PART FIVE

Jensen considers telling Jared what he and Tahmoh discussed last night. He loses his resolve as soon as he sees his best friend.

“Looks like you didn’t get much sleep,” Jared says, meeting Jensen in the hallway between their classrooms. Students rush past as Jared moves to stand beside him. “And I don’t mean in a sexy way. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Moh and I were up for a while.”

Jared sighs. “Was it because of the thing I said about almost asking Tahmoh out?”

“No—not exactly."

“It kinda slipped out. I never meant to say it.”

“I'm fine with it,” Jensen assures him.

“Fine with me saying I wanted to date your boyfriend?”

The bells rings, interrupting their conversation and herding them into their classrooms along with their students. It's not until the school day is over that Jensen sees him again.

"Let's have dinner tomorrow night," Jensen says when he finds Jared raiding the supply room for a package of blue essay books. Tahmoh leaves town in the morning and Jensen needs the extra time to corral his emotions. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about what Tahmoh wanted to say the other night; there's only possibility that make sense. "I'll make reservations at Turner's Steakhouse."

"You only take me to Turner's when you've done something wrong, or when one of us breaks up with somebody. What's going on?"

"Maybe I just want some red meat," Jensen suggests. "Moh doesn't eat like that during the season."

Jared grabs a second stack of books—he must have one killer exam planned—and shrugs. "Fine, I'll let you buy me a ridiculously expensive piece of meat."

It's true that they only meet at Turner's when one of them needs to grovel or when a well-cooked steak is the only cure for heartbreak. However, this isn't a conversation Jensen wants to have in a noisy bar or over cheap takeout.

The steakhouse is busy, but it is a Friday night. Jensen gets there first and gives the host his name. Jared shows up just in time for the man to seat them at a seductively lit booth towards the back of the restaurant. Jensen's not sure whether he's pleased or pissed that the atmosphere reminds him of a date. Everything from the rich leather seats that warm to Jensen's touch, to Jared's darkest pair of jeans makes him think of sex.

“Did you tell Moh we were going out to dinner?”

Jensen nods. “He knows I can’t go too long without red meat.”

He talked to Tahmoh that morning while his boyfriend was on the bus. Jensen could hear him yawning over the phone—he'd needed to wake up criminally early to meet Felicia in Calhoun's parking lot.

“Are you going to tell him?” Tahmoh asked. His voice was low and calming, the way it always was when he awoke beside Jensen in the mornings.

“Not tonight," Jensen told him, "although I think there’s a way to see if he’s interested.” He waited for Tahmoh to agree, or disagree, or ask him what his plans were, but he was conspicuously silent. A shadow passed through Jensen's mind, bringing with it the unease he felt earlier. Tahmoh was worried and he wasn't telling Jensen the reason.“Just trust me, okay?”

To which Tahmoh responded, “I do.”

Their steaks arrive before the rumbling in Jensen’s stomach turns to mutiny. A thick filet for Jared, crusted in pepper, and a strip steak for Jensen. A bowl of Turner’s specialty mashed potatoes and another filled with steaming, locally sourced vegetables roasted to perfection sit in the middle of the table to be split between them.

“Oh my god.” Jared’s moan is as close to sexual as it gets without being naked. “We need to come here more often.”

Jensen scoffs. “We’re teachers, man. We can’t afford that.”

While they devote themselves to eating, their conversation is nothing out of the ordinary. Jared lets Jensen try a piece of his filet (safer to ask than to just stick his fork in Jared’s meat—that’s a good way to lose a finger) and Jensen lets him have the lion’s share of the potatoes. It’s only when their plates have been removed that Jensen’s thoughts return to purpose. He has few clues to go on, but he think he might know why Tahmoh's acting strange.

Jared’s looking at the dessert menu when Jensen says, “I'm pretty sure Tahmoh’s afraid I’m gonna leave him for you.”

Jared’s jaw drops before he gathers himself and says, “And you told him that was complete bullshit, I hope. We’ve been over this.”

“He how I feel about you.” Jensen chooses his words carefully. He doesn’t want to make Jared angry, or lead him in the wrong direction. “He said that you and I probably would’ve ended up together if he hadn’t come between us.”

“He didn’t come between us, Jen,” Jared insists with quiet vehemence, keeping their conversation from reaching other tables. “I decided not to ask him out—that was my choice. If you and Moh hadn’t started dating, I might never have told you how I felt.”

“Don't my feelings matter, too? Ever since college, there’s been something between us,” Jensen points out. “I remember the night you watched me with that guy.”

“Jensen—”

“And I remember wondering if you were as straight as you claimed.”

“I was straight back then. It took me years to figure out what I was feeling, and it wasn’t until Tahmoh that I even considered letting you know.”

Jensen takes a deep breath, bracing himself. “If I left Tahmoh, would you want to date me?”

Jared’s gaze narrows when he looks across the table. “You want to break up with him?”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“You wouldn’t leave Tahmoh unless there was something wrong, and you would’ve told me if that happened. Where the hell is this coming from?” Jensen watches Jared attempt to calm himself down before he boils over at the table. Fortunately they haven’t attracted the attention of other diners. “I sure as hell don’t want you to leave Moh because you think that's what I want, Jen. That was never my goal. I couldn’t do that to you guys.

“If you’re asking whether or not I’m jealous, then yeah,” Jared says, sagging back into the booth. “I wish I had that.”

“Maybe you can."

Jared laughs; the sound lacks humor. “You mean date someone else? Sorry, Jen, I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon. None of the guys I hooked up with were dating material.”

“What about a woman?”

Jared shrugs. “Not really feeling it these days.”

“It really is me and Tahmoh, huh?” Jensen asks.

Jared looks up, eyes shining despite the dim lighting. “I’m sorry—”

“Nothing to worry about,” Jensen says before Jared can finish the unnecessary apology. “I don’t really know what I was thinking, asking you all that…”

Of course, that's a lie; Jensen knows exactly what he was doing. He needed to know if Jared would want Jensen on his own, no Tahmoh in the equation. He might not have gotten a straight answer, though he saw enough in Jared’s expression to know that the idea of leaving Tahmoh out is as painful for him as it is for Jensen.

This could work out after all.

“Have you told Tahmoh that you love him?”

Jensen’s breath stops short. “I—I…” he sputters before shaking his head. “Not yet.”

“But you do, right?” When Jensen nods, Jared says, “You’re just nervous. You want to tell him and your brain is going to all kinds of crazy places.”

Crazy places, indeed, Jensen thinks.

“You’re totally buying dinner though,” Jared tells him. “You owe me for the amount of weird I just had to sit through.”

Jensen pays the check happily.

~~~~~

On Sunday, Jensen stays home and silences his phone, intending to make a sizeable dent in the amount of grading he has to finish. However, he can’t control the direction his thoughts take.

Leaving his papers and tablet in the office, Jensen wanders into the kitchen figuring he needs to eat. He texted Tahmoh from the comfort of bed earlier that morning, catching his boyfriend before he boarded the bus to the pool. Calhoun’s swimmers were doing well, Tahmoh told him, although he was eager for the Championships to be over.

Gonna spend three days in bed when I get back, Tahmoh texted.

I still have to work :-(, Jensen pointed out.

You can wake me up for sex, but that’s it. Jensen laughed until he saw Tahmoh’s next message. We’ll both need the sleep if we end up talking to Jared.

Just like that, Jensen was nervous all over again. After the steakhouse, Jensen came home feeling better about the potential for including Jared in his relationship with Tahmoh. They’d reached a good balance; when they were together, it clicked. Until someone said the wrong thing. And the wrong thing usually had something to do with Jared not being a part of the relationship and the hurt it brought.

Jensen tried not to think about what the sex could be like. Tried and failed. What little porn he had on his personal computer was lacking in threesome action. The one video he did have wasn’t much to go on: the three men were distant, uncommunicative. The sex was hot yet impersonal. Jensen anticipates that sex with both Tahmoh and Jared could fall just short of maddening—two passionate men creating a whirlwind Jensen would be happy to get swept up in.

Talk about brain-melting.

Reading Tahmoh’s text that morning and realizing that if Jared accepted, sex would go from a possibility to a reality, Jensen’s mind began to backtrack. What happened to his simple plans? Meet a nice guy, have great sex, fall in love. Jensen has all the pieces, but they're not fitting together the way he expects them to, as if the picture he's working from is wrong.

While Jensen waits for his cheddar and broccoli bowl to finish in the microwave, he wonders what his life would look like if he hadn’t agreed to the blind date months ago.

Maybe Tahmoh would’ve asked Jared out, but Jared wasn’t ready to date a guy. Unable to move forward, their friendship would have fizzled until they drifted apart completely. Jensen would have been overwhelmed by loneliness and desire for something more, and he would’ve suffered a string of bad dates. (Jensen can’t imagine anyone measuring up to Jared or Tahmoh. That’s literally a tall order) Without a serious relationship to spur Jared into confessing his feelings for Jensen, it might’ve been years before Jared took that step. If he ever did.

Even with the pain and the anxiety and the drama, Jensen doesn’t want to go back. What he has now is so much better.

The microwave dings. Jensen takes his food back to the office and tries with his free hand to clear a space on his desk. He misjudges where the corner is, knocking books and papers onto the floor. Only a speedy reflex saves his iPad from crashing down along with the rest.

Cursing, Jensen sets his bowl down before crouching to pick up the mess. He stacks the papers in a pile to be organized later and grabs one of the books. The Bone Clocks. He doesn’t recognize the cover at first. Looking at the author, he immediately knows it came from Jared, along with the other three books on the floor. He must’ve left them here sometime in the last few weeks.

Jared’s always bringing books over for Jensen to read. Hard copies, of course, because what kind of Classics teacher would Jensen be if he didn’t appreciate the feel and smell of a paperbound book? There must be close to a dozen sitting around the house—on the kitchen counter and on his nightstand.

Smiling, Jensen stands and carries the books to the built-in shelves that dominate the back wall of his office. At least a third of the contents came from Jared—books and journals and even two Calvin and Hobbes anthologies. Some have spines yet to be cracked, while others are well-loved, pages pre-tabbed with little highlighter-yellow tabs. Jensen hasn’t read half of those books, but he loves that Jared brings them over, ever hopeful.

Setting the books on a partially empty shelf, Jensen notices something else out of the ordinary: a plaque engraved with the logo of the state athletics association and Tahmoh’s name inscribed below the title of Achievement in Coaching. Next to that, a stack of lightly crumpled timesheets from the regional swim meet, the margins filled with Tahmoh’s angular handwriting.

Jensen remembers Tahmoh bringing over the plaque the week after regionals. He left it on the desk when he came in to distract Jensen from his work. The timesheets must’ve gotten mixed up with Jensen’s papers one night while they sat on the couch, ignoring their responsibilities for an hour or two in favor of making out.

Mementos from Tahmoh, books from Jared. All of it set amongst Jensen's things without a thought or care. Simple signs that carry a world of meaning. It's the same throughout the rest of his house, whether it's Tahmoh's vitamins in the kitchen or the English Majors do it with Style mug Jared left here. Tahmoh has a drawer in the bedroom; Jared's t-shirts are mixed in with Jensen's.

Jensen grasps that this is what he's supposed to have: three lives entwined, each better for the lack of separation. He needs Tahmoh and Jared in his life equally. It's no longer an option for Jensen to leave Jared adrift from a relationship he had as much hand in nurturing as Jensen and Tahmoh themselves.

Jared has always had a place with them. It's just taken this long to realize what that meant.

Jensen stands in front of the shelves until his knees begin to tremble. When he goes to take a step backwards, he's surprised how drained he feels, barely making it to his desk chair before he crumbles. His emotions are so strong, they've taken a physical toll on his body.

Tossing papers aside with no thought for the mess he's making or the cold bowl of food, Jensen digs through the clutter on his desk until his fingers find his phone. He flips to Tahmoh's name in his recent calls and dials, even though he knows Tahmoh won't pick up.

He waits through the interminable voicemail prompts, knees bouncing, and leaves a message. Jensen's voice is steady when he says the words he's been holding back for weeks.

When he hangs up, he's bursting with adrenaline and purpose. He abandons his work and grabs his car keys, making it to the garage before he remembers he’s wearing his lazy-day clothes. Not exactly the impression he wants to make. That’s easily fixed with a detour to his closet before he’s back in the garage and on his way out.

~~~~~

“Jensen?” Jared stands in the doorway waiting for Jensen to say something. “What are you doing here?” His smile drops. “Did something happen?”

Jensen doesn’t get the chance to shake his head before Jared is dragging him into the apartment, door slamming in their wake.

“Is it Tahmoh?” Jared asks. “He said he was coming home tonight—”

Jensen grabs his best friend by the shoulders. “Moh’s fine. I came over to see you.”

Jared’s mouth shuts with a click. Leading Jensen into the kitchen, he opens the fridge and offers Jensen a beer.

“I’d better not,” Jensen says. “Maybe you should hold off, too.”

Jared scowls but he steps away from the fridge empty-handed. “You’re making me nervous. Tell me what’s going on.”

In the car on the way over, Jensen spun words until he was dizzy. He thought he knew what he was going to say when he saw Jared, but his mind is blank.

“Do you need to sit down?” Jared asks. “Why don’t you—”

“I want to date you,” Jensen blurts out. Mentally kicks himself because that’s not where he intended to begin.

Jared’s expression falls into shadow as if a storm cloud passed overhead. His words are ice when he says, “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not going to break up your relationship.”

“I’m not asking you to!” Jensen insists, but that only deepens Jared’s frown. “I mean, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I just—I think being with you is a good idea. Tahmoh, too.”

“Tahmoh thinks you need to sleep with me? What the hell, Jen?” Jared spins away and slams his fist on the countertop. Jensen steps forward to grab Jared’s hand, but it’s yanked out of his grip. “If there’s something wrong between you and Tahmoh, I’m not the fix! You can’t save your relationship by cheating on him with me.”

“Fuck,” Jensen curses. He’s blowing this. After leaving Tahmoh that voicemail—pure emotional word-vomit—he knew he needed to talk to Jared one on one, desperate to find out if Jared might consider this.

Jared’s arms are crossed, his stare pining Jensen in place. Jensen takes a deep breath. He has one more chance to say this, because Jared’s patience is gone.

“Something is wrong, but it’s not what you think,” Jensen tells him. “When you pulled away from me, it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever gone through. If it wasn’t for Tahmoh, I would’ve gone crazy.”

“I came back,” Jared says, voice barely above a whisper.

“And I was so happy you did. But that wasn’t enough, was it? There was so much tension. We should have known things weren’t back to normal.”

“I’ll get there,” Jared promises.

Unable to stand the hurt on Jared’s face, Jensen lays a hand on Jared’s forearm where it’s crossed over his chest.

“I don’t want normal anymore,” Jensen confesses, “and I’m not doing it to save anything. If you say no, I’ll walk out and we’ll forget I ever came over here tonight. I’ll wait for Tahmoh to get home, and we’ll move on.”

Jared does well to keep his voice from shaking when he looks down at Jensen and asks, “Say no to what?”

“I love you, Jared.” He sees Jared’s breath hitch in his throat, but he can’t stop. “I’ve always loved you as a friend, but this is different. I love Tahmoh and I think you do, too.”

“Jen—”

“And I know for a fact that Tahmoh has strong feelings for you, but that's for him to say.”

Jared drops his chin and shakes his head, denying Jensen’s words. “It doesn’t matter. You and Tahmoh are together and I refuse to mess that up,” he hisses.

“What if you’re messing it up by not being a part of it?”

The tension snaps back into place. Jared’s gaze is so focused, Jensen feels like his skin is going to burn. It’s a solid thirty seconds of silence until Jared opens his mouth again.

“And by a part of it, you mean…”

“I want to date you, and I want to keep seeing Tahmoh, but I want him to date you, too.”

“Like three separate relationships?”

“All of us, together.” Again, Jared tries to duck his head and look away, but Jensen won’t let him. He raises his other hand and holds Jared’s chin. “We all want it, alright? It makes so much sense, Jay.”

There’s so much to read in Jared’s eyes, green and gold flashing as dozens of emotions rush through his mind. (Jensen knows the feeling.) Jensen’s patient because he needs to be—he wants to give Jared time to process. And looking at his best friend isn’t exactly a hardship. Unstyled, there’s a faint wave to Jared’s hair. It looks so soft tucked behind his ears. Unlike Jensen, he obviously shaved that day, no stubble to hide that sinful jawline. He’s wearing a pair of shorts emblazoned with their college logo, a shirt with a tagline so faded, it’s unreadable. He looks comfortable; Jensen wants to cuddle with him.

Maybe later, if all goes well.

“I thought you’d be angry,” Jared whispers.

“About what?”

“I swear to God, I was never gonna tell you.”

And Jensen understands. “You’ve thought about this, too.”

“I tried not to,” Jared says, “I felt horrible about it, but when we were all hanging out together, I couldn’t help wanting, you know? You and Moh were so happy—I imagined what it would be like to be a part of that.”

Jensen reiterates, “We want you to be. But just so we’re clear, this isn’t you and us. There would be three people in this.” It’s a fact Jensen needed to clarify for himself, too. Jared wouldn’t be joining a couple—the three of them need to approach this as equals, like it’s an entirely new relationship. Which, in a way, Jensen supposes it is.

“Are you saying I get to have this?” Jared asks, dumbfounded.

“We all do.”

“And Moh?”

Jensen grins. “Actually he’s the one who opened my eyes to the idea."

“Thank God for him.” Jared’s words come on a long exhale. Jensen silently agrees.

Jared relaxes for the first time since he opened the door, the rigidity leaving his spine. He melts against Jensen, the counter behind him taking a good deal of their weight. It’s the closest Jensen’s been to Jared since the morning they almost kissed in Jensen’s kitchen. Just as it was then, the pressure of Jared’s gaze sets a fire beneath Jensen’s skin.

“There’s no gel in your hair,” Jared says out of nowhere. He combs his fingers behind Jensen’s ear, scratching his scalp.

“I was having a lazy day,” Jensen explains, leaning into the touch. It feels unbearably good—Jensen’s been starving for Jared’s touch, so different from Tahmoh’s but no less welcome.

“I like it soft like this.”

A short laugh pushes its way out of Jensen’s throat. “I think it’s too fluffy.”

For some strange reason, that’s what causes Jared to hug him. Not a back-slapping man-hug with minimal contact, but a full embrace, bodies coming together from shoulder to knees. Arms wrapped all the way around one another as if there’s a chance one of them might slip away if the hold isn’t strong enough.

When Jared pulls back, Jensen's desire to kiss him is greater than anything he's felt in the past few years. Jared’s lips are parted and wet from running his tongue over them, a fucking invitation if he’s ever seen one. Before Jensen can close the distance, Jared steps out of his arms.

“We can’t,” he says with more conviction than Jensen would be able to muster. “Not until we’re all together.” He sighs and leans against the opposite counter. “And I need a little bit of time.”

“I get it,” Jensen says, gripping the countertop behind him so he doesn’t rush forward and take the kiss he’s been denied for so long. “Tahmoh and I already talked about it, but there's more I need to tell him.” He waits until Jared meets his gaze and adds, “Just promise you’ll be honest with what you want. This only works if you're ready to date us. If your answer’s no, that’s alright. We’ll go back to what we were before."

“You think we could?”

“I wouldn’t stop trying until we were okay with each other again,” Jensen vows. He means every single word.

“You and Tahmoh?”

Jensen thinks for a moment. Then he says, “I love him. I wouldn’t let him go anywhere if this didn’t work out.”

“You gonna see him tonight?”

Jensen nods. “He said he’d come over once he got back. It might be late, though.”

Jared shuffles his bare feet on the tile. “I know I have no right to ask this, but could you guys not...you know.”

“Have sex?” Jensen asks, surprised.

“Just until I get my head on straight about all this. I can’t stop you, but I thinking about it right now, I—”

Jensen reaches for Jared’s hand and squeezes. “You have every right to ask. If you say yes, it’s the three of us from now on. Okay?”

They both let out a breath at the same time, Jared’s smile transforming his face into the beautiful, dimpled expression he knows so well.

It feels strange to leave after that with nothing settled. Jared looks like he needs to sit down and Jensen wants to respect his request. He doesn’t let go of Jared’s hand until they’re at the front door, though, long fingers slipping out of Jensen’s grasp just before the door shuts.

Despite what he told Jared, he might need that beer when he gets home after all.

~~~~~

Jensen hears the thunk-click of his front door being locked. He listens to Tahmoh's weary footsteps trudging up the stairs, down the hallway, until he steps into Jensen's bedroom.

"Hey..." Jensen says through a yawn, setting his iPad on the nightstand.

But Tahmoh doesn't stop moving forward until he's on the bed with Jensen, strong hands pulling him into a kiss. Tahmoh always kisses Jensen when he comes over, but this is less of a greeting, more of a claim. Unforgiving pressure until Jensen's mouth yields, lips wide for their tongues to meet. Hands raking through Jensen's mussed hair, nails harsh against his scalp.

Only when Jensen's mouth has been thoroughly and deliciously ravished, does Tahmoh say, "I got your message."

Right, that. "At least you actually listened to this one."

"Well who says something like that over voicemail, huh?" Tahmoh's sleepy smile is a comforting sight. "You love me."

"Don't get weird about it," Jensen says. Tahmoh leans in to kiss the smirk off his lips. Jensen could easily lie there and kiss Tahmoh all night, listening to him whisper his own admissions of love against his cheek. He has to work in the morning, though, and he can't forget the promise he made Jared. His hands push until Tahmoh is rolling off the bed.

"How was the drive back?"

"Long but quiet. The kids slept the whole time." Tahmoh pulls shorts from one of the drawers he's claimed in Jensen's dresser. After glancing back at the bed, he grabs a fresh undershirt, too. "You didn't have to stay up," he adds, stepping into the bathroom.

Jensen waits until he comes out to say, "I don't think I could've fallen asleep." Another yawn betrays his words, but Jensen won't give in to sleep.

Once Tahmoh is lying beside him, Jensen tells him about going to Jared's apartment. "I had to do it," he says. "Once I told you how I felt, I realized I felt the same way about him, too. I had to see him, otherwise I would've gone out of my mind waiting for you to get home."

Tahmoh says, "I wish I could've been there."

"Actually I think it was better that it was just me," Jensen explains. "I'm pretty sure there's a part of Jared that's still intimidated by you."

Revisiting the scene in his mind, Jensen tells Tahmoh how he nearly fucked everything up. Tahmoh reaches for his hand, wide fingers fitting in between Jensen's. When he comes to the part about letting Jared know how he felt, Jensen says, "You need to talk to Jared, too. Those feelings are between you guys. I couldn't take that opportunity away."

Emotion must strike Tahmoh deep. He barely whispers when he thanks Jensen.

"Jared thought about this, you know." They've come to the most important part of the story. Tahmoh's eyes are shining when Jensen tells him about the guilt Jared carried thinking he was alone in his desires. "I told him we were willing to try, but he just needs a little time."

When he mentions Jared's last request, Tahmoh groans, tucking his head against Jensen's shoulder. "I hope he doesn't need too much time."

Jensen shuts his eyes, one hand stroking Tahmoh's back. They slide down until they're face to face, only a foot of space between their pillows. Jensen's fingers trace the faint dusting of freckles across Tahmoh's forehead.

"I'm glad you're here right now," Tahmoh says quietly. "You could've stayed with Jared, but I don't want to let you go yet."

"You won't have to," Jensen offers, but he understands the meaning. Everything is going to change.

"I love you, Jen."

Jensen shifts so that he's pressed against Tahmoh's chest. There's a flutter behind his ribs, a small pang that begins to throb the longer they lie there in silence. Jensen tries to ignore the feeling; he recognizes the hurt for what it is. He's been the victim of a break up many times in his life. No matter how deep his feelings ran, or how badly he'd been hurt, Jensen always felt sad when he thought of what could have been. The pain in his chest comes from mourning the loss of a relationship. After tonight, there will no longer be a them.

"Would it have worked out in the long run if it was just you and me?" Jensen isn't sure why he's speculating out loud, but he feels like he can ask Tahmoh anything.

"I'd like to think so," Tahmoh says from his ever kind heart.

Maybe the two of them would've been happy if Jared never started pulling away. If he never had feelings for Jensen beyond platonic soulmates. Now that true feelings have been exposed, Jensen could never leave Jared out in the cold. Just as he knows he wouldn't be able to survive seeing Jared and Tahmoh happy without him, and he can't imagine causing Tahmoh pain by leaving him for Jared.

There is no going back. And if what lies ahead is better than what Jensen has now, he can't wait to live it.

~~~~~

Jensen likes to claim that he's a patient man, but surviving the next few days is a test for which he isn't prepared.

Tahmoh has Monday off to recuperate from the exhausting weekend. Jensen leaves him at the house for a few extra hours of sleep before he heads back to his place. They agreed that it would be easier for Tahmoh to spend nights at home until Jared's ready for more, lest temptation get the better of them.

At Hallgrove, Jensen doesn't see Jared until they pass one another for separate lunch shifts in the atrium. Jared grins when he picks Jensen out of the crowd of students rushing towards the tables, though they don't have a chance to stop and talk. Still, the memory of Jared's smile is enough to carry Jensen through the rest of the day without panicking.

Jared shows up in Jensen’s classroom after the final bell. Unlike Jensen, it looks like he got a good night’s sleep—there’s color in his cheeks and lightness to his steps.

Jensen doesn’t know where to begin. “Do you want to hang out tonight?” he asks, figuring that the three of them should get together at some point. “Moh and I were gonna order pizza. He hasn’t had it in months and he’s a little bit cranky for cheese right now.”

Throughout Jensen’s rambling, Jared watches him with a tender expression.

“I wish I could,” Jared says. “Dylan Milner’s parents are taking me to dinner as a thank you for the recommendation I wrote to Georgetown.”

“Lucky you,” Jensen mutters. Dylan is one of Jared’s favorite students as well as the head of the Hallgrove book club that Jared moderates.

“They’re taking me to Thyme, so I’m not complaining.”

“What about tomorrow?” Jensen asks, making sure he has everything he needs in his bag to take home. “Do you have plans?”

Jared stands on the other side of the desk, the shift of his hips drawing Jensen’s gaze to the particularly tight fit of his pants today. He swallows.

“I need to hit the gym,” Jared says, “I’ve been off my routine for way too long.”

Jensen frowns.

“Hey…” Jared leans forward, palms spread wide on Jensen’s desk. “Don’t worry, okay? I actually texted Moh and asked him to go with me. He and I haven’t gotten a chance to talk yet.”

“Oh yeah, that’s—that makes a lot of sense,” Jensen says.

“What if we hung out after? Head to Jamie’s bar or something?”

For once, Jensen’s grateful he’s not the one making the plans. Jared’s mood gets brighter when Jensen agrees, and he launches into a rundown of his comparative lit class’ final presentations that has Jensen laughing in sympathy.

Neither one of them mention Jared’s decision.

It’s the same on Tuesday. He only sees Jared in passing between classes, and there’s too much going on at Hallgrove during the last two weeks of the semester for them to talk about anything else. Tahmoh texts Jensen during lunch to say that he and Jared ought to be at Jamie’s by 9:00. Last night, after eating half a roasted vegetable pizza (though he still wouldn’t touch Jensen’s classic Italian meat lover’s pizza) and rolling on the couch like a happy cat, Tahmoh told Jensen he was looking forward to hitting the gym with Jared.

“He just wants to make sure I’m as good with this as you told him I was,” Tahmoh said. “The last time he and I talked on our own, this wasn’t even a possibility.”

“Not one we said out loud,” Jensen pointed out. “We were thinking it.”

Still, Jensen’s nervous. While Tahmoh and Jared are at the gym, he takes refuge at Troubadour’s with a cup of cafe mocha and enough work to keep him occupied for the next few hours and pretends not to think about Jared and Tahmoh working up a sweat. Together. Probably with their shirts off. Fuck. He waits for a text from either one, but his phone is annoyingly silent until just after 8:30 when Jared lets him know they’re leaving the gym.

They’re already at the bar when Jensen arrives, three of Jamie’s organic pressed-fruit drinks set in front of them.

“We ordered for you,” Tahmoh says, pulling Jensen into his arms. They don’t even think—the move is natural—but they both freeze and look at Jared. Nothing to worry about there, though. Jared’s looking at them fondly, shaking his head.

“You’re such idiots,” Jared mutters and then Jensen’s hugging him, too.

With their feelings out in the open, there’s no reason for any of them to get drunk. Jensen enjoys the company, thanks Jamie when he brings them a plate of house-made bruschetta.

“Compliments of the owner,” Jamie says with a wink. Jensen would guess that Tahmoh’s old friend has an idea about what’s going on between the three of them. Even that small show of support means a lot. Jensen’s been too focused on getting the relationship to this point to worry about what other people are going to think. Seems they have one ally, at least.

Jared is relaxed, no longer frantic with that restless energy that Jensen’s seen too often since grad school. Jensen and Tahmoh are the perfect buffers; together they settle him. Jensen doesn’t think he would’ve been able to do that on his own.

“Gonna tell me what happened at the gym?” Jensen asks while they’re sipping their second round of specialty cocktails.

Jared and Tahmoh look at one another. “Jared set a new personal record for his vertical jump.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“We’re all good, Jen,” Jared says. Jensen feels his hand settle at the small of his back and he leans into it. “Moh and I talked. I still felt guilty—”

“And I told him he needed to let that go,” Tahmoh adds, reaching across the bar to nudge Jared’s hand. “You didn’t break us up, Jared. You helped get us here.”

Jensen feels the weight of Tahmoh’s words and he looks over at Jared. “Does this mean you’re in?”

Jared smiles at both of them. “I am if you are,” he says, and Jensen feels like he could light the room up with the strength of his happiness.

“I don’t know what I’m ready for,” Jared admits, turning his hand so that his fingers brush Tahmoh’s. Jensen suddenly has a hard time breathing; the sight is simple but so beautiful, and he wants to preserve it in his memory. “I still can’t believe we’re gonna do this.”

“Feels kinda surreal, doesn’t it?”

Six months ago (or a year, or ten years), if someone told Jensen that he’d be in a relationship with his best friend and an Olympian, Jensen would have laughed that person straight out of the room. Now, it may seem surreal, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

There and then, Jensen wants to take both men home with him, desperate to know how good they’ll be together. If he takes what he’s done with Tahmoh and multiplies it by Jared, he’s fairly sure the answer is too hot to calculate. Jensen would respect his decision, though, if Jared said he wasn't ready yet. He just prays they’ll be able to do something soon. Jensen hasn’t even kissed Jared yet. How wrong is that?

On Wednesday, Jared’s brother has a long layover in town, so Jared takes him out to dinner. Tahmoh ends up at Jensen’s house where they sit on the couch clicking through all the press coverage from the State Championships that Tahmoh has bookmarked on his tablet. Jensen ignores his work in favor of poking Tahmoh’s ticklish ribs every time he’s mentioned in an article.

Jared keeps them updated via a group text, even sending ridiculous selfies of him and Jeff from the obnoxiously colorful taco restaurant.

“Think he’ll tell Jeff about us?”

“He might,” Jensen says. “Jeff’s really open-minded.”

“Have you told your family?”

Jensen shakes his head. “Not because I don’t want to. I know they love Jared, and they really like you, so I’m not worried. I just want to have this to myself for a while, you know? We’ve dealt with so much already.”

Tahmoh is quiet, but he nods.

The next night, Tahmoh, Felicia, and the rest of the coaching staff are required to be at Calhoun’s Spring Athletic Banquet. Jensen promised his sister that he’d Skype with her in order to help her pick out colors and motifs for his first niece or nephew’s nursery. (He’s secretly hoping for a niece.) He doesn’t think Mack needs his opinion, it’s just a great way to catch up and share in the process. Jared’s at Troubadour’s having his own grading session fueled by caffeine, and he texts photos of other patrons—mostly college students cramming for finals—who’ve fallen asleep in their chairs.

On Friday, Felicia invites all three of them to her house for an end-of-the-season dinner party that ends up being a pizza, wings, and cheesy-bread party when the majority of her food burns in the oven. Thanks to plenty of beer and wine, no one has a bad time.

Except for Jensen who wants to cry. Looking over at Tahmoh’s firm jaw and hungry gaze, he feels the same way.

Jared is killing them. He flirts like a man on a mission: teasing hands catching Tahmoh and Jensen unawares, wicked eyes beckoning them closer, parted lips skimming over Tahmoh’s cheek when he leans in to say something. Jensen is one ‘accidental’ brush of hips away from pinning Jared to the wall in Felicia’s living room and just having him in front of dozens of people. Tahmoh’s hand on his forearm is the only restraint that stops him.

“I know,” Tahmoh whispers in his ear, “it’s killing me, too. Maybe this is payback for all the times he had to watch us.”

Jensen can’t deal with Tahmoh being so close. His body is primed and eager—he hasn’t had sex in over a week, the longest he’s gone since he and Tahmoh made their relationship official, and he misses the intimacy. The skin-on-skin and the hot, slick meeting of mouths. He misses the tastes, the sights, the fucking sounds.

Jared works his way back over towards them with a smile on his face and wastes no time grabbing them both by the hand and dragging them onto the back patio where Felicia’s girlfriend has a good size blaze going in the fire-pit. It’s a warm night, but the heat feels good on Jensen’s face; it distracts him from the inferno racing through his blood at holding Jared’s hand in front of everyone.

Then he sees why Jared is excited.

“You brought me out here for s’mores?”

“Just like grad school,” Jared says, reminding Jensen of how they’d roast marshmallows in the little fire pit dug into the community yard behind their building, folding themselves into cheap lawn chairs and building s’mores with stale graham crackers and off-brand chocolate. Still, they were delicious.

Felicia passes out sticks and marshmallows, leaving the rest of the ingredients on the patio table. Jared roasts three at a time while Jensen and Tahmoh grab crackers and chocolate.

The first one is perfectly constructed, chocolate already starting to melt when Jared hands the s’more to Tahmoh. The next one is a little scorched but Jensen takes it anyway. Jared’s is roasted all the way around, but his graham crackers start crumbling when he tries to squish all the layers together. He pouts as part of his s’more falls on the grass, and Jensen laughs. Beside him, Tahmoh is grinning at them, one arm around Jensen’s waist.

Jared’s expression ripples dangerously before he moves faster than Jensen anticipates, warm marshmallow hitting Jensen square on the mouth. Jared’s fingers wipe chocolate and sticky, warm white sugar all over Jensen’s lips to the sound of nearly everyone around them laughing, cell phone cameras clicking and flashing. Even Tahmoh betrays him, one of those robust laughs Jensen loves so much coming at his expense.

“You’re so dead,” Jensen groans as he carefully pulls pieces of graham cracker away from his face. He looks up, ready to retaliate, but Jared is fucking beaming, his eyes fixed on Jensen and Tahmoh like there’s no one else in the world that would make him happier.

And then Jared leans in to kiss the mess away, lips touching the corner of Jensen’s mouth as he gathers the sugary sweetness on his tongue, melted chocolate licked away. He can hear Felicia and the others continuing to laugh. Jensen’s mood has downshifted from amused to no-holds-barred aroused.

This could be a serious problem. Behind him, Tahmoh gasps, and Jensen freezes. If he moves, Felicia’s guests are going to get a show they didn’t sign up for.

Jared leans back and licks his lips. His eyes give him away; he knew exactly how to wind Jensen up.

“I think it’s time to go.” That’s Tahmoh’s voice cutting through the haze. They’re no longer the center of attention as people return to roasting their s’mores and enjoying themselves.

Jared tilts his head down towards Jensen. Another few inches and they’d be kissing for real, something every impulse in his body is screaming for him to do. “Yeah, we better get out of here,” he says. “Your place?”

Jensen doesn’t have it in him to do more than nod. Fortunately Tahmoh has his wits about him, pushing them through the house and out the front door.

Apparently the wait is over.

~~~~~

Jared and Jensen get to the house first. After walking them to their cars, Tahmoh stayed to say goodbye to Felicia, promising he would be right behind them. In this moment it’s only Jared facing Jensen in the front hallway, every second ticking by like it’s Jensen's heartbeat.

“I wasn’t thinking when I kissed you,” Jared says, quiet though there’s no one to overhear. “I was just so happy, and then I remembered that I could…”

Jensen reaches up, squeezes Jared’s shoulder. “You sure you’re ready?”

“If we wait any longer, I’m gonna go insane.”

Jensen smirks; he knows the feeling. They hear Tahmoh walking in through the open garage, breaths coming at a rapid pace when he finds them in the hall. His face is flushed, chest rising with heavy breaths.

“That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,” he says, curling one hand around the back of Jensen’s neck. “You’ve never done that before?” Keeping his eyes on Jared, Jensen shakes his head. Tahmoh moans. “You must be going crazy right now. Don’t let me stop you.”

Knowing Tahmoh is watching and wanting raises the temperature when Jared pushes Jensen against the wall, mouths falling together without hesitation. Jensen opens for Jared, his lips firm and needy. Jensen’s body tingles when Jared’s tongue slips alongside his. Whatever he'd imagined in the past, the reality of kissing Jared is so much more intense. Jensen takes every flick of Jared's tongue, each desperate whimper he can't hold back, and returns it all in kind. The wall is hard at his back but Jared’s chest is equally solid at his front, the weight increasing like he’s trying to get as close to Jensen as possible.

Jensen feels Tahmoh’s hand on his hip keeping them all connected. He would reach out, but Jared has him captive in the kiss, palms on either side of Jensen’s face. Eventually his lungs scream out for more air than he’s getting, forcing them apart. Jared drops his forehead against Jensen’s, panting hard. Jensen watches him lick those stupidly pretty, pink lips and craves more.

Tahmoh’s voice banks the fire. “We should move upstairs.”

“Definitely,” Jared says, voice ragged. Christ, Jensen’s mouth did that to him, and he intends on doing so much more.

Jensen’s brain disregards insignificant details like how they get upstairs. In a flash, they’re in the bedroom waiting for the next move.

“There are no rules for this,” Tahmoh says, maneuvering all three of them closer to the bed. “We’ll figure it out as we go. We just need to be honest with each other. If anything changes—”

“I can’t see that happening,” Jared says. “I swear I’ll tell you both if it does.”

They turn to Jensen and he adds his own promise. With that out of the way, Tahmoh relaxes. Jensen loves him for trying to keep a level-head, but he’s too eager to stop again.

“I used to dread going to the gym with both of you,” Tahmoh says. “Watching Jared help you through a set, touching you… I’d get so turned on, I needed to hit the showers in the middle of a workout.”

Jared huffs. “Seriously? I had to see you guys making out whenever someone stared at Tahmoh for too long.” He nudges Jensen. “You were claiming your territory. I can’t blame you.”

“You were allowed to look,” Jensen says, and Jared shudders. “What about me? Both of you trained like it was a fucking gladiator boot camp.” Jared and Tahmoh feign innocence, but Jensen’s not fooled. “You were showing off on purpose. You liked the attention.”

Jared shrugs. “You’re allowed to look, too.”

Jensen has a terrible feeling he’s just given them ammunition.

Trading a look, Jared and Tahmoh begin to strip, taunting Jensen with their gym-sculpted bodies, shirts gone to reveal each toned muscle from their shoulders to their hips. It gets worse when Tahmoh steps into Jared’s arms and drags his mouth across Jared’s cheek, sliding down to set his teeth along Jared’s jaw, eyes flicking in Jensen's direction. Now Jensen understands what Tahmoh must’ve felt seeing him kiss Jared downstairs. If this was porn, they'd make millions. When Tahmoh reaches Jared’s lips, it’s almost too hot for his brain to endure. Jensen can’t look away.

He’s controlled himself up to this point—Jensen’s only half-hard in his pants. That control shatters as soon as Jared fits his hands low on Tahmoh’s hips, that beautiful stretch of skin over muscle and bone at which Jensen has worshipped so often. He wants to wrap himself around them, get between them—anything to feel them against him at the same time.

What started as a gentle yet provocative kiss escalates until Tahmoh is biting at Jared’s lips while Jared slots their hips together, bodies grinding instinctually.

“What do you want me to do?” Jared asks when his mouth is freed.

“That’s not how this works,” Tahmoh reminds him.

“You’ve been together,” Jared says, “you know what you’re doing.”

Jensen steps behind Jared, fingers skimming across his shoulder blades. Acres of new skin to explore. He thought he knew where all of Jared's moles were, but he lightly drags his fingers around one set just to the left of Jared's spine that he's never seen. His heart cries out when he realizes that some random guy might've gotten to see them all before Jensen. Someone completely unworthy of him.

"How far have you gone with a guy?” Jensen asks with difficulty.

Jared’s shoulders tense under Jensen’s hands. On the other side of his body, Tahmoh is quiet, but his gaze is encouraging.

“Mostly blowjobs. Receiving, I mean. I don’t think I’m ready to try giving one,” Jared says. “Guys at the Hill wanted to jerk me off, too.”

Tahmoh asks the question Jensen cannot. “Have you fucked a guy?”

“Twice.”

Jensen digs his fingers into Jared’s back but he quickly retreats, stroking the red skin in apology.

“What about the other way around?” Tahmoh asks.

“Never. I’m not sure… I never wanted that. Not with those guys, anyway. Maybe with one of you.”

“Only if you want it, too,” Jensen insists. Just because he and Tahmoh are flexible doesn’t mean they expect the same of Jared. If the day comes with Jared does want it… Jensen’s knees threaten to buckle at the thought.

“Just think about tonight,” Tahmoh says. “What do you want right now?”

Jared reaches back, finds one of Jensen’s hands and guides it around to the front of his body. Fingers allowed to map the grooves between his abs, trace the rim of his navel. Heart thumping wildly, Jensen lets him press his hand over his cock, a moment he wove fantasies around when they first met.

“Been dreaming about your mouth for months.” Jared groans, flexing his hips so Jensen can palm the full shape of his cock.

“Fuck,” Tahmoh curses. “I want to see that.”

Jensen can’t even respond, he wants this so much.

Ditching their shoes, Jensen pulls off his shirt and pushes Jared down onto the bed. Tahmoh climbs on next to him, arranging Jared until he's reclining against the pillows, and helping him to work off his pants. While Tahmoh's stripping out of his own jeans, Jensen reaches for Jared’s boxers, savoring the moment, committing details to memory as Jared’s cock is revealed. A dark treasure trail cuts down below his navel, the canyon around his hips only slightly more rounded than Tahmoh’s. His cock is inspiring. Jensen knew his shape when soft through boxers and flannel pants, but he’s never seen Jared erect and pulsing like this. At first glance he’s longer than either of them, slightly curved to the left. A wide, smooth head that Tahmoh is going to love if Jared ends up fucking him. Based on Tahmoh’s long, ragged moan, he’s measuring it in his mind, too.

“You’ve been safe?” Jensen asks, crawling onto the bed.

“Every time,” Jared swears. “You know me, Jen. I was messed up, but I wasn’t stupid.”

Tahmoh leans over Jared, kissing his temple. “He wasn’t saying that. You have every right to ask us, too. We got tested together,” he explains, “but we still use condoms when we fuck.”

“I got tested a couple weeks ago,” Jared says once he calms, “and I haven’t been with anyone in over a month.”

“Good,” Jensen cuts in, “because I want to taste you.”

His lips follow along the juncture between Jared’s thigh and his groin, teasing with puffs of warm breath. Jared smells amazing beneath the hint of cologne left over from the party. Warm and rich, a complex musk that’s different from Tahmoh’s but still delicious. Jensen intends to seek it out all over his body when he has the patience.

The head of Jared’s cock sits perfectly on his tongue, girth stretching his lips comfortably. Jared’s moan comes from deep behind his ribs, but Tahmoh’s mouth is there to catch it. Jensen is tempted to watch them kiss and stroke one another, but Jared’s cock is thick with blood, desperate for Jensen’s attentions.

“He loves it,” Jensen hears Tahmoh whisper to Jared, and he’s right. With others it was routine, perfunctory and quick. He would give Tahmoh and Jared anything they asked for. Everything. And he’ll take just as much in return, riding the thrust of Jared’s hips without choking.

“It’s never felt like this,” Jared mutters, the hand that’s not touching Tahmoh falling to the back of Jensen’s neck. Jensen allows Jared to hold him down over his cock, works his tongue frantically beneath the crown until Jared’s shaking apart beneath him. His blood races when he imagines how demanding Jared could be in their bed when he's more comfortable.

Jensen swallows Jared’s come at the same time Tahmoh steals the raw cry from his lips. Tahmoh is there when Jensen rises to his knees, mouth open to share Jared’s taste between them. Even when the last trace is gone, Jensen doesn’t let Tahmoh pull away. He grabs Tahmoh by the ass, hands kneading into the thick muscle, and rocks them together until he’s burning up with the need to come.

“Holy shit,” Jared groans. “This is so fucking hot.”

Jensen rips his mouth away from Tahmoh’s to beg. “Touch me, please. Jay…”

Jared sits up, mussed hair falling over his forehead. Jensen reaches for him, relieved when Jared comes willingly. It subdues the small part of him that was still afraid Jared would reconsider after sex.

Jared slots himself against Jensen’s back in a mirror of their earlier position. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

“Do what feels good,” Tahmoh says before Jensen can tell Jared that nothing he does could ever be wrong.

Jared’s growled response races down Jensen’s spine and he feels the blunt pressure of teeth on the back of his neck. He’s discovered a weakness not even Tahmoh has learned to exploit. Thighs quivering, cock dripping where it’s still unfairly confined in his boxer-briefs, Jensen does his damnedest not to melt as Jared nips and kisses the side of his neck. When Jared’s mouth sucks sensitive skin where neck meets shoulder, Jensen's spine snaps. He arches between Jared and Tahmoh, locked in pleasure and trapped by four hands and two mouths taking advantage. Jensen hisses, beyond words as Jared’s teeth scrape the underside of his jaw.

Tahmoh is watching, mouth slack and lips swollen. His fingers circle Jensen’s nipple, each light twist sending a pulse of pure heat down to his cock. Finally Jared ends his torment, hands shoving Jensen’s underwear down far enough to grab his erection.

“Does this feel okay?” Jared asks. Jensen twists his head around, seeking Jared’s lips, biting and demanding as the rhythm of Jared’s hand on his cock gathers speed. He has no reason to be self-conscious—his grip is warm and steady, palm wide enough to satisfy. Tahmoh does them a favor when he grabs the lube, adding enough to create an ideal amount of friction. He doesn’t lend a hand to Jared though, choosing instead to rub his still-covered cock against Jensen’s thigh and tease his nipples with clever fingers.

Jensen turns from Jared’s mouth and finds Tahmoh’s waiting for him. He wants to lose sense and time. Wants to hold and be held and stay away from the world for as long as possible. Jensen used to crave sex only for the pleasure it brought; Tahmoh changed that. Jensen desires the connection above anything else, and now he has it with more than one person. He’s exactly where he wants to be—between them, no longer alone.

He gasps as Jared’s strokes become rougher. “Oh fuck, Jay. Just like that.” They’re both rutting against him. Jared’s cock surging with renewed arousal against his ass at the same time Tahmoh’s full length grinds against his leg.

It might be the press of two cocks—who knew that would turn his crank so hard?—or the dual assault of Jared’s hand and Tahmoh’s fingers, but Jensen dives blindly into his climax, coming with a tattered cry. Jared’s grip on his cock is sticky and slow, massaging him through the aftershocks while Tahmoh holds him steady.

The wet sound of tongues meeting enlightens Jensen to the fact that Tahmoh and Jared are kissing over his shoulder. He sees the effortless way their mouths come together in high definition, Jared’s teeth catching on Tahmoh’s bottom lip and tugging. With shaky fingers, Jensen pulls Tahmoh’s boxer-briefs over his blood-heavy cock, knees shifting on the bed until their underwear joins Jared’s on the floor.

“I know what you want,” Jensen says to Tahmoh, pushing him away with little finesse until he falls on his back. Tahmoh’s legs open for him, lending weight to his words.

Jared can only stare while Jensen grabs a condom and the lube and begins fingering Tahmoh, broken gasps and pleas filling the room. When Tahmoh’s begging dissolves into incoherent sounds, Jensen looks back at Jared and holds out his hand.

Jared's pupils flare, black swallowing the green of his eyes. “You want me to fuck him?”

“Trust me,” Jensen says, cupping his face, “he wants you to fuck him, too." If Jared says no, Jensen is ready and willing to keep fingering Tahmoh until he’s a sweaty mess and coming apart under his touch.

Jared shakes himself out of his stupor and nods. Tahmoh arranges himself on his hands and knees while Jensen slips the condom over Jared’s cock and lubes him up. Then he sits beside them and watches, a wave of pure lust rolling through him when Jared presses inside.

Nothing could have prepared Jensen for how beautiful they are together: Tahmoh’s big body arching back while Jared’s hand grip him mercilessly by the hips. The rhythm isn’t perfect—Jared suffers a few false starts before he finds an angle that has Tahmoh tearing the sheets—but it’s fucking gorgeous to watch, and Tahmoh is too delirious to care. Jensen imagines himself in Tahmoh’s place, bucking back to fill himself with Jared’s cock. He’d love to ride Jared, in control of the rhythm and the depth. Or the other way around, fucking Jared for the first time, drawing it out so Jared knows nothing but pleasure.

Tahmoh reaches his limit before Jared’s stamina is drained. “Jen, please…” he begs quietly, muscles lacking the strength to stroke himself off. He finds his release at Jensen’s hand, chest dropping to the bed.

Jared pulls out carefully, chest heaving. He rips off the condom, but Jensen is there before he can wrap his own hand around his cock. With Tahmoh's come staining his fingers, Jensen pulls and twists, absorbing the heat through his palm. Knowing that Jared's cock was just inside Tahmoh lends intensity to his strokes, and he doesn’t let up until Jared comes for the second time.

Once their legs are steady enough, they each take a turn in the bathroom before returning to the bed to lie in a pile of sweaty bliss. Jensen revels in the heat and the feel of so much bare skin. (Jensen is anticipating another round, and clothes would just get in the way.)

Between them, Jared sighs contentedly. “If sex is this good now…”

“Jesus, we’re all gonna die,” Jensen laughs.

“Death by too much sex,” Tahmoh adds. “Not a bad way to go.”

There’s barely enough room for all three of them on Jensen’s bed. No one offers to move. This is merely a respite; Jensen suspects they’ll barely leave the bedroom all weekend except for nourishment. Even if they don’t have sex, Jensen can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

After a few minutes of naked, indulgent cuddling, Jared says, “I didn’t think we’d get here.”

Tahmoh makes a sleepy sound of disagreement and Jensen asks, “Did you picture this happening when you set us up on that blind date?”

Beneath Jensen’s head, Jared’s laugh rolls through his chest. “Not in a million years. I just wanted you guys to be happy.”

“We were,” Tahmoh mutters, clearly the most exhausted of the three. He doesn’t even open his eyes. “But we’re happier now.”

Jared turns his face towards Jensen. “Yeah?”

Jensen kisses his chest. “Definitely.” He feels himself being pulled under, eyelids getting heavy. The three of them shift and roll until they find a comfortable arrangement of arms and legs—it might take time to figure how they best fit together. Jensen’s looking forward to it, along with discovering who they are with each other, and who they'll become. No matter how long it takes, Jensen has a feeling it’s going to be an amazing journey.

Jensen already knows two things for certain. One, he loves these two men more than he ever thought possible, and two, he definitely needs to buy a bigger bed.


EPILOGUE.