Work Text:
The apartment is dripping with buttery sunlight pouring through the windows, curtains pushed to the side and tied back. They woke up in a good mood; not uncommon, but still thrilling when it happens. They sit around the small square table pushed against the wall. Jake’s favorite jazz playlist pours from the speaker on the kitchen counter a few feet away.
On his right, Steven asks, “Marc?”
He grunts and sips his coffee.
“Did Layla ever fuck you?”
He spits out his coffee.
Jake laughs and slowly claps with delight. His hair is still a mess from sleep. “Attaboy, Steven. Asking the important questions.”
“Steven,” Marc coughs, meeting his partner’s eyes and finding curiosity there. Interest. He blinks back triggered memories of when Layla absolutely did. “Can’t we have a decent breakfast?”
“Oh, yeah, she definitely did.” Jake smiles like a shark and leans on his hand. His cereal bowl is empty, the banana peel limp on the table. “Look at ‘im blush.”
“I was just wondering,” Steven says dismissively and returns to his bowl of oatmeal. “That’s all.”
Yeah, right.
“Yeah, right.” Jake leans back against his chair and crosses his arms. There’s a thud under the table, and Steven’s face scrunches in pain. “Fess up. You want her to peg you?”
Steven's face shifts into a familiar one. Lips turning in a pout, eyes sharp. Caught, but still belligerent about it. “Is that a problem?”
Jake smirks. “I’d pay to see it, amorcito.”
Steven lifts his chin. Obviously in a mood. Obviously knowing he’s getting railed tonight one way or another. Maybe sooner. He looks at Marc. “What was it like?”
Marc lifts his coffee to his lips again in an effort to hide the blush he can’t control.
“Holy shit.” Jake covers his mouth and leans forward again. “That good, huh?”
Steven starts to flush and fidget in his chair.
Marc looks at the table. “Have a conversation with her beforehand. She won’t say no, but set your boundaries. She’s… uh…”
Languid kisses drag up his skin, still warm from a long night in the suit. He mumbles into the bed, "M’tired, Layla."
A telltale metallic sound goes straight to his groin. She reaches his ear. "Are you sure about that, darling?" Cool leather drags over the path her lips traveled. "You have energy for at least two rounds, don’t you?"
“She’s…”
Plush lips lingering above his own, lithe fingers knuckle-deep and teasing his spot while he moans and fights against the secured rope chafing his wrists—
“Uh…”
Her voice rasped in his ear, filthy mouth pouring insults, hips driving in with brute force, stars swimming in his eyes—
“She’s a lot.” He lifts his mug again. His hand shakes.
Steven and Jake stare at him.
“What the hell did you two do?” Jake asks, with more demand. A spark of challenge in his eye.
Marc shakes his head and focuses on Steven. “Talk to her.”
————
Layla opens the door to her apartment and blinks at the sight of all three of them. Her hair is tied back and she’s holding an apple. She crosses her arms, even more fit now with her new role as an avatar. “What’s going on?” Her eyes flick down, searching for weapons.
“Steven wants to talk to you,” Jake announces and shoves Steven forward. He trips, but Layla catches him by the elbows.
Steven apologizes frantically and straightens himself. “I’m sorry, sorry, um, sorry about them. It’s not a big deal. A-Are you busy? If you are, I can just come back another day, it’s no biggie.”
Still suspicious, Layla steps to the side. “I can take a break. I’m decoding something.”
Steven brightens. “Oh! Perhaps I could help out. I-If you want?”
Her eyes are narrowed. Suspicious. A flicker of pride sparks in his chest. “Ordinarily I’d say yes, but I don’t think this is a normal visit.”
“Sure it is. Can’t we all just…” Steven looks between all of them. Jake is biting back his laughter. “Chat?”
Jake nudges Marc. “He’s so shy all of a sudden.”
Layla asks fondly, loudly, “What is going on?”
“Tell her, Steven,” Marc says. Layla’s gaze snaps to him, and he tries and fails not to flinch. Jake pokes Marc’s side, and he flinches again, crossing his arms.
“I…” Steven knocks his knuckles together. “Can we please sit down?”
Layla tosses her apple to Jake, who catches it and helps himself to a huge bite. Then she takes Steven’s hand with a sweet smile and leads him to her purple loveseat in the sitting room. “Ignore them. Tell me what’s happening, Steven.”
They sit knee-to-knee, calves brushing the low coffee table in front of them. Jake and Marc settle in the armchairs on either side of the loveseat.
“U-Um, okay, well...”
Steven falls silent. Layla frowns and rubs her thumbs over the sides of his hands. Steven offers a weak smile but it fades almost immediately in way of nerves.
“You can tell me anything, Steven. I won’t judge you.”
Steven looks up at Layla. Hanging onto her gaze, as he tries again. She doesn't look away or let go of his hands. “Well, I’ve been thinking lately. About um. Well. A-About…” He trails off, cheeks turning pink. He whispers, “...sex.” His voice raises again, hands flailing. “Not to say I’m not satisfied, because I am! They’re very satisfying!”
“Damn right,” Jake mutters, watching the both of them with ease, twisting the core of the finished apple. His legs are stretched out, heavy boots out of place on the tasseled carpet beneath the coffee table. Marc leans his elbows on his knees, hands folded. Ignoring the heat of Layla's occasional side-glance.
“It’s just, sometimes my mind goes, and I can’t stop it. And I think about y-you. Um. Layla, you’re simply one of the best people I’ve ever met, and— you can say no, always, you won’t hurt my feelings. Well maybe a little, but nothing I can’t handle. Contrary to how you all tend to treat me, I’m a grown man, thank you. Oh. Oh, no, not that I’m complaining. Not at all. I’m relieved, and thankful that I have so many people who care for me, truly, I just... Layla I need you to know that I love you, and you’re amazing, and you’re always in my head—”
Steven keeps babbling.
Layla’s eyes slide over to Marc again, and this time he looks back. Her smile is hidden by a carefully placed hand. Her golden rings catch the light. She lifts a brow, and he hears her silent question. May I?
Marc nods. She looks at Jake, who dips his head.
“—and that's what I… wanted to….” Steven trails off and looks between the three of them. Realization dawns on him, and he scowls as Jake poorly hides his snicker. “I’m here, pouring my heart out and no one’s even listening.”
She rests a hand on his arm. His indignance melts away as he smiles at her with heart eyes. “I hear you, Steven.”
“Y-You do?”
“Mhm.” She walks her pointer and middle fingers up his arm, long nails digging in and Steven stares at them. They climb his neck, then grip his chin. “We need to have a long conversation first."
Steven nods before she tightens her hold. His pupils are fully dilated. “M-Marc said that.”
“Hm…” She leans closer, her simmering brown eyes lowered to his lips. “And what else did he tell you?”
Steven’s wide eyes dart between Marc and Jake.
Layla tsks, and Steven’s eyes snap back to her. “Look at me. Not them. You’re mine for now.”
There’s a tent in Steven’s pants now, and he licks his lips, glancing down at hers.
“Answer my question, Steven.”
He shivers under her command. “S-Sorry, uh, yeah. Um…” He blinks. “What was the question, again?”
She laughs, her head thrown back. Then she leans close, their lips a breath apart. Her other hand slides down over his chest and splays across his stomach. Possessive. “Oh, honey, I’m going to have fun with you.”