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Yeah, so I’ve never been able to leave well enough alone.
It’s about a week before Christmas, and I’m strutting down the street in the Gayborhood, the heels of my stiletto boots clicking on the pavement as an icy wind ruffles the fluffy collar of my bright red coat. I’m grateful for its warmth, for the thick faux fur covering me from my neck to my knees, because I’m barely wearing anything underneath. The coat’s satin lining feels good on my bare skin, but I’m shivering, and I’m not sure whether it’s from cold or anticipation. Probably a little bit of both.
Or maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t eaten since lunch. I know I’m on my way to have sex with two of the biggest bottoms in Philly, but hey, you never know. Az did tell me to be prepared for anything, and a girl can dream.
When I walked out of Crowley’s apartment ten weeks ago after the best threeway of my life, I was pretty sure I had won the lottery. I was riding high on endorphins, as wrung out as a wet noodle, my brain packed with enough erotic imagery to fuel my spank bank for fucking years. I told myself I didn’t need anything else — that I’d had my shot and won, and that I could walk away with my head held high.
But you know how they say “too much of a good thing,” like that’s somehow a bad thing? I’ve never subscribed to that.
Because as it turned out, walking away wasn’t exactly in my repertoire. I couldn’t stop thinking about Az and Crowley — what they might be getting up to without me, and what they might do with me the next time I got them alone. And it doesn’t help that I have to see Crowley at school every goddamn day. I can hear him on the other side of the wall while I’m working in my studio, his charcoal scratching on drawing paper, his brush gliding across his canvas, the slap of his bare feet across the linoleum floor. He’s in my classes too, long legs stretched out under the seminar table, or hunched at his easel, those golden eyes of his intent on his work. And every time he flicks them over at me, I can see him kneeling at my feet, sliding my cock into his mouth, or licking a whole mess of come off my chest with Az’s thick fingers buried in his hair.
So what do I do with a perpetual case of blue balls? I act like the desperate slut I am, of course.
I started coming to school in my tightest jeans. My lowest-cut shirts. I made sure my eyeliner was on point every day. And I put myself out there. I let my hands wander and my voice drop to a purr, and I could tell Crowley knew exactly what I was doing, because of the bedroom eyes he kept shooting my way, the little half-smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. And finally, I was rewarded.
It was about a month ago, a rainy November day right before Thanksgiving. I was sitting in my studio, brushing stain onto a wooden shadow box, when my phone buzzed, skittering across the top of my work bench.
I hesitated for just a moment, blinking at the screen. Then I was on my feet, nearly knocking over my stool as I crossed the studio in just a few strides. I could hear Crowley laughing on the other side of the wall as I shut my studio door, raising my fist to rap my knuckles three times on his, and waiting for him to open it.
“Couldn’t get here fast enough, could you?”
“Shut the fuck up —”
All I know is that I need to kiss that smug grin right off his face. I’m surging forward, grabbing his jaw with both hands, and he’s clutching me by the waist, kicking the door shut behind me and shoving me up against it. I’m hungry, greedy, out of my mind — licking into his mouth like his breath is the last thing keeping me alive, and he’s shoving a knee between my thighs, lifting me up on tiptoes as he devours me, his hard cock pressing against my thigh —
“Wait —”
He’s pulling back just enough to jam his hand into his pocket and drag out his phone. Then he’s crushing me to his chest, cheek pressed against my temple as he snaps a photo. We’re both a little disheveled, eyes shining with lust, kiss-bitten and punch-drunk. When he’s done, he taps out a message, sending the photo on. Almost immediately, his phone buzzes and he grins at the response.
“Az is into us doing this, but he wanted to see,” he explains.
“Well —” I’m nosing along the line of Crowley’s jaw, letting my lips wander down his throat as my hands skate over his skimpy T-shirt, his ribs rippling under my fingers. “Let’s make sure we really give him something to look at.”
And I’m reversing our positions, letting him lean against the door as I slide to my knees, dragging my hot mouth down his torso, unzipping his jeans and tugging his cock out into the open. And as I take him on my tongue, he holds up his phone, and I nod, keeping my eyes on the camera and opening my mouth wide, relaxing my throat so that Az can see me taking his boyfriend to the hilt.
“God, I didn’t know you’d be this much of a cockslut —” he gasps.
I pull off indignantly, just for a minute, and he huffs a laugh. “Baby, you haven’t been paying attention.”
And then I’m bobbing my head, and he’s gripping my hair, his mouth open in silent ecstasy as he tries to keep quiet. And as I dig my fingers into the meat of Crowley’s ass, I figure that being Az and Crowley’s little fucktoy wouldn’t be such a bad gig.
That wasn’t the only time. After Thanksgiving, things got busy, and we both spent a lot of time in our studios, trying to get everything done before the end of the semester. I never saw Az except in passing, when he’d give me a long, hungry stare as he walked down the hall on the way to spend time with Crowley (time that was almost silent, except for a few escaped sighs and the faint shuffle of clothing). But Crowley and I — well, my knees got very familiar with the floor, twice in his studio and once in mine. And somehow we made it through the last few weeks of classes with our sanity mostly intact.
And tonight? It’s a bit of a celebration, a chance to blow off steam before we all head home for the holidays. The whole thing was my idea, but Crowley said I had to go through Aziraphale if I wanted to set it up.
As I walk up the steps of Crowley’s apartment building, I stop, checking my reflection in the glass door, tugging at the sparkly silver ribbon that I’d tied in a bow around my chest. As a final touch, I reach into my bag and pull out a set of glittery reindeer antlers, which I slip onto my head. Then I reach up and press the buzzer.
“Yeah?” Crowley’s voice, warm and teasing.
“It’s me, bitch —”
The door clicks open, and I’m walking into the building, my heels clattering across the tile floor. I take the two flights up to Crowley’s apartment in record time, and when I step out of the stairwell, he’s already in the doorway to his apartment, his low-slung jeans nearly painted on, his forest green T-shirt riding up to reveal a generous strip of midriff, scarlet hair tumbling down to his shoulders.
“Daaamn, baby, you look good enough to eat,” I purr, crossing the last few feet to Crowley’s door and resting a palm on his chest.
“I was just about to say the same thing.”
His golden eyes are heavy-lidded as he gazes down at my face, and he wraps warm fingers around my elbow, drawing me inside and closing the door behind us. I lean against the wall, batting my eyelashes, and he chucks me under the chin, then reaches up to touch one of my antlers.
“These are cute.”
“You don’t think they’re too much?” I bite my lower lip, bracing my heel against the wall.
Crowley cracks a grin, his palm wandering down my chest. “Insecurity, really? I didn’t know you had it in you to doubt yourself even for a moment.”
“I don’t, actually.” Now I’m grinning too, dammit. I can’t help what Crowley does to me. “I just wanted to see if you’d kiss me if I played it coy.”
“Did you now?” His eyes drop to my mouth as he leans in, and I tilt my chin up to meet him.
The first kiss is soft, intimate, just a brush of lips before he pulls away. But then he’s back, a hand sliding into the front of my coat, finding bare skin under all the fur as he pulls me closer, his other hand cupping the curve of my ass. I’m opening my lips to let him in, licking into his mouth, my arm winding around his neck, when I hear a gentle cough from the middle of the room.
“Starting without me, are we?”
Az is standing in the middle of the room, his golden curls a bit damp, his cheeks pink from the shower. He’s wearing a crisp white cotton shirt, open at the neck and rolled up to reveal his forearms, layered over with a dove gray waistcoat. And his eyes are twinkling, a little hungry as he looks us both up and down.
“Sorry, Angel — I just couldn’t help myself.” Crowley sounds a little sheepish, and he tries to pull away, but I turn in his arms, snuggling my back against his chest even as I reach a hand out toward Az.
“There’s enough of me to go around, baby —”
“I can certainly see that —”
He crosses the last few feet to join us, and Crowley pushes me from behind a little, settling me into Az’s arms. Az’s kiss is a little more forceful, assertive, strong fingers cupping my jaw and guiding me to him, a squeeze of my waist as he cores me out. Crowley is behind me, smoothing his hands up and down my flanks, feeling me up through my thick coat, his breath ragged in my ear. He reaches out, pulling me away from Az and back towards his own lips. And I could stand here all night, letting them pass me back and forth between them, consumed with pure lust, but after a few more turns, Az tugs at the front of my coat.
“Where are our manners? We shouldn’t leave you standing here, my dear.”
“Standing, lying, kneeling —” I cup my hand over the front of Az’s trousers, and Crowley snorts, nuzzling the nape of my neck. “You can have me however you want.”
With a soft chuckle, Az takes my hand. He leads me away from the vestibule and into the room, which has been transformed into something magical. The bed is folded down and freshly made, and they’ve hung fairy lights across the ceiling, bathing it in a soft glow. There’s a small Christmas tree in the corner, and the air smells good, like they’ve been baking or something. But I only have a moment to take it all in, because Az is drawing me across the carpet to the bed, climbing up onto the mattress and inviting me to kneel in front of him. Crowley is behind me, his hands on my upper arms, chest pressed against my back as he kisses the side of my face.
“Such a lovely present he makes — don’t you think, darling?” Az is fingering one of the ends of my silver ribbon, meeting Crowley’s gaze over my shoulder. Crowley growls in agreement, grinding his cock against my ass as he drops his hands to my waist. “It seems like such a shame to tear him open, when he’s decorated himself so prettily.”
“Oh, I see —” I slide my hands up Az’s forearms. “You’re the type who lingers over your presents, pulling off the tape just a little bit at a time?”
“You have no fucking idea —” Crowley groans, taking two handfuls of my ass. “He’s like an old man — and I’m like, just rip the fucking paper already —”
“Just because I like to appreciate the fine thing in front of me —” Az huffs.
He tugs at the ribbon tied around my chest, undoing the bow and winding the ends around both hands as he reels me in for a kiss. I can feel Crowley’s hands wandering between us, undoing the buttons of my coat and brushing his fingers over my bare belly. When he hooks his thumb into my waistband, palming my cock, I can’t help groaning against Az’s lips. If I don’t get a cock in my mouth soon, I am probably going to die right here in Crowley’s bed.
“Such an eager pet,” Az purrs. “Let me take a look at you —”
Crowley slips his arms underneath mine, pinning me back against his chest, and Az hums contentedly, spreading my coat wide. Underneath it, I’m wearing nothing but a red leather harness and a skimpy pair of black briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I know I’m leaving a wet spot on the shiny silk, my cock dripping precome and straining against the material.
Az lifts an eyebrow. “My goodness, you do look desperate. I wonder if you might undress me?”
He lets his arms fall to his sides, and Crowley releases me, chuckling a little as I shuffle forward. My cheeks are burning, and my fingers feel like sausages as I reach for Az’s waistcoat, fumbling with the buttons in a haze as the blood pounds underneath my skin. Behind me, Crowley is shifting, lifting the hem of my coat just enough to unzip my boots, dropping them next to the bed. I’ve just managed to unbutton Az’s shirt all the way when Crowley’s hands are there too, peeling the shirt off his boyfriend’s shoulders and tossing it aside.
“I can just tell Az is dying to rub himself all over this coat,” Crowley teases, turning me on the bed and pressing me against Az’s bare chest. “Want to indulge him, babe?”
“Mmm, I think that can be arranged.” I reach behind me, catching hold of Az’s curls and dragging him forward to kiss me as I snuggle deep into his arms. Az rumbles affectionately, and I can feel his cock poking against my back as he rubs his hands up and down my arms.
Across from us, Crowley snickers. “You’re like a fucking cat, I swear to God.”
Az breaks off from kissing me and shoots Crowley a look of mirth disguised as exasperation. “Darling, might I invite you most affectionately to fuck off?”
Crowley just laughs. He reaches for the hem of his T-shirt, stripping it off to reveal his freckled skin, and then he’s crossing the bed, tipping my chin up to kiss me.
It sort of gets hazy with me for a while. I just can’t explain what these guys do to me, how I completely lose myself when I’m hooking up with them. I’m not in love with them or anything. I know that they’re the real story, and I’m just the slutty friend who shows up to have fun with them sometimes. I certainly haven’t stopped seeking out having my own fun. But I dunno — maybe it’s because all three of us have been on the receiving end so many times, with guys who don’t necessarily give a shit whether we get off or not, but Az and Crowley just know how to touch me, how to make me feel good. I’m supposed to be here tonight as a present for them, but it’s just like it was the last time — they’re passing me back and forth, kissing me, spoiling me, and it’s all I can do to keep my head on my shoulders, to give back as good as I’m getting.
At some point, Az finally lets Crowley slip the coat off my shoulders, and I’m glad, because I was pretty sure I was going to die of heatstroke if the horniness didn't kill me first. And once I’m bare, they both take full advantage of my harness, tugging me back and forth between them, making sure that I know exactly how much they both want me. Fuck, I hope they ask me to do this again.
I’m kneeling between them, one hand down the front of Az’s boxers while I grab Crowley’s ass with the other. Az is mouthing kisses along my shoulder, and Crowley is twisting one of his nipples while he takes my mouth, a possessive hand looped around my waist.
“Mmm —” I groan, forcing my eyes open. “Thought I’d be on the ground sucking you both off by now.”
“Is that what you’d like?” Az murmurs, lifting his head and meeting Crowley’s gaze. “Because we were thinking —”
Crowley lifts my chin, and I’m lost in two amber pools of affection. “I was wondering if you might like me to fuck you.”
“I mean —” I glance over at Az, who has amusement dancing in his eyes, and then back up at Crowley. “Is that — I didn’t know you guys would —”
“Crowley has been embracing his inner service top,” Az explains simply, and Crowley snorts.
“But what about —” I gesture toward Az, and he takes my hand.
“He’s been hearing so much about what your mouth can do, and I think he wants to find out for himself,” Crowley growls into my ear, and a hot ball of need settles deep in my stomach.
I clear my throat. “Hm, well — fuck, I’m in —”
Suddenly, we’re all moving. Crowley grabs me and kisses me once, hard — and then we’re stripping off remaining clothing, settling into position. I’m still wearing my harness, but Crowley and Az are both bare, mouthwatering in the soft light. Az is settling back among the pillows, leaning against the wall with his legs spread. He reaches out to grab my harness, pulling me forward, and I’m crawling between his knees, leaning down to kiss him as Crowley rummages through the bedside table for the lube.
I could get lost here, resting on Az’s broad frame, grinding my cock against his belly as he cradles my face, coring me out from the inside with his kisses. But I have a job to do, and I break away with a whine, nuzzling my way down the side of his throat, through the dark blond fur covering his chest, pausing to tease a nipple with my tongue. I can feel Crowley kneeling behind me, his touch featherlight on my ass, spreading me apart, and I could get lost there too — lost in a fantasy that I never thought would come true. But I keep my attention on Az, my lips wandering down his belly, only the barest hiss of pleasure escaping my mouth as two slippery fingers tease my rim. Crowley is being impossibly tender, a real gentleman, and I appreciate it, even as I’m rolling my hips backward to take his fingers more deeply.
“This isn’t my first time, you know —” I groan, resting my face in the hollow of Az’s hip.
“He likes to take his time,” Az purrs, his hand coming to rest on the top of my head (I’d lost the glittery antlers some time ago). “But as for you —”
“I’m fine with diving right in —” I lick a stripe up the side of Az’s cock, relishing the cry of pleasure as I swallow him down.
Now, don’t get me wrong — I like to be spoiled just as much as the next person does. But there’s just something about sucking cock, about knowing a guy’s pleasure is completely up to me, about engaging in something so intimate, that just does it for me. And by that measure, Az is perfect. He’s stretching my mouth just right, bumping up against the back of my throat as he grinds his hips on the bed, letting out these little cries of pleasure that are seriously inflating my ego. And he has his hand on the side of my face, cradling me like I’m made of glass, and the gentleness is setting off something in my hindbrain, even as I’m gorging myself on his clean scent and the taste of his skin on my tongue.
But then Crowley’s grabbing my hips, lining up to press his cockhead against my hole, and I start to lose the thread a little bit. Az’s hand is in my hair, gripping my curls as he slows my pace, and when I glance up at him, he’s looking over my head, his stormcloud eyes focused on Crowley’s face.
“You’re beautiful —” Az murmurs, and Crowley huffs, his fingers tightening on my bare skin.
Then he’s moving his hips, working his way inside my body inch by inch, and I go slack, my pace up and down Az’s shaft slowing to a crawl as I shut my eyes, breathing into the exquisite stretch, the way my thighs tremble as Crowley takes me.
“My dear —” Az eases me off his cock, caressing my cheek. “It’s alright with me if you just want to enjoy this.”
“Fuck —” Crowley bottoms out, and I can’t help moaning, my fingers clawing the bedspread on either side of Az’s body. “Sorry, I’m —”
“No need for that, sweetheart —” And Az lifts my chin, guiding me forward for a soft, syrupy kiss. Behind me, Crowley is beginning to thrust — slow, shallow strokes that match the pace of Az’s tongue — and I whimper into Az’s mouth, bracing my hands against his chest as Crowley takes me apart.
There’s a tug on the back of my harness, and I answer it, pushing myself back onto my heels and settling against Crowley’s chest. He’s still driving into me, and I bounce on his lap, meeting each of his thrusts as I let my head loll back onto his shoulder. He’s giving me that look, the one that makes me feel like I’m in on some private joke only he and I share, and he leans down to drag me into a messy kiss, the hand that isn’t gripping my harness loosely wrapped around the front of my throat. When he pulls away, he nods conspiratorially towards Az.
“He likes to watch.”
I turn my face back towards the head of the bed, and sure enough, Az is taking us both in, his eyes glazed over with sheer want, his cheeks pink and his curls disheveled. He’s sprawled among the pillows, his legs spread wide, and his hand is traveling slowly up and down his shaft as he takes us in. When he sees us looking, he smiles a little hazily.
“You know I love to see you enjoying yourself, darling — and I knew you’d make a pretty picture with our dear guest —”
I’ve never felt more like a piece of meat, and I’m pretty sure I like it.
“You’re such a fucking hedonist, Angel —” Crowley growls affectionately. He mouths a kiss against the side of my face, and then he’s pushing me back down into a tabletop position, my hands on the bed. He hasn’t let go of my harness, and now he’s using it to keep me in place while he drills into me, hitting my prostate over and over, lighting me up from the inside out.
My lips are inches from Az’s face, and I’m sure he can feel the little puffs of air that fall from my mouth with each of Crowley’s thrusts. He reaches out, running his fingers down the midline of my face and then slipping two into my mouth, moaning softly when I begin to suck them.
“That’s it, my dear — let him take care of you, just like he takes care of me — you take cock just as beautifully as he does —”
“Shit —” I don’t know quite what Az means by that, but they’ve dropped a few hints in the past about what they get into when I’m not around, and I have a wild imagination. It’s working overdrive right now, in fact, with Crowley inside me and Az beneath me, and I wonder — I wonder —
I’m riding high along a knife’s edge, and from the way Az is looking at me, I know he clocks the tension in my face, the way I’m shaking as Crowley pushes me closer and closer —
“You can let go —” he murmurs, caressing my face. “You’re so close, I can feel it —”
“No —” I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. “Want —”
“Anything, my dear —”
Az is so pretty, his eyes soft and warm, his curls messy from tossing his head among the pillows. Fuck, I might as well swing for the fences. “Can I — when he’s done — can I ride you? I mean — is it okay?”
He freezes, his eyes flicking past my shoulder to meet Crowley’s gaze. “Darling — is that okay with you? We didn’t discuss —”
“Fine with me if it’s fine with you —” Crowley gasps, and it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth, concentrating all his energy on chasing his own peak. Az nods his assent, and then Crowley picks up the pace, slamming into me with all his might, making me cry out over and over as he takes me. With a guttural cry, he lets go, and I can feel him spilling deep, his come trickling down my inner thigh as he works himself through the aftershocks, finally pulling out and sitting back on his haunches. “Now show me what you can do, baby —”
I don’t waste a minute. I’m straightening up on my knees, straddling Az’s hips and lining myself up, giving Az a chance to guide himself inside me as I rest my palms on his furry chest. The first breach is filthy, the hot squelch of Crowley’s spend easing my way as I take Az all at once. His eyes are nearly rolling back in his head, his fingers like iron on my thighs, and I give him a moment, feeling like some delicious cross between a whore and a sex god. Then I’m rolling my hips, and his eyes fly open, his creamy skin flushing red all over, his mouth open in a little O as he watches me.
Crowley is chuckling, moving in behind me, one hand circling my waist, his hot breath on my ear. “That’s just how he likes it — ride him nice and easy, you gorgeous little slut — know how good it feels to have his cock inside you — can you believe he never topped before he met me?”
“You two are depraved —” I manage to hiss, and Crowley laughs outright. Then he’s dropping his lips to my shoulder, biting down and sucking a bruise into my flesh, and I’m lost to sensation — lips and teeth and Az’s barrel chest and his fat cock splitting me open and his wide eyes taking me in and the way I’m shaking, my whole body a single raw nerve —
And then Crowley is wrapping a slippery palm around my sorely neglected cock, and I cry out as he touches me, the sensation nearly overwhelming —
And I’m bouncing and crying, and Az is coming apart, thrusting up into me each time I crash down, and I’m not sure whether he falls apart first or I do, but suddenly I’m consumed by it — a bright flash across my consciousness as I spill over Az’s chest — as he grunts and fills me — as we shudder together, coming down from our high, Crowley’s arms wrapped around my shoulders —
And Crowley is guiding me down onto the bed, snuggling me against Az’s chest, and then he’s curling up behind me, throwing an arm across my waist and grounding me with his weight. And we all start to giggle, giddy and exhausted and totally, completely sated.
“Was that what you were looking for?” Crowley asks innocently, walking his fingers down my bicep.
I glance over my shoulder, taking in his crooked smirk, the mirth dancing in his eyes. “Bitch, I think it’s safe to say that whatever I was expecting, this was way better.”
Crowley reaches past me to poke Az in the belly. “How about you, Angel? Are you still with us?”
Az lifts the hand that was covering his face, running his fingers through his rumpled curls. “I believe I do still have a body, yes — whether I am currently occupying it remains to be seen —”
“You look pretty solid to me —”
Crowley tickles Az’s ribs, and Az swats him away playfully. I reach out to grab Crowley’s fingers, pulling his hand towards my chest and hugging his arm.
“Could we, uh — I dunno, just be for a minute?” I suggest. “Feels good — being here with you guys —”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Az agrees, and it’s a long time before any of us moves again.
“So, how does all of this work, exactly? Do you guys have — I dunno — Barbie dolls of all your gay friends and you decide who to fuck every week? A calendar? Tarot cards? I’m just curious.”
I’m sitting cross-legged on Crowley’s bed in my underwear and one of Az’s white undershirts, the soft cotton swimming on my frame, scarfing down a piece of spice cake in between sips of tea. Apparently, having my brains fucked out and then filling my belly for the first time in hours has destroyed what’s left of my filter.
Thankfully, Az laughs. He’s sitting primly at the head of the bed in a T-shirt and pajama pants, and Crowley, in nothing but a pair of boxers, is lying back against his chest. “It’s not quite like that —”
“Well, it is sort of complicated —” Crowley chimes in.
“Scheduling, perhaps, but Jim handles most of that —”
“Who’s Jim?” I ask, gathering the remaining crumbs on my plate with my fork.
Crowley and Az exchange glances, and then Crowley turns to me. “He’s this top we met at a bar a few months back —”
“He’s not always a top, darling —”
“Well, he is unless your name is Bee —” Crowley snorts.
“Which is rather sweet if you ask me —” Az lifts an eyebrow, and Crowley laughs.
“I mean, you’re the one who talks to him all the time —”
Az is blushing bright red. “I do not —”
“Suuuure —” For a moment, I’m not sure if they’re actually taking digs at each other. But then Crowley tips his face upwards, wrapping his arm around the back of Az’s neck and dragging him down into a slow kiss. When he pulls back, he reaches out a hand toward me, and I take it, cautiously shuffling across the bed. “Besides, how can I blame you when I can’t keep my hands off this little slut?”
Something about the way he says it hits different, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I look down at Crowley’s fingers, intertwined with mine. “Um —”
Az, of course, clocks me immediately. “My dear, we’ve made you uncomfortable —”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just —” I pull my hand back, hugging my own torso. “Uh, I guess — where do I fit? I mean, I’m not saying we have to be a throuple or anything but —”
I don’t want to get my stupid heart broken. But I’m not gonna say that out loud.
“I really like you,” Crowley says emphatically. “And Az —”
“I find that I don’t have much use for monogamy,” Az interjects, his face tender as he tucks a lock of scarlet hair behind Crowley’s ear. “Much as I love you, darling — I don’t need to own every part of you.”
I consider this, and I think back over the last few weeks — the thrill of everything I’ve been doing with Crowley, the satisfaction of knowing that Az is getting off on it, the way they both took care of me tonight. And I can feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I like how things are right now. You guys — nnhhh, you make me feel like a fleshlight or something. But in a good way. I’m into it.”
Az giggles, holding out his free arm, and I snuggle against his chest, Crowley’s face only inches from mine. “You’re much more than a fleshlight, dear —”
Crowley’s eyes are dancing. “Yeah, I mean — a fleshlight shuts up occasionally —”
“You bitch!” I gasp. But I’m laughing, and Crowley is grabbing my hand, kissing my fingertips. “Maybe I should fuck you next time.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, princess,” Crowley cackles, and Az tugs at a lock of his hair. The tension broken, we settle into banter, cuddling and swapping kisses until late into the night.
I don’t need a love story. I don’t need a last-minute dash through the airport. I don’t need kisses in the rain or a boombox under my window. But knowing where I stand? Knowing I can have this dumb little crush, and nobody is gonna judge me for it? That these guys want me in their lives? I’m pretty sure that’s enough for me.