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Now and again, there are nights where the world is tuned out by the three. Voices meld in with each other, commotion fits into the background.
Those nights, all that Skipp, Stone, and Vinnie can focus on are each other.
This night was one of those nights, and it had been preceded by a rather casual day. There had been a successful food heist, a lack of being hunted by the wealthy who have nothing better to do, and an unmistakable tension in the air.
When the trio returned from their final escapade of the day, the sun was nearly set. It was not quite too warm, and that suspense hanging between every word was finally showing in more than teasing and stolen glances. It was strong today.
And as they are returning, Skipp seems to develop a lick of impatience, as when they are hidden from the public’s eye by a wall, he finds himself seeking out Stone’s touch. There is a silent permission given, and Skipp is tilting his head up to meet Stone in a kiss. His hand reaches to hold Stone’s waist.
Vinnie only notices a few beats later, likely smirking to herself before setting her things down near their makeshift tent. She watches for a moment. Skipp is slipping his tongue into Stone’s mouth. He tastes like cigarettes. Stone is backed against a wall, and a soft sound leaves him. Vinnie swallows hard.
Skipp rolls his hips forward, and Vinnie decides she can’t just watch anymore. Stone matches Skipp’s grinding, and they move in a shaky unison. Vinnie comes up behind Skipp, pressing her body against his. Her warm hands slip beneath his shirt, grasping at skin. Skipp hums, pulling away from Stone briefly to lean into her touch. Stone grabs Skipp’s hips and grinds against him harder. The friction goes from barely enough to not enough, and Stone is longing for more. Vinnie’s calloused fingers splay across Skipp’s chest. She presses a kiss to the side of his head.
He’s grinning, and Stone kisses the smile from his face, grinding feverishly against him. Vinnie does the same on the other side of Skipp, and continues to run her hands across his body. It’s quiet, the world tuned out, and only the scrape of shoes on the ground accompanies their noise.
———————
At first, only two tuned out the world. They tuned it out to escape the hatred that the people seemed to hold for them, they drowned it out to support each other through that hatred.
Vinnie often didn’t take things personally, but now and again things would go very poorly, and the awful ache of disappointment in herself and the world she existed in would get to her.
Skipp offered what positivity and optimism he could. By playing something for her, by telling dumb stories from his past, by just talking about nothing. Sometimes just his company would be helpful. It seemed to pull Vinnie out of any mental pit that society dug for her.
On the other hand, Skipp felt drained some days. Vinnie would steal things for him, offer a shoulder to cry, rest, or just lean on—in the literal sense. She never tried to force him into being positive again, she’d instead help restore some energy to him.
They’d tune out the world entirely for each other. Each time, it’d get easier.
———————
Vinnie has encouraged the other two to their homemade space, they’ve shut their tent and they’ve settled onto their handsewn quilt.
Stone has encouraged her onto his lap, but somewhere along the way, she got caught up kissing Skipp. She faces him, Stone technically behind her. She grinds down against him though, legs on either side of one of his thin thighs. He reaches around, cool hands grasping at her. Her hands are busy removing Skipp’s beanie and scarf, tossing them to the far side.
Skipp parts from her only to shuffle off his jacket, also throwing it away. Their tongues slide against each other. Stone encourages Vinnie to grind against him more. She does. Stone sighs, letting his head fall back slightly. He undoes her belt blindly, setting it aside.
Stone focuses on her soft pants, and Skipp loves to swallow them as he kisses her. They tune out the footsteps on the streets that feel so far away.
———————
Stone didn’t get it, not at first. He didn’t understand how Vinnie and Skipp could simply ignore everything for each other. He doubted their care for him. He doubted a lot.
But on nights where he felt vulnerable, nobody truly judged him. He learned how easy it was to do the same for them. Some nights he’d get shit-faced more than usual and end up breaking down over his sister, his mom—nobody pried, and nobody did anything malicious.
They just listened. Or sat there, or talked until he forgot for a while. And that was nice, it was nicer than anyone had ever been to him. The first time it happened, he’d felt stupid. He still feels stupid sometimes. But they don’t worsen that.
He doesn’t make them feel stupid in those vulnerable moments either. That reciprocation lit a warmth in him that wasn’t akin to much he’d felt before; he treasured that feeling.
———————
At some point, someone tugged Vinnie’s shirt off. She doesn’t mind the exposure, or the stares from the other two. Her boots are kicked off, Skipp helps her out of her shorts; eventually, after a rather desperate round of undressing, she’s exposed nearly entirely—save for her socks.
She leans back against Stone, who runs his hands along her body. Skipp moves forward slowly, kissing along her stomach. His hand hovers near her sex, though it lands on her thigh. His thumb runs up and down, teasing. Vinnie huffs, but Stone kisses her quiet. Her hand reaches up and her fingers tangle in his dark hair.
Skipp moves down, leaving hickeys on her thighs. He eventually presses his palm against Vinnie’s clit. She’s dripping wet, and her hips lift at the touch. He rocks his hand against her cunt, causing her breath to hitch. Stone swallows the soft sounds that slip from her. Pleasure crawls up through her veins.
Skipp removes his hand only to reposition it, and now begins to drag his thumb around her clit in slow circles. One finger slips into her soaked core, and she separates from Stone to take in a sharp breath. Stone holds her head, and takes in the sight before him. He thoughtlessly squeezes his thighs together.
Stone meets Vinnie in an open mouthed kiss. Her tongue slips inside his mouth. It’s messy. Skipp thrusts his finger in and out, but he doesn’t wait long to add a second. Vinnie is grinding her hips down with the rhythm of his hand. Her hand tugs at Stone’s hair; he whimpers slightly.
Vinnie’s back arches when Skipp curls his fingers with a certain thrust, and then again, and he begins brushing that perfect spot with every movement. He’s using all of his willpower to keep himself still, he’s painfully hard at this point. It’s a lovely sight before him. He rubs Vinnie’s clit with talented fingers, and she grips Stone’s hair tighter. Stone takes over the kiss, licking into her mouth, sliding his tongue along her teeth, massaging it against hers.
Skipp’s hand is moving faster, Vinnie is pleading, and Stone muffles the loud sound that escapes her when she comes. Electricity buzzes in her system; her heart hammers in her ears. Her hand grips Stone’s hair painfully hard. Skipp’s movements slow. Her head rests in Stone’s lap—he bites his lip.
She spends a moment catching her breath, giving Skipp the okay to remove his fingers. He uses a clean rag of sorts to clean up the area, his hand, and her. Her hand leaves Stone’s hair, and Stone slightly moves his hand to tangle in hers. Slim fingers fidget with brown strands.
After a moment’s recovery, she sits, sitting beside him and assisting in the removal of his jacket, and then his shirt. His necklace stays on, cold against his skin. He barely registers Skipp crawling atop him and unbuckling his belt. He resists a smile. His jeans are tugged down, and Skipp’s hand palms at his hard-on. His hips involuntarily buck into the touch. Vinnie kisses his shoulders, then his neck, and leaves marks along his pale skin.
Skipp gives him barely enough stimulation to keep him sane, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Stone swallows hard. His boxers are pulled down, and before he can process the exposed feeling that brings him, Skipp’s warm mouth takes in the head of his cock. Stone’s hand carefully rests in golden locks.
He lets out a shaky breath; Skipp hollows his cheeks and begins to take in Stone’s length. It’s about average, and Skipp has done this before—so he does it well. Stone lets his head fall back, ever-so-slightly guiding Skipp up and down. Vinnie drags her lips across Stone’s sensitive neck, leaving bruises and small marks as she nips at his skin. He leans into it.
Skipp bobs up and down, hands grasping Stone’s thighs. The boy moans when Skipp licks a stripe up his dick. Skipp picks up the pace, lips dragging perfectly, feeding on every soft praise he earns. His tongue swirls around with sensual precision. Stone lets out a ragged moan, mouth open as he breathes hard. Heat pools within him, and he’s barely been holding himself together this whole time—so it doesn’t take long for him to go over the edge.
The world halts, and the floor seems to go out beneath him—but Vinnie is holding him, so it doesn’t quite feel like he’s falling. She mutters a praise of sorts, pressing her lips to his temple. It takes a minute for the static to dissipate from his head, and for the Earth to keep spinning. Skipp leans up, softly kissing him; he can taste himself. He can feel Vinnie’s eyes on him, he can feel Skipp’s lips on his, and it’s like there’s nothing else happening in the world.
———————
It wasn’t rare for the three to end up in a pile after a long day. They did all sleep together, after all. But some days were different, to start, some days they’d end up cuddled together—legs tangled, or backs pressed against each other, or maybe in a pile of sorts. Sometimes it was intentional, and usually nobody ever talked about it, the boundaries of it, or anything else. Nobody felt that they had to. It simply occurred with a nod, or a hum, or complete silence.
Skipp and Vinnie had been quietly aware of the feelings that lingered in the air. They’d never spoken about it, never tried. And when Stone joined both the trio and that mess of feelings, things only felt more complicated. So everyone avoided making them complicated.
But one of those days, one day that usually would end with someone stroking the others hair, or Stone allowing more than the usual hug, things wordlessly escalated.
One of them kissed the other, then the other, and there was a wordless confession between all three within the hour. Soon, it was like none of them could take their hands off one another. Like all the pent up, quiet feelings could be communicated through each kiss, each grasp, each satisfied sigh.
And for the most part, that was true.
The world outside their shared tent fizzled away completely.
———————
Skipp is kissing Vinnie heatedly; Stone is watching. Skipp is grabbing at her thighs, her waist, her hips. He’s running his tongue along hers, he’s grinding against anything he can. She’s enjoying it.
Stone is enjoying watching. He’s touching himself, hardening once more. He looks on, enamoured. Soon, he finds himself wanting in on it. So he gets in on it. The three of them share messy kisses, until Skipp is pushed down onto his back and helped out of his bottoms. Stone sits above him, thigh between Skipp’s. He gets handsy, feeling Skipp up, groping at his erection—but Vinnie ushers his hand away.
She frees Skipp’s dick, and presses his and Stone’s together. She begins to stroke both of their cocks together. Stone whimpers, still slightly sensitive. Skipp lets his head fall back, loud noises escaping him. Vinnie relishes in how vocal he gets every time.
Stone begins to lightly thrust into Vinnie’s strokes, adding to the friction Skipp is experiencing. The following while is a blur, as Vinnie goes faster, Skipp gets louder, and Stone gets only more desperate. Skipp eventually covers his mouth with his hand, sputtering out both Vinnie and Stone’s name. He paints his own stomach as well as Stone’s dick in come. Vinnie doesn’t stop her movements.
Mere seconds pass. When Stone nears the edge, he whines out a curse. His head falls, messy dark hair falling over his face. Skipp whines from overstimulation as Stone continues thrusting against Skipp’s cock and into Vinnie’s hand until he reaches climax. His fingers dig into the quilt below him as he comes for the second time that night. Vinnie is smiling to herself.
The world around the three folds into itself, seemingly nonexistent in the moment, the moments after, and the rest of the night. Love and the sweet reward that it is seeps into their own small world with only each other.