***DISCONTINUED*** PEACHY KEEN (MULTIFANDOM)

1. THE NEW GUY

Sometimes—most of the time—you wanted to kill your boys. You loved them half to death, but you were almost 100% certain that at least one of them had been dropped on their head when they were a kid. Or maybe last week. You were pretty sure that Mickey and Colin accidentally dropped Jake when he was attempting to crowd surf at the last party they threw. That had been a fun trip to the emergency room. Now you were dealing with two boys who insisted that every day should be a party, one boy that was recovering from a mild concussion, and another boy that was soon to move in and had already proven to be an absolute menace.

"Mickey, you better put away that DJ equipment right now or, I swear to god, I will shove it up your fucking ass," you snapped, watching as he began to set up for yet another party. "Jake's still recovering from y'all's last stunt."

"Oh, c'mon, peaches, I'll keep it down," he swore. You were sure if you looked behind his back, you'd see his fingers crossed.

"Put the equipment away now, or I won't suck your dick until Jake's fully recovered."

Mickey stared at you in the same way a child who's been caught with a hand in the cookie jar would look at the parent who caught him. "But that's not gonna be for weeks!"

"Hm, something to consider then."

"Wait, if we're punishing Mick, can my dick still be sucked?" Jake asked, his head popping up as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the couch.

A smile curled across your face as you walked over to Jake, climbing onto his lap, pushing his shoulders down so he was laying down again. His hands grasped at your lips, squeezing you tight. You leaned down, your lips brushing against his lips before trailing down to his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses behind. "Baby boy, you know you can have me any way you want me."

"If you keep spoiling him like that, I don't think he's ever going to recover," Colin laughed from his seat in the nearby recliner.

You raised up, shooting a glare his way. "You don't get a say in how I decide to take care of Jakey when you're half of the reason he's hurt."

Jake turned his head the best he could in the position he was in to look at Colin. "Yeah, you listen to peaches! If she says my daily blowjob is necessary to my healing process, then you just have to deal with it!" he said, finishing his sentence with an ever so childish move of sticking his tongue out.

"Maybe I'll go give myself a concussion so I can get this preferential treatment," Colin grumbled.

"You'll get no sympathy from me if you do that, pretty boy," you said.

"Well, what if I give Colin a concussion? Will he get sympathy blowjobs then?" Mickey asked.

"I might just have to suck his dick to piss you off, Mick," you said. "And you definitely wouldn't be getting your dick suck until after both my boys heal if you did that."

"So what you're saying is that this is a lose-lose for me."

"I mean, if you do nothing, you still got blowjob privileges."

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that, peaches?"

"Well, if we're doing things for the sake of fun, I know it'll be a lot of fun of tie up a certain naughty boy up and make him see how well I treat my good boys."

"Now that's just not fair!" Mickey protested.

"Listen, if you insist on throwing a party, fine. But just know that Colin's gonna be the only one touching your dick for the next month or so."

Mickey's jaw dropped, his eyes bugging out. Oh, he hates that. Being left out. You were sure that, if he was able to, he'd knock out the walls in all of your bedrooms, buy a California King bed, and just have all of you sleep together comfortably instead of squishing into whoever's bed you all ended up in any given night. To say that neither you nor Jake would give him the attention he so craved...God, it probably killed him inside. Which was exactly why you said it. His own actions had hurt your baby boy, and while he was undeniably apologetic about hurting Jake, it seemed he hadn't learned his lesson. And you weren't about to let that kind of behavior slide.

For a fleeting moment, the apartment was silent. But, all things must come to an end.

"Damn, Mickey, I see why you've nearly retired the party animal act now. If I had a slut like that at my beck and call, I wouldn't want to go anywhere either."

"Don't call her that!" Colin snapped.

"The fuck did you just say?" Jake said, sitting up and staring at the man who'd just entered the room.

"Listen, man, don't—" Mickey started.

"Who the fuck do you are?" you said, staring down the bastard who'd just came in.

Seriously, who the hell was he? You eyed him. He was tall, perhaps taller than Jake or even Colin. He had a sort of arrogant look in his eye. Hell, he had a sort of arrogant look in his entire body. He stood with his back straight, shoulders back, chin titled upwards. He looked like one of those pompous assholes who'd come into your boss's firm straight out of Harvard or Yale. The kind of man who just expected everything to be handed him. And, well, if you had to hand anything to him, it was that he at least seemed to have a decent sense of style. Certainly better than Colin's general lack of clothes or Jake's cheesy graphic tees or whatever the hell Mickey could throw together. But, dammit, no matter how cozy that cable knit looked, all you wanted to do was slap that damn smirk off of his face. And—

Was that a suitcase? Why the fuck did he have a suitcase?

"Ransom Drysdale."

"And why the hell are you here?"

"I'm your new roommate."