A/N: hi friends! coming at you with a new fic that was co-written by myself and melissaeverdeen13 - if you've ever been curious about what a throuple between jackson, april and alex would like you've come to the right place! enjoy and please don't forget to review :)
ALEX
April Kepner just fucking decked a guy.
From the looks of it, she's drunk, which would explain her haphazard attempt at punching a guy a foot taller than her, and then proceeding to jump on him after he punched Avery.
He tries to stop her, but she slips out of Jackson's hold and attacks the guy again, yelling something about her 'big brain'.
From my spot in the lobby, I see Webber at the reception desk, turning towards the commotion we can both hear from the adjoining restaurant. I drop my bags and move quickly towards them - why I feel the sudden urge to help Kepner out when she's the one starting shit is beyond me - and slip between the guy and Kepner, separating them just as Webber reaches us.
Webber's lecture seems to sober her slightly, the crowd around us quickly scattering. Kepner's in my arms, Jackson holding by the wrist and assessing her punching hand. She's sagging in my hold; adrenaline fading fast, alcohol starting to weigh her down.
"Your hand looks fine, thankfully." Jackson sighs, "Seriously, April, what the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten hurt."
April shrugs, "He was annoying." she slurs, "I'm sorry you got hurt."
Jackson shakes his head, "I'm fine, sweets."
Her hand brushes his cheek, and he smiles down at her; the tender moment makes my stomach roll, "If you're going to stare lovingly into each other's eyes all night, then fucking hold her yourself." I lift April towards Jackson and he takes her against his chest, holding her up by the waist.
"Thanks, man." He fist bumps me and I watch as he tries to lug April towards the elevator, her eyes closed and body noncompliant. How much did she have to drink?
Jackson tries to lean her against him so he can grab their stuff sitting on the bar counter, and I sigh, grabbing it for him and walking to where I left my luggage, "come on."
I hear his sigh of relief behind me but I don't acknowledge it - all I'd wanted to do tonight was drown my sorrows in the mini bar and forget all about this fucking day, instead I've got Kepner's handbag in one hand, and now her arm around my shoulder so I can help Jackson get her into the elevator.
"She's going to be fucked for tomorrow." I grumble.
"She didn't drink that much," Jackson chuckles, "Alcohol just makes her sleepy." The way he says it is, soft and awe-struck, like April being a drowsy lightweight is the most adorable thing in the world. That feeling in my stomach hits again - not disgust, something ugly in me that I can't quite label. There's a tiny voice in the back of my head that wants to call it envy, but I ignore it. Jackson and April's 'friendship' is not something to be envious of - the two of them are fucking idiots when it comes to how they feel about each other, but Mer says I'm seeing things that aren't there, so I don't say shit about it.
Jackson takes Kepner's bag when we reach her hotel door, which means she ends up leaning against me, her head burrowing against my chest and she hums like … like she enjoys my warmth. It's a weird sensation, one I don't get caught up thinking about because Jackson starts groaning.
"April, where's your key?"
She mumbles nothing discernible and Jackson shakes his head, "Check her back pocket, she always sticks her cards in there."
I shake my head. I'm not about to reach into Kepner's back freaking pocket, no matter how good her ass looks in her jeans. If I wanted to feel someone up tonight, I wouldn't be doing it here, with her.
Jackson drops the bag on the floor, shaking his head, his hand reaching into April's back pockets one at a time, frowning, "She must've dropped it somewhere. I've got the spare in my room, wait here." He walks off before I can protest, irritating me further. I can't wait for this fucking day to be over.
April stirs in my arms, her hands gripping my arms, head lifting up, chin coming to rest on my chest. I know she's frowning just from the tone of her voice, "You're not Jackson."
I stare straight ahead, at the hallway Jackson disappeared down a moment ago, "No shit." She tenses against me, and I have enough awareness to realise I'm being a dick to her for no reason, "We couldn't find your key, he's gone to his room to get the spare."
"Oh," she murmurs, "Okay. I-I'm sorry you got stuck with me."
"It's fine."
"If you say so." She lets out a heavy breath, the hot air tickling my neck as she slumps in my arms again, "how are you?"
The question surprises me enough to look down at her. Kepner's eyes feel like they're burning into me, but there's a sincerity there too, something that makes me want to clam up and shut down. "Fine."
Her face scrunches and she shakes her head, "You don't seem fine." She tilts her head further back, scrutinising me, "You seem sad."
I scoff, "I don't get sad, Kepner."
"Not true." She mumbles, "I remember how you were when Izzie left - you feel sadness, you just express it through anger."
Her words strike the centre of my chest with such accuracy, I almost bowl over. Annoyingly, she's not wrong. But I don't know how to admit that. For all of Kepner's annoying quirks, I'll admit she has a scary accuracy at reading people. I suppose when you spend most of your time being a wallflower, it's easy to figure people out - when no one notices you, it gives you the chance to see them with their walls down because they don't realise there's someone sneaking around your defences.
I don't know how to answer her. I am not a sit-and-talk-about-your-feelings kind of guy, I'm not like Avery; I don't trust her, or anyone, enough to be open about my feelings; even with Mer and Cristina, I don't let them in completely; vulnerability doesn't work out well for me, I learned that one with Izzie.
April's hand slides slowly up my chest, making its way to rest against my cheek. Her touch is soft, gentle, and warm. It feels comforting. I haven't felt like that in a long time.
"It's okay." April gives me a small smile, those two words speaking volumes. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. It's okay if today has been shit. It's okay to feel sad.
It's instinct, when my head tilts ever so slightly, needing to feel her touch deeply; to have that warmth spread further through me. There's a change in the air, a tension pulling between us; Kepner's fingers twitch against my cheek before her hand moves down, curling around the back of my neck, and before I can really process it I feel her tugging me towards her; she presses up on her toes, her face is so close to mine all of a sudden, eyes clearer than they were a few minutes ago.
How the fuck did this happen? She was saying she was tired not five minutes ago, and now she's in my arms, wide-eyed, biting on that bottom lip and looking like she's about to devour me. We've kissed before - that night in the call room before she changed her mind about having sex - but this feels different.
"Alex, wi-"
"I got it!" The moment dies as Jackson's voice echoes down the hallway. Kepner turns so fast she loses her balance, and I tighten my hold on her waist so she doesn't fall. Jackson's smile brightens the closer he gets to us, his eyes focused on the redhead in my arms.
"You okay, sweets?" Jackson frowns when he reaches us, brushing April's hair out of her face, "You're looking a little flushed.
"Yeah, I just- uh, the wine, you know?" She forces a laugh, but it's all wrong. I can tell she's still thinking about me- us, what we almost did.
I wonder how Jackson would've reacted if he'd seen it - it's clear he's got feelings for Kepner, and I know she's had a stupid school girl crush on him for-fucking-ever. His interruption was probably a blessing in disguise - I probably would've ended up trying to sleep with Kepner again, Jackson would've punched me again, and my night of drinking away this hell of a fucking day would've gone to shit.
Jackson unlocks the door, holding out his hand to guide her inside, and I let go of her waist and step back. Kepner grabs my arm before I can get far, "come inside." she turns to look at Jackson, "please?"
"You need to rest, tomorrow's an early start-"
"It's barely eight o'clock, grandpa. Come on, just come and hang out for a little bit. You're the one who said I needed to relax."
She's focused on Jackson, but her hand squeezes my arm, letting me know I'm included in this conversation. I don't understand what's happening right now. I have a valid reason to walk away - I didn't get a chance to check into my hotel room before Kepner decided to go full WWE on that dude downstairs - but I don't use it, I don't pull away from her, I don't stop myself from doing what feels like a huge mistake waiting to happen; I walk towards the hotel room, Kepner's hold on my arm dragging her along with me.
"You're paying for the minibar," I grumble and she smiles, sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed.
I hear the door close as I'm bent down emptying out the bar. With my hands full of tiny bottles, I turn and sit on the floor across from Kepner, Jackson sitting between us with his legs stretched out.
"So," I drop the bottles on the carpet and open one, the vodka burning my throat as I drain the bottle in one go, "what now?"
"Strip poker?" Jackson smirks.
Kepner shakes her head, "We don't have any cards."
"That's the only thing stopping you?" I scoff, "Kepner, when did you get so promiscuous?"
"Oh I'm just full of surprises, Karev." she meets my eyes and fucking winks. Who the hell is this girl? First she nearly kisses me in the hallway, now she's … flirting with me, I think. I can't tell if it's the wine, or she's actually wanting this. Wanting me.
"Truth or dare." Jackson says, looking between us, "Pretty harmless game."
"Depends on the dare." I say, and April giggles again.
"Pick one and find out," Jackson cocks a brow, "truth or dare, Karev?"
…
Two hours later, the miniature booze bottles are empty, the room's darkening because we forgot to turn the lights on, Jackson's spread flat on the floor between us, April's leaning halfway down, I've got a decent buzz going, and we're still playing truth or dare. It's been pretty tame so far, but every time Kepner picks dare there's a gleam in her eyes, like she wants one of us to push the invisible boundaries we've set; like she wants me to push. And the longer we sit here, playing this stupid game, the more temptation grows.
"This is getting boring," she whines, "I thought you two were party boys, how do you not have any better truths or dares to give?"
"Okay sweets, truth or dare?" Jackson asks.
"Truth," she says excitedly.
He opens his mouth to speak, but my words rush out before he gets a chance to even make a sound, "You ever kiss another chick?"
Her eyes go wide, jaw-dropped as she looks at me, and for a moment I think I might've crossed too far past the line. Jackson looks intrigued though, his eyes boring into her, anticipating her response.
"No," she says breathlessly, "but … I've always wanted to."
Jackson shoots up, "really?"
"Yeah," she bites her lip, cheeks tinting pink, "There's a lot of things I'm curious about, but I can't try."
"Why not?" I ask.
April shrugs, "It's just not what I was raised to want. I don't know how to allow myself to want it."
"It sounds like you already want it, April." Jackson reaches his hand out, resting it atop hers, "It's okay to want things that are different. It doesn't make it bad or wrong."
"Fuck anyone who tells you what to do, Kepner." I bite out. I'm not good at giving advice, or reassuring people, but I sure as shit am not gonna let anybody stop anyone from doing anything. "Do whatever the fuck you want, and fuck what anyone thinks."
She manages a small smile at that, shaking her head and sitting up further, like she's trying to shake away the bad thoughts plaguing her.
"What about you two, you ever kiss a guy?"
"Nope," I say, right as Jackson confesses, "My senior year, yeah."
Silence falls over us, April staring at Jackson as he looks nervously between the two of us, and that feeling in my stomach is back in full force. What. the. fuck. April snaps out of it first, bouncing up on her knees as she shakes his shoulders, "tell me everything."
JACKSON
In all honesty, kissing Noah Ceccarelli in senior year of boarding school was one of the last conversation pieces I expected to be brought up tonight. Before tonight, only two people knew that it even happened – me and Noah himself. As of now, though, April and Alex are in on the secret, too.
It's not a big deal. At least, I don't think so now. I did then. Back then, it freaked me out more than I'd like to admit.
But, in the spirit of admitting things tonight in this ever-shrinking hotel room, I might as well come out with the rest of the story.
"I mean, it just sort of happened," I say, leaning my weight back on my hands. I glance at April, who's sitting on my right, and Alex, who sits on my left.
"Did you like it?" April asks. Her voice is soft, high-pitched, and curious. Her eyes are lit with something I'm not quite sure of – but I am sure that my heart is starting to hammer, positioned between the two of them like I am.
"Yes," I say, turning my head slightly to make eye contact with Alex. I can't gauge his expression; all I can say is that it's not negative. "But I punched him in the face the next time I saw him."
When I say that, Alex laughs quietly, but he isn't raucous about it. April, on the other hand, frowns and asks why.
I lean back a little further, spreading my knees and making myself comfortable on the bed. "It freaked me out, I guess," I say, speaking slowly.
April crosses one leg towards me, positioning her body closer to mine. Gently and insanely slowly, she drags her fingernails up my arm until her hand lands in the middle of my chest. Then, she says with a lilting voice, "You'd never react like that now."
I turn my head until our noses are just centimeters apart, mine and April's. There's a pulsing beat of tension between us, then I break it by leaning in and kissing her full on the mouth.
I sit up straighter and hold her face with both hands for a moment, licking the seam of her lips so she'll part them for me – and, luckily, she does. I slip my tongue inside her mouth and she sighs into mine, going all melty like she tends to do when she's kissed like this, and I give into the urge to let my hands explore. Eventually, I find a good spot around her waist and yank her closer to me, which makes an erotic little sound escape her throat.
I push the fabric of her shirt up to expose her warm skin, then take a firm hold of her side with one hand – only for a moment, though. I don't waste much time before sliding that hand around and slipping it inside the back of her jeans, and then inside her underwear to grab her ass.
I let my other hand wander, though. I don't use it to grab more of April's body…instead, I reach behind me and grip Alex's upper thigh, wordlessly asking if he's willing to participate in whatever's happening tonight.
I wait for him to push my hand off or move away, but he does neither. Instead, he adjusts his hips and spreads his legs, inviting my hand higher until I reach the bulge stiffening and growing between his thighs. I don't rest there for long, though. Instead, I shift my focus back to April – but I don't miss the small, somewhat frustrated exhale that escapes Alex when my hand leaves him.
April's body is one that I know. Maybe not expertly, but better than Alex's, so I feel comfortable shifting her to sit in the middle of the two of us. Once she's there, leaning against the side of the bed as the three of us are still on the floor, she looks at me with a hungry expression – her pupils blown so far that her green eyes look black.
I lean in again and kiss her slowly, palming one of her breasts as I go. I missed touching her like this; I had almost forgotten the way she melts when the right buttons get pressed, the way her nipples feel straining through her bra and her shirt, and how handsy she gets when she's horny. Right now, she has the fabric of my shirt fisted in one hand and the other is braced at her side, close to Alex.
I stroke her nipple with a steady rhythm, brushing over it with my thumb and then slipping my hand lower to dip inside the front of her jeans. "Take off your shirt," I whisper into her ear, and my voice makes her shudder.
Before April can do it, though, Alex's hands find the hem of her shirt and he lifts it over her head – more gently than I've ever seen him do anything. She turns her head and looks at him, they lock eyes, then he and I lock eyes.
Carefully, I hold April's jaw and turn her face to look at me. "You okay?" I ask.
Those black eyes of hers are starving now. She nods, leaning her head back to expose her pretty neck and, with the heel of my hand still tucked inside her jeans, I start rubbing her in the way I know she likes.
"You're okay," I murmur, my lips moving against the round of her shoulder. I look up with only my eyes and catch Alex's attention, then tell him, "She's okay."
Those words are all the permission Alex needs. His hands join mine on April's smooth, milky skin, mapping across her belly and her ribcage until they find the way to her breasts – her breasts that are probably, by now, aching to be touched.
I smirk as soon as she proves me right. When Alex touches her there, holding her with both hands, she arches her back and lets a small, desperate whimper escape her throat when he squeezes. "Take it off," she breathes, watching him with half-lidded eyes.
Alex, without words, winds his arms around April's back and undoes the clasp of her bra. While he busies himself there, all I do is watch. I watch him slip the bra down her arms and keep my hand busy, dragging two fingers through the slippery wetness coating her lips, so soaked that the cotton of her underwear sticks to her skin. Once her bra is completely off, she coats my hand with even more warm, slick liquid. She's so wet when Alex puts his mouth on her nipple that, when I slip three fingers inside her, the sound is so salacious that it makes my dick twitch far past the point of discomfort.
She jolts forward, holding onto Alex's head, as her jaw drops. I continue pumping my fingers in and out of her with purpose, deliberate and slow, because I want to hear her whine.
April takes a fistful of Alex's hair but, instead of using it to pull him away from her chest, she hugs him closer and tighter. I watch his jaw work as almost her entire breast fits in his mouth; his eyes are closed like she's the best thing he's ever tasted – and I know exactly how he feels.
I'm buried to the knuckle, but I pull my fingers out of April and hold them up, rubbing them together and staring at the sheen that she left on me. After that, I slip all three of them into my mouth. She watches me, her plush lips parted, and lets out a shuddering breath that ends in a long, pitchy moan as she throws her head back.
When she does that, Alex picks his head up and I see that he's left a circle of red hickeys around April's nipple. When he finally gets the nerve to kiss her on the mouth, he rolls the unmarred nipple between his thumb and first finger and she lifts her hips for me as I work on yanking her jeans down her legs.
They're still kissing as I take her underwear off and cast it aside. When Alex realizes she's naked, though, he pulls away and takes in the sight of her – now, his pupils are blown, too, his eyes just as black as April's.
I don't try to hide the fact that I'm staring just as blatantly as he is. After I drink her in, I push her knees apart and stroke her inner thighs with my thumbs, concentrating on the wet, shiny folds between her legs.
"Look at that swollen little pussy," I say, dragging my fingertips through her curls there. She bucks against me, raw and sensitive even without yet having an orgasm. That's about to change, though. With my hand still tucked between her legs, I kiss her ear and speak right into it when I say, "Let's get on the bed."
APRIL
I have never moved so quickly in my life. My legs are jelly as I stand, and I'm glad I don't have to go far to get to the bed; I lay myself down in the middle of the mattress, waiting. This is wrong. This is so wrong. That voice in my head keeps nagging at me as I watch Jackson and Alex stand at the foot of the bed, taking me in. This is wrong. My skin feels hot the longer they stare at me, eyes raking me from head to toe. This is so wrong. Alex pulls his shirt over his head and throws it behind him on the floor, perching himself on one side of the bed, kneeling down and wrapping one hand behind my neck and pulling me up to meet him halfway, his lips pressing to mine rough and quick. The moment I wrap my arms around his shoulders, feel him in my grasp, my brain silences and my body takes over. I've never been kissed the way Alex kisses me - it's always been tender, gentle kisses, even with Jackson; but Alex kisses me fiercely, his teeth tugging at my bottom lip every time he pulls back for air, nipping my ear and biting my neck while I catch my breath. His hands are rougher, more calloused, and the sensation it creates when he palms my breast is unlike anything I've felt, lighting a spark from my chest to between my legs.
Something tickles the arches of my feet, and I open my eyes to a shirtless Jackson over Alex's shoulder; he's still standing, legs pressing into the edge of the bed where my feet are hanging over; he's shirtless, eyes dark and hazy as he watches me and Alex, palming himself through his jeans. Under the glow of the moonlight reflecting through the window, he makes a beautiful sight; I would be content to stay and watch him like that forever, but I'm feeling greedy.
I slide my hand down Alex's back, giving his ass a quick squeeze before I reach my hand out to Jackson, a 'come hither' motion that he obliges with instantly. Alex grabs my jaw, pulling my focus back to him as he kisses me again. He kisses down my neck, his mouth lavishing the breast not occupied by his hand, littering that one with hickeys as well. I wait to feel Jackson's pressure, to feel his body press down on me, on us, but it doesn't come. Instead, his hands grasp my ankles, and I suck in a sharp breath as he spreads my legs wide, hands gliding up my legs to my aching centre. I feel his thumb rub tight circles against my clit and I let out a horrendously loud moan. It's too much at once; his hands, Alex's mouth; my body is overwhelmed, but I have never felt so good in my life; I can't find it in me to care if it's wrong, if we might mess up our friendship, because it feels so damn right.
"You're so fucking wet," Jackson's fingers press between my lips as he kisses my inner thigh, his breath tickling my skin as he rest there, pulling out and holding up his glossy fingers for us all to see, "is that for me, or him?"
I watch his other hand slide from my leg to Alex's, squeezing his thigh, and I feel the effect it has on Alex as he squeezes my nipple tight between two fingers. "Please." I moan, "Ale- Jacks- I…" they feel too good, the words slip away as Alex starts kissing back up my neck, my jaw, his mouth next to my ear as he tells Jackson, "fuck her good for us."
It's the first words he's spoken since he first kissed me, and I melt. I feel Jackson's smile against my skin, "Don't have to tell me twice," and finally I feel his full weight, the mattress dipping as he lays himself fully between my legs; arms resting over my thighs locking me in place, leaning down to trail kisses along the edge of my stomach, from one hip to the other. His touch is light, tingling my skin as he goes, and it's such a vast, beautiful contrast to the way Alex touches me.
Jackson's hand stays on Alex's thigh, but I notice his fingers flex, brushing Alex's crotch as the palm of his other hand rubs against my core, my hips bucking, chasing his touch. He scoots down my body, his breath a whisper against my pussy as he mutters, "fuck, I've missed this."
Jackson presses gentle, wet kisses over my core and my moan rings through the room. His tongue runs along my lips and my back arches, pushing further into both their touches. From the corner of my eye, I see Alex's free hand move from the bed to Jackson's hand that's resting on his thigh; I watch as his fingers lay atop Jackson's, almost intertwined, and then, how he squeezes Jackson's hand, dragging it up with his to rest a little more firmly on the bulge in his jeans. Jackson's resounding moan vibrates against me, and I can feel my orgasm building hard and fast.
I've never seen two men touch each other before. Actually, I've never watched anyone have sex or even be intimate before, but I find myself wanting to watch the two of them do it. I'm entranced by the sight of Jackson's hand on Alex's bulge and the way Alex's hips move against Jackson's touch. The way he spreads his thighs, like he's trying to feel Jackson everywhere, is a move I know well. When Jackson touches you, you really, really don't want him to stop.
Alex's jeans are getting tighter and tighter with every passing moment, and he makes a strangled, desperate sound when Jackson's hand slows down and slips even further between his legs, teasing Alex's balls through his jeans.
"Fuck," Alex hisses, and I relish the sound.
"You like that," Jackson says, lifting his head up. I'm not sure who he's talking to until he meets my eyes. "You like watching me touch him, don't you? Your pussy is throbbing, sweets."
I nod; I nod desperately. I want to see more of it and I also want to have an orgasm and, if both were to happen at the same time, I wouldn't complain. I don't know how to ask for that, though, so I just drop my head back and let my thighs fall apart, completely boneless and begging for whatever he wants to do to me.
"She's dying for it," Alex says, skimming a hand up my side as Jackson sits up on his knees. "Just look at her."
Alex has never seen me like this, horny beyond measure and begging to be fucked. Jackson has, even if it was only once, but neither of them can stop staring. It's making me feel sexier than I knew I could feel.
"You want it?" Jackson asks, holding my hips in his hands. He bends at the waist and kisses my stomach, then drags his tongue down until his mouth covers my core. "God, you taste so good."
From where his face is buried between my legs, Jackson looks up and makes eye contact with Alex, who's watching him with a heaving chest. "Yes," I say, answering their question. I hold the back of Alex's neck and direct his face to between my legs, then practically lose myself with both of their mouths there.
Jackson watches Alex, his cheek resting against my thigh, as Alex gets used to my body and what it likes. Right now, it's not difficult – I'm so wet and so ready that I like pretty much anything. But when he opens his mouth wide and pulls my clit between his lips, sucking with a slow, confident rhythm, I let out a choppy, shuddering gust of a moan that makes Jackson lift up and smile at me. That's especially good.
Alex closes his eyes and holds my thighs tight, and Jackson rests a hand on his back, then runs his fingers gently through Alex's hair. Alex's rhythm hiccups when Jackson does that – I know, from experience, how good it feels, so it's no wonder. He lifts up for a moment and meets Jackson's eyes, and the two of them grin at each other in a way that makes my insides tremble.
"You see her little freckle right there," Jackson says, pointing out to Alex the singular freckle I have on one of my outer lips. "I love that freckle."
Alex's expression shifts by just a fraction – wondering, maybe, how Jackson already knows that freckle exists. I don't have much time to wonder about the interaction, though, because Jackson swiftly flips me over to rest on my hands and knees, ass in the air, as he positions himself behind me.
I hear the clink of Jackson's belt buckle, then feel his erection pressing against the back of my thigh. Alex has his eyes on Jackson – not on his eyes, though, he's looking lower – until I catch his attention.
"Come here," I say to him, "come kiss me."
I crawl overtop of Alex, chest to chest with him as his legs bracket around mine and Jackson's; I hold his face tightly as Jackson buries himself inside me. "Oh, fuck," Jackson moans, and Alex groans into my mouth. My body lurches forward, propelled by Jackson's force, and Alex holds me tight around the middle to keep me steady.
"I got you," he says with a gentleness that surprises me, and I dip my head low to open my mouth on his neck. His hands are all over me, mapping the expanse of my back, cupping my breasts, combing through my hair, until he finally finds a place to rest between my legs. With Jackson as deep as he is and Alex teasing my clit just right, sparks light behind my eyes and it's all I can do not to scream. Every nerve ending I have is firing and creating the most beautiful, wonderful, earth-shattering orgasm that only intensifies every time Jackson slams fully into me.
My mouth drops open and my hand finds Alex's crotch again. I don't know how he's lasted this long being as hard as he is, but I try to do something about it – as best I can while being fucked from behind and having an eye-crossing orgasm. I grip him tight, reaching far between his thighs like Jackson had done, and I keep my hand moving until Jackson comes inside me and collapses over my back, which dislodges my grip and places us in a sweaty, panting pile of fluids.
After a moment, Jackson kisses my damp neck and rests his face in my hair. He snakes one arm under me to gently hold one of my breasts, then reaches to brush Alex's thigh with the fingers of his free hand. I hug Jackson's arm close to me, but only for a second before I come back to myself and realize where we are and what the hell we just did.
The room is too quiet now, and it smells like sex. The boards, the most important test of my career, are tomorrow, and the headspace that I'm in is so wrong that it would be laughable if it weren't so freaking terrifying.
Jackson must feel my tension, because he sits up. And, as soon as he sits up, Alex does too, which leaves me hollow, bare, and, admittedly, dripping a little as I watch them both get re-dressed.
"Early day tomorrow," Jackson says. "We should probably…"
"Yep," Alex says, clearing his throat and adjusting himself in his jeans – his jeans that are still too tight on the crotch. He never got to finish.
"Right," I say, tucking my hair behind my ears and subtly slipping under the covers. "Goodnight." They both wish me goodnight and leave the room - Alex grabs his bags and rushes out, Jackson hesitating for a moment before following suit, both heading to their own spaces for the night.
The next day, we take our boards, and go home without speaking about what happened. We go to work, hang out with our friends, and we still don't speak about it.
We don't speak about it – at least, not until two weeks later at the bar, when Alex pulls up a third chair to mine and Jackson's table for two.