Blissful Oneshots

A Balance in Thirds (Scomarson)

And welcome to the first thing longer than 100 words I've written in over a month. Is anyone surprised that it's self-indulgent PWP? 

My thanks to silentdescant for her betaing skillz.

Mason shifts the weight of the tray he's carrying to one arm, quietly opening the bedroom door with his other.

He expects to find his lovers where he left them, tangled together, soundly asleep. He wants to spoil them on their day off. Wants to wake them peacefully, see them slowly rouse and smile at the smell of coffee in the morning light. Watch them take in the three cups, three bagels, three eggs, three dollops of avocado, three orange wedges; the sets of three make his designer heart as happy as the reasoning behind them.

What he finds instead is Scott mumbling incoherently, one hand stretched across the mattress, the other tangled in Mark's hair. Mark himself is between Scott's legs, sucking his cock at a leisurely pace, which Mason knows from personal experience is an even more beautiful way to wake up.

He sets the tray down on the bedside table and watches for a moment. "You started without me."

Scott doesn't really react, just tosses his head on the pillow. It's Mark that holds out his hand, lips still wrapped around Scott's cock, and looks at Mason like he's an idiot. When Mason doesn't figure out what he wants right away, he rolls his eyes, pointedly looks at Scott's face, and holds his hand up more demandingly.

Mason still doesn't get it until he takes a closer look at Scott. His features are soft, lips parted, breathing already a bit erratic. But it's his eyes that let Mason finally clue into what Mark's already figured out. They're only partly open, but the pleading, half-glazed look in them is unmistakable.

Oh. Scotty's feeling needy.

It's rare for him. Usually when they're in bed, he's fun and creative, but toppy as hell. Mark, as generous and carefree with his submission as he is with everything else, falls easily for him. Mason, who'd never submitted to anyone in his life before they started dating Scott, is always surprised to find himself obeying orders as often as he gives them.

But sometimes, Scott gets passive. Pliant. As yielding and biddable as any sub Mason has ever seen. He hasn't figured out the pattern yet, what it is that leads to Scott being in this type of mood. It's probably best that he can't work it out, honestly, because he knows himself well enough to know he'd try to manipulate whatever he could to make it happen more often, and part of the gift of it is its rarity.

And fuck, is it ever a gift.

Mason drags himself from his thoughts to fish the lube out of the drawer and hand it to Mark, as requested. Then he shrugs out of his robe and slides onto the bed, settling himself on his elbow, snug along the line of Scott's body, feeling the warmth of his skin. He leans over him, smooths his palm over Scott's stomach and up his chest to rest on his throat. "You need us to take care of you, baby?" he whispers, watching Scott's eyelashes flutter. "Make you feel good?"

Mark, meanwhile, has slicked up his fingers and is tracing them over Scott's balls, nudging his legs further apart as he goes. Mason's not sure if it's that or his question that makes Scott's back arch and a whine leave his throat. It doesn't matter, because he's there to swallow the sound either way, sliding his hand up to cup Scott's jaw and control both his head and the kiss.

Scott shudders after a moment, and Mason pulls back to find Mark sliding a finger into him, easing it in and out, still sucking gently on the head of Scott's cock.

"That's so good, isn't it, Scotty? Mark getting you all ready for us? Mmm, I can't wait to have you."

Mark's upping the game now, sliding another finger in and crooking them, taking Scott deeper when his hips buck in response. Mason can't help but reach his hand down to run his fingers through Mark's hair, smiling when he preens at the attention. There's really nothing prettier than Mark with his mouth full of cock, even if it's not currently Mason's.