ever institute that goddamn “open door” policy? From now on, no one was coming over without calling first. Hell, maybe not even without submitting a written request with the specific date and time. No more of this “come on over whenever, you guys. You know you’re always welcome here” bullshit. Not when he was trying to have sex with his wife.
“Damnit,” he muttered to his reflection. He and Haley needed tonight; it wasn’t often they had a free night without Jamie, and Brooke fucking Davis had to ruin it. Although he loved Brooke and was glad to have her back in their lives, especially for Haley and Jamie, right now he wished she had never returned home from New York. Because if she hadn’t, he would be buried in his wife right now, or she would be sucking him off, anything but standing in their hall bathroom, willing his erection down as he once again cursed one of his wife’s best friends’ complete inability to knock.
Grimacing as he recalled his mom’s teasing a few weeks ago-what adolescent boy didn’t try to jack off whenever he could?-he quickly washed his hands and dried them before exiting the small bathroom. He knew Brooke would tease him mercilessly for what happened, and the last thing he needed was to give her more ammunition with an extended stay in the bathroom.
He wondered how quickly he could get Brooke to leave. Throwing her right out on her ass was a definite option, but he knew Haley would disapprove. Maybe he could fake being sick? That might work. . .
Silence surrounded him as he made his way down the hallway into the living room. Maybe Haley convinced Brooke to leave. Maybe the night wasn’t totally ruined. Maybe he’d get lucky after all.
A light bounce in his step at the thought of alone time with his wife, he turned the corner into the living room, expecting to see Haley alone on the couch. He froze at the sight before him, and for a brief instant, he wondered if she slipped some kind of drug into his drink earlier in the evening.
Or maybe Haley took some kind of drug, because how else could he explain what he was seeing?
His wife, his straitlaced, high school teacher wife, was kissing Brooke Davis. No, not just kissing, he amended when he noticed where Haley’s hands were. She was full-on making out with Brooke, and apparently rounding first and approaching second, the way hands were disappearing beneath clothing.
What the hell was going on? And why the hell was he still standing there when two women were about to---good lord, was that Brooke’s hand slipping into Haley’s pants?
*****
To be continued. . .
Part II
Author: Lee
Pairing: Nathan/Haley/Brooke, and all combinations thereof
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Summary: The night started out like any other-Nathan came home with Chinese takeout and a rented movie-and somehow, by the end, it was a night like she had never experienced before. (This is part one of a multi-part fic.)
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers up to 5x18. Graphic language and sexual situations, including m/f, f/f, and m/f/f.
Author's Notes: Thanks to adis723 and globalfruitbat for their earlier read through of the fic, and to J for her help with the fic. All mistakes are mine.
Author's Notes Deux: For those who gave me shit for writing this fic, I have a secret to share. It's pretty new and apparently not a lot of you know about it, but I'm hoping it'll catch on. *fingers crossed* Psst, lean closer. Okay, ready? If this fic or the pairing doesn't appeal to you, don't read it. I KNOW. Crazy idea, right? I mean, it's not like I'm holding a gun to your head to read the story or anything. So, to sum up: if the idea of a Nathan/Haley/Brooke threesome squicks you, don't read any further. Because yes, you are free to criticize my writing, but I'm not really in the mood for personal attacks, which seems to be the name of the game. I know, that's so silly of me, but let's just put it this way: you bash me for writing this story, I bash you for being an asshat. Sound fair?
The night started out like any other-Nathan came home with Chinese takeout and a rented movie-and somehow, by the end, it was a night like she had never experienced before.
*****
“Hales? I’ve got the food, but Blockbuster didn’t have the movie you wanted so I grabbed Speed,” Nathan called out as he entered their house, dropping his keys on the foyer table.
Jamie was staying with Lucas for the night-his son always loved his time with Uncle Luke-and he and Haley were having a date night, a tradition they started soon after Jamie was born five years ago. With their hectic schedules during college, they were lucky to have date night once a month, which only made each date all the more special. Now that they were on stable ground after the problems of the last several months, from his accident to the incident with Carrie to Jamie’s subsequent abduction and safe return-by Dan, of all people-both vowed to renew this favorite tradition.
“Mmm, Keanu Reeves in his hot phase? Nice,” Haley said as she walked down the stairs, a basket of laundry perched on her hip.
Nathan rolled his eyes but leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips when his wife rose on her tiptoes. As always, the kiss quickly escalated, tongues dueling and laundry basket nearly dropping as Haley pressed closer, but the edge of the DVD package poking into her side soon left Haley backing away and heading towards the laundry room.
Stupid DVD, he thought to himself. He hated whenever anything disrupted a soon-to-be hot and heavy make-out session with Haley. With a five-year-old son running around, Haley’s job teaching and her work on the album with Peyton, and Nathan’s own busy training schedule, their intimate activities were of the quick and fast variety. As much as he loved making love with Haley, he missed their long, drawn-out make-out sessions. Stupid DVD.
“Why don’t you get some plates, I’ll drop this off in the laundry room and we’ll get settled in the den, okay?”
Nathan watched as his wife walked away, her firm ass drawing his eye and causing his groin to tighten. Goddamn, his wife was sexy without even trying.
“Haley James, have I told you lately that you have a serious ass?”
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with the lust that only her husband could inspire, Haley grinned.
“I think you might have mentioned it once or twice.”
******
Haley took a deep breath as she entered the laundry room. How was it that Nathan seemed to grow better looking day by day? Just one look from him, his trademark smirk fully present, and her panties were wet, causing her to feel like some oversexed, hormonal teenager. After six years of marriage, one son, and countless ups and downs, shouldn’t she be more immune to Nathan’s charms?
Apparently not, as evidenced by the current state of her underwear.
Needing some time to calm her raging hormones, she began to sort through the laundry basket, methodically separating the clothes into colors and whites while steadfastly concentrating on anything but Nathan. She tried to remember whether she had grabbed the sheets from Jamie’s bed, and if she finished the grocery list she started earlier that day. She ran through her list of mundane household chores, mentally checking off completed tasks, but her mind screeched to a halt when she grabbed a pair of her husband’s boxers from the basket.
No, she chided herself, you are not thinking about Nathan in his boxers or a naked Nathan. You are separating laundry, thinking of anything but your husband and what happened the other night.
Like how his long fingers tunneled through her hair or teased her pussy.
Or the way his arms banded around her waist, pulling her tightly against his body.
Or how his stomach muscles felt as she ran her tongue down his torso.
Or how his hard cock felt as it entered her in one quick thru-
“Hales? Are you coming?”
Running her hands through her hair, she took another deep breath before exhaling slowly. “God, I wish,” she muttered as she placed the laundry basket on the floor and left the room.
*****
“Oh god, Nathan, faster. . . fast-ohgodohgodohgod. . . “
Nathan sped up the thrust of his fingers as Haley continued to ride his hand. Not even five minutes into the movie, his wife was straddling his lap, her tongue in his mouth as her hand unzipped his pants and began to stroke his cock through his boxers. Not wanting Haley to have all the fun, he managed to pull down her yoga pants enough to grant him access to her panties. Needing to feel her around him and uncaring as to how ungraceful his actions were, he pulled her panties to the side before thrusting two fingers into his wife’s wet pussy as she continued to give him the best hand job since. . . well, the last hand job she gave him. It was rough, it was urgent, and it was so. fucking. hot. The blinds open to anyone passing by the on the street, his wife riding his fingers so desperately , her warm hand slipsliding over his cock. . . it was all so good, and he knew her climax was rapidly approaching but all he could focus on was his own orga--
“HALEY! Are you here?!?”
What the fuck? What the hell was Brooke Davis doing in their house, bursting in like she owned the goddamn place? Haley was frozen on his lap, her eyes wide and terrified at being caught in such a wanton position, and all Nathan could think about was wringing Brooke’s neck because he had been so goddamn close to coming, and making his wife come, and what the goddamn hell was fucking Brooke Davis doing at his house right now?
The click clack of Brooke’s high heels-“stupid, fucking high heels, I hope she trips,” Nathan muttered to himself-had Haley scrambling off his lap and attempting to pull up her pants in order to make herself presentable and not look like a woman who had just been fingerfucked by her husband.
Nathan, unfortunately, was still so wrapped up in cursing Brooke silently that he sat there-“goddamn it, Haley, I’m still fucking rock hard,” he grumbled while staring at his cock, deaf to Haley’s frantic whispers to cover up, just hurry and cover up, Nathan, until a horrified gasp, followed by a shriek of “my eyes, my eyes” snapped him into action. Grabbing the nearest pillow, he hastily placed it over his lap and glanced up to find Brooke, hand over her eyes and still doing her best shrieking harpy impression, stumbling in the hall, and his wife trying to calm their friend down while shooting death glares at Nathan.
Not my fault, he mouthed, although he knew that defense wouldn’t work with Haley. Her glare sharpened. I knew it, he thought to himself.
Goddamn Brooke Davis.
*****
Seriously, has Nathan always been that well-endowed? Yes, it was a shock to walk into their den to find Haley looking like she had just been seriously fucked and Nathan’s dick waving in the air like some kind of flag, and sure, she should have knocked before entering their house, but good lord, she certainly didn’t remember Nathan Jr. being so. . . well, not so junior. Granted, their one time was a drunken mistake their sophomore year of high school, an event Brooke tried not to ever think about, and although he and Peyton had certainly screwed enough while they were dating, Peyton never went into many details beyond, “it was good.”
Well, Brooke certainly knew why Haley was looking so pleased lately. She chalked it up to the rollercoaster that was the Naley relationship finally settling, but the main reason seemed to be, uh, hanging out in the living room. If Brooke had been the recipient of that cock for the last six years, then she understood why Haley married Nathan when they were juniors. As much as she loved Nathan and Haley, and as much as she supported their relationship over the years, she never fully understood why they had gotten married so young.
Now she knew and she didn’t blame Haley one bit.
*****
“God, Haley, I’m so sorry! If I had known Nathan liked to watch TV like that, I never would have barged in.”
Haley nodded, gulping down the rest of the glass of wine that she poured when she led Brooke into the kitchen while Nathan got himself under control. Although she was horribly embarrassed that Brooke caught them in such an intimate situation, particularly Nathan, she couldn’t prevent the flush of want that brightened her cheeks when she thought of how hot he looked sitting on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, hard cock rising from his unzipped pants. His frustrated grimace only made the scene that much hotter because Haley knew that he was desperate for her, and that knowledge was nothing short of arousing.
“-I mean, I have seen it before, although I certainly don’t remember it being that impressive that night and Peyton certainly never said. . . “
Hearing the reminder of Nathan’s previous sexual encounters in high school with her best friends, Haley grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself another healthy glass before offering the bottle to Brooke. She needed to drink this situation out of her mind, as well as the images brought forth with Brooke’s remembrance of the man whore Nathan was before they began dating.
“More wine, Brooke? And less talking about my husband’s privates?”
*****
His grip tightened on the bathroom sink as Nathan recalled the nightmare from a few minutes ago. One minute his fingers were buried in his wife’s cunt, her hand job putting him so close to climaxing; the next, Brooke was flailing about the hallway, shouting about seeing his erection, with whatever action he was going to see long gone.
Why the hell did he not lock the door behind him? And why did he and Haley ever institute that goddamn “open door” policy? From now on, no one was coming over without calling first. Hell, maybe not even without submitting a written request with the specific date and time. No more of this “come on over whenever, you guys. You know you’re always welcome here” bullshit. Not when he was trying to have sex with his wife.
“Damnit,” he muttered to his reflection. He and Haley needed tonight; it wasn’t often they had a free night without Jamie, and Brooke fucking Davis had to ruin it. Although he loved Brooke and was glad to have her back in their lives, especially for Haley and Jamie, right now he wished she had never returned home from New York. Because if she hadn’t, he would be buried in his wife right now, or she would be sucking him off, anything but standing in their hall bathroom, willing his erection down as he once again cursed one of his wife’s best friends’ complete inability to knock.
Grimacing as he recalled his mom’s teasing a few weeks ago-what adolescent boy didn’t try to jack off whenever he could?-he quickly washed his hands and dried them before exiting the small bathroom. He knew Brooke would tease him mercilessly for what happened, and the last thing he needed was to give her more ammunition with an extended stay in the bathroom.
He wondered how quickly he could get Brooke to leave. Throwing her right out on her ass was a definite option, but he knew Haley would disapprove. Maybe he could fake being sick? That might work. . .
Silence surrounded him as he made his way down the hallway into the living room. Maybe Haley convinced Brooke to leave. Maybe the night wasn’t totally ruined. Maybe he’d get lucky after all.
A light bounce in his step at the thought of alone time with his wife, he turned the corner into the living room, expecting to see Haley alone on the couch. He froze at the sight before him, and for a brief instant, he wondered if she slipped some kind of drug into his drink earlier in the evening.
Or maybe Haley took some kind of drug, because how else could he explain what he was seeing?
His wife, his straitlaced, high school teacher wife, was kissing Brooke Davis. No, not just kissing, he amended when he noticed where Haley’s hands were. She was full-on making out with Brooke, and apparently rounding first and approaching second, the way hands were disappearing beneath clothing.
What the hell was going on? And why the hell was he still standing there when two women were about to---good lord, was that Brooke’s hand slipping into Haley’s pants?
*****
To be continued. . .
Part II