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The second Oluwande steps through the door, Archie is closing it behind him.
“Hey— Oh,” he exhales, Jim already slipping forward into him, their hands sliding behind his back to trace up under his shirt, finding bare skin in palmfuls. “Hi, hi—”
“I missed you so much,” Jim tells him. Their voice is practically a rumble in his ear; he can feel it inside their chest, pressed so close to his—
—and can especially feel it when Archie shifts into place behind him, her hands joining Jim’s to push Oluwande’s shirt up and over his head, exposing his chest, his belly, his back, his shoulders, in slips of fabric until the entire thing is gone.
“I missed you, too,” he replies, breathless.
“Is this okay?” Archie asks in his other ear. “I just…”
Her lips find his throat, and their fingertips trace around the dips of his hips to lap up over his belly towards his chest, seeking his nipples. She finds what she’s looking for, and they give just the slightest pressure, and Oluwande inhales sharply, the points of pleasure shooting directly down to the root of his cock.
“Jim’s told me so much about you,” she says. “I want to get to know you, too. For myself, I mean.”
In front of him, Jim is folding down onto their knees, unwinding the knot of Oluwande’s belt so they can get at his pants, tugging them down towards his knees and further, puddling at his ankles.
“If that’s alright with you?” Archie adds on, half a question and half a statement, and Oluwande nods in a jerk.
“That’s— Yeah, of course, alright, that’s alright,” he rushes to get out. Her arms feel fucking strong, muscular where they wrap around him before their fingertips pinch his fucking nipples, and he moans aloud, a ripped-out and wanton sound. “Oh, God— Yeah, that’s fine— Fine, that’s perfect, good, good then—”
Jim rises up in one sinuous movement, lifting to their feet so they can drag their hands along either side of Oluwande’s head. Cradling his face in their palms, they lean in and silence him with a kiss, swallowing the next tear of a groan that shreds out of him.
Archie takes up their work, coaxing Oluwande out of his pants properly, tossing them aside. She’s still dressed— so is Jim— but they’ve quickly stripped him of his clothes, guiding him backwards towards their shared bed.
It’s like he never left—
—sort of.
Jim is familiar, but different, in those little ways that he’s sure he’s familiar-but-different. Archie is all different— but familiar in Jim-ways, in that she kisses nearly like Jim does, when she guides his lips to theirs, and their hands are purposeful in a similar way to Jim’s, and the breathy little noises they’re making are quite a bit like Jim’s.
“Sorry,” Jim tells him, pushing him down flat on his back in bed, not sounding very sorry at all. “Just missed you, I guess.”
Oluwande looks to them, finds their dark eyes spearing through him, and— just— fuck, he’s missed them, missed them to his core, and getting to be with them again makes something restless and gnawing and hungry inside him finally settle down.
Of course, he’s hungry in a different way, but that’s easily satisfied.
“Don’t be sorry,” Oluwande insists. He reaches up, catches their chin in his hand, meets their eyes again when they glance away. “Hey. Don’t be sorry, really. I’ve missed you, too. Like— A fucking lot, I’ve missed you. Actually.”
Jim smiles then, and Oluwande thinks there is precious little— if anything— he would not do to see them smile.
“Yeah?” they ask, climbing on top of him to straddle his waist. “How much—”
“Hey, can you lift up, please?” Archie asks behind Jim. When Jim shifts, Oluwande is able to catch a glimpse of Archie on her hands and knees in bed, eyes expectant, waiting, burning up into Jim’s face. There’s a humored smile on their pretty mouth when she asks, “I want to eat his ass but your ass is in my way.”
Oluwande practically chokes, and nearly does when Jim does as asked with a roll of their eyes and a huffed laugh, shifting further upwards.
“Much better,” Archie decides, definitive, her hands tracing along the insides of Oluwande’s thick thighs, dragging nearer to his hole. His cock is impossibly hard, throbbing and curved towards his belly; Archie ignores it and his balls, dipping their head to move directly for his ass, using their fingertips to spread his cheeks so they can lick right over his hole with the broad flat of her tongue.
“Oh— fuck,” Oluwande bites out. “Shit, fucking— God—”
“Good work,” Jim praises Archie backwards. They’re still fucking dressed, shitting fuck, and they hold themselves carefully when they bring their body down. Jim’s knees are planted firmly on either side of Oluwande’s waist, leather-clad; their boots dig into the mattress; their clothed cunt glides over his hard cock, and they sigh, a rough noise that makes Oluwande’s cockhead pulse precum in a dribble down to his belly. “Shit. I really did fucking miss you.”
“I missed you,” Oluwande chokes up, throat thick. “God— Jim—”
“Yeah,” they breathe, grinding their clothed cunt along his cock while Archie’s tongue slips inside his asshole, and he whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers, a sound he’s not sure he’s ever made before. “Me, too.”
Jim finds a steady rhythm, rolling their hips practically in time with the way Archie is sloppily eating her way into his asshole, and he grips the sheets tight in his fists. He thought they might never see each other again, and somehow he’s gotten lucky enough to have Jim back— to have Jim back and more, to have Archie, too, and he can’t believe he can have them.
“I missed you so much,” Oluwande repeats, unable to stop himself. “God, I’ve missed you, Jim— I don’t want you to leave again, don’t— Don’t leave again—”
“Shh,” Jim quiets him, running a hand up over his cheek, stroking their thumb under his eye. “Can’t take me away from you that easy.”
Oluwande’s hips buck; Archie grips his thighs, lures him back down, their fingers slipping in with her tongue to work him open, wet and messy and God, their fingers are long, searching inside him.
When she finds his prostate, stroking the nerves inside him, he cries out, wordless. Jim pins his hips, holds him down, doesn’t let him move too much; they manage to keep him still enough to rub up against him, shifting so they’re rutting against his thigh, taking his cock in their hand instead, holding it between their bodies to fuck.
Oluwande loses track of limbs, a mess of extremities and intimacy that results in his cock getting fucked in the circle of a wet fist against an expanse of hot skin, his asshole getting eaten out alongside a couple of stroking fingers, his lips being claimed in a kiss while his eyes are closed that has him dissolving into pure sensation, blissful haze, his cock throbbing in fingers that belong to Jim, and Archie, and himself, nebulous somehow, overwhelming after so long without.
He’s shivering when Jim’s fingertips trace over his balls, their body twisting so they can keep grinding into him while they fuck his cock and fondle his fucking balls, and he bites out, “Please— Please—”
Archie’s fingertips stroke the nerves in him again, and his words explode into sounds alone, incoherent and pleased. His cock throbs in Jim’s hand, and he can feel heat flowing through him, gathering tight in the pit of his stomach, the base of his cock; his heartbeat is racing, throbbing in time with his dick, and he swears to God, he’s shivering, so overstimulated he could cry.
“He’s going to cum,” Jim says above his head. “Archie—”
Archie makes a muffled noise, buried in Oluwande’s ass, and it’s almost too fucking much—
—and then it is too fucking much, between the vibration and her tongue and her fingers and Jim’s rutting and their fist and his cock and his balls, fucking shit, it’s just too fucking much, and Oluwande’s cumming all over himself— and Jim, and Archie— a beat later, making a fucking mess out of the three of them.
He’s not sure the last time he came like this. It was probably the last time he had sex with Jim, in all honesty, when they fucked him with the strap-on cock they had hidden in their things.
He wonders if they might still have that cock. He wonders if there’s still time tonight to use it, potentially.
It’s been a long fucking time, after all—
—and he’s never gotten a chance with Archie before now.
His mind is filled with them, the two of them, bringing him the emotional clarity that only seems to cum just after he’s had a proper orgasm, and he says, “God, I think I could fucking love you,” before he can stop himself.
Lucky for him, Jim just huffs a noise above him, still chasing their release on his thigh. “Good.”
“Lovely,” Archie agrees, climbing up beside him to slip their hand between Jim’s body and Oluwande’s, their fingertips finding Jim’s clit. Jim jolts at the touch before their hand snaps out, cupping Archie’s cunt over their clothes, allowing her to grind into the heel of their palm, providing the same friction they’re giving them. “Oh, lovely. That’s it, right there, yes, lovely, thank you, thank you—”
Oluwande just stares, fixed upwards on the sight above him as Jim and Archie work themselves into near-simultaneous orgasms on top of him, hands tucked into one another and Oluwande’s body pressed beneath and between them. He watches the expressions on their faces, the bliss that twitches through them, the rush of passion that their together-orgasm brings.
He accepts them both, too, when they collapse on top of him, into him, practically dissolving to melt into his body. It’s better than every second he’s had to spend sleeping alone these last weeks— or, not alone, but not with them.
Both of them, now, and his heart thud-thud-thuds rapidly in his chest at the sheer luck, the joy, the contentment he feels, getting to have all of this— all of them.
“Missed you,” Jim murmurs, buried in him, tucked into his side.
Archie kisses Oluwande’s cheek. He can’t help but smile.
“Happy to be back here,” he tells them, compressed between them, and lets himself dissolve into them in return.