by Aidan Wayne
“So? You want to, he wants to, I want you to. Go ahead.”
Skye’s hand clenched on the comforter of the bed, but Brent was right there and they had been having a good time and now Russell was… leading things? Talking him through it? It eased something, to have it taken out of his hands. But to be sure, “Brent? Is that okay with you?”
Brent cupped Skye’s cheek. “Very, very okay.”
***
Russell said his goodnights and hung up several minutes later, after a lot of kissing and a little more talking and Skye stuttering his way through telling both of them how good it all felt.
After, he and Brent got ready for bed and curled up together in Brent’s king to go to sleep.
Being held by Brent, with Russell just recently in his ear, to Skye it felt a bit like coming home.
***
Skye and Russell still got to see each other pretty much every day, what with the show. Outside of the show, Russell was usually at Skye’s place, or they were out and about the city together.
Brent’s schedule was a lot more difficult to work around, especially between Skye and Russell’s hours. There was a lot of texting and phone calls. When he could, Skye spent the night over at Brent’s place, even if the most that ever happened was kissing and cuddling. The last thing Brent seemed to want to do was push. Same with Russell.
Skye wished he could make himself more comfortable with doing things with them solo. Nothing had been like the first night, when they’d all been together. He’d been nervous but not anxious, turned on, excited. And now, with either one of them, he still was those things, but for some reason he shied away from going any further than heavy petting. He wanted to. For himself, for them.
Why was he so messed up?
“You’re not,” Russell insisted. “You’re allowed to not be comfortable with something. I get it. We get it.”
“I guess part of me is still wondering when you’re both going to find someone who can actually commit.”
Russell raised an eyebrow. “You’re not committed?”
“Who can commit to one person.” Skye shook his head. “Sorry, sorry, I know. We’ve talked about it. But wanting to be able to have sex with you guys isn’t because I’m hoping to pay me way or trying to make you stay with me or something. I think it’s something we’d like. I want to have that, with you.”
“And we’ll be right here, when you’re ready.”
There was the we again. Brent did it a lot too. Talked like he and Russell were a matched set. Sometimes Skye felt like they were. They were both just so good to him.
“Would you?” he asked slowly, an idea coming to him. “Would you both? I-I mean.” His cheeks went hot. He couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting this. “Would you both be… with me? At the same time?”
Now both Russell’s eyebrows shot up. “That wouldn’t freak you out?”
Skye shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think it’d be a relief. To not be worried about how you felt. Because you’d both… be there. Sorry, I–I know that’s super weird and selfish–”
“Skye.” Russell rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve um, we’ve maybe already thought about it.”
“You–what? You have?”
Russell nodded. “Well, yeah. I mean, Brent and I talk too.” Right, right, Skye knew that. Of course they did. And he was grateful for it. “And you come up. What we, uh, what we want to do with you.” He averted his eyes. “Sharing you is… definitely something we’ve talked about.”
Skye knew his own eyes were wide. “Really.”
“Yeah. I–I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“It doesn’t,” he said dumbly. It didn’t. But it was startling, to hear Russell say he and Brent had actively discussed having sex with Skye at the same time. “What–what did you… what did you guys want?”
Russell coughed. “You sure it doesn’t freak you out?”
“I don’t think so,” he said slowly, thinking about it. Then, more sure of himself, “No. It doesn’t. Like I said, uh, it actually… it actually might help.”
“Okay. Okay. Maybe we should let Brent know, yeah?”
Skye hesitantly smiled. “Yeah.”
***
Brent’s reaction was to immediately invite them both out to dinner and then back to his place for “whatever Skye decides he wants to happen.”
Dinner itself was an evening of talking and laughter, the kind that put Skye at ease even with the jitters for what might take place next. He enjoyed watching Brent and Russell together. He already knew that they were old friends, but being with them in the same vicinity made it all the clearer just how well they got on with each other, and how well they knew each other. Brent would start a story and then nod at Russell to add parts in. Russell would rib Brent in a way that made him grin and roll his eyes.
And through it all, Skye still somehow managed to be the center of their attentions.
“This was back when Gloria still was talking Russell into being an actual model,” Brent was in the middle of saying, while Skye listened eagerly. Russell didn’t do a whole lot of talking about the months he spent on a runway stage, instead of just behind the scenes. “So she’s doing a show about repurposed materials. A lot of old clothes and blankets and other items that aren’t usually wearable, turned into clothing–”
Russell sighed. “And she puts me in this ripped up white top and jeans made of like, fifteen different pairs of jeans.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Skye’d worn way weirder.
“It was a lot of skin,” Russell said. “And anyway, that’s not the bad part.”
“You mean the fun part,” Brent said. Russell snorted. Brent continued, “After the show, everyone’s milling around and talking to Gloria, and Russell comes out dressed in his day clothes–”
“You know, to support her.”
“–and he gets totally surrounded. People want to give him their number, or take his, and he got like three different offers for modeling contracts.”
“It was horrible,” Russell groaned. “It was basically the most attention I’d ever had in my life. No thank you.”
“I was the one who saw him get trapped,” Brent added. “So I rescued him.”
Russell snorted. “He pulled me out of the crowd and I just hid backstage until I could say goodbye to Gloria, and then I fled.”
Skye laughed. It was hilarious how different he and Russell were when it came to the spotlight. Skye loved performing. Russell would only be caught dead on stage if he was fixing someone’s costume.
“That was it,” Russell said. “I was firmly backstage-only from then on.”
“I’m glad you decided to do that,” Skye said. “I don’t know what I’d do without your help during quick changes.” He grinned and added, “Don’t know what I’d do without you period.”
“Thanks, Skye. Back atcha.” Russell tilted his head in Brent’s direction. “But now you gotta say something nice to him too, so he doesn’t feel left out.”
Brent rolled his eyes.
“I’m glad Brent is so ridiculous about performers he likes,” Skye said. “And that he asked me out in the first pace, even if it gave me a panic attack.”
“It what?” Brent looked so scandalized that Skye had to laugh again.
“It’s okay,” he said waving a hand. “I get a panic attack like once a week.”
“That–Skye, that’s not a good thing.”
Skye shrugged. “I’m exaggerating. Panic attacks don’t happen too often to me anymore. Just, you know, sometimes. And I’m way better than I used to be. I was put on a medication a few years ago that brought things way, way down. I used to get sick before every audition, and nearly every performance.” Once he was onstage he was golden. But getting there… “And if you think I have a hard time choosing things now.”
“I didn’t know it used to be that bad,” Russell said. “You’re really amazing.”
“What for?”
; “For being able to go after what you love, even if it was so hard for you. That takes a lot.”
“Thanks.” Skye ducked his head, trying to fight down a blush. The praise made him feel hot. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“It sounds like it was a very big deal,” Brent said. “I’m glad you’re doing better now.”
“Yeah.” Skye smiled. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to handle this if he weren’t. Right now, as they headed to Brent’s place, it was true he was nervous. He was, by all accounts, about to have sex with both his boyfriends at the same time.
They were going to share him.
Yeah, he was nervous. But mostly he was excited. “Me too.”
***
Once they got to Brent’s apartment and kicked off their shoes, Brent shrugged out of his suit jacket and then paused in the living room. “Alright,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Um.” This was real. This was happening. What was Skye’s life. “Good? Nervous. But not anxious.”
“That’s a good start,” Russell said, pressing a hand to Skye’s back.
Words, words, “I… I don’t want to take the lead. If that’s okay. But I’ll say if I don’t like something, or I’m not comfortable with something.”
Brent looked at him. “You promise?”
Skye nodded. He remembered Brent’s expression from before. He never wanted to make anyone feel like that ever again. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” he said, looking to Russell now. “How do you want to do this?”
Russell laughed. “Bed or couch?”
“Bed would be easier to fit all of us.”
“Skye?” Russell asked, “That okay with you?”
Skye nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
Brent smiled and took the lead, Skye and Russell trailing behind him, Russell still a warm hand on Skye’s back. Once they got into the bedroom though, Russell pushed Skye at Brent. “It’s only fair,” he said. “I’ve been getting him a lot more, lately.”
Brent grinned at them both and stepped closer to Skye. “What do you think?”
“I-I think I like that you guys are like this.” Working together, working with each other.
“Well,” Brent said, cupping the back of Skye’s head, “We’ve got some good incentive.”
Russell took Skye’s mouth next when Brent moved away. “Hey,” he murmured against his lips, fingers running underneath the hem of Skye’s T, brushing the skin there. “Could we get this off you?”
“Y-yeah, yeah.” Nervous energy thrummed through him as Russell helped him pull the shirt up and off, and then Skye gasped when Brent pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades, the touch unexpected but welcome.
They were both mapping him with their mouths, tongues and, carefully, a hint of teeth, hands roaming over his torso. Skye clung to them and tried to stay standing, grateful that they were both so close because they were pretty much the only thing holding him up.
One of their hands came to rest on the curve of his ass, squeezing once before dipping a thumb underneath the waistband of his shorts. “Can this go too?” Brent, that was Brent, asked.
Skye nodded, eyes squeezed shut, as Russell surged back up to kiss him and then reached down to undo the button and slide down the zipper.
“Oh fuck,” Skye gasped, as Russell palmed him.
“Good?” Russell asked, checking in.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Good,” Brent murmured in his ear.
“Are–are you two–”
“Mm-hm?”
“Clothes,” Skye managed. “It’s not fair.”
Russell grinned at him and tugged off his shirt.
***
After they’d all gotten naked and after a lot more kisses and touches, Skye’s mind whirling, Russell and Brent maneuvered him until he was squirming in Brent’s lap, Brent running his hands over Skye’s body as Russell got down on his knees.
“So here’s the thing,” Russell said easily as he tore open a condom packet, like Skye wasn’t going crazy. “Remember how I said Brent and I talked?”
“Yes, yeah–”
“Well I’ve been wanting to blow you for months. And Brent likes to watch, apparently.”
Brent kissed the back of Skye's neck. “When someone’s worth watching.”
“That okay with you?”
“Yes, oh my god–” and then he choked as Russell took him in hand and rolled the condom on.
“You did want us to take the lead,” Brent said. Skye could hear his wicked grin.
“Not–” he gasped as Russell sucked him down, glanced up at him. “–not complaining.”
***
Skye felt like he was floating. Just a bundle of loose, hazy sensation, completely overwhelmed but oh it felt good. Neither Brent nor Russell made him make a single decision, just coaxed him into shifting positions, encouraged him with soft words and searing touches. Every so often his chin was tilted up for kisses, which he gave eagerly, or permission was asked–and he tried to answer as best he could. Breathlessly say yes, yes, yes, please keep going, please.
Eventually they laid him down, Brent holding him while Russell left the bed, returning with warm, wet cloths that were used to gently wipe him clean. Then he was maneuvered under the covers and into Russell’s arms. Making sure that he wasn’t alone, even as Brent padded away for a moment.
“Mm?” Skye asked blearily, when Brent slid back into the bed and curled an arm around him.
Brent chuckled and pressed a kiss to Skye’s shoulder. “I turned down the thermostat. So we won’t suffocate you.”
Skye let out a pleased sigh as they both pushed closer to him. They drifted off in a contented, sated tangle, and Skye couldn’t have possibly felt safer.
Chapter 11
The show went on and kept getting good reviews. The growing popularity had everyone buzzing with excitement. More and more people started waiting outside the backstage door, and seemed to want nothing else but to give flowers and gifts and ask for autographs.
It was a lot of attention, but Skye was plenty happy with the attention he was already getting.
Brent still came to see the show every once in awhile (“You really don’t have to–” “Skye, I genuinely like the show, and I like watching you in it.” “Then at least let me or Brent help comp you for tickets.” “Skye, please. I’m pretty sure I’m good for it.”) and when he did, he and Skye went out together. Russell coming along sometimes, sometimes leaving them to their alone time.
The same thing happened with Russell. He and Skye met up during the day before work, went out on dates without Brent and sometimes with. When they were all together, they still usually ganged up him, but Skye liked it. Liked that they were so in-tune with each other, that they seemed to enjoy making their own effort.
Linda was basically the worst, because she teased Skye all the time–and Michael and Yael were insufferable once they found out. But even once it became common knowledge it… it wasn’t a problem. He still got along with the cast and crew. They were his friends and his family, and he also got to have both Russell and Brent.
There were still days that he felt selfish. But then he saw Russell smile at him or got a text from Brent asking about his day and he pushed that down. He cared about them both so, so much. And they seemed just as happy.
Things were working.
***
Skye met Russell before the show like he usually did now, and instantly knew something was wrong. Everything about Russell’s posture showed that he was upset, and he was looking through costumes like he wanted to be anywhere but backstage.
“Russell?” Skye asked, coming up to him. “What’s wrong?”
Russell looked at the floor. “Charlotte died,” he said quietly.
Skye sucked in a breath. Charlotte was Russell’s pet ball python. She was completely adorable–basically a chubby puppy in snake form. Russell had trained her to tolerate head touches, and he often did tricky hand-beading or embroidery wor
k with her curled up in his lap. He’d had her for almost fifteen years. “I’m so sorry.”
Russell swallowed. “It was really awful too. She had something like a seizure and…” he sighed. “It’s not like I can bury her.” No yards to do it in.
Skye caught Russell up in a hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Thanks.” A whisper.
“Call in thirty!”
“Thank you thirty,” Skye mumbled, cradling the back of Russell’s head, whose face was in the crook of Skye’s neck. To Russell he said, “We’ll figure something out. I’ll help.”
“Thanks, Skye.” Russell let out a breath. “I should start helping get wigs on.” But he pulled away slowly.
Skye kissed the corner of his mouth, gave Russell’s hand a squeeze. “Break a leg out there.”
Russell looked up at him in surprise. “You too.”
“I will.”
***
When Skye was wigged and in costume and had fifteen minutes before he needed to get into position, he used the time to pull out his phone. Tried to figure out what he wanted to search and ended up typing in, “Pet cemeteries, New York City.”
There were several results that came up; enough that it was surprising. But, Skye figured, it made sense. There were a lot of people out there like Russell, who had beloved pets and no yards to bury them in. Reading thorough reviews, Skye decided on Pet Haven Services. They had a phone call for “urgent matters” and Skye figured that this counted. He grabbed up his phone and his wallet and ducked out of the dressing room.
Ten minutes later and he’d bought a burial service and plot for a snake. He figured, if Russell didn’t want it, Skye’d just be out some money, and he could maybe donate it to someone else who wanted a service. And if Russell did, it would be a nice gesture.
“Call in five!”
“Thank you five,” Skye muttered, as he stashed his phone and wallet again and went to get into position.
