Set sometime around "Don't Fear the Scott." Except apparently in some alternate universe where Suren does not exist.
"This is so, so fucked up," Josh mutters, but Aidan's hands are cupping Julia's face, and she's kissing him back, and the two of them aren't really paying attention.
And okay, it's fucked up, but when Julia turns her head to look at him, reaches out to him—"Josh"—voice low and rough with want, Josh goes.
It's not even the first threesome he's had this week, technically, after what Stu did, but he's the only one that seems not okay with it. Does Julia do this often? Does Aidan? What is he thinking, of course Aidan—
Focus, he thinks, grounds himself in the scent of Julia's shampoo and Aidan's (borrowed) blood.
The two of you! Guilt guilt guilt! Sally's voice in his head (or—not-Sally's voice, and that's a whole other issue). "I made him." "I did this to her." Both of you should just shut up and deal with it already. But he's pretty sure this isn't dealing with it. He's pretty sure this is the opposite of that.
He helps Aidan take off Julia's shirt; pulls her hair to the side, closes his eyes, and puts his mouth against the back of her neck the way he knows she likes. His other hand is at her waist, fingers caught now between his body and Aidan's.
He's just breathing Julia in, getting used to feeling her pressed against him like this again—he's getting used to Aidan's hand on his hip (is that supposed to be there?)—when something changes. A smell, or a—something, Josh doesn't know what, but it stirs his wolf, makes his human senses fogged and uneasy. He whips his head up to look at Aidan, to see if he's sensed it too—and Aidan's eyes are black.
There's a sound like he hears sometimes in his nightmares, a slow crunch, and he can see the fangs behind Aidan's parted lips. Josh's eyes go wide. Aidan's thumb is hooked through Julia's camisole strap, his teeth cut ting into Julia's shoulder, but Aidan's own eyes are fixed on him, as if to say, She won't remember, not this part. This part's just for us, and Josh grips him by the hair, yanks his head up. Smashes Aidan's mouth to his.
Julia's blood is tinny in his mouth under Aidan's slick tongue, as Julia writhes between them. He's dimly aware of her head falling back on his shoulder, of Aidan pressing her closer to him as he works to get a better angle at Josh's mouth, but the only thing Josh can focus on is Aidan's hands broad and almost painful on his back and the way he kind of wants to bare his throat and whimper.
And this is definitely not supposed to be part of this—or at least it wasn't for him, who knows what goes on in Aidan's brain most of the time?, Josh had kind of gotten the feeling that Henry—don't think about that now—but his hand is coming up to wrap around Aidan's neck even as the other holds Julia upright, and yes, Aidan's hair is just as think and hard with gel as Josh has always suspected, but his pulse is hammering under Josh's thumb. He rubs it back and forth experimentally, pushing his tongue further into Aidan's mouth, and Aidan shudders, gasps against Josh's lips, breaks the kiss.
Between then, Julia's started to laugh; Josh doesn't even know if she's really conscious and aware right now, he can feel her blood wet at the collar of his t-shirt, but figures she must be when she murmurs, "The two of you are hot together, shit," and reaches a hand up to take Aidan's mouth back with her own before turning to kiss Josh, too.
There's something overwhelming in the combination of Julia's breasts pressed against him, her breath on his skin as she starts kissing down his neck, and Aidan's hands and eyes on him, burning into him.
"You—you sure you want to do this?" Josh asks—which one of the three of them, he isn't sure—but Julia says, "Yes," and Aidan smirks kind of distractedly, fingers busy at the fastening of Josh's pants, and what the hell, right? This week couldn't get any weirder; his life couldn't get any weirder. What's a threesome with his ex-fiancée and his vampire best friend, really, in the grand supernatural scheme of things?
So he grabs Aidan by the hair again, pulls his mouth back to his own, then drops his hands to the hem of Julia's camisole.
He works it up and awkwardly over her head—no bra—and when he bends to flick his tongue over her nipple, steadying himself with his hands on her waist, it's Aidan's hand that's on her breast, lifting it to Josh's mouth, and when he latches on and sucks, it's Aidan's smell that fills his senses.
The three of them tumble into Aidan's bed, a place only Josh is a stranger to.
"D'you guys do this often?" Julia asks breathlessly as Aidan strips her out of her jeans.
"No!" Josh nearly yelps.
"Never," Aidan says more calmly.
The blood has finally clotted at her shoulder, but she hasn't noticed, just like she hadn't noticed she was bleeding in the first place. She's without shame as, kneeling between his thighs, she twists her hair over her other shoulder, baring the spot, and sinks her mouth down over his dick. Aidan is behind her, naked, long fingers bracketing her smooth, bare hips as he pushes slowly into her, watching the place they meet, then looking up to meet Josh's eyes.
"I think I'd probably better go," Julia whispers to him later, smiling a little. Her face is unmade, her hair mussed; she looks every bit as lovely as she ever has.
"I'll call you," he says, and she smiles more and says, warmly, "You better," before—last glance at Aidan, faking sleep on the other side of the bed—snagging her underwear from the floor and letting herself out.
Josh lies there and stares at the ceiling until he hears the door close downstairs. Then he looks over at Aidan.
Aidan's eyes are open, gaze direct but calm. Clearly, he's waiting for Josh to say something.
"I guess I'll . . . be going too," Josh says finally. It takes him an extra second to release the sheet from where he has it clutched at his chest—he's feeling exposed, all of a sudden, with Julia gone—but he manages, and starts to climb out of the bed.
"Josh—" Aidan says, and circles Josh's wrist with fingers that an hour before circled . . . something else.
The kiss is short, straightforward, just a rough brush of lips. Like a manly back pat, but with mouths. Josh doesn't know what it means.
"Uh . . . thanks?" he hazards, and Aidan smirks a little as he falls back onto the bed.
It's a few hours lying in the dark in his own room later before Josh realizes that Aidan didn't kiss Julia once after they left the kitchen.
Josh's lips are still raw.
So, so fucked up.