Chapter Text
Brett had never been sure how he was supposed to feel about Ron. Well, he knew how he was supposed to feel, but… There was this deep undercurrent of mistrust that came with everything Ron did. It came from a place deep in Brett’s stomach that made him feel… mean for feeling it.
Maybe part of it was that he hadn’t known that Ron existed at all until suddenly Reagan, his best friend who he told everything , was dating the guy. Like, why didn’t anyone say anything to him? Even Gigi seemed to know by the time he found out.
What made this guy so important to Reagan that she didn’t even want to tell him about it?
Well.
Brett very quickly found out what it was he was missing. It wasn’t more than a few small things, really.
Ron was very good with his hands.
His hands were just slightly bigger than Brett’s, a little softer, too. He had callouses from holding guns over the years, but nothing compared to the litany of tiny scars littering Brett’s hands from burns, sewing needles, and guitar strings since his youth.
Ron had Brett naked from the waist down, and Reagan had her thighs on either side of Brett’s head, combing her fingers through his hair. In the back of his mind, Brett worried about her messing up his look, but then she pressed a little harder with her nails along his scalp right as he felt Ron pull his legs up over his shoulders and any chance of a coherent thought was as good as gone.
His stubble was scratchy and fuzzy against Brett’s thighs, and his mouth was still warm from kissing.
Brett usually checked out mentally during sex. He didn’t think of it as something particularly special, just another task to complete. A goal to get to— make your partner feel good. He could take the focus off of his needs and lose himself fully in service. He was good at that!
He didn’t know what to do with himself at the moment. Wasn’t he supposed to be helping?
Ron looked up at Brett from between his legs.
“You’re going to have to, uh… kinda walk me through this. I’ve never… y’know. ”
Finally. A task! Brett nodded, spreading his legs a little more.
“I—”
Reagan interrupted him.
“You just imagine what’d feel good for you. Be gentle. Trust your instincts. Pretty normal stuff.”
“Right,” Ron nodded, a little more sure of himself. He reached up and guided Brett’s hand to rest on his head. “Don’t be afraid to give me a little guidance, okay?”
Brett idly combed his fingers through Ron’s soft, dark hair, watching in wonder as Ron’s still-wet lips pressed a kiss to the base of his cock.
Brett was already hard from the kissing earlier. Well, not just the kissing, really he was hard from just… walking in. Knowing what was supposed to happen here. It set his nerves alight in every way.
Ron relaxed his jaw first. He always had it clenched tight, even when he didn't notice. Part of him hoped that’d mean he had some muscle that’d make this easier.
He made eye contact with Brett as he took his cock fully in his mouth, feeling it slide along his tongue. It was obviously a lot different from eating Reagan out, but… sort of the same— the taste of salt and sweat, the way his mouth instinctively watered.
He closed his lips, swallowing, moving his head further down. Brett exhaled, shaky, a small sound coming with it as his cock hit the back of Ron’s throat.
“That’s— mmm… You— sure you've never— aah—”
Brett’s hand tightened in his hair, pulling just enough that it sent sparks of pleasure through his body, all tension and no direction. Ron moaned around him, adjusting how he was sitting, pulling him closer and squeezing his hips.
Ron was vaguely aware that Reagan was whispering something to Brett that he couldn’t quite hear past Brett’s thighs as they squished against his ears. Whatever she was saying made Brett arch his back and nod, eyes tight shut.
Ron let his own eyes fall shut so he could focus. The sight of them both like that made his head spin. He wasn’t sure who to be jealous of more.
Was he allowed to want that? Surely, he was. Reagan had asked . Brett wanted this just as much as he did, judging by the salty, almost bitter taste at the back of his tongue.
Brett said something he couldn’t quite hear, and then there was a second hand on his head, pushing him away. He leaned back, a thin line of saliva and cum trailing between his mouth and Brett’s cock.
“Whuh..? We’re stopping?” He licked his lips, noticing the way Brett shuddered, his eyes trained on Ron’s tongue.
“Didn’t wanna—” Brett panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Didn’t wanna tap out too early. You did so good.”
Brett squeezed Ron’s cheeks between his thighs. Ron looked up at him.
“I did? Good..?” He spoke softly, resting his head in Brett’s lap.
Reagan and Brett both immediately chorused; “Yes!” “ YES. ” “You did sooo good. ” “I haven’t felt that good in a long time.”
Ron’s cheeks went hot and he hid his face from them. “I— I literally googled how to suck dick on the way here. Just in case.”
“Was the advice good?” Reagan gave a grin from over Brett’s shoulder.
“I— not really? Just stuff like… focusing on your breathing so you don’t choke.” Ron moved slightly, adjusting his position. He was still mostly dressed, but a bit sweaty, his pants feeling… tight. He felt out of place with both of them being undressed to some degree.
“Can—” Ron trailed off. They looked at him intently, waiting for elaboration. “Would one of you… unbutton my shirt for me? Please.”
“Oh, yeah—” Brett reached forward to start, but Reagan slipped her arms underneath his. She grabbed Ron by the tie, yanking him forward, and Ron made an embarrassingly loud noise. It wasn’t that loud, really, but considering he was now inches away from Brett’s face, and it was just a split second of tension around his neck, it felt like a lot.
Brett’s eyes went wide at the sound. Reagan began undoing the buttons on Ron’s shirt, squinting to see the lower set.
“Uh… hi,” Ron glanced away, unable to meet Brett’s eyes.
“Sup,” Brett smirked, tilting his head lackadaisically. “You come here often?”
Ron laughed, turning his head away. “No, I don’t. That’s so cheesy. ”
“You’re smiling, though,” Brett grinned. He moved his hands forward, slipping up Ron’s shirt as Reagan finished unbuttoning it.
Ron’s body was a lot softer than his own. He was squishy in all the right places, a layer of soft hair trailing down his stomach, his arms, and some of his chest. Brett loved the buzzy feeling of running his hands up and down Ron’s skin, the texture of it making his hands tingle.
Brett immediately tucked his hands into Ron’s back pockets, squeezing. It was half playful, half flirty. Reagan’s hands followed quickly, squeezing his hips, pulling him closer. Ron felt like a sailor being called by sirens to crash against the rocks.
He gave in easily.
Before he knew it, Reagan was in his lap and straddling his hips, with Brett having swapped places with her, Ron’s head on Brett’s chest. His clothes were being pulled off like he was little more than a barbie doll to them, something to be moved and used as they deemed fit, and the security of it made him shiver in anticipation.
Reagan knew what he liked, how he liked it. They’d only just recently been getting past the territory of early-relationship exploration sex and into more experimental stuff, pushing their own boundaries.
Reagan was very smart, and unstoppable when she was given something to focus on. She had him picked apart in no time at all, pulling back the layers of anxiety that wrapped his guilty pleasures.
“Good boy,” she whispered into the skin just below his ear, pressing kisses along his jaw. He took a shuddering breath, letting his eyes fall closed.
“He is,” Brett echoed. “Very very good…” Ron would never tell anyone about the way that made his stomach flutter.
There were fingertips pressed between his legs, and from the confidence alone he was sure they were Reagan’s. He hadn’t come out to Brett as trans yet, and doubted Reagan had said anything. He just hoped Brett didn’t think that his lack of visible arousal was a bad sign.
“God, you’re so wet,” Reagan teased. “Probably almost as wet as I am.”
“Hey,” Ron took a deep breath, trying to regain his confidence and push past his anxiety. “You’re not the one who just sucked a guy off for the first time, okay?”
“You liked it that much?” Brett leaned towards him a little. “I didn’t know people liked—... I didn’t know if it’d be that good for you.”
Ron squirmed, trying to form coherent words while Reagan’s fingers were behind her back, rubbing at his cunt, distracting him. After a moment, he gave up and sighed, arching his back, trying to get Reagan to—
“Go on, tell him how much you liked sucking his cock,” she grinned, with that authoritative tone that made his knees weak.
“A lot,” he choked out, breathless. “I liked— knowing that you were enjoying it. Knowing I could have that effect on you. Makes me feel… in control. In a good way.”
“Good boy,” Reagan nodded. She pressed two fingers inside of him, thumb rubbing lazy circles around his dick. He whined, relaxing his head.
“I’m really happy you’re having a good time,” Brett mumbled into his hair from above him. His arms wrapped slowly around Ron’s chest, all but cuddling into him. “Was worried you’d hate it.”
“He doesn’t,” Reagan slowly began pumping her fingers in and out of him, too slowly to feel satisfying. “He lo— he likes this a lot. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” he nodded, hips twitching forward.
“Try again,” her fingers went still. Ron took a deep breath, eyes fluttering open. He looked up at her, the bedside lamp silhouetting her like the sun.
“Yes, sir ,” he corrected, feeling Brett take a deep breath from behind him. Reagan’s eyes darted up to Brett, and her smile went from soft and prideful to something more wry and mischievous.
“...Brett? You okay?”
Ron could feel Brett’s heartbeat through the back of his neck. Brett said something soft, too soft for even Ron to hear.
“Speak up,” Reagan demanded.
“ Yes sir, ” Brett immediately replied. His voice was a little too loud. He was nervous. “I’m— I’m okay. Better than okay.”
Ron watched the way her expression shifted, familiar and terrifying and incredibly arousing.
“Brett,” she nodded slowly, pulling her fingers out of Ron and wiping them on the sheets. “Have you ever— well… Have you ever let someone fuck you before?”
“Yes,” his answer came easily. His eyes darted down between Ron’s legs for a moment.
“Did you like it?”
“...Yes. A lot.”
There was a bit of guilt behind his response, like he wasn’t supposed to like it.
“Would you—”
“ Yes,” Brett’s answer was immediate and excited. “Please. Please?”
His voice was shaking.
“You didn’t let me finish ,” she rolled her eyes. “Would you prefer it if I fucked you or Ron did?”
Brett flinched. “Um. Do— do I have to pick? Can’t you…? I don’t want to upset anyone.”
“I want you to pick,” Reagan shifted how she was sitting, balancing her weight on her knees instead of Ron’s hips. “I’ll be happy no matter what answer you give.”
“Yeah, same here,” Ron tilted his head back. He hesitantly pressed a kiss to the underside of Brett’s jaw.
“Oh,” Brett sighed. “I— Reagan…? Just because Ron already— earlier.”
“Mmm,” Reagan shook her head. “Ask me again, and be specific with what you want.”
Brett squirmed. God, she was good at this. He pushed past the nervousness, the guilt, the shame.
“I want you to fuck me,” he spoke, as level and clear as he could manage. “...Please.”
Reagan softened a bit, reaching over and patting his head. “Good boy, Brett… very brave of you.”
Brett all but ragdolled against Ron’s back before squeezing him tight, burying his face in Ron’s neck.
“ Thank you,” he mumbled, refusing to look up. Ron turned as much as he could, kissing his cheek.
Reagan craned her body off the edge of the bed, grabbing her backpack and unzipping the main pocket. Ohhhhhh. That’s what the bag is for.
“I’ve got a few different straps to choose from,” Reagan commented as she dug through it. “I’m not starting with Ron’s.”
“It’s seriously not that big,” he groaned, crossing his arms. “It’s a normal size that anyone could have.”
“The average vagina is only around 5 inches deep, y’know,” she waved her hand in disbelief. “ Where are the other 5 inches supposed to go???”
“I’m sorry I didn’t measure the depth of your vagina before buying a sex toy for the first time,” Ron rolled his eyes, full of sarcasm. The bickering made Brett tense, but he relaxed a little when he saw that Reagan had a smile on her face. Everything was still okay.
Reagan pulled out a relatively small toy, purple silicone with a flared base. She set it aside, pulling out the actual harness to attach it to.
“I accept your apology. Next time, we’ll do better.”
The process of putting on a harness is, quite frankly, not the sexiest thing to watch. It’s a lot of twisting and untwisting the various straps and buckles. Somehow, both Ron and Brett were all but drooling while Reagan hopped on one foot to try and get it on, adjusting the waistband.
“Okay,” she slipped the base of the toy through the ring at the front of the harness, buttoning it into place. “God. Note to self, make an easier way to do this.”
“I wouldn’t be able to get that thing on myself,” Brett looked up at her. “One time I got stuck in my own sweater just trying to take it off.”
“I know, Brett,” Reagan pulled the thigh straps tight. “I was there.”
“Oh, right.”