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“She can be. She can be mine.”
“And me,” he asks, his jaw tense.
“You can be there,” I say, reaching down to cup his cock through his sweats. “You can watch.”
His cock lengthens, his fingers tighten their hold, and his collarbone becomes more pronounced at the thought. Alexander releases an uncomfortable sigh, bringing us nose to nose. The ideal situation is to be the one watching the two of them, we both know it. Dropping little ideas like this in his head is only to make the idea of the three of us more enticing.
“No.”
“Why are you fighting it, Alexander? We both know the truth.”
“She’s too good for that. She deserves more.” This is the Midwestern farm boy talking now. The one that came from a conservative nuclear family and hasn’t seen anything different. It’s ridiculous, but I understand the struggle to fight your upbringing all too well.
“We can give her more, Alexander. We could give her everything.”
“We? You and I aren’t even defined,” he argues.
“Not by words, no,” I agree. Though there are plenty of other things that define our relationship. This, too, he knows.
We’re unconventional; rarely spending time together, even less rarely having sex. It’s a partnership though. A trust we’ve built over years of sharing thoughts and feelings. It’s more than lust and not at all mere infatuation. I can see a life with this man, something real that runs the distance. We’ve never been urgent or rushed.
There’s no reason to be with Willa, either. Maybe a polyamorous relationship isn’t what she wants. Or maybe she’d be open to it but apprehensive. There’s no way to know until we talk about it.
“I don’t want to hurt her, Damian. I never want her in pain.” He softens, only some, but enough for me to see.
“Nor do I,” I say. “I also don’t want her downstairs alone when she should be up here with us. Let me go talk to her.”
Leaning in, I kiss him. Slowly, softly, and intimately, I taste his mouth with my tongue in way of a promise. A vow to never hurt him or anyone he loves.
We’re both struggling with the newness of this. Neither of us have experience with relationships between two people, let alone three. Yet I can’t get past the urgency inside that tells me Willa is meant to be here just as much as we are. Fate is a bullshit concept, but it’s the closest word I can find to make sense of what I feel. I barely know Willa, but she’s a magnet that draws me in.
It’s not like me to stake a claim, but I want to make them both mine. Hide them away in a gilded cage of my own, making every night where we fuck each other blind. I want to wake up tangled with them every morning. I want to care for them, protect them, grow with them.
I push all those thoughts into this kiss until he can feel it too.
“Okay” he relents, the idea finally settling over him. “We can feel it out.”
I smile against his lips.
“We’ll go easy. If she seems disinterested, we back off.”
“Agreed,” he says. “My head says this won’t work.”
“It can, if she wants it,” I tell him.
“If she doesn’t?”
“We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Alexander may not be able to envision a life for the three of us, but a vivid picture forms in my own head as I walk to Willa’s place. I’ve spent my existence without many life goals, outside of my degree, anyway. Once I have that, what do I do next? It’s a question that’s played in the corners of my mind for so long. Now, I can almost see the answer formed with definition.
I want a family, even if it’s as unconventional as they come. I want a home to settle into at the end of every day that isn’t as lonely as the one I currently own.
Honestly, it’s a strange feeling. Like I’m the grinch who just grew a heart or some shit.
I knock on Willa’s door. There’s noise from the other side, but no answer. I lean against the doorjamb, listening more closely as I knock again, this time louder. Finally, she answers, pulling an earbud out of one ear.
“Damian. Hi,” she says as if I’ve caught her off guard.
