Chapter Text
Courtland Gentry prides himself on being observant. It’s saved his life more often than not, and the lives of the people around him. He can sense a threat coming before anyone else gets a whiff of danger, he's quick to react and handle any scenario thrown at him. It's how he's survived for this long doing what he does for a living, working with the kinds of people he deals with. Safe to say, the happenings in his home are well within Court’s domain of knowledge.
So when Ryland and Colt start sneaking (or at least they think they're sneaking) around behind his back, it doesn't take Courtland long to figure out what they're up to. Now, he could make excuses for it, could try and downplay it, but what would be the point in that? He knows it, they know it, might as well be upfront with it.
His brothers are fucking. To be specific, his younger twin brothers are fucking. Each other, that is. And honestly, Court wishes he could be surprised about it. Because he's not, deep down. Colt and Ryland were always close, closer than they ever were to him. And that was okay with Court, really. They loved him in a different way than they loved each other, and Court loved them just the same. And maybe it wasn't the healthiest of relationships, but really, Court couldn't blame them. Their childhood was…traumatic to say the least, and it was easy to find comfort in the one person who understood, the one person who lived it alongside you. So no, Court can't say he really faults his brothers for the…nature of their relationship.
What he can fault them for, however, is how incredibly fucking obvious they're being. Ryland’s neck looks like he’s been attacked, skin littered with various shades of purple and red. If Colt doesn’t let up at some point, Ryland will have to start wearing a scarf to class. At least Ryland is discreet when marking his territory, leaving marks under Colt’s clothes, not that Colt tries very hard to hide the marks, at least not from Courtland. But that’s not even the worst of it, no. The worst of it, Courtland thinks, is the effect it’s having on him. To put it bluntly, Colt and Ryland are loud. Well, it’s mostly Ryland who’s loud, his little ah ah ah’s and cries of Colt’s name audible through the halls. Colt is quieter most of the time, but Court can hear his groans of pleasure, the cry of Ryland’s name when he cums inside of him, can imagine the way Ryland’s pretty cunt tightens around him all too clearly.
Court can’t stop imagining it, actually. If he’s going to overlook the nature of their relationship, he should at least have the fucking decency not to be such a voyeur about it. But he doesn’t. Not only does he listen to it and imagine it, but he gets off on it, on hearing all the sweet little noises Colt manages to pull out of Ryland. A part of Courtland can’t help but wonder if they know, if that’s why Colt insists on marking Ryland so thoroughly, as if he thinks Court would butt in, try to take Ryland from him. He won’t, of course, but not out of any misguided sense of altruism or some fucking upstanding moral fiber. It’s just that Court is just as fucked up as the two of them, if nor moreso.
It wouldn’t be enough if he had Ryland or Colt. Courtland wants them both, loves them both in the same way they love each other. And the shame of it is almost enough to keep him from doing anything about it.
Almost enough, he thinks, because tonight is just like any other. Court lays awake in his bed, listening to the sound of the mattress dipping between Colt and Ryland’s weight, ears burning at the sound of the soft sigh Ryland makes, and Court feels his cock twitch in his pants, already painfully hard. His eyes close, trying to envision what Ryland would look like underneath him, skin flushed and tears in the corners of his eyes. He wondered what kinds of sounds he’d get out of Ryland, if it’d be all soft sighs and shy whimpers like this, if he’d shudder as Court presses his teeth against a healing mark on his neck, or maybe he’d leave new ones. On the other side of the wall, Ryland moans lowly, the sound going straight through him as he pulls his pants and boxers out of the way just enough to free his cock, wrapping his hand around it with a hiss. The little punched-out sounds Ryland makes combined with a long groan from Colt have Courtland sinking his teeth into his lip until he tastes blood. He jerks himself off to the rhythm of Ryland’s cries, hearing his brother’s voice pitch up as Colt fucks him harder, imagining himself in Colt’s place as he hears oh fuck Colt, like that, right there from the otherside of the wall followed by so good for me baby, take my cock so well.
He imagines what it would feel like, Ryland’s wet cunt clenching around him, sucking him in. Maybe he’d have Ryland on top of him, gripping his hips and watching his little brother writhe on top of him. Maybe he’ll praise him just like Colt does, tell him how pretty he is like this, watching Ryland fuck himself on Court’s cock. His eyes tighten as Court suppresses another groan of Ryand’s name, hips bucking up into his hand. He can almost imagine Ryland’s face, flush crawling along his cheeks and down his neck, skin littered with bite marks and bruises from his hands, tears in his eyes, fucked out and pliant, his pretty pussy absolutely dripping.
Ryland’s voice gets shakier and higher as Colt fucks him, and it’s the cry of shit — fuck - I can’t - ohmyGod - and the near wail afterwards that’s enough to send Court over the edge, spilling into his hand with a hiss alongside Ryland. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Courtland listens to the little whimpers of Ryland begging Colt to cum inside him and the low, stuttering groan that follows as Colt gives Ryland exactly what he wants. Distantly, Court wonders if he could get more sounds out of Colt, if Colt would let him fuck him the same way he does Ryland. Once he’s caught his breath, Court looks down at the mess he made of his hand and boxers, sighing to himself.
He’s going to hell for sure for this.
“You think he’s getting off to us?” Colt whispers, only audible to Ryland between the sounds of his moans and the creaking bedframe. In response, Ryland only whimpers, cunt clenching around his brother’s cock at the idea. It was Colt who noticed the signs first, that Court wouldn’t look at either of them for too long, that he eyed the marks left on Ryland’s neck far longer than he should’ve. Ryland whines in response, both to Colt’s question and to a particularly sharp thrust of Colt’s hips, jostling his glasses. Colt’s fingers dig bruises into his hips, dragging Ryland down against his cock to press it that much further inside him. His legs are already shaking from his first orgasm, which clearly isn't the only one Colt is letting him off with tonight.
He hopes Court is listening, and by the sound of his voice, Colt clearly knows something he doesn't. The marks on his neck are still sore, mottling his neck purple. He's felt the heat of Court’s eyes on him, turning his skin pink over breakfast. “Think about it, Ry. Both of us fucking you like this.” And God if that isn't a turn on, sending a shiver down Ryland’s spine and making more slick gush between him and Colt.
“Oh, o-oh, Colt, please -” Ryland can't hide the fact that the idea of their older brother was not only listening to Colt fuck his brains out, but getting off to them fucking turns him on, cunt clenching around his twin’s cock as Colt’s thumb presses down on his clit, rubbing at it as Ryland’s hips lose their rhythm against him. He's half sobbing as he cums again, letting Colt fuck him through the aftershocks as he whimpers, muttering oh baby, so good for me, look so pretty like this. It's not long before Colt’s hips stutter again, and Ryland whines at the rush of heat that fills him, curling over to press his head to Colt’s shoulder. The room is filled with heavy breathing as they both come down, and Colt’s arms wrap loosely around his twin’s waist, holding him close. Slowly, he eases Ryland onto his side, pulling his softening cock out with a slight hiss. Colt cards a hand through Ryland’s hair, grounding him slightly as he finds his voice.
“You think he’d want to?” Him and Colt had been together like this for the past few years before they found Court again, and although their brother hadn’t yet said anything, Ryland knew they weren’t subtle. Usually they were more careful, Colt wouldn’t have so much as looked at him for too long if he thought Court would be angry. But a part of Ryland, perhaps deep down, knew that Court would understand. They were family, and they understood each other like no one else possibly could. And Colt was clearly trying to get some kind of reaction out of Court; he knew better than to leave so many marks where they could be seen, where anyone could make any untoward assumptions about their relationship. But Courtland knew, or at least Ryland figured he did. Why hadn’t he done something yet?
“Pretty sure he thinks he’d be intruding or something.” Colt’s voice, a low rumble against his shoulder now, lets Ryland know he’s been saying this out loud, and his twin chuckles against his skin. Ryland pouts, swatting at his brother’s arm lightly as his face turns redder from the embarrassment. But more than anything, the two of them know how untrue that idea is, as if there hasn’t been a space for him all along, as if that wasn’t what they were hoping for. Court was their brother, the one who protected them as kids. There was no way they’d want to exclude him, that much they’d agreed on from the start. It was just a matter of making him understand that. Ryland sighs, pressing his face into the crook of Colt’s neck, hiding the grimace that crosses his face at the sticky feeling of his skin. It's almost routine at this point, and before he's said anything, Colt is already tugging his boxers back on, grabbing a warm washcloth to wipe him down with.
“We should just…talk to him. He’ll understand. He was there.” By there, of course, Ryland means in the house where they grew up, getting hurt right alongside the two of them. They don't talk about it much, probably haven't since they found each other, and only enough to confirm that it was real, that it happened and they didn't imagine each other or Court. But it was different this time, Court was the one who protected them from some of the worst of it, he went to prison for them. He made sure they could have a life. If he wanted them, what they had, neither of them would say no. Colt hums in agreement, settling back on the bed next to Ryland, who eagerly slots himself against his twin’s side.
“I’ll talk to him, Ry. You worry about your kids.” Content with that, Ryland hums, relaxing as Colt’s arm is thrown over his waist, pulling him closer.