4. Sage
The four weeks since Val moved in had been the best of Sage’s life. The trio quickly fell into the best habits of when they’d all lived together before. Val loaded the dishwasher properly after Sage cooked. Weston had his video game partner back, and no longer badgered Sage into getting his ass kicked for an hour. And old battles over snoring and bathroom hogging never cropped up in a larger house where each man had his own space. Their house finally looked like a home, with Val’s hoard of mystery novels filling the gaps in the bookshelves among Sage’s epic fantasy tomes and Weston’s graphic novels. The few pieces brought from California might have jarred with Sage’s minor obsession with building IKEA furniture, but the blend of clean lines and Val’s penchant for bold patterns elevated the place from bachelor pad chic to an almost intentional style. Val had hung curtains in the den where they spent most of their time, and suddenly the place was downright cozy.
These had also been the worst four weeks of Sage’s life. Val had acquired certain habits while living alone across the country. He wandered the house shirtless way more often than Sage remembered, wearing no more than a low-slung pair of gray joggers. Sage might have dealt with having to look but not touch—if he hadn’t gotten so used to being able to look and touch with Weston. But keeping that under wraps meant he now snuck around with Weston in their own home.
Sage could count on one hand the number of times Weston wanted company past a few minutes of postcoital cuddling, so one of them wandering to their own room after fucking wasn’t new. But he hated that it turned to creeping along the hall. Watching the noise level during their handful of encounters since Val moved in had been pretty hot but sure to wear thin.
Even more, he missed the casual affection Weston had indulged in the privacy of their own home. No more snuggling on the giant, overstuffed couch during movies. No more Saturday afternoon cat naps using Weston’s lap as a pillow while the other man played video games. Though to be fair, Morka had happily reclaimed Weston’s lap as her throne, and Sage would never dare try to evict her.
No more Saturday afternoon quickies after naps, either. But even passing out after a 10k run—keeping a respectable distance on the other half of the massive sectional—didn’t stem Sage’s frustration. He woke up hard enough to pound nails, the same as he had that morning, and groaned into the couch pillow.
Weston laughed, unsympathetic to Sage’s plight. The bastard dropped the controller onto the cushion next to him and stretched, taunting Sage with the strip of skin revealed when Morka jumped away in protest and Weston’s shirt inched higher.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” When Weston’s arms dropped, he dragged one hand to his crotch and smirked. “Also, Val just headed out to meet his brother for dinner.”
Sage’s mood reversed in an instant. “Then you should probably get naked.” He launched himself off the couch in much the same way as the cat. He practically sprinted upstairs, almost wiping out on the funky area rug Val placed in the bedroom hallway. He regretted his decision to remove the lube from the coffee table drawer out of some idea of propriety.
He dug his bottle from his nightstand and returned downstairs in record time. Weston had followed instructions and then some. He bent over the back of the couch, firm ass on full display, thick thighs spread enough for a teasing glimpse of his hole.
Sage stripped off his T-shirt and shorts, knowing he wouldn’t have the patience once he got his hands on Weston. With the chance to explore Weston’s sexy form in broad daylight now a rare treat, he intended to take full advantage. Maybe recent restrictions also chafed at Weston, based on his loud curses at the teasing fingers that turned into unbridled cries once Sage began to open him up. Sage loved both his best friends and loved the life he had living with them, but he also loved this—fucking in the sunlight that poured through the sliding glass door to the backyard. The needy moans that escaped Weston’s lips as Sage worked his dick into him inch by teasing inch.
When Sage pressed in all the way, Weston’s groan lost volume halfway through his long exhale. Sage leaned over to kiss along the expanse of Weston’s shoulders, mixing in bites that offered the teasing sting of pain that never failed to rev Weston up even further?—
A startled gasp broke the silence.
They both flinched hard at the shock that they weren’t alone. Sage’s dick slipped out of Weston as he jerked away and twisted toward the sound. His hard-on slapped damply against his stomach as if determined to get its due regardless of interruption.
The kitchen door slammed shut on Val’s retreating form.