WARNING: Mature Content
I've imagined this moment a thousand times.
More than a thousand, probably. Since I was a kid meeting Cecil for the first time and not understanding the pull I felt toward him. Through all the years of friendship and longing and not knowing how to bridge that gap. Through the recent weeks of falling deeper and deeper in love with him while trying desperately to be patient.
But nothing I imagined comes close to this.
To Cecil beneath us, flushed and breathless and wanting.
To Dylan on his other side, finally letting go of all that careful control that he built around himself like armor.
To all three of us together, exactly where we're supposed to be.
Cecil makes a soft sound as Dylan kisses along his neck, and my hand tightens involuntarily on his hip.
"Keith?" Cecil's voice is breathless. "You okay?"
"I'm—" I have to stop and clear my throat. "Yeah. I'm perfect. This is perfect."
Dylan pulls back slightly, looking at me with knowing eyes. "Overwhelmed?"
"Maybe a little."
"Good overwhelmed?" Cecil asks, and there's uncertainty in his voice that makes me immediately focus.
"The best overwhelmed," I assure him, leaning down to kiss him softly. "I just—I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. And now it's actually happening and my brain is having trouble keeping up."
Cecil's expression softens. "I know what you mean."
"Yeah?" I brush my thumb along his cheekbone. "You've been thinking about this too?"
His face goes even redder. "Maybe. A lot. Especially after—" He stops, looking embarrassed.
"After what?" Dylan prompts gently.
"After that night when you both kissed me and called me beautiful and baby and I—" Cecil covers his face with his hands. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
Something possessive and pleased settles in my chest.
"Good," Dylan says, his voice low. "You should think about it. About us. About this."
I gently pull Cecil's hands away from his face. "Don't hide from us, beautiful. We want to see you."
"I'm embarrassed," Cecil mumbles.
"Why?"
"Because I—" He takes a breath. "This is my first time. With anyone. And you both probably have so much more experience and I don't know what I'm doing and—"
He stops because I've gone completely still.
First time.
We're Cecil's first.
His only.
The thought makes something fierce and possessive roar to life in my chest, but also something tender and protective.
We have to be careful. Have to make this good for him. Have to make sure he feels safe and cherished and—
"Keith, you're blushing," Dylan observes, amused.
I am. I can feel the heat in my face.
"It's just—" I look at Cecil. "That's—you've never—"
"Never," Cecil confirms quietly. "Is that... is that okay?"
"Is it okay?" I repeat, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "Cecil, that's—" I don't know how to put into words what that means to me. To us.
Dylan saves me. "Don't worry, baby," he says, his hand cupping Cecil's face. "We'll make you enjoy it so much you'll forget about being nervous completely."
The confidence in his voice makes Cecil shiver.
"Promise?" Cecil asks softly.
"Promise," Dylan and I say in unison.
I lean down to kiss him again, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into it—the love, the want, the desperate need to make this perfect for him.
When I pull back, Cecil's eyes are dark and his breathing is uneven.
"We need to be careful," I say, looking at Dylan. "Extra careful."
"I know," Dylan says, but there's heat in his eyes that mirrors what I'm feeling. "We will be."
Cecil makes a frustrated sound. "I'm not going to break. The powers—Nalani explained it to me. My body is different now. More resilient. Like—" He stops, clearly embarrassed again.
"Like an Omega," Dylan finishes gently. "Without the heats or pheromones."
"Yeah." Cecil won't meet our eyes. "So I can—you don't have to be too worried about—"
"We're still going to be careful," I interrupt firmly. "Powers or not, this is your first time. We're going to make sure it's good for you."
"The best," Dylan adds. "We're going to take care of you, baby. Every step of the way."
Cecil looks between us, and something in his expression shifts—trust mixing with want mixing with something that looks like relief.
"Okay," he whispers. "Okay. I trust you."
Those three words—I trust you—hit me harder than anything else could have.
He trusts us.
With this. With his first time. With his body and his heart and everything he is.
I kiss him again, slower this time, more deliberate. My hand slides down his chest, his stomach, lower—
Cecil gasps against my mouth.
"Still good?" I murmur.
"Yes," he breathes. "Don't stop."
Dylan's hands are working on the button of Cecil's jeans, and I pull back to watch as he slides them down, taking Cecil's underwear with them.
Cecil tries to cover himself, his hands moving automatically.
"Don't," Dylan says gently, catching his wrists. "Let us see you, baby. All of you."
Cecil's face is burning red but he lets Dylan guide his hands away, lets us look.
And god, he's beautiful.
Perfect.
Ours.
I'm still mostly dressed and that suddenly feels wrong. I pull back just enough to shed my jeans, and Dylan does the same.
Cecil's eyes go wide, darting between us.
"I—" he starts, then stops, clearly overwhelmed.
"What is it, beautiful?" I ask, settling back beside him.
"You're both—" He can't seem to finish the sentence.
Dylan smirks. "Use your words, baby."
"Perfect," Cecil finally manages. "You're both perfect and I don't know how I'm supposed to—"
I kiss him before he can spiral into self-doubt. "You don't have to do anything. Just let us take care of you."
"Just feel," Dylan adds, his hand sliding up Cecil's thigh. "Just be here with us."
Cecil nods, trembling slightly.
Dylan reaches over to the nightstand, pulling out lube with practiced efficiency—something we'd prepared earlier, hoping but not assuming this would happen.
"We'll go slow," Dylan promises. "Tell us if anything doesn't feel right."
"Okay," Cecil whispers.
I watch as Dylan preps Cecil carefully, thoroughly, making sure he's ready.
He pours some of the lube onto his fingers and gently pushes one inside Cecil.
Cecil's reactions are beautiful—the way he gasps, the way he arches, the way he makes those soft, desperate sounds.
Dylan adds another finger and and hits a spot inside Cecil, making him moan.
He soon adds a third finger, fastening the rhythm and Cecil's moans get louder.
"Keith," Cecil gasps at one point. "I need—"
"What do you need, beautiful?"
"You. Both of you. Please."
Dylan and I exchange a look. We'd discussed this—knew that with Cecil's unique physiology, both of us being with him at once was possible. But we'd also agreed to take things slow, not overwhelm him.
"Are you sure?" Dylan asks. "We can take turns. We don't have to—"
"I want both of you," Cecil says, and there's certainty in his voice despite the nervousness. "Please. I want to feel complete."
That does it.
Dylan pulls out his fingers as he positions himself in front of Cecil's backhole.
Cecil's eyes squeeze shut and his hands fist in the sheets.
"Breathe, baby," Dylan murmurs. "Just breathe."
Cecil nods and relaxes a little, letting Dylan inside.
"Is it—does it hurt?" I ask, concerned.
"No," Cecil manages. "Just—full. Really full."
"Good full or bad full?" Dylan asks, completely still.
"Good," Cecil breathes. "Really good."
Dylan starts to move, slowly, watching Cecil's face for any sign of discomfort.
But Cecil just arches into it, his mouth falling open, soft moans escaping.
"Keith," Dylan says, and I know what he's asking.
I move into position carefully, adding more prep, making absolutely sure Cecil is ready.
"This might be intense," I warn. "Tell me if it's too much."
"I can take it," Cecil says. "Please, Keith. I want this. I want you."
I start to push in slowly, and Cecil's eyes fly open.
"Breathe," Dylan reminds him. "We've got you."
It takes time—careful, patient time—but eventually I'm fully seated, and Cecil is trembling between us.
"How do you feel?" I ask, my voice strained from holding back.
"Full," Cecil gasps. "So full. But good. Really, really good."
"Can we move?" Dylan asks.
"Yes. Please. Move."
We start slowly, carefully coordinating our movements. When Dylan pushes in, I pull back. When I thrust forward, Dylan withdraws.
It's overwhelming—for all of us.
Cecil is making the most beautiful sounds, his hands reaching for us, gripping whatever he can find.
At one point he tries to grab a pillow, clearly wanting to muffle himself.
"Oh no you don't," I say, gently intercepting his hand. "No hiding, beautiful. We want to hear you. Want to see you."
"But I'm—" Cecil's voice is wrecked. "I'm being so loud and I look—"
"Perfect," Dylan finishes, his rhythm never faltering. "You look perfect, baby. Absolutely gorgeous like this."
"Especially like this," I add. "Taking both of us so well. Being so good for us."
Cecil makes a sound that's half-sob, half-moan, and I can feel how close he is.
"That's it," Dylan encourages. "Let go, baby. We've got you."
"I can't—" Cecil gasps. "It's too much—"
"You can," I promise. "Let go for us, beautiful. Show us how good we make you feel."
"Let go," Dylan commands, his voice taking on that authoritative edge that makes even me shiver.
And Cecil does.
He comes apart between us, crying out our names, his whole body trembling.
The sight and sound of it pushes me over the edge, and I hear Dylan groan as he follows moments later.
We stay connected for a long moment, all of us trembling and breathing hard.
Then, carefully, we separate. Dylan moves first, then me, both of us immediately reaching for Cecil to make sure he's okay.
Cecil looks dazed, his eyes unfocused, still trembling.
"Baby?" Dylan says gently. "You with us?"
"Yeah," Cecil manages, his voice hoarse. "Just... wow."
I can't help but laugh. "Wow?"
"That's the best I can do right now. My brain stopped working."
"Good," Dylan says, satisfaction clear in his voice.
I pull Cecil against me, and Dylan wraps around both of us from the other side.
"How do you feel?" I ask quietly. "Really?"
"Sore," Cecil admits. "But good sore. And..." He pauses, his face flushing again. "Complete. I feel complete."
My chest tightens with emotion.
"You are complete," Dylan murmurs. "You're ours, baby. Completely ours."
"And we're yours," I add. "All of us together. Exactly as it should be."
Cecil makes a soft sound and burrows closer.
"Thank you," he whispers.
"For what?"
"For being patient. For waiting for me. For making my first time..." He trails off, emotion thick in his voice. "For making it perfect."
"Always, beautiful," I promise. "Always."
Dylan presses a kiss to Cecil's shoulder. "We should clean up. Get you comfortable."
"In a minute," Cecil mumbles. "Just want to stay like this for a minute."
So we do.
We lie there—the three of us tangled together, complete and whole and exactly where we're supposed to be.
And I think about how we waited so long for this.
How patient we had to be.
How worth it all was.
Because this—Cecil between us, all of us connected in every way possible—this is everything.
This is home.
This is forever.WARNING: Mature Content
I've imagined this moment a thousand times.
More than a thousand, probably. Since I was a kid meeting Cecil for the first time and not understanding the pull I felt toward him. Through all the years of friendship and longing and not knowing how to bridge that gap. Through the recent weeks of falling deeper and deeper in love with him while trying desperately to be patient.
But nothing I imagined comes close to this.
To Cecil beneath us, flushed and breathless and wanting.
To Dylan on his other side, finally letting go of all that careful control that he built around himself like armor.
To all three of us together, exactly where we're supposed to be.
Cecil makes a soft sound as Dylan kisses along his neck, and my hand tightens involuntarily on his hip.
"Keith?" Cecil's voice is breathless. "You okay?"
"I'm—" I have to stop and clear my throat. "Yeah. I'm perfect. This is perfect."
Dylan pulls back slightly, looking at me with knowing eyes. "Overwhelmed?"
"Maybe a little."
"Good overwhelmed?" Cecil asks, and there's uncertainty in his voice that makes me immediately focus.
"The best overwhelmed," I assure him, leaning down to kiss him softly. "I just—I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. And now it's actually happening and my brain is having trouble keeping up."
Cecil's expression softens. "I know what you mean."
"Yeah?" I brush my thumb along his cheekbone. "You've been thinking about this too?"
His face goes even redder. "Maybe. A lot. Especially after—" He stops, looking embarrassed.
"After what?" Dylan prompts gently.
"After that night when you both kissed me and called me beautiful and baby and I—" Cecil covers his face with his hands. "I couldn't stop thinking about it."
Something possessive and pleased settles in my chest.
"Good," Dylan says, his voice low. "You should think about it. About us. About this."
I gently pull Cecil's hands away from his face. "Don't hide from us, beautiful. We want to see you."
"I'm embarrassed," Cecil mumbles.
"Why?"
"Because I—" He takes a breath. "This is my first time. With anyone. And you both probably have so much more experience and I don't know what I'm doing and—"
He stops because I've gone completely still.
First time.
We're Cecil's first.
His only.
The thought makes something fierce and possessive roar to life in my chest, but also something tender and protective.
We have to be careful. Have to make this good for him. Have to make sure he feels safe and cherished and—
"Keith, you're blushing," Dylan observes, amused.
I am. I can feel the heat in my face.
"It's just—" I look at Cecil. "That's—you've never—"
"Never," Cecil confirms quietly. "Is that... is that okay?"
"Is it okay?" I repeat, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "Cecil, that's—" I don't know how to put into words what that means to me. To us.
Dylan saves me. "Don't worry, baby," he says, his hand cupping Cecil's face. "We'll make you enjoy it so much you'll forget about being nervous completely."
The confidence in his voice makes Cecil shiver.
"Promise?" Cecil asks softly.
"Promise," Dylan and I say in unison.
I lean down to kiss him again, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into it—the love, the want, the desperate need to make this perfect for him.
When I pull back, Cecil's eyes are dark and his breathing is uneven.
"We need to be careful," I say, looking at Dylan. "Extra careful."
"I know," Dylan says, but there's heat in his eyes that mirrors what I'm feeling. "We will be."
Cecil makes a frustrated sound. "I'm not going to break. The powers—Nalani explained it to me. My body is different now. More resilient. Like—" He stops, clearly embarrassed again.
"Like an Omega," Dylan finishes gently. "Without the heats or pheromones."
"Yeah." Cecil won't meet our eyes. "So I can—you don't have to be too worried about—"
"We're still going to be careful," I interrupt firmly. "Powers or not, this is your first time. We're going to make sure it's good for you."
"The best," Dylan adds. "We're going to take care of you, baby. Every step of the way."
Cecil looks between us, and something in his expression shifts—trust mixing with want mixing with something that looks like relief.
"Okay," he whispers. "Okay. I trust you."
Those three words—I trust you—hit me harder than anything else could have.
He trusts us.
With this. With his first time. With his body and his heart and everything he is.
I kiss him again, slower this time, more deliberate. My hand slides down his chest, his stomach, lower—
Cecil gasps against my mouth.
"Still good?" I murmur.
"Yes," he breathes. "Don't stop."
Dylan's hands are working on the button of Cecil's jeans, and I pull back to watch as he slides them down, taking Cecil's underwear with them.
Cecil tries to cover himself, his hands moving automatically.
"Don't," Dylan says gently, catching his wrists. "Let us see you, baby. All of you."
Cecil's face is burning red but he lets Dylan guide his hands away, lets us look.
And god, he's beautiful.
Perfect.
Ours.
I'm still mostly dressed and that suddenly feels wrong. I pull back just enough to shed my jeans, and Dylan does the same.
Cecil's eyes go wide, darting between us.
"I—" he starts, then stops, clearly overwhelmed.
"What is it, beautiful?" I ask, settling back beside him.
"You're both—" He can't seem to finish the sentence.
Dylan smirks. "Use your words, baby."
"Perfect," Cecil finally manages. "You're both perfect and I don't know how I'm supposed to—"
I kiss him before he can spiral into self-doubt. "You don't have to do anything. Just let us take care of you."
"Just feel," Dylan adds, his hand sliding up Cecil's thigh. "Just be here with us."
Cecil nods, trembling slightly.
Dylan reaches over to the nightstand, pulling out supplies with practiced efficiency—something we'd prepared earlier, hoping but not assuming this would happen.
"We'll go slow," Dylan promises. "Tell us if anything doesn't feel right."
"Okay," Cecil whispers.
I watch as Dylan preps Cecil carefully, thoroughly, making sure he's ready. Cecil's reactions are beautiful—the way he gasps, the way he arches, the way he makes those soft, desperate sounds.
"Keith," Cecil gasps at one point. "I need—"
"What do you need, beautiful?"
"You. Both of you. Please."
Dylan and I exchange a look. We'd discussed this—knew that with Cecil's unique physiology, both of us being with him at once was possible. But we'd also agreed to take things slow, not overwhelm him.
"Are you sure?" Dylan asks. "We can take turns. We don't have to—"
"I want both of you," Cecil says, and there's certainty in his voice despite the nervousness. "Please. I want to feel complete."
That does it.
Dylan positions himself first, moving slowly, carefully, giving Cecil time to adjust.
Cecil's eyes squeeze shut and his hands fist in the sheets.
"Breathe, baby," Dylan murmurs. "Just breathe."
"Is it—does it hurt?" I ask, concerned.
"No," Cecil manages. "Just—full. Really full."
"Good full or bad full?" Dylan asks, completely still, waiting for Cecil to adjust.
"Good," Cecil breathes. "Really good."
Dylan starts to move, slowly, watching Cecil's face for any sign of discomfort.
But Cecil just arches into it, his mouth falling open, loud moans escaping those plush lips.
"Keith," Dylan says, and I know what he's asking.
I move into position carefully, adding more prep, making absolutely sure Cecil is ready to take us both despite it being his first time.
"This might be intense," I warn. "Tell me if it's too much."
"I can take it," Cecil says. "Please, Keith. I want this. I want you."
I start to push in slowly, and Cecil's eyes fly open.
"Breathe," Dylan reminds him. "We've got you."
It takes time—careful, patient time—but eventually I'm fully seated, and Cecil is trembling between us.
"How do you feel?" I ask, my voice strained from holding back.
"Full," Cecil gasps. "So full. But good. Really, really good."
"Can we move?" Dylan asks.
"Yes. Please. Move."
We start slowly, carefully coordinating our movements. When Dylan pushes in, I pull back. When I thrust forward, Dylan withdraws.
It's overwhelming—for all of us.
Cecil is making the most beautiful sounds, his hands reaching for us, gripping whatever he can find.
At one point he tries to grab a pillow, clearly wanting to muffle himself.
"Oh no you don't," I say, gently intercepting his hand. "No hiding, beautiful. We want to hear you. Want to see you."
"But I'm—" Cecil's voice is wrecked. "I'm being so loud and I look—"
"Perfect," Dylan finishes, his rhythm never faltering. "You look perfect, baby. Absolutely gorgeous like this."
"Especially like this," I add. "Taking both of us so well. Being so good for us."
Cecil makes a sound that's half-sob, half-moan, and I can feel how close he is.
"That's it," Dylan encourages. "Let go, baby. We've got you."
"I can't—" Cecil gasps. "It's too much—"
"You can," I promise. "Let go for us, beautiful. Show us how good we make you feel."
"Let go," Dylan commands, his voice taking on that authoritative edge that makes even me shiver.
And Cecil does.
He comes apart between us, crying out our names, his whole body trembling.
The sight and sound of it pushes me over the edge, and I hear Dylan groan as he follows moments later.
We stay connected for a long moment, all of us trembling and breathing hard.
Then, carefully, we separate. Dylan moves first, then me, both of us immediately reaching for Cecil to make sure he's okay.
Cecil looks dazed, his eyes unfocused, still trembling.
"Baby?" Dylan says gently. "You with us?"
"Yeah," Cecil manages, his voice hoarse. "Just... wow."
I can't help but laugh. "Wow?"
"That's the best I can say right now. My brain stopped working."
"Good," Dylan says, satisfaction clear in his voice.
I pull Cecil against me, and Dylan wraps around both of us from the other side.
"How do you feel?" I ask quietly. "Really?"
"Sore," Cecil admits. "But good sore. And..." He pauses, his face flushing again. "Complete. I feel complete."
My chest tightens with emotion.
"You are complete," Dylan murmurs. "You're ours, baby. Completely ours."
"And we're yours," I add. "All of us together. Exactly as it should be."
Cecil makes a soft sound and burrows closer.
"Thank you," he whispers.
"For what?"
"For being patient. For waiting for me. For making my first time..." He trails off, emotion thick in his voice. "For making it perfect."
"Always, beautiful," I promise. "Always."
Dylan presses a kiss to Cecil's shoulder. "We should clean up. Get you comfortable."
"In a minute," Cecil mumbles. "Just want to stay like this for a minute."
So we do.
We lie there—the three of us tangled together, complete and whole and exactly where we're supposed to be.
And I think about how we waited so long for this.
How patient we had to be.
How worth it all was.
Because this—Cecil between us, all of us connected in every way possible—this is everything.
This is home.
This is forever.