Fic: Of Dead Butterflies (Logan/Veronica/Duncan) NC-17
Title: Of Dead Butterflies
Author: rejeneration, but you can call me Jen.
Pairing/Character: The OT3, folks - Veronica/Logan/Duncan
Word Count: 7065
Rating: NC-17 for drug usage, language and sex like woah
Summary: What happens when, instead of imploding, the trio winds in tighter? Lots of firsts, all from Logan's POV.
Spoilers: AU. No brother-sister woes, no Shelley Pomeroy, no rape. Only one dead Lilly Kane.
A/N: I wrote this for someone very special to me; she knows who she is. No matter what I say about her, it’s bound to make her blush… so I’ll keep it short and sweet, just as long as she knows what an effort it was! -smirk-
A/N 2: Sweet betaery kisses go to the ever charming, ever incredible, always brilliant rindee. She rarely believes me, even when I cross my heart and hope to die, but she has the Midas touch. Everything she betas turns to… well, anyway, any issues remaining ... obviously my own.
It’s not like your best friend to be picking your pills, but he shakes his hand in front of you, smiling sadly, his eyes gone terribly lifeless over the past ninety days. He swallows his, cheeking it first with a scarcely murmured, “Just do it,” then chases it down.
You flip yours over in your hand, weighing the Nike symbol stamped heavily on its side before you swallow the hit; at least you’re both on the same fucking page. Dull the pain, dull the pain… this is the philosophy by which you live and die. You’ll bury it under pharmaceuticals and Macallan, and be damn sure it’s better that way.
Duncan drifts across the darkened pool house towards the long bank of windows. They’re exceptionally black, apart from the pallid translucence of the deck lights dotting the landscape here and there. Relatively hidden in the shadows, Veronica’s been staring out at the pool for almost an hour now, transfixed by memories. It doesn’t take a genius to see what she’s seeing, a visualization of her perpetually overactive imagination; the gruesome images of that night… the night they lost their sister, their lover, their best friend.
When Duncan reaches out, he draws his fingers down her spine with a ghosting touch, barely-there. She takes a shaky breath, her body jolting, but even with the subtle suggestion of his hand, her gaze is unbroken, still seeing blood and bone and the mess of Lilly’s skull cracked open, brains spattered across concrete. You all see it these days: Duncan’s version clouded by manufactured euphoria, your's doubled-down with liquor day and night. Veronica’s is different though… hers is inalterable -- awake or asleep, drunk or sober, she sees Lilly Kane everywhere.
You watch DK snake his hands around her hips, veering them together over the sharp-cut bone of her pelvis before he locks them in place. He rests his chin on her shoulder and you're caught in their web, like you always are, the two of them like china dolls: empty, angelic faces reflected in the glass. He slowly rocks her, and you take in their sway, matching it by shifting on the balls of your feet.
That’s the way it’s been between you for the past three months: a heartbreaking synchronicity, barely holding a balance. It seems like things should be held together by a negligible string, yet none of you are waiting for it to snap. One of you already broke, so you’ve all gone on lockdown, tangling around each other to ward off any further disaster. Duncan looks after you when you’re too wasted to stay conscious; Veronica looks after Duncan when he’s fall-over drunk. She’s just suddenly there, holding your hand when you can’t fight off the tears, and you and DK take turns pulling back her hair when she pukes, the bile refusing to stay down.
One night when you’re stoned, you stroke your hand through all that pretty blonde and marvel when she heaves confetti, bright and shiny fragments that glitter ‘round the bowl. You’re fascinated by what this girl can still produce, even after all this time, and how even when sick, she's still cotton candy, her sweet and light veneer not completely stripped away.
Somehow she manages to make looking haunted beautiful. You never really thought about it, until Lilly kept on, goading you over and over again while riding your cock. But Lilly fucking loved the idea of getting you off to the mere mention of her best friend’s name, taunting you with Veronica’s virginity, her purity, her honey so sweet on the back of your tongue. Of course you’ve never really tasted Veronica, but that hasn’t stopped you from wondering or imaging, and if Lilly ever bothered to ask you if you had, you certainly wouldn’t deny it.
But it’s more than just lust that makes you feel whatever it is you’ve felt these last few months. It’s fidelity binding you. Fidelity and devotion tying the three of you together, even closer now, as you hold onto one another while the rest of the world falls apart.
You’re not letting either of them go; you’re Logan Fucking Echolls, you’ve been through more shit than most realize, and if the plan is to take the four of you down, one at a time, whoever the fucker is, they’re gonna have to come through you first. You’d made the mistake of leaving Lilly alone, not that you’d had much choice in the matter, such was the way of Lilly Kane. But lose Veronica or Duncan? You’ll tear the son of a bitch in half without a backwards glance. You’ve never really shown anyone the kind of a psychotic jackass you’re capable of being, but you’re not above doing what you have to do to keep them both alive.
“Hey, let’s do something,” Duncan suggests softly, steering Veronica away from her silent void. It's the code you've been using for distracting her, so you meet near the bed, a bottle in your hand and three glasses clenched between your fingers.
Pouring Veronica’s first, just a small shot into the bottom of a highball glass, you splash soda and watch it fizzle. She smiles light, sharing the same washed-out smile as Duncan, and, when she takes her drink, you try not to let your fingers idle too long over hers. Duncan’s shot comes next. He’s a lightweight, and you don’t particularly feel like babysitting tonight, so you cut him off after two fingers. You fill your glass like you’re drinking water, and lean back on the bed, surveying them both, waiting for Duncan to come up with a plan.
Neither of you really play video games anymore. You’re both too preoccupied with keeping Veronica away from the windows… away from empty hours staring out at nothing… away from starving herself to death because she can’t remember to eat. You watch Duncan swig the whiskey quick, looking at you for more. You shake your head once and twist the cap back on the bottle. Alcohol and X are never a good combination, and even though the pill hasn’t hit either of you yet, it will. Trying to secure your glass, you twist it deep into the carpeting at the foot of the bed, and smirk a little as you discover Veronica sorting through your CD’s. “Oh God, what are you going to force us to listen to now, Mars?”
Her smile is slightly caged, a little more “normal” than anything recent, and she wings The Virgin Suicides soundtrack at your head. Catching it with a chuckle, you make to throw it in the trash and she yelps, flinging herself at you while you hold it over her head, taunting her with the jewel case just slightly out of her reach. DK stands back, glancing at the two of you, a wry twitch of the muscles in his face. The expression is foreign, something you’ve never seen him wear before, but Veronica draws your attention away.
Finally, you relent and hand over the CD, DK sliding in behind to nuzzle her neck while she shows him her prize. He nods approvingly, grazing his lips up the column of her throat, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it is, she shuts her eyes, leaning back into him. You’re obviously staring, but they never seem to mind, and you love to watch him touch her. The three of you have shared small intimacies since your number declined, not that your cock hadn’t gotten rock hard seeing Lilly wind her tongue around Veronica’s one night in a limo, but things are different now. The ways you’re together, they’re deeper, stronger, slowly building towards something more.
“Are you sure you want to?” DK murmurs and she nods, her eyes still closed. He’s not convinced, because he keeps pushing. “You don’t have to, you know. I just want you to feel good.” All of his words are softly spoken, as gentle as a caress to her bare skin.
“I’m sure,” she whispers, but when her eyes flash open they’re focused on you. Duncan pulls the drink out of her hand and pushes her forward until she’s standing right in front of you. You’re still not sure what’s going on, but you’re all about going with the flow these days… As long as no one’s dying, everything’s golden.
“Hey man,” he huffs, opening his hand over yours to drop the last blue pill into your palm. He returns his attention to Veronica’s neck and she gasps a little, looking up at you with such explicit innocence. She opens her mouth enough so you can see the pink of her tongue, the gleaming white of her teeth, and you raise it to her lips, but Duncan groans curtly and you stop.
Lifting a mocking brow - you really want me to shotgun your girlfriend, dude? - you slip the pill onto your tongue and tip her chin. Duncan resumes his careful tease, sliding his lips along her neck, ostensibly happier with this method of delivery, and you try to hide the tremble in your hands when you cup her face.
She opens a little wider, hot breath flickering across your bottom lip, and without warning she swipes her tongue over yours and the pill. You push it into her mouth, trying not to moan when you chase against the slick resistance.
Slipping back a step, breath a little heavier, you give her the chance to swallow. She does and that’s that; her hummingbird metabolism will make short work of it. Both you and Duncan know it’s not going to take her long, and it’s going to be a first for her. Duncan’s already feeling his, and you’ll be the last to go.
Fifteen minutes later, as she’s still rifling through your CD’s, her eyes float shut and you can almost see her start to roll. The overwhelming sensation probably catches her at the center, lazily sprawling in every direction through her veins. You’re in front of her when she opens her eyes, a look of panic sewn within, and you gently ease her against you. “Everything’s alright, Veronica. We’re here. I’m here,” you correct.
Your name cracks into two harsh syllables when she says it, so you wrap your arm around her and shoulder her weight towards the bed. “C’mon, Tiger, just take a slow breath and let it out,” you grin. She does what you tell her; you’re the star she’s guided by these days, and it makes you warm everywhere, the way she’s come to depend on you. “That’s my girl,” you whisper, tipping her chin with a lift of your finger, so she can see you smile. “Where do you feel it?”
“Right here,” she mumbles, pressing her hand to her stomach. You’re expecting Duncan to chime in at any moment, for him to play his part, but he's vacantly staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost to his own high.
“Here?” you whisper, dropping your gaze to her hand, slowly making circles over her fingers as you duck your head. “Should I take a look?” You smirk at her, give her a suggestive little wink, but she skims the gossamer fabric up her belly and shows you a stretch of perfect skin.
The gesture draws Duncan’s attention, and he kneels up from his place on the bed, pressing his chest to her back. “What’s the matter baby?” he lulls against her temple. “Shut your eyes… and just feel it, Veronica. Don’t think too much. Don’t be afraid. Just feel it.”
Open trust is etched across her face, Veronica following Duncan’s directive. Her eyes flutter shut and she sags against him, Duncan eying you intently. He starts kissing her; first her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, his gaze cemented on you the whole time, fingers gradually creeping up her ribs. “How’s it feel now?”
“Good… so good,” she gasps; you can plainly see the effort, “like falling through the stars.”
“Now open your eyes,” he murmurs gently, his hands skirting further up her torso, elevating her shirt in the process. Every translucent inch he reveals reminds you how of fragile she is; nearly a phantom herself.
You’re a voyeur in their presence, and you start to think about walking away, but Duncan won’t break contact, and the expression on his face is telling you not to go. When Veronica opens her eyes, DK’s fingers drifting over the scarcely visible satin of her bra, she fixes you with so much emotion you have to brace yourself. “You want him, don’t you?”
She turns away, a blush creeping crimson across her sallow cheekbones. She’s biting into her bottom lip, innocence, guilt, and what you think might be desire, all mixing together. “It’s okay,” DK soothes, coaxing his fingers lightly over her skin, prying himself off the mattress. “I’m not mad. You know I’m not mad. I want to him, too. But then again, who doesn’t want the Great Logan Echolls?” Duncan laughs, a quiet and unsure rumble in his chest. You’re still not breathing, and the shock will surely kill you, but Veronica’s gaze settles back on you. Together they weigh your reaction, the two of them standing before you, waiting anxiously for you to condemn or absolve them.
Taking a step forward, gauging the fear in Duncan’s eyes, you slowly sweep your fingers across Veronica’s cheek. You’re starting to wonder if Duncan and Veronica played the same games you and Lilly had, but it becomes less important when you sweep your sticky lips over the corner of Veronica’s mouth. “Is this what you want?” you question in a half breath.
Duncan closes in on the opposite side, and she whimpers when you split the difference; the two of you simultaneously prying her mouth open with your tongues. “Kiss us, Veronica,” DK pants, wrapping her hair behind her shoulder. She does, winding one arm around his neck and the other around yours, pulling you both closer until you’re forced to link yourselves together; Duncan’s hand on your hip, yours around Veronica’s waist, the other gradually staking claim on Duncan’s, too. They’re so warm around you, you could melt into their heat.
Veronica suddenly pulls back, leaving you partially kissing Duncan. You both break to look at her, then one another, and, without considering the future awkwardness it might bring, you slant your mouth over his and kiss him like you kissed his dead sister a hundred times before. It’s hard but close-mouthed, bruising, then you divide his lips with the slick insistence of your tongue. He groans and you swallow it, lick another from his mouth, mold him against you with the rough persistence of your hand. You rake your fingernails through the fine hair at the nape of his neck, memorizing the way he shudders in your arms.
Leaning back, you survey him, his eyes shut, lids fluttering, cheeks brightly pink. Your lip quirks as you wait for him to open his eyes, to look at you, and when he does, he’s surprised and awed and completely at ease, just the way you wanted. “Dude,” he huffs, smiling at a hundred-thousand watts, choking out a chuckle, before dragging his hand across his face.
“Good?” It should be criminal to be this arrogant.
“In a word,” he laughs, palming his hand up and down Veronica’s arm.
You reroute your attention to her, measuring her reaction by sliding the tips of your fingers underneath the hem of her shirt. “Your turn,” you smirk. Her arm tightens defensively around Duncan, she’s holding him like a lifeline, maybe a little afraid to have your interest fused solely on her. You think about reassuring her, but you’re you; you pour your intensity into the way you move, and that’s how you’ll show her.
“Come here,” you order, stealing her from Duncan’s embrace, hooking your fingers around her hips. She takes a quivering breath, actually breathing in twice before the exhale, and looks up at you with uncertainty. Your dose starts to take you as you bend toward her, grazing her lips, the palpable rush bleating your pulse. “Fuck,” you whimper, only partially separating your mouths to say it. She gasps with the vibration and you seize the opportunity, hoisting her up against you, trying to kiss the sensation right into her soul.
The kiss isn’t painful, but desperate. You’ve wanted to do this for the longest time, and she’s susceptible to your aegis. Her tentative fingers dig into your sides, and you start thinking about the possibility of Veronica making new wounds over the old. How you might be able to replace the past with the kind of pain she’d willingly hand out.
You’re not sure whose fingers are responsible for raising your shirt, whether it’s Duncan who initiates it, or Veronica, with her delicate touch, but it’s definitely her fingers roaming across your stomach, and unquestionably DK who grabs and tugs it off. Each one stands at a side, and, as if the whole thing was premeditated, stroke their hands from your hips to your ribs. They’re seducing you, making you hard and breathless.
Insecurity flashes through Duncan’s eyes and he bends between your legs, picking up the glass you stuck into the carpeting. Before you can intervene, he slams a mouthful, shaking his head with an amplified groan. “Hey, easy,” you say, easing the glass out of his grip. “Trust me, you’ll regret it.” Liquid courage; Duncan needs it to take the next step.
When he shakes off the aftereffect, still at your side, he drags his fingers over your waist and starts to unbuckle your belt. Taking a deep breath, you note your best friend is undoing your zipper with trembling hands, his dick straining hard against your hip.
Swallowing, you try to wet your mouth gone dry, but it doesn’t seem to work, your sandpaper tongue doing little to sate your lips. Veronica watches you with so much fascination you think she’s trying to burn the look on your face into memory; biting into her lip as her eyes shift focus to your throat.
Her hard-set gaze swings to her boyfriend, skimming the jeans down your hips, tugging your boxer-briefs with it, and it suddenly registers that, in about two seconds, if you don’t stop him, you’re going to be naked in front of both. Raising your fingers, you tenderly still his, lightly caressing them into your sides to comfort and keep him there. His hands stay where you’ve placed them, leaving you free to slowly tease the white strap of Veronica’s shirt down her arm. She falls into you, letting you murmur into the shell of her ear, “God, I want to touch you.”
The other strap slips off her shoulder, disturbed by its twin. You trip your hand behind her, glide the shirt over her head, make short work of her jeans. She’s blushing everywhere, shivering against your chest. You wrap your arms around her to keep her warm. Your lips fall just beneath her ear, you kiss against her racing pulse and she throws her head back, wrapping her arms around your neck, hands in your hair. Duncan breaks away from your hips and glides his hands up her back, joining yours, the two of you moving in on her, separate and united at intervals over her naked skin.
It occurs to you that all of this would happen more naturally if you were on the bed, so you slide her backward and let her fall. . She lies down, her bra and panties pristine white against her pallid skin. You look at her for a long moment, mentally tracing your descent from her mouth to her breasts to her stomach. The choker at your neck feels tight… constraining, so you swallow hard and turn to look your best friend in the eye.
You don’t know why you’ve never seen it before, Duncan’s need to feel your skin on his, but it’s so utterly clear now. His hands are shaking, just as yours had been before touching Veronica, and he can’t quite hold your gaze. There’s too much guilt for even considering this - Jesus, what would Celeste think? - not to mention insecurity and doubt; all components you know to be a part of him. You wonder if you're bad for wanting to reassure him instead of stopping him. It’s not that you’ve never thought about another guy as a viable option, you’d probably fuck anyone with whom you had reciprocal chemistry; it’s just never really come up. Duncan’s done a pretty good job of hiding his feelings for you. Sure, there’d been the random kid stuff, jacking off together, in separate twin beds that weekend in Vale, but you never knew he’d had so much blind need until he pressed against your back.
So when you turn on him and it’s all naked in front of you, and he’s looking like he might collapse under the weight of the admission, you only want to soothe him. Of course, the carnal part of you that wants to own him, not as a notch, but as someone who has chosen you. You grab his sweater by the edge and pull it over his head, bunching it up into an exaggerated wad before you toss it to the floor. You stand back and appraise him, licking your lips just so he can see your appetite in return.
It’s naturally your move, so you make it by stepping into him, shifting your hand down his spine, at the same time you lick a hot stripe up his neck. He’s salty but sweet, smells like aftershave and cologne. “I never knew man,” you sigh. “I never knew.”
His gasp is erratic, chest almost hyperventilating against yours, his desperation convincing you to push him further. You touch your tongue just below his chin, scraping your lips across stubble. “You should have told me. I’d have had you on your knees years ago.” Duncan’s helpless groan reverberates and you know you’ve got him. “On your knees, swallowing my come,” you add, dumping fuel all over the fire. Your words are quiet enough that they’re torturous for Duncan, but completely unheard by Veronica.
When you pull away, his eyes are shimmering and you know you’ve got his number: Duncan will kneel before you, wrap his delicate lips around your dick, and probably beg for more after you shoot down his throat. If only things were that simple. You can’t just satisfy Duncan. When you turn, you see Veronica has sort of folded in on herself, her hands drawn up under her arms to cover her chest.
You wrap your arm around Duncan's hip and dip forward, lacing your fingers in hers to stretch one arm away. “Look at how beautiful she is,” you murmur, raking your gaze over her body. Her breasts are smaller than Lilly’s were, yes, but they’re perfect. Perfect for her, perfect for you, you realize, gliding your warm palm across the contour of the exposed one. “Isn’t she beautiful?” You look at Duncan, see the love and desire shining deep in his eyes.
“Yes,” he intones, thick with emotion, nodding his head. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Pushing him forward, he lies down beside her, drawing her other arm away from her hidden breast. You watch him kiss the hand he holds captive. You start on the other, slowly licking your tongue against her index finger, tracking her as she divvies her attention, first turning her gaze to Duncan, then you. He’s at her throat by the time you’ve worked your way to her elbow, and she’s sucking air by the lungful, releasing it in reckless, broken hisses. He presses himself into her side, and you lean back just to watch the two of them as he suckles her pulse-point, one hand tweaking her nipple, his other slip-sliding down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs.
Tentatively, he dips his hand underneath the waistband of her panties -- and you can’t break away from what he’s doing. Consumed by the possible heat of her body, you stiffen when he pushes a finger up inside her, and you hover near her mouth, prepared for the little cry that’ll escape. You kiss her just as she whimpers, surprising her that you’re there and expecting it, gliding your tongue over hers as she awakens. Her hands stroke feverishly over your cheekbones, dragging through your hair, pulling you in tighter. She grinds her hips up, the two of you framing her, one on either side, and you’re sure neither of you fail to recognize how small she is beneath you.
You’re not sure how far this is going to go, but you’re willing to find out; your cock so hard it’s painful. Scooting into her, you tilt her face with the full weight of your hand and kiss her neck, licking velvet streaks up her throat, nipping at her lips. Duncan’s finger works her dangerously slow, and you skate the beds of your nails down the same path he took, sneaking under the fabric, too. You’re memorizing the details, burning them into your brain, the first time you touched her silken curls. She’s so wet, everywhere, slick and hot. You want to taste her more than you’ve ever wanted anything, including your dead girlfriend alive and well again.
This is like a team sport, and you’ve never been any good with passing on a play. There’s no “I” in team and you’re all about the fucking “I.” But you press the smirk of lips into her neck again, at the same time swiping your middle finger over her clit, and bask in the sudden acceleration of her breathing as it falls labored at your ear. You whisper into hers, wanting her full attention, “I’m going to make you come, Veronica.”
For the past ten minutes, her eyes have been fluttering open and closed, back and forth between you and Duncan, both of you being nothing but deliberate; you’ve got no place to go and all day to get there. She opens her eyes though, and you see something that makes you feel like she’s punched you in the gut. So much emotion - lust, anger, intense pain, and for Christ’s fucking sake - love. It’s not love for Duncan, no, this is love held just for you. She doesn’t have to say it, you can see it. “I’m right here,” you continue. “Let go, Veronica. You’re safe, we’ve got you." Where Duncan thrives on being dominated, you’d bet your inheritance she only wants to feel guarded, protected, secure, and never have you been more willing to become someone’s asylum. "Just let go for me, come around my hand. I need to taste you.”
“Come,” you whisper, forcing it out in a breath you know she can feel, “Say my name, Veronica,” you order gently, twirling two fingers around her slick clit. She shakes and gasps, then weeps to the heavens when you both bring her there, splintering your name in two quick huffs.
Duncan opens startling blue eyes to study her, and you soak in the scene, ceasing the motion of your hand, just watching him watch her like he’s never seen her orgasm. It strikes you, maybe he hasn’t, maybe they’ve been too nervous, too inexperienced. This might be something you can teach them.
You deftly slide your hand away, pausing briefly before you lick the taste of her off your drenched fingers. She tastes just like you’d imagined, and you savor her slippery fluid, keenly aware of your best friend following suit. The two of you groan simultaneously and look down on her flushed skin, her calm azure eyes, the smile that washes out all the dread of these last few months. You don’t think you’ve ever been happier.
Stretching your arm out underneath your head, you curl into her side, her hand trapped and tangling in your hair. She shifts her hip, making contact with your cock and you try, without much success, to stifle the low moan of pleasure you’re deriving. You’re sure DK's in the same predicament, but you just want a few seconds to linger in the vast contentment invading your chest. This isn’t just drug-induced joy; it’s like being suddenly complete. A strange sort of contentment that’s unexpectedly found its way into your all-too-fucked-up-life.
Veronica breaches your reflection, turning on her side to face you. Her hair spreads across her arm in an ethereal blanket, as she cuddles up to you, graceful and alluring. She traces the curves and lines of your face with just the tips of her fingers. “Thank you,” she mouths, and leans in to kiss you. It’s such a small, chaste thing and when she pulls away, she whispers in your ear. “He needs you.”
Propping yourself on your elbow, you reach across Veronica, easily tucking her into your side, tormenting yourself further with her closeness, while you slide two fingers down DK’s sternum. “He needs us,” you amend, leaning down to kiss the curve of her shoulder. Your dictate prompts her to roll over, her ass bumping your rigid cock in the process. You’re dying here, and she has no clue she’s causing you so much pain.
Together you pop all three buttons on his 501’s. You don’t know what’s going to happen once you have him naked, but Duncan lifts his hips and helps you both remove the rest of his clothes. He lies naked, flesh red from fear and humility, looking at you both with far too much anxiety. With tender hands you encourage Veronica to Duncan’s other side, and sidle up to the one that’s free. His cock is half-hard, and you can tell by his face that he’ll most likely pass out as soon as he gets off.
“I hate it when you look so smug,” he smiles, but you know it’s a lie. He loves it. He loves it so much you kiss him with the smile still in place, roll your tongue around his, ply him with enough of your sensuality to move him past edgy into full on arousal.
His dick gets harder the rougher you are, fucking your tongue over his cherry-ripe lips. From your vantage point, you study Veronica, the way she wraps her mouth around the full head of his cock, taking her sweet time to slip down his shaft, working one hand up towards her lips. Her cheeks hollow out when she pulls back up, licking sloppily around the head again before sinking back down. He groans weakly, barely moving, too afraid he might somehow hurt Veronica in the process. It’s your turn for sad smiles, creeping down his side to find her, biting your way across his exposed hipbone. The second bite has him straining, so you lick into the crease of his thigh and cup his balls, stretching the skin so taut across them that he instantly goes rigid. “Fuck, Logan,” he gasps, and you know he’s close.
Veronica bobs in abbreviated jerks, tugging with inexperienced hands, but her sophistication in this area isn't a problem; Duncan's hot and hard and ready. You know what’ll force him over, so you suck on your index finger, stretch the stiff ring of skin, and slide your finger up inside him.
"Oh fucking God, Logan," he groans.
You have no idea if she’s ready for it, but you send DK rocketing over the ledge, his hips leaping off the bed. Veronica catches the first part, stunned, gaping at you, so you cup your hand around the back of her neck and suck his come out of her mouth, swallowing the salty thickness of it. Your other hand catches Duncan’s cock, riding out the rest of his climax until there's no more. He shivers violently under her hand, your thumb gliding across the few sticky strands, smearing the rest of his load into his skin.
Blowing out a heavy breath, one you’ve been holding since before the kiss, you smile; the two of them twisting in towards one another, her hands folded beneath her chin, his reaching around to hold her close. You stand as quietly as you can, pull the corners of the comforter over them, and redress, walking to the glass door. You’re having a hard time believing what just happened here. Everything’s changed, your best friends transforming it all, and there’s a part of you that’s a little worried the light of dawn will bring about the ruin of one more thing you’re not prepared to lose. You’ve lost enough -- not that you ever had a whole lot to begin with -- but losing them in the process of trying to find yourself seems more than unfair.
A small whisk of metal, the door sliding over the track, is all that separates you from the night. The air is icy, waking you up, making you clasp your sleeves around your wrists. You have so much restless energy; it's sexual and kinetic, pushing you further into the black. The subtle emptiness that’s been hollowing your insides has been replaced by hope, meaning, and a new fear. You feel like you could run a marathon fueled by adrenaline, optimism and the shred of doubt about your future, but as amped up as you are, you’d rather go back to bed, find your way in between them, see what it might be like to fall asleep in the soft curve of Veronica’s body and the hard, flat chest of your oldest friend.
You strip off everything except the boxer-briefs. They part effortlessly when they feel your presence, Veronica’s hand dropping away from Duncan’s shoulder just long enough to allow you to slip-slide between them. Then Duncan groans against your neck, tugging your hip in tight against his, and Veronica’s breath feathers over your throat when she snuggles into you. It doesn’t take long for every rhythm to analogue: heartbeats, breathing, the rise and fall of both your chests, her breasts. Flanked by their warmth you drift off, thinking of the wicked glint in her eyes and the sly twist of her lips. If only Lil could see you now.
From your position, there’s no clock visible in the pool house, but it’s still dark when the shift and rustle on the bed wakes you up. Hands stroke down your thighs, the right one smaller than the left, and when you raise your head from the curve of your arm, both Veronica and Duncan smile back at you.
“Hey,” Duncan whispers.
“Hey,” you mumble back, holding in a sigh that might elongate the word when Duncan’s hand skims further towards its goal.
It’s a graceful motion, the two of them working in tandem to get you to lift off the bed so they can get you naked. Even though you were able to fall asleep, your cock continued to throb, spooned up against Veronica’s ass. You could have taken matters into your own hands, but then you might not have gotten to live out this scenario, and what a tragedy that would have been.
Veronica crawls toward you, devious and sweet, the perfect mixture of virtue and sin. She plays it like you did earlier, waits for her boyfriend to suck you into his mouth then kisses you with the small sound clinging at the back of your throat. She toys her tongue over yours, and you reach up to cradle the back of her head, trying to bring more of her into the kiss. At the same time, Duncan slips your cock out of his mouth with a noisy pop and makes it his mission to lick his saliva away from your superheated flesh.
You shudder, look into Veronica’s eyes, your lower lip trembling. She spreads her hand across your chest and leans down. Her small teeth set into your lip and she tugs with a smile, forcing you to groan. Duncan goes back to licking the head of your cock, sucking the shining tip; you try to watch him, but you can’t quite see through the curtain of golden hair blocking the view. Veronica flicks her tongue around your nipple, sucking slowly, so you thread your fingers through the strands; bring her close enough to hear the hammer of your heart.
Duncan slurps noisily, then gulps around you, and you’re so close to breaking you can only think about letting go. But the two of them move, a small dance of bodies, and Veronica hovers over your aching cock, rubbing her soft, slick mound over you with Duncan at her back. They float over you, Duncan’s hand on her hip, purposefully angling her towards you, his other hand strumming her clit. You’re so close to gone, you can’t think straight, and for a fraction of a second you almost let it go down this way, but then you jerk upright, palming your hands over her breasts.
“No,” you huff on an exhale. “Not this way. Not your first time.” You shake your head, lick your lips, blow out a lungful of air. The pain is exquisite now. You just want to come, but there’s no way you’re going to take Veronica’s virginity and have her do all the work. It should be… it should be perfect.
“Are you sure?” you whisper, rolling over, dragging her underneath you. Duncan leverages himself against your back; you can feel his hard cock leaving a slick trail over your thigh.
“Yes,” she breathes, so beautifully open, looking up at you like she’ll always trust you, always believe in you, never lose faith in the person she thinks you are. “Please,” she quietly begs.
“Okay. Relax for me, just breathe,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss her while you slowly slip a finger up inside her. She pants, delicate puffs of air, as you play with her. “Touch yourself, Veronica,” you hum into her ear. “Show me how you get yourself off.”
Her skin blazes; you can feel her flush with embarrassment, as much as with arousal, your finger working inside her. But she does what she's told, lithely skimming her finger in small circles around the outside of her clit. “That’s it. Just like that.” She whimpers when you watch, then Duncan tucks himself into your sides and laps her nipple into his mouth. She arches back, straining against your hand, trembling uneasily as the very thin barrier begins to break. Taking your cock into your hand, you settle between her thighs, resting the tip against her wet entrance. Her eyes fly open, a brief moment of hesitation, fear. “It’s okay,” you whisper, kissing her throat, pressing your lips to her ear. “This can wait. Tell me you want to wait, Veronica, and we will.”
Your rock hard dick bumps against her clit with the grinding of her hips, her fingers furiously stroking herself into a frenzy. Duncan bucks against your thigh, his breath falling harsh on your shoulder, and you have to close your eyes to keep from exploding from sensory overload. That’s when the most amazing thing happens. Veronica slips her hand around yours, guiding you inside her. You try to go slow, she’s so small and tight, but gravity and your best friend pushing against your spine forces you through her hymen - she closes her eyes, narrowing her lips around a scream - until you’re buried inside her. “Jesus, Veronica,” you groan. It feels so good, too good to feel ashamed, but you do. You’re hurting her, her face masked by pain, her breath coming in tiny, ruptured gasps. “I’m sorry,” you soothe, brushing your hand across her forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you, Veronica. Let me make you feel good.”
She hiccups, with a small nod. Lifting her hips underneath you, she tests the solid muscle deep within her. “No,” you blurt, but the slight grimace crowning the corner of her mouth vanishes, little by little, so you go out on a limb and pull away from her a fraction of an inch. When you slide back, she bites into her lip, but her hands wrap around your biceps and she blows out an unsteady breath, eyes shining into yours. “Oh fuck, Veronica. You feel so… so good. ” Your muscles shake under the intensity of every drive, balancing on your forearms. You angle closer to her, desperate to feel her breath on your skin.
“More,” she quivers, a whimper falling hot against your neck, her body glistening with the exertion. “Oh… God.” She sounds so helpless.
Duncan leans into you, finds your ear and grunts, “I’m going to come, Logan.” He trembles next to the two of you, his hand fisting over his dick, and you slip as far out of Veronica as she’ll allow, before falling back towards her. She’s still flicking her fingers over her clit, only stopping briefly to will away the pain, but now her back bends toward you, her breasts heaving as she fights to refill her lungs.
“God! Veronica, Logan!” Duncan cries, then groans loudly, his semen running hot down your ass.
Veronica gasps, and you level your hips hard against her, your arm wrapped behind her head, the other in the small of her back, bringing her with you on these last few thrusts. “Loh-. Lohhhh-gahhn,” she pants, the walls of her pussy clamping down around you, small shudders convulsing them.
“Oh God, Veronica, please come, baby.” You don’t have to tell her you’re not going to last even a minute longer, because she’s there, too, teetering on the edge, and with one final drive she joins you, both of you arching - her off the bed, you bending backwards braced by your arms. The symphony all three of you create together is obscene, but you love it. You love them.
You're bone tired, muscle sore, a week and a half away from Christmas, but you can't imagine ever getting anything that'll compare to the gift of the two of them wrapped around you. You're at the center, the very heart of it, arms and legs twisted around yours until you can’t tell where you stop and they begin. Nothing will ever come close to these feelings - happiness, joy, strength, devotion, love. You'll live each day to protect them, and maybe, if you're lucky, they'll do the same for you.
Author: rejeneration, but you can call me Jen.
Pairing/Character: The OT3, folks - Veronica/Logan/Duncan
Word Count: 7065
Rating: NC-17 for drug usage, language and sex like woah
Summary: What happens when, instead of imploding, the trio winds in tighter? Lots of firsts, all from Logan's POV.
Spoilers: AU. No brother-sister woes, no Shelley Pomeroy, no rape. Only one dead Lilly Kane.
A/N: I wrote this for someone very special to me; she knows who she is. No matter what I say about her, it’s bound to make her blush… so I’ll keep it short and sweet, just as long as she knows what an effort it was! -smirk-
A/N 2: Sweet betaery kisses go to the ever charming, ever incredible, always brilliant rindee. She rarely believes me, even when I cross my heart and hope to die, but she has the Midas touch. Everything she betas turns to… well, anyway, any issues remaining ... obviously my own.
It’s not like your best friend to be picking your pills, but he shakes his hand in front of you, smiling sadly, his eyes gone terribly lifeless over the past ninety days. He swallows his, cheeking it first with a scarcely murmured, “Just do it,” then chases it down.
You flip yours over in your hand, weighing the Nike symbol stamped heavily on its side before you swallow the hit; at least you’re both on the same fucking page. Dull the pain, dull the pain… this is the philosophy by which you live and die. You’ll bury it under pharmaceuticals and Macallan, and be damn sure it’s better that way.
Duncan drifts across the darkened pool house towards the long bank of windows. They’re exceptionally black, apart from the pallid translucence of the deck lights dotting the landscape here and there. Relatively hidden in the shadows, Veronica’s been staring out at the pool for almost an hour now, transfixed by memories. It doesn’t take a genius to see what she’s seeing, a visualization of her perpetually overactive imagination; the gruesome images of that night… the night they lost their sister, their lover, their best friend.
When Duncan reaches out, he draws his fingers down her spine with a ghosting touch, barely-there. She takes a shaky breath, her body jolting, but even with the subtle suggestion of his hand, her gaze is unbroken, still seeing blood and bone and the mess of Lilly’s skull cracked open, brains spattered across concrete. You all see it these days: Duncan’s version clouded by manufactured euphoria, your's doubled-down with liquor day and night. Veronica’s is different though… hers is inalterable -- awake or asleep, drunk or sober, she sees Lilly Kane everywhere.
You watch DK snake his hands around her hips, veering them together over the sharp-cut bone of her pelvis before he locks them in place. He rests his chin on her shoulder and you're caught in their web, like you always are, the two of them like china dolls: empty, angelic faces reflected in the glass. He slowly rocks her, and you take in their sway, matching it by shifting on the balls of your feet.
That’s the way it’s been between you for the past three months: a heartbreaking synchronicity, barely holding a balance. It seems like things should be held together by a negligible string, yet none of you are waiting for it to snap. One of you already broke, so you’ve all gone on lockdown, tangling around each other to ward off any further disaster. Duncan looks after you when you’re too wasted to stay conscious; Veronica looks after Duncan when he’s fall-over drunk. She’s just suddenly there, holding your hand when you can’t fight off the tears, and you and DK take turns pulling back her hair when she pukes, the bile refusing to stay down.
One night when you’re stoned, you stroke your hand through all that pretty blonde and marvel when she heaves confetti, bright and shiny fragments that glitter ‘round the bowl. You’re fascinated by what this girl can still produce, even after all this time, and how even when sick, she's still cotton candy, her sweet and light veneer not completely stripped away.
Somehow she manages to make looking haunted beautiful. You never really thought about it, until Lilly kept on, goading you over and over again while riding your cock. But Lilly fucking loved the idea of getting you off to the mere mention of her best friend’s name, taunting you with Veronica’s virginity, her purity, her honey so sweet on the back of your tongue. Of course you’ve never really tasted Veronica, but that hasn’t stopped you from wondering or imaging, and if Lilly ever bothered to ask you if you had, you certainly wouldn’t deny it.
But it’s more than just lust that makes you feel whatever it is you’ve felt these last few months. It’s fidelity binding you. Fidelity and devotion tying the three of you together, even closer now, as you hold onto one another while the rest of the world falls apart.
You’re not letting either of them go; you’re Logan Fucking Echolls, you’ve been through more shit than most realize, and if the plan is to take the four of you down, one at a time, whoever the fucker is, they’re gonna have to come through you first. You’d made the mistake of leaving Lilly alone, not that you’d had much choice in the matter, such was the way of Lilly Kane. But lose Veronica or Duncan? You’ll tear the son of a bitch in half without a backwards glance. You’ve never really shown anyone the kind of a psychotic jackass you’re capable of being, but you’re not above doing what you have to do to keep them both alive.
“Hey, let’s do something,” Duncan suggests softly, steering Veronica away from her silent void. It's the code you've been using for distracting her, so you meet near the bed, a bottle in your hand and three glasses clenched between your fingers.
Pouring Veronica’s first, just a small shot into the bottom of a highball glass, you splash soda and watch it fizzle. She smiles light, sharing the same washed-out smile as Duncan, and, when she takes her drink, you try not to let your fingers idle too long over hers. Duncan’s shot comes next. He’s a lightweight, and you don’t particularly feel like babysitting tonight, so you cut him off after two fingers. You fill your glass like you’re drinking water, and lean back on the bed, surveying them both, waiting for Duncan to come up with a plan.
Neither of you really play video games anymore. You’re both too preoccupied with keeping Veronica away from the windows… away from empty hours staring out at nothing… away from starving herself to death because she can’t remember to eat. You watch Duncan swig the whiskey quick, looking at you for more. You shake your head once and twist the cap back on the bottle. Alcohol and X are never a good combination, and even though the pill hasn’t hit either of you yet, it will. Trying to secure your glass, you twist it deep into the carpeting at the foot of the bed, and smirk a little as you discover Veronica sorting through your CD’s. “Oh God, what are you going to force us to listen to now, Mars?”
Her smile is slightly caged, a little more “normal” than anything recent, and she wings The Virgin Suicides soundtrack at your head. Catching it with a chuckle, you make to throw it in the trash and she yelps, flinging herself at you while you hold it over her head, taunting her with the jewel case just slightly out of her reach. DK stands back, glancing at the two of you, a wry twitch of the muscles in his face. The expression is foreign, something you’ve never seen him wear before, but Veronica draws your attention away.
Finally, you relent and hand over the CD, DK sliding in behind to nuzzle her neck while she shows him her prize. He nods approvingly, grazing his lips up the column of her throat, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it is, she shuts her eyes, leaning back into him. You’re obviously staring, but they never seem to mind, and you love to watch him touch her. The three of you have shared small intimacies since your number declined, not that your cock hadn’t gotten rock hard seeing Lilly wind her tongue around Veronica’s one night in a limo, but things are different now. The ways you’re together, they’re deeper, stronger, slowly building towards something more.
“Are you sure you want to?” DK murmurs and she nods, her eyes still closed. He’s not convinced, because he keeps pushing. “You don’t have to, you know. I just want you to feel good.” All of his words are softly spoken, as gentle as a caress to her bare skin.
“I’m sure,” she whispers, but when her eyes flash open they’re focused on you. Duncan pulls the drink out of her hand and pushes her forward until she’s standing right in front of you. You’re still not sure what’s going on, but you’re all about going with the flow these days… As long as no one’s dying, everything’s golden.
“Hey man,” he huffs, opening his hand over yours to drop the last blue pill into your palm. He returns his attention to Veronica’s neck and she gasps a little, looking up at you with such explicit innocence. She opens her mouth enough so you can see the pink of her tongue, the gleaming white of her teeth, and you raise it to her lips, but Duncan groans curtly and you stop.
Lifting a mocking brow - you really want me to shotgun your girlfriend, dude? - you slip the pill onto your tongue and tip her chin. Duncan resumes his careful tease, sliding his lips along her neck, ostensibly happier with this method of delivery, and you try to hide the tremble in your hands when you cup her face.
She opens a little wider, hot breath flickering across your bottom lip, and without warning she swipes her tongue over yours and the pill. You push it into her mouth, trying not to moan when you chase against the slick resistance.
Slipping back a step, breath a little heavier, you give her the chance to swallow. She does and that’s that; her hummingbird metabolism will make short work of it. Both you and Duncan know it’s not going to take her long, and it’s going to be a first for her. Duncan’s already feeling his, and you’ll be the last to go.
Fifteen minutes later, as she’s still rifling through your CD’s, her eyes float shut and you can almost see her start to roll. The overwhelming sensation probably catches her at the center, lazily sprawling in every direction through her veins. You’re in front of her when she opens her eyes, a look of panic sewn within, and you gently ease her against you. “Everything’s alright, Veronica. We’re here. I’m here,” you correct.
Your name cracks into two harsh syllables when she says it, so you wrap your arm around her and shoulder her weight towards the bed. “C’mon, Tiger, just take a slow breath and let it out,” you grin. She does what you tell her; you’re the star she’s guided by these days, and it makes you warm everywhere, the way she’s come to depend on you. “That’s my girl,” you whisper, tipping her chin with a lift of your finger, so she can see you smile. “Where do you feel it?”
“Right here,” she mumbles, pressing her hand to her stomach. You’re expecting Duncan to chime in at any moment, for him to play his part, but he's vacantly staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost to his own high.
“Here?” you whisper, dropping your gaze to her hand, slowly making circles over her fingers as you duck your head. “Should I take a look?” You smirk at her, give her a suggestive little wink, but she skims the gossamer fabric up her belly and shows you a stretch of perfect skin.
The gesture draws Duncan’s attention, and he kneels up from his place on the bed, pressing his chest to her back. “What’s the matter baby?” he lulls against her temple. “Shut your eyes… and just feel it, Veronica. Don’t think too much. Don’t be afraid. Just feel it.”
Open trust is etched across her face, Veronica following Duncan’s directive. Her eyes flutter shut and she sags against him, Duncan eying you intently. He starts kissing her; first her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, his gaze cemented on you the whole time, fingers gradually creeping up her ribs. “How’s it feel now?”
“Good… so good,” she gasps; you can plainly see the effort, “like falling through the stars.”
“Now open your eyes,” he murmurs gently, his hands skirting further up her torso, elevating her shirt in the process. Every translucent inch he reveals reminds you how of fragile she is; nearly a phantom herself.
You’re a voyeur in their presence, and you start to think about walking away, but Duncan won’t break contact, and the expression on his face is telling you not to go. When Veronica opens her eyes, DK’s fingers drifting over the scarcely visible satin of her bra, she fixes you with so much emotion you have to brace yourself. “You want him, don’t you?”
She turns away, a blush creeping crimson across her sallow cheekbones. She’s biting into her bottom lip, innocence, guilt, and what you think might be desire, all mixing together. “It’s okay,” DK soothes, coaxing his fingers lightly over her skin, prying himself off the mattress. “I’m not mad. You know I’m not mad. I want to him, too. But then again, who doesn’t want the Great Logan Echolls?” Duncan laughs, a quiet and unsure rumble in his chest. You’re still not breathing, and the shock will surely kill you, but Veronica’s gaze settles back on you. Together they weigh your reaction, the two of them standing before you, waiting anxiously for you to condemn or absolve them.
Taking a step forward, gauging the fear in Duncan’s eyes, you slowly sweep your fingers across Veronica’s cheek. You’re starting to wonder if Duncan and Veronica played the same games you and Lilly had, but it becomes less important when you sweep your sticky lips over the corner of Veronica’s mouth. “Is this what you want?” you question in a half breath.
Duncan closes in on the opposite side, and she whimpers when you split the difference; the two of you simultaneously prying her mouth open with your tongues. “Kiss us, Veronica,” DK pants, wrapping her hair behind her shoulder. She does, winding one arm around his neck and the other around yours, pulling you both closer until you’re forced to link yourselves together; Duncan’s hand on your hip, yours around Veronica’s waist, the other gradually staking claim on Duncan’s, too. They’re so warm around you, you could melt into their heat.
Veronica suddenly pulls back, leaving you partially kissing Duncan. You both break to look at her, then one another, and, without considering the future awkwardness it might bring, you slant your mouth over his and kiss him like you kissed his dead sister a hundred times before. It’s hard but close-mouthed, bruising, then you divide his lips with the slick insistence of your tongue. He groans and you swallow it, lick another from his mouth, mold him against you with the rough persistence of your hand. You rake your fingernails through the fine hair at the nape of his neck, memorizing the way he shudders in your arms.
Leaning back, you survey him, his eyes shut, lids fluttering, cheeks brightly pink. Your lip quirks as you wait for him to open his eyes, to look at you, and when he does, he’s surprised and awed and completely at ease, just the way you wanted. “Dude,” he huffs, smiling at a hundred-thousand watts, choking out a chuckle, before dragging his hand across his face.
“Good?” It should be criminal to be this arrogant.
“In a word,” he laughs, palming his hand up and down Veronica’s arm.
You reroute your attention to her, measuring her reaction by sliding the tips of your fingers underneath the hem of her shirt. “Your turn,” you smirk. Her arm tightens defensively around Duncan, she’s holding him like a lifeline, maybe a little afraid to have your interest fused solely on her. You think about reassuring her, but you’re you; you pour your intensity into the way you move, and that’s how you’ll show her.
“Come here,” you order, stealing her from Duncan’s embrace, hooking your fingers around her hips. She takes a quivering breath, actually breathing in twice before the exhale, and looks up at you with uncertainty. Your dose starts to take you as you bend toward her, grazing her lips, the palpable rush bleating your pulse. “Fuck,” you whimper, only partially separating your mouths to say it. She gasps with the vibration and you seize the opportunity, hoisting her up against you, trying to kiss the sensation right into her soul.
The kiss isn’t painful, but desperate. You’ve wanted to do this for the longest time, and she’s susceptible to your aegis. Her tentative fingers dig into your sides, and you start thinking about the possibility of Veronica making new wounds over the old. How you might be able to replace the past with the kind of pain she’d willingly hand out.
You’re not sure whose fingers are responsible for raising your shirt, whether it’s Duncan who initiates it, or Veronica, with her delicate touch, but it’s definitely her fingers roaming across your stomach, and unquestionably DK who grabs and tugs it off. Each one stands at a side, and, as if the whole thing was premeditated, stroke their hands from your hips to your ribs. They’re seducing you, making you hard and breathless.
Insecurity flashes through Duncan’s eyes and he bends between your legs, picking up the glass you stuck into the carpeting. Before you can intervene, he slams a mouthful, shaking his head with an amplified groan. “Hey, easy,” you say, easing the glass out of his grip. “Trust me, you’ll regret it.” Liquid courage; Duncan needs it to take the next step.
When he shakes off the aftereffect, still at your side, he drags his fingers over your waist and starts to unbuckle your belt. Taking a deep breath, you note your best friend is undoing your zipper with trembling hands, his dick straining hard against your hip.
Swallowing, you try to wet your mouth gone dry, but it doesn’t seem to work, your sandpaper tongue doing little to sate your lips. Veronica watches you with so much fascination you think she’s trying to burn the look on your face into memory; biting into her lip as her eyes shift focus to your throat.
Her hard-set gaze swings to her boyfriend, skimming the jeans down your hips, tugging your boxer-briefs with it, and it suddenly registers that, in about two seconds, if you don’t stop him, you’re going to be naked in front of both. Raising your fingers, you tenderly still his, lightly caressing them into your sides to comfort and keep him there. His hands stay where you’ve placed them, leaving you free to slowly tease the white strap of Veronica’s shirt down her arm. She falls into you, letting you murmur into the shell of her ear, “God, I want to touch you.”
The other strap slips off her shoulder, disturbed by its twin. You trip your hand behind her, glide the shirt over her head, make short work of her jeans. She’s blushing everywhere, shivering against your chest. You wrap your arms around her to keep her warm. Your lips fall just beneath her ear, you kiss against her racing pulse and she throws her head back, wrapping her arms around your neck, hands in your hair. Duncan breaks away from your hips and glides his hands up her back, joining yours, the two of you moving in on her, separate and united at intervals over her naked skin.
It occurs to you that all of this would happen more naturally if you were on the bed, so you slide her backward and let her fall. . She lies down, her bra and panties pristine white against her pallid skin. You look at her for a long moment, mentally tracing your descent from her mouth to her breasts to her stomach. The choker at your neck feels tight… constraining, so you swallow hard and turn to look your best friend in the eye.
You don’t know why you’ve never seen it before, Duncan’s need to feel your skin on his, but it’s so utterly clear now. His hands are shaking, just as yours had been before touching Veronica, and he can’t quite hold your gaze. There’s too much guilt for even considering this - Jesus, what would Celeste think? - not to mention insecurity and doubt; all components you know to be a part of him. You wonder if you're bad for wanting to reassure him instead of stopping him. It’s not that you’ve never thought about another guy as a viable option, you’d probably fuck anyone with whom you had reciprocal chemistry; it’s just never really come up. Duncan’s done a pretty good job of hiding his feelings for you. Sure, there’d been the random kid stuff, jacking off together, in separate twin beds that weekend in Vale, but you never knew he’d had so much blind need until he pressed against your back.
So when you turn on him and it’s all naked in front of you, and he’s looking like he might collapse under the weight of the admission, you only want to soothe him. Of course, the carnal part of you that wants to own him, not as a notch, but as someone who has chosen you. You grab his sweater by the edge and pull it over his head, bunching it up into an exaggerated wad before you toss it to the floor. You stand back and appraise him, licking your lips just so he can see your appetite in return.
It’s naturally your move, so you make it by stepping into him, shifting your hand down his spine, at the same time you lick a hot stripe up his neck. He’s salty but sweet, smells like aftershave and cologne. “I never knew man,” you sigh. “I never knew.”
His gasp is erratic, chest almost hyperventilating against yours, his desperation convincing you to push him further. You touch your tongue just below his chin, scraping your lips across stubble. “You should have told me. I’d have had you on your knees years ago.” Duncan’s helpless groan reverberates and you know you’ve got him. “On your knees, swallowing my come,” you add, dumping fuel all over the fire. Your words are quiet enough that they’re torturous for Duncan, but completely unheard by Veronica.
When you pull away, his eyes are shimmering and you know you’ve got his number: Duncan will kneel before you, wrap his delicate lips around your dick, and probably beg for more after you shoot down his throat. If only things were that simple. You can’t just satisfy Duncan. When you turn, you see Veronica has sort of folded in on herself, her hands drawn up under her arms to cover her chest.
You wrap your arm around Duncan's hip and dip forward, lacing your fingers in hers to stretch one arm away. “Look at how beautiful she is,” you murmur, raking your gaze over her body. Her breasts are smaller than Lilly’s were, yes, but they’re perfect. Perfect for her, perfect for you, you realize, gliding your warm palm across the contour of the exposed one. “Isn’t she beautiful?” You look at Duncan, see the love and desire shining deep in his eyes.
“Yes,” he intones, thick with emotion, nodding his head. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Pushing him forward, he lies down beside her, drawing her other arm away from her hidden breast. You watch him kiss the hand he holds captive. You start on the other, slowly licking your tongue against her index finger, tracking her as she divvies her attention, first turning her gaze to Duncan, then you. He’s at her throat by the time you’ve worked your way to her elbow, and she’s sucking air by the lungful, releasing it in reckless, broken hisses. He presses himself into her side, and you lean back just to watch the two of them as he suckles her pulse-point, one hand tweaking her nipple, his other slip-sliding down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs.
Tentatively, he dips his hand underneath the waistband of her panties -- and you can’t break away from what he’s doing. Consumed by the possible heat of her body, you stiffen when he pushes a finger up inside her, and you hover near her mouth, prepared for the little cry that’ll escape. You kiss her just as she whimpers, surprising her that you’re there and expecting it, gliding your tongue over hers as she awakens. Her hands stroke feverishly over your cheekbones, dragging through your hair, pulling you in tighter. She grinds her hips up, the two of you framing her, one on either side, and you’re sure neither of you fail to recognize how small she is beneath you.
You’re not sure how far this is going to go, but you’re willing to find out; your cock so hard it’s painful. Scooting into her, you tilt her face with the full weight of your hand and kiss her neck, licking velvet streaks up her throat, nipping at her lips. Duncan’s finger works her dangerously slow, and you skate the beds of your nails down the same path he took, sneaking under the fabric, too. You’re memorizing the details, burning them into your brain, the first time you touched her silken curls. She’s so wet, everywhere, slick and hot. You want to taste her more than you’ve ever wanted anything, including your dead girlfriend alive and well again.
This is like a team sport, and you’ve never been any good with passing on a play. There’s no “I” in team and you’re all about the fucking “I.” But you press the smirk of lips into her neck again, at the same time swiping your middle finger over her clit, and bask in the sudden acceleration of her breathing as it falls labored at your ear. You whisper into hers, wanting her full attention, “I’m going to make you come, Veronica.”
For the past ten minutes, her eyes have been fluttering open and closed, back and forth between you and Duncan, both of you being nothing but deliberate; you’ve got no place to go and all day to get there. She opens her eyes though, and you see something that makes you feel like she’s punched you in the gut. So much emotion - lust, anger, intense pain, and for Christ’s fucking sake - love. It’s not love for Duncan, no, this is love held just for you. She doesn’t have to say it, you can see it. “I’m right here,” you continue. “Let go, Veronica. You’re safe, we’ve got you." Where Duncan thrives on being dominated, you’d bet your inheritance she only wants to feel guarded, protected, secure, and never have you been more willing to become someone’s asylum. "Just let go for me, come around my hand. I need to taste you.”
“Come,” you whisper, forcing it out in a breath you know she can feel, “Say my name, Veronica,” you order gently, twirling two fingers around her slick clit. She shakes and gasps, then weeps to the heavens when you both bring her there, splintering your name in two quick huffs.
Duncan opens startling blue eyes to study her, and you soak in the scene, ceasing the motion of your hand, just watching him watch her like he’s never seen her orgasm. It strikes you, maybe he hasn’t, maybe they’ve been too nervous, too inexperienced. This might be something you can teach them.
You deftly slide your hand away, pausing briefly before you lick the taste of her off your drenched fingers. She tastes just like you’d imagined, and you savor her slippery fluid, keenly aware of your best friend following suit. The two of you groan simultaneously and look down on her flushed skin, her calm azure eyes, the smile that washes out all the dread of these last few months. You don’t think you’ve ever been happier.
Stretching your arm out underneath your head, you curl into her side, her hand trapped and tangling in your hair. She shifts her hip, making contact with your cock and you try, without much success, to stifle the low moan of pleasure you’re deriving. You’re sure DK's in the same predicament, but you just want a few seconds to linger in the vast contentment invading your chest. This isn’t just drug-induced joy; it’s like being suddenly complete. A strange sort of contentment that’s unexpectedly found its way into your all-too-fucked-up-life.
Veronica breaches your reflection, turning on her side to face you. Her hair spreads across her arm in an ethereal blanket, as she cuddles up to you, graceful and alluring. She traces the curves and lines of your face with just the tips of her fingers. “Thank you,” she mouths, and leans in to kiss you. It’s such a small, chaste thing and when she pulls away, she whispers in your ear. “He needs you.”
Propping yourself on your elbow, you reach across Veronica, easily tucking her into your side, tormenting yourself further with her closeness, while you slide two fingers down DK’s sternum. “He needs us,” you amend, leaning down to kiss the curve of her shoulder. Your dictate prompts her to roll over, her ass bumping your rigid cock in the process. You’re dying here, and she has no clue she’s causing you so much pain.
Together you pop all three buttons on his 501’s. You don’t know what’s going to happen once you have him naked, but Duncan lifts his hips and helps you both remove the rest of his clothes. He lies naked, flesh red from fear and humility, looking at you both with far too much anxiety. With tender hands you encourage Veronica to Duncan’s other side, and sidle up to the one that’s free. His cock is half-hard, and you can tell by his face that he’ll most likely pass out as soon as he gets off.
“I hate it when you look so smug,” he smiles, but you know it’s a lie. He loves it. He loves it so much you kiss him with the smile still in place, roll your tongue around his, ply him with enough of your sensuality to move him past edgy into full on arousal.
His dick gets harder the rougher you are, fucking your tongue over his cherry-ripe lips. From your vantage point, you study Veronica, the way she wraps her mouth around the full head of his cock, taking her sweet time to slip down his shaft, working one hand up towards her lips. Her cheeks hollow out when she pulls back up, licking sloppily around the head again before sinking back down. He groans weakly, barely moving, too afraid he might somehow hurt Veronica in the process. It’s your turn for sad smiles, creeping down his side to find her, biting your way across his exposed hipbone. The second bite has him straining, so you lick into the crease of his thigh and cup his balls, stretching the skin so taut across them that he instantly goes rigid. “Fuck, Logan,” he gasps, and you know he’s close.
Veronica bobs in abbreviated jerks, tugging with inexperienced hands, but her sophistication in this area isn't a problem; Duncan's hot and hard and ready. You know what’ll force him over, so you suck on your index finger, stretch the stiff ring of skin, and slide your finger up inside him.
"Oh fucking God, Logan," he groans.
You have no idea if she’s ready for it, but you send DK rocketing over the ledge, his hips leaping off the bed. Veronica catches the first part, stunned, gaping at you, so you cup your hand around the back of her neck and suck his come out of her mouth, swallowing the salty thickness of it. Your other hand catches Duncan’s cock, riding out the rest of his climax until there's no more. He shivers violently under her hand, your thumb gliding across the few sticky strands, smearing the rest of his load into his skin.
Blowing out a heavy breath, one you’ve been holding since before the kiss, you smile; the two of them twisting in towards one another, her hands folded beneath her chin, his reaching around to hold her close. You stand as quietly as you can, pull the corners of the comforter over them, and redress, walking to the glass door. You’re having a hard time believing what just happened here. Everything’s changed, your best friends transforming it all, and there’s a part of you that’s a little worried the light of dawn will bring about the ruin of one more thing you’re not prepared to lose. You’ve lost enough -- not that you ever had a whole lot to begin with -- but losing them in the process of trying to find yourself seems more than unfair.
A small whisk of metal, the door sliding over the track, is all that separates you from the night. The air is icy, waking you up, making you clasp your sleeves around your wrists. You have so much restless energy; it's sexual and kinetic, pushing you further into the black. The subtle emptiness that’s been hollowing your insides has been replaced by hope, meaning, and a new fear. You feel like you could run a marathon fueled by adrenaline, optimism and the shred of doubt about your future, but as amped up as you are, you’d rather go back to bed, find your way in between them, see what it might be like to fall asleep in the soft curve of Veronica’s body and the hard, flat chest of your oldest friend.
You strip off everything except the boxer-briefs. They part effortlessly when they feel your presence, Veronica’s hand dropping away from Duncan’s shoulder just long enough to allow you to slip-slide between them. Then Duncan groans against your neck, tugging your hip in tight against his, and Veronica’s breath feathers over your throat when she snuggles into you. It doesn’t take long for every rhythm to analogue: heartbeats, breathing, the rise and fall of both your chests, her breasts. Flanked by their warmth you drift off, thinking of the wicked glint in her eyes and the sly twist of her lips. If only Lil could see you now.
From your position, there’s no clock visible in the pool house, but it’s still dark when the shift and rustle on the bed wakes you up. Hands stroke down your thighs, the right one smaller than the left, and when you raise your head from the curve of your arm, both Veronica and Duncan smile back at you.
“Hey,” Duncan whispers.
“Hey,” you mumble back, holding in a sigh that might elongate the word when Duncan’s hand skims further towards its goal.
It’s a graceful motion, the two of them working in tandem to get you to lift off the bed so they can get you naked. Even though you were able to fall asleep, your cock continued to throb, spooned up against Veronica’s ass. You could have taken matters into your own hands, but then you might not have gotten to live out this scenario, and what a tragedy that would have been.
Veronica crawls toward you, devious and sweet, the perfect mixture of virtue and sin. She plays it like you did earlier, waits for her boyfriend to suck you into his mouth then kisses you with the small sound clinging at the back of your throat. She toys her tongue over yours, and you reach up to cradle the back of her head, trying to bring more of her into the kiss. At the same time, Duncan slips your cock out of his mouth with a noisy pop and makes it his mission to lick his saliva away from your superheated flesh.
You shudder, look into Veronica’s eyes, your lower lip trembling. She spreads her hand across your chest and leans down. Her small teeth set into your lip and she tugs with a smile, forcing you to groan. Duncan goes back to licking the head of your cock, sucking the shining tip; you try to watch him, but you can’t quite see through the curtain of golden hair blocking the view. Veronica flicks her tongue around your nipple, sucking slowly, so you thread your fingers through the strands; bring her close enough to hear the hammer of your heart.
Duncan slurps noisily, then gulps around you, and you’re so close to breaking you can only think about letting go. But the two of them move, a small dance of bodies, and Veronica hovers over your aching cock, rubbing her soft, slick mound over you with Duncan at her back. They float over you, Duncan’s hand on her hip, purposefully angling her towards you, his other hand strumming her clit. You’re so close to gone, you can’t think straight, and for a fraction of a second you almost let it go down this way, but then you jerk upright, palming your hands over her breasts.
“No,” you huff on an exhale. “Not this way. Not your first time.” You shake your head, lick your lips, blow out a lungful of air. The pain is exquisite now. You just want to come, but there’s no way you’re going to take Veronica’s virginity and have her do all the work. It should be… it should be perfect.
“Are you sure?” you whisper, rolling over, dragging her underneath you. Duncan leverages himself against your back; you can feel his hard cock leaving a slick trail over your thigh.
“Yes,” she breathes, so beautifully open, looking up at you like she’ll always trust you, always believe in you, never lose faith in the person she thinks you are. “Please,” she quietly begs.
“Okay. Relax for me, just breathe,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss her while you slowly slip a finger up inside her. She pants, delicate puffs of air, as you play with her. “Touch yourself, Veronica,” you hum into her ear. “Show me how you get yourself off.”
Her skin blazes; you can feel her flush with embarrassment, as much as with arousal, your finger working inside her. But she does what she's told, lithely skimming her finger in small circles around the outside of her clit. “That’s it. Just like that.” She whimpers when you watch, then Duncan tucks himself into your sides and laps her nipple into his mouth. She arches back, straining against your hand, trembling uneasily as the very thin barrier begins to break. Taking your cock into your hand, you settle between her thighs, resting the tip against her wet entrance. Her eyes fly open, a brief moment of hesitation, fear. “It’s okay,” you whisper, kissing her throat, pressing your lips to her ear. “This can wait. Tell me you want to wait, Veronica, and we will.”
Your rock hard dick bumps against her clit with the grinding of her hips, her fingers furiously stroking herself into a frenzy. Duncan bucks against your thigh, his breath falling harsh on your shoulder, and you have to close your eyes to keep from exploding from sensory overload. That’s when the most amazing thing happens. Veronica slips her hand around yours, guiding you inside her. You try to go slow, she’s so small and tight, but gravity and your best friend pushing against your spine forces you through her hymen - she closes her eyes, narrowing her lips around a scream - until you’re buried inside her. “Jesus, Veronica,” you groan. It feels so good, too good to feel ashamed, but you do. You’re hurting her, her face masked by pain, her breath coming in tiny, ruptured gasps. “I’m sorry,” you soothe, brushing your hand across her forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you, Veronica. Let me make you feel good.”
She hiccups, with a small nod. Lifting her hips underneath you, she tests the solid muscle deep within her. “No,” you blurt, but the slight grimace crowning the corner of her mouth vanishes, little by little, so you go out on a limb and pull away from her a fraction of an inch. When you slide back, she bites into her lip, but her hands wrap around your biceps and she blows out an unsteady breath, eyes shining into yours. “Oh fuck, Veronica. You feel so… so good. ” Your muscles shake under the intensity of every drive, balancing on your forearms. You angle closer to her, desperate to feel her breath on your skin.
“More,” she quivers, a whimper falling hot against your neck, her body glistening with the exertion. “Oh… God.” She sounds so helpless.
Duncan leans into you, finds your ear and grunts, “I’m going to come, Logan.” He trembles next to the two of you, his hand fisting over his dick, and you slip as far out of Veronica as she’ll allow, before falling back towards her. She’s still flicking her fingers over her clit, only stopping briefly to will away the pain, but now her back bends toward you, her breasts heaving as she fights to refill her lungs.
“God! Veronica, Logan!” Duncan cries, then groans loudly, his semen running hot down your ass.
Veronica gasps, and you level your hips hard against her, your arm wrapped behind her head, the other in the small of her back, bringing her with you on these last few thrusts. “Loh-. Lohhhh-gahhn,” she pants, the walls of her pussy clamping down around you, small shudders convulsing them.
“Oh God, Veronica, please come, baby.” You don’t have to tell her you’re not going to last even a minute longer, because she’s there, too, teetering on the edge, and with one final drive she joins you, both of you arching - her off the bed, you bending backwards braced by your arms. The symphony all three of you create together is obscene, but you love it. You love them.
You're bone tired, muscle sore, a week and a half away from Christmas, but you can't imagine ever getting anything that'll compare to the gift of the two of them wrapped around you. You're at the center, the very heart of it, arms and legs twisted around yours until you can’t tell where you stop and they begin. Nothing will ever come close to these feelings - happiness, joy, strength, devotion, love. You'll live each day to protect them, and maybe, if you're lucky, they'll do the same for you.