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They shouldn’t be doing this.
It’s extremely stupid from Thiago’s part to let it happen, because even if Jona is the oldest, it’s just by one year and Thiago has always been the most responsible one – especially when Jona and Rafa are concerned.
Rafa’s the one holding the bottle of tequila between his fingers, singing loudly to the words of a ridiculous pop song he never bothered hiding he loved. That was Rafa – always loved openly, always wore the things he loved on his sleeve and showed it to the world proudly. He always showed Thiago he loved him the most, too.
So Rafa is singing and Jona is laughing and they’re drunk, a few sips away of being absolutely plastered, and even if they don’t have training the following day they just shouldn’t, if anyone caught them, god, Thiago doesn’t even like to think about it.
“Stop worrying so much,” Jona says, smiling dumbly as he drops on the couch pit next to him. He pecks Thiago on the lips. “We’re having fun. It’s a part-ay.”
“Rafa’s just 18, he shouldn’t be drinking too much.” He says, but he feels the words stumbling on his tongue, the tequila already making him fuzzy and slowing down his thoughts.
“Rafa’s 18, though, there are a lot of things he can do.” Jona says, and then laughs when Thiago throws him a murder look. He doesn’t seem to mind and Thiago’s already relaxing as soon as Jona scoots closer, throwing one of his legs in between Thiago’s, resting his cheek against his shoulder. He rolls his eyes, but wraps one arm around Jona, bringing him closer.
In front of them, Rafa starts dancing to a mid tempo beat blasting out of the speakers. There’s no one home but them, their dad gone for a week more, so they don’t really have to worry about anyone, really. Thiago tells himself it’s fine. Let them have their youth for once.
Jona’s completely unaware of Thiago’s thoughts, glued to his side as his lips start kissing Thiago’s neck, mouthing the skin and giving it small licks, sucking lightly, not enough to leave bruises, never that, but enough to make Thiago shiver and the sensation to go straight to his dick.
“Jona…” He says warningly, but Jona only hums, licks at the salty skin again. His hand starts travelling along Thiago’s torso, then sneak up under his shirt, just resting against Thiago’s abs, but he feels his stomach tighten in anticipation.
The feeling turns into something else entirely when he looks up, sees Rafa has stopped dancing and is just standing there, right there, watching Jona’s hand inside Thiago’s shirt and his mouth on Thiago’s neck, and he’s flushed. Thiago knows his brother too well, reads him better than anyone ever would – he can see it, can see Rafa’s drunk and embarrassed and hurt, can see the rejection in his face, the look of someone that’s feeling betrayed.
He gently pushes Jona off him, who is hurt for a millisecond before he sees Rafa, too, and it’s not like Rafa didn’t know about them, but he doesn’t think he’s even seen them together, not like this.
Thiago motions for him to come sit with them, and Jona automatically makes space for him to sit in the middle of them, even though there’s enough space for him to sit anywhere. Rafa hesitates for a second before doing so, hands pulling at the hem of his shirt, and he’s looking at the ground by the time he’s fit between them.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Thiago makes him look up by holding his chin gently, caressing his cheek.
“It’s nothing, Thi, I swear,” He says, his words surprisingly less slurred than Thiago’s own.
“You can tell us,” Jona offers, immediately hugging Rafa’s side, resting his chin on Rafa’s shoulder.
Rafa’s silent for a few seconds, and Thiago feels like doing something, doing so many things that he’d rather not think about individually, not let his mind catch up to them. “It’s… You guys are my brother and best friend…It’s weird, I guess. Just a bit.”
And Thiago understands, then, that Rafa feels left out. The guilty doubles inside him immediately, because above everything, Rafa should never feel left out, should never feel unwanted or in second plan because he’s the most important person in Thiago’s world. Rafa’s beautiful and pure, he’s kind and funny and crazy smart, and there’s nothing he’d ask Thiago that he wouldn’t kill to give him.
“Rafa…” He says, because it’s all he manages, and holds Rafa’s hand tight between his.
“Sorry, don’t get me wrong,” He starts again, voice slightly alarmed. “It’s not the… It’s not that you’re both guys, ok? I’m ok with that. It’s…” He flushes again then, and his voice drops back to almost a whisper. “I think it’s because I’ve never kissed a boy myself, so. Whatever.”
Thiago knows that. He knows because if he had, he would’ve told him, like he told Thiago when he kissed Maria and when he lost his virginity to Rafaela and said maybe, maybe girls weren’t really his thing. He can see Rafa’s embarrassed about it, like he has a reason to.
“It’s okay, Rafi.” Jona says, pressing a kiss on Rafa’s shoulder. He looks over to Thiago, then, and he sees Thiago looks helpless and somehow, he knows.
Thiago finds himself unable to stop himself from asking, “Do you want to, Rafa?”
When Rafa looks back at him, he has confusion written all of his face, and he squeezes Thiago’s hand around his own. Jona sits up straight, face levelling with Rafa’s, encouraging him to answer. Rafa nods.
“I could,” Jona says carefully, but his eyes aren’t on Rafa, they’re on Thiago. “I could. Kiss you, I mean. If you want to.” He says more firmly, and Thiago doesn’t know what he wants to say first. Thank him, maybe. Jona looks relieved Thiago is okay with it, and he wonders how bad it makes him that he’s that protective of Rafa, to the point of possessiveness.
He’s okay with it, more than okay, because he’d share anything with Rafa, always has done so his whole life; because nothing seems right when he doesn’t have Rafa to share it with him. He nods to both of them, reassuringly.
“Ok.” Rafa says, and he laces his fingers with Thiago’s when he makes even the smallest movement to give them space – keeps him there, their arms pressed together and hands linked over Rafa’s lap.
Jona moves, then, positions himself in a better angle, hand reaching to cup Rafa’s cheek. He moves forward until his faces is inches away from Rafa’s, and he can see the way his gaze drops to Jona’s full lips, already glistening with saliva and a deep shade of red. That’s as much confirmation Jona needs before leaning in, capturing Rafa’s lips in his own.
Thiago’s so close he can see it in full detail, and he can tell it’s different. When Jona kisses him he’s careless, he gives his all for Thiago to take, mouth parted and breathing in each other, sucking and drinking on his tongue and it’s so fucking good, it gets hot quickly and it feels like they’re both on fire, like they’re kissing to save each other’s lives.
With Rafa, Jona’s tentative, careful, like Rafa is something precious, fragile even, even though they know he’s anything but. Rafa parts his mouth and allows Jona in, who kisses him thoroughly, licks behind his teeth and sucks on his tongue, catches his bottom lip between his teeth – and Rafa’s breathless when they part. Thiago doesn’t even realize he’d been holding a breath of his own until he sighs.
“Good?” Jona asks, grinning from ear to ear like he won something, and Thiago knows that’s how someone must feel after kissing Rafa. Jona’s beautiful on his own, though, pleased and carefree and hot, and Thiago feels dirty for wanting to kiss him right then, for wanting to taste Jona right after he just kissed Rafa.
“Good.” Rafa answers, still blushing but smiling now, relaxed and aroused, and Thiago knows that’s how it feels like kissing Jona. He’s still holding Thiago’s hand, hasn’t let go and suddenly seems aware of it, turns his face to Thiago, looks at him worriedly.
“Are you mad at me?” He asks, and Thiago looks at him like he’s absolutely crazy.
“Of course I’m not mad at you,” He says, and pulls Rafa towards him because he doesn’t understand how much Thiago loves him, the lengths he’d go to make him happy. Rafa wraps himself around him, almost the exact way Jona was before, face hidden between Thiago’s neck and shoulder.
“Thank you.” He murmurs against Thiago’s neck, and it’s filthy that his lips graze the exact spot Jona was licking and kissing before, it’s filthy that Thiago gets turned on by that. He shouldn’t be able to even be next to Rafa when he has these thoughts, shouldn’t be allowed to hurt him and drag him along with his sick mind, but Rafa’s clinging to him because he needs his big brother.
“Move, dickhead,” Jona kicks Rafa, and just like that, the charged atmosphere is broken. Rafa laughs and kicks him back, but they move around until they’re settled on the huge couch pit, Jona pressed against Rafa, Rafa’s back half lying on Thiago’s chest. Somehow, they fit together comfortably enough.