It was a fine balance fucking Benny and keeping the vibes platonic immediately after, during, in between rounds. After taking him from behind, Micah's pace and desire grew feral under Benny's almost pornographic, "More, more—Don't stop, don't stop—" so he was ashamed to admit he went two rounds after that. Reverse cowgirl with a bit of tasteful and gentle choking (Micah couldn't resist) followed by Micah keeping him seated, grinding slow and steady to work Benny back up again as he asked, "Are you done yet? Or do I need to give one last demonstration."

    Benny and James responded in kind—Benny, exhaustion in his smile but eagerness in his voice and James, voice cracking, "One more, please."

    Micah took pity on Benny and ended with missionary, Benny cushioned by pillows, hands above his head as he sobbed through a dry orgasm, legs clinging to Micah's waist. It was one thing to witness Benny in genuine despair, but this was overwhelmingly precious. Of the tears Micah believed Benny was allowed to shed, these were the best.

    And all the while, Micah coaxed him on by saying, "You're doing so good for me," and, "Tell James how you feel. Tell him how good this feels."

    When Benny would crush Micah's fingers between his own, Micah would instead pull his hand away just to douse it with fresh lube. And then, he'd maneuver Benny's fingers past his bobbing cock, ghost them past his taint, and hook Benny's trembling fingers around where Micah disappeared inside his puffy hole. And then he'd say, "Do you feel how easily you can take me? I bet you could take both of us. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

    Micah didn't know where the dirty talk came from. He was a man possessed, enamored by his best friend's glistening eyes, James' precious attention warming them. It all felt a bit dreamy, sparkly, like the highlights in Benny's tears were glitter on the lens of an old-fashioned film where they were all supposed to have transatlantic accents and say things like, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

    When they were both spent, it was past midnight and Benny's ass was in no position to be crossing Manhattan. But given the purpose of the evening, Benny stood from the bed regardless of whatever soreness he may have felt. James was there to hold his arm, looking positively blindsided.

    "Are you sure you can stand on your own?" James said.

    "If I say no, does that mean you'll shower with me?" Benny said, giggling in the dazed manner of someone who'd just had their brains fucked out of them.

    Micah stripped the bed as James retained some form of dignity, saying, "It's Micah's shower, we can't share it—!"

    "I don't give a fuck," Micah said. "You guys should stay the night. I'll take the couch and you two can have the bed."

    "We couldn't!" they said, instantly.

    "You will," Micah argued, bundling up the blankets and raising his eyebrows at them. James flushed, and Benny got that look in his eye that said he was plotting something devious. Micah glared at him. "Don't fucking start with me."

    "We'll talk about this after I get cleaned up," Benny said, and punctuated it by jabbing a finger in Micah's direction. With that, he took one step, and then another, and walked as naturally as he could out of the room with James on his heels.

    After taking the longest shower imaginable, Benny found Micah in the loft's den just above the living room. The second Micah saw him in nothing but a towel, he cursed. "Sorry, I have spare robes you two could use—"

    "Oh! Sure, I mean—" Benny cleared his throat. Micah's eyes settled on the red mark he'd left behind just above Benny's adam's apple. At the base of his throat. All over his collarbone.

    And then Benny swallowed again.

    Distracting, Micah thought.

    Benny's brow was pinched. He gestured between them, taking half a step back. "Are we? Are we good?"

    Micah blinked. He straightened from where he'd been stuffing a pillow into a fresh pillowcase. "Are we?"

    "That's what I'm asking you."

    This time, Micah swallowed. "I don't know how to answer that." It was the worst thing he could have said, and he knew it, too, because Bad Tears were now shining in Benny's eyes.

    "I ruined it," he said. His throat was working, muscles taunt. "I did something wrong, didn't I? I-I thought—"

    "Dude, no. Why the fuck are you crying?" He abandoned the pillow to approach Benny. Physical contact was Benny's safe space, and so that was what Micah would give him: a hug.

    Benny clung to him twice as hard, nearly as hard as he had when Micah fucked him in missionary. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. I meant it in a 'if I respond too well to us fucking, would you think I was into you' kind of way."

    "O-Oh," Benny laughed.

    "Honestly, it was better than our first time," Micah admitted.

    "R-Really?" He sniffed. "I guess that makes sense. You have a lot more experience now."

    A laugh shook free from Micah's tightened chest. He ruffled Benny's hair and said, "Asshole. I forgot you're an aftercare fiend. I guess that's more James' wheelhouse."

    "Yeah, he was being all soft and gooey in the shower earlier. It was nice," Benny admitted, trying not to smile as he scuffed his feet on the wood floor. He gestured back toward the bedroom. "You sure you don't mind us stealing your bed?"

    "Not at all."

    Benny scuffed his feet around some more, wasting time. Buying time.

    Micah sighed. "I'm not joining you two."

    Benny threw his head back and groaned. His eyes were still pink from nearly crying, but the tears were gone. "Why not? It'll be like a slumber party."

    "I'm—! Not slumber-partying it up with you two."

    "Micah—!"

    "No."

    Benny pouted at him, scowled a little, and then stuck his tongue out before stomping back. Micah flipped him off until Benny glared back at him, at which point Micah hid his middle finger behind his back and feigned innocence.

    Micah made certain to wake up first that morning. It was the weekend, which meant Benny would be sleeping in and according to theories proposed by Kennedy and Micah, James would also be sleeping in to monopolize cuddling time. Micah took this opportunity to make breakfast.

    Eggs are easy for crowds, right? Micah thought, studying the contents of his fridge. He scratched at his bedhead. He'd never been the host of a threesome before... Pancakes felt too time intensive, but he supposed he had time.

    After a first batch of pancakes were stacked, Micah turned to fetch a plate and nearly dropped all three pancakes when he found James sitting at his island counter.

    "Jesus," Micah said, out of breath. His chest felt like someone had just stomped on it.

    "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," James said, quiet.

    "Is Benny up?"

    James shook his head.

    Micah resumed flopping the pancakes onto the island counter plate. "How are you feeling?"

    "In general or...?"

    "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Micah said. He shrugged. "You can call me a week from now, a month. Take it to therapy or something I don't know."

    James smiled a little, studying the counter. "I don't feel... bad about it. Honestly, I probably enjoyed myself a little too much for someone who always believed they were..."

    Micah stretched for the word, but James didn't offer it. "Vanilla?"

    James shrugged.

    "Yeah, well, I never thought I was vanilla until I met Alistair," Micah confessed. James met his eyes then, a little struck. "Trust me. Came as a surprise to me, too."

    "But you're so..."

    As Micah and Kennedy had plenty of theories, the previous night had confirmed for him that James didn't have much experience. Micah suspected it'd been hard for James to attach to other people when he'd been so hopelessly in love with Benny all those years, which meant that whatever experience James did have was either superficial, or from high school.

    "Yeah. I don't know." He worried his lip between his teeth as he focused on pouring batter onto the pan. It sizzled on impact. "I don't mean to pry, but is Benny gentle with you when he tops?"

    "No," James said, abruptly, almost laughing. "No, not really. I mean, sometimes. And then other times he's kind of... like you."

    It was immediately the sort of confession Micah regretted knowing. He didn't need to be reminded that Benny had slept with all of three guys: himself, the ex they all hated, and James. And it wasn't much of a stretch to assume Benny tried to emulate, or had picked up on, Micah's techniques.

    "I see," Micah said.

    "I, um, took some videos last night." The topic switch left Micah disoriented, glancing over his shoulder to where James was fidgeting with his phone. "Would you—Would you want me to send them to you?"

    Micah blinked. There were several ways this conversation could go, and he opted for the safe option. "That's probably not a good idea. I'm fine with you two just hanging onto them."

    "Oh. Okay."

    The floor overhead creaked. As Micah listened for Benny's footsteps approaching the stairs, he searched through his phone for a playlist to put on the speakers. When Benny came into view, he was positively radiant with a full-fledged smile in nothing but his boxers and one of Micah's robes.

    "Morning!" he cheered, like it was any other morning when they were roommates. Only now, he greeted James with a kiss and attempted to do the same with Micah.

    Micah fended him off with the spatula, leaning far away from Benny's puckered lips.

    "Aw, come on—! You just stuck your dick in me, I deserve a little kiss!" Benny cried, reaching for Micah's head with both his hands.

    Micah put his foot to Benny's gut and said, "Back! Back, demon! I'm busy making pancakes."

    Benny relented, only to settle his chin on Micah's shoulder and study the pancake making. The undersides were burnt now when Micah flipped them.

    "Goddammit," he groaned.

    "Oof," Benny agreed.

    "How do you feel?" James asked, drawing Benny's attention away.

    "Good!" He leant a hand onto the island counter and, with the other, massaged his inner thigh. "Sore. Definitely sore right here. It's so specific, too! It's like that time we found Kennedy's calisthenics tape from the 80s."

    "I think you mean, 'callanetics'," Micah said.

    Benny put his leg down. "There's a difference?"

    Micah slapped the pancakes onto the plate and said, "I'm not making anymore, but there's gonna be eggs in a bit. Sunny-side?"

    "Oh, yes please!" Benny said as James grabbed a burnt pancake for himself to nibble on.

    The morning felt relatively normal, considering the events from the previous night. The switch that had turned on in Micah's brain, however, was struggling to stay off with the way Benny flaunted about his kitchen. Namely, the way Benny sat with his legs splayed like a Major League Dumbass taking up three seats on the subway.

    His thighs were begging for Micah to be between them again. If this were any other one night stand, he wouldn't have hesitated to ask.

    I'm supposed to be calming down, not amping up, Micah told himself, stabbing his pancakes a few times to get the anger out. There was a time and a place to want to fuck someone, and that time had passed and Micah found—no longer for the first time—that he was having a time compartmentalizing that.

    And of all people to struggle not being horny for. His best friend. Benny—engaged Benny—should be the last person on Micah's radar after that night.

    Benny had an awful habit of chewing with his mouthful at home, and he did that in Micah's kitchen, too. One foot propped on one of the rungs of James' stool. The way he stuffed his mouth, immediately saw Micah watching him, and smiled.

    Micah cleared his throat and resumed eating. The feeling would go away. It always did.

    James and Benny left after breakfast so Micah could spend the remainder of the morning cleaning. It was an act he did not only out of obligation, but out of desperation to think about anything other than Benny's voice in his ear begging to come. Cleaning was, after all, a surefire way to think of nothing but Alistair.

    It'd only been a month since Benny and James' engagement party, a month since they'd "made it official", and Alistair was recovering. He didn't expect to have Alistair over in a significant capacity anytime soon, but he imagined the thought of screwing Benny in his bed would put Alistair off the idea of screwing at Micah's place in the near future.

    Still, that didn't stop Micah from cleaning like a madman and doing two loads of laundry for the bedding they'd used the previous night.

    His phone rang once shortly after James and Benny left, but he'd ignored it. Now, as the time crept closer to noon, he checked the notification. There was a single text from Kennedy ("Congrats on the ass, dude") and two from Alistair. A call from Alistair.

    Desperate much? Micah thought, knowing he was only prying for information. The texts were confirmation of what Micah had cut him off from saying. To call after the deed was done.

    And to have fun.

    Micah's battery was dying, so he left it to its grave on his nightstand while he tied his shoes for a trip to the grocery store. His thoughts would be in better order after a walk.

    After the walk, he figured his thoughts would be in order after meal prepping.

    And after that, his thoughts would definitely be ready before bed.

    Lying in bed, Micah succumbed to the sensation of hopelessness. Thinking about the previous night was just making him hard, and he couldn't stand to tell Alistair about the night without some level of distance preventing that from happening. Even if it was just a call, audio and nothing else, Micah's dick would still be erect and at attention.

    He covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Fuck my life..." he moaned, and turned over to count sheep instead.