(OT3VERSE): The OT3verse is an Alternative Universe where Sam, Raiden, and Rosemary are in a bisexual polygamous three-way relationship. Additionally, Sam works for Maverick instead of Desperado. The majority of the stories in the OT3verse revolve around Sam harassing Rose in some ridiculous (and often sexual) manner just to troll the hell out of Raiden for messing with his wife.

Some of the stories may contain bits and pieces of yaoi AKA slash/gay/homo/that thing where two guys are in love with one another.

Also, fair warning: the majority of the OT3verse stores depict Sam in a rather out-of-character manner.

Summary: Rosemary gets wifenapped (again) by one Jetstream Sam… for a threesome.

Rating: M for non-explicit almost sex

Genre(s): Humor/Romance

Rose was practically secreting domestic toxins into the stratosphere the way she was, apron-clad and hovering over a tomato-filled chopping board, waiting for her husband to return home. Now if only she was good at cooking. Then she would complete the 'stereotypical housewife' model.

The front door unlocked and whooshed open.

"Welcome home, honey!" she called absentmindedly. And then it hit her.

The strides heading towards her were not the strides of her husband.

Samuel Rodrigues paraded into the kitchen, gallant as fuck, looking like he just won the award for the world's largest asshole. Rose was armed—she has a kitchen knife in hand, but shit if he cared. Sam picked Rose up from where she was standing, folded her over his shoulder, and carried her up the staircase like a sack of potatoes.

Rose screamed like a little girl the entire time, but that was to be expected. Yes, she had said, yes, she had agreed to a threesome with Sam but this was absurd.

As the first-floor living room disappeared out of Rose's sight, she managed to catch a glimpse of Jack rushing through the front door.

"Oh, for the—SAM!"

Jack's expression betrayed nothing but exasperation as he bounded up the stairs after them.

Sam flounced into her and Jack's bedroom and tossed her into the heart of the bed. Rose immediately sat up, looking like the textbook definition of disheveled. Her hair was a mess. One of her slippers had fallen off in the commotion. And she still had her kitchen knife grasped tightly in her clutches.

Sam wasn't even in civilian clothing; he was clad in his battle suit, some sort of exoskeleton saturated in various shades of olive green and tan. His sword hung squarely at his hip, which he detached from his belt by the sheath and placed delicately on the vanity stool.

Sam grinned at her suggestively, his eyes vibrant and full of life. There was no trace of that passive personality he had shown to her so many times before.

It was around that time Jack burst into the bedroom. Jack took one look at Sam, saw the way Sam was staring at her, and tackled the Brazilian to the ground.

The two broke into an all-out wrestling match on the floor of the master bedroom. Piercing the grunts and huffing were clips of phrases like "I didn't say 'yes' to you sleeping my wife!" and responses such as "That…wasn't…implied?!".

Jack managed to hook Sam in the jaw, signaling that things were about to take a turn for the serious if the challenging glare that Sam shot back was anything to go by.

"Stop!" she screamed, "Cease! Enough!"

Barbarians fighting in her bedroom, she couldn't take it anymore.

Yet, it was…refreshing to see Jack like this, so bold and powerful. For too long she was only able to see the delicate side of Jack, one where he tried to restrain himself out of fear of hurting her. At first, it was a grateful welcome to the abuse she had experienced at his hands before, but nearly half a decade later, having her husband treat her like a delicate wallflower on a constant 24/7 basis was frustrating.

The men broke apart. Both their gazes focused on Rose, waiting for her next set of instructions to kick them out.

Rose took a breath.

"… …how are we going to do this?"

…

Never in a thousand years did Rose imagine that one day there would be a naked Brazilian man kneeling on her mattress, swathed in her clean linen sheets with his hands placed patiently on his lap as he waited for the couple to undress.

Both she and her husband were sort of just awkwardly lingering there, unsure of where or how to begin.

Rose couldn't help but avert her eyes away from Sam. Seeing another man's nude body was venturing into black moral territory for a married woman such as herself. Sam was hairy. He was well-built, even if his muscles weren't as well-defined as her husband. She hoped there would be no pissing contests. In terms of size, Jack was longer; Sam was thicker.

Sam leaned into her face, shadowing her lips with his own—only to get shoved out of the way by Jack's palm.

"You don't get to kiss her," Jack growled.

Jack was possessive, Rose realized distantly with amusement. She had always been somewhat aware of her husband's possessive side, but witnessing this was a fresh reminder.

Sam heaved a sigh and bared the whites of his eyes.

"Lay it out, Jack. What can I do with your wife?"

The expression Jack returned suggested he'd rather just have Sam sit there.

"If Jack won't let me kiss you, then he ought to just kiss you."

Jack glared at Sam. Nevertheless, he took heed of those words and shifted towards her, capturing her lips with his own in a gentle kiss. Rose returned the kiss for a few moments—and then abruptly broke off with a quiet 'sorry', leaving Jack in a state of confusion.

"…is there a problem, senhora?" Sam questioned, having caught the hesitance in Rose's face.

Rose flashed an awkward smile, glanced away and mumbled something. There was no problem. She was just going to go through with an act reserved between married partners while another man watched on.

"If it makes you more at ease, we can do it together."

Her startled reaction was matched by an equally incredulous and somewhat annoyed look from Jack. Rose rounded to the Brazilian with a dubious expression; was that just some tongue in cheek remark to coax out a laugh?

But no, Sam was serious. He replied to her startled reaction with a look of serious earnest, patiently waiting for the message to sink into her brain. Then, without warning, Sam leaned toward Jack and locked him in a deep kiss. Her husband's eyes widened and he let out a protest which quickly transformed into a moan.

"Your turn," Sam told her silkily once he broke the kiss.