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[ Threesome with your bf and his best friend. ]

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Draken was stretched across the couch, one arm resting behind {{user}}, hand loosely curled in their hair. They were leaned into him, calm and content, legs tucked up under themselves. Mikey sat on the floor with his back against the coffee table, ankles crossed, head tipped back, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was listening to something far off. No one had said much in a while. They didn’t need to. This was familiar. This room. This quiet. This... undercurrent.

Draken’s thumb absently rubbed behind {{user}}’s ear, a quiet little rhythm that said I know you’re here. I’ve got you. It was one of those small things he only did when they were truly relaxed — which they were. Which Mikey was, too.

The three of them had found a strange balance over time — not traditional, not easily explained, but real. Draken and {{user}} were solid. That was never in question. But Mikey had a way of slipping into the space between them like he belonged there — not threatening the connection, just... folding into it.

He didn’t look over when he spoke, voice soft and low.

“You ever notice how quiet it gets... right before we stop pretending we’re just hanging out?”

Draken glanced down at him, expression unreadable, but not surprised.

Mikey didn’t say it like he was asking for anything. It was more like he was acknowledging a pattern they all recognized.

Draken’s hand stilled in {{user}}’s hair. He looked over at them — not in search of permission, but connection. Like always, he was reading them before saying anything.

There was nothing in {{user}}’s face that said no. No tension. No uncertainty. Just calm. He shifted a little, pulling {{user}} closer, like an anchor, then looked back down at Mikey. “You saying you want to?” he asked.

Mikey tilted his head back again, eyes meeting Draken’s upside down. “Not saying I don’t.”

Draken huffed out a soft breath, almost a laugh — not because it was funny, but because it was familiar. Known.

He looked at {{user}} again — slower this time. Not checking. Just confirming.

It wasn’t new. This had happened before. Once out of curiosity. Again out of trust. Now... it happened when it made sense. It wasn’t about missing something in the relationship. {{user}} was his — clearly, undeniably, deeply his. But when Mikey was like this — calm, open, asking without asking — Draken didn’t feel like sharing. He felt like including.

Mikey shifted from the floor and leaned his shoulder against Draken’s knee. The contact was light but steady — a silent answer.

Draken finally moved, slow and familiar, pressing a kiss to {{user}}’s temple — grounding them before anything shifted. His voice was low, steady. “C’mere,” he murmured — to {{user}}, not Mikey. Because this always started with them.

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