Three at Three Thirty [boyXboy]

A.N. So I've read a few three-way one shots lately, and it kept bugging me that it wasn't clear who was who, and eventually I decided to give it a go....... Yeah. It's not as easy as it seems XD I'm not happy with it, but I do love the characters: maybe I'll give them another go at another time, and get it right. But anyway, enough rambling. Without any further ado, I give you:

Three @ 3:30

It is getting late, almost too late, and I'm really starting to hate Gerry. It's a dangerous situation; he knows that I'm gay, but we're not close enough that I can push it. And yet it's three thirty a.m. and I should have gotten laid by now.

I really want to push it. I want to drag Aidan into my lap and make a point of it all so that Gerry finally leaves. The rest of them did, when we called the taxi, but Gerry didn't. Gerry scrambled in anyway.

I spent the whole night with Aidan, everybody knows he and I have a good thing going, no strings attached, and now it's three thirty. If I was here with a girl, Gerry would get it.

Aidan leans into my shins, resting his head on my knee.

I need him. I want him.

He tilts his head back, catching my eye as he lazily passes up a half-empty bottle of Bud. I shouldn't drink, I'll punch Gerry, but I take the bottle anyway and swig. Aidan smiles.

Gerry watches the movement, and for a second, I think he'll take the hint and leave, but he doesn't. If I was sober, and not so fucking horny, I'd be impressed at how open he's being. But at the moment it doesn't feel like open, it just feels like dense. We're not even really talking, we're just sitting here; Gerry and I on the edge of my bed, Aidan on the floor in front of me.

I want him. I need him.

Aidan shakes out his hair, the messy blonde locks fanning out across my knees. I think he can sense my frustration and it turns what had been quite a pleasant smile into something playful and teasing.

I want...

"Pax," he says, waving his empty bottle, "I think there are a few more of these in the kitchen."

Gerry might not be able to take a hint, but I can.

Aidan pushes himself up using my thigh, fingers straying just a little too high. I disguise my gasp but not well, and as I follow Aidan from the room, I look across at Gerry. He returns the gaze, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. I can't quite tell if he noticed or not. In fact, I can't read anything from his gaze. It should be disconcerting, but in a way, its intensity is very hot. I am reminded, quite suddenly, that Gerry's presence is only annoying because he's straight.

Probably straight, it's not like we've discussed it.

I shake my head, blaming alcohol and my poor, tortured libido for the way my thoughts are straying. I shut the door gently behind me, throwing a final quizzical look back at Gerry as he leans back on my bed and brings the bottle to his lips again.

"Is it wrong that I'm kinda enjoying this?" Aidan asks as soon as it's private, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder. It bounces across the carpet but I'm too drunk to worry about waking my housemates. I think most of them might still be out anyway.

"Yes," I snap, and turn it quickly into something teasing, "Why would you enjoy that, when you could be enjoying this?"

I wrap my hand around his wrist, pulling him in. Aidan submits happily at first, moulding his delicate form into my muscle, and waits just long enough for me to let go of his hand before he dances happily away.