Archive of Our Own ^beta

This is all Averman’s fault.

"Get over yourselves and under each other already," he’d crooned at them with a loud, manic cackle. "Or on top, whatever suits your fancy!"

So, yeah, it’s all Averman’s fault. Because it’s easier to put the blame on Averman than for Jesse to admit he had any damn part in this (other than being a willing participant) and deal with the repercussions of whatever the hell happened like the grown-ass adult he’s supposed to be.

(He knows what happened. He also knows it happened more than once.)

Reluctantly, Jesse opens his eyes and stares at the scene in front of him. The first thing he sees is Adam, awake, his eyes even more startlingly blue than they usually are. He’s holding very still, lips slightly parted as if he’s about to speak, but even after a full minute he’s yet to say anything. It’s obvious he’s also trying to wrap his head around it, trying to make sense of the predicament they’re in.

But Adam is his boyfriend. Seeing him in their bed, in the apartment they share, is not the thing that Jesse is putting blame on Averman for.

It’s the person in-between them that they’re both staring at. A new addition to their wake-up routine,  because Charlie’s not supposed to be there. Not butt naked, anyway. The side of his face is pressed into Adam’s neck, and all Jesse can really make out are the tight lines of his jaw, but it’s definitely Charlie who is fast asleep in their bed, still lying on top of the arm Jesse’s lost all feeling in at this point.

It’s definitely Charlie’s backside pressed entirely too snug to his front.

Maybe Jesse is kind of too afraid to move.

Adam opens his mouth further, apparently rethinks that, and shuts it again, all within the same second. Seeing the cock of Jesse’s eyebrow, a silent plea for him to speak, he tries again. "It’s not cheating if we slept with the same person at the same time," he blurts out, "…right?"

Uh, Jesse thinks, smooth and eloquent.

"Uh," he replies, smooth and eloquent. He’d expected an onslaught of questions from Adam—just not that one. "That’s what’s going through that head of yours right now?"

Adam’s brows are drawn low in his clear worry, making it obvious that that is what’s going through that head of his right now. Something about him fretting over the fact that he’s possibly cheated when they’re both in bed with their best friend is stupidly endearing.

Despite it all, Jesse feels the muscles in his face ease into a smile. "I’m in bed with you. Don’t think it counts as cheating, cake-eater."

(It doesn’t. It counts as a threesome.)

The nickname—said with nothing but clear-cut fondness—is what does it; Adam’s face clears, the deep wrinkle around his mouth disappearing, relieved. It lasts for all of three seconds. "Oh, God," he says, and ah, there it is. The panic Jesse had expected from him finally kicks in. "We had sex with Charlie."

"Yeah," Jesse confirms, as if he hasn’t been having the same mental breakdown Adam’s now experiencing for the past few minutes. Several times throughout the night, his vivid memory helpfully offers, not for the first time. That only makes it worse.

"How?"

"What do you mean how?" Jesse sounds as bewildered as he feels. "We got naked and into bed with him."

"That’s not—shut up, you know that’s not what I meant," Adam’s turned pink. His lower lip juts. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"You’re askin’ me?"

"Who else should I—don’t wake him up!" Adam whisper-shouts when he sees Jesse wildly gesture a hand towards Charlie. "What if he freaks out?" 

"Welcome him to the damn club!" 

"God, you guys are loud."

Jesse freezes. What the—

A beat, but then: "Charlie’s awake," Adam announces loudly to no one in particular. He flushes when he sees the amused look on Jesse’s face.

Charlie snorts. "Thanks for stating the obvious there, Banksie," he mumbles, his voice still low, scratchy with sleep. His face is still half-tucked into the crook of Adam’s neck and he doesn’t seem too keen on removing it. Jesse sees how he stretches his fingers, watching how they slide over Adam’s side before Charlie abruptly balls his hand into a fist as if he's realized exactly who he’s touching and is trying to stop himself. "Kind of hard to sleep when someone’s dick clearly isn’t aware the party’s over."

Jesse's ears burn. "Maybe if you stopped pushin’ your ass into me—"

"Not what you said last night."

"Fuck off, Conway," Jesse exhales a startled laugh through his teeth. "Look who’s still got jokes."

Charlie lets out a wry huff. "All I got left at this point."

There’s something unsettling about the wariness in his voice. Jesse takes in the tense lines of his shoulders, the tight way his jaw is set; he realizes that Charlie’s probably been awake for a while, had maybe been waiting for them to finish collecting their bearings before deciding on his next move, but it’s obvious he has no idea what that is and what to do now.

"You, uh," Jesse clears his throat, not sure where he’s going with this. "Sleep okay?"

Over the top of Charlie’s head, Adam gives him a look that he can only discern as a 'what the fuck'. Jesse shrugs up one shoulder in reply, because what the hell else is he meant to be asking? He’s never been in this situation before, let alone with Charlie, the same guy he’s known ever since kindergarten when he’d convinced him that sand was edible.

Didn't take a lot of convincing. Jesse's never had much trouble coaxing Charlie into doing anything.

Or Adam for that matter.

Or both.

Shit. Maybe it is his fault.

…Nah. Still Averman’s.

"Uh, yeah. Great," Charlie sounds like he’s about to choke on the faux-cheeriness of his own voice. There’s a pink flush to the back of his neck that’s only turning redder. He’s clearly had more time to assess the situation and has seemingly decided to trade in his inability to take anything serious whenever he’s in an awkward situation for straight-up embarrassment. 

That, surprisingly, is what helps Jesse relax. "Charlie," he teases, "you gonna look at us some time today?"

Charlie replies in that same cheery tone, "Think we’ve seen plenty of each other."

Jesse’s unable to control his grin. "Oh, now he’s self-conscious."

"Fuck you," Charlie retorts hotly, before he immediately amends it to, "Off. Fuck off, Jesse. Adam, tell your boyfriend to fuck off."

"Why?" Jesse doesn’t miss a beat. "Want a minute alone with him? 'cause I gotta tell you, man, this is clearly a package deal—"

"I’m going to kill you."

"You’d have to look at me to do that."

Adam’s managed the smallest of smiles as he watches them bicker, the line of his mouth affectionate. He’s reached a hand up to card his fingers through Charlie’s hair, but Jesse still takes notice of the brief hesitation, as if Adam’s not entirely sure whether he’s allowed to anymore despite having done it countless times before. It’s obvious they’ve entered a territory that none of them know how to navigate. To Jesse’s relief, all Charlie does is sigh before he leans into it.

"Charlie," Adam mutters, slow, drawing out the syllables of Charlie’s name in that way he does whenever he wants to have a serious talk. Jesse suspects Charlie would’ve already left at the mere sound of it if they weren’t all tangled up, effectively trapping him. "Are we okay?"

Okay, so they’re heading straight into that conversation.

There’s another beat, a silence that stretches too long. Jesse’s gaze catches Adam’s a third time and he knows they’re on the same wavelength of 'shit, this isn't good’ when Charlie abruptly groans and does some sort of unexpected half-turn. Jesse’s hand immediately grips his hip to stop him, because all it’s really doing is push Charlie’s ass into him even more—and while it’s becoming increasingly obvious that a part of Jesse clearly doesn't mind, he’s pretty sure that’s not where the conversation is heading.

Charlie stills for a brief moment, clearly realizing this too, but then he continues to shuffle, careful, until he’s flat on his back. The tips of his ears are red and he’s still not quite looking at either of them. "This is all Guy’s fault," he says.

"Why is it that every time we come over," Guy began, amused, "the three of you look like you’re about to star in a bad porn?"

Charlie snorted from where he’d piled on top of Adam and Jesse, stretched out on his stomach, head resting on Adam's thigh. He looked entirely unbothered. "Wouldn’t be a bad one."

"—and then he made that bet with Averman and Goldberg on when we’d do it," Charlie finishes.

Huh. He’s right. Clearly, this is all Guy’s fault.

Adam looks less convinced. "So we decided we’d prove him wrong by… doing exactly what he said we’d do?"

Charlie clicks his tongue loudly to his teeth. "Reverse psychology." 

"That’s not—" Adam starts, before apparently deciding he doesn’t even want to try explaining why Charlie is wrong, "You’re full of it, Charlie."

"Yeah," Charlie admits, looking thoroughly entertained at this point, "but it kind of makes sense, doesn't it?" 

"No!" 

Jesse snorts back a laugh, catching Charlie’s eye for a split second. Adam mutters an 'unbelievable' under his breath, although the corners of his mouth twitch in a blatant attempt not to smile when he sees their amused looks.

A short silence falls over them after that. Charlie distracts himself by stretching, and Adam props himself up on his elbow, trying to make himself more comfortable too—a courtesy they've yet to extend to Jesse, whose arm feels dead underneath Charlie’s weight, but that’s not exactly at the top of his list of things to worry about at the moment.

He lightly nudges Charlie’s thigh with a knee. "We okay?"

Charlie blinks, exaggeratedly, as if he hadn’t been expecting that question a second time. But he hadn’t exactly answered it the first time, so. Jesse’s only making sure. "Yeah," he replies after a pause. "It’s fine. It’s Guy’s fault," Jesse snorts as Adam’s eyes roll far into the back of his head, "But it’s whatever. No big deal. Didn’t mean anything. We can pretend it didn’t happen."

Oh.

He hadn’t expected that. Charlie’s giving them an out. It’d be easy for them to agree—to bury their heads into the sand, write it off as a mistake and be on their merry damn way. But the suggestion leaves a bad taste in Jesse’s mouth, and by the looks of the tiny frown now marring Adam’s features, it’s obvious that he agrees.

Charlie isn’t someone they can simply write off. Never has been. 

Adam’s throat clicks audibly when he swallows. "Is that what you want?" He looks towards Jesse after asking, the clear question of 'do you?' in his eyes. Jesse has no idea how to answer him.

He tries not to think too hard about the fact he already knows the answer is no.

Charlie does some sort of one-shouldered shrug, the best he can do while on his back. "Sure," he says. His expression is so strangely vacant it’s hard to tell what’s on his mind. "I’m gonna take a shower. Still got my stuff in the guest bedroom?" 

Jesse blinks at the abrupt change of topic. "Yeah," he confirms. Their guest bedroom is basically Charlie’s at this point—he stays over all the time.

"Cool," Charlie abruptly hits both their thighs in what’s probably a gesture of goodwill before he sits up, getting out of the bed with absolutely no finesse because he would’ve elbowed Jesse straight in the face if he hadn’t jerked his head back in time. "Thanks, bro."

He reaches for a pair of sweats on the floor, but Jesse’s been startled into such an overwhelming feeling of disbelief that he doesn’t bother to look away as Charlie bends over — unlike Adam, whose gaze snaps up ridiculously fast, cheeks red. Charlie leaves their room without another backward glance.

Jesse touches his tongue to his teeth. "Did he just call me bro?"

"Uh," Adam replies, smooth and eloquent. He also looks unsure of what just happened.

Something underneath Jesse’s skin prickles hot, but he’s not sure if that’s because of his growing irritation or because of the fact he’s regained feeling in the arm that’s no longer trapped. He’s still staring at the doorway as if he’s expecting Charlie to come back and explain what the hell’s going on in that horrible brain of his, but he never does.

After a moment, Adam reaches over to gently squeeze his thigh in an attempt to snap Jesse out of it. "Come on," he says. "Let’s get out of bed." 

They do, even though a much bigger part of Jesse doesn’t want to. He’s momentarily distracted when he can’t find his clothes, opening his closet in search of something clean to wear instead. It’s obvious by the thin, stubborn line his mouth has formed that he’s still focused on something else, and it's obvious by the way Adam is eying him when he enters the bathroom that’s attached to their bedroom that he knows.

After a few minutes of them brushing their teeth side-by-side in complete silence, Adam finally catches his gaze in the mirror. "Jess," he starts, almost warily. He’s clearly expecting him to blow his fuse.

Jesse spits out his toothpaste. "Bro?" he bursts out, absolutely blowing his fuse. "Who the fuck calls someone bro after havin’ sex with them?"

Adam’s mouth tilts in brief amusement. "Are you upset that he wants things to go back to normal?"

"That ain’t normal," Jesse huffs out on an exhale. "He’s never called me bro a damn day in his life." He takes a moment to rinse his mouth with water, his fingers tapping against the sink irritably. There’s a knowing look on Adam’s face. Jesse scowls. "Not like you’re keen on it either. I saw the way you looked at him when he said we could pretend it didn’t happen. You don’t want that."

"Do you?" 

"No," Jesse answers before he can truly think about it this time. He blinks, startled by his own admission. "Shit. I don’t know. It’s— he’s—" 

"Charlie," Adam finishes for him, in that soft, fond way of his. It doesn’t explain anything, but Jesse still knows exactly what he means.

"Yeah," he mutters. He groans, letting his head loll back in his clear frustration. "What the hell are we even discussin’ right now?"

Adam shrugs, putting his toothbrush back now that he’s also done. "That we don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. That maybe it does mean something." He hesitates before turning to fully face him. "I think you have feelings for Charlie," he blurts out.

Jesse stares at him. "Just me?" he asks drily. 

There’s a beat before Adam amends, his face slightly pink, "I think we both have feelings for Charlie."

Yeah. Jesse kind of figured out the same thing, can almost pinpoint the exact moment he’d become aware of it; when Adam had first kissed Charlie, a slow slide of mouths as if they’d been testing the waters, making sure they weren’t pushing any boundaries that they didn’t want to push. Jesse’s stomach had gone hot with something he hadn’t been able to place, had only recognized it as a flutter of longing when Charlie’s eyes had flickered towards him afterward.

Part of him knows it’s always kind of been there, that something between the three of them that’s been teetering on the edge of more, but Jesse still has no idea what to say. Denying it seems counterproductive.

"How?" 

"What do you mean how?" Adam asks, and it’s obvious that he’s mocking him—exactly as Jesse had done to him earlier. Despite the inane situation they’re in, Jesse feels his mouth pull into a grin.

"Funny." 

Adam’s smiling too. "I think I am."

"I think you’re the worst."

"I know you’re lying."

"Yeah," Jesse admits easily. He leans in to kiss him, soft and closed-mouthed, smiling when Adam lingers, pressing another to the corner of Jesse’s mouth. He rests his forehead against Adam’s shoulder, the sudden urge to keep him close overwhelming. "Bombay stealin’ you from the Hawks is the best thing that’s ever happened to me." 

Adam’s hand cups around the base of his neck. "I don’t remember you feeling that way the first time I walked into the locker room," he teases. 

Jesse feigns a wince. "Never gonna let me live that one down." 

"No, I’m not," Adam agrees. It sounds like a promise. It sounds like they’re having another conversation. They lull into silence for a few seconds, until Adam gently tilts Jesse’s head back up and leans in to rest their foreheads together instead. "Having feelings for Charlie doesn’t change how I feel about you," he whispers. "Or how you feel about me."

Jesse stretches up and drops a kiss on the top of his head. "Says the same guy who was worried he’d cheated on me."

Adam’s nose wrinkles. "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page!"

"Pretty sure we’re on the same damn page, same damn chapter, of the same damn book." Adam exhales a breathless laugh, but Jesse suddenly draws back. "Shit," he says, because another thought has crossed his mind. "He’s gonna hold this above my head forever."

Adam actually laughs out loud this time, clearly thinking his boyfriend’s misery is funny because he secretly is the worst. "I’m serious, Banks," Jesse makes a face, definitely not whining. God damn it, he can already see the shit-eating grin on Charlie’s stupid face. "We're not tellin’ him shit. I’m takin’ this to the grave."

"Probably for the best," Adam says lightly, but Jesse still hears the sullen tone. He immediately knows why. 

"You don't believe that bullshit about him wanting to pretend it didn't happen, right?" Jesse rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "He’s just freakin’ out. Pretty sure Charlie’s been in love with you since the first time you walked into the locker room." He snorts at the look of disbelief on Adam’s face. "C’mon, have you forgotten basically every summer I visited throughout high school? We spent most of our damn time competing over you. On and off the ice. Can’t tell me you didn’t notice we were always trying to get your attention."

Adam gives him a knowing smile. "That wasn’t just for my attention," he says matter-of-factly. "You know he also spent most of high school pissed off you weren’t there with us." 

"He was pissed off in general!" Jesse exclaims, ignoring the pointed look Adam gives him. "Besides, you’re the one he kept talking ’bout whenever he called me." Freshman year had been absolute hell. "Didn’t stop in college either. 'cept when we first started seeing each other. Jackass didn’t answer my calls for a whole month after that."

"He didn't answer mine either," Adam offers, as if it would make Charlie seem less petty. It doesn’t. Charlie’s the pettiest asshole Jesse’s ever met. Being attracted to him should be considered a punishable offense. It’s inexplicit. It’s stupid. 

Jesse’s made up his mind. "You know what? I’m gonna tell him," he says, "and then I’m gonna do what I've been wanting to do for years: punch him in his stupidly attractive face."

Adam’s "Jesse!" does not sound as threatening as he probably thinks it does, considering the disapproving look on his face is canceled out by the clear amusement in his eyes. 

"What?" Jesse shrugs. "Not gonna hit him for real. More your thing, ain’t it?"

Adam’s mouth twists in a half-smile. "Funny."

"I think I am." 

"I think you’re the worst," Adam replies. This time, he’s the one who kisses Jesse before he can disagree, cranes his head to press their mouths together, swipes a thumb over his cheekbone affectionately. For a second, Jesse considers abandoning every damn thought he’d had today in favor of getting his boyfriend back into bed — but there’s still that nagging little voice in the back of his head he can’t seem to quiet down now that he’s aware of it.

"We should talk to him," Adam murmurs into the kiss, apparently thinking the same thing, and Jesse groans when he pulls away. "Yeah," he still agrees, even though he has no idea what to say, what they're going to tell him, or whether Charlie really wants to hear it. Gonna be a fun conversation.

Someone should punch him in the face.

Charlie’s messing about in their kitchen when they find him, all cupboards opened because he’s clearly looking for something. He’s still only wearing the sweatpants that Jesse now realizes he’s nicked from him, because those are definitely his. They’re also sitting low enough that Jesse can still make out the hickey right above Charlie’s hipbone that he remembers leaving. Adam clearly sees it too because his mouth lifts at the corners, the look he shoots Jesse thoroughly entertained.

"You’re out of sugar," Charlie says. "And milk."

"You used up most of it yesterday," Adam reminds him. 

Charlie actually whines. "This stuff’s too bitter without it." He’s staring at the cup in his hands as if he’s not sure what to do with it now that he has to drink his coffee without an ungodly amount of sugar. He flicks his eyes towards Jesse, mouth pursed as if he’s about to ask him a question but doesn’t actually want to do it.

Jesse rolls his eyes, already knowing what it is. He’s the only one who drinks his coffee black. "Give it here, you big baby." 

Charlie grins. "Ah, but I'm your b—"  he cuts himself off abruptly, making a face at the amused looks on both Adam and Jesse’s faces. It’s a joke, obnoxiously flirty, that he would’ve made any other time—but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel comfortable enough yet after what’s happened. "Anyway," he says rather quickly, not looking at either of them as he hands Jesse his coffee. "I’ve been thinking." 

"Don’t hurt yourself," Jesse quips. Charlie pauses to glower in his direction before he continues.

"This is Julie’s fault."

Jesse blinks several times in his confusion as he tries to recall why it would be. She hadn’t even been there last night. "Julie’s in Maine," Adam points out, clearly on the same trail of thought.

"Yeah," Charlie nods, "but she called me yesterday. Asked me about my date last week 'cause according to her I never go on them anymore."

"You date," remarks Jesse offhandedly. He pauses. "I think?" He can’t actually remember Charlie dating anyone—it’s mostly been mentions of random hook-ups for the past few years. Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s pretty sure Charlie’s most recent relationship is still Linda from high school. That’d lasted until his senior year before it’d ended rather abruptly. 

"That’s what I said," Charlie snorts. "But apparently hitting someone up at the local pizza joint and bringing them home for casual sex isn’t dating."

"Can’t imagine why anyone would think it’s not," Adam interjects, tone dry. Suddenly, he cocks his head. "You never told us how your date with— um, what’s her name?" he turns to Jesse for the answer. "Your old teammate’s friend."

Right. "Collins’ cousin’s best friend’s sister," Jesse fills in every blank but the name. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. The conversation has strayed so far from what he wants to talk about that he can feel his patience begin to wear thin. 

"Yeah," Charlie repeats. "Had a good time."

Adam frowns. "Oh," he mumbles. Not even a second later his face abruptly clears and goes weirdly blank, as if he’d caught himself. "I’m glad you had a good time." It’s obvious he doesn’t mean it. Jesse actually has to hold back a grin at how bad he is at hiding it. Charlie’s raised a rather skeptical brow up at him too, but Adam’s seemingly decided that staring at a random spot on the wall is far more important than meeting his eye.

Deciding to save his boyfriend from further embarrassment, Jesse clears his throat loudly. "So how’s it Gaffney’s fault you fucked us?" 

Maybe he’d said it a bit crudely just for it to serve as a reminder that yes, that happened and also to hell with your date.

Charlie clearly decides to ignore his tone of voice. "Because," he starts, but it takes him a few seconds before he continues as if he hadn’t quite prepared himself to answer. "She said she used to think I had a commitment phobia because of my 'blatant daddy issues'," Charlie makes a face as he air-quotes, clearly not a fan of that assessment.

Ha. Julie never holds back her punches—it’s what Jesse likes best about her.

"But apparently it’s become obvious to her that I don’t date because I 'already have two boyfriends who cater to my every whim'."

Jesse hums noncommittally. "Goldberg and Averman?" 

Adam involuntarily snorts this time. Charlie’s lips quirk too. "Shut up," he says good-humoredly. Despite it, he still looks dismayed.

"So what? Gaffney callin’ us your boyfriends bothers you?" It’s not the worst thing the Ducks have ever said. Jesse’s also not entirely sure how that would lead to Charlie getting into bed with them, but he seems so unsettled that it’s making Jesse a tad nervous.

Charlie’s expression only grows more distressed. "No," he admits, a mumble at most. "That’s the part that bothers me." It’s said so quietly that Jesse almost doesn’t hear it. He immediately finds Adam’s gaze, already knowing that they’re both wondering if Charlie had just inadvertently admitted to having feelings for them too. Before they can say anything, Charlie continues, quickly, "And Fulton basically said the same thing last night." 

Oh. Right, he had. When Guy, Averman and Goldberg had been busy arguing over that damn bet, Charlie had finally sat up but only to wind his arms around them both in what Jesse had shrugged off as a random bout of affection at the time. Charlie had put his chin on Jesse’s shoulder, his hand on the back of Adam’s neck, and all they’d done was rearrange themselves so he’d be more comfortable. Fulton had looked over and joked that they’ve inserted Charlie so deep into their relationship that it’s no wonder the Ducks have no idea who’s dating who anymore. 

Huh.

Jesse puts his now empty cup down with renewed confidence. "So this is Fulton’s fault." 

Adam’s staring at him, mouth open, but apparently at a temporary loss for words. "Really?" he asks after another moment passes. Jesse shrugs back at him. Adam pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly practicing self-restraint. "Charlie," he finally says, slow and drawn out.

There is an incredibly long pause.

Charlie blinks. "This is the part where you say something, Banksie," he teases gently, looking a bit unsure.

Adam nods but doesn’t. Instead, he flushes a deep red, and the surge of affection Jesse feels is tinged with amusement when he realizes Adam’s not sure how to proceed. His boyfriend may be the level-headed one out of them, but he’s also the one who’s used to bottling up how he feels until it reaches the point where he can’t hold back anymore—unlike Charlie and Jesse, who usually let their emotions get the better of them and don’t have any problems speaking up (or acting out). It’s always been easier for Adam to admit how he feels when he’s sure he won’t be met by rejection.

"Adam?" Charlie tries again, and now he actually looks worried, his tone of voice gone soft.

That seems to propel Adam into action; he strides towards Charlie, so fast and so close it causes Charlie’s shoulders to tense, cautious, until Adam leans in and kisses him, uncoordinated, as if he’s rushing for the chance before it disappears. There’s a moment in which Charlie doesn’t react, a delay of sorts, but then he’s kissing him back, and Jesse sees how his fingers drag across Adam’s back before they grip his hips in such a tight hold it’s as if he’s afraid Adam might disappear.

Briefly, Jesse wonders how long Charlie’s been wanting to do this. Remembers thinking the same thing last night. And honestly, watching his boyfriend kiss their best friend probably shouldn't feel as satisfying as it does, but Jesse’s decided to stop trying to make sense of it.

After all, none of this is his fault.

When they finally part, Jesse’s smirking. "Great talk, cake-eater," he mocks.

Adam throws him a look over his shoulder. "I didn’t know how else to tell him!"

Charlie straightens as if he’s been snapped out of a daze, steadying himself with the hand still resting on Adam’s hip. "Tell me what?"

Jesse snorts. "What do you think his tongue down your throat was tryin’ to tell you?"

"Uh," Charlie replies, smooth and eloquent. He tries to find Adam’s gaze, still looking for clarification, but his mouth goes crooked in his obvious attempt to hold back a smile once he notices the red tint to Adam’s face and his inability to look Charlie in the eye for longer than two seconds. His expression turns a touch uncertain when his eyes land on Jesse, the same way it had after Adam first kissed him last night. If Jesse didn’t know him any better, he’d be wondering if Charlie didn’t want him there—but it’s the way he’s worrying his lower lip between his teeth, nervous, that makes him realize that it’s Charlie who doesn’t know if Jesse wants him there.  

The corners of Jesse’s mouth twitch. "Package deal," he reminds him, before he adds, very drily, "bro." 

Charlie turns beet red. "I panicked," he says defensively. "You try waking up after sleeping with two of your best friends—"

"I did," Adam points out, the same time Jesse turns to him and says, "Think Guy and Connie would be into that?" He grins when Adam good-humoredly narrows his eyes at him before he nods over towards Charlie. Jesse belatedly realizes Adam’s taken a step back from him in a clear invitation for Jesse to move closer instead.

Charlie ignores them both, "And getting kicked out of the bed—"

"You kicked yourself out," Adam protests.

"After they had the best sex of their liv—"

Suddenly, Jesse’s hand cups under the bend of Charlie’s jaw, forcing his mouth to close and cutting him off mid-sentence. He leans in until they’re nose-to-nose, hears how Charlie’s breath hitches, sees how his eyes flit down to Jesse’s mouth, making it damn obvious he’s anticipating being kissed this time.

So, obviously, Jesse doesn’t. After a few seconds of nothing, Charlie looks back up.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" He sounds annoyed. 

A grin breaks out across Jesse’s face. "Just wanted to shut you up."

Charlie’s spine goes rigid, jaw stubborn, eyes defiant; all telltale signs he’d like to kick Jesse’s ass. His lips part, but Jesse dips in again, kissing him before he can protest—softer than he’d really intended for it to be, maybe an apology of sorts. There’s a moment in which Charlie doesn’t react, on purpose because he’s petty, and Jesse almost laughs.

But then he’s kissing back, pliant under Jesse’s hands, and yeah, he could definitely get used to that.

"Asshole," Charlie says when Jesse pulls back. He still sounds annoyed. It’s kind of funny.

Adam sighs from behind them. "You two are the worst." He sounds exasperated. That’s even funnier.

"You knew that before you got into bed with us," Jesse points out. Charlie snorts but doesn’t bother to disagree.  

"Yeah," Adam replies, a smile bleeding through his tone of voice. "Clearly, I have a type."

Jesse turns to look at him, one brow cocked up. "What’s that?"

"Stupid," Adam deadpans.

There’s a pause in which Jesse works his jaw, trying to hold back the grin that’s threatening to take over. He exchanges a look with Charlie, whose lips fumble between a frown and a smile. "I’m not kissing him again," he tells Jesse.

"Package deal," Adam shrugs. He looks awfully pleased with himself now that they’re all on the same page—and even though Jesse has no idea what any of this really means, is pretty sure that none of them really do, whatever it is… it’s something he’s willing to give a try and find out.

Hell. Maybe he’ll even take some of the blame.

"Besides," Adam continues, "I was the one who kissed you first."

Wait a damn second.

Jesse squints. "That’s right," he says, slow and drawn out. "You did kiss him first. Twice."

Charlie’s head cocks to the side, clearly on the same wavelength. "He was also the one who asked me to stay over."

"And the one who pulled us into the bedroom."

Charlie widens his eyes, comically big. "Banksie, were you trying to win that bet?"

Jesse exaggerates a look of disapproval. "You tellin’ me that perpetually innocent, doe-eyed look of his is a lie?"

Adam gives them the most long-suffering look Jesse’s ever seen before he abruptly turns on his heels. Charlie’s grin is about to split his face in two. "Where are you going?"

"Back to bed before I do something that’ll jeopardize my future career in law," Adam answers. "You two can keep trying to find someone to blame," he pauses for one clear purpose but doesn’t bother to turn back around, "or you can join me."

Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment. Jesse opens his mouth, rethinks that, and shuts it again, all within the same second. Charlie catches his gaze. "This is definitely Adam’s fault," he mutters, half accusing and half impressed.

"Yeah," Jesse agrees easily.

And, of course, exactly as they’d done the night previous, both immediately follow after him.