Was originally going to be for a Small Fandom Bang but decided it was too much fun so I'm gonna share it now and do something else for that.
This is my first time writing porn. Please be gentle (bow chicka bow wow). Will eventually be York/North/Wash.

Part One – York

I really have no idea how it got to all this.

I thought it was just going to be a one-off thing, a joke that lasted a little too long, something to make the others uncomfortable, but then…it didn't stop.

And I don't know if I want it to stop.

"Fucking rain."

It was coming down in sheets, soaking everything in seconds. Little puddles were scattered all across the pavement. The gutters looked like miniature rivers, complete with boat-shaped leaves riding to their inevitable doom. And standing just out of reach, barely underneath the bus stop overhang, was me, holding two bags of groceries and scared to leave the safety of the green metal cube.

I thought I was alone, but an arm brushed against mine and I jumped, looking to my right to see another young man standing there, a bright purple closed umbrella in one hand, the other curved and resting against his brow, just underneath his platinum blonde hair, his head tilted up to stare at the clouds above. "Man, this is really something. I thought it was supposed to be clear today."

"Yeah, me too," I replied. "Weather report is usually pretty accurate."

"Must be a freak storm. Are you waiting for the bus?" he asked.

"No, I just live a few blocks away," I said, shaking my head. "Didn't think it'd be raining, so I didn't drive, and my umbrella's in my car."

"Oh. Want me to walk with you?" He held up the umbrella, shaking it a little. "I was just out on a walk, it's cool."

"No, thank you. I'll just wait for it to let up." It wasn't that he didn't look trustworthy; I just didn't want to owe some stranger a favor. That sort of thing never ended well, at least in movies and television shows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks, though."

We stood in silence as the rain crashed down around us, drowning out the sounds from the cars idling in the street, backed up for blocks due to the flooding of the intersections. They were probably filled with people eager to get home to close windows or turn off sprinklers—it had been hot and arid for the past week, which meant that water conservation laws were in effect, though most lawns I noticed clearly didn't care.

"Well, if you're sure, I guess I'll get going. I've got some work to do." The man smiled as he snapped open the umbrella, watching it pop out into a dome in front of him. He held it out and the liquid bounced off the taut fabric, splattering to the ground. Lifting it up overhead, he stepped out into the downpour, and I watched as the shield of purple helped form a blanket of rain in a circle around his body.

"Uh, wait a second," I heard myself say before I thought it. I was already halfway out in the rain and he rushed over, raising the umbrella at an angle so I would be covered. It wasn't completely effective and I felt my sleeve cling to my skin as it was instantly soaked. I drew it towards my body, the grocery bag knocking against my waist, and shook my head, trying to laugh. "Sorry. I just…I sort of want to go home, and I don't think this is going to let up anytime soon."

"Hey, I'm the one that offered. Let me," he said, reaching for the closer of my two grocery bags. I loosened my grip on it and his fingers brushed against mine as the plastic transferred between us. His fingertips were soft and I felt my hand tremble slightly at the interaction. "I'm John, by the way. But you can call me North."

"North, huh? Interesting nickname," I said as we fell into step next to each other. I could barely hear my own thoughts under the pounding of the rain against the umbrella. It was just large enough to almost protect the both of us; I could feel my left hand getting wet, still holding the other grocery bag, the water splashing against the plastic to cling to my exposed skin.

"Long story," he replied.

"Oh. Uh, I'm Sean."

"Nice to meet you, Sean."

"Well, I actually go by York," I continued, feeling awkward as hell. "When I was a kid there were three other Sean's in my class, and my teacher gave us nicknames to tell us apart. I got York because I'm from New York."

"That's cute."

I stole a glance to my right and saw that he was smiling. "Yeah, I guess. It kind of stuck."

"At least it's a cute nickname." I could hear the amusement in his voice and I smiled, shrugging. My shoulder knocked against his as I did so.

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

"So, York, what are you doing out in the middle of the day?"

"Just grocery shopping," I replied, raising the bag in my hand an inch. "You?"

"Avoiding work."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a copy editor for a magazine, and I have a pile of articles to proof. I got bored and decided to take a walk, even though most of them are due in a few days." I snuck another look at him and saw that the smile was gone, replaced by a grim look, his lips set in a straight line.

"Oh. That sounds more interesting than what I do. I'm a graphic designer."

"Where do you work?"

"Oh, I freelance," I said, letting a chuckle escape my lips. "I'm not one to get tied down at one place. Hell, I haven't held a steady job in years. I sort of drift around."

"Interesting."

We walked in silence after that, and I nudged his arm when we needed to turn onto a side street. I could see my house up ahead after a few more minutes of walking and nodded in the direction. "I'm just up here."

"Sounds like it's letting up," North said, and I looked around, realizing the downpour wasn't as bad as it had been when we'd started walking.

"Yeah, I guess so." Reaching into my pocket to grab my keys, my arm brushed against his and I instinctively pulled away a little. "Oh, I guess I need my bag."

I reached for it but he pulled his arm away, dangling it in the rain. "At least let me walk you to the door so you don't get soaked," he said, and I shrugged again.

"Sure." We approached the house and I hopped forward a few steps, out from underneath the umbrella but safely making it onto the porch without getting drenched. I unlocked the door and shoved it open, hoping it didn't get stuck in the doorframe since it was hot. It seemed to open fine for once and I stepped inside, dropping my bag on the wooden planks of the entryway. "Here," I said, reaching out for the other bag, seeing that North was still standing on the porch, his umbrella to his side as he shook the water from it.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He held the bag out and I took it from him, setting it down next to the other one.

I stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching him shake the rest of the rain from the fabric. "Do you want a drink or something?" I finally said, gesturing for him to come inside. "I mean, the rain's almost done, but I've gotta repay you somehow to letting me crash your umbrella space."

"If you insist." North leaned down and closed the umbrella, setting it against the wall next to the door. He followed me inside and I closed the door behind us.

"I'm gonna change real fast," I said, pointing to my soaked shirt. He nodded and I headed up the stairway next to the door, shucking my shirt as I took the steps two at a time. Dropping the wet fabric on the floor of my room, I grabbed the closest shirt from the closet and tugged it over my head, heading back downstairs as I adjusted the hem.

"In a bit of a hurry?" I heard North say as I approached him standing next to the couch in the living room. I frowned and watched his eyes trail down my chest. "It's inside-out."

"Oh. Heh, I wasn't paying attention." Rolling my eyes, I reached for the hem and yanked it back off, fiddling with the shirt to turn it right-side out, checking to make sure the tag was in the proper position. I caught him smirking as I pulled it back on, adjusting it. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"So, I have beer, you want one?" I crooked a finger towards the kitchen and he nodded, following after me, keeping a few feet behind me. Upon reaching the kitchen I bee-lined for the fridge, pulling it open. "Domestic or import?"

"Surprise me," he said. I glanced over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at him as he settled onto a stool at the counter.

"You seem like a domestic guy to me," I observed, pulling a bottle from a shelf. I grabbed the magnetic bottle opener from the fridge door and popped it open, handing to him. He smiled.

"You nailed it." He took a sip as I grabbed myself a bottle of the same, opening it. I tossed the bottle caps into the trash and leaned against the counter, raising the bottle. He raised his and we tapped them together.

"Cheers," I said, taking a sip.

"Cheers."

"So, do you live around here?"

North shook his head. "I'm probably ten miles or so east. When I take a walk, I really commit."

"Yeah, I guess so. Do you need a ride or anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Walking helps clear my head. Besides, you don't get to meet people when driving in cars." He winked at me and I smiled, not sure what to say to that.

"I guess not."

He took another sip and I caught myself staring at his extremely well-defined cheekbones. I felt my cheeks flush as his eyes flickered towards me and quickly turned away, setting my beer down on the counter. "Uh, I've actually got a lot of work to do—"

"I can get out of your way," North said, obviously catching on. He picked up his beer and drained the rest of it quickly, making a satisfied sound as he pulled the now-empty bottle away from his lips. "Thanks again," he said, handing me the bottle. I took it and tossed it into the small recycling bin next to the trash can underneath the sink.

"Not a problem. Are you sure you don't want a ride?"

"Really, I'm fine." He stood up and came around the side of the counter, stopping a couple of feet away from where I was standing. He stuck his hand out and I smiled, taking it in mine, shaking it.

"All right. Get home safe. Nice to meet you."

"You too. I can see myself out."

I nodded and watched him exit the kitchen, hearing the front door open a few seconds later. I listened to it close and glanced to my own beer, still sitting on the counter, neglected, a slight layer of condensation forming on the label.

I didn't think I'd ever see the guy again, but apparently fate had other things in mind and we ran into each other three weeks later at the grocery store, literally colliding in the frozen food aisle.

"Dude, watch it," I snapped as someone backed into me with their basket, nearly crushing my fingers between the heavy glass door I'd let go of.

"Shit, sorry," someone said. I stood from where I'd been crouched, trying to debate on a flavor of ice cream from the ones available in the case. Catching a glimpse of platinum blonde hair I frowned, tapping the person on the shoulder.

"What, I said I was sorry—oh, hi!" Sure enough, it was North who turned around, the irritated look on his face quickly being replaced with pleased recognition as his eyes widened. "Uh—Sean, right?"

"York," I corrected. "But yes. How are you?"

"Good! Yourself?"

I wiggled my fingers. "Intact, barely. You've gotta watch where you're going with that basket, man."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Eh, it's fine. What are you doing here? I thought you said you lived really far east."

"I do, but—well, okay, this is going to sound stupid." North smiled as he readjusted his grip on his basket. "I saw this brand of ice cream in your bag, and I haven't been able to find it anywhere else. I remembered the logo of the store on the bag and figured I'd try this place. I've actually been here a few times already, I kind of stress-eat," he admitted, looking embarrassed.

I laughed. "What a coincidence, so do I." I pointed to the cookies in my basket and he chuckled, and I saw the skin around his eyes crinkle as his smile grew wider.

"Do you want to get lunch, or are you busy?" he asked, checking his watch.

"I have time. Let me just finish getting my stuff and I'll meet you out front in, what, fifteen minutes?"

"Sounds good." He headed the opposite way down the aisle and I hurried away towards the laundry detergent aisle to get the rest of my groceries, doubling back a second later to grab the ice cream I'd forgotten.

We started hanging out a lot after that chance encounter at the grocery store. After lunch we exchanged phone numbers, and he actually called me a week later, asking if I wanted to watch a movie. Agreeing, I'd assumed he'd meant at the theater, so when he showed up at my house, DVD in hand, I was a little taken aback.

But sitting next to each other on the couch, legs touching just slightly, his arm draped over the back of the couch just inches from my shoulders, I decided the surprise wasn't really that bad.

I haven't always been into guys. It's really not about that, anyway. I'm more about the personality of someone than their physical looks. While most of my friends in college were busy chasing after sorority girls, I was hanging out with the science 'nerds,' crushing on the head of the robotics team, a somewhat small young boy with wild blue hair, dyed in a fit of rage after a robot he'd been working on blew up and he had no other outlet to express his anger other than a tin of blue dye and a hatred of his naturally blonde hair. We spent hours sitting in front of schematics as he tried to explain things to me, usually giving up as he lost his concentration due to me running my fingers through his hair, whispering things that I wanted to do to him.

There was also the girl that, I admit, I'm still a little in love with. First job out of college, a bagboy at the large chain supermarket, she was my supervisor, and I was obsessed with her long, vibrant red hair and bright green eyes. Sure, it was probably more of a power thing, seeing as she could have crushed me like a bug (and she did, on a couple of drunken occasions that I'll cherish forever), but underneath all the bravado, she was really sweet and kind and I loved arguing with her over stupid shit that didn't matter. Besides, she had the softest lips I've ever had the pleasure of kissing, she loved it when I tugged on that beautiful scarlet hair, and I was more than willing to oblige.

North and I…it was different. I didn't really know what we were doing. When we brushed up against each other, either by accident or me doing it on purpose, sometimes he recoiled, but sometimes he pressed back. We hung out a lot, but usually at my house, and only occasionally at his apartment (he'd just moved in and claimed it was a mess most of the time, but it seemed clean enough to me the few times I was ever allowed over). Which, honestly, was fine by me—my house had way more space, and usually more food, though North ate a lot when he came over, forcing us to go on shopping trips more often than I was used to.

"Hey," I said, my fingertips brushing against North's shoulder. We were sitting on my couch, my arm across the back this time, glancing at his feet propped up on the table in front of us. He was eating chips he'd poured into a bowl, and set it down on his lap as he looked up at me, using his other hand to fumble for the remote, pressing pause to halt the movie.

"Yeah?"

"So I'm totally going to sound like a girl here, but I've wanted to ask you a question for a while now." Which was true—it'd been nearly five months since we started hanging out, and while I could appreciate things moving slowly, it was driving me to the edge of my sanity to keep myself calm whenever he was around.

"Uh, okay." He leaned forward and set the bowl of chips on the table, turning to face me. He brought up his knee and folded his hands around it, smiling. "Shoot."

"Are we dating?"

The skin around his eyes wrinkled as his smile grew wider. "I thought we were."

"Then clue me in here—don't people who date actually, you know, date?"

"What do you think we're doing?"

"Honestly? I don't know." I exhaled and moved my hand down, carefully placing it on top of his hands covering his knee. When he didn't move away, I started spreading his hands apart with my fingers, mingling my hand and one of his together.

"It seems like you do."

"No, because it's been months and I don't really know what this is."

North sighed. "How many relationships have you been in?"

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Just answer the question."

I thought for a moment. "Since I'm not sure how you'd define 'relationship,' I'll go with…more than a dozen."

"Are you including one-night-stands and such?"

"Okay, more like…a couple dozen."

"Okay." North was quiet for a moment. When he finally spoke again, I felt my heartbeat increase. "I'm probably around the same, honestly."

"That's…good?"

"I'm thirty-one and haven't been in a relationship in a while," he said, "but a lot of mine moved too fast, and I got hurt more than I would have liked."

"Well, I'm thirty and I've been single for a couple of years, but I don't see where—"

"The point being, how many of those relationships actually lasted longer than a few months?"

I frowned. "I don't know…probably not many."

"What was the one that lasted the longest?"

"That would be…Jasika."

"Tell me about her."

I laughed. "How much am I going to owe you for the therapy session?"

"Sean."

Sighing, I shrugged. "Senior year of college. She was a friend of my roommate, I'd known her for a year or so. I chased after her for probably two months, she finally broke down and we started dating. Lasted nearly a year, and just after we graduated, she dumped me because she was moving across the country for a job."

"And why do you think that you guys lasted so long?"

"Because we were friends first—ohh." The reason for his questions finally dawned on me. "I get it now."

North squeezed my hand and I nodded. "Yeah, that's why I haven't pushed very hard. I didn't know if that's how you felt about me or not."

"Well…it is," I said quietly, smiling at him. He leaned forward and I could smell his cologne, inhaling deeply to appreciate the scent.

"Then do you think we're dating?" he said in a teasing tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Deciding to just take a chance, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his, half-expecting him to pull away, not really expecting him to push back and let go of my hand, sliding his hands across my waist to settle on my hips. Struggling to gain the upper hand, I parted my lips and slid my tongue across his lower lip, receiving no resistance as it met the tip of his own tongue. I heard him moan and I felt a rush of elation, giving me the confidence to slip my hands up underneath his shirt, pressing against his waist.

"Hang on," he gasped, and my hands froze as I felt my body stiffen.

"I'm sorry," I automatically said, brain kicking into overdrive as I started thinking of excuses to get out of the situation.

"No, it's just—" North shifted and sort of climbed halfway off the couch, getting back up on the cushion a second later, kneeling instead of sitting at the angle he was at before. "My leg was falling asleep."

"Oh." I watched as he brought his hands up to rest on my hips again, gripping the waist of my jeans to pull me forward. I fell onto my back as I slid across the couch, suddenly finding myself underneath him, looking up into his eyes, a playful smirk painted across his face. "Hey there," I said lamely, resisting the urge to smack myself in the head, instead moving my hands up to start unbuttoning his slacks. He'd showed up that afternoon at my house looking professional, black slacks and a royal purple button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was as if he'd known that was one of my turn-ons…

"Hey," he breathed, bending down again, and this time I let him have the advantage. I was too focused on trying to shove his pants down around his thighs to really appreciate the swirls he was painting with his tongue across the curve of my neck, and when my fingertips brushed across the bulge in his boxers, I sniggered, getting his attention.

"It's not nice to laugh," he said, sounding hurt.

"No, it's just—fuck, I appreciate you wearing matching boxers," I said, my fingers lightly touching the front of the fabric. "Shows you really care and all that, you know."

"I'll show you how much I care," he replied, laughing as he reached down with one hand, grabbing one of mine to firmly push it inside the waistband of his boxers while his other hand slid down the front of my own pants, his fingers dancing around my own erection. I tilted my head and our lips met again; I pushed with my upper body and caught him off guard, forcing him upwards a bit as I sat up, moving out from underneath him as I noticed he was breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded.

Having gone from not sure if we were in a relationship to nearly fucking on my couch in the span of ten minutes, I wasn't going to complain about the look of lust in North's face. Unable to stand it any longer, I reached up with my left hand and hooked it behind his head, kissing him deeply as I moved my other hand underneath his boxers, pulling the fabric away. He leaned back and I straddled him, a slight feeling of regret pinging through my chest as his hand pulled out from underneath my waistband to reach up and under my shirt, tweaking my nipple. The regret quickly dissipated and I groaned, wrapping my fingers around his cock, squeezing gently.

"Fuck, York," North gasped as my hand worked gently yet quickly, and I couldn't stop myself from grinding against his hips as I stroked him, relishing the ragged moans spilling from his lips. I swept my thumb over the slit, catching a bit of precome that I wanted to lick away, but settled for biting his lower lip. He continued playing with my nipple, pinching it slightly, but I could tell he was already close by the way his hand was distracted, his fingers scratching along my chest, his breathing becoming erratic.

"Tell me what you want," I whispered, feeling his mouth working to form words in between kisses.

"I want—fuck, I'm gonna—"

"You gonna come for me?" I said, an edge to my voice that I couldn't keep out; my own cock was trapped painfully in my jeans, but this was his time, not mine.

"York—" A second later I watched his eyes squeeze shut and felt a familiar warm sensation in my hand as he released, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. Hips bucked against my hand as I worked him through it, kissing the corner of his mouth, still whispering words that I couldn't even remember the moment I said them. Finally his body went slack and I smiled against the crook of his neck, chuckling as his breathing returned to somewhat normal levels.

"Was that good for you?" I asked, my hand still wrapped around his cock. I didn't really know where else to put it.

"Uh. Yeah. Good." North could barely form words, it seemed, and his eyes finally opened, a smile spreading across his face. "I think it's your turn."

"No, I'm—really, it's fine," I defended, awkwardly climbing off the couch, pulling my hand out of his boxers. I heard the elastic snap back into place as I reached for a spare paper towel from our earlier lunch, wiping my hand as clean as I could get it. I looked back to see him looking upset, tugging his pants back on.

"Are you…upset?" he asked, and I thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to answer when I didn't really know what I wanted to say.

"No, not upset," I replied, running my clean hand through my hair, scratching the back of my neck. "Just… confused. And kind of concerned."

"About what?"

"That I just really fucked things up."

I watched him stand up and take a step towards me, shaking his head. "You're fine." His hands were on my shoulders, pulling me in for a kiss before I realized what was happening. I vaguely registered one of his hands moving down my arm but I definitely felt his fingers digging underneath the waist of my jeans a second later, wiggling past the band of my own boxers. Though it had taken the opportunity to soften a bit, my cock still twitched at the touch of his fingers rubbing along the length.

"North—"

"Shh." He put a finger to my lips and kissed around it, moving his hand away at the same time his other one began to stroke me, and I felt his tongue slip between my lips, massaging my own tongue. I melted into his touch and we continued kissing as his free hand slid down my chest and caught the waistband of my jeans and boxers, shoving them downwards. I felt them pool around my ankles and closed my eyes, trying not to moan too loudly even though his fingers were just about the most talented thing I'd ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

I realized we were no longer kissing a moment after we stopped but as I opened my eyes, I saw a flash of his blonde hair near my waist. Warm lips were suddenly pressed to the tip of my cock and I let out a loud gasp, white spots flashing in front of my eyes just briefly. I moaned his name as his mouth enveloped my cock, his hand sliding up my thigh to lightly brush his fingertips against the underside of my balls, causing me to moan even more loudly and incoherently. Unable to help myself, I bucked my hips and felt the back of his throat constricting around me. That alone was nearly enough to push me over the edge but I fisted my hands in North's hair and pulled out halfway, trying to give him some air, and was met with humming that vibrated my entire cock, turning my knees to jelly.

"Hmm?" he murmured, wrapping his hand around my balls, giving them a firm squeeze.

"Fuck!" I shouted, bucking again, feeling his tongue swirling around the shaft. He continued the pace for a minute, occasionally humming, which just caused me to babble random words bookended by his name. After another couple of minutes he pulled off with a pop and grinned up at me.

"Feeling better?"

"Seriously?!" I pulled him up by the hair and mashed my lips to his, his hand wrapping around my cock a second later. He continued jacking me off as I moaned into his mouth, promises of blowjobs and fucking and anything I could think of, and within half a minute I was lost, coming into his hand with a shout and a moan mixed together, sagging against him, my face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

"So I guess that's a yes."

"Fuck you," I managed to mutter, laughing as I felt him chuckle.

It didn't take long to fall into a steady rhythm after that. One of us would invite the other over for lunch, a movie, just to hang out, and most times we would fall into bed, or on the couch, or one time, on the kitchen floor (I'd just mopped and was turned on by North offering to filthy it again).

It had been over a year since my last relationship, and North was amazing at filling that void. We held hands nearly everywhere we went, and even a couple of the checkers at the grocery store knew us by name, we were there so often. North started taking cooking classes and often surprised me by making exotic dishes, and I wasn't about to turn them down, so we had to shop fairly often.

Things seemed to be good for a few months. I was happy.

But, you know, things sort of have a habit of changing when you least expect them to. Even at seemingly normal places…like bookstores.

This is going to be a 3-part story, each part from someone else's POV, ending up in Wash/York/North. Next up: North.