Ronan couldn't remember the last time he'd sat on Gansey's bed, with Adam's head pillowed on his thigh, a bottle of bourbon sitting pretty between them, and Monmouth quiet in the fading summer. He couldn't remember, because it'd never happened before. Ronan hadn't had Adam. Ronan hadn't had much of anything.
He traced the fine hair on Adam's brow, brushed his knuckles across his cheeks and listened to Gansey tell stories about his road trip across the United States. About Blue and Henry, and their peculiar brand of relationship.
"It's an open thing," Gansey said. "We all want each other, and we're allowed to want other people as long as it's discussed beforehand."
"Really?" Adam quipped. He craned into Ronan's hand. "I figured Blue would be the possessive type."
Gansey nursed the bottle and winced. "Jane is..." He paused, gaze climbing toward the ceiling as he searched for the proper explanation. "Jane is very perceptive of the world around her. She understands that Henry and I are hers, but that we've also been with other people and could potentially be with other people again. But it's only people we've talked about, like I said."
"Like Henry can go fuck around with Jiang again?" Ronan asked.
Gansey nodded. "Yes."
"What about you?" Adam sat up on his elbows. "Who's on your approved list?"
Gansey's glasses slid to the tip of his nose. Ronan watched him push them back into place. He waved a finger between Ronan and Adam, before taking another swig off the bottle. Alcohol made Gansey brave, and a brave, burning Gansey was always intoxicating to witness.
Adam mirrored the motion. "What does that mean?"
Ronan thought he knew, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached for the bottle and tugged it out of Gansey's hand to take a sip.
"You," Gansey dared. "Both of you."
Despite the rationality of Gansey's even voice, he said you like he would curse or tell a secret or say the name of a saint. Ronan's head spun. His heart kicked. He felt Adam bristle on his thigh before he abruptly sat up.
There was a time years ago when Gansey had put his mouth on Ronan. It was a brief - one night. Ronan was drunk, Gansey was there, and when he crawled into Gansey's bed and pressed up against him, Gansey pressed back. They never talked about it after, not in the morning when Gansey still had marks from Ronan's teeth in his shoulder, not when light came in through the window and highlighted the come on Ronan's stomach, the taste of it in his mouth.
Gansey reached for the bottle again. Adam swatted his hand away.
"We're your friends," Adam said matter-of-factly.
"You two were friends," Gansey said. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh gathering in a deep, unsettled breath. "And we all know how that ended. It's not like Ronan and I haven't crossed that line in the past."
Adam whipped around to look at Ronan.
"It was once," Ronan sneered. "We were fifteen. It was a different time."
"Haven't you thought about it?" Gansey dared again. His words fell short, as if he reconsidered saying them while they were in the middle of leaving his mouth.
The room crowded around them. Ronan's heart seized. His stomach dropped, gathering into an uncomfortable knot below his belly button. Adam had stopped breathing altogether, his lips parted, gaze settled on Gansey's mouth. None of them moved. Ronan felt the bed shift, his throat go dry - saw the way Gansey's tan shoulders flexed, how he flicked his gaze to Ronan once before crawling on his hands and knees into Adam's space. Adam didn't move or speak or say a thing. His palm rested on Ronan's thigh, shaking and twitching, a testament to his unbecoming.
Adam's eyelids curtained. His breath gusted out of him and he leaned back until the he fell against Ronan's shoulder, and had no where else to go.
"This can be once," Gansey said. "You're leaving for college. I'm going abroad."
Adam swallowed. Ronan felt him shift, and his palm gripped Ronan's thigh helplessly, asking a silent question.
Ronan didn't know what else to do, so he hid his face against Adam's neck and set his teeth there, hoping it counted as an answer.
"Fuck, are we doing this? Really?" Adam tilted his head, pushing into Ronan's open mouth.
Gansey inched closer, until his hand brushed Ronan's calf, until his palm fell above Adam's knee, and his mouth pressed against Adam's jaw, his cheek, until Ronan broke away and steered his lips, sealing them against Gansey's.
He heard Adam's breath hitch. Listened to him lick his lips, to Gansey hum deep in his throat and part his lips, all bourbon and sharp mint, his tongue different than Adam's, slower and more precise in Ronan's mouth. Ronan hadn't kissed Gansey in years. He hadn't felt the fullness of his mouth or heat of his breath, the open, raw kissing that had at one point made Ronan question whether God could truly condemn him for wanting what he wanted when he'd created a boy like Gansey, and put him in Ronan's direct line of sight.
And then Ronan had seen Adam, and realized God was dead, and the Devil was real, because Adam was everything Ronan had wanted, amplified.
Ronan felt Adam shift against him and then Gansey's mouth was gone, taken by a pull of Adam's fingers around his chin.
This is a dream, Ronan thought. One he'd seen and lived and done before already.
Adam kissed aggressively, like he'd never kissed before and would never kiss again. That Ronan knew. But he'd never seen it from the outside before. Adam's fingers digging into Gansey's cheeks, the pass of their tongues through the gap between their mouths. Ronan pulled until Adam was settled between his spread legs, back to Ronan's chest, with Ronan palming him through his jeans. Adam broke the kiss to gasp. His hand latched around Ronan's wrist.
"Making out is one thing," Adam panted, "this is somethin' else entirely."
Gansey peeled his shirt off.
Ronan swallowed hard.
Adam's grip on his wrist slackened.
"It's just Gansey," Ronan whispered against his ear. "And it's still you and me."
Adam slowly let go of Ronan's wrist, allowing him to press down again, to grip him through his jeans and rub. He watched Gansey carefully over the curve of Adam's shoulder, a warning and an invitation. This boy is mine. Ronan unbuttoned Adam's pants in a hurry and shoved a hand down them. This is a one time thing.
Adam tried to spread his legs, but his jeans were tight and restrictive. He keened, neck extended, head thrown back against Ronan's shoulder. "If we're doing this, let's do it then," he said through an impatient gasp, pawing at the place in front of him where Gansey sat.
Gansey kissed Ronan first, deep and unhurried, as his hand snaked up Adam's thigh and settled over Ronan's knuckles, feeling them tighten around Adam's cock. Then he kept going, up toward Adam's belly, to the buttons on his shirt that he unfastened, to his broad chest and cliff-edged collarbones. Gansey's mouth landed on Adam's neck, his shoulders. His teeth circled Adam's nipple, scraped hard over his ribcage. It went on like that, with Ronan leisurely touching Adam, and Gansey making himself known, until Adam moaned softly, his hips stirred, and he ran a hand through Gansey's hair, turned his head to find Ronan's lips.
Ronan pretended it was a dream, because in his dreams he'd done this. And if he pretended, he knew he wouldn't freeze or do something wrong or startle them both.
Somehow, between Adam's mouth on Ronan's, the weighty familiarity of it, Adam had kicked away his jeans, and Gansey had discarded his own pants, and now two pairs of hands were pushing Ronan down.
"You've always been gorgeous, Ronan," Gansey said.
Adam nodded in agreement. He shoved Ronan's shirt up until it was tossed away, and hooked his teeth around Ronan's hipbone.
Gansey's hand, was it Gansey's hand? Someone's hand slithered across Ronan's chest, down his stomach. Someone's mouth - Adam's, he knew that mouth - sucked low on his stomach. Gansey bit his sides, his ribs. Ronan closed his eyes when one of them unbuttoned his pants, lifted his hips and let them strip him. His heart thundered. His chest was heavy with sounds he kept choking down, body wracked with trembles and cheeks filled with heat.
He didn't look when someone's lips wrapped around his cock, just tried to stay steady. One mouth on his cock. The other on his inner thigh. One tongue pressing hard against the underside of him. The other sucked at the tip.
"I'll last two fucking seconds if you don't stop," Ronan gritted to no one in particular. He finally opened his mouth and whined, allowing the choked moans and desperate, wounded sounds to leave him. "Christ, seriously."
"Can I fuck him?" Gansey said softly.
Ronan squirmed. Adam mouthed wetly at Ronan's cock, curved over his belly.
"Yeah," Adam said. He crept up Ronan's abdomen, away from his cock, which left Ronan writhing, hoping Adam would keep it up, and thankful he hadn't at the same time. "Can Gansey fuck you?"
Three minutes ago, Adam had been the one under their hands and mouths. Ronan couldn't get a grasp on when or how things had changed. He opened his eyes and nodded, suddenly sure this was a dream. Gansey watched him as he took a sip off the bottle of bourbon.
"Fuck, whatever, yeah, someone do something," Ronan bit.
Adam kissed Ronan hard. Their teeth clanked. Adam's tongue pushed into his mouth at the same time Gansey's fingers pushed between his legs, coaxing Ronan onto his side. Ronan blushed hot. His stomach wound tight. He gave up on staying quiet, and moaned into Adam's mouth, pressed back against Gansey's dry thumb, and tried not to come.
Gansey didn't ask if he could go down on Ronan. He just did.
It came out of nowhere. At one point Adam was breathing heavy into Ronan's mouth, one hand on his cock, the other wrapped around him. Then it was Gansey's mouth on his spine, between his shoulders, his lower back, and his tongue heavy and wet inside him, pushing, stretching, making room. Ronan grappled for Adam's shoulders and hid his face, while one hand dove down to hold onto the back of Gansey's skull.
"Fuck, okay, if this is happening, it needs to happen,” Ronan snapped, voice breathy and stunted against Adam’s neck. He whined and his hips jerked, grinding back against Gansey’s face.
Adam’s hand snaked between his legs. His middle finger slid against Gansey’s tongue and pressed inside Ronan. He kept his knuckle bent, massaging Ronan’s prostate while Gansey’s hot mouth sucked and licked. Ronan cried out. His stomach jumped and his back arched. Between the slick, wet heat of Gansey and the relentless pressure of Adam’s finger, Ronan couldn’t hold off. He sucked in deep breaths, hips jumping, hands flying back to Adam’s shoulders where he clutched and scratched.
Ronan came. He gasped and writhed, silent but for his breath heaving again and again, and trembled until Gansey’s lips trailed up his spine.
Adam pushed his finger deeper. Ronan gritted his teeth.
“How do you wanna do this?” Adam whispered.
Ronan’s head still spun. He shook his head instead of answering and lifted his hips, telling them to get on with it without speaking.
Two lube-slicked fingers danced over Adam’s knuckle. Adam didn’t move and Gansey didn’t stop, and Ronan choked on a moan when both of them curled inside him, probing and stretching, massaging and circling. He closed his eyes to keep them from rolling back, stayed still and allowed it, wondering if he could properly suck Adam off while Gansey fucked him or not.
“Why's this all about me?” Ronan said softly. His lashes fluttered and he rolled his hips, meeting whoever was pumping into him, shallow, deep rolls of their wrist sending their fingers deeper. Because I’m dreaming.
“We’re just starting,” Gansey mumbled.
It happened quickly. Suddenly, fingers were gone and Ronan was empty, blushing and still hard from dry-coming, waiting to wake up.
“Ride him,” Adam said suddenly.
Gansey made a surprised, pleased noise.
Ronan glanced at Adam, eyes narrowed. His lips parted and he swallowed.
“Get in his lap,” Adam whispered. He flicked his wrist to Gansey. “Sit against the wall.”
Gansey did as he was instructed. Adam’s hands skimmed Ronan’s waist. He gripped hard, secure and loving, thumbs rubbing slow across his hipbones. Lips dusted Ronan’s shoulder and Adam pushed until Ronan was up on his knees, chest to Ronan’s back, coaxing him into Gansey’s lap.
“Fuck, okay,” Ronan sighed. He spread his legs over Gansey’s thighs and shuddered when two of Adam’s fingers slid over his wet hole. “Okay, just -”
Gansey’s hand snaked around the back of Ronan’s head and yanked him forward. Their lips met hurriedly, achingly. Ronan opened his mouth wide and kissed hard, sucking Gansey’s tongue behind his teeth, biting savagely into his bottom lip. Adam’s breath was hot on his throat, in the crease where his neck met his shoulder, and his cock was hard against Ronan’s lower back.
Ronan didn’t know when it started. He didn’t know who had their hand where, only that Gansey was inside him and Adam was grinding his cock against his tailbone, and he had to put one hand on the wall to keep from falling forward. His hips rolled and bucked, trying to match Gansey thrusting up into him. Someone’s hands gripped his waist. Someone’s mouth was on his throat. Someone moaned - Adam. Someone gasped and bit his shoulder - Gansey.
Ronan grinded down, pushing until he was seated in Gansey’s lap, keeping Gansey still as he rolled his stomach, using Gansey to spike a fire inside him, pulsing around his cock and throwing his head back onto Adam’s shoulder.
Adam’s palms glided his abdomen, over his chest to his throat.
“Do it,” Ronan snapped. He moaned and whined, riding Gansey hard and dirty.
He shoved Gansey against the wall, removing his face from where it’d been hidden in Ronan’s neck. Gansey blinked, taken a back, cheeks toasted red and lips swollen. He tugged Ronan’s thighs tighter around him at the same time Adam gripped his hipbone with one hand and wrapped the other around Ronan’s throat.
Ronan dropped his head back, extended his neck and allowed it. Welcomed it. Wanted it.
Adam’s teeth sank into his shoulder. His thumb and index finger stretched apart, palm settled low on Ronan’s throat, right against his windpipe. He applied pressure, then more, then more until Ronan couldn’t breathe. Until Ronan had one arm twisted back, holding onto Adam, and the other slipped to Gansey’s shoulder. Until it was Ronan holding on and getting fucked, until his lungs burned and his body was strung tight. Until Adam squeezed harder and he closed his eyes, and jerked as Gansey moved inside him.
“Come on, Ronan,” Adam whispered.
Ronan dug his nails into Adam’s thigh. Gansey cursed lowly in front of him. The sound of their skin meeting accompanied Gansey’s soft moan and Ronan’s wet gasp when Adam let him breathe.
Ronan’s forehead hit Gansey’s shoulder. His back bowed and he made a wounded, steep sound when Adam pushed his index finger alongside Gansey’s cock.
“I wanted you to come first,” Gansey bit, but held onto Ronan nonetheless and trembled, thrusts turning messy and uncoordinated as he came.
How was it possible that they were still fighting with each other? Even now, in the middle of this, it was a competition and an argument. Ronan almost laughed, but all he managed was a loose grin against Gansey’s neck.
Adam shoved his legs further apart around Gansey. Ronan gasped, head full of cotton and heart beating fast. As soon as Gansey slipped out of him, Adam took his place. He wasn’t gentle, and Ronan didn’t expect him to be. He gripped Ronan’s hips with both hands and angled him backward, shoving into him in one, swift, hard jab of his pelvis.
Ronan let out a sharp cry, body loose and pliant, warm and syrupy.
He stayed where he was, slumped against Gansey, forehead on his shoulder, and listened to Adam moan against the back of his neck. Adam curled over him and moved fast, hard and insistent, selfish and violent and possessive.
Ronan came like the exhale of a painfully held breath. His body shook. Everything inside him cracked open. The pressure at the base of his spine released and he choked on a gasp, riding the waves of it as he emptied on Gansey’s stomach. He tightened around Adam, pulsing over and over. Tremors wracked his arms and legs, but he stayed where he was, with Gansey holding onto him, whispering gentle praises against his collarbone, and Adam fucking him relentlessly, brittle moans and grunts a chorus on the shell of his ear.
Adam kept going for a while, until his thrusts became shallow and his grip on Ronan tightened, until he let out a strangled, deep moan and came inside him, hot pulses that felt like too much.
It was wet. Everything. Ronan wrinkled his nose and winced when Adam pulled out. Come and lube dripped down his thighs. Ronan couldn’t stand if he fucking wanted to.
“That was...” Gansey trailed off, clearing his throat.
“Yeah,” Adam murmured.
Ronan was still trying to catch his breath.
“I think this has turned into something else,” Adam said. There was bravery in his voice, and it coaxed Ronan to open his eyes.
Adam’s fingers pushed into him and Ronan gasped, embarrassingly loud, and almost toppled over.
“I think this has turned into how many times can we make you come,” Adam whispered.
Gansey’s mouth landed solidly on Ronan’s jaw. “I agree,” Gansey said.
Ronan did not agree or disagree. His body was spent, overstimulated, well and thoroughly used. He tried to steady his breathing. He tried not to flinch away. The lights were dim, but Ronan could still see the outline of the bourbon bottle on the nightstand. He reached for it, took a sip, and nodded.
“I won’t say no,” Ronan dared, voice rasped by sex and liquor.
Gansey shoved him onto his back. Adam sat between his legs, pumping two fingers into him, shoving them as deep as he could, twisting and curling. Gansey bit and sucked his nipples, his clavicles, his hipbones, mouthed at his soft cock.
The night went on. Ronan let them fuck him until he couldn’t move. After Gansey got him on his hands and knees. After Adam shoved his face against the comforter with his spine curled, hands fisted in the sheets, and fucked him raw. After Ronan stop caring and got loud, whining and yelping and moaning and making demands. Faster. Harder. More. There. Bite me. Choke me. Yes. After Gansey said fuck, he’s a mess and Adam said a fuckin’ perfect mess. After Adam came in him again and Gansey came across his stomach in thick stripes, and Ronan cried when he came, body spasming, voice hoarse, muscles loose, exhausted, quivering and done. Adam slid three fingers out of him and wiped them on the sheets.
“We’re done,” Ronan finally whimpered. His legs twitched. He hid his face in the pillow and didn’t move when Adam and Gansey flopped on either side of him. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
He was filled with come. Covered in come. He needed a god damn shower.
Adam heaved a sigh.
Gansey did the same.
“Get me a beer,” Ronan mumbled.
Gansey smirked. “Can’t walk?”
“Won’t walk,” Ronan hissed.
Adam got up to get him a beer, and Ronan closed his eyes, and surprisingly enough, he wasn't dreaming.
They sat in the ruined sheets until Gansey got up to take a shower. Adam kissed Ronan long a deep, relishing in a not-so-normal softness that Ronan harbored after being fucked like that by them.
“You okay?” Adam asked. He sounded more like himself now, a little hesitant, not red-hot and sex drunk. He touched a bruise on Ronan’s ribcage. “That was...”
“A lot,” Ronan offered. His skin thrummed. His heartbeat was beginning to slow, but he could still feel them - Adam and Gansey - their touches dusting his skin, their cocks heavy and brutal inside him, their lips warm and sure. He closed his eyes and swallowed a tentative breath. Not even in his dreams. He shifted and his hips ached, still slick and raw between his legs. Not. Even. In. His. Dreams.
Adam’s mouth pressed against Ronan’s neck, then his cheek, before he kissed him firmly on the lips. Gansey peeked his head in and tried to smile. Things would always be this now, a little awkward, a little off, a little tainted by I-made-Ronan-Lynch-come-so-hard-he-cried.
“Shower?” Gansey asked.
Ronan didn’t want to admit it, but his legs were numb. “In a minute.”
Adam kissed him again and again. Gansey returned with light touches and a gentle mouth, too.
“One time thing,” Ronan whispered. His fingers played with Gansey’s hand and he pressed close to Adam.
“Sure,” Adam said through a laugh. Gansey peppered his lips on Ronan's throat. “Sure it was.”