I love my asexual Welsh baby... I also love poly britaincest which I write criminally little of, so I'm here to remedy that.

I was thinking about something like this the other day, about if in a poly relationship one of them was asexual, it seems reasonable that the other two would go off and do the sexy bit while the other one waits for them to get done, but then I thought about angst opportunities and this happened. I've exaggerated Wales' asexuality for the purpose of the story, my own asexuality manifests in a lack of sexual attraction, but that wouldn't make very good angst, so I've made Wales' a little more extreme, more akin to a phobia, for the purposes of the story, I explained my actual headcanon on his thoughts on sex in one of my chapters in 'It's in the Brows' I wanna say chapter 8 but I might be wrong on that.

Anyway, that's enough rambling about asexuality.

Enjoy! ;)


This was always Dylan's least favourite part of the evening. The waiting... Waiting while his partners...

He bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck, they were taking their time today. It had been almost an hour and they still hadn't called him up.

Don't get him wrong, he certainly didn't mind them doing this without him, but he sometimes wished he could join in with them, with the intimacy and... The touching and- he shivered. No, he couldn't. He couldn't go up there. He couldn't join in. He would let them do it and he would sit downstairs with the tv on full volume and try to not know what his boyfriends were doing upstairs.

He probably wouldn't be so bothered if he didn't care so much about the two of them, but as it stood he always felt a pang of terror that they'd get bored with him, with what he couldn't bring to the table, go off on their own because who in their right mind wanted a lover who wouldn't have sex with them?

His previous partners certainly hadn't.

"C'mon Dylan, for me."

"But you got me all hot and bothered."

"I know you want to really, I want you baby."

Dylan curled up, his eyes casting toward the door, his heart clenching a little.

"I just can't do this anymore."

"You can't do for me what I need."

"I don't think this is going to work, I'm sorry."

Shit. Why was he so broken? Why couldn't he let his partners touch him... That way... without feeling absolutely terrified and physically sick? He hated it. He hated everything about it! He-

"Dylan?"

He looked up, wiping his eyes as he realised they had begun to water. "I- uh- Are you done?"

Arthur ran a hand through his messy and clearly sexed-up hair, a worried frown on his face as he stood at the door with a hip jutted out and wearing only his boxers, "Never mind that, are you alright?"

Dylan nodded, "Of course, why wo-"

"Don't give me that shit, Dylan." Arthur took another step into the room, a stern expression on his face, "I know you, what's on your mind."

"It's nothing Artie," Dylan replied, standing and trying his hardest to hide any hint of anything that would make Arthur pry further, "Let's go to bed."

He walked over toward him, and more importantly, the escape that the door offered, but Arthur stopped him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping in front of him. His green eyes looked him over for a brief moment, before his face softened and he let the hand that rested on Dylan's shoulder drift up to cup his cheek gently, "Tell me what you're thinking. Trust me, it'll do you no good to bottle it up, I'm here to listen."

Dylan shook his head again, opening his mouth to once again shoot down Arthur's worried questions, but Arthur got there first, pressing their lips together gently, chastely and warmly, and exactly the way Arthur knew he liked his kisses, "Tell me what you're thinking, love."

At the look in Arthur's eyes he found it hard to resist the urge to tell him, and opened his mouth to begin before he consciously closed it and averted his eyes, "It's stupid."

Arthur smiled, "I'm sure if it's got you this worked up it has to have at least a little backing, come on darling. I'm listening, I promise."

Dylan but his lip, "I-" he took a deep breath, "I really do-" he shook his head and grit his teeth, making Arthur smile reassuringly. He leant forward to press his forehead into Arthur's shoulder so he didn't have to look him in the eye. "I love you, both of you," he began, and Arthur rubbed circles into his back, "I just- I- when you- just now and I can't give that to you, and I know I can't, and everyone else has left me, and I-"

He sucked in a long and shaky breath as he felt Arthur's hold on him tighten, "Oh Dylan," he breathed, his grip squeezing him almost too tightly, "We love you. We love you so much."

He released the hug so he could hold Dylan out, pushing his rather long, slightly curly hair from his face, and being sure they made eye contact. His eyes were green, dazzling green, both he and Alistair had the most beautiful green eyes, Dylan's were blue, almost grey, paling in comparison to his partners and in that moment he realised he really had nothing. Nothing the two of them could possibly want. He felt the tears attempt to enter his eyes again, "We won't leave you, not for any reason as superficial as we're not sleeping togeth-"

"But that's just it!" Dylan said, a barely noticeable quiver to his voice, "I hate not being able to-" he choked, unable to say it, "I want to make you happy, but I can't do that, I can't-"

"Dylan!" Arthur growled, shocking Dylan into silence. His brows knitted together angrily, "We do not need to sleep with you to be happy. We don't even need to sleep with each other to be happy. Yes, it's enjoyable for us, we wouldn't do it otherwise, but it's not enjoyable for you, and we would never, not in a million years, ask you to do anything you didn't want to do. Never, you hear me?"

Dylan didn't notice that he'd let his tears go in the shock of Arthur's outburst, it was only when Arthur's hands came up to wipe at his cheeks that he lifted his own in an attempt to clear them, "But you-"

"No 'but's, no 'if's, no 'maybe's. If I thought for a second you truly wanted to sleep with us I would have invited you ages ago. We tried once, we need not have a repeat of that fiasco," he smiled softly, his gentle bony fingers rubbing soothing circles into the base of his neck, "Although I'm not sure I'd be able to turn down sleeping in a castle made of blankets with you two again."

Dylan sucked on his own lip, frowning, "You two are- I never get to be that intimate with you though and I-"

Arthur chuckled, "Intimate is rather a romantic notion, but I'm afraid Alistair and I aren't really capable of that when we sleep together. He and I have only ever made love once, and that was just after we'd had that huge fight and he threatened to leave us, remember?"

Dylan nodded, "I fell asleep on the floor, and when I woke up you were tangled up on the couch naked, holding my hand."

"I'm surprised you didn't wake up," Arthur smiled, "You really do sleep like a log, I was terrified the whole time that you were going to though. I think the reason I found that I didn't care is that the fact you were there was more comforting than anything else."

Dylan had found himself running his fingers over Arthur's collar bone as he spoke, to allow himself to look away from his eyes if nothing else, circling a bruise that had been sucked into the skin there, he grimaced a little.

Arthur smiled, "See," Dylan look up at him quizzically, "You can't even look at a hickey without getting that sour grapes expression. Why would we want to sleep with you if you're going to be terrified and disgusted the whole time? That's no fun, love."

Dylan sighed out a long be breath, nodding carefully, "Okay, so you really don't need me to sleep with you?" Arthur shook his head, "You're not going to get bored with me?" Arthur shook his head, "You don't-"

Arthur kissed him gently again, "We don't need anything from you," he said, as gently as he'd kissed him, cupping his face in his hands, "All we need is to know that you're happy, and if sleeping with you would make you happy we'd do it in a heartbeat, but as it stands that's not the case." One more feather-light kiss, "So right now, why don't we go back upstairs, wake up that lout because he's undoubtedly already asleep, and make a castle out of blankets, hmn?"

Dylan smiled, "Okay."


The castle made of blankets was hardly a great feat of engineering, the centre sagged, and it was balanced so precariously that it was sure to fall over and bury them all during the night, but as he lay in the darkness, with Alistair's warm body pressed to his back, and Arthur's cool one pressed to his front, their arms wrapped around him as if he were the most valuable thing in the world and feeling absolutely and undoubtedly loved, a heavy sense of calm settled over him and he could honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had never been happier. This was enough, this was close and intimate, and, he decided, this was as good as any sex could be, the heavy sound of Alistair's snores, and the quiet puffs of Arthur's breaths as lovely as any moan could be.

He felt himself let out a small sob, bringing his free hand up to cover his smile and hide the noise. And then he let out another, and Alistair's snores stopped, a groan coming from behind him, "You okay?" Came a gravelly and tired voice, making him twist to look at Alistair's bleary face.

Dylan nodded, "I'm fine, I'm just happy."

Alistair smiled drowsily, nodding and pressing a kiss to his temple before settling back down, his snores resuming within a matter of seconds. Dylan smiled and settled back down with him, feeling Alistair's heavy breaths press into his back, Arthur's arms minutely tightening.

He was right, his concerns were stupid, and though he doubted they'd never resurface, he knew he needn't let them fester anymore. If tonight had taught him anything it was that he was loved, and no lack of sex was going to change that.

He smiled.

No, they were fine exactly how they were.