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everything worth it hurts a little bit

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Freddie jabs at the doorbell five times before someone answers the door of the Stonem household. He expects to see Effy's Mum, bags under her eyes and wineglass in her hand as she tells him to fuck off, but instead, he sees a tall, dark-haired boy, maybe a couple of years older than himself. The boy's shirtless, and staring at Freddie with piercing blue eyes.

"Who're you?" he asks.

"Who're you?" Freddie snaps back straight away.

But the boy just ignores him and turns around, glancing over his shoulder. Freddie follows his gaze. Effy is standing at the top of the stairs, and she's naked, a sheet clutched to her chest and trailing at her feet. She grins down at him, shakes her hair back.

"This is Tony," she says, like it's some sort of announcement, like Freddie should be honoured to meet the random guy she's been fucking today, or impressed that she managed to remember his name or something.

Tony holds out his hand and Freddie shakes it, not knowing what else to do. "Freddie," he says, as Effy starts down the stairs.

"Oh, you're Freddie," Tony grins. "I've heard all about you." Before Freddie gets a chance to ask what the hell that's supposed to mean, Tony goes on. "As you can see," he says with a smirk, "you caught us at a bit of a bad time."

Effy reaches the foot of the stairs and comes up to the doorway, seemingly okay with being clothed only in a sheet in full view of all the neighbours. She shares a look with the boy and rests a comfortable hand on his broad shoulder.

"Then again, it's rude to turn him away if he's come all the way here, isn't it?" Tony asks her, turning to look at her, his stupidly neat fringe hanging down over his eyes and almost, but not quite, obscuring the fond look he has in them. He turns back to Freddie. "I've been told you turn up here quite a lot."

Freddie doesn't really know what to say to that. Doesn't know what to say to any of this. He's half the mind to just give up and go home, but he's not ready to stop fighting for Effy just yet.

"Effy turns you away, though, doesn't she?" Tony says. He gives Effy a quick glance. "Shame. I think you two would be good together."

Even though he still has no clue who this guy is or why he seems to think he has the right to involve himself in Freddie's life, Freddie can't help but like him, just for that one sentence.

"I think so too," he says simply. He shivers a little—should've brought a jacket—and Tony picks up on it immediately.

"It's cold out," he says, smirking again in a way that makes Freddie a little nervous. "Why don't you come in? Have a few drinks. Maybe we can work out why Effy seems to think you're not good enough for her."

"Tony," Effy says, and giggles, in a way Freddie's never heard before, elbowing Tony in the ribs.

"You haven't given the guy a chance, Eff," Tony tells her, dodging expertly out of the way, and giving Freddie a chance to step inside. "I'm just trying to help."


Not long later, they're all sitting in Effy's room, sipping at some concoction Tony mixed up claiming it's his speciality. It tastes like shit, but Freddie's drinking it down, the situation too weird to handle sober and the atmosphere in the room increasingly uncomfortable. On the way upstairs, Tony and Effy were whispering to each other, and when they entered the room, Tony sat down in the computer chair, gesturing for Freddie and Effy to sit together at the edge of the bed. Like it was his room, not hers. Effy sits beside him, the sheet wrapped around her properly now, and Tony is opposite, sipping his drink leisurely and swivelling his chair from side to side.

"So," he says, and Freddie takes another large gulp of his drink, grimacing at the taste as it goes down his throat. "What is it you like about her?"

"What?" Freddie's caught off guard; he almost chokes on the drink, spluttering.

"You know what I mean," Tony shrugs. "What is it about her? Nice tits, nice arse? Pretty eyes?" He pauses, sips his drink. "Or do you like her for her personality?"

"It's—" Freddie starts, stammering, uncertain. He glances at Effy beside him for help but she's finishing off her drink—already—her head thrown back.

"It's all of that for me," Tony adds casually, "and more."

He holds out his hand to take Effy's glass from her and refill it, and Freddie glowers to himself. Maybe the alcohol's given him courage or maybe he's just had enough of this. Whatever it is he's not going to sit here and listen to this anymore. He's used to Effy sleeping around, but this guy's acting like he owns her or something, like he's got a hell of a lot more rights than a one-night-stand.

He turns to Effy. "Effy, what the fuck is going on here?" he demands. "Who is this guy? Some secret boyfriend?"

Tony snorts with laughter as he passes Effy her drink, and she hides a smile behind her glass. "Something like that," she says and takes another swig.

The two of them share a secret grin, and just like that they're back in control and all of Freddie's objections just seem to vanish from his mind. He drinks, frowning to himself.

"So you've kissed her, yeah?" Tony asks, those bright blue eyes on him again. Freddie's starting to feel a bit tipsy already; the room blurs a little around the edges and all he can focus on is Tony's face.

"Y-yeah," he says.

"Just the once, though, yeah?"

Freddie starts to wonder just how much Effy's told him. "Yeah," he says again.

"Can't judge much from a first kiss, can you?" Tony says conversationally, ever casual, leaning back comfortably in his seat, tapping his fingers against his glass. "There's always all that build-up. Expectation, anticipation. People make such a big deal out of it, but in my opinion, the second kiss is always better. Right, Eff?"

She just shrugs, one-shouldered, passive.

"Why don't you find out?" Tony asks.

Freddie's heart leaps into his throat. He doesn't know if it's the drink or the way Effy turns and looks at him, eyebrow quirked, running her tongue gently over her bottom lip in invitation. He wants to wait for her to kiss him, to make that first move, to let him know this is okay, but something tells him it's all up to him.

And he doesn't want it to be like this, he doesn't want to kiss her when some creepy guy is telling them to, and watching them, but he can't pass up the opportunity—he's been dreaming about kissing her again ever since the first time. He wants to feel her lips again, so badly, and so he moves in, hand sliding down over her bare shoulder and pulling her close.

She kisses him back, passionately, giving him all the reassurance he needs, and he almost forgets about Tony, lost in the feeling of Effy's warm soft lips against his, her tongue slipping into his mouth. And then Tony shifts on his chair and it creaks slightly, and Freddie pulls back.

"Oh, don't let me stop you," Tony chuckles. "Carry on. By all means. Go further, if you like. Have you ever seen her naked, Freddie?"

A spark runs through Freddie at the thought. He shakes his head. He's been trying not to think about the fact that Effy's naked under that sheet beside him, that if she moved her arms a little more it could slip down. He can't think about that, can't imagine that, because he'll get hard, looking at her bare shoulders and thinking about her tits and her arse and—

"You want to, though," Tony interrupts his thoughts, thank God, because willpower's never been Freddie's strong point, especially when it comes to girls. He forces himself to look at Tony, but still all he sees is Effy. "Yeah," Tony says, his voice a low, dirty murmur that makes Freddie feel open and exposed, like Tony can see right into his head, "you want to."

Freddie gulps down the rest of his drink for something to do. He wishes he had more even though he knows he doesn't need it, knows Tony made it strong enough that one glass would do him. Effy downs the rest of hers too, takes his glass and slams them both down on the bedside table. She smirks at Tony, waiting.

"Pull the sheet down, Effy," he says, his voice measured and sure. "He wants to see your tits."

Freddie thinks this is the part where Effy slaps Tony, asks him what right he has to tell her what to do and kicks him out. But she doesn't. It's like he has this inexplicable power over her, and what's more, she seems to like it. All she does is look at him, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, and then she looks at Freddie too, and pushes the sheet over her chest, shucking it down to her waist with a wriggle.

She looks from Freddie to Tony this time, eyelids lowered, shoulders confidently held back. Despite her confidence, Freddie feels like he shouldn't look, or shouldn't stare, but that's what he's doing, mind already mapping out the paths his hands would take over her chest. The small swell of her breasts would fit perfectly in his palms, and he imagines his thumbs stroking over her flushed, peaked nipples. Already, he can feel his cock growing hard and he shifts on the bed uncomfortably.

"You can touch her, you know," Tony says suddenly.

Freddie's head snaps up, eyes shooting back to the boy he'd almost forgotten was there. He's stunned to see that Tony's got his hand over his own crotch. He's sitting there with his legs spread, hand over the bulge in his jeans and slowly stroking it, almost lazily, the total opposite of Freddie's reaction to a growing hard-on. Effy just leans back, comfortable. Neither of them seem to sense any of the awkwardness that Freddie does; it's like they exist in an entirely different atmosphere.

Effy raises her eyebrows at Tony, like she's waiting for the next instruction. Tony seems to get the same impression.

He says, "No, Eff, you don't want to overwhelm him," and Freddie finds himself wondering if he missed something there, if Effy actually spoke. But he knows he's not drunk enough to actually be drifting in and out of consciousness.

"I want him to touch you first," Tony says.

Freddie feels like he can't move all of a sudden. He wants to reach out and touch her, of course, he wants to feel her skin, the smooth soft warmth of her breasts and her pointed, puckered nipples. His throat goes dry at the thought and he just sort of stares blankly at her. He feels like he should ask permission, or ask if this whole situation is okay, but she's just smirking at him, and he has no idea what to do.

"Jesus," Tony mutters to himself, putting down his drink. He slides off his chair and shuffles over to the bed.

He curls his hands round the edge of the mattress and leans in, looking up at her like he's on his knees before a goddess. He looks her right in the eye like that before he presses his mouth to the skin between her breasts, softly kissing her there. Freddie waits for the surge of jealousy, of anger, that intense feeling of possessiveness he usually gets when he sees Effy with somebody else. He expects it, but it doesn't come. He just watches them, watches as Tony's mouth moves across to Effy's nipple, lips brushing it, his head rocking forward and almost nuzzling her. It's like he's worshipping her, Freddie thinks, and he suddenly feels like an intruder.

But then Tony is pulling back, and taking Freddie's hand, bringing it to Effy. Tony shapes Freddie's hand without difficulty, leads him to cup Effy's breasts, feel the soft warmth of them. Effortlessly, he strokes Freddie's thumb over a nipple, smoothing away the wet from Tony's mouth. Freddie barely notices when Tony's hand slips away. His eyes flicker up to Effy's face and he's comforted to see a slight nervousness in her smile.

And then he feels Tony's warm breath at his ear. "Touch her," he murmurs, and god, Freddie is touching her, and he can hardly handle this.

"I—Effy—" Freddie stammers, but he's got no idea what he's planning to say, because his mind is already overwhelmed with thoughts about what it would be like for him to slide his hand down under the sheet, to touch her there.

"Go on," Tony whispers, still so close, arched over the side of the bed to lean into him. Freddie can see him out of the corner of his eye, can see that his gaze is fixed on Effy and hers on him.

He doesn't want to be a toy for them, doesn't want to be a part of some perverted game she's playing with an old friend, but even though it feels like that, he just can't bring himself to leave. To pass up this chance—it just seems insane.

"Go on," Tony urges again, and this time Freddie flinches as he feels soft lips suddenly brushing his ear. "She's wet. She's so wet for you."

Freddie's hand trembles involuntarily against Effy's chest. He can feel her heart beating, at a pace much calmer than his own. This time it's her who guides him, her hand closing around his and pulling it up to her mouth in order for her to press a kiss to his fingers. Her eyelids lower, at once mischievious and reassuring, and she brings his hand lower, shimmying a little to loosen the sheets coiled around her hips. He keeps his eyes on her as she drags his fingers down between her parted thighs, and he feels the cool air of the room turn to slick, close heat. She cups his hand, curls it against her, and lets out a soft, breathy laugh, throwing back her head and grinning giddily. She looks lost, high, wild. In her own world all of a sudden, almost shutting him out.

All he can do is touch her, fingers slipping and sliding against the impossibly soft folds of skin, clumsy and aimless in his awe of her. After a dazed moment or two, Tony speaks again, breaking the entranced silence.

"She's wet, isn't she?" he whispers, voice deeper now, more throaty, his arousal clear.

Freddie can't speak. Tony's hand sneaks beneath the sheet too, and Freddie feels it clasped over his own, fingers pushing his apart to get a feel of her.

"Oh, yeah," Tony says, voice low as he shifts to lean in close to Effy, his mouth at her throat and then her jaw, "you're soaking," he breathes, lips curling into a smile against her flushed skin.

He shuffles about on the floor, shedding his jeans gracefully. And then he's on his knees again, his bare legs against the carpet, and Freddie watches as his hand goes to his crotch, clutching at the stiff bulge in his boxers. But he doesn't relieve the ache just yet.

"What do you want, Eff?" Tony says softly.

Freddie can't help but press his hand more firmly against her, almost possessively, revelling in the way her body gives a little shudder and her breath catches in her throat. She doesn't respond to Tony though, and Freddie realises that it seems like ages since she spoke. It's not like she's ever been particularly talkative, but she's barely said a word since he got here. It's almost as though Tony's doing all her talking for her.

"What do you want?" Tony prompts again, nuzzling Effy's arched neck.

Her voice is barely even a whisper when she responds. "I want him inside me." The words send a shiver down Freddie's spine and his erection throbs in the tight restraint of his trousers. "His cock deep inside me, filling me up."

Tony chuckles gently, tucks some tangled hair behind her ear. "Let's go slow, Eff," he tells her, and she echoes his soft laughter, turning to look at him and press a kiss to his lips.

They kiss deeper, and Freddie starts to draw back. But Tony stops him suddenly, grabbing his forearm, without taking his attention away from Effy. His grip is firm, assertive, and Freddie's hand stays where it is, his fingers crooked between her legs—two against a neat thatch of soft hair, and two lower, pressed against the wet heat of her cunt. Tony's tight grasp doesn't give him much room for movement, but he manages to stroke his fingers against her in an awkward, desperate way until he feels the bud of her clit. She shudders suddenly at the contact.

Tony breaks the kiss and turns his head, leaves Effy resting against him, her breathing coming quicker now, less even. "Tony—" she gasps.

"Inside her," Tony instructs Freddie, a little sharply.

He lets go of him and Freddie obeys instantly, his finger pushing deep, and Effy nods gratefully, a little moan escaping her mouth. She's so hot and tight around him, and his dick aches to feel it, unbearably hard now.

"Yeah," Tony murmurs, smiling, turning to look at Effy almost adoringly. The hand that was holding Freddie still is now wrapped around Effy's middle, holding her. "Yeah, come on, another."

Distantly, Freddie wonders why he waited for Tony's instruction, instead of going by Effy's reaction, but once again he does as he's told anyway, and Effy gives him another slightly frantic nod.

He's barely started thrusting his fingers when Tony says, "Touch her clit."

He presses his palm to her in response. He has a challenge finding a girl's clit at the best of times, and it's definitely no easier when he can't see what he's doing. He struggles, and Tony heaves a frustrated sigh, yanking at the crumpled sheet around Effy's hips. She raises herself up so it can be pulled out from under her, and Freddie's fingers slide deeper inside her, right up to the knuckle. She settles back down on the bed, legs bent and spread, and he stares, sees her cunt flushed and shining.

He can't stand it anymore and his free hand reaches for his crotch, tugging at the zipper on his trousers. After an agonising moment of fiddling, he manages to get it undone, but as he goes to free his cock from his boxers, Tony stops him.

"Not yet," he says sharply, grabbing his wrist.

"I'm not gonna—" Freddie stammers helplessly, "I just need—"

"Yeah? Well, Effy needs you to touch her clit," Tony retorts, and looks at her, kissing her on the cheek softly. "Don't you, Eff?" She just smiles at him, wordlessly serene. Tony loosens his grip around Freddie's wrist a little. "Now," he says, turning back to him, "if you'd rather just have a wank, that's fine by us, but you're going to have to do that in the privacy of your own home."

Freddie opens his mouth and then shuts it again.

"Are we clear?" Tony asks, and god, Freddie wants to punch the smug little fucker right in the face, but he has to admit he's right. He can wank off any time, but this might be the only opportunity he ever gets to be with the girl of his dreams.

So he nods, tight-lipped, and Tony lets go of him.

"Now get on with it, poor thing's practically been forgotten about," Tony says, wrapping his arm around Effy again and pulling her close. "Fuckin' desperate, aren't you Eff? What do you want him to do?"

Effy looks from Tony to Freddie. "I want him to get me off before he fucks me," she says plainly, wry smile across her lips. "I want his dick spreading me open right after I come."

Freddie flushes hotly. He's no prude, but the two of them can dirty-talk like no one he's ever heard. He slides closer to her on the bed, but the friction between his legs makes him want to cry out, and he loses his focus for a second.

"You heard the girl," Tony goads him.

Freddie's never felt such pressure, but he tries to forget about it, tries just to focus on the fact that this is Effy, he's got his fingers inside Effy and she wants him to make her come. He draws his fingers back and slides them in again, feels the clenching heat, and thrusts. He finds a rhythm quickly, his palm rocking against her with every movement, and then suddenly she groans, holding his hand right where it is. She bucks forward, grinding against his hand.

"Y-yeah," she breathes.

"There?" he asks, voice hoarse.

"Yeah," she nods, her hips still moving in tight little circles as if of their own accord.

He tries to move with her, but she's still holding onto his hand for dear life, fingernails digging into his skin. Finally she eases off, and he tries as hard as he possibly can to keep his hand in the same place as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her. She moans again, and Tony holds her, stroking her hair back from her face soothingly. She looks beautiful, glowing, and the sound of her is making him practically squirm on the bed. He has to press the heel of his other hand hard against the base of his cock just to keep from coming in his boxers.

Soon, she's rocking forwards more frantically, rhythmless and panting, clenching around his fingers. She throws out her arm, grabs hold of Tony's shoulder, fingers clutching at him, and he murmurs senseless little things to her as Freddie keeps going, drawing her orgasm from her determinedly. Finally, she goes limp against Tony, hand dropping from his shoulder as she gulps to catch her breath.

"Okay?" Tony says, chuckling softly and pressing his lips to her cheek.

As he fusses over her, Freddie reaches into his boxers, his fingers still slick as they curl tightly around the base of his cock. He can't believe any of this, can hardly cope with it, doesn't know if he can handle what's next. He's so intensely turned on, but so confused and resentful too—angry at Tony for sharing this experience with him, yet grateful to him for presenting the opportunity in the first place.

"You want him to fuck you now?" Tony's asking Effy, voice low. "I want to see him fuck you."

Effy nods, smiling, dazed.

"You're not too sensitive?" Tony asks, hand smoothing over her pale, quivering stomach, fingers gliding over the slickness between her legs.

She shakes her head. "No, I want it, I want him to fuck me."

They're talking like he's not even there, Freddie realises, but he doesn't have much of a chance to work out how he feels about this fact, because Tony's getting up, rummaging in the bedside drawer where he clearly knows the condoms are kept. He tosses one to Freddie before taking his place back in the desk chair.

Freddie exhales slowly, wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He shuffles over to the side of the bed, toeing off his trainers and then peeling off his socks before easing his trousers and boxers gently down—

"Jesus, are you trying to delay this?" Tony groans, rolling his eyes. "Get a move on, mate."

Freddie glowers at him but finds he's almost scared to retaliate, and he hates that—hates that this guy he just met has got this power over him already. Tony's given him what he wants most in the world, but he gets the impression she could be taken away from him just as easily. It's not just him, either, it's Effy too, she's in on this somehow, going along with it like it doesn't really matter to her, and it's so unsettling and intriguing all at once. There's so much he doesn't understand about her, doesn't even know about her.

He throws down his clothes, can't even be bothered caring about the fact that he's now fully naked in front of this guy. A little shudder runs through him when he sees Tony palming his own cock through his boxers as he looks at him, and he's surprised that it's not altogether an unpleasant feeling. Hurriedly, he tears open the packet and slides the condom on, shuddering again at the feeling, thankful he finally gets to touch himself.

Effy's still somewhat limp, slumped against the headboard awkwardly, and Freddie leans over her, stroking her cheek gently. She smiles at him, a slightly glazed look in her eyes, and then she kisses him, and he feels a little triumphant about it, glad they're doing something without being told to first. But then Effy's hand is splaying across his chest and pushing him back up, away from her. He nods, heart pounding, and pulls her down towards him by her legs, hooking them around his waist as her head aligns with the pillows.

"Hey, hang on," Tony interrupts. He looks at Freddie scornfully. "Missionary? Seriously? what are you, a married couple trying for children?"

Freddie sits back, irritated. "What, then?" he says flatly. "What do you want?"

"Well, I want to be able to see her, for a start," Tony scoffs. He's swivelling the chair again, just slightly, from side to side, maddeningly casual. "Without you lying on top of her." He tilts his head. "On all fours, Eff? What do you say? You look gorgeous like that."

She drags her fingers through her hair, smiling, still a little breathless as she nods at him and says, almost shyly, "Yeah."

She heaves herself up and turns over, settles on her hands and knees in front of Freddie. She gives a little nudge up against him and he jolts, hands grasping her hips instinctively. He stares down at the smooth plane of her back, the line of her spine, the gorgeous curse of her arse. He slicks his aching cock over her, can practically feel her throbbing against him. He wants to savour the moment, but he's so desperate, and he pushes inside her at the same time as Tony murmurs, "Come on."

His breath catches in his throat and he throws back his head, eyes falling closed as his cock slides deep into incredible, tight heat. He's fully sheathed inside her within seconds, his hips pressed against her arse, and he brings his head down hesitantly, opening his eyes.

"F-fuck," he mutters, "oh, Effy."

When he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, she gasps and buckles, hands unable to hold her up. She rests on her forearms instead, back arched, arse thrust up, and Freddie starts to really fuck her, his hips pumping shallow and quick. He can't stop touching her, his hands smoothing over the curve of her waist and then up and under to cup her breasts in his palms. Her head is turned towards Tony, and Freddie sees that he's grinning at her. Tony has his boxers crumpled around his ankles now, his hand wrapped around the long shaft of his cock, stroking himself in time with their rhythm. Freddie catches himself staring, but Tony's oblivious anyway, eyes fixed on Effy, hand twisting around his shaft.

A moment later though, Tony's looking at him, and Freddie realises that he didn't actually stop staring. But Tony only tightens his fist and stills it, bucking his hips off the chair to fuck his own hand, staring back at Freddie almost challengingly.

"Fuck her harder," he says, then groans, his hard cock sliding through the circle of his hand. "Show her what you can do, come on."

Freddie tightens his hold on Effy's hips, and starts fucking her deeper, steadily upping the pace until he hears that sound of skin slapping against skin, and she's practically bouncing back against him to meet his thrusts. She's got one hand between her legs, fingers rubbing her clit as he pounds into her, and the bedsprings are starting to creak. Freddie's never actually made bedsprings creak before.

"Is he good, Eff?" Tony asks, his voice sounding less steady, more breathy this time. "You like him fucking you?"

"Yeah," Effy pants, and Freddie cranes his neck to look at her. Her hair is obscuring most of her face, and her cheek is being rubbed against the bed with every movement. The one hand that's still on the bed is gripping the undersheet so hard it's coming loose from the mattress. "Yeah. Fuck."

Tony is sitting back in the chair, hand working his cock furiously as he watches them. "Do you want to be on top?" he asks, voice much more shaky now. "Yeah?"

Whatever Effy's response is, it's not verbal, but he assumes it's positive because Tony looks at Freddie expectantly. Freddie can't face pulling out, though, and he tries to ignore him. He leans down over Effy and fucks her slow and deep, kissing the hot skin of her shoulder. She groans, a deep sound in her throat, and he feels like he could come right away.

"She wants to be on top of you," Tony says, and he's regained the strength of his voice again, that firm assertiveness that makes Freddie feel like he'd better do what he's told. He gestures with one hand, idly stroking his dick with the other. "Come on. I want to see the way her tits move as she rides you." He pauses, breath hitching just a little as the tip of his thumb brushes over the head of his erection. "You can come as you watch her bounce up and down on your dick," he gets out finally, and Freddie almost moans at the thought.

They're hardly graceful as they reposition themselves on the bed, but he doesn't think their audience minds, judging by the slick sound of Tony's hand still jerking his cock. Freddie finds himself no longer bothered by Tony's presence; he's adjusted to it quickly, accepted it as part of this, and if he's completely honest, it's kind of a turn-on being watched.

Eventually, he's lying on the bed and Effy's crouched over him, almost straddling him, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she lowers herself down, reaching back to position his dick where she wants it. When the head of it breaches her, she sucks in a sharp breath, and then slides right down on him in one swift movement, her eyes falling closed again, expression almost blissful.

"Yeah," Tony groans, "come on, yeah. Go on, Eff."

Effy starts to move, rocking back and forth on Freddie's cock, steadying her hands behind her on his thighs, her body outstretched, chest thrust forwards. Her tits sway gently, and he reaches up to touch her, stroke her hard nipples. She feels so good around him, he can't believe how good. His hands slide down around her waist and then down to her arse, and he squeezes, starting to thrust upwards to meet her, but then she's moving faster, lifting herself up off him and slamming down again, regaining the pace they'd reached before. He swears, throwing his head back down onto the pillow.

He's so wrapped up in the feel of her that he's almost forgotten about Tony entirely until he senses a weight on the bed beside him. He opens his eyes to see Tony there, kneeling, getting a closer look. Their frantic movements are making the bed shake again and Tony's stiff cock bounces against his own stomach, wet and reddened at the tip. His eyes are on Effy again. She's hunched over Freddie's body now, hands flat against the bed as she fucks herself on his cock, her messy hair hanging down and tickling his chest.

Tony comes closer, until Freddie feels their hot skin touch, and he leans in close to Effy and eases her up. Freddie's close now, he can feel it, his nerves buzzing. He grabs Effy by the hips, gazing up at her as his hips start to piston up and down erratically. Tony's hand snakes down her stomach, and Freddie's body jerks as he feels Tony's fingers where he and Effy are joined, stroking briefly over the base of his cock before finding Effy's clit and stroking it.

Her head drops onto his shoulder, and she grabs hold of him. "Yes," she whimpers, "yes, fuck!"

Tony rubs her clit faster and Freddie slips into the rhythm, muscles growing tired as he heaves his hips up off the bed over and over, thrusting his cock deep. Tony's other hand goes to his own cock, his fingers curling around it and speeding over the slick length. Freddie feels like he's going to explode when Effy suddenly clenches around him, clinging to Tony and gasping sharply. Freddie's muscles go taut and he grips her hips, coming hard. Intense, almost numbing pleasure rushes through him, and he's distantly aware of a burst of heat splashing across his torso as the room seems to shimmer out of focus around him.

When he comes round, Effy is still on top of him. Her hands stroke up and down his chest and stomach, smearing a wet sheen on his skin that he realises is Tony's come. Stunned, he shudders, an aftershock trembling through him. Effy laps at her fingers nonchalantly, as Tony slouches beside them, milking the very last of his orgasm into his hand. Effy rides Freddie lazily for a little longer until he's fully soft and slipping out of her. She clambers off him, and coolly plucks off the condom, tossing it in the bin along with a tissue she wipes him off with. Her manner is incredibly matter-of-fact, Freddie thinks, as she climbs back into the bed and makes a space for herself between the two boys.

"What, are we just going to go to sleep?" Tony asks, sounding surprised. "The three of us?"

"Yeah, I'm knackered," she shrugs. "And Mum won't be home for another few hours."

Freddie just lies still as Effy locates the sheet from earlier and drapes it over the three of them. She rolls over towards him and nuzzles his shoulder with her nose before kissing him there sweetly.

"Sleep," she whispers, before rolling over onto her back again.


Freddie doesn't sleep, but he doesn't do anything else either. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for his heartbeat to return to its normal rate. By the time it does, Effy is asleep, her head drooping slightly towards Tony. Tony's asleep too, curled in against her. Through the sheet, Freddie can make out the shape of Tony's hand draped over her stomach.

He sits up and swings himself round, and then just sits there for a while, legs hanging off the side of the bed. He can't seem to think properly, and tries to focus on the one thing that matters: he just had sex with Effy. Something he's wanted since the first time he ever saw her. And in spite of the bizarre circumstances, he feels closer to her than he ever has. They've really shared something now.

He finds himself laughing to himself in quiet disbelief, and he gets up, finding his boxers in the heap of clothes on the floor and pulling them on. He wanders over to the window, looking back just once at the sleeping form of Effy in her bed, her expression peaceful and satisfied.

It doesn't look like she and Tony are going to wake up anytime soon, so he decides to go have a piss and get a glass of water or something. He's on his way back over to the bedroom door when he stops abruptly. Something catches his eye and he can't immediately tell what, but it nags at him, makes him turn his head and take a closer look at Effy's dresser.

It's something that's out of place, that's why it's attracted his attention. Effy just doesn't seem the type to have a framed family portrait in her bedroom, especially not one of those awful posed ones that you go to a special photographer to get done. But that's what it is, propped up on the dresser next to a lighter and two eyeliner pencils worn into stubs. He picks it up to get a closer look.

He recognises Mrs. Stonem, though she looks much more tamed and sane than he's ever seen her, smartly dressed and smiling. Next to her is the man Freddie assumes is Effy's Dad, stocky and balding with an expression somewhere between a grin and a grimace. And there's Effy, a few years younger than she is now, looking sullen in a torn black dress and scruffy old trainers. Finally, Freddie's eyes reach the boy beside her, the boy with his arm around her waist. The tall dark-haired boy with the piercing blue eyes.

He turns around, looks at Tony and Effy in the bed, naked and curled up together. He drops the photo frame with a clatter, and Effy squirms under the sheets, sighing sleepily. Her eyes flutter open, and when she sees him, she hoists herself up, looking puzzled. Then she spots the picture, lying face-down on the dresser, and a look of realisation crosses over her face. For a moment, she looks worried, but she's quick to regain her usual aloof demeanor.

"You okay?" she asks.

He says nothing, and she inclines her head, patting the space beside her. Freddie starts to go towards her instinctively, but then stops again. All of a sudden, he doesn't feel that close to her after all. He knew there was a lot he had to learn about her, but he's not sure he realised there was quite this much.

The question is the same as it's always been when it comes to Effy: can he handle it?