TW: None :)

Title: ~False~

Smith straightens up, gripping the edge of the sink in front of him and examining his face in the mirror. Hair still expertly tousled; deep green tie still straight and tidy around his neck; blazer jacket still spotless; perfect.

Himself and Trott had tagged along with Ross to his secondary school reunion where they had been promised free open bar and relatively good food. Smith had to admit, it was worth having to hire out matching suits and actually be clean shaven for once. Combing his fingers through his fringe, giving his teeth a once over, Smith rolls his head back on his shoulders and catches sight of the person just entering the bathroom behind him.

“You seen Ross anywhere?” Smith addresses Trott as he comes up to the sink beside of him and leans his back against it. The deep red tie around the collar of Trott’s white shirt makes him look as though he could be attempting to cosplay Ross’ minecraft avatar, and as Smith glances over his friend he admits to himself that the colour definitely suits him.

“Yeah, I left him with Ashman. Thank God he seemed to accept the fucking ridiculous story I made up about being married to Ross.” Trott sweeps a hand over his face, and Smith chuckles pleasantly in response before Trott’s words properly register and turn Smith’s smile into a frown of confusion.

“Wait, say that again.” Smith prompts Trott, who looks at him over his hand and raises an eyebrow at Smith’s sudden serious expression.

“Ashman. Didn’t make a fuss when I said about being married to Ross?” Trott narrows his eyes suspiciously when Smith groans and swears under his breath; eyebrows knitted in a sudden expression of panic as he turns and leans back against the sink counters. “Smith, are you alright?”

“You sure it was meant to be you married to Ross?” Smith looks at Trott, and Trott stares back at him for a few moments - mouth opening and closing in pure disbelief.

“Alex Smith. Please tell me we haven’t both been telling people we’re married to Ross.” Trott says slowly, and doesn’t need a verbal response; Smith’s face says it all. Trott opens his mouth to say something further - no doubt a string of half-hearted insults regarding Smith’s stupidity - only to be interrupted by the bathroom door bursting open.

Ross looks briefly around the room before focusing in on his two idiot friends leaning against the sinks. Smith seems to shrink visibly in place, an egregiously apologetic look on his face, whilst Trott stays his ground and looks a little paler around the face.

“Why the hell has Ashman just told me that you’ve both been saying I’m married to you?” Ross hisses through his teeth, striding up to stand right in front of Smith and Trott and looking angrily between them. Smith buries his eyes in his hand, curled in on himself. Trott avoids Ross glare and clears his throat, bringing his hand up to pull his tie out of his blazer jacket so that he can play with it instead of looking at Ross’ face.

“There ah- might’ve been a bit of a mix up…” Trott explains, tugging gently at his tie and biting his lip.

“Yeah?” Ross asks, voice high with stress as he continuously looks between the two of them. Neither Smith nor Trott speak again, causing Ross to throw his hands in the air and run them vigorously through his hair.

“We- we could be one of those, whatsit-” Smith trails off, looking at the floor as he plucks the word from the back of his mind, “polyamorous relationships?” Glancing up at Ross and Trott’s faces is a bad idea, and Smith blushes with a furtive lick of his lips as he stumbles over words and attempts to cover himself.

“I mean- Not that I’ve thought about it, or anything.” Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets and grinning nervously around at his friends, Smith inwardly curses himself and tries not to think about how hard his heart is beating in his chest.

“Pretty sure that’s illegal Smith. I mean, the marriage-to-more-than-one-person part. Not- Not the three-way-relationship part.” Trott interrupts Smith’s inner turmoil, and awkward silence falls on the trio as all three men come to terms with the fact that a three-way relationship between them is an attractive possibility.

“How- How does it work?” Ross mutters, surprising Trott and Smith after a few long seconds of silence. He looks at Smith first, seeing as it had been him that brought up the idea to begin with, and hope flickers in his chest when Smith opens his mouth to speak. The spark is diminished, however, when Smith shrugs and stares at his shoes.

“Dunno much about it beyond know that it exists, y’know?” Smith clears his throat, frowning in mild confusion as his gaze darts between Trott and Ross filled with curiosity. “Would- would you two want to do that? Like, in real life.”

Ross shuffles his feet on the linoleum bathroom floor. Wishing he could pull his sleeves down over his hands he settles on playing with his cufflinks and clears his throat nervously. Smith continuously looks between him and Trott; his eyes wide in a way that Ross would call innocent if they didn’t belong to Smith.

“You mean date both of you at the same time?” Trott finally speaks, and tilts his head in consideration. A small hum comes from behind his lips as he runs his tongue over his teeth and eyes Smith suspiciously. Eventually he shrugs and gives Ross a small smile. “Yeah, okay. Ross?”

All eyes are suddenly on Ross and he can’t help but fidget under the scrutiny. This is definitely not what he expected to happen when he had stormed into the bathroom to tell his friends off for both pretending to be married to him. Still, his mind flickers back to the insurmountable amount of times that he has wanted to kiss or more with his friends and his heart skips in his chest at the idea of those thoughts becoming reality.

“Wait, seriously? You mean dating as in kissing and- and…” Ross can’t bring himself to say it, and is well aware of how much he is blushing at that moment. Instead he bites on his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. Trott and Smith exchange nervous glances, and it’s Smith who steps forward and briefly touches Ross’ arm.

“Look if you don’t want to we can leave this room and act like nothing happened and-”

“No!” Ross interrupts, catching sight of Trott’s half-smirk on his other side and the way that Smith’s eyebrows fly towards his hairline. “No, I- I really want that…” His eyes look up into Smith’s and the contact burns; Ross’ heart rate racing as he licks at his lips and can’t even try to deny the obvious sense of something between them.

“Right.” Trott’ decisive tone makes Ross jump away from Smith, but Trott doesn’t notice - too busy staring at his hands steepled in front of him. “First things first, we need to get the fuck out of this bathroom and sort this mess that me and Smith have caused.” His words bring Ross and Smith back to the reality of the ‘pretend marriage’ debacle, and an atmosphere of seriousness falls over the group.

“Second,” Trott continues, his face softening as he looks at his two best friends in a relatively new light and smiles, “we go home and look up how we go about this whole polyamorous thing. Okay?”

Ross looks at Smith, and Smith looks back at him. The two share a shy smile and turn to Trott who is watching them both with a mixture of fondness and expectancy.

“Sounds good to me,” Ross says quietly, come over all shy, and Smith grins brightly at his two friends as though this is the very best thing that has ever happened to him.

“Fuck yes!” He exclaims, beaming and throwing an arm around both Trott and Ross’ shoulders to pull them into an impromptu hug.

~~

TW: I have NSFW Troffy and Tross... so why not bonus NSFW Smornby? More in the future!

Title: ~Bathroom~

The cubicle door slams against the wall as it is forced open by two bodies tumbling through it. The bar is empty aside from a few locals and the group of friends that the two are with; no-one there to disturb them.

The dark haired one, Ross, groans throatily as the other man, Alex, sucks a constellation of bruises into his neck and rubs fervently at the front of Ross’ jeans. Bringing his hand up to tangle his fingers in the back of Alex’s ridiculous auburn waves, Ross pulls Alex away from his neck and looks hungrily between Alex’s arousal-dark eyes and the scarlet smudge of his lips.

“On your knees,” Ross growls, sending a shiver down Alex’s spine that he meets with a grin. Doing as he is told, Alex feels himself melting under the heat of Ross’ gaze.

“Yes, Sir,” Alex murmurs, kneeling before Ross on the filthy toilet floor and running his fingers over the bulging denim between Ross’ legs. His other hand easily undoing Ross’ fly, Alex relishes the moan that rumbles in Ross’ throat as he leans forward and kisses at the line of Ross’ hips.

Alex’s hair falls between Ross’ fingers as he threads a hand into it; a satisfied moan tumbling over his lips as Alex eagerly tugs at Ross’ jeans and boxer shorts. Bunching the material at Ross’ thighs, Alex looks up through his eyelashes and curls his fingers around the fantastic heat of Ross’ cock. Skin shifts wonderfully as he strokes Ross, squeezing gently and flicking his wrist as his fingers slip over the head to coax rough moans out of Ross’ mouth.

Ross’ hand tenses pointedly in Alex’s hair, his eyes staring down into Alex’s as Alex understands the hint and shuffles his position. His lips spread prettily as he takes Ross into his mouth and slowly works his way down Ross’ cock until his senses are filled with the scent of his skin and the taste of precome on his tongue.

“Oh God, that’s it,” Ross moans, head rolling back a little against the plastic cubicle wall and making it creak with the shift in weight. Other hand reaching up to grasp over the top of the cubicle, not caring as it digs into his fingers when Alex’s mouth is creating waves of dense pleasure that fill Ross’ stomach and thighs, Ross arches his back towards Alex’s bobbing head.

Alex steadies himself with one hand on Ross’ hip, his thumb pressing lightly into the line of his pelvis and rubbing careful circles in time with each duck of his head. Tongue flexing on the underside of Ross’ cock, throat constricting around the head each time he takes him deep, Alex carefully watches Ross’ movements above him. Ross isn’t far off now; his stomach muscles tensing and his hips jolting against Alex’s palm as he increases pace and wills Ross to climax.

“Oh- fuck, Smith,” Ross throws his head back as his back arches again, fingers tight in Alex’s hair and on the cubicle wall as orgasm shoots through him like an aftershock and makes his knees buckle beneath him. Come spills over Alex’s tongue, and he swallows easily as he pulls off of Ross and sits back on his heels - wiping at his smirking lips with the back of his hand instead of opting to use the toilet tissue just behind him on the wall.

Pulling his jeans and boxers back over himself, not bothering to do up his fly, Ross slips down the cubicle and flops onto the floor in a sitting position. Grinning at Alex, drinking in his flushed features and the bulge in the front of his jeans, Ross reaches out a hand. Alex leans onto all fours, scooting over between Ross’ legs to kiss him on the mouth as Ross’ hand skims across his shoulder to caress the back of his neck.

“Good- good boy,” Ross murmurs against Alex’s lips, and snorts when Alex gently knocks his forehead against Ross’ temple.

“Oi. We talked about that.” Alex reprimands, though grins anyway when Ross looks at him with a smirk.

“Sorry. Thanks, Smith. I’ll give you your reward when we get home.” Ross mutters slyly, tapping Alex’s neck to get him to lean back so he can stand. Alex pulls himself to his feet, fidgeting at the thought of having to be patient, but excited enough by the prospect of his reward that he knows not to push his luck.

“Didn’t pull your hair too hard?” Ross asks as they leave the bathroom, and Alex shakes his head.

“Nah, you know I like it rough.” Alex winks, overtaking Ross on their way back to the table and winking over his shoulder at him.