Sara wouldn't necessarily say she knows Shane and Ryan better than they know themselves, just because that's kind of belittling and not really her style. That being said, Sara does have a... unique perspective - on the two of them, specifically, and on the world they are all living in, generally. Sara has known them both for half a dozen years, been dating one of them for five, and the other for soon to be two. She can navigate all of their quirks by habit and she knows all the trivia of their lives without her.
Sara knows that Ryan has been in love with almost every single one of his girlfriends, just as she knows that Shane's heart is a little more selective. She knows that Ryan had sex for the first time in his junior year of high school with his steady girlfriend and that they stayed together after that until well past graduation. She knows that Shane had sex for the first time as a college freshman in his stinky dorm room with an older woman that he'd met less than a week before and was just friends with after with no regrets. She knows that despite what those experiences might imply, Ryan is vastly more sexually adventurous than Shane - if only because he happens to have a wilder imagination.
Sara knows that Ryan loves roller coasters and Shane really, really doesn't. She knows that Ryan thinks mint chip ice cream is an abomination, that Shane's favorite flavor is Neapolitan. She knows how both of them take their coffee, what each of them likes for breakfast on a lazy weekend morning. She knows which side of the bed they each prefer to sleep on, how hot they take their showers, what their hangovers are like. She knows their clothing sizes and all of their important dates to remember (or at least, she has those written down... somewhere). She knows their types - in movies, in shows, in fictional characters, celebrities, women.
Except, no, not women, because Sara knows, actually, Shane's and Ryan's types in people.
Neither of them has ever been with another man (or anyone of any other gender), never considered asking any non-woman person out on a date. This is another thing that Sara knows about them both. But then again, Sara herself has only been with another woman once and only for one night and not exactly stone cold sober, and she'll probably never be with a woman again, because she's with Shane and Ryan now and that's really shaping up to be that. But that doesn't make her straight.
It's like she said. She has a unique perspective.
Sara remembers exactly what it feels like - as a totally random example - to be desperately attracted to her same sex best friend and to not realize that's what that was until it's way too late to do anything about it. She remembers what it feels like to watch someone constantly, to marvel at their beauty, and how funny and smart they are, and how she wants to spend every second of her time with them, and how she craves their attention like she's addicted to it, and how the phantom of their touch haunts her every thought for hours or even days - and to think that she's just being a little friend-clingy, nothing more. She remembers the way her thoughts would reflexively contort around and away from the truth, the way she'd believe her own endless explanations and excuses for those stray feelings that slipped through. She remembers the pain she'd been in, and how she hadn't known why, how she'd hardly even bothered to take note of it. She'd just thought it was normal for your heart to be broken open and aching all the time, to be lonely and confused every second of being alive.
That sort of thing leaves a pretty bold impression, and once you can finally see the pattern it's almost instinct to see it everywhere else it comes up. Sara privately calls it her Queer's Eye View (because 'gaydar' is reductive).
So when Shane spends a little too much time complaining about Ryan's workout noises, Sara sees it for what it is. When Ryan dumps twenty rapid-fire compliments over Shane's head like when the giant bucket at the water park finally overflows and tips over, Sara sees it. When the two of them accidentally third wheel the fuck out of Steven, Sara sees it (and she thinks Steven does too, the way he sighs and stares into the middle distance until the two of them come back to earth). When the two of them look into each other's eyes for long, long moments after they've just finished out some overextended bit, glowing with pleasure and not ready to stop, Sara sees it. When they take every tiny little opportunity to touch each other, Shane brushing Ryan's elbow here, Ryan punching Shane's shoulder there, pushing and tugging at each other everywhere, guiding each other unnecessarily through doors or up stairs, tapping each other for attention and then lingering, Sara sees it.
And when Shane low-key grills her for details every time she comes home from a night out with Ryan and goes dull around his edges but keeps asking and asking, always wanting to hear more, Sara sees that for what it is too. When Ryan makes himself nervous and jumpy by bending straight-guy code just a little too far and lays a few dozen little cuts on himself walking it back in a hurry, Sara sees it. Sara sees all this, from her Queer's Eye View, and it breaks her bisexual little heart all over again.
It's toward the end of a late night. Ryan is over at Shane's and Sara's house and they've kept putting in just one more movie, popped just one more bowl of popcorn before Ryan has to leave. Ryan falls asleep on Shane's shoulder and Shane gives him a familiar look. It's the look that told Sara that Shane loved her before he could put it into words, that same look he's been giving Ryan too for years now without noticing, and Sara decides then that she can't let things go on this way. Thoughtlessly, Shane lifts his hand to gently push back Ryan's hair from his face. It's fluffy and free of product from the shower he took here after coming home with Shane from work. Shane follows the flicker of Ryan's eyes under his lids with a soft, delicate awe for a moment before his mouth starts to thin with regret. He doesn't know that he can let this happen, doesn't know that he doesn't have to wake Ryan up and make him leave and subconsciously miss him after going to bed with Sara alone. But Sara knows. And maybe if she gives him permission he'll be able to start figuring out how to give it to himself too.
"We don't have to wake him up," she whispers. Shane has to tear his gaze off of Ryan to glance up at her questioningly.
"S'pose we could let him sleep here," he murmurs. He pets through Ryan's hair again, mindlessly, like it's in his bones to touch him like that. "He'll wake up cranky though." Sara hums in agreement, and then takes the chance to push a little more.
"Or you could carry him to bed with us." Shane goes still. Sara can practically see the gears turning, the norms in his head telling him no he can't, it's not possible. She helps again. "Don't worry, I'll be your pillow wall." The joke breaks Shane free, however little, and he huffs a non-disruptive laugh at her. His eyebrows move around on his forehead a little, wryly, probably thinking about how his relationship with Ryan is already a little bit more-than-friends anyway by virtue of Sara's relationship with them both.
That's really all it takes. Shane stands, shaking his head at Sara with a fond smile as if he's indulging her, and struggles to lift Ryan's significantly denser form into his arms without waking him up.
"Hohgod," he grunts and stumbles his way into the bedroom with Sara on his heels, all his care wasted when his gracelessness wakes Ryan up as soon as he starts trying to move. Ryan mumbles in incoherent confusion, but he wraps his arms and legs around Shane to keep himself from being dropped like it's only natural. Shane all but throws Ryan onto the bed, complaining, "You're even heavier than you look!" and making Ryan snort. Laughing wakes him up a little bit more and Ryan takes in his surroundings fully. He gives Shane a questioning look.
"You going somewhere?" he wonders, even though the digital clock on the bedside table is telling them all that it's past two in the morning. Given that Ryan is in the same boat as Shane where this stuff is concerned, he can't think about the two of them in bed together beyond necessity. But Ryan has been in this bed with Sara while Shane is busy or out of town dozens of times. That's the only assumption he's allowed to make.
"The lady wants double cuddles," Shane explains. It's an excuse, and a flimsy one at that, but it's late and Sara wants them to have this, at least tonight if not tomorrow or next week, so she crawls onto the bed next to Ryan to make it hold water.
"Oh, well," Ryan accepts, all but eagerly, going for his jeans to get them off and get comfortable. "What the lady wants, the lady gets." Sara is already in her pajamas, so she busies herself with pulling back the covers and fluffing the pillows and settling down right in the center of the bed while Ryan wiggles into his underwear and Shane changes into a pair of sleep pants and a muscle tee that Ryan left here once and that mysteriously never found its way back to him. Shane clicks off the light and then gets under the covers behind Sara. She snuggles back against his chest and throws one arm and one leg over Ryan, reveling in the warmth of both of them around her.
Shane slides one big hand over Sara's shoulder, down her arm, hesitates at her wrist, and then rests it over her hand. His hand just so happens to slip off of hers a little bit, mostly on safe ground but a little bit on the bare skin of Ryan's belly, a small enough touch that it could be an accident. No one mentions it. Ryan pretends to have already fallen back asleep so that he doesn't have to. Sara lays there, idly scheming, for long enough that Ryan falls asleep for real. Shane is right on the verge but hasn't slipped off into dreamland just yet when Sara finally decides to go for it and slides her hand down to Ryan's hip, leaving Shane's own hand on Ryan's skin without her as a barrier. He makes a sleepy noise, then flattens his hand out, stretching his fingers wide to cover as much of Ryan as he can without actually touching him more. Sara smiles and just looks, even after Shane has fallen asleep too, wistfully tracing her eyes over where the two of them meet in the dark.
Sara goes to sleep satisfied and determined that night. Now that she seems to have started pushing them closer, opening up doors, it's not in her nature to stop until the job is done.
In her defense, Sara does try a more subtle approach first. It doesn't work, obviously. Probably only in part because of the normativity that they're up against here, and a great deal in part because it's them and they're at once both stubborn and just generally oblivious.
She starts giving Shane more details about what it's like to be with Ryan than he even asks for - and he really does ask for a lot already. She also brings up other men more often than she has before; celebrities, exes, the hot busker they pass every Thursday. And then, realizing that maybe a different kind of safety net might help coax him out from the one he's trapped in, she also starts talking about not men. Shane already knows that Sara's queer, of course, but she knows how different it is to know, intellectually, that it's okay versus what it is to really, really be sure in your heart. So Sara deliberately makes herself a little freer with acknowledging her own attractions. If Kelsey is looking particularly good in a video, or Sara remembers that Gwendoline Christie exists, or someone of indeterminate gender catches her eye on the subway, she lets Shane know. If she had any worry that he'd get jealous he blows it out of the park. He's thrilled. It's like a fun game for him. Anyone she mentions, Shane obligingly checks out, cheerfully finds something about them to compliment, and has a little spring in his step after. Sara doesn't know exactly what about it he likes so much, but she's not one to look a gift in the mouth. For Shane (and Ryan) to be happy is all she wants in the first place.
The only problem is, that's all Shane does. He only ever takes her lead, and he's always careful to compliment men on their fashion choices or their hobbies. The closest he gets to a physical attribute is their hairstyles. And it's not that Sara picks duds for him to look at. It took her a minute to work out what he really likes in men, versus what he tends to like in women, but she figures it out and starts catering to him. She knows she has his number when she can watch him take them in with slow honey eyes that linger over their jawlines or their legs, the way his lips twitch when they have beards and he has the fleeting and hurriedly repressed thought as to what kissing them would feel like.
With Ryan it's a little easier, just because Sara already has a pre-prepared type to go off of that she can spring on him at a moment's notice.
"So. How bout that Henry Cavill, huh?" she says when they're having a lunch date together while Shane is helping Steven with something for a set. Ryan half laughs and half groans around his mouthful of sandwich, rolling his eyes at both her and himself.
"Don't get me started," he gripes. "You'll make me waste my whole day." Sara smiles innocently, slurping up the last of her smoothie through her straw.
"I mean," she continues, ignoring his pseudo-warning. "The wig in Witcher is maybe not super great, but the stubble, am I right?"
"Please," Ryan says. "That man would look good with a plastic bag for hair." Sara almost thinks, maybe. Maybe that lightbulb is gonna go off, any minute now- But Ryan's brain won't let him have it and instead sends him off on a ten minute rant about Cavill's muscles that he'll be convinced later was really all about fitness.
So clearly Sara has to push them a little harder.
The thing is, right, that Shane and Ryan are both wrapped so tight around Sara's little fingers that she can practically get anything she wants from them. She's just as gone on them, of course, but that's not the point. So maybe she can't gently guide them into facing their attraction to men, to each other, on their own accord. But she figures if she makes it something that's about her somehow, they'll one-eighty into competing to see who can do it better without a second thought. From there it's not a leap to think about asking them to get steamy with each other for her titillation, and if they do that surely then the bisexual chips will have to fall into place.
And, well. It certainly would not be a hardship for her, now would it.
So Sara thinks about it from every angle, reassures herself with everything she knows about herself and about her boys that it'll work out even if it doesn't work, and spends a lot of time touching herself about it. That last thing wasn't really part of the plan, but it's unavoidable. Shane and Ryan are really hot separately, and Sara has every last detail she could possibly need to put together a deeply immersive fantasy of them together. What's a girl to do?
When she's confident that she really does want to try it, Sara invites Ryan over for a nice Sunday brunch.
Shane makes them omelettes and Ryan makes them mimosas and Sara warms up the pastries she picked up on her way home from her evening yoga class yesterday. Shane and Ryan are pulling each other's pigtails as they dance around in the kitchen, Shane still in his pajamas (Ryan's shirt, again). They poke and prod at each other, tease and joke and commit to extra juvenile bits until Sara scolds, "Boys!" and then they both kiss her instead. Having both of their hands around her tiny waist at once is not new but it's not quite familiar either, and it makes her shiver with the possibilities.
They put on a morning talk show to completely ignore and eat all tangled up with each other on the couch. Sara takes her and Ryan's plates into the kitchen when they're done (Shane is still working on his seconds) and then she watches them from behind. Ryan tells joke after joke, just to watch Shane laugh his gorgeous crinkle-eyed laugh in the glittering early morning sunlight, and with every giggle Shane crowds in closer to him. It would be the perfect ambiance for a kiss, if they would just kiss.
"I would like you to kindly join me at the Negotiation Nook," Sara tells the back of their heads. They turn around on the couch to look at her in unison, and she aches a little bit with how much she loves them both and how much she wants them to be as happy and fulfilled as humanly possible - how close they are, maybe, to getting that much happier.
"Which one of us?" Ryan asks for both of them. Shane's mouth seems to be full nearly to overflowing with omelette, and thus he cannot speak.
"Both of you," Sara says. Her boys blink at her, and then turn inwards to give each other the same playfully solicitous look. And then, laughing and easy, they get up and follow her back to the kitchen. Shane sets his plate in the sink and then the three of them settle down at the little round table tucked in the open space in here that is not quite big enough or separated enough to be called a dining room. On lazy Sunday mornings like today started out, or on weeknights that have run so late that they missed dinner but still have to eat, it's just a regular breakfast nook like you would find in any other nook-having household. But when it's needed, this little round table rises to the call and becomes the Negotiation Nook: a judgement-free and clothing-required place for them to work out the logistics of having sex with each other safely.
"So what's up?" Ryan asks, folding his arms, business-like, in front of himself on the table. "Why both of us?" It's not an unfair question. The last time all three of them sat at the Negotiation Nook together was back when they decided Ryan didn't need to wear a condom anymore, and before that it was when they decided Ryan and Sara could date in the first place. Otherwise it's been just one of them here with her. Sara's just trying to work towards a future where the two of them are free enough to come here without her too.
"I am wildly attracted to both of you, as you well know." Sara strategically starts her pitch with flattery. Maybe it's a little bit of a dirty trick but, well. The Negotiation Nook is not exactly known for facilitating the good, clean kind of fun.
"Ryan," she says, and he sits up a little straighter to demonstrate that she has his full attention. "Your noises are so pretty." Instantly, Ryan blushes bright red and gives her a boyish grin. She smiles back, and then turns to her other boyfriend.
"Shane," she says, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. Sara smirks at him, taps her chin like she's thinking. "Let's just say you have a lot to offer, hm?" Shane coughs out a quiet laugh and turns his face away slightly, as bashful as he always is any time Sara mentions his size. He's never quite sure how to gracefully accept a compliment on something he can't control. In her periphery Sara can see Ryan making a face about how much Shane having a big dick does not shock him, which she struggles not to laugh at.
"So," she continues, because she can only butter them up so much. "There's something I want from you guys. Both of you. At the same time."
"Holy shit," Ryan gasps, almost before Sara finishes speaking. His eyes are wide, pupils just a little bit dilated, and he's leaning over the table towards her in eagerness. "Are we gonna-?"
"Slow down!" Sara interrupts quickly. She realizes now how phrasing it like that might have made it sound. She hasn't ever thought about, like, double penetration or spit-roasting or whatever it is that Ryan is imagining both of them would do to her at the same time. But she's very into how into it he apparently is, so she files it away to consider later. "It's not what you're thinking. I would be watching." She hesitates there, not on purpose. No matter how low stakes the three of them have engineered it to be, and no matter how much she's thought about it and rehearsed how she'll say it, it's still hard to so plainly state her sexual wants, especially when she's kind of juggling theirs for this one as well.
"Watching," Shane repeats, gently prodding her to keep explaining what she's after.
"Yes, watching," she confirms with a nod that is mostly to boost her own confidence. "I want to watch the two of you, together."
"We're- the- Me and Shane?" Ryan stutters. He's trying not to laugh, like the idea is comical, ludicrous, but it doesn't escape Sara's notice that he's still leaning in close. He's interested, even if he hasn't figured that out yet. Sara doesn't answer him, because the answer is obvious and they all know he and Shane are exactly who she meant.
"You... know we're both straight," Shane says. There's the barest hint of a question in there because Shane has never felt the need to explicitly label himself that way, at least not while Sara's known him, and they've been checking out guys as a couple's activity for weeks now, so he's thinking maybe there's a chance she doesn't, in fact, know for sure that he's straight. Of course, Sara is quite sure that Shane isn't straight, actually, and neither is Ryan, that's the whole point here (or at least... eighty-percent of it, now), but if she comes right out and says that now then this is all going to go off the rails. So instead she sort-of lies.
"Yes," and she rushes on when they both tilt their heads at her like confused puppies. "That's kind of part of it, you know? I want to watch you guys have sex with each other for my pleasure." Sara does feel a little twinge of guilt at that, of course she does. The Negotiation Nook is supposed to be a whole-truth-and-nothing-but-the-truth zone, but this is a special case. Sara is completely certain that this little white lie - which is not even actually, technically, untrue! - won't hurt anybody, but not telling it, letting them continue believing the ones they've been forced to tell themselves, will.
"Hm," says Shane shortly, going still as a statue. It's apparent that he didn't fully think about having sex with Ryan, even though he knew that's what Sara was asking, until she said it in exactly those words.
"Uh," says Ryan, trying and failing to not fidget. There's a long pause and then he adds, haltingly, "I, um. I really thought that was, uh, a thing that exclusively happened in porn."
"Well somebody's gotta dream that porn up, don't they?" Sara points out reasonably.
"I guess that's true," Ryan concedes with a sideways nod. He's more relaxed now that he has a way to talk about it tangentially. "But I mean, in porn they're only faking at... faking."
"Who can really say," Sara says mildly. It's a leading comment and Ryan follows it just like she knew he would.
"Oh, you can definitely tell," he insists with a conspicuous - and unsurprising - level of confidence. "No straight guy can pretend to like fucking another dude that much."
"Do you watch a lot of 'straight guy turned gay' porn, Ryan?" Sara asks sweetly. Very sweetly indeed. Ryan freezes just like Shane now, seeming to realize only now that it's been acknowledged out loud what that little habit might imply about him. Shane comes back to life enough to wheeze and then cover his grin without any actual repentance.
"Hey! The Negotiation Nook is a no-laughing zone, Madej!" Ryan scolds him, but he's smiling and loose-limbed again. Sara and Shane both know that Ryan likes to be laughed at as long as there's no real malice in it. And if Sara knows that maybe a little bit better than Shane right now, well. She's sure he'll be learning all about it soon enough. Now that the two of them have made it over the hurdle of their trained discomfort, the negotiation starts flowing a little smoother, a little more like usual.
"Anything in particular you have in mind?" Shane asks with a deliberate tone of curiosity. He clearly doubts that this discussion is going to end with them setting up a scene but he would never dream of shutting Sara down before they have the chance to talk it out, just like she would never do to him.
"Of course," she says, and she lets some of her enthusiasm show through now. The only thing that will make them really want it - before they actually get started, anyway - is seeing how much she wants it. "I want to watch you guys make out. Slip each other some tongue. A lot of tongue. Like, visible amounts of tongue." Redness starts to spread over Shane's cheeks and nose, and Sara grins to see it. Shane may not blush as easily as Ryan, but boy when he does it shows. On the other side of the table Ryan coughs delicately and- shifts his weight. Sara won't call it a squirm. Not yet.
"What, uh. What else?" he asks. His voice comes out a little husky, but Sara pretends not to notice for now. Her boys need the safety blanket of deniability for just a little bit longer to get where they need to go.
"Hickeys, for sure," she says instead. It's not like this whole concept is just for them, after all. She really does want to watch them, kind of thinks she'd probably want to watch them with anyone who managed to reach the same place in her heart that they both have. She absolutely has a list of demands. "I want you to leave marks all over each other. Want you to play with each other's nipples. One of you needs to sit in the other one's lap while that's happening. And I want at least one of you to suck the other one's dick." The two of them blink at her in silence when she finishes. And Sara has been having sex with these two men for a considerable time now. She knows how much Shane loves to be marked up, she's aware of Ryan's insatiable oral fixation, she's felt how hard both of them get when they have her on top of them. And, most importantly, she could spot their arousal blindfolded at twenty paces.
It's good to be right.
Shane scratches his nose and flicks his eyes over to Ryan and away again. Ryan shifts his stare from Sara to the middle distance behind her, wide-eyed, for a few seconds before shooting Shane the exact same furtive glance. Sara magnanimously refrains from rolling her eyes. Patience is a virtue, and yada yada.
"Okay, you big babies," she says, her voice coming out way too fond for the insult to land. "Close your eyes." They do immediately, their trust making Sara's heart skip a beat from happiness. "Now, if you are okay with doing this thing raise your hand." Both of them are slow about it, hesitant, embarrassed (scared), but both of them raise their hand. "Okay, now open your eyes without putting your hand down." They do just as she said, and Sara knows that they're being so much braver than it would look like to anyone else. It's not so easy to do, admitting to your best friend that you're chill to get bent with him. The very existence of this whole scheme is proof of that.
"Okay," Ryan says after taking a deep breath and lowering his hand back onto the table. Shane doesn't so much as twitch just yet, but Sara's not too worried about it. Ryan has always been the fastest out of all three of them to go from maybe to yes . He has follow up questions, and he's just as nervous as he asks them as he was when he had first copped to his interest in Sara, but he asks them. He asks, and Sara answers, and he adds in a few of his own boundaries and suggestions, and eventually Shane comes back online and joins in.
They put together the scene, double check that they all agree on it, and choose a date.
The day comes both too fast and not fast enough for Sara. She wakes up the morning of, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, to find Shane lying next to her already awake, staring up at the ceiling. She flops on top of him to give him a sloppy morning kiss, to make him laugh when she doesn't quite stick the landing on his mouth.
"Today's the day!" she reminds him cheerfully, even though it doesn't take a genius to see that he's well aware. He rubs a hand up and down Sara's back, rumpling her sleep shirt.
"Excited?" he asks her - so she's not the only one stating the obvious this morning. Sara is already nodding before he finishes the word, and then going in for a better kiss. Shane opens up under Sara's lips and tongue, easy and unusually submissive. Sara groans into his mouth and kisses him harder, just because he'll let her, and he melts into the mattress and does just that. She kisses him deep and wet like that, slides her hands into his hair and tugs at it gently, until she pushes him past his threshold for passivity and he grabs for her hips. Only then does Sara pull away. Shane's wordless complaint is music to Sara's ears, and just to hear it again she reaches between his legs and gives him a single unsatisfying squeeze. He pouts at her exaggeratedly when she climbs out of bed.
"Save that for Ryan," she teases with a toothy grin. He swallows hard at that, blinking under the sudden onslaught of all the details they'd arranged for this evening. Sara turns away from him so he doesn't see the way her smile goes soft and wistful - and so that he has the privacy, if he needs it, to think about tonight a little, ahem, harder.
The rest of the day passes normally. Shane makes them pancakes for breakfast, and then Sara stretches and meditates while he gets some work in. They have lunch, Shane calls his parents for their weekly chat while Sara makes some art, and then they read together until it's time for dinner. Sara makes a big, colorful salad for three and Shane takes out a bottle of wine to breathe. Ryan shows up fifteen minutes early, with cheesecake, and Sara kisses him long and slow in the doorway before letting him in as a reward. Her boys don't eat very much and studiously avoid looking at each other, and Sara knows she's gonna have to get them to chill out before they can get to the main event.
"So, Ryan," she says, casually as can be, after leading them into the living room and sitting them down next to each other on the couch. "Shane and I can't get past this part in Diablo III, will you tap in for me?" They both smile at her as she presses controllers into their hands, knowing exactly what she's doing and playing along not without gratitude. They play until they feel like they've won something, mashing at buttons and swearing and talking shit, and gravitating closer and closer and closer to each other until they're pressed shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee.
"Ha!" Ryan crows as Shane maneuvers his character on top of a save point. He pumps his fist and tosses his controller onto the table, and when Shane is done saving the game he does the same and throws one arm up behind Ryan's shoulders so that he has the room to sink into the back of the couch. Ryan is grinning and slightly flushed from indulging his competitive streak when he looks across Shane at Sara. His breath catches in his chest when he sees the way she's watching them, remembering what he's here for tonight. Sara knows if she was sitting closer she might even be able to see his pulse jump at the side of his throat. Paragon of bravery (and impulsiveness) that he is, Ryan turns to Shane without further ado and plants a quick, chaste kiss on his mouth. He pulls back right away, his hands twisted up in his lap like he's sorry, but Shane licks his lips and lets his arm come around Ryan, hovering at Ryan's back like he's still not sure of his welcome to touch. Ryan sighs in relief, and with one last glance at Sara he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss Shane again.
It's a real kiss this time, a give-and-take press of their lips with a rhythm and a little bit of wetness. Shane lets his eyes flutter shut too and finally brings his hand down to rest lightly on Ryan's back and encourage him. Sara can tell when Ryan does his signature bottom lip bite because Shane makes a surprised, interested noise and opens his mouth. It's only a few seconds after that that Shane has his lightbulb moment. Ryan tilts his head to kiss Shane a little deeper - Sara can't tell if they've involved their tongues yet and it's really fifty-fifty odds with these two - and suddenly Shane's eyes shoot open. He doesn't pull away but he loses the rhythm of the kiss enough that Ryan does. Ryan doesn't notice the way Shane nervously searches his face, too busy squeezing a hand around the meat of Shane's shoulder.
"Fuck, you're so big," he breathes, and Sara could bet that he thinks it's an innocuous comment the same way he thinks his obsession with Henry Cavill's muscles is about fitness. She could bet that he thinks it's just the logistics of making them fit together comfortably that has him planting his knees on either side of Shane's hips. He looks over at Sara again then, and asks, "You said you wanted hickeys, right?" Shane stops breathing, for just a moment.
"So many hickeys, Ryan," Sara confirms with a grin that is maybe a little sharper than Ryan was expecting, judging by the way his eyebrows jump. But he laughs and his eyes sparkle and he turns away from her to tilt Shane's head to the side with a knuckle under his chin.
"So many hickeys, coming right up," he says. "Uh, if- Is this still okay, big guy? I know it's weird." It's a fucking tragedy that he should sound guilty when he's doing absolutely everything right, but fate willing he'll finally know how perfect Shane thinks he is before too long now. Shane leaves his head tilted, his throat exposed for Ryan, as he brings his hands around to hold Ryan by the hips.
"It's fine," he says, a defensive understatement. Ryan searches Shane's face, isn't sure if he finds what he's looking for, and looks to Sara. Sara nods. Ryan bends and gets his open mouth in close, his nose tucked into the hinge of Shane's jaw, and hesitates there. No doubt Shane knows that's what it is, but it must also feel like such a tease, Ryan's breath against his sensitive skin, and his eyes flutter shut again as he bites the inside of his lip and waits.
Shane is rewarded handsomely for his patience, because once Ryan starts it doesn't look like he has any plans to stop. Sara can't quite see what Ryan is doing to Shane, but she can see perfectly the way Shane sinks into the couch like all of his bones have melted. She sucks her own bottom lip into her mouth when Shane starts squirming, the way his hips twitch every now and then already and put her on the same hair trigger. Sara scoots a little closer, squeezing and rubbing her thighs together, when Ryan moves away from his starting point enough that Sara can see the redness he's leaving on Shane's skin. Shane blinks his eyes open when he registers her presence and shoots her a half-panicked look, all while carefully keeping the position Ryan put him in. Sara smiles reassuringly at him. She has to bite back the urge to run comforting fingers through his hair, momentarily regretting the stipulation they'd established that she not touch either of them until the scene was finished or called off. She hadn't wanted to confuse the experience for them.
"I know, baby." She soothes Shane with her words instead, and is gratified to watch his panic fade into nerves. "I know, it's okay. Let it happen." Ryan pauses at those words, understandably. He lifts up from Shane's neck to check in, tilting Shane's face back up so that he can search it in concern.
"Green," Shane answers preemptively, his voice strangled with want. His hands shake a little when he cups Ryan's jaw, but his kiss when he uses that grip to bring their mouths back together is firm. He may be reeling still, but his hesitation is gone. Ryan's laugh is muffled in Shane's mouth as he kisses back indulgently.
"Lemme see that tongue, boys," Sara urges and this time they both laugh, briefly breaking the kiss. Shane is the one to bring them back together again, tilting his chin and opening his mouth up enough for a view. Ryan shivers and follows Shane's lead, and Sara watches breathlessly as their tongues meet, as their mouths close to suck and then open again, and again, the soft wet noises warm in Sara's ears and down the back of her neck. Shane breaks away with a gasp and shoots Sara another look, this one a little incredulous, a little accusatory, which Sara chooses to interpret as 'Holy shit, is kissing him always like this? A little warning would have been nice.' Sara presses the back of her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at him and he glares, but he can't keep that up for long because Ryan is already going for his throat again.
"You're like a vampire," Shane whines even as he rests a hand heavily on the back of Ryan's neck to keep him there.
"Sor-" Ryan starts, his voice muffled by Shane's skin, and starts to pull away.
"Not a complaint!" Shane and Sara say in unison, although Shane's voice is significantly more urgent and he tacks on in a rush, like he would have preferred not to but couldn't help himself, "Don't stop." Ryan obliges instantly and eagerly, reapplying himself diligently enough to have Shane finally moaning out loud.
"Put some on the other side, too, Ryan," Sara instructs breathlessly. She's literally on the edge of her seat, clinging to the back of the couch for dear life with one hand and the other rubbing up and down her thigh, struggling to decide if she wants to touch herself yet. "Don't leave all that negative space."
"Maybe I was leaving room for you," Ryan tries to banter with her but his voice is too strained, and he can barely keep his mouth off of Shane long enough to say even that.
"That's sweet," Sara says, "but don't worry about me. I can always add my mark on top of yours."
"Fuck," Shane gasps. His body arches under Ryan and Ryan, on instinct, drops his weight onto him to hold him down.
"Oh, you like that, huh?" he breathes, a different kind of tease. "Like the idea of being all covered in my marks for our girlfriend to go back over later, keep 'em fresh?" Shane moans through his teeth and drops his hands to Ryan's hips to hold him tight and pull him in, a counterpart to the movement of his own hips. Ryan moans back, and then blinks, looks down into his lap, as if he's only just realized what he's doing. He leans back from Shane a little, but doesn't try to get up or away. Instead he looks over at Sara. She figures he wants more direction, not quite ready yet to let go of that deniability.
"He does like it," she tells Ryan, conspiratorially. "And you know what else he likes?" Ryan shakes his head, wide-eyed and silent, hanging on her every word. It's adorable, and obvious. "He likes having his nipples played with. You both do. That's why I had it in there, you know. What fun would this be if I didn't get to make you guys hit all of each other's buttons?"
Ryan's hands go to Shane's collar instantly, like he was just waiting for permission. Probably was, subconsciously. He fiddles with the top button, glancing up at Shane's face to make sure first. Shane already looks half-fucked, flushed, disheveled and open-mouthed. His answer is another roll of his hips, a choked please.
Sara didn't know she was so into voyeurism, apparently, but holy shit- She's never had the chance to see the two of them this way, not like this; Ryan rocking in Shane's lap as he works his shaking hands down Shane's body, the tips of Shane's fingers going white with how hard he's digging them into Ryan's side…
When Shane's shirt is fully unbuttoned, Ryan drags it roughly over his shoulders, down his arms to his elbows. He leaves it there because Shane won't let go of him, instead keeping up their tight little rhythm, bringing Ryan in close against him again and again. Shane hisses and lets his head fall back onto the couch with a soft thud when Ryan gets his hands on his bare sides. Sara watches the way Ryan pets Shane with sweeps of his thumbs in the curve of his waist, up over his ribs, and knows viscerally exactly what Shane is feeling. She chews hard on her lip to hold in a whine, and grids helplessly down onto the cushions. The seam of her leggings is a soft ridge through her wet-thin panties; good but not enough.
If Sara or Shane expected Ryan to take the next reasonable step, they're both quickly proven the fools that they were to think so. No, Ryan, like he always does in all things, leaps ahead. He ducks his head down and seals his mouth around Shane's nipple farther from Sara. Sara breathes in sharply, her heart racing, as Shane makes another strangled noise of helpless want through his teeth. His body is bent in a perfect bridge from the back of the couch to Ryan. She couldn't tear her eyes away from them now if her life depended on it.
Ryan slides his hand up Shane's side to hold Shane's chest in his palm, to put his thumb in just the right position to make an unerring nuisance of itself. He doesn't falter at the lack of breast - he hasn't forgotten who Shane is and the shape of him this time. Sara's eyes zero in on his thumb as it maddeningly circles Shane's pebbled nipple, playing with Shane exactly the same way he plays with her, and she can feel his phantom touch on her, a tease that has her squirming in frustration before sticking her own hand up her shirt. Her own hands are not as big, not as patiently relentless, as Ryan's, but even still the squeeze of her breast and the pinch of her nipple has her moaning and thrusting her chest forward instinctively.
Shane is watching her, his eyes so glazed over with arousal that they swim. He's writhing under Ryan's unfaltering ministrations. Sara doesn't blame him one bit. On one hand, she remembers her first time with Ryan, how intense it was just because he's intense. On the other hand she remembers her first-only time with another woman, how exactly the same it had been, how unmistakably different in every way, how familiar and brand new.
"Ryan-!" Shane cries out - Sara bets Ryan bit him, teeth gentle but there. She remembers. She tears off her shirt, licks her fingers, and pinches the same nipple again to mimic the feeling the closest she can.
"Yeah?" Ryan's voice is low and gravelly, the way he gets when he's feeling powerful, and Sara just can't take it anymore. She has to get her hands between her legs right now. She pulls her leggings down and kicks them off, and then tucks her free hand down the front of her panties to brush her middle finger over the slicked up hood of her clit. Shane makes a desperate, breathy little noise that Sara has never actually heard come out of him before and squeezes his eyes shut tight like the sight of her touching herself is just too much when Ryan's mouth is on him at the same time.
Once Shane's eyes are closed, once he's not bombarded from every direction with more sex than he can apparently handle, he finds it within himself to speak (in more than just praise to Ryan's name).
"I can't believe," he chokes out with visible effort, "that it's taken you this long to get your shirt off, Bergara." Ryan laughs breathlessly against Shane's chest, his breath against Shane's wet and sensitized nipple making Shane whine quietly. Ryan, eager to meet with Shane's approval at every turn, tugs his shirt up and off. Sara reaches for it. He glances to her to pass it off, gets momentarily distracted by the sight of her all but naked and rubbing herself off.
"Both of you are behind, actually," Sara gasps, too breathless from the slick slide of her fingers around her clit in tight circles to put any real authority behind her voice. "Pants. Off. Catch up." Both of them scramble to obey her. At first Shane goes for Ryan's pants, but Ryan leaps up like there's a fire under his ass and begins to shimmy his skinny fit jeans down his legs, leaving Shane to fumble with his own belt and fly. Ryan throws himself back over Shane's lap at the earliest possible moment, before Shane's pants are even all the way down, just around his thighs. His bare ass rests on Shane's open zipper. It must be cold compared to body-temp, must pinch at least a little, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just dives back into Shane's mouth, and Shane moans as he squeezes at Ryan's firm arms.
When Ryan deems Shane's lips suitably bitten, he pulls back just enough to look down, and it's only then that he once more freezes in the headlights of the eighteen-wheeler labeled 'YES HOMO' bearing down on him at high speed.
"That's your dick," he says blankly. Sara can only just see the tip over Ryan's thigh, unfortunately. She's seen Shane's dick probably a thousand times before by now, but it's always a treat. She stretches her neck, making a show out of looking, making Shane giggle and blush when he notices.
"Yeah," he confirms. His voice is husky. Sara hopes Ryan absolutely wrecks him, so that it's audible in the morning.
"Wow." Shane laughs nervously, another bashful boyish giggle.
"Good wow!" Ryan assures hurriedly, actually throwing his hands up and shaking them. "It's- uh…"
"It's a dick, Ryan," Shane says, dry as a bone. Normally, Sara is sure that Ryan would shoot him a glare here, half-hearted as it might be. But he's looking again, and he can't seem to pull his eyes away this time.
"It sure is," he murmurs, almost as if to himself. Methodically, he maneuvers Shane's hands off of his arms and onto his thighs instead to free up his range of motion. Then he reaches out, slowly, haltingly, to touch Shane. Sara thanks the coincidence that she's on the left and Ryan is right-handed, so her view isn't any more obstructed by that. She can see the subtle flex of Ryan's strong forearm, the fist he makes just before he strokes down, and on the upstroke the shine of Shane's precome on his fingers. Shane's hands convulse and his nails leave pale shallow scratches down Ryan's thighs. Ryan moans, but the sting - a sting Sara knows from experience he likes very much indeed - doesn't break his concentration.
Sara totters up onto her knees on the couch for a better view and for a better reach, leaving off her clit to pet teasingly at her opening instead because she doesn't want to come yet. Shane is framed beautifully between Ryan's legs, a partially unclothed sexually-awakened mess. Sara admires his full body blush, the familiar sexiness of how his body won't let him hide how he feels. His hands tremble on Ryan's thighs, too dazed with pleasure and the shock of enlightenment to gather up enough initiative to do anything else but cling onto its source.
"Touch him back, Shane," Sara whispers, reminding him what to do. Shane whimpers, but he obeys. He takes Ryan in hand. Ryan is as hard as he's ever been with Sara, and she shivers when his cock visibly hardens further as Shane's long fingers wrap around him. The head is so dusky dark it almost looks like it hurts. Sara is utterly enraptured, watching her boys stroke each other, slowly but surely finding a mutual rhythm. This, for the first time tonight, is something she can only imagine the feel of. Imagine she does, though, with the help of the way Shane can't catch his breath, the way Ryan groans shakily and drops his head onto Shane's shoulder. She's more than wet enough to drive two fingers into herself, to bring an end to her teasing and start to fuck herself shallow but firm.
"Fuck, Shane," Ryan moans into Shane's neck, and finally - finally - that's what does it for him. His breath hitches, a gasp, but of surprise, and he sits up straight to look into Shane's face in shock. Shane meets his eyes from under his lashes, suddenly shy despite not slowing his pace on Ryan's shaft.
"Shane," Ryan breathes, this time in awe. It's reflected on his face, wide-eyed and glowing, the kind of beautiful that aches to behold. Sara can feel her eyes getting as warm and wet as she is down around her fingers. They did it, it worked, and they're in love - they, the three of them, are all so in love.
"Hi," says Shane, nonsensically, still so unaccountably shy, still stroking Ryan's cock like maybe that will make Ryan stop looking at him like that. But he doesn't look away either. Luckily for Shane, Ryan doesn't keep him suffering for long. He bursts suddenly into motion, making both Shane and Sara jump at the abruptness and frenzy of it. He cups both sides of Shane's head and kisses him frantically all over his face.
"Fuck," he says again in between kisses, and "Shane," again and again. And before Shane can make more than the barest, uncoordinated attempt to kiss back, Ryan is on the floor and he's taken Shane's pants the rest of the way down with him.
The two of them make the prettiest picture Sara has ever seen. Ryan, naked as the day he was born, his tan skin shining with a slight sheen of arousal sweat, kneeling on the living room floor with his cock standing up proudly, rosy red and dripping. Shane, with his pants around his ankles and his shirt crumpled at his elbows, so turned on he's shaking with it, his sparse happy trail dark-wet. Sara hums a pleased note low in her throat as she presses in a third finger.
Ryan doesn't slow down when he hits the ground. He goes for Shane's cock like his mouth is magnetized to it, kissing and licking the shaft with sloppy eagerness. Shane yelps like he's been struck, and both hands shoot forward to grab at Ryan's hair.
"Do not block my view, Madej," Sara snaps, barely recognizing her own voice it's so hard and low. Shane makes a high, broken noise in the back of his throat. But he likes what he likes, and what he likes is Sara and Ryan and not being at the top of the social food chain for a change. He releases Ryan's head and puts his arms across the back of the couch instead, curling his fingers into the soft cushions, and Sara knows he won't dare move from that position until somebody gives him permission.
Quickly, too quickly, Ryan is taking Shane's cock fully into his mouth. He sucks firmly, hollowing out his cheeks, and gets Shane babbling desperate nonsense to the top of Ryan's head, to the ceiling, the top of Ryan's head again. Sara can't see Ryan's face, but she can see his determination in the set of his shoulders, and she can see him sink down Shane's length bit by bit, and she can hear the way Shane begs him wordlessly for more- and she can hear him choke, too.
"Slow down, baby," she says. Her tone is half soothing, half still bossy. Ryan shifts just so, so that he can flick his eyes up to look at her without taking his mouth off of Shane. "You don't have to do it all right now. Look at him. He'll want you again." Ryan shifts again to look up at Shane instead, asking with his still-wide eyes for confirmation.
"F-uck," Shane croaks, nodding half desperately and not daring to break Ryan's gaze even to blink, forcing himself not to be shy this time. "Yeah, Ryan. Yes. Yes." Ryan just breathes through his nose for a long moment, but then the frenzied air seems to sink away from him. He blinks slow and cat-like up at Shane before he goes back to sucking, gentler than before. Shane lets his head fall back again, groaning long and low.
"Be polite," Sara scolds preemptively, stopping Shane's hips in their tracks just as they start to roll forward. Shane makes that same broken noise (music to Sara's ears, and Ryan's too judging from his muffled moan) and holds himself perfectly still - except for the trembling he can't control.
Sara focuses in on Ryan then, just listening to Shane, watching closely as Ryan gradually gets comfortable with a hard cock in his mouth and diligently builds a rhythm. Once he's got it, and Sara has picked it up, she matches it with her fingers, thrusting in when Ryan sinks down, stroking out with a gentle pass of her thumb over her clit when he pulls up. When he speeds up a little so does she, and she shudders hard, clenching around her fingers, at the way Ryan groans when Shane calls out his name again.
"Touch yourself," Sara instructs, clenching again when the command alone makes Shane swear and Ryan whimper around his length. Ryan's rhythm falters when he obeys her without question, but he figures out how to multitask it in short order. The sight of his arm moving in that distinctive dirty way adds tenfold to the already perfect picture of them. Ryan pulls himself closer and closer, beginning to shake just as much as Shane. It's every movement of her hand that Sara gives another stroke to her clit now; if they're close she wants to be close too, and with all they have on offer for her it's only the work of moments to get her there with them. To get her shaking too. She can barely hold herself up on her knees like this anymore. Fortunately, she's not under the same restrictions as Shane and she can move around however she likes. She lets herself fall forward to lean her weight on her other hand. It brings her face in dangerously close to Shane's lap. His breath hitches at the imagined tickle of her hair.
"Can I-" Shane starts, voice gone just a little hoarse. But then Ryan does something that makes him cut himself off with a gutteral noise. When Sara checks, his arms are visibly trembling with the effort of staying put. "Correction," he groans. He barely manages to get the words out through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna, if you don't stop right now." Ryan pauses, goes still, but he doesn't pull off. He keeps the majority of Shane's cock held warm in his mouth to think about it. He makes just the tiniest, softest little hum of consideration, and Shane shakes. He looks like he's about to shatter into pieces, he's so fucking close and trying so hard not to come in Ryan's mouth before Ryan decides if he wants it. Ryan pulls off slow - torturously so, if the noise Shane makes is any indication - like he's still not totally sure what his choice is gonna be.
"On-" He coughs; his voice is wrecked. "On my face?"
"Hnngk," says Shane, and Ryan and Sara both laugh at him without enough breath to make any real noise. Ryan wipes his mouth on the inside of Shane's thigh, and Shane doesn't even complain, doesn't even make a face, is too far gone for that kind of play right now. Ryan gets his left hand around Shane's cock, leaving his right to the work it's already doing on himself.
"Well, c'mon, big guy," he says, his tone incongruously sweet. It's not a choice this time, for Shane to obey, but he follows the command perfectly all the same. He makes another garbled noise that was probably supposed to be Ryan's name, and he lifts up off of the couch with the kind of grace he never otherwise has. The first splash of come makes a stripe across the bridge of Ryan's nose, more landing on his cheek and over his bottom lip. Ryan strokes Shane through it until Shane collapses, utterly boneless.
Sara roves her eyes hungrily over the sticky, dripping mess of Ryan's face as she redoubles her efforts on herself. Ryan's eyes flutter shut, his come-smeared mouth hanging open, and Sara knows he's doing the same. She lets out all the gasps and moans she's been holding in all this time so that she could hear them with each other instead, driving herself higher and higher, tighter, closer, relentlessly. Ryan's eyes open just in time to watch her as Sara finally comes, falling down onto her elbow as the pleasure wracks her body. As soon as she can move again, Sara pulls her hand out from her soaked-through panties. She doesn't think about it, just reaches forward and wipes her slick fingers on Ryan's one dry cheek.
"Fuck!" Ryan swears roughly as he comes, remembering at the last second to catch his spend in his other hand so it doesn't ruin the carpet. He sits back on his heels and shudders through it, groaning the whole way. He's so loud, the only reason Sara knows that Shane was affected by what she did and by the show Ryan is inadvertently putting on for them is that she can feel him move by the shift in the couch cushion underneath her. Ryan collapses when he's done too, falling onto his back on the floor. He's fucking filthy, with Shane's and Sara's come all over his face and his own on both hands and leaking onto his belly.
Into the relative quiet, the scent of sex thick and heavy around them, Sara breathes, "God, I can't wait to watch you take that cock." Both Shane and Ryan groan softly.
"Which one of us?" Shane asks, while Ryan grabs the closest shirt within reach and starts to wipe come off of himself.
Sara grins at Shane's little call-back. She knows he did that on purpose, just as she knows he doesn't need her to tell him that the answer is (again, still, always) both of them.