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“I’ve decided this is how I want to die,” said Mini, leaning back a little, looking out the window with an honestly content expression on his face. “Getting cucked by the man whose fiancé I’ve been fucking for months.”
He was mad. He was mad not just at Zee, but Mini, too. Both boyfriends. Both sources of dick, shut down. Which was the worst part of it.
am I in love or colorblind? a stubborn knot of cloud, it seems, is spending all its days with me.
“I don’t know how the hell you two are still together. You’re two halves of a whole mess.”
“You don’t have to answer right this second,” said Zee. “It’s not an immediate thing.” “Just ask it,” said Trinket. Zee asked it. “Do you want to have sex in front of him?”
Of course the two of them together would be worse, of course Mini’s villainous teasing would mesh horribly with Zee’s sadistic streak, why had Trinket ever thought this would be good, ever fantasized about it—
Trinket had never felt lonely with either one of them, but having both Mini and Zee around felt like relief. Two warm spots. Two buffers. With one person on either side, even just metaphorically, Trinket felt like he could relax.
Mini cocked his eyebrow a little higher. The obvious question was raised. Stop, or continue? Pull his hand out of Mini’s pants, or cheat while his boyfriend lay directly beside him in bed?
“What did he say to you in the car? Wanted to ask if you still liked the taste of his cum best?”
“Maybe he put it in and came instantaneously,” speculated Mini. “He’s never tried it up there, who knows? Maybe he’s a big ol’ buttslut.”
“He has to work so he can buy us more dildos and lingerie.”
“You two make a beautiful fucking picture,” he said, and his voice was almost loving. “You’d make buckets of cash doing amateur porn, you know. You’re wasted fucking privately in your bedroom.” “Shut up and jerk off to it,” said Zee. Mini laughed.
“Where are you going? Weren’t we going to ‘talk about this’?” “We—” Zee delicately stressed the word. “—are going to find and bring home your other boyfriend. He’s half responsible for this mess, he doesn’t get to coast through your meltdown. This is a two man job.”
He felt a weird mingling of shame and relief — shame over what he’d done, and relief that it could be talked about. All of it. Not just the cheating, but the horrible first time, his wrecked virginity, Zee’s drug use, everything ugly out in the open.
None of their mistakes negated each other’s. There was no point of reaching balance, no equalizing wrongs… the wrongs only stacked.
“I get it,” he snapped. “You get it, we all get it. We’re all fucking awful people, right? I’m the cheating slut, Zee is the shitty boyfriend, Mini is the one who took advantage of things being miserable and fucked up, but he didn’t start it.
“I just want it to be better. Nobody gets to hate anyone anymore. Nobody has the right. Nobody here is better than anyone else.”
“I wouldn’t invite you into my relationship with Trinket if it were only about you and him,” said Zee. “I would happily let you two be together on your own. I want you to know that. I want you to really understand and believe that, so you know that when I ask you to come home with us, I don’t mean just him. I mean me. I mean that I want you, that you make me feel peaceful when I’m around you, that I look at my art differently when you’re there to look at it with me. You’re fascinating. You’re clever. You’re gentle. I think if I spend enough time with you, I might learn to be gentle, too.”
In the past, he’d been able to cushion his requests for kisses, spooning, et cetera, by doing so in the context of a dirty, taboo, secret relationship. Now that Mini’s mirage of being the Bad Boy side piece had been obliterated by Zee, he was going to have to get creative.
“If this day involves one more crying fit, I’m breaking up with both of you.”
Looking on, Trinket only wished he had coffee. It would have been so indescribably nice to watch his two men roll around and fuck while sipping his morning coffee.
Reprimanding Mini wasn’t rocket science; all it took was either edging the hell out of him, or forcing orgasms repeatedly until his brain boiled over and he rebooted into being tolerable.
He was no architect, but maybe gardening could be fun. He definitely needed a hobby now that his main pastime of cheating was done.
“I didn’t get you anything. I thought we were just going to go to a nice restaurant, drink a lot of wine, and have weird sex.”
“Mini,” said Zee calmly. “Let me make sure I understand correctly. Your present to Trinket is that you want a cat… for yourself.”
The Trinket of a year ago would have spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out how to wrangle the mess of buckles and satin onto his body. The Trinket of now managed it with the intuition of a practiced slut.
…or maybe Zee was just plotting swift anal vengeance in his head. …and maybe Mini was thinking about how to turn the inevitable rough sex into some kind of teeth-out brawl for supremacy. Trinket, at least, enjoyed the walk.
“That lap dance routine,” said Zee. “You really wanted me to know you weren’t wearing anything underneath, didn’t you?” “Thanks for noticing,” said Mini, voice muffled.
“Trinket,” said Zee. “Can I borrow whatever plug you’re wearing?”
“I hate vibrators,” said Mini immediately. “If you’re going to fuck me, just do it. I don’t need all the foreplay.” “Mini,” said Zee. Leaning forward. Tipping Mini’s chin up, kissing him softly. “If you say one more word out of turn, I am going to leave this in you, going full speed, until the battery runs out.” Mini glowered.
He looked Zee in the eye and spread his own legs — showing off Zee’s name tattooed there. “Show him what happens when he sticks his dick in what belongs to you,” Trinket said. Zee was set on fire.
Zee let him go, and Mini dropped back down on his own, swallowing Zee’s cock. Gagging on it. Greedy. “God,” said Zee, with a low moan. “You’re both whores.”
“Why don’t you see if you can lick me so good, I forget about how long you were fucking my boyfriend?” Zee suggested.
“I sent him pictures from our bed,” said Trinket, almost eagerly. The relief of coming clean mingled with the delight of inviting more sadism.
The pieces had been at play for a long time, but finally the board stood still. All three of them slept long, deep, and peacefully into that well-earned stalemate.
The path up to the house was lined with recently planted flowers — ones Zee and Mini had debated each other about for days, Zee’s artistic vision for the house no match for Mini’s insistence that a key flower in his vision was ‘straight garbage.’
Snowblind, frostbit, I climb out of winter, and into your arms.
