art by ilaria84
“So do I get to see you in your little blue blazer again?” Jaimie said, mouthing at Dean’s ear. They were in the bedroom of his apartment.
“Call it little blue blazer again and the answer is definitely no—” Dean huffed, then felt her grin against his ear. “Never mind. Absolutely not. No little blue suit, no little blue anything. No dates either. Nothing.”
Jaimie took his earlobe gently between her teeth and bit it, then licked it.
Dean closed his eyes. “Damn, you don’t play fair.”
“I like your little blue blazer.” She scraped a fingernail over the stubble at his jawline.
“You like it so much, go buy yourself one,” Dean murmured, tilting his head and leaning closer.
“It has to be your little blue blazer. I like how it looks on you, how it hangs over your cute little ass.” Jaimie pulled away, considering, and evaded Dean’s hand as he reached out for her. “Yeah, and with your little blue tie to match. Just like when we were on our date that I didn’t know was a date the other night.”
“Remind me not to feed you Italian next time—makes you too feisty. And that was no date. Will you get over here?”
Jaimie sank against him. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize.”
Dean blinked. “Realize what?” He ran a hand up her neck, threaded fingers in her hair.
“That it was a date.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s like I’m talking, Jaimes, but you’re hearing something completely different, you know that?”
“So stop talking already and show me what you got,” Jaimie murmured against his cheek. Her hand was at his belt, working it free.
He snorted into the curve of her neck and shoulder. “You sound like you’re still undercover. I’m not your mark, baby.”
“No? What are you?” She shoved her hands in under his shirt and touched his warm skin at the waist, ran her fingers over his stomach, then unbuttoned and unzipped him. She caught his cock up in her hand, already warm and hard.
“I’m your ... ahhh, uh ... ”
She pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, the bedclothes rustling. “You’re my date, silly.”
“Now you’re really pushing it,” Dean breathed.
Jaimie raised a brow, then made as if to get off him.
Dean grabbed her hand, stopped her. He laughed, his breath in his throat. “Okay, I give up. Anything you want.”
Jaimie smiled and nodded. “Much better.”
Dean put his arms around her, pulled her down against his chest, and sighed against the side of her face. “You’re right, this is much better.” One of his hands wrapped around the curve of her ass, the other around the small of her back. He arched up a little, kissed her slowly.
The doorbell rang.
Jaimie pulled back first. “Expecting someone?”
“No. Uh-uh.” Dean shook his head. “Nobody’s at that door. They’ll go away.” He reached for her again.
The doorbell rang again, then again. The door rattled in its frame as someone pounded on it. Jaimie rolled off Dean and frowned, staring up at the ceiling. Dean swore and stuffed his throbbing cock back inside his pants, jumped out of the bed and strode to the door.
He swung it open. “What what what?” He held onto the doorknob, ready to shut it again almost before he’d opened it.
Ty stood there. Or more accurately, sagged against the wall to the side of the door. Dean looked more closely. “Ty. What’s up, you okay?”
“No,” Ty said miserably, walking in as Dean made way for him.
“Thought you said he was okay,” Jaimie said from the bedroom door.
“Jaimie,” Ty said, opening his arms. He headed straight for her, wrapping his arms around her and leaning heavily into her.
Jaimie threw her arms around him, more to keep herself from being bowled backward than anything. “Hey, hey.” She looked at Dean over Ty’s shoulder.
Dean shrugged. His hair stuck up off his head in spikes from rolling around on the bed. “I thought he was.”
“I thought I was, too. I really thought I was, but then, you know, I went home. I couldn’t stop thinking about Melissa and that dude, that big—she works with him, did you know? He’s all, you know, suit and tie, big square head, like what, like he’s Clark Kent without the glasses—”
“Then he’d be Superman. Only black,” Dean said. Jaimie gave him a warning look.
“It’s okay, baby,” Jaimie said soothingly to Ty. Dean shot her an incredulous look. Jaimie winked at him over Ty’s shoulder. “How much have you had to drink?” she said to Ty. Her hand rubbed comfortingly over his side.
“Ow. Not enough.” Ty winced, shifting so that her hand fell from him.
“What?” Jaimie pulled the edge of Ty’s shirt up, exposing his toned abs. A bandage covered the skin above his hipbone. “A tattoo? You got drunk and got another tattoo?”
“There’s got to be a twelve step for that,” Dean said. They both looked at him. “What, he’s got enough already.”
“No no no, can’t have too many.” Ty leaned over to inspect the bandage, bumping his head against Jaimie’s. “Ow.”
“You said that already,” Jaimie said dryly, rubbing her forehead.
“It’s a snake tattoo. Like the snake that took Mel away from me,” Ty said, low and sad.
Dean scratched his head. “So you got a tattoo of your wife’s new boyfriend?”
Ty looked up fast, his mouth going softer, hurt, while his eyes got hard. “You think you’re funny? Thanks, Dean. Man, I’m out of here.”
“No, c’mon, I’m sorry, you know me better than that. Really.” Dean sighed, gestured at Jaimie and then himself. “It’s just—”
Ty looked at Jaimie, then back at Dean. “What’s up with you guys?” His face cleared. “Oh, man. I am a genius. Sorry, man.”
Dean moved, grabbing Ty by the arm and pulling him away from Jaimie. “It’s good. It’s fine. You need me—” he looked at Jaimie, added, “—us, anytime, you know we’re here for you.” He clapped Ty on the back.
Jaimie gave him a look, informing him that she knew exactly what Dean was doing, leading Ty away from her airspace. She followed in their steps. Dean threw her an exasperated look over his shoulder.
Ty looked down at his feet. “I got the tat to remind me—to warn me of what marriage is like in case I ever get the idea to try it again.”
“Come on. You don’t mean that.” Jaimie touched his arm from behind.
“You’re right. I don’t.” Ty looked rueful. “It’s just … sometimes it’s easier to get pissed off, I guess. Snake’s cool, though, don’t you think?” His face fell. “Just came at the price of my marriage.”
Jaimie glanced at Dean. “Ty … ” she said helplessly, then reached for him. His shoulders were broad and muscled beneath her fingers.
Ty sighed and settled against her. His eyes found Dean’s. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
Dean patted Ty’s back. Ty let go of Jaimie, turned and grabbed Dean. He pulled Dean close, hugging him instead.
Dean looked at Jaimie, his eyes huge. Jaimie laughed, then tried to cover it with a hand to her mouth, clearing her throat. She walked around to where she could see Ty’s face. He looked at her, the corner of his mouth pulled up, questioning.
It hit Jaimie then. She smirked. Con man, she mouthed at him.
The corner of his mouth pulled up a little more. He blinked, acceding.
“Hey, Jaimie and I were just heading for bed.” Dean sounded too hearty and a little uncomfortable.
Ty smiled up at him. His lashes shadowed his eyes, thick and dark. He was so built that he seemed larger than he was, but actually he was a little shorter than Dean.
“Wait, Dean. Ty’s been drinking. I don’t think he should be driving.” Jaimie moved to the side, putting a hand slowly, deliberately on Dean’s arm, then the other on Ty’s.
“Probably shouldn’t drive,” Ty agreed, looking down at Jaimie’s hand, then Dean’s face. He watched Dean steadily. “But it’s whatever you think, man. I can go.”
Dean’s eyes widened. He licked his lips nervously, not saying anything. Ty’s eyes followed the movement.
Dean glanced at Jaimie, who tilted her head inquisitively, waiting, clearly conveying that the ball was in his court. The clock on the wall ticked. Dean held her eyes with his own, then shrugged suddenly.
Ty grinned at him. Dean’s body relaxed, loosened. He smiled back, slow and easy, then moved closer to Ty, pulled up the bottom of his shirt as Jaimie had done. “Let me see.” His voice was low, a little roughened.
Ty closed his eyes briefly. He put his hand over Dean’s. “Yeah, you can see it. Just gotta be careful, it’s a little sore.”
Dean put his hand on Ty’s stomach, tracing over the big muscles there. “Fuck, I’m gonna get a complex,” he muttered. His fingers caught at the edge of the bandage, then ripped it off suddenly.
“Shit,” Ty hissed, and Dean sank to his knees, staring at the snake curling over Ty’s abdomen, the tail circling in under the hipbone. Dean’s mouth hovered over the tat, his breath fanning hot over the sensitive skin.
He looked up at Ty. “Can I?”
Ty inhaled sharply. He stared down at Dean’s upturned face, the wide, full mouth so close to his skin. “What?” he whispered. “Touch, lick?”
“Whatever I want.”
“Yeah. Anything,” Ty said, surprising himself.
Dean’s mouth quirked. He leaned close, touched the tip of his tongue to the tat. His breath burned against Ty’s reddened skin, the heat stinging, sinking in and spreading. Ty’s cock stiffened and filled. Dean saw it swelling against his jeans and put a hand over it, fingers curling around the shaft as best he could through the cloth. Ty drew in a deep breath and put a hand to Dean’s shoulder to brace himself as Dean rubbed slowly up and down.
“Jesus,” Ty muttered. He pushed Dean’s hand away, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Dean looked up at him, face flushed. He yanked Ty’s pants and boxers down over his thighs, then grabbed his cock, wrapping his lips around the head.
“Oh my God.” Ty’s body curled forward as he clutched at Dean’s shoulder. “You—man, I never would have guessed that you—”
“Shut up,” Dean muttered around Ty’s dick.
Jaimie laughed. Dean rolled his eyes to look up at her. Ty sighed, giving Jaimie an irritated look.
“I can’t help that he sounded funny,” Jaimie protested. She studied them. “Looks hot, though. My God, both of you.”
Dean pulled off completely and sat back on his haunches. Ty’s dick thwacked against his stomach, shining with Dean’s spit. Ty looked down at himself and groaned plaintively, his fingers tightening over Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s eyes looked almost black, pupils enlarged.
“You like being manhandled?” Ty asked softly, squeezing harder. Dean leaned into him as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Let’s take it to the bedroom, guys.” Jaimie took off her shoes and stepped out of her pants, kicking them to the side. She wore plain white briefs, cut high up over her ass. Ty and Dean watched, mouths open, as she walked to the bedroom.
“Damn.” Ty whistled.
Dean threw him a look and hurried through the bedroom door. Jaimie was already sitting on the side of the bed, her shirt halfway unbuttoned.
“Let me help with that,” Dean murmured, bending over her. His hands looked brown against her skin, searching out the buttons that still needed undoing lower down. He finished and slid a hand slow and easy down the curve of one breast. She wore a lacy scrap of a bra, and his hand was rough against it, catching the material. He leaned in and kissed her, tracing her lips with his tongue, parting them, and she opened her mouth for him, kissing him back. His hand trailed from her stomach around to her back, unfastening her bra.
Her breasts were pale, nipples small and tight, surprisingly dark. A freckle sat just outside the edge of one, and beneath it a blue vein fanned delicately up beneath her skin. Dean ran his tongue along the vein, following it to the freckle. He kissed it and looked up at her face. His hair was mussed and his eyes shone. Jaimie smiled at him and ran her fingers through the short hair. She pulled her own hair out of its ponytail and shook it free.
“Lie down.” Dean put a hand to the side of her neck and one on her chest. “We’re gonna make you feel so good, Jaimes.” He had her lay so that her knees crooked over the end of the bed, her feet hanging over the footboard. It cut into the back of her knees a little, but she ignored it.
Dean kissed her again, thrusting his tongue against hers. She pushed up into his touch and slipped her tongue around his, tasting him. He cupped a breast in his hand, rubbing a thumb over the nipple. She arched into his touch and looked into his eyes.
He looked a little … sad, maybe, or lost. Regretful. Definitely not like a guy having a good time with people he trusted. People who cared about him.
“Baby, I don’t have to fuck him,” she murmured in his ear.
Dean dropped his head, kissed her just behind her ear and breathed, “Yeah, well. That’s probably not fair of me to ask. Not now.”
“It’s okay. What I really want is to watch you and Ty.”
Dean’s eyes closed. His hand slid over her waist, then traced the jut of her hipbone. “You sure?” He said it so quietly it was hard to hear. He sounded uncertain.
Jaimie pushed herself up on her elbow and kissed him again, hard. He groaned and wrapped a fist in her hair, pulling her closer.
Ty watched them both, smiling. Even a little drunk, he knew that Dean was growing possessive about Jaimie. He needed to make sure they were both okay with him being here.
He looked down at Jaimie’s legs, slightly spread. There was already a little wet spot on her panties. He leaned over the foot of the bed, waiting for their kiss to end, and when it did he looked into her eyes, asking permission for what he was about to do. Jaimie glanced at Dean, then nodded almost imperceptibly.
Ty sank to his knees at the end of the bed. Jaimie had a small tattoo at the side of her knee in the shape of a four-leaf clover. He wrapped his hand around the back of her knee and rubbed the tat with his thumb.
He reached up and crooked fingers under the waist of her panties, pulling them down. His hands ran up over her calves, her knees, then parted her thighs with gentle fingers, stroking. Her clit was engorged. He ran his index finger gently down her slit. Her thighs quivered. She was pretty there, small and neat and perfect like the rest of her, vulnerable in a way Ty hadn’t known.
Her toenails were painted blue. He smiled a little at that.
He looked up, eyes traveling over the curve of her stomach, her smooth skin. He spread her a little with his fingers and lapped at the hood of her clit, then pushed it up and slid his tongue slowly over her. She was slick, wet, gliding against his tongue.
Jaimie tensed a moment and Ty stopped, pulling back. She brought her feet up and braced against the footboard, knees bent, and spread her legs wide. At the head of the bed, Dean reached over her body, held both her hands against the bed and murmured something low and reassuring. He bent and sucked a stiff nipple into his mouth.
Ty lowered his head again, licked slow and measured and sweet until her body shook and thrummed against his touch. Her ass lifted off the bed, pressing her cunt closer to his mouth. He used the flat of his tongue, pressing a little harder but refusing to speed up. Her clit pulsed, juices rolling down her thighs. Dean kissed her, didn’t stop, holding her hands down with his own.
Ty licked her again and again, feeling the slow buildup of orgasm thrumming beneath her skin, the tension of her thighs under his hands, the throb of her clit. She gasped and writhed. He thrust his tongue inside her. Her body stiffened and she moaned, thrusting her hips, coming. He felt her pulsing around his tongue.
Dean kissed Jaimie through it, following with gentler kisses as she came down. Ty watched them. Finally Dean looked up and saw Ty watching. His eyes were avid. Something else was there, too—want, anticipation, maybe, but it was hard to tell. Ty hoped like hell that he was reading Dean right.
Ty stood up and wiped off his mouth. He walked to Dean and put his hands around Dean’s head, made him look up. Dean’s pupils were wide, warm and dark. He licked his lips.
Ty leaned over fast, slamming his mouth over Dean’s. Dean grunted in surprise, then moaned. Ty fucked his tongue into Dean’s mouth, hard and fast. Dean’s body vibrated like a tuning fork against his.
Ty pulled back, still holding onto Dean’s hair at the back. “I remember on a case once, you told me somebody wanted you to take a guy on a date. Remember that?”
“You would remember something like that. You got a point?”
“So did you take the guy out?”
“Okay, yeah. I did, though it’s not any of your business.”
“What happened? Did you bottom?”
Dean’s face went pink. “You’re kidding me, right? Fuck you.” He stood. Ty’s hand fell away from his head.
“I’m sorry, Dean. Damn, my big mouth. I, uh, just, I think it sounds so damn hot, man. I wanted to know.”
Dean looked startled. His mouth curved up in an unwilling grin. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, but I’m a friendly asshole, you know that. And I’m your partner. C’mon, man. You can’t stay mad at me.”
Dean shook his head. “Nah. Guess I can’t.”
“So we’re okay.”
Ty slammed Dean against the wall by the nightstand and kissed him. He unbuckled Dean’s pants, buried a hand in his crotch. Dean yelped and Jaimie sat up in bed, naked and grinning.
Ty kissed Dean until Dean’s dick felt like a rock in his pants and he was panting and needy, until the yellow glow of the bedside light blurred in his vision and he had to brace his legs straight so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself and slide down the wall. He nearly did anyway when Ty let go of him to undress, because Ty was fucking gorgeous, rippling with muscle, tattooed over his chest and arms—a wolf on his left shoulder, a bird’s wing over his right collarbone.
When Ty was naked, he gestured impatiently at Dean’s clothes. Dean made record time taking them off. Jaimie leapt up to avoid getting crushed underneath two naked men crashing together on the bed. Ty was on top in a heartbeat, grinding his cock into Dean’s, ignoring the burn of his new tattoo with every move.
“You okay with this?” Ty panted.
Dean laughed, breathless. “You’re asking now?” He reached down, his fingers roving over Ty’s balls, tight against his body, then circled his cock and gave it a couple of quick hard jerks. “What do you think?”
“Fuck.” Ty threw his head back, gasping. “I think you should do that again.”
Dean grinned and rolled them over on the bed. “Maybe I will.” He slid down Ty’s chest, stopping to bite at his collarbone and the tattoo over it. He lapped over a nipple, sucking it into his mouth until Ty squirmed, then down again over the tight, muscled stomach, finally licking over the head of Ty’s cock. Ty’s back bowed, trying to thrust, but Dean wouldn’t let him inside his mouth. He fluttered and swirled his tongue over the dusky head and licked long wet lines down the length of it.
Ty groaned, grabbed Dean’s head, and finally Dean sucked him in one swoop. His hand curled around the base, jacking Ty in time with the up-down rhythm of his mouth. Ty ran his fingers through Dean’s short hair and fucked into Dean’s fat swollen lips, ass flexing and bunching.
Dean didn’t stop him, just opened wider. His eyes were closed, dark lashes against his cheeks, holding to Ty’s fast rhythm without protest. He ground his dick into the bed, groaning with Ty’s dick in his mouth.
“Oh fuck, fuck fuck,” Ty said, ragged and desperate. “God, your mouth, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”
Dean stayed where he was, holding Ty’s hips to the bed and swallowing hard, mouth stretched around Ty’s cock. Ty took one more look, moaned and emptied himself into Dean’s mouth.
Ty breathed hard, chest heaving. Dean rolled off to the side and put an arm over his eyes. Ty reached a heavy hand out and grabbed Dean’s arm, rubbed it slowly. “Give me just a sec. You killed me, man.”
Dean pulled his arm away from his face. He looked wrecked, his cock hard against his stomach, thick veins tracing over it in swollen relief. “You better hurry the hell up—”
Jaimie put a leg over him, slid on top of him and lowered herself smoothly onto his cock. Her hair fell over her face, soft and mussed. Dean grunted, surged up inside her. Five strokes and he shot inside her, kissing her as if he couldn’t let go and moaning her name into her mouth.
Afterward, all three of them lay on the bed, unmoving. Ty dozed a little. Finally Dean stood and offered Jaimie a hand up. Ty followed. Showering was an assembly-line process, one after the other after the other.
They wandered into the living room and turned on the TV. Dean popped popcorn in the microwave and brought out beer. They watched a ridiculously awful old movie featuring aliens and ghouls. At the end a burning space ship took off, looking a little like a flaming paper plate.
Ty collapsed back on the coach, groaning. Dean threw popcorn at the TV, and Jaimie called him a pig.
It was three days later, and they were alone at Jaimie’s place on a Saturday afternoon.
Dean stared off over Jaime’s shoulder. “Listen. That thing with Ty—that was just a one time thing, right?” he said.
Jaimie looked at him speculatively. “Why?”
Her voice gave away nothing. “Why just a one time thing? You looked like you had a good time.”
“Not a law against it, far as I know.” Dean flushed up to the roots of his hair. He’d let it grow out an inch or so.
Jaimie thought he looked adorable, lips pink, eyes wide and a little alarmed. She shrugged. “Relax. You had a good time, that’s all I’m saying. We all knew it.”
“You think? I think you guys should pay attention to your own fun, not mine.”
“Are you kidding me? That’d be like me telling you not to pay attention to me when we’re having sex. It doesn’t make any sense. Your fun was my fun.” Jaimie leaned close. “I couldn’t help it, Dean. You were so hot, all laid out and open to it.” She paused. “The gay thing give you a problem?”
“What, no! Maybe it gave Ty a problem, I don’t know.”
“It did not. He liked it.”
“And you know this.”
“I do. So what’s up with you?”
I just … ” Dean looked miserable. He ran a hand over his head, ruffling his hair.
“What?” Jaimie asked impatiently.
“I—we’re—aren’t we dating?”
“Maybe Ty wants to date us, too.” She shrugged, eyes narrowing. “Or it was just a one night thing. But he looked pretty happy.”
“I don’t think he wants to date us. He was miserable and he needed some company, that’s all. He’s a guy, c’mon. Definitely a one night thing.” Dean turned away, putting his hands on his hips. He sighed. “Okay, okay, so I don’t know what Ty thinks, all right? But you and me, we just started—officially and all, right?” He turned back to look at Jaimie, nearly pleading. “So can’t it just be me and you? See how it goes?” He flushed again and looked away, arranging his features into something approximating blankness.
It made Jaimie’s stomach hurt. “You can take it back, you know.” Even to her own ears she sounded brittle.
“What are you talking about?” Dean almost yelled it. He paced across the floor and ran a hand over his head.
Jaimie stared at him. “You looked like you wished you hadn’t said what you said. I’m saying you can still take it back.”
“I can? But—” Dean stopped short.
“Yeah, of course you can.”
“Okay, but I—damn it. I don’t want to take it back, okay.” He met her eyes, nodding his head as if it sounded good to him as he said it. He stood taller, and his voice was louder. “What if I don’t take it back?”
Jaimie stepped closer. “Then five words. You. Me. Little blue blazer. You owe me a date that I know is actually a date. Got it?”
Dean nodded. His hands roamed over her back as they kissed. He pulled back, hands at her waist, grinning at her. His eyes were bright. It made him look boyish, innocent, like maybe some corn-fed guy from some Midwestern state. Or at least what she thought a corn-fed guy from some Midwestern state should look like.
“It’s a date. I’m holding you to it this time.” Dean was still grinning.
She couldn’t help but grin back.
Three weeks later and the team had just wrapped up another case. Dean and Jaimie were at Dean’s place after another actual, honest-to-God real date, kissing lazily on the couch. Dean had a hand under Jaimie’s shirt.
The doorbell rang.
They looked at each other. Dean strode to the door, irritated. He checked through the peep hole and sagged against the door, all the anger gone out of him. “It’s Ty,” he said quietly. “What should I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you want. I’m good with it, honest.” Jaimie nodded for emphasis.
Dean put a hand on the doorknob and then hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So we'd still be ...”
“Yeah, of course. Just ... I think maybe Ty needs us right now.”
Dean eyed her, the corner of his mouth turning up. “You think I don't know what you're doing?”
“What?” Jaimie looked at him, wide-eyed.
Dean shook his head and opened the door. Ty walked in.
Jaimie smiled. “Ty.”
Ty smiled back, looking happier than she’d seen him since, well, since last time at the apartment. He came in and sat beside her on the couch, kissing her cheek. Dean frowned a little.
Ty stopped smiling. He watched Dean. “Is this okay, me being here?”
“We’ve missed you,” Jaimie said. She looked at Dean. “Haven’t we?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I’m not telling him I missed him. I see him almost every day.”
“You know what you remind me of sometimes? A banty rooster,” Jaimie said.
Ty rubbed a hand over his head and snickered.
“Excuse me?” Dean’s eyebrows rose.
Ty raised his hands up in protest. “Who, me? I didn’t say anything.”
“You heard me,” Jaimie said. “Strutting in the chicken yard with your feathers on end and your comb sticking up.”
“My what sticking up?”
“Your cockscomb. You know.”
“Where did you say you’re from, farm girl?”
“My grandparents had a chicken coop when I was young. Raised their own vegetables, too. You learn something new every day, don’t you, city boy?”
Dean’s eyebrows lowered. “So you’re what, calling me an angry chicken? Really?”
Ty turned aside, trying to smother a grin. Dean saw it anyway and glared at him.
Ty poked Jaimie in the ribs with an elbow. “You know you’re screwing with my chances of him having sex with me again.”
Jaimie bumped shoulders with Ty. “Not likely.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s not looking too friendly right now,” Ty said.
Jaimie sighed. “Don’t be insecure.”
“If you know me, then you know insecurity ain’t happening here.” Ty gave Dean a long, hungry look, eyes roving over his body.
“A cockscomb. Huh.” Dean thought a moment and shrugged. He caught Ty sizing him up and smirked.
“This is what you want to have sex with?” said Jaimie, and Ty laughed.