Hey guys! Thanks so much for waiting on me. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!
"Does it make you mad?" John asked me, his breath plumed around his face in smoky billows.
"Does what make me mad?" I craned my neck to look at him while we walked, sure to keep enough distance between us.
"Knowing that I can't put my arm around you to keep you warm while we walk, that I can't kiss your cheek when we wait to cross the street."
"I suppose it does."
"It makes me so mad I could spit."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you want me to do about that."
"Nothing really can be done. Just the circumstances." He shrugged it off and held the door down to the speakeasy for me to follow him.
"Heya, Barney." John clapped the bouncer on the shoulder.
The big man grumbled some sort of a greeting in response and John started setting things up for the night. He tied his long curls back and I couldn't help but laugh at the curl that immediately hung over his eyes. He worked to tally the inventory and held a pencil between his teeth, bent over the bar, whispering the order under his breath. I swallowed hard at the sight of him in the low gas lights.
"Laf's coming tonight." He told me absentmindedly that around the pencil.
"He is?" my heart fluttered, in the two weeks since the night that we'd all spent tangled around one another, I'd only seen him once or twice, John always claiming that he wanted to let John and I get to know one other better before getting too involved.
"They're playing tonight. I'm excited for you to finally hear his band. They're pretty good. He's the best, though. You don't usually hear a cello in a jazz band."
I loved the way John's eyes sparkled when he talked about Lafayette. In our closed, little system, John was the binding factor which meant that when I saw how much he loved Lafayette it made me fall for the other man more for myself. Who couldn't love somebody whose name alone could dot John's cheek with dimples and make him giggle like the drunk girls in his bar?
"When will he get here?" I asked.
"Probably not for another hour or so. You want something?"
"Can you make me a drink like he does?"
He rolled his eyes and turned around to start fixing my cocktail, "how do I find myself with not one but two men who can't drink?"
An arm slung around my shoulder, "my love, are you saying I cannot handle my alcohol?"
I looked up to see Lafayette behind me. His arm settled on my chest and he rested his chin on the top of my head, holding his cello case in his other hand.
John turned around and grinned like starlight at Lafayette, his nose crinkling with the intensity of his smile, "I'm just saying you both drink like little girls. Not everything has to be syrupy."
Lafayette shrugged, "food and drink should be enjoyed, non?"
John giggled and doubled the drink that he was making for me, pouring it into two glasses and handed one to each of us before pecking Lafayette on the lips, "here you go, kids."
"Thank you, my love," he sat on the stool beside me and set his cello upright on the other side, "and how are you amour de mon cœur?"
I smiled to myself, heart of my love, that was such an endearing way to look at what we were to each other. Even though we were spending so much time as a trinity, it was still John, it would always be John that wove our hearts together.
"I'm fine, Laf, and how are you?" my hand covered the one of his on my chest.
"I could not be better. I get to play music for my two favourite people. Nothing else sparks my heart like this can."
"Nothing else pays our rent like it either." John teased.
"That may be a contributing factor. Though you've been doing rather well for yourself lately. Perhaps it is your talent in preparing 'little girl drinks'?"
We drank and chatted, John leaning over the bar toward us, a hand holding one of mine and Lafayette's respectively. Between sips of his cocktail, Lafayette's free hand rested on my thigh. We were a system. It stayed like this until people started to trickle in and John got to work, he spun bottles at the girls, and they clapped and giggled, the fringe of their dresses shaking. I noticed him roll his eyes when he'd turn to face the shelves.
"Showtime, cher," Lafayette pulled my chin closer to himself and kissed me, our stubble coarse and gripping.
"Go get 'em."
I sipped at the pale cocktail John had made me and watched Lafayette tie his hair high into a perfectly round puff on the top of his head while the rest of the band tuned their instruments. They laughed with one another and I listened to his laugh over the sound of the accumulating crowd. John's laugh was like tinkling bells, Lafayette's, though, was like waves lapping at a rocky beach. I sipped my drink again and shifted in my seat. John was distracted by orders coming in, he flirted and schmoozed, none of it was real, though. I knew what real John flirting looked like. It looked like the hooded glances that he gave Lafayette over the dinner table or shaking his curls off of his face at me. I shifted in my seat again.
"Got ants in your pants, babydoll?" John whispered in my ear, letting his hot breath ghost the shell.
"No ants, just a stiffy." I smirked and felt heat rise to my cheeks.
He stepped up on the ledge of the bar and bent over it to look at my lap, "I'd have to agree. Want me to take you in the backroom?"
"John, no, that's crazy."
He giggled the tinkling bells and said over his shoulder, "'course it is, I'm working, but it was worth it just saying, 'cause now just look at you squirming like a wiggle worm."
I knew that he was right. This was real John flirting, exciting me just to stare. The band started and I watched them play. Laf's eyes closed and his body swayed in the seat behind his cello, his large hands fretting the neck. I swallowed hard. They did sound good, delightfully unconventional, like so much of my life had become and I enjoyed it. John sat on the bar and watched Lafayette along with me. He rubbed my shoulders and whispered jokes in my ear about the people dancing.
"Why, you wanna dance?" I looked up and asked him.
"I don't think you can keep up with me." There was a glint in the gold strands of his eyes.
"I know I can't, but it sure sounds like fun to try." I fired back.
He slid across the bar and hopped onto the floor beside me, "let's go, then."
I let him lead and he started off simple, finding time with the music, I copied his footwork, easy enough to do. He twisted his hips and I lost count of where I was, he caught me and bobbed his head in time to help me find the beat. I stepped in time with him. He was a phenomenal dancer. I nearly fell flat on my back as he kicked a leg clear over my head. We were amassing a crowd, everyone delighted to see their darling bartender dancing so incredibly. He whipped me in a circle and I threw my head back in laughter as he circled me, his hands on my chest and then quickly on my back. He found his steady pace again, no longer showing off, stepping and twisting back and forth. I chuckled to myself at the sound of a sour cello note, but just a single sour note. Lafayette was a professional, even while distracted with John. Others joined us and danced wildly, none of them possessed the same finesse that he did. He twirled the ladies that got too close by their fingertips, but his eyes never left mine.
Eventually, the music flourished and the song ended. I was out of breath and wiped my damp brow. John pecked a kiss on my cheek and squeezed me tight in his arms on our way back to the bar. I sat and finished my drink while he poured himself a few fingers of whiskey.
"I knew you'd be good, but chrissakes." I shook my head in disbelief.
"Baby, I'm from Charleston, that's my dance."
"Oh… well, I suppose it makes sense that you trip the light fantastic," I teased him.
He winked at me and shook his head, starting to fix customers their drinks. Eventually, the band took a break. Lafayette shook hands in the crowd and made his way over to us.
"You want something to drink, love?" John asked him, leaning in to kiss him.
He nodded and leaned against my back, holding my hands up against my chest. I could feel the indents from the strings on his fingers.
"How do you like the music?" Lafayette whispered in my ear.
I shivered against his warm breath, "it's beautiful."
"Will you come home with us tonight? I want to be with you both."
"Okay." I smiled up at him.
John slid two drinks across the bar at us and kissed Lafayette again. Laf tucked that stray curl behind John's ear and cupped his cheek before gliding back through the crowd to the stage. John watched him walk away and sighed, he took my hands in his.
The band began again and we watched, enthralled. At a break in the music, Lafayette stood from his cello and stepped in front of the microphone. I wondered if he could sing, too.
"I'd like to dedicate this next song to Alex." He raised his glass toward me and I felt heat crawl over my cheeks.
The band played again, played for me, and I swayed in my seat for the duration.
As the night drew to a close John began to work to shut the bar down and once the crowds started to file out he began to count the cash. Lafayette and the band packed up their equipment and then counted their own tip jar, sharing the pot. John gave them a small cut of the profit and set some aside for the doorman. I waited with them.
"I'm going to go home and start the fire, it is going to be cold in the flat." Lafayette decided.
"We'll be right behind you." John said between counting.
"I was… wondering if Alexander might want to come along with me?"
I looked at John, he shrugged, "you don't answer to me, go with Laf if you want."
The cop in me took over, "but you'll have all the money with you, if something happens-"
He cut me off, "-please, Laf's way more vulnerable than I am. I'm a good fighter, too."
"I am not vulnerable." Lafayette said cooly.
"My love, you know what I mean." John soothed him and he relented.
"I'll walk with you, Lafayette." I took his hand, feeling brave, I knew we'd be alone for a while before John came along.
We said our goodbyes to John and set off into the frigid night. Lafayette's strides were far longer than mine.
"I am glad that you came along with me." He grinned as we walked.
"Well, I want to get to know you better." A sense of determination rippled through me, I couldn't help how nervous he made me feel. I didn't know how he and John could both do it to me so easily.
"I want to know everything about you, mon petit."
I wrinkled my nose, "I'm really not that small."
"No, I suppose you are not, but you are delicate in my heart. That is not how I want to phrase it, but I lack the English to explain myself… I want to take care of you, Alexander."
"Take care of me? I take perfectly fine care of myself."
"Shh, there is nothing to defend. Maybe I am still not explaining myself so well as I want to be. Of course you do, but your shoulders look so tight after your hard work at a desk, weighed down with your guns, I want to rub them until they don't hurt you anymore. I want to prepare meals for you, I so love watching you fawn over my cooking. I want to hold you in my arms."
I thought about the night that he taught me to play his cello and just how good being in his arms had felt, and then his kisses and the way that he traced the lines of my body with his lips, falling asleep between him and John. I was trying to lean into this. Into the nerves of him wanting to be with me. I never wanted to just be John's, I couldn't deny that I wanted Lafayette as well and I wanted him in different ways than I wanted John. John was exciting and dangerous, he was exhilarating and charming, easy to love. Lafayette, however, was steadfast and soothing, refined and confident. With John as my equal counterpart, both of us hungry and cocky, Lafayette brought balance. I wanted to feel more balanced.
"Do you have anything to say?" Lafayette asked me softly.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to leave you hanging… I was just thinking. I like you a great deal more than I thought I would. Hell, I spent the first few weeks knowing John being terrified of you, but… I do like you as well. The kisses that we've shared, the way you make me feel when you hold me."
He exhaled heavily and laughed, "you made me nervous, cher."
"Good," I smirked at him, "maybe now you know how I feel all the time."
He unlocked the apartment door and let me inside first.
"May I make you some tea, Alex? Warm you?"
"Please," I nodded.
"Will you start the fire?"
I hung up my coat and squatted in front of the fireplace under the grand oil painting and started arranging the logs. Lafayette was in the kitchen clanging the tea kettle and china softly. I struck a match and set the fire to life. The room instantly grew warmer. To be sure that it would stay, I stoked it until one of the larger logs caught. Lafayette appeared with two delicate mugs.
"Thank you." I took the mug gratefully and sat on the couch.
"And thank you, I hate making fires, John does it so much better than I do."
"But you still volunteered to come do it?"
"Of course. I want him to be warm when he gets home. He works so hard, I want him to be able to just relax."
I sipped the tea, it was warm and spiced, cardamom and cloves, orange peel. Of course it was.
"So, who takes care of you, then?" I asked of Lafayette.
He smiled softly and sat beside me on the sofa, setting his mug on the end table, "I am taken care of by showing those that I love that I love them."
"I see," I stared quizzically at him.
Lafayette pulled my legs into his lap and gently took off my shoes, my toes felt frigid under their socks, "you're cold," he pulled the afghan that I'd first seen him sleeping under and covered us with it, before taking my feet back into his hands and starting to rub them.
"I'm… um… I'm on my feet a lot, they aren't very nice…" I stuttered, so damned nervous around him.
He hushed me, "relax, my sweetest one."
I took a deep breath and drank my tea while he rubbed my feet, letting out little moans and sighs as his thumbs dug into the balls of my feet. He hummed a tune to himself, to me, to no one in particular. I opened my eyes again and stared at the oil painting, a woman darker than Lafayette stared back at me, painted wearing a stunning ball gown, cinched at her waist, though she wasn't a terribly petite woman, and flowing elegantly to the ground. She was in an opulent room with a little dog at her feet.
"My maman." Lafayette noticed me looking at the painting.
"She's beautiful."
"She was the most beautiful woman in the world." He smiled sadly down at my feet.
"I miss my mom, too."
"The hurting never goes away, it becomes less."
"It does." I agreed.
"Your family died from a storm, you said?"
"That's the short version… no one really wants to hear the long version."
He reached over and combed my hair out of my eyes, "if you want to tell me, I would want to hear it. You do not have to hide anything from me, from us."
"My mother was sick before the storm… she died when I was a child, but I made it alright on my own… I had a brother, but he vanished in the storm and I can't remember when I last saw my father. I was young… that all sort of blended together, like. When the storm happened, it killed almost everyone else that I knew, it devastated everything, the entire island."
He softly asked for more information, "how did you make it here?"
"I had a cousin here in New York, I got put on a ship and there you have it. He was a good guy, but he took the big sleep… killed himself."
Lafayette stopped rubbing my feet, "that's horrible. I am so sorry."
"It happens. Enough about my sob story, what happened to your parents?"
"The war was about to start, the tensions were rising and my parents sent me to live in Louisiana with my grandmother. They were afraid that our family would be a… target, is how you say? Because we have money and a title, they did not want me to be there if the occupation took footing. I never heard from them again and then my grandmother received word that they had attempted to escape and their ship was taken down by the Germans, everyone aboard perished."
He took a sip and looked back down at my feet.
"I'm sorry." I chewed at my lip.
"How is your tea?" He smiled, wanting to change the subject.
"It's delightful. Thank you."
He sipped his own but then continued rubbing my feet, his fingers now warmed by the mug.
The door flung open with John's exuberance and he shivered with a whoop, "damn, it's cold as hell out there." He started to pull his cold weather gear off and hung it on the hook by the door.
Once he was down to his regular clothes he kissed Lafayette and knelt by the fire, "feels so good, thank you, sweetheart."
"Alexander made the fire."
"What do you know about that! Thank you, then, Alex." He stuck his hands near the flame for a moment and then came over to kiss me.
"How did you do tonight?" Lafayette asked.
John sat beside me on the sofa and I leaned back into him, "not too bad. Couple centuries. The band that played tonight always draws a crowd."
"You flatter me." Lafayette winked at him.
"Did you fellas have fun?"
"We were just talking." I assured him.
"Waste of damned time if you ask me. I mean, look at the two of you!"
"You're ridiculous, mon amour." Lafayette shook his head.
"Let's go to bed." John pleaded.
"Desperate." I teased, but the three of us turned tail for the bedroom.
Once in the cool room we disrobed and slid under the heavy blankets, John in the middle, cuddled into the crook of Lafayette's arm, I took my place against John's chest and he stroked my hair.
"Thanks for coming home with us." John kissed the top of my head.
"It's really my pleasure." I felt my cheeks redden against him.
"Laf's done nothing but talk about you after we fooled around that night."
"It is true. The meals that we have shared since that night have paled in comparison." Lafayette agreed from the other side of the bed.
I couldn't understand what it was that they saw in me. John rolled to face me and his lips were on mine in an instant, his kisses were always urgent, fervent, excited as my own were. I returned his affections in earnest and tasted his tongue with my own and wrapped his long curls around my fingers, tugging him closer to me. He moaned low in his throat, reverberating against my tongue.
The sounds of shuffling at the other side of the bed and John's sudden, jerking movements reminded me that Lafayette wasn't touching me. I needed him as well.
"That is not fair, put him in the middle, John." Lafayette grumbled, seeming to hear my thoughts.
John slid around me and I found myself flanked by both of them. The sensation of the two of them was overwhelming, felt complete, what I had been missing in my kiss with John now had the balance of Lafayette. He began kissing his way across my collarbones as John lapped at the hollow of my jaw. I whimpered and reached through the darkness for both of them, running my hands over John's perfect abs, my other hand tight on Lafayette's bicep. John gripped me by my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my throat. Lafayette took advantage of this and lapped at my adam's apple. I pushed back against John, enamored with the dual sensations of the two of them. I felt John spread my legs and feel deeply for my warmth. He softly prodded the tight pucker of my opening and started to relax me against his touch. I felt like I was on fire and falling from great heights at the same time. There were slick noises behind me that I ignored, leaning forward into Lafayette who was holding me and pressing kisses to my chest.
"Come here, baby." John whispered in my ear, pulling me back into his lap and lowering me down, still faced away from him. He was hard and ready but took me slowly, letting my body adapt to the strain.
Lafayette teased at my nipples and as John lowered me down the rest of the way dropped his head to my own stiffy, dragging his lips over the tight, sensitive skin. I cried out, the sound echoing in the room.
"Yeah, baby," John nipped at my ear, "love that sound. You like this?"
"I do." I struggled to speak, the words catching in my throat.
Lafayette finally wrapped his mouth around my girth and sucked deeply. I wanted to snap my legs shut against the intensity, but John's big hands were behind my knees, pulling them out to the sides and back by my chest. There was so much. My whole body was alight, filled deep with John behind me, feeling the ridges of Lafayette's throat in front of me. I reached down and gripped Lafayette's hair, needing to grasp something to bind me to reality. John released one of my legs which dropped heavily against Laf's back, he nuzzled his cheek against my thigh, never breaking his stroke. When I looked back down, John had taken Lafayette's hand, Lafayette gently stroking the back of John's in time with the motions of him mouth on me.
We were a connected unit in this moment, cogs in a machine, all of us touching one another, feeling one another. John hoisted my leg higher and his movements became deeper and needier, less predictable. I stared down at his hand gripping Lafayette's and felt him release into me and dropped my head against his chest.
He panted and turned his attention to satisfying me, worrying my nipple between his finger and his thumb. With another swallow I let myself go in Lafayette's mouth and was soothed by the swallowing moan before Laf surfaced again.
He licked his lips and stared at me, eyes full of want, "you are exquisite."
"Do you want me, too?" I asked him.
"Of course I do, but I worry that that is too much work on you, I want you to have time to recover."
John slid out from behind me and sat waiting on his knees at my side, "c'mon, love, at least let his blow you, it's… incredible, you're missing out."
Lafayette looked at me, waiting for some sort of cue from me, I nodded eagerly and lie down, letting Lafayette lean over me, his knees on either side of my shoulder. John straddled my hips, amusing me.
Before I had a chance to take Lafayette into my mouth he cried out for John, I didn't let him catch his breath and tried to swallow him whole. It was a challenging feat, he was larger than John and thicker, too, but I was determined. He bucked back and forth between John and I. He tasted delightful and was so warm, in the afterglow of my own satisfaction I was dizzy with my own enjoyment. John's hand found my waist and caressed it. I reached up and latched onto his wrist. Again, we were all connected, a part of a machine that ran so smoothly with our three components working together.
As I sucked at Lafayette I wondered how it had taken me so long to accept this, how I could have denied myself this degree of satisfaction for so long. They were all that I wanted, this was all that I wanted. I had never known pleasure to the degree that I'd found it in this evening, so pure and deep, unending. John moaned from behind Lafayette and Lafayette bucked hard into me, my throat burning from the sensation as he spilled down the back of it. He gasped and dropped to his elbows. John left me first, and then Lafayette toppled over onto his back.
John wiped his mouth as I did and smirked at me, dropping to kiss me. He tasted different, but still so good. He chuckled and pulled away, "he tastes so good on you."
I smirked back, "me? Please, he tastes so good on you."
Lafayette moved slowly, tired from our night of activities and the leftover alcohol in our bodies, he pulled John against him and John followed suit pulling me against himself. We said our goodnights and shared final kisses, John and Lafayette's lasting a little bit longer. I curled into John's side and slept against the warmth of his chest.